by Lynn Rae
“Is there anything attractive about it?” He did his best to look appealing but doubted that she would be impressed since he had cookie crumbs on his shirt and several smears of something brownish-green on his boots.
Del sniffed and glanced over at him. “A few things, but the negatives are foremost in my mind at this point.”
Lazlo fought back the urge to talk with her more. He was getting the impression Del Browen was not the sort of person who could be talked into anything. But he could try to be nice.
“Now you have me worried, since you’re an expert and think it’s too dangerous.” Not that he had much of a choice—his assignment was clear. He’d have to hire Avo Kirk if she declined, and if Kirk refused Lazlo would have to go out on his own. Now that was frightening.
“Maybe I’m trying to up my price. It’s not too dangerous, but it’s difficult. But I can’t…” She slowed and they approached the open and corroded metal gates of her family’s property. “Galaxy help me, but I’ll do it.”
Lazlo grinned with relief and tried to shake her hand, but she was still driving and shook him off. “Great, let’s start planning. I—”
“I don’t want to talk about this here,” Del broke in. “Too many ears and too many relatives.” Del brought the transporter to a halt and hit her datpad a few times. “And I don’t want them to know you’ve hired me for this foolish expedition. They’ll ask too many questions, especially my father. Botheration, I’m just not interested in concocting an elaborate cover story. Since it’s all so secret.” Del Browen hunched her shoulders and looked irritated.
“So what do you want me to say?”
She turned in the seat and looked him square in the face. “You concoct some elaborate cover story. And make it quick.”
Lazlo almost held his breath—she looked so determined and fierce. And she was going to help him. He now had a chance of succeeding at this. Dee Dee bounded up to the transport and did a genuine double take.
“Lazlo Casta! How nice to see you. Were you helping Del? What a gentleman!” She grinned back and forth between them and he had an idea. It would probably get him in trouble with Del, but she had told him to come up with a reason for them to be spending time together. And this reason made perfect sense.
“Yes, I’m trying to get her to go out to dinner with me.”
As Dee Dee laughed and clapped her hands, her older sister turned in the seat and stared at him with disbelieving gray eyes.
“Go out with him, Del. Don’t make him haul trash with you. That’s not romantic at all.” She giggled and leaned his way, lowering her voice and watching her sister. “She’s just not good at this sort of thing. Don’t let her sneak away from you. She’d rather go hide in the hills and look for weird rocks than spend time with a man.”
“Stow it, Dee Dee,” Del growled and hopped out of the transporter, striding toward the back of the open bay, her broken-down boots thumping on the old deck plating. She’d looked angry and embarrassed before she left and Lazlo was worried that his spontaneous idea had been a horrible failure.
“Excuse me.” Lazlo abandoned Dee Dee and began to follow Del. She moved quickly, dodging around stacked crates and stalled vehicles.
“Wait, Citizen Browen. Delphine, please.”
Del stopped suddenly and he almost walked into her. She was small enough that he could have easily knocked her down. He took a step back so he wouldn’t crowd her.
“That’s the best you could do?” She turned around, anger snapping in her eyes. “It’s ridiculous.”
“What, I’m not your type?”
“Don’t joke about this. No one is going to believe you would be interested in me.”
“Your sister did.”
“Dee Dee thinks that everyone is as irresistible as she is.”
“You asked me to come up with a story.”
“Believable, not an utter fantasy.” Del’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright and it would have been nice to think she was excited, but it was more likely that she was both embarrassed and irritated. Not a good combination of emotions.
Lazlo took a deep breath. He’d just gotten her to agree to help him. He shouldn’t be antagonizing her already. She was uncomfortable with the idea so he needed to repair this somehow. “I’m sorry. Are you involved with someone?”
“No, of course not.” She took a deep breath and looked at the deck plate below her dirty boots. “You’re right, I did ask you to come up with a story. But come up with something better than that one.”
