"That was close," Thad huffed.
"Too close," Mia agreed. "And how is it that none of us are in jail right now?"
"And who is Captain Reynolds?" Alasdair asked aloud.
“And what the hell is that stuff,” Kristin barked and pointed at the bubbling cylinders.
"She's nobody," Quinn replied, the smile on his face showing his self-satisfaction. "Just a figment of my vivid imagination."
"Come again?" Kristin asked as she slowly sat on the deck and collected herself.
"An alias," Quinn said. "I created it as soon as I got onboard. To answer Mia's question, I created a few for each of you. That's why none of us popped up on Balara's most wanted. I uploaded them into the ship's computer while we were in transit here. Passports, letters of transit, bank accounts, IDs."
Mia's interested was immediate. "Bank accounts?"
"Fake ones, for now."
"A wise precaution," Thad said with a smirk. "However, had they failed to pass inspection—"
"I know, I know. You would have killed me. I get it. I've learned how to cover my tracks pretty well. Now that I'm on this ship with you group of miscreants, I don't need any of you getting caught and putting me in harm's way."
Kristin regarded his lime-green eyes. With a history of working with the Office of Special Investigations, Quinn was likely capable of almost anything.
But Alasdair remained unconvinced. "And how solid are these aliases?"
"I only had enough time to input the basics. Assuming you don't do something stupid and burn them in the next few days, I can probably put together something a little more in-depth. But, as they are, they'll pass most Unified scanners and nearly all of the independent systems." He reached into the satchel around his shoulder and passed a computer card to Alasdair. "I suggest you read up on yourself. It might come in handy. I made you less of a drunk, so you'll have a lot to live up to."
Kristin agreed with Quinn's assessment. "Make sure we're all educated. Alasdair, I think it's time to take the ship down before the Lieutenant gets any more suspicious. And I need some non-recirculated air, which by the way still smells awful."
“Yeah,” Mia replied with indifference. “I suppose as the unofficial environmental control officer, I’ll have to get right on that.”
“No. It’s official,” Kristin replied, fanning her face but finding no relief. “So please fix it. Fast.”
Thad looked in disgust at the first ID card handed to him. "Evington Alfonse Beaumont… the third? What kind of a name is that?"
"A very pretentious one," Mia giggled.
But Thad was far from amused. "Did you put any kind of creativity into these at all? I don't even look like an Evington!"
Quinn shrugged. "You don't look like a Thaddaeus either, but I didn't give you that one."
"I'll have you know that Thaddaeus is a very respectable, powerful name."
Alasdair, likewise, was far from entertained. "Less of a drunk?" he asked, moving closer to the hacker. "You and I need to have words."
Quinn was unfazed by the threat. "It'll be a short conversation, I assure you."
The display was making Kristin more nauseous than the bubbling goo that was now dark purple in color. "Stop it, both of you! Alasdair, the ship. Down. Now."
Alasdair reached up and tapped the forged card on Quinn's chest. "Yes, ma'am."
Thirty minutes later the Cobalt Rose descended to one of the dozen of hovering landing pads at the spaceport just outside of the city of Deep Haven. The sun had begun to set as the ship’s landing pads came into contact with the surface, and minutes later, the lower cargo ramp was extended. As Kristin rushed out to take in a large gulp of fresh air, she noted that several automated maintenance droids immediately began servicing the ships utility needs.
"Mia, you and Quinn get a bead on some supplies. Alasdair, you and Thad stay here with the ship."
Thad stepped up to her. "You're going into Deep Haven… on your own?"
"My contact isn't expecting me to have company. I don't want to upset him."
"All the same," Alasdair added, then lowered his voice. "It's too risky. This isn't exactly the friendliest town."
"I can handle myself."
"I'm not worried about you," he snapped under his breath before collecting himself. "Okay, well, I am. A little. You see, if you don't come back, I don't get paid, nor do I get my record cleared. None of us do. I'm under orders to see to your well-being, and I intend to do just that. Now I suggest you rethink your strategy about this whole going into town on your own thing."
