Broken Flyght – Chapter 6

I have two objectives on Orbital Station One — pick up my brother’s trail and meet my other potential engineer. I’m dreading both of these missions. I’ve grown to hate everything about my brother. I wish I could hire a hitman and be done with him. And I’m also not feeling very generous about another new man after meeting Sean.

These two thoughts — hitman, Sean, hitman, Sean, hitman — swirl in my head as we make our way through the station until I’m convinced I want to hire a hitman for Sean. Wait. No. I don’t hate him that much… yet.

I haven’t been on OSO in a few months, and I used to come here about twice a year when I was between semesters and traveling with family. So, of course, I’m dreaming about food. There are foods here that I can’t find anywhere else in the Duo Systems, especially the fried Mi Goreng noodles. My mouth waters as we pass the arm of the station that has the best food stalls in a colossal hawker central cafeteria.

“Okay, let’s make this quick, Carlos. I’ve got an empty belly and food to eat before I meet this other engineer for the ship who I’ll probably hate.”

“Way to be positive, Captain.” Carlos sidesteps a hovercraft full of crates. “My friend’s shop is on the other side of the station, and he’s the best contact I have in Station Security. I asked him to do some digging for us. If anyone can help us, he can.”

“Fine.” I sigh and turn around to look at the retreating hall of fried goodness, and a man quickly avoids my eyes.

Hmmm, do I know him?

I don’t think so.

He may know me from that OEN segment. I push my hair into my face and keep my eyes pointed forward.

I follow Carlos through the station’s public areas, letting my eyes linger on groups of people as we walk along. I love people watching. It’s right up there with storm watching as one of my favorite activities.

The diversity of an orbital station always thrills me. A family of Indians wearing saris talk at the top of their lungs to each other in the middle of a walkway. A flutter of black catches my eye as a woman in full modest wear walks by with a cluster of men behind her. Any of these groups could easily distract me, but it’s a duo of flashing hands that brings me to a stop. “You never listen to me. I told you the shop was closed for the month.” “We’re only here once a year. I thought it was best to check.”

It’s weird to ‘overhear’ someone at least ten meters away from you.

I grew up speaking Japanese, Portuguese, and English at home and at school. I was trilingual from the get-go which was no big deal for someone from a wealthy landowning Ossun family. So when I went away for university and my academics counselor asked me what languages I wanted to study, I chose Spanish and Universal Sign Language. It turns out I hate Spanish. It’s too similar to Portuguese, and I’m always getting things wrong. But USL? I love it. I aced every test at school because I can practice my USL several times a month.

USL is a common language because the settlement of the Duo Systems did not come without setbacks. First, we had the Vir Gene, a horror of our own making. Then came the NV virus that stole the voice of five generations before we came up with a vaccination. We had three people who were mute who worked for my family, and I often acted as a translator when I could. Only a fraction of people from my generation and the one after me have been affected by NV. No vaccine is ever perfect, unfortunately. But USL lives on for the mute and deaf.

I tear my eyes away from the couple signing to each other to give them their privacy. Just because I can understand what they’re saying doesn’t mean I should eavesdrop.

I follow Carlos through two public corridors before reaching another row of shops. This is the tech section of OS, and as such, not a place I visit frequently. My wristlet and implants were purchased on Palo Alto in my late teens. Everything else I’ve inherited from my parents as gifts or hand-me-downs.

When we step into the three-meter-wide store, the smell knocks me back two paces.

“What the…?”

It’s hard to place, but it’s the smell of centuries. Of people long gone. Of cultures annihilated by war.

You wouldn’t think that has a smell. But it does. Rusty and sharp, with a hint of mold.

“Oh my God,” Carlos breathes out, his eyes wide as he stalks up to a display of gray plastic. “No. It can’t be.”

“It is.” A young man, muscular and heavy-set, steps out of the back room. “Carlos, my man! How are you?”

The two laugh and clasp hands. The other guy swipes his hand through his mane of thick hair before catching sight of me. I carefully enter the aisle, slipping in between the racks of items sideways.

“Can I help you?” he asks, a polite smile on display for a customer.

“I’m with him.” I point to Carlos as my gaze sweeps over everything towering around and above me.

I’m not into anything vintage except for the family heirlooms my parents have saved for generations, but I recognize some stuff on the shelves here. I knew a few guys in secondary school who were into Earth-era video games. The systems they owned had been reconstructed or salvaged and patched together from real Earth relics. Others had been printed and assembled as a hobby.

