by Scott Moon
He doesn’t look hurt, Thaddeus thought. His legs felt heavy and his left arm could be made of out either stone or a soggy bundle of ropes with no nerve endings. “Get it together, Fry man!” He gritted his teeth against the pain and ran on.
He struck his left arm with the barrel of his blaster, glancing at the source of his growing pain. If there was blood, it was lost in the fabric of the sleeve and shadows of the buildings.
Every street held groups of men and women wandering away from the morning conflict. Snatches of confused conversation buffeted Thad as he ran by them. Anger, confusion, and discontent seemed to be the order of the day.
He saw Ike cross a street and duck into another alleyway. For three long blocks, he pursued his quarry. Somewhere along the way, he holstered his blaster and pressed his palm to the wound on his upper left arm, wincing in pain and wondering why there wasn’t more blood.
A young woman appeared from one of the prefabricated doorways a dozen meters ahead of him.
“Where’s your pig?” she asked as he jogged past her.
“Go inside. It’s dangerous out here,” he said, instantly realizing the doorway she had popped out of wasn’t hers. The strange girl was on the move. She had probably been running parallel to his pursuit of Ike.
She appeared again on the next block, and the one after that, always a bit ahead of him.
Well, she hasn’t been in a gunfight. She should be faster than I am, Thad thought, odd that he wondered what she was up to.
Ike staggered straight down a deserted street. This seemed like a good place for Thad to finish the fight, but the man ducked around the corner.
The girl, behind Thad this time, caught up to him and walked quickly at his side, emphasizing how slowly he was now running. Gasping for breath. Breathing. Sweating like a boot camp recruit.
“Who are you?” Thaddeus asked.
“Told you I’m Ruby Miranda,” she said. “Ike’s my brother.”
Thaddeus stopped and stared at the sky.
“Black sheep of the family,” she said.
“You or him?”
“Him, of course! How could you even ask that?” She smiled mischievously. “We kind of hate each other more than you think we would. He was disinherited a long time ago. Me, only recently.”
“Great. That’s fantastic,” Thaddeus said, leaning on his hands to catch his breath. “You don’t seem to be doing bad. I’m not sure why you’re working for Dixie. You obviously don’t need the money.” He waved a hand at her expensive safari outfit as he stood and moved toward the last place he’d seen Ike.
“Stolen. It is a ridiculous outfit, but more functional than what Dixie makes me wear. I like you, Sheriff Fry. I’m glad my brother hasn’t killed you,” she said, then pointed at a long building made of clear ceramic panels. “He didn’t go that way. He went through this greenhouse. See the blood?”
Thad abandoned the alleyway he thought Ike had slipped into and looked at the door. On the handle was a smear of blood.
“He’s a trickster. Don’t be fooled by the blood. He isn’t hurt as bad as he wants you to think he’s hurt,” she said.
“Why are you helping me?” Thad asked.
“I have my reasons. Besides, you’re cute for an old guy,” she said.
“Thanks. I think.” He almost doubled over in pain, panting as he attempted to regain control of himself.
She stepped forward and pulled his jacket open.
Blood stained the left side of his shirt to his waist despite the lack of a torso wound. “My father and uncles did military service. They didn’t have to.”
Thaddeus winced at the pain, controlling his breathing with effort. “That’s noble of them. Hope they enjoyed Officer Candidate’s School. Ike is getting away.”
She shook her head. “I doubt it. He’s probably watching us and trying to decide if he wants to come back and punch me in the face or escape.”
“You have a lovely family.”
She laughed as she pulled a cloth from a pocket of her trousers and wiped away blood from his chest, shoulder, and arm. “The wound is small, actually. Let me find it. There it is, right on your humerus.”
“Ouch!”
“Easy, tough guy,” she said. “My father did go to OCS. My uncle went enlisted for the experience.”
“At least now I know which of them is smarter,” Thad said, searching the buildings and alley openings for Ike.
