by R J Johnson
Palmetto shook his head, “When we began this meeting, I assumed you knew it was pointless for me to play games with you any longer. You’ve won. There’s nothing more for me to gain by refusing to comply with your every demand. All you have to do is turn over the weapons and your government can begin their rule over the Red Planet in peace.”
Meade looked bewildered. “Palmetto, much as I want to give you what you want, I can’t. I don’t have the slightest clue to what you’re on about.”
Palmetto looked up at him, studying him as if seeing him for the first time.
“You’re joking,” the ambassador said, his voice disbelieving.
It was then Meade realized that Palmetto had been beaten all right, just not by him.
Palmetto shook his head.
“Once upon a time during our dealings with Cassandra, I underestimated you. I repeated that mistake when I sent you to die on Rosetta. It appears I have finally overestimated you for once.”
“Palmetto, why don’t you pretend like I don’t know what you’re talking about and explain why you brought me in here,” Meade said, bewildered by the man.
The Ambassador to the Coalition looked at him coldly his face becoming a mask of emotion. “I’m afraid I have no more use for you at this time Mr. Meade. I’m sorry to have wasted your time. Please give my best to Ms. Hunan.”
Meade looked around the room, feeling like he was losing control of the situation. “I don’t get the play.”
“There is no play Mr. Meade,” Palmetto said, his tone frosty. “You get to go home and get back to pretending your pathetic little rebellion makes a difference while I go and deal with the real problems of New Plymouth. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to protect you and your people from the true maniacs who inhabit this stupid rock.”
With that, Palmetto put his coat on and walked out of the room, leaving Meade behind.
Chapter Nine
A Case
When Meade returned to his office back in E-Block, Emeline was asleep. He stood over her, watching her snore on the couch in his office, a book folded over her chest.
From the looks of the meal still set out for him, Emeline tried to stay awake until he had returned from his mysterious meeting, but she had fallen asleep while reading one of the many books scattered around his office. Books were a rarity on Mars and valuable to many, including Emeline, who read everything she got her hands on. She was known to trade whiskey, favors and even gunpowder for a good read.
He picked her up off the couch, surprised at how light she was. Meade knew she would have wanted him to wake her up and tell her all about his meeting with Palmetto, but it was important that he let her get some rest. As one of the generals in the Martian Independence Movement, she had a lot of her mind. He could tell her all about it tomorrow.
Besides, he still didn’t really know what that meeting was all about and wanted a night to digest it before he told her what happened.
He deposited Emeline gently on the bed and then returned to his office to find something to eat. Because he had donated his share of the loot to Kansas, the only thing left in his cupboard was a bunch of pre-packaged lab-grown meat. The soft bar of bland protein could be prepared in all sorts of different ways, but he had grown awfully tired of having it every night for dinner.
A shadow appeared at his door and he held up the knife, preparing to attack.
“Meade, you’ve always been too goddamn touchy,” the voice purred from the doorway.
He relaxed. It was Roxanne Verblinski, owner of the Lady Luck Casino. She ran the best places on Mars where someone could get a good drink and good time. Meade had never taken part in some of the other services she offered, (he never needed to pay for such activities), but he had a lot of respect for her and she felt the same way about him.
Which meant if she was here in the middle of the night, it wasn’t good news.
She entered the room walking right up to Meade, until her body was pressed up against his.
“It’s good to see you again Jim,” she said, her voice tinted with a Ukrainian accent. “You’re looking well.”
“And you’re looking… well…” he waved his hands helplessly in front of him. “Perfect as always.”
The curvy 5’7” redhead was dressed to kill, and he felt like her first victim of the night.
“Stop it,” she said, her eyes fluttering up and down his muscular frame. “Emeline would kill you and then me if she caught you casting eyes at me like that.”
“She knows a hungry man can look at the menu without ordering,” he said.
She waved dismissively at him. “You and I had our chance. You choose the best women I’ve ever met in my life and I can’t blame you for that.”
Meade looked over at the bedroom door, smiling. “She’s my guiding star.”
“That’s incredibly sweet,” Roxanne said, smiling. Then, her eyes darkened. “But the old days aren’t why I’m here Jim.”
Meade cocked his head and indicated she should sit down on his couch. “If you’re here for my official capacity you should know I’ve kinda been neglecting my P.I. business since the rebellion started up.”
She held up a finger, wagging it at him. “Stop it. You’re talented, smart, and someone I can trust. That’s why I’m here.”
He indicated she should sit down. She glided past him and sat on the couch, leaning forward, her eyes eager.
“So much has happened, I’m not sure where to begin,” she said hesitantly.
He crossed the room and pulled up a chair next to her. He reached for her hand and grabbed it firmly.
“Tell me why you came here tonight.”
She paused as if uncertain how to start, “I’ve been having trouble keeping people around.”
Meade grunted. “I imagine the turnover rate in your business is higher than most.”
“Which is what I believed at first,” Roxanne said, nodding. “The people who come to work for me know they’re allowed total freedom. They’re treated fairly and aren’t put into any kind of contract, unlike some of the other less reputable houses around here.”
