by L. V. Lloyd
Callan stood on the yellow disk, descending into the foyer of the Rising Sun, trying not to get his hopes up. He could hear the noise of people laughing and talking coming from the bar and went in, pausing just inside the entrance, his eyes doing a quick scan around the room to check who was there.
And guess what? There was Mike, out of uniform for once and dressed in his favourite black, sitting on a stool next to... Dane. Dane, who was wearing his grey dress pants and a white shirt, looking hot and classy at the same time. Suddenly the outfit Callan had been so happy with moments before, seemed overdressed and flashy. Both men were smiling, a glass on the bar in front of each of them. His stomach felt as if he had just been kicked. For a long moment he felt like backing out and walking away before anyone saw him.
But he was the Governor, he couldn’t behave like a jealous teenager. And besides, leaving wouldn’t help. He’d only continue to imagine, in rather too painful detail, what they were up to in his absence. Time to be brave and face them head on, so to speak. Too bad if they were out on a date, it was a public place, he had just as much right to be there as they did. He plastered a smile on his face and made his way toward the two men through the small crowd, pausing briefly to respond to peoples’ greetings as he went.
“Lieutenant. Dane,” he broke into their conversation with a big smile, pushing ever so slightly between them. “Can I join you?”
Lieutenant Oliver had been bent over his console, studying the background information available on each of his four corpses in greater detail, looking for something he might have missed, anything however small that might indicate a possible lead.
“Mike? You still in here?” called a cheerful voice. He just had time to shield what he was looking at before Dane Trenwith popped his head around the door. Dane stared at him for a second, taking in the slightly bowed shoulders, the tired eyes. He shook his head disapprovingly.
“Seriously, you need to get a life!” he chided. “Put that away and come out with me for a drink.”
“I can’t, I’ve got work to do,” Mike had protested.
“Maybe, but you also need to get out and meet some of the people you’re supposed to be protecting. Meet them face to face instead of reading about them on that screen.”
Difficult as it was to admit, Dane had a point.
“I can’t go out with you,” Mike blurted. Damn he hadn’t meant to say that so crudely, he must be tireder than he thought.
“I’m not asking you out on a date, just a drink,” Dane answered just as bluntly. “I know you don’t want to get involved.” He drew himself up and put his hand over his heart. “I solemnly swear not to be your friend. There, will you come out for a goddamn drink with me now?”
Mike laughed despite himself. Maybe he was being overly cautious, a drink in a public bar could hardly do any harm. He couldn’t stay isolated in his office all the time, it wasn’t healthy and it wasn’t sensible. He should go, Dane was right, he did need to get out and meet people.
He saw that Dane had already changed out of his dark green AISS uniform. The crisp grey and white looked really sharp with his new white-blond hair and emphasised the blue of his eyes, the only touch of colour about him. For a moment he hesitated, but then he gave himself a mental shake. He might be celibate but he wasn’t dead, surely he could go out for a drink with a hot man and just enjoy the scenery, without needing to take things any further.
And if Mike was being really honest with himself, he wasn’t at all sure that Dane fancied him in any case. One minute he thought he was checking him out, the next he thought he was oblivious. He made up his mind.
“All right, I’ll come with you, just wait a sec for me to get changed.”
Chapter Twelve
Mike had fully intended to circulate around the bar and introduce himself to the patrons but he found himself sitting next to Dane, sipping a Burran ale and not feeling like moving at all. Dane was an entertaining companion, pointing out the people he thought Mike should know and telling scandalous stories about them. Mike wasn’t sure how much the other man was exaggerating but he was certainly getting an interesting perspective on the Asran elite.
“That’s Terry White in the red shirt, the Poseidon under manager who arranged the Hummer for us. He has a wife and two children on Burra and, rumour has it, a very expensive mistress on Capella. The wife doesn’t want to move here because of the kids and he’s happy because that gives him more freedom to spend time with the mistress. I hear he works a lot of overtime,” Dane grinned, then shook his head. “One of these days his wife is going to ask where all those credits have gone and he’ll be screwed.”
“Who’s the man he’s talking to? In the black singlesuit?” Mike had noticed the older man because he was the only person in the bar wearing formal clothes, in fact the sort of clothes he would have expected the Governor to wear, before he met him.
“Ser Paul Keating, manager of Tinto mining. That’s the second biggest concern on Asra after Poseidon.” Dane explained.
“Anything to tell me about him?” Mike asked expectantly.
Dane flashed him an odd glance before he shook his head. “Nothing. Ser Keating’s whole life is the business. The worst I’ve heard about him is that he spends too much time in the office, not enough getting out and about and meeting people!” he grinned at Mike, then drained his glass. “Can I get you another ale?”
The server had just put their fresh glasses on the counter in front of them when they heard a cheerful voice from behind. “Lieutenant. Dane. Can I join you?” and before Dane could react, Callan was dragging a stool up to sit between them.
