Last Man Out (Poor Man's Fight Book 5)

by Elliott Kay

  “That was my first thought,” said Naomi. “They all turned me down. Seniors, too. I even tried a few who aren’t already signed up for the expedition. Told them my assistant is all paid for by the grant. No takers.”

  “Hm. I suppose that shouldn’t be a surprise.” He reached outside the projection only to pull his hand back now holding a champagne flute. Vandenberg nodded politely at whatever server had delivered the glass. It was apparently a lovely reception, wherever he was. “Terrible luck,” he muttered as if to reassure Naomi of his attention.

  “I looked over the task list again to see if I could spread the assistant duties around with other students,” she went on. “It could work, but I’m pretty sure most of them will flip out at taking on added responsibilities.”

  “Hmm. Yes. It seems likely. Everyone will want to focus on their own research and guard whatever free time they have left. You know how students are.”

  She nodded. Naomi also understood how professors could be, which precluded any hopes of Vandenberg stepping up to help. That understanding gave her other concerns, too. “Professor, about that travel warning. I’ve read it.”

  “Oh, those things are always written with the harshest language,” he scoffed. “That’s the whole point. They’re meant to scare people out of going. I guarantee some of the dangers listed in that warning will come as some surprise to the people actually living on Minos. The rest is common anywhere. Every world has crime. Yet every world keeps turning.”

  “Not every world has an active insurgency,” ventured Naomi. “Or pirates.”

  “Rubbish. An ‘insurgency’ can be five petty crooks with a political slogan in their repertoire of vandalism. And I’m not worried about pirates. We’ve hired a solid professional outfit to get us there and back. You made those arrangements yourself, and I reviewed them.

  “We’re only a small university field school. We’re not a big score for thieves. And the last thing we want is an escort or a protection detail. Our best defense is our low profile,” he finished, quietly but emphatically. He even winked.

  Naomi held back a sigh. “Anyway, about Russell,” she began again.

  “Naomi, I sympathize, but this is part of the test of being a field leader,” Vandenberg cut her off. “These things happen. It’s part of the challenge of leadership. You have full authority to hire whomever you want. If you decide to handle it some other way, that will be your call to make as well. I have perfect faith in you. But I should go.”

  “Yeah,” she said, slowly letting out the breath she’d saved for the pitch of her next idea. “I’ll see you tomorrow, professor.”

  “Just so. Goodnight.” His image vanished from her living room.

  “He doesn’t sound like much help,” said Danielle from the chair to her right. She had a holo screen of her own up, though it presented only text and a few graphs.

  “He’s a teacher,” said Naomi. “He wants me to solve the problem myself. It’s what teachers do. And this one is brilliant and experienced, so I have to figure he knows what he’s doing.”

  “Are you trying to convince me, or are you trying to push yourself with some tough love? Anyway, isn’t he less the ‘teaching’ sort of professor and more the ‘research and publish’ sort?”

  “He’s still in charge,” Naomi muttered. She sat up again to look at the other holo screens laid out across the table. Her position as a seminar instructor gave her wide access to university records. Somewhere amid the rosters and transcripts, she had to find a solution. “I’m sorry about this,” she apologized once more. “You probably wanted to look at wedding venues, didn’t you?”

  “We’ll deal with that when this stuff is all over,” said Danielle. “But Russell is off the invitation list. Your professor, too, if you come back to me an even bigger ball of stress than you are right now. Or if I wind up with some anxiety disorder while you’re gone.”

  “It’s not going to be that bad, Dani.” Six hours after reading the travel warning, she almost had herself convinced, too.

  Then Danielle had to bring in details. “The prospectus for this mercenary group they have on Minos isn’t giving me a lot of confidence.”

  “The—wait, you’re looking at a prospectus? For who?”

