by Eric Thomson
“As long as we don’t see him on this tub, who cares.”
“I guess I need to cut off both the booze and the sex, buddy. You’re not thinking this through.”
“Cruel woman.”
He sat up and tried to grab her around the waist, but she escaped his hands.
“If we were being tailed by the creepy professor, chances are he’ll have handed off to someone already aboard Xenophon. Someone we can’t easily spot as being way too interested in a pair of vaguely disreputable, worn-out spacers.”
“Paranoia’s an ugly thing.”
“Even paranoids have real enemies.” She sat down across from him on a chair bolted to the bulkhead. “I just hope that the sighting of Amali’s yacht at Nabhka was accurate. I don’t know how long the boss is going to let us keep roaming before he hauls us home for a new mission.”
“If he does, I’ll just go AWOL,” Zack responded philosophically. “Once I’ve killed Amali, I really don’t care if they send me to a penal battalion for my thirty days penance.”
“You know, for all that you had officer-level command responsibilities in a desperate situation, you still sometimes think like an irresponsible private.”
He leered at her.
“Speaking of which, wanna see my privates, little girl?”
“You can be a major pain in the ass when you put your mind to it, Zack.”
“Does that mean I get myself a direct commission? I’ve always wanted to introduce myself as Major Pain.”
She groaned loudly.
“That’s it. I’m going to go speak to the purser about getting my own cabin.”
“And miss out on all of this? Enjoy it while you can. If you’ve never been to Nabhka, you have no idea what a planet without fun feels like.”
“But it must be good for something if Amali’s gone to ground there.”
“Not necessarily. Anyone coming after him is going to stick out like a sore thumb in all but the largest cities. After what the Shrehari did to the place seventy years ago, during their occupation, the natives aren’t keen on outsiders in the more traditional towns and villages. All he needs is a little out of the way fortress that’s not on anyone’s map and on Nabhka, pretty much everything is out of the way.”
“I wish I knew how he was tipped off.” She got up again and started pacing the small cabin.
“He probably wasn’t, at least not to our little operation.” Decker slumped back and stared at the underside of the upper bunk. “What I think happened is that he got news of my return to civilization. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out Zack Decker, hothead, killer and all-around charming guy would be out for revenge. He ordered the pirates to tell me he was behind my kidnapping and sale into slavery, and that little mistake sealed the deal. I’m sure he’s got people on the lookout for me, but I’m not at all convinced he knows that intelligence has sanctioned a hit on him. In fact, I pretty much doubt it. He’s probably got me down as a rogue agent.”
“Makes sense. She glanced at her timepiece. “Another two hours before we sail and they open the dining room.”
“I’ve got a couple of ideas about things we could do in the meantime.”
“Like I said, beer and sex: a Marine’s biggest motivators,” she smirked at him, “and since there’s no beer to be had until the dining room opens...”
*
Hera Talyn was wrong. The slight, seedy-looking man from the station was sitting forlornly in a corner of the lounge, nursing a glass of purplish wine. He looked up as the two operatives entered and a faint smile played on his thin lips before he returned his gaze to the scarred tabletop.
“Should we go introduce ourselves?” Decker asked in a low voice as they made their way to the bar.
“And tip our hand? No.”
They looked at the drinks selection offered by the automat.
“No Shrehari Ale. Bastards,” Decker groused. “All they have is Pacifican horse piss.”
“You’re too picky.” She touched the screen to order a gin and tonic. “Have a nice whiskey-soda.”
“Can’t,” he replied after scanning the list. “No decent whiskey either. Just some so-so rotgut, but I suppose that’s still better than what passes for beer on this tub.”
He took a sip after the machine spat out an amber-colored bulb and grimaced.
“I think I just insulted rotgut.”
“Cry-baby. Let’s go grab a table. They should be ringing the chow bell any time now, and we don’t know how full this place will get.”
“Could the professor be a decoy?” Zack asked as they sat. “You know, just a bit too obvious so we notice and don’t see the guy with the shiv behind us?”
“Possible.” She nodded slowly. “With that kind of paranoid thinking, we’ll make an agent out of you yet.”
“And if my grandmother had wheels, she’d be a chariot. When this is over, I want to go back to a line regiment, Hera.”
She made an exasperated face.
“I’m tired of repeating it, but your ass belongs to us, for now, and forever.”
“I guess it’s true love then.”
“More like borderline toleration, but whatever you might do in a pathfinder unit won’t be as important as working in the special duties section.”
“So you keep saying. By the way, that creepy little fuck is still glancing at us.” He took a long sip of his down-market whiskey. “Are you sure it wouldn’t clear the air if I went over there for a chat?”
She considered the question, thinking Decker might have the right idea after all, but a chime rang out, notifying the passengers that the buffet line was open.
“Shall we?” She asked.
“Give it a moment.”
Other passengers began to stream into the dining compartment, responding to the bell like cattle in the field.
“Let’s see if our professor makes eye contact with anyone,” Zack suggested, taking another sip of his drink.
