by Mark Wandrey
“Oh, very busy,” he said with thick sarcastic tones. “Overseeing nine islands with a combined population of less than 500 has to be a 24/7 job.”
“Glad you understa—” The woman looked up and saw the bored/disgusted look on Murdock’s face, and her own turned bright red. “Who are you, anyway?”
“Abe Murdock,” he said, “mayor of Tahiti.”
“Where?”
“You apes call it Calmway Island, but you’re about the only ones who do.”
She looked down at a slate and took about four times longer than even Murdock would have taken to find the information. “You are Mayor Murdock?” she asked skeptically.
“Yup!” he said, throwing back his chest and shooting her a huge grin.
There wasn’t much about his job as mayor he liked; harassing the bureaucrats on Atlantis was one, at least. They’d lodged an official protest against the island population when he was elected. They’d said it wasn’t proper to elect a suspected terrorist to the position of mayor. The citizens of Tahiti had all signed a letter saying they didn’t believe it was proper that Valais was being run by a government suspected of terrorism against its own citizens. Nothing more had been said on the matter.
The woman looked back and forth from her slate to Murdock several times before pushing a button and speaking. “Mayor Murdock from Calmway Island is here to see you.”
“Send him in, please,” the voice responded.
“Go right in,” she said, “office—”
“I know the way,” he said, and smirked again. “Come along, Vince. We need to continue your lessons on ineffective government.” The woman turned redder as Vince got up from his seat carrying several packages and walked by her, seeming to study the lady in intimate detail, as if she were a specimen on a lab table. For some reason, she looked rather offended.
Murdock opened the office door and walked in. Ms. Melvic was one of the few bureaucrats on Valais he didn’t mind working with. She was like Sharp, an original colonist, and she wasn’t happy with the direction the government was going. Like most, she couldn’t do anything about it.
“Hi, Murdock,” she said, and gestured to one of the two ragged chairs in her office. “Hi, Vince, you doing ok?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. She slid open a drawer on her desk and nodded her head toward it. The kid leaned over, found a candy to his liking, and helped himself. She smiled. Murdock shrugged, if the kid ate too much sugar, he’d get sick and learn a lesson.
“How’s things on Tahiti?” Melvic asked.
“Fine,” Murdock replied and set a chip on her desk. She took it and plugged the device into her desktop slate.
“Mr. Goodwin’s health is continuing to deteriorate,” she noted.
“Well, it happens when you pass ninety,” Murdock said dryly.
“You’re close to eighty,” she pointed out.
“I had more access to nano treatments.”
“Those ones I’ve heard about by Avander?” He nodded. “I’ve wanted to learn more about those.”
“I got a couple rounds as a favor back when he was first developing them.”
She nodded and looked back up at him. “How are you doing, Mayor?”
“Please don’t call me that,” he asked.
She grinned again. “You just look particularly happy today. Recovered from your injuries in that incident?”
“Is that what you’re calling it?”
“That’s what some of us call it. Others call it an act of terrorism. Still others a mystery.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. The current crop of political leaders are displeased with what you did. This pleases me.” She gave him a wink. “Life goes on. Do you need anything on Tahiti?”
“Not really,” he said. “As you can see, the F11 in the reactor will be good for another three years at the current output. Haven’t needed the medical supplies. Life goes on.”
“Okay,” she said and made an entry in her computer. “Good to see you.”
Murdock got up to go, then stopped and looked back at her. “These reports can be emailed in just as well. Why do you coordinators insist on seeing us in person?” he asked.
“Goes back to the founding of Valais,” she explained. “They wanted to be sure we were more of a family, less of a bureaucracy.”
“Surprised these new leaders haven’t changed that,” he noted.
“They did,” she said, “officially. I’ve chosen to ignore that decree. Take care, Murdock.”
“Murdock?” Vince asked, once they were outside.
“Yeah kid?” The afternoon sun was now high in the sky, and he was gratefully walking away from the government complex.
