by Rob Guy
Petersen pushed away from the door, and trudged back up to where Harry was standing with the two men. The hydrologist was red-faced, sweating, his mouth a pink hoop as he gasped for breath.
“Now, these fine fellows want you dead,” said Harry, pointing Captain Chaos at them. “But I’m going to give them the opportunity to plead for their lives. You can be judge and jury.”
“Mr Watt, if I could please explain,” said the first man.
“Quiet. God, you’re sloppy. I got you straight away.”
“That was our intention,” said the second one. “We are not armed, Mr Watt. Would you at least let us explain before you pass sentence?”
“I don’t know. What do you think, Gustavo?”
Petersen looked shocked, as if he hadn’t heard his given name in years. “Me? What does it matter what I think? You’re going to kill us all anyway. Just get on with it.”
Harry took a deep breath. “I wish you would listen and see. I am here to help you, to protect you from Headlock and his goons.”
The two new men shuffled, and the first made to speak again.
“Mr Watt, please.”
“I said quiet.”
“You are currently the one who is not listening or seeing,” he persisted.
Harry pulled a face and aimed the Captain directly at the man’s face. “One more word and so help me I will blow your head off.”
“Miss Heinlein sent us,” said the second.
Harry, with Captain Chaos still pointed at the first man, looked over at the second. “Heidi?” The man nodded. “What are your intentions?”
“I don’t understand.”
“What did she say to you?”
“Say?”
Annoyed to the point of violence, Harry pointed the Captain at the second man and cocked it. Though it may be an unknown weapon to most, this one action carried an all too clear threat. “Let me spell it out. Give me something in the next five seconds that will convince me Heidi sent you, or I get to see what your brains look like.”
Petersen threw up.
“The instrument you are holding has a name,” said the second man.
“Captain Chaos,” said the first.
Harry looked at them both. The only time he’d uttered that name out loud since leaving Heidi was at Manny’s hotel bar. No one there could possibly know his weapon’s pet name. In his mind’s eye he recalled all the other times he had revealed who Captain Chaos was.
He lowered the gun and released the hammer. “What the hell do you two think you’re doing? Unarmed, and about as inconspicuous as a Christmas tree in summer. Who are you?”
“I’m Daniel Jacks, and this is reverend Jacob Einstein,” said the second man.
“Well, you can’t make those names up,” said Harry, and offered his hand. “Harry, Harry Watt. But I’m guessing you already know that. Reverend, eh?”
“That’s right, but only on Sundays.”
“Eh? Perhaps you should take it up full time. You’re lousy at surveillance.”
“Miss Heinlein sent us to watch over you, Mr Watt,” said Jacks. “Or more precisely, it was Mr Soames.”
“No shit. Oops. Sorry, Reverend.”
“Today’s Saturday, my son. Fucked if I care what you say.”
“I take it this is Gustavo Petersen,” said Jacks. “Looks like he could use a little help.”
“He’s fine,” said Harry.
“Yes, I’m fine,” echoed Petersen sarcastically, wiping his mouth. “Anybody got any water.”
“We can get some at any of the restaurants. We really should be moving along,” said Jacks. He touched his ear. “Mr Soames has taken Miss Heinlein back to the council chambers. We are to meet with them there. They are very keen to hear what you have to say, Mr Petersen.”
“You can call me Gus,” said Petersen and he smiled at Jacks.
“Then please call me Dan,” replied Jacks, returning the pleasantry.
“Can I speak to Heidi?” asked Harry.
“We don’t have time, Mr Watt,” said Einstein. “It’s best we clear off from here as soon as possible. Though the police should be here by now. Something’s not right.”
Harry took a deep breath, and rather reluctantly, relayed his news. “It may have something to do with the fact that I shot the sheriff.”
“Not good,” said Jacks.
“But I swear it was in self defence,” Harry added.
“If you say so.”
“Careful now, sunny Jim,” Harry said. “We’ve only just met, and already you’re starting to piss me off.”
