I was link today, with Jilly as my cover and back. I liked working with Jilly. She was neat and precise and deadly—most of the time and against most people.
A year ago she was full of herself. We all were, but it turned out she was really overconfident in her combat skills. Back then, we were working a pair strolling up from the docks. We rarely worked spacers and never worked the old-timers, but these two didn’t look dangerous. The spacer was youngish and his friend was an inner system fop. They didn’t look like anything to worry about. We were just going to lift some creds.
The setup was perfect, and Jilly was taking point. We were anticipating an easy take. Jilly drifted across their path and spun in to threaten with her knife. The next thing we knew she flew into a wall, and the spacer was pocketing her blade. None of us even saw what happened.
Then they had stepped onto a slide ramp and were gone. I don’t even think they had broken off their conversation. Jilly had spent the last year obsessing over that one spacer and honing her combat skills from anyone who would teach her.
Seemed fate we had gotten this assignment. The target we were looking for now was the spacer from a year ago, Leland Nota.
“Remember, Jilly,” I whispered at one of our near passes, “locate and report. No contact.”
“I know,” she whispered, glee breaking through.
I shook my head and headed for a public com. It was time to check in.
Jilly leaned casually against the wall while I made the call. I was halfway through the check-in procedure when she straightened up suddenly. I caught the motion out of the corner of my eye and turned my head to look at her.
We’d had too many years of practice for her expression to change, but I could tell that something was up. She walked past me and whispered. “Go ghost.”
I stiffened and turned back to the screen.
“Got to go, Casper. See you later.”
I cut the connection while my contact was still reacting to the code word.
By the time I had turned from the com screen, the net was already unraveling as the Pack drifted into side corridors, sped up, or slowed down, dropping out of the fragile communication web. Jilly had called the “ghost”; the Pack’s automatic response was to go to ground.
I tried to spot Jilly in the crowd, but with the shifting mass of multi-species singles and groups, it should have been impossible. I hesitated. The proper response to a ghost call is to vanish and make your way back to a rendezvous far from here. Then I spotted her; she was tailing a pair of Trade Pact Enforcers headed back the way we had come.
I cursed and hurried in her wake, trying to catch up without attracting attention. Most of the shoppers on this level strolled, occasionally stopping to check out a display or enter a shop. No one was rushing anywhere, and that made me stand out. I slowed a little and tried to keep Jilly in sight.
Why the hell was she tailing enforcers, for Deity’s sake!
* * *
• • •
I tailed Jilly while she tailed two enforcers. Slowly, I managed to gain on her without drawing attention to myself. As the minutes stretched, my tension grew. I was standing out in the casually strolling crowd. Like a flashing light hovered above my head, proclaiming to all that I didn’t belong.
Then the enforcers turned off into a side concourse. I was preparing to trot forward to catch up to Jilly before she turned the corner to follow them, when she dodged the opposite way and fell in behind a group of Tolians.
I stopped in shock, then skipped ahead to match the crowd’s pace again.
Frat! She hadn’t been tailing the enforcers, she’d been using them as cover.
Starting to angle in Jilly’s direction, I kept my pace unchanged, all the while studying the crowd ahead. Eliminating the Tolians—she wouldn’t be hiding behind the people she was tailing—it could be anyone. There was an amazing amount and variety of sapients in the concourse ahead, in almost equal parts of shoppers, spacers, local workers, and some that were hard to classify.
I don’t know why, but I concentrated on the spacers. There were singletons and pairs in a half dozen species: a trio of Scats; a sea of feathery antennas marked a bunch of Drapsk; a pair of humanoids in sealed spacesuits clumped along in a straight line.
I glanced back over to Jilly to see if I could spot who she was watching, but she was gone!
I stumbled to a halt and looked back to see if she had turned down a side corridor or stepped into a shop. Someone bumped into me from behind and muttered what had to be curses in a language I didn’t know, then pushed past me.
I twisted back and forth, stretched on tiptoe trying to spot her in a moving crowd of sapients, most of whom were taller than both of us.
Abruptly worried, I started to run, weaving in and out of shoppers. I was drawing attention from everyone, but I didn’t care.
Then I saw her. She was angling in toward the three Scats, in her hunter’s stalk. Her gait didn’t look unusual among this crowd, but to anyone who had seen her work before, it was unmistakable. Even then, there was something different about her attitude, something almost desperate.
I don’t know what Jilly had been planning, but bad luck tripped her up—literally. A drunken Human staggered out of a bar and bumped into her. She tripped and rolled, then bumped against the leg of the middle Scat she had been stalking.
The creature whipped around with unbelievable speed and pinned her to the ground with a clawed foot on her wrist. Jilly winced.
“What have we here?” the creature hissed. “Has-ss fate delivered my next meal right to my claws-sss?”
“Frat,” I muttered. I changed course and joined the crowd that had started to gather.
“Leave me alone, you murderer!” Jilly shouted.
