*
It was Roslyn’s turn to sit and watch Kidd. She found the local feed to Channel One and turned it on.
The fact that the number one story on Channel One was all about Kidd Wylie and the Finx Crew, caused Roslyn to blush and then become irritated at the same time. The Finx crew? Roslyn was horrified when Adriana referred to her agency as the Finx Crew. It was beyond offensive. In shock, she watched from the desk across from the cell with Kidd Wylie.
He smirked. Bubbling over with pride at being made famous. Relishing his moment. Roslyn wanted to be annoyed by it, but she too festered a secret desire to enjoy it as well.
“Instead of killing their enemies, they simply stun them,” reported Adriana, behind perfect hair and makeup. “It was, after all, Roslyn Fink who first invented the bloodless, stun-duel, that is now so popular in places like Annabellus. Famous gunmen like Wild Bull McQueen have participated in these stun duels in Montgomery, for example. Miss Fink famously pitted Dogg Holly against Krave Allison in the first known stun-duel that ended in a slight victory for Krave Allison as told by many witnesses.”
“What?” Roslyn said straightening her back and titling her head. “That’s a thing?”
“But that’s not to say they don’t have blood on their hands. They claim to serve the Holy Avians, but at the end of the day, they are a business with a bottom line,” Adriana said into the camera. “I suppose the question is, who gave the Finx Crew all that authority? But on the flippity, we can ask the question, are they serving the greater good? Those and more hard questions at twenty-two o’clock. Plus we’ll give you the confessions of a killer. The Kidd Wylie story. See you on the flippity flip. I’m Adriana Johar. And now enjoy the classic film starring George Gregory and directed by the master of cinema, Sir Alfred Sinister, Look At All Those Birds.
“Who the hells does she think she is?” Roslyn said, pacing back and forth, biting her nails.
“Oh, wow,” Kidd said from his cot, hands bound in Da’akvine on his lap. “If you don’t mind me saying, ma’am, you’re awful vain when it comes to your reputation, huh?”
“Don’t act like you’re any different, kid,” Roslyn said, pulling her foot back to kick the wall, but deciding against it. “I’m trying to do something good out here, and this is what I’m accused of? Right? Serving my bottom line only? Seriously?”
“Well, again, if you don’t mind the opinion of a simpleton, I think most of that report made you guys look pretty badass, pardon my language… well you know,” Kidd said with a broad smile. “Tough and clever as heck. My money’s on your outfit now.”
Roslyn tried her best not to let her chest swell, but she could have been floating in zero G for all she knew. The momentum had turned in her favor it would seem. But that also meant that her and little Miss Johar would need to establish a thing or two. She wasn’t going to let her agency be known further more as the Finx Crew. That wouldn’t do. Her transponder vibrated and buzzed. It was a call from Frank.
“You invented the stun-duel?” Frank asked, trying not to laugh.
“I guess so,” Roslyn said, smirking and turning her back to Kidd walking out of earshot. “Apparently that’s now a thing.”
“What’s up with the Finx Crew?” Frank asked.
“Oh, I know, right? That really pisses me off, by the way” Roslyn said. “I’m going to need to pay that little bitch a visit.”
“Well, from a business perspective,” Frank said. “Someone goes to search for the Finx Crew and they can’t find us because that’s not our real name. I mean…”
“Exactly,” Roslyn said. “That and it’s a little disrespectful. We’re out here trying to bring order and justice to these people. Saying we only serve our bottom line is some bullshit. And then Finx Crew implies I named the thing after myself. Peace Keepers is a much better title for what we are trying to do.”
“Well, I don’t know if that’s exactly what she was saying,” Frank said. “I think it was more of a question that people might have and so she is going to address it. Maybe? I mean, I could be wrong there.”
“Well, either way, I’m going to need to talk to her,” Roslyn said. “Did you really just call me to give me shit about the report?”
“Uh, yeah,” Frank said. “How’s it going? You want me to relieve you?”
“I’m fine,” Roslyn said.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” Frank said and hung up.
“Okay?” Roslyn said looking at her transponder.
