A Tangled Road to Justice

by Olan Thorensen

  “Ah . . . no. One of the hospital’s nurses was looking through security videos. Turns out, Ferantis comes in fairly regularly for chronic infections caused by old injuries to his sinus membranes. He was in just three weeks ago, and the nurse, I won’t give you her name, says she can recognize him. If she does, I’ll print out the best shot of him and come find you.”

  Five hours later, Ashraf Hayek came to the marshal’s office and laid a printout stack of men’s faces in front of Millen.

  “The one on top is Niko Ferantis. A nurse at the hospital found him on a security video. Gebran printed out his head, along with nineteen other faces of men Elena Landa could never have met—family pictures from Gebran and other hospital staff, from Francesca and me, and from a collection of old holovids I have. Francesca took them to show Elena. She picked out Ferantis’s photo as one of the men who attacked her.”

  “Well, that’s it then,” I said. “We still don’t have Neliseranda’s picture, but he must have the red hair and scars Elena Landis identified on one of her attackers. Ferantis is blonde. Now we just need to learn when the two men will be at the Apex.”

  My answer came two days later—two days of waiting and watching to see whether Cherkoff moved before we did. On that morning, I unlocked the office door and found a folded sheet of paper that had been slipped under the door. In large block lettering, it read, “Apex, regular, not all nights.”

  “Must be from Bossev’s contact at VLK,” said Millen. “We can assume it means Ferantis and Neliseranda come to the Apex on a regular basis but not every night. I guess that’s the best we can do. About noon, let’s mosey on over to the Starliner and see if Ashraf has ideas on how we can get to the Apex without being noticed. We have to assume Cherkoff has either his men or some townspeople keeping an eye on us.”

  “Not on anything like a road,” said Ashraf, after we found him, “but there are game trails and a lot of open country. Cycles could leave Justice going in the opposite direction before circling back and paralleling the road to the mining complex. Apex is only a kilometer or so farther on. You’d never figure it out on your own, so I’ll have to show you.”

  I liked the offer but wondered whether Millen would demur. He didn’t.

  “One more step to getting locals involved,” he said after Ashraf left. “You and I are phenomenal bad asses, but Cherkoff does have a lot of men, and some backup will be nice. That’s assuming Ashraf truly commits—which I expect he will.”

  By agreement, that evening after the last light faded, we rode our cycles north. We used headlights until we were a half-kilometer out of town, then turned them off and waited to see if anyone followed. Millen cursed under his breath at not having infra-red on the drone he’d brought.

  “Why didn’t you have a more sophisticated one printed at the manufactory in Oslo?” I asked.

  “Two reasons. One is that it would have taken more time. The structural components would have been no problem, but too much of the circuitry would have needed components imported to Astrild, and technicians would then have had to finish putting the drone together. The second reason is we don’t want to draw attention. The drone might not have raised flags, but at some point certain people may get interested in us and tie us to the drone. Despite its limitations, the drone I brought is sufficient in most cases. I’m just bitching at not having everything I’d like. I also wish we had better comms with a longer range that could break through the satellite screening Cherkoff set up, a bunch of rover eyes, and whatever else we’ll eventually need.”

  The “rover eyes” were spider-like robots I’d used in the FSES to spread our awareness out several hundred meters, depending on terrain. I confessed I felt somewhat naked without them or expansive drone coverage.

  “I suspect you’ll adjust. You’ve got a better intuitive sense of situations than you realize, which is one reason you were recruited.”

  “Huh? How would you know that? And how could anyone make that judgment?”

  “Remember, I saw your file before I met you as part of my evaluation. I had to see whether I’d agree to take you on. I was particularly interested in the file’s conclusion that either you were extraordinarily lucky, or you had an intuitive sense of situations that objective analysis couldn’t explain. Although it wasn’t detailed, I suspect that advanced AIs pored over all your action data and footage from your entire time with the FSES. I’ve seen AIs and complex algorithms draw amazing conclusions. Makes you shake your head at how they figure out what they do when given mountains of data, even if most of it seems inconsequential and irrelevant.”

