A Lone Star on the Lady Liberty: Episode 1
An Echo in Space
This is episode 1 of my “card” story — to learn more about this challenge, see yesterday’s post. I used the opportunity to write a prequel story for one of my favourite morally grey characters from A Lost Ship in a Dark Grave, book 2 in The Lyra Cycle.
“Hey Hey Echo Echo.”
Echo spun around to find the owner of the voice. She spotted them lurking in the shadows besides crates of Sideraal plum whiskey and Candarian barley wine.
“Shut it, Laramy,” Echo hissed as she scanned the storage compartment she currently found herself in.
Of course a cargo room on the Lady Liberty would have crate upon crate of rare alcohol. An interstellar luxury liner, the Liberty represented the life Echo aspired to. She heard some people never left, living in their suites as the ship jumped from gate to gate, planet to station, taking day trips to experience “the real world”. Waited on hand and foot by an army of silent servants, with fresh food and warm baths at their beck and call. She ran her fingers over the real wood and inhaled. A spicy aroma, almost like a mix of golden pepper and salaberry powder, reached her nostrils along with a dash of dust. She rubbed her nose to stop a sneeze.
“Echo Echo Eris—”
She put a hand over Laramy’s mouth. “I swear to Nix, I’ll punch you.” She dropped her hand and tilted her head to listen for people … or sims. A ship like this would have sims. “This is a clandestine operation.” She refocused on her companion.
“No, it’s a robbery,” they said, eyes going wide.
“Sure, fine. But I don’t want people to know I’m the one robbing them.”
“These people don’t know you at all, Echo.”
Echo grimaced at Laramy, then tugged at the collar of the drab uniform they’d provisioned for her. She contrasted that with the sparkling, diaphanous dress her childhood friend wore — a rainbow of stars. “Why do you get to be the patrician while I’m the servant?”
“Because I’m fabulous!” Laramy twirled. They stopped, face serious. “And I’m the one who learned Ellis Gar was going to be taking a stateroom on the Lady Liberty. And that he’d be ferrying something for the Baron Meropi.” Their voice dropped to a hiss. “Something that requires his own security detail.”
“The Star.” The words were a whisper around the ache in her throat, barely a sigh. Echo knew she should abandon Laramy to pursue their harebrained plan on their own … but the lure of the Star of Meropi was magnetic — too strong for her to resist. The Star was a jewel of legend and myth, sacred to some, sacrilegious to others. Few had seen it; and only a handful of pictures existed, most of them ancient or blurry. To Echo’s untrained eye it looked like a simple blue diamond, but the gemologists determined it was a exceedingly rare cobalt tourmaline. “So, Ser Laramy, what now?”
Laramy’s lips pressed together. “I—” they started. “I … you have more experience at being nefarious than I do.”
“So, no plan?” Echo grabbed her friend’s arm and pulled them along. “We should follow Ellis Gar, figure out when he’ll be gallivanting, and try to get into his suite.”
“Oh, Davit can help with that.” Laramy clapped their hands together.
Echo had never met Davit, Laramy’s newest boyfriend … or at least the one who’d told them about Gar and his top secret, heavily guarded package.
Echo let a sigh escape, once again regretting her life choices. A gang of three was not enough to steal the Star of Meropi. She pressed her lips toghether. But trying to steal the Star was better than the alternative — concocting another improbable way to pay off her considerable debt to the Haggashi, a way that didn’t involve putting herself in the gang’s hands to exploit for their own gain … or taking their debt in her blood.
“Come on.” Echo pulled harder.
“Go check if there’s anyone in the hallway,” Echo said as she leaned close to Laramy.
“No, Servant Eris. You check.”
“I’m not actually—”
Laramy put a finger to Echo’s lips, and it took an act of will to not bite the thing. “What do you think it will look like if a patrician in a fancy dress comes out of the storage closet?” Laramy dropped their hand, dragging Echo’s bottom lip down as they did.
“Like you’re having it on with one of the crew.” Echo turned but kept her eyes on her friend. “Fraternizing might be forbidden. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. And if you were a real patrician, you’d absolutely fraternize.”
“I would not fraternize.” Laramy snorted. “That sounds far too genteel.”
Echo gave Laramy a lopsided grin that was half-smile, half-grimace, then slid the door open a crack. It whined when she stopped it. Luckily, silence cloaked the corridor. The dim light of an empty servants’ hall crept through the sliver. She opened it a hand’s breadth more and stuck her head out.
“It’s clear.”