“Why did Ms. Melvic break the new rule about sending updates by email?”
“She doesn’t like the government.”
The young boy looked up at him and made a confused face. “But she is the government.”
“No,” Murdock explained, “she just works for it.”
“Can’t she find a different job if she doesn’t like what they’re doing?”
“Melvic came to Valais when she was about your age,” Murdock said. “She believed in what they were doing here, and she’s worked for it her whole life. Can you see why she wouldn’t want to just quit?”
“Yeah,” Vince said, looking down at the road as they walked, “I suppose.”
Murdock nodded and happened to glance to the side. There was a man who looked away from him a little too pointedly. Murdock slowed his pace and glanced that way again. The guy was maybe forty, Caucasian, with a light complexion and dark brown hair. He wasn’t wearing a hat and was paying pointed attention to the slate in his hand as he stood beside a tea cart, one of a dozen such establishments which tended to gather around busy areas. Something about the man’s face clicked as familiar in the back of Murdock’s mind.
He was a block away when he gently moved the kid into the doorway of a computer slate seller. “Hey, Vince, go back to the skiff and wait for me.”
“Why, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he said, probably, he thought. “I have a couple adult things to do, and you can’t be around.”
“You’re gonna shoot someone?”
“Kinda hard without a gun,” he said. It was true, and he was regretting it. “You do as I say, okay?”
“Okay,” Vince said and started toward the docks, “but you better not shoot anyone!” A young couple walking hand in hand missed a step when they heard what Vince said, both looking from the boy to Murdock in alarm.
“Kids,” Murdock said, and chuckled. Of course, Murdock looked like a Tri-V villain on his good days, so the laugh only made him more sinister. The pair accelerated away, and he sighed. Probably going to call Detective Tyrie, he thought, but turned back to where he’d seen the man anyway.
Murdock reached the cart in only a few seconds. The woman operating it was cleaning her brewing machine and humming when Murdock walked up. It wasn’t a big city, and she recognized him. By the little smile, she was one of the those who approved of his methods.
“Get you some tea?” she asked.
“No,” he said, and she frowned slightly, “did you see a guy here a few seconds ago?” Murdock gave a quick description.
“Yeah, he didn’t want any damned tea either.”
“Where’d he go?”
“That way,” she said, and pointed to an avenue running parallel to the one they were on. It also headed to the docks.
“Thanks,” he said, and walked a bit faster.
The crowds had grown as evening approached. Murdock knew what he was looking for now. It was just a minute before he caught a glimpse of brown hair. People without hats tended to stick out in Atlantis. It rained a lot, so most locals habitually wore hats. Only his quarry was good. Very good, actually. He played cat and mouse with the man for the better part of an hour before finally losing him entirely.
He was near the starport in a long line of import-related businesses before he
admitted defeat. Murdock leaned against a curb and caught his breath. The pain in his hip was insistent and sharp. I’m getting too old for this shit, he thought. Besides, he’d never been a spy type; his gig was smashing shit. He’d done his share of sneaking; however, it was usually in jungles following one character or another.
Murdock looked around at his surroundings, realizing he was by the starport. It couldn’t be a coincidence. He moved around for a bit, looking for his quarry. Despite the starport being all but deserted as the afternoon advanced, he saw no sign of him. He started to head back to the docks.
On the way, he passed the warehouse where he had a few things stored. The next building over held a business he’d never seen before. “BBW Outfitters, Unlimited,” the sign said.
“Well, that’s interesting,” he said as he came to a stop. He’d had no idea any merc outfitters were on Valais. “BBW? Big Beautiful Woman?” He chuckled. A lot of mercs were chub-chasers. They tended toward big guys, and little, petite girls…broke too easily. He liked them medium, himself, like Sheela.
