by M. D. Cooper
Winter scowled as he climbed up a ladder and back onto the deck.
His head filled with Marge’s laughter.
He grimaced at the idea of Bubbs singing.
Winter rushed through the corridors, reaching the galley a minute later. An animal sure had been in there all right; a box of crackers had been dumped out on the counter, crumbs spilling everywhere, and a bowl of fruit lay on the floor, apples and oranges strewn about.
Turning, Winter heard sounds coming from the ArcticFreeze chiller. Sure enough, the door was open, and when he came around the prep station, Winter found himself staring at a cat’s wiggling butt as Mr. Fizzle Pop flung the lid to a food storage container behind him.
Winter didn’t think giving a cat opposable thumbs was a safe thing to do for the human race. Then he ducked to avoid getting hit in the face by a flying onion. There was a pile of crackers on the floor, and he scooped them up into the palm of his hand.
Taking a step forward, he made a clucking noise with his tongue. “Here Mr. Fizzle Pop…I have a nice treat for you…”
The cat’s tail immediately stopped swishing. Still inside the chiller, the cat turned around. It took one look at Winter and snarled, one paw raised in the air, and teeth exposed. A long warbling meow came from its throat. If Winter didn’t know better, he’d have thought it said, “GO AWAY!”
Marge said.
“You heard that too?” Winter asked.
“Seems you don’t like me, huh? It’s OK, I’m not your biggest fan either, fluff ball.”
The cat’s ears twitched. Shit, Winter thought, the stupid thing actually understood him!
Marge said.
Winter felt like screaming. Bested by a stupid cat. He stormed out of the galley calling down to the CSF team.
He sprinted down toward the airlock and saw that it was already open, the CSF team walking onboard with weapons drawn.
Winter couldn’t disagree.
Winter sighed and held his hands in the air. One of the officers gestured at his hand, and Winter realized he was still holding the pot.
“Drop the weapon,” the cop said.
“Weapon? Seriously?”
“Now!”
Winter let the pot fall to the deck where it hit with a clang and rolled against the bulkhead.
“There, I’m unpotted,” he said with a coarse laugh.
A slightly pudgy man with a long mustache stepped forward. “You’re under arrest, Mr. Winter. It seems that’s nothing new for you.”
Winter didn’t say anything, only stared down the man with beady eyes. “Could you at least shut the door? Were you raised in a barn or something, kid?”
The pudgy man snapped his fingers and one of the CSF agents behind him—a woman with a long blonde braid—swung the door shut. As it was closing, the orange and white fluff-ball charged between her legs and leaped out the door.
Winter rolled his eyes as his hands were forced behind his back and snapped together with metal bracers. It figured, right?
CIRCUMSTANCE
STELLAR DATE: 11.04.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: CSF Precinct 3 Chimin-1
REGION: Hanoi System (independent)
Sitting in an interrogation room was becoming a habit Kylie really wanted to break. Nothing good came from being on the wrong side of the table. Especially considering how long she had been waiting.
Kylie got the feeling from Marge that the AI was smiling broadly.
It seemed they were out of other things to talk about, and Kylie decided now was good a time as any to re-start their conversation about Marge’s past.
Kylie said without preamble.
Marge sighed in Kylie’s mind, the sound of it making Kylie think that Marge really wished she’d never spoken up
Kylie replied, nodding slowly.
That struck a nerve with Kylie.
Marge sounded genuinely sad.
Kylie had to admit that the logic made sense, and if it prevented conflicts that was a good thing as well.
Kylie sighed and drew her lips into a thin line.
Kylie sent Marge a warm feeling, a mental hug of sorts.
Kylie was surprised she hadn’t been briefed on that. Maybe Ricket didn’t want to burden her with it.
Marge didn’t reply for a few seconds and Kylie started to wonder if she’d answer at all.
Kylie hated the idea of Marge—of anyone for that matter—being alone for that long. She didn’t know how to apologize for something of that magnitude, even if she wasn’t at fault.
Marge sent a feeling of acceptance.
