Chapter 30
Arco finished the last bite of her mealpack and leaned back against the bench. The second lunch shift was finally clearing out of the common room. The space, otherwise known as Cargo Hold Bravo, served as the freighter’s dining hall, meeting room, and general recreation area.
She smiled at the sight of Fish convincing four younger children that picking up spilled metal fasteners was a delightful game.
Giselle, Fish’s fiercely loyal shadow, added silly dance moves to accompany each fastener dropped back into the plastic container.
Brenner sat beside Arco on the bench, watching everyone while seeming not to.
They shared a rectangular collapsible table with Soleil, Josh, Rustom, Haseem, Minan, N’Dwama, Tōn Ko, and Nilsson. Despite the chilly air in the hold, it smelled like an outdoor hot-food market.
Soleil had sourced a massive quantity and a wide variety of mealpacks before their hasty departure.
She obviously knew her students. The retired Jumpers easily consumed two or three packs at a single sitting.
The freighter’s tiny galley kitchen was laughably inadequate for even a basic flight crew, and completely useless in feeding sixty passengers.
Rustom leaned forward on his elbows, which made his shoulders look even wider than they already were.
“Captain, do we have power, water, and funds to buy more clothes sanitizers? I’m thinkin’ three commercial or six hostel size.
The bigger families are fightin’ over the two we have now.
” He pushed the mealpack’s fork into its slot and stacked the empty container on top of his other two.
“If we get them at a good price when we land on Cypralia tomorrow, we can sell ‘em for a profit to a space station. Or save ‘em for an indie trader fair and to trade for things we don’t want a receipt trail for.”
Soleil nodded, her expression thoughtful. “I think so, but check with Solomon first. One of our filtration units might be malfing.”
Arco found herself thoroughly enjoying the crash course in practical ship operations. She had traveled extensively as a passenger on commercial transports and on a couple of luxury liners. The behind-the-scenes logistics of keeping a ship and its occupants functioning were fascinating.
A few passengers grumbled about the cramped accommodations, because some people were naturally gratitude-challenged.
Arco preferred to think of the battered freighter as a boutique cruise liner for the budget-minded.
The tiny rooms were “cabins,” the cramped nav pod was the “Captain’s deck,” and the cavernous common room offered scheduled “seatings” for dining.
A day ago, Soleil had dropped the ship out of transit space just long enough to download a massive backlog of comms packets.
They would be able to get full, live communications again once they entered realspace in the Cypralia system tomorrow.
The CGC’s galactic communications net used transit space for near-instant message delivery across the galaxy.
Sadly, no one had yet figured out how a ship actively moving through transit space could access that same network.
“Any sparks from Andromeda?” Tōn Ko asked. He quoted the popular song lyrics with a wry smile, pointing a finger at Arco’s pink tablet resting on the table beside her elbow.
Arco shook her head. “No. The newstrends are mostly full of catastrophe farming right now.”
N’Dwama paused with her drink halfway to her mouth. “They’re what?”
“Low substance, high word count stories focusing on the Mabingion mess and the rest of the chaos the CPS is causing,” Arco explained. “Throwaway publish-and-run content for the purpose of generating fast revenue. We’ll be able to source more reliable information tomorrow when we reach Cypralia.”
Josh frowned. “When you said you were changing your name, I didn’t realize how serious you were.
I was checking mortality lists, though they’re admittedly untrustworthy right now.
I came across your farewell article. It’s very good.
” He’d been noticeably subdued since the packet pickup.
Arco wondered if the mortality lists had names he knew.
“Thanks. I owed closure to Arco’s fans and subscribers.
” She traced the edge of her tablet. “The first serious death threat I received about seven or eight years ago made me realize I might need to disappear someday. Or that I might actually be dead. I didn’t want to leave a mess.
My final-exit plan automatically transferred my intellectual property to my co-authors or designated charities.
Right before we launched, I transferred my story register directly to Tapio and Novo Granica Media, with a request that they publish my ‘see you in the next reality’ letter. ”
Minan rested her chin on her hand. “What name should we be calling you, then?”
