“Local game” said Mona. “A bit like dear but less gamey in taste. You’ll like it if you’re into red meat” said Mona and then she added “But of course you are” and gave him a cheeky grin.
Art smiled back and nodded. Mona tapped the selection and turned to Tracy “Are you into red meat tonight, darling?”
“You know what Mona I think I might be” and Tracy gave Mona a look that could have scythed off her right arm.
“OK, OK” said Mona. “Two stags coming up.” She faced Art and asked “How do you want yours big boy? Let me guess…medium to rare… pink in the middle.”
“Sounds good to me” said Art who was enjoying the banter now.
But Tracy had had enough. “Make mine medium to well Mona and that will be all now.”
“As you wish my dear” said Mona with a flourish and she departed for the kitchen.
“Well you seemed to enjoy that” said Tracy.
“She’s a funny lady.”
“At my expense.”
“It’s usually at someone’s expense.”
“True.”
“Have you always been gay?”
“No…there was a time a while back…I had a boyfriend but he was cheating on me. It turned out that he had three of us on the go at the same time. He was always making excuses for not being there. One day one of his other girls came upon us. There was a huge row.”
She thought for a moment and continued “it was then I found out that he’d been cheating on me for over a year. I ended up trading stories with this woman and one thing led to another and believe it or not we ended up lovers. But it didn’t last.”
Art just nodded and Tracy added “About a year later I met Alex. She was wonderful. We hit it off straight away.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Not quite two years.”
“So what happened?”
“She died” said Tracy but the emotion was taking over. Art could see her jaw tightening.
“When?”
“Last August…she didn’t just die…she was killed.”
“By whom?”
“Officially they don’t know.”
“But you know?”
Tracy nodded. She was sucking in deeply now, her chest was heaving. She regained a bit of composure. “Best not to ask.”
“Why?”
“Look Alex was careless and I’m not going to make that same mistake. Understand?”
“Alright” said Art backing off. “Here’s trouble” he added as Mona approached with two plates in hand.
Mona placed the food on the table and observed Tracy’s state. “Is he giving you a hard time, darling?” she asked Tracy and gave Art a mean look.
“No Mona it’s alright.”
Mona concentrated on Art. “Look Mr you better behave or you’ll end up rarer than this stag.”
Art just sat there impassive.
“Leave it Mona. It’s not his fault.”
“OK darling. Just remember I’m over here. Holler if you need me.”
Mona left them.
“I’m sorry Art she can be a bit…protective at times.”
“It’s OK.”
They were silent for the next few minutes while they got stuck into their steaks. The soft and romantic mood music made way for the techno beat. Art suspected that was Mona’s work. Every now and then Mona cast an eye at their table as she went about her business.
Art polished off the last of his steak. “Not bad” he said with a contented smile. Tracy looked at him and smiled with her eyes. Her mouth was still chewing.
When she finished her mouthful she said “thanks Art.”
“What for?”
“For not prying too deep.”
“That’s OK. Some things take time. I’ve found that it does help to talk things through though. You shouldn’t bottle things up too long. Emotional stress can kill you.”
“I know what you mean. I used to have two very good friends that I’d share everything with…well almost everything” and she gave Art a knowing smile. “Anyway they left with the rest of the population after the declaration. I miss them.”
“So why did you stay?”
“Alex saw an opportunity and she convinced me to stay. She was working for this freight company and the owner was leaving with the mass exodus. He agreed to sell the company to Alex for a bargain price. So we pooled our money and bought the business.”
Art just nodded.
“You do that a lot” she said.
“What?”
“Just nod.”
“I like hearing the sound of your voice. I hear mine all the time while I’m alone.”
She laughed. “So what, you talk to yourself?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
She laughed again. “No Art they don’t.”
“Oh well when you do as much travelling as I do and you’re alone for that amount of time you miss the sound of voices.”
“Huh, that’s what Alex used to say. She’d be away a lot, doing the shuttle runs to Xizu and back.”
“I’m supposed to head out to Xizu tomorrow morning. What’s there? I thought it had become too dangerous with the solar flares and all, but I’ve been assured that it’s OK at this time of year.”
“Who are you seeing on Xizu?”
“Don’t know exactly. It’s a customer of Westfall Med. They want me to deliver my med supplies direct.” Tracy went quiet. Art could see the concern on her face. “Is there something wrong?”
“You better hope it’s for one of the independents.”
“What do you mean?”
“Even before the declaration, the big mining companies were leaving Xizu. It was getting too dangerous. Now there are a few small independent miners. The only one of any size is Bane Metal. Don’t do business with them.”
“Why not?”
“They’re bad that’s all I’m going to say.”
“They have something to do with Alex’s death, don’t they?”
Alex finally nodded.
Art had a concerned expression. “Look I don’t want to pry but I don’t want to put myself in harm’s way here.”
Tracy sighed. “Alex’s principal customer on Xizu was Bane Metal. She would make a return trip to them every week. It was usually bringing in mining equipment but…”
“But what?”
