Selba Prime Concern
This Day in History: 2514he
It was this day in 2514he, that the Colonial Government joined the Federation of Races as a full member. Doing so was based on the universal ratification of the Federation Bill of Advanced Life, which requires many large regulations on sales of goods, but is most remembered for the outright ban of production on full AI android models, or Frees.
This protocol, first championed by the Z'arkadar race, was a major take for the new human government. Frees were used extensively, and to the major protest of the Z'arkadar ambassadors to the Central7, as free labor and front line troops during the Colonial Wars.
After escalating threats of attack by more extreme factions of the Z'arkadar government, partially backed by the other High Races after a friendly fire attack on the Tellurian Settlement on Andromeda IV in 2510he led to thousands of casualties, this ban made all Frees currently in function, or any partially in progress at the time of ratification, full citizens of the planet on which they were produced. Free advocates mark this day as a turning point in AI-Human relations.
Colanaman is the fifth planet in the Nuro-Nuro System, the system’s name being derived from the twin stars at its core, which is also why the colonization of Nuro-Nuro never really took off. LaGrange calculations are intensely difficult in a multi-star system, and with only one somewhat mineable atmosphere and two habitable planets (if you consider the ice planet Issiminst to be habitable, which only the Fiod do) the monetary policy just isn’t there. That said, Colanaman is a perfectly habitable planet in a reasonably situated area of the galaxy, so of course eventually the colonists would come. Colanaman is about twice the size of Earth, having roughly the same percentage of land to water, it sits at a good inclination to the bigger Nuro twin, and has decent weather if one avoids the coasts during the tsunami season when the Nuros tend to fight over the world’s oceans. A better planet for growing a solid crop and living in the throw-back lifestyle that was all the rage two hundred years ago was just not developing at that point, so a big group of survivalists and biogenetic purists packed up ships from the Central7 and took huge tracts of land and built ungodly messes of various geneered (no one could find an actually organic seed-line at this point if they wanted) crops to harvest using the newest servitor threshers, harrowers and whatever else the ships bring in to the tradeshows in the capital city of Minat.
Pepper lands without incident in Minat’s lone spaceport, a relatively new gravsling set in the outskirts of town, where such things really should always be placed when you really think about it. Apocalypse proves to be somewhat helpful, as her World access allows Pepper to focus on checking for tails while she leads them to this baggage terminal and that taxi-service leading to such and such hotel near the beach, which Pepper didn’t remember having placed reservations for until he checked his account and realized that he had done it during one of the moments where he had been attempting to ignore how bitchy this robot is and had decided a unobstructed ocean view might be nice.
“Are you getting in the fucking elevator?”
“Yes dear.” Pepper moans, lugging several suitcases full of shit he had bought to make it look like he was taking a supermodel (while simultaneously looking like he is taking an old woman) to a colonizing world, and that would be a lot of shit. Apocalypse, despite presumably being stronger than Pepper, is just carrying her purse. And tapping her foot. Pepper doesn’t remember the real Sunshine being this way, he was sure he had saved her from Stardust for a reason, while now he is waiting the seconds until she catches up and places a fucking bullet so—deep… Regardless, monitoring e-queries and interference, he has no evidence she followed them.
This move is pretty dependent on it working, as if she didn’t take the bait, and did find Sunshine, the real one…well, not good things will be happening to a pretty girl on his account. Perhaps cuntbot is some sort of penance for what he’s probably putting Sunshine through right now. That’s when he hears her. Laughing just a little, in the bar behind him to the left. He would recognize her laugh literally anywhere because she laughed then. When they were leaving that godforsaken station behind, bodies floating out of airlocks here and there, she was giggling quietly. The sound turns his stomach as he throws the bags into the elevator and waits for the door to close without him.
“I was wondering how long it would take you.” Pepper says, pulling the composite pistols from his ‘gut’, not turning around, seemingly talking to the elevator that just left.
