Prisoner of Earthside: A Novella (STRYDER'S HORIZON Book 2)

by Daniel J. Kirk

  The Dessup never begged. They just antagonized me more.

  This clerk begged and promised and finally agreed.

  In the end Alice looked scared.

  I had to tell her to put her shirt back on.

  6. WITH THE LIGHTS OFF

  “You’ll have to teach me that move one day,” Alice said as we marched back up the Templar’s Stairs.

  “That would be like telling you how to beat me on Gregor’s track.”

  “You know as soon as I get my ride back in shape you and Old Shepard will be sucking my dust, right?”

  I shrugged and earned one of Alice’s trademark scoffs.

  The clerk had set us up with a client. He knew of three visiting Colonial Officers. Three that would likely have dealings in Earthside related to Thom Crisp.

  The clerk said one was really stressed. His name was Grand Officer Nehalem. He was all too delighted when the clerk displayed us to him.

  “What’s the plan, or are you going to surprise me with another one of your talents?” Alice asked as we boarded the lift.

  “You know me, I only turn when I see the curve.”

  “Tell me you have a plan.”

  I nodded.

  The lift gave a pleasant chime and the doors opened. We reached our destination. The room we stepped into was dark. Only the light from the lift gave us a lay of the room. It was large and long, with two couches facing each other, vases of non-native plants on every floating end table. Midway down the long couches it went dark again, and then a soft blue glow from the window began to illuminate the rest of couches and room.

  “Hello?” I called.

  There was no response. I wondered if this Grand Officer Nehalem had a specific preference for how the night was going to play out. We kept walking deeper into the room. The lift closed behind us and plunged us into darkness briefly. The large blue window was the only source now. Something felt wrong. Alice had the same feeling. We were ready for anything and still not sure what we should be ready for.

  Somewhere in the darkness, something was knocked and crashed against the ground. Whatever it was it didn’t break. But there was only a second to start guessing what it could’ve been. There was a rush, something moving fast. The lift shot open again. A silhouetted figure dove inside.

  The lift door closed just as the figure turned to face us. We both recognized him. It was the teenager who had hounded us earlier. His eyes were beady, full of venom. The lift took him away, leaving us in darkness again.

  “Stay here, watch my back,” I said. “I’m going to have a look around.”

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Alice said.

  I crept through the room, finding the hallway that had been home to the sound of the fallen object. I didn’t have to walk far. I stepped right into it. It was soft and damp.

  It was Grand Officer Nehalem. Dead.

  Blood covered his forehead and the floor. He had a surprised look on his face and was still in his Colonial uniform. The top of his head was where someone struck him hard. His body was cool to the touch. He’d been dead for a little while. But he must’ve been alive three hours ago when the clerk scheduled the rendezvous.

  I tried to think it all out in the darkness. I needed some grasp of it all before Alice knew what was going on and wanted to riddle my brain with too many questions and ideas.

  The teenager we met on the streets did resemble the dead man. So I felt safe assuming he was indeed the father the teen was referring to. He also gave us a dose of a conspiracy story: Thom Crisp was a traitor.

  It was probable. The Red Empress never returned any one alive and the chances of escaping and traveling a galaxy to get home were just as unlikely. Nehalem believed this and now he was dead. His teenage son was on the run, likely with no one to trust. I had assumed he was a native to Earthside, but if his father was staying at the Templar’s Stairs he was likely only appointed here temporarily. Which gave the son little opportunity to find someone trustworthy. He might even have been an easy frame job. I stood up and began to wander. I needed lights but didn’t want to attract anyone monitoring the giant window in the entry room. Not that they couldn’t use other methods to realize two prostitutes were wandering about their murder scene. I had to be quick. I had to think.

  “What’s going on?” Alice asked as I dashed along the couches looking for my answer, whatever it was. I didn’t answer. I just kept looking. Colonial Officers might even be on their way. The son might’ve fled and reported the crime thinking we were the killers. Being from Burnside, we were perfect scapegoats and naturally untrustworthy.

