Star Realms: Rescue Run Page 9

  The underlevelers pushed toward the dispensary. Food, blankets, datachips with programs for bodymods all rested in a pile. Cries from the crowd escaped about how it was unfair. There were too many people for the supplies. A few larger men pushed the crowd back moving in a wave. People fell, and then rioting began.

  A smoke bomb bounced off the floor, white gas flooding the area. Clubs and metal sticks came out. One of the larger men slammed his club into an older man trying to reach the food. The blow resounded with a crack loud enough to pierce through the crowd noise.

  Someone screamed. More fights erupted within the crowd, smoke started to fill the area. Toward the dispensary, the gang of the larger men stuffed the supplies into sacks. It became clear that they were working together, even through the distracting smoke. When most of the supplies had been offloaded, they pushed their way through the crowd and took off running.

  With no one to stop them, the crowd rushed forward again toward the dispensary to try to gather what meager supplies were left. Little remained. People shouted. Fights broke out over a single loaf of bread. Two of the underlevelers pounded on another. One man collapsed, and the other kept bashing his face. Blood trickled everywhere until the body went still.

  The BioMechs came to life, but not to the underleveler’s aid. A red light flashed with a computerized warning. “Dispensary closing. This zone will receive further supplies in one day’s time. These goods are brought to you by Regency BioTech—improving lifestyles and creating longevity across the galaxy. Have a wonderful day.”

  “But there’s nothing for us! They took it all! We don’t have enough!” Someone shouted.

  The crowd erupted into angry roars. The BioMechs paid no heed and pressed forward. Electrical charges welled in their centers to warn the people that they would be stunned if they pressed any further.

  That warning wasn’t enough for some of the angry underlevelers. Though most fled, a few tried to fight the BioMechs, hitting them repeatedly, fists clanking against metal. Their efforts proved in vain, as the BioMechs had no feeling. With no further warning, the electrical charge swelled and an attacking underleveler convulsed, dropping in front of the BioMech.

  Two more people fell to the BioMechs’ stuns. The rest of the crowd dispersed.

  The video ended. Dario frowned, his oculars adjusting back to a vision of reality in front of him. The long aisle of cubes, uniform and perfect, returned to his vision.

  Jake Dylan watched him. “Are you all right, Dario?”

  “Yeah, I watched one of the holovids. I can’t believe this has gone on for so long. These people need a friend in corporate,” Dario said.

  Jake draped his arm over the top of his workstation cube. “That they do. And they will. I’m sure that we’ll make a difference.”

  It would be risky. Dario’s father and the rest of the executives would fight him at every turn, but that was because they didn’t understand. They never would watch holovids like this, never would glance at the underlevels. They weren’t evil, but they had their own concerns, and the demands of a corporate job allowed them and everyone else to turn a blind eye to those separated from them.

  He parted ways with Jake, wheels spinning in his mind on how he could change this company.

  Chapter 13

  The Underlevels

  Mars—The Underlevels

  Local Date February 10th, 2464

  The Mars spaceport made Trantine X’s look like some backwater landing strip. It stretched for almost the entire former planet’s capitol city’s size, with its own Central Office for the larger ships incapable of atmospheric descent. The station connected to a space elevator that transported cargo and personnel to the upper corporate levels of the Mars’ city streets and eventually up to the Regency BioTech Central Office.

  The Money Hauler was small enough of a vessel to be able to land at the Comet Cola New Washington Spaceport proper, holding aloft after entering into the pressurization zone, waiting for the dome’s seal to bond once more before being allowed entry into the dome’s second level and atmosphere.

  Electromagnets brought the ship in, transferring it away from the primary landing area and into a shuttle housing stall on the south side of the spaceport. The ship went through cursory securities and customs scans before matching air pressure with Mars local. The hatch popped open.

