by John Lane
“How’d you hear?”
“Oh, you know. Even large stations like this have their gossip mill. You’ve just got to know where to put your ear to hear the good stuff,” Agnes said smugly.
“Alfred, monitoring the station networks! Illegal,” Tommy warned. “Agnes, you haven’t left the Swift all week.”
“I admit it. I wasn’t sure about this big a station. I don’t remember anyplace except the Swift and the MOM. Right now the Swift is the only home I can remember,” she answered.
“Agnes, we made it here just fine, and I was with you the entire way.” Alfred comforted her. “I am also tapped into the stations net, scanning for any more interlopers. I suggest that we complete our shopping trip expediently for all our safety.”
“Need to get off this station, too,” Tommy added. “Both use caution. There will be more attempts,” Tommy warned. Checking a station directory, they made their plans for the shopping trip. Tommy had access to his personal accounts and since many of the purchases were for the ship, he was sure the Postal Service would reimburse them.
*****
They made short work of the parts, some additional tools that Agnes needed and made arrangements to have them delivered to the ship. They strolled leisurely through what passed for a crowed open-air market in the middle of the shopping district on the station. Fresh produce was on display at various vender stalls as well as other home crafted items. A true sense of community poured from the people they passed.
“Tommy,” someone shouted through the crowd. They turned to see Weltha manning a stall of her own. Her booth displayed a variety of potatoes and other tubers. When they joined her she said, “You look surprised. I have a farm on a moon. That direction,” she pointed up through one of the three great windows on the opposite side of the drum. Each drum had three great windows that ran along the floors. They let in light and helped with the psychology of living in a can.
“Everybody is a bit of a jack-of-all-trades on the Frontier. No one has just one skill.” She gave Tommy a warm smile as he introduced Agnes. As a safety measure they did not mention Alfred. “I’m a bit surprised to see you out, though” Weltha said in a more conspiratorial manner. Agnes explained their need for equipment and supplies without giving too many details.
“May I join you?” Weltha suggested. “I can be your guide through the market as well as add a layer of protection.” Although not in her sheriff’s uniform, she patted her pocket showing that she carried a small side arm if the need arose. With that reassurance, the three walked on through the market. Agnes sampled several booths with fresh fruits and vegetables. With Weltha’s guidance, she made some reasonable purchases at fair bargains.
Agnes enjoyed her time out and the chance to meet people. Tommy suspected that she had a very sociable personality. He further suspected that most of the old Agnes would surface in her personality. He wanted to know Agnes’ history almost as much as she did. This whole adventure started with her. There may be answers in her history.
Alfred interrupted his musings, “Tommy, there may be a chance to do some research on those tattoos. There is a tattoo parlor two intersections and three blocks to your nine o’clock.” Tommy made an excuse and parted with Agnes and Weltha, promising to return quickly. He noted that he passed two deputies he had met at the hotel on his way.
He easily tracked down the tattoo parlor. Having left the market area with its stalls, Tommy entered an area of the commerce drum that housed an art colony. Several media shops with window displays of both still and moving media hugged the street. He passed two authentic art galleries with actual paint on canvas. One even had an artist sitting in the walk, sketching passersby.
The tattoo parlor touted signage claiming the best body art in the system. Tommy entered a dimly lit interior with holo-posters and samples of designs. Pools of light illuminated several deserted stations along the back wall. The sole inhabitant sat at a counter, flipping through pages of tattoo art on his tablet. He perked up when a possible canvas walked through the door. “Well, hello there sweetie. What can we do for you today?”
“Interested in a tattoo design,” Tommy said, advancing deeper into the darkness.
“Well, of course. Did you have something in mind?” said Tattoo Man, his short rotund form now moving from behind the counter. He was dressed from neck to toes in a blue plastic smock and leggings. The long sleeves covered any artwork he may have had, but spikes and swirls of various colors slipped above the tight collar on his neck. His droopy eyes darted around taking Tommy in from under heavy eyelids. Tommy’s reflection shown in his glassy pupils.
