Prime
Time
by Vicky Burkholder
ISBN:
9781419908187
(this link opens a new browser window)
REVIEWS
CHAPTER ONE
Deena studied the newest crop of lunar tourists and transports milling around the huge domed reception area as her partner began his spiel for the tourists. On the far side of the shuttles, she caught a quick glimpse of Security leading out a sorry-looking group in binding collars.
One of the prisoners broke from the line and dashed for the shuttle. He never had a chance. The guards triggered his collar and took him down before he got ten steps. Deena winced as they dragged the unconscious man to a cart and dumped him. The guards weren’t usually so openly harsh but lately they’d been getting worse. She hoped for the prisoner’s sake he never woke up. He’d be much better off. The guard in line saw her staring, glared at her and she turned away. New transports were no concern of hers. She was here to do a job and forget whatever she might see. She could do nothing for them. Nothing.
She relaxed clenched jaw muscles and surveyed the tourist group again. Not a single one of them saw the tableau. The guards were too careful to allow anyone who counted to see. And Porter scum like her didn’t count.
The tourists were the usual mix of bored society families with more credit than they knew what to do with, a couple of “win a weekend on the moon” types and a smattering of techs and school groups. Most of them gawked out the clear bubble covering the main lunar hangar. Deena searched the crowd for the new resident she needed to meet.
As one of the best survival instructors on Luna, she netted the job of training him but none of this flashy group looked like a potential Lunie. She half listened to Danny as she milled through the group. Taller and slimmer than most of them, she slipped easily through the crowd.
“Welcome to Lunar Base,” Danny began. “You are in Habitat-One. This section of the Lunar development is twenty-five years old and consists of four separate enclosed habitats around this one, all of which are connected by a series of transportation tubes and covers an area of approximately two square miles.”
Deena passed a woman who reeked of expensive perfume, making her eyes water, and she resorted to shallow mouth breathing. The woman’s g-suit hung open, showing off a gaudy top that would have done better as an emergency beacon than a piece of clothing. Deena counted at least ten necklaces around her thick neck and she wondered if the woman paid an extra fee for the mass. She quickly moved away from the offensive smell and sight.
“I don’t see why you people can’t do something for the landscape,” the advertisement for bad taste said. “It’s positively bleak out there. There’s no color. You need some kind of plants or gardens.”
Deena gazed out at the stark gray vista surrounding the habitat. She couldn’t imagine any sight more beautiful. Earth was in full view, shining against the velvety blackness of space. Could the woman honestly be so stupid? What kind of plants did she think would grow on a lifeless, airless moon? Deena bit back a grin when Danny offered to pass the woman’s suggestion along to maintenance.
A school class, all wearing yellow day trip education badges, milled around the outer edges of the group. She doubted if her man would be in with them. Danny continued with his speech as she moved through the crowd, checking for the red badge designating permanent status.
“What you see here is the first of twenty levels built on a descending slope. A spiral ramp curls around a central ventilation shaft starting at this floor and continuing to the bottom allowing access to all levels. On either side of the ramp are the dwellings and businesses. Although there are access tubes at all levels, the main tubes are on the tenth level, dividing the habitats into upper and lower tiers.”
Uppers and Lowers. Danny’s words were so mundane, but the reality was anything but simple. The tiers were more than just levels and everyone in Luna knew so. The richer your holdings, the lower you got to live. The Uppers belonged to the Porters—the working class—while the Techies owned the Lowers. The tenth level divided the two sections geographically but the division was much broader socially.
As a Porter, she lived on the fourth level. The levels higher than her held tourist entertainments and the landing bays.
Danny wound up his speech and she waited for the group to thin out until a single individual remained. She checked her com-link. Jacob Parsons, new cook for the catering areas. She stared at her student. Against instructions, he’d already shed his g-suit and she bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud.
