by C. Gockel
11 * Planet: Rekoria * GDAT 3237.037*
EARLY IN THE afternoon, Luka and Seshulla Zheer sat in her office at the priceless antique she called a worktable, waiting for the expensive realtime intergalactic trid connection to be made with an equally expensive finder on New Ares named Elellor Jalinok, whom La Plata had hired to research the possibility of a hybrid planet. The man had an excellent reputation for uncovering the unusual. If the idea hadn’t panned out, he’d have just sent a report, so there must be something to it.
Zheer was sipping after-lunch coffee from a delicate porcelain cup that was almost translucent and reading the news in Mandarin as they waited. Luka cupped his hands around his larger coffee mug for warmth. Zheer kept her office chillier than he liked. For once, Luka felt no need to pace. As interesting as the case was, as much as he wanted justice for his friends, he was far more intrigued and unsettled by the last twenty-four hours with Mairwen.
That he’d slept at all last night while knowing she was awake in the next room was a miracle. He felt a growing emotional connection with her that fueled his desire. He’d had to consciously keep himself away from her since she’d reported for duty at noon, especially when they were alone in his office. She’d retreated to the passivity of a dispassionate security guard, but he saw the subtle signs that she was aware of him in the same way.
There was also sadness in her at odd moments, and he was afraid she was regretting admitting she had feelings for him. Whether she would—or could—ever let herself care for him was another matter. She had formidable self-discipline and a lot of secrets, but more than that, because of what had been done to her to transform her into a death tracker, he was sure she had no experience trusting anyone.
He distracted himself by rolling his shoulders and dropping his head to stretch his neck. The too-loose collar of his new off-the-rack shirt chafed. He splayed and cautiously tensed the fingers of his still slightly bruised and puffy left hand, welcoming the twinges of soreness because they could have been infinitely worse.
He caught Seshulla giving him speculative looks, but he didn’t care. There was no way she could guess that the kidnapping and assault had affected him far less than kissing the woman who had rescued him.
A pleasant chime interrupted his contemplation, which he’d decided was a better word for what he’d been doing than “brooding.” The trid blinked to life with the holographic image of an older, almost grandfatherly man seated behind a desk. After polite greetings were exchanged, the man pivoted straight to the point.
“There is an eighty-six percent chance that at least one living hybrid planet exists, and an almost sixty-percent chance it is being exploited by a pharma company.”
Luka expected the news, but the high percentages surprised him.
“Interesting,” said Zheer, “but you could have just pinged us with that data.”
“Yes, but I need input from you to narrow down the best probable locations for it.” He laced his fingers on the desk and looked straight at them. “Hybrid planets are a danger to us all. I want to make sure that when it is found, it will be dealt with properly.”
In other words, if La Plata hoped to use his information to exploit the planet for themselves instead of reporting it to Concordance Command, Jalinok would report it for them, regardless of the non-disclosure clause in their contract.
Zheer nodded. “We’re in complete agreement.”
By the end of the conversation, Luka believed La Plata had gotten its money’s worth from Jalinok. He’d identified six planets and assigned probabilities to each of them. They would all be detailed in his report, but two of them looked promising. Insche 255C was the best bet, with Noongar 18E a close second. Both were listed in Concordance’s exploration records as failed terraforms from the First Wave, so physical information about both should be available in exploration archives. After answering a few final questions, Jalinok signed off.
Zheer leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
“We’re headed for interesting times. We might have enough to keep Juno Vizla from having to pay Centaurus Transport’s shipping losses, but not enough to keep them out of court, which is why they hired us. If Loyduk Pharma is hiding a hybrid planet, a few additional discreet murders are the least of their worries.” She shook her head. “I still can’t believe we’re discussing a secret, viable hybrid planet as if it’s real.” She sighed again and looked at her cup. “I need more coffee. You?”
“No, thanks.” He couldn’t tolerate the super-caffeinated blend she favored. He’d be bouncing off the walls and hallucinating. That’s why he’d brought his own full mug with him.
She crossed to her ornate service cart for a refill. The cart was modern, but styled to match the antiques in her office. As usual, no wrinkles had dared to mar her expensive resilk suit, even though she must have been sitting for hours. “Pharma companies like Loyduk have deep pockets, and La Plata can’t take on a battalion of mercs.”
Luka nodded. “Deep pockets can also buy a lot of convenient forgetfulness and historical record modifications. We can’t just tell the government what we suspect. We’ll need public proof that can’t be explained away or lost in a bureaucratic warp.”
“Meaning someone independent has to visit the planet and get enough biological samples to show correlation with the Loyduk Pharma vaccine,” she said. “And fast. I dislike being last to the party.”
“Which planet? Or both?” he asked. “If Juno Vizla is paying, we can hire exploration xenobiologists. Wouldn’t even need permission, since the post-poisoning interdiction period for both planets ended something like four hundred years ago.”
She frowned. “True, but hiring one or more expeditions is expensive. I don’t know what I can talk Juno into. Insurance companies hire us so they can avoid spending money.” She reflexively rotated her exquisite cup in its saucer. “In the interests of speed and confidentiality, I’m considering getting sampling kits and sending our own team.”
