Sirian Summer (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 2)

by John Bowers

  It took Strong a second, then he took a step back.

  “What the hell is this? You robbing me?” Strong’s face began to purple.

  Nick drew his laser pistol and thumbed the power switch. The faint warm-up whine lasted only a second. With his other hand he pulled his badge out of his pocket and held it up for Strong to see.

  “Nick Walker,” he said. “U.F. Marshal. You’re trafficking in human slaves in violation of Federation law.”

  “Whoa, hold on!”Strong’s hands were in the air. “Slavery is legal on this planet! I’m not trafficking at all, I’m just taking advantage of the local economy. This is hostile country, you have to adjust to opportunity wherever you find it.”

  Nick gestured with the weapon. Strong wasn’t wearing a gunbelt, but he might have a concealed weapon.

  “Turn around, hands behind your back.”

  Strong obeyed, his face dark with anger. Nick drew a pair of E-cuffs from another pocket and snapped them on, then told him to sit on a sofa. Nick lowered his weapon but didn’t holster it. He gestured the girls to another sofa across the room, and they scrambled to sit, their faces shining with hope.

  “You might sell that story to a magistrate,” Nick told Strong, “or you might not. But at least two of these girls were taken from territory that is still under Federation law, so what’s legal up north does not apply. You follow me?”

  “Hey, I didn’t know that. I buy off the transports that come in from Texiana, so I just assumed they were legal.”

  “What’s legal in Texiana isn’t necessarily legal here,” Nick pointed out. “Owning or selling slaves is not legal under Federation law, so it really doesn’t matter where the girls came from.”

  Strong’s eyes glinted bitterly.

  “So you’re going to arrest every man in the Outback who owns a slave? Do you have any idea how many men own slaves?”

  “Yes, I do. You don’t need to concern yourself with my plans. What’s important right now is that I have you in custody, and you need to be asking yourself what I’m going to do about it.”

  Strong swallowed.

  “Okay. What are you going to do about it?”

  “That depends on you. If you cooperate, and stop trafficking, I might let this go. It’s up to you.”

  “Cooperate how?”

  “Give me the names of men in Kline Corners who steal girls and sell them to the slave market.”

  “Kline Corners! I’ve never even been to Kline Corners.”

  “Doesn’t matter. If you have contacts there, I want to know who.”

  “Look, I told you—I purchase from the Texiana slave transport. That’s a legal, licensed company. If they get girls from Kline Corners I have no knowledge of that.”

  Nick stared at him a moment, then turned to the girls. They all looked eager and excited.

  “How many of you are from Kline Corners?” he asked. He pointed at Constanza and Julia. “I know you two are, what about the rest of you?”

  The other four shook their heads. Two told him they were from Texiana, another from Tennetucky, and one from Missibama. They had arrived in Paradise Gulch on different transports.

  “Do you want to stay here?” he asked them as a group.

  All six girls shook their heads. Nick turned back to Strong.

  “I’m going to make this easy for you, Strong. Since you have a legitimate business here, and since the region depends on it, I’m going to cut you a break. I’m taking these girls out of here, and you’re not going to protest. But I will be checking up on you, and if I discover that you’re back in the slave trade, you’re heading out on the next starship to a Federation court. Do we understand each other?”

  Strong’s eyes glittered with hatred, and he compressed his lips. But he nodded.

  “If you feel a burning desire to make money off female labor, then do it legally. Set up a whorehouse and hire some women who want to work for you, and I won’t bother you anymore.” He gestured with the pistol. “Stand up.”

  Nick removed the E-cuffs and ordered Strong to unlock the doors. The girls paraded out into the fenced yard, and Strong unlocked the gate. Everyone moved in a group toward the main office, Strong walking in front where Nick could keep an eye on him. When they reached the front of the office building, Nick stopped.

  “Do you have a hovercar?”

  “Yes.” Strong nodded toward a large vehicle parked just outside the lights that now illuminated the parking area.

  “Give me the keys. I’m taking it.”

  “Hey!”