  “Kimmie?”

  I had to ignore Alice. I had to think, how would I frame young Nehalem for his father’s murder? I found a restroom hidden in the panel of a wall. It opened up and there in the sink was a heavy looking trophy. It was in the sink, covered in blood. Some one had tried to clean it off.

  I don’t know why I believed that the son had nothing to do with it. It could be his prints all over the sink and trophy. I’m sure I could find his personal quarters and locate where the trophy had come off his shelf. But I couldn’t risk the Colonial Officers choosing him as a suspect first and closing the case, when everything in my gut told me this had something to do with Thom Crisp.

  “Is that a dead body? What are you doing?” Alice asked me as I washed the blood off the trophy.

  “Buying us some time. Help me trash this place. It needs to look like two hookers tore the place up.”

  “Kimmie, we’re two hookers.”

  “Speak for yourself,” I said.

  Now my line of thinking was sound. As with every joke, and every thought, the most important aspect is timing. I was never a stand up comedian. I didn’t have the timing. And I was never the first one to patent an idea, always a day late and a buck short.

  So it was unfortunate that as I hung Nehalem’s body up in the air and wrote in his blood on his chest: ‘PAY NEXT TIME.’ That the lift would open and a whole squad of Colonial Officers would see my unfinished work.

  7. JAIL BREAK

  I didn’t get a chance to tell Alice how to handle the situation. If she kept telling the truth it wouldn’t hurt how I was handling things since we were expected to lie. I just hoped she’d keep Thom Crisp out it.

  “You’re not from Earthside. You have no business here do you?” The interrogating officer said. He had a huge brow that could’ve been confused with a receding hairline.

  “I don’t have any business. I’m retired.”

  The officer glanced at my file again and nodded. “Former KorCorp employee, and recent honorary guard in the expulsion of the Dessup Gang. Are you just some one who likes to kill or were you actually trying to help the Colonial?”

  I gave a laugh to see if it would unnerve him. He had a good poker face.

  “I wouldn’t mind speaking with Grand Officer Tourner if possible, that’s why I came to Earthside today.”

  “I have record of that as well. But as you were told the Grand Officer has left the planet. Is this how you came to be in Grand Officer Nehalem’s presence?” he asked.

  “No, we pretended to be prostitutes.”

  “You’re not aware of Earthside law? Impersonating a prostitute is a criminal offense, as much as impersonating a Colonial Officer.”

  “I didn’t think there was a difference,” I said.

  “Look, there’s plenty of evidence that shows you murdered Grand Officer Nehalem. We even found the boy’s trophy that you had attempted to clean. Right now I’m trying to make sense of it all and establish if there is enough motive for you to be allowed the minimal sentence. But if you’re just killing people for your own jolly good time, well then I can’t help you.”

  I nodded.

  I didn’t have a lot of options. Right now the murder was pinned on me. That wasn’t my plan when I was displaying the corpse to look like a vengeful prostitute had gone off the deep end. I had hoped to get out of there and find Nehalem’s son. I had figured the
re were enough registered and unregistered prostitutes in Earthside to keep the Colonial busy for a night, giving us plenty of time to get back to Burnside.

  Now I sat in a room, convicted.

  A buzzer sounded. I knew that meant my counsel had arrived. The interrogating officer backed away from the table between us and crossed his arms.

  The door opened and in stepped a funny little man. He had big round eyes and a nose that looked like it was about to drip off his face. His teeth were as perfect as could be though, as was his molded hair.

  “Counselor Lewton,” the interrogator groaned.

  “Ah, Officer Francis, what a pleasure to be working with you again.” Lewton smiled at me and began to review my charges on a tablet.

  “This one is open and shut,” Francis said.

  “I heard you all arrived and caught Miss Stryder red-handed. Brilliant. If you could do that at every crime scene I should retire.” Lewton looked up at me and gave a smile.

