A Planet with No Name

by Alan Black

  Veronica pushed away from Dillon. “Let me go, you animal. I did not marry you.” Though Dillon’s hands were wrapped around her shoulders, she said, “Don’t touch me there.”

  Maine heard Veronica yell. He let go of his mother, raced up to Dillon, and spun him around by the shoulder. “You keep your paws off my wife.”

  Dillon laughed. “I never objected when you went down to Tiffany’s to diddle my wife. Why should you care about where I touch your wife?”

  Maine said, “That used to be. This is now. I said no and I mean no.” He punched Dillon in the face.

  Dillon staggered back but kept his feet. He pulled a knife from his pocket and rushed at Maine, yelling at the top of his lungs.

  Maine knocked his hand away and grabbed Dillon in a headlock. Maine twisted and dropped to his knees. Dillon swung his knife at Maine, but Maine let him go and rolled away. Before anyone could respond, the two men were on their feet charging each other like two rams with their heads down and arms wind-milling around them.

  They clashed and locked in an embrace. Rolling toward the pond, they would have hit the water, but Mr. Halberd, Sheriff Eustace, and Manning Tatum jumped in to stop them, pulling Dillon off Maine.

  It took all three men to hold Maine back from continuing to attack his older brother. Maine’s eyes bulged in anger, his face turned red from flushed blood and the rush of alcohol, and his arms flailed with clenched fists toward his brother.

  Dillon levered himself slowly to his knees, then slumped back to the ground. Buried hilt-deep into his chest was his own knife. The crowd saw a few tiny drops of blood as the man’s unseeing eyes stared up into the sun.

  Veronica covered Eve Halberd’s eyes and turned her around so that she would not see her brother. She walked the girl back to Malina at a calm, sedate pace. All around the glade, she saw other women pulling children away.

  Veronica felt electrified. She wanted to dance. This was working out better than she ever dreamed. Her only plan was to force a wedge between the two brothers, a simple divide and conquer strategy. She never imagined the depth of Maine’s hostility for Dillon. She certainly underestimated how hard Dillon would fight to maintain his domination over his younger brother.

  She heard Mrs. Halberd wailing over Dillon’s body. Maine stood next to his brother, crying. There was no emotion on Eve Halberd’s blank, empty face. Veronica glanced at Dillon’s wife sitting with the other prostitutes from Tiffany’s Brothel. Though the woman had a clear view of Dillon, she did not move. When she noticed Veronica looking at her, she shrugged, smiled slightly, and raised her drink in a salute to Veronica.

  A notion struck Veronica. Because a woman went into prostitution it did not mean she was stupid. For thousands of years, women had done what they needed to do, to survive.

  Veronica noticed she was surrounded by her friends.

  She said, “Well, that went well, don’t you think? It certainly wasn’t your typical marriage ceremony. Maslow, will you and Malina keep an eye on Miss Halberd for a while? No need for her to rush back to her parents.”

  Eve shrugged. “They let me see Missy’s dead body. That wasn’t a big deal and I liked her. So, Dillon’s gone. It looks to me like he did it to himself.”

  Every adult close by that heard her speaking prudently decided to ignore the girl’s comment.

  Maslow nodded to Veronica. “You don’t worry about Miss Eve. Arianna and I are going to take the girls and the other young ones down for a ride on the merry-go-round. We’ll be back after a while, okay?”

  Veronica replied, “I think that’s a good idea. Children do not need to see this. Be careful out there, not everyone in this crowd can be trusted.”

  Maslow nodded. “Not my first wild wedding, boss. Polat and Kat are coming along and bringing their young ones, too.”

  Steve said, “Pushta and I will stay here with you.”

  Veronica looked around. Auggie and Mags were standing partway between the Halberds and her. They looked relaxed, glancing around with curiosity and watching everywhere at once. They reminded Veronica of guard dogs—nice looking, smart guard dogs. She was certain their watchfulness was not necessary, but she was thankful for it nonetheless.

  She patted Steve on the shoulder. “Hold here a sec for me.”

