Retribution Required

by C. R. Daems

  "Sorry." Kraig surprised me when he raised his arm, then lowered the right one and unbuckled his weapons and let them drop to the floor. "Someone who worries about the well-being of stolen cubs isn't heartless. Of course, you can't fail to show at Tyrus or not let them use the Tykhe. On the other hand, you can't let them have these containers. Maybe together we can come up with a solution," he said. His pale face a sure sign he realized he had been only seconds from death. "I apologize again. That was a stupid soldier's first response—force—since I don't consider you the enemy. You wouldn't have shown the cylinders to me if you were. You would just have delivered the canisters and considered it someone else's problem or used it as an opportunity to make a big score. No, I've always considered you a potential solution and not the problem."

  We walked in silence back to the galley where I retrieved two beers, handed one to him, and sat. "I think my first thought was to deliver my package to Tyrus, pretend to leave the ship, sneak back, and wait for them to retrieve the cylinders, and shoot them—retribution satisfied."

  "But?" he asked.

  "They would intercept me between Tyrus and my next stop and destroy the Tykhe…or worse." When he nodded, I continued. "I'm not suicidal. They need killing but not in a way that connects me and causes them a significant financial loss, like those cylinders."

  "That means you have to go to Tyrus but deny them access to the Tykhe in a way that doesn't let the Black Hand know you have found the canisters." He gave me a questioning look.

  "Correct. That means I can't just change the access codes into the Tykhe, since they have their own and I would have to change their password."

  "You have to have a legitimate reason for leaving immediately after you deliver the sealed package," he said almost to himself. I nodded, conceding that would work.

  "Except they would chase me to my next stop, and I doubt they would have someone pay me to have another package delivered to Tyrus. Probably steal my ship, kill Shadi, and sell me to some prostitution ring."

  "True. The Black Hand isn't known for being subtle. Especially if they have a deadline they are working against. That means your destination could be as important as the reason for not stopping on Tyrus," Kraig said as he fetched two beers. We were silent as we finished those and four more. By the second beer I had concluded all the scenarios ended badly and I was considering dropping Shadi off at Stanfield's. She would be safe and free.

  "Had you planned to stop in Lietzow?" Kraig asked, jerking me out of my brooding.

  "After Tyrus, I knew you wanted to visit all the systems in the Far Rim," I said, but my thoughts were far away on Tanzan in the snow-covered mountains with Shadi. She knew my thoughts and was lying with head and half her body across my legs.

  "Cheer up. I might have a plan but it requires you to stop in Lietzow before Tyrus."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Star System: Lietzow

  "Don't pick up any contracts here," Kraig said as he left the ship.

  "Why?" I asked but he just waved and shouted, "Trust me."

  I didn't have a clue what he was planning, but I didn't have a solution that had even a chance of having a good ending, so I had no choice but to trust he might. It was ironic. I had carefully avoided getting connected with crime syndicates and here I was an intricate part of the Black Hand—the group I was chasing. Worse yet, I was expendable. They would let me live as long as I continued to serve their interest, no longer. And if Kraig had a solution it would probably involve the Central Systems government that I didn’t trust. They would also consider me expendable in pursuit of their objectives.

  The arrival of the customs inspectors broke my brooding. I laughed as I lowered the ramp to the cargo area. This would be the first time I was happy to see them, as it stopped my thinking about the Black Hand. And there was nothing illegal to find on board—except those canisters--which could get me hung.

  When they entered, I handed them my cargo manifest, which only included the item to Tyrus.

  "Light load," said the older of the two as he wandered around the otherwise empty bay. "Why did you stop on Lietzow?"

  "Hoping to find some business. I didn't find anything in Dacca, and the sealed package over there for Tyrus is my last delivery. Costs money to run a starship and since it's close to Tyrus, my mate thought we might find some business. I don't imagine you get a lot of merchants stopping here.

