Dreaming of Atmosphere (3 page)

I called up the cab's display in my vision and checked the ETA of our trip. I still had some time to kill, so I opened my personal messaging service. In moments, my vision was filled with a few dozen messages, the usual amount after being disconnected from a network for a few months. I scanned the subject fields for anything interesting. A newsletter for a gun enthusiasts group I subscribe to, an invitation to trial a new material from Cortez' Armoury, an email from my old PSMC doctor. Did I mention that I like guns? And armour.

Cortez' Armoury was an exceptional energy weapon and personal armour store on the Corus Cluster, one I made a point of visiting every time I was on station. I talk guns with the locals there, and every now and then, it pays off, like today. I had an invite to try out a new armour composite they just got in. They're looking for actives, slang for active operators that sometimes get into violent, messy or just dangerous encounters from time to time. Did I mention that space could be dangerous? So, they wanted people like me to try out this new material and give the store some feedback. I'd been looking for a new fibre to mix on my armoured space suit. My days of jumping out of space ships and launching myself at enemy ships were behind me (I hoped) but the M4 Marine Armoured Extravehicular Laminate Suit, or just M4 MAEL, came in handy many times. It was somewhat heavy though, when you're not weightless, which is when I tend to wear it most of the time these days. Hopefully, this new stuff was lightweight.

The cab AI dutifully informed us that we were nearing our destination. I closed up my messaging app and started up my local tactical app. I could see Maxine was getting ready too, drawing out her hold out blaster and pairing it with her Overlay Interface. I pulled out my PX-2 and activated a control on its grip. Instantly an icon appeared which I acknowledged and a small, nearly invisible marker appeared in my vision, tracking to where ever I pointed my gun. When I was happy with its calibration, I holstered my side arm and stepped out of the cab. A small box appeared in my vision, with the words 'Connecting to local surveillance. Please wait.' flashing. A couple of seconds later they vanished and I scanned the crowd nearby with my eyes. When I closed my eyes, I could see faint outlines of where people were milling about, going about their business in the sector. Occasionally a small red indicator appeared on some of the outlines, identifying weapons that were picked up by local cameras and other sensors that I was now connected to.

The tactical app I was using wasn't entirely legal. I'd picked it up during an operation I was involved with back when I was with the Star Marines. We were operating in a heavily populated area and needed to distinguish between hostiles and civilians. Our benefactor was a part time asset of the Kanto Intelligence Agency, and he helped us install the app, mask it from command and allowed us to do our jobs without endangering innocent bystanders. I didn't see the need to uninstall it once I'd mustered out. It's only useful in a friendly network system, and discretely hacks into local surveillance feeds to gather data on possible threats nearby. I'm sure it has a few other uses too, but how do you get someone to show you how to use an illegal app without admitting you have one?

I gave Max a nod and we walked to the entrance to the station sector, past the usual assortment of street vendors and commuters. We joined a queue of people waiting to pass through an airlock that led into the sector proper, and soon we were in a large compartment that must have once been a hangar bay or other large storage facility. This was a sector called Millard's Quarter, and it's what passed for the red light district of the Corus Cluster. It was early, so the usual clientele were mostly absent, just daytime traders and travellers were about. A few shady characters congregated in small groups, eyeing people who got too close, or perhaps casing them for later on. Several bars were open, but were not yet competing for the loudest din or the most colourful lights, and crowds weren’t at their shoulder-to-shoulder density.

The air in here was warm and smelly, like sweat or unwashed bodies. Not unusual in a space station with a high population density. There was also a melange of cooking smells, as the various bistros and bar grills did their thing before all people wanted was liquid nourishment. Maxine and I pushed our way through the area, soon arriving before a bar with a narrow entrance, but with a large palatial facade that could only be described as garish. True to its theme, a large sign flashed with the words 'The Crystal Lounge' overhead and we went in.

