“This is Ballykissangel Forty-Seven. The intruder has departed. Request return to our previous position in line.”
“Yes,” Chaz answered the captain.
The Gate’s lights blinked, but there was no event horizon.
“Activate the Gate, Margaret,” the Blokite insisted, tensing for impact.
The ship flew through the empty space within the Gate, arriving nowhere except on the other side of the Gate. The ship slowly banked to make its way back.
“What happened, Margaret? We need to leave. Open the Gate and get us the hell out of here.” Mackestray slammed a fist on the console. “Now!”
“I’m sorry, Tod, I can’t do that,” Margaret said. The Blokite struggled to breathe as the air drained from the ship.
“Margaret...” When he passed out from lack of air, enough oxygen returned to keep him unconscious but alive.
As Rivka was anger-tapping her reply, a new message came in.
Mackestray in custody. Will bring both ships to your position at the mine.
Rivka swiped her finger across her message and deleted it. She tapped different words. Well done.
“Shall we?” Red asked, pointing toward the rim above.
“Everything seems to be well in hand,” Rivka replied. “We don’t need to go down there. I’ll zombie them when they bring them out.”
They headed back up the hill. “Kind of anti-climactic, don’t you think, Red?”
“It’s a huge relief knowing those two are out of business. It’s also amazing, the tons of credits crime can pay.”
“Crime with a niche. Mackestray had his unique product, and no one could influence an election like him. And K’Twillis operated illegal mines. Finding exploitable resources is a difficult proposition, yet he could go right to them. In the Federation’s hands, such technology could save a great deal of time over random exploration and sampling. Maybe we’ll find something when we tear that freighter apart. Which reminds me, it’s in Capstanian custody right now. We’ll give them their exotic ore back while the Federation takes the ship.”
Red and Lindy held hands as they walked. Red smiled more than usual.
“It’s nice knowing that without a price on my head, random scumbags won’t be taking pot shots hoping for a quick payout. I don’t want to risk losing you.”
“Even if I’m mean?” Lindy asked.
“Don’t listen to that guy. You’re mean to people who deserve it. We all are.”
“He called me mean too,” Rivka added, nodding. She stopped to glare at her security team when no one said anything. “You think he’s right? You think I’m mean?” She crossed her arms and stood her ground.
“You’re as mean as a fucking snake,” Red blurted.
Rivka did a double-take.
“I’m Magistrate Rivka Anoa, and if you don’t do what I tell you, I’ll punch you in the face,” Red imitated.
“I don’t come across like that, do I?”
Red and Lindy chuckled together as if sharing a private joke.
Red explained, “You have to. Why can’t they respect the office? Frankly, I don’t know why you’re not meaner. I’d start with a punch in the face and then make the requests.”
“What he said,” Lindy agreed.
“Our missions are tough,” Red added.
“Cases,” Rivka corrected.
“Magistrate?” Red shook a finger at her.
“I’ll concede in this case alone that it was more of a mission, but we still collected evidence and built a case that I could defend before a court of law, and I will file the appropriate paperwork. When we have Mackestray in our hands, what do you want me to ask him?”
“I never thought about it,” Red said. “I always expected to kill him.”
“Did he intend to destroy Leed’s Planet?” Lindy offered.
“I think that one may be all we need since it’ll tell us what was in his mind as a civilization was brought to its knees. I want to see what Ankh has. That will put the bow on the package. I see Jhiordaan in his future.”
“Not capital? He gets to live?”
“I’ll judge when I see the evidence, but from what I’ve seen so far, his interference may have been the catalyst, but the underlying causes were there long before the Blokite appeared. He simply exploited them to his clients’ advantage.”
“Maybe you should be meaner?” Red suggested.
“I love the law, Vered!” The Magistrate laughed as they reached the top. She started yelling at two officers remaining with the vehicles, “You need to move all these vehicles over there.”
