“Yes, about that… we can’t seem to locate you. What is your location?”
Damnit, they were looking for her, whoever they were. The Force should have slipped right past her firewall and located her, even on the lower levels. “Who is this?” She started a backward trace with a little subroutine she had picked up from a friend.
The line went dead. The person on the other side didn’t cut the connection, her coms line went dead like her implant had pulled out of her skull. “Deckra.” Someone with more power than the Force searched for her. It wasn’t easy to cut someone from the grid. Now they could hunt her without meddling from the Force. She was alone.
She needed to go to ground with her ward, and quick. If the Force wasn’t tracking her, then some unknown player had entered into the game. She was familiar with this section of town. She had an acquaintance that owed her a favor. It would have to do.
The cart rolled easily down one of the less-maintained halls. It only took her a moment to be standing outside her friend’s door. The high-security lock and new cameras strategically placed on the outside proved this door protected more than the normal slag scraping a living in this section.
“Go away, I don’t want any,” a familiar voice echoed in her ear. Jolly, her friend, had somehow hacked her dead implant.
Rather than argue with the unseen voice, she lifted the lid on the cart she pushed to show the female Saravipian lying on the inside. The lid safely closed, Sam leaned on the cart waiting for the door to open. It proved a strange game of chicken, but she could wait. Jolly had much more to lose in the game than she did.
“Deckra!” echoed in her head, the volume higher than it should be. The door clicked open.
Sam wasted no time pushing the cart inside the space she knew well.
Jolly sat in a reclining chair where he could see the room if he only opened his eyes. A strange array of tubes connected to the young Smadsenis. Sam knew from experience the chair provided him everything he needed to survive for weeks even months, at a time. His gray brain cavity pulsed in deep thought and the pair of antennae pointed her way. These creatures always looked so comical to Sam. Their heads huge compared to the rest of their tiny bodies. The chair gave him great power, but in a way, it controlled him and limited his movements.
“Why do you bring that trouble into my home?” Jolly beamed into her head.
“Listen, I needed to get her off the street. This was the nearest safe place. We both know you owe me.” She looked around the room. “Is this place still dark?”
Jolly giggled into her brain. His real lips even cracked a smile. He might have his brain wired into the computer, but his emotions could still leak out into reality. “You know it is, that’s why you came. As long as the Force is too clumsy to find their ass with both hands and a flashlight, I will remain safe.”
Jolly owed her because she had helped him find the chair he now sat in. Before she found a builder, he scraped by as a simple recluse hiding from the authorities, the Force, as best he could, hacking out a living when and where possible. Sam helped him get the chair.
Funny thing, shortly after the chair was finished, the builder and all the specifications disappeared. That remained a string Sam refused to pull. She was terribly frightened where it might lead, and she still needed Jolly. In the right hands, a hack could work near miracles in the real world from the virtual one.
“Anyone searching for her yet?” Sam asked.
He shook his head slightly. “Not that I can tell. The Force is investigating a suicide, a Prod they are trying to ID… anything I should know of?”
“Lots of things.”
On the station, there was surprisingly little violent crime. Technology had become too hard to defeat most of the time. There remained a constant race between law enforcement and the criminal, and right now law led the advancements.
“Yeah, can you check the records and see who came and went from a Mister Lousier’s apartment from about an hour ago till now?”
“I would, but I can’t. The cameras assigned in that area are offline for maintenance, have been for a day. Strange coincidence, right?”
“Yeah, too strange. Who ordered the shutdown?”
“Even stranger, it came from the Saravipian high council.”
“Deckra, let me think.” This had the fingerprints of a hit, and the admiral’s not-so-light touch.
The nice thing about Far Reach Station, or the bad thing about it, was there was no real overcontrolling government for the entire station. The torus had been broken up into sections, and each finished section remained the sovereign territory for a major race. The minor races found a living where they could. The Rankin liked to think they ruled the station, and in fact held many positions of power, but Sam knew that control was in name only. If the other races ever decided to take over, there would be little the tall light-worlders named Rankin could do.
That left several official individuals, and each race had their own way of handling problems with an investigative arm of the government to take care of lawbreakers. The name they went by mattered little. Many times they proved little better than the criminal syndicates that ran the underworld of the station.
The Rankin proved to be fragile creatures. Those like Sam could snap the thin-boned aliens like a twig. She wouldn’t need a weapon to kill them. However, she would not be able to defeat an army of light-worlders carrying their powerful energy weapons.
Her thoughts of carnage were interrupted. “You expecting company?” Jolly spoke into her ear. A monitor flashed next to her head, and outside stood the female that threw her voice at the art gallery. It must be Chantel’s older sister.
“Shit, how did she find us?” Sam looked at the cart. She threw open the cover and inside lay her ward, smiling up at him.
“Did you tell anyone where we were?” Sam reached in and grabbed the blouse of the young woman.
“I read no signal going out,” Jolly added.
“I swear I didn’t tell a soul. I’m not even sure where we are?”
“Hello?” a voice could be heard over the monitor.
“Is that Maddie?” Chantel asked.
