Caitlyn Morcos

by M H Questus

  Morcos smiled, knowing her words had struck home. “As long as we understand each other. I’m looking for a man named Jeong Schnider. Was caught by one of the hallway cameras coming into the grey market a while back, hasn’t been seen since.”

  “Many people come here, Marshal. Most do not want to be found while they are here.” The fat man shrugged, his arms sagging with excess skin. “It is an expensive question you ask.”

  Morcos pulled out a few more credit bills. “I think it’s worth about 20 credits.”

  “Bah! For 20 credits I wouldn’t tell you the name of my assistant.” The fat man scowled. “Your ‘civilized’ fixed rate system sounds quite barbaric if you expect to get anything of value for that little.”

  “Huh. Okay, well, I guess I’ll just go find your competitor.” Morcos started to pull her head back out of the booth.

  “Wait!” The fat man lunged forward, grasping Morcos’s left hand. He then blinked a few times at the pistol that almost seemed to materialize in her right hand, pointed at his forehead. Haley drew in a sharp intake of air, also stunned with the speed of Morcos’s draw.

  “Let. Go.” Morcos spoke slowly, the fat man’s eyes almost crossed from trying to focus on the barrel of the pistol between his eyes. He slowly released her hand, holding his hands up in the universal symbol of surrender.

  Morcos holstered her pistol smoothly. “You were saying?”

  The fat man licked his lips a few times, trying to find his voice. “Wow. That was fast.”

  “Really?” Morcos said idly. “I didn’t notice.”

  “35 credits.”

  “30, and you’ll be happy about it.”

  “30, but I refuse to be happy.” The fat man rubbed one of his chins with a massive hand. “The man you’re looking for went to a mover who calls himself ‘The Grexian’.”

  “A mover?”

  “Yes. Man specializes in moving things. Getting people places they want to go. That sort of thing. His work isn’t cheap, but he has a reputation.” The fat man produced a handkerchief from one of the piles of nameless products that lined his booth, and moped his face with it delicately. “He’s set up shop about two hundred meters from here.” The fat man pointed, slowly, with a chubby forefinger down the corridor. “Head that way, look for the bright yellow and red sign written in Korean. Says ‘Fresh Fish’.”

  Morcos pulled out a money clip with a folded stack of credits. She delicately, and slowly, counted out 30.

  “Thank you for your assistance, citizen,” she intoned as she dropped the pile of notes on the floor in front of the fat man. “The Marshal Service appreciates your candor.”

  The fat man snarled in frustration, unable to reach the money by his feet. “Screw you, little Marshal.”

  Morcos tossed another couple of credits into the booth, and put the slim money clip back into her breast pocket inside her trench coat. “Come on, deputy, we’re done here for now.”

  The two officers ducked back out of the booth, Haley softly groaning with relief as she straightened her back. The two headed down the corridor in the direction indicated by the fat informer.

  “Any idea why they call him a ‘cyclo’?” Morcos asked as they moved into the pressing crowds.

  “Old term. ‘Encyclopedia’, or ‘encyclopedic knowledge’ or some such.” Haley shrugged.

  “Huh.” Morcos nodded. “The region of space I’m from, they called them ‘Wikis’ for much the same reason. Every grey market I’ve ever known had one.”

  “My turn; why ‘grey market’? It’s obviously more black market around here than grey.”

  Morcos smiled, her eyes distant and remembering. “Asteroid mine nomenclature. The maps of an asteroid mine are all standardized colours: blue for command sections, green for living quarters, red for security or weapons, and so on. Only colour that wasn’t represented was grey, which was used for the lines to separate other sections of the map for clarity.”

  Haley scrunched up her face. “No, I still don’t get it.”

  “‘Grey sections’ are all the sections that were between the other colours,” Morcos explained. “The lines on the map would cover up regions that weren’t green or blue or whatever, and so impromptu markets would show up because the section wasn’t technically assigned to any other zone. Since every asteroid station had to have the same colour scheme, they all ended up having grey sections filled with people who wanted to exist between perfectly legal and outright illegal activities.”

