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Union of Souls (Gigaparsec Book 3)

Page 19

by Scott Rhine


  An injection in Reuben’s shoulder cut off his wails.

  Chapter 26 – Grief

  The first person Shag let onto the yacht was a harried, middle-aged police ewe by the name of Marta. “Sir, MI-23 can’t protect you if you don’t keep us in the loop.”

  Reuben was staring at the wall screen in his room, displaying home videos of Blythe. “Really? How many agents do you have in this star system?”

  “Four, but we have a decent budget. Our team is composed of adjuncts who do advance sweeps wherever the Black Ram might land.”

  She seemed intimidated by him, so he pushed. “Part-time agents against a shipload of armed miners? What’s your day job?”

  “I’m the interspecies liaison for the Mauna Keanu police.”

  He laughed. “You deal with drunk and disorderly Goats no one else wants to touch. I suppose that’s an appropriate job description for handling the Black Ram.”

  “Sir, we’re hiring experts for your legal problems, but we need you to get back to Goat space as soon as possible.”

  “Not until after the funeral. I also want a few answers.”

  The police ewe shook her head. “We’re not equipped.”

  Reuben gazed at her sympathetically as he removed his left glove. “For the next day, I need you to be. This should help.” He placed his forefinger in the center of her forehead, and she became a security genius. He caught her before she could swoon. “You’ll be back to normal by tomorrow, perhaps a little wiser. If there are any big cases you’ve always wanted to solve, this would be the time, but I insist you take care of Blythe first.”

  “How did you—?”

  He put a finger to his lips, his eyes back on the video of Blythe. “In the name of transporting me safely to a Goat world, get me access information to each of our nearby systems, including Giragog.”

  “The Convocation is going on there soon, sir. Union security restricts all landing rights once it begins.”

  “Really? Add that information to my daily briefings.”

  She bowed before leaving.

  ****

  Max arrived an hour later to clean up the mess. He found Reuben in the yacht’s cockpit. “We were expecting them in space but not on the ground. Not now. I’m so sorry we let our guard down.”

  “Not everything is your fault.” Reuben crawled out from under the ansible cowling. “In fact, you’re the one person I’m positive is blameless in all this.”

  “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

  Reuben shook a screwdriver. “We need to counterattack.”

  “Relax. Kesh contacted port security. No one is coming near Solemnity while we’re docked at the space station. Echo and Jeeves are safe. Kesh is trying to file a grievance against the bank and get some of the bogus charges sorted. The Turtle Embassy sent a squad of Yellow Slashes here to the spaceport to do forensics and clean up. They downloaded the last hour of your video as evidence. The Turtle techs can even repair your media ball if you promise not to reenact Napoleon at Waterloo again. Did you even look at the size of those guns?”

  “We’re being played, bro. Setup!” Reuben gestured to the console he had taken apart. “I was just trying to figure out how they did it. Someone sabotaged our ansible so we couldn’t call for help.”

  “Do you really think the Bankers would relay an SOS for us? Sit.”

  Obedient to the doctor’s wishes, Reuben plunked into the pilot’s chair. “Maybe they were covering up the last message sent from this shuttle. Fiona was gone a long time. I don’t trust her.”

  “That would explain why she’s sitting in the coffee shop, fuming.” After rummaging in his leather bag, Max plastered a monitor across Reuben’s forehead.

  “She’s pissed because I demanded all her jewelry to scan for Banker marks.”

  “Follow my finger. I want to check for a concussion.”

  “The paramedics did that already. You’re not taking me seriously. Someone has been giving our enemies information!”

  Max donned his medical smart goggles and squinted at the readouts. “You found proof that Fiona is behind this?”

  “No. I scoured my intel files for evidence on her family but turned up nothing.”

  “Blythe’s family?”

  “Her mom’s a social climber but dedicated to the healing of her people. I never learned her dad’s name. She never got along with him—always arguing.”

  “Did you check Blythe’s amulet? You promised to treat both concubines equally. If you don’t, Fiona has every right to be angry.” Max placed another scanner on Reuben’s chest.

