Retribution Required

by C. R. Daems

  Kardone laughed. "You're a dangerous person, Zenaida."

  "It's a dangerous business." I pointed my chin to the bag. "How much of a hurry?"

  "Fifty thousand," he said, watching my reaction.

  "Seventy-five and it's my next stop," I countered. He nodded and I barely contained a laugh. He would pay whatever I asked but I had to be careful not to let them know I was in on the game. "Transfer it to one kilo bags and find a backpack for them. I'll be at the bar."

  * * *

  When I got back to the Tykhe I grabbed a beer, brought out my tablet, tapped it three times, typed RetributionRequired, and instantly multiple icons appeared. I tapped the footprint icon and watched as two men's footprints were shown going to the control room then to the missile room. I slammed the table again and again as I screamed, "Bastards." They had free access to my system and the ship. I was a bloody slave for the Black Hand. They would pay, I swore.

  * * *

  Kraig arrived the next day. "Was Vayk a good choice?" he asked as he sat.

  "I doubt it mattered. They were paying for information on my location and had offers to smuggle illegal drugs to…" I smiled when Kraig spoke.

  "Tyrus!"

  "Correct. Seventy-five thousand credits for drugs worth maybe twenty-five to transport. They justified the bonus on the pretext of needing it delivered immediately." I snorted. "Tyrus probably already has a two-year supply on hand. And of course, Zenaida is greedy and stupid."

  Kraig choked on his coffee. "The Black Hand is going to make you rich."

  "The trick will be living to spend it."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Star System: Tyrus

  "What's the plan, Zen?" Kraig asked as we prepared to leave the Tykhe.

  "I don’t have a clue. I was told I could find Osoriao at the Club Royal, so I'll have to go there to give him his heroin."

  "They could kidnap you," Kraig said, frowning in thought. I shrugged.

  "What choice do I...we have? So long as those canisters pass inspection, I don't think they will want to screw up their perfect smuggling operation—minimal risk of discovering the containers, I take the blame if they are discovered, the client is anonymous, and nothing is traceable to them. And they have free access to my ship and my control systems. They could install a beacon so I'd be easy to find, if they haven't already," I said, feeling really depressed. All this time I thought I’d been chasing them when they had me on a leash.

  "If you feel you need or want backup, I’m available."

  "At some point I think we may want to introduce you as my new partner, but I don't think this meeting would be the right time. They probably have concerns about me after my hasty retreat from Tyrus, so let's not introduce any new surprises." If they are nervous, a new player could cause them to decide I was a liability. After a quick customs' inspection, I locked down the ship and activated Clyde's software.

  Although it was midafternoon, I decided to get this meeting over with and caught a taxi to Club Royal. I'm not sure what I expected but the club wasn't fancy. The outside was basic concrete painted green with no windows, just a neon sign reading: Club Royal, A Betting Parlor. A huge man looking like he was in a perpetual bad mood stood next to a wooden door with two jokers' faces—one smiling and one sad.

  "You need a hundred credit to enter and no animals," he snarled.

  "Tell Mr. Osoriao you refused Zenaida entrance and she left with his special delivery package, which I'm returning to Vayk," I said and turned to leave.

  "Wait," he shouted and spoke into a mic attached to his wrist. A minute later he opened the door and I entered. After the sunlight outside, it took my eyes several seconds to adjust to the smoke-filled room and the dim lighting that appeared to be emanating solely from the multiple monitors around the room. There was a long bar in front of the monitors, tables with mostly men playing card games, and people standing at tables where some activity was taking place. A surly looking man with a cigar in his mouth strode in my direction. When he reached me he looked me up and down with a sneer.

  "You have a package for me?"

  "I don't know. Who are you?" I said after looking him up and down. I had the overwhelming urge to have Shadi rip out his throat. It was so strong a low deep growl escaped her. Osoriao backed up a step and his sneer left his face.

  "I'm Mr. Osoriao, and that cat is one growl from being shot." His sneer had returned.

