Erik marched over to Anne. “Is that the case?”
“I have my orders.” She continued to stare at Erik defiantly. “Those include listening to you, but keep in mind, we’re on loan to you. We don’t work for you. If I feel you’re screwing up, I will let Agent Koval know.”
Alina cleared her throat. “Good. I think we’re all on the same page.”
Erik offered Anne a slight mocking grin before stepping back. He had expected something like this. He’d known there was only so long he would be able to operate with total autonomy. Until now, it hadn’t been an issue.
Although they’d met with Barbu without telling Alina ahead of time, that had been a function of limited time rather than a desire to keep anything from her.
As long as the ID remained dedicated to defeating the conspiracy, Erik had no problem with Alina knowing his every move. If the situation changed, he would have a lot more problems than one frosty redheaded agent to worry about.
Emma’s hologram appeared, including a dark suit matching Anne’s. Erik suspected the AI was mocking the woman.
“I should make it clear,” Emma began, looking straight at Anne, “that everything that occurs on any ship I’m interfaced with is under my surveillance except when I choose otherwise.” Her smile was cold. “Attempts to bypass that, such as unauthorized communications, will be reported to Erik and Jia.”
“That’s enough.” Alina stepped forward. “Erik and Jia have my total trust, as do you, Agents Devereaux and Marle. I know it’ll be an adjustment, but I’m sure you’ll learn to work well together for the good of the UTC. They aren’t just muscle, Erik. Use them well.”
Kant flexed. “I have plenty of muscle, too.”
“Down, Hercules.” With that, Alina headed toward a small side door.
Erik gazed at Alina and the other agent. Anne spun on her heel and headed toward the Argo, not looking any happier than before.
A dedicated engineering crew, an AI, a hacker, two ghosts, Jia, a damned impressive ship, and an even more impressive jumpship. His quest might have started with a few clues and a desperate hope, but now he had a whole team.
Wei clapped his hands loudly. Everyone left in the hangar turned toward him, confused.
“Okay, now that we’ve got the introductions over with, why don’t we go to the galley and have a little party? The others can join when they hear the fun.” He pointed at Emma. “She can fly the ship, right? So, we’ve got plenty of time before we get to Penglai. If we get drunk tonight, we can sleep it off.”
Kant rubbed his chin. “I like where your head is, but I’m not sure that’s a great idea before the mission.”
“He’s right.” Erik laughed. “We’ll save the party for after the mission.”
Jia leaned toward Erik to whisper, “Are you sure about this? Agent Devereaux might be a problem.”
“If she’s our worst problem on this mission, we’ll do great.”
Chapter Thirty
July 23, 2230, Solar System, En Route UTC Space Fleet Base Penglai
Despite her family’s wealth, Jia, like most people, spent her life consuming mostly artificial meat, whether prepared or printed.
Her mother enjoyed the occasional ostentatious display of serving and eating real meat, but she was suddenly concerned about wasting money when there wasn’t anyone around to impress except her daughters and husband.
A lifetime of eating artificial meat should have made her less sensitive to the vagaries of such products, but she could taste a difference in the meals prepared on the Argo. Those faint differences reminded her she was on a ship deep in space.
It hadn’t been so bad before, but she was already regretting not packing food on this trip.
Her current noodles’ textural irregularities were the day’s main complaint. She chewed quickly and swallowed, trying her best not to focus on the food and enjoy it for what it was. It was a long way to their destination.
Jia stared down at her tray on the galley table with a frown. Emma could run a diagnostic, or Lanara and her crew might be able to do something. Suffering for a week didn’t appeal. She looked at Erik, but he was happily munching on his beignet.
It didn’t make sense. The food hadn’t been this off during the Hunter mission.
Erik grinned from across the table after finishing off his pastry. “I can tell what you’re thinking.”
She eyed him. “You’ve developed psychic powers now?”
“Something like that, or we’ve just been together long enough that I can figure it out.” Erik placed her fingers on his temple. “You’re thinking, ‘Why doesn’t Erik hate his food as much as I do?’”
