Cyber Dreams 4.5 - Sunset Star Runner

Good morning, all! Here's today's delivery :) Hope you enjoy~

-Plum

The Sunset Star Runner was immense. Juliet had seen photos of it and even watched a promotional video showing the enormous disc-shaped vessel cruising through an asteroid belt, but when her boarding shuttle ferried her up toward the ship, she was surprised when it kept looming larger and larger in the viewscreen. Distances in space could be deceptive, and so it was a little shocking when the shuttle finally slipped into a docking bay that seemed inconceivably small, maybe proportionate to a porthole on an ocean-bound cruise liner.

She and another fifty passengers were on this particular shuttle, strapped into seats arranged in ten rows of five, a big curved viewscreen near the front providing entertainment during the short flight; the Sunset Star Runner was orbiting Earth not too far from Luna. There had been quite a few exclamations of wonder from the passengers, especially the twin boys sitting behind Juliet when they’d seen the ship for the first time on the screen. The Star Runner was sixteen-hundred meters long by twelve-hundred wide, and the front third was encased in a transparent dome, not unlike the ones protecting the habitations on Luna. Juliet couldn’t deny a certain level of excitement herself, especially when she noted the crystal blue waters of an enormous pool near the front edge of the dome.

“I haven’t been swimming since I was a kid,” she subvocalized, scooting toward the edge of her seat as she waited for the pilot to bring the shuttle to a complete stop inside the docking bay.

“Do you remember how?”

“Yes. I don’t think that’s something you can forget—like riding a bike.”

“Is that true? People can’t forget that?”

“I don’t know; that’s what everyone says.”

“Welcome to the Sunset Star Runner, where luxury is a way of life! As you disembark, Felicity will hand you a welcome package with a list of amenities, events, and dining options. Take special note of the headline performer for the first leg of the cruise to Io Station. If you haven’t heard, I’ll give you a little hint: Sienna Stardust will be performing every night in the Venus Lounge!” At the steward’s announcement, quite a few passengers made “ooh” and “ahh” sounds and a smattering of applause filled the space. Juliet didn’t know who Sienna Stardust was.

“Is she big?” a man’s voice asked from behind her.

“Carl, do you live under a rock? She’s, like, the biggest thing ever on Shinecast.”

“Well, Tiff, when you work eighteen hours a day to pay for rides around the galaxy . . .”

“Solar system,” a kid’s voice piped up.

“Huh?”

“We’re touring part of the solar system, not the galaxy.”

“Fred, let me ask you something.” The man’s voice took on a bit of a droll edge. “Is the solar system in the galaxy?”

“Um, yes, but . . .”

“There you have it. We’re touring part of the galaxy. Jesus Christ! What’s taking so long?”

Juliet smiled as Carl began to lose his cool, watching the steward near the front exit eye the passengers, look at a tablet, and then eye them again. After a few seconds, he turned and swung the lever, opening the pressurized door. “Folks! Please exit in an orderly fashion, and don’t forget to pick up your welcome packet from Felicity! Your luggage will be available at carousel T4 in just a few minutes.”

Juliet had an aisle seat, so she stood up immediately. It felt good to stretch her legs, letting blood flow through her knees. Only two rows of passengers separated her from the exit, so it was only a few minutes until she was striding through the hatch into a wide, cream-colored, plushly carpeted docking corridor. The contrast between the Star Runner’s interior versus the Kowashi’s was stark—clean, padded, noise-dampening panels lining the walls, soft lighting, and pleasant background music, as opposed to dirty, scarred plasteel, occasionally flickering amber LEDs and the clang and bump of distant machinery. “Well,” Juliet said, for some reason defending the Kowashi to herself, “it’s not like she’s trying to impress any passengers.”

When she and the other leading passengers reached the inner airlock door, Juliet came to the realization that the entire docking tunnel was an airlock. A countdown was displayed above the door, currently ticking down from thirty, and a red light flashed beside it. Only when she really concentrated could she discern any sound of air flowing—the pressurization systems were much more modern and sophisticated than other ships she’d been aboard. When the countdown reached zero, the flashing red light turned into a steady green, and the door clicked and slid open.

