A.M. Scott's Blog, page 7

Cover Reveal! Quinn of Cygnus: Escape Velocity

Wow! Look at this cover–I absolutely love it.

A huge thank you to the fabulous folks at Deranged Doctor Design–they knocked it out of the park again!

Buy links coming soon!

Quinn of Cygnus: Lift Off Book Birthday!

Gentle Beings, we have ignition! Quinn of Cygnus: Lift Off should be live at all book retailers.

Now, just to make life interesting, there maybe be some hang fires (problems) at some retailers. Amazon just finished up Prime Day and Barnes & Noble’s publishing interface has been wonky all week. I haven’t been able to get the print version out of ‘edit’ mode.

If your chosen store doesn’t send your book and their help function doesn’t work, please let me know and I’ll make it right.

I hope you enjoy the book!

Cover Reveal! Quinn of Cygnus: Lift Off

Quinn of Cygnus: Lift Off Chapter Fourteen

This is a somewhat revised draft, so there are some inconsistencies with previous chapters. For example, I’ve renamed the “extreme fitness challenge” to the “Atlas Challenge” and other such stuff. The main story hasn’t changed, and there are still some awkward phrases, typos, and some fine details missing. I’ll also be adding additional background for people who haven’t read the Folding Space Series.  I’ll publish a new chapter every week. Enjoy!

See Chapter One here.

Chapter Fourteen

 

Q yelled, “Hah!”

Groans sounded. “Seriously?” Kylr asked. “How do you keep winning?”

Q looked him straight in the eyes. “I cheat.”

The young Gov Human military member stared back, then laughed, shaking his head. “No, you don’t. You’ve just got whip-fast reflexes.”

He was right. She’d gotten faster since she started training for the Atlas Challenge. But Q was kind of cheating, too, because she’d played every single variation of this game already. The game designers asked Adzari Academy to test it, so designing and writing testing protocols became a third-year student project, while the first-years got to do the actual testing. Q sighed, remembering. The game was fun the first fifty times or so, then it was just drudgery. It was back to being fun now because of the company, not the game itself.

She hadn’t appreciated being dumped off in the junior enlisted recreation compartment like a little kid at a care site, but this group of first-tour military was fun. They came from all over the universe, mostly core system worlds that were jam-packed giant cities. Q would love to see a planet-city, but she’d never want to live there. Omicron was close enough.

“Let’s go, Q!” Winby exclaimed, bouncing enthusiastically in her cloud-chair. How could she move that much in the squishy bag-chair? Winby was super-sweet and an organizational wonder—she’d been the one to group all of them into teams on various games, so they could all get some play time, even though few of them knew each other and there weren’t enough systems. Q helped by setting up temporary links between team members’ e-torcs, making Winby her new best friend.

Q shook her head with a smile. “I need a break, Winby. Go ahead without me.”

“If you insist.” She turned to the rest of her team. “Come on, let’s go.”

Sauntering over to the bev station, Q noticed that, despite Windby’s best attempts, there were several people not joining in the fun. A few appeared to be completely immersed in vids or books on their own, but there were also a couple who looked uncomfortable, nervous, or maybe even scared. Well, if she hadn’t been thoroughly terrorized over the last couple of years, she might be scared too.

Stuck in space on a fold transport or a station with nowhere to run, in a military structure that took away your personal freedoms and put control in your superior’s hands, with a whole bunch of people you didn’t know or trust could be a scary situation. Gov Human’s military said they did a great job weeding out predators and providing oversight and channels for reporting, but Q had already seen signs that wasn’t completely true. But she’d also heard several recruits talk about the military being their only way out of a terrible home situation. If they got the wrong commanders, could it turn into something worse?

From what Q saw in Familia, selfish, evil people tended to find each other, so if a recruit had a bad boss, it wasn’t unlikely the next person up the chain of command was just as bad, if not worse. It was probably the same in the military. In the two days they’d been on board, she’d seen more than a few instances of abusive language and intimidation already. Even though they were on the Gov Human Laniakea Fleet Commander’s flagship, she kept hearing alarms and warnings in her head. She’d seen too many Familia-like tactics used on the junior enlisted she was hanging out with.

“Q, right?” A man and woman crowded her against the bev station. They were a little older than the crowd she’d been playing vid games with, trying to intimidate with their stares, standing too close.

Q sighed internally. Why did she always have to be right? If she hadn’t spent the last year on a Familia enforcer fold transport, she’d be worried right now. Instead, she met their eyes with long stares back. “Yes.”

“You’re cute. We should play a different game. Alone.” The woman made a circle with her finger, obviously including the man and the two of them.

“No, thanks.”

“You don’t want to turn us down, recruit,” the man said menacingly.

She laughed at him. Why hadn’t she turned on her personal vid? Q flicked a finger toward her holo, but the woman caught her hand and forced it down. Q said, “Let go, now.”

“I don’t think so, cutie.”

“Wrong girl to pick on,” Q told her. Now, what was her best play here? Victim or aggressor? Quiet or loud? These two had undoubtedly done this before. Loud and victim it was. Q dropped to her knees, one landing hard on top of the man’s foot, throwing her drink in the air, splashing both of them. “Ow! Let me go!” she screamed. Gratifyingly, everyone turned to look. Most looked away, telling Q she was right, these two had taken advantage of their positions multiple times. She poked at her holo and turned the vid on, the automatic identification feature turning on with it.

“Oh, so sorry,” the woman, Sergeant Z’Tera, said sweetly, gripping her hand tighter. “Just trying to help.”

“You’re rather clumsy, recruit,” the man, Sergeant Berten, added on, yanking his foot back and wiping drops from his face. Even wearing boots, that had to sting.

Q twisted her hand loose from Z’Tera’s. “Even if I was a recruit, you’d still be wrong.” In one move, she jumped to her feet and back and noted the surprise on their faces with great satisfaction. They glanced at each other and walked to the compartment’s hatch. Sand vipers. Quick on the attack but equally fast to run away if the prey fought back. Too bad she didn’t get vid of that whole encounter. She had a feeling the compartment’s vids had a “temporary malfunction.”

She refilled her bev-tainer—fortunately, she’d only had water in it, and a remote was already mopping—and plopped down in an empty chair. Despite her confident act, confrontation was hard. Q took a drink and breathed slowly and evenly, getting her heart rate back under control.

A few minutes later, a boy dropped into the chair next to hers, scowling. He wore the same grey T-shirt and black shorts the others did, so he was obviously in the Gov Human military, but he looked pretty young. Was he a new recruit? Or was this another attempt at seduction or information gathering?

The boy ignored her, scrolling through his holo, so Q ignored him. She checked her messages again, knowing it was too soon for the Sisters to send one back, but she was still worried. What if Familia went in, full force, looking for her? What if they just set up net sniffers, looking for messages from her? She’d sent hers from a Gov Human public address and didn’t use her name, but they might figure it out. Familia wasn’t stupid.

“Hey, who are you?” the kid next to her asked.

“Who wants to know?” Q retorted. She discretely flicked her vid recorder on. She’d have proof this time.

His brows jumped high, drawing her attention to the pink patches on his face. They stood out against his black-coffee skin tone everywhere else. “Oh, sorry. I just assumed you’d have access to the ship’s list. I’m Cap—” his shoulders dropped “—I mean, Lan.”

He didn’t know his own name? “Which is it? Cap or Lan?”

He sighed. “Look, it’s Caplan. I’ve gone by Cap my whole life, but in the military, ‘Cap’ is short for Captain, and I’m a long way away from that.” He snorted. “So, now, I’m stuck with Lan.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” It seemed like one of those things the military would insist on. “Sorry you’re stuck. So, which one do you want me to use?”

His mouth twisted. “Lan, I guess. I’m used to it. Mostly.”

Q shrugged. “Okay, Lan, you got it. I’m Q.”

“Q? Okay.” Lan shrugged. “So, what are you doing here? You’re not military. There’s no way you’re old enough.”

Q scowled. “You don’t look old enough either.”

“Well, I am. But you’re not.”

Q didn’t hold back her eye roll. These guys were all the same. “Technically, I am old enough. But I’m not military. I’m here because I’m with some people meeting with Gov Human military leaders, but I can’t be in the meetings because…reasons.”

“What kind of meetings?”

“The none-of-your-business kind.” Q frowned at him. She’d thought Lan might be smarter. Too bad.

“Oh. Sorry.”

Lan didn’t look very sorry. He looked curious. She’d throw it back at him. “What’s up with the pink patches on your face?”

He scowled at her. “None of…you know what? It doesn’t matter. They removed my tattoos, okay?”

“You had tattoos on your face?”

“Yes. It’s part of my culture, a family marking. But Gov Human military doesn’t allow it. Says it interferes with facial recognition and makes it easier to fool your teammates with a body modded infiltrator.” Lan snorted. “Like they can’t make a perfect copy of anyone if they start with the right height and weight. Or fix those too. But why would anyone bother with me? I’m a first-termer, just got here. By the time I’m somebody, people will know me.”

Q snickered. “You could be a deep-cover infiltrator right now, playing the long game.”

“Right.” Lan laughed. Then he sobered and leaned in, whispering, “I might be a spy.”

They stared at each other, Q holding back laughter, the twitch of Lan’s lips saying he was doing the same. Finally, they both laughed.

“You’re funny,” Q said.

“So are you. Cute, too.”

“Aww, thanks.” Q looked away for a second to collect her thoughts. She didn’t want to offend Lan, but she did want to know. “So, this tattoo removal. Um, I get that it sucks for you, but is it painful?”

Lan shrugged a little. “Feels like a bad sunburn. A little numbing spray and it’s fine. Why?”

“Because I need a tattoo removed.” Before Lan could ask, Q scowled. “And no, I’m not going to show you or tell you about it. I just need it gone. Thanks for telling me.”

Lan held up both hands. “No problem. Happy to help.” He snorted softly. “At least one good thing will come out of this.” He pointed at his cheeks.

“I really do appreciate it.” Q’s messaging pinged with a message from Saree. Well, not Saree. It was “Restricted User 1701” because they were trying to keep her presence on General Kerr’s flagship quiet. Q still didn’t know why, but she was happy about it because it kept her presence quiet too. They all knew Familia had lots of sources inside Gov Human, including the military. She was Restricted User 1703. “Hey, gotta go. Nice to meet you, Lan.” She smiled. “Maybe I’ll see you here again.”

He returned her smile. “I hope so. Take care.”

Q left the recreation compartment and made her way to their favorite bev station. It was a favorite only because it was close to their sleeping compartments and General Kerr’s office level—all the military folder bev stations served the exact same thing. So boring. So was this e-torc, now that she wasn’t plugged into the rec compartment net. She stopped just in time to avoid running into Saree. “This thing sucks. It’s so slow.”

Ruhger joined them, sipping on his bev-tainer, probably one of those horrible protein shake things. Yuck. “Better than not having one at all, isn’t it?” Ruhger asked her.

“Maybe.” Q shrugged. “Yeah, sure. It’s better.” They walked way too slowly to their compartment. It was a real let-down after Familia’s luxury. She shivered. But it didn’t come with the inherent evil either. Well, hopefully, that was behind her. If she could get rid of this tattoo, she could leave the constant reminder behind too. It was as good a time as any to ask. “So, they get a lot of recruits through here. I’ve met a bunch.” Q frowned. That wasn’t very clear.

“Yes, they do.” Ruhger scowled. “Are they bothering you?”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Q waved Captain Super-Protective off. “I can handle those kids. No, someone told me part of military in-processing is removing tattoos and scars. Do you think they’d remove mine?”

“We can ask,” Saree said. “I don’t know why they wouldn’t.”

“Oh, good. Because I want this—” Q made a circular motion around her stomach “—gone. Now.” So badly.

“I’m sorry, I should have thought about that.” Saree’s shoulders drooped, then she perked up. “We can get you a full physical while we’re at it. Who knows what else those—” her mouth clamped shut for a moment “—people did to you.”

Q’s nose wrinkled and she held back a shiver. “Ooh, creepy. But a good idea.” She nodded, a little frantically, and tried to get her overreaction under control. “Yeah, the sooner the better.” She bit her lip to keep herself from saying anything else.

“I’ll send a message to General Kerr’s aide right now. After putting us through today, they’d better jump right on this.”

“So, no progress?” Q asked. Blast. More time in the rec compartment with the recruits. And the potential for more predators. She seemed to draw them in like candy.

They both shook their heads.

“What about…” Oh, wait, she couldn’t say the folder’s name. “…your crew?”

“Nothing,” Ruhger said. “I’m getting…concerned.”

They entered their compartment. Just four bunks, one of the bottoms made into a couch, a small table with four chairs, an auto-bev, galley sink, and a decent sani-mod. This sucked like giant black holes next to her compartment on Indomito. And sharing with the lovebirds was equally awful. All those longing looks. Q rolled her eyes.

“So, Q, we’ve got access to our credit accounts again,” Saree said. “How about a meal out in the Station?”

“Yes! Let’s eat some real food!” Military food was so boring. Nutritionally correct but mostly tasteless with an undertone of yeast. Yuck. She’d heard there was far better food on the Station. Commuter shuttles flew every thirty minutes between the flagship and the Station, so it should be easy to get there and back.

Ruhger chuckled. “Not Familia-style, right?”

What was wrong with him?! Ew. “No!” Q said.

Saree said, “I wonder if there’s an Old Earth Middle East restaurant here?”

Ruhger arched a brow at her. “Two kills with one shot?”

What was he talking about? More stuff she was too young to know. Q scowled at them.

Saree grimaced. “Let’s not do any shooting tonight.”

Especially when they wouldn’t give her even a stunner.

“Hopefully.” Ruhger shrugged. “Just a turn of phrase.”

“Oh!” Q remembered she was in recruit shorts and T-shirt. If they were going somewhere nice, she needed new clothes. “I need to figure out what I’m wearing, and I need a shower.” She opened the clothing storage compartment and peered inside. Was there anything worth wearing in here? Q missed the clothes printers from their Familia shuttle. Why didn’t everyone have those?

Ruhger said, “You go first, Saree. Take your time.”

“Thanks.” Saree slid past Q.

There wasn’t anything good in here, just plain shipsuits. Maybe they could buy something on the Station? She ought to be able to reach her numbered accounts. But if she did and Familia figured it out somehow, they wouldn’t think twice about activating an agent to capture her again. No, she was dependent on Gov Human, Saree, and Ruhger. This sucks. Q pulled a plain, dark blue shipsuit out of the compartment, along with some underclothes, and plopped down next to Ruhger to wait.

Even if she couldn’t wear something pretty, at least she’d get some real food out of this deal.

∆∆∆

“That was delicious. Thank you,” Saree told their server, a young girl.

Saree was right, it was delicious. The spices reminded Q of some of the stews they had on Lightwave, folding away from Cygnus Gliese, but so much better. And it smelled so good. If only the Gov Human military folder smelled like this!

A man stopped at each table and eventually made it to them. He wore loose, floor-length white robes and a black cloth draped over his head, secured by a twisted black rope. The man bowed, with complicated arm and hand waving. “Peace to you. I hope you are enjoying the meal?”

Ruhger nodded at the man. “Yes. It’s delicious.” Ruhger kept staring at the man, straight in the eyes.

The man asked, “Is there something else I can assist you with, then?”

“Are you familiar with the Circinus Madras?”

What is that? She’d have to look it up later.

“Yes, of course. I have family there.” He frowned slightly at Ruhger. “Why do you ask?”

“Because we were there not too long ago and left under… difficult circumstances. We hoped to hear news.”

“Good news, preferably,” Saree said quietly.

“Ah.” The man nodded again. “They sustained some damage, but it was quickly repaired.” Both Saree and Ruhger looked relieved, but he held up a hand. “The physical damage was repaired. Political damage also occurred. There has been a change of leadership, and you will not be welcome. No outsider is. Many areas of study have been eliminated, and some students have departed.”

Saree asked urgently, “Is the Maulana all right?”

“The former Maulana is well, as is the new Maulana.” White teeth flashed in his tan face for a moment. “We are a religion of peace, remember? But still, the previous Maulana has left the Madras and entered a contemplative community on Circinus, taking a vow of silence, poverty, and service.” He shook his head. “You will not meet him again in this life. You must find another way to achieve your aims, whatever those are.” He turned away.

So, the Madras was a religious school, and Ruhger and Saree were there for a reason, not just a random visit. And that reason got the school attacked? Q bit her lip. She had to figure out why people wanted them.

“Do you know Al-Kindi or his wife Nari and how they fare?” Saree asked.

His robes flew wide as he spun back. “I don’t know them, but if they are in Circinus, they should be fine, barring normal accidents. Do not return to Circinus.” He scowled at Saree, then Ruhger. “Do not return here.” His tone was menacing. What happened to peace? The man turned, his robes billowing, and strode across the restaurant, ignoring everyone and poking at his e-torc, the motions short and sharp.

Ruhger looked at his e-torc, sweeping something away, then at Saree. “I suggest we go.”

She nodded, looking sad. “Yes. I suppose there is nothing more we can do or say.”

“But I wanted dessert.” Q wanted to try that flaky pastry thing she’d seen everyone else eating. It looked so good.

“We’ll get something on the way,” Saree said, standing up.

“But—” Really?

Ruhger stood and slashed a hand. “Not now, Clove, let’s go.”

Q scowled at both of them, then got up. “Fine.” Figured. The one time they got to eat something good, they didn’t get to finish. Was Saree some sort of criminal? Did she have some sort of huge bribery thing on General Kerr? Q knew Lightwave had a mixed reputation, but Saree was something different, something worse, but not worse. It was weird. Not knowing sucked like the big black hole of Andromeda. Outside, Q waited for them. They were slow too. “People don’t like you very much, do they?”

Saree laughed. “No, they don’t.”

Ruhger said, “Actually, they like her just fine. Everyone wants her. Me?” He jabbed a thumb toward his chest. “Not so much.”

Q laughed. “That I can believe. You’re grumpy.” But why did everyone want Saree?

“Thank you,” Ruhger replied, with a short bow.

He was proud of it? These two were strange.

Saree laughed. “I don’t think it’s a compliment, Ep.”

“I suppose not. There’s a freezee shop over there.” Ruhger tossed his chin to point it out. “How about that?”

Q turned to look. He was right. Well, it wasn’t pastry, but at least it would be sweet. “Sure.” Better than nothing. Once she got to the stand, she glanced back. Ruhger and Saree were talking quietly, somehow intensely focused on each other but also aware of their surroundings. That was a skill she needed to develop, even if she didn’t have someone special to share it with. Until she learned, she was grateful to have Saree and Ruhger backing her up, no matter how annoying it might be sometimes.

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Quinn of Cygnus Copyright © 2020 by AM Scott. All Rights Reserved.

Quinn of Cygnus: Lift Off–Chapter Thirteen

This is a somewhat revised draft, so there are some inconsistencies with previous chapters. For example, I’ve renamed the “extreme fitness challenge” to the “Atlas Challenge” and other such stuff. The main story hasn’t changed, and there are still some awkward phrases, typos, and some fine details missing. I’ll also be adding additional background for people who haven’t read the Folding Space Series.  I’ll publish a new chapter every week. Enjoy!

Warning: To avoid having issues with book retailers when I publish, I will be deleting Chapters One through Eighteen the week before I post the last chapter, which is Chapter Twenty. You have been warned! Read fast!

See Chapter One here.

Chapter Thirteen

Q hauled another bag of trash into the cargo bay, gagging at the stench again. She should be used to it, but no. She tossed it up on the growing pile, watching as it teetered, then stayed. Whew. If it tumbled down, it might have broken and made everything worse. Although, that didn’t really seem possible—she was so tired of cleaning. Saree was kind of a taskmaster. But she was right—the shuttle smelled a lot better without all the garbage.

