by Jaleta Clegg
I took the card. It was hard, thick plastic. My face stared out from one corner. The rest was filled in. I was supposedly a delivery worker.
"The truck should come by in about an hour. The driver's name is Lief. Do what he tells you. He'll make sure you get lunch. Go to the address on the card tonight when you're through. I'll meet you there."
I shook my head. "This isn't what I was told to expect."
"You think I'm working for the government?" she said her voice hard as flint. "If I were, you would already be dead. Or locked up in a prison cell waiting to die." Her voice softened. "Trust me, Dace. Lowell sent you to help us. The Patrol finally found one of our letters. We've smuggled enough out over the last few years."
I shook my head. Lowell hadn't said anything about letters. He hadn't said anything about an organization either.
"Mennis was one of us," she continued. "He was caught last month. They tortured him for days. He died without betraying us. I found his messages. He'd been working with the Patrol, passing reports. That's where I learned about you."
I fingered my new id suspiciously.
She threw up her hands in exasperation. "Don't believe me. See how long you last before you get caught. Tivor is not friendly to outsiders."
"I'm not an outsider."
"That's what you think."
I looked up at her, meeting her eyes. She backed down first, looking away.
"The truck should be here soon. I'll show you where to meet Lief. I can't offer you proof. Trust us. Help us. That's why you're here, isn't it?"
"What do you want help with?" I was there to bring Tivor down in flames so the Patrol could take over.
"We have a rebellion. We want to overthrow the government."
I shrugged. "Sounds perfect to me."
She smiled. I wondered how happy she'd be three months from now when the Patrol landed.
Chapter 3
"You sent for me, sir?"
Kuran waved the man into his office, studying him as he sat in a chair, eyes watchful and face bland. He was not someone easily picked out of a crowd, medium brown hair and brown eyes, nothing to catch attention. He dressed in the plain dark clothes all workers on Tivor wore.
Kuran tapped his finger on a photo, a grainy picture from a surveillance camera. A woman crouched near the unused door of a warehouse. She had her head turned towards the camera, her face white in the dark. "We may have a problem, Tilyn. Last night, in the warehouse accepting the shipment from Barbados. They left someone behind." He slid the picture across his desk to the other man.
"She managed to pick the lock?" Tilyn asked as he studied the picture. "She'll be caught before she leaves the warehouse district. No one gets in or out without id."
"That's our problem. She has id. She was spotted leaving in a delivery truck an hour ago. False name and papers, but they were very well done." He leaned forward over the desk. "I want to know who she is and why she's here."
"And who provided her with id?" Tilyn asked, still studying the face in the picture.
"I'll send someone else to find that. I want you to find the woman and find out what she knows."
"Should be simple." Tilyn stood, leaving the photo on the desk. "I should have a report for you by tomorrow."
"Tonight, if possible. Time matters, especially now."
Tilyn smiled his understanding and let himself out of the office. He risked one quick glance back as he shut the door. Kuran brooded over the picture, smoothing his mustache with one finger, over and over.
Tilyn walked out of the office block into the drizzle of cold rain. He had everything he needed in his pockets. Few people had access to vehicles on Tivor.
He showed his badge at the gate to the warehouse district. The guard let him in with a nod. Tilyn joined the stream of workers going in and out of the district.
The warehouse he wanted was one in a row. There were trucks backed up to the entrances of the others, but not this one. A single guard stood near the door, blocking entry.
"This warehouse is off limits," the guard said as Tilyn approached.
Tilyn showed his badge again. "I'm here to clear it."
The guard nodded and stepped aside. He pushed one side of the wide doors open. Tilyn stepped into the warehouse. The lights flickered overhead and came on, dim yellow. The guard slid the door shut again.
Tilyn stood for a moment, taking in the feel of the room. Tall crates were lined up across the entire floor. A single narrow aisle connected the two sets of doors. Tilyn walked to the far side, hands in his pockets as he approached the door that opened into the space port. It was locked, secured as it should be. He rattled it, just in case. The door was solidly bolted.
He looked up at the tops of the crates. How had the woman been left behind without the inspector noticing? As far as he could tell, the room was solidly packed.
Tilyn climbed up the side of a crate. It was easier than he expected. The crate wobbled as he stood on top. There were a few small gaps between crates, but nothing large enough to hide a person. The corners of the room were dim, hidden in shadow. The support beams jutted out, making small cubbies. He picked his way over to the nearest to investigate.
Scum lined a puddle of water in the tiny pocket between the beams. It would be a miserable place to hide, but it would be possible to squeeze into the space, provided the person was small. She could have hidden here, in the corner while the cargo was packed around her. It would have been easy to climb a crate and walk across the tops to the far door. He flipped his handlight on, shining it across the warehouse.
The old door, the one the woman had used, was hard to see among the shadows. She had to have known it was there. The main doors were far easier to spot but much harder to open. The road outside was well lit and constantly patrolled.
He picked his way across the tops of the crates to the small door. He lowered himself off the last crate to the floor. The lock on the door was old, a simple mechanical one. So, she wasn't necessarily an expert at picking locks. She'd made just enough noise doing it to trigger the security camera.
