I relax back in my swivel chair, looking out the window. It is pouring down, the rain rattling the windowpane. A miserable torrential downpour that hasn’t relented for days. Even the air in the office is damp and cold, the heating having giving up the ghost a few days back. Looking up past the rooftop of the drab brown building opposite that houses the Centura loan centre, even more ominous depressing black clouds roll across the heavens.
It is late Friday afternoon, and I am still at my desk with a pile of case records to file. Paperwork was never my forte, and my secretary, Della, had she still been with me would have finished them days ago and neatly filed them away. Unfortunately for me, circumstances dictated that she sought other employment. Not that I could fault her, after all business being what it is I hadn’t deposited any credits into her account for several months. Della and I parted on a friendly basis, but that had left me stuck with a gaping hole in the business that I couldn’t afford to fill.
Swinging my seat round from the window, I reach up to the percolator to pour another coffee.
“Damn, Cold!”
Unwilling to fill the percolator I slip a tabac between my lips, and place my feet up on the corner of my desk. Flicking my lighter, I light the tabac and exhale a thick cloud of blue-tinged smoke. Tobacco had been abolished for social reasons way back when, as the miracle cure for all known types of cancer had been discovered on some far off planet numerous years ago. The tabac has become a reasonable substitute, and one that has no health side affects.
The office is a mess. The filing cabinet is in urgent need of repair, layers of dust have settled on the top. The couch in the corner has rips in the material, and lately has been more of a bed for me than seating for clients. My computer sits in the other corner and is about the most modern thing in the office, and even that is years old. A fine pale blue web clings from the top of the windowsill to the nearby corner, the grey Trago bug, a species similar to the earthly spider, and just as damn ugly, sits in the webs centre chewing on a Clayfly.
God, I wish I’d never heard of the damn Syndicate.
The blue cloud begins to dissipate. I look through the smoke to see the glass-paned door with the words DIAMOND INVESTIGATIONS in reverse, through which I could just make out the outline of someone of large stature approaching. As the door handle turns, I drop my feet back to the floor.
“Hello, Diamond,” came a gruff greeting.
My heart sinks. Standing in the doorframe, much to my annoyance, is the bulk of Opas Holburn, a man whose reputation within the corporate sector is shady to say the least. Holburn, known to most as the Caretaker, oversees all the underhanded dealings of the Manso Syndicate, a corporate body that rules virtually everything on Sempra.
Holburn makes sure there is no official involvement by the authorities when anything goes wrong with Syndicate plans. It is believed he has several high placed officials in his pocket. He’s a guy with little compassion for those who dare to cross his bosses, a guy who can frost glass with one icy stare, but more importantly, though unfortunately, one of my paying clients.
I’d done business with the Syndicate on a couple of occasions. They pay well for results, but often those results cost more than is bargained for, and I’d sworn never again. I ground the stub of the tabac into the ashtray.
“What ya want, Holburn?” I didn’t really want to know the answer.
Holburn’s large frame crosses to my desk in three long strides, and fully blocks my view of the door.
“I have a small task for you,” he grates through yellowing teeth.
“Sorry, not interested!” I reply as I swing back round to face the percolator.
Holburn’s deep voice breathes on my neck as he leans over the desk and almost whispers. “I don’t see anyone else offering gainful employment. You’d better pull yourself together Diamond or you may end up in a most uncomfortable position!”
I turn back to face him, Holburn straightens and gives me one of his cold, icy stares. Of course he is right, since working for the Manso Syndicate all other prospective clients steered clear. It’s like I’ve been marked in some unseen way, like I’ve contracted a deadly plague. Either that or I stink to high heaven.
The results of this means my credits have virtually dried up and my sky-surfer has been repossessed, which means I am forced to use Sempra’s public transportation system. So far I’ve lost two wallets, a blaster, three surveillance modules, and to top it all, some stinking low-life had snatched my licence shield.
If I ever get hold of… I reminisce. Something quickly drags me back to reality. Holburn’s loud gob.
“This is Apri. She’ll be working closely with you on this venture.”
Holburn shifts to one side, revealing the doorway behind him. Standing in the doorframe is a dame. A woman dressed in an extremely snug fitting one-piece cream suit that hugs and defines a slender curvy figure. A figure that could easily melt the hardened resolve of the most unscrupulous criminal.
“Put your tongue away, Diamond, she’s not for you!” Holburn grunts.
I blink, realising I’d been staring at Apri with my jaws agape. Her sapphire locks cascade down her amply exposed cleavage and frames a face of rare beauty with aquamarine eyes and full crimson lips. She saunteres into the office with a walk that can melt butter.
“How do you do, Mister Diamond?” she asks with a sultry tone while reaching out with her delicate hand.
Eagerly I jump to my feet and gently grip her hand, and instantly withdraw it realising Apri is not what she appears to be. A knowing grin spreads across Holburn’s normally bland face.
