by Scott Moon
"I'm very impressed," Dickles said. "But we've wasted an entire day. I knew this wouldn't work.”
A new group of swimmers emerged from the water. They dragged long vines that were heavy with multicolored leaves. Primarily dark green or red, there were other buds of plant matter Mast had heard of but never believed he would see—white, pink, yellow, and orange. Vivid violet and crystalline blue.
"It's like a rainbow," Quark said. "I've never seen anything like it.”
Even Dickles was on his feet. "Should we help them drag it in?"
"No, we should muchly not do that. They would think we are trying to claim some of it for ourselves.” Mast moved close, but was careful not to intrude upon their work.
"What is it?" Quark asked.
"Some kind of algae?” Dickles said.
"It is what tigi was originally fermented from, far better than peaches. Legends of the first tigi say it had magical powers and would one day lead to great things for the people of Ungwilook.”
“Really?” Quark asked.
The young man’s amazement was refreshing. Mast was glad he had come.
At the same time, Quark was expressing his fascination, P. C. Dickles was cursing and backing away. "No, no, no. That's all we need is more drunken mischief in Darklanding. I have a hard-enough time getting my human workers sober. Now I'm back to having my Ungloks asking for tigi days.”
“A tigi day is a wonderful thing!" Mast said. "This is the original source of my people’s favorite drink. If they have the recipe as well, this will be a great day! A muchly great day indeed.”
“Uh, I heard them talking about taking this stuff to some other village for fermentation. Didn’t know what they were jabbering about at the time. My Unglok isn’t real good,” Quark said. “Sounded dangerous and like not a lot of them came back.”
“We will cross that bridge when we come upon it,” Mast said.
"I'm worried about my crews getting distracted. With my luck, they'll all run off on some sort of spirit quest to find the distillery,” Dickles said. “Why are you taking your clothing off?”
“I am inspired by my people, not that the Egoak are of my tribe, but we are all one people here on Ungwilook, are we not?"
"Not you, I was talking to Quark.”
"I'm a really good swimmer," Quark said.
"I'm not paying you if you go down there and get confused and swim into a dark cave and get yourself killed," Dickles said.
Quark frowned. "I wouldn't expect you to pay me if I was killed or drowned. That's ridiculous."
"I'm about done with this place, Mast Jotham. Can we skip the swim and just go back to Darklanding so I can spend half the day on a transport to the mines?”
"You must learn to relax! Have some fun, Foreman Dickles!”
“You know I can't swim."
"I did not know that. Perhaps it would be foolish for you to get in the water. Your admission is making me wonder, very muchly wonder, how you can go down in a submarine and not be constantly in fear," Mast said.
He ran to the water, as did many other adults and children from the village. Apparently, the live tigi vines were a signal that everyone should go crazy and dive into the water. Even the musicians threw down their instruments and hurled themselves into the chaos. There was still music because everyone was singing.
Using the strength he had built training with Sheriff Fry, Mast dove far into the water. His technique was substandard. He belly-flopped spectacularly. The Egoak tribespeople laughed, pointed, and then imitated him again and again. It became a new game they all played, young and old.
P. C. Dickles stood on the beach grumbling with a few old Unglok women fussing around him, offering him food and examining the strangeness of his SagCon jumpsuit.
Hundreds of yards of the tigi vines were dragged onto the beach. A select group of villagers carefully rolled them so that none of the flowers or buds were crushed.
Mast returned to the beach several times to check on Dickles, but always went back to the water. He went deeper each time. There was a strange world below the surface. Sunlight streaked down through the crystalline water, refracting through the tigi vines being pulled over the surface. The leaves spread out as though they had been waiting to be released. He looked up in amazement as Unglok children played on the larger mats of floating leaves. More than a few adults tried the same and sank.
