“Looks like you were making the best of it,” Rivka said pointing with her chin at the clothes still on the floor.
“Well, there are some benefits to being me, but overall, I lost my ass and part of my soul. If you can get Mackestray, that would be a great burden lifted from my shoulders.”
“That’s because he’s the causal link to your crimes that we know you’ve committed.” Rivka held the mayor’s arm to make sure she understood what the Magistrate was about to say. “I will reserve passing judgment on you—for now, that is. Here’s what I need you to do if you are to avoid exposure and punishment. You will be the best damn mayor this city has ever seen. You will be so selfless that homeless people will feel sorry for you.”
“I understand,” she replied softly.
“That is a far cry from what I need to hear.” The images flashing through Rivka’s mind suggested she would comply, at least as much as her nature allowed.
“I will do as you require of me.”
“You will do as your people require. And no more of this bullshit!” Rivka kicked at the clothes as she walked away. Red pulled the door open until it fell off its battered hinges, then leaned it against the wall and shrugged.
Jay took Ankh’s hand, and they walked out together. Lindy led the way through the suddenly crypt-quiet group of aides and assistants. The mayor started yelling people’s names, creating a stir and a flurry of activity as those called hurried to her office. The naked man was nowhere to be seen. Rivka couldn’t complain about the mayor’s taste, only her judgment.
And the fact that she was a politician. On the stairs, she asked Jay, “Do you think I’m overly harsh toward politicians?”
“I think politicians are too used to people blowing smoke up their asses. I believe they are genetically incapable of telling the whole truth, so they don’t know how to deal with you. You are boxing, and they are trying to play chess. They keep trying to move their pieces while you’re punching them in the face. They are left bloodied, not understanding why they haven’t won.”
“I appreciate your insight. I think they should give you points for the first face punch.”
“I think so!”
“No can do,” Ankh said.
Licensing Board Chairman Dies in Fiery Hover Crash
K’Twillis read the headlines twice before digging into the article. “Who’s your replacement?” he asked after finding that the board was in limbo. That served his purpose as much as having someone in his pocket. He only needed the pits to work without oversight for a couple more months before he’d cash out and abandon it all.
Coming from a planet of swamps, K’Twillis found that strip mining the drylands for their most profitable minerals wasn’t a conflict. If they were decent creatures, then they wouldn’t live in such climates. He reasoned that he could do nothing to their already ugly planets that would make them worse.
Except line his pockets, if he’d had pockets.
What does the galaxy’s richest mining entrepreneur do with his money?
“Whatever I want,” he answered himself. “I will stop when I can buy an entire planet. I need enough people to keep my swamp clean, to keep the skies clear, and make sure that no one bothers me. That is my desire.” He stood alone in a channel of water well away from the city. He didn’t need the modern conveniences the population embraced. He needed money, lots of expendable credit chips, and a few phone numbers. Outside of that, he trusted the planetary surveys done by a Magnetite trader, for which K’Twillis paid him well.
Finding key people was easy. Getting them to turn a blind eye was almost as simple most of the time, but on Felgar, he found his efforts repulsed. That was why the chairman had to die. If he had to remove another, people would grow suspicious and the tendrils leading back to him would become more prevalent.
He wanted only enough time to finish the job and move on. Anonymity was his friend.
“Billister!” he “shouted” through his microphone.
The wiry former soldier appeared, eyes shifting with each step. The ease with which he carried his weaponry suggested the man knew one purpose in life.
“Sir?” Billister’s voice sounded like gravel bouncing within a can. K’Twillis’ ears couldn’t tell the difference.
“Prepare primary and contingency plans to eliminate the members of the licensing board.”
“Roger,” the man confirmed before walking out.
“You make this easy,” K’Twillis called. He contemplated paying the man a bonus but rejected it. He was already being paid top credit. Pay for the best, get the best. Now, if only the miners would pick up the pace. “Billister! Tomorrow morning we’re taking a trip to the pit. You might have to light a fire under those lazy bastards. Are your boys ready and able to do that?”
“Lighting a fire” was the harshest phrase the Aborginian could use. On his planet, no good came from fire. It was beyond deadly to his people.
Billister stuck his head back in the door. “Of course. I’ll line up the truck. Four AM departure to catch them sleeping on the job?”
It wasn’t the first time they’d visited the site. It definitely wouldn’t be the last. The security man knew that the time frame allocated for the operation was shrinking, which meant more hands-on engagement. If the workers would work only when the whip was cracked, then they’d have to score a great number of backs to get the job done.
Billister was fine riding herd on the minions. He earned one month of vacation a year, working twenty-four/seven the other eleven months. This was the other eleven. He checked his mental whip to make sure the spurs and burrs were in place and ready to tear flesh.
“Come on, boys, we have a couple missions,” he told the group of locals he’d hired solely for their muscles and lack of attachments. In the end, they’d all be killed. He couldn’t leave loose ends hanging, like the one who got away. He’d never forget the man’s name.
Vered.
“Where are we going, Ankh?” Rivka asked.
