by H. E. Trent
Erin had had partial access to her house because she was programmed as a backup user on all of Court’s keys, but because Court had engaged all the deadbolts before fleeing, Erin might have had to find an alternate way in. That was why she hadn’t technically been guilty of breaking and entering. She was merely trying to access a house she had a right to be in.
Court crossed her fingers and asked her com, “Can you ping that signal?”
“Affirmative. What shall I relay?”
“No words. Just this.” She tapped out a rhythm against the speaker—the beat of a rock song Erin would have recognized. One that they’d squealed over the lyrics of more than once.
Her com beeped, and a husky whisper responded, “How are you accessing this frequency?”
Erin. Court let out a relieved-sounding breath. “Sissy, it’s me. I had to try and hoped you hadn’t taken your com from Earth off.”
“I don’t even take this thing off to shower. Where are you? Where’s the baby? Is the baby okay? Are you—”
“Hey, your niece is fine. Her name is Kerry. Don’t ask why. We’ll catch up later. Listen, I’m about to confront Reg and see if I can get him to back off from his temper tantrum. I don’t know what’s going to happen, so I need people to know what my plans are. My friend Amy is here. I’m going to send her your way.”
“Courtney, I—”
Court pressed her hand over Amy’s mouth and shook her head. “Go to Erin. I’m due to meet up with the crew from Little Gitano tonight outside your storage unit. Tell them what’s going on and where I am.” She dropped her hand. “I’m going to try to keep my com mic open.”
“And if your com gets taken away?” Erin asked.
“Uh…” Amy leaned in closer to Court’s wrist and whispered, “She has a bracelet we can use to track her. The chip isn’t readable by any technology Terrans have, and the bracelet can’t be removed without some effort. It’s fitted, and doesn’t appear to most people to be particularly valuable.”
“But you can track the chip?” Erin asked.
“Yes. It’s linked to my com.”
“Court, you can’t just walk in there and ask him to stop being a brat. That doesn’t even work in books or movies.”
“I didn’t say I was going to ask nicely,” Court said. “And what’s the worst that can happen? He’ll grab me by the hair and yank me down to City Hall? Make me sign a marriage license? I don’t think so. He wants to humiliate me, but he doesn’t realize I’m not susceptible to the condition.”
“Because you’re a McGarry.”
“Yeah. What’s a little more shame, right?”
“God, the shit we get ourselves into.”
Court relayed directions for Erin to intercept Amy. Right as she was about to sign off, Erin said, “Just so you know, I have Murki’s brother with me.”
“What?”
“Trigrian found him, and we’re both hiding in a wall panel. I’m freaking out a little, Sissy. You know how I feel about enclosed spaces.”
“Trigrian?” Court did know how Erin felt, but her concern for her sister surfaced on a delay. She was having to worry about too many loved ones at once. Erin could probably make herself so anxious that she’d vomit, and that wouldn’t be so great for her or her charge. “You’ve seen Trigrian? How is he?”
“Yup,” Erin said, “very briefly, and he was fine when I saw him. People keep entering your house, Court. Looking for me or, I don’t know what. Hiding is easier than confronting them. Esteben is…not well. I don’t know what he needs, but if Trigrian doesn’t fetch him, I’m going to have to think of some other plan. I haven’t heard from Trigrian in a few days.”
“Don’t worry. I’m going to do everything I can to get back to my baby. I’ve been away from home for two days and I left Murk with a four-day supply of milk. I’m going to handle this fast.” Or else.
“That sounds like the Court I know,” Erin said quietly.
“I wish I could be so confident.” Amy dragged her hand across her wet eyes and smeared her makeup badly.
Court pulled her into a crushing hug. “Listen, you stay friends with me long enough, and you’ll not only be fighting back, but picking a few fights, too.”
“I hope so.” She said the words so softly Court wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined them.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Court didn’t even get to the door of Reg Devin’s house before an armed guard came out of the shadows and pointed a gun at her.
Fuck.
She put up her hands and spread on her most unassuming smile. “I don’t think you’ll want to use that on me.”
“If you’re not on the visitor list, you shouldn’t be here. Mr. Devin is a busy man.”
“I’m so sure he is.” Terrorizing people and building up a personal army of evil minions probably took a great deal of his energy.
Still smiling, she gave him a nod. “I’m not here to be a distraction. I may not be on his schedule, but I imagine he’ll make time for me.”
The guard eyed her up and down. Having been on Jekh for year, she could guess what he saw. First and foremost—female. Second, Terran female. Third—she was dressed to kill. Literally.
She’d revived her Buinet habit of head-to-toe black and was dressed for function, not style. She also happened to know she didn’t look much like a farmer’s wife, especially not in shit-kicker boots. They may not have been as comfortable as Jekhan footwear, but they’d deliver much more satisfying kicks to nuts.
“Like what you see?” She couldn’t help herself. All the time spent alone on the farm had loosened her already defective verbal filter.
Oh well.
“You’ll do,” he said.
“I bet. Why don’t you go get your boss? We need to chat.”
“Maybe he’s not here.”
“Call him. He’ll come home.”
