And soon.
Mackestray’s lip curled when he thought about it. Upcoming elections. There was nothing democratic about it. The votes had been logged into the system before the first voter cast her ballot. The process didn’t matter since the outcome depended on the final tally. His boy would win by a sound one percent.
It was worth a cool million credits, which was still a steep discount based on influence from the back end. In Tod’s mind, having a hotline to the chairman’s ear was worth more than credits. The world would be shaped under his influence. And if the chairman tried to cut ties? The Blokite had the evidence of vote tampering that he’d share with the public.
It was called leverage, and Tod Mackestray used it like a surgeon used a scalpel.
Grainger sat in a dark corner where he could see out the vast All Guns Blazing window while also seeing the entrance, his double Flaming Buki Hole forgotten on the table before him.
The datapad next to the drink buzzed, drawing his eye. High Chancellor Wyatt. He looked around to make sure no one was nearby, tipped the screen, and tapped to answer. “What can I do for you, High Chancellor?”
“We have a couple big cases on the docket, and I don’t see that any Magistrates have been assigned.” The older man smiled, but his voice was cold.
“Not all cases,” Grainger replied. He tapped through his screens while the reduced image of the High Chancellor stared at him from the upper left corner. Two Magistrates were already on their way. He tapped a couple of buttons. “Jael and Chi are looking into the gang violence in the Tricott Cluster, and Buster is already digging into the government corruption case. I put two on one case, High Chancellor, based on what we learned working as a team. Sometimes it takes two sets of eyes to get the law and the case right. That one could be dangerous.”
Wyatt looked disappointed but answered pleasantly, “That fills two, but we still have a couple major issues out there, and we’re slowly building a backlog. What are you going to assign to Rivka?”
“She’s asked for some time off to take care of a personal matter.”
The High Chancellor sat up straight and leaned toward the screen. “What kind of personal matter?”
“She wouldn’t tell me, but I think she’s going after Red’s former employers—the ones who put a price on his head,” Grainger whispered at the screen.
Wyatt clicked his tongue and nodded slowly. “Then she is going to do legal work that needs to be done. Give her all the support she needs but won’t ask for, and log it as an official case sanctioned by me, classified to the highest degree. Our eyes only.”
“I’ll inform her at once,” Grainger said, but Wyatt shook his head.
“She shouldn’t keep secrets from us, so we’ll keep this under our hats, so to speak. She’s going to a dangerous place. I’ll inform the Bad Company that we may need their services.”
“Nothing like a mechanized combat unit and destroyer to emphasize certain legal interpretations.” Grainger checked over his shoulder. He was alone. “I’ll leave her to it. The Magistrate ships have trackers, so we’ll know where Peacekeeper is at all times.”
“Is that the name she gave it? Maybe she needs a bigger ship. She has a way of rescuing the distraught and building followers.”
Grainger laughed easily. “She does indeed. I think the only thing keeping her from taking on more is the size of her ship. I think the corvette might be best.”
Wyatt delivered a genuine smile. “Keep me informed.” The older man’s face faded from the screen. Grainger shut down his pad, shoved it inside his jacket, and stood, promptly bumping into someone. Rivka looked up at him.
“Who you talking with?”
Grainger stepped back smoothly to stay out of Rivka’s reach. “When are you headed out?” he countered.
“After you give me some answers.” Rivka slowly extended her hand. Grainger picked up a plate and used it as a shield to fend her off.
“We all need our secrets, don’t you think? Maybe you tell me straight up: where are you going?”
Rivka stuffed her hand into her pocket. “You are correct, Grainger, but don’t let it go to your head. I’m sure you’ll be wrong next time. We find ourselves at an impasse, so with that, I’ll return to my ship. I have some prep work to do for my time off.”
“We got your back. Just let us know, and we’ll be there,” Grainger told her.
“I know. I’m not quite ready to share yet, but when I am, you’ll be the first.”
