by C. Gockel
“Well, now we know,” she said when the broken case revealed colored and etched metal rods bound with tape. Her new companions exclaimed in wonder at the currency but it meant little to Nova. As Soren had said, a stack of money was proof of exactly nothing. Disappointed, she held the sticks out to the woman. “Will this buy me a quick ride back to the garrison?”
“And dinner, if you wish.” The Bellac showed her few remaining teeth. The rods, like her gun, disappeared into the depths of her gown. “Every day for the rest of the wind months.”
Nova decided that churry would not be on her menu today. She came to her feet, happy to find her ankle more or less in working order. “No, I need to get back fast.”
After enduring a cup of oily tea that was not to be refused, the nomads tinkered with the skimmer until it started up. The vehicle chugged away from the camp on thrusters so misaligned that the man at the controls had to correct its course continually to keep it from tipping. But it moved at a decent speed and the perimeter scan worked, even if its protective dome was long gone and Nova had to avail herself to one of their dense head-coverings to shield her face. Another Bellac rode behind them, legs dangling over the back end, a rifle held across his chest. They left her at the edge of the garrison with a wave and a smile. She looked after them for a moment before limping to the gate.
She stayed within view of the buildings along the entrance into the base and was soon met by several surprised soldiers and ground personnel. She exaggerated her limp and allowed them to usher her to the small hospital, a place she had hoped to never visit again.
Major Trakkas burst into the room, ignoring the medics’ protests as he strode to the table where she was still being patched up. “What the hell happened, Whiteside?” he thundered.
She lowered the cooling pad from her lip and stared at him, wide-eyed. “It was terrible, sir! Bandits! I was on the way back from visiting Sergeant Rander and the others at Rim Station when they hit. Out of nowhere! Not a single patrol in hailing distance. I bailed just in time before my skimmer went down.”
He glared at her and she practically saw the gears turning in his head. “The package?” he said finally, very quietly.
“Went up with the skimmer. I’m so sorry, sir. But don’t worry; those brigands probably didn’t get their hands on it. Was it important?”
“No,” he said and forced a smile. “It’s nothing that can’t be replaced. We’re all glad you escaped those pirates. I think it’s best if you stayed with us overnight, though.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate your concern.” Nova swung her legs over the edge of the stretcher and put her feet on the floor. She reached up to twist her hair into a knot, mainly to hide a grimace of pain when the stretched muscle in her foot agreed with the major. “I’m perfectly fine. Colonel Thedris is expecting me to return promptly with the pilots.” She was certain that Thedris had no idea who was piloting the shuttle, if he even knew it was down here. She beamed at Trakkas and directed a meaningful glance at the nearby medic. “I would appreciate if your depot could spare a fresh uniform, though. I’m a complete mess.”
His eyes narrowed even as he nodded his agreement. “Of course.”
She stood up and found that her foot was likely to cooperate until she got to the shuttle and on her way back to the ranch. If she could manage to get there without finding herself alone somewhere with one of Beryl’s thugs, she might even end this day in her own bed behind a locked door.
And then perhaps figure out what to do with the information she had. Most importantly, she had a few questions for Djari.
Chapter Ten
By the time Nova delivered her passengers to the skyranch she was utterly weary, stiff from her tumble in the desert and wondering why she had gotten herself so worked up about a gang of thugs and smugglers. She settled the shuttle into its cradle and waited for the air lock to do its thing, wishing she could fall asleep right here.
Soren was right. That one thought had wandered around her mind since leaving Bellac’s atmosphere. Keeping her mouth shut about all this would have been the healthiest option. Smuggling was an inevitable part of any shipping port on any planet, Union-owned or not. Was she so driven to seek revenge on Beryl that she’d risk not only her own neck but Soren’s as well? And now, instead of acting oblivious to that Caspian’s careless comments about payment to Beryl, she was a fresh target walking the halls of Skyranch Twelve. The message she got before the nomads intervened was all too clear. No doubt, news of the failed chase across the flats had preceded her to the orbiter.
The only way to escape more and perhaps permanent damage was to go directly to Lieutenant Colonel Thedris with what she knew, with or without a witness or anything resembling proof. And ask to transfer off the station to avoid floating out in space without a pressure suit before morning.
But first she would give Djari a chance to put her mind at ease.
Could he really be part of this? Or was it possible that he had fallen victim to Beryl’s unchallenged intimidation of those around him? Djari’s connection to the needs of the grow rings would easily allow him to bring the drug in as part of his shipments of plant material. Mince would appear as organic on the security scanners and, thanks to the other half of the gang on the ground, not deeply scanned for precisely what type of organics.
Once her passengers had cleared out, Nova signed the ship over to the technicians and headed toward the lifts. Before her fingers touched the keyplate the door slid aside and two uniformed Centauri stepped out of the elevator. She recoiled when she recognized Beryl’s men.
One of them, a sergeant named Rafe, smirked when he saw her. “Lieutenant Whiteside. We were just coming to welcome you home.”
She looked around. “I’m not sure that welcomes are required. I’m familiar with the place.”
