2193 - Lagrange Station 2

A HISS OF AIR preceded the green indicator light, signaling pressure equalization between the personnel transport and the station. Jakk fidgeted with the comm display on her left forearm, seeming a bit antsy as she prepared to board LS2 for the first time. Karen was amused to see her first action after connecting to the station’s network was to start browsing the social apps, checking out the profiles of eligible young men she might have an opportunity to meet.

"Find anyone interesting?" Karen teased.

Jakk shifted her focus from the heads-up display monocle covering her right eye. "Just trying to get the lay of the place, Captain." She sounded as though she’d just been caught sneaking extra sugar rations. "I have never been around so many people before! You will be the only person here I know."

"Well, don’t believe everything you read. The Personnel Portal is very loosely regulated, especially compared to what you’re used to on Mars." Karen planted another small seed she hoped to eventually nurture. "You’ll find that facts are up for a little more debate out here." That was mostly true, although SIMCo seemed to back the Mayor’s version of reality for the most part. No reason to undermine the source of your primary labor pool.

The hissing air slowly quieted, mechanical locks clunked into place, and the ring of lights surrounding the airlock portal blinked from red to blue, indicating a good mate. Karen stared at the door control visual target, her helmet cam tracking every eye movement. As command pilot, the shuttle recognized her authority, and the indicator for the airlock door highlighted in her helmet display, waiting for her signal. She gave a verbal command, and the spring-loaded metal portal cover jumped inward about half an inch before gradually rotating down to lay flat against the floor.

"What about you?" Jakk asked. "Is there someone here, pining for your return?"

Karen tried to stifle an audible laugh, but she ended up coughing on it instead. "Me? No. I know almost all the workers on LS2, and half the transient residents." She wasn’t about to go through her list of failed relationships here and now. "Turns out there aren’t very many people I’m compatible with."

"Oh! Forgive me for suggesting that...I mean...," Jakk started, sounding truly embarrassed. "I understand that dúlì must naturally find an equal partner. Joining with someone who is committed and sharing their life debt would be an unacceptable proposition."

She didn’t respond to correct the assumption. It was easier to let Jakk believe it was a financial boundary that separated her from everyone else. Fortunately, the door opening sequence completed before her silence created an awkward moment that might reinforced Jakk’s imagined offense.

The two women kicked off the floor, laying horizontal to align with the portal. Transiting a doorway was pretty easy in the zero-g areas, as long as you came at the opening from the right angle. As the senior officer, Karen pulled herself through first, generally trying to ignore the pair of SIMCo Security Guards who snapped to attention when her identification registered in their helmet visors. "Enough of that, boys. You can relax," she said quickly, hoping Jakk hadn’t noticed them.

She heard Jakk muffle a snicker when she saw the two stiffened SSG forms floating there, slowly rotating in slightly different directions. It was impossible to be completely still in zero-g. The two men relaxed, returning their stunners to the ready position as Jakk extracted herself from the airlock. Under most other circumstances, the SSG could be quite intimidating. Which, she supposed, was the whole idea.

Fortunately, arriving with Karen had seemed to boost Jakk’s confidence, and the uniforms didn’t appear to phase her. She heard Jakk’s voice through her helmet speakers on a private channel. "Is this the way all dúlì are treated?"

"Don’t get used to it," Karen warned as they approached the guards. "I think the heightened protocol is only because the Mayor is on board."

The women pulled themselves along the corridor, hand-over-hand in the tight space to make sure no one was accidentally kicked as they passed between the guards on their way to the main cargo hub. Karen eyed them through her peripheral vision, noting the typical dark hair, long on top and shaved on the sides, paired with the same dark brown eyes. They SSG were all very tall, almost as tall as she was. Except for the personalized jìshúyuán markers in their hair, one dark crimson and one bright yellow, they could have been twins. Genetically, she thought, they were practically the same person.

As Karen slipped through the next portal into the larger cargo hub, she heard the bonk of Jakk’s helmet against another, followed by a girlish giggle through the open mic. She turned to see Jakk, who had never shown any difficulty maneuvering in zero-g before, somehow tangled up with the guard on the right who shared her yellow mark. He gave her a hand, helping her through the narrow opening, and they exchanged a wink as she passed through.

Once inside there was a bit more space, and Karen removed her helmet. Jakk floated up to her level, helmet already tucked under her arm. Her eyes scanned the hub, taking in all the activity, but Karen couldn’t let her get away that easily. "You know that only works once, right? You can’t literally throw yourself at every guy on the station."

Jakk put on her best shocked face. "Captain, I really don’t know what you mean!"

Karen had only been half-kidding, but decided to let it go. Her bitterness would seem ill-placed anyway, and she wasn’t looking to open that box of springs. "Here, grab this," she indicated to Jakk, taking hold of a moving bar on the wall. Jakk followed her lead, and they were pulled along around the edge of the open cylindrical space, avoiding the busy cargo traffic in the center.

