Daughter of Mars #82 | (Tempting Fate Part 1)
Araphel – Chapter 6 – Tempting Fate
Risa kept her head down, posed as if paying attention to the animated spacemen on the datapad mounted to the shuttle seat in front of her. The video presented a tourist’s first introduction to Mars, though she’d muted the sound as soon as it started. CamNano cyberware had changed her hair a soft brown, and added an Earthling’s tan to her skin. She bristled at the futility of it. As much as she tried to act like a tourist, anyone who got a good look at her face would recognize her eyes. There’s gotta be less than forty people on Mars with this model, and I’m sure most are men. She adjusted her spur-of-the-moment sunglasses, though lenses dark enough to hide the violet glow would leave her unable to see.
Yeah, sunglasses on Mars don’t look suspicious at all. She glanced at the window as a man shuffled down the aisle past her seat. Why is it always the ‘easy’ jobs that scare me the most?
Maris’s ‘easy job’ entailed tapping a fiber splice in Arcadia City. The mention of ‘fiber splice’ brought back a trace of adrenaline at the memory of her escort run with Tamashī. Getting to a fiber main and rigging a listener was as simple as missions could come. Without an active deck jockey going into a network to stir up trouble, it was nigh undetectable. There’s always a complication. Maris wanted her to tap a junction box in the corner of a public square. Not even underground. On the surface. Out in the open.
“Think you can do it?” he’d asked.
She hadn’t cared much this time. No one would die, and Maris seemed willing to help her get some payback for Pavo. If she got arrested, oh well… Kree deserves better.
The flight from Elysium took her over the sparsely settled plain of Utopia before crossing Panchaia as they skirted the North Pole. Her left-side seat offered a view of the distant polar ice cap, a shimmery glow of reflected sunlight along the horizon. The tourist panel beeped when they entered airspace over Scandia, where the UCF had gathered most of their mining efforts. She frowned at screen after screen of beaming, happy colonists posed by digging equipment, living in pristine residence pods, or standing outside in the ‘breathable engineered atmosphere.’
Turbulence rattled the shuttle, an effect of the dense terraforming employed in the region around Arcadia. She dropped the datapad in its holder and waited for landing. Thirty-nine minutes after takeoff, the shuttle touched down at the commercial starport. After a preparatory breath, she sprang from her seat, acting the tourist, and jostled with the crowd on her way down the boarding tunnel. For good measure, she played with a glowing plasfilm pamphlet displaying a map of the city, highlighting popular visitor attractions.
She got in line at the security checkpoint waiting for passengers ahead of her to shuffle in single file through a scanner station. When her turn came, she walked along a dim grey tunnel with glowing blue walls. At the far end, she stopped by a desk where a young man in a drab crimson MDF jumpsuit stood behind a terminal. A black buzz-cut reminded her of Pavo, his hair little more than a stain on his lily-white scalp. Private rank insignia adorned his shoulders and chest next to the name “Umbris, T” stitched in black thread.
“Welcome to Arcadia, Miss Somers.”
“Oh, you can call me Lauren.” Risa giggled. “Thanks, it’s my first time.”
He looked at her and cocked an eyebrow. “Nishihama Oracles. Odd choice for an archaeology student. Usually only see those on military personnel with a couple of years in.”
She waved her hand about in a random, flopping manner. “Oh, eyes that look like eyes are so lame. I mean, what’s the point of getting cybernetics if you just look like everyone normal. I figured if I was born blind I might as well make the most of it.”
Private Umbris chuckled. “Name’s Tyg. It sounds like fridge, but I’m not cold.”
“Cute name.” She smiled and clenched her jaw. Damn these eyes.
Tyg looked left and right before leaning over the counter and whispering. “I don’t want to scare you, Miss. You should be careful. We’re looking for a terrorist about your age and build with the same model cybernetic eyes.”
“How awful.” She covered her mouth with one hand. This kid is either oblivious or he’s trying to warn me.
“Did you bring any fruits, vegetables, or other biological material from Earth?” Tyg poked a few buttons on his holo terminal.
“Do I have to go through this again? I had to answer all these questions at Elysium when I landed two days ago.”
“Sorry.” He shrugged.
“No. I didn’t even bring luggage since RedLink loses it every damn time. Daddy’s got me an apartment and I’m just going to have ‘Mars clothes’ and leave them here when I go home on break.”
“Yeah, sometimes I think the baggage bots are possessed and pack things at random.” He swiped his hand through the screen, and raised an eyebrow. “Those claws of yours work on rock?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She pulled her long coat tight around her chest. “I got them for self-defense. I hear there’s a personal security problem on Mars for young women. Too many gangs, not enough police. If someone jumps me, I’m going to be holding something dear to them in my hand before I die.”
Every man in the line behind her―and Tyg―cringed.
“Arcadia City isn’t like the sub-Ts. There’s plenty of us out there, Miss Somers. Though, there are some more dangerous areas, but something tells me you’re not the type of woman to go wandering around the southeast sectors.”