She was silent for a moment before speaking. "You think I should?" she asked, her tone laced with apprehension.
"I do."
"That’s so sweet. Really?" she asked, stepping even closer to him and staring lovingly into his eyes.
"Y-yes."
"Fine. You want me to have protection? I'll take protection."
Alasdair smiled. "Good, I'll get my gear and—"
"Mia, you're with me. Alasdair will gladly stay and babysit the ship with the rest of the boys. Thad, gun."
A small pistol flew through the air and landed squarely in Kristin's palm. Did Thad have that in his hand already? He must have. She slipped it into her coat pocket and made her way to the ramp.
"I hate all-girl parties." Mia zipped her coat in defiance and drew its hood over her head. "Whatever." As she walked past Quinn, he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. She stopped, speculating all the ways she could have broken his wrist and why she hadn't done any of them.
"Be careful." Feeling the material under his fingers, he knew she was way ahead of him.
She didn't look at him before continuing down the ramp. "I'm always careful."
Kristin looked back to Alasdair. "There. All better."
"Are you kidding?" he yelled after her. "Better? No, Kristin, it's not really—"
"And make sure to refill the water tanks," Kristin commanded over her shoulder as she and Mia moved out. "And your waste tanks. Pay close attention to those. I think they're full." The wind began to howl, picking up speed just as the ramp door closed.
Thad quietly stepped up behind Alasdair. “She’s tenacious.” There was no denying the admiration in his tone.
Alasdair nodded at the closed cargo door. “I just hope it doesn’t get her killed.”
Thad affirmed his words with a grunt. “Because she’s your meal ticket? Or could it be because…”
The first officer turned and glared at the mercenary. “Because she’s the captain, that’s why.” Alasdair didn’t wait for a reply before sidestepping Thad on his way to the cockpit.
Chapter 14
The floating landing pad beneath the Cobalt Rose, held aloft by antigravity generators that would have traded for a small fortune anywhere else, was no different than the hundred or more hovering nearby. In fact, Kristin knew that nearly all the critical business of Balara was here, in glittering hovering cities, and not on the hazardous surface of the planet. And dangerous it was—a world of active volcanos, earthquakes, and other violent forces of nature that—while deadly to most humanoid species—were also the wellsprings of precious rare materials mined by wealthy corporations. A corporation like the one Kristin worked for before her new life began. Before Bobby died.
On a nearby landing pad, a cargo vessel bearing the mark of her previous employer lifted slowly into the atmosphere, its drive thrusters glowing from red to white-hot as they propelled the ship into the stars.
"Homesick?" Mia's tone was almost mocking as she followed Kristin’s gaze.
As the ship vanished from view, Kristin felt a twinge of hopelessness over the loss of her future. The disappointment dissolved quickly into despair over Bobby, then morphed into resolve over her current endeavor. "It's not my home anymore. Anyways, how did you know I worked for Zektron Limited?"
Mia looked genuinely surprised. "You did?"
At the far end of their pad, an air taxi was waiting. Not long after the duo had gotte
n in, Kristin's communicator beeped, indicating it contained a recorded message. Turning to keep the communiqué out of Mia's periphery, she quickly scanned the note before letting out a sigh of dissatisfaction.
"Is there a problem?" Mia grumbled from the seat beside her as she fidgeted with her hood.
"I don't think so. It's a message from my contact. The meeting location has changed."
"But still on for the same time?"
Kristin nodded before signaling the vehicle's autopilot. "Our stop has changed. Please update the destination to 16350 Market Avenue, Level 64, North." The computer responded with a series of beeps and chirps as the new route was calculated, then the craft pulled away from the pad and into the air.
Kristin looked down to the floating factories below. Within minutes the cab had left the industrial altitudes and, based on the quality and style of the towering buildings ahead of them, Kristin surmised that they were heading into a more affluent area. This was confirmed when the cab once more ascended, climbed up the façade of a beautiful alabaster tower before gently setting down on an outcropping at the 64th level.
