A Planet with No Name

by Alan Black

  Veronica thought it best to ignore the byplay. She looked at Mr. Halberd. “I suggest that I sign a prenuptial agreement stating that Maine’s land is his land and he gets to keep it all if I ever run off and leave him, my property included, all in one big pile.”

  Maine nodded. “That sounds good, Pa.”

  Veronica said, “I have one other suggestion. I wouldn’t want Maine to be all alone if something were to happen to me. This is a new planet and there’s no telling what might happen. Manning Tatum sells a line of insurance. Maine could buy an insurance policy on me so he would be taken care of if I died or something.”

  Mr. Halberd looked thoughtful. “Tatum does that, huh? I didn’t know that. Well, I’m sure we can set something up, maybe a few thousand credits to help the boy when, I mean, if the time comes.”

  Veronica said, “I don’t want Maine to just get by. I want to take care of my man. If you think it’s alright, why don’t we go for one million credits?”

  The Halberds looked startled. Veronica let the one million credit insurance policy idea sink in. She sipped her water and rubbed up against Maine.

  Dillon spoke first. “Yeah, I can see one million credits.”

  Mr. Halberd nodded. “Nice round figure. I say we call up Tatum now about this insurance and get this marriage recorded at city hall.”

  Veronica imagined seeing the gears grinding in the man’s brain. I bet he’s trying to calculate what to do with my land and a million credits if an accident happens to me like it did to Missy.

  Veronica said, “I have a couple of small things first. I think we should go ahead and sign the prenuptial agreement giving Maine the rights to my title and deeds in the event I die or leave him. We should go ahead and get the insurance, but a woman wants a little more romance in her marriage. Isn’t that right, Dee? Maybe we can have the marriage ceremony at a party real soon.”

  Mrs. Halberd did not respond. Veronica imagined the woman had succumbed to her drinks or was lost in thought, trying to spend a million credits.

  Veronica looked at Mr. Halberd, “I’m not on good terms with Mr. Tatum. Can you call him and ask him to meet us at city hall? We’ll need to record the prenuptial agreement and the one million credit insurance policy. I’m embarrassed to say this, but I’m cash poor right now. Can you pay Mr. Tatum for the first month’s insurance premium? I’m sure he can set up a payment plan. Maine and I can take over the payments as soon as my next crop comes in. We’re starting the onion harvest tomorrow.”

  Mr. Halberd nodded. “Of course we can cover the first payment or two.”

  Veronica said, “Thank you, that’s a big relief. Please go ahead and call Mr. Tatum. The rest of us will walk on down to city hall and meet him there.”

  She stood, helped Maine to his feet, and hooked an arm through his. She steered him around the table and waited for Dee Halberd. It was a short walk, but the night air seemed to clear the old woman’s head. Veronica noticed Eve Halberd sitting in the flitter with the doors closed and the windows shut.

  Veronica slid her hand into Maine’s hand and grabbed Mrs. Halberd’s hand.

  She leaned in close to the woman. “I know this is silly, but I’d like to get married next Saturday out by that pond where the two streams come together to form the Cold Water River. I know it’s just a civil recording of the marriage, but it’d be nice to be out under the trees for something this important. Maybe your daughter could be my maid of honor. Do you think that would be all right?”

  Dee Halberd seemed to come to herself. “Yes. I know the spot. It’s a couple miles outside of town. There’s that spring fed pond. It’s actually on the Wiggins place, right?”

  Veronica smiled. “That’s exactly the spot. It’s near the road and I don’t think the Wiggins will care. Maybe Manning Tatum can ask them for us. I believe it’s a lovely place and we can have a picnic afterward. If we do a potluck picnic, then we won’t have to fix meals for any guests; they can bring their own dish to share and we’ll blend it all together on one long table.”

  Dillon said, “I like that idea, Ma. Then I don’t have to eat your cooking.” He laughed and ducked away from his mother’s backhand.

