Darklanding Omnibus Books 10-12: Hunter, Diver Down, Empire (Darklanding Omnis Book 4)

by Scott Moon

  She nodded vigorously and wiped tears from her eyes. “Okay, what’d you want to know?”

  “Thanks, Lavender. Let’s step back a second and relax. Give me something easy.” He laughed, and it sounded false to Thaddeus. “Like words about that ugly pig-dog?”

  Mast took a step forward, fists clenched. Thaddeus intercepted him before Lavender noticed his anger. He whispered to his deputy, “Trust me. He’s not going to find Maximus, and if he does, we’ll be there to protect our friend.”

  Lavender laughed nervously, sensing the tension in the room. “I haven’t seen him.”

  “I was joking. As far as you and I are concerned, that filthy thing can stay wherever it is, right?”

  She nodded.

  “So tell me about Oman Davies. I’m hearing things on the street. About exotics in a certain secret warehouse,” Zane said. “Can you confirm? Remember, good information means good pay.”

  ***

  Thaddeus, Mast, and Zane worked through the night and most of the next day to round up Oman Davies and his crew. Then, when Thad thought they were done, Zane pulled Oman into a side room and put them through a similar informant development process. He played to the man’s pride and manipulated him with masterful skill.

  “Looks like our next target is actually two targets. Sarah Xax is siphoning exotic waste materials, normally not that valuable unless you know what to do with them, straight from the mines. Hugh Smither is stealing one crate of whiskey for every ten that are supposed to be delivered to the Mother Lode. Just tell me which one you want and we can do it tonight,” Zane said.

  “Xax will be the priority for SagCon, but I think Smither will be quicker. Will snatch him early, then put together a longer operation for Xax. I’ll probably need to work with P. C. Dickles on this one. Maybe we can set up a sting,” Thaddeus said.

  “Good idea. I’ll make a cop out of you yet.”

  “Is that what you were on Glakridoz? A cop?”

  “Humans only have one job on Glakridoz, and that is survival. I got my education in other places, during my first years away from home when I thought I’d never go back to that planet.”

  ***

  “It’s been a long night. Let’s all get some rest, and meet up about eighteen-hundred hours to plan the next go-around,” Thaddeus said.

  “Sounds good,” Zane said.

  “Muchly good. Work is bigly tiresome is what I’m thinking,” Mast said.

  They were halfway back to the Mother Lode when the trouble started. A human woman came running down the street in a near panic. It was immediately obvious that she wasn’t a drunk or running from an abusive life partner. She had a look of desperation like Thad had never seen.

  “Sheriff Fry! I can’t find my little girl. We’ve looked everywhere!” the woman said.

  She was in her nightclothes with her work boots on. Several men and women followed her with wrenches and box cutters in their hands. They went door to door asking if anyone had seen the girl. Thaddeus wasn’t sure if they wanted to find the girl or justice for whoever took her.

  “Calm down, ma’am. Will find your girl. Mast, round up those people tell them to stop what they’re doing. They can search, but they can’t terrorize the neighborhood,” Thad ordered.

  By the time he turned back to the young mother, Zane was speaking to her with an abundance of compassion and earnestness.

  “I know you searched your house, but little kids hide. It’s a good place to start. We can go back to your home, search it if you tell me about her and where she might go, and then work our way outward from there,” Zane said, holding her hands.

  “I don’t know,” she said, looking anxiously at her friends and family arguing with Mast. “Why would she hide at home?”

  “You told me she was about six years old, right?”

  Thad hadn’t heard that part but assumed they had covered that while he was dealing with Mast and the crowd. He moved closer and waited. Of all the things he thought he would deal with in Darklanding, a missing child was not one.

  “Sometimes kids run off, and if your little girl comes home, she would be scared if no one is there,” Zane Trustman said.

  “That makes sense, I guess. I feel better if Sheriff Fry and his deputy keep looking, though,” the woman said.

