MASEEF WAS STILL CRYING THOUGH not a single tear ever touched his face. Lolita Or-Ghazeem had finally been found. Frozen. Her body held a laser in one hand and ice pick in the other.
They interred her aboard the Fi. The curiosity and grief of the single group of science groupies that had managed to keep up with them wouldn’t be so high as to make them board. Maseef’s other sisters didn’t know yet. He’d sent a whale to find them. This was not news to be told over the radio.
They returned her to the capital city, a quiet ship. Ele catalogued her wounds. The torn breach suit was discarded; water from the thawed chunk of ice was preserved for use in a fountain to be erected in her honor.
Shig Empa asked the uncomfortable question: “When will Milo be informed?”
Carel, Smoove and Ele studied one another.
The captain answered for the group.
“When we see him again. Maseef?”
Or-Ghazeem, the entire voyage home, had done nothing but ask questions. His eyes were visibly hollow; his soul dry ice.
“She should stay aboard the Fi,” said Smoove. “Fewer curiosity seekers.”
“Yes,” he said softly.
Shig spoke just as softly, turning more toward the captain to deflect his words.
“After forensics we’ll have her brought on board,” he said.
“Remove nothing,” Maseef said softly, the lines around his eyes showing. “Drain nothing. If the dirt under her nails is not intact I will raze this city.”
“We’ll need samples, Maseef,” said Shig.
“Get them as though she is alive.”
“She fought. I want to know who,” said Shig. His resolve brought Maseef’s eyes forward.
“Vengeance?” said Maseef.
“I prefer Milo’s word: payback.”
“Payback’s a bitch,” said Smoove.
“A lot of that going around,” said Ele.
“In this regard, payback’s a bitch who works for me. Did I use that correctly?” the slight Atlantidean asked.
“It’s what they call poetry, Shig,” said Smoove. He left Shig to his arrangements. Ele, Fiona and Maseef followed. The Semper Fi waited for them in the harbor to ready itself as Lolita Or-Ghazeem’s protected place of rest.