“Let’s go,” I ordered.
I walked back in the other direction, but when I didn’t hear any footsteps behind me, I paused and glanced back over my shoulder. The child continued to cry, but Aria watched in silence as Elios’s remains drifted into the darkness, never to be found again...
Aria didn’t stick around for long after that day. She stayed behind on Mars to find honest work, and I set off to continue doing what I did best alone. Until Zhaff was forced on me, at least. We’d exchange the occasional message over Solnet, but it’d been a year since the last time she responded, and the only words she wrote back were NOT ON MARS ANYMORE. It was clear she didn’t want to be found, and this time, she wouldn’t make it easy for me. As far as I knew, she could be anywhere in Sol.
Sometimes I thought about asking Pervenio Corp to track her down so I’d know she was all right, but I didn’t have the spare credits, and there was no reason to tell them about her existence now. Considering her streetwalking mother dumped her at my feet, Aria was an unsanctioned, illegal child born from parents who weren’t cleared for mating by the USF. People like her were considered illegitimates. My position probably could have kept me out of a cell if anyone found out, but I kept her a secret regardless. Director Sodervall would’ve never approved of me dragging her with me on assignments and winding up distracted. After deciding to keep her, my plan had always been to train her so well that when I did reveal her existence, he’d have no problem with us remaining partners.
I sighed. There was no worrying about that anymore. Illegitimates could get around the world they were born on with relative ease, but traveling between planets was difficult without a “real” identity. Apparently, I’d taught Aria enough for her to figure out how to get off Mars and travel throughout Sol without needing one. It was hard not to feel at least the slightest bit of pride about that.
I pulled out my hand-terminal and swiped the screen until I reached Aria’s contact information. I just wanted to see her picture. I’d taken it right before I first sent her to see Elios. She was looking back at me with the spunky smile on her face that she always wore when she was happy. Her pretty red hair was tossed haphazardly over her shoulder. She never did care much about how it looked. Her necklace and the Ark Ship pendant, which I now carried with me, hung proudly over her shirt. She had no clue I’d used it back then to track her until one day when she ripped it off, threw it at me, and vanished.
I typed another message into my hand-terminal that I knew she wouldn’t answer. It was all I could do. I took my time, making sure my numb fingers were striking the correct keys.
ARIA… I HOPE YOU’RE OKAY. I DON’T KNOW IF YOU HEARD, BUT THERE WAS A BOMBING IN NEW LONDON BY AN OFFWORLDER. IT CUT THE M-DAY ADDRESS SHORT, SO I HOPE SECURITY ISN’T TOO TIGHT WHEREVER YOU ARE.
I’M OUT IN THE WILDERNESS ON EARTH, NOT A STAR IN SIGHT. IF I DON’T FREEZE TO DEATH OUT HERE, I SHOULD BE BRINGING IN A NICE HAUL FOR FINDING THE BOMBER.
“Malcolm, they’re approaching,” Zhaff said, poking his head around the structure of the ruin.
I’d been so invested in choosing the right words that I didn’t even hear him approaching. The hand-terminal slipped from my hands and hit the frozen dirt.
“Dammit, Zhaff!” I yelled. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“You said to inform you when they were close.”
“I…” I groaned. “I’m coming.” My heart raced until he turned and walked away. I wasn’t prepared to let him in on the existence of my daughter. I groped at the ground and found my hand-terminal. It was pure luck the thing hadn’t broken.
I lifted it up and reread what I’d already written. As I did, the hum of anti-grav engines greeted my ears from outside. The emptiness of the derelict city made it resonate so loudly, I could feel my ribs vibrate. I wiped off the screen of my hand-terminal and then finished the message with the first words that popped into my freezing head.
I MIGHT NOT GET A CHANCE TONIGHT, SO HAVE A DRINK ON M-DAY FOR ME… DAD.
I took a deep breath, stared at the screen for a moment longer, and sent the message off to the Solnet laser relays before I could second-guess myself.
