Slow Burn Dark

by A. B. Keuser

On the streets again, she slipped along her predetermined route, one that avoided all cameras and would make it look like she’d only left the temple a few moments earlier. Caireaux had no curfew. No one would stop a lone stranger, no matter what part of the city they were in.

  Too bad it was a night she actually wanted a fight.

  She’d have to save that for Trey when she got back on the shuttle. But with him, she’d use words, not fists.

  Getting him to deviate from their pre-planned course was going to involve a shouting match she very much looked forward to.

  Grabbing her bag from where she’d stashed it, she slipped the data mine—now looking like nothing so much as a child’s toy, one that could be easily bought from any of a dozen shops on her way from the temple to the port—in along with their extra clothes.

  Then, she didn’t care what camera saw her as she headed straight for the docks.

  It was time to go. The temple couldn’t do anything else for her, not here.

  Pack light, leave any time you like.

  Flynn had taught her that.

  The port was all brightness, humming engines and ion burn. It drew her like a lodestone. The charged air thrummed through her body, a fluttering second heartbeat.

  Not even the irritation of security checkpoints could kill that particular high.

  As she stepped into the scanner and dropped her bag on the plate beside her, the air stilled. But the feeling would return once she was past the control.

  She smiled sweetly at the guard. It was a foreign expression, but one that put men at ease. Gave them the false impression she was harmless.

  Women always knew it was a lie.

  The scanner was good. Caireaux didn’t want anyone running off with contraband or chemical secrets. But it wasn’t that good.

  It didn’t catch any of her weapons. Didn’t squeal about the device in her bag—data mines were illegal on this planet and forty-two others. It wasn’t even triggered by the cactus apples that didn’t meet agricultural quarantine protocols.

  If they knew how susceptible they were to Lazarai tech, the Colarium might start their war up again in a knee jerk, fear reaction.

  Blissfully unaware, the guards waved her through and wished her a pleasant and safe journey. One even went so far as to attempt a Serbalean blessing.

  He tripped over his tongue like a primary school student struggling with their ABCs, but the Great Mother only cared that one tried, and Kathrynn returned the blessing with sincerity.

  Lost in the heady sensation of the port’s night movement, she walked the short distance to the ship’s berth with her eyes half closed.

  But all of those good feelings burst like a shattered lightbulb when she stopped in front of the designated pad.

  Her ship was gone.

  Hands clenched, itching to pull the sickle from its hiding place beneath her jacket’s massive hood, though she had no use for it, she turned to the port authority’s scheduling board.

  Trey hadn’t moved berths.

  She didn’t need the dock assignments to know that. If he’d hopped stalls, he would have contacted her.

  She slammed her hand against the side access panel, more in frustration than need. The sector was empty and she was irritated enough to take the risk.

  With a yank, she tore out the aux cables, splicing and tying off as she jacked the data mine in. It took over with minimal input. The download fed her all the information for the last week.

  Trey had left less than twelve hours after dropping her on the planet.

  She yanked the wires free, tying them up and setting things to rights. Clenching her teeth against the curses her brothers had taught her—and even more she’d taught them—she zipped her bag closed and tried to focus on the feeling of the ion burn.

  Tried to let it scorch the frustration from her.

  Forcing herself to stand, she stuffed her things back in her bag and went to the checkpoint she’d just passed through.

  The guard who’d attempted a blessing gave her a confused smile.

  “The Great Mother has not blessed me tonight, it seems.” When the concern only deepened, she added, “I missed my flight.”

  She submitted to the scan again, with the same results and headed back toward the temple.

  It didn’t matter that Caireaux had nothing to do with her predicament, there was little else she could take her ire out on. And stomping the pavement didn’t draw as much attention as assaulting a peace officer harassing a helpless urchin.

  Though, she did that too.

  Twice.

  Caireaux reminded her of Capo and of Oblivion. Clean, shiny, and oddly contained.

  Where Capo was all outdoor malls and people prancing about in their overpriced clothing, Caireaux had a closeted opulence. The corporations didn’t want to flaunt their money… not when the Colarium had every opportunity to raise taxes upon public petition.

  But commerce thrived whatever the medium, and she slipped into one of the bright tunnels that claimed the name a mall on this planet.

  Twenty stores lined each side and in the middle, carousels of merchandise in capsules and boxes showed tiny products behind shielded panes of glass and quaint, crank operated pay slots.

  She walked the length of one, stepped out into the cool air of a breezeway, and into another. They were like mini express lanes, with just enough foot traffic to annoy.

  Regardless of the fact that men in branded sales suits kept trying to draw her attention, she used the walk to clear her mind.

  Until her ears pricked at the slicing sounds.

  The first salesman to lie to her got a hard look. He cowed quickly.

  The second….

  He was part of a pair. One provided most of the spiel, the other used his girth to net people in.

  The latter stepped in front of her and pressed forward, she had to backpedal to keep his stomach from touching her. If she’d had somewhere to bet, she’d place her money on a prosthesis like Archie’s. But she wasn’t so sure that she’d slip out a blade to see if it popped.

  “I don’t want what you’re shilling.”