She rolled her eyes at Bonnet’s continuing threats and gratefully closed the airlock hatch behind her, opening the next and trotting to the sani-mod—she wanted to wash her hands in the worst way. “Are we done yet?” Q asked Saree, hating her whining tone but too tired to try and fix it.

“Yes, we’re done,” Saree said with a tired sigh.

“Thank the Mother.” She washed her hands and plopped down in one of the seats. Q checked her alerts—the Valenti net techs found another of her nuisance attacks and shut it down. The time lag had grown to the point where there was little she could do anyway. All she could do was check her few remaining alerts for news of them, and even that was old news by now. Q rubbed her eyes, trying to stay alert.

“Any sign they know we’re here, Q?” Ruhger asked.

Again? She scowled at him. “For the three hundredth time, no. None that I’ve noticed or seen, but there could be notifications going out right now on systems I don’t know about or have never thought about. I don’t know what I don’t know!” Could he make her feel like more of an idiot? She wasn’t an expert; she was still a trainee! She was doing the best she could, but the time lag was making it impossible.

Ruhger sighed and held up a hand. “I’m not trying to insult you. I’m just trying to plan for the worst, assuming I know what the worst is. Which I probably don’t.”

“None of us does.” Saree was trying to play peacemaker, but her fake calm was annoying. She continued, “Look, we’re all frustrated by the lack of control and the waiting. But that’s all we can do. Q, it’s your turn to take a nap. You’re just checking things now, not actively working, so there’s no reason not to. We’ll wake you up if there’s a problem you can fix. But really, at this point, it’s up to fate or the gods or whatever you may or may not believe in.”

That actually made some sense. “Fine.” Q rolled her eyes and lowered her seat back. “But I doubt I’ll be able to.” She was so wired. But she was tired too. Exhausted. She concentrated on her breathing and shut their quiet conversations out.

“Bonnet, get back here! The bugs—you’re not Bonnet! Who in all the suns are you?”

Q blinked up at the guy yelling on the shuttle’s screen. Who was that?

“The new captain,” Ruhger said dryly. “Bonnet tried to double-cross me and now he’s a bit tied up. So… what can I help you with, Engineer Hindenburg? I am an experienced folder captain and pilot.”

Oh, yeah, the engineer on Bonnet’s crew list. He’d been crossed out, so she’d thought he was gone. Maybe it meant Bonnet wanted to get rid of him? Either way, he wasn’t a Blatto. Q’s nose scrunched.

“You… you… you!” Hindenburg stuttered.

“Use your words, Hindenburg.”

He stood up straight and glared. “Fine. If you can get me out of here alive, you can have this bucket of blast and rad.”

“What’s going on?” Ruhger asked.

“The bugs are eating everything. I can hear them chewing through the walls. Literally.” Hindenburg was practically jumping in his seat, looking totally paranoid.

But Q didn’t blame him. If the Blattos were eating the walls… Ew.

“What do they want, other than food?”

“Until they get food, that’s all they want.”

“Do you know what food they prefer?”

“I don’t think it matters, as long as it’s organic. Thank the suns they can’t eat cerimetal.” Sweat ran down Hindenburg’s face. “I think.”

“How about plain plas?” Ruhger asked calmly.

Hindenburg shot an incredulous look at him. “I said they’re eating the walls, didn’t I?”

“So you did. All right.” Ruhger nodded. “Well, we’re currently hiding in a plas transport, so we’ll see if we can’t break one free and bring it along. If we can pressurize it, the plas should lure the Blattos in, then we leave them and the transport behind. Make sense?” Ruhger shot a glance at Saree and then her.

Would that work? Q had no idea. She shrugged.

Hindenburg laughed. He sounded a little crazy. “Sure, why not only steal from Familia but also dump a load of Blattos on them? Guess it’s better than dying.”

Ruhger said, “That’s the spirit. Are the fold generators working?”

Hindenburg looked off to the side for a moment, then back. “Mostly. They’ll get us through some short folds, but they’re overdue for a major overhaul. Clocks aren’t stable.”

“Ah. Don’t worry about that; we’ve got that covered.”

We do? How? Q looked at Ruhger and Saree. They didn’t have anything but the clothes she’d printed for them on Familia’s shuttle.

“You’ve got one of those fancy portable fold clocks?” Hindenburg looked skeptical.

“Something like that.” Ruhger shrugged. “The less you know, the better for you. Anyway, if we can make you safe, will you help us fold out?”

“Did you kill Bonnet?” Hindenburg’s tone was accusatory.

“No. He’s secured with the trash.”

“He’s tricky.” Hindenburg shook his head, then pointed a finger at them. “You keep him and the Blattos away from me and keep the Blattos from eating the entire ship, and you’ve got a deal.”

Q wouldn’t trust this Hindenburg guy with an auto-bev, let alone a folder, but they were stuck with him.

Ruhger said, “Contract terms. You turn all controls, including piloting and comms, over to us upon docking and operate the folder in a safe, secure manner to a series of destinations of our choice. When we reach our final destination, we’ll leave the folder with you.”

“No dead systems! Leave me in a system where I can find a pilot, capisce?”

Uh oh. This guy is Familia! She got up and got in Ruhger’s field of view, mouthing, “No!” at him.

“Understood.” Ruhger shot a look at Q, but she couldn’t read his expression.

“Agreed.”

Ruhger said, “Agreed. We’ll be there shortly.” He looked at her. “What, Q?”

“He’s Familia!”

“Did you recognize him?”

“No.” She scowled at him. “Didn’t you recognize the term he used at the end? Capisce?”

Ruhger shrugged. “Sure; it means, ‘understand’ in Old Earth.”

Q stopped her eye roll—she needed to check the folder comms now. “Familia uses it all the time.”

“Well, it’s either make a deal with this guy or wait for Familia to find us.”

She searched for the messaging system. “That guy is probably messaging them right now!” Hah. Found it.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Q scowled at Ruhger and flicked off the transmitter. “Hah. Got ya, sand flea! Stopped him from sending by turning off all outgoing comms. Brute force approach, but he might not even notice his message didn’t get out.” She hoped it didn’t get out. What if she didn’t get it turned off in time?

“Good. We can worry about refinements later.” Ruhger nodded at Q.

He appreciated her pointing out his shortcomings? How odd.

Ruhger turned to Saree. “Now, can you break one of these transports off and set it up so we can tow it along?”

“It will be noticed, Ruhger,” Saree told him. “And it’s empty.”

Ruhger chuckled. Q stared at the unusual sound coming from the grim captain.

He continued, “Mostly empty. I’m sure there will be plenty of plas left in the cracks and crevices. More importantly, will it hold pressure, and is there enough air to fill it?”

Saree swiped through screens. “Hmm. I’ll look.”

Q volunteered, “I can break the last transport in line away and set up a link. But we’ll be seen.” A plas transport wasn’t stealthy or small.

“Ah, but it’s part of my plan.” Ruhger looked confident. But he always seemed confident. “Once the orbital controllers start yelling at me, I’ll yell back about how it’s not my fault, I didn’t do it, get it off me. We’ll keep the transport between us and the station, just in case they start shooting. This thing—” he waved a hand around “—is big.”

Well, sure, the plas transport was huge. But it was hollow, and it didn’t have anything but rudimentary asteroid shields. What kind of protection did it offer?

“Good news, Ruhger,” Saree said. “The last transport in the chain isn’t a big bulk transporter. It transports the raw materials for the food printers, so it’s a series of smaller compartments. Each one is designed to hold air for loading—they blow the food powder in, then suck all the air out, then use air to blow the powder back out again.” She looked up with a grin. “Even better, the report on this one says some of the compartments are malfunctioning—the valves are blocked. So, they’re full of food and air.”

Q took the backdoor Saree made—with Q’s worm—and found command and control. Now, which one was the food transport? Ah. Got it.

“Perfect.” Ruhger nodded. “We latch a tube to the folder’s cargo hold, lure all the Blattos out, and leave it all there. The fold to Antlia is short, so this hunk of junk should make it. We leave it and the engineer with Gov Human and get Gov Human to message Lightwave.” Ruhger paused for a moment. “And we negotiate with Gov Human for a protection fleet. It’s just not a secret anymore, Saree.”

Q looked up from her holo. What wasn’t a secret?

Surprisingly, Saree nodded grimly. “You’re right, it’s not. It’s time to stop hiding because if I do, we’ll all lose. We can’t keep hoping for ignorance; it just makes us an easier target.”

Q stared at Saree, bewildered. “Who are you?” And whether Saree had to hide or not, Q still had to. Familia wouldn’t let her go easily.

Ruhger raised a brow at her. “If you really want to know, we’ll tell you when we’re someplace safe. I don’t trust these beings. There’s probably vids all over this shuttle.”

“Good point.” Q nodded her agreement.

“And you’ll be safer not knowing, Q,” Saree said. “Truly, you don’t want this secret.”

She wasn’t sure about that. Secrets got people killed. Q told them about the stupid tattoo, didn’t she?

Ruhger frowned at her. “Unless you’re going to stay on with us. Then, you’ll have to know.”

Q grimaced. “Not sure I want to work with Katryn. She’s a stickler.” All the rules, all the time. Boring.

He huffed. “True. And you’d be working for Tyron and Katryn, not with. Tyron’s lead.”

From what she remembered, Tyron was a good guy. “He’s sexy. I could work for him.” At the look on Ruhger’s face, she snickered to herself.

Saree snorted. “And Katryn’s the jealous type. Don’t even think about it.”

Q kept her eyes from rolling—again. She was just kidding. “Fine. Ruin the fantasy. What about the other guys?” She was trying to remember the crew, but her time on Lightwave was confusing and crowded. It was a long time ago.

Saree laughed. “Chief’s too old for you and probably not interested. Grant will be interested, but not for a long-term relationship.”

Ruhger said, “Grant won’t be interested. He doesn’t mix business and pleasure. If she’s working for us, that’s what it will be, a working relationship.”

Saree considered him. “Loreli?”

Chef Loreli? What about her? Q wasn’t attracted to women, unfortunately. Life would have been easier with the Sisters if she had been. If they weren’t going to become full Sisters, a lot of the older orphans formed relationships.

Ruhger shook his head. “No. We’ve all been friends since we were born, but that’s it.”

Saree nodded. “Makes sense.”

Q told them, “You’re talking around me like some little kid!”

“No, just as beings who have known each other for a while,” Saree said. “We just met you. Be patient.”

How long had Saree flown with Lightwave? Q was sure she wasn’t onboard during the Cygnus Gliese evacuation—Saree stood out too much to miss, even in a crowd of women. Guess it didn’t matter; Q didn’t have any other choices right now. And thinking about choices, she’d better get back to the plas train. She found the correct area of command and control, the release commands for the individual plas pods, and the last one in the line. She looked deeper to be sure. Yes, the last one was a bulk food transport. Then, she got ready to open the hatch of the pod they were currently hiding the shuttle inside.

“And speaking of patient, are we ready to go?” Ruhger asked her.

Q looked up at Ruhger. “I got the transport ready to break away and follow.”

“Okay, let’s do this.” Ruhger nodded at her. “Strap in. Open the transport hatch, and we’ll fly out.”

Q plopped back into a seat and fastened her harness, finding the right control and flipping the hatch to “open,” then went back to the food transport. “Got it. Hatch is open, last transport ready to break away.”

“Good job, Q. Release it now,” Ruhger told her. “Sit back and enjoy the ride. Get a little more shuteye if you can—it’s going to be a long fold when we reach Nebula Wraith.”

Q flipped the transport release switch. “Transport free.” Nice to be appreciated rather than yelled at for not being better or reading a tech’s mind. Q snuggled back into the now-clean chair and closed her eyes. Maybe she could sleep all the way to the folder, maybe all the way out of Valenti. Wouldn’t that be nice?

It would never happen. Still, she was tired. Q dropped into meditation and hoped for sleep to follow.

#

Did Ruhger really think this would work? Q considered him. Maybe he was too tired to think.

“Okay, Q. Send the message,” Ruhger told her.

“Here goes nothing.” She poked at the translated message, sending it over the speakers of the folder, and shuddered at the weird noises. Yuck. Her view of Cargo Bay One was terrifying, and the rest of the folder worse; the interior was stripped down to the cerimetal. Only the water storage pods in the bulkheads were left.

Meter-long bugs scuttled in on all six legs. Ew. Q shivered and activated the voice distorter for Ruhger.

The first bug stopped before entering the flex tube. “You promised there is air, safety, and food and to take us far from Familia.”

Ruhger said, “There is. I promise.”

The bug stood up and stared at the vid. Q shoved back into her seat and turned the folder’s sound back up. She wanted to check the voice distorter. Although, if it didn’t work, it was too late now.

“If you have betrayed us, our tribe will hunt you down and eat you. It has happened.”

So, the game vids were right! She knew it.

Ruhger said, in a very calm voice, “There is air and food on the transport. Someone will pick it up. I cannot promise what will happen after that. You can go there or starve here.”

All the Blattos hissed. Q shuddered and tried to burrow into her seat.

“We go. You are not a friend of Blatto, Captain Ruhger. Do not look for help from us.”

“Understood.” Ruhger swept off the comms. “How did he know my name?”

Good question. The voice distorter worked. She’d listened. Q shrugged and shook her head.

The Blattos disappeared into the tube. Less than a minute later, the tube disconnected. Thank the Mother they were gone.

Ruhger closed the cargo bay hatch and did something to the fold equations. Adjusting for the plas transport? He said, “Hindenburg, ready for fold?”

The engineer didn’t reply. Q checked the comms—they were all working correctly. Well, marginally, just like everything else on this folder.

“Q, pull up the vid outside engineering.” Ruhger’s tone bothered Q, but she did what he asked.

The hatch to engineering stood wide open. Uh oh. Q had a bad feeling about this.

Saree asked, “Q, can you find Hindenburg?” She started swiping through views on the big shuttle screen, bringing up Engineering.

Q pulled up vids of the crew cabins. There was nothing but cerimetal struts.

Saree took in a sharp breath, and Q looked up to see the view of Engineering zoom in on a pair of boot soles. By the Mother! They ate Hindenburg! Q put a hand over her churning stomach and swallowed hard. Nope. Not working. She was going to be sick. She sprinted to the sani-mod, dropped to her knees, and lost her dinner. The toilet cycled twice. She sat back on her haunches, pretty sure there was nothing left. Thank the Mother they’d cleaned this floor earlier. Q wrapped her arms around her middle.

Ruhger’s voice was barely audible. “…any sign of sabotage, but… it’s fold out or end up back in the hands of Familia.”

“Fold. Fold now. I want off this ship!” came from Saree.

“Fold now!” Q yelled at him. Two to one, they had to try. She wasn’t going back.

“Strap in, Q. Then, we’ll fold,” Ruhger called.

Q jumped to her feet and ran to her seat. No more thinking about—that. She shuddered.

“Fold in five, four, three, two, fold.”

Saree brought up navigation. “Antlia,” she said with a big sigh. “Contacting Laniakea Fleet for instructions on the Blattos and,” Saree paused and glanced back at Q, “further discussions.”

Great, more secrets.

“Might take a while to get the right person since we’re not sending from Lightwave or our personal e-torcs.” Saree snorted. “Guess I should have memorized a few addresses rather than relying on my e-torc.” Saree composed a message and sent it.

Ruhger said, “Thrust in five, four, three, two, thrust. At least the Blattos didn’t eat the fuel.”

“Could they?” Saree grimaced.

Ew.

“I doubt it, but it is organic, so…”

“Can we stop talking about them?” Q asked, aware she sounded like a whiny little girl, but she really couldn’t take any more.

“Sure. Sorry,” Ruhger said, with a one-shoulder shrug. “I should remember that not everyone has grown up in a military-type environment.”

Really? Q scowled. “The Sisters are close.”

Ruhger laughed. Saree smiled at her. “In some ways, sure. With large numbers of children, discipline is critical to survival. When did you leave Cygnus Secundus?”

Guess they had the time to tell stories now.

“About two standard years ago. They sent me off to a new net school for ‘advanced students,’ thinking I’d be the next Katryn.” Q wrinkled her nose. “Only more grateful. Unfortunately, it was really a feeder for Familia techs. The first year at school…” She slowed. She’d told them she was a year older than she actually was, so she’d add a year to her schooling. “…was great.” Q held back her grimace. “I learned a ton and had a good time.” At least in comparison to Indomito. “The second year, things changed. They told me the Sisters had failed to pay the tuition, and therefore, I owed them three years of service. When I objected and showed them the proof of payment for a year in advance, they said that was for tuition, not room and board and all the fun stuff we’d done. I objected again, telling them I wouldn’t have done all that fun stuff if they’d told me it was extra, and they said it was my fault for not reading the terms and conditions.” She scowled. “Which is a bunch of sand scooter scat because I read every document. They changed the rules halfway through the year and didn’t tell any of us.”

“Classic Familia,” Ruhger muttered.

“They wouldn’t let me message the Sisters, and I know the Sisters’ messages weren’t reaching me. Sister Ani knows there’s something wrong because we had code words and phrases set with a schedule of messages, but I doubt she’s got the time or credits to come look for me. It’s more a warning not to send anyone else.” They had to notice the lack of messages. Or, if the school was faking messages, the lack of code words. “Hopefully, they know what to look for when a new school pops up.”

“You can message them now, Q,” Saree said. “We’ve got the time, and there’s a few credits attached to this folder, so you may as well use them.”

“You don’t need them?” She’d rather not access her accounts yet. Not on this e-torc. She needed some decent net security.

Saree smiled at Q. “No. We shouldn’t, anyway. The Fleet will come pick us up.”

Why would Gov Human military care about Ruhger and Saree? They didn’t care about the entire world of Cygnus Gliese, so why these two people? The only time she’d heard of the Fleet rescuing people was something big, like a sun going supernova or a passenger ship getting attacked by pirates. Or maybe something with rich people on the core worlds. Ruhger and Saree weren’t wealthy people pretending to be poor—Q knew what powerful people were like now. “Who are you?”

Saree looked at Ruhger, and they both laughed. She said, “Nobody. Just a small folder who’s done some favors for Gov Human.”

Right. “Uh-huh. Sure. Fine, don’t tell me.” Thinking about it, she was pretty sure Gov Human didn’t care about Lightwave either. There was something else going on here.

“Message the Sisters, Q, and say hello for us, please,” Ruhger said.

Q frowned at both of them. “Sure.” She’d do it from the bunk room. If they talked about it, then she could listen in.

“Teenagers,” Ruhger huffed behind her.

Saree chuckled. “I guess it’s good practice for me. I’ll need to raise some someday.”

Well, she didn’t need to hear any of that. Q closed the hatch behind her and brought up the shuttle’s message interface. Their code words didn’t really fit this situation, but she didn’t want to put her name in this message, either, because Familia would look for her with the Sisters. Text only was the cheapest and best in this situation. Now, what would a small, decrepit folder like this one want with the Sisters that wouldn’t get the message deleted immediately?

An emergency message alert tolled loudly, and a red light flashed. By the Mother, what was that? Q brought up the emergency alert. Oh, fold orbit assignment. That warranted a “we’re all gonna die” alerter? Yikes. She left the bunk room.

Ruhger said, “Okay, good. Foxtrot is easy enough to reach.” Ruhger brought up navigation on the main shuttle screen. “Tell Q, will you?”

“Tell me what?” Q asked them.

“We’re changing orbits, so sit down,” Ruhger said. “You know how bad the grav generators are on this thing.”

They were terrible. She plopped down. “Where are we going?” She didn’t need to tell them she already knew.

“Fold Hold Foxtrot. Gov Human’s sending a shuttle to pick us up,” Saree told her.

