Boom Town

by Craig Martelle

  “You’re the boss, Miss Plastes.”

  “Sometimes I wonder. I need you here to restore order. Stay here. Do your job.”

  Thaddeus nodded assent to one or all of her orders and backed out of the room.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Star Jumper

  Flying into or out of Darklanding became more problematic every day. With an unlimited budget and the right resources—his own air force basically—he would crackdown on air traffic violations. Moving from point A to point B these days was worse than a combat operation. Once he sailed out above Transport Canyon, he relaxed, steering with one hand and enjoying the view of the sunset.

  “I love my home planet at dusk,” Mast said.

  “It’s a beautiful time of day,” Thaddeus said.

  “Most of my people do not enjoy it. Most of my people crave the darkness of underground places.”

  “What makes you different?”

  “You are my friend. That makes me muchly different. But I understand your question. The answer is harder, however, to make sense of,” Mast said.

  Thaddeus took his time landing the Calico, then secured it as though it might save his life in the near future. He knew a good pilot did things by the numbers, so he followed the checklist and handed it to Mast to double-check.

  “Are you now making me a pilot, muchly expertly?”

  “No, Mast. Just see if I missed anything,” Thad said as he stepped away.

  “Where do I write that it is a greatly ugly ship muchly in need of being washed?”

  Thad stared across the sand at the red and white ship parked near the cave entrance. He expected Cornelius Vandersun to stride down the ramp of the Red Can at any second. “I just wish I understood why he painted that crazy white stripe down the side.”

  “Very curvy,” Mast said. “Do humans not like curvy lines?”

  Thad shrugged. “Let’s go exploring.”

  “I will not go to the bottom. There is too much A19. This ship at the bottom is like the one I found under Darklanding, I yesly think.”

  “You can tell there is A19 from here?”

  Mast nodded, eyes wide, shoulders tense. “Very muchly.”

  “What are Cornelius and Ruby doing here?” Thad asked.

  “Maybe they are on the ship. Not wanting to come out?”

  “They’re not on the ship. Neither of them mess around. Two headstrong, multi-trillionaires racing us to the bottom. What could go wrong?”

  Thaddeus took the lead, not because he was qualified but because he was willing. Mast and Maximus followed close behind. They took a vertical shaft that was more direct than the looping race course he had followed to defeat LeClerc. The passage alternated between narrow confines and expansive, cathedral-like caverns. Minerals of all types reflected from the light on his helmet. He sent small creatures scurrying away but never saw them.

  “Anything dangerous in here?”

  Mast looked around nervously. “If these are the animals my people know, then we are very safe. If they are the whispering spider creatures of the ship…I make no promises.”

  “Great.” Thaddeus looked at the pig-dog. The animal didn’t seem concerned. “What do you think, animal?”

  Maximus ignored him, plodding forward and down with steady determination.

  “You’re not afraid we’ll be eaten by alien spider things?”

  Maximus rolled his eyes.

  Voices chittered in Thad’s imagination. There were suggestions he could almost understand, accusations he resented, and laughter that mocked him.

  Down and down and down into darkness they descended. A sea of spider-things waited at each terraced level. The leg-covered bodies surged forward, but when they sensed or saw Maximus, they retreated in a concave line like a wave retreating from a beach.

  “I must stop,” Mast said.

  Thaddeus took stock of these surroundings. “I’ll leave Maximus here and continue downward to the ship.”

  “Aren’t you afraid of spiders?” Mast asked.

  “I’m afraid of a lot of things, but rarely have a choice,” Thad said. He made his way down carefully and tried not to think about what lurked in the shadows. He was foot sore and out of water by the time he got stuck.

  He could see that the passage continued down, but there was no safe route in this branch of the vertical maze. Two other people seemed to be having the same difficulty.

  “Speak of the devil,” Cornelius said.

  “Hello, Sheriff,” Ruby Miranda said.

  Behind Cornelius and his granddaughter was a ring of excavation lighting. He wondered how long they’d been here and whether or not they’d used machines or crew members to bring all of the supplies this far down. The small landing overlooking the ship felt secret and private.

  “Look, it’s my two favorite people who left Darklanding and weren’t supposed to come back.” He leaned over the edge. An ovoid covered with dust filled the bottom of the shaft wall to wall.

  “Careful, Sheriff. It’s farther down than it looks. The size of the ship is deceptive,” Cornelius said. “Speechless? I thought you were a seasoned veteran of the Ground Forces.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Thaddeus said.

  “You must’ve really appreciated or believed your deputy’s stories,” Cornelius said.

  “He told me all about the ship. I looked up videos of starships of equal displacement to get the idea in my head, but this is somehow strange. I’ve never seen anything artificial this far below the surface of any planet,” Thaddeus said.

  “The star jumpers are unique,” Cornelius said. “I will need you to sign this nondisclosure and non-come-peek contract before you ascend to the surface.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Not really,” Cornelius said.

  Thaddeus waved away the man’s request. “How long do you think you can keep the stars to yourself? One man can’t control humanity’s access to faster than light travel.”

