In the Black

by Sheryl Nantus

“Yes.” Belle took over the conversation again. “It leads to a recycling room. Men are assigned to go through the items and sort them.”

  Jenny sighed. “The Guild. Always making money. If they can sell your old work boots to a fetishist, they’ll do it for a buck. But he’d be risking going straight to the incinerator—the base computer sorts organic matter along the way and reroutes that to the burner. No point in sending our spoiled fruit to the recycling room, you know?” She spread her fingers in a mock explosion. “Poof.”

  Sam rubbed her temples. “Okay, so they’re not sneaking out via the garbage dump. There’s got to be a way for someone to get off this ship and back again without anyone knowing.”

  “Maybe. I dunno, I never thought about it.” Jenny twisted around to glance at the monitor. “Does this have to do with Halley’s murder? Why would someone go to the presentation?” She stared at the fuzzy image. “They’d have to have a reason, right?” A panicked look came across her face. “Sam, what’s going on? Is the killer one of the crew?” She spun around as if expecting an ax-wielding monster to burst out of the vents around them. “One of the crew?” Jenny repeated, her voice rising.

  “It’s a theory, nothing you need to worry about. We’re running down lots of options and that’s one of them.” Sam hit a button and the image of the limping man disappeared. Her mind raced down paths best kept from the Belle’s mechanic. “I need you to secure every opening in and off this ship right now, cut all the lines we’re finished with and lock them up. I don’t care if you have to weld them shut, I need them all secured. Keep Belle updated on what’s locked up. Even the ones you think would be too small for anyone to get through, every single one. Then go back to your quarters until I or Daniel give the all clear for you to come out. Don’t listen to anyone else, don’t answer to anyone else except for Belle.” She paused. “Or Chief Huckness if Daniel and I aren’t around. You can trust him.”

  Jenny stared at her. “It’s going to get bad, isn’t it?”

  Sam nodded. There was nothing more to be said.

  “Good luck,” Jenny whispered before scrambling into another maintenance vent.

  Sam waited until the noises of the mechanic’s retreat subsided before letting her breath out slowly, her lungs aching.

  She could sit there and wait for Daniel to figure out who the killer was.

  She could also take up knitting and install a rocking chair.

  “Belle, can you tell me how many times the gravity’s been turned on in certain quarters?”

  “I don’t understand your request.”

  “The ship, we keep the gravity turned off unless it’s paid for, right?” Sam chose her words carefully. “Every client, every courtesan pays for the gravity to be turned on.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Show me the stats for this visit so far. How often the gravity’s been turned on in the individual private quarters.”

  Belle’s tone changed. “That’s not supposed to be public information, Captain. It reflects on the clients and violates the confidentiality agreement.”

  “I’m not asking for identification of the clients. I’m asking for which courtesan’s been in weightlessness the most so far this cycle. I’ll take the heat for it.” Sam waited a second before realizing Belle hadn’t understood her. “I’ll take full responsibility, Belle. Alpha-alpha niner-one-one.” The words felt strange on her tongue, the special override code mentioned in the manual only once under a long litany of warnings and veiled threats for invoking it.

  She couldn’t get fired for using it.

  She could end up running a Charity ship.

  “Captain—”

  “Dig it out, Belle.”

  “This will take a few minutes.” The AI sounded ticked off. “Please stand by.”

  She couldn’t blame Belle for her attitude. The code was something not to be used lightly and she knew she’d pay for it somewhere down the line. Odds were even as Belle was searching the records a coded message was going to the Guild, informing them of her use.

  Fuck it.

  Sam slapped her harness and shoved herself up. She felt dirty, contaminated by recent events.

  She couldn’t afford a full gravity shower but she could afford a clean shirt.

  It only took a few seconds to reach the small room designated as her quarters. The door shut silently behind her.

  She swam over to the far wall and tapped a square button. The panel slid open to show the handful of shelves, her shirts as neatly folded and lined up as if she was still in the military. The Velcro straps held them in place and now Sam undid one and pulled another olive T-shirt free.

  Stripping off her sweaty shirt took a few seconds and she yanked on the laundry chute handle.

  It opened easily, the wide dark passage waiting for her delivery.

  Sam stared at it and then at her shirt.

  “Belle, where does this chute go?” She knew the answer but needed to confirm it.

  “While we are between landfalls it leads to the laundry room where Jenny would process the clothing.” The AI’s chirpy voice returned, grateful to have a mundane question to answer. “Right now the laundry is being rerouted to the industrial machines used by the base.”

  Sam reached down into the shadows and felt the metal sides. Her fingers scraped rough edges as the chute dipped away, headed into the Belle’s undercarriage. A puff of air pushed against her hand as she stretched.

  “Air jets push the laundry down the chute, right?”

  “Yes. Full gravity for delivering laundry is considered a waste of resources. The air jets push the clothing down the shaft, accomplishing the same result.”

  “Does this chute go straight into the industrial washers now that we’re hooked up to the base?”

