Heat Seeker

by Scot C Morgan

  Dewey looked at her a moment, then took hold of the cage by the sides. "Okay. I'll wait outside." He glanced at the cage and then back to Tiffin. "Who knows if it'll really stay asleep as long as the bartender said."

  Tiffin remained standing with her arms crossed, but relaxed her face. Dewey smiled briefly before standing, lifting the cage, and leaving the bar out the front door.

  Tiffin sat back down as she watched Dewey leave.

  He didn't deserve that.

  She looked down to her vest pocket. "Did he?" She took a deep breath and let it out. As she nudged her mug of cider, she gently pressed her upper teeth against her rolled-in lower lip. From the cover of the alcove, she watched the customers and servers in the rest of the bar. She was relieved none of them seemed to have noticed the exchange she and Dewey had. The place was just as busy as before. Twenty conversations going on across as many tables. She was relieved to not be the focus of their attention. Not like with Dewey. She pressed her lips together, filling her mouth and rounding out her cheeks before blowing a short audible puff. When he's not ignoring me.

  She took a sip of her drink.

  She was staring at the flecks of spice slowly drifting on the surface of her cider when a loud bump against the spindle-topped partition wall behind her jolted her to attention.

  She spun to the side in her chair to see what hit the wall.

  Her heart skipped a beat as she sucked in a mix of air and cider. She coughed from a few drops of cider which went down her windpipe.

  "Jake!" She coughed again, clearing the last drip from the back edge of her throat.

  Only one of the three men walking with Jake glanced in her direction. They were shoulder-to-shoulder with Jake, arms holding his above the elbows—the largest man on one side, the other two doubling up to carry Jake's weight on the side nearest Tiffin.

  Jake's eyes were shut. His head dipped and jostled as the men hoisted him forward, dragging his feet awkwardly.

  "Jake!" Tiffin stood and fumbled through her pack to pull the blaster, but it wasn't there. In the heat of the moment, she'd forgotten Jake took it from her after she'd shot the man during the first attack on Jake.

  The thug closest to her swung his right arm, backhanding her on the side of her face. The blow knocked Tiffin over the seat behind her. She hit the back of her head against the wall as she went down, landing hard on the floor between her seat and the wall. The pain washed over her and her head throbbed. It was all she could do to mumble Jake's name once more as she lifted her head a few inches to catch a glimpse of the three men carrying him to the exit. A wave of fear swept over her as she saw them drag him out the door.

  Chapter 16

  Tiffin didn't know how long she was unconscious before one of the servers in the bar found her and helped her off the floor. The olive-skinned woman who came to her aid told her she had been lying there less than a minute. The woman said she'd seen the incident. She said she was ashamed at not trying to help and disgusted that none of the men in the place lifted a finger either. "Typical of this place," she said, turning her head briefly to spit on the floor.

  In spite of the young woman coming to her aid, Tiffin got no help from anyone else in the bar when she explained to them what she saw happen to Jake. She knew she couldn't waste any more time pleading with those in the crowd nearest her. She winced as she gave a moment's attention to her splitting headache before breathing out sharply and shaking her head slightly.

  Dewey. Where'd he go?

  She grabbed her pack and rushed to the exit, pushing off a couple of chairs with one hand as she passed them, keeping her slowly recovering balance. She gave little notice to the heavyset man lingering by the front door, except to nudge him in his large belly as she rounded him to get to the exit.

  "Huh?" The man looked down at her, and lifted his arm at the same time, protecting the drink he was holding.

  Tiffin clutched the handle to the door and flung it open. She hoped to see Jake and Dewey right outside, but her quick scan of everyone in the street told her she was too late. Her breath fell out of her and the pain at the back of her head radiated through to her eyes. She braced herself against the doorjamb, then she saw Dewey off to the side.

  He was sprawled on the dirt, one leg straight, the other bent awkwardly. His arms stretched out to his sides. A dark blue splotch covered the left side of his face from his temple to his chin. His eyes were shut. His clothes looked like he'd been knocked around on the ground before he'd settled into the pose he now had.

