I lifted the top off to reveal a necklace with two sheet metal cut-outs. There were two pieces resembling strange shapes. I looked closely, realizing that one of them was the scraggly shoreline of Myceania and the other one was a cut-out of the World City limits. I gasped. The two pendants dangled independently of each other and shone in the dim lighting of the atmospheric Nibs bar. They seemed to be brass; they burnished and glinted in the low light. “Oh how beautiful…,” I whispered, fingering them.
“Now you should put it somewhere safe and not let anyone see it, ok? It could be dangerous. It’s such a unique piece of jewelry it should be kept out of sight.”
"I won’t let anyone know,” I promised winsomely and slipped the gift around my neck, snapping the ends in place with the lobster-claw clasp. The cold, smooth metal settled along my neck and down my collarbone, landing low underneath the shirt. I shivered from the drop in temperature. But it made me happy. The sharp sides of the metal sheaths were not buffed away to make them dull, and I felt a tiny prick as an edge caught itself on my skin.
“I’ll love wearing it.” I said softly as I folded the paper bag it came in. I slipped it into my satchel.
Sam smiled at me, a spark of something in his eyes, probably a glint from the dim lighting fixture.
I didn’t know what to think, though I certainly knew what to feel. He was looking at me, and smiling over something. I felt warmth spread through my middle, turning my stomach over a time or two. “Whatever the wisdom of letting me have it now- I’m glad you did,” I said sincerely.
He brushed off the thanks. “Well, anyway, you’re almost home free now. So the gift seemed appropriate.”
I wondered at his meaning, but stored it away for reflection later. Right now I was going to store up every moment with him, like a plant stores the dayshine and converts it into positive energy.
“Free time is over.” Sam seemed a little sad, but the expression was gone swiftly.
“Next order of business is to drop off your credits. And then,” he handed me an envelope, “to set up a live stream from my Comms to the Federation’s portal and ask you a few things.”
“Oh! Yes, that.” I was absent-minded. “I totally spaced about that one.” It was just nice to see him… to see anyone who was a real friend, I corrected myself, lest I start feeling pathetic.
He smiled.
I had come to like that smile. I liked it just as much as I liked David’s, though for different reasons.
“I must confess it’s nice not to be pounced on for the money. You are the only one of my witnesses who doesn’t do that. You’re my favorite.” He winked.
I laughed nervously and tore my gaze away. I’m his favorite.
This was getting ridiculous.
~
The questions hadn’t been so hard, basically the same questions that the prison matron had dished out, just requesting greater detail. Plus a few more questions. Exactly where the tattoo on David’s friend had been, details of David’s appearance (I recalled the birthmark on his collarbone), the guy who broke into my beach house with him, and information like that was the fodder of the conversation.
And now Sam was downstairs, talking with Tom. They had some issues of security they needed to discuss that pertained to Tom’s cover here on Hecta, so I had excused myself.
I plinked and chang-ed and ting-ed on my outwardly shiny, inwardly dubious typewriter. Tom had jerry-rigged it once again and I was jittery, waiting for it to trundle forward on its dull, knobbed legs. Like last time. Every time it whirred feverishly into industry, I scrambled away and tucked myself beside the opposite side of the bed. Thankfully it didn’t burst into flames or decide to redecorate the loft again and Tom made no comment about the scurrying noises upstairs.
Fifteen minutes after I had excused myself (I was still mentally stuck on Tera’s timetable) I got thirsty. I walked silently down the stairs, going slowly, because I was afraid to slip in my socks on the glossy wood. I assumed the two of them would be done discussing Tom’s situation by now or gone somewhere else to finish it. I didn’t mean to overhear.
“She is the only witness so far to survive this case,” Sam was saying. They were standing near the front door, farthest area of the downstairs from the loft.
I paused, halfway down.
Tom said something unintelligibly low for me to make out.
“Yes she was, and for all I know she still is, but it’s changed now. I think this cartel has infiltrated the DFJU. The judge is starting to get cold feet about prosecuting David and the rest of them.”
Tom was still unintelligible.
“Nobody knows where she is.”
Mutterings.
“Because I didn’t tell them. Something has been going on lately - I don’t trust my department head. If they knew where she was, she’d be dead by now, I’m certain of it. She’s the only one who isn’t.”
Tom was a little louder, loud enough to hear now. “Do you realize what you’re saying?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” Sam was adamant. “I’m saying that it is possible divisions inside the Federation have been turned. Worst case scenario it’s more than a division or two.”
“No. Worst case scenario? It’s the entire Federation after you and the girl.”
I forced myself to remain calm. What on Hecta were they talking about?
“I’ve noticed things. Little things.” Sam was speaking. “Paperwork getting shoved aside, suspicious ways of handling victims. They weren’t going to offer Natalie protection until I pushed them out on a limb and forced them to.”
“Good luck getting that trick to work twice.” Tom sighed, his arms crossed.
