Cyber Dreams 4.38 - To Earn Some Clout

Let's really get things twisted up, huh?

Enjoy :)

-PLum

Mary Moon led Juliet through a little security station next to her dining room where a synth dressed like an ancient maritime sailor sat watching vid screens. She’d hoped their meeting would take place there and even entertained the fantasy that Mary would leave her alone for a minute or two, but she didn’t have any such luck. They walked through the station, down a short hallway, and into a rather mundane office that might once have belonged to a clerk or minor officer on the dreadnought when it was in action. Mary sat behind a gray plasteel desk and motioned for Juliet to sit in one of the two padded, but clearly designed for durability, plastic chairs in front of it.

The cushion squeaked awkwardly when Juliet sat down, but she kept a straight face; Lacy didn’t care what people thought of noises her chair might make. She looked around the little room, noting a data terminal on a side table, some artwork of stars and planets, and a motivational poster that read, “Success doesn’t find you. You find it.” The poster depicted an old-school rocket launch, and when Angel highlighted it and labeled it as a “Titan ICBM – decommissioned circa 1980,” she had to fight hard to contain her snort of derision.

“Well, well, Lacy, I’ve heard quite a lot about you.” Rose leaned back in her squeaky, low-budget executive chair, drumming her thumbs on its faux-wooden arms. Of course, Juliet didn’t respond; she just raised an eyebrow and stared. “Right, well, this is the part where you ask, ‘All good, I hope,’ or say something cute like, ‘I’ve heard about you too!’ Eh, I guess the reason I wanted to talk to you wasn’t because you’re a good communicator. We’ve done a little digging into you. Hope you don’t mind. You see, when we saw how you handled that cargo ship takeover, we wondered if it was a fluke. Turns out you’ve been quite the naughty girl on Earth and Mars, haven’t you? Seven aliases? Wanted for a couple of dozen crimes that’ll get you disappeared if you’re picked up? Any of this ringing a bell?”

Of course, Juliet knew Lacy Blake had a convincing background. Larry had bragged about the thoroughness of the pirate identities Sir Rodric had built for them, and she’d had Angel look into them. Lacy was a cold-blooded killer wanted for dozens of murders, armed robberies, kidnappings, and even “terroristic misadventures,” whatever that meant. She’d gone by names like Red Paula, Lola Channing, and Dena Red Hands. Juliet locked eyes with Mary and, in a hoarse whisper, asked, “You looking to cash in on my bounties?”

“What? I should be insulted, but I suppose you could take my interest the wrong way. No, Lacy, I have something far more valuable in mind, something that might make us both some big-time bits and also earn you a place where you can put your guard down. A home, if you will. It’s been a long time since you could call a place home, hasn’t it?” As she spoke, Juliet had a hard time following the conversation. Some of Mary’s words kept getting jumbled because she was also picking up her more prominent thoughts:

Does a sociopath care about a home? God, maybe I shouldn’t have let this chick in here with that gun. How fast is she? Do I have time to hit my panic button if she goes nuts on me?

“Angel,” Juliet subvocalized, “please caption her words as text on my AUI.” Almost instantly, a window appeared with a line-by-line display of their conversation. Juliet scanned it quickly, then said, “I guess I could appreciate that.”

“Oh? Well, now we’re getting somewhere!” Mary smiled and leaned forward. “You ever heard of Jovinium?”

Juliet smirked. “The conspiracy theory?”

Mary leaned back, her chair squeaking in protest, and folded her arms over her chest. Her plump lips spread in a large smile. “Oh, it’s a conspiracy all right, but it ain’t what everyone says. Yeah, they’re pulling something out of the gases around Jupiter, but it probably ain’t a mystery element. We’re not sure what it is, but it has something to do with a new propulsion system, and I know a guy who’s willing to pay a lot of bits for even a little dirt on their project.”

“They?” Juliet scoffed, “Who’s they? Lots of corps scooping gas around Jupiter.”

