Gun Runner Page 2

  Fortunately, I had an advantage: I knew Rose would promptly tell them I was headed to the roof.

  Hitting the emergency override, I halted the elevator on the fourth floor, shoved a potted plant between the doors so they couldn’t close and hurried to the far end of the corridor.

  I’d grabbed more out of my stash than just one slim pistol. I had a few thin credit pieces and a single data-strip. The pistol went into my pocket even though it was almost too heavy for the papery fabric. That woman, Vera, had cheaped-out in every way she could.

  Using the data-strip, I managed to get the window open. It was a fire escape, and legally every resident in this complex had to have access to open it. I’d once lived here, and although I’d hated the place, I’d taken certain precautions in case one of my off-world deals had gone badly enough to force a sudden exit. That escape plan was in operation right now.

  Outside the window, the fire escape was a rickety affair. There wasn’t a ladder or even a railing out here. Instead, there was an escape pod, a cupola you were supposed to climb into and sit inside of. The cupola, once fired, would whisk you away to a predetermined safe-spot and dump you there, returning automatically for more passengers.

  I engaged the pod, feeling mildly sick as it whirled and swooped over the heads of a dozen guardians and humans in the streets outside. As testimony to the poor quality of their software, not one of the guardians looked up to see who was escaping and how. Instead, they were resolutely marching into the building, probably heading up to the roof where they imagined their quarry was trapped.

  Landing in a park square, I stepped out of the pod, brushed myself off and walked calmly away. A few jaws dropped and a few people took snaps with their implants—but I didn’t see any angry frowns. The people in the nicest districts weren’t used to crime of any kind. They were simply baffled.

  After a hundred steps and a few turns, I was only getting a few odd glances. At that point I snatched a sun hat off a sleeping bum on a bench and put it on. Every world had bums, no matter how rich and civilized they were. The guy sat up to complain, but I kept moving.

  A hundred more steps, and I was lost in the crowds. The face recognition software in a thousand street cameras was probably searching for me, but I had my hat pulled low, and I walked with a practiced hunch. It was hard to identify a man who knew how to avoid it—and I knew all the tricks.

  After a dozen small thefts on the streets, I had completely changed my appearance. The key was to avoid stealing nice things—I stole garbage. Worn-out clothes, dirty shoes and a flimsy disposable shirt and pants that had been discarded into overflowing cans—crap that no one would miss.

  Chapter Three

  It took hours of dodging around town, but I finally managed to reach the spaceport. Naturally, I didn’t walk into the passenger terminal and wave my pistol around demanding a ride. That would never fly on this planet.

  Instead, I headed to the commercial zone. That was the biggest part of any spaceport and also the zone most folks never saw.

  Employees here had implants in their fingertips that allowed them to pass through doors and gates. The easiest thing to do would have been to snip off an extra digit and carry it in my pocket—but I wasn’t that kind of guy. Instead, I thumped my pistol on the skull of a bewildered near-human driving a garbage cart. Lifting his limp thumb to the gate entrance, I soon had it gliding open for me.

  I sat the fallen garbage man on his cart, letting his head loll forward. It looked like he was taking a well-earned nap—which he was. The cart revved irritably, wanting to roll off on its endless quest for more trash to consume. The garbage man and I both ignored its impatience. Hopefully, the cart would wait for at least a half hour before reporting a maintenance problem. I needed a little time.

  Inside the freight zone of the spaceport, I walked around like I owned the place. I’d managed to lift a pair of rumpled coveralls that looked exactly like everyone else’s. Blending in was easy—but escaping on a ship wasn’t.

  Every berth was accounted for. Every carton was sealed, weighed and handled by humorless robots.

  The best thing about androids is they’re easy to fool—the worst thing is you can’t con them or bribe them. They don’t have any motivations beyond completing their assigned tasks.

  Sirens whirred outside then cut out suddenly. They were getting smarter. Why tell the quarry you’re closing in? Real predators creep up and pounce rather than issue a challenge.

