Andre knew he only had a matter of time before the Alliance Informatics Department came for an audit of the infrastructure – no, the ecosystem – that their co-op had built on the Hex. The structure was to become the premier data relay between the inner Sol system and the outer planets as colonies continued to spread, so the project was under tight public scrutiny. Except the Admin’s office had explicitly assured the co-op that they had significantly more time.
Which made him suspect another reason for their visit.
Which made him wonder where the AID was getting their information.
Andre had tried to minimize the effects of the delays they’d encountered as best he could, but anyone with boots on the ground could see early on that the project scope would soon escape the bounds of all their estimates. This was, after all, to be the largest space structure ever built, mostly automated and entirely self-sustaining. Once completed, the station would only need 5,000 human operators. Building it required five times that manpower.
All of the other issues, Andre couldn’t explain quite so well. Maybe they simply came with the territory when working on a project this immense. Data leaks, energy shortages, personnel problems, coding failures, technical malfunctions… he was grateful that no one had gotten hurt, even with a few close calls. Just the other day, an entire new wing of data cells went offline, putting the sector’s emergency life support systems to the test.
And yet, the Department was apparently in no rush to send their delegates. Andre was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, two weeks since Derryn told him of the impending visit on the shuttle out to the Hex. The news had dialed up the Sys-Admin’s anxiety to an entirely new level.
Andre sighed and closed the most recent report haunting his inbox, folding the holo away with a wave of his hand. The axe would fall when it would fall. He would set new expectations and projections with the data he had. The A.I.D. knew where to find them.
For now, Andre was hungry. And he didn’t feel like eating alone.
He strode out of his personal unit and into the corridors, lit by ambient reflective panels that imitated sunlight based on the Hex’s time of day. Personally, he found the foliage lining the edges of the floors and ceilings to be overkill, especially for a long-term crew of 5,000. But the Environmental department insisted that the plants were functional for life-support systems, non-destructive to the actual data infrastructure, and perpetual even without maintenance. Andre had seen this trend growing lately, shifting space architecture to be more “natural” – but natural to whom? He had grown up with clear, streamlined interiors his entire life. When you didn’t have much space in a spaceship, you tried to avoid filling it with unnecessary and ornate things.
By the time he arrived at the sector cafe, the lunch rush was on its way out. Before going to the counter, he spotted his co-op partner Hadad seated at one of the large round tables with several others. The light from a nearby water fixture reflected the single thick streak of silver running through the man’s black mane of hair. Andre could pick out his mentor’s familiar, charismatic low voice from across the room. He could also probably finish the story the older man was currently telling, word for word. But he had no interest in stealing Hadad’s thunder.
“And so I told him,” Hadad was saying, pinching his fingers to a point, leaning in just enough to compel his listeners to do the same. “My brother, does a bear not shit in the woods?”
The table erupted in laughter. Andre chose this moment to approach, piping in with the next line. “To the uninitiated, the answer to that is yes.”
Hadad turned to shake Andre’s hand from his seat, the finest age lines crinkling at the edge of his eyes. “My protege is correct. And I will add, personally, that it’s a sight to behold.”
Another round of laughter.
“Apparently you can see bears in person in some of the preservation domes on Earth,” said someone from the table. “You think the holos are accurate to what they’re really like?”
“I bet the holos exaggerate so the real thing ends up being a let down,” said another. “That’s what happens with most of the things you see online.”
“Oh, no,” Hadad said, getting quieter. “This is different. There’s something primal about being eye to eye with an animal in the wild, nothing between you but your very flesh. When that animal is an apex predator in its own right, your body knows it. Whether you’re Terran by birth, Lunar born, or you spent the entirety of your life in space, that instinct… that terror… will never go away. You do not get the same effect from a holograph.”
For a few seconds the table was silent. A shiver traveled up Andre’s spine.
“I wonder if it’s pheromones,” someone ventured. “That must be it.”
