Mystique's Journey

by Daniel A. Jones

  “Mr. Johnson, I have some information I think you will find very interesting,” Nicholas started.

  When Lenny motioned with his glass for him to continue, Nicholas explained, “A client of mine recently contacted me. He needed a few IDs and backgrounds made for some new friends of his.”

  “What’s the point? You don’t have much time left; get to the point,” Lenny said as he took another drink of his scotch. One, or, at the most, two sips, and Names would be out of time.

  “Doctor Lopez looks twenty years younger than he did last time I met him. He didn’t have surgery or any treatment—I checked. It happened during a run he made with Captain Stevenson last month,” Nicholas explained, hoping to pique Lenny’s interest.

  Lenny set his glass down on his desk and turned to Mr. Flanary. Michael Flanary was only five-foot-four and a hundred-fifty pounds, but everyone knew he was a killer. He had the aura of someone who had killed before, and was good at it. His wild green eyes and shoulder-length red hair hid a sharp mind. Mr. Flanary pulled out his phone and started to make a few calls. Lenny looked back at Nicholas and motioned for him to continue.

  Nicholas released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and continued his explanation. “I have a few pictures I took of him.”

  Nicholas opened his briefcase and handed Lenny the images. The first few were of a man in his mid- to late-forties. The next were of the same man, but in these the man couldn’t be over thirty years old. Lenny rechecked the date stamps on the photos and looked up at Nicholas. He knew photos could be doctored, but he also knew Nicholas understood the penalty for lying to him.

  “Okay. Where’s this doctor? I’d like a word with him.”

  “He left. Nelson and the pilot both hired on to the first spaceship leaving the planet. I asked around some and found out that only three members of the Neptune survived a pirate attack. They rescued a few people; they are the ones I made IDs for.” Nicholas would have gone on, but Mr. Flanary interrupted him.

  “Boss, a Captain Stevenson of the Neptune made a run for one of our associates. He and most of his crew didn’t survive the run.”

  “Yeah, that was the ship he was on,” Nicholas broke in only to stop when he realized he’d interrupted Mr. Flanary.

  “If Names is correct, then the only crewmember still on-planet is Sara Tomlin. I have people currently tracking her down.”

  Nicholas waited to make sure Mr. Flanary was finished before opening his mouth. “Sara is working at the shipyard. She lives in the Sunshine Towers, apartment 618.”

  “Pick her up. I will talk to her over diner,” Lenny told Mr. Flanary.

  “Friendly?”

  “Friendly.”

  “Anything else?” Lenny asked Nicholas dismissively.

  “I was hoping there might be a reward for the information,” Nicholas said as he wrung his hands trying to wipe the sweat off them.

  “We’ll see. If it pans out,” Lenny told him. Mr. Flanary took Nicholas’s arm and led him to the door.

  When they reached the outer room, Mr. Flanary requested copies of the fake IDs Nicholas had made for the three people. Nicholas informed him that he had the information at his home, and would have to go retrieve it. Mr. Flanary sent a few men to escort Nicholas and ensure he retrieved the desired information.

  ***

  Bruce sat in his dorm room trying to make sense of what’d happened. Mystique was definitely hiding something, but he wasn’t sure what. Nobody gets that upset about someone checking their personnel file, not even a crook, unless they have something to hide. The idea of finding out what Mystique was hiding both intrigued and scared the crap out of him.

  Bruce couldn’t resist doing a little background search to see what he could find. He was a little surprised when his computer finished its search after only a few minutes. Mystique and her siblings had arrived a month ago from New Sydney on the cargo ship Long Hauler. They had visas issued to them by the Federation Educational Bureau. It listed Angelica Grayson as Mystique’s legal guardian. They all had separate bank accounts, which was kind of odd.

  Bruce checked the starport logs for the arrival of the Long Hauler and found that it had indeed arrived from New Sydney on the date listed. Next, he checked the visa applications. The public information didn’t tell him anything, so he decided to hack into the FEB computer. Hacking into a government agency was risky; if caught, he would probably lose his appointment to the Naval Academy. Bruce bounced his trail through a dozen servers before actually starting to break into their system. To his amazement, the government computer was the same type and age as the school computer. He found the Grayson’s’ visa applications and downloaded them all. He also copied all linked data before backing out and making sure not to leave any trace he had been there.