“Ah-ah! That’s where you’re wrong. Lots of corps, sure, Mass Gas, Greater Gas, Jovian Refining, I could go on, but guess what? A single holding company owns the majority of every ram-scooping company that operates around Jupiter. Don’t feel bad; it’s not common knowledge. I didn’t even know it until I was approached about this Jovinium business.”

Juliet sighed and turned to look at the door. “So? What’s all this to me?”

“Easy! Settle down. You got someplace to be?” Juliet shrugged, face straight, and Mary continued, “Okay, so, the intel I got is that, lately, there’s something top secret on those ram scoopers. They're just normal gas harvesters on the outside—even most of the crew think so. My guy says there’s something more to ‘em, however. He says some of ‘em are equipped with a cargo bay full of hardware, including something that looks like a gravity generator you might find on a cruise liner. This mystery equipment is always managed by synths on contract from the same company, Vega Star, and the crews of the scoopers are all told the equipment is for surveying the deeper layers of Jupiter’s atmosphere.”

“Yeah? What if it is?”

“You let me worry about that. So, what if I told you Vega Star has a maintenance station orbiting Ganymede? What if I told you I know their schedule and that we could probably insert you at the right moment to get aboard one of these harvesters? You think you could do that? You think you could handle some synths like you did the crew on that cargo vessel?”

“Uh, hold on,” Juliet rasped, suddenly a lot less cool in her Lacy persona. “One of those ships has to be worth billions, especially if they have gravity generators on them.”

Mary laughed and slapped a hand on her desk. “Right! We’re not going to steal it! That would be suicide; even the politicians we own couldn’t protect us. I want you to get aboard and scan every inch of that secret cargo bay. The maintenance station is run by synths. The maintenance crews are synths. You’re okay with melting some industrial synths if they get in your way, right?”

Juliet frowned and folded her arms. “Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“Okay, I’ll be straight; this mission will take guts. Your insertion will be via EVA. Your extraction will involve you stealing one of the ship’s two shuttles. We have some folks here who could do it—would do it for the right price—but they don’t need to earn favor the way you do. Besides, you just feel right for this, hard bitch that you are.” When Juliet continued to frown, she added, “It’ll be worth a fat stack of bits and earn a lot of rep for you around here. All you need to do is access that secret bay, scan all the equipment, and get out. The guy who’s paying me says there shouldn’t be more than a dozen synths aboard at any given time, and if you’re careful and quick, you could be gone before they call the response team from the station.”

“Response team?”

“Well, he says they have a kind of synth commando unit on the station.”

“Let me think a second.” Juliet stared at Mary as a million thoughts ran through her mind. She was intrigued by the mystery and wouldn’t mind getting that intel herself, but was she willing to do something so risky? Would it earn her enough clout with the pirates to get some access to the more secure areas? Would it provide a chance to get close to Antigone? Should she wait around for a better, less crazy-sounding opportunity? She stared at Mary and opened her mind.

I think she’s gonna bite. She’s interested. This bitch is crazy for danger! If she can pull it off, I’m looking at a big haul, enough to refit the Red Betty’s main drive, upgrade her turrets and fix all those shitty hull plate repairs. Come on, girl, say yes! Earn your place with Mama.

“Ganymede, huh? What about Simon?”

“Oh, this isn’t his cup of tea. We’ve got a little interceptor we’ve been stealthing out for this job. I’ve got a synth that’ll drop you, and after he picks you up and brings you back, we’ll reset his memory. Fewer loose ends about this job, the better for the both of us.”

“That go for me, too?” Juliet tried hard to hear Moon’s thoughts as she hoarsely whispered the question, staring into her glimmering golden eyes.

“No!” Not if you pull this off. I’ll put you on my damn crew! “Shit, if you can do this, you can have a spot on the Red Betty.”

