The Space Spinster (Slow Updates)

Log 17. Mikado's Tragic Backstory

Time Stamp: 16th of the 5th month, year 2696 CE, 07:34

Location Stamp: Venusian Departures, Space Port, in orbit of Planet Mars, Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy

***

I burrowed imaginary holes through Jones' skull with a glare until he shook off his business-travel-induced trance.

"What were we talking about, Ma'am?" He searched my face with his red-rimmed eyes.

I repressed a scream and an urge to replace the beer in his hands with mineral water. For the rest of his life. "Dr. Mikado and the ore freighter, Jones. You said he snuck aboard one to escape Venus."

"Ah, yes. That tired, old yarn."

I squirmed in my seat. If there was anything old and tired here, it wasn't the story but the storyteller.

"You see, nobody in their right mind would smuggle a drone from Venus, Ma'am. Who needs a dead body on arrival, and all that? So, Mikado survived a week on an unmanned ore transport. Built his own life-support unit from what he had handy on the ship." Jones paused for effect, then smiled conspiratorially. "Or that's how he tells it."

I nearly kicked Jones' shins for taking another sip of his fucking beer. And no, I wasn't forgetting that I wore heavy steel-reinforced boots. In fact, I counted on that extra. "What's the truth then?"

"Who knows, but one thing's certain. The 'genius' had nearly frozen to death, despite his vaunted life support."

Mikado's scheme on Jupiter laid me out for longer than a week, but damn it... I couldn't chase away the image of his shivering figure in the dark belly of an ore transport. "He survived outside Venus. Gotta respect that."

Jones lifted a finger and wagged it at me. "Ma'am, don't forget that the Corp bred him defective. How much of his ability to survive outside Venus is because of a preexisting mutation, and how much — thanks to his ingenuity... again, who knows?"

"Not us, that's for sure." I was a soldier, and he was a drunken sod.

"Go figure, even his failures helped him. Normally, they'd give a runaway drone back to the Corp, but not Mikado. There was a big fuss, and all those do-gooders on Mars insisted he deserved a chance."

Frozen Mikado hit me halfway between satisfying and touching. He probably didn't cultivate his present-day arrogant self-satisfied personality back then. So, all in all, I could see how the Martian public might lean towards the 'that poor guy' end of the spectrum. "And the rest is history, I suppose."

"Aye. History. Just wish I didn't have to hear about him every time someone brings up the drones." Jones gave his mug a suspicious look. Maybe he expected Mikado to float up from the amber depth, climb on the rim and piss all over it.

"Right," I said and turned to Lola, who remained silent during the entire tale. She wiggled her long digits for Wasabi's benefit, so engrossed in playing with the cat that her tiny espresso cup sat half-full. I doubted she missed a single word, however. Myms absorb information like sponges. "What do you think, Lola?"

Lola's luminescent nails flashed in the energy-conscious twilight of the lounge. Segment by segment, her half-caterpillar and half-rabbit head lifted from the engrossed cat. She glanced at Jones. "Mikado's ordeal sounds positively dreadful! I can see why the poor dear spent a fortune on that toy ship of his." She sighed dreamily and turned her attention back to Wasabi.

Poor dear? I restrained my eyebrows before they hit the ceiling. A sense of betrayal crept in as well, because I counted on Lola to despise Mikado even more than I did. We got to have a girl talk pronto, and for that, I had to get rid of Jones.

"Mikado's ship christening ceremony is going to be something, for sure! I bet it would end on Martian news!" Chirpy enthusiasm was not my thing, but I must have come close, because Jones cleared his throat. Twice. "Ahem, I think we are about to board. I'd better rejoin my party. I hope you will enjoy your stay on Venus, ladies."

I beamed after Jones as he parked himself on the other side of the lounge. I even waved for a good measure. A tortured smile curled up his colorless lips in response before he engaged in a whispered conversation with his colleagues. Judging by how animated the party had become, someone there knew all about Mikado's ship.

Good for them. Lola and I had a talk of our own. "I thought you didn't like Mikado, because he was inane." Not going to lie, I sounded accusatory.

"I thought you outright hated him, because he wanted to kill you," Lola murmured in response.

"Still do! He staged the Variel attack, armed them with the paralyzing mods — what? Why do you look at me like this?"

"These mods weren't lethal, Vera."

"Could have fooled me."

"All I am saying, the Variel are easily carried away in a fight, so the paralytics could have been a safeguard. To actually protect you."

"Like hell they were." Okay, that was an angle I had never considered, despite obsessing over Mikado's scheme for days. But, but, but... no. I didn't want a weapon dealer to protect me or become likable. "He developed an illegal, dangerous weapon and basically tested it on me. It was pure luck it didn't shut down my respiratory system."

Lola's delicate nose trembled for a moment before she expelled a long sigh instead of words. That cast me down more than a shouting match would have. In Mym's blue eyes, I saw the questions I should have been asking. Would Mikado risk his client's life in a gunfight? Or homicide charges if Var'Rar's prank turned deadly?

And if I firmly believed Mikado was evil, why did it rub me the wrong way when Jones dissed him? Damn it, I was losing ground, and...

"You know what, Lola? I don't want to talk about Mikado any more. Is this our ride?" I pointed at the ugly assembly of cargo containers beyond one of the lounges' windows. The monstrosity must have arrived while I listened to the saga of Mikado's tragic past.

"I think so," the Mym replied. "The freighters all look the same to me."

"Hmm, is this thing even space worthy?"

I chatted about anything but Mikado while we boarded, non-stop. And I'm not a chatter-box, so I exhaled in relief once we started our acceleration run to the FTL. The spaceships without the SOOSS drive were neither a quiet nor a smooth ride, and it made conversations pretty much impossible.

But at least it was fast.

Mikado's unmanned freighter didn't get the FTL at all. It must have crawled through space for days on end, while he curled up in a dark corner, praying not to freeze to death or run out of oxygen.

Shit. I wished we could chat, because changing the topic in a conversation was far, far easier than changing the flow of my thoughts.