Q hadn’t seen the message about the shuttle. Did it go straight to Saree somehow? “Wow, that was fast.”

“It was.” Saree smiled. “About time something went our way on this trip.”

Ruhger muttered, “Oh, I can think of at least one thing that went our way.”

Saree laughed.

Q hoped they were referencing her, but they probably weren’t. Typical. Why praise the woman who saved you from Familia over and over? It just wasn’t right. But she was just a kid, so they’d continue to cut her out, keep her in the dark. Q smiled. Well, they could try.

#

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Quinn of Cygnus Copyright © 2020 by AM Scott. All Rights Reserved.

Quinn of Cygnus:Lift Off–Chapter Thirteen

This is a somewhat revised draft, so there are some inconsistencies with previous chapters. For example, I’ve renamed the “extreme fitness challenge” to the “Atlas Challenge” and other such stuff. The main story hasn’t changed, and there are still some awkward phrases, typos, and some fine details missing. I’ll also be adding additional background for people who haven’t read the Folding Space Series.  I’ll publish a new chapter every week. Enjoy!

See Chapter One here.

Chapter Thirteen

Q hauled another bag of trash into the cargo bay, gagging at the stench again. She should be used to it, but no. She tossed it up on the growing pile, watching as it teetered, then stayed. Whew. If it tumbled down, it might have broken and made everything worse. Although, that didn’t really seem possible—she was so tired of cleaning. Saree was kind of a taskmaster. But she was right—the shuttle smelled a lot better without all the garbage.

She rolled her eyes at Bonnet’s continuing threats and gratefully closed the airlock hatch behind her, opening the next and trotting to the sani-mod—she wanted to wash her hands in the worst way. “Are we done yet?” Q asked Saree, hating her whining tone but too tired to try and fix it.

“Yes, we’re done,” Saree said with a tired sigh.

“Thank the Mother.” She washed her hands and plopped down in one of the seats. Q checked her alerts—the Valenti net techs found another of her nuisance attacks and shut it down. The time lag had grown to the point where there was little she could do anyway. All she could do was check her few remaining alerts for news of them, and even that was old news by now. Q rubbed her eyes, trying to stay alert.

“Any sign they know we’re here, Q?” Ruhger asked.

Again? She scowled at him. “For the three hundredth time, no. None that I’ve noticed or seen, but there could be notifications going out right now on systems I don’t know about or have never thought about. I don’t know what I don’t know!” Could he make her feel like more of an idiot? She wasn’t an expert; she was still a trainee! She was doing the best she could, but the time lag was making it impossible.

Ruhger sighed and held up a hand. “I’m not trying to insult you. I’m just trying to plan for the worst, assuming I know what the worst is. Which I probably don’t.”

“None of us does.” Saree was trying to play peacemaker, but her fake calm was annoying. She continued, “Look, we’re all frustrated by the lack of control and the waiting. But that’s all we can do. Q, it’s your turn to take a nap. You’re just checking things now, not actively working, so there’s no reason not to. We’ll wake you up if there’s a problem you can fix. But really, at this point, it’s up to fate or the gods or whatever you may or may not believe in.”

That actually made some sense. “Fine.” Q rolled her eyes and lowered her seat back. “But I doubt I’ll be able to.” She was so wired. But she was tired too. Exhausted. She concentrated on her breathing and shut their quiet conversations out.

“Bonnet, get back here! The bugs—you’re not Bonnet! Who in all the suns are you?”

Q blinked up at the guy yelling on the shuttle’s screen. Who was that?

“The new captain,” Ruhger said dryly. “Bonnet tried to double-cross me and now he’s a bit tied up. So… what can I help you with, Engineer Hindenburg? I am an experienced folder captain and pilot.”

Oh, yeah, the engineer on Bonnet’s crew list. He’d been crossed out, so she’d thought he was gone. Maybe it meant Bonnet wanted to get rid of him? Either way, he wasn’t a Blatto. Q’s nose scrunched.

“You… you… you!” Hindenburg stuttered.

“Use your words, Hindenburg.”

He stood up straight and glared. “Fine. If you can get me out of here alive, you can have this bucket of blast and rad.”

“What’s going on?” Ruhger asked.

“The bugs are eating everything. I can hear them chewing through the walls. Literally.” Hindenburg was practically jumping in his seat, looking totally paranoid.

But Q didn’t blame him. If the Blattos were eating the walls… Ew.

“What do they want, other than food?”

“Until they get food, that’s all they want.”

“Do you know what food they prefer?”

“I don’t think it matters, as long as it’s organic. Thank the suns they can’t eat cerimetal.” Sweat ran down Hindenburg’s face. “I think.”

“How about plain plas?” Ruhger asked calmly.

Hindenburg shot an incredulous look at him. “I said they’re eating the walls, didn’t I?”

“So you did. All right.” Ruhger nodded. “Well, we’re currently hiding in a plas transport, so we’ll see if we can’t break one free and bring it along. If we can pressurize it, the plas should lure the Blattos in, then we leave them and the transport behind. Make sense?” Ruhger shot a glance at Saree and then her.

Would that work? Q had no idea. She shrugged.

Hindenburg laughed. He sounded a little crazy. “Sure, why not only steal from Familia but also dump a load of Blattos on them? Guess it’s better than dying.”

Ruhger said, “That’s the spirit. Are the fold generators working?”

Hindenburg looked off to the side for a moment, then back. “Mostly. They’ll get us through some short folds, but they’re overdue for a major overhaul. Clocks aren’t stable.”

“Ah. Don’t worry about that; we’ve got that covered.”

We do? How? Q looked at Ruhger and Saree. They didn’t have anything but the clothes she’d printed for them on Familia’s shuttle.

“You’ve got one of those fancy portable fold clocks?” Hindenburg looked skeptical.

“Something like that.” Ruhger shrugged. “The less you know, the better for you. Anyway, if we can make you safe, will you help us fold out?”

“Did you kill Bonnet?” Hindenburg’s tone was accusatory.

“No. He’s secured with the trash.”

“He’s tricky.” Hindenburg shook his head, then pointed a finger at them. “You keep him and the Blattos away from me and keep the Blattos from eating the entire ship, and you’ve got a deal.”

Q wouldn’t trust this Hindenburg guy with an auto-bev, let alone a folder, but they were stuck with him.

Ruhger said, “Contract terms. You turn all controls, including piloting and comms, over to us upon docking and operate the folder in a safe, secure manner to a series of destinations of our choice. When we reach our final destination, we’ll leave the folder with you.”

“No dead systems! Leave me in a system where I can find a pilot, capisce?”

Uh oh. This guy is Familia! She got up and got in Ruhger’s field of view, mouthing, “No!” at him.

“Understood.” Ruhger shot a look at Q, but she couldn’t read his expression.

“Agreed.”

Ruhger said, “Agreed. We’ll be there shortly.” He looked at her. “What, Q?”

“He’s Familia!”

“Did you recognize him?”

“No.” She scowled at him. “Didn’t you recognize the term he used at the end? Capisce?”

Ruhger shrugged. “Sure; it means, ‘understand’ in Old Earth.”

Q stopped her eye roll—she needed to check the folder comms now. “Familia uses it all the time.”

“Well, it’s either make a deal with this guy or wait for Familia to find us.”

She searched for the messaging system. “That guy is probably messaging them right now!” Hah. Found it.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Q scowled at Ruhger and flicked off the transmitter. “Hah. Got ya, sand flea! Stopped him from sending by turning off all outgoing comms. Brute force approach, but he might not even notice his message didn’t get out.” She hoped it didn’t get out. What if she didn’t get it turned off in time?

“Good. We can worry about refinements later.” Ruhger nodded at Q.

He appreciated her pointing out his shortcomings? How odd.

Ruhger turned to Saree. “Now, can you break one of these transports off and set it up so we can tow it along?”

“It will be noticed, Ruhger,” Saree told him. “And it’s empty.”

Ruhger chuckled. Q stared at the unusual sound coming from the grim captain.

He continued, “Mostly empty. I’m sure there will be plenty of plas left in the cracks and crevices. More importantly, will it hold pressure, and is there enough air to fill it?”

Saree swiped through screens. “Hmm. I’ll look.”

Q volunteered, “I can break the last transport in line away and set up a link. But we’ll be seen.” A plas transport wasn’t stealthy or small.

“Ah, but it’s part of my plan.” Ruhger looked confident. But he always seemed confident. “Once the orbital controllers start yelling at me, I’ll yell back about how it’s not my fault, I didn’t do it, get it off me. We’ll keep the transport between us and the station, just in case they start shooting. This thing—” he waved a hand around “—is big.”

Well, sure, the plas transport was huge. But it was hollow, and it didn’t have anything but rudimentary asteroid shields. What kind of protection did it offer?

“Good news, Ruhger,” Saree said. “The last transport in the chain isn’t a big bulk transporter. It transports the raw materials for the food printers, so it’s a series of smaller compartments. Each one is designed to hold air for loading—they blow the food powder in, then suck all the air out, then use air to blow the powder back out again.” She looked up with a grin. “Even better, the report on this one says some of the compartments are malfunctioning—the valves are blocked. So, they’re full of food and air.”

Q took the backdoor Saree made—with Q’s worm—and found command and control. Now, which one was the food transport? Ah. Got it.

“Perfect.” Ruhger nodded. “We latch a tube to the folder’s cargo hold, lure all the Blattos out, and leave it all there. The fold to Antlia is short, so this hunk of junk should make it. We leave it and the engineer with Gov Human and get Gov Human to message Lightwave.” Ruhger paused for a moment. “And we negotiate with Gov Human for a protection fleet. It’s just not a secret anymore, Saree.”

Q looked up from her holo. What wasn’t a secret?

Surprisingly, Saree nodded grimly. “You’re right, it’s not. It’s time to stop hiding because if I do, we’ll all lose. We can’t keep hoping for ignorance; it just makes us an easier target.”

Q stared at Saree, bewildered. “Who are you?” And whether Saree had to hide or not, Q still had to. Familia wouldn’t let her go easily.

Ruhger raised a brow at her. “If you really want to know, we’ll tell you when we’re someplace safe. I don’t trust these beings. There’s probably vids all over this shuttle.”

“Good point.” Q nodded her agreement.

“And you’ll be safer not knowing, Q,” Saree said. “Truly, you don’t want this secret.”

She wasn’t sure about that. Secrets got people killed. Q told them about the stupid tattoo, didn’t she?

Ruhger frowned at her. “Unless you’re going to stay on with us. Then, you’ll have to know.”

Q grimaced. “Not sure I want to work with Katryn. She’s a stickler.” All the rules, all the time. Boring.

He huffed. “True. And you’d be working for Tyron and Katryn, not with. Tyron’s lead.”

From what she remembered, Tyron was a good guy. “He’s sexy. I could work for him.” At the look on Ruhger’s face, she snickered to herself.

Saree snorted. “And Katryn’s the jealous type. Don’t even think about it.”

Q kept her eyes from rolling—again. She was just kidding. “Fine. Ruin the fantasy. What about the other guys?” She was trying to remember the crew, but her time on Lightwave was confusing and crowded. It was a long time ago.

Saree laughed. “Chief’s too old for you and probably not interested. Grant will be interested, but not for a long-term relationship.”

Ruhger said, “Grant won’t be interested. He doesn’t mix business and pleasure. If she’s working for us, that’s what it will be, a working relationship.”

Saree considered him. “Loreli?”

Chef Loreli? What about her? Q wasn’t attracted to women, unfortunately. Life would have been easier with the Sisters if she had been. If they weren’t going to become full Sisters, a lot of the older orphans formed relationships.

Ruhger shook his head. “No. We’ve all been friends since we were born, but that’s it.”

Saree nodded. “Makes sense.”

Q told them, “You’re talking around me like some little kid!”

“No, just as beings who have known each other for a while,” Saree said. “We just met you. Be patient.”

How long had Saree flown with Lightwave? Q was sure she wasn’t onboard during the Cygnus Gliese evacuation—Saree stood out too much to miss, even in a crowd of women. Guess it didn’t matter; Q didn’t have any other choices right now. And thinking about choices, she’d better get back to the plas train. She found the correct area of command and control, the release commands for the individual plas pods, and the last one in the line. She looked deeper to be sure. Yes, the last one was a bulk food transport. Then, she got ready to open the hatch of the pod they were currently hiding the shuttle inside.

“And speaking of patient, are we ready to go?” Ruhger asked her.

Q looked up at Ruhger. “I got the transport ready to break away and follow.”

“Okay, let’s do this.” Ruhger nodded at her. “Strap in. Open the transport hatch, and we’ll fly out.”

Q plopped back into a seat and fastened her harness, finding the right control and flipping the hatch to “open,” then went back to the food transport. “Got it. Hatch is open, last transport ready to break away.”

“Good job, Q. Release it now,” Ruhger told her. “Sit back and enjoy the ride. Get a little more shuteye if you can—it’s going to be a long fold when we reach Nebula Wraith.”

Q flipped the transport release switch. “Transport free.” Nice to be appreciated rather than yelled at for not being better or reading a tech’s mind. Q snuggled back into the now-clean chair and closed her eyes. Maybe she could sleep all the way to the folder, maybe all the way out of Valenti. Wouldn’t that be nice?

It would never happen. Still, she was tired. Q dropped into meditation and hoped for sleep to follow.

#

Did Ruhger really think this would work? Q considered him. Maybe he was too tired to think.

“Okay, Q. Send the message,” Ruhger told her.

“Here goes nothing.” She poked at the translated message, sending it over the speakers of the folder, and shuddered at the weird noises. Yuck. Her view of Cargo Bay One was terrifying, and the rest of the folder worse; the interior was stripped down to the cerimetal. Only the water storage pods in the bulkheads were left.

Meter-long bugs scuttled in on all six legs. Ew. Q shivered and activated the voice distorter for Ruhger.

The first bug stopped before entering the flex tube. “You promised there is air, safety, and food and to take us far from Familia.”

Ruhger said, “There is. I promise.”

The bug stood up and stared at the vid. Q shoved back into her seat and turned the folder’s sound back up. She wanted to check the voice distorter. Although, if it didn’t work, it was too late now.

“If you have betrayed us, our tribe will hunt you down and eat you. It has happened.”

So, the game vids were right! She knew it.

Ruhger said, in a very calm voice, “There is air and food on the transport. Someone will pick it up. I cannot promise what will happen after that. You can go there or starve here.”

All the Blattos hissed. Q shuddered and tried to burrow into her seat.

“We go. You are not a friend of Blatto, Captain Ruhger. Do not look for help from us.”

“Understood.” Ruhger swept off the comms. “How did he know my name?”

Good question. The voice distorter worked. She’d listened. Q shrugged and shook her head.

The Blattos disappeared into the tube. Less than a minute later, the tube disconnected. Thank the Mother they were gone.

Ruhger closed the cargo bay hatch and did something to the fold equations. Adjusting for the plas transport? He said, “Hindenburg, ready for fold?”

The engineer didn’t reply. Q checked the comms—they were all working correctly. Well, marginally, just like everything else on this folder.

“Q, pull up the vid outside engineering.” Ruhger’s tone bothered Q, but she did what he asked.

The hatch to engineering stood wide open. Uh oh. Q had a bad feeling about this.

Saree asked, “Q, can you find Hindenburg?” She started swiping through views on the big shuttle screen, bringing up Engineering.

Q pulled up vids of the crew cabins. There was nothing but cerimetal struts.

Saree took in a sharp breath, and Q looked up to see the view of Engineering zoom in on a pair of boot soles. By the Mother! They ate Hindenburg! Q put a hand over her churning stomach and swallowed hard. Nope. Not working. She was going to be sick. She sprinted to the sani-mod, dropped to her knees, and lost her dinner. The toilet cycled twice. She sat back on her haunches, pretty sure there was nothing left. Thank the Mother they’d cleaned this floor earlier. Q wrapped her arms around her middle.

Ruhger’s voice was barely audible. “…any sign of sabotage, but… it’s fold out or end up back in the hands of Familia.”

“Fold. Fold now. I want off this ship!” came from Saree.

“Fold now!” Q yelled at him. Two to one, they had to try. She wasn’t going back.

“Strap in, Q. Then, we’ll fold,” Ruhger called.

Q jumped to her feet and ran to her seat. No more thinking about—that. She shuddered.

“Fold in five, four, three, two, fold.”

Saree brought up navigation. “Antlia,” she said with a big sigh. “Contacting Laniakea Fleet for instructions on the Blattos and,” Saree paused and glanced back at Q, “further discussions.”

Great, more secrets.

“Might take a while to get the right person since we’re not sending from Lightwave or our personal e-torcs.” Saree snorted. “Guess I should have memorized a few addresses rather than relying on my e-torc.” Saree composed a message and sent it.

Ruhger said, “Thrust in five, four, three, two, thrust. At least the Blattos didn’t eat the fuel.”

“Could they?” Saree grimaced.

Ew.

“I doubt it, but it is organic, so…”

“Can we stop talking about them?” Q asked, aware she sounded like a whiny little girl, but she really couldn’t take any more.

“Sure. Sorry,” Ruhger said, with a one-shoulder shrug. “I should remember that not everyone has grown up in a military-type environment.”

Really? Q scowled. “The Sisters are close.”

Ruhger laughed. Saree smiled at her. “In some ways, sure. With large numbers of children, discipline is critical to survival. When did you leave Cygnus Secundus?”

Guess they had the time to tell stories now.

“About two standard years ago. They sent me off to a new net school for ‘advanced students,’ thinking I’d be the next Katryn.” Q wrinkled her nose. “Only more grateful. Unfortunately, it was really a feeder for Familia techs. The first year at school…” She slowed. She’d told them she was a year older than she actually was, so she’d add a year to her schooling. “…was great.” Q held back her grimace. “I learned a ton and had a good time.” At least in comparison to Indomito. “The second year, things changed. They told me the Sisters had failed to pay the tuition, and therefore, I owed them three years of service. When I objected and showed them the proof of payment for a year in advance, they said that was for tuition, not room and board and all the fun stuff we’d done. I objected again, telling them I wouldn’t have done all that fun stuff if they’d told me it was extra, and they said it was my fault for not reading the terms and conditions.” She scowled. “Which is a bunch of sand scooter scat because I read every document. They changed the rules halfway through the year and didn’t tell any of us.”

“Classic Familia,” Ruhger muttered.

“They wouldn’t let me message the Sisters, and I know the Sisters’ messages weren’t reaching me. Sister Ani knows there’s something wrong because we had code words and phrases set with a schedule of messages, but I doubt she’s got the time or credits to come look for me. It’s more a warning not to send anyone else.” They had to notice the lack of messages. Or, if the school was faking messages, the lack of code words. “Hopefully, they know what to look for when a new school pops up.”

“You can message them now, Q,” Saree said. “We’ve got the time, and there’s a few credits attached to this folder, so you may as well use them.”

“You don’t need them?” She’d rather not access her accounts yet. Not on this e-torc. She needed some decent net security.

Saree smiled at Q. “No. We shouldn’t, anyway. The Fleet will come pick us up.”

Why would Gov Human military care about Ruhger and Saree? They didn’t care about the entire world of Cygnus Gliese, so why these two people? The only time she’d heard of the Fleet rescuing people was something big, like a sun going supernova or a passenger ship getting attacked by pirates. Or maybe something with rich people on the core worlds. Ruhger and Saree weren’t wealthy people pretending to be poor—Q knew what powerful people were like now. “Who are you?”

Saree looked at Ruhger, and they both laughed. She said, “Nobody. Just a small folder who’s done some favors for Gov Human.”

Right. “Uh-huh. Sure. Fine, don’t tell me.” Thinking about it, she was pretty sure Gov Human didn’t care about Lightwave either. There was something else going on here.