“Well, the boss sent us to find you. We’ve been looking all over. He wants a word with you.”
Nova felt her heart jump in her chest. No doubt Trakkas had given Beryl some very firm orders about her immediate future. “What boss?”
“Lieutenant Colonel Thedris. How many bosses do you have?”
“The colonel doesn’t even know I exist. Why didn’t he just call me?”
The Centauri pointed at her forearm, still missing the data sleeve she had dropped in the skimmer before it blew. “A little hard to find without your com. So he asked us to take a look around.”
His companion nudged her not too gently toward the lift. “And he seems to be in a hurry for that to happen.”
“I’ll go see him right away,” she said. “After I get a fresh uniform. I just got back from the surface. Tell him I’ll just be a few minutes.”
The Centauri guards crowded her into the elevator that simply did not seem built for men of their size. Rafe let his eyes wander over her body for a thoughtful moment. “That uniform looks just fine to me.”
Nova swallowed the ugly lump of fear that rose in her throat. The soldiers stood too close to her. She could feel them, smell them. Her every instinct and every bit of training and experience told her to flee. There was no colonel waiting for her. There was only Beryl and these thugs, ready to silence her permanently in some entertaining fashion. She recalled Djari’s comment about the usefulness of fear. She beat it down, little by little, as the lift rose toward the upper levels. “I mean it. I don’t want to be seen by Thedris like this. It’ll just take a moment.”
“We’ll come with you,” Rafe offered. “Just to make sure you don’t get lost.”
“Are you arresting me, then, Sergeant?” she snapped, grateful when her words came out firm. Without waiting for his response, she changed the destination of the lift to stop two floors below the administrative level. With luck, some of the pilots were loitering around there as they sometimes did before hitting the lounge for a late-evening drink. “Because unless you are, I can find my room on my own.”
Both men stepped out of the lift when she did. The hallway was deserted and no one lounged
around the common area near the arched windows. Nova took a few steps toward her quarters, spun around again and leaped into the lift just as its door closed. She punched the controls for the floor below, praying to the gods of Bellac that the other lift was on a distant level.
She squeezed out of the car before the doors had fully opened and raced down the corridor. She passed one, two sub-sections of residential units before slapping her hand against the keyplate of one door among many. It slid aside and she stumbled into Djari’s room with a loud sob of relief.
She pressed her mouth and nose into her elbow to muffle the sound of her deep gasps for air, out of breath with fear and exertion. She leaned against the door, listening to the menacing thump of combat boots. They grew louder, then passed. Then stopped. Rough voices murmured something too low to make out. The footfalls returned and then faded again.
Nova closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the door. Now what? Where was Djari? Working late? Or was he down at the docks, perhaps, packing up the latest shipment of dope? The bed was unmade, which wasn’t all that unusual, and once again he had left his com band on the table beside it. But the room wasn’t just empty of boyfriend but also empty of the stacks of boxes he had stashed here. None on the floor, none on the unused bunk. She now had a fairly reasonable guess as to what had been in them.
She picked up his com band and idly turned it over in her hands when a terrible thought struck home. Had Beryl’s men harmed Djari? Did they know about her involvement with him? She looked around the room again as if in search of a splatters of blood or some sign of a struggle. Was she the leverage they were using to get him to cooperate?
It would work, of that she was certain. Neither of them had indulged in breathless declarations of love and dedication during their magnificent bouts of lovemaking but they both knew the possibility was there. She needed his serenity as much as he craved her passion. He would go far to keep her from harm. It was also the reason she had not told him that it was Beryl who had assaulted her at Rim Station. She had no doubt that he cared for her deeply. What was a bit of smuggling to keep her safe? He had little to lose up here.
Nova looked around for something to use as a weapon, should Rafe still roam the halls. Feeling a little uneasy about looking through Djari’s things, she peered into some of the cabinets. Most held untidy stacks of clothes and work coveralls. But when she opened a bin near the door her breath caught. A rail gun, fully charged. A small projectile weapon and cases of bullets. A precision laser tool not usually employed by botanists. With a silent curse at finding yet more hints about his new career choice, she took the projectile weapon and tucked it into her uniform blouse.
She went to the door and pressed her ear against it. Someone, distantly, was singing off-key and joyfully. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and peered outside. Empty. It was only a few seconds to the lifts.
But instead of directing the car to the administrative level and the colonel’s office, she dropped it to the shipping floor. She had to know for sure. She had to see. Somewhere down there was the evidence she needed. She was also sure that somewhere in the back of her mind she hoped that there was nothing to be found at all.
The hallway outside the restricted area was silent. She listened to the heavy tread of boots to warn her of the guards’ approach. When she heard nothing but the muffled sounds of industry behind these walls, she stole along the corridor to the unfinished passenger lift Djari had shown her. It was still unlocked and she slipped inside and then climbed the ladder to the catwalk. The stairless gap in the wall showed her a view of the elevator hub, looking much like the last time she had seen it. Workers, supervisors, but no armed guards tonight. Were they all out looking for her?