“Tall woman in the lavender suit, with slicked back pink hair,” she murmured.
“Too flashy. If the prof’s a distraction, his partner will be more like the chubby blonde who’s determined not to look at him.”
“The one with the convoluted necklace?”
“Right. That thing around her neck would make an excellent short range bolo.”
“Looks too soft for an assassin.”
“And I look too stupid for an intelligence operative,” Zack pointed out with a small grin.
“Touché”
“You didn’t have to agree with me.”
“No, but you’d have been disappointed if I hadn’t. Time to get some food. I think everyone that’s going to show up for supper is in line, including our seedy sod.” She stood up in a fluid movement that hinted at a lithe and well-honed musculature. Feeling his admiring eyes on her, she winked.
“Mind out of the gutter, lover boy.”
*
“I’ve had better in worse places.”
He belched as if to underline his critique of the food. They were alone in the passageway, walking back to their quarters, the other passengers having either drifted off before them or still in the dining lounge, shoving creds into the drinks machine.
“And you’ve had worse in better places, so I’ll save my sympathy for someone who deserves it,” she replied.
Something suddenly tugged at his subconscious.
“When was the last time you saw the prof?”
“About ten minutes ago. Why?”
“You ever watch that really silly kid’s show where everyone keeps saying they had a bad feeling about something?”
“Who didn’t? It was all the rage a few decades ago.”
“Well, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
He motioned her to take up position on the other side of their cabin door before pulling out his blaster. Then, he touched the lock panel.
The seedy-looking little man was sitting on the lower bunk, legs crossed. His smile, meant to be ingrat
iating, was belied by eyes devoid of emotion.
“Please come in and put that undersized cannon away.”
“Who the heck are you, buddy?” Decker growled, stepping in and to the side so that Hera could join him. “And what are you doing in our compartment?”
“Close the door and, as I just asked, put your gun away. I’m not about to try anything stupid with two obviously well-trained operatives in a confined space.”
Talyn nodded at Zack, who touched the controls. The door slid back into place with a sigh, cutting them off from any passers-by.
“I’ll holster his,” Decker waggled the blaster, “once you tell me who you are.”
“May I pull my ID from my pocket?” He raised his right hand and pointed at his left breast.
Decker nodded. “Yes, but if anything else comes out, you’re going to need an artificial hand.”
The man dipped his thumb and forefinger into the narrow opening and made a great show of pulling out a gray wafer, which he held up, shiny side facing the intelligence officers.
Zack snorted after reading the display.
“Inspector Grint, Commonwealth Constabulary. Why does a cop think he can just bust into someone else’s cabin? Even you guys have to follow the law.”
“On board a commercial starship? Please. I can do whatever I believe is covered by the doctrine of reasonable suspicion.” The smile didn’t waver. “I just want to have a quiet conversation with the two of you. If I’m happy, you won’t have to talk to me for the rest of the voyage. Now about your gun?”
Decker looked down at the weapon and shrugged.
“Sure. I’ll stow it. If you get uppity, I can just reach out and break your scrawny neck.”
“Thank you. I won’t insult your intelligence by asking you for ID or names. It’s a given that you’re traveling under aliases.” When neither of them reacted, he continued. “I’ll get straight to the point, then. I’ve been following a known team of private contractors, guns for hire, if you like, who, for the longest time, seemed to be waiting for someone. They appeared to take keen interest in you two the moment you appeared on the station, though I could sense a certain hesitancy, as if they weren’t entirely convinced you were their intended targets. It stands to reason that if you’re traveling under assumed identities, you probably don’t look like yourselves either. It could also be that they expected only one of you and when two showed up, they had to re-arrange their plans. So I asked myself why the folks I was watching were fascinated by a pair of rather rough-looking, middle-aged spacers. You know what I deduced?”
He glanced at each of them in turn, as if expecting an answer when the question was obviously meant to be rhetorical.
“I’m sure you’re about to enlighten us, inspector,” Talyn said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in her tone. He seemed momentarily annoyed at the interruption.
“I told myself that perhaps these lovely people were operatives of some government agency other than the one I represent. You two, especially you, buddy, carry the military aroma that long-service veterans can never quite wash away. That, of course, made me wonder why hired guns were on your scent.”
“Why wouldn’t we be private sector types?” Decker shrugged dismissively. “Think about outfits like the Avalon Corporation.”
Grint chuckled softly.
“I’ve yet to see private sector operatives warrant the attention of high priced contractors and I’ve been in this game for thirty years.”
They stared at him impassively.
“You have no idea then, why someone might wish to make you vanish?”
“Nope. We’re just ordinary spacers between jobs and haven’t annoyed anyone lately.” He glanced at his companion. “Did you piss someone off that I don’t know about, honey?”
“Other than that idiot on Dordogne who got miffed when I flirted with his wife? No.”
“Huh. Well, she was kind of cute, and he was a bit of a dork so I can understand where he saw you as serious competition.”
“Funny.” Grint tilted his head to the side, seemingly unimpressed by the banter. “You don’t seem especially concerned about the information I’ve just imparted.”