  As a man who’d fled a hundred planets in a hurry, the situation should have been easy to manage. But this time was different. I had no support network here. Sure, someone in this spaceport could probably be bribed or convinced to do something off-script—but I didn’t have time to find them. Everyone I talked to was a boring straight-arrow—useless.

  Getting desperate, I exited the freight area as the security forces entered. They’d found the garbage man and his cart, that had to be it. Damn.

  Taking metal stairs two at a time, I sprinted up to a door and tried it. The door buzzed angrily, but it let me pass.

  Stepping into the passenger terminal, I looked around. I tried not to appear panicked. Taking on a task at random, I walked to the nearest trash can and pulled out a sack of trash. I took the trash into an alcove marked employees only and dumped it there. Then I went back for the next load.

  All the while, I was casing the place, looking for an angle. There had to be something—some way out.

  To my surprise, I noticed someone was watching me. She was smallish, young…

  “Rose?” I asked, aghast.

  She walked up to me hesitantly. She was staring. She had big pretty eyes and a small chin. She studied me with fascination, the way a mouse might eye a snake that isn’t hungry yet.

  “I found you,” she said.

  “Uh… yes. Nice to see you again. If you could excuse me—”

  “I traced you with my implants,” she said. “When you touched me, I caught your imprint. I used a search feature and—”

  “Yes, of course,” I said, feeling very glad I hadn’t touched one of the guardians. They probably had the same capabilities.

  “You’re not from Prospero. You’re not even registered here. I don’t see how you came to be on my world.”

  “It’s a mystery, but right now, I need to get off your lovely homeworld. People don’t like me here.”

  She blinked a few times. “I’ll get you off-world.”

  “What? How?”

  “Come with me. You’re my unregistered servant. Just don’t talk.”

  Rose turned and walked away. I hesitated. Following this innocent to God-knew-where was insane. She was as likely to walk me to the guardian station as anywhere else—but I could see pairs of androids walking around on the tarmac outside the terminal now. They were closing in.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I followed after Rose.

  We walked past one commercial flight after another. Each terminal adjoined to a shuttle—a vehicle that amounted to a flying bus—these shuttles whisked passengers away to distant blast-pans. The blast pans were scattered like craters all around the vast field. They were shaped dishes of concrete that kept the exhaust and radiation of each lifting spaceship from roasting everyone around it.

  Once past the commercial flights, I reached out and touched Rose’s shoulder. She spun around, her eyes full of fear.

  “Rose,” I said, “where are you taking me? The commercial flights are all—”

  “I’m taking you past this area, to the private sector.”

  I blinked. “You’re rich…”

  “My mother is. She’s an Elector.”

  “Seriously?” I asked, stunned. Electors were minor members of the Conclave: upper class rulers that ran the human worlds.

  I couldn’t believe my luck. Of all the people I had to accost, it had to be the daughter of the elite. No wonder the entire city’s guardian force had turned out to track down a single escaped clone.

  “Why are you helping m
e?” I asked her.

  For the first time, Rose looked troubled. She studied the floor between us.

  “I don’t know… you’re different. You didn’t harm me—but you’re still frightening. After we met… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  “Okay… fine. What’s the plan?”

  “Don’t talk. Follow me. I’ll get you aboard and off-planet. Once we’re at a free port, you’ll be able to go wherever you want.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. I had no identity, no wealth. Perhaps Rose could escape her dull reality this way. Perhaps she’d planned it out a thousand times in her head and was even now vicariously experiencing her fantasies through me.

  But none of that mattered. I needed to get off of Prospero and out into the free shipping lanes. At least out there, I stood a chance.

  More importantly, once I was in space, I knew I had friends. The farther away from the Conclave worlds I could get, the better.

  Rose led me to a private area of the spaceport. Here, the bustle and noise of the commercial zone was left behind. The music was tranquil, the people either lovely or obsequious.