“But late last July she discovered that the so called mining equipment was in fact ship tech and even weapons. She told me about it and I tried to get her to leave but she wouldn’t be swayed. Three weeks later she was found dead, here in Wallacia. She’d been stabbed and left to die in the street. I know it had something to do with Bane Metal.”
Tracy had a look of grim determination. Art could tell she was trying desperately not to cry. He placed his hand on hers and she lost her composure. She withdrew her hand, searched and found a tissue in her bag and then wiped the tear drops from her cheek.
“Are you alright, darling?” asked Mona who had come over to take away the plates. She had a motherly concerned look on her face.
“Yeah I’m OK Mona?”
“Alex?”
“Yep” replied Tracy with a tight lip.
Turning to Art she said “terrible business.” She took the plates and left. A few seconds later she was back. “But not terrible enough to put you off desert. Ain’t that right Mr?”
Art smiled. “Too right Mona. Why don’t you surprise us?”
Mona smiled delightedly. “Why aren’t all my customers like you?”
“We’re in trouble now” said Tracy a bit more relaxed. “Mona’s deserts are wicked and definitely not good for a girl’s figure.”
“Your figure’s just fine.”
“Why thank you Art. You are a true gentleman. Too good not to be snapped up I’d say. Do you have someone waiting for you?”
Art nodded “Yes I do. In fact we’re to be wed soon.”
“I take it’s a she?”
“Yes.”
�
��Well she’s a very lucky woman.”
“No I’m the lucky one.”
“Oh, tell me all about her.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Oh go on. I promise I won’t steal her from you.”
Chapter 12. Wallacia 0750, 15 January
“Good morning Tracy” said Art as he came out of the dining room. She hadn’t been on the reception desk when he came down but there she was the picture of poise. “Sleep well?”
“Yes thanks Mr Cannard” she said formally and then in a more relaxed voice as he got closer she said “thanks for last night Art.”
“My pleasure.”
“Are you off now?”
“Soon, once the customer’s man gets here. In the meantime I’m just going to sit down here in this comfy chair and admire your figure.”
“Hum” she said in feigned disapproval. “You better hope your fiancé doesn’t here about this.”
“They never do” he said cheekily.
“Maybe I was wrong with my earlier assessment. You’re a bit of a rogue aren’t you?”
“No I’m not a rogue – just a little frustrated.”
“Mr Cannard?” came the voice from behind. He noticed the immediate concern on Tracy’s face. Art turned around to see the same man that had passed Tracy the note yesterday morning. “I’m McShane. Tiernan said I was to accompany you to Xizu.”
Art shook his outstretched hand. “Good to meet you. Look I just need to duck up to my room and grab my gear. I’ll be back down in a few minutes.”
“OK. I’ll wait here.”
Art turned back to Tracy. “So you can fix that console in my room?”
“Sure Mr Cannard. I’ll see to it immediately.”
Art took the elevator up to his room. Tracy took the service elevator. They met in front of his room and before she could say anything he said “Oh please this way” and ushered her inside. The door closed behind them.
“That man works for Bane Metal. He’s been badgering me to repay some money that they reckon our company owes them. He’s not a nice person Art. Here…” and she took out her communicator. “What’s your number?” Art gave her his number. “I’m sending you the details of someone you can trust on Xizu. Her name is Bree Mendalla. She works for an outfit called Topis. She’s a friend.”
“Take care Art” and she kissed him on the cheek.
He kissed her back on her cheek. “Thanks. I better go.” He grabbed his pack and they each went back down their separate ways. Tracy was already back at the reception desk by the time he got there.
McShane was not the talking type. He ignored Art’s attempts at conversation while they drove in his car to the space port.
Art asked him to wait outside while he went into Security at the space port. Holkins wasn’t in yet but the guard there gave him back his weapons after he signed for them. McShane didn’t blink nor say a word, when Art asked him to help carry them onto the craft. He didn’t say anything when he handed them back to Art who stowed them in the compartment behind the pilot’s seat – all of them except the now loaded handgun that Art had tucked into his pants while in the Security office.
In fact the only words he got from McShane were when he gave the instructions for the destination on Xizu. He sat in the crew seat behind the cockpit, pulled out his console and began reading. He gave all the appearance of a contented soul oblivious to his surroundings. But Art knew better.
Chapter 13. Redneck 45 over Xizu 1950, 15 January
There was no Control on Xizu. According to McShane it closed down many years ago. But someone was waiting for them.
“Welcome Redneck 45” came the cheery male voice. “Please put McShane online.”
McShane came forward and sat in the co-pilot’s seat. “McShane here.”
“Is everything OK?”
“Yes.”
“Proceed as planned.”
McShane turned to Art. “Give me control.” There was no please or any nicety whatsoever but Art had long assumed that such things were beyond McShane. Art gave him control of the ship. McShane handled it like a pro. His demeanour belied his skills. ‘I need to remember that’ thought Art.
The approach path was smooth. At 10ks above the surface Art turned on the camera view on his display. It was pitch black so he went to thermals.
“No cameras” barked McShane and he reached across and hit the control switch.