He surfaced, took a breath, then swam straight down as far as he could go. The professional divers worked this area, grabbing handholds to pull themselves into shallow caves or just deeper in the overall concavity of the lake. The mountain waterway was a crater of sorts, ancient and mysterious.
Mast observed how it was done and tried to imitate them. Again and again, he went up for air and came back down, each time making better progress. Some of the divers sought out coils of the tigi and struggled to bring them up where they floated after they expanded. Teams of Ungloks pulled the vines out of the water. Others harvested clams and shellfish. A very quick group of Unglok men and women spearfished the shallower parts.
What am I seeing now? Mast thought. He floated in the water before a wall of stone that was barely visible. The cliffs above the lake cast a shadow on the area. The water was cold. None of the other swimmers ventured this way. It was as though they felt it was haunted or at least bad luck. Perhaps it was simply not a good place to fish.
Stretching across the rock surface like spiderwebs were veins of exotic ore like he'd never seen.
Mast stayed where he was longer than he should have. He was out of air and not a great swimmer to begin with. The excitement of seeing tigi vines that he hadn't believed to be real was wearing off. A different kind of excitement and dread filled him now. SagCon survey crews had never been this way. If they had, they would've placed the SagCon mines here.
He swam to the surface in a somber mood and did not speak to Dickles or Quark on the return trip to Darklanding.
"The old women actually gave me some good tips," Dickles said as they walked away from the glider after they landed. "I've been thinking about what they said the entire flight back.”
"We are not flying. We were only gliding," Mast said glumly.
"Fine, we were only gliding," Dickles said. He shook his head and made a slightly confused face. "Those old women seem to know a lot about exotic ore. They didn't solve my submarine problem, but they did point out several of the exotic minerals that are actually easier to extract from the mountains in a water environment. At least I think that's what they said. And they talked about A99, which has never been located on this planet.”
"I am glad your trip was successful. I must return to my domicile and sleep. The tigi they served us was very strong. Perhaps it is best they cannot make it themselves without help from the distant and magical village," Mast said.
“You know what, Mast, I like you. I really do," Dickles said. "But you're awful moody. What happened to all that enthusiasm and positivity?"
"I am very tired. Good evening to you, Mister Dickles.”
CHAPTER SIX: Lovers’ Quarrel
Thaddeus waited until the host of the Red Door walked away, then slid Shaunte's earing across the table. "He was too embarrassed to call you when they found this."
"I've been looking for this!" Shaunte said. She leaned across the small table and kissed him on the lips. "Thank you, Sheriff Fry."
"Never you mind, little lady. It's all in a day’s work.”
They laughed and made senseless, new couple conversation until the waiter arrived to take their order.
"We’ll each have the Melborn strip steak and seasonal vegetables, well done for the lady, barely dead for me,” Thaddeus said, ordering wine as well. "Please bring a dessert menu after the meal."
Shaunte seemed pleased. It wasn't just the expense of the dessert, and the meal in general, but his commitment to spending extra time at the table with her. Lately, they'd always been rushing off to manage one crisis or another. Her emergencies always involved the
imminent collapse of Darklanding as the financial clock ticked down. His callouts were always about violence or thievery.
"I almost miss bad guys like Ike and White Skull,” Thaddeus said. "I need something to break the monotony of my current caseload."
"Don't forget Dregg and Dedra. Those two will make you change your mind about wanting a challenge," Shaunte said.
Thaddeus knew she had a lot to talk about, and probably a million things on her mind. Right now, she was just watching him and listening like everything he said was the most interesting thing in the world. She was putting him on a pedestal. He didn't mind at all.
"You're right. Those incidents seemed a lot less fun when they were happening. I guess I should be glad my current informants are leading me straight to the thieves and smugglers. All I need is more time and a few more deputies, and I might actually keep up with the crime wave.”
"Thaddeus Fry, are you wining and dining me just so you can ask for a bigger budget?"
He laughed. “I'm sure you will have one for me in eighteen months."
