Alliances

by S. Usher Evans

  "But do you have J-646 on your list?" Razia asked, peering at the star map of nearby planets.

  "J-646," Lizbeth said, scanning through her papers. Her eyes lit up and she grinned, "Yes! The military is building a few thousand warehouses there to store military equipment until it's needed."

  "Yeah, and I bet they didn't notice that one trucker hadn't been delivering his cargo there," Razia smirked.

  "Well done, Dr. Peate," Lizbeth said with a smile.

  Razia frowned as she scanned S-6642 with another DSE application, looking for life, "Well that's odd."

  "What?"

  "There's lots of wildlife," Razia said, pointing to her DSE application, "but only one place on the entire planet where there's anything resembling human life." She pointed to a small spot in the middle of the planet. Without missing a beat, she opened a different application, this one more pirate-like, and used those same scanning satellites to check for radar signatures. The planet on the screen was then covered in small dots radiating concentric circles—radars. The entire planet was covered.

  "We won't be able to get past the stratosphere without raising suspicion." Razia sighed, sitting back.

  "Is that normal?"

  "Not for a civilian planet." Razia shook her head. "But sometimes commercial companies get protective of their properties. So either we can perform a space jump—"

  "Is that?"

  "Put on a special suit, jump out of the ship high enough in the atmosphere so you aren't picked up by radar, and parachute in," Razia said, shuddering as she remembered the last time she'd done one of those. It was the first time Tauron realized she was petrified of heights. He made sure to rib her about it soundly when he found her five hours later, miles away from the target landing site, stuck in a tree.

  "What's our other option?"

  "Our other option is to have some legitimate excuse to get onto that planet," Razia said, biting her lip and searching for the buyer's information in the Planetary and System Science Academy record. Since it was recently settled, there might be a way she could use her Dr. Peate credentials to gain access, if she could see who sold them the planet to spur some ideas.

  "Well, I could always lie and say I was checking on my brother's purchase," Razia shrugged, pointing to the name. "Looks like Dorst sold it to them."

  There were other notes—the biological and chemical signatures and other analyses—but she paid them no mind. She located the planets on her star maps. It was surrounded by mostly inhabitable planets, save J-646. She opened an internet window and searched for the company that bought the planet, one which seemed slightly familiar.

  "Wedekind Planetary Services," Lizbeth read aloud. "What are you looking for?"

  "I think I've heard of them before." Razia scanned their public internet site for anything of interest. Her eyes landed on a news story, a new Vice President of Operations for S-6642. It was the woman who had weaseled her out of eight thousand credits last year, the woman who wore pearls and a set of killer heels. Antica was her name—Antica Mikaelsson.

  "Wow, she looks like a ball-buster," Lizbeth remarked.

  "Yeah," Razia said. "She's swindled me out of my fair share of planets. But," she smiled at Lizbeth, "she also offered me a job last year."

  "You-who? You-Lyssa or you-Razia?"

  "Me…Lyssa," she said, shaking her head. "I could always see if she's still interested in hiring me?"

  "That sounds a lot nicer than a space jump," Lizbeth said.

  "With her? The space jumping might be safer."

  ***

  As luck would have it, Ms. Mikaelsson was interested in having Dr. Lyssa Peate come in for an interview. It took some strong arguing on Lyssa's part to convince the secretary to hold the interview on S-6642 with Ms. Mikaelsson, who was trying to pawn her off on of the other executives, but in the end, Lyssa was able to secure a meeting with Mikaelsson the next day. S-6642 was less than ten hours' hypermiling time from D-882, but Lyssa decided to have a little fun with her passenger and demonstrate more expeditious methods of traveling long distances using a well-known religious icon.

  "You are insane," Lizbeth seethed, her face shimmering with sweat and tinted green as she struggled against the stabilizing pressure. "I've never…I have to go to Temple now. I haven't been to Temple in years."

  "Oh, the Great Creator doesn't mind me using His gravity for a bit of speed," Lyssa brushed her off with a wry smile.

