Noema Kintar
Character
SOUTHBREAK ANNEX S-4
"THE QUIET DOCK"
NEW STERANDEL
2148 LOCAL TIME
Officially, Dock S-4 didn't exist. "THE QUIET DOCK"
NEW STERANDEL
2148 LOCAL TIME
Officially, there was no landing bay built into the Southbreak storm barrier of New Sterandel, Aegis, between desalination towers 4 and 5. On the maps, on the plans, on all the paperwork that existed, the area was a maintenance area, large enough to land a cargo vessel to offload parts for repair and maintenance of the desalination plans that lined the storm barrier, but nothing more. Officially, the air traffic control center was merely a watchtower with communications facilities to keep low-flying vessels and ships from crashing into Southbreak.
Noema Kintar had arrived via Utility Causeway D-3, a tunnel that ran along the interior of the barrier, providing access to each of the desalination towers, and Annex S-4, ushered there by a cadre of strangers. She wouldn't have gone if Reima Vitalis hadn't commended her to their care. But if Reima told her something, that meant she could take it to the bank. The small electric tram whirred into a slow deceleration and then, with mechanical precision, eased to a halt outside a broad door marked ANNEX S-4.
"This is where we leave you," the lead functionary said. The other, who hardly ever spoke, held out Noema's duffel bag to her. The first man said: "Good luck."
"Thank you," Noema said automatically. She took the duffel and without so much as a how-do the tram was off again, whirring efficiently as you like down the tramway. She watched until the running lights were out of sight, and the red lighting, which lit up in sections as the tram passed through them, clicked off, leaving only the dim amber of the lighting above the door. She walked up the little ramp, but before she reached the door, a ventilation system rumbled robustly to life. She dropped her bag reflexively, left hand going to right ribcage, right hand to where the her jaw hinged.
But her pulse spiked only briefly. The uncomfortable tightness seized her chest only for a moment. Reluctantly removing her hands, Noe took a breath and picked up her bag, pointing her shoulders at the door. It opened as she approached. Her eyes traced "the Quiet Dock" and its perimeter before she went over the threshold. One safe exit -- the way she had come in -- was apparent. A second, in a pinch, the gaping maw in the wall opposite that would allow egress of the capable freighter that currently sat cattywampus on the bay floor, the only way it could fit in a hangar built for smaller craft. Mist -- maybe steam, or maybe discharge from the hydraulic coolant pumps -- billowed from the underbelly of the ship, swirling around the struts, emanating out across the deckplates, giving an otherworldly kind of vibe to the whole scene. Lights were kept low and amber, the better not to draw attention.
She had barely stepped away from the threshold when another tram came whirring to a halt.
A pair of men in non-descript coveralls disembarked and entered efficiently. "Excuse me, ma'am," said one of them. He grasped one of the pipes and yanked it, guiding it back towards the receptacle on the wall where Noema had shifted. She stepped in the other direction, back toward the door, while the second man pulled another hose out of a hidden panel and inserted it into the ship at another place. The smell of industrial fuel stung at Noema's nostrils.
"Excuse me, ma'am," the first man said, once more standing before her. She stepped back the other way and the man pulled a panel of the wall open to reveal a folding-down computer keyboard and monitor.
"If you wouldn't mind, ma'am," the second said, "protocol requires we keep the entrance clear."
"Will I be in the way if I stand over there?" asked Noema, trying not to sound irked -- or worse, embarrassed. She pointed to a spot by the open bay, near the entrance ramp of the vessel.
"Should be all right there," the second man said, then seemed to forget her as his earpiece flickered with blue lights. He turned to the first man. "H.R.H. inbound. Get ready."
Noema tiptoed across the landing area to the spot she had indicated and half-turned, her shoulders pointing squarely at the door she had entered through. The sea breeze from the sea ruffled her hair and her blouse. She absent-mindedly touched the silver pin on her left collar lapel, her fingers brushing the face as if to confirm that it hadn't fallen off.
It never fell off.
