Incursion (The Narrows of Time Series Book 2)

by Jay J. Falconer

  Lucas parked his skinny butt on the far end of the couch. “I would have done the same thing, given the circumstances.”

  “I hope you realize that if Jennifer Warren hadn’t vouched for you, this meeting never would have taken place. Extreme prejudice would have intervened.”

  Lucas nodded respectfully. “I appreciate that. I didn’t expect that we’d meet here, in the woods.”

  Reece looked at several points in the room, then turned his eyes back to Lucas. “This used to be my old man’s place. He was the primary contractor who built most of the area’s miner cabins during the great Tritanium Ore Rush.”

  “It’s cozy and quiet. I can see the appeal.”

  “Mainly, it’s off the grid and off Cyrus’ radar. I don’t make it up here often, but it’s a good place to decompress after a long week of dealing with the mounds of civilian trash in town.”

  Lucas heard a set of rapid footsteps and claws coming his way from the kitchen. It was the drug dealer’s dog and it was headed directly for him. He pushed his legs together, trying to keep the beast from doing the sniff-test again. It worked. The dog gave up and ran to its master.

  Reece leaned forward, putting his walking cane on the floor. He rubbed the dog’s head with both hands. Then he pinched his lips together and let the animal lick him on the mouth for a good thirty seconds, all the while making goo-goo noises, like he were talking to an infant. “This is my baby, Sheena. She’s been with me for twelve years.”

  “Yeah, we met outside. Friendly dog,” Lucas said. He decided to change the subject. “You have an amazing collection of posters. They’re all great flicks. I’ve seen every one of them.”

  Reece paused. He seemed upset. “Really? How’s that? They’re hundreds of years old and I’m damn sure none of them have ever been available on insta-block. That’s what makes these prints so valuable. They’re singularly unique.”

  “What I meant to say is that I’ve heard of all of them. They’re classics.”

  Reece nodded, though he seemed skeptical.

  Lucas couldn’t help but stare at the man’s disfigurements, the peg leg and the eye patch. He wondered what had happened to the frail-looking longhair. His mind drifted to Drew, worrying that a similar fate may have fallen on his physically-challenged brother. He knew first hand that the universe loved to torture certain people repeatedly, then sit back and watch you squirm your way out. It wouldn’t be the first time Drew was the target of such maniacal attention.

  Lucas looked up from the peg leg and made eye contact with Reece. His heartbeat picked up steam when he realized that his extended gaze might have just embarrassed himself and the outlaw.

  Reece tapped his finger on the artificial leg. “Day one of the Krellian invasion. My proximal neighbor at the time, Jennifer Warren, heard my screams and rushed to my defense before the sentinel guard finished its feast. Thank God she always carries a large caliber sidearm. I will never forget those three horrific minutes. I learned the hard way why it’s important to have plenty of advanced weaponry at the ready.”

  “No doubt. It’s only a matter of time before the bugs violate the non-aggression treaty and make another incursion into our space.”

  “And with a serious case of the munchies next time,” Reece said.

  Lucas laughed. The man had his same sense of twisted humor. He realized that Reece was simply doing what he needed to do to put food on the table and make it through another day. We’re all forced to make tough decisions in order to survive, especially on this godforsaken rock. Your level of desperation determines the choices you take, and by the look of the man, Reece was desperate. It was easy to see why he had resorted to kidnapping and selling drugs. He wasn’t all that different from Lucas and his unpopular interrogation techniques: The end justified the means. He felt a strange kinship brewing with the criminal.

  Reece fiddled with his eye patch, pulling it away from his face to reveal a deep, empty socket. “This little beauty is from a fishing accident when I was nine. My brother’s aim was significantly off the mark. Of course, that’s assuming it was an accident. But I never had the opportunity to clarify with him before he died.” He snapped the patch back into place. “But enough about me. What can I do for you today?”

  “I’m looking to make a trade.”

  “You came to the right place. What is your primary area of interest?”

