Belters

by Greg Alldredge

  Lea shook her head. The arrangements for the meeting came to her with exacting detail, including the means of transportation into the walled central business district. If Lea had her choice, she would have taken an autonomous aerial vehicle, AAV, from the safe walled compound across the Golden Gate to the rooftop landing pad of the meeting building deep inside the CBD. No need to worry herself with ground transport and the dangers the surface streets entailed.

  Very few drones had been fired upon by surface-to-air missiles. The eco nut jobs had not gained the weapons to take down most aircraft. On the other hand, ground transport remained an easy target. Any crazy with a rock could take a whack at a ground carrier. Not that it would do much good. Anything short of a .50 caliber sniper rifle or a rocket-propelled grenade would bounce off the reinforced hull of the small luxurious tank she rode inside.

  Anyone stupid enough to touch the frame of the private car risked setting off the inbuilt nonlethal security measures. Lea’s ride was an armored taser on wheels. It would take human interaction from her to activate the lethal security systems. Her car was six tons of bulletproof materials wrapped around enough power to carry the ride down the road at a blistering three hundred kilometers per hour.

  The last thing Lea wanted to do was fry some ecojustice warrior for the ever-present security cameras. Her existence relied on a certain level of anonymity. Like the best of hackers and trolls modern society had to offer, Lea needed to keep herself separate from the work she did. If her neighbors ever found out how she made her living, she would be cast out of her exclusive lifestyle. Never mind the people she considered acquaintances worked for corporations that did much worse. Her social circle proved an unforgiving lot.

  The roadway into the CBD had not been completely elevated. Piss-poor city planning as far as Lea was concerned. The slums of the city layered around the impressive towers of modern corporations. A no-man’s-land for the wealthy and influential, and just as dangerous as any combat zone.

  Like a modern-day Troy, an army bent on the siege of the rich camped outside the walls of the CBD. No manner of police and corporate muscle would dislodge the protestors from the street leading to the side gate.

  Before the car reached the mob of homeless skeletons, the drive motor’s whine was matched with the purr of the defense system priming. Lea’s ride sensed the danger they entered and primed the high-voltage, low-amp weapon to defend the precious cargo.

  Outside, the transport boomed an announcement, “Step away from the vehicle or suffer the consequences.”

  None of Asimov’s three laws here. Lea knew the car meant business and would do what was needed to protect her.

  The first person didn’t touch the frame of the vehicle on purpose, rather they were shoved into the side of the ride in what seemed to Lea as a deliberate act of cruelty. The teen who touched the door next to Lea flopped to the ground in spasms as soon as the car touched their outstretched hand.

  It all happened so fast, Lea wasn’t sure if the person was a man or woman. Not that it mattered to the crowd. They howled in anger when the first person went down.

  Not that it was Lea’s fault. It didn’t matter. Facts rarely matter to a lynch mob.

  The security system of the car again announced people should stand back or risk pain and injury.

  The stones started to fly. Impromptu clubs of scavenged lumber slammed against the transport. As ill-informed as the mob might be, they were not all stupid. They knew how to attack the vehicle and not be shocked. The volume inside the car increased but not loud enough to cover the sound of the attacks.

  Two-liter paint cans were lobbed at the front of the car, covering the front windshield and blocking Lea’s view of the gate into the CBD.

  Without help, she would be lucky to reach the safety behind the wall. If the sensors on the car were disabled, she would be screwed. No matter how thick the armor, a determined attack would eventually find a way inside.

  A series of pops and white plumes of smoke was the only indication help was on the way. Despite the heavy filtration system of the vehicle, she tasted the sting of pepper spray. Guards on the wall covered her approach.

  Never to let passengers stress out over the environment, the car increased the oxygen level in the cabin while turning up the volume of the insipid relaxation music. “Remain calm, the situation is under control.” The inane mechanical voice spoke softly to her.

  Today wasn’t the day she’d be pulled from the safety of her ride to be murdered in the streets by club-wielding thugs. Though she expected that might be the way she one day would meet her end.

  Lea relaxed slightly. The way to the CBD cleared under the rain of teargas canisters. The defenders of the gate moved to suppress the crowd. A line of plexiglass shields and truncheons marched toward the transport.

  On the wall, mounted water cannons poised to strike the mob with high-pressure jets of saltwater.

  Lea’s celebration proved to be short-lived. An explosion rocked the car. The storefront next to the gate erupted in a flash, shredding protestors and defenders alike before her eyes. Lea could no longer hear the hum of the drive wheels. The ringing in her ears covered all other sounds. The steady ring of automatic fire pummeled the walls of her chariot.

  On the seatback, a red light flashed, “Authorize lethal force?”

  Lea wasn’t a computer programmer, but she knew the basics. The vehicle that protected her had a set of normal parameters. Once a certain threshold was reached, the program would react in a given way. There was no emotion in the decision-making process.

  The right to kill a human had not been programmed into this machine. Only a human could make that call.

  Lea shouted much too loud. “No!”

  The wheels jumped to life, pushing Lea back into her seat while the mass of the vehicle accelerated headlong toward the gate. The ringing in her ears still blocked out most sound. Her vision swirled.

