Coffee and Convictions

Steve was kind enought to RP with me on this. Despite my shoving a very sketchy character description in his lap at the last minute Sonia Chen, as seen here, is as much his creation as she is mine. I hope we see more of her soon. Thanks, Steve!—Maer

December 2524
Viktoria Tikhonova's apartment
Capital City, Ariel
White Sun (Bai Hu) system
20:30, local time

Viktoria Tikhonova was packing for her first trip to the Rim. Her equipment and her engines were already crated up for the journey. She'd been inordinately proud of the logo blazoned on the containers. It was tangible proof that she'd be making a difference, that she wasn't useless dead weight … that her imagination actually did amount to something. They would be loaded on the ship come morning. She'd rushed home to her shared apartment and tore through her belongings in a mad orgy of packing. Not that there was much for her to pack. She didn't have many possessions. Even so, when an old friend's call came through inviting her to have a farewell cup of coffee with her, Vikki was in despair of getting everything to fit into the one duffel she allowed herself.

"Bozhe moi, yes," she agreed. She was already moving for the door. "I need a break. Meet you in … um …. fifteen minutes?" It would take her that long to ride the tram over if it was late. If it was on time and she arrived early, no harm done. Either way, you'd be out of the house and doing something normal for a change. Or so said her inner critic. "Okay, good. I'll be there. See you soon."

She hung up and slipped the phone in her pocket, locking up behind her. She was on the street and halfway to the tram stop before she realized that she hadn't bid her flat mates goodbye … or even if she knew they were there.

Yes, you definitely need to get out of your own head for a while. Cooped up on a spaceship for weeks, who knew how long it would be before she managed to leave it again? The sun had set and night was well underway, made darker by low clouds sifting down a sugary dusting of snow. The tram was warm from the people riding it and melting snowflakes on the tram windows made the city lights smear in hypnotic trails. Vikki's thoughts of the morning's departure and living for weeks in space nearly made her ride past her stop. Another passenger brushed against her on his way to the exit door and recalled to the present, she rose with the others and stepped off into the world again. Vikki pushed into the coffee shop a moment later, eyes dazzled by the brightness inside.

She checked her watch. Right on time. She searched the coffee shop where she stood, kitten cute from the snow frosting her hair and clothes, hoping to spot her friend amongst the couches and chairs.

Sonia sucked in a breath of vapor from her Mocha. It was too hot to drink, but she was desperate for the caffeine. Her eyes darted from the crowded city street to her new Cortex box. She'd managed to finagle it from Jones in IT when she returned her old one dripping with North Sea water. She could always sweet talk the IT guys. The text scrolled down the screen. Her feed was pinging every time "Sorghum" showed up. It wasn't exactly the assassination of an MP, but it was real journalism. She glanced up and saw the lithe figure of Vikki standing drenched in the entryway of the cafe. She rose and waved. "Vikki!"

Vikki's expression livened at the sight of her friend and her step was more assured as she crossed the shop. The snow clinging to her melted by the time she drew even with the table and she caught herself before she could actually hug Sonia. Vikki grinned as she took a chair.

"I doubt you'd want me to get you wet," she explained with a nod at the box. "New machine? Slay any dragons? Depose any despots? Kiss anyone new?" That last was something of an in-joke between them, given Sonia went through men faster than some went through underwear while Vikki had yet to go through her first. She carefully shrugged out of her coat, taking pains not to splash anything, and planted her elbows on the table in anticipation. Sonia always had the latest news and was always ready to dish. At least with the stuff that wasn't sensitive.

Sonia clicked off the screen. And gave a heavy sigh. "Do you consider new breeds of hearty wheat or an assistant vice president of marketing with tennis elbow more interesting?" she asked, clearly bored herself.

Vikki blinked and gave it some serious thought. Her thoughts never made it to the other side of her head before exiting her mouth. "New breeds of hearty wheat... hearty for tough growing conditions or hearty for nutrition? If the former, where is it meant to be grown? If the latter, what lack does it remedy? When's it going to be released? Does it conform to the non-GMO legislation or," and she lowered her voice and leaned closer, "do you think something fishy is going on with it? If so, what? Does the A-VP of Marketing have any connection to it? Who does he play tennis with? Are they making up backroom deals over the net or martinis at the club? Wait, if the two aren't connected, what's the A-VP the Marketing head of?"

You'd have to hook her mouth up to a drive train in a minute, it was going that fast, and anyone passing by would see her eyes lighting up at the prospect of the vicarious thrill of a mystery, of conspiracy. In her heart of hearts, Vikki envied Sonia's career. It seemed so exotic, so fraught with adventure. Vikki loved her work, no doubt, and reveled in losing herself in it ... but there were times she wished for something a little... more.