Tall and muscular, he wore bright blue shorts and a flowing white shirt with full, billowy sleeves in the latest Earth fashion. Striped hair dyed to match his togs hung to his shoulders and he wore more makeup than a six-credit streetwalker. She hadn’t seen such a gaudy outfit since the last Harlequin ball. He was easily one of the prettiest men she had ever seen. She glanced at her own regulation gray shorts and T-shirt. The drab suit wasn’t much for style, but it was comfortable, practical and didn’t need much in the way of energy to keep clean.
“You’re Jacob Parsons?”
He tilted his head in a slight bow. “I am. Please call me Jake.”
His voice came out in a nasal twang that would put a six-year-old tantrum thrower to shame. Deena couldn’t help herself. She laughed until tears ran. Even the Earther tourists, as bad as they were, didn’t look this bad. Whoever sent her the newbie must be having a good laugh.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
The hurt look on his face cut her laughter. Normally, she wasn’t a cruel person, especially at someone else’s expense, but this guy defied description. “I’m sorry, but are you trying to get yourself spaced or are you fishing for cribbers? The pimps will love you.”
He examined his outfit, which wasn’t significantly different from what the other visitors wore. “I was told this is the latest style for Luna.”
“By whom? Some Earther who’s never been beyond the stratosphere?” Deena fingered his shoulder-length hair. “Lesson One is nobody up here wears their hair more than an inch long. Nor do we wear anything other than e-z-clean fabrics. The material in your suit would never hold up to multiple sonic cleansings and water’s too expensive.”
“Expensive? But I thought water and air were part of the package.”
“Up to a certain point. Both are strictly regulated. Air is a standard charge but water is variable. It’s regulated at your digs and when you’re out, you use your credit chit to get more. If you go over your water allotment, you pay—big time.”
He shrugged. Deena pursed her lips at his cavalier attitude. Most Newbies were credit cautious. She let it go. His first payday would teach him more than her words could. “Why did you remove your g-suit?”
“It was wrinkling my shirt. You’re not wearing one.”
“Mine is available in an emergency.” She pointed at the backpack she carried. It was empty but she couldn’t very well tell him Porters weren’t granted the luxury of a suit. Guide posting was no place for politics. She needed the job.
“You’re not in the safe part of the habitat yet. That clear dome surrounding you is all that stands between you and the vacuum of space. Although accidents are rare, they do happen. On Earth, if your roof springs a leak, you might get a little wet. Here, a little leak can kill you.”
“So what now?”
She checked her pad and frowned. Odd. The data didn’t give him an address. She couldn’t very well take him to his place until she knew where it was and she wasn’t about to walk around the Uppers with him in tow. Every vulture in the habitat would be after them. New meat meant new credits and the newer the meat, the more they could scam him. Even with her as an escort, they’d be lucky to get past the third level unscathed. She tapped in the code for housing.
“Housing.”
“Instructor Deena here. I’ve got a new free resident but no digs for him. Name is Jake Parsons, assigned to catering. Where do you want him?”
“He doesn’t show up on our lists. You’ll have to check with Security.”
“Damn.” Deena glanced up as a klaxon sounded through the dome. “We’ve got to leave. There’s another shuttle coming in. We’ll stop at my place first. You can wash up there while I find out where your digs are. Let’s go, Pretty Boy, and pray we don’t run into any vultures.” She led the way out.
Luckily, at this time in mid-afternoon the ramps were relatively deserted. Deena hurried Jake to her small apartment. Once they were inside, she palmed the security locks on the door, something she didn’t normally do, and checked her exterior viewers. Several pimps hung in the shadows around the quad. From their stances, she knew they were waiting for her to emerge with the new meat. She glanced at Jake, catching the puzzled frown on his face.
“I don’t understand what you’re so worried about. I’m sure we’re safe. If there’s trouble, we call Security.”
She turned to him. He stood by the table in one corner of her great-room. He came close to taking up more space than her furniture but something about him puzzled her. She couldn’t quite figure him out, but she would.
“Man, you really don’t have a clue, do you? No wonder they sent you to me. The only reason you got this far is because we surprised the pimps. I don’t bring anyone to my place. It’s not something I do. They’re the types who don’t care who you grunt for. Those clothes mark you as new meat and that’s all they need to know.”
