by John Bowers
—Professor Milligan, U.F. Marshal Academy
Willard Kline looked wilted when he entered the Vega with Roy Blake in tow. His shirt was stained with sweat and dried mud, his hat was dusty…in short he looked as if he’d just walked in out of a sirocco. Roy Blake looked a lot better, but he’d probably been indoors all day. The sweat stain around his collar had likely been generated by the walk down the street. Both men took a seat at Nick’s table, and Kline called for a beer. Blake lit a cigarette and blue smoke billowed around Nick’s head.
Kristina set the beer in front of Kline and he smiled up at her, grabbed her forearm, and pulled her gently down for a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank yew, sweetheart.”
Kristina smiled and retreated, brushing her cheek once she was far enough away that Kline couldn’t see. Kline turned expectant eyes on Nick.
“You wanted to see me?”
Nick nodded, and poured himself another glass of water from a pitcher.
“Where is Gerald Graves right now?” he demanded.
“Back in his cell,” Blake replied, his eyes betraying annoyance. “Just like you wanted.”
Nick nodded. “Thank you.”
Kline shifted in his chair. “What did you want with me? I got a lot of work to do.”
Nick sat back in his chair, gazing at the rancher for a moment.
“I killed one of your employees today,” he said.
In the short time he’d known Kline, Nick had thought nothing could surprise the man. He was wrong—Kline looked as if he’d been slapped.
“What!”
“I think his name was Slim Owens.”
“What—When—”
Kline was speechless, sputtering incoherently. Nick rescued him.
“I had a tip that a slave transport was coming down from Texiana today,” he said. “I went out to meet it. When I got there, I found a beat up old farm pickup also waiting for it. Owens and another man, whom I believe to be Joel Graves, had a serf girl with them they were planning to sell.”
Kline’s face shifted colors, but he still had difficulty finding words.
“Where did you get the tip from?” he managed.
“That is not your concern.”
“One of my men is dead! That makes it my concern!”
“Negative,” Nick said decisively. “What should concern you is that two of your men were planning to sell a Federation citizen into slavery. That is a very serious crime, and one which I will not tolerate.”
“You said the girl was a serf.”
“Mr. Kline, there is no such thing in the Federation as a serf! I advise you to keep that in mind. There are only citizens, and the color of their skin has no bearing whatsoever on their civil rights.”
That Kline was angry was obvious, but he seemed to control himself with an effort.
“I’m not a child, Walker! Don’t talk down to me like one. I know that what you’re saying is correct, but on this planet everybody north of the border thinks differently, and it’s kind of hard to ignore down here, even though we are still part of the Federation.”
“And that may change in a few years,” Blake added. “There’s been a lot of talk about a confederacy. If that fella Lucius Clay gets elected in Missibama—”
“Until that happens,” Nick interrupted, “Federation law still applies. Now what I need to know from you, Mr. Kline, is where to find Joel Graves.”
Kline spread his hands. “Right at the moment I have no idea. I put out the word like you wanted, but he never showed up.”
“Would your son Willis know?”
“He might. I’ll ask him. Are you sure it was the Graves boy?”
“Willis described him as a big, good looking kid about eighteen. The one I saw, who was with Slim Owens, fit that description.”
“How do you know Slim Owens?”
“Willis described him too. Skinny, about seventy, looks like a scarecrow.”
Kline exchanged glances with Blake. “Sounds like Slim, all right.” To Nick, “Why did you kill him?”
“Because I had to. I also had to kill three men from that transport.”
Kline’s jaw dropped another inch. He seemed to notice Nick’s arm for the first time.
“One of them got you too, did they?”
“Yeah.”
Kline sat there a moment, thinking.
“I got a question,” Blake said, blowing smoke over Nick’s head. “Why do you give a damn about what happens in Texiana? It’s out of your jurisdiction.”
