The Gray Market: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 5)

by Valerie J Mikles

  “Something tech. Got it.” Ayize ran from the house and Tray felt shivers through his whole body. The one warrior left standing had run back toward the fight.

  “Detective Serevi,” Demissie said, pressing a finger to his Feather. “We didn’t make it to the rendezvous. We’re stuck at Fincastle. Can you bring the boat here?”

  “Tray, can you hack the lock?” Morrigan asked, running her fingers over the collar.

  Tray shook his head. “One wrong move and she’s dead.”

  “If we take her back to Lois, will it make a difference? Will it loosen if she’s closer to its ‘master’?” Morrigan asked desperately. “Tray, another few minutes and she’ll have permanent brain damage!”

  Tray crossed his arms, defensive, but helpless. Jamese had a kid. She’d given him parenting advice when he’d felt helpless. “Hawk, if I tell you how this works, can you get it off?” Tray asked.

  “Captain asked me before and I couldn’t,” Hawk whispered, rubbing his face. “I need to see it in my head or I can’t unlock it.”

  “Occ?” Amanda offered, reaching into the pocket of her maroon coat and pulling out the device.

  “Different eyes,” Hawk replied, nestling a little closer to her.

  “You can do this, Hawk,” Demissie said, chewing his fingernails. “This is the power Ketlin wanted to steal from you. You have to try.”

  Tray didn’t want to force Hawk, but he called up an image on his Virp. It wasn’t detailed, nor was it accurate, but it was a start. “We don’t have much time,” Tray said.

  “Sure. No pressure,” Hawk said, crawling to Tray, looking nervously at the device then at the projected image. Hawk straddled Jamese’s chest and hunched over, trying to get an angle on the collar without blocking what little light came through the back window. “Can at least one of you keep an eye out for bad guys?”

  “I see them. Bad guys,” Amanda said distantly, her eyes moving between her feet and the back window.

  “Enn. The Enn are almost here,” Demissie reported.

  “Great, except we cannot move them,” Morrigan groused.

  Jamese’s body convulsed then froze in a bowed position.

  “Hold her still! Hold still,” Hawk said. “I almost have it! I—”

  Hawk yelped and scampered away.

  “It’s off,” Morrigan said, pressing her ear to Jamese’s chest.

  “Hawk, what’s wrong?” Tray asked, sitting up and reaching for Hawk. “Hawk, you did it. One down; two to go.”

  Hawk shook his head, his eyes filled with tears. He crouched in the corner, sobbing and Tray crawled over to console him.

  “He felt it,” Amanda said, slithering across the crates for a top-down view of the emergency. “He snapped her neck.”

  40

  Amanda sat on a crate under the window, scrutinizing the scrapes on her wrists, using the Occ to see the depth and extent of the damage. Her memory of the last few days was more poignant than it would have been if she hadn’t been medicated. She and Jennifer had been so focused on escaping Coro, they hadn’t expected enemy fire from Ketlin. Amanda had woken up alone in a dark, dirty room.

  The Ketlin scavengers took her shoes, her mother’s necklace, her Virp, and anything in the pockets of her coat before shoving her into a closet. She’d hidden her Occ in her hair, but it still adjusted her vision to see in the closet. The door was covered in scratch marks and streaked in blood. She was sure she’d been left there to die.

  Her memories after that were hazy. She recalled smoke and gas, interrogations about the Disappeared. She remembered the stick of blood draws and a kind man pressing an oxygen mask to her face telling her to hang on one more day.

  The boathouse opened to the water, letting in the light and a spray of river mist as the Enn arrived. EMT’s rushed to put oxygen masks over Jamese, Danny, and Saskia. The added oxygen revived Danny slightly, and only made Saskia struggle harder.

  Amanda slipped off the crate and picked up Jamese’s inactive collar. Hawk shrank into the corner but she nestled next to him.

  “Take it,” Amanda said.

  “I killed her,” Hawk whimpered, hiding his face as the medics added brace after brace to Jamese.

  “We’re not in the wilderness,” Amanda reminded him, petting his soft, red hair. “We have medicine here. She can recover.”

  Hawk twitched, but kept his hands tucked under his armpits.

  “Take this,” Amanda insisted again. “Use it. Test it. Figure out how to help the others. You can do this, Hawk. We’ll recover, too. We have help, now. We’re not alone.”