Kylie wondered if she’d misunderstood.
Kylie wondered why Marge didn’t want the rebellion to know she was still alive. Her brow furrowed.
Kylie didn’t understand that.
A shiver ran up Kylie’s body at the drop in Marge’s voice.
Marge sent a feeling of joy across the Link.
Kylie returned the feeling.
Marge giggled.
The door swung open and Kylie’s attention was diverted away.
Kylie stood from the table as Chief Raynes entered. He avoided eye contact, looking everywhere but at her face. “Your alibi checks out with the time of death of those in the apartment block. You and the others will be free to go.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Chief. I do want to help out as much as I can.”
Raynes’ nose scrunched and his mouth sagged into a deep frown. This time he met her eyes. “You’ll do no such thing. You will board your ship and you will depart. You have two hours to get undocked before the tugs push your ship out of our bay.”
Kylie’s eyebrow arched, and fire returned to her belly. “Now wait a second—”
He waved his hands to shut her up. “You’ve been nothing but trouble. I should’ve listened to my gut and sent you packing the moment those people were killed on the dock.”
“You have over sixty dead in that housing block. I can help you find out who did it. Don’t be shortsighted. I understand you’re angry—”
“Angry doesn’t begin to cut it. We found the killer. No one here needs the help of a Rhoads.”
“Who?” Kylie demanded. Would it lead her to Paul? “I want names.”
“The crew from your ship who weren’t present on the dock yesterday during your assault. We’ve traced the pulse rifle that killed all those people to one you have on board your ship. Winter and Bubbs are in our custody now. Both are to be charged with murder.” Chief Raynes turned and exited the room as though he thought the conversation was over.
Kylie rushed after him. She grabbed the chief’s shoulder, spinning him about. “Winter and Bubbs might be rough around the edges, but they aren’t cold-blooded murderers. I won’t leave them behind. They were aboard the ship when I met Liberty down on the south docks. How else would that explain the Barbaric Queen maintaining its orbit?”
It was a lame attempt, and Raynes called her out on it.
“Pretty sure autopilot was around even back when your monstrosity of a ship was made, Rhoads. Don’t give me any more lip. I’m holding your crewmates as accessories.”
Kylie barely heard Marge, infuriated over how narrow-minded and shortsighted the chief was being.
He moved to the side, about to walk around her, but Kylie held an arm out, blocking his way. “I want a meeting with Governor Winch. He needs to hear what’s going on here.”
“He’s not here. He’s away on business.”
Her eye twitched as she caught a hole in his story. “That’s not what you said earlier. You said you didn’t want to bother him.”
“Because he’s away on business, trying to secure more shipping and investors for Chimin. What your father did, destroying Hubei, it put us on a fast track to bankruptcy.”
“I’m sorry for that, I really am, but if you’re going to railroad a member of my crew—”
“We’re already getting a ship ready to take them to Battia. I don’t have the resources for long-term incarceration of people like them. It’s cheaper to pay them to run the courts, and then they’ll get the labor when your friends are convicted.”
“You say that like it’s a foregone conclusion,” Kylie accused Raynes, finger under his nose.
The chief just shrugged. “It’ll take until tomorrow for us to secure everything as necessary. If you want to aid in their defense, you can go to Battia…if they let your pirate ship land.” He pushed past her arm and continued to the lift.
Kylie drew her lips into a thin line. So, the conversation was over, just like that?
“If you think you can get Winter into a transport ship headed for a prison, you have another think coming. He hates small spaces. Let me talk to him. I can convince him not to cause problems,” Kylie called after Raynes.
Give us a chance to break him out, too.
The chief turned and sighed, placing his hands on his hips as he thought it over. “You try anything…”
Kylie held her hands up in the air. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I respect how the due process works, especially out here on the fringe.”
“Come with me then, but no funny business,” Raynes grumbled and led her down a hall in the other direction. As they turned the corner, she saw Rogers and Ricket being escorted toward the elevator.
Kylie kept her face expressionless, even as she was grinning evilly on the inside.
