Marten glanced back and then at Omi. “Hey,” he said. Omi raised an eyebrow. Marten nodded at Nadia. The two of them each took an arm and helped her run.
Marten couldn’t believe he was doing this again. Four and half years ago, he’d hidden in the Sun Works Factory like a rat. His parents had been alive and the monolith of Social Unity had ruled the four Inner Planets.
It had all started seven years ago when Political Harmony Corps had brutally suppressed the unionization attempt of the Sun Works Engineers. If he’d asked, Marten was sure Nadia could have told him a grim tale about that time. Social Unity, it was said back then, provided for all, was all. The State and its people were one, thus unionization was an absurdity, a non sequitur. Thus, the engineer’s strike had been dispersed—a word that failed to convey the savage fighting, the interrogations and the police murders of the ringleaders and their lieutenants. A few Unionists had slipped into hiding among the millions of kilometers of passageways and empty maintenance corridors. Most of them were caught and killed after some agonizing torture. Marten, his father and mother, with several others, had kept one step ahead of the hunters and built an ultra-stealth pod in an abandoned, high radiation area. The long-range goal had been to slip from the Inner Planets and to the Jupiter Confederation or anywhere beyond the reach of the Social Unity fanatics.
PHC had caught his mother and father and killed them. He’d used emergency computer codes and a special credcard that his mother had forged in order to board a shuttle to Earth and then to Australian Sector.
He knew the hidden passageways of the Sun Works Factory, or some of them, at least. But that was a lifetime ago. The Highborn invasion, joining Free Earth Corps in Australia, the brutal Japan Campaign and then transferred to the shock troopers—What if seven years ago his parents had surrendered like everyone else? Would he and Nadia be friends now? It might have happened.
Despite her sorry state, she was pretty and had a beautiful, heart-shaped face.
Omi cleared his throat. Marten gave him a swift glance and then quit staring at Nadia. There was no time to stop and look at the scenery, not and get that vacc suit he hoped was where they made dust. Once he found a vacc suit, he could spacewalk to the forgotten pod.
“Could we stop, please,” Nadia wheezed.
They ignored her. After awhile they turned a corner. The maintenance passage seemed to go on forever.
“Please,” she wheezed, “my sides are going to explode.”
“For a minute,” Marten said.
She slumped to the floor and then slid against a wall as she gasped. She tore off her cap and shook out damp, shoulder-length hair. It made her prettier.
Marten and Omi squatted on their heels, waiting.
She took a rag and mopped her face. She seemed on the verge of speaking and then simply kept on breathing hard.
“Is it much farther?” Marten asked. He studied her, her features and the pretty way her lips quivered.
“Using this route,” she wheezed. “It’s another two kilometers.”
They waited, and her breathing started evening out.
“We’d better go,” Omi said, sounding impatient.
“Wait,” she said. “My side finally isn’t hurting.”
Omi glanced at Marten.
“We’ll give her another minute,” Marten said.
Omi stared stonily at the floor.
“They won’t let us in,” she said.
“That’s not what you said before,” Marten said.
“Do you know how security-conscious they are?”
“I can imagine.”
“Then you should know that I’m not cleared.”
“You worked the sump,” he said.
“That’s different. That’s manufacturing. We’re heading to distribution, where they store the product. They’re crazy about protection.” She put her cap on. “Maybe we should call the whole thing off.”
“Right,” Marten said. “Then Hansen’s people find you and shove you out an airlock.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” she said. “You two must have heard it wrong. Hansen can’t afford to kill me. He worked too hard finding someone with my training and position. He needs me.”
“We need you too,” Omi said, without warmth.
She licked her lips. “I can understand that. How about I simply tell you how to get in?”
“No,” Marten said, standing, motioning her to get up.
She didn’t move. “I’m going to insist on doing this another way. You see—”
Omi jerked her to her feet. Marten took the other arm and they started jogging, forcing her to run.
“You’re killing me, doing this,” she said. “They’ll hunt me down and make an example.”
“You were already dead,” Omi said.
“No, I refuse to believe that. Hansen needs me. This is murder what you’re doing.”
Marten stopped so suddenly that Omi didn’t quite realize it in time. They pulled Nadia two ways. She yelled. Omi let go. Marten swung her around to face him. “What we’re doing is murder? What do you think dream dust does to people?”
“Huh?” she said, frowning, looking perplexed.
“People waste away is what happens!” Marten said. “They snort dust, dream their fantasies and forget to eat and drink and even sleep. It kills them if they have enough dust.”
“Hey,” she said, “they don’t have to buy it.”
“They don’t have to buy it!” Marten said, outraged. “Woe to them! You have rushed for profit into Balaam’s error.”
“Come again,” said Nadia. She glanced at Omi, but he looked as confused as she did. Then she became suspicious. “Are you saying you don’t want the dream dust?”
Omi shook his head and turned away.
“You really don’t want the dust,” Nadia said in surprise. “Then what do you want? Why are you even here?”
“Listen to me,” Marten said. “We’re going in and taking the dust.”
She laughed. “No, I don’t think you can take it. So that means I’m out of here.” She turned to go.
Marten put his projac under her chin.
She looked deep into his eyes, and smiled. “No, you can’t shoot me either.”
“I can,” Omi said softly.
“Yes,” she said after a moment. “I believe you could. But would he let you?”
Marten exhaled sharply. “Nadia, I’m desperate. I don’t like making a profit out of other people’s misery—in fact, I won’t. But I’ll kill to stay alive.”
“And to make staying alive worth it,” Omi added.
Marten nodded.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Nadia.
“Never mind,” Marten said.
“Let me get this straight,” she said. “I’m supposed to help you rob the monitors. From that moment on, I’m on the run. But none of this is to make any credits. No, it’s to do…” She lifted her eyebrows.
Marten wished he could keep his mouth shut when it counted. But whatever else happened, he had to have a vacc suit.
Omi said, “We’re undercover operatives who watch the monitors.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. You wouldn’t have needed the barcode eraser from Hansen.”
“Wrong,” Omi said. “We had to make it look as if—”
“If you two want my help you’ll have to tell me what’s really going on. No more smoke,” she said.
Omi glared at Marten, slicing one of his fingers across his muscled throat.
Marten said, “Look—”
“Were they really going to kill me?” she asked.
“Maybe,” Marten said, “maybe just beat you up or just talk to you sternly.”
“But you didn’t hear Hansen order my death?” she asked.
“I didn’t. No.”
Omi groaned, shaking his head.
“Look,” Marten told him. “If we have someone on the outside helping us we can finish faster.”
“Finish what faster?” she asked.
“Let me ask you a question,” Marten said. “Do you want to live here?”
“In the Sun Works Factory?” she asked.
“No,” Marten said, “in the Inner Planets.”