  “Control is too strong of a term. I just have the best technology. It’s not my fault no one realizes the tech is completely independent from what the corporations and military developed in their laboratories for their experimental fleets.” Cornelius moved closer to Thaddeus, leaning one arm on a temporary railing, then looked down at the alien ship.

  “Ungwilook is already being torn apart by the influx of exotics and other rare minerals. Something like this will be the end for Mast’s people. This kind of technology will start a war to possess it.”

  “Why do you think I’ve kept it secret? There is more at stake than just my financial empire.” He paused. “I can bring your deputy down here safely. He should be part of the decision we must make.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Shaunte’s Folly

  Stephen Henderson III chose the quietest time of the day to schedule his meeting with a man that legal documents referred to as Pierre, identity number 895A783BM11LUNA. Before taking this tedious action, he read what was available concerning the Mother Lode. A more casual businessperson wouldn’t have known that the Mother Lode, LLC would consider no decisions binding without at least one of its subsidiaries present. Normally, this seemed to mean the madam of the brothel, a woman identified only as Dixie and her identity number.

  Stephen dressed professionally, choosing an outfit that resembled a jumpsuit but wasn’t. He despised the things. On this planet, anyone wearing real clothing stuck out like a sore thumb. He wanted to be respectful and professional during this meeting. After that, Dedra and Dregg were free to do things their way. He would take a long trip into the country to sketch any animals he could find.

  Pierre did not make him wait long. He’d barely finished glancing through outdated holo tablets in the waiting room when Miss Dixie appeared. She was stunning. Her outfit today was less brothel madam and more business professional. She wore a short jacket over her blouse and her skirt went almost to her knees. She was curvy but no more than he liked. If her blonde hair were real, he woul
d consider buying it from her.

  He stood immediately to shake her hand. “Stephen Henderson III, pleased to meet you.”

  She shook his hand without saying a word, then led him into the office.

  Pierre sat behind his desk, probably wearing the same outfit he wore every night behind the bar. It was an attempt at chic but came across as outdated and tasteless. His thin mustache stopped sweat from running over his lips.

  “We’re going to get right to the point, Steve,” Pierre said, his eyes skimming over the tablet’s documents. “This proposal confuses me.”

  So this is how it’s going to be? “Really? How is it confusing?” Stephen asked.

  Pierre leaned back in his chair. He lifted an already lit cigar from an ashtray and held it between two fingers. “Why would I sell the Mother Lode?”

  Stephen smiled. “It’s a nice little frontier business. You’ve done well. My expertise, as it happens, is running franchise businesses in a more dynamic environment. Darklanding is booming. It’s going to be hard to keep up. I have the tools, personnel, and the experience of facing down competitors. My corporation has the institutional patience to deal with the draconian zoning laws that will come by the end of the year.”

  Pierce stared at him, cigar held out to one side so that smoke wouldn’t drift into his face.

  “There aren’t any girls in Darklanding who will work for you,” Dixie said. “I don’t care what type of saloon franchise you’ve run, taking care of people is another skillset.”

  Stephen ignored her. “You know I’m right, Pierre. I think you’re smart enough to understand what I’m telling you.”

  “What I understand is that you’ve never been to Darklanding. You know nothing about Ungwilook or what it takes to handle the Gloks,” Pierre said.

  Stephen channeled his inner calm. He really didn’t care about these people. Nothing they could do would hurt him. “Pierre, you should do your research before we proceed. I am a gentleman but not a gentle man. Should you decide to slap away the hand I’m extending to you, should you make that exceedingly poor choice, then remember what I said about having the right personnel for every job.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  Stephen looked at the paintings on the back of Pierre’s wall. “Those are wonderful landscapes. You must have an artist in residence. My advice to you is take care of that gentle soul. They are much harder to find than the type of people I employ.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Pierre repeated.

  Stephen stood, nodded to Miss Dixie, then Pierre. “No one can say I didn’t try. Good day.”

  He left the Mother Lode and went to a nearby village his travel scout had found for him. There was supposed to be a nice waterfall and good weather for reading poetry.

  * * *

  The Cheap and Easy Saloon appeared overnight. Industrial freight haulers rolled away from the spaceport full of materials so new, there were bits of injection molding clinging to the parts. Some of the personnel seemed to have the same problem, with bits of their lives following them like bad luck. A crew of bartenders, street hustlers, dancing girls, and bouncers came on the same transport ship. One day after the walls went up near newly bulldozed lots, the locals of Darklanding were calling it the Cheap Easy.

  Dedra was the madam, younger than Dixie but hard as the boot of a TerroCom Soldier. Her neck, shoulders, and upper-back were covered with a black and red checkerboard tattoo. Scrolling ink-work reached around her eyes like a mask. Her brother was a massive bodybuilder named Dregg, and he was mean as sin.

  The owner of the Cheap Easy didn’t show himself, but there were rumors of his passing through private areas in the night.

  Andronik squatted on his haunches across the street. “I don’t like this, Bobby. Not muchly at all.”

  “Why do you talk like that? You speak better Galactic Standard than Mast Jotham. Are you trying to be him?” Bobby thought about this for a minute, then nodded. “That would make me Sheriff Thaddeus Fry.”

