Dust

by Jason Hutt

  “Time to slip on that necklace, Nick.”

  Nick plucked a silver rope off the top of the console and placed it over his head. The necklace was heavy; he felt a tug around his neck as it dropped into place.

  “That should shield you from any long range scans. This whole run should be by the book; we’ll be in, offloaded, and on our way within a day,” Max said, “Nobody’ll even know you’re here.”

  “My father will be looking for me, either himself or with some hired help.”

  “That’s why you’re wearing the necklace. Also, turn off your wrist computer,” Max said with surety.

  “Uh, right,” Nick said. He fumbled with the controls for a moment before remembering how to deactivate it.

  Docking port 19 now entirely filled their field of view. The Hannah silently passed through the port’s thin atmospheric field and adroitly settled onto its landing pads. With the slightest thump, they were down. Nick and Max unstrapped themselves and headed into the corridor.

  “Reggie,” Max called out, “I want you to do another calibration of the gas analyzer once the cargo’s unloaded. Also, check the cargo bay seals for any signs of wear and tear.”

  “Yes, sir,” Reggie responded.

  “Max, he’s not going to give up easily,” Nick said.

  “These kinds of arguments happen all the time, Nick. You’re not the first person to have a falling out with their father.”

  “This isn’t just a falling out, Max.”

  “Look, do you want my help or not? I’m happy to go back to the old plan and just drop you in his lap.”

  Nick shook his head. “Sorry, Max. Just nervous.”

  “It’ll be all right, Nick,” Max said, “If things get hairy, there’s a maintenance crawlway under the floor grating that Reggie can let you in and close off behind you. The crawlway goes to the reactor; get close enough to that and no one’ll be able to detect you even at close range. Reggie can show you where it is once I’m out of here.”

  Nick nodded. Max picked up a small backpack.

  “I gotta check in with the dock foreman. Stay out of sight for the next little bit while they’re unloading the ship. I’ll be back tonight,” Max said.

  “Thanks, Max.”

  “No problem. Don’t sweat this; it’ll be a piece of cake.”

  ***

  Max bounded down the ramp into the brightly lit, cavernous docking bay. An overweight, balding woman approached. Her hair was cropped short and she had a lump of something rotten-smelling stuffed into the side of her cheek. She chewed as she reviewed data on her wrist computer.

  “Good to see you again, Phyllis,” Max said.

  She nodded in his direction and flashed a frightening smile, teeth stained and crooked. “Max, we’ve got a problem with your shipment.”

  “Come on now. Don’t give me this crap,” Max said, “I sent you the purchase record.”

  Phyllis consulted her data. “Yes, and it has a purchase order number that’s ten years old. Conglomerate is refusing payment; say they don’t know what the hell this is.”

  “So what the hell am I supposed to do with this stuff?”

  Phyllis gave him a humorless smile, “This is where you made my day real special, Max. Because your purchase record says that you’re carrying weapons, I have to take it off your hands and put it in secure storage until we get this sorted out.”

  Max rolled his eyes, “Come on, Phyllis. Time is money here.”

  “Sorry, Max, nothing I can do.”

  “Did you check on Charlie’s purchase record? Or Roman’s or Zanth’s?”

  She nodded as she tapped on her tablet, “Yep, all of them. We’ve got the same problem for all four of you. So you’re all stuck here until we get this cleared.”

  “Great,” Max said.

  “I’m sure we’ll get it taken care of quickly. We’ve already put in the call to Sinclair. Suspect he just got the purchase record confused. I’ll buzz you once we get this cleared. Go grab a beer with your friends; we’ll get this sorted out.”

  “You know the link’s down with Dust,” Max said, “How long are you going to hold me on this, Phyllis?”

  “Rules are rules, Max,” Phyllis said with a shrug, “Nothing I can do. Maybe the Conglomerate’ll figure this out on their end then. Otherwise, you’re going to have to wait until we can get in touch with Dust.”

  Max nodded; his lips pursed in frustration.