The crowd started to whisper comments, but I ignored them and pushed as close as I could to the action. Jilly was darting glances around those ringing her in. Her face showed fear. From our long association I could tell most of it was feigned. Most, but not all. In addition, was there satisfaction?
I was not in the inner ring of spectators, but I could see most of the action between the shoulders of the two in front of me. When Jilly’s eyes swept my way, I stuck my hand between and gave her one of the Pack’s hand signs.
She didn’t react. Had she seen my signal, or was the crowd too chaotic for her to pick it out?
The Scat reached down and pulled Jilly up by the front of her tunic until her feet dangled a full foot off the ground. The other two stood back. “You s-sssmellll deliciousssss, s-ssoftflesssh.” A thin tongue flicked out between his fangs.
I stiffened. Everyone knew Scats were fond of warm-blooded prey; still living, if they could get it. I racked my brain for any way to get Jilly free of those claws. I felt sure she could escape in this crowd if it would let go of her for just an instant.
I made a swift inventory of my possessions, but I wasn’t hopeful. I had only a small folding knife, unsuitable for a weapon, a few coins, and a folded wad of credits, plus a tiny alarm screamer. We had headed out on a search and locate mission, so I’d left any significant gear behind. Maybe I could distract it somehow.
“What’s going on here?” a gruff but polite voice interrupted my desperate attempts to come up with a plan.
A Human in station security uniform pushed her way through the inner ring of observers and planted herself in front of the three Scats and their helplessly struggling captive. Great, it was Hutton.
“Ahhh, cons-sstable,” Jilly’s captor said, “this Human as-ssaulted me while I was about my lawful business. I claim it in reparation.”
“I didn’t attack him,” Jilly blurted out. “I tripped, and he stepped on me!”
“Did you step on her?” Hutton asked, eyes keen. Most Plexis Jellies we could work around; not this one.
“Ahh, only to keep it from essscaping after its-ss unwarr
anted attack,” the Scat said, jaws gaping open in what could be a smile or threat or both. It was hard to be sure.
Jilly stopped struggling. “He’s a murderer!”
I groaned to myself. What was she doing now?
“Murder?” Hutton echoed. “What’s this about?”
“The creature is-ss mad,” the Scat said.
“He killed my mother!” Jilly shouted. “He ate her in front of me. He said she was tough and stringy!”
One of the other Scats broke in. “Does-sss it object to the eating or to the ‘ss-sssstringy?’” All three broke into their chittering laugh, foam oozing between their fangs.
“When and where was this?” Hutton demanded, frowning at the Scats.
“Five years ago,” Jilly said, “on Lorelei.”
Ah? I thought, That was before she was recruited into the Pack.
“If it didn’t happen onstation,” the constable dismissed with a wave, “it’s none of our business. Take it up with the enforcers.” She switched her gaze to the Scat holding Jilly. “Sounds like what happened here was an accident. Let her go.”
“What about my reparations-sss?”
“Show me the damage, and I’ll consider it.” Hutton crossed her arms and stared the Scat in the eyes.
He lowered Jilly slowly to her feet and reluctantly pulled his claws from her tunic.
“You,” the constable said to Jilly, “what’s your name?” Her hand was poised over a noteplas.
I flicked my screamer and tossed it over the heads of the crowd. The ear-piercing wail started when it hit the floor. Everyone turned to see the cause of the new disruption in the day’s shopping. Hutton pushed out of the crowd at a run.
I was keeping an eye on Jilly, ready to run interference for her escape. I was shocked to see her punch the Scat in the middle of his chest.
The creature’s blazing reflex trapped her hand in place and he leaned in close to her with dripping jaws.
“A pitiful attack like that wouldn’t even hurt a hatchling.”
Then I heard it. The tooth-twisting whine of a force blade powering up.
The Scat froze in shock and I spotted the small butt in Jilly’s hand.
Jilly always carried a force blade she had found somewhere. It was old, almost obsolete. It worked, but took a significant second or two to form the blade, and while the field was stabilizing, anything in a six-inch cone in front of it was subjected to the spinning, twisting force. And the weapon was trapped against the Scat’s chest by his own strength.
“Die!” Jilly shouted into the creature’s pain-shocked face as its internal organs were shredded.
The crowd was fracturing in a screaming mass, those in front pushing back to escape the mad teenager with the deadly weapon.
The other Scats reached for Jilly, but she slashed the now fully-formed blade out of their dying companion and through the arm and chest of the one on her right, then she was dashing in a crouching, dodging run through the crowd.
The uninjured Scat dashed off in pursuit, bulling his way through the crowd where Jilly slipped nimbly between obstacles.
I was about to start my own pursuit when a heavy hand grabbed my shoulder and held me in place.
I twisted my head to find Constable Hutton glaring at me while speaking into a handcom. “Two injured sapients, Level thirty-five, sector blue, concourse seven. Major injuries, med-techs required.”
She clicked off and turned me around with irresistible strength. “What happened here?” She gave my shoulder a light shake for emphasis.
“I–I’m not sure.” I made certain to stammer. “I think they were arguing over who got to eat her and someone pulled a ’blade. She got free in the fight and ran. The third one chased her.”