She pointed, and they hopped. When they finished, a number of vehicles remained that would prevent Peacekeeper’s landing.
“I have an idea.” Red jogged to the haul road and climbed into the truck. It readily started. He leaned out the window. “Why didn’t we move the truck and drive down instead of running along the road like idiots?”
Rivka shrugged. Red nudged the loaded truck up against the first of the vehicles and then jammed the accelerator. The car slid sideways across the lot, slamming into another vehicle and then another. Red carefully backed up and repeated the procedure until the lot was clear. He parked the truck to the side, jumping down and brushing his hands off.
The van maneuvered through the area and headed into the pit, the driver waving as he passed.
A shadow in the sky signaled the approach of the spaceships. The corvette circled before Mackestray’s yacht landed near the shack, then Peacekeeper descended and filled the remainder of the open space. The hatch popped, and Jay ran out with Floyd bouncing after her.
“You were all magnificent!” she declared, hugging each of them. Her nose wrinkled and she pushed quickly away from Red.
He shrugged. “I know, I smell like a swamp. Tangle with an Aborginian and the stench will cling to you forever.”
“I hope not forever. Not when you have a Magistrate on your side.” Lindy kissed Red’s cheek. “I still love you, Stinky.”
Floyd nuzzled Red’s leg and then started to chew on the material. “We should have let her gnaw K’Twillis into submission.”
They made their way to the ship. Is Mackestray incapacitated? Rivka asked.
Yes, Ankh replied. There’s enough oxygen to keep him alive, but not awake. As soon as we open the door, that will change.
“He’s out, but when the door opens, he’ll get a breath of fresh air. We need to be quick about grabbing him.”
“No one is quicker than me,” Jay suggested.
Red handed her the zip-tie cuffs he was holding. “His arms won’t fit behind his back, so cuff him in front, and I’ll carry him out.”
“Simple and effective,” Rivka stated. “We’ll be out here.” Ankh, open the hatch, please.
The hatch popped and dropped to the ground, the inside of it acting as the stairs. Jay was gone in a flash, returning after a few seconds to usher Red inside.
“He’s still out, but now he’s cuffed.” She bowed, and Red climbed in, making the ship look even smaller than it already was. They heard the sound of flesh striking flesh.
“Everything okay in there, Red?” Rivka shouted at the opening.
“Coming out,” he replied, appearing in the hatch with his bundle of Blokite. He tossed the alien outside to land head-first on the ground. Mackestray rolled to his back and blinked at the sky. His whole focus appeared to be on his breathing.
Rivka gripped his arm to hold him down while Red and Lindy loomed over him. Floyd darted in to sniff his face.
“Did you intend to destroy Leed’s Planet?”
“Destroy?” he mumbled.
Rivka struggled to parse what she was seeing in his alien mind. His intent had been to destroy reputations, throw doubt on a process so easily corruptible, and solidify his position as the one to guarantee an election victory.
“I’m sorry,” she told Red. “Although people have died from his meddling, he never intended for people to die. He had already struck Leed’s Pl
anet from his resume.”
“He’s still scum! He put a price on my head,” Red complained.
“And he’ll go to Jhiordaan for the rest of his life, and that’s without any of the evidence I get from Ankh.”
The sergeant appeared with the first of those who had been working in the surface mine. Rivka asked one question. “What’s your job?” Miners had a far different answer in their minds than those dressed in black. She tapped them quickly, one by one. “Miner, Miner, Thug, Miner...”
The thugs were pulled away and secured. The miners were corralled separately. They would have to give statements, but they also had looks of relief on their faces. Their lives had been hell working under the bat-wielding overlords. When she reached the foreman, he was the only miner who looked guilty.
She asked him a different question. “What are you hiding?”
His mind instantly shot to the bodies of those who had been killed in accidents from rushing to get the ore out that were buried in the mine.
