by H. E. Trent
“What else does the bracelet do?” he asked.
“Confuses the tracking portals. She can walk between zones—or out of Buinet itself—without being noticed by the computers.”
“Why would you do such a thing for her?”
“Helping is a very Jekhan thing, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but…she’s Terran.”
“She’s my friend,” she said softly. “I don’t have many left.”
Of course.
Murk typed out one more note for Trig to relay.
“Again, who are you?”
She sighed. “My name is Emania Mauren. Please don’t tell anyone you’ve spoken to me.” She disconnected.
Trig stared at the sleeping com panel, agape.
The Maurens were supposed to be dead. Apparently, someone had forgotten about the minister’s only daughter—a woman pale enough to pass for human. Obviously, she did, and she’d made herself an ally of Murk’s Terran.
She was either bold, or crazy. Possibly both. She certainly was no typical Jekhan woman, but she’d probably had to learn not to be.
Murk gave Trig a pat on the back and nodded toward the kitchen.
They had work to do. Whether she was ready to go or not, as soon as Courtney got home, they needed to go. Murk wasn’t going to wait around for something to happen—wasn’t going to wait for someone else to land the first blow. Jekhans were too passive in that regard. It was a wonder the race had survived for even a century.
It was high time they evolved. Amy was proof that they could.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Court stopped to assist a pregnant young Jekhan woman who was hauling plastic-covered uniforms out of the police station. Her tear-stained face bore evidence of abuse. Her busted lip. The broken capillaries in her eyes. The bruises along her orbital bones. The hurt wasn’t new, but fresh enough to see.
Court grabbed half of the tangled hangers from her, scooping the garments up before they fell onto the rain-slicked street. “Where are you headed?”
The woman flinched.
“Hey,” Court said, holding out a soothing hand. “It’s all right. My uniform doesn’t mean anything. This is just a job. How can I help you?”
“I…I don’t need any help. Thank you.” The lady tried to grab back the hangers, but Court held them close. If she didn’t help, the woman would need to make a second trip and she’d like to spare her the trauma of going back into that chauvinist pigpen.
Court looked down at the embroidered name on the topmost uniform and rolled her eyes. Festus. Probably getting his uniforms cleaned on the station’s dime instead of washing them at home. Her gaze tracked up to the young woman, who seemed to be staring down at Court’s wrist.
“What? The bracelet?”
The woman nodded slowly.
“A friend gave it to me.”
The laundress pulled her lip between her teeth and shifted the bulky weight in her arms.
“So, how far are you going? Out to Seven? That’s a long walk with all this stuff.”
“No, I don’t live in Seven anymore. I…live nearby.”
“So, you work for someone. A settler.”
She nodded, but wouldn’t meet Court’s gaze.
“That settler lets you do work on the side?”
“Not exactly.” Her voice was practically a whisper, and her eyes remained focused on the sidewalk.
Court started them walking toward the residential area. She was due to have lunch and that was why she’d been in front of the station in the first place, but she could wait half an hour to scarf down saltines. Spreading a little goodwill was more important at the moment.
The woman followed after a long pause. “You’re going to get in trouble.”
“Just one more thing to get in trouble for,” Court said sunnily. “I’m a McGarry. Besides, I’m on my lunch break. I left my sack lunch at home, so I’m at the mercy of whatever comes out of the machine in the cafeteria. I’m dying for some carbs.”
“Can’t say I know the feeling.” The laundress rounded the corner onto Masters Avenue—a long stretch of road lined with young Terran oaks and dotted with empty shops and restaurants all set for new renters. A few of the more senior officers had homes along Masters, as the street had been amongst the first to be developed.
“So…are you from Buinet originally?” Court sifted through the pile of uniforms and noted the other five names on the tags. Memorized them. At least three were married, or pretty damned close to married, and she knew for a fact their women didn’t work. Hard to with all the kids they had. Also, Salehi and Carter.
She took so long that Court didn’t think she was going to answer. Half a block.
