The shuttle’s whistling roar could be heard over the cacophonous babble that rose and fell in Inga’s. The place was packed, the crowd drinking, discussing the reason they’d been called. Looking forward to the break from monotony.
From her position on the stairs, Trish instinctively glanced in the direction of the landing field despite being fully underground in Inga’s subterranean tavern.
Odd. Trish didn’t remember any scheduled arrival. But then the Supervisor didn’t always communicate her comings and goings with either the triumvirate or Port Authority security. Besides, though the Turalon cargo had been deeded to the Donovanians, Supervisor Aguila was still the legal title holder to the Freelander’s cargo—though the precise legal limits of her control remained a bit fuzzy. The Supervisor often sent the shuttle, unannounced, to pick up the odd piece of equipment.
Trish stared around the room, reading the excitement. Shig had been brilliant when it came to packing the place. The charges against Howe, Valerie, and Kung were unusual enough to generate interest. That it was coupled with a contract challenge against Dan Wirth—of all people—added to the allure. And finally, that it dealt with Turalon deserters served as the topping to a special cake.
Shig had not only made sure that the place was filled to capacity, but the high profile undercut Wirth’s incentive to have his three indentured workers eliminated. At least for the short term. Doing so now would inflame public opinion to the point it might destroy his businesses, his name, and maybe even his life.
“How are we doing, Two Spot? Anyone from that shuttle need my assistance?”
“Doing well, Trish. No request from the shuttle. Supervisor Aguila just asked for permission to land and enter the compound. Other than that, the sentries are all at their posts. Bitching about missing the great event, but on deck.”
“Roger that. Let me know if Aguila needs anything or if something crops up.”
“’Firmative.”
She turned her attention back to the room, watching it as she did from a couple of steps up on the stairway. The tavern was awash with people, some dressed in worn orange, faded yellow, or tan coveralls. Others evoked Donovanian chic in their tailored chamois-hide shirts, pants, and smocks. Most wore hats of one sort or another, and a veritable host of quetzal-hide capes, boots, vests, and wide-brimmed hats glinted colorfully in the light.
Her old friend Stepan Allenovich came clomping down the stairs in his quetzal-hide boots. Big and bluff, Step was trained as an exozoologist, and his work with Donovan’s wildlife had laid the foundation for studies that would take centuries to complete. That didn’t mean that hunting, tracking, drinking, frolicking with females, the occasional brawl, and working as the number three in command of Port Authority security weren’t as much a part of his life. Since the arrival of Turalon—and especially Dan Wirth—Trish wasn’t sure exactly which side Step came down on anymore.
“How’s it look?” he asked, taking a position beside her.
“Two thirds of the town’s here.” She pointed to the two tables on the left side filled with Wirth’s people. Allison’s gleaming blonde hair couldn’t be missed where she sat slightly removed from the rest of the prostitutes. “There’s Maniken, Wong, and Schemenski with the rest of Wirth’s enforcers. We going to have any trouble from them if this goes south?”
Step grinned at the underlying tension in her voice. “Nope. Not here. Dan’s nobody’s fool. Whatever happens, he’s not going to take any chances on the crowd. He saw what happened when the Supervisor almost lost it all in a riot that time.”
“So, what’s he going to do if he loses?” She shot him a probing glance.
“I know what you think. I can see it in your eyes. Take a deep breath and relax. I’m not on his payroll. Don’t mean I don’t enjoy his wares, but Mama Allenovich didn’t raise just anybody’s fool. So as I see it, here’s the play: If he loses this thing, if Shig, Yvette, and Tal declare the indenture null and void, you get those three Turalon deserters to the aircar port, posthaste, ricky tick. Then you use that new night gear and fly them out to whichever holding or research base you want, and drop them.
“Be back by dawn, and don’t you tell me, Inga, Two Spot, or anybody but Tal where you dumped them.”
“Got it.” She shook her head. “Should have let Tal shoot him that day.”
Step shot her a startled glance. “Tal was going to shoot Wirth?”
She nodded, letting her gaze drift over the crowd.
“Trish, I’ll forget I ever heard that. And more to the point, you forget it too. And don’t you tell another soul.” Step pointed with a gnarly finger. “If Wirth ever hears that? Well, his relationship with Talina is strained enough.”
“She thinks Wirth killed Cap.”
