Alien Page 12

  Five years, and she could only sometimes think of this place as home.

  I don’t even know what happened to Mom’s apartment. She’d never tried to go back to that place—which prior to her eleventh birthday had always been “home” as far as she was concerned. No doubt somebody else was living there now. Perhaps another little girl slept in her bedroom.

  Four of the ten elevators had red lights over them indicating that they were out of service. The call button had already been pushed. A woman holding a bag of groceries gave her a tired look.

  “May wanna just take the stairs.”

  “I’m on forty-one.”

  “Yeah, so? You’re young, you can do it.”

  An elevator arrived a moment later, saving Amanda from making a nasty response. She entered, holding up her keycard so the car would go to her floor, then worked her way to the back.

  By the time she reached the forty-first floor, everyone had gotten off except for the woman with the groceries. As Amanda passed her on her way out the door, the woman muttered, “Woulda been faster to take the stairs.”

  Before Amanda could reply, the doors closed behind her. Standing in the hallway, she realized she wasn’t exactly in a tearing hurry to get home. As much as she needed the hundred, she wasn’t looking forward to what it might take to get it.

  Sure enough, her delaying tactics had done what they were supposed to do. She waved her keycard near the door, and it slid open to reveal the small living room. Paul was asleep on the couch, some vid or other playing. Amanda walked around him to the kitchen wall at the back of the living room, and fixed herself a glass of iced tea.

  Locating the remote, she turned the vid off. Only then did Amanda hear the snoring. Paul’s snores were light, but the fact that he was snoring meant he was thoroughly passed out. He wouldn’t move until morning.

  That made it easier.

  His jacket was draped over the back of the couch, and it took only a moment to rummage through the pockets to find his chip. The last time she’d done this, Paul had threatened to change the code on his chip, but Amanda was fairly confident that he hadn’t done so.

  She went into her tiny bedroom, which was just large enough to fit her cot. Sitting down on it, she removed the shiny new Pad from her pocket and called up her account. Then she placed Paul’s chip in one of the ports. If nothing else, meeting up with Okeke got her this new Moran—the Seegson didn’t have a chip port, so she would have had to do the transfer manually.

  A display came up asking for the code, and Amanda entered the same six numbers she’d entered the last time she’d needed to take money from her stepfather’s account. Then it had been in order to pay the rent. Even so, he’d been pissed.

  The code was accepted.

  Reliable as always, Dad.

  She transferred one hundred and fifty over to her account. That didn’t leave her stepfather with much, and Amanda had to hope that the bills had already been paid. There was food in the house that would last at least the next week, so they wouldn’t starve.

  Grabbing her phone, she slid Okeke’s business card into the slot. Moments later, his face appeared on the screen. He looked to be in a park.

  “Manda, what’s up?” he said. “You got the money?”

  Amanda nodded. “Just need the number.”

  “Good, I’m glad.” Okeke smiled. “I really didn’t want to sell this to anyone else.”

  “Thanks, Marvin. It means a lot.” She wasn’t sure how much she meant that, though. Knowing what Okeke did for a living cast a whole new light on her impression of him. She hadn’t yet really sorted it out.

  Okeke gave her the number, Amanda transferred the funds, and then Okeke held up another Moran VDN Pad.

  “I’ll bring this to Kelloway’s, first thing in the morning.”

  “Great! I’ll swing by on my way to class.”

  * * *

  Hours later, Amanda stared through the semidarkness at the ceiling, seeing her mother’s face in her mind’s eye. It was really happening. She would find out at last what happened to her, and to Captain Dallas, and all the others. Amanda didn’t really know the crew, but after all the messages from the Nostromo, somehow it was important to her that they had survived.

  Maybe this information would help the company, too. They’d be able to locate the ship. Her mother would come home and she could finally live with her again and not have to put up with her stepfather.

  When she did sleep, she dreamt of Mom singing.

  “O little lotus flower, gone, gone too soon.”

  * * *

  The alarm went off at six. Normally, it was set for seven, but she wanted to make sure she was at the coffee shop in plenty of time. Her stepfather was still asleep in the same position on the couch, still snoring, drool dripping down from the corner of his mouth onto the cushions.

  Won’t have to put up with that forever, she reminded herself. If all went as planned, she’d finally be reunited with her mother. And regardless, in two more years she’d be legally an adult and could strike out on her own. She already had the responsibility of adulthood—since Paul sure as fuck wasn’t bothering with it—but she wanted the power of independence to go with it.

  After a quick shower she put on one of her jumpsuits—they were cheap and always had lots of pockets—and then headed out the door, the Moran VDN in her pocket. Using the extra fifty she’d taken she refilled her RailPass and took transit to Kelloway’s. Once there she ordered, not just coffee, but also some eggs and bacon—it was a good day, she figured she could splurge—and then she sat down and waited for Okeke.

  * * *

  After an hour, she started to get worried.

  She’d spent that entire hour reading over her mom’s service record. It wasn’t much, just some dry facts, but it reminded her that her mother was alive, that she’d lived a life before she disappeared. And she’d live one again.

  As soon as she came home.

