"What's this for?" Martel asked.
"Just hold on to it for a while," Crawley growled, his breath reeking of cigarette smoke.
With Martel close behind, Crawley went inside and climbed the stairs until they came out onto the fourth floor. The hallways were empty except for rodents and trash left behind by squatters. When they reached one of the apartments, Crawley unlocked the door and walked in. When Martel followed, he saw a man cuffed to a metal chair in the otherwise empty room. The man’s head hung as if sleeping.
Martel recognized the uniform and the badge. His name tag read Ledetchko.
"He's a cop," Martel said.
Crawley flashed a sarcastic grin. "Nothing gets by you, kid."
The senior detective slapped the man awake.
"Let me go," Ledetchko moaned.
"I'd love to," Crawley replied, "but we have some unfinished business."
"I already said no," the officer told him.
"Yeah, but I'm giving you a second chance," Crawley said. "I've got a big heart. The doctor says it's because of the drinkin', but I'd like to think it's because I'm a reasonable man."
Crawley removed the cuffs. As the policeman raised his head, Martel saw his face was swollen and bruised.
"This is my partner, Martel," Crawley said.
"Is he as dirty as you?" Ledetchko asked, which earned him a quick slap from the senior detective.
"Don't be rude," Crawley said. "Martel brought you a gift..."
Martel knew what came next. He took the credit stick out of his pocket and brought it over to the chair. The officer scowled at him.
"Big G would like you to accept this offering of his gratitude," Crawley told the officer. "Consider it your reward for being part of something greater than yourself."
Martel stood in front of the officer, the credit stick no bigger than a thumb drive.
"No," Ledetchko said. "I told you, I'm not taking any bribes!"
"Since you're new to the department," Crawley said, "I'll explain how things work. You see, a system like ours is based on trust. Without trust, the system breaks down. If we all take the bribe, we know each of us has a vested interest in watching each other's backs. United we stand, divided we fall."
"Screw you, Crawley!" the officer shouted.
The senior detective put his hands on Ledetchko's face, pressing the officer's cheeks together.
"We can't have a rookie like you mucking things up by staying clean,” Crawley continued. "If you don't take the bribe, we can't trust you and the system breaks down. That's no good for anybody."
Releasing his hold on the officer, Crawley took out a pistol. Just by looking at it, Martel could tell it was a ghost gun, a 3D-printed pistol without markings and nearly impossible to trace.
"Are you going to shoot me?" Ledetchko asked.
"No," Crawley replied, offering the weapon to Martel. "He is."
Martel recoiled, taking a step away from his partner's outstretched hand.
"Crawley..." he said.
"In for a penny, in for a pound," his partner said. "It has to be done by somebody, so why not you?"
"I..." Martel stammered.
"Come on now," Crawley replied, his voice growing firmer. "It's about trust. How can I trust a man who won't back up his partner?"
Putting away the credit stick, Martel took the ghost gun from his partner.
"You don't have to do this," Ledetchko said. "I've heard about you, Martel. I know you're not like Crawley. If you do this, you'll be no better than him."
"Go ahead," Crawley told Martel. "Do what's right."
Martel's finger curled around the trigger, the grip of the handle pressed against Martel's skin.
"I have a family," Ledetchko said, his voice starting to quiver.
Martel looked pleadingly at his partner, but Crawley's eyes stared back with nothing but cruelty.
"Do it," Crawley said.
Martel fired three shots into the officer's chest. Ledetchko's body convulsed before going limp, his head hanging down like it was when they first entered the room.
The pistol, its molecular structure activated by the heat of being fired, began to dissolve in Martel's hand. Within moments, the gun had transformed into granules, pouring through Martel's fingers like sand.
Munge had been using a lint roller unsuccessfully when a woman walked into the bar asking for help. Munge attempted to think of an accompanying joke, but was just as unsuccessful as the lint roller.
"Who are you?" Red asked from behind the bar.