“Message the Sisters, Q, and say hello for us, please,” Ruhger said.

Q frowned at both of them. “Sure.” She’d do it from the bunk room. If they talked about it, then she could listen in.

“Teenagers,” Ruhger huffed behind her.

Saree chuckled. “I guess it’s good practice for me. I’ll need to raise some someday.”

Well, she didn’t need to hear any of that. Q closed the hatch behind her and brought up the shuttle’s message interface. Their code words didn’t really fit this situation, but she didn’t want to put her name in this message, either, because Familia would look for her with the Sisters. Text only was the cheapest and best in this situation. Now, what would a small, decrepit folder like this one want with the Sisters that wouldn’t get the message deleted immediately?

An emergency message alert tolled loudly, and a red light flashed. By the Mother, what was that? Q brought up the emergency alert. Oh, fold orbit assignment. That warranted a “we’re all gonna die” alerter? Yikes. She left the bunk room.

Ruhger said, “Okay, good. Foxtrot is easy enough to reach.” Ruhger brought up navigation on the main shuttle screen. “Tell Q, will you?”

“Tell me what?” Q asked them.

“We’re changing orbits, so sit down,” Ruhger said. “You know how bad the grav generators are on this thing.”

They were terrible. She plopped down. “Where are we going?” She didn’t need to tell them she already knew.

“Fold Hold Foxtrot. Gov Human’s sending a shuttle to pick us up,” Saree told her.

Q hadn’t seen the message about the shuttle. Did it go straight to Saree somehow? “Wow, that was fast.”

“It was.” Saree smiled. “About time something went our way on this trip.”

Ruhger muttered, “Oh, I can think of at least one thing that went our way.”

Saree laughed.

Q hoped they were referencing her, but they probably weren’t. Typical. Why praise the woman who saved you from Familia over and over? It just wasn’t right. But she was just a kid, so they’d continue to cut her out, keep her in the dark. Q smiled. Well, they could try.

#

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Quinn of Cygnus Copyright © 2020 by AM Scott. All Rights Reserved.

Quinn of Cygnus: Lift Off–Chapter Twelve

This is a somewhat revised draft, so there are some inconsistencies with previous chapters. For example, I’ve renamed the “extreme fitness challenge” to the “Atlas Challenge” and other such stuff. The main story hasn’t changed, and there are still some awkward phrases, typos, and some fine details missing. I’ll also be adding additional background for people who haven’t read the Folding Space Series.  This chapter contains spoilers for Lightwave: Command Decision.

I’ll publish a new chapter every week. Enjoy!

See Chapter One here.

Chapter Twelve

 

Ruhger shook Saree’s shoulder and she blinked up at him. “You okay?” Ruhger asked.

Saree rasped, “Maybe. Need the sani-mod.”

Ruhger said, “Okay. Q can help you.” He unstrapped the belts and raised the seat.

Q forced a smile. Saree was going to slow them down. “Yeppers. Helpful, that’s me.” She sounded like little-girl Quinn again. But she was so happy to have someone who wanted to help her and it wasn’t a bad thing to be underestimated.

Saree smiled a little. “Thank you. I feel pretty shaky.” She rose slowly, keeping her hands on the armrest.

“How’s your head?” Ruhger asked.

“Okay.” Saree wrinkled her nose. “It’s kind of achy, but not horrible.”

“Good. Drink some water while you’re in there. You’ve got time for a shower too if you want. Q printed a shipsuit that ought to fit you and a hat to cover your hair.” Ruhger nodded and returned to the pilot’s seat.

“Great.” Saree stood.

She looked pretty shaky, so Q stepped up next to her. If Saree fell, it would take her longer to recover and make their escape harder. Saree shuffled to the sani-mod, but her stride steadied and lengthen as she walked. At the hatch, she turned to Q. “I think I’m okay.”

Q nodded at her and trotted back to sit next to Ruhger. If Saree felt steady enough, she didn’t want to hang out in the sani-mod with her.  Besides, she had work to do while she had Kathe’s e-torc. She started moving credits, creating new numbered accounts at a couple of different institutions, including one that wasn’t Familia. It was riskier but she had nothing to lose. Go big or get captured.

When she finished, she realized more than a few minutes had passed. Q jogged back to the sani-mod, ready to break in if necessary, but Saree exited, her hair partially dark brown and raggedly chopped off. It looked terrible. “Girl, what did you do?! There’s a Style Three Thousand in there—let’s go.” Q grabbed her arm and pulled Saree back into the sani-mod. What cut would look good on her? Q activated the Styler and swung Saree around to sit on it. “Take the top part of your shipsuit off.”

Saree did as Q demanded, chuckling a little.

Q grimaced. “How long do you want it?” Maybe just a medium-length, straight blunt cut, nothing fancy or fussy. Saree’s body was flashy enough; she must get lots of unwanted attention.

Saree shrugged. “Middle of my shoulder blades, I guess.”

Q programed the styler and told Saree, “Sit still.” The styler got to work, combing and cutting Saree’s hair. Since she’d already colored most of it, it didn’t take long. Q had the styler do an updo, changing Saree’s look further.

Saree stood up and stared at the styler for a long time. “First time I’ve seen that.”

“Really? Huh. I thought everyone had those.” Sure, the Sisters didn’t, but they had them at Adzari Academy, she’d seen them at stations and spaceports, everywhere. Well, except Indomito stayed in the core mostly, and if she remembered correctly, Lightwave flew the fringes of the known universe.

“Seems easier than finding someone.”

“Oh, yeah. Much. Unless you want something really special.” Q checked both sides of Saree’s hair. “Looks like the color covers all of it. Good. I’ll throw some makeup on you and no one will recognize you.” At least she hoped so. Q turned to the Beauty-in-a-Box.

“Maybe not so dark?”

Q laughed. “What? You don’t like Old Earth twenties? Me neither.” She snorted. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you something more dignified. But makeup makes a big difference in appearance. With your hair up and dark and color on your face, no human man will recognize you.” She grimaced. “Facial recog will, but not most men. Or women.” Too bad they didn’t have some of that light-scattering makeup. That would blur their appearance on most vids. But that didn’t seem to be an option in the Box. Which seemed odd; you’d think Familia Enforcers would need that stuff occasionally.

“Good point. Do your worst.” Saree’s nose wrinkled.

Q laughed and made her final choices, positioning Saree in the right spot. “You bet. Close your eyes and don’t move.” When it finished, Q closed the thing up and mirrored the surface. “Take a look.” The shuttle jolted a little—they must have docked. Now the fun part started.

Saree looked, turning her face from side to side. “Wow, Q. Nice job on the shading—my face shape even looks different.” She plopped the small brimmed hat Q printed for her on her head and pulled it down and to the side a little. “Especially with the hat.”

“Thanks.” Q remembered all the parties she’d had to attend, dressed up like a doll for Enzo. Never again. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Ready?” Ruhger called. “We should get going. Nasty boy there wouldn’t be wasting time.”

Q sighed and slid Kathe’s e-torc into the recycling. But she snickered as she left the sani-mod. Nasty boy was a great name for Epstein. “Sure. Hey, what do you think?” She swept a hand down Saree’s body.

Ruhger’s eyebrows rose and he nodded. “Great job. I wouldn’t recognize her.”

Q chuckled and handed carrysacks to Saree and Ruhger.

Ruhger nodded. “Okay, so what are we calling each other? I’ve got Epstein’s e-torc, so call me Ep.”

Not a “Q” sound, but something close… “Clove,” Q told them. “It sounds close enough to Q for me to hear it, but not close enough for others to recognize.” Q looked at Saree, who seemed to be thinking hard.

“Hmm.” Saree’s fingers tapped some sort of complex, repeating rhythm against her thighs. “I don’t want to use an old name…. How about Ferra? I’ll certainly remember it.” Saree grimaced.

Q couldn’t hold back a gasp, then she grinned. Q wouldn’t forget that name either.

Ruhger said grimly, “Good. Ferra, Clove is our daughter. We’re on our way to Nexus Station where we’re meeting our new employers, Universal Fold Incorporated. We’re changing folders here, but the next one won’t be in for a couple of days, so we’re headed to a hostel. I’ve already paid for it. Let’s go. They could discover we’re gone at any moment.”

Q followed both of them into the airlock.

Saree turned back to her. “Where are we?”

Q snort-chuckled. “Valenti Prime, the main station. Customs is here and a lot of zero-g medico research.” And a whole lot of Familia.

Saree turned back to Ruhger, her tone urgent. “Ruhger—I mean Ep—if we’re stuck here for a while, maybe I can body mod back.”

Well, that explained Saree’s figure. It wasn’t natural. Right now, she’d fit right in with the Familia Enforcers.

Ruhger shot an incredulous look at Saree. “On a Familia station?”

“Oh.” Saree snorted. “Sorry, I think I’m a little fuzzy still.”

No kidding. She clearly wasn’t thinking at all. They’d have to guide Saree or they’d get caught. Q bit her lip.

“Great,” he muttered. “Get unfuzzy, because it’s going to take all our wits to get out of here in one piece.” He nodded at them. “Ready?”

Q nodded at him and motioned to his e-torc, but he turned away before she completed the motion. Sand and sun! She had to get the e-torc before they went too far, but the hatch was open now, and she couldn’t chance making a fuss. All she could do is hope no one was actively watching the vids. They left the airlock, entering a moderately busy passageway, big hovercarts full tools, and what must be shuttle replacement pieces shoved against the bulkheads, leaving a narrow, winding path for them to walk through. Q started out trying to walk like a station worker, not paying attention to anything, but she couldn’t help but look around. She’d never been in this part of the station.

No one paid any attention to them and soon they entered the maintenance worker market. Q hadn’t been here either, but she’d heard about it. You could get food, drink, clothing, and all kinds of stuff at low prices. Low for a station anyway. She looked at the decking as much as she could and used the crowd and the sales kiosks to block her from easy view.

Ruhger wove around the kiosks, obviously familiar with avoiding vids, and they strolled to the other end of the market, entering a connector shuttle to Valenti Prime Station Central, someplace Q had been too often. They flew through space for a few minutes, docked, and exited into Prime Central’s main shopping area.

Much nicer and a lot larger, there were rows of shops and restaurants around the outside of the area and kiosks with food, drink, and all kinds of wares sprinkled across a wide plaza, the high ceilings making the area feel spacious. The walls were decorated in gold and red, the shops had formal clothing and fancy restaurants with people doing the service rather than remotes. All high-credit stuff too.

They passed the restaurant Kathe took her to with the weird food, then the one Enzo chose. That food was almost as weird, there still wasn’t much of it, and it was the most awkward eating experience of her life. Even if the food had been good, she’d been far too nervous to enjoy any of it. Enzo must not have enjoyed it either, because they never did it again. She shuddered, remembering.

While sweeping away barrages of advertisements on his e-torc, Ruhger said, “This is level forty. We’re headed down to level Twenty-One. Cheap hostels there.”

Maybe not having the e-torc was a good thing—resetting it to standard left it open to the ads. But her neck felt naked. Q followed Ruhger and Saree to a float tube and down they went.

Q kept glancing around. She recognized some of these places. As soon as she had an e-torc, she’d be back into Valenti Station Security.

The shopping on level Twenty-One was basic: food and clothing, a few gadgets and trinkets, and no fancy decorations. They stopped for a quick meal of pasta with red sauce, which wasn’t good, but it was filling. Then they entered a narrow interior station corridor. The walls were bland beige with industrial multi-hued plas decking underfoot and the occasional holo sign for guest check-in popping up as they neared each hatch.

Ruhger finally stopped in front of a holo for “Albergo Firenze” and checked them in, getting two access stickers for Saree and Q, since they didn’t have e-torcs. Q copied Saree, sticking hers to the inside of her forearm, underneath the shipsuit. Ruhger walked forward and a hatch slid open. They entered an even narrower corridor with hatches on both sides. Walking along, Ruhger found the correct one and entered.

The room was small and plain but it looked and smelled clean. Bunk beds on both sides, the narrow space between them leading to a tiny sani-mod. Q could fit four of these rooms in her compartment on Indomito, but she was way happier here.

“So, Clove, let’s see who’s on station we can fold out with,” Ruhger suggested.

Smart of Ruhger to assume someone was watching. Time for her to get into character. With the makeup, a bratty teenager was best. “I guess, Ep.” Q sighed, loud and long, cocked a hip, and looked up at Ruhger through her thick bangs. “Can’t we go shopping up on forty? They had some out-orbit stuff up there!”

“Shopping later,” Ruhger growled. “Virtual shopping. No way I’ve got credits for forty.”

Q whined, “You’re no fun.” She stuck her lower lip out and blinked pathetically.

Ruhger sat on one of the lower bunks and patted the space next to him. Saree pushed past both of them and entered the sani-mod. Ruhger stared at the sani-mod hatch, frowning.

That didn’t look fake. Saree wasn’t feeling good at all. Q bit her lip. She didn’t want to go it alone, but she wasn’t getting caught because of Saree.

“Let’s find that ride,” Ruhger said, widening the view of his e-torc.

Q sat close to him and made snarky comments about ship names. She didn’t recognize any of these folders. Daedalus, Excelsior, and Icarus were scheduled to be here now—did something big happen somewhere?

Saree came out of the sani-mod, clutching her head. “My head hurts. Too much ruckus out there. You two find us a ride out; I’m napping.” She looked wan and shaky.

Ruhger scowled at her. “Sure, Ferra, you rest, we’ll do the work.” He turned back to Q and pointed at a folder called Basestar on his holo. “What about that one?”

Saree climbed to the top bunk across from them. Both she and Ruhger tensed, ready to catch her, until she reached the top.

Suns, what did Ruhger ask?  Oh, the folder. It wasn’t one of the folders she was looking for. “Nah, she’s a rad-blaster. Can I scroll?”

Ruhger pulled the e-torc off and handed it to her, frowning at Saree’s back. Then he huffed, got up, and went to the sani-mod.

Good. Q could do this a lot faster on her own. She slid the e-torc around her neck and found a net node with one of her backdoors and got into Valenti net security easily. She set up alerts tied to their names, current faces, and this station corridor. Good thing she’d memorized all the net access codes rather than relying on her e-torc. Then she returned to the fold transport list—they had to leave this station quickly.

Ruhger dropped into the bottom bunk directly across from her and under Saree. “Wake me if you need anything.”

Q nodded at him, and he closed his eyes, seeming to drop into sleep immediately. Perfect—she’d work faster on her own. After scrolling through every folder leaving Vela, she didn’t find any she knew or trusted. Giving up on the passenger folders, she looked at the short-term work contracts.

Ah, here we go. A freighter looking for a net tech, a pilot, and general workers. Q looked through the work history. Yikes. These guys were barely limping along but from the reviews and fines, they didn’t get along with Familia. Perfect for them—Nebula Wraith wouldn’t ask questions. Q sent off inquiries for a crew of three including her real skills, and Epstein’s piloting qualifications, and got an offer back immediately. They traded messages for a while, Nebula Wraith’s captain insisting on pics of all of them and assurances they weren’t Familia because Familia was evil. No kidding. But this guy wasn’t any better—he was a sand flea. Q sent the real Epstein’s pic, and doctored pics of her and Saree—no one would recognize them. Really, Captain Bonnet—which wasn’t his real name, of course—should know better.

Q finally convinced Bonnet she knew her stuff by breaking into his personal e-torc and putting a message in his display. She got an agreement with a ludicrously low offer of credits. She was about to fire a counteroffer back when one of her security alerts went off. Sand and sun! Their escape from Indomito was discovered and the three of them had been spotted on the station. She accepted the employment offer and got up.

She poked Ruhger. “Got to go now. Security noticed us.” Q grabbed her carrysack and Saree’s.

He jumped up. “Wake up—we’ve got to go, now,” Ruhger hissed to Saree.

Q stared at the holo, reading her alerts. “We were spotted on forty on vid. It won’t take them long to find us.” She looked up at the two of them. No time for hair or makeup changes. “Sa—Ferra, take your hair down. Ep—suns, nothing we can do about those shoulders. Give me your hat.”

Ruhger took his hat off, dropping it on her head and walking to the hatch. “As much as I hate to ask, do you have any idea what Below is like here?”

Q shuddered. Dead, that’s what the non-existent station Below was like. “Bad idea. I got us jobs. We’re going back out, turn left out of the hostel, and to a float tube. Up two levels and out to shuttle arm Tango. I made a deal with a freighter captain for net work in exchange for passage. He expects help with piloting too; his pilot left him here and he hasn’t found another one. It’s not safe; he’s got a bad rep. But he hates Familia more than he hates anything else.” She whispered the name.

They left the Albergo. Q started spoofing vids with blank corridors and shunting alerts off to hidden data locations, but net techs were actively fighting her now. She jumped a little when Ruhger wrapped an arm around her shoulder, but quickly realized he was guiding her while she worked. Q trusted that Ruhger remembered her directions and kept working the security.

“We’re here,” Ruhger hissed in her ear.

Q looked up and entered the security code Bonnet gave her into the hatch. The hatches opened for them and they walked in, Ruhger shoving her behind his bulk.

But it didn’t matter. A short, fat human male pointed a laser pistol at them. Despite the weapon, Q was sure the stench of rotting food was a bigger threat. She gagged along with Saree, her eyes watering.

“Fools. Hands up. Didn’t you think I’d know Familia wants you?” He snorted. “You just paid my debt. Move there and sit.”

He motioned at the row of observers’ chairs behind the pilot and co-pilot’s seats. Q bit her lip and walked to the right, Ruhger going with her. Saree went the other way. The man’s pistol followed Q. She sniffed at her ridiculousness. The pistol was following Ruhger, not her. Before Q reached the seat, a stunner buzzed.

Saree lowered her hand and Q gaped. Where’d she get a stunner? Oh, Ruhger must have given her the one from the Familia shuttle.

Ruhger sprinted to the pilot’s seat and pulled up communications and navigation.

She shook her astonishment off. What if Captain Bonnet had better security than she thought?  Q pulled the e-torc off the unconscious Captain’s neck and started looking through it. No security so far… what about messages? Had Bonnet already messaged Familia?

Ruhger said, “Get us an orbit out to… hah, here it is, Fold Transport Nebula Wraith.”

Q looked up. Oh, he was talking to Saree. Good. She went back to Bonnet’s messages, checking all his systems.

“Sounds like a pirate,” Saree said.

“Probably is,” Ruhger said. “Q, did he contact Familia already?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Q said, looking through less obvious messaging systems. “But he could have sent something coded.” Some of these messages looked weird. And this one—yikes! She pushed it to the delete folder. Eww. People should know better.

“Any idea how many onboard the folder?” Ruhger asked.

Q recalled the messages between them. Bonnet hadn’t said anything about the other crew. Or if there was anyone else on the crew at all. “Let me look.” There was no organization in Bonnet’s e-torc. Nothing was put in any kind of order. This would take forever.

Saree said, “Release scheduled in nine minutes, forty seconds.”

“Perfect. Secure that idiot and see if there’s any armor on this boat.”

Q searched for personnel files while Saree secured Bonnet. Saree started poking around the shuttle, opening compartments. Waves of new and different stenches wafted to her, mostly rotting food.

Q finally found Bonnet’s crew roster. “Eww. There’s a crew of twenty on the folder and most of them are Blattos.” She’d never seen a Blatto, but the very idea of meter-tall cockroaches made her shudder violently. She scrolled down the crew list—Bonnet didn’t even put their names down, he just numbered them. Yuck. Most of them were unskilled labor, like cargo loaders and cleaners. Blattos cleaned? There was a name by the engineer and purser, but they were lined through, and blank spots by the pilot and co-pilot. So, Bonnet had needed a pilot badly.

