Retribution Required

by C. R. Daems

  "I'm looking forward to our trip aboard the Tykhe."

  * * *

  The troupe came aboard five days later. Ndidi took one cabin, four women took two, and the men decided they preferred temporary accommodations in the cargo hold, along with their equipment. It worked out well as the cargo hold was a wide-open space for them to practice and relax. We arrived back to Dacca ten days later—a twenty-six-day round trip.

  "What do you have to declare?" the older of the two inspectors asked as he entered. Seeing the Morra, he smiled.

  "Twelve passengers, the Morra Dance Troupe on their way to entertain at the Drum Club," I said.

  "Drugs?"

  "No, just passengers," I said, as amused as the inspector, although for different reasons: he knew the troupe used drugs, while I knew he was going to be disappointed. Sure enough, an hour later he returned to me, looking grumpy.

  "We found three ounces of Yuzzo. Where is the rest?"

  "Rest?'

  "They usually carry a kilo."

  "Beats me. This is the first time I've carried the troupe. If you confiscate the drug every time they come here maybe they decided to bring less," I said, trying not to show my amusement. Of course, they didn't believe me and spent an hour going over every inch of the ship.

  Kraig had rented a tour van to carry the troupe and their equipment to the Drum Club. And I had arranged with Ndidi to have one of the women dress in my clothes. It was night when they eventually left. I hoped whoever was watching thought the ship empty.

  Sure enough, a half hour later a van pulled up with signage reading, Leget Missile & Laser Defense Systems. Four men dressed in HAZMAT clothing entered the Tykhe. Each pair carried a missile and all four men were wearing night vision goggles. When they were in the hallway to the missile compartment I tapped on my tablet and then the light icon, as I closed my eyes and put my head into the crook of my arm. Even then I could see a gray light flash. I could imagine men wearing night vision goggles would be permanently blinded from the combined effect of the explosive flash of light and the goggles. I stepped into the hallway and shot the four men in their heads—like shooting paper targets at the firing range. They never even reached for their weapons.

  My tablet showed another two men entering the ship with Mfws in hand and no HAZMAT suits or night vision goggles. One stayed behind the cover of the intersecting hallway and entrance to the ship, firing each time I attempted to peek out. The other briefly examined the four dead men. He was quick and the two disappeared. A minute later I heard the truck drive away. I verified the four were dead on my way to the control center where I notified port security. They arrived en mass, eight strong, about ten minutes later.

  "You claim men entered your ship without permission?" a lieutenant asked when he saw me waiting at the entrance. He didn't sound friendly. The other seven were milling around their vehicles or walking around the Tykhe.

  "Yes, they came in a truck marked Leget Missile & Laser Defense Systems, which I didn't authorize access or contract with." I said, knowing they already knew that but I had to play the game as did they.

  "Well, how did they get in?" He growled. His square face frowned in disbelief.

  "At one of my stops they must have paid a contractor working on my ship to setup an alternate access code." Turning, I led him and two of his men to the control center where I showed him the entry, which was obviously not an authorized entry.

  "She's right, Lieutenant," a young blond-haired man said after examining several logs. "It was done several years ago."

  Then I walked them back to the hallway where the other officers were examining the bodies and the missiles.

  "Are those missiles dangerous?" the lieutenant asked as he stepped back from the bodies.

  "No. They look like standard Rogue-6a Air to Air missiles. And they don't show any sign of radiation or other contaminants. We checked when we saw the suits."

  "Then why are they wearing HAZMAT suits?" he shouted at me, his face red in frustration or maybe at the potential loss of paying customers.

  "I can only guess, but probably so they didn't leave a trace. Shadi would have detected a stranger's scent and alerted me to the fact someone had entered the ship," I said. Shadi sat by my leg looking up at the lieutenant as if waiting acknowledgement. None came.

