Both the café and all the labs were in the station’s central cylinder, so we only had to take the main lift up two stops from the Rel Lab to get there. The café was a big circular room with a semi-circular counter on one side of the lift and tables and chairs scattered on the other. Eight hatches around the circumference of the café opened onto bridges leading to the main station ring.

We sat down at a table.

"So is your gang name Juno Random, then?" Garo said, thankfully keeping his voice low.

I grumbled. "It's Juno, yeah. Not Random, though. And it's not my gang name, it's my only name."

Garo gave me a greasy smile. "Agven, Almendra, Juno...sounds like you have quite a few names."

I glared at him. "Juno is my only real name."

“Then it's the one you were born with?”

"Yeah."

"And you were born into a cycler gang."

I glared at him.

"So Random―that isn't your gang affiliation?"

How did he know this stuff? Shiz, my peeps were not keeping things quiet enough on the StarNet.

"No,” I replied, grinding my teeth.

"Of course not," he said, staring intently at me. My skin was crawling. He reached out a hand. "What brings a hipster to an Academy research facility?"

"That's a long―" Before I could finish, he touched my face. I smacked his hand away, leaving a red mark on his wrist. I hoped it would leave a bruise.

I shot him a withering look.

"S―sorry, it's just I've always wondered what a hipster―feels like," he said, a dribble of spit for realz hanging from the corner of his creepy-ass smile.

My wrist communicator buzzed. I pressed the hold toggle.

"Garo, can you get me some coffee? I'm still kinda tired out from those meds they gave me for my gut."

He nodded, looking apologetic, and got up. I wasn't sure we'd have much time to hang around and drink it, but anything to get him away from me for a minute.

I pressed the hold toggle again. "It's me," said Fern's voice in a whisper. "I've only got a few minutes. I made some copies of the data files and loaded them up on a different console for the observers to look at and excused myself to use the toilet. They will wonder if I take too long, though."

I glanced across the café at the counter. The queue for coffee was long, and it was all hand-poured in this fancy place; my peeps would appreciate that. "What's up?"

"They were asking me about some―unusual characters―that they met on the Cinquefoil Seven, trying to imply that they were part of my 'unorthodox' research team. I told them absolutely not; my team is just you and me. I asked if they could describe them, and they were able to do better than that: they had snapped pics on their wrist comms and synced them with mine," she said. "Recognize them?"

Fern sent the pics. One was super beefy, with an orange buzz-cut and freckles. The other, despite his impressive scientist getup, still had thick black frames over an eye with a scar under it. I swallowed hard.

"Shiz, Fern, I know those guys. They're bad feeds. I can't believe Betts would seek out their help; they've given a bunch of gangs wrong intel on Hipstamatic finds. What the hell?"

Fern was silent for a moment.

"I don't know, but I'm close to finishing up here."

Her tone of voice quirked. "Why is Dr. Palendize following you around? You need to lose him before we leave here."

I ground my teeth and sighed. "It's a long story, but he knows―too much about me, so I can't get rid of him easily if we don't want him to tattle on us. I'm kinda worried we might have to take him with us if we don't want to get pwned."

More silence on the comm.

"Damnit, J―Dr. Almendra, how did that happen? Nevermind. I'll send you a buzz when I'm on my way. If you lose him then, hopefully that'll give us enough of a lead to get out of here."

"Ok, will do," I murmured.

"Oh, and if you can avoid the―bad feeds―until I'm done, I'll find you in the obs―"

Garo piped up behind me and I almost jumped out of my skin. I killed the link.

He looked giddy. "Who are you talking to? Were you contacting some of your gang buddies back on your junkworld?"

I clicked my comm off without thinking. Garo set our coffees down on the table.

"Uh―" I started. "Yeah, that's what I was doing," I said.

This only made him more excited. As he sat down his gaze didn't leave me for a second. "So we have time now, right? You can tell me more. What kind of bike do you have?"

