Lucky is a Lady – Chapter Two

A gentle buzzing woke Lucky up from a deep sleep. It was the acceleration couch that had been her bed for four days now. Thinking about that fact, the length of time she had been on board this ship, made her feel scuzzy. There were no shower facilities, naturally. Vregonians apparently didn’t have the need for such things. There was a basic head, though it was different in configuration that she was used to. It served it’s purpose and fortunately that had only been necessary one time during the trip. The first three days under the influence of the drug cocktail, her system had been so depressed that all of her bodily functions were depressed. That explained why in spite of the three days of “sleep” she still felt tired.

She ran one hand through her short dark hair and looked over at Martyn. “What’s going on?”

He looked up from his control surfaces. “Oh, we’re approaching Bifrost.” He punched some virtual buttons.

The holographic technology that this particular ship used was nice, but Lucky would always prefer the tactile feedback of a mechanical device. Most human vessels still used actual buttons and dials for some functions for that very reason. They were cosmetic, but served a deeper function. A flickr in the corner of her eyes caught her attention. An image of Bifrost snapped into being on the smooth expanse of wall that she thought of as the forward part of the ship.

The space station orbited around a gas giant that was referred to by the natives and informally on star charts as Asgard. It was all part of some ancient mythology she knew little about. Against the backdrop of color bands and seen in relation to the planet, the orbital looked insignificant. The display zoomed in sufficiently to show off the seven rings stacked one on top of the other spaced at regular intervals and held together by a central column that ran through the center of them. Arms, lost by the hologram’s insufficient resolution, radiated out from that spire and into the inner circumference of the rings. Truthfully the whole thing was massive.

In spite of that it was sparsely populated. Only about five thousand human beings and a few representatives of the Vregonian race called Bifrost home. Most of the space was taken up by factory levels and other operations to keep the space station viable and mostly self sufficient in terms of food and atmosphere. Only two rings possessed residences, one of those two also being set aside for docking and cargo operations.

She seen this particular view more times that she’d care to think about, but it amazed her every time. That her species would have made it out this far from their point of origin and set up this amalgam of metal, ceramic, plastic, and other unknown bits to make a place to live and work, seemed impossible. Yet , here it was.

The view jittered and then zoomed in. Lines flowed and boxes filled with the Vergonian’s written language, as objects were scanned and identified. She could see a couple of ship classes that she recognized, the ones that were big enough to be picked up at this level of magnification. No doubt there were dozens of personal and pleasure vehicles as well. Anything as small as the ship they were in would be docked inside.

Lucky stopped. She really didn’t know how big this ship was. It was capable of traveling at supra-light speeds, on the order of ships that were typically much larger. Ships that large also ordinarily carried more than four crew. Still it was small enough and simple enough to be run by one person and had provided everything they needed for the duration of the trip. There was more to this vessel than Martyn was letting on. She would need to talk to Martyn about that at a later time. She watched as he tapped more commands in.
A voice seemingly came from the view screen. “This is Dockmaster Kent. Please transmit your manifest.”

The gruff voice of Taylor Kent filled Lucky with a sudden warmth. There had been a brief period of time where she hadn’t been sure if she would ever see this place again. It wasn’t the first time she had felt that way, but it had been the most acute in at least a year or two. Until that moment she hadn’t realized just how acute. She fingered a tear out of her eye.

“Of course Dockmaster.” Martyn set up the transmission.

The station would have received most of the data they needed through automated systems. The ship would have been scrutinized by every sensor the orbital had and if there had been anything out of kilter weapons would have locked on. Kent was big on formalities though. He asked for things that the computer already knew and Lucky suspected it was because the man was feeling out the, usually human, traveller just in case something wasn’t jake about the whole thing. In at least one instance that Lucky knew of it had saved the station from direct harm.

Several things emitted beeps and lights flashed. Kent’s voice came back. “Welcome ‘Portia’s Tears’ to Bifrost. Stay out of trouble. You’ll be docking in bay two, slot C. Follow the coordinates as I’ve give them to you. Do. Not. Deviate.”