  In fact, the detour had been so out of the way that they only just arrived in the system with only an hour to spare before Lyssa's interview. She was wearing her normal "DSE-appropriate" attire, although she could practically feel Lizbeth judging her when she walked out of her closet.

  "So you're going to an interview like that?" Lizbeth asked, unable to keep herself quiet at the wrinkled pants, and the lab coat with a coffee stain on the lapel.

  "This is how I always look," Lyssa responded, adjusting her glasses.

  "I mean…you could at least iron your shirt."

  "I don't iron," Lyssa snapped, her annoyance growing at this conversation. "Besides, if I show up looking odd, she may think something is up."

  "What, so putting yourself together is considered 'odd' for you?" Lizbeth asked, raising her eyebrow.

  "Yes. God in Leveman's Vortex, you sound like my sister." She paused for emphasis. "I hate my sister."

  When they arrived at the docking station on the planet, Lyssa was struck at how…empty it was, especially for such a newly settled planet with only one place to land a ship. This docking station should have been filled with ships bringing in supplies and people to continue work on the planet. It was definitely odd, but Lyssa wasn't sure how much she trusted Lizbeth's spying skills, so she was grateful for the lucky break.

  "Try and stay out of sight, okay?" Lyssa said.

  "Out of sight from whom?" Lizbeth wondered out loud, obviously noting the absence of any other living soul.

  "Just…whatever," Lyssa sighed and stepped into the lift.

  When she emerged a few moments later on the top floor, she found, yet again, that it was devoid of human life. The hallway smelled of fresh carpet and paint, as if it had just been installed recently. She peered into the empty offices that lined the hall, each one equipped with the same desk, computer monitor, chair, even the same framed printed picture.

  She turned a corner and saw the very first person she'd seen on this planet—a mousy secretary who was typing away on her computer.

  "Oh!" the secretary said with a sweet smile. "You must be Dr. Peate!"

  "Yeah," Lyssa nodded, looking around to see if there was anyone else in the building.

  "Ms. Mikaelsson is in a meeting, but she will see you shortly." The woman smiled again before returning to her computer.

  Lyssa peered past her into the office where she could see Antica. She was sitting at her computer, alone, reading something on the screen. She made no move to talk to anyone, and Lyssa couldn't hear the sound of any phone conversations.

  She repressed the urge to roll her eyes at the obvious lack of respect for her schedule and sat down. Eyeing the secretary, she pulled out her mini-computer and tapped out a message to Lizbeth: Where are you

  A few moments later the message came in: I'm down in the basement. There's nobody here

  Same up here. I'm waiting to go have my interview

  Oh, be sure to talk about how super qualified you are with all your bounty hunting

  Lyssa couldn't stop a snort and cleared her throat as the secretary gave her a puzzled look. She chewed on her lip, pondering where they could land the kind of huge transport ship she had seen Evet Delmur flying last year. The docking station itself was big, but not that big.

  A new message came in from Lizbeth: See if you can figure out what this planet is being used for

  Obviously.

  Don't be sassy with me.

  "Dr. Peate, Ms. Mikaelsson will see you now," the secretary said, interrupting the virtual argument.

  Lyssa st
ood and slipped her mini-computer into her pocket, following the secretary into the expansive office. Lyssa appreciated the view of the expansive forest before she nodded to the only other occupant in the room.

  "Dr. Peate," Antica said, wearing a smart suit and her signature killer pair of heels. Lyssa actually began to wish that she'd let Lizbeth offer her some clothes as she took a seat opposite the beautiful woman. "So nice of you to come out this way."

  "I was out here anyway," Lyssa said, trying to sound casual.

  "Oh?" Antica sat down at the table and crossed her legs superiorly. "I wasn't aware that there were any undiscovered planets out this way?"

  "I thought I saw one when I was…anyway," Lyssa cleared her throat. "I'm glad you had the time to meet with me."

  "Dr. Peate, I won't lie to you," Antica said. "When I first met you, I thought you were a weak pushover who barely cared enough about herself to get out of bed in the morning."

  Lyssa's eyebrows shot upwards.

  "But over the past few months, you seem to have recognized your potential and taken steps to achieve it."

  "Thank you?" Lyssa said, wondering where this interview was really going.

