by A. B. Keuser
Looking up at his as-yet-unnamed ship, the junkyard owner stood at the base of his jury rigged scaffold-cum-stairs.
“What do you want?”
Nika turned on his boot heel and, after a bare moment’s scowl, forced a smile. If not for the initial emotion—and many a month’s worth of prior evidence—Flynn might have thought him genuine.
The man hadn’t been what Flynn expected. Tall and lanky, the old man looked like a retired vid star. Too pretty for the refuse he surrounded himself with.
“Monroe,” Nika tried to stand a little taller, but an old injury--one Flynn had never gotten the story behind--kept him from pressing his spine fully straight. “Not harassing my watch dogs, are you?”
Flynn didn’t answer the question when he clearly didn’t care about the answer. He stopped six feet away from the man, wondering if he was intentionally blocking the entrance to the ship.
Nika wasn’t that stupid.
“Again,” Flynn considered just walking past the man, but being on bad terms with his landlord wouldn’t do him any favors. “What do you want?”
The smile tightened. “I heard you had a run in with one of Refuti’s yellow cuffs.
“Not sure I’d call it that.”
“I make it a point to be aware of any and all business dealings in and around the Redlands.”
Again, Flynn waited. The man was best dealt with when he was given time to gloat.
But he didn’t.
“Let’s take a walk.”
Despite his own desires, Flynn fell in beside the man. They walked to the central structure in silence.
The scrap yard offices were in a barn-like structure. The painted metal roof mimicked the dirt on which it stood, and the wooden boards of its face were held together with iron and copper straps. Nika shoved aside the heavy wooden door that slid back on rollers and they stepped into the cool, dark interior.
Junk was piled high along the walls. Flynn always felt like he’d entered some surreal maze.
Putty, would be the proverbial kid in a candy store if Nika granted him access.
Flynn ran his fingers over a piece of machinery, guessed it was an oversized toaster with a trio of coils sprouting from its top.
Nika looked sharply around them and then straightened his shoulders. “What do you know about them?”
“Them?”
“Refuti’s yellow cuffs.”
“I assume they’re the ones with yellow cuffs on their uniform sleeves.”
“We’ve got some catching up to do.” He jerked his head to the side, and Flynn fell in line again. It was never a good idea to piss off your landlord.
“Refuti’s people are—for the most part—good, hardworking folk. Hell, I’d have stolen any number of them away, but she pays too damn well. No one’s willing to leave.”
“And the yellow cuffs…?”
Nika snorted, then spit. “They aren’t even qualified as far as I can tell.”
“So why does she keep them?”
“I don’t know. My theory is that she doesn’t know they’re useless. She’s not here all that often—I don’t think she’s been on the surface in three years—and unlike those of us who stick close to our investments, she doesn’t have as much opportunity to see what’s going on when she’s not around.”
“So you’re saying you aren’t surprised one of them tried to kill another terrafarmer in town today?”
“If they’d been going after you, I wouldn’t have been. You’ve annoyed me, and I’m about the easiest going person on the planet.” Nika chuckled and started restacking coils of empty metal-clad.
“Listen, I’ve had a full day’s work and broken up a brawl.” He didn’t mention the pain meds Chad had slipped in his pocket. “I’m not really up for a pingball conversation.”
“Something is going on, and I think you could get to the bottom of it.”
“I’ve already got a job.”
“Good. I’m not hiring. But I know your type. I’ll lay the bread crumbs and you’ll track down the real problem. You’re the type that just can’t help themselves.
“To that point, I wouldn’t at all be surprised if the Captains weren’t doing their part to mess with production… see if they can’t get more out of the Colarium.”
“The mines are a union. They don’t need to pull that nonsense to get what they want.”
“No,” Nika pushed open the doors, his voice all but swept away by the wind. “But Drea Saguas is up to something. And if not that, then what?”
Flynn didn’t share Nika’s suspicions, but everything was worth looking into.
Wasn’t it?
Six - Sophia
Her brother had cancelled their dinner plans, and Sophia, while not particularly happy about his inconstancy, was relieved. She had too much to do, and no time to return to Capo.
Her latest endeavor was proving a potential disaster.
Latest might have been a misnomer. The plant on Veylon had been in process for six years, but it was the most recent of what her lesser investors deemed a risk.
Iron ore was precious and the dividends were high.
While she left the mining on Sukiyaki to those who had staked the first claim, she had her hand in several operations elsewhere in the systems. After all, you had to build ships to have something to fuel, and Colarium cruisers weren’t made of paper and spit.
Fingers pressed to her temples, she glared at the numbers laid out on her portable desk screen and wondered if she would be within her rights to escape on another competitor-aide mission, as Banks had started to call it in a dark tone. At that precise moment, she’d have sold vertebrae to do physical labor—though she recognized that the one would make the other quite impossible—rather than read another report.
Especially one like this… that didn’t add up.
“If you’re not careful, your face is going to get stuck like that.”
