2015 Young Explorer's Adventure Guide Page 30

  Bill’s voice over the speakers was commanding. “Dodge. Bring the flotsam up to the bridge. Now.” His voice silenced the laughter, subduing the general unloading and stowage of the new cargo. I gently pried the pillow case out of Ollie’s hands and passed it to Mattie. “She’ll dump the goods and leave the pillow for you in our cabin. We gotta go.”

  We climbed the catwalk up toward the door of the bridge where we paused. I looked back at Ollie’s pale face then patted her shoulder. “It’ll be okay.” She nodded back, and we went in.

  The cockpit of our ship is pretty small, and Bill filled it like a white dwarf just before it goes supernova on you. The view screens showed the abandoned ship drifting back in our wake on one screen, with nothing but stars on the other. Bill punched a couple more buttons, and I felt the thrum of the main drive kick in. Then he turned to look at the two of us, silent.

  Ollie shrunk a little behind me at first, then straightened her shoulders and even stuck out her chin a little. Bill’s voice was mild when he spoke, catching me by surprise. “All in then, Dodge?”

  “Yessir. Ship shape and stowed proper.”

  He nodded once, beetled gaze flickering over to Ollie. “So you know some tricks, do you? Not entirely worthless, although you could have cost us some good components with your idiocy. Follow orders. Do what you’re told. That’s how you survive, always doing what you’re told by them what know better. Got it?”

  Ollie nodded meekly.

  Bill seemed satisfied, and leaned back in his chair with his arms folding behind his neck. “What was that you were telling Dodge earlier? You know the same tricks about the new liner models? They all got a simple way in like that?” Ah, of course he was listening to the intercom. It’s his ship.

  The girl hesitated. “I…don’t know about the New Dubrovnik line. But New Svenska does. Not on the main gangway, of course. Just on the back near the supply bay doors, where catering and laundry service goes. I’ve been in and out of them a lot on refill runs.” She mimed the placement with her hands, small and deft. Bill’s eyes never left them.

  “Good enough,” he pronounced. “Go on, get some rest.” She turned to flee out the door.

  I would have followed, but Bill’s meaty paw landed on my shoulder. “Talk to Mouse and Paris,” he said quietly. “See if they think they can get through the inside locks on a galaxy-class.”

  I scratched my head. “I don’t follow?”

  “I been thinking since I first heard her say it,” Bill said. “You know, we do okay at salvage. But if we had a way into a galaxy-class liner, quiet-like, we could take our pick of passenger goods without them ever being the wiser.”

  I couldn’t contain my look of shock. “Rob a live ship, Bill? Are you crazy?”

  Bill grabbed my face with his hand, palm over my mouth while he hit a button to shut the door out. His voice rumbled more quietly, “No I ain’t. I aim to retire. One really good job with a decent haul and I could settle down somewhere quiet-like. Find a station and live decent, with all the protein I want. Maybe even fresh food now and again, and more than one change of clothes.”

  I felt dazed. “I thought you liked the way we live here. We’re a family, you said.”

  Bill shrugged and let go. “You and I both know it’s been a long while since we’ve gotten anything from the Fed for supplies. We’ve been supporting ourselves for years. And I won’t leave right away. But I’m thinking you’re qualified to run the whole op soon enough, if I teach you some things. You’ll be citizen age next year. You want this ship?” I did, with every fiber of my acquisitive heart. Words were cheap, so I just nodded. He seemed satisfied. “Okay. Chat up Tiny and Paris. We got some planning to do.”

  The next few sleep-cycles were filled with schematics and planning. Bill arranged some sort of information swap for the data we pulled off the derelict ship, and got us a full set of liner details with maps on the inside.

  “This would do it, Cap,” Paris traced a line. “This goes into every expensive cabin, all in a row. We do these two lines, stern and aft, and then pop out quick again. It’s a great steal. But how we gonna get in and out of all those doors? Won’t they see us?”

  Bill looked smug. “You leave that to me. I’ve got it figured out. We’ll make one stop first.”

