by Jason LaPier
McManus frowned. The shitstorm that followed Runstom’s little pageant that played out on Sirius-5 had been hell for him and the other officers and detectives that were part of the Barnard-4 murder investigation. Non-stop interviews, both internal and external: superiors reaming his ass, Internal Affairs digging with all of their tentacles, and lead-hungry sensationalist journalists stalking them wherever they went. As though they were all in on this mass murder because they didn’t go detective-crazy like Runstom did.
“Don’t get me started,” he muttered.
X nodded. “You are started, Sergeant. Now you need to end.” He started to pace, waving a finger. “You were supposed to tie up a loose end.”
“Jackson.” McManus sighed in frustration. “Why did you have to do this secret order shit? Why didn’t you just have him picked up officially?”
“Two reasons. As your chief reminded you, Terroneous is not under ModPol jurisdiction. But more importantly, no one in Justice gives a shit about Jackson. They got Jenna Zarconi. They got their murderer. Jackson is just a wrongfully accused sap. Bringing him in on a fugitive charge is more trouble than it’s worth.”
McManus played it out in his mind for a moment. X had a point: if ModPol brought Jackson in, the media would be back in their shit like predators on blood. “But he’s worth the trouble to you?”
“Let’s just say that when Zarconi came in, something came with her. Something I had to work. Very. Hard. To make go away.”
“And Jackson makes it not go away.” McManus took a deep breath before he said the next part, making sure he was ready for it. “You want Jackson, but you don’t want him arrested. You want him to …” he trailed off.
X turned and gestured at the wall as if he could point at space itself. “Epsilon. Our illustrious Defense division bagged us an assload of Wasters. You remember how you lost Jackson?”
“Of course,” McManus grunted. “Wasters raided the Black Maria and took him. It was the only thing they took. Didn’t even pop him out of the Securitube. Why did they take him?”
“Recruitment.”
McManus puzzled it over for a second and then shrugged. “Whatever.”
“Yes, whatever.” X circled the room until he was face to face with McManus. “I have intelligence that says Jackson was involved in the Space Waste assault.”
McManus huffed. “We talkin’ about the same Jackson? Skinny white guy from B-4?”
“He was brought on as a hacker. And he would have been captured along with the others.” He grinned. “Believe it or not, one of Jackson’s greatest strengths is being a nobody. No one knows who he is or what he looks like.”
“I know what he looks like,” McManus muttered. He heard himself say it and realized it was why he’d landed this job all along.
“And I hear you landed guard duty.” X pulled the hood of his chamel-suit over his head and the fabric started to shimmer. “The prisoners will be loaded onto the barge at Outpost Epsilon. Then there’s the Xarp back to Barnard, and a few weeks’ subwarp out to the maxi, as I understand it.” He walked to the back of the room, shadows bunching around him like he was sinking into mud. “Lots of time for a guard to spend in the company of those prisoners.”
“I’ll be sure to enjoy every minute of it.” He swallowed and asked the question he barely dared to ask. “And what happens if Jackson isn’t among the prisoners?”
“Then you find him, Sergeant McManus.” Only a voice now, floating across the small room. “Jackson disappears and you might find yourself promoted to Lieutenant. Fail, and you become a loose end.”
McManus couldn’t remember leaving the room, drifting down the hall, and finding the precinct bar. The logic center of his brain was too busy trying to figure out exactly how fucked he was, while the baser functions were seeking refuge from reality as fast as possible. The latter had worked the dispenser on instinct and he unexpectedly tasted the sweet burn of liquor on his tongue as his own hands brought a bottle to his mouth.
The fire shocked him into consciousness. He was a survivor. He would do what he needed to do. And all he had to do was get to Epsilon Eridani, find Jackson somewhere in that largely uncharted solar system, and make one of the new worlds his final resting place.
Acknowledgments
A massive thank you to the hardworking folks over at HarperVoyager, especially my editor Rachel Winterbottom. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the process and it’s very exciting to be a part of this journey at a forward-thinking publisher that continues to make strides into the future of literature.
I’d like to thank all the people who have supported my writing in one way or another over the years. National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) helped me take a big leap forward, and I thank the NaNoWriMo organizers and community. We have so many great writer communities and organizations in Oregon and I want to thank all of them for their writing workshops, lectures, panels, networking functions, and other opportunities, especially the Northwest Independent Writers Association (NIWA), Willamette Writers, the Wordstock Festival, Literary Arts of Oregon, and OryCon (which is a sci-fi convention but I include it for their obvious dedication and support of the written word and authors).
I’d like to give a special shout-out to the friends I’ve made in the past couple of years in the other authors at HarperVoyager. A wonderful camaraderie has developed between us and I am so thankful for the support.
Cynthia: thank you again for always believing in me. You make me feel like a genius!
Jennifer: whenever I need to go to a blissful place in my mind, I inevitably end up with you. Sometimes we’re off on one of our adventures, and sometimes it’s slower, just you and I enjoying an everlasting moment. I love being with you like nothing else. You are my religion.
About the Author
Born and raised in Upstate New York, Jason LaPier lives in Portland, Oregon with his wife and their dachshund. In past lives he has been a guitar player for a metal band, a drum-n-bass DJ, a record store owner, a game developer, and an IT consultant. These days he divides his time between writing fiction and developing software, and doing Oregonian things like gardening, hiking, and drinking microbrew. He can be found on Twitter @JasonWLaPier and he blogs at jasonwlapier.com.
Also by Jason LaPier
The Dome Trilogy
Unexpected Rain
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