“This one.” Rivka pushed him toward an officer. “He’s the foreman who allowed all this to happen. There are bodies buried down there. At least four.” One of the officers grabbed him by the arm and yanked him hard enough to dislocate his shoulder. The foreman started to whimper.
They dragged him away and stuffed him into the van so they could return to the mine and he could point out where the bodies were buried.
Only one of the thugs had had enough ingenuity to lose the black and dress like a miner. He had no mental discipline, and was quickly outed and corralled with the other thugs.
“What do we do with his ship?” Red asked.
“I can confiscate it under my authority. If it was purchased using stolen funds, we’d have to find the rightful owner, but the funds weren’t stolen. They were justly paid by people trying to win elections. It looks like it’s the spoils of war.”
“Can we have it?” Lindy asked. “You know, as a wedding present?”
Jay jumped to Lindy to wrap her in a bear hug but was unintentionally repulsed by the ever-present railgun.
“I don’t see why not.” Rivka smiled and waved. “Come on, then. We have places to go and people to see.”
“We’ll rename it, of course,” Red told Lindy. “What do you think of Anoa’s Ark?”
“I like it!”
“No,” Rivka answered. “Maybe Pampered Princess?”
“No!” Red shot back.
“I like that one, too.”
“This could take a while,” Red admitted. “But look, we have a yacht!”
Federation Border Station 7
Rivka’s datapad buzzed as her mouth hovered over a steaming concoction that she was about to eat on a dare. Her face dropped, and she set the slice back among its fellows. With a sigh, she tapped the screen.
“Nice timing,” she told the familiar face. Grainger grinned back.
“It’s my turn to be a bent wire inside your spacesuit!” He started to laugh, and Rivka rolled her finger to get him to hurry up. Her eyes wandered back to her lunch, and her mouth watered at the aroma that wafted to her nose. He finished with a chortle and a snort. “I wanted to compliment you on your last two cases. The information Ankh found secreted within Margaret’s core guarantee that Mackestray will never again breathe free air. He is en route to Jhiordaan right now. The Federation was able to get one of their transport teams to Capstan. Sorry that took so long.
“And K’Twillis. What a nightmare! Plundering worlds for their resources! Usually, that is left to the locals or military conquerors. It chaps everyone’s ass when a third-party sneaks in and does it.”
“I think we burned some bridges on Capstan,” Rivka replied.
“Not in the least. The Chief Constable called High Chancellor Wyatt directly with his compliments regarding your work. His hands were tied in what they could do since probable cause is one of the main tenets of their society. Combined with the licensing requirements, their people exercise more freedom than most throughout the galaxy. We could learn a thing or two from them.”
“The Chief Constable?” Rivka’s lips twitched into a smile. “I felt like I was railroading him.”
“You received the support you needed, didn’t you?”
“Since you mention it, yes. We had a van and were shuttled around. We had a tactical team when we needed it, and they stored the perps when we captured them.”
“Sounds like you wanted for nothing. And now you have a yacht, too. Are you going to be like Terry Henry Walton and acquire your own fleet?”
“Terry Henry! We left him in that quagmire of Leed’s Planet. I haven’t called him since I left.” The unspoken question hung in the air—Rivka wanted validation from Grainger that it had been okay to summon the Bad Company.
Grainger saw the meatball served up on a silver platter. He frowned and shook his head. “General Reynolds is wondering how the Magistrates are going to pay for that. Probably the price of a private yacht and a corvette. You may have to walk to your next case. Grainger out.”
Rivka reached a finger toward the screen but was too slow. It turned black before she could stab Grainger’s image.
“I need to make a couple of calls.”
“What you need to do is eat,” Doctor Toofakre told her, patiently waiting for her to finish the call. His burger sat untouched until they could eat at the same time, although his fries were half gone. She couldn’t remember seeing him eat them. Rivka wondered if he had only ordered a child’s portion or if he’d been adept at eating them without being seen.
She chose the latter. The dentist looked far too casual.
