Progeny (The Progenitor Trilogy, Book Three) (34 page)

              ‘He’s right,’ said Anna.  ‘Hauling regular crap and passengers from system to system sure gets dull, and it doesn’t pay as well either.  I said to him “enough of this shit Cal, what are we, a fucking taxi?”  So yeah, we need to make a few contacts out here.’

              The Hyrdian looked at them both through narrowed eyes.

              ‘You called him “Cal”.  His license says his name is Vasili.’

              Cal shot Anna a nervous look.  Inwardly, she cursed herself for such a stupid mistake.  She had just blurted his name out.  So much for playing secret agents.

              The Hyrdian tapped the license cards against the console it still held.  ‘But... what the fuck do I care?’ it said eventually and shrugged.  ‘Half the people who come through here have faked identities.  But I know your faces.  Whatever you are called, whilst you are here you are Captains Conrad and de Silva.   No funny business aboard the station.  No guns.  You cause trouble, we take your ship.  You kill anyone, we put you out the nearest airlock.  It’s a long drop to the clouds below I think you’ll find.’

              ‘I was going to ask about my ship.  How safe is it here?’ said Isaacs.

              ‘It’s safe,’ said the Hyrdian.  ‘It’s our insurance against any bad behaviour, after all.’

              The interior of Gagat’s Colony was a dimly lit warren, currently in the middle of its artificially induced night.  The spires that extended both upwards and downwards from the disc continued within it, dividing the interior up into something resembling city blocks, except that their varying sizes and shapes rendered the internal layout of the streets between them somewhat chaotic.  Bright, holographic signs winked in the darkness from the countless of bars, cafes, clubs, casinos, strip joints and brothels whilst beings from half a dozen races at least wandered the dimly lit streets that thumped to the muffled beats of music from a multitude of cultures.  Isaacs and Anna risked a glance or two at a few of the colony’s inhabitants as they passed and were met with hard stares from equally hard looking people.  Gagat’s Colony might be a place to do certain kinds of business, but it was also a place where you kept your business to yourself.

              ‘So, what now?’ said Anna.  ‘We just hang around this shithole until our guy or gal shows up?’

              ‘Apparently,’ said Cal.  ‘Still, we can always while away the time taking in the many cultural delights of this outpost of civilisation.’

              ‘Such as?’ scoffed Anna.

              ‘Well, there’s a holo on the wall behind you advertising a stage show featuring a young lady of prodigious talent and athletic prowess.’

              Anna looked over her shoulder at the lurid holo depicting a nearly naked woman in various poses and laughed throatily.

              ‘I don’t think so, dear,’ she said smoothly and smiled. ‘Let’s find somewhere to stay, shall we?’

              After consulting the station’s network and tramping down a dozen identical looking, dingily lit streets, they eventually found a small hotel near the centre of the Colony and far enough away from the constant noise emanating from the local nightlife.  A bored looking Vreeth, floating behind the reception desk like a tethered airship, handed them their room key with one lazy tentacle then went back to watching what appeared to be Hyrdian pornography on the small screen behind the front desk.

              They rode the creaking lift up four floors, where it deposited them into a corridor lit by weak biolumen globes and with signs pinned to the walls in several languages both human and alien.  Evidently this floor contained accommodation only suited to humanoids.  They found their allotted room and entered it, and found it to be just as dingy looking as the corridor outside and furnished in the most basic fashion, but it was clean and contained a terminal linked to the station’s network and entertainment channels.

              Anna sat heavily on the bed’s depressingly thin mattress and frowned as she felt the jarring impact.

              ‘So, we wait?’ she said

              ‘Yep.’

              ‘A pity we couldn’t have waited on the ship.  Even the deck is more comfortable than this bed,’ she replied, patting the mattress for emphasis.

              ‘Our instructions were to find accommodation on the station on the grounds that the docking bays are more likely to be watched,’ said Isaacs.

              ‘And how will this person find us?’

              ‘Who knows?’ Isaacs shrugged.  ‘I guess they’ve been told how to find us.’

‘So what now, do you want to hang around this lovely establishment?’

‘Not really, no.  Firstly I want to find something to eat and secondly I could do with a drink.’

‘Sounds like a plan.  Let me consult this thing,’ said Anna and wandered over to the room’s terminal.

