The Lost Generation: Issue #4

Tonya took Melvin Hartley Jr. out to lunch. The old man looked like he needed it. In return, he was more than happy to share all he knew about the bank. One of the older institutions in the UEE, the Nebula Bank, gave Hartley’s great-grandmother her first loan to open the museum. Since then, they swelled into a financial behemoth, becoming more and more ruthless as the decades passed. Now, it seemed, the Nebula technically owned the collection of defaulted Artemis relics acquired by the Hartley Museum.

“Trust me, the representative was not thrilled about my loan application,” Melvin said as he cooled down a cup of tea. “But since the museum is a legacy client, his hands were tied. That’s why they were intractable, utterly intractable when I missed a payment. One payment.”

Tonya nodded as she listened. It was hard not to feel bad for the man. Maybe he had a penchant for theatrics, but even she could tell that he genuinely loved the museum. It’s hard not to pick up on that level of desperation. She wished she knew what to tell him. In all likelihood, he was going to lose the museum. Expressing condolences seemed trivial and pointless to her. Hartley didn’t know her, why would he care that she was sorry? It’s not like their communal sorrow would mystically summon a financial solution. Again, what was the point?

So she left it alone. Hartley sat in silence, blowing on his tea, before finally taking a sip.


* * * *


Hartley thanked her for the lunch and drifted back toward the museum. Tonya watched him shuffle down the street and turn a corner. Then she set her sights on Nebula.

The bank was an obelisk of metal and glass. Just on the way into the lobby, she picked out sixteen counter-intrusion devices for the building. There were cameras, motion sensors, thermal imaging, microphone-tendrils in the floor, and charge-boxes of nanodrones embedded in each of the panes. That was just the lobby. Her head hurt to think about what they had in mind for the vault.

The center of the lobby was filled with open cubicles and booths. Podiums for simple transactions or account info rose from the marble floor. All of the bank employees were dressed in the same dark blue uniforms. They all had the pallor of wax, with their hair either slicked or pulled back. They were very much human but conditioned to act like robots. It was disconcerting.

“Good afternoon, Miss Oriel,” a young man in his early twenties said as he approached. They must have Ret-scanners here too. “Can I interest you in a modest-rate savings account?”

“Sure.” Tonya smiled. The bank employee led her through the maze of cubicles to his tiny office and sat down. He started his sales pitch, comparing and contrasting the various savings and transaction accounts the bank offered, the number of branches Nebula currently offered, etc. Tonya tuned most of it out, although she did notice that their service charges were ridiculously high. She was more focused on collecting data of her own. Based on the bank employee’s screen, the bank was on a Kraken Network — a fairly complicated system with a wide array of security plug-ins but mostly open source. They didn’t have fingerprint or retina access panels on their employee systems.

“So can we sign you up?” He smiled blankly.

“This is a really big financial decision. It’s my future, you know?” Tonya stood and offered her best thoughtful and considerate look. “I’m going to have to really think this over.”

“But –“

Tonya left. She was a bit premature in assuming that she could break into the bank. The more she saw, the less she liked her odds.

Outside, she contacted one of Gavin Arlington’s legion of assistants and pled her case for acquiring the artifacts from the bank directly. The assistant was curt but polite. He said he would relay her message to Arlington and contact her when he heard back.

Back on the Beacon II, Tonya started looking into Nebula’s networks. Nothing serious, just a couple pokes and prods to test its reaction time. It did little to assuage her apprehensions. But she did find something of interest while sifting through the public shareholders’ updates:

Nebula Bank owned a controlling interest in a company called Public Reclamations, a local storage facility. It was an interesting lead made better when she found that their corporate services listed repossession and estate holdings as their specialization.

Their security was crap too. It took less than an hour for Tonya to access their internal network. She ran a search using Hartley’s case number with Nebula and got a hit. Six crates were being stored in their Kensington warehouse. Fifth floor. Lot #45ZB.

Suddenly, Tonya’s plan seemed viable again.


* * * *


Unfortunately, the security at Public Reclamations’ warehouse was not as flimsy as their network. Studying the architecture from a rooftop across the street, there were roving security guards, visible cameras, and wired windows. The building itself was a massive cube, isolated in the middle of the block. Not the easiest approach, especially for a self-professed ‘recreational justified burglar’ like Tonya.