  “We’re working on her sentencing. She doesn’t want to cooperate.”

  Lewton nodded and checked the tablet again. “I would like to request a moment of privacy with my client so that I can explain her options.”

  Francis didn’t like that, but by law he had to obey. So he dragged his feet out of the interrogating room. Granted the act of him leaving didn’t solve anything for me, I still let out a big sigh it was half as good as the one I’d felt earlier when I got a haircut and fresh make up and pores.

  “Do you understand the differences in Colonial and Earthside law?”

  “There is no difference,” I said.

  “Wrong, but I’m glad you answered that way. Being from Burnside I may be able to draw some leniency in the charges against morality. You cannot be held to the same standard as and Earthsider. Colonial v. Tamhot.” He stated the case proudly. “This would also explain why you were not registered as a prostitute. However, that’s a trickier subject since you should’ve informed the border guard when you attained your visas this afternoon.”

  “Actually, you’re right. I forgot that Colonial and Earthside law are different. By law Earthside cannot detain a citizen of Burnside without allowing them to post bail.”

  Lewton laughed and shook his head. “That’s correct. And I see you are quite well off Miss Stryder. The issue is that you cannot post your own bail. Otherwise you rich Burnsiders would just go on your dandy murdering sprees here in Earthside every chance you could.”

  “I don’t want to post my bail. I want to post bail for Alice Murphy.”

  8. ALWAYS KNOW THE GUY

  “You owe me,” Alice said as we were forced into Old Shepard.

  The loophole in Earthside law also allowed Alice to turn around and post my own bail. Counselor Lewton was very helpful in giving her that information. But the act angered a few, and we were treated to a less than hospitable exit from Earthside. I might be taking it personally, but it seemed like they never wanted to see us again.

  “How much more was it than yours?”

  “You were worth double. I barely had enough. And I know we’re not going to the trial so we’re not going to get it back are we?”

  No, we would not be going to trial. Which meant if we were found guilty of Grand Officer Nehalem’s murder we wouldn’t be safe in Burnside. By law the Colonial Officers could come after us with everything they had.

  But it was a Burnsider’s right not to appear in court.

  I was just hopeful that I could figure out why Nehalem was murdered before they gunned me down.

  Old Shepard sputtered as we took off. I knew right away some one must’ve tampered with him. I tried to remind myself that I made a convincing murderer and the Colonial had every right to treat scum like that. Problem was, I’m rather particular about Old Shepard and it was taking every ounce of willpower not to turn around and wage war on the Colonial prick that messed with my ride.

  We drove for an hour before I heard a tiny sniffle from Alice. Her eyes were pinned out the passenger side window. I didn’t have the right thing to tell her, but I spoke anyway. “Don’t worry. Thom will be fine.”

  I opened a can of Can’t-Shut-The-Hell-Up.

  Alice burst forth with so many questions it was hard to keep track of how an answer could be misconstrued if I did get a word in.

  “…And how can he be a traitor. Even if they forced that information out of him to attack, it’s not like he meant to. The Red Empress would’ve tortured him. Done terrible things. He has to hate her. Why would he come back and ask to see me? Why would he do that if he was just going to help lead the Red Empress here to destroy us all?”

  I bit my tongue, but if Thom Crisp loved Alice, perhaps he would try and meet with her so that he could protect her during the attack.

  “Now I’ll never see him. He’ll think I hate him. I have no way to tell him how hard we tried to see him.” Alice stopped for one whole second, then another, and another. And I realized that it would be quiet in Old Shepard for a while.

  There was nothing we could accomplish back at the shack. I came to a stop and just let us sit there in silence for a minute. I had to make this right. I couldn’t just go back to Macy’s Pub and wait for it to sort itself out. I’d already made Alice give up on Thom Crisp once before. I didn’t have the heart to do it again.

  “Why are we stopped? Come on. Take me back home already, what’s the point? He might as well be dead.”

  “We have to figure out how to get back into Earthside.”