“Risky. We’d need security. I doubt the planet is unprotected.” He could tell where this was heading. He had a lot of sample collection experience, albeit at crime scenes instead of unknown planets. She’d want him as team lead. Leadership wasn't one of his life goals, but the investigation was too important to give to someone who didn't care about it.
“I’ll go,” he said, “if I can take Morganthur.” He trusted no one else.
Zheer gave him an enigmatic smile. “I can’t say I’m surprised, after yesterday.” She crossed to her desk and sat. “I’m calling in a contract pilot. We need some expert answers about undeveloped systems. Go find out what kinds of kits and equipment would be our best option, and be back here at three.” She paused. “No, make that ten minutes before, and bring Morganthur.”
He found Mairwen in his office where he’d left her. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling at seeing her. She was in the far corner and seated, for once, instead of standing. He wondered if her knee was still bothering her. Not that she’d admit it to him if it was.
“I volunteered you for something.” He closed the door behind him.
“Did you?” she asked, with an undercurrent of cautiousness.
“La Plata is sending me on a hybrid planet hunt, and I said I wanted you with me, even though I didn’t ask you first.”
He sat at his desk to keep himself at a professional distance, but he couldn’t keep the impish grin off his face. “In my defense, it’s because of your idea that we’re going at all.”
She gave him a small smile that acknowledged his teasing. “My idea, your hypothesis. The finder concurred, then?”
“Yes, with a high probability. Seshulla wants us in her office in a couple of hours.” He tried to read her expression, but she was inscrutable. “That is, if you’re going. It’s your choice.”
“I’ll go,” she said with no hesitation. The firmness in her tone suggested he’d have a hard time stopping her.
He gave her a wide smile.
“Good. Want to read up on xenobiological sampling?” He laughed when she rolled her eyes and activated her percomp. He didn’t know how she put up with its tiny, low-res viewing field.
Two hours later, they presented themselves to Zheer’s assistant and were ushered in immediately. Nothing in Mairwen’s face gave it away, but Luka thought she was feeling wary, and he wished he knew why. Zheer could be intimidating, but she treated her employees well.
As they settled into the chairs at the worktable, Zheer said, “A contract pilot named Eve Haberville will be here at three, but first we need to deal with an internal matter.”
She called up a short file on a thin display and handed it to Mairwen to read.
“Your former supervisor, Isak Malamig, filed a formal complaint alleging you tried to murder him in the company parking garage yesterday afternoon. He asserts that you became uncontrollably angry when he told you your attitude needed improvement, and you tried to slit his throat.”
A jumble of emotions flashed through Luka, mostly disbelief and protectiveness. He looked to Mairwen, who had gone very still and expressionless.
Zheer continued. “The security vid suggests events may not have transpired as Mr. Malamig described them.”
She touched the display and the silent flat video played. Malamig approached Mairwen aggressively and spoke to her, an angry expression on his face. When she stepped aside, he lunged for her. Mairwen flung her coat at him, and they both stumbled out of frame. About fifteen seconds later, Mairwen came back in frame, carrying her coat in one hand and a gun in the other, and went into the building. A few seconds after that, Malamig staggered into view, holding a hand to the side of his neck and yelling at the door. The recording stopped.
Zheer looked at Mairwen. “What happened?”
Mairwen was absolutely still, her back ramrod straight. “Supervisor Malamig expressed unhappiness about being passed over for a promotion.” Her tone was dry and flat. “I tried to leave. He tried to grab me. I evaded. We tripped. He tried to draw his weapon. I threatened him with a knife to dissuade him. I misjudged his reaction and cut the skin on his neck. I took his weapon away and gave it to the reception desk.”
“Why didn’t you report it?”
She shrugged one shoulder slightly. “I wasn’t injured.”
She had a subtle look of resignation on her face, and Luka knew she expected not to be believed. He spoke up. “If my experience with her counts for anything, in the time I’ve worked with her, she’s always acted rationally and professionally.”
Zheer took the display back.
“Mr. Malamig,” she said as she calmly folded the display, “is an abusive ass.” She blithely ignored Mairwen’s startled look and Luka’s raised eyebrow. “He came with the security division La Plata acquired, and he’s becoming more trouble than he’s worth. I actually wish you would file a counter complaint for assault so I could talk the Security Division director into terminating his contract, but I’m guessing you won’t. Next time, if there is one, please find a way to handle him without leaving a mark.”
She stood and put the display on her desk, then took her ever-present cup to the service cart. “Coffee or tea, anyone?”
“No, thank you,” said Luka. Mairwen looked bewildered, though maybe only to his eyes. He suspected she’d been expecting to be fired on the spot, not treated like a trusted colleague. He wanted to give her some sign of reassurance, but couldn’t while Zheer was watching.
They were saved from further conversation by the arrival of Eve Haberville, the freelance pilot Luka knew La Plata had used occasionally in the past. La Plata only had one interstellar pilot left on staff, since Adina Schmidt had been murdered in the warehouse. He’d heard Haberville had a military and exploration background, and came highly recommended, including by the late Adina.