  "Wedekind isn't a company for people with low self-esteem. If you don't believe you are the best at what you do, you will be killed, do you understand?" the woman said, before pausing to smile. "Figuratively, of course."

  "Of course." Lyssa had a mental image of Antica slipping off her stiletto and wielding it as a weapon.

  "As a planet buyer, when you represent this company, there are certain expectations. We can't be spending thousands of credits on a planet that isn't worth our time."

  Lyssa swallowed her retort about the time this woman took her for eight thousand credits and replied, "I was actually hoping to discuss a different line of work. I'm…rather bored working at the Academy. I wanted to see about moving to a planet. Fresh air and all that."

  "Unfortunately, planet development is a slow-moving business," Antica said. "We only just completed this building and are in contract negotiations for another fifteen. I'm not sure someone with your skill set would be useful during this phase of work."

  "You'd be surprised what my skill sets are." Lyssa said with a wry smile. She sensed an opportunity to steer the conversation into more productive waters. "I do have some experience with dodging pirates. Is that a big problem for you?"

  Antica's face was unreadable. "Why would it be a problem?"

  "I didn't see any processing facilities here. I assume you had all the materials to construct this building transported in versus made here on the planet. Pirates…well, they tend to hijack transporters…"

  "That's right, I forgot your brother was Captain Jukin Peate." Antica nodded. "So you know all about pirates, do you?"

  "I have overheard some conversations about them." Lyssa remarked with a half-shrug. "I know it's a big problem. A lot of government-owned ships are being stolen near here on their way to the arsenal nearby. Any of yours, too?"

  "We've paid a lot of money to ensure our transporters are adequately protected from pirates," Antica said with a smile.

  "Paid to whom?" Lyssa asked, not even bothering to sound innocent. It wasn't completely uncommon for corporations to pay the runners to leave their shipments alone, but something about this place gave Lyssa pause.

  Antica narrowed her eyes for a moment and then smiled again. "You are quite perceptive, aren't you?"

  "I pay attention," Lyssa replied before looking out into the unsettled forest that stretched for miles. "So, how much of this planet have you settled? Doesn't seem to be anyone else here. What are you guys even doing on this planet?"

  "Dr. Peate," Antica cut her off quietly. "One thing you need to learn about Wedekind Planetary Services is that we keep our intellectual capital close. Our population strategy is one of our most closely held proprietary secrets. And we haven't yet finished our interview, so I can't be divulging our corporate secrets to an outsider." She paused and smiled. "Especially one with such interesting questions."

  Cursing internally, Lyssa simply nodded. It was clear that Ms. Antica Mikaelsson wasn't going to give her any more information that would be helpful, and this was nothing but a dead end. She just hoped that Lizbeth was able to find out more. But when she checked her mini-computer, she found the following message from Lizbeth:

  Well, this was pointless.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Lyssa sat cross-legged in her bed, trying to concentrate on the ugly faces staring up at her from her mini-computer. When she and Lizbeth returned to the ship, Lyssa re-checked her plotted star maps of Delmur's movements, and, as expected, the farthest out he had traversed was S-6642 before heading back to G-245. Either he was turning around, or he had switched to another alias she didn't know about after stopping at S-6642. She had nowhere to start either, since all of her leads had gone cold.

  She supposed she could call Harms, as she was quite sure that the informant knew where to find Delmur, but didn't really feel like trying that hard. He had been charging her an arm and a leg when she came to him for information, possibly punishment for the way she had yelled at him, and she didn't want to spend a huge chunk of money on this Lizbeth woman.

  That very woman was wandering back and forth between her pristine suitcase and the bathroom, each time grabbing some new lotion or a brush or a pair of tweezers, interrupting Lyssa's thoughts.

  "Are you done yet?" Lyssa snapped, finally after Lizbeth's fifteenth trip.

  Lizbeth continued her ministrations. "Is there a problem?"

  "How much crap are you going to rub into your skin?"

  Lizbeth squirted more into her hands and rubbed it into her arms. "Enough so my skin doesn't flake off. We can't all have perfect skin like you."