Laramy squealed in pleasure and shoved past her, traipsing along the squishy flooring. Echo hurried to follow. When they came to a door labelled ‘Public — Seahorse Promenade’, Laramy turned to her.
“You stay here and follow in a minute.” Their hands mussed up their hair as they spoke, then slipped one strap of the dress off their shoulder. A smile quirked their lips.
“What are you doing?” Unease crept into Echo’s voice.
“It’s our cover. We were fraternizing.” Laramy leaned in and planted a kiss on Echo’s cheek, then let out a light laugh.
Before Echo could protest that fraternizing meant fun for the patrician but brig for the crew, Laramy had opened the door and slid out. A cascade of soothing music and murmured conversation spilled into the quiet corridor.
Echo counted to ten, pulled her shoulders back, and followed.
Echo tightened the belt of her jacket. It was as if the cruise line cut their uniforms specifically to discourage fraternizing. She caught her reflection in one of the polished metal panels that lined the wall and grimaced. It was better, but … she lifted her fingers to the buttons at the collar that choked her neck. It would be even better if she undid a few.
Laramy swatter her hand away. “Stop that. You’re supposed to fit in.”
Echo grimaced but left the buttons as they were. She hated to admit it, but Laramy was right. As she followed them along the corridors of the Lady Liberty, she adjusted her stride, adding a touch of swagger and ease. Even the servants on the liner were haughty, both ship employed and passenger.
Suddenly, Laramy stopped. “Stay here,” they said.
Echo scowled as she looked down at the hand they’d pressed to her chest. “I—” she started.
“Look like the guard you’re supposed to be, protecting me while I fraternize.” Laramy spun away and ducked into an alcove.
Echo’s lips pressed together, and once again she asked herself why she was trusting flighty Laramy Singe and the boyfriend she’d never met. Because the Haggashi want their money and they're not above claiming it in a few pounds of flesh, a voice in her head said. And Laramy had been one of her only friends in the Sisters’ orphanage. Never flighty when it counted … well, except that last time.
She straightened, pretending at being a servant-bodyguard. Shaking her head, she scanned the hall to focus her attention. She struggled to keep her gawping inside, but her eyes widened and her mouth slowly dropped open. The Lady Liberty was a world away from the station orphanage she’d grown up in, after her mother had abandoned her and her father, and he’d decided they’d be better fed apart.
A curving staircase swept up from the level below, with a flowering vine weaving through its railing. Overhead, a scattering of small lights against a midnight background made the ceiling appear like a window to the universe beyond. A quartet of sim musicians played beside the entrance to a theatre at the far end of the promenade. The people gathered in front of the grand entrance were draped in opulent fabrics, all spider silk and Stygian flax and Angwati wool, interwoven with metallic threads and crystal beads. And even though the servants and hangers on were a cut above, it was still easy to tell them from the passengers.
“Boo.”
Echo jumped and spun around at the sound of Laramy’s voice.
“Don’t do that. I could have broken your neck.”
“Ha, I’m not so easily broken, as you know.” They tapped her shoulder with a rectangle of plex. Golden filaments ran through it. “I got it.”
Echo tried to snatch the key from Laramy, but they pulled it away too fast for her.
“Tut. I got the key. But Davit needs it back by 19:00 Zulu.”
“So, we just need to make sure Gar is out of his quarters.” Echo squinted, the scene in front of her blurring as she evaluated the possibilities.
“Gar is right there.” Laramy bopped beside her.
Echo’s head snapped up to look where they pointed. The glitz and sparkle parted to reveal an overly modded face, its forced grin full of teeth as gleaming white as saddiqi tiles. A pretty young thing hung off each arm, both wearing vacuous expressions. She yanked Laramy’s hand down. “What are you doing?”
Laramy sighed but dropped their hand. “I could be pointing at any one of the power wielders or wealth hoarders. Oh, or muscle-bound fighters.” Her friend gawped as the fighters Echo had seen before wandered by again, then they leaned closer. “Either way, Gar is going to be busy at the opera until 21:00 Zulu, so we can ransack his quarters.”
“No ransacking.” This time Echo did snatch the key from Laramy, ignoring the flash in her friend’s eyes, and strode away.
Laramy caught up with her. “Fine. No ransacking.” They clambered over her as they tried to grab the key back, but Echo was taller and stronger. “But it would help if you went the right way,” they added.
Read episode 2. If you want to read more in this universe, you can find The Lyra Cycle on armchairalien.com or your favourite online bookstore.