by JN Chaney
“You should listen to your assistant,” I said. “Are you two ready?”
They both gave me a nod and we began walking through the promenade, which to my surprise was far less congested than normal. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d never seen it this empty. There were, at most, two dozen people quietly walking between the different shops—a stark contrast to the typical crowds I might normally have to wade through.
I stopped as Ollie’s shop came into view on the other end of the promenade. The shutter was closed, something I’d only seen once in the three years I’d known the man.
“Is something wrong, Captain?” asked Hitchens.
“Can you wait here? I need to go and have a look.”
“Certainly.” He looked at his apprentice. “Octavia, let’s have ourselves a seat at that restaurant. Shall we?”
“I could use the meal,” she answered.
“Salad for me,” he said, rubbing his belly.
“You always say that, but you just end up getting a steak.”
He chuckled. “It’s a problem.” They started to leave. “We’ll be over here when you’re ready, Captain.”
I nodded, then proceeded to Ollie’s shop. As I drew closer, I saw there was a sign posted.
CLOSED – STATION SECURITY
The only other time I had seen this Ollie shut down the shop was when he had a run-in with a rogue trash dispenser. The machine malfunctioned as he was trying to dig out some discarded metal, severing three of his fingers in the process. Much to everyone’s shock, he had to close the business for nearly twelve hours while he sat in the medbay getting them sewn back on.
When it happened, he didn’t bother with a sign. This one said it was from Security, which was even stranger.
“Hey,” I heard a voice say from behind me.
I turned to see a girl standing there, chewing on some gum and crossing her arms. It was one of the shoe shop girls from across the divide. I recognized her face because she was always staring at me when I came to Ollie’s shop. “Yeah?” I said.
“You lookin’ for the guy who runs this place?” She had obnoxiously bright clothes and too much jewelry.
“Sure. You know where he is?” I asked.
She nodded, her long earrings clanging against her neck. “Oh dear, oh dear. You seem like a nice fella. I’m sorry to have to tell you, but he’s dead.”
For a second, I thought I must have misheard her, she was speaking so fast. “What was that?”
“That guy, the one who owns this place. He’s dead, honey. They found him a few hours ago with a bullet in his head. To think, something like that would happen here.”
I looked back at the sign. “What the…?” I whispered, totally in disbelief. “Ollie’s…dead?”
“Oh, honey, it’s such a scandal. The whole floor’s talking about it. Me and the other girls are thinking it’s probably a hit, you know? Like maybe someone was after him. Danni said she heard from her cousin that Paule over at the bar had something to do with it, but I know Paule and he ain’t the kind of guy, you know? He wouldn’t go and—”
I blinked, trying to focus on the sign in front of me. Maybe if I went and talked to Security, they could tell me what happened. Hopefully this woman was making everything up, or maybe she was just stupid.
I turned away from both her and the shop. “Thanks. I have to go,” I said.
“All right, mister. You take care. Try not to end up like that guy. Be careful.”
I didn’t answer. “Dammit, Ollie,” I muttered as I left that section of the promenade.
Hitchens waved at me as I passed the restaurant. He took a bite from a steak, a large grin on his face. He started to rise from his seat, but I motioned for him to sit, so he did.
“I have to go talk to Security,” I said, when I got near their table.
“Is everything okay?” asked Octavia. “You look disturbed.”
“Just wait for me here. If I’m not back in a few hours, go to the hotel and join the others. I’ll call you.”
Despite their clear confusion, they both nodded. “We’ll do as you ask,” said Octavia.
“Thanks,” I said.
Hitchens raised his finger. “Captain, if I might. You look a bit concerned. Are you certain everything is—”
“Just stay out of trouble,” I said, then turned and left the restaurant.
What that woman had told me had to be wrong. There was no way Ollie could be dead. Not that squirrely little jackass. Not in a million years.
It just wasn’t possible.
* * *
The Security clerk sat behind the counter with his blue suit and a thin pair of glasses. “Ollie Trinidad? Yes, I do believe he passed away this morning.”
I felt my shoulders tense. “The owner of—”
“Taurus Gifts and Memorabilia,” finished the clerk. “That’s the one. Are you a family member?”
“No. Can you tell me what happened?”
“Only part of it. I’m afraid the investigation is currently still open, which means we can’t disclose some of the details. I’m sure you understand.”
“Can you at least tell me how he died?”
The clerk looked at his screen for a moment. “It seems he was shot late last night. Could I take down your information? If you’re an associate of Mr. Trinidad’s, Sergeant Deekon will probably want to ask you some questions.”
I turned and walked to the door. “Thanks for your help.”
The clerk didn’t press me for a name, most likely because their cameras would pull my ID as soon as I left. If they connected the dots and learned about my association with Ollie, I’d have them breathing down my neck before the end of the day.
