by M. D. Cooper
Reece relaxed when she caught sight of Trey inside the car, but Nizhoni stiffened.
“He’s okay,” Reece assured her. “He’s my partner.”
Nizhoni eyed Reece but said nothing as the autotaxi pulled up, stopped, and Trey stepped out.
“You’re late,” Reece told him. “I already fixed the place.”
“All by yourself?” Trey looked unconvinced.
“Well, she did most of it. Meet Nizhoni.” To Nizhoni, she said, “This is Trey. He’s a good guy. I didn’t think so at first, but he is.”
Nizhoni’s gaze took Trey in from head to toe, then she flicked her gaze to Reece. “Like I need your life story.”
Tension made Reece feel edgy as she waited to see how Nizhoni would react to Trey. She’d known him long enough that she’d begun to tire of this repetition—every new person was the same stupid showdown. Either a person practiced tolerance, reserved opinion for later, or objected to Trey’s very existence. There was no predicting a person’s reaction, and if Reece was already tired of it, she wondered how sick of it Trey must be.
Nizhoni lifted her chin. “Fine. Fuck with my whiskey, though, and I’ll kill you both.”
She glared at them, then turned and marched into her building, the pair following after. The relief from the heat was immediate, and Reece’s sweat cooled against her skin in a not-unpleasant way.
Trey raised his eyebrows at Reece as they followed a few paces behind.
Reece didn’t look at him. Instead, she took in every detail, from the walls that were faced with what seemed to be stone, to the long wooden tables that certainly were not genuine, considering the fire hazard they’d present.
Reece was surprised when Nizhoni led them down a long, straight flight of stairs. They also appeared to be stone, a little worn from years of use.
Reece answered,
Trey smirked.
The stairs led them down a good ten meters to a large space, and Reece realized why the place had seemed small from the outside. All the barrels, and much of the distillation equipment were kept below ground. Rows and rows of neatly aligned barrels stretched as far as she could see.
She was only half joking.
Trey snorted.
Nizhoni spun around at the sound. “What was that?”
Trey grimaced apologetically. “Sinuses. Sorry.”
Nizhoni eyed him as though he was something she’d found on the bottom of her shoe, which made Reece feel better. She’d have been bummed if Nizhoni had liked him more.
“You can look around,” Nizhoni said. “Don’t touch anything. Anything. You do so much as put one finger on one of my barrels and I’ll stuff you both into one of them and no one will find your bodies.”
Reece said to Trey.
Reece clasped her hands behind her back as she gazed at the racks of barrels. She risked Nizhoni’s wrath just once, bending to sniff at the stoppered opening.
Trey’s lips pursed.
He shook his head.
She decided to ignore him. He was harshing her buzz, and she wanted to bask in this feeling that was like coming home. Or, perhaps, returning to the womb.
She quite liked imagining herself floating around, in a fetal position, soaking in a warm pool of whiskey.
Trey broke into her thoughts.
Reece schooled her expression, her moment of bliss having been shattered. Instead of responding, she shot Trey a dirty look.
Nizhoni doubled back to find them. “Everything’s okay. Now, I need to find someone to fix the damage.”
Back to work. Reece squared her shoulders. “Before you do, would you mind answering some questions about what happened?”
Nizhoni crossed her arms. “What do you want to know?”
Reece had thought they’d go someplace where they could sit down, but okay. “What happened?”
“One of my stills down here blew up.”
“Is that common?” Reece asked.
“Not common. Not uncommon. Occupational hazard that can happen if a gasket fails. I’m guessing that’s what happened.”
“That can blow out a wall?” Trey asked, surprised.
“Not usually.” Nizhoni scratched at her right earlobe. To Reece, the gesture looked more like a nervous habit than the result of an itch. “But this was my biggest still, used for my lowest-end variety. Fifteen hundred liters of hooch under the highest pressure of the distilling process can make a pretty good bang.”
“Did you lose a lot of equipment?” Reece asked.
“I lost that still, obviously. Not repairable. The still next to it probably isn’t either, but it wasn’t in use at the time, so at least I didn’t lose the whiskey. It could have been worse.”
“How often does this happen?” Trey asked.
“To me? Never. I’d been lucky until today, but nobody’s lucky forever.”
“Would you mind if I document the damage while you make repair calls?” Reece asked.
Nizhoni sighed. “Fine. Just don’t touch anything. There’s a lot of jagged metal, and you could make the damage worse.”
At first, Reece had thought Nizhoni had been concerned about Reece and Trey being injured. But no. Of course not. That had been silly.
She nodded, though. “No touching. We promise.”
Nizhoni’s face scrunched up from her eyes down to her mouth, in an expression that said that their promises meant nothing to her. She pointed meaningfully to a barrel, then at each of them, before leaving.
They walked to the still in question, a once massive vat of glorious whiskey that was now just a mass of twisted metal and pipes.
