by K Bledsoe
“No. Haven’t seen her.” The man barely even glanced at the picture.
“Please, sirrah, she has disappeared, and we just arrived in this city…”
“Look, kid. Buy something or scram.”
“Okay. Sorry to have bothered you. May the skies aid your sales.” He bowed and left as the man gave him a look mixed of annoyance and confusion. Hm. Maybe the traditional sales blessing wasn’t used here. Quinn fought down his own annoyance. He didn’t even get a chance to try out his story of his family arriving from off world a little over a year ago, recently moved to the city, how his sister never made it home from school two weeks ago, and so on.
He looked for another vendor and settled on an older woman selling local produce from an old wooden cart. As he approached, he noticed steel rivets on the cart and the telltale blinking of an anti-theft field around the cart which, despite its old appearance, looked to be in great shape. He hid a smile at the deception that was evidently working well since many offworlders were crowded around to get some “real food from the charming old-fashioned local.” When the crowd dispersed with their “native” treats, he approached the woman and tried his story again.
“Ah, the poor thing,” she cooed as she eyed the picture. Her accent was thick, but Quinn’s trained ear could tell she was exaggerating. “I am sorry, lad, but I haven’t seen her.”
“Do you have any suggestions who else I might ask?” Quinn said, not wanting to give up such an empathetic audience. Maybe she would let drop some local rumor about disappearing children.
“Ah, no, sorry. Can’t help you.” Her attention was caught by approaching customers and Quinn was promptly forgotten. He sighed and continued on.
After two hours of fruitless questioning, Quinn found a public bench to eat his breakfast and ponder his next move. He had spoken with all the outdoor vendors and had even ventured into a few indoor shops. Absolutely nobody had any helpful information, and several wouldn’t even acknowledge more than a grunt when it was clear he wasn’t buying anything. He sighed as he popped the last of the egg sandwich in his mouth. Time for plan B.
Plan B involved bribes.
Quinn hopped onto a public transport to try another district on the other side of the city. No sense trying the same group with money. Perhaps even a slightly seedier part if that was possible. As he contemplated whether to change his story, his wristcomp vibrated. He pulled out his personal pad and hit a series of numbers that would scramble his personal security code so nobody could locate him. Not wanting his mother to track him down before he could find some useful information, he had first done it as he left the restaurant and would need to rescramble every few hours. He grinned. So far so good.
The next area looked as if it was going to yield even less than the first. All the bribes seem to do was give the person a right to ask questions. One vendor of electronic parts was particularly voluble.
“When did she disappear?” he asked first.
“About two weeks ago. She never came home from school.” Quinn put on an appropriate sad face.
“Where are you from?”
“Transden. My parents work there.”
The man eyed him. “Transden is one of those upscale neighborhoods. Surprised she didn’t have a security chip.”
“She did, but since we arrived onplanet, my parents hadn’t had time to activate or register it. My dad said we were safe.” Did I say that sourly enough?
“Hm. I thought Transden kids usually have fancy computers and do schooling at home. Why was she at a school? Didn’t even think Transden had public schools.”
He was definitely losing this guy. “On the planet we come from, Carmal, they have no home education, just public, and my sister was more comfortable with them.” Quinn was quite proud of his quick thinking and using the planet of their previous mission. Can’t wait to tell that to Mom. Uh, oh. The vendor was squinting at him and opening his mouth for another question. Time to move on.
“Thank you, sirrah, but I need to keep looking.” He bowed and walked away, pretending not to hear the last question. The good thing about the street sellers is that they couldn’t leave their stall to follow him.
After another few more fruitless interrogations, Quinn sat again and told his stomach to be quiet. How could he be hungry already? And what had he accomplished? He had eaten both breakfasts, questioned way too many people with no results and was running out of bribe money. Well, he couldn’t give up now with nothing to show for it, so he would finish this street, perhaps asking more direct questions, even mentioning that he thought she may have been kidnapped. Should he hint at a slave business? Nobody had brought it up, not even obliquely. Most people were like that, Quinn knew. Not willing to admit there was a problem. As long as it didn’t affect them, it didn’t exist.
He sighed and stood up. Buying some food from the next merchant he questioned should hold him over for a little while longer. And maybe get some useful information for once. He entered the code on the pad again so that he wouldn’t be bothered with the reminder while investigating.
“Last time for today,” he muttered under his breath.
Chapter Seventeen
The sound of the door closing woke Lenore. She sat up suddenly, first instinct to look for Quinn. When she saw the empty bed, she came fully awake and leapt out of bed. Her eye caught the note propped up in clear view on the table and she breathed easier.
“Mom. Went to get some breakfast. Quinn.”
Lenore smiled. How thoughtful. This must be his way of making up for his sulking last night. And yet…
She glanced at his stuff piled around the bed. Yes, his tricks trunk and overnight bag were still there. She gritted her teeth. I will trust him.
That only lasted a minute or two. She had to know. She grabbed her pad and typed in his security locator code. It popped up at the store on the corner which she knew served breakfast pastries. Relieved, she got dressed and began to pour over the data that Allison had given them.