  Where the fuck are you, Marvin?

  * * *

  After two hours, and another three coffees, she went to a public phone and put Okeke’s card into it. The display didn’t light up with Okeke’s face, but instead with glowing green letters against a black background.

  PHONE NO LONGER IN SERVICE

  No!

  “Amanda, that you?”

  Turning, Amanda saw a young woman whose name she couldn’t remember, but whom she’d seen in Kelloway’s before.

  “Uh, hi.” “Not used to seeing you here this early. No classes today?”

  “Um, I’m supposed to meet someone. Marvin said he’d be here first thing this morning.”

  “Marvin? Marvin Okeke? I just saw him at the rail station.”

  “So he’s on his way here?” Hope filled Amanda as she had to refrain from grabbing the woman.

  She frowned. “I doubt it, he was boarding a bullet train to California.”

  “That—that can’t be.” Amanda almost stumbled.

  “You okay? You don’t look so good.”

  “I—”

  And then she understood.

  All Okeke had shown her was a Pad with her mother’s service record. Not public info, no, but something anyone could obtain for a small fee—certainly for less than a hundred, especially if he was a deedee.

  He may have already had it for a while, and was just waiting until the right moment to tease her, hint at more data than he actually had. She never saw him with anything about the Nostromo. The Pad he’d held up last night, when she called, had been turned off.

  He played her. He took his hundred and then left town on the first train.

  Having already missed her first class, she decided to just go home. Besides, what was the point? All she felt was numbness. Her mind was a meaningless blur. When she got home, tears streaking down her cheeks, her stepfather was awake and sitting up on the couch.

  “Don’t you have school today, baby girl?”

  She wanted to scream at him not to call her that, that she was
sixteen, but at that moment she felt as stupid as a baby.

  Instead, she asked him a question.

  “If someone offered you data about the Nostromo and what happened to Mom, would you pay a hundred for it?”

  Paul just stared at her. “What?” He shook his head. “Fuck, baby girl, I haven’t even had my coffee yet. I mean, I guess I’d consider it, but I’d need to see some of it first.”

  “What if the person selling it said someone else wanted it?”

  “What difference does that make? It’s data, it can be copied over and over again, right?”

  Fuck. She really was stupid.

  “Look, I’m glad you’re home,” he said, climbing awkwardly to his feet. He really did look as if he was in pain. “You don’t need that stupid school anyhow, and I need you to come with me to the hearing.”

  “Why?”

  “Just come with me, okay? It’ll make it go more easily.”

  “I should probably get back to Delaj—”

  “I need you today,” he said, an edge creeping into his words. “My back’s acting up, and I might need your help to get up and sit down.”

  She considered arguing, but given that she’d stolen money from him and given it to a con artist, she decided it was better just to go along with whatever he wanted. Besides, he had hurt his back.

  He showered and got dressed—Amanda had to help him with his pants—and then they took the train and a bus to the offices of Diamantakis Shipping. Once there, they had to sit in a corridor for an hour before they would be seen. The bench was incredibly uncomfortable, and the vid wall was broken, so it only showed images of a beach. Amanda hated the beach.

  Her new Pad beeped with several messages from Delaj. She read them, but didn’t respond. They were asking why she wasn’t in school today, and while she could have said she was helping her stepfather, she was too mortified to do anything.

  Finally, after a little more than an hour, a woman wearing a very nice suit stepped out into the hallway.

  “Mr. Chan will see you now, Mr. Carter.”

  Amanda stood and held out her hand. Paul grabbed it firmly and hauled himself up, crying out as he did so. They both stepped toward the door, but the woman held up a hand just shy of Amanda’s chest.

  “I’m sorry, but this hearing is for employees only.”

  “This is my daughter,” Paul said. “I’m raising her by myself.” Amanda couldn’t help but notice that she was always his stepdaughter or Mom’s daughter, unless he needed to use her for something. Then, suddenly, she was his daughter.

  “Nonetheless—”

  “As you just saw, ma’am, I need her help to get up and down from a chair. Unless I’ll be standing for the hearing?”

  “Well, no, but—” The woman bit her lip.

  “Then she can come in. C’mon, baby girl.” Her stepfather grabbed her hand and, in spite of his injury, practically pulled her into the office.

  A man sat behind a fake wood desk, reading a Pad. He didn’t even look up as they walked in, but pointed distractedly at the guest chair that faced the desk.

  “Have a seat, Mr. Carter.”

  There was only the one chair, so after holding out a hand and letting her stepfather use it to brace himself to sit, moaning the entire time, Amanda just stood next to him. At the sound of those moans, the man looked up.

  “I’m sorry, but your nurse will have to wait outside.”

  “That’s not my nurse,” Paul said. “That’s my daughter, and this affects her.”

  Chan looked as if he was going to say something, but apparently thought better of it. “Very well, as you wish.” He gestured to the woman who had escorted them. “Thank you, Ms. Ginghina.”

  The woman nodded and left via a different door.

  Then Chan turned to speak directly to Paul. “Mr. Carter, you’ve applied for injury compensation based on the incident that occurred on the ninth of April, is that correct?”

