Galactic Law
Author: James S. Aaron; J. N. Chaney
Date: 2020-01-09 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction; SF; courtroom; Military; Fiction
Description: Lethal force is authorized. In the wild space of the Deadlands, Taurus Station is where miners and tourists come to play, and the ravager gangs follow close behind. Out here, far from the civilized world, the Law has a name. Gage Walker is the son of hard-nosed asteroid miners. Brash, rough, and crude, he's one of the few deputies working the station. Still a rookie, Walker is tasked with the security of a mining magnate's daughter, an easy job that quickly takes a turn for the worst. The ravaged gangs want her, and it falls to Walker to find out why. In a chase across Taurus Station, Deputy W
Publisher: Independently published

Copyrighted Material

Galactic Law Copyright © 2020 by Variant Publications

Book design and layout copyright © 2020 by JN Chaney

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from JN Chaney.

www.jnchaney.com

https://www.jamesaaron.net

1st Edition

Galactic Law

Book 1 in the Galactic Law Series

J.N. Chaney

James S. Aaron

Book Description

Galactic Law

Galactic Law #1

Lethal force is authorized.

In the wild space of the Deadlands, Taurus Station is where miners and tourists come to play, and the ravager gangs follow close behind. Out here, far from the civilized world, the Law has a name.

Gage Walker is the son of hard-nosed asteroid miners. Brash, rough, and crude, he's one of the few deputies working the station.

Still a rookie, Walker is tasked with the security of a mining magnate's daughter, an easy job that quickly takes a turn for the worst.

The ravager gangs want her, and it falls to Walker to find out why.

In a chase across Taurus Station, Deputy Walker must prove he's fit to wear the badge and issue his own form of justice...one body at a time.

Experience this exciting beginning to a brand new series set in the Renegade Star universe. If you're a fan of Judge Dredd, Renegade Star, or Borderlands, you'll love this epic, scifi thriller.

Books in the Renegade Star Universe

Renegade Star Series:

Renegade Star

Renegade Atlas

Renegade Moon

Renegade Lost

Renegade Fleet

Renegade Earth

Renegade Dawn

Renegade Children

Renegade Union

Renegade Empire

Renegade Descent

Renegade Rising

Renegade Alliance

Renegade Evolution (Coming soon!)

Standalones:

Nameless

The Constable

The Constable Returns

The Warrior Queen

The Orion Colony Series with Jonathan Yanez:

Orion Colony

Orion Uncharted

Orion Awakened

Orion Protected

The Last Reaper Series with Scott Moon:

The Last Reaper

Fear the Reaper

Blade of the Reaper

Wings of the Reaper

Flight of the Reaper

Wrath of the Reaper

Will of the Reaper

Descent of the Reaper

Hunt of the Reaper (Coming Soon!)

The Fifth Column Series with Molly Lerma:

The Fifth Column

The Solaras Initiative

The Forlorn Hope

Final Battlefield (Coming soon!)

Resonant Son Series with Christopher Hopper:

Resonant Son

Resonant Abyss

The Galactic Law Series with James S. Aaron:

Galactic Law

Galactic Judge (Coming soon!)

Contents

Join the Conversation

Connect with J.N. Chaney

Connect with James S. Aaron

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Epilogue

Renegade Star Universe

Join the Conversation

Connect with J.N. Chaney

Connect with James S. Aaron

About The Authors

Join the conversation and get updates on new and upcoming releases in the Facebook group called “JN Chaney’s Renegade Readers.” This is a hotspot where readers come together and share their lives and interests, discuss the series, and speak directly to J.N. Chaney and his co-authors.

Join the Facebook Group

He also post updates, official art, and other awesome stuff on his website and you can also follow him on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.

For email updates about new releases, as well as exclusive promotions, visit the link and enter your email address.

Click Here

Enjoying the series? Help others discover the Galactic Law series by leaving a review on Amazon.

Connect with James S. Aaron

I send out updates mostly weekly. I share science, space, futurism and science fiction-related things I’ve found, lots of SF art, deals on great reading, movies, etc, basically anything I might be tempted to pick up myself. I also share updates on my work.

To stay connected, head to the link below and sign up for the newsletter.

https://www.jamesaaron.net/list/

1

“Chance of success, forty percent,” LE-DB said.

I stared at the gap between buildings as my perp hit the ground on the other side, stumbled, and then began to sprint. If I didn’t go now, I was going to lose him.

“Success rates don’t matter if you don’t even try,” I told her. “Continuing pursuit.”

My current objective was running down a criminal escaping through the many back alleyways of Taurus station.

“Are you sure? You’re heavier in duty armor.”

“I know, Ellie. Don’t distract me.”

Ellie, or LE-DB, for Law Enforcement Database, was my onboard dispatcher, a mix of partner, legal assistant, and heads-up display. Each patrol deputy had a version of the AI. Most just called her Dispatch or some other nickname, but I’d settled on Ellie. She wasn’t my trainer—that was Sergeant Jack Keldon, whom I’d left on the street below. I could talk to Ellie even when I’d lost comms with other units or headquarters. That wasn’t always a good thing.

“Trainee Walker, be aware that if you miss this jump, there is a high probability that you will fail training for the day, damage department equipment, or sustain mortal injury. Perhaps all three.”

“Thanks for keeping our priorities straight.”

Of course she had to mention my trainee status, reminding me I’m not an actual Sheriff’s Deputy.

“My priority protocols are clear.”

“You sure about that? That guy bombed a party barge. I’m catching him or you can scrape me off the street.”

“Suit yourself, Trainee Walker. I will provide a record of your decision when you are promoted to civilian in a body bag.”

Was that a joke? Ellie wasn’t capable of jokes, which meant she had probably copied the line from my trainer, Sergeant Keldon. It sounded like him.

My perp was looking over his shoulder, probably waiting to see if I was going to try the jump or not. I backed up a couple meters, checked that my pistol was secure as I eyed the edge of the roof, then sprinted for the gap.

* * *

An hour earlier…

Foot patrol in Taurus Station’s retail district always had me yawning after thirty minutes. The station’s party sections might have been going strong, but this area was closed for the night. Cleaning drones trundled along the wide corridors, collecting discarded drink containers, party fliers, beaded necklaces, and abandoned bits of clothing.

“You’re falling asleep, Trainee Walker,” Ellie warned. “You’ll get a low rating. Another low rating and you’ll fail out of training.”

The AI seemed to enjoy hounding me in an ever-haughty tone from her speaker in my helmet. There was no getting away from her, and she was right. I picked up my step.

“Checking windows and rattling locks,” my trainer, Sergeant Jack Keldon, said with a satisfied smile beneath his brush-like brown moustache. “Security ain’t sexy, but it’s important. You understand me?” He tapped the door to a clothing shop and updated the log on its security panel.

“I understand,” I said. “And I sure do enjoy it.”

“Sarcasm detected,” Ellie warned.

Keldon lifted his helmet’s face shield then hocked and spit in the street. He slammed the shield back down and adjusted his pants. “When we drop these stats on the Sheriff’s desk tomorrow, you’ll like it. He’s up for reelection. Community policing. And it’s good for your review.”

“Beats writing reports, anyway,” I said.

“The only thing better would be out talking to a citizen. That time’s never wasted.”

I rolled my eyes, which Keldon couldn’t see through my face shield. That didn’t stop Ellie from chiding me with an electric prick at the back of my neck.

I wanted to kick down doors and slam drug dealers on the pavement, not do my best as a glorified security guard off the party strip.

Deputy Keldon had been on the force at Taurus for fifteen years. He was halfway to his pension and had long since given up any desire to run toward hot calls. Having settled into training duty for the regular hours, he seemed to genuinely enjoy his long speeches about ethics, working hard, community policing, and weapons maintenance. I certainly valued all those things, but walking down empty streets wasn’t keeping me bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

I joined the Taurus Station Sheriff’s Deputies because I wanted to make a difference in the ongoing ravager wars that wracked every station on the edge of the Deadlands, from the mining rigs to the residential orbitals and industrial sites, most connected by only a single slip tunnel. I’d grown up on a mining rig and understood firsthand what it was like to tremble in fear as a ravager gang blasted their way into a neighboring ship because someone hadn’t paid protection fees.

“Speaking of time talking to citizens,” Keldon said. “Come on.” He led the way across the promenade to one of the few shops that appeared to still be open, although it was hard to tell if any lights were on inside from all the items jammed in the display windows.

The sign above the window read “Trinidad’s Trinkets.”

Keldon pulled the door open and motioned for me to step inside. I found myself in a small shop lined with shelves full of souvenirs. The various flowers, spaceships, and replicas of Taurus Station looked pretty good until you got up close.

“Are these made from trash?” I asked Keldon. “This dancer has a candy wrapper for a skirt.”

“Trash or treasure,” came a gruff voice from the other side of the shop. “You decide for yourself, Deputy.”

“He’s my trainee,” Keldon corrected. “Thought I would bring him by to meet you, Ollie. How are you doing?”

I pushed up my face shield as Keldon walked over to give the short man a hearty handshake.

“Well, enough,” the shopkeeper said. “My endeavors keep me busy. You still serving justice to the depraved and ill-mannered?”

“I’m wearing the uniform, aren’t I?” Keldon said.

“That’s no guarantee,” Ollie said. “Who’s your trainee?”

“Gage Walker.” I shook the shopkeeper’s hand. From the glue stains on his fingers, it looked like the trinkets were his handiwork.

“Oliver Trinidad, good to meet you. So, you’re a deputy in training, huh? Where’d you leave that could possibly be worse than working for this guy?”

“Mining rig,” I said.

He raised his eyebrows. “Call me Ollie, then. You paid your dues. If this peace officer stuff doesn’t work out, you come see me.”

Keldon laughed.

“You taking on apprentices for the arts and craft business?” I asked.

Ollie glanced at Keldon and something unsaid moved between them. Keldon gave a slight nod.

“Come on, Gage. How about some coffee?”

“I’ll never say no to that.”

Ollie rose to push open the door marked “Staff” behind his counter. I followed Keldon through to where a two-man security cage stood ajar, allowing access to a larger room with a work bench that held several projects in various stages of assembly. The real show was all the cargo crates and cylinders packed into the space beyond. Some of the containers looked military grade, tagged with Union transit marks, while others carried the logos of high-end brands that could have been real or knock-off, I didn’t know.

Ollie walked to the coffee maker on the edge of his workbench and poured cups for all of us.

“How’s our Sheriff doing?” he asked Keldon.

“Worried about reelection, as always. He’s got us out on foot patrols to remind everyone we exist. Everybody forgets about the Sheriff until the shit hits the fan.”

“Until the Union takes over, anyway,” Ollie said.

“The day that happens is the day I’m getting off station,” Keldon said. “Screw the Union.”

Ollie placed his hand over his heart in mock concern. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly, Sergeant. Did the Union kill your puppy?”

“I don’t need the Union encroaching even further into the Deadlands. They can’t take care of what they already own. Besides, Taurus is a frontier station. Always has been, always should be.”

“There’s a lot of money here. More every day.” Ollie turned his attention to me. “How long have you been on station?”

“Almost a year now,” I said.

“What do you think about Taurus?”

“It’s all right,” I said. “Once you look past the ravagers, smugglers, and awful neon everywhere.”

“Smugglers aren’t so bad,” Ollie said with a half grin.

I was trying to figure out why Keldon had made a point of stopping here, since they weren’t having any sort of personal conversation.

“How do you two know each other?” I asked.

That seemed to be the wrong question. Keldon drained his coffee cup and set it on the workbench beside a half-finished toy rocket.

“Don’t ask the question if you don’t want the answer,” he said. “Ollie and me go way back. It’s good you met him. If you ever need help outside the Sheriff’s Office, you find him.”

Ollie tilted his head back, looking surprised. “That’s high praise from the likes of you, Jack Keldon. Don’t forget my help has a price.”