"I’ve never seen so much stuff," Jakk mused. "Are all these containers full of ore, same as ours?"

"Most of them. The standard large containers are on their way to the refinery, where ore will be separated based on whether it’s more suitable for building material or fuel. But some of the smaller crates contain supplies and special-order equipment from Mars or Earth." Karen had an idea, and pulled up their manifest on her helmet display, focusing in on one of the smaller crates. She had a spark of hope that she’d found an answer to her cargo problem.

"All the way from Earth?" Jakk asked, amazed. "That must be very expensive."

"Yes. And time consuming. It takes six to ten standard months for a shipment to arrive."

"Is it more expensive to send it faster?"

"You’d think so, but it’s just the opposite." Karen scanned the cargo manifest and made a mental note of the particular container she needed. "It really depends on timing. You remember your orbital mechanics, right? About every two Earth years, the planets are in proper alignment, making the trip to Mars quicker and more fuel-efficient. Less fuel and a shorter lease on the ship result in lower transit cost."

"That makes sense," Jakk responded with a nod. Then she added, "Since the most recent alignment was half-a-year past, should the station expect to see an increase in Earth goods over the next few months?"

Clever girl, applying laws of planetary motion to economics. Karen needed that kind of help if she was going build a permanent crew. "You catch on fast, Jakk." The mover bar had pulled them almost halfway around the tubular hub now. Karen grabbed a ladder on the wall, her legs swinging out to the side with residual momentum as she changed direction to make her way toward the main ring. She decided to set Jakk up with one last piece of social advice before she started mingling with the residents. "Given the timing, you’re also more likely to run into a few visitors from Earth as well." She gripped the sides of the ladder with her boots for stability and continued pulling herself along using only her hands.

"Really?" Jakk said, sounding genuinely excited. "It would be fascinating to meet someone from Earth!"

She turned over her shoulder to make sure the younger woman was listening. "Don’t expect too much. No one from Earth is born with a commitment to SIMCo. They consider themselves above even dúlì." She paused to let that sink in. "It’s likely they won’t even acknowledge you exist."

"Thank you, Captain," she said, sounding disappointed. "I will keep that in mind."

Karen reached the end of the ladder at the top of the cargo hub, which emptied through a slip ring joint into a larger diameter section attached to the base of the main ring. She looked down between her feet to pass along a pro tip. "See these hand grips attached to the ring?" she said, indicating the handles bolted to the floor of the next section, just visible and slowly rotating around lip of the wall they were climbing.

"Sure. Which color should I grab?" Karen was impressed. Jakk had read up on the station layout, at least enough to know that different colored grips led to specific main ring entry points.

"None of them, unless you want to look like a first-timer," she said, happy to share information no one had bothered to teach her. "The engineers who designed them had obviously never been to space before." Karen admitted that was probably a bit harsh, but she had seen too many tourists get themselves tripped up trying to transition from the non-rotating section into the station. "Follow me," she said, pushing off the top rung of the ladder. She coasted over to the opposite wall, then did a half-somersault and kicked off again. "Aim for the blue ladder," she said, soaring past Jakk, whose head and shoulders were well into the hub. "That will take us down to cargo processing."

"Got it," she replied. "Thanks for the demo."

Karen grasped the blue ladder, and allowed her momentum to carry her feet-first toward their destination. It was amazing how quickly the brain oriented itself given the slightest hint of acceleration. There was no doubt about it, the end of the ladder was definitely down now. She continued hand-over-hand for a few meters, until she felt the artificial gravity pick up enough, then she slid down the rest of the way.

She quickly headed over to the cargo registration desk, hoping to finish the conversation while Jakk was out of earshot. Gravity on this level was about half that of Mars, a little more than the Moon. As she hop-shuffled toward the standing counter outlined in soft blue lighting, her rusty curls bounced off her shoulders and she remembered one of the perks of artificial gravity—without it every day was a frizz fest.

Approaching the counter, Karen put on her best smile to hide her nervousness. The attendant, a slightly heavyset man with a small cyan patch marking the right side of his short dark hair, greeted her in return.

"Miss Conn, so glad to see you! How was your excursion? Find anything interesting?"

"Hi Lu," she started, "it’s been a while. Nothing to celebrate this time, mostly iron and nickel. It was a good run though, enough to cover the bills." She glanced over her shoulder to see Jakk still making her way down the ladder. She had time. "Say, before my crewmate gets here, I have a small favor to ask."

"Just name it. You know I owe you."

Karen thought for a second, realizing their words were being recorded and processed like every other conversation on the station. Fortunately, the language AI focused entirely on word content and wasn’t able to pick up subtle clues in tone and facial expression. "One of the half-CM containers needs some...priority handling."

Lu raised an eyebrow at the request. Karen hated dragging him into this, but she was pretty sure he’d take the risk. "I think I understand. Let’s take a look at your cargo manifest," he said, gesturing over the countertop to bring up a holographic diagram of the ship’s container hold. "Can you point it out for me?"