Tommy held up his media player and showed examples of the Grim Reaper tattoos they’d seen on the pirates and the pirate ships. “What can you tell me about this design?”
“Oh dear me,” Tattoo Man spoke lethargically in a tenor voice as he glanced at the pictures and then at Tommy and finally back at the pictures. “You’ve really picked a classic. You can see that the artist never quite did the same thing twice.”
“Tell me something new,” Tommy suggested. He wasn’t trying to be threatening, but if it worked on this guy, then that was good with Tommy.
“Well, let’s see. Of course you know that the Grim Reaper is the symbol of death, a very common tat for years among those who lived on the fringe of society. When tattoos became mainstream again, it became very popular for the military to use them during the Wars.”
“Not in my military,” Tommy stated.
“Sorry, it was more out here in the Fringe I suspect. The artist seems very precise with the dimensions. They are all to scale relative to the sickle.”
“That’s a scythe,” Tommy corrected.
“Really, not sure what the diff is, but if you say so. Well, the scythe is the weapon of the Grim Reaper, as a symbol of harvesting souls to the afterlife, right.”
“Still old news.” Tommy warned.
“Yeah, right. Things that aren’t obvious. Well, look at the way the different reapers line up with the scythe. See, they are very precise. These are all done by the same artist. I’d say it was a template, except the reapers are all different.” He mused on, “This is good ink. This guy can work in my shop any time. Do you know who it is?”
“No,” Tommy looked at the Tattoo Man, disappointed. “Dead end.”
“Maybe not. Look through this database. You might be able to track down the artist.”
“Tommy,” Alfred signaled in his earbud, “this was an easy hack. I’ve got the data base and there is nothing here.”
“Sorry to have bothered you,” Tommy said shaking his head. He turned to go when Tattoo Man stopped him.
“Wait, don’t sell that sickle short. You might like one for yourself. Let me show you.” He tapped a few keystrokes into his tablet and brought up a design for a sickle behind a hand and hammer. It had some kind of ancient historical meaning. “OK not into history, how about this one?” This time Tommy stopped. This design still had the sickle. It had six. They had been arranged so that each pair of blades formed an almost complete circle. The three circles were a pyramid or triangle and the handles overlapped to form a fourth inner circle. It was unmistakable. It was the HAZMAT design. This one had one more haunting image. From behind the HAZMAT symbol peered the hooded face of the Grim Reaper.
“Nope, sorry. Not interested,” and Tommy left the shop.
Tattoo Man’s demeanor changed as Tommy exited. His eyes cleared and opened wider. He smiled with harmful intent. On his front tooth gleamed a grill in the shape of the sickle design he had just shown Tommy. Tattoo man spoke aloud, “Brutus here. He’s on the street, heading your way. Don’t fail.” Then he blinked out. He hadn’t been there at all.
*****
Back in the market, Weltha and Agnes were sampling peaches. Grown under low gravity, they were about the size of a watermelon on Earth. Agnes swiped the cash card that Tommy had given her to access his account. “I should say I’ve never tasted anything like them, but somehow
they are familiar,” Agnes shared with Weltha.
“I’ve read the reports Tommy filed with the Postal Service as part of my investigation. If food is helping stimulate your memories, you should come by for a home cooked meal. I know my daughter would love to meet you. She has a mischievous streak, but she is very curious about people. She really blossomed when we moved from the moon to the station. There are more people and more traffic. On the moon, she rarely saw anyone but me.”
“I guess that all depends on how soon Tommy gets word from the Central Systems Postal Service. We’ve got to find his mother,” Agnes replied.
“Shouldn’t that be left up to the proper authorities, like the system sheriff or the regional marshals? They’ve both been informed.”
“No offense, but aren’t your resources stretched kind of thin anyway. I mean, you’ve got a lot of other things to worry about and a missing doctor from a MOM, although important, can be replaced.”
