Free Black Hole Sun by David Macinnis Gill

trucks rumble by on the avenue. Lined up, bumper to bumper. The chain is endless and moving fast. Their engines run loud. Their drivers even louder. Laying on their horns. Spitting cuss words in English, Japanese, French, Spanish, and Farsi. I can speak three languages. I know how to cuss in seven.
    â€œIt’s the right place,” I yell over the noise. The station exitleaves us between two hulking gray buildings coated with rust dust. Government buildings erected by the CorpComs. Great slabs of concrete stacked atop one another. No design. No ornament. No heart. No soul. They remind me of my father.
    â€œWe cross there.” I point to a circus traffic signal that’s about to change. “Go.”
    In unison, we jog to a checkpoint fifty meters ahead. This is the visitors entrance to the Norilsk Gulag. Father is expecting me.
    â€œHe is a fallen angel,” I repeat, subvocalizing.
    â€œIs that a new mantra?” Mimi says. “Or are you trying to keep from chundering your lunch again?”
    â€œI’ve not had any lunch,” I tell her.
    Vienne walks in silence beside me. I like silence. Especially in constant companions.
    â€œIs that a knock at me?” Mimi says.
    â€œYes.” I steal a glance at Vienne. Shoulders erect. Chin high. Eyes fixed straight ahead. A body that moves with such grace, it makes me want to swing her into my arms, press her body against mine, and…and…get ideas. Ideas that a chief is forbidden to have for another Regulator. Especially his second. At the checkpoint, a gate blocks the way. Two guards man the guardhouse, a female sergeant and her partner. They look bored. Until they notice the armor.
    I stop. Turn my back to the guardhouse. “Here’s enough to book the TransPort to Fisher Four,” I say, slipping some coins to Vienne.
    â€œThe rest is for?”
    â€œTo pay off guards.”
    â€œAnd you will save enough for your dinner.”
    â€œYes,” I say, although it’s a lie. Every bit of money in my possession will go to paying off somebody.
    She places a fist in an open palm, then bows slightly. The Regulator greeting. I do the same. Except when she rises, our eyes meet. Her eyes are hazel. Since when?
    â€œSince forever,” Mimi interrupts. “Are you the most unobservant Regulator in the history of the order? Yes, hazel eyes, blond hair. Height, one point nine meters. Weight—”
    â€œI got the picture,” I growl silently at her. “No reason to belabor the point.”
    â€œApparently, there is, o observant one. A Regulator notices everything, cowboy. I certainly do.”
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean? Well?” Mimi doesn’t answer me.
    â€œChief,” Vienne says. “Please don’t dawdle. If you miss the TransPort, I will be stuck riding to Hell with those two.”
    â€œCome on, Vienne. It wouldn’t be that bad.”
    â€œYes,” she says. “It would.”
    After we part company, I walk to the guardhouse. The male guard stares at me through a wire mesh screen. “Dr. Jacob Smith to see a prisoner. Medical prerogative.” I give him Father’s prisoner number.
    â€œSorry,” he says. “Didn’t catch that number.”
    I set six bits on the sill on my side of the screen. Slidethem through an open slot in the mesh. I repeat Father’s number.
    â€œAh, that prisoner. Come inside the guardhouse for inspection.” He winks. “Doc.”
    Graft and corruption. Hallmarks of the CorpCom era. Inside the house, the guard slides a lockbox across the desk while his partner, a sergeant, scans me with a wand.
    â€œFancy,” Sarge says, admiring my symbiarmor and giving it a flick. “Can’t even tell it’s armor. You’ve had an upgrade. Is this the newest line?”
    The other guard doesn’t give a rat’s petard. Just the business at hand. “Place your weapon inside the box.”
    I pull my