Sam slapped closed the top of the cart. “Stay quiet.”
“What do you want me to do? We can’t leave her out there,” Jolley asked.
“Deckra.” Sam wanted the woman dead, but to have a body lying in the hall would do little good. “Open the door.”
There came a grunt in her mind and a click as the door unlocked. Sam reached out and with one hand lifted the young female Saravipian off the ground by the collar and dropped her inside the room.
“Hey, watch—” Her words were cut off when Sam spun her around and raised the back of her hand, ready to slap the snot out of her.
“Shut your hole. How did you find us?”
The woman cringed and gave out a little squeak. “Don’t hit me.”
“Answer the question, how did you find us?” Sam held her tight, ready to snap her neck.
“I grew worried about Chantel, I… her boyfriend was spaced.”
“The Prod servant was her boyfriend?” Sam wasn’t even certain if the servant had shifted to male. Now she assumed that the question was answered.
“Where is Chantel?” The young woman cried.
If she came here to kill her sister, this was the sloppiest hit Sam had ever seen. “Before I take you to her, answer one question… Where is your mother in all this?”
Before Maddie answered, Chantel burst out of the cart, leaving Sam little option but to let them get their reunion over with. The hugs and tears turned Sam’s stomach. Not at all what she expected from a pair of the most authoritative female species in the known galaxy.
“Where’s your mother?” she asked again, with more force in her voice.
The sister jumped at her growl. Maddie spoke over Chantel’s shoulder. “She is still home.”
Sam had her attention once again. “How did you find us?”
“I put a spik
e on her. I thought she might get into trouble. When the signal went dead, I thought the worst. I came to the last signal. How did you find her?” Maddie asked.
Strange for a sister to put a trace on her younger sister. Stranger still she didn’t follow her, just let the trace run. Chances were no one else knew of the trace, or they would be banging on the door.
“I’m not finding a spike signal. I would not have let you in if I spotted one.” Jolly spoke into Sam’s ear.
“That’s because I found it and shut it off…” Chantel spoke through her sister’s shoulder.
That made no sense. All of these deckra Saravipian started to drive her crazy. She knew they were devious, but this got out of hand. “Give me your mother’s location…” Sam let the threat hang in the air. They both blurted out their home quick enough. Cowards.
“Be careful, she will try to kill you. You can’t trust her.” This first from Chantel.
Followed quickly by Maddie, “She only wants to rule the station.”
Chantel moved to Sam and hugged her tight while she spoke. “She wants us dead or worse. She must be trying to take us out or discredit us.”
Maddie came up and ran her fingertips over Sam’s upper arm. “She is crazy… If you can prove she is guilty of everything, it will save us. We would be forever in your debt. Maybe you can just take care of her…”
The implication became clear. Sam didn’t need it spelled out for her. She had no time for the bull, no matter how thick they spread it. “Jolly, you stay here and don’t let these two leave. If they try… kill them. I need some time to think.” Not that Jolly was going anywhere. He looked set for a few more days before he climbed out of his chair.
The pair gave just the wide-eyed worried look of fear that Sam needed. She needed these two on ice. Mama paid the bills. Mama would need to instruct her what to do with them and answer some questions. It was time to confront the admiral and get the answers she needed.
Sam assumed Jolly was no killer, but the two young Saravipian didn’t know that.
The trip proved not too far. In reality, nothing on the station was far. The lift made short work of the change in elevation, and the moving sidewalks helped speed her pace. Her hat slung low to hide her face, she only doubled back three times to make sure she wasn’t being tailed. As far as she could tell, the sisters should be safe with Jolly… if they did nothing stupid.
Sam expected some trouble while heading to the admiral’s home but encountered none. The door to her spaces sat unguarded. Her link still dead, she would get no warning if Jolly had any problems.
She knew the security spotted her standing outside; she didn’t bother pounding on the door. That would only tip her hand at how upset she grew at being played the fool.
The door opened, but no one waited on the far side. A voice came from inside the brightly lit room. “Come in, Miss Angel.” The voice was the familiar one of Admiral Mahalia.
Sam hesitated. Someone knew her secret and played the card off the bat. That certainly meant more bad news to come, or Mahalia didn’t know how to reel in a catch.
The tall woman sat on an oversized couch. It had to be larger than Sam’s whole apartment.
“Is the human male taken care of?”
Is she toying with me? “You might say that. He is dead.”
“I see… killing him proved unavoidable?”
Sam didn’t answer. She let the statement hang, something wasn’t right.
“Are my daughters with you?” the admiral asked.
“They are safe. Can you tell me what is going on?” Sam stood in the doorway, the door to her back. “And why you called me a female?”
“Come now, we both know why I hired you. I wanted to make sure I had leverage over you if the time came.” The older woman never moved. “Can you tell me where my daughters are?”
“Your credits were all the leverage you needed. You hired me, I work for you. Your daughters are with a friend. Can you tell me what is going on?”
“My security forces came to me about a plot. A plot to kill me and take over my position…” She never finished her words.
Sam felt the tip of a high-energy weapon poke in her back. Just like the one that lay on the floor in the Human’s home. “Go on, Mother, tell him what they told you.” Maddie and Chantel walked in behind Sam.