  “Mistress O’Neal,” a servile flight agent said. He bowed so deeply, I thought he might injure his back. “How can we help you today?”

  “I need access to my mother’s sloop,” she said.

  The flight agent’s eyes fluttered over me and then her. He dared to entertain a frown for a few seconds, but the moment soon passed. “Is this flight scheduled? Your mother’s ship is in maintenance mode. The flight crew—”

  Rose lifted a hand. She spoke with authority. “Stop program. Override.”

  The flight agent experienced a shiver. It was only then I realized he was an android. He was so damned real… A model-Q, I imagined. You only saw them on the inner Conclave worlds.

  “Restarting,” the agent said. He looked at us again, as if just meeting us for the first time. “Mistress O’Neal,” he said, bowing low again. “How can we help you today?”

  “What crew member units do you have on hand? I wish to rent them.”

  “Of course. We have a full complement… for what vessel?”

  “The Dawn Star,” she said. “My mother’s yacht.”

  “Of course… seven personnel are recommended. They’re being activated now. Your mother’s ship, however—”

  “It’s in maintenance mode, I know. Discontinue maintenance.”

  “That will require a priority override.” He held out a hand with slim fingers. His perfectly shaped palm was turned up and waiting.

  Rose didn’t hesitate. She touched her fingers to his palm, authorizing the changes and making a payment.

  The android’s smile flickered. “Done. Here is your crew now.”

  He turned and indicated a set of doors. They slid open and seven androids stood there. They looked like people, pretty much—but they weren’t. They were probably model-Ks, except maybe for the captain. He was probably a model-Q like this kiss-up flight agent.

  After a few more minutes, signings and approvals, we found ourselves gliding out to the waiting ship. I eyed the vessel from a triangular porthole.

  “She’s a sleek ship. The Dawn Star, you said?”

  Rose turned to me in alarm. She gave me a tiny shake of the head. I shut up immediately.

  The android crewmembers eyed me strangely. They’d ignored me up until this moment. I wondered if I’d blown it somehow. These androids were programmed to obey Rose, but they were also tattle-tales. Maybe Rose had restrictions on her. Maybe her parents didn’t want her riding their sloop with a human friend—especially not a male stranger.

  “Unit Gorman,” Rose said. “Discontinue companion program.”

  I hesitated, but only for a moment. “Script halted,” I said in a neutral tone.

  After that, the crew stopped staring at me. Following their lead, I gazed blankly at the nearest wall and maintained a spooky silence all the way out to the waiting yacht.

  Chapter Four

  “So,” Rose asked shyly, “you’re a criminal, right?”

  “That’s what they tell me,” I said. “But I prefer to think of myself as a free-spirited individual.”

  Rose laughed at my explanation, which was the right response. Perhaps there was hope for her yet.

  We both sat around a table on the upper deck saloon. We’d carefully waited until the android crewmembers were at their stations on other decks before speaking. Once we’d reached orbit, Rose seemed to relax. Perhaps we were out of the reach of her parents—but I wasn’t so sure.

  “A free spirit? The words are ludicrous on the face of it, and yet they do seem to describe your approach to things. Now, my next question—you do agree that I’m owed a few answers after having helped you escape justice, don’t you?”

  “Absolutely, but I’m not escaping justice, I’m escaping a great injustice.”

  “How so?”

  I quickly explained that I was a clone and how I’d been slated for removal. She seemed sympathetic, but disappointed.

  “You’re not really a captain from the frontier then, are you? You’ve never really been out there.”

  Her words troubled me. I thought them over, then shook my head. “I disagree. I’m as real as anyone. My memories are reality.”

  “But only for you. Your flesh, your bones—they were never out at Tau Ceti or Orion.”

  I leaned forward, sipping one of the beverages the androids had handed to us before retreating to the lower decks. It was light green, fizzy, slightly sweet and very refreshing. I suspected the alcohol content was low, but it was still noticeable.