“As long as they don’t cross the border,” Nick told him, “I don’t give a damn. But when they sell the women in Federation territory, it’s a violation of Federation law. Especially when they’re trafficking local girls from around here.”
Kline’s face looked like granite.
“I’ll keep looking for Joel Graves,” he said finally. “You want me to bring him in, or just tell you where he is?”
“Bring him in if he’ll come. Otherwise I’ll go get him.”
Kline nodded grimly. “Anything else?”
“Yes. In addition to the girl your men were about to sell, I brought back thirty-one women that were on board that transport. They’re over at Dr. Taylor’s place right now, and I’m probably going to have to send them back to Texiana. But until that determination is made, I need your support.”
“What do you mean? What kind of support?”
“The prevailing attitude around here seems to be that, because they are serfs, they aren’t really people. You and I know different, but apparently some of your employees don’t. I would like you to spread the word that you expect total cooperation from your people in this matter. It would just make my job a whole lot easier if I didn’t have to worry about the safety of those women.”
Kline looked uncertain whether he should take offense. “And if I don’t?”
Nick shrugged. “If you don’t, you don’t. But if you do…my respect for you will soar.” He smiled. “I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Kline sat back in his chair, his chest swelling, and then laughed.
“Goddammit, Marshal! Every time I think I have you figured out, you surprise me. Okay, I’ll spread the word.”
Nick dipped his head. “I appreciate it.”
Suzanne had been watching the conference from behind the bar. As soon as the mood lightened, she approached and asked Kline if he and Blake wanted dinner. Blake said yes, but the rancher declined, claiming he had too much work to do. After a few more minutes of conversation, he took his leave. Blake ordered steak and coffee, and sat blowing nicotine into the air.
“Sounds like you had yourself quite a day, Marshal,” he said, suddenly buddies now that Kline had left.
“It was one I could have done without.” Nick winced as the tobacco smoke stung his eyes. “Could I ask you to put that out? My eyes are watering.”
Blake laughed, took a last drag, and stubbed out the butt.
“You young pups!” he declared. “Don’t you know tobacco puts lead in your pencil?”
Nick grimaced. “My pencil is just fine.”
Blake laughed again, uproariously.
“Tell me about Slim Owens,” Nick said.
“Why do you want to know? You said he’s dead.”
“I’d like to know more about him.”
Blake shrugged. “I didn’t know him all that well. He never came into town that often. Wasn’t married, from what I heard. Came to Sirius as an exile about thirty, forty years ago, one of the last convicts the Federation ever sent out here.”
Nick’s senses sharpened. “What was his crime?”
“Nobody ever said, but it couldn’t have been murder. The Federation never exiled killers. More likely a sex offender. They sent them out here by the ship load.”
“Did he have a reputation?”
“Not particularly. I guess everybody has a reputation of some kind, but about the only thing I heard about Slim was that he liked girls.”
“Girls? Most me
n like girls.”
“Little girls,” Blake said. “He liked ‘em young.”
“And you never arrested him?”
“Like I told you before, my jurisdiction ends at the edge of town. And Slim never came into town that much. Far as I know, he never did any dirt in Kline Corners. They say he got his girls from the villages.”
Nick’s teeth clenched slightly, and anger burned in his guts. If he’d had any reservations about the man’s death, his only regret now was that it had been Nathan who killed him, and not himself.
“Well,” he told Blake, “that all fits. He liked to rape little girls, and if he could sell them afterward, so much the better.”
Kristina brought coffee, and Blake sipped it.
“Sounds about right,” he said. “Score one for our side.”
Nick glanced at Blake’s leathery features, and smiled in irony.
Our side?
After Blake left, the dining room was empty except for Nick. Suzanne joined him again and set a glass of brandy in front of him.
“On the house,” she said. “Might help you relax.”
Nick smiled. “Good timing. I think Dr. Taylor’s pain killer is starting to wear off.”
He sipped the brandy, feeling the heat spread through his insides. He closed his eyes with pleasure.