A bright spotlight shone down from the descending airship as I stepped outside, allowing me to make out its silhouette. It was a standard inter-atmosphere Pervenio carrier with broad red wings that housed rolling 360-degree anti-grav engines on the underside. It had the look of a stingray I’d seen a picture of in a pre-Meteorite museum, minus the tail.
A unit of Pervenio security officers hurried down the aft ramp once the landing gear touched down. They kept their pulse-rifles aimed while they spread out and secured the landing zone, as if there were anything to fear out in the wilderness. Pervenio officers never miss an opportunity to show off how well trained they are.
Zhaff saluted them as they approached. I thought about it but settled on a nod. My arms were getting too stiff for me to be willing to muster the energy for anyone other than Luxarn Pervenio himself strolling down the ramp.
“The body is over here,” Zhaff said.
The officers quickly pulled out a shrink bag and got to stuffing the body in. Once they were finished, they carried it onto the ship.
“You two coming?” the leader of the unit asked.
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” I responded, relieved. I beat Zhaff to the ramp and wasted no time climbing up. Warm air washed over me from an exhaust vent and started to thaw my aching joints.
I crossed the cabin to an empty seat and pulled down my restraints. Zhaff sat in the spot next to me, his eye-lens poring over his hand-terminal. Once the ship took off, he turned to me and said, unemotionally, “We’ve been requested to travel to Titan.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. I’d been expecting the next message from the Pervenio directors to concern my failure, but he’d definitely said we.
“Titan?” I asked. “But we’ve already caught the Ringer here.” I yanked out my own hand-terminal and checked for a message from Director Sodervall. There was none. Nothing from Aria yet either… as usual.
“Further examination of the blast site in New London has determined it was accompanied by a directional EMP burst with a limited range,” Zhaff said.
“Makes sense,” I said. “My hand-terminal acted a little extra screwy around the area shortly after.”
“The EMP was used to provide cover while a small group of Ringers infiltrated the nearby Pervenio hospital.”
“The explosion was a diversion. So our suicidal friend back there really did want to be caught.” Suddenly, the sloppiness of the Ringer we chased out into the middle of nowhere wasn’t so peculiar. We did precisely what he wanted. Hell, he’d probably plopped down next to me in the Molten Crater on purpose, knowing I was a collector and would be put on his trail.
Zhaff nodded. “It appears so. Supplies and documents crucial to the operations of Pervenio Corp were stolen from the hospital during the blackout. USF security has locked down all grounded ships on Earth without special clearance for investigation; however, it was likely too late. The stolen property is small in scale and would have been easy to smuggle through private transportation anywhere outside New London if that was the intent of the Ringers.”
“So Pervenio wants us on Titan for, what, to try and head them off?” I said, desperate not to show the sudden sense of inadequacy that stole over me from missing so many clues.
“Yes, immediately,” he said. “We are to depart for the Ring from Luna Station, locate the smuggled supplies, and apprehend whoever was behind this attack.”
“Sounds simple enough.”
“I have also been instructed to inform you that the successful completion of this task will result in payment equal to that of your reward for eliminating the bomber. This ship is returning us to New London. We will subsequently be provided passage on a passenger liner departing Luna tomorrow and meet with Director Sodervall at Pervenio station orbiting Saturn.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Perfe
ct. I’m getting tired of Earth anyway. Guess I can put aside my plans for Europa for now.”
Zhaff’s eye-lens focused on me like he was trying to figure out what I was talking about. I stifled a grin and closed my eyes. I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on or why only Zhaff had been contacted, but I couldn’t afford to care. This was one more chance. It almost didn’t even matter what the pay was going to be. That was just a bonus that would make up for the fifty thousand credits I’d lost when the Ringer blew his own brains out. Even if I had to work with Zhaff again, and be on the freezing moon of Titan, I wasn’t about to complain.