“I’m sorry, Mr Watt. If you say it was self defence then who am I to disbelieve you?”
“Who indeed? Come on, let’s move. You two can lead the way. Call me over-cautious, but until we’re back with Heidi, I’d like to keep you both where I can see you.”
“As you wish, Mr Watt,” said Einstein. “We’re on our way,” he added speaking into his lapel.
Harry spotted the action. “Hey, can I get one of those? That way I could look like a super spy too.”
Einstein frowned at him and moved away.
Harry grinned. “Guess not.”
The four men set off into the bustle of Central, stopping only to buy some water for Petersen. Harry’s left hand hovered over his breast pocket, just in case there were any more disbelievers in the vicinity.
It was only a ten minute walk to the council offices. They had seen one police car pass them going in the direction of Harry’s little shoot out. He sincerely hoped Manny had taken his advise and made his escape with the girls. He and Petersen were led to a room on the second floor, and there Harry was thankfully re-united with Heidi. She did not look happy and they did not embrace, but merely exchanged hellos.
Late for dinner again. I know that look.
The room was huge, far too big for purpose. It was constructed of fake oak panelling with a comforting, plush, aquamarine colored carpet. The right hand wall was simply a monumental window, looking out over Central Plaza. Seated with Heidi before a massive, walnut desk was Soames, whom she introduced, and two other men. Soames introduced them as Chief Councillor Aaron Berkeley, and his deputy, Theodore Entwistle. The former was seated behind the desk, his broad hands playing it like a piano.
“Ah, at last,” said Soames. He got up and shook Harry’s hand. “A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Mr Watt.”
“Likewise, I’m sure,” replied Harry. He was slightly taken aback by Soames’ appearance, despite Heidi’s jocular description of him earlier. He was dressed in a straight fitting grey pin-stripe suit with polished shoes and teeth. His hair was jet black, just greying at the temples, and a complexion smooth enough to sleep on. He caught a brief whiff of expensive cologne. He was quite probably the most handsome man Harry had ever met. He looked over at Heidi as if to ask, ‘you’re sure you’re not interested in this guy?’ But she was staring at the floor, her mind seemingly elsewhere.
“This, I take it, is Mr Petersen,” said Soames, and advanced to meet the hydrologist. “What can I call you?” he said, extending his hand.
“Anything you want,” Petersen replied, and looked about to faint. “I mean, Gus. You can call me Gus. Ha ha!”
“Gus it is. Please, gentlemen, sit. Can I get you anything?”
“I’m good,” said Harry.
“Gus?”
“Just some water, thank you.”
“Well, now,” said Chief Councillor Berkeley, leaning forward in his chair. “Mr Petersen, I understand you have vital information to disclose. Mr Soames has outlined some of it for me, but, if we’re done with the pleasantries perhaps you would care to fill us all in further.”
Harry grunted a laugh at the chief councillor’s no-nonsense approach. The head of the Martian government was around sixty-five, with white hair, tanned complexion, and a deep dimple in his chin. He reminded Harry of an aged character actor he’d seen in so many old movies. Fatherly, trusting, maybe. He carried a little extra weight
around the middle, but then so did most men his age. However it didn’t prevent him looking every bit the man in charge. His navy suit was flawless. This time, Harry caught a brief whiff of not so expensive cologne. Berkeley’s deputy on the other hand looked decidedly weaker, a timid, rodent like individual with huge ears and protruding front teeth. He wore the same navy suit as his boss, and the same cologne, too. A starker contrast between Soames and he there could not be.
Petersen proceeded to inform them of Headlock’s plan to mine Phobos, and hence destroy it in the process, as well as all the subsequent fallout when he refused to co-operate.
When he’d finished, Berkeley sat back in his chair and breathed deeply, drumming his fingers on the desk. He studied Petersen intently with narrow eyes before shifting his gaze to Harry.
“So what’s your story?” he said to everyone’s favorite bailsman.
“I was hired by Judge Headlock to bring Mr Petersen back to Earth. I was led to believe he had jumped bail after having first helped himself to some company funds.”
