by John Bowers
“I didn’t kill either one of them.”
“Then how come they’re both dead?”
“You said it yourself—they were stupid. You can’t fix stupid.”
Harold Reed laughed. “You’re a very funny guy, aren’t you, Walker?”
“Oh, I’m a riot. You ought to see me on stage.”
“I’m looking forward to it. In a few days you’ll be on trial for your life in a Texiana courtroom. We'll see how funny you are then.”
“I’ll give you the performance of a lifetime.”
Nick sucked down the last of the water and set the bottle on the floor. Outside the room, he heard footsteps climbing the wooden stairs. A moment later the outer door opened and a slender figure stepped inside. His eyes widened in total shock as the sexy brunette strode across the room to stand in front of him. Her Vegan perfume lit up his olfactory senses and made him suddenly dizzy.
She smiled. “How’re you doing, Nick? Can I get that interview now?”
Chapter 23
Centauri Springs – Alpha Centauri 2
Virgil Bullard waited until he got home to contact the U.F. Marshal’s office in Camarrell. He wasn’t sure if he should even make the call, but Michael Smith was genuinely worried; Bullard had known Michael for several years and knew he was not prone to flights of fantasy. If he thought Walker might be in trouble, it was worth taking a look at.
Twenty minutes after leaving Michael, Bullard placed the call. It took him several minutes to reach someone who seemed to have the authority to take his report.
“This is Marshal Eurich. Can I help you?”
“Yes, Ma’am, my name is Bullard and I’m a police officer in Centauri Springs. You have a couple of marshals named Walker and Green?”
“They’re not assigned to this office, but I’m aware of them. What’s the problem?”
“They were here over the weekend investigating a case, and now I’ve learned that they continued on down toward the Isthmus of Latia.”
He waited for Eurich to acknowledge that, but she didn’t say anything.
“I think they may be in danger.”
“I see. Officer Bullard, what is your badge number?”
“Badge number three four one. Do you want my citizenship number too?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind.”
Bullard rattled it off, a nine-digit number that was as critical to life on Alpha 2 as his DNA.
“One moment…”
Eurich was gone for a few seconds and he heard the background sounds of a busy office. Finally she came back to him.
“What information do you have that suggests Walker and Green are in danger?”
“For one thing, they got into a gunfight here Saturday. A transient from out of town drew down on them. Apparently he was after Walker, but Green killed him before any harm was done.”
“I see.”
“Then, just a few minutes ago, a private citizen informed me of some other events of the day before in which three other men tried to capture Walker. At least one of them, a Rukranian, came from south of here, and now Walker has traveled south to find out who’s after him and why. The citizen thinks he may be walking into trouble.”
Eurich was silent for a moment, and he thought he could hear her talking to someone else, dimly, as if she were covering her mouthpiece. A moment later she came back.
“Officer Bullard, how far are you from the Isthmus?”
“Four hours closer than you are.”
“Are you willing and able to make a quick trip down there?”
“Yes.”
“Raise your right hand, please, and say ‘I do’.”
Surprised, Bullard raised his right hand. He felt foolish doing it because the call was voice-only and she couldn’t tell if he had complied or not.
“I do,” he said solemnly.
“You are now deputized as a temporary United Federation Marshal. From this moment forward until I release you from service, anything I reveal or that you learn on your own is strictly confidential; if you divulge that information to the press or public you can and will be prosecuted. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good. We’ve lost both voice and GPS contact with Walker; Green called just a few minutes ago and reported that Walker has been captured by persons unknown. Unfortunately, Green’s call was interrupted and now we’ve lost contact with him as well.
“I am assembling a task force to head down to the Isthmus to look for them, but it won’t be ready to leave until dawn. If you can leave right away, you might be able to scout the situation in advance of their arrival. I won’t kid you, Bullard, this could be dangerous.”
“I understand. Where am I going?”
“Proceed south until you hit a town called Binary Flats. It isn’t on any map, but I’m told you can’t miss it.” She rattled off the GPS coordinates. “That’s where Walker and Green were when we lost contact. We don’t know who the perpetrators are or their motives, but we believe there may be several of them. Do not attempt any heroics, but if you can get a lead on our marshals, keep them under surveillance until backup arrives. I’m setting up your communicator for GPS tracking, so we’ll know where you are. Check in every hour until you get there, and every half hour after you arrive. I don’t want to lose you, too.”
Virgil Bullard felt his blood racing. He nodded.
“I’ve got it, Marshal Eurich. I’ll be on my way in thirty minutes.”
Binary Flats – Alpha Centauri 2
Nick stared in raw disbelief as Cybele Gannon smiled at him. She looked as fresh as if she’d just stepped out of her morning shower. She leaned toward Harold Reed and kissed him, the comfortable, leisurely kiss of long-time lovers. She slid an arm around his neck and turned her attention back to Nick.
“Surprised, Nick?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. Astonished, but not surprised.”
Cybele laughed. “I’m actually sorry it has to be this way. I really like you.”
“But you like Harold more.”
