The Earth Chronicles

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

By the time Carl had passed through the Shadow testing and then Customs, it was late evening. He stepped out of the spaceport and into the heat, humidity, noise, and bright lights of London. Flux had long ago fallen asleep in his bag. When Carl checked on him, the animal’s closed eyes and half-open mouth with its double row of needle-sharp teeth showed through the transparent wings he’d wrapped over his face.

Carl yawned. He had an appointment the next day with Polestar’s investigators. He needed to find somewhere to stay the night.

Even at that hour, the multi-lane road that skirted the spaceport was busy with traffic, both at street level and just above as cars passed slower-moving vehicles by flying briefly over them. Carl wondered how long it would be before constant hover-driving was legal, and the traffic would split into road- and just-above-road level, and after that, maybe a third level? He didn’t spend enough time on Earth to bother with buying a hovercar of his own, and driving had becomes all computer-automated, which took the fun out of it. He would have liked to drive/fly, dodging up and down and around the other cars.

He felt a tug on his sleeve. A dero had appeared beside him, unnoticed while Carl was watching the traffic. The man was barefoot, and from his overgrown toenails to his matted hair, he was grimy. A nauseating smell infiltrated Carl’s nostrils.

“Just off a prospector, ain’t ya?” the dero said. “You must be rolling in creds. I used to work the prospectors, too, till I caught thermatic plague. They cured me, but I’ll never work again. Not like you. You look like a healthy bloke. Got years in you. Spare us some cred, eh?” The man was cradling a reader. The machine was old and cracked, but the display still glowed.

Carl didn’t believe the man’s story. No one survived thermatic plague. The dero probably lived from one run to the next. Carl didn’t like the idea of supplying the man’s habit, but for some, that was as much as their lives would ever hold.

“All right, give it to me,” he said, taking the ancient reader from the man. He pressed the credchip embedded in his wrist to the scanner before typing in a nominal amount. When it registered the deduction from his account, he returned the reader.

The dero squinted at the display. “That’s all you’re giving me?” he said.

“Hey, if you don’t want it...” Carl held out his hand to take the reader back, but the man clutched it to his chest and shuffled off without looking back.

“Thanks,” Carl called out after him. He was beginning to remember why he spent so much of his time in deep space. The realization arrived quicker each time he touched down.

He yawned again. He needed to find a bed before he fell asleep on his feet. After checking on Flux a second time, he zipped up his bag and headed toward the autocab station. He wished he had someone to carry him around in a bag while he slept.

At the station, no autocabs were available and, according to the screen, none were due to return for another half an hour. Krat. He sat on the bench and pulled out his personal interface. He’d handed over his ship’s one to the investigators of the incidents on K. 67092d. He hoped they would let him leave in enough time to catch the shuttle to Sydney the next day. He didn’t want to wake his folks up with his surprise arrival in the early hours of the morning.

He tried to contact another autocab service, but they were all busy. He would just have to wait for a spaceport autocab to return. He started to look up local hotels on his interface to book a room. He found a place that didn’t look like too much of dive but wasn’t too pricey either. He was about to pay for it when the bright lights of an autocab caught his attention. One had returned earlier than the system had predicted. It drew up in front of him.

As he got up, the door opened. Harrington was inside. She leaned over the seat and smiled at him.

“Can I give you a lift?”

Carl laughed, put his bag on the back seat carefully to avoid disturbing Flux, and got in.

“I thought I’d return your favor,” Harrington said as the door closed and the vehicle moved away. “Though I’m not exactly saving your life.”

She’d been referring to the time he’d picked her up in a shuttle when she was under attack in Dawn. He said, “Thanks, but you would’ve got yourself out of that scrape if I hadn’t happened along.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I appreciate it anyway. How’d you know I was waiting?”

“I was hanging about, just in case. I saw all the autocabs got taken fast. Thought you might need a ride.”

“Thanks a lot. I’m going here.” He showed her the hotel he’d picked.

“Hmmm...well...” Harrington gave him a sidelong look. “My place isn’t far. How about you save some creds and stay with me tonight?”

“That’d be great.” The evening was getting better and better.

After Carl’s agreement, a slight awkwardness invaded the atmosphere in the autocab. Carl wasn’t sure what Harrington’s intentions were. Maybe she was only offering him a place to sleep, or maybe she had more in mind. He was confused about how she felt toward him, and his feelings about her weren’t yet clear to him.

When he’d first known her, she’d been a crush of his, but the woman had been so wrapped up in doing her job, she’d barely seemed to register that he existed. Dealing with the Shadow officers aboard the Galathea had brought them closer together, and he’d felt like he was getting to know the inner Harrington a bit better.

