Star Cruise_Stowaway

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Star Cruise_Stowaway Page 9

by Veronica Scott


  The doors swept open as if his words had been a signal. Light and sound assaulted Mira’s senses and she was swept with the crowd into the warehouse, moving in a half stampede toward a stage where musicians waited. Holograms and other visual stimuli flashed overhead and across the bare metal walls of the room as the first notes of raucous music blared. Mira’d heard of the band, a legendary assemblage of humans and aliens who’d been famous in the Sectors when she was a kid. The songs were familiar. Jostled by the crowd, she found herself separated from Lindy and the others, so she worked her way through the writhing bodies to the edge of the main floor. Tables and chairs had been arranged on a raised platform, so she climbed the stairs and sat. The music was excellent, relaxing her a bit, as she tapped her fingers to the beat and swayed in her chair. She refused drinks and other amenities. Attending a private concert by this group would be something to brag about for the rest of her life.

  She jumped as someone touched her shoulder. “Ah, here you are,” said the conductor, sitting on the edge of the chair next to her. “Your friends asked me to find you.”

  “Really? Where are they?” Relief that she wouldn’t have to worry about getting a ride to the spaceport flooded her mind. She sat straighter, craning her head to search the crowd below, still dancing, caught in the magic of the reunited superstar band.

  “Your elite group is invited to a special, exclusive afterparty with the musicians,” he said, taking her hand. “To avoid the crush, let me escort you to the party room now before the band finishes their last set and the crowd grows more unruly.”

  Mira tugged, trying to free her fingers from his tight grip. For a panicked moment she feared he was going to refuse to let her go, then immediately felt foolish as he released her. “I-I need to get to my shuttle on time in the morning.”

  “Lindy said you’d be worried. I promise, we’ll ensure the party breaks up before any of you misses the shuttle.” He was holding out his hand. “Coming? I have a few more guests to invite after I’ve made you comfortable in the party room.”

  Reassured to know Lindy was concerned about her, Mira clasped his cold fingers and let herself be drawn along the line of tables. The conductor took her through a door into a long passageway which appeared to lead deep into the building, saying, “Naturally we don’t make the party room easy to wander into. Only the most privileged guests get to mingle with the band to complete their experience.”

  “Seems like a long walk.” Increasingly uneasy, she stopped. “Maybe I should go back to the concert. I can come to the party with Lindy, if you’ll help me find her.”

  He gave her a funny little bow, holding out his hand in a graceful gesture to guide her. “Of course. Whatever you wish.”

  As she pivoted to retrace her steps, she felt a burning sting in her arm and her knees wobbled. Grabbing at the wall, she slid to the floor, unable to stop herself from falling in a heap. The conductor rolled her over with his foot. As she watched through blurring vision, he retracted a stinger dripping with venom into his palm. Squatting next to her, he said, “Now why did you have to go and make trouble? I don’t appreciate having to physically carry you to the storage facility, human. I’ll ensure you’re sold to the bidder who promises to make you suffer the most before you die.”

  Unable to move, barely able to breathe, Mira couldn’t mount an effective resistance as she was lifted and carried through the hall. Going in and out of consciousness from the effect of the venom, she felt the world fading away from her senses in a rising tide of black.

  As the planet’s binary suns rose in the azure sky, Clint bounded onto the shuttle, relieved to hear the shrill voices of the ‘Lites, arguing in the rear cabin reserved for passengers. Pleased they’d arrived on time and with no problems, he scanned the seats in the front, expecting to find Mira among the tired crew members. He was going to tease her about her night out with the spoiled rich kids and apologize for screwing up on the promised dance. But she wasn’t there.

  “Where’s Mira?” he asked Sella.

  The stewardess blinked bloodshot eyes and yawned. “Ask her new friends, in first class. All I know is she didn’t come in with them.”

  Clint went to the cockpit instead. “I need you to stand by—we can’t leave yet.”

  With a puzzled frown, Shane took his focus off the instruments for a moment. “What?”