  Veronica took a long breath and steeling her nerves, walked back across to her husband. She slipped an arm around Maine and pulled his head down to her shoulder. She patted him on the back of the head.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” Maine wailed.

  Veronica nodded, “Of course you didn’t. He was your brother and you loved him.”

  Maine said, “Of course I loved him. Who said I didn’t?” His head shot up and he glared at her.

  Sheriff Eustace was running a scan over Dillon’s body with his data-patch.

  “Pa, I didn’t mean it,” Maine said, “He came at me, Pa!”

  Sheriff Eustace nodded. “I have a video of the whole thing.” He gave a little shrug. “I was recording the wedding for the official record and caught the fight.”

  Buckner Halberd spit on the ground and glared at Sheriff Eustace. “Maine started it. He threw the first punch.”

  Sheriff Eustace shrugged. “Maybe so, but hitting your brother ain’t illegal.”

  Buckner Halberd shouted, “Yeah, but killing him is. Maine killed his brother. He killed my oldest son, just like Cain did to Abel.”

  Veronica said, “It’s not the same. Cain killed Abel with a rock. Maine didn’t bring a weapon to the fight, Dillon did.”

  Eustace nodded. “That’s right, folks. My scan shows that the only fingerprints and DNA on the knife belong to Dillon. Maine never touched the knife. Unless someone else can draw a different conclusion, it looks like self-defense to me.”

  Veronica said, “I’d call it more of an accident than self-defense. Maine, did you want to kill your brother?”

  Maine wailed. “I loved Dillon.”

  Mr. Halberd shouted over his wife’s wailing, “I loved Dillon, too. He was my son and you killed him.”

  Maine crumpled to the ground, crying.

  Mr. Halberd said, “I got enough work keeping my own section of land in shape. Who’s going to help me work Dillon’s section?”

  Tania, Dillon’s widow, spoke up. “Excuse me, Sheriff Eustace. Can you please check the records on the joint survivorship of Dillon’s section?”

  Mrs. Halberd cried. “Shut up, whore.”

  Tania smiled. “No, I don’t think so. That land was filed under both of our names with the right of joint survivorship. It’s not your land to work, Buckner Halberd, it’s mine. So, if you’re looking for a place to bury that worthless waste of a meat sack you called a son, well, you can toss him in the river for all I care.” She smiled at Veronica and winked as she raised a fresh glass in salute.

  Mr. Halberd shouted. “That ain’t right. That whore has never set foot of Halberd land. She can’t work it any more than this Smith woman can work her land.”

  Eustace shrugged. “Actually, Buckner, it’s all Halberd land right now. It’s just that Dillon’s land is owned by Tania Halberd and Veronica Smith’s property is owned by her and her husband, Maine Halberd.”

  Buckner Halberd stopped in mid-shout. Veronica could almost see the wheels, cogs, and gears grinding behind his eyes. It was evident that some of the gears were rusty from misuse, the cogs were missing teeth, and the wheels had long ago worn flat spots.

  Veronica noticed a change in Halberd. It looked like he was suddenly remembering his plan to get Veronica’s land. He may have lost a son, but he was about to inherit enough land to double his holdings. She saw him glance at Manning Tatum and look away, gritting his teeth. He let the matter drop.

  Maine was inconsolable. He crawled across the grass to lie across his brother’s body. He cried and wailed until Buckner Halberd kicked him away.

  Buckner Halberd said, “You done enough, you idiot. Leave your brother alone.”

  Veronica jumped between
father and son. “Enough.” She looked up at the sheriff. “Eustace, you have enough data for your report? I’m taking my husband home. If you want to talk to him, you can vid us.”

  Eustace waved his hands as if erasing a whiteboard. “Clear cut case. Even if it wasn’t, it isn’t in my jurisdiction anyway. Go home, if you want. Go to the casino, if you want. Go skinny-dipping in the pond, if you want. It isn’t my problem.”

  Veronica looked around. “Steve, can you help me get Maine into the truck? Please drive us home, then you can come back and get everyone else.”

  The Guirards came up and gave her a group hug. Karen said, “Sorry about how your wedding turned out, sweetie.”