“What do you suggest?”
Deena studied him, taking his measurements by eye. He was a few centimeters taller than she was but broader in the shoulders and hips. She strode into her bedroom and pulled a dark standard-issue jumpsuit from her closet. It was an extra large one she’d picked up by mistake and planned to turn in for replacement. She returned to her outer room and held the suit out to him. “Here, put this on.”
Jake stared at the suit before taking the material between two fingers and looking around for a place to change.
Deena nodded toward her small bedroom. “You can change in there. Then we’ll take care of the hair.” She picked up a worker’s cap. “Maybe you can twist the mess up under this for now?” She glimpsed the disdain on his face and lost her mild-mannered temper.
“Look, Newbie, I don’t know what you did to get sent here and I don’t care. For some reason, the catering honchos want you and it’s my job to make sure you survive at least the first day. That’s a new-issue hat I haven’t even worn yet. It’s costing me a week’s worth of credits to give you this stuff. The least you could do is be a little more appreciative.”
She stormed back to her bedroom before she could say anything more. Let him change in the outer room. As far as she was concerned, he could change in the middle of the quad and she wouldn’t care. Just getting him to her place unscathed earned the credits already deposited to her account. In her opinion anything else went above and beyond duty.
A few minutes later a tap sounded on her door. “What?” she yelled, not quite over being mad.
“I’m sorry. I really would appreciate any help you can give me.”
At least he sounded sincere. She opened the door and stared in amazement. The fancy clothes hung neatly over the back of a chair along with a mass of flowing hair. A wig? He’d been wearing a wig? She swallowed her chuckle, not ready to let him off the hook yet.
Her new hat perched on top of a short crop of dark hair. All traces of makeup were gone from his face and she noticed signs of age she hadn’t seen before. She glanced at the tiny sink in her kitchen area and saw a couple of drops of water, but nothing to indicate waste. She hated spending her water rations on something as mundane as washing off makeup.
He wasn’t an old man, but he wasn’t as young as she first assumed either. If anything, he looked better than before, and that was, in her estimation, pretty darn good. Deena noticed something else too. The man was pale. Space pale. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost mistake him for a Lunie, but that wasn’t possible since he’d just gotten off the transport. The only Lunies who left the moon were techs and he wasn’t one of them. Other Techies met those, not Porter scum like her.
Without saying a word, she circled him, adjusting a belt here and a strap there. “Call me Dee or Deena. Nobody goes by last names here in the Uppers.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We’ve got to get you to Security for your IDs and other red tape and find out where your digs are. Security is in Habitat-Two, as are new transport living quarters. The shuttle tubes connecting the habitats are six levels below. Time for your second lesson. There are five habitats on Luna and each one has twenty levels. The richer you are, the lower you live. Until you’ve been here a few months, don’t go wandering around the Uppers without a veteran and don’t go into the Lowers without an invite. And Hab-Four is off limits. That’s where the worst of the transports live.”
“Transports?”
“Supposedly, the dregs of Earth society, sent here to do the grunt work. Some bigwig’s idea to ease the prison population Earthside and give Luna cheap labor. There were two types sent here in the beginning, the transports and the Techies. Techies are the scientists, technicians and administrators. They’re the power here. Get in their good graces and you’re set.”
“You sound like you don’t have much respect for them.”
Deena shrugged. “My parents were mistaken ports. Techies don’t have much use for us unless they need a grunt or guinea pig. Since you’re not a Techie, everyone will assume you’re a Porter. Very few people come here to live on purpose. Once you’re settled in, we’ll set up a schedule so I can teach you what you need to know.” While she talked, Dee packed a small carry-all. “Let’s go.”
Jake headed for the door.
“Not that way.” Dee stopped him. “The pimps will swarm us before we’ve gone two meters. You’re new meat and not bad looking. Everyone will be after you. Can you keep a secret?”
Jake frowned at her. “Yes. Why?”
“Follow me.” She entered her tiny washroom and keyed in a code on the shower control. A slight hiss and the floor of the shower slid back into the wall. A gust of warm, dry air blew up from the hole.
