The Transporter's Favor

by C. M. Simpson

  “Since when does she think I can do that?”

  “Since you owe her a favor, and it transferred to Mack as an additional contract.”

  Oh, yeah. There had been that, hadn’t there?

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  I shrugged. Whatever. We had more important shit to do than worry about the rest of it. The scans from Rigel’s Banter showed a few more habitats than the map Delight had pulled up. Tens shunted them back through the data stream, adding the new data to the board.

  “I want maps,” Delight said, then added. “Tens, you’re in charge of the intel gathering. I have training to do.”

  I registered Tens’s feeling of surprise, and shrugged it off. I’d seen Delight’s training regime; it was a miracle she was letting the three of us play in the data while the rest of the team worked that hard.

  “It’s necessary. We need the data, and we don’t have time to fuck around.”

  Whatever.

  I went looking for the linkages that would either get me the habitat schematics, or would get me out onto the habs, themselves, so I could draft up the schematics, with an internal deck scan. This was gonna take a bit…

  “Cas and I’ll take these,” Rohan said, highlighting two I hadn’t noticed.

  “And I’ve got those,” Tens added, painting the three to the other side of the one I’d chosen.

  For a moment, I was torn between frustration at having others do what I’d set for myself, and relief that I wouldn’t have to work alone—and then I found the path I’d been looking for.

  The first hab was on the edge of the asteroid belt, and it surprised me by being more heavily shielded than the mining HQ. Why was that?

  I slid through the comms link between Rigel’s and what the mining company had termed Rumah Aman Tiga. ‘Tiga’, huh. I had no idea what language that was based on, but it wasn’t any of the Gals I’d ever heard of. My guess it was an old Terran tongue, the whos and whys I could figure out later.

  “Exactly,” Tens agreed, from a hab termed ‘Rumah Aman Enam’.

  How exactly he was connecting to me across the empty space between the habitats, without using the comms route, I’d work out later, but it was probably linked in to the way he could be both inside and outside his head, at once. I just wished I could do the same.

  “Don’t sweat it, kiddo. You can do other things just fine.”

  What? Like piss people off?

  He was laughing as he broke the link. Seemed like he’d found a layer of security that needed more than a third of his attention. And speaking of which…

  I took a long, close look at the security layer I’d found. Well, he was kinda cute… and the security construct blushed a beauty.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Your visit is unscheduled. How may I be of service?”

  “I require schematics to assist with my investigation,” I told him, and sensed surprise, which he covered quickly.

  “In that case, allow me to give you the grand tour.”

  “Thank you, but I’d prefer to explore on my own. If you could provide a schematic to guide me…”

  He tutted, and shook his head.

  “I’m afraid that’s outside company regulations,” he said. “If you would follow me.”

  Well, this was downright inconvenient.

  I unhooked two hound-doggie search programs and sent them to find the schematics, and then I put a third program into play, before prepping a layer of defense.

  “I’m sure there’s no need for all that.”

  And just how in the Hell did he know what I was doing?

  “All what?” I asked. “Why don’t you lead the way?”

  “Very well. As you know the Astarnum Mining Consortium is a subsidiary of the Selimen Consortium, that extracts ore and minerals from asteroid belts the universe over. This is one of the prime habitats in which its workers are housed so that they can enjoy premium quality rest and recuperation while off-shift. Longer periods are spent away from the habitat.”

  And that was where I caught it—the first hint of deception. I was pretty willing to bet the workers no more spent time away from the habitat, than they did away from the mines.

  “Show me,” I said. “The investigation requires a complete report on worker living conditions.”

  The construct hesitated, eyeing me carefully.

  “Whom did you say you worked for?” it asked, and the first of the warning programs I’d set on the periphery of my head, went off.

  “I didn’t,” I said, as the second alarm, and the first defense measure tripped. I tried to sound surprised. “You’re a wet-wire?”