  Joan looked to her two companions. Trian smoothed down his coat. Yui had had just woken up from a long nap and rubbed her temples. When Yui caught her glance, she scowled back at Joan. “What you lookin’ at, ensign?”

  Joan ignored the taunt.

  Outside, the hallway to the terminal was well lit, and more importantly empty. No security alarms sounded at their fake landing codes. There was a small bend that would, according to the flickering exit map, lead to the main terminal.

  “Looks like everything went off without a hitch,” Joan said.

  “Our programmers spend a long time ensuring our drops and extractions go smoothly.” Yui stifled a yawn. She stretched her arms until they hit the low-roof of the cabin area. “So what’s next, Trian? Where do we meet the contact?”

  Trian tapped on his handtab, pulling up some information. It looked like gibberish to Joan, the display in code, but Trian had no problem deciphering it. “We’re supposed to meet at the Red Crater Astropub here in New Washington. Level three, East 45th Street.”

  “Low levels?” Yui asked with a small frown.

  “Yes,” Trian said and led the way into the hallway. He tapped his handtab to display map coordinates.

  The hallway opened into a large spaceport terminal. Hundreds of people hovered across magnetic conveyors at various levels upward, stretching at least a hundred stories to reach various shuttle housings. This terminal was dedicated to commercial travel, robust on Mars compared to the other worlds or stations Joan had been on. Not surprising, given how many megacorporation headquarters Mars held. It had to be nearly as dense as Earth itself.

  Holos and lights flashed everywhere—from directional signs to advertisements, almost dizzying on their transparent backgrounds across the levels. Joan stared upward at the display for a moment before Yui pushed her forward.

  “No time for tourism. Let’s get going.” Yui stepped onto a magnetic conveyor and sped forward.

  Trian did the same.

  Joan took one more moment to observe the largesse of it all before following. The conveyor took them to a roundabout that split into fifteen different directions. A path lit blue, syncing with Trian’s handtab coordinates. “This way to the hovercabs,” he said.

  “I’ve never been on a world this developed before. There’s people upward as far as you can see,” Joan said to Yui, trying to create conversation on the conveyor. They had to work together. Small talk could help ease the tension.

  “You get used to it after awhile. The old Terran States, before it became the Trade Federation, weren’t able to expand out of the system until a couple hundred years ago. With the rate of human reproduction, it became overwhelming,” Trian said.

  “Thanks for the history lesson,” Yui said.

  If this was how conversations were going to go for the duration, this was going to be a long mission, thought Joan.

  Within moments they arrived at a large set of double transparent doors that opened for them when they approached. They exited the terminal building into a large tunnel, self-driving hovercars in three rows awaiting passengers from a line.

  The line went on for dozens of people, but it dwindled quickly. Soon, the door to the hovercar swung upward to accommodate Joan and her party. They stepped inside and Trian synced his handtab with the car. Trian took one of the seats across from them. The interior seats pressurized to match their individual back and neck profiles before harnesses stretched out over them and buckled. The car took off through the tunnel, the other cars fading into the background in a blur.

  “You asked about the lower levels, didn’t sound too happy about it,” Joan said, again trying to st
art conversation with Yui, who sat next to her.

  “Lower levels are dangerous. You find the people who can’t hold down steady corporate contracts down there. Where resources are slim, people get desperate,” Yui said. “You stay close to us, don’t make a scene. You understand?

  “Yes, we’ll have to be careful,” Trian added, though he seemed more interested in watching the lights of the tunnel go by. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, Ms. Amitosa, we’ll be fine.

  “Yes, it’s not me I’m worried about.” Yui’s dark eyes fixed on Joan.

  Joan slouched in her seat. She’d had plenty of experience in seedy environments, meeting contacts for jobs or information. She knew how to handle herself, but it wasn’t worth arguing.

  The hovercar swooped around to a platform that ran a scan of the car before opening and pulling the car downward several levels. They passed several more platforms on the way down before the car balanced into a slow descent and stopped in front of a large, rusted sign labeled “3.”

