Living in Syn (21 page)

They
gathered back at the cafeteria, discouraged.

Susan
said, "I feel like an archaeologist here, exploring this perfectly
preserved structure that hasn't seen life for hundreds of years."

Carson
nodded.  "But one thing we know is real, is the metal they produce.  Two
different companies compete for the business of hauling the metals back to
Earth.  All their records show this settlement produces way over their
quota."

Mission
sighed.  "You know Carson?  You look like you could use a drink.  How
about we walk Susan and Montag back to their rooms and I'll buy you one?"

Susan
said, "Mission, you are as subtle as electroshock."

"Hey! 
This isn't personal, but these settlement bars can get pretty rough.  If they see
you, they’ll think you’re a new pleasure model, they’ll take you and then throw
some change on the floor."

"Well,
since you put it that way, I guess I'm going to my room."

Montag
said, "Mr. Mission, I could ..."

"Sorry
Montag, but I don't think you're ready either.  Don't worry, this place will
probably be a bust, just like everything else."

When
Mission and Pierce opened the door to the bar, the room blasted them with
sound.  The music consisted of a pulsing bass line synchronized with the
percussion backbeat.  One of those newly manufactured sounds cut above the
rhythmic shock waves.  Mission saw an interview where the programmer described
it as the sound made when amputating a women's leg with a circular saw without
anesthesia.  Funny.  That's how Mission described it too.  The difference being
that Mission considered that a negative while the programmer saw it as a good
thing.

Perhaps
ten customers occupied the bar which could hold 200.  A syn pleasure model sat
on a small table as the two men rubbed parts of her anatomy.  A few more
customers were scattered about and there was ... Denman.

Carson
saw him too and said, "Perfect, just perfect."

Mission
shook his head and then shouted in Pierce's ear, "Let's talk to him.  We
couldn't learn less than we have so far."

Carson
shrugged his shoulders and they moved over to Denman's table.  Mission pulled a
chair over and straddled it backwards.  The pleasure model Denman talked to
turned to greet what she saw as potential customers.

Mission
shook his head, put up his hands and said, "No, don't even bother.  Why
don't you take a fifteen minute break and then you two can bargain some
more?"

She
smiled and said, "Okay.  But I could give you a special rate for the three
of you."

"Lady,
after you do Denman here, you couldn't
pay me
to touch you."

She
moved off toward the recesses and Denman said, "You invite yourselves over
and insult me before you even speak to me?"

Mission
said, "Yeah, well I didn't see any use in waiting.  Spoken to Atwood
lately?"

Denman
sweated profusely.  It seemed he always did.  He mopped his forehead with a
handkerchief.

"No,
and no schedule yet for the mining inspection."

Mission
smiled.  "You know, we went sightseeing and came across the refinery bay
and it appeared to be password locked.  I mean you'd think it would be open. 
It's just a big empty room most of the time.  Isn't it?"

"Just
sightseeing huh?  Like I'm only researching pricing strategies for
hookers."

He
stared at Pierce and Mission for quite a while.  "You know, I got some
suspicions, but I don't have the full story on what your little party is
looking for.  If you're here to squeeze me, or Pioneer, you'd better go back
home."

Mission
said, "No Dick.  The only reason I care about you is because I don't know
why you’re here."

"Maybe
... maybe.  But that's okay.  I mean I don't trust you, you don't trust me, and
Atwood don't trust neither of us, and I bet neither of us trusts Atwood." 
He stirred his drink with his finger and then downed it.

Then he
smiled that drooling smile and said, "But that ain't no reason for us to
stay out of the sandbox.  It just means we're all gonna play real careful.  And
I think I trust you guys a little bit more than Atwood when it comes to seeing
that refinery."

Carson
said, "But you ..."