On the plus side, someone in charge clearly had trust issues, because Tonya found remote access to a separate dedicated security feed that seemed to focus on the employees. She transferred the network’s access from her MobiGlas to the HUD in her linked glasses. Now she could switch between the guards on patrol, in the security center, even the staff lounge. Although she still couldn’t affect the building’s security systems, it was better than nothing.

Tonya left the warehouse to get her props.

An hour later, she set the Beacon II down in the private landing bay. A sales rep greeted her while the engines were still cycling down.

“Hi, can I help you?” This rep was even cheerier than the last one.

“Yeah, I need some storage space.” Tonya looked around the lot, as if surveying it for the first time. She was doing her best to channel this old hauler she used to overhear at the Torchlight Express. “You guys do that, right?”

“That’s what the sign says,” the rep laughed nervously. Tonya didn’t crack a smile. He smothered any further chuckling. “Yes, you are correct.”

“Good. I’ve got four-point-seven-eight metric tonnes of unspecified cargo that I need to offload. You got that kind of space?”

“Sure, the facility is outfitted to –“

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’ll have to have a look first.”

“Of course. Follow me.” The rep led her inside.

“Got anything on the fifth floor?” Tonya scoped out the security cameras. The rep stammered for a second then checked his Glas.

“Um. We do, but there are available units on lower floors.”

“Yeah, well, in my experience when people break into a place, they’re gonna hit the lower levels first.”

“I assure you, we’re quite secure.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are. Humor me.”

The rep took her up to the fifth floor, giving his sales pitch the whole time. He led her through the narrow halls, all lit with the same flat lighting bars. They passed a massive set of rolling doors. A screen beside it listed a span of lot numbers, including Hartley’s. It must be Nebula’s store.

Tonya stopped at the small storage bay next door. The locking mechanism wasn’t activated. She glanced up and down the hall. There were two cameras aimed at Nebula’s storage space and they weren’t even overlapping coverage. She could stand underneath one without being seen by the other.

“This one available?” She tapped the screen. The gate rolled up. The rep was a few steps ahead of her.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he hurried back. “I don’t think it’ll be large enough based on your size requirements.”

Tonya stepped inside the small dusty room and looked around.

“This’ll be fine.”

“I –“

“I know how you guys work, try to up-sell me on space I don’t need.” The rep was about to argue but wilted under the threat of losing the sale. Tonya felt like she was getting the hang of this social manipulation thing.

A month’s rent up-front and a fake name was all it took for the rep to thank her repeatedly and disappear from sight.

Tonya went back to her ship. She loaded a pair of crates onto her anti-grav mover and headed inside. In her storage space, she opened the crates. They were empty except for some entry-tools and her MobiGlas.

She checked on the feed from the security center. The guards were busy talking to the sales rep, who was posturing like he’d made the sale of the century.

Back outside, she fixed her MobiGlas to an extendable baton and snapped a pic of the closer camera’s angle on the storage bay. She flipped the picture to a small portable screen. Double-checking to make sure the guards were still distracted, she brazenly placed the photo inches in front of the camera. The feed on the monitor went dark as the auto-exposure recalibrated, but eventually it balanced itself.

The guards were none the wiser. Tonya repeated the procedure for the second camera. She ran a bypass of the locking mechanism and within ten minutes the gate rolled open.

Nebula’s storage bay occupied the rest of the floor. It was a labyrinth of repossessed antiquity and furniture.

Tonya maneuvered the anti-grav mover through the narrow passages as she scanned the lot numbers. Finally she found Hartley’s collection of Artemis relics stacked and wrapped in a weave.

She checked on the guards. They were silently laughing about something with the rep. She slashed the weave, loaded the boxes onto the mover, and sealed them inside her cargo crates.

As she crossed the landing bay to the Beacon II, the sales rep came running.

“Is everything all right?” he yelled.

“Yeah, you were right, my stuff wouldn’t fit.”

“Do you want a different –“

“That’s okay. I’ll find another spot.”

“But …”

Tonya closed the cargo doors and moved up to the cockpit. The engines heated up and she took off, leaving a very confused rep on the landing bay.

With Earth quickly receding in her six, Tonya set her course and went to see what Hartley had acquired. She carefully opened the boxes; she would catalogue everything more thoroughly when she had a chance, but it seemed to be mostly launch transcripts and preliminary designs before she got to it …

Judging simply by appearance, it was an obsolete drive suspended inside a shock-resistant airtight archive case. But she knew — it was Janus. An original copy of the Artemis’ piloting AI.