My stomach dropped, as I remembered my beautiful bike. I somehow doubted I'd ever get it back now. "I had a Diamondback-Astro tricked out to the nines," I grumbled.

"Oooh, nice," he said, sipping his coffee.

I rolled my eyes. What the frig did he know about tricked out bikes?

I chugged my coffee. Not bad for being brewed by nerds, but not as good as at the speakeasies on Beta Fornax II; you just couldn't beat the artisanal single-origin hand-pour from back home. Well, single synthed origin, anyway.

My eyes caught something at the hatch that led from the customs bridge. The café had been relatively quiet, with the murmurs of folk chatting mostly swallowed up by the noise-absorbing walls and high ceiling. But a few specks in lab coats had just entered from the customs bridge and were talking very loudly.

I squinted to make them out. They were the bad feeds dressed up as nerds. "Garo," I said slowly. "We need to go."

I hoped that they would take longer to recognize me. I tried to walk real casual toward one of the other bridge hatches. Garo followed me to a sign that read "Hab Bridge East." We weren't going fast enough, though, so by the time we got to the hatch, I noticed them picking up their pace even more. Before the hatch closed behind us, they had broken into a run. Surprised café customers swiveled to glance at the running scientists.

The tiny porthole windows blurred as we ran down the bridge, our footfalls making the narrow tube vibrate as we ran. The hatchway into the East Hab section of the main ring slid silently open anticipating our approach; we were greeted by a smaller lift and a concave wall of doors to the left and right. I smacked a button on the lift, not thinking too much about which way we were going.

I thought back to our initial approach to the station, and I couldn’t remember seeing lift tubes between the rings themselves, but that must have been what this was. Guess they were too small to see from there.

Garo was breathing hard. I scowled at him. "Don't get much exercise, do ya?"

For the first time since he starting clinging to me, he grumbled. "I'm stuck on duty shifts for months at a time here, and they don't have a lot in the way of exercise equipment."

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

“You could do laps around the station rings,” I suggested, smirking.

The lift door opened, and we got in. I punched a button that looked like it would take us far from here. The door stayed open just long enough for me to see the goons running straight for us, shouting. I grimaced, bracing myself for a rumble. One goon's fingers managed to grab the inside of the closing lift door, but it had already committed, and his fingers pulled out quickly to avoid getting crushed.

"Who are those guys?" Garo said. "Did the ACO find you out?"

I shook my head as I felt the lift lurch down. "Had a—“, I caught myself, but then decided the truth couldn’t hurt at this point, “—falling out with my gang leader. She sent these guys after me. Not sure what they want, but I’m not really into finding out, ya know?"

I leaned against the lift wall to catch my breath.

"Oh," he said, huffing and puffing between grins. "Where'll you go? I guess you want to get off the station, huh?"

I sighed. "Yes, that's the idea. I'm helping Dr. Angstrom with her research. We've got a shuttle lined up to leave as soon as she finishes some stuff."

He nodded slowly and the lift jolted as it came to a stop. The doors slid open. Blank walls stretched off to the left and right and a bridge hatchway was sealed before us. The lift display said we were on the negative 20th story. Ok, then.

Garo saw me looking at the display instead of exiting. "This is the utility level. It's the lowest part of the station," he said, providing useful information for the first time ever.

We hopped out of the lift and ran down the bridge. A door slid open in the central cylinder, letting us out into a massive semicircular room almost as tall as the Rel Lab, but here we were on the ground floor of it, and I couldn't see any access stairways to other parts. Just octagonal tanks leaving barely any room for movement. They looked like giant power gen modules. Past all the power gen mods was the central lift access.

"There they are," a booming voice shouted. I spun around, trying to find the source of it. I spotted a massive cargo hatch and more power gen mods. And the goons.

"Hey 'Snatcher, we just want to talk to you, no need to run," one of the goons said.

"'Snatch?" Garo asked, "Is that your gang's name?"