“We can handle ourselves, inspector,” Talyn replied nonchalantly. “And I really don’t believe someone would send pros after nobodies like us. You’re on the wrong scent.”
The policeman rose to his feet.
“Alright. Have it your way. I just thought you might be willing to help me catch some dangerous people and perhaps save your own skins. If you change your minds, just let me know.”
As he passed between them to leave the cabin, Decker held up his hand.
“Are these supposed assassins on board?”
Grint’s broad grin was as counterfeit as their identities.
“But of course. If they weren’t here, I wouldn’t be either. Have an excellent night.”
When the door was shut once again, Decker grimaced.
“Do you believe him?”
“What reason would he have to wind up a pair of perfect strangers?”
“That can only mean Amali’s put out a contract on me. His last attempt went sideways, so now he’s called in the best his dirty money can buy, while he’s hiding on one of the most miserable colonies in human space.”
“I suppose you should feel flattered if you scared him that much, Zack.” She began to undress for bed, tossing her sidearm on the upper bunk. “Make sure the door’s properly locked from the inside. If a Constabulary flatfoot got in, there’s no telling who else might try.”
Twenty-Three
“Ser Wenn.” An unwanted hand tapped on Zack’s shoulder. “Ser Wenn.”
He looked up from his meal into the face of a solemn man wearing the three stripes of a merchant first officer.
“What is it?” He sounded irritable, mostly because he’d momentarily forgotten his cover name.
“Might I have a word with you and your companion?”
“What is this about?” Hera asked, dark eyes examining the man with undisguised suspicion.
“It would be better if we moved to a more private space.” He gestured towards a door leading from the passenger lounge to a compartment closed to all but the crew.
Decker glanced at Talyn, who gave him a slight nod.
“As you wish.” He rose to his full height. “Lead on.”
Once they were in the otherwise unoccupied room, the first officer asked them to sit and took a facing chair.
“I’m investigating the disappearance of a passenger who was last seen leaving your cabin almost two standard days ago.”
“And who might that be?” Talyn asked
“Regar Grint. A short man, somewhat disheveled looking by all accounts. A witness places him in the corridor by your compartment shortly after one bell in the evening watch. He’s not been in his quarters since that time, and no one aboard can remember seeing him.”
“Nothing to do with us, first officer.”
“Perhaps, Ser Wenn, but would you be kind enough to tell me about your relationship with the passenger?”
“He thought my partner here,” Zack nodded towards Hera, “looked familiar and wanted to renew his acquaintance.”
“And were you an acquaintance, Sera Venzi?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ve never met the gentleman. Told him as much and after that, he left. We went to bed and did what pair-bonds usually do when they’re bored.”
Decker fought hard to restrain his amusement at the first officer’s almost prudish reaction to Talyn’s quip. Some cultures preferred not to think about where babies came from.
“Well,” he said, hiding his momentary confusion, “do let me know if you remember anything. Losing a passenger while the ship’s in hyperspace is quite an unusual thing and as you can appreciate, we’d rather resolve it before touching port.”
“Understood.” Zack dipped his head. “Was there anything else?”
“Not at this time, Ser Wenn, Sera Ve
nzi. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“Glad to be of service,” Talyn murmured as the merchant officer guided them back to the main lounge.
They grabbed a drink from the dispenser, neither willing to speak within earshot of another living being, so instead of staying in the common compartment, they headed back to their cabin, eyes, and ears on full alert. If Grint was the real deal and hadn’t been spinning tales, his disappearance was worrisome.
“Why do I figure they won’t find our friendly neighborhood copper until they drain the environmental sludge vats during the next major maintenance cycle?”
Decker dropped into his bunk and took a long sip of rotgut and soda.
Talyn didn’t answer, preferring to pace like a caged lioness, drinking from her bulb every so often.
“Let’s say Grint really was a Constabulary Inspector, and let’s also say he was on the tail of a hit squad that just happened to have a contract for our demise, why kill him?”
“So we’d be easier to take? He did seem to know who they might be.”
“Seriously, Zack? In what universe does that scan? Whether the inspector was alive or not, the work of assassinating us on board a ship in hyperspace would be equally difficult. Now, they’ve more or less tipped their hand.”
“So maybe they’ve got a ninja hidden in the closet, just waiting for you to start snoring.”
“I do not snore.”
“Suit yourself. Next thing you’re going to say is that you don’t moan during sex.”
“Try and take this seriously, Zack.”
“Why? Grint’s probably dead, for whatever reasons his murderer or murderers had. We’re alive and a lot harder to take down, if only because there are two of us. We can cover each other’s back.”
“You’re saying that if we’d gone along with Grint, he might still be alive, us keeping an eye on him and all.”
“Yeah.” Decker nodded, altogether unhappy at the turn of events. “He might have come across as a pain in the ass that had all the fashion sense of a cactus, but he was still a Service cousin, as the bloody gray legs go.”
“Sleep in shifts?”
“No question. I’ll take the first watch until eight bells.”