I’d been there on more than a few occasions in my lifetime, considering my primary handler served in the Ring, so I knew how frosty the locals could be. They went out of their way to make assignments trickier. Unlike immigrants in other colonies—who were mostly recently displaced Earthers with no affinity with the place they’d come to live—the Ringers of Titan weren’t really immigrants at all. Not anymore at least. With gas-harvesting efforts on Saturn continuing to flourish, new immigrants flocked from Earth every year, forcing the Ringers to work for lower pay just to gain employment. The generations of people dating back three centuries who’d grown up there didn’t take kindly to that. The Ring was their home.
For all those reasons and more, I didn’t even think to ask about what specifically the Ringers had stolen. It was irrelevant. Collectors got our hands dirty so our employers didn’t have to, and in doing so, we helped preserve the relative peace Sol had enjoyed since the Meteorite struck. That was my job. Concerns about retirement could wait.
It was after midnight when we finally arrived back in New London. Just in time to enjoy the better parts of M-day. Security still patrolled the streets along the Euro-String rail station en masse, but I had no reason to stay on them with all the festivities moved inside. I invited Zhaff along but, as expected, he declined. Not that I minded. After the day we had, I needed some time away from him before I snapped. Instead, he disappeared to wherever it was Cogents stayed to finish his report. I only hoped it wouldn’t reach the directors before I was safely aboard the transport to Titan, on my way to another assignment.
I headed into the first club I saw. It didn’t matter how crowded it was with patrons and security officers at that point. Payment for bringing the Ringer bomber in dead had come through at some point before I arrived. It was half what it would’ve been had I listened to Zhaff and waited to confront him, but it was still enough for me to have no trouble enjoying that night and plenty of others.
I took a seat at the bar and ordered the strongest drink they had. Whatever it was, it felt like it was burning a hole in my belly as it went down. When I ordered a second, I noticed Trevor Cross sitting across from me. His head was sunken, his hat crooked, and he wore a sling on his arm. Seeing him helped me remember that fifty thousand credits were better than nothing. I’d gotten the job done. It wasn’t the right way or the best way, but it was done.
I tipped my drink toward him and grinned. The booze had my eyelids feeling nice and heavy, so I probably added a little more insult to it than I should’ve, considering I was the reason for his sling. When he finally noticed me, he gritted his teeth, got up, and walked away.
A young woman wearing a tight, shimmering red dress promptly took his spot and must’ve thought my grin was intended for her. She smiled back and moved to sit at the stool next to me. My luck was improving. She had all the curves an Earther woman should have.
I wasn’t too drunk to register—after a few minutes of conversation—that she was a working girl, but I didn’t mind. Who was I to judge how anyone made their credits? I already had a room rented in the city anyway, and I planned on enjoying my last hours on Earth as much as I could.
Pretty girls from Earth used to throw themselves at me when I was young and handsome. They’d ask about what the rest of Sol was like or where I was coming from. I’d tell them stories about my most dangerous assignments, embellish a little, and enjoy a wonderful evening before running out on them the next morning. Collectors moved around too much to get attached easily, and I wasn’t keen on winding up in a clan-family like my parents’.
I bought myself and the woman in red a round of the most expensive liquor in the place. Once my glass was filled, I raised it for a toast. “Let’s enjoy the dying whimpers of another M-Day passed,” I said.
“Another year,” she replied, her ruby lips lifting into a smile.
I tapped the bottom of her glass with mine. “Another year.”
TEN
Somehow, I managed to wake up the next morning just in time to catch the rail to New London Spaceport. After jostling through a healthy gathering of Three Messiah preachers spewing their usual lines about Armageddon, thanks to the Ringer attack, I met Zhaff at our gate. Running had me feeling nauseous. We were led onto a shuttle bound for the USF station on Luna.
The ionic impulse drives used in space didn’t have the thrust to escape Earth’s gravity well, so it took proper rockets to reach Luna. That helped the moon thrive as the largest ship-manufacturing plant in the entire solar system, where vessels of all types could come and go as they pleased thanks to its low g. Most sizable transport vessels were constructed there, including Hermes and a few other Ark ships that had been sent out into the great unknown through the decades.
