Retribution Required

by C. R. Daems

  "Where would you like delivery?" I asked, wanting to get rid of the Velvet as fast as I could.

  "If you have it with you..." she said, looking me over. I nodded. "You can give it to me now."

  I looked around, opened a side door which I hoped was a private bathroom. It was and I stepped inside, removed the Velvet from my container, re-secured the container, and went back into the office.

  "A kilo," she said, testing the weight of the bag in her hand and then examining it to see if it had been opened. "Sorry, Zen, habit. You might be the only person he would trust with a kilo of Velvet, and for certain the only one he would pay upfront."

  "A good habit, Pena."

  Pena said something in a mic and two men, each with a Mfw and a laser, entered the room. She handed the package to the older man. "Take this to the house for processing."

  "Yes, Miss Pena," the older man said as he stuffed it into a leather bag he had hanging from a shoulder strap, bowed, and left.

  "Trusted help?" I asked out of curiosity.

  "Yes. Six more trusted help will accompany them in three cars and stand guard until it's processed." She laughed. "Trust is in short supply in this business. Too much money involved. You're a refreshing anomaly, Zen."

  I stayed and had a meal with Pena since I was early and thinking it an excellent opportunity to see what I could find out.

  "How are things on Sidon?" I asked as we sat drinking coffee with dessert.

  "Like the wild, wild west. Most of the officials can be bribed so there are few restrictions for those with money. And with few restrictions there is lots of money to be made."

  "Lots of money usually means lots of thieves." I decided to be cautious and not to use the term Raiders.

  "Ironically, it's the one crime not tolerated—cuts into everyone's profits." She grinned. "The planet has pretty good security and thieves are usually killed...in the process of stealing." Her smile was ear-to-ear.

  * * *

  I arrived at Chapman's sprawling estate a few minutes to eight and was admitted after relinquishing my Bahr and laser at the door and led to a large reception room. I walked around the room inspecting the various pictures, vases, statues, and other articles. Expensive, but they looked legal. Nothing you couldn’t buy in upscale stores. A few minutes later a clean-shaven man of average height, soft but not overweight, entered the room. He stood appraising me before speaking.

  "Trader Zen, it's a pleasure to meet you." He waved for me to sit. "Mr. Andrus said you'd like to mate your snow leopard because she was getting old and you wanted to breed her before it's too late. I too would like to breed my leopard. He's not old but he's...unfriendly. I was hoping a cub could be trained to be docile like yours. Or does that come with old age?" he asked while staring at Shadi.

  "It's difficult to tame animals which aren't bred in captivity and are inherently wild. I've had Shadi from a very small cub," I said, intentionally omitting the mental bonding that occurred at her birth. "Consequently they seldom adapt."

  "Maybe if they were... " He looked hopeful. "Come I'll take you to see Celio." I followed him down a long hallway, out a back door, into a narrow cement building with rows of cages: most had bars, some filled with water, others entirely enclosed with glass, and a few deep pits with walls. As he slowly walked through the building he proudly named the various animals.

  "That's a Raami, a man-eating snake from Samxor," he said, pointing to a six-meter snake in a glass enclosure. "That's a Black Tsau from Divona, also a man killer." A longhaired ape-looking creature sat huddled in the corner of his cage. Rage rang in my ears and I couldn't tell what he said as he continued to walk and point to the caged animals. These were broken animals, no longer what they had been when free. I stopped and covered my ears. It didn't help, the pain and madness was in my head. Shadi roared, looking ready to attack, claws extended, jaw open, and tail angrily swishing the ground, causing a cloud of dirt to erupt. The guard who had been following us stumbled backward while drawing his Mfw. Fearing he'd shoot Shadi, I drove a front kick into his arm, which dislodged the weapon and it spun several meters away. The guard, a skinny-looking youth, staggered backward, his face pale. I retrieved the weapon and stepped past Chapman. In a metal cage a few steps away, paced a snow leopard—one of Shadi’s cubs or I couldn't have felt the mental connection. His body a mass of bare spots where the hair had fallen out and there was blood on the floor, the bars, and his paws from trying to claw his way out of his cage. His mind was chaotic and in a killing rage. When I moved closer, he flung himself at the bars. There was no recognition. Tears ran down my face as I shot him once in the head.

