Grand Cross Page 10

  “Let’s do this,” Aralyn said.

  Here and there inside of the large metal dock was a small sconce of white illumination, but for the most part, the interior of the station thus far was quite dim. Since the largest part of the installation was the fantasy club Redux, it didn’t surprise her that they might have wanted to set some “mood” lighting; either that, or they wanted to give their clients some semblance of privacy, even though Aralyn was sure that using just about anything here would have your ID scanned in three milliseconds and into a scammer’s database for future pickings.

  Anyone who comes here with their real ID on them and doesn’t expect to get ripped off probably deserves whatever they get, she thought with a grimace, shutting off her wrist module, just in case.

  The walkway ramp was open, apart from the other docked bays where gangplanks came to rest, and they hopped in slow motion down the central path to the large black double doors at the end.

  “Airlock?” said Riordan, somehow managing to look displeased as he danced his way through the low gravity air toward the end. “Inconvenient for escape, don’t you think?”

  “But maybe that works to our advantage,” Caden said. “We can’t get away fast, but neither can they.”

  The doors slid open effortlessly, almost silently, and revealed an even darker, barely-lit chamber illuminated by the purple of holo-field scanners.

  “This cost someone money,” Kita said, staring as they stepped inside. “A lot of money.”

  Aralyn nodded her agreement. Most stations like this had robotic scans if they had any at all, and those were often just for show. But this wasn’t just an airlock or a scanner. It was a huge, nearly impregnable safe. If whoever was on the other side of that door didn’t want them getting out, they weren’t going to.

  “Fuck,” Riordan said as the lights came alive, scanning them up and down, probably documenting their faces, running them through an orbital 3D search program to confirm identities.

  The blinking red lights flashing along on either side of the big black box indicated they were still searching.

  “Better hope to hell our snitch didn’t choose this place because he knows the guy that owns it,” Caden whispered, as though speaking louder might alert someone to this knowledge. “And I hope they don’t check for criminals often, because our IDs are definitely going to show up.”

  “Do you really think a sex den is going to care about its clients’ criminal backgrounds?” Riordan said with a put-upon sigh. “It’s probably for blackmail purposes.”

  “Does it matter?” Aralyn responded. Behind them, the doors sealed shut again, closing them within the holo-field tomb. “We have to get in here. Just go with it for now.”

  A skinny drawer in one of the door panels in front of them opened up, maybe two yards wide, revealing a display of various types of holo-masks next to empty gun holsters made of soft foam that would hold them deep and safe within the strange drawer.

  “Welcome to Halis Three, travelers,” said a delighted male voice from hidden speakers somewhere inside of the chamber. “We are so pleased that you”―he moaned loud and long for a bizarre moment―“chose our fantasy database for all of your”―another moan interrupted his sentence, and was followed by the sound of a woman furiously whispering, ‘Yeah, yeah, baby’―“sensual needs. Unfortunately, there are no weapons allowed on this station. Please place your gun within the provided holster and uhhn―”

  Silence punctuated his sentence, and the four runners looked apprehensively to each other. Kita wiggled her eyebrows at Riordan, who coughed and looked away.

  “Choose a mask, if you like,” said the peculiar voice, as though he was completely ignorant of the sexual interruptions to his prepared speech. “Many of our patrons prefer the anonymity that our biometric scan-retardant masks provide when they come to stay. We register four weapon IDs on your persons. If you want to come and play… we need to count absolutely none.”

  Aralyn began to sweat. The short barrel shotgun she’d gotten from Kragg was in its specially-crafted holster beneath her trench coat against her back. There was a modded pistol on one hip as well, which must have been one of the weapons they’d identified. Each of them carried a gun that could be given over, certainly, but it was clear that someone with money had intended for this place to be free of weaponry.

  She was torn. Reveal the shotgun and risk them being refused entry or worse, having them try to take it, or keep it secret and risk someone inside seeing it? She gave a quick glance and headshake to Caden when she saw him eyeing her back, but she had to risk it. Old Earth guns were so rare that to chance losing one―especially one that Kragg had given her―was enough to make her feel ill.