  "Dewey!" Tiffin hurried the ten steps over to him, dropping to her knees as she came to his side. She reached for his face, but decided not to touch it because of the injury there. She had a sensation of something boiling inside her, a swell of emotion—fear, anger, panic, desperation. She glanced around quickly, looking for someone to pull into the situation to help her. No one was nearby. Those walking in the street seemed oblivious to her and Dewey—or were ignoring them, she thought.

  "Dewey," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder and giving him a gentle shake. She felt Squeakers turning around inside her vest pocket. He was in a panic too, she realized, but left the thought in an instant as she gave Dewey another gentle shake and leaned closer to him. "Dewey, wake up." She looked at his chest and held her breath for a few seconds, to keep as still and quiet as she could. She exhaled in relief as she saw his chest move, up then down, and again.

  "Dewey, wake up." She shook his shoulder harder.

  He groaned. His cheeks scrunched and his eyes cracked open.

  "They took Jake," she said. She scanned the street again, quickly checking each of the passers-by. No sign of Jake or the men who took him. A man stepped out of the bar behind her. She looked up at his scarred, soiled face. He paused and stared at her, but said nothing, then continued on his way.

  Tiffin grabbed a handful of dirt from the ground and threw it into the back of the man as he walked away. It hit his black jacket and bounced off. The man didn't flinch. She wanted to make him stop, but knew there was no use in trying.

  Dewey moved his arms inward and turned a little, pushing himself up into a half-sitting position. "What?" he said.

  Tiffin pulled on Dewey's left arm, in an attempt to get him to stand. "Those men, they took Jake."

  Dewey sat up the rest of the way. She let go of him. He raised his hand to the bruised side of his face, touching it gently. He winced and quickly withdrew his hand. "Ahh!"

  "We have to stop them," Tiffin said, grabbing his wrist near his face and pulling him again.

  "Stop them?" he said, looking at her with apparent disbelief. "How do you think this happened to me?" He glanced down at himself, then looked at her.

  "I know," Tiffin said. "But nobody will help us. I've tried. We don't have much time. Did you see which way they took him?"

  "No." Dewey gingerly stood up with Tiffin's help. "I tried to do something, but…"

  Tiffin watched Dewey wince and reach for the side of his head again. She didn't like seeing him in pain and felt guilty for rushing him to go after Jake, but she knew she didn't have a choice. "It's not your fault," she said. "They knocked me down too."

  Dewey leaned his head a little closer to her, as if looking her over for injuries. "Are you alright?"

  "Yeah," she said. "Better than you, anyway."

  Dewey managed a smile.

  "At least we don't have to deal with that thing," Tiffin said, nodding toward the Gefreety's cage on the ground a few feet from Dewey.

  The cage door was open, and she could see the creature was no longer inside the wire crate. Faint tracks in front of the cage made it clear the creature had scampered off after shuffling around for a moment, but the tracks disappeared after several feet. A burst of sandy wind made it clear to Tiffin how the tracks had vanished so quickly.

  Dewey turned around to see the empty cage. "Oh, that's no good." He darted his eyes around.

  "Forget it," Tiffin said. "Jake. We need to find him."

  "
What are we supposed to do?" Dewey asked.

  Tiffin's eyes widened. She was looking beyond Dewey's shoulder. She touched her hand to his upper arm as she passed him. He turned toward her as she did. After walking a few steps, she knelt down, retrieving from the dirt the blaster Jake had taken from her inside the bar. She stood, but still faced away from Dewey. "Can you move?" she said.

  "Yes."

  "Good."

  She turned around, holding it in front of her. The swirl in her stomach died down. The fear, anger, panic, and desperation were gone. She had a new feeling in their place—deadly serious.

  "We're going to save Jake," she said, sounding like she had no doubt they'd be successful.

  Dewey exhaled audibly. "Right. They must've knocked it loose when they dragged him away."

  Tiffin unzipped the large cargo pocket on her right leg and stuck the blaster in it, the handle jutting out a little.

  "And," Dewey said.

  "And what?"

  Dewey looked a few feet away to something on the ground.

  Tiffin turned to see what it was. "His comm belt."

  Dewey walked over to it and picked it up. "We should let her know what's going on."

