Wipe the intel and eliminate the target. That sounds easy. Now do that in the mazes of Itokawa, where using sensory technology raised suspicion if it was detected, where the whole point was a layer of rigorous security to catch enough of the obvious infractions of people not clever enough to play the game, so that those who played the game could operate in the low-tech or no-tech underbelly.
I gave @foxcutter my lovely gravity hammer. The Thrusters gave me back the glen11 that my merchant character, @wrench, had registered through the security checkpoints.
Our target was last spotted leaving a restaurant called Honey Peas, up in the far solar northwest corners of Itokawa, the Garden District. We asked for a map of Itokawa only to get slapped. They existed, but they were expensive and highly coveted. None of the various criminal organizations wanted it to be easy to find anything in Itokawa. In fact, it turns out that there were regular re-segmentations done, where a hallway from one of the connected units would rotate over to connect to a different one.
They tried to keep Itokawa changing as it grew, with the pivot of passages, being something regularly scheduled. Every morning you could count on something being different. The locals took pride in not getting lost, and this made it even easier to spot outsiders to prey upon.
We weren't helpless though. Certain locations had beacons so you could always know where you needed to go, even if you didn't know exactly how to get there.
We kept it formal, not wanting to attract suspicion in case our comms were detected.
"So, we walk with confidence," @foxcutter said. "As long as it looks like we know where we're going, people will think we do."
I nodded. "I think we're getting close enough." Unless our target was running, we would soon be in the search radius. "Let's get organized."
I spotted a bench over by a set of metal beds full of dirt, probably for growing potatoes or carrots, and I headed over to sit there. The thought of potatoes again made me squirm. I could see why @wrench would want to come here and deal in dirt and paper. Deals were done on paper and burned. Easier to delete than risking a digital fingerprint, and dirt was just about everywhere, coating the place. I could sell paper and collect dirt.
But I'm not @wrench. Maybe if I ever got out of the Extrovert Starmada I could run a little business here. I'd have to run some business models. It had to be viable, or they never would have given it to me as a cover story.
The hall we were in was empty. It was now early morning, 4:04 a.m. Earth Time (ET), and most of the solar system tried to stay on cycle for conducting business ... and for a bit of nostalgia no doubt.
"This is our target," I said pulling out the scrap of paper from my pocket. I unfolded it and held it out so we could both view it.
"Are we sure we want to do this?" @foxcutter asked. "I mean, if they betrayed the Thrusters then they're probably on our side."
The woman in the photo reminded me of @shadowhacker, but if you smashed her together with @auroraloon. She had dark hair arranged in braids that flowed down her back, brown eyes with bright yellow eye shadow and a streak of bright green along her eyebrows, a stark contrast to her dark amber skin. In this photo, she was wearing a bright blue leather suit. @golfswinger had written @zerogstar in the corner of the photo in red marker.
image [https://livingwriter-uploads.s3.amazonaws.com/CZnr4fPo4C-zerogstar finder.png]
"She probably is on our side," I nodded. That was only part of the problem. "I know reanimation makes it a little easier to consider killing her, but eliminate the target seems to imply that we need to wipe some memories too, and she probably has backups."
I folded the paper and tucked it away. "Let's head out. If she likes the color blue, maybe we'll spot her more easily, but obviously, she could be wearing anything."
"And kill her, destroy her memories?" @foxcutter asked again, obviously uncomfortable.
I sighed as we headed out down the dark hallways. The lights here flickered from time to time, adding to the sensation of secrecy, making it feel ominous, even if we were headed to a place called Honey Peas, known for its edamame.
"I guess that's what Vanquishers do," I said flatly, watching @foxcutter gulp and his eyes focus, his body tense noticeably as he walked. "But I'm not going to do that. I'm sure someday I'll have to do something I really don't want to do, but not today."
"Like sell off @bitchfrog," @foxcutter added.
"Exactly. I don't even want to think about that. But we'll rescue her back." I said it more for my own reassurance than @foxcutter's. "We have a plan." And oh boy, that plan better work.
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People of Itokawa are no strangers to the idea of people looking for people. Someone's always looking for someone, especially on Itokawa. This is why honor plays such an important part of society. One knows not to ask questions. You may be looking for someone to remind them to water their plants. You may be looking to make a deal. You may be looking to end a deal. It's all the same, but honor and respect are the only way to get cooperation.
As @golfswinger pointed out, @wrench was not exactly known here on Itokawa. That meant that Honey Peas was of little use to us. But the edamame was delicious! They did exactly what you would expect. The edamame came out warm, salty, and with just a dash of honey-vinegar that elevated the flavor. Do people complain that technically it's not a pea? No. How would you sing "I eat my peas with honey" if the restaurant was called Honey Edamame.