Juliet frowned, her brain going into overdrive—if she accepted the job, she’d have some time to think of a way out if she had to. If she ended up doing it, she’d lose a few days in transit but gain a mile of respect among the pirates. Of course, she’d also put herself in danger and possibly earn the ire of another massive corporation. What if she said no, though? How far would that set her back among the pirates? Unfolding her arms, she shrugged. “When do I leave?”

“That’s my girl! We’ve got the ship ready, and the synth has his programming. We just need my tech to finish up with his ‘master key’ for the refinery ship. It’ll get you through the airlock and any of the standard doors. You’re going to have to figure out what to do if the secret cargo bay is secured differently—maybe strong arm one of the synths aboard, or, I dunno, use a cutting torch . . .”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“I knew I liked you!” Mary stood up, grinning. “Listen, I’ll have one of the synths lead you back to your ship, okay?”

“Yeah.” Juliet stood, stretched, and subvocalized, “I know we have a lot to talk about, Angel, but right now, be on your toes. She told some guy to have a synth or two attack me as a test.”

“She what? That seems incredibly irresponsible and foolish. What if they were to kill you? Her mission would be over before it started!”

“Yeah.” Juliet turned toward the door. “That’s the idea, I think. If I can’t handle a little ambush, she probably shouldn’t waste time with me on the mission.”

“I’ll be in touch with the details; we’ll have a file on the ship with the known schematics. It won’t be long, so get your gear ready. I think this is the start of a profitable relationship, Lacy.”

Juliet stepped out the door and turned back to Lacy. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Your guide will be in the next room.” The door snicked closed. There was only one way to go from Mary’s office; she had to walk down a short hallway and then enter a sort of reception area that had been empty as they’d passed through earlier. Her fingers trembled with readiness as they tapped the side of her holster. She was on high alert as she approached the doorway leading out of the hall. As it whooshed open, she almost drew her gun and blasted the synth who’d been sent to guide her. Angel immediately highlighted its empty hands, though, and she passed the jerky movement off by reaching up to massage her neck.

“Hello, I am designated Potato. I will guide you to your berth.” The synth was built just like the bartender—no flesh at all and no attempts to act human.

On a whim, Juliet said, “Potato, hold still; let me look at you for a minute.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He stood stock still, his LED eyes twinkling as he waited for Juliet to do whatever she was doing. What she was doing was trying to see if she could get any sort of psionic read from the synth. She’d never picked anything up from Bradbury back on the Kowashi, but she figured another sample wouldn’t go amiss. She stared at Potato for a long minute, willing him to open his synthetic mind to her, but nothing happened, nothing other than snippets of thoughts starting to bleed in from other parts of the pirate base.

Juliet sighed and gestured for Potato to proceed. “Let’s go.” She followed him out of the empty reception area and into a long hallway. Doors lined the walls, and several junctions were ahead; Juliet’s gut told her it felt like a damn good spot for an ambush. “You ready?” she subvocalized.

“Always.” As if she’d invited the encounter, a synth carrying a shotgun stepped into the hallway from the next junction, and a door hissed open behind her. Juliet knew two things: One, she couldn’t shoot before they threatened her, or she’d get spaced, and two, she didn’t want to eat any shotgun pellets. She stepped close to Potato, using him for cover, and glanced behind her. Sure enough, another matching synth had come through the door, and this one gripped a needler in its gray, plasteel fingers.

“Pardon me, but . . .” Potato didn’t get any further before the shotgun roared. As he jerked backward into her, Juliet felt biting pain in her thigh and left wrist, and then the world got slow. She’d just turned back toward the shotgun-wielding synth when Angel ignited her synapses, and the cloud of smoke from its first shot was still billowing outward in slow motion as she yanked her pistol free of its holster and with feather-soft taps on its hair-trigger she sent two hot, screaming lumps of polymer at him.