  Haley opened her mouth to ask another question, but Morcos stopped her with a raised finger. She pointed at the bright yellow and red sign with Korean lettering on it.

  “Here we go.” Morcos smiled grimly. “Ready?”

  “Uh… I was until you asked me if I was ready like that,” Haley muttered, nervously placing a hand on her sidearm.

  “Don’t worry, deputy.” Morcos said, her hand on the front door. She attempted to peer in through the small circular window set in the red door, but it was too coated in grime to see anything beyond. “Chances are pretty good that he’ll run rather than open fire immediately.”

  Morcos shouldered open the door without another word.

  A searing bolt of red energy blasted outwards, flying over Morcos’s head and past Haley’s right ear with a violent hissing as it vaporized water in the air.

  Morcos’s pistol was out instantly, and the green light of the firing stunner flashed in the air. Haley dove behind a counter, drawing her own weapon as she landed painfully on the floor.

  “Marshal Service!” Morcos shouted, her back to the counter on the opposite side of the door from Haley. “Drop your weapons!” Her stunner, held in her right hand and pointing upwards, was smoking from between the twin barrels of the pistol.

  Haley gripped her laser pistol tightly in both hands, blinking rapidly, eyes darting back and forth.

  Another red beam of light cut over their heads, slicing into the boxes stacked on the counters with a blast of steam and a screech of water vapour. One of the boxes, with a hole clean through, began spouting water in both directions from the neatly burned hole.

  Morcos grabbed a box lid from the floor. She nodded at Haley, who swallowed and nodded back.

  Morcos threw the box lid up and over the counter. Haley waited a split second to hear the sizzle of the laser pistol fire burning through the distraction of the box. She stood and spun over the counter as Morcos launched herself up in the other direction.

  The store, about ten meters wide by twice that long, was full of steam and wreckage from both Morcos’s initial volley of stunner bolts and the laser beams of their assailant or assailants. A small fire was flickering on the wall to the left of the door, and the overhead fans swirled the currents of steam and smoke around confusingly.

  Haley spotted movement at the far side of the store, and aiming down the sights of her laser, pulled off a shot. The weapon, optimized for use on a starship and therefore of lower cutting power, produced no visible beam, but instead of cutting neatly through targets caused messy explosions of any organic matter it hit. Safer for ships, much more dangerous to human targets that happened to get in the way.

  The ripple of superheated air momentarily linked Haley’s pistol to the shadowy movement on the far side of the shop. There was a wet THACK sound and a very human scream.

  Morcos fired two shots in quick secession, both answered by dull thuds as their targets dropped to the floor.

  Haley dropped back down behind the counter, but Morcos stayed up, surveying the far side of the shop with her pistol extended.

  The sound of moaning came over the gentle sizzle of the smouldering wall behind Morcos and Haley. Otherwise the store was silent.

  Morcos ducked and crouch-ran around the end of the counter she had been taking cover behind. Haley breathed a quick half-curse under her breath and stuck her head back over her counter, keeping her laser pistol aimed forward.

  “Don’t move!” Morcos came across the three crumpled forms at the far en
d of the store, one writhing in pain and clutching the stump of an arm just above the elbow with his left hand, the other two sprawled out on the floor with their arms and legs jutting out at weird angles.

  Morcos checked the back door, keeping her pistol trained on the still-moving gunman. Haley hustled down the middle aisle, kicking away the pistols of their three attackers once she reached the far side by Morcos.

  Morcos crouched by the still whimpering one. The arm that Haley had severed off was nearby, having fallen half under the store’s front counter. The fingers curled and twitched erratically.

  “Which one of you is Jeong Schnider?” Morcos asked.

  The man, weaselly looking and face creased with pain, only whimpered in reply.

  “Look, my deputy can get an ambulance here within moments.” Morcos held her open hand up to Haley, indicating she wanted her to wait. “You tell me what I need to know and we’ll get that arm reattached. You don’t tell us, and we’ll wait just long enough that everyone you know will call you Stumpy for the rest of your life.”

  “Jeong…” the man spoke through clenched teeth, still writhing on the floor, “took off a few minutes before you got here. Told us to kill you and then catch up.”