“Blast and rad. Those things are impossible to stun and hard to kill,” Ruhger said. “Are any of them command or pilots?”

“No. And it looks like the pilot and co-pilot left, so the whole crew is Blatto except that guy.” Q pointed at Bonnet. She smirked; Saree had not only flex-cuffed his wrists but secured them to a loop under a broken plas floor tile.

Ruhger said, “Find out if this shuttle is usually the folder’s command center or if piloting takes place elsewhere. Either way, see if the Blattos have access.” He huffed. “I’m willing to bet they don’t.”

“Oh yeah? How much?” Q asked, laughing inside. The relief of being off station was making her silly.

“What?” Ruhger asked.

“How much are you willing to bet? I need some credits.” She didn’t, but Ruhger and Saree didn’t need to know that.

Ruhger snorted. “It’s a figure of speech. I don’t gamble.”

“Of course you don’t.” Q snorted. Ruhger seemed pretty humorless. Was he? She’d find out. Q yelled, “Saree, does he do anything fun?” Ruhger’s back stiffened. This was kind of fun. And she needed some of that in her life, especially right now.

“Not very often.”

“Figures. May as well be back on Cygnus with the Sisters.” They both ignored her. Fine. Q flopped down in the co-pilot’s seat and kept looking through Bonnet’s messy files.

Saree said, “Ruhger, I’m not finding anything but garbage.”

“They’re saving it for the Blattos,” Ruhger said. Q’s stomach turned. He continued, “They’ll eat anything, and believe it or not, stations pay good credits for Blatto waste. Makes good fertilizer. Find a seat. Launch in five….”

Saree plopped into a seat, while Q fastened her harness. It was sticky. Yuck. Q jolted in the seat as the shuttle was shoved out.

“Thrust in five, four, three, two, thrust.”

A surge of heavier gravity and then the grav generators came on. Q almost floated, then landed back in her seat somewhere near one-g.

“This thing needs an overhaul,” Ruhger muttered.

“And an intense cleaning,” Saree said.

“We might have the time,” Q told them. “I don’t think we dare message your Lightwave. Familia has too many sniffers on the comms out of Valenti; all of Vela, really. We need to fold out on Nebula Wraith or another folder already here. And taking this shuttle to a different folder will raise a stink.” She laughed at her pun. “A bigger stink than this shuttle.”

“Can you imagine what the folder smells like?” Saree asked, revulsion warring with wonder in her voice.

“I’m hoping we can dock the shuttle and avoid the folder entirely,” Ruhger said. “We’ve got rations here, right?”

“Meal packs,” Saree said. “I haven’t counted them yet.”

“If we fold out to wherever we want, then make a deal with the Blattos to give them the folder, hopefully, they’ll just leave us alone.”

Q said, “I don’t think so. I think they’ll try to swarm us and eat us.” She’d seen it in vid games enough that she looked it up.

“They eat sentients?!” Saree said over Ruhger’s exclamation, “Seriously?”

“It’s never been proven….” Q let the words trail off. “But I’ve seen lots of rumors on the net.”

“This gets better and better.”

More of her alerts went off as Valenti’s security tracked them. Q went back to tweaking security’s figurative nose. Security found most of her backdoors and shut her out. But she still had a few… “Sand and sun! Familia figured out we left the station.”

“Blast and rad,” Ruhger said. “Will they look for this shuttle?”

Q sighed. Valenti’s net techs weren’t stupid, they were just lazy. For example, their certainty the three of them had left the station, just because they couldn’t find the three of them immediately. “Eventually, they’ll track us through the station by where I covered our tracks. They’ll figure it out.” What could she do? She had to make it look like they were still there.

Ruhger nodded. “Okay, then we’re increasing thrust. We might be under heavy-g the whole way because these grav generators are terrible.”

Q’s arm got heavy and she reclined the seat, despite the stickiness. She’d take a long shower later. She had to keep working now, despite the gravity and the dirty shuttle. “I know, I’ll blank out a lot more vids on-station, try to make it look like we’re still there, walking the passageways. But the interface on this e-torc is terrible and the shuttle net is worse.” Q flicked a fingernail at the flickering holo display. It stabilized for a moment, then went back to flickering. She sighed. “Captain Bonnet is a cheapskate. We should have bought a decent e-torc on the station.” She hadn’t had enough time to find a shady dealer, though. The time lag was starting to be a problem too.

“We don’t have credits for a decent e-torc. I just about wiped Epstein’s account out as it was,” Ruhger said. “If we’d had a bit more time, we could have earned them, but…” Ruhger let the words trail off. Q was about to tell him she had credits when he continued. “If we can make it to the folder, we’ve got a chance. If the fold generators work, I’ll fold out right there. Familia wants to abduct us, they pay for it.”

Wow. Fold out in the fold hold orbit? That would cause all kinds of disruptions for the folders in nearby orbits and to the Valenti fold clock. Ruhger was punching Familia right in the nose. Q snickered, then went back to find out what she could about Nebula Wraith.

“Saree, how did you do that trick in Mensa?” Ruhger asked.

“I used a net worm Hal wrote and broke into the ore transport comms. Why?”

Q considered Saree. She hadn’t gotten the impression Saree was a net tech, but she’d mentioned someone named Hal wrote the worm. But if Saree could use net tools, then getting away might be easier. Sand fleas! Locked out of another backdoor. Q swept the connection away.

“Q, could you do that?”

She brought her attention back to Ruhger for a split second. “Do what? I’m a little busy here.”

“Break into a bulk space transport train comms system,” Ruhger said with a bit of impatience.

What? Why would you want to? Q shrugged. Not much else she could do on the station now. “Probably. Which one?”

“Don’t know; I need to find one.”

Who had time for hypothetical questions? “Well, that’s not helpful, Ruhger. I’m not chasing waterfalls.”

“What?” Ruhger said at the same time Saree did. Q snickered again.

“How about I look around, Ruhger?” Saree asked. “Slide surveillance over to me—oh, blast, no e-torc.”

“Q can move and you can take the shuttle screens.”

Oh, sure, because that would be so easy in this heavy grav. But Ruhger was right. Q forced herself up out of the co-pilot’s seat and staggered back to one of the observer chairs, thudding down harder than she wanted to. Ow. She could hardly wait until she could start training again.

After a few minutes, Saree said, “Ruhger, can you change orbit enough to swing us near Valenti Four-Two?”

“An under-construction station is the answer?” Ruhger asked.

“It might not be the answer for the universe and everything, but it’s the answer for us. Plas shipments. They need lots and lots of raw plas.”

“Good.” He pulled Valenti Four-Two’s orbit into the navigation, still showing on the shuttle display. “Find us an outgoing plas transport and I’ll find us a covert route for intercept. Let’s see, I can duck behind this shuttle….”

An orbit for an inbound transport pinged in Q’s e-torc. What was she supposed to do with this? She was still blanking vids on the station and setting off various alarms.

Saree asked, “Q, do you have any prebuilt worms? I can take on the plas transport infiltration. At least to start.”

Good, because she couldn’t spare the time, not if they wanted to escape unnoticed. “Sure.” Q connected to Epstein’s e-torc and pushed a folder full of worms, viruses, trojan horses, and other fun toys to Saree’s station on the shuttle.

“Wow. Okay then, this should keep me busy for a while.”

Q sure hoped so. With the time lag and Valenti net security actively working against her, it was hard to do anything proactive, all she could do was watch for signs their escape from the Valenti Station was discovered. If Familia figured out they were on this shuttle, they’d have troops boarding them in no time at all. Probably those creepy human-looking remotes.

She shuddered. The sooner they could fold out, the better. If they couldn’t fold out, hiding was the next best choice. No matter what, Q wasn’t going back.

#

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Quinn of Cygnus Copyright © 2020 by AM Scott. All Rights Reserved.

 

Quinn of Cygnus: Lift Off–Chapter Ten

This is an unedited draft. While the main story won’t change, you may find some awkward phrasing, typos, and some fine details will be missing. I’ll also be adding additional background for people who haven’t read the Folding Space Series.  I’ll publish a new chapter every week. Enjoy!

See Chapter One here.

Chapter Ten

Quinn watched the shuttle fly away from Indomito, desperately wishing she was on it. But if wishes were shuttles, she’d be long gone. Laying back on her favorite lounger on the observation deck, she brought up the shuttle schedule. There was little available other than the shuttle designation and destination, which meant an Enforcer on board. Possibly even Justice Fatima or Head Enforcer Enzo—either one she’d happily wish a quick trip into a black hole or a mysterious collision with a comet.

She’d wish that on any or all of the Enforcers. They were vicious, nasty people who treated everyone else like dirt. Unfortunately, they were also clever and quick; the stupid and weak didn’t last long. Quinn bit her lip and brought up her hidden, secondary window. Designed to hide what she was looking at from those watching her on the net, she used it only when she was alone in a public place.

Watching her watchers, she’d discovered those observing her via the net, like Tech Paola, didn’t usually bother watching real-time when she was in public. Those tracking her in person, usually via security vid, didn’t watch her while she was in her work compartment or living compartment. Both were fooled by her apparent age and meek compliance with rules, regulations, and demands, both reasonable and unreasonable.

“Can I get you something to drink or eat, Trainee Quinn?” a man’s voice asked, making Quinn jump. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

Quinn put a hand over her heart and swept away her holo entirely. “That’s okay, Angelo.” She smiled at the grey-haired man with the heavily wrinkled, tired face. “I should be more aware of my surroundings. But no, I’m fine.” She shrugged. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

“Very well. Please let me know if you need anything at all. I’ll come by later if I don’t hear from you. I know you forget to eat sometimes.” Angelo leveled an admonishing look at her.

“Oh, please do. You know I just don’t think about it. Thank you.”

“Of course, Trainee Quinn,” he bowed slightly. “It’s our pleasure to serve you.” He put a little emphasis on the pronoun, bowed again, and walked away.

Quinn sighed. She didn’t understand why people, especially “important” people couldn’t be nice. The servers, the cooks, the cleaners, all of the “working” class worked so hard; they deserved to be treated with dignity. But no. She saw Enzo shove one of them so hard he fell and broke his arm. Then they docked poor Robertos’s pay, because he couldn’t do his job until he healed, which meant his family back on Velorum was on starvation rations for a while. But Familia didn’t care—Roberto should have gotten out of Enzo’s way.

By the Mother, she hated every one of them. Quinn snorted at her blasphemy—the Mother expected love for all beings. But Quinn wasn’t too sure Enforcers counted as sentient beings—they were more like soulless machines. Maybe artificial intelligences entirely focused on their own survival and well-being, and the rest of the universe could fold into a black hole.

Looking around, Quinn cautiously brought up her holo again, setting an alert for anyone passing within three meters of her. It wouldn’t catch everyone—Enforcers and security were often incognito on the net and active surveillance would be noticed—but it was better than nothing. Then she used her hidden window to listen to Indomito’s traffic control communications. Slowly, she was figuring out Indomito’s shuttle missions and who came to visit via shuttle. She already knew getting on a visitor’s shuttle was practically impossible. Those airlocks were guarded by security remotes, real people, and vid backup in a special section of the shuttle docking level.

Most of Indomito’s fifty-plus shuttles were docked on a dedicated level of the fold transport, except four used by Indomito’s captain and his staff.  The single, “public” entrance to Indomito’s shuttle-docking level was guarded by a remote, a person, and vid. There were several emergency accesses to the shuttle docks, but those hatches could only be opened by activating explosive bolts and the alarms were routed on a dedicated net and watched by security vid.

But, watching the common dock entrance guard post, Quinn noticed security there was slightly lax. The remotes weren’t the best ones, often weren’t fully charged and the security team in charge of the remotes expected the in-person guard to do the work, while the guards relied on the system too much. It seemed Familia’s security was convinced it was too hard for most people to steal a shuttle and get away. Or they had everyone so downtrodden they wouldn’t try. To some extent, the carelessness was understandable—even if someone succeeded in stealing a shuttle, Indomito’s weapons could pulverize them with a single blast.

Regardless, Quinn had found several ways to escape on a shuttle. Finding a pilot to blackmail or threaten was the easiest option. Not that it was actually easy—she’d need a bigger threat than Familia already had. However, Quinn’s next big assignment was helping Security with some personnel file security, so she’d use that opportunity to snoop a little. Maybe she’d be able to look inside the files before she secured them or hide a backdoor.

After hearing nothing new on Indomito’s comms, she turned them off, yawned, and stretched a bit, then focused back on the space beyond Indomito. There weren’t any people near her, so Quinn brought up her latest vid of Tech Paola’s workstation. She couldn’t contain her proud smirk at her cleverness.

She’d been detailed to inventory and test a compartment full of miscellaneous vid equipment. It was mostly junk, but there wa a bin of self-contained vid systems in a variety of shapes and sizes, including tiny, pin-sized ones, probably used for spying. Stealing a few of those pin vids was risky, but she took a few of the older ones, marking them as “broken/recycled” on the inventory. Paola had been pleased—they’d been missing this particular bin for some time and the loss rate was less than expected. Quinn was fairly certain Paola didn’t realize the tiny spy pins were in the bin; Quinn hid them in the middle of the inventory under their model name, like she hadn’t realized what they were used for.

Once she’d charged the pin vids, Quinn perched one on each of her fellow trainee’s workstations. A few weeks later, she’d been called into Tech Paola’s work compartment for an assignment and she’d taken the opportunity to put one there, too. She’d tripped on her own feet, catching herself on Tech Paola’s chair and pushing the pin vid deep into a rather dusty seam.

Quinn carried a pin vid everywhere she went, ready to deploy at any time. Since the spy vids relied on internal memory, not the net, she could only leave them someplace she’d be likely to return to within a few days, but leaving a vid was far less perilous than a tech finding an unknown signal on the net or finding a transmission during a routine bug sweep.

Downloading the vids was dangerous too, but she’d set up a script on her e-torc that did it automatically whenever she got within two meters of one. Running in the background, at first glance it looked like a data backup protocol. She’d learned that little trick from her spy vid on Fabriano’s workstation—he’d hidden his underground gambling ring very well.

The vid on Tech Paola’s workstation was obscured slightly by dust, but it was still pure gold. Quinn had gathered some important passphrases and codes, including some getting her into Security’s vid net watching the “public” areas on Indomito. The vids on the Enforcer’s level and Justice Fatima’s level were on a separately secured net, but if Quinn had to go up against Enforcers directly, she was space dust.

Fortunately, accessing Indomito’s public vid net let her confirm piloting assignments, security at the shuttles, and the prison. She’d found the prison cells entirely by chance, but since then, she’d uncovered everything she possibly could. After all, Quinn might find herself in one of those cells someday.

The block of cells, just twelve of them, was rarely used. Indomito’s staff was thoroughly cowed, and most had loved ones on a Familia planet or right here on Indomito, perfect for ensuring trouble didn’t last long. Quinn had heard those not-so-subtle threats herself from Paola: “I wonder how many lovely little girls the Sisters of Cygnus have right now? Maybe they’d be smarter than you are?” Quinn had burst into tears and bowed her head, gritting her teeth all the while, knowing that even if she did everything perfectly, if Familia thought it was worth it, they’d go to Secundus no matter how well she obeyed. The only thing saving the Sisters’ orphans was their remote location and small numbers.

Indomito’s cells were mostly filled with beings from elsewhere. Someone would be flown to Indomito from a planet or station, transferred to a cell to wait for a day or more, “interviewed” by an Enforcer, then flown somewhere else, often a different folder. Most of the time, the interrogations were short, with the prisoner drugged and telling the Enforcer everything they wanted to know, usually awful things, accompanied by a lot of crying. One interrogation she’d stopped watching; Enzo and another Enforcer had tortured the person, taunting the poor man with the knowledge they already knew everything he was confessing, that his painful death was a lesson for others, nothing more.

Despite that horrible experience, Quinn watched those most of the interrogations, for several reasons. One, someone should witness for those who were innocent, or at least not horrendous. Someday she might get the chance to let a family member know what happened to their loved one. Two, she could test the security subtly, creating things that looked like glitches, such as a loss of vid or sound, and see how security responded. Three, sometimes, the prisoners let valuable information slip. She’d built up quite a library of security data on Familia stations and worlds and gotten some valuable blackmail intelligence. She’d be thrilled to use it against these awful people.

Despite the good information and intentions, watching the interrogations took a toll on her soul. Quinn found herself cowering around the Enforcers. They responded well to her new attitude; Quinn just had to remind herself it wasn’t real. But to some extent, it was. Despite her terror, she persevered. She was absolutely determined to escape. She would not live her life at the pleasure of these horrible people.

“Gentles, please prepare for fold to Valenti in five minutes. Secure yourself and all loose items,” Indomito’s chief purser announced.

Huh. This wasn’t a previously scheduled fold. Quinn shrugged and looked around her lounger, ensuring she hadn’t left anything lying around. Angelo caught her eye; he was jogging to her, bev-tainer in hand. She scrambled up to meet him. “Angelo, you didn’t have to hurry. I would be happy to have it after fold.”

“No, you should have this now,” he said with a panting smile. “You need your strength.” He handed the container to her. “Thank you for allowing me to serve you.” He bowed and jogged away.

“Thank you!” she called to his retreating form, hating the servant’s required thank-you phrase. Quinn returned to her seat and sipped. Delicious. The staff cook, a middle-aged woman named Maria, was constantly creating treats for her. Quinn knew it was partially Enzo’s edict that she “grow up”—the shakes, cookies, and cakes included medico-approved ingredients—but when Quinn was detailed to work on the kitchen’s net, she introduced herself to the kitchen staff and did her best to make their net more effective and efficient. Between that and her treating them like human beings rather than faceless remotes, Quinn hoped it kept them from poisoning her someday, but that was probably asking too much. Besides, if required, an enforcer would poison her food, not the kitchen staff.

Quinn got rid of her hidden window and sipped her drink, snapping it into the holder just before fold. She drew the security net across herself and relaxed.

“Fold to Valenti in five, four, three, two, fold. All stations, we’ve arrived safely in Valenti.”

As usual, Quinn felt nothing during or after fold. But she was always careful to sit or lay down, because after one fold, she’d felt strange, like her whole body got slapped, and she was pretty sure she’d blacked-out. It was so odd, but it hadn’t happened again.

A message came in from Tech Paola: “Report to shuttle bay Delta Twelve in thirty minutes. Be prepared to spend three days on Valenti Station.”

Well, today was getting more and more interesting. She’d never been on a station work trip. Her fellow trainees went often, but not Quinn. This must be a big deal. Or it was a test. She sighed. No matter how much she wanted to or how easy it might look at the moment, she couldn’t try to escape during this trip. Any opportunity was sure to be a setup. They’d be watching her closely and she had to lull them into complacency. She had to be a meek, obedient little girl.

Quinn jogged to her compartment and packed a small bag with uniforms and toiletries. Aurora sent her a message to pack some casual clothes too, just in case they were allowed a night off on the station. She smiled sadly. It wasn’t likely, but it didn’t hurt to shove an extra pair of leggings and a sweater in her bag. In twenty-five minutes, Quinn was waiting at the shuttle-level security station entrance.

In twenty-eight minutes, a group of ten net techs, her fellow trainees, and Tech Paola had gathered. “All accounted for, Tech Paola,” a man she didn’t know announced.

“Excellent. Let’s go.” Paola led the way through Security. Quinn hung in the back with her fellow trainees and walked through, noting this guard was paying attention, as was the remote. She half-expected to be stopped, but they let her go. It was almost certainly a test but it was still useful to her. This was her first real opportunity to see the shuttles and bays in person.

