Manhunt on Tau Ceti 4 (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 6)

by John Bowers

  Victoria waited for him to continue, but he fell silent, his eyes narrowed in thought.

  “Were you going somewhere with that train of thought?” she asked finally.

  “Still thinking it through. Everything got quiet for about ten or twelve years, until about a year ago.”

  “What happened a year ago?”

  “The union started making noises again. It was like a dormant volcano, you know? Everything was quiet, no activity, then the damn thing started smoking, and the ground started to shake.”

  “Okay…”

  “About a year ago—maybe two—is when it started. All of a sudden the union is talking about expanding into other districts. They started holding meetings, passing out propaganda. Unionize the railroad, they said. Spread the glory, they said. Suddenly the railroad was some big, bad monster that was eating babies and drinking the working man’s blood. I never saw anything like it.”

  Victoria, watching him, saw a flash of passion that had been missing earlier. Lard Davis was angry.

  “That’s very interesting. What does any of that have to do with Nick’s investigation?”

  As if shaken out of a trance, he glanced at her in surprise, then grinned.

  “So I was right? He’s doing an investigation?”

  Shit!

  She mentally kicked herself for her carelessness, but didn’t let it show.

  “You’re advancing a theoretical scenario. My question fits the theory, nothing more.”

  He nodded, still grinning, and turned his eyes back to the road.

  “Got it. Well, to answer your question, it might not fit at all, but about six or eight months before the union began to smoke and puff, there was a fella arrived on TC 4. Kind of an odd fella. In fact, he was downright weird.”

  “You met him?”

  “Once. A few days after he got here, he hired me to do the same thing you’re doing. Explore the planet, he said. Only he was planning to settle here.”

  “Did he settle?”

  “He did. In Lago District.”

  “Where is that?”

  “Just about fifty miles up the road from where we are right now.”

  Victoria felt her heart beginning to pound, but tried not to show her excitement.

  “What does he have to do with the union?”

  “Tell you the truth, I’m not exactly sure. But a few months back, I ferried a couple of folks over to Orosi for one of those union meetings. This one was private, members only, not open to the public. But it was freezing that night, and since these folks wanted me to drive them back to Hardwood after the meeting, they let me come inside and wait. The fella I told you about, the weird one, was there. He did most of the talking that night, and Bert Carter pretty much kissed his ass.”

  “Do you remember what he said at the meeting?”

  “Not much. I listened for a while but it was pretty boring. Since it didn’t affect me, I tuned most of it out.”

  Victoria stared out the windscreen. The road had begun to climb and twist this way and that. A steam train passed them on their left, heading toward Hardwood. Victoria tried to keep her voice even as she asked the next question.

  “This weird man you’re talking about…do you know his name?”

  “Yep, sure do. Everybody around here knows it. He’s the richest man in six districts, maybe the richest on the planet.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Tinker-Smith. Ken Tinker-Smith.”

  Orosi – Tau Ceti 4

  By the time the train to Orosi arrived at the station, nearly two dozen people had collected and waited to board. The train was pulling eight cars, six for freight and two for passengers. To avoid any suspicion that they knew each other, Nick waited until Connie Ventura boarded one of the passenger cars and then got on the other. The rail car was unheated, but with the windows closed at least it wasn’t freezing inside. The breath and body heat from the passengers knocked the chill down a little. Nick settled back and tipped his hat down over his eyes, dozing fitfully to combat the weariness he felt. He was in and out of slumber, dimly aware of the train crawling out of the mountains and onto a fertile, but still sparsely populated, plain.

  The trip took a little over an hour.

  The sun was shining in Orosi, but when Nick stepped down onto the platform, the wind carried a bite. With the breeze at his back, he tugged his leather jacket a little tighter and walked out to the street.

  Like Hardwood, Orosi looked like a historical site. The architecture was centuries out of date, the vehicles were surface cars, and he saw no buildings taller than five stories. It was also several times larger than Hardwood.

  Nick wasn’t sure where he was going. He had come here on a hunch, with nothing to back it up. It was a fishing trip, nothing more, but if the union was headquartered here—and if the union had anything to do with Ken Saracen—it had to be checked out. He stood on the sidewalk a moment and looked around.

  Unlike Hardwood, the train station was located in the middle of town, with streets extending in all directions. The streets were bustling, with lots of cars and pedestrians. Nick saw four taxis lined up at the curb. He strolled toward the nearest one. The pilot, a short, slightly ragged man who looked about fifty, was leaning against his vehicle smoking a cigarette. As Nick approached, he straightened up and threw the cigarette down, stepping on it.

  “Need a ride, sir?”

  Nick nodded. “I was planning to walk for a bit, but it’s too damn cold out here.”

  “Well, hop in. I have a nice heater in the car.”

  Nick pulled the door open. He was used to clamshell doors, but this one had to be pulled open. He settled into the front seat as the pilot got in the other side.

  “Where to?” the pilot asked.

  “No place in particular. I just want to explore the town.”

  “Fair enough. Which direction shall we go first?”

  Nick shrugged, then pointed straight ahead.