She tilted her head. “You made it pretty clear that you were spoken for, so I had no reason to break it off with him.” She winked at Reed. “Not that I would have.”
“You were in on this from the beginning?”
“Are you kidding? I planned the whole thing. When Harold said he wanted to capture you, I figured out exactly how to lure you in. Not a bad plan if I do say so.”
“And your dad…?”
“Doesn’t have a clue. And he never will.”
Nick nodded slowly, digesting the information.
“Well, I have to hand it to you, Miss Gannon—you’re smarter than you look.”
Cybele laughed again, easy and relaxed. She turned to Reed and rubbed his neck.
“Why don’t you get some sleep? I can watch this guy for a while.”
Reed squinted at her with weary eyes. “You sure?”
“Absolutely. The BCs are guarding the building, so even if he gets past me he can’t go anywhere.”
Reed nodded and stubbed out his cigarette. He kissed Cybele again and headed toward the door behind Nick.
“Wake me at dawn.”
“Will do. Sleep tight.”
Nick waited until the door closed behind Reed, then lifted his chin.
“I think things are starting to make sense.”
Cybele tilted her head. “What things?”
“Why you took me to the canyon that day. How Vanov knew your name. You and he were old friends.”
She shook her head. “I only met him a week ago. But yes, I knew who he was.”
“You faked it pretty good. You actually seemed scared.”
“I was terrified! I did not expect him to kill that other man, and after he did, I had no idea what else he might do.”
“So, if you were both on the same side, why did you kill him?”
“Vanov was about to kill you, but Harold wants you alive. You’re supposed to st
and trial on Sirius, not die in Prater Canyon.”
“Okay…let me get this straight—Vanov was supposed to take me back?”
“Alive.”
“Then you killed Vanov, so that must have screwed up your plan.”
“Yes. After you left the estate and went back to town I called Harold and told him you killed Vanov.”
“Why didn’t you take the credit?”
“Because Harold really doesn’t care who did it, and I didn’t want to explain it.”
“So Harold sent Nemorov.”
“Plan B.”
“Why did you look so shocked when you saw his picture after Nathan killed him?”
“I didn’t know who they were sending. I knew Boris a little longer. He was nicer than most of them and I liked him.”
“What was Plan C?”
“There was no Plan C.” Cybele laughed. “We were scrambling to come up with something else, but you decided to come down here and check things out, so all we had to do was wait for you and arrange a proper greeting.”
“I played right into your hands.”
“As it turned out, yes.”
Nick leaned his head back and yawned. It was still the middle of the night and he was tired.
“How did you get hooked up with Harold Reed, anyway? That seems like an unlikely match.”
She smiled, her eyes glazing in fond memory.
“I went to journalism school on Sirius, in New Angeles. Harold was a grad student there… political science. We met, we fell in love. Simple as that.”
“And you’re okay with Sirian ideology?”
“Sure. Why shouldn’t I be?”
“Because it’s racist, for one thing. They condone rape and slavery and oppression of women and just about everything else that civilized societies abhor.”
“Oh, your poor bleeding heart!” She laughed. “None of that matters to me. I’m not racist, but I am in love, and I’ll do whatever I can for the man I love.”
“Including murder?”
“If necessary. So far I’ve never had to murder anybody.”
“Except Vanov.”
“That wasn’t murder. You said so yourself.”
Nick was too tired to argue, and the point was too fine to matter. He yawned again.
“Before you came in here, I was supposed to get bathroom privileges.”
“Are you splitting?”
“My back teeth are floating. Can’t you hear the g-g-gurgle when I talk-k-k-k?”
She picked up the E-cuffs and tossed them to him.
“Put these on first. You can keep your hands in front, if you want to.”
“Gee, thanks.” He snapped the cuffs on and stood up. Cybele took a step back and pointed to the doorway.
“Right in there. There aren’t any windows, so don’t try to escape.”
Nick took a couple of steps toward the bathroom door, then stopped and looked back.
“Will you wait for me?”
Cybele laughed again, delightedly.
“Oh, Nick, you are so funny! Of course I will.”
***
Nick was in the bathroom for several minutes. Relieving his bladder didn’t take long, but in spite of Cybele Gannon’s assurance that the room was escape proof, he checked for himself. Unfortunately, she was right—the room had no windows and only one cabinet for towels and linen. He checked the ceiling but saw no panels leading to the attic. The room was solid.
He bent over the sink to wash his hands. As he was about to dry them he stopped, struck by an idea. Turning on the water again, he braced himself and held the E-cuffs under the stream. With a flash and a sizzle, the battery shorted out, driving a ringing pain up both arms. The pain only lasted an instant—Nick caught his breath and tugged at the E-cuffs; to his amazement, they parted without much effort. He dried them on a towel and put them back on. Without the battery power, the locks remained in place by inertia.
When he came out, Cybele was standing near the table with a gun in her hand. She had been unarmed a moment earlier and his eyes narrowed as he anticipated her intentions. She leaned casually against the table, her arms crossed and the gun pointed at the floor. She smiled but said nothing. He walked back to the vicinity of his chair and stopped, staring at the gun.