We discretely inquired about @zerogstar, but my honor being rather nonexistent, the best I got was the casual glance that the chef behind our counter of stools gave to another of the chefs, who looked out toward the doorway and to the left. It might have been an accidental reaction, but that was good enough for me.
Here in the Garden District, the grime was more organized, the hallways were just a bit brighter, but the rusty metallic walls and dust-coated glass were the same. They did, to their credit, have a number of garden beds like the one we saw earlier, narrow and taller, so you didn't have to bend down, growing a variety of leafy greens with LED sunlights and hydroponic drips. The lamps gave off a violet hue, making the Garden District probably the most beautiful in Itokawa, each hallway emanating that glow along the sides.
This was where the wealthiest in Itokawa lived as a result. We had to assume that @zerogstar knew she was being pursued, but I still hoped otherwise. If we didn't find her, we knew the Thrusters were lying in wait at the ports of exit, and quite possibly following us as well.
The Extronet had very little on @zerogstar. In a world where everything is connected, certain parties knew everything about you - like the Extrovert Starmada did about me - but in many cases, privacy being so important to people, there wasn't actually much out there for public consumption. The Personality Act of UC63 made sure of that.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
@zerogstar's origin was Lyra Apollo, and she was from a mining colony on Vesta, but in a small settlement outside of the major cities. Her origin had reportedly attended a school of dance, Float Step. When she came to Itokawa or why was unknown. None of this was particularly helpful to us.
"We should probably split up," I said to @foxcutter, as we came to another intersection. We had ventured left from Honey Peas, trying to imagine what a person would do after eating a late night / early morning snack, not spotting anything interesting, picking a few halls that seemed more obvious choices for a person not wanting to be seen.
"She's probably keeping herself busy to make a push for the exits when the morning rush hits," @foxcutter hypothesized. "She wouldn't go to places she frequents or they'd find her. But she'd probably go to places she's at least somewhat familiar with so she's not completely lost."
He had a sound logic to his thinking. "Makes sense. She is, from what we know, a local, so I expect she's pretty good at getting around. But, as you said, not her frequent spots."
"If she had to leave in a hurry," I continued, "then she might need supplies."
"That's a good idea," @foxcutter said. "So we find a store that's open, one that would have a variety of goods, but also probably not a popular shop."
I pulled up an index of locations around the Garden District. Some of the stores would be marked with beacons. "We probably want a shop that's not beaconed," I said aloud. "Let's head this way." I pointed to the right corridor. It had fewer of the garden beds, not as much as main passageway as the others. In this maze, we'd have to rely on a bit of luck and good assumptions.
We wandered for a good twenty minutes down the walkways, tunnels, and halls of the Garden District. We found a few promising stores, but none that were open that didn't have a beacon blasting their location to the world. The search radius was getting bigger the longer we took, and I knew the longer we took, the more likely it was we'd come up empty. But space is finite, and we covered a lot of ground, relying on luck and futurecasting grounded in our assumptions.
On the positive side, the more the morning progressed toward rush hour, the more we started to see people. That would likely get her moving if she had tucked herself away somewhere.
@foxcutter spotted her first, wearing black jeans and a purple flannel shirt, with a green pack slung over her shoulder. As we suspected, she was coming out of a store, and it didn't have a beacon. The place was called Earth's Appraisal, a used artifact and antique store. Where The Cosmic Gutter was a large scrap and tool shop with something for everyone, Earth's Appraisal was much smaller. It would have some useful used goods, but more select, along with some not-so-useful antiques for collectors.
Only a few others were wandering down this passage, so she spotted us quickly as well.
I didn't want her to run. I figured she would. But at this hour, she'd be easy to chase. We would just attract a lot of attention, which neither of us wanted.
I raised my hands quickly and flashed her the universal tree sign, tilting my head toward the wall along the passage just outside the store. She looked at us nervously. I thought she was going to bolt, but she hesitated and then stayed. Suddenly, she relaxed and walked toward us, feigning that she knew us.
Thank @3Beak!
I cut straight to the chase.
"The Thrusters are after you," I said, leaning against the wall. "We need to get you out of here."
She looked at us, then surveyed the passageway outside Earth's Appraisal. "Lots of people are after me. How do I know you're not one of them?"
I shrugged. "You don't."
"Walking around with a gravity hammer like that," she pointed at @foxcutter with the hammer leaning over his shoulder. "At this time of the day? You look like thugs."
She was right, but I really couldn't leave my hammer with @horsehead out of principle. I didn't want to try to explain that right now.
"I'm an undercover Vanquisher," I said, making sure to keep strong eye contact. "Investigating person trafficking. The Thrusters want you, which means I have to make sure they don't get you."
@zerostar nodded at me and pulled her braids back behind her head. She wrapped them in a band to hold them in place, studying me. I could tell she was still skeptical.
