by D. M. Pruden
“Why are the Martians after him?”
Owen pauses, clearly considering his next words carefully. “I think I can find out, but I’ll need to dig in places that nobody is meant to snoop in.”
“I don’t want to compromise your situation.”
“I can handle myself, but what I turn up could place you in danger.”
Well, there it is. I’m fucked either way.
I can drop it all now, forget about Willis, and tell Umbra to fuck off. It will mean lying to Chloe and Chambers. They may never track down Nancy, and Chloe will be forced to return home to enter a relationship that will probably kill her.
News that his sister could still be alive affected Chambers. His life will never be the same, and I can imagine him forsaking everything to continue the hopeless search for her. That will create cascading consequences for Schmaltz, Mikey, Shin, Miller, and Cervantes. Right now, they are making significant money working on Requiem; more than they ever could anywhere else. They can each pull themselves for the benefit of themselves and their families.
I may have the right to turn my back on all of them, but do I have the nerve? If I drop this, will I ever sleep soundly or be able to look at myself in the mirror again?
“Fuck it,” I say. “I’ve been in one form of danger or another most of my life. Learn what you can, Owen. With three corpses to show for our effort to date, we are going to need something else to go on, because the trail is as dead as them.”
“Will do,” he says. “I can’t promise anything will come from it, though.”
“I know, but I’m out of ideas.”
We’ve reached the upper level where Requiem’s berth is. We agree to keep his existence a secret from my crewmates, for the time being.
“May I ask you one more favour?” I say.
He smiles. “Sure.”
“Can you check around for any information about a woman named Nancy Chambers? There is a rumour she was brought to Phobos sometime in the past year.”
“You can’t narrow it down more than that?”
I think about it then give him the dates for when Callisto’s Star was hijacked and when I met Chloe on Luna.
“That’s still a broad range,” he says, “but I’ll see what I can learn. Can I do anything else for you?” There is a playful twinkle in his eye.
I smile. “How much is all of this going to cost me, Owen?”
“Mel, I’m doing this for old time’s sake.”
“But why? You don’t owe me anything.”
“Technically, you saved my life once, but do I need to be in debt to want to help you?”
I wince at the memory. “As I recall, I pushed you into a raging river. I don’t believe trying to kill you qualifies as saving your life.”
“I could swim, so I was never in danger.”
“But I didn’t realize that at the time.”
“It was the only thing you could do to keep those guys from hurting me. You put yourself between me and them, and I won’t forget that.”
I am at a loss for words. When I met Owen, I was lost in a part of the city I’d never seen before. This innocent, trusting little orphan offered to share his hovel and meagre scraps of food. He was just a lonely, naïve boy who took a foolish chance to help someone who, for all he knew, might slit his throat and take what little he had.
Almost twenty years now passed, and I don’t think his nature is changed a bit. I don’t understand that, but it is endearing.
“I’m grateful for your assistance,” I say, “regardless of your reasons for doing so.”
He winks. “I’ll contact you soon.”
And like that, he is gone.
Chapter Fourteen
Returning to Requiem, I decide I need a cup of coffee. On entering the galley, I interrupt Chambers and Chloe, who are involved in an intense conversation. They both shut up and upon realizing it is me relax almost simultaneously.
“Where the hell were you, Destin?” he asks.
“I, um, had cabin fever, so decided to go out and check the restaurant scene on the station. Short summary: nothing is here to waste time with.”
He frowns. “I could have told you that.”
Chloe nudges him. “Tell her what we learned.”
Her words smack me like a wet towel to the face. Of course, they weren’t just sitting on the ship while I ran about with Owen. “What is it?”
“I got a lead on Willis,” says Chambers.
I try to mask my surprise. “Oh? What is it?”
His back straightens, and he presents a self-satisfied smile. “An old army buddy of mine works for traffic control. He told me about an unscheduled personal transport arrival here eight weeks ago.”
“So?”
Annoyance replaces smugness on his face. “So, I spread some of Chloe’s money around in the dock security office. You’d be surprised how little it cost to buy access to the surveillance feeds.”
Chloe smacks him on the leg. “Focus, Roy.”
“What? Oh, yeah. I scrolled through about ten hours of records from all over the station. I was about to give up when I spotted him.”
“Willis? You’re sure?”
A flash of doubt enters his eyes then is gone. “It was just for a second, but Maggie estimates a fifty-seven percent probability it is him.”
I raise one eyebrow. “Fifty-seven? Are you joking?”
It is Chloe’s turn to frown. “This is more than we had yesterday.”
“Yeah, right. Sorry, I didn’t mean to piss on the party.” Turning back to Chambers, I say, “Please continue.”
His confidence rattled, he says, “Right, so after Maggie’s confirmation, I went back to go over all available video since then. The bastards were on to me, though, and it cost a lot more this time.”
“Did you learn anything more?”
“I almost went blind reviewing six weeks of feeds. Do you appreciate how many kilometres of tunnels are monitored? The number of cameras there are?”
