by James Wilks
Staples leaned forward in her chair and put her handcuffed hands on the table. It was cold to the touch. “Not by him, surely.”
“No, I don’t expect he’ll be answering questions anytime soon.” His slow drawl made it seem as though they were sitting on a porch sipping whiskey rather than facing off in an interrogation room. “I do have some questions for you, however.” He ran his hand over his short graying hair.
“I’ve told you what happened.”
“Yeah, you did. That you and your friends were eating dinner-” he began.
“Had finished dinner,” she corrected with some insistence.
He paused for a moment while he examined her. “I’m not trying to trick you, Ms. Staples. I’m trying to find some things out. Fine then, you just finished dinner.” He waited for her to take over.
Staples let out a sigh and barely resisted rolling her eyes. “We just finished dinner. We were enjoying a drink when Mr. Jang, my security chief, fired on three people who were approaching us. I thought he was crazy until I saw that they were armed. There was a gunfight, a friend of ours came to our rescue, and my friend Donovan Templeton was shot, probably saving my life. I don’t think Overton or Jang shot anyone they didn’t need to.”
“And these friends of yours, Carl Overton and Evelyn Schilling?” He made a show of looking at a file in front of him to get their names, but it was clear he knew them. Despite his posturing, Staples sensed that the man sitting across from her was really quite intelligent.
“As I said, they were friends we made on Cronos Station when we were last out here. They were coming to meet us. Fortunately, Overton carries a firearm. Is there a law against that?”
“Nope,” he replied almost immediately. “Something about being on the frontier out here. People like their guns; something about the frontier brings it out of ‘em. They’re not likely to shoot though rock ice or polycarbonate windows. Don’t ask me what they think they need them for, but I don’t make the laws. I just enforce ‘em.”
“And is there a problem with my story?”
“Well, only about a hundred, but not with anything you just said. I’ve got the security footage from the restaurant and outside. Seems everything you’ve said matches to a T.” He nodded as he spoke.
“Then what’s the problem?” Despite the sheriff’s assurances, she was desperate to get out of the police station and to go check on Don.
“Your ship shows up at my town shot to hell. Pirates you say.” She began to object, but he put up a pacifying palm. “I know, I know. Your logs match. But someone sure as hell tried to end you. Then you’re in my town for two days and suddenly one of our nicer restaurants gets turned into the OK Corral-”
“I don’t know what that is,” Staples interjected.
“Then let’s use the word bloodbath,” he continued easily. “Four people shot, two of them killed. No civilians injured, thank God, not counting the three who tried to kill you. And your explanation for this is?”
“My security officer is a good shot.”
“Now that’s-”
“I know that’s not what you meant,” she cut him off again. “I don’t know why they attacked us. Why don’t you ask them?”
“‘Cause they’re dead,” he said simply.
That brought her up short. “The woman too? I saw them taking her away. I thought she…” she trailed off. She tried to remember where Overton’s shots had hit the woman with the short dark hair. The leg and abdomen she had thought, but she couldn’t be sure.
“Oh, she survived the shooting. Her heart stopped. Complications from the injuries, the doctor thinks. Coroner’ll tell us more, I suspect.”
“I’m sorry.” Staples certainly would have chosen her crew’s life over this stranger’s, but she had no desire to see anyone dead. She was also disappointed because she had hoped that the woman might have provided an explanation for her actions. Staples had no doubt that Victor was involved in some way, but how he had motivated her to open fire in a crowded restaurant was a mystery. The more she thought about it, the less the actions of their would-be killers made sense.
The man across from her surprised her by saying, “I believe you. I also believe you when you say you’d never seen any of them before. We’re tracing their actions for the past several days, and so far, there’s nothing to link you to them. I don’t think you’ve been here long enough to piss people off enough to kill you.” He reflected for a moment. “But then, people do seem to want you dead. Why is that, d’you think?” He raised his eyebrows expectantly.