“Ike tried to be like my uncle, but it didn’t work. He acted like a spoiled rich kid and things went sideways. He got into some things after his term of enlistment. Ran with a bad crowd. Got disowned. Right now, he is trying to earn his way back into the family’s good graces,” she said.
“Your family is more powerful than SagCon? Give me a break.”
“We’re part of it. SagCon is a big organization. Factions within factions, like any good interstellar government. I know. You think it’s just a corporation,” she said. She finished tying her bandana over the wound. “There. The blaster doesn’t use a slug, so you’re lucky on that point. It also sears the wound shut if you don’t charge all over the place pulling the flesh apart. This isn’t a tourniquet, just a pressure bandage. Don’t go too long before getting real medical attention.”
“You talk like a combat medic and sound like a runaway kid. You and I are going to have a sit-down talk when this is over,” he said.
“If I stay on Ungwilook,” she said.
Thaddeus opened the door leading into the long greenhouse. Several of the lights were out, either missing or smashed. He looked back at Ruby.
“I’m not going in there,” she said. She shrugged. “Allergies.”
“Good. Go back to the Mother Lode.”
“Yes, dad.”
He shook his head. “We’re going to have a talk.”
She walked away, quickly disappearing as he was partway into the humid building already. His arm throbbed as he moved carefully forward, eventually emerging on the next block. From time to time, he spotted a drop of blood.
“This is convenient,” he said as he knelt for a closer look. The dark red blotch was perfectly round, as though it had been dropped intentionally. The cold finger of danger tickled the back of his neck. He moved away from the blood evidence and looked for an attack. The street was quieter than he thought it should be, but no one burst from doorways or rooftops to kill him.
Thad slipped the data pad from his coat pocket and activated the radio patch application. “Mast, can I get a little help here?”
“Very muchly,” Mast said. “Andronik says he can see you and you are looking the wrong way.”
“Roger.” Thad dropped his chin to his chest in frustration as soon as he said the word.
“Roger? What is a Roger?”
“It means yes, I understand.”
“Oh, then very muchly Roger on this end,” Mast said, almost giggling with the delight of learning an important new word.
Thad looked up the street and saw a lean Unglok child jumping up and down, waving his hands. “Sheriff Thaddeus Fry! Over here! Muchly here!”
Thad walked to him, pushed his arms down, and motioned with the palm of his left hand to be calm. “Listen, Andronik, don't ever say ‘muchly’ again.”
Tears rimmed Andronik's eyes and his ears quivered. “Do you still want to find the bad man?”
“Yes, Andronik. I do.” He cursed himself inwardly at the incredible urge to say “muchly.”
The Unglok child pointed toward a row of purpose-built warehouses, but never took his dark amethyst eyes from Thad's face. “He went that way very…straightly.”
Thad patted the Unglok child on the head. “Very good, Andronik.”
Andronik's tears vanished. His eyes opened larger than seemed possible and his smile stretched disturbingly wide. He hopped up and down on his toes as he babbled in the Unglok language.
Thad held the data pad radio up and turned it on. “Mast, what does this mean?”
“Sheriff Thadde
us Fry! Please tell me you didn't pat him on the top of the head!”
Thad looked down at the child who was now staring up, blinking rapidly. “Um, stay here and watch the street.”
Andronik ran in a short circle, arms spread in the airplane pose. “Andronik will watch the street very much…” He froze in place and jerked his wide eyes toward Thaddeus.
Thaddeus laughed. The sound was a bit hysterical, but it was a laugh. “Better, Andronik. Just…watch the street and stop running around.”
“How will the grownups know I'm a child if I stomp like this?” Andronik perfectly imitated the plodding step of an adult Unglok.
Ungloks and humans turned onto the street to go about their normal business. Thad felt like he had wasted too much time on the excitable kid and lost Ike.
“Oh, no. He's in the third warehouse where he always goes,” Andronik said.
Thad froze, staring at the child. “Did you just…?”