A while later Lenore pushed away from the table in frustration. There was simply no pattern to disappearances on this planet that would point to any specific clues for the location of the slave trade. No area had more, or less, abductions than any other and official reports were no help. About once a year, some authority reported finding a small slave ring and breaking it up, but there was absolutely no decrease in disappearances. Whoever ran this trade was extremely thorough at hiding his or her tracks. If there even was an actual organization. She shook her head. The fact that the statistics were so evenly distributed meant that there was some mind directing the child snatching.
The Xa’ti’al didn’t give her a lot of experience in this area. She could only remember one mission the group had taken that involved slaves and she, as a solo agent, hadn’t been a part of it. It was rare that local authorities brought in any outsiders to deal with slave trade, especially some as expensive as the Xa’ti’al. Unless there was someone very rich or important involved.
I wonder why they never hired the Xa’ti’al to find the princess. I should check into that.
Her ruminations were rudely interrupted by her rumbling stomach. Abruptly brought back to the present, she realized Quinn should have been back long before with food. She dialed his wristcomp but received no answer. She ran his security trace again and found nothing. A sudden burst of fear for Quinn caused a surge of adrenaline that would send most people into a panic. But, thanks to her training, that rush focused her into action instead.
Lenore dialed the ship as she searched through Quinn’s belongings. As she suspected, the ship was out of contact, either in transspace or offline while installing the new grav plates. She left a message for Diarmin then quickly made a mental list of all the contents of Quinn’s luggage. Aha, his backpack was missing as were several items from his trunk. If memory served, and it always did, a change of clothing and some make up that would let him blend in. As well as all his money.
She gave a wry smile. Always lea
ve some money so it is not obvious you have planned this. That would be the first lesson she would teach him.
If I get the chance to.
Lenore headed for her own gear to prepare. As she tucked her tiny stunner in its hiding place under her belt on the right side in back, her personal comp bleeped that a call was coming in. She answered it without looking at the sender, expecting it to be her husband.
“Yes?”
“Baroness Delilah, so glad you answered.”
Hm. Lavan.
“I don’t have much time to talk now,” he said. “But I will have some free time shortly and wondered if we can meet again.”
“Across the street from the previous restaurant in two hours. We will depart from there to a secure place.”
“Two hours, yes I can do that. Thank you, Bar— um Delilah.”
She closed communication and shoved her comp in her bag. If she couldn’t find her son in an hour, he was already in greater trouble than he had ever been.
Chapter Eighteen
“Well, that took longer than expected.”
“Sorry, Dad,” said Allison. “I have no idea how that ship tracked us. The new ID should be fine, and I have adjusted the drive specs so that they don’t match the old ones. I really don’t know what happened.” She looked at her father who was prepping to return to normal space after three extra jumps through transspace to elude their pursuers. “It would help if I knew who they were?” The upward inflection indicated to Diarmin that she knew he wouldn’t tell her but tried anyway.
He couldn’t look at his daughter so instead busied himself at the console. “No idea.” Which was technically true. Could have been one of several possibilities. Though how they found the ship despite the out-of-the-way route they usually took...he would tackle that later. Now he had to distract Allison. “Probably from that criminal organization that was taken down in the last job.”
“Not a chance,” she replied. “They were scattered, most of them arrested, and that ship did not match any record I had of their fleet. And remember, I had all of their data.”
“And nobody but you can alter an ID?” Diarmin instantly regretted his tone as Allison flushed and managed to look both angry and hurt. But he couldn’t let her find out the truth. “Look, Alli. Just let it go. And use the downtime while installing the new plates to test some new specs, okay?”
“Sure, Dad. No problem.”
She turned back to her console, but her flat tone told Diarmin she wasn’t content with the dismissal of the conversation. Someday she and Quinn can know the whole story. For now, he would hope that they could avoid any future encounters and simply be a family.
***
First stop was the shop where Quinn purchased breakfast. A few questions, a flash of credentials that were a perfect fake of local law enforcement, and quick look at the shop’s security cameras let her know that Quinn did indeed purchase breakfast. What she saw that the owner did not was his exit from the bathroom with a new persona. Now she knew which disguise he was in, and who and what to look for.
She retraced his steps with ease, knowing how Quinn’s mind worked and what information he had read. Lenore smiled to herself, thinking he had the correct idea on getting on a transport right away, but his lack of experience made it easy for her to figure out exactly where he had gone. Mentally she added that to the list to teach him as well.
By the time she had found several people who remembered Quinn, her inner tension was rising rapidly. She concluded that he was either better than expected or incredibly lucky. If you can call locating the edges of the slave trade luck. And the fact that her hour was nearly up, and his trail went suddenly cold meant that he had most likely stumbled onto exactly what he wanted. And what she was afraid of. Lenore tried to ignore the knot in her belly as she questioned the man in front of her. He was obviously lying, as the woman before him did. Both had seen Quinn, and both knew what had happened to him.
She struggled to hide her own reaction as she realized that Quinn had been taken by the very people he had set out to find. If she continued, she would tip them off that she knew about them. And now she had to do the hardest thing she had ever done.