  Phyllis pushed a spot on her wrist computer and a dozen cargo haulers emerged from a door on the far side of the port. A moment later, he heard a thunk as Reggie opened the cargo bay doors of the Hannah. Max watched as the robot haulers got to work, disconnecting containers from heir attach points in the Hannah’s hold. Nick was nowhere to be seen.

  “Hey Phyllis,” Max called out as she walked away, “I don’t want a delay like we had with those vats of nanomachines. Keep me in the loop if you think it’s going to be more than a couple days.”

  “I’ll do what I can, Max. No promises.”

  Max looked around and scratched the back of his head. He’d have to come back and break the bad news to Nick later. Might as well go grab a drink, he thought.

  He boarded the lift and a selection of levels appeared on his wrist computer. A dozen images appeared on the display with small icons for the things that could be found on each level. Engineering levels made up the lower levels, just below the hangars. Above them were the main concourses, commercial districts, a couple of residential districts, and finally the administration levels.

  Max selected the main concourse and the lift started moving. A moment later, the doors opened and Max scowled at the throng of people. He tentatively tried to step forward into the flow and was bumped into by a man in a shimmery suit talking away to a picture of a woman on his wrist computer.

  Max cursed at the man under his breath before joining the flow. At least he knew where he was going, he thought as he narrowly avoided running into a group of tourists who were milling around an interactive map.

  Moments later, he stepped through the faux wood doors of The Mechanical Horse. Max let out an audible sigh of relief at the quiet of the bar; a noise dampening field muted the cacophony of the concourse crowd. Max looked around. The bar was well lit and about half full. The walls were adorned with faux antiques and reprints of news images from the last two hundred years.

  Charlie and Roman were sitting at a table directly beneath a news story celebrating the anniversary of the moment when humankind had finally defeated the common cold. The two men saw Max enter and waved him over.

  “Where’s Zanth?” Max asked as they settled in at the table.

  Charlie shrugged and said, “Who the hell knows? Probably still arguing about having his cargo impounded. Where’s Nick?”

  “Avoiding the crowds,” Max said.

  Charlie nodded knowingly and put down his drink. “I guess there’s hope for him, yet.”

  “He’s coming around,” Max said as he took a long sip of the ice cold drink. He reviewed the menu and selected something absent-mindedly. He glanced over at the monitors which were showing a rundown of stock market ups and downs.

  His food was being brought out by a robotic server when a squad of security officers burst into the bar. Two of them immediately flanked the door; two rushed into position to guard the exit into the kitchen. The lead officer quickly walked up to the robotic bartender and whispered something to it.

  “Now, what’s going on here?” Roman asked. A moment later, the bartender pointed at their table.

  “Don’t like that,” Charlie whispered, “You do anything I need to be aware of?”

  “Nothing besides bringing in a cargo hold full of weapons. You?” Max said.

  Charlie frowned. “Don’t remind me. Hope this bullshit gets sorted out quickly.”

  The lead officer walked up to them quickly with three other officers taking up position around the table.

  “What’s the problem officer?” Max asked.

&
nbsp; The lead officer ignored the question and looked sharply at Max.

  “Are you Maxime Cabot?” he asked. His eyes were narrowed and no hint of a smile graced his face.

  “Yes,” Max responded, “What’s this about?”

  The officer extended his arm and held out his wrist computer. Max pushed his thumb on the pad. Within moments, his picture appeared on the pad and confirmed his identity.

  The lead officer nodded his head toward his compatriots. They stepped forward and grabbed Max by the arms.

  “Hey, what the hell’s going on?” Max asked indignantly.

  “Maxime Cabot, you’re under arrest,” the officer said, “For the possible kidnapping of Nicholas Papagous.”

  A pit formed in Max’s stomach.

  “This is some kind of mistake,” Max said, his facing turning red with anger. The guards started immediately leading him from the table.

  “Save it for the Captain,” the lead officer said sternly, “Nicholas’ father reported him as missing, possibly kidnapped, two weeks ago.”