Grainger leaned against the table as Rivka maneuvered her way through the bar and out the front, nodding and waving at the staff as she went. He looked at his unfinished drink, put his plate back on the table, and tried to remember where he had been going. When nothing came to mind, he returned to his drink, finished it, and called for another.
He turned his datapad on and started reading an old-time science fiction novel.
Chapter Two
Rivka scowled at the screen while reclining in the captain’s chair. “You haven’t found a damn thing? How is that possible?”
“Mister Tod Mackestray maintains a non-presence. He doesn’t exist, as far as the Federation is concerned,” Chaz, the ship’s artificial intelligence, replied.
“He has to exist, or at least his companies do. You know the old adage, Chaz. Follow the money. You’ve been given access to how Red was paid back then. What did you find?”
“The company that paid him had exactly one employee. As soon as Red left, that company dissolved. There are too many companies with only one employee. I cannot canvass them all.”
“Ankh is on board. Did you ask Erasmus and him for help?” Ankh’s custom-designed AI called Erasmus had been instrumental in helping resolve Rivka’s previous two cases. Erasmus lived inside the Crenellian’s head.
“Ankh is not currently on board. He left shortly after Jayita departed for work.”
“We’re going to need their help. Hang on.” Rivka opened the hatch on the bridge and yelled, “Red! Get your ass in here.”
She laughed softly as she waited.
“Really? This is how we talk to each other now?” Red asked. Lindy was at his side dressed in shorts and one of Red’s old t-shirts.
“It isn’t. I’m sorry, big man. I wanted to tell you that Chaz is unable to find any data on your old boss.”
“Which one?”
“Mackestray,” Chaz clarified.
“That guy was a total snake, for a Blokite anyway. He jumped from planet to planet, never setting up in one place for too long. I don’t know any way to track him. He didn’t share any particulars of his businesses, but he bought and sold influence.”
“How could a ghost sell influence?”
“That’s probably the best way to sell it. He keeps his hands clean while threatening to blackmail others. Pay to keep him quiet or pay to dethrone an opponent. Politics is a nasty business, and thus a fertile place for scum like Mackestray. Before you say it, I thought he was a politician aspiring for some high office because of the people he was meeting with until I heard the conversations, and then I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”
“Who is the other guy, and how’d you come to work for him?” Rivka asked.
“The other is an interesting character. His name is K’Twillis, an Aborginian. He’s half-plant, half-humanoid, and needs a certain amount of solar radiation each day for photosynthesis. It’s a strange race. He speaks by way of a microphone thing that he carries and surrounds himself with a security team of locals and aliens.”
“Since the Federation is race-neutral, we can’t track aliens based on their species, but we can search for them based on their dietary restrictions if they’ve registered them with the authorities,” Chaz remarked. “A quick search does not find an individual named K’Twillis anywhere in the Federation.”
“Of course not. You left his service why?” Rivka asked.
“Mining. He runs operations that rip gashes in planets’ surfaces,” Red replied.
; Rivka chewed on her lip. “You don’t strike me as an eco-warrior, and modern reclamation technologies can clean things like that up in short order, so why did that bother you?”
“It cuts me deeply that you wouldn’t think I care about the environment.” Red winked at the Magistrate. “It’s not that it can’t be reclaimed, but his methods were to forcibly displace the locals, or kill them if they didn’t move. Have you ever gone into someone’s home in the middle of the night and torn them from their beds? I have. One time. I wouldn’t do it after that. The people were terrified and for good reason. K’Twillis sent crews in and strip-mined a place, abandoning it after he got what he wanted.”
“Mining operations have huge footprints. Illegal mining? How in the hell does he get away with that?”
“Buys off local officials.”
“But then it would be legal mining, based on the corruption of the locals. Bribery isn’t a big crime. Selling out your planet? Those people need to be on the receiving end of some Magistrate Justice.”
“That, too,” Red admitted. “But we leaned on them as necessary.”
“Chaz, can you track strip mining operations from...”
