Testing The Waters
Our first game RP together! Woo! Thanks, Kim!--Maer.
Thick. The air was thick with emotions and she didn't need to be one of those "mythical" readers to know that. She could almost taste the chemicals on her tongue. The human body told so much, even if the face didn't. It took a truly gifted liar to not have their body betray them. It might be minute, it might take machines to detect it, but it would be there. The sturdy Russian was almost electric with emotion. No hiding that. No machine needed.
She paused in the passage to scratch an itch on her back and stretched. No doubt she would be coolly received or just plain shot, but she was a doctor and well, hell, Arden had been trying to figure out have to have her laid out on his table. Bleeding was a good as any reason. The pill was cool in her hand, a sedative that was gentle but rather effective. Maybe Rina had found her own sedative, but she did need an opening gambit to at least get in the woman's door. She reached Rina's door and knocked at fate.
***
Friday, 04 Jul 2521
Kuiper II class, Summer’s Gift
Lorngaard, Highgate
Blue Sun (Qing Long) system
2330hrs, local time
The grease cutter had made short work of the timeline and I was just mopping up the last of the pencil marks when the knock on my door distracted me. I knew immediately it wasn’t Joshua because he would have called out, removing any doubt. Ditto with Nika or Arden. Therefore it had to be Kiera. Although she and I got on amicably enough, we hadn’t yet taken to socializing outside ship tasks or mealtimes and her knocking on my door puzzled me. No need to wonder on it. You could let her in and solve the mystery. I was closer to my door than my bunk console and rather than talk via buzzer, I simply took three steps and opened my door.
“Yes?”
***
Ah, short bark, Kiera thought to herself. No friendly "hello," no "what?!!" to indicate that she’s truly pissed. Just "yes," punctuated and pronounced with that lovely accent. She's either just fine or damn bad off.
She held out the pill. "Just thought that you might be having trouble sleepin'. It's not as strong as the trank patch. Just a little bit of help if you need it. It also won't leave you dragged out and groggy in the morning. I know my drugs." She winked, knowing that though many thought it was a disarmingly friendly gesture, Rina could still just shoot her. She leaned against the doorframe, trying to look easy and friendly. Lord knows that it wasn't to rest; it was to roll out of the way if a gun appeared.
***
I regarded her for a second, taking in her posture, her words and her tone, what she did and didn’t say. She wants something. I eased my door wide and stepped back.
“Come in.”
***
Said the fly to the spider. Or was that backwards? Normally for her it wasn't. Kiera gestured at the door as she passed through. "Will I make you uncomfortable if I ask that you close that?" Ha! I'm not bleeding. . .yet. Pocketing the pill for a possible later, she couldn't help but look around the cabin. Around her, the cabin was spare and neat, nothing on the desk that screamed personal, no toys, no whimsy. A painted jamb caught her attention; she studied it for a moment longer than she wanted just to figure out why there was color there in the efficient and organized grayness. Was it … glowing a tiny bit where shadow hid it from the light?
Ah, clever girl! she thought with the sudden comprehension of the purpose of the paint. Clever and a bit paranoid. Well, I knew that. And I like that. Good in my world. And if I've surmised correctly, very good in her past world.
She closed the door without waiting for the answer, but did it slowly. Like a criminal, she had the feeling that sudden movements around Rina could be a bad idea. She took a deep breath and then dove in.
"So, you dated an information specialist?" The accent was just plain gone; she was tired of affecting it and using the Core accent and PC corporate title that her father had used for such people just seemed to allow both of them to ignore the meaning of her question if they felt like it.
***
Her uplifted syntax and tone made my ears perk up, and her euphemism for spy amused me. Very Coreside of her. It also told me that this wasn’t exactly a social call. She’s after something.
“Have a seat,” I said easily, gesturing at my bunk. “Bed’s cushiest but if you’d prefer the chair, that’s fine by me. I’ll just be a minute.”
I bent over the trash bag I’d stuffed with the litter from my timeline and tied it shut. The less she saw of it the better. Less questions that way. I folded my makeshift shop rag into a neat square and stowed it and the bottle of spray cleaner in my locker. Not the regular spot for either but it would do in a pinch. Besides, I had company.
“I’ve got water if you’d like. I generally keep a stash in here for convenience’s sake.” I smiled politely. “Or visitors.”
***
"Water's fine. Liquor's better." Kiera made her way to the bed since that was offered first. The desk was also the farther point from the door. She paused for a slow breath. "It's okay, you don't have to answer the question. I really don't care. It's a bit late now anyway, I'd guess." She settled onto the bed. "You took my old container apart. I wouldn't have been so nonchalant about you getting it if I had realized that you had a chance of figuring out what might have gone on in it. From the few times anyone ever pokes their head in, everyone else just thinks the easy clean surfaces and attachments are my idiosyncrasy, but medical crap nonetheless." She shrugged. "People see what they want to see or are just too polite to ask. Sometimes it is very, very wise to ask.
"So," she leaned forward, her green eyes glittering, "let me ask: Can I trust you?"
***
I removed two water bottles from my locker and handed her one. I broke the seal on mine and took a long pull on it, leaning against the wall I’d so recently cleaned. I hadn’t missed her discreet scoping out of my quarters or the oblique way she referred to Mike’s profession. Nor did I miss that she was worried about what I’d gathered of hers.
