Wanderer - Echoes of the Past

by Simon Goodson

  “There you are! I was getting worried. Come on.”

  A hand grabbed her by the upper arm and started her moving. It belonged to a man she had never seen before. He looked to be in his forties, though his body was strong and he moved lightly on his feet. Sal had taken several steps with him before she thought to stop and ask what was going on.

  “I don’t know…”

  The man pulled her forward, making her stumble.

  “Don’t stop,” he hissed quietly. “Don’t struggle.”

  Now Sal was scared. The grip on her arm was like an iron band. She started to look around for help.

  “What do you want?” she managed to say. “My friend will be here any moment. If you hurt me in any way she will tear you apart.”

  “What? No. I’m trying to help you. You need to trust me, for a couple of minutes at least. Standing there lost and crying you were a blatant target. Several men were closing in on you. At least two of them are still following, and probably several more. We need to get to a better patrolled section of the market.”

  Sal glanced over her shoulder. She saw three men pushing their way through the crowds, eyes fixed on her.

  “Three,” she said. “Three men at least.”

  “Shit. We aren’t going to make it then. There will probably be a couple of others too. Do you trust me?”

  “What? No! How do I know you’re not with them.”

  “Fine. In about a minute you’re going to have to make a choice… risk trusting me for a few minutes, or take your chances with those who are following.”

  “But I’ve got no money, nothing for them to steal!”

  “Of course you have. There’s you. They’ll take you and ship you off as a slave.”

  Sal’s heart sank at that thought. But could she really trust this man?

  Suddenly he led her to the left, cutting between two stalls, then around another and past two more. He pulled her between another two stalls. There was barely enough space between them to squeeze into. Halfway through he dropped down, dragging Sal with him, and wormed his way under one of the stalls.

  Sal stopped for a moment, weighing her options, then followed. She was certain those following had something unpleasant planned for her, whereas with her possible saviour that was only a strong probability. She chose the lesser of two evils.

  “Who…” she started to say.

  The man cut her off with a gesture, shaking his head and putting his finger to his lips. Sal looked around. They were squeezed in between crates, in a narrow gap that left her and the man pressed close together. They weren’t touching but nor was there much space.

  “…lost them… dammit. Girl would have been worth…”

  The snatch of conversation faded again as whoever was speaking passed the stall. Sal went to speak again, but her companion shook his head. He kept her there for what felt like several minutes before finally relenting.

  Somehow Sal felt more safe as time went on. They were so close to other people that she could attract attention if he tried anything.

  “It should be safe now,” he said finally. “After you.”

  Sal awkwardly crawled backwards, then climbed to her feet still between the two stalls. She backed away slightly as the man followed, looking all around her in case anyone was still searching.

  “Right,” the man said. “Let’s find somewhere to grab a coffee.”

  “I’m not going with you. I don’t even know who you are!”

  “I’m the one who just saved you from what would have been a very unpleasant fate. My name is Roberto.

  You look pretty shaken up right now. Normally I’d suggest something strong, maybe a whisky, but from your breath you’ve already drunk a fair bit so coffee sounds better. Are you coming? Or are you going to stand around here looking lost and attracting more unwanted attention.”

  The thought of more people trying to catch her, to return her to being a slave, was enough to overcome her wariness of Roberto. She nodded slightly.

  “All right, but I still don’t trust you.”

  “Good! I’d be worried if you did. Come on, I think there are some places along this way. Do you mind holding onto my arm? It’s much too easy to get separated in these crowds, and I don’t want to keep turning to check on you. That would draw more attention to us than we need.”

  She took hold of his upper arm without answering. She already knew how easy it was to get lost within the market.

  Roberto walked in silence for several minutes, seeming to favour one direction, though the haphazard nature of the stalls often forced them to take detours.

  Finally they broke through into a more spacious area. It wasn’t the edge of the market, Sal could still see stalls surrounding it, but it was a large area with fixed buildings. Sal wasn’t surprised to see that most were bars, though there were a few restaurants too.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Roberto led her towards a restaurant and they soon had a secluded seat at a table near the back. The waitress took their order for two coffees and left.

  “It’s quiet,” Sal said.

  “Yeah. It’s after lunch and before dinner. This place will probably be packed in a couple of hours,” he said.

  “You don’t know? I thought you were looking for this place.”

  “No, just somewhere like it. There are quite a few fixed areas for restaurants and bars within the market. If you know how to read them then the layout of the stalls gives clues as to where such places are. There’s always a lot more food stalls near them, for example, as they group together to attract more customers.”

  Sal sat in silence for a few seconds, then asked the question that was on her mind.

  “Why did you help me?”

  “Why? Because you needed help and I was in a position to do so. I could tell you wouldn’t last long unless I stepped in.”

  “Just kindness then? I find that hard to believe. Most people are out to get something.”

  “All right. I would have helped anyway, but I was so close by because I was intrigued by your exchange with the trader — the man you called Markus.”

  Sal felt a cold chill inside. “Why?”