“Everything on Taurus has a price,” the sergeant said with a shrug. “The only free thing on this station is a bullet in your ass.”

Ollie laughed. “That’s good. I’m using that.”

“Let’s go, Gage,” Keldon said.

I set my empty coffee cup beside Keldon’s and noticed a stack of data tablets at the back of the bench. The topmost tablet had what looked like an ad for a job on its face, with a credit amount that meant it couldn’t be legal.

“Take care of yourselves,” Ollie said. “Good meeting you, Gage. And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to stop by. Trinidad’s Trinkets usually has what you’re looking for.”

The shopkeeper pulled out his stool and waved us out of the backroom before picking up his soldering iron. We walked through the shop and back out into the promenade, where I slid my face shield down to check my HUD for any changes in the area.

Nope, still nothing.

We walked on, traveling another few blocks and checking more doors. It appeared Ollie’s place was the only open store in the sector. Groups of drunk tourists stumbled by, too cheap to buy a transport to their next casino.

“Alert,” Ellie informed. “Party barge inbound.”

“Yay,” I answered.

Immediately after the alert, I picked up the sounds of shouting and laughter. Keldon motioned for us to step out of the promenade as a party barge rounded the corner a hundred meters away. The street filled with flashing lights, screeching laughter, and music I felt through my duty armor.

I rested my hand on my pistol. At this time in the early morning, the drone-operated party barge would have maybe twenty holdouts stumbling around on its platform.

“Don’t hold that wall up,” Keldon said. “We want them to see us.”

“Be visible, be safe, be effective,” Ellie added.

“Bee-ite me,” I answered.

“Should I share that with Sergeant Keldon?”

“Not unless you want to get recycled along with me.”

We’d learned in the Academy that party barges were high crime areas. I understood perfectly well that it never hurt to be out where someone in distress could see us. And if we did see something bad going down, we had the authority to stop and board. Most deputies didn’t, so they were able to avoid the vomit and extra hours of report writing that any barge check would create. Sergeant Keldon didn’t seem to mind that stuff. He was one of the good guys, and I respected him for it.

This barge was fuller than I expected. Partiers hung off the sides, waving cups and bottles, while a live DJ manipulated a column of light on a stage.

“Must be a private party,” Keldon said.

I stretched my neck for a second to look, when the vehicle exploded.

Thanks to the duty armor, I was more or less protected when the force threw me back. My head cracked against the wall behind me, my arms going wide, and I slid in the street like I’d been thrown by drone.

“Get up!” Keldon shouted. “You all right?”

I rolled to my hands and knees, nodding. I stood as Keldon barked updates to dispatch.

“I’m all right,” I said slowly, still disoriented.

“Then get over there. I’m sending the location data to EMS.”

The corridor was covered in dust from crushed walls. I blinked as my helmet HUD updated with thermal imagery. People hung suspended above the barge’s platform by its safety bars. The DJ was frozen with his arms splayed out, limp as a rag.

The blast must have come from the head of the barge, where the deck was crushed and twisted.

More thermal markers filled my HUD as everyone was accounted for, and then an aberrant thermal return from above me drew my attention. I squinted upward to find someone kneeling on the edge of a nearby roof.

My HUD outlined the observer, trying to grab an ID. There were no returns except for the high probability of a detonation device in their gloved right hand.

“Medical services inbound,” Ellie reported.

With medics on their way, we needed to secure the scene. This was mainly to ensure the safety of the victims and anyone nearby, but also to establish the crime scene. With a crime, you had a perp.

“I’ve got a suspect,” I told Keldon.

The channel filled with static and his response came back garbled.

Through the dust, I could see the figure step away from the edge of the roof.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I told the runner.

“You have not been authorized pursuit, Trainee Walker,” Ellie told me.

“I got a response from Keldon.”

“His response was broken and ambiguous.”

“Then I’ll exercise my bias for action,” I said, using one of our directives from the Academy.

I sprinted across the street, sending my law enforcement override to the locked door in the process. I slammed into the entryway just as it opened and found myself in a dark liquor store, its walls covered in fancy bottles. Running through into the back storeroom, I scanned for stairs as my HUD updated the building schematic. Glowing lines showed me there was a maintenance exit on the roof. My perp was going to either come down that stairwell, or I needed to get up there before they jumped to another building.

After running up three flights of stairs, I exploded from the maintenance door in time to watch my man sail across the alley.

“Damn it!” I muttered.

2

I hit the other roof to the sound of Keldon yelling in my ear. “Walker, what are you doing? I’ve got EMS here. Are you ready for the lead in?”

I checked my armor as I ran for the hatch where my perp had disappeared. Everything was good so far.

“I’ve got a suspect. In pursuit.”

“Pursuit?” Keldon asked.

“I told you he couldn’t hear you before,” Ellie said over our private connection.

“What he heard was up for debate.”

The channel fuzzed into static again as I dropped through the hatch into a narrow maintenance corridor and spotted my suspect running about twenty meters ahead. Drawing my pistol, I sprinted after them, boots echoing on the metal decking. Ahead of me, the perp reached a corner and disappeared.

I stopped when I reached the corner, then I put a shoulder against the wall and made the turn.

Instead of my perp, I found a green-haired man in overalls ten meters down the corridor.

My heart slammed in my chest. I was lucky I didn’t shoot the guy.

“Holy shit!” the tech shouted, raising his hands. “Are you chasing the other guy?”

“Be advised,” Ellie said. “This is not a lawful target.”

I realized he was still in my line of fire and adjusted the weapon slightly. “Which way did the other guy go?”

He pointed down the corridor. “Kept running that way.”

“What did they look like?”

“In a uniform, like you.”

“A uniform? Who?”

The tech shook his head. “I don’t know anything about that stuff, man. I’m a fiber maintainer.” He lifted his toolbox.

“Stay here,” I told him. “I’ll be back.”

My comms link threw static again as I ran down the corridor. Keldon was certainly trying to get a hold of me but I had come this far and at least wanted a tracking marker on the suspect. I needed to get close enough that Ellie could grab facial recognition. If that didn’t work, she could record their gait, movement characteristics, even clothes to search for matches in the general surveillance database. All of that depended on me hauling ass.

I burst through another door and found myself at the edge of a catwalk across a loading area. Twenty meters below, drones with flashing lights backed up to docks to load shipping crates into transports. I stepped onto the catwalk just as new movement below caught my eye. A human shape was dodging the systematic loaders.

“There he is.”

“Would you like me to attempt a marker?” Ellie asked. “You have a thirty-four percent chance of success.”

“Don’t tell me the odds. Do it!”

I focused through my HUD to place the security tracker. The runner’s outline shimmered in the display as Ellie’s optics struggled to grab a unique shape that Surveillance Section could later search.

Just as the subject disappeared behind a drone, the HUD returned a movement lock. So we didn’t have an ID, but we could at least run pattern matching on the population database. It was useful, but no guarantee of a suspect.

Also no guarantee of me not failing training.

“Sergeant Keldon is calling for you,” Ellie said.

“Why can’t I hear him?”

“This place is disrupting your voice comms. You’ll need to go back the way you came.”

I stared at the spot where my perp had been running just seconds before. Again, I wondered how he’d managed that drop. It was too far.

I was too late.

I turned and left the catwalk. As I passed through the doorway, my comms spit static and Keldon’s voice barked in my helmet, and I flinched in spite of myself.

“Walker! Where the hell are you? EMS is here.”

“Do you want me to share your location?” Ellie asked. “He’s going to use his override if I don’t.”

“I’m answering,” I said. “Give me a second.” To the sergeant, I said, “Moving.”

“What’s your location?”

The comms went static again as I reentered the maintenance corridor. I figured I would at least get witness info from the tech for my report. That wouldn’t completely exonerate me with Keldon, but it would at least show I hadn’t run off for no reason.

I had my HUD recording, of course, but decisions made on recordings alone relied on officer discretion, and as a trainee, I didn’t have any.

As I reached the corridor where I’d left the tech, I was only half surprised that he was nowhere to be found.

“What the hell? Are there are any other exits, Ellie?”

“Several. What was your probable cause to hold that citizen?”

Rather than answer, I ground my teeth. She was right. If someone didn’t want to be a witness, I couldn’t force them.

“Do we have any surveillance in the building?” I asked.

“No,” Ellie said.

I might have been projecting, but it seemed to me that the dispatcher AI’s tone had a smug quality. Moving on, I checked the corridor for any sign of an open maintenance panel or tunnel I hadn’t noticed before and found only the bit of comms fiber the green-haired tech had held up. A knot tightened in my stomach as I descended through the new building, adrenaline fading. I emerged from the alley next to the liquor store, facing the smashed party barge.

Medical drones hovered over people sitting on the sidewalk. The DJ was pacing in front of the liquor store. After picking up a piece of metal from the barge, he moved to smash the store’s glass door.

I caught his arm. “What are you doing?”

“I need a drink, man. This is messed up.”

“Go sit down over there.” I pointed at the group with the medics. “You probably have a concussion. Alcohol is the last thing you need.”

“I don’t care if it’s the last thing, I still want it!”

I puffed up a little, facing him with my hand on my pistol. Honestly, I needed the distraction. He relented, dropping his scrap weapon.

I sent the DJ back to the medical line and told Ellie to record the scene. As I walked around the front of the barge, my comms blasted with Keldon’s voice, “Deputy Walker, why aren’t you following your safety protocol? Where the hell are you?”

“I’m right here, sergeant.”

Keldon popped up from where he had been kneeling beside a drunk woman with a head injury. He slid up his helmet’s visor, revealing a hard face with contradicting laugh wrinkles at the eyes. “There you are. Where have you been, Walker?”

I debated playing stupid, then decided the best course of action was to explain my decisions as I’d made them. That was the truth, after all.

“I thought I had a suspect,” I said. “I attempted to inform you but our comms were shaky, so I made the decision to pursue on foot. I had a witness to the suspect, but I lost both of them.”

Resting a hand on the butt of his pistol, Keldon squinted as he studied me. “You hurt?”

“No.”

I shifted, feeling a bit of relief as Keldon’s voice softened. He was in trainer mode, not destroy-in-place mode. “You suffering traumatic stress?”

“I’m pissed I lost my suspect.”

Keldon raised a brow. “How do you know they were a suspect?”

“They were present at the scene. I got a partial motion lock.”

“Does that make them a criminal?”

“They ran.”

“There was an explosion. Wouldn’t you run? Tell me again how you determined a crime took place.”

I waved at the chaos around us. “What else could this have been? It looks like there was an improvised explosive device on board.”

Keldon stared at me for a second, then shifted his gaze to the drunk woman he’d been helping. The medic’s sedatives were working a little too well and a line of drool ran down her chin.

I heard a wheezing sound that made me take a step toward her, thinking she was choking. Then I realized it was Keldon. And he was laughing.

I took a step back. “What’s funny, sergeant?”

“Improvised explosive device?” He waved an armored hand at the busted barge. “This was a recoil overload in the main engine. These things have ancient capacitors in them that get overloaded and gunky from the all the spilled booze and they eventually explode. It’s inevitable. You know how many times I’ve seen this?”

When I didn’t answer, he finished. “Hundreds of times. It’s a civil case if anything.”

I shook my head. “This wasn’t just a motor overload. I’ve seen those before on mining drones. This was a shaped explosion. There was a concussive wave designed to sweep riders off the platform.”

Keldon wiped an eye. “Look, I appreciate your desire to find a bad guy here, but this is open and shut. I’ve seen a thousand of these.”

I didn’t point out that a second ago it had been hundreds of times.

“It’s a civil matter and these fine folks here can take it up with the party company, if it’s still in business by the time they sober up. I wish it was different, Walker, but the best thing we can do for these people is to get them medical care and a ride back to wherever they’re staying.”

“I’m recording the scene,” I said.

