by Kacey Ezell
The town itself was of little interest, set up primarily for Cemara to host deals for non-amphibious species. This part of the planet had more ponds and swamps for relaxation and rejuvenation, and they’d been able to confirm former Governor Kelket had retired to her fourth home here for the latter.
It was even odds she would respond to their pinpeck inquiry, so, to maximize their chances, Flame was to scout her security and get inside if possible—former Governors had a sliding scale of protection, depending on individual, species, and personal wealth which might make that difficult—and decide whether to leave a note, find Kelket’s personal contact code, or have a spontaneous conversation.
Tamir was against the last option, but Flame kept it tucked in her vest, just in case. Sometimes efficiency won out, and recordings existed, so Tamir could still hear the same things she did. Granted, Tamir had mentioned three separate times that such an endeavor might end with Flame carving the retired Governor into bite-sized souvenirs out of frustration, but Flame was sure the Governor would know something and be savvy enough not to enrage her—the Cemarap had been friends with other Hunters, after all.
Flame could have finagled transport, but Kelket’s retirement ponds weren’t far from the town, and after so long on ships and stations, moving in real gravity across real terrain made for an invigorating change. The thick air was saltier than Khatash’s humid jungles, and this region’s trees were short, spindly things compared to the endless stretches of her home. But for the moment at least, she would enjoy feeling the give of road and twining scents of more than bodies.
After the thrill of the unbound run, Kelket’s security was a complete disappointment. Automated, with only two Cemara guards. Not even other species to make her work across various senses and strengths. She sighed, sulking a bit through the routine of splicing wires to make a gap, climbing the gate, invisibly parading past both guards—after following each of them on a round to see if there were any surprises—and jumping from each wall irregularity to the next to reach the roof. She paused for the view, distracting herself from her disapproval of how easy it had been. Tamir would be relieved, but Flame itched for a challenge, and this barely-secure compound obviously refused to provide one. The surroundings were nice, at least.
Benabat had three moons, one close enough to reflect a fair amount of light, one halfway to escaping its planet’s pull and hurtling off into nothingness, and a third which left a faint crescent tear to the west of the other two. Each was a subtly different shade of gray. The orbiting station sparkled, and the occasional trail of a ship’s drive closing in or breaking away was soothing in its way.
Closer to her, this part of Benabat stretched relatively flat, with curling trees dotting the landscape between the glittering purple-blue of the ponds and purple-green of the marshes that claimed more space than did the dirt. Mostly solid land served to connect pond to pond, or emerge from a marshy canal before being swallowed by another expanse of water. The Cemara home planet had been similar once, more wet than dry, but civilization brought changes to them all, and the Cemara had the profits to find a backup planet when their own had been wrung too dry.
In her immediate area, the roof angled and swooped in fanciful shapes. Walled off in the center of the marsh, a bright indigo pond stood slightly elevated from the darker water, with tree-high columns draped in gauzy covering. Dim lights studded the water and land mixed beyond the roof, allowing a line of sight for the guards without disrupting the night. The air carried the loamy scent of wet earth, with a sharp plant-like seasoning. The salt of the marsh and the bright copper of the pond mixed together in the moist breeze, and at least two different creatures had perched on this roof ahead of her this evening. A pleasant, if humid mix, and she closed her eyes for a moment to lean into the wind. Nothing that she could hear moved nearby, and she opened her eyes.
Flame hoped the Governor had retired inside the building, which would provide more challenge to get into than the pond, but she had a suspicion the Cemarap would sleep floating in her retirement pond. Why else go to the trouble of having an elevated, purified pond in the first place?
She made her way off the roof in much the same way she’d reached it, admiring the shine of the polished stone docking that transitioned the structure to the marsh. Invisibility wouldn’t keep her from disturbing the water, so she stalked up and down the edge to determine the best path, finding a path of cleverly set rocks adjusted to just brush the top of the water. Invisible in their own way, which she could appreciate.
The sun hadn’t yet lightened the horizon, so she took her time, moving on all fours and placing each paw perfectly to minimize disturbance. She was pleased to see the wall around the pond had another layer of protection, the faintest thrum of electronics telling her sensors had been placed all throughout. Weight, heat, life signs, no way to tell which from the noise of it, so she paused on the last stone of the path. Directly in front of her, the rounded wall was seamed, indicating it opened in waking hours. Given the marsh had its own creatures, it seemed unlikely there would be sensors in the swampy ground, so she went into the water after all, circling slowly around the raised pond. The wall had been built too high for her to see inside easily, but the brightness of Cemara scent told her Kelket was sleeping inside. Or she let other Cemara float in her pond, which was possible.
She could slip back to the house and prowl inside there, but that wouldn’t leave her much time to come back out and break through if needed, so she committed to circumventing the sensors. It provided some amusement, finding the power source, splicing in to program a skip, and then timing her leap with the guttering of power.
Old standards remained for this long because they were so often successful. She paused at the top of the wall, looking for a solid surface to jump to rather than dropping into the water and potentially landing on governor-cytoplasm. There was mostly open water below her, with a small path across the way where the wall opened. Flame bolted, counting down the quarter seconds before the sensors locked back in. She was still short as the time dropped, so she bunched up for speed and threw herself into a long, low leap.