Tonya basked in the moment. It didn’t last long, as the intense curiosity that fueled her flared up once again.

She dusted off an old system that could accept the Janus drive. Before she would even think about activating Janus, she went through, making sure that the host system wasn’t directly connected to her ship for anything other than power. Last thing she needed was an AI running rampant through her flight computer.

Satisfied, Tonya took a long deep breath. She cracked open the archive case with the Janus drive. It didn’t appear to have aged a day since it was packed. Tonya sorted out the cables and plugged it into the system.

For the third time, she went through and triple-checked the connections.

Her finger hovered over the power button on the Janus drive.

“Here we go,” she murmured …

… and pressed it.

. . . to be continued

Tonya führte Melvin Hartley Jr. zum Mittagessen aus. Der alte Mann sah aus, als würde er es brauchen. Im Gegenzug war er mehr als glücklich, alles, was er über die Bank wusste, mitzuteilen. Eine der älteren Institutionen in der UEE, die Nebula Bank, gab Hartleys Urgroßmutter ihre erste Leihgabe zur Eröffnung des Museums. Seitdem wuchsen sie zu einem Finanzriesen heran und wurden im Laufe der Jahrzehnte immer rücksichtsloser. Nun schien es, dass der Nebel technisch im Besitz der Sammlung von ausgefallenen Artemis-Relikten war, die vom Hartley Museum erworben wurde.

"Vertrau mir, der Vertreter war nicht begeistert von meinem Kreditantrag", sagte Melvin, als er eine Tasse Tee herunterkühlte. "Aber da das Museum ein veralteter Kunde ist, waren ihm die Hände gebunden. Deshalb waren sie unnachgiebig, völlig unnachgiebig, als ich eine Zahlung verpasste. Eine Zahlung."

Tonya nickte, als sie zuhörte. Es war schwer, sich nicht schlecht für den Mann zu fühlen. Vielleicht hatte er eine Vorliebe für Theater, aber selbst sie konnte erkennen, dass er das Museum wirklich liebte. Es ist schwer, nicht an diese Verzweiflung anzuknüpfen. Sie wünschte, sie wüsste, was sie ihm sagen sollte. Aller Wahrscheinlichkeit nach würde er das Museum verlieren. Das Ausdrücken von Beileid erschien ihr trivial und sinnlos. Hartley kannte sie nicht, warum sollte es ihn interessieren, dass es ihr leid tut? Es ist ja nicht so, dass ihre gemeinsame Trauer mystisch eine finanzielle Lösung herbeirufen würde. Nochmals, was war der Punkt?

Also ließ sie es in Ruhe. Hartley saß schweigend da und blies auf seinen Tee, bevor er schließlich einen Schluck trank.


* * * *


Hartley dankte ihr für das Mittagessen und trieb zurück zum Museum. Tonya beobachtete, wie er die Straße hinunter schlurfte und um eine Ecke ging. Dann setzte sie ihr Ziel auf Nebel.

Die Bank war ein Obelisk aus Metall und Glas. Auf dem Weg in die Lobby suchte sie sich sechzehn Einbruchmelder für das Gebäude aus. Es gab Kameras, Bewegungssensoren, Wärmebildtechnik, Mikrophonranken im Boden und Ladeboxen von Nanodronen, die in jede der Scheiben eingebettet waren. Das war nur die Lobby. Ihr Kopf tat weh, um darüber nachzudenken, was sie für den Tresorraum im Sinn hatten.

Die Mitte der Lobby war mit offenen Kabinen und Kabinen gefüllt. Aus dem Marmorboden ragten Podeste für einfache Transaktionen oder Kontoinformationen heraus. Alle Mitarbeiter der Bank waren in die gleichen dunkelblauen Uniformen gekleidet. Sie alle hatten die Blässe aus Wachs, die Haare entweder geschliffen oder zurückgezogen. Sie waren sehr menschlich, aber konditioniert, um sich wie Roboter zu verhalten. Es war beunruhigend.

"Guten Tag, Miss Oriel", sagte ein junger Mann Anfang zwanzig, als er sich näherte. Sie müssen hier auch Ret-Scanner haben. "Kann ich dich für ein moderates Sparkonto interessieren?"