  “It doesn’t make you anything,” Andronik said.

  “We shouldn’t be this close, Andro,” Bobby said.

  “We have to know everything we can about this place,” Andronik said. “Miss Dixie said she’d give me Tigi if I found any secrets that could affect her business.”

  “What’s she gonna give me?” Bobby asked.

  “You don’t get nothing. You’re too dumb.”

  “Why would I help you?”

  “So I can get something.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Okay, I’ll take you to a secret Unglok place. No human has ever seen it.”

  Bobby jumped up and down in excitement.

  Andronik pulled him down and told him to be quiet. “I’ve seen those men at the Mother Lode.”

  “What’re they doing here? This is just a beer hall with dancing girls. Not a brothel. Not supposed to be, anyway. Is what I heard,” Bobby said.

  And suddenly Andronik knew what was happening. “We need to go tell Miss Dixie about this.”

  * * *

  Dixie stormed up the stairs. She reached Shaunte’s door and banged on it. “Miss Plastes! Miss Plastes! I need to talk to you right now.”

  To her surprise, the door opened. She stepped in, suddenly self-conscious. Shaunte was so young and put-together. On her best day, Dixie felt...well, much more attractive and classy…but a little insecure.

  The young woman sat at her desk with her hair clipped back. She had her suit jacket off and digital tablets spread across her desk. The blinds were drawn across the windows and it seemed the woman had covered the floor with sound-canceling rugs.

  Dixie, unaware how the noise had been bothering her, breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed.

  “What can I do for you, Miss Dixie?”

  Chin held high and back straight, Dixie took her time when she answered. “I’ve been informed there is another brothel operating in Darklanding.”

  Shaunte raised one eyebrow.

  Dixie thrust both fists down to her side and stomped one foot. “You have to shut it down!”

  “Why would I do that, Miss Dixie?” She pretended to pause, then interrupted Dixie’s answer. “I’ve already discussed this with Pierre. The contracts are very clear about what is and what is not allowed in Darklanding.”

  “Pierre promised me there was an arrangement.”

  Shaunte nodded, still very calm. “If I could prove the place was a brothel, I could take action, providing I could find a posse willing to enforce the laws and contracts of Darklanding.”

  “You have Sheriff Fry and his deputy.”

  “They’re very busy and hard to get a hold of. It’s an issue I am dealing with.”

  “There are strangers running a brothel at the Cheap and Easy!” Dixie stomped her foot again. This time, the impact made the back of her calf tingle.

  “What was your source again?” Shaunte asked.

  Dixie felt like she’d been let into a trap. She mumbled the answer.

  “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

  “A human boy and an Unglok child,” Dixie said, looking down at the floor.

  “So you don’t really know, do you?”

  “I can get a dozen people to go in as spies. I’d send Leslie and Chelsie over there as double agents if I didn’t think they’d burn the place down,” Dixie said.

  “Why don’t we just have a look for ourselves?” Shaunte asked.

  “Well, I guess we could. Like you and me together? Right now?”

  Shaunte pulled her stylish, waist-length jacket from the coat rack and put it on. “Let’s see what there is to see.”

  Dixie wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but she strode next to Shaunte all the way to the new establishment, the vile place that people were calling by its shortened name, the Cheap Easy.

  * * *

  Shaunte wondered if the odor emanating from the street was what a urinal smelled like. She stepped over discarded bottl
es and other debris. Dixie imitated her, occasionally shaking her fist at drunken hecklers who wanted to see various parts of her body.

  Music boomed from the beer hall. A single story, the building was packed right up to the doors. Bouncers pushed a man out of a window as she watched. She was about to assure Dixie there was no room for a brothel when a pair of women burst from the doors with their shirts open to the waist, makeup streaking their faces and hair damp with sweat. Several amorous young men followed with liquor bottles, shouting their ten-credit affections.

  Shaunte called Sheriff Fry, tapping her toe as she waited.

  “Amateurs,” Dixie snorted. “Who lets their girls get that drunk? That’s how they lose control. Sooner or later, they’re going to go off script, if they have one, and get hurt. They are supposed to fake it.”

  “Which part?” Shaunte asked.

  “All of it. Especially the drunk part.”

  Shaunte’s phone rang and rang in her slim new ear piece without success. The young men patronizing the van girls didn’t take long, nor did their friends or their friend’s friends.

  Wherever the sheriff was, he wasn’t picking up. She studied the crowd of people facing her and wondered if they understood her dilemma. She had a million jobs to do and a sheriff that was missing in action—deliberately, she assumed.

  “Are you going to do something?” Dixie said. “Maybe you should call your daddy and have him send his TerroCom soldiers.”

  “What are you talking about?” Shaunte asked, stalling for time. She knew the entire TerroCom operation was one of her father’s deals. That didn’t mean she could call them down to enforce martial law in Darklanding.

  Before she thought better, she stood in the way of a fresh group of girls and held up one hand. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Out to my van,” one of the women said. “We all live in it, got a permit and everything. I don’t know if there’s room for you and your friend. You’ll have to wait.”