The Package (Chapter One)
An excerpt from The Package (Novelette 1)
Another pack of instant ramen noodles with imitation eggs and sausages for lunch today. Need someone to install ransomware on a criminal’s holocomp? Bypass a Top Secret Station Security access? Divert gold coin mail transactions from Sol Mafia? I’m your guy, Malcolm Diego. However, business is slow despite being an awesome cyberjacker, and my savings are dwindling.
Unity Station Security cracks down big time on its War on Hacking. I take a couple days off when security arrests the majority of the cyberjacker network. The mediocre skilled are in jail and the best are floating outside the station without a spacesuit or turn into protein packs.
The good news, I’m still alive and have a month of savings. The bad news, Station Security is eyeing my every move. It’s only a matter of time before Chief Mascow comes up with some dumb excuse to arrest me. I guess I can find a corporate job until the heat dies. Nothing wrong trying to be legit.
I activate my armcomp to update my resume and search for any job openings. With some embellishments, I put in enough experience to wow the HR departments, despite my criminal history. Maybe I can also add “Bypassed security encryption to obtain $250,000 from the Bank of Unity.” Or, “Collected and analyzed AIFutCom President and CEO’s sexual history” in my Accomplishments section.
LunaStar might be hiring, but Moon Police are still looking for me as a person of interest in a price-gouging scheme after a colony accident. Apparently, trading oxygen and food one cent higher than the “fair price” is illegal. How about MarsSAM? No, wait. The CFO’s daughter thinks I impregnated her. I didn’t even talk to much less touch her, I swear. Maybe one of the Asteroid Belt colonies? They always need a good holocomp tech.
However, a trip to the Belt is about four to six months, including turnover, and no one has invented faster-than-light travel yet. I worked as a holocomp maintenance tech on a Luna-Mars-Luna transport a few times. But you’re packed in those tiny living quarters like sardines and there’s only so much you can do to pass the time before you start acting like an asylum patient. But I need the moolah, so I’ll take any job available.
The Spacers Guild currently has plenty of ships heading for the Belt. I cross-check ship and colony job listings. The transport ship Hella Awesome needs a part-time holocomm/holocomp tech and offers the standard pay and benefits. Typhod Station desperately needs holocomp techs, and the pay is five times the current market rate.
Typhod Holo Services gives me the job after eighteen minutes of radio sending/receiving. Hella Awesome accepts my application after seven minutes, and it departs at 1800 at Terminal Nineteen. I slurp my last ramen noodle. Time to pack.
My duffle bag includes an EVA skinsuit and helmet, two spares of civvies, work jumpsuit, and a toothbrush. I transfer all my Bank of Unity savings to my CryptoCoin wallet stored in my brain implant. Goodbye Unity. Now the hard part is leaving without being hassled by Station Security or bad guys with a grudge. I program the station’s computer to close my housing and utilities accounts the second Hella Awesome departs.
Station time is 1213. Plenty of people to hide behind during lunch break traffic. I’m hoping the baseball cap obscures me from the facial recognition surveillance software. I walk behind the big and tall (which is most people), slip past shoulders, and don’t make any eye contact. Employees from a clothing store and ramen restaurant curse at me while I’m exiting through their back doors.
But that isn’t enough. My shirt tightens and my lungs restrict. A bear-like figure spins me around. He towers over me and a growl rumbles from his diaphragm.
“Shut up and don’t move.”
I comply, and the familiar assailant puts himself between me and my escape to Central Docking Bay and Terminal Nineteen. In my most polite voice, I greet the man with the security badge.
“Hello, Chief Mascow.”
Chief Warrant Officer Emery Mascow snorts.
“You didn’t think you could leave this station without me knowing, did you?”
I smile, knowing Mascow can throw my ass in jail for any reason.
“No, of course not. Nothing gets by you, Chief.”
Passersby ignore us and keep on walking while Chief Mascow shoves me against the wall. He pokes his cigar-shaped finger at my chest.
“For years, I’ve wanted nothing more than to see you rot in prison or spaced towards Earth’s atmosphere. But I guess I’ll have to settle with you leaving this station forever. I don’t care where you’re going. Actually, I do. So I can warn the poor sucker that has to watch you. You better not come back or else. You hear me?”
My chest hurts but a few words escape from my lungs.
“Crystal clear, Chief.”
Chief Mascow spins me and hurls me back into the crowd. I walk and don’t look back. Going to miss that big lug.
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