  “I guess. Blythe wasn’t wearing it on the trip down. Strange, because she always wore it on the ship. I remember complaining because I bit the chain when—” His heart rate spiked.

  Max changed the subject. “Who’s the new doorkeeper at the airlock?”

  “Shag, like the carpet. He pulled my nuts out of the fire. I trust him.”

  “Breathe deeply for me. Good. Shag is okay for New Hawaii, but he’s not the sharpest tool in the box.”

  “Loyalty is important.”

  “We only have one stasis unit free. Unless he can cook, he’s not going to pull his weight on Solemnity.”

  Reuben winced as Max probed his spine down to his tailbone. “My ass was bruised as deeply as my dignity by the fall. Any replacement candidates to suggest?”

  “The whole Goat community is pulling together here, especially women. You could take your pick.” Max tapped on Reuben’s knee to test reflexes.

  “Nobody is replacing her yet.” Reuben linked to Kesh on his comm, putting it on speaker mode so Max could hear, too. “Captain, could you find Blythe’s favorite necklace in her room? I’d like to bury her with it.”

  “Not a problem,” Kesh replied over the comm. “I’ll head down now.” They could hear his heavy, rolling stride over the comm.

  “How’s Jeeves doing?” Max asked the accountant.

  “She won’t come out of hiding,” Kesh explained. “Menelaus has been feeding her because he’s the least psi active. However, he let slip that bad Saurians ate her friend the cook.”

  “We’ll be a few days. I’ll have Roz call and coax her into eating. Can you hold down the fort otherwise?” Max asked.

  “Sure. There are a few developments with the Blue Claws you’re not going to like.”

  Max cleared his throat. “Maybe I should talk to you about those in private.”

  Kesh said, “He’ll soon be a world leader. You can’t shelter him forever.”

  “I can take it,” Reuben responded, glaring Max into silence and bracing for the worst.

  “First the good news. We cleared up the misunderstanding with the reactor payment a few minutes ago.”

  “Like frilling magic,” Reuben said. “How did the Bankers explain the delay?”

  Kesh replied, “Turns out the Blue Claw Clan is cheap. They refuse to pay transfer fees from the Bat banking zone. They normally take the credit on a signed chip and carry it on their trade vessel personally. Once the proof arrives at a banking hub by slow boat, the transfer is recorded and backdated. The Blue Claws now acknowledge our timely payment. The Bankers took the opportunity to mention that this never would have happened if we’d borrowed from a reputable lending institution.”

  Hah! “The bad news?”

  “Before the Blue Claw ship will allow us to leave this star system, their clan demands the most recent loan payment plus interest, as well as wergild for the clan members you killed.”

  Reuben suggested something physically impossible with a tail.

  Max removed the medical scanners. “We’re already at odds with the Bats and the Bankers. If we don’t pay this extortion, the Saurian government will side with the mob against us.”

  “Millions for defense, not one credit for tribute!” Reuben quoted. “As soon as we reach the Convocation, all this goes away. They killed my consort and tried to end me. They don’t get a reward for that action.”

  After a few minut
es of debate, Kesh said, “The necklace isn’t in her jewelry box. The rest of this can wait until you’ve cooled down. We’ll have a partner meeting after the funeral. Nothing gets decided till then.”

  “We’ll let you know the place and time,” Max said.

  “Good. Menelaus wants to come, too. This was a blow to him as well. Kesh out.” He disconnected the call.

  Reuben said, “She really liked the birch biozone. I figured since her family disowned her, we could bury her there on the ship.”

  Max shook his head as he put away the last of the diagnostic gear. “Echo won’t go for it. The ship is for Magi only. Besides, I’m not the one to discuss it with. As Blythe’s roommate, Daisy is handling the details.”

  “I should be caring for her.”

  “You never consummated or cohabitated. You have zero legal rights. As primary-care provider for a fragile adult, Daisy has medical power of attorney.”