“That looks like Nathan’s .45,” he said.
“Very observant.”
“What are you doing with Nathan’s gun? And where is Nathan?”
She pointed the pistol toward the chair.
“Nathan is just fine. Take a seat.”
He took a step closer. “How did you get his gun? Where is he?”
“He’ll wake up in a couple of hours, safe and sound, unarmed, and extremely embarrassed. You need to be thinking about yourself, not him.”
Nick took another step toward her. “Did you kill him? Did you kill Nathan?”
“No, of course not.”
“If you killed him, I swear to god—”
“Relax, Nick. I didn’t kill him. Nobody killed him. There was no reason to.”
“If he saw you, he’s a witness.”
“Nick, I’m smarter than I look, remember? I set it up so that he thinks I was taken by the same people who took you. That’s what he’ll report when he gets back, and everybody is happy.”
“How is everybody happy? I’m not feeling too giggly right now.”
“Okay, everybody but you. You’re going to Sirius, I’m going to Sirius, everybody is going to Sirius. We won’t be coming back, so even if Nathan figures it out—which he won’t—there’ll be nothing anybody can do about it.
“Now…” Her smile faded and she gestured toward the chair again. “…sit down. I won’t tell you again.”
“Or you’ll what? Shoot me? Harold wants me to stand trial on Sirius, so he won’t take it very kindly if you kill me, will he?”
She shifted her weight to the other foot.
“Nick—”
In a lightning move, Nick jerked his wrists apart and the E-cuffs went flying. Cybele didn’t even have time to scream before he jerked the gun out of her hand and spun her around, slamming her face-down onto the table. Before she could draw another breath he jerked her backward and pushed her to the floor, covering her mouth with one hand while he slugged her in the temple with his fist. She blacked out instantly.
Nick stood quickly and crossed to the outside door. Pressing himself against the wall, he snapped open the cylinder of the .45 and checked the loads, then closed it again. He took a moment to exhale, hoping the commotion hadn’t roused Harold Reed, who was supposed to be asleep in the next room. Taking a deep breath, he tapped on the outer door with a knuckle, then took a step back. The door opened and one of the Rukes stuck his head inside.
“Da?”
Nick wrapped an arm around his neck and jerked him inside, threw him to the floor and slammed the .45 against his skull before he could so much as shout. He also fell unconscious, and Nick pulled the door open. A second Ruke stood on the balcony with his back to the door, watching for intruders. Nick was on him before he recognized the danger and drove a fist into his kidney, then lifted him bodily and threw him over the railing. The Ruke let go a shout as he dropped into the dark alley below, landing with a thump. His weapon clattered to the ground a few feet away.
Nick stepped back inside the room and grabbed his hat, then his gunbelt; he hurried down the outside stairs while he buckled it around his waist. So far he had avoided making too much noise, and only hoped he could continue the trend.
When he reached the street he looked in both directions; it was after midnight and cold—Alpha 2’s only moon was high in the sky, casting a silver glow across the town. He saw a Ruke standing at the end of the block peering down a side street, but in the other direction the sidewalk was clear. He started to trot that way, but his boots made a clatter against the wooden boards. He leaped for the gutter to reduce the noise, but was too late—a laser bolt blistered past him just a foot to his left, and he spun to see the Ruke
at the intersection drawing down on him. The Ruke fired again and Nick ducked as a flash of light spanged off a lamp post beside him.
He had no choice. To keep the noise down he needed his laser pistol, but if he took time to switch weapons the Ruke would get him for sure. Nick’s right hand snapped up and the .45 roared in the still night. The Ruke dropped. Nick turned to run, but had made only ten yards when he heard a door swing open behind him and the blast of a shotgun deafened him; the buckshot passed inches above his head.
“Freeze, Marshal! The next one hits center body mass.”
Nick stopped dead still and turned, the .45 still in his right hand. Goldie stood in front of her diner with a four-barreled shotgun pointed at his chest, six feet from where he stood.
“Put it down, Marshal.”
“Goldie…I thought you were a reluctant participant in all this. You want to be a party to murdering a Federation officer? Who’s the damn fool now?”
“It isn’t about what I want, Marshal. I just don’t have any choice. I can’t afford to piss them off.”
“Why? You can find G-men anywhere. What do you need them for?”
Goldie inclined her head to indicate the shops up and down the street.
“You were curious about all this. You were wondering how we could be so independent without the Federation or the Colonial government. Well, now you have your answer. Everything we have, every commodity, every good that comes in, comes from them. If we had to import from any other source, we couldn’t afford it, but they give us rock bottom prices.”
“Then they must be losing money. What’s in it for them?”
“A base of operations.”
“What operations?”
“I don’t know and I don’t ask. I’m just looking out for my people, and the agreement with Beta Centauri is all we have. I can’t do anything to jeopardize that.”
“Does Harold Reed work for you?”
“No.”
“Do you work for him?”
She shook her head. “I only met him a couple of weeks ago. He’s a friend of the BCs, and whatever they’re up to has nothing to do with me. I just want him out of my town so things can get back to normal.”
