Nobody Left Behind 19

Woohoo! I'm rolling into the end-zone. After this, I think there's only three scenes left: one that's one, one that needs minor revisions, and one that should be really short. I've almost got a draft!

Anyhow, where did we leave off? Oh yeah, Siki and Sarsuk have their big scary blow-up, and they send Siki home. I'm cutting the old scene where Siki's dad thinks she should apologize. Don't need that anymore. As we'll see, Siki can handle that on her own...

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———

Sarsuk was no hacker, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hack. Many who aren’t chefs, for example, can still cook supper. Besides, Planetary Acquisitions required him to keep his hacking certificates active with regular refresher courses.

Admittedly in “computer access emergencies”, commissioners preferred to grab a slave and squeeze until they revealed their password, but occasionally, situations called for more subtlety. At times, the company wanted to find information hidden in the ship’s computers without anyone realizing they’d accessed it.

For situations like these, Sarsuk had memorized all three hundred and forty-seven of the most common intrusion and privilege escalation techniques, but so far, his vast knowledge had yet to bear much fruit in his virtual apartment. He’d managed to network his tablet computer and phone together—typing on the tablet where he remembered the buttons to be and using the vibrate setting on his phone to feed him messages coded in short and long buzzes. But he’d yet to establish even a toe-hold into the facility’s network.

“If I could just get in somehow—even with a low-level or guest account,” he grumbled in the darkened laboratory, “then I could surely spin that into the deep access I’ll need. But I just can’t do much without logging in!”

He truly wished he could grab Doctor Palani and squeeze him until he revealed his password.

# # #

Click. Click. Click. Two of the lab’s fluorescent light fixtures flickered on. The third—still hanging down on a loose cable—sputtered for a moment before going dark once more. Sarsuk winced and opened his eyes just enough to recognize the geroo at the door.

“What are you doing here?” he growled. “I didn’t think they’d let you come back.”

“They won’t,” admitted Siki. Her eyes flitted over the lab benches in their new positions, slid one more meter away from him to widen the “exclusion zone”.

Doctor Palani had allowed the janitorial staff to clear away some of the broken ceiling tiles with long-handled brooms, but others lay beyond their reach and they’d left them where they fell. Sarsuk was a little curious if they’d just live with the light as-is rather than risk an electrician getting close enough to repair it.

“That’s why I came in during the weekend,” said the geroo, “when no one was paying attention.” She put a fresh bag in the javea maker and started a brew cycle.

Was she making him a bribe? Or just taunting him, perhaps, with something he couldn’t have? Hoping it was a bribe, he felt his way over to his own javea maker and started a cycle so he’d have something to warm his palms while savoring a mouthful of what passed for javea on this planet. If not, oh well, it wasn’t like he’d have to clean the pot. All his changes to the simulation reset each time he fell asleep.

Ugh, resetting the sim. Three months of hacking the system, and he still hadn’t cleared that hurdle. As it was, he hadn’t slept since yesterday morning, trying to maximize how long he was awake, how long he got to experiment before all the tools he created got erased … again.

When she turned back around, he glared at her with bloodshot eyes, asking, “Why?” and drawing out the sound. “What do you want? An apology? Can’t say I feel like it, not after what you did to me.” He’d rather crush her to blood and screams than experience that little horror again.

Siki nodded and fetched the watering can from its hiding spot behind the potted plant. “Yeah, I get that. You’re pissed. I’m pissed. I don’t know how long you like to stew after someone upsets you—”

“Longer than you even have to wait,” he growled with a renewed glare. “Trust me.”

She smiled but not the sunny smile she usually wore. This one was more measured, understanding. “Yeah, I believe you, but that’s the thing,” she said. “Today is pretty much our last chance to talk … ever. Next week, I’ll be washing test tubes—for three sovereigns an hour, damn it—and Mom will totally notice if I head to work early or come home late.”

Sarsuk just nodded. Was he supposed to feel guilty that she was earning her original wage?

Siki filled a mug from the carafe and dumped the rest into the watering can. She brought the two closer, but not nearly as close as she usually sat during their sessions together. “You’ve got a little … dried blood,” she said, stroking her own chin to indicate where.

“Yeah, I bit through your stool,” he explained. “The metal cut me a bit, but I can’t tell how bad without a mirror.”

“Not bad, I think,” she said, resting one hip against the bench.

“Hard to clean it up when you can’t grab anything.”

“I could look for a mop,” said the geroo, “but it wouldn’t be very sanitary.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just leave it.”

“Anyhow, seemed like a shitty way to leave things, and it wouldn’t be any better for us to say some empty apologies before we’re really ready to let go of our anger,” she explained, “but I thought of a way you could make it up to me.”