Excellent. Lu knew how to be discreet. He could have asked for the container ID, but her answer would have been recorded. She poked her finger into a stack of boxes in the image, and one of the transparent blue half-cubic-meter containers now glowed orange. "Here it is."

"Ah, yes. Let me see," he said, pulling up the container properties menu. "Hmmm, it looks like this crate of..." he paused, overwriting some of the information, "...CO2 filtration units...needs to be routed over to maintenance instead of going to the refinery with the ore."

"Yes, thank you!" she said, relieved to have that taken care of. "That will be perfect." And just in time—she could hear Jakk shuffling toward them.

"Of course, the container is still bio-locked, so you’ll need to head down there at some point to sign off before it can be opened."

Brilliant. Now that it was marked as a commodity, no one would be able to open it except her. Relieved to have that out of the way, she turned to the side a little, opening a spot for Jakk to join her at the counter.

"What is all that about?" she asked, nodding toward the image hovering between her and Lu.

Karen grabbed the holographic cargo hold, and rotated it so Jakk could have a better view. "Here, take a look at this. Everything we collected is shown here. Now that the cargo is registered, it will be unloaded by drone and taken directly to the refinery." Well, most of it. She closed her fist, then gestured down toward the counter with an open hand as though throwing something into a trash bin, causing the image to shrink and drop out of view.

With the display out of the way, she turned to Lu, who was waiting for an introduction. "Jakkie, this is Lu-ch’an, head loadmaster for LS2. He knows where every crate, person, and piece of equipment are on the station. This whole place would be out of balance and shake itself to pieces without him."

"Wow, sounds like an important job! You can call me Jakk, by the way," she said, extending her hand.

"Thanks, I’m Lu," he said, brushing the back of his hand against the back of hers in the standard uniformed greeting. Gloved hands were pretty good for grasping tools, but not great for handshakes. "Miss Conn is being very generous. The load-balancers are all automatic, and any vibration would be so low-frequency you’d hardly notice anyway."

Jakk turned back to Karen. "Do you know everyone on the station then?"

"Almost," she replied. "Lu and I go way back. He was two classes behind me in Childhood Ed."

Jakk perked up a little more, if that were possible. "Ooh, tell me all about it! I bet you have some interesting stories about the Captain."

Karen decided to interrupt. She really needed to get to her cabin and decompress for a while before seeing her father again. "Oh, there’s not much to tell, I’m sure. Besides, Lu is very busy," she said, hoping he would take the hint. "Right, Lu?"

"Yes," Lu said, clearing his throat, "very busy. But I will say that Miss Conn helped me prepare for testing. Without her, instead of being jìshúyuán," he paused to rub his hand over the blue spot in his hair, "I’d be trapped in a mine someplace."

"Don’t be dramatic Lu," Karen replied, moving toward the entry hatch in hopes to forestall one of his lengthy stories. "I’m sure you’d have been fine on your own." She didn’t understand why he made such a big deal about it. She only did what she wished someone had done for her.

She placed her palm on the scanner next to the hatch, and the matching hand outline turned green as it found her in the database. She was unique enough for the 3D facial recognition cameras work, but she hated seeing her face on the screen so she usually opted for the palm or retinal scan. Her financial status flashed on the screen: Balance: 12,483 credits. Lien of 25,000 credits, return pending.

Nice. Once the ship was empty and checked back into the SIMCo fleet she’d get the deposit back, plus a couple thousand or so for the ore. At this rate, soon she’d be able to rent a ship without borrowing against her life. That would be real freedom.

"Your turn Jakk," she said, backing away from the terminal to give her some privacy. Karen knew she’d be at least twenty thousand in the hole due to her specialized training. No need to rub it in. Jakk approached and waived her wrist over the console, which flashed green when it picked up her identification. Apparently she had one of those new RFID tattoos that were so popular with her generation. "You realize someone can scan that thing from a distance right? Pick up your ID tag from across the room without you even knowing it?"

"Of course! How else will people be able to find me? No offense, Captain, but people see you coming a klick away."

"Good point, Jakk." My, how things had changed, even in the past ten years. The younger crowd really put themselves out there, sharing everything with everyone on the network in hopes to be noticed. What she wouldn’t give to be able to hide away whenever she felt like it. No chance of that, especially this evening. But, there might be at least one friendly face there. She turned back before stepping through the portal. "Hey, Lu, you on duty at the restaurant tonight?"

He looked up from his work for a moment and flashed a grin. "Sure thing! See you later, Miss Conn." Of course. He knew the drill when the Mayor was on board.

She skipped through the open door, putting her hand on the upper frame to make sure she didn’t hit her head, and joined Jakk on the other side.

"What does a loadmaster do at the restaurant?" she asked with a puzzled look.

Karen smiled. So much to learn yet. "Lu also tends bar. You might say it’s an...unofficial duty." One that paid more than SIMCo, when tips were good. Though few were successful, paying off the life debt was a universal dream—everyone had a side hustle.

Next Chapter: Chapter 7