Breach of Peace

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Breach of Peace Page 13

by Daniel Gibbs


  "The labor," he said. "Look."

  Henry turned back to look down at the hold, where four individuals were bringing pallet jacks in. Two were Harr'al, one was H'taram, and the third was Tal'mayan, a species with skin tones in the various shades of blue. They had a vaguely humanoid shape, much like the Harr'al, although their ears were slanted downward, and their skin was as coarse as sandpaper. He wondered what Felix was getting at for a moment before his eyes settled on the choker necklaces that, upon closer inspection, were not necklaces, but collars with tags.

  Slaves. Vitorino's client was using slave labor to unload Henry's cargo.

  Revulsion twisted his stomach. For a brief moment, Henry considered throwing them off the ship, to hell with the consequences and Vitorino. He noted the twinkle in Felix's eye and knew he’d gladly enforce the order.

  But just as quickly, Henry rejected it. A treacherous voice in his head whispered, You've seen forced labor before, and you've seen it used by your clients. On Hestia and half a dozen worlds and space stations in the neutral systems where the powerful oppress the powerless and life, and labor, is cheap. There's nothing you can do to stop it. Acting out will only hurt the people you're responsible for.

  Such a calculation was a far cry from the James Henry, who had once been an idealistic CDF officer, but it fit the necessities that James Henry who was an independent trader dealt with.

  Felix noted the shift in Henry's look. "You're just going to let this happen?" he asked.

  "I can't fix the galaxy, Felix," Henry said softly. "Best I can do is protect this crew."

  "Right." Felix nodded. He let out a little sigh. Below, the Tal'mayan was getting yelled at for nearly knocking a crate over. He didn't know what was being said, exactly, but it didn't require much imagination to guess given the forlorn expression on the being's face.

  Henry stepped away quietly and continued up to the catwalk and the door to the upper deck.

  He found Tia in the rec room, going over something on a tablet. She glanced up. "I've got no contacts in Sektatsh, if that's what you're wondering," she said. "I checked."

  "I'm not surprised," Henry said. "Especially with that amnesty available now." He noted the dark look that came over Tia's expression and resolved not to bring it up again. "Well, I've got no contacts either. So how do we do this?"

  "The first thing we do is check the ISU chapter," Tia said. "They have a hostel and hotel in the Alien Quarter. Exclusive for union members, and your allegedly-former Coalition spy is supposed to be a member."

  "And it gives her a place to lay low that'll have some security," noted Henry. "Alright. I think I can remember my union ID."

  "Thirty-nine ninety-eight two fifty-four," Tia said cheerfully.

  Henry smiled at her. "You would remember it, wouldn't you?"

  "You joined the Union to avoid problems. I joined because I genuinely believe in supporting my fraternal comrades of the spaceways," Tia replied, cheer still in her tone. A slightly somber look came to her. "You should consider being more serious about it, Jim. You've suffered from corporate moneygrubbing as much as any other spacer. More than most, really. The ISU is a brotherhood for people like us."

  "There's only one brotherhood I gave my loyalty to, Tia, and that was the Coalition Defense Force," he replied, pain in his voice. "Gave 'em heart and soul."

  Tia lowered her eyes. "And they betrayed you in the end."

  "Yeah. So pardon me if I'm not in a hurry to join another brotherhood. Either way, I'll go check my dues paperwork for my number, then we'll go rent a vehicle." Henry turned to the door. "The sooner we get to this lady, the sooner we get off-world, and I've already had enough of Harron."

  18

  Another day of waiting loomed ahead for Miri Gaon. Another day of checking news sites on the commlink to see if anything else came up about the Kensington Star or other attacks on ships, and to ponder how she would deal with the investigation. Karla Lupa's legend was already undermined by the measures she took to get away. Okon would put her record under a microscope. A new legend looked increasingly necessary. Along with a change of scenery. She could find passage on a liner or transport leaving Trifid Nebula for Omega Nebula, or something like that. Maybe she would even brave Coalition space itself.

