by Jaleta Clegg
Lowell moved on to a different picture. “Smugglers, drug runners, hit men, the whole gang,” he said, mostly to himself.
“What are they doing here?” Trey asked. “There isn’t anything on Burundia except forest. Ninety-nine percent of the land is wildlife preserves.”
“And the other one percent?” Lowell asked.
“Rich people’s houses,” Trey answered. “…Oh.”
“Yes. Oh. Burundia is very much a private system. Even the Patrol has to get permission to land.” He looked out the ruined window at the flitter. Querran ran a hand through her hair, her expression frustrated. She spoke into the com, still arguing. He debated using his own authority to force the issue. No, Burundia was her jurisdiction. Besides, he hated revealing his rank, which was why most of his uniforms lacked insignia. He looked back at the pictures of the party that had been so fatally interrupted.
He found Dace in one, standing at the far side of the patio, clutching a drink so tightly her hands were white. Her face was pale, her eyes frightened. He enlarged her picture. Luke Verity must have done something awful to her. Dace was not one to cringe. She wore a pastel green dress that floated around her, revealing more than concealing. He found her again, in the pictures taken by surveillance right before Larkin had been captured at the gate by guards that weren’t supposed to be there.
Why a gate? The only way to access the estate was by flitter. Burundia’s forests had no roads, no foot trails, nothing to mar the wilderness except the isolated estates. Lowell pulled over the sheet with the aerial photos of the area. A thin track led away from the gate. He traced it with his finger until it disappeared under the smothering canopy of trees. Lowell went back to the surveillance pictures. He tapped the sheet, thinking. He ran his finger across the map. The road led to nowhere, tracing a winding path along a relatively flat ridge to a knob several miles away.
“What’s here?” Lowell asked Trey, tapping the knob on the map.
“Rocks, as far as I know. The bushies avoid it so we haven’t looked.”
Lowell pulled out his com and thumbed it. Jukin answered. “How is the search going?”
“Slowly,” Jukin said. “Boline and his team flushed a dozen. They’re stuck in a tunnel. Paltronis is working her way over to get them out. Are we getting help soon, sir?”
“As soon as Chief Querran can get them landed, which won’t be for a day or two. Do your best, Jukin, and try to keep the casualties low.” Lowell signed off then sat, tapping the com against his lip as he studied the map.
“Are my people safe?” Trey asked.
“There were a few caught too close. I’m sorry, Trey. The rest have been pulled back to the camp.”
Trey ran hands through his red hair. It stuck up, looking almost comical. Trey’s face had aged in the last few hours. He took this latest bad news with only a grimace.
“We’re sending them back to camp, Trey. We did the best we could. It was too soon.”
“I get to identify their bodies and send them home. It won’t be the first time.” Trey tried to sound as calm as Lowell did but failed. “We did warn them it was a dangerous survey. I can tell their families that the bushies got them. It’s happened before.”
“It might be better than telling the truth. I’m not sure if your reputation will be worse or better if they know you were involved in taking down a crime lord. I’ll make sure you get sufficient funds to compensate their families.”
Lowell turned back to the photos, tapping the knob of rock. Something was not quite right about it. He couldn’t figure out what made him twitch, though. He looked through the photos of the people at the party. His eyes picked out Dace. Her pale face haunted him. Where had she gone? Was she buried somewhere, dead in the rubble? He didn’t have men to spare to hunt through the entire mansion. They had their hands full removing the last of the resistance and trying to catch the real quarry. Luke Verity had also disappeared. Lowell didn’t allow himself to think of what Luke would do with Dace if he found out she wasn’t Arramiya Daviessbrowun. It looked like Luke had Dace, where else would she have disappeared to?
His eye caught another face in the pictures, a man standing near Dace. His thin face and ginger hair were familiar. Lowell racked his brain trying to place the man. He’d seen him before, something to do with Dace. He enlarged the picture, focusing on the man’s face. Dace watched the man out of the side of her eyes, her fear plain to read if one knew what to look for.
