Chapter 7

Over the course of the next few days, I got everything in order.

I signed the contract with Jacob, and specialized couriers came to carefully remove my most precious possession from my flat. I admit I shed some tears. I’m not proud of it. But the distress helped drive me forward. The clock was truly ticking now. If I didn’t find Geelan and get my money back, at least six hundred thousand credits of it, I would never see again the one thing left that really mattered to me. Unless, of course, I booked a flight to Paris and bought myself a one-day museum pass like every other touring schmuck. And I would hate Jacob for it too, but I would have to live with the fact that I had been the one to talk him into taking it from me. What a fool I was. But what choice did I have? Geelan had me dead to rights.

I arranged the quick sale of my few remaining possessions. What I had left wasn’t worth keeping, except the few items I had packed in my luggage. And I also terminated my lease of the flat. I knew I wasn’t coming back here. If I succeeded in my quest, I would be living somewhere much better. If I failed, I wouldn’t even be able to afford this dump.

I made some calls, talked my heart out, and finally won the privilege of paying a small transport company a hefty sum for an unwelcome ride on a freighter for Sirius IV. The ship was leaving orbit in a day or two. I chartered a private shuttle at the old Mojave Spaceport to take up me up to the ship, and I had purchased a seat on a suborbital flight to get me to Mojave, from my (now former) home in San Francisco.

I had finished with all my final arrangements, and there was nothing left to do now but to head for SFGA, the San Francisco Global Airport.

Delays were rampant, but hours later my luggage was finally checked and my ticket certified. I jogged to the gate, where the suborbital shuttle was already boarding. I got in line, caught my breath, and followed the steady stream into the craft. My seat was 18-A, just over the wing on the right side. After all the hassle of getting to the airport and fighting my own way through the mess of eager travelers pushing their away around the weary ones, I was looking forward to collapsing in my seat and getting some rest. I didn’t know if I would be able to sleep – I had been having trouble with that ever since Geelan bailed out on me a week ago – but I knew that I was finally taking my first tangible steps toward closing this ugly and embarrassing chapter of my life.

My seat was coming up. I held my impatience in check while the large man in front of me huffed his oversized luggage above him and struggled his way into his seat. Finally I was able to press forward to the next row, where my warm, comfortable, sleep-invoking seat awaited me. As I hefted my single bag above me, a lock of hair below me caught my eye. I looked down at the tan-skinned woman comfortably reclining next to my seat.

“You gotta be kidding me,” I sighed.

The woman smiled brightly at me. “Going somewhere, Sean?” Lana queried, with all the coyness of a timber wolf.

I pulled my bag back into my arms, and glanced earnestly around the cabin.

“It’s a full flight, Sean,” she chided. She patted the empty seat next to hers. “This is your reserved seat. I’m sure of it.”

I stared at her in disgust, thinking of all the mean things I wanted to say. I had planned peace and quiet, some reflective planning, maybe even some sleep. Definitely my privacy. She just shot that all to hell. I shoved my bag into the overhead compartment with more force than necessary, and sat down with an adolescent huff. I ignored her while I fiddled with my seat belt.

I could feel her gaze on me – dammit, I could feel her despicable smirk – but I stoically kept my eyes staring straight ahead while I fastened my belt, then I sat back as if she didn’t even exist. I suppose it was the tension in my jaw that gave me away.

“Get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, did we?” she teased.

She was really enjoying getting the drop on me like this. I spun toward her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Her face waxed innocent. “I’m…on my way to Mojave. Just like you, it seems.”

“Yeah, so it seems. Out of three million people in San Francisco, you and I happen to be two of the forty-five that are going to an old spaceport that hardly anyone uses anymore. What a coincidence.”

She shrugged. “Mojave is not ‘hardly used anymore.’ They still do a decent business. In fact, I hear they’ve started a rejuvenation project. They’re trying to get back to the glory days. Back when Space Ship One put the place on the map.”

I stared straight ahead, ignoring her. The last thing I wanted to do was debate spaceport history with this woman. I tried to put a name to my disgust. Why was it so strong? The best analogy I could come up with was that it felt like an atheist being followed around by an insufferable Jehovah’s Witness who had only one mission in life, and that was to convert you to their cause.

My building irritation finally pushed its way out. “You didn’t answer my question,” I growled to her. “What are you doing here?”

She gazed sidelong at me, and finally answered. “Let me be honest with you, Sean. Non-believer that you may be, I have only one mission in my life right now, and that is to bring you to Gaia so you can help us get rid of Atlas once and for all.”

My eyes clamped shut as my head collapsed against the seat. I focused on an imaginary point in the middle my forehead, trying to steady the churning in my stomach. After several deep breaths, I allowed my eyes to flutter open. My head rolled over in her direction, and her face filled my view. She was attractive. Very attractive. How incredibly annoying that was. Truly, a face all dressed up with no place to go.

“Lana, don’t you – Is that even your goddamn name?”

She smiled compassionately at me, like a mother gazing upon her sick child. “No.”

I nodded. The woman smirks, but she doesn’t seem to realize that she doesn’t get anything by me. “So what is it?”

I could tell from her expression that she wanted to withhold that piece of information, if only to spite me. But perhaps she knew that the only way to influence me was to gain my trust, and she had to start somewhere. “Colette,” she answered. “Colette Thornbush.”

She caught me by surprise. I was impressed. That was a really pretty name. Damn, two strikes against her now. A pretty face and a pretty name. If only I could convince her to get her head changed, she might have a shot. How she would ever find a man with politics like hers was a notion that entirely escaped me. “Nice name,” I allowed. Then I suddenly looked back at her with accusation. “Is that another alias?”

“No. That’s my real name. And I really do work for Gaian Intelligence.”

I grunted, and looked back away from her. I spoke to her from the side of my mouth. “I told you I’m not interested in your world’s problems.”

“That’s what you say. I’m here to convince you otherwise.”

My head rocked absently, begging for mercy. “Colette. You’re wasting your time, and giving me a headache. Why don’t you go annoy some other Atlas reject? You know. Somebody who gives a shit.” I turned to her. “And who, incidentally, is stupid enough to think a pretty face is all it takes to join that flea circus.”

She smiled at the back-handed compliment, and placed her hand warmly on top of mine. “I’m going to enjoy being with you, Sean.”

“You’re giving me a headache.”

The shuttle lifted into the sky, and made an unconcerned bank to the south.