  With nothing left for the moment, she started checking schedules. The spaceport already had Shadow Wolf listed as landed. But there was no sign yet of the Astra Mater, the P&Y ship Okon said was on the way to Harron for her. New Cornwall being further away from Harron would account for that, of course, at least in part. But she darkly wondered if the League might be planning on seizing the ship. Especially if they knew its purpose.

  I should not fret over things I cannot influence., She stared at the list of arrivals still showing on her screen. The company ship is my primary unless I want to ruin my credibility. I need to show patience. I'm good at patience.

  Kepper was actually watching his monitors when Vasily came home this time. He grinned at his luck and the paying off of his patience. Given what Li said, he had to act now if he was going to get the mark. An annoying necessity, since it meant he didn't have time to plan things fully, but that was how life was.

  A quick trip down a stairwell brought Kepper to the ground floor. He left his building and went out into the avenue. Traffic was heavy, wheeled, and the occasional anti-grav or helicar vehicle filling the streets, so he had to be agile in weaving through it, taking advantage of the frequent stops as he did. He entered Vasily's building behaving as if he had every right to be there, which was the usual approach one took to keep anyone from questioning your arrival. No one said anything to him as he rounded a corner and entered a stairwell. He went up the required number of stairs and found his way to his mark’s room. The door was locked. He knocked.

  The door opened a crack and a cautious Harr'al eye showed. "What you want?" asked the figure in broken English.

  "I am from Old-Rite Church," Kepper answered, effecting a Russian accent that his old accent coach would have appreciated. "They sent me to warn you. Nasty people after woman you help."

  Vasily seemed to consider the warning for a moment. There was little trust in that alien eye. Kepper glanced around as if nervous, helping him sell the role while he made a genuine check for potential interlopers. "Make sign of cross."

  Kepper did, using three fingers to gesture at his forehead first and then his right and left shoulders. Vasily's eye twitched. He knew then he'd done it wrong.

  Oh well. He could never keep straight how the damn churches did their silly gesture anyway.

  Just as Vasily tried to slam the door, Kepper brought his foot up and kicked at it, hard. Metal snapped, and the door flew all the way open, hitting the Harr'al resident as it did and sending him flying backward. He stomped in and drew the pistol from the small of his back. Vasily made a little panicked noise before a pulse blast hit him square in the chest. It was a weak shot that hurt more than it wounded, but the jolt it delivered had the side-effect of seizing the alien’s body up, stunning him. Kepper reached back and closed the door until it was cracked, waiting for the sounds of an alarm being raised. When there were none, he finished shutting it before turning back to his stunned quarry and reached for the tie straps in his jacket pocket.

  By the time he had Vasily's wrists and ankles secure, the Harr'al was regaining the ability to speak. "You slaver?" he asked fearfully. It was the tone of a former slave terrified of being returned to that state, and Kepper felt a little surge of pleasure from causing it. He fought the urge down. "What you want?"

  "I want your spacer friend," Kepper replied. "Cooperate, or I'll head straight to the Trader Quarter with you and find the most ruthless, vicious slave-driver looking for more laborers and sell you to him. Understand?"

  "Understand," was the scared reply.

  "Good." Kepper smiled thinly at him. He tilted his head to the apartment commlink. "I'd like you to call her."

  For a moment, he thought the Harr'al would resist, but slowl
y, Vasily went over to his commlink and tapped at it. After several moments, a Hebrew-accented voice came over the line. "Yes, Vasily?"

  "Me have more food for you. From Father Nikolai," Vasily said.

  "Alright. Bring it by."

  Kepper frowned, but only for a moment. Given the League wanted her for something, and wanted her bad, he was suspecting she wasn't just a spacer but a careful operator of some sort. After all, the ISU hostel was an environment where she could retain some control over access, which was already limited. A smart move, especially if she knew she was being hunted.

  "Will give message when I there." Vasily ended the call and gave a forlorn, worried look to Kepper. "Why you hurt nice lady?"