“No. I grew up on the southern continent. Way down at the bottom.”
“How the heck did you get all the way up here?”
“My father was a scientist involved in the space outreach program.”
“Oh.” Court’s stomach dropped as though she’d swallowed lead weights. She could already guess what had happened. He was either in a jail or he was dead. Probably, the rest of her family was, too. She had to have been very young at the time of the conflict.
Court cleared her throat. “I haven’t seen enough Jekhans to be able to discern how people from different parts of the planet differ.”
“I guess there are some cultural differences from place to place, but we’ve been a global society since before the last group of Romani were brought here to broaden the gene pool.”
“That was a very long time ago.”
She nodded.
Court’s work com beeped. “McGarry, where are you?” Festus barked.
The laundress tripped, only managing to stay upright with her hugely swollen belly because there was a tree trunk nearby for her to grab.
Court draped her stack of uniforms over a picket fence, and then examined the woman’s palms. She knocked off the bits of bark and deemed them fine enough.
“McGarry!” he bleated.
“Answer him! He doesn’t like to wait,” the woman whispered, her dark sienna eyes manically wide.
Court sighed and tapped the com. “Sir?”
“Where are you?”
“On lunch, Sir.”
“You’re not in the station.”
No shit, Sherlock. “No, sir, I’m not.”
“Where are you?”
She gritted her teeth. “On lunch, Sir.”
“You need to get back here.”
“Why, Sir?”
Red bloomed in the young woman’s cheeks.
Court mouthed, “What’s wrong?”
The woman mouthed back, “Go!”
Court shook her head. He could wait. It wasn’t like she was going to finally get assigned a real beat.
“Need to see you in my office,” Festus said.
“I’ll see you there in fifty minutes.”
“No, you’ll see me here right now. Don’t keep me waiting.” The com beeped as he disconnected.
“Shit for brains,” she muttered.
The laundress sniffed. “That’s kind of you to say.”
“Oh, so you know him well? How much farther do you need to go?”
She nodded up the block. “Two doors.”
Court picked up the uniforms from the fence. “Festus can wait.”
“He’ll be angry.”
“Yep. But, I haven’t broken any rules, so he can suck it.”
“Wish I could tell him the same.”
“Tell whoever you work for that you don’t want to deal with him anymore.”
“I would if I weren’t living with him. Festus.”
“Shit. Are you serious?”
“I didn’t really have a choice. I could either go with him or get sent away with the others, and I don’t know where they go. They never come back.”
Court forced down a swallow and glanced both ways down the street to ensure they weren’t being watched. “You mean the other women? The missing ones?’
The lady nodded. “I was afraid. He watches me. Has me…tracked.”
“Goddamn him. Seriously.” Pausing in front of a half-dead tree, Court had a thought—a sickening one. “Is that…his kid?”
The laundress didn’t answer. Just turned onto the walkway of what must have been Fetus’s house.
“I could kill him. I could fucking kill him.”
“Won’t do you any good,” the girl said. “There’ll just be one more ready to take his place. There’s no hope for me.” She waved her keycard across the lock and the door clicked open. “Thanks for helping me. Things’ll be easier after the baby is born. They’ll probably take it.”
She sounded so resigned—so matter-of-fact. As if she hadn’t even let herself get attached and the child was very nearly ready to meet the world. Court wasn’t nearly as pregnant, but she couldn’t imagine not anticipating her baby’s birth and watching him or her grow up.
But, Court had been on Jekh for less than two months. The young woman had had a lot longer to skew her thinking. The very worst part was that Court didn’t think there was anything she could do for the woman at the moment.
The door closed behind the woman, and Court turned on her heel to head back to the station.
The whirring of an electronic vehicle to her left alerted her to a witness, but she didn’t turn to look. Just kept walking. She didn’t care who saw her. She was in uniform and keeping her nose clean, more or less.
“Need a lift?” came the familiar voice.
Grinding her teeth, Court turned. She should have known her day could only go downhill.
Tim waved through his open window.
