Sitting on top of an abandoned hangar, Jade looked ahead.

Belarus’s spaceport stretched at the northern edge of the city proper. Satellite settlements had filled the rocky terrain in between, creating a seamless landscape made of repurposed cargo containers, spaceship carcasses that now housed condominiums for the poor, and ridges and mountains of metal and plastic rubbish.

If Belarus City was alive with a transient population of ever-changing visitors, the Spaceport Outskirts thrived with stationary dwellers: people who landed on the planet with the intention of skipping to the next port and never left. Nobody planned to live on that rock at the edge of the Outer Belts.

The more Jade stared at the gray, uninviting scenery, the more she thought that it was the perfect place to hide in plain sight.

Jumping from the roof’s ledge, she landed on sure feet and took off on a slight jog toward the spaceport. The physical activity cleared her mind completely, and even her nausea subsided until it was but a memory, giving her legs more strength until she was running across the unkempt terrain. A nagging emotion kept her company, but she relegated the feeling to a small corner of her mind and pushed ahead, her boots flying over the dusty path.

A tank-like, tracked vehicle sped past her, and Jade sprinted to reach its tail. Hooking her hand on the metal ring dangling from the back, she vaulted onto its flat roof.

Her landing, although light, stirred the driver into opening the porthole.

A large man looked up at her and exclaimed, “Hoy!”

“Thank you for the lift.” Jade smiled, angling her arm so that the white on her tan skin showed to better advantage. She needed witnesses, people who would testify she had gone to the spaceport.

The man’s beady eyes widened, and he hurried to say, “It’s all right,” and closed the porthole.

Jade crossed her legs at the ankles and lowered herself to the roof. She wasn’t tired but wanted to take one last moment to make sure she had thought her plan through. Her survival depended on every single part of her scheme working exactly as she had imagined it. A simple variation would greatly hinder her chance to see another day.

From her note, Jade knew that the Academy had already deployed one or more assassins to terminate her, but she could have other enemies after her. What about the man she owed her life to? Was he looking for her as well?

Past-Jade had erased even the memory of her target’s face. That was peculiar. Why would she go to such an extreme? She would have to find an image of the High Lord of Solaria when she had time. Maybe a clue would unlock. It was worth trying.

As they came closer to the Spaceport Outskirts, the buildings ran together closer and closer, the corrugated metal changing from rusty green to rusty brown, and any shade in between, creating a riot of colors against the silvery-gray rocks. A multitude of people inundated the narrow streets opening between the seedy locales and the private dwellings. Hawkers peddled their wares from the shade of striped awnings. Children riding clockwork monocycles zigzagged among the crowd. Amid the stench of exhaust, the more inviting smells of baked goods and roasted meat wafted in the air. Jade’s stomach gurgled, but she didn’t have time to stop now. Eating would have to wait until she took care of her disappearance.

The tank slowed to merge into one of the lateral alleys of the outskirts. Jade slammed her hand twice against the rooftop in thanks before vaulting down from the roof. The spaceport loomed a few kilometers ahead, and she resumed her jog.

At the pedestrians’ gate, Jade raised her face toward the camera. The black box with the swiveling eye sat on top of the gate’s right column, recording every visitor’s entrance to the spaceport. Hanging cables and discolored stain gave the machine an outdated and out-of-service look, but Jade knew better. Belarus Spaceport used state of the art technology and the best technicians this side of the galaxy. By the time she reached the terminal, her identity would be known to the port authorities. She counted on that.

Jade kept her pace hurried, making a beeline for the Olympus Air booth.

Behind a thick, reinforced-plasteel glass window, an older lady stared at Jade with unseeing eyes, her eyelids furiously blinking as she tapped her manicured nail against her temple.

“Howdy,” Jade called, knocking on the glass three times to draw the lady’s attention, but she couldn’t break the woman’s immersion in her holofeed.

Highly addictive, the latest fashion in neural implants were outlawed everywhere but in the Outer Belts, because its users would lose themselves in virtual worlds of their own creation, and death by starvation was a common side effect of the holofeeds. One of the many perks of living at the edge of civilized society was that cutting-edge expertise wasn’t regulated, giving research the much-needed freedom to roam beyond the pesky restriction of ethics. On Belarus, and the other Edge Planets—as they liked to call themselves—labs popped up like mushrooms every day for unscrupulous scientists to try their hands at playing gods.