  “So, does this mean you’ll trust any gut feelings I have?” I asked, curious about how much he believed computer-generated bullshit.

  “Oh, it means I’ll take your ideas seriously, though it’ll go in the mix, along with facts, observations, and my own experience. For now, it seems reasonable that no one followed us. Ashraf said there should be a bridge over a stream just ahead, and he said he’d met us there.”

  We used the night-vision goggles from this point on. It slowed us down, but when combined with the nearly silent operation of the cycles, we could almost pass like ghosts. We startled Ashraf sitting on his cycle when we threw up gravel and plant debris by braking off the side of the road.

  “Damn! How the hell do you see where you’re—” He broke off as he recognized the goggles. “Ah, handy things. I doubt any of Cherkoff’s men have them. You don’t happen to have a third pair, do you?”

  “No, unfortunately not,” Millen said.

  “Too bad, but it shouldn’t make much difference in the first ten kilometers or so because we’ll be away from any people. The last couple of kilometers, though, my cycle’s lights will have to be off.”

  “Won’t work,” said Millen. “If Everett and I are going to make this trip without you in the future, we’ll have to know the route using the goggles. It’ll be cramped with someone your size, but you’ll have to ride behind me and point out directions and landmarks.”

  “Hah!” rumbled the big man. “It’ll be the tightest clench I’ve had with a man since my father died. Don’t get any ideas about our relationship.”

  “You’re not my type. Too much hair in the wrong places. Let’s get going.”

  Ashraf slung a long-barreled, wide-bore, bolt-action rifle over his shoulder before sitting behind Millen.

  “Another firearm you forgot to turn in?” I asked.

  “A work tool,” said Ashraf. “Before working for Francesca, I had various jobs, which included clearing some of the larger, more dangerous local animals from farming and ranching country. You don’t need anything exotic for that, and simple rifles are still the best. This will stop any animal that lives on Astrild.”

  “Also do a nasty job on any humans, I’d imagine,” said Millen.

  “Forget humans,” I said. “It might do a job on light armored vehicles.”

  We started off slowly, until Millen and Ashraf worked out their communication system and made several wrong turns. With all the reverses, I wondered whether Millen could repeat the route without Ashraf’s guidance. I thought I could, and I figured between the two of us we’d be okay. Unfortunately, when Cherkoff had managed to limit satellite usage in the Justice area, it included blocking GPS.

  After about three kilometers and more wrong turns, Ashraf and Millen got into a rhythm, and the last seven kilometers went quickly. We stopped just before the top of a hill covered with the Astrild fern-like grass equivalent.

  I knew we were close to the mining complex because to our right and perpendicular to our direction of travel, low-hanging clouds reflected lights from below.

  “From here, we’ll drop down to the river and follow it to the Apex,” said Ashraf. “We won’t be near the road until we’re almost there. You two may be better at skulking around than I’d be, so I’ll wait with the cycles while you figure out what you’re doing next.”

  I hadn’t been satisfied with Millen’s explanation of how we’d fin
d Ferantis and Neliseranda at the Apex. “Oh, we’ll figure it out” wasn’t much of a plan.

  “What if we just walk into the bar where we expect they’ll go?” I asked.

  “Well,” Ashraf said, “workers do come and go, but the turnover isn’t so much that you wouldn’t stand out. Plus, locals frequent the place, besides Cherkoff’s men. I guess it’s possible the VLK workers would assume you’re local, and locals would assume you’re VLK.”

  “Wouldn’t we be taking a chance of being recognized by locals?” I asked.

  “Maybe. But otherwise, are you just going to sit outside all night, hidden somewhere, and watch men go in?”

  “I’ll do a short reconnoiter,” said Millen. “There’s no way to avoid going inside to check it out. I think I can be more unobtrusive than Everett. He doesn’t have the knack yet of disappearing. If he went in, it’d be a red flag hoisted, saying, ‘Here I am, looking for someone and trying not to be noticed.”