“Try Remus Six,” Red offered.
“From Remus Six. Let’s see if he’s leaving a trail across the galaxy.”
“This would be easier if Erasmus could help,” Chaz requested.
Ankh. Could you and Erasmus return to Peacekeeper, please? We need your help, Rivka sent using their internal comm. She expected an answer right away but didn’t get one.
“Chaz, will you locate Ankh, please?” Worry lines creased Rivka’s brow.
“He’s in the Pod-doc on Level Four.”
“I’ll be back,” Rivka said, running for the hatch. Red fell in behind her, and Lindy behind him. The Magistrate didn’t question it. She accepted that they would join her and hoped she didn’t need their expertise.
Jay leaned against the wall while the technician kept his hands off the controls. His arm twitched because he wanted to make adjustments, but a tsk from Jay stopped him. Ankh and Erasmus were in control, even from inside the Pod-doc.
When the cycle ended, the door opened, and Ankh climbed out and got dressed. Jay kneeled to be at eye-level with him. “You don’t look any different.”
“I wouldn’t suppose so, no,” the Crenellian replied evenly. He didn’t bother to thank the technician. That wasn’t his way. He walked out without a further word, stopping when Rivka nearly ran into him.
“Ankh! I was worried about you,” the Magistrate admitted. Red and Lindy visually scoured the corridor to ensure that Rivka was safe before they turned their attention to the small alien.
“Why?” Ankh asked innocently.
“I didn’t know you were going to...” Her voice trailed off as she looked him up one side and down the other. “What did you have done?”
“The actions on Collum Gate convinced me that I needed to survive getting shot, so I’ve programmed my nanocytes to respond to injuries, plus I enhanced my skeleton, including my cranium. It is protected by a titanium alloy now. Can’t risk Erasmus.”
“Or yourself,” Jay suggested with a smile.
Rivka stood with her hands on her hips, unsure of how she was feeling. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to be angry that you didn’t tell me or happy that you are now better protected. And why aren’t you at work?” Rivka raised an eyebrow at Jayita.
“I got fired.”
“I have been around humans long enough to know that your emotions are your undoing,” Ankh started. “I do what needs to be done. I am on the team for that purpose. Do you trust me?”
Rivka stammered before replying. “I’m sorry, Ankh. You are correct.”
“Of course I am.” Ankh’s expression never changed. He wore his night-vision goggles on his forehead.
Rivka wanted to call him an ass but thought better of it. She needed him more than he needed her, and he wasn’t trying to be abrasive. Ankh was hopelessly honest. Ankh was Ankh.
“We need your help, Ankh. We’re looking for a couple of individuals who don’t want to be found.”
Ankh looked up at her. “Is it a case or a mission?”
Rivka smiled. “We’ll call it a reckoning, but we’ll stay within the framework of the law. We have to.”
“Yes, yes. Let’s get back to the ship, and you can tell me all about it.” Ankh strolled off at his slow pace, but Red picked him up. The bodyguard’s patience was extremely limited, and Ankh didn’t mind getting a ride.
“You said you were fired,” Rivka started. “Why?”
“They said they didn’t want my kind in there.”
“What did they mean by that?” Rivka questioned.
“Someone working there for the perks, or not a member of the family, or hair too blue, or whatever.”
Rivka’s lip twitched, and she growled deep in her throat. “Detour.”
“I thought we might,” Red remarked. Lindy nodded, taking the lead to hurry the group toward the spa.
“What are you going to do?” Jay asked.
“What I always do: learn the truth.”
Jay hung her head and followed. Rivka wondered if Jay had been completely honest, but didn’t press her and avoided touching her. The Magistrate knew that Jay was upset, but couldn’t pinpoint why. She’d find out soon enough.
K’Twillis shambled through the park, spreading his leafy arms to catch as much sunshine as possible. Two bodyguards walked nearby, hands conspicuously clutching automatic weapons. In a place like Capstan, weapons were rarely allowed. Those with them were given a wide berth, which was exactly how K’Twillis liked it.