“I really admire what you’re doing, Nick,” Suzanne said. “I’ve never told anyone this, but I’ve always been appalled at Sirian attitudes toward race. Until you came here, no one ever tried to do anything about it.”
“Everybody tells me I’m wasting my time. That it isn’t going to change anything.”
“They’re partly right—it isn’t going to change anything. But as for wasting your time…if you asked them, I doubt the women you’ve rescued would think you had wasted your time.”
“What’s this about a confederacy?”
“There’s talk up in the states about unification. Lucius Clay is running for president in Missibama, and if he wins, he promises to form all the Sirian states into a confederacy. If that happens, they’ll petition the Federation for complete autonomy.”
“And I’ll be out of a job.” He grimaced. “Here, anyway.”
She nodded sadly. “The whole planet will be under a single government. All Federation offices will be closed. I hope it doesn’t happen, but there’s a lot of support for it.”
“This whole planet will descend into the dark ages.”
“It already has. A confederacy will only make it official.”
Nick sipped his drink, feeling warmer and more relaxed than he had since arriving on the planet. It didn’t hurt that a gorgeous Vegan beauty sat across from him, admiration in her eyes.
“You were very brave today,” she said.
He shook his head. “Just doing the job. Nathan was the brave one. He walked into that situation when he didn’t have to.”
“He loves you, Nick. He looks up to you.”
Nick gazed at her for a minute, and made a decision.
“I have a confession to make,” he said.
She tilted her head curiously.
“You have to swear you won’t repeat this,” he said.
“I swear to Sophia.”
“Four men were killed today,” he said. “I only killed three of them.”
Suzanne’s eyes widened. “You mean—Nathan…?”
He nodded. “Nathan broke the stalemate. I was wounded and trapped. Nathan went and got the girl, but that Owens guy jumped him. Nathan had to shoot him in self defense. That distracted the guy who had me pinned down, and I was able to take him out.”
“Goddess!”
“That kid is the real hero, not me.”
“That’s unbelievable!”
“Is it? Didn’t you tell me he was absolutely fearless when he tackled Willis Kline?”
She nodded slowly.
“Yes, he was. I never saw anything like it.”
“He’ll make a fine U.F. Marshal one day.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”
“If I have anything to do with it, and I think I will.”
Her eyes lost focus for a moment.
“But what about…”
“Kristina?”
She blinked, her tongue tracing her lips. Then she nodded.
“Yes, I guess so. What about Kristina?”
“I think that’s up to you. How do you feel about the two of them together?”
She shook her head and waved a hand helplessly.
“I honestly don’t know. I know Nathan is a good boy, but—they’re so young! And so intense about each other! Nathan is really the only boy Kristina knows very well.”
“You think their love isn’t real?”
“I’m sure they think it is, but…what happens five years from now? Suppose Nathan does become a marshal, and gets posted to some other planet? He’ll meet women from other cultures—maybe he won’t find Kristina as attractive as he does now.”
Nick shrugged. “That’s a risk any man takes when he loves a woman. No matter where he lives, there will be women who might tempt him. The same is true for his wife.”
Suzanne nodded sadly. “Maybe I shouldn’t be saying ‘what if’ all the time, but I just don’t want Kristina to be hurt.”
“If Nathan goes to the Academy and gets his star, how would you feel about Kristina leaving Sirius to marry him?”
She thought about that for a moment.
“Probably the same way I’d feel if she stayed here and married him. I’d be happy and sad at the same time.”
“It’s tough being a parent, isn’t it?”
She nodded, her eyes misting a little. Nick yawned.
“You said you had a spare bedroom?”
“Of course. Come on.”