“Wouldn’t put it past him. But in all the time I’ve spent in his place, I’ve never heard so much as a hint that he did.”
“You think that means anything?”
“Nope.”
At that moment, Shig, Yvette, and Tal emerged from the door leading to Inga’s storage room just off the north end of the bar. With them came Howe, Ashanti, and Valerie dressed in their filthy overalls, their faces and hands washed and oddly clean in comparison.
Shig, Yvette, and Tal walked behind the bar to where three stools had been placed in Inga’s normal domain. The other three took chairs placed just out from the crowd and before the bar.
Shig’s voice, augmented by speaker, called, “Quiet, please, I’m calling this proceeding to be in session.”
“Point of order,” Wirth called. “I ask that Talina Perez, an aggrieved party, be dismissed from this board. She cannot be relied upon to make judgment without prejudice. I call for a vote from the people.”
Yvette called, “Those in favor, please rise.”
Trish smothered a smile as only Wirth’s people and a smattering of additional bodies, all Skulls, stood. The vote was woefully short from a majority.
“The point is defeated. Are there any additional points of order?” Yvette was quick in adding, “Hearing none, let us proceed.”
“In the matter of the charges of trespass, destruction of private property, breaking and entering,” Shig announced, “we have the three accused here before us. On the recommendation of the investigating officer, Trish Monagan, we have dropped the charge of theft of a weapon. Will the accused stand?”
The three rose.
“How do you plead?”
“Guilty.” The answer was given in unison.
“So noted.” Shig announced. He turned to glance past Yvette at Talina. “Officer Perez, as the aggrieved party, do you wish to make a statement?”
Talina’s voice carried across the room. “As the aggrieved party, I request no more than a verbal apology from the convicted, provided they pay court costs.”
“Is a verbal apology and court costs satisfactory to the board?” Shig asked, and received two ayes from Yvette and Talina. He added, “Do I hear an apology from the convicted?”
“We’re sorry,” the thin Ashanti Kung said, her voice remarkably strong for such a stick figure of a woman. “Officer Perez, we ask that you forgive us. We couldn’t think of anyone else we could turn to. Our only chance to make it alive to this inquest was to put ourselves under your protection. That you, Officer Monagan, and the board have enabled us to speak, and openly air our abject slavery and exploitation at Dan Wirth’s—”
“Objection!” Wirth cried, leaping to his feet. “These people are prejudicing the next case on the docket. An apology? Well, yes.”
He turned to the crowd, adding, “Here’s how you do an apology.” Bowing low, he extended a hand, calling, “Yes, I’m sorry. Grievously and verily, my soul writhes with regret. I deeply abhor the vile actions that my wasted and tortured person inflicted upon such a noble and virtuous officer as Talina Perez. May my shame be manifest for decades. May ashes and urine be heaped upon my head. Let my name never more be uttered upon the ruby lips of children, virgins, and the holy.”
He straightened from the bow. “Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is an apology.”
The crowd broke into guffaws, whistles, and stomping feet.
At the bar, Talina rose to her feet, slamming her pistol onto the chabacho wood with a bang. “Shut it off! Now! I’ll have order, or by damn I’m going to crack heads!”
At the snap in her voice, the room went quiet but for the occasional snicker.
Shig sighed. “Objection is sustained, though barely. Officer Perez, are you satisfied with the apology?”
“I am. It is my recommendation that this case be closed pending payment of court costs.”
“Agreed,” Yvette chimed in.
Where they stood on the rear stairs, Step leaned close and asked Trish in a low voice. “Court costs?”
“We’re way ahead of you, Step. Afterward, Talina is going to lead them back into Inga’s office to ‘pay court costs.’ She’ll take them right out the back, and get them out of sight until we can get them someplace safe.”
Step grinned in response.
“So be it,” Shig announced. He took a breath, moving on to the next complaint. “Petre Howe, Rita Valerie, and Ashanti Kung, who are seated before us, have entered into a contract of indenture with Dan Wirth. They request that their contracts, which are here, before me, be declared null and void by this board.”
Trish heard someone coming down the steps and turned. She was shocked to recognize Supervisor Aguila and Lieutenant Spiro. The Supervisor wore a natty black suit that emphasized her slim and fit body. The wealth of her long black hair was pinned at the nape of the neck.