“Stupid Planetary Authority,” Querran said as she walked through the window, glass crunching. “He wasn’t going to let my men land. Until I threatened to put the whole planet under military law. As it is, the shuttles have to land at the port and use flitters to get here. Should be by tomorrow evening.”
“I hope it isn’t too late,” Lowell said, letting some of his anxiety show.
Querran settled at the table, a frown creasing her face. “What is it, Lowell? I’ve never seen you upset over anything before. What are you afraid of?”
“We need more men. We can’t search fast enough.” He rubbed his hand over his upper lip, a nervous gesture he rarely let anyone see. “Maybe I’m just tired.”
“No sign of her?”
“Or of Luke Verity. Or of half these people.” He flicked his finger at the photos spread over the table.
“The cruisers will stop anyone who tries to leave the planet. And I have fifty well trained troops who will be here tomorrow. And several hundred more if we need them.” She shot a glance at Trey.
“They’ll ruin our data,” Trey said automatically. He didn’t look as if he cared about the bushies anymore.
“And you didn’t think the cruisers were necessary.” Querran nudged Lowell. She’d waited years to catch him at a disadvantage. Ever since that sim at the Academy, the first time he’d pulled the unexpected and made her look stupid. She’d almost given up hope of getting him back. It didn’t feel as good as she thought it would.
Lowell didn’t answer. He stared at the pictures, at the one that showed a closeup of a very frightened young woman.
“What is so important about her?” Querran asked. “Luke Verity isn’t that important, not yet. You could have left him to me. Why this woman, Grant?” She sensed this was deeper than just retrieving a kidnap victim and breaking up a fledging syndicate.
Grant Lowell looked at Querran, met her eyes. “You have grandchildren, Suella. You should understand.”
“She got to you, didn’t she? Who is she, really? I tried accessing her file, using the name you gave me. I got the strangest pile of half lies I’ve ever read.”
“She’s an independent trader, who happens to own a ship with the charming Jasyn Pai. Just as her file says.” Lowell shifted the picture. Another shot of the man who was almost familiar filled the sheet.
“Someday, Lowell, you owe me her story.” Querran leaned back, crossing her arms and yawning.
“Help me find her, alive, and I’ll owe you much more than that.” Lowell turned the picture. His memory shifted and he remembered the man. He smiled and then frowned. “What is he doing here?”
“Who?” Querran leaned over the table to look at the picture.
“A miserable excuse for a pirate named Dysun Farr. I thought he was safely locked away. He hasn’t learned to pick better company.” He stood up from the table. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. We don’t have time.”
“I think we need to make time. Tell me about this pirate. And about Dace.”
Lowell shot a look at Trey. The other man stared unseeing at the sheets on the table, his face pale and worn.
Lowell tapped his hand. Trey looked up, his expression blank. “Trey, go find Clark and help him ferry people back to the camp. Check on your people on the way. Clark can land where you need him to.”
Trey nodded without speaking and got to his feet. He crossed through the rubble and went outside.
“He isn’t going to be much good,” Querran said.
“Quite the contrary,” Lowell
said, sitting back down. “He’ll keep his people out of our way and safely in their camp.”
“What is really going on, Lowell? What mess of yours is this? What games are you playing with me and my people? And don’t you dare tell me I don’t have clearance. I want answers.”
Lowell shook his head. “I’m not playing games.”
“Then tell me,” Querran said.
“How current are your classified clearances?”
“How high, Lowell?”
“If Dace’s record didn’t give you a clue, I shouldn’t be talking to you at all.”
“That high?” Querran looked surprised. “How high before I get her real story?”
“All the way to the top,” Lowell said. “She has a knack for getting into situations.”
“She’s an agent, isn’t she? I’ve heard about your organization. You’re a legend.”
“Dace is not an agent, though I have offered that position to her several times. She keeps turning me down.”
Querran laughed, a short bark. “Someone told you no and made it stick. I never thought I’d hear you admit that.” She leaned across the table and tapped the photo. “Who is he and why is this important?”
