Yeah, they had more mouths to feed and only so far only Shaw had proven capable of cooking food. That had to change.
“As soon as we dock, we’re on the clock. You get out, you get done what needs to be done, and you get back to the ship. No dawdling no sightseeing and no strays, Tika.”
She didn't say anything, but in the back of his mind he could almost envision her flipping him off. Although, maybe she didn’t understand the finger gesture. He’d have to ask her sometime.
True to his word, as soon as they reached port and completed the docking procedures, Shaw disembarked first. Vega followed him. The port master was on hand, and, sure enough, he knew Vega. A quick quiet quick exchange of credits and no ID cards were required. After the PM departed, Shaw waited for Tika and Kestral to depart before he locked down the ship. The other pair would hit the marketplace. Vega told them nearly all foodstuff on EA-955 were sold through one warehouse outlet. The selection would be limited, and Shaw reminded her not to get anything too perishable. It might be dry goods for a while, but it would be better than having it go spoiled.
Shaw followed Vega as far as one of the equipment stations. From there, Vega gave him directions to the local media center. Shaw still had a job to do, he kept his datalink up so he could check on the ship as well as keeping an eye on the trackers he put on both Tika and Vega. Since Kestral had to stick with Tika, he could track him that way too. The third tracker had been placed on Nina, while she slept. It showed her safe and secure aboard the ship.
EA-955 didn't have much going forward as far as he was concerned. The sky possessed a distinct pink color to it and the sun's warmth was noticeably lacking. Fortunately, his duster kept out most of the chill. Even some of the plant life, which looked close but not quite earthen, possessed a distinct reddish cast to it. Maybe it had something to do with radiation from their star.
At the media center, he checked in, requested and was granted access to their library. Another great throwback to Earth, mostly where human settlements were concerned, as soon as they began organizing and building cities and ports, they often added facilities like libraries and research centers. It was useful when one was trying to learn everything they could about the planet.
He started in periodicals. Only this time his research had nothing to do with the planet he was on so much as the Order of the IV. Shaw wanted to know everything this planet knew about them.
Three things he learned from the reading one the Order was not popular on this world. That apparently tried to create a settlement five years prior according to the periodicals date in that calendar he was able to download from Zed. The populace had revolted. The ruling family negated the lease before the Order could move in. What followed were a series of articles detailing rumors about the Order, but nothing substantiated by fact. At least nothing he could find.
He didn't find any mention of prisoners associated with the Order, only acolytes and adherents. Apparently acolytes were considered silent until after they had graduated to an upper level within the Order. Some businesses on EA-955 had objected to the Order’s lease being negated because they wanted access to the business opportunities the Order often brought with them. Mostly scientific, which would gel with what he knew of the founding. Interestingly enough, the only name linked the order in any article he found was Orion Austin.
Orion Austin the founder, who had to have been dead for at least 200 years, so why on Earth would he be the only name they mentioned?
Since leaving Earth, the biggest problem Shaw had confronted was the absence of answers. He had questions by the truckload, but answers were sparse.
His datalink chimed softly and Shaw glanced down to find Vega reporting he procured everything he needed and had returned to the Gilly. He saw no sign of anyone bothering the ship nor any evidence of a landing on any the platforms near theirs. Well, Shaw would accept that good news on face value. Vega planned to get right to work, while Zed ran a full diagnostic on the sensor array.
Shaw sent an acknowledgment then returned to his research. He had approximately fifteen more minutes before he needed to move on to pulling information about the planet. None of his datafiles included planets owned by a single family. Which might be the point. He wasn't the only census taker for Earth, so maybe he simply wasn't one of his assignments. But when he had Zed run a scan of the list of planets he was scheduled to visit over the next four years, this one had not been on the list. Which meant any information he gathered here, he could transmit to them or not. He might have to work on Zed’s log though if he decided not to share his discoveries with the government that employed him.
He found no further articles about the Order that said anything new. When he switched to research about the planet he was surprised to find the articles were sparse about it as they were about the Order. Again, the mention of the primary family which settled the planet included their name, Wynn, and a brief history of their pre-settlement years. They'd made most of their money on Earth during the Industrial Revolution which set them up for several generations. Careful investment and curating of the funds had maintained their family wealth up through the Corbin Space Rush, during which time the family had made a killing on building fast serviceable colonial ships designed to take as many people as possible as far as possible. They cut some corners, but that was glossed over. Which made sense of the periodicals were all written on the planet. Who wanted to bite the hand that feeds it?
Currently the Wynn family owned three planets. Well, business must've really been nice. EA-955 and a sister world within the same system and third world located in the same system as Purgatory based on the star chart listing.
Well, that didn't bode well. The only populated planet in Purgatory system had been Purgatory. So, what if the family owned that one, too? Obviously, that was a clearinghouse for the Order. Was that how they contacted them about making a base here?
Downloading some of the data to his link, Shaw wrapped up his research. His time was up, and he needed to head back toward the Gilly.