“Oh, reallllllly?” The guy raises his eyebrows at Carlos.

“No, dude. She’s my boss, so cool it, okay?” Carlos clears his throat. “Vivian Kawabata, Captain of the Amagi, this is one of my buddies, Yan Ramirez. And he is going to tell me how he got a classic NES right this minute.”

Yan examines his fingernails. “You know I don’t give up my secrets.”

“You will, or I’ll pull those fingernails and make you scream for mercy.” Carlos’s voice is deadly serious, and then they both break out laughing.

I sigh and find a square centimeter of space to lean against while I wait.

“Half of it is printed, but the inside is pristine, and it includes games.”

Carlos licks his lips. “I’m saving up for that one. I swear it.”

“Well, get in line. Half my customers are dying to buy it.” Yan jerks his chin at us. “Come to the back where we can talk.”

My hair stands on end for a brief moment, the lights in the store flicker, and a zap-pop explodes in the doorway. A man across the walkway bolts to the left as I jump and squeak. I’m this close to knocking over a towering display of colorful cubic objects. They sway for a brief moment before becoming still again.

“Holy shit. Was that…?” Carlos points to the door, and the puff of smoke left behind.

“Disruptor field,” Yan says. “I switched it on when you arrived. You didn’t notice you were being followed?”

My mouth dries. “I… Maybe?”

Carlos turns to me. “Maybe, Captain?”

“I-I thought it was someone I knew? Or he recognized me from that crappy news segment.” I’m not used to this clandestine shit. “What exploded in the door?”

I rub my arms to chase away the goosebumps.

“Probably a bug drone. I was wondering what he’d do when we moved to the back of the store. Come on.”

He waves at us to follow him. I can’t help but look over my shoulder the entire time.

I’m being followed.

Who even knew I was going to be here besides my crew and…

My upcoming blind date.

I have a bad feeling about this whole day.

Behind the closed door of the back office, Yan is relaxed.

“I got what you asked for,” he tells Carlos, holding out a small data drive in his fingers. Carlos reaches for it, and Yan snaps his fingers back. “You have to tell me what you’ll use it for. I covered my tracks, but I need to know. Just in case.”

“I told you,” Carlos mumbles between clenched teeth. “It’s a totally personal matter.”

“Nothing is ever personal.”

“It’s my brother,” I interrupt. “We’re tracking him.”

Yan’s face transforms from stern to slack. “Wait, wait. Didn’t I see you on OEN?”

Carlos shrugs at me. “I told you not to come.”

“Look, I’m not going to be a prisoner on the ship day and night just because I’ll be recognized.” I turn to Yan. “My brother’s done a runner, as you already know. I’m going to find him and figure out why.” I hold my hand out. “I believe Carlos paid you for the data. I’ll take that now.”

“Sure, sure,” he says, chided. “It’s a family matter. I get that.”

“Thank you.” I relax as I slip the drive into my front pocket. “I appreciate you helping us out. My family is grateful. We’ll leave you to your business now.”

I bow and grab Carlos’s arm to go when Yan speaks up.

“You should know something about that footage I got for you.”

“What? What’s up?” Carlos asks, pushing his hair behind his ears.

“If your brother is the one in the video I’m thinking of, then he was followed as well. From the arrival gate to wherever he was going.”

Carlos’s jaw tightens. “I told you to get me the gate feeds for forty-eight hours, not to do the digging for me.”

Yan shrugs. “Blame my nosy personality. This is why my second job is in security.”

“Any chance you know the people following him?” I reach into my pocket and wrap my fingers around the drive. Who will I see on the video? I have a few ideas.

Yan shrugs again. “Any chance you’ve pissed off the mob?”

Carlos swears in Portuguese, which I wasn’t suspecting. He usually stays buttoned-up around me.

“Any chance you could identify a few people if I gave you photo files?” I reply.

It’s a long shot, but it’s worth trying.

“Any chance you could give me a lift to Rio for free?” He counters, and I laugh. “I just got word that one of my contacts has some prime late 21st century Earth tech that I’m dying to get my hands on.”

“We have a day or two here first while we bring on more supplies, and then we’ll be heading to Rio.”

He raises his eyebrows twice.

I jut out my hand. “Information for the lift to Rio. Deal?”

He pumps his fist with a silent ‘yes!’ before meeting my hand to shake.

“Deal.”