But then she’d grown close to a lieutenant stationed on Dawn. He’d backed off, assuming that he’d imagined her increasing feelings toward him. After she’d killed the Shadow of the lieutenant, however, it had been him she’d turned to in her confusion and grief.

The truth was, he had no idea where he stood with her.

The autocab was turning off the street, and a wide garage door lifted up, revealing the entrance to an underground carpark. Carl leaned back as the vehicle’s nose dipped and it went down into the dark space. The cab halted abruptly next to an elevator and the doors popped open.

“This is it,” Harrington said. “Don’t forget your stuff.”

“You do live close to the spaceport.”

The woman shrugged as they went into the elevator. “It’s convenient. I usually signup again pretty quick after finishing a mission.”

The conversation lapsed and the awkwardness continued as they went up thirty floors.

After getting off the elevator, Harrington pressed her wrist to the door scanner, and the door opened. “It’s small, but I don’t need much,” she said as they went in.

She wasn’t joking that it was small, Carl thought. He put down his bag. He’d heard that space was at a premium in London, but Harrington’s apartment was so small it would have fitted into his parents’ living room. The place reminded him of a starship cabin. The bed, kitchen, and living area were combined, and a single door led to the shower room. The place was clean and tidy, and it didn’t look poor, but it had an institutional feel to it. Someone had told him once that Harrington had grown up in a government orphanage, and the gossip rang true now that he saw how she lived.

“Are you hungry?” asked Harrington. “We can order something.”

“No, I’m not. How about you?”

“No.” She sat on the bed.

“So...I’m pretty bushed,” Carl said. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Oh, okay.”

Did she sound disappointed?

“I’m going to freshen up,” Harrington said. She went into the shower room.

Carl got Flux out of his bag. The creature remained sound asleep. He put him on the end of the couch and covered him with a throw. While waiting for Harringon to finish, he looked out of her window and across the cityscape. Rivers of light marked the roads and freeways. No stars were visible due to their glow.

At the nearby spaceport, a shuttle was arriving from a starship, and Carl squinted in its glare as it landed. When the engines had been shut off, he recognized it was the latest model. He’d never flown one, but that no longer mattered. His eyes were on higher stakes. He was looking forward to his first starship commission.

Behind him, the door to the shower room opened, and Harrington appeared. She’d changed into loose pajamas and her hair was damp and messy from towel drying. Her sleepwear was typical Harrington—more functional than feminine—yet his long-time attraction to her remained the same.

“Your turn,” she said.

He went into the shower room and mulled over what he should do as he got ready for bed. He was confused. Should he make a move? Was that why she’d brought him home? Or was she only doing a shipmate a favor? Harrington wasn’t the flirtatious type. He found her hard to read.

If he tried something and the timing wasn’t right, he might kill any chance he had of getting closer to her. He recalled again how shaken up she’d been by killing the Shadow of the soldier she’d got close to on Dawn. That decided it. He would wait for a crystal-clear signal before he would try to take things any further. She had to still be pretty upset by that incident.

Carl returned to the living room. Harrington was already in bed. They said goodnight, and after she’d turned out the light and dimmed the window to near darkness, he lay awake for a while, watching the faint trails of light from incoming and outgoing space shuttles shining through the glass. Memories of their encounters with Shadows played in his mind, as well as thoughts about the possible repercussions of the upcoming investigation. Concerns about Haggardy’s possible methods for getting revenge also nagged at him.

From the sound of her breathing, he could tell Harrington was still awake.

“Have you thought about what you’re going to tell them at the investigation tomorrow?” he asked.

“No. What’s to think about? I’ll tell them what happened of course.”

“Yeah, but...I’ve been thinking about what Haggardy said. Do you think he can really do something serious if we don’t go along with his story?”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?” Harrington asked.

“It matters to me. Flying’s my life. I dunno what I’d do if he got my license revoked.”

Harrington’s soft sigh breathed out into the night. “We don’t have a choice. We have to tell the truth, no matter what. Haggardy’s a real misborn. We can’t let him get away with it. It wouldn’t be right. If he’d done something when I warned him about Loba, maybe none of those officers would have died.”

“I’m not disagreeing, but what’s done’s done. And that was his last mission. He’s retiring now. He’s not a danger to anyone anymore.”

“Krat, Lingiari,” Harrington replied, her voice rising, “I can’t believe you’re even saying that. You were with me there on the Galathea, right? You did know all those officers too?”

“All right, calm down. I was just thinking out loud. Geez.”

Harrington mumbled something inaudible, and her sheets rustled. She didn’t speak again. After a while, her breathing became deep and regular as she fell asleep.