With this Weltha turned to look Agnes squarely in the eye. She was dead serious when she said, “I take every life under my jurisdiction very seriously. We may be more populated now, but we all try to take care of each other here in Nu2 Lupi.” She softened as she saw Agnes flinch. She had not meant to offend. “I understand why you feel that way. You may find that attitude in other systems, but not here.” Weltha was interrupted before Agnes could apologize.
She answered her communicator. “Johnson here, go ahead, Ruby.”
“Sheriff, sorry to bother you on your off time, but thought you should know that Clemens and Twain haven’t checked in. They’re not showing up on internal security scans.”
“They were assigned to this drum, too. Thanks, Ruby. Send extra deputies to the commerce drum. I’ll trace their beat.” Weltha clicked off her com-unit. “Agnes, stay close. I can’t search for my men and protect you unless you come along.”
“Not a problem. An extra set of eyes might help.” Agnes pitched her voice not to Weltha, but to Alfred.
“Right, Agnes. Let’s take the precaution of dropping three micro avatars from your bag. They can scan your immediate surroundings. I’ll also double check the security files and back track their route,” Alfred signaled through her earbud.
“Who are we looking for?” Agnes asked. Weltha showed her the deputies’ pictures on her com-unit. “Should we be sneaky or obvious in our search?”
“Since you shouldn’t be searching at all and it’s just the circumstances that put you here at the moment, we should be sneaky,” Weltha answered. “Let’s move to the catwalks and have a look. They were partners and should be patrolling the market right now. High ground will be our best bet of spotting them.” With that, she picked up a bag of fruit that Agnes had purchased and pointed off to a side street that led to a staircase. Alfred’s spiders followed, jumping from stall to stall. One of the three hitched a ride on the back of Weltha’s pant leg.
*****
As Tommy left the tattoo parlor, he headed back toward the market. Passing by the painter, he got a smile and nod of greeting. The painter raised his brush to the canvas to apply more color when his sleeve fell down his arm, exposing a small symbol on his wrist.
Tommy, startled for a moment, stopped in the street. He had to get a closer look. So he strolled over to the artist to admire his work, strike up a conversation, and most importantly get a closer look at the tattoo on the artist wrist. As he approached, the artist continued placidly adding colors to his canvas. He made no effort to hide his wrist. In fact, he pulled up his sleeves. Tommy had a clear view of the tattoo. H was relieved to see a tattoo of two stone pillars. Between them was an open iron gate and a sunburst shown from behind bars. The gates had two thick horizontal bars, and a similar diagonal bar that, had the gates been closed, would have crossed for upper right to lower left. The vertical bars were ornate and thinner.
“Hello, Thomas,” the artist greeted Tommy as he stepped up beside him. This froze Tommy where he stood. “Do not fear. I mean you no harm, quite the contrary. You are wise to be wary the Reapers. They seek what you have, the key.”
“What?” Tommy asked. Tommy thought he might be losing it. He’d been in strange circumstances before. Then he glanced at the artist painting. It depicted the street they were on with the shops and the few people who strolled along it. But among those people were ghostly images of Grim Reapers, holding their scythes out, ready to strike their unwary victims. The artist had added clouds above the scene bathed in a golden sun with blood red fringes. The red dripped into pools of blood falling like rain on the people. And emerging from the shapes of the clouds was the visage of a single skeletal face surrounded by the sickles of the HAZMAT, like the tattoo he’d just seen. Tommy took in all of this in an instant. “Alfred! We’ve got trouble,” he said pitching his voice for his earbud to pick up.
“Yes, trouble,” said the artist. “But you have help, too.” He looked down to his paint box on the ground by his feet. There was a goo gun and cartridges ready to use. “Be ready when they come.” Tommy knelt down to the box to examine the contents. When he looked back up, the artist disappeared. Tommy did not see the spider avatar with projector scampering away, but Alfred caught the hologram flicker out.
“Got to get me one of those,” Alfred said for Tommy’s benefit. “I’m scanning. But tracking that signal will take time. I have a report that two of Sheriff Johnson’s deputies have gone missing in this area. I suggest you take the paint box and get moving.”