  "Since this is a betting-parlor, would you like to place a bet? I'll give you two to one odds." I smiled with genuine amusement. His eyes shifted from me to Shadi and back several times. Shadi's eyes never left him. "Be a good girl, Shadi. We don't want to annoy Mr. Kardone," I said when Osoriao didn’t reply.

  "Do you have the package?" he finally said, ignoring our previous exchange.

  "Service with a smile," I said, smiling as I swung my knapsack off my shoulder and handed it to him. "I'll wait if you want to weigh or test it."

  He opened the bag, lifted one then the other and shook his head.

  "No. I hear you have a good reputation. You're welcome to stay if you want. Drinks are on me," he said.

  "Thank you," I said. He nodded and walked back to the table he had been at but not before shooting a hate-filled look at Shadi. I strolled around the room, looking at the various games in progress. My stroll ended at the door and I left. I hadn't walked twenty steps when a small man with a Mfw exited the club and proceeded walking in my direction. I knew with certainty that Osoriao had sent the man to kill Shadi. I turned to face him. He was sneering or ate something that didn't agree with him. Shadi, my thought fired and she spun to face him. His sneer faded and he stopped walking.

  "It's either the cat or the cat and you," he said in a cold voice. Kill, I shouted as I swiveled my Bahr to shoot. As I had hoped, Osoriao's man froze as his mind tried to decide on the leopard bounding toward him or the woman whose Mfw was coming to bear on him. I shot him three times in the chest only a second before Shadi reached him. She stopped and stood watching the man lying on his back. When he didn't move she sat and began licking her paw. When I walked past her, she got up and followed. The man at the door didn't have a gun. His mere size would normally be enough, but he moved aside after a glance in the dead man’s direction and saw the hate in my eyes. I entered the room, located Osoriao, and stalked in his direction. He stood, unsure what to do.

  "You want Shadi dead. Fine," I said as we got to within three steps of him. Shadi, I sent an image of Osoriao. "She wants you dead. You're a fucking coward sending others to do your dirty work. Draw that gun, she's ready. One of you is going to die," I screamed. Osoriao had turned pale. Off to my right I saw a man move away from the wall with his hand on the handle of his Mfw. "Draw that weapon and you'll join your dead friend outside." As I said it Osoriao began to draw his Mfw. Simultaneously, Shadi sprang into action. Anticipating the cat would spring up for his neck, Osoriao's weapon rose chest high, pointing slightly upward. But from the paintball games with me Shadi knew that move and chose to attack his legs, shredding his pants and the skin underneath to the bone. He screamed in pain and his weapon lowered to bear on Shadi. But by the time he pulled the trigger, she was behind him and her claws sliced through the back of the arm holding the weapon. The weapon fell to the floor as Shadi lunged up and ripped out his throat.

  "Does anyone else want to shoot my companion?" I looked around the room. The guards weren't sure what to do now that Osoriao was dead. None appeared interested in tempting fate. I backed up slowly to the door so I could watch everyone before calling Shadi to me. We left. A few minutes later I caught a taxi. I sat shaking the entire ride back to the Tykhe. To my relief, no one was inside. Lucky, because Clyde's footprint software showed that two men had collected the canisters less than an hour before.

  * * *

  "You killed Osoriao?" Kraig said in disbelief.

  "Technically, Shadi killed him," I said, trying not to grin.

  "And you're planning to stay on Tyrus? You're twice crazy—
killing a member of the Black Hand and not disappearing. You don't think they will want retribution?"

  "No. I don't. Osoriao gave me a reason to challenge him when he sent his hired help to kill Shadi. Consequently, the Black Hand would have no reason to suspect I knew Osoriao killed my father. And I doubt they have any family loyalty. Osoriao was just someone that worked for them and his temper got him killed. The Hand got their canisters, which is all they wanted. But if we run the Black Hand may have reason to wonder why."

  "It's no wonder you’ve survived in the Rim."

  "Did you find out anything?" I asked. The faster we located the Raiders the happier I'd be. Kraig had a right to worry. The Rim tended toward the gangland tactics of the Mafia on old-Earth. An eye for an eye was very popular. But unlike the Mafia, I thought the Black Hand would only retaliate if it affected business.