  “I read once,” I said, “that all the cells in our body die and are replaced every decade or so. Therefore, the flesh you are wearing now is completely unrelated to the body that walked Prospero as a child. Your early memories belong to a completely different set of cells.”

  Rose frowned. “That’s a disturbing thought.”

  “Not really. But it should establish that clones are people too. Besides, I suspect that my original form is dead. That’s why he stopped paying the rent on my existence.”

  “But no one reported you dead, right?”

  I laughed. “No, not to the Conclave. But that means nothing. Most of the things I’ve done in life the Conclave has no knowledge of.”

  She smiled. “That brings me back to my second question: what kind of crimes have you committed?”

  There was a sparkle of real excitement in her eye, and I knew then why she’d followed me, why she’d helped me escape, and why she seemed fascinated with me even now. Her life was dull and she’d grown tired of it. She wanted adventure—or at least she thought she did—and I was the closest she’d ever come to it.

  “I’m a merchant who trades in special goods out along the rim. Things you can’t get easily.”

  “Illegal things?”

  I shrugged. “Sometimes.”

  “Like what? Weapons? Drugs? Slaves?”

  “Weapons, mostly. Occasionally I give a berth to a special, paying customer.”

  “Fugitives and gun-running then…”

  “What do you know of such things?”

  “The vids talk about them. Violence is forbidden on a personal level, even in entertainment or news netcasts. But I’ve seen enough vids of ships being chased down and destroyed by patrol vessels.”

  One of the androids made an appearance then. I froze in place and didn’t even look at it. My hand crept away from the beverage.

  “Can I serve you, Mistress?” asked the female bot.

  “Yes. Two more green fizzies, please.”

  “Two?”

  “Yes.”

  The android might have glanced at me, or she might not have, it was hard to tell while you are staring into space like a dummy.

  Finally, the android retreated.

  Rose leaned forward and lowered her voice. “They’re beginning to suspect you’re human.”

  “Let them. We’re clear of the surface, and we’l
l soon be on the transom to the way-station.”

  “Yes, but… they’ll tattle on me. I’ll get in trouble.”

  I glanced at her, and I considered for the tenth time asking her to accompany me abroad. Once we reached the way-station, we were to part ways. I was going to be transmitted out to the fringe, where I belonged. She was going to return to her dull life.

  The problem was that neither one of us seemed anxious to separate.

  “Where can we go?” I asked. “Where we can talk in private?”

  The android stewardess returned and placed two more green drinks in front of Rose. Rose studied her drink for a long moment until the android left, then she handed it over to me. I gulped and sighed. I had memories of adult beverages, but my newly grown cells had never actually experienced one.

  “I have an android charging station in my quarters,” she said at last. “It’s no more than a closet, but…”

  “I accept the invitation.”

  Quietly, hearts pounding, we took our drinks to her cabin and quietly closed the door. She snicked shut the locks, and we both drank with more gusto. After we’d finished two fizzies each, I realized I was feeling it. There had to be a narcotic lace to the beverage.

  By this time, we were both sitting on the only piece of furniture in the cabin: a fold-down bed that pulled out and locked into place.

  “You’re quite a puzzle, Rose,” I told her. “I don’t usually get this kind of hospitality after putting a gun in a girl’s face.”

  She giggled. Her face was flushed. “Count yourself lucky—and stop wasting time.”

  That was it for me, I needed no more encouragement. I reached for her, and she melted against me. She seemed nervous despite the drinks. I might not have been the first man she’d stowed away in this cabin, but I was definitely the first dangerous fugitive.

  Hours later, the door began to chime. It was a soft, gentle sound. After the fourth chime or so, Rose pushed me out of bed.

  “Into the closet!” she said, pointing.

  Reluctantly, I folded myself into a tight space and stood at attention. She shut the door but I could still hear her as she opened the cabin.