  "Mind if we look around?" the older man asked, although it was rhetorical since he had the right to inspect any ship that landed and cut his engines. That exclusion rule applied to starships which ferried people between systems and were only stopping to pick up or drop off passengers.

  "Of course not," I said and waved toward the door into the ship proper. The younger one smiled as he produced a Sniffer and activated it. They were reasonably quick as they were relying on the Sniffer to signal illegal drugs. Even so, I was relieved after they had briefly scanned the missile compartment. The way things had been going this past few weeks, nothing would surprise me.

  "Now that you are finished would you like a beer?" I asked. They nodded and I retrieved two and handed one to each inspector.

  "Thanks. I hope you find some business here," the older one said after they exited the ramp.

  "Me too," I quipped. I spent the next hour locking up the ship and activating the cameras, feeling extremely paranoid. I had only been to Lietzow once about four years ago as it was the most remote of the Far Rim systems. My father had taken me to a couple of the clubs and introduced me. I decided to see if the same people were still there and remembered me. Only one vehicle waited at the taxi area when I arrived.

  "The Ranch," I said when he rolled down his window. He was elderly with a scraggly beard and thinning hair. He looked tired, as did his sagging jowls and eyelids. He hesitated, giving Shadi a questioning look over his shoulder.

  "She dangerous?" he asked. When I shook my head, he continued. "That will be two passengers, four credits each, and an extra five if she makes a mess." After seeing me nod he started the engine. He didn't talk during the ride. The spaceport was at least ten kilometers from the Lost City, the main and most populated city on Lietzow. The city sat at the edge of an ocean. The land varied between swamp and sandy rolling hills with small trees and bushes. Far off in the distance a mountain range with snow-covered peaks could be seen.

  The Ranch looked to have expanded since my last visit. The structure was still wood and rustic looking but seemed to have doubled in size. The inside had undergone a transformation from a small old west saloon to a modern bar and sport's arena. From what I remembered, the inside area appeared to have tripled in size and now included gambling tables and several fighting areas: a boxing ring, a fighting cage, and a dirt fighting pit. It explained the strange mix of hard-looking fighters and soft well-off customers. I took a seat at the bar from where I could scan the room.

  "What will it be, Spacer?" a tall well-endowed redhead asked. She wore a halter and boxing shorts.

  "Whatever beer you have on draft," I said, looking over the people sitting around the bar. They were mostly fighters and working-class folks. The well-off dudes were at an assortment of tables which circled the center of the room where the action could be viewed up close and personal. The tables were mostly for diners and or spectators but a few were for gambling.

  "You looking to fight that cat?" a short man with a scarred face asked. Judging by his old-fashioned suit and sheriff's badge, he was part of the Ranch's security.

  "No. Just stopped in to say hello to Mr. Kobina if he still owns the Ranch. It has been several years since I was on Lietzow," I said.

  "Mr. Uzomo is the new owner. Did you have business with Kobina?" he asked, giving me the once over.

  "My father did years back."

  "I'll tell the boss you’re here," he said and walked away. I watched as he headed for one of the booths. He bent near a dark-skinned man with a bald head, dressed in leathers with no sleeves and open at the chest. Even at this di
stance he looked muscular and dangerous. I was surprised when he raised his arm and waved for me to join him.

  I wasn't sure what I was doing, since Kraig had told me not to take on any contracts and here I was going about business as usual. I made my way to the table, under Uzomo's watchful eye.

  "I believe your reputation precedes you, Zenaida," he said with a smile that exposed two perfect rows of white teeth. The smile was friendly but the eyes weren't. "I understand you've done business with Mr. Kobina."

  "My father did. He's dead."

  "Ah, a coincidence, so is Kobina." He smiled. "What business?"

  "Delivery business, packages, people, and things."

  "You could make a lot of money fighting that cat," he said, studying Shadi, who sat looking up at him.

  "Some people like to watch animals fight. I don't," I said, silently including human animals.