Meade grunted, waiting for her to continue.
“I began to notice it about eighteen months ago,” she said. “I didn’t think anything about it at first. Like you said, turnover is high in our business. But I’d always run into them eventually around town or hear the gossip about where they ended up.”
“And now?” he asked.
“I checked my records and from what I can tell, I’ve had sixty men and women move on in the last eighteen months.”
Roxanne’s pearl white skin was even paler than normal. She leaned forward, pleading with him. “I checked my list against Coalition records and asked around, but no one has heard anything. Nothing. No stories, gossip or rumors. They… disappeared. It’s almost as if they never existed in the first place.”
Her worried expression caught Meade’s attention. He’d never seen Roxanne look so scared before.
“Jim, I’m afraid someone’s taking them, and I don’t know why.”
“Okay,” he said, mulling what she was telling him over. “I’m smart enough to trust your gut when it says something’s off. But do you have any evidence? Have you gone to the Coalition?”
She frowned, “Now you know why I’m here.”
“Fair enough,” he said, leaning back. The MPs on Mars were more than happy to protect and serve the Elite’s interests, but it was hard to get them to care about a prostitute who went missing from a casino. A call girl disappearing was the natural order of things.
“Soon as they hear me say it’s a runabout girl the file heads straight for the trash,” she said, snorting derisively. She leaned forward and grabbed his hands. “Jim, you’re my only hope to find out what’s happening to my people. And…”
She paused as if uncertain how to continue.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m afraid it’s part of something much larger.”
�
�You’re thinking conspiracy?” he asked.
She arched an eyebrow, “I have no idea what I’m thinking. Business is… off. That’s all I can say.”
“I’ll allow, people have been acting all sorts of weird lately,” Meade said, thinking back to his conversation with Palmetto. “But as a runabout myself, I know from experience how easy it is for us to disappear. It’s what we’re known for after all.”
Roxanne looked disappointed in him.
“That doesn’t mean I won’t look into it,” he said hastily. “I’m saying don’t be surprised if I come up empty.”
“You’ll look into it?” she said, her eyes lighting up. “You’re amazing.”
She leaped up to draw him in for a hug when they heard someone clear their throat.
Emeline was standing at the doorway, her arms folded, watching the pair hug. He straightened up and stepped away from Roxanne.
“Em, you know Roxanne,” he said weakly. “She was telling me about…”
“I heard,” Emeline said, walking into the office. “And I agree with her. I’ve been hearing about other disappearances from our MiM friends. It’s not only the runabout girls at the casinos, citizens in D and E-blocks have gone missing too.”
She joined them in the room, approaching Roxanne and hugging her old friend. The two embraced – which made Meade nervous for some reason. Emeline let go and continued.
“The Coalition doesn’t give a shit because they see it as weakening our numbers, making the rebellion more likely to fail. Hell, those assholes at the UN Complex might even be behind it.”
Emeline turned back to Roxanne, grasping her hand. “We’ll do everything we can to help.”
Roxanne’s eyes filled with tears and shook Emeline’s hand. “What can I possibly do to repay you?”
“These days, I find favors more valuable than credits,” Emeline replied. “We’ll find these girls because it’s the right thing to do.”
Roxanne pulled Emeline in for a hug, grabbing her tight. “I won’t forget your kindness.”
“Yeah well,” Emeline pushed Roxanne away, her voice growing an edge. “Thing is, I know that casino of yours has tried to avoid choosing sides on the rebellion, but it’s time for you to make a choice. You copy that?”
Roxanne was taken aback by Emeline’s suddenly sharp tongue, but nodded, accepting the deal.
“Good,” she said turning back to him. “Now, about how to find the missing people?”
“Well, funny you should say that,” Meade said, drawing out the words. “I had an idea, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it…”
He looked Emeline up and down for a moment and then glanced back at Roxanne.
Emeline looked confused for a moment and then she understood, looking back and forth at Roxanne and Meade in a near panic.
“Oh, no, really?”
“Don’t worry honey,” Roxanne said, putting an arm around her. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
He had to hide the growing grin on his face as he watched Emeline’s crumble into defeat. At the same time, he felt a lot of love in the moment. She was willing to risk everything for him.
Even the application of makeup.
Chapter Ten
Bait
She was dressed to kill. At least that’s how Roxanne put it when she sent Emeline out onto the casino floor. For her part, she felt more exposed than anything else.
The mini-skirt wasn’t bad, but combined with the fishnets, crop top and glowing choker, she felt entirely out of place and certain someone would immediately spot her as an imposter.
But then again, she wasn’t there to sleep with anyone. She was only there to observe the various regulars who came to Roxanne’s Lady Luck casino looking for a score – sexual or otherwise. Meade and Roxanne were monitoring her from the overhead security cameras and thanks to a tracking device Kansas had implanted into her forearm, they knew exactly where she was at any given time.