  The iron taste of blood filled her mouth. A single wipe with the back of her hand left a streak from her bleeding nose. The car protected her from the gas, shrapnel, and bullets, but not the concussion of the blast. The mob that rushed the gate never expected six tons of armored transport to run them down. The car did its best to follow the programing of protecting the occupant from danger while not using the deadly force it came armed with. Someone should have explained the effects of six tons of car accelerating over the squishy humans that littered the road. Those not run over flew through the air as the car bashed them to the curb.

  Thankfully, the ringing in Lea’s ears covered the screams of the people crushed under the automated car.

  “So much for a nice quiet entry into the city…” Lea spit the words to herself.

  She needed to escape this chaos at the first opportunity.

  Clear of the disabled gates, Lea shouted once again. “Stop!”

  The car did as ordered.

  She tried the door handle and found it locked. “Let me out!”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t guarantee your safety if you leave the confines of the car under current conditions.”

  “God damn it, you piece of silicone shit, let me out of the goddamn car.”

  The door popped open, and Lea found herself staring down the muzzle of a bullpup automatic rifle.

  Strangely, she noticed the ice-blue eyes of the young security officer who aimed the weapon at her face. From what she could see of the man’s face, he was a pretty boy.

  She was certain the color of his eyes came from the cornea overlays. He recorded everything that happened, everything he saw. All to be used against her in a court of law. In her world, people were guilty until proven innocent.

  Before he spoke or Lea could make up a lame plea of her innocence, his left cheek disappeared. Bone, teeth, and blood replaced the flawless flesh that once covered the young man’s face.

  The word of terror flashed into Lea’s mind: sniper. Someone over the wall was hell-bent on killing as many people as possible. Never underestim
ate a nut with a gun.

  “Remain calm, the situation is under control.” Lea sensed an impossible tone of worry in the robotic voice. Obviously a projection of her own fears.

  The music volume turned higher still.

  With a dive, she made her way best she could for the nearest alley. There must be more than one sniper cityside. Thankfully, the fire concentrated on the forces that returned fire. Bullets whizzed past her. Her driverless ride did the strangest thing: it backed and turned to provide her what cover it could.

  Safely behind the brick building, on all fours, Lea crawled a safe distance from the pitched battle. Slumping back against the wall, Lea struggled to catch her breath before she struck out for safer ground deeper inside the CBD. She forced herself to not look at the battlefield. Just out of sight, people died for no reason she could think of. If the rabble broke through the security forces, there was no telling what would happen.

  She needed to plot her next move, but there was no time to think. The black robocar that brought her to the party lifted from the ground, flipped over by a mighty explosion. The attackers had brought several RPGs into play.

  It was an escalation of force Lea never expected from the disenfranchised people of econuts in California. The city needed to retaliate in kind. She could think of no other response. This shit was about to get bloodier.

  The explosions that came next turned the battlefield at the CBD gate into a death trap. From high overhead, the overwatch drones let loose their riot suppression missiles. Three of the smart weapons were all it took. They exploded five stories above the top of the wall, peppering the buildings and streets below with armor-penetrating flechettes.

  The people sheltered behind cars or inside buildings never stood a chance. The kinetic energy of the miniature missiles penetrated up to a meter of concrete. The weapon was designed to remove the human or mechanoid from any assault. The weapon worked as designed. Nothing in the blast range escaped.

  Guilty and innocent alike dropped from the brutal onslaught. The little left of the bodies would only be identified with battlefield forensics.

  Lea didn’t hang around long enough to explain why she entered the gate at the very moment the attack began. She doubted anyone would believe it was all a matter of bad luck on her part. Better to depart before the uncomfortable questions were even asked. There was no way this was simply bad timing.

  Someone sent her into that hell hole of a death trap. Unfortunately, she had little to go on, save the letterhead on the request to meet. It came on FlyRight Corporation’s hologram watermark-protected stationery.

  The paper was near impossible to fake. Someone from FlyRight wanted her dead, or someone wanted to frame FlyRight. Her only clue was the letter she carried in her briefcase. The case, in her haste, she forgot in the blown-up transport. She needed to make that meeting to see if anyone came to check on her survival. That was the only move she thought of under the circumstances.

  Whoever set her up must be bright to organize such a large-scale attack on seemingly short notice. Even smarter to figure out who she was and how to bait her into the trap. She didn’t believe she was the main target. There was no delusion anyone thought highly enough of her to commit the resources to take her out in a grand fashion. Rather her presence at the gate was more symbolic in nature.

  Her stalker figured out who she was and what she did for a living, and that she was motivated by gold. The last part wasn’t that hard to figure out.

  They would be crazy to try such a bold plan in broad daylight. The protests outside that gate had been going on for months. The squatter’s demands were met days earlier. The loudest voices left soon afterward. This shit made the newsfeed every night.

  Her adversary was smart and crazy.

  Crazy and smart always proved to be a dangerous mixture.

  Lea worked her way deeper down the backstreets. For now, she needed to make that meeting. She should still get there early, her cautious nature still working to her advantage.

  Hands shook as she pulled an outlawed tobacco cigarette out from a gold case and slipped it into her mouth. The tip started to smoke before she reached the end of the backstreet.