Lucky chuckled. It hadn’t been the first time she’d heard those words and she knew what deviation, at least significant deviation, would mean. The high powered tractor beam would snag you and your vehicle would be impounded or shot down depending on your reaction. This far out you took your job seriously. At least Kent did and no one blamed him, except the occasional greenhorn. She knew that the identities of all passengers would be included on the manifest.

Without waiting for an answer, Kent’s voice rang out again. “Put Lucky on the horn.”

Martyn gestured for her to speak. “Hello Dockmaster.” Her tone was suddenly that of a junior speaking to a superior officer.

“Lucky, what in the universe are you doing on this… thing?” There was an undercurrent of concern in his voice, one that most people wouldn’t be able to pick out.

“Well Dockmaster Kent, it seems that there was a problem with the last shipment I was guarding. Can we talk about it at Mae’s?” She really wanted to talk to the man alone. Sh had built a relationship with him over the years and she wanted to bend his ear.

“You’re buying.” His tone of voice changed. “You’re doing good ‘Tears’. Bring that ship in and park it. I’ve transmitted the standard ship’s order. Once again, follow them to the letter. Bifrost out.”

Lucky resisted reiterating the orders to Martyn. While he didn’t know Kent like she did, the Vregonian wasn’t an idiot by any standards. She watched as the hip came in to the dock and eventually saw some of the station and docked ships through the porthole. They eventually passed through a force shield that both kept the vacuum at bay and killed most known contaminants that might be found on the exterior of a ship. While not much could survive the vacuum of space, thorough decontamination was protocol. An active scan also looked for ship sized armaments and anything else that looked out of place. They weren’t stopped short, proving to her that any present ill gotten gains were small.

The display now gave them what a fisheye view would look like if one could see out of the bow. The ship, that she now knew had a most beautiful name, came to rest on the dark green landing pad in the midst of a few neighbors. In the neat distance she made out Mike Plested’s personal yacht. He was for all intents and purposes the head of Bifrost. It was like a company town, almost anything permanent really belonging to Decagon Mining and rented or leased by residents. The sleek silvery vessel was one of those that she felt certain would come closest to matching the ‘Tears’ capabilities, but the human craft was twice as big and came close to being half as fast. The view came to a rest at what she would guess was three meters off the deck. All view screens vanished and the steady background hum died. She and Martyn both stood, nearly in unison.

“Now Lucky, I don’t think I need to remind you.” He brought his wrist up and gestured to the black bangle there. It nearly blended in with his glistening skin. “You will stick to the plan. I won’t hesitate to do what I need to do.”

She couldn’t help but be slightly annoyed at the reminder. She was hardly a child and there wasn’t an impulsive bone in her body. He won’t trust you just because you want him to. The reminder to herself was ten times more necessary. She wasn’t dealing with a client, but with a kidnapper. What he was doing really wasn’t legal on any human home world, but it wasn’t really illegal either. In any case if she went off like a loose canon, she would be dead and the lawyers would be left ot hash it out.

She simply nodded agreement. “I’ll stick to the plan. Deboarding usually takes five minutes or so. From here we’ll get a place to stay. I have a suite at Mae’s Chop House, a local… restaurant and hotel.” There was so much more than that to the place. She wasn’t sure that he would appreciate those differences though. All she knew was that she would rather live at Mae’s place than anywhere else she’d been in space. “You can stay with me if you like, but I think they might have quarters you’ll find more suitable. You’re not the only Vregonian guest she has had. If they’re not already occupied.”

Martyn waved a hand. “It does not matter to me. I will be happy either way. As soon as we are done with securing a place I need to go see the local consul.”

“But you’re a wanted…” She caught herself. “Being. Is it safe for you to check in?”

“Yes. The consul is like a neutral territory. I think in most human settlements you consulates are more like miniature replicas of the government they represent. That’s not so with us. Criminals, expatriates, visitors, are all welcome. No doubt the consul will check on my status and might even report me back to my home world, but they can not come and get me, even if there was reason for them to. More important, he can not arrest me or report me to your authorities.” He looked at the bangle and it lit up in a few places. “Besides, as you have said I am not going to see many of my people here. I will stick out as you would in my home.”