Hadad remained seated with his all-knowing smile while the rest of the table picked up their finished trays and departed with murmurs and nods. Andre slipped into a seat next to him.
“When did you watch a bear shit in the woods? That’s a story I’ve never heard.”
Hadad put a hand on Andre’s shoulder and laughed. “Another lifetime ago, my friend.”
“Nevertheless, based on that description, I’m glad you made it back alive.”
Hadad chuckled. “Me too. Have you eaten already? I didn’t see you.”
Andre shook his head. “I lost track of time. I’m just about to grab something.”
Hadad smoothed the collar of his jacket and straightened his sleeves, both superfluous as the man rarely had a hair out of place. “Want me to sit with you? I’ve got a meeting with the Department of Frontier Development but I can tell them to kick rocks, as it were.”
“You and your Terran sayings.” Out of the corner of his eye, Andre watched as a plain, freckled woman entered the cafe and drifted towards the replicator counter. He couldn’t place where he’d seen her before. “I’ll be all right. Give Kerrigan my regards.”
Hadad stood and gave him a pat on the back. “Considering how much she’s hounding you for that haptics safety update, maybe I’ll leave your name out of it.”
He let out an ignoble grunt as Hadad left, leaving only a handful of others in the large hall. Andre stood and approached the counter where the woman had been examining the holo menu for the last few minutes, scrolling through the most basic options universally available on Alliance replicators. She didn’t notice him as he came up to the counter next to her. The replicator scanned his profile and displayed a personalized menu that let him scroll through his most recent orders, his favorite chefs, items he ordered the most often, and recommendations based on his eating history, personal connections, and popular trending charts.
He’d thought her homely from afar. Standing next to her now, he noticed how her freckles concentrated over her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. Strands of gold highlighted her dark brown hair, which lightened near the ends. Despite her furrowed brow, he could see the faint crinkle of laugh lines at the edge of her eye. Her neckline dipped in a modest V, freckles peppered all the way down, her skin glowing as if she were warmed by the sun.
He must’ve stared longer than he thought, because she glanced over at him with a sheepish smile. “What do you usually order when you can have anything and everything?”
“I’ve got my favorites,” he said. “Would you like a recommendation?”
To his surprise, her brow knit tighter. She turned back to the screen with a hand on her chin. “I guess, but what am I even in the mood for? I could have something simple and nourishing. A breakfast burrito, maybe even a sandwich. Hell, it’s nutritionally optimized so I could eat double-bacon cheeseburgers for every meal. On the other hand, I could have a boatload of sushi. Or a seven-course ode to nano-gastronomy. Or a whole chocolate cake for fucks and giggles.”
He chuckled, disarmed of his usual social graces by her profane stream of consciousness. “That does sound like a conundrum.” He considered the last time he’d eaten something beyond the first few pages of the menu presented to him, something that pushed his boundaries.
“The seven-course ode to nano-gastronomy sounds… interesting,” he offered.
That got her attention. “I was mostly joking about that one.”
“But not the chocolate cake?” he countered.
She laughed, her melodious voice ringing a little loud for the space, momentarily catching the attention of the few other late lunchers in the cafe.
The imp of the perverse told Andre that for once, his afternoon pile of tasks could wait. He navigated to the nano-gastronomy section of the replicator menu and placed an order for the most popular chef’s tasting meal. The woman’s face lit up with mischief and she did the same.
She extended her hand. “I’m Mari. Would you like to eat this seven-course meal together? I feel kind of responsible for getting you into this situation.”
He shook her hand, warm and small in his. She was of average height but solidly built, her unadorned suit tracing her curves in a way he tried to ignore. “Andre. And I’m not entirely certain who got whom into what.”
“I’m also not sure what we’ve actually gotten ourselves into,” she added.
This close to her, he caught her scent – a hint of pine, grass, and fresh, earthy soil, transporting him to a place deep in his memory. A nearly forgotten place where the reeds swayed in the breeze and the cicadas chirped through the thick summer air.