  Tiffin nodded. Her face looked somber. "She's going to be pretty upset, but maybe she can help us find him."

  Dewey studied the comm belt for a few seconds, there were a few buttons and a sliding switch which evidently locked the buttons. He moved it to the release position and pressed one of the buttons.

  A second later Sarah's voice came through the speaker on the device. "Hi, Jake. Miss me?"

  "Uh, this is Dewey."

  Tiffin chuckled faintly, but quickly returned to the seriousness the situation demanded, immediately feeling guilty for allowing herself to slip into a moment of levity in the midst of what they were facing.

  "Oh, hello Dewey," Sarah said. "Where's Jake?"

  Tiffin already heard the worry in Sarah's voice. She glanced at Dewey who was hesitating. She didn't want to waste any time sugar coating things. "We need your help, Sarah. Jake's in trouble."

  "Oh, no!" Sarah's voice came through the speaker much louder now. "What happened? Where is he? Is he hurt?"

  "We don't know," Dewey said.

  Tiffin scowled at him. "He's close. Some men took him. We tried to stop them, but—"

  "Where are you?" Sarah said. "Tell me where you are and how long Jake's been gone."

  Tiffin turned around to look at the sign above the entrance to the cantina. "The Black Hole. It's the local hangout." She looked down the street both directions and at the nearby buildings. "I'm not sure exactly where it is from you. There's a place called Stardust nearby." She looked at Dewey and shrugged.

  He shrugged back, then turned his eyes to the comm device.

  "Okay," Sarah said. "I found the place."

  Tiffin looked up and scanned the sky above the buildings around her. "Where are you?"

  "I'm still parked," Sarah said. "I pulled up a map of the area from the local services broadcast channel."

  "Cool," Tiffin said. She took in and let out a heavy breath. "We don't have a lot of time. We didn't see which way they went with him, but it's only been a few minutes."

  "Sarah," Dewey said. "These were some big guys that took him. I don't think they picked him at random."

  "I'm sure they didn't," Sarah said. "I told him to forget the trail Hyde's men left. I should've deleted those coordinates."

  "Sarah," Tiffin said. "I have the blaster. We just need to know which way to go. There are too many buildings. Too many places they could've taken him."

  "Can you contact the authorities?" Dewey asked. "We need to get some help."

  "There isn't time!" Tiffin pulled the blaster from her cargo pocket and held it in front of her, barrel up.

  "She's right," Sarah said. "Most of these outposts are only loosely policed. By the time we finished explaining the situation to them, it might be too late. But I'll do that anyway, but don't wait for them. They're probably not going to be of much help."

  "Argh! What are we supposed to do?" Tiffin waved her blaster around as she spoke.

  Dewey leaned out of the line of the barrel as she swung it in front of him.

  "Are there tracks on the ground or anything like that?" Sarah asked.

  Tiffin and Dewey looked around again.

  "Not really," Tiffin said. "Oh, wait. I just remembered—they had a symbol."

  "Describe it," Sarah said.

  Tiffin pulled the image from her memory. "A ship. Squiggly lines around it."

  There was a moment of silence among the three of them.

  "Well," Dewey said. "Does that mean anything?"

  "Hold on," Sarah said. "Checking."

  "Hurry." Tiffin knew she didn't have to tell Sarah to hurry, but it just came out. She wanted to know which direction she needed to go.

  "Yes," Sarah said. "I think it means we know where they took him."

  "Let's have it," Tiffin said, taking a stance as if she was ready to break into a run.

  "They're a local outfit," Sarah said. "They have small cargo staging warehouse at the far end of docking street I'm on. Well, across the street from the ship platforms. Hold on. Okay. Yes, thirty-seven platforms down from me."

  Tiffin grabbed Dewey's wrist and yanked him into a follow, as she hurried back in the general direction of the ship docking street, as best as she remembered its location.

  After briefly stumbling, Dewey began to move of his own free will and Tiffin released her grip on his wrist.

  "We're on our way," Tiffin said as she ran. They curved their path to avoid pedestrians and a couple of mag-lev carts moving goods.

  "Don't miss your ship," a man called out from behind them.