“We may as well stick with ‘Arco’ for now,” Arco said.
“It’s common enough. I’ll pick a new name once I visit a bodyshop to change my look again.
But first, I need to find a new identity service.
The rumors say CPS employees are leaving their posts in droves.
The market is about to be flooded with scammers selling identities that will blow away at the first checkpoint.
” Brenner had said he’d need a new identity, too.
This time, he didn’t need her help with that.
Josh leaned forward, the light catching his differently colored eyes. “We know a very good provider. They can handle new records for everyone on board if needed. They can also help make sure your death notice gets transmitted securely throughout the CGC.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Arco saw Soleil cover a slight smile with a napkin.
Arco’s finder talent had remained blissfully dormant for days.
She had spent the time sleeping deeply, cuddling with Brenner, and wondering if she had committed an egregious error in burning down her entire journalism platform.
Now, her talent flared and insisted that Josh, who had apparently altered the freighter’s records on the fly to convince Mabingion Spaceport control that they were another ship entirely, was actually the provider himself.
Arco firmly ordered her hyperactive brain to stand down. It wasn’t her business. She trusted both Josh and Soleil with her life and Brenner’s.
Nilsson shifted slightly in her seat. The healer was still moving carefully, but was looking better every day. “What’s next for you?” Arco had noticed that Nilsson had an uncanny sense of timing for asking difficult questions. She’d probably make a good journalist.
“I don’t know yet,” Arco admitted. “Too many possibilities. Too many unknowns. Too many enemies.” Making the wrong choice could easily get them all killed. She felt like she was outside a ship in an exosuit with a fraying lifeline.
Brenner slid his hand over hers. His palm was warm and slightly rough. “We have time.”
Arco placed her other hand on top of his. His solid, anchoring strength kept her racing thoughts from spinning into chaos. “Thank you,” she murmured quietly.
She turned her attention back to her security team. “What do you all want to do next? Your Novo Granica contracts are probably still active.”
Minan rolled her shoulders. “My civilian life is based in Ridderth, but I am definitely due for a vacation. I plan to stay away at least until after the city digs out of the snow.”
N’Dwama tapped fingers on the table. “I’m going back soon. I still need to pay off my racing flyer. I also need more certified experience to secure a better security license rating. I’ll probably stay with Novo G if they let me.”
Minan’s face took on teasing look. “If they terminate your contract, you could ask Wutala for a job. She seems to treat her people well.”
“Hell, no.” N’Dwama gave an exaggerated shudder. “Hujuru was bad enough. Wutala terrifies me.”
“I’m going back to Ridderth with N’Dwama and Novo G,” said Tōn Ko. He heaved a quiet sigh. “I should probably check in with my family. They’ll probably be sad to learn I’m not on the mortality lists.”
Arco felt a stirring of anger. She wished fame and fortune for beautiful, competent Tōn Ko, purely so his asshole family would sorely regret rejecting him because of his minder talents.
A startling realization snuck up on Arco.
For twenty years, she had exchanged brief, coded messages with her parents to confirm that they were still thinking of each other.
Suddenly, she was now free to actually visit her family in person.
She could act like a normal person. She laughed at herself.
She wouldn’t recognize normal if it wore a nametag.
Rustom turned his gaze on Arco. “I am sorry you’re havin’ to leave your career. People need their stories told. People need justice. The CPS sure as hell needs long-overdue justice, and lots of it.”
“That reminds me,” Arco said, glad to move onto familiar ground for a moment.
“The CPS press office officially attributed Marshal Temhathor’s death to the century storm, not anything to do with local terrorist activities.
The same release announced that Administrator Jane Pennington-Smythe has accepted a new mission-related position at CPS headquarters.
” She gave her friends a wry smile. “Translated, the CPS is trying to make Mabingion wear the Shattered Chain debacle, and Pennington-Smythe is currently in deep shit with CPS leadership.” She widened her grin.
“Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person. ”
“Where is the CGC military in all this?” Haseem’s expression reflected his aggrieved tone. “They should be helping in the disaster response. They should be restoring order.”