"I'm Lady Candice Woodwick," the woman said. "I'm afraid Detective Martel is in terrible danger and his secretary told me someone here might be able to help."
"You're that society dame that Martel went to meet," Red replied, crossing his meaty arms. "I knew it was a trap..."
"I'm sorry," Candy said. "It was all a big mistake, but I'm hoping it's not too late."
"Do you know where he is?" Red asked.
"I think so," she replied.
Munge laid the lint roller on the bar and stood up from his stool, towering over the young woman.
"Munge help," he said.
After getting the address from Candy, Munge arrived shortly after sunset at the mansion where Martel was allegedly being held. The workers had gone home for the day and the grounds were quiet except for the occasional guard who Munge pummeled into unconsciousness. In the twilight, the glass dome of the hothouse glowed like a diamond. Taking a length of pipe from one of the scaffolds, Munge smashed through the dome's shell and came face to face with the frog-like creature Candy had called Jollux.
"Where Martel?" Munge demanded, holding the pipe menacingly in his hand.
Jollux raised his spindly arms, his giant eyes like black disks. "I've no idea what you mean!"
A butler with the physique of a bodybuilder rushed into the hothouse brandishing a large pistol. Munge had seen the gun before.
"Why you have Maxwell?" he asked.
"Put the pipe down!" the butler replied.
"Okay," Munge said, but instead of dropping the pipe, he flung it across the room, striking the butler in the arm. Maxwell fell to the floor with a heavy thud.
Munge descended on the butler with surprising speed, shoving him like a doll into some orchids. Jollux let out a cry as if someone had landed on his children.
Taking the pistol from the ground, Munge pointed the weapon at the loan shark.
"Munge ask again," he said. "Where Martel?"
Chapter Fourteen
Several weeks ago, Lady Candice was standing in the blustery, arctic wind. She had never been to a hypersled race before, let alone at the south pole of the planet Aldorus, but she had dressed warmly in a pink down coat and leather gloves.
With the VIP pass that her boyfriend, Lord Devlin Maycare, had given her, Candy made her way down to the staging area where the hypersleds were kept just before being moved onto the track. Now shielded from the wind, Candy could smell the rocket fuel that permeated the air.
"Candy!" a deep, manly voice shouted. "Over here!"
Pulling down her hood, Candy saw Maycare waving. He wore a blue racing suit with a silver stripe running down the side. Candy waved back and made her way through the other track personnel until she found herself in Maycare's arms.
I hope he doesn't get oil on my new coat! she thought.
"You made it!" Maycare said, relaxing his hug.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world!" she replied. "It's so exciting!"
Maycare grinned broadly and gestured toward the sled beside him.
"Let me introduce you to the Number 9," he said.
To Candy's untrained eye, the sled was little more than a canopy with rockets, all bolted precariously to skis.
"Is it safe?" she asked.
"More or less," Maycare replied.
"Well," Candy replied, "I assume you know what you're doing."
From the surrounding crowd, a robot appeared with a datapad tucked under his arm.
"
You remember my butlerbot, Benson?" Maycare asked.
"Yes, of course," Candy said. "How are you, Benson?"
"Very well, Lady Candice," the robot replied. "I was wondering if I could borrow Lord Maycare for a moment?"
"What do you need?" Maycare asked.
"I wanted to give you my report on Lord Grayson's sled, sir," Benson said, holding out the datapad.
Maycare shook his fist. "My nemesis!"
"Indeed, sir," Benson replied drolly.
"Sorry, my dear," Maycare told Candy. "It won't be a minute..."
Her eyelashes fluttering, Candy smiled. "Of course, darling."
While Maycare and his butlerbot consulted, engulfed by the ebb and flow of the crowd, Candy drew closer to the Number 9, her hands in her coat pockets. She felt her heart pounding as she remembered what Jollux had told her.
In his hothouse, the loan shark had held a small box in his bony fingers.
"What's this?" Candy had asked.
"Just a device," Jollux replied. "Consider it a little present for Lord Maycare."
"What does it do?" Candy said, taking the box.
