by T. R. Harris
Maybe she’d found another naïve sucker to do here bidding and had been granted an extension at the fancy apartment. I didn’t ask and Jennifer didn’t volunteer any information. However, I knew the whole apartment thing was probably just part of the operation, Operation King. Once that went bust, I didn’t really care what happened to her.
Life on Sylox would go on with or without Ms. Miranda Moore. At least mine would.
A few days after the closing, I did take delivery of the Noreen II, even after learning of the surtax I hadn’t been aware of. That added another forty-eight thousand dollars to the price tag, and required me to borrow the money from Quint, my business partner. He’d asked for an ownership interest in exchange for the loan, but I didn’t give it to him. Fortunately, Quint knew me well enough not to take it personally. He knew I liked to be in control – of everything – and even though I was now flat broke, he’d get his money back, and with interest.
My business was continuing to flourish, and I’d be solvent again after the next few closings, arranged through my agents. Hell, I could even go slumming and take out a lower-ranking GS worker just to put some quick cash in my pocket. After all, I’d just found out that the fuel modules for the N-Two were about twice as high off-planet as they were on Sylox, so any long-distance road trip was going to cost more than I’d anticipated.
So cash-flow was the issue now, yet it would only be a temporary setback.
And now I was the proud owner of an interstellar starship. I could go anywhere I wanted in the entire galaxy. Honestly, I didn’t know where I’d go even if I had the time; however, just knowing that I could play Hans Solo anytime I wanted was a real head rush.
If I could afford the gas.
**********
It was a week after the Wilson closing when I spotted Jennifer approaching the dugout at the South Hampton softball field. We’d just finished the game – a win by the way – against the Hampton Hammers, so I was feeling pretty good about myself. I figured she was there to invite me to her housewarming party, even though it hadn’t been necessary for her to come all the way out here for the invite. I wasn’t even sure if I’d go, since I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Miranda again.
Jennifer stopped at the edge of the foul ball screen after I acknowledged her presence, yet even from the dugout I could see the worry on her face.
I grabbed my equipment bag and walked over to her.
“Hey Jennifer, is everything all right?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “You haven’t heard from Miranda, have you?”
The question took me by surprise. “’Fraid not; in fact not since the time we went out. What’s up?”
“It’s just that we haven’t seen or heard from her since the day before the closing.” She looked a little embarrassed. “She said she wouldn’t come … because of you.”
That was no surprise. In fact I would have been shocked if she’d been there. “So she hasn’t moved in yet? I understand all your furniture arrived a few days ago.”
“No, she hasn’t. In fact she hasn’t been to the new house since that first day there with you.”
“Did you call her office?”
“I sure did, but they said they couldn’t confirm or deny if she was at work. They wouldn’t even acknowledge if she actually worked there or not.”
“She said she’d been assigned to Intel; you know they’re like that over there. Do you want me to make a few calls? I know the Head-of-Station personally; I sold him his house.”
“Would you? I know you and Miranda had some sort of falling out, but now I’m worried.”
“What about Mark, has he tried to track her down?”
“Believe it or not, he got the same run around. It seems no one trusts anyone over there. It’s just like back home.”
“Could she have met someone? Don’t take this wrong, but a girl like her would have a really full dance card over at the Embassy.”
I could tell by her hesitation that I’d touched a nerve. “She did mention someone, but I didn’t want to say anything to you.”
“There you have it! She’s probably just out seeing the sights with her new beau. Frankly, there are a lot of powerful – and very rich – guys who work over there. Some of them even own their own starships.” I didn’t tell Jennifer about my N-Two; that would have been too pretentious. “She’s just out on a tour of the local systems.”
“Even so, can you call your friend and see if she’s all right?”
“Of course, I’ll do it as soon as I get home and take a shower. By the way, we won the game.”
Jennifer Wilson had already turned away, but then she glanced back over her shoulder at me. “That’s nice.” Her response was purely reactionary. She was really worried about Miranda.
I – on the other hand – wasn’t. I knew that in her line of work it was common to disappear on assignment for days and even weeks at a time. I’d done it myself. But of course, I didn’t have an unsuspecting family at home worried about me. It was, however, pretty rude of her to not come up with some kind of cover story as to why she’d be gone.
And then I wondered why Mark had been shut out, too. After all, he was an Undersecretary, and therefore pretty far up the food chain at the Embassy. I had assumed at first that Miranda was some rookie spook, on her first assignment and anxious to make her mark. Maybe she was more?
Honestly, I didn’t really care. Not my circus, not my monkeys. When all was said and done, Miranda Moore had been nothing more than a temporary blip on my screen. I’d make a few cursory inquires, and then drop it.
Unfortunately, Miranda had to learn that we all have to sleep in the bed we make. She was on her own now, and I wasn’t about to let this little episode ruin the joy I was feeling at the time, what with the team winning our last six games – even with Bill and N’xo catching.
In fact, I was a genius, Coach-of-the-Year, MVP of the league. Yep, I was something to behold!
