The airtrain trundled across the desert floor on a cushion of electromagnetic energy, dampened inside the cabin, thankfully, so my insides didn’t want to continually meet with my outsides. Two other passengers enjoyed the blurred view, neither of them talkative, for which I was eternally thankful. As a space pilot, I only had to communicate with the robots, and then only to get permission to takeoff or arrive somewhere. Social chitchat was definitely not my strong point.
I opened my lapad, looking for news about the trash hauling business, hoping against hope that a contract would turn up big enough to keep me out of the knackers yard. Nothing new. I looked for news about space piloting in general, nothing but a bunch of blogs bemoaning the demise of human participation, much in favor of the automation and robotic trend that was now nearly one hundred years long.
I swiped to the general news section, got really involved in an argument between Brazil and the US, over who had the best technology for Space elevators, given that the 12 year old inventor was a Brazilian, the first five elevators had been built in Brazil, and Brazil exported the other four elevators that were erected in other countries. Kind of made the argument redundant, just like Space pilots!
I swiped up the ad I had responded to, and tried to divine why they needed so much security for the interview. After all, most communication between people these days was from pad to pad, and as secure as technology could make it given about six billion people were all using the same link at the same time. Security remained firmly inside your own head, an illusion you generated and held onto for deal Life to navigate through the technological mess we now called our world. But it was well known that several very large corporates - VLC’s for short, they ran the Earth and near Planets now - maintained at great expense private call booths around the world for really secure communications between their very senior executives, given that information or data was still the gold currency and just about anyone could hack anything these days, or could find someone who could for a song.
The airtrain arrived with a jerk, reminding us that anything mechanical still had a mind of its own, so I waited until the other passengers moved out the door, then followed. The terminal was all stained glass and nusteel, giving the impression of a laboratory mixed with a pizza parlor, and as I moved onto the moving walkway, I noticed how few people there were, given that this was supposedly the most populated location for a thousand kilometers in any direction. Robots and machines were everywhere, trucking cargo, cleaning the walls, and just being obsequious.
The comms booth reared up at the end of the walkway, resplendent in a 3D flashing logo, announcing the superiority of “Genesis Transportation”, the “future of mankind in Space”. Nothing like a little modesty to start your day.
I pushed my ID through the scanner, put my right eye to another scanner, then my left hand on a third scanner, then stood still, as a booth-style full body scanner passed up and down me, rotating ever so slowly, with just a hint of menace. Amazing how threatening a passive robot could be just by looking at you with little flashing LED’s.
A door hissed open, and behind me a very solid wall rose up out of the floor, and as I approached the screen wall, the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck started to tingle, feeling the effects of the sonic radiation from the EMP field.
I sat down.
The screen flashed up the “Genesis Transportation” logo.
Then a grey-hair swam into focus, dressed in a military uniform of some description, high collar hiding a floppy neckline.
“P.J.Anthony.”
“Yes, sir.” Couldn’t help myself, nice wasn’t my strong suite, any more than good manners were, but the animal in me deep down recognized the military posture, and responded almost automatically. Pavlovian training will do that to you.
“Currently between contracts, vessel owned by Cirius Corp, sufficient fuel for two trips, ablative heat shield for one.”
This time my forebrain took control, and I just stared at the image, with what I hoped was casual distain, but on the other side probably looked like a chastised puppy dog. They had the dope, to the second, which meant they had an eye or two on me, and usually that meant you were either slated for a messy unsolved death, or an equally messy job, and then an unsolved death!
“We have a proposition for you. We want you to take a cargo out to the Lagrange-four point between Earth and Mars, transfer it to a second vessel, and then return to Earth. Your ship is being upgraded and repaired as we speak, new heat shield, some navigation mods, engine upgrade, and the cargo will be loaded and sealed before you leave here, and we will pay you one thousand new dollars a day, point to point, including today. You may have a small cargo to bring back, you will be informed of that at the transfer point. If you do have cargo, we will require you to land it at a nominated destination that we will give you enroute.”
I looked at the image, checked the facial features for any signs of deception, but to truthful, his face was so wrinkled and scarred he could be telling me anything and I wouldn’t have a clue if it were true or otherwise. What I had going for me was the trouble they had taken to hold this conversation in the first place, and the fact that it was me, a complete nobody, they were having it with. Meant only one of two things. Totally illegal death-by-association cargo, or top-secret military activity outside the normal government and corporate channels.
Either way, my survival chances had plummeted to below zero, not the least problem being I was trapped inside a technology coffin with no way out if that was what they decided. My defeatist thinking must have leaked through my face, because suddenly the figure on the other end of the call leaned slightly forward, creating the impression he was falling out of the screen.
“You personally security is guaranteed, we have posted a million dollar bond with the Council, and a full transcript of this transaction will be held in camera for your use should you ever need it. We want you to come back, and we need you to be willing to repeat the job if we need it.” The hairs on the back of my neck were now standing so straight it was like I had a fur collar running across my shoulders, because as I have mentioned previously, the only reason a human was employed for anything to do with Space was as a backup to the automatic systems, to ensure a valuable cargo got to where it was supposed to go. Humans being the least costly alternative, of course.
“Thank you.” I rose to leave, but the top of the metallic screen support opened up, blocking my exit.
“You need to take this with you.” A blue bag about the size of half a body rose up out of the floor, accompanied by a shiny new uniform wrapped in plastic. The “Genesis Transportation” logo was hard to miss, as was the beam weapon sitting on top of the bag. I look back up at the image, forming a question, but before I could ask, the husky voice jumped all over my confusion.
“Temporary duty as a GT Captain, when you get back you will have the choice of signing on full time, or going back to adhoc cargo hauling. We have fitted your shuttle with some communications equipment that requires a GT ID, so we will be in communication with you out and back. Any questions?” Only a million, I though to myself, marveling that such a one-sided conversation could change my Life so thoroughly, and so fast.
“Charts, route planning, timing?” I croaked, finally getting my dry mouth to function.
“In your shuttle, call me when you get the navigation package.” The image dissolved back into the three dimensional logo of Genesis, the screen support folded back on itself, so I stripped my coveralls off, and put on the cleanest and neatest set of clothing I had seen in ten years. Pushed the gun into its holster, and slung the blue bag across one shoulder.
In for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying goes, and with no regrets but a ton of unanswered questions fighting for time in my slightly befuddled Mind, I walked back to the airtrain terminus, to find one waiting for me, completely empty, and started the lonely journey back to my shuttle.
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