“My compliments on your astute powers of recognition.”
Up yours, is my first thought, but I answer. “No way Holburn, I’m not having any Syndicate android in tow and that’s final!”
Holburn shrugs.
“You’ll do as required without question, otherwise you know what can happen! Apri will accompany you to ensure our needs are always in the forefront of your thoughts, and they are fully fulfilled. She is a PS thirty-nine, an extremely advanced model, in fact she’s one of a kind. We even had a bet you wouldn’t make the recognition, so it’s cost me already!”
Tough!
Sitting, I light another tabac and exhale a cloud of smoke directly at Holburn’s face. Do I have a choice? Letting the cloud dissipate, Holburn waits to make sure he has my full attention.
“Now, to the business at hand. We require you to go to Japora in the Cumari System. Once there you will seek out and track these individuals.”
Holburn slaps a holo-imager onto the desk. It flickers to life in a multitude of shimmering strands of colour to form two images, one a grey scaled reptilian, the other a guy of middle-age and human origin. I cast my eyes over the images and ask matter-of-factly, “Who are they?”
“The reptilian is a petty crim known as Razal Fizz, his cohort goes by the name of Hackar. We know very little of his past” Holburn let out a throaty cough and continues, “They have made the unfortunate mistake of pilfering something that belongs to us. We want it back. Your job is to recover it for us and whatever happens to Fizz and Hackar is of no consequence. Kill them if you wish!”
“They are extremely competent at avoiding the regular authorities, Mister Diamond,” Apri’s soft voice interjects.
Avoiding eye contact with Apri I reach out and shutdown the imager.
“What’d they get away with?”
Apri looks to Holburn. Holburn glances back at her and slides his hand into his inside left breast pocket. He pulls out and tosses a large wad of credits onto the desktop.
“That’s for expenses. You’ll be paid your usual fee plus a generous bonus should you return the item to me within two weeks,” grumbles Holburn.
“And what’s the item?” I inquire as I scoop up the credits; I am really in no position financially to refuse.
“Find Fizz and Hackar, once you have acquired the item Apri will deliver it to me. Good day, Diamond,” states Holburn as he turns and exits.
Apri remains. She stands there patiently and silently. I eye her up and down, not sure what to do. Finally I stammer quite unprofessionally to my discredit.
“So, so what’s this item Holburn spoke of?”
She smiles. “I do not know. However, once I am within the proximity of the item a recognition program will activate allowing authentication and exact location.”
“So how the hell am I supposed to know what to look for?”
“Mister Holburn does have unusual faith in your professional ability.”
My arse, I think, but say, “Okay. So as I see it, when you are near this item you’ll know what it is and where it is, right?”
“Is that not what I articulated?”
I smile and turn my attention back to the percolator.
Week old cold coffee is better than none!
Standard passenger transport en-route to Japora.
Our allotted cabins are reasonably comfortable; Apri spending most of the uneventful journey so far secluded in her cabin stating she requires downtime. Most of my time aboard has been spent in communication with a couple of long-term nefarious characters that base their own illegal operation on Japora. I’d used them before on several occasions to track a target down. Thus far, my labours had proven fruitful.
Razal Fizz, as Holburn had said, is a small time hood of no real criminal background. Hacker on the other hand is a different matter. Hacker holds a reputation of being a 'heavy' and is currently wanted on a few planets for assassination and corporate espionage. Seems like Hacker knows what he’s doing. Luckily for Hacker, Japora has no extradition treaty with the worlds he is wanted on, and so makes an ideal base for his operation.
As I take a slow walk back to my cabin, all that keeps filling my mind is, What the hell did they steal that’s so damn important to Holburn? And why does he need it returned within two weeks?
I knock on Apri’s door and am answered by silence so continue on to my cabin. Once inside I slump onto the bed, close my eyes and drift off.
“ATTENTION, docking at Japora space-dock two in fourteen minutes,” the ship's intercom blasts out, waking me abruptly from my slumber.
I grab my blaster from the bedside table and check to see if it is fully charged before slipping into its holster and quickly strapping it neatly under my left arm. Grabbing my jacket I head for Apri’s cabin. Tapping on the door, I hear Apri answer.
“Enter.”
When I walk in she is standing at the portside observation viewer with her back to me looking out at the quickly approaching space-dock with the green globe of Japora filling the backdrop.
“You ready?” I politely inquire.
“I am always ready, Mister Diamond,” comes her reply as she turns to face me.
“Er… look, as long as we have to work together on this you may as well drop the mister and just call me Diamond, okay?”
“If that is what you wish.”
I nod in agreement.
We pass through space-dock customs without bother and transfer to the space pod that will ferry us down to Japora’s immigration centre where if all went well, and I was sure it would, we would be released into the public domain.
How wrong could I be?
