Another ear perk, followed by a discreet gesture to his fellow patrollers. We were joined by the two extras, one inhaling the rest of his pastry.
I smothered a smile with the back of my hand and continued as the Jowls urged me on with a cordial head nod.
“So he had a big black bag- you know the mesh ones with really big holes? It was full of clear liquid-filled pouches. And then there was a package- a brown paper one, like the kind you get from a shop, and it never bulged.”
“Bulged?” The second, rather plain and quiet patrol man spoke up.
Three somewhat tired and droopy faces turned on me.
“Do all bags have to bulge?” Pastry man glued his eyes on me, waiting for an answer.
“Yes.” I was not sure why this struck me as so hilarious. I had to consciously restrain myself from laughing. “I find that most bags, when they have hard candy or something in them; they bulge.” I met his gaze of skepticism with one of confidence. “If, and I see this at the academe,” I leaned in conspiratorially and they mimed me, “if they don’t bulge, but just stay perfectly rounded and full, then it’s usually filled with you-know-what.”
“Herbacia!” The pleasantly jowled man smacked his fist on the counter and caused his fellows to jump.
And I wondered at the funny twists life takes- why I could be brought to unavoidable giggles at a plump patroller’s antics and yet feel so hollow inside.
CHAPTER THREE
I’d been in the precinct office for several hours and had talked to so many officers- I can’t remember their names. Jowls, Softspoken, and Pastry-man had all been relieved of my presence. All three had been replaced by rude government workers. And I was stuck talking to one now…
“A type of illegal drug that looks like the cytosol in cells because it IS the cytosol, or intracellular fluid…” The man with head of Cornish county patroller insignia on his shoulder squinted as he skimmed through the ‘official’ science and toxicology report on his desk. He balanced a foot on his chair and half-sat on his desk. He chewed one of those fake cigars that taste mostly the same as the ones that can cause cancer.
I did not like him.
He shrugged disagreeably, “But I’m not a scientist.”
Obviously.
“All I can say for certain is that this “miracle drug” works wonders, but only for a lucky few. For most people it’s a colossal waste of money and for those ‘unlucky few’- the ones that must always be there to balance out the winners- it does more harm than good. This drug has a 2% rate of “miraculous” recovery and a 10% rate of fatalities. All the 88% rest of them have to worry about is an allergic reaction that manifests itself in a rash. Rather harmless, eh?” He tapped his faux cigar against the trash can where the fake ashes dropped obligingly into the metal wastebasket. He continued, his arrogance and conceit swiftly increasing. “But the reason I’m telling you all this is because we need your help, Miz Pryce.”
‘Miz?’ No seffing way- what planet was he from?
“The drug failure rate has been completely silenced and the dead victims… well, no need to worry about them talking to the authorities.” He chuckled.
I felt like biting his hand off. The man snickers over innocent lives shattered.
“…at first we had no trail because of the lack of physical evidence-”
Oh really? Do impress me with your ego the size of our solar star.
“-but then we just followed the money transfers. It’s funny, they were careful of themselves, but their patients were the ones who ultimately destroyed their autonomy.” He was very pleased with himself. “Which leads us to you.” He gestured to me, hoping to impress with the use of his cigar.
I had to concentrate hard in order to control my eye-roll.
“You’re David’s girlfriend, so you probably know everything about him.” The man smirked to himself.
I felt my neck grow hot. How dare this dirty man imply anything of the sort! “I didn’t know what David was involved in until fifteen minutes ago. Don’t you dare try to wrap me up in this mess.” I was icy, and something in my manner must have caused the detective to check himself.
He apologized. Profusely. But the damage was done.
I was silent and refused to talk any more to him.
He reluctantly gave up the office for a newer, cleaner-cut version of himself, minus the cigar. This man had an entirely different persona about him. There was something sincere about his lack of ingratiation. He shook my hand and introduced himself. Sam Marshal was his name. A peacekeeper from Deka’s Federation of Justice United- the greatest consortium of diplomats and scientists that shared knowledge and goodwill with all the planets. The peacekeepers were specifically charged with keeping the Deka Quadrant’s assets safeguarded.
There was something wholesome about him. He was athletic and had the kind of face that belied quick-wittedness and smarts, but not genius-like intelligence. I hoped he was trustworthy. Given my track record, I didn’t have much hope for my ability to tell.
“You can understand their plight, Miss Natalie. I took the liberty of running a history check on you and found out that your grandmother on your mother’s side suffered from a very rare and non-treatable form of Alzheimer’s. Cytosol is touted as a miracle drug that can negate these effects of dementia and restore the patient to optimal health. My records on you and your family show that you did everything you could to aid her condition.”
“I… what?” I was surprised by the direction this was heading.
“Desperate people choose desperate measures. Here- let me show you the e-port that supplies this drug.”