And did I also mention that I now own a starship?
Chapter 12
It was after hours on what was a Saturday on Sylox, so I reached the CIA Head-of-Station at his home number. I could tell you his name, but then I’d have to kill you.
Not really: It’s Cyrus Blake, and his house is located three blocks over from mine. Of course, I would never just walk up to the front door of the head Human spook on Sylox unannounced. I’d probably get my head blown off if I did.
Even then, as he answered the phone, I knew we were on an unsecure line, and so there probably wouldn’t be a lot he could tell me, especially on an audio-only call.
“Hey, Cyrus, it’s Jason King.”
“Jason, you old pirate! Didn’t you make enough off me already? Sorry, but you took all I have; I don’t have any more to give.”
“Then you’re dead to me. I’m only friends with people who can make me money.”
“That would be funny … if it weren’t true. So what’s up, buddy? How’s the team doing?”
“The Highland Hitters are kickin’ ass and takin’ names. We just won our sixth in a row.”
“That puts us in first, doesn’t it?”
“That’s right, and with only two games left in the season. However, Sunset Ridge is breathing down our necks. It’s going to be tough to win outright without a playoff. Do you think you can play next season?”
“It’s a possibility, at least to be on the roster. You know how crazy my schedule can get.”
“Speaking of that, I wonder if you can help me? Do you know Mark Wilson?”
“I’ve met him a couple of times; new Undersecretary of Agricultural Development, or something obscure like that.”
“Uh-huh. I sold him his new home over in Sterling Bridge South—”
“Ooh, highbrow neighborhood, must have made you a bundle. By the way, how do you like your new Noreen II?”
It figured that the CIA station chief would know when a Human bought a starship. “It’s a flying hard-on, Cyrus, believe you me. We�
�re going to have to take her out, when you can find the time.”
“You’re on; so what about Wilson?”
“It’s actually about his cousin, Miranda Moore. She hasn’t come home for a week and her family’s getting worried. I understand she’s gone to work for you guys.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I don’t recall a Miranda Moore in the department. Are you sure she’s with us?”
I smiled. Once a spy, always a spy. “I get it, Cyrus, just if you see her, can you tell her to call home?”
“Jason, I don’t know a Miranda Moore. I’m pretty sure I’d remember a name like that if it came across my desk.”
“Really? What about one of the other agencies?”
“I know them all, and I’ve still never heard of her.”
“I know you would tell me if you had, Cyrus, but then you’d have to kill me.” I never tire of that line from Top Gun.
“I don’t see any harm in disclosing when someone doesn’t work for us. It’s only when they do that we have to be careful.”
“No shit?”
“No shit, Jason. I think you’ve been fed a line of bull, my friend – and her family, too. But now you say she’s missing?”
“That’s right.”
“Maybe she never existed in the first place.” I could hear the humor in Cyrus’s voice. “Maybe she’s just a figment of your imagination.”
“More like a wet dream, if you ever met her.”
“You dog, you. No wonder you’re trying to find her.”
“I’m not doing this for myself; the woman’s basically a pyscho. I’m doing this for my clients. They’re worried.”
“Of course; I’m sorry. And any time a Human goes missing around here it’s serious. After all, we don’t want them to end up as an appetizer at some alien’s banquet, if you know what I mean? Send what you have on her over to my office on Monday and I’ll have someone look into it.”
“I’d appreciate that, Cyrus. Nothing like having a big-shot like you following up on a missing person’s report.” I didn’t want to mention his job over the phone, even though I was pretty sure everyone who cared on Sylox already knew.
“Hell, I’m not going to do it myself! I have underlings for that kind of thing.”
We shared a hardy laugh and a little more small talk before getting off the line.
**********
Now, as I stared out at the darkening sky through the large array of rake windows in my great room – as dark as night got this close to the center of the galaxy – I was in quandary as to what to tell Jennifer. I had no doubt Cyrus had told me the truth: Miranda Moore didn’t work for him, or any of the other covert agencies operating on Sylox, at least not the Human agencies. Yet there was no denying that the palatial apartment she’d used to try to recruit me was not a figment of my imagination. Somehow she had managed to arrange its use, and that took connections way up the ladder at the Embassy.
Also, the fact that she had said she worked for the Americans only added to the mystery. But that did leave a few other options.
The Human diplomatic mission to the Galactic Union was larger than any other, simply from the fact that the Earth still consisted of hundreds of separate countries, with each wanting their own representation, their own ambassador, and their own mission on Sylox. Fortunately, the Council wouldn’t allow that, otherwise the Embassy Compound would take up half the city. Instead they allowed coalitions.
The larger countries, like the US, China, Russia and India maintained their own delegations; however others, such as the European Union, the Pacific Coalition and Africa combined their missions.
It was from all these disparate interests and affiliations, that a small council of five was elected, who then selected the Ambassador-at-Large. The A-at-L had authority over the entire mission and all diplomatic affairs, after consultation with the other delegates, of course. The system seemed to work; it had too. The Union wasn’t about to let a hundred or more Human ambassadors attend each diplomatic meeting. After all, who did we think we are?
