Angeleyes - eARC by Michael Z. Williamson

stuff aboard.
    “Sir, Angie Kaneshiro. Able spacer, medic, cargo, cook, clean. Thank you for your hospitality. Your crew let me aboard. I can work while I’m here. What do you want me to do?”
    He grinned and said, “Well, we’re tossing our ID chips. Want to join the party?”
    Behind him, someone was running a chip through an arc demagnetizer.
    “I, uh, already ditched mine,” I said.
    “Hah. Most trif.” He looked impressed. He spoke my dialect. That felt so good.
    “Yeah. Thanks for the lift. It’s getting ugly there, fast.”
    “It is. I wish we could pay you, but given the loading and all . . .”
    “Yeah, I know,” I said. His margin wouldn’t support paying deadheads, even if they stretched out the workload. “It’s fine.” I pointed at the girl. “Juletta isn’t mine but she’s traveling with me for now. You’re flying, I’m working. Tell me what you need.”
    He said, “I put all the women with children in Port Mod Two. I’m keeping the men back in Starboard Three. Can you take charge of those habitat bitches and show them how to survive aboard ship?”
    Yeah, he’d need that. His crew didn’t like station women, I gathered. They seemed to like having me to help, at least.
    I said, “I’ll do my best.”
    He actually smiled. “Good. Be all MI on them.”
    “Got it.” I’d try.
    I wasn’t sure what I was going to do in Caledonia with a stray child. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with her here.
    Juletta went with me, clinging on my arm and neck. I closed locks on the way. They’d all been left undogged, which was really stupid after a pressure failure.
    “Mom?” she asked.
    “We have to keep looking,” I said as I monkeyed back, walking and grabbing stanchions. “There are too many people here. We’re going to a meeting place. You know, like school has a meeting place for fire or air incidents?”
    “Yeah.”
    “This is a stationwide air incident. We all have to get off the station, then meet up. Mom and Dad should be there.”
    “Capn will help?”
    “Yes, he’ll take us somewhere safe.”
    “Okay,” she agreed, as we reached the passenger space.
    The pod was full, with kids in a mostly happy swarm and the women chattering away, but some were arguing, two of them face to face. There were four men with kids. Kids adapt fast. It’s always amazed me.
    Why does everyone think their kids look cute? Some were. Some were little trolls. One was shoving another and shouting, “Bitch!”
    Several of the adults looked at me. Some were hopeful, some looked like they wanted a fight, most just curious.
    “Listen up, please,” I said. The rest turned my way and the volume dropped. Some kept whispering.
    “I need all your attention for a few segs or you might die in space.”
    A chick who looked about eighteen G-years, dressed like somebody’s trophy wife or escort said, “We’ve lived in space most of our lives.” She was leaning across a bunk, careful not to mess her hair, but still taking two people’s seating spaces.
    I looked back at her and asked, “On a ship? Or just one of those artificial island hotel thingies?” I waved.
    She wanted to argue. “Pressure, water, bulkheads, clock cycle. Got it.”
    I was learning quickly how a military instructor felt.
    “Where’s your nearest egress? What is your evacuation drill? What is your hull breach drill?”
    She looked at me and started to open her mouth again. It looked out of proportion. She didn’t know how to do lipstick.
    I cut her off with, “Shut the hell up and listen.”
    She still came back with, “Yeah? Who the hell put you in charge?”
    I didn’t raise my voice. I did lean forward slightly and focus on her. “The captain. If you have a problem I’ll give you a chit to see him. He might just leave you here. There are plenty of others who won’t cause trouble.”
    That got her attention, but I wanted to drive it home.
    “So, can I be in charge now, Miss Gio Pants Ensemble with Diamond Accents?