“Do we have to wait for all seven courses, or…”
She was holding both of their first-course plates. He shook his head, breaking from his reverie. “The waiter will bring out the rest.”
“A waiter? Isn’t that a little more analog than people like up here?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, taking his plate from her. They sat at a table near the glass looking into the adjacent Hex cell – one of the verdant bioscapes managed by the Environmental Department to generate and circulate air and water on the station. The result was a remarkably ordered display of plants and clear piping, as functional as it was aesthetic.
“It’s not important.” Mari read the holographic label next to her plate. “For your amuse-bouche, please enjoy this trio of levitating orbs, each infused with a different essence – Lunar dust, Plutonian ice, and Martian-grown prickly pear and chili. Mmm.”
They popped the orbs into their mouths one by one and ranked them. Plutonium ice was too bitter but Lunar dust was pleasantly sweet, while the prickly pear was just the right balance of sour and spice. When they finished, a hover tray pulled up to their table with the next course.
“Oh, this is a waiter,” Mari exclaimed. They traded in their dirty plates and she watched as the tray navigated smoothly back to the replicator counter.
They ate spheres of nano-emulsified gazpacho and pumpkin soup presented in the shape of a yin-yang, greens with nano-encapsulated wildflower honey vinaigrette droplets that burst upon chewing, self-heating scallop carpaccio with salsa foam, and variegated protein steak. They spoke of the work he’d been doing and the job that brought her to the Hex just a week ago, when they realized they’d been on the same flight out of Luna.
Despite her capable demeanor, everything about her screamed that she was out of place, her animated personality barely contained within the walls of the station.
“So, where were you before here?” he asked, taking another bite of his steak.
She didn’t answer right away. They chewed in silence for a minute, her consternation directed toward the food on her plate.
It wasn’t an unreasonable question and Andre could already take a guess. His universal translator wasn’t activated and she spoke Standard in a dialect he understood despite her drawl. There were at least a dozen remote communities in North America that were still in the dark ages.
“What about you?” she asked instead.
He shrugged. “Around. My mother lives on Luna and I have a unit there. I’ve been on-site for this project for the better part of a year now, I just went back for her 90th birthday.”
She continued deflecting the conversation back to him. “Are you sick of it yet?”
“The project? Some parts of it, certainly. I love the science but I have no patience for the bureaucracy. My business partner can tank most of it but not all at this point in the process. We’re 95% there and it’s all inspections and approvals and… haptics security reports.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I don’t even know what haptics are. Or why they need security.”
He laughed. “Haptics cover physical feedback. For example, you feel buttons at your fingertips when you scroll through a holographic menu. You can pick up objects or run into walls when you run a holo simulation. Flocks of nanobots help turn these programs into physical realities, but they must be calibrated for power surges and tested for emergency failsafes. Plus, you don’t want anyone with ill intentions accessing or altering these data streams.” He caught himself. “I’m getting a bit carried away. Forgive me for the monologue.”
She shrugged and leaned in, elbows on the table. “I like learning new things.”
The waiter appeared at their table for the next course, the last one before dessert, presented to them in a vial. They took turns spraying palate-cleansing aromatic mists for each other to inhale that took them through a kaleidoscopic burst of sorbet flavors. Finally, they took turns plucking pieces of cake made to look like fruit suspended from a clear gelatinous matrix.
By the end, he found himself licking his fingers clean just like her.
“That was a journey,” Mari declared, leaning back and patting her stomach. “I was expecting it to be overrated, but the chef deserves all the stars.” Lazily she poked at the air around her, likely leaving a review for the meal on a menu only she could see.
Andre looked up to find the cafe otherwise empty, two hours since he first arrived. The station’s ambient afternoon light had begun to wane but it was still too early for the dinner crowd. Mari watched him from across the table, her face inscrutable.
“I’m from Appalachia,” she said, finally. “Deep in the mountains.”