  Veronica resisted the urge to laugh. “Well, we planned it as best we could. I wanted everyone to have fun, but we don’t always get what we want. Thank you for coming. Please, stay and have a good time…if you can.”

  She smiled sadly at Chuck and Sherry Reynolds. “Sorry, you all had to come all the way from Twisted City for this. Please, stay as long as you like.”

  She grabbed Maine under one arm and Steve grabbed his other arm. Between the two of them, they wrestled him into the back of the truck.

  Generally, Steve gave adults a hand-held safety switch when they rode in the back of the truck. The shield restraint would protect people riding in the back of an open truck moving over a hundred miles an hour, from wind and accidentally falling over the side. The safety switch allowed passengers to alert the driver if someone in the back felt the need for an emergency stop.

  Steve looked at Maine’s crumpled body lying in the back of the truck and hit the shield restraint switch, locking Maine in place. He looked at Veronica for approval.

  She nodded. “It’s only a ten-minute ride. Maine should be okay without a safety switch.”

  Steve was quiet for a few minutes as he drove. Finally, he said, “Veronica, you know I wasn’t a big supporter of your plan to marry Maine Buckner, but I’m sorry that it turned out this way. The death of a family member at a wedding ceremony is no way to start a marriage.”

  Veronica giggled in spite of herself. “I thought it went perfectly. It couldn’t have gone better if I planned it myself.”

  Steve looked confused, then, did a double take. Taking his eyes off the road, he stared at her. “What…?”

  Veronica pointed two fingers at her eyes and then pointed at the road ahead. “Everybody has the rest of the day off and all day tomorrow, too. We start working hard again on Monday. And, since it is my wedding night, my house is off limits until breakfast on Monday.”

  Steve glared at the road ahead. “What are you doing, boss?”

  Veronica smiled.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Veronica and Steve half-carried half-dragged Maine to the ramada.

  She said, “I don’t want my new husband puking all over my clean house. He can sober up out here for a while.”

  Steve dropped Maine into a chaise lounge, then, he stood and looked to the west. “Say, when did you trim the oleanders? They were just getting tall enough to block the sun.”

  “I cut them back a little yesterday. I want to make sure they grow straight and thick. Cutting them back should cause more shoots to push up from the roots.”

  “It’s still going to be hot out here.” He hit the button to turn on the misters and the ceiling fans.

  Veronica sighed. “You might as well get back to the party. Let everyone enjoy themselves as much as they can in spite of what happened at the ceremony.” She had a sudden thought, “Oh, Maine’s air ski was parked out in front of the saloon. I bet Auggie can ride it back here. I see no reason for letting it stay there and get stolen for parts or something.”

  Steve nodded. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Mags is a better rider than Auggie, but neither one of them will get it here without the keys.

  She said, “I wouldn’t bet on that.” Veronica leaned over Maine. He was awake now, moaning and crying about Dillon. She peeled his data-patch off his wrist and handed it to Steve. “Here, you take his keys.”

  Steve placed the data-patch on his wrist, next to his own patch. “It won’t work without knowing his password.”

  Veronica sighed. “Maine, honey, what’s your password?”

  Maine mumbled, “Password?” He went back to mumbling about Dillon.

  Veronica said to Steve, “Try password.”

  “Nobody uses that. It’s a seriously unsecure and stupid password.” He entered the code and the data-patch opened up giving him full access to everything. “Uggh! He has more pornography stored here than anything else—plus it looks like he has every episode of The Mayor of Moronville. Egad, what a stupid vid-show!”

  Veronica watched Steve shake his head all the way back to the truck, then she looked down at her drunken husband, shrugged, and walked into the house. It only took a few steps for her to reach the kitchen. She grabbed the second bottle of whiskey she bought. She filled a bucket with ice, grabbed a glass, and carried them back out to the ramada. She helped Maine sit up and gave him another drink.

  “I know that you did not mean to kill your brother.”

  Maine shook his head. “He came at me. I didn’t mean to hurt him.” He drained the glass of whiskey and accepted a second drink.

  “Of course you didn’t mean to hurt him. You loved him, didn’t you?”

