Steal the Demon: A Science-Fiction Novella by Robert Roth (free novels to read txt) 📕

different options it offered. Instead of activating the full suit, she chose a partial activation. The suit extruded downward from the harness, covering her lower body like a pair of overalls, down to the boots. She nodded, satisfied, then reached around and fixed the knife sheath to the back of the suit at waist level where it was out of the way but still easily accessible.

She attached her slim gear bag right below the sleek, black air tank before fixing that all onto the back of her harness. Then she stuffed the QED node into a pouch on her belt. Finally, she grabbed the Al-Zamani coverall and stepped into it, running a finger along the stick-seam to close it up. It fit over everything else she was wearing well enough, but there were no full-length mirrors in her compartment to check how she looked, just the shitty mirror in the head. She assumed it wasn’t all that flattering, but it would have to do. She debated for a moment keeping the High Orbit Mechanical jacket, but there was really no need. She could always find another if she really wanted one. So she wadded it up with the rest of the clothing and boots from her disguise and stuffed them into the recycler chute. After one more look around the compartment to make sure that she wasn’t missing anything, she turned off the light, and stepped out of the room into the corridor outside. Once the rental time she’d paid for elapsed, the key in her wrist ID would automatically expire, so that was done.

A quick time check showed her that she was right on schedule. She opened a comm channel to Paradox. “I’m headed to meet up with the shuttle pilot,” she subvocalized.

“I’m ready for you,” came his reply. “I’m already monitoring shuttle comms, just in case there are any issues. I suggest we leave this channel open for the duration of the op.”

“Agreed.”

“Excellent. I’ll be here when you need me, then.”

She connected with her hand terminal remotely and accessed the data for the meeting with Ernesto. The station coordinates indicated a location back down on the transit level. She pulled up the local Net’s station layout and discovered two main sections on that level–one for general business, and one exclusively used by Al-Zamani. She headed for the lifts and grabbed one down to the transit level, which was still as crowded as it had been the night before. Kimiko wondered where everyone was coming from. She’d never imagined that Davida would be such a busy place. But she reminded herself it was a Confederation station and, as Uncle Shinzo would sometimes say, it took a lot of parts to spin the Corporate Confederation machine. But Kimiko felt comfortably anonymous. With the Al-Zamani uniform on, she seemed to blend right in. No one gave her a second glance.

The meetup point turned out to be a shuttered storefront. The signage had all been removed, and the holo emitters were turned off. Kimiko didn’t know what it was when it was still in business, but it either hadn’t appealed to the locals or was driven out of business by one or another of the Confederation’s ruthless corps. She was a little early, so she parked herself up against a blank spot of wall and pulled out her hand terminal, trying to look innocuous. There was a message from Mirabel, letting Kimiko know that she and Keon had recently found themselves in a family way, as Mirabel put it. She also received a reply from Kenji telling her that, of course, he would look after her old gear, and asking what she’d replaced it with. Kimiko composed a quick reply to Mirabel, sending her congratulations and letting her know that, if she was even half the parent to her new child that she’d been with the crew, that the kid would be in great hands. She left Kenji’s message unanswered. There would be plenty of time to deal with that after the op.

“Your contact is approaching,” Paradox announced. She looked up and scanned the area, then saw Ernesto emerge from the crowd. Paradox was taking his overwatch role seriously, which she appreciated. Ernesto saw her notice him and raised a hand in greeting. She did the same in return, then put her handheld away.

“Sup, Kimiko,” he said once he was within earshot. “I love the new uniform. What’s that old saying about dressing for the job you want, not the one you have?”

She smirked, then looked down at her borrowed coveralls. “Yeah, well, a joe can dream, right?”

He laughed and then looked down at his matching coverall. “If you keep practicing very hard, one day you, too, could spend every shift flying back and forth between two metal cans floating around a big rock.”

She laughed in return. “It’s enough just to spin in your orbit, Ernesto.”

Ernesto looked at her empty hands questioningly. “Where’s your helmet?”

She tapped the collar ring under her coverall. “Right here, old man. What? Did you think I was gonna hold my breath the whole way?”

He chuckled, then shrugged. “You kids and your gadgets. As long as it works, then, fine. So, are you ready for this?” She nodded. “Okay, then we should get moving. Al-Zamani likes to keep to their schedules. Follow me.” He started to walk away, and she fell into place next to him. “I’ll take you in through the human-staffed Security checkpoint,” he added, quietly, as they walked along. That made sense. Both people and machines could be fooled. They just involved different methods. “My friend Gondo Muzorewa is working the staff counter today, and he’s okay. We’ll tell him that I’m ferrying you over to the Yard because you haven’t been given your credentials yet. Al-Zamani is big enough that it will sound plausible, at least.”

“Sounds greased up enough.”

“If Gondo wants any details from you, just make something up that sounds believable. Anything except piloting. Pilots never transfer over on the cargo shuttles.”

“I understand.”

He