Japora security were waiting for one of the passengers, apparently this guy had done the dirty on the resident high-minister's daughter and was being returned to face a blood-klan trial. Unfortunately this guy wasn’t of a mind to wait and had the help of an accomplice to make a dash for freedom. The escape failed however, but the accomplice managed to evade capture. The officials closed down immigration until such time he was captured. The result of which is everyone being interviewed and having their identity records checked. Three hours later Apri and I step out into Japora’s night and look out over the expanse of Devil City.
Devil City, Japora.
What a shit hole, is my first thought; I now remember how much I dislike the place.
Devil City; I’d forgotten what a dive it is; it hadn’t quite managed to drag itself into the thirty-seventh century, many of its buildings are crudely constructed of wood and sandstone blocks. Its road structure is not much more than pressed mud tracks. It’s like the place is caught in an earthly time warp dating back to Earth's early twentieth century. Yet the natives of Japora have been given every opportunity and aid to grasp the latest fashion and technology, but somewhere along the line it had been greatly misplaced.
Devil City; aptly named for you wouldn’t find a more corrupt den of deviants in this system. Over the years, and probably a large lack of interest by those in power, it has become a haven for those who operate beyond civilised boundaries and the law. Oh it has an enforcement regime, a regime that would act when it felt the need to, but usually turns a blind eye as long as those who run the regime receive their usual backhanded remuneration.
Apri gently nudges my arm, bringing my mind's wondering to an abrupt end. Reality slaps me full in the face when the ugliest taxi driver I’ve ever seen brings his taxi. A shell-encased carriage drawn by a large green six legged mammal called a Boubor, to a skidding halt in front of us. The ugly driver leans forward, eyes Apri’s exposed bosom with lustful eyes and grumbles.
“Hmm, where to?”
I quickly toss our gear atop the shell as Apri climbs aboard then slide in beside her. The driver rips his eyes from her bosom and grips the reigns.
“Take us to the cheapest hostelry you know,” I order.
The Boubor rears its long neck and screeches as the driver slaps his whip on its shoulders.
“Move it, ya damn snail, or I’ll slice ya friggin tongue out for me supper!”
The Boubor snarls at him, the carriage lurches as it sets off.
The ride doesn’t take too long and I for one am grateful. Apri and I are tossed and jostled as the carriage slides along the potholed track. All the time the driver cussed loudly at the Boubor and used his whip without compassion.
Arriving at our destination, Apri took care of acquiring us shelter by using her corporate identity card while I argue with the driver over his extortionate fee.
“The fee’s friggin forty credits and that’s final! Pay up or I’ll have the friggin snail rip ya head off!” he threatens.
“You’ll get twenty and be thankful, or I might have your licence revoked for overcharging!” I parry.
“Tell ya what, deal me a piece of that sexy tart and ya have a deal. I sure bet she’d give a guy a damn good time!” He winks and drools.
The drooling grin almost makes me puke. The thought of any woman wanting or even willing to touch this pig turns my stomach. I chuck twenty credits in his face and finger my blaster into view.
“Get out’a here or I’ll shove ya so far up the Boubor’s arse you’ll need him to shit you back out!”
The driver eyes my blaster, spits on the ground by my feet, whips the Boubor and drives off shouting obscenities my way as I turn and enter the hostelry.
I stow the gear in our shit ridden excuse for an apartment, mentally admonishing myself for not realising Apri held a corporate card.
Why the hell didn’t I just get her to book us into somewhere more upmarket? The corporation could easily afford an expense account.
We decided it was time to get a bite to eat. Well I’d get a bite, Apri doesn’t need any sustenance, and besides it is too late in the night to traipse after Fizz and Hackar. It’d be far better making a fresh start in daylight after I’d eaten and slept. To my surprise Apri didn’t question the decision, which I was glad of because there’s nothing more annoying than having to argue the toss with a damn stubborn sinthoid.
Dawn brakes and Apri is jostling me to get up. Quickly I get dressed and down a cold coffee before we set out for a dive I used to frequent in my misspent youth. The sun is high and beaming as we enter the city's market area, which is already in full flow. Sellers constantly jostle for our attention, offering discounts for an array of wares.
Here in the marketplace one can purchase almost anything one desires, from star-ship spares, and subspace engines to exotic food and clothing. Illegal weaponry, rent girls, boys or tri-sexuals whatever your preference. I never did understand the tri-sexual thing, each to their own though, I guess the universe is filled with a diversity I will never fully comprehend. Anything you want can be located with a little time and effort and the right connections. We continue onward to where we want to be.
Fazool’s Canteen, Devil City.
Finally we reach the dive of my youthful exploits. Fazool’s Canteen; a den of dubious characters frequented by a variety of Japora’s lowlife and most of the galaxy's scum who’re on the run for one reason or another.
I’ve known the canteen's proprietor, Tam Fazool, for quite a few years and have on occasion crossed paths with him. Occasions that usually result in using brute force to gain the information I require. This occasion would be no different no doubt.