Outside he stared up at the pink skies and shook his head. Only time he ever wanted to see pink skies were in the evening with a perfect Texas sunset. Pink was not his color. A librarian hurried after him as he strode down the steps calling “Sir, sir.”
Wary as always, Shaw pivoted to face the newcomer. An obsequious looking little fellow not much more than 5’4, with a receding hairline and thick jowls who seemed out of shape. The short run down the steps left him completely out of breath. “Yes?”
“My apologies, sir. I just received word that you have been invited up to the Wynn Palace.”
“Why?”
The man looked offended at the very idea of the question. “It's a great honor to be invited by the Wynns. Your inquiries into the family and the business were noticed. They sent someone to take a look. Then they left an invitation for you. I was to wait until you were ready to leave, then to issue it. I apologize for not catching before you stepped outside.”
All curiosity aside, the last thing Shaw wanted was to be noticed. The fact that his searches had earned him such notice and someone had come to check him out set off warning bells. He tapped a pre-set code onto his datalink to notify Vega, Tika, and Kestral that they might've been compromised. It would urge all of them to get back to the Gilly as soon as possible. “If you wouldn't mind, please extend my regards and thank them for the invitation, but I must decline.” Instead of wait for the man's response, he simply turned and continued down the steps.
“Sir,” the little man chased after him. “You can't turn it down.”
Three heavily armed men stepping out of the land vehicle at the base of the steps seem to reinforce the librarian’s point.
“Let me guess?” Shaw said. “You're my ride.”
* * *
Larry, Moe, and Curly weren't forthcoming with any information. Their presence however made it clear Shaw couldn't decline. On the upside, they didn't try to remove his weapons. On the downside, he was stuc
k in the back of their vehicle as it left the library area then proceeded in the complete opposite direction of the spaceport and heading out of the city. A part of him wondered if the pink skies had more to do with smog at the port, but the further into the so-called countryside he went, the deeper the pink became.
He'd seen several worlds on his journeys, some that he would be really interested in staying on. This was not one of them. The duster covered his datalink but he kept it active so Zed could track him. They'd already run into his being too far from the ship during conflict before. He wasn't planning on a repeat experience of having to have the Gilly drop in to a firefight to extract him. The farther from the city they went, the less the population. The house they parked in front of was an actual palace. The Wynns definitely had an inflated sense of self-worth.
Great. Stepping out, Shaw rolled his head from side to side to let his neck crack before setting his hat on his head. Fortunately, his granny had raised him right. He had manners. His three armed escorts moved in to flank him, one on each side with the third stepping ahead.
“This way, Mr. Sullivan.”
“Captain Sullivan.” One thing he learned, dealing with the wealthy and the entitled, titles mattered. Not to mention he was a captain. What he was a captain of…well, that was none of their damn business.
They escorted him into a marble-lined foyer with gold filigree edging the walls and bannister of a grand staircase. The light changed the moment he stepped inside, as though filters had been put in place to mute the pink of the light. It enhanced the white in the marble and the gleam of gold, as well as other rich textures in the tapestries and paintings. At least one of the paintings look like a Monet. Not that he would bet money on his grasp of art history, but he had seen one in books before.
“So do we just stand here all day? Or what?” Shaw asked of his escort when they took position and didn’t move or say anything.
From above, a voice called, “Thank you, gentlemen, I'll take it from here.”
Larry, Moe, and Curly made their exit without a single word between them, leaving Shaw to watch as some fancy pants descended the staircase. The man flashed what seemed to be a warm smile, but it didn't quite reach his cool assessing eyes. Extending a hand to Shaw, he said, “The name is Byron Wynn. Welcome to WynnFair One. May I offer you a drink?”
After gripping his hand briefly Shaw released him and shook his head. “Actually, I'd rather just get back to what I was doing. I apologize for seeming rude, but I'm on the clock. I wasn't expecting an invitation.” He didn’t bother to add the invitation wasn’t welcome. The man had to know or he wouldn’t have sent armed guards to escort him.
Byron motioned toward a side room, adding, “My apologies. However once I saw that you had docked here and that you were at the library, I needed to speak to you. I thought this would be the best way to do it.”
The alarm bells he had been dealing with for the last several days, claimed so loudly they threatened to deafen Shaw. “And how do you know me?”
The other man entered what looked to be a sumptuous sitting room, full of luxurious furniture and decorated with items that could probably pay off the national debt. He went directly over to the bar, well-stocked right down to the crystal decanters. Rare and expensive in this day and age, filled with different shades of amber liquid. “I know a great deal about you, Captain Sullivan. I like to do my research.”
Mr. Wynn poured himself a drink, then gave Shaw an inquiring look. He shook his head—no way he was going to eat or drink anything. Only a fool allowed himself to be sucked in by what a host he had never met before offered, especially when said host seemed to know so much about him.
“I like you, Captain Sullivan, you are a very straightforward man. So far, everyone I've spoken to about you seems to agree.”
Everyone he’d spoken to—Shaw kept his cool. One of his tasks as a census taker was to keep a low profile. Apparently, he hadn't succeeded.