" Sicher." Tonya lächelte. Der Bankmitarbeiter führte sie durch das Labyrinth der Kabinen zu seinem winzigen Büro und setzte sich. Er begann sein Verkaufsgespräch und verglich und kontrastierte die verschiedenen Spar- und Transaktionskonten der Bank, die Anzahl der derzeit angebotenen Filialen Nebula, etc. Tonya stimmte das meiste davon ab, obwohl sie bemerkte, dass ihre Nebenkosten lächerlich hoch waren. Sie konzentrierte sich mehr darauf, eigene Daten zu sammeln. Basierend auf dem Bildschirm des Bankmitarbeiters befand sich die Bank in einem Kraken-Netzwerk - einem ziemlich komplizierten System mit einer Vielzahl von Sicherheits-Plugins, aber meist Open Source. Sie hatten keinen Fingerabdruck oder Netzhaut-Zugangspanels auf ihren Mitarbeitersystemen.

"Können wir dich also anmelden?" Er lächelte blank.

"Das ist eine wirklich große finanzielle Entscheidung. Es ist meine Zukunft, weißt du?" Tonya stand auf und bot ihren besten nachdenklichen und rücksichtsvollen Blick an. "Ich muss das wirklich überdenken."

" Aber -"

Tonya ist gegangen. Sie war etwas verfrüht, als sie annahm, dass sie in die Bank einbrechen könnte. Je mehr sie sah, desto weniger gefielen ihr ihre Chancen.

Draußen kontaktierte sie einen von Gavin Arlingtons Assistentenlegion und plädierte für ihren Fall, weil sie die Artefakte direkt von der Bank erworben hatte. Die Assistentin war schroff, aber höflich. Er sagte, er würde ihre Nachricht an Arlington weiterleiten und sie kontaktieren, wenn er zurückkommt.

Zurück auf dem Leuchtfeuer II begann Tonya, sich mit den Netzwerken des Nebels zu befassen. Nichts Ernstes, nur ein paar Stöße und Stöße, um die Reaktionszeit zu testen. Es tat wenig, um ihre Befürchtungen zu zerstreuen. Aber sie fand etwas Interessantes, während sie die Updates der Aktionäre durchstöberte:

Die Nebula Bank besaß eine Mehrheitsbeteiligung an einem Unternehmen namens Public Reclamations, einem lokalen Speicher. Es war eine interessante Führung, die besser gemacht wurde, als sie herausfand, dass ihre Unternehmensdienste Wiederinbesitznahme und Nachlassbesitz als ihre Spezialisierung aufführten.

Ihre Sicherheit war auch scheiße. Es dauerte weniger als eine Stunde, bis Tonya auf ihr internes Netzwerk zugreifen konnte. Sie führte eine Suche nach Hartleys Fallnummer mit Nebel durch und bekam einen Treffer. Sechs Kisten wurden in ihrem Lager in Kensington gelagert. Fünfter Stock. Los #45ZB.

Plötzlich schien Tonyas Plan wieder realisierbar.


* * * *


Leider war die Sicherheit im Lagerhaus von Public Reclamations nicht so schwach wie das Netzwerk. Von einem Dach auf der anderen Straßenseite aus wurde die Architektur studiert, es gab umherziehende Sicherheitskräfte, sichtbare Kameras und verdrahtete Fenster. Das Gebäude selbst war ein massiver Kubus, der in der Mitte des Blocks isoliert war. Nicht der einfachste Ansatz, besonders für einen selbsternannten "Freizeit-Einbrecher" wie Tonya.

Auf der anderen Seite hatte ein Verantwortlicher eindeutig Vertrauensprobleme, denn Tonya fand Fernzugriff auf einen separaten, dedizierten Sicherheitsfeed, der sich auf die Mitarbeiter zu konzentrieren schien. Sie übertrug den Zugang des Netzwerks von ihrem MobiGlas auf das HUD in ihrer verbundenen Brille. Jetzt konnte sie zwischen den Wachen auf Streife, im Sicherheitszentrum und sogar in der Personallounge wechseln. Obwohl sie die Sicherheitssysteme des Gebäudes immer noch nicht beeinflussen konnte, war es besser als nichts.

Tonya verließ das Lagerhaus, um ihre Requisiten zu holen.