  I’d give him this, he’d been a pretty good wettie, but I’d picked him up earlier, and just needed to confirm it. Programs, I could sneak by, but wet-wires were a whole ’nother story, and I was going to have to silence this one before he blabbed about the intrusion into his systems.

  “I… uh…”

  “Sorry, dude,” I said, and blasted him with one of the nastier programs I’d inherited from Odyssey’s bag of dirty tricks. “We’ll come check you out as soon as we can.”

  “You wha—” but that was as far as he got, and I knew, somewhere in the hab’s control centre, he’d hit the floor unconscious, and wouldn’t be able to be revived for the next few weeks. His only hope was that there were protocols in place that meant he’d be slapped into a stasis pod before his vitals went off-line—and that wasn’t something I could guarantee.

  I hit the link with a secondary program that would lock his head down, too, which meant there’d be no hope of retrieving anything from his implant about what had happened until he revived—it was the only way I could try and twist the mining corporation’s arm to keep him alive. They might not give two pints of crap about their man, but they’d sure as shit want to know what had happened to their system, and the only way they had of finding out was to keep him alive, until they could access his implant. It would have to do.

  Trying to push away the idea I might have hurt an innocent, and a cute one at that, I dove into the habitat’s system, breaking into security cameras, traffic logs, and personnel files like there was no tomorrow. Didn’t take me long to wish I’d fried the wettie’s brain, instead. Anyone who wanted to keep secrets like these deserved a long and painful death.

  The miners didn’t get any rest and recuperation—none that counted, anyway. They were kept in stasis until a slot opened up in the workforce, which happened at an all-too-regular rate. Their bunks were the equivalent of small regen tanks, since it was cheaper to mend them than replace them, and they were rotated through wake cycles on a forty-eight hourly basis, kept going the extra hours on stim packs.

  Even with regen, mortality rates were high, but the productivity rates made it even, cost-wise. I wondered if we could put the oligarch into the work regime without anyone noticing, because…

  “Just get the numbers, Cutter. These things are rigged to blow, and we’re gonna want to find a way to stop that from happening, if we’re to get them out alive.”

  Tens. Voice of reason. My sanity for the moment.

  I shut the rage away, and went through the logs and inventories, digging up the schematics and sending them over to him for input, and then I scanned the belt using the habitat’s systems, and dug out a few more maps of where they worked their miners. There was nothing that looked like it was big enough to hold the HMTs and their shells, though.

  On the upside, I’d found Bennett’s missing agents. The bad news was I didn’t think either of them were going to last much longer—and while it looked like they’d gotten exactly what they deserved, I didn’t think anyone deserved this.

  Biting down on the anger, I moved over to the next habitat, this time greeting the wettie concierge with a short and precise blast that put him out before he’d finished telling me my visit was unscheduled.

  “Your services are not required,” I snarled, and went through the hab’s syst
ems like the proverbial whirlwind, scraping every last ounce of data that I could, before neutralizing the explosives rigged to destroy the evidence of Astarnum’s illegal activities.

  Tens joined me in the third habitat.

  “Whatcha got?” he asked, and I showed him the results of the scans.

  “Not bad,” he said, and I knew he was plotting them on the somewhat deficient map Delight had produced earlier. “You know we need to go back, right?”

  We did? But…

  “We’ve been at this for close on six hours.”

  We had? But…

  “We need to close it up and let Abby and Bennett take over while we sleep.”

  But…

  “So, you need to take a quick look at the scans you’ve got, and give them some direction, and then I’ll take us back.”

  He would? Well, I guessed that would be a lot easier than me trying to retrace my steps through the net. Because, that was a really long way away from here, and he was right—I sure as shit needed to sleep.

  “Not now, you don’t. Why don’t you tell us what’s next?”

  And I needed to eat.

  “Focus, Cutter.”