Fazool is a born coward, but a coward that knows everything and everyone on Japora. He can be bought if the price is right, but often the price is way too extravagant. Besides, causing Fazool pain is way cheaper on the pocket and usually has a quick affect.
On entering, I quickly usher Apri into one of the secluded side alcoves, telling her to wait there, so she wouldn’t attract unwanted attention from the various pimps that hang round looking for fresh talent. Sure that Apri is safe, I enter the back room where Fazool normally hangs out and goes about his underhanded dealings.
Immediately, those there are on their guard. Looks of caution and suspicion are cast in my direction. The stench of stale alcohol hangs in the air with a faint but obvious odour of narcotics mixed in.
I stand in the doorway surveying the dimly lit area, taking it all in. Two pirates known to me sit unobtrusively in a shadowed alcove to my right. One nods slightly in recognition. Gace Ravern, a renowned bounty hunter of nefarious repute sits at the bar, he watches me as I move further in and fingers his strapped down pulse pistol.
Further along the bar and flanked by two rather fetching rent girls is Tam Fazool. The bartender leans close to Fazool’s drooping ear and whispers while looking in my direction. Before Fazool can react and turn I am on him.
“Diamond,” he greets calmly as he places his steaming drink on the counter.
“Lose the meat, Fazool, we need to talk.”
He waves the girls away. Each throw him a glance of disappointment. One cheekily gives me the eye as she passes. Out of the corner of my eye I clock Ravern unclipping his weapon. Bearing this in mind I turn my attention back to Fazool.
“Fizz and Hackar, where can I find them?”
Fazool grins, showing his sharp, jagged teeth, his breath rushes at me causing my nostrils to flare at the stench.
“Sorry Diamond, I’ve never heard of them.”
The sudden eruption of laser fire echoes in the air. I swing round more by reaction than thought I draw my blaster. At the far end of the bar in a crumpled heap is Gace Ravern, smoking pulse pistol in his hand. His head lops forward, his neck snapped.
Next to Ravern’s corpse is a pair of short beige boots. My gaze follows up the legs to find Apri, a laser in her hand covering the two pirates who are now on their feet.
“He was about to terminate you,” she announces calmly. “I had no choice.”
I look up at the smouldering hole Ravern’s near miss has left in the balustrade just above my head.
“You’d better make tracks before the Feds arrive!” Fazool suggests, hoping I will take his advice.
In one swift movement my blaster is safely back in its holster and Fazool’s thin bony fingers are gripped firmly in my hand. I crush and twist them sharply knowing they are Fazool’s weak point. There is a sickening crack and Fazool lets out a loud howl.
“Fizz and Hackar?” I reiterate.
“Please Diamond, you’re really hurting me!”
Fazool’s normally bleached white fingers turn deep blue, his hand is almost fully turned; his face contorts in agony.
“Where?” I ask again and glance at Apri who still covers the pirates who have now retaken their seats.
“Please Diamond, I, I can’t tell you!”
Fazool’s hand makes a brittle crunching noise as it is forced further back.
“Aggrrr, okay, okay, they’re off world!” he cries.
“Off world...off world where? Come on Fazool, spill!”
His bulbous eyes almost push out of their sockets. His fat rubbery lips quiver. The bartender leans down and reaches under the bar but straightens rapidly when he sees my blaster pointed directly at his head. I put more pressure on Fazool’s hand. He screams and whimpers.
“Septima four, Empoc, sector seven!” he finally squeals.
“Septima? Empoc? Why?”
“I, I don’t know. Honest, Diamond.”
Yeah, I’m sure you wouldn’t lie; you’re so damn honest.
“Try again!”
Fazool’s fingers turn purple, his face burns red, and his breathing becomes erratic.
“A board member, they’re meeting with a board member that’s all I know. I swear it!”
I release my grip, Fazool draws his injured digits into his body for protection and sobs.
Something’s wrong, nags my mind, something doesn’t feel right! My mind races now. Septima is the centre of the Manso Syndicate, Empoc their antiquities research facility! Why would they go there? Who are they meeting?
“It is time we were not here,” Apri states, bringing me out of my thoughts.
She keeps the pirates covered as she backs towards the exit; I quickly follow and call back over my shoulder. “See ya, Fazool. By the way, ice is good for that hand!”
Chapter II
Septima City, Septima.
Travelling via chartered craft, Apri and I arrive on Septima in the late hours, and after a short journey by land vehicle. Skimming the outskirts of the city, we now stand outside the darkened, closed, reception area doors of the Empoc facility. I’d planned the timing of our arrival to coincide with when Empoc’s security would be patrolling the rear of the facility. This will allow us the much-needed, uninterrupted time to break in.
“We will need to gain access without alerting the local authorities,” advises Apri.
