Transmuted (Dark Landing Series Book 1)

by Robin Praytor

  “Hello, Bertie! You popping by for tonight’s poker game?” Drew knew this wasn’t the case. He could see from the feed source that the Golden Tracer sat two hops out.

  “Security Chief Andrew Vincent Cutter . . . ” Wellington began in formal English, without the slightest accent or underlying hum that for decades was thought to denote a casual conversation between friends. Earth linguists only recently learned the hum was the Bahdaneian translation of whatever other language they were speaking. Fluted tongues and four active vocal cords (unlike humans, for whom only two were active) allowed them to speak two languages simultaneously, as long as one was their own. Humans found this complicated series of hums difficult to imitate, let alone master. But Bahdaneians considered it rude to translate a reprimand, or words said in anger, into the accompanying Bahdaneian.

  Drew sat straighter in his chair; something was wrong. Wellington had only addressed him by his full name and title once—the first time they’d met. “Yes?” Drew said.

  “It has come to the attention of the Board of the Multi-world Coalition for Travel and Trade that there was a security breach with the potential for serious consequences to all Coalition members. Further, your failure to bring this matter to the Board’s attention yourself, and in a timely manner, is a violation of Earth’s membership agreement. Earth authorities and your employer have been informed and requested MCTT to intercede.” Wellington paused, either for dramatic effect, or in expectation of a retort from Drew.

  When Drew sat, quietly waiting, Wellington continued. “The Golden Tracer will arrive at Dark Landing in three days. Upon arrival, by order of the MCTT Board, and with the aforementioned cooperation of Earth authorities and CoachStop Management, I will assume temporary command of the station and initiate a formal investigation. As of this transmission, you are relieved of your position. Chiefs Jameson and Fitzwilliam are being notified as we speak that they are to assume co-command until my arrival.

  “Copies of the allegations against you, the official orders from the MCTT Board, and letters of authorization from both Earth and CoachStop, promising full support and ordering your cooperation, are attached to this feed. Do you understand?”

  Drew understood all right. He nodded, and held the Bahdaneian’s gaze for several moments while he composed himself to speak. “Can you tell me the nature of the security breach?”

  Wellington’s demeanor remained stolid. “I think you know its nature, Chief Cutter. Regardless, it would be inappropriate to discuss over a live feed.”

  “Well, at least you can tell me who gave you the information?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll see you in three days.” Drew ended the feed himself. It was a hollow gesture, but it gave him immediate, albeit short, gratification.

  Drew sat for the next ten minutes, staring at the now-dark viewing panel. It was sobering how fast his circumstances changed in less than three days. And Letty was linked to everything that’d happened.

  She was unaware of his intensifying feelings for her, and she certainly didn’t share them. Why would she, in light of all that’d happened? She’d traveled light-years from her home only to be locked in a detention cell. Her father had died in an unfathomable manner under mysterious circumstances, and she’d witnessed a gruesome murder and suffered an attempt against her own life. Though he doubted she’d recognized it for that. The only feelings she could reasonably have were horror, grief, and fear.

  His com purred. Bad news always travels fast, he thought.

  “Yes, Mattie?”

  “Curtis and I are back, and Doc and Fitz are on their way to the conference room. They want you to join them as soon as you’re free. Do you want Curtis and me there as well?”

  “No. Tell Doc and Fitz I’ll be about thirty minutes. You and Curtis come in here. End all.”

  Mattie and Curtis entered his office before the last “l” in End all. Mattie was speaking to the air, relaying his message to Doc and Fitz.

  Drew called toward the open hatch. “Kyle, if you’re out there, you can hear better from in here.”

  Kyle entered and nodded at him with a sheepish look. The three stood in front of his desk with expressions of children who’d misbehaved. Uncertain of what they’d done wrong, they waited submissively for punishment. The feed from Wellington and simultaneous packets addressed to Doc and Fitz, were enough to alert his staff that a new element had been introduced to recent events.

  Not wanting them to see his inner turmoil, Drew sat back in his chair, doing his best to appear relaxed. But he got right to it. “I’ve been relieved of my position. Doc and Fitz are taking over for the next three days until Albert Wellington arrives, then he’ll be in charge.”