“Have you heard of Dadilan?”
Querran’s eyes went round. “Yes. At least the official vague rumors. And some unofficial ones that would worry anyone.”
“They’re probably true. Although I doubt the drug shara will be available anymore. Dace did quite a thorough job of destroying the place where it was being made. Quite by accident.”
“She was mixed up in that? And she isn’t an agent.” Disbelief made her voice harsh.
“Believe what you will, Suella. Dysun Farr was there, too. He knows her. He could have betrayed her to Luke Verity. Dysun Farr believes she’s Patrol. We have to find her. Soon.” His eyes showed regret and pain. “I didn’t plant her here. I didn’t expect this. Clark was there to prevent something like this.”
“The whole situation is a disaster,” Querran said.
“So let’s rescue what we can. And hope we don’t have too many regrets afterwards.”
They didn’t say anything as the flitter outside lifted off. Air rushed through the room, smelling of smoke and pine.
Lowell’s com crackled. He thumbed it on.
“I think you need to come, sir,” Jukin said, his voice full of static. “The teams have pulled back. They shut blast doors in the tunnels. We found something you need to see, sir.”
Lowell shut off the com and stood. Querran stood with him, facing him across the table.
“You’re human, Lowell. You do have a heart after all.”
“I just hope it doesn’t get us all killed.” Lowell lifted the lantern off the table. “Would you mind bringing those?” He waved his hand at the sheets on the table.
Querran slid them together and picked them up as she followed Lowell from the room.
His men were gathered in a huge foyer just down the hall from the ruined dining room. A short furry creature hunched in the middle of the floor, rocking side to side and moaning.
Paltronis, a chunky woman who was deadly with her weapons or without, stood over it, her gun held loosely in one hand. The other was being bandaged by another woman, one of the medics Querran had brought. Paltronis was covered with dust and blood, most of it not her own.
“We found it in one of the lower halls,” Paltronis said, indicating the creature with her gun.
Eyes gray and featureless as pebbles looked at Lowell. “You must come now,” the creature said in a high pitched monotone. The rocking didn’t stop. “You must come now you must come now.”
“Give me the photos,” Lowell ordered Querran, holding one hand behind him, eyes fixed on the creature. Querran handed him the sheets. Lowell found one of Dace and enlarged it. He held it in front of the creature. It whined, a high pitched sound of pain.
“Do you know her?” Lowell asked.
“Must come now,” the creature said, its voice rising in pitch. The rocking became more violent. “Miya must come now.” It put thick hands over its eyes. The high pitched whine changed to a sad crooning. “Miya must come now Miya must come.”
“We’re trying to find her.” Lowell knelt in front of the creature. He tugged gently at one rubbery paw.
The creature slapped him away, knocking him across the floor. The sound of guns cocking filled the room.
“No,” Lowell said sharply, wiping blood from his chin as he sat up.
The creature watched him cross the lobby floor. “Rinth must be punished,” it said in a little voice.
“Can you take us to her?” Lowell held the picture of Dace in front of the creature.
“Gone,” Rinth whined, wrapping its arms over its head. “Miya gone. Rinth must be punished.”
“Show us,” Lowell said. “No punishment. Help us find her.”
“Luke punish.” Rinth quivered as he hunched away from Dace’s picture.
“Luke will be punished,” Lowell said. “Not Rinth.”
“Not rinth?” The creature blinked. “Rinth bad. Rinth not come. Miya not come. Luke punish rinth.”
“Where is Luke?” Lowell asked. “Rinth punish Luke.”
The creature howled. “Bad Rinth bad Rinth bad Rinth.”
“Find Miya, then. Where is she, Rinth?”
“Miya gone,” Rinth howled. “Luke gone. All gone. Rinth punished.”
“No punish, if you help us find her,” Lowell tried again.
“Find Miya.” Rinth stopped rocking, his hands still held in the air.
“Find Miya,” Lowell agreed.
