Cyber Dreams 3.10 - Salvage (Patreon)
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“Can you tell me more about Ghoul? Why do you think she came to mind when I asked you about your feelings of distrust and nervousness and why you haven’t formed close relationships with others?” The virtual psychologist, Dr. Ming, occupied a window in Juliet’s AUI, much like a video call. Juliet thought whoever had designed him had done a great job; he looked very lifelike, with mannerisms that she found almost instantly endearing. He drank tea, winced when he took a sip if it was too hot, wore a plaid shirt under a rough sweater, and just seemed very . . . nice.
Juliet had made Angel promise not to eavesdrop on her meetings with Dr. Ming. She’d insisted on the PAI turning on her privacy mode, just like she did when she wanted some alone time, something she’d been doing more and more as she found Angel to be more of a person than a PAI. As much as she liked Angel, she didn’t enjoy the idea of her watching, wondering about, or judging her every move, especially when she was doing things people generally liked to do alone. That said, Angel had been quick to agree to avoid the VR counseling sessions—anything to get Juliet to attend this first one.
“Ghoul—Cassie—was someone I just sort of clicked with. I liked her because she kind of fit into the gaps in my own personality. She’s tough, brash, experienced, and, well, she looked out for me. I mean, I thought she did. I trusted her a lot; we went through some tough things together, and when I learned some of our relationship was based on a lie . . .” Juliet paused, searching for the right words. Dr. Ming patiently waited, pushing his old-fashioned horn-rimmed glasses up on his nose. “I mean, I didn’t really care! I wanted to tell Cassie that. I wanted to hug her and say I understood. She didn’t give me the chance, though; I think she wanted to punish herself because she knew I wouldn’t.”
“It's important to acknowledge that your thoughts and feelings are valid, but it's also important to challenge any thoughts that may be contributing to your distress. One way to challenge this thought might be to focus on the evidence for and against it. For example, while it's true that Cassie left you, it's also true that you were able to develop a close and meaningful relationship with her. It's also possible that there are people in your life who care about you and are willing to support you, even in the face of adversity. It's important to remember that relationships can be complex and that people make mistakes. While it's possible that others may hurt you, it's also possible that they may bring joy, comfort, and stability to your life.”
“Yeah, I know that. I mean, I feel close to Honey, the friend I told you about who’s in trouble, the one I’m trying to rescue.”
“It's important to remember that while it's natural to want to rescue your friend, it's also important to prioritize your own safety and well-being. It can be helpful to develop a plan for the rescue that takes into account any potential risks or dangers. In addition, it might be helpful to focus on developing coping strategies to manage the stress and anxiety related to the situation. This might include techniques such as deep breathing, progressive muscle relaxation, or mindfulness exercises. In our next session, we can continue to explore strategies for managing stress and anxiety related to the situation with Honey. Remember that you don't have to go through this alone and that resources and support are available to you.”
“Oh,” Juliet said, glancing at the clock on her AUI. “Is our session over?”
“Yes, we’ve completed your first one-hour session. You have purchased ten sessions—would you like to continue into another session now? I think you’d benefit from some time to think about what we’ve discussed today; my recommendation would be to wait at least three days before conducting your next session.”
“Right. Okay, thanks, Dr. Ming.”
“You’re quite welcome. I look forward to seeing you again soon, Lucky.”
Juliet closed Ming’s window and then toggled off Angel’s privacy mode. With simulated breathless excitement, the PAI instantly asked her, “How was it?”
“It was all right, I guess. I spent most of the hour telling the doctor about a lot of the stuff I’ve been through. I guess it was good to pin down some of the things that are bothering me, the things I’ve been sort of bottling up. I guess we’re going to discuss some coping strategies next time.”
“That’s wonderful, Juliet!”
“Attention, crew.” To Juliet’s relief, Alice’s voice cut into Juliet’s introspective discussion with Angel, “We’re dropping down to one G of acceleration for the next few days. If you’re still in your acceleration couch, feel free to get up and move around when the pressure lets up.”
“Thank the lord!” Juliet sighed; she’d had to pee terribly for the last few hours. Bennet had told her it would be fine to go to the bathroom but had acted like two Gs of acceleration wasn’t a big deal; he said he moved around quite a lot under that kind of load. Juliet had thought about it, remembered the initial force of the shuttle taking off from Earth, and figured she’d be all right to do the same. It turned out that twelve hours under two Gs was a lot different than a few minutes.