  Thad nodded his assent. “We’ll continue to search using a grid pattern. Mast and I will get these people organized and do it right.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff Fry,” the woman said, taking his hand and crying on him. “Please find my little Chihi. She’s all I have.”

  Zane, the woman, and some of her family members went back to their cheap dormitory near the loading docks. Thad gathered the others and addressed them like they were green troops needing clear and direct leadership.

  “Listen up, people. We can find Chihi by working together. My deputy will count you into pairs and give you specific parts of the street grid to check. Report in after you’re done and get a new assignment. We work together, we’ll find her,” Thaddeus said.

  The group broke up and began to search. It wasn’t long before he received a call from Zane.

  “Give me some good news,” Thaddeus said. He had a sinking feeling in his gut worse than going into combat or investigating a murder scene. Losing one of his soldiers in battle was always a crushing blow to his soul. The thought of what could happen to a little girl at the hands of some psychopath was tearing at his gut, causing him real physical pain from his hands to his chest.

  “We located her at the neighbor’s house. She was sleeping downstairs with her friend. The adults didn’t know she was there. Apparently, they do this a lot, but the parents are away at the mines working overtime when they can,” Zane said.

  Thad couldn’t believe their good luck. His discomfort refused to abate. It felt like his blood was full of acid. “Are you sure? How did the neighbors not know everyone is out looking for the girl?”

  “They were part of the early search party. Never thought to look in their own basement. They’ve been out checking what passes for playgrounds in this neighborhood,” Zane said. “Either way, we have her back. I’m watching a very tearful mother-daughter reunion as we speak.”

  Thad forced himself through a combat breathing exercise that lowered his heart rate and blood pressure. Good air in, hold, relax into the moment and see your surroundings, then let it out.

  “You’d be surprised how often this happens. Lost kid calls like this are common in most industrialized societies. It’s the times we don’t find them that break your heart,” Zane said.

  “You’ve had that happen to you, when you were “sort of a cop” after leaving Glakridoz?” Thad asked.

  “I’ve been through that and worse things. I’ll get back with you later. I need to talk to the parents for a minute.”

  “Okay. Good. Tell them I’m glad they found little Chihi.” He called in all the searchers, explained Chihi had been found, and headed to the Mother Lode with Mast.

  “I muchly don’t understand humans or human children,” Mast said.

  “I thought I did. Maybe I don’t. All these years and all these wars, and I can still get the crap scared out of me,” Thad said.

  “You were worried for this child you’ve never met?”

  “Damn right I was!”

  “I was also concerned. It is good Zane…Trustman found this child. Many people will be happy is what I am thinking.”

  An hour later, when Zane walked into the Mother Lode, the patrons cheered. Pierre gave the man a full bottle of whiskey at a steep discount and Dixie allowed two of her girls to give him freebies—on their own time of course.

  “I was thinking very muchly correctly. Zane’s good deed has caused many people who never met this girl child to be happy.”

  Thad sipped his whiskey, glad the miserable sensation of searching for a lost child was gone from his veins.

  Tigerlily swept down the stairs, brushed aside the girls gathered around Zane, and bowed demurely. “Buy m
e a drink?”

  “I’d be honored, Miss Tigerlily,” Zane said.

  The other girls backed away.

  Dixie stepped close to Thad. “She’s got a crush on him after five seconds. I shouldn’t allow it, shouldn’t let her approach a man because she actually likes him. But I’m getting soft, I guess.”

  Thad shrugged.

  “I still do not trust him,” Mast said. “He stabbed Maximus and said he would grind up his hooves and smoke them.”

  “Honey, I don’t trust anyone. Except the sheriff,” Dixie said, brushing the sheriff with her ample bosom as she made her exit.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  P. C. Dickles stepped down from the transport and headed straight for the bullet train railhead where crews were already unloading the exotics—or dust of exotic B47 to be exact. For some reason, this was the easiest of the exotic ores to obtain from panning and siphoning. He wasn’t here to check on the delivery, but he did anyway. His purpose was to resupply and tell Thaddeus about the man who’d come to the mines wanting to take over security.