  Dee said, “You should get whatever you want. It’ll be your wedding day.”

  Veronica stopped outside the door to city hall. “I’m embarrassed to ask one more thing. Can we get Maine is a new set of clothes, all his own, that he picks out? I think he should have something not worn out by Dillon first.”

  Dillon said, “Hey! I resent that.”

  “I want that too, Ma,” Maine said. “I’d like me a bright red shirt. Dillon don’t wear no red shirts.”

  Dee said, “Maine, I’m not sure that red is a good color for a wedding.”

  Veronica looked at Maine, “I think you’d be handsome in red. I think you would look exceptionally elegant if you had a nice pair of black pants and shiny black boots.”

  “He’d be attractive, wouldn’t he, Mrs. Halberd?”

  Dee nodded. “I think he would at that.”

  Veronica pointed at the Halberds flitter. “Maybe we could get Eve something nice, just this once. There may be a single man or two there, and she might be able to catch their eye.”

  Dillon said, “There’s a thought, Ma. Dress up old mush-face and get her married off and out of the house.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chuckling to himself Buckner Halberd punched the numbers for Manning Tatum’s private data-patch. We worked that out right. We talked Smith into that prenup thing and an insurance policy to boot. He stifled dancing a little jig while watching his family escort Smith to city hall. Hot diggity—a cool million! Don’t that beat all? I can get me a bigger vid system and an electric Barcolounger all my own. Oh, and I’m gonna get me a beer tap put right—

  “Hello?” Tatum said. He wiped his mouth on a napkin and pushed back from the table.

  Buckner nodded his greeting. “We got it set up. Maine’s gonna get hitched to the Smith woman.”

  Tatum looked startled. “You what?”

  Buckner said, “Yep, Dee and I brokered the marriage between the two. Smith is all set to go.”

  Tatum said, “Good God, man! How did you work that?”

  Buckner laughed. “Never underestimate the charm of a Halberd man. We’re going over to the city hall now to set up some prenuptial thing.”

  “What kind of—”

  “Relax Tatum. We just need something saying if something happens to her, like she dies or leaves, then everything goes to Maine. Clear and simple, no tricky clauses or get out free jail card.”

  “That is great—”

  Buckner interrupted him again. “One more thing, we want to get an insurance policy on her. You can handle that?”

  Tatum nodded, “Easy as apple pie. How much do you figure to put on her?”

  Buckner grinned as if his face would split, “We all agreed that one million credits would be okay. I figure if something happens to her, then you, as the agent should get a percentage. What do you say to ten percent as a bonus?”

  Tatum shook his head. “Ten percent isn’t much, especially if I have to make sure the policy is enforced due to suicide…if you get my drift.”

  Buckner laughed. “Fifteen percent and not a penny more. That makes me the senior partner here, so shag your fanny over to city hall and let’s get this show on the road.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Manning Tatum managed to rush up to them at the same time Buckner Halberd rejoined Veronica and the rest of his family. The lights in city hall turned on automatically as they opened the door and entered. The public data terminals hummed to life.

  Instead of pushing Tatum out of the way so she could call up the documents she needed, Veronica stood back. She allowed the man to look through screen after screen searching for what he wanted. He failed to use the search feature to help isolate his needs. She waited patiently as he called up a blank prenuptial agreement form. Once found, it was a simple matter of fil
ling in the blanks. After the wedding, everything of hers went to Maine if she left him or died.

  Veronica signed the agreement with her thumbprint and signature. She sighed, “There, that’s done. Just to be safe, as Mr. Tatum knows, our Pioneer Compact states every valid contract must be equally enforced. Isn’t that right, Tatum?”

  Tatum nodded and filled in a second prenuptial agreement giving everything over to Veronica if Maine left her or died. The agreement was a long way from equal as his one section of land had more rock and canyons than arable soil with no improvements or equipment. She had four adjacent sections with five houses and more equipment than she could keep track of in her head. She signed the form readily. She did not care, as it was a moot point. The prenuptial agreement was only a ploy to make the Halberds think of forms going both ways.