“Yeah right. He’d only come home for whores or business. Which are you?” Sneering, he locked his gaze on her upper torso.
She sighed inwardly. He might have been more respectful if he’d known she was someone’s mother, but for some reason, she doubted it. “Business.”
“Yeah? What kind of business?”
“Personal business. You’re asking way too many questions about things that are none of your concern.”
“Well, if you ain’t answering them, you ain’t getting in.”
“Fine.” She shrugged and started down the stairs. “When your boss comes home, you tell him that you turned away Courtney McGarry.” Oops. Beshni. She was halfway down the block before he responded.
“Wait! Just wait, I can get him here in fifteen minutes.”
“Nah. I’m not waiting.” She turned and gave him a dismissive wave. “If he wants to find me, tell him…”
“Tell him to meet you in Seven near the river wall,” came Amy’s voice in a hoarse whisper through Court’s com speaker.
Court coughed to justify her delay and turned back toward the guard. “Tell him to meet me in Zone Seven,” she’d called out. “I’d suggest the bakery, but that’s closed now. Pity, because they made beautiful pastries. Just tell him to meet me by the river wall, if he can stand the Jekhan stink.”
Rolling her eyes, she turned once again, and walked briskly until she was out of his visual range, and then she ran in case he changed his mind and decided to get off that porch.
“What’s the plan?” she whispered to her open com.
“Allan checked in,” came Erin’s voice. “Trig’s inside.”
“Inside where?”
“Prison. He went in after Owen and to try to find Brenna.”
“What?” Court tripped over a jut in the uneven sidewalk, but quickly corrected her gait. “You mean he was arrested?”
“No, he snuck in. He’s impersonating a prisoner. The guards there wouldn’t notice one extra reddish head because the place is packed right now.”
What Court felt over that bit of news couldn’t exactly be qualified as relief. It
sounded to her like her impulsive boy was up to his reckless antics again. She ground her palms against her eyes. “Dammit, Trigrian.”
“Allan is still on the ground with Herris.”
“Herris? Seriously?” Court spotted an oncoming vehicle and ducked down an alley just in case. She didn’t want to be apprehended before she had a chance to reach her destination. “Why would a shoemaker be with him? He should have fled with everyone else from Seven.”
“He should have, but apparently, even the mildest-mannered Jekhan men have snap-back points. He reached his.”
“Where’s his family? He had a wife and a partner. And a daughter. There were probably other children in the family as well, at least one for the other male.”
“His daughter is missing. The others are dead from some illness that’s been moving through Seven for several months. The population there was way down even before city planners cleared them out.”
“I’m guessing that’s not accidental.”
“Of course not,” Erin said, “Neither Herris nor his daughter caught whatever it was, so we’re thinking they may have natural immunity. Anyway, Herris is helping. He wants to find his daughter. She’s all he has left.”
“We’ll help him.”
“Of course we will, but one thing at a time, Sissy. Allan and Herris will be watching from a safe place near the river wall. Just make sure nothing impedes their view of you and do everything you can to keep your com open so I can relay messages to them.”
“Got it.”
Court ran.
___
Trig eased himself through the sullen masses in the barracks-style holding area and settled himself onto the unmade bed across from the man.
Owen had been easy enough to spot, in spite of the many physical dissimilarities between him and his sisters. Where they were petite, he was tall—and not waifish, either. He was as broad as Murk through the shoulders and had the same passionate glint in his pale eyes. Where his sisters were dark-haired and swarthy, Owen was paler. Dark blond hair.
Trig pegged him as a McGarry by his eyes. His posture. His expressions, that looked so much like Court’s.
Owen was thinking—calculating.
Plotting.
He stared across the gap between the beds at Trig. “You might not want to get so close, man.” He bobbed his head toward the center of the barracks. “There’s a reason people are giving me a wide berth.”
Trig scanned the room as casually as he could. A few prisoners watched their interaction with apparent interest. Some outright ogled. Jekhans, mostly. The Terran prisoners just shook their heads.
“Because you’re a McGarry?” Trig whispered. He leaned his forearms against his knees and swallowed. “They don’t want to be associated with you, right? They think they’ll get into even more trouble.”
“That about sums the situation up.”
“Well…” Trig shrugged. “The way I see things, what’s one more McGarry? I’m already living with one. What’s being friends with another going to hurt?”
Owen’s forehead furrowed. “Living with—” He pointed. “You’re one of Court’s…men.”
Trig gave a curt nod. “Lovers. Yes.” If Owen had a problem with the plural nature of their relationship, he’d just have to start getting over it as soon as convenient.
Owen whistled low. “What did you do to get in here? Does she know you’re here?”
Trig pulled his shirt up over his mouth, affected his best impersonation of a Jekhan Flu cough, and watched some of the lookie-loos drift farther away. Lips still covered, he whispered, “I’m not really here. And no, I don’t believe she knows I’m here, only that I’m in Buinet. I came in to find you.”
“Why? Court knows I can take care of myself.”
“Maybe she feels you shouldn’t have to.” Trig faked another cough. “Have you seen Brenna?”