  He hadn’t slept well since the confrontation. What was the Heart Stone of Glakridoz? What was a Heart Stone? Who the hell was Zane Trustman?

  A dirty child approached him with a desperate look in her eyes. “Please, sir, can you spare a credit voucher for food? My baby brother is starvin’ and my parents’ve been workin’ in Transport Canyon for a month without sending nothin’ back.”

  She was about ten and dressed to look even younger. The grime on her hands and face were real enough, however. As for her baby brother, he looked solid enough to get a real job and was lurking a few meters away with his hands over a trash can fire to stay warm.

  “Does he hit you?”

  She looked into P. C.’s eyes. “No, sir.”

  Dickles believed her. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen beggars in Darklanding, but it’d been a while. He took a sandwich from his travel pack and gave to her, then during a weak moment, gave her two credit chips. “I know the sheriff personally. If you’re running a scam, or if your baby brother hurts you, there’ll be consequences.”

  “Thank you, sir. Thank you very much. This sandwich smells so good.”

  Dickles watched her go to her brother, saw the young man’s frustration, then a gentle argument as the girl explained to him that Dickles had already seen through their ruse, but they had food to eat. He watched the scene and felt an enormous burden. Darklanding needed exotics and the jobs that came with them. He had to figure out a way to mine underwater to eliminate scenes like this one.

  There were other examples of poverty and desperation on his walk to the bullet train. With every step, his resolve to save Darklanding increased. Something changed inside of him. He’d always seen the sheriff as an unstoppable embodiment of SagCon’s will. But the man couldn’t save this place. All he could do was protect the people from themselves. If his crew and the rest of the workers who’d come from across the galaxy to start a new life were to have a chance, it was up to Foreman Dickles to make one for them.

  The scene at the railway station wasn’t encouraging. It only took half a crew to unload the cargo. He watched, then went to the Mother Lode to speak with the Company Man.

  On the way, he saw Zane Trustman wearing a badge. I guess I don’t have to tell the sheriff about this guy. The sight of the pushy security expert—so-called—caused a knot of anxiety to grow in his stomach.

  ***

  Maximus crept between buildings, keeping to the shadows. He smelled food—meat food and bread food and some sort of oily spread all mashed together. A human girl child held it with both hands until she reached an older but still young human male. They chattered senselessly in their strange profanity-based language. He wondered if they would smell each other, but they didn’t. Humans never did. Not where anyone could see them. They acted as though noses and butts should never come near each other. Maybe if they got past this hang-up, they would be better at begging for food.

  He didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand humans, or Ungloks for that matter. What he knew was that Sheriff Thaddeus Fry was his human and Deputy Mast Jotham was his Unglok. He didn’t like being away from them, but they were with the VoidHunter.

  There were no betrayal smells on the sheriff or the deputy. Maximus never smelled such foul odors from them. But he didn’t understand why they could not sense the wrongness in Zane VoidHunter. He looked human, and maybe he was. Maximus couldn’t figure out exactly what that meant other than they walked on two legs and made lots of sounds with their mouths. He did know, because he could smell it and taste it and feel it and see it, was that the VoidHunter was not a good human. He was from Glakridoz but not from Glakridoz.

  None of his senseless mouth noises impressed Maximus.

  He watched the little girl and her big brother eat near the dead end of an alleyway. He thought they were smart not to let other people see what they had. Someone bigger and meaner might come and take it from them. Maximus decided he would wait until they were done and make sure that didn’t happen. Protect them, smell them, maybe beg for their scraps if they had any. Which they probably wouldn’t. These were not scrap-throwing-away humans.

  The children were almost finished eating when they realized he was in the shadows. The girl squealed. The man-boy jumped to his feet and placed himself between Maximus and the girl.

  “Mwa, mwa, blah, blah! Blah-blaaaah! Mwa, mra… Get out of here! Blah, blah, blah filthy monster!” the man-boy shouted.

  “Snort.” Maximus backed away, turned and went into the street. He sighed expansively as human pig herders moved the dumb animals from the transport cars to the slaughterhouse. Now that was a place that smelled horrible. He never went there. Or anywhere near there.