  “It will be returned in a couple of days. I don’t have enough room in my car for all these girls.”

  Strong reluctantly handed him the keys. Nick turned to the girls.

  “Wait here.”

  He pushed Strong into the office. Yolanda looked up from the desk, her smile returning. The smile died as Nick held up his badge.

  “Yolanda, Mr. Strong has agreed to release the slave girls into my custody. I’m taking them out of here. That includes you, if you’re here against your will.”

  The young woman’s mouth dropped open; she glanced from Nick to Strong, and back.

  “I don’t want to leave,” she said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  “You’re not a slave?”

  She hesitated, then nodded slowly.

  “Yes, I am. But I have a better life here than I did at home. Mr. Strong treats me well. He buys me nice things.”

  Nick gazed into her eyes for long seconds.

  “No miéntame,” he said.

  Her eyes widened in surprise, but she shook her head.

  “I’m not lying. I like it here.”

  Nick saw her sincerity, and believed her.

  “Okay,” he said. “But you’re no longer a slave. Any time you want to leave, you leave. This man has no right to hold you against your will. Understand?”

  She nodded. “I understand.”

  Nick turned to Strong. “You get to keep this one,” he said. “For now.”

  Nick walked out of the office and joined the girls where they waited for him.

  “Do any of you know how to drive a hovercar?”

  “I do.” The one Strong had called Susie raised her hand.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  “Have you driven much?”

  “I grew up on a ranch. I was driving hovers since I was twelve.”

  Nick tossed her Strong’s keys. “Bring that car over here and set it down next to this one.”

  She smiled at him and trotted away. Nick herded the others toward his own rented vehicle. It would seat five, including himself, but with the bigger car available, he figured to take two girls and let Susie drive the rest. By the time he reached his car and unlocked it, Susie had the bigger car fired up and was lifting off. Nick watched in admiration as she spun it expertly around and parked it ten feet beyond his own. Nick turned to the remaining five girls.

  “Two of you get in, the rest go with Susie. We’re heading home.”

  The girls screamed as a laser pistol chirped behind him, and the shot flashed off the windscreen of his car.

  “I don’t think so, Marshal!” said a voice he hadn’t heard before. “Drop your weapon and step away from the girls.”

  Nick swallowed quickly against the sudden adrenaline rush, but turned his head slowly to see who was talking. The man was even shorter than Ted Strong, but the weapon in his hand was plenty big enough. The pistol was pointed straight at his face.

  “Do it now, Marshal. I won’t warn you again.”

  Nick took two careful steps backward, taking himself out of line with the girls. He lifted his pistol out of the holster and dropped it on the ground. He glared at the man behind the gun.

  The little man took a step forward, and tossed a pair of E-cuffs at him.

  “Put those on,” he said.

  “Who the hell are you?” Nick demanded.

 
The little man turned slightly, letting Nick see the badge on his shirt.

  “Steve Baker,” he said. “U.F. Marshal.”

  Chapter 12

  “You weren’t trained to kill by accident. The time may come when you will have no better ally than your sidearm. When that time comes, don’t hesitate. And never, ever, try to wound your target. Always shoot to kill.”

  —Professor Milligan, U.F. Marshal Academy

  For ten long seconds, time seemed to stand still. Night bugs fluttered and buzzed overhead, the five girls huddled together against the car. Nick stood holding the E-cuffs, his hands half raised. Steve Baker motioned with his pistol.

  “Put the cuffs on, Marshal,” he repeated.

  “Did you kill Ron Gates?” Nick demanded.

  “What! What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Did—you—kill—Ron Gates! Yes or no.”

  “No, of course not. Are you the one they sent to replace him?”

  “You’re smarter than you look.” Nick tossed the E-cuffs into the dirt at Baker’s feet. “You kill another U.F. Marshal,” he said, “and they won’t send a replacement this time. They’ll send the Star Marines.”

  Baker laughed, an ugly, snorting sound. “Sure they will! They’ll spend a million terros to transport the Star Marines out here over one dead lawman.”