Zhaff didn’t say much during the twelve-or-so-hour ascension to Luna, and I was grateful for it. Weightlessness wasn’t helping with my hangover, and neither were the few nearby passengers who were new to space travel and vomiting. I was worried if I opened my mouth for anything but breathing, I was going to join them. So I napped as much as I could, and when I couldn’t, I stole glances out the viewport down at Earth, imagining how it might’ve looked when it comprised less brown and blue, and more green.
When we touched down on Luna, her meager force of gravity tugged on me and settled my stomach. We were quickly transferred to a tram bound for one of the station’s larger, inter-Sol hangar bays.
Locals were hard at work in every area we passed. They were halfway toward looking like full-on offworlders, though their pasty skin was concealed by the layer of soot that came from working in the most factory-laden place in Sol. Even the largest asteroid colonies couldn’t compare. Close to two million people lived on the moon at any given time, with shifts of worker-immigrants constantly rotating to and from Earth.
“How’d you sleep?” I asked, finally feeling healthy enough to speak.
“On my back,” Zhaff said.
I was in no mood to offer a response to that. His devotion to logic was starting to seem like sarcasm after enough time with him, even though I figured it wasn’t. I stayed quiet for a few moments, and then said, “So they find out more about that bomber?”
“Further scans couldn’t locate a match for him in any database on Titan,” Zhaff replied.
“Well, he didn’t come from nowhere.”
“According to you,” he said, “he planned to be caught. It is possible whoever he is working with erased every trace of him ahead of time.”
“Altering the recorded DNA of any relatives, deleting the genetic trail… It’d take more than your average hacker to do that.”
“Or direct access to the mainframes on Pervenio Station,” Zhaff countered. “There are thousands of inhabitants around the Ring working in medical labs, with sixty-seven percent having been born on Titan.”
“Whatever they did, they made him a ghost,” I said softly. I pictured the man’s colorless face before the gunshot went off. It gave me goosebumps. The Ringer was willing to die for his cause without even needing a name of his own. No credits, no renown. Nothing.
“Pervenio will let us know if they discover anything further,” Zhaff said as our tram slowed down.
“They won’t find a thing.”
It was years of experience speaking, but I didn’t have a single doubt about it. I’d dealt with plenty of illegitimate offworlders trying not to be found. Hell, I’d f
athered one. Very few of them had both the connections and killer-instinct to bomb Earth just to create a distraction. Whoever the nameless Ringer was working for or with, they were good, and I had a feeling we’d come face-to-face with them sooner rather than later if we kept on our path.
The tram came to a complete halt outside our departure bay, where the tremendous passenger liner scheduled to carry us to Titan was already waiting. The thing was easily half a kilometer long, and taller than most of the buildings down on Earth. The blocky hull was made up of a patchwork of shielded plates that guarded against radiation while crossing open space. When one was too tarnished or developed a breach, they simply tore it off and slapped a new one on, shinier than all the others surrounding it.
At least two hundred other Earther travelers were passing through security to get on. Many of them had large bags packed and wore the hopeful grins of immigrants about to set out on a fantastic new journey. I had no doubt most of them were either naïve or desperate enough to have seen one of the ads begging them to leave Earth and listened. As I looked around at all their faces, I couldn’t help but pity them. Some of the men and women were attractive enough that I knew they could make a better living working the streets of Old Russia than on the Ring, wretched as that was. There were even children being dragged along by their parents. Future offworlders.
“They couldn’t have chartered us something a little nicer?” I said to Zhaff. Not that I wasn’t used to traveling on large passenger liners, but occasionally, Pervenio would set me up on private military ships. It seemed wrong to complain since they fronted all my traveling expenses and the hopeful immigrants in line around us had probably sold everything of value they owned to buy passage to Titan.
“The only other public ships scheduled to depart Luna Station today are heading to Mars,” Zhaff replied. “The next one set to depart for Titan won’t leave for another two weeks.”
Titanborn: (Children of Titan Book 1) Page 10