  “My employer is looking to do a significant amount of business with Sovon. Every background check has come up clean. He’s been trading since he was old enough to accompany his father. He has extensive contacts who give him glowing reports. There’s nothing in his history to suggest we can’t trust him.

  Still, with so much at stake my employer wants to be sure. I’ve been following him, checking that his behaviour fits. Up until the moment you approached him there had been nothing at all. Your discussion piqued my interest though. He clearly didn’t recognise you, or didn’t show any signs that he did, but I wanted to find out more.”

  “So you saved me because I was useful?”

  “No!” The denial was almost a shout. “I would have done that anyway. I promise you that.”

  Sal was surprised to find that she believed him. She sat back in her chair, considering what he had said. The waitress came over and placed two large, steaming cups of coffee on the table. Once she had left Sal looked at Roberto carefully.

  “All right, what do you want to know?”

  He smiled. “Just tell me your story, where you were when you met this Markus, and the details of it. One thing I want to make sure is that he wasn’t slumming it — no offence intended, I hate the term myself. Sometimes those who own slaves like to spend time amongst them, pretending to be one of them. The reasons vary but more often than not it’s related to sex. Do you know who owned you at the time?”

  “The Empire. I was owned by the Empire from the moment I was born till the moment I…” she stumbled to a halt, not wanting to mention the Wanderer. “Till I got free.”

  “Ah. That means it is certain Sovon isn’t your Markus. There’s no way he would ever have had access to you. Well, it was worth checking out. Why not tell me your story anyway.”

  “Why?”

&
nbsp; “Because talking often helps. I saw how upset you were.”

  Sal sat for a few moments, scared to broach the painful subject again, especially with a stranger. Then a combination of the alcohol she had drunk, the shock of thinking she had found Markus and the narrow escape from harm loosened her tongue.

  She found herself telling Roberto everything about her relationship with Markus, from the first moments when there seemed to be a spark between them to the awful memories of his being dragged from the cell. Roberto sat in silence most of the time, listening carefully and asking the occasional question.

  *****

  Elizabeth walked away from yet another stall holder who hadn’t seen, or noticed at least, anyone matching Sal’s description. It was hopeless. The market was huge, and the chances of her finding Sal were tiny.

  She scratched absent-mindedly at an itch on her arm, then stopped and stared at what she had been doing. A smile spread across her face and she hurried to the nearest stall to ask a different question. Where was the nearest access terminal?

  *****

  Sal finished her story and sat quietly. Talking about it had eased some of the pain that had lodged in her chest since finding the man who she thought was Markus. It didn’t remove it all by any means, but she felt a little better.

  “That’s rough,” Roberto said in a soft voice. “People are too quick to ignore slaves, to not think of them as human. Stories like yours remind us of the truth. If you have no objections I will tell your story to those I think will listen.”

  “No, of course not. It’s not like I’m ever likely to meet anyone you tell anyway, is it?”

  He smiled at that. “No. Good point.”

  Sal scratched at the back of her neck again. She’d developed an itch while telling her story, and it kept returning in the same place.

  “So, are you going to tell me all about yourself now?” she asked.

  Roberto shook his head. “I could say there is nothing interesting to know, but I think you are smart enough to know that would be a lie. However there is nothing I can tell you. I can talk about this station though, if you like. Then, once we have finished our drinks, I can find out where your ship is docked and walk you back to it.”

  “How do you know I’m from a ship?” Sal asked, startled.

  Roberto laughed. “How could you not be? You know nothing of the station, of the market or of the people you need to be wary of. You’re from a ship. I can tell that easily.”

  Sal couldn’t avoid returning his smile, though hers was a little sheepish.

  “Yeah, all right. You’ve got me there. So what can you tell me about the station?”

  Roberto proceeded to tell her several stories, at least one of which she was sure must be made up. He was a good story teller though, and she enjoyed listening to him.

  He slowed to a halt partway through yet another story, looking up at someone who had approached their table.

  “There you are!” Elizabeth said. “Bloody hell Sal, you gave me one hell of a fright.”

  “Not as much as I gave myself,” Sal replied. “If Roberto here hadn’t come to my rescue then… well… things would have gone badly.”

  Elizabeth studied Roberto for a few seconds before smiling and offering her hand.

  “Glad to see there are still some decent people left. I’m Elizabeth.”

  Roberto shook her hand.

  “Would you like to join us?” he asked.

  “Sorry, no. We need to get back to our ship. Thank you again for looking after Sal for me. This place can be overwhelming at the best of times.”

  “It was my pleasure,” he replied with a smile. He turned to Sal. “Sal, please take care. Even the safest areas can be dangerous, and next time I won’t be around to rescue you.”

  “Thank you.” Sal felt reluctant to leave Roberto. She stood then leaned over, kissing him on the cheek.

  “Well, maybe I should follow you and find another chance to earn a kiss,” he joked.

  Sal and Elizabeth said their goodbyes again and walked towards the entrance.

