by A. B. Keuser
The temple was newer than most. She’d met each of the women who currently lived within its immaculate white walls.
And no parishioner questioned why anyone else worshiped the Great Mother.
Drying her still red fingers and slipping on her gloves as she returned to the open passage, she watched the sisters leave with their crates. Laughter burbled across the space to her as they sat atop the trundling machine and and were carried out of the ship, into the bright light of day.
The same superstitions that would label her a monster protected those women on their journey through the crowded streets. Those who didn’t fear the Great Mother knew the Colarim’s justice was often swifter when it came to interfering with the sisters of Serbal.
There was no other source of madris milk… and more non-temple facilities used it here than on any other Colarium world.
The peace force was thick as molasses on the ground. The streets overflowed with an ever-shifting cargo of medical supplies, narcotics, and technology. A market well worth the manpower.
The mad milk on the way to the temple was one of the least valuable drugs moving through the streets that day.
But as the sisters disappeared into the crowd, a new pierced through th edin, and the foul stench of deception rolled to her like fog over grassland.
The man who had joined them was exactly what she imagined “problematic” would look like in human form.
She rested her head against the bulkhead and watched him through the mirror meant to prevent cargo collisions. A moment later, Trey made awkward introductions.
Giuseppe Refuti was precisely the sort of man she stayed away from. Tall, thin, with laser-slick cheeks and glossed back hair, his suit was a garish ensemble that only truly worked in a specific section of Capo’s elite society. She’d seen him on news reels.
Amid the small team of Lazara soldiers, he preened, secure in his place as the one in possession of power.
She wasn’t certain how he thought he held it.
“I’d begun to despair your ever showing up.” He walked a slow circle.
The soldiers discreetly stepped out of his path, like children staring at a school friend with conjunctivitis and keeping just far enough away they wouldn’t be contaminated.
Trey said something, low enough she couldn’t hear it, and Giuseppe’s responses were vague enough they could have been plotting the Colarium’s overthrow, or discussing the best brothel on the planet.
Whatever it was, her Lazarai ferrymen wouldn’t want her interfering, so that was exactly what she’d do.
Pushing away from the wall that screened her from view, she walked silently to the perimeter of their little circle.
“You want it to be a surprise, right?” Trey asked, a moment before anyone saw her.
Giuseppe was the first to freeze, but the others did soon after. Clearly her continued presence on the ship had gone unnoticed.
The improperly dressed outsider’s gaze swept over her and wherever his eyes touched a sickly trail of spine-sharp prickles followed.
He recovered the quickest, turning back to Trey with eyes narrowed to slits. “Of course.”
Trey didn’t answer at first. He stared at her and moved his head, so slowly. But he couldn’t tell her no, and he couldn’t leave his new “friend” unanswered.
“Then we need to move the… items under your sister’s radar. We can have it set up for her and running so that you can reveal what you’ve done.” Trey dipped his head, and Kathrynn wondered if Giuseppe knew he was being spoken to as a child. “She won’t have to lift a finger.”
“Yes, of course, you’re right.” His gaze slid from Trey, back to her. “And who is this?
She waited for Trey to make the introduction. Managed not to smile when he hesitated, sparing an irritated glance for Giuseppe.
With his focus solely on her, the overpuffed socialite didn’t see the contempt there.
“Sister Katia.” He said her false name with an undertone of warning. “This is Mr. Refuti.”
“Your reputation precedes you.”
He smiled, mistakenly accepting it as a compliment.
Smirking as if the recognition was his due, he dipped his head in mimicry of a bow. “My sister speaks highly of your order, though she led me to expect robes and pomp. Perhaps you can convince me of the merits she has yet to explain.”
His eyes traveled down her body and lingered.
Imagination running wild with thoughts of how the ship's crew might react if she forcibly corrected the behavior Giuseppe no doubt thought was a compliment. Her fingers itched to grab her sickles and use the blades to raise his chin. But it gave her time to study him as well.
She found the man lacking in more than what was visible to the Lazarai around her. His future was a jumbled mess she couldn't read in the clear blue sky beyond him. None of the options were ones she’d wish for herself.
He had very little control… if he made the wrong choices here.
The band around his wrist—a slender holoprojector that cost more than the ship on which they stood—pinged with an incessant, shrill tone, and he glared down at the message that interacted with a contact covering over his tattooed irises.
“I’m afraid I have to cut our meeting short this time.” His lips curved in the slimy sort of smile only men aware of their power could pull off. “Next time, I’ll have to get to know you better.”
“I’m sure you will.”
He took her hand without offer or asking and placed a long kiss against her gloved palm. “Until next time, my dear.”
The men shifted around her nervously as Giuseppe left, and Katherine pulled a disinfectant wipe from the sanistation beside the hatch to clean off the wetness he’d left on the synth-leather.
The other Lazarai dispersed, but Trey stepped beside her as she tossed the fabric into the recycler, his eyes narrowed. “You’re not supposed to be snooping.”
“I didn’t realize you were trying to hide anything.” She didn’t know if it had been on purpose, or if he’d truly thought she’d left. “Besides, we both know Archie never keeps anything from Serbal.”