“Good. You’re also going to check up on the medic drones and take any witness statements for the inevitable records request we’re going to get when everyone sues. You understand me, Deputy Trainee?”

Knowing it would land me in even more trouble, I bit back what I wanted to say. I’d already been counseled on my “lack of impulse control.” And even though I hadn’t crossed the line into insubordination with Keldon yet, I felt the day coming.

“Fine,” I said.

“Go do your job.” Keldon knelt to help the drunk woman again.

I walked away, frustrated with myself and the situation.

“Trainee Walker, has my previous guidance on your pursuit been confirmed by Sergeant Keldon?” Ellie asked.

“Are you trying to say I told you so?”

“Sarcasm detected. I am adjusting my tactical approach to your training shortfalls.”

“You I can tell to shut up,” I bit out.

“Please remember our tactical transcripts are automatically added to duty records for review by Internal Affairs. I merely seek to provide you with information to make the most informed decisions during emergent situations”

“You’re really trying to help save my ass, is that what you’re saying?”

“Your success is in the best interest of the department and the people of Taurus Station. Despite your recorded shortcomings, you represent a significant investment.”

I shook my head. “Now I’m just a tool. I’ll try to live up to your high expectations.” I placed an evidence lock on the recording of my failed pursuit and sent the files to data storage. I had to list the pursuit as a civil case, separate of the barge explosion, but that still allowed me to make a report. The evidence could always transition to criminal later. Maybe Keldon was right. Or maybe he wasn’t.

I grew up on the Carthage Mining Rig in the Rivas Asteroids and knew my way around heavy equipment control systems. Even though I hadn’t realized it right away, I knew this explosion wasn’t an accident.

From early on, my dream was to become a detective. That meant proving myself on the street first. It meant proving myself to Keldon and every supervisor down the line. Hell, Keldon was a nice guy until he met defiance. I knew I was making things hard on myself, but I couldn’t help going after what I knew was true.

I stretched my neck as I walked among the wounded partygoers, sharing my contact info and the incident number for the report I would no doubt be writing later. A woman in a tiny black dress tried to hug me and ended up sobbing into my shoulder. I froze for a second, then gingerly patted her back, before I glanced up to find Keldon giving me a thumbs up.

“You’ve got a trusting face, kid,” Keldon said after I’d passed the woman to a medic. “Use it to your advantage and move these folks along. We’ve still got reports to write.”

We were releasing the barge to a wrecking company when Ellie’s voice barked in my ear: “Return to Station. The Sheriff wants you in his office.”

I could see from Keldon’s face he’d gotten the same call.

“Shit,” the sergeant said.

3

Crossing Taurus Station, it was easy to understand why the orbital looked like a giant ball of string from the outside. Inter-wrapped corridors had been built over an open core across the years, expanding whenever a new casino or resort bulged outward. The Sheriff’s Office was in the governmental stack, twenty levels of an administration near the center of the station. The offices contained the jail, motor pool, admin offices, and training areas. In the heart of everything was Sheriff Nagel’s office, on the edge of a bullpen where his deputies worked, so he could walk out and stand with his arms crossed, surveying his domain.

“What do you think he wants?” I asked for the third time as we arrived in the motor pool. I parked the cruiser in our assigned space and set the maintenance protocol, following my trainee checklist. With the cruiser in maintenance and my helmet off, I no longer had to endure Ellie’s suggestions about my behavior—just Keldon’s smart-ass remarks.

“Asking in a different tone of voice isn’t going to change my answer,” Keldon said. “We’ll find out when we get there.”

I moved to open my hatch and he raised a hand.

“Hold up, there. It’s time for debrief.”

“Debrief? Ellie told us to report to the Sheriff.”

“And when the Sheriff asks me if I’ve been performing my duties as your trainer, I need to be able to look him in the eye and say yes. You don’t half-ass training. And if he dumps you from the department, at least you will be able to say I took training you seriously.”

“Sure.” I settled back in my seat and sent my shift’s recordings to the dash holo. A timeline showed red bars where the algorithm found activity. My evidence locks from the building chase stood out in yellow.

Keldon raised an eyebrow as he studied the recording. “So you set evidence, huh? Explain your thought process.”

“Well,” I said. Did he think I was going to change my story?

“Wait,” Keldon said. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Back up to the start of our shift and walk me through what you expected to happen.”

I gave Keldon an exasperated glance and stared at the forward screen. As I had been doing every day of my training, I recapped the mission brief, steps I took to ensure I was ready for duty, and travel to the patrol zone.

For today’s shift, I noted, “I looked forward to an exciting eight hours of ensuring doors remained locked and windows closed.”

“Tell me again the mission of the Taurus Station Sheriff’s Office?” Keldon said.

I recited, “To protect the lives, property, and welfare of Taurus Station.”

“Interesting. That probably involves physical security, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” I said.

“Go on, then.”

I described our patrols through three other retail areas before we arrived at the sector where the party barge had exploded. At this point, my narrative reached the evidence lock on the recording, so Keldon stopped me and activated the footage.

He pointed at the cloud of smoke from the explosion. “We’re going to fast forward through the next fifteen minutes, and you stop the recording any time you can show me you stopped to use your brain.”

Stewing, I could only shake my head and listen as Keldon pointed out all the places I demonstrated poor impulse control, disregard for officer safety, and failure to provide for public care.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Keldon said. “So far you’ve made a damn fine recording of how to screw everything up for the trainees who come after you.”

When the recording reached my short interview with the green-haired tech, Keldon paused to study the man. He moved back and forth through the recording, then expanded a profile view of the fiber tech.

“This guy’s a meshie.”

I peered at the face in the recording, still angry with myself for not getting the tech’s ID. A meshie was a hacker known for stealing data off the comms mesh that connected Taurus with its neighbors.

“You surprised the hell out of him. Look how his eyes are dilated. That or he’s on something. They take mental stims when they’re working.” Keldon pointed at the man’s temple. “You can see his implant right there.”

Keldon let the rest of the recording play out. He stared at the motion lock on my original suspect for a few seconds but wasn’t nearly as interested as he had been in the meshie. When finished, he returned to the fiber tech again and dropped an evidence lock on the video, then he sent it to Investigations.

“Huh,” Keldon said. “You still messed up, but at least you did it in an interesting way. How do you feel about your day of training?”

I groaned inwardly. Journal time.

Completing a journal at the end of each shift was a new development in the department’s training program. Most of the seasoned deputies thought the process was stupid and would produce soft recruits focused on their feelings. But Keldon seemed endlessly amused by the process. He listened intently as I shared my feelings of disappointment and self-directed anger from acting without thinking. I was especially frustrated that I hadn’t recognized the priority to care for the wounded.

I finished my bit of emotional garbage and waited for further abuse from the sergeant. Keldon surprised me by slapping my shoulder as he opened his hatch. “Cheer up, kid. Your meeting with the Sheriff can only get worse.”

“You enjoy making me feel like crap, don’t you?”

“Hey,” Keldon said. “I don’t make you feel anything. That’s all you.”

Maybe he wanted me to smile but I could only glower as we climbed out of the cruiser and left it in its slip, drones approaching from either side to start scheduled maintenance.

How was I going to defend myself to the sheriff? Why else had we been called?

I followed Keldon to the main lift, where I let the back of my head hit the wall then closed my eyes. All I could see was the perp running away and that last unfocused glance from the shipping area.

I’m done. This was my shot and now I’m done.

My other mistakes had been mostly procedural. This was the first time I’d made a bad decision and now it was going to be the end of the line. I couldn’t help imagining what it was going to be like to return to the mining rig and ask my old foreman for my job back.

If only I hadn’t told him to go fuck himself.

That had been one of the best days of my life, actually. I’d just received the news about being accepted to the academy. I was sitting in front of my work locker, staring at my worn coveralls, not quite believing that I would never have to climb down in a hole again. There was no way I was going back, even though mining was all I knew.

When we reached the admin level, we went through the secondary security check and then walked directly back to the Sheriff’s office. Out in the bullpen, heads swiveled to follow our progress, knowing only the truly screwed left the lift to walk directly to the back of the room. Most of them would have heard the command from Dispatch, anyway. They probably all knew I’d screwed up as well. I caught sly smiles on a few faces.

The short corridor to Sheriff Nagel’s office was called the Hall of Heroes, and it was lined with images of deputies who had paid the ultimate sacrifice throughout the department’s three-hundred-year history.

Technically, the Sheriff’s Office had existed longer than Taurus Station, established as a small security outpost to provide protection for mining operations in the area. When the station came into being, tourism and recreation forced the organization to evolve without ever losing its mandate for justice. As Taurus drew the inevitable organized crime, gang violence, and other criminal enterprises that came with money, the duties of Sheriff’s deputies broadened to cover everything from basic beat security to VIP protection, anti-piracy space operations, and heavy gang warfare response. Local government often criticized the Sheriff for running a small army and space fleet. They were probably right.

As I’d learned in the academy, the one core role the Sheriff’s Office and its deputies never relinquished to the Union was their ultimate duty to dispense justice when necessary. Tools like LE-DB helped ensure the law was followed and enforced, working within any local judiciary, but when there was no court, a deputy was sworn to ensure justice was served. That was the law of the Deadlands, and the local Sheriff represented the law. The Hall of Heroes represented that duty.

No one could enter or leave the Sheriff’s office without knowing their screw ups were weak in relation to those who had come before. The images rotated, so each trip focused on a new fallen deputy in constant memorial. As we walked past, I noticed the face of a deputy who died defending the citizens of Taurus Station during the Sixth Street Mining Riots. The smiling official image didn’t look much different than mine. I gulped and kept walking. At least I was alive. For now.

Keldon paused in front of the Sheriff’s closed door, helmet under his elbow, and knocked firmly three times. A deep voice from inside said, “Enter.”

I faced the entrance as the door slid open.

Sheriff Nagel sat behind his broad metal desk with his arms crossed and one finger resting on his massive chin. If he’d been standing, he would have towered above us at over two meters. I was tall by most measures, but the Sheriff had been augmented during his time in the Union, making him taller and stronger than most mere mortals around him. Why he’d left the service was a mystery no one in the department or local media had solved. Despite his augments and shady background, he’d been reelected seven times and showed no sign of losing the public faith. Nagel was an enforcer who kept the peace, kept the streets clean, and knew how to talk to politicians. While he ran his patrol deputies and jail with an iron fist, he was as quick with praise as with vitriol, and he rarely hung onto anger.

“Sheriff,” Keldon said. He nodded at me and we both went to parade rest in front of the metal desk. “You called for us?”

I took a deep breath. There was no way I was going back to the mining rig. I had to defend myself somehow. Appeal to the Sheriff’s better mercy. Did he have any? I was only going to have one shot to talk to him before he berated us for my actions at the barge, and then I was done.

Before Nagel answered, I said quickly, “Sheriff, if you’ll let me explain. I saw a suspect and moved. It was my only chance and I took it.”

Raising an eyebrow, the Sheriff listened as I rushed through my defense, acknowledging that I had acted alone but I had learned from the mistake. I remembered to note that Sergeant Keldon had recognized the technician as a probable hacker who may also have been involved in the attack.

I wrapped up my defense as quickly as possible, unable to read Nagel’s expression and content I’d said everything I could.

Silence hung between us.

The Sheriff’s broad face showed emotion mostly in the space between his thick eyebrows and the edges of his lips, which turned down in a frown. He looked at Keldon. “Sergeant, who told this trainee to speak?”

“No one, Sheriff.”

“What the hell did he just blather on about?”

“I have no idea.”

Nagel shook his head and sat up in his chair. “Then let’s pretend whatever that just was, never happened. Here’s what I need from you.”

I blinked. What had just happened?

“Yes, Sheriff,” Keldon said.

“Not you, Keldon. The baby-faced new deputy here. I need somebody shiny for a special assignment. Is he ready?”

“Sheriff,” I said, regaining my composure.