The food came and they began to eat, enjoying some of the best cuisine available in the Wilok system. Something was bothering her. Something she was avoiding with pleasant conversation. He shouldn’t complain because he was getting her undivided attention. This would be their best date yet, and they’d had some good ones since his return from Centauri Prime.
“What’s on your mind, Shaunte?”
She pushed the last pieces of steak around her plate. “This was really delicious. Why don’t we come here more often?”
“Because it would bankrupt both of us,” he said.
Music played softly. A candle cast gentle shadows around their small piece of reality.
“I’m going to save Darklanding, maybe all of Ungwilook. But I’m worried. If you asked me what price was too high for prosperity, I wouldn’t have had an answer. Now I’ve seen the good times and the bad times. It does things to people, changes them and the world they live in,” she said.
“Kind of like war,” he said.
“Maybe. I believe in what I am about to do, but I didn’t ask the Ungloks or even the SagCon workers what they wanted. There are nights I lie awake thinking Ungwilook would have been better off if we’d never found the system,” Shaunte said.
“We’ve done some good. We’re trying not to do more harm. Of all the Company Men I’ve encountered, you’re most fair to your workers.
She sat up very straight. “I’m more than fair. What more do they want from me?”
“Hospitals, schools, infrastructure.”
“Those things don’t always work out like people think. But you’re right. If my plans come to fruition, they’ll have all those things and more. Mast Jotham told me about a village he visited recently. Wonderful people having a traditional festival. Lots of swimming and music, I gather. Not all of what he said made sense, but the picture he painted for me was very pure—unspoiled by SagCon or humanity in general.”
“You spoke to Mast?”
“Briefly. He was looking for you very muchly.” She giggled.
“Are you drunk, Shaunte? Because maybe I need to catch up and make my move.”
“Oh, Thad. What am I going to do?”
“Take me home with you.”
She swatted him on the arm. “Well of course, but I meant about Darklanding.”
“Do your job.”
“Not helpful. I define my job. I could live in a luxury space liner and only peek in on the operation twice a year, just collect my salary while I spent my time pursuing other business ventures. Or leverage my available credit to live like a vid star. That’s what the last Company Man did. Or was it the one before him. You get my point.”
“I do, Shaunte.”
“I’ve had an offer from someone I trust. A person my father respects. Right now, I am struggling to keep the SagCon mining operation running.” She sipped her wine. “There is a lot more to Ungwilook than the underwater mines.”
Thad listened. He worried she was getting herself in deeper than any sane person would dare. He’d heard of bargains that companies made with the devil during hard times. Was this such a deal? He wasn’t sure he would know even if she shared the details.
“There is a way to expand everything. Diversify. Broaden the infrastructure and the investment funds. The mines would be a much smaller part of the Ungwilook economy. It’d be easier to make omelets everyday if all my eggs weren’t in one basket. Oh, maybe that analogy needs work. I need you to take me home, Thaddeus Fry. Right now.”
Thad called for the check and paid without looking at the numbers on the price screen. His stomach saw the bill, it seemed, because he developed a sour pain in his gut as soon as he swiped his wrist across the reader. Shaunte normally paid these bills, but she was drunk and vulnerable. He didn’t want to take advantage of her wealth. For all he knew, she didn’t have the money she appeared to have. He’d met a lot of rich people who weren’t rich.
He focused on the sound of her voice, the grace of her movements, and the way her hair smelled when they were close. Some of the best times with Shaunte were when neither of them were talking. Her presence brought him peace and fulfillment that would have sent him running if he wasn’t already caught.
They walked home. None of the desperate men gathered around warming fires dared look at him. His reputation was well established. Only the drunk or very desperate challenged him these days. That would happen tomorrow when he went to work. Everyone resisted arrest because SagCon Central Security, an entity he hadn’t dealt with during his early days on the planet, had filed for hard labor sentences. Stealing from the corporation, or any corporation, even a rival, meant a sentence of asteroid mining or deep space exploration. No one came back.