He nodded. “I still have family in the Atlantic swamp. Not many left, though.”
She regarded him thoughtfully. “Yeah? I wouldn’t have pegged you as a southern boy.”
He dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “Not me. Space born, Lunar raised, summers in Mars after my parents split. Except that one summer my mother sent me to live with our extended Terran cousins. I guess she wanted me to experience something… different.”
She crossed her arms, her body looking smaller in the booth. “Different?”
He cleared his throat as he considered how to tread the conversational line before him. Earth was beautiful, but so were the swirls of Venus and the rings of Saturn. The parts of Earth he’d seen – even the cities preserved by domes – made him think of the untenable towns abandoned after the Climate War. The planet’s population would likely never return to its pre-War density, and that was a blessing, because what remained was a global wasteland so hostile to human life that the Alliance used the same atmospheric domes on Earth as they did on Mars.
“Culturally,” he said delicately. “It was interesting.”
Her smile was wry, wistful as she stood from her seat. “Shall we?”
Although it was a reasonable time for their meal to end, the energy between them had deflated. Andre had the feeling he’d failed some sort of test.
“Excuse me.” Andre caught up to her near the entrance to the cafeteria. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I’m not sure what I meant. I apologize if I’ve offended you.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this flustered. “I genuinely enjoyed having lunch with you.”
She sighed. “It’s not you. Well, not all you.” She hesitated, shifted on her feet. “I can just tell what people are thinking when they find out where I’m from.”
He searched her face. “What are they thinking?”
She gave him a knowing look. “What were you thinking?”
He’d thought about how he’d likely never visit Earth again. He’d imagined the kind of place she came from, whether the people who lived there still relied on paved roads and wheels, if they still butchered live animals, how they fed themselves without replicators. He’d wondered if her community had taken shelter under a dome or if they insisted on trying to inhabit an uninhabitable world until the Alliance would eventually rescue them from their hubris.
“I was thinking that I would like to see you again,” he said.
She blushed and dropped her chin, averting her gaze before glancing back up at him. “That was… smooth of you.”
“I was going for straightforward, but I’ll take smooth.”
A smile broke over her face, like the sun peeking out between the clouds. He’d never been much of a poet – and whenever he dabbled, he preferred cosmic poetry over Terran. Yet something about her inspired these unusual thoughts. They reminded him of images he’d seen for just a few months in his childhood, or holographic depictions of a world more foreign to him than familiar.
“Okay.” She flicked her hand and a connection request appeared in his contacts. “Message me a time and place. I haven’t had a chance to explore much out here yet.”
He nodded, feeling relieved and a bit superfluous as they now hovered in the entryway. “Which way are you headed?”
Derryn came rushing down the hallway followed by his ever-present assistant Jem, a short and slight enby whose face was perpetually obscured by a thick mop of dark bangs. They rarely spoke but they were always there, observing.
“Here you are,” Derryn huffed. “You weren’t answering my messages or calls so I had to locate you on the map. A.I.D. is arriving in an hour.”
Andre pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course. Giving us any more notice would be too reasonable. Please, lead the way, Derryn.”
Before leaving, he turned and offered his hand. “I look forward to next time, Mari.”
She took it with a teasing glint in her eye. “Likewise, Andre.”
He wanted to stay, ask her what was so funny, but it was time to go. He joined Derryn and Jem on an elevator platform to descend to the Administrative level, the system confirming their profiles before granting them access.
The massive hexagonal cells of the Central Sol Data Station were built to maximize information and energy storage. Each cell was ten kilometers across with the capacity to function as a self-sufficient space structure, as well as the ability to attach seamlessly to other hex cells. This allowed for the data station to endlessly expand from the one thousand hex cells currently clustered, a process that was already under way and would likely never end. While each cell had a habitable core for data sweepers to eat or rest between shifts, a cluster of ten hex cells near the hollowed center of the massive structure had been designed for long-term crew habitation.
