Carson Mach 1: The Atlantis Ship by A. C. Hadfield

down.”
    “I can imagine,” Mach said, detecting a hint of a slur in the guard’s words. “Can I get you another drink?”
    “Sure, I’ll have a nebula bomb.”
    Mach returned to the bar and ordered. While the fidian mixed the orange-colored drink, he slipped the atomic blue capsule out of his breast pocket and pulled it apart. A small part of the white powder inside sprinkled onto the muddy footprint-stained brown plastic floor. He rubbed it with his boot and cupped the two sections in his hand.  
    The fidian handed Mach the drink. He briefly lowered it, emptied the contents of the capsule inside, and sloshed the drink around, ensuring it dissolved any traces of powder on the insides of the glass.  
    Sanchez watched him approach and gave a quick wink. They’d used this technique before. The guard downed his current drink and wrapped his fingers around the nebula bomb. “Thanks. Next one’s on me.”
    “There’s no need. Enjoy it.”
    Lassea and Danick eyed Mach suspiciously, but they didn’t need to know what was going on. He sat next to the guard and waited. The two horans ordered more drinks. They would provide the route into the prison after he got the pass.  
    “I’m not feeling so good,” Danick said. “Do you mind if we go back to the shuttle?”
    “You haven’t finished your chaser,” Sanchez said. “Mind if I have the honor?”
    “Sure,” Danick said. He stood and pressed a hand against the table to steady himself, clearly affected by only half of the drink. Lassea paused for a moment. Mach gestured his head toward the entrance. She downed her drink, grimaced, and left with her brother. That was another tick in the box for Lassea.  
    “Drink up,” Mach said to the guard. “I’ll get you another.”
    “I’m happy if you’re paying.”
    The guard got to the bottom of his nebula bomb and his eyelids drooped. He sat back in his chair and frowned at Mach. “Who are you?”
    “He’s gone,” Sanchez said. “How many capsules did you put in?”
    “Just the one. I think it’s time we gave him a breath of fresh air.”
    They grabbed an arm each and propped the guard up. The fidian barman looked across and shook his head. Mach wrapped the guard’s thin arm around his shoulder. “Just taking him outside to clear his head.”
    The guard continued to babble. His speech became unrecognizable and a line of saliva dangled from his bottom lip. Sanchez propped him up on the other side. The guard’s dangling feet scraped across the floor as they dragged him outside.  
    They carried the guard around the side of the tavern and leaned him against the side of its rough block wall. Mach patted down his pockets and felt a square object in the front left of his cargo pants. He fished his hand inside and produced a security swipe.  
    “Bingo,” Mach said. “Let’s get him back inside. We don’t want him to die of hypothermia out here.” Mach’s breath plumed in the frigid air.  
    “What’s our next move?” Sanchez said, showing no effect of the cold weather.
    “We’ll just be kept overnight for a disturbance, right?”
    “Yeah. They’ll search you, though.”
    “No problem. Can you get your tools in?”
    “Does a balto shit in the woods?”
    Mach forced the swipe against his right forearm. It punctured through a section of artificial skin and he slipped the swipe between two of his cybernetic muscles. He didn’t bother asking Sanchez where he concealed his multipurpose tool.  
    They dragged the delirious guard back to the table and placed him on a chair. He slumped forward and rested his face in his hands. Mach had never seen an atomic blue have such a powerful effect, but he’d never tried after a skinful of booze.
    “Ready to have a little fun with those two horans?” Mach said.  
    “I’ll take the left one, the ugly one.”
    The horans placed their glasses on the table and watched as Mach and Sanchez approached.  
    Mach picked up the closest horan’s glass. “Mind if I