  "I'd give you twenty-five thousand credits to fight her," Uzomo said expectantly.

  "If you know my reputation, then you know No is not the start of negotiations." I smiled to take the threat out of the remark. Shadi, I sent with an image of the sheriff standing behind me. She shifted ever so slightly, preparing to move.

  "I'd love to get you in that cage with your cat—" As I felt Shadi move I drew my Bahr simultaneously with Uzomo. I could feel Shadi guarding my back and knew the sheriff was dead. Uzomo had his hand on his Mfw, which was about three quarters out of his holster.

  "Any of your sheriffs draw a gun, I'll kill you as my last act on Lietzow. And if I fail, the Black Hand won’t."

  "The Black Hand?"

  "Be a shame to lose this lucrative business," I said, putting my Bahr back into the holster. "Shadi," I said and she jumped to my side. The sheriff lay still, although blood still pumped from his torn neck. When I put my weapon away, several of the sheriffs drew their weapons but Uzomo waved them to put them away. I left and found a taxi. In the taxi I pulled Shadi to me and hugged her all the way back to the spaceport. I had never felt so terrified in my entire life. Back on the Tykhe it took several hours and multiple beers before I stopped shaking and crying.

  * * *

  My tablet buzzing woke me. When I looked I had a package at customs. I lay on one elbow, staring at the screen, thinking it a mistake. The only person I had visited was Uzomo and I didn't think we left on good terms. When I checked the sender's box it had Timothy Antiques. Why me? I wondered whether I was the only available merchant. Kraig has said I shouldn't accept any business and I was about to check Unavailable when I noticed the addressee, Mr. D. Bratcher. I rose and went to the galley and poured a cup of coffee, trying to remember where I had heard that name before. It sounded familiar... Kraig's real name, Douglass Bratcher. And then I noticed the delivery system: Cirta—in the ACS where I definitely wasn't interested in going. Then I noticed the red lettering under conditions. TIME SENSITIVE. URGENT DELIVERY. Conditions: one hundred thousand credits if delivered in twenty-two days. Twenty thousand per day penalty for late delivery.

  After a half cup of coffee, it made sense, or at least half of Kraig's plan made sense. It was the second half of the plan I wasn't sure I was going to like, since it involved the Central Systems. Well, I liked the first half and second half could be revised if I could think of a better one. I clicked accept. An hour later a customs officer delivered a sealed container roughly one meter by a half meter by a half meter, and weighing three kilograms. A smiling Kraig appeared six hours later.

  "I see you accepted the urgent delivery contract," he said as he followed me to the Flight Deck.

  "Well one-hundred thousand credits is quite an incentive, even if it is only an excuse to avoid staying in Tyrus. Clever," I said handing him a beer.

  "Oh, it's real. It's a reward for finding those containers and denying the Raiders access to them."

  "Why Cirta?"

  "I will notify my commander I want an urgent meeting. I thought Cirta wouldn't be a suspicious system to send the package and it isn't too far for her to travel from Alexandria."

  "What if the Black Hand questions the store owner or the customs officers?"

  The storeowner is an AIA agent. He will tell them I wanted a semi-expensive statue. Gave him twenty-five thousand to list it as an antique. He thought I wanted something to hollow out for something. Consequently, customs won't be able to say anything except it was an antique statue."

  "And what do you expect me to do at Cirta?" Once inside the Central Systems I would be vulnerable and couldn't leave without their permission. Of course, as soon as the Black Hand didn't get their canisters, I would be vulnerable in the Rim Systems.

  "That's for you and Colonel Sherman to decide. It was the best I could come up with on the spur of the moment." He shrugged and his face made an I-don't-know grin. I had to laugh. "How was your time on Lietzow?"