  "No. The canisters would make me believe the Raiders are close to Tyrus but that's speculation not proof. Even if a Raider ship stopped here to pick up the canisters, that wouldn't help locate their base of operations. We need to know where they park their ships." Kraig was clearly frustrated.

  "Or...where they are going to raid next," I said, thinking that maybe easier to find.

  "Yes, might work just as well."

  * * *

  I decided to visit some of my father's old haunts, as if I were looking for business. In fact, if I could find some business that would be even better.

  "Where to, Spacer?" asked the cabbie hesitantly as he watched Shadi leap into the backseat.

  "My friend would like to go to The Racetrack," I said, climbing into the taxi and closing the door.

  "I don’t' think they race... cats at the Racetrack," he said, eyeing Shadi in his rearview mirror.

  "Then she's the odds-on favorite." I waved for him to go. "We don't want to be late. Do we?"

  "No, Spacer," he said and pulled into the street, which had very little traffic. He was quiet on the thirty-minute drive through the city and into the shanty town dubbed Happy Valley, for no reason I could see as we passed the rundown houses, deteriorating streets, and desert-like landscape. I would have thought people would be happier to leave the valley than live there.

  The Racetrack was located on four acres of desert, looking like an abandoned rundown warehouse. The Racetrack was painted in large red letters that had begun to fade years ago, and Entrance was painted over the bright red door. I had never been in the building, although my father had described it to me in great detail, along with the players and activities. Looking at the building it was hard to believe it wasn't condemned and was safe to enter. Shrugging, I paid the cabbie and cautiously entered the red door. It was as if I had passed through a space portal into another time dimension—the past when the Racetrack was in its prime--or the far future. The floors were an expensive white stone tile and gold veins, the tables were sculptured from an ebony wood, and the red, beige, and black leather chairs padded and etched with the Racetrack emblem—a skull with wings that looked like checker flags. Each table and chair had a tablet for placing bets, ordering food or drinks, and observing televised events. One entire wall was a monitor containing the odds for various events. Half the room was partitioned with a glass wall. Inside were a variety of races: people, various animals, and mechanical devices. Monitors hung everywhere, each focused on a specific event. The ceiling gave the impression you were looking out into space.

  "Good evening, Spacer," said a good-looking man dressed in the typical black and white striped referee shirt and black pants. "Are you here to race..." he glanced at Shadi, "or wager?"

  "Wager," I said since they were apparently the only choices.

  "Ten thousand credit account required." He smiled and extended his hand. I handed him my credit chip. He typed something then returned my card, along with a plastic card with a cord to hang around my neck.

  "Does Mr. Salgodo still run The Racetrack?" I asked. After a short delay, he nodded. "Thank you." I took a slow tour of the room and finally selected a stool and sat. The bar had a glass top which had small racecars moving underneath. Four men were throwing balls at a target. Each time one hit the center circle a chime rang, and the associated car moved two centimeters toward the finish line. At present, the green car was in the lead. As time passed the cars changed to horses, then dogs, and the game to an assortment of challenges. During my second Blue Ice a well-dressed man approached in what looked like a polo outfit: riding pants tucked into leather boots and a yellow open-necked shirt with a large "1" on the right side.

  "Miss Zenaida, I presume from the snow leopard at your feet," he said, giving me a small bow. "I was sorry to hear about your father. I liked him. He was reliable and always in a good mood. Rumor has it you are continuing in his footsteps."

  "Yes, sir," I said. "Shadi and I have expenses."

  "True, but it's a dangerous business. In fact I've heard your name mentioned several times lately."

  "People know they can depend on me when it's important." I hoped that sidetracked his real question, why?

  "Hang around and enjoy the entertainment. In fact, I'll give you a thousand credits to wager on the games. I might have something for you to transport to Lietzow. It's time sensitive," he said, typed something on his tablet, and wandered off without another word. As he walked away, my tablet showed a thousand-credit voucher redeemable at the Racetrack. My paranoia immediately kicked in—Lietzow, time sensitive shipment, large shipping bonus. Last time it was the Black Hand—this time Uzomo. I’d had no choice but to go to Tyrus, but I did have a choice about going to Lietzow and the answer was no, regardless of the fee. That resolved, I scanned the monitors. Several ugly furry spiders with different colored paint on their backs were chasing a bug. An announcer was providing a running commentary.