  “It’s only taxpayer money,” Nick told him. “Star Marines get paid whether they work or not.” He bent over to retrieve his laser pistol. Baker fired a shot into the dirt.

  “Don’t touch it!” he warned. “The next one goes through your hand.”

  Nick twisted his head toward Baker, measuring his determination. Slowly he wrapped his fingers around the weapon and straightened up.

  Baker’s hand twitched, but he didn’t fire. “I’m warning you!” he chirped.

  Nick slipped the weapon into his holster and lowered his hands to his side. “Fuck you, Baker. If you were gonna kill me, you’d have done it already.”

  “Don’t be too sure. Move away from the girls.”

  “I already did that. What the hell are you trying to prove? Are you involved in the slave trade too?”

  “Shut your filthy mouth, Marshal…what the hell is your name, anyway?”

  “Walker.”

  “Okay. Just keep your thoughts to yourself, Walker. I’m gonna let you leave, but those girls stay here.”

  “Over my dead body,” Nick said, exuding a bravado he didn’t really feel.

  “That can be arranged.”

  Nick took another step away from the girls, turning to fully face his antagonist.

  “So how does it work, Baker? You take a cut from the sale of these girls? Or do you just like to fuck them?”

  “Man, your mouth is writing checks!”

  “Is Colwell in on it too? Is that why the two of you turn a blind eye to slavery in Federation territory? Because you’re getting paid?”

  “Just get in the fucking car and go!” Baker’s hand was shaking harder.

  “I’m not turning my back on you, Baker. You can’t afford to let me just walk out of here.”

  “Yeah? And why is that?”

  “Because you know I’ll file a report to London. And you’ll be a wanted man. So I figure, the minute I turn my back, you’ll gun me down.”

  “I coulda done that already. You said so yourself.”

  “Yeah, but that was before you had time to figure it all out. Now I’ve been running my mouth and you know what will happen if I get back to Kline Corners. So, you don’t have a choice any more. You can’t let me leave here alive, with or without the girls.”

  Baker didn’t answer, but he trembled with indecision. Nick saw sweat gleaming in the reflected light.

  “Before you shoot,” Nick said slowly, “just tell me one thing. Why would you take part in something as hideous as this? I’d like to understand that much. Was it the money?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not involved in anyt…”

  BLAAAT!

  Strong’s car horn shattered the evening like a bomb, and Baker jerked his weapon toward the sound.

  Nick drew and fired before he could swing back, the laser bolt burning through his stomach.

  Baker folded with an oof! and the pistol tumbled from his fingers.

  Nick leaped forward and kicked it away, then knelt over the wounded man, pushing his hat out of the way.

  Baker lay quivering, staring at the stars. Smoke curled from the hole in his shirt.

  Nick brushed the hair out of his eyes as Baker focused on him. “Not…involved,” he gasped. “Not involved.”

  “Then what? Why did you draw down on me?”

  Baker shook his head, pain creasing his forehead. “Can’t…tell you. Personal.”

  Baker convulsed and lay still.

  Nick felt for a pulse, but he was gone. With a sick feeling in his gut, he struggled to his feet. Christ!

  The girls clustered around, half scared but morbidly curious, their eyes reflecting the horror of it.

  “¿Está muerto?” one of them asked.

  Nick nodded. “Yeah, he’s dead.”

  With little effort, he got the girls back to the cars.

  Susie had exited Strong’s vehicle and stood staring toward Baker’s body. Nick put an arm around her.

  “Gracias,” he told her. “When you blew that horn, you saved my life.”

  She smiled weakly at him, then got back in the car. Nick made sure the girls were all seated in the vehicles, then told them to wait. He walked back to the office building. Strong wasn’t there, but Yolanda was standing in the doorway, looking across the hard-packed ground toward Baker’s body.

  “What happened?” she asked in an awed voice. “Why did he draw on you?”

  “I asked him that, after I shot him. I still don’t know the answer.”

  The girl crossed herself and backed away from the door. Nick stepped inside.

