The same damn dream. Papi disappearing into the noise and the acrid smoke, throwing promises over his shoulder as he slid down the companionway to find Mami. The sudden lurch as the escape pod blew away from the Diamanté, the hot blossom of flame as her fusion bottle failed, and the bright copper smell of blood before I passed out.
I woke up soaked in sweat and chilled. When I tried to move, my ribs reminded me that they were broken. My head swam and I could still barely move. And I really wanted to get out of here. What I was in was supposedly a clinic, if you could give that name to someplace so run down. The disinfectant did it’s best, but it still smelled faintly of old blood, rust, and urine. And all I could do was lie there, shivering, and counting up all the people I’d lost.
All that crying I’d done when I first woke up was nothing. Somehow, it kept getting more and more real. And permanent. Far too permanent. I realized how big my ‘family’ had really been. I remembered Atkins showing me magic tricks in the engine room. Circe letting me watch over her shoulder as she plotted the Diamante’s course, all the while explaining everything she did. Lietta, Circe’s wife and our cook, who always seemed to have snacks ready when I came into the galley hungry. Conner telling me to get out of the cargo bay – trying to pretend he was angry, but with a twinkle in his brown eyes.
“And how are you this morning?”
I opened my eyes at the sound of Doc’s gravely tenor voice. He hadn’t shaved again this morning. And I was pretty sure he hadn’t changed the ratty old lab coat he’d worn since I got there. The place was a dump and he looked as poor as his patients.
“Everything still hurts,” I said.
He pulled up a chair and sat in it backwards, his arms resting easily on the back. He flipped bangs of his salt and pepper hair out of his granite gray eyes. A long, roman nose, a jaw that was a little too square — the rest of his features were nothing to write home about, but those eyes could pin you down.
“Do you want pain meds?” He asked.
I shook my head – slowly. “No, thanks.”
“Why not?” He asked, laughing. “It’s not going to make that big a difference in your bill.
“What is it today?” I asked.
Doc pulled out an old pocket comp that looked as disreputable as the coat. The fake metal coating on the plastic trim was mostly worn off. “Let’s see, another day’s bed fee, that’s 200,” he mumbled. “Three more doses of Xylacillan, that’s 210. Another rad purge treatment, that’s 500. Hmm, brings you up to 32,480 credits.”
I did the math in my head. At roughly 900 a day, I must’ve been here over a month. I remembered about four days. “How long was I out?” I asked.
“Oh, about three days.”
I must have scowled because he laughed.
“Ahh, you’re forgetting the surgery to fix that subdural hematoma.” He shook his finger at me. It was like he was trying to be funny. “You would have died without me drilling that hole in your skull. What’s your life worth to you? I think 15,000 is cheap!”
A part of me wondered what he had drilled the hole with. Then I decided I didn’t want to know. I suppose he had a point, but my life didn’t look to be very nice going forward. I had no idea how long an indenture 32 kCs would buy, but hell, I could buy an old short haul freighter for that kind of money.
“Besides,” he went on, “I paid 5,000 to the scags that brought you in. To be honest, I almost didn’t – you were in pretty bad shape and I figured to lose that money, but…” He shrugged.
He seemed to get serious after that. He shook his head slowly, then looked at me. “You can’t think of anyone who’ll pay your way out of this?”
Everyone I knew blew up with the Diamanté. My family and friends — everything we owned was now just so much plasma drifting through the Sarin system. Mami had a step-sister someplace back on Nuevo Rico, but they hadn’t spoken since she married my Dad. I wasn’t likely to get any help there, even if I knew where she lived. Hell, I don’t even remember Tia Rose’s married name.
“My family are all dead. You’re looking at everything I own.”
“Hmm, not quite. Your pressure suit was a bloody mess and they didn’t bother to strip it. It’ll take some doing, but I think you can fix it up enough to keep you alive if we lose pressure. Otherwise it isn’t worth much, really, so you might as well keep it.”
“Thanks, you’re great.” The sarcasm was thick and he took it badly. His eyes turned cold as stone.
“Listen, let me tell you something. I could have left you with those scags and more than likely they’d have used you ’til you got cold and then spaced what was left. I didn’t. Instead I saved your life. Right now you’re business. But you can get through this. I don’t sell to slavers. Or brothels. So more than likely the worst that will happen is you’ll work hard for a few years. Keep your wits about you and you can make a place for yourself here.”
“Stay here? Why?” I couldn’t believe he was serious.
“Or don’t. Extend your contract for a year or so and buy passage out. You wouldn’t be the first. Jumble isn’t for the faint of heart.”
He leaned back, some of the intensity gone. “Look. This isn’t Confed space — not really. There’s a kind of peace here, but it’s fragile and it doesn’t extend to outsiders. You’ll be better off working for one of the local ‘businessmen’. They’ll take care of you until your contract’s up.”
“So you’re not selling me into slavery, you’re only looking out for me. Wonderful.” I said. “I suppose you think this makes you the ‘good guy’.”
“No,” he said. “Just better than some around here.” He got up and swung the chair back against the wall. “This is the best deal you’re going to get, bad as it is, and I don’t expect you to be grateful.”
“Yet,” He added as he walked out the door.