Calculated Risk

by K. S. Ferguson

  The doctor arched an eyebrow, chuckling. "Down, girl. I'm just the friendly neighborhood quack, not your competition."

  Nonplussed, Kama shifted her frown to him. He wiped the smile from his own face and turned to Janice.

  "Did you know Todd and Rodriguez well?"

  Both carefully plucked eyebrows lifted. "Discretion is my watchword, honey. I don't go around flashing my client list, even when clients are no longer among the living. You do know that Rodriguez had a wife and two kids back on Mars?"

  "No, I didn't know that." A pang of sympathy lanced through his chest. "I'm sorry to hear it. I was just wondering who their friends were, who they hung out with. I didn't mean to pry into whether they were your clients."

  Janice gave him a shrewd look. "You think someone was in on the bombing with them."

  "I'm trying to make sense of why they died. It seems such a waste. If I knew more about them…" He waited, the silence in the room filled only by Warner's labored breathing and the beep of the medical monitor.

  The doctor's lips thinned. She caught the medic's eye and jerked her chin toward the door. He left, muttering something about a second breakfast and days until departure.

  "Juan and Davy spent their time—and a lot of money—with Jay, not me. Jay and Davy used to be partners in a prospecting ship three or four years ago."

  This was information that should have been in the background reports. Rafe glanced at Kama. Her eyes flickered, as though she read something.

  "The Soledad?" she asked. "It was owned by some investment firm, not Maltraw and Todd."

  "That's the one," the doctor replied. "It was supposed to be the start of a fleet. They made decent money, but Davy couldn't hang onto his, whereas Jay saved to invest in something better—or at least that's how Jay tells the story. So they split and let their backers take the ship. Davy came to the station, and Jay bought the emporium."

  "What was it Davy spent his money on?" Rafe asked, feeling like they might finally be making progress.

  "Bad bets. He wasn't as addicted to gambling as that Yuri Roshal, but he always seemed to find a few more credits to flush down the toilet on long shots. Jay'll be pissed that he died. He owed a good sized tab."

  So now we know where Roshal's money goes. Rafe leaned closer and dropped his voice. "Sounds like he was losing more than he earned. Any idea where the money came from?"

  Janice turned away and fiddled with Warner's IV. Then she checked his monitor. "I don't like to speak ill of the dead."

  Rafe rubbed his chin. He'd have to be careful about what he said. The doctor and Browning were too close, and Browning remained a prime suspect. He couldn't reveal anything he didn't want the smelter supervisor to also know. At least Kama seemed content to let him take the lead, and he thanked his lucky stars for that.

  "Juan's wife and kids don't deserve to be without a husband and a father. If someone talked him and Davy into getting involved, that person should suffer the consequences, too, don't you think?"

  The doctor grimaced. "There's no justice in this galaxy, no balancing of the scales. Good people die, bad people walk free. There's nothing I can do about it."

  "Yes, there is," Kama said, stepping closer, her face so fierce that Janice moved back. "It's because good people believe they're powerless that justice has become a joke. But it doesn't have to be that way. You can take a stand, right here, right now, and make a difference instead of making excuses."

  The force of Kama's passion made his toes curl. His admiration of her soared, along with a burning desire to know her better, spend more time with her—maybe the rest of his life, if she'd have him.

  Cowed, the doctor refused to meet her eyes, and addressed Rafe instead.

  "I don't know anything for sure, but Jay implied Davy and Juan might be tagging asteroids to make extra money on the side."

  "Tagging asteroids?" He shrugged. "Sorry, I thought that was their job?"

  "Out here, most prospectors are independent contractors. They sell their finds to the highest bidder. That's all very well for companies like Steele or Galaxy, but it means the little guys like Independent can't get the better rocks because they can't outbid the big corps. So the smaller companies don't use contractors. They pay their prospectors just like regular employees, based on the hours they work instead of the finds they make.

  "But some crooked hourly employees still sell their better finds to companies like Steele on the sly. If they locate a quality asteroid, they'll tag it with one of Steele's beacons and report to their own company that it was worthless. They get paid for their time by their company, and they paid by Steele for the tag."

