Wyatt Earp , Batik Magal, Delegor
Rivka pushed away from the conference table to get a better look at the three holographic projections of the star systems that included the planets of the ambassadors suspected of supporting the blood trade. Close together in the far reaches of the galaxy, otherwise unremarkable.
“A trillion klickas,” Chaz said. “I’m sorry, Magistrate. Without some other way to look, we’ve exhausted the money trail. We don’t like admitting defeat, but we cannot find any payments that suggest illegal blood trade.”
Rivka looked at Lauton. “Nothing, Magistrate. Their records are rather significant, but their slush fund stashes are enormous. If this were Zaxxon Major, such cash reserves would not be possible because of the opportunity for money laundering. Even the smaller accounts we have seen have massive numbers of transactions. At some point, those funds get funneled somewhere. With the credits that Blingall Corporation moves in private transactions, I doubt we could see them even if we had access to their personal checkbooks.”
“Because they are buried.”
“Probably a cash transaction,” Lauton clarified. “No digital record whatsoever.”
“But then the recipient would have to launder those funds to return them to the system where they could be used.” Rivka leaned her elbows on the table to look at the stars rotating above the table.
Chaz displayed his apologetic face. “There is no starting point for finding where those funds reenter the system. Money launderers generally use places that look legitimate. Do you know how many cash businesses are on Delegor? One hundred and four thousand. It could be any one of them. I’m sorry, but this is a dead end.”
“I don’t like dead ends.”
“What if a suspect tried to escape down one?”
“I like those dead ends, not this kind,” Rivka admitted. “This is disheartening. You guys always come in with good news. Now, two out of my three investigative legs are denied to me.”
The group looked at her, unclear what she meant. “The digital back door and the mental back door.” She held her finger in the air and dabbed it at them—the touch .
“Shortcuts, Magistrate,” Sahved offered. “This goes back to base investigations. When one way doesn’t work, you try another. Maybe we put a tail on the ambassador? If we know he juices, then we know he will again. He will show us those who deliver the blood. And then we tail them until they take us to who is in charge. Once we know who that is, we’ll find the money. The universe is a big place to look if there is no name. It is the biggest of places.”
Rivka stood, and with her hands clasped behind her back, she started to pace. It didn’t take long because the right answer had already been presented.
“If we put a tail on him, we cannot be found out. I’ll report to the High Chancellor just in case, and eventually, we may have to confront the ambassador directly.”
“What would be the trigger for that eventuality?” Chaz asked.
“We catch him elbow-deep in getting pumped full of stolen blood.” Rivka stopped pacing.
Sahved raised his hand. “How can we be sure the blood is stolen?”
“You ask the hardest questions. We seize it, too. Research time. Is getting a blood transfusion a legal medical procedure?”
Chaz stared at the wall for a few seconds before reciting, “It is legal, but it is considered to be distasteful.”
“I don’t care about distasteful, disreputable, or downright unsavory. I have no jurisdiction over people using their money for self-aggrandizement. That’s their business, as unsavory as it may be. The real crime is the suppliers. Let’s not lose sight of that. Watching the ambassador is only to lead us to them. We may not even have to involve the ambassador. If we know the transfusion takes place, then we can start backtracking whoever administered it, where they got it from, until we get to Private Elbinar.”
Tight mouths and focused eyes showed Rivka the commitment of Sahved, Chaz, Lindy, Lauton, and Groenwyn. Tyler watched from the corridor. Since he couldn’t run a one-day clinic because of the lack of need on Delegor, he occupied himself with the case.
“The signs that a blood transfusion is going to take place are not distinct. Every hospital and clinic is equipped with a hook from which to hang the bag, a drip chamber, a back-check valve, a slider clamp or roller clamp, maybe both, tubing, a cannula, and of course, the intravenous catheter. Very common. The blood will need to be transported cold, but that’s regular blood. Nano-infused blood is probably more temperature-tolerant. I’ve not heard of any tests about it. Medical supplies, medical facilities. Rich people have unfettered access to all, probably including their own in-house doctor. I’m sorry. That’s not very helpful.”