“Not a problem.” I answer with a smile, as I proudly produce one of my many fake ID’s and swipe it through the entrance slot.
The door swishes open allowing us to step through.
“Impressive!” she says as the door closes behind us.
A couple of times before, on the odd chance, I had cause to infiltrate this establishment, and had retained the expensive Empoc staff ID for future use. That’s how I knew their security patrol routine. It pays to have certain contacts within the mire of the underworld, and of course knowing Empoc’s security guards are too damn lazy to alter their timing and routes.
“Always pays to be prepared,” I smile and add “Now all we have to do is make sure their auto-surveillance system doesn’t pick us up! As long as we don’t move to the reception desk we’re safe!”
Apri’s eyes suddenly look glazed, as if she is fixed in a trance.
“I am attempting to override the system,” she states.
“You can do that?”
“I have the necessary programming and clearance. I am extracting the command codes. It should not take long now.”
I stand there silently watching her. A short time passes, probably only seconds but seems hours before she announces.
“Done.”
Nodding in acceptance, I gesture to which direction we will need to take. The layout of the place is fairly standard and I recall the records hall is situated on the next level towards the rear. By the time we get there, the patrol will have moved on to another part of the building, hopefully allowing us time to do what was needed before they return.
Records Hall, Empoc.
As I sit at the computer terminal, Apri peers over my shoulder watching Empoc’s records scroll on the screen.
“I’m looking for the log record. Everyone entering Empoc has to log a record of when and why they were here. Hopefully, if I can locate the right record, it’ll tell us who Fizz and Hacker met with.”
Apri places her hand gently atop mine halting my progress.
“I can tell you whom they met with!”
I frown and look up at her.
“Cavas Sontarus. They met with Cavas Sontarus,” she confirms.
Her tone remains calm as if the name means nothing. For me, the name Sontarus makes my hackles rise and my gut churn over slightly. Cavas Sontarus is the director of Empoc’s board. To all a highly proclaimed citizen of irrefutable reputation, and a much respected businesswoman, that’s to all who only knew her public persona. Those of us who delve into the muck ridden underworld know her as the head of the most powerful crime cartel in the galaxy. A hardened gunrunner, narcotics pusher, credit fence, and trader in human flesh who’d not think twice about have anyone who crossed her ‘removed’.
“How do you know that?” I inquire.
“This information was within Opas Holburn’s subconscious memories.”
Her answer shakes me a little, but doesn’t fully take me by surprise. It was only a matter of time before the Syndicate brain-boxes came up with an android that is capable of reading thoughts. This scares me slightly. Can she read what I’m thinking?
“Yes I can, however if you wish, I will not in future,” she confirms.
Well, that sure answers the question!
“Look…er…well, I’d rather you didn’t.”
So why didn’t Holburn tell me I could catch up with Fizz and Hacker here?
“Consider it done. I will no longer penetrate your thoughts.” Apri says.
“And how do I know that for sure?”
“I have told you, and I do not tell untruths.”
Wow, an android with built-in morals. But can I trust her?
I wait to see if she’d respond to my thought, but she remains silent.
“Don’t suppose you know why they met with Sontarus?”
“Holburn knew of the meeting, however I found no evidence of the reason,” she answers flatly.
“He could’ve hid it from you!”
“Unlikely, Holburn does not know of my telepathic ability.”
“How’s that?”
“He does not hold a sufficient security clearance grade.”
“Yet you told me.”
“I did. I am assigned to you, the information is beneficial to our mission.”
I nod and resume scrolling through the records.
“Well we still have to locate the log record. With any luck it’ll hold a vid-scan which hopefully will give us a clue to where we can now find Fizz and Hacker.”
Perhaps she really knows what this item is Holburn wants so badly and didn’t want to tell me before, suddenly dawns on me.
“You sure you don’t know what the item is?” I ask without looking.
“I am not privy to the information at this time.”
Damn, thought that would be too easy!
For the next several minutes I continue with my visual scroll through the records. Apri stands at my side in silence, until she says. “Security is beginning its sweep. They will arrive at this terminal in four point five minutes. I suggest we go.”
“Not until I have what we came for!”
Apri gives my seat a shove forcing me aside. She extends her slender hand towards the computer’s terminal port, a needle thin electrode slides out the palm of her hand and into the interface port.
“I am downloading the required records. You may view them at your leisure when we are clear.”
I look at her with astonishment. Holburn is right; she is one of a kind. Wonder what other little surprises she might be holding out on?
“Well why didn’t you say so before?”
She looks me straight in the eyes, but doesn’t answer as she extracts the probe. Heavy footsteps echo out in the corridor, footsteps that are closing in.
Cyber café, Septima.
Previous experience, and a whole lot of luck allow us to avoid Empoc security and gets us safely out. Though at one point it is an extremely close call when Apri needs to override the lock on our exit door. Unbeknownst to us, security changes all the access codes at irregular intervals. She manages to override the lock in the nick of time, thus avoiding capture and a long stint being interrogated for corporate espionage.