Banks had appropriated the desk on the other side of the office she owned on Pontiac Five—one of the Colarium’s older space stations.
“If it does, there’s a surgery to fix it, I’m sure.”
The door tone chimed, and a woman bustled in a moment after Banks released the manual lock. She held a tablet in a white knuckled grip and passed it across the desk, swallowing hard.
“The secure reports, downloaded directly.”
The station was too old for Sophia to trust its transmission systems and encryptions. Hand deliveries also gave her the opportunity to interact with the five people she staffed on-site.
“Thank you, Lori.” She took the tablet and opened it, vaguely aware that the woman had stayed put, her hands twisting against each other and she chewed on her lower lip.
“There was a minor issue with law enforcement in our terrafarming asset on Sukiyaki. The governor of that planet would like to speak with you, but I believe she’ll settle for an apology from the head of operations on site.”
Sophia nodded, but made a mental note to contact Henri when she had a spare moment.
Lori liked to work her way up to the worst of the report items and then immediately move on to the biggest good news she had. Sophia on the other hand wasn’t a fan of dancing around the ugliest items.
Scanning through the bullet points, her mouth went dry as she opened the file marked incendiary failure.
She no longer heard what Lori said, no longer saw anything other than the numbers and descriptions on the screen in front of her.
Even those began to swim.
Great Mother help her, but she was going to find whoever was responsible and lock them in a hole so deep and dark they’d mutate for night vision before their sentence saw them released.
“How much money did you lose,” Banks asked her in response to something Lori said. The accounting was all the further they’d gotten.
“None.” Sophia glanced at the report to be sure. “I made three point four billion in insurance payouts and heightened commodities demand.”
Lori
blew out a breath and looked as though she was relieved.
Relief was not something Sophia could even grasp just then. Her skin prickled and she pushed the pad away from her, clenching and unclenching the hand that had held it. Her fingertips stung with the memory of its weight.
“Twelve people died.” Her voice was too sharp.
Lori flinched away, eyes blinking like strobe shutters. Banks pushed slowly to his feet and Sophia wondered if her bodyguard thought he might need to protect Lori from her as he placed himself between them.
But when he spoke, it was to Lori, over his shoulder, and his tone was not kind. “That isn’t information you hand someone without warning.”
“They had life insurance policies,” her voice was soft, a sharp line formed between her furrowed brows. “The money is already through to processing.”
Sophia dropped her head to her hands, she didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to think about any of it, but she had to, had to stare down the person in the room who had turned those twelve people into tallies and hash marks on a liability spreadsheet.
And in some ways… she had to do the same.
“Double what they’re getting.” Money didn’t solve problems like this, but it could make things easier for those grieving.
Lori stared at her in shock and swallowed, too loudly. “We—”
Banks cut her off with a raised hand. “Just get the request to the main office on Capo. The accounting team there will get it done.”
Lori scurried away and Sophia forced her shoulders down, away from her ears.
Catching her hand, he gave a gentle squeeze.
“Deep breaths,” Banks watched the door, not her, and she complied.
They’d been through things like this before, and he’d never let her fall down a black hole.
“Should I be used to this by now?”
Banks had been a soldier once. Not officially—he’d never gotten fitted with the cerebral equipment—but he’d seen actual death, up close and personal, not just numbers on a screen.
“No. No one should ever get used to it.”
He moved back to the desk he’d been using, tapped in a few commands, shook his head at something and then closed up whatever he’d done.
“I sent a message to your assistant. He’ll make sure whatever can be done is.”
“Thank you.”
Sophia pulled the tablet back to her. It wasn’t something that could be avoided, so she wouldn’t try. As soon as she was thinking clearly about it, she’d figure out how a brand new ship’s engine could destroy itself without outside interference.
The other reports on her list were easier to stomach. Losses and profits, two health and safety inspections pending, and one formal complaint….
That, she would address personally.
“Have Lori connect us on a secure line through the ship to Horza.”
Banks brows roze, but he did as she asked without voicing the questions she knew floated around his head, and, ten minutes later, she was looking at Tina Mace.
The woman ran her operations on Horza well, based on past reports. What she saw now, and why a foreman had been the one to make a complaint about not being able to complete production phase three on time, she couldn’t guess.
“I didn’t expect you to look into it personally Ms. Refuti. But I’m glad you have. Whatever’s going on is too weird to have come through legitimate channels, and if it has… well, it’ll be better if I tender my resignation to you, personally.”
Sharing a glance with Banks, Sopha turned her attention back to the woman. “What, exactly, is wrong.”
“You’ll have seen in your reports we’re grossly behind schedule.”
“And that’s prompting your resignation?”
Tina scoweld, the deep set lines on her face weren't the result of age, but a combination of mineral dust, and comm interference. “Someone in personnel made a big shift, we’re down to fifty percent staffed and I can’t hope to get back on schedule without a full crew. Even that might not be enough.”