She gave him a curt wave back and kept walking.
“Got plenty of room,” he said.
“I’m glad for you.”
“Get in.”
“I’m not going far. Just back to the station.”
“That’s three blocks.”
“Basic counting is a part of my skill set, believe it or not. Need to know how many bullets I have on me at any given time.”
He laughed one of those dry, mirthless laughs that did the opposite of putting the second party at ease.
Court quickened her pace and tapped out a discreet rhythm on her com band. She hadn’t tried using that particular activation sequence before. In theory, it was supposed to link to her com at home. The men would be able to hear her. They wouldn’t be able to do anything for her, but at least they’d know if something had happened. Maybe she was being overcautious, but Tim wasn’t on her short list of people to trust—not since she’d found him inside her house.
“I’d get in if I were you,” he said.
At his hostile tone, she did turn to look at him, and she didn’t like what she saw.
His lips were stretched into a tight, pale line and he held a pulse pistol at the end of his outstretched right arm. That civilian model wouldn’t kill her, but the burns would probably make her wish it had.
She stopped moving, guarded her belly with one arm and reached for her gun with her other hand.
“Nope.” He sent out warning bolt to a nearby tree and singed the bark.
She pulled her hand free of her weapon. “Okay. Take it easy.”
He tipped his head toward the passenger door. “That’s right. You don’t want to hurt your little bastard, do you? This thing would make scrambled eggs out of whatever you’re carrying. Come on and get in. We’ll have a little talk and I’ll drop you off right in front of the station.”
“What do you want, Tim?”
“Just passing on a message.” He spread on that grin she’d finally decided was phony as a wooden nickel. “Private one. Not meant to be overheard.”
She glanced around at the quiet houses behind her. Not a person in sight.
He cleared his throat and leveled the pistol at her again. “Need more incentive?”
She walked to the door and yanked it open. She hoped Murk and Trig were catching what was happening.
“Thatta girl.” He smacked the door locks down and took off before she could change her mind. Steering one-handed, he kept the pistol locked in her direction and divided his attention between her and the road.
“What do you want, Tim?”
“You ought to show some appreciation. I’m here to make you a deal.”
“What sort of deal? What could you possibly do for me?”
He clucked his tongue. “You’re wrong to underestimate me. I’ve got resources. Clout. I’ve been on Jekh for three years.”
“Hooray for you.”
“Go ahead and run your mouth now, but you’ll wish you hadn’t later.” At the corner, he turned left toward the warehouse district and set auto navigation to circle the block.
With his attention fully on her, sharp coldness tracked through her veins. She wasn’t afraid for herself. She had others to worry about. She’d told Trigrian she’d take care of him, and she’d meant to keep her promise.
“You made a big mess, you know that?” Tim said. “You picked the wrong guy to sleep around on, and he’s fuckin’ mad. Adultery is illegal in most of the cities. Did you know that?”
“Who committed adultery?”
“I could argue that what you did was close enough, but that wouldn’t be necessary. See, I have enough clout that I could just pick a name. Say some married guy knocked you up and get you detained. Even if your cop buddies knew it wasn’t true, they’d back me up. ’Cause I’ve got clout.”
He’d said the word three times, so either he was right or just thought he was. That was enough to make him dangerous.
“Why would you do such a thing?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Money’s important, but around here, you get the upper hand by being smart. I’m being smart.”
“In what way?”
He moved the pistol to his left hand and reached across the seat with his right. His fingers closed over her knee and pressed upward.
Rage mounted in her, souring her gut as he neared her apex. Fortunately, he stopped at the middle of her thigh. He cocked his head and made a swirling motion with his gun. “Lots of ways. But nobody else thought of this, I bet.”
“Thought of what?” If she could get him to say it out loud, the men would know what kind of threat she was dealing with.
“Simple. Marry me today and I won’t turn you in.”
In your dreams. “Did you forget that quickly about Reg?”
“I’ll tell him that’s my kid. He’ll be pissed, yeah, but he should have been here, right?” He began moving that hand up her thigh again.