His voice was regulated and watchful, keeping a soft tone that one might use when talking to an anxious child. I bit a nail, willing myself to keep it together when every passing moment brought me closer to falling apart.
The implications of yesterday’s events were finally taking shape and form as Sam explained it all to me. I battled feeling insecure and at fault for everything, which was stupid. I hadn’t done anything…right? Before I could soothe myself, Sam was ready with the e-port and some brochures on file.
I quickly got absorbed in the material. I scrolled down the e-port information, staring at the screen until my eyes hurt. I felt sick. “If we had known about this… we would probably have paid for Gran to undergo the same treatment,” I whispered, fiddling with my necklace.
Sam was sincere. “In all honesty, Miss Natalie, I would have done the same if I was in your situation. It appears to be a very reputable port.”
“Where do they even get the cytosol to begin with?” I was uneasy.
Sam’s face twisted. He was silent for a moment, and then spoke quietly. “Do you really want to know?”
I thought for a moment, realized the answer was no, and shook my head. Then I sighed. “But I should know. If David is mixed up in this, I need to know about it. No matter how bad it is.”
Sam nodded. He folded his arms and leaned against the desk, slumping slightly to be her same height and look her in the eye. “Crimes against hospital patients and their bio-resources are getting more and more prevalent with modern-day technology and the prices such organic materials fetch. However, if they are as smart as I’m guessing they are, they would harvest infants from frightened teen mothers, offer them a small sum of credits to take the child off their hands, and disappear with the child. Then all they need is a clean, temperature controlled warehouse to farm the intracellular fluid from the children. Using a form of psychological conditioning, they could breed a whole population of people for the farming of the cytosol. From infancy to death, they would be hooked up to culling machines and treated like a herd of beasts to be milked.”
I shuddered. Could this really be what David was involved with? Was this why he had no money troubles? I felt like crumpling to the floor. NO. I won’t curl up on the ground one more time because of this scumbag. I settled for the chair and held my head in my hands. “I have been completely blind,” I whispered, “Oh, there were times when
I doubted it all… he was just so perfect, you know? But I should have known.”
Sam was careful. “You’re not the first, Natalie. This happens to a lot of kind, young women. Your generosity of character can be… too generous sometimes. The most important thing to remember is that none of this is your fault.”
“Okay.” I breathed. I can do that. Can’t I?
“One more thing,” Sam reached into his drawer, “I’d like it if you wore this tracking device from now on- we need to know that you’re safe.” He was apologetic.
I nodded. I didn’t mind. If it saved my life, it would be well worth the hassle of wearing whatever it turned out to be.
He pulled out a chain and several pendants. “Choose whichever one is least out of the ordinary for you.”
There was a spikey rainbow-colored amoeba, a small Summerborn emblem (a tree in full foliage) plated in gold, and a silver dolphin rising out of the waves. Of course I chose the dolphin.
“Were you expecting me?” It was too perfect a cover, I couldn’t help but ask. David would never suspect it, plus my curiosity always gets the better of me.
“No, just lucky I guess.” He shrugged. “You seem like a water person.” He looked down and rearranged some files on his desk.
“Alright.” I spoke after slipping on the tracker. It was cold against my flesh and I shivered. “I guess this is where I go back out into the world and try to act normal…”
“You’ll do fine.” His expression was confident and warm. He coached me on acting natural in front of David. I asked if I should break up with him or confront him or if they would take him in for questioning. Sam had been on this investigation for almost two years, so I thought they would just want to take him down as soon as possible.
They didn’t. They (the Federation) wanted me to go ahead and keep the relationship going, spying for them. But there was always another option, at least that’s what the peacekeeper said. I asked him what I should do.
“Firstly, call me Sam. We’ll be in constant contact for a while. Do you mind if I call you Natalie? Or would you prefer Miss Natalie or Miss Pryce perhaps?”
“Oh- Natalie is fine.”
“Great. So what we want you to do is basically just continue with the relationship as you deem fit.”
“What if I can’t be with him anymore because I know the truth?”
“Then you can break up with him.”
“And when I’m explaining why I’m breaking up with him?”
“You can either lie or tell the truth. The choice is yours, Natalie. We have no jurisdiction over your personal life. If you choose to break up with him, he might retaliate by making you a target. Since he brought you to the rendezvous point with his superiors, I think it’s safe to say that you’ve been moved up in his ranking. He trusts you- at least to an extent.”
“So what do I do?” I felt panic creeping up inside my chest.
“Easy there, we’re not going to let you go this alone. I personally assure you, you will be protected through this.”
“How? How can you guarantee that? We’re talking about people’s lives meaning absolutely nothing to these skeggars-”
“You’re an asset, Natalie. Whether you like it or not, you are now a protected Federation asset.”
~
I left the station with a huge ball of panic choking me. It got worse when I got home and found two missed calls from David and a message on my Comms. What was I going to say to him?
