Authors: M M Buckner
She rested her hand on the case, and Dominic watched her cybernails prod the leather. “Yep, ask.”
“I’m here at your request. Presumably, you need my cooperation. Correct?”
She seemed to think about this. Or perhaps she was listening to Gig through an earplug of her own.
“Because if you do,” he went on, “there are a few things I expect in return. Fair trade, you understand?”
Qi grinned and thumped his shoulder with her fist. “Sure, Nick-O. I never meant to damage your gear. You can infralink your node through my console. C’mon. See what Dada has to say.”
She opened his case and spoke a command for infrared linkage, and his Net node came alive.
“Son! Answer me! Are you awright?”
The NP’s talking head bulged out from the screen in holographic 3-D, and its eyes roved around, recording every detail of the
Devi’s
cockpit. The head looked exactly like Richter. Dominic was repulsed.
“Where are you, son? Our scans lost you in the ocean. That craft is plain invisible.” The Richteresque eyes reeled around to peer at him. “They blindsided me, boy. The deal was, you and I would stay in contact. Now I don’t even know where you are. If things weren’t so sensitive, I’d sue the buggers. You hear me, Gig? Lurking bastard, say something.”
Qi laid her hand on the briefcase and slowly pushed it closed. “So, Nick. Excuse me. Dominic. Do you really want to stay in touch with this bit-brain?”
Dominic massaged a knot in his neck. He wanted to answer No. He despised the NP. He half despised his father for creating it. Most of all, he was angry with his father for dying. He missed the old man more than he could say.
At last, he forced himself to smile. “Two bit-brains are better than one. You have your Gig, so let me have my NP.”
She gazed at him for a long thoughtful moment, but Dominic didn’t flinch. He knew how to hold his sea-colored eyes as steady as those of a painted porcelain doll. Qi turned back to her controls without comment. Reluctantly, Dominic reopened the briefcase. He was about to speak to the NP again when Qi grabbed his arm.
“Look! Something in the water,” she said.
Dominic covered his right eye and concentrated on the 360-degree image beaming through his eyepiece. He still had trouble focusing on the panoramic view. As he squinted and strained, gradually a mound of rubbish emerged among the dingy waves. Barrels. In the distance, it looked like a jumble of rusting barrels lashed together with cord. Some barrels had come loose and were floating free. Billowing sheets of white plastic trailed in the water, and all manner of debris had collected around them. Dominic blinked and looked closer. For a moment, he thought he saw an old woman lift her hand and point.
THE
Devi
circled the wreck. In the choppy waters below, Dominic saw that the barrel raft had been warped by some rogue storm into a twisted mountain of junk. Buckets and plastic bags were tied everywhere, small ones, large ones, all hanging in shreds that rose and fell with the waves. Qi maneuvered closer and adjusted their headband visors for true color, transmuting the false golds and lavenders of metavision into the dull, grimy grays of reality. The tepid ocean swelled and sluiced through the barrels, churning up geysers.
Sure enough, there were human bodies wedged among the debris. He counted six, wrapped like mummies in clear plastic sheeting, bobbing with each motion of the waves. Through his headband, they looked small and shrunken, curled up in tight, shriveled knots, and though it might have been a trick of the wind, one of them resembled an old woman lifting her hand to the sky.
“Are they dead?” Dominic asked.
“Maybe not.” Qi maneuvered the
Devi
into a hover just above the wreck. “I’m gonna open the hatch.”
“Wait, I’m not sealed!” Dominic fumbled for his helmet.
Qi hummed a snatch of melody. “You’re getting all tangled up, Nick. Take off your headband first. It won’t fit inside your helmet. Here, I’ll activate a flat display so you can still see.”
She tapped a key, and a console screen winked on, showing a two-dimensional view of the raft below. While she plucked off her cybernails and snugged her helmet into place, Dominic struggled to get his neckband seated. He’d only just sealed the gasket when she retracted the
Devi’s
cockpit cover with a loud thump. Now the cockpit lay exposed to the atmosphere, and in seconds, a lethal oily dew covered every surface. Frantically, he tugged on his gloves, wondering how she would clean the cockpit later. She probably had an air exchanger to blow out poisonous gases, but how would she get rid of this noxious residue? This stop was turning into a real annoyance. They might have to keep their helmets and gloves sealed for the rest of the journey.