“Your neighbor was pretty forth coming as to your next choice of venue. Then it was just a simple torture session in the Red Light District, and here I am.” Stardust is carrying at least A gun, the man she is with is whimpering. A couple of women are sobbing, the World traffic is ridiculous. People calling for help, which means Lances on their way. Lances who will allow the Hunt to continue, and therefore will be of no help to Pepper.
“You kill him?”
“Porn monkey? Chili Hobo? Or are we both talking about my new boyfriend – What was your name again?”
“Mar- mar—“
“My boyfriend Marmar. Honey, consider a name change.”
“I… uh…”
“Women like men of action, try not to talk while the adults are speaking, eh?”
“The homeless man, bitch.” Pepper hisses.
“No I didn’t kill your precious destitute, don’t throw a rod.”
“Come out here. Leave those people alone.”
“Yeah, no. Come in here, have a drink. Bring your new girlfriend, I do so ever want to properly meet her. I owe her a little something.”
“Bitch.”
“Huh? I can’t hear you, I’m having a lovely conversation with this—“
“I-investment banker… I uh... I have a family…” Pepper looks for cover. The elevators are in an open hallway, left behind leads to some doors, presumably the kitchen judging from placement. Right behind leads to a hall, probably guest quarters and then outside to the beachfront area. Directly reverse, there is the bar on his left, the front desk on his right, a fountain directly straight that sits in an open atrium to the front doors. So outside is out, he’d have to go in front of the bar, risking ‘family man’ as well as any other patrons and his own ass. Front desk isn’t protected by anything, no physical rico so no shielding either. So it is left to kitchen, right to rooms, or up the elevator. He presses the up button as he mulls it over.
“That’s not what you told me a minute ago, Marmar.” Stardust chuckles, the man is officially crying and probably wetting himself. Some people start running for the front doors, providing good covering sounds for Pepper to make a decision during.
“Regardless, I find your presence disgusting. Could you go? I think my eye caught some other fishy.” A crack of her pistol on bone, the man runs for the doors. “Honey, I’m coming to you now. Be sure to have a big wet kiss waiting for me.” She purrs as the walks around the wall backing the bar, but as she points her guns ahead it isn’t hard to see that Pepper is no longer there.
“So that’s how it’s going to be is it.” Stardust smirks, and runs towards the elevators. As she gets close, the doors open, but no one is inside. So it’s a left or right sort of thing. Beach or kitchen, beach or kitchen… Kitchen has more cover, and like knives or boiling water, but this isn’t a Hong Kong action movie and throwing a frozen fish at her isn’t going to keep the gun from going off. Beach is pretty much coverless, but there are the various bungalows, and if you get outside first you could feasibly set yourself up and drown the exits in bullets as soon as someone pops up.
Stardust attempts to think how Pepper would think, as she is one hundred percent positive she would have gone for the front door and stolen a car in his situation. What would someone who actually plans ahead do? Stardust heads left for the beach, but as she turns away from the elevator and rounds the corner towards the hallway behind, something hits her in the sma
ll of her back. Something small and round.
“FUCK!” Stardust dashes for the hallway, attempting to put distance between herself and the grenade. She keeps running for a good fifteen seconds, before she realizes that the grenade never happened. “Goddamn motherfucking piece of motherfucking—“
As Stardust dashes for her life, Pepper pulls himself out of the elevator shaft on the fifth floor. When the big scatter happened before, Pepper had lowered himself into the shaft, and when the doors had opened for Stardust, he was clinging underneath. He had hoped that she didn’t stay watching the elevator for too long, as he had wedged it open for the next bit. Wait a few seconds for the elevator to be called by Apocalypse, throw his fake tumor at her (part of the disguise to make his gut look real to the scanners at the spaceport), and escape.
“Where is she?” Apocalypse asks, sort of frantic sounding, as she pulls Pepper from his perch.