Owen dragged a hand across his tired-looking eyes. He probably hadn’t slept well since he’d been tossed into prison. “I saw her briefly yesterday when the women prisoners were being transferred from the cafeteria back to their dorm. We couldn’t speak for long. We try not to be spotted near each other for obvious reasons.”
“How was she?”
“Scared, but holding up pretty well, all things considered. I think she’s doing better now that she knows people are actively working to help her.”
“And we will help her. I’ve been doing some scouting and estimate the prison population outnumbers the guards about twenty to one. They make it seem like there’s more of them than there are, but I know how few LEOs there actually are on the planet.”
“Are you suggesting a prison break?”
Trig shrugged. “I came in to get you and Brenna, but if we can raise a little hell and disrupt the inner workings of Buinet for a while, why not try?”
“There’d be chaos. Every man for himself.”
Trig nodded. “A second chance for some of these men. If they choose to fight, they may be doing so for the first time in their lives. If they choose to sit and be passive, that’ll be a smudge on their consciences, not mine.”
Owen leaned back onto his elbows and scanned the room around them. Most people had gone about their business, but there were still a few curious gawkers and one guard up in the control room looking down. That guard hadn’t seen Trig come in, and Trig planned on making sure the same held true on the way out, too.
“When are we doing this?” Owen asked.
“Dinner. The guards are stretched thin at mealtime.”
“Just tell me what to do.”
Trig stood slowly, performed another dry cough, and pointed his feet toward the communal bathroom. “Just keep behaving as you have been. When the time comes, you’ll know.”
___
Court kept her back to the river and leaned casually against the wall. Arms crossed, she tracked her gaze left and right and observed the characters milling about in Seven. At that time of day, the only men around were a couple of lingering cleaning and construction crews who were in the process of retrofitting buildings for waiting settlers. No one paid her any mind, but that may have had something to do with the fact that the streetlight nearest her was out, and her hood disguised her most prominent features.
A lonely figure approached from the avenue, his destination as clear as his intention. He held a pistol down at his side—left-handed—as if it were some harmless thing like an umbrella or a cup of decaf. Seemed typical of what Court thought a character like him would do, though—wave a gun around and intimidate people when his words and stature weren’t enough. He was probably used to having his way, and obviously, he hadn’t yet learned that Court wasn’t impressed.
“Twenty meters,” she whispered.
“Muting my mic,” Erin said. “Allan should be treading water below the aquifer under your feet.”
“Copy.”
“You could have picked any fucking place but this one.” Reg swiped his arm toward the zone in general and shook his head. “But I bet you feel comfortable here, huh? Being around lowlifes is in your traitorous blood.”
“Hello. Good evening. Nice to meet you, too.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you really so eager to get off on the wrong foot?”
“I thought I did that almost a year ago. With the way your little buddies on the inside were behaving, I would have thought you’d experienced some mortal wound from me taking myself off the registry.”
He scoffed. “You were never really on the registry. Not searchable, anyway. Your entry was just a way to transfer information about you between Earth and here.”
“Well, well. I’m so tickled that someone would take such an interest in me.”
His gaze tracked down her body the same way everyone else’s did. “Pity that you would have to be attractive. Such a waste.”
“I happen to know some people who would disagree, but that’s neither here nor there. Let’s hash this shit out. I want you to leave me the fuck alone. Step off and pul
l back your dogs. Leave my friends and family alone. We both know the charges my brother is being held on are as bogus as my registry entry.”
“He’s where I want him.”
“Unfortunately, we have a philosophical difference as to whether or not that’s fair. I say it isn’t, and you’re going to fix that.”
Reg’s barking laugh echoed across the river. “I’m not going to do anything. I don’t think you understand that I’m the one with power here. I do what I want. You’ll comply.”
“I understand that you’re a whiny little snot on a power trip who’ll throw a tantrum if he doesn’t get his way. You’ve overstepped. Deal with it. If all you want from me is information, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I have nothing.”
“You know where your grandfather is.”
Court pressed her hand to her chest and affected a look of surprise. “Are you implying what I think? Last I heard he was buried in County Cork, Ireland in the McGarry-Gleason family cemetery. If you’re looking for clues, perhaps start there. If conditions in space are ideal, you should be on Earth in seven months.”
His hand darted out so fast she barely had time to move to the side. He’d reached for her hood, but she smacked his hand away.
“Don’t fucking touch me. I said I’d meet you if you wanted to talk, so talk. You don’t need to touch to talk, and I’m not even sure talking is going to get us anywhere. You’re being an obnoxious shit stain over something I have nothing to do with, and you feel so good throwing your weight around, don’t you? Well, guess what? I’m not impressed.”
“After a few months locked in the dark room, you’ll be impressed.” He raised his chin defiantly. “You’ll beg for my company, and I’ll have the last laugh because I’ll take great pleasure in withholding it.” He stepped in closer and she leaned to the side before his lips could touch her ear. He chuckled. “When you’re so confused and defeated and have no hope of anything including whether you’ll live to see the next morning, that’s when I’ll come to you. You’ll beg for my touch.”
Court’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, okay, no. I have all the touch I need in my life.” And a baby and farm to get home to. She was Court 2.0.