Her entire body froze under his touch. Normally, her response would have been quick and instinctive, but she’d gotten slower. She had to put a harness on her reactions because she wasn’t the only person at risk. Sticking her own neck out would be one thing, but she had a baby to consider—one she wasn’t going to let anyone take from her.
“I’ll just pay him off. Whatever he paid to get to you on the registry, I’ll pay back. Plus interest. He’ll see the wisdom of taking the offer especially since he made such a bad pick in the first place. You’re just a high-priced whore, aren’t you?”
Court gritted her teeth and suppressed a scoff. Ten years prior, she might have already lobbed a fist toward his smug mouth. She liked to think she had gotten a lot smarter in ten years, but damned if that compulsion wasn’t flaring up. She unclenched her hands, and then pressed them onto her lap.
“I guess that’s to be expected coming from a family like yours. You’re tainted goods. Only good for one thing. Well, I hope you’re good at that one thing.” He laughed and shifted in his seat, turning his knees toward hers. He spread his legs and pointed between them with his gun. “Why don’t you do a little audition for me? Let me see if you’re worth the trouble.”
“I’m not touching you.” That should have been obvious. She said it more to have the objection on record than for Tim’s sake. Murk and Trig couldn’t see what was going on, but she could narrate her circumstances the be
st she could.
“It’s all right. I won’t tell anyone. Doesn’t even matter if anyone sees, because these little trysts happen all the time around here. So few women on the planet, we’ve gotta share sometimes. Take the scraps that are thrown our way. They should have taken my advice and brought some sex workers in the last shuttle, but…” He picked up her hand and pressed her palm to the inside of his thigh. “You’ll do.”
She tried to draw back her hand, but he brought the butt of his gun down hard against her wrist and pinned it, clucking his tongue. “I said you’ll do.”
“Okay! Stop, that hurts.”
He pressed his free hand to the back of her head and pushed her down toward his lap, and that old instinct flared up, refusing to be suppressed any longer.
She pushed up hard, and as her spine hit the seat back and his arm recoiled, she slung out her arm and punched him in the throat.
He clawed at his neck, gasping, and turning purple.
She switched off the auto-steer, unlocked the doors, yanked the wheel toward the left, and jumped out of the car moments before it crashed into the brick front of the currency exchange building.
She hit the ground, rolling, her uniform ripping and skin rending against the asphalt as friction did its job. As soon as she could tell which way was up, she scrambled to her feet and took off running toward home. Sparing one glance back, she saw the car’s hood was half compressed and Tim slumped over the steering wheel.
Maybe he was okay. Maybe not.
Adrenaline didn’t let her care one way or another.
People started filing out from nearby buildings, looking and then running, likely to provide assistance, but she kept running.
She gave her com another double tap to activate the speaker. “Trig?”
“Courtney, are you all right? What just happened to you?”
She swallowed hard and dug deep to kick up even more speed. “Can’t talk. We need to go.”
“I understand.” The connection closed with a click.
Adrenaline crashed.
She could hardly see where she was running for the sobbing.
Why did I come to this fucking place?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Trig took the knives out of Court’s shaking hands and piled them into the duffel bag. He hated feeling so useless, and it was a feeling he was far too familiar with having witnessed Murk’s recent debilitation. He hadn’t been able to protect her from Tim—hadn’t even predicted such a thing could happen to her. For the first time, he knew true rage. The kind of murderous anger that would send a man over the edge and make him fight for vengeance at any cost. Even when his own life had been at risk and he’d been two inches away from being cremated where he stood, he hadn’t felt so angry. Murk had, though. That was the night he’d killed that guard who’d tried to incinerate Trig with that damned rifle. He hadn’t done anything wrong except to refuse to hand his pack to him for inspection. What had been in that pack was all Trig had left, and he’d hesitated a moment too long. The guard was impatient. He’d started pulling the trigger at the same time Murk cracked his skull with the guard’s own baton.