Jump Gate Omega

by Tom Shepherd

“She’s only a kid. We’ll meet your demands. Did you hear me say my father has money?”

  The Segerian commander snorted at the viewscreen. “Young Matthews males. They told me one of you was a fool. Let me talk to the other one.”

  “Right here, sir.” J.B. took over the arbitration. “Jeremiah Berechiah Matthews.”

  “This is Capitão Flávio Tavares of the Segerian Privateer Henrique, sailing with an all-human crew.”

  Rosalie broke in. “J.B., they’re cool—they speak European Portuguese!”

  “What can I do for you, Capitão?” J.B. sounded business-like.

  “Will you accept transfer of two passengers?”

  “Certainly, Capitão,” J.B. said. “Who is your other… guest?”

  “A young male of the Solorio family.”

  “Papá sent Cousin Esteban with me,” Rosalie said. “Don’t be scared of Flávio—he’s an old friend of Papá’s. And so funny! We’ve had fun chasing you. He goes, ‘Can you find them?’ And I go, ‘Maybe can do.’ And here we are.” She switched to Portuguese, and the Segerian Capitão laughed hard, replying in his native tongue.

  Tyler couldn’t keep still. “Look, Tavares, however much my father’s enemies are paying you—”

  “Tyler, shut up.” J.B. closed his brother’s communications link and shook a finger at him. The elder Matthews returned to negotiations. “We are ready to receive them. Thank you, Capitão Tavares. Your kindness will not be forgotten.”

  “To set matters aright for Tyler Matthews—I received from my old friend, Noah Matthews, full amnesty for all my business enterprises to date.” He smiled. “And a few months advanced amnesty, just in case.”

  J.B. responded. “Wise precaution, Capitão.”

  “My personal launch will bring them aboard. Good trip. Death to the enemies of the mighty Matthews-Solorio Enterprises!”

  J.B. shut down the communications link. “Well, he seemed pleasant enough.”

  Tyler grunted. “A pirate on your payroll is a pirate nonetheless.” He raised an eyebrow. “Thanks, Bro. I get crazy protective when Rosalie’s concerned.”

  “Don’t we all? Let’s get them aboard.”

  J.B. re-plotted the FTL course to Emily’s Gate while the Henrique’s shuttle brought Rosalie and Esteban to Suzie’s recently repaired starboard airlock. Within twenty minutes, the Sioux City was back in the Cumberland Tunnel with all three Matthews siblings and Cousin Esteban aboard. Tyler watched the tumbling star-smears in his viewscreens and said a silent prayer of thanks.

  Rosalie was safe. They were all safe. For now.

  But the clock was ticking toward Jump Gate Omega’s 2.5 million light year connection shot, and he could hear his father’s voice. “The Family. needs you, Son.” If he failed this time, any hope of getting The Old Man off his back was lost forever.

  Six

  After some confusion, Rosalie and Esteban settled into the passenger quarters. She dragged so much baggage aboard that Tyler had to give her two of the four cabins, which meant he and J.B. had to share a cabin so that Cousin Esteban could have his own digs. Esteban needed personal space.

  Like J.B., Esteban studied for the priesthood a decade ago. Unlike dropout J.B., Esteban actually completed the five-year seminary program but refused ordination. The Family rumor mill always held the pious Esteban felt unworthy of a priestly vocation. Tyler believed he wanted to get laid without issuing himself a guilt waiver. Even though Catholic clergy, male and female, had the option to marry since early in the twenty-second century, Tyler suspected many prospective candidates for the priestly orders still awaited official permission to screw around a little.

  Esteban chose a work station in the cramped commons. Tyler tried to engage his cousin in conversation, but it was clear Esteban wanted to spend the time before the evening meal studying historical and cultural data about their destination, the Suryadivan Sacred Protectorate.

  After the Sioux City safely passed through Emily’s Gate and returned to FTL for the third leg of the journey, they met in the tiny galley adjacent the commons for dinner. When Rosalie bounced into the galley, Tyler had to reminded himself, again, that his kid sister was a fully deployed woman of twenty-one. Tyler’s protective imagination kept her a virgin schoolgirl whose biological clock had frozen at sweet sixteen.

