The Forgotten Planet

Packing wasn’t much of a problem. I’d been ready to leave on a moment’s notice since beginning our clandestine nighttime career seven years prior. I never knew when the po-po might approach with sirens blaring and probable cause for searching the premises, and so I’d planned accordingly.

I had a few changes of clothes for Adan and myself, toiletries and extra tool sets and compact lab equipment sealed up in containers that fit easily in the storage area of the Gazelle. A ’Buster with a heavy-duty battery pack was built into Betty’s container so we wouldn’t break our backs moving her. In all, the remains of our entire life on Palance sat in five scuffed titanium crates not much bigger than Russell. I hated leaving the bulkier equipment like my quark scanner and 3-D printer behind, but there was only so much room in the Gazelle, and besides, I figured any decent ship would have a well-stocked lab.

We watched from the bright and dusty concourse as the crates were loaded by a guy in a forklift mech into the lower cargo section of the lift car. The car itself was a three-story tube of steel alloy, clear aluminum and a century’s-worth of graffiti. Somewhere in the guts of the mechanism was a high-efficiency antimatter engine that powered the climbing arms that in turn pulled the antique car up the carbon nanotube elevator to the dock in the space station. It was slow as hell, but it was cheap and energy efficient.

“Why’d you get five crates full of equipment, and all I get is this lousy suitcase,” Adan asked, rattling the blue plastic case that he’d filled with clothes and probably hair gel and sex toys.

“Because you waited until the last minute to pack,” I replied. Only three of the crates were actually my stuff. The rest was his gear and his favorite trinkets and decorations. Yes, I packed for him, but I wasn’t ready to tell him yet. Not knowing was his punishment. Yes, I know it was childish. “Plus, you wasted all that time upstairs with Max.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call that time wasted, brozilla,” he replied. “That girls got stamina and more than a little imagination.” He tugged on the lapels of his jacket and asked, “You think she’ll like it?” Adan asked.

He had Ash’s entire cowboy ensemble on: blue denim pants, pointy-toed boots, a blue and white pinstriped shirt with a collar and a high-crowned, wide-brimmed hat that appeared to be made out of straw. The gun and holster were out of sight, but despite the heat, he was wearing the brown felt greatcoat that Ash had called a duster. I was uncomfortable as it was in a T-shirt and cargo pants. I would have melted in that jacket. Poochy sat next to Adan, somehow radiating an air of detached nonchalance. Amazingly, his leash matched Adan’s chapped-leather boots.

“Personally, I think you look ridiculous, but I have a feeling she’ll appreciate the look,” I answered.

Admittedly, Adan didn’t look completely ridiculous. He’s got the square jaw and broad shoulders, as well as the cocksure arrogance, to pull off the look – though his ego’s big enough without me inflating it further.

He narrowed his eyes at me, probably trying to process both the insult and the confirmation he was looking for at the same time.

I turned up One Way Trigger a few notches to block out the waves of competing music wafting through the air from the surrounding bars and restaurants. The elevator was dead center in old Oasis, and establishments that catered to Salarian officers, as well as Vox businessmen and their Terran flunkies, surrounded the ancient piece of colonial technology like unmatched puzzle pieces.

The elevator was standard equipment for all fledgling Confederation colonies – along with the fusion reactor and the orbiting space station – back when Earth was at the height of its power, and Terrans stood as equals among the Great Races of the galaxy. The lift wasn’t even cutting-edge tech at the time it was built here on Palance, but it was relatively simple to build, and inexpensive to maintain and operate. A galactic truism is that colonizing game is always run on a shoestring budget.

I watched a group of Terrans in grey linen suits, laughing and drinking on the outdoor patio of Lux. The stylish business apparel marked them as Vox executives rather than local mafia – not that there was any real difference between the two. Both organizations were corrupt and greedy, and invariably answered to the Salarians.

“Did you want to get a drink while we wait?” Adan asked, mistaking the reason for my stare.

I shook my head. “I just wonder how our own people can work for the enemy.”

He shrugged. “Everyone’s got to make a living, bro. Besides, the Vox aren’t that bad. I’ve made the acquaintance of a few young ladies that worked for Vandal Corp, and they didn’t really have any complaints.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they didn’t,” I answered. “It’s the rest of us they’re screwing over with their corporate monopoly.”

The Vox are the capital arm of the Salarian Empire, and their profits not only fund the occupation of the thousands of conquered worlds, but they fuel the armada that began its push outward from the galactic core a thousand generations ago. Empires are in the business of conquest after all.

“Speak of the devil,” Adan said.

I looked back and saw a Vox dignitary of some sort join the little party. Vox were hard to miss at almost two and a half meters tall, with golden skin and hair and cheekbones carved from granite. They’re a race renowned for their beauty, that I’m pretty sure were born wearing business suits. This one had on a three-piece grey number with a collar that was something between a Mandarin and a turtleneck.

“And here comes the groveling,” I replied.