The Magistrate removed her slice and started to eat, barely pausing for a breath during the first slice. Then she dug into a second.
“I miss hot food when we’re out there,” Rivka mumbled through a mouthful of TH’s Moonstokle Pie. The recipe had been picked up by most of the franchisees. “This blend of salty and sweet is to die for!”
Doctor Toofakre grimaced. “I like mine straight up. Meat and vegetables. Protein for life, food for the soul.”
“Are you huffing your own nitrous again?”
“Hey!” Tyler looked around quickly to make sure no one had heard. “Don’t even kid like that. I could lose my license.”
“You aren’t, are you?” She touched his hand. No subterfuge. The only thing he did when patients weren’t there was read, but he did it kicked back in the patient’s chair, reclined with his book overhead and voice-controlled. “I don’t know how you stay awake reading like that!”
“Hey! Stay out of my mind.” He leaned conspiratorially close. “What if you see my porn collection?”
He held out his hand and smiled evilly.
She leaned back. “You don’t have a porn collection.”
“I know. I’m boring. Startlingly dull in all ways, shapes, and forms. Maybe I can go on a case with you? You know, take a run on the wild side.”
Rivka turned serious. “People die on the wild side. Sometimes boring is the best fuel for the soul, but I’ll consider taking you. The next case looks like slave trafficking. The Federation isn’t real keen on slavery. We have a couple of leads that I’ll be looking into when the time is right, which usually means sooner rather than later.”
The End
Author Notes - Craig Martelle
September 1st, 2018
You are still reading! Thank you so much. It doesn’t get much better than that.
I think the Executioner series is my best-received series out of all that I’ve done. Thank you to you wonderful people for joining me. I really like this series, and enjoy writing it.
I wrote this next bit thinking about the way combat never leaves the warrior. They can go home, but they’ll never leave the battlefield. Those thoughts are always hiding in the back of our minds.
Brothers in Arms
A man stands in the crisp morning. A home in the country. A breeze rustling the leaves.
“HOLD THE LINE!” echoes in the ba
ttle of his mind.
A bird lands nearby, sings, and flies to the next tree.
“Damn you! Keep firing!” Kill to live.
A hesitant sun beyond the horizon, spreading its glow.
A scream of pain. The injured cries out.
A truck negotiating a hill in the distance. Give it some gas.
“Hold pressure here. Don’t give up on me.”
The ground fog brightens with the first rays of dawn. No, you don’t get to see the earth. Not yet.
“Help me up. I can shoot.” And it is done. More rounds fired. More men cry out.
The furnace starts and runs. The cold descends to make a last stand against the day’s warmth.
Day into night into day. Explosions of violence. Wince at the noise, but don’t trust the silence!
Something bounds through the woods. A squirrel filling its cheeks.
The battle ends as quickly as it started. “REPORT!” For the injured. For the ammunition.
A family sleeps within. A man stands without. No sleep for him. Someone has to watch.
For the ever-present enemy. For his brothers in arms.
My sister-in-law passed away earlier today. My brother is a wreck. She had a massive stroke at sixty-five, and that was it. I fly out tomorrow to join him and hopefully help him through the initial shock. It’s a challenging time, but the best thing for me is escaping into my science fiction worlds. Sometimes the real world is a bit harsh. With a good book, we can disappear for a brief time and live somewhere else, where the good guys win. I believe in karma.
And good guys who seek Justice.
Natalie Grey wants to include Bustamove in her next Barnabas story. Woohoo! You’ll get a little more insight into one of the other Magistrates.
I hope everyone enjoyed this story. It was fun to write in a way that I found most relaxing. James Caplan, Micky Cocker, and Kelly O’Donnell keep me on the straight and narrow with in-process reads and ideas, language smoothing, continuity, and overall readability. They are an amazing bunch who help make me and my stories better.
Judge, Jury, & Executioner Boxed Set Page 75