Denman
held up his hand.  "I know, I know, I know what you're thinking.  But I
have my reasons.  If they don't want me to see it, then I really want to get a
peek.  Eh?  But if they are actively trying to keep me out, then I'm scared to
go in.  See?  So if I go with four other people, things are different.  You can
kill one guy and throw him out the airlock.  Environment failed in his room, he
had a heart attack going from zero to one atmosphere, all kinds of stuff.  But
it gets a lot harder to explain five deaths.  Okay?  And even if they tried,
old Mission here is just dying to pop somebody with that Glock.  And I know
that if he's packing, then a soldier boy like you is too."

He
winked at Carson.  "So I’d feel safer going in there with you.  And me.  I
can open that door for us.  No trouble."

Mission
and Carson stared at him.  Denman rolled his eyes and said, "You guys
trying to bluff me?  You got shit, and we all know it.  This is the best offer
you've had since you got here.  So ... 7:00 tomorrow night?  I'll meet you at
the cafeteria."

He
smiled that disgusting smile again and said, "Now get the hell out of
here.  I'm trying to get laid without taking a second mortgage." 

He
cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled,  "Hey sugar britches!  Talk to
me."

Once
they were outside, Carson shook his head and said, "I don't like it.  I
don't believe anything about that sleaze."

"Yeah,
but he's right, it is the best offer we've had.  Let's put it to the group
tomorrow morning."

Carson
nodded and they headed toward their respective rooms.  Mission knocked on
Susan's door and she answered it smiling.  She wore a robe and Mission's
imagination romped gleefully through the possibilities of what lay underneath.

She
said, "Mr. Mission, please come in."

"Why
thank you, Dr. St. Jean."

"I
take it you consider your trip to the bar a failure since you appear to be
undamaged."

Mission
sat down on the bed and started removing his weapons.  "I think you are
smearing my reputation with these inferences.  You of all people should know
that I recover 80% of my targets without a struggle."

Susan
frowned.  "So, you're inferring that you only acquired this preoccupation
with suicide since you became serious about me?"

Mission
grinned.  "No, I think it's you that are drawn to men you perceive as
masochistic."

She
showed him a new look by thrusting out her lower lip in a pout.  Mission
instantly decided he liked it.  In fact, he liked anything that drew attention
to her mouth.  In a southern accent she said, "So you do think I'm a
terrible person, don't you?  Miss?"  She laughed and he pulled her close.

"I
think I want this assignment finished so I can focus on my personal life."

She
looked up at him and said, "I do too."

"You
know what I want to do when we get back to Earth?"

He
whispered in her ear and she laughed and then flashed her mischievous smile.

"Well,
you know, the place is deserted.  And I have a beach towel we could hang across
the shower for privacy ... "

Mission
was impressed.  "Lead on madam.  I am yours to command."

"Well,
that's an interesting notion in itself."

Later,
they sat on the bed together.  Susan watched a news feed from Earth to keep up
with current events.  Mission refused to watch news and instead thought about
Denman's offer.  He kept working further and further down through the
possibilities.  Finally, he realized that Susan was talking to him.

"Huh? 
Oh nothing really.  Just wondering about Denman's offer, if we should go
along."

"Do
you really think you can trust him?"

"No,
but his point is well taken that there are benefits for both sides in going
together.  It's not even such a terrible scenario if he is setting us up.  It
would clarify a lot of issues instantly.  And I tend to think that the only
scenarios that hurt us will result in similar damage to the Dick.  Believe me,
either Carson or I will stay within arm's reach of him at all times.  And I
don't think Denman's going to risk his life."

Susan
frowned.  "This still sounds dangerous to me."

"It
is.  There are hundreds of unknowns.  For instance, it appears that he and
Atwood are adversaries.  But if Atwood approached him with a better situation,
he'd sell us faster than light travels."

"Well
then, why do you want to do this?"

"Because
we're in the same boat.  If Atwood approached us with a deal that got us what
we want in exchange for setting up the Dick, we'd probably do it.  I think that
Atwood has to play this hand without alliances, and the Dick and our group can
play together this once."

Susan
looked worried.  "What if, what if, what if ... ?"

"I
don't think Denman is setting us up.  But you hope for the best and prepare for
the worst.  I don't care how it looks tomorrow, I'm taking every weapon I can
carry."

