The entryway beeped.
It was too early for the miners to return. Only on holidays, or when there was a problem in production did they arrive early, and usually there was some warning.
Betta wasn’t tall enough to see through the windows at the top of the sealed doors. Instead, she climbed one of the bunks and looked down the corridor to see masked men with pulse rifles scurrying toward her position.
What gripped and froze her to the spot was something close to absolute terror. For a moment, she only shook, watching the men get closer, their movements organized, staring down the long halls before the entryway doors that led to the bunks.
What was the point of accessing the bunks? There was nothing for them to take here. This slowed her racing heart a fraction. Maybe they were looking to rob the other shops and areas that were connected. Who could she call? Daddy wouldn’t be able to reach her from the Red District. The only way she could contact him was through the console, and his responses were always slow. In three cycles, she’d never left the bunks, and she didn’t really know where she could hide in the facility, or who to trust, even if she could leave the sealed doors.
With a tight nod, she knew there was only one way out. Betta ran to the console and placed a call to the local feds on Arys-27. Immediately, a man, his eyes devoid of white, only black, popped up on the console. A transparent cap where his hair and skull should be, flickered with different shades of blue dots.
“I read an incursion in your area. Are you contacting us to report the incursion as improper?” His emotionless voice startled her.
Betta tried to speak, but the words were trapped. She grunted, clearing her swollen throat. “I’m in Bunk Area C, in the Yellow District,” she whispered softly. “They have rifles—”
The final entryway beeped and Betta ran to the other end of the chamber, not bothering to stay near the console or hear the response of the feds. She climbed under one of the far bunks, curled into a ball, and shut her eyes tightly.
The electronic doors slid half-way open before they slammed to a stop. Several figures in black flak suits rushed into the room, green lasers sweeping the room before someone announced, “I’ve got something on the far end. Might be a Hyn, no weapons. Come on out or I shoot. You! Under the bunk.”
“Console’s open.” Another announced, “Looks like they called the feds.”
A third figure slammed the console with the butt of his rifle. Betta rolled out of her hiding spot. She stood slowly.
“You… you’d better… r-run!” Her tongue got in the way of the words and she drew on some inner fire she’d never felt before. “They’ll be here any second. Their response time is crazy!”
“She’s just a kid.” The lead figure chuckled. “Some idiot smuggled a kid on this fekjed planet. She’s right, though. Move out!”
The figures behind the leader blurred out of her sight. Her mind, that part of her that felt separate since she exited the stasis pod she was smuggled in, identified these men as Enhanced.
“Good luck, kid, but I think you just made it worse for yourself,” the last man in the flak suit said. He too was gone in a streak of black.
Betta watched, mouth open, as the lines of black converged through the empty corridor, and then vanished. She looked back to the smoking console, then allowed her trembling legs the freedom to give out, falling to her knees. The pain barely registered.
When she looked up again, the chamber was filled with federal agents. The transparent blue caps and black body armor was difficult to focus on. Some form of camouflage, she suspected. Their rifles all pointed at Betta. At least a dozen blackened eyes studied her silently. She knew they communicated through secured frequencies that she could not perceive, so she waited quietly.
No longer afraid, though several rifles pointed at her head, Betta stood again. She studied the intense stare of the federal agents in turn. Their black sockets revealed nothing, but the increased flickering lights of their transparent skull caps hinted that something was happening. The excited dance slowed en-masse and the agents lowered their rifles. They formed lines on either side of her.
There was now an open path between the lines of armored men and women. A man in a dark blue suit with a matching tie and a styled hair-cut, walked slowly toward her. He was of olive-complexion, like most Humans she’d met on Arys-27, but his jaw was cut so precisely she thought it must be some artificial affectation.
The man smiled and his green irises reflected the glints of light that stood to either side.
“And what might be your name, little one?” he asked.
“Betta,” she replied.
“Hmm.” His green eyes moved with some inner light. “I see. Daughter of George Perry Reganta. Betta was reported dead on Old Earth over a decade ago, along with George’s wife and two sons. Are there any other members of the Reganta family here?”
Betta’s heart lurched at the news. She knew her mother must be dead, but she had held out hope that her brothers were alive, smuggled onto some other planet.
“No. I don’t think even George could smuggle a whole family off Old Earth. Back-track the timeline. Look at the inventory on the transport vessel. Let’s see.” She could see the pinpricks of greenish dots now moving in a flurry against his pupils. “Oh yes. There it is.” He laughed. “An android stasis crate? Yet there are no registered androids on Arys-27. It’s… I have no words… risky? Your head okay, Betta? A ten-year journey in an android stasis crate. I can’t find any cases where the occupant didn’t go insane. If this is how your father—”
“My father is a great man!” The words came to her mouth regardless of the voice in the back of her mind warning caution. “He saved me! Pilo Corporation killed Momma… and my brothers. Daddy saved me!”
The man blinked, the light vanishing behind his eyes. “Pilo Corporation. Hmm.” The light returned. “Yes. Yes. That looks likely. Given the circumstances, I believe it does give us some room. Liability for their deaths, including your death, little one, is listed under Pilo Pharmaceuticals. Your father never accepted the settlement. This has led to an accrual and interest. Illegal transport, smuggling, and endangering a minor are possible charges we can lay against your father.”
“No,” Betta said quietly.
“Hmm. You know, Betta. Old Earth is like the old west these days. No one, and I mean no one, is allowed off-planet. The place is covered in plague. There’s no medication that can halt it. The viruses and bacteria have evolved to the point where a normal Human immune system cannot fight it. You’d most likely be dead or fighting for your life if George had not taken action. So, you are right, he did save you. In fact, he also wiped you clean by putting you in that stasis crate.”
Betta felt an in-flux of pride for her father, tinged with guilt. Had she put him at risk by calling the feds? She eyed this man with his clean suit and handsome features. He studied her in turn. If her father was at risk, what was the point of talking to her?
“What do you want from me?” Betta asked.