Certainly the surfaces in the container were easy to clean and maintain, and there were several appliances that made the space even more versatile. For instance, I’d seen the chair. Straps and rigid restraints, waterproof upholstery, and the entire thing adjustable to just about every conceivable angle the human body was capable of achieving—and a few it was not. Based on her comments on Arden’s appearance, I knew she was in the face trade, the profession of cosmetic plastic surgery, and it didn’t take much imagination to see how it could benefit patients on both sides of the law. More to the point, her skills and flexible morals coupled with a willingness to use pharmaceuticals tactically made Kiera someone to watch carefully. I hadn’t forgotten that this was the woman who’d tranqued me without my knowledge or consent and had just now shown up on my doorstep offering yet another sample from her chemical arsenal. And less than thirty seconds later wanted to know if she could trust me.
She wants something. But what? Trust? Silence? Complicity?
I sipped my water and eyed her narrowly past the bottle and screwed the cap back on before replying.
“Depends.” I opened my locker and put the bottle on the shelf next to my gun. I braced both hands against the jamb and slid a look at the woman on my bunk. “Can I trust you?”
***
"Sure. You help me make some money, then we're just fine. I send a fair amount your way, I'm gonna assume that at that point we've got some love and trust going. If I cheat you, then trust is the least of my worries. As you've probably noticed, in my world, you gotta make it good if you fail a "friend." I won't try to fail you." She brightened, abruptly seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room. "Who did all that coloring to the knobs in this ship? Was it you? That's pretty darn clever!"
Damn, but I've got to wind this down somewhat, Kiera thought to herself. The little lady is coiled like a snake now. Lord knows what she's got in that locker.
***
I heard the compliment and let it slide. It was a distraction tactic. I was more interested in what she wanted. Having watched Kiera for a while now, chances were more than good the reason for her visit would somehow involve money. I went over everything so far and gleaned the pertinent details.
Information specialist. Container features. Deals with Byshek, likely has underworld connections. Wants me to help her make money...Wait. Information specialist.
"I'm not in the information specialist trade anymore, Kiera. Haven't been since the war. What exactly do you want me to do for you?"
***
And there it was. The Opening. She dove for it. "Flesh can be changed Rina. It's so very easy to change flesh. But electrons, not so much. Occasionally, I have a client that would like to change. I don't ask questions. If instead of forcing them to come to me and then go elsewhere to complete the transformation ... if it could all be done at once, then that would be good. I don't know if this is something that you'd be comfortable with. But considering what I've sussed together, I figured you might be able to point me towards some help." She rose to her feet. "I don't need an answer now. You've got a lot on your plate."
Leaning over, she left the pill on the bed. "Thanks for the water. I'll be in my container if you wanna talk. But I'd sleep if I were you and leave," she inclined her head to the tied trash bag, "the trash for tomorrow." Moving towards the door, she braced to be shot.
***
I knew Kiera was no angel. Neither was I. I also knew that while Kiera was willing to help us out to keep us flying, it was more out of a genuine need to remain mobile and not genuine sentiment. With her, it was always about the business and I had no illusions that the second we ceased to be useful, she’d drop us and find someone else willing to transport her. She didn’t strike me as being desirous of becoming crew and I had to admit, had she petitioned the Captain for it, I would have advised against it. And then there was the separation between passengers and crew, despite the help she’d given us, and Kiera had just crossed the line by asking me to help her in her business. As crew, I was obligated as the engineer to keep our ship in working order, to see that we didn’t all die explosively or otherwise. What she was asking me to do was considerably outside my job description.
Why would she risk her operation like that? Why leave herself open to blackmail? There’s just one way to find out.
“Kiera.” I pushed off my locker and closed it up. I wasn’t going to need the gun. Yet. “I’ll think about it but let me make one thing perfectly clear: if you get us involved in anything that puts my crew on the chopping block, you better hope the Feds find you first. They’ll kill you quickly. I promise you I won’t.”
***
Kiera grinned. "Feds? Who is worried about those pantywaists? They are way down on the totem pole of pain." The grin widened and finally expanded into a full laugh. "But I do fear the stress-induced high blood pressure that you will inflict on me until I die of a stroke. Yes, lady, I do fear that slow death." She opened the door and went out into the passage.
***
I grabbed the pill off my bunk and leaned out into the corridor.
"Kiera," I called out and lobbed the pill to her.
***
Kiera caught and pocketed the tiny projectile. "You still need to sleep. Your eyes are as dark as your hair," she drawled over her shoulder. "Gonna need a facial and heaven knows, those nails. . . .One day you'll learn to trust your cosmetologist!"
***
I made no comment but let her go. She liked baiting people to see what she could tweak out of them. I shut the door on her back and gusted a sigh.
Barely done with one worm can when the Universe hands me another. I cast an eye to the pipes and conduits overhead. Not appreciated. Just so you know.
I thunked my forehead to the door and threw the lock. Information specialist. Colorful phrase. Damn woman's a matroushka, one woman inside the other, and God knows how far down she goes.
I returned to my locker and grabbed the cleaning supplies and picked up the bag on my way out. Might as well take out the garbage before turning in. Kiera's sounding me out would not be as easily dealt with, however, and I saw again her green eyes glittering and her voice, Coreside-clear of any accent: Can I trust you?
The question followed me as I stowed the supplies and dumped the trash. It echoed in my thoughts as I lay in my bunk sussing the angles of Kiera’s offer. It was some time before sleep finally overtook me.
***
Go back to: Timeline Season Four, April 2521 to Dec 2521
Go to Peripatetica - Rina's Journal entry and RP log
Go to Rina's Russian Glossary
Go to Rina's Crew Page
Go to EPISODES or TIMELINE