  “Precision Solutions. The guys Minos Enterprises hired for defense. I don’t know anything about military companies, but I know how to read between the lines of business documents. This company is all about putting the client first. Lots of companies use that sort of language, but not public service contractors. They put the public first, or at least that’s what they tell everyone. These guys don’t even do that much. It’s all client loyalty all the way down. And if they’ve got high crime rates and an insurgency going on?” Danielle frowned. “This isn’t a public service contractor. This is a goon squad. I don’t know what’s worse, facing a criminal or calling these guys for help.”

  “Dani. I have to do this,” said Naomi.

  “I know. I’m not trying to convince you,” said her fiancée. “I’m thinking a big wedding may not be the best use of my hiring bonus. I’d rather hire you a bodyguard. Somebody who knows how to handle this kind of nonsense.”

  Naomi opened her mouth to speak, but an idea closed it. She turned to the screens full of university records. Thoughts rushed in: It was absurd, wasn’t it? Too obvious. Bound to be impractical. Problematic, to be sure.

  “What are you thinking?” Dani asked, watching her closely.

  Naomi didn’t answer. She reached for the screens to key in new search terms. He came up on her screens instantly.

  * * *

  “I’ve got him,” reported Chris. “Walking back into the neighborhood. Taking a different path than the last time, like he usually does. I think he’s checking things out before going inside.”

  Everything in the hotel suite stopped with the first words of his report. Yanis froze the game on the entertainment suite. Mickey looked up from his holo novel. Troy sat up from the reclining seat, paying close attention like the rest.

  Jim was on the couch beside Yanis, watching the game until the call came. Now things were all business. “Any sign he’s being followed?” Jim asked. “Any police tail?”

  “Not so far. The neighborhood is quiet. There hasn’t been a police patrol through here since this morning. It makes sense. This place is sleepy on the weekends.”

  “Okay.” Jim left the connection open for any surveillance updates or details Chris might share. His eyes turned to the rest of the team. “Suit up.”

  * * *

  Tanner lingered to watch Phoenix lift off, standing behind the transparent doors leading to the landing pad. The ship floated high into the sky under antigrav and maneuvering jets before the main thrusters fired. In seconds, she was gone.

  He took a long way home. The city cooled with sunset but remained pleasant into the evening. It was a night worth staying out for the sake of stretching the weekend as far as possible…for those with anything to do, or more importantly, anyone to see.

  Paradise meant less without anyone to share it.

  Glum thoughts accompanied him on the way home. He wasn’t so far into his mood that he forgot what happened last time: Tanner walked warily around his building, watching it and the rooftops for snipers, lookouts, drones, or anything else out of the ordinary. He almost preferred this to his feelings. Better to stay distracted while his emotions processed in the background.

  Nothing seemed out of place. The neighborhood was appropriately quiet. Rounding the workshop and checking its entrances, Tanner found every little secret marker still in place. None of the dust at the doors had been disturbed. The security system showed no entries on his holocom since he’d been home, though he took for granted that anyone coming to kill him would probably find a way around that.

  As usual, message notifications came up with the first menu screen on his holocom. He only had one since leaving the Phoenix. Naomi marked it, “Please call when you can.” He wondered what that could be abo
ut, but he had a bigger concern in front of him. Even with all of the boxes marked on the “Probably Not Going to Die Now” checklist, he still had to face the final moment of truth.

  He stood behind a hovertruck parked on the other side of the street and opened the workshop garage door using his holocom. Nothing exploded. The street remained quiet. Frowning at his own paranoia—and the necessity of it—Tanner walked across the street, stopped halfway, and returned to the truck to close the door again. If I was a really clever bomber, I’d rig it to blow after the target was inside, he thought.

  …and then scowled even more. The interior of the garage looked perfectly normal while the doors were open. Nothing happened when the door shut, because of course not.

  “God damn it,” he muttered. “This is ridiculous.” He tapped the holocom to open the door again and walked inside.