  “Fine.” Reuben linked to Daisy over the comm.

  Daisy responded, sniffing back tears. “I’m so sorry for your loss. You and Fifi must be devastated.”

  Pausing for a moment, Reuben realized he had been so eager to find someone to blame that he hadn’t considered Fiona’s feelings on anything. “Yeah. Understatement. How’s the search for a gravesite going?”

  “Oh, the Millhouses are being splendid. They saved a few places in their private graveyard in case family members died unmarried or some of the older prison-camp residents were too poor. When he heard the story on the news, Francis offered Blythe the plot next to Gina’s.”

  Max and Reuben looked at each other, dumbfounded. Reuben was the first to recover. “The Black Ram will be forever in their debt for this kindness. I insist on paying for the plot and the entire funeral.”

  “The police perimeter will be the most expensive part. I’m still in negotiation with the city.”

  “At the wake, a large meal is traditional. I promised Blythe I would rent an ice cream truck for the mourners.” Reuben’s voice broke. “In lieu of flowers, she wanted people to donate to the Bat Children’s Relief charity.”

  “She’d love that.”

  “Let me give you access to my bank accounts.”

  “I appreciate the magnitude of your trust.”

  “This is Ivy all over again.” The words popped out before Reuben could stop them.

  “We know,” Daisy replied tenderly. “I’d hug you if I could.”

  Reuben struggled to change the topic. “Have you seen Blythe’s necklace recently?”

  “That’s actually what convinced Francis of her plight. Blythe didn’t have access to any bank accounts, so she sold her only family heirloom to get spending money for this trip.”

  “Did the necklace have a diamond?” asked Max.

  Cold gripped Reuben’s chest. “No.”

  “Actually, it did,” Daisy recalled. “The jeweler validated the serial number and everything.”

  Reuben sank to his knees.

  Max pressed in mercilessly. “Do you know her father’s last name?”

  “He changed it to something noble in Chinese—Shih, which is some sort of knight. Ironic.”

  “How so?”

  “Blythe’s grandparents did something illegal to afford the down payment on his resort. I mean, unless he’s selling drugs, there’s no way a normal Goat can come up with that kind of credit.”

  Max terminated the link so Daisy wouldn’t hear Reuben’s browbeating.

  “Why does my dick always lead me to the wrong woman? How could I be so blind?”

  “Easy, bro. We all know how sweet that lady was. She probably argued with her father because she refused to betray you. She gave the gem back to the Bankers at the first opportunity. She wasn’t bright enough to know her actions would send up a flare, pinpointing our location.” Max paused to let the new information sink in. “We also have to consider the possibility that the hit was never intended for you.”

  “They assassinated her … because she chose me?” Letting me live after that was a mistake for the history books, boys. The rage gave him focus and clarity of purpose.

  Chapter 27 – Anger

  Preparation for the state funeral would take five days. Planning the event helped the partners cope with their loss. Daisy put Troy in charge of the huge meal at the wake. On the second day, the heavy-set tour-bus driver approached Reuben where he hid in the bedroom of his yacht. “You have a lot more guards now. Daisy says MI-23 recruited them.”

  “Yeah. Shag wants to resign. I think I frightened him with my performance on the runway.”

  “We all understand,” Troy said. “That’s sort of why I’m here. Because of all her wounds, the ceremony is closed casket.” Blythe had been peppered with numerous blaster injuries before the fatal head shot. “Daisy thought you might be able to provide us with some appropriate photos.”

  Reuben had already scanned his drone recordings for images of the beautiful, young ewe. “Something like this?” As he displayed the four-minute montage on his wrist computer, Blythe glowed in the air above them. The final frozen image was after their last kiss; the affection in her half-lidded eyes made her irresistible.

  “Her name should have been Helen,” said Troy, awed.

  Touched, Reuben transmitted the montage to Troy’s data sphere. “Pick some appropriate stills.”

  “What was the music in the background?”

  “Her favorite piece, an Earth instrumental designed for gymnastics competition, a contest to display gracefulness and flowing motion.”