Three feet landed solidly on the landing, one just glancing the top of the water. The light splash was swallowed in the ambient noise of the night, but enough to hold her still for long moments to listen. No alarms built into the landing, which was short-sighted but on par with the light security in place. The water rippled behind her, receding from the long shape of a Cemara floating to the surface, cilia languid but moving.
Interested, Flame turned to watch, leaning closer. That slight disturbance of her trailing leg had been enough to rouse the Governor, though she didn’t seem particularly alert or alarmed. Leaning back into a comfortable sit, Flame watched the cilia snake around, testing the area. Though tempted to bat the water and set them waving again, the Hunter watched until they slowed to bare motion, then sank under the water with the wider bulk of Kelket’s body.
Tamir had better be grateful she restrained herself, she thought. It would have been so easy to strike up a casual conversation.
The Governor might not have found it so casual, given it would have meant yanking her the rest of the way out of her sleep cycle, but that would have been amusing, too. Waiting was the sensible, but disappointing, choice. She pushed away the resulting resignation and twisted around to open her bag. Flame pulled out the thin film that would become a temporary screen. She considered for a moment, composed a note, and sent it from her wristpad to the film. When the sensors’ hum faded again, she pressed the film to the wall and stepped back to gauge the level. This should catch Kelket’s visual spectrum when she woke up in the morning, though Flame rather wished she could make it blink or glow.
Highly motivated pinpeck buyer. Peacemaker compliments. Please return message at earliest ability.
Straightforward, related back to their innocuous query sent before they’d landed, and its appearance should cause enough upset that the Governor acted sooner rather than l
ater.
And if not, well, Flame could just come back in again, and Tamir would have to miss out on the conversation. Worse things could happen.
* * *
Their comm rang out a series of notes, calling their attention to a live connection request rather than a delivered message, and Flame toasted Tamir with the remains of her breakfast.
“What do I win?” Tamir asked, accepting the connection as voice only. They’d wagered on the timing for the Governor’s contact, and Tamir had it almost to the minute. “Dimintina here.”
“This is Kelket, Dimintina.”
Flame pricked her ears forward, impressed. She’d expected an aide, not the former Governor herself to call.
“Governor Kelket,” Tamir said, warming her tone significantly. “What an unexpected joy, receiving your attention so early in the day.”
“Retired, Dimintina. Just a humble pinpeck trader now.” The voice box Cemara used translated cilia motion and slight color changes to convey tone, and though nuance was still lost, the former Governor’s tone sounded dry enough to empty her private marsh.
“And why we are so very honored to talk with you. Our business is of a highly profitable nature, Trader Kelket, and we should greatly value the ability to speak with you directly.” Tamir’s voice had never sounded so bright or cheery, and Flame tilted her head, observing this fascinating shift in her partner.
“You have come all this way.” Wry now, and Flame thought she might like the former Governor, at least a little. “I’ll send over directions and make time for an hour from now. Do you think you can find your way?”
Flame’s chuff of amusement was too low for the comms to pick up, but Tamir shot her a look anyway. She rotated her ears toward the Human, all innocence, and jumped down from her chair to get ready.
“I’m sure your directions will be clear and easy to follow, Trader Kelket. Thank you so much, and we look so forward to seeing you shortly.”
“Very well.” The comm system beeped for the ended connection, and Tamir scrolled for a moment until the packet with directions arrived.
“She seems fun,” Tamir said, standing and picking up her bag to drape over her midsection. “How do you think she’ll take a Human arrival when she expected a Cochkala?”
“She didn’t ask for any identification beyond the ship’s name,” Flame answered with a shrug before disappearing into her field. “Maybe she won’t even notice.”
* * *
She noticed. The Governor’s cilia fluttered, a faint pink tinging through her upper region, though both eased after a moment. To her credit, Tamir showed an equal measure of surprise at being greeted by the Governor herself, rather than one of her aides.
“Welcome,” Kelket said, scooting back from the gate. “Please come inside.”
Flame paced between Human and Cemara, not needing to range ahead or lag behind because she’d already explored and could instead focus her curiosity toward where the Governor would take them.
Cemara could move across solid ground, but as benefited her age and ailing health, Kelket rode on a small wheeled platform that cupped her rounded form and kept her moving at a fast Human-walk pace. Multiple locks clicked behind the arched door as they neared it at the end of the path, and Flame gave herself a moment to mourn not taking the opportunity to sneak inside.
The interior of Kelket’s dry dock consisted of an open room with a soaring, angled ceiling and a wall of windows looking out to the marsh across the way. Last night, the windows had been covered with stone indistinguishable from the rest of the structure. Flame cocked her head, surprised she’d missed it. Security overall was still lax, but it had some interesting wrinkles she’d missed. Marks for creativity.
Kelket turned them to the left, where the curve of the building took them to another multi-lock door. The room inside was bright, though windowless, comfortably full of various loungers for equally varied species. Around them, the air held an odd emptiness, missing something Flame couldn’t identify. She turned her head at different angles, unsure what she was listening for, and stayed close to Tamir only with effort. She would have much preferred to paw at the walls and furnishings, and figure out what was missing around them.