Nagel’s voice dropped like a stone. “I’m not talking to you, Trainee. Shut your mouth.”

I went to a stiffer parade rest, hands clenched in the small of my back, and stared at a plaque on the wall from the current governor of Taurus Station that read: “Services above and beyond the call of duty.”

“Is he trustworthy?” the Sheriff asked Keldon.

Keldon took too long considering the question, then nodded. “I think so, Sheriff.”

“I trust you, Sergeant. Tell it to me straight.”

Keldon looked bruised. “Sheriff, you pay me to tell you the truth. You might tell me to shut up and color afterward, but I never lie.”

Nagel nodded. “That’s true. You’ve saved my ass more than once, Sergeant Keldon. I don’t forget my friends.”

I glanced at Keldon out of the corner of my eye. He was staring straight ahead. “I do my duty, Sheriff.”

The big man glared across his desk at Keldon, then shifted his heavy gaze to me. “You know you’re lucky to have this man as your trainer, don’t you, Walker?”

He knows my name? I played it smart this time and kept my mouth shut.

“This man has more commendations than any other deputy on active duty right now. He brought down the Sense Gang ten years ago. I don’t think he was much older than you at the time. He was definitely smarter, though.”

Now Keldon shook his head. “I think you’re misremembering, Sheriff.”

“I remember just fine. You ran into the den of sin on your own, no backup for a klick, and dragged out the head of that gang kicking and screaming like a little kid. And when we tried to pin a medal on your chest, you refused. ‘Why do I need a medal for doing my job?’ That’s what you said. You made me look like a fool at that awards ceremony.”

“You knew how I felt about awards.”

I stared straight ahead, keeping my face neutral. Any civilian or former military might have wondered how Keldon could get away with talking to the Sheriff like this. In my short time at the Department, I was gradually figuring out how the fine line between authority and experience worked. Keldon was one of the most experienced line supervisors on the force, and Nagel knew Keldon would lay down his life for the people of Taurus Station without hesitation. That earned him a bit of insubordination, but only in certain circumstances like the awards ceremony, which most veteran deputies thought were a waste of time anyway. Nobody got paid more for awards.

“Right.” Nagel dragged an oversized hand down the side of his face, showing fatigue for the first time. “Here’s the assignment. You’re going to take our trainee here and make him personal security for one Kiren Carthage. She’s James Carthage’s daughter, if I need to spell that out. She’s marrying Harvey Joyce’s son, George.”

Keldon gave a low whistle. “That’s a big deal.”

“It’s going to join the two largest energy conglomerates in five systems. I’m not a political man, but I’d call this a pretty damn political situation. Carthage has property here on Taurus, but his daughter is only in town for the wedding. You’re going to keep her safe. This is a personal favor to her father, who holds a lot of water in this town. You understand me?”

“I understand, Sheriff,” Keldon said.

“I’m not talking to you.” The Sheriff glared at me. “I’m talking to you. You understand me, Deputy?”

He called me deputy.

“I understand, Sheriff.”

“Good. And keep your hands off the goods. This is a serious assignment. These people own half of Taurus Station and the surrounding mining and shipping concerns. Something bad happens to this girl and our tourism receipts will hit the toilet. She’ll be broadcasting everything to her various networks. She’s some kind of celebrity that way, so if the yearning masses see her having a good time, the governor and tourism office will be our friends a hundred times over. This is a lot of trust I’m placing in you, Deputy.”

I squared my shoulders. “I appreciate this opportunity, Sheriff. I won’t let you down.”

“Damn right, you won’t. Otherwise it’s your ass. I’ll send you back to that mining rig before you can sneeze.”

When I looked surprised, Nagel continued, “That’s right. I know your story, Walker. This is your opportunity to make something of yourself in this department. Don’t screw it up.”

I nodded stiffly. “I won’t screw it up, Sheriff.”

He stared hard at me, still sitting but seeming like he was towering over both of us. I did my best to stare forward and not meet his stone-like gaze.

“I don’t even want to hear those words coming out of your mouth, Walker,” Nagel said. “In any case, you’ve got Sergeant Keldon here to guide you through this mess. He’s going to make sure you do this right. Correct, Sergeant?”

“Correct,” Keldon said.

“I just sent your mission brief,” Nagel said. “Let me know if you have questions.”

Keldon snapped to attention and issued a salute, then spun to exit.

I looked at the Sheriff for another second, then followed my trainer’s lead and snapped a salute.

My heart was still pounding when the lift doors closed on the bullpen and all its grinning faces.

4

Down in the locker room, we changed out of our uniforms and into our street clothes. Keldon wore a stained shipsuit that made him look like any mechanic, and I was in pants and a button-down shirt.

I was ready to call it a day. I needed time to read the documents Nagel had sent and fully process the new task. How much trouble was I going to be in?

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.

“We’re not done yet,” Keldon said.

I frowned. “Yes, sergeant?”

“You’re coming out with me for a drink. It’s time I took you to Drake’s Place.”

Drake’s was the bar where most of the deputies wound down after shift. I’d heard it mentioned a thousand times but hadn’t been invited in yet. Until I was fully sworn in, it would have been a major mistake to enter on my own.

Keldon must have heard the uncertainty in my voice. “Nobody’s going to beat your ass if you’re with me. Besides, you’re close enough to being done that anyone who recognizes you will probably assume you’re sworn.”

That sounded reassuring. Maybe. We hadn’t discussed the VIP mission yet, or why the Sheriff might have chosen me. I figured Drake’s would be a good place to ask the questions burning in my brain.

We walked back to the main lift and dropped down to the secure exit, which spit us out on the main street in front of the department. Keldon waved for me to follow and took off down the sidewalk, where the foot traffic and side music was too loud for idle conversation.

After travelling three blocks down the street, pushing between crowds gathered around musicians and street artists, we reached a nondescript gray door with a small sign that read Reload Supplies. Keldon pulled the door open and ordered me inside.

The dark, rectangular room had a bar running the far side. Beat up booths lined three walls, with round tables in the middle for larger groups. One wall was covered in games, including a few ancient dart boards. There were none of the gambling machines found in every other Taurus Station bar, where even the churches had slot machines.

Keldon led the way up to the bar, where a grizzled man with iron biceps wiped down a collection of pint glasses.

“Drake,” the sergeant said. “This is Gage Walker.”

Drake pulled his attention from the broadcast fight he’d been watching and looked me up and down. “Welcome,” he said, offering one of his big hands to shake. “You sworn yet?”

“Not yet,” I said. “I’m in my seventeenth week.”

Drake glanced at Keldon. “How many years now, Jack?” he asked.

“I lost count.” He obviously knew.

“Just over fifteen,” Drake said. “I’d bet money on it.”

“No betting at Drake’s,” Keldon said. “A rule that has most likely saved my pension.” He pointed a thumb at me. “Walker’s all right. He’s screwed up, for sure, but a little less than most.” Drake nodded. “Invite me to your swearing in,” he told me. “I’ll be there.”

“I will,” I said. “Thank you.”

Keldon slapped the bar. “Two beers.”

“Beer?” Drake looked surprised. “What happened to your bourbon?”

“We need to talk shop for a bit,” Keldon said. “We’ll see how that conversation progresses.”

Drake nodded and took two of his freshly polished glasses to fill at the tap. He didn’t bother asking what kind of beer.

As the big man poured, a woman burst from the kitchen double doors, shouting, “Dad, the combiner’s stuck. It’s got a big hunk of meat in the printing chute. Were you experimenting again?”

She was half Drake’s size and a quarter his age, but his shoulders still hunched slightly at the sound of her voice. He wasn’t afraid of her, but it was obvious she was a force to be reckoned with.

Drake set the beers on the bar and faced his daughter. “That hunk of meat is a porterhouse steak, Bree. Old style. I found the recipe in a long-lost data file. I’ve almost got it right.”

Bree had her father’s dark coloring and a pointed expression that said she didn’t take crap.

“Steak is a little generous. Next time clean up after yourself. I’ve got dinner prep to do.”

“Ms. Bree,” Keldon said, drawing her attention away from her father.

I straightened a little and gave her a nod.

“Who’s the newbie?” she asked Keldon, jerking her head in my direction.

“This is Deputy Gage Walker.”

“Hello,” I said.

Bree gave me an appraising glance. “You sworn yet?”

“Almost.”

“So, the answer is no. Liars are my least favorite thing in the universe.”

I looked at Keldon for assistance, who just laughed and reached for the beers.

“Bree suffers no fools,” he said. “So, I take it we’re stuck with pre-made food for dinner?”

“I’ll have it fixed in a minute.” She leaned forward and gave Keldon a conspiratorial wink. “I just wanted to give Dad a hard time.”

“Never miss a chance for that, do you?” Drake said.

“Nope.”

Keldon chose a booth with a view of both the door and the bar and slid me my beer. “Don’t take it too hard,” he said. “She’s like that with everyone. You need a thick skin in this business.”

“Police work?”

“The business of knowing deputies. We don’t always stick around too long.”

“What’s your secret?”

Keldon held up a finger telling me to wait and drained half his beer. He finished with a satisfied lip-smack. “It’s no secret. I pay attention. It’s like having kids. You pay attention to the situation and then think three steps ahead to every bad thing that could happen.”

“You never mentioned having a kid,” I said.

Taking another drink, the sergeant’s eyes slid away, but I caught the dull look in them. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

I swallowed hard and reached for my beer. “I’m working on thinking ahead.”

“You keep trying until something teaches you the hard way. Today was a bit of a lesson. You made a mistake. That happens, and luckily nobody was hurt. Are we going to solve the mystery of the explosion? Maybe. What mattered at the moment was getting those people help, and you didn’t see that like you should have. You also didn’t communicate. If you fail to communicate, you’re dead. I know they taught you that in the academy. I know I’ve told you. This is your last warning, Trainee Walker. You run off again without alerting your partner or dispatch of your location and disposition, and you’re done. They give you that damn AI jabbering in your ear so you don’t have to think about it. Do you understand?”

I nodded. “I understand.”

Keldon finished his beer. “We’ll see.” He looked at his glass and set it down with a light tap that caught Drake’s attention at the bar.

When we had two replacement drinks, Keldon said, “I’ve reviewed this mission the Sheriff wants you to take on. I think you should turn it down.”

I blinked. “Is that an option?”

“Everything is an option. It might cost you your job, but it could save your life.”

“Wait. Why do you think this is so dangerous?”

“You do know who James Carthage is, right?”

“Of course I know who he is. The owner of Carthage Mining.”

“He owns more than just Carthage Mining. The only thing he doesn’t is Harvey Joyce’s freighter fleet.”

I’d grown up in the Sixth District company town, an orbital in the vicinity of one of the largest asteroid belts in the sector. My parents had both worked and died for the district. I didn’t think Nagel knew that.

“That look on your face tells me you understand what I’m talking about.”

I shrugged. “I grew up in the district.”

Keldon nodded. “Maybe I’m preaching to the choir. James Carthage is a powerful man. You fail him, and it’s going to be more than your career at stake. My question is why the Sheriff would be tasking a brand new deputy, not even out of field training yet, for this kind of assignment? There are other pretty faces in the department, if that’s what he wanted.” He took another drink and seemed surprised by my expression. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s true. You need a couple good fights to fix that nose for you.”

“You can have whatever face you want,” I said.

“Not as a cop, you can’t. First, nobody really notices your face. All they see is the uniform. But if they see someone as pretty as you, they’re going to want to mess you up on principle. Hell, other deputies might want to.”

I clenched a fist around my beer and studied the scarred table. “You think the Sheriff wants me out of the department?”

“Honestly, I don’t think you matter to him at all. He barely knows you exist. To him, you’re a newbie with no history and little information. A pawn. That makes you useful for certain things. Another deputy with some time under their belt might look at this kind of duty and use it to their advantage. Another thing. The Sheriff doesn’t want you getting involved with Kiren Carthage.”

“Why would I do that?”

