by Jaleta Clegg
“Luke,” one of the men said in a gravelly voice. “There ain’t enough women for dancing.”
Luke stopped looking down my dress and turned to the man who had spoken. “What do the women say?”
The five women present, most as hard and mean looking as the men, didn’t seem inclined to dance. The one woman who did, very young with pink striped hair and more filling her dress than her head, pouted and hung on her man’s arm.
“Then what do you want? No business tonight, only pleasure.” Luke gestured broadly with the arm that wasn’t keeping me imprisoned.
“Do you still have your gaming room?” Lopei asked. “High stakes only. Those here can afford it.”
Luke grinned nastily. “I like the way you think, Lopei. Open the game room. Does five thousand credits sound reasonable?”
They shuffled their feet, not wanting to agree. Under Luke’s heavy gaze, they reluctantly nodded. The pink haired woman clapped her hands and squealed. The only thing appealing about that action was the way her dress front bounced. The men next to her seemed to enjoy it anyway. Luke led the way to the game room, pushing me with a hand of steel. It looked friendly enough, but the way he handled me told me that I was to cooperate.
The game room was a gambling den on a lower level in the middle of the house with no windows but plenty of sparkly chandeliers. Various games, most of which I knew nothing about, were set up around the room. I stood next to Luke until my feet ached, watching him win money from any who dared play him. I knew he cheated. I didn’t think he’d appreciate me pointing it out. I stood next to him and pretended I was somewhere else.
I was more than happy to go with Rinth when Luke finally dismissed me. I sat on the bed, in my room rubbing my sore feet, and wondering how long I’d have to put up with Luke. And what other surprises he’d pull.
I went back into the sitting room, needing to see the stars. It was a habit I’d had since the orphanage. Every night I could, I would look out the narrow windows at the stars high above and promise myself that someday I would fly between them, far away from Tivor. The stars promised me freedom. It gave me comfort to see them now, strings of bright diamonds high above. I had a ship, somewhere. I would leave.
Luke’s guests left. Their flitters lifted over the house, streaking off to the southeast. I watched their lights until they faded over the far horizon. I promised myself that I would escape. I promised myself the stars.
Chapter Eighteen
“Payment for cargo,” Clark said wearily, dropping a packet on the table. Kimmel was cold, deep in the middle of winter. The streets were covered in fresh snow. It had taken all day to shift the cargo from the ship’s hold to a warehouse in a town several miles away. He stripped off the bulky coat he wore, dropping his frozen gloves to the table.
Jasyn sat at the table and watched him, her eyes far away.
“Where are the other two?” Clark asked. He couldn’t see or hear the two Enforcers, Juen and Ilod.
“Gone, to the base,” Jasyn answered absently. “How deep is the snow?”
“Past my knees.” Clark sat down and pulled off his boots, now soaked through. His wet socks came off next. His feet were cold, white in patches. He rubbed them gently, wincing as circulation and warmth returned.
“I met Dace in a blizzard,” Jasyn said, her voice lightyears away. “We were stranded in my apartment with Jerimon for several days. I made bets with myself which one of them was going to kill the other first.”
“How is your brother?” Clark asked. “Heard from him lately?”
She shook her head. “He’ll turn up again. Someday. He always does.”
He stood, gathered his wet clothing. “I need to dry off.”
She looked at him, really seeing him for the first time. “You look cold. I’ll get something for you.” She busied herself in the galley.
Clark went to his cabin, closing the door while he changed into dry clothes. It hurt to watch Jasyn grieve. She was good as ever at navigating, but nothing else was done quite right. She tended to be distracted easily, fading into distant thoughts. He missed her smile, her spontaneous laugh. She had taken everything belonging to Dace and put it in Dace’s cabin. Then locked the door. He didn’t know what to do or say. He treated her like glass, something that would break if not handled with the greatest care.
When he returned, she was back at the table, staring into steam rising from two mugs. Her hair was bound in a tight braid, a change from before when it tended to swing loose in a dark cloud. She looked up as he took a seat.