  “That all depends on your inventory.”

  “I have a wide array of items available. Technology, art, weapons, supplies, pharmaceuticals, pussy.”

  Lucas smiled, hoping his grin would appear genuine. He needed to lighten the tension in the room. “Maybe some technology and a little pussy to go. You know what they say about all work and no play.”

  Reece didn’t laugh. “I’m fully aware that my men searched you before they brought you here to meet with me. You do realize that payment is required at time of sale. Most of my clients don’t arrive empty-handed.”

  “Lucas held out his right arm. “I’m wearing my payment.”

  Reece sat up in his chair. “That’s a very interesting timepiece.”

  “It’s a one-of-a-kind item. Something I’m sure you’ve never seen before. Singularly unique.”

  Reece smiled with wide eyes. “May I see it?”

  Lucas knew he had him hooked. He slipped the watch off his wrist and tossed it to Reece. “The case and band are refined Tritanium. Very rare and extremely valuable.”

  Reece put his hand into his shirt pocket, pulling out a jeweler’s loupe. He jammed the magnifier into the deep recess of his good eye and held the watch close for inspection. He turned the watch over and examined the back. “Excellent quality. Someone took the time to craft the seams with amazing precision. This will buy you fifteen credits in trade.”

  Lucas wasn’t sure if fifteen credits was a fair price. Probably not, since most traders never offer their best price up front. But regardless, he needed to review the trade values of Reece’s inventory to know where he stood. “Take your time and evaluate it more closely. It’s certainly worth more than fifteen. In the meantime, may I see your inventory?”

  Reece leaned forward and took the handheld screen from the tabletop. He held it out for Lucas. “Here’s my entire stock. Look through it. If anything piques your interest, let me know. I’m sure we can make a deal today.”

  Lucas retrieved the unit from the man, then ran his finger across the screen to activate the device. Instantly, the graphene unit listed a dozen icons vertically down the screen, each one representing a different area of specialty. The title of the screen said ScrubNet, obviously the name of the underground network, which was sort of like eBay for thieves.

  He wanted to click on the topic PUSSY, but knew that would be too obvious as a first choice. So he decided to start with TECHNOLOGY. An image appeared on the screen of a Quantum Airbook—a powerful, very hard-to-find computer. Below it was a complete description with a trade value of twenty-seven credits.

  Lucas swiped his finger across the screen to review the next seven items—none of them were of interest. Then he flipped to item number nine. His eyes flared.

  “See something you like?” Reece asked.

  “Google Glasses! I can’t believe you have one,” Lucas said, thinking about the device’s history. Google originally released the tech under the name Google Glass, which was eventually changed to the plural version of the same name after the simple, head-mounted smart phone evolved into a full-fledged, twin-ocular super computer and sensory scanner. The technology had been banned, confiscated, and destroyed by the millions under the guise of national security. He didn’t think any units of the revolutionary device survived, at least, not until today.

  “That’s not the only vintage item available. Are you looking for something collectible?”

  “Haven’t decided yet. But this one has my interest, for sure. Does it work?”

  “Yes, everything in stock is certified to be absolutely genuine and fully functional. That in
cludes the women.”

  “Five credits for vintage tech seems a bit steep. It’s not like it has much use anymore.”

  “I could do three. That’s a fair price, especially for such a rare piece. It’s the only one in existence.”

  “I would need to inspect it personally, of course.”

  “That’s won’t be a problem. I can have any item here in a matter of minutes.”

  “Let me think about it,” Lucas said, wanting to save his trade credits until he could negotiate a deal for Carrie Anne.

  He flipped to the next item. It was a dermal re-generator, another rare item. Lucas thought about his face scars and how nice it would be to remove them with this device. Carrie Anne would certainly look at him differently, if his skin were smooth and tight. Fifteen credits. Damn, too expensive.