Sam nodded. “I’ve considered each member of my department, and I really can’t tell who I can trust with this.”
“As big of a conspiracy theorist as I am, I do not see the entire Federation turning. Not now.”
“You’re right. It’s just that it seems like no one is observing the changes that are happening. And I do need to be careful; you agree?”
Tom grunted in answer. “Always. Especially in your ‘condition’.”
Sam shifted. “What are you talking about?”
I could practically hear the eye-roll. “It’s obvious Sam. The fact that she can’t tell how
you feel should make it easier to admit-”
“What?” He was cold.
“Natalie.”
“Leave it alone.”
“I don’t believe I can.”
“Tom, I’m asking you.”
“This is affecting you more than you know because you’re the one in the midst of it. Just tell her and get it over with so you can go back to doing your job instead of giving her gifts that could jeopardize her safety. Tell her or deal with the consequences.”
“Tell her? Tell her what? That I care about her?” Sam sounded angry. He continued, lower. “She’s under my protection- it’s dishonorable. Yes, I have feelings for her. But not just for a nice girl. For a witness. It’s not a good time; it will probably never be a good time. She was almost murdered by her ex-boyfriend less than half a year ago, for Hecta’s sake! What does that tell you about this situation?”
“If you feel so strongly, just find the guy and shoot him yourself.”
“He’s not the only one who presents a danger. The court won’t hear the case without her in attendance. Under her real name.” Sam was rational once again. “And now I get to convince her to leave the one place she could call safe. I’d be asking her to go to Federation Court and testify in an open-trial where she could be attacked, with a jury that might have been selected by the judge… in which case they could effectively wrap her up with the rest of the cartel, all because I’m not sure if we have a corrupt system or not. She trusts my judgment. And this is a situation that I’m flying blind in.”
Both men were silent, standing there.
I turned and crept back up the stairs, not thirsty anymore.
~
I sat on my bed, f
eeling like the air had been sucked out of my lungs.
I was the sole surviving witness called upon to testify. I could be targeted by the cartel and eliminated the moment I stepped onto Teran soil. And even if there was supposed safety in being aboard the Federation Court Space Dock, my chances of survival were nil if they had a Federation judge on their side. I wondered what it felt like to get shot in the face.
I should be feeling excited over Sam as good as declaring himself. I did, but it didn’t change our predicament. He was right. I was getting over a murderous boyfriend. Of course I’d rebound swiftly.
I didn’t want to think anymore. I curled up underneath my comforter, pulled the covers over my head, and blocked out the rest of the galaxy.
~
4811/10/2/10
The next day was a self-day and Sam was gone again. This time there was no note. Tom told me himself that Sam was going to buy some more time before the date of the trial and my subsequent presence on Tera.
“Just as a precaution.” Tom was casual, per usual. He gripped his favorite mug (his only mug) and stared at the newspaper until I got bleary-eyed just watching him.
“I know you’re lying, Tom.” I murmured to myself, deciding at the last moment not to tell him the truth.
“Huh?”
“Got any more Nib brew, Tom?”
“Yeah sure. You know where to find it.”
“I guess I’ll help myself then.” I walked into the kitchen, wondering if I had done the right thing. I didn’t want Tom to know that I knew what Sam had said about me. That would make everything awkward and terrible. I didn’t want to pry anything out of Sam. And I still needed to test my feelings over him, to make sure it wasn’t a rebound. But I couldn’t stop the satisfied smile that stole over my lips at the thought of Sam having feelings for me.
Nothing could ruin the day. Not even being greeted in the kitchen by the disturbing smell of roast beef wafting up from the pot of hot Nib juice.
~
4811/11/1/1
It was the first of the week, my shift starting not ten seconds ago and I am already cornered by Ange and Simone, the former anxious to give me her personal hard-luck advice, the latter practically salivating over the possibility of gossip.
I groaned as Simone backed me into storage boxes, while Ange kept a lookout.
I should have prepared something to tell them, but all I’d done over the three days was play and lose a lot of card games with Tom, lie on my bed replaying everything that had ever been said/unsaid between Sam and me since we met, and privately glow in a painful yet addicting blend of happiness and melancholy when Tom wasn’t looking.
“Dish, sister!” Simone’s red lips were perfectly positioned into a bud. She reminded me of a chocolate-dipped roseberry.
“About what?” I hedged, trying to figure out a decent lie that was wrapped up in just enough truth to be swallowed.
“Oh blue angels, NICKI. The attractive young man who escorted you home on your annum day!”
I sighed. How did Simone always know? And Ange was no better, trying to keep the eagerness from showing in her eyes because she was supposed to be the responsible one in this pair.
Time to come up with something believable. “Well, we met on an e-portal a little over seven months ago and we have very nice conversations…” my gaze wandered; I hoped to catch the eye of some reinforcements to help me escape.