Emeline moved through the busy casino floor, feeling a bit unstable in the four-inch stiletto heels Roxanne had loaned her. She thought for a moment when the redheaded casino handed her the heels she was joking, but as she cruised through the floor, weaving in between the various miners, businessmen, elites and other men and women in Roxanne’s stable, she saw if anything, her heels were understated.
She made her way up to the bar, trying to catch the attention of the bartender.
“You’re looking good tonight,” Meade’s voice came in over her earpiece. “Never thought you were the fishnets type.”
“I’m learning all sorts of things about myself tonight,” she snapped back over the commlink. Back to business, she thought, or else they’d be here for hours.
“How do you figure they target the girls?” she asked.
“That’s the million-credit question,” Meade replied. “You’re our eyes and ears on the ground, so you’ll have to do the majority of the legwork on this one.”
“Oh, thanks, I’m sure you’re real uncomfortable up in that security suite of yours.”
There was a pause over the commlink, and she sighed. “There’s a buffet in there isn’t there?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Meade said while chewing. His mouth sounded almost full. “They’ve got everything.”
“Can you focus, please? For one minute?”
“Right,” Meade said over the comm. “Looks like you’ve got incoming.”
A gentleman in a brown sport coat nervously approached Emeline holding two drinks. The elderly gent didn’t seem all that threatening.
“You’re very pretty,” he said, his voice, creaky and barely audible.
She stared at the miner in front of her, a blank expression on her face.
“Tell him thank you!” Roxanne hissed over the comm.
She reminded herself about her mission and put on the brightest smile she could muster, taking one of the drinks in his hand. “Thank you, what’s your name?”
“Daniel,” he said, his voice sounding a bit stronger this time.
“Daniel?” she asked, tugging at the glowing choker. Nerves had her voice sounding weird and higher than normal. “That’s fascinating, you must tell me all about it.”
The elderly miner cocked his head at this. “About… my name?”
Emeline flushed, and struggled to think of a response, but came up empty.”
Roxanne’s voice came back over the comm link, “Relax, let him do all the talking. It’s what most of them want anyway. Ask him what he does for a living.”
“Shut it,” she muttered, trying to ignore the casino owner’s unsolicited advice.
“Wha-what?” Daniel asked, looking shocked.
“No, honey, not you,” she said, patting the man’s arm. “Sorry, I mean, what do you do for a living?”
Daniel brightened considerably at this and held out his arm. He then spent the next twenty minutes filling her brain with everything there was to know about drilling into the Martian bedrock.
Despite her brain threatening to jump ship several times, she managed to nod her way through the man’s description of what he did all day every day. To be fair, the man’s job did sound miserable – trapped as he was in a small windowless office, three kilometers deep in the ground.
“There are months where I don’t see the sun,” he told her, eagerly touching her arm.
She patted his arm. Daniel was nice enough, but what a boring man.
“So,” the mole began, sounding even more nervous. “Are we gonna… you know…”
“What sweetie?” she asked, distracted.
“Do it?” he stuttered. “It’s nice talking to you about what I do and all, but you know, I want to, get, get laid, you know?”
She laughed. “You can’t afford me hon.”
Daniel looked stunned, as if he was unable to comprehend that she was turning him down.
“But I have credits…” he said, offering her his armbar display. “Losta credits.”
“I
’m sorry sweetie, candy shop’s closed.” She pushed him off the stool next to her. He tottered off, as if unable to process what had happened.
“Well that was a total waste of time,” she grumbled over the commlink. She noticed a small yellow popup on her armbar display. “Roxanne, what’s this message I got from the casino?”
“Oh,” Roxanne said, “That’s the contact log. Dismiss that.”
“Contact log?” Meade asked.
“We track everything every girl does here,” Roxanne said. “For their safety.”
“Yeah right,” she muttered. “Did any of the disappearing girls have anyone in common on their contact logs before they disappeared?”
“No, I thought of that right away. I looked over the client logs and no one had anything in common. None of those…”
“What’s the difference?” she asked, interrupting Roxanne.
“Between…?”
“Contact logs and client logs? Did you check if all your people talked to someone in common? Maybe we’re not looking for a client or series of clients who did the kidnapping,” she said, her voice becoming excited. “Maybe it’s someone who only talked to them. Made contact in some way.”
“Let me check the records,” Roxanne said, sounding skeptical.
Another businessman who looked to be steeling himself to approach her was quickly discouraged by her resting bitch face that made it clear she wasn’t interested in any new clients. The businessman took the hint and veered away at the last minute.
She glanced down at her armbar to see if the near miss qualified as a contact, but no message popped up. Apparently, the contact log only registered if you actually sat down to talk with someone for more than a minute.
“This is interesting,” Roxanne said. “But, not really a surprise.”
“What is it?” Emeline asked.
“They all had contact with the same man. Kelso Tate.”
“You know who that is?” she asked. “He someone we should keep an eye on?”
“He’s harmless,” Roxanne said dismissively. “My people know they won’t get a dime out of him.”