  He hadn’t felt this way all weekend. As long as he was among old friends, be it out on the town or in the privacy of Lynette’s cabin, he felt relaxed. Safe, even. Perhaps it was a matter of shared experience. They’d all been through a war together. He knew he could rely on them if things got crazy. Yet even out at restaurants or enjoying the beach and the cove with Lynette, Tanner didn’t look over his shoulder. He didn’t worry about this stuff. Alone, things felt entirely different.

  Pride and frustration kept him from making a full tactical entry on his own home. He still stopped and looked at every corner before proceeding. The workshop lay dark and undisturbed, as did his apartment at the top. No one jumped out at him. His warning systems all worked as designed, particularly in the case of Nobody Broke In Over the Weekend, So Stop It.

  He turned on the lights to his loft. Still nothing. None of his cheap furniture was out of place. No monsters crawled out from beneath the couch. Nothing exploded—not even the literal explosives. The bedspread sat over the lumps on his mattress as the world’s least imaginative camouflage.

  Tanner sighed. He hated being this careful. He also knew how stupid he would feel if he or someone else got hurt over some simple step he was too proud or too lazy to take.

  “Paranoia is such a pain in the ass,” he grumbled.

  The thought reminded him of the message on his holocom. He recalled Naomi’s note as a simple, blue-white projection. The full text didn’t elaborate much. “Please call me when you can. I’ve had something urgent come up with the university and I’d rather deal with it before class tomorrow. Don’t worry if it’s late.”

  It wasn’t late. Odd for talking to instructors, but not late. He keyed up a chat connection. Seconds later, her image appeared in the air within arm’s reach. “Tanner, hello. Thank you for calling,” she said. “I’m sorry to bother you on the weekend. Am I interrupting anything?”

  “Not so much, no. What’s going on?” He noted a little tension and hesitation, but nothing to set off alarms.

  “Like I said, it’s university stuff. I’ve had something come up with the schedule and I need to speak with you about it. I would appreciate it if we could talk in person rather than over a holo. Can we meet somewhere for coffee?” she ventured. “Tonight?”

  “Yeah.” Tanner shrugged. “I’m free now. Did you have someplace in mind?”

  “I didn’t, actually,” she realized. “Where would be good for you?”

  That clinched it. An ambush would be planned, luring him to a specific spot, and—oh for fuck’s sake, stop, he told himself. She’s been at the university for at least six years. She’s not a spy.

  Besides, it beat moping about his girlfriend leaving town again.

  Chapter Five:

  Initiative

  “The Union of Humanity exists by balancing mutual defense against the sovereignty of planetary and multi-system governments. The sole authority over defense and diplomacy with alien species rests with the Union Assembly. Even research on alien matters is governed by strict rules for reporting and oversight. On almost all else, from trade to human rights, the Articles of Union are silent.”

  --Political Science: An Introduction, May 2280

  Angelo’s Coffee hosted only a handful of customers at this hour, split between the street-side patio and the shop’s comfortable, softly-lit interior. Though the offerings were good, little of Angelo’s menu rose beyond what could be quickly delivered anywhere. Tanner preferred going out to get things. Delivery via drone or live human presented problems for him that normal people didn’t have to deal with. He could still go to a coffee shop like a normal person, though. He didn’t even have to look over his shoulder.

  The thought only occurred to him as he did just that, of course. He bit back an annoyed scowl and entered, by an act of will, the coffee shop of real wood and pleasant scents like any normal person would.

  Naomi waved from a booth near the back corner. She was alone, occupied by a couple of holo screens she killed as soon as they made eye contact. The collared blue shirt and slacks would have fit her usual style for teaching at the university, if slightly less formal. The open seat would leave him with his back to the entrance. He decided to suck it up despite the risks. God forbid, the servers might not see him right away. Or it might put him out of reach from the napkins. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” he said.

  “Not at all,” she said. “I’m habitually early. Or I try to be, anyway. Lately things with my doctoral program leave me feeling like I’m always behind.”

  “It doesn’t show.” Tanner tapped the small, dimly-glowing red button embedded in the oak table to call up the holo for the shop’s menu. His order took only seconds to file.