“What do we do now? Do we find more cargo? Do I give up?” Her voice faded on the last question.
He reached out impulsively and took her hand. It lay in his, limp, just as it had on the table. “What do you want to do, Jasyn?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” she said, pulling her hand free. “You and the other Patrol will leave. I can’t fly alone. I don’t want to find crew again.” She wrapped her hands around her mug, lacing her fingers together so tight the knuckles turned white. “I’ll sell the ship. And maybe go to Lady Rina and ask for a job.”
He noticed her nails were chewed, the polish on them chipped. “And lose your dream?”
Her eyes were full of pain. “What do you know about dreams?” She stood, taking the mug with her.
“I know how it feels to lose one. Don’t give up the ship yet.”
“I don’t have a crew! I can’t fly it!” She pushed past him and slapped the controls for her cabin door.
“I can fly.”
“You’re Patrol, you’ll go back to your regular assignment. I’m beginning to realize why Dace hated the Patrol so badly. You have no qualms about turning someone’s life upside down, ruining it, for whatever flimsy reasons you think you may have. And then you have the nerve to justify it by claiming it’s for the good of the Empire.”
“Lowell might, but I don’t!” Clark rose to his feet.
“You’re still Patrol. You still take his orders. What difference is there?”
“And what about Tayvis that you and Dace keep talking about? He’s one of Lowell’s top men. What makes him so much better than me?”
“You aren’t half the man he is. Don’t drag him into this.”
“Then where is he? Why isn’t he here, if he’s so great?”
They stood nose to nose, yelling at each other. He saw the tears gathering in her eyes and backed down.
“Jasyn, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me again. I’m sick of it.”
“I’m sick of seeing you hurting and pushing everyone away. I didn’t know her as long as you did, true. I still miss her.” He turned away, to hide emotions on his own face he didn’t want to share.
“You’re as bad as I am,” Jasyn said, her voice brittle.
“No, I’m worse. I took this job when Lowell offered it because I thought it would be exciting, working undercover. I was blind to what it really meant. On a Patrol ship, it isn’t family, not like you were with Dace. I didn’t know what it was like to fly on a small ship. I never thought I’d care so much.” He looked at her, deciding to be honest with his feelings. He took the first step towards pulling down the wall between them. “I want to stay as crew. If you’ll keep me.”
“And what about Lowell? What about the Patrol?”
“My assignment is up in another month. I’ll ask for early discharge.”
The pain in her face eased slightly. “You’d do that?”
“Yes.” Emotions chased each other across Jasyn’s face. She settled on acceptance.
“I’d like to have you stay on, as pilot. And cargo handler.” She set her mug on the table, tracing the rim with one finger. “You’ve done a great job so far.”
“And we’ll find another pilot so we can keep flying.”
She didn’t want to hear that. She closed her eyes, the pain naked on her face. He couldn’t stand it. He touched her shoulders, wanting to offer comfort. She opened her eyes, huge and violet in
her thin face. He could drown in them. She raised her hand, touching his cheek. He stepped closer, his hands closing on her arms, feeling her warmth. She turned away, pulling free of his hold, ducking into her cabin. The door slid shut. He was left holding air. He sank into the chair, his head in his hands.
The hatch opened, letting in a blast of icy air. He didn’t look up, expecting it to be Juen and Ilod, back from the Patrol offices.
“Major Clark, good work.”
Clark looked up at the enigmatic smile on Lowell’s face. Other silent people in Enforcer black entered behind Lowell. Clark shivered in the cold breeze from the open hatch.
“I failed, sir,” he said, tired and hurting and no longer caring who knew it. “She’s dead. I let myself get distracted, I thought she was safe.”
The hatch slid closed. The other people moved quietly, stowing gear, checking the ship.
“Are you certain about that, Major?” Lowell’s voice was even, his silver eyes gave nothing away.
“She fell nine stories. Dace is dead.” Clark’s voice broke on the last word. It came out a whisper.