He removed a comm device from the foliage surrounding his body and held it up to what passed for a mouth. “Do we have the permits yet?” he asked in the whistling and rustling that passed for the Aborginian language. The device converted it to Galactic Standard.
“Not yet. They seem to think that operations are already underway. They want to visit the site to understand the boundaries.”
“We’ve been working for two weeks now. Under no circumstances are they to visit the site. Show them the video.”
“I did, and they aren’t convinced. They want to see it,” the voice on the other end said, his pitch increasing with each word.
K’Twillis clicked off and called a new contact. “He’s finished his usefulness. Replace him with someone who will do as I ask.”
“It’ll be done today,” the other voice replied, and the link was cut.
“What do you think?” the Aborginian asked no one in particular. “Beautiful days should have beautiful deeds by which to remember them.”
The bodyguards maintained their distance and their vigils.
The old woman at the desk crossed her arms and scowled at the unseemly group that stormed into the spa’s foyer. “You are banned. You no come back!” the woman declared, shaking a finger at Jay as she peeked out from behind Red’s bulk.
“Why is she banned?” Rivka demanded, moving close. The woman stood her ground. Rivka smiled pleasantly and touched the woman on the arm. “I asked why she was banned.”
“She was a bad employee. She don’t take reservations!”
Rivka saw gaps in the schedule where there could have been massage appointments.
“Jay?” She turned a cold glare toward the young woman with the tight curls.
“They were waffling about their appointments. I couldn’t convince them to reserve a spot.” Jay lifted her head and stared back at the old woman. “She raised the prices, and is blaming me that people think it’s too expensive.”
Rivka rolled her eyes, sorry that she’d put herself in the middle of it. The old woman’s guilt rose to the surface before quickly subsiding.
“We’re out of here,” Rivka said and twirled a finger in the air to indicate that they were leaving. Ankh’s eyes were unfocused. Rivka wondered what he was doing but wouldn’t ask. Some things were better left unknown.
“You go!”
the old woman repeated.
Rivka stopped and shook her head. She turned back until she was nose to nose with the woman. “If you want me to shut this place down, say one more word.”
The proprietor looked like she was going to say something, but stopped, re-crossed her arms and glared at the group. Rivka hurried away so she didn’t have to make good on her threat.
“Jay,” Rivka said calmly. “Would you come a little closer, please?”
The young woman was reluctant but worked her way to Rivka’s side. “Are you going to punish me?”
“No. I think you’re doing enough of that yourself, but listen to me. You are never to go back there. Maybe you’re not a salesman, but you can’t keep slots empty just so you can get a deep discount on a massage. That’s not cool.”
“I know, but they were all angry at the new prices and I couldn’t fill the schedule. I can only apologize so much. I took the slots so they didn’t lose too much money.”
“I understand,” Rivka said, stopping to hug the young woman. “It looked like a good fit, but it wasn’t. You have a job, so let’s get you better suited for it. I’d like you and Lindy to go to the gym for a workout. Red, Ankh, and I have a few things we need to do to prepare for our next case, so we’ll be returning to the ship.”
“I don’t feel like working out,” Jay muttered.
“That’s your job, and you need to go do it. We don’t get to pick our moods in our line of work. Consider this good practice. We’ll meet you at the ship when you’re finished.”
Chapter Three
Tod Mackestray lounged in an antechamber of the governor’s palace, the nicest home on Amberstrom. Located in the Gridlow Expanse, the series of six habitable planets had banded together to join the Federation. They operated under one umbrella, which created more travel than Tod wanted.
He grumbled, “Every time I leave one place for another, the natives run wild and I have to waste time getting them back under control.” He sneered at the thought. “What to do about that? I need to leave an agent behind, but I don’t trust anyone enough to let them operate in my name.”
Judge, Jury, & Executioner Boxed Set Page 59