“Roy,” both Chloe and I say together.
“Sorry, lack of sleep makes me ramble. Willis is one slippery bastard. He managed to keep out of sight and avoid the surveillance network; at least, he did until two weeks ago. I saw him, clear as day; no doubt at all that it is Willis.”
“Where was he?” I ask, fearful of what he might tell me.
“He entered one of the lowermost levels. I checked the station plans, and it’s down around some old tunnels where access is restricted.”
My heart is pounding in my throat. “Did you see anyone else on the video?”
“No, he was alone.”
My mouth is too dry for me to swallow. “I, uh, I mean, how busy is that area?”
His brow creases. “I told you that nobody is allowed down there. A maintenance crew went through, but nobody else. Like the vermin he is, he’s located a hole in the ground to hide in.”
“It was a couple of weeks ago. Perhaps he found another exit; one that isn’t monitored.”
Both Chloe and Chambers regard me like I told them I personally met Jesus, and he’s offering a limited-time discount on eternal salvation.
“Mel,” she says, “this is the only solid lead we’ve had since Willis left Luna. We thought you’d be pleased.”
“Yeah, sure, I’m giddy about the news.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Chambers asks.
All I can see in my mind are the three dead men lying on the autopsy table, each of them with their brains blown out.
“Well...a lot of time passed since that video was recorded. He probably got out some other way. Kilometres of tunnels run throughout this moon; more than can be monitored. He might be long gone. Maybe we should focus on other areas.”
“Which ones?”
“The docks, possibly. Perhaps it would be wise to check out the flight plan of every departing ship over the last two weeks. We shouldn’t get hung up on one old lead. We’ve hardly turned over every rock.”
Chloe eyes me skepti
cally. “We’re doing that. What’s going on, Mel?”
Shit! “Nothing. Nothing is going on. This is encouraging news. What is your idea to follow up on it?”
“I was going to take a couple of the boys with me and check that tunnel out,” says Chambers, still eyeing me as if he expects me to sprout an extra head.
“No!” I say, before I can catch myself. “I mean, they aren’t read in on this. We agreed we weren’t going to involve them unless their lives depend on knowing. Then they get the choice to continue or not.”
“Well, I’m not comfortable going down there alone. Having Miller or Cervantes along gives us strength of numbers.”
“A bad idea,” I say, images of the dead men vivid in my mind. “Besides, who says you’ll be going by yourself? I’m going to come with you.”
“Mel, you’re clueless how to use a gun.”
“What guns? You never said anything about that.”
“Well, you don’t think I’m going after Willis unarmed, do you?”
“Okay, of course you’re right; a weapon is a smart idea. But I used one on Luna, a few weeks ago.”
He raises an eyebrow and appears ready to dismiss my ridiculous claims when Chloe speaks up.
“I can shoot. Father made sure I was trained to use firearms.”
“You can’t go,” I say.
She frowns and says, “Why the hell not? We both have far more at stake in finding Willis than you, Mel.”
I look from one of them to the other. Their expressions are determined.
“The three of us will go,” I say. “I may not be competent with a gun, but I can at least patch you up when you get yourselves shot.”
“Agreed,” says Chloe, turning to Chambers.
He studies us. He can’t be foolish enough to want to pursue this line of action. A rational man, he is clearly weighing the wisdom of putting himself in harm’s way with only the two of us as his backup. My plan is working.
“Fine, we do it your way,” he says.
Fuck!
“I’ll pull the weapons from the armoury and—”
“Wait,” I say, “there is an armoury on Requiem?”
“My personal one, in my quarters.”
I decide I’ve said enough.
“We’ll meet at the ship’s airlock in fifteen minutes,” he says.
“Uh, can we make it an hour? I just returned and need to attend to some personal, female type of matters.”
“One hour, then,” says Chloe.
Chambers sighs heavily. “Fine. Neither of you be late, or I’ll leave without you.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I say, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
I go to get the coffee I came to the galley for in the first place and wait for them to depart.
When I am alone, I lean against the counter.
What the fuck just happened?
I managed to buy myself a little time, so I need to make the most of it. Picking up my cup, I go quickly to the med-bay, locking the door behind me.
“Maggie, I need you to send a message...”
Chapter Fifteen
I make sure I am at the ship’s airlock five minutes early.
Chloe arrives a minute later, followed shortly by Chambers. He wears a gun strapped to his thigh. He reminds me of an adventure hero in an old movie. In one hand he holds two belts, and in the other he carries a metre-long metal case.
“What’s this?” I ask as he hands a belt to me.
“A sidearm holster,” he answers as he drops to a knee to set down and open the case.
I stifle my smartass reply when I see the collection of weapons inside: two snub-nosed military automatic rifles and three pistols.
“When you said you keep a personal armoury in your quarters, I did not imagine anything like this.”
He ignores me and passes us each a pistol, quickly demonstrating how to operate the safety switch. I turn the thing over in my hand. “Don’t you think we need a rocket launcher too, or something a little bigger?”