Rinth’s hands twisted in an elaborate gesture. “Find Miya.” He jumped to his feet then scuttled across the room. His thick fingers pried at a section of the wall.
Lowell held up one hand. His troops lowered their guns. Querran started to speak. He impatiently waved her silent.
Rinth tore the section of wall free, tossing it to one side. A long stair crept down into the dark beyond the broken section of wall. “Find Miya.” Rinth scampered down the stairs.
“Follow him.” Lowell was the first one down the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tayvis’ hole was just that, a hollow at the base of a huge pine tree. He was more than half carrying me by the time we reached it. My feet had gone beyond numb, all the way past to screaming torture. Each breath burned. I must have cracked something during one of the falls. I quit trying to catalog the rest of my aches and pains. He eased me to the ground in the hollow. I tried not to moan while he rummaged through a pack of supplies. It was very dark. The moon had finally gotten tired of playing with the clouds and set.
“Here,” Tayvis pulled me in next to him. “You’re frozen.”
My dress was mostly dry, what was left of it, but I still shivered. Tayvis slipped out of his jacket, wrapping it around me. His arms were warm and comforting as he pulled me close, snuggling me into his lap. I rested my head on his chest, his heartbeat steady in my ear.
“What happened, Dace?” he asked. “What are you doing out here of all places?”
A sob caught in my throat. It was over. I didn’t have to pretend any more. He made me feel safe, for the first time in a long time. I wanted to forget Luke and everything he’d done. I didn’t know if I’d ever feel clean again. I was crying and couldn’t stop.
Tayvis didn’t say anything. He just pulled me closer. I cried until I couldn’t anymore. And then I fell asleep, exhausted and worn out past the point of caring.
I was choking. Luke was kissing me. I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t breathe. I tore at the hand over my mouth, fighting, still half asleep. The hand stayed. Arms held me tightly. I stopped struggling as I came fully awake. It wasn’t Luke that held me, it was Tayvis. I sagged back, relief flooding through me. Tayvis waited a moment before moving his hand away from my mouth. I took a deep breath then gagged on memories of Luke. I pulled myself up and to the side, heaving up bile. There wasn’t anything else in
my stomach.
My body finally quit rebelling. I lay over a thick root of the tree that stuck up through the soil. It was rough against my cheek. I welcomed the pain of it. Anything was better than remembering Luke’s caresses.
“Dace?” Tayvis asked. He put his hand on my back and I shuddered. He drew back.
He was not Luke, I told myself. He wouldn’t do anything like Luke had. I still didn’t want anyone touching me. I pushed myself back up, clutching his jacket around me like a shield.
“You were dreaming. You started to scream.” He said it as if he didn’t know what to expect from me. He shifted back, giving me as much room as possible in the tiny hollow under the tree.
It was getting lighter. Night was finally over. I felt worse than I ever had in my life.
“Say something,” Tayvis begged.
“Say what?” My voice was hollow, cracked and unfamiliar. I tried to swallow and found my mouth dry. I scrubbed at my face with the sleeve of his jacket. It smelled of Tayvis, nothing like Luke’s cloying cologne.
“Drink?” He held out a water bottle. “I’ve got ration bars. If you feel like eating.”
“I’m sorry, Tayvis,” I said taking the bottle from him.
“For what?”
“For telling you to go away. I didn’t know what it was like.”
I sipped the water. It tasted musty and stale from the container. It tasted wonderful. It didn’t have something nasty hidden in it. It was as different from Luke’s wines as night from day.
“You look terrible,” Tayvis said, trying for a light tone and failing. “What are you doing out here?”
“Running away.” I drank more of the water. Tayvis’ jacket was much too big around me. I huddled inside it, relishing the warmth. I rubbed my face on the sleeve again, enjoying the rough weave against my face.
“Running away from what?” Tayvis sat back, watching me.
I shifted my feet and winced. I looked like I’d run through a forest barefoot. I had run through a forest barefoot. My feet left traces of blood behind when I moved them. I blinked, wondering why it didn’t hurt more.