  Alice scoffed at such an idea.

  I nodded. That wasn’t likely. In fact, it was likely they were watching us. Ready for the final verdict to convict us so they could pounce like hungry wolves.

  “We’re going to go back to Macy’s Pub,” I said even as Alice’s groans started to drown me out. “We have to look like we’re staying out of this. But we won’t. I’ve got some favors we can call on.” At least I thought I still did.

  “Might as well,” Alice pouted. She didn’t speak to me the rest of the ride.

  Once we reached Macy’s, Alice said something indiscernible and slammed Old Shepard’s door. It sounded like she broke the hinges. I didn’t come after her. She sprinted into the pub and ordered herself a lot to drink, nothing to eat. She cursed and high-fived some of the regulars like nothing was wrong. She was trying too hard.

  I found my normal seat taken and took the open one at the end of the bar. Right under the news feeds. I heard a deep Russian laugh.

  Gregor sat down next to me. “You are sitting somewhere different. This is why I have not found you all day.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to tell the tale of our adventure in Earthside, so I just smiled back.

  “Alice and you were on the newsfeed earlier. I thought that can’t be true. They are here in Burnside somewhere. So I came looking for you,” Gregor said. “No one here had seen you since the opening of Workman’s Imperial Brown. I get worried, I think my Kimmie has done something very foolish.” He paused when he saw what I was served. It wasn’t another Imperial Brown Ale. It was just a glass of sweet tea. He gasped, “Kimmie, did you kill a Colonial Officer?”

  “A Grand Officer.”

  Gregor buried his face in his hands and shook his ratty looking hair.

  “Relax, it’ll work itself out.” I barely believed that. It wouldn’t work itself out without me working it out. I was in this whether or not I wanted to be. I should’ve just let Alice take Old Shepard yesterday. I should’ve kept drinking. That’ll be my new rule. Keep drinking until there’s nothing left to drink. Then find where there is something to drink and repeat.

  The newsfeed popped on above us.

  “More news on the murder that has all of us talking.”

  I looked at the viewer and wondered which picture of me they were going to use. I really hoped it wasn’t me all made up like some Earthsider. I’d never live that down.

  But as the newsfeed continued, a different woman was shown.

  “Historian Melinda Richards
was found slain in her home this morning. It is a tragic death as she was set to publish her long awaited biography on Colonial’s Benjamin Reasonover. Her publisher assures us the biography will be released in the near future. Richards was just twenty-eight years old. Her killer is still on the loose. Officers are interested in Randall Nehalem, son of recently murdered Grand Officer Nehalem. And it is believed there may be a connection between the two deaths. More after a word from the best Taco Shop in all of Earthside…”

  Randall Nehalem was the teenager that hounded us in Earthside, the one that ran from Grand Officer Nehalem’s room. I had hoped to keep the Colonials off his tail long enough to figure out what this had to do with Thom Crisp, but now they seemed to have a stronger reason to go after him. What’s worse is that Alice and I should’ve had our faces plastered right alongside him. But there was no mention of us.

  Had Officer Francis already figured it out? At the very least we should still be wanted to tampering with a crime scene.

  “What does this have to do with you?” Gregor asked.

  “The murder charge we got is because I tried to cover for Randall Nehalem.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because it looked like someone was trying to frame him for murdering his father.”

  “And this woman, too?”

  “I don’t know who the hell she is,” I said.

  Gregor nodded. “And you’ve been forbidden to return to Earthside?”

  “For now.”

  “Best just leave it alone, let it sort itself out.”

  I started to nod, then stopped. Wasn’t I just saying it wouldn’t sort itself out? I ran through a list of people I knew, I excluded Gregor since he was going to be stubborn and refuse to get involved. I can’t blame him. But I need to find someone just dumb enough to agree to go, who can actually get Randall Nehalem out of Earthside. And pronto.

  “Kimmie, I think you are having bad thoughts. Whatever you are thinking, you stop it right now.”