Eine Stunde später setzte sie die Beacon II in der privaten Landebucht ab. Ein Handelsvertreter begrüßte sie, während die Motoren noch im Stillstand waren.

"Hi, kann ich dir helfen?" Dieser Repräsentant war noch fröhlicher als der letzte.

"Ja, ich brauche etwas Stauraum." Tonya schaute sich auf dem Gelände um, als ob sie es zum ersten Mal besichtigen würde. Sie tat ihr Bestes, um diesen alten Schlepper zu kanalisieren, den sie beim Torchlight Express belauscht hatte. "Ihr macht das, oder?"

"Das ist es, was das Schild sagt", lachte der Vertreter nervös. Tonya hat kein Lächeln gebrochen. Er erstickte jedes weitere Kichern. "Ja, du hast Recht."

"Gut. Ich habe vier, sieben, acht, acht Tonnen nicht spezifizierte Ladung, die ich entladen muss. Hast du so viel Platz?"

"Sicher, die Anlage ist ausgestattet für -"

"Ja, ich weiß nicht. Ich muss es mir erst ansehen."

"Natürlich. Folgt mir." Der Repräsentant führte sie hinein.

"Hast du etwas im fünften Stock?" Tonya hat die Überwachungskameras überprüft. Der Repräsentant stammelte für eine Sekunde und überprüfte dann sein Glas.

"Ähm. Das tun wir, aber es gibt verfügbare Einheiten in den unteren Stockwerken."

"Ja, nun, nach meiner Erfahrung, wenn Leute in einen Ort einbrechen, werden sie zuerst die unteren Ebenen erreichen."

"Ich versichere dir, wir sind ziemlich sicher."

"Oh, da bin ich mir sicher. Stimm mir zu."

Der Vertreter brachte sie in den fünften Stock und gab ihr die ganze Zeit sein Verkaufsgespräch. Er führte sie durch die engen Hallen, die alle mit den gleichen flachen Lichtleisten beleuchtet wurden. Sie passierten einen massiven Satz Rolltore. Ein Bildschirm daneben listete eine Spanne von Chargennummern auf, einschließlich Hartleys. Es muss Nebels Laden sein.

Tonya hielt an der kleinen Lagerhalle nebenan. Der Verriegelungsmechanismus wurde nicht aktiviert. Sie blickte den Flur hinauf und hinunter. Es gab zwei Kameras, die auf den Speicherplatz des Nebels gerichtet waren, und sie waren nicht einmal überlappend. Sie konnte unter einem stehen, ohne von dem anderen gesehen zu werden.

"Ist das hier noch frei?" Sie klopfte auf den Bildschirm. Das Tor rollte auf. Der Repräsentant war ihr ein paar Schritte voraus.

"Ja, Ma'am", sagte er, als er zurück eilte. "Ich glaube nicht, dass er groß genug sein wird, basierend auf deinen Größenanforderungen."

Tonya trat in den kleinen, staubigen Raum und sah sich um.

"Das wird schon wieder."

"“I –“

"Ich weiß, wie ihr arbeitet, versucht, mich im Weltraum zu verkaufen, den ich nicht brauche." Der Repräsentant war im Begriff zu argumentieren, wilted aber unter der Drohung des Verlierens des Verkaufs. Tonya fühlte sich, als würde sie den Dreh rausfinden, was diese soziale Manipulation ist.

Eine Monatsmiete im Voraus und ein falscher Name waren alles, was der Vertreter brauchte, um sich wiederholt bei ihr zu bedanken und aus den Augen zu verlieren.

Tonya ging zurück zu ihrem Schiff. Sie lud ein Paar Kisten auf ihren Antigravurheber und ging hinein. In ihrem Lagerraum öffnete sie die Kisten. Sie waren bis auf einige Einstiegswerkzeuge und ihr MobiGlas leer.

Sie hat die Übertragung vom Sicherheitszentrum überprüft. Die Wachen waren damit beschäftigt, mit dem Handelsvertreter zu sprechen, der so posierte, als hätte er den Verkauf des Jahrhunderts gemacht.