"Hopefully, it will explode."
Candy shrank back before Jollux calmed her.
"Don't worry, Lady Candice," he said. "Just a little boom, that's all. Just enough to damage the engine around it."
"What engine?" Candy replied, staring at the box. "What in the heavens are you talking about?"
Jollux's giant eyes blinked slowly.
"I've backed several bets of late concerning a hypersled race occurring this weekend," he said. "The prevailing wisdom thinks your boyfriend, Lord Maycare, will win. This will make sure he doesn't, and make several people indebted to me in the process."
"Like me?" Candy asked.
"Indeed," Jollux replied, "and if you wish me to forgive some of your debts, you'll do what I say."
Standing beside the blue and silver Number 9, Candy held the box in her hands. She glanced as casually as possible to the right and left, but the other racers and crews were preoccupied with their own business rather than paying attention to her. Even Maycare and Benson were engrossed in conversation, ignoring Candy entirely.
Taking the opportunity, she slipped the box into a nest of wires along the main body of the sled's rocket engine. When she felt a magnet on the box attach to something, she pulled her hand away.
Jollux said Devlin will eject when it explodes, Candy told herself. I'm sure he'll be alright...
Maycare returned and gave her another hug.
"Are you ready?" he asked, releasing her again.
Candy smiled back, but secretly wanted to cry.
Although it was technically Benson's job, Henry brought a glass of water for Lady Candice. She was standing watch over Thomas Martel as he lay in a coma in one of the bedrooms on the Maycare estate. A heart monitor and other medical devices stood beside the bed like totems while Martel slept, and a nursebot remained nearby, rented by Maycare from YouSickWeFix Medical Supplies and Services.
Henry took the water over to the chair where Candy sat.
"Oh, thank you, Henry," she said. "Thank you for thinking of me."
Henry's cheeks flushed red. "It's no trouble! How is Mister Martel?"
"There's no change, I'm afraid," she remarked, her eyes turning back on Martel.
"Shouldn't he be in a hospital or something?" Henry asked.
"This is safer," Candy replied. "Who knows who else might try to kill him!"
Henry, adjusting his feet awkwardly, spied the brushed chrome of Maxwell on the nightstand. He took a step toward it.
"Don't touch that," Doric's voice said sternly from the doorway.
Henry stopped.
"I wasn't—" he began.
"Just don't," Doric said, coming into the room.
"Hello, Jessica dear," Candy said, her voice sweet in contrast. "Checking up on our patient?"
"Just keeping an eye on this one," she replied, nodding toward Henry.
"I thought Candy might be thirsty," he said innocently.
"Uh huh," Doric replied.
"Candy said Martel hasn't changed," he went on.
"Well, he's in a coma," Doric said.
"He might come out of it," Henry said.
Doric looked doubtfully at the detective's near-lifeless body.
"I suppose," she said. "Nobody knows much about Lotus."
Someone else appeared in the doorway. This time it was Benson the butlerbot, carrying a small box.
"What is it?" Doric asked.
"A package was just delivered," the robot replied. "It's addressed to Detective Martel."
Candy's eyes widened in alarm. "Who knows he's even here?"
"It also came with this note," Benson said, handing both to Doric. She read the note aloud.
"For Martel," she said, "from a friend."
"What if it's a bomb?" Henry remarked.
"I already scanned the package," Benson replied. "There's no evidence of an explosive but there is indeed a device inside. Would you like me to open it instead?"
"That won't be necessary," Doric said, breaking the seal of tape and pulling the cardboard flaps open.
Henry winced but, noticing nothing had exploded, immediately came closer to peer inside the box. Among some packing peanuts was an object, almost like a pistol but with a short nozzle instead of a barrel, made from white plastic.
"A gun?" he asked.
"It's a hypo-injector," Doric said, removing it from the box. She studied the side of the handle where an indicator showed the number 1. "But it only has one dose..."
"A dose of what?" Candy asked.
"I've no idea," Doric replied.