  The next day, he took us in to a refill station along the rim of an ice ring frequented by the cruise liners. Most of us stayed on board while Bill, Bongo and Mattie hauled our salvaged cargo out to sale. They came back with the usual provisions and some wrapped bundles that turned out to be cruise liner uniforms. Mattie flat out told us where to go when we asked her to fix them, so it was us boys that sat around cross-legged, needles and thread working to alter them to fit our bodies. Ollie helped. She’d done laundry before, as she reminded me.

  The one item that didn’t get altered much was a bit of frippery, a dirt-licker girlie dress for Ollie. “Here’s the plan, see,” Bill laid it out for all of us as Ollie tried on the frock. “We float up to the ship and let ourselves in when she stops for water at the rings. Ollie gets us through the servant’s door with her safety latch trick. I’ll go first in case there’s trouble. You follow, we change into uniforms, and march on in proud as you please.”

  He patted Ollie’s head, and she looked startled. “Ollie here will be a misplaced passenger. I’m just doing my duty to find her family so she can be delivered to the right cabin. Can you cry on command, girl?”

  Ollie blinked. “I’m not sure.”

  Bill’s hand tightened a little on the girl’s head. “Oh, we’ll find some tears for you if need be. So there it is. Paris will get us through locked doors, and Olivia will get us through the rest. If we do it at one of the mealtimes, the cabins should be fairly clear on board. Steal them blind, and get off ship fast with a better haul than the usual scrap. Jewelry, mini-comps, furs – just think of the luxury goods! I know just the guy to fence them, too.”

  I didn’t have any doubt Bill could deal with trouble or security. I’ve seen him in a fight.

  “I’ve never stolen anything,” Ollie whispered at last, looking less than happy.

  “And you won’t this time,” Bill said mildly enough. “You just get us on that ship and look adorable and lost, and we’ll be out of there before the meal shift is over. Then back home, we cut loose, and let the liner just drift away from us. We float dark, we won’t even blip on their scans until we hit quarter-orbit away.”

  It was two weeks later I actually saw a galaxy-class liner right in front of me on the screens. It looked like a whole floating white planet of luxury and pleasure, and I burned a little with envy. Then, just because I felt bad about it, I patted the console of our ship. “It’s okay, baby. I still love you better.” She’d be mine one day soon; my heart was given already.

  The liner was perched above the ice rings, clearly harvesting while the tourists snapped photographs of the striped planet below. Our ship drifted into place with only little pneumatic releases. We all listened in on the liner’s broadcast announcements until we knew their sleep cycles and dining arrangements.

  Ollie led the way, her slender hand slipping in to undo the latch that released the small hatch. Inside the liner when we had air again, we de-suited and tossed on the uniforms of the staff to head deeper into the liner. Bill led the way, and Paris opened each electronic lock with his usual wizardry. Ollie drifted with us, looking more like she belonged in this place than any of us with her perfect frame and proportions.

  Five staterooms we hit fast as you please, and Bill’s bag was bulging nicely when we hit the one on the end. Paris got the door open, and Bill and I had just walked in. I called out my usual, “Room service!” announcement, which so far had gone unanswered.

  This time, a quavering voice was raised in reply. “I ordered nothing.”

  We froze as a wheeled hover chair turned in place. A white-haired man connected to many tubes sat in the chair, his monitors beeping. Tufty white brows raised over sharp eyes for all his fra
il form and voice, that blue gaze seeming to pierce our hand-stitched uniforms to see how we didn’t fit them properly. “You’re not supposed to be here. Who are you?”

  Bill stepped forward with violent intent, but Ollie unexpectedly pushed her way to the front. “Grandpa!” She rushed over to take the old man’s hand where it rested on the arm of his chair. “I was lost and I…Oh! I’m sorry. You’re not my grandpa.” She batted her lashes in the routine we’d worked out.

  They looked a bit alike, I had to admit. Blue eyes, both of them. White hair and blond, pale skin that doesn’t see sunlight unfiltered.

  The old man’s hand turned over and caught at her wrist before she could pull back away. “You look familiar, girl. Where have I seen you before?” He dragged Ollie closer, peering through his glasses to see her face. The other hand punched at buttons on his chair. Bill looked uneasy at that, but no alarms started that we could see, no lights beeping.

