Doctor Who_ Transit - Ben Aaronovitch [3]
She turned round and pressed her back against the cool flank of the dispenser. You'd think, thought Kadiatu as the condensation trickled down her back, that I could make a student loan last the whole term.
The cleaning robot sidled up and sniffed her feet to see if she were rubbish.
'I've got to get out of this place,' said Kadiatu.
Acturus Terminal (Stunnel Terminus)
Ming stepped out of a VIP shuttle on to the new Central Line platform. The terminal complex was being built into the bedrock under the permafrost of the Martian pole, half the world from Olympus Mons - one stop up the line and three minutes by Transit. Only half the light fittings had been installed and a team of artificers were still laying the red and green ceramic finish on the platform walls. Ming called up the building schedule on her clipboard: the platform should have been ready for over two days. Most managers had a data projector chipped direct into their retinas but Ming liked to see where she was going and besides, you could hit people with a clipboard. A big silver arrow pointed at a wide exit. At least the direction holograms were up.
The galleria was filled with noise and dust. Both walkways were in place but the consumer outlets were still big gaps in the walls. Here and there, messages in spray paint indicated that the space had been leased in advance. A Kwik-Kurry franchise - 'Service in thirty seconds or your money back!' -was already doing trade off portable stoves, and the smell of spices mingled with the cement dust. Off-shift workers squatted in little groups eating curried goat with their fingers.
When the complex was operational passengers would pass through the galleria on their way to the Stunnel terminus. It was hoped that it would generate enough profit to cover the Stunnel operating costs. Only the Central Line would run direct trains through to Acturus and then only two an hour. The Acturans were still bargaining to up the number of through trains but STS had put its foot down. They talked about smuggling, criminals and terrorists escaping from justice, even the chance that some stupid Vrik would try freesurfing the Stunnel, but Ming knew it was really a question of money. The Stunnel's R&D costs had almost bankrupted the network, with Reykjavik talking about another fare freeze. If they didn't recover the operating costs through the ancillary income then STS would suffer a financial collapse, the knock-on effect would sink the rest of Sol's economy, chaos would stalk the land and billions would starve. At least that's the way thc-board of directors told it. Hectares of office space and housing were being lasered out of the rock to the north and south of the galleria. The total investment was staggering, it would be the biggest single below-ground complex of its type in personspace. It was being said that the STS financial comptroller was visiting his acupuncturist so often he looked like a pin cushion.
The actual terminus was something else again.
Lowell Depot (Central Line Terminus)
Dogface and Blondie were heading for the end of the line riding a maintenance engine up the Central Line's freight tunnels. The engine was open-decked and Blondie, who'd been a floozie for less than a month, kept his eyes narrowed down to slits. Unlike the enclosed and shielded passenger trains, the engine was rendered insubstantial by the boundary effect. Only the field controller, a black sphere that pulled the ghost train towards the tunnel's vanishing point, retained any solidity. Lambada said that looking too closely at infinity could turn your brain inside out. Dogface slouched in the cockpit, staring around him at the hallucinatory patterns of the tunnel wall with studied nonchalance. Lambada called that 'bad acid macho', but Blondie noticed that she went