He studied her, probably looking for a reaction to the lie. But sarcasm was a different beast. It required no protection.
It wasn’t a lie, regardless of the wording, and so, there was no reaction for him to see.
Trey didn’t agree with her. “I’m sure it's only as much as what she keeps from him.”
She jerked her head toward the still open hold gate. “Why’s Archimedes dealing with him?”
Trey shrugged a shoulder. “You’ll have to ask the boss.”
“Because he’s so forthcoming with me anymore.”
Shifting uncomfortably, he scowled at the decking. “I don’t like what he did, Kat. You’re not talking. He’s not talking. All I know is something went wrong, and Colm is dead. I have to work with the information I’ve got, so…” he tilted his face away from the others and watched her a moment, silently asking for more. “Without new facts, I can’t help you.”
“I only ask Serbal’s followers to take things on faith. You haven’t visited the temple in two years. And those visits saw you on your knees for something other than praying.” She smiled and he flinched.
“Someone’s been talking.”
“It’s me, Trey. No one has to say a word.”
He straightened his shoulders, and tried to keep his grimace from showing.
“Whatever Archies’ up to… I’ll know that eventually too.”
“Then I don’t need to be the one to say anything.”
She decided to give him his space, but before she walked away, she glanced over her shoulder. “Sister Jenine will be back on Ludo in four months for her ten year reaffirmation. And I know she’ll want to see you.”
A flash of a future in the sun’s reflection on the far wall froze her smile in place. He wouldn’t be there to enjoy her company.
He smirked and she held her tongue.
“
It was just my luck she’d be sent to Capo, the one place I can’t go… well, not to the temple, at least.” He tugged at his cuffs, as if trying to hide the marks years in Archie’s service had left him with.
He’d be caught the moment he stepped off his transport.
“The Great Mother has her reasons. They’ll be revealed in time. And don’t they say something about absence and adoration?”
Shaking his head, he looked out to the skyline in the distance. “Despite what happened with your brother, I hate that he’s gone.”
Kathrynn smiled, ignoring the low ache in her chest. “Me too.”
“He was the only one with any hope of keeping you in line.”
The man who’d stepped beside him flinched, eyes round as any moon she’d had the pleasure of viewing full. She might have laughed, if she wasn’t certain he’d faint.
She didn’t want to be responsible for a brain injury.
“I’ll remember you to the temple leaders here… you may be in need of prayer soon.”
“You wound me.”
A flock of birds broke formation, turning back on themselves, and she saw herself with blades at his throat. Not a set future, but…
“Only if you make me.”
He grimaced, and she wondered what, exactly, he was going to do that would leave her the opportunity to take his head.
Whatever it was, she’d have to wait until his future solidified.
The port scanners were thorough, but entering the city was never as difficult as leaving it, and she let her rosary hang outside her shirt, visible through the open neck of her half unzipped jacket. The followers of Serbal were too-often considered harmless.
The authorities knew she was here. They needed to see her leave the ship.
Once she got to the temple, she could slip in and out however she pleased. Until then, she needed to stick to the camera’s paths.
Visibility was among her least favorite tactics, but on a planet with this heavy of Colarium control… necessity outweighed comfort.
She stepped out into the bustling streets, ignoring the squelch of her boots on the white pavement.
People on her short journey called out blessings to her, thinking her a pre-devout, and she returned them, freely. It let her forget--for those few moments--the way they would react to the monster they would think her if they saw the truth of her eyes.
The head of the temple, Mother Rezzekah, greeted her with a joyous smile and upturned palms.
“Blessings of the Mother.”
Kathrynn followed Rezzekah into the temple’s shadow, pausing on the threshold as her neck prickled, she turned back. To look directly at the three separate peace officers following her.
Two quickly shrank away into the crowd.
The last… didn’t.
She smiled, her painted lips quirking to one side only, and gave her a small salute.
Shadows shifted, welcoming….
“I’m afraid,” Kathrynn said to Rezzekah as she started back down the steps. “The Great Mother has deemed my presence required elsewhere. I’ll find you when I return.”
If the woman was offended, Kathrynn would let her voice her objections later.
The sultry air fluttered by her as she stepped into the crowded market and followed the short, wending path to where the woman stood.
“Is there something you need of the temple?” Kathrynn didn’t bother to hide her amusement.
Shaking her head, the woman’s short curls bobbled around her face. “What I need, only you can offer.”
Tucked into a corner with her shoulder against the wall, she looked younger than she was. Kathrynn would guess mid to late thirties, but something in the coquettish manner melted away a decade. An effect, she no doubt used to great advantage.
Kathrynn knew a thing or two about that.
But whatever she wanted, there was no deceit in her intent. And for all Kathrynn could tell, nothing in the woman’s request would be against her orders, her rites, or her own moral code. And if the way she was biting her lip was any clue, it would be far more enjoyable than listening to Mother Rezzekah drone on about fellowship and yields.
“What’s your name, Lieutenant?”
“Nandy.” That half-quirked smile returned.