  An urge came, nearly unstoppable, to smash the alien's rubbery, inhuman face in. Kepper's control slammed down. The creature wasn't worth it, so there would be no enjoyment. "You've got a helicar," he said, making it clear it wasn't a question. "Give me the access code."

  His captive made a mewling sound but ultimately obeyed. Kepper decided to put off dealing with the Harr'al for the moment and stuffed him away in a closet. He could come back and deal with Vasily when he was done with the target.

  When the call from Vasily ended, Miri went back to checking on her messages, unable to banish a growing uncertain dread building within her. She'd received no further messages from P&Y on her incoming ride. While that alone wasn't surprising, some of the questions coming from Okon were quite impertinent. She could sense the corporate security officer's suspicions about her. She couldn't even entirely blame Okon for them, but right now, they were dangerous for Miri, and indeed for everyone else. Anything that gave the League cover for their attacks could help them prevail in the end. And she didn't need to know precisely what their plan was to realize it was not for the best.

  And now… now Vasily called about food. Unprompted. Indeed, she needed none for at least several more days. Why would he get her more so soon? Maybe Father Nikolai had extra, and it might be perishable? The matter stewed in her mind. You have to be careful about that paranoia, Miri.

  It was a problem for ex-operatives like her, especially if you knew for sure someone was still out to get you. You started to see threats everywhere, and reacting to it could expose you as much as people learning your past. Karla Lupa was already losing viability as a legend, but she needed to keep the pretense up a little longer. She would have to be cautious and keep her mind open.

  The rented helicar glided into the approved transit lanes that weaved through the taller buildings of Sektatsh. In the driver's seat, Cera glanced over to whether Henry and Tia were looking out at the sights. "Not much to speak of," she said. "Reminds me of Dunbarton. Just add slaves and slavers, the bastards."

  "Not much we can do about it," Henry said. "Just keep your eye on the skylane." While Cera did just that, Henry glanced around at Sektatsh and considered how many of the people below were in the same circumstances as those poor workers who were still unloading the last of the cargo. Fifteen years ago, Henry would have relished the chance to visit this planet with the fleet and a few divisions of Marines to end Harr'al slavery once and for all. But now, all he felt was a familiar sense of disappointment in an unjust galaxy. It reinforced his conviction that if the God he once believed in did exist, He turned his back on His flawed, disappointing creations long ago. Henry couldn't blame Him for such given his own sense of disappointment.

  "Shouldn't let it get to me," he muttered under his breath. It's the way the world works. All I can do is look out for the people I'm responsible for.

  "Looks like we've made it to the Alien Quarter," Tia said, noting the change in the layout and design of the buildings. "Cera, you should be able to see the ISU center soon."

  "Right." Cera kept an eye on the buildings ahead while checking the helicar's traffic control systems that kept her in the approved flight paths. The system flagged her destination as approaching and directed her to a landing course to bring the helicar to street level.

  The streets of the Alien Quarter were clean, mostly, and probably the safest in the city. Armed beings of several species walked predictable patrol patterns. "They look more like an occupying army than cops," Henry noted.

  "I doubt they're cops," said Tia. "Probably a citizen militia to keep slavers out."

  Cera turned the helicar down one road and then another before they were at the entrance to the ISU center. Henry noted the emblem of the Union was displayed proudly above the door. He saw Tia's little smile upon seeing it. "Always good to see a Spacer Union buildin'," Cera said. "Hostel's not bad, and the Union helped me find my last berth before you took me on."

  "Glad to know they're worth it. Pull us up and find a place to wait for us, I don't know how long we'll be."

  "Right, sir."

  The helicar moved into the drop-off lane in front of the entrance. Henry and Tia stepped down from the helicar, feeling the repeated pulsing ripple of displaced air against their ankles and feet from the helicar's anti-grav engines being so close to the ground. The effect dissipated after the first steps to the door. "You've never been in one of these, have you?" Tia asked.

  "I can't say I have," he said.

  "That's the luxury of having your own ship. Not all spacers have a regular billet. They need somewhere to stay between jobs." Tia led him through the door. In one direction was a rec-room, another led to other places, and a third to the lobby counter. "Looks like they added a hotel unit." Tia shook her head. "Catering to the antisocial types. Or people like Felix, hardcore individualist types."