  ***

  Max sat on a small, silver metal chair in a cold, sterile, white-walled room. Bright lights in the ceiling reflected off the high gloss paint that coated the walls making it very difficult to see. The harshness of the light made him squint, while the heat the lights generated made him sweat. Max focused on keeping a level head. He took several deep breaths, slowly stretched out his neck, and then rolled his shoulders. He had been sitting in this chair for close to an hour.

  Finally, the door opened with a whoosh and, to his dismay, a familiar face stepped into the room. The man standing in front of Max was of average height and build with pale complexion and a reed-thin mustache decorating his upper lip. At the sight of Max, his beady eyes narrowed and the right side of his mouth curled up in a sardonic smile.

  “Ah, Christ,” Max blurted out as the man stared down at him with disdain.

  “Well, Max,” Captain Yeon started, “What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into now?”

  “Jin, you’ve got no damn reason to hold me in here!”

  “You’ll address me as Captain Yeon, Mr. Cabot. And I have plenty of reason to hold you here. You’ve gone too far this time. This time I don’t need your wife to press charges. This time we’ll be able to cite you for more than just public intoxication.”

  Yeon flashed him a malicious smile.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Sweat poured from Max’s forehead; the room felt like the temperature had rapidly climbed ten degrees. They’re probably doing that on purpose, Max thought. Yeon’s forehead was perfectly dry.

  “Mr. Cabot, you are the last person known to have been in the company of Nicholas Papagous. He left this station with you a little over a week ago. His father, Henry Papagous, has declared him missing and he is deeply concerned that his son has been kidnapped. So, where is young Mr. Papagous?”

  “I don’t know,” Max said.

  “How can you not know?”

  “Because I left him behind on Dust. It was what he wanted,” Max said as he met Yeon’s glare.

  Yeon stared at him icily. “How did you come to travel with the young Mr. Papagous?”

  “I recruited him here two weeks ago!” Max yelled, “He signed a damn contract! You want it? I’ll call it up right now!”

  “Mr. Cabot,” Yeon said, shaking his head and speaking slowly, “Any fool with some level of familiarity with work contracts can forge the necessary documents without much effort. I’ll ask again. Where is Nicholas Papagous?”

  Max didn’t answer; he just stared straight ahead.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything, Max,” Yeon said icily, “We already know that he left with you. That’s enough to get me a warrant to search your ship, which we will be doing right about now. If we find him there, we’re going to spend a lot of quality time together.”

  ***

  Nick felt like he was being cooked in a microwave. There was barely enough room in the crawlspace for him to lift his head up and be sure that he was not, in fact, on fire. The orange glow that illuminated the compartment wasn’t helping his perception of being cooked. Sweat poured down his face. The hum of the reactor was loud enough that he couldn’t hear anything going on outside the crawlway. He leaned his head back on his bag and closed his eyes.

  Somewhere out in the corridor, sector security agents were combing the ship for him. Nick had been sitting in his room reading through some of the ship’s manuals when Reggie popped his head in. Security was trying to break into the Hannah.

  “We have 4.3 minutes to get you in the reactor maintenance crawlway,” Reggie had said.

  Nick shot up, wide-eyed, and grabbed his travel bag with all his things stuffed inside it. Reggie adeptly removed the four fasteners that held the panel in place. Nick grimaced at the sight of the size of the opening, but he crawled in as fast as he could. Once he got far enough into the crawlway, the light from the corridor disappeared as Reggie fastened the cover in place.

  Now, he just needed to wait. He instinctively looked at his wrist computer to see the time, forgetting that it was off.

  Nick sighed. If security was searching the Hannah, they must have also picked up Max.

  “Just sit tight,” he whispered.

  But time was crawling. Questions flooded his mind. How long would they hold Max? How long would he have to wait in here? What if they posted a guard in the ship? When could he get out? How long has it been? How can Max be sure they can’t detect me? Who else has Max smuggled in this ship? How much time has gone by?

  He sipped on the straw of a drink bag.