“And what are you willing to do to get what you need, Nandy?”
“I’m authorized to give you specific information and an unregistered credit chip.”
Kathrynn waited, watching as the woman’s pupils dilated.
She lifted her hand and dragged it down the front of Kathrynn’s jacket. “I think you know what else I’m offering on top of that.”
“Maybe we should go somewhere, and see about an arrangement that will benefit us both.”
When Nandy smiled and dipped her head in a nod, Kathrynn sent one last glance toward the temple before following the petite lieutenant through the city and into a block of private rooms.
Two hours later, Kathrynn returned to the temple, information exchanged, an enjoyable contact made, and a new name to add to her list of “hands that steered the Colarium machine.”
Now, she just needed a secure terminal, and an hour to research Senior Colari Harris.
Nine - Flynn
Pulling Seamus and Maya out of school to visit Chadrick had been relatively easy… when compared to keeping them away from the body.
By the time Chad allowed him to deliver them to Henri, only threats and bribes had kept the morgue child-free.
Flynn himself had been banned from the tunnels at Anderson Lodge and warned off interfering. In silent defiance, he’d set his shoulder to yet another wall as Chadrick performed the autopsy.
The morgue module was cold and sterile—like every other one Flynn had seen—stamped out of cookie cutter molds somewhere in the Colarium’s center ring. Designed to meet safety and health standards, they were white cubes full of hard lines and laser-smoothed surfaces. It gave him the creeps—more so even than the body Chad had pulled from the far wall of lockers.
Flynn had grown accustomed to corpses. It wasn’t as if you had a choice when entrenched for your fourth week on a void-dark rock with grenades falling in intermittent hail storms.
This body was a font of mysteries, and if it held answers, he couldn’t understand the language.
They didn’t even know what had made the hole in his head, just that it was a projectile larger than a forty-five caliber, but probably not a bullet.
Or… who had bit him around the time he was killed. He just knew their mouth was messed up, based on the mold Chad pulled out.
All Flynn knew for sure was that the man was from off world, had no Colarium criminal file, and was missed by no one. If he’d ever been in the Colarium public data banks, someone had wiped him clean out of it.
Not an easy task. He knew from personal experience.
“I give up.” Chad shoved the body back into the freezer after hours of weighing organs, running samples, and scowling into a chest cavity. “I’m putting his description—there’s not enough of his face left for a photo—on the missing persons bulletin and we’ll see if anyone comes to claim him. At this point, I won’t hold my breath.”
Henri had come and gone an hour earlier. Her thoughts on the body, Seamus’ brand of “cooperation”, and that it had been Flynn he’d gone to… had not been conveyed with kind words.
Chad paused after typing out the final information into the computer. “He’s… not one of yours, is he?”
There was no one around to hear, so Flynn raised his voice over the faucet as Chad washed his hands. “If he’s with the Lazarai, I don’t know him… and it’s not like I can ask anymore.”
“No, of course not. And you would have said.” Chad smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I guess it’ll be a ‘wait and never find out thing.”
“You wait, I’m going to do some hunting… where I can.”
“Strange,” he closed up the med cube and hurried after. “It looks like we’re headed for the ba
r.”
“Best place to sort the clues from the gossip.”
“And the whiskey’s a bonus too.”
They could hear the bar’s music from half way down the street, and Flynn scanned the bright windows. “I think it’s a rum night. I need the sugar. It’s good for shock, right?”
Chad snorted, but pushed through the doors and into Susan’s.
As Flynn’s eyes adjusted to lights, he saw the long wooden bar, polished to dullness, and his gaze traced the bottles, looking for a remedy to his irritation.
Putty sat in one of the handful of mismatched chairs set around their normal, wobbly table. He waved them over, red dust falling from his arm with the movement.
“Don’t bother ordering,” he shot them a sardonic smile as they sat with him, glasses in front of their chairs, a bowl of peanuts at the center. “I didn’t want to drink alone.”
“How could you be sure we’d show?”
Putty gave him a look Flynn recalled seeing on a weekly basis when they were teens. “You found a dead body last night. Not even you are inoculated to death enough to sleep well tonight without a little help. And I know you’re not going to ask for the kind that comes in a little orange pill.”
Chad had fully relaxed into his chair, one arm slung over the back. “I could give you something… but not if you drink that.”
Flynn gave both his brother and his friend a sharp smile and downed the whole tumbler like a shot. Putty never bought the expensive stuff anyway.
Susan brought over the bottle and gave him a meaningful look. “After what you’ve been up to last night and today, you’ll want this.”
Thanking her, Flynn watched the woman go, and wondered.
There were gossipy perks to sleeping with the governor, it would seem. Flynn had a feeling that information exchange went both ways. And that several of the bar’s patrons would sober up real fast if they knew about the relationship both had worked hard to keep under wraps.
“Did I miss anything fun underground today?” He asked, knowing Putty’s answer had the potential to bore him to death.
“No. The captain who controls the closest section to the Anderson Lodge shafts seems to think it’s my job to run in whatever direction he points like a mindless drone.”