He squatted down and changed the filter on his handlight. Reddish light played over the doorframe and lock. She was professional enough not to leave prints. He clicked the handlight back off and removed the filter. This wasn't going to be as easy as Tilyn had hoped.
He used a different filter, bathing the whole area in blue light. He got no readings. She had been too clean and left nothing he could work with.
That left the photo. She had been wearing something dark and shapeless, with a scarf over her hair. She looked just like any other woman in Milaga. And that was the problem. The only people with access to the warehouse during the night were the crews of the spaceships. He needed to go back to his office, to access other security pictures.
Tilyn straightened and returned his handlight to normal. He poked around the crates near the door, hoping to find something. There was no sign anyone had been here last night.
He took one last look at the door. The lock showed no sign of being forced but when he turned the knob the door opened. He tried locking the door, but the bar wouldn't seat. So, she must not have cared if the door locked behind her again. Or she wasn't as adept as he thought. No, the facts didn't fit. She wasn't professional or she would never have been caught on the camera.
But then, who was she? Why was she on Tivor? What business could anyone from the Empire have here? If they suspected what Kuran and the other leaders planned, the Empire would have sent more people in to confirm the rumors. Why send one woman, a novice spy?
He had to find out who she was, why she was here. The answers weren't in the warehouse.
Or in the garbage strewn alley outside. He wrinkled his nose over the smell and went back out the main doors instead. The guard was still standing outside, blocking access to the warehouse.
"It's cleared for unloading," Tilyn informed him. "If anyone finds anything suspicious, though, let me know immediately."
"Yes, s
ir." The guard motioned to the trucks rumbling up and down the street.
Tilyn stepped out of their way.
He thought over what he'd found as he walked back to the gate. She was professional enough not to leave obvious traces but amateur enough to break the lock and get caught on camera. Was that planned? Was she the lure to keep them from finding the real threat? That might make sense.
He questioned the guards at the gate to the district. They hadn't seen anyone new, not that they remembered. Or anyone acting suspicious. No one else Tilyn asked had either, but that was not unexpected. Most citizens of Tivor knew nothing and saw little when asked by the police.
Tilyn walked back to headquarters, head bowed against the thin cold rain. The woman was a puzzle.
Headquarters was a drab building, a gray square with tiny windows. It looked like most of the other buildings in Milaga. No effort had been made to make them attractive. There were no trees, no flowers, nothing but plascrete and the occasional weed. He paused across the street. What was it like on other worlds? Tilyn had seen pictures, a few blurred photos necessary to his job. Some had shown flowers.
Change was coming, he told himself. Tivor was soon going to be a lot richer. Maybe then they could afford to plant flowers in front of the government buildings.
His mother had grown flowers, a tiny box of them in one window. Most of them had died of a late frost the year his father died. His mother hadn't planted flowers again after that.
Why was he thinking of flowers? He had a job to do. He shook water off his head and went into the building.
His office was a tiny corner walled only by shelves. If he stood, he could see a dozen other police officers at their desks. It was cold in his corner. But it had a window. He could look outside and see the rain. He could imagine flowers where the weeds grew in the cracks of the pavement. He could occasionally watch the clouds and sometimes, when he was working late, the stars. He watched a flock of brown sparrows huddle against the rain on a wire overhead. Sometimes, he went out during his lunch and spread crumbs on the pavement for the birds.
He had no time to think of birds today. He opened his comp pad and typed. He accessed all security feeds for the port for last night. He watched the ships land. He ran it fast and watched as the crews hauled cargo into the warehouses. None of them looked like the woman. He scanned through the entire night. He saw nothing and no one that could be the woman. He accessed the records for the warehouse and found the name of the ship that unloaded cargo. He focused on that ship and still saw no one that could be the woman. All crew was accounted for before the ship lifted.
Then how had the woman gotten into the warehouse? And why pick the lock into the city if that's where she had come from? She had to have gotten off the ship somehow and he had just missed it. He watched the feed again, slower this time. The crew going in and out of the ship were impossible to count in the feed. He saw no one go in the warehouse who didn't come back out. He finally shook his head. That was a dead end. He had to find out where the woman went afterwards.
He retrieved the photo from the file Kuran had left for him. He studied it a long moment. The security system was off while the crews unloaded cargo. The camera was set after the crew finished and left. It only took pictures if a sound triggered it. A way to save cost, it might cost them everything if he couldn't find the woman.
So far, all he was finding were dead ends.
He held the photo, studying her face, memorizing every shadowed detail.
Chapter 4
Lief picked me up, just as Rian promised. I climbed into the cab of the truck beside him. He pushed the truck into gear. We rumbled down the street in a line of other trucks leaving the manufacturing plants.
He pulled into line, waiting his turn to pass through the gate. How good was the id Rian had given me? I had to trust her and I didn't want to. She made me nervous. She knew too much and I knew too little.
I fingered the hidden pockets in my skirt as we crawled closer to the gate.
Something was up. The guards talked to each driver, stopping each truck. I glanced nervously at Lief.