“This is my private study,” Kelket said, with a complicated wave of her right-side cilia that cycled the door closed behind them. “Recordings don’t work, so you can be assured of privacy, though I’m afraid you will not be able to record your own notes, either.”
Dampeners then, Flame realized, of a quality she’d never experienced—it flattened the flow of air around them. Governors handled sensitive business, certainly, but it piqued her interest all the same.
“I appreciate your—”
“Please, sit.” Kelket leaned forward, waving her top cilia, and as soon as Tamir’s bottom touched her chosen chair, she added, “How did you get into my pond?”
“I worked for Peacemaker Hrusha,” Tamir said instead of answering the question. “I have questions that I didn’t trust to messaging, no matter how well encrypted.”
“Ah.” Kelket sat back, cilia slowing to a gentle wave. “You’re Tamir Alcuin. Diaden told me you were helping with the investigation.”
“I hadn’t realized you had retired, at the time.”
“It’s not a swift process, stepping down off-cycle. Concerns about my health helped move it forward, but I didn’t want the investigation into my friend’s death held up by my transition, so I waited to announce. Rather too late for some, I suppose. Diaden said you left suddenly.”
“Cemara are not the only species who think Humans are abrupt.” Tamir filled her voice with deference, and Flame thought it was working; Kelket appeared to accept the non-excuse. “Did he come to any conclusions?”
“Regrettably, it turned out to be exactly as it appeared. I thought I had grown to understand the Depik rather well, as well as one can from outside their kind, but I confess I still can’t imagine a motive for Hrusha’s successor to kill her.”
“Did you know her successor?” Tamir asked. “Reow, yes?”
“No—outside of Peacemaker and Governor, I have yet to find a Depik who cultivates many relationships off of Khatash. She was relatively young; I remember Hrusha mentioning that. Liked Humans, maybe had one for a pet?”
Tamir stiffened slightly, and Flame resisted brushing against her in reassurance. Susa was hardly a pet in the way Kelket implied, and Flame wished she was here in this room to discuss her status as a sigiled member of the clan.
“Perhaps that’s why Peacemaker Hrusha looked forward to Reow taking on the contract, given the Humans she employed?”
Kelket flapped her cilia forward and back in a shrug, offering no opinion on it either way.
“You were very good friends with Hrusha, Governor Kelket, from what I understand. How did that come about?”
“The investigation is closed, Tamir Alcuin. What purpose, or whose purpose, are you serving here?”
“As I’m sure you know, Governor, I worked for Hrusha for nearly my entire time with the Peacemaker’s office. My last charge is a report to provide to her replacement, whoever that might be, which will be my case for continued employment. Even though you are now retired, you will be a potential great resource to the incoming Depik Peacemaker, and I thought, given your relationship with Hrusha, you would want to ensure a strong start for her replacement.”
“Loyalty,” Kelket mused, a slight purple tinging her body, her tone indicating she found Tamir adorable. “Very well. Hrusha had a fondness for pinpecks, which I believe she developed through her relationship with my old friend Sissisk, the Depik Governor. Oh, former I must say of her too. Still getting used to that. I provided Sissisk with pinpecks from my favorite farm, and met Hrusha through her.”
“Did you have much in common?” Tamir sounded genuinely interested, as though it were a spontaneous and not purposeful question. Flame doubted Kelket would be fooled—the thought that Hrusha would have such an easily distracted bounty hunter on staff
was laughable—but it served to continue building rapport.
“You don’t see the connection between a Cemarap and a Depik?” Kelket’s voicebox issued a laugh, her cilia rippling. “We tend to love games and winning them. It’s not only mercenary species who compete.” Her tone might as well have added ‘little Human,’ and Tamir stiffened again.
“Games?” she asked, forcing herself to loosen at the joints again. Flame admired her self-control, but wished it weren’t so visible.
“Oh, yes, we wagered on everything. Projecting the profits on pinpecks, mercenary companies, and bounty hunter contracts. When our colleagues would retire or be called home.” All her cilia drooped. “That one seems less fun now.”
“Who won?”
“Here and there, we both did. What Depik would continue to play if it were always easy wins? I did much better on the pinpecks of course—shamelessly using my inside knowledge. I used to win almost half the time on the bounty hunters, but I don’t think Hrusha paid much attention to most of them. Mercenary contracts—those I could never win against her. She liked you Humans, but usually bet against their companies, except when they won out on a big contract. How she got so good at that, I’ll just never know.” A long pause. “Oh, and isn’t that truer than it ever was.”
“I am sorry to make you miss your friend, Governor.”
Kelket dismissed it with a long wave of cilia, leaning back as though growing tired.
“Just a few more questions, I know you need your rest. Did you spend much time with Peacemaker Hrusha, near the—more recently?”
“Not as much. My health was already failing, and I didn’t travel as much. She mentioned Sissisk was considering retiring, and so I spent more time with her, given my own looming transition. Sissisk never mentioned it, of course, but I showered her with pinpecks all the same.”