  “Decaf?” Naomi grinned. “The mocha I get, but what’s the point without the caffeine?”

  “I’m better off without anything to ramp up my nerves,” he explained. “A therapist once told me to listen to my body. Caffeine only confuses it.”

  “Oh. Right.” Her lips pressed together tightly, both hands curling around her mug. If the meeting wasn’t awkward for its timing or their relationship as instructor and student, it seemed to have become so now. “Listen, I… I wanted to say, before I get to anything else, I’m sorry about what happened at school the other day. Somebody should’ve been there to help.”

  “You were there. Campus safety was there, too. Honestly, if I wanted to duck the whole thing to begin with, I know how to lie low. I could’ve tried, anyway.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Sometimes I do. Sometimes I get tired of the bullshit.” Tanner shrugged. “Sometimes the bullshit wins. You can stand up, but there’s always a cost. Anyway, if anything, I should say thanks for stepping in. It helped.”

  “Okay. That’s been weighing on me because of what I wanted to talk about. I don’t want you to think any of that was conditional. You’re a student and that whole mess was out of hand. It was part of my job as an instructor.”

  His mouth cracked in a half-grin. “They don’t all see it that way.”

  “True,” Naomi agreed soberly. “Anyway. I’m not here to call in any favors. Nothing owed.”

  “Okay?”

  She took a deep breath. “What do you know about Minos? And the field school expedition?”

  “It’s on the edge of Union space near the split between the Nyuyinaro and the Krokinthians. It had a big stone tech society hundreds of years ago, but they were wiped out by a huge volcanic incident. Now there’s a corporate government and two generations of colonists under predatory settlement contracts. The crystals they mine and process there make all the best holocoms and data chips.

  “I can’t say I’ve looked into the field school. No way could I afford something like that.” He shrugged. “You’re Vandenberg’s assistant expedition leader, right?”

  “Yeah. That means I handle most of the logistics on top of all my own research. Vandenberg is the official expedition leader, but I’m the one managing everything and taking care of the details. This trip finishes up everything I need for my PhD, and it takes care of a few professional certifications. I’ll get my name on whatever
book or journal articles come out of the whole thing, too. Overall it should mean a lot for my résumé.”

  “What’s your dissertation topic?”

  “It’s on the interference Minoan geology creates for ground-penetrating archaeological scans and mapping,” she said. “It’s why Vandenberg picked me as his assistant. My master’s is in geology and I’ve got a dual undergrad in geology and xenoarchaeology. That made me ideal for the job.”

  “Sounds like a lot of pressure,” said Tanner.

  “It is. I’ve been doing fine so far, but until now I’ve had an assistant of my own. Russell, one of the seniors in the department, was working for me…until he dropped out the other day. Now I need a new assistant. I’m hoping you’ll be interested in the job.”

  “Me?” Tanner blinked. “I’m only a freshman. I’m in the intro class. Why me?”

  “The only prerequisite listed by the university is the intro class. With your current standing, you could take a nap during the final and still get a passing grade. Everything else is at the leadership’s discretion—meaning mine. I think you’d be an excellent fit.”

  “I’m not a xenoarchaeology major. I’m not even pursuing it as a minor.”

  “No, but you bring a lot to the table apart from all that.”

  His brow furrowed. Naomi’s answer seemed careful. Hesitant. Almost reluctant. “How many other people have you asked?”

  “Eight,” she admitted.

  “How many other students are going?”

  “Twelve, and most of them aren’t the ones I asked. Look, I had this all wrapped up until two days ago. We leave for Minos the week after finals. I stressed out when Russell quit, so I jumped at all the most obvious options first. When I started thinking outside that box, I looked at your transcripts and your academic plan. You’d be a great fit. You want to go into planetary survey work, right?”

  “Yeah, as an ecologist. Maybe bio. Life sciences, not xenoarchaeology.”