  "You're mad. You'll pay... " He stopped his rant when I swung the Mfw to point at his chest.

  "You,” I pointed to the guard, "move and my cat will kill you." I sent Shadi guard along with an image of the guard and turned back to Chapman.

  "First, Mr. Chapman, that cat was one of Shadi's litter, which was stolen. DNA would prove that. Since it is stolen property you can't claim ownership. Secondly, the men that stole her litter killed my father. So if you want to make an issue of this, you might be investigated as an accessory to murder. And I will expose your illegal dealings with Andrus at Timeless Treasures," I stopped shouting but had little success calming myself. "Why did I kill my snow leopard? Because caging him drove him mad. How do I know? Snow Leopards all have a mental connection with their mothers. Celio didn't recognize her. His only thoughts were killing. I would kill you except I don't think you intended to cause him the agony he was suffering. It was ignorance. The choice is yours, call the police or let me leave with Celio's body."

  Chapman wasn't happy, but the thought of a police investigation into his illegal activities and the fact I had legal ownership made him decide to ignore the incident. I had the taxi take me back to Pena's place. On the ride there, I threw up twice. I collected Celio's body from the taxi's trunk and gave the cabbie a twenty-credit tip to make up for the mess. Inside, the guards weren't happy, but allowed me in with the carcass.

  "Dead?" Pena asked when I entered. I nodded.

  "I need a favor, Pena. A place where I can have my leopard's body incinerated."

  "I imagine you could get a good price for him," Pena said, then shook her head. "That's why we all like you, Zen. You're a breath of fresh air among us hyenas. Yes, rest while I take care of some business. My house has what you need and I'll let you supervise the event so you know it was done right." She left me in her office and disappeared. I slept off and on between nightmares of snow leopards being killed and tortured. Each time I woke Shadi sat in the same place, guarding Celio's dead body.

  When Pena returned, she had her limo drive us into the country to her estate, which included an ultra-modern three-story house and a collection of smaller buildings well detached from the main house. True to her word, one had a good-sized modern incinerator. I cried and howled like I hadn't since I was a baby as I placed Celio into the furnace and watched until I was positive there was nothing worth salvaging.

  "Thank you, Pena." I gave her a hug. I left shortly afterward in her limo, which drove me back to the spaceport.

  * * *

  If I had been on my own I would have left Sidon for Hohhot, but I owed my passenger some time to snoop around. After two days of too little sleep and too many depressing thoughts I decided to leave the Tykhe and see if I could drum up some business. Early that evening I left for the Shootout Lounge where I had done business several years ago. When I arrived the nightclub was less than half full. I took a seat at the bar, which ran three quarters the length of the room and ended at a glassed room. Behind the bar hung hundreds of weapons from different systems, dating back centuries. There were even ancient weapons used on old-Earth. The top of the bar contained a video interface where one could inspect each weapon hanging on the wall, read its history, and see a demonstration. For a price you could rent one, along with ammo, go into the glassed enclosure, and shoot it at stationary or moving targets. And each nig
ht there was a shoot-off for prizes. Consequently by ten pm, the place would be filled to capacity. The tables were positioned for a good view of the shooting cage and monitors for viewing the activity were positioned around the room.

  "Welcome, Spacer. What will it be?" asked a young man in leathers, with a Mfw hung across his chest. Uniquely, the people behind the bar acted as security as well as bartenders. A necessary precaution because the collection of weapons hanging behind the bar was worth a small fortune, potential trouble in the cage, and every customer in the room was carrying at least one weapon.

  "Blue Ice," I said. After my father's death I decided being on my own was dangerous enough without making myself defenseless with stimulants.

  "Staying sober for the shootout?" The young man smiled knowingly.