  “Yes,” Paul said.

  “According to the report your supervisor filed, you arranged a series of crates at Loading Bay 9, but your loader did not properly grip one of the crates, and it fell to the floor. Your attempt to avoid being crushed resulted in a back injury.”

  “The loader wasn’t working right, sir.”

  “In fact, according to the follow-up report by your supervisor, the loader was in perfect working order.” Chan looked up from his Pad and stared at her stepfather. “However, according to the report from the company doctor, your alcohol level was at point nine, which is over the legal limit for intoxication.”

  Amanda shot her stepfather a look.

  “That’s not possible,” Paul said. “The test must have been administered wrong. I hadn’t had a thing to drink on the ninth.”

  Thinking back, Amanda recalled being awakened by Paul coming home blind drunk on the night before his accident. So strictly speaking, what he said was the truth, but there had to be alcohol in his system, left over from the previous night’s binge.

  “The test was administered properly,” Chan said firmly. “You came to work in an impaired condition, and Diamantakis is not at fault for what happened. Therefore, as per the terms of your employment contract, you are not entitled to compensation. In addition, that selfsame contract stipulates that being intoxicated during working hours is grounds for termination.

  “Said termination is effective immediately.”

  “What? That’s bullshit,” Paul cried out, as he started to get up, “I wasn’t fucking dru—AAAAAAAAAH, fuck!” He fell more than sat back in the chair, as the act of getting up on his own was too much for his injured back.

  “Please mind your language, Mr. Carter,” Chan said. “Clearly your injuries are real, at least—I have to admit that my first instinct upon reading the report was that you were claiming a worse injury than you truly sustained. However, they are due entirely to your own negligence. Your final payment—which will include the entire pay period through to the end of the month—will be sent to your account by the end of business today.”

  Good, Amanda thought, then he probably won’t even notice the hundred and fifty I took.

  “This is bullshit,” Paul said through clenched teeth. “I wasn’t drunk, the fucking loader was busted, and now you’re trying to cover it up with—”

  “Mr. Carter, I won’t ask you again to mind your language. Your contract with Diamantakis is terminated. Please depart.”

  “I’m not leaving here until I get some fucking satisfaction!”

  Chan looked at Amanda. “Please help your father to his feet and take him away.”

  She reached for her stepfather, but he batted away her arm.

  “Fuck you, Chan, I’m not—”

  “Mr. Carter, my next step will be to summon security. I can have them remove you forcibly—with, I suspect, very little regard for your spinal difficulties—or you can allow your daughter to help you take your leave with your dignity intact. Please choose.”

  Chan stared at Paul with an almost bored expression.

  Paul stared back with a murderous one.

  Her stepfather blinked first.

  “Fine. Gimme a hand, baby girl.”

  Again, Amanda put out her arm for him to grab. He moaned as he got to his feet.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” The epithet was said with a sneer aimed right at Chan. By that time, however, he wasn’t looking at them. His attention was back on his Pad.

  As they walked through the halls of Diamantakis, Paul said, “Well, that school wasn’t doing you any good anyhow.”

  “What?” Amanda shot her stepfather a look.

  “I’ve said all along you’re too good for that place. They can’t teach you anything you don’t already know, and there’s no fucking way we can afford it unless you work—and if you work, you can’t go to school. I’ll call them today and tell them you’re withdrawing, and we can start finding you a job. With your tech skills, and that internship from last summer, you’ll have something
great real fast.”

  Amanda considered arguing, but decided there was no point. For starters, Paul was right. He couldn’t work in this condition. And her meeting with Principal Bieo had proved pretty handily that she was, indeed, too good for Delaj.

  Besides, she had to earn back the money she had stolen.

  “Let’s go home,” she said.

  GEMINI EXOPLANET SOLUTIONS

  A SEEGSON COMPANY

  Audio Transcript

  Message from: BARTHOLOMEW HUGHES

  To: MARIE HUGHES (WIFE)

  Date sent: December 5, 2137

  Marie, listen to me very carefully. I want you to leave work now, collect Claire, pick up the cat, and head home. We need to find someplace safe until Seegson sends a ship. I saw the guy from down the hall—can’t remember his name, the one in the dirty baseball cap, weird smell—he had something in his coat. I think it was a gun. He just looked right through me.

  Don’t talk to anyone.

  Don’t tell them where you’re going.

  I’ll meet you as soon as I can.

  14

  LORENZ SYSTECH SPIRE, SEVASTOPOL STATION

  DECEMBER 2137

  With a cry of rage Amanda threw the flight recorder across the room. It was happening all over again. Signs of progress, promises of news, and nothing at the end of it.

  Her stepfather had been wrong, of course. As a sixteen-year-old tech school dropout, the number of technical jobs Amanda could find were few and far between, even with the internship. Pascoe-Keane had indicated a desire to hire her after she got her certification, but without that, the offer was void.

  The one company that would give her the time of day was a fly-by-night operation that had no safety standards. Amanda was there for two days before she was nearly killed by faulty wiring, and she quit—after fixing the faulty wiring, of course, and sending them a bill for the repair work.

  Which they never paid.