“Just like the payments. We know what they look like, but we don’t know where to find them. But when we see them, we’ll know what they are. If we see a cold box arrive at the ambassador’s home, we’ll have to look closer,” Rivka remarked. “That’s good for now, people. I don’t want us to wallow in what we don’t know but figure out a way to find that first lead.”
Chaz bobbed his head in a parody of a vigorous nod. “Don’t we already have that? The ambassador. It may not be optimal, but it is something. There is plenty of work to do before we consider ourselves at a dead end.”
“Good job, people. The future is bright. Clevarious, have Clodagh call her husband and get an update. Hell, all of you call your husbands. And then let me know what I don’t know but should.”
“We’re not married,” Chaz interrupted.
“Nor us,” Lindy added. “Well, we are, but you know…”
Rivka looked from face to face. “Go make your calls, and if you want technicalities, I’ll give you technicalities.”
“You sound like my dad,” Lindy grumbled. “You wanna cry, I’ll give you something to cry about.”
“Call Red and tell him we ran into a group of Belzonians and decided to attend their orgy, just to see what it was about.”
“I think we’d hear his head explode all the way on this side of the galaxy,” Lindy replied. “Let me try it my way first if you don’t mind, Magistrate.”
Rivka laughed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t use the Belzonians as a source of humor. I’d like to think they poke fun at us for our ways. I’m good with that. I’d be more than happy to have Cory and Monsoon join the team on Wyatt Earp . Does anyone know where they are?”
“Back on Belzimus, I heard, but I think that was at Marcie’s urging because she didn’t want to lose the sergeant major,” Lindy offered. “It’s almost like the Bad Company was meant to lead the land army. They are working so well as a strike force, thanks to the addition of the Harborians, that they are putting themselves out of work.”
“We can always use their talents,” Rivka replied. “But at some point, we’ll run out of goodwill, and we can’t pay for what they bring.”
“Three hundred million credits buys a lot of goodwill, Magistrate,” Lindy replied.
“That’s true, but just like my gift, just like having access to the Singularity for deep research into the digital universe, they are shortcuts around the system rather than supporting the system as it is.”
Lindy didn’t have an answer for that. Neither did Chaz nor the others. They filed out, all except Groenwyn.
“What’s bothering you, Magistrate? Can’t be the miracle worker on this one by closing the case quickly?”
“I feel for Private Elbinar. By not being able to close it quickly, I leave him out there.”
Groenwyn hugged Rivka, who stood there with her arms slack. “You’re not leaving him out there. He has his own fight while you have yours, which is to make sure this doesn’t happen to anyone else. You’re using all the options available to you, and none of them are panning out. So, you’ll find alternates and more options. Tracking the ambassador, if that’s what it takes.” Groenwyn finished her speech, but she wasn’t finished. “What if he finds out?”
“It could be an intergalactic incident. The Federation spying on planetary officials.” Rivka stepped away from Groenwyn. She didn’t feel like she needed a hug. She wanted to hit something and intended to take herself to the ship’s gym to pound the punching bag.
“Is he respected and well-liked?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“His peers know if he’s dirty. It may be the catalyst for others to clean up their act. If he’s not dirty, then we would have some problems. I don’t want you to have problems, Magistrate, because I like our lives on Wyatt Earp, and I like working for you. I don’t want that to change.”
“I’m still thinking about your question. We don’t get to use him being dirty as a justification to go outside the law. I have granted a warrant for watching him but not to search his house. We’ll have to see signs of illegal activity before we can go in.” Rivka mumbled to herself as she moved past Groenwyn into the corridor to wander aimlessly. Groenwyn followed and stayed where she could see the Magistrate to let her know someone was there for her while she worked through the legal arguments to justify her approach to the case.
Onyx Station, the Seedy Bar Level
Let round two commence. No boners, Cole. Get that shit under control, Red quipped.
One untimely appearance of Herbie One-Eye and it becomes the main topic of conversation forever. Gimme some love, man! Cole stopped talking using his internal comm chip while he focused on getting himself where he needed to go. Once he was on track, he continued, Heading into the Scrappy Pilot for booze and fun on the Magistrate’s dime .
We’re on our way. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes, Joseph reported. He and Petricia didn’t want to show up too close to Cole to avoid the appearance that they were together.