  "If it hadn't been for the Black Hand, Shadi and I would be...crippled if we had survived..." I went on to explain my visit to the Ranch.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Star System: Vereya via Tyrus

  The three-day trip seemed like hours rather than days. I think the space gods speed up time when you aren't looking forward to an event and slow it down when you are. A hundred things could go wrong at Tyrus, and I had thought about each one and a few more during the three days.

  We arrived early in the morning by design, hoping few people would be around, the customs inspectors wouldn't be alert after a long night, and the Black Hand be asleep after a hard night of drinking and killing and whatever else they did at night.

  I left the engines running and lowered the ramp when I saw the two customs inspectors approaching. I smiled to myself when I saw them. They looked bored and only half awake. One was old, judging by his lined face and gray hair. The other man was young and looked eager.

  "Good morning, officers," I said when they reached the bottom of the ramp.

  "Damn early," the older one grumbled. "I hope you got a light load. It’s almost quitting time."

  "You will be happy to hear I've only one delivery and it’s sealed." I handed him the package. "And we aren't staying, since I have a time-sensitive delivery to make," I said and noticed the older man suddenly became alert.

  "Where to?"

  "Not here. I'm leaving as soon as I raise the ramp you're standing on."

  "We need to inspect your ship first," the older man said, frowning nervously.

  "As you know, sir, interstellar law prohibits a customs search if the starship is only stopping to discharge a passenger or cargo and doesn't need to shut off its engines. My time sensitive cargo has a penalty clause. I stopped to deliver that package only because Tyrus was close and the sender is a friend. But I have no time to waste," I waved them back and began raising the ramp as soon as they did. I ran back to the control room and within minutes I had the Tykhe moving.

  "You think the old one might have been paid to collect information about your plans and delay you if necessary?" Kraig asked as we lifted off the planet.

  "I think the Black Hand hoped I stay on Tyrus a few days, looking for business so they could get their canisters, but were ready to use force if necessary. They could have entered while the inspection was going on if I indicated I wasn't planning on leaving the ship, or..."

  "And it would have been helpful to know where we were going. By the time they backtrack the Tykhe to Lietzow and discover where the package is addressed it will be too late and the wrong system."

  "Wrong system?"

  "I thought Vereya in case they have connections on Cirta." He had the nerve to laugh.

  * * *

  Kraig turned out to be good company during the twenty-one days it took to reach Vereya. He had attended the Army college on Olympia and graduated a lieutenant. From there he went to the Marine Combat school on Navan. Over the next few years he saw action on several planets where the police couldn't contain organized paramilitary uprisings. After a very large one on Cherso, he was assigned to investigate the cause of the revolt and t
o determine the people ultimately responsible. That got him noticed by the AIA, who subsequently recruited him. He was now a lead investigator.

  In turn I told him of my life on Tanzan and my apprenticeship under my father—leaving out the specifics of the packages we carried or how they got through customs, or the names of the individuals involved. Kraig never pressed me for the details, although he would have been an idiot not to know my father and I had been smugglers and I had continued in my father's footsteps.

  My anxiety increased as we neared Vereya and my uncertain future. By now the Black Hand were very unhappy with me, having notified their organization, contacts, and anyone interested in the Wanted reward they undoubtedly had circulating. I idly wondered what I was worth. When I considered the four canisters, Shadi's pelt, and mine, I was incapacitated with sweats, vomiting, unable to eat, and nightmares. It took me four days to get myself under control.

  Consequently, by the time we reached Vereya and were redirected to an ACS military base, I was considering plastic surgery, a name change, and retirement on a remote mountain.

  "Major Bratcher, Colonel Sherman has been notified and is expected to arrive within an hour. Until then, she has ordered this ship quarantined," a middle-aged lieutenant said after saluting. He had arrived, along with two armored ground vehicles, which had dispatched several armed soldiers who were stationed on guard some twenty meters from the ship. I wondered if it were to keep us sequestered or to prevent anyone from entering. I laughed, which caused Kraig to give me a concerned look. The guards were actually comforting when I considered how badly the Black Hand wanted me.