Behind the security station, an open area led to six more hatches. Taking one on the right, they walked down a short corridor, through another hatch, and turned right again into another corridor, passing shuttle bays six through eleven. The airlocks at bay twelve were open, and they filed into a luxuriously-appointed shuttle. Three rows of five cushy seats waited for them, and Quinn saw Tech Paola and two of the others enter a hatch off to the side of the shuttle’s main seating area. The rest settled in; Aurora, Gio, Marco, and Fabriano took the last row of seats, Aurora patting the one next to her for Quinn. Her smiled seemed strained.

At the front, the co-pilot stood. “Gentles, please strap in for pushback and launch. After our initial thrust into orbit, you’ll be able to move about the cabin. Feel free to help yourself to food and drink,” she pointed to the galley, “and the sani-mod is there. Note the location of the emergency suits and escape pods, they’re all clearly marked.” She pointed at several brightly-marked compartments around the cabin. “Our travel time is approximately four hours and fifty-two minutes.”

Quinn fastened her harness, noting her closest emergency suit was behind her. When she turned back, she saw Aurora had a death grip on the buttery-soft armrest cover. “Not a fan of flying?”

Aurora shivered. “Not a fan of space flight. Air flight is fine.”

“Aurora had an unfortunate accident in a shuttle when she was little,” Fabriano said in a mockingly sympathetic tone. “She was the only survivor, but she was in a bod-pod for a long time.”

Quinn couldn’t believe Fab had survived the gambling ring incident. His family must be really high up in Familia.

“Idiota,” Gio snarled.

Fabriano snapped something back, but Quinn didn’t care. She put a hand over Aurora’s, who turned her hand and held on. Her grip was just short of painful, but that didn’t matter. “It will be okay—I’ve got you.”

Aurora didn’t look convinced but hung on tight. Quinn kept talking until they were thirty minutes into the flight. Marco brought them tea and water and Gio brought snacks. Quinn was sure it was for Aurora, not her, but that was all right. Aurora needed help.

After the tea and snacks, Aurora fell asleep.

Marco whispered, “The medicos know. They probably gave her something.”

Quinn smiled her thanks. For the rest of the flight, the three of them shushed anyone speaking too loudly, and woke her just before they’d docked with Valenti Station.

“Listen up,” Tech Paola said. “Some station maintenance personnel have organized a ‘Valenti Below’, similar to the protection rackets on other stations.” She sneered. “Obviously, Justice Fatima doesn’t think much of this idea. The initiators of this scheme have been arrested and they’re undergoing questioning right now. Our job is to look for hidden or shadow nets that allow station personnel to circumvent Valenti Station’s laws regarding data storage and use. Station personnel have already found hardware deep in the air handling equipment commanding a shadow net. They’ve removed it. However, we believe there are additional comm nodes throughout the station and we believe they also setup backup nodes that tunnel through the existing net. You’ve been split into teams already, check your specific assignments in your official messages. The sooner we get our tasks accomplished, the faster we can do other things, and there may be other rewards as well. Capisce?”

Quinn nodded along with the rest but had nothing in her official messages except an assignment to Team Three under Technician Matteo. Aurora nudged her. “What team are you on?”

“Three.”

“Weird, me too.”

“Make that me three,” Gio said.

“You’re all on my team,” a man said behind her. “Lucky me, all the new kids.” Tech Matteo was medium height and build, with the Familia look. “You,” he pointed at Quinn, “will come in handy for this task.”

Quinn looked at him skeptically.

“The rest of you? Well, we’ll see. Come, follow me.” Matteo didn’t join the line of people leaving the shuttle, no, he turned to the cargo bay and entered. Inside, a pallet held several cases of equipment. Matteo unfasted the first case and pulled a small box out. “This is very basic equipment, but sometimes, the basics work well. We know what frequencies the illegal net used, so we’re looking for hidden equipment using those frequencies.” He looked up with his lip curled.

“The problem is the legal equipment uses the same frequency. However, the legal equipment isn’t hidden. So, we’ll be climbing through maintenance areas and crawling along access shafts and all kinds of potentially dirty and not fun places.” Matteo laughed. “And by we, I mean you.” He pointed a finger it the four of them.

“But before we do anything else, we’ll be flying surveillance remotes through every public corridor on the station to map where we find the strongest signals for the suspect frequencies. Then, we’ll go to those areas in person. I’m sending a special program to your e-torcs. Install it, and you’ll use that net ware to narrow down the suspect signals further. Then, we’ll enter those areas, probably mostly maintenance areas, and see if there’s legal equipment there. We’ll check the legal equipment against the station’s registered database and go looking for illegal equipment using these.” Matteo held a small box on his hand.

“I’ve found some illegal net nodes in plain sight with fake inventory tags, and some hidden in things like air ducts, water pipes, sewer pipes—hah! I see you have figured out why you’re here.” Matteo grinned. “I hope you brought extra clothes. Leave your packs here, but be sure you take some water and snacks with you. It’s going to be a long day.”

Quinn sighed. Remote flying sounded fun, but the rest? Not so much.

#

She walked her twenty-seventh kilometer, down a dingy passageway in the bowels of the station. Turned out flying remotes wasn’t any fun at all for them. This wasn’t Matteo’s first station search. He had a pre-programmed swarm of practically invisible remotes; after unpacking they flew away. An hour later, the four trainees were off surveying corridors of interest, a security remote trundling behind each of them. Fortunately, not one of the super-creepy human-like remotes. Quinn was sure the remote was there not only to guard the trainees but to watch them.

But that was okay. Quinn had learned a lot today. Like how easy it was to enter a maintenance access hatch. She’d always thought they’d be secured better, but they mostly relied on being hidden; the locking mechanism was a code comprised of the hatch’s location by station level and area. Most of the locks weren’t on the net, so you could simply pry one open and muffle the alarm mechanically. It might be an inexpensive solution, but it seemed shortsighted.

Inside those maintenance access areas, she’d found some excellent hiding places and some that initially looked like excellent hiding places, but weren’t. She’d also shimmied through some return air ducts, peered into cabling ports, climbed up and down a lot of maintenance access ladders between station levels, and found out a lot about how stations worked. Or how Valenti Station worked, anyway.

Despite her weariness, Quinn smiled. As part of checking if a net node was legal or illegal, they’d been given administrator access to the comm nodes. She was sure the station would change all the passphrases and access codes later, but while she was crawling through those access ways, she’d managed to set up a few backdoors on the legal net nodes. It was slightly risky—if a node needed replacement and someone examined the net ware on it rather than sending it off for recycling or rebuild, they could find her access. Figuring out who made the backdoor wouldn’t be hard, they’d just have to look at who was in that area at the time of the access’s creation and they’d find Quinn. But if she ever got the chance to run on Valenti Station, it would be worth the risk. She could infiltrate almost every Valenti Security system from just one of these nodes.

The detector showed a spike and Quinn slowed, looking for the access hatch. Most of them were small and down near the decking. She grinned. Fabriano must be having a terrible time—he was tall and little heavy. She found the hatch and opened it, crawling inside. The area wasn’t big enough to let the security remote follow her, but it was tall enough for her to stand in, so she did.

Boxes and hatches festooned the compartment walls and tubes of various sizes ran through the cramped space. Many of the tubes had access ports on them as well. Using Matteo’s program, Quinn scanned and finally found the net node. Bringing up her node admin access, she found this one was legal and set her now-perfected script running to create a backdoor. Then she took the detector box and swept it over every square centimeter of the maintenance area, including all the pipes and each access port. She finally found the illegal net node in a small hollow between a sewer pipe and the compartment’s wall, and with a little effort, managed to pop it loose. Crawling back out, she put the illegal node into a bin on the security remote and grabbed her water.

Tech Matteo called her just as she was drinking. “Good job, Trainee Quinn. Come back up to the shuttle and grab your gear. We’ve got rooms on the station, then we’re going to dinner. Tech Paola is very happy with our progress, so it will be a nice dinner.”

“Thank you, Tech Matteo, I’ll be there soon.” She sighed, put the bottle back in the security remote, and started trudging. She was in shape, but she didn’t usually walk quite this much—her feet ached. But as she went, she found more legal net nodes and created backdoor accesses on each one. If she was ever going to escape Indomito, it was likely to be here. But not this time.

She took a lift tube as far as it went—level Twenty-Five—and then walked deeper into the interior of the station to reach the next tube. Making the final turn, Quinn saw half the lights in the corridor were out and she stopped, then backed up. But it was too late.

Some sort of mesh material was thrown over the security remote, resulting in blue bolts zapping as it tried to defend itself. Four masked people surrounded her. Quinn backed slowly to the wall, ready to lash out. But at least one carried a stunner, so if they wanted her badly enough, she was done.

“Buonsera for us, boys,” one of them snarked, walking closer.

“It’s a job, not a game,” the one on her far-right hissed. “Bella, you want out? Away from here?”

“Away from you? Yes!” Quinn said in a high, squeaky tone.

Snorts and chuckles sounded. “No, bella, away from those Enforcers. We could use a net expert.”

Quinn shook her head violently. “I’m not an expert, I’m just a trainee. I’m not going to do you any good at all.”

“Shame. Well, we’ve got a use for you anyway. Stun—” He dropped to the floor, along with the rest. Armored security people and remotes surrounded her.

“Are you okay, Trainee Quinn?”

“Yes, sir, I’m fine. You got here just in time to save me from a stunner headache.” She smiled, putting a little hero worship in her face.

“Good. Let’s go.”

He escorted her back to the shuttle. Quinn didn’t dare make any more backdoors on the way, but she knew there would be more opportunities tomorrow. After all, she’d passed the test—and she was sure it was a test. Security was too quick to respond, with too many people. And who would be stupid enough to blatantly proposition someone with an official security remote in a public station corridor? No, anyone really challenging Familia on their own station would be far more cautious. Guess her silly little girl act was working.

They took a float tube to level Thirty, a short walk through a food court making her tummy rumble, and another tube to Forty. Then across a huge shopping area lined with fancy stores and restaurants, the plaza sprinkled with luxury goods kiosks and seating areas, and finally into a secured corridor leading back to their guarded shuttle bay. Once she passed the airlock security, her escort left.

“Quinn, glad to see you got here safely,” Matteo said. “Change and we’ll join the rest at dinner.”

“Sure, Tech Matteo. Thank you.” Quinn grabbed her bag and jogged into the sani-mod, threw on some clothes, and pushed the memories of the confrontation into a box in her head. Later tonight, when she was alone, she could process them. For now, she had to act like a normal, if slightly scared, girl. At least she’d have a good excuse to leave the party early.

Finished, she repacked her bag and joined Matteo, who motioned her out the airlock. Two security remotes joined them as they walked down the eerily quiet corridor.

“Quinn!” a woman’s voice called from behind her.

She turned and peered around the remotes. “Ka—Enforcer Kathe. Nice to see you.” She waited for Kathe to catch up but she was moving slower than usual. “Tech Matteo, perhaps you should go without me? I’m sure Enforcer Kathe’s security will be more than sufficient.”

“I’ll wait,” he said, a mixture of trepidation and curiosity on his face.

Quinn shrugged one shoulder. She hadn’t seen Kathe for…more than eight days. A surprisingly long time. When Kathe neared, Quinn grew concerned. Kathe looked tired, and she was strolling, rather than walking. Actually, it was more like tottering. “Enforcer Kathe, can I get you a float chair?”

“Nonsense, I’ve just been sitting too long in the shuttle.” Kathe waved her concerns away.

But her security personnel, two humans, seemed to agree with Quinn because a float chair came up behind them. She smiled at the two, then turned her attention back to Kathe. “Kathe, this is Net Technician Matteo, my supervisor today.”

Kathe frowned at him. “I see. Well, go on with whatever you were doing. I’m taking Quinn to dinner with me.”

“Very well, Enforcer. I’ll leave one of the security remotes with you and Trainee Quinn.” He bowed and scurried off.

“He’s a nice man, he was just escorting me to the net worker’s dinner,” Quinn said.

Kathe chuckled. “Eh, it never hurts to put a little fear into any man near you. Now, come along. There’s a new place I want to try.”

Quinn fell into place beside Kathe. They ambled along, but Kathe wasn’t speeding up like she normally did; no, she was slowing. “Enforcer Kathe, are you sure you don’t want a float chair?”

She stopped and sighed, her shoulders dropping as she stared at the floor. A deep breath in and Kathe straightened and turned to Quinn. “I guess I have no choice.”

Quinn smiled sadly and shrugged. The float chair slid up beside Kathe and she plopped rather heavily on to it. Quinn was ready to catch her, but Kathe seemed secure.

“Well, let’s see what this thing can do,” Kathe said with a grin.

Quinn laughed, but she could see Kathe was struggling with the idea of using a float chair. There was something else, too. Pain, perhaps? She was holding herself rather stiffly. Kathe zoomed off and Quinn broke into a jog to keep up, keeping the pain of her aching feet off her face. Her feet would recover, but Quinn wasn’t so sure Kathe would.

At the restaurant, one of the fancy ones she’d passed on level Forty, they were seated in a private room, the security remote left outside, the security people at either door. Both guards turned down Kathe’s offer of a meal. Quinn rather wished she could have because the food was weird. The taste wasn’t bad, exactly, but each course was strangely textured, in purees, foams, dried crisps, ices, and puddings.

“Well, that was interesting,” Kathe said, waving away the dessert tray.

Quinn smiled tightly, not wanting to say anything to insult the chef, but she wasn’t a fan.

Kathe also waited for the server to leave, then chuckled. “Not my favorite. I know Enzo wants to take you out to dinner tomorrow night. I’ll be sure to tell him to take you somewhere else.”

Quinn’s heart sank and she bit her lip to keep from screaming “No!” Then she remembered who she was with and smoothed her face back into pleasant acceptance.

Kathe pretended not to notice. “Ah well, you have to try new things, or you get old.” She chuckled again. “Actually, you get old anyway. But even if your body fails, you can’t let your mind get old.” Kathe pointed at Quinn. “Remember that. Don’t let your mind or spirit get old, no matter what.” She dropped the hand, but not before Quinn saw it was shaking. “I asked you here tonight because I wanted to talk to you off Indomito.”

Kathe did something to her holo and Quinn shivered. “You sense that. Interesting. It’s a combination of high and low frequencies which usually makes microphones collect nothing but squeals and static.” She did something else to her holo and a privacy shield popped into place around them. “Do you have any anti-spy stuff to add, Quinn?”

She pressed her lips together for a second, then realized that gave her away to someone like Kathe. “Sure.” Quinn set her anti-spy protocol running.

“Good. While this wasn’t the meal I was hoping for, I did want to talk to you.” She grimaced and sighed. “I’m dying.”

“What?!”

Kathe shrugged again. “I’m old. I’ve had a very long life, probably too long for the peace of mind of a lot of people, and it’s coming to an end. I’ve done all the treatments I can.” She snort-laughed. “I never once thought I’d end up dying in a bed. Not with the life I’ve lived. Maybe karma does exist. I’ve caused enough suffering, so I get to suffer through the end.” She stared off into space for a moment. “Anyway, I wanted you to know. I didn’t want you to be surprised, or wonder, or any of the rest of it.” Another grimace. “I’ll be leaving you some credits. Don’t refuse them. Credits allow you to make some decisions on your own or at least make the life you can’t change make more pleasant.” Abruptly, Kathe swept all the security off and moved her float chair away from the table. “This chair is pretty comfortable. I think I’ll keep it. Come on, Quinn, let’s go get you some gelato.”

Quinn watched her float away until the security person behind her asked, “Trainee Quinn?” She shook herself out of her stupor, got up, and followed Kathe’s chair through the restaurant, jammed with beings in strange, but surely expensive clothing and adornments. Mutters followed them, but Quinn ignored them all. Her only powerful supporter on Indomito was dying, leaving her behind.

Well, she’d been working on escape support, but now she needed a real plan. Because when Kathe was gone, her life was likely to change forever. And not in a good way. If Enzo was taking her to public places, her life as a net tech trainee was over.

#

“Fab, shut up,” Gio said. “We’re all tired of the whining. If you don’t like the work, leave.” His body strung tight, he threw a wrapper in the recycling and returned to his workstation.

“I can’t leave any more than you can,” Fabriano muttered. Amazingly, he didn’t complain about Gio’s use of the nickname he hated. Something must be bothering him, but Quinn couldn’t find much reason to care. He wasn’t a nice person.

“Then get in shape,” Mario said with a disdainful sniff. “But I agree with Gio. We’ve been back for three days. Find something new to complain about.”

Quinn followed Mario, returning to her workstation and another mindless chore. But Fabriano’s last complaint made her wonder—what did Familia have on Fabriano? It could be any number of things. Or it could be a lie to suck them into complacency. Either way, she wasn’t making friends with Fabriano. Or the rest of them. They were nice enough to play games with or share a meal, but Quinn couldn’t share any of her troubles with them—they all had their own. None of them would hesitate to betray her if it would ease their burdens. And it would. She’d give almost anything to be one of them, a regular worker rather than Enzo’s special obsession. Well, enough dreaming—she had work to do.

“Hey, it’s dinner time, let’s go,” Aurora said.

Really? Where did the time go? Quinn pushed her screens away and stood, stretching high. All the sitting was killing her. “Hey, do these workstations have standing or walking configurations?”

Aurora shook her head. “No idea. Should be in the settings if they do. Why?”

“I got used to all that walking on the station.”

She groaned. “You’re kidding, right? I’m happy to sit.”

They waited in the worker cafeteria line. There wasn’t a ton of choices, but the food was good and mostly healthy. Quinn was careful to thank each worker—their jobs were hard, boring and never-ending. They didn’t get the same amenities the “skilled” workers did, like plenty of rec room space or a workout area. Their dormitories were more crowded too, and while they ate in the same cafeteria, it was at different, less convenient times. Occasionally, she invited one of them to join her for games in a  rec room, but they always turned her down. Probably didn’t want the attention such a move would bring and she couldn’t blame them for that.

Food in hand, they found room at a table with other trainees and sat. “Old Earth vid night tonight. Superhero vids!” one of them announced. Cheers and groans rang out.

“Quinn, you have to come, you’ll love these,” Aurora told her.

She shrugged. “Sure, I’m not doing anything else.” If the flat vids were too boring, she could review some of her stolen vid while the movie played—it was safe enough when everyone else was engaged in a show. Quinn ate, sort of listening to the others chat about the vid and games. None of them talked about work—there were too many secrets to keep. She finished and put her tray in the autocleaner with everyone else.

“Come on, let’s go,” Aurora grabbed her hand.

“You’re really excited about this. You know you can watch these things anytime, right?”

Aurora frowned at her. “But that’s no fun. You need a big screen, snacks, people cheering, and yelling—that’s what makes movies fun.”

“Movies?”

“That’s the Old Earth name for the flat vids.”

“Huh.” Quinn considered Aurora. “So, you’re a historian?”

“No, just a big fan of Old Earth movies. Some of them are weird, some I don’t understand at all, some are just ridiculous, and they’re all terrible, visually, but the ideas are fun. Especially superheroes and the action thrillers. I could some of that in my life.”

“Couldn’t we all?” Quinn forced a chuckle.

They found seats and Aurora went for snacks and drinks. Once the vids started, Quinn found herself watching a couple of them intently. They had some pretty good storylines and a few great ideas for escape and evading notice. One particular flat vid showed the improbable adventures of a secret agent for some Old Earth government ruling a tiny island area. Such an odd idea, splitting up people by geography on a world, rather than by entire worlds or species, or in the case of Familia, type of business, but Quinn guessed if humans were all you knew and you didn’t have spaceflight, it kind of made sense. Whoever the agent worked for, his daring getaways and cool toys sparked her imagination, and the idea of hiding in plain sight under a fake name was intriguing.