Dane took in the fact that Callan was dressed to the hilt without blinking, at least with his eyes. Ha! So much for his assumed indifference. He’d bet a month’s pay that Callan had been all set to ask Mike out on a date tonight. Too bad, he’d got in first. When would Callan just accept the fact that he, Dane, was always going to be the better player, that he simply didn’t possess that required streak of ruthlessness? Although he had to admit that when he had seen Mike’s tired eyes over the console, he had forgotten he was there to play off Callan and had just asked him out for his own sake.
In fact, he had been enjoying Mike’s company more than he had expected. With that night black hair, dark grey eyes and milk chocolate skin over fine features he looked good enough to eat. A fling with him would certainly be no hardship! Smiling, he made way for Callan.
Mike was politely making room on the other side, “Of course, sir.”
“For gods’ sake stop calling me ‘sir’,” snapped Callan before he could control himself. Damn, that hadn’t been exactly cool and laid back, he needed to get a firmer grip on his emotions. He cleared his throat and ventured a smile instead, “Couldn’t you call me Callan? Or Rian if you prefer, at least when you’re off duty?”
“Yes sir, I mean... Callan,” Mike answered uncomfortably. He wasn’t quite sure where he stood with the Governor. After their extremely unconventional introduction where Callan had kissed him and Mike had thrown him to the ground, it was hard to get back on a more normal footing! He knew the Governor wanted to be friendly but he also suspected he wanted more than that. And it just wasn’t going to happen. Not while they were both in their respective positions and especially not while Callan was under suspicion.
A little voice whispered that Dane was under suspicion too but that hadn’t stopped him from accepting his invitation to go out.
He squirmed inside but it was true, much as he tried to deny it—he fancied Dane. If things had been different he would have considered making a pass, even though he had few illusions about him. If Dane accepted, which was by no means certain, he knew it would only be for the sex, until the next man he fancied came along. Not that sex was a bad thing mind you, not if that was all both of you wanted. Maybe when this case was wrapped up, and Dane and Callan absolved from any wrong doing he could reconsider ...
He looked up and caught the Governor in the middle of checki
ng him out. Their eyes met. Callan turned away smoothly toward the bar as if that had been his intention all along and ordered an ale for himself. Only a faint touch of colour on his cheeks betrayed him. Unexpectedly, Mike found his own pulse beating a little faster.
Dane was studying both of them, his eyes going from one to the other, a smile on his lips. Mike wondered whether the smile was a fraction forced, but maybe he was just imagining things. He took a sip of his ale. He was pretty sure he should finish his drink and make a polite departure, but... he didn’t think he was going to.
Ser Keating eyed the group of three across the room with suspicion. What was going on? What was the Lieutenant doing there with Rian and Trenwith?
He hoped Rian could keep his mouth shut. This deal was too important to risk any interference at this stage. If Chang could deliver what he had promised, Tinto would be set, set to rival some of the bigger companies. Not only would they have priority access to the processing plant in Kilkenny, a rather rundown suburb of Kapunda, but Chang, in whose territory it was located, would guarantee their safe passage to and from the plant. No more attempts at hijacking. No more sabotage and intimidation. All Tinto had to do was agree and sign the contract. The weekly payment for Chang’s protection was included in the price. After years of fighting off attackers and paying for armed security, the cost of Chang’s services was worth every credit as far as Keating was concerned.
Some people might call it a racket but Keating preferred to think of it as security. After all, who was he hurting? Tinto was getting the benefit of a safe, reliable environment for processing their raw minerals and Chang was getting paid for providing it. The only people missing out were the thieves and gangs who had been launching the attacks and harassment.
However, he was only too well aware that if the Patrol found out, they would be outraged. The Patrol would consider that Tinto was guilty of being complicit in an act of extortion, paying protection money to a street gang. If Lieutenant Oliver, for example, discovered the proposed arrangement, he would feel obliged to interfere and very likely ruin the whole deal.
Chapter Thirteen
Mo Khan smiled in the darkness. It was late and he was alone in his office. He thought this was his favourite time, when everyone else in the building had gone to bed, except for his four guards silently patrolling the perimeter, two outside and two in, monitoring the electronic and laser surveillance. Not that he seriously expected to be attacked, not considering what had happened to the last man who attempted it, but he was always prepared.
He’d checked and re-checked his scheme for faults, but he was pretty happy with it. Of course there was an element of risk, there was no such thing as a foolproof plan, but he thought he’d covered all the bases. And best of all, if he pulled it off, he would be hitting two moons with one asteroid.
Jian Chang was also up late. Unlike Khan, he hadn’t based himself in a fortress, patrolled by guards and monitored by hi-tech security systems. He preferred to be constantly on the move, a room here, an apartment there, never tied down to the one spot.
Jian Chang was not his birth name but it was the most established of the five he was currently using. He collected aliases like other men collected gems. Each one carefully selected and polished, able to be slipped on with a few alterations to his looks and mannerisms. Each backed by immaculately forged IDs and supporting evidence. Physically, he was of average height and build, his black hair and brown eyes the most common colours to be found, although it was a matter of minutes to change them if he wanted to, and his rather plain features were remarkably forgettable. A perfect base to work from.
Someone had once called him a chameleon, after an ancient Earth lizard which changed its appearance according to its environment. For a while he had toyed with the idea of adopting it as a trademark. Reluctantly he rejected the idea, it would be too revealing, defeating the whole purpose.