*
After half a day and all the hotels later, Talbert turned his attention to the shuttle port. But halfway there he slowed down. Rex Omnious had his own shuttle capable of taking him directly into the docking bay of a bridge jumper. Talbert wondered how long before Rex would purchase a small G-Class Bridge Jumper of his own. The corporate cattle companies from Earth had them before the war. He’d be able to vanish to any place with a bridge without any trace. It sort of felt like that already. The man could be a ghost when he wanted, appearing at will without warning. Talbert felt a snake climb his back. Was Rex always watching them? How did he know where they would be? Did he have a man on the inside? Who? Charlie Siringo?
Talbert went to the largest hotel in town. Star Belly had been its former owner. He wondered who had taken it over. He found the lot void of hearse buggies, as he had the first time he’d driven by, but now he parked and went inside. They’d remodeled since the great shootout. Dogg Holly had gunned down countless men in that lobby.
The android clerk behind the counter wore a red bow tie and a matching cap.
“I’m sorry,” the clerk said as Talbert approached. “There are no vacancies today.”
Talbert remembered Star Belly trying to shout over the crowd the same thing the night they first arrived in New Vegas. The town had come a long way since then.
“I’m looking for a guy,” Talbert said, pulling his transponder out of his jacket pocket. He flipped through it until he found the blurry image Frank had captured of Rex on Athena. It was from the time Lahky Reems had them pinned down outside of her caves.
The clerk captured the image but stared stone faced ahead into nothing.
“You rent a room for this man recently?” asked Talbert finally.
“No,” the clerk said flatly. “That would be a redundancy.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Talbert asked, tilting his head slightly.
“Redundancy – the state of being not or no longer needed or useful,” said the clerk.
“I know what the hell it means,” Talbert said through clamped teeth. “Why is it a redundancy?”
“Because that man cannot rent a room at this hotel, it would make no sense,” the clerk said. “Can I assist you with anything else? My primary function is to rent rooms to customers or direct guest complaints to the proper departments.”
Talbert’s fist slamming into the counter rattled the lamp and the small bell hummed. “Why would it not make sense for that man to rent a room here?”
“Your anger is causing alarm in me, sir,” the clerk said, stepping back. “Is there an issue that requires the sheriff?”
“I work with the sheriff, you stupid…” Talbert took a deep breath, just like Hattie told him to do when he was about to shoot someone. “Explain the reason please and there will be no need for violence.”
“Violence? My dear,” the clerk said. “Oh. Well, he cannot rent a room here because he would consequently be paying himself. That man’s name is Rex Omnious. He is the present owner of the Grand Mother Hotel. This is the Grand Mother Hotel, sir.”
“He owns it?” Talbert said, looking around the lobby. Three Red Scarves were watching him from the coffee shop on the far side of the fountain. “No shit.”
Talbert tried to wrap his brain around it. What did it mean?
“How long has Mr. Omnious been the owner of this hotel?” Talbert turned back to the clerk.
“The hotel was purchased from Richard Ma-Suun two weeks, six days, two hours and thirteen minu
tes from the present.”
“What is his play?” Talbert asked himself.
“I’m sorry? I don’t understand the question,” the clerk answered. “That is to say, unless the proper answer is, that Mr. Omnious is a businessman, who owns the bank as well as several high end apartments and a fueling station in this town.”
“Who made you?” Talbert was struck suddenly with a thought. “Where were you manufactured?”
“I am a Vulcan T47 Desk Clerk Model, with a hospitality operating system,” the clerk said.
“Vulcan?” Talbert asked. “Out of Montgomery, Annabellus?”
“That is correct, sir,” the clerk said, tiny gears forcing the lips to form a smile. “You are familiar with our company?”
“How long ago were you created? And when did Mr. Omnious purchase you?” Talbert asked, feeling his heart rate increase. He pictured that lying bastard Kleet O’Hare. He had to hand it him; he was one hell of a liar. He hadn’t flinched when Talbert told him his name was Rex Omnious.