  “Dunno, sir,” Ollie whispered gamely, keeping to the charade. “I’ve never seen you.” She looked at her hand as he turned it over, presenting her wrist to his chair and holding it there for a moment before she jerked away.

  The old man let her go, pushing his spectacles up his nose slightly as Bill moved to collect her. A green light flashed on the chair and the man looked downright shocked. “You’re a match? Dear lord, you’re a relation. I have an heir.”

  That surprised all of us, even Bill. He was quickest to speak up. “Wait. You’re related to this here girl? Ollie?”

  I stared around the suite, my jaw dropping slightly as I considered for the first time the wealth involved in such a place, such a room on such a liner. This guy was calling our Ollie his heir?

  Ollie was pale, backing toward the door way. “No sir, I ain’t nobody, no how.”

  “Olivia, stop and listen to the nice man,” I urged, moving to cut off her escape. She looked furious that I used the old name for her. I grabbed her shoulders and leaned to whisper close. “Think! He clearly wants you here. You know, people don’t use words like heir without meaning to keep you in a good way.”

  She stared at me for a long moment before turning to deliberately look around the cabin. And it was worth the look, with every comfort imaginable. There were pillows and blankets on a soft-looking bed, with art on the walls and everything. Beyond a doorway, there was a room with a bathtub that looked like it would contain actual water. I could see naked longing in her face, and I thought, That’s it. She’s gone.

  Then Ollie took a deep breath, her chin lifting in a stubborn way. “It’s not Olivia. It’s Ollie.” I was stunned.

  The old man in the hover chair floated behind us. “What? Girl, if you’re a relation…I thought I was alone. Not one of my children survived. My brother’s son is heir to us both, and somehow you have his blood. If something happened between you and your father, I want you to know I don’t care. I’m your uncle, and I’m plenty rich.” His thin lips curved into a patronizing smile. “I will protect you, and you will want for nothing.”

  “Is there some kinda reward?” Bill asked, but was ignored.

  Ollie looked at the man in the chair for a long moment, her gaze older than her years. “Your machine is wrong. It’s impossible, and I will not be mocked.” We were all shocked quiet at that, three of us staring as she turned and held a hand out to me. “Come on, Dodge. I remember the way back home, now.”

  I took her hand because I had to. There was iron in her tone, and the sort of determination in her face that I saw in my own when I looked in a mirror and thought about being a captain one day. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Behind us the old man started to call something out, but then there was a thump and he went quiet. Bill passed us, stuffing something shiny into his pockets. “Come on, quick.”

  He led us out and away back down into the hold. We didn’t need to discuss it further. Our burglary was done, and dice were cast in a way I could not have predicted. I’m not sure I could have turned down a life of luxury and wealth, so I asked Ollie about it as we were fast changing back in to v-suits.

  “My mom was always her own person,” Ollie said. “They rejected us, her and me. That world pushed us away. Yeah, maybe I want stuff. But then I’d have to learn to be someone else, and I don’t know if I’d be any good at it.”

  Paris and the others were already out of the airlock on their way back to our ship. Bill smirked and shook his head. “You’re crazy, girl. But we got a place for your kind of stupid. Come on, then. Let’s go home before the alarms start.”

  Finally she smiled. “Yeah. Home.”

  One by one, the last three jumped back to our freighter, disengaged, and drifted off into the frozen rings of the planet below. The liner was left behind us, shining like the biggest block of ice you ever saw.

  Repeat After Me

  Alvaro Zinos-Amaro

  Alvaro Zinos-Amaro is co-author, with Robert Silverberg, of When the Blue Shift Comes. Alvaro’s short fiction and Rhysling-nominated poetry have appeared in Analog, Nature, Galaxy’s Edge, Apex, BuzzyMag, The Journal of Unlikely Entomology and other venues. Alvaro has also published reviews, essays and interviews in The Los Angeles Review of Books, Clarkesworld, Strange Horizons and elsewhere, and currently edits the roundtable blog for Locus magazine.

  The idea of getting Niv to experience the play seemed to spring wholly formed in Mina’s mind. She was sure her younger brother would like it. She didn’t stop to consider the obstacles – or the dangers.