The lack of real sleep and stress had her rattled. Otherwise she would have thought of that, or so she told herself. “That’s true.” She patted her own beige jumpsuit and found the only thing they had let her keep. It was really the only thing that was hers that couldn’t be easily replaced. The small metal bar looked a lot like a harmonica, but the guts weren’t reeds. Microcircuitry made the little instrument much more useful than its ancient cousin. If they hadn’t arranged this deal she may have even been able to use it in what would have no doubt been an ill fated escape attempt. She pulled it out and blew through it, producing a very traditional sound. Checking for it and making sure it still worked after a flight was as habitual to her as combing her hair in the morning. Satisfied, she put it away in a slit pocket on her right thigh.

She looked around the space. There was only one door. They hadn’t been given the all clear to get off, but she really wanted to breath air that didn’t smell faintly of old aquarium water and her own body odor. The environmental system on this thing didn’t seem tuned to human olfactory senses. She remembered reading something about the Vregonians having an inferior sense of smell. “While you’re checking in with the consul I’m going to go looking for one of my contacts, Dave Minkus. He got me the first job and maybe he can tell us who gave it to him. Probably not, since I imagine whoever’s behind this paid him off on top of telling him a pack full of lies. Even if that’s a dead end, he’s our first shot at getting a job with the same bunch.”

Dave, known to her when she was in a good mood as Aces, was actually there only real chance at getting that second job. Most other recruiters were strictly on the level. Aces usually played things straight too, but he wasn’t above finding some riskier cargo. Ninety percent of the time he even knew and communicated that risk accurately. After all, a dead client was almost as bad as an unsatisfied client in his book. Not quite as bad since dead clients didn’t tell bad stores on you down the road. “Once I’m done with him we’ll get a decent meal in us and compare notes.” The thought of Scott’s cooking made her mouth water. Mae’s common law husband, Scott Breakall, was the best cook in this sector of space.

A chime sounded from the bracelet. “Crew of the ‘Portia’s Tears’, you are cleared to debark.” The voice, only vaguely artificial and likely an AI, gave them their perfunctory permission.

Lucky looked at Martyn significantly. Either he took her hint or simply went his own way. He walked towards a wall behind where they had been laying. It irised open and they both continued down a short featureless hall. After a few meters they came to another dead end. Martyn was only two steps away from walking into the bulkhead when it too opened into a small room. She followed him in and the door closed behind them. There was a light hum for a second and when the door opened again it was on to the tarmac of the docking bay. The room had been an elevator of sorts.

Lucky inhaled the orbital station’s air. It smelled flat, a little metallic, and held a hint of the gas that most human faster than light ship used to achieve their speed. This wasn’t how the air on the residential level, but it was definitely home.

Martyn gestured for Lucky to lead the way. They walked the hundred or so meters to the moving walkway that would take them to the central lift. Mae’s and anywhere else they were interested in going were all one level up. She considered stopping by Kent’s office before heading up, but he was a busy man and she wanted a shower and a clean set of real clothes before attending to any business.

She looked around the hanger deck as they walked. There was plenty of activity, though no more so than on any other day. She wasn’t sure what the local station time was so she pulled out the electronic mouth harp again and touched a few hidden sensors. The surface came to life. The display was small but crisp. After a second it brought up time, temperature, and a few other pertinent details. According to this it was just past eighteen hundred hours.

Another few seconds passed and it chirped at her. There were over five hundred messages waiting for her. Most of them would be junk and would be discarded, but she felt sure there would be a few nuggets of gold tucked in among them. Now wasn’t the time to check though. She put it back to sleep and tucked it away in a slit pocket on her hip.

“Quite the little device.” Martyn remarked behind her. “We probably should have confiscated that.”

Lucky nodded and shrugged. “Probably.” She didn’t feel the need to hide its less obvious capabilities. “But don’t feel too bad. It was designed by a friend to look as innocuous as possible. He’s good, very good, at what he does.” She almost purred. Now that she was on her home turf her whole attitude shifted slightly. Her walk had a little strut to it and her head was held high.