Staples felt a temptation that was becoming familiar. She wanted to tell him everything. This man might be an ally, a sympathetic ear. She could tell him about the Nightshade vessel, about Victor, about all of it. She had evidence. She had a crew full of people who would give the same story, one of whom was a sentient robot. It would be so easy to open her mouth and let the truth come out.
“I honestly have no idea.” She hoped it sounded honest. She couldn’t involve this man. He wouldn’t believe her, and if he did, what could he do? There was always the possibility that he was part of Victor’s network of spies and assassins, and if he wasn’t, then she would be putting his life in danger by telling him. Even if she was somehow able to gain his support and convince the solar system of Victor’s existence, it would also mean the end of Brutus. She was not ready to do that. At least, not yet.
Risking her life and the lives of her crew to protect the construct that had saved those lives was one thing. Trading them away was something else. Both Bethany and Templeton had almost been killed in front of her. If her people really started to die, she wasn’t at all sure that she wouldn’t hand Brutus over to the nearest authorities, ethics be damned.
Glover watched her for a minute, then finally muttered, “Shame. Not a shame you don’t know, but a shame you won’t tell me.” He glanced down at the badge on his chest. “We’re here to help, you know.”
Perhaps this was a good man, Staples thought, which was all the more reason to lie to him. “I wish I could help you. Really, I do.” It was not hard for her to sound genuine this time.
“All righty then,” he replied and stood up. “We’ll need to hold you for a bit longer while we talk to the rest of your people. Law says I have twenty-four hours. Doubt I’ll need all of that, but we’ll see.”
It was about three in the morning, and the sheriff of Titan Prime stood in the lobby of the police station across from Evelyn, Jang, and Overton. He looked very tired. Their statements had been taken, their fingerprints scanned, and finally, their restraints removed. Evelyn stood rubbing her wrists; the red welts still showed easily against her fair and freckled flesh. Overton and Jang, both taller and considerably wider than her, stood at ease. Their belongings had been returned, including Jang’s weapon, though he had no bullets left for it.
“Well, I’d like to thank you for your cooperation in all this.” Glover gestured around him, encompassing the station and perhaps all of Titan Prime. “It’s up to you, but I’d suggest you head back to your ship and stay there. Bein’ honest here,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “I think that whoever wants you dead is likely to try again.”
“Sir, your concern is appreciated,” Overton said, and Evelyn nodded agreement.
“Well, I’d prefer they not try to do it in my town. Also, you seem like nice people.”
Evelyn almost laughed at that. “You’re the nicest space sheriff I ever met,” she said, and extended her hand. He took it easily, and she found his hand warm and smooth. “When can we expect our friend to be released?”
“Ms. Staples?” he asked as if he weren’t sure. “She already was. ‘Bout an hour ago. Would imagine she’s back on your ship by now.” Jang and Overton traded looks of surprise.
“Oh,” Evelyn said. “I would have thought you’d release her last for… some reason.”
“Nope,” Glover smiled. “Finished with her first. Good luck!” He raised a hand to wave at each of them, then turn
ed and disappeared through a door into the back of the station. The three traded baffled looks at the man’s strange behavior, but there seemed no reason to stay.
They stepped outside through the glass double doors into one of Titan Prime’s central domes. It was murky twilight outside, and Jang couldn’t figure out why until he saw that the lights around the station had been turned down. The streetlights that stood sentry on the avenues as well as the larger lamps fastened to the dome had all been dimmed to simulate nighttime, all in an effort to pander to the citizenry’s circadian rhythm.
They walked a hundred meters away from the station in silence before Evelyn spoke to Jang. “You’d better ask if there’s any word on Don.” She indicated his watch communicator.
“In a minute,” he replied, his eyes darting back and forth. They were in a business sector, and closed storefronts and restaurants walled the street on either side of them. Up ahead there was a series of signs, and one of them was labeled “Ports” and pointed left.
She frowned. “Why?”