Lieutenant Spiro, in a dress uniform, sidearm on her belt, rifle over her shoulder, walked a step behind, her hard eyes taking in the room. She barely granted Trish a nod as the two of them passed. At the foot of the stairs, they slipped back into the shadows.
“Wonder what she’s doing here?” Step muttered from the side of his mouth.
“Two Spots?” Trish accessed her com.
“Roger.”
“Supervisor Aguila just walked in with Spiro. Let Tal, Shig, and Yvette know.”
“’Firmative.” Patching into the net, Two Spots said, “Trish wants you to know that Aguila’s here with Lieutenant Spiro.”
Trish watched the subtle change at the bar as Talina and Yvette stiffened at sight of the woman. Shig paused for a second, a weary smile bending his lips. Trish had seen that look before when some sudden new inevitability had presented itself.
Nevertheless, he said, “The board would hear the petition to declare these contracts null and void.”
“Objection,” Wirth cried, rising. “The very notion that this board can declare a private contract null and void is outrageous. Or is the triumvirate seizing the power to paw into all of our private doings?”
He turned to the crowd. “Think about it. Is this the way you want to go? Back in Solar System, under The Corporation’s thumb, government controls all business. Here, business is ours. Our contracts are between people. Agreements we broker with each other. Do we want government inserting its nose into our private, sometimes intimate affairs? I ask, what damned business is it of theirs?”
Whistles, stamps, and shouts erupted.
“Quiet!” Talina bellowed.
Again the room stilled.
Shig, shoulders slumped, pressed the fingertips of both hands together, almost as if in an act of prayer. “This board agrees with Mr. Wirth in absolute principle. We did not agree to hear this complaint without long, and I must say, somewhat acerbic debate. What is at issue here is not the inviolability of the contract, but whether the terms specified therein are being met and complied with in the spirit under which the contract was negotiated. The complainants in this case are arguing malfeasance, abuse, and nonperformance on Mr. Wirth’s part. Based on those claims, we feel the board, and the entire community, has a right to hear this case.
“Therefore, the objection is overruled,” Shig replied. “Besides, anyone may voice a petition. Whether it will be acted upon remains to be seen.”
“The complainants may proceed,” Yvette called.
The redhead, Rita Valerie, stood, artfully facing the crowd instead of the board. “You all remember what it was like in those last days before Turalon spaced? You’ve heard the stories about Freelander. You can see her when she passes overhead in orbit up in the night sky.”
Valerie raised her hands, her filthy coveralls exposed for all to see. “We weren’t going to space back on that bucket of death. Not after what happened to its crew getting here. Freelander’s a death ship. And the odds for Turalon making it home are just as grim. So, I ask: How many of you, whose contracts are up, volunteered to space back to Solar System on Turalon? It’s a free ride home to friends and family, to a life of luxury. You fulfilled your contracts, had a fat bonus waiting back at Transluna. How many of you, like us, opted for Donovan? For a new life here?”
A few calls of “Aye” and “Here, here” could be heard interspersed around the room.
Valerie paused, as if in thought. “So, can you blame us for going to Dan Wirth? The marines were rounding up anyone who even looked like they might not want to go back. What do you do when you’re being hunted? You go to what you think is the safest place. Take whatever terms you can for that one shot at survival.”
She gestured to her overalls. “We don’t mind work. Don’t mind hard work. What we got was slavery. At Tosi Damitiri’s mine we are locked in a shed every night. We have a bucket to piss and shit in. Our beds are thin mattresses on a wooden floor.
“Our workday starts at dawn. We cook the rations. Whatever Damitiri offers. Usually whatever was cheap at market, and sometimes what he happens to shoot. Then we go down in the hole, drilling, placing shots, blasting, mucking, sorting, processing. We get a third of a ration at midday and ten minutes to eat it, urinate, and get a drink from the water pail. Then it’s back into the hole until Damitiri tells us to quit. We refused once. Asked to have a day off. He locked us in the tunnel for two days without food or water.”
She cocked her head, expression wan. “There were five us in the beginning. Chan Tzu couldn’t take it. He ran. Took off at first light for the bush. Damitiri says a bem got him less than half a mile from the claim. He brought the bones back for us to see.”
Around the room, heads were nodding.
“A chunk of roof fall crushed Ngomo Suma’s leg. Damitiri loaded him into the aircar, locked us in the shed, and flew to town. We spent two days in there, suffering in darkness without food or water.