Jade punched the plasteel and waited before striking the surface a second time and with greater strength, but not at full power yet. She wanted the clerk to notice her presence but didn’t want to cause a coronary. It wasn’t her intention to kill anyone at the moment. First, it wouldn’t do her any good, and second, she didn’t want to.

Suddenly, the idea of terminating a life didn’t sit well with her.

That was odd.

Jade didn’t have time to ponder the thought because the older lady’s eyes finally focused on the surface in front of her and saw she had a customer.

“What can I do for ya?” The woman’s voice came through from the speaker at the side of the window.

“One skip to Marlin,” Jade said, directing her words toward the speaker.

The woman seemed unable to keep her focus on Jade, and her sight wandered, giving her a cross-eyed look as she tried to look back at her customer. “Final destination?”

“For now.” Jade reached for the rectangular square in her pants’ pocket and plastered it against the synthetic glass, her credentials flashing bright.

One Janet Reiss from Lupine, mother of two, was about to book a one-way trip to one of the most isolated frontier planets in the Rim Sector. Her fake credentials would give the Academy the idea that she was trying to sneak out without them being the wiser.

“What class would be your preference?” the woman asked.

“Economy.” It was the less expensive option on an interstellar spacebus, and she could still barely afford the fare.

The woman grabbed a pair of clockwork glasses from the counter in front of her and wore them on her aquiline nose. The lenses opened wide and clicked, taking pictures of Jade’s card. Once the information was safely stored in the Olympus Air’s database, the older lady removed the heavy contraption, revealing a red welt on the bridge of her nose where the metal frame had pressed against her thin skin.

“Is there anything else I can do for ya?” the woman asked, her gaze now fully focused on Jade.

“That’ll be all,” Jade answered.

“You’ll be traveling aboard Zeus Omnipotent. Olympus Air wishes you a great flight.” A low humming accompanied the woman’s parting words, and a moment later, a thin, rectangular card was ejected from a slit in the plasteel that immediately closed back.

Jade caught the ticket in midair and brought two fingers to her temple in farewell, though the woman already appeared to be re-immersed in her virtual world. She walked past the booth and stopped at the gate where she swiped the card before a sensor that opened the entrance to the terminal behind.

Following the flashing arrow of the color indicated on her ticket, neon purple, she walked further inside the Olympus Air dock. Her spacebus was moored at the opposite end of the terminal, and she strode resolutely across the floating boardwalk, cutting through the crowd. When she reached Zeus Omnipotent, she couldn’t help but agree on the name chosen for the gargantuan cruiser that stood ten stories tall and hovered with its sails and lateral wings folded. What a sight the vessel must be, navigating the outer space.

“Welcome aboard,” a lovely stewardess said as soon as Jade stepped onto the staircase that led inside the spacebus. The brunette wore clockwork glasses that scanned Jade’s ticket. “Mrs. Reis, Artemis will be your attendant during the voyage, and she will accompany you to your cabin.”

Jade climbed to the top of the stairs where another lovely brunette presented herself as Artemis.

“Please, follow me,” the attendant said.

If it weren’t for the small clicks that punctuated her every movements, one could forget the fact that only clockwork automatons worked for Olympus Air. It was the company’s great source of pride that their customer service was rated the best in the galaxy year after year. A non-human crew served Jade’s purpose perfectly.

“The temperature inside Zeus Omnipotent is kept at 26 Celsius, but in your cabin, you can regulate the air to your liking,” Artemis said before launching into a detailed summary of all the exciting activities one could do aboard.

Jade stopped listening to the automaton and took stock of her surroundings as the attendant led her to her seventh-story cabin. They rode a transparent elevator that moved both vertically and horizontally.

“The fitness center with the salt-therapy pools is at the end of the hallway.” The attendant pointed her tapered finger at a glass wall before turning on her heels and resuming the walk in the opposite direction. She stopped before a door that sported a flashing plaque with Mrs. Reis written on it. “Please, place your hand on the door,” she said.

Jade pressed her palm against the surface. Small vibrations followed by pleasant heat warmed Jade’s hand.