  He scrolled to the next item. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

  THIRTY-TWO

  The screen showed three of Kleezebee’s E-121 metal transport cases. The screen said five credits, which was much too cheap. He figured the cases were empty. “I’m looking at item TC-3. The transport cases—”

  “Cyrus had them in his private collection, but I’m not sure why.” Reece shook his head. “They are unique, but practically worthless.”

  “Anything inside?”

  “A handful of black spheres; some type of hybrid metal. I checked with recycling; they didn’t want them.”

  Lucas had to have them, but if he did, he worried that he wouldn’t be able to afford Carrie Anne as well. He returned to the home screen, and clicked on the PUSSY icon.

  Up first was a stunning redhead with big, perky tits, a flat stomach, and a small, round ass. Price said ten credits. He continued on, flipping through another ten girls—each was stripper hot—all for the same price. There were also blondes and brunettes; some were short, but mostly they were tall drop-dead-gorgeous women.

  “I’m checking out the girls. The ten credit price—is that for an hour, or all night?”

  Reece laughed. “One hour in-call, but I’m thinking all you need is, what, five minutes?”

  Lucas decided not to antagonize the man by trying to defend his manhood. He smiled. “Three usually does it for me. But I was thinking maybe an over-nighter would be good. Multiple incursions into her sweet spot would be just what the doctor ordered.”

  “That’ll cost you fifty. Plus, it’s up to the girl. She has final say on outcalls.”

  One of Reece’s guards unlocked the door and stuck his head inside. “Excuse me, sir. Team two is en route. ETA for your next appointment is fifteen minutes.”

  “Just have him wait outside until I’m finished here.”

  Lucas continued flipping through more of the girls. When he got to the end, the screen beeped. Carrie Anne was not on the list.

  “What’s it going to be? Redhead, blond, brunette?”

  “I can’t afford fifty, but I do want an all-nighter. Do you have any girls that are less expensive? She doesn’t have to be super-hot. I’m not that picky.”

  “No, I’m sure you’re not.”

  “I like a little cushion for pushing, if you know what I mean. Maybe a piercing or two.”

  Reece hesitated, stroking his beard. After a short minute, he said, “There is one I’ve just acquired. The previous buyer looks like he’s a no-show, so she has just become available. But I warn you, she’s a bit thick and missing a few teeth. Grade three quality, at best. Thirty credits will buy you a twenty-four-hour rental with her. I’ll even throw in the Google Glasses for free; you could record your couplings in real-time 3D.”

  Lucas ran a total in his head for the dermal re-generator, the Google Glasses, the E-121 cases, and Carrie Anne. Then he shaved off a few percent for an expected volume discount. “How about fifty for the watch?”

  “It’s worth fifteen, Mr. Nicoli.”

  “But it’s solid tritanium.”

  “Fifteen is the best I can do. After all, it’s just a watch.”

  Time for Plan B, Lucas conceded, knowing that Plan A had only a slim chance of success, anyway; he was never that lucky. “What if it’s more than just a watch?”

  “I’m listening.”

  Lucas stood up, walked to Reece, and took the watch from the gray-haired man. He slid it onto his wrist. “There’s some very special technology built into this timepiece,” he said, holding the watch in front of Reece. “If you press the orange buttons in just the right combination, it will activate a personal cloaking device. Now, I’m sure a man of your experience will agree that cloaking technology is easily worth fifty credits. Anyone wearing this watch would have a distinct tactical advantage over his enemy. Cyrus won’t have an answer for this tech.”

  “Show me.”

  Lucas pulled his arm back. “Not until I inspect all the merchandise.”

  Reece didn’t hesitate. He yelled for his security guard. The door opened behind Lucas. “Yes, sir?”

  “Bring me the Fisher woman.”

  “And I would like to inspect the Google Glasses, the dermal re-generator, and those transport cases with the metal spheres inside.”

  “Anything else?” Reece asked.

  “No, that covers it.”

  Reece waved at his man. “You heard him. And notify me the moment my next appointment arrives.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Lucas had expected the guard to walk to the center of the room, pull the area rug up, and access a trap door leading down to a basement. But he didn’t. Instead, he simply nodded and hustled out the door.