We now sit in one of Septima’s all-night cyber café’s. Being in the public eye is probably the safest bet for now as the café’s are frequented throughout the night by the students of Empoc University.
The café isn’t overly busy, just a few students sitting at the bar chatting, which allows us a little privacy for Apri to plug herself into the terminal without notice and upload our stolen data. She skips through at speed until she locates the required section.
“I have located what you were looking for.”
At this point, the waiter comes over with the much-deserved coffee I’d ordered on arrival. He places it on the counter and glances at the screen. Luckily Apri is quicker than he and shuts down the visual. He smiles a knowing grin, probably thinking we are scanning porn or something, and goes about his business. I take a sip from the rather tepid coffee, grimacing as I do so, and lean close to Apri as she reinstates the visual.
For the first time, and being so close to her, I notice she wears a scented fragrance that pleases my nostrils. My senses are quickly drawn from this to the screen where Cavas Sontarus is in conversation with Fizz, Hacker is nowhere to be seen. Sontarus hands something to Fizz.
“Activate the audio; I want to know what’s coming off!” I order abruptly.
Apri gives me one of those pleasing smiles of hers and replies. “The audio playback has been erased.”
Shit!
“Alright, replay in slower mode.”
She does as asked. I scrutinise the playback hoping for any kind of clue, and then there it is hitting me square in the face.
“There!” I holler.
Apri freezes the playback without skipping a beat. I glance round to see the student's look in our direction; I nod politely and they returned to their own tasks.
“Close in on Fizz’s hand.”
I move closer to the screen.
“Can you clean it up a little?”
Apri augments the required section.
“That’s a boarding pass for the liner Valcuri, it’s due to cruise the lower islands.” I state.
“You believe they are to take the cruise?”
“Why else have a boarding pass?” I shrug and follow with, “got’a be, maybe he’s smuggling for her, or maybe it’s some kind of payoff meet. I’m not sure really, but it’s a lead!”
“Then perhaps we too should acquire passage?”
“That was my thought. Can your probe thingy access the Valcuri’s passenger schedule from here?”
“Of course,” she answers and proceeds to bring up the required schedule, and then confirms. “The craft is due to depart at seven hundred hours.”
“Are Fizz and Hacker on the manifest?”
“They are. They are allocated cabin six on the promenade deck. You wish me to place us on the manifest?”
“Absolutely. Oh, and first-class sounds about right.”
Cruise liner Valcuri.
We make the Valcuri in good time; Apri books us on as a couple of high powered shipping cartel moguls taking a well deserved vacation. She even manages to swing the allocation of one of the prestigious cabins normally reserved for the owners of the Valcuri line. This allocation secures us privacy from others on the ship with the cabin being located just below the promenade deck and towards the aft section away from the public decks.
Unfortunately, there had been a small altercation on our arrival. Firstly with the confiscation of my blaster, it’d slipped my mind again that weapons aren’t allowed. Secondly, a rather loud argument transpired when the original assignees to the cabin had been abruptly moved elsewhere. The First-officer, believing Apri and I are Valcuri line board members did eventually smooth things over, resulting in the cabin remaining in our possession.
The Valcuri’s cruise of Septima’s lower islands is scheduled to last eight days. I am hopeful we can locate and grab the illusive item, and be on our way back to Centura city by the time the Valcuri reached the first island. This achieved, we can then gain passage on an alternate craft for the return journey.
The Valcuri set sail on schedule, by which time I was ravenous, not having eaten for the past twenty-four. Our gear, what there was of it, is safely tucked away, so we head for the restaurant on the observation deck. We enter and are quickly ushered to a table by a waiter, who elegantly places menus into our hands.
“May I suggest the Prosovian light breakfast, it is prepared with fresh Colo squibs,” the waiter announces with bravado.
Apri immediately places the menu on the table while I peruse the list on offer. Prosovian Colo squibs, hmm…don’t like the sound of that! I could really do with something less aquatic, maybe some fruit-bread and coffee. The waiter waits patiently while I slowly make my choice.
“Two rounds of fruit-bread, a large pot of coffee, and a couple of Tavarian beers.”
“Will that be all sir?”
I look to Apri forgetting she wouldn’t need sustenance.
“I do not require anything,” she confirms politely to the waiter, who retrieves the menus.
While I tuck into the fruit-breads, and down a strong coffee, Apri sits quietly taking in the pleasant ornate surroundings, and watching our fellow passengers. I wonder if she’s reading their thoughts. I found myself waiting for an answer, one that never comes. Well at least she can’t be reading mine anymore!
After approximately thirty minutes, and while I was downing my second beer, I nearly choke as Apri casually announces.