“I can do that.” Lazlo thought hard and had a bolt of inspiration. “How about I’ve hired you to help me test surveillance equipment out there? I’ve been working with designing a new layout for the security visual feeds and we just got in some new drones, so it makes sense.”
She smiled and nodded. “That’s very good. Yes, that will work very well.” Clearing her throat, Del took a step his way and Lazlo automatically leaned toward her. “Can you understand why we can’t discuss this around here? There’s always someone lurking about.” She said all of this in a rush, her voice quiet and strained.
“I understand,” he agreed, keeping his own voice low. “And we do have to be discreet. The sheriff will likely not be pleased that we’re doing this.”
Del sighed and shook her head. “Now you tell me. The last thing my family or I needs is to get in trouble with Harata. You have no idea how difficult he could make our lives if he wanted to.”
“You’re right, I don’t have any idea. But I promise I’ll do everything I can to keep you and your family away from his attention.”
“Funny, I actually believe you mean that.” Del narrowed her eyes and studied him for a moment, shoulders marginally less tense than they had been. Lazlo guessed he had been given a second chance.
Chapter Three
Looking at his datpad, Lazlo sighed. Del had sent him a list of supplies required before they set out the next morning and he was frustrated. It reminded him of the equipment lists he’d had at the Academy for field exercises. And those had been for classes like underwater combat techniques and free-fall target practice.
Del’s attention to detail would have impressed his training sergeants. Over forty-nine items listed and Lazlo hadn’t managed to locate more than thirty. He considered the idea of bringing along a few of his experimental bots, but wasn’t sure if Del would think they were dead weight. It was late and he needed to sleep because she expected him at their rendezvous, fully loaded at first light.
His apartment was a wreck—drawers and closet doors open, storage boxes rifled through, stacks of clothing and accessories covering most flat surfaces. Lazlo wasn’t a tidy person by nature but the current chaos was unsettling. He kept thinking that some vital thing he was missing was hidden beneath the clutter.
There was a barely audible noise that he recognized as the chime of his datpad. Where had he left it? Lazlo began to shuffle through his misplaced belongings, the datpad’s lonely call growing louder and louder until finally he located it underneath a stack of undershirts.
Glancing at the callers, Lazlo realized that the day’s data pod must have transferred through. There was a message from his brother and judging by the tally, it was a long one. And a message from Serra, his former girlfriend—much shorter, of course. Glancing at the debris around him, he decided he needed a break and would be better able to pack and clean up once he’d heard what his brother had to say. Serra’s message, however, would not make him feel better at all. Just seeing her name on the message made him cringe.
Slumping on his sofa next to some coiled climbing rope, he opened the first message, his brother Mart’s smiling face suddenly appearing in front of him.
“Lazlo. How are you? I’m at Peli Harbor with the crew on the Regenta and wanted to get this message off before we start to celebrate.” The peachy waters of Freton were visible behind his brother’s head and Lazlo could make out some of the decking of the Regenta, the luxury cruiser that was his fami
ly’s latest venture. His mother had joked about reverting to the family’s distant legacy of piracy when they had designed it and she wasn’t far from wrong—the ship wasn’t designed for attack and looting, but rather gambling, mood-altering and physical pleasures, all of which separated people from their money quite effectively.
Evidently his brother was on board for the inaugural cruise, which was no surprise since he was as devoted to amusement as he was to making money.
“Everything is going well here. The family is all healthy, say hello, all of that, and Dooney and Bet are doing really well in school this section. This ship is amazing. You would love it, so take a vacation and get back here to see it.” His brother sighed and leaned closer to the screen. “I still can’t believe you would prefer arresting farmers for spilling manure to being here with our ocean and beautiful women. There are some upper-level females on board right now. I’m sure you could find someone to settle down with, produce a few cousins for my girls to pal around with.” Yet again, his brother was promoting the idea of marital bliss and fatherhood as a good goal for Lazlo. Mart had never understood Lazlo’s inability to stay in one place and with one person. Lazlo didn’t understand it himself. He wanted it but it just never seemed to happen.