  “No. It arrives in the main laundry room where it is sorted by the workers who then put the clothing and sheets into separate washers to make sure our items don’t get mixed up with the base’s regular laundry. Later on the cleaned items are returned to the ship.” The curiosity was evident in the AI’s voice. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just an idea.” She scrunched up her shirt into a ball. “How far would it be from one of the courtesans’ quarters to the base laundry?”

  Belle fell silent for a minute. “The number would change depending on which suite you use but it would be close to a quarter-mile from the chute itself to entering the room itself.”

  “Not impossible,” Sam whispered, more to herself than to Belle. “Not if you’re in good shape. Get a good length of rope and a pair of mag-boots to pull yourself back up against the air jets—”

  “I have the results you requested,” Belle said.

  Sam let go of the dirty shirt and let it fall, listening to the puffs of air echoing down the shaft. The chute door closed in silence. She pulled the clean shirt over her head. “Send it in here.”

  It only took a few minutes to scan the appointment screens on her monitor, the red bars showing the clients who didn’t want to pay for gravity and green for those who did.

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see who’d been in zero-g the most.

  “Shoot this information to the marshal.”

  “I cannot—” The AI’s frustrated tone increased.

  “I know, I know.” Sam forced herself to calm down. “Belle, I understand the potential problems. I appreciate you warning me but this is important, life and death. My call, my consequences.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Belle sounded sad. “Data sent and acknowledged as received by his AI.”

  She pulled herself over to the hammock that served as her sleeping bag. The fine mesh tangled in her fingers. “Call Marshal LeClair, please. Feed it through my earpiece. I don’t want it on the speakers.”

  She hadn’t taken the earpiece out when sitting in the
cockpit. Now it was her best way of keeping her chat quiet.

  Sam grabbed hold of a handle set into the wall. The locker opened easily, displaying her dress uniform and a handful of clothing—including the leather jumpsuit she’d worn for the recent presentation.

  Jenny once again had been efficient.

  Her hand brushed against the front of her dark blue uniform jacket, still in the transparent plastic travel bag.

  The shiny medals shone under the plastic wrapping. Every day she looked at them, looked at the eighty silver pieces she’d gotten for surviving the Hub.

  “Sam? You okay?” The concern in Daniel’s voice made her pulse race. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine but I know who the killer is.” She grabbed her sidearm for the second time in six months. “It’s Dane Morris. He snuck off the ship somehow. I’m betting through the laundry chute—if we search his room we’ll probably find a rope or something that let him crawl down and back up into his room. He came to see the presentation and then came back up.”

  “But—”

  She continued strapping the sidearm on, going through the familiar motions. “He ripped his leg up. I saw the bandage when we were all hanging in the galley after my presentation. I didn’t think anything of it. He said he’d cut himself shaving or something stupid like that.”

  “How did he—”

  “I can’t talk right now. He needs to be secured before he can hurt anyone else. Belle, lock Dane Morris’s cabin. If we’re lucky he’s in there. If not we’re going to have to find him and secure him.”

  The pain arrived, a tight band across her chest. Her hand tightened around her gun belt. The worn leather felt warm to her touch, almost alive.

  “Sam, listen to me. You can’t go off half-cocked on this. What’s his motive for killing Halley Comet? He might have gotten off the ship and gotten the token but that doesn’t prove anything other than that he’s a cheap bastard who took advantage of Kowalski’s bad temper.”

  “I don’t know,” Sam admitted. “But it’s a hell of an injury if he’s been avoiding full gravity since it happened.” She pressed on. “I’ve risked a lot to get this information. We need to talk to him right away.”

  “Affirmative on that. At least we’d be able to confront him about the token. I’m on my way to the Belle right now. We’ll figure this out together.” Daniel let out a string of curses, probably aimed at some unfortunate in his way. “Don’t do anything until I get there. I’m the lawman here, not you.” His voice rose. “Don’t do anything risky, Sam.”

  Sam imagined him taking long strides just short of breaking into a run, trying to seem calm to the mining crew around him.

  “I’m the captain of the Bonnie Belle. I take care of my crew,” she snapped back.

  “And your authority goes only so far. I won’t let you get killed to prove how tough you are.”

  “You want to see tough? You just try to stop me,” Sam said. “You’re not the first man I’ve laid out—” She mentally rolled her eyes at the phrasing.

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Let’s take him on together. You can’t do this on your own,” he snarled. “You’re tough but you don’t have to do this alone. Let me be there for you. Let me guard your back.”

  Sam automatically checked to make sure her weapon was loaded. Rubber bullets, the most she was allowed to carry on the Bonnie Belle. Good for crowd control and safe enough to fire without damaging the walls enough to risk an atmospheric leak.

  It’d still be more than enough to knock someone down and out.

  “I’m the captain,” Sam repeated as she headed for the door. “This is still my ship and you’re not dragging anyone off without me there.”

  “I’ll meet you at the landing bay in two minutes. Get Belle to lock the ship down again, keep Dane in his quarters and get the customers to safety.” Daniel’s voice held a note of exhaustion. “Dang, woman. You’ll be the death of me.”

  “Promises, promises. I’ll call you back when I get to the bay. Belle, end communications” Sam opened the hatch. “Okay, Belle, now—”

  She stopped short.