“I’m picking up heartbeats, Nick. They’re alive.” Qi climbed out of her seat, which caused the whole craft to list to one side. Dominic tightened his seat belt.
“Should we call for a med crew?” he asked.
“Nick, we’re undercover. No one’s supposed to know we’re here. Get it?” Qi threw her legs over the side and dropped out of sight.
Dominic tilted his notebook so the NP could have a view of the flat-screen. “See the raft?” he whispered.
“Don’t worry, boy. I see your location now.” The NP’s holographic head bulged out of the notebook and smacked its lips. “You lit up my scans the second Major Qi opened that cockpit. Pretty sweet stealth cladding. Get me a sample if you can. And why don’t you plant your wrist node on the outside hull so I can track you when she closes that hatch.”
Dominic chewed his lip. “No wrist node. She fried it.”
“Huh? You let her do that? Don’t think I’m criticizing, but that wasn’t smart.”
Dominic watched the flat-screen view of the raft. Major Qi seemed to be taking a lot of chances, leaping around on those loose barrels. When she disappeared behind the central mound of junk, it occurred to Dominic that he had no idea how to fly this high-tech little craft.
He said, “Major, are you all right?”
Her voice crackled in his helmet radio. “Get down here, Nick. I need you.”
“Don’t leave your seat,” the NP warned. “Tell her she’s wasting time. You have a critical objective. You should be on your way.”
Dominic didn’t relish the idea of boarding a wreck in the middle of the ocean, but the major said she heard heartbeats. He swelled his cheeks and blew out a sigh. Then he unbuckled his seat belt.
“Don’t budge from that seat, boy! Remember why you’re there!”
Dominic chinned his helmet radio. “Major, do you need a first-aid kit?”
“Thanks, Nicky. I’ve got it with me. Bring a sack of water.”
“Son, you’re a fool to waste time with this. What’s the point?” the NP said.
“These people need a little help. It won’t take long.” Dominic found the water sack in a bin under the console. When he stood up, the craft tilted like a small boat, and he clutched the steering yoke to keep his balance.
“Hurry, Nick,” Qi’s voice buzzed over the radio.
Dominic searched for a good place to stow his briefcase, and the NP seemed to guess his intention. “Son, don’t shut me off. Take the case with you. I’m the only one you can trust.”
Dominic ground his molars and felt his jaw muscle quiver. “You’re watching me on satellite scan. Surely I can survive a few minutes without your advice.”
When he shut the notebook and snapped the briefcase closed, the sudden quiet felt like bliss. He leaned over the
Devi’s
flank to see what Qi was doing, and this caused the craft to tip so steeply, it nearly dumped him out. His breath rasped inside his helmet and fogged his faceplate. The helmet narrowed his view like a set of blinders. With great care, he threw his long legs over and slid down onto the barrel raft, which bobbed heavily under his weight.
“Toss me the water sack.” Qi was propping the old woman in her arms.
Dominic glimpsed thin gray hair and mottled skin under the shroud of clear plastic. A cheap, disposable mask covered the old woman’s nose and mouth, the kind factory workers used when they handled hazardous waste. Dominic couldn’t believe that was her only defense against the atmosphere. Her lungs must be riddled with toxins.
He passed Qi the water sack, then boosted the coolant inside his suit, hoping to stop his perspiration. The storm had wadded the raft like a used handkerchief. He could barely see over the mound of scrap in the center. When a wave pitched the whole thing to and fro, he fell between two barrels and sputtered for help.
In a frenzy, he seized a lashing cord and pulled himself up. Qi paid him no attention. She was feeding the old woman a pill. He started to protest, but then he saw the others. They were not lifeless bodies. They were children. He saw their streaked brown limbs swaddled in plastic. Above their breathing masks, their wide black eyes stared at him in terror.
An aircar droned overhead, and the children ducked into hiding.
“Freaker!” Qi hissed over the radio. “Your dear old Da sent his guards!”
Dominic’s breath echoed like surf inside his helmet, and he had to lean way back to peer at the sky. But there was nothing to see, only cloud cover.
Qi said, “Your bit-brain spotted us when I opened the cockpit. Freak, he’s planning to arrest these people. We’re undercover. Can’t he grasp the concept?”
The major had to be getting updates from her Org boss, Dominic decided. She was probably wearing an earplug. He started to ask a question, but then he heard a thunderous splash and swung around on his knees. The
Devi
had disappeared. The ocean surface boiled gray-white where the craft had gone under.
