May 23, 2361 AIA

Rising Ship 781014

Alix woke up to the sounds of a hushed argument.

There were the oddly pitched tones of a computer trying to sound human: “…considered an extra body on the return journey and adjusted my calculations accordingly, Captain.”

“Look, I know—I know you did, but she’s got nothing.”

“What does she need, sir?”

“Everything.”

“I anticipate that she will be able to survive adequately until we return to the base.”

“Because they have so much stuff there.”

“That statement is vague but generally accurate, yet I detect tones of sarcasm.”

Reyer used the protruding rim of the bulkhead to laboriously pull herself upright. “You’re teaching it to understand sarcasm?”

Vas started, then relaxed back into his chair. “I didn’t know you were awake. I thought you would sleep for longer after taking a hit like that.”

Alix stopped at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the cockpit. Her back and hip were telling her, in no uncertain terms, it wouldn’t be pleasant for her to try to climb them. “It’s not always easy for me to sleep.”

Vas turned his head to glance at her but refrained from commenting. At last, he said, “The programmer said the only way a bot could understand me was if it was trained in sarcasm. It wasn’t my idea, but—credit where it’s due—Lynx is getting to be almost decent at it.”

“Did this programmer also decide you needed a bot that would talk back?”

“Yes, he did. He thought that was vital.”

“Interesting. Should I ask why?”

“He thought it would be good for me.”

“Are you good for him, Lynx?”

“The parameters of your question are too uncertain for me to return an exact answer” was the reply.

“He’s smarter than most.” Reyer eyed the bot appreciatively.

“That’s ‘cause his creator is a smart-ass,” Vas said.

Reyer couldn’t stand for much longer. She eased herself back toward a bench. “A genius, I’d say.”

“That too.”

“Lynx, be good for something. Come here a moment.”

“Yes, Miss Reyer.” The bot stood up and climbed down the steps with three quick, heavy clicks.

Adan strained to hear what Alix was saying.

“Stand there, Lynx. Yes. Just there.”

Vas glanced back over his shoulder again. She was using the bot to lower herself back onto the bench. She tucked a leg under herself as she sat.

“That’s all you needed, Miss Reyer?” Lynx asked.

In the same quiet voice, she said, “Is there any Tranomine on this ship?”

“No, Miss Reyer.”

“You can call me ma’am, Lynx. I’m used to it from bots. That is, if you don’t begrudge me the respect.”

“I can neither grudge nor begrudge anything.”

“Would it conflict with any basic processes or programming? Or any currently active commands?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then I guess that’s the bot version of not begrudging.”

“That’s an interesting interpretation, Miss Reyer. I should let you know, the first-aid kit was fully stocked with Morphanine and Exaludnium before we left base. I can get—”

“No, Lynx. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll do without.”

“If that is your decision, ma’am.”

“It is, Lynx. Go back and harass your captain. I’m sure it’s good for him.”

Vas heard Lynx clank up the steps. The robot sat with a precise movement, placing itself exactly in the center of the chair. It looked at the panels.

“You’ve changed our course, Captain.”

Vas said, “We’re going to P31, Lynx.”

“Sir, we have our orders.”

“I have orders, Lynx. And you have orders from me.”

“Is this going to be one of those times, Captain?”

Vas was already turned to face his copilot, so it wasn’t hard for him to see Reyer’s obvious amusement, even in the gloom of the cabin. “Yes. Now shut up, Lynx. Get ready for landing procedures. We’ll be out of velox in less than a minute.”

“Yes, Captain.”

[https://i.imgur.com/6iM8gcI.png]

P31 was called Mesa Rojo by the locals. The planet was small for an M-class. It hadn’t needed terraforming, but that meant that whoever decided to live there was stuck with whatever nature or God had intended it to be. Clearly, it was intended to be an excellent workout for the legs.

Alix would have added, murder on the back.