  Dane Morris glared at her, blocking her exit. He was breathing heavily, his mouth slightly open and eyes wide. He only wore a pair of olive-colored shorts, the bandage around his right ankle standing out against his well-tanned skin.

  “Damned nosy bitch.”

  He grabbed her shoulder, anchoring the two of them in the zero gravity.

  His fist smashed into her nose before she could reach for her pistol. Sam tried to speak, to say anything, to alert Belle to her situation but the pain was overwhelming, the blood clogging her mouth and throat. She coughed once, seeing the red droplets float in front of her eyes, and then there was nothing.

  Chapter Ten

  “Marshal LeClair.” The voice held a trace of fear, something he’d never heard before from an AI. “Marshal?”

  Daniel paused at the entrance to the Belle and bent over, trying to catch his breath. His lungs ached and his pulse pounded in his ears. “Yes?”

  “The captain—” The AI fell silent as if trying to control her emotions. “She has been taken hostage by Dane Morris. Her earpiece has been deactivated.”

  “How the hell did he know?” Daniel pulled his weapon, checking to make sure it had a full complement of tranqs. “We just figured it out. What or who tipped him off?”

  “Morris received a private message a few minutes ago from the Guild. I picked him up on the camera in the cockpit as he attempted to enter the captain’s quarters.”

  Daniel’s stomach lurched. Intentionally or not, the Guild had started this ball rolling right at him and Sam.

  “Tell me what the message was.” He spat out the code again. “Belle, don’t make me—”

  “It was a notification of an investigation into his financial records.” The AI spoke quickly. “The Guild is obligated to inform anyone who is under investigation to allow him or her to seek legal advice and representation.”

  “Or to kidnap the captain to try and get away. Damn it.” Daniel’s fingers itched, compelling him to rub his right hand on his jeans. He needed to get inside the ship, but dashing into the middle of a bunch of clients waiting for their pleasure time could warn the killer of his approach and that’d make the situation worse.

  The last thing he needed was a mass hostage situation. The courtesans could be locked away with their clients; the landing bay stuffed with eager men needed another option. They’d already been recently asked to clear out. Another call over the Belle’s system to leave could cause a riot. There was only so far you could push these men and explaining the situation wouldn’t make things better—he’d be swamped with offers of help to save the sexy Mercy captain.

  A worse scenario was some of them blundering around to try to save her on their own. Major disaster didn’t even begin to describe the possible results.

  “Belle, what’s the standard plan for evacuating the ship in case of emergency?”

  There was a pause. “I can sound a general alarm. That will empty the cabins and the landing bay of customers. It would be loud, however, and certainly alert Morris that we are aware of the current situation.”

  “Hmm.” Daniel weighed the option.

  “It’s supposed to be,” Belle added by way of explanation. “Enough to interrupt the courtesans’ business.”

  He shook his head. “Not an option. I don’t want to hand Dane Morris a ship of hostages. He’s already got the damned captain.” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Can’t make this worse.”

  Etts beeped for attention from his hip. The series of clicks and chirps were short and harried, as if the computer was about to have a seizure.

  “Thank Grendel for me. Better late than never.” He resisted the urge to turn and spit, clean
out the name of the Guild rep from his mouth. “Just got Morris’s financial info. Would have been nice to get that information before they alerted Morris and let him know we were on to him.”

  Etts gave an affirming trill.

  “Belle, alert all of the remaining courtesans to lock themselves in their quarters, keep the clients there. Don’t freak them out, just tell them we’ve got a situation.” His lips turned up in a wry smile. “Again.”

  “Understood,” Belle responded in a flat tone.

  “Belle, how many customers are in the landing bay?” Daniel glanced down at Etts. “Etts, get me Huckness and Trainer on a conference line. I want them in on this.”

  Trainer wasn’t his favorite person at the moment but he couldn’t afford to leave the foreman out of this. Not when lives were at stake. And with Trainer being in the Guild’s pocket he wanted the bastard where he could see him, so to speak. Keeping him in the loop was necessary.

  “We have a dozen men waiting their turn,” Belle replied. “Bianca is still asleep. April and Kendra are entertaining at the moment. There are no planned appointments for Dane Morris and Sean Harrison at this time.”

  Huckness and Trainer burst onto the line simultaneously, tearing at Daniel’s eardrums with a mixture of curses pointed at each other.

  “Shut up, both of you.” The line fell silent. “I need you two to issue a general recall for your men. Use their private links. Keep it quiet but I need them off the Belle right now.”

  “What’s the problem?” Trainer sounded snarky. “You need a little alone time with one of the girls? Make an appointment like everyone else.”

  “We’ve got a possible hostage situation. So don’t fuck with me or I’ll smash your brains into snail snot.” Daniel thought he heard an approving beep from Etts. “You can file your complaints later. I need this done now.”

  “The captain?” Huckness said.

  “Yes.” He wasn’t going to lie to the chief.

  “Damn,” Huckness replied. “That’s gonna be tough.”

  “What?” Trainer said, a note of disbelief in his voice. “The captain’s the hostage? So what do you want us to do?”