  Oh, yeah. I made myself concentrate, and took a good, close look at the scans we’d pulled, but they showed nothing that looked like what we needed. None of the mine sites were big enough. Same was true of what Rohan brought us, although…

  I took a closer look at the scans taken from the two habs he’d identified before I had, and then I cross-referenced the traffic schedules.

  “Those,” I said highlighting two shuttle trails that led into the asteroid belt, but not to any of the mining operations we’d identified. “Tell Abs and Bennett, we need to know where those are going.”

  “Gotit,” Abs said, appearing out of the ether as only she could do.

  She’d dragged Bennett along for the ride, and he was looking like he’d learned a new trick he couldn’t wait to try out. I got the impression the two of them were giving Rohan, Tens, Cas, and me the once over, and then Abby spoke.

  “You four need some serious sack time, a meal—and a jolly good kicking for this little stunt.”

  I stared at her, not quite sure why she looked so cross, but she snapped her fingers and the four of us were surrounded by a dark sphere that cut her completely from view. When it slid out from around us, I found myself alone, and in my own head, staring across the table at a stunned Tens and Rohan. Man, that was an awesome trick. I wondered if she’d teach me some time.

  “You wish,” Delight snapped, and, for some reason she seemed even more outraged than usual.

  She turned on Tens.

  “Eight…” She glanced at the time piece on the wall. “Ten! Ten hours, Tensor Tennyson. Ten! What the fuck did you think you were doing?”

  Ten hours? But Tens had said it had only been for six.

  He caught the thought, caught my eye, and shrugged.

  “I lied.”

  Which made me smirk.

  He’d lied? Since when had he ever? And why would he start now?

  “Since I knew you’d stay awake if I told you six, but would probably fall over if I told you the truth.”

  And why hadn’t he pulled me out earlier?

  It was a good thing I was still looking at his face, or I’d have missed it going slightly pink.

  “You lost track of the time?” I managed, and he nodded, the pink becoming crimson and sweeping down his neckline.

  Rohan snickered, but he looked tired, and pale. Cascade had his head resting on the boy’s lap, his ears pricked as he tilted it this way and that.

  “I ought to throw all four of you in the brig,” Delight snapped, and we looked at her, “but I’m going to feed you, instead, and then have your captain make sure you hit the racks before you fall the Hell over.”

  Sure, she was, I thought, not believing a single word she said—even as the door slid open and several crew walked in carrying trays.

  Wow. We must have done something right.

  That earned me a look, followed by a glance at the modified maps.

  “Yeah, shit-for-brains, you could say that. Now, eat. We want you asleep, before Wanderer goes to warp.”

  That sounded like a plan to me. I wondered how many of her team had made it through the first phase of training Wanderer had had planned, and her face clouded.

  “Not as many as I’d like,” she said, “especially as we’re moving this operation up. Get your sleep, kiddo. We hit Rigel’s Banter in three days’ time.”

  Three days?

  That was going to be rough.

  30—A Feint to the Left

  The trip to Rigel’s Banter would have been rougher if Mack hadn’t dumped us all into pods for the duration. I’d kinda been hoping for another run through the Banter’s systems, and maybe a hop-and-skip out into the habs and off to wherever those shuttles had gone, but he was having none of it—and, from what I could gather, Tens was faring no better.

  We all emerged just after Wanderer came out of the last warp. Mack looked a little green around the gills, so I guessed he’d emerged either during the last stages, or just after. Either way, he was by my pod when it opened, and shifted me bodily into the san before I was fully awake.

  “Get clean and gear up,” he’d ordered, and I noticed the light armor and reinforced underwear set out ready for a mission. Here was hoping this one didn’t involve airlocks and EVAs.

  Hell! Who was I kidding? We were heading into the heart of an asteroid mining operation, right next to wolf terr…i…tory… Oh, Stars above and around.

  “Mack!” I shouted, nudging him with the implant as I got myself clean in near-record time. “Mack! We gotta check this out!”