“But I know, I know, you aren’t in any sort of situation to be thinking about it. All of your transfers and training and strange work hours. And after what happened with that woman, I can’t blame you. I’m sorry, bad topic.” Mart knew about Serra and sympathized. He understood how humiliating the whole situation had been for Lazlo. With the advantage of nearly a year apart, Lazlo finally understood what a damaging person Serra had been. Everyone had warned him, but while he’d been ensnared in her manipulations, he’d been oblivious, concerned only with helping her and not protecting himself.
But his brother shook his head, then he laughed. “So maybe you’ve found some rustic beauty to cozy up with? I hope you have. You need something to occupy your time out there in the fields with all of those harvesters and grain bins. What is Sayre’s biggest crop? You told me last time. Is it palm nut oil? Or taro root? Neither one even sounds appetizing. In any case, I hope that your job is going well too, much as I don’t understand that one either. People still can’t believe my little brother is in the security service, and an officer no less. You’re definitely unique for a Casta. Are things better with that new commander of yours? Your last message indicated he might be out to get you. We have ways of dealing with that, you know.”
Lazlo’s brother picked up the recorder and panned around the deck of the Regenta—red wood, bright white trim, shiny titanium fittings and beyond it all, the waters and islands of Freton in all their appealing beauty. Lazlo felt a sudden stab of homesickness.
“We’d love to see you. Come home for a few days, relax, eat and drink well, have some fun. See our new ship, take a short cruise. Spend some time with your nieces. Bring along a farmer girl if you have one.”
And with that, his brother ended the message, leaving Lazlo to contemplate his life. Here he was, in a small apartment carved out of a cliff, alone. Working many hours in a stressful job, surrounded by equipment he would need in the morning as he ventured off on a perilous assignment guaranteed to fail. Even his hired expert had low expectations. Del had ended her list of requirements with a dour warning that they would certainly need something they hadn’t packed.
She was a strange one. What would she think of the Regenta? Or of the self-indulgent lifestyle of Freton? She’d probably be shocked and then try to hike away into the hills.
Lazlo thought about the next message from Serra and felt guilty for not wanting to listen to it. But he should—otherwise it would bother him all night and he wouldn’t sleep. He clicked it open and watched his former lover’s haggard face appear. The background wasn’t the beautiful landscape of Freton, but rather the plain white wall of the clinic where she was being treated—not for the first time—for addiction disorder. Serra looked undernourished and shifty, her usual appearance ever since she’d been incarcerated for theft and then committed to the clinic this latest time.
“Lazlo, how are you?” Serra managed to look interested for a second, but then her focus shifted back to its usual place—right back to herself. “I’m not doing well here. They aren’t giving me the correct medication and no one has been by to order any changes for me. I don’t know where anyone has been and my mother told me to submit. Submit, that was her term, submit to their procedures here. It’s unacceptable and I need you to come—”
Serra disappeared. The clinic only offered a set amount of time for the patients to communicate with the outside. It was one of their many techniques to encourage the patients to improve self-control.
Despite her moans for help, Lazlo wouldn’t and couldn’t stop everything and make ten jumps to see to Serra’s perceived needs, even if he were still involved with her. Which he wasn’t and he’d made that clear to her several times during her lucid moments. And Serra didn’t want him back anyway. He was just one more person on her list of those to use. She’d never been faithful, or free of controlled pharmaceuticals, in the whole time he’d known her. Serra was being cared for perfectly well even if it wasn’t the care she thought she should have.
Lazlo sighed and wished fervently that this time the treatment would work, that this time the doctors would be able to find just the right spot in the young woman’s brain and tweak it just enough to eliminate her inability to control herself when it came to so many things—drink, drugs, sex, gambling. She was a master at destroying herself and others with each and every vice.