“I’d say she is aware that it wasn’t a grenade, but she has yet to figure out where we are.”
“So…”
“She could be anywhere. That girl does the first thing that comes to her mind, every time.”
“How do you fight that?”
“Fuck if I know. Right now, I say we find a way to get out of here. There are too many unplanable variables in this location. She’s going to find our room in probably about twenty seconds, she’ll be up here in about one minute. We don’t have the firepower to handle her without potentially harming others, and I have to keep up the illusion that you are still the real deal, but it would help if we both worked together, and it’s not exactly like she…” Pepper isn’t really talking to Apocalypse anymore, running numbers and scenarios in his head as fast as he can. Apocalypse takes this time to go through their luggage, pulling out a shotgun from her dresses, a few hack mines from his boxers, a pistol from a shoe, and a taser-whip from an umbrella’s staff. They have some weapons at least, Pepper notes while watching her place them calmly in front of him one at a time. He has to get Stardust, find a way to take her off the board, at least temporarily, before going back for Sunshine.
“What do we have here?” A man walks up to them; Apocalypse grabs the nearest gun and points it at the man. The safety light is still illuminated, Pepper stands. He is a tall thin man with grey hair, although he looks to be only thirty five, forty at the most. He has a stern look to him. Federali.
“Apocalypse, hold it. Did you get called when someone pulled the alarms or eS’d for help or something?”
“Nothing like that. I heard the woman here has something that everyone is looking for and— Is that an android duplicate?” He says with a very high level of anger behind it. Whoever told him that this Hunter had the girl is going to get demoted to the highest position possible on the most backward station in the Sprawl. Pepper smirks. Managed to fool the Federalis too.
“No. What?”
“Jewel of the Ancients.”
“You think she stole it?” Pepper starts laughing. Shit, time constraints. Pepper squats quickly, opens and closes his hands then points at the tazer, the sign for ‘give me’ which is also pretty universal in known space. Sunshine throws the tazer at Pepper, and puts the pistol in her front pocket. Pepper puts the tazer down the back of his pants, and offers a hand for shaking to the agent.
“Peppermint White Ninja. I’d really like to have a long detailed discussion on how this is all a misunderstanding, but there is a hit on this young lady here. And one on myself as well. There is also a very angry young woman on her way up here this very instant, and she has at least one gun and the intent to kill the both of us. She will kill you if you get in the way, I might add. So I recommend we work on getting the absolute fuck out of here as soon as possible, and then afterwards, perhaps a light lunch where we can further discuss whatever the hell brought you all the way out here, Agent…”
“Lipservice. There is an operations elevator in the janitor’s closet. Let’s go.” Agent Lipservice grabs Apocalypse by the wrist and starts running. Pepper drops his fake stomach and pockets his two pistols, grabbing the shotgun off the ground and chases after. He gives Lipservice and Apocalypse the ‘shut off your shit’ sign, and as the doors close he triggers the hackmines and slags any computer in the hotel that is presently attached to the World. Which includes their elevator, which starts an unhealthy plummet.
“Any ideas?” Lipservice screams sort of late, as Pepper is already jumping up and out of the top of the elevator. He grabs Apocalypse and Lipservice scrambles up. They have a good fifteen seconds to get this right. So no pressure. Pepper had, luckily, been planning this before they met Lipservice, and the one problem he had was not enough people. Elevators are run on maglifter technology, a technology somewhat complex to explain, but involving blackholes and revert gravitational something or other. Regardless, there are units on the top and bottom of every elevator that handle that up and down via push and pull mechanics that are much easier to explain. Pepper has fifteen seconds to remove the unit, activate it with the tazer and hope that he can figure out how to turn it off before it slams them through the roof.