I scowled at him. "C'mon," I said, deciding to try my luck with the cargo hatch. It had a person-sized hatch embedded in it, so I pulled the lever on it. The door scraped open, and we bounced through.

It slammed shut behind us, and red lights and klaxons filled the cargo hangar we had just entered. A synth voice announced, "Warning, incoming freighter. Depressurization in 5 seconds."

There was another cargo hatch opposite the one we'd come through. I could hear Garo's huffing and puffing behind me as I made for it. Shiz. The lever wouldn't give. I leaned against it and saw the bad feeds slam the first cargo hatch behind them.

"Depressurization cycle has begun," the synth voice informed us.

Their eyes widened. We just stared at each other. No matter how deep I breathed I felt like I was suffocating. I felt light-headed and there was a burning sensation in my chest.

All four of us looked frantically around for any way out.

Uh, yeah, the cargo bay doors for the freighter looked to be the only thing that was gonna open. Through rapidly blurring vision, I scanned the wall and found an emergency oxy tank and some masks on our side of the hangar. Garo and I shared the tank and we watched as the bad feeds found one on the other side to share.

Next to the oxy tank were some graphene fiber straps that we could use to buckle ourselves to the wall so we didn't go flying out along with all the air when the cargo bay doors opened. We got ourselves nice and snug against the wall.

Through his mask, I heard the muffled voice of Bodo, the orange buzzcut goon. "We just want to talk, Juno."

I shrugged. "So talk," I shouted back through my mask. "What in Dixie de la Tour's name could you possibly want to talk to me about?"

Bodo snarled. Or maybe the oxy mask just made him sound funny. His eyes looked mean, though. Whatevs.

"You have something that Betts needs," he shouted. "You know what it is."

I almost choked on the canned air. "I do? I haven't a clue what yer yammering on about. Just spit it out and tell me what it is. And why would Betts want your help anyhow? You guys have only brought grief to Bandersnatch's leaderboard position."

Glamqueen, the other bad feed spoke up. "Your scanner," he said. "We came here to get it from you so we can keep it safe."

Keep it safe? This time I really did choke. On my own spit, I guess, but I fell into a hacking fit as I tried to wrap my head around that―Betts knew about Tilly? If she did, how would she have let me get away with having it all this time, and only now, spend who knows how many infobucks to send goons she didn't trust after me to "keep it safe"?

There was whole lot of whack going on, and it didn't make any sense.

I didn't get a chance to reply because the cargo bay doors slid open, and I felt my feet get yanked from under me. The straps strained to hold me to the wall. I prayed to the most uncool of my ancestors that these midtown straps would hold, as I watched the hulking ship glide in. It's landing gear creaked and made the whole friggin' bay vibrate as it hit the deck. I couldn't hear anything (no air), but my skin tingled from the vibes.

The ship powered down and the cargo bay doors slit shut again.

"Pressurization cycle beginning," the synth voice announced. I ripped the mask and straps off of me and made for the door again. The lever didn't budge, but I was ready for it as soon as it unlocked. The bad feeds were unstrapping as the freighter crew disembarked and looked askance at all of us. We got lucky, because they started toward the goons first and began giving them an earful about station safety protocols, blah blah blah.

Finally the damn lever moved, and Garo followed me through the hatch.

We were in the other semi-circle of this level. It contained floor-to-ceiling cylinders―this time synth modules―I supposed to synth supplies for all the crazy science experiments they did here.

We ran toward a hatch labeled "North West Bridge" across from where we'd entered. As we headed for the bridge hatch, the small cargo bay door opened and Bodo and Glamqueen came for us.

They paused in their pursuit and spread their arms, palms up. "C'mon, Juno. It's nothing personal, but your scanner is―important. We just don't want it in the wrong hands. You'll get it back when this is all over, but―"

"You could have called or written if you just wanted to talk," I shouted back. "And the scanner was my mom's. It's mine by rights, nobody else gets it."

Garo followed me as I smacked the button for the bridge hatch and slipped through it. I glanced back through the hatch window to see Betts' talkative minions giving chase. So much for just wanting to talk.