  "What were they doing with your missiles?" Another growl. I wondered if it wasn't a growl but rather his natural way of speaking—like sports coaches are always screaming. Or maybe anger at losing a steady source of income. In the Rim it was an acknowledged, if not legal, way of doing business. I had a decision to make—whether to claim they are mine and risk the discovery that they have a secret compartment that could be—was—used for smuggling, or let them have the missiles and alert customs—on every system—to a secret compartment that was virtually leak proof. Either was potential damming. I chose to eliminate a potentially secure way for the Black Hand to smuggle.

  "Although they are Rouge 6a missiles, they aren't mine. When pirates attacked me I used eight of my twenty. Before you came I counted my remaining missiles and I have twelve."

  "You sure you didn't order replacements?" the lieutenant growled.

  "I ordered two to replace the eight I lost, then shot the men who brought the two because they were wearing Hazmat suits… I pursed my lips and put my hands on my hips. "Yes, I'm sure I didn't order replacements. I have to assume they intended to replace two of mine with those two.”

  "Why? Doesn’t make sense," one of the officers said to the man standing next to him.

  "Don't know. Maybe if you take these two apart it will be obvious. Or you could question the two men in the Leget truck who drove off after I shot their accomplices." I left off saying, you obviously know them, but didn’t as it wasn't in the game's rulebook.

  Kraig entered just as the security men were leaving. They had removed the bodies and the two missiles.

  "Looks like you were right."

  "Yes, they were reluctant to give up their free fuck-on-demand bimbo. It cost them four thugs and two expensive missiles." I produced an award-winning smile. "And the ability to use that method of smuggling. Every customs agent in the Rim will soon be looking for similar missiles."

  "What about you? Won't they also be looking for similar mechanisms?" Kraig asked with raised eyebrows.

  "Are you accusing me of using such devices?" I attempted to look hurt and indignant at the same time. Kraig just laughed.

  "It's a good thing you’re rich and don't need to…trade anymore."

  "But I like this life. It's the only one I've ever known. Besides it's a family legacy—like moonshiners."

  "They don't treat women well in prison," Kraig said, and his concerned look turned to a frown. "What do you think the Black Hand will do now?"

  "Follow up on their offer for me to join them."

  "And when you don't"

  "Who said I won't?" I said frowning.

  "You wouldn't? Would you?"

  "Pays good and the ACS isn't interested in the Black Hand."

  "What about Retribution Required?"

  "I can't kill them all and I have cost them a tidy amount and killed six to date." I gave him a small grin. "Didn't some famous person say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"

  After a long silence Kraig spoke, "Sherman wants to send a squadron of ACS cruisers to Motif…and have us act as bait to draw them out—"

  "You're fucking insane if you think I'm going to play target practice for two Raider cruisers. Safer to play footsie with the Black Hand."

  "How much? That's seems to be your sole motivator." Kraig’s words dripped with contempt.

  "My sole motivator is survival. My father's death left me alone in a man's world, where the strong take what they want. I would have been stripped of everything if I hadn't been willing to die rather than submit. You live in this nice comfortable world with rules and structure. Without money I'd lose the Tykhe, I couldn't afford a Mfw and ammo to practice, and I'd be
at the mercy of every man. When you've survived a year in the Rim without the ACS's support, then you can lecture me. Without me you would have been killed by now," I said just above a whisper and my urge so strong to lash out that a low growl was coming from Shadi. I pulled my one true friend and island of safety to me. I don't know how long I sat holding her.

  "I'm sorry, Zen. You're absolutely right. I don't understand the Rim, couldn't survive here with all my military training, and have no right to judge you. The problem is I see smuggling as illegal and therefore practiced by criminals with no morals. But I don't see you as…evil or immoral." He sat back and said no more. Eventually, he rose and retired for the night.

  * * *

  I'll help under two conditions. Maybe three." I smiled. "First, the ACS pays to restore the Tykhe in the event it's damaged. Second, I get to be part of the planning with veto rights." I said when Kraig entered the galley the next morning. "I'm not into judging people, but the Raiders are evil."