“Which I didn’t,” Petersen interjected.
“No, he didn’t,” Harry averred.
“I see.” Berkeley continued to drum his fingers on the table, staring ahead of him, with the occasional glance at Petersen. “Well,” he said after an intense pause. “I’ll be damned if I am going to allow the honorable Judge Joseph Belmont Headlock III Junior, or whatever his bloody name is, to mess with our planetary system.” He jabbed at a button on his desk. There was a weak electronic squeak, the unmistakable sound of a failing intercom. There came a muffled, completely inaudible response. Berkeley chuntered and stood up. He shouted in the direction of the doors.
“Thomas! Get in here!”
Heidi jumped and put a hand to her chest.
The huge doors creaked open and in walked Berkeley’s secretary. “Sorry, sir. I’ll call maintenance again.”
“That’s the third time this week, man,” Berkeley moaned. “Are there any good electricians left?”
Harry was slowly beginning to see that Mars Central too, had its problems, a lack of trustworthy law enforcement not least among them.
“I need Beryl and Sheryl up here lickety-split. I won’t take no for an answer. I want this young man’s confession down asap.”
“Confession?” said Petersen, startled. “I’ve volunteered information, that’s all. Don’t think you can strong arm me with bad vocabulary.”
Berkeley harrumphed and sat back down. “Sorry. Wrong choice of word.” To Thomas, “Get them here, now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Harry looked at Petersen with fresh eyes.
Good going, young man. Don’t let this windbag intimidate you.
“As for you,” Berkeley said returning his attention back to you know who, “Care to explain how you managed to shoot our sheriff in the head?”
“With great difficulty,” said Harry. It was an answer worthy of flippancy, but he delivered it as deadpan as a stolid undertaker. “Perhaps you should be asking yourself what he was doing there in the first place?” he added.
Berkeley stiffened. “Don’t get flippant with me, sunshine. Shooting an elected official is a very serious crime, even on Mars.”
“I’m sure it is. But for starters I was acting in self-defence, and two, your elected official was probably on Headlock’s payroll.”
Berkeley turned crimson. “That’s outrageous! Who are you to come in here and start telling me how my staff are getting bribed? That’s my job!”
“He had help,” said Jacks. “But I have to agree with him, sir, about Sheriff Pratt. The men he was with, all came in on the last shuttle. And they’re not miners.”
Berkeley sighed heavily and sat back in his chair. “I know. We suspected Pratt for a while now. It was only a matter of time before we confronted him. Seems you have done us all a favor, Watt.”
Harry looked astonished.
“Any left alive to question?” asked Berkeley, assuming the worst.
“All deceased,” replied Jacks. “I have to say, Mr Watt has a quite remarkable weapon.”
Heidi chuckled and coughed.
Berkeley caught it. “You know, I’m still not sure what she’s doing here,” he said, pointing a finger at Heidi.
“Miss Heinlein is another associate of Mr Watt’s,” said Jacks.
“She’s here at my behest, Aaron,” said Soames. “And the reason why we know all this. Miss Heinlein is my source regarding Headlock. Also she can offer financial as well as influential help if we need it.”
“Can she indeed? Humph. Bloody tenderfoots,” Berkeley muttered to himself.
Heidi knew enough of male politics to keep her mouth shut, for now. But Harry was having none of it.
“You are going to need all the help you can get,” he told the chief councillor. “And it won’t come much better than this lady. And for your information, her name is Heidi.”
“And I’m the bloody head of the Mars Council!”
“Well I didn’t vote for you. Do you want to squabble over social standing or do you want to compile a viable plan to stop Headlock? Or if there’s a measuring tape in your desk drawer we can measure egos, or something else, if you prefer.”
Heidi couldn’t stop herself from giggling. Soames too, was struggling not to.
Berkeley rolled his lips, eyeing them all, and seemed to be chewing on his tongue. Evidently he was not accustomed to be being spoken to like this. “Okay, Mr Watt, what do you propose?”