Simone’s chin jutted out and her eyes bore into my skull as if she could read the truth written there. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“They’re very nice conversations, ever- like, in the history of ever…” I gazed down at my hands, speaking a little defensively. But I could never stay upset at Simone for long.
“Yes?!!!” Simone shook me in excitement. “AND?!!”
I exhaled. “And it’s very nice. Who knows where it will go from here. But there are complications-” A grin peaked out of my firmly lined mouth, betraying how I truly felt about all of those complications.
Simone shrugged eagerly, as Ange nodded benevolently.
“It’s just a different kind of relationship than what either of us is used to. And I don’t know how he feels, so there.” I nodded, like that was that, though my stomach turned over at the flickering thought that he actually did feel something for me.
But Simone knew better. She got up in my personal bubble of space and smirked with those glittering red lips. “You are completely into him.”
“Simone!” Ange was impatient, fiddling with her black waitressing pen, popping the tip in and out in a state of agitation. I had never known her when she wasn’t in a state of agitation. “She met this guy on a portal- he’s probably a creeper off in a penitentiary somewhere, trying to get her to pay for his cigarettes and commutation!” She patted my arm comfortingly. “Don’t feel obligated, honey. (For all we know, he could be my ex-husband.) You don’t owe him a thing.”
“Unless, you know, you want to…” Simone’s look was devilish. Simone was a wonderful prankster, but sometimes people could get the wrong impression of her. She was really a sweetheart on the inside, but her lack of inhibitions often caused her to be mistaken for an unprincipled sort of girl.
“Maybe someday I will.” I couldn’t help but give Simone a little squeeze of the juiciness she craved. I only did it for her.
Her eyes lit up with self-satisfaction. “I knew it! I can practically smell romance… Fortune favors the brave.” She batted her eyes, as if giving me a tutorial on feminine charms.
“You know what else favors the brave? Freak accidents. And death. Death favors the brave, Simone.” Ange was dramatic and pungent as always.
“Hate to break up the love-fest, but I’m pretty sure the two of you’d rather be making some tips- and contrary to popular opinion, Nicki is back here because she’s working storage today.” The owner of the Tumbler, Carrie (she never told us her surname), was chipper, but firm as she interrupted us.
The two parted reluctantly. I couldn’t help but smile. When this was all over, I’d miss the odd couple. They were practically sisters, Ange having babysat Simone as a toddler and then marrying Simone’s older brother years afterward. They had bonded even more when Simone’s brother was put in prison. They watched over each other like hens and chicks and often displayed the same taste in shenanigans and pranks. I couldn’t imagine the Tumbler without them; I couldn’t imagine World City without them.
“Nicki? You alright?” Carrie was more of a firm mother to us than an employer, but it was exactly what we all needed.
“Mm hmm!” I nodded, smiling.
She seemed satisfied. “Okay. When they get to be too much, you let me know. I can change your shifts.”
“That won’t be a problem, Carrie. They’re fine, really.” They make me feel like I’m at home.
For the rest of the day I dodged well-meaning attempts to corner me and slipped home without getting stuck in one of Ange’s monologues about the fickleness of the male species or one of Simone’s incredibly detailed interrogations.
I chuckled and sighed on the bus ride home. They were more genuine and caring than the friends I had at Trect. My chin propped in my hand, I stared out the fogged up bus windows and blankly stared at the bright neon signs, dark motorcycles whizzing past, and lack of vegetation as we puttered through the metropolis. I thought about whether or not I would willingly live here, in World City for the rest of my life. It was just a hypothetical question. I didn’t expect to have to, unless things with the Federation took a turn for the worse. Sam had gotten an elongation of the trial proceedings, so nothing was happening until early Spring of 4812. I don’t know how that could possibly help anything, but I was new to the whole court process, so I leaned back and tried to take the opportunity to day dream a little on the ride home.
~
4811/11/1/2
It was time to call Sam. I had been putting it off since yesterday. I sighed just as the Comms line was picked up. I could hear Sam’s familiar pattern
of breathing on the other end and closed my eyes, listening to him.
“Hello, Nicki,” he finally said. He sounded somewhat tired- no, more like exhausted. He sounded old, much older than Tom Silas.
“Hey, Sam,” I replied, my voice steady. “Just calling for my check-in.”
“Yeah- I was just about to call you, but I realized I needed a moment before I did that. Some things came up and I had to deal with them, so forgive me. My mind is a little scattered at the moment.”
“No problem. If I had your job I’d always be scattered.” I hoped to make him laugh. He gave a small, pitiful chuckle, like he was in pain. I bit my lip. “It must be a lot to deal with, even on a good day. I bet it’s tough, being an awesome upholder-of-the-law.” Now I could hear the smile on his face as he adjusted the Comms against his cheek.
Fortune's Detour: Prequel of the Deka Series by Abigail Schwaig Page 14