Wieder draußen fixierte sie ihr MobiGlas an einem ausziehbaren Schlagstock und machte ein Bild vom Winkel der näheren Kamera auf dem Stauraum. Sie drehte das Bild auf einen kleinen tragbaren Bildschirm. Um sicherzustellen, dass die Wachen noch abgelenkt waren, legte sie das Foto dreist vor die Kamera. Die Einspeisung auf dem Monitor wurde dunkel, als die automatische Belichtung neu kalibriert wurde, aber schließlich balancierte sie sich selbst.

Die Wachen waren nicht klüger. Tonya wiederholte den Vorgang für die zweite Kamera. Sie ließ einen Bypass des Verriegelungsmechanismus laufen und innerhalb von zehn Minuten rollte das Tor auf.

Die Lagerbucht des Nebels belegte den Rest des Stockwerks. Es war ein Labyrinth aus wieder in Besitz genommener Antike und Möbeln.

Tonya manövrierte den Antigravuristen durch die engen Gänge, als sie die Chargennummern scannte. Schließlich fand sie Hartleys Sammlung von Artemis-Relikten gestapelt und in eine Webart verpackt.

Sie hat die Wachen überprüft. Sie lachten schweigend über etwas mit dem Repräsentanten. Sie schlitzte das Gewebe auf, lud die Kisten auf den Mover und versiegelte sie in ihren Frachtkisten.

Als sie die Landebucht zum Beacon II überquerte, kam der Außendienstmitarbeiter zum Einsatz.

"Ist alles in Ordnung?", schrie er.

"Ja, du hattest Recht, meine Sachen würden nicht passen."

"Willst du eine andere -"

"Das ist in Ordnung. Ich werde einen anderen Platz finden."

"Aber..."

Tonya schloss die Frachttüren und ging zum Cockpit. Die Triebwerke heizten sich auf und sie hob ab und ließ einen sehr verwirrten Vertreter auf der Landebucht zurück.

Als die Erde sich schnell in ihren Sechs zurückzog, setzte Tonya ihren Kurs und ging zu Hartleys Erwerb. Sie öffnete vorsichtig die Schachteln; sie würde alles gründlicher katalogisieren, wenn sie eine Chance hatte, aber es schien hauptsächlich Abschriften und Vorentwürfe zu sein, bevor sie dazu kam.....

Nach dem Aussehen zu urteilen, war es ein veraltetes Laufwerk, das in einem stoßfesten, luftdichten Archivgehäuse aufgehängt war. Aber sie wusste es - es war Janus. Eine Originalkopie der pilotierenden KI der Artemis.

Tonya sonnte sich im Moment. Es dauerte nicht lange, denn die intensive Neugier, die sie beflügelte, flammte wieder auf.

Sie staubte ein altes System ab, das den Janus-Antrieb akzeptieren konnte. Bevor sie überhaupt darüber nachdachte, Janus zu aktivieren, ging sie durch und stellte sicher, dass das Hostsystem nicht direkt mit ihrem Schiff verbunden war, um etwas anderes als Strom zu erhalten. Das Letzte, was sie brauchte, war eine KI, die durch ihren Flugcomputer rennt.

Zufrieden holte Tonya einen langen, tiefen Atemzug. Sie knackte den Archivkasten mit dem Janus-Laufwerk auf. Es schien nicht einen Tag gealtert zu sein, seit es gepackt war. Tonya sortierte die Kabel aus und steckte sie in das System.

Zum dritten Mal ging sie durch und überprüfte die Verbindungen dreifach.

Ihr Finger schwebte über den Netzschalter auf dem Janus-Laufwerk.

"Los geht's", murmelte sie....

.... und drückte sie.




. ... wird fortgesetzt

Tonya took Melvin Hartley Jr. out to lunch. The old man looked like he needed it. In return, he was more than happy to share all he knew about the bank. One of the older institutions in the UEE, the Nebula Bank, gave Hartley’s great-grandmother her first loan to open the museum. Since then, they swelled into a financial behemoth, becoming more and more ruthless as the decades passed. Now, it seemed, the Nebula technically owned the collection of defaulted Artemis relics acquired by the Hartley Museum.

“Trust me, the representative was not thrilled about my loan application,” Melvin said as he cooled down a cup of tea. “But since the museum is a legacy client, his hands were tied. That’s why they were intractable, utterly intractable when I missed a payment. One payment.”