“Oh, if it’s a bad area… no. I’d be too scared.” Risa shivered. “I’m not looking for trouble, but if it finds me I’m… probably going to scream like a little girl anyway.”
Tyg waved her through. “Have a nice stay and good luck with your classes.”
Her vapid smile fell flat once he couldn’t see her face anymore. If that kid ever realizes who I am he’s going to kick himself. Free of the security zone, she navigated the public areas of the terminal on her way to the tram leading to the city. After ten minutes of standing around on a platform, a blast of wind preceded the arrival of a small maglev tram. Four cylindrical cars, like huge synthbeer canisters joined end to end, slipped in with little more noise than a soft pneumatic foomp as it exited the tunnel. She boarded the nearest car and sat in the first seat she could reach.
A moment later, the motion bob of the accelerating tram lifted her gaze. Four rows ahead and on the other side of the aisle, a thin tween girl with a platinum blonde bob stared at her. Deep, sapphire blue eyes fixed on Risa, and a trace of a smile formed. The girl’s peach-colored, long-sleeved top clung to her flat chest, revealing the contour of every rib. Numerous small rips marred her black leggings, stretched thin over her knees. Embedded lights flashed in the soles of her pink Gee-90 sneakers, which appeared brand new. Dirt on the rest of her hinted at street waif, though her eerie, purposeful stare was anything but pleading.
Risa couldn’t help but stare. The girl’s disconcerting smile broadened as she raised a hand and waved with her fingers. She was too far away to speak to without shouting, though Risa felt the need to return the wave.
Despite the distance, the girl whispered, “See you soon.”
A thick-armed man in a business suit of iridescent blue shuffled down the aisle. In the split second he blocked her view, the girl vanished. Risa prairie-dogged up in her seat, looking from one end of the car to the other. No trace of the kid remained, nor did anyone seem to be reacting to someone moving. She gripped a handle on the seatback in front of her, and pulled herself upright. After another glance around, she crept down the aisle to the seat where the girl had been.
Her eyes’ thermal mode revealed a small red blob on the cushion of the aisle seat, about the size of where a child that big would’ve been sitting. Risa stepped past it and fell into the next open space, in case she had somehow just gone invisible.
Not in half a second. Optical cloaking doesn’t work through clothes… and no one installs that in children anyway. She debated if she’d really been able to hear the girl whisper from four rows away, or if she’d finally reached the point where her mind cracked. Hallucination was a tempting through, but hallucinations don’t leave heat imprints. A fact she confirmed with a hand on the cushion.
“I’m losing it.”
Risa remained there, gaze locked on her lap, until the tram passed through the city dome and came to a stop at a platform. She hesitated at the door, ignoring the people pushing past her, and stared at the seat. Was that a ghost? Seeing nothing appear, she joined the throng of people and followed them through the main terminal to the exit where dozens of PubTran taxi terminals lined the street at the bottom of a moving stairway. After riding it to the street level, she poked a call button and waited a few minutes until a boxy teal and grey car squeaked to a halt in front of her. The side door opened to reveal two facing seats, covered by thin grey cloth bearing a repeating pattern of teal squares. She ducked the awning-like door and settled down amid the eye-watering strong smell of artificial pine.
She knocked on the hard plastic. “Why do they even bother putting fabric on these seats?”
“Thank you for choosing PubTran. Please state your destination,” said a placid male voice.
“Sector 37 please. Arcadia Estates.”
“Your destination fee is twenty one credits. Your chosen location is not listed as high risk of a violence event. Please wave your NetMini past the terminal for account identification or insert credit stick with balance sufficient.”
Risa fished the device out and waved it past a console in the center of the left wall. The car emitted a pleased chirp, closed the door, and pulled out into traffic with a jerky left-right swerve that forced her to grab the walls. The strange child haunted her thoughts as the little box-on-wheels drove for fourteen minutes. A sudden stop under the awning of a smoky grey skyscraper modeled in the shape of a chunk of volcanic glass startled her back to reality. Holographic gold letters floated over the door, identifying it as the Arcadia Estates Hotel.
“Thank you for choosing PubTran for your transportation needs.” The door hissed open. “We have arrived at your destination.”
She ducked out of the cab and hurried through the doors to the elevator. Maris had already arranged her room on the third floor. The young man and woman behind the counter offered her pleasant smiles, but did not speak. After a brief elevator ride, she checked a note file on her NetMini to verify the room number. A red square on the wall next to 3-8 turned green when she approached, and opened at a wave of her hand.
The everpresent clock in the corner of her vision read 20:14 [Arcadia]. Crossing the pole had shifted time forward almost twelve hours, but she’d arrived almost thirty minutes ahead of schedule. Risa set the medium sized purse on the cabinet by the holo-bar, peeled off her long coat, and draped it over a chair. She squatted to undo the fasteners on her boots and stepped out of them. The cool, textured rug felt like walking on a foot massage as she crossed to the window to close the silver, vertical blinds.