Andronik shook his head emphatically without blinking or cracking a smile.
“Okay. Stay here. Or go home or whatever. Just don't follow me.”
Andronik started running around acting like an Unglok child. Several others joined him.
All the warehouses looked the same. The only difference Thad could see was the amount of wear and tear leading to the large cargo doors of each building. The third warehouse looked dark. Broken windows decorated the top level. Birds—he hoped—burst from the openings and whirred away in an expanding cloud of small wings.
He approached from the side of the building, wishing he had better cover and concealment. A full tactical team and an evacuation plan would be nice. It is what it is, he thought.
Pain ached in his arm. He wanted a drink. Thoughts of Shaunte, Dixie, and his ex-wives circled his brain.
The warehouse, like all the others, was fronted with a loading dock capable of receiving large pallets of exotic minerals or heavy equipment. The closer he came to it, the more it seemed to loom above him. He hurried to the stairs at one end and sprinted onto the platform.
Ike's footprints and a drop of blood pointed the way like a sign.
He's already tried to kill me. His sister says he's clever and mean, Thaddeus thought. He approached a window and looked inside without sticking his entire face into view. With his off-hand, he shaded the window, but was still unable to see far inside.
Next to the bank of industrial-sized double-doors was a personnel access point, like a regular door except in better condition. The big doors were normally open. Workers usually went that way.
He didn't see footprints here, but weather had cleared this section of the landing of dust, more or less. The handle turned easily. He pushed the door open and stepped back, gripping his gun with both hands and raising it into a low ready position.
Two seconds later, he rushed through and moved to the left of the door, sweeping the barrel of his blaster across the massive room but didn’t see Ike.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Ladies and Dog
Dixie slid off the barstool and placed her hands on her hips, one leg delightfully exposed if she did say so herself—and she did, often—and her hair perfectly mangled. “Where have you been, little miss-behavin’?” Dixie asked the new girl as she straggled into the Mother Lode. To her immense satisfaction, more than half the patrons paused with their small, carefully measured shot glasses half way to their mouths to watch the confrontation.
“Why, Miss Dixie, Darklanding is so big I got lost,” Ruby said.
“Have you seen the sheriff?”
Ruby nodded.
Dixie crossed the room and looked down on her, standing so close she was breathing the upstart girl's air. “Now's not the time to hold out on me. Spill it, child.”
Ruby looked up with innocent eyes. “He's helping Miss Shaunte with the workers going on strike.”
Dixie grabbed Ruby's shoulder without thinking. She looked around for someone to relieve the sudden feeling of dread. The wannabe drunks turned away. Even Maximus had his head down where he slept at the door to the kitchen.
“Why aren't you with the sheriff!” she accused the animal.
Maximus rolled his eyes and huffed, then moved lazily toward the front door.
“Stupid animal,” Dixie said.
“I thought you liked Maximus?” Ruby said.
“I love dogs, and cats. But I'm not sure that thing is either. Don't change the subject. Where is the sheriff?”
“Oh, would you like me to take you to him? I heard from Mast's kids where he is looking for Ike, who is going to try to kill him,” Ruby said.
Dixie grabbed her upper arm. “No more games, child. Take me there. And we better not be too late.”
Ruby pried her arm free, then carefully pushed back from Dixie so that her breasts were no longer looming in her face. “I think Sheriff Fry will get the drop on my brother. Not much we can do but watch.”
Dixie's mouth opened and closed but no words came out. A familiar and not very welcome voice came from the stairs.
“We can all go,” Shaunte said.
Dixie looked up. The Company Man was carrying two hunting rifles.
“Ruby Miranda, can you use one of these things?” Shaunte asked.
“Can you?” Ruby asked.
“My family owns three hunting reserves. It's been a while, but I learned to hunt with my father,” Shaunte said. Her official jumpsuit was like Ruby's safari gear in some ways, functional and tough. She had her hair tied back and wore a sturdy—and fashionable—pair of yellow-tinted shooting glasses. “Let's go.”
