Martini said. “When the government—”
“When the news reports it. The news can take a starving refugee and make them into an invading migrant. One of my Black ancestors was photographed carrying diapers over his head after a flood. They called him a ‘looter.’ A white man was photographed doing the same thing. They called him a ‘survivor.’ When you came to me for a job, I thought you knew the power of the news. But you let this”—she slammed her hand on the tablet, cracking the screen—“get printed.”
“I didn’t write it,” Martini squeaked, finally registering the anger of her small employer.
“Then you edit it before it goes live. Your job is to control the news, not to write glowing pieces about clones. Do you know what happened after this ran?”
Martini shook her head. Maria gingerly removed the tablet, its screen spider-webbed over the offending headline, and slipped it into her bag.
“They’re not going to allow the clone server on the ship now. It’s humans only. I’ve sunk billions into this project so I could live on another planet, Martini, and you have ruined it with one story.”
“But the sabotaging clones ruined it!” she said. “It wasn’t my fault!”
“I hired you for a job. You didn’t do the job. So here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to get your wish to be cloned at my private facility. But Maria here is going to work on your mindmap to ensure you no longer make these bad decisions.”
Maria went cold. So this is why I’m at this meeting.
Martini shook her head, eyes filling with tears. “No, please, don’t mess with my head, I can do better next time, I’ll get them to retract it, I’ll get them to get the server on the ship!”
“How?” Sallie asked, her eyes narrowed.
She and Martini made a plan; with the threat of mindmap manipulation, Martini was suddenly eager to brainstorm ideas on how to remedy the situation.
Maria signaled for another round of drinks, trying to dull the panic. One waiter attended them, and Maria became aware of the fact that the entire staff in the nearly empty bar had studiously been ignoring them.
Sallie could grease a palm, that was for sure.
Later that night, in the back of the limo as they whisked back to Firetown, Sallie asked Maria why she was so quiet.
“You threatened her. In the most unethical way possible.”
Sallie snorted. “It’s a little late for you to worry about ethics. What have you been doing for the past hundred years?”
“You know my terms. There are lines I won’t cross.”
“I thought we had an understanding by now,” Sallie said coldly.
“I did too,” Maria said.
“We don’t need to do it anyway,” Sallie said. “We got her back on track for us.”
“I am not a scalpel for you to wave around and threaten people with,” Maria said. “I’m going to have to resign my post.”
Sallie watched the city out the window, her face a mask.
“All right. Best of luck to you.”
She didn’t offer more money. She didn’t threaten me. She wouldn’t just let me go like that.
Maria focused on her own window while she wondered what Sallie really was thinking. Her lack of resistance was the scariest thing of all.
She was arrested for illegal hacking two days after ending her work with Sallie.
Decades later, when she was offered a crew spot on the Dormire for good behavior, she figured she was due for a win, and took it.
So Much Blood in Him
Wolfgang and Katrina faced the gardens. Wolfgang remembered looking at the layout of the ship and being impressed at this space, so important to their mental well-being, their water recycling, and maybe even some fresh fruit now and then. For him, it would be a place he wouldn’t want to run and exercise in, considering the gravity and that he was already feeling light-headed.
Now it was just the place where Hiro was hiding.
“Any idea where’s he’s gone, IAN?” he asked the mike on his tablet.
“He’s not on this level anymore,” IAN said. “I lost him in the orchard and but my sensors caught the opening of a hatch on the far side of the lake. He’s gone to a lower deck.”
Wolfgang swore. Hiro knew the lower decks were harder for him to search. The aisles of cargo would have countless places for him to hide.
“Why didn’t you tell us this?” Katrina demanded.
“Because it happened just as you entered the gardens. You couldn’t have caught him anyway,” IAN said.
Katrina had stopped to open a supply closet next to the door leading to the living area of the ship. According to the sign on the door, it was supposed to hold gardening tools if the clones felt the need to get back to nature.
She rummaged through boxes, tossing aside shovels and heavy gloves.
“What are you doing?” Wolfgang asked, dodging a hoe.
“This is one of the few closets I haven’t checked,” she said. “I asked for a full arsenal. They left me no weapons.”
Wolfgang picked up a shovel. “It’s possible the financiers didn’t think we would need many weapons.”
“Even if we had four hundred years of happy flying, we don’t know what we will face on the other planet. What if there are life-forms we don’t know about, and all we have is a shovel?” Katrina said.
“We need to find Hiro,” Wolfgang said. “Focus on the matter at hand, Captain.”
Katrina continued to shove boxes around. Wolfgang called the ship’s cargo manifest up on his tablet and began shifting through documents.
“It looks like we do have weapons to protect us on the planet. They’re just securely stored in the cargo hold.”
Wolfgang raised his head. “In the cargo hold. Where our murderer is likely headed.”
“Yes,” she said. She picked up a hoe. “Let’s go.”
The ladder to the lower levels was less friendly than the ladder to the gardens. This one was for maintenance and command only, and clearly disused.
As Wolfgang and Katrina got lower, motion sensors turned the lights on around them, low-wattage bulbs that guttered as if working for the first time in a very long time.
They passed other levels. “Do we want to check these?” Wolfgang asked at the doorway to the fourth level.
“He’s on the bottom level by now,” IAN said.
“Marvelous,” Katrina said. “I want to secure the weapons before he gets to them. If we have gardening tools and he has guns, we’re going to have the shortest lives we’ve ever had.”
Wolfgang considered telling her he’d had shorter, but that always led to uncomfortable discussions.
They kept careful watch on the motion-sensitive lights to indicate more movement, but they all were dark. From far below, lights flickered on and off from the cargo bay.
“He’s down there,” Wolfgang said.
“Be on alert,” Katrina said.