  The amount of fraud being perpetrated at the station astounded Rafe, and after nine years running Security Partners, he thought he'd seen it all. I need to open a branch office out here.

  "Did you tell anyone at the station about your suspicions?" he asked.

  "Not Ed, if that's what you're asking," Janice replied, her words encased in ice.

  "What about Levine? Did he know?" Kama asked. "I heard he and Todd were friends from their Mars Dev days."

  "Beats me," the doctor responded. "I didn't go to the station, and Levine never came to the emporium. He didn't approve of Jay's operation."

  "And Yuri? Were he and Davy friends?" Rafe said.

  Janice laughed. "Pull the other one. No one is friends with Yuri. You seen that stupid yellow Aerosaurs shirt of his?" When he and Kama both nodded, she continued. "Eighteen months ago, the Aerosaurs had a big match against the Wandermere Poseidons for some interplanetary soccer championship. Yuri told everyone he was backing Wandermere, and because he knows his sports, most of the station followed his lead.

  "The Aerosaurs ended up walking the game—turned out they'd poached Wandermere's star player just before the match—and the guys all lost their money. But not Yuri. He'd lied to everyone to drive up the odds because he'd known all along about the switch and backed the Aerosaurs. He's been wearing that shirt ever since, just to rub the guys' noses in it."

  Rafe exhaled through his teeth. It was a wonder they hadn't had more murders out here with the amount of cheating, swindling, and fraud going on. The sense of forward progress dissolved into a morass of tangled connections that led nowhere and everywhere. They'd never get to the murderer at this rate, and time was running out.

  Janice insisted on applying burn ointment to his hands before letting him leave. She also waved a med scanner over him and seemed surprised at the results. When he asked how he was doing, her only reply was, "Better than I expected."

  He and Kama wandered the corridors until they arrived at a mess hall a third full with miners. Kama made a cup of tea for herself and took a seat at a table well removed from the others. Rafe looked over the breakfast choices, settled on a bagel and cream cheese as the least disgusting, and hoped the coffee was drinkable. By the time he'd joined Kama, she'd torn the wrapper from another ration bar and was munching it while she typed something on her nanocom.

  "What are you up to?" he asked.

  She glanced around. "Chasing the money."

  "Ah." They ought to let EA do that, but he doubted that anything he'd say would stop her. The cream cheese had the consistency of half-hardened glue, but without the appealing aroma. He spread it on the stale, dry bagel and took a bite. One was enough. He put it aside and tried the coffee, which proved weak and bitter. His stomach growled loud enough for Kama to notice. She pulled another ration bar from her duffel and slid it across the table without looking up.

  "Now aren't you glad you bought these?" she said.

  Grudgingly, he unwrapped the bar and nibbled at it. It wasn't quite as bad as he remembered from his days in the service, and infinitely better than the bagel. He couldn't wait to return to Mumbai and cook himself a decent meal. He washed the bar down with the bad coffee and thought about what he'd say to Leon.

  If the CEO knew about Amaya's stock purchases, then the idea of a stealth takeover went out the window. But if he knew nothi
ng of what his wife was up to, it put Amaya squarely in the picture as the blackmailer. They should be looking for connections between Levine and Amaya, he realized. Or Amaya and anyone else on the station.

  "Kama, do you have the records Oasis dug up on Amaya?"

  She smiled. "I wondered how long it would take you to ask. Samir's already looking for links to station personnel. If he turns up anything, he'll let me know immediately."

  Rafe frowned. "I thought we discussed the confidentiality of the information I shared with you."

  Kama laughed. "Samir's response was much the same when I told him you were helping with my inquiries. He asked—facetiously, I assume—whether he should send a formal contract with mutual non-disclosure statements for both sides to sign and wondered what your rate would be. He's very budget conscious."

  "Who is this Samir?" he asked, suddenly worried that he'd trusted her with too much information.

  "He's my boss, and he's not at all happy about you, either, if it makes you feel any better." Amusement danced in her eyes. "Nothing will end up in Goldman's file that wasn't already there."