“Welcome!” a young woman said from the other side, holding a stack of paper-thin smartsheets. She was dressed in the blue and white uniform of the Star Runner crew, had her russet-blonde hair pulled back in a very tight bun, and, overall, looked very neat, clean, and professional. Juliet felt out of place as she tromped up to her in her work boots and motorcycle jacket. Nevertheless, Felicity—her nametag announced her as such—smiled brightly at her and held out one of the smartsheets, again saying, “Welcome,” as Juliet took it.

“Thanks.” Juliet continued past her as she studied the sheet. As soon as her augmented vision fell on the paper, all sorts of images began to pop up, hovering in the air in front of Juliet’s face. One was a video labeled, “Touch here to tour the ship!” Another was a hologram of a petite woman with silver hair and glittery skin singing into a microphone—Sienna Stardust, no doubt. Juliet saw an icon that looked like a mini-map, and when she tapped it, it seemed to stream toward her, and then a new icon appeared on her actual AUI.

“That was rather invasive. I didn’t see any malware, though.” Angel sounded almost offended.

“Did that just load into my data port without permission?”

“It seems you gave it permission by touching the icon on the smartsheet. It would be an interesting case to see tried in a court of law, but considering it was benign, I think the cruise corporation would be able to avoid penalty.”

Juliet frowned and folded the smartsheet in half, silencing all of the beeps, music, and taglines as the “smart” side of the page was made invisible to her eyes and, thus, her AUI. “I hate this advertising shit.”

“Well, we have the map now. I’m guiding you to the baggage claim.” Angel populated the little map in her AUI with a dotted yellow line, and Juliet began to follow it. It wasn’t necessary; the corridor was clearly labeled with signs directing her and everyone else to various destinations: baggage claim, dining, shopping, entertainment, recreation, and assorted cabin levels. Juliet flexed her hand and touched the space under her left arm where her needler should be. It felt weird being out in public without any sort of weapon; they’d made her check the needler with her backpack before boarding the shuttle.

Juliet had always been a fast walker. Her legs were long, and she tended to feel a need to be somewhere. She’d had friends, Felix, for example, who liked to dawdle about, for lack of a better description. He’d take slow, short steps, stop to look at things he saw, and gesture animatedly while he talked and walked, slowing even further. Juliet had always liked that about him—how he could forget about what was ahead, what needed to be done, be it getting to work on time, picking up a takeout order, or meeting someone. Juliet couldn’t do that; she always had her destination in mind, and her body, without any mental prodding, was prone to speed her toward it.

All that said, she wasn’t surprised when she found herself at the front of the staggered line of shuttle passengers and was first in line as the bags began to trundle out on the automated conveyor belt. Of course, just because she was first to arrive didn’t mean her pack was, and Juliet found herself irritably clenching her fist as she watched one, two, then a dozen more passengers pick up their bags before her black backpack with the visored combat helmet strapped to the side, finally emerged from the textured plasteel wall. She snatched it up, slung it over one shoulder, and followed Angel’s directions to her room.

“900 meters?” Juliet studied the mini-map, watching as it expanded in her field of view, showing the various elevators, twists, and turns she’d need to navigate before she reached “Diamond Cabin Level 1.” She’d sprung for one of the nicer suites in a, perhaps misguided, attempt to treat herself. She figured she’d been “working” in one capacity or another for months with hardly any break from a certain baseline of stress. Even on the Kowashi, she’d been worried about Honey and how she would rescue her. On the trip back, she’d still been “on the job,” responsible for the crew’s safety and stressing about how things would work out with Voronov and the kid.