Several televisions were mounted along the corridor walls, displaying various criminals and missing civilians. I saw a boy who had disappeared a few months ago named Connor Luce, six years old.
MISSING – CONNOR LUCE
AGE: 6
HAIR COLOR: BLACK
EYE COLOR: HAZEL
IMPORTANT NOTE: PLEASE REPORT SIGHTINGS TO YOUR LOCAL SECURITY OFFICE.
THANK YOU.
Beside him, I saw the photo of a man with orange hair and freckles. He had a thick pair of glasses and messy clothes.
WANTED – LANDON O’TOOLE
AGE: 52
HAIR COLOR: RED
EYE COLOR: GREEN
HEIGHT: 6’3’’
CRIMES: SIX COUNTS OF MURDER, ARSON, GRAND THEFT
BEWARE: SUSPECT IS ARMED AND CONSIDERED EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.
The next display, which had been dimly lit until I was close enough for the sensor to pick me up. When it did, the screen brightened, and I saw a familiar face that gave me pause.
On it, there was a woman, dressed in holy garments. My eyes widened as I realized who it was.
WANTED - ABIGAIL PRYAR
AGE: 35
HAIR COLOR: BLONDE
EYE COLOR: GREEN
HEIGHT: 5’10’’
CRIMES: MURDER, THEFT, ASSAULT, CONSPIRACY TO COMMIT MURDER, KIDNAPPING
BEWARE: SUSPECT IS ARMED AND CONSIDERED EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.
I stared at the image, a little beside myself. I had known she had a warrant out for her arrest, but to see it here on Taurus was surprising. We weren’t in Union space, which should have meant any criminal acts performed in Union territory were null and void. That didn’t mean the person couldn’t be pursued, just that their crimes weren’t publicized. Not out here in the Deadlands.
If we started doing that, half the people in this region would be placed under arrest, myself included.
I turned and continued walking, leaving the screen with Abigail’s face behind me. I had other things to worry about right now.
As I rounded the corner and entered the promenade, I saw the closed shutters of Ollie’s shop and the unusually thin crowd of visitors walking through the deck.
To my surprise, however, there were now three individuals standing together in front of the gate to
Ollie’s place. Each of them wore a uniform, but it wasn’t the kind one might expect to see on Taurus Station.
Blue and gold colors, tight fitting jackets, and pressed collars. Those were Union personnel.
I froze where I stood, staring out across the promenade at the three strangers. What were they doing in front of Ollie’s? For that matter, what were they even doing on this station?
I tapped my ear, activating the com to my ship. “Siggy, you picking this up?”
“Naturally, sir,” replied the AI.
“Can you check for any Union ships in the area? See if any are docked.”
There was a quick pause. “I’m detecting two ships on the other side of the station. Both are Union, Alpha-class.”
I cursed under breath, glancing at the men again. As I stood there, one turned and, for a brief second, we made eye contact.
I doubled back around and walked inside the corridor leading toward Security. This section of the hall was empty, except for a trash dispenser and a small television, which showed a commercial for Jarro’s restaurant on a loop.
“Siggy, can you put a call in to Abigail’s room at the hotel?”
“Certainly, sir,” said Sigmond.
“Hey, you,” said a voice from behind me, near the bustling promenade.
I turned to see one of the Union guys staring at me. The same one who had locked eyes with me before. “Yeah? What do you want?” I asked, casually.
“What’s your name?” asked the man.
“Why do you wanna know?”
His two buddies were beside him, each one staring at me. “We’re with the Union government and we’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“What’s the Union doing all the way out here?” I asked.
“That’s not your concern. Now, tell us who you are and why you went to Security asking about Mr. Trinidad.”
Shit, I thought. I knew I shouldn’t have gone there. What was I thinking?
“Come on, sir,” said one of the men. “Don’t make us arrest you for disrupting an investigation.”
“I do odd jobs for Ollie,” I said, bending the truth a little. “He owes me money for the last one. I was trying to collect.”
“Odd jobs? Like what?”
“I collect trash for him so he can make those ornaments. You saw them in the shop, yeah? That’s how he makes them. Just takes wires from dumpsters. Well, I do some collecting for him. Helps pay my rent, you know?”
They all looked at each other. “You collect dumpster wire?”
“Not all the time. Do I look like a two-bit dumpster diver?” I asked. “Sometimes I get other things, too. Just the other day I found a stack of vintage Solento goggles. You know how much those things go for?” I scoffed. “We’re talking a few hundred creds, let me tell you.”
“What else do you know about the owner of that store?”
“Nothing, except that he buys a lot of wiring and junk. Biggest sucker on the station.”
“Wires, huh? Have you ever seen anyone suspicious come into the shop?”
“Like a criminal?” I asked, pretending to be shocked.