  She unholstered her modded pistol and set it inside the drawer and picked up a masquerade mask. It covered a good half of the left side of her face with fine holo-field purple filigree, and some of her temple with a single, vine-like cut out around her eyes. When she put it on and secured it in place, giant holo feathers shaped like peacocks’ tails sprouted from the side of the mask, draping over the burns on her scalp and resting on her shoulder and over her breast. The colors and feathers shimmered as she moved.

  Kita placed her gun in the drawer, followed by Caden, and finally Riordan. They each picked up the masks, and in turn, the LED colors in the tiny holo-emitters covering their faces seem to come alive once secured to their heads. Kita chose a jester-style mask with a large, sweeping points that stretched from forehead to the middle of her scalp and ended in several gentle bells that shivered as she moved, letting loose tiny, delicate twinkles with every shift of her head.

  Caden’s, much more austere, was a solid piece that covered his eyes and nose and a good portion of his forehead as well with a purple and clear checkerboard pattern. The bottom piece stretched down to cover his upper lip, and the mask shifted to give him the appearance of a skeleton with fine filigree running along the edges. When Riordan picked up the final mask selection, Kita nearly choked on laughter as two twisted horns curled from the top of the mask and protruded a good distance off of his forehead into the air.

  “You look so… devilish,” Kita giggled, waving her fingers through the holo-horns.

  “What?” he demanded, searching for another mask inside the drawer. “It’s not like I have some other choice.” He took the mask off and at once the curled horns evaporated. He held it out to Caden. “Trade with me.”

  “Not on your life,” Caden said, holding back a wry smile. “Besides, I think it suits you.”

  Scowling, Riordan put the mask down. “Can I get another?” he called out. When no reply came, he snatched the mask up and attached it to his face once more. The drawer snapped closed as the horns “burst” from the top of his scalp.

  “You can retrieve your weapons upon your departure. The mask on your face is the identifying marker for which safe your items are in,” said the voice, “so don’t lose them.”

  Aralyn nodded, fighting the urge to tighten her jacket around herself as the doors opened with a gentle hiss in front of them.

  “Welcome to paradise,” said the stranger.

  Chapter Five

  The walkway was lit along the top and bottom with rails of soft white light that reflected against the colorless, semi-plastic walls. To their right and left, the path curved up on either side of the doorway, leading further into the station. It was surprisingly clean, considering what the station was used for, and empty of other visitors. From further inside, however, the distant sounds of music shivered through the walls along with high-pitched screams, low moans, and laughter.

  “What, no ambush?” Kita said, grabbing hold of a velvet red rope along the side of the wall that she used to pull herself up into the sloping rise of the hallway. “I’m kind of insulted, actually.”

  “Well, don’t be, because you might just get your wish still yet,” Caden reminded her. “We don’t know what comes once we get in there and actually meet the guy.”

  “If we meet
him,” Aralyn grumbled. She took hold of the rope as well and followed Kita up the incline. “If experience has taught me anything, it’s that we’re idiots for even coming to this place.”

  They carried along in silence, each eyeing the sloping floor ahead of them with disdain.

  Thanks to the lower gravity, the steep walkway was less like mountain climbing and more like moon walking. However, there seemed to be slightly less gravity within the halls of Halis Three than there had been in the docking bay, if Aralyn’s feet tending to stay slightly elevated off the floor was any indication.

  Riordan’s glasses hovered off the nose of his mask and he scowled, shoving them back down, trying to pinion them behind his ears. “Well this is going to be terrible,” he groused. “And we’re going to have to be here for how long to wait for this… person?”