There was
no way Carson could sleep yet. As he walked rapidly through the halls, he
realized he was headed toward another hour long session running the mountain
ranges. If nothing else, he was going to be in kick-ass shape by the time they
got back to Earth. He glanced at the cafeteria as he passed it and saw…a very familiar
profile. He smiled at himself. When you want something badly, you begin to see
it everywhere. From behind, with her hair up in a bun, that woman looked
like….Vivienne!

Smiling
broadly, he approached her table. “You never told me you were headed to Triton.”

She
returned the smile, perhaps slyly. “You never asked. I’m finishing up my
rotation here soon.”

He sat
down next to her and leaned over until their foreheads touched. “I missed you.”

A
half-hour later, they were sitting on her bed, with Carson behind her and
looking over her shoulder. Vivienne was thumbing through an oversized book of
art reproductions. She was pointing out the Rembrandts.

Carson’s
face was very close to her hair. It smelled faintly of strawberries. As he
moved closer to her neck, he also detected a hint of perfume. He closed his
eyes. He didn’t know enough to recognize the fragrance, but he knew that he
liked it.

He
kissed her neck. She closed her eyes and felt a slight tremble. My God!

He found
her mouth, and then slowly her tongue. He held her by her shoulders, and then
moved his hands up to her face. So beautiful.

He
pulled at her coverall, and in the semi-darkness, he saw her nipples, very
pointed. Carson kissed her throat, and then ran a string of soft kisses down
onto her breasts. He was very aware that Vivienne’s breathing was very shallow,
almost as if a deep breath would break the spell. He ran his tongue over her
nipples, and then took them into his mouth. Almost inaudibly, she moaned. She
felt his bare chest, pressing down against her.

Vivienne
woke from a light sleep and felt Carson next to her. He pushed his body closer
and she smiled. “Again?” she asked.

Carson
whispered in her ear, “Again. And then…again.”

She moaned
in pleasure as he took her by her shoulders.

The group
sat around the cafeteria table looking grim.  Or at least, Mission and Carson
did.  Susan looked frightened and Montag showed his usual serious involvement
with safety concerns.  It is only fair to clarify Susan's attitude, because she
was not frightened for herself.  She was frightened for Carson and particularly
for Mission.  Here sat two presumably sane men, agreeing to take tremendous
risks, because it was the best opportunity to date.

Mission
said, "Look, Atwood is playing this perfectly.  He’s a very intelligent
man.  He's pulled everyone back into their rooms and he'll keep them there
until we leave.  We'll have our suspicions, but not the first piece of
substantive proof.  Now it's our turn.  Atwood is smart, but we only need to
out think his dumbest employee.   We have to do some more aggressive poking and
prodding.  And someone will panic and play into our hands."

Susan
said, "That's your plan?  Stir up some dust and see who coughs?  Using
your logic, you and Carson could just march into the cafeteria here and blow
away the fruit cocktail and hope somebody panics!"

Carson
shook his head.  "No Susan.  This is a calculated risk.  But we aren't
engaging in conduct clearly out of bounds like shooting up the cafeteria. 
Which is not a bad idea.  Denman invited us to see the refinery.  He's a
Pioneer employee.  We are completely innocent.  And if they’re hiding something
from us in there, we have a strong possibility of a reaction that gives us
something to work with."

Mission
nodded.  "Listen to him Susan.  He's a trained tactician, and I'm no
stranger to the subject.  So you just hold up in your room and we will
..."

Susan's
eyes grew wide.  "You have lost your mind if you think I'm going to sit on
my bed and watch the news while you three re-enact
High Noon
.  I'm not
about to ... "

Mission's
voice rose.  "You've just spent the last ten minutes arguing about how
dangerous this is.  Why would we take you?"

Susan
smiled and said, "If I were setting you up, I'd send a team after you
fighters
and a smaller group to grab me.  Didn't you just make the point that a team is
only as strong as its weakest link?  If they have me, for all practical
purposes, they have the team."