“I need you to understand that what I'm about to tell you, very few people know.” Wynn tossed back his drink and set the glass down on the bar. “I'm extremely wealthy.”
“You don't say.”
A faint smile touched the corners of the other man's mouth. “That's not the part I was referring to. However it does provide you with some context for what I'm about to say. I'm an extremely wealthy man. I come from extremely wealthy family. As you may have noticed, I own this planet. Well, actually, my family owns this planet.”
“Apparently, they own three planets.” If he wanted to share, Shaw wasn't going to stop him.
“If you want to be completely technical, it’s probably closer to seven planets, but only three are actually titled to us.”
Honesty, always the best policy, even when it made a person feel vaguely nauseous.
“The wealth isn't the problem, but it is the source of the problem. With extreme wealth comes extreme luxury and extreme options and, even worse, extreme curiosity.” Wynn paced a short distance then returned to the bar and poured himself another drink, an almost restrained restlessness about him. Swirling the amber liquid around in the crystal glass he stared at it and not Shaw. “Extreme curiosity can be a great thing when you're looking to fix a problem or create new opportunities. It's not so great when the chances you take cause harm to others. I offer you no defense on the matter, I truly did not think about what I had been doing before I got involved.”
Well, this just got interesting. His datalink buzzed, warning him someone was trying to reach him. He tapped the preset code to let his crew know he was okay so far. “Very few people look beyond the horizon of their goal.” Shaw's goal, of course, had been to save his family's ranch. He could never imagine that his option for saving it would involve a ship in the middle of deep space, spying on colony worlds, and collecting the crew. But look where he was.
“Very true. Very true.” Wynn nodded slowly. “I appreciate that you understand this. Captain I began tracking your movements about three months ago. You see, I've been involved in something that I thought had great applications for the future civilization. Behavior modification being something that's as difficult for the wealthy as it is for the criminals—it's odd how alike the two are. When you're extremely wealthy, you see no obstacles to what you want. If you're criminal or have criminal tendencies, you also don't see any obstacles to what you want. We both just obtain what we desire through whatever means necessary. Then there are people like you, who weigh all your options and do your best to make the best choice.”
Shaw wasn't really sure where he was going with this, but he really didn't like the idea that he was being lumped into the middle. Or the fact that this man had apparently been tracking him for months. He needed to go over the Gilly with a fine toothcomb. If there was a tracker on board, he wanted it the hell off his ship.
“But I digress, my apologies. Several members of my family aren't very ethical when it comes to spending their wealth, taking advantage of what life has to offer them. Or not, as the case may be. Even if life doesn't offer it to them if they wanted they take it.”
Something about the way his eyes shadowed and the way he phrased a statement made Shaw think about purgatory. Was that an example of his family taking something that they wanted? If so, they sure did a terrible job of taking care of it.
“Ever since the first Settler Wars, we've learned that colonizing space didn't make us better as a people. On Earth, we battled over land, resources, and power. Out here we battle over planets, land, resources and power. Nothing's changed, only the location. After the Second Settler Wars, some of the colonies grew more insular. Others created alliances, the Greek planet states for example.”
Yeah, he knew about Tika. From the way he phrased his sentence to the manner in which he delivered it, he’d practically admitted it.
“The Greek planet states are probably one of the strongest alliance systems, because they have five planets, all wealthy, all extremely well organized, and very dedicated to maintaining thei
r way of life. Then there were families like mine, who sought to get our finger into everything, to try and manipulate it from behind the scenes. In some cases, we were successful, perhaps too successful. Yet, it still didn't eliminate the problem.” He tossed back his drink.
“Not that I want to rush you, but if you could sort of hone in on the point here, that would be great.”
Wynn laughed. No humor actually existed in the sound, but he did laugh. “Very few men what have the balls to tell me to hurry up.”
“You need to hang out with a new type of man. I have places to go and things to do, Mr. Wynn, so either get to the point, or I'll make it for you.” There was polite and then there was the setting terms. Shaw had reached the point where he wanted to simply set the terms. He wasn't here for this man's entertainment or to absolve him of whatever guilt seemed to be haunting him.
“Fine, I'll get to the point. I started tracking you two planets ago. I found a way to shadow you when you made the jump to subspace.” Well, that explains the blip. “I'm not the only one in pursuit. You picked up a passenger, a fugitive. I believe her registry number is 9-A.”
Shaw folded his arms and simply stared.
“No denials? No agreements? You’re a cool customer.”
Shaw still said nothing.
“9-A was the subject of a series of experiments done in behavioral modification. The goal was to reset behavioral patterns to more socially acceptable norms. The dossier they provided for her listed her as a serial killer.”
Okay. Wynn had his attention now, but Shaw still wasn't going to comment.
“So we performed the procedure on her.” Procedure. Conversion.
“You’re Order of the IV.” Verbalizing the thought hadn’t been his intention, but if Wynn was a part of that nutjob order, he needed to know.
“I was.”
Space Cowboy Survival Guide Page 16