“Well, that would be grand, wouldn't it?” Dixie said. “Three little women going to save the Lone Ranger and his trusty sidekick.”
“What are you talking about?” Ruby asked. Shaunte also looked perplexed.
Defensive and unable to hide it, Dixie thrust her chin up. “I like to read. And watch old movies.”
Shaunte shook her head and led the way out of the Mother Lode. Maximus waited on the oversized front porch. He followed the three of them with his head bobbing side to side as he walked, tongue lolling like a dog and nostrils snorting like a wild pig.
Other pedestrians moved out of their way as the setting sun pierced the smog behind them, and a shuttle launched into space.
Chapter 15: The Final Conflict
Calm down, Fry man, Thaddeus thought. This was the part he had to do alone. Mast was a good deputy, but he had no tactical training and his firearms skill didn't deserve the name.
Dust motes striped the center of the room, shifting lazily without a breeze to blow them away. The broken windows high above looked smaller from the inside. He moved as quietly as possible and hunkered down next to a piece of heavy equipment to give his eyes time to adjust.
Silence ruled. If Ike was in here, the man was smart enough to do the same thing Thad was doing. Charging in the door was necessary because he didn't want to be a target in that small space. Now that he was inside, he needed to slow down and use all his senses.
What was a sheriff supposed to do? He knew what the ground forces officer would do—hold what he had and relay information until a proper strike team could be assembled. In the minds of his past leaders, this would not be seen as a heroic effort to catch a criminal but rather a useless waste of resources. They would label him a rogue operator at best and insubordinate at worst. The low risk move would have been to surround the building and wait. At some point, Ike would have to come out.
But Thad didn’t have those kinds of resources.
He crouched low and moved to a new position, worried that he had not heard his quarry move. There wasn't much time for detailed analysis of his situation. His past was in the past, and now he was the Sheriff of Darklanding. Ike had tried to kill him and incite a labor riot.
Thaddeus had to bring him down.
A generator rumbled to life and shook the ceiling and walls of the enormous warehouse. Stacks of crates almost reached the ceiling. The aisles between them were wide enough for a large fo
rklift or robot to move items. From his vantage point, there was no way to see them all.
He looked again to the windows, and wished he could see down on the maze of supplies and equipment. Mast or some of his spy children could provide an excellent over-watch. Thoughts of blaster ricochets taking out one of the little street rats caused him to rethink the idea. He took his hand away from the data pad radio and proceeded alone.
Every step was a struggle for him not to call orders to his squad leaders. Some habits were so ingrained that they would never leave him. With the familiar adrenaline rush of combat came memories of Centauri Prime and all the things he was trying to forget.
He moved faster.
Row after row proved empty. He darted through the open areas and crossed behind cover when he could find it.
“I see you, lawman.”
Thad froze, then turned slowly to look for his enemy. The voice felt like it was coming from ahead of him and maybe up on top of one of the stacks. He crossed to the other side of the aisle and waited.
“Do you know what's nice, lawman? Night vision optics. I bet you know all about those from your training. I'm kind of disappointed a hard-charging veteran like you didn't come better prepared.”
Moving heel to toe, Thaddeus stepped forward. Ike talked as though he knew where Thad was. That had to change.
“Keep talking, Ike. You have a face for radio.”
Ike laughed. “That's good. I'm not trying to hide from you. Not anymore. Come to the sound of my voice and see what happens.”
Thaddeus slipped into the next aisle, and kept his gun pointed forward. Despite his training and experience, it was tempting to aim as though his enemy would appear at any second. He could raise the weapon from the low ready and fire off accurate rounds all day long, but not if he exhausted his shoulders and arms needlessly.
The sheriff didn’t know how long this would keep up.
Ike kept talking and Thaddeus kept moving closer. One of the large cargo doors slid to the ceiling, surprising them both.