He had a couple of safe havens in the countryside under different names for when he needed a break from the constant pressure of perpetual charades. Neither of the couples who acted as caretakers in his absence knew any of his Burran identities. As far as they were concerned, he was a wealthy businessman from Capella who was rich enough to afford a country retreat. Having the two hideaways was expensive but safer. There was less chance of a regular trail for rivals to follow and besides, both businesses were self supporting. The guesthouse he owned in Penrith rented out rooms when he was not in residence and the small farm outside Truro was self sufficient. Not only did it provide enough vegetables for the couple running it to live on, but a small herd of pigs provided meat for the town butcher, and skins to sell to an artisan leatherworker.
Chang liked to think that one of these days he would retire there. Keep his tenants, the Barratts, on to work the farm and he could sit back and relax. Maybe he could establish a herb garden to potter in. There was a huge demand for fresh herbs, especially on space stations and ships. Perhaps he could even take the plunge and get married, have a family if it wasn’t too late.
He winced. After all these years, that was still a sore spot. Technically, he supposed he already had a family, even though his son was illegitimate, even though he hadn’t seen or heard from him in over seven years.
Chang could remember clearly the day Rob had confronted him in his study. Serious and trying desperately to be as dignified as possible, the boy had told him firmly that he just couldn’t be what he wanted, that he needed to follow his own path. He’d had the nerve to tell him he was different, that he just didn’t have the same values and he didn’t want to change, even if he could. Chang had been disbelieving at first, thinking it was some kind of sick joke, but the boy had been adamant. The argument had been bitter and painful, and it had ended with Chang issuing a stormy ultimatum. Either Rob recanted and followed the path his father had always expected of him or he would have to leave and never come back.
He hadn’t been prepared for Rob to take him at his word. In ten minutes Rob had packed his bag with a few essentials and walked out, his face pale but determined. He’d be back, Chang told himself, it was just a rather severe case of teenage rebellion—Rob would come home soon and everything would go back to normal. But he hadn’t. Over the next few weeks and months, Chang had tried to find him but it seemed the boy had disappeared into thin air. He had changed his name and left Burra entirely.
Now, seven years later, Rob could be absolutely anywhere. Chang didn’t even know if he was still alive.
Callan was on his fourth ale, feeling happy and relaxed. He noticed that unfortunately, Mike was being sensible, sipping his second drink slowly, pacing himself. Callan wondered if Mike had noticed their knees were touching under the bar. Mind you, Dane’s thigh was pressed against his on the other side, they were all very close. He drew his stool in even nearer, now he had Mike’s thigh pressed against his leg as well. It felt warm and friendly, the three of them together.
Maybe he should be happy tonight with what he had, not try and rush things by making a pass. He sipped his ale, enjoying the closeness of his best friend and the man he wanted to be his next lover, chatting idly about their favourite holovids and exchanging funny stories. It felt good, really good.
Of course, on the other hand, if Mike showed even the slightest hint of interest he’d be in his bed before either of them blinked.
Callan felt a slight buzz from the device on his wrist.
He looked at the message in disbelief. No! Not now, please. He looked again but the message was still there on his wristcom. Fuck!
Reluctantly he put his glass back on the counter. “Sorry guys, I’ve got to go. Business.” He looked at each man apologetically.
“Do you need me too?” Dane asked half-heartedly, assuming the call concerned AISS.
“I don’t think so, not yet anyway.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Callan cursed silently. Damn he should have said “yes”, now he’d be leaving the two of them alone together. He was pretty sure Mike was determined to stick to
his self-made promise about not getting involved with either of them, but... he could still feel the warmth of his thigh pressing against his. Their shoulders brushed when either of them reached for their drink. He wasn’t exactly keeping his distance at the moment. Damn.
Chapter Fourteen
Even before Callan had left the room, Dane was leaning toward Mike, moving the stool closer. “Now where were we?” he murmured with a smile. “Can I get you another ale, or something stronger this time?”
But Callan’s departure had broken the spell. With some reluctance, the Lieutenant realised he was in danger of becoming a little too relaxed. He’d enjoyed himself immensely but it was nearly midnight, time for him to go home. Alone.
“Sorry,” he apologised. “I should be going, too. It’s a working day tomorrow.”
Dane rose to his feet at the same time with a sigh. “You’re right. I suppose I should head home as well. Sounds like there might be a job on the horizon.”
He followed the Lieutenant out of the bar, and went up to the surface with him on the yellow disc. When they reached the top, Dane took a quick look around, checking that there was no-one in sight. The roof garden was empty, the dim artificial light creating shadows.
“Can I ask you a question?” Dane sounded serious for once and Mike stopped walking and waited.
“Yes?”
Dane moved as close as he could to Mike without touching him. “I hear Callan kissed you out here,” he murmured. “Is that true?”
Dane’s face was tilted up, looking teasingly into the other man’s eyes. Their lips were only centimetres apart. He moved even closer. Mike could feel his breath on his mouth, he smelt like ale and toffee, so sweet. Mike couldn’t think, his brain had turned to mush.