I remembered what Sam had coached me to respond with.
“Sorry- I was at the research center. I have a project due next week.” I typed in the message and sent it. Leaning up against my flossy lavender pillows, I sighed and bit a hangnail, savagely.
David... If you found out, what would you do?
I didn’t even want to think of what he’d do. He could probably have me killed on the spot. Or worse- subjected to intracellular harvesting for years and years… I shook my head. I had to stop thinking about this.
So I turned to the pictures. The collage had been made and sent to mom a while back. But the pictures were still uploaded to my portion of the gallery and open for viewing. As I stared at one of them on the screen, my thoughts ran swiftly along the chain of events from kissing David on the beach to yesterday’s meet-up.
Images flashed through my head like camera stills, one after the other. The man with the tattoo; the mesh bag full of squishy clear plastic containers; David horsing around with the same tattooed man… David must have been carrying cytoplasm in his gear and when he saw that I had taken a picture of his contact on the beach, the tattooed man, he needed to destroy the picture somehow.
I jumped up from my desk and raced to the kitchen to check the camera’s memory. Sure enough, the picture of the tattooed man was gone. David must have deleted it. But when? The first night we had dinner and stayed up until dawn? It must have been. He had had plenty of opportunities that whole evening and I had accidentally left the camera at home on our dates after that. But then why had he stuck around afterwards? It would have been obvious if he vanished. I had been his credibility in Cornish. People knew me, were used to me. I helped him blend in and had influenced others to welcome him into the community.
I was his mark. The thought chilled me to the bone.
~
It was late afternoon and I had specifically not replied to David’s messages when he called. I didn’t want him to venture over because I didn’t answer, so I picked up, disabling the view port. I’d have to lie and say I was sick. I just couldn’t face him right now. Not yet.
Claiming I was too sick to be anything much to look at, he had no choice but to abide by my decision to cut the visual. I was healthy, only I wished I really was in bed with a plague rather than talk to him, even over bare audio Comms.
“So, I’m guessing you don’t want to go to the beach then?”
“Um, actually I have a sniffle so I’m staying inside today, probably drink some tea and take a couple of naps.” I coughed a little, for effect, and fiddled with the kettle on the stove. It was an old stove, severely antiquated by modern Dekan appliances. On this one you had to light a match and be aware of the flames. It was practically from the Age of Mysticism.
He chuckled. “Aww. Sounds cute. Well I hope this doesn’t turn into flu or anything. Stay hydrated.”
I tried to smile, knowing he’d be able to hear it. “No, it’s more like a summer cold. I’ll be fine in a couple of days. It never lasts long.”
“Alright, get some rest then. Talk to you later, babe.”
“Okay, bye.” I ended the call a little too brightly.
Thank. Tera. I didn’t have to talk to him for two whole days at least. That would at least buy me some time to get my story straight. If I went with a story at all. I could just tell him the truth and see if he confessed.
“Natalie Pryce, you are in way over your head.” I groaned, fingernails biting into my palms as I watched the kettle brewing.
~
Peacekeeper Marshal called later on that day; he had to remind me to call him Sam again. He was very calm, which was helpful.
He basically just wanted to have a chipper conversation and build a level of trust with me. He was the only one in the patrol station yesterday who was listening to me and treated me like a person when I told my story, so I sensed an advocate in him. I didn’t want to brush that off, so we talked for a short while about innocuous things. Then he broached the topic of David. I suppose I delved into it pretty deep, sharing the whole story about meeting him on the beach and working my way up to the point where I arrived at the precinct office that morning. “It’s just- mmm.” I stopped, uncertain.
“Yes?” He seemed so genuinely thoughtful. I hoped it wasn’t just an act to get information.
“How are you involved with this investigation? Are you a detective of some sort?”
“Of a kind, yes. Actually, I’m a Deka Peacekeeper. I have authority to look into all sorts of matters, because instea
d of having a sector like soldiers or a county like patrollers, I have the whole Quadrant to keep safe.”
I chuckled. “So you literally save the universe.”
He chuckled. “Well… There are a lot of us, so thankfully the weight of the Four Headed galaxy does not rest on my shoulders alone.”
“Good to know. So, a peacekeeper. I only read about them in the news or in my military history tutorials. So, what exactly do you all do while you’re keeping the planets and the galaxy safe?”
“A multitude of tasks- it really could be anything. But, I do relocate Federation witnesses, and I should probably talk to you about this, just in case this turns into something big.” He sounded like he was talking to himself. I smiled. He cleared his throat and continued. “If you should need protection from David or his contacts here in Cornish and Myceania, we would relocate you to a safe house. Off-world. If things progress the way I believe they will, you will be a key witness and strongly needed to testify against David and any possible cartel affiliations.”
Fortune's Detour: Prequel of the Deka Series by Abigail Schwaig Page 5