  Tray dabbed the dampness from Danny’s face, terrified by his brother’s icy skin. Hawk squatted over Danny’s chest, one hand on Jamese’s collar, the other on Danny’s creating click after click as he orchestrated the release. Tray had been going crazy the past few weeks, doing the rehab exercises to get back to walking, and he couldn’t imagine what would happen if his brother were paralyzed even temporarily.

  Morrigan had given Danny a muscle relaxant to keep him still while Hawk worked, but it was up to Hawk not to trigger the dead man switch that snapped Jamese’s neck. Detective Serevi stood by the door, one foot in the boat already. His arms were crossed, and his eyes were on Saskia, but something kept the man from going to her. Saskia had been given a muscle relaxant as well. Her eyes were closed and when she found the strength, she’d press her thumb to her middle finger, signaling her attempt to meditate into calmness.

  “We’re working on it,” Tray assured, leaning over her, kissing away her tears when she opened her eyes. The assurance seemed to bring her emotions to the surface and make things worse in terms of breathing.

  “Two,” Hawk whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. Danny’s collar released with a click, and Hawk wrestled it off of Danny’s neck a fraction of a second before the pressure switch snapped. The collars were designed to be resistant to tampering, but Hawk had found a way. Hawk shifted over to Saskia, then closed his eyes, panting for breath.

  “He needs an infusion,” Morrigan explained, giving Hawk an injection. “By my estimate, he’s down a half a pint of blood. If this weren’t an emergency, I wouldn’t be letting him do this.”

  “I can do it,” Hawk whispered, fumbling for the loose collar. He moved his hand, drawing in the constricting band, then releasing it. When he released it, the switch popped, putting a high-pressure pin directly into the neck. That was what had caused Jamese’s neck to break. Had the collar been situated differently, the pin might have broken her windpipe. It was meant to be brutal. Hawk kept practicing with the collar, trying to get it so he could successfully release the constricting band and jam the pin. Tray looked away, but even hearing the practice made his stomach turn.

  Danny’s hand tapped against the floor, and he let out a soft grunt that Tray knew to be a summons.

  “Don’t try to talk, brother,” Tray said, sitting up so Danny could see him. “Get some air in your system. As soon as Saskia’s free, we’re moving to the boat.”

  Danny closed his eyes and made two grunts. When Danny had been dying from the Havara Pytr, Tray had learned to interpret that sound as Amanda’s name.

  “Amanda’s giving Hawk some moral support,” Tray said. “So she says. I think she just doesn’t want to get on the boat without us.”

  “Can’t I do both?” Amanda asked, leaning her head back against one of the crates.

  The front door to the boat house swung open suddenly, and Detective Serevi sprang into action, drawing his weapon, aiming it at the intruder. Hawk swore and cowered over top of Saskia’s body, his fingers curling into claws.

  Ayize came in, pushing Roland Ketlin in front of him. Both men were bruised and bleeding, but Ayize held a shock dart to Ketlin’s neck, and by the burns had already had cause to use it.

  “Couldn’t get to Lois, boss, so I brought you the next in line,” Ayize reported.

  “Roland Ketlin, you’re under arrest,” Detective Serevi said, stepping around Danny and Saskia
, pulling restraints from his belt.

  “Wait, Detective!” Tray said. “Ketlin, can you get this collar off her?”

  Roland’s lips twitched, and he rolled his shoulder against Ayize’s grip. “Only Lois had the release code. I tried to tell your brute here.”

  “Okay, now you can arrest him,” Tray dismissed. He touched Hawk’s shoulder, hoping the interruption hadn’t hurt the process.

  “Screw you, Vimbai,” Roland spat, his beady eyes blazing with anger, his pupils dilated just enough to tell Tray he was high. “You were meant to discredit the woman, not kill her!”

  “Roland, she was trafficking human slaves,” Tray said, standing to face the man. Black spots threatened his vision, but he felt Morrigan come to his side and catch his arm. He was surprised Roland hadn’t accused her, but Roland hadn’t been on the porch to see her kill Lois.

  “And you’re buying them,” Roland spat, wrestling against Ayize’s grip.

  “No, I’m not. We’re not,” Tray said, motioning between himself and Morrigan. “We only just learned about the Vimbai business.”