She was still working toward something; she was still a little stressed about having to prove herself as a pilot without hardly any training, but she wasn’t responsible for saving anyone, and she wasn’t going to deliver justice to anyone. She was just doing something she really wanted to do—it was a nice change. It felt good to have a chance to unwind and relax without anyone watching her progress, judging if she was working hard enough or if she’d made the right decision about any given thing. Juliet figured that would change when she came under the scrutiny of Alice’s friend, so she meant to enjoy the next week aboard the cruise liner.

Angel led her on the most direct route to her suite, so Juliet only caught glimpses of the common areas of the cruise liner. She saw some mall-like areas where restaurants lined a promenade; she caught glimpses out windows of the dome-covered portion of the deck. It was startlingly park-like, with tall trees, grassy recreation areas, and, of course, a gigantic swimming pool that butted up to the front edge of the dome. Supposedly, if you swam below the surface, the clear dome continued below the waterline, and you could look out at space as you swam. Juliet was eager to try it out.

“So,” she subvocalized as she walked, “explain how this thing cools my blood again. Where does the heat go?”

Angel, of course, knew what she was talking about and answered immediately, “The intracranial blood cooling system has a heatsink in your abdomen. It’s the largest part of the device. I designed it at a molecular level; it’s a nanoscale structure that provides an immense surface area, allowing it to rapidly absorb and store large amounts of heat from the specialized coolant that flows through the tubes linking the device to the contact pads in your intracranial arteries. As soon as the cooling process begins, the organ will deploy fin-like tendrils into your abdomen and begin slowly, safely dispersing the heat.”

“But you said the device was . . . squishy. That’s why I can’t notice it in my stomach.”

“It is squishy, but it’s not in your stomach . . . I know what you mean, though. The various components of the device are housed within a flexible membrane, protected from impacts and such.”

“Impacts?”

“Punches, kicks, falls . . .”

“Oh, yeah, I get it.” Juliet pressed her hand against her stomach, thinking about the idea that Angel had designed a device to rest in her abdomen with the specific requirement that it be able to withstand her being beaten up. “Anyway,” she said at last, stepping onto an escalator that would take her to her suite’s level, “I want to practice with the lattice. I want to use it in a crowded area and see if your invention works.”

“Ah, now I understand why you brought this up at this particular moment. I think it’s a good idea.”

Juliet nodded, trusting that Angel would recognize the gesture. She’d grown very used to Angel’s ability to read her intentions to the point where she barely subvocalized anymore; when she spoke to Angel, she hardly moved her throat and never made any sound. Really, all she did was think about what she wanted to say and imagine forming the words in her mouth—Angel never missed a syllable. Juliet knew high-end PAIs were all supposed to be capable like that, but Tig certainly hadn’t been. With Tig, Juliet had to speak aloud most of the time because he’d been notoriously bad at understanding her subvocalizations. All that said, she was pretty sure Angel would know if she nodded or shook her head.

As often happened with her, Juliet found herself at her destination without much memory of the last part of her journey. She held a thumb to the bio lock on the smooth, creamy white door, which emitted a pleasant ding and slid open. She stepped through to find herself in a large, hexagonal room, plushly appointed in dark, faux-wood furnishings, thick royal blue carpeting, and the same creamy white walls as the rest of the ship. Soft lighting highlighted certain aspects of the décor, from a painting of a fishing boat at sea to a bookcase lined with actual books. A doorway opened on the right-hand side of the room, and Juliet walked past the marble-topped kitchenette counter and a white leather-like sofa to explore further.

As she stepped through the doorway, another room opened up, this one with an elevated king-sized bed, above which a massive viewscreen filled the ceiling. It was currently displaying an image of the Earth as seen from orbit. Other than the dim, amber track lights along the baseboards, the viewscreen provided the only light in the room. It was enough to see by, though, and Juliet didn’t bother with the light switches. The bed looked ridiculously comfortable, topped with a thick white comforter and a pile of plump pillows.

She padded over the carpeting to the adjoining bathroom and saw that she’d spent her money well—it was appointed with a jetted tub, easily large enough for three people. “I’m going to have a nice week on this ship.”