  "I don't have…" Lyssa trailed off, nervously looking at her mini-computer again.

  "So what's your deal?" Lizbeth asked, rubbing the lotion onto her face. She was sitting in the hideaway bed that Lyssa had installed for Vel, so he didn't have to sleep on the Academy air mattress the whole time he was here. It was strange to see Lizbeth's things where Vel's normally were.

  It was strange to have another girl in her ship.

  Especially one who seemed to just ooze sophistication and femininity. Her luggage was pristine, her clothes immaculately hung next to Lyssa's stained and wrinkled shirts. Lyssa began to feel a bit self-conscious in her ratty old shirt and shorts with coffee stains on them. Her hands, which were rough, seemed mannish, her legs pale, and her hair dry and brittle. She fought the urge to go brush it.

  "Yo, Lyssa or Razia, are you listening to me?" Lizbeth said, placing the comb down. "What do I call you anyways?"

  "Lyssa is fine," she said. "Except, you know, when we're with other pirates."

  "Obviously. So what's your deal?"

  "What do you want to know?" Lyssa asked, picking at her comforter. "You already know my dirty little secret."

  "That's what's so curious to me," Lizbeth said, sitting back on her elbows. "You were the daughter of a well-known scientist, studied at the Planetary and System Science Academy. Got your degree." She chuckled. "And then decided to become a pirate?"

  "When I was a kid, Tauron Ball plucked me off an Academy field trip. Threatened to kill me, in fact. And…" Lyssa sighed, remembering her mother's words. "My family just left me to die."

  "What?" Lizbeth blinked in confusion."Why?"

  "Long story." Lyssa waved her off. "But Tauron took me in after that."

  "But your brother killed him?"

  Lyssa's eyes shot upwards before she could mask the hurt in them. Lizbeth had said it so casually, like it was just another fact.

  "Sorry," Lizbeth said quietly.

  "It's just…kind of raw, I suppose," Lyssa said, sitting back into her pillows. "It only happened two…"

  Dear Great Creator in Leveman's Vortex, she realized with a jolt. Next month would be three years.

  "Wanna talk about it?" Lizbeth said.

  "Not much
to say that you probably didn't hear in the news," Lyssa said, trying to sound normal. "Jukin captured him and—"

  "One thing I could never figure out was why Jukin stopped with Tauron?" Lizbeth mused. "Why not hunt other pirates?"

  "Well," Lyssa said hollowly. "Jukin paid a lot of money to some high ranking politico—nobody knows who it was, or how much money, but it was just enough for a small window of opportunity for him to…" She swallowed. "I guess he thought if he could catch one pirate, more money and supporters would follow. Unfortunately for him,"—she grinned—"the runners made damned sure that no one else supported him after that. He lost nearly all of his police force and was told he was no longer allowed to hunt pirates."

  "I heard that when he captured Tauron, he had gone rogue. The entire operation was done in secret without the approval of any of his superiors. His reprimand went all the way up to General State. The fact that State was considering a run for president and didn't want to seem soft on piracy was the only reason Jukin didn't get canned."

  Lyssa shook her head in amazement. "Politicians are stupid. To think, if State had been less focused on his career, we could have been rid of Jukin completely."

  "Sorry," Lizbeth said. "Is it hard for you to talk about it? I mean, you've probably got some conflicted emotions."

  "Not at all," Lyssa said, firmly. "As far as I'm concerned, my loyalties lie with Tauron."

  "So if that's the case, why keep up the Lyssa Peate charade?"

  "Good money," Lyssa said, without elaborating. If she wasn't comfortable telling Vel about what she saw in the river at Leveman's Vortex, she was damned sure not going to tell this stranger.

  "You're an interesting individual," Lizbeth said, eyeing her.

  "What about you?" Lyssa said, eager to shift the conversation. "What's your deal?"

  "I'm just a girl who works for the government, working a case, trying to get a promotion." Lizbeth sighed. "Most of the guys in my office have laughed at me. They think I'm barking up the wrong tree."

  "I know the feeling. I've been in the top twenty for seven months and I still can't get any respect from my own damned runner, let alone anyone else."