“Did you find a body?” Lowell asked as if he were asking about the weather.
Clark shook his head.
“Then don’t believe she’s actually dead until you do.” Lowell sat in the chair across from Clark and slid a photo across the table.
Clark picked it up and stared. Dace’s face looked back at him, her eyes open but blank. He looked at Lowell, confused.
“You haven’t been keeping up with local news, have you?” Lowell took back the photo and tucked it away in his pocket. “Headlines screaming, ‘Heiress kidnapped. Two million credits demanded as ransom from her father.’ Dace is very much alive. The actual daughter is safely hidden.”
“How…” Clark started, questions crowding faster than he could speak them.
“They probably caught her using the maglev devices they’re so good at on Ytirus. I haven’t pieced together how they got her off the planet.” Lowell studied Clark. “You did well. For someone completely untrained and unprepared for this work.”
“You pushed us this way,” Clark said, comprehension dawning on him slowly. “You manipulated cargoes. You got Dace banned from Viya. You were behind all of it.”
“Much as I’d like to take credit, I did very little of what you are accusing me of doing.” Lowell tilted his head to one side. “Dace’s value to me is difficult to categorize. She has a knack for getting herself mixed up in trouble. In less than a year, she’s collected more information for me than agents that have worked for twenty. I had vague rumors that something was going on in the Cygnus sector, but my agents couldn’t find anything solid. The only thing I manipulated was getting you hired as pilot on her ship.”
“I don’t believe that. You knew they’d kidnap her.” Clark was beginning to understand why Dace had been so paranoid about Lowell. He was also beginning to believe the stories of Lowell’s uncanny ability to arrange events to his own advantage.
“I had no idea they’d do that. I was hoping they’d show their hand and I could catch them before Dace even knew they were after her.” He slid another photo onto the table, Dace with a decent haircut and makeup, wearing an expensive dress.
Clark picked up the photo, staring at the simpering smile on Dace’s face. Not Dace, he realized, it had to be the other woman. He dropped the photo back on the table. Clark didn’t trust Lowell’s candid openness. “Where is Dace?”
“As far as I know, she’s most likely on Burundia.”
“As far as you know? You aren’t sure?” Clark asked.
“I have no solid proof that Dace is there, no. But I do know the man most likely to have kidnapped her. Luke Verity recently purchased an estate on the planet. The ransom demand is his style.”
“Why are you telling me this? Why not just pack up your Enforcers and raid his estate?”
“Because we need a way to land on Burundia inconspicuously. Burundia is under private ownership, except for the ten square miles that make up the spaceport. There is no Patrol base on Burundia. Your ship can land there without drawing undue attention.”
“Except that Dace is there. They’d know.”
“They think she’s Arramiya Daviessbrowun. What connection would she have to you? No one will suspect you have anything to do with her. You’re just a ship contracted to deliver cargo.” Lowell sat in a chair.
“I know I’m going to hate myself for getting in deeper, but who has her?”
Lowell leaned back, a look of immense satisfaction on his face. “I knew you’d see the light, Major.”
“Jasyn has to approve,” Clark said. “It’s her ship, not mine.”
“Approve what?” Jasyn said, coming out of her cabin. “Who are all of these people?”
“Good afternoon, Gentle Hom,” Lowell said, rising from his chair and bowing slightly to her.
Jasyn’s mouth tightened. She’d never met him face to face, but she had heard enough from Dace to recognize who he must be. “Get off my ship.”
“I think you will want to hear what I have to say,” Lowell said.
“He says Dace is alive,” Clark said. “And he knows where she is.”
Jasyn took a steadying breath, clutching her hands into fists. “What have you done with her?”
“I haven’t done anything,” Lowell said. “Please, sit, Jasyn. I’m going to need your help to get Dace back. In one piece and still alive if possible.”
Jasyn dropped bonelessly into a chair. Her fists landed on the table in front of her as if her hands no longer belonged to her. “Tell me,” she said, her voice tight.