“The morning Damitiri let us out, he was so hungover, he could barely walk. And today we have learned that our friend, Ngomo, never made it to the hospital.” She paused for effect. “Wonder where he ended up? Perhaps tossed over the side? Dropped in thick bush somewhere? It’s easy to make people disappear on Donovan.”
Valerie tilted her head, hair falling back to expose her gaunt face. “We don’t mind honest labor. We signed the contracts, figuring that we would be treated fairly, offered decent and reasonable work. Even work in the mine. But with clean beds, three solid meals a day, with occasional time off to relax and recoup. Back on Earth, slaves were worked to death.”
“Objection!” Dan Wirth cried.
“Overruled, Mr. Wirth. You’ll get your time to respond,” Shig replied. “Go on, Ms. Valerie.”
“Did I say slaves? Isn’t that claim a bit extreme?” Valerie raised her fists, as if they were shackled. “But what else do you call it? Don’t all of you here, working on contract, have your evenings and two days a week off? Don’t you live in comfortable, if modest, housing with running water? Take showers? How many of you work fourteen hours a day, seven days a week?”
She took a deep breath. “How many of you are locked in a shed at night? Caged like an animal? Hmm? Anyone? How many of you have to escape, hide yourselves in Talina Perez’s house, just to live long enough to testify at a hearing like this?”
She paused. “Is what I’m describing indentured labor? Or is it slavery?”
Valerie turned to face the panel. “That is why we ask this board to declare our contracts null and void. We signed a contract to work for Dan Wirth. That he turned us into slaves is proof of his noncompliance. Which, when you get down to it, is pretty damn simple.”
Around the room, angry voices began to stir. Someone shouted, “Null and void!” Another cried, “We don’t need no slavery like that here.”
“Hey! Bottle it!” Talina cried. “Quiet!”
People reluctantly complied, but a lot of heads were turned Dan Wirth’s way as he rose, spreading his arms. “Can I respond?”
Shig told him, “The board will hear the defendant.”
Wirth, perhaps not surprisingly, climbed up on the table where everyone could see him, arms still spread. “You all know me. I’m a businessman. I run a lot of businesses. The Jewel, a couple of workshops, an oil well, more than a dozen mines and claims, and I have my civic duties, serving on the town council with our esteemed board here.” He gestured at the bar.
“That said, I am aghast.” He turned, facing the claimants. “I didn’t know! And I am ever so sorry. No, more than that. Appalled and mortified. And yes, this is my fault. My fault for being so busy, overwhelmed, and buried in so many concerns I never took the time to ride out to Tosi’s to see what the conditions really were. And I will never, ever, allow that to happen again.”
He turned back to the audience. “I am filing charges, here and now, against Tosi Damitiri for gross malfeasance. What he did to these people was criminal! For that, the man needs to be hounded, caught, tried, and punished. Yes, these decent people came to me in a time of need. And yes, I went out of my way to offer them what I considered help.”
He paused, voice pleading, “And I am so sorry.”
He turned, arms out to the three. “If you will let me, can I make amends? Can I redress the wrongs done to you in my name?” A pause. “Can I make this right!”
His passionate words echoed down from the dome.
The three glared at him, intransigent, unforgiving. Valerie said, “You can. Void the contracts.”
“Not only will I void them, but let me offer each of you a substantial bonus along with my apology.”
The three were looking nervously at each other.
“Hard for them to show up with their throats slit anytime soon,” Step whispered.
“I think we still better get them the hell out of here. Wirth played this better than I thought he would.”
Step crossed his arms. “Nope. It was Rita Valerie who made the difference.”
Shig asked, “To the complainants: Do you wish to withdraw your challenge?”
“As soon as Wirth tears up the contracts,” Howe called.
Shig had that thoughtful, musing look that Trish associated with his waiting for the second shoe to drop.
Wirth theatrically leaped off the table, grabbed the contracts down from the bar, and with a flourish, ripped them in two to the stomping and hooting of the crowd.
“Look at the complainants. Laughing, hugging each other. They are dead,” Trish murmured. “All three of them. Don’t they know that?”
“Maybe,” Step replied laconically. “Who knows? Wirth might have another angle he’s figuring to play with them.”
By that time, Talina was pounding on the bar for order.
