At the far side of the crowd, two reporters were covering the situation while small spherical cameras hovered in the air, recording them. Several security officers stood between the crowd and the reporters, some with shields and holding self-guided grenades full of tear gas, or perhaps sedatives. Ankari could not tell. They pointed at the knot of people, some shaking their heads, some arguing. Oddly, they did not advance on the crowd. The security men and the news people were wearing air-filtering masks. Some of the people in the crowd wore masks, too, and Ankari slowed down before she reached her people, her earlier fears of contagions coming to mind.
“Lauren,” she called softly, not wanting to attract the news crew’s attention—not that she considered herself newsworthy. “Jamie?”
Lauren did not seem to hear her, but Jamie turned and waved. Her eyes crinkled in what might have been a smile, but she, too, wore a mask.
“We seem to be underdressed,” Viktor observed.
Ankari waved for her people to join them. “We should have been buying masks instead of spending hours exploring the shower.”
“Well, it
did
have the two heads. There was much to explore.”
Usually, she appreciated Viktor’s dry humor, but she only shook her head now. “What’s happening?” she asked as soon as Jamie approached, dragging Lauren.
“They want to kill all of the rats,” Lauren blurted. “Other rodentia and the Mustelids, too, but my primary concern is the rats.”
“Why?” Viktor asked.
She blinked up at him, as if he was crazy for not knowing. Or perhaps a tad simple. “Because I
need
them,” Lauren said. “The store was closed yesterday and the day before, so I was unable to get the ones I need.”
“‘Morning, Captain,” Jamie said, the first to acknowledge that neither woman had seen him for weeks. “She’s afraid those people will incinerate the rats she wants to inject with experimental gut bugs. Personally, I’m not sure which is a worst fate.”
Lauren frowned at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. The last batch of rats lived twice as long as the average, and after six weeks, they were able to complete the maze tests eighty-four percent more quickly than before.”
“I thought you were past the rat trials,” Ankari said, frowning at the back of the crowd. The person who had been shouting before was holding something aloft, a can with a string—or maybe a fuse—dangling from it.
“That looks like a homemade explosive,” Viktor said. “It could take out the balcony at the least. At the worst, it could compromise the station.”
“I
was
past them,” Lauren said, seemingly oblivious to the danger in the crowd. “But I’m ready to test the new strain I’ve put together, and I can’t access my men.”
“Your men?” Ankari asked.
“Actually, they’re
his
men.” Jamie pointed at Viktor.
“My men?” Viktor asked blandly, though his eyes remained on the person with the bomb.
“My volunteers.” Lauren crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Viktor. “Corporal Vukovic, Sergeant Journey, and Lieutenant Frog. They received the first course of suppositories before you announced your Nimbus mission. They were supposed to report in daily for follow-up examinations, not rush off into battle.”
“Lieutenant Frog?” Viktor rubbed his head. “Suppositories?”
Ah, so Lauren
had
moved on to human trials. It wasn’t that surprising that the men hadn’t informed their captain that they had volunteered to go first, but it was surprising that Ankari hadn’t received more details on this. She had been working alongside Lauren for weeks, albeit focusing more on marketing, lining up clients, and replying to inquiries.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d selected men?” she asked.
“I did. I’m certain of it.” Lauren glanced at Jamie, who shrugged back. “Back when we were still on the ship, I mentioned it. I haven’t brought it up lately, since you’ve been busy mooning over your missing captain, but surely you’ve heard me grousing about the lack of reports I should have been receiving.”
“Mooning?” Viktor appeared faintly pleased at this information.
Ankari did remember grousing, but Lauren always groused. She had tuned much of it out.
“You chose the
mercenaries
for the first trials?” Ankari asked. What if one or more of her subjects had experienced an adverse reaction on the eve of battle? Or
during
battle? She almost asked if the men who had died had been a part of the experiment, but no, the names Lauren had mentioned hadn’t been on the list of injured or killed.
“Yes. They are mostly healthy, aside from all the alcohol they consume.”