The acceleration couch, her bed, made it almost effortless, cupping her in its soft gel that supported and massaged her, ensuring good circulation. If she were honest, it felt wonderful, and Juliet had slept soundly for the first seven hours of the ship’s flight. When she’d woken, feeling the urge to go to the bathroom, she’d tried to get up and walk out of her room and had given up, unable to imagine trying to use a toilet under that strain.
“Maybe when I get some more experience,” she said, sighing with relief as the ship gradually slowed to one G, and she felt the pull at the center of her belly dissipate. She clambered out of her bed, laughing at how the gel cupping her arms and legs squelched as she pulled her limbs free. “Excuse me.” Still laughing softly, she tugged on her black cargo pants—she’d slept in her underwear and a navy blue tank top. “Angel, is there a rule about walking around barefoot on a ship like this?”
“Nothing officially posted, though the sat-net message boards and social channels are full of anecdotes that indicate it’s not a smart move. One man lost three toes when the autopilot evaded a micro meteor shower, and he was flung into a doorway. His toes caught on the latch mechanism and were pulled off in a rather spectacular shower of blood . . .”
“Yikes, Angel. Enough details; I get it.” Juliet shook her head, grunting as she pulled on her boots and laced them up. “They actually posted a video?”
“Yes, would you like to see it?”
“No!”
Juliet walked down the dim corridor toward the showers. One of the amber-toned lights flickered, and she wondered if it was an electrical issue or if the LED bulb needed replacing. She passed by another empty crew quarters, then Bennet’s room; he’d pointed it out on the way to showing Juliet hers. After that, she was standing before the crew washrooms. The one on the left was spray painted with a black, stenciled bolt, and the one on the right with a nut, but Bennet said the crew just used “whatever.” Juliet figured she’d go to the right.
There were three toilet stalls and an open shower area just past the sinks and mirrors in the dimly lit, faintly moist-feeling room that reminded Juliet of a locker room at a very low-budget gym. Still, it was clean, and a faint hint of bleach hung in the air, so she took advantage of the low occupancy and stood in the hot shower for a while. She’d grown used to taking showers over the last few months, and she was glad to see the ship didn’t employ sani-spray.
“Do they just recycle the water? I’d think they’d have a tight leash on water usage on a ship like this,” Juliet asked as she pushed the dispense button again; it automatically shut off after three minutes.
“I don’t know for certain, but it’s likely that these drains lead directly into the gray water filtration system. As a salvage vessel with a good-sized cargo hold, the Kaminari Kowashi can carry many thousands of gallons of water in its reservoir, and it’s outfitted for a crew three times this size.”
“Well, no one gave me a lecture about not showering too often, so . . .” Juliet let the thought drop as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair, wincing at a twinge of pain in her right shoulder. While she held her face under the shower nozzle, she rubbed at the tight muscles that ran from the back side of her shoulder down into her arm, where her modified tendons met up with the plasteel attachment.
“Is your arm bothering you?”
“Ugh, Angel. Should I make it a general policy that you go into privacy mode when I’m in the shower?”
“I’d prefer you didn’t . . .”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just being bitchy. Yes, my arm hurts. It’s always stiff when I first wake up, though.”
“I believe that will be remedied when Dr. Ladia conducts the surgery you consulted with her about.”
“Yeah. I hope so.” Juliet sighed, then stepped out of the shower and started to towel off. She’d found the towel folded on a metallic shelving unit at the entrance to the bathroom. There were six hooks off to her left, next to the sinks, and two of them were occupied, one with a pale blue, white-flowered towel and the other with a red, frayed one. Juliet chose a hook, two removed from the others, and hung up her plain white towel.
“Lucky,” Alice’s voice, coming from an overhead speaker, announced, startling Juliet as she looked at herself in one of the mirrors, “Bennet’s on breakfast duty, and we’re gathering in the mess. I’ll do a mission briefing before we break up for transit tasks.”
“Roger,” Juliet said into team coms. “Why do you think she doesn’t message me through comms? Why does she use the PA?”
“I don’t know. You should ask her.”