As soon as the din dropped, Shig asked, “Is there any other business to come before this board?” His eyes were on the shadows where Kalico Aguila stepped forward.
“There is,” Aguila called, striding down the center aisle, Lieutenant Spiro at her heel. “I have a complaint.”
“Come forward, identify yourself, and be heard,” Yvette said warily.
The crowd was suddenly electric, heads turning, people realizing for the first time that it was Supervisor Aguila. Whispers and hisses could be heard, people shifting.
“I am Corporate Supervisor Kalico Aguila. I represent The Corporation’s interests on Donovan. I, too, have a complaint. A violation of contract.”
“The board recognizes the Supervisor,” Shig said, the weary smile on his lips. “Please elaborate.”
Aguila stood before them, hip cocked, almost insolent. “You used the term ‘inviolate’ when you described this board’s reverence for the contract, did you not?”
“I did,” Shig replied. “The contract is the basic and fundamental instrument for the conduct of our business relationships, as you well know from your own negotiations with us, Supervisor.”
Kalico made an airy gesture. “If I might ask, had the inestimable Mr. Wirth not torn up the contracts, how would this board have ruled?”
Yvette said, “Given that the case—”
“Oh, come on!” Aguila cried, turning to face the crowd. “I’d like to know, would all of you? Can you tell me that you’re not curious yourselves?”
Calls of assent came from the audience as Aguila wheeled back on her heel, asking, “It’s not that difficult. You know the merits of the case, what would you have ruled?”
Trish watched Shig, Yvette, and Talina glance back and forth among themselves.
Shig said, “We would have ruled in favor of the defendant, with the stipulation that he immediately provide relief, redress for abuse, and establish proper and humane conditions whereby the complainants could fulfill the terms of their agreement.”
“What?” Valerie cried, leaping to her feet.
Talina banged her pistol. “Out of order! Be seated.”
Shig raised a restraining hand while the rest of the room quieted. “Ms. Valerie, you people willingly signed the contract. And you were right to bring your plight to the board. Just because Mr. Wirth was either negligent, or even purposefully abusive, doesn’t merit nullification of the contract you signed.”
“Why?” Valerie and the rest cried in unison.
“Because in the contract that you signed there is no clause for termination based upon nonperformance on Mr. Wirth’s part.” Shig again raised his hand. “That doesn’t mean that workers don’t have rights to fair, reasonable, and equitable treatment.”
Shig raised his voice. “Which, in the future, this board will see that you adhere to with your other indentures, Mr. Wirth. Are we understood?”
At his table, Wirth stood, spreading his arms wide in that humble gesture. “This was an isolated incident, Shig.”
“Yeah, in a quetzal’s ass,” Trish murmured out the side of her mouth.
“Returning to my complaint,” Aguila stepped forward, reaching a hand back to Spiro who slapped a sheaf of papers into it. These she placed on the bar before Shig.
As Shig took them, Aguila said, “Given that this board, and thereby, Port Authority, recognizes the primacy of the contract, I have come to ask that the contracts I have just proffered be honored by this board.”
“What specifically do these refer to?” Talina asked where she leaned forward on her elbows, hard gaze flicking from the Supervisor to Spiro.
Aguila turned, indicating Ashanti, Valerie, and Howe. “I come before this board to claim these deserters. I have just provided you the terms of their employment by The Corporation. Terms in which they relinquish certain rights, including the right to terminate their employment. Cutting to the chase—as the old saying goes—these three, and any other Turalon deserters, are mine.”
A ripple went through the crowd.
“Oh shit,” Trish muttered.
“Now,” Aguila continued, “does this board truly recognize a legally binding contract? Or was that all hot air, while beneath lies a certain amount of hypocrisy?”
Shig handed the contracts back to Aguila. “The board does indeed recognize the Supervisor’s point. Your dealings with any Turalon crewmembers is not any concern of ours.”
“Shig!” Talina cried.
Yvette shot Talina a hard look. “It is not our concern.”
Across the room, Trish could see Talina boiling.
“Lieutenant Spiro,” Aguila ordered. “You will place the deserters under arrest and escort them back to the shuttle.”
Spiro turned, a twisted grin on her lips, her hand on her pistol, and gestured that Valerie, Howe, and Kung stand. Expressions shocked they started for the door.
“So,” Step asked. “Does this mean they’re not paying court costs?”