  It happened on a Saturday morning after breakfast. The family lingered at the kitchen table, discussing the day’s plans. As always, these plans had been provided by the Randomizer. While Mina helped Niv into his flexsuit, their parents discussed the play they would be watching that night.

  Suit securely fastened and activated, Niv began his crawling exercises on the living room floor. Mina looked at him, wishing she could do more to help. He avoided her eyes, as he did with most people. Their parents watched a brief holo-preview of the play. As the play shimmered in the air, Mina saw a secret glow in Niv’s eyes. That was the moment Mina decided. “I want to come to the theater with you tonight,” she said.

  Mina’s father, Kouros, gave her a look. “You do?”

  Mina nodded. “Yes.”

  The servos in Niv’s suit had warmed up and were buzzing more loudly now. He finished his crawling exercises and began his arm-folding ones.

  Kouros’ eyes met those of Goli, Mina’s mother. “You’ve never expressed any interest in the theater before, sweetie,” Goli said. “Why now?”

  “I’m ten now,” Mina said with defiance. “I’m allowed to have new interests.”

  “Of course.” Goli smiled, ending the preview and rising from the table. “But I’m afraid tonight’s play is only meant for grownups. And Niv would miss you. You guys have a play date tonight.”

  Mina scrunched her face. Her mother didn’t have a clue. Mina cared about theater as much as she did Tenebian dung beetles. Less, come to think of it. But she had glimpsed Niv’s interest in the play. And since Niv was too young for theater, Mina decided to bring the play home to him. That meant Mina had to be in the audience so she could secretly record it. She was positive Niv wouldn’t mind missing out on a play date with her if he knew the payoff, but now was not the time to explain. “I want to go,” Mina insisted. “Please.”

  “Not tonight, dear,” Kouros said. He stood up and sipped coffee. Mina and Niv got up too. The kitchen bots moved in, cleared the table and did the dishes. Everyone sauntered to the living room. “But I will enter it into the Randomizer for you.”

  “It won’t be the same play some other day!” Mina complained. During tonight’s performance the bot actors would perform intense acrobatics: hopping, jumping, swinging, spinning, even somersaults. Those were exactly the things Mina was sure had sparked Niv’s curiosity. Next week’s play could be anything at all, like two bots discussing the weather over tea.

  “Of course it won’t be the same play,” Goli said. �
��That’s the whole point, Mina. Every performance is different, a one-time event. You know the Founders’ belief that variety –”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Mina grumbled, cutting off her mom. Mina raised her voice to an unpleasant pitch. “‘Variety is the spice of life’,” she mocked.

  “Hey.” Goli crouched down beside her. “It’s a very important idea, Mina, and I need you to take it seriously. It’s the reason we’re no longer on Earth.”

  Mina rolled her eyes. She knew all about it and didn’t wish to be lectured. Bots had become cheap, efficient and intelligent – so much so that they could design themselves. The bots could keep the world running. The humans split into two groups: the Doers, who wanted them turned off because they felt that work made life meaningful, and the Thinkers, who wanted to be free from labor so that they could focus on other things. The Thinkers left Earth and founded the colony of Malakbel on Tau Ceti’s closest planet. Mina’s parents were second-generation Thinkers, and that made Mina a Thinker. But some days Mina wondered whether she might not be more Doer. Speaking about that usually got her in trouble, so Mina kept those thoughts to herself.

  “I don’t mind variety,” she said, crossing her arms. “But I don’t see why things have to be different all the time.”

  Every aspect of life on Malakbel was “spiced up” with variety: for months at a time, Mina wouldn’t receive instruction by the same bot tutor twice. She couldn’t wear the same clothes, and her alarm-clock woke her up at a slightly different time every day, and so on. It had been fun for a while, mostly when she was too young to really understand how things worked. Now Mina was fed up with it. And then there was Niv. There was something wrong with him, but none of the adults was sure what. The bot doctors prescribed physical therapy as a way of strengthening his “undeveloped lower brain,” a phrase that had stuck with Mina, but which she didn’t understand. How many brains did one have, anyway?