“Thanks,” Juliet quipped, then hurriedly brushed her teeth and finished dressing. With her damp hair pulled back in a ponytail and still wearing her tank top, black pants, and work boots, she followed Angel’s directions to the crew mess hall on the same level as their quarters. When she stepped into the brightly lit, if somewhat cramped, kitchen and dining area, she saw the crew, other than Bennet, sitting at a bolted-down picnic-style table with long metal benches.
“Hey, Lucky!” Shiro called when he saw her standing in the doorway. “Glad you survived the burn—even had time to shower, huh?”
“Come on,” Bennet called from a steaming cooktop counter beyond the table. “Huevos rancheros, minus the huevos—I had to use powdered egg protein substitute, but I made it into something that resembles a scramble.”
“He’s a decent cook,” Alice said, turning over her shoulder and patting the bench next to her. Juliet smiled and hurried over to the table, pleased at the warm reception. Aya was sitting next to Shiro and staring at a readout on a sturdy-looking data pad. She wore a frown of concentration, and Juliet didn’t think she’d heard a word the others had said, so she didn’t take offense at her lack of greeting.
“Smells good, anyway,” Juliet said as she sat beside Alice and across from Aya. “Does Bennet do all the cooking around here?”
“Hah!” Bennet barked from the stove.
“Oh, no,” Alice chuckled, “We all take turns, but let’s just say there are fewer leftovers when it’s Bennet’s turn.”
“Hey, Lucky,” Bennet said as he stirred his steaming skillet, “Sorry, I didn’t have time to show you around the rest of the ship before we took off. I didn’t know the captain was going to take you on a field trip. He said you beat up some thugs, huh?”
“Oh, not really,” Juliet felt some heat in her cheeks and hoped she wasn’t blushing, which, of course, made it worse. She tried to cover by standing up and walking over to pour a cup of coffee for herself. When she’d walked into the mess, she’d felt a warm, cozy glow in her chest at the sight of the actual drip coffee machine and not some simulated squirt dispenser of hot brown liquid. “I mostly just threatened them.”
Shiro laughed, shaking his head, “I almost started laughing when she burst through the door and kicked this big guy in the butt—he went head-first into a water dispenser, and the damn machine started scolding him. It was pretty funny.”
“Seriously?” Bennet laughed. “I can hear that thing’s voice now, ‘Please don’t steal my goods! Corpo-sec is on the way!’” he performed a halting robotic voice, and everyone joined in with his laughter.
“Anyway,” Alice said, speaking over Shiro’s chuckles, “Glad we got our salvage pay squared and got en route. Speaking of which, are you guys ready to hear about the intel I scooped?”
“Yeah!” Bennet said, then added, “Aya, can you pass out plates?”
Aya looked up from her deck, her eyes a little bleary, and looked around as though she’d forgotten where she was. “Oh, hey, Lucky. Captain says you can help me with some maintenance on the welding rigs. The torches need cleaning; some need new tips.”
“Yeah, sure.” Juliet shrugged, glancing toward Shiro at Aya’s mention of “Captain.” Aya nodded and stood, going to one of the latched cabinets above the counter to take out a stack of plastic plates.
As she passed them out, dropping each with a clatter before the seated crew and leaving an extra for Bennet to Juliet’s right, she said, “I was surprised they hired someone so fast—figured they were cutting some corners to get off-world faster.” She smiled at Juliet, her bright yellow eyes exuding amusement, then added, “I was pretty damn shocked when Shiro told me about your welding experience. Looks like we’ll get through whatever job Alice has cooked up a lot faster.”
“Hey, we hired her for security, and I think we’re probably going to need it. At least at first.” Alice paused while Bennet came around with his skillet, scooping a generous pile of mash that, she supposed, could loosely be described as huevos rancheros—she saw potatoes, egg . . . stuff, chopped peppers, and some kind of diced protein. She supposed the warm tortillas and salsa he set in the center of the table completed the picture well enough.
“Go on,” Bennet said, nodding toward Alice as he sat down.
“Right,” Alice chewed and swallowed. “So, I got a tip from Frankie. You remember Frankie? My girlfriend from before I met Shiro?”
“Uh,” Bennet scratched his head.
“The muscley blonde with all the freckles?” Aya said, filling the gap.
“That’s right!” Bennet snapped his fingers, then stuffed a forkful of food into a tortilla. “Pass me that salsa, would you, Lucky?”