Tonya nodded as she listened. It was hard not to feel bad for the man. Maybe he had a penchant for theatrics, but even she could tell that he genuinely loved the museum. It’s hard not to pick up on that level of desperation. She wished she knew what to tell him. In all likelihood, he was going to lose the museum. Expressing condolences seemed trivial and pointless to her. Hartley didn’t know her, why would he care that she was sorry? It’s not like their communal sorrow would mystically summon a financial solution. Again, what was the point?

So she left it alone. Hartley sat in silence, blowing on his tea, before finally taking a sip.


* * * *


Hartley thanked her for the lunch and drifted back toward the museum. Tonya watched him shuffle down the street and turn a corner. Then she set her sights on Nebula.

The bank was an obelisk of metal and glass. Just on the way into the lobby, she picked out sixteen counter-intrusion devices for the building. There were cameras, motion sensors, thermal imaging, microphone-tendrils in the floor, and charge-boxes of nanodrones embedded in each of the panes. That was just the lobby. Her head hurt to think about what they had in mind for the vault.

The center of the lobby was filled with open cubicles and booths. Podiums for simple transactions or account info rose from the marble floor. All of the bank employees were dressed in the same dark blue uniforms. They all had the pallor of wax, with their hair either slicked or pulled back. They were very much human but conditioned to act like robots. It was disconcerting.

“Good afternoon, Miss Oriel,” a young man in his early twenties said as he approached. They must have Ret-scanners here too. “Can I interest you in a modest-rate savings account?”

“Sure.” Tonya smiled. The bank employee led her through the maze of cubicles to his tiny office and sat down. He started his sales pitch, comparing and contrasting the various savings and transaction accounts the bank offered, the number of branches Nebula currently offered, etc. Tonya tuned most of it out, although she did notice that their service charges were ridiculously high. She was more focused on collecting data of her own. Based on the bank employee’s screen, the bank was on a Kraken Network — a fairly complicated system with a wide array of security plug-ins but mostly open source. They didn’t have fingerprint or retina access panels on their employee systems.

“So can we sign you up?” He smiled blankly.

“This is a really big financial decision. It’s my future, you know?” Tonya stood and offered her best thoughtful and considerate look. “I’m going to have to really think this over.”

“But –“

Tonya left. She was a bit premature in assuming that she could break into the bank. The more she saw, the less she liked her odds.

Outside, she contacted one of Gavin Arlington’s legion of assistants and pled her case for acquiring the artifacts from the bank directly. The assistant was curt but polite. He said he would relay her message to Arlington and contact her when he heard back.

Back on the Beacon II, Tonya started looking into Nebula’s networks. Nothing serious, just a couple pokes and prods to test its reaction time. It did little to assuage her apprehensions. But she did find something of interest while sifting through the public shareholders’ updates:

Nebula Bank owned a controlling interest in a company called Public Reclamations, a local storage facility. It was an interesting lead made better when she found that their corporate services listed repossession and estate holdings as their specialization.

Their security was crap too. It took less than an hour for Tonya to access their internal network. She ran a search using Hartley’s case number with Nebula and got a hit. Six crates were being stored in their Kensington warehouse. Fifth floor. Lot #45ZB.

Suddenly, Tonya’s plan seemed viable again.


* * * *


Unfortunately, the security at Public Reclamations’ warehouse was not as flimsy as their network. Studying the architecture from a rooftop across the street, there were roving security guards, visible cameras, and wired windows. The building itself was a massive cube, isolated in the middle of the block. Not the easiest approach, especially for a self-professed ‘recreational justified burglar’ like Tonya.

On the plus side, someone in charge clearly had trust issues, because Tonya found remote access to a separate dedicated security feed that seemed to focus on the employees. She transferred the network’s access from her MobiGlas to the HUD in her linked glasses. Now she could switch between the guards on patrol, in the security center, even the staff lounge. Although she still couldn’t affect the building’s security systems, it was better than nothing.

Tonya left the warehouse to get her props.

An hour later, she set the Beacon II down in the private landing bay. A sales rep greeted her while the engines were still cycling down.

“Hi, can I help you?” This rep was even cheerier than the last one.

“Yeah, I need some storage space.” Tonya looked around the lot, as if surveying it for the first time. She was doing her best to channel this old hauler she used to overhear at the Torchlight Express. “You guys do that, right?”

“That’s what the sign says,” the rep laughed nervously. Tonya didn’t crack a smile. He smothered any further chuckling. “Yes, you are correct.”