“Opas Holburn is a passenger on this vessel,” and she quickly continues with, “Excuse me, I must return to our cabin for a few moments to recharge my auxiliary power node.”
“Hang on!” I say grabbing her arm as she stands.
“What’d ya mean Holburn’s on this vessel?”
“Opas Holburn is allocated the executive suite on the promenade deck, some two doors down from Fizz and Hacker.”
With that, she removes my hand and heads back to the cabin leaving me to mull over what she’d just enlightened me with. What the hell’s going on? Why didn’t she say so earlier? Why is Holburn on the Valcuri? All these thoughts bombard my mind and I can’t figure an answer.
Downing the final dregs of my beer, I slowly eyed the area looking to see if Holburn, Fizz or Hacker have made an appearance. They hadn’t, although for some reason there are a few faces known to me, a few past acquaintances of disrepute. Wonder why there are so many rogues on this ship? Maybe Holburn has something going on he didn’t want me to know about? Or maybe this illusive item he’s after is of interest to these others, maybe it’s something everyone’s after!
After about fifteen minutes, I sit pondering what was so valuable that would bring some of the known scum of the galaxy together in one place. At one table a few meters to my right, sits Salom Bovar, a gangland thug, pimp, and hijacker with a scar running the length of his forehead that he’d received while serving time on a penal asteroid. Bovar is extremely touchy about this and often tries to kill anyone who mentions it.
Sitting at Bovar’s left is Nobius Nix; a blue skinned Trovian, an accomplished embezzler and corporate thief who sometimes works for Sontarus. At Bovar’s right is Lula Vortel, a bitchy seductress with a passion for poisoning her acquaintances after emptying their accounts.
Apri returns and sits as I clock the ominous presence of Pilo Hand, a killer with no remorse or compassion, a slave trader, and expert hunter. Hand’s full-length black trench coat billows out beneath the table, and I clock the glimmer of a leg knife hidden just above his boot.
Leaning against the bar are the Daco brothers. Spee Daco, the taller of the two, is the most reasonable of the brothers; he’d kill you quick and move on. Bann however, likes nothing more than to savour the pain of his victims and relishes his work in his own sadistic way. I’d only gone against the Daco’s once, and had somehow come out alive with all my bodily parts intact. If they are involved in this I’d better be on my guard.
“You know some of these people?” Apri inquires.
“Something ain’t right with all this! Something’s going down here that I’m not party too! Why didn’t you tell me before Holburn is on the ship?”
Apri remains composed. Her facial expression doesn’t reveal anything as she speaks. “While you were imbibing in sustenance I used the time to scan the private manifest, which was not originally available when we first scanned at the cyber café. It was only then I found Holburn’s booking.”
I look at her. She cracks a pleasing smile, and says. “Do you know who that is at the far end of the bar? The man looking over here.”
I hadn’t noticed, so looked. Sure enough Apri is right, the guy is staring right at us and doesn’t bother to turn away when I eye him.
“Nope, no idea!”
“He is Orlan. A PV-two android. Bodyguard to Navan Seecresh, President of Seecresh Bio-tech. If he is aboard so is Seecresh.”
“So!”
“Holburn holds stock with Bio-tech, and Seecresh runs a smuggling operation out of Japora.”
“And you think Holburn’s using Seecresh to do what?”
“I did not say Holburn is using Seecresh for anything, I am simply stating the facts.”
“Well, he’s sure got his beads on us. Let’s get out’a here.”
Entertainment suite, Valcuri.
Spending the rest of the day secluded in our cabin, at nineteen-thirty hours we venture down to the ship’s entertainments lounge where Apri will wait and keep a watchful eye on Holburn. I know Holburn has a fixation for alien harmonics, and as luck would have it, one such alien group is entertaining tonight, virtually guaranteeing Holburn’s attendance.
While Apri keeps her vigil, I causally stroll the decks for forty-five minute, seeing if there’s anyone else aboard who I might recognise before moving up to the promenade deck. Standing next to the guardrail, I look out over the ocean. Septima’s twin moons cast shards of yellow light that ripple across the calm surface. The silhouette of a giant Nash is outlined as it flies in front of one of the low moons; its huge wings flap in slow motion as if performing a mesmerising dance.
“Evening,” a fellow passenger says in passing. I turn from the picturesque vista and nod politely.
“Lovely evening,” the guy says.
“Sure is.” I answer and continue on my way.
Something nags at my mind about the guy as I walk along, something about the way his large brimmed hat conceals his facial features. I can’t quite put my finger on why, or even if I’d seen him before. I glance back and catch a glimpse of the guy's long grey coattail as it billows when he rounds a corner and vanishes. I quickly replay the brief encounter in my mind, still can’t put my finger on anything. I shrug and continue towards Fizz and Hacker’s cabin.
Alien harmonies echo up from the entertainments lounge as I stand outside Fizz and Hacker’s cabin door. I feel the thrum of the ship’s engines in my feet as the deck plates vibrate slightly. I reach out and try the door; it opens. Strange!