“First, I will need to know the identities of any of the men that were shot. I don’t hold out much hope, especially up here, but we may get lucky. Second, my associate, Manny O’Hanlon, saved my life, but was injured in the process. I would appreciate it if you could get him some decent medical attention. Third, we should get Mr Petersen to a secure location as soon as possible.”
“Of course!” said Berkeley with heavy sarcasm, throwing his arms up in salutation. “I am so grateful for your insight and suggestions. Will there be anything else?”
“Yes. I missed dinner. Anything to eat round here?”
33
Hideout
“I don’t recognize any of the names or faces,” Harry said, reading down the list. “Manny?”
“No,” he replied, shaking his head.
“Well, like I said in Berkeley’s office, I wasn’t holding out any hope.”
Manny winced as he adjusted his posture in the bed. Despite his initial dislike of the chief councillor, Harry had to concede the fact that Berkeley had come through when asked to provide decent medical care for his friend. Manny had his own private room, and more importantly, a dedicated nursing staff. This pleased him immensely, and was pretty much the sole cause for getting him to stay put. Jade and Jemima paid him regular visits too, like now.
“I want to thank you both for helping me, for saving my life,” Harry told them.
“I think you’re exaggerating,” Jemima said.
“No he’s not,” said Jade, not bothering to hide the smile in her voice. “You can thank me all you want, Harry, as many times as you like.”
“Miss Metaphor,” said Jemima.
“Well, I will say it was a pleasure,” said Jade, smiling for him and crossing her long, elegant legs.
“Cut that out,” Manny told her. “He’s spoken for. Ain’t that right, boss?”
Harry felt embarrassed by the remark, and looked furtively at Jade. “I’m many things, Manny, but I am not your boss,” he said, hoping that answer was sufficient so as not to cause him further embarrassment. “Get some rest. The shit’s gonna hit the fan pretty soon, if it hasn’t clogged it up already. I’ll be needing you fit and healthy.”
“I hear you.”
Harry had informed Manny of the Council’s decision to wait on Headlock making another move for Petersen. The hydrologist had been transferred to a secure location, one known only to Harry, Berkeley, Entwistle and Soames. Heidi had been pissed at him, arguing that she had set him up with So
ames. Harry concurred, but Berkeley was adamant she was not to know. Heidi let it be known that she was not at all happy with the arrangement, and took back her offer of financial assistance to the Martian cause as a consequence. Harry begged her not to, but Heidi’s view was that if they wanted it now they could damn well ask for it. She held Soames partly responsible, but most of all she blamed Harry for not sticking up for her more. After a night and half the next day, she was still not speaking to him, except to suggest he should check he hadn’t lost anything down below.
Harry left Manny to his nurses and concubines. A quick consultation with his physician on the way out informed him that Mr O’Hanlon did not have to endure his private treatment much longer.
After checking he was not being followed, Harry made for Petersen’s hideout. After negotiating tight security, which consisted of a single man trying to remain anonymous in the lobby, and who had absolutely no idea who he was protecting, Harry played the musical code on the door’s electronic lock, and gained access to Petersen’s room.
“Only me, Gus,” Harry said cheerily, his voice echoing off the dim walls. “I’ve brought you some lunch.”
Petersen was seated on the arm of a chair, his feet resting on the windowsill, seemingly oblivious to Harry’s presence. He was staring out of a grimy window onto the quiet street below, his hands clasped before him.
“What am I doing here?” he asked, solemnly.
Harry threw the lunch onto the table. “The right thing,” he replied.
This made Petersen turn to look at him, and he appeared surprised to discover he had company. “Oh. Hi, Harry. You brought lunch, have you?”
“I have.” Harry looked on as Petersen returned his gaze to the window. “Are you okay, Gus?”
“Mmm?”
“I said are you okay? You seem pre-occupied.”
“I’m fine. Still re-adjusting to.... all this.”
“What are you looking at?”
“It’s so empty here. There has been nobody walking about down there. I saw you cross the street, but other than that, no-one.”