  Dewey kept up, but with considerably more effort than Tiffin seemed to be using.

  Sarah's voice was a little harder to hear, with the comm belt held low and moving back and forth with Dewey's arm as he ran. "Look for the symbol. Maybe it's on their ship or dock, or the building."

  "Right." Tiffin glanced at her vest and saw Squeakers apparently bouncing around inside her pocket. "Hang on, Squeakers."

  They passed a few buildings and Tiffin pulled away from Dewey a little. She glanced back to see he had stopped and was leaning forward with one hand on a knee. He was out of breath. Tiffin halted and turned to him. "We can't stop!"

  "I can't," Dewey said. "I can't run anymore. I'm sorry." He panted a few times before continuing. "They got me pretty badly. It's my back…and my leg…and my head. I'm sorry, Tiffin."

  Tiffin was surprised by the extent of his injuries. She wanted to keep running, but she knew he had taken a bad beating—evidently worse that she first thought. She scanned the area. They were in the middle of a wide dirt street, one-story buildings all around them. Dusty cross-streets separating the buildings. She was looking for something...an option, a way to make better time.

  An unimposing man walked in her general direction, pushing a mag-lev cart in front of him. He had only one hand on the horizontal bar of the floating cart, which was loaded with a pile of small metal parts—too heavy for the man to move on his own, she thought. She realized the cart not only levitated the load, but had its on propulsion.

  If I can steer it at that speed—hoping the cart could go considerably faster than its current pace.

  "Dewey! Come on!" She waved him over as she approached the man with the mag-lev cart. The man didn't seem to notice her until she was right next to him.

  He was mumbling something. It sounded like song lyrics, but she couldn't make out all the words. "Ever I travel far…hope…dying star…fusion fades…dying days."

  The man stopped reciting the lyrics and took notice of her. Breathing heavily and staring at him with wide eyes, she clearly had something to say.

  "May I help you, young lady?"

  Tiffin was taken aback by the kindness of the man's tone. She felt badly about what she was about to do.

  "I'm very sorry for this," sh
e said, raising her blaster and pointing it at the man.

  Dewey joined the two to them. "What are you doing?"

  Tiffin didn't bother to look at Dewey. She flicked the barrel of her blaster upward slightly, still aiming it at the man. "I need your cart."

  The man seemed to be calm about the situation, in spite of the blaster in his face "Do you?"

  "Tiffin!" Dewey took a step toward her.

  She held her arm out and pushed against Dewey's chest. "Don't." She glanced at Dewey and then turned back to the man. Lowering her blaster, she stepped closer to him. "Our friend has been taken. We have to save him. We can't get there fast enough on foot. I'm sorry." She glanced back at Dewey for a second, the stared at the man again. She did her best to keep her eyes dry, but she knew she might fail at that any second. "We need it. Now. My friend's life..."

  "This isn't a vehicle," the man said.

  "I know." Tiffin put her blaster into the cargo pocket of her pants. "He's in trouble. We know where he is, but if we don't hurry, we may be too late."

  "Tiffin," Dewey said with a sympathetic tone. "How's this going to help?"

  "We can pay you," Tiffin said. "More than enough."

  "I'm sorry about your friend," the man said. "But…" He shrugged.

  "A thousand credits," Tiffin said.

  "Really?" the man said—his face lit up. "Why? You can get one of these for ninety credits on the other side of town."

  "Tiffin?" Dewey reached to put his hand on her shoulder, but she leaned toward him and grabbed the comm belt from his other hand.

  She held it in front of her, showing it to the man. Then she flipped the locking lever to the side and pressed the comm link button.

  "Dewey?" Sarah said.

  "It's Tiffin. I'm sending a man to you. We owe him a thousand credits. I need you to give it to him."

  "What?" Sarah said.

  "I don't have time to explain," Tiffin said. "It's to save Jake."

  "Done," Sarah said. "Send him here."

  "I will," Tiffin said.

  "Just find Jake." Sarah's voice cracked a little.

  "I will."

  Tiffin held out the comm belt to the man. "Take it. She's docked with all the other ships. Do we have a deal?"