  “You have this stuff nearby?” Lucas asked, figuring there was a storage warehouse hiding in the woods.

  A serious look of concern grew on Reece’s face. “I warn you, if this is some type of deception, it will be met with—”

  “Extreme prejudice, I know. But trust me. The cloaking device works.”

  “How did you acquire such a unique and valuable piece of technology, Mr. Nicoli?” Reece asked, with a veil of uncertainty in his voice.

  Lucas was unprepared for this question. He threw some ideas together in his head and answered. “I used to work for Central Intelligence, on Earth, Tech Ops Division. I took a few things with me before they terminated me without cause. This is the last item I have left to sell.”

  “Is that where you met Jennifer Warren?”

  “No, I met her at a cocktail party in New Robyn City. We started hanging out and became friends.”

  “How long ago?”

  “A few years.”

  “She is a very unique person.”

  “Yes, she is. She has such a loving heart,” Lucas said, checking the door behind him. No sign of the guard. Damn, he was running out of backstory.

  “Before our meeting today, I ran a background check on you. Oddly, nothing came up. And when I say, nothing, I mean nothing. It’s as if you don’t exist.”

  “That’s what happens when you leave Tech Ops’ service. They make you disappear. Makes it impossible to get another job when your résumé is blank and you can’t provide references, or any form of job history.”

  Reece nodded. “I suppose it does. What do you do now for a living?”

  “This and that. Whatever it takes to scrape out a living.”

  Seconds later, the door swung open and five of Reece’s men walked in, each carrying one of the items from Lucas’ shopping list. They put the smaller items on the coffee table, while the transport cases were stacked on the floor. The men stood behind Reece in precise shoulder-to-shoulder formation. Obviously, this was standard procedure for his crew.

  Lucas waited, be he didn’t see Carrie Anne being escorted through the door. “And the girl?”

  “Slight delay. She’s being prepped.”

  “Prepped?”

  “She wasn’t dressed properly.”

  All sorts of ideas raced through Lucas mind, wondering if they had been sexually abusing her or possibly something worse. Yet, he knew he must remain in character to maintain his cover. He stood u
p, walked to the transport cases and opened them one at a time. He found one E-121 sphere inside each container. He picked up the last sphere, pretending to examine it. Just enough, he thought, putting the module back, then closed the lid. He secured the series of locking clasps along the front of each case. “Not sure of the metal, but they’re damn heavy. Like ultra-dense cannon balls.”

  He put the Google Glasses on, adjusting the fit to match the slender profile of his face. He looked around the room. The virtual heads-up screen highlighted each item in the room with right-angle crop marks. White text appeared above each item, listing its exact dimensions, weight, and construction material.

  He looked back at Reece to give him a thumbs up signal, but was surprised when the unit outlined the man’s face and correctly listed his name overhead. Apparently, the unit had been loaded with the infamous Ident-A-Friend facial recognition software. Shortly after the software was introduced, the governments of Earth came together and issued a worldwide ban against Google’s revolutionary device.

  Just then, he realized that if Reece put the glasses on and looked at Lucas, the drug dealer would know he was an impostor. He removed the glasses and put them on the coffee table, farther away from Reece than before. Time to shift everyone’s focus, he decided.

  He grabbed the dermal re-generator and flipped it over. It resembled an oversized tongue depressor with a flashlight head attached on the end. He toggled the power switch on and held it up for closer inspection.

  “Guaranteed to work,” Reece said, tilting his head in such a way to signal to Lucas that he should try the device on himself.

  Lucas held the unit a few centimeters above the scar on his wrist where Rico had implanted the subcutaneous explosive. He moved the device slowly over the wound area, feeling the tissue ripple and tingle as the technology repaired and regenerated his epidermis. Ten seconds later, the scar was healed and invisible. “Impressive,” he said, reading the power level indicator—it said five percent. “Though it looks like it needs a recharge.”