  Rosalie was slightly taller than most women and usually presented red-brown hair to compliment a dazzling smile. Her eye color changed like a chameleon in a flower market. She looked like a beautiful Irish nun. He seriously doubted she’d ever kissed a boy, let alone slept with a man. The thought of Baby Sister having sex terrified him so much he found himself hoping she was secretly a lesbian although, since the Church no longer condemned people based on sexual orientation, there was no logical reason for her to keep that from the Family.

  Esteban wandered into the galley and sat beside Cousin J.B. “Buenas tardes, Primo.”

  J.B. slid down the bench to make room. “What were you doing on a pirate ship?”

  “Flying with the Segerian was not my idea,” Esteban said. “But he is not technically a pirate.”

  “Papá sent Flávio to pick up Esteban at Riley’s World, then me at Sagan-2.” Rosalie went to the food dispenser. “I’ll take orders! Who wants prime rib?”

  Every hand went up.

  She checked the menu display. “Sorry. All we have is chicken.”

  “Damned thing hasn’t synthesized beef for a year,” Tyler said.

  Rosalie nodded. “Humans can fly across the galaxy, but we can’t get the food dispensers to work.”

  Tyler smiled at his sister. “What were you doing in the Sagan system, kiddo?”

  “Orbital commerce hub. Good place to meet new clients for M-double-I. Business reps from all parts of the Orion.” She punched up the dinners. “Let’s see…oven-roasted, lemon pepper, I think.”

  J.B. opened his flatware packet and pulled out a knife and fork. “Hear anything about the crime syndicate murders on Sagan-2?”

  “Not really, Bear. Mostly hung out at the space station. The government wasn’t releasing any details. Oh! I did have a fun afternoon salt-sailing the Great Desert.”

  “I’ve always wanted to do that,” Tyler said.

  She finished cooking, and then took drink orders. “White wine or H.T. longnecks?”

  Her brothers chose the beer. Esteban gloomily declined anything alcoholic and said he wasn’t hungry. As Rosalie served dinner, J.B. tried to make conversation with him.

  “Any leads on Julieta?”

  “Nothing helpful,” Esteban said. “My sister spent a week on Riley’s World before proceeding to Suryadivan space.”

  “Odd sales route for a medical procurement specialist,” Tyler said. “Did you witness any of the excitement on Riley’s last week?”

  “No, it was very quiet. And not very productive,” Esteban said.

  Tyler took a swig of H.T. “What were you doing so far from home?” He had never visited the remote Terran colony, but he always smiled at the story of its baptism.

  Riley’s World was located along Brightstar Curve, an arc of habitable worlds first discovered by John Brightstar and explored by his son, Brian. The planet got its name when Brian Brightstar went ashore accompanied by his pit bull, Riley. Legend held that the scrappy fellow languished aboard Brightstar’s ship for so long, urinating in animal enclosures, that he raced to the first available treelike vegetation, raised a leg, and relieved himself the old-fashioned way. Brightstar reportedly said, “I guess Riley has marked his territory.” Ever after, humans called the planet Riley’s World.

  “My father sent me to negotiate a deal with the Chairman of Tsuchiya Galactic,” Esteban said. “But the local executives refused to let me see him. Tsuchiya’s security whisked him off planet the next morning before we could meet.”

  “Ooooh!” Rosalie said. “I saw that on Orion Network News. Somebody strangled the outgoing commerce manager of the whole planet. Made the government a little nutty about off-worlde
rs.”

  “Very quiet, Esteban?” Tyler said.

  Esteban accepted a plate of food. “Well, sí. Some violence was reported. But I saw nothing about the murder.”

  “Not just one murder,” Rosalie said. “Whoever did it also killed the whole executive leadership team of Sakura House on Riley’s World.”

  “There were rumors about a black-haired, female dispatcher,” Esteban said.

  Rosalie said, “No surveillance video—all wiped.”

  “They were tight about details,” Esteban said. “You say she strangled her victims?”

  Rosalie nodded vigorously, mimicking a choke hold on her own throat, with bug eyes and dangling tongue. J.B. laughed.

  “No wonder they yanked old man Tsuchiya out of the kill zone,” Tyler said. “I wonder what the cops found when they ran DNA on the crime scene.”

  “No can do,” Rosalie said.

  “Why?”

  “Too much DNA,” she said.

  “How is that possible?” Tyler said.