“I don’t…” she eyed the plate, “hate the food.”
Jia was surprised at how good Erik had become at anticipating her thoughts. The reciprocal wasn’t as true.
Erik nodded. “You don’t hate it, but there’s something off about it.”
She leaned forward, pointing at him. “Exactly!”
Erik chuckled. “There isn’t. It’s you. The problem is psychological.”
Jia stared at him, then her plate, and back at him. “Huh? What do you mean, it’s psychological? There’s clearly something different about the food on the ship, and it’s more pronounced this trip than the last time.”
He gestured at her bowl. “There might be some slight differences between the raw materials and those from meals we get in restaurants, but probably not much, if any, compared to the stuff you buy for your home. We eat out a lot, so there’s less printed food, but we both also eat a lot of printed food at home. It’s not the food or the preparation. It’s because you’re trapped in this bucket until we get to Penglai, and then trapped in it or another bucket until we get to Alpha Centauri.”
“The trip there won’t take that long,” Jia muttered.
“To the system, yes, but we can’t pop out in orbit. We better work this out now because there are a lot more printed noodles in your future.”
“But it’s getting worse.” Jia tapped a finger on the table. “Tasting worse. I don’t think it’s just in my head. Are you sure you’re just not ignoring it because you used to eat rations? Lanara’s the one putting in the raw material requests. Maybe she decided to go cheap because of some efficiency thing. You know, use food that’s not as good for humans, but it’ll save 0.27 percent power when you use the printers.”
“That does sound like something she’d do.” Erik scratched his chin, thinking about the suggestion. “But I don’t believe that’s it. It’s in your head, Jia.”
Emma materialized next to the table in a chef’s coat, with a toque perched atop her head. “Erik is correct. While the highest-quality materials aren’t being purchased, they are generally of good quality, and in some cases, superior to what you two consume in your apartments. There’s no evidence there’s been any change to the food printers or other relevant systems, based on system reports.”
With that, she retracted her hologram. Jia had stopped caring about Emma’s omnipresence a long time ago. If anything, it was a comfort and made it easier to relax.
“We used to call this the taste curve in the Army, but it hit the Fleet guys even harder.” Erik dusted crumbs off his hands. “It might take a good year or two depending on how much travel we do for you not to suffer from it, but I’m guessing it’s more about the new crew. They’re what’s causing your food to taste worse. When you’re trapped on a bucket in space, anything that makes you uncomfortable can make everything seem that much worse.”
Jia thought that over. It made sense, and Emma could be mischievous, but this wasn’t a situation where she would lie. Coming to terms with the new crew members might help.
“Agent Devereaux doesn’t seem to like you much,” Jia mumbled. “I don’t know if she cares for me either. I’ve barely talked to her. She’s keeping to her cabin, and we’ve only seen each other in passing. I think she’s trying to maintain different hours than the rest of us.”
Erik shrugged. �
�If I got broken up about everyone who doesn’t like me, it’d be a sad life. At least she’s not trying to kill me. I can come back from everything but that.”
“She’s not trying to kill you yet.” Jia set her chopsticks down. Irritation was a disgusting spice.
“Alina knows what she’s doing,” Erik replied. “We just need time to earn Anne’s respect. This is as weird for her as it is for us. I’m sure that as a ghost, she’s used to dealing with informants and all sorts of non-ID personnel, but that’s not the same thing as shipping out with them and having to follow their orders.”
“I suppose, but she could be more professional about it—and professional can mean strange things for ID agents, judging by Alina and Kalei.”
“She probably thinks the same thing about us, but then again, we get the results we do because we’re not standard-issue cops, soldiers, or ghosts.”
Jia leaned back. “I know we have time before we get to the base, and she’ll calm down, but I feel she started off our relationship on the wrong foot.”
“We should do something about that. Like you said, we have plenty of time, so it doesn’t matter if we waste some of it.” Erik rubbed his chin. “But what to do? The best thing in times like this is something fun to take everyone’s mind off the flight.”