There was a tremendous ocean at the southern region of the planet and an inhospitable set of mountains at the top. Everything else was an endless series of canyons and mesas that were shaped by the countless rivers. The flat tops of the mesas were protected areas, precious for growing food and giving ships a place to land. Water was pumped up the nearly two-thousand-meter cliffs for crops and general consumption. A few elevator shuttles ran beside the massive pipes, but if you wanted to go anywhere else, you took the stairs down the cliff faces or the tunnels through the mesas.

The houses, markets, and other buildings were all built into the cliff walls overlooking the channels of rivers that ran below. The rivers looked like ribbons of blue, green, and white. The nicer buildings were all clustered up toward the top, closer to the sun, further from the sound of the rushing water. The poorest lived close to the rivers, in the shadow of the canyons almost the entire day.

Vas was taking Reyer down to the center strata where the markets had naturally settled to sell to both the upper and lower levels.

“You’ve been here before?” Vas asked. They weren’t low enough he had to raise his voice over the sound of the river, but the noise was there, the endless background music to the whole planet.

“Several times,” Reyer said.

Vas noticed how hard she was gripping the handrail and how stiff she held herself as she walked down the stairs.

“I think I’ll get us a lift,” he said.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“No, you won’t.”

“Oh, really?” He motioned out over the empty air of the canyon, trying to catch the attention of one of the specially designed shuttle-ships that had permission to run as taxis.

“You made Lynx stay in the ship because he would draw attention.”

“People use the lifts all the time, Miss Reyer. It would hardly be drawing attention.”

“Do the people who use those lifts dress like us?”

Adan let his hand fall to his side as he considered the question. Her clothes had been shabby before they had become bloodstained and torn. They were the rough clothes you would get on a barely inhabited world, not the sleeker, closer cut layers that even the poor of Mesa Rojo wore. Her tan was too deep.

He would have been able to blend in on almost any planet, which was exactly why he’d chosen the clothes he did, but, again, people might have a question or two about the dried blood.

She was smiling again, in that knowing and incredibly irritating manner. “At least you left that shining showpiece back with Lynx.”

Vas turned and continued down the flight of stairs. “If you’re talking about my dao sword, I have to insist it isn’t a showpiece. It’s a very practical tool.”

“That you can’t carry around on any Supremacy-run planet. Now you know why I prefer my knife.”

He stopped. “Because you’re alarmingly good with it?”

“And it’s easier to hide,” she said as she passed him.

He looked appraisingly at the small of her back where the innocuous weapon was strapped horizontally to her belt. “Almost hide, Miss Reyer. You’ll need a longer vest if you want to be sure it’s hidden.”

“There are fewer peacekeepers and far more thieves around here. I don’t want it to be completely hidden.”

“Thieves? What are you afraid they’re going to steal?”

Reyer shrugged. “My knife.”

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Reyer stopped.

“Captain.” Her voice was barely louder than the sound of the river.

Vas took a step closer so he could hear her.

“Why are we really here?” She caught his eyes with her own. “This is a Rising stop point with several people buried as deep as they can be.”

Adan Vas leaned back on the rail, staring up the cliff toward the blue sky.

Reyer knew he was trying to decide how to answer and waited with her lips pressed together.

“It used to be, Miss Reyer,” he said, “but things have been happening in the years that you’ve been gone. We had to yank almost everyone from Mesa Rojo a while ago.”

“Was there a traitor?”

“We think so. It would make sense.”

“Then…what are we doing here?”

Vas looked at her. “I did say almost everyone, didn’t I?”

“We’re here for information?”

They continued walking.

“Among other things,” Vas said. “I hope you have something to spend?”

Reyer reached down and theatrically patted her pockets. “I guess not. Let’s pray the information is cheap.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Reyer. I’ll spot you this time.” From his own pocket, Vas pulled a clear bag of fine white powder.

“What’s that?” Her tone was sharp.

“Relax. It’s Exaludnium. The ship had plenty lying around, and no one was using it.”