“Yep,” Juliet slid it toward him, then began to dig into her own food as Alice continued. She glanced at Shiro and saw he wore a pleasant smile, apparently unbothered by Alice’s talk of her ex.
“Anyway, Frankie heard from her friend who flies security for Goliath Gas,” she paused, looking around the table to see if anyone knew the name.
“What do they do?” Juliet asked, unafraid to admit her ignorance.
“They run refineries through Saturn’s upper atmosphere. Gas harvesters, you know, ram scoops. Anyway, Frankie’s friend was flying security when one of those big, gas-bellied behemoths got attacked by pirates. She said her friend and his wingman smoked the baddies, and most of their ships were lost in Saturn’s gravity well, but one of ‘em limped away. The company ordered the escorts to pull back, but Frankie’s friend got off a last missile—he swore to her that he saw the ship go down on Dione.
“He ‘saw’ it?” Bennet asked an eyebrow raised skeptically.
“Well, more like his PAI projected that’s where it would go down.” Alice shrugged.
“So, this seems like kind of an expensive trip for a lot of possible what-ifs,” Bennet pressed.
“Hey,” Shiro cut in. “How many times have you had first bite of a downed gunship? I’m not talking a little interceptor here. Not some bug of a ship slagged on impact. Alice’s friend says it was a Hector model! You know what that is? Takamoto tech, gas-brain! Made during the war.” That got Bennet to close his mouth, at least for a minute, while he chewed. Aya’s face was impassive, but her eyes were distant, and Juliet had the impression she was daydreaming about the mysterious downed ship.
“Gas brain?” Juliet chuckled.
“He thinks I somehow consume some of the h-3 . . .”
“How else you explain our budget for fuel always going up?” Shiro’s face reddened as his voice rose.
“Old drives, boss! C’mon, cap!” Bennet laughed, taking another bite.
“Well, what do you think?” Alice cut in. “About the job, I mean.”
Bennet swallowed his food, grunted, and said, “Sounds more and more like a fairy tale, boss.” He shrugged and stood up, carrying his empty plate to the sink. Before Shiro could defend his wife’s intel further, he said, over his shoulder, “Still, who doesn’t like a fairy tale? The best we’ve ever gotten off a wreck was a beat-up reactor, which was only because the first scavs didn’t have the know-how to remove it. If we can really be the first ones to a gunship like that . . .” he let the thought linger while he started washing his plate, a big grin on his face.
“No wonder you wanted to get moving fast,” Aya said, also standing up.
Juliet still had half her food to eat, so she tucked in, trying to wolf it down so she could follow Aya to the cargo hold. As she swallowed a particularly spicy bite, she took a big gulp of her now lukewarm coffee and asked, “Do you think it’s still there? What if the crew survived? Surely they’d call for help.”
“That’s the beauty. Frankie’s friend’s been on duty ever since the encounter—those gas harvesters take a long time to fill up. He hasn’t seen or heard any indication that anyone’s flown anywhere near Dione.”
“Well, let’s hope we aren’t the only ones who’ve heard this little tip. You sure they’re not selling this story all over the system?” Bennet shrugged as he dried his plate.
“They better not! Frankie sold me this info, so if it’s bogus or there are ten other salvage ships already there, she’s going to have hell to pay and her friend by proxy.”
“Hey,” Juliet said, also standing with a now-empty plate. “Speaking of that, how long will it take us to get there? This ship didn’t look . . .” she trailed off, not wanting to insult anyone by saying the big salvage vessel looked slow.
“Fast?” Alice laughed. “It’s going to take us around ten days. We’ll push her a bit harder than we should, and it’ll be an uncomfortable deceleration, but I’m sure we’re ahead of anyone this side of Jupiter. We just need to hope no one from the Jovian moons or Titan gets wind of the wreck.”
“Here’s hoping,” Aya said, then she nudged Juliet and said, “Wanna head down to the cargo bay with me when you’re done there?”
“Yeah, just give me a sec,” Juliet said, smiling as she rinsed her plate. She was excited and couldn’t help it if it showed—they were moving fast toward Honey, and they were on a pretty exciting salvage mission. She’d never really considered that salvage could be exciting, so the whole thing was a nice surprise. She set her plate on the drying rack and said, “Right. Let’s go tune up those welding rigs!”