by Rachel Aukes
His tiny room was made of bright white walls saturated in a near-blinding light. Inside, sat a bench, the only furnishing. Spotlessly clean and exactly like every other CUF holding cell he’d ever been in. With nowhere to go, he took a seat, covered his eyes, and tried to catch some sleep.
No such luck.
The sound of powered movement alerted Reyne. Scowling, he opened his eyes and squinted against the dark shape emerging through the brightness. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed that a table and a cushioned bench had come out from the wall. He didn’t need to look around to know that there was also an automatic gun leveled on him from the ceiling.
“Good day, Captain Reyne,” a female voice said as the newcomer’s features sharpened in the light. “I am Commandant Heid. Welcome to the Arcadia. I hope my first officer was not overzealous in processing you and your crew.”
Reyne pushed to his feet to meet the senior officer at eye level. “In all my years as a runner, this is the first time a commandant has come down to talk to me. Adding that to the fact you burned juice on stealth, I’m guessing this is no ordinary dock check.”
“Perhaps. Or, perhaps I’m simply bored.” She smiled. “But I’m not the first commandant you’ve spoken to, am I?”
He didn’t answer.
Heid took a seat across the table from him. “Today is a standard dock check, more or less.”
“If it’s a standard check, then we should be wrapped up in no time. As you should be able to read in my records, I’m a legit runner, and I hold my crew to the same high standards.”
She chuckled. “’High standards’ is not a term I’d apply to your crew.”
Reyne realized just how young the officer was—in her mid-thirties or so—which meant she’d earned her rank from money—or was very, very good at her job. As he watched her, he supposed she could’ve also gotten promotions the old-fashioned way—from sleeping with the right officers. She had the curves of a fit woman, a model’s face, and eyes twinkling with keen intelligence. He doubted anyone ever told her no.
He watched her, but she was busy scrolling through whatever information she was perusing on her wrist comm. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight bun, and he suspected she never let it down, figuratively speaking, that was.
“When it comes to your crew, I think ‘miscreants’ may be a better term, don’t you think?” she continued, without looking up.
He didn’t answer.
“One of your crewmembers has seventy-eight open misdemeanors filed against him.”
“Ah, but the CUF doesn’t deal with misdemeanors,” he countered, trying not to grin. Sixx must’ve scored another one in between their most recent runs.
“Another one has been in and out of rehab three times for sweet soy addiction.”
“Boden’s clean now. That’s ancient history.”
“Last rehab was only eleven months ago.” She glowered. “Sweet soy is a terrible plague on Alluvia. I saw it everywhere growing up. I’m from First City, on the other side of town from where Tren would’ve grown up in the tenured district. Life isn’t easy for tenured. Nearly all of them are addicts by the age of ten. He never stood a chance, really. I can’t imagine how much he must hate every citizen he sees.” She paused. “Though, I imagine your other two crewmembers hold even more hatred in their hearts against my people. Tell me, Captain Reyne. Do you still hate citizens as zealously as you did in the Uprising?”
He shook his head. “I never hated citizens. I was just against the unfair treatment of colonists.”
“Ah, but the two lines can become blurred. I imagine many of your torrents in the Uprising couldn’t differentiate between the two.” She paused. “Speaking of the Uprising, I was too young to participate, but I read about how you inspired rebellion. You were never afraid take the lead in battles. It was almost as though you weren’t afraid to die.”
He shrugged. “None of us get out of life alive.”
“No, I suppose not. However, while you had a reputation for taking dangerous risks, I also saw that you were never foolish. I studied your style. You led with your head and not your heart. I consider us kindred spirits in that.”
He guffawed. “A citizen comparing herself to a colonist? Now, I’ve heard it all.”
Her lips curled upward. “We’re more alike than you think. You know what else I think?”
“What’s that?”
“I think you’re still a torrent. Just like your entire crew are still torrents.”
“You’re chasing ghosts. There are no torrents left,” he said simply. “They all died at Broken Mountain.”
“Ah, yes. Broken Mountain.” She gave him a sympathetic look.
He fought to hold himself back from strangling her.
“The entire Collective equates the name Aramis Reyne with Traitor,” she said. “What impresses me is how you’ve managed to stay alive this long. You didn’t change your identity. You still fly the Gryphon. You’re basically spitting in the eye of the torrent spirit. How, in twenty years, did you not end up with a photon blast to the brain?”
Reyne forced himself to breathe slowly in and out. “Just lucky, I guess.”
She cocked her head. “Lucky is one thing you most definitely aren’t.” She leaned forward. “Will you tell me the story?”
His jaw tightened. “I’m guessing you’ve heard it already.”
“I’ve read your records, but they lack the flavor of what really happened. They speak of how a torrent marshal and a medic were at a farm, helping an injured little girl when they were attacked. The marshal was badly injured while holding off the dromadiers so that the medic could escape with her patient. Instead of killing the marshal, they arrested him and brought him to a nearby CUF base. It was at that base, while he was shackled to a gurney, that an officer—a commandant—placed a radio in the marshal’s room so could listen to the attack on Broken Mountain as it happened.