Jia sighed. “The nano-AR room isn’t big enough for everyone, even with tricks. That cuts out a lot of possibilities. I don’t think eating together will be enough, especially when most of us aren’t eating at the same times.”
“Not food. Something more active.” Erik shook his head. “We need something we’re all doing together, something that pushes us out of our comfort zones so we’re forced to mix, and we can’t retreat to hang out with the people we already know. If we weren’t already in space, I’d say we should all hit a bar together.”
“That’s not practical.”
“Someone needs to invent roving bar ships.” Erik nodded at Jia. “This cuts both ways. It’s not like you’re going out of your way to talk to the fresh meat, either.”
Jia huffed. “And you are?”
“I’ve talked to Kant a little. Turns out he’s a vet, too.” Erik laughed. “I assumed assault infantry, but he was a combat engineer. He did some quick tours and then joined the ID. Nice enough guy despite looking like a changeling customized for bar fights.”
Jia nodded. “He seemed that way to me, too. I did briefly run into Wei the other day. He lamented that we haven’t had a party. Lanara made it very clear he couldn’t drink yet, but I’m sure he’d love your roving bar ship plan.”
Erik chuckled. “It’s not like we’re going to lock him up if he has the system produce alcohol. Did she do something?”
“From what Wei indicated, she…” Jia grimaced at the memory. “She suggested using his blood as a lubricant if he pissed her off.”
“She asked for the help, and now she’s grouchy about having to bring them up to speed.” Erik laughed. “That’s so her. What about the woman?”
Jia shook her head. “I’ve gotten a couple of sentences out of her, but I think she’s more shy than anything. A shy engineer better with machines than people isn’t a shocking anomaly.”
Erik snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. I’ve got the perfect solution that doesn’t involve everyone getting drunk.”
“What?” Jia asked, letting her dubiousness show on her face.
“It was something I used to do with my unit all the time.”
“I thought this plan didn’t involve alcohol?”
“It doesn’t. It’s a great way to break the ice, and no pressure or risk of injury unless you’re a total moron. It’s also something that won’t take a lot of space.” Erik looked around the galley. “It’s a bit too cramped here, but we can use the cargo bay to have our fun and be comfortable.”
“The cargo bay?” Jia asked, trying to imagine the possibilities.
Knowing Erik and what he’d said, she assumed it was some sort of physical activity, but he obviously wouldn’t want sparring matches. Janessa and Malcolm wouldn’t stand a chance, and Lanara would stab anyone who tried to hit her. Later, she’d probably cut the gravity and oxygen to their cabin.
Something grander and theoretically less violent like a sports match wasn’t practical aboard the Argo. There was space in the cargo bay, but with the flitters, scout bikes, exoskeletons, and supplies, there wasn’t enough room left for any decent game.
If they could use all three dimensions, it would be different. Jia could have gotten behind a sphere ball match, but they didn’t have enough players. Also, that activity would end with Lanara stabbing someone or suffocating them.
“Yeah.” Erik nodded, more to himself than Jia. “The cargo bay’s perfect for what I have in mind.”
Jia’s brow lifted. “Why do I get nervous when you say there’s no risk of injury unless someone’s a total moron?”
Erik pushed off the table and stood. “We just need to print up a board and some darts.”
“Oh.” Jia blinked. “Darts. That shouldn’t end with any stabbings.”
Erik stopped on his way to the door and looked over his shoulder. “Stabbings?”
Chapter Thirty-One
Every human on board the Argo stood in a loose gaggle in the front of the cargo bay.
Erik had been surprised by how readily Anne and Lanara agreed to his suggestion, the former because of her remaining obvious disdain for him and the latter because of her monomaniacal obsession with engineering over everything else, let alone games.
He wasn’t going to complain because besides wanting to promote interaction with the new crew, he was now craving a good game of darts.
Certain realities about Lanara’s participation became clear when the engineer ran over to where he was setting up the dartboard.