  "What about the third condition?" He smiled, clearly amused.

  "The no-name asteroid group restores my missiles and maybe Clyde could add a little something for me." I smiled back.

  "I'll check with Colonel Sherman but I'm sure conditions one and two are a done deal and three if we destroy the Raiders."

  And they don't destroy us, I mused.

  * * *

  I spent the day on the Flight Deck with Kraig, removing the Black Hands software to ensure they couldn't enter the Tykhe again without a destroying the locks on the entrance.

  "That is not going to make the Black Hand happy," Kraig said as we finished.

  "True, and the reason I needed to catch them in the ship. That justifies me searching the software to figure out how they managed to enter without setting off alarms. I'd rather they didn't conclude I knew all along but rather that I discovered it by accident."

  "You’re hoping they are going to approach you with an offer," he said more as a statement than question. "But what then?"

  "That's a great question. But better they are trying to recruit me than they think I knew all along they had been playing me."

  "I gather then that you don't have a clue." He snorted.

  "Correct. For you, life in the Central Systems is straightforward—black and white. For me, life is a bit more complicated. My choices are not so much about good and evil but about life and death. I'm a woman alone in a male-dominated system. If I appear weak I'll be prey and will eventually be a victim. As long as I appear ruthless and they know I'll seek retribution, my chances are good my encounters will mostly be idiots and wannabes I can handle. More so now with Clyde's modifications." Proving myself the first year had been the most daunting challenge.

  "There may be options for you in the Central Systems if you want," Kraig said, and I could feel his empathy.

  I laughed. "That maybe more of a challenge than the Rim." While we awaited Colonel Sherman's decision I needed to act like a smuggler or raise all sorts of dangerous speculation. "I'm going to go look for some lucrative business, otherwise it's going to look suspicious. And I think I'll take a few days off and visit Tiri. I could use some time to think about what you said…and didn't say."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Star System: Dacca

  Play Time was a high-end nightclub for people of influence and money who liked play acting. You name your fantasy, dream-come-true, or nightmare, and the club would provide it in a safe and secure environment. The club guaranteed what happened at Play Time stayed at Play Time—and it did. The few times over the years it didn't, the responsible parties paid dearly—most died in unpleasant ways after their family and friends. The last incident had been over twenty years ago.

  The building looked like someone's private residence. Actually it was. It belonged to Grandmother Adoette, more commonly known as the Fairy Godmother Adoette—grantor of wishes. I rang the bell and waited. A minute later a man dressed as I would imagine a witch doctor would opened the door. "How may I help you, Spacer? A dream perhaps?"

  "I'd like to talk to Grandma Adoette, if she isn't too busy," I said. "Tell her it's Zenaida."

  "Come in, Pilot Zenaida. The Godmother will see you shortly," he said, leading me to a private room with two couches facing each other and a bar along the wall with a variety of beverages. I sat, deciding I wasn't thirsty. Five minutes later the door opened and a brown-skinned woman entered, wearing a calf length robe. The top half had a score of ivory and black symbols repeating across the material and the bottom had lotus flowers with orchids and saffron. Around her neck, wrists, and ankles were beads, feathers, and carved bones. The only sound as she entered and sat came from the assortment of ornaments she wore. She smiled as she went to the refreshment counter and poured two drinks.

  "The spirits sent you to grant my wish. A perfect choice," she said as she sat and put a Blue Ice down on the table between the two couches. "The Black Hand has always been expensive but now they are unreliable. I need someone to fetch some supplies from Divona. Three kilos that need to be delivered within two weeks. Seventy-five…in advance and an addition twenty-five if delivered on time."

  "Supplies?" I asked wanting to understand the risk.

  "Brown sugar and Mandrax," she said as she sipped her drink from a small cup. That was a good price as those drugs posed only a moderate risk, which meant she was running low.