Pepper and Lipservice start shooting the roof of the elevator, Apocalypse grabs the central orb unit and starts to pull, trusting the boys to aim. It springs free and Pepper tazes it as he activates his World-access, the unit shudders in Apocalypse’s hands. Her skin burns slightly, but she doesn’t let go. Lipservice grabs her left leg and Pepper her right, and they stop falling. Pepper can’t get the unit to respond to his e-query, so the shock only gets it to do what it would normally do in a situation where access was down and power on, that being stop. So they are stuck clinging to a woman’s legs in an elevator shaft. Then the elevator hits the bottom, a mind shattering blast of sound hits them, and Pepper almost loses his grip. Bits and pieces of metal hit them from below, but nothing substantive.
“What now?” Lipservice sort of grunts, realizing he can still hear.
“My arms are going to give in about three minutes, I’d recommend a decision before that happens.” Pepper’s eButler picks up some high-level hacking software probing the area. Stardust is still looking for them. How she avoided the EM pulse is beyond comprehension.
“Taken into consideration. Looks like we are halfway between the second and first floors.” A drop of about twenty feet into a pile of sharp metal, they could live. However, they cannot fall down to the bottom floor. Any injury would only result in their deaths. Stardust was supposed to be blinded by the pulse, but as she isn’t, this is going to have to be done with a lot more finesse. They cannot just go handing themselves to her on broken elevator platters.
“Okay, I love a good dangle, but could we be going somewhere?” Apocalypse says icily.
“This thing has slagged software functionality, all I can do is shock it into doing its lower level functions. Without being able to instruct it on anything else, we’re just stuck here…” Pepper says, only partially to other people. Plans unfurling in his head, attempting to think of which is least likely to kill them. Or result in Stardust killing them.
“Well, I was going to use us both to… wait. This could still work.” Pepper adjusts his grip on Apocalypse’s right shin. “I’m going to swing my legs, try not to get kicked.”
Lipservice adjusts his holding pattern to the back of Apocalypse, and Pepper attempts to pump his legs forward and back. Forward and back. His grip is getting tenuous as he picks up speed, but then his legs catch the wall behind him. A sharp twang of metal is heard, and he’s pretty sure his right foot is going to need stitches.
“Okay guy, I need you to do the same thing.” Lipservice nods and adjusts himself to start swinging. A couple of failed attempts and the two are in position.
“We walk, slowly, and then… Well, I haven’t quite figured out that part.” Pepper grunts, then the two men start attempting a rhythm. Apocalypse calls cadence after the first time Pepper almost causes Lipservice
to lose his grip by falling behind. The walk is surprisingly easy, the gravlifter technology making their effective weight approximately zero, the lifter is pulling up at the force of their weight exactly and walking on the walls causes a subtle drop in weight. The thing is almost pulling them up. The struggle is to not stumble off the various electronic and metal items that elevators have sticking out of the shaft.
“I can see the door, now what?” Lipservice shouts entirely too loud, the echo attempting to give everyone a migraine. Pepper had been thinking about that, the only part he can’t figure out exactly perfect is getting Apocalypse out unharmed.
“Alright. Here’s what we are going to do: Lipservice step on to the elevator platform lip thing, don’t let go of her leg.”
Lipservice does his best to scramble his legs up onto the small metal step that links the doors when the elevator is functioning correctly. He cannot, however, figure out how to not be dangling to Apocalypse’s leg and start actually standing on the landing. “I can’t stand up.”
“Okay, here’s the tricky part. Is your grip okay?”
“Yeah.”
“When I jump, I need you to fall back into the doors and pull her leg with you.”
“What?”
Pepper pushes his legs as hard as he can, swinging towards the opposing wall. Lipservice gets the slack and slightly knocked back. He does his best to pull the woman to the side and risks letting one hand loose to grab the emergency open handle for support. Pepper hits his knees on Lipservice’s side of the shaft, and manages not to let go of Apocalypse’s ankle. His feet scratch at the wall, attempting to make purchase on some sticking out piece of machinery. His right foot finds something small and round, probably a nozzle for fire retardant foam or some such. They were lucky the fire alarms didn’t auto-trigger when the access cut off. Lipservice pulls Apocalypse towards him until she shouts that she is getting to close to the wall.
