I Can Explain!

Mariem ripped off the tight coveralls as the cargo bay doors clanged shut. She tried to explain their situation to Carlos in a way that wouldn’t give him a stroke. She was failing. He sputtered and paced, his hands dancing flamenco to the cante jondo of his rant.

“So, I say ‘Don’t hire any fringe-hackers, Mariem’ and then you go after public enemy número uno. What is it about this one that you just had to have her?” He landed on a stool; his dancing hands collapsed to his forehead.

Mariem grabbed a terry towel from the fallen cart and wiped the blood off her chest. Then she knelt and shoved the spilled supplies into the bin. “She had solid ratings on the station net. I went after her before the alerts went out.” She righted the cart, but paused before standing with a huff. “Also... we’re friends.”

Carlos looked up from his hands, his eyebrows raised. “Amigas? Desde cuando?” He squinted at Simonee, who sat back against a crate at the far end of the bay. She met his eyes for half a second, then glanced away.

Mariem hoisted the unconscious officer over her shoulder and carried him through the rear hatch without answering.

Carlos leaped after her, wagging a finger in the air. “No, no, no-no-no-no! Don’t you put on the busy-act just to avoid the subject.”

Mariem stopped in the hydroponics bay, a three-meter-square closet jammed with vegetables for the long commute. With a grunt, she dropped the officer into an aluminum chair and glared back at Carlos.

“I am busy,” she hissed. “This guy’s not gonna stay out forever. I don’t want him to wake up and be able to identify us by the sound of your kvetching.”

“Bien, then you can talk and tie up the prisoner at the same time.” He rolled his eyes and groaned. “Que lastima! We came here to sell toys that bring joy to the lives of little children and now we have a fucking prisoner!”

Mariem crinkled her nose and, spat, “Don’t be so dramatic. This wasn’t part of the plan—I had to improvise.” She unbuckled the guard’s flak-vest and pulled it off, along with his shirt.

“Exactamente, there was no plan!” He leaned against the open hatchway and crossed his arms. “Now, just tell me, how do you know that girl?”

Mariem didn’t answer right away. She worked the prisoner’s belt, stripping off his pants and everything else. Carlos looked the other way, but spun back when she muttered, “The Eleos.”

“Eleos?” His brow furrowed over a deep frown, and he counted silently on his fingers.

“The eye...” He mumbled, before his eyes popped wide. “Mierda! Mariem, she’s a construct?”

Mariem nodded.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, he gazed up at her. “Did you cut out their eyes?”

That night on the Eleos still haunted her. The shipping container loomed like a dark monolith in the dim light of the cargo hold. Hopeful, green eyes peered out at her through ventilation slits. They vanished as she slid a butter knife into the slit; they reappeared wet with understanding.

Mariem rushed in the next morning to find moaning bodies rocking on the floor with blood seeping from empty sockets. The construct handler ranted over the mess, kicking one of them in the ribs, but Mariem held her tongue. The green-eyed one was missing.

Gently, Mariem pushed Carlos away and turned. She grabbed a handful of zip-ties from the drip-system shelf and secured the officer to the chair.

“Of course not, you idiot,” she murmured, jutting her chin toward the cargo bay. “She did that. Or maybe they all did it to themselves.”

She never asked Simonee; she was pretty sure she didn’t want to know the answer.

Carlos looked at the open hatch. “Eww.”

Mariem threw the zip-ties at the deck, and they scattered. “I did give her the knife, though. You don’t understand. She begged me for help, and you know how I feel about SynBio and their products. They were going to destroy her just because she was different! Six runs to Mars, Carlos. Six batches I personally oversaw for transport. I made myself see them as cargo, nothing more. Until one finally asked me for help and I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Carlos shook his head. “That’s why you transferred to security, isn’t it? I thought it was a good fit—a sign of ambition. I wish you would have told me.”

“Seriously? You wanted me to tell Admiral Carlos Santiago that I stole a synthetic life-form from cargo and had her hidden away in my quarters?”

Carlos grumbled and waggled his head. “You have a point there.”

Mariem turned back to the naked officer, pulled a pillowcase over his head, and stepped back.

Carlos nodded at their prisoner. “You’re a little too good at that, ya sabes?”

Mariem didn’t say anything—couldn’t. Her jaw clenched against the heat in her eyes, and she hid them from Carlos.

He sighed. “Okay. Well, let’s go figure a way out of this mess.”

“I’ll be right there,” she said, drawing in a sharp, shaky breath.

Carlos laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

“I’m sorry!” She blurted.

“Ay, cariño, you know why I love you, right? Because, even when you do the wrong thing, it’s always for the right reason. I’m going to go chat with your little chica. You take your time.”

He left. Mariem punched the supply cabinet. The metal door caved.