“I was manufactured nine months, eleven days, thirteen hours and twenty-three minutes prior to this minute,” said the clerk. “I was purchased by an associate of Mr. Omnious’ named Rondell Moseby. He manages the daily running of the hotel as well as other holdings Mr. Omnious has in town.”
This caused Talbert to rethink the entire equation. Did Rex Omnious support his cousin’s business anonymously? Perhaps Kleet didn’t know this Rondell worked for Rex? It was possible. Kleet couldn’t have been lying to him. It just didn’t make sense. He seemed to legitimately believe Talbert was Rex Omnious and so had the kid working the gate. Unless Rex went by Dylan O’Hare when he dealt with his cousins.
“Where can I find Rondell, what’s his name?” Talbert asked.
“Mr. Moseby’s present location is a mystery to me,” the clerk said. “However, based on patterns in his weekly routine, I would assume he is currently in his office at the bank.”
“Can we help you with something?” asked a voice behind Talbert. He turned to face three Red Scarves and a Purple Lord. The voice belonged to the big man in purple.
“You seem to have a lot of questions for our over worked desk clerk here,” Ed said.
“I’m an Interstellar Peace Officer, gentlemen,” Talbert said, keeping his voice cool. “I’m looking for the owner of this establishment. I just have some questions for him.”
“First off, you have no authority here,” Ed said, spreading his feet apart. This caused Talbert to grin and nod.
“You think otherwise?” Ed asked, brushing back his jacket.
“I think you make one more move toward that gun and you’ll see who has the authority here,” Talbert said in a low, growling whisper. Then suddenly he shouted. “Go on!”
This caused all four men to jump or flinch. Then Ed smiled and put his hand on the chest of the biggest of the Red Scarves.
“You’re Devil Bill, ain’t you?” asked Big Red Scarf.
“I am,” Talbert said, his eyes burning with hunger.
“I heard about what you did in the war,” said the Red Scarf.
“Then you should know,” Talbert said in a low deliberate voice. “I’m not the kind of man you want to tussle with.”
“You going to stun us again?” asked Ed, causing the smallest Red Scarf to chuckle. Talbert’s gun appeared without any further warning on the forehead of Ed, drying up the chuckles immediately.
“Damn,” Talbert said. “I forgot to set my gun back to stun when I recharged it. I can be careless like that sometimes.”
“He’s bluffing,” said Big Red.
“No,” said Ed a bit too quickly. “He’s not.”
“I’m a man of powerful thirsts,” Talbert said. “Blood being one of my nastiest vices, I hate to admit.” He wondered if he was doing his own version of Dogg Holly.
“There are four of us against one,” Big Red said.
“Back down, boys,” Ed said. “Fred…”
Fred the Big Red held up his hands, surrendering to his boss and motioned for the others to back away. “Fine. We’ll meet you again, Devil Bill.”
“I hope so,” Talbert said. “I have that old itch again. It’s going to need to be scratched sooner, rather than later, boys.”
Talbert waited until the three Red Scarves exited the lobby. He then leaned against the counter, elbows on the polished Da’akwood, gun in hand and watched as Ed backed away.
Talbert pulled his transponder once more and thumbed down to Earl Wyatt.
“Might want to come to the Grand Mother Hotel. I am in the lobby, but I have a feeling I’m about to be jumped by some Red Scarves when I leave. Bring some of my guys with you.”
He waited fifteen minutes by having a Jarritos from the vending machine. There was a plaque by the fountain that read: Historical Site. In this lobby infamous gunslinger Dogg Holly murdered ten men and one woman in the famous battle with Star Belly. She was murdered in her room upstairs.
“Huh,” he whispered, not certain how to take the plaque. He thought about what he’d told those Red Scarves about his craving for blood. Had it really been a bluff, or was there more truth to it than he’d like to ever admit. Hattie’s disapproval shadowed him. He didn’t like thinking of her but couldn’t help it.
He wondered who’d commissioned the plaque. Had it been there before Rex bought the place and he’d simply left it up? Or did Rex put it up? Judging by his strange form of Dogg worship, he guessed he had.
He was about to ask the clerk when his transponder chimed and he read a message from Roslyn that read: Safe to come out. We have the upper hand now.