  “I think you’ve got yourself an admirer there,” Elizabeth said.

  Sal looked over her shoulder to see Roberto staring at her intently. He raised his hand in a lazy salute and she smiled back.

  “Maybe. Let’s just get back to the Wanderer though. I won’t feel safe till we do.”

  *****

  Dash watched as Sal left the restaurant. He used his first name so rarely now that Roberto sounded strange to him.

  Struggling to cope with Dozer’s death he had decided to keep himself busy by checking on a potential business partner. Dozer would have disapproved of course, lecturing him on avoiding danger, but Dozer was gone.

  Dash had been tracking Sovon for several days without finding anything unusual. Until Sal turned up. Something there didn’t add up.

  He’d told Sal the truth. He would have tried to save her even without his interest in Sovon. Her tale had been interesting, but not particularly unique. What was interesting was her friend tracking her down. Dash had been watching everyone who entered or left the restaurant. Elizabeth had walked in and headed straight for their table, well before she could have spotted Sal. Somehow she had known just where Sal was sitting.

  Sal’s encounter with Sovon must be a case of mistaken identity. Dash had seen Sovon’s records, there was no way at all that he could be the Markus she sought. Sovon's history for the past seven years was ironclad. Every movement, every trip, was meticulously logged. What wasn’t logged was the nature of some of his cargo, but that was his speciality. Smuggling.

  So nothing to worry about. Except… if Sovon couldn’t possibly be Markus then why had he reacted to that name when Sal first called him? And why had his face registered shock at seeing her for a few brief moments before he locked down his reactions?

  Almost no one would have noticed, but Dash had the experience and was watching Sovon closely. Impossible as it seemed it appeared that Sovon was actually Markus.

  Dash could just walk away now, cut all ties to Sovon, but that would leave too many unanswered questions. He needed to find out what was going on. And part of doing that meant learning more about Sal, her crew and her ship.

  Dash stood and slipped on dark glasses then left the restaurant. Visible only to him was the trace from the tracker he had fitted to Sal. A trace that allowed him to follow them at a distance that kept him well out of sight. He would follow them back to their ship and then… well, he wasn’t sure. It depended on what he found out.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Elizabeth hurried Sal along, keeping a tight hold on her arm this time. The market crowds were as thick as ever and she didn’t want to risk losing Sal again. The dense mass of people also prevented them from swapping more than the occasional word.

  Finally they pulled free of the market and into a corridor headed towards the docks. With far fewer people around Elizabeth released Sal’s arm and relaxed a little.

  “Thanks for coming to find me,” Sal said. “Sorry for wandering off.”

  “Mainly my fault. I should have kept hold of you. I would have normally. Those beers obviously had more of an affect than I had thought. So what actually happened?”

  Elizabeth listened intently as Sal spoke of meeting the man she mistook for Markus, then Roberto grabbing her and helping her hide while others searched for her.

  “Bloody hell. Shit. I’m sorry, I should never have let that happen Sal.”

  “Do you think he was on the level? That those men were really after me?”

  “Almost certainly, from what you say. It can happen anywhere but normally only somewhere as busy as the market. One of them would have drugged you somehow, then would have helped his poor drunken sister home. Or some other such excuse for near on carrying a half comatose woman through the market. You were really lucky that Roberto was in the area.”

  “Well, it wasn’t completely luck. He was watching the man I mistook for Markus…”

&nb
sp; As Sal explained what Roberto had said Elizabeth felt her stomach drop.

  “Not good,” she said. “This Roberto is more than he seemed. Whoever his employer is must be someone pretty powerful. If they’re vetting people that carefully then they are either dealing in very high value goods or are on the wrong side of the law. Or possibly both.”

  “Does it matter? We won’t be seeing him again will we?”

  “No, I doubt we will. I just get nervous when I get too near the big time players. People like us tend to get squashed underfoot.”

  They walked on in silence for a short while, then Sal asked another question.

  “How did you find me? I thought I was going to have to find my way back to the ship somehow.”

  “First off I spent some time just rushing around like a headless chicken. Not surprisingly that didn’t achieve much. Then I had a thought. Mobile communication equipment doesn’t work within the asteroid, outside of the docks area at least, because the rock blocks signals and no one will pay to have the necessary bandwidth put in.”

  “Yes, you explained that earlier.”

  “Yes. What I should have said is that standard mobile communication equipment doesn’t work. Once that thought struck me I had to find a comms booth and contact the ship. I explained that you were missing and asked Jess to ping that beacon in the back of your head.”

  “Of course! The itching that kept coming back. I’d almost forgotten about that side of the interface.”

  “Luckily for you I hadn’t. Jess pinged it and was able to locate where you were. As it was a fixed restaurant he told me the name and could even give me directions and tell me which seats you were in. After that it was just a matter of getting there and collecting you.”

  “I’m so glad I had that fitted. Are you sure you wouldn’t like that part of the implant too?”

  A chill ran down Elizabeth’s spine at the thought.