  “Catch up? Catch up where?”

  Chapter 13: Jeong Schnider

  “You okay, deputy?” Morcos led the two of them at a rapid pace through the grey market. “You seem a touch shaken.”

  “Sorry, marshal.” Haley was shaking her head and blinking rapidly. She was surprised at the pace the marshal was setting, given her short stature. “Just, never shot anyone before. Plenty of holotargets, but those don’t flop around on the floor afterwards in agony because you just cauterized their arm off at the elbow.”

  The two officers had taken off as soon as the constables arrived, shouldering their way through the crowd that had gathered to watch the firefight in the store from what Morcos considered a remarkably unsafe distance. Schnider’s destination was one of the commercial docking bays nearby, with a ticket for a light freighter heading out of the system.

  “We have to catch up to Schnider before he gets on that ship,” Morcos said over her shoulder, pushing through the crowd. “With the drydocks closed, if he gets into space there’s no way we’ll be able to catch up.”

  “Sorry, sir. I’ll try to—” Haley grunted as she bounced off a passing pedestrian. She recovered quickly, scrambling to catch up to Morcos who had just stepped free of the grey market and back onto the wider street.

  “Don’t worry about it, deputy.” Morcos waved for a taxi, which sped over. “I’ve never used a lethal weapon on anyone either.” The two piled into the hover and Haley programmed in their destination as quickly as possible. “It’s one of the reasons I use a stunner.”

  “Are they difficult to use?” Haley leaned back as the taxi sped up. “In basic we were told that they’re unreliable.”

  Morcos shrugged. “Mostly propaganda spread by other weapon manufacturers. The stunners work fine. Only trouble is that you have to hit the target in the head for it to work. Otherwise it just smarts. A bit like being stung by a wasp. Painful, but ignorable.”

  Haley nodded. The two men Morcos had dropped in the store with the stunner had been under cover and moving, and the marshal had shot both between the eyes without difficulty. “Does it ever kill?”

  Morcos shook her head. “I don’t understand the physics very well, to be honest, but I know that the manufacturer states a less than one in a million lethality probability for targets over the age of five. Variable stun length though. Could be two hours, could be fifteen minutes.”

  Haley nodded. “Maybe I should switch. Can I see yours?”

  Morcos nodded and slowly drew the pistol. “It’s a little bit heavier than a laser pistol. And you have to be careful not to touch the barrels when you shoot. So no bracing against your forearm.” She passed the pistol to Haley hilt-first, holding the barrels herself.

  Haley took the pistol, dipping slightly as she adjusted for its weight. “Wow, it is heavy.” She held it in both hands, aiming at an imaginary target at the front of the taxi. “Nice balance to it, though.”

  Morcos nodded, looking out the window. “Looks like we’re here, deputy.” She reached out for the stunner.

  Haley spun and fired the stunner almost point-blank at Morcos. The bolt threw the marshal’s arms up, smashing her against the taxi door before slumping in her seat.

  Haley cringed as the smell of ozone filled the small cab. She tossed the stunner on the chair next to Morcos. “Sorry, Marshal. I think I’ll stick with the laser pistol for now.”

  She opened the door and took off towards the docks.

  Haley drew her laser pistol as she ran. The commercial docking area was wide and filled with crates and robotic loaders, the huge loading-walkers striding along marked paths on the floor. Haley could see the light freighter itself, docked to the outside of the station, through a nearby window. The two long rectangular cargo pods of the ship were both connected at the front to the station’s standard airlocks in such a way that obscured the view to the long slender cylindrical starship that connected the two pods and would hold the crew, a few passengers, and the fusion drive.

  One airlock was closed already, indicating that the ship was either fully or almost fully loaded. The other airlock, further from Haley down the corridor, was half-closed, to the point that an adult could still walk into the starship unobstructed, but the large automated loading robots could not.

  Haley spotted her target. Schnider was a tall man, wide face, blunt nose, and a receding hairline. He was busy talking with another man, both of them dressed in plain blue coveralls and looking intently at their datapads.