  They didn’t say a word. What could they say? Still, he’d expected some show of protest, or for someone to ask why.

  He continued after an awkward pause. “So, from this point on I won’t be giving any orders.”

  The three still showed no movement and gave no response. Drew was pretty sure he’d been speaking out loud. He started to repeat himself when Mattie bobbed her head in his direction.

  “Yes, Mattie?”

  “Zamora is waiting outside with Miss Taleen.”

  Drew passed a hand over his face as if clearing away cobwebs. “Okay, tell Zamora to take Letty back to her room at the inn. I’ll—”

  Curtis coughed delicately.

  “Curtis?”

  “No disrespect, sir, but wouldn’t that be giving Zamora an order?”

  Now Drew stared speechless at the three of them.

  “Oh, damn it all to hell anyway!” Mattie burst out. “I’m giving Zamora an order to take Letty back to the inn at no one in particular’s suggestion. Does anyone have a problem with that?”

  Curtis and Kyle shook their heads.

  “Thank you, Mattie,” Drew was relieved she’d taken the initiative. “Would you do that now? That is . . . if you want to. When they’ve left, I’ll head over to the conference room to join Doc and Fitz.”

  They filed out of his office.

  He might have suspected one of them had turned him into MCTT, but while all three, along with Doc and Fitz, knew that Letty had accessed Dark Landing’s system, he’d kept secret the circumstances behind her access.

  Wellington specified a security breach at Dark Landing with the potential for consequences of a serious nature for all Coalition members. Surely he hadn’t meant Letty’s access to station systems as much as to the underlying security breach at Taleen Industries, and its potential consequences to the Coalition. MCTT must know Letty was on the station and the one who’d told him about the breach.

  The timing confused him. The incidents on Dark Landing all occurred over the last seventy-two hours. Somehow, in the same timeframe, Muck learned of the security breach, whether on Dark Landing or on Earth or both. They’d deliberated and formed a plan on how to handle the situation, then notified Earth authorities and CoachStop to receive their blessings, and dispatched Wellington and the Golden Tracer. There had to be a leak . . . and a close one. He refused to believe it came from one of his command staff, even Curtis; but at the moment, he saw no other possibility.

  He could hear Mattie speaking to Zamora in the outer office. He didn’t want to face Letty just yet. He’d explain everything to her later, once he learned how Doc and Fitz would react to the news.

  He spent the next fifteen minutes completing a series of tasks and packing his processor bag with a few personal items before heading to the conference room.

  As he walked, Drew continued to ponder Wellington’s feed. Wellington made no mention of Letty, the explosion in the airlock, George Speller’s death, or Hernandez’ murder. Even if he knew nothing about the deaths, certainly Hernandez’ since it’d just happened, he had to know about Letty. He seemed focused only on the security breach. No surprise there; the significance was far-reaching and would be of greater concern to Muck.

  Maybe Wellington’s instructions to his two co-ch
iefs mentioned Letty. Muck would want to interrogate her, and their methods were renowned for their lack of subtlety. Wellington couldn’t know Letty’s life was in danger—or maybe he did. With Drew’s instinctive distrust of Muck taking over, he made a leap: What if the MCTT were somehow involved in everything?

  Instead of answers, he found more questions. Drew decided that when it came to Letty, he’d handle matters his way, not Muck’s.

  Chapter 14: Escape

  When Drew entered the conference room, Doc and Fitz were sitting next to each other on one side of the long table. Without a greeting, he plopped heavily into a chair opposite them. Eyebrows raised questioningly, arms folded across his chest, he signaled them to begin.

  With half his attention still dissecting Wellington’s message, Drew tried to look attentive as Doc took the lead. She proclaimed their bewilderment and outrage at MCTT’s action, declared their loyalty and support, and expressed their assurances that the whole thing was a huge mistake that would be resolved in his favor—and he better damn-well get an apology when it was. Fitz remained silent, vigorously nodding his agreement to everything Doc said in true bobble-head fashion.