  The hovercar’s internal terminal let up, requesting a payment of 200 credits. Joan scanned her handtab to the terminal, which processed her expense account and debited the proper amount. Once the transaction completed, the doors slid open.

  “How far from here?” Joan asked.

  “A few hundred meters,” Yui, said, sliding out of her seat first. She scanned the area.

  Joan tried to track Yui’s eye movements, to see what the other woman could see. The area was rather dark, and almost everything had an old, rusted coloration to it, the streets and buildings had been constructed from what raw materials could be extracted in the early days of colonization. Broken windows hung from a nearby building. Another’s were covered with a bolted sheet of metal. Across the street the building was tagged in black paint with the words “Resist or Die.” Joan frowned at that. Would this be the fate of the Star Empire should they give up hope? This level looked hopeless, reminding Joan of her time in prison, unable to escape and with very little purpose other than to try to survive.

  Trian tapped her on the shoulder. “Are you well, Ms. Shengtu?”

  “Yeah. This place brings back some bad memories is all,” she said, and followed where Yui maneuvered around a waifish man lying on the side of the street with a tattered blanket.

  They rounded a corner to a street that hardly looked different from the first. Joan didn’t see any signs, but trusted Yui’s navigational skills. Several people on the walk gave them odd stares or preying looks. It was difficult to discern which was which. No matter, their dark clothing gave them away as outsiders compared to the more basic colors of the clothes of the people here.

  Another block down the street, Yui stopped, looking upward at a building to a flickering holographic sign: Red Crater Astropub.

  “This is it,” Yui said.

  A man with a genome modified third arm protruding from his shoulder held a vaporizer to his lips and exhaled whatever chemicals it contained. He looked them over with further modified yellow eyes, the retina cameras zooming on Joan’s handtab. “You sure you’re in the right spot, sugar?”

  “She’s quite sure,” Trian said, taking Joan by the arm protectively.

  Yui laughed at Trian and motioned with her head toward the astropub. She pushed batwing doors open to reveal a dimly lit interior and old, tattered booths with seats that needed reupholstering. There were few patrons inside. Numeralis, a game where one formed a deck of numbered cards and tried to obtain a score of fifty, was displayed on a wall, a couple of older patrons intently playing the game, gambling dozens of credits it didn’t look like they could afford to.

  Trian released Joan’s arm after they entered, and hurried up to Yui. “What’re you laughing about?” he asked.

  “It’s cute when you get worried. I’d like to see you in a fight with that creep. Don’t know where I’d place odds,” Yui teased.

  “Hey, I can hold my own. I’ve gone through the same basic training you have.”

  “Yeah, but you’re just a political guy.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Trian furrowed his brow.

  “It means you’re good with people,” Joan said to cut them off, noticing that several patrons in the place were looking in their direction. Perhaps she was more paranoid than they were, but she wanted to avoid attention.

  A robotic server approached, wheeling to them. “Please provide your drink orders.”

  “Nothing yet,” Joan said. “We’ll be awhile. Need to decide.”

  Trian looked to Yui for guidance as the server wheeled back away from them. “Where are we supposed to meet?” his voice lowered.

  “Booth in the corner.” Yui pointed to an empty one. The astropub didn’t look as sanitary as most of the places Joan frequented, but she couldn’t be considered a snob with her modest shipping budget.

  The three moved over to the booth all the same, and slid into seats. “He’s late,” Trian said.

  “What do we do?” Joan asked, looking between them.

  “We wait and have a drink,” Yui said. She flagged down the server bot and gave her order, following it up with one for Trian, despite his protests.

  Joan waved the server bot off a second time, too nervous to drink. This was an alien world, in a dangerous place. She needed to be as alert as possible. Who knew what could happen to them here? Not that she cared to dull her senses much in any situation. She’d been on the run, alone for too long to take chances like that.