Red and Dennicron were on the next level up. She sat on a bench, staring without blinking as she actively engaged in accessing the security vids from the lowest level. She wanted to see the entrance to the bar and the elevators.
Nathan had given them access to the station’s systems, but the security team rotated the access codes on their feeds twice a day to keep hackers like Dennicron from doing exactly what she was going to do. Access didn’t mean she had all the access. She needed permission from the security team, which they would not request because on Station 11, the security team had been in on the kidnapping.
They had no intention of alerting a possible conspirator.
The amount of money in the blood trade had to be staggering for the number of people involved and the extent of the risk. Who kidnapped warriors from a wide-open space?
Those with enough money to make the risk worthwhile.
Cole strolled into the establishment, bopping his head and looking casual while heading for the bar, making sure at least one seat was open next to him.
“I’ll take a pitcher of a dark ale, please.”
He felt a hand on his arm and looked down into huge cat eyes, sparkling from the overheads. Small furry ears peeked out from beneath honey-gold hair.
“Do you want beer or girly crap?” the bartender shot back.
Cole looked between the bartender and the languid female. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”
“Milk,” she called.
Cole choked back a snort. “Make that two.” Cole switched to his internal comm chip. The Furlorian is here. All hands on deck.
We’re not in position, Joseph replied.
I do not yet have an active feed , Dennicron added.
“Fuck it,” Red said and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to her feet. She was far heavier than she looked, heavier even than one of the enhanced, with denser bone and muscle mass. She came to her feet and joined Red as he hammered the button and willed the elevator to arrive.
“I will continue my attempts to get into the system,” she told him.
Red grunted. Cole, update.
Getting our milk. Stand by.
“Milk?” Red wondered.
Dennicron didn’t bother answering. The doors opened, and they jumped in for a quick trip to the lowest level. They moved away from the elevator to take positions where they could see the entrance to the Scrappy Pilot. Red relaxed, looking for another Furlorian in the area.
“Stop trying to get access to the cameras. We don’t need that anymore. Check the transient quarter records for any recent rentals made by a Furlorian. I suspect a male,” Red said.
“Good point,” Dennicron agreed and shifted her search into a system where she had complete access. She reviewed the vids and creds of each rental made in the past day. “One Furlorian rented a room in the Heavenly Quasar, Deck Thirty-One, Room Eight Fourteen.”
Joseph, Deck Thirty-One, Room Eight Fourteen. Dennicron, is there a room for rent near there? Red asked.
Room Eight Seventeen is available across the hall. I will reserve it for immediate occupancy by Joseph and Petricia. A moment later, she continued, You will be able to access it with a handprint.
We are on our way, Joseph replied. We shall be within spitting distance, Private Cole, never fear.
Cole looked into the big eyes. “What brings you here? Are you a pilot?”
“I am,” she replied with a soft purr in her voice. “Only skimmers, but there’s nothing like flying. Do you fly?”
“Only a mechanized combat suit. I’m a warrior with the Bad Company,” he said proudly. She purred without saying another word. She took a sip of her milk, leaving a small white mustache on her upper lip. Cole took a big drink, almost gagging. He remembered the last time he had milk; he didn’t like it, and his mother had told him he didn’t have to drink it. He put the glass down and smiled at his new friend.
Her tongue darted out of her mouth repeatedly until the milk was gone. She ran her hand down his arm. “You work out,” she said.
“I have to. It’s part of the job, but even if it wasn’t, I still would. I like being in shape.”
“What’s it like flying a mech?”
Cole smiled. “You asked the last question. My turn. What’s it like flying a skimmer?”
She laughed and cocked her head. “It’s like an extension of my body.” She stepped back to show off her body. “The freedom of flight. Nothing but me and the sky.”
“What is it about the freedom that you find so exhilarating?”
“Becoming one with nature, trusting the wind.” She held up one short but slim finger to forestall another question. “What do you find exhilarating about flying your mech?” She took a slow sip, lapping at it.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away. A voice sounded in his head. Cole, update.
I see how she could easily lure a man away. She is mesmerizing.
She wants your blood. You are nothing but a paycheck to her. Pull yourself together, Red replied.