  "The blue Hamorii has taken the lead over the green but neither is within striking... I switched to a dog race and immediately regretted it. The number five dog had caught the rabbit—the rabbit was real, crushed in the dog's jaws, and blood was flying everywhere as the dog shook his head back and forth. I switched to a jet boat race just as one of the boats left contact with the water, rotated in the air, and was ripped to pieces as it hit the water upside down. I turned off my viewer and took a long drink just as Salgodo returned.

  "Fifty thousand to deliver this package to the Ranch within forty-eight hours," he said, smiling.

  "I'm not interested. The package Mr. Uzomo wants delivered is me. He wants me and my leopard in a cage fighting something and won't take no for an answer."

  "It's called a Rock Dragon and is unique to Lietzow. He usually pits it against a pack of fighting dogs. Nasty creature," Salgodo said and shuddered. "Likes to cripple its opponents and eat them while they are alive. The audience loves it."

  "And you knew this?" Shadi’s head shot up as she sensed my anger.

  "No. It did sound suspicious but it was a contract for which I would have received a twenty percent bonus. But now that I understand the issues I'm feeling a bit guilty. What if I pay you twenty thousand to take some documents to Samxor, get them signed, and return them to me? It's a legal transaction. And I'll pay a ten thousand credit bonus as an apology."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Star System: Lietzow

  I wasn't in a good mood as I made my way to the Tykhe, still fuming over Uzomo's attempt to get me back on Lietzow for his entertainment, and even more so now that I know what he intended. So I failed to notice the two men standing near the entrance to the ship. Only Shadi's mental alert warned me. I stopped some twenty steps from them and surveyed the area. Nothing. The two men were probably two of Uzomo's sheriffs—hired thugs. The smaller of the two, who was about my height, stepped forward and extended an envelope. He wore leathers, had a Mfw strapped to his thigh, and was smiling. Ironically, neither man looked to be contemplating drawing their weapons.

  Shadi, I shouted, mentally putting her on alert. The envelope was addressed to Zenaida. I opened it and briefly scanned it while keeping
both men in sight.

  Dear Zenaida, I would appreciate you giving Jimmy and Louie a ride to Lietzow. Your partner can't live without them. An admirer.

  Kraig's crew ID was attached to the bottom of the page. When I looked up both men were smiling.

  "I'm Jimmy," the shorter man said. He had the cocky confidence of youth, probably based on his dealings with rowdy customers—not professionals—and knowing he had backup if necessary. That didn't mean he couldn't shoot or wasn't dangerous. "That's Louie." He waved toward the other man, who stood several centimeters taller, heavier built, and several years older. He didn't seem as confident and was watching Shadi and me with his hand on the handle of his Mfw. Jimmy was clearly in charge and the most aggressive of the pair. "Your choice, Hotshot. If you don't care about your partner, Uzomo will probably pair him against the Rock Dragon."

  "If I go, your lunatic employer will pair me with the Rock Dragon," I said, interested in their instructions.

  "If he does, you and that cat may win. Otherwise..." Louie drew his Mfw. I had to restrain a laugh. Louie wasn't sure where he should point the weapon, at Shadi or me. Jimmy had his hand on his Mfw but didn't draw it, an obvious demonstration of his confidence to outdraw me. I idly wondered it Kraig's life was worth the risk. I felt certain Shadi and I could kill these two messengers but then what? Uzomo would kill Kraig and put out a contract to kill me. I could hide but then the Black Hand would also be after me. Better to kill Uzomo, free Kraig, get my retribution on the Black Hand, and get rich. Unfortunately, the only way to do that was to go to Lietzow.

  "Let's go see your coward of a boss," I said as I took out my tablet and opened the hatch to the Tykhe.