The Sys-Admin operated on the lowest levels of this habitable area, giving the central control panel a view of the hex cells across the gap.
The rest of the co-op assembly was already in the conference room overlooking the control panel floor, which was buzzing with operators. Members of the assembly who were presently off-site had beamed in holographically, their forms solidified by nanobots as they sat on chairs or paced across the room. Hadad, responsible for Data Operations, sat near the center of the group like the Buddha at ease. Galaxial from Personnel Care perched nearby with her holo pen in hand to take notes, with Elira Sunita from Environmental next to her in a dress that looked like it was made from overlapping leaves. Brahim and Huo from Compliance and Standards never looked particularly pleased to be anywhere and this meeting was no exception. Noreo, the long-suffering construction lead who’d been on the station longer than any of them, looked ready for something fermented. The Maintenance and Support team might as well have had popcorn the way they stared at Andre as he entered.
At this point, Andre had resigned the InfoSec department to being the problem child of the group. Every project needed one, he supposed, and this was his turn. His department had fought valiantly through every wrinkle and twist that had come their way, but building the first quantum-resistant, multivariate, polynomial cryptography system – on what was to be the the largest dynamic data storage facility ever made – wasn’t supposed to be easy.
Derryn briefed the room on what to expect. Yasbel Irphanov, Sector 5 Administrator, would be arriving imminently and had already requested full Sys-Admin access for three A.I.D. audit teams. All assembly members were to double-check their systems and note any inconsistencies.
Another assembly meeting that could have been an email.
“My stars, they’re already pulling up.” Derryn clapped his hands. “Let’s go, people!”
The various holographs faded out as Hadad, Galaxial, and Noreo stood.
Derryn pointed at Andre. “You, stay.”
Andre sighed. Hadad gave him a pat on the back before leaving with the others.
“Yes?” Andre said instead of, What is it this time?
“The Admin asked to meet with the head of InfoSec specifically,” Derryn said. “They requested for you to be present when they come on board.”
He boarded another elevator platform with Derryn and Jem to the landing bay. The U.A.S. Optimus, the biggest and newest super cruiser in the Alliance fleet, had pulled up into the central hollow of the Hex and sent a small landing craft to the passenger deck. The door opened and extended a platform to the ground. Derryn strode ahead with a smile and open arms.
Yasbel Irphanov was a tall and formidable woman, with long silver hair tied back into a high ponytail down to her knees. She and her auditors wore sleek, dark suits with Alliance badges pinned to their collars. Andre was familiar with her work, or at least some of the wilder stories that made it to his feed. Administrative was a long way from ousting pirate warlords and liberating space cults, but he supposed Sector Five had its draws as the new frontier.
“Welcome–” Derryn started.
“Thank you for your reception,” the Administrator cut him off, commanding the room as soon as she spoke. “Allow me to introduce my audit team leaders, Tristan and Linux.”
The team stuck to respectful nods over handshakes, leaving Derryn hanging. He played this off by combing Two more landing ships touched down on either side of the first landing party. Their doors opened and additional audit teams disembarked.
Derryn tried to keep up. “W–would you like a tour of the station, Administrator Irphanov?”
“Thank you, but we have the schematics,” said the auditor to the Admin’s right. “We appreciate your cooperation in this matter and our office will keep you informed as necessary.”
The Admin turned to Andre and motioned to the landing ship. “Mx. Lucaski, could you please join me?”
Andre exchanged glances with Derryn, who looked so perturbed at being left out that he actually felt pity for the man. He could sense the Sys-Admin’s glare boring into the back of his head as he boarded the Admin’s ship and the door closed behind them.
Yasbel motioned for Andre to sit, then sat across the aisle from him.
She did not speak right away. He resisted the temptation to fill the silence.
“Are you aware,” she said finally, “that you’re being hacked?”
Previous Part | Next Part
Read more on Wattpad or subscribe to Patreon to stay updated.