The moment the Terrans realized their boss had arrived, they dropped to a knee and bowed their heads in the formal corporate greeting reserved for Master Traders. The entire scene made my blood boil.

“How can they have so little self-respect?” I continued, apparently to no one. When I looked up at Adan, he was staring distractingly in the other direction. I turned and followed his gaze to an orange micro-cab and a familiar face through the backseat window.

Maxine slipped out of the cab wearing another tight-fitting bodysuit, this one olive green, with her hair pulled back in a tight bun. After unfolding himself from the back seat, Russell towered beside her in black slacks and a white collared shirt.

“He looks naked without his armor and weapons,” I said, as Russell pulled luggage from the trunk. “And there’s no way all his gear is in those little bags.

“Huh?” Adan asked, obviously distracted by curves and attitude. “Oh right. He probably bribed someone to get them on board. And please don’t use his name and naked in the same sentence. I don’t want that visual bouncing around in my skull.”

“Understood,” I replied.

Max paid the driver with a swipe of his wrister, and he lifted off in search of new clients as soon as our new allies were clear of the rotors. Maxine waved and stalked towards us with the liquid grace of a feline predator, and I swear when she and Adan made eye contact, the sway of her hips increased twenty percent – as did the downward turn of Russell’s lips.

“Hello boys,” Max said after crossing the distance between us. At least half the promenade seemed to have noticed her, and most – regardless of sex, class or species – were openly staring. She ran an index finger down my brother’s cheek, eliciting a small shudder and a goofy smile from him. I squinted at Adan in confusion. This wasn’t the typical cocky Adan on the prowl.

Poochy growled at Russell, but the giant was too busy eye-balling Adan to notice. After a moment he said, “Son, you look like an idiot.”

Adan’s eyes narrowed, but before could answer, Maxine said, “Oh Russ, you have no sense of taste or fashion. I think he looks dashing.” She grabbed his chin and added, “You part of the zero-G club, big boy?”

He grinned. “I’ve been saving myself for just the right girl...”

“Is that so?” Maxine purred.

Adan swallowed and nodded. I had a pretty good idea what they were talking about. There was a point in the elevators climb when Palance’s gravity and the centrifugal force of Palance’s tethered space station exactly cancelled each other out, creating a small window of weightlessness before the floor of the car began to slowly flip on its axis. That would be on the night-cycle portion of the trip, but apparently he wouldn’t be sleeping through the transition.

Russell cleared his throat and said, “I bribed the right people, so no one will be looking too closely at any of our bags. You talked to Pedro?”

I answered, since Adan was paying zero attention. “Yeah, he took our gear and loaded it up, no questions asked.”

Adan and Maxine began to melt into one another, and they were speaking too softly for me to hear above the ambient noise – which was likely a positive. Just watching them, I felt I needed a shower. Poochy didn’t seem to mind. He was leaning into both of them so hard that he’d fall over if they suddenly decided to move.

“We got tickets Russell?” I asked.

“First class,” he replied. “We’re in the top ring.” I raised my eyebrows in surprise. I’d never gone first class anything. “Trust me it’s worth it. Economy isn’t much more than a plastic bench and a communal bucket.” He looked at our distracted party members and said, “We can board if you can separate those two worthless bags of hormones. I’d do it, but I don’t have a water hose.”

“I got this,” I said to Russell. I turned to Adan and said, “Hey bro, the buffet is about to open.”

His eyes flicked to me, clear and focused. Even the dog stopped rubbing his snout against Adan’s thigh to gaze up at me. “Pancakes?”

“Yeah, almost definitely,” I guessed.

Maxine sighed. “We might as well get you filled up. You’ll need the energy this evening.”

“We really need to get in line before it gets any longer,” I said, pointing to the mass of humanity amassed in front of the elevator. They were packed like livestock in a zigzagging line of little metal fences shaped like a giant rectangle. Just the thought of standing out in the sun crammed in with a thousand sweating Terrans spiked my blood pressure twenty points systolic, and I queued Electric Blue almost on reflex. Sometimes I just need to hear Régine’s voice.

Russell snorted. “That line’s for the riffraff traveling in economy.” One of the said riffraff in line seemed to take offense to that characterization until he saw Russell. After his eyes went wide and he sucked in a breath, he must have thought better of the matter because he buried his face in his wrister.

We followed Russ around the line and past the ticketing booth to a door with no handle, marked with a sign that said, “No Access.” Russ waved his wrister at the scanner, and the door slid open.”

“I always thought that door was for the maintenance guys,” I said.

“It’s not really something that’s advertised,” Max said.

“That’s because if you have haven’t heard about it, you probably can’t afford it,” Russell answered.

“Manners Russ,” Maxine chided.