  “Give me a minute before we leave,” the security officer said. “I think we’re missing someone.”

  “I have my deadline from Captain Fleming to meet,” Shane said. “I can give you two minutes delay here, not one second more. Passenger?”

  Clint shook his head. “Crew. Be right back.”

  He hastened to the private cabin, knocked and entered without waiting for permission. His heart thumped painfully as he scanned the faces and didn’t find Mira. “Where is she? The stewardess who joined your party last night?”

  “Not our problem,” said the nearest man with a shrug. “Ask Lindy – she brought the tagalong.”

  Clint swung to face the girl he indicated. “Well?”

  “No idea. We got separated. When the event was done and we met at the limo, she wasn’t there.” Lindy rubbed her forehead and reclined her seat. “Maybe she met a guy hotter than you and stayed behind, y’know? When are we taking off? Is there any headclear on this bucket?”

  “Where exactly in the city did you go?” With an effort, Clint kept his voice level.

  Staggering a bit, the male ‘Lite rose from his seat, giving Lindy a warning glance. “We can’t help you, man. It was a private party. A limo picked us up and I have no idea where the place was. I don’t backseat drive. If you’re done interrogating us, we’d like to return to the cruise ship now. Go tell the pilot to take off, would you?”

  Biting his lip to avoid uttering a scathing comment sure to get him in trouble for discourtesy to a passenger, Clint left the private cabin. Frustrated, he returned to the cockpit. “I need to talk to my boss.”

  Shane glanced pointedly at the chrono. “Running out of time, my friend. Unless you want to pull rank on me or declare an emergency-”

  “Two more minutes. A girl’s life could be at stake.” Clint got out his AI and called his superior officer, Jake Dilon, head of security aboard the Nebula Zephyr.

  Jake’s deep voice held amusement. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to the ship by now? What’s the delay?”

  “We’re missing a crew member, a stewardess, Mira Gage. I want permission to stay behind and file a missing person report, see if I can find her.”

  “People jump ship on occasion,” Jake said. “Or maybe she was in an accident. We’ll give the local police a report before we make the jump to hyperdrive. No reason for you to do it in person.”

  “Something’s seriously wrong, sir. She left the club all the Zephyr crew were at, driving off with a party of ‘Lites, and now the passengers are here and she isn’t. None of the ‘Lites will say where their destination was last night, and claim Mira wandered off on her own. I don’t know her well but I can’t believe Mira’s the kind of person to abandon ship.” Avoiding the speculative stare he was receiving from Shane, Clint lowered his voice. “I’ve got a personal interest in the lady, sir, and she may have left with the ‘Lites because of a promise I broke. I can’t fly off in good conscience not knowing what happened to her.”

  In orbit miles above, Jake was silent for a moment. “Six hours, that’s all I can spare you. We have a window before departure because there’s a late freight arrival from a major shipping agent. Fleming is ready to go supernova about it. You’ll have to catch a ride to the ship with the freight or you’ll be left behind. I’ll have no choice but to dock your pay for the next leg of the voyage. Might be a demotion if the captain gets mad enough. Hell, the Line could fire you. You sure this is worth it? Or do you want the locals to handle it?”

  Clint didn’t hesitate, driven by an inner certainty Mira was in trouble. He wasn’t going to abandon her. If he’d shaken off Bec
ca the way he should have, claimed the dance he’d promised the shy stewardess last night, he bet she never would have gone with the ‘Lites, wouldn’t have been alone and vulnerable. She’d have been safe with him. Reflecting on his own actions, he had a hard time accepting how meekly he’d allowed Becca to monopolize his time. She was his past. He’d had glimmers of hope Mira might be his future, and he’d let her slip away. “I’m sure.”

  “I’ll tell Cargo Master Embersson he might have two passengers on the tug. Don’t miss it.” Jake lowered his voice. “Keep me posted and call if you need backup. Be careful. I don’t have to tell you this is a damn unfriendly planet once a person travels outside the spaceport zone.”