They had the drop on her. She didn’t have a weapon anyway. Sam never cared for firearms. Before now, she never saw the need. A not-so-gentle shove in the small of her back moved Sam farther into the room.
The pain of betrayal was evident on the admiral’s face. “I wanted to believe my security forces were mistaken, but when they told me my daughters were… Girls, are you certain you want to go through with this? Are the two deaths you caused not enough?”
Chantel stepped around Sam and into the room. That left Maddie with the gun in Sam’s back. “Go on, Mother, tell her everything you have done to us, your own daughters.”
The admiral shook her head. “I don’t want to bore Miss Angel with the details. You didn’t need to kill Josmen. Do you know how hard it is to find good help?”
“You worry more about that Prod than you do your own flesh and blood,” Maddie called from behind Sam. “He needed to die. He learned about our plan. I was afraid he would tell you.”
“Idiot, he told me nothing… You always failed to realize, I can make another pair just like you. That was always your downfall.” The older woman waved her hand from the couch.
Chantel grabbed her throat, and Sam felt the tip of the weapon move from her back. She turned in time to see Maddie drop to her knees. She reached out and took the weapon from the oldest daughter’s hand. She stepped into the room and watched as the pair writhed in pain.
“Technology is a wonderful thing. Once an implant has been hacked, it can send a signal to the brain telling it to stop breathing, or anything really.” The admiral stood and stepped next to Sam. “Do I need to explain what these two snakes have been up to?”
Sam looked at the weapon and shrugged. “Not really. I assume they killed a friend to get here. I told you before, your credit bought my loyalty. I work for you not them.”
“Good, that is the kind of devotion I like to treasure. The kind of dedication a person can’t find with family. You will be well rewarded for your work. Tell me, Miss Angel, have you ever thought about working for someone on retainer full time? As a live-in fixer?”
“I told you I don’t go around killing people.” Sam stepped over Chantel’s lifeless body to the bar that stood against the wall. “But I think I can make an exception if the price is right.”
It seemed the admiral had more power than Sam ever thought possible. It was time to snuggle up to that influence and see if some might rub off on her. Besides, her liquor cabinet proved well stocked.
Sam laid the pistol on the bar, freeing her hands to pour a stiff drink.
In reality, it didn’t matter if Chantel and Maddie murdered Lousier and Josmen. They did come to kill their mother. In Sam’s mind, the admiral simply defended herself. In most cultures, matricide was still frowned upon.
Sam accepted that and decided to not ask too many more questions. It seemed like things were looking up for her.
Xpress
Station time remained a luxury Jax had little opportunity to enjoy. The ship’s schedule normally only allowed the crew a few hours before the cargo was shifted and the Moth deemed ready to depart for parts unknown. Technically, the ship carried the name of Hudie, but when Jax learned that was near enough to the ancient word in Mandarin for butterfly, he started calling his ship the Moth. No one but Jax really cared.
The cargo hauler was nothing pretty, and nothing about the ancient cargo ship he’d signed up as a deckhand on reminded him of the delicate flying insect. Butterfly just wouldn’t do. When it came to most alien words, Jax became an expert at finding meanings from old Earth languages to replace them with. It was a useless skill, but one that helped to occupy the many hours between
ports of call.
He scratched the expertly trimmed beard that took him hours to make look like a ten-day-old stubble. He needed it to be just the right length to show off his natural blond hair. In this day and age, his color of hair was easy to get installed but harder to come by naturally. If there was the chance to find Miss Right-now on this station, he needed to look his best. Being a deckhand on a beast of a cargo ship like the Moth wasn’t what most of the ladies looked for in a male companion.
He watched the alien faces flow past on the moving sidewalks, searching for any features that looked even remotely human and finding none. Rumor had it that in parts of the station small enclaves of humans had congregated, but Jax hadn’t found that part yet. When he looked over the alien faces, he couldn’t help but remember the horror tales he grew up watching on his link.
Back right after the first contact, every new discovery brought a shock to Earth and the humans that thought they ruled supreme. The weak-minded suffered the death of a thousand discoveries. It came as no surprise that many on Earth still refused to believe there was alien life beyond the solar system they called home.
It had only been thirty years since the first contact, but space-venturing humans made the leap the first chance they got. Once the door burst open to Earth, spacecraft of every race snuck onto the planet. All manner of creatures came ready to deal in black market trade. Earth was an undiscovered country for many races, so primitive artifacts flew off the planet, high-tech gadgets the modern-day trader beads. Humans eager to reach the stars did what they thought was needed to join any crew possible.
Jax lucked out. He had a strong back, some computer skills, and a way of speaking that made the captain of his ship laugh when they first met. Jax didn’t need to offer too much other than loyalty to join the crew of the Moth.
It was over ten years ago Earth time that Jax made the leap into interstellar space. He knew there had been some humans that beat him into the big black by many decades. He wasn’t the first, nor the last. Ships like his always searched for cheap manual labor. Virtual reality rigs cost an arm and a leg compared to a strong-backed human.
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