Horza was an old site, one they’d had for decades. She’d bought it and its sister for a ridiculously low sum at auction and had been working on the requirements to make it profitable ever since. They’d only completed the final phase of the complex and begun the operation two standard months before.
“You’ve had crew leaving?”
“A hundred and five workers gone. Where and for what, I don’t know. You’ll have to ask your recruitment department about it.”
“I will. Thank you for keeping me updated. If anything else… odd happens. Contact me directly and immediately.” She paused and studied the woman’s face once more. “I’ll make sure we get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible. Don’t worry about keeping with the schedule, just do what you can with what you have. When I know more, I’ll be in touch.”
She slid her fingers across the end command and stared at the screen long after it had gone black.
Banks didn’t say a word, not until she finally looked up.
“Do we need to do an on-site audit?” He’d leaned back in his chair, looking like nothing so much as a lazy cat.
“Not yet.” Scrolling through the information Tina had sent along with her formal complaint, she glared at the block of employees who’d been transferred.
She didn’t know any of them by name. “They’re all minor positions. Hard laborers.”
“Is there a project that needs more brawn?” Banks asked, glaring down at the names on the list she’d transferred to him.
“Only the one on Veylon. We’ve got the other three mines set up as automated as possible.”
Fewer bodies meant fewer opportunities for casualties. Swallowing back the bile that came with that thought, she focused on the numbers.
“Then where are they going?”
“That is the million colar note question.” She didn’t think it was something Geo would be capable of… but he still hadn’t revealed his birthday surprise…. “I’ll have accounting track it down on the back end. If they’ve quit, they shouldn’t be getting a paycheck, and if payroll has shifted to another project, they’ll be easy to track down there.”
“And if that avenue doesn’t pan out?”
She knew what he was thinking, she’d already made the decision she knew he’d suggest. “I think we should put one of your crew on it. People work faster when the one asking the questions has a gun on their hip.”
“I know the perfect woman for the job.” He pulled the data pad from his thigh holster… the one below his gun… and sent off a quick block of text. “She’ll have an answer for us by the end of the week, if not sooner.”
“Maggie?” Sophia guessed.
And he nodded. “No one on my team is better at solving mysteries.”
The woman was a force of nature… and not the good kind. She was the sort that would pick you up, toss you around, and then beat you to a pulp on the rocks if you weren’t careful.
“Great Mother help anyone who tries to deceive her.”
“So, if we’re not headed to Horza, and we’re not going back to Capo… where is our next port of call?”
She could have told him… but one of the perks of having him with her instead of one of his men, was that a simple smile made him squirm, and as her lips curved, she enjoyed the subtle signs of his discomfort.
“It’s time to hunt my brother down.”
Seven - Flynn
Flynn had managed to make it two weeks without twisting the closed wound open again, and the longer he could keep Chadrick and those tweezers away, the better.
He hadn’t seen anyone in suspicious places, and he hadn’t been forced to save his brother from any murderous machines.
For the moment, he’d almost be willing to call the Redlands “peaceful.”
As he climbed up the ramp he’d made from welded sheet metal and the remains of an abandoned shaft’s support scaffold, he knew it wouldn’t last.
The scaffo
ld wobbled under his weight, swaying like it wanted to buck him off, but he’d stood on more precarious footing. And back then, there’d been bullets flying at his head.
He traced his knuckles along his neck and scowled at the horizon fading from pink to green to the deep blue of night.
It was never as dark as the void here.
Too many moons.
But the expanse of cargo hold beyond the hatch he’d spun open was void-dark once he closed it again. The dim glow from his flashlamp as his only guide.
The ship’s interior was cool, and he stopped to plug in the ugly patch cord snaking out of the black maw. It was the only immediate indication someone was using the derelict.
He’d leased the temporary work lights from the mine and was paying a flat rate for the power from Nika’s electro-pump. He still wasn’t sure who had gotten the better deal on either.
The lights formed a curving pathway through the hold… an empty expanse that wouldn’t win him any Colarium contracts when the ship was up and running, but also wouldn’t put him in their sights as a potential freight hauler… and avoiding notice was among his top priorities.
He’d been doing that for years. There was a lot of void. And this time, they wouldn’t be looking for him.
But financing his own movements—no longer backed by the Lazarai’s coffers—was another thing altogether. He couldn’t afford to sit idle.
The lights led in two directions, and while a smart man would have headed for his bunk and much needed sleep, he took the fork in the path that led to the far wall.
Thick paint pens littered the floor and he snatched up the fluorescent pink he’d decided would best indicate a dead end.
The wall was a mess of words and slashes, scribbled out guesses. More questions than answers.
But after the day’s exhaustive talk with Henri—he was pretty sure she hadn’t figured out what he was up to—he could cross off another of his hypotheses.
Lazarai infiltrates Redlands government.
Whatever Henri and the captains were keeping to themselves—and he was certain Nika was right. They were hiding something—it wasn’t anything Archimedes Holzen and his people could use… not effectively anyway.