“Okay. This is the hard part. Agent Lipservice, can you get the door open?”
“Maybe.” The emergency handle clicked when he had pulled on it earlier, he lets go of the handle and attempts to push the doors apart. There is a small crack between them, and he pushes at one side until it makes another clicking noise. The doors both slide open. “They are open.”
“Alright. Now, Apocalypse?”
“Yes?”
“I’m going to explain this first, both of you need to listen very carefully. Lipservice, I am going to need you to let go of her leg. When I float up, you need to grab me and try and haul me in.”
“Okay. So is now good?”
“Whenever you two are ready, my wrists are starting to break.”
“Alright. Go.” Pepper grumbles. Lipservice lets go of Apocalypse’s leg, and as the gravlifter was on equilibrium for the weight of the three of them, it starts floating upward. Pepper tries to walk up the side of the wall, and eventually is greeted with the agent standing in front of him. Lipservice grabs Pepper about the waist and hauls him forward with one arm, sliding his grip on the emergency handle for Pepper to grab unto it. Both men successfully on the landing, a sigh of relief echoes through the shaft.
“Okay, can you get me down from here now?” Apocalypse says coolly, not really the type for the big group hug after a life-threatening situation. That and she is still presently in that life-threatening situation.
“Okay, agent grab her other leg. Apocalypse, I am going to need you to be facing the other door for this to work. I am going to ask you to let go of that thing on the count of three. We are going to hold you steady as best we can, but you are probably going to want to catch yourself before you crack your face on the wall.”
“Sure, whatever.”
“One.” The boys put their left arms behind the elevator doors, on the other side of the wall.
“Two.” Apocalypse twists her grip slightly to make ready for the fall.
“Three.” The boys pull her legs as she falls limp. Her arms catch the lip of the elevator, guarding her face from impact. Lipservice stays holding her leg, while Pepper grabs her and helps her into the second-floor janitor’s closet.
“Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Okay, we need to get out of here.”
“Where are we going from here?” Lipservice grunts, out of breath as the adrenaline slows in his system.
“I sent the real Sunshine Apocalypse to Checktiza, and if the hit on her is as big as it sounds like it is… Well, Stardust is the least of my worries.”
“Speaking of which. How are we getting out of here? All of this will be for naught if she finds you, correct?”
“Can’t you just arrest her?”
“She has yet to cause any harm to any person outside of the Hunt. As such, the rules are still in play. She has every right to follow you.”
“Great. Do you have any clues as to who might actually have this jewel?”
“There are some irregularities in Toro Abobo’s accounts for the team he is sponsoring for the Race of Selba, including but not limited to the Selba Tiger quitting the race mere moments before the heist. The Tiger is back in the race, and presently on Torch. There are reports that Sunshine Apocalypse is wanted for questioning on the theft of the Jewel, whereabouts unknown. There is a hit on Truckee Dumpstar, whose whereabouts are also unknown at this time, for the theft of same.”
“I see. Well, I say we go find Sunshine and try and figure it out from there. “ Pepper says to Apocalypse, who is presently twisting her wrists back and forth, judging their functionality. She looks at him and daggers of ice seem to shoot his direction. Even artificial women know how to make you feel guilty without ever saying a word. He turns to the agent, “We could use the extra man power. You want to come?”
“I have no other leads that seem very solid at this point. We can take my ship; I parked it at the station downtown.”
“Fantastic.”
“So you aren’t quitting on us are you?” Says the Captain.
“No. No, I had a momentary lack of sanity. I guess it just got too big for me to handle, I mean, this race. This race is something on a scale that no one has ever seen. To think so many people watching. I guess the pressure got to me.”
“Son, I don’t buy that shit.” The Captain says, his voice booming, one eyebrow raised in his ‘I don’t buy that shit’ look.