  Drew appreciated their sincerity and support, but he was anxious to learn if Wellington’s instructions mentioned Letty.

  Her speech apparently at end, Doc glanced sidewise at Fitz. Fitz continued to nod his head several times before realizing that Doc was no longer speaking. He stopped nodding and cleared his throat.

  He started hesitantly, his discomfort obvious. “Ah . . . Wellington . . . er, Muck . . . MCTT, that is . . . has instructed us to reduce your security level to civilian and restrict your access to Security HQ.”

  “Am I being detained?” Drew tensed.

  Doc interjected. “Absolutely not! They have no right as it is to treat you this shabbily. They wouldn’t dare order us to lock you up.”

  Nodding once more, Fitz continued. “No, no . . . you can come and go as you please. They only said you had to stay away from HQ. I think it’s more to alleviate awkwardness and confusion on behalf of the staff than a concern about something you might do.”

  Drew relaxed a bit, but remained eager to get to the meat of the situation.

  Fitz continued. “I’m going to move into your office temporarily to keep the staff focused on their duties until Wellington arrives. Nothing was said about the ongoing investigation into the airlock incident. We’re a little baffled about that.” Fitz studied the tabletop and avoided looking at Drew. “Evidently Muck hasn’t been informed yet?”

  “I would’ve been filing the incident report on that now and on the Hernandez’ murder. If they have the information, they got it someplace else, not from me,” Drew said, rushing his words. He wanted to ask about Letty. One leg bounced impatiently under the table, waiting for Fitz to broach the subject. He didn’t have to wait long.

  Fitz continued. “Er . . . about Miss Taleen . . . while our orders didn’t mention the explosion and Speller, the MCTT wants to speak to her about the security breach. It wasn’t stated directly, but clearly they assume she’s here at headquarters. We—Doc and I—think it’s best so as not to muddy the waters any further . . . not that it would necessarily . . . anyway, it would be best to bring her back here until Wellington arrives. Of course, we would make her as comfortable as possible and provide every courtesy. She’s been through so much.”

  That’s an understatement. Drew wouldn’t let Letty spend another night in a cell if he could prevent it. He ran his fingers through his hair. The gesture of frustration was becoming a habit. “I guess all I can do now is wait until Bertie arrives to see what MCTT has in mind,” he said resignedly. “I’m sorry to put you guys through this, and I promise I won’t make it any harder on you than it is now. It means everything to me that you’ve got my back. You know I’d feel the same if it were either of you. Can I ask a favor?”

  “Anything,” Doc said.

  Fitz nodded.

  “I’d like to be the one to tell Letty. I owe her that much, and maybe if I talk to her I can make her understand why she has to come back here. I mean it when I say I want to make this as easy for you guys as I can, and for her, of course. If you can give me about an hour with her, after I’m done explaining the situation, I’ll have her security detail escort her back here.”

  “Well . . . I don’t know—” Fitz started.

  Doc interrupted again. “I agree, Drew. You should be the one to tell her. It’s the only civilized thing to do.” She scowled challengingly at Fitz.

  If Fitz had any objections, he held them back. “Sure, that’s fine.”

  “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it. Oh, one more thing. Would one of you please cancel tonight’s poker game?”

  With a hug from Doc and a firm handshake and arm squeeze from Fitz, Drew left them discussing how best to word the staff announcement.

  He needed to stop by his quarters to pick up a few things. He hoped he’d given himself enough time. The hardest part would be convincing Letty to go along with him. He’d have to make up a good story to gain her cooperation. If he told her the truth, he doubted she’d agree to his plan.

  Jonesy was in the corridor arguing with an irate resident as Drew passed. All he heard was, “ . . . scaring the pigeon and . . . ”

  “Shoot that damn pigeon, Jonesy!” he ordered over his shoulder. The complainant’s voice rose several octaves, but the words faded as Drew rounded the bulkhead and doubled his pace.

  At his quarters, he stuffed a change of clothing into a military-styled duffel similar to Letty’s. He added two flashlights, four two-liter water pouches—he would need to pick up more—and the few dried meat and fruit packs he had on hand. He crammed a wool blanket on top, then rolled and secured a second blanket to the outside, making the pack bulkier than he liked.