Reyer sighed. “Isn’t that supposed to be saved for medical emergencies?”

Adan stopped and stared at her abdomen. His prolonged and meaningful gaze was focused at roughly the point where, on the other side, her old injury was throbbing bad enough to make her leg ache. Alix blushed.

“I think this qualifies,” he said.

“I don’t need your pity.” She blushed even deeper, mentally cursing herself for blurting out something so stupid. What am I? Ten?

“Maybe I was unclear—I think this qualifies, and I’m the captain of the ship. We’re going to get you out of those clothes and into something that won’t draw so much attention.”

As they continued walking, Vas watched out of the corner of his eye as Alix tried to find some way to argue with his logic. Since he’d stolen it directly from her, he doubted she’d be able to, but he wouldn’t have put it past her.

“Come on. The bookstore is over here,” he added.

“Bookstore?”

Judging from the note of excitement in her voice, she wouldn’t struggle to find an argument that might be too convincing.

Vas held the door open for her as Alix Reyer passed through. He scanned the walkways, looking for anyone who might be watching. When he was satisfied there was no one, he went inside and let the door close behind him.

As he turned, he saw the unnatural, uneasy stance Reyer had taken, and the shocked, blank expression on the store clerk’s face. Vas’s hand was already on the butt of his hidden e-pistol before Reyer and the clerk managed to master their faces and force themselves to relax.

“Good day, ma’am. Is there anything I can help you with? Are you looking for the new book by Romona Mills? It’s just out. Our most popular romance.”

Adan looked from Reyer to the clerk. She was doing everything to hide her smile, but he was grinning rather wickedly.

“I’m not really into romance,” Reyer said.

“I don’t believe it.”

“I’m not really into new books either. I like the old works.”

“Classics?”

“Do you have a reader with some Old Earth books on it?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. A friend of mine once told me they were the best books ever written, and, fool that I was, I believed her and bought a whole box before I found out they would never sell. I can get you one for practically nothing.”

“They are the best books ever written.”

The clerk walked toward her.

“Are we alone?” Reyer asked.

He nodded. They threw their arms around each other with a gasp and a laugh. A second later, Reyer let out a muffled cry.

“Dammit, Howell. You’re hurting me.”

Howell let her go but kept one hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sergeant. I didn’t figure you had gone all delicate.”

Vas walked over to them while tucking his sidearm back under his jacket. “Watch the names. We may be alone now, but we might not be in another second.” Adan and the clerk looked at each other. “And you’re not Howell,” Adan noted. “Not here. Hugo told me you were Tate. Joseph Tate.”

The man sobered up and let his hand fall back to his side. “Of course.” He looked at Reyer. “I’m Joseph Tate, and you’re dead. So what should I call you?”

Alix’s face went still.

Adan rushed to fill in. “She’s…” He looked at her. “She’s Bella Thorne.”

The man called Joseph Tate nodded. He put his hand out and gently pushed on the bandage over her forearm. “I can see you’ve been leading a peaceful life.”

“Is Hugo in, Tate?” Vas peered around the empty shop.

“Yes, sir. If you have a special order in with him, he’ll be happy to see you.” Tate pointed up the stairs to the second level of the shop. “He’s in his office. If you’ll excuse me, I have some books to unpack and set up on display.” He nodded to both of them. “If either of you need me, please let me know.”

Vas had to take Reyer by the arm before she would follow him.

“Hugo chose to stay?” she asked as she made her way painfully up the narrow staircase.

“Yes,” Vas said from behind her. “I’m not sure we could get him out to save his own life.”

Alix gazed over the three floors of dark wood shelves filled with books from every era and every planet. Hugo had readers. Hugo sold readers. You had to in this galaxy. But those shameful things were hidden behind the desks, taking up as little space as they were designed to. The rest of the store was devoted to ink on paper. Reyer had never understood or shared his obsession—the readers were too convenient and portable—but she would admit the books looked much more beautiful.