“What’s that?” Jake asked.
“A safety valve. This is an air duct. The habitats are ringed with them. We’ll take this out of the quad then hit the ramp. One thing, nobody else knows about this, and nobody will—understand?” She waited until Jake nodded his agreement.
Deena dropped lightly into the duct. “The space is high enough to stand in, but barely.” She watched as he jumped into the hole. He flexed at the joints and landed softly. She gave him a point for finesse. “There are braces on the bottom panels—like rails. Use them when you can. Although the spaces will hold you, there are soft areas. Follow my lead and you’ll be okay.”
She pushed the floor back into place, plunging them into darkness. “Come on.” She turned and led the way down the tunnel.
“Uh, Dee?”
Jake’s voice, several meters back, halted her. “What?”
“Where are you?”
“Oops. Sorry.” Deena pulled out a small flashlight and walked the light back to him.
“I’m guessing you have enhanced vision?” Jake asked.
“Yeah. Like a cat, I can see in almost total darkness. I also have extra-sensitive hearing.” Deena turned away from him. She didn’t like talking about her mutations any more than any other Prime did. Then his words dawned on her. He asked about a specific mutation, not how she could see. Another anomaly. Something about this man did not add up. Who was he? The answers lay at Security. The sooner she got him there, the sooner she’d know what was going on. “We need to be quiet until we get to our exit.”
A few minutes later she stopped in front of a large vent and peered through the slits, making certain the way was clear before popping the grille. They jumped out into a small alcove between two buildings.
“Where are we?” Jake asked.
“One level above the tubes. We’ll take the ramp from here. If we run into anyone, keep mum and let me do the talking. Your speech is too good to be a homebred Lunie. You’ll be marked as new meat and fair game.” She led the way out, slipping onto the pedestrian belts with accustomed ease. Jake followed more slowly, but smoothly.
They neared the tubes and Dee was beginning to breathe easier when trouble reared its ugly head.
“Deena! Long time no see!”
Deena’s hopes sank. She’d know that whiny voice anywhere. The troll coming toward them was one of the biggest pimps in the habitat—a vulture of vultures. “Lucky! Fancy meeting you here. I thought you got shipped downside.”
The shorter man shrugged his shoulders, causing his neck to disappear into folds of fat. “A slight misunderstanding. The local constabulary has no grasp of the services I provide.” He danced around Deena, trying to get to Jake. “When are you going to join my crib? One month and your problems would be solved.”
“Yeah, ’cause you’d be dead. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m busy.”
“What about your friend there? He’s not bad looking.”
“He’s not interested. Goodbye, Lucky.”
Lucky feinted left and then sidestepped right and got past her. Even though he was a fat slob, he moved like a snake. “Why not let him speak for himself. Hi! I’m Lucky and this is your lucky day.” He giggled, a high-pitched whine that grated on Deena’s nerves. “Get it? Your ‘lucky’ day?”
“Yeah, I got it. Now buzz off. We’re busy.”
Deena did a double take on Jake. The low, gruff voice couldn’t be coming from the same throat as the high-browed twang she heard earlier. Pretty Boy had more going for him than she first thought.
“Well, maybe next time.” Lucky scrutinized Jake as he backed off. “Deena, my offer still stands.”
Deena held up her middle finger in an unmistakable sign of her answer.
They reached the shuttle tubes with no further incidents and found an empty seat in a single car. Four other passengers climbed in after them.
“I thought the tubes would be busier,” Jake said as he settled on one of the hard plastic seats.
“Not this time of day. In about an hour, there won’t be single cars, just multiples with no seats and they’ll be packed. Hang on.” Deena grabbed the armrest as the car took off with a jerk.
A minute later, the car screeched to a stop.
“Stars.” Deena swore under her breath as the four other passengers converged on them. “Jake,” she whispered, “I hope you know hand-to-hand.” He nodded. His lack of concern bothered her but she couldn’t worry about that now.
“Hand your credit chits over,” the biggest one demanded.