Trey’s augments made his documentation of the damages of greater value than Reece’s because he would get visual readings of temperatures and exact measurements. Nonetheless, Reece thoroughly documented everything in the vicinity as well.
“Now what?” Trey asked.
“I guess we’re done here. We asked questions, we got the evidence. Not much else to be done.”
“You want to stay, don’t you?”
“No,” she denied. “Why would I? I can buy H&P whiskey whenever I want—I have a bottle of it at home, even. And that woman is wildly hostile.”
“Yeah, I like her, too,” he admitted.
She laughed. “Let’s go.”
When they arrived up on the main floor, they found Nizhoni angrily yelling filthy things at a handheld Link device. Apparently, she couldn’t afford overlays. A little surprising, considering how popular her whiskey was.
While they waited for her to be free, they wandered a bit around the main floor. The building opened into a small receiving area, with a meeting room to the far side. There was a small, deserted tasting bar, and when she wandered further, Reece found an office and a hallway that appeared to lead to a personal living space.
Nizhoni lived here. Interesting. Reece would need to run a background check on her later.
Reece agreed,
“I don’t just let people wander around here.” Nizhoni stood, her arms crossed.
“Do you have somethi
ng to hide?” Reece asked.
“Just my right to privacy,” Nizhoni answered. “This isn’t just my business, it’s my home.”
“Don’t you have employees?” Trey asked.
“Of course. I have ten. Check my tax records if you want. Most are part-timers, as my need for them varies by season. Two will arrive in an hour to begin harvesting barley. You can wait for them if you want.”
“Not necessary,” Reece assured her. “I guess we just showed up at an unusual time.”
Nizhoni shrugged. “With full sun all day long, what do days and nights matter? You and I live in different worlds.”
Reece felt that was a somehow revealing statement. “Do we?”
“We have a saying in the agricultural sectors. ‘City people live by the clock. Agriculture lives by the crop.’ For us, the growing and the work is what matters. Not what time it is.”
“That makes sense,” Reece admitted. “I’m sorry if we upset you.”
Nizhoni shook her head. “Nothing’s upsetting me except that still blowup. But I’ve got it handled. Farmers are hardier than you city types.”
“I seem to remember being out there with you, sweating it out to put that generator up,” Reece observed drily. “But I take your point.”
She offered Nizhoni a physical card. If the woman used a device for the Link, it seemed like the best option. “You can contact me if anything comes up.”
“Like what?” Nizhoni asked with a challenge in her voice.
“Evidence of sabotage. Proof of your still supplier’s malfeasance. A bulk deal on multiple cases of H&P’s best.”
For the first time, Reece saw Nizhoni smile.
It wasn’t a big smile. More like a quirk of her lip muscles. But Reece saw it.
“Fine,” Nizhoni agreed. “But if you need anything else, contact the business via the Link. I don’t like unexpected visitors.”
Outside, at Trey’s autotaxi, Reece looked back at the distiller’s closed doors. “She seems oddly secretive.”
“Does she?” Trey asked. “Do you know a lot of people in the agriculture sectors?”
“Well, no,” she admitted.
“Maybe this is normal for them. Reclusive. Protective. It would make sense, right?”
“You have a point.” She frowned at him, but secretly, she was pleased at how objective and logical he was being. He was starting to get the hang of this kind of work.
“Any idea why Rexcare would have any involvement in a distillery?” he asked. “They focus on the medical industry, right?”
She gave him a severe look. “Don’t tell me whiskey isn’t medicinal.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m serious.”
“Yeah, okay. My guess is that the barley might have shown some latent potential for pharmaceuticals, so they optioned part of the yearly crop just in case. Maybe it’s an outdated agreement based on research that never panned out, and they just haven’t gotten around to nullifying the contract. That kind of thing happens for minor investments like this.”
“Makes sense. We should investigate that when we get back,” he said.
“It’s already on my to-do list, though one would wonder why Schramm wouldn’t make sure it was worth our while, first.”
“Maybe he’s just covering his bases. Want to ride back together?” he asked. “We could just dismiss your car.”
“Nah. I want to catch a nap on the way back, and you’ll just talk and talk.”
“How can you sleep in a car, with all the turning and stuff?” he asked.
“You mean you can’t?” She found few places as comfortingly lulling at an autotaxi. “Just tint the windows. It’ll get dark as night.”
“It’s not that,” he said. “It’s the sense of motion.”
“Huh. No, it puts me right to sleep. Though I can sleep just about anywhere. It’s kind of my superpower.”
“I thought drinking a lot and not getting drunk was your superpower,” he said.
“I have more than one. I’ll see you back in town. Want to come to my house for dinner? We can compare notes on what we turn up.”
“Sure. Can I bring Dex?”
She hesitated. “Think you can leave him at your place? Rio was still upset this morning.”