“Roger that, Alfred.” Tommy picked up the box and slung its strap over his shoulder, keeping his hand near the lid ready to use the gun if needed. He headed back toward the market and Agnes when he spotted two uniformed deputies. At first he felt relieved.
“Those are not deputies!” Alfred warned. “Take the alleyway to the left and then backtrack on the next street,” Alfred instructed. Tommy followed Alfred’s instructions.
*****
Up on the catwalks, Alfred informed Agnes where Tommy was and his situation. She looked in that direction, but did not see them from this vantage. Agnes had to move Weltha without giving away Alfred’s help, “Weltha, there are two deputies on that street.” She pointed in the general direction. “Oh, I lost them. Maybe if we moved higher?”
“OK” Weltha agreed. As they turned, three women blocked their way to the staircase. All three were wearing thick padded coats that easily hid their weapons. And each one had identical scythes tattooed to their necks under the same ear. “Maybe not that way,” Weltha said to Agnes, as she turned taking Agnes’ arm. They turned down the catwalk away from where Tommy was in danger.
*****
Tommy cut down the side alley and backtracked to the next street. As soon as he’d ducked into the alley the “deputies” made to follow him. He spotted a homemade soap stall on the opposite side of the street and slipped inside to hide. The stall also sold candles and had a nice display of them in front of an etched mirror. Tommy used it to watch the alleyway he’d just exited. The “deputies” ran out a moment later, slowing as they realized they’d lost him. Here, they split up, each taking different directions on the street. The one that followed closest to Tommy passed right by the soap shop. Tommy made out a tattoo above the uniform collar, the blade of a scythe. The uniform on this guy was form fitting, for a woman. It didn’t fit the Reaper.
After his pursuer had passed out of sight down the street, Tommy contacted Alfred, “Let Agnes know. Where are the deputies?”
“Still searching. I could subsume one of the stations avatars to. It would be faster,” Alfred suggested.
“Do it.”
“Done. There was a medical drone in the market. I’ll retrace their steps.”
Tommy had an idea. He grabbed two small soaps and a burning candle. When the shopkeeper looked at him askance, Tommy smiled and swiped his cash card. “Thanks.” Tommy sat on the floor of the shop. He used the candle to melt wax on the arch of his boots and attached a soap bar before the wax solidified. “Where’s the stairs?” he ask
ed the shopkeeper as he stood. The shopkeeper pointed up the street. Tommy saw them from where he was. “Thanks again,” and he dropped the candle into the paint box.
Tommy tried not to attract attention as he strolled up the street, but the “deputy” who had passed him in the shop was returning. Tommy was almost to the stairs when he was spotted. Now Tommy bolted up the stairs to the first level of catwalk. These were wide and supported from the ground rather than the ceiling. The “deputy” followed him. Others strolling on the catwalk assumed the “deputy” was doing his job, so they scattered. This gave the “deputy” a clear shot at Tommy.
*****
By now, Weltha and Agnes were hurrying along at a brisk pace. The heavy boots of their pursuers thumped on the metal of the walkway matching them. Weltha cut to their left on a side path that took them over a park area. There were fewer people here that could get hurt in the crossfire. As they rounded the corner, she handed Agnes a small goo gun and put several cartridges in Agnes’ jumpsuit pocket. Agnes had a time juggling it and her groceries.
When the Reapers rounded the same corner, they were close to running. “Run!” Weltha yelled. Agnes tossed her groceries into the air and sprinted, matching Weltha step for step. They found the next stair down and skipped two steps at a time, jumping over the railing at the first landing. Several darts ricocheted off the stair as they dropped. Their pursuers had become dangerous. They hit the dirt of the park below, rolled and came up running.
“Alfred, some help,” Agnes requested, not concerned by now if Weltha heard her. Alfred dropped his two spiders from an overhead support beam on the back of two of the Reapers and zapped them. They went down. Now it was two to one, but the one was determined and had military training. She jumped the rail and rolled on her landing coming up ready to fire.