“From now until the end of your voyage, the cabin will only let you inside.” The satisfaction in Artemis’s voice resembled the real deal, and it explained why Olympus Air had been accused in the past of catering to a special clientele that would pay huge sums to experience non-restrained sex.

At least those perverts are unleashing their baser instincts on machines, Jade thought, but the idea disgusted her anyway.

Artemis showed her all the amenities of her economy cabin. Build like a miniature studio apartment, the place was divided in two areas by a wall that was made up of shelves. On one side of the screen lay a kitchenette with a table and two chairs. On the other side, there was the sleeping area. The bathroom was enclosed in the opposite wall.

Artemis walked the few steps from the kitchen to the bedroom and grabbed the mask dangling over the headboard. “If you don’t wish to participate in any of the social activities, but you’d rather sleep during the transit, Zeus Omnipotent offers the latest in sensorial-deprivation therapy.” She brought the mask to her face and mimed the act of inhaling. “One good whiff, and you will wake at destination. Sleep while rejuvenating. Food and liquids are administered through the mask, and the servo-bed takes care of any corporeal needs.”

It might have been Jade’s imagination, but she thought she heard a disgusted tone when the automaton said, “Corporeal needs.”

“If you instead prefer to mingle with the rest of the passengers, meals are communal, and participation in the various activities is strongly encouraged,” Artemis said, stepping toward the hallway. “If you need anything else, just call me.” She pointed at the small gramophone on the nightstand.

“I’ll sleep,” Jade said.

“Excellent choice.” Following her programmed script, she then said, “For an additional fee, I can place you in one of the sleeping docks on the tenth floor. The entire bay is a medical facility. There, your vitals are constantly monitored, whereas here, I will only check you at the beginning and at the end of the voyage. Also, in the sleeping dock, tailored treatments are administered if needed. We can accommodate special requests like cosmetic treatments and weight management.”

“No. I’ll remain here.”

“Excellent choice,” Artemis repeated. Their vocabulary, although extensive, always gave them away. She turned on her high heels and strode toward the sleeping bay. “Let me set it up for you.” She stopped by the bed, grabbed the mask from the hook, then leaned over the headboard to depress a button. A small, rectangular tray soundlessly protruded from the wall. While holding the mask in one hand, Artemis placed her free palm against the surface of the tray. Under the pressure of her hand, it lit with a white luminescence, while the headboard whirred in response, and the mask hissed.

“Please, lie down.” The automaton indicated the bed.

Jade lowered herself to the firm mattress that contoured around her, welcoming her body into a cocoon. Artemis dimmed the light with a swipe of her hand over a circular portion on the wall above Jade’s head. “It takes less than ten minutes for the chemicals to enter the system and induce long-term sleep. Olympus Air is the only company that offers the Rest & Rejuvenate program. Recreational drugs and lack of sensorial stimuli create the perfect environment to achieve a dreamless state that you will gradually exit once we enter Marlin’s orbit.” She lowered the mask, but stopped to ask, “Do you have any questions?”

“No. I’m ready.” Jade took a big gulp of air as the mask descended upon her face.

Artemis’ gentle fingers probed at the edge of the supple plastic of the mask. The material shaped itself around Jade’s cheekbones, adhering to her skin. “Good. Now breathe in.”

Jade made it look like she had complied with the suggestion. Instead, she closed her mouth tight.

“I’ll welcome you back in thirty-two days.” Artemis smiled before giving Jade her back and walking to the outer door.

The mask started pumping in earnest, and Jade waited for the panel to click back in place before freeing her face. Her cheap ticket came with the minimum of cabin upgrades, and her actions triggered no alarm. A whiff of citrus and red lavender reached her nostrils. Her senses reeled for a moment, but breathing fresh air cleared her lungs of the minute amount of chemicals she had inhaled.

A few minutes later, she exited her cabin. On the outside plaque, the sign now said, “Do Not Disturb. Sleep in Progress.”

The good thing about a ship manned by a clockwork crew, even one as sophisticated as the one serving Zeus Omnipotent was that automatons trusted humans. Those machines were built to obey commands and never to doubt their clients’ intentions.

Nobody stopped Jade when she walked out of the shuttle a few minutes later.