With the room dark, she slipped out of her armored bodysuit and bundled it up. Between a pair of twin beds, a courtesy safe presented the perfect place to store a million credits worth of body armor. If something goes wrong, I hope Maris will send someone to grab this.
The rubbery material, thick gel sandwiched between the outer layers, squished between her fingers as she kneaded it as compact as possible. It still mystified her how it could harden upon the impact of a bullet fast enough to catch it. Since she’d gotten the ballistic stealth suit, it had become her second skin. Garrison was right. This is my security blanket. She tucked it in the small, armored space and pushed the door closed. A yellow display panel popped up.
Text appeared on the screen: “Swipe NetMini or ImDent to lock. Service fee: 5 credits.”
“Dammit.”
She jogged to the counter to grab the ‘mini, using it to place an order for a cheap black shift dress she wouldn’t care about losing on her way back to the safe. With that done, and the safe secured, she left the ‘mini on the nightstand and curled up on her side atop the bed. Being naked in a hotel room made her think of Pavo. The bathroom door faced the foot of her bed, partially obscuring an autoshower tube. This room has the same layout. She wiped her eyes, laughing as she cried. I guess they all do. Cheaper that way.
Safe behind a locked door, she finally allowed herself to feel his loss. After gathering a pillow to her chest, she buried her face in it and bawled. As a child, she hadn’t cried over her father’s death. Witnessing him die had surrounded the entire event in too much terror. She had gone beyond sad to shell-shocked. By the time the fear wore off, anger had devoured any sadness.
Her mourning lessened the third time her NetMini emitted a shrill alarm-klaxon noise. She rolled onto her back, sniffling. Flashing lights leaked through the gaps in the vertical blinds. Something metal tapped on glass.
“Oh, shit.”
She ran to the patio door to accept the delivery bot. No sooner had she opened the glass and seen the hovering robot did she remember Pavo’s comment about hackers skimming them for nudie images. Blubbering like an idiot, she snatched her goods from the open chamber and backed into the room.
The rectangular flying box tilted to the side, mimicking a dog concerned for its master.
Holo panels erupted around it offering everything from contacting the MDF to suicide prevention lines, grief counselors, rape advocates, and two thinly disguised hit men.
“I’m fine, thanks.” She shut the door.
She tossed the packaged dress on the untouched bed and flopped face down over her crying pillow. The scratchy fabric on her skin and the faint scent of hotel air freshener all took her back to the last time Pavo had touched her. A daydream of him behind her, squeezing her wrists, pushing her face into the mattress with each thrust, left her breathing heavy. He hadn’t been her first lover, but he was the only one she could remember with total clarity. Was I seventeen or sixteen? What the hell was his name?
Angry ‘I’m gonna die at any minute’ Risa wanted to experience sex before she bought the farm, and the safehouse had no shortage of men. Finding one willing to risk screwing the girl who was essentially Garrison’s daughter had been more of a challenge.
I never thought I’d live long enough to love. She curled in a tight ball with the pillow trapped between her thighs and chest and cried until she couldn’t shed another tear.
“Raziel, why did you let him die?” Risa rolled flat on her back, clutching the damp pillow to her chest. “You told me to trust him. Why didn’t you help?”
Silence.
The time display flicking from one number to the next attracted her notice to 20:44. Almost time. She pushed the pillow aside and rolled off the bed to her feet, heading for the bathroom. Automatic lights saturated white tiles with a blinding glow. The electric floor warmed in seconds. Risa leaned her hands on either side of the sink and stared at herself in the mirror until her despair at losing Pavo fermented to anger at those responsible.
One minute later, a chime emanated from the panel by the door, followed by an automated female voice. “Room service.”
“Coming.” She jogged to the untouched bed, tore open the plastic package and pulled the dress on over her head, still tugging it into place when she hit the button to open the door.
A sleepy looking teenaged boy in a sharp red suit bearing the Arcadia Estates logo on the breast pocket gave her a head-to-toe look. He gestured at a pushcart, which he wheeled in when she backed up. After leaving it in the room, he hurried out before she could lay a hand on her NetMini to offer a tip.
Risa glanced at the small plastic-covered plate bearing an ordinary turkey sandwich. Steam and melted cheese gave away that it had been heated. She squatted and pulled the tablecloth up, to check the lower shelf, finding a large plastic bin full of combination salt/pepper packets. She rummaged through the confetti, and smiled when her fingers made contact with cool metal. A six-inch cube lay buried inside along with a flexible mesh pouch of tools. She dug them out, brushed a fine dusting of pepper from the top, and opened the case.
Inside a copious amount of foam padding, lay the fiber tap.
“Nothing’s ever run this smooth.” She snapped the box closed, resisting the urge to sneeze. “This job is going to go wrong in the most spectacular way possible.”
Related posts:
Daughter of Mars #74 (Blind Wish part 4)Daughter of Mars #81 | (A Better Life Part 3)Daughter of Mars #80 | (A Better Life Part 2)