  Tatum could not hide his grin at a one million credit insurance policy on Veronica. He was undoubtedly calculating his sales commission. She wondered if the man had already negotiated for a share of the million, should something happen to her like Missy. There was no doubt in her mind that Tatum was funding the Halberds actions against her. Tatum loaned the first month’s insurance premium to Buckner, who gave it to Maine, who then gave it back to Tatum.

  Tatum, without prompting, generated a second one million credit insurance policy covering Maine with Veronica as the sole beneficiary. Buckner and Dee hardly noticed the second insurance policy. Dillon’s ears perked up when both policies listed him as the secondary beneficiary if something untoward were to happen to Buckner and Dee before she died.

  Tatum asked, “When is the happy day?”

  Maine replied, “Saturday at the pond just outside of town.”

  Dillon said, “Saturday night is a happy time if you ask me.” This time he did not move fast enough to duck from his mother’s backhand. He rubbed his ear, grinned, and slapped his brother’s head before running out the front door. Maine followed Dillon, bellowing that he was going to thump him good. By the time Veronica exited the building, Dillon and Maine were rolling in the dirt laughing. She stepped into the dark alley between the buildings, hidden from view where she heard Dillon say, “You got it now, Maine. You’re getting married again and gonna be rich.”

  Maine said, “She ain’t like Missy.”

  Dillon grabbed his brother in a headlock. “Of course she ain’t like Missy. Look, you don’t want to be married now, do you? Having someone tell you what to do and where to go? You and me won’t be able to hang around like we always do.”

  Maine pushed away from his brother and sat up. “Course I don’t want to get married. I thought we was just leading up to a little bit of naked exercise.”

  “This’ll be just like Missy. We can both get a little rump romp on your wedding night. I am oldest, so I get her first. Then you get her. After a little bit, Pa and I can make her disappear like Missy. Then you and me can live like kings.”

  Maine said, “I don’t know. Can’t I go first this time?”

  A voice whispered in Veronica’s ear. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Mrs. Smith.”

  She spun around to see Sheriff Eustace standing behind her. “You move pretty quiet for a fat man.”

  “When I have to, but only when I have to. I don’t much care what you’re up to; you just keep it out of my town.” He raised his voice to a shout. “Hey Maine, when’s the wedding?”

  Veronica walked into the light and up to Maine. “Walk me to my truck, please?”

  Maine got up and dusted himself off. Then he grabbed her hand with a possessive grip.

  They were about halfway to her truck before she spoke. “Maine, you know that I’m not a child anymore. I don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want to do. You just say so if you don’t want me.”

  Maine did not say anything, but she could tell he was thinking.

  “I’m not like your first wife Missy. I’ll treat you right. I won’t try to run out on you. Look, I’m leaving my hair long so if you want to take me from behind, you can grab on and ride me hard. Most of all, I want to give you children, but, I want to know, truly know, that the first one is yours. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “You don’t want Dillon doing you.”

  She said, “Not right away. This is for you too, Maine. Dillon uses everything you have first. He didn’t even want you to have a new red shirt. I want you to have what you want, for you and only for you. Would you like to have a son that you knew was yours? Do you want a boy you can teach to ride horses and to shoot a gun?”

  Maine nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that, Maine Junior. Or could we name him after Pa?”

  “We can name him whatever you want. He’d be your son, nobody but yours.”

  Maine said, “Mine and only mine.”

  Chapter Forty

  Veronica did not sleep well. She had not slept well the night before her first wedding either. Tonight her thoughts kept her awake for different reasons. She was not sure how deep a wedge she had driven between Maine and Dillon, not that it mattered to her plan. It was an added bonus.