"We need to get out of sight," @zerogstar said. She grabbed my arm, turning away, and tugged me toward Earth's Appraisal. "You have to see it," she said, slightly louder so that others might hear. "They have plants I've never seen before. I don't think they grow anything edible, but they're amazing."
The inside of Earth's Appraisal was mostly empty, save a man walking through the rows of shelves, taking inventory. Some aiways like to let themselves age, feeling like it adds to their authenticity, and then reset the cycle. This man was one of them, as he had let himself age to what appeared to be about 65 years old, with white balding hair. He seemed harmless, or at least, @zerogstar paid no attention to him.
She saw me staring. "That's Ralph, the owner. He finds old Earth antiques for me sometimes."
"It's just junk," he said flatly, in a deep voice, not taking his attention away from the shelves.
@zerogstar laughed. "That's what he thinks." She walked us to a far corner away from the door, where we could survey most of the store. I could see the intrigue of this place. Aside from the dust everywhere, which would certainly have me sneezing in no time, all sorts of odds and ends lined the shelves. Some probably had a purpose, but there were items I couldn't identify, along with physical books and a few rows of plants under the same violet light as outside.
She crossed her arms at me, her fingers nervously stoking the cuff of her purple flannel. "Okay. Your move. Ralph over there might not seem like much, but he won't go down without a fight. Vanquisher? Prove it to me."
I pointed my hand at a clear space on the wall above some of the random metal artifact. A slit opened and my sensory module protruded to project images along the wall. I flashed The Pharaoh, waiting in Blue 29 at the Port of Alloy dock, my i35 ship, which should be recognizable anywhere in the solar system, a quick flash of my memories from the starlab, the zombies closing in, and the explosion of @astrowave leading a charge through to save me.
"A zombie virus is being developed," I said somberly. "I need to find it and destroy it." She wasn't expecting the zombies. I had seen the quick shift in her demeanor, a quick breath, as I showed her the images.
"Besides, I think I'm the best way out for you, and I don't think you have other options. The Thrusters were tracking you, tracking me too no doubt, and they'll have exits watched. I don't know what you have, but I suspect getting you out of here is a good thing for both of us."
@zerogstar wasn't ready to play her hand and tell me what intel she had, and I respected that. We could deal with that later. Right now, I just needed an ally so that we could both get out safely.
"The way I see it, there's only one real option," I continued, and I knew that to be mostly true. My futurecasting confirmed it. "We bring you with us to the Thrusters. I explain that it's pointless to dispose of you without making a profit on the deal. I'll argue that I get to sell you off, one more of my souvenir's to sell. They get the information cleared away."
@zerogstar shook her head. "They won't go for that." A person entered the store, a young woman dressed in jeans and a brown shirt. @zerostar watched closely, but the woman seemed harmless. "They'll want me scrapped and my brain shattered."
"Then I hide you away. I say we found you and retrieved the intel." The shopper started walking toward us. I paused, glancing at @foxcutter, but then the woman veered off and went down another row of shelves. Ralph was watching her to, making his way to the checkout counter. "But you'll need to give me the intel, a copy at least. I'll say that my honor requires to hand it over, but my wallet demands I make a profit on it."
@zerogstar shook her head again. "I don't know."
"I don't think we have other options."
"How would I get out?" she asked, her brown eyes returned from the shopper back to me. She was earnest. Not scared. She was ready.
"I cause a commotion. @foxcutter, my shipmate here, will stay with you. I'll cause a panic across the station, and he'll get you to our ship. With any luck, I'll get there too." I turned to @foxcutter. "If I don't make it, you know what to do. I'll stash a memoryshard here and blow myself up."
"Yes, sir," @foxcutter said, very formal, but he placed a hand on my shoulder.
Seemed like it was all coming together. I'd go to the Thrusters and hope they were cool with my change of plans. If not, I'd blow myself up. And if they were, I'd go to Void's Edge, get the information I needed, cause a panic across Itokawa, and then run for it.
Or blow my self up. Funny how that's always one of my first thoughts. I needed to work on living more and dying less.
"What will you do to cause a commotion?" @zerogstar asked. "It's not like you can just pull an alarm and chaos ensues."
The shopper paid Ralph and then left, not giving us a second thought. I exhaled and looked back at @zerogstar.
"I'm the Fracker. I'll leak it and have it broadcast across the station. I'm sure that will get their attention."
@zerogstar laughed at me. "No one will believe that."
I didn't laugh back, but I smiled to myself.
"Oh, they'll believe me all right." I flashed a video clip from my memory of our mining accident on Itokawa, something only I had seen, briefly on the wall. I watched her eyes bulge as she understood.
"That's right. I really am the Fracker. I'm pretty sure everyone's going to want a word with me."