Mission
boiled.  Finally he erupted with, "I hate arguing with women!  One minute they
say it's too dangerous for the trained fighters, then the next they flip flop
and explain how it's the safest place they can be.  And don't see any
inconsistency throughout the entire dialogue!"

Mission
pointed at Susan and said, "Carson, why don't you tell me what Susan
decides about our excursion, once she's finished thinking this through?"

Carson
nodded his head sympathetically but said, "She does have a point,
Mission.  Susan alone in her room is a significant vulnerability."

Mission
said, "Fine.  Then Montag should stay behind with her.  Then we're
covered."

Carson
shook his head.  "No.  I'm not blaming this on you because we all agreed,
but Montag is no match for the aggressive models with the combat
programming."

Mission
was ready for an embolism.  What in the hell had he been thinking when he told
them not to program Montag?  He's a machine and Susan is a human being.  What
did he say? 
I don't want to win at any cost
.  That was so easy for him
to say when it seemed he was only risking his life.  Now the turmoil controlled
him.  Now he couldn't make a simple tactical decision.

He
trembled with the anger building up inside.  He stood up and slung his lunch
tray across the room like a Frisbee.  In the mostly empty room, the tray
shattered against the wall and the sounds of the crash and then its echoes
bombarded the room.  The minimal activity in the cafeteria stopped.  Mission
still trembled.  Ordinarily, he would interpret this as an indication that he
needed to destroy even more.

He
settled for leaning down on the table and hissing, "Weapons check in my
room at 6:45.  I suppose anyone there is going with us."

He
turned and kicked his chair into the next table, knocking it over.  There.  He
felt a little better.  He quick marched out of the dining room and headed for
the exercise unit.

A little
before six, Mission knocked on Susan's door. She opened it and said,
"Hello little boy.  You're welcome to come in, but I don't have anything
for you to break."

Mission
walked in and sat on the bed without comment.  Susan sat down next to him and
he looked at her with deep concern.  Finally Susan broke the silence. 
"Okay, tell me.  It's obvious you've been brooding."

"I
... I can't accept the risk of you getting hurt."

"It's
not your risk to accept or reject.  And I'm not crazy about the idea, but the
only way you can feel good with this logic is having me locked in a glass
bubble.  No good."

Mission
looked at her and said, "Okay.  You're a grown woman and you made good
decisions long before I came around.  I just have to adjust my thinking so that
I don't drive us both crazy."

Susan
shook her head.  "No.  You still don't get it.  You talk about us being a
couple and then you turn around and talk about you solving your problem in a
vacuum.  Did you ever think that perhaps I should be involved?"

She grew
angrier and then stood up and put her hands on her hips.  "Actually, I
think you're being pretty damned selfish.  Have you ever considered that maybe
I have to adjust my thinking?  That it might bother me that you risk your life
every day?  That's one of the reasons I'm going on this safari.  I'll be damned
if I'm going to sit at home wondering if you are lying dead under the foot of
some killer machine."

Now the
anger boiled inside her.  "I am
not
the silently suffering little woman
and I never will be!"

Her eyes
literally danced with fire.  Mission found it arousing.  He also recognized
that Susan was not in the same frame of mind.

"Okay,
I can't argue with any of that.  I guess we’re both going tonight and we’ll both
worry about the other.  You know, an objective observer might tell us that life
and death struggles are not the optimum backdrop for building a
relationship."

Then he
looked at her for a moment and added, "But I wouldn't change anything. 
Would you?"

She
shook her head.  "No ... except that I would have put a lot more Jello on
your tray before you threw it."

Mission
pulled her close and said, "I've got a good feeling about tonight.  I
think you and I should find a way to properly celebrate when we get back."

Susan
said, "Double solitaire?"

Mission
grinned as he walked out.  "See you at 6:45."

Susan
said, "Aren't you going to eat?"

"Hope
for best case, prepare for the worst.  I never eat before a fight."

The door
closed and Susan's smile disappeared.  She had a bad feeling about tonight and
she worried that she and Mission had just spent their last private moments
together.