“I guess,” Trey answered reluctantly. “He gets lonely. Why is a wirecat so afraid of a tiny monkey?”
Reece shrugged. “Rio’s temperamental. Anyway, I’ll see you this evening.” She named a time, and Nizhoni’s words about city people living by the clock came back to her.
Trey waved and got into his autotaxi. Back at her own vehicle, she grabbed her jacket and got inside.
She tinted the windows and within minutes, fell asleep, dreaming of swimming inside whiskey barrels.
NO ACCIDENT
DATE: 05.03.8948 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Ohiyo, Akonwara
REGION: Machete System, PED 4B, Orion Freedom Alliance
By the time Trey arrived at her house, Reece had transmitted all her information to Schramm, done a deeper investigation into Nizhoni, and further studied the process of whiskey production. She also took a nap, since she’d only gotten half a night’s sleep, plus the nap on the way from H&P to the metro.
Rather than stepping in when she gestured, he shook his head. “We need to go back to H&P. Right now.”
“What? Why?”
“I researched whiskey distilling and cross-referenced that information against the images and data I gathered when I was there. It’s impossible for the natural process to create the temperature required to melt the metal to the degree that it did.”
Reece frowned. “Do you think Nizhoni’s doing something underhanded?”
“No. I think she was deliberately attacked. I sent her a message, but we should go.”
Reece took a last, deep breath of Aunt Ruth’s homemade ravioli in cream sauce. “Damn. Okay, let me grab my stuff.”
Five minutes later, they were in a taxi to the metro.
When they arrived on Nizhoni’s doorstep, the whiskey maven showed no signs of being pleased.
“Son of a piffling zinko dong!” she yelled.
Trey shot Reece a covert look of puzzlement, but she could only shrug helplessly.
“What do you two want?” Nizhoni demanded.
“Your malfunction wasn’t a malfunction,” Trey said. “I need to get down to your basement immediately, if you don’t want more bombs going off.”
Nizhoni froze, undecided. “Bombs?”
“More or less. Seriously, I’m amazed nothing has happened yet. Either let me down there, or we’re leaving you to blow up on your own.” Trey’s posture remained unthreatening, but his tone was grave.
“Well…go, then!” Nizhoni cried, gesturing toward the stairwell.
Reece watched Trey bolt ahead of her at superhuman speed. She’d never seen him move like that. She hurried along in his wake, making it into the distillery before Nizhoni. Trey was already checking the other stills. He went from one to the next in seconds, quickly assessing all the stills.
“This one,” Trey called to Nizhoni. “Turn it off.”
Nizhoni hurried to the master control panel without argument. “There. It’s off.”
“Good. It won’t get too hot then. We can change it out and save the batch if you have a new heat mechanism. This one’s calibrated wrong. It would have gotten too hot and evaporated too much volatile gas.”
Nizhoni looked uncertain. “That wouldn’t cause an explosion.”
“No, but a device has been added to create a spark, and that will. First, let’s do the repairs. Then we can talk.”
Twenty tense minutes later, Trey assured them that all was well.
“No more explosions here today,” he promised.
“Do you have any ideas on who might have done this?” Reece asked Nizhoni. “Personal enemies, profes
sional ones, disgruntled buyers?”
Nizhoni looked stunned, leaning back against a rack of barrels. “No, none of that. I treat my employees well. They’ve all been with me for years.”
Reece sympathized with her. Having an employee turn on you had to be a terrible feeling. “But someone had to have access to set up the chain reaction. So maybe one of your employees has been blackmailed into doing it?”
Nizhoni shook her head slowly, as if clearing her thoughts. She took a breath and lifted her chin. “It would have to be an employee. I don’t let people down here.”
“Yeah, we got that feeling,” Trey said.
“But I don’t know who it could have been. I trusted them. Obviously.”
“We can start there,” Reece said. “We’ll see who might have a motive. Are there any employees here now?”
“No. The harvesters left a few hours ago. Another will show up in about an hour to oversee some bottling.”
“Tell them not to come. Don’t have any of them here until we’ve cleared them.”
“Will that make them suspicious?” Trey asked.
Nizhoni shrugged. “Who cares if it does?”
Reece nodded in agreement.
Trey tilted his head suddenly. “Hang on. You said no one else should be here?”
“No one,” Nizhoni confirmed.
“Well someone is most definitely here. You should stay down here. Reece?”
She activated her overlays to prepare for nonverbal communication via the Link, in case they needed it. “Ready. You lead.”
“Why me?” he asked.
“You’re big and make a good shield. Let’s go.”
She reached for her Rikulf Specials, then checked that impulse. No. A pulse pistol was a better plan, so the trespasser could be questioned.
Trey went up the stairs swiftly, but not so fast that Reece couldn’t stay on his heels. He kept turning his head slightly, listening. She wondered how much he could discern about the situation.
As much as she didn’t care for hanging back, it would be stupid not to let him take the lead on this one.