Murdock tried the door; locked. Like the other business fronts here, it didn’t have a window. Unlike the others, there was no sign proclaiming hours of operation. There was a simple AetherNet address on the sign next to the name. He took out his slate and entered it. The address connected to a message board, that was it. No details on products available, just “Coming Soon.” If they were new, it explained a lot. It didn’t explain why it didn’t look new. The sign looked like it had been up a few weeks, maybe a month, by the amount of mold. Mold was the unofficial Valais National Flower.
With one last look at the storefront, Murdock lit a cigar and continued back to the docks to meet the kid and go home. He didn’t notice the people giving him a glare from the smoke, or the door open a crack behind him to allow the occupant to observe his departure before closing again.
* * * * *
Chapter Five
“Murdock,” Melvic said with a smile when his face appeared on her screen, “you never call.” Then it turned to a frown. “Oh, no, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, its fine,” he said and held up a placating hand. “I just had a question.”
“Sure, what can the Environmental Sanctuary of Valais do for you today?”
Murdock snorted and gave a couple barking laughs before responding. “When I was in a couple days ago, I spotted a business down by the starport.” He explained what he’d seen.
“Never heard of it,” Melvic said. She screwed up her face in thought. “You know what, I don’t think there are any merc businesses on the planet.”
“Yeah,” Murdock said, “that’s what I thought. Hey, can you check?”
“I’m a settlement coordinator,” she said. “Businesses aren’t my thing.”
“Right, but I bet you can find out.”
She looked away from the camera and licked her lips, then back at him. “I can get in a lot of trouble poking around the government database outside my authority.” Murdock just nodded. “Damn it,” she said.
“Then you’ll do it?”
“Okay,” she said, and he grinned. She tried to look stern, then grinned back at him. “It’s gonna take a day or two; I need to wait until I have a chance to borrow someone’s terminal so they can’t trace it to me.”
“No problem,” he said, and she reached to terminate the connection. “Hey, Tessa?”
“What?”
“You’re okay.”
“Thanks, you old scoundrel. Sheela’s a lucky lady.” She cut the connection.
“News travels too damned fast on this planet,” he said as he put the slate down on the table. The back door to the cabin opened, and Vince came in. He was wearing only a pair of shorts and was covered in sweat and dirt. “How’s it coming?”
“I think we’re ready for the concrete,” the boy said.
“Really?” Murdock got up, ignoring the twinge from his hip, and headed for the door. “Let’s have a look.”
Later Murdock brought the kid in, and they both took turns in the cabin’s small shower to get the dirt, sand, and dust cleaned off. Vince paused before going into the shower to look at all the scars on Murdock’s torso. He’d noticed the kid looking more than once.
“Did they hurt?” Vince asked suddenly.
“Every time, kid,” Murdock said. “Being a merc means getting hurt.”
“I know about pain,” Vince said, stripping off his filthy shirt and tossing it in the autocleaner. His back was crisscrossed with scar tissue, testimony to his time as a slave with the pirates.
“It’s not quite the same,” Murdock said, then nodded slightly. “But you’re right, to some degree. What you went through is more than I’ve dealt with. There was this guy, Avander, he’s one tough motherfucker.”
“Yeah?” Vince said as he finished stripping. He still had a child’s body, though Murdock guessed he’d need the man talk before too many more years. Vince climbed into the shower and turned on the hot water. “Why was he so tough?”
“He was a slave, like you. Only it was aliens who took him.”
“How long was he a slave?”
“Don’t know precisely,” Murdock admitted, “but he was on the alpha contracts, and I first saw him twenty years ago, just after he’d gotten free.”
Vince glanced at Murdock through the glass, his brows furrowing. “Alpha contracts was a hundred years ago?”
“There abouts,” Murdock agreed.
“So he musta been a slave for more than fifty years!” Murdock nodded. “Who had him, and what did they use him for?”
“Race known as the HecSha. They look like flat-headed lizards. Nasty bastards who are excellent bioengineers. Avander was a famous scientist back on Earth before he joined on with a merc company as a doctor. He took the job for money, so he could start a company when he got back. Only he didn’t get back. At least, not by the time I’d known him. He was with the Horde then.”