Admit it, you. That's why you said yes to coming out here. Never mind it's late and you have to get up early to make your flight in the morning. You're hoping she'll give you something to look for out there on the Rim.

Sonya sat silently enjoying her friend. She would miss this attention to detail, something her editors could learn from. "The VP is a Húndàn (Jerk) who thinks I am one of his fawning girls from the secretarial pool. The grain is some kind of tough stuff AgriCorp is pushing on some desert planets hoping to increase competition for trade." She pauses for a moment raising her hand to stop further questions. "But listen here, missy. I'll be asking the gorram questions. When do you leave? Where are you going first? Have you had your shots? Are you still going through with this cockamanie plan?"

"You? Fawn? Never. Bozhe moi, Sonia," Vikki laughed, smothering the noise behind a hand and checking quickly if anyone else had heard. Coast is clear. "In order: Tomorrow. Red Sun. Yes. And no, it's not cockamamie at all."

Seriously, she couldn't believe a woman as smart as Sonia obviously was couldn't see the benefits of her project. And yet, to each her own. For her part, Vikki just filed away the details her friend let slip. VP thinks she's one of his own. AgriCorp is behind the grain. Looking to use it in desert conditions. Huh. They're going to need water for that, wouldn't they? Luckily, she had a possible solution for that one.

Sonya took a sip from her drink and shook her head. "You don't know what you are getting into. The insurrection is barely over, and you're flying out there trying to peddle your latest doodad there. Those people..." She seemed flustered. "I appreciate what you are trying to do, but those people, they don't want our help. They.... " She paused again. "They hate us. You think you can deal with that?"

"Of course they hate us, Sonia," Vikki said softly, leaning in even closer. "Look at what we did to them. For years. Generations, even. But someone's got to extend that olive branch. It has to be someone from this side of the table. It .. We can't just ... give up. We'd only be sinking to the level of their expectations if we did that. Can't you see?" She sighed a frustrated sigh. God, why does it always have to be the other guy who goes first?

Sonya snorted a bit at Vikki's predictable response. "I just don't want you getting kidnapped and thrown into some filthy den as a sex slave. There was a story got pulled from the wire, about some huge slave ring out of Beaumonde, I think. The stories were pretty bad, Vikki. People out there, sure they've had it rough, and as a result they don't have the same value on life. And Alliance people? Even less."

"I'll be fine, Sonia. I'm not going to end up in a ditch or a den somewhere." Like I'm pretty enough to catch anyone's eye that way anyway, she thought. For a brief moment in her undergraduate days she thought perhaps she'd started a glimmer in one man's .... No. That's over. Pay attention. "And really, if you think that's supposed to convince me not to go, that's pretty lame. You know that sort of thing happens when it's profitable and the reason it's profitable is because they have little else to turn a profit on. Besides," and if it were possible for her to lower her voice and get any closer and yet have her friend hear her and not be smothered, somehow Vikki managed it. "As if the Companions aren't in the same boat anyway? It might be a cushier boat, but it's still one they can't leave once they're aboard it. They have to adhere to rules for everything. How they can date someone, how often, how seriously ... They can't marry when they want or even have kids when they want. The Guild has rules and laws for everything they do—hell, they probably have a rule for how they're allowed to breathe. How can anybody live like that? I'm not saying that the exploited on the Rim have it better but at least they aren't pretending it's not a nasty business. Not like ... like here. Or are you going to tell me that someone's done a report on that and they pulled that one, too?"

She might be flighty and dreamy and regularly lost in her work, but Vikki had eyes and could extrapolate from what she saw. Companions lived very well and were accorded every perk the Core could offer them ... everything except basic body freedom. Vikki might be untried in sexual relations but even she understood the Floating World was its own gilded prison.

Sonya seemed to drift off a bit at the mention of Companions. There were plenty of lonely nights in her tiny apartment boiling up ramen when she'd gladly trade her life for that of a middle tier Companion. Still she got the point.

"I'll concede there is corruption and danger here as well. More than you want to know. At least here I can look after you." She smiled. "Oh, that reminds me." She looked around suspiciously then reached for her handbag, a somewhat beaten but vintage thing. She pulled out something loosely wrapped in a scarf.

"Take a look," she whispered, giddily.

Vikki thought she'd lost her friend when the other woman's eyes started glazing over but was relieved when Sonia responded. Whew. Attitude much, Vikki? Pipe it down. She had an apology on the tip of her tongue when Sonia distracted her with whatever was in that scarf. Something Sonia was careful not to bring above the level of the table. Vikki looked down, caught the gleam of a gun amongst the chiffon, and steeled herself not to jump and give the game away. Instead she smiled at Sonia as if they were just gossiping, but kept her voice low. Just in case.

"What's that for? Is the story you're working on that dangerous? Geez, Sonia, I don't know if I should be thrilled you're getting close to something meaty or worried you're getting in too deep. Which is it?"