Haberville looked to be in her early thirties with beautiful features, expensively shaded black hair woven with metallic gold and blue, and a lush, hourglass figure right out of classical paintings. Her corporate suit was expertly tailored to show it off. Luka was appreciative of her beauty but curiously unaroused by the woman herself.
Zheer, Haberville, and he discussed the pros and cons of using the company’s slower corporate ship versus a faster but pricier rental with wilderness-landing capability. They also discussed logistics, such as how much firepower to carry, and how big the team should be. Zheer ultimately decided they’d tackle the most likely candidate for a hybrid planet on their own, in the interest of keeping it off net. If it turned out to be nothing, and she could get the client to pay, she would contract an independent exploration spacer for the second candidate.
Mairwen listened to everything but said nothing. Luka noticed Haberville giving her a few speculative looks, clearly wondering why Mairwen was at the meeting, but she didn’t ask, and he didn’t offer. He’d let Zheer handle it if Haberville brought it up.
Zheer gave Luka and Haberville top priority assignments to get cost estimates for their areas of expertise so she could put together a proposal for the client, then sent them on their way. After a brief discussion with Haberville on who would handle what, Luka stopped by the Tech Division to get a thincomp. He handed it to Mairwen. “You need more than that prehistoric percomp from Security Division if you’re going to get anything done.”
When they returned to his office, he said, “You have more patience than I do for reading odd things. See what you can find on hybrid planets, especially related to safety.”
She nodded and sat as he opened the large display on his desk to start on the estimates. Not his favorite thing to do, but better than Zheer’s job of having to present the budget to the client and convince them to pay. He worked diligently on getting the numbers quickly because Zheer, forecaster that she was, thought there was a need to hurry. So did he. He had the feeling that Onndrae wouldn’t be the last target if they didn’t take the initiative.
Forty minutes later, he shot the estimate into Zheer’s dataspace and breathed a sigh of relief. He saw Mairwen was still making notes, but she looked up to meet his gaze.
“Where is your safehouse tonight?” she asked.
“I have no idea.” He’d completely forgotten Zheer had promised to arrange something for him, since his townhouse wasn’t safe for now. He pinged Zheer’s assistant, only to discover no one had told her to look.
“I’ll do my best, but at this point, I’d be lucky to find you a prepaid sleep pod at the spaceport. Can you stay wherever you did last night?”
He looked to Mairwen. She nodded.
He told the assistant he could, then asked her to find him something for tomorrow night and disconnected.
Another thought struck him and he turned to Mairwen. “Did they at least remember to retrieve your company vehicle?”
“Yes,” she said. “Do you want to go somewhere?”
Mairwen’s apartment had several virtues, chief among them Mairwen herself, but her cupboards were practically bare. “Have you ever had East Indian food?”
“No.”
“Good, it will be a new experience, what with your sheltered life and all.” When she returned his grin with a small smile of her own, he wanted to kiss her.
“I’m hungry. Bring that comp with you. We can work remotely.”
Mairwen finished the last swallow of water and put her glass in the drawer with the rest of the dishes. The ancient, built-in sanitizer would cycle after it detected no activity for a while. It was the first time in months she’d had enough dirty dishes to use it. She watched Luka read the display she’d handed him with a summary of the mostly speculative information she had found on hybrid planets. It had taken her a while to think of him by his first name because it felt too distractingly personal, but now it felt… right.
He was sitting at the breakfast bar again, with one elbow on the counter. His short-sleeved, red knit shirt hugged his chest nicely, as did the dark flexsilk pants that covered the rest of him. She was amused that even his casual clothing e
xhibited a sense of style. The masculine shape and power of his well-defined bare arms and feet stirred her hormones, and she wondered if that was normal or a tracker aberration.
The autumn day had turned bitter cold with the promise of a hard winter, and she’d turned the heat up to compensate because she knew Luka would like it. She wished she’d thought to do it the previous night. She wondered idly if he’d grown up in a warm climate zone and missed it. He’d look good in a native sarong. Or out of one.
She thought about changing into more comfortable clothes, but concluded she was still on duty, and there would be no running on public trails that evening. She made a mental note to offer him the use of the exercise machine. It was the only form of entertainment she had, other than the cork wall she used for daily knife practice. Her apartment had no other amenities, not even a built-in wallcomp or an outside window. It was boring, but secure.
He looked up to meet her gaze and smiled, like he was happy she was watching him. It made her breath catch.
“I want to cook a real meal for you,” he said.
“Why?” The direction of his thoughts baffled her.
“Because I’d like to do something nice for you.” Her confusion must have shown, because his smile widened. “I’m trying to impress you so you’ll want to spend more time with me.”
Did he mean he wanted her as his primary security assistant, or did he want to meet with her when neither of them was working? She shook her head and looked away, then back to him, unable to hide her bewilderment.
“I have no...”
Would cooking for her signify he had feelings for her beyond the physical and wanted to change their relationship? And if so, to what? She tried again.
“Will we...” She trailed off. She didn’t even know what to ask.
She was out of her depth and didn’t know how to explain how profoundly inexperienced she was in social interactions and emotions.
Finally, she said, “I’m not normal.” Her chest felt hollow.