  “How do you know!” One asked, his animation cloying. “Give us a few moments of your time and I assure you… you’ll want to take home more than just our product.”

  And now, she wished she’d taken the contacts out. Fists would work on these two, but part of her wanted to see the terror in their eyes as she drew her blades. Wanted to see them wet themselves as they ran from her.

  “Is there a problem?”

  Kathrynn froze at the too familiar voice, but so did the salesmen. They immediately gave her space, eyes wide, they professed innocence of things she wouldn’t have thought to have accused them of.

  “I didn’t think so.” Nandy moved to stand beside her, “If you harass any more patrons, I will make sure the city pulls your permits.”

  They both blanched. “Learn how to take no for an answer, or the courts will send you somewhere others will force you to say ‘yes’.”

  Taking Kathrynn’s elbow, Nandy steered her away, loudly apologizing on behalf of the company, the city, and the peace force for the way she’d been treated.

  When they cleared the doors and were, once again, out in the night air, Nandy dropped her arm and took a step back before studying her.

  She was searching—Kathrynn was more or less used to it by now—for the clue that her contacts existed. But there was no way to tell… unless she made a mistake like she had earlier.

  “I’m sorry.” Nandy’s gaze dropped as her mouth curved to a scowl. “I reacted. There are so many stories about you… about people like you.”

  “There are no people like me.”

  Serbal had said it was a one in four hundred thousand chance, but she’d never met another woman who’d turned red, and her visions hadn’t shown her a future where there was another to carry the burden. Not while she was alive, anyway.

  Serbal didn’t even know why she’d turned red. She’d been s
mart enough to not lie about it. But there were stories aplenty…. Which ones had Nandy’s panicked mind pulled forth from memory?

  “Come home with me? Or, at least, let’s get out of the streets. I have questions… and I think you’re someone who appreciates the truth… when you can give it.”

  With a nod, Kathrynn allowed her to lead the way through the city, they left the areas filled with people on business trips, medical ‘holidays’ and marking the planet off their “tour the Colarium” map. They left the areas they’d gone before, the hotels that charged by the hour, and used automated check-in for discretion.

  Nandy’s home was tucked into a corner on a housing block’s fourteenth floor. It was tight, cluttered, and the only space that looked regularly used, was the kitchen.

  Not surprising that it was where she went, as soon as she pulled her uniform jacket off and dropped her keytab in the bowl by the door.

  She didn’t speak for several minutes as she shuffled back and forth, grabbing things from shelves and the cooling unit.

  Finally, she stilled and looked up at Kathynn where she’d settled on one of the bar stools.

  “Can you really tell when someone’s lying?”

  “Yes.” Kathrynn braced for the slice. Everyone who asked her that, almost immediately tested it.

  “And see the future?” Nandy’s attention went to the cutting board where she sliced a block of protein.

  “Some of it, sometimes. But until something is set… it’s useless.

  “So you knew I was going to find you in the data tower? You knew I was going to find out…” she waved the knife in front of her face.

  “No. I only look to the future when I must. Sometimes I’m forced to see it without looking at all.” She didn’t mention the headaches that came with prolonged viewings or the odd ritual she’d stumbled on years ago. “And it’s not a science. I don’t sit down, close my eyes and search out a specific point. The Great Mother shows me what I need to see, as I need to see it.”

  Katrhynn was still sorting through the random myths and stories she’d heard about herself.

  Nandy looked down, eyes fixed on the items she was cubing. “There’s something else….”

  Kathrynn knew, she’d expected it from the moment Nandy invited her home. Knew it was coming soon, when she’d picked up the knife. It was a certainty the Great Mother hadn’t needed to show her. The question didn’t need voicing to answer. She threw in two more of the worst she’d heard questioned.

  “I have never killed a lover when I’m through with them. I don’t drink human blood, and I have never skinned a person alive.”

  Nandy winced, and Kathrynn wondered if it was in shame.

  Sliding her knife over her cutting board, Nandy pushed the protein into a burner-less skillet, and the room filled with the hard sizzle.

  Whatever Nandy was thinking, she didn’t apologize. “But you do kill people.

  That was a truth Kathrynn thought everyone already knew. “When I have to. When they deserve it.”

  The confirmation somehow put her at ease, and she focused on finishing the meal. “If the Great Mother guides you, who am I to second guess her methods.”

  Eleven - Flynn

  His wall of suspicions hadn’t gotten any smaller. The body had only muddied the proverbial waters. And while he’d have preferred to finish chasing down those leads, today’s task was one of appeasing his brother.

  If it gave him the opportunity to question some of the ACOOR people, he wouldn’t complain.

  When they drove through the terrafarm gates, the first face that greeted them, didn’t bring a smile to his.

  Flynn hadn’t expected to see Bosco again. Then, he hadn’t expected to make this trip in the first place. Phee’s absence was giving more opportunities than he expected.

  His brother hopped out of the buggy and looked around the farm like he’d never been there before… or like he’d seen it a dozen times and wanted to make sure all was as he’d last left it. Flynn didn’t have the chance to ask if it met with his approval.

  Their greeting party included the man whose ear was still ugly, but healing better than Flynn’s neck had.

