Mercury - Part 6

Part 6- Mars

EXPERIMENT 115, 13/11/2024

(Two figures sit across from each other at the table. One is a middle-aged man, the other is a grey wolf recom of age six. The recom appears to be quite tall for its age, and quite strong)
RESEARCH ASSISTANT: "Hello, Mars. Today we would like to ask you a few questions."
MARS: "Yes, sir."
RA: "First, will you go get that other chair. (RA gestures towards a chair at the other side of the room. Mars complies: It gets the chair and brings it back.) On second thought, bring it back. (Mars complies, comes back to the seat at the table.) Hmmm. Well, maybe we will need it. Go get it for me. (Mars complies, gets the chair and brings it back to the table. Pause.) Mars will you put the chair back. (Mars complies, returns to the table and sits down)."
M: "Sir, I will follow your order regardless of how many times you give it. You don't have to spend any more time confirming that."
RA: "I was going to ask fourteen more times, Mars."
M: "I would have brought it back and forth fourteen times, sir."
RA: "I believe that you would have. Why?"
M: "Because you outrank me. Some are meant to command, others to serve."
RA: "Very good, Mars. There's a reason you're my favourite."
M: "I appreciate the sentiment, sir."
RA: "Would you follow an order to kill another living being?"
M: "It depends on the ranking of the one ordering, and the target, sir."
RA: "Would you kill any one of your playmates at my command?"
M: "Yes, sir."
RA: "Even Neptune? Or Jupiter?"
M: "Without hesitation, sir."
RA: "Uranus? Venus? Saturn?"
M: (Hesitation) "Venus, sir?"
RA: "Yes."
M: "It would make me very sad to do it, sir. The others, without hesitation."
RA: "Mercury?"
M: "Sir, Mercury is broken. It doesn't even deserve to be called one of my playmates. I would be happy to kill Mercury."

***

Amundsen, the tunnel capital of Mars. Instead of taking the Lunarian approach and building a single large, more natural enclosure, it seems like Mars decided to build down into dark tunnels instead. I had landed my ship up on the surface, and Samara and I had descended down into the labyrinthine tunnels of Mars. This is where you go for body modification, genetic rewriting, techno-implants and anything else that's cutting edge and potentially dangerous.

I considered how much Samara and I stood out, among all this Martian fashion. While Samara seemed to vary stylistically, it was still nothing compared to these people with glowing facial tattoos, implanted spikes, armour-styled clothing. The natives here, especially the young ones, seemed to favour the bright and the shiny, an image fostered by the corporations that ran the place. It was pretty to look at, but I knew after my last contract with the Martians went sour that it's not quite as pretty as on the surface.

"You know what?" I said, "I'm gonna go have myself a little me time. Hit up the bar. Meet me later back at the place?" This was just a signal for splitting up. We both had leads in Amundsen for ways to get in the Designer Genes undetected, so we had planned on the way over to split up.

I went to the dance club. My contact was a ferret recom with glowing whiskers, red eyes and fluorescent green facial tattoos. An appearance like that is not exactly inconspicuous. Which was good, since I was sure he didn't want to be found by me. I just happened to know his hangout, and he knew that he owed me a big favour.

Of course, I had only assumed that he would be easy to find. As I stepped into the dance club as the bouncer glanced over my fake Martian ID for the name 'Larry Dercar'. He snorted at my choice of dress (a Lunar style sports jacket and dress pants) but let me in. Almost everyone in this club had some kind of fluorescent facial tattoos, I noticed, and many of them with glowing whiskers. Ugh. Finding a ferret in a dark club like this would require more searching than anticipated.

Or luck. The ferret put his hands on my hips and said, "Ohh, I don't think I've seen you around here. Are you-" The ferret's words were cut off by the look of horror on his face as he looked up into mine. "Oh. Oh my gods."

"Hey Lewis. You should at least buy a guy a drink before feeling him up like that," I suggested, grabbing the ferret by his shoulders. "But for now, let's find a nice quiet place to chat?"

He nodded and said nervously, "Aha ha, anything for an old friend..." He glanced around quickly as if trying to find an escape route and, finding none, smiled as pleasantly as he could as I guided him towards a more secluded room, meant exactly for the kinds of sexual acts I wanted the other patrons to think he and I were engaging in, gently pushing him by the shoulders.

Once there, I shoved him onto the bed, to which he protested, "Ah, Mr. Racer, I'm really not into any kind of rough stuff!"

"And I'm not really into you. But here we are," I said, leaning against the wall. "You're still always getting into trouble, I take it. You don't look like you've changed a bit since I last saw you."

Lewis shrugged a bit uncomfortably and said, "Look, I appreciate what you did for me the last time you were in town, but if anyone knows I'm talking to you, Mr. Racer-"

"Hush now. You see that I'm in disguise? It might not be so obvious when we're up close like this but, as you might've noticed, from a distance it's pretty hard to recognize me." Oh, the wonders of dye. I chose bright metallic blue for my trip to Mars, since that was just coming into style there at the time. I shrugged and assured him, "I'm sure that I'll be able to keep you from harm, anyways. Anyways, you know Designer Genes, right?"

"I'm weari-"

"I mean the company." I sniffed the air lightly, and continued, "I need a way to get my hands on some blueprints for the main buildings. And don't you work for some kind architectural firm?"

Lewis raised his eyebrow at me and noted, "You're always talking business. Maybe that's why I don't like your visits... That could get me fired. Or worse. You know how it is, here. Corporate espionage is one of the worst crimes you can commit, in terms of punishments."

"Next to smoking," I joked.

"Nothing funny about smoking," Lewis commented with a small frown. Martians were usually kind of quick to defend the no-smoking policy on the planet, given that in these kinds of domes, everyone has a shared air supply. Me, the policies just made me want to take up smoking even more. Lewis continued, "Anyways, I'm too pretty for prison. I wouldn't fit in."

"Mmm. I'm sure. Well, like I said, you owe me one. And I intend to collect. It's up to you to make sure that you don't get caught, not me. 'Sides, haven't you done this kind of thing before? What makes it such a big deal this time?"

"Designer Genes is our biggest, most powerful company right now. It's so massively huge! The politicians will bow to their every command. So will any court," said Lewis, shaking his head slowly. He bounced a couple of times on the bed. "Maybe I can find other ways of making it up to you?"

"You know I don't swing that way, Lewis."

"I don't think you swing any which way..." said the ferret recom, pouting a bit. "I just really, really can't lose my job right now."

I looked at him and furrowed my brow slightly, and he recoiled a bit at my expression, "Lewis. You are going to get me the blueprints. We aren't even discussing it anymore. This? What's happening now? This is not a discussion. We aren't going to weigh the pros and cons. You have fourty-eight hours to deliver them to me."

Lewis looked up and nodded slowly, before running out the room. I wondered idly how Sam did. I felt that I did a pretty good job throwing my weight around this time. I mussed up my jacket a bit, just for good measure, and headed back out onto the dance floor.