“Aim for me,” she subvocalized and jerked her lightning-fast arm around to point behind her. As soon as she felt Angel tweaking the angle of her wrist, she gently squeezed the trigger two more times. When her head and torso caught up to her arm, and she looked back, the second synth was lying on the ground with creamy white fluids pooling around its perforated skull. Angel slowed her thoughts to normal, and Juliet turned to regard the first synth. It was crawling away from her, leaving a smear of the same white fluid in its wake. It still clutched the shotgun, so Juliet took aim at its hand and fired another round. Two of the synth’s fingers flew off, and Juliet’s round destroyed the shotgun’s receiver.

“Well done, Juliet. You were hit by two buckshot pellets, but your nanites are extracting them and will have the wounds sealed quickly.” Juliet grunted, reflexively slapping her left hand against her thigh, wanting to explore the damage herself. The wound site was numb, and though her jeans had a large blood stain, it wasn’t growing anymore. A similar tale could be told about her wrist—a puckered, bloody hole sat right in the center, but she couldn’t feel it.

Potato, lying at her feet, buzzed and twitched, then, with garbled, halting speech, said, “. . . rude. Pleazzzzz . . . ah . . . patiencssssss . . . ah . . . ah . . . mal-fu-fu-funct . . .”

“Quiet, Potato. Save your strength.”

Juliet leaned against the plasteel wall and deftly reloaded her gun from the rounds on her belt. She spun the pistol and then slipped it into her holster. She knew Moon would be watching her, if not personally, through her muscle, Galaxy. She folded her arms over her chest and waited, watching the first synth continue to try to crawl, though its motions grew slower and slower as more of that white fluid leaked out of it. She thought someone would be there to “investigate the noise” right away, but she ended up waiting nearly five minutes before Galaxy came sauntering around the corner, his built-in auto-cannon or shotgun aimed at her.

“Don’t move,” he growled.

“Relax,” she snarled. They stared at each other for a pregnant heartbeat, and then he lowered his gun and nodded, stepping up to the “dead” synth she’d pegged in the center of the forehead with Angel’s help.

“I watched the footage. They jumped you. Weird damn behavior, but these things are all kinds of messed up after all the mods we’ve done to ‘em. Too many chefs in the kitchen, if you get my drift.”

“Huh.” Juliet was starting to get hoarse from all the rasping she’d done, so she spoke in a rough whisper. “Guess I’ll have to talk to Mary about her pilot synth.”

“You do that.” He stood up and walked up to her. “Follow me. I’ll get you to your ship.” He started walking without waiting for a response, and when he was a meter from the still-crawling synth, he pointed his cannon at it, and, with a thunderous boom and cloud of white smoke, he blew its head into a thousand pieces. Juliet frowned, thankful for the auto-squelch feature on her auditory implants. She looked at the blackened smear that had once been the synth’s head and noted Galaxy’s gun hadn’t done much damage to the floor, just some scratches.

“Deforming anti-personnel rounds?”

“Sure. No sense blowing holes in our ship if we get boarded.” He turned to look at her and frowned. “Good thing you’re in the middle of the station and didn’t miss. Those bullets of yours look like they’d punch through a two-inch plate.” Juliet just grunted in response, so he turned and continued walking. A moment later, he spoke again, “Damn fast on that trigger. Damn good shot without even looking behind you. I saw you glance back and see the synth, but what if he’d moved?”

“What if?”

“What if . . . yeah, what if. I guess you’d just have to shoot again. Only a couple more shots in that pistol, though.”

Lacy’s reticence was back in full effect, so Juliet grunted again. Galaxy got quiet after that, and she tried to focus on the mess this “mission” had become. She was trying to get closer to Antigone, but it felt like she was taking a step back for every step she took forward. She knew where Antigone was and had an idea what she was doing there, but now she’d gotten herself wrapped up in some pirate mission to confirm a conspiracy theory. She started subvocalizing to Angel, “Send a message to Nick. Tell him I’m making progress, but things are getting messy and complicated. Tell him to message me when he’s back on his ship so we can sweep it and give him the details.”

“I sent him the message, but something troubling happened. His PAI replied with an automated response: The owner of this PAI is unavailable until further notice.”

“Oh, melt it!” Juliet growled.