  Irritation made his aching head pound harder. "How can you be sure?"

  "Because Oasis' security system was my second hacking conquest. I can remove anything Samir adds, and he knows it. He'll respect my request to keep things off the record."

  Rafe's irritation grew. "And Samir's boss? Will he be told? It's not just files I'm worried about. People talk. Leaks have a way of developing."

  She sighed. "Perhaps you should check your own files if you want assurance. Security Partners must have a dossier on Samir Ganguly."

  The air in the mess hall seemed suddenly thinned, as though all the oxygen had whooshed out in a hull breech. Samir Ganguly, rumored to be the real head of Oasis security, the man behind the official public puppet listed in Oasis corporate brochures. Security Partners had a dossier all right, as did EA; a very thin dossier with lots of supposition about events he may have been involved with, planned, and carried to completion, and without one shred of proof. Some people wondered whether he even existed.

  Not only real, but Kama's boss. His handiwork leaned toward the macabre. She didn't seem the type to be working with someone like Ganguly.

  "Why do you do it?" he asked.

  She looked at him with serious brown eyes. "Someone has to. EA politicians are owned by the corporations and do nothing to curb corporate power. Law enforcement is contracted out to more corporations and works to protect corporate interests, not the people.

  "A culture that values greed and profits above human welfare surrounds corporate executives, making them blind to the pain their decisions inflict. Should a man with the moral strength and courage to look beyond the bottom line, to resist the temptations of boundless wealth and power, rise in the corporate structure, he'll be booted out by the board of directors, lest others follow his example."

  "And stealing corporate secrets keeps the corporations in check?" Rafe said, anger overtaking his concerns for her affiliations. He resented her sweeping generalizations. He was a CEO, and he wasn't some evil bastard trampling on the little people. "I expect you make good money selling what you steal. Or do you donate it all to charity?"

  She snorted. "You're familiar with SinoChem and the bad press they've had lately?"

  "Vaguely. A whistleblower inside their company released internal documents showing they knew their new pesticide caused a rise in birth defects, but they released it anyway." He frowned. "You had something to do with that?"

  "Easier to blame a whistleblower than to admit you don't know how the information leaked. Because the documents leaked, a class action suit has been started against them that will benefit the handicapped children harmed by their product." She took a sip of her tea. "Surely you saw the news vids of the thirteen year old girl working in a shoe factory in Brazil who was beaten to death by her floor supervisor for asking for a toilet break?"

  "Yes, I remember it." The footage had brought tears to his eyes.

  "It came from an internal security camera positioned to stop employee theft." She watched him, her face cold and immobile. "When a week passed and the company that owned the factory did nothing to acknowledge the death or punish the manager, I made sure the video reached the news media. Their share prices plummeted. They're now the target of a take-over by a company with more respect for workers' rights."

  Rafe shifted, uncomfortable under her gaze. He wondered how many employees would be made redundant by the takeover, but he sensed thin ice. "No matter how noble your cause, it's still wrong to steal the information."

  "No," she said, her mouth turning down. "It's illegal, but it isn't wrong. We agreed to help one another, McTavish. To trust one another. Have you changed your mind?"

  Rafe swallowed, thinking he was in way over his head and hoping she didn't lump him with the corporate types she'd described. He took good care of his employees, treated his customers fairly, and made regular charitable donations to worthy causes. Of course he watched the bottom line; after all, he was a businessman. That didn't make him Satan's second cousin, did it?

  "No, I haven't changed my mind." He stood. "If we're going to meet Leon when he docks, we better get moving."

  In the corridors, the miners moved toward the storage bay where Leon would address them. Rafe and Kama walked the opposite direction, toward the runabout bays. When they drew close, he stopped. Browning, Roshal, and Miss Patty waited near the bay door.

  "When Leon announces the bounty, there'll be a stampede instead of an orderly search. Maybe it would be best if you were already in hydroponics and could divert everyone away from the body," he suggested. "I'll stick with Leon. Our killer won't want to approach and negotiate a sale for the Oasis document with an Oasis representative looking over Leon's shoulder."