Keldon raised an eyebrow. “She’s the daughter of a very rich man, probably being forced into a marriage she doesn’t want. Are you telling me you don’t see the opportunity there?”

“No.”

The sergeant shook his head and tapped his empty glass again for a refill. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you’re perfect for this assignment.”

“Aren’t you the one telling me to do the right thing even when no one’s watching?” I asked.

Keldon sipped his beer. “There’s ethics, and then there’s a life of luxury with a beautiful woman.”

“You told me the amount didn’t matter. What mattered was doing the right thing. Doing your duty. Was that a line of bullshit?”

Keldon sighed. “Here I’ve been thinking you were a hothead, and you’ve actually been listening to me this whole time. Listen, if you go through with this, you’re going to need to be careful. I won’t be there with you, so you’ll have to pay attention. If something doesn’t make sense, record it so you can show it to me later.”

I realized for the first time that Keldon wouldn’t be on the assignment with me. “I thought we’d be working together.”

“Nope, just you. The daughter doesn’t want a heavy police presence.”

“What about my training?”

“You’re getting some special training, it seems. We’ll follow up on anything else we need to cover once you’re done with this assignment.”

Bree sauntered over to our table with another round. A few more cops had arrived and tables were starting to fill up in the bar. She slid a basket of hush puppies to the center of our table.

“Why so serious?” she asked me. “It can’t be as bad as my clogged combiner.”

I sidestepped the question. “You need help with that? I might need a new line of work.”

She shook her head. “We have a strict policy of no law enforcement behind the bar. Also, I do not offer my contact information, and I do not get involved with deputies or any other agents of authority in Taurus Station local space.”

“Damn,” I said, whistling. “That’s a speech. You practice it a lot?”

“Every night.” She took our empty glasses and walked back to the bar, deputies hooting at her the whole way.

“She struck me as more of the nerdy type,” I said.

Keldon set down his fresh beer, which was already a quarter empty. “She is. It’s an act for tips. Bree’s the smartest person in here by a klick.”

I sat in silence for a few minutes, watching Keldon finish his beer. Newcomers called to the sergeant and laughed when he held up his drink, saying, “I’m still working!”

“You really think I should refuse the job?” I said finally. “What happens if I do that? Really?”

“I can’t say exactly. For certain, you live.”

“Has anyone ever told the Sheriff they weren’t going to follow a direct order?”

“Not that I recall.”

I threw my hands up in frustration. “What would you do in my position?”

Keldon took on a distant expression, looking past me. “What would I do if I was brand new on the force and offered a job I knew would put me in a terrible situation? If I was still a young man with all the future ahead of me? I’d quit and go into dentistry.”

I stared at him. “You would do what?”

“Dentistry. The Union has a great training program. You could get all the benefits of active service but you’d never get shot at. You might even serve in combat theater but no enemy combatant’s getting into the dental clinic before you clear out. There would be all sorts of attractive dental assistants running around. The worst you’d have to deal with is people’s nasty mouths, and the drones do most of that work.” Keldon nodded a slow affirmative, a somewhat wistful look crossing his features. “I’d go into dentistry if I was you.”

I rested my elbows on the table and massaged my temples. “I don’t believe that.”

“It’s true,” Keldon said. “If I was never a deputy, my daughter would never have joined the department, and I wouldn’t see her face outside Nagel’s office. He knows I hate going there, and he still calls me. He still calls my trainee for this bullshit duty. Who are we kidding? You’re going to do it. But this time, I’m keeping you alive.”

5

The marble face of the Hotel Chance Wins stretched up at least a hundred meters before it was absorbed by the high ceiling of the outside corridor. The hotel was one of the oldest on Taurus Station but was experiencing a renaissance; surrounded by colors and activity from other establishments, the Chance Wins looked like an ancient mansion.

I set my cruiser to auto and stepped back to let it patrol the local streets until I called for it. I was dressed in civilian clothes, with a jacket covering the shoulder holster carrying my service weapon under my left armpit. The rig wasn’t comfortable, and I kept adjusting my jacket across my shoulders. The other new addition was a comms node tucked behind my left ear.

“Can you hear me, Ellie?” I asked, staring up at the face of the old hotel.

“Of course, Deputy Walker,” she answered, her voice sounding even closer through the bone resonance.

“Is it true you can see what’s going on around me?”

“I have sonic mapping, recording, and thermal resonance capabilities. Not as robust as your duty armor, but I will create a record suitable for court proceedings and your training file.”

“Meaning you can still get me fired?”

“I recommend operating as if Sergeant Keldon were present, Deputy Walker. His proximity seems to enhance your decision making abilities. Also, please remember I am here to aid you.”

I ignored the jab at my judgement. “So you’re calling me deputy, now? Does that mean I’m getting sworn in early?”

“I have been authorized to refer to you as Deputy Walker while on field assignment. Sheriff Nagel does not wish to create confusion during any potential court proceedings.”

That was twice she’d mentioned the possibility of court proceedings. Nagel must be anticipating trouble down the road. “Right, right.”

It was midmorning and the street outside the hotel was full of tourists leaving public transit for the casinos lining this sector. I was early for my appointment, so I stood in front of the hotel and watched the crowd flow by for a few minutes, counting the usual mix of miners, spacers, tourists from Andre Center, and rushed-looking workers on their way to shifts in the hotels and casinos. Up the block, a busker played a violin and lit the air around her with a holo show, gathering a small crowd.

“How long have you been with the department?” I asked Ellie.

“I have been in service three hundred and sixty-two years.”

I whistled. “I thought the department had only been around three-hundred and fifty?”

“I was commissioned by the first Union surveyors arriving from Esmer,” she said. “I am older than the department, though I do receive regular update patches.”

“Huh. You’re still sassy though, even if you are so old. Maybe that’s why?”

“I’m not sassy, Deputy Walker. Any projection of personality traits are purely an element of your imagination. I am not capable of being sassy. Neither am I old, as I do not age in the human sense.”

That last bit sounded a bit stiff to my ears, as if I might have offended her. Was that possible? “You sure about that, Ellie? You’re sounding a bit frosty right now.”

“I am certain.”

Checking myself one more time, I climbed the steps toward the entry. A group of doormen managed the area in front of the Chance Wins, greeting guests, keeping people moving, and cracking jokes as they worked. The nearest doorman recognized me right away, despite the civilian clothes.

“How you doing, Deputy?”

“Good. I stand out that much, huh?”

The doorman grinned. “Everybody else is caught up in their own business. You’re the only person paying attention to everybody else. And you’re packing. You know I’ll need to verify your credentials.”

“Sure thing.” I stepped through an active scanner that verified my status with the department and took note of the kinetic pistol under my armpit. I realized that all the door greeters were dressed better than me, but I was probably only sensitive about it because Keldon had teased me during morning briefing.

* * *

“Nobody’s ever going to accuse you of being vain,” the sergeant said as he appraised my undercover outfit.

“Why would they?”

“Some young officers like to spend a good portion of their paychecks on attracting a mate. Then once they have one all the extra income goes to the curtain climbers and sleep stealers that enter the picture.”

“You mean kids?” I asked. “You don’t need a mate to have a kid.”

“No, but it still seems to work that way. I think it’s a peer pressure thing.”

I dropped the subject because I figured it would upset Keldon to remind him of his daughter, even though he’d brought it up.

“I don’t like wasting brain power on deciding what to wear. That’s one reason I like uniforms.”

“Well, then. We should put you on traffic patrol with the rest of the tight-asses.”

I grimaced. Traffic was the opposite direction from detective, as far as I was concerned.

* * *

The doorman verified my scan and waved me through. “I’d ask you who you’re watching, but it’s like we’re infested with VIPs these days,” the man said. “The Chances Wins went from the oldest hotel on Taurus Station to the hottest in a day. Don’t ask me how. And don’t look under the beds if you want to sleep at night.”

“Thanks for the tip.” I walked through the hotel’s wide entryway, which was dominated by a large fountain. Jets of recycled water burbled from a central sphere, with larger jets coiling down into the pool underneath. Wide-leafed bakhana trees leaned from giant pots along the walls, leading visitors to the front desks, with the lifts to the hotel’s upper levels beyond. The ornate marble walls were covered in surveillance sensors and I counted ten visible security officers in business attire patrolling the entrance.

I approached the desk and explained my purpose. The smiling concierge handed over the security token for the Carthage suites in the hotel penthouse.

“Enjoy yourself, Deputy,” she told me with a smile.

On the ride up, I watched an educational vid on the hotel’s many amenities, from its private casino, spa, dining, shopping, and travel services, to its onsite banking. I hadn’t spent a lot of time in casinos, so I watched with curiosity. The place was a self-contained city. I lost track of time watching the activity and was surprised when the lift reached suite level.

The doors opened on a broad, gold-colored corridor carpeted with scarlet swirls. I waited a second, heard nothing, then walked some twenty meters to the double doors at the far end of the long hallway—the only exit. The sound of voices on the other side of the doors grew louder as I approached.

“Anything I should be worried about?” I asked Ellie.

“Domestic calls are inherently dangerous, Deputy Walker. Refer to your academy training on presence and safe distances. Watch for weapon-like items and note the positions of all persons in the residence.”

“I know all that.”

“Then I have not observed any additional items in this hallway that require your attention. I will update you once we enter the suite.”

I stretched my neck and adjusted my jacket for the tenth time. I glanced at the security sensor above the door and waved. The voices inside stopped.

Sergeant Keldon’s advice ran through my mind again.

“Don’t touch the merchandise. Do your job. Don’t drink. Don’t let her hurt herself. Don’t let her friends hurt themselves. And whatever you do, don’t let her leave for a second location with someone she doesn’t know. That’s a recipe for disaster. My understanding is that all the events of her bachelorette party are planned by an elite social service her father hired, so there shouldn’t be much that isn’t planned. Her father also has a security team, but you won’t see them because she doesn’t like to be kept in a cage.” Keldon had made quotes with his fingers.

“So, I’m just an accessory to this woman?” I’d asked.

“Don’t act like that’s a bad thing. Let her have her party, but you’re there if the shit hits the fan. You remember to communicate, which is not your strong point. You ensure the safety of the VIP and you call in the cavalry if needed. Those are your two important tasks. The rest of the time, try to enjoy yourself and don’t remember anything. You might see some shit.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

Keldon had raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I’ve done my share of rich kid babysitting, trust me. There were some wild ones in my day, and now they head up massive companies like they never had their wildest nights with Sergeant Keldon.”

Recalling the conversation, I realized it was all Keldon’s standard advice: pay attention.

The quiet behind the door was replaced by hushed voices I couldn’t quite make out. I tapped the lock panel with my security token and a chime sounded inside the suite.

Someone asked in a loud whisper, “Is that the deputy?”

Shuffling sounds and muted laughter came from the other side of the doors as I waited. I was about to knock when a red-haired woman pulled them both open and stood in the gap, staring at me with crystalline blue eyes.

I cleared my throat. “I’m Deputy Walker. I’m here for Kiren Carthage.”

She looked me up and down, then flashed an amused smile. “Well, don’t you look delicious.”

That made me pause. I frowned at the woman.

“Are you Kiren?”

“Do you want me to be?” she asked.

I wished I’d reviewed the image in the file better. That woman had worn her hair short but the oval shape of the face seemed similar. I’d been too busy listening to Keldon impart wisdom.

I set my shoulders. “I’m here for Kiren Carthage. Please show me to her.”

“You’re no fun.” The woman opened the doors all the way, and I had a full view of the suite. The space was multi-level with couches, a hot tub to one side, and a full bar near the windows that overlooked the street far below. The couches were covered in discarded clothes where someone had obviously been trying on outfits and casting them aside. A stocky woman sat at the bar, while another lay on a couch with an arm across her forehead. They appeared to be in their early twenties, just a little younger than me.