“Sure,” said the man. “A thief, a brigand, a Renegade-type of character.”
“Oh, a Renegade? Now that you mention it, there was this one guy. I saw him with a woman. He came into that shop and then left. That was a week ago. I think his name was Landon.”
“Are you certain that was it?” asked the first.
“Something like that. Or Lando. I don’t know. He said something about taking off to Arcadia.”
“That sounds right,” said the second guy. “That’s where she’s from.”
“There’s nothing there now,” said the third.
“They could have gone further into the Deadlands,” said the first.
I faked a sigh. “Look, fellas. I hate to leave you, but I need to get back to work. There’s a load of trash I gotta sort through before I can call it a day.”
“Wait a second. Tell us about that man you saw. What did he look like?”
I shrugged. “Red hair, I think. Actually, there’s a poster of him back there. You see the displays in the hall?”
The man’s eyes widened. “Are you talking about Landon O’Toole?”
“Yeah, that’s the guy. Pretty scary. I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a room with him.”
“When did you see him?”
“A few days ago,” I said, tapping my chin. “Yeah, maybe in the afternoon sometime.”
“Holy shit,” said the second guy. “We need to inform Command.”
“Easy,” insisted the first. “Let’s check security footage first.”
“Right, right.”
“Come on,” said the third, pushing past me.
The other two followed, heading to the Security office. When they arrived, they’d spend several hours trying to locate the man on the wanted poster, ultimately coming up empty.
At that point, they’d try their best to track me down. Hell, they might just find the security footage of me arriving with Abigail and Lex.
Not that it would matter. By the time they discovered the truth, I’d be halfway through a slip tunnel, gone to some undisclosed location.
I just had to move my ass before it was too late.
SEVENTEEN
I disappeared into the elevator at the end of the promenade, hitting the button for deck 12, where the hotel waited.
While the doors closed, I tapped my ear and opened the com. “Any word from Abigail, Siggy?”
“I was about to tell you, sir. I have her on the line.”
“Patch her in.”
“Hello?” asked Abigail.
“Hey, it’s Jace. I need you to listen up.”
“Oh, is everything all right, Captain?”
“How fast can you get your shit and meet me in the hotel lobby?”
“What? Why are you asking?”
“The Union is here,” I explained. “They’re looking for both of us.”
There was a short break of silence. “I understand. Everyone’s here in the room. We can be ready in ten minutes.”
“Leave whatever you don’t need. Tell the others to hurry, otherwise we’re all fucked.”
“Is that Mr. Hughes?” I heard Lex ask. “Tell him I said, hi!”
“Just a second, sweety,” Abigail said in a soft voice. “Captain, are you absolutely certain about what you saw?”
The doors opened and two men, each dressed in a Union uniform, stood in front of me.
I swallowed hard.
Each of them looked at me. “Excuse us,” said the first one, a tall, pale fellow with white hair.
“Captain, did you hear me?” Abigail asked. “I asked if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” I said, then clicked off the com.
The two men looked at me, lifting their brows. “Pardon?” asked the second guy, who was thicker than his friend, with brown hair.
The door closed and the two men just stood there.
I glanced up at the display, which read deck 9. Still a few more left to go before the hotel. “Which floor?” I asked, hovering my finger over the screen.
The first one nodded. “Twelve. Thanks.”
I pulled my finger back from the display.
Well, shit.
* * *
The two Union officers and I stepped out of the elevator and onto the hotel floor. I debated turning back around, but stopped myself, since it would look suspicious.
Better to wait here, as I planned. If these two jackasses didn’t leave by the time Abigail was here, I’d call and tell her to standby.
I felt the weight of my pistol resting beneath my coat. Not yet, I told myself.
The two men walked to the front desk and started talking to the receptionist.
I sat on a bench, far enough so I couldn’t hear them, although that also meant they wouldn’t hear me. I tapped my ear and opened a channel. “Siggy, put Abigail through,” I whispered, turning my head away from the m
en.
A second later, I heard the nun’s voice. “Captain? What’s going on?”
“Don’t come out,” I muttered. “There’s Union officers here. Wait inside until I tell you, and be ready.”
“Okay…just a moment,” she said, and I heard shuffling sounds on the other side of the line. “This way, Lex. Stay here, right behind me. Yes, right there. Good girl. Okay, Captain, we’re standing by for your mark.”
“Excuse me, sir,” I heard a voice say.
I turned my head back to see the white-haired officer looking down at me. “Uh, yeah?”
His partner was still at the desk, talking to the clerk.
“Why are you sitting here alone? Are you waiting for someone?” asked the white-haired man.
“I wanted to rest my feet,” I said.
“Why not return to your room?” he asked.
I clenched my teeth. What was this guy’s problem? A sudden urge to grab my pistol rose in my stomach, but I suppressed it. “I’m fine here.”