She did not resist the pull of the shimmering stars outside and stopped to remember the moments she and Djari had shared here. Perhaps she was avoiding what she had come here to see. Turning her back to the stars, she went to the corner of the secret space and pulled one of the bins into the light. It was sealed but unlocked, marked by customs agents as cleared. She broke the seal wire and slid the lid aside.
And found coil upon coil of mince .
Nova closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, the stuff was still there. She slipped her hand down along the inside of the tub to feel more of them and encountered something hard and smooth. Pushing the coils aside exposed an opaque bottle, tapered at the ends, without markings and likely a liquid form of the drug. Quickly, she closed the bin and pushed it back into the corner to pile another on top to hide the broken seal. There was nothing left to do now but to find someone who was not on Trakkas’ pay sheet and reveal what she had found. One of the other pilots, perhaps. Rolyn, surely, would stand by her. And then it was most definitely time to see the colonel.
She hurried back down to the corridor and had just pulled the door shut when someone in stained coveralls turned the corner, carrying a container like the ones she had seen above. She froze and he froze and both of them stared at each other for a moment before he dropped the box and ran.
“Hey!” she called after him, surprised by his escape. She raced after him down the hall leading to the lifts. If he ducked into a restricted entrance on this level the chase would end quickly. Nova’s daily and strenuous exercise routines served her well and she soon caught up to the Bellac. When he sprinted past the elevator doors and to a short staircase she launched herself over the railing and pulled him to the floor. She had straddled him, her gun to his throat before he had even realized what had happened.
He squeezed his eyes shut and spread his arms out in defeat. “Don’t shoot. Please, Lieutenant!”
She let him cringe for a moment while catching her breath. “Why did you run?”
He opened his eyes slowly, one at a time. The network of veins normally visible on a Bellac’s neck had turned a deep purple with the exertion of the chase. “Because you have a gun?”
She jabbed him with the barrel. “It was holstered. Again, why did you run? You were taking the box up to the stash, weren’t you?”
“Please don’t turn me in, Lieutenant. I’m just doing what I’m told.”
“Told by whom?”
He shook his head. “No, please. I can’t.”
“You have no choice.”
“No. Shoot me now. I don’t care. Better that than… that .”
“Than what?” She shifted away from him and gestured with the gun for him to sit on the bottom stairs. The foot she had injured down on Bellac throbbed steadily after her dash to catch this man. “Talk to me or we’re both going topside right now.”
Again, he shook his head. “I can’t. I have kids. Two girls. Here on the station.”
“He threatened your children?”
“I didn’t say that. But things happen. You know about that accident when one of the deck hands fell off the upper scaffolding?”
She nodded.
“That’s not how she broke her neck.”
“They are murdering people now?” Nova gasped.
“There were others. I won’t be one of them. I just do what I’m told and get to go home to my girls at night.”
“Names. Just nod. Beryl?”
His eyes darted around the hallway before he nodded.
“Vel Ancel? Tajana?”
Again, the nod.
She wavered for a few seconds before asking: “Nathon Djari?”
“Who? No, don’t know that one.”
“Human, works in the rings. Scar on the side of his face.”
“Seen him around. But he never talked to me. Is he one of them?”
Nova put her gun away and pulled him to his feet. “Look. These people have to be stopped. You can help stop them. Tell the colonel what you told me.”
“I told nothing!” he said and moved ahead of her back up the stairs.
“This is going to come out sooner or later,” she tried. “Is this worth losing your job over? Maybe going to prison?”
He turned
back, angry now. “It’s not worth losing my life over. What do I care what gets smuggled through here?”
“People are dying over this!”
“Only the ones that don’t mind their own business. I’m doing well so far.”
“Living in fear?”
He stared at her and his mouth formed words that didn’t quite make it past his lips.
She touched his arm, again astonished by the power Beryl wielded over these people. “Tell no one you saw me. You can at least do that, can’t you? Just clear out. Go home to your girls. You don’t want to be here when we get back.”
He nodded wordlessly and stumbled away, perhaps to retrieve the box he had dropped.
Nova returned to the lift and directed it to the administrative level. Pointlessly, she tried to straighten her hair and uniform in the reflection of the elevator’s wall. She looked like some lunatic about to storm into her commanding officer’s presence with tales of drug smuggling and extortion. With luck, her so-far spotless record would convince the colonel to at least come down here to see the evidence for himself.
She felt calm and resolute by the time she stepped out of the car and onto the elegantly designed upper floor of the station. Her calm and resolution flew out of the graphene re-enforced windows when she saw Rafe. He, Ancel and two others of Beryl’s security team stood at the entrance of the vast workspace shared by the administrators of the skyranch.
This time there was no sardonic smirk to welcome her. She walked toward them as if in some sort of nightmare. The men, three Centauri and a Human, seemed like alien creatures in their ill-used, armored uniforms and well-kept weapons, covered in tattoos and scars and a cloud of ill will. In contrast, even at this hour teams of well-groomed individuals worked quietly up here, separated by invisible sound proofing, politely oblivious to the lower-level ruffians among them.