Inside was interesting, all the walls were made to resemble natural rock formations, as if we were moving into a cave system. Cleverly placed lights lit our way, making it appear dark, but without making it hard to see where we were going. A small counter was unmanned, but displayed several flyers informing us of live performances or other events taking place soon. We passed the dimly lit counter and made our way into the Lounge main bar.

The Crystal Lounge itself was a large grotto-like cavern, with a round central bar servicing a dance floor and several booths arranged in a tiered fashion surrounding the bar. All about were dozens of protruding crystal formations, as if they'd grown in the cave. The effect, and the ambiance, was almost surreal. It wasn't hard to imagine that I was actually deep inside a cavern filled with crystals. The crystals themselves caught and refracted subtle lights, and splayed them out across the visible spectrum at all angles.

The dance floor was empty, and only a few people other than the bartender were in the Lounge. Music, from last year's charts, played from hidden speakers, not too loudly, so people could still carry on a conversation.

“Show time. There's Isaac. Go grab a beer.” said Max. I complied, stepping through a writhing hologram of undulating water to get to the bar.

The bar tender eyed me off, guess he wasn't used to serving people this early. He looked even surlier once I asked for a water. Not only was I making him work, but I wasn't handing over any money to the establishment either. His maudlin mood didn't inspire me to leave a tip, my subtle way of saying go screw yourself.

I sipped my sourly served water and scanned the man that Maxine had walked up to, and then widened my search for any accomplices. I noted that the water tasted somewhat bad, and placed the tumbler on the bar counter. There! I spotted two guys near the rear secreted into a booth, both paying particular interest to my Captain and Isaac Cameron. One was definitely armed, according to my tactical app, and I could bet that his sidekick was armed as well.

Maxine was standing with her hands on her hips, in a posture that I'd come to learn meant she was dressing down someone, and I could see Isaac was trying to placate her, making feeble apologetic gestures. He indicated a booth nearby, and offered to lead Max over to it. She held up her hand and gestured for me to come over. I left my foul tasting water and joined them as they sat down in the booth.

“Isaac, this is Seth Donovan, the First Mate of the Dreaming of Atmosphere.” offered Max. I shook his offered hand and kept silent. A second later, an indicator on my display noted that there had been a deposit in my credit account.

“There. As promised. Payment in full, Captain Cooper.” said Isaac. His accent was Eridanian, his clothes were Harakiwan, and his two thugs were Argessi Argen. A cosmopolitan man. I told him as much.

“The well-travelled is the well-educated, Mr Donovan. I like to take a piece of every place I visit into my being. Men of my station require such displays of our social standing, much like the Corporate men display their own wealth in everything that they do and are.”

“Is that what you are? A Corporation man?”

“No, Mr Donovan, I am small fish compared to them, I assure you. My wealth is in my connection to the worlds that I travel, not in my credit accounts.”

“So why the hassle to pay us? We did your last job. We've done a few for you before too. What's the deal? We haven't had to jump through hoops to get paid before.”

“He's a blunt one, isn't he, Captain Cooper?” he turned to Max.

“He's also sharp, Isaac, he cut through your bullshit in 20 seconds. Why don't you answer him?” Max wasn't in the mood to dance either, it seemed.

“Ok. You got me. I wanted you here to meet someone.”

“That's it? Why not tell us over the net? Why the rigmarole?”

“Well, I wanted to motivate you to ensure you actually came. My friend does not like to be given the run around either, and when someone such as I tell him I can arrange a meeting with someone, he expects results. Here you are. I've let him know you're here and he'll be here shortly.”

“Who is it?” Max's tone said she wasn't happy being strung along like this. I couldn't blame her. Neither did I. I checked the two goons in the back. I could see their outlines clearly through the back of the booth behind Isaac. By now, my app had picked up the second thug's weapon as well, confirming my suspicion.

“He's a man of standing in these parts. A benefactor of many enterprises around the station and within the Argessi System.”