Moments later the cab was gone, leaving Kristin and Mia alone on a well-manicured circular landing area, with the only door into the structure closed. Mia eyed the door, noticing there was no control panel to inform the occupants they'd arrived, let alone allow them into the structure. Instinctively she reached for the small sidearm under her coat and flicked the safety switch off.
"What are you doing?" Kristin asked as she stepped up behind her.
"Being cautious. This isn't just a landing pad—it's a holding cell."
Likewise, Kristin scanned the area as the warm air fluttering around them began to cool. "I'm starting to feel the same way." Following Mia's lead, Kristin engaged the pistol Thad had given her. "What do you make of that door?"
"It's a door."
Kristin wasn't in the mood for her cynicism. "Can you open it?"
"I'll try." Mia reluctantly rolled up her sleeve before moving off toward the structure. She stepped to the door and extended the bracelet towards it. It immediately began to glow. When the light faded, the band had reformed into some type of computer. "Damnit," Mia cursed while examining it.
"What's wrong?"
"It does this sometimes." Mia shook her wrist in frustration as she tried to reset the device.
"Is it broken?"
"It's not that. Sometimes it doesn't do what I need it to. In fact, it’ll do the exact opposite."
"Do you want me to try?" She reached out a hand toward Mia.
"No."
The response was so abrupt Kristin took a half step back. "Geeze. Sorry I asked."
The thief lightly smacked the device, but it only increased her frustration. “No. I’m… sorry,” she struggled. “I’m not used to people wanting to help me, let alone take it when it is. Life hasn’t exactly been a bowl of guindas, you know?”
“Actually, I do.”
“Lying to people, stealing. I hate it. And I hate being good at it.”
Kristin cocked her head in surprise. “Then why do it?”
“To survive.” Mia shook her wrist a final time. "You have to when you live on the streets and not in palaces in the sky like this.” She waved her hand at the tower in contempt. “Not all of us were born princesses.” She looked down to the bracelet once more. “Besides, this doesn't work for other people."
"Why is that?"
"I'm not sure. It's complicated. Something about genetics.” Mia gave up as she covered the device with her sleeve. “I just know that I'm not fully compatible with it. Nobody is. At least, not anyone still alive."
Kristin wanted to know more, but before she could ask the door suddenly popped open. "I think you got it."
"Uh, it wasn't me."
Two well-dressed men, hired thugs by the look of their builds and the weapons in their hands, marched out and stood before the women. "You're to come with us. Now," one of them barked.
With little choice in the matter, the women followed, descended a long, narrow staircase to a room that expanded to reach every corner in the tower. Save for a door built into a niche on the right, the whole place was bespoke with glass windows affording an unobstructed view of the hovering city platforms for kilometers. In the center of the room was a towering water fountain that looked at be made of pure crystal. Several comfortable couches and high-back chairs were scattered about, though neither Kristin or Mia were invited to use them. The floor was a beautiful, marble-like material Kristin had never seen before. It seemed to undulate beneath her feet, yet the surface was solid. It also had the distinction of not echoing a sound as she clicked her boot on it.
The door to the side alcove slid open, and a richly dressed man stepped out. His immaculate suit was an alternating mixture of light blue and gray. He was handsome, well-groomed, and with a smile that could entice or kill. "Greetings, Captain. I trust your ride here was comfortable," he asked, his voice thickly laced with the accent of a Frenchman.
Kristin eyed him keenly. "And where, exactly, are we?"
"Why, you are in my home, of course.” He then dismissed the thought. “One of them, anyway."
"And who are you?"
If a snake could smile, it would look just like the expression the man gave Mia. "Jacques De Lorme," Mia seethed.
De Lorme bowed graciously. "Of course, I had no idea the lovely Miss Mia Varela was counted amongst your crew. I must say, Captain, that I would watch my back if I were you. This one is as likely to take your money as she is your life. How on Third Earth you ever convinced her to join you is a mystery I would very much like—" He paused before giving Kristin a full once-over. "To uncover."