  The sirens of emergency vehicles drew closer with every step she took. She should clear the area just in time. Before the authorities stepped up their sweep. There was no way she would escape the ever-present cameras.

  After this meeting, she would need to disappear for a few weeks. Take a little vacation to let the heat die down.

  Chapter 03:

  AD 2100 Inner Belt – APC11 Miyajima

  The Miyajima’s Captain Riki asked, “Have they made any move to indicate they spotted us?” Despite the perceived gravity created by the ship’s 1G acceleration, the slender Asian woman sat strapped into her command chair.

  Margaret Sweets towered behind the captain’s command chair, hands gripped behind her back in a modified parade rest. There was nothing to do but wait. At current acceleration, they were still at least an hour from reaching the vessel. The slowing to match the speed of the freighter the most aggravating time of the chase.

  “Nothing, sir,” The navigator called back. “The rock’s orbit and the ship tethered to it remain unchanged.”

  Margaret cracked her neck. She wanted to look out the front windscreen. Any window would do, but since there wasn’t a single sheet of glass built into the new model ship, she stood and watched the backs of the crew, longing to see outside.

  Camera arrays mounted to the skin of the ship could call up any view needed, but they relayed little useful information. Even with magnification, the distances in space were normally too great for visual data to provide useful information. The monitors at each station were used to pull up all the data flowing into the ship’s sensors. The information held all the clues to what happened in the big black outside. Truth be told, modern spaceflight was boring, like standing in a moving office space. Waiting for hours, days, or weeks for something to happen.

  Margaret cleared her throat before speaking, “Not to question your orders, Captain, but coming in unannounced, hot, and silent… the scallywags might think we’re pirates. They might decide to attack first.”

  Captain Riki’s voice sounded much sweeter than the words that came from her should have. “Good, that is my hope, Sweets. Let them fear for their lives. The less chance they run, the easier the catch.”

  Sweets pressed her concern. “But the more chance they will fight the boarding party… Trapped animals fight the hardest. If they think we are pirates, they might burrow into that rock like a Texas tick. With nothing to lose, they will fight…”

  “And that is why the Bakshi-Corp pays H and B so well for your security services. I hope I don’t need to remind you, your security detachment answers to me while onboard.” The captain took a sip from her spill-proof coffee cup. It had all the looks of a child’s sippy cup made of stainless steel.

  “No, ma’am. Only I would be derelict in my duties if I didn’t point out the increased cost the armed contact clause incurs to the contract. You run your ship as you see fit. I will prep my team for boarding.”

  “You do that.” Riki dismissed Sweets with a wave of her hand.

  Margaret wasn’t surprised by the captain’s cavalier attitude and video game mentality. All the fast attack craft she served had a zealot sitting in the captain’s chair. Something about being armed while your quarry wasn’t led to some strange ideas of justice.

  Despite the perceived gravity from acceleration, Margaret took her time turning to leave, each step a precise, deliberate action. Storming off the bridge only to fall flat on her face would never have the desired effect. If anything, the squad commander was as cautious with her movements as her combat duties. Rash actions became all the more dangerous in the environment she worked in.

  “And, Sweets, you’re authorized to use deadly force.” Riki’s voice nearly sang the words with excitement when she spoke.

  Margaret ignored the captain. She doubted
anyone on that piece of shit belter ship would put up a fight for the crumbs of a cargo they might carry. Most people valued their lives over any cash that might be gained. Cold, hard cash never looked so impressive when compared to the realities of a cold grave. Once the scallywag crew learned only the captain would be charged, they would quickly surrender. In Sweets’s experience, scoundrels, full of bluster, were normally a cowardly bunch.

  The Miyajima wasn’t near large enough to contain Riki’s ego, but it was several orders of magnitude stronger than any of the belter ships they might encounter out in the belt. The patrol craft had a simple order of engagement. Locate and halt illegal mining of Bakshi-Corp’s claimed assets. It was left up to Riki to use the tactics she thought best to combat the thieves.

  Sweets was pretty sure the captain of the Miyajima would blast any transgressors out of the sky… if she thought she would not be charged. With the abundance of people on Earth, life became all the cheaper to some. Sweets knew most of the criminals they ran into were only trying to scrape out a living. Even though she grew up on Earth, she understood the people they policed.

  It was the belters’ contention no one could own a rock. It was all a matter of first come first serve. The problem was the corporations had better lobbyists in Earth’s governments and lawyers in the courts. The far roaming belters never had a chance. Their voices were too small to matter.

  Sweets never understood the hard-on so many of the corps had for the independent mining operations. In the grand scheme of things, they would never be able to compete with the huge mining combines and the largest rocks they harvested.

  Finally, it dawned on her, it wasn’t so much about the small amount of profit the free miners took from the corporations. It was about control, market share, the perceived scarcity of resources, and the miners’ skills as a factor of production. Until the asteroids could be mined without human intervention, the corps couldn’t have the best miners striking out on their own. If that happened, there would be no one to fill their suits. Automated robots had already replaced so many humans in the workforce. It was only a matter of time before they replaced all the miners.