Later that night in bed, she realized the concept of a secret persona was an excellent idea. By day, she could be meek, sweet little Quinn. At night, she could transform into…hmm, what would be a good superhero name for a net expert? Net Breaker Girl? No, she had to be a woman for this role, not a girl. The Secret Slider? The Sneaky Worm? The Trojan Horse? Quinn snorted. Those were ridiculous. She was making this too hard.

Her secret name was Q. That way, if she slipped and said it out loud, she could say it was her nickname at the Sisters. No, as a kid. No sense in spreading knowledge of the Sisters in general.

She snuggled in, smiling. Quinn to Familia, Q in secret. She might not build physical gadgets like the other Q they saw on vid tonight, but she built them on the net and she was smart. It was the perfect name.

#

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Quinn of Cygnus: Lift Off Copyright © 2020 by AM Scott. All Rights Reserved.

Quinn of Cygnus–Chapter Nine

This is an unedited draft. While the main story won’t change, you may find some awkward phrasing, typos, and some fine details will be missing. I’ll also be adding additional background for people who haven’t read the Folding Space Series.  I’ll publish a new chapter every week. Enjoy!

See Chapter One here.

Chapter Nine

Quinn bent over, gasping for air, and tried not to collapse. She imagined Instructor Switz saying, “Better, but not good enough.” It was true. She had to be faster and stronger than most competitors to compensate for her lack of height.

“You are very athletic, aren’t you?” Kathe said.

Quinn popped up so fast her head swam, but still automatically yanked her tight fitness shirt down. They were a little short in the body and tended to ride up. Her stomach poor stomach was scratched up from scraping over the obstacles.

“Careful.” Kathe shook her head disapprovingly. “You need to be aware of your surroundings at all times. Never rely on technology to keep you safe.”

“Yes, Mis—Kathe.”

“That’s Enforcer Kathe to you, Trainee Quinn,” a female voice said, the tone like ice on a methane moon.

“Fatima, I told her to use my name. Mind your own business.”

Now the woman appeared from behind Kathe. Justice Fatima. Quinn was in trouble now. She bowed, jerky with fear.

“This is my business. Workers use proper titles at all times, Mother.”

Sand fleas. Quinn did not want to be in the middle of a family dispute, especially one with Familia’s Justice, one of the most powerful humans in the universe. Quinn rose out of her bow and stepped back, using the argument to fade away.

“Where are you going?” Kathe snapped.

“I need to cool down, please,” Quinn said as humbly as she could with her heart rate and breathing thudding at double-time.

“Ah. Yes, of course. Please do so. Come, Fatima. We’ll leave Quinn to her training.” Kathe bustled away.

Fatima stared at Quinn, while Quinn stepped back slowly, carefully not looking Justice Fatima in the eyes. She was a predator. Challenging predators was a bad idea. They’d all learned that on Secundus. After what seemed like forever, Fatima turned and strode away. Quinn started to sag but stiffened immediately. You didn’t show weakness to a predator either.

Quinn walked around the extreme challenge apparatus. Once her heart rate slowed, she started stretching, but she didn’t use her full y’ga stretch routine. Showing that to the Justice didn’t seem wise, despite the fact it was already on vid if someone went looking. Eventually, her muscles loosened and her sweat dried.

As she left the Fitness Center, Quinn looked around, but Justice Fatima and her mother Kathe, by all the suns, were nowhere to be seen. Why would they stay here? The ship was theirs, along with everyone in it. If they wanted her, they’d call for her. Quinn jogged along the corridors of the ship, wanting a shower in the worst way. If she was getting a lecture or punishment, she wanted to be clean and dressed.

She’d expected Kathe—Enforcer Kathe—to show up and watch her train someday, but not immediately. For one, she wasn’t that good. Since arriving on Indomito, she’d failed to fully complete the standard course; she had to reduce the difficulty of several of the elements. All these months later, with good food and plenty of rest, even with the restrictions Medico Marcello insisted on, she should be matching or exceeding her previous records.

Instructor Switz remarked on her lack of performance and wanted her to speak with a sports mental coaching medico. But Quinn doubted one was available on Indomito. Familia didn’t seem like the kind of organization that encouraged success through anything but fear of failure.

Back in her compartment, Quinn relaxed a little, but she wasn’t safe anywhere on Indomito. As she showered, she wondered again: why did Enzo want her? There were quite a few women on this ship with her heritage; many were prettier than she was and probably more willing.

She impatiently washed her hair, regretting the time it took. No matter what she did to the Style-Net, it wouldn’t do more than trim her hair. She suspected someone, probably Enzo, wanted it long, even if she didn’t. It also wouldn’t let her dye her hair to anything but dark brown, which was so annoying. She wanted cool stripes like Aurora wore, but no, she was stuck with plain, boring dark brown. So boring. Her natural color of almost black was better, so she didn’t bother trying anymore.

She dressed in another dark gray shipsuit and her usual boots. What should she do now? Normally, she’d join one of the net games, or go to a lower level lounge with her fellow trainees, but she didn’t want to be around others if the Justice was going to call for her. She also didn’t want to waste her day off. Maybe just a walk through the garden level? Quinn bit her lip. Wait, she could go to the observation deck.

Before she consciously made the decision, she left her compartment and took the float tube to the upper levels of the gigantic ship. There, she made her way to the best part of Indomito. The center of this deck was covered with a thick layer of clear plas and multiple layers of shielding, so anyone could lay on a lounger and stare out into space. If there was an emergency, cerimetal blast door slammed into place, but who would be stupid enough to attack the Justice’s ship? Accidents were unlikely—asteroids and other space junk was blasted out of the way.

Quinn walked around the outside of the observation area, the part open to everyone. The inner part of the deck was separated into smaller areas, some containing ten or more lounges, some just one or two. The center areas were reserved for high-status people, like Enforcers and the ship’s officers. Quinn’s favorite lounge chair was on the outer ring, furthest from any of the entrances, and separated slightly from the other loungers as if a row had been removed at some point. She turned the corner and stopped.

Kathe waited on her lounger. When Quinn jolted to a halt, Kathe frowned and beckoned with an impatient finger.

Quinn started walking, carefully keeping her expression neutral. So much for relaxation.

“Join me, Quinn,” Enforcer Kathe said imperiously.

“Of course, Enforcer Kathe.” Quinn took a seat on the lounger next to her.

“Just Kathe when we’re alone. I really don’t enjoy titles being thrown at me.”

Quinn said nothing. Eaten by a giant lizard or giant bird, either one was dead.

“Never mind. My daughter is right, but I don’t have to like it.” Kathe scowled. “I watched your run this morning and compared it to one of the vids from Adzari Net Academy. You are slower. Why?”

“I haven’t fully recovered yet.” Quinn winced, remembering.

“Recovered from?”

“It’s in my records, but essentially, I almost starved to death.” Quinn tried to sound like she didn’t care, but she couldn’t fool herself. She sounded scared and desperate as if she was still there. She’d been here, safe, for two months. She should be over all this drama. The problem was, she knew she wasn’t safe on Indomito.

“I see.”

When Quinn looked at Kathe, she was busily swiping through screens. Quinn sagged a little before she caught herself. Why would Kathe care? Kathe was important, Quinn was nobody.

“There. Medico Marcello will ensure you see our mental health specialists. There is no reason you should continue to suffer the effects of abuse. Hmph. I can’t believe no one has seen to you before this. Unacceptable.”

“Thank you?”

“You are welcome.” Enforcer Kathe turned away for a moment. “I also have something for you. Here.” She held out an e-torc.

Quinn took it from her, gingerly.

“Go ahead, it won’t bite.” She chuckled. “The configuration is exactly the same as your current e-torc. The new one has enough memory and speed to do what you need to do.” Kathe frowned. “You have sufficient patience already, there’s no need to test it.”

Quinn pulled her old one off and put the new one on. Before she did anything else, she stood and bowed deeply to Kathe. “Thank you so very much, Enforcer Kathe. I appreciate this more than I can express.”

“You’re welcome. They have plenty of decent e-torcs, they’re just hoarding them for no reason. Typical supply people, they want their inventory safely on the shelves. They don’t understand good workers require good tools and decent support, not stupid harassment and power games. People who want to play power games should be far more subtle.” Kathe shook her head with a twisted frown on her face. “Play stupid games, lose.”

Wasn’t that phrase, “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes?” Well, Enforcer Kathe could do whatever she wanted, including changing common sayings. Quinn wanted to play with her new e-torc, but that would be terribly rude.

“Well, go ahead. Take it for a spin.” Kathe rose and held up a hand when Quinn jumped to her feet. “Relax, enjoy the view, play with your new e-torc. I have other things to do today. I will see you later.”

Quinn sank back down on the lounge and watched Kathe walk away. Kathe started slow, but sped up and was quickly out of sight. Quinn laid back on the lounger and stared up at space. Not much up there right now, but that was okay. A black background was perfect for reconfiguring an e-torc. She spun through the menus and settings, but Kathe was right. They’d cloned her old one perfectly on to this top of the line model. That was so nice of her.

Or was it? What did Kathe really want? Quinn had no idea.

#

Checking her calendar for the day’s activities, Quinn noticed she’d been on Indomito for six months. She felt stronger physically and mentally, but despite that, she couldn’t stop watching for traps, ready to squeeze in around her. Some days were worse than others; like today. Probably because of tonight’s big Familia anniversary—Quinn was ordered to attend. The Majordomo told her what to wear—a snug, stretchy, dark blue floor-length gown already in her closet.

Quinn grimaced. Initially, she thought it was modest, covering her completely, with long sleeves and a wide band around her neck. But the back was basically non-existent, and there was a huge, heart-shaped cutout in the front, displaying the ugly tattoo, and the heart’s point was cut too low, showing her underwear. She shuddered, remembering her first sight of the mark of ownership framed by the too-sexy dress. Why her? It was an unanswerable question.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Kathe demanded her company, so she still had a chance to get out of wearing the horrible thing. If she reached Kathe’s suite early, Kathe would insist she change into something more age-appropriate. Enzo wouldn’t publicly fight Kathe. But, was that a fight Kathe should take on? Quinn noticed Kathe tired quickly and the shadows under her eyes deepened daily despite the makeup she wore. Kathe insisted there was nothing wrong but Quinn knew better. Kathe was aging rapidly or ill. Or being poisoned. Or all of the above.

So, did she want Kathe to fight this battle? Or should Quinn embrace the pain? What could she do without offending Enzo? Quinn had no idea what he found attractive. He didn’t talk to her or watch her, at least not in person. If it wasn’t for his name on her body, she’d have no idea he was interested. Which might mean he wasn’t interested in little girls. Quinn bit her lip, considering her face and hair in the mirror.

What if she braided her hair on both sides, high on her head, and twisted the braids around themselves, forming a big knot on either side of her head? She’d look like a child playing dress-up.

Then she’d wear sparkly, light-pink lipstick and blush, which looked terrible on her skin and made her seem even more like a little girl trying to look like an adult. Then she’d wear a pair of flats with a sparkly bow on them to round out the impression.

That was all she could think of for now. Maybe something else would jell in her brain during the day. Quinn hoped so, because that look could backfire. There were a lot of sexual predators who found the sexualized little-girl look very attractive. She was betting everything on guesses, but it was all she had.

But right now, she had time reserved at the Fitness Center. Quinn pulled on her athletic gear and jogged up to the fitness facility. To her surprise, her normal compartment was modified into a public court with tiered chairs. Quinn looked at the stands. She didn’t even know they could do that!

“Ah, Quinn, there you are.” Fabriano bustled up to her. “I didn’t think you’d miss your training time. Good. Get warmed up, you need to go first.”

“What’s going on?”

Fabriano grinned, a big self-satisfied grin. “Oh, just a little friendly competition. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“I didn’t sign up for a competition!”

“I know. I designed one around you. You do the run, then everyone else’s scores get compared to yours. Anyone can bet on how much better or worse a score may be than yours.” He smirked. “I get a small cut of the action, of course.”

Quinn frowned and folded her arms. “And if I refuse to participate in this little scheme of yours?”

Fabriano snorted. “You won’t. Your life will be miserable.”

Quinn snorted back. “I’ve lived through miserable. You’re nothing. An empty threat.” Quinn turned away. “I’m not doing this. Non-sanctioned betting is illegal. I want nothing to do with it.”

Fabriano grabbed the back of her t-shirt. “Oh, yes, you are doing this,” he hissed in her ear. “No one’s going to know, I fixed the vids. You’ll do this or you and Aurora will start having a lot of problems. And I’ll take this.” He yanked the e-torc off her so hard it scraped her skin. Hopefully, it wasn’t bleeding.

She stomped on his foot and pulled away. “You’re an idiot. Did you not hear about this?” Quinn pulled up her shirt and pulled the front of her pants down just a little.

Fabriano stared, wide-eyed, and the color drained from his face. Security personnel entered, sending the would-be spectators and competitors running, but the hatches slammed shut. One of the black-armored people grabbed Fabriano’s arms and wrenched them behind his back. Fabriano dropped her e-torc, and Quinn took a chance, stooping to grab it before it was crushed. She looked up to see a stunner pointed at her, Fabriano sprawling to the side.

“That wasn’t smart, Trainee Quinn,” the armored man said.

“Sorry, I just didn’t want it crushed. I didn’t think how it would look to you.”

He holstered the stunner. “Think next time.”

“I’d rather there wasn’t a next time.”

“That would be best. You’re free to go. I recommend you stay in your compartment for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, sir.” Quinn walked as fast as she could without running. One of the security people opened the hatch for her, and she sprinted from there. Rather than suffering the slow, crowded lift tube, she took the stairs, jumping down them like they were part of the training course, and ran to her compartment, almost crashing into her bed.

Why did these things happen to her? Why did everyone think she was an idiot? Evidently, her efforts to look childlike were effective. Too effective. She rolled to her back and started breathing slow and easy, trying to calm herself. Fabriano would pay for his stupidity, but was he pulling others down with him? Fabriano wasn’t just another trainee, either, he was the son of someone important. None of this was her fault, but she was sure his family, maybe others, would blame her, regardless. Why did he decide to pull this level of stupidity today, of all days?

Maybe he’d gotten away with similar things before? He obviously didn’t know she was “special.” Now, everyone knew. She’d be a pariah again. All the friendships she’d developed were gone.

What an awful, horrible day. Quinn gave up on meditation and cried.

#

A remote brought her lunch, but it sat uneaten. Quinn knew she had to eat, but her stomach was too upset. Finally, she threw off her pity party, got out of bed, and ate. She forced it down quickly, not taking the time to taste the food. As she finished, she realized there wasn’t much taste—the meal was bland, but perfect for muscle recovery. Maybe someone on the cooking staff heard what happened? She was always nice to the cafeteria and cleaning staff—their job was difficult enough and they deserved a lot more than the basic human decency they rarely received.

By the time she finished eating, she felt better. She followed the meal with a gentle y’ga recovery and meditation routine and felt almost normal. Well, what passed for normal these days. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad. Fabriano wasn’t the most popular person—he used his family/Familia connections too much. Nobody trusted him. She’d known he was heavily involved in the underground betting schemes, but she hadn’t realized he was the leader. If Enforcers were participating, she might be in real trouble.

Except she wasn’t, because of the tattoo. Quinn would be protected and avoided. Only more so than before. With the security folks swooping in to “rescue” her, it was obvious they were watching her constantly. Quinn sighed. Little she could do about any of it except survive. And learn enough to escape. Despite the endless warnings to not exceed their assigned tasks and limits, Quinn was determined to learn everything she could.

Since she had access to all the learning modules, she’d started doing her fellow trainees’ lessons in the evenings while she simultaneously played net games. Since she stuck to the easiest games, she was able to split her attention enough to learn. She’d stumbled a few times in the games, earning a reputation as a poor player, which suited her fine. Being underestimated was good.

Usually. Obviously, Fab completely underestimated her.

Well, all this moping wasn’t doing any good. Quinn took a shower, did her hair and makeup, and shimmied into the poor excuse for a dress. Surveying herself in the mirror, she snorted. This thing didn’t do her any favors. To pull this off, she needed a curvy figure. Quinn was built like an active teenage boy; skinny muscles and hardly any shape. With her obvious heritage, Quinn doubted she’d ever be curvy. She looked a lot like Lightwave’s Katryn—tiny frame, gold-brown skin, wide-set, slightly tilted dark brown eyes and almost black hair with a bluish undertone. Katryn’s sex appeal came from her confidence and intensity, not her body shape. Quinn hoped she could learn how to pull off Katryn’s tricks, but on Indomito, that probably wasn’t smart.

If she looked too confident, Enzo would think she was happy about her position. But, if she was parading through Indomito in this ridiculous dress, she’d need every bit of surety and pride she had to survive. This thing clearly marked her as property. She wouldn’t allow anyone else to treat her that way. She was a person, an individual, not a thing or a remote.

Her hatch chimed, and she crossed the compartment to greet Enforcer Kathe. Why had she come down here?

“What are you wearing?” Kathe asked, her lip curling. “That’s horrendous.”

“What I was told to wear, Enforcer Kathe.”

Kathe pushed past her and marched into her sani-mod. “Who told you to wear that thing?”

“The majordomo, Enforcer Kathe. She messaged me directly, telling me the navy blue dress was appropriate.”

“If you were twenty-two and looking for a liaison, yes. Fourteen and a child, no.” Kathe was pulling out dresses and dropping them on the floor, each on accompanied by a sound of distaste or disgust. “None of these are suitable for your age. I don’t know what those people are thinking. Enzo isn’t a child molester.”

“Maybe one of the design team is,” Quinn muttered.

Kathe spun and scowled at her.

Quinn held up both hands. “My apologies, I spoke out of turn, Enforcer.”

“No, you didn’t. It’s an interesting thought.” She sniffed. “It could even be true. Or not.” A wry smile. “But I’ll find out.”

Great. More people who would hate her.

Kathe turned back to the pile of dresses. She stooped and pulled a particularly hideous sparkly silver shipsuit off the decking. Quinn hadn’t really looked at it. The first time she pulled it out, she’d almost dropped the thing because it was ridiculously heavy, with lots of silver chains all over it. “Ah hah. This will work.” Kathe pulled it off the hanger. “Get me a pair of scissors.”

Quinn tried to think of where she’d find such a thing. The laser on the Style Net?

“Never mind. Hold this,” Kathe said, handing her the silver monstrosity. “Hold it stretched out.”

Quinn did so and barely held herself in place when a long, thin knife appeared in Kathe’s hand, apparently out of nowhere.

“Excellent.” A few slices and Quinn was holding the remains of the jumpsuit. “Drop that mess on the floor with the rest of it. Junk. Nothing but junk.” Kathe handed her what appeared to be a wide belt made of fine silver chains. “Put that on.”

Quinn flipped it over, pulled the fasteners apart, and snapped it into place around her waist. The belt was a woven chains, resting on the top of her hipbones, with more chains draping below. It completely covered the cut-out on the dress, falling to her upper thighs. It was quite heavy, even though it was now apparent the material was plas of some sort, not metal. Thankfully, it didn’t ring like metal either. That would be annoying.

“Much better, although still not young enough for you.” Kathe motioned. “Turn.” She harrumphed. “Thank the big black hole of Andromeda the belt isn’t made of big chains, or you’d look like something else entirely. Pick that thing back up.” Her finger pointed down.

Quinn stooped to get the shredded silver suit.

“Just the top.”

Quinn held it out by the shoulders.

“Turn it around…yes. That will work.” A few more slices and Kathe held a wide circle of chains. She dropped it over Quinn’s head, on her shoulders. “Not bad. Turn.”

Quinn did, the odd necklace heavy on her shoulders.

“Yes. It covers down to your shoulder blades, and the belt covers your waist. Much better.” Kathe grabbed her waist and turned her around again. “Yes, garish, but modest. Much better. Let’s go.” She pushed her around again and out of the sani-mod, through her compartment and out the hatch. Kathe towed her down the corridor and up the lift tube to the Justice’s level.