  “You saw it?”

  “Yes. I’ve known him a long time, I couldn’t believe what he was doing!”

  “I need you to call Marshal Colwell up at Dusty Springs. Tell him what happened and get him down here. Can you do that?”

  “Of course.”

  “Also tell him I’m going back to Kline Corners, but I’ll call him tomorrow. I want to get these girls out of here before anything else happens.”

  “What do I tell him about Marshal Baker?”

  “Tell him what you saw. Baker wanted to stop me from taking the girls. I still don’t know why—he swore he wasn’t involved in the slave trade.” Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know if he was or not?”

  “No, I never saw anything to suggest that he was.”

  “Any idea why he tried to interfere?”

  “No. It doesn’t make any sense.” She seemed shaken.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded unsteadily. “Just a little shocked, that’s all.”

  He patted her on the shoulder.

  “Just tell the truth. Everything will be okay.”

  Nick returned to the cars, told Susie to follow him, and lifted off. The girl followed at a sedate pace, keeping fifty yards behind as he crested the ridge and began dropping toward the chuck tent where he’d first arrived in Paradise Gulch. He settled the car in front of the tent and got out. He signaled the girls to wait and walked into the tent. About twenty miners and a few nondescript women were eating at the long tables. Nick saw Maria working at the stoves, Booger hauling food to the customers.

  Booger eyed Nick suspiciously.

  “Wanna try that tripod now?”

  Nick brushed on past him and went straight to Maria. She looked up at him in surprise, her eyes turning fearful.

  “Where is the girl who lives here?” he demanded in Spanic.

  “¿La m-muchacha? No sé…”

  “The girl!” he shouted. “The young slave! Where is she!”

  Maria stared at him in horror, her eyes shifting over his shoulder as Booge
r approached.

  “Hey! What the hell’re yew sayin’ to her?” the fat cook demanded.

  Nick spun around and backhanded him; Booger fell back in astonishment, his hand going to his cheek.

  “Yew cain’t do that!” he sputtered. “That’s assault and battery!”

  “Take me to the girl!” Nick said to Maria. “¡Ahora mismo!”

  Maria dropped her spatula and started around the stove. Booger pushed against Nick.

  “Now just a goddamn min…”

  Nick turned again and drove a fist into his belly, another into his chin. Booger crashed against a table and rebounded to the floor. Several customers sprang to his aid, but Nick was gone, following Maria through the flap in the rear of the tent. Twenty paces from the exit was another tent, and Maria knocked on the flimsy wooden door. Nick pushed her aside and kicked the door in, barging into an untidy pigpen that smelled almost as bad as Booger himself.

  “¡Chiquita!” he bellowed. “¿Dónde estás?”

  He plowed through the litter that covered the floor toward the rear of the tent. He heard someone sobbing in fear, and jerked aside the flap of a partitioned sleeping space. There, dimly visible in the gloom, a young girl huddled on a portable cot, shaking with terror as she looked up at him.

  Nick stood still, forcing himself to relax. Trying to strike a less threatening pose, he dropped into a crouch.

  The girl whimpered as she stared at him, too terrified to speak.

  Nick pulled a torch off his belt and thumbed it, flooding the space with light.

  The girl was about thirteen, maybe a little older. She had no bruises that he could see, nor was she undernourished. But her right wrist was shackled to the edge of the cot. Nick tugged at it, but it held. He tried his E-cuff key, but it didn’t work. He took a deep breath and glanced at the girl, forcing himself to smile.

  “Consuelo Ratón?” He recognized her from the holo in Gates’s file.

  She nodded.

  “I’m a Federation Marshal,” he told her. “Don’t be afraid. You’re free now.”

  The girl glanced up at Maria, who stood behind Nick. Nick stood up and put a hand on Maria’s shoulder.

  “And you, too,” he said.

  Nick left Maria with the girl and stalked back into the chuck tent. Booger was on his feet, grumbling to his customers, when Nick came up behind him. Nick jammed his laser pistol into Booger’s neck.