  I was pretty sure he’d been about to tell me to shut up, but that last line really got his attention. Instead, he stepped into the implant, and glowered at me.

  “Don’t make me lock you down so hard you can’t squeak on your own.”

  What the fuck?

  “No. Look. Remember the first trip through Vameran’s Arc.”

  His eyebrows lifted.

  “Gotcha,” he said. “I’ll get Abs to check that out. Good thinking, Cutter. Now get dressed.”

  As if he knew just how undressed I currently was!

  “Don’t make me come in there!”

  That had possibilities.

  “Cutter!”

  I blushed. He hadn’t been meant to pick up that last thought. My mind had kinda been going rogue, and I’d missed him. Shoving that thought aside, before he could respond…or worse, Tens or Delight, or—and I felt my face grow hot at the thought—Stars forbid—Rohan, who was far too young for such things.

  “You wish!” was not what I wanted to hear, and the brat popped back out of my head, laughing fit to burst.

  Going three rounds to put the little shit back in his place was starting to look like a necessity. We had no time, though—and no time to heal, after, anyway—so I changed the subject.

  “Rohan, did you see anything in the delivery manifests to the Rumah Aman that would identify the ships bringing the miners in?”

  “Checking,” came as a Rohan and Tens duet, and my guess was that the only reason Abby didn’t join them was that she was too busy checking the jump point from Vameran’s Arc into the asteroid belt for traffic.

  That little hole had been in the wolf’s neighborhood for so long, I’d have been surprised if they hadn’t worked out a way to leverage it.

  I was dressed and wondering where my weapons were before anyone had time to respond, when the next thought crossed my tiny little mind. Given it wasn’t in Mack’s remit, and that Rohan, Tens and Abby were busy with other things, I only had one other person to turn to—and rather than nudge that system, I just started talking, knowing the ship would pick up my voice and, hopefully, respond.

  “Hey, Wanderer, what other ships are in-system?”

  Because there had to
be some, right?

  It might be the ass-end of the universe, but it was still at a junction between two shifter territories, and it was a major mining centre, despite the fact it didn’t advertise much—and that meant there had to be some kind of trade going on, probably illicit, but still there, and that meant there had to be ships, in-system, or leaving, or something. Right?

  “Correct,” Wanderer answered. “There should be ships in-system. I am picking up traces, but finding no ships. Message traffic contains indications that the knowledge of Oligarch Costoganzi’s capture has reached the sector ahead of us, and the mining company is continuing its operations at an increased pace in order to harvest as much ore as possible before Odyssey arrives to close it down. Ships departed the system shortly thereafter. I do not know when they will return, or in what numbers. There was talk of ‘other measures’ being in place.”

  “The charges…” I began, remembering the explosives set to blow the laborer’s habitats.

  “It was fortunate your team deactivated them. Impulses were sent within minutes of me arriving in-system. Lives that would have been lost have been saved…although, I strongly suggest non-mining personnel aboard the habitats be rendered inactive before they decide to manually destroy the evidence, so to speak.”

  “Done,” Delight said, interrupting. “Teleporting Teams Six and Four. Wanderer, initiate a bounce jump as each team requests.”

  “Done, and done,” Wanderer replied. “Nice talking with you, Cutter.”

  The ship left my head, but Delight did not. I swear I could see her tapping her foot. Inside my skull. It was kind of annoying.

  “Get your ass to the briefing room, kid. Your weapons are waiting.”

  Up until that point, I’d been sort of just standing in the san and staring at the door. It had been a closed door, but now it was wide open, and I was looking at Mack. His chest, mainly. It wasn’t a bad sight, even covered in armor.

  “That’s how you usually see it, Cutter. Why the admiration, now?”

  Well, shit!

  “Get out of my head, Mack.”

  He smirked, and gave me a slantways look, and I pretended he hadn’t caught me remembering how he’d looked in the wolf pens, no matter how fast I’d shut it away after he’d asked the question.