  A quick look at the data he’d collected was all the time Bruce could afford. He was already late for bed and had to be up in a few hours for his first class. He was still sore from the beating Mystique had given him, but he’d been through worse. He crawled into bed and fell asleep almost instantly, not noticing the figure watching him through his window.

  Mystique climbed the rope back to the roof after she was sure Bruce had fallen asleep. She’d had a feeling he’d be curious and would look more closely into her file. She still had trouble reading, but she understood enough to know he’d found out quite a bit about her. As she coiled her knotted silk climbing rope and slid it into a small belt pouch, Mystique decided she would pay Bruce a visit the next night. He should have all the available information about her by then and she would discover how good her fake ID was.

  ***

  Alan Lemont and Samuel Burkhart were waiting for Bruce outside the computer lab. They knew Bruce had planned to talk to Mystique, and wanted all the juicy details. Bruce saw them and grimaced, knowing what they were waiting to hear. He didn’t want to tell them he’d gotten beat up by a girl, again. Sam noticed Bruce’s expression and started laughing. As he got closer, Alan noticed Bruce’s fat lip and pointed it out to Sam; both of them started to hysterically laugh.

  “How’d it go, Bruiser?” Sam asked between fits of laugher.

  “I told you she was out of your league,” Alan pointed out.

  They didn’t realize that their laughter had attracted the attention of a few other students. Mark was a lineman on the gravball team and one of the biggest bullies on campus. Mark stood six-feet-four and weighed close to two-hundred-and-thirty pounds, making him one of the biggest people in school, including the faculty. Added to that was the fact that he liked to fight and had the reflexes of an athlete. Not many people argued with him. Mark heard the boys laughing and was curious about what was so funny.

  Alan was the first to notice Mark and stop laughing. Sam had his back to Mark and didn’t recognize the warnings Bruce and Alan were signaling to him until it was too late. Mark walked up behind Sam and demanded, “What’s so funny?” Sam froze, expecting Mark to hit him at any moment. Mark, always willing to oblige, slapped Sam on the side of the head and repeated his question.

  Bruce, the bravest and most impulsive of the trio, yelled for Mark to stop hitting his friend. Mark changed targets and set his sights on Bruce. How dare some scrawny little computer geek tell him what to do. Mark slapped Bruce twice before he could even think to bring his hands up to block the attack.

  “So, you going to tell me what’s so funny, twerp?”

  “It was just a joke; nothing special,” Bruce replied.

  Mark decided he needed a little leverage to get them talking, or at least make this a little more fun. He grabbed Bruce’s computer bag and pulled it away from him. Bruce tried to wrestle it back, but he was no match for Mark. Mark smacked Bruce on the head with his left hand as he hoisted the bag over his head with his right.

  “Now, tell me the joke and I might give it back.”

  Mystique had seen enough. The information about her was on Bruce’s computer and he would need it to finish his research. Mystique stepped out
of the crowd of onlookers and tapped Mark on the back. Mark spun around, hoping to find someone to hit, but instead he found the skinny new girl.

  “Return Bruce’s bag and leave him alone and I won’t hurt you,” Mystique said calmly. Mark snorted a laugh and moved to push her away. Mystique reacted by grabbing Mark’s wrist and pulling him toward her. Mark stumbled forward as he was pulled off balance. Mystique punched him in his side, just above his stomach, breaking at least one rib. Mark forgot about the bag as he grabbed his injured side and struggled to breathe. Mystique caught Bruce’s computer bag before it hit the floor.