She pointed near the top. “It needs to be farther up.” She tapped her PNIU and slowly lifted her finger, her eyes narrowed. “Another 1.27 centimeters. Adjust it now, Blackwell.”
Erik stared at the woman. “Huh? This is good enough. It’s not like we’re having a professional championship match.”
Lanara glared at him. “You know why I agreed to this pointless waste of time, Blackwell?”
“Because you love friendly competition or darts?” Erik offered in a hopeful tone.
Lanara scoffed. “No, because I wanted to visually confirm the efficiency of some of the grav emitter modifications I finished up the other day for the cargo bay.” She gestured around the area. “This is a good way to do it, but to do my best evaluation, I need to ensure we’re dealing with a game of darts that involves overlapping the grav fields in a particular way, which needs that board to be up another 1.27 centimeters.” She hurried over to the board and moved it. “We’ll need the board here and the throw line…” She tapped her PNIU. “Emma, can you help me out here?”
A holographic white line appeared a couple of meters in front of where the feisty engineer was hanging the board. She glanced back and forth a couple of times before nodding with a satisfied look and heading toward the line.
“Make sure they aren’t playing in order of height, Emma,” Lanara ordered, sweeping the gathered humans with her gaze. “I’m recording all of this to help with my diagnostics. I don’t give a crap if you embarrass yourself, but you might.”
“Don’t scare them off, Lanara.” Erik laughed. “Try to have some fun, people. I’m pretty damned good, but I’m not unbeatable.”
Kant gestured at Erik’s left arm. “No offense, but you’re not going to be using that, right?”
“You got a problem with hardware?” Erik asked, keeping his smile and light tone.
Lanara wasn’t the only one who could use the game to evaluate something. While he hoped a little friendly competition would help the newly expanded team gel, this was as good as time as any to explore their personalities deeper than their introductions on Earth and the brief conversations they had shared onboard. He could deal with someone who didn’t like hardware, but h
e’d rather have it out in the open rather than dealing with simmering resentments in the field.
“Nah.” Kant shrugged. “I don’t give two shits about Purists if that’s what you’re getting at, but, brother, I’m a competitive guy, and I don’t want any unfair advantages. A cybernetic arm is an unfair advantage.”
Erik rotated his arm. “I’m right-handed, and my hardware’s all left. All I have to do is not use it for anything other than holding my darts. How does that sound?”
“Sounds fair.” Kant smiled.
“Sinister,” Janessa offered. She gasped and clapped a hand to her head. “Sorry.”
Everyone turned her way, but she looked down at the deck and shuffled her feet. She gulped and took deep, careful breaths.
“No one’s ever called my arm sinister before.” Erik chuckled. “They’ve called it a lot of other things close to that. Same question to you. I know it’s strange that I didn’t get it regrown, but I’ve got my reasons, and it works for me.”
“I-I find cybernetics fascinating, actually,” Janessa stammered. “I’d never want to get augmented, but that’s not what I was talking about. It’s Latin. That’s what I meant.”
“My arm is Latin?” Erik’s brow lifted. He was beyond confused. A quick look at Jia only earned him a shrug and a confused look.
“’Sinister’ is left in Latin and ‘dexter’ is right.” Janessa managed to lift her head but didn’t make eye contact. “But the ancients didn’t trust left-handed people, so the word slowly changed from meaning that to something more negative. You see that in a lot of languages, and several also have their version of right also meaning right. I mean, right as in correct.”
“Oh.” Erik gave her a polite nod. “Didn’t know that. Never thought about it that way before. Funny how things work out.”
Something approaching a smile broke out on Janessa’s face. He could deal with a shy trivia-obsessed engineer. He hoped Lanara wasn’t too hard on her.
“Let’s get to the reason we’re here.” Erik clapped his hands together and gestured to a tray filled with trios of darts sitting on top of a cargo crate a couple of meters away. “All the colors of the rainbow plus white, but otherwise the same weight and balance. The system has the specs if you want to print your own for the next time we do this.”
Desperate Measures Page 23