The man’s size and shape puzzled Deena. He was bumpy and his head and neck didn’t match his bulk. She didn’t know what he wore under his clothes, but she was sure she wouldn’t like it. Her heart beat faster. Alone, she could probably get away with a few bruises but she had Jake to think about. The attack itself was odd. Porters didn’t mug other Porters. Then she studied them. They didn’t look like normal Porters. Who were these thugs?
“Shove off, Earther,” Deena sneered. The epithet would be lost on anyone but a Lunie.
He pulled her out of her seat. “Either give us your credits, or we take them out of your hide.”
“Try.” Deena chose her moment and kicked the man in the stomach, doubling him over and then chopping down on the back of his neck. He collapsed to the floor. She turned to face a second attacker. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the third man down and Jake busy with the fourth. Deena’s new nemesis was skilled, but no more than she. His size in the close quarters was a disadvantage and Deena used it against him. She was also more flexible than he appeared to be. A few minutes later, he too was out and she turned to help Jake, but he didn’t need any. She pulled her belt off and bent to twist the length around her attacker’s arms.
“Don’t.” Jake stopped her. He pushed a button and restarted the car.
“Why not? These scum don’t deserve consideration.” She wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. “They should be spaced.” She noticed he wasn’t even breathing hard and his voice changed to somewhere between the nasal twang and the gruff, guttural one he’d used with Lucky. The new tone was a definite improvement over both.
Something wasn’t right here but she wasn’t sure what. Then the realization dawned on her. Jake, a new transport up from Earth, knew exactly how to restart the car. He hadn’t searched for which button to push but went directly to the right one. Every sense she possessed said things weren’t as they seemed. She slid into a rear seat so she could keep an eye on everything and everyone. She fingered the knife hidden in her hip pocket. She didn’t like to use a blade but would if necessary. Her ribs hurt where the thug had gotten in a good punch and she was sure she’d have a shiner by morning. But her hurts were minor compared to the questions circling her brain.
A minute later, the car slid to a stop and Jake opened the door. A middle-aged woman stood there with a man who looked identical to Jake.
Deena stared around, not recognizing the platform. “Where are we? This doesn’t look like Hab-Two.”
“It is, and it’s not,” Jake said as he handed her out. “This is Hab-Two, but a private stop for Security.”
“How’d she do?” the woman asked, glancing inside.
“I’m impressed. She knows her stuff.” Jake said. “Sean, you might want to make sure the others are all right. Mike and Tom took the worst beating.” Jake’s double disappeared into the vehicle.
Deena glanced from one to the other. “What’s going on?”
“Deena, I’d like you to meet Janacea, the head of Special Forces, a rather unknown branch of Security.” Jake introduced them. “The man leading out that sorry bunch is my brother Sean Parsons. And, even worse, we’re Primes.”
“Primes? I don’t understand.”
“I’m in charge of recruitment for Special Forces. We’ve heard good things about you and thought we’d see for ourselves. You know your stuff. How’d you like to join us?”
Deena’s head spun. She watched as Sean helped her two “attackers” out of the car. The big one grinned at her as he stripped off a padded suit. That’s what looked and felt so strange to her. He wore padding. The second man saluted her with one hand as he held a cold pack to the back of his head with the other.
“This was all a test? You’re not an Earther? Those men are from Security?” Deena wasn’t sure whether to be angry at the lies or ecstatic at the hope of a possible job. She stopped herself from licking dry lips. She’d been trying to get into Security for years. A job with them meant regular pay, better digs and a step down in the Uppers.
“True. Like you, we were born here. Sean, Jan and I are Techies. That’s probably why we’ve never met. I’m sorry to have deceived you, but we figured this was the best way to see you in action.”
“Do I get to keep the credits for instructing you?” After all, credits were credits.
Jake chuckled. “Yes. So will you join us?”
Deena blushed as she remembered her earlier words about Techies. She tilted her head as if considering. This was either a dream come true, or the bubble had burst and she was dead. Whichever, it was an improvement over her current life.
“Well, if you can put up with a Porter, I guess I can adjust to working with Techies. Where do I sign, Pretty Boy?”
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