The Crenellian stared unfocused eyes at a spot on the bulkhead. “Erasmus has tracked the ship through three different destination systems. The newest information is months old, unfortunately, but maybe that indicates Tod Mackestray and Pandora’s Pleasure are still there.”
“Sounds like a shortcut. Take us out, Chaz,” Rivka ordered while she studied the screen. “Look at the election cycle on that planet. I’m willing to bet that the elections happened a couple of months ago.”
“You are correct,” Erasmus noted. “Extrapolating election data and overlaying it on the star chart, focusing solely on planet-wide events, we have three potential systems where Mackestray may currently be.”
“Do we guess, or do we go to his last known location and try to find out what he renamed his ship?” Rivka asked rhetorically.
Jay put her hand on the Magistrate’s shoulder to show her camaraderie with the unanswerable. “Whatever we do, you’ll make it work.”
“Last known location,” Rivka declared. “I’m still building the case. I want to interrogate the accused to learn the truth. I believe Red unequivocally, but I need this to be airtight. When we have Mister Mackestray in custody, we’ll go back to those we’ve talked to and make sure he’s the one, if there is any doubt whatsoever.”
“I hope it turns out that way, Magistrate,” Red replied. “I think it’ll probably end with the sound of railguns unloading.”
“I get the impression he won’t go without a fight. I don’t want to take unnecessary risks to capture him alive.”
“The universe will be a much better place without someone like Tod Mackestray in it,” Red remarked.
“I can’t make that judgment right now. I hope you understand.” Rivka noted the sour expressions, but she couldn’t compromise her principles.
Red nodded, tight-lipped.
“First and foremost, we need to have the bounty removed. Ankh, is there anything you can do about that?”
Ankh’s vacant expression suggested he was el
sewhere.
“Erasmus? What can you do about removing any references to a price on Red’s head?”
“Finding such a thing is a significant challenge. Where do criminals hide their crimes? Which bars do hitmen frequent, and what do they post to be discovered later? I fear that there is no way for me to resolve the issue digitally. It will take removing the source for the payment.”
“Do you have anything that says for certain there is a contract out on Red?”
“The only thing in Federation possession is images of flyers found in various dives showing a picture of Vered and a variety of reward credits.”
“What’s the highest?” Red asked.
“Fifty thousand,” Erasmus replied over the ship’s speakers.
Red looked disappointed.
“That’s a rather hefty sum for someone to push you out an airlock,” Rivka suggested. Lindy gave Red a push from behind.
“Fifty k?”
“Stop it.” Red smiled and pushed her back. “I’m still not sure what I’m getting paid since the deposit amounts seem to vary wildly. Are you deducting for ammunition used?”
Rivka shrugged and threw up her hands. “How would I know any of that? I don’t know what I’m getting paid. I think what you really want to know, my rather large friend, is whether it is more lucrative to keep you around.”
“Inquiring minds want to know. Do I have to sleep with one eye open?” Red looked at Lindy, head up and eyes narrowed in question.
“Since I don’t want any felons on my crew, I guess we’ll issue the edict that no one gets to kill Red to collect the credits. The Magistrate has spoken. So let it be written, so let it be done!” Rivka pounded one fist on the table.
“Why not?” Jay asked.
“What?” Rivka and Red asked together.
“You always say to follow the money. Maybe we kill Red and then demand payment. I don’t mean really kill him, just make it look good enough to be paid for our services. Ankh can trace the money and maybe help us find who we’re looking for. There are two contracts, so maybe we can kill two birds with one stone.” Jay crossed her arms and smirked.
“Two birds and Red. Sounds like a banner day,” Lindy noted with a laugh. “And it sounds like a great plan.”
Rivka started pacing, hands behind her back as the details to support Jay’s idea rushed into her head. “Undercover, where we reduce our exposure and get them to come to us. I believe these used to be called ‘sting operations.’”
“So much better than punching people in the face,” Jay suggested without making eye contact with the Magistrate.
“If there is no face punching or blood, then no one wins the pool.” Rivka stopped pacing to look at her team.
“The credits roll over. There will be blood eventually. Someone will win. Grainger expressed interest in joining the pool, as did the other Magistrates.” Red helped himself to five food bars from the processor before asking if anyone else wanted something.
“They wouldn’t dare!”
“I’ll take their money,” Lindy said. Jay nodded. She would, too.
“Ankh? Are you with us, buddy?” Rivka asked.
“He is occupied presently, but we like your plan. Wherever we go next, we’ll need someone to be the executioner. That someone needs to be either Jay or Lindy. You can’t do it, Magistrate, and Ankh refuses to play that role. He chooses to remain aboard Peacekeeper.”
“I’ll do it,” Jay said.
“I’m probably more credible,” Lindy refuted.
Rivka was torn. She didn’t want to put either woman in the line of fire, although one could dodge bullets, while the other would survive getting hit.
“Where’s a man I can offer up for sacrifice?” Rivka pondered. No one laughed. “I’m sorry, Jay.”
“Does that mean it is or isn’t me?”