Art consoled himself with accessing the other sensors. These indicated that a weak atmosphere was starting to bite. The craft was decelerating and the heat was building up on the forward edges.
McShane was concentrating now. Ten kms out a set of lights came on revealing a large runway that disappeared into what must be a tunnel in the mountains ahead.
McShane didn’t bother with using any nav aids. He had obviously done this many times before. The craft was decelerating fast as the reverse thrusters combined with the atmosphere. McShane’s kept his eyes fixed ahead. He hit the landing lights and Art could see that the tunnel opening was huge, big enough to take a capital ship.
Everything was coming up fast now but Art’s eye caught sight of two flat surfaces just forward of the tunnel on either side of the runway. Art suspected these were for an automated missile battery but he played it cool, not wishing to give anything away at this stage.
They were inside the tunnel now and McShane cut the lights. But not before Art could ascertain that the cavern they were in was huge, at least a kilometre wide and probably three deep. It was also empty except for a couple of small shuttles on the left apron and what looked like a very old bulk ore transport at the far end.
There were two internal towers several hundred metres in and Art observed similar structures half way down and at the far end. There were no windows visible in these towers and Art had a good idea why.
McShane manoeuvred the craft to a halt on the left apron just past the other two shuttles. A container vehicle made its way towards them from out of the dark recesses of the tunnel. McShane powered down the engines. “We will unload now” he said without any hint or expression in his voice.
Art got out of his seat and asked “Suits?”
“No suit needed.”
McShane hit the release on the rear hatch. Art activated the control which extended a conveyer belt from the floor of the hold under the containers to the hatch. McShane poked his head out and then withdrew back inside as Art heard the container vehicle pull alongside. McShane gave Art the thumbs up once the conveyor on the craft was aligned with that on the vehicle. Art activate the conveyor and the containers wheeled their way out into the waiting vehicle.
A figure came alongside and spoke to McShane. Art couldn’t hear for the noise. McShane nodded and then came back to where Art was. “The boss wants to speak with you once where done here.”
“Alright.”
They waited till the last of the containers were transferred. McShane was keeping him under eye. Art deactivated the conveyer and once it had retracted they stepped out of the craft. Art closed the hatch and turned to find a utility vehicle pulling up. McShane got in and motioned for Art to follow. Art jumped into the back and the driver moved off down the tunnel. He didn’t turn on his lights.
Art could see the control building with its big windows looking out towards the entrance. It was too dark to identify anyone. There were a series of hangers, warehouses and what looked like accommodation blocks and offices lining the runway on the left side. It was too dark to make out anything on the right. They pulled up at a large building some way in. Lights came on but only at the ground level. McShane got out and so did Art. A big Bane Metal logo adorned the front of the building. Art looked up but couldn’t be sure how tall the building was.
McShane advanced to what soon became apparent as the main entrance. The doors opened automatically. There was no one manning the front desk. Motion sensors fired up the lights as they went. McShane led them up a flight of stairs that came out at a large open sp
ace. Light spilled out of an opened doorway ten paces ahead. Art followed McShane through the door and into the light.
If this room was meant to impress it failed miserably thought Art. Cheap metal chairs around a cheap metal and plastic table were the only furnishings other than a wall mounted display screen that hadn’t been turned on for a long while. “Wait here” was all McShane said before he withdrew closing the door.
Art looked around nonchalantly but in fact scanning for sensor devices. There was nothing obvious but now days it was nigh impossible to detect sensors with the visual eye. Art thought about accessing his portable console but thought better of it, lest he give too much away.
The door opened but instead of Mr Impassive, Ms Style appeared. She was stunning thought Art. She wore an elegant business suit. Her jet black hair was drawn tight behind and secured with a clip as was the fashion in the best business districts on Earth.
“Mr Cannard please come with me” she said with an accent straight out of an English finishing school. She gave no name and that was deliberate thought Art. She might be just the PA to the boss but she was letting him know that she was still well above his league.
“Certainly” said Art and he followed her out into the open space, along a corridor and then into a well-lit office, her office. She motioned for him to take a seat in one of the visitor chairs. These were top of the range. She went behind the desk and hailed “Mr Cannard for you Sir.”
“Please” is all she said as the two large doors retracted revealing a very large and impressive office. Bane rose from behind his wooden desk. The desk must be two hundred years old thought Art. It looked hand carved. Bane was about Art’s height and build. As he walked out from behind the desk Art could see that he moved like a fit man. He offered his hand and Art shook it.
“Kyle Bane” he said.
“Art Cannard.”
“Thank you for delivering this shipment Art.” He talked smoothly and at a measured pace like a man who had all the time in the world. “Your timing is impeccable. Can you supply more?”
“Sure. How much more?”
“Oh say three times what you just supplied.”
“When?”
“Within four weeks.”
“That would be difficult Mr Bane. I like to use a small craft. Anything bigger attracts too much attention if you know what I mean.” Bane nodded. “The best I could do is six weeks with a two week turnaround on each shipment.”
Redemption: Book 2 of Warner's World Page 21