“Heh. Yeah, I kinda figured you wouldn’t. Publicity stunt. Truckee planned it from the beginning.”
“Just trying to get more cameras pointed at the race track. I can respect that.” The Captain chuckles, leaning back in his seat to really get a good look at Cirrhosis. There are seventeen people sitting in the giant advertising slathered office, blinking neon everywhere making it difficult to read the old man’s emotions. Most of the people are worthless peons to the actual members of Suzaku’s board; there is no point to everyone being here when there is money to be made in the Universe. Cirrhosis is pretty sure his smoke blowing is going well enough, an attempt to make sure he has a place to go after the Race. Always have to have an exit strategy, even if the likelihood of Toro ripping apart his atomic bonds is rated ‘high’.
“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt our relationship, Captain-sir.” Cirrhosis tries his best to look sincere. Captain Suzaku is an actual person, which is bizarre for a company to be basing its advertising synergy on.
The owner and CEO of Captain Suzaku’s Hot Pickin’ Go-Go Chicken used to be an Admiral with the Federalis. The story goes that he was stuck in a no-win situation, where terrorists were threatening to detonate a mining asteroid orbiting Andromeda IV. The deal was to give them safe passage through the LaGrange and sixteen billion rico. If that was done they would disarm the nuclear devices they had placed in various locations of the asteroid mining complex. If allowed to explode, it would cost the Andromeda system trillions upon trillions of rico to fix, basically ruining a Central7 economy and kill all the people living on the three asteroid colonies orbiting the planet
. That would be about seven and a half million people. Federali policy is to never capitulate to demands of terrorists, despite their obvious willingness to make deals with organized crime. So the Admiral is left in a bit of a quandary. Allow millions to die to save trillions, make a deal and possibly save them all at the risk of this being a frequent occurrence, try and attack the colonies hoping to kill the terrorists before they kill the millions.
Suzaku did not falter. He asked to speak to the leader of the resistance group; they were a band of two hundred who wanted nothing more than to make a name for themselves and to start a new crime guild. To do that they needed to stop being a small gang on an asteroid mining colony and gather enough rico to buy themselves a part of Chi-Chi. Suzaku listened to the fervent explanation, nodded in agreement at certain problems with modern life that the leader couldn’t bear any longer. Suzaku ended their conversation with a nod, stating that he had every intention to make sure that the higher ups heard what he had, and that their money would arrive on time assuming no casualties were taken. Then Suzaku had the station’s gravlifters blown up, the entire station drifting slowly downward until it exploded in a fiery ball on re-entry.
A good million people died that day, but it was the best of all possible scenarios. Even so, Suzaku was demoted to Captain for his failures, and then told to retire. Suzaku was a congressman for a good while on Andromeda Prime, but eventually grew tired of the grind. Somehow that led him to being a media mogul slash chicken salesman, but Cirrhosis never quite understood what part A had to do with part B. Regardless, Suzaku is a man of considerable wealth and an eye for tradition. If Cirrhosis keeps to his good side, there will be endorsement deals coming his way. Suzaku is a man of honor and loyalty. That, and the chicken.
“Well, I have other fires to put out, son. You think you are going to win the race?”
“I am the odds on favorite.”
“Still practicing?” The Captain is looking Cirrhosis over like a prime workhorse, judging his worth by the size of his musculature.
“Hitting the gym twice a day, sir.”
“And the range?”
“As often as I can. Still the best shot in the league.”
“Tell that to Paris VI.” The Captain chuckles, an old sports rivalry exists between Selba and Paris. Cirrhosis only really has about six or seven people to worry about in the race and four come from the Paris league.
“Their kids are getting faster, that’s for sure, but they lack experience. Drive. They just don’t do it the way us old school racers do.”
“Ain’t that the truth. Heh, well that’s good to hear, son. Make sure you don’t take that for granted, don’t get soft on me.”
“Of course, sir.”