‘Okay.  Let me just take a shower before we head out,’ said Isaacs and started to pull off his clothes.

‘You are adventurous’ said Anna, concentrating on the glowing screen before her.

‘What do you mean?’ Isaacs replied, looking up from the task of removing his boots.

‘Have you seen the bathroom?’

Later, the two of them found themselves sitting on a low wall that bounded a rather pathetic looking park just down the street from a row of food stalls.  Isaacs munched reflectively on the kebab-like creation that he had purchased as he regarded the park’s stunted, sad looking vegetation that wilted visibly in the sickly light from biolumen poles and tried not to think too hard about the origins of the heavily spiced meat he was consuming.  He had to admit, it did taste pretty good, although the proprietor of the stall – an overweight Hyrdian – had been unable or unwilling to tell him what it actually consisted of, only that it was ‘very good, very nice for humans’.  Isaacs didn’t suppose that there were many cows, pigs, sheep or chickens in this part of space.

Within the park, a number of intoxicated figures from several species could be seen staggering down the paths between the half dead alien vegetation, on their way between bars or simply heading home at the end of another booze sodden or chemically enhanced evening. One, a Vreeth, seemed to be floating upside down as it made strange piping noises which Isaacs took to be its drunken singing.  Sitting here he could still feel the Colony shudder and flex as the hurricane winds of Irkut battered it incessantly.

Anna looked up from her own meal, which she had been regarding suspiciously for some moments.

‘So, you want to head on over to those bars we found on the station guide?  The ones that I found that didn’t look too dodgy. The ones
without
the pictures of naked girls outside?’

‘Yeah.  Aside from the fact that I could use a drink, it would do us good to get a feel for this place, blend in, try and find out where the other human traders hang out.  We
are
supposed to be posing as freelance traders looking for a little business on the shady side of things.  We should start acting like it.’

‘You have a point.  Can you at least stay reasonably sober this time?  This habitat is the sort of place where I’d imagine it pays to have your wits about you.’

‘True, but if we start drinking orange juice, the other pilots are liable to have us thrown out into the street on general principles.’

‘I’ll be watching your back Cal, but I’d appreciate it if you were also watching mine, so stay sharp.  Come on, let’s go.’

Following the directions that they had obtained from the station’s network, they headed back towards the edge of the disc shaped colony, back towards the section given over to the docks.  Here, the streets began to get busier again, the wandering figures of revellers interspersed with those of touts, pimps, drug dealers and other hustlers.  Both Isaacs and Anna were approached as they attempted to negotiate the throng.  They were offered everything from cheap drinks, to exotic hallucinogens, to sex with sentient and non-sentient creatures from across much of known space.  Cheaply printed flyers and business cards were pressed into their palms, only to be dropped amidst the other detritus that fouled the street, whilst muttered offers and gestures promised more illegal pleasures.

Both Isaacs and Anna were becoming irritated, and ever more paranoid at the possibility of being pick-pocketed by one the characters now trying to invade their personal space.  Anna had just sworn loudly at a Vreeth that had bumped her with its foremost armour plates and had then tried to placate her with an offer of a cheap two for one drinks offer, making the mistake of then trying to slide one of its longer tentacles around her waist.  Isaacs listened to her stream of creative abuse toward the creature as they strode hurriedly away and completely failed to see the tall dark figure with wild hair and beard, eyes hidden behind wrap around shades, before the man accosted him.

‘Hey man, hey.  Walk with me a while,’ said the figure in a slurring voice and took a deep drag on some sort of cigarette as he fell into step with him.

‘Fuck off, okay?  I’m not interested,’ said Isaacs and tried to blank him.

‘I think you are, actually.  Is there somewhere we can talk?’ the man replied, keeping his voice low.

Isaacs rounded on the man, and saw his own sneering face reflected back at him in the man’s visor-like glasses. The man stank of booze and whatever it was he had been smoking.

‘Look, what part of “fuck off” do I have to translate for you?  Are you deaf?  I already told you, whatever it is you’re pushing, I don’t want any.  So go and stick it up your arse.’

The man grabbed his jacket sleeve and pulled off his glasses, revealing a pair of intelligent, green eyes.  As he spoke again, the man’s voice changed, becoming more eloquent and less throaty.  The slurring had vanished entirely.  He fixed Isaacs with an intent stare.