“The Golden Horde?” Vince asked.
“Lucius said they bought Sparkle from a group that was tied to the Horde.”
“The hell you say?” Murdock said.
“No, really. They said it was a few years ago, Lucius was real sure.” The water turned off.
“You wash your junk?” There was a quiet curse and the water came back on. Murdock was still working on basic sanitation habits for the kid. The pirates had spent a lot of time in space, and only let the kid bathe maybe once a month. He didn’t think the kid had ever brushed his teeth, and the dental bot in Atlantis had agreed. The teeth cleaning had set Murdock back twenty fucking credits. He’d had to literally show the kid how to brush and floss, then make him do it every night.
As a merc, you learned to stay as clean as humanly possible. Most alien bugs didn’t like the taste of Human flesh, but the same couldn’t be said for molds and fungus. Human skin was a good defense if you cleaned it every chance you got. As with most things, it was a story about an alien parasitic infection Murdock had acquired in his molars after an operation on a jungle planet that got the kid to start brushing every day.
“Why would the Golden Horde, rich as they are, deal drugs?” Murdock asked as Vince came out of the shower and grabbed a clean towel.
“Don’t know,” he admitted. “Can we go fishing before dark?”
“Too late to take the skiff out,” Murdock said, and the boy looked crestfallen. “Tell you what, get some clean duds on, do a lap around the crescent, and we’ll go drown some worms on the end of the dock. Some fresh grouper sounds good.”
“Deal!” Vince said, brightening like a puppy who’d just been praised. Murdock admired how the kid had any sense of fun at all after his life. Maybe he would make a good merc.
Once Vince was off on his run, Murdock checked his messages. Tessa hadn’t gotten back to him yet, which he hadn’t expected anyway, so he went to do some wiring. The cement had cured, so he took the protective covers off the wiring and started making connections. He’d just finished the s
econd bundle when he heard knocking. Murdock grabbed his HP-4 pistol and went to the door.
“Easy, man,” Greenstein said when he saw Murdock open the door with the huge gun.
“Sorry,” Murdock said and stuck the gun in his waistband. “Old habits die hard.”
“So do old mercs.”
Murdock grunted a laugh. “What’s up, Chris?”
“I think Dod is having trouble.” Chris Greenstein was a retired merc like all the rest of them. He’d been a dropship pilot for half a dozen different companies and went by the callsign of Greensleeves. He didn’t talk about why or who he’d worked for. A particularly good score several years ago had given him a big enough grub stake for him to retire, and he had. He was a fair medic, so he kept an eye on the oldest among them, and Dod was old.
“Bad?”
“Not good. Haven’t seen him get outta the chair on his porch all day.”
Murdock grunted and went over to the notepad by the door. He wrote a message to Vince for the kid to go fishing, and he’d meet him there. He propped the poles, tackle kit, and a tin of worms by the door, grabbed his medkit, and followed Greenstein out the door.
Dod’s place was just two cabins down. It only took a few minutes walking down the crushed gravel lane that served as the main, and only, road on the island. The old merc had built the cabin by himself fifteen years ago when he’d first come to Valais, when he was still in halfway decent shape. Made from native rock cut from the cliffs above their homes and imported concrete, it was sturdy as a fortress, and had given Murdock several ideas when he’d first seen it. As the pair rounded past the simple driftwood gate at Dod’s place, the old merc was on the porch in his rocking chair, staring at them.
“I knew you fuckers’d be here after I saw that nosey bastard came by.” Dod glared daggers at Greenstein.
“Hi yourself, Dod,” Murdock said.
“Fuck yourself,” Dod grumbled and struggled to get to his feet. Struggled mightily, and failed. He began cursing in a seamless stream.
“Let me have a look at you,” Murdock suggested, holding up the medkit.