“Good. I’ve got four-point-seven-eight metric tonnes of unspecified cargo that I need to offload. You got that kind of space?”

“Sure, the facility is outfitted to –“

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’ll have to have a look first.”

“Of course. Follow me.” The rep led her inside.

“Got anything on the fifth floor?” Tonya scoped out the security cameras. The rep stammered for a second then checked his Glas.

“Um. We do, but there are available units on lower floors.”

“Yeah, well, in my experience when people break into a place, they’re gonna hit the lower levels first.”

“I assure you, we’re quite secure.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are. Humor me.”

The rep took her up to the fifth floor, giving his sales pitch the whole time. He led her through the narrow halls, all lit with the same flat lighting bars. They passed a massive set of rolling doors. A screen beside it listed a span of lot numbers, including Hartley’s. It must be Nebula’s store.

Tonya stopped at the small storage bay next door. The locking mechanism wasn’t activated. She glanced up and down the hall. There were two cameras aimed at Nebula’s storage space and they weren’t even overlapping coverage. She could stand underneath one without being seen by the other.

“This one available?” She tapped the screen. The gate rolled up. The rep was a few steps ahead of her.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he hurried back. “I don’t think it’ll be large enough based on your size requirements.”

Tonya stepped inside the small dusty room and looked around.

“This’ll be fine.”

“I –“

“I know how you guys work, try to up-sell me on space I don’t need.” The rep was about to argue but wilted under the threat of losing the sale. Tonya felt like she was getting the hang of this social manipulation thing.

A month’s rent up-front and a fake name was all it took for the rep to thank her repeatedly and disappear from sight.

Tonya went back to her ship. She loaded a pair of crates onto her anti-grav mover and headed inside. In her storage space, she opened the crates. They were empty except for some entry-tools and her MobiGlas.

She checked on the feed from the security center. The guards were busy talking to the sales rep, who was posturing like he’d made the sale of the century.

Back outside, she fixed her MobiGlas to an extendable baton and snapped a pic of the closer camera’s angle on the storage bay. She flipped the picture to a small portable screen. Double-checking to make sure the guards were still distracted, she brazenly placed the photo inches in front of the camera. The feed on the monitor went dark as the auto-exposure recalibrated, but eventually it balanced itself.

The guards were none the wiser. Tonya repeated the procedure for the second camera. She ran a bypass of the locking mechanism and within ten minutes the gate rolled open.

Nebula’s storage bay occupied the rest of the floor. It was a labyrinth of repossessed antiquity and furniture.

Tonya maneuvered the anti-grav mover through the narrow passages as she scanned the lot numbers. Finally she found Hartley’s collection of Artemis relics stacked and wrapped in a weave.

She checked on the guards. They were silently laughing about something with the rep. She slashed the weave, loaded the boxes onto the mover, and sealed them inside her cargo crates.

As she crossed the landing bay to the Beacon II, the sales rep came running.

“Is everything all right?” he yelled.

“Yeah, you were right, my stuff wouldn’t fit.”

“Do you want a different –“

“That’s okay. I’ll find another spot.”

“But …”

Tonya closed the cargo doors and moved up to the cockpit. The engines heated up and she took off, leaving a very confused rep on the landing bay.

With Earth quickly receding in her six, Tonya set her course and went to see what Hartley had acquired. She carefully opened the boxes; she would catalogue everything more thoroughly when she had a chance, but it seemed to be mostly launch transcripts and preliminary designs before she got to it …

Judging simply by appearance, it was an obsolete drive suspended inside a shock-resistant airtight archive case. But she knew — it was Janus. An original copy of the Artemis’ piloting AI.

Tonya basked in the moment. It didn’t last long, as the intense curiosity that fueled her flared up once again.

She dusted off an old system that could accept the Janus drive. Before she would even think about activating Janus, she went through, making sure that the host system wasn’t directly connected to her ship for anything other than power. Last thing she needed was an AI running rampant through her flight computer.

Satisfied, Tonya took a long deep breath. She cracked open the archive case with the Janus drive. It didn’t appear to have aged a day since it was packed. Tonya sorted out the cables and plugged it into the system.

For the third time, she went through and triple-checked the connections.

Her finger hovered over the power button on the Janus drive.

“Here we go,” she murmured …

… and pressed it.

. . . to be continued