  “You’ve been bringing Panoptica from Terrana for years!” Roland accused. “You bring them here and they’re never seen again.”

  “Because they’re political refugees whose identities were changed for their own protection. I brought them here to be free,” Tray explained, clenching his jaw.

  “How many did Lois capture?” Detective Serevi interrupted, putting out a hand, indicating that he wanted to lead this interrogation.

  “Why should I tell you?” Roland grumbled.

  “What did you intend to do with them after this mutiny?” Serevi tried. “Did you intend to release them? Are they even in a condition to be released?”

  “Why should I talk? You won’t listen to me.” Roland clamped his jaw and looked up. The Detective proceeded to put him in cuffs, and Tray worried that arresting the man would only worsen their troubles with the Ketlin clan. The group needed some leader to fill the void Lois had left, and the man who raised moral objection to slave trading would have been Tray’s first choice.

  “I will listen. I want you to get Ketlin out of this despicable business. And I trust that you can, Roland Ketlin,” Tray said, laying it out as simply as possible.

  “Trust,” Roland spat. “You don’t know me.”

  “I know Kit trusts you,” Tray hinted.

  Roland’s eyes flashed with anger. “What did you do to Kit?” he demanded. “Do you plan to ransom her? I don’t pay for what’s mine either!”

  “I wouldn’t ask you to,” Tray said. He needed to win the man’s trust, somehow. It was the only way he could be sure Ketlin’s grudge wouldn’t continue and Hero could safely walk the streets in Clover some day. “She’s safe for now. She asked for my protection.”

  “You’re lying,” Roland growled, clenching his fists, tugging against his cuffs. It was pointless for Roland to fight in this situation, but there was a child’s life on the line, and that was a level of protectiveness Tray was only beginning to understand. “You just said she trusts me. Why would she need your protection?”

  “She’s afraid of a man named Tobias. He’s beating her,” Tray said carefully. It was one of the girl’s more disturbing confessions of the afternoon, and one Tray didn’t know how to handle, because the serious bombshells were mixed between humor and sarcasm.

  “She’s always hated her stepfather,” Roland growled. “If you shower her with your fancy-glove luxuries, she’ll never come back to her family.”

  “I have no intention of showering her with anything,” Tray said. “The Enn will look into this matter with Tobias.”

  “The Enn have. Haven’t they, Detective?” Roland snorted, his lips twisting like he was about to spit on the detective. “Enn don’t care about Ketlin affairs. My Kristy died, and they did nothing. Violence is just population control for the poor. He has me in chains and hasn’t even told me my crime.”

  “The conversation wandered,” Detective Serevi sneered. “Ketlin, you’re under arrest for the murder of Jennifer Swift.”

  This time, Roland did spit.

  “She’s not dead,” Amanda spoke up, her voice quivering. “He wouldn’t kill her. He saved me. He promised to save her.

  “She is,” Tray said, reaching for Amanda’s hand, but failing to connect. “I saw… I saw her body.”

  “You saw a picture of her body. It was staged,” Amanda insisted. “Tell him. Tell him and he’ll listen.”

  Tray looked at Roland who had clammed up again, but clearly had something to say. “I am listening to you,” Tray said.

  Roland seethed, seeming humiliated by the acknowledgment. “It was the fastest way to get you here,” Roland muttered, kicking at the floor. “The Enn saw bodies washing up for months. I made it obvious there was one Ketlin to blame, and do you know where their investigations led? Nowhere. I couldn’t stop Lois on my own. I had to bring your friends into it! I saw every one of those endemics as human. Did you?”

  “I do,” Tray said, looking the man squarely in the eye, wondering what it would take to get him to believe the statement. “I see Kit, too. She’s safe now, and she will return home when she feels it’s safe.”

  “Jen? Alive?” Danny gasped.

  “Don’t try to talk,” Morrigan ordered, letting go of Tray’s arm to attend to her patient.

  “If Jennifer Swift is not dead, where is she?” Detective Serevi asked.

  “I couldn’t keep her with the others,” Roland said. “I had to make Lois think I drained her and dumped the body.”

  “Show me,” the Detective ordered.

  Roland held up his cuffed wrists, indicating he wouldn’t so long as he was tied up. Detective Serevi summoned two deputies from the boat before conceding.