We ended up in another part of the ring on this level, with just the West Lift in front of us. I punched a random lift button, and we shot up, again evading the bleekers chasing us.

With a moment to breathe again, Garo asked, "Your scanner―is that what you use to receive instructions from Hipstamatic?"

This guy was insufferable. Whatever the risk, I couldn't take it anymore. "Ya know, buddy, we have a word for your kind of creepers," I growled.

His plastered-on grin turned upside-down.

"Puppy pervs," I spat, and ran out of the lift, not caring if he followed. The West bridge was right in front of me so I ran down it, watching the specks of starlight through the portholes whizz by as I made my way to―hey, I was back in the café. How'd that happen? I seemed to have come in through the service entrance, because the dining room staff were everywhere. Perfect. This would hopefully distract my pursuers, including Garo if I was lucky.

I zigged and zagged, trying not to knock over chefs and waiters and baristas, and made my way out to the dining hall. My wrist comm buzzed. It was just text: "I'm ready, meet me in the observation lounge whenever you can."

Hell yeah. Finally could get out of this place. And maybe even lose Garo. I thought back to the map Fern showed me earlier. I'd want the Observation Bridge, which was accessible from the north end of the café. I ran that way, once I got free of the café staff. I heard Garo's and then other footsteps clomping hard behind me. Shiz. I risked a quick glance behind me. Oh hey, it seemed that the ACOs finally wondered why people were stomping around their pristine space station for the last twenty minutes. So now it was Garo, goons, and ACOs all on my tail. Fun times.

More clunking as I ran down the Observation Bridge, hoping I had enough of a lead to get through the airlock before they all caught up with me. Hoping that Fern was already there. The hatch opened on to the Observation Lounge―it looked a lot like a miniature version of the waiting area back at the starport on BF-II. A monitor was flashing "BOARDING" over an airlock to the left. Fern was there waving me on. Some other scientists sat around poring over data pads; none seemed to notice me being all out of breath. At least it looked like I had an excuse: I was late for my flight.

I rushed to the airlock and followed Fern through the hatch. It sealed shut, the automated system recognizing that all passengers were through, and so it could start the pressurization cycle; I'd had enough pressurization for one day. I heard a smack before it completed and saw Garo frowning through a window in the airlock hatch. I hope he didn't snitch on us.

I turned away from his pasty face for hopefully the last time ever and caught my breath while we waited for the shuttle doors to open. I looked at Fern.

"I hope you didn't have to run from them for too long," Fern said.

I laughed. A flood of relief washed over me. I kept laughing.

Fern looked puzzled, but then she started laughing, too.

"F―fern, I think I got a tour of the whole damn station," I said, still laughing. A kachunk sounded as the shuttle door opened and we entered a ship that looked no bigger than our compartment back on the Hibiscus Nine. The only difference was the console desk here had a lot more controls and the walls were packed with labels for things that I assumed would slide out of them when needed.

The door sealed behind us. Fern sat down at the console and began punching in flight instructions. I almost lost my balance, but grabbed the back of the hyperspace sofa when the shuttle lurched away from the docking bay. Fern pressed a button and put the ship into window mode, and all of the walls became view screens. I watched the massive beer can with its slowly spinning bicycle tires drift away behind us, then shrink as we accelerated.

"So I take it you got the results you wanted?" I said, stretching out.

Fern turned back toward me with a big old grin. "Oh yeah. Mother was right," she said. I could tell she was in a better mood if she wasn't calling her mom "Doctor."

Turning back to the console, she continued. "Not only was I able to trilaterate the signals and get a source, I was able to make out some of the content of the message stream―nothing comprehensible, seems to be machine instructions. Like something you'd use to reprogram a computer."

I got comfy on the sofa. "So where's it coming from?" For all this was stupid science stuff, my curiosity was piqued.

Fern shivered. "From beyond the Priaspora," she said.