The red-haired woman spun away from the doors on her tiptoes like a ballerina, fingers joined above her head, then spread her arms and transitioned the maneuver into a skip back to the bar, where a drink waited for her. Over her shoulder, she called, “I’m Kiren. If you’re going to be boring, I don’t think we’ll be needing your services after all.”

I walked into the room and closed the doors. I was glad to note the security system locked the suite automatically.

“Unfortunately, ma’am, I don’t get paid to be entertaining. I’m here to keep you safe. Is it just the three of you?”

The woman at the bar laughed and Kiren rolled her eyes. “I am not a ma’am. Save that stuff for the old folks’ sector. Yes, it’s just the three of us. The wet bag on the couch is Trix, and that lovely is Franca.” Franca was a bright-eyed woman with black hair and a fighter’s build.

“Has your company security already checked in with you?”

“No,” Kiren said. “Well, maybe. If my father hired someone, he didn’t tell me and they haven’t bothered to show their faces. We’ve been here all day relaxing in the hotel, and later we’ll head out for some supplies.”

I checked the suite as she talked, finding everything opulent but uninteresting. There were four bedrooms off the main entertaining area, all strewn with clothes, and two lavatories with immense marble baths. The space was obviously designed for parties.

“Where are you from?” I asked.

“Don’t they tell you that?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if they had.”

“Oh, you’re a little mean. Or is that how you deal with stress? Are you stressed, Deputy Walker?” She clinked glasses with Franca and sipped her drink.

“I’d like to do a good job, and this is my first assignment like this.”

I caught myself. I shouldn’t have admitted this was my first VIP escort tasking. For a second, it didn’t seem she’d noticed.

“I’m your first?” Kiren asked. “That’s kind of special, don’t you think?” She gave me a dazzling smile when I glanced at her.

I stood at the windows for a few seconds, watching the street below. Keep it professional, I remembered Keldon’s advice. But be genuine.

I joined them at the bar. “What’s your itinerary for today?”

“Busy,” Franca said, raising her eyebrows. “Very busy.”

“The party’s tomorrow night,” Kiren said. “We’ve still got last minute coordination with the club for that. Then the catering for the ceremony. The music. All those fun things.”

“I figured you’d have employees to do that work for you,” I said.

“Of course,” Kiren said. “That doesn’t mean I don’t need to check on them. Sometimes that’s harder than doing the work yourself. It’s so hard to trust anyone. We’ll need to head out today for a little shopping just to relax. And I don’t have anything to wear.”

I glanced at the piles of clothes strewn around the suite.

“Roll your eyes if you want, Deputy,” Kiren said as she finished her drink. “How I look is a matter of business. I’m a walking commodity.”

“That’s an interesting way of putting it.”

Franca reached across the bar and put her hand on my arm. “Can I get you anything?”

“Coffee is fine.”

“Well, that’s no fun,” Franca replied.

“He’s doing his job,” Kiren said. “That’s what he’s here for, right? Not to entertain us. Speaking of that, where did you grow up?”

I straightened. “I would rather keep our relationship professional.”

“He’s ashamed of where he grew up,” Franca said. “That’s unfortunate.”

“We’ll find out one way or another, won’t we?” Kiren said. “What do you do with yourself when you aren’t on duty? That’s a bland enough question.”

“Hobbies?” I asked.

“Sure. Hobbies, vices, obsessions.”

“I make whiskey.”

Franca waved at the drink dispenser. “Why would you do that? Isn’t that what the combiner is for?”

“I enjoy it,” I said.

“I like to drink whiskey,” Kiren said. “You’ll have to tell me what goes into making it sometime. I like men who make things.”

A loud snore came from the couch. Kiren cocked her ear, then bundled up a shirt hanging across one of the barstools and flung it at her friend Trix. The throw fell short.

“Is she all right?” I asked, grateful for the distraction.

“She thinks she can sleep her life away to shut out the pain of living,” Kiren said. “But I’ve got a lesson for her.”

The smell of brewing coffee floated across the bar and Kiren sniffed loudly. “That’s delicious. All right, from now on, coffee drinks only. I don’t want any more sleepyheads. Besides, we’ll need our wits about us if we’re going to venture into the Haight-B.”

I frowned. Haight-B, or Haight Bazaar, was a gray market warehouse in the docks section where anything could be had for a price. It wasn’t a safe place for a lone deputy, let alone a group of wealthy tourists from powerful families.

Kiren punched me in the arm as Franca handed over a steaming cup.

“Don’t look so glum,” Kiren said. “We’ve all had anti-kidnapping training. Franca is a pit fighter, and Trix over there collects knives.”

I sipped the excellent coffee. “And what do you do?”

The red-headed woman smiled. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

6

For the rest of the day, I shadowed Kiren and her friends through the retail section at Chance Wins, leaning against walls as they tried on clothes, nibbled snacks, and sucked down free drinks. What surprised me was how little Kiren actually purchased. The three of them seemed to approach each store as its own challenge, learning everything they could about the designers who had made the clothing before they finally tried on clothes and deemed most of them unworthy.

Each visit followed a similar pattern, with the women disappearing into changing rooms with the helpful staff to emerge in outfits that ended in laughter.

In the third store, the process changed. The boutique was called Planet and had only two employees: a woman sitting at a reception desk and a man in the back. Once we were all inside, the receptionist turned away most people who tried to enter the store, while the clerk at the back asked Kiren several questions that were nothing like those she’d been asked in the other shops.

As I glanced at a rack of designer suits, the blond clerk said, “I’ll need to verify funds.”

While the statement wasn’t that much different than other stores, the thin man’s tone had none of the desire to please I’d heard throughout the day.

What were they up to?

“You’re asking me to verify funds?” Kiren said. “Are you blind? You checked my ID verification, didn’t you?”

Franca and Trix spread out around the store. For a couple party girls, they sure looked like they were providing security for Kiren. The new behavior didn’t mean I wasn’t going to do my job, but it put a twist on the situation.

I glanced at the receptionist, who was staring at the boutique’s glass entryway. The scene was quickly changing from a shopping spree to what looked like a drug or weapons sale.

I guess we aren’t going to Haight-B after all.

I watched Kiren from the corner of my eye as I flipped through suits. The party girl's body language was gone. She stood like an executive, arms crossed.

A minute later, the clerk said, “I have your verification. It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Carthage. Would you care to try anything on today?”

“That’s why I’m here. Do you have the outfit I requested?”

“I do. Right this way.”

The clerk nodded and motioned for Kiren to follow him through a door in the back of the boutique.

Franca was closest to me. I moved toward her and asked in a low voice, “What’s going on?”

“Shopping,” the black-haired woman said. “What do you think we’re doing?”

“I don’t know what exactly, but it looks a lot like illegal activity. Why are we whispering?”

Franca glanced at the receptionist. “I don’t want to interrupt anyone’s shopping. You’re right, this is a specialty shop. But it’s nothing to get concerned about. You wouldn’t want to create extra paperwork for yourself, would you?”

“I’m here to keep you safe, not provide a cover for whatever petty crimes you feel like committing. I’m reporting directly to the Sheriff on this, and Kiren’s father. Now would be a dumb time to buy something illegal.”

Franca raised an eyebrow. “I think you need to relax, Deputy Walker. I’ll tell you what. How would you like to try on one of these suits? We’ll have Kiren pay for it. She’d be more than happy to dress you.”

“No thanks,” I said. “That sounds like a bribe. I have no interest in throwing my career away for a suit.”

“Are you always so inflexible? It’s not an attractive trait in a man.”

“I’m here to do a job.”

The door in the back of the boutique swung open and Kiren walked through with a bright smile. She raised her hands for one of her dancer’s pirouettes and patted Trix on the cheek as she walked past. She was wearing the same outfit as far as I could tell.

“We’re done here,” Kiren said. “Perfect fit. I can’t thank them enough.”

“Leaving so soon?” Franca asked. “I thought we might dress up our deputy here. Lord knows he needs some style.”

Kiren paused, looking at me as if she’d forgotten I was there. “He is kind of sad looking, isn’t he?”

The other women nodded and agreed.

“He’s got a nice body,” Trix said. “He just needs to show it off a little bit. The current outfit just lacks confidence.”

“Do you lack confidence?” Kiren asked.

“It’s not something I worry about much,” I said.

“Of course not.” Kiren laughed. “Come on, we’ll hit another spot on the list. They’ve got a better selection for your type.” Whatever had happened in the back of the shop, she seemed pleased about it. Teasing me was an afterthought, which suited me.

On the way out, I asked Ellie to set an evidence lock on the location and send her scan data to Evidence. Despite her reduced capabilities, I had a feeling the employees or place would get a hit.

“No records, Deputy,” Ellie answered.

* * *

Frustrated that the couple in the shop hadn’t been in the database, I started watching Kiren and her friends not as spoiled rich people but a criminal crew. I had no evidence they were up to anything illegal, but it satisfied my feeling that something strange was happening.

I’d had a block of training on undercover operations in the academy, and I used some of its probing techniques to gain information, while trying to build trust. I focused on Franca, who seemed the most law enforcement oriented among all of them. The muscular woman moved with a measured bearing that I immediately recognized as military experience.

In the next shop, I asked, “Where’d you serve?”

Franca raised an eyebrow at me over a rack of filmy shirts. “What makes you think I served?”

“Our sheriff was a soldier. He’s got the same way about him.”

“I’m trying to get the pole out of my ass,” she said finally. “Is it that obvious?”

“I’d say you walk with a purpose.”

Franca held up a transparent shirt and turned it on its hanger, then she frowned and stuck it back on the rack. “I trained at Camp Cutter on Outer Driges. Short-range artillery, mobile forces, then went Special Ops. Lots of assignments after that. I was on Kabadon for a year. That was probably the most interesting thing I did.”

To my knowledge, every place she named was newly settled or disputed.

“How long were you in all together?”

“Six years. Standard enlistment was enough for me. I liked it, but I wanted to do something different with my life.”

Kiren noticed us talking and slid up beside me. She pressed one of the tissue-like shirts against my chest. “I think you’d look great in this, Deputy. Why don’t you try it on?”

I pushed the hanger away from my throat. “Not really my style.”

“It better be if you’re getting into the club we’re heading to tonight. Strict dress code.”

“I don’t see how you can call that a dress code.” I glanced at Franca, looking for a little help, but she only shook her head with a smile.

“She’s actually not lying,” Franca said. “You’re not getting into Restitution wearing that off-duty cop gear. Security will spot you a mile away.”

“I don’t need their permission,” I said, too stiffly.

Trix appeared from a dressing booth, wearing an iridescent outfit that shimmered like running water when she moved. She put her hands on her hips and spun.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“You’re making the Deputy blush,” Franca said. “You must be doing something right.”

“I’m not trying to make anybody blush,” Trix said. “I want to make people sweat. This isn’t church.”

Franca laughed. She had moved to a display of headbands and was matching them against her silver hair. As she raised her arms to adjust the accessory, I spotted a short-nosed pistol under her armpit.

“Look,” Kiren said, throwing the shirt on a rack. “You can push your way in as big bad peace officer, have everybody looking at you and knowing who you are, or you can join the party and maybe actually learn something. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“I’m here as your security detail.”

“Really?” Kiren said, not sounding convinced. “My dad didn’t ask his buddy the Sheriff to send someone to spy on me while I’m on Taurus Station? That seems like the more likely scenario. He knows I can take care of myself.”

“If I’m a spy for your father, nobody told me about it.”

“I can see you’re uptight,” Kiren said. “I didn’t think you were stupid.”

Across the rack, Franca bit back a smile.

Trix slapped her thigh to get our attention. “Is anybody going to tell me if this works or not? I’m getting cold standing here.”

“You’re a doll,” Kiren told her. “But that is completely impractical. It isn’t going to work at all.”

“I’ve got hiding places,” Trix said. She pouted in the mirror. “I think it makes my eyes look pretty.”

I laughed. Couldn’t help myself.