Quinn had never been on this level. She never wanted to be on this level. But she had no choice. She followed Kathe into a small area with a closed hatch, two armored guards waiting. One motioned and the hatch slid open. Quinn followed Enforcer Kathe inside. The hatch slid shut behind them—they were in an airlock. A luxury airlock—was that real wood on the walls?—but still an airlock. Interesting. After a few seconds, the next hatch slid open.

A woman in a severe black shipsuit bowed low. “Welcome, Enforcer Kathe. Thank you for bringing Trainee Quinn. But what is she wearing? This is…” the woman’s face wrinkled like she’d eaten something awful, “bright. This was supposed to be a sophisticated dark blue dress.”

“Your idea of sophisticated and mine are far different. Below all that silver, the dress shows too much skin. It is too sexy for a young girl.” Kathe said, her tone slightly menacing.

“It is? It’s supposed to be modest.” The woman’s lips clamped together momentarily. “Unacceptable. I will fix this, Enforcer.”

“All her formalwear is unacceptable. Fix all of it. And fix the idiot who thought dressing a little girl in sex worker clothes was a good idea.”

“Yes, right away, Enforcer. Aperitifs are almost finished. You may go straight to dinner, Enforcer.”

“Good.”

Quinn followed Kathe through a large compartment filled with luxurious soft seating areas in charcoal and maroon, surrounding low wood tables. Taller tables waited around the perimeter with a few stools. It looked expensive. Smelled expensive too, a faint, pleasant scent of citrus and cinnamon.

The next compartment was a dining area. About twenty people, all with the Familia look, stood around a massive, dark brown wood table, with matching cabinets along the sides of the compartment. The people were older than her by ten or more years, with an equal number of males and females. Most of the women wore long, tight, jewel-toned dresses and the men fancier versions of their daily pin-stripe shipsuits. So, the whole table was probably Enforcers other than her. Won’t this be fun.

On the table, silver candlesticks with candles, real flames flickering, long, low floral centerpieces, and cream-colored china plates with gold and maroon patterns. There were also several wine glasses and lots of heavy silver utensils at each setting. Chandeliers sparkled above them and the walls were a deep burgundy red. The scent of roasted meat and baking bread hung in the air. Wow. This was really something.

“Quinn, you are there,” Kathe pointed at a seat on the other side. “I’m across from you.”

“Thank you, Enforcer Kathe.” She rounded the end of the table, the chair empty. Quinn started to sit, then noticed everyone else was standing. She waited patiently, despite the side glances from the rest of the diners.

The man standing to her left turned to her. “Well, hello. Who are you?”

She looked up, way up. He was tall and very thin. “I’m Net Trainee Quinn Cygnus. Pleased to meet you.” She bowed, unsure how deep to go.

“Ah. I see. I’m Corto. I am also pleased to meet you, Quinn Cygnus. Across the table, next to the lovely Kathe, is Trevi.”

“We’ve met, Corto.” Trevi surveyed Corto like she’d found something on the bottom of her shoe. “I retrieved Quinn from her school.”

“Ah, my memory. So terrible.” Corto shrugged one shoulder and tossed his head.

“Oh, yes. So awful.” Trevi said dryly.

The hatch at the other end of the room opened and a man and a woman entered. The woman was Justice Fatima. She wasn’t pretty, but she was still somehow beautiful, with the typical olive skin and espresso brown hair of Familia. She looked quite young, but Quinn knew body mods were easy to get in most parts of the universe. Probably right here on this ship, if you were an enforcer. The man also looked young, with the Familia resemblance, but Quinn knew she didn’t want to cross him. Head Enforcer Enzo was dangerous. He trod down the table, his eyes fastened on her. Quinn held herself stiffly to hold back a shiver and stared at his chin.

After Enzo reached the seat next to hers, he looked away, at Justice Fatima. A man dressed in a plain black shipsuit, evidently a server, pulled out Fatima’s chair and pushed it in behind her. The other men at the table did the same, Corto pulling hers out. It seemed very awkward to her, but everyone else seemed to manage just fine.

“Well, Quinn, we finally meet in person.” The man at the foot of the table said to her. “I am Head Enforcer Enzo.”

She lowered her upper body as far as she could without hitting the table. “I am pleased to meet you, Head Enforcer Enzo.”

“Good. I see they failed to follow my directions.” He frowned as he scanned her from head to toe and back.

“Enzo, I’m fixing it,” Kathe said imperiously. “They dressed her like a strafiga, not a little girl. Disgusting.”

“She’s not a little girl, Kathe,” Enzo said. “She’s a teenager.”

“Hmph. Barely.”

“She has a little girl body,” Trevi said. “She should wear clothes that make the most of what she’s got.” She shimmied, the thin straps on her tight red gown almost falling off her shoulders.

“She will not dress like a puttana,” Kathe growled.

“Of course not, Kathe. But she will wear whatever I want,” Enzo said, very slowly.

Kathe just stared at him. Neither looked away until the woman at the head of the table spoke.

“Gentles, let us eat!”

Servers rushed in, bearing pitchers, trays, and bottles. Water and wine poured into her glasses, a small plate set in front of her, another above. The one above had a tiny loaf of white bread, with a rosette of butter flecked with green herbs, and the one in front of her appeared to be…something in a red sauce.

While she was examining it, one of the servers asked her, “Parmesan, Mistress?”

Quinn glanced around; most were accepting some. “Yes, please, and thank you.”

The woman used a small grater with a block of something in a napkin, sprinkling little bits of something a light yellow over the red sauce. “Would you like more, Mistress?”

“No, thank you.”

Thankful Loreli had taught her formal dinner manners, Quinn picked up the small fork on the outside and slid the tines through the sauce, picking up some sort of meat? She ate it, tasting salt, and smoky oil in a small fillet of some sort of fish. The sprinkles tasted like an aged cheese. The dish was okay, but not her favorite, so she left the rest. With the number of utensils around her plate, this was a big, elaborate dinner, and sure to have too much food for her, so leaving some behind was a good idea.

Her plate was removed, and another plate with a salad of multi-colored leaves, ribbons of dark, slightly purplish brown dressing layered over it, and small cubes of dried bread on top. Colorful bits of what she assumed were vegetables were also sprinkled in. She forked up a bite, enjoying the crunch of the veggies and the tangy but sweet dressing.

During this course, Quinn shot glances at her fellow diners. Many of them engaged in quiet conversations but some just ate. Enzo appeared to be one of the “concentrate on the food” types; Kathe spoke quietly with Trevi. No one spoke across the table. Since Quinn had nothing to say to Enzo or Corto, she stayed quiet, and kept reminding herself to relax her shoulders—they kept rising to her ears.

Everyone at the table drank their wine, each course a new and different wine, but Quinn refrained. She didn’t like wine and she did not need to lower her guard.

A pasta course followed, this one in a bright green sauce, then one with breaded and fried poultry, and one with some sort of red meat. Another red-sauced pasta course, then a small dish of something icy, slightly sweet and lemony. She took a bite or two of everything, but with all this food, anything more and she’d be stuffed to the point of pain.

At this point, Enzo and Kathe started a conversation that escalated into heated hissing, but never got loud enough for Quinn to fully hear. Trevi appeared to add fuel to the fire with comments to Kathe, while Corto watched avidly.

Finally, they reached the end of the meal. Or Quinn hoped that’s what the last utensil, a dainty spoon, meant. A tall, fluted glass with a pedestal was placed in front of her, bright, colorful layers interspersed with creamy white and spongy yellow.

“Coffee or tea?” the server murmured.

“Neither, thank you.”

“You don’t drink anything but water?” Corto asked, his nose wrinkling.

“No. I’m an athlete.”

“Oh, yes. The unpleasantness.” He sniffed. “Terrible.”

“I didn’t know anything about any of that,” Quinn told him, very quietly. “Fabriano didn’t ask me.”

“Shh. No names,” Corto whispered back.

Quinn nodded her thanks and spooned up some of the desert to avoid saying anything else stupid. Sweet fruit, fluffy creamy stuff, and light cake combined into a delicious whole. She didn’t have to work at eating this one—it was wonderful.

The other courses weren’t bad, just different. The heavy sauces covered the taste of the ingredients. The texture seemed odd to her too, smooth and oily, but she wasn’t used to fine dining. Plain food was good enough for her. Except for this desert—she could happily eat this every day for the rest of her life. Quinn scraped the bottom of the glass and sighed.

Kathe chuckled. “Would you like mine?”

Quinn’s cheeks felt like she’d spent an hour in Cygnus Gliese’s noon sun. “No, please go ahead. It was delicious.”

Enzo twitched a finger and a server placed another glass in front of her. “Go ahead, Quinn. Enjoy.”

Quinn swallowed hard, not sure she could eat. She looked at his chin. “Thank you, Head Enforcer Enzo.” She took a spoonful, intensely aware of his eyes on her, trying not to feel like a mouse freezing when the shadow of an air hunter swept over. She ate steadily and hoped it would stay down, but her stomach churned uneasily. She finished, and feeling his eyes still on her said, “Thank you, Head Enforcer Enzo, it was delicious.” Then she sat back and stared into the distance, carefully not meeting anyone’s eyes.

Applause started and Quinn jumped a little. She turned to look at what everyone else was looking at, and clapped too, not wanting to draw attention to herself. A man, slightly heavyset, dressed in white stood there. This must be the Chef. He bowed deeply, turned, and exited through what Quinn assumed was the kitchen hatch.

“Gentles, let us return to the gathering room,” Justice Fatima said.

Everyone stood, and Quinn scrambled to her feet, jumping a little when her chair was pulled away. Corto smiled and nodded toward the foot of the table. Quinn followed his gaze to find Enzo waiting, his arm crooked. Quinn swallowed, and slid her hand around his elbow, resting it on his forearm, as she saw some of the other women do. It wasn’t comfortable—her skin practically shrank from the contact and Enzo’s height pulled her arm uncomfortably high. She held back a shudder. He led her to the couches in the very center of the room and motioned for her to sit on one end of a short couch. He sat next to her, taking her hand between his.

Quinn clamped a closed-lip smile on her face and somehow managed to not pull her hand away. She couldn’t show emotion, especially fear, but she felt trapped.

“You need to grow up,” Enzo stated.

Quinn blinked at him, accidentally meeting his beady eyes, unsure what to say to such a strange statement.

“Enzo, she’s a little girl,” Enforcer Kathe said, taking a seat across from them. “She’s fourteen standard years old. She’ll be grown up in about three years. You should have left her at the Academy.”

Enzo flicked a derisive look at Kathe. “She’s not fourteen, her medical records show it.” His hand clamped down on hers.

“Did you notice the part about her being almost starved to death? No matter what her true age is, her body will need time to recover. It’s clear in her athletic performance that she hasn’t.”

Enzo’s eyes narrowed. “And that’s why it’s stopping, today.”

“What?! Stop? Why?” Quinn exclaimed, unable to help herself.

Enzo turned his glare on her, flinging her hand away. “Yes, it stops. No more extreme competitions. Your body needs time to heal and mature. I spoke with the medicos. High-level training can delay proper growth. I will not have this. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Head Enforcer Enzo.” Q dropped her eyes to the floor. The only thing keeping her sane, the one thing she looked forward to, was gone. Taken by these evil people, just like everything else.

“You may continue mild exercise. Healthy exercise. The medico staff will prescribe it. You will follow the prescription precisely. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Head Enforcer Enzo.”

“Good. You are excused. Return to your compartment.”

Thank the Mother for small—and big—favors. Quinn rose, bowed, and walked away as quickly as she could in the ridiculous dress.

“Well, at least she’s obedient,” Enzo said behind her. Quinn slowed a little. “Kathe, if you want to mentor the girl, fine, but she must grow into a woman. Little girl bodies are not attractive. She will grow into an obedient and lovely woman, capisce?”

“That’s all I’m trying to do, Enzo.”

Their voices faded as she neared the airlock. The severely dressed woman still stood there. Was that her job? To wait at hatches and greet people? Maybe Quinn’s life wasn’t so bad after all.

“Trainee Quinn, you will have new formal wear later this week.” Her lip curled. “Don’t wear this again.” She flicked a hand up and down in front of Quinn’s body. “And color your hair brown. The color is programmed in the Style-Net already.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“It’s Majordomo.”

“Yes, Majordomo. Thank you, Majordomo,” she scampered past the woman and into the airlock. It closed behind her with an ominous thud, then the next hatch opened. She was free of the pit of sand vipers. For now.

Strolling to her compartment, Quinn pondered. She’d escaped this time, but what about the next? And the one after that? She was on a folder in space controlled by some of the most important people in Familia. There were only so many places she could go and nowhere to hide. And the next steps in her unwilling transformation had started—no more competitive sports and forcing her to change her hair color. He’d make her do body mods next. She shuddered. Why her? Why not someone already built in the Familia mode? It made no sense to her.

But it did to Enzo and that was all that counted on this ship.

Quinn entered her compartment and sani-mod, stripped off the ugly outfit, and threw it all in the recycler. She noticed someone had already hung all the formal clothes back up except the shredded silver jumpsuit—it was gone. She put on some comfortable athletic wear and collapsed into her lounge chair, burying her head in her hands. But she wasn’t going to cry. No, she’d save the tears for public performances only.

She had to escape, but how? The only way off this folder was on a shuttle. She could research shuttle schedules and manifests and maybe find a way to hide on one, but she was pretty sure they were inspected before leaving and guarded while docked. She could study piloting, but she’d probably get caught. Piloting a shuttle wasn’t that hard, though, with autopilots. It was getting a shuttle, with permission to fly away from Indomito, and then getting away to someplace big enough to get lost in that was the problem. So, she didn’t need to study piloting, she needed to study who flew regularly and why. Which might not be so hard. She’d noticed the shuttles from the observation deck; basic information about each shuttle was publicly available unless they were Enforcers, just like it was for other folders, stations, planets, and the occasional comet.

Then she’d have to study comms, and how to fake the comms between the shuttle and Indomito and the stations and planets. Or convince a pilot to take her somewhere? Hmm. Maybe those awful dresses would come in handy after all.

Quinn nodded to herself. Assuming she could convince a pilot to take her to a station, then she’d have to break into the station’s surveillance and make sure she wasn’t seen. So, she had to learn to do that first; she’d already started learning how to do break into nets as part of the net maintenance courses, but she had to become a real expert. She also had to break into Indomito’s surveillance and loop a vid of her in her compartment. She’d have to start planting those doctored vids on real net techs, not just her fellow trainees. This would be difficult because she didn’t have access to those nets, workstations, and compartments. Or she’d have to find a way in through the net, which she didn’t quite have the skills to pull off yet either. Quinn bit her lip. At this rate, her lip would start bleeding soon.

Then she had to steal and/or break into someone’s e-torc to get credits to buy passage on another shuttle to another folder, far away. She couldn’t go back to Cygnus Secundus. She’d have to find a job somewhere else. Fortunately, good net technicians were always needed. She could find some fringe world with no records, similar to Cygnus Secundus, and get lost.

Hmm, maybe not quite that fringe. Not enough people to hide in. Someplace outside the core, but not fringe. There had to be plenty of worlds like that. But she couldn’t openly research that either because her search history was undoubtedly monitored.

She’d need weapons, too. She never wanted to be caught again. She had to be ready to fight off anyone and everyone. Quinn played the first-person shooter games just to keep her skills sharp—back on Secundus, fighting off predators was a never-ending chore—but she could learn the strategy and tactics games too.

In short, she had to become Katryn, Lightwave’s net Security chief, and y’ga expert. So, Katryn she’d become, no matter what it took. Quinn would do this and she would escape. There was no room for doubt.

#

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Preorder links for Quantum Fold Book 1 Quinn of Cygnus: Lift Off

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2EMKxkU
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w?ean=2940162727729
Universal:  https://books2read.com/u/3nWyvB
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/quinn-of-cygnus-lift-off
Smash: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1036750

Quinn of Cygnus Copyright © 2020 by AM Scott. All Rights Reserved.

Insomnia, Cooking and Russia

Sometimes, I just can’t sleep. That doesn’t happen as much these days–when I was still in the USAF, I used to keep a notebook by my bed and write down what was worrying me so I could go back to sleep. Now, I’m just older and it’s harder to sleep. So, you get a blog post about what I cooked last night, in an extremely rambling, roundabout way.

The Amazing Sleeping Man (ASM) is a big WWII history fan and lately, we’ve been watching a Russian TV Series called The Attackers. It’s a drama about WWII Russian fighter pilots. It’s fairly well-written for a basic TV show, and they pay attention to details, like the fact that Russians didn’t wear socks–they wore cloths wrapped around their feet. I had no idea. For someone who started her military career during the Cold War, I know very little about Russia or its history as part of the Soviet Union.

BTW, the part of the show that isn’t well done? The subtitles–the translations are hilarious! What I’m assuming is the command “Dismissed!” is translated as “You may be free!” I’m guessing someone ran the script through Google Translate and called it good. It’s still a surprisingly addictive show.

Back in January, The ASM was already worrying about COVID, because he’s a world news junkie. So, he bought us half a cow, which is a lot of meat, especially for two people. In the summer, it’s hard to cook sometimes, because it’s just too hot. But with COVID, we’ve stopped going out, so if I want something other than sandwiches or cereal, I’m cooking. Therefore, I’m always looking for new recipes.

I’m a big fan of Ilona Andrews–the Innkeeper Series, which they originally posted on their blog as a serial, inspired me to post Quinn of Cygnus: Lift Off on my blog. Anyway, Ilona, who is from Russia, posted a recipe the other day for Bulgogi, a Korean beef dish and Morcovcha, a Korean/Russian carrot salad. Until I read the post, I didn’t realize Koreans had emigrated to Russia in large enough numbers to bring their cuisine along. See the comment above about my ignorance!

I’m happy to report the Bulgogi is delicious, and tastes just like the Bulgogi I ate in Korea when I was there for a military exercise way back in the late ’90s. In addition, it uses chuck roast, something I have a lot of in my freezer right now. I’m not as happy, but not surprised to report The ASM still doesn’t like carrots! I do, and I like the Morcovcha a lot, although I think next time, I’ll try the dressing on cabbage. I will also leave the onions out of the Morcovcha and instead, fry those up after I finish cooking the beef, then add the onions to the beef so the ASM gets some veggies with his meat.

If you want to try Bulgogi, a few cooking notes for you. In an attempt to keep our house cool, I tried to cook this outside on my gas grill. Unfortunately, the burners on the grill just don’t get hot enough to do a decent stir-fry.  I tried pulling the cooking grates off one section and putting my wok directly over the grill burner, but that didn’t work either. What did work? Burning one of the sections on my gas grill on low to cook the quinoa (rather than rice as called for,) and keep the beef warm as I cooked it in small batches. That worked like a charm. So, make sure you’ve got a hot burner and a good stir-fry pan. I might try this with cast iron next time instead of my non-stick wok. Also, I didn’t have any mirin, so I used sake in the marinade instead, and it still tasted authentic to my uneducated palate.

So, to wrap up this rambling post, we ate Russian-style Bulgogi and Morcovcha while watching a Russian docu-drama about fighter pilots and it was delicious!

Something else I did yesterday? Finally put Quinn of Cygnus: Lift Off, Book 1 of Quantum Fold, up for preorder. I don’t have all the links yet, but here’s the ones I do:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2EMKxkU

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w?ean=2940162727729

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/quinn-of-cygnus-lift-off

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1036750

Universal Link for all other stores:  https://books2read.com/u/3nWyvB

Have a great day and give Bulgogi and Morcovcha a try!

 

(The Amazon and Google links are affiliate links–I get a few extra $ that way.)