There were a few familiar faces around, but no one she considered a friend or acquaintance. Some of the people in the hangar and on the lift area looked at her and stared at her companion. Vregonians weren’t completely unknown on the station, but a new one was news worthy. She gave it fifteen minutes before it was all over the station net.

The lift doors opened on the main residential level and another moving sidewalk stretched out to the ring. Here the ceiling portrayed an image of what the space outside would look like. A scattering of stars and the gas giant the orbited made a huge moving mural. Every fifteen meters a display at average head level played through station news and other points of interest.

The air on this level was spicier, the mix of body odors and smells from restaurants, even though they were still hundreds of meters away, mingling. The atmospheric plant kept the oxygen levels right and scrubbed anything nasty from the air, but the feeling was that if you were going to live your life off planet it would be unpleasant for there to be no characteristic smells. Every station she’d been on had a distinctly different ‘flavor’.

Gravity on Bifrost was kept at point eight gees. That was standard across the board for orbitals. It made going back to Earth easier, though truthfully there were few people that would ever actually visit humanity’s point of origin. Travel like that wasn’t cheap. Vregonia III was a slightly higher gee than Earth standard so she imagined that Martyn would enjoy the difference. His race was used to a slightly higher oxygen level so in some ways that balanced out. Lucky definitely noticed the difference herself, her step bouncier not just thanks to being free. Or free-er at least.

The rotating belt deposited them on the ring. Since Bifrost didn’t orbit a habitable planet, everything was set up to be as near planet like as possible. There were images projected on the distant roof of darkening sky, appropriate to the time of day. Grass and trees were planted in tremendous boxes of soil, flush with the decking. There was no street as there were no vehicles, but moving and stationary walkway divided the inner and outer circumferences. Buildings that looked for all the world like stick built structures rather than the pre-fabbed clones that they actually were lined the boulevard.

There were no side streets, though alleys did separate buildings and there were back alleyways for service bots and trams to traverse, along with what usually went on in such places. Lucky had been planetside in a few systems and what the engineers pulled off here was amazing. The viability of long term orbital stations were a testimony to that. If you had never lived on a planet you likely wouldn’t know the difference.

She looked back at her shadow. He was looking around, though whether in amazement or simply in a coolly calculating way, she couldn’t tell. “So, ever been to a human station?”

He nodded once. “Yes. I spent a few months on Diamante in the Centauri system. It wasn’t quite this… pleasant though.”

She filed away his tone of voice. If his nose had been capable she thought it would have wrinkled and she couldn’t blame him. Diamante was a sucking black hole of nastiness. Why in the galaxy he had ever gone there, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. If there were a worse hive of scum, she wasn’t aware of it. “I can imagine. You’ll find your time here nice enough. Hopefully it will be brief, but if everything goes well here then you have an open invitation to come back.”

“Thank you Lucky.” His eyes swiveled to meet hers. “I hope that is the way it goes.”

“Right then.” She looked around for anyone she might now. Traffic was light since it was the dinner hour. This section of the ring was mostly made up of businesses. Mae’s Chop House was just a few blocks clockwise. “This way.” She opted for the stationary walkway, eager to stretch her long legs. Martyn had little difficulty keeping up, his much shorter limbs having to move faster.

The curve in the street was subtle so it felt like a straight shot. The sign for Mae’s was easily made out. It flashed its message in a variety of human languages all in bold red letters at least two meters tall. Structures on the station were limited to three stories, so the restaurant/hotel was much wider than it would have been planet side. Lucky knew that there were a hundred fifty rooms, about half of those true residential suites like hers. Some of those rooms were dedicated to the ‘hospitality’ that she offered her adult clientele.

Prostitution was legal on Bifrost and in some ways encouraged. The men and women that worked the gas mines and refinery were as rough and tumble as miners had been for thousands of years. It was also widely recognized that letting them have a number of escape valves was better then trying to tell grown people in the fringes of the universe how to live their lives. She had been a few places where the practice was still illegal and while she herself had never felt the need to pay for companionship, she saw what trying to control that urge with laws often lead to.

They walked through the two and a half meter high doorway and right into the restaurant and bar that served as Mae’s hub. The doors at Mae’s literally never closed because there were none. Not everyone was on a diurnal schedule here and every time Lucky came by there was always a crowd. As a result the designer, Mae herself, decided to go non-traditional that way.