The anger he was feeling flipped from simmer to boil. “For me to make it up to you?” he glared at her for the longest time, but she didn’t waver. He felt so helpless like this without any outlet for his rage.

Siki sipped quietly from her mug and waited until he glanced toward the watering can.

He sighed. “I’m listening.” That was as much as he was willing to concede.

The geroo smiled. With trembling paws, she raised the watering can and tipped it forward, trying to keep her body far enough back that he couldn’t possibly hurt her. He stretched his neck and lips as far as they would go and was just barely able to sip from the spout. While he swished the liquid around his mouth, she explained, “Well, it’s just… I’ve done a lot of soul-searching this summer. Talking to you… I’ve been thinking about transferring to a different university, thinking that maybe chemistry isn’t for me.”

When he finally swallowed down the javea, he said, “If you’re about to say ‘fifth dimensional waveguides,’ I’m going to eat you.” He clicked his teeth together to emphasize the point.

Siki laughed, but not the easy natural laughter she used to share. “No, I don’t think I’d excel at that.” She sipped from her mug for a moment. “I thought maybe I’d try counseling. Or psychology? I’m not sure.”

Sarsuk nodded and lowered his eyes. “Yeah, okay. I can see that.” A silence hung over them. “Yesterday, you mentioned something about Lakeside? Is that the school?”

“Ideally, yeah,” she said. “Most every school’s got a counseling track, but Lakeside’s is famous. It’s got a lot of history, a lot of clout. They say it’s really hard to get in.”

He said nothing.

“The thing is,” Siki explained, taking a seat on the edge of the lab bench, “Doctor Palani is not only an alum, he’s like this really big deal there. They named a building after him.”

“Kidnapper’s Hall?” he snarked without hesitation.

“Cute,” said the geroo with a grin. “Headnapper’s Hall has a nicer ring to it.”

“I should have thought of that,” sighed Sarsuk. “So, he’s a big deal there, and you’ve got him balancing on your tail. Why do you need me?”

“If I was sticking with chemistry, then Palani’s name would open a lot of doors,” she explained, “but if I want to change majors…”

Not that she could see it, but he shrugged and rolled his mug between his palms. “Yeah, but counseling is basically what you’ve been doing for him,” he said.

“That’s the irony!” she agreed. “This project of his is all hush-hush, so I’m not supposed to mention it to anyone—including the admissions board. I bet Doctor Palani could totally get me in, but I’m gonna’ need more than just a recommendation. And if I want him to pull some strings for me, then I really need to impress him, not just have kept you company this summer.”

Sarsuk frowned. It seemed like she’d done a lot more than just “kept him company,” but he felt far too grumpy toward her to admit that any of her efforts could had actually helped. Regardless, she clearly wanted to use him now. “Uh huh. And how precisely do you intend to impress him?”

Siki set her mug aside and let her legs swing for a moment. “Do you remember that first morning where I met with him?” It was a silly question. Of course, he remembered. She’d spent hours talking to him and claimed it was in negotiation. “He actually gave me a task that day, but it was so ridiculous that I put it out of my mind. I didn’t see how I could accomplish it, and besides, why bother? Not like he was going to pay me more if I succeeded.”

Sarsuk nodded. He waited for her to continue, then prompted her with, “Except now, you want more from him.”

“Yeah.”

“All right,” he groaned, “stop wasting my time and tell me what it is.”

“Well, this is gonna’ sound stupid,” she said, taking a moment to bite her lip, “but Doctor Palani is convinced you know some sort of secret—”

Sarsuk’s stomach dropped out. His eyes and mouth opened wide, and all he could hear was a ringing in his tympanums. Of all the things he could have imagined, he’d never have guessed that. “No. How? How?” he gasped, collapsing to the floor. The mug he’d been holding shattered in silence, leaving only an oblong handle of ceramic in his claw.

“Sarsuk? Sarsuk?” whispered Siki, concern clear in her voice. “Are you okay?”

With hearts racing, he felt light-headed and unsteady. “How? How?”

Siki stood from the bench but didn’t approach. “Did…? Did I say something wrong?”

The dizziness began to fade, and he stared at her. “He wants … the deployments?”

The geroo blinked. “Wait. What? You mean the not-a-secret thing that Nyakky-cat gal stole from you?”

Sarsuk nodded slowly. “It would have to be. Wouldn’t it?”

“I… I don’t know,” admitted Siki. “He said he didn’t know what it was, just that everyone has a secret they don’t want to share. It didn’t dawn on me… You said this deployment stuff wasn’t important!”