“Yes, we are!”

“You like baths, too?”

“I like how they make you feel and, by extension, me.”

“Huh. Cool.” Juliet returned to the bedroom and tossed her backpack on the bench at the foot of the bed. She dug around in the side pouch, pulling out her needler and underarm holster. After she’d put it on, ensuring it was loaded with shredders, and shrugged back into her jacket, she said, “Let’s find a place to eat, someplace with a view over the ship’s deck, maybe.”

“It’s lunchtime, but according to the ship’s status page, only about half the passengers have boarded. I don’t think you’ll have any difficulty getting a table.”

“Uh, yeah, I didn’t think of that. Do any of the restaurants have a view like that? I swear I saw an ad or something where people were sitting at little tables looking out into space with the ship’s dome below . . .”

“Yes, that’s the Stargazer Lounge. They serve lunch and dinner—I’m making you a reservation.” While Angel spoke, Juliet saw a new pathway populate her mini-map, and she nodded. As she turned to leave the bedroom, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

“Am I dressed ok?”

“For lunch, yes.”

“Good.” Juliet smiled at herself, still pleasantly surprised by how glossy and full her hair looked, even pulled back in a ponytail the way she did when she was being lazy. “Which is most of the time when my hair’s concerned.” Her bright, black-flecked, silver eyes crinkled with amusement. “You think I should keep the eyes like this?”

“They complement your hair and skin tone. You looked good with the amber eyes, too, and these implants are far better at replicating a metallic shimmer. Of course, your natural green would be nice, and I thought the pale-blue eyes you wore for a while after . . .”

“You’re not helping. If you say everything looks good, how does that narrow down my decision?” Juliet’s lips pressed together as she contemplated her appearance. The silver eyes were pretty, and they did look good with her coloring, but they also stood out, and if she’d learned one thing from Lemur, standing out could be dangerous. “I’m not working, though. . .” she growled softly. “Can we try a dark blue, something less luminous?” Juliet watched as the silver in her eyes deepened, and a swirl of blue spread through them, following some propagation algorithm. The luminosity behind the irises faded, and the blue deepened until it was nearly black in the dim lighting of the room. Even so, they were pretty, like jewels hidden in shadow.

“How’s that?”

“I like ‘em. We can always change things up but leave them like this for now.” Juliet took one more look around her suite and then left, following the path Angel had laid out for her. As she stepped onto the escalator leading down, she asked, “What are the rules about discharging firearms on this ship?”

“As a licensed SOA operative, you are permitted to use your weapon for self-defense and the defense of others only. If you need to serve a warrant or confront a criminal, you’re instructed to contact Passenger Services and request Horizon Cruise Lines security personnel to accompany you.”

“Fair enough, I guess.” Juliet grew quiet as she observed the passengers, crew, and sights of the enormous ship, following Angel’s instructions through galleries, corridors, elevators, and moving stairways until she stepped onto a high deck, the sides of which were constructed of transparent Diamatex. Looking out, Juliet could see, plain as day, the planet on which she’d been born. It was beautiful, despite what people said about humans ruining it. Blue prevailed over most of the glimmering globe, swirled with the white of a million clouds. The continents were easy to see, though, smeared in green and tan.

Juliet was pretty sure she was looking at North America, and it was a surreal sensation to think she was looking down on everyone she’d left behind. Down there, somewhere, were her mom, sister, and all the friends and enemies she’d made and abandoned. “Fee,” she muttered, for some reason falling back on her oldest, most thoroughly deserted friend, “what are you doing right now? Are you good? Do you miss me? I miss you . . .”

“Sorry, Juliet,” Angel interjected. “Do you want me to bump your reservation? You’re already a few minutes late . . .”

“Nah.” Juliet shook her head and blinked, breaking the trance the view of the planet had put on her. She turned and strode toward the entrance to the restaurant. “Let’s put this brain freezer of yours through its paces.”