  “That way.”

  The taxi eased into traffic and began to bump along the street. The ride wasn’t very comfortable, but the car didn’t appear to be built for luxury.

  “My name is Jerry. What’s yours?”

  “Nick.”

  “Nice to meet you, Nick. New in town?”

  “First time.”

  “You from Hardwood?”

  “Just got off the train from there.”

  “Nice place, Hardwood. I used to go hunting up there with my brother. You ever do much hunting?”

  “Not lately.”

  “Too bad. Lots of game in that area. Good fishing, too.”

  Nick let the man talk, offering noncommittal replies when it seemed rude not to do so. As the car proceeded for several blocks, he tried to get a feel for the town. Like Hardwood, most buildings seemed to be constructed of wood, but he also saw several made of stone and a surprising number built with brick. It was astonishing—the only brick buildings he’d seen on Terra were museums or historical sites. Brick construction had ended centuries earlier.

  When the car reached the edge of town, Jerry turned left to the next block and turned left again.

  “Any time you want to see something different,” he said, “just let me know.”

  “You’re doing fine. I have all day.”

  Jerry grinned. “I could use more fares like you.”

  He fell silent for a moment. Nick took the opportunity.

  “Are you a union man?” he asked.

  “Union? Me? Hell, no. I’m an independent operator. All the taxi pilots are. Why do you ask?”

  “No particular reason. I heard the other day that the union is wanting to expand, so I was just curious.”

  “Ah, that. I heard the same thing. I guess the union is good for some people, or at least certain kinds of work, but I’d rather be my own boss.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “What line of work are you in?”

  “I’m between gigs right now,” Nick told him. “Kind o
f footloose.”

  “Not a bad place to be, if you can afford it. What did you do before that?”

  “I’ve worked at a couple of things. What do you know about Bert Carter? Ever heard of him?”

  “Yeah, are you kidding? He’s head of the union.”

  “Is that all he does? Run the union?”

  “That’s all he needs to do. You ought to see his house.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Big place. Fancy. Must be worth a hundred thousand taus.”

  “Is it here in Orosi?”

  “You bet. You want to see it?”

  “Sure, why not.”

  At the next intersection, Jerry made a right turn and plowed through the center of Orosi for over a mile. At the south end of town, they came to an upscale neighborhood built on the only high ground in the area. Several plush, curving streets were lined with elaborate homes constructed of multi-colored brick. The lush, green lawns were wide and manicured, many decorated with fountains and exotic sculptures. A few were hidden behind high walls, but most were on display so the public could admire them.

  The taxi slowed as it approached the last house on the block. Jerry pointed.

  “That’s it. Not the biggest house in Orosi, but damn near it.”

  Nick stared at the residence with narrowed eyes. As the man said, it wasn’t the fanciest house in the universe, but for Tau Ceti 4 it looked as rich as anything he’d seen yet.

  Nick unlatched his door.

  “Do you mind waiting? I’ll only be a minute.”

  “Hey, it’s your tau. Like you, I’ve got all day.”

  The taxi stopped at the curb and Nick got out. Adjusting his hat and pulling his jacket tighter, he made his way up the curving sidewalk, past a statue and between two fountains, to the front door. He rang the bell and waited, not sure what he expected to learn, but compelled to find out. He fully expected the door to be answered by a uniformed maid or butler, but when it opened he was surprised to see an elderly matron peering out at him. She was wearing an expensive dress and a pearl necklace.

  “Can I help you?”

  Nick removed his hat and held it in both hands.

  “Sorry to bother you, Ma’am, but I’m looking for Bert Carter. I was told he lives here?”

  The woman’s pinched features tightened noticeably.

  “And you are?”

  “Nick Jones, Ma’am.”

  “What is your business with Mr. Carter?”

  “I, uh, met him at a union meeting last night. I was hoping to speak to him and get further information.”

  “I see.”

  She stood there, debating. Nick half expected her to show him in, but that didn’t happen.

  “Mr. Carter does not receive working class visitors in his home. I’m afraid you will have to go to his office.”

  Nick took on a stricken expression.

  “I’m terribly sorry, Ma’am. I didn’t mean to embarrass you in any way.”

  She lifted her chin, but didn’t reply.

  “Where would I find his office?”

  “It’s downtown somewhere. I have never been there and don’t know the address.” She gave him a final head-to-toe sweep of her gaze, then sniffed faintly. “Good day.”

  She closed the door.

  Nick walked casually back to the taxi, one word circling around in his mind.

  Wow!

  He got into the taxi and closed the door. The pilot grinned at him.

  “That didn’t take long.”

  “No, it didn’t.”

  “Where to now?”

  “Let’s head downtown. Do you know where Bert Carter’s office is?”

  “Not for sure, but I think I know the building.”

  “Close enough. Get me within a hundred yards and I’ll find it.”

  Jerry chuckled and pulled away from the curb. The streets here were contoured and it took several minutes to find their way out of the neighborhood.

  “So,” Jerry ventured, “you planning to join the union?”

  “No. I just want to learn a little more about it.”