Roger, Cole affirmed.
He took a small drink of milk, then decided it was too repulsive to continue drinking. He put the glass down and slid it away from him. It had been warm to start with, and time had not made it better.
“The mech is pure power. Even you could drive one. It translates your movements into an unstoppable force. The jets can send one into the sky or slow a descent. I’ve jumped from moving spaceships and landed, ready for battle. I’ve also jetted myself into a tree. They are not foolproof.”
“You’d tell me that? Are you trying to impress me with how strong you are while still being vulnerable?”
Cole smiled at her. Behind those eyes was a person who’d kidnapped his friend and was trying to do the same thing to him. Her cuteness faded. Red was right. Focus on what she was, not who.
“It was not the highlight of my career. My suit was damaged, and the jets didn’t fire on a long drop out of a tree. My unit had been ambushed, and I was providing backup,” he lied. “I hit the ground, fell over, and that’s when the jets fired. They wouldn’t shut off, either. The good news is that a mech bouncing around the trees made everyone run for their lives rather than get run over. We won the day.”
“And your friends won’t let you live it down,” she noted.
“My friends…” He looked into her eyes and didn’t say more.
She finished her milk with a quick chug. “Would you care for a more private conversation?”
“How can I say no to that? You are stunning in all ways.”
She took his hand, and they headed for the door.
On our way out.
Cole obediently followed. Once in the corridor, she turned toward the elevators, which were not far down. He spotted Red and Dennicron nuzzling each other’s necks. Red made eye contact. His face showed nothing but business. Cole pulled her close before she caught Red watching them.
Red and Dennicron broke their clasp and moved in front of Cole and the Furlorian. They laughed and held hands, punching the button for the elevator. They nodded at Cole and the slight female.
When the elevator opened, Red and Dennicron went in first and punched the button for level twenty-five. “What deck?” Red asked.
“Thirty-one, please.” She smiled up at the big man, and her ears fluttered lightly behind her hair.
“Yes, ma’am.” He punched the button.
“Ooh. Another military man. Do you know my friend?” She ran a hand down Cole’s chest.
Red laughed. “Me? Military! Ha. That’s a good one. I’ve been kicked out of all the best joints. Don’t you have to be willing to follow the rules to be in the military? No, thanks.”
She nodded while admiring his heavy muscles. He was much bigger than Cole. Red felt a shiver run up his spine. These people were heartless. Nothing more than slavers.
The elevator reached thirty-one, and Cole and the Furlorian exited. They didn’t look back as the doors closed. Red mashed the button for Level Thirty.
Joseph and Petricia, they are on their way, Red reported.
The elevator stopped. Red and Dennicron ran for the steps.
On the thirty-first level, Cole tried to act casual as they entered the corridor leading to the rented rooms. The lights flickered. Joseph. It’s going down.
Cole waited until the second Furlorian appeared from Room Eight Fourteen.
“Fuck you!” Cole shouted. He reached for the female, but she rocketed off the wall on one side to launch herself over his head. As she passed, she scratched his neck. The sting told Cole it was more than just a claw.
Help , he called over his comm chip before the second Furlorian braced a stun gun against him and unleashed a charge that sent his body into convulsions and his mind into dreamland. The Furlorian dropped Cole over his shoulder, and with the strength of a cat, he jogged down the corridor toward the far exit, where two other individuals waited with hovergurneys carrying two, a man and a woman.
Cole! Red increased his speed. Joseph!
The female threw a smoke bomb behind her and trailed small booby traps to blast the feet of anyone who followed them down the corridor.
When Red saw the smoke, he charged.
“NO!” Dennicron screamed. Despite the adrenaline surge, he had the wherewithal to listen. “Explosives on the floor. You’d have gotten your foot blown off.”
“Lock down the station. No one leaves,” Red ordered.
Dennicron stared at the wall as she transmitted the orders. Within seconds, Nathan called.
What’s going on? he asked.
They got Cole, but they also got Joseph and Petricia. If you have a bomb disposal unit, they’re needed on Deck Thirty-One, the corridor with the eight-hundred numbered rooms. Fuck, Nathan! They got three of our people!
We’ll find them, Red, Nathan promised.