If only she could be well. Her poor mother deserved a child who wasn’t going to steal from her and blame her for her troubles. Lazlo was just coming to accept that he deserved to fall in love with someone who treated him well in return, not someone who had betrayed him and damaged his reputation with every move she made. His counselor would be so pleased.
Not for the first time, Lazlo wished he had a friend to talk with about it—to express a little of the frustration and guilt, to hear someone say it wasn’t his fault. His counselor cared, but it was just professional concern. He looked around at all of the disorder in his life and felt overwhelmed. The door pinged with the custom tone he’d programmed the day he’d moved in and he rose and walked over.
Checking the monitor, he saw his mentor Detective Chin, smiling and holding up one of the items Lazlo hadn’t been able to locate from Citizen Browen’s list—a respirator filter. Feeling much better, he opened the door and caught the faceplate as his coworker tossed it to him, then sauntered into the apartment, taking in all of the debris with quirked eyebrows.
“What the crack is all this?” he drawled, his Obregon slur elongated for emphasis. Chin was dapper, contained and darkly suspicious. Lazlo always felt like a badly shaved bear whenever they went out together—he was lumbering and too eager to please while woman after woman bypassed him and fluttered to Chin’s side. But the man was resourceful—witness the filter Lazlo had needed. And Chin knew all there was to know about how things worked on Sayre, which was a great asset to Lazlo.
“I’m trying to pack for a hike. That’s why I needed the filter and messaged you when I couldn’t find mine.”
“No wonder you couldn’t find it. This place is a mess.”
“It’s not so bad. It’ll be fine once I pack my bag for tomorrow.”
“I’m sure packing a bag will make a dent in it.” Chin wandered into the kitchen and opened the chiller, looking for an ale, Lazlo would bet. Soon enough he returned, shoving aside a pile of uncoiled rope and taking a seat on the sofa as Lazlo looked over the filter.
“Thanks again for the filter. Have you used this?”
“Never. I don’t plan on ever leaving this port until I can ship off. Therefore, I have no need for that fungal filter. This planet has more infectious spores than any place on this arm of the galaxy.” Chin took a drink and peered at Lazlo. “Why do you need all this equipment?”
/> “I’ve been assigned the task of testing some new surveillance equipment. In the Outlands.”
“From Sekar? Sounds perfect for you and your little bot friends. Isn’t Trixie going with you?”
“Can you imagine Trixie Rupti out there in the dust, toting a bag of gear all day?” Trixie was a mutual friend, electronics officer for security, and as Detective Chin very well knew, utterly incapable of existing without close access to clean bathrooms and coffee bars. Chin grinned at the idea and took another drink of his ale.
“No. Trixie would have a blister in about ten meters and become dehydrated in about thirty.”
Chin grinned wickedly, enjoying a large swallow of Lazlo’s last beer. He began to look through the ropes, coiling them as he separated strands. “Are you going out alone?”
“No. I hired a guide—well, actually she’s a subcontractor with security now, so not technically my guide.” Lazlo wondered why the detective was so interested in what he was going to be doing, but Chin was a curious person, which was what made him a good investigator and someone from whom Lazlo could learn a lot.
The commander’s edict to tell no one about the real reason he was going out weighed on Lazlo. Surely it wouldn’t be wrong to confide in a fellow security officer. But orders were orders and Major Sekar had given him no reason to doubt it.
Chin flexed some titanline and grinned again. “She, huh? That has some potential.”
“No it doesn’t. I’m not getting involved with anyone here, no matter…” Lazlo trailed off, not wanting to talk about how much he was starting to like Del Browen and how he was looking forward to tomorrow for some different reasons. Reasons that he shouldn’t. She was working for him—well, with him—and thinking about her in any personal way would not enhance the potential for success in this mission. In fact, it would create problems and he needed success, not another inappropriate entanglement with a woman. Even if Del Browen was strangely fascinating in her gruff and tough way.