“Wha—” He opened his mouth and stared at the roiling foam, then at Qi’s dark faceplate. She was talking with the old woman. Behind her, the horizon tilted crazily, and the waves looked gargantuan. Dominic had never been at sea in a craft so small. As the immense undulating plane of ocean swelled around him, the small barge rocked wildly, and he gripped the cord to keep from tumbling.
The pitching motion was making him nauseous, so he drew a slow, deliberate breath through his nose to calm down. With an eye on the horizon, he ignored the spinning in his ears and spoke with more composure than he felt. “Major, Where’s the
Devi
?”
“I had to sink her,” Qi answered.
“Sink?” Another set of waves tossed the barge, and Dominic focused all his will on not throwing up.
“Hey, I couldn’t risk your NP blowing our cover. And by the way, that transponder in your butt? I zapped it, too. Remember when we were turning those cartwheels? Just a small sting. Don’t be mad.”
Dominic recalled the pain in his hip. He tried to concentrate on that pain. Anything to take his mind off the unremitting motion. “You said bank guards are coming to rescue us?”
“Relax. Gig called them off. He’s masking our position with a sonic noise field.”
Dominic gripped the lashing cord with both hands as a fresh set of waves sent the barge tilting and creaking like a circus ride. How the hell was he going to get back home?
“This is a stroke of luck,” Qi went on. “With this raft and these children, we’ll definitely look like runaway workers. It’s the perfect cover. Let’s take off these surfsuits, Nick.”
Qi removed her helmet and threw it in the ocean. It sank out of sight. Dominic stared at her naked face, appalled. She’d exposed herself to the atmosphere! With a shrug, she shook her hair free, flashed a smile and yanked off her gloves. When she unbuckled her gear belt and threw that in the water, Dominic leaned forward and stared at the spot where it sank.
“Strip, Nicky. The miners’ll never believe we’re runaways if we show up wearing this technoid stuff.”
He said, “You’re breathing poison.”
Qi laughed aloud. She stood up and tugged her suit gasket open to her crotch. Underneath the suit, she wore a gray prote uniform. It was stained and threadbare, and the sleeves and pant legs had been cut off unevenly. Dominic gaped at her dark bare arms and legs, which soon glistened with noxious dew. He sank back on his knees, horror-struck. Major Qi had sentenced herself to die.
“Do I have to come over there and undress you, Nicky?” Her voice sounded muffled and distant now that she no longer spoke by radio. With a smirk, she jammed her hands against her narrow hips. “What did you expect, a picnic? Don’t be so squeamish. You have to pretend you’re a worker, and this is where it starts.”
“Major, this is not rational.” Dominic tried to sound calm. “You want me to negotiate. Why can’t I simply introduce myself? I’m Dominic Jedes from ZahlenBank. I’ve come to talk. Simple. Reasonable. Why wouldn’t that work?”
“Why? Hoo. Maybe because half a minute after you mention your name, they’ll remember you set them adrift without life support.” Wind blew hair across Qi’s face, and she pulled it back with her ringers. “The miners’ll probably beat you senseless, Nick. That’s the only hitch I can think of. So quit stalling. Off with your duds.”
Dominic clung to the lashing. “It’s suicide.”
She laughed again and tossed her head. “You’ve got executive blood flowing in your veins. Designer additives, right? You can’t get cancer. Now c’mon. Peel.”
Dominic had always thought of himself as a bold man. He liked taking risks. But this he couldn’t do. Nature kills. The lesson had been drummed into his brain since nursery school. A single whiff of atmosphere, a single drop of rain, a single grain of dust from the natural world carried enough pollution to eat away his flesh. Like every exec, he took his antibody injections once a month—conjugated monoclonals, transgenic chimeras, the whole cocktail. But that didn’t guarantee protection from the deadly great outdoors. Everyone knew the prime rule of safety: Never leave a sealed environment. Never. He sat rigid, gazing at Qi’s dark dew-covered arms.
“Such a baby.” She tugged a flexible mask out of her pocket and placed it over her nose and mouth. Its white cone accentuated her Asian eyes and made her look vaguely extraterrestrial. With an athlete’s grace, she danced across the barrels and knelt beside him. “I’ve got antiviral tabs. You’ll be fine. Hey, workers do this all the time. You’ve gotta start thinking like a worker.”