He turned to me and grinned, showing me widely spaced teeth stained yellow. "Don't worry. Rian knows what she's doing. We won't let the police have you. Yet."
"How reassuring," I murmured.
Lief grinned wider as he jammed the truck into gear. We crept one length forward. I watched the truck at the gate. The guards made the driver climb out while they searched his truck. They let him get back in and waved him on after a brief search.
We lurched forward again. Three more trucks. Each was searched. And then it was our turn.
Lief pulled the truck up and stopped it. I hoped they didn't ask me to show them how to drive it. I didn't think I could do it. I could fly a ship across the galaxy but I couldn't drive a truck down the street.
The guard waved us out of the cab. I climbed out on my side. I kept my head down. I was nervous and it showed, but the guard didn't act like it was suspicious. He was paid to make people nervous.
"Papers?" he asked me.
I pulled out the card Rian had made for me and handed it to him.
He glanced at it and handed it back. "Business?"
"I help deliver—" I started.
"That's what you want us to think. Just remember to hand over our cut this weekend." He leered and waved me back into the truck.
I climbed in. What kind of delivery service did Lief usually run? I glanced over at him as he pushed the truck into motion again. He ignored me, concentrating on driving the truck through the gate and into the city.
I didn't like what the guard inferred. Was that how Rian had gotten her information? Was she running a prostitution ring or was it Lief or someone else? I didn't want to be linked to them any longer than I had to. I doubted Lowell had set this up. Lief and Rian were not working with him, whatever they might say.
If they weren't, then where had they gotten their information? Why would they set me up? Why play this elaborate game unless they really did want me to help them?
No, this wasn't Trythia where I had no other choice. This was Tivor. I'd been gone for almost nine years, but Milaga hadn't changed that much. I knew all sorts of things and people that Rian and Lief didn't know I knew. No one left Tivor, and if they did somehow manage that miracle, they didn't come back. No one believed I was from Tivor. So much the better.
The truck rumbled to a halt in front of a large building. It looked like all the others. It was squat and gray and streaked with rain and bird droppings.
"You stay here," Lief told me as he shut off the truck.
I was happy to comply. I stayed in the cab, out of the rain, while he unloaded a few boxes and talked with the man who came out of the building. The man gave me a hard look. He asked Lief something and gestured at me. Lief shook his head. He had his back to me. The man argued for a moment before laughing. He signed Lief's papers and went into his building, hauling the boxes on a hand cart behind him. Lief got back into the truck. We lurched into motion again.
"So I'm not for sale?" I asked.
Lief shot me a measuring look. "You could be if you wanted, although management prefers to only use those they know they can trust. You'd have to prove that first."
"Not my occupation. I'll pass."
Lief didn't answer.
We made four more stops. Lief told me to stay in the truck each time. I tried to read his papers when he got back in. It was lists of numbers and codes. I had no idea what they meant
Lief pulled the truck to a stop in front of a smaller building in a more rundown section of town. "Lunch," he announced.
I got out of the truck and followed him into the building. He walked straight in and past a receptionist who looked tougher than a crime syndicate thug. He gave me a sharp glance but said nothing when I followed Lief past his station.
The carpet in the back room was stained and worn. The furniture wasn't in much better shape. A handful of mismatched chairs and a coupl
e of tables patched with tape kept a single counter company. The first table held an assortment of battered cooking pots. Three men and one woman sat at the other table, sorting through stacks of files strewn over the top. They gave me searching looks.
"Rian found her," Lief said.
The woman and two of the men nodded.
The last man stared suspiciously at me. "How do we know we can trust her?"
"We don't," Lief answered.
"How do I know I can trust you?" I answered. "I was told to expect one man, not a whole organization. Who do you really work for?"
"Ourselves," the woman snapped. She must have sent a silent signal to the suspicious man. He shut up.
"Eat something," another man ordered me. He handed me a chipped plate and pushed me towards the table of cooking pots before turning back to the files. The woman had her head next to another man's, both whispering as they scanned the pages one by one. The equipment they used was at least thirty years obsolete. It was state of the art on Tivor.
I lifted a lid from a pot and sniffed the blob of gray stuff inside. It smelled pasty and stale. I sighed and scooped a spoonful onto my plate. This was the best food ever got on Tivor. I'd been spoiled by real food and real seasonings.
I found an empty chair near the back of the room and tried to eat the stuff. It was bland and goopy and tended to stick to my mouth.
Lief watched me eat, a superior smile playing around his mouth as he shoveled in spoonfuls of the stuff. I couldn't stomach much of it, especially with him watching me.
"Spacer," he said when I put my half eaten plate back on the table in the pile of dirty dishes. He wanted it to be an insult. It wasn't.
We sat in the office while the others whispered for a while. They took Lief's papers and handed him a new stack. Lief headed back out to the truck. I followed. No one stopped me.
We spent a rainy afternoon delivering mysterious boxes and collecting a few. I stayed in the truck, bored and tired, while Lief talked to the people accepting his boxes. Some of them watched me, most ignored me.
