The Human Edge V

V

Antonio loaded the ceramic firearm and tucked it under his jacket.  Klaus sucked in a deep breath and swore.

“Thought you were a motherfucking diplomat.”

“I was.  Past tense.  But that doesn’t mean I know how to use this very well, so let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Antonio said the words, but didn’t believe an inch of them.  Klaus wasn’t buying them, either.

“Alright, well.  Bullets fly, I fly away.  You get it?”

“That’s fine.  I’m not asking you to stay.”

“Alright.  Good.  Well, let’s get this shitshow over with.”

The two of them moved out into the hallway, which thrummed with the power of a ship in flight.  Antonio felt the nausea climbing up into his throat, and whether it was from the weak dampeners or from what he was about to do, he didn’t know.

For a while, the two men didn’t see anyone in the hallways.  Klaus seemed to know the layout of the ship reasonably well, so he took a kind of sneaking lead.  Antonio had no doubt that the Nomad would run if things got ugly, but a part of him wondered why he was offering his help in the first place.

Gradually, though, they encountered crew members working on the panels or taking readings.  The crew paid them little notice, but Antonio guessed that they would be a lot more attentive if he and Klaus stepped off the beaten path.  As it stood, they could have been going to their bunks, or to the baggage containers, or even to the common room.

“S’there.” Klaus pointed down a hallway that was, almost mercifully, empty.  “The crypt.  But how the fuck are you going to get into it?”

“I have an idea or two.” Antonio walked up to the large door.  It was designed to resemble an airlock, and it probably protected the data in the vault by creating a broadcast-proof band that would never be broken as long as one door remained shut.  He’d seen similar crypts before, mostly when dealing with sensitive diplomatic information.  But seeing and knowing are two different things, and Antonio had no idea how to ensure that his data was safe.

“Yeah, well.  Love to see it, before one of the sailors comes on down and hauls our asses out.” Klaus looked around nervously.  The cold, sterile light made it impossible to hide.

Antonio turned away from the door and took a few steps down the hallway.  He lifted a hand (his other one clutching the little black box in his pocket, almost for luck) and tapped a screen.

“Locate first mate Petyn for me, please.  I need a word with her.”

“Oh, shit.” Klaus moaned, but he didn’t budge.  Apparently he was willing to see this through.  If this brought Francesca back, Antonio realized, he would owe the man no small debt.  If this brought Francesca back, he would be happy to pay it, whatever it was.

“First mate Petyn is located on deck fourteen, section C,” said a pleasant female voice from the panel.

“Where is that?” Antonio turned to Klaus.

“Pretty close to here.” The Nomad man laughed, nervously.

“Right here, actually.” Antonio heard a familiar female voice behind him.  It was strong, brusque, and very no-nonsense.

“First mate Petyn.” He said, without turning.  “I need to make a deposit.”

“I don’t think you paid enough, Tony.  Not enough for the crypt.  I think you might have just reached the ‘don’t get thrown into space’ total, but I might be wrong.”

Antonio whirled to look at Petyn.  Her arms were folded over her chest, just above a bit of webbing that cradled a large and intimidating gun.  She wore a generic coverall, otherwise.

“Look, Petyn, I just need to get into this vault.  I just need to make a deposit.  No withdrawal, no logging on, no nothing.  Klaus here will check to see if everything is in order, and...”

“I don’t think you understand.” Petyn cut him off with a wave of her hand.  “You seem new to this, so I’ll give you a quick rundown.  There’s someone bidding against you.  They don’t want your data getting into the crypt.  But hey, you seemed nice enough, desperate even, so I didn’t pitch you out the airlock as was suggested.  That doesn’t mean, though, that I’m letting you get into the crypt.  Whatever data you’ve got, it stays on your person.”

 “You don’t understand...”

“Maybe not.” Petyn wasn’t about to be swayed, not easily.  “But I don’t see that mattering too much.  Now you’re lucky I don’t call in some marines.  Tony, I’m telling you to back off.  This isn’t worth your life.”

Before she knew it – even before Antonio himself knew it – the ceramic pistol was in his hand, levelled at the first mate.  The hand itself shook, but at this range, that wouldn’t matter too much.  Petyn looked surprised.

“You’re really willing to die over this, Tony?  Really?  Cause if you shoot me, I guarantee you’ll be swimming in space before you can say momma.”

Antonio’s hands shook.  Sweat beaded on his neck, on his forehead.  The gun in his hand felt like an alien device, promising only death.  Pulling the trigger would be like killing himself.  But not pulling the trigger would be like killing Francesca, and he couldn’t bear to have that happen twice.

“Yes.  Throw me from an airlock, subject me to a firing squad, tear out my cube.  Do all these things, but please, please, let me make this deposit.  As a human being, I ask you this.  Only this.”

Petyn raised an eyebrow, making no move for her own gun.  She looked at the trembling diplomat, so incredibly out of his depth.  She looked at the cowering scientist, only slightly more suited to be out here.  Both of them couldn’t take her, not on their own, and there was even a big chance that the diplomat’s gun might miss.

But not a perfect chance.

“Fine.  Get your ass in there, deposit your shit.  But you’re at the mercy of the other bidder after that, and I won’t lift a finger to help you.  Just so you know that.”

Antonio struggled to control himself, to hide his tears.

“Come on, Klaus.”

“Right behind you.”

And then,

“Mind if I hold the gun?  You might be ok with dying, but I sure as shit ain’t.”