“But, rather than breaking the marshal’s spirit as intended, it sent him into a berserker rage. Somehow, he managed to break free from his bonds and take the officer hostage. The marshal would’ve gotten free, too, except an adjutant showed up with two dromadiers, each one holding a gun to the head of the medic and little girl. They threatened tit for tat, so to speak. The commandant’s life in exchange for the two females. The marshal hadn’t realized that the pair had also been captured, and he surrendered rather than escape and live with their deaths on his conscience. The marshal was held on that base until after the torrents within Broken Mountain surrendered.”
She held up a finger. “Surprisingly, rather than send him to the Citadel for prison or execution, the officer granted the marshal’s freedom. The Gryphon was disarmed, and all three fringe prisoners were released without further delay.”
Reyne’s heart pounded as he relived in his head the weeks he spent at the CUF base. “Nice story, but I don’t see where you’re going with this.”
She frowned. “The records have too many gaps, especially between the time of your attempted escape and your eventual freedom.”
He leaned forward. “Is this why you stopped my ship? To fill in some gaps for your war story?”
The side of her lip curled upward. “No. I have other business, but I’ve always found your story fascinating. Will you tell me why the officer expunged your record?”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
She tapped a finger on the table. “I have two theories. My first theory is that when you found that small, broken girl, surrounded by death, she tugged at the last shreds of humanity you had left. Unable to let her die, you betrayed the torrents to save her life.” She cocked her head. “Or, you were a scapegoat. You remained true to the torrent cause, despite all risks to yourself and to the two females. Whether it was by calculation or by generosity, the officer released you. His actions set you up to take the fall, especially when all the other torrent marshals were sent to the Citadel or escaped to the edges of the fringe.”
Reyne stared at her,
teeth and fists clenched. “You don’t know me.”
She shrugged. “You’re right. I don’t know you, but I bet one of my theories is close to being right.”
He pushed off from his bench. “Are we done here?”
“No, we’re not finished. Sit down.”
He didn’t move. After an interminable silence, he relented and sat down.
“Now that we’ve had a chance to talk, I think I know which theory is correct.”
“And which one might that be?”
Her wrist comm chimed, and she glanced down. She sighed deeply. “Our time together is growing short, and so we must talk about your cargo.”
“Your men will find nothing,” he said coldly. “I’ve never smuggled contraband.”
“It’s not illegal cargo I’m interested in,” she replied. “Tell me about the Genics Corp contract.”
His eyes narrowed as she confirmed his suspicions regarding the reason why they’d been stopped. “There’s nothing to tell. Standard salvage contract. A hauler ended up stranded in the path of a star swarm. We were sent in to retrieve a high-priority package. I have all the paperwork.”
“I’ve read the paperwork. You didn’t find it suspicious that a modern hauler would have a level one catastrophic failure—one where not a single crewmember could reach an escape pod in time—exactly in the path of a star swarm only a few hours away?”
“You tell me. I’m a runner, not a detective.”
“Ah, but you were a chaser when as a conscript in the CUF, were you not? You were paid to solve mysteries and hunt down criminals.” She tilted her head. “What did you find on the hauler? What was the state of the crew?”
“Standard cat fail. All crew dead from exposure. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Really?” Heid watched Reyne for an uncomfortably long moment, and he began to suspect that she knew more than she was letting on. “How convenient for you that we’ll never know now that the ship has been destroyed by a star swarm.”
Her comm chimed again, and she read the message. “I have what I need. My apologies for detaining you and your crew, and my apologies for having to seize the package you salvaged from the hauler.”
Reyne’s hands hit the table. “Why? That was a legal contract. You can’t do that.”
She ignored his question. “My men also removed twenty units of biome kits, as you did not have proper paperwork for those.”
“We found them on the hauler,” he gritted out. “Code Eighty-Four-Bravo-Twenty-Six. It’s fully legal to salvage ships containing supplies facing imminent destruction if the owners cannot retrieve them in time. Paperwork is not required as long as the goods are logged in to the system, which I did. I’m a licensed runner. You can’t take legal cargo without a warrant.”
“I’m a commandant in the Collective Unified Forces. I will do anything I please in order to preserve the Collective’s well-being.”
“Including stealing from colonists?” he snapped back.
“I’m not stealing. I’m reappropriating those biome kits to where they can be better served.”
His eyes narrowed. “Sure you are. And the package?”
She stood and headed to the door. “I believe we’re done for today, Captain. Thank you for the conversation.”
“Wait.” He jumped to his feet. “What’s in the package?”
She stood in the doorway, as though thinking. “You ever wonder about the decision you made while imprisoned on Terra? That you made the wrong decision?”
The abrupt subject change made him take a second or two for her question to process in his head. “Never.”
Heid gave a small nod and an almost-smile. “Don’t be glum. You should be thanking me. After all, I just saved Ice Port.”