“It’s not!” he said defensively. “Well, it’s not supposed to be unless there’s a viable planet…”

Sarsuk groaned and covered his face with both claws. “Ugh, don’t you see what’s going on here?”

Siki just shrugged.

“Look, I was killed for that damn information!”

The geroo tilted her head slightly. “Well, for stealing it, yeah.”

“Damn it,” he grumbled at how simple the little creature was. “I figured my boss had screwed me over, told everyone the deployments were important when they weren’t, but now Palani wants them too? That can’t just be a coincidence!”

Siki retook her seat on the bench. “Well, it could be.”

“No!” barked the krakun. “It must have been valuable. That’s why everyone wants it!”

She stared at him with a side-eye. “So, Palani assigns a college intern to try and get it from you? Not like, Costaruna’s top interrogator or something?”

The former commissioner scowled. “Well, maybe you are, but you’re just posing as a college—”

“Oh, knock it off.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Look, I get it. You got screwed over and punished when you shouldn’t have been. It would make you feel better if it was all part of some grand conspiracy, but that doesn’t make it true. You just got unlucky.”

Sarsuk sulked. He wanted to argue this, but didn’t have the energy. The javea was nice, but without a small intestine, he couldn’t actually absorb much of the caffeine.

“But here’s a chance to make something good out of a bad situation,” she explained. “You could give me the deployments, help me impress Palani, and I can go to the school of my dreams.”

“The deployments are useless,” he grumped. “The company had me arrested because they knew the data had been stolen. By now, they’d have picked new destinations for every ship. None of the ships would still be where I remember.”

“Great,” said Siki, smiling, “then telling me is harmless. It won’t matter.”

He frowned even harder, lowered his head and glared at her. “Telling you is treason!”

That made her laugh. “Which they’ve already punished you for. Kinda’ makes it balance, doesn’t it? Since you didn’t deserve it before, you might as well now.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” he hissed. “You can’t save up old punishments to pay for new misdeeds.”

Siki groaned and laid back against the lab bench. She kicked up her paws a few times in frustration. “And so, you still feel loyalty to your stupid old empire? You love them so much even when they didn’t let you defend yourself at your trial, so much that you get a chance to help a geroo without hurting anyone else, and you still won’t do it?”

Sarsuk stared wordlessly. That’s just what Suni had said, that he could have helped without even really trying, but instead he’d chosen to hurt his slaves. His virtual chest began to ache.

“I… I…”

Siki lifted herself up on her elbows and stared at him in silence.

He hated doing this, but he felt so powerless.

Or was he? His hearts lifted slightly and he said, “Okay, but this is a negotiation, right? I mean, you’re the gal who negotiated seven-and-a-half sovereigns up from three, right?”

Siki grinned as she sat up. “Yeah, and you’re the guy who thought he could con a con man, but hey, give it your best shot. I want your secret. What do you want from me?”

“Okay, how about this…” he said with a sly smile. “You said the lio were keeping me alive like a cloned liver—so they do have cloning technology—”

“I’m gonna’ stop you right there,” she sighed, waving her paws. “It has to be a trade of something you have for something that I have. I can’t make Doctor Palani clone you a new body, and I’m sure he wouldn’t want to deal with you if you had one.”

Sarsuk’s spirit sank once more.

“I don’t really have much of anything,” admitted the geroo, “but if there was something of mine—”

“Hang on a moment! Actually, yeah, there is something of yours I want,” he said with a grin. After a longish pause, “Give me your password.”

“What?” she gasped, her ears held somewhere between surprise and amusement. “You want what?”

“Your password. Whatever you use to log in here.” He grinned so hard he showed every tooth.

“I can’t give you that,” she said in surprise. “We’re not allowed—”

“Yeah, and I’m not allowed to reveal deployments either.” He had her, and he knew it! This was his ticket into the system, the foothold that would allow him to finally hack his simulation. “Do you want it or not?”

“What do you even want it for—?” she started to say, but he interrupted.

“What do you care?” He grinned wider. “You’re leaving in a week, and they’ll deactivate your account. It’ll be as useless as my deployment data. Do you really think I’ll grow a body before then? That I’ll swipe a tablet and send Doctor Hairball a mean e-mail from your account? That makes this the perfect trade—something I don’t want to give you, that I know is worthless to you for something you don’t want to give me, that you know is worthless to me.”

She smiled. “What if I lied?”

“Oh, I’d know,” he assured her. “I’ve been working with geroo for four hundred years. If you lie about your password, then the deal is off.”

———

Editor's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1v8-zbVzhd2jObFYShAOdbkicqXCuY25nHS7P9prT1co/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?