  "Deal." We spent the next hour discussing the details of the supplier on Divona, during which she had a variety of Indian snacks served.

  I should have returned to the Tykhe but had a strong urge to see Tiri. So I hired a skimmer to take me to Snow Ridge where Stanfield lived.

  Richard met me as I exited the skimmer. We had agreed he would see to my return transportation. "Welcome, Zen. You’re in luck. Tiri is home." He laughed as Tiri came racing around the building and jumped on me, knocking me down before leaping on Shadi and then back to me. That simple greeting dissolved my worries about the future and I relaxed.

  Late that night after a steak dinner and a dessert I would expect in a five-star restaurant, he took me into a private room loaded with books and several comfortable leather chairs.

  "I will share a relatively well-kept secret with you, Zen, because I like you and we share the love of these precious snow leopards," he said, pausing to get my full attention. "I'm much like your Kraig, your AIA friend." He smiled at my involuntary wide-eyed shocked expression. You could say I run an equivalent organization, the RIS, RIM Intelligence Service. But where he works for the Central Government I'm a private entrepreneur."

  "How did you know? Who—" I hated to even ask who he had told or maybe he was getting ready to blackmail me… But that didn't fit with the man I knew. Thankfully he interrupted my speculation.

  "It's what I do. I collect and sell information. But I pride myself on being ethical. I had several queries on Kraig. I've reported all the known facts: he's from the Central Systems, you hired him as part time crew but chose to keep him as a junior partner. I haven't reported he's with the AIA because he isn't here to spy on the Rim but to find the Raiders, who I believe are evil and do not represent the Rim systems or interest. Likewise I have not shared my conjecture that you have known the Black Hand has been using you and the Tykhe for some time and that your recent actions are retribution. Why? Because although you’re a smuggler, I believe you too are ethical and I admire that."

  "Thank you, Richard. That information—" a wave of relief washed over me.

  "You're at a crossroad. The Black Hand by now knows you are on to them, even if they don't know for how long. They must either recruit you or kill you. They would forgive you because money is more important to them than revenge and you destroyed a very lucrative smuggling connection that you can provide if you join them. If not you are competition and revenge would be satisfying—steal the Tykhe and sell you…"

  I laughed, to Richard's surprise. "I wanted to come here to be with Tiri and you, to relax and consider my future, which has gotten very compl
icated. And I was right about you. Someone I can trust and talk with. I envy you. I wish I could buy some remote land and raise snow leopards somewhere they could be free."

  "I hope you find what you are looking for, Zen. You will always be welcome here."

  * * *

  "Why did you take a job to go to Divona?" Kraig asked when I returned three days later.

  "To delay the Black Hand from killing us before your Colonel Sherman decides on a plan to find and destroy the Raiders."

  "Killing us?"

  "I have it on good authority that the Black Hand wants me to join them but if I won't they will kill me. I assume that will include you," I said as I sat with my berry pie and juice. "I've destroyed an easy, profitable, and reliable method of moving things. If I join them, the problem is fixed. If not, killing me eliminates the competition, gets revenge, and probably scores points with the Raiders."

  "So Divona is buying us time."

  "And contributing to my old age pension." I grinned before delivering a bite of pie to my mouth. Kraig just shook his head. "We’re leaving as soon as I finish my pie. We have a deadline to earn a bonus."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Star System: Divona

  The flight to Divona took close to five days. The man I was told to contact was a lawyer who had an office in the heart of New Gangi. They had offices on the twelfth floor. The man at the front smiled as I entered.

  "How may I help you, Spacer?" he asked, looking enthusiastic and eager. Behind him was a large open area surrounded by large monitors and cubicles containing computers and more monitors.

  "I'm Pilot Zenaida. I was told to see a Mr. Hammar," I said, unclear how much to say since I had never dealt with Hammar or this firm, the Rim Commodity Traders.