  Haley pointed her pistol at Schnider. She tried to swallow around the lump in her throat.

  One of the civilians walking nearby saw her weapon. He screamed, a wordless wail of terror, pushing people out of his way as he scrambled away from her. In a moment, dozens of people had started shouting and running in all directions.

  Schnider’s head snapped up, looking at Haley with eyes filled with hate. He snarled a wordless curse and pushed the man he was talking to at the deputy.

  Haley dodged out of the way of the fumbling man, but it threw her aim off and the laser bolt flew towards the ceiling. Schnider was able to dive through the half-closed airlock behind him. Haley cursed and ran forwards.

  The airlock door began to close, an amber light flashing and an alarm klaxon blaring as she approached. The huge door, lowering from the ceiling towards the floor, only had a few more meters to go before being completely sealed.

  Haley threw herself on the ground, aiming along the floor of the corridor through the still closing airlock door. She had Schnider in her sights, the man running in a crouched position, his hands pumping as he tried to get down the long central corridor of the cargo container attached to the freighter.

  Haley grit her teeth, and then everything went black.

  Morcos sighed in relief as she saw Haley’s hand go limp and the laser pistol drop onto the floor before her deputy had a chance to fire. Her arm still stung where she had blocked Haley’s stunner bolt before leaving the taxi. It had been a calculated risk to pretend to be unconscious long enough that she could follow her deputy to determine why she had tried to knock Morcos out before chasing after Schnider. Now she was pretty sure she knew the reason.

  Still, she wouldn’t be sure if she couldn’t catch Schnider, and the airlock was only a handspan open. It was too small for her to fit through, and as soon as it was completely closed and pressurized, the freighter would be cleared to leave and Morcos would lose Schnider.

  Morcos rushed over to the control panel for the airlock and frantically tried to reverse the process. Normally, a confirmation of her marshal status would be enough to lock the docking clamps and reopen the ship, but the owner of this vessel had taken the necessary steps to circumvent lawful authorities stopping departure. Whoever was running this freighter was
doing so illegally.

  She hammered the bulkhead next to the controls with her first and cursed loudly.

  The control panel flickered to life. “Why, hello Ms. Marshal!”

  The image showed the interior cockpit of the freighter, with an attractive Asian woman busily pressing holobuttons and controls. She turned and smiled at the camera.

  “Zousizhe!?” Morcos gasped as she recognized the face on the screen as the smuggler she’d met the day before. “Is this your ship? Never mind! I need your passenger!”

  “Mr. Schinder? Well, he has paid in full, and in cash no less. And that’s rare in this business.”

  “Zousizhe, he might be responsible for the bomb on the Judicator. He’s a dangerous man, and if you leave dock I’ll have no choice but to chase you down. Do you want that kind of heat on you?” Morcos was breathing hard, both hands on the bulkheads to either side of the display.

  The smuggler considered for a moment. “Is that the best you can do? I know the state the drydock is in. Everybody does. You don’t have a starship, Marshal. It’ll take you days, if not weeks to get out of Scorpii, and by then I can be through any one of a dozen jump points. Still,” Zousizhe pursed her lips and leaned back. “It would be nice to have a marshal in my debt…”

  “Stacy, behind you!” Morcos shouted, eyes wide.

  Her warning was too late. Schnider clocked Zousizhe over the head with a wrench.

  “Hey, Marshal.” Schnider slid the limp body of the smuggler out of the captain’s chair. His voice was low and gravelly. “Just wanted to say goodbye before we never see each other again.” He laid the heavy wrench down on the floor next to him.

  “Schnider,” Morcos took a slow breath. “It’s not too late for you.”

  “Oh, but it is, Marshal.” Schnider smiled. “It was too late for me the moment I found out who paid me to put that bomb on the Judicator. I wasn’t supposed to find out. I was supposed to quietly die. But not this man, no sir.” Schnider continued to go through the pre-launch motions. “I’m going to find a nice remote colony, sell off whatever the hell this garbage scow is hauling, and spend the rest of my life drinking cheap whiskey and watching alien sunrises.”