  “Must have been a popular hotel.” She smiled, slyly. “Oh! Your friend, Kichirou, was appointed the new commerce manager and head of Sakura House on RW.”

  “Kichi-san never said he was leaving Terra, but we seldom talk these days. Glad he wasn’t there when the dispatcher struck.” Tyler picked at his lemon pepper chicken.

  “Sakura House heavily funds some of Uncle Xavier’s political opponents,” J.B. said. “I mean Senator Uncle Xavier.”

  Tyler smiled wryly. “Are you involved in this intrigue, Esteban?”

  Esteban sat back. “What are you implying?”

  “Hey, you’re the one who lied about how quiet it was.” Tyler sipped his beer thoughtfully. “As your attorney, I’m considering defense strategies when they arrest your dumb ass for capital murder.”

  “I-I was at the hotel, but not at the party. Tsuchiya Galactic put me up in a suite, many floors above. I never left my room.”

  “Do you have anyone to support your alibi?” Tyler said.

  “I need no alibi!”

  Tyler folded his hands behind his head and leaned back. “Maybe you were the dispatcher’s technical backup. You have the skills to scrub the security system.”

  “Why would I do that? My father stood to lose billions if I didn’t get the contract.”

  “Did you get the contract?”

  Esteban cast his eyes at the deck, avoiding Tyler’s gaze. “No.”

  Tyler pressed him. “So, Julieta leaves Riley’s World—which is controlled by Tsuchiya Galactic—and promptly disappears.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “You must have been angry.”

  “I….I had no reason to be angry.”

  “Really?”

  J.B. sat back and smiled. Tyler arose and paced behind Esteban, gesturing with the longneck bottle of H.T.

  “After failing in your mission,” Tyler continued, “and with full knowledge your beloved sister was last seen alive on this planet—a world controlled by Tsuchiya Galactic—multiple murders occur under the very roof where you slept…alone. Is that your testimony?”

  “Testimony?” Red-faced, Esteban turned to face Tyler. “Am I on trial?”

  “Answer the question, Mr. Solorio.”

  “I told you the truth.”

  Tyler snorted. “You claim to have slept alone that night,” Tyler said. “Staying in a hotel in the amusement capital of the Perseus. Unfortified pleasure palace, with men and women you had reason to hate partying a few floors below.”

  “It was a business trip!” he sputtered. “And I was not alone.”

  Rosalie snickered. “Estey, you naughty boy.”

  “That’s your excuse?” Tyler demanded. “You had no idea a dispatcher was rampaging through the building, killing your enemies, because you were—shall we say—exploiting a diplomatic contact?” Tyler snickered. “Did you pay, or was she a corporate perk?”

  Esteban leaped up. “If you weren’t my cousin—damn you, Tyler!”

  “Sit down, ‘Cuz.” Tyler chuckled. “Homicidal rage doesn’t play well with a jury.”

  “To make matters worse, you don’t get a jury on Riley’s World,” Rosalie said. “They hold capital trials on public access video, and the population votes. Borrowed the idea from the Quirt-Thyme Empire.”

  “Either way,” Tyler said, “blow up like that during a trial, and you’re a dead Mexican.”

  Esteban took a deep breath and sat quietly. “My family is from Madrid. But you know that. You are baiting me again.”

  J.B. smiled. “Ty can be a total asshole, but he’s a gunslinger in court.”

  “I do not understand. Why would anyone want to implicate me?”

  Tyler patted his shoulder. “Uh-huh. And how much money does our collective Matthews-Solorio heritage have at its disposal?”

  “Oh, sí.” Esteban cursed softly in Español Nuevo.

  Tyler glanced at J.B. “He can be taught.”

  J.B. raised a hand. “Take it easy, Ty. If they charge him with six murders, one more won’t matter.”

  Rosalie hopped up and went to the food dispenser. “You need a drink, Primo.”

  Esteban accepted a glass of white wine and took a huge gulp. “Am I truly in jeopardy?”

  “Well, absent any DNA confirmation or physical evidence of direct involvement,” Tyler said, “and considering the number of guests at a place like that, I think you’re okay.”

  “Thank you.” He sipped slowly.

  “Now, c’mon Esteban. Give us the juicy details.” Tyler grinned. “Did you pay, or was she a perk?”

  “A gentleman would not answer such a question.” He smiled mischievously. “A perk.”