  Bruce, like everyone else, had gone slack-jawed in amazement that a girl was not only fighting Mark, but winning. Mystique shoved the computer bag into Bruce’s chest with enough force to push him back, causing him to take a hold of it. Mystique spun around in time to see that Mark had recovered from her initial attack. Mark’s vision was clouded with rage as he charged at her. Mystique dropped low and snapped her leg out, driving the heel of her boot into Mark’s knee. The students closest to Mark were able to hear the pop as his knee bent backward, the kneecap shattered by the blow. Most of the students only heard Mark’s scream as he crumpled to the floor in agony. Half of the students turned away, unable to look at the wreckage that used to be a star athlete; the other half watched in morbid fascination.

  ***

  The paramedics assured Mark that he would recover. They gave him a shot of morphine and strapped him onto the stretcher before activating its antigravity pads. They guided him away as campus security questioned all of the students they could gather about what had happened. No one could give a clear description of the person who had attacked Mark. The attacker was a female student with dark hair was about the best they could do.

  Lieutenant MacDonald was in charge of the investigation and spent almost an hour interrogating Bruce, since everyone had seen the attacker hand him the computer bag. Bruce tried to claim he didn’t know the attacker, but in the end admitted that the attacker looked like Mystique Grayson. Bruce couldn’t help but feel that he had betrayed Mystique. She’d intervened on his behalf and now he was setting security on her. The lieutenant sent for Miss Grayson.

  Mystique was in her basic computer studies class when the security officers found her. She had expected them sooner and was starting to think Bruce wouldn’t name her. He was the only one there who knew her. She was only a little disappointed that he’d turned her in. He must have held out for at least a while and he really didn’t owe her any kind of loyalty. The officers talked to her teacher and then asked her to accompany them. She collected her things and followed them out. They escorted her to the classroom next to where the fight had taken place.

  Mystique was ushered inside to meet with Lieutenant MacDonald. He was an older gentleman in his late-forties. He was only a few inches taller than Mystique, but he was at least twice her weight, the buttons at his stomach straining to hold his shirt closed. He motioned for her to take a seat near him and Bruce. Bruce saw her and turned away, but not before Mystique was able to see the tear tracks marking his red face. Mystique gave serious thought to killing Lieutenant MacDonald right where he sat.

  “You sent for me?” Mystique asked in the most innocent voice she could muster.

  “Yes. What do you know of the attack on Mark Philips?” the lieutenant asked.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m new here. I don’t know anyone by that name. Was he hurt badly?”

  “Don’t lie to me, young lady. Mark Philips is the boy you attacked earlier,” Lt. MacDonald snapped.

  “Oh, him. I was defending myself. I hope I didn’t hurt him too much,” Mystique admitted innocently.

  “He will be in the hospital for at least a few weeks. According to your file, you are enrolled in the advanced martial arts program. Have you been training long?”

  “Almost everyone on New Sydney trains in some form of hand-to-hand combat. They don’t teach knife fighting here, so I am training in judo and jujitsu.” Mystique decided to volunteer information they were likely to find anyway. If she tried to hide something and the lieutenant found out about it, she figured she would look even more suspicious.

  “Are you trained in knife fighting?” the lieutenant asked conversationally.

  “Yes. I have a collection in my dorm room and I also carry a few with me at all times for protection.”

  “Excuse me. You’re carrying knives on your person now?” Lt. MacDonald asked as he stood up and rested his hand on the butt of his pistol.

  “Yes. I have seven, counting the throwing spikes,” Mystique said with a smile.

  “You’re not allowed to carry weapons of any kind on campus. Hand them over now!” Lt. MacDonald ordered. The officer at the door looked in at the sound of the lieutenant’s raised voice.

  “As a citizen of New Sydney, I have the right to carry defensive weapons at all times,” Mystique protested.

  “We’ll see about that, but for now I’m confiscating all of your weapons,” Lt. MacDonald said. He glared at Mystique, challenging her to defy him. Mystique slowly started to remove the knives she had concealed about her body. Lt. MacDonald picked up his radio and gave the officer on the other end instructions to confiscate all of the knives in her dorm room. Mystique wanted to protest, but decided it was best for her to cooperate. She would just have to replace her lost weapons and find somewhere to hide them.