“We’re being followed,” Overton replied.
Evelyn slowly turned her head and glanced behind her as clandestinely as she could. Her attempts at subtlety were laughable; she would never make a good spy, and Overton spoke before she could give herself away completely.
“Police. Two deputies. They’re not trying too hard to hide it.”
“Indeed. Not much point at this time of night, plainclothes or not,” Jang added.
“Are they armed?” Evelyn asked.
“Yes, and they’re nervous,” Overton replied.
“I just want to be very, very clear on exactly what you are suggesting, Mrs. MacDonnell,” Jabir said. He was wearing his usual white coat over a beige dress shirt and blue tie. His hair was freshly trimmed thanks to a collective grooming excursion he had made with Charis, John, and Gwen the day before. Jabir, Charis, and John stood in the hallway outside Medical. The door was closed, and Bethany was in a sedation-heavy sleep inside.
“I’m suggesting that we go and get our friends,” she replied evenly, staring intently into his brown eyes.
“Yes, but we’ve established that the local constabulary has incarcerated our friends for the time being,” the doctor replied. John had been watching the local news on a surface in their quarters when he had seen coverage of the shootout at Atlas. Among the shots of dead bodies and bullet pocked walls there had been a shot of Staples, Overton, Jang, and Evelyn in manacles in the back of the police vehicle. “They’re not likely to part with them simply because we favor them with our charm. However, if we wait the appointed twenty-four hours dictated by local law, I believe that they will be returned to us.”
“Look, it’s not hard to figure out what happened.” Charis was flushed and clearly impatient with the doctor’s tendency towards verbosity. “Someone tried to kill them. Someone paid by Victor. If Jang hadn’t been with them, they’d probably be dead.” She looked briefly at her husband, who stood next to her silently for the moment. “John called the local hospital and they said Don is expected to recover, but he’s in protective custody and we can’t see him.”
“I am quite concerned about Mr. Templeton, to say the least. However, I thought that you would be thrilled to see that Ms. Schilling is still alive, Mrs. MacDonnell.”
“Would you call me Charis, for Christ’s sake!” she yelled, then looked apologetically at the door to Medical, worried that she had woken Bethany.
“I’d prefer not to, but I’ll do as you wish. The point is, all we need to do is wait and our friends will be returned to us, unless of course they are charged with something. Either way, we should have news soon.” For his crewmate’s sake, he allowed some haste to creep into his voice that he clearly did not feel. The ability to mollify irate patients was one he had honed for years, and he had found that it had its uses when he was off duty as well.
“What could they be charged with?” Charis asked it as a challenge, as if Jabir somehow represented the local sheriff.
“I’m quite sure I don’t know. I can tell you what we’ll be charged with if we march into the detention area armed and insistent that our crewmates be freed.” He leaned forward as he spoke, and this brought their noses to within a few centimeters. John tensed to separate the two, though he couldn’t imagine either one of them actually becoming violent.
She did not back down. “Better than letting them sit there for Victor’s assassins to pick them off. There is no way to know that the police - the entire station - hasn’t been bought off.”
“We’d hardly still be alive if it had been.” He finally looked away from her to her husband briefly. “The four of us had a splendid day yesterday walking about town. I’m willing to grant that if there was an attempt on the lives of our friends that Victor was to blame, but I don’t think we can allow paranoia to guide us. We’re as likely to be shot dead by honest officers as by corrupt ones if we attempt to rescue Captain Staples and the others.”
Charis put her fists on her hips. “I think we should go and get them. What do you think, John?”
John Park suddenly found himself in a very uncomfortable position. He obviously knew that he was expected to back his wife, but in this case, he did not agree with her. Fortunately, Jabir saved him, at least for the time being.
“Charis,” Jabir waited for her to turn back to him before continuing. “Please consider Gwen in this as well. You cannot both risk your lives in something this foolish.”
Charis’ face darkened. “Don’t use her like that.”