  “Ha!” Tyler slapped the table.

  “I am sorry your questions disturbed me,” Esteban said. “My mind has been occupied by other worries.”

  “Look, we all love Julieta,” Tyler said. “We’re going to find her. But from now forward, keep no secrets from the home team, okay?”

  Esteban sighed. “Thank you.” He finished the wine, and Rosalie refilled his glass. He accepted without protest.

  They finished their meal and retreated to personal quarters until Suzie alerted them for the next Jump Gate. Tyler and J.B. took turns piloting the Sioux City through the keyhole and reestablishing FTL to the ensuing Gate. Ordinarily on a long trip, the brothers would alternate napping between legs, but Tyler found himself unable to sleep. Julieta was out there somewhere among the vast, spiral rings of the Milky Way, and their hopes of finding her and opening the Alpha Gate on time depended on whether Matthews Shipyards on Sedalia had a fast FTL starcraft available.

  The Sioux City was a good little ship for medium-range starflight, but they were headed to the Rim of the galaxy. He wanted to get out and push.

  * * * *

  Sometime before six A.M., Kansas City time, Rosalie joined Tyler at the command console. She slid into the co-pilot seat and handed him a mug of hot green tea. “Need me to take over awhile?”

  “You’ve had your license, what, four months?” Tyler yawned and sniffed the honeyed wake-up nectar.

  Rosalie brushed the helm controls like caressing a boyfriend. “I can fly this little boat.”

  “Maybe later.”

  She sighed and sipped. “How far to go?”

  “Exited the last Gate, resumed FTL. Ninety minutes to S-3.”

  “So, the jump points end at Sedalia?” She punched up the flight plan on her screen.

  Tyler nodded. “Unless we encounter undiscovered Gates beyond Perseus, which is theoretically possible. Great-Grand-Papá scattered his flock of new Matthews Gates along the Orion, except for a few dozen they hauled out to Perseus Arm. But God knows how many the ancients built. No human explorers have found one rimward from S-3.”

  They talked and sipped tea with the whirling rainbow of the Cumberland Hyperspace Tunnel filling the Sioux City’s viewports. Rosalie opened her mouth to say something else, but screamed and pulled her feet onto the cush
ion of the co-pilot’s station. She pointed an accusing finger at a green-and-blue creature coiled on the jump seat behind her.

  “Snake!”

  “Relax. It’s Lulu.”

  “Get that python out of here!”

  Tyler laughed. “Afraid of snakes?”

  “Everybody’s afraid of snakes!”

  Lulu skulked away and disappeared under the bottom panel of the engineering station.

  “Awww—you hurt her feelings.”

  “If you want a pet, get a kitten,” Rosalie said hotly.

  “You’re allergic to cats.” He got up and stretched. “Watch the helm for me.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “You wanted the conn. I’m giving you the conn.”

  “Don’t leave me here with that cobra lurking about!”

  “She’s harmless.”

  Rosalie’s lips sagged into a pout. “Don’t go. I brought you tea.”

  “And now I have to pee like a tea-drinking camel. Lulu won’t bother you. I promise.”

  Tyler wandered to the toilet facilities but lingered awhile in the galley—partly to take a break, partly to annoy his pathologically cheerful sister. Eventually, he returned to the flight deck with half a box of donuts and freshly brewed coffee. To his astonishment, Rosalie was petting a purring, long-haired tiger-cat with blue and green stripes. And Little Sister wasn’t sneezing.

  “Where did you get her?” Rosalie cooed.

  “I was about to ask you the same question. I’ve never seen that cat before.”

  “She’s beautiful. And look—I can pet her without an asthma attack!”

  “Must have been hiding aboard. Maybe she snuck up the ramp back on my new planet.” Tyler scratched her chin, and she purred softly. “Were you chasing Lulu?”

  “I don’t care where you got her, she’s mine now.”

  “My gift to you. Mom didn’t want the snake.” He sniffed and recognized a pleasantly familiar odor. “Do you smell that? If I hadn’t almost kissed a giant crab, I’d swear the whole damned ecosystem of that planet smells like coconuts.”

  Rosalie giggled. “Apparently, she knows you love a sweet-smelling kitty.”

  Tyler shook his head. “Okay, now we’re in a parallel reality.”