Talbert grinned and tipped his hat to a couple coming down the stairs into the lobby and exited the building. Across the street were over half a dozen Red Scarves, but up on the balcony of the restaurant down the block, Siringo and Hattie stood, holding rifles. In one direction Earl Wyatt and four of his deputies stood, while in the opposite Roslyn, Frank, Hassan, Grace, and Berry Gould made their presence known. No one had his or her guns aimed at anyone else. But it was clear the good guys had the bad ones out gunned and held the higher ground.
Talbert exited the building and sauntered calmly to his hover bike. He started it up and spat. Then cruised swiftly toward the bank, while Roslyn motioned for the rest of them to move along.
Ed nodded and smiled, almost out of a bizarre sense of professional courtesy. The two parties went their separate ways. Roslyn noticed Adriana Johar and her crew lingering down the block. The camera drones had captured the uneasy standoff from the air. Puff too, watched from the rooftop of the barbershop.
Talbert parked outside the bank and shoved past a group of people lingering on the sidewalk to enter it.
He was surprised to feel the cool kiss of air conditioning on his face. The place smelled of disinfectant and polished stone. It was one of only a handful of brick buildings in the otherwise Da’akwood town. The bricks sparkled slightly in the light as they were made from local clay. But the floor of the lobby was smooth and hewn from marble found in southern Annabellus. No expense was spared. The effect was impressive and meant to convey stability. This town was going nowhere but up. There were riches beyond measure to be had here.
Talbert made his way past the automated tellers and approached a manager, wearing a green colored visor. His suit was pressed and expensive looking. Around his neck dangled smart goggles.
“You know where I can find a man named Rondell Moseby?” Talbert asked. He made a note of the four Red Scarves currently milling about the lobby, working security. There were cameras everywhere. Rex spared no expense for security.
“You’ve found him,” said the manager. “What can I do for you?”
CHAPTER SIX
“Interstellar Peace Keeper. I’m looking to ask your boss some questions,” Talbert said. The Red Scarves working security glanced at Rondell, but the lean man in a tailored suit waved them to stand down.
“Yeah?” asked Rondell. “Well, I’m afraid he’s not here. He
doesn’t deal with the daily running of this bank. I do.”
“But do you know where I can find him?” asked Talbert, trying to be patient.
“I’m afraid he does not report to me,” smiled Rondell. “Does this have anything to do with Dogg Holly?”
“Well,” Talbert began, but paused to scratch his ear. “I was witness to that fight. While he played shady pool, it was a straight duel. So no. It’s all related but that’s not exactly why I want to speak with him.”
“Can I leave word that you’re looking for him?” asked Rondell.
“You can,” Talbert said. “I’m Detective Talbert.”
“You’re Devil Bill, aren’t you?” Rondell grinned. “I knew it.”
“Tell him I’d like to ask him a few questions,” Talbert said.
“Okay,” Rondell said.
“Do you know a man named Ike Hoon?” asked Talbert before turning to leave.
“Ike?” Rondell grinned. “Of course I know Ike. He runs Mr. Omnious’ businesses on Athena. Much like I do here on Danaus. I sometimes deal with him on various matters.”
“I see,” Talbert said, imagining Rex’s reach. “When do you expect Omnious back?”
“I don’t,” Rondell said. “He was here this week. He has business all over Orion’s Arm. He comes and goes when he pleases.”
Talbert strolled toward the doors of the lobby, keeping his eyes on the Red Scarves. They traded the stare but that was it and he left the building without further incident. As he exited, he recognized Earless Joe the gambler entering. He must have had a good night. He was grinning through his beard, his pockets full of plastic chips. Talbert tipped his hat to him in passing.
Outside he searched the balconies and windows for snipers wearing red scarves. Finding none, he drove the bike back toward the sheriff’s office. He counted eight Red Scarves along the route, watching him. When he reached the office, Ed and three more Red Scarves, including Fred stood on the sidewalk. He was surprised to see Drago among them. His scarf was different than the others, because he’d received his down in Yanker.
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