  Ashraf and Millen both laughed, which was okay with me. I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of walking into a bar full of Cherkoff’s men who might recognize me.

  “Out of curiosity, where do you figure on accosting Ferantis and Neliseranda?” asked Ashraf. “Once they leave the bar? Following them on their way back to wherever they stay on Cherkoff’s ranches?”

  “In the bar,” I answered before Millen could respond. “If this is going to be an object lesson and force Cherkoff’s hand, I agree with Millen that it needs to be public.”

  Ashraf whistled. “I guess I was thinking something quieter. You might find other Cherkoff men there to complicate things. Plus, it’s going to cause a fuss with the VLK people. Watch out for the Lamoa brothers. They’re the security hired by Schlottner. They check regularly on the bar and will come running at the first sign of trouble. They’re okay, but they take their jobs seriously. I wouldn’t want you to get into a shooting match with them, especially after dealing with Ferantis and Neliseranda. I like both Lamoas and don’t want them ending up as collateral damage.”

  “We’ll be careful,” said Millen. “It would make things more complicated if we got on the wrong side of VLK.”

  Millen tugged at my arm, and we set off, leaving Ashraf with the cycles and a blanket he’d brought for the night chill. This far from Justice, terrestrial species hadn’t yet encroached on Astrild flora. The night-vision goggles’ greenish tinge created a fantastical landscape with the fern-like carpet, lollipop trees, cycads, and other plants with architecture different from anything on Earth.

  We’d been able to see the complex glow from where we’d left Ashraf and the cycles, so we had no problem keeping our orientation. Lights from the occasional vehicle on the connecting road also helped us pinpoint the Apex. Coming back would be different, and we both noted landmarks easy enough to spot if we were running from pursuers. We stopped two hundred meters from a two-story structure with multiple facades and signs.

  “Mighty obliging of VLK to ensure we know where the bar is,” I said sardonically. A glaring meter-tall red LED sign that read “BAR” stood over a glass double door. We watched an electric vehicle pull up and two men and a woman get out and go into the bar. Out of another door came a man carrying a bag.

  “Must be the store,” said Millen. I could almost hear his smile. “Interesting the biggest sign is over the bar entrance.”

  “Yeah. I’d think coming out is when you’d need directions. Like, ‘Where’s my fucking car?’ ‘Who am I, and where do I live?’”

  Millen reached into his pack and pulled out one of our small remote cameras—the one that had covered the street in front of the marshal’s office.

  “I’ll go in for a quick look to get the lay of the place. It’d be sheer luck for Ferantis and Neliseranda to already be there, but I’ll check anyway. On the way in, I’ll set the camera up to give at least side views of faces of people entering and leaving. We’ll have to leave it in place. If we carefully husband the charge by using its remote to turn it on only when people enter or exit, it should last three or four nights.”

  I wasn’t convinced that Millen walking into the bar was such a great idea, though I conceded both of us going in blind once our quarry was identified was even worse.

  Twenty minutes later, Millen returned. “Nice place. Reasonably clean, and prices seemed fair.”

  “What, did you order a drink? You didn’t get take-out? I might get hungry later.”

  Millen didn’t respond to my snide remarks. “No sign of either of our men. I’d like to watch farther back, but we have to be able to activate the camera from here, where we can see the entrance. It’ll get tedious, so we’ll do it in shifts—an hour each. I’ll start. Try to snooze if you can, and I’ll wake you when it’s your turn. We’ll give it to three in the morning or sooner if it looks like they’ve closed.”

  Millen already had the camera’s password keyed into his comm. I set mine and leaned back onto the low ferns. They weren’t a bad cushion after I moved a couple of rocks.

  Sleeping on demand being one of my skills, I got almost an hour’s sleep before Millen shook my shoulder.

  “Nothing. Camera’s working okay. Only a couple of times was the angle not good enough to make out the faces.”

  My hour went by with the same results, as did Millen’s second tour.

  “Fewer coming and more going. Might mean the business day is winding down.”