  She had not been worried about her wedding night when she married Elias. She was not a virgin and it was not the first time they had slept together. Maine was repulsive. She did not intend to go to bed with him, tonight or any other night. She intended for him to die before she ever had to let him slip between her sheets. Even if she discovered she could not kill him, she could keep him so drunk he would never make it to her bed.

  She wondered at her coldness. Had this world driven her crazy? Had she slipped into the delusion that killing her groom was a good thing? She sighed. Maybe the answer was yes to both of those questions, or maybe the answer was no.

  She came to this unnamed planet to start a new life. She wanted to leave strife and warfare behind her on Earth. The petty bickering at the university had become intolerable. Even tenured professors fought over scraps of status and power, often ignoring their students for a chance at personal glory and prestige.

  She could play the game better than most and she proved it repeatedly, but in the end, there was little evidence she made any lasting changes. She wanted to make an impact on her new world and the people around her. The Halberds stood in her way; therefore, they had to go.

  She cataloged her issues with the Halberds. They killed Cal. It was true, Cal was not a living creature, but his destruction was an act whose sole purpose was to force her off her rightful land. They shot out the windows of her truck. It was pure vandalism, but a five-year-old boy was hurt as a result. They killed her herd of cattle. There was no doubt in her mind that someone, probably old man Halberd, was abusing his daughter. They murdered and conspired to murder Missy, Maine’s first wife. That alone called for retribution and justice.

  Her southwestern heritage demanded she not let such events pass. On Earth, Phoenix filled with flower children leaving the devastation of California for an inland safe haven, but she was a child of the True West. She studied the men and women who founded Arizona, she read of their lives and their ambitions. They fought hard and stood upright against evil men of all kinds. How could she do less?

  Murder was murder, but not all killing was murder. There was justice, and there was self-defense. She stopped her thoughts.

  “No,” she said aloud. “I’ve only heard them plan to kill me and make it look like a suicide. I can’t claim self-defense unless they start carrying out their plan.” She smiled. It was simply a legal technicality. Her plan was already in place.

  She did not share her plan with anyone. Steve and Pushta were her closest friends on the planet, but she did not think even they would understand. They certainly did not understand why she was going through with a marriage to a man she apparently disliked. She would never share her plans with Chuck and Sherry Reynolds or Tucker and Karen Guilford of Twisted City. Both couples were more than business acquaintances, but she doubted any of them had ever added murderer to their resume and she felt certain they would not want to start now.
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br />   Word of her upcoming wedding spread fast, like juicy gossip in any small town. With only a 100,000 people on the planet, its population was a little larger than a small town. She invited everyone to come and join the potluck. A small band from Naples heard the word and decided to drive up. The Wiggins, owners of the property, marked off a quarter mile stretch and challenged all comers to a horse race. The Twisted City saloon owner was setting up a tent to serve refreshments, for a price, of course. Best of all, a Landing City casino had already set up a tent with gaming tables and slot machines.

  She did not care that her wedding day was going to be a circus. It was as easy to pretend to be happy for a small crowd as it was for a large group. As a university professor, she always got the same thrill teaching small classes as she did lecturing in large halls. Her performance mattered, not the size of the audience.

  She kicked her feet out from under the sheet and slid out of bed.

  She wanted to look as presentable as possible—after all—it was her wedding, even if the marriage would not survive much beyond today. She could not help picking up the bottle of brown liquid under the sink, labeled stain remover. She smiled. The only stain it would ever remove was an unwanted husband. She put it back under the sink, making sure the cabinet door was latched and childproof.

  “Wow!” she said. “I am getting into this killing thing. I wonder how well the job pays. No. This is one killing that needs to be done, like shooting a rabid wolf. Murder is murder, and this isn’t murder.”

  She had given a great deal of thought to her choice of wedding dress. She settled on a green, strapless, full-length gown. It was the only formal wear she brought with her to her this new planet without a name. She had not expected it put it to such good use when she packed it. She was amazed at how good she looked in it. Farm work agreed with her. She wore a healthy tan and the muscles across her shoulders were pleasingly well defined.