There were scanners mounted in the doorway that looked for weapons and the security system could even tell if you’d paid your bill or not and if you had any of Mae’s wares on your person so doors and locks would have been redundant anyway. Lucky knew as she’d had a hand in designing it.

The large dining area was a circular recession and held a wide variety of table configurations. Most of them were large rectangles suitable for huge parties. There were more intimates settings as well and even a few booths that were curtained off for more private dining. It appeared that the place was about eighty percent full. The dance of wait staff from table to kitchen to bar and the movement of customers was coordinated chaos.

The bar itself was a massive affair that appeared to be made from real oak and brass. Even Lucky wasn’t sure about that. If it was then the cost would be outerageous. Behind the bar was a wall of mirrors and central to the whole affair was a painting of a beautiful woman with milk pale skin and bright pink locks in repose on a sedan chair. Whisps of white silk made her both demure and sexy, hinting at what lie underneath. That was the mistress of the house.

Lucky nodded at the maitre’d on duty and while she didn’t recognize him, he did recall her. The sharply dressed man nodded and stepped past other waiting customers to her side. “Good evening ma’am. Your usual table or would you like something sent to your room?”

The tang of beer and liquor and the smells of fine food whetted Lucky’s appetite. “I think I’m gonna head up to my room thanks, just send up whatever’s today’s special.” She waved a hand at Martyn. “And if you have an appropriate room available for my companion here I would appreciate it. Put it on my tab.”

He spared a cool glance for Martyn and nodded crisply. “Of course ma’am. I shall let the Mistress know you’re here.” He looked up and a little to the right for a half second. “There is a room for the gentleman as well. He can check in to number two-twelve within the hour. It shall be ready for him.”

That satisfied Lucky. It was on the same level as her suite but in the opposite wing. “That’s great, thanks.”

Rather than head down in to the pit, she turned and walked parallel to the restaurant and though a pair of large bat wing doors. Carpet the color of a fine red wine cushioned her steps. She longed to pull off her pointed boots and run her toes through the nap. That would come later, once in her room. The hall stretched out for a good distance numbered doors alternating every five meters. She took the firsts door on her right.. It was unnumbered and a proper steel door as were the rest, though they were covered in a plastic veneer that passed easily for wood. Fire on a space station wasn’t a good thing.

The spiral staircase that lay beyond wound upwards and she also knew that there was a section that went down, concealed behind a clever floor plate. She stepped quickly up the stairs not looking to see if Martyn followed. She could hear the soft footfalls behind her, though only barely and only because she was listening for them.

Once on the proper level, she went through and hung a left. They were above the restaurant now and behind the sign out front. One way glass let people see both outside and down into the eating area. She’d spent hours here watching people pass on the street and others entertaining themselves at the bar. Finally the couple arrived at her door. It was suite two hundred forty-seven.

She set her palm against the door and it read the lines there. “Helenica Goldentsetin.” The name that was rarely heard aloud and almost never from her lips was the second half of the key. The door clicked and slid open, recessing into the wall.

The red carpet continued into the room, a spacious seating area with a sofa and two recliners. Cream colored wall held a few prints; a still life and two fields of flowers. There was also a small dining area to the left, suitable for four people, and a corner bar with four ornate bottles and a small array of crystal glasses. The door opposite the main entry led to her bedroom. She turned to Martyn. “Come in and make yourself comfortable.” She moved out of the way, sweeping her arm out.

He bowed smartly. “I thank you my fine hostess.” And with that came in and began looking around.

Lucky closed the door and made sure that it locked. “You have a seat. Food should be up in a few minutes.” A thought occurred to her. “Oops, I forgot to get you something. If you’re hungry, tell the man that brings the food to bring something up for you. I’m sure they can rustle up something.”

Martyn sat gently on one of the recliners. “I do not require anything right now Lucky, thank you.”

“Suit yourself.” He tone was chipper. “I’ll be out in fifteen minutes.” She went to her bedroom door and was already unzipping her suit as she moved. It wasn’t enough time for a proper bath, but it would have to do.