Suzanne told Kristina to close up and led Nick up a flight of stairs behind the kitchen. The entire top floor of the Vega was a three-bedroom apartment. Suzanne led Nick through the living room and into a darkened hallway, his nose curling at the mix of sweet perfumes and incense that transported him to another culture. Soft, alien music issued from hidden speakers. Nick saw Vegan knick-knacks and icons to Sophia around the apartment, exotic paintings on the walls, and passed through a curtain of beads made of sea shells he didn’t recognize.
Suzanne reached a bedroom door and pressed her palm against the sensor. The door slid into its groove and they stepped through; the door closed automatically.
“Mr. Kline had this apartment built to my specifications,” she said. “When life downstairs just gets too unbearable, this is my retreat.”
Nick looked around in amazement at the bed chamber—it was completely feminine, expensively decorated, feathers and frills and lace everywhere. The canopied bed was wide enough to sleep two, but only barely. Suzanne pulled back the covers and plumped the pillows for him.
“I could use a shower,” he said. “I’m covered with sand and grit.”
She showed him the bathroom and twenty minutes later he stepped out, nude. To his surprise, she was still there. He tugged at the towel around his waist, his face pinking with embarrassment.
“I thought you had left,” he said.
Suzanne took a step forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her lush lips found his mouth and sucked hard; Nick almost dropped the towel.
“I won’t be leaving until morning,” she told him. “This is my room.”
Nick’s heart hammered with a burst of adrenaline. His mouth felt dry.
“I had no idea that you…had ideas.”
She smiled and kissed him again. Then she stepped back and peeled off her blouse. Nick’s eyes were magnetized to her chest as her bra followed, and in spite of his injury every nerve ending stood alert. He let go of the towel, but it didn’t fall.
“Are those real?” he whispered, gazing at her breasts.
Suzanne laughed. “How long have you been wanting to ask me that?”
“Since last Thursday.”
She laughed aga
in, pulled him against her, and pressed her twin orbs against his chest. They were firm and warm.
“Yes, they are one hundred percent real. Genetically engineered by the finest scientists on Vega, but real.”
She led him to the bed, arranged him on his back, and stepped back. She released her skirt, let it drop, and stepped out of it. Her underwear followed. Nick watched her with glazed eyes, his manhood throbbing painfully. She reached for the lamp and turned the light down to a dim glow. The room had no windows, so the daylight outside could not penetrate. Suzanne climbed onto the bed and settled down across his thighs. She leaned down and kissed him again, her fingers massaging his chest.
“How’s the arm feeling?” she asked softly in his ear.
“It hurts a little,” he admitted.
She smiled, positioned herself, and settled down onto him. Nick shivered, closing his eyes involuntarily, sucking in his breath.
“How’s the arm now?” she asked.
“Arm? What arm?”
Suzanne laughed again, sounding girlish like Kristina.
“Just relax,” she told him in a sultry voice. “I’ll be gentle with you.”
Chapter 23
From time to time, your mission may cross over into the arena of diplomacy. If you ever find yourself without guidance, try not to start a war. Other than that, you are on your own—there are no rules.
Page 317, U.F. Marshal Handbook
Wednesday, July 22, 0442 (CC) – Kline Corners, Sirius 1
Nick woke disoriented. It took him a moment to remember where he was and how he got there. Suzanne was gone, but he found a fresh change of clothing on the foot of the bed. His own clothing, from his hotel room. How had she managed that?
Sam, of course. The old bastard couldn’t say no to anybody. But it probably wasn’t his fault. Suzanne could be very intimidating when she wanted to, and Sam wouldn’t stand a chance against her in a contest of wills.
Nick showered again, removing the sling first, and then dressed carefully. The arm was sore, but didn’t really hurt. Dr. Taylor had done a good job, and he was gratified that he was able to move it around with very little discomfort.
He felt a little sheepish when he came down the stairs. Kristina was in the kitchen with Maria Escobar, whom Suzanne had offered a job, and both women smiled at him. Kristina’s eyes sparkled a little, as if they shared an inside joke. Nick managed a grin and felt a flush creep into his cheeks.