  When Flynn stopped in front of him, Bosco shifted from foot to foot.

  “You need to pee?”

  Lips compressed, he shook his head, stilled. “No, sir.”

  That shut Flynn up. He hadn’t been called sir since he’d almost died, and he hadn’t liked it back then either.

  While the others were distracted by Putty’s animated explanation of his—highly unnecessary—visit, he held Bosco back.

  The man’s gaze darted back to the safety of the herd, but he didn’t try to rejoin it. “I haven’t been back to town since…” he waved his hand by the side of his head.

  Though he considered having some fun at the man’s expense, Flynn refrained. Terrifying the locals wasn’t on his long-term agenda.

  “I’m not here for you.”

  The breath he let out was loud and left him like a balloon deflating. Flynn thought he heard a muttered, “Oh thank Goddess,” but he couldn’t be sure. And he wouldn’t have taken the man for a heretic. Heressa had no temple here, as far as he knew, there wasn’t even a public shrine.

  He’d file that insight away for later. “You just happen to be a convenient tour guide.”

  Flynn turned a slow circle, looking at the expanse of fields turning the soil dark with the hope of making the world fully self-sustaining. It looked innocuous enough….

  “How about you and I take a walk. I’ve always wondered how these things work.”

  Bosco led the way through the radial path that separated the green carpets of fields underneath a honeycomb dome. But he didn’t start a lecture on their terrafarming methods.

  “You don’t really care about how we do what we do here….”

  “It’s interesting, but no, that isn’t why I’m here.”

  “I don’t want any trouble.

  “You did the other day.”

  When Bosco said nothing in his defense, Flynn asked, “Why’d you go after him? What was important enough you wound up losing—or almost losing—that ear?”

  “They’re not better than us.” The words were almost a gowl.

  Low.

  Vicious.

  Flynn knew the feeling that went with that tone. “And he suggested they were?”

  “With some choice words. That asshole has only been here for a month and he thinks he’s got some higher value because he works for RTF.

  “Is Ms. Refuti a better businesswoman than our head honcho? Yeah, and she knows it. But that asshole wouldn’t know a sunchoke from a potato.”

  “Is there a difference?”

  Bosco shot him a look that said Flynn was sinking lower on his meter of respect.

  “I’ve worked for ACOOR--here on this terrafarm--for sixteen years. This is my life, these people are my family. It’s my home. He’s a transient worker who’ll be gone within a year. I won’t let someone like him insult me, or my crew.”

  “Do they have that high of a turn over?”

  “Not usually, no.” He shook his head. “There’s something going on over there. I don’t know if it’s some sort of immigration scam, or what, but if you see an RTF employee with a yellow cuff, they’re a part of a special crew. They come and go.

  “They don’t work on the surface, and they’re too dumb to possibly be working in admin.”

  Trying to read the man’s face, Flynn considered suggesting he and Nika get together to pool their theories.

  “Are you sure they leave the planet,” Flynn asked, only half joking. “Maybe Ms. Refuti likes to play a murder game and those with a yellow cuff are the ones who get thrown into her subterranean death maze.”

  “I hope so.” Bosco scowled at the plants. “That bastard deserves some pain.”

  Flynn didn’t have room to scold anyone over seeking vengeance.

  “What about here,” Flynn asked, “Have you had any crew
influx? Anyone new ruffling feathers?”

  “Nope. This farm has been stable for three years. Our next expansion goal isn’t until we hit the next five-year mark, then we’ll break ground on the next dome, and we’ll have to bring on more people, but no one’s been hired since we hit the stability phase.”

  “No one’s left either?”

  Bosco barely bothered to shake his head. “ACOOR pays us well, and there’s a sweet retirement deal at the end of this stint for anyone who makes it 30 years. People who work here, don’t leave unless they’re forced out.”

  They’d made their way around the short circuit of the farm’s main dome and Flynn saw Putty at their buggy.

  His brother glared at the vehicle like it had broken down.

  “You ready to go?” Flynn knew the answer was no.

  The scowl on his face was a language all its own. One Flynn could easily translate.

  “I can’t find Phee.”

  “She said she was going to be gone… doesn’t her absence mean she told the truth?”

  “But this long?” Putty shook his head, muttering denials. “It’s like she’s vanished.”

  Flynn didn’t think he was making the woman up. Not really. But he knew his brother well enough he’d guess Putty had turned the charm on a little too high. Come in a little too intense.

  She was probably hiding.

  Maybe if Bosco could help plant the idea that she didn’t want to be found, Putty would work his way around to understanding it on his own. Sooner, rather than later.

  “Do you know my brother’s mystery woman?” he asked the terrafarmer.

  When Bosco looked at Putty, confused, Putty pointed at his own head.

  “Dark hair, wore it in a long tail. She’s almost as tall as I am, strong. Her eyes are a light hazel that you could lose yourself in for hours.”

  Bosco’s lips twisted in a wince. “That description might fit a lot of women who work here. Do you have a snap or vid of her?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I’ve been here long enough, I know everyone we work with and none of them are named Phee.” He smiled and Flynn saw the chipped tooth again—one that might match the mark on their dead man’s arm. “She sounds like someone I would have noticed.”