By the way, it was also a curious fact that the A-at-L always seemed to come from one of the big four countries. I guess power begat power; nothing unusual about that.
The bottom line was that the primitive, upstart Humans maintained the largest diplomatic presence on the entire planet, something that upset quite a few other, more senior Union members.
Was it possible Miranda worked for one of these other factions? I doubted it. Cyrus was the unofficial head of all Human intelligence on the planet. If he said she didn’t work for him, or anyone else in the community, it was a pretty good bet she didn’t.
So that left alien … or corporate.
That could be it.
Corporate Earth had only one interest, and that was to their individual firms, and since First Contact, big business had grown to astronomical proportions. The aliens had been extremely forthcoming with their technology and innovations, and the business community had scooped up everything they could get their hands on. Now factories spit out advanced medicines and energy modules, as well as a myriad of other useful gadgets covering every category imaginable.
Overnight, the world’s dependency on fossil fuels disappeared because of the aliens, replaced with compact fusion devices, as well as the gravity-nullifiers that all cars and trucks now ran on – the quintessential anti-gravity hovercraft of the pulp science fiction novels.
Even though some economies collapsed, they were quickly replaced with other, more profitable endeavors. The rich got richer; however, in the process, everyone else prospered, too. Business soared, and with it the demand for labor. The ranks of the unemployment dropped to near zero, now only inhabited by those who simply didn’t want to work. For those who did, their salaries were sky-high, and provided a standard of living across the entire planet beyond anything ever imagined.
But all this prosperity also brought about a rabid competiveness among the major corporations, and their business interests were no longer confined to just the planet Earth. Everyday new markets were being opened on any number of alien worlds, and that meant big money – really big money.
And all roads led to Sylox, where the licenses were issued and the permits granted.
So it was quite feasible that the vivacious Miranda Moore worked for one of these corporate giants. And if she did, then what the hell did they want with me?
Chapter 13
I wrote up a brief containing the little I knew about Miranda Moore and took it over to Cyrus’s office at the U.S. Consulate on Monday morning. Afterwards, I drove over to the apartment building on Executive Row, just on the off chance that she might still there.
The building had security, yet at this time of day, the front door was open. I went in and took the elevator to the sixth floor.
The hallway was quiet and deserted as I left the elevator. I walked up to the first door on the left and knocked.
A few moments later the door swung open.
“What the hell do you want?”
I recognized the person instantly. It was Franklin Smart, star of TV and the silver screen. He looked annoyed.
“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Smart, but I was wondering if Miranda’s here?”
The chiseled, tanned face of the movie star frowned. “Miranda, ain’t no Miranda here, buddy. And I didn’t know just anyone could come up here?”
“I’m with the Mission. I was here about three weeks ago with a woman named Miranda Moore. Do you know anything about that?”
“Dude, I’ve been here for the last couple of months, ever since we’ve been filming down along the river. No one’s been here that I didn’t personally invite, and no one named Miranda. There was a Tiffany … and a Diane, but no Miranda. And there was also a Monica, and I think two Heathers, but still no Miranda. You say you were here, in this apartment?”
“Yeah, I was.” I drew out the sentence as I let my exasperation become vocal. “On the fourteenth of last month to be preci
se.”
Smart frowned again and cast his eyes upwards and to the left. “The fourteenth, I think we were in the mountains around that time, shooting a big fight scene.” And then he frowned. “So you and your girlfriend crashed my crib when I was gone?”
“Sorry, man, I didn’t have anything to do with it. I just went along for the ride, if you know what I mean.”
This evoked a wicked smile from the sex-crazed actor. “So I guess it’s a good thing that I get the sheets changed every day. Now if there’s nothin’ else, why don’t you get the hell outta here?”
I smiled at the movie star, even though I preferred to plant my right palm straight into the larynx of this obnoxious rube. But I controlled myself, deciding to save whatever anger I had building for the next time I saw the conniving Miranda Moore.
As I entered the elevator, I decided it was about time I came clean with Jennifer Wilson. I didn’t give a damn if it blew Miranda’s cover or not. After all, she probably wasn’t even Jennifer’s real cousin. And if she did work for one of the conglomerates, then outing her wasn’t really that serious of a thing.
I was actually excited about telling Jennifer all I knew, along with my suspicions. Unfortunately, I never got the chance.
All I remember when the elevator door slid open was the brilliant flash of light and the excruciating pain in my chest. After that I welcomed the darkness that followed….
**********
When I came to I was strapped to a cot in a dimly-lit room with dirty concrete walls. The scene was almost too cliché as to be laughable – if it didn’t involve me tied to a cot in a dimly-lit room with dirty concrete walls.
The pain in my chest was from a Level-2 flash bolt. It hadn’t meant to kill – at least not a Human – only to stun. But whatever its stated purpose, it still hurt like hell.