Which was always the risk of having friends, Vikki knew. They made you worry. It hadn't yet occurred to her that the worry went both ways.

Sonya laughed. "It's not for me, you Bèndàn (Idiot). I got it for you! You never know what might happen out there." She handed the scarf and gun to Vikki under the table. "Just take it. I can't be there to warn you about anything. Who knows if they even get the Cortex out there?"

Vikki laughed with her friend a split second later, her shock forcing the noise out of her even as she stuffed the thing in her coat pocket. Once it was out of sight, she leaned against the table as if out of breath and put her hand on Sonia's arm as if begging her to stop.

In a way, she was.

"What the hell do you think I'm supposed to do with that thing?" she whispered hoarsely, dark eyes glaring at her friend from under a spill of bangs yet still looking as if she was breathlessly amused over a shared joke. Not that she thought it was funny, no. "You know I don't know the first thing about .... about ... guns. Why not hand me a grenade while you're at it? And—Oh my god, Sonia. Is this thing even legal? Where the hell did you get it? How do you expect me to get it past security? I can't get bound by law, not now for pity's sake! Do you know the contracts I had to sign to get my project out there? I've sworn my life away on acres and acres of paper, too many to count, but I remember something about .... something ... like this. Oh my god, how can you ... What?!" she sputtered, finally running out of words.

Sonia waved off her concern. "Where you are going they're practically required. Just keep in locked up in your bag until you're off Ariel. They are common enough on Persephone you won't need to worry." She got a more serious look. "I hope you never do need to use it, but it can't hurt to wave it around if some Space Pirate comes trying to 'steal your booty'." She laughed at her own joke.

"I am just looking after you," Sonia continued, sober again. "Listen, I admire your courage. I would probably be willing to travel to one of the bigger worlds, Paquin, Beaumonde, Athens. They have something resembling civilization: showers, Cortex, electricity. But those failed colonies out on the Rim. Those people have been left practically alone for decades, longer. And ... I've heard from other reporters, that does something to a person. Not to mention the Spacers. Again, I don't mind a quick jaunt to the inner planets or, heck, a cruise on some liner ... but some dinky tramp freighter with a crew that spends all their time staring into the Black? No way."

"A Trans-U is not dinky. It's huge. And as dirty as I get in the lab and in the shop, I don't think a little Rim dirt will kill me. And besides, I ... Sonia, I ...," she faltered. It was starting to catch up with her now. The uncertainty. The danger. The fact that the most worldly-wise person she knew had just shoved a gun at her under a coffee shop table out of fear for her safety. "You know I'm not going out there alone. I will have help. You know that, don't you?" she asked softly when she got her voice back, visibly touched. Please don't say I'm crazy. Please. There was that in her voice too.

Sonia looks at her friend appraisingly. "Well maybe your sunny disposition will carry some luck with it. Besides if you don't like it you can wave your parents right? They could send you a ticket home?"

"Foster parents," Vikki corrected automatically. "And you know why I can't." Strictly speaking, they were her foster parents for only a year before they adopted her. They were from humble circumstances, frugal from necessity but lavish with their love. For that alone, Vikki felt she owed them everything and yet there was so much more. They sacrificed food from their mouths to feed her mind. They broadened her horizons by limiting theirs. Their devotion was unconditional, their support unstinting. Vikki was never made to feel a burden or that they were poor. She knew that she could never repay them but nevertheless she resolved early on to never be a hardship for them and to elevate them to a better life than the one they currently had. She loved them dearly and it was partly for that reason she worked so very hard to get where she'd come today and where she would go tomorrow.

"Well," Sonia said briskly. "You have MY number. First sign of trouble, you wave me. I'll pretend there is another revolution going on that I need to report on, and I'll come get you." She smiled, trying to reassure her friend, and herself. "I am probably making more of this than I should. You're going to have a great time, meet exciting people, marry a handsome pirate, while I am stuck here reporting the Sorghum futures..." She got up to hug her friend.

Vikki caught the worry behind Sonia's smile and quickly rose to envelop her friend in a bear hug. Being a smallish woman, it wasn't easy, but Vikki managed it.

"Hey," she breathed into Sonia's hair, holding her friend tight. "I'll be back before you know it. You'll turn around and won't believe I've been gone. As for falling in love with a pirate? Please." She stepped back and wrinkled her nose at Sonia in mock distaste before giving her a sly grin. "But I do have your number and if he's good looking enough, I'll give him yours."

HOW TO SPEAK RUSSIAN

Bozhe moi = Боже мой = Boh-zheh moy = My God! (exclamation) Sound clip

HOW TO SPEAK CHINESE

Húndàn = 混蛋 = Hwun-dahn = jerk, asshole Sound clip
Bèndàn = = Bun-dahn = Idiot, dimwit Sound clip

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