She had to stop looking.
Sighing heavily, she took back the picture of Quinn she had had the breakfast shop print for her then handed the man a card.
“Thank you. If you hear anything more, please call me directly.” Her wrist comp bleeped in a set pattern and she walked away, pretending to answer to a superior. “No, nothing. This trail was a dead end. I am moving to the third district.” Pause. “Yes Commander, I will.”
Lenore set her jaw and prepared to meet the companion. It felt like she was abandoning Quinn, but it had to be done. And maybe there was a chance Lavan could help. Somehow.
***
Lavan looked around nervously. He was early and didn’t know whether to wait for the Baroness or come back. As people walked around him, he felt like he stood out suspiciously. Voices and noises made him twitch unnecessarily. The prince was in a governing session with his father and the rest of the ruling body. Those usually lasted all day and into the night, so he figured he was safe for a while.
Where was she? He checked his wrist comp yet again. Still early. Maybe he would go get something to settle his stomach.
As he turned to head to the nearest drink shop, a hand brushed his sleeve. Reflexively he jerked his arm away, and his eye fell on a hunched-over person dressed in patched pants and threadbare shirt. A tattered hat with ear flaps tucked in tight hid most of the face. The hand remained outstretched in supplication. Lavan relaxed. Just an old beggar.
“Help out a fellow down on his luck?”
Lavan reached into his purse set under his jacket and grabbed two coins. “There you go. Hope things get better for you.”
“So generous, thank you, kind sir. This will be more than enough for a hot meal. I know the perfect place two streets over that way. Perhaps you would like to join me?”
Before Lavan could stammer a polite refusal, the beggar tugged at the tattered hat, pulling the right ear flap a little. With a shock he recognized his contact, Delilah. Trying to keep the surprise off his face, Lavan said. “I will personally buy you that meal. You keep the coins for future needs.”
“Why you are most generous. This way.” She left at a shambling walk, quick but with a pronounced limp. Lavan followed, face burning as he thought of how well this woman could fool him. He realized perhaps he could learn a thing or two and try a disguise next time he went out.
Two streets over was a shabby sandwich shop with few tables. Delilah held the door open and Lavan entered with doubt on his face. This place didn’t seem very private.
“Perhaps you could get us a table?” she said as she followed him through the door then stopped next to it as it closed. He nodded and threaded his way through the tables to find one by itself. He looked over his shoulder, but the woman hadn’t followed. Instead she had moved so that she would be hidden from anyone else coming in. The front door opened again, and a man entered and looked around, peering into the gloom. The baroness’ left hand shot out and grabbed his arm. Lavan thought the man would pull away, but he became rigid and stared straight ahead.
With another shock, Lavan recognized him as Jonah, the Chief Reviewer. Before he could vouch for him, Delilah had spoken in Jonah’s ear, and Lavan could see her hand squeeze harder. Jonah’s eyes widened perceptibly, and he gave a minute nod that looked like he had to strain for even that little movement.
She called to Lavan. “Looks like we will need a bigger table, sirrah.” She released Jonah’s arm, stepped behind him and gave him a small push. He scowled and walked toward Lavan, rubbing his arm.
“This one should do.” Lavan pointed at a square table with four chairs in a corner with no other patrons seated nearby. They all sat, and though it wasn’t obvious, Delilah was a guard on Jonah.
“Now,” she said. “Tell us why you are following us.”
; Lavan’s eyebrows shot up yet again, but surprise turned to fear when Jonah answered.
“I came to warn the companion.”
Chapter Nineteen
Diarmin watched as the truck with the grav plates slowly made its way through the spaceport to their ship sitting on the pad.
“Finally, Alli,” he said, grinning at her. “We won’t have to float anymore. Shouldn’t be too long to install.”
“I’m glad they held it for us despite our late arrival,” she answered without a return grin.
So, she’s still not happy about being in the dark. Well, it couldn’t be helped. She needed some more work to take her mind off the issue.
“Watch and make sure they deliver it to the correct spot for easy installation. I am going to check messages since we haven’t had a chance yet.”
“Because we had to rush to make the purchase, you mean.”
Diarmin chose not to respond to the comment and climbed up the cargo ramp into the ship. The disadvantage to a cargo ship converted into a personal ship was that the primary hatch was on the middle level. The belly-down design meant that in a proper dock, the side hatch would debark on a middle level and the lower-level cargo hold door would open for easy loading. On an outdoor pad like this one, it was easier to climb up a shallow ramp into the hold than a ladder from ground to hatch.
On the bridge, Diarmin sat in the command chair and saw that there were five messages, all from Lenore. As he listened to them, he grew more and more tense, and the last one had him up out of the seat, down the ladders and running outside.
He ran toward the crane that was just beginning to unload the first grav plate.
“Not here. Please put them in the cargo hold. It’s already open.”
The operator began to grumble until Diarmin shoved a bunch of credit notes into his hand. The notes promptly disappeared into a pocket and the operator answered. “Whatever you say.”