“Anything unusual. I don’t know. If I see it, I’ll tell you what it is.”
“I hate being in one place so long. I mean sitting and piloting is one thing, but just sitting here staring out, at who knows what, waiting for who knows what, and just—
The kid’s nickname was more appropriate than anyone thought. Sometimes he believed the pilot made up the whole story about forgetting to deploy the mechanism to slow his atmosphere jet to a safe speed.
It was far more likely he got the name because his mouth never seemed to stop flapping.
“Flaps . . . quiet. You’re disturbing me. Whether you feel threatened or not, make no mistake—we are in some form of danger just by being here. We don’t know who might be aware of our mission or who might be expecting us. This assignment has too many unknowns. Don’t forget Rigel. This entire shindig is unusual. Fleet officers—with no real operative training other than myself—deployed on a mission supposedly of this importance? Just run it around in your own head quietly, see what conclusion you come to and keep it to yourself. But something isn’t right with this entire setup.”
Miroslav sipped his dark beverage. “I think you’re reading too much into this,” he said, smacking his lips. “You’re hanging around the spy lady too much. She’s contaminated all of you with her paranoia. You just need to relax. Look at me I’m the still photo of relaxation.”
“Picture,” Lee corrected.
“What?”
“If you’re going to borrow old Earth slang, at least get it right.”
The upstart raised both eyebrows.
“But the Commander uses—
“Commander Rayne was born on Atlas but he was raised by an Earther. So he’ll know them well. You just stick to flying.”
Miroslav sighed. “Why does everyone tell me to stick to flying?”
“Probably because it’s the only thing you’re good at?”
The kid laughed uncomfortably loud. Other patrons briefly glanced in their direction.
“Lee, you know if I didn’t know better . . .”
Lee was staring with intensity at something across the street and Miroslav’s voice trailed off.
“What is it, Lee?” he asked.
“Something strange is happening in the transit station. Come on.”
Lee stood and motioned for Miroslav to follow. He exited the diner and began to make his way across the street to the air-car terminal. He only saw the brief flash before darkness took him.
****
The upper city of Atlas was a stark contrast to the lower levels. Some citizens preferred to live close to the ground. More so those with untreated vertigo. The others just preferred not to be at the mercy of gravity, fearing some freak incident that had never occurred and probably never would.
The citizens in the streets still utilized ground transportation. There were many automated underground and surface mass transit systems and even personal transportation. The upper city regulated traffic differently. You summoned an air-car and spoke your destination and the computer guided the car to its destination. There hadn’t been a collision in civilian air traffic for a hundred years. In some instances you needed a security pass in order to instruct the air transport to convey you to your destination. Such was the level of security on tech-5 worlds.
Having spent most of his years in space, Aaron figured this was probably the third time he’d ever used civilian air transport. He still preferred ground transports which he had a measure of control over. Rachael was seated to his right looking out the viewport.
“Aaron, aren’t you at least going to take a glance? How can you command a starship and get motion sickness in an air-car?”
He shrugged. “Easy. I can’t feel the difference between the ground and a starship deck,” he said, clenching his teeth. It wouldn’t do good to throw up on her now, not when they were getting along so well. “They really should add inertia compensators to these things.”
“They decided not to,” she said. “Otherwise it would be as bland as space. I never get tired of it, no matter how many times I’ve been on upper city transports.”
“Bland is good . . . I’m glad at least one of us is enjoying this,” he said, holding over. “I might need your assistance to disembark. I don’t feel so good.”
She turned to him.
“Oh my,” she said. “I didn’t know it was this bad. Wait . . . you’re not going to heave your guts in here are you?”
He squeezed his eyes shut tight. “I’ve considered your reaction to just such an eventuality and decided to try hard not to.”
Her lips curled into a thin smile. “Thanks for the consideration . . . I think.”
He risked a glance up at her and caught her blue eyes. They served to distract him from the motion of the air-car. “So tell me why our pre-arranged signal leads us to a couples club?”
“Again?” she asked. “Does it sound more convincing the more I explain?”
“Humor me for the moment. It’s something to keep my brain focused on besides the movement of this evil thing.”
She laughed. Either she was enjoying seeing him squirm with motion sickness, or she was enjoying a light moment in good jest—albeit at his expense.
“Couples clubs on Atlas are notoriously shrouded in secrecy and privacy. It’s the best place for a meeting of this kind. Our contact proposed it and we agreed.”
“I don’t disagree with your reasoning,” he said. “And in any event, you’re in command down here when it comes to the wheeling and dealing.”
She paused her sightseeing to study him. “Is that how you really think of it?”
“It isn’t quite how I imagined it would be, but I’m certain even this has been an unusual assignment for you.”
She nodded. “It has. Usually assignments are unexciting. You go somewhere, you debrief a source, or you meet with a contact, or watch a target for weeks. And the only thing sinister your target does is maybe obtain a fraudulent ticket for an interstellar tour. At least that’s been my experience.”
The air-car stopped at the disembarking pad affixed to a large octagonal platform. A long gangway stretched almost forever into a vertical structure which ascended through the clouds. A host greeted them and escorted them into the VIP lounge area of the club. The local tech-5 company employees certainly knew how to relax from their high-pressure work schedules.
Seated in a closed off section away from everyone, it was time to blend in. The host set down the drink Aaron ordered, a dark colored bubbly beverage.
“What did you order again?” Rachael asked.
“Forget it, it’s an old Earth drink—carbonated—you wouldn’t like it.”
She looked at their host. “I’ll have the same thank you.”
When the host returned with her drink and she had her first sip, her lips curled into a frown.
He snickered. “It’s my father’s favorite.”
Music blared from the speakers. Their partition wasn’t sound proof. Probably so for all the booths. The facilitators probably figured the patrons in the booths wanted to hear the music. And if they didn’t, they could go to any one of the other thousands of similar establishments. They all had the same mandate—keeping the citizens happy and productive.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled. That caught him. Her beauty was stunning and it was hard not to stare. It was more evident since she’d dropped her near permanent scowl she seemed so fond of. Her light blue eyes radiated.
She looked over at him. She’d caught him staring.
“What?” she asked. But her smile had not completely faded.
Aaron shrugged. “Nothing, it’s just . . . I like your smile. You should smile more often.”