“Let me start at what I believe is the beginning,” Lowell said. “Three years ago, the head of the Berrilian Syndicate was attacked in a takeover bid. The rumors said it was his groomed successor, tired of waiting. He was killed in the fight, but rumors also spoke of a shadow man, the real source of the takeover. He disappeared. A year ago he was spotted in the Cygnus sector, here as a matter of fact. He’s reported to have a criminal organization headquartered on Kiju, small stuff mostly. Petty theft, minor drug smuggling, nothing serious. Yet. He’s building his power. Brun Daviessbrowun is the major power in the Cygnus sector, Arramiya’s father. His wife was murdered quite a few years ago by another Syndicate trying to move into this territory. Daviessbrowun used his money and influence to keep them out. He put his daughter into hiding to prevent a kidnapping or worse.”
“And when they saw Dace, they assumed it was Arramiya Daviessbrowun,” Clark said, understanding the photos.
Lowell anticipated Jasyn’s questions and pushed the photos across the table towards her. “She bears a very close resemblance to the real Arramiya Daviessbrowun.”
“Who has her? What’s the man’s name?” Jasyn said in a voice icier than the winter wind outside the ship.
“He calls himself Luke Verity. He has a large estate on Burundia. He usually spends little time there, preferring to be closer to his center of activity. He moved in three weeks ago and hasn’t left since.”
“Why haven’t you arrested him?” Jasyn asked.
“We have no solid proof,” Lowell admitted. “Three of my agents have died in the last six months. They were close to his organization. He is ruthless, suspicious, and very, very good at what he does.”
“You think Dace is still alive?”
“Luke Verity is still demanding ransom from Hom Daviessbrowun. He’s made contact three times now. The Gentle Hom is on his way to Burundia right now in his private yacht with as many credits as he could liquidate.”
“And what do you want from us?” Jasyn asked, including Clark in her question.
Lowell didn’t miss the aborted gesture Clark made towards Jasyn. Her hands were still knotted in fists, her knuckles white. Clark wanted to smooth away the tension. He tucked his own hands together, lacing his fingers loosely.
“I want your ship,” Lowell said baldly.
“You can’t have it.” Jasyn stood up. �
��This is over. Get out.”
“I need your help,” Lowell continued. “You will be well paid.”
“And if I refuse, you’ll take what you want anyway.” Jasyn dropped back into the chair. “Why the ship? What do you want me to do?”
“As I was explaining to Clark, your ship can land on Burundia without drawing undue attention. I want you to take passengers, masquerading as crew.”
“Who?”
“Myself, Sector Chief Querran, and as many Enforcers as you have room for.” He looked beyond her, where Juen and Ilod were busy stowing gear. “Juen and Ilod as well.”
“You knew I’d agree, didn’t you,” Jasyn said. “That’s why they’re moving things in already, isn’t it.”
“There isn’t time to spare, Jasyn.” Lowell patted her hand. She pulled it away.
“We can take no more than twelve, and that’s squeezing it.” Jasyn looked around the ship, watching the men tramping through carrying large packages.
“They’ve stowed gear in your holds,” Lowell said.
Jasyn bit off whatever she was going to say, accepting the inevitable.
“There isn’t time to argue. We need to be moving as soon as possible,” Lowell said.
“Give me a few minutes to…” Jasyn swallowed hard. “To rearrange some things.” She stood, crossing the few steps to Dace’s door. She stopped, her hand on the control plate, and looked back at Lowell. “She’s alive? You’re certain?”
“There aren’t any guarantees, but, yes, reasonably certain.”
Jasyn nodded and went into Dace’s cabin.
“Twelve men aren’t going to be enough,” Clark said. “Unless you’ve got a whole fleet of traders lined up, it’s hopeless.”
“There’s no official Patrol base on Burundia. There is, however, a full research expedition from Planetary Survey. I’ve arranged for them to do a population study on carnivores in the area of Luke Verity’s estate. Of course, the request requires a much larger presence.”
“I could almost admire your deviousness,” Clark said. “Jasyn was right about you.”