The cabin is in total darkness. I glance from side to side making sure the coast is clear and step in.
“Lights!”
Nothing happens, so I reiterate the command, still nothing. Seeking out the manual override, I fumble across it and thump the plunger hard. The lights spring on. Instantly I know I am in trouble, across the room, lying face down on the deck is Fizz’s blood soaked body. Crossing to him I kneel and feel for a pulse, even though I already know he’s a goner.
An excruciating pain floods my head, my eyes water and roll, a feeling of nausea wells in my stomach. The light flickers and darkness once again envelops me. I vaguely remember reaching out to stop myself as I hit the deck.
I awake still with a gut feeling on nausea. I’m lying, looking up at a bright white light with still impaired vision. A low droning noise rings in my ears, a sound I recognise as the sound of an energy field. How long I’d been out I didn’t know. My head pounds as if a troop of Sumo wrestlers, wearing diving boots, are tap-dancing in my brain. I lift my head up slowly and swing my feet to the ground.
“Ah, about time!”
Glancing in the direction of the voice, I squint; looking hard through the shimmering force field that secures me inside what I now know is a cell. Shaking my head, Damn Sumo’s, to try and clear my vision, I focus on the individual who is sitting on the other side of the field. Slowly my vision clears to show who is before me. A male human, approximately the same age but of a more slender build than myself. My vision becomes clearer; dark, deep, penetrating green eyes stare at me. He sports a small white goatee beard. My vision gains perspective, and now I know who he is. Federal Inspector Serice, shit! That’s all I need!
“Inspector Serice. You wouldn’t happen to have any painkillers on you would ya?”
“Diamond.” Serice greets in an official tone.
He stands and moves closer to the energy field. All I can think of now is. Where’s Apri? And I wish these damn Sumo’s would cut it out!
“Got yourself into a bit of a bind this time, Diamond! Suspicion of murder no less!”
Murder? This is bullshit!
“Murder? I ain’t murdered anyone!”
Serice shrugs and smiles, a grin that tells me he has me bang to rights, or so he thinks.
“Unfortunately, Diamond, that’s not what the evidence points too. Oh, I suppose you could call it removal of the garbage, and Fizz won’t be missed by anyone other than Hacker maybe. But I doubt the Justice Department will see it that way! However, if you decide to cooperate I could make things easier for you.”
I knew that grin would cost me! As far as I can recollect, Sherice is a decent enough Fed. Straight as they come so I’m informed, but that grin gave me cause for concern. I wonder what he’s after.
“Cooperate? How?”
“Come on, Diamond. You expect me to believe you don’t know what this is all about!”
Feeling has now returned to my legs, I get up and close on the energy field. Sherice backs off slightly.
“Serice, I don’t have the foggiest what you’re talking about! Now, about those painkillers?”
He looks round, checking the cell level entrance, presumably to make sure we are out of earshot of anyone who might listen. As far as I can tell, all the other cells are empty.
“The Arkas pendant, I want it!” Serice mumbles.
I give him a puzzled look. So all this is about a piece of jewellery.
“What makes ya think I know anything about the Arkas?”
“Don’t presume to treat me like you would one of you lowlife acquaintances, Diamond. Fizz was carrying the pendant for Cavas Sontarus, and Holburn hired you to get it for him. Fizz is now a corpse, and Hacker’s disappeared. So that leaves you, my friend!”
“And why would the great, upstanding, Inspector Serice want this pendant?”
I might as well ask, I just might learn a thing or two. Besides, I really want to know what makes an ancient mythical jewel so valuable it brings so many crims together.
Serice glares at me. His penetrating eyes cut through the energy barrier as if wanting to burn the truth from me. He clasps his hands in front of his drab brown tunic.
“You’ve heard the stories!”
“All I’ve heard is rumours, legends, and myths. I sure could do with a little pain relief.” I reply.
“Then you’ve either been misled, which I doubt, or are more stupid that I first thought! The Arkas pendant is the key to…”
Damn it!
Before Serice can enlighten me further, two more Feds walk in. Serice clams up instantly. He converses with the other two in muted tones, and it becomes obvious Serice is somewhat annoyed. The drone of the energy field subsides.
“Okay, Mister Diamond, you’re free to go,” advises one of the other Feds.
I step through the downed energy field. Serice fixes me with his damn green eyes, and halts me by extending his arm across my torso.
“Luckily for you someone has put up bail. It appears you have friends in high places. So for now you go free, but don’t get any big ideas of leaving the island. I haven’t done with you yet!” he warns.
“No painkillers then! Who put it up?” I inquire, but knowing it will be Apri.
“I did!” Apri’s voice echoes from the doorway.
I nod; glad she’d found a way of getting me out. The damn Sumo’s in my brain continue their relentless dance routine.
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