‘Caleb Isaacs, perhaps I didn’t make myself clear.  You and I need to talk.  This is your wife, Anna, yes?’

‘Uh yeah...’ Isaacs replied, the realisation sinking in that this was most likely their contact.

‘Thought so,’ said the man, his eyes flicking to Anna who likewise had started to catch on to what was going on.  His gaze switched back to Isaacs. ‘Where were you headed?’ he asked hurriedly.

‘The big place at the end of the street, Jerry’s.’

‘Uh huh.  Okay.  Good choice, lots of people and noise around.  Okay walk with me into this alleyway, make it look like we’re making a deal.’

‘So you know our names.  Do we get to find out yours?’

‘Not yet, no.’

‘Okay...’

The man saw Isaacs’ expression and rolled his eyes.  Then he leaned in and spoke in a low voice directly into his ear.

‘Look.  You were sent here to meet me, correct?  I’m not going to fucking rob you, this isn’t some stupid con trick.  Now get in the damn alleyway, both of you!’

The alley cut between two nearby bars, was choked with rubbish and other filth and stank of urine.  Rats and other vermin scurried away into the darkness as the three humans entered, the as yet unnamed stranger leading the way.  About half way down, where the darkness was particularly intense, he called a halt and turned to face them.

‘Before we go any further, I have to be sure you are who you say you are.  I have to be sure you’re the same people that you were when you left Earth.  You catch my drift?’

‘Yeah we do,’ said Anna.  ‘You got one of those Shaper detectors?  Go ahead, scan us.’

The man reached into his long dark coat and produced a scanner similar to the ones that Isaacs had seen used by Chen’s Spec Ops people, as well as a bulky laser pistol which he held loosely in one hand as he scanned both Isaacs’ and Anna’s skulls in turn.  He looked at the results for a moment and then, satisfied with what they showed – that both individuals were free from Shaper parasites - he replaced the scanner inside his coat.

‘Sorry about that,’ said the man.  ‘And this.’  He held up the gun before returning it to its holster beneath his left armpit.  ‘I had to be sure.  Now, let’s get out of here before someone comes to see what we’re doing down here, and then let’s go get a drink, and then we can talk.  Just three traders making a deal over a drink, right?’

‘Right.  So, do we get to find out your name now?’ Isaacs asked.

‘Sure,’ said the man. ‘Agent Steven Harris, formerly CIB. Now I’m with Special Operations Command.’ He stuck out a hand

‘Uh, pleasure,’ said Isaacs and shook it firmly.

Jerry’s was one of the few human owned drinking establishments aboard Gagat’s Colony and hence it was packed with human clientele eager to mix with their own kind, although there was a smattering of other races.  Consequently, the three of them drew no attention to themselves whatsoever as they entered.  Isaacs got a round of drinks in and then, threading their way through the throng of drinking, dancing and flirting revellers, they retired to one of the booths near the back of the main bar area.  The sound of the music and hubbub of drunken conversation was enough to prevent anyone from casually listening in to their conversation.

‘So, Agent Harris, how did you find us so quickly?  We’ve only been here a couple of hours,’ said Cal and took a grateful gulp of his beer.

‘Well, I made a few friends aboard Gagat’s Colony.  Money has that effect around here.  I got talking to one of the Vreeth in traffic control, and said I was looking for somebody piloting a Stallion class ship and would he mind letting me know each time a ship of that type docked here in return for a suitable fee.  Apparently the local crime syndicates do it all the time.  By the time you guys had cleared security I was already waiting outside for you.  I tailed you for a bit to make sure you were the right people and to make sure no-one else but me was following you.’

‘And were they?’

‘Not that I could see.  That’s when I decided to make my move and approach you.’

There was a commotion from the front of the bar. A fight had broken out.  Craning their necks they could see drinkers backing away from two men brawling with one another.  One was already streaming with blood from a wound on his forehead, the remains of a shattered beer glass in the other man’s hand providing a clue as to the cause.  There were whoops and cries of encouragement as the bleeding man landed a punch on the nose of the other before two burly figures from the bar’s own security staff intervened and pulled the struggling men apart before dragging them outside.