“Can’t use explosives in a confined space,” he replies with a straight face. I can’t tell if he is stating a fact or just bullshitting.
Chloe says, “Do you really believe we’ll be able to wander through Phobos carrying all this stuff? Aren’t there laws?”
“Keep it concealed beneath your coat.” He passes us each two cartridges. “This is the ammo. Put it in a pocket and don’t load the pistols until I tell you. It is legal to carry an unloaded gun on the station.”
He closes the case and picks it up as he stands.
I point to it. “How will you explain that if we’re stopped and searched?”
“I’m not going to do anything so stupid that I’ll be noticed.”
“And you think we will?” I say.
“Just try not to stand out too much,” he says as he walks past me. “Are you coming?”
I shove the empty pistol into the holster on my hip and the cartridges into my jacket pocket. Then I hurry after him and Chloe.
When we reach the entrance to the tunnel leading to the lower levels, Chambers stops to address us. “I sent your CIs an updated map of the route we’re taking. If we become separated, you’ll be able to find your way back to the ship by yourselves.”
He doesn’t wait for a reply and turns to clank down the metal gangway leading deeper into the moon. His step is practiced, and he makes walking in mag boots look so easy. Chloe and I both struggle to match his pace.
When the separation between us approaches thirty metres or so, I call ahead to him. “Hey, you wanna slow it down a bit?”
He stops to wait for us.
“Whew, thanks. Using these things would be a lot easier if we weren’t trying to beat speed records. It feels like I’m going to launch myself into orbit with each step.”
“Don’t take such large steps,” he says. “You’ll do better once you find your natural rhythm. See, Chloe is already catching on.”
She smiles at me before continuing ahead. Her gait is dance in motion. I’m as graceful as a cow wearing rubber galoshes. I think I hate her.
He pats me patronizingly on the shoulder. “You’ll catch on, Mel.” Then he follows Chloe.
Grinding my teeth, I focus on each step as I try to keep up. Even though he slowed his pace, I still struggle. When I was by myself down here earlier, I had no problems. I could take my time. Sure, I was slow, but I got to where I was going.
Owen doesn’t press me like Chambers does, but he isn’t on a mission to find his missing sister, either.
After ten minutes of travel in silence, my steps become more coordinated, and I don’t struggle so much to match the pace.
We enter a tunnel system much deeper than the one Owen and I visited. These seem to be of a different construction style from the ones I encountered to date. The tunnels are narrower and lower. Instead of exposed rock, they are covered with some sort of sprayed-on liner.
An hour and a half later, just when I’m beginning to wish I’d dropped a trail of breadcrumbs to help me find my way home, we stop at a junction between two tunnels.
“This is where Willis was last seen,” says Chambers, pointing to a security camera. “He headed this way.” He indicates a passage leading off the one we’ve been following.
I follow his gaze down it to see that the string of irregularly spaced light panels ends about a hundred metres in.
“We’re going to need our torches,” he says as he pulls one from his pocket. Chloe and I retrieve ours, and we all shine them inside.
I check the environmental conditions on the control interface embedded in the sleeve of my jacket.
“The oxygen concentration is elevated down here,” I say. “Nothing toxic, but we should keep an eye on it.”
“Nobody has been down here to breathe the air for some time,” says Chambers. “These walls are lined to prevent atmosphere leakage. We must be near some tunnels exposed to vacuum.”
“Should we be wearing EVA suits?”
I ask.
“Not unless you plan to do some digging; another reason we brought small-calibre rounds and no explosives. We don’t want to risk puncturing this liner.” He pats the wall.
“How safe are we?” Chloe asks.
“Safe enough,” he says, “but don’t wander off.”
He enters the tunnel and walks for ten or so metres before stopping.
After peering ahead, he kneels to set the case on the floor. “We’re out of sight of the cameras. It’s time to load your pistols,” he says as he pulls one of the snub-nosed automatics out and slaps a magazine into it.
I watch Chloe point her pistol at the ground and slide an ammunition clip into the handle. I nervously follow her example with my own gun. She leans over to press a switch on the side of my firearm. “This is the safety. Keep it on until you intend to shoot something.”
“Uh, thanks,” I say.
Looking over to Chambers, I notice that the case is not empty.
“Who gets that one?” I ask, pointing at the remaining automatic.
He grunts. “Not you.” Addressing Chloe, he says, “Did your training include using one of these?”
“Yes.”
He hands it to her, along with a magazine. Without hesitation, she expertly slaps the clip in place and gives the weapon a once-over. “I assume you maintain this?”
“She’s one of my babies; cleaned and oiled this morning.”
“Hmm, this model tends to jam when it overheats.”
“I didn’t bring enough ammunition for that to become a problem.”
Chloe examines it for a moment more before she nods her approval and slings it over her shoulder by the strap.
“Your dad paid for lessons, huh?” I say. “Just out of interest, who taught you?”
“Father hired some ex-mercenaries to instruct me.”
“Any other hidden talents we should know about?”
