kilometers.
Nothing, in other words. For Ceres, the largest asteroid in the inner belt, was 380 kilometers across, before humans began to work her.
But room was not the essence of the station. For after all, he had made the station, yes? Information was her essence, the truth of that blossomed in him, the past as prologue-
He ambled along a corridor a hundred meters below Gray’s slag and muds, gazing down on the frothy air- fountains in the foyer. Day’s work done.
Even manifestations need a rest, and the interview with the smug Earther had put him off, sapping his resolve. Inhaling the crisp, cold air (a bit high on the oxy, he thought; have to check that), he let himself concentrate wholly on the clear scent of the splashing. The blue water was the very best, fresh from the growing poles, not the recycled stuff he endured on flights. He breathed in the tingling spray and a man grabbed him.
“I present formal secure-lock,” the man growled, his third knuckle biting into Benjan’s elbow port.
A cold, brittle thunk. His systems froze. Before he could move, whole command linkages went dead in his inboards. The station’s hovering presence, always humming in the distance, telescoped away. It felt like a wrenching fall that never ends, head over heels-
He got a grip. Focus. Regain your links. The loss! -It was like having fingers chopped away, whole pieces of himself amputated. Bloody neural stumps-
He sent quick, darting questions down his lines, and met… dark. Silent. Dead.
His entire aura of presence was gone. He sucked in the cold air, letting a fresh anger bubble up but keeping it tightly bound.
His attacker was the sort who blended into the background. Perfect for this job. A nobody out of nowhere, complete surprise. Clipping on a hand-restraint, the mousy man stepped back. “They ordered me to do it fast.” A mousy voice, too.
Benjan resisted the impulse to deck him. He looked Lunar, thin and pale. One of the Earther families who had come to deal with the station a century ago? Maybe with more kilos than Benjan, but a fair match. And it would feel good.
But that would just bring more of them, in the end. “Damn it, I have immunity from casual arrest. I-”
“No matter now, they said.” The cop shrugged apologetically, but his jaw set. He was used to this.
Benjan vaguely recognized him, from some bar near the Apex of the crater’s dome. There weren’t more than a thousand people on Gray, mostly like him, manifestations of the station. But not all. More of the others all the time… “You’re Majiken.”
“Yeah. So?”
“At least you people do your own work.”
“We have plenty on the inside here. You don’t think Gray’s gonna be neglected, eh?”
In his elbow, he felt injected programs spread, clunk, consolidating their blocks. A seeping ache. Benjan fought it all through his neuro-musculars, but the disease was strong.
Keep your voice level, wait for a chance. Only one of them-my God, they’re sure of themselves! Okay, make yourself seem like a doormat.
“I don’t suppose I can get a few things from my office?”
“ ’Fraid not.”
“Mighty decent.”
The man shrugged, letting the sarcasm pass. “They want you locked down good before they…”
“They what?”
“Make their next move, I’d guess.”
“I’m just a step, eh?”
“Sure, chop off the hands and feet first.” A smirking thug with a gift for metaphor.
Well, these hands and feet can still work. Benjan began walking toward his apartment. “I’ll stay in your lockdown, but at home.”
“Hey, nobody said-”
“But what’s the harm? I’m deadened now.” He kept walking.
“Uh, uh-” The man paused, obviously consulting with his superiors on an in-link.
He should have known it was coming. The Majikens were ferret-eyed, canny, unoriginal, and always dangerous. He had forgotten that. In the rush to get ores sifted, grayscapes planed right to control the constant rains, a system of streams and rivers snaking through the fresh-cut valleys… a man could get distracted, yes. Forget how people were. Careless.
Not completely, though. Agents like this Luny usually nailed their prey at home, not in a hallway. Benjan kept a stunner in the apartment, right beside the door, convenient.
Distract him. “I want to file a protest.”
“Take it to Kalespon.” Clipped, efficient, probably had a dozen other slices of bad news to deliver today. To other manifestations. Busy man.
“No, with your boss.”
“Mine?” His rock-steady jaw went slack.
“For-” he sharply turned the corner to his apartment, using the time to reach for some mumbo- jumbo-“felonious interrogation of inboards.”
“Hey, I didn’t touch your-”
“I felt it. Slimy little gropes-yeccch!” Might as well ham it up a little, have some fun.
The Majiken looked offended. “I never violate protocols. The integrity of your nexus is intact. You can ask for a scope-through when we take you in-”
“I’ll get my overnight kit.” Only now did he hurry toward the apartment portal and popped it by an inboard command. As he stepped through he felt the cop three steps behind.
Here goes. One foot over the lip, turn to the right, snatch the stunner out of its grip mount-
- and it wasn’t there. They’d laundered the place already. “Damn!”
“Thought it’d be waitin’, huh?”
In the first second. When the Majiken was pretty sure of himself, act-
Benjan took a step back and kicked. A satisfying soft thuuunk.
In the low gravity, the man rose a meter and his uungh! was strangely satisfying. The Majiken were warriors, after all, by heritage. Easier for them to take physical damage than life trauma.
The Majiken came up fast and nailed Benjan with a hand feint and slam. Benjan fell back in the slow gravity- and at a 45-degree tilt, sprang backward, away, toward the wall-
Which he hit, completing his turn in air, heels coming hard into the wall so that he could absorb the recoil-
- and spring off, head-height-
- into the Majiken’s throat as the man rushed forward, shaped hands ready for the put-away blow. Benjan caught him with both hand-edges, slamming the throat from both sides. The punch cut off blood to the head and the Majiken crumbled.
Benjan tied him with his own belt. Killed the link on the screen. Bound him further to the furniture. Even on Gray, inertia was inertia. The Majiken would not find it easy to get out from under a couch he was firmly tied to.
The apartment would figure out that something was wrong about its occupant in a hour or two, and call for help. Time enough to run? Benjan was unsure, but part of him liked this, felt a surge of adrenaline joy arc redly through his systems.
Five minutes of work and he got the interlocks off. His connections sprang back to life. Colors and images sang in his aura.
He was out the door, away-
The cramped corridors seemed to shrink, dropping down and away from him, weaving and collapsing. Something came toward him-chalk-white hills, yawning craters.
A hurricane breath whipped by him as it swept down from the jutting, fresh-carved mountains. His body strained.
He was running, that much seeped through to him. He breathed brown murk that seared but his lungs sucked it in eagerly.
