Chương 67: Chapter Sixty - It's Art

Spycraft was an art. At the moment, Ivil was staring at the artistic equivalent of a macaroni painting done by a particularly unskilled child.

"Hello, Pepper Mint," Ivil said. She smiled and extended a hand to shake. The young woman smiled guilelessly and shook. Which was when Ivil spread her awareness into Pepper Mint's body. Not so strongly that the woman would feel it as anything but an... impression of Ivil being somewhat intimidating, but enough for Ivil to suss out all of Pepper's potential, and also all of the cores she had within herself. It was a decent number.

Six active cores wasn't anything to sneeze at, and these seemed to all be working in concert, reinforcing each other in one way or another, or they were at least related. One core to mask core signatures--probably her most valuable--two cores interwoven with Pepper's nervous system, one to allow her greater control over bodily functions and micro-movements, the other... Ivil frowned as she read the core, but no, she wasn't incorrect. It was specifically designed to make someone sickly.

It would be temporary once activated, and likely not have any real side-effects. Interesting, that. It didn't seem like a completely natural core. A split of a hybrid? None of Pepper Mint's cores were originals. They all had the mark of being splits of splits. The other three were simple ones. One in her brain to assist with neural interfaces, one core spread through her spine, and a last lodged deep in her brain.

These three were control cores, usually somewhat useless, but in this case they enabled Pepper better control of her sickness-inducing core. This wasn't the work of coincidence. Most people who went around picking up cores through fights and wars did so somewhat haphazardly. One didn't often have a choice for which core they'd have access to. These worked together too well for that level of chaos and randomness. So they were a tailored choice.

"Pepper Mint comes with a decent referral and a good amount of experience," Aurora said with a kind smile.

"You have worked as a guide before, for this kind of event?"

"Yes!" Pepper said as she jumped. Was the woman startled? She tore her eyes away from Ivil and her expression was schooled into professional detachment.

"I've worked for several companies around Jupiter. I know the system and its moons well. I've made an extensive study of the culture of the many moons in this area as well."

"You can study that?" Twenty-Six asked.

"It's anthropology," Pepper Mint said.

"A subject I was always fond of."

"But you're not Jovian," Ivil Antagonist pointed out. The young woman blinked.

"You're... right, yes. I'm not Jovian." It was hard to guess at a person's origins. Well, it was sometimes hard to guess at a person's origins. Not to say that there was some cultural homogeneity across the stars, but it was frequently difficult to point to someone and guess at their origins with any accuracy. The exceptions were usually glaring, like the space clowns of Haumea.

Or people born in the poorer colonies who couldn't afford the medical care to ensure that their children weren't deformed by a complete lack of gravity. Pepper Mint was Martian, however, and Ivil knew this because there was every sign that the woman was a MINT operative. It was so unsubtle that it was almost comical, which in a way was its own sort of genius. Ivil couldn't berate MINT for putting this operative here...

well, she could, but it was so obvious that it wasn't possible to consider this any form of treachery.

"Oh! You're Martian too?" Twenty-Six asked.

"How did you know, Evelyn? Wait! Don't tell me. Is it because of the posture?"

"The posture?" Ivil asked. Twenty-Six nodded, then stood taller. She was a bit of a natural slumper, and Ivil was surprised to realise that Twenty-Six was almost as tall as she was. If she put any effort into standing properly Twenty-Six's gangliness might actually turn into some imposing height. Well, maybe just height. Twenty-Six was as imposing as an excited puppy.

"All of you Martians stand like this," Twenty-Six said.

"You mean, properly?" Aurora asked.

"I guess? You're one of them, so you'd know!"

"I'll have you know that I'm Phobosian. Not Martian," Aurora said.

"Oh, sorry." Twenty-Six cringed back a little, and Ivil couldn't resist reaching out to pat her on the head.