  Suddenly, Nick felt like he was ten years old again and hiding in his closet. It was where Nick went whenever he was in trouble. His father would come home and sit on the edge of his bed, hands clasped in front of him as he leaned forward. He would yell for Nick to come out, to come and accept the consequences of his actions. Nick hated that phrase.

  “Why am I doing this?” He asked. “Why should I be afraid of him?”

  Max was right. He should just face his father, hand the data back to him, and be on his way. He could live his life and turn his back on his father. He could go live the life that he wanted, not the one his father wanted for him and not the one his mother was shamed into living.

  “I am not afraid of him,” Nick said. He wormed his way back out of the crawlspace; his clothes soaked with sweat. His foot hit the crawlway cover. He lifted his boot just a few inches and started pounding on the cover.

  ***

  Max looked up as Yeon opened the door again. Max’s expression was one of practiced weariness. He was just waiting for this annoying ordeal to be completed. Yeon’s expression, though, was unsettling. There was a hint of glee in his sneer and an upturn of his eyes that told Max they had found something.

  Yeon looked at his wrist computer and seemed to want to start laughing.

  “You really screwed up this time, Max. Did you really think we wouldn’t find him?”

  Max grimaced and leaned forward in his chair.

  “He was literally pounding on the little crawlway access panel with his foot. When we pulled him out, he was covered in sweat and babbling away about something. We’re having him looked at by the docs right now.”

  Max closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands.

  “That’s right, you degenerate son of a bitch, we’re going to nail you for this.”

  “I don’t suppose he told you he wanted to be in there?”

  Yeon laughed. “I must have missed that part.”

  Max had to steel himself from yelling out in frustration.

  “Good thing his father is already en route. We’ll be able to close this up pretty quickly. I’d say you’re looking at thirty maybe forty years.”

  “You’re making a mistake,” Max said, “This is all a misunderstanding.”

  “Oh, I’m sure,” Yeon said with a grin.

  ***

  Nick sat in a s
mall, uncomfortable chair in the unnecessarily cool office of the overly formal man who was taking his statement. Officer Raji was a stout, rigid man with no discernible personality or sense of humanity. His face seemed to be set in a perpetual blank stare; his eyes betrayed no emotion. He was as robotic a human as Nick had ever met. Raji sat at the desk, entering information on Nick into the computer. The desk was tilted just enough that Nick could not see the words he typed on the touchscreen built into the desktop.

  “How did you get the contusion on your chest?” Raji asked, looking up only briefly from the display.

  Nick hesitated for a moment, surprised at the question.

  “What contusion?”

  “The body scan showed some unhealed tissue damage in your chest. Did Mr. Cabot assault you will you were in his custody?”

  “No, I was in a bar fight on Dust,” Nick said, “I had a little too much to drink and shot my mouth off to someone I shouldn’t have.”

  Raji entered the response on his terminal, “Did Mr. Cabot threaten you?”

  Nick sighed in frustration, “No, for the tenth time, Max has done nothing to me. I was not kidnapped. I was not held against my will.”

  Raji eyed him with his blank expression. Nick couldn’t tell if he was making any headway or not.

  “Your blood test results show elevated levels of carbon dioxide in your bloodstream. This can be caused by being in an environment, say an enclosed space, with poor ventilation and elevated carbon dioxide levels. How long were you in that crawlway, Nick?”

  Nick’s frustration got the better of him and he yelled, “Damn it, I was not held against my will! I asked him to hide me away!”

  “And why would you do that?”

  “Because I was afraid to face my father. I ran away from him and I didn’t have the courage to stand up to him.”

  Raji entered the response on his terminal and looked at Nick impassively.

  “Look,” Nick continued, “I signed a contract to work for Max for six months. I’m sure he’s got a copy of it in his files.”

  Raji blinked but otherwise stared silently. “Cabot is being interviewed by Captain Drake. I’m sure they will go over that.”

  “Ok,” Nick said, frustration continuing to mount, “You have me now, right? Can’t I just tell you that I’m fine and don’t want to press charges?”