“It’s not his life you’d have to save. It’s all this,” she said.

“My ship would fall out of the sky if I tried to take half his inventory.”

Reyer smiled to acknowledge his joke and continued up the stairs.

Hugo grumbled when he heard his door open. After meticulously placing his bookmark and putting down his reading glasses, he felt ready to confront the intruders. He put his everyday glasses on. “Yes? What?”

Less than a second later, he was on his feet—which was impressive considering how much extra weight he had to lift. He stood there, his enormous belly pushing against his desk.

“My god! Reyer!”

“Hugo,” she said.

Alix felt a soft sting of disappointment that Hugo’s greeting for her was nothing more than that startled exclamation. He turned immediately to her companion.

“Vas! What’s the meaning of this?” If anything, he sounded angry.

The captain held up his hand as he looked out the window of the office. “Your voice carries, Hugo.”

Hugo twitched his nose and glared.

“We came because we need help and information.”

Hugo dropped himself back into his old leather chair. “What kind of help? Have you decided to take up reading as a hobby? Because if you want something other than books—”

“Can you exchange this”—Vas held up the packet of white powder—“for credits?”

“White powder of almost any kind is easy to turn into credits, but I can’t do that, and you damn well know it. You’ll have to use your own private means. Why do you need credits?”

“We need supplies.”

“And your bosses haven’t seen fit to give you any?”

“They didn’t expect me to need supplies. They’re for Miss Reyer.”

At last Hugo looked back at Alix. “Sit down, Miss Reyer. I’m sorry for my lack of manners, but I was not expecting to see you.”

Reyer sat on one of the other two chairs.

Hugo leaned forward, putting his folded hands on the cover of his book. “What can I do to get you out of here as soon as possible?”

“Am I that much of a bother?” Alix asked.

Hugo scowled at her, then looked up at Vas.

“You’re jumpy because you know more than most people,” Vas assured him. “You know more than anyone else on this planet. We’ll be fine.”

“The question is not what I know, Vas, but what they know.”

“And do they know about you?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Now Hugo scowled at his book.

Vas continued, “We’ll need clothes for her, but the less she’s seen, the better. Let her stay here while I make some runs.”

“Let you go shopping for women’s clothes? Hardly.” Hugo reached over and pressed a button on his intercom. “Joseph, are you busy with a customer?”

The reply came back a moment later. “No, sir.”

“Come up to my office. I seem to have mislaid a special order.”

It wasn’t long before Tate entered the office. He nodded to Vas and Reyer.

“You still have that lovely young girl, don’t you? What’s her name?” Hugo waved his hand, obviously irritated at his memory’s failing.

“Daphne, sir. Yes.”

“Congratulations! You now have a sister. Would you say Daphne is about this woman’s size?”

Tate sized up Reyer with his eyes, then turned back to his boss. “Yes, sir. She’s taller than Daphne, but not by much.”

“Then buy everything long. Your sister needs some new clothes, and you thought you’d help her out. Can you work with that?”

“Easily, Mr. Hugo.”

“She won’t want to meet this sister of yours?”

“What are you talking about, sir? My family lives off world. I can’t really go and visit on a book clerk’s pay.”

“I’ll transfer money over to your account. Go now, if you please, while the shop isn’t busy.” Hugo raised his leviathan bulk with a small groan. “I’ll have to watch the counter for a while.” He pointed at Vas. “You run your errands quickly.”

The captain nodded.

“What about Miss Thorne?” Tate asked.

“Miss Thorne?” Hugo noticed who his clerk was looking at. “Oh. Miss Thorne. She’s gone. She stopped by to pick up a reader she had on reserve and then left immediately. She isn’t here.”

Tate turned to the nonexistent Miss Thorne. “Basic kit?”

“Basic kit, minus the e-weapon,” Reyer said. “Unless your sister has violent tendencies.”

Joseph Tate shook his head. “You have no idea.”