  Mystique set the last of the throwing spikes on the desk in front of her. Lt. MacDonald was impressed; two of the knives he would have found easily, but the third he knew he would have missed, along with all four of the throwing spikes. He wondered what else Mystique was hiding.

  “These are all of my personal defensive weapons. If you intend on questioning me further, I demand a lawyer as is my right,” Mystique stated. She hoped her fake ID was good because she was about to put it to the test.

  “You get to talk to a lawyer when I say so,” Lt. MacDonald replied angrily. No juvenile delinquent was going to push him around.

  Mystique’s next statement was cut short by Bruce holding up his phone. “Lieutenant, my mother would like to speak to you.”

  Mystique gave Bruce a questioning look as the lieutenant stepped away to talk. Bruce motioned for her to wait. Lt. MacDonald became even more upset as the conversation progressed. A few minutes later, he returned and handed the phone back to Bruce.

  “You’re free to go. I will be watching you two,” Lt. MacDonald told them as he started to pick up Mystique’s knife collection. Lt. MacDonald noticed the dagger pendent on Mystique’s necklace and reached for it. Mystique blocked his hand and moved back, forcing him to step around the desk if he wanted to try again.

  “Give me that knife!” Lt. MacDonald demanded.

  “No, and if you try to take it again, I will kill you,” Mystique stated in a low voice, which reminded Bruce of the growl of a guard dog. Her voice carried the unmistakable sincerity of someone who’d killed before. One look into Mystique’s eyes and the lieutenant decided the necklace wasn’t worth the trouble. He stepped back and motioned for her to leave.

  Mystique picked up her bag and headed out of the classroom with Bruce close on her heels. In the hallway, she turned left and walked toward her next class. Bruce followed her, not sure what he was going to say, but needing to say something. Mystique both intrigued and scared him. He had to apologize for telling on her. Once they’d turned the corner and were no longer in view of any security officers, Mystique stopped and turned around to look at Bruce.

  Bruce could tell she wanted an explanation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have a choice. He was going to keep me from getting into the Naval Academy.”

  “I didn’t expect you to keep it a secret. It would have been nice, but you don’t owe me anything. I am not concerned about that. What I would like to know is how your mother convinced him to let us go,” Mystique explained as she started walking again.

  “Mom’s a VP at Argotech. It’s a large farming company. They grow food and s
hip it to planets that can’t grow their own. She has a bunch of lawyers working for her. I was texting her about what was going on and had the mic turned on. When she heard him refuse to allow you a lawyer, she instructed me to give him the phone.”

  “Tell her thank you for me,” Mystique requested. She stopped again, this time outside the men’s bathroom.

  “You should go clean up before anyone sees you. I’ll talk to you later,” Mystique instructed him then she turned and walked away. Bruce watched her leave, wondering if she was mad at him, before heading into the restroom.

  ***

  Mystique was tired when she got to her first class the next morning. She had been up most of the night. Once she’d cleaned up the mess left by the security officers when they searched her dorm room, she had to figure out where to hide the replacements she was planning to acquire. She’d been annoyed about having to clean up after the officers, until she realized that they’d shown her where they would look for her new knives. She’d decided to only pick up a couple for now and get the rest once security had some time to forget about her.

  Thanks to yesterday’s excitement, she’d missed her sociology class and wasn’t sure what the teacher was going to expect her to have ready for today’s class. Fortunately, Professor Yang was very patient, and Mystique didn’t expect him to abuse her too much for her lack of preparedness. To her surprise, she found a warm cup of tea from the café sitting on her desk. A couple of the girls giggled when she picked it up and looked around. It was still warm, but she had no intention of drinking it; there was no telling what someone had put in it.

  Before Mystique could set the cup down and take her seat, a short, slightly overweight man in an expensive-looking suit walked in and asked for her. Everyone looked at her except Professor Yang, who asked who the gentleman was and what he wanted from Mystique. The gentleman informed him that he was her lawyer and that he needed to speak with her. Mystique assumed the man’s presence had to do with yesterday, and she collected the few items she’d brought to class. She apologized to Professor Yang as she headed out into the hall.