  Once they’d successfully crested the ramp, the hall leveled out but curved inward toward the asteroid itself. Aralyn spied doorways in the rock, spaced out in approximate distances, as though no one had measured when they started making the original entryways. She assumed they were probably old mining tunnels, and this rock likely hadn’t been mined by a “proper” company, resulting in quick, shoddy work to get to the core as fast as possible. A few people talked and hung out around the doorways, making small talk, perhaps deciding which areas to patronize. They too, wore the masquerade-like holo-masks, obscuring their identities from several of the security cameras posted near the top of the walls in multiple areas.

  There were portholes along the right-hand side that allowed for a glimpse out into outer space, and Aralyn floated gently over to one, taking a quick peek outside. She saw the docking area and their ship, the Phantom, resting amid the dozens of other ships on the deck, and beyond that, the dazzling scope of stars twinkling in the deep-set night.

  The sensation reminded her of when she was a teenager, in Kragg’s workshop in the garden on Mars, trying to pick out which star was Earth. They’d made up stories about the farm they’d have; the garden they’d grow. Soil wouldn’t have cost an arm and a leg on Earth; it was literally everywhere. She found herself blinking back tears before too long.

  She’d promised Kragg they’d both get back to Earth one day; retire, live in peace. And now look at her. Tracking down leads on his cold trail while the whole of the criminal galaxy sniffed at her heels. And that wasn’t even to mention the flood of guilt that filled her at the realization that he’d likely been kept under orachal since his kidnapping.

  Caden’s hand on her shoulder brought Aralyn back to the present and she turned to face him. Behind the mask, she could still make out the concern in his gaze. It wasn’t the first time she’d spaced on him recently. And despite all of his own rage and guilt, he still somehow pulled himself out of his own funk from time to time.

  “Are you all right? You seemed kind of… lost for a second.”

  Aralyn offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. The truth was, she wanted to cry on his shoulder about just how unfair life was, but mentally kicked herself back into gear. She couldn’t demand that everyone else stay focused and not do the same thing herself. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m okay. Just… thinking.”

  Behind the holo-skeleton teeth, Caden’s mouth set in a firm line. He wisely chose not to push the subject and said instead, “Head in the game, Ari. You need to be one hundred percent on this, okay?”

  Aralyn rolled her eyes, irritated that he’d basically read her mind. Way to bring me crashing back down to reality. “I know that,” she snapped, pushing past the windows and down the hall toward a large set of double doors. Maybe work on keeping your head out of your ass.

  The music grew louder here, and the word “Redux” flashed in giant holo-letters above the entrance to the club. Inside, the lights were low, and neons strobed by every so often. Aralyn whistled in appreciation once she reached the doors and the others came to a halt beside her. Inside, the club was one large room chiseled directly out of the rock itself. There was a large bar along the back wall, an enormous light-up dance floor in the middle, and some tables around the room with velvet curtains draped down in front of a few. Various low lights lined the walls along the floor, and every so often changed their colors and flashed in time with the bass of the music.

  There were a couple of doors around the room, but directly to the left of the dance floor was another large set of double doors that were closed. Screams of what Aralyn assumed were pleasure came tearing out when a man pushed the door open, his arm around a tiny woman wearing nothing but a thong, his mask crooked on his head. In his other hand was a glass bottle that he tried―unsuccessfully―to pour into his mouth. He guffawed in delight as it went all over his shirt and his companion instead.

  “Gravity’s heavier in here,” Caden pointed out. “Watch the first step.”

  “Guess it’s hard to get drunk when your alcohol’s floating out of the bottle,” Kita added.

  “I don’t think it matters to that guy either way,” Riordan huffed.

  Aralyn pushed a leg inside and felt the heavier pull of gravity, just as Caden suspected. Though it wasn’t as heavy as ship or full planetside gravity, it took a second to adjust to the weight of her body. Each of the runners entered carefully, allowing themselves the chance to catch their weight before stepping fully into the room. Likely, Aralyn realized, Redux was on a separate generator than the rest of the station.