  Shane whistled as the link was cut from the Zephyr. “Man, you’re putting a lot on the line for a girl you haven’t even slept with.”

  Clint didn’t dignify that with an answer, merely opened the cockpit door and left the shuttle without a backward glance. He had no regrets as the trim craft took off and arrowed into the sky to rejoin their home ship. Ridden by an increasing sense of urgency and concern, he found himself sprinting through the facility to find their company’s office.

  He borrowed a compact groundcar from the CLC Line agent, letting her believe he was on official Ship’s business, and drove to police headquarters. There he ran into a solid roadblock, eventually gaining an interview with one Detective Browlarr.

  “Why are you so sure your crew member is in trouble, Officer Miltan?” asked the detective, sipping his mug of synth caff and toying with a stack of battered, old-fashioned folders. He had two vidcoms continually buzzing for his attention and seemed bored or distracted or both.

  Clint repeated his story of how Mira’d gone off with the ‘Lites, who were now tight lipped about their destination of the night before, including what the activities involved. “I tried calling her but her AI is dead or silenced.”

  “So basically your gut’s telling you this lady got herself in trouble? No facts?” Browlarr frowned and pursed his lips. “What do you want us to do?”

  “Search for her?” Clint kept his temper under control with an effort.

  “Do you know how many transients go through our port on any given day? Crews and passengers? And she hasn’t even been missing a full planetary day. File a report and forget it, buddy, take my advice. If anything comes to light about her, we’ll forward the information to the Line.”

  Rising to his feet, Browlarr escorted Clint from his tiny office, passing him off to a desk sergeant, asking her to take the scant information he could offer about the case.

  “This is a waste of time,” Clint said to the older woman with blue-green hair and matching nails. Refusing to sit, nerves and need for direct action ratcheted to their highest level after the unsatisfactory chat with Browlarr, he stood by the door.“ Just file the missing person report and I’ll see what leads I can follow on my own.”

  The sergeant stared at the holo of Mira, taken from her guild personnel file. “She looks sweet. Same age as my daughter, I bet.”

  Clint paused, hesitating. Clearly the woman was withholding information and he suspected she was trying to talk herself into sharing a key piece of data with him. “Mira’s a lovely person. This was her first cruise with us.”

  “And your captain sent you to try to find her? I wish someone had done that much for my daughter when she went missing.”

  Sensing an opportunity to help Mira, he let her assumption Captain Fleming had sent him slide by uncorrected and followed up on her comment about her own child. “Missing here? On this planet?”

  “No, she worked for a cruise line too. It was in another Sector.” The woman sat tapping her fingers on the desk for a moment while Clint held his breath. “Shut the door,” she said.

  He did so and slid into the rickety visitor’s chair across the desk from her.

  “We’re aware of three designed experiences outside the port city limit last night. Could have been more. Outside our jurisdiction, technically speaking.” She gave him a sharp glance. “We only patrol and enforce within the city limit, you do know that?”

  “Our passengers and crew were warned and reminded numerous times. Mira would have been aware. Designed experiences?”

  “Special events, each more illegal and dangerous than the next. Experiences you can’t get anywhere else. One-of-a-kind moments. The people who arrange them cater to the rich crowd, the bored—”

  “The Socialites.”

  She nodded. “Usually the promoters have good security, either hiring our off-duty officers or bringing in their own armed bodyguard force. No one wants the rich clientele actually coming to grief, even if the whiff of danger is part of their allure.”

  “But?”

  “But every year we have a surprisingly large number of missing persons reports. Oh, not the highly visible people, but others, like your stewardess. My daughter. My guess is a lot more go missing but are never reported. A huge volume of transients passes through our port daily. No one could track them all.” She stared at him. “If you weren’t involved, would anyone from your ship take action? Do more than file a report before leaving orbit?”

  He hated to admit it, not wanting to cast aspersions on his captain and fellow officers, but truthfully, “No, probably not.”