  Trian and Yui exchanged more of their playful banter. Joan zoned out, staring across the room at various patrons who weaved in and out. Several lower-level people came in, gave their credits to those service bots without any real person even watching over the establishment. Who knew who owned the place? Probably the same megacorporation that gave them their meager stipends. Money came in, money flowed right back to the originator.

  That was a depressing thought, but that’s how money worked, even in the Star Empire. The same problems with society persisted whether it was an Emperor in charge or corporations.

  When she looked back, Yui and Trian had delved into some gambling entertainment. Tri-D holographic balls hovered over the table, blinking in and out while her companions tapped their table controls. A couple credits transferred back and forth, but the house took a cut each time.

  Joan glanced down at her handtab and slid her finger across the AI control. She’d let her one true friend lay dormant for too long. Was that what gave her those depressing thoughts? Being alone in a foreign place? It made sense. She turned the AI on.

  A face fizzled into view on her handtab screen, a silhouette of zeros and ones that formed into a comforting human visage. G.O.D.’s voice rang in her earpiece. “Hydrocarbon waste piles up in prominent politicians!” G.O.D. said in a sing-song tone.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Joan asked.

  “It means I landed the twenty ball!” Trian said from across the table, not privy to her conversation.

  “Oh-so-happy with my luh-uv…,” G.O.D. resumed a different song.

  “G.O.D.” Joan said sternly.

  Her companions paused their game and looked at her in confusion. Yui narrowed her eyes in thought. “Oh, you’re talking to your AI. I got the briefing on that.” She paid no more heed and returned her attention to her game.

  “J-Joan?” G.O.D. asked. The AI sounded, oddly, confused.

  “Yes,” Joan said, leaning forward in excitement toward the screen as if special conditions mattered to the AI.

  “I’ve been unable to restore my data systems. The makers—”

  “Yes, you need to sync with them. You told me. Where are they at?”

  “The Mech World. I have coordinates uploaded into your handtab. This is critical. I cannot maintain my stability for long periods of time,” G.O.D. said.

  “I’m a bit stuck right now. I need to rescue someone. We’re on Mars, a long way from the Mech World. Are you stable enough to help us?”

  “I have appr
oximately a fifty percent ability to function before… before… Before you gooooo, stay with me one more night my love,” G.O.D. sang again.

  “There are worse ways you could fall apart. At least I get songs out of it.” Joan tapped her fingers on the table. “I’m going to keep you active, but on mute. When I need you, I’ll try to keep you on task. It’s all we can do until I can get off this planet again. Okay?”

  “As you wish, Ms. Shengtu,” G.O.D. said.

  Joan clicked the mute button, but let the program run. At least he was here and could hear her. That gave Joan some comfort. It’d been over an hour since they were supposed to meet their contact, and he still hadn’t arrived. Her companions didn’t seem worried about the mission, but Joan couldn’t help but wonder if this trip may be a fool’s errand.

  Chapter 14

  Down, Below Station

  Mars—The Underlevels

  Local Date February 10th, 2464

  The halls surrounding the lower executive level apartments were quiet. Holovid tickers lit the corridors as they always did, but with less people than Dario was used to walking the hallways for this time of day. He had earned a couple of days off with recent gains in productivity, which he promptly booked, citing that after nearly a month of service in his new position, he needed time to recharge. It was true, but his vision of how to recuperate wasn’t in line with normal corporate recommended R&R time.

  He glanced around, paranoid. Both he and Jake had requested vacation today. If anyone paid any attention to their coordination, it would appear suspicious. Jake had tried to reassure him that they were seen as friends and it wouldn’t trigger any security watch protocols. Friends spent time with friends, right? Dario wasn’t so certain. With his fast tracked corporate life, he hadn’t spent much time bonding with his peers. Even in back in school, he felt his father’s watchful gaze, disapproving of too much leisure time. “You can use your time better studying,” Mr. Anazao had told Dario.