"Mia, who is this person?"
De Lorme smiled, yet his eyes burned while he crossed his arms over his chest. "I admit, I am on pins and needles to hear what she has to say about me."
"He's a… businessman."
"Smart," De Lorme accepted, wiggling a finger at her while looking at the goons stationed behind them. "Didn't I always say how smart she was." He then turned his attention back to Mia. "Smart. And beautiful. And deadly as a dragon." He stepped closer to her and inhaled deeply. "You've changed your perfume," he whispered into her ear. "I approve."
For the first time, Kristin looked at Mia and saw a genuine emotion—she was terrified. Kristin tried to get him to move away from her. "I don't know who you are, but I'm sure we've got nothing to offer you."
"Perhaps you don't," he offered sadly before sliding away from Mia and moving to the nearest window. "But perhaps you do. I know for a fact that I have something to offer you... for the right price."
"Price?"
"In fact, the very same price you were going to pay Colt Jackson… plus a small fee, of course."
"Who's Colt Jackson?" Mia whispered sideways.
"Nobody," Kristin lied.
"That's a really tonto name."
"Not now, Mia!" Kristin snapped back, then looked at De Lorme. "What does he have to do with this?"
De Lorme turned from the view, giving the duo a contemptable look before stepping to a table and pouring himself a blood-red libation. "I understand you had a run-in with Balara Security when you reached orbit. Most unfortunate. I hope they didn’t keep you long."
"How do you know about that?"
"Please, there is very little that happens on this planet that I am not aware of, or in this subsector, or this quadrant." He laughed at himself. "Or anywhere, really. You see, I am a lover of information. It is the most valuable commodity in known space, and no one has a corner on that particular commodity like I do. Wouldn't you agree, Miss Varela."
Mia stood motionless.
"In any case, Mr. Jackson and I had reached an agreement that, unfortunately, nullified any chance of you two meeting. It seemed only fitting that I take his place, no?"
"You killed him." Mia's tone was even.
"Please," De Lorme scoffed. "I only do that when I'm truly angry with someone, and o
nly if the offense was personal in nature. Mr. Jackson and I are business associates. I simply asked him to leave at the same moment you arrived to afford him a little… protection from unwanted attention, shall we say."
Kristin almost breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God. If anyone was going to kill that smug bastard, it's going to be me. "Then he must have provided you what he was supposed to give to me."
"He did indeed, Captain." De Lorme bowed less graciously. "He also told me that his instructions to you were that you were to come alone. Such a pity." He reached into his coat, withdrew a chromed pistol, and immediately shot Mia. The concussive round flung her back onto the unforgiving floor, her body landing in deathly silence. The barrel of the weapon was still smoking as De Lorme placed it back into the folds of his jacket. "I trust that next time you'll better appreciate following directions."
Chapter 15
“Mia!” Kristin was down on her knees in an instant. The round from De Lorme’s pistol had left a charred, circular hole in Mia’s jacket, one that smelled of burnt flesh and death. Blood was beginning to seep from it. From behind Kristin, a white towel was tossed onto Mia’s limp form, causing Kristin to turn in anger.
“Please, try to keep the floors clean, mon ami,” De Lorme offered unapologetically. “After all, these tiles are irreplaceable.”
The rage in her easily overcame the fear that De Lorme wasn’t finished shooting. “You didn’t have to do that! She wasn’t a threat.”
“Threat,” De Lorme scoffed before refilling his drink. “She has been dealt with far less severely than she deserved.”
On the floor, Kristin heard Mia groan in agony. She placed her hand gently on Mia’s forehead. “She’s still alive.”
“Not for long, I gather.” Jacques swirled the glass in his hand. “Now we can get back to business, yes?”
Kristin’s eyes tried to burn a hole through him. “You’re a monster.”
“I am what life has made me. And, in this case, I am a monster with information you need.”
Kristin wanted to scream. “What do you want?”
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