  I shook my head. "I wouldn't be any competition for the shooters here."

  He shrugged and left. When he returned with my drink, I swiped my credit chip across the bar's reader and my name appeared, creating a credit tab.

  To pass the time I called up information on several of the interesting weapons hanging there while I scanned the people coming and going and watched individuals trying out various weapons. Men outnumbered women six to one. At ten that evening the first match with lasers against moving targets began. A clean-cut middle-aged man won. Halfway through the Mfw contests, an athletic man with dead eyes approached my stool.

  "Miss Zen, Mr. Mahavir would like to speak to you." He nodded to a staircase that led to a small balcony overhanging the entrance. I rose and followed him past the two guards at the foot of the stairs. At the top were four tables that could seat four to six people and in the corner a large red leather booth that could hold six to eight. Mahavir, sat in the middle of the booth that held three young women and an older man. Four armed guards were stationed around the room. Mahavir smiled and waved me over. The balcony had a poor view of the glass cage but monitors on the wall showed multiple views of the inside from several angles.

  "Good evening, Mr. Mahavir," I said. He hadn't changed since I last saw him over three years ago. He appeared to be of Indian descent and, although thin, he was wiry and rumored to be a deadly fighter with and without weapons.

  "I was sorry to hear about your father's murder and surprised to see you, Zen," he said, pointing to a space at the end of the booth next to the older man, whom he didn't introduce. He didn't look related to Mahavir or the women and didn’t look like security, more like a money manager. He gave Shadi a nervous look as she sat next to me, a yawn exposing her impressive mouth of teeth.

  "Life goes on," I said. "Shadi and I have to eat."

  "Where are you headed?" he asked.

  "Further out on the Rim," I said, no sense advertising my schedule as it might suggest what I was carrying. Considering what Figueroa was paying me, that two kilos must be worth a small fortune.

  "If you stop at Tyrus, I have an expensive article I purchased for a friend that I need delivered. No one I trust is going in that direction." He smiled. Translation, it's illegal and hard to get by customs.

  "I could stop there...if the article isn't too big for my ship." How dangerous and what are you willing to pay, I mused, pursing my lips in thought.

  "It will be sealed by Sidon customs. You need merely deliver it to customs at Tyrus. One hundred thousand, paid in advance." He grinned, probably at my open-mouth expression. "I trust you and you are reliable. That justifies a premium."

  My head spun with confusion. He could pay any well-known merchant twenty-five to deliver a sealed container. If something illegal was in it, that was his problem, not the merchant carrying it. So what was the catch? Before I could decide, he spoke.

  "Deal?" he said reaching his hand toward me. I grasped it, still numb, and nodded.

  "Deal."

  "Good. Stay while arrangements are made. I want you to have it loaded tonight. Have dinner with me and we'll do a bit of shooting afterward. By then it will be ready and you can collect it at customs on the way to the Tykhe."

  I couldn't remember what I had for dinner or what was said while we ate, because I couldn't help but think I was being played. The deal was too good to be true, therefore...

  After coffee and dessert, Mahavir took me down to the glassed-in area and showed me several exotic weapons and let me shoot them. Afterward we had a small shooting competition, which Mahavir won. His eye-hand coordination was excellent.

  "Very good, Zen. With practice you would be stiff competition," he commented as we left the enclosure. "I've been notified the package has been inspected by Sidon customs and ready for you to pick up." He called me a taxi and I departed around four in the morning—still confused and positive I was being played. But for the life of me I couldn't figure out how.

  True to his word, a meter square package awaited me at the customs office, wrapped and sealed, along with the official paperwork. The customs man transported the package to the Tykhe and helped load it. I offered him a beer and we sat talking for an hour. He couldn't disclose what was in the package but he wasn't one hundred thousand credits impressed, based on his comments.