“You mean he's a crime boss?” Ok, now I know Max was pissed.

“He's a business man. Some of his business may be legally questionable, but he's a straight shooter.”

“Ok, we're done, Donny. Let’s get out of here.” We stood, so did Isaac. So did his two thugs, I could see. I put my hand on my PX-2 and looked at him deadpan.

“Tell your thugs in the back to sit back down, or I put two into your chest right now.”

He looked startled, and then his composure returned. He turned around and gestured to the two Argen and they slowly sat back down.

“Now then, “ began Isaac as he turned back to face us, “There's no need for this, Mr Jenner only wants to make you a job offer, nothing more.”

“We don't work for criminals, Cameron, you know this.” accused Max, her finger jabbing at Isaac's expensive Harakiwan suit.

“Not knowingly, right?” came a new voice from over my shoulder. Damn, he'd gotten the drop on me. Max is going to be having words about this with me I was sure. We all turned to see a shorter than average male of a species I wasn't able to identify right away. One of the many races that make up the minority in galactic society. He was one of the races that could pass for human at a glance, but subtle differences were clear if one looked for longer than a moment. A near human, society would call him. He had dark, almost black hair, sharp small eyes and a straight nose that ended at a point. His tailored suit was almost metallic; it shimmered and caught the refracted light majestically. “My name is Benedict Jenner. It's a pleasure to meet you, Maxine Cooper.”

Jenner offered his hand to the stunned Maxine; she eyed it as if it were a snake, but took it after a moment’s hesitation. She gave me a slight nod, and we sat.

“What are you talking about, Jenner?” asked Max

“I mean that several of your latest exploits are well known to me. Because you were working for me.”

Max gave Isaac a dirty look, and he shrank back into his seat taking his drink with him.

“Suppose I just take your word for that. It changes nothing. I don't do work for criminals.”

“I'm not asking you to do anything illegal. I merely want someone I can trust.”

“Sorry, that trust has to flow both ways. I'm not getting my crew mixed up in your schemes, or anyone else who doesn't pass my ass-hole detector.”

His courteous, refined veneer cracked slightly and the corner of his smile dipped by a fraction. Max might not have noticed it, as she was in the middle of a tirade, but I definitely did. I also noticed a few more 'patrons' had entered the bar, placing themselves at covering angles. They didn't even order drinks first. Maybe they already knew how the water tasted.

“Ms Cooper...”

“Captain Cooper.” interrupted Max.

“Captain Cooper, all I ask is that you hear me out. I have a very generous offer, for a task that is well within your capabilities, and within the law I assure you.”

“Let me guess, it's an offer I can't refuse?”

“You'd be passing on a once in a lifetime opportunity. How many Captains can say they paid off their starship within their command?” Now he had Max's attention.

Star ships, I should point out at this point, are expensive. Ridiculously expensive. First owner Captains who purchase a ship do so knowing they enter into multi-generational debt cycles, taking loans out from one of several galaxy-spanning mega-corporations – the world builders and terraformers who wield nearly limitless wealth and power. Passing their Captaincy on to a new Captain is not just a handing over of the codes and the stateroom; it's a legally binding act that transfers all remaining debt onto the new Captain of the ship. A Captain that doesn't earn, either for their crew or for the debtors, will lose the ship. It's an act of trust and responsibility, an honour and a curse to be chosen to succeed a retiring Captain. When a ship is paid in full, the reigning Captain essentially becomes a sovereign nation unto themselves, beholden to none, indebted to none, with the whole galaxy at their fingertips to enjoy. If they chose to sell their ship shortly afterwards...well, I did mention that starships are expensive didn't I?

“I have a measure of pull with some of the Corporations that ply their trade in the Votus-Eridani Network. I can trade a few favours to have what remains of the debt on the Dreaming of Atmosphere to evaporate.”

“That's quite a feat, if you're telling me the truth.” She looked at Jenner, seeming to see him for the first time.