  “Seems kind of odd, since you’re unemployed.”

  Nick didn’t reply. They had just turned onto a wide street with the town spread out below them. As they approached an intersection, another surface car wheeled around the corner directly in their path, screeching to a halt. Before either of them could react, three men leaped out of the other car and approached with menace in their eyes. One was carrying a gun, the other two carried small clubs.

  “What the hell is this about?” Jerry muttered with widening eyes.

  Nick felt his pulse race, but tried to remain calm.

  “Stay here. I think I know these guys.”

  He stepped out of the car before the three men arrived and held both hands out to his sides.

  “Take it easy, fellows. I’m the one you want. He’s just a taxi pilot.”

  Two of them advanced on Nick, the man with the gun approached the pilot’s door. Jerry raised both hands and waited to see if he was about to be murdered. The two men coming toward Nick were on him before he could draw his weapons.

  “Are you Nick Jones?” The man asking the question had a thick beard and wore ridiculous bowler hat. The other was pale and pudgy.

  “That’s right. And like I said, the guy in the car is just a taxi—”

  He doubled over as the pudgy man drove a fist into his gut.

  “Shut the fuck up!” the bearded man said. “You just made your last mistake.”

  Chapter 16

  Nick Walker stood in the middle of the street with his arms extended and regarded the three assailants. Two of them were right in his face.

  “What happens now?” he asked. “You planning to commit murder in broad daylight?”

  “Shut up!” the bearded man repeated. “What we plan to do is none of your business.”

  “If it involves a bullet in my head, then I disagree. What do you jokers want?”

  The bearded man reacted almost as if he’d been slapped. Nick took note.

  “Why were you harassing Mr. Carter’s mother?” the pale one demanded. “You want to talk to Mr. Carter, then you come and see him. Don’t be threatening his mother.”

  “Threatening her?” Nick laughed in consternation. “I was a perfect gentleman.”

  The pale man drove another fist into his gut, doubling him over. He coughed and wheezed to get his wind back, then straightened up slowly.

  “You know—” He coughed. “—if you want to fight, then I’m up for it. But you might need help—there’s only three of you.”

  “Oh, ha-ha. I haven’t heard that one since the Twentieth Century.”

  His eyes watering, Nick forced a grin. “I thought you looked a little old for your age.”

  The pale man drew back his fist again, but never got the chance to use it. He had stepped between Nick and the bearded man; Nick rushed him, driving him into his friend, slamming them both against the car. All three fell to the street in a tangle; Nick slugged the bearded man in the face; then, with the pale guy halfway pinned beneath him, slugged him as well.

  The third man, standing by the pilot’s door with a pistol, tried to draw a bead on Nick but couldn’t see him over the engine compartment. He ran around the front of the car, shouting.

  “Hey! Hey! Hey! HEY!”

  Just as he got into position for a clear shot, he found himself staring down the tunnel of Nick’s .44 Magnum.

  “Freeze! Drop your weapon and get down on your face. NOW!!”

  The gunman stared at him with startled eyes. He debated for a moment, but the hole in the .44 looked like a drainpipe. With some reluctance, he laid his pistol on the ground.

  “Get on the ground and don’t move.”

  Nick pushed himself to his feet and, trembling slightly, took a step back, keeping his assailants covered with the .44. After the third man was face-down on the street, Nick pulled the pale man to his feet, shoved him forward, and ordered him to lie
on his face as well. He did the same with the bearded man. He stood over the trio for a moment, panting. The panting surprised him—he really needed to get back in shape.

  He picked up the gunman’s weapon, then glanced back at the taxi and got Jerry’s attention.

  “Pull around next to their car,” he said. “And wait for me.”

  Looking shaken, Jerry nodded and backed the car up a few feet, then moved it alongside the other vehicle. Nick bent over the men and, one at a time, pulled their wallets free. He removed their ID cards and slipped them into his pocket.

  “Sit up,” he said. “Take off your shoes.”

  “What for?”

  “Because I have the gun.”

  With angry, sullen expressions, all three men obeyed. Nick took their shoes and tossed them toward the taxi.

  “Now your clothes.”

  “What!” The bearded man looked startled.

  “You heard me. I could just shoot all three of you right where you sit, but it’s a nice clean street and I don’t want to get it bloody, so take off your clothes, right down to the skin. You have five seconds.”

  “It’s fucking freezing out here!”

  “Four seconds!”

  They stared at him in disbelief, as if his request was so outrageous that he might come to his senses and change his mind.

  “Three seconds!”

  “Oh, fuck y—”

  BOOOOOM!

  The .44 roared like a cannon as Nick fired a round into the air. All three men jumped in shock and quickly began tugging off their pants and shirts. When they were down to their shorts, Nick waved the .44 at them.

  “Keep going. Everything.”

  Glaring at him, they stripped off their underwear as well.

  “Keep the socks,” Nick said.

  He tossed them their wallets, then gathered the pile of clothing and picked up their shoes.

  “I’m going to see your boss now, so I’ll tell him hello for you. You boys have a nice walk back.”