  “Exactly. Word on the street is we may have a nest of Innovana’a slavers operating here. The ringleaders run events, sure, but only as a front for the real operation, which is kidnapping humans and selling them outside the Sectors.”

  “And your authorities ignore the situation, because it takes place conveniently outside the city limits?” His stomach churned at the thought of Mira and other innocents falling into the clutches of the merciless, reptilian bandits.

  “Detective Browlarr’s working the case. He actually has a big task force, including undercover operatives, or so I’ve heard. A lot of credits are floating around, people paid to look the other way. He’s having a hard time making any arrests stick.” She shook her head. “Last guy he brought in was murdered in his cell before he could be interrogated, no trace of the killer on the vids. Takes a lot of credits to achieve that result. Wouldn’t surprise me if Browlarr sent you to me because he knew I’d be sympathetic, given what happened to my Caris on her first cruise. He might think you could provide a break in the case, if you go rogue and try to find this girl.” She tilted her head. “Are you gonna go off on your own investigation?”

  Yes, he was. Clint checked his wrist chrono. Fleming had given him six hours and only four remained. “What can you tell me about the three events?”

  She activated a map of the port and then widened the scope to include the unpoliced area outside the city limits. Three red dots appeared in the badlands. “One was a drug-induced mind experience. Bizarre stuff happens at those, a lot of designer and cutting edge feelgoods, some use of mind scalpels to enhance the experience, but we know the promoter. No ties to the Innovana’a ring. People go to one of her events, they make it home. Unless their brain explodes.” The sergeant didn’t smile. It appeared she was serious. “Leaving two possibilities.” The sergeant tapped a second dot. “This one, which as far as we can tell was on the highbrow side, rare wines and exotic foodstuffs, including delicacies banned in the Sectors. Meat from endangered species. Fish that are deadly poison unless prepared exactly right. Fruits containing lethal parasites. Eat the wrong bite and—” The sergeant drew her finger across her throat before selecting the remaining dot. “This was a concert, one of those groups who maintained for years that no amount of coaxing or pleading by fans could get them together again on the same stage, hated each other’s guts, yet here they were. Credits talk apparently. The band members already flew out this morning on separate ships. No one’ll be asking them any questions.”

  “The ‘Lites aren’t normally interested in food and wine tasting,” he said. “If you’re sure about your drug dealer, then the music venue is where my passengers took Mira as their guest. Do the Innovana’a hold their pr
isoners onsite or move them right away?”

  She raised her hands in a shrug. “No idea. The location changes every time, the organizers never use the same place twice. That’s all I’ve got for you.”

  He leaned over and gave her a hug. “Mira might have a chance, thanks to you.”

  On his way out of the building to reclaim his borrowed groundcar, Clint called his boss. “Mira’s in the middle of a big mess.” Rapidly he recapped the situation as the police sergeant had explained it to him, continuing the discussion even as he was expertly driving through the city at the highest speed the stodgy vehicle could manage. “I’m on my way to the site now.”

  “You have any weapons?” Jake asked.

  “Personal stunner only, and knives. You know I couldn’t bring a blaster onto the planet.”

  “Red and I are deploying to your location, with blasters. You need someone to watch your six. I might bring Jayna too.”

  “I appreciate the offer, boss, but then you’re jeopardizing your career and theirs.”

  “You let me worry about our careers. I can handle the captain. Do you want me to question the ‘Lites?”

  As he navigated through the border delineating the end of the patrolled city limits, Clint considered. “No, I think the passengers told me everything relevant. The cop said guests like the ‘Lites and generational billionaires aren’t in on the scam but their presence at events is used by the organizers to draw wanna-be’s and fans, and the predators cull victims from their ranks.”

  “Nasty but effective.”

  “Let me find the place, assess the situation. If I locate Mira, if I need reinforcements, I’ll call, I give you my word.”

  “I’ll be ready. Dilon out.”

 

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