  “When you get that torture device off of my daughter, take the boat,” the Detective said. “Go straight to Olcott trauma. They’re expecting you.”

  Hawk lifted the collar off Saskia’s neck and showed them. “Can I drive the boat?” he asked eagerly.

  41

  The trip from the hospital back to the fortress was uneventful, the calm ride via pedicab giving Tray hope that his actions had somehow brought peace to the street. Ayize seemed antsy and Amanda squinted at him as if her Occ could show her the reason. Either that, or she just enjoyed seeing sweat glands magnified a thousand times. Hawk sat sideways on the bench next to Tray. He and Amanda had received infusions to replenish their stolen blood, and Morrigan insisted they leave after. As hybrids, they would always be vulnerable to abuse in a hospital setting. At least, that was what her paranoia told her, and Tray agreed.

  When they arrived at the gate, it did not open. Ayize got out and entered a passcode. His hand was on his Feather, and whatever he heard, he wasn’t happy about it.

  “We’ll walk from here,” Ayize told the driver, opening the door and motioning the others out. Amanda put a hand on her hip, feeling for the stunner hidden beneath her clothes. Tray was so used to seeing her sick, he sometimes forgot she was a fighter. Hawk had a weapon, too, but he just looked lost. Tray had a pair of crutches and a stitch in his side.

  “What’s going on?” Tray asked.

  “Hopefully nothing,” Ayize said. “Martinez isn’t responding and neither of the kids have Virps.”

  “Hero,” Tray murmured, walking a little faster. “Hero!”

  Ayize grabbed the back of Tray’s shirt. “Prudence.”

  “Daddy?” Hero said. At first, Tray didn’t see him, but then Hero blinked into the middle of the drive and ran to Tray. “Daddy, he’s back. The scary man is back!”

  Hero leapt into Tray’s arms with a force that knocked Tray to the ground.

  “Where, Hero? Where did you see the bad man?” Ayize asked.

  “In the house! He came to my room,” Hero said, clinging to Tray. Hawk clued in to Tray’s distress and helped Tray to sit up and wrangle his son into a more comfortable position. Tray still felt like his insides had been ripped
apart again.

  Amanda and Ayize approached the house, weapons drawn. Ayize tried calling Martinez again.

  “Where’s Kit?” Tray asked, hugging Hero. “Was she hiding with you?”

  “I had her hand, but I couldn’t take her with me,” Hero said. “I tried. I did it once, but I couldn’t do it the second time.”

  “That’s okay, Hero. We’ll find her,” Tray reassured. It wasn’t until he saw Hawk’s progressive exhaustion when removing the collars that he realized the hybrid tricks actually took a significant amount of energy.

  “You really want this girl?” Sikorsky sat casually on the Zenzele’s porch swing, his arm around Kit, his stunner pressed to her cheek. “I want my grandson.”

  Tray’s stomach dropped. “She’s just a kid. Do you really need to traumatize her like that?”

  “She’s a Ketlin,” Sikorsky shrugged, pushing the girl in front of him as he stood. His crystal eyes and pale skin reflected the bright green landscaping, making him look like a goblin. “She is safe in this world. My grandson isn’t. You can’t protect him. I can.”

  “Is that why you took Mikayla?” Tray asked. “I nearly had her free.”

  “No you didn’t,” Kit snorted, seeming offended that he wasn’t giving her credit for her hack of the system. Her expression was hard, and despite her youth, she acted like she got threatened with stunners in the face far too often.

  Tray shot her a look and she crossed her arms, but before they broke eye contact, he caught the flash of fear.

  “You have no idea what I’ve done to make this street safe,” Tray persisted. “Mikayla and Hero can live here. We’ll be fine now. We’re fine!”

  “You asked that I reunite mother and son,” Sikorsky said. “This is how it must be. This is what Mikayla wants.”

  “He lies,” Hawk countered, pressing close to Tray so that Hero was sandwiched between them. “I was on his boat. He has Mikayla prisoner. I spoke to her. She doesn’t want his protection.”

  Sikorsky’s lips twisted in a glower, but in a flash of motion, Ayize fired his weapon and Amanda swooped in, diving into Kit and rolling on the ground. They were clear before Sikorsky’s body hit the ground.