“I am not using her. I am speaking of the rest of her life, one that should include the both of you. We have been in danger since the captain first accepted the job from Libom Pangalactic back on Earth, but there are reasonable amounts of danger and there is foolhardiness, and this is most certainly the latter. It may be that Mr. Templeton will be killed while under police guard. It may be that another attempt will be made on the lives of the captain and the others. But we cannot stop them.”
“No, but Dinah could. I wish she would answer her goddamn communicator,” John said. He took a step away from the two to try the absent engineer again, but there was no answer, just as there had been none the previous five times he had tried.
“Let us wait, at least a little while,” Jabir said soothingly, and Charis acquiesced, finally tired of arguing. Her husband suspected that she had wanted to be talked out of her armed rescue idea, but that insisting upon it for some time had made her feel less powerless. He understood. He wanted to do something as well. Victor was an unseen and unknown enemy. He struck seemingly from out of nowhere, and he appeared able to get to anyone. John was relieved to hear that Evelyn had survived, but it did not alleviate the frustration of feeling like they were fighting a far stronger opponent, and doing so blindfolded to boot.
“Look, I’m going to go check on Gwen. Can you let me know if you hear anything?” John asked, as eager to be away from the fight and Medical as he was to check on his daughter.
Charis sighed and nodded. After he left, walking gingerly down the passage, Jabir gestured towards Medical. “Would you like to come in and visit with Bethany?”
It took a moment for her to mentally shift gears. She sighed again and tried to shake the tension in her shoulders. “Sure, why don’t-”
Her watch pinged. Instantly, she tapped it and held it up for both of them to hear.
The voice was Jang’s. “Charis, is the Captain with you? We’ve been let go, and the sheriff told us that Staples had been released before us, but she’s not answering.”
Charis looked at the doctor with wide-eyed alarm, and this time he appeared genuinely concerned as well. “No, Jang. She’s not here.” She had set the ship to notify her via communicator of anyone entering or leaving through the keypad locked door. To the best of her knowledge, Staples, Dinah, Jang, and Templeton were the only members of the crew who were off ship. “We were just debating whether or not to come get you.” She left the particulars of their method
intentionally vague.
“I think you’d better,” Jang replied. “We’re about a quarter of a kilometer from the police station. We’ve got two deputies following us. I’m armed, but I’m out of ammunition. Neither Schilling nor Overton has weapons, and we need some. I need some .32 rounds as well. We’ll meet at…” there was a pause, “the Bodega.”
“All right,” Charis said. “Kojo, what do you think happened to her?”
“Best guess is she’s still being held. I can’t believe she wouldn’t contact you if they released her.”
Charis was nodding, though of course Jang couldn’t see it. “They probably wouldn’t just turn her out on the street at two in the morning without protection after someone tried to kill her either, would they?”
“Hard to imagine they would.”
Jabir nodded gravely in assent. “Looks like you’ll get your rescue attempt after all, Mrs. MacDonnell. Would you like to call your husband?”
Charis thought for a moment. “No.”
“No?” he repeated.
“No. He’ll either try to talk me out of it, or worse, he’ll insist on coming with us. You were right about one thing, Doctor. Gwen needs at least one of us.”
Staples woke to the sound of her name. She was lying on a cot in a cell. She guessed it was still nighttime, but she couldn’t be sure. The cot had sheets and padding, though the latter was almost unnecessary in the light Titan gravity. The room was pleasantly and surprisingly warm after the interrogation room, and so she had not bothered with the sheet. She turned to her left and saw the stooped figure of Sheriff Glover standing outside the bars and looking in at her. He was still wearing his uniform and sidearm, and he looked very weary.
She sat up and answered him. “Yes?”
“I’m afraid we need to talk,” he sounded regretful.
Her hand went to her mouth. “Is it Don? Is he all right?”
“I assume so. No news on that front, which I take to be good news.” He placed his hands on his hips and looked down at the floor of her cell.