  Troy nodded. “It suits her. Max said the media was asking for her likeness, too.”

  “Whatever you think is appropriate. How’s Max doing?”

  “The people on the ship weren’t wild about the delay the funeral caused, but Max convinced them that every Goat on the planet wanted to visit and pay their respects.”

  Reuben blinked. Every Goat on the planet? Even if his Quantum Computing powers only rated a four, this gathering would afford him an excellent opportunity to access the mass-mind and plot revenge against the remaining Blue Claws in orbit.

  His new ball could record any findings from the trance. All he needed was information about the enemy ship. His own resources were sparse, but he had used Roz’s data cubes to add engineering data from a variety of Saurian vessels: maintenance reports from ship yards, design-flaw warnings, and stress analysis.

  The replacement media drone from the Turtles could intercept and decode nearby transmissions in order to detect more assassins. He could use the decryption routines to ransack the databases on the local Human military computers. They might have files on the weak points of Saurian merchant ships, including the best offensive tactics for beam turrets. He might be able to guilt Daisy into adding what the Llewellyn knew about his opponents. When it got down to hand-to-hand, his own special-forces training and Menelaus’s anti-Saurian studies would come into play. Yes, all this data would be valuable in the compute trance.

  Troy had been babbling on, but Reuben didn’t pay attention until the former tour operator said, “I’ll be picking Fiona up at the police station in a few hours.”

  “Why?”

  “They’ve been holding her on suspicion of homicide. Based on reconstructions from the videos and testimony, the police have now ruled that all fatal shots came as self-defense from inside the diplomatic courier.”

  “Which counts as Mnamnabonian soil.”

  Troy nodded. “If Miss Fidelos hadn’t left the yacht, the cops couldn’t have touched her, but she wanted to stop Blythe’s bleeding. You were distracted at the time beating in the skulls of all those Saurians.”

  “All? I vaguely recall the lamppost guy.” Before I blacked out.

  “The ones that the truck hit started going for their weapons. You took care of them all, sir, even after your staff ran out of power. That bit where you slammed the truck’s hood on that guy’s head was brutal.”

  Explains what I missed and why Shag is so afraid of me. “I�
�ll go with you to meet Fiona and bring her a nice change of clothes. We should stop and get some flowers on the way, though.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  No. I don’t think you know how much I have to make up for, or how much I need her for my plans. “She likes slaw and spicy chicken sandwiches. Maybe we could grab her something from that bistro on the beach.” Reuben opened the women’s closet to find the best dress in Fifi’s size.

  “You’re very kind to your consorts.”

  “About that. In the obituary, be sure to mention my number-one concubine Fiona in the ‘survived by’ list.”

  “Everybody said Blythe was your favorite.”

  Reuben felt dirty, but he was a politician now. Looking into the camera, he said, “We were closest because I spent the most time with Blythe helping her to recover from her illness. However, Fiona will always be my first.” If she’ll have me.

  He spent the time before his departure speaking to MI-23 and all the event planners about Fiona’s status. “I want her at my side throughout.” He even managed to award the same Mnamnabonian Medal of Honor to both ewes.

  His abject apology in the back of the taxi still took Reuben twenty minutes before Fiona spoke. Only after he admitted to investigating both ewes equally and finding fault with Blythe did the recently released prisoner speak. “You can’t let anyone outside our company know about her Banker connection.”

  Glancing at Troy in the front, Reuben adlibbed, “No. Never. I trust Troy because he’s going to be the new cook on the ship as well as my official driver.”

  “Really?” Troy said in surprise. Recovering, he added, “I mean, of course. Everything the Black Ram or his first consort says is confidential.”

  Fiona raised an eyebrow. “First consort?”

  “That’s what all the media releases said, ma’am.”

  Reuben knelt awkwardly in the van. “This is me, officially begging.”

  Arms crossed, she regarded Reuben. “Why?”

  “You were attracted to me before I was tapped for office. Maybe I need someone who believed in me when I was just Reuben.”

 

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