“I guess it depends on how you look at it. I’m going with Lindy for this. It’s your idea, but I need you to cover Ankh. He, as we have learned in this fantastic future where we live, is critical to finding the evidence we need to locate and prosecute the perpetrators.”
“Glorious,” Red interjected through a mouthful of food bar.
“I know you like the new food bars. You can thank Ankh later.”
Red swallowed heavily. “No, I want my death to be glorious! Explosions and fire, railguns echoing, people screaming, children crying, and burly, manly men raising buckets of ale in my honor. It’s the least you can do for me, Magistrate. Maybe pay me time-and-a-half for my troubles?”
“You and your damn credits. What do you spend your money on, anyway?”
“I have people to take care of now. I’m saving for a month-long honeymoon.”
Lindy smiled.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but we’re just going to transmit a phony death certificate. I think you’ll die in your sleep from poison that gave you a heart attack. The poison will have been hidden in a raspberry chocolate flambeau.”
Red’s lip curled in disgust. “I will never be able to show my face in public again.”
“That’s the idea.” Rivka patted his cheek before returning to the bridge. “Erasmus, we have to make some plans and bring Ankh along with you...”
Chapter Six
Tod Mackestray sat on the bench in a space that served as the dining room and living room. The Blokite’s space yacht was built for speed and maneuverability, along with enough creature comforts for no more than two people. Best if the two were a couple since there was only one bed.
He didn’t have a partner. That bothered him, but not enough to do anything about it. He didn’t trust anyone enough to let them share his life. He would always suspect that they were after his money.
“Margaret, what’s the ETA to our next target? I mean planet? I mean conquest?” The Blokite laughed at his own joke.
“We are fifteenth in the queue through this Gate. There is only a short wait at the second Gate, making our estimated time of arrival in nine hours.”
“What is it going to take to get a Gate drive and one of the new Federation power sources?”
“That is restricted technology and only installed on official Federation ships. Should such a vessel be captured, the AI will suicide, taking the technology with it. At this point in time, I don’t see a way to acquire the drive or power source.”
“Keep your ear to the stars. They’ll come available, and when they do, I want to be the first to get one. I don’t care about the cost.”
“Your wish is my command,” Margaret replied.
“Just how I like it.”
Tod Mackestray retired to the bed.
“Let me know when we arrive, Margaret. I’m sure I’ll be busy since the elections aren’t far off.”
The cycling of the Gate engine was nearly silent, but the shift through the Etheric dimension announced their arrival at the edge of Leed’s Planet space—a single habitable planet in a three-planet system orbiting a large K-Class star.
“No unusual chatter. No noise at all,” Chaz reported. “No obvious threats.”
“Take us in soon as you can.”
“Counting down from ten minutes until the Gate engines are recharged.”
“Thanks, Chaz.”
Rivka left the bridge and joined the others in the recreation room. “We’re going to kill you when we land, Red,” Rivka stated matter-of-factly. “The elections here seem like they didn’t go well. There was an inordinate amount of mud-slinging, which may or may not indicate Mackestray was here. Was it business as usual? I can’t tell when it comes to politicians.”
Jay shook her head. “It’s too easy to believe the worst things.”
“We’ll see whoever is in charge and work our way backward from there. Ankh?”
The Crenellian looked at the Magistrate through bloodshot eyes.
“When was the last time you slept?”
“I don’t need sleep like humans. You people embrace your slices of death as if they are magical. I’ll never understand i
t.”
“You look tired as hell. You should get some rest. We’ll be there soon.”
“Is that what you wanted?” Ankh asked.
“No, sorry. Once we’re on the ground, I need you to find out what happened to Pandora’s Pleasure.”
“Erasmus is already on that. He’ll be accessing the appropriate databases as soon as we arrive.”
“Accessing appropriate databases,” Rivka said slowly. “In my reports, I reference your cyber-sleuthing as those things discovered via a digital footprint. Do I want to know the details of how you find the information?”
Ankh held her gaze as he answered, “You do not.”
“At some point in time, we may have to testify regarding how we did it. Defend that we had probable cause to search.”
“That sounds like a waste of time. I hate wasting time. We will not testify.”
“You might have to.”
“No, we don’t.”
“But you might have to,” Rivka reiterated.
“No, we don’t. How long are we going to do this, Magistrate? I have programs I need to work on.”
“I guess we’re done—for now, that is. Just in case, make sure you...” Rivka’s voice trailed off.
“Do you want the information or not? Our methods are from original programming that most people wouldn’t understand. Ted understands, and Plato, of course, but not your average human.”
“It’s hard not to take that personally, Ankh.” Rivka laughed and smiled. “But it is exactly what you mean because it’s true, even though I think we have vastly different definitions of average.”
Ankh didn’t respond.
“When we hit the ground, Lindy, Jay, and I will head into town. Red, even though you’re dead, stay frosty. We may need you, but your first job is to keep Ankh safe.”
Red nodded and held out his hand. Rivka took what he offered—the coin-sized devices that Ankh had made to help him access alien computer systems.
She immediately shoved them into a jacket pocket.
Judge, Jury, & Executioner Boxed Set Page 62