  I grunted and got my comm connected to the camera. Ten minutes into my shift, the LED light turned off, and eight men and two women straggled out the door. I scrambled to get views of the men, but only caught seven of the eight before they were out of the camera’s range.

  I nudged Millen. “Looks like the bar shut down. Didn’t recognize any of the people leaving after the sign turned off.”

  “Okay, let’s give it a couple more minutes to be sure no one else is leaving, then head back to Ashraf. We’ve got the details down; now we’ll just have to repeat this until they show up.”

  The next night, we observed from the same position for five hours, to no avail. “How much longer are we going to do this?” I asked when we got to the cycles to head back to Justice.

  “Well, the purpose was two-fold. Get some of the leading citizens involved in anti-Cherkoff activity and provoke Cherkoff into doing something before he might want to act. Both are in jeopardy if we can’t find Ferantis and Neliseranda. We’ll give it two more nights. If still nothing, we may have to hunt them down on Cherkoff’s property—something I’d prefer to avoid unless we had a good-sized posse with us. You do know what a posse is, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I know, plus it was on the list of words you insisted on reciting to me on the dirigible to Justice. So, yes, I know what a posse is, and no, I don’t think that would be a good idea. If your posse was made up of men from Justice, we might be in more danger of getting shot by them than by Cherkoff’s men.”

  “Now, I don’t think it’d be that bad. Maybe. And we’d plan it so they weren’t behind us and wouldn’t shoot us in the back by mistake. However, if things work out, we might go the posse route when it comes time to finish rooting out Cherkoff’s organization.”

  Millen started whistling music from one of his favorite 3D-rendered holovids. I let him lead the way back to Justice, and I dropped behind about thirty meters, so I didn’t have to listen to the same dozen bars of music, over and over.

  CHAPTER 14

  The following night we settled in for another long wait. I took first watch, starting at sundown. Millen sat against an Astrilian tree trunk and had his comm next to his ear. I had no idea what he was listening to. Fifteen minutes into my shift, a black car with a “C” painted on its doors parked, and three men got out. Just as they reached the bar door, one man turned his head to give me the first good look at him.

  “Hey,” I hissed. “I think that’s Ferantis. He’s with two other men. I’ll give you good odds one of them is Neliseranda.”

  Millen was on his feet. “Buckle up your six-
shooter, pard, it’s high noon.”

  I might have been around Millen too much already—I thought I understood what he’d just said.

  We wore clothing typical of Astrilians who lived away from the large cities. Millen carried his pistol under an armpit; mine was in the small of my back. We each also carried an extra magazine in a pocket. It was a light load, but this wasn’t intended to be a lengthy gunfight.

  We waited until we couldn’t see anyone outside and walked to the bar’s double doors. Millen retrieved the camera from a bush. The bar’s interior could have been on any of a hundred worlds and in thousands of cities and towns: worn furniture; uneven dim lighting; and an odor coming from bodies, perspiration-stained clothes, perfumes, alcohol (fresh and stale), grease from bar snacks, and hints of tobacco, marijuana, and jubarba leaves.

  A dozen people stood or sat at the bar. Another thirty were scattered about the room, some alone or with one or two companions. Other tables had four to six men engaged in card games. We couldn’t stand and visibly search for our quarry, so we sidled between customers at the bar and ordered beers.

  “Haven’t seen you men before,” said the bartender, as he put two cold glasses in front of us. My beer’s head ran down one side of the glass.

  “Just in from Oslo,” I said. We had rehearsed our story.

  “Working for Cherkoff,” said Millen. “Some of the other men pointed us here. We don’t know anybody yet, but supposedly other Cherkoff men are usually here. How about tonight? Any we can introduce ourselves to?”

  The bartender’s expression got decidedly less congenial on learning who we worked for, but it didn’t prevent him from answering by nodding to our left. “The four men at the table with six chairs. One man is wearing a green shirt with a black scarf.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  As we strolled that direction, Millen whispered to me. “I know you’re conflicted. I can take care of this if you’d rather not. However, first I’ll see if I can’t get them to convict themselves.”