Captain Suzaku stands firmly, if not quickly, being a man of a particular age. A man still sturdy and thick, but not nimble. He straightens his suit, repositions his cowboy hat, and tips it to Cirrhosis. Cirrhosis stands quickly, and salutes the man. Captain smiles, and walks out.
“Alright then. Down to business.” Cirrhosis mutters as he sits back down, the flunkies of the board came to talk numbers with him. Tell him how this public appearance and that photo shoot changed the demographic uptick on the sensivise polls held by whoever the fuck cares, and how that relates to the sale of chicken nuggets on a region by region basis. So, you know, the exciting part of the meeting was just beginning.
Last Chance wasn’t allowed to sleep in as much as she would have liked. At about eight she gets a call from her handler on the station. A nice matronly woman who gives her an itinerary for the next week, which takes into account her ‘relationship’ with Cirrhosis. Last chuckles at the prim and proper woman telling her about how she should attempt to keep herself from fucking Cirrhosis until next week, as it should be as close to the race as possible to get the best ratings boost. The woman is somewhat mortified in stating anything sexual, and she is asking Last to treat her actual relationship like a sort of televised prostitution. Last doesn’t have the heart to tell the poor woman that Cirrhosis has yet to even kiss her, the last night ending with a hug at her door.
Last muddles through the dialog bits she is supposed to use during her various tasks set throughout the day, and manages to get a decent shower and breakfast before having to walk to her job. The streets are barren, not nearly as bustling in the early morning. Shop keepers are opening doors, unfurling canopies over their wares. The slow movements of a market about to start bustling surround Last as she makes her way to the train-station, her eyes recording everything she sees. Last could get used to living in a place like this, but it would be murder for her career.
The dome Last and Cirrhosis are staying in is one of the more residential inclined locations on Torch, and to the other domes it is connected by various tubes and walkways. The train system runs both through the asteroid itself, and above the habitats in vacuum sealed tubes. Last has to go to the central dome, the Crimson district, where the city is much more business orientated. The train ride lasts only five minutes, but is full of breathtaking views of the red planet below and the sun cresting over a nearby moon. Last exits her train energized and excited for the next thing to happen, whatever that might entail.
Crimson station is all white, with subtle fixtures and a very ascetic tonality to even the motion adverts, which gives Last a moment to catch her breath before going up the stairs. The city itself is practically screaming with activity, people everywhere, buildings touching the top of the dome, personal transports zipping like gnats between the structures. Last is instantly overwhelmed, never taking a moment to think Torch would be this big of a colony. She stands on the sidewalk for a good minute just absorbing the lights and sounds before pulling up a map her eButler provided. Last is to be a model in a fashion show held tomorrow evening in a bigger hotel about half a mile from her hotel, but the agency is in Crimson and that is where she is going now.
“Miss Chance, wonderful to finally meet you.” A small woman exclaims suddenly from Last’s left.
“I. Oh, well, hello there.” Last stumbles, realizing this was an intended accidental meeting that had been planned by the producers to give Torch a more ‘home-town’ feel. Last smiles brightly, remembering herself. “I just got here, and I never would have thought I’d just bump into someone I know right off the train.”
“Well, I was looking for you. Plans changed, the designer wants to meet with you over lunch.”
“Oh I see. Where to then?”
“Follow me.” The woman grabs Last’s wrist and pulls her down the street to a busy intersection. The woman’s other arm is raised, and a taxi slides down from the traffic scrum overhead and parks in front of them. Last smiles and holds the door for the woman, who tells the driving unit their destination as Last gets a final look around at train-station.
“You coming?”
“Oh, sorry. This place is just so different than I expected.”
“Get that a lot from newcomers, news isn’t kind to us these days.”
“Heh, it certainly seems that way. Well, let’s get going then.” Last says with a smile as she sits. A long day of fake smiling ahead, well, only half fake. This whole tourism thing is actually kind of fun.