  Aralyn searched the room for anyone meeting the description of “slim and dark haired,” but with such vague details, it was impossible to narrow down from the clusters of guests in the darkened room. It wasn’t as though they could go around interrogating random strangers, anyway, and chances were good they’d gotten there well before their informant. They’d just need to keep a low profile and scope the area out as well as they could.

  A short blonde woman came dancing up next to them holding a spray bottle of perfume in her hand. Her mask was a giant shark’s mouth flashing open and closed with the words Nom nom! lighting up the corner of each eye.

  “Sample some of our finest gentlemen’s cologne!” she shouted over the music. “It’s guaranteed to make your experience magical!”

  Without waiting for an answer, she sprayed the cologne into Caden’s face. With a laugh, she danced off again, and Aralyn lost sight of the strange woman in the crowd as Caden coughed and wiped at his face and tongue, spitting the taste of perfume out.

  “Dammit!” he said, trying to use his jacket sleeve to wipe the cologne away. “She got it in my mouth. What is wrong with these people?!”

  Kita wrinkled her nose. “That stuff is not the best. But hey, look on the bright side,” she said with a shrug. “It could be something to give you an awesome trip.”

  “Great, so I’ll be out of my mind on psychedelics while we’re running for our lives,” Caden said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve gotta clean myself up. I’ll take a look around when I get back from the bathroom.”

  “All right, we’ll cross that bridge if we get to it,” Aralyn said, raising her voice above the loud music as she spied the perfume-spraying woman going full Pepé le Pew on several other strangers. “Get an idea of the exits on this place that might lead to other parts of the asteroid. Kita, can you―”

  “Ooh! I call dancing! I call dance floor mingling! I’ll look around for the guy, promise!” Kita shouted, practically bouncing up and down, eyes wide below her jester mask.

  Aralyn smiled. At least their situation hadn’t killed everyone’s ability to have fun. “Sure. Rio―”

  “I’m getting a drink,” he said, holding up a hand and cutting her off before she could continue. “A real drink.”

  Aralyn held her hands up in surrender. She’d already learned to recognize his moods and when there was no point in arguing with the hacker. Caden kissed her cheek and moved into the darker parts of the room, skirting the shadows while Kita started dancing her way onto the light-up floor, exuberance on her face and in her bouncy step. Aralyn knew she would need to figur
e out where the double doors led to, but several big-armed guards posted at points around the room―including just beside the doorway―left her uncertain of where to begin. She scanned the room instead, taking in the sights of writhing bodies beneath the strobe lights.

  “Everyone certainly is… friendly,” she muttered to herself.

  A couple people were milling around the outskirts of the crush of bodies on the dance floor, talking, or trying to work up their nerve to dance, but like her, they just looked like spectators. It was easy to see more than a few of them were downing liquid courage as quickly as possible in an attempt to lower their inhibitions. Aralyn bypassed them all and headed over for the bar, where Rio was already holding up a hand to get the bartender’s attention. The bartender, a robotic drone in the shape of a metal man, swiveled on a rail that moved around the entire bar almost seamlessly, except for the occasional spasm through his metal body as though he’d been kicked by a boot. He poured several neat shots, one shaky mixed drink that went half on the bar, and then came down to take Riordan and Aralyn’s orders.

  “W-w-w-what can I get-t-t f-f-f-f-for y-y-you?” the bartender asked, stammering as he moved. He was hardly more than a metal person with a perpetual smile on his face, and half-closed eyes that hid the cameras inside connecting to his memory and processing units. As he spoke, he tried to mimic casual body language and lean on the bar, but he spasmed again and slammed his face into it instead.

  “Oh stars,” Aralyn whispered as the bartender pulled himself back upright, recalibrated, and leaned onto an elbow.

  “You got any Feni?” Riordan called over the music.

  The bartender paused for a moment, as though searching its catalogue of drinks and then replied, “W-w-w-why y-yes, I d-do.” He turned to go along the rail to the rather large display of bottles behind him and extended from the pole beneath him to grab a bottle at the very top. When he descended again, he turned and froze, midway back with the bottle of clear alcohol.