Chapter Four
Unfinished Business
Heid
Commandant Gabriela Heid stood before the monitor in her quarters and watched the Gryphon detach from the docking bay. The wheelchair-bound Terran’s skills were impressive, especially considering the colonist’s disability and lack of professional training. Heid was half-tempted to offer the pilot a job on the Arcadia. Heid could see to the repair of the colonist’s spine, but she wasn’t convinced that would be enough to sway the pilot to join the Arcadia’s crew without conscripting the Terran into service. Still, she made a note to have Sebin add the pilot to her personal watch list.
Heid turned her attention back to the package resting on her table. Knowledge of its contents made her nauseous. When she first heard of its existence from sources far too reliable to be wrong, she knew it needed to be destroyed. Yet, despite the actions she and her counterparts had taken to ensure its demise on the Myrad hauler, it continued its path against everything Heid worked for.
She reached for the small tablet and entered her credentials. Once the machine ran through its series of encryption protocols, she fired off a message.
Mason ~
The cake is ready for delivery.
~ Baker
Within minutes, she received an encrypted response.
Baker ~
Driver will pick up the cake from you and deliver it to the party. Ensure he has it ten hours before the event.
~ Mason
She committed the message to memory and then deleted it. As she slid the tablet into her pocket, her door chimed, and her adjutant’s image appeared on the monitor.
“Enter,” she commanded.
The tall, well-built Alluvian strode into her quarters. “All biome kits retrieved from the fringe runner have been secured in cold storage, sir.”
Heid nodded. “Let’s pray the kits can be used for new settlements rather than to rebuild existing ones.”
Sebin glanced at the wall panel.
She motioned to the same panel. “I already have the dampener on. The room is secure. You may speak freely.”
“Any references to the package have been removed from the ship logs, Baker.” He intentionally called her by the code name no one else on the Arcadia knew—a code name that would spell their deaths if it became known to the wrong person.
She sighed in relief. “Excellent work, Sebin. Today, we saved the life of Seamstress as well as the lives of thirty thousand Playans.”
“Have you received instructions on what we are to do with the package?”
“I have. We’ll be heading home to Alluvia. I imagine the crew is in need of some R&R.”
His brows rose. “Alluvia? Isn’t that too dangerous? What if the package breaks open?”
She shook her head. “It’ll never touch Alluvia’s surface. As soon as we reach orbit, Driver will relieve you of the package and see to the remainder of its journey back to its creator.”
A smile crept up his face, but Heid didn’t smile. Instead, she added, “We can only hope that our luck holds and that we’re able to prevent the delivery of other packages.”
He frowned. “Why would there be more? I thought Mason said this was an attack aimed at Vym Patel for her slander against the Collective.”
She shook her head. “I believe that was merely an excuse for Myr’s elite to finally initiate their efforts to take over the fringe. With the colonies under Myr’s control, Alluvia wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Sebin thought for a moment before nodding. “Now is the perfect time for them to make their move. Anyone would be blind to not see the separatist attitudes spreading like floodwater across Myr.”
She held up a finger. “And Alluvia.” She sighed. “I’m afraid the time is here where people will be forced to choose sides. Those for Myr, those for Alluvia and the Collective, or those for entirely something else.”
“The fringe will never support Alluvia in order to preserve the Collective. And, Alluvia will certainly never align with the fringe to bring about a new Collective.”
Her jaw tightened. “Then, Myr will win.” She took a deep breath. “But, let’s leave that discussion for another time. Right now, we need to focus on the immediate mission of searching for oth
er packages.”
“Mason will find out if there are more,” Sebin offered hopefully. “He has to.”
“Let’s hope he does so in time.” She paused. “I’ll secure the package in my personal safe along with further instructions. You know the access code. Retrieve the package the moment we reach Alluvian orbit. I’ll count on you to handle it from there.”
“I’ll see it done.” His gaze softened. “Is there anything you need?”
“No. Get some rest. You’ll need it. I worry the CUF will be busier after United Day. And, as will you.”
He frowned. “How so?”
She smiled warmly. “Mason said your training is near completion.”
His lips parted before curling upward into a smile. Then, he stood taller and clicked his boots together. “For the free.”
She clicked her boots in response. “For the Founders.”
Chapter Five
Infinite Problems
Even after Boden worked miracles in patching the hull, the Gryphon docked at Ice Port on Playa three hours after their delivery deadline. No matter how fast Reyne hustled from the docks, he knew he was in for a penalty. He hadn’t even stepped through Kason’s door before his usually stoic handler jumped to his feet.
“You’re late. In all the years we’ve worked together, you’ve never missed a deadline. Not once. Please tell me it’s not what I think it is.”
“Well,” Reyne drawled. “If you’re thinking I no longer have the package, then yeah, it’s exactly what you’re thinking.”
Kason fell back into his seat and dropped his head into his hands. After a string of curses, he leaned back and sighed. “What happened?”
“Our friends in the CUF are what happened,” Reyne said before taking a seat across from Kason. “What I’ve been trying to figure out is how they even knew about the package. The contract was privately negotiated through Genics Corp, wasn’t it?”