  Rafe received a simple nod for a reply and continued to the bay door. He heard Kama's soft footfalls retreating down the corridor and wished she didn't have to go.

  Browning had changed into a decent, long-sleeved shirt that covered his prison tattoo, a pair of slacks, and well-worn dress shoes recently polished. Roshal had traded his hideous Aerosaurs t-shirt for a threadbare pea green work shirt, blue jeans, and scuffed boots. Miss Patty wore another of her old-fashioned frilly dresses.

  Rafe noted that while she was over sixty and female, she was strongly built. Levine was a little guy. Rafe imagined her hoisting the man's body into the hydroponic vat. She could do it, he decided.

  They heard the outer bay doors close. A few moments later, the door before them opened. Cookie, clearly the squad leader for this assignment, and three other crewmen stepped through into the corridor. While Cookie did a quick visual check of the station personnel for weapons, the other three dispersed in both directions of the corridor. When Leon emerged, one of the remaining crewmen joined him. The other stayed behind to keep an eye on the runabout.

  "Mr. Goldman, I'm Edgar Browning." He offered his hand.

  "Let's skip the formalities, shall we?" said Leon, ignoring the hand. "You have the workers assembled?"

  "Yes, sir, in one of the storage bays." Browning dropped his hand and glanced at Rafe, who shrugged in reply.

  "Lead the way."

  Rafe caught Cookie's eye and flicked a hand. Cookie nodded, passed barely perceptible hand signals to the other crewmen, and hung back while the group moved down the corridor. When they were out of earshot, Cookie and Rafe fell in behind them.

  "Last night, a killer tried to take me out with a bomb," Rafe told him, voice low. "I believe the three people with Leon are the prime suspects, but whoever it is, he or she is not above using hired help. Keep your perimeter well back, watch for suspicious packages. You know the drill."

  "You think they'll try for Mr. Goldman while he's here on the station?" Cookie asked, face grim.

  "I wish I knew, but we can't take any chances." They both lengthened their strides. "And Cookie, there's an Oasis technician on the station. She's helping me with the inves
tigation. Consider her my second."

  "How will I recognize her, sir?"

  Without thinking, he said, "She's the most intelligent and beautiful woman in the galaxy." Cookie looked perplexed, and Rafe stumbled on, trying to recover his composure. "She's also the only other woman on the station besides Miss Patty, the one walking with Mr. Goldman."

  "Yes, sir."

  On the long walk to the storage bay, Leon set a brisk pace, and Miss Patty scurried to keep up. Browning puffed along like a steam engine with a leaky boiler and made no attempt at conversation with his new boss. Roshal sauntered behind on his long, loose legs, hands jammed in jean pockets. Rafe found the pace to be too much and gradually lost ground. His ribs still ached despite Janice's miracle cure for his internal bleeding.

  Roshal looked back, saw him lagging, and waited.

  "Say, Mr. McTavish, did you speak to Mr. Goldman about how I tried to help you out?" he asked in a low voice. "I know I didn't get you over to his ship, but that wasn't my fault."

  "Sorry, Yuri, I haven't had an opportunity. I'll be meeting with him later, though."

  They walked in silence. Rafe glimpsed the storage bay ahead.

  "When do you think he'll let us go back to work?" the shipping manager asked. "We got customers asking where their ore is, and we all need our paychecks. Mr. Goldman won't want to lose paying customers, will he? Maybe you could speak to him? Speed things up?"

  "I can't make any promises, but perhaps I can have a word," he said, his side aching.

  Roshal ambled through the storage bay door, and Browning waved his arms at the assembly. "Men, this is Mr. Goldman, CEO of EcoMech, the new owner of the station. He'd like to say a few words."

  Leon stepped in front of the men, looking like a lion deciding which zebra to cut out of the herd. "As you know, I sent a security detail to intercept a cargo drone believed to be the escape vehicle used by your former manager to leave the station."

  The miners waited, tense and glowering. Leon's security squad watched the crowd, hands in bulging pockets where Rafe suspected they kept stunners. The miners were unarmed, but plenty of potential weapons lay around the storage bay if another riot began.