"You'll have to tell me more about Phobos! I know basically nothing about the place. You don't exactly make a lot of ships, you know?" Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"We do make some," Aurora defended.

"Mostly pleasure barges and yachts, but they're quite stunning to look at. In any case! Miss Mint, I was hoping you could guide us?" Pepper bowed slightly.

"Please, Miss Sterlingworth, call me Pepper. And yes, it would be my pleasure to guide you today." They had come out to meet Pepper in a public plaza right next to a shuttle terminal. It wasn't so different to a spaceport, though the security here was far more relaxed. After all, the people taking a shuttle from here were, at best, heading to another station in Callisto's orbit. There were a few likely on route to rendez-vous with some nearby spaceships, but that wasn't the problem of the Driftwood port authority.

Caring about immigration was only important on the receiving end for a place like Driftwood. People leaving? The station couldn't care any less. So outgoing security was nothing to be concerned about.

"Our shuttle is waiting for us in docking bay Four C," Pepper said.

"You'll note that it's not the same shuttle that you originally chartered. I took the liberty of booking another craft on its way to a different station with a layover at the station you were aiming to reach."

"Smart," Aurora said.

"You trust this change?" Ivil asked.

"It's not so unusual as far as security measures go. In fact, it's how I ended up on the Held Together in the first place. As long as Miss Mint was discreet about the change...."

"I was, ma'am," Pepper said.

"I understand that it's difficult to trust me so soon in our relationship, but please have confidence in me. It won't go amiss."

"Very well," Aurora said.

"The ship we were meant to board is in bay Four F, right?"

"Indeed. Unless anyone targeting you has observers very close by, we should be safe during transit. But the ship will be departing in..." Pepper glanced at a watch on her wrist.

"Twenty-eight minutes."

"That's barely any time at all," Twenty-Six said.

"The fourth bay is just there," Aurora said as she gestured to a passenger loading bay. There were indeed large numbers printed over the doors.

"Yeah, but I wanted to check the ship out first, just in case. These little shuttles always have the worst maintenance. Even the cheapest space-faring ship had better upkeep." They slipped into the bay, then had to wait their turn in a relatively short line where a bored young man looked over their electronic tickets before letting them through. There was an automated baggage check as well, but it all went by relatively quickly. Then they headed towards their ship.

Being a more civilian dock, there were several large windows overlooking the actual docking locations where the shuttles were being ferried in.

"Oh, that's a converted Super-Econ!" Twenty-Six said as she pointed to their shuttle. It was a long, tubular kind of ship, with a stubby control room at the bottom front and the loading airlock right above that. The ship was covered in several manoeuvring thrusters. The rear bulged out a little around a large engine, and a second, less impressively large thruster, sat at the very front for slowing the ship down.

A ship's airlock opened, a service drone pushed a cart with all of their baggage in, and then the passengers were finally allowed into the ship. Ivil was... not impressed. The centre of the ship was a long corridor with small booths on the sides. Within these were the cheapest acceleration chairs imaginable, all designed to unfold into incredibly uncomfortable seating spots for the remainder of their trip.

There was an automated drinks and food service, as well as washrooms so small that Ivil doubted her ability to fit into any one of them.

"Wow, this is incredible!" Twenty-Six said.

"It's... passable," Aurora replied.

"That you think it's incredible is incredible."

"Really? Why? I've never been a passenger on the shuttle like this before. Back around Saturn, if you wanted to get from one station to another, you hitched a ride on a service ship. There were even some people that would grab on with their EVA suits and hope that the accel wouldn't knock them loose!"

"Every time I talk to you I feel like we had very different upbringings," Aurora said. Twenty-Six smiled.

"Yeah, of course! Like I said, you're like a pretty yacht, all beautiful and sleek and pretty. I'm just an old beaten up tug."

"Does that analogy imply that you still want to shove her around and put her in her place?" Ivil asked. At least she'd have Twenty-Six's stuttering denials for entertainment, so things weren't looking too boring.