  Maine nodded. “I loved him. He shared his wife with me. I’d have shared you with him, but I just wanted firsties.” He drained the second glass and began hiccupping.

  “Of course you wanted me first, but he tried to cut in front of you. I mean, you should have had me first before you killed me and took my land.”

  Maine slurred, “Tatum was going to make us rich too.” He hiccupped again. “Said we could get that million credits and more when we got your land for him.”

  Veronica nodded. She suspected Manning Tatum was involved. She said, “That’s right. You can get lots of land and lots of money. All you wanted was to take me first. Maybe you could have a son of your own.” She filled another glass, adding more ice. “Here, Sweetie. You have the hiccups. Drink this. It’ll help.”

  Maine chugged the glass of whiskey like it was water. “I never wanted to hurt Dillon.”

  Veronica said, “It doesn’t matter what you wanted. You killed him.”

  Maine grabbed the bottle of whiskey from Veronica and drank a long pull.

  Veronica said, “You killed your own brother.”

  Maine took another long swig.

  She said, “You stabbed Dillon in the chest.”

  Maine drank again.

  “You took your brother’s life over a piece of tail that you didn’t even want.”

  Maine drank.

  “You killed your brother.”

  Maine drank the remainder of the whiskey and let the empty bottle drop to the ground.

  Veronica retrieved the third whiskey bottle from the kitchen. She thought about getting the little bottle of brown stain remover from her bathroom cabinet, but it was too soon with Dillon dying today. She shook her head and took the whiskey out to Maine.

  He twisted the bottle cap off and took a long drink. Most of the whiskey dribbled down his chin, spilling on, and spoiling his new red shirt.

  Veronica shook her head at the thought that it was certainly a waste of a perfectly good shirt.

  Before Maine could take another drink, he passed out, falling back on the chaise lounge.

  Veronica pressed the lever dropping the back of the lounge chair down so Maine lay flat.

  She went back into the house, locked the doors, set the alarms, and switched the vidphone to accept messages only.

  She stripped off her wedding dress. She liked the dress but knew she would never be able to put it on again. After stuffing the dress into the trash compactor, she showered, running the water hotter than normal.

  Twice she looked at the little cabinet under the sink, where the little bottle of stain remover was located. She shook her head both times. Tom
orrow would be too soon—but not soon enough.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Dawn came too early for Veronica. It had been a long night. She had locked herself inside her house at mid-afternoon, leaving her drunken husband passed out in the ramada. She spent the rest of the day and most of the evening refining her farming plans, diagramming, researching crops, generating activity checklists, and setting labor schedules. She worked hard on her budget plans. She was flat broke. She did not have the funds to pay her loyal crew.

  She stumbled to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, she flipped open the cabinet door and pulled out the stain remover. If things went as planned, she would soon have enough money to make her budget viable. She wondered how often plans succeeded as they were originally designed.

  She mumbled. “It would make more sense to let this wait, but…I’m not going to keep Maine out of my bed for long.” She brushed her teeth, got dressed, combed her hair, and grabbed the bottle of stain remover. She walked out to the ramada.

  Maine lay exactly where she left him on the chaise lounge. She wrinkled her nose. The man had vomited all over the front of his shirt. It lay dry and crusted on his clothing, the chaise lounge, and on his face.

  Veronica kicked his boot. He did not move. She kicked his boot harder. He still did not move.

  She set the bottle of stain remover on a table and activated her data-patch. Tapping in a few commands, she ran a scan on Maine.

  He was dead.

  “Huh,” she said. “But I didn’t…I…well, doesn’t that beat all!”

  She went back inside to the vidphone and called Sheriff Eustace.

  Eustace finally answered. “Isn’t it kind of early for you to call me? It is the day after your wedding and all.”

  Veronica smiled. “Well, Sheriff Eustace, I have need of your official recorder duties. We’ve had a death at my place. Would you come out and take an official statement.”

  Eustace said, “It’s Sunday. This is my day off. Can’t wait until tomorrow?”

  “Well, Sheriff Eustace, since it is Sunday and your day off, suppose that I pay you…say a hundred credits…if you can take an IOU until I get my next crop in.”