His chances of quietly talking a suspect into handcuffs decreased each day the financial crisis sharpened, and with it, the desperation of Darklanding’s residents. Your mind is wandering. Knock it off. You’re going home with a beautiful woman who is in love with you. Pay attention, Fry-man.
The job was the job, and the situation was what it was. Darklanding was full of all the action one spaceport couldn’t hold.
Now he understood how much he could’ve gotten away with had he been a bad cop. No one cared right now. As long as exotics flowed into the Melborn-affiliated systems, the Sheriff of Darklanding had free rein. No budget, but complete autonomy when choosing his methods. For him, that meant something like the Uniform Code of Justice—firm but fair. He didn’t want chaos, he wanted the rule of law.
Tonight, all this meant was that no one in their right mind crossed Thaddeus Fry willingly; not on Darklanding.
“Judy Ortega sent teams of surveyors. I sent my own, and confirmed her results, but I worry this is too good to be true,” Shaunte said.
“Judy Ortega? Of Interstellar Enterprises?”
Shaunte waved away his comment as though he weren’t talking about one of the five most influential venture capitalists in the galaxy.
“What if my father does his usual thing, moves in and takes over? Throws me a dividend package and some awards for my resume? What then?”
Thad didn’t know what to say.
“My father threw his girlfriend away just to ask me what I was up to, and that was before he knew the details.”
“You mean my ex-wife?”
“Yes, Thaddeus, I’m talking about your ex-wife. Is that a problem? Are you going to defend her now, maybe run off and comfort her while she’s alone and vulnerable?”
“What did your father do to get rid of her?”
“He said he needed her to be your partner for a while, clean up Darklanding.”
Thad laughed. “She’s too smart for that kind of trick. I bet she saw through it immediately and just left the restaurant to give you two time to talk shop.”
“You’re still standing up for her. Seems like you think she’s smarter than me or my father,” Shaunte said. “What was the attraction between you two? I can b
e an ice queen-bitch-hardass if that’s what you like.”
“Stop it, Shaunte. You know that’s not how it is. Why haven’t I seen my new deputy, if that’s what she is?”
Shaking her head free of the anger and jealousy, Shaunte stepped close and laced one arm through his, urging him to walk. “I’m still mad at you, but you’re right this time. She left the planet. My father went after her.”
“Did we just have a fight? And does that mean we can make up?”
CHAPTER SEVEN: What Quark Knows
“You look tired,” Mast said as he strode into Thad’s office at the Cornelius Vandersun Correctional Facility and Rehab center. The room was small. His desk faced a row of cells with titanium bars. Several escape prevention systems were invisible.
“You mean muchly tired, I assume. Wasn’t sure that was you for a second. Are you taking the language course over again?” Thad said. Something was wrong with his deputy.
“Leslie Stargazer told me I use the word ‘muchly’ too frequently. She was drunk, but probably telling the truth. She’s a straight shooter, tells it like it is, doesn’t hold back, gives me the four-one-one like a boss lady is what she is saying every day,” Mast said.
“That’s the story you’re going with? Are sure there’s not something else you need to tell me?”
Mast blushed. “Um, no, Sheriff Fry. The trip to Egoak Village was very nice. They make me proud to be an Unglok.”
“You look like your dog died.”
“No. Maximus is still here, staying muchly close to the Sheriff of Darklanding instead of Mast Jotham these days.”
Thaddeus wondered if the Unglok could be jealous of the pig-dog-thing, but Maximus wasn’t his dog any more than he was Mast’s pet. “We should stop treating him differently because he walks on four legs.”
“Are you being politically correct?” Mast asked.
Thaddeus had never heard the term.
“One of the history books you told me to read spends a lot of time on the pros and cons of being politically correct,” Mast said. “I believe it may be an oxymoron.”
“I don’t like secrets,” Thad said.