Trix shot me a venomous look in the mirror. “You don’t think I look good, Deputy?”

“Ma’am, I have no opinion.”

Kiren slammed another shirt on the rack. “No, Deputy. You don’t get off that easy. Do you find Trix attractive?”

“I’m here to provide for your personal well-being,” I said. “I can’t help your self-esteem.”

“Oof,” Kiren said.

Trix shook her head angrily and ducked back inside the changing room.

Franca gave me a slow clap. “You’re either an idiot or you’ve got augmented skin. You know she’s a knives expert, right?”

“Bullets are faster than knives.”

Kiren threw her hands in the air and declared the boutique a waste of time. I followed the women across-station to another retail center that was even more exclusive. We were stopped by a smiling concierge as we tried to leave the lift, and several people in the car were turned away. I was ready to show my badge, but Kiren intercepted the concierge first and the small woman waved us through.

The next set of boutiques didn’t have racks or even salespeople that I could see. Kiren and her friends seemed more serious now, and they disappeared into changing rooms only to reappear in custom-fitted clothes that elicited careful criticism, not laughter. They were like mercenaries getting outfitted for a mission.

I alternated between watching them try on outfits and watching the people in the shopping district outside. The exclusive nature of the area was apparent in its low traffic. Groups passed with human and drone attendants, odd pets, and other contrived statements of their wealth. Kiren and her friends paid no attention to anyone, while the other people seemed intent on seeing and being seen.

In the final boutique, Kiren crooked her finger and called me to the center of the sparsely decorated space.

“This is your store,” she said. “I’m buying you an outfit for the party.”

“Ms. Carthage, I appreciate it, but I can’t allow you to buy me anything. It’s not appropriate.”

“For a deputy on Taurus Station, what they advertise as the hottest party spot in the system, you sure are boring.” She rubbed her chin. “I think what I’ll do is buy you the outfit I want you to wear and send it to your boss with instructions from my dad. That way you can’t refuse to wear it, and your boss will know what a boring person you are.”

“It’s all right if you’re boring,” Franca said. “We won’t hold it against you. We’re here to help you. We really do like you.”

Trix shook her head. “I don’t like him.”

“I like you,” Kiren said, leaning a little closer than was appropriate.

I cleared my throat and straightened.

“Am I making you nervous, Gage?”

I could tell she wasn’t going to back down this time. She had taken on her executive stance.

“Let’s use Deputy Walker,” I said.

“Keeping it professional,” she said. “Sure. That means I can use your chain of command, right? Are you going to let us dress you, or should I call your boss and make him order you? Maybe I could call my dad and have him order Sheriff Nagel to order you? That might be more fun.”

I didn’t need anything getting back to the Sheriff except the news that I’d completed the assignment, and I didn’t like the idea of Kiren getting her father involved. “I’ll let you buy me clothes on one condition.”

“What?” Kiren asked.

“After this, we go to the club so I can do my security review before the party. If I give you any instructions at the party, you’ll agree to follow them.”

“I can’t guarantee anything,” Kiren said. “But sure, we can visit the club first. I should have known you’d want to recon. You and Franca can do it.”

I glanced at the veteran. “How about we all go? I’m responsible for everyone’s safety while you’re on Taurus Station.”

“So conscientious,” Kiren said. “Let’s hope that doesn’t get you hurt.”

7

I had just sat down on my couch with two fingers of bourbon in a glass, prepared to tend my bonsai tree, when a security alert pinged my apartment door. I straightened and looked at my whiskey tumbler, then set it on the side table and pulled my pistol from the uncomfortable holster under my arm. I called up the access menu on my holo and found the warped face of a man I didn’t recognize peering into the security monitor.

“State your business,” I said.

“Deputy Gage Walker?”

“Who are you?”

“I work for James Carthage. Mr. Carthage would like to meet with you.”

“I’m off the clock.”

It had only been an hour since I’d left Kiren and her friends at the Chance Wins.

The thug adjusted his tie. “The Sheriff made it clear you were at Mr. Carthage’s disposal. I can let Mr. Carthage know that isn’t the case.”

Godsdammit. “No. Fine. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Thank you.”

I drained the whiskey and threw the tumbler in the reclaimer, then I did my best to shake the wrinkles out of my jacket before I pulled it on. After giving the node behind my ear a check, I said, “Ellie, I’ll be in service.”

“Copy, Deputy Walker. Overtime is authorized for this duty. Stay safe.”

Overtime had been the last thing on my mind.

There were two men standing in the outside corridor. They didn’t bother introducing themselves.

“We’ve got a transport downstairs,” the one who had called said.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Don’t worry. We’re not leaving the station.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “I hate zero-g.”

At the base of my apartment stack, one of them opened the side door on a matte black transport and I climbed inside. We rode across the station for thirty minutes, the two men sitting across from me with blank expressions, to arrive at a generic business structure in one of the newer sections near the station’s outer skin, where most spaces looked like they were still awaiting tenants.

Following a silent lift ride, the thugs led me down a hallway lined by shifting displays showing business performance, prices, and the status of mining operations. Much like Kiren’s suite at the Chance Winds, the hallway ended on a wide, vault-like door. Rich people sure liked their impressive entrances.

One of my escorts checked in on the security panel and the inner door slid open.

“Please,” the guard said.

“You coming too?”

The two men only clasped their hands in a waiting stance and stared straight ahead.

I shrugged and walked through the doors into a wide office decorated only by a desk with two chairs in front of it. The entire wall behind the desk was filled by an apparently real-time view of an asteroid tumbling in space as drones attacked it from several angles. Human figures moved between the drilling sites on the surface of the asteroid. The style of mining was one of the oldest and most dangerous; it was also common among Carthage mines, since humans tended to be cheaper than drones. The sight tightened my throat. I didn’t like to think about the operation that had killed my parents, but there it was.

The man sitting at the desk was built like a sledgehammer, with a block-shaped head sitting atop a wiry body. He blinked as he read a feed on the surface of his desk, only glancing up briefly when I entered the room.

“James Carthage?” I asked.

“Close the door.”

I glanced back to find the door already sealed, then I walked slowly toward the desk, taking in the empty, stone-like walls and the massive image behind Carthage, wondering if it was actually real-time or part of some greatest hits collage.

“I’m Deputy Gage Walker.”

Carthage was wearing a worker’s shipsuit with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. If I hadn’t been told who he was, it would have been easy to assume Carthage was a prospector or engineer. A peppering of gray in his tightly curled hair showed he didn’t care much about his appearance.

The businessman continued reading the feed on his desk, the edges of his lips turned down in a frown as the information flowed past. Finally, he swept the display clean and pushed his chair back to stand and stretch.

Carthage nodded at the display behind him. “What do you think about that?”

“It looks like an asteroid.”

“That’s Object 3662, in the vicinity of Sixth Belt. That one matters to you, doesn’t it?”

I frowned. That was the rock where my parents died. He knows. But why would it matter to him? I did my best to keep my face impassive.

“Should it?” I asked.

“You don’t think it’s strange that Sheriff Nagel gave up the only deputy on his force who had family die on one of my asteroid ops to provide the safety detail for my daughter?”

I stared past him at the people leaping across the asteroid, executing the complex process of placing explosives. Setting charges across the surface of the asteroid was an art. You had to track the drones above you as you jumped, while also anticipating spin and maintaining a mental grid along radial and axial positions. Since you couldn’t easily shift direction in zero-g, you had to move in a spiral across the surface of the rock. EV suits didn’t carry enough propellent to get back to the rig if you miscalculated.

Come down in the wrong place and the drone nailed you to the rock. Jump too high and you had to hope the crew boss would send a rescue team, which spent fuel that cost more than your life. Could drones do the whole job? Sure, but drones and repair parts were expensive out in the Deadlands, and humans worked for cheap.

My mom and dad used to laugh and tell me, That’s life between the rock and void.

“Not just family.” I dropped any pretense of misunderstanding.

“That’s right. You lost everything. Does that seem strange to you?”

Carthage didn’t apologize. I stared back at the man.

The truth was, I had never known much about the actual company that owned our rig, and when Mom and Dad didn’t come back from a regular asteroid run, well, that was how lives ended out there. I’d spent two years in the void, not hopping across rocks like them since it made me puke in my suit, but processing ore on Carthage rigs. We all knew the danger. We were miners, hard people with little time for emotion or affection. All you could do was laugh and take pride in something as deadly as the miner’s life.

I didn’t hate James Carthage. If the rig hadn’t been owned by this man, it would have been owned by a Smith or a Ngobe or a whoever. The rigs created their own misery, and the people who worked them owned their misery as a badge of honor.

Did this man expect me to hate him? That was sad, if anything. What a way to live.

I shrugged. “I do what I am ordered to do.”

“Is that right? Is everything black or white for you?”

“Justice isn’t black or white, Mr. Carthage. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I want to know why Nagel chose you.”

“The Sheriff didn’t share his thoughts with me. He told me what to do, and here I am.”

Carthage narrowed his eyes. “You don’t even have a service record that I can locate. That seems suspect to me as well. No family. No record. Been with the force for less than two years, most of that in the academy. I can’t even find out what your hobbies are, Deputy Walker. You might as well be a vat-born android. The only interesting thing about you is that you grew up, and later worked on, one of my rigs.”

I hooked my thumbs in my belt. “If you know what life is like on your rigs, Mr. Carthage, I think that would be all you need to know about me. I came up in a company school. I like to play leap ball. I get vertigo in zero-g, which kept me out of the service, but I scored well on the law enforcement placement exam, and I won a slot with the Taurus Station Sheriff’s Office. I was the best shot in my academy class. You’re wearing a worker’s outfit like you know what my life is like, so what more do I need to explain? Every day I said goodbye to my mom and dad, I expected I might never see them again. I had plenty of friends that got the notice. Some of those friends are hopping rocks right now, and here I am. I don’t hate you. I think you’re a symptom like everything else. I’m here to keep your daughter safe, and that’s what I plan to do.”

Carthage gave me a grim smile. “You’ve got balls. I’m a symptom, am I?”

“Just like Taurus Station. Can’t have a mine without a saloon, right? It’s history.”

“How do I know you aren’t working for Harvey Joyce?”

“The groom’s father? Why would he try to harm Kiren?”

“Joyce wins in either scenario. Sink the wedding and he sinks my stock. The wedding goes through and he’s effectively getting the board seat he’s always wanted.”

“I’m not working for Harvey Joyce,” I said.

Carthage dropped back into his seat, looking tired. He tapped the desk and brought up a new set of feeds, then he waved at the chair in front of me.

“Take a seat. Stop standing there like a robot.”

I sat as Carthage shifted the display to the air above his desk. It was Kiren’s itinerary for the party and wedding ceremony.

“So, you already scoped out the club for tomorrow night,” Carthage said. “What do you think?”

“Secure access, multiple checkpoints. They have competent onsite security and the party area is separate from the rest of the club. They’ll be scanning everyone coming in and the area will be heavily monitored.”

“I’ll be watching.”

“I expected you would be.”

“Kiren knows it, too. That’s why she’s going to try and go somewhere else. You need to stop her from leaving.”

Watching the calculations move behind James Carthage’s gaze, I could understand where Kiren got her controlling nature.

“Does she know you don’t want her to leave?” I asked.

Carthage gave a weary laugh. “It doesn’t matter what I want her to do. She does what she wants. So, you’re going to have to make it more interesting for her to stay at the club.”

“That’s not part of my skill set.”

“Right. I expected that. I’ve got this to help.” Carthage opened a drawer and pulled out a funds card made of plain metal. He slid the card across the desk.

“That has no limit. Whatever you need to do to keep her in that club all night, you do it. I’ll have a detail that can follow her if she does leave, but I know what’s going to happen once she gets outside. She’ll be gone. She’s done it before. It took me a month to get her back.”

I raised an eyebrow. “She made it sound like she agrees with the wedding.”