“Stay back,” the man with the explosive said, waving the device in the air. Several others echoed his warnings, they, too, clutching homemade incendiary devices.
Viktor’s pistol had appeared in his hand, and he looked like he was thinking of shooting the ringleader in the back of the head.
“Let Security handle it,” Ankari whispered. “People are looking for reasons to throw you in jail, remember.”
“I haven’t forgotten. But we’re all at risk if—”
“Lower your bombs and step away from them,” one of the security men ordered as he tapped a pistol at his belt. “We don’t wish to harm civilians, but your actions threaten Midway 5, and they must be stopped.”
“What must be stopped is allowing vermin on this station. If there’s a plague, they’re the source. Rats have always been known for carrying disease.”
A plague? Rats? Did this fellow know something Ankari did not, or was he reacting irrationally out of fear?
“We demand that you open these shop doors and let us in to exterminate all of the rodents,” the man continued.
“Even if we wished to give in to your demands, each storekeeper pays for the rent in our spaces and sets his or her own access code for the security barrier.” The security man waved toward the shimmering force field that allowed one to see the goods near the front of the shop but kept anyone from entering when it was up.
“Then find the owner.”
The security men and women conferred with each other.
“I’m surprised they don’t just shoot that blowhard,” Jamie said.
“If the explosive is made from unstable compounds,” Viktor said, “and that’s often the case with homemade bombs, it could go off if it’s dropped.”
“Let them blow themselves up,” Lauren growled. “They don’t have any reason to threaten the contents of that store.”
“Or the rats you want for your experiments?” Ankari asked.
“The rats I’ve been trying to purchase for two days now, yes. I’ve sent written and voice messages, and have only received auto-responders. Can you help me get into the shop before anything untoward happens?” Lauren might have called Ankari that morning, but she was looking toward Viktor now. “There must be a back door.”
“The coffee shop had one,” Ankari said, thinking of her adventure with the Fleet captain’s tablet. Viktor wasn’t the only one who should avoid gaining the attention of security and the news crew.
“Any other doors would presumably be locked,” Viktor said. “Burglars and arsonists are usually bright enough to check the doors before creating a scene that draws reporters.”
“But Jamie said she could bypass the door-locking systems,” Lauren said, turning her imploring gaze on her accomplice. Ankari could not believe these rats mattered so much to her. Couldn’t they put some traps behind the trash bins in the shuttle bay and collect a few that way?
“I said I would download the technical manual for the security system that they’re using here,” Jamie said. “It failed to include a lock-picking section.”
Viktor had been looking at the map on his tablet again. He snapped it shut, eyed the crowd for a long moment, like he was still thinking of shooting the troublemakers, but ultimately said, “This way.”
He turned, heading back the way they had come. Ankari hesitated, both because she questioned whether it was worth it to poke their noses into trouble over a pet store and because she hadn’t invited Viktor along. Now he was in charge?
She might have hesitated, but neither Lauren nor Jamie did. They trotted after Viktor, leaving her alone with the bomb-happy crowd.
“Nothing good is going to come of this,” she grumbled, hurrying to catch up.
Viktor turned down a narrow corridor between a manicure salon and a uniform store. A few dim lights were on in the clothing shop, and Ankari glimpsed a green-and-blue camouflage jacket-and-trousers set with vibrant orange lightning bolt patches on the shoulders. She couldn’t imagine who the clientele for that might be, but it plucked at her humor. Maybe she would get them as a joke for Viktor’s birthday—if he had not asked her to leave the ship by then.
Grimacing, Ankari followed the others through a doorway to the right, surprised it was open, since a plaque read,
Employees only
. They followed a utilitarian corridor running behind the shops, parallel to the balcony. Viktor passed five doors before stopping at the sixth.
“This is it,” he said.
Unlike the front, which allowed the display of the shop goods while keeping people out, this was a normal metal door, the kind that automatically slid into the wall to open, assuming it recognized the person trying to walk through it. Not surprisingly, it did not recognize any of them.
With her tablet in hand and the contents of a technical manual floating in the air above it, Jamie stopped in front of the door. She frowned as she peered at either side of it. “Oh. The control panel is on the inside.” She looked up. “There’s a camera and sensor up there.”