  He glared at the dumb animals. I’m not a pig-dog. Why do they always call me a pig-dog? Starting to feel a bit insulted.

  A bunch of pigs snorted and squealed at him.

  “Snort yourself.” Idiots. He decided to go to the Mother Lode and spy on his people. If the VoidHunter tried to hurt them, Maximus would be there. It was death for him to confront the VoidHunter. No creature of Glakridoz had ever survived an encounter with one of the vile things. Was he afraid? No. Because the stinking, filthy hunter was too slow and stupid to get close to Maximus. But he should be afraid, so he would be careful. He wasn’t a stupid animal, or filthy, like everyone continued to label him.

  His stab wounds, mostly healed now, started to itch. Maximus howled in frustration and went for a run, galloping through the streets of Darklanding. Locals barely commented on his passing. From time to time, he cut loose and ran around baying at the moon. Strangers to Darklanding jumped back in alarm and called the sheriff through the automated emergency incident hotline.

  ***

  P. C. Dickles heard the pig-dog howl forlornly and shook his head. The animal was strange, always had been and always would be. He'd seen the animal’s teeth once and knew better than to go near it. If there was one thing he knew about wild animals, it was that they were unpredictable and dangerous. He prudently stepped into the doorway of a closed shop and waited to be sure the creature wasn't coming his way.

  A group of well-equipped soldiers stopped when they heard the sound, immediately forming a defensive perimeter and drawing their weapons. P. C. saw the sheriff's ex-wife leading them. The brute they called Sledge, on account his last name was Hammer, was also with them. The foreman thought it was a too obvious nickname, but it fit. The man was massive and came down hard on anybody who messed with him. Dickles had seen more than one bar fight at the Mother Lode where Sledge started throwing people around.

  Like Penelope Fry-Grigman, he came and went randomly.

  “You call yourselves TerroCom soldiers? It's just Maximus blowing off steam. Stay clear of the animal and you'll be fine,” Penelope said.

  "Does it eat humans?" a young corporal asked.

  “Only disobedient grunts who don't keep themselves squared away," the squad leader sa
id. “I fought right beside the thing on Centauri Prime. He’s one of us.”

  P. C. Dickles had little use for soldiers. He mostly encountered them in places like the Mother Lode, and usually when they were drunk enough to start fights. Some of his better workers had been hospitalized in these brawls.

  Maximus moved farther and farther away, still howling and barking for God only knew why. Space freighters descended from the upper atmosphere and made their way to landing strips at the spaceport. Trains and trucks moved goods to warehouses. There were people out walking, but not many.

  He didn't care about Penelope or her soldiers, although he did wonder where General Quincy was. Rumor had it they were quite an item. Of course, Dickles didn't have much use for rumors either.

  There was an awful lot of law enforcement and security in Darklanding lately. Too much for his taste. If Sheriff Fry was deputizing people like Zane Trustman and TerroCom soldiers were patrolling the streets, things had gotten worse than he remembered. Music blared from the Mother Lode as he approached it. Men and women were getting as smashed as they could on the cheapest liquor they could find. From the look of them, Dickles guessed they were concocting their own mind-altering substances at home. He'd counted nearly a dozen people passed out on the sidewalk since he left the transport hub.

  They probably had no place to go and were probably as broke as a person could get. He thought again of Quark Guthrie wanting to quit and Burke complaining. Darklanding needed exotics. No one had been rich before, but this kind of crisis was going to end badly. He’d been on planets where they had labor riots and civil disorder. There was no way Sheriff Fry could handle something like that, even with his ex-wife and a squad of soldiers.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Zane VoidHunter turned the corner and almost got caught. The redheaded woman recently retired from SagCon and her brute of a sidekick had almost collared him twice before. They hadn’t known who he was or what he was looking for, but they’d been right that he was breaking about fifty shipping and receiving laws. SagCon hated smugglers just like they hated all manner of thieves and embezzlers.