“Which way?” Hutton shook me again, a little harder. I could see anger simmering in her eyes, but against who I had no idea.
“Th–that way, constable.” I pointed in the direction Jilly had fled, confident that she wouldn’t be found in that direction by now.
“Stay here and make a statement to the med team.” She dropped her hold and pounded off in the same direction as the Scat and Jilly.
Slumping a little in case anyone was watching, I eased back through the ring of sapients watching with morbid curiosity. I took another step back and left. Then I waited a long moment, turned, and walked toward the shops across the concourse.
My saunter turned into a purposeful stride as I heard the sirens on the aircar, modified for station use, dashing toward the site of the fight. Med-techs were the only allowed air transport onstation, and they hugged the ceiling whenever they were dispatched.
I turned into a side concourse and increased my pace. I had to find Jilly and get her off the station. Plexis wouldn’t let a murder or two go unavenged. It was bad for business. If the shoppers felt unsafe, they’d stop coming.
The Pack were all encouraged to find their own hidey-holes for emergencies. In general, they were kept secret, just on principle, but you might share one for a close friend. One, but never all. Jilly’s one hideaway I knew, two levels down, but would she go there or to one of her other places? Or would she go to my place?
I increased my pace and headed to my closest hidey. Jilly knew it, and it was closer than hers anyway.
* * *
• • •
After a half hour walk, I reached my hidey and approached it carefully. This was a real, official residence, unlike Jilly’s. It took a significant part of my income to pay rent on this place, small as it was. I had a couple more places I could go to ground, but this was the most comfortable.
I slid inside and gave the room a quick scan. I spotted Jilly immediately. She was crouched in the corner behind the bed.
“Jilly!” I rushed around the bed and stopped a step away.
She was rocking with eyes closed and tears running down her face.
“Jilly?” I asked gently. “What’s wrong?”
She lunged up, wrapped her arms around me, and started sobbing.
I put my arms around her and held her until her sobs slowed and stopped.
She didn’t step back, but she started talking in a muffled voice. “He’s dead. He’s finally dead. I never thought I’d ever see him again. And now he’s dead—and I killed him.”
“You’ve never talked about your past before you arrived onstation,” I said hesitantly.
“We were homesteading on Lorelei,” she said without moving out of my hold. “We lived in the back of beyond, but we had a nice piece of property. We were in town stocking up on supplies when the pirates hit. My dad was killed, along with anyone who tried to pick up a weapon. The survivors were herded into an empty hall while they stripped the town. I can’t imagine there was all that much of value; it wasn’t a large town, but they stripped it anyway.”
Her arms tightened.
“Mother was shielding my sister and me. Others were the same, huddled in small groups. I guess after their work was done, they wanted a snack.”
I rubbed her back as she shuddered, the only comfort I could offer.
“Maybe a dozen of them came in and started dragging people out of their groups. That one took our mother. Bren screamed and twisted out of my hold to attack him. He killed her instantly. Someone grabbed my collar which was the only thing that kept me from following her example.”
She stepped back and shifted her hold to my arms. She looked at me through haunted memories.
“After they left, one of the surviving families wanted to take me in, but I couldn’t stand the thought of staying there. I sold our homestead and bought passage aboard the first ship, ending up here.
“I never thought I’d see him again. I didn’t want to see him again, but when I saw him passing by, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Sit down,” I said. I gently pushed her toward the bed and turned to th
e little closet. I started shoving clothes into a small jump bag I kept here.
“What are you doing?” Jilly said.
“We have to get you offstation. Hutton won’t let a murder pass. They’ll be looking for you already.”
“I don’t have money to buy passage.”
“So what were you planning?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I was panicked. All I could think of was getting to you.”
I finished packing the clothes, shoved a few toiletries on top, and closed the bag.
Pulling her to her feet, I said, “Come on. We’re leaving.”
“Where are we going?”
“Your hidey. You need some clothes if you’re going to run. Or is there a better place to pick up necessities?”
“No, that place will do.”
“All right, let’s go.”
* * *
• • •
Jilly’s hidey was a tiny room off a dingy service corridor sandwiched between the back entrances of two shops. I suspect it had once been nothing but an alcove, but in the past someone had walled it off and installed a hidden door. Whether it was Jilly herself or someone else, she never said.
I checked for watchers, released the catch, and pulled Jilly inside.
The room was big enough for a pallet and a single cupboard. I knew that she kept a few changes of clothes and some c-cubes for emergencies.
“Hurry up and pack,” I said.
Jilly rushed to the cupboard. She pulled out a shoulder bag and started shoving clothes and a few other items into it. Then she moved to the bed, whipped out a knife, and made a couple of slashes across it. She reached in and transferred an item or two I couldn’t make out to her bag.
“Ready,” she said.
I looked around. The place looked like a Brexk had run through it.
“Whoever takes this place over from you will have a job to put it in order first,” I said.
The Clan Chronicles--Tales from Plexis Page 11