  At least Doc and Fitz hadn’t asked him to surrender his weapon. He grabbed his security knife and started to strap it to his thigh, but instead added it to the duffel. It was a twin to the one the killer had used on Hernandez. Better if Letty didn’t see it.

  Mentally reviewing a list of anything else he might need, he added a heavy sweater and left for the inn.

  ~ ~ ∞ ~ ~

  He didn’t go straight to Letty’s quarters, but stopped by the front desk first. The clerk greeted him with a welcoming smile.

  “Hello, Chief. What can I do for you?”

  “Hi, Mona. How’s your lovely self?” Keep it short Mona—I’m in a hurry here.

  She tipped her head coquettishly. “I’m well, and you?”

  Drew smiled in response. “I need a room for a couple nights. The environmental controls in my quarters are off-line. Just put me on the same level as Miss Taleen if something’s available there. We should probably keep our security presence contained to one level, don’t you think?”

  “Of course.” After consulting her monitor, and with a twinkle in her eye, she offered, “The room adjoining Miss Taleen’s is available.”

  Drew started to protest, but stopped himself. It’s a little late to worry about people’s perceptions.

  “Great, that’ll work. I’m going up to check on Miss Taleen now. Could you have someone deliver my duffel and case to my room and send up three or four water pouches?”

  Remembering that he wouldn’t have station-wide access much longer, if it hadn’t already been removed, he added, “Oh, and you’d better give me guest access. This is a personal stay, not job-related. CoachStop would stick me in a bunk in the staff quarters before paying for a room. Their budget outranks my comfort.” Drew winked.

  The clerk extended a palm reader for imprint.

  Drew thanked her and left. I hope the rest goes half as well.

  Once on Letty’s level, he tried to remember the name of the staff member standing guard in front of her hatch. The man’s posture straightened as Drew approached.

  “Simmons, isn’t it?” Drew asked.

  “Timmons, sir.”

  “Sorry, Timmons. Everything seem
s quiet.”

  “They delivered her dinner about twenty minutes ago.”

  “Good. I’m here to escort her back to headquarters. We’re going to release her.”

  “That’s great!” Timmons responded, a little too enthusiastically. “She’s very nice, sir.”

  “Yes, she is. When does your shift end, Timmons?” He didn’t have time for chit-chat, but he didn’t want to raise suspicions either.

  “Another hour-and-a-half, sir.”

  “Why don’t you take off now? I’ll tell Curtis when I get back. You won’t be docked.”

  “Thank you, sir. If you’re sure?”

  “No problem. Just don’t stick your head back in HQ tonight unless you want Curtis or Mattie to find some busy work for you.”

  “Right. Thanks again. Much appreciated.”

  “Go ahead then. Have a nice evening.”

  “You too, sir.” Timmons headed toward the conveyer.

  “Two down too easy,” Drew mumbled. As soon as the conveyer door closed, he entered his room and palmed the shared hatch to Letty’s room; a click indicated his side was unlatched.

  He returned to the corridor and knocked on Letty’s outer hatch, trusting they hadn’t pulled his security clearance yet and he could still access her quarters. Once he collected Letty he’d have no more need for station-side access. Hearing her muffled “Come in,” he pressed his palm to the reader, relieved at the soft, opening whoosh.

  He was startled to see Teresa Zamora sitting on the edge of Letty’s bed.

  She jumped up when he entered. “Sir?”

  He covered his surprise. “Zamora, I want to thank you personally for staying with Miss Taleen. When does your shift end?”

  “I’m on overtime now, sir.”

  “Well, you’re relieved. And thank you again.”

  “My pleasure. Good evening, sir.” She turned to Letty, her voice softening. “Goodnight, Letty.”

  “Goodnight. Thank you, Teresa,” Letty said.

  Drew wondered if there was anyone Letty couldn’t charm. Everyone who came in contact with her grew captivated, himself included. Muck might be the exception. He had no desire to find out.