  * * *

  For the next two days I moped around the Tykhe and cried over Celio. Shadi's playful frisky cub had kept me laughing all day as he fought off the female cubs, poked his nose into everything, and climbed and tumbled his way through his first three months of life. I tried to eat but couldn't and threw up until not even bile was left. In an effort to stop thinking about Celio, I turned to obsessing over the issue with Mahavir. At first I managed to convince myself the contract was a gift from the space gods for something I had done that pleased them or compensation for losing my father. Of course, it didn't take long for me to concede the space gods were unlikely to be impressed with my choice of profession or my associates, or to feel sorry for my father's fate dealing with the Black Hand. Nor did Mr. Mahavir like my father or me so much as to give me an excessive payment to make a legal delivery, even if it were a few days out of my way. Finally I concluded the shipment wasn't legal—but it was! The Sidon Port Authority had inspected and sealed it. So even if it weren't legal, I couldn't be held responsible. By the end of five days I was a basket case.

  A message jerked me out of my cycle of doubts and conflicting thoughts. When I pressed accept, Kraig stood outside the entrance to the Tykhe.

  "Permission to come aboard, Pilot," he said with a broad smile. I opened the hatch and walked to the entrance platform in a trance. He had his bag open and the weapons on the floor. I hardly looked into the open bag and then he picked up his weapons and began walking to his cabin.

  "Since I don't see a second snow leopard, I assume you let the guy keep the cat," he said when we had entered the galley. He went into the cooler, took out two beers, and placed a beer in front of me as he sat.

  "I murdered Celio..." I said expressing my thoughts out loud for the first time.

  "Celio?" he asked, frowning.

  "That is the name the bastard gave the cub," I shouted while looking up. He looked blurred through my tears. My arm swept the table, sending my bottle flying into the galley. I lay my head in my arms and cried.

  Over the next several hours Kraig made me soup and forced me to eat while getting me to recount what had happened and then saw me to bed.

  * * *

  "Thank you, Kraig...for everything," I said when I found him in the galley. I had woken several hours previously and made my way to the Fight Deck and lifted for Hohhot. "Oh, we are headed for Hohhot. I hope that's all right."

  "Yes. Hohhot is satisfactory. But you forgot to ask for your upfront payment." He grinned, but continued before I could comment. "I sent it anyway. From the rumors I've heard, Hohhot, Dacca, Lietzow, and Tyrus are the most dangerous systems in the Far Rim and therefore good places to poke around."

  "Then you will be glad to know the next stop is Dacca and I have a delivery for Tyrus... And since I owe you, we will stop in Lietzow after Dacca."

  "Thank you. You look better," he said,
reluctant to mention the cub.

  "Thanks to you. It's what I don't like about having passengers. I was defenseless... Come I'll give you a tour of the Flight Deck if you’re interested," I said as I rose. He nodded and followed me. "It's a modified StingRay class StarJet merchant/passenger starship," I said after we had entered. "Most are sold to merchants who would travel the Far Rim systems.

  "So it has some offensive and defensive capability?" he asked, looking around.

  "Some. I have two missile tubes that fire Rogue-6a missiles. And the engines are midsize Kesslers with boosters." I said, not only feeling I owed him a bit of trust but our quest may be interrelated.

  "Sounds like you could hold your own against any armed merchant and maybe pirates."

  "But not Raiders," I interjected. He nodded.

  "Thank you for the tour."

  CHAPTER SIX

  Star System: Hohhot

  The customs inspection on Hohhot was excessively thorough, as if they were on alert or had a tip. They examined each item in the cargo hold, walked through the entire ship, opened every compartment, and used a Multifunctional Sniffer. Kraig had followed along, looking concerned. The search took two hours and the officials looked disappointed when they finished.

  "I don't like that package from Sidon to Tyrus," said the elderly sergeant inspector after returning to the cargo hold. He and the other man appeared disappointed at not having found anything.

  "By law you can't open it without the addressee being present. But if it concerns you, put another seal around it and notify Tyrus. I'm not responsible for sealed cargo," I said, trying not to show my amusement at their frustration and relieved I had passed the Sniffer with two kilo of Velvet on board.

  "Was that normal?" Kraig asked now that the inspectors had left and his normal color had returned.