  "Because they offer hotel rooms?"

  "Hotel rooms are private, individual," Tia pointed out. "Hostels are communal. Spacers live, cook, eat, and sleep together."

  "Like a crew."

  "Right. Works for building solidarity."

  "But annoying as hell if you want some alone time. That's not an individualist talking; it's the part of me that remembers barracks living when I was called up," Henry said.

  Tia nodded in acknowledgment and said nothing more of the subject. She only spoke up when they arrived at the lobby desk. "Thirty-nine ninety-eight two fifty-four," she said to the young Asian man at the counter. He was bald, with star pattern tattoos joined by Japanese kanji characters.

  "Four Zero Two Six Six Nine Eight," Henry added.

  The desk attendant entered the numbers. "Tia… Nig-u-yen? James Henry. Welcome."

  "Nguyen," Tia corrected, pronouncing it "Nwen."

  "I'm sorry. What can I help you with?" he asked.

  "We're here to check up on a fellow spacer," Tia said. "Karla Lupa."

  The concierge's eyes widened slightly at the name. "The Kensington Star survivor?" he asked. "I'm afraid I can't help you there. I've got orders."

  "I'm sure you do," Henry said. "We don't want to know where she is exactly, just that she's safe, and for you to give her a message."

  After several moments of consideration, he nodded. "Alright. The message?"

  "Tell her that I've been hired to give her a ride out of Harron if she needs it. She's got a mutual acquaintance that contracted to me to ensure her safe departure."

  The concierge nodded. "I'll send the message off." As he spoke, his hands were moving behind the desk, presumably typing the message, and he gave them wary looks, as if expecting them to try and glance over the counter to watch what he was doing.

  "We're not here to hurt her," Tia insisted. "Please, trust me on that as a fellow spacer."

  "With all the ships disappearing… we can't be too careful, you know?" was the apologetic reply. "You can wait if you want."

  Henry nodded. "Fine by me." He turned away from the desk and went for the lobby, where he found a chair facing the HV. Someone else had an episode of what he guessed was The War Patrol on. When Tia took a seat beside him, he said, "I wouldn't be surprised if she tells us to go away."

  "If she's not sure who to trust, she might," Tia agreed. "Although wouldn't al-Lahim tell her about us?"

  "He wou
ld have, but that doesn't mean she'll trust us. We don't even know how well she gets on with him, after all." Henry rested his hands on his knees. "Let's give it a while. If we don't hear back, I'll contact al-Lahim." Left unsaid, for obvious reasons, was whether or not he'd yet to figure out how to get Miri to Lusitania and balance the conflicting desires of their various employers. That could wait until they had Miri Gaon safely in hand.

  Had Miri known the call from the concierge was coming, she might not have immediately reacted to the message she received just as Henry and Tia entered the ISU building. It was from Vasily's link, letting her know he was waiting outside.

  Not an audio call. A text message.

  Every instinct as an operative told Miri to stay away. To back off. Whether innocent or not, it was a bit too suspicious. She should stay away, keep her bugout pack ready, and wait for confirmation of a trip off-world.

  What kept her from doing this was genuine worry for Vasily. If this was a trap, it meant he was being held by someone targeting her. Whatever her instincts said, she was long-past tired of people dying for her sake, or her missions.

  After checking to ensure her firearms were all in place on her person, Miri left her room and headed downstairs. She went out the side entrance to avoid going through the lobby and possible surveillance. Once on the street, it was a quick trip over to the parking lot further down, where she knew Vasily would be waiting to meet her if it was him. The lot was nestled between two of the larger buildings and stretched across two blocks’ worth of adjacent buildings. A protective fence limited entrance and exit through lanes that would scan vehicles, allowing the lot owners to charge vehicle owners remotely. A smaller entrance allowed for foot traffic to enter and exit.

  It was convenient, but the number of people coming through at this time was slow and combined with the limited access, it was a decent ambush spot.

 

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