Viktor pressed something flat against the door, close to the jamb. The small metallic device stuck to the metal and a faint hum sounded from within it. It might look like nothing more than a magnet to a casual observer, but Ankari remembered seeing some of the richer gangs back home using something similar to break into houses and warehouses.
“Is that a Lock Master 8000?” she asked, surprised that Viktor had brought such a thing with him. “I didn’t know the company specialized in breaking and entering.”
“I haven’t broken anything.” A click and a hiss came from the door, and it slid aside. Viktor grabbed his device before it could disappear into the wall. “Sometimes the men get arrested on shore leave. Depending on the planet or station, it’s usually easier to break them out than deal with the legal system.”
“Or pay fines?”
“They usually want you to pay
bail
and agree not to leave the planet until the men have been tried. That doesn’t work with my schedule.” After a quick glance into the dark store, Viktor drew his pistol and put his back against the jamb so the door could not slide shut. “Security control panel is there.” He told Jamie and jerked his chin toward the inside wall. “Be quick. We’re not alone.”
A questioning chirp came from somewhere in the store, followed by a growl and some chittering from a corner.
“I could have told you that from the smell,” Ankari whispered, wrinkling her nose at the odor of animal droppings that wafted out. If the store had been closed for the last two days, and nobody had come by to tend to the furry, feathered, and scaled inhabitants, that made sense.
“Human noises,” Viktor said, not taking his gaze from the interior as Jamie squeezed past him. Some light from the balcony bled through the force field, the crowd of people visible as silhouettes. “Inside,” he added quietly.
How he knew, Ankari could only guess. She did not see anyone standing in the store, but shelf-lined aisles to either side blocked her view.
“Ugh,” Jamie said, frowning at the security panel. “Less than a minute to input the correct code, or an alarm will sound.” She held up her tablet, some hacking program running. Ankari knew little about technological thievery; her expertise ended at pockets.
“Let me find the rats, then,” Lauren said. “I brought physical aurums, so I could leave an appropriate payment.”
“I think you’re only expected to leave appropriate payment if you come in through the front door,” Ankari said.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Lauren tried to slip past Viktor, but he held up a hand, stopping her.
“I’ll look around,” he said. “Stay.”
“Make sure you get the Mercrusean Grays, please,” Lauren whispered after him.
Judging from the frown Viktor sent back over his shoulder, he had meant that he would look for the humans he believed were here, not the items on her shopping list.
Ankari batted Lauren on the arm.
“What?” Lauren asked. “They were advertised in the catalogue. They’re the whole reason I’m here. Their diets and digestive tracts are amazingly similar to humans.”
“Oh? They eat awful mercenary rations too?”
“Almost have it,” Jamie whispered. “I think. Maybe.”
Not certain how much time they would have, Ankari headed in the direction Viktor had gone. While he was looking for trouble, she would try to find Lauren’s special rats. She risked turning on the flashlight application on her tablet, selecting a red setting that should not be visible through the barrier. Just in case, she kept it angled toward the floor and stayed near the back of the store.
Whimpers coming from down one of the aisles tugged at Ankari, making her want to go comfort whatever was making the noises. Puppies? Dogs seemed unlikely on a space station, but perhaps some of the inhabitants kept small breeds.
“Later,” she muttered. Once she had the rats, she could see if any of the other creatures needed food or water or help. They might simply be making noise because they had company, not out of any distress. Just because the store had been closed yesterday did not mean nobody had been by to tend the animals.
“Ankari?” Viktor asked softly from the next aisle.
“Yes.” She turned down it and hurried to reach him, but faltered when she spotted a figure crumpled on the floor. A human figure. “Er, did you do that?” She shone the light on the gray-haired man, his eyes open and unseeing. There wasn’t a pool of blood under him, and no obvious wounds marked his flesh.
“No.” Viktor crouched and turned the man’s head from side to side, checking his throat, then he patted the torso. “Rigor mortis has come and gone. He’s been dead for more than twenty-four hours.”