"We could take it to a lab," Henry suggested.
Doric nodded. "But that might use up the only dose."
"I'm afraid there wasn’t a return address," Benson added. "Or any other indicator of who might have sent it."
"The note says it's for Detective Martel," Candy said. "I think we should give it to him."
"Sounds risky," Doric said. "Not that he has much to lose..."
"I think we should do what Candy says," Henry said.
Doric gave her assistant a dark look. "Of course you do."
Candy got up and, taking the injector from Doric, brought it over to the bed.
"If it's the wrong thing to do," she said, "I'll be the one responsible. You can just add it to my list."
She pressed the nozzle against Martel's arm and pulled the injector's trigger. While they waited to see what would happen next, Henry had a thought.
"You have a list?" he asked.
A few days had passed since the last vote of the Imperial Conclave. Lady Veber had used that time to record the testimony of Magnus Black and run a paternity test on Jack Groen, all of which was kept secret from the other members of the Five Families. Confident that what Magnus had said was true, Lady Veber put Jack under her own personal protection, allowing the assassin to depart.
Lady Veber watched while the dark form of the Starling lifted from the landing pad and rose steadily through the azure sky. Truth be told, she was eager to see him go. Although Magnus had been the one who killed Lord Tagus II, Lady Veber was the one who had hired him, and she did not need Magnus as a constant reminder of her sins.
With Magnus gone, Lady Veber went looking for Jack and found him down on the beach, his pants rolled up and his feet wading in the surf. She approached him across the hot sand, her light, blue dress twirling in the wind.
"Mister Black just left," she said. "Didn't you want to say goodbye?"
"Not really," Jack replied. "He's not exactly a friend."
"I suppose not," Lady Veber said. "Deep down inside, I think he'd rather kill us all..."
Jack flashed a boyish grin. "Only if someone was paying him."
"On the other hand," she added, "I think your half-brother Rupert would do it for free."
"It's strange to think I have a brother," Jack remarked.
"Well, I'd l
ower my expectations if I were you."
Jack nodded.
"I saw him in the news while I was growing up," he said. "I know the things he's done."
"The media only tells what they know," Lady Veber replied. "There's a great many things they know nothing about."
Jack splashed his feet in the water.
"You know I've never been on another planet before," he said.
"Really?"
"Actually," he corrected himself, "I was on my parent's planet Galanis when I was a baby. The one where they died..."
"Perhaps it's best you don't remember," Lady Veber replied.
"I guess so."
"You know I had a son once," she went on. "He used to play on this beach when he was a boy."
"What was he like?" Jack asked.
"A lot like his father," she replied. "I miss them..."
Jack watched the ripples around his feet. "I'm sorry."
"The past is gone," Lady Veber said, "even if it revisits us from time to time."
From the estate, two figures appeared, each wearing swimming attire. Lady Olivia Montros was dressed in a red one-piece while Lord Vincent Groen wore trunks and had a beach ball under one arm and a towel draped over his shoulder. Seeing the others, Vincent shouted across the beach, "A little overdressed, don't you think?"
Jack and Lady Veber exchanged looks and laughed.
"Come over here!" Lady Veber shouted back. "I want you to meet someone!"
When Martel woke up, he was a lot less dead than he had been expecting. Seeing the crowd of people around his bed was also a surprise. Lady Candice, Jessica Doric, Henry Riff, and the butlerbot were all staring at him expectantly. A nursebot, however, stayed largely indifferent behind them.
"Am I late to the party?" he said.
"You've been in a coma," Doric replied.
Martel became slowly aware of the IV running from the back of his hand and the steady rhythm of a heart monitor beeping nearby. It wasn't the first time he had been in a hospital bed, but this was by far the nicest hospital he had ever seen.
"Where am I?" he asked.
"You're the guest of Lord Maycare at his estate," Benson said. "Please make yourself at home."
"It looks like I already have," Martel replied.
The Dreams of Andromeda (The Imperium Chronicles Book 4) Page 16