He shrugged and led us down a corridor that ended at an escalator. Poochy was having none of that, so Adan had to carry the nervous dog until we reached the top. There we found a dark-skinned man in a suit and bow tie standing in front of a small, sealed security door. He smiled warmly as we approached and said, “Welcome travelers. May I please see your tickets?” Russell extended his wrister and the man scanned it. “Ah, Mr. Boudin, welcome back. We’ve reserved cabins five through eight. May I call someone to help you with your luggage.”

“Thanks Craig, but we’ll manage,” Russel replied.

The man belatedly noticed Poochy and the leash in Adan’s hand. He looked up and said to my brother, “Sir, I’m terribly sorry, but the canine needs to be crated and placed in storage.”

“That doesn’t work for us pal,” Adan said. I was surprised he could tear his gave away from Maxine’s cleavage, but somehow, he managed. “Poochy doesn’t like crates, and he doesn’t like storage.”

“Again, I apologize sir, but those are the Ares Transport Company’s rules regarding pets and livestock.”

All of a sudden Adan was all chest and flaring nostrils. He stepped forward and said, “How about we see how comfortable you are stuffed in a crate.”

Russell stepped between the man and Adan and pressed some bills into Craig’s hand. “Craig, this here is a therapy dog,” he said softly. “He helps keep that jackass behind me calm. You can see how it would be good to keep him calm, right my man?”

Craig looked between the bills and Adan’s red face a few times. Finally, he said to Russell, “Ok, but maybe you can keep the dog in the cabin for the duration of the trip.

“Absolutely,” Russell said, clapping the man on the back. Somehow Craig remained on his feet.

After Craig got a retinal scan from each of us to key our cabin doors, he voiced a command into his wrister, and the security door slid open. Cool air rushed out of the interior, chilling the sweat on my skin. A light skinned woman in a satin blue cocktail dress greeted us with a big smile and a silver tray laden with drinks in delicate fluted glasses. “Welcome aboard, lady and gentlemen. Would you care for a drink?”

I looked at Russell, a bit confused. I wasn’t used to strangers offering me free booze. He smirked at me and said, “It’s champagne kid.” When I hesitated, he added, “Trust me, you’ll like it.” He gave me what I assume was a friendly shake and I’m pretty sure the force straightened my crooked canines.

I took a glass and examined the contents. “Uh, it’s bubbling,” I said uncertainty. “Is it supposed to be bubbling?”

“Oh, I’ve had this stuff before,” Adan said, taking two glasses and draining one like it was a shot of whiskey. The serving woman continued to smile at us, but the mirth in her face began to fade.

Russell shook his head and said, “Act like you’ve been here before slick.”

I took a sip of champagne just as Régine cut through the second chorus of Sprawl II. It was a perfect moment in time, and I closed my eyes and enjoyed sweet taste on my tongue the dopamine rush in my grey matter.

“You must have been invited to a corporate shindig or two to get a taste for champagne,” Max said to Adan. She delicately scooped a glass off the quickly emptying tray and took a petit sip. I noticed her nails were painted a rich burgundy. They hadn’t been painted the last time I’d seen her. Come to think of it, the black stuff on her eyelashes was new too.

“I’ve been to quite a few actually,” Adan admitted, “though I was only invited to one of them.” He looked at the serving lady and asked, “Do you know if you have any pancakes in this joint?” By this point her smile was pitiful, and she did her best to shrug while holding the tray.

Russell apologized to the serving lady with a smile and began to physically guide us down the hallway. Adan dropped two empty glasses of the woman’s tray and took the last two full ones before Russell’s gorilla arms moved us all out of range.

Running lights sat in a central groove along the floor and ceiling of the curving corridor, but the soft yellow light was washed out by the bright sun pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling transparent aluminum windows along the outer wall. The remaining steel walls were freshly painted a nice grey-blue, but a layer of pretty paint couldn’t cover up the rough welds and exposed rivets that held this old tub together. The Terran colonizing crews back in the day were all about efficient function, not fit-and-finish.

When we reached the sleeping cabins. Russell stopped in front of room seven and said, “The dining car opens at six. I’m taking a nap until then.” He looked at the flat black screen and the door slid open. “We each have our own room.” He looked briefly back at Max and said, “Use it or don’t, it doesn’t matter to me.”

It was one of those moments that should have led to an uncomfortable silence, but my brother doesn’t get embarrassed and is rarely at a loss for words.

“I thought the buffet was open now,” Adan said. He looked at me and said, “Tell me the truth. Were the pancakes a lie?”

I nodded solemnly, fighting hard to keep the smile off my face.

“Oh, poor baby,” Max said soothingly. “We’ll have to find some way to pass the time.”

She keyed door five open and began to drag Adan in. He resisted just long enough to say, “Your punishment is that you’re on Poochy duty bro,” before disappearing behind the threshold. I heard Maxine squeal like a schoolgirl before the door slid shut.

I sighed and walked over to door eight. I didn’t trust the soundproofing enough to take cabin six. I keyed the door and then looked back at Poochy. He was sitting in front of door five, wining softly.

“Come on buddy,” I said. “Let’s check out the minibar.”