“Kiren is easily distracted. She’s focused for the time being. She knows I’m making this worth her while. But if something more interesting appears, she’ll be gone, and my deal will be gone with her. The other side of this deal is that once the wedding goes through, I get a controlling interest in Joyce’s board as well. We’ll lock both supply and distribution in seven systems. Our competition will be forced to sell or die.”

I noted that Carthage never said his future son-in-law’s name.

“Seems like you would want more than just me keeping her in check, then. I’m a deputy, not a babysitter, and there’s only one of me.”

“I’d roll an army in here if I could, but Nagel won’t have it. He said you could handle this.”

That didn’t make any sense.

“Let me get this straight,” I said. “You want the wedding to happen, right?”

“I don’t like it, but I see what Kiren is doing. She’s stabbing me in the heart, but when her time comes, she’ll be one of the most powerful people in the sector. That’s … admirable.”

I nodded. I could understand that, especially when squared with what I knew about Kiren Carthage so far. I leaned forward to take the funds card, which was heavier than I expected.

“You could buy a cruiser with that thing,” Carthage said. “But don’t. If you abuse my good faith, you’ll pay for it. You understand me?”

I set the card back on the desk. “I don’t work for you, Mr. Carthage.”

The mine owner pressed his hands flat on the surface of his desk and glared at me. “Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?”

Technically, I’m not even a Sheriff’s Deputy… yet.

I drummed my fingers on an armrest. “I’m not motivated by threats. I told you I would do my best to keep your daughter safe, but I won’t make promises I can’t keep. If you think you’d need an army to keep her in one club, what makes you think I can do it by myself? I’m not going to lie to you and say I can.”

Carthage relaxed slightly, narrowing his eyes. “A person acting in good faith. I’m not used to that. Just remember, you’re part of a bigger picture here, Deputy Walker. You may not be told what it is, but you do your part and I’ll remember.”

“And like I said, I’m not doing this for favors. Is there anything else you need from me, Mr. Carthage? I have a long day of protecting your family ahead of me tomorrow.”

Carthage snorted and waved away the display above his desk. The image of the asteroid grew brighter behind his head, as humans and drones pulled away before the detonation. Blue and white plasma reflected on the sides of Carthage’s face as the asteroid popped and went dark, smashed into millions of bits for the drones to transport back for processing. This was a recording, then, meant to impress people who didn’t know any better.

He pushed the metal card back toward me.

“I don’t think I’ll need that,” I said.

“Suit yourself. I’ve got something else for you then.” Carthage pointed to a conference table on the other side of the room. “There’s a case over there. It’s yours.”

“I can’t accept any gifts,” I said.

Carthage cut me off. “It isn’t a gift. It’s a tool, like the card.”

Curious, I stood and crossed the room to the long wooden table. Resting there was a metal case with a pistol inside. The weapon didn’t look like anything they’d showed us in training. Its oversized muzzle didn’t match any of the standard ballistics available on the current market that I could tell, and a digital readout on the side looked like something out of a science fiction holo vid.

“There’s a holster there, too, since I know whatever weapon Nagel issued you is a piece of crap. You’ll notice the butt looks normal enough, so you won’t draw a lot of attention carrying it. If you’re going to protect my little girl, I want you carrying a real weapon.”

“I don’t have time to learn to use this monster,” I said.

“Carry them both if it makes you feel better, but if you run into trouble you’re going to need some real firepower. Now, get the hell out of here. I’m tired of looking at your wholesome face.”

8

The private section of the club set aside for Kiren’s party was a collection of tiers that rose to the VIP lounge, where the bride-to-be and her entourage mingled around the exclusive bar. Music throbbed everywhere until I felt like it was coming from inside my head. I stood near Kiren in the VIP circle, watching as she laughed with Franca and Trix. The other attendees didn’t seem to matter to her. They mattered to me. I scanned our surroundings constantly for any sign of danger, finding only intoxicated rich people.

I was wearing the suit Kiren had insisted on. The material was too shiny for my taste and the jacket hadn’t been cut to allow for my body armor, forcing me to adjust my shoulders constantly. It did manage to hide the badge and pistol on my belt well. In addition to the suit, I had on a pair of mirror-shade glasses that served as a lightweight HUD.

Based on all the second glances I was getting, I was either giving off way too much cop face or had gotten a lot prettier in the dark. I figured it was cop face and tried to smile more, or at least look interested in Kiren’s banter. Everybody else hung on her every word.

Every few minutes, I scanned the room for the private security officers spread throughout the space. The club had a good crew as far as I could tell, with security people every few meters. They seemed to understand the value of keeping James Carthage happy. The only problem was that they weren’t on my law enforcement comms net; they wanted to maintain their own internal net. Still, everywhere I looked, someone from security was in my line of site. If something went down, I should be able to get help.

“Your heartrate is rising, Deputy Walker,” Ellie said. “Are you nervous?”

“It’s hot in this jacket,” I said. “I can’t stop fidgeting.”

“We can conduct heartrate training anytime you seem anxious,” Ellie said. “There are a number of breathing exercises I can suggest.”

“That sounds like torture.”

“I have been told improvement is painful and laziness is soft and comfortable like a baby’s pajamas,” the AI said.

“You sound like Keldon again.”

“Sergeant Keldon is an excellent deputy, thank you.”

Truth was, I’d been chewing on my conversation with Carthage since it ended. I was still angry about his attempt to manipulate me. Despite his orders, the overpowered handgun was still sitting in its carrying case on the kitchen counter back in my apartment.

I hadn’t been able to sleep after the meeting. Instead I mulled over the rich man’s efforts to bully me. The whole scene forced me to ask if I really cared whether I got fired or not. Of course I did. I wasn’t independently wealthy. But it went deeper than that. Every line of thought led me back to my parents, and how I could easily imagine both of them telling Carthage to go fuck himself. Imagining them saying it together gave me something genuine to smile about as I watched the club.

Looking out over the tiers of people getting progressively more intoxicated, I told myself that I didn’t hate rich people for being rich. Most of them had less control over their lives than me. What bothered me to the core was when they thought they had the right to control other people’s lives.

I could almost hear Sergeant Keldon telling me to do whatever I could live with, because if I was lucky, I wouldn’t be a deputy forever. Watching Kiren Carthage flirt and laugh with those around her, I knew I’d do the right thing. Keeping her and her friends safe was easy enough. I’d focus on that. Nothing else mattered.

And if I got fired? Well, at least I’d be able to sleep at night.

I sure as hell wasn’t going to get trapped in a job like my parents.

“What are you looking so thoughtful about?” Kiren asked, sliding next to me. She pressed her shoulder into mine like I’d seen her do with several others in the VIP area.

I glanced at her. Franca and Trix had gone back to the bar to refill their drinks. “I’m thinking about your safety.”

Kiren rested her head on my shoulder. “Aw, aren’t you an honorable knight. Living on Taurus Station must be torture for you.”

She was getting drunk. I was fairly certain Kiren and her friends hadn’t dabbled in anything but alcohol, but they’d ducked into the bathrooms a couple times, so I had no way of knowing. All I could do was judge her behavior, and she was decidedly more handsy than she’d been earlier in the day.

“I had a meeting with your father.”

“Really. What did he say to you?”

“That if anything happens to you, he’s going to ruin my career. He didn’t realize I don’t have a career to ruin.”

Kiren rolled her eyes. “That’s something he would say. He’s all about the threats. Did he try to bribe you?”

“Yes.”

“And did you take it?”

I shrugged. “I left the money and couldn’t refuse the gift. He didn’t give me a lot of choice. He made it seem it was necessary for your safety. Have there been any new threats I should know about?”

“My dad isn’t worried about my safety. He’s worried about controlling someone in the Sheriff’s Office and keeping me from doing anything stupid.”

“Could I stop you?”

She gave me an appraising glance. “The average cop? Probably not. There’s something different about you, though. A roughness maybe. Probably your upbringing.”

“What do you know about my upbringing?”

Kiren smiled and drained her tumbler. “I know everything about you, Gage Walker.”

“Oh, really?”

“I’ve got channels I use to check on people. I need to know if they’re going to get in my way. Being me is my job.” She motioned toward the tiers below us. “Everybody here works for my dad or wants to work for him. If this is going to be about business, I’d rather just do it in the boardroom.” Kiren snickered.

“What’s funny?”

“I said I wanted to do it in the boardroom.”

I gave her a half smile. “I’m sure you’ll have your opportunity. Me, I don’t have much access to boardrooms most of the time.”

“I can fix that. The club has one right through there.” She pointed at a set of doors on the far side of the bar with a security guard controlling access.

I chose not to play. “It’s safer if we all stay at the party.” I recalled Keldon’s advice about not letting her go to a second location; not that a board room was necessarily a second location, but I imagined with Kiren slopes got slippery really quick.

A new group of people wandered up and tried to engage the bride in conversation, just as Franca and Trix returned with drinks. I watched Kiren’s friends expertly maneuver the conversation to themselves as they flanked her. Kiren could certainly hold her own in a conversation, but she seemed to enjoy passing people off to Franca’s biting wit, or Trix’s backhanded flattery. This group wanted to discuss a business opportunity, it was finally revealed, and Kiren only laughed and raised her drink in a toast.

“To the future!” she shouted.

The DJ picked up the shout and lowered the music to allow Kiren’s voice to fill the club. In a few seconds, “Future” was mixed into the music and cheers erupted everywhere.

Kiren turned and raised her hands, giving me a mischievous smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you don’t lose your career.”

Everyone around us started dancing, and then I had to push out of the clot of people gathered around Kiren so I could maintain observation on the whole area. With my back against the railing, I kept an eye on her as she bounced from group to group. In a few minutes, she’d moved down the stairs to the next tier.

Following, I watched as the serious woman worried about her father’s machinations disappeared, replaced by Kiren the party girl, who floated through the club like she owned the place. She caught my gaze several times and winked at me, knowing exactly what she was doing.

Realizing I couldn’t stay close, I moved to a tier along the wall and followed from a distance as they moved, tracking the area around her. At first her path seemed random, until I figured out she was making her way to every major gathering of guests. While she wasn’t able to talk to everyone individually, she was doing a good job of making herself seen and heard. For all her complaints about the attendees, there wouldn’t be anyone who had come tonight that would be able to say she hadn’t given them at least a moment of her attention. In group after group, I watched faces brighten as Kiren blessed them with a bit of conversation.

Where James Carthage was a man who wanted to control people, his daughter seemed able to build connections in seconds. When one drunk young man tried to wrap an arm around Kiren and pull her in close, then drop his hand to her ass, she twisted gracefully out of his grasp and wagged her finger at him. When he pressed, she put him in an arm lock that no one else recognized but I saw as a textbook control hold. She combined the grace of a dancer with the wit of a diplomat, while maintaining physical control of every interaction. She also continued to drink, as Franca and Trix resupplied her with shots from each tier’s bar.

The DJ shouted another welcome message to the party, and then a collection of tumblers and acrobats spilled into the club’s lowest tier. People moved to the railings to point and cheer.

I lost sight of Kiren for a second as the wall of people grew denser around her. When I pushed to where I had last seen her, I spotted Trix’s blond head a tier above me.

I stared, wondering how the hell they’d gotten up there so quickly.

Shouts from the acrobats filled the club. The DJ started a low, heavy bass throb that built tension in the crowd as the room grew quiet so everyone could hear the grunts and calls from the performers. A woman and man dressed in glimmering tights soared in the air, drawing applause from the crowd.

The tier was so packed that I had to walk behind the nearest bar to get to the next one. The bartender complained until he saw the badge on my belt, then he slid to the side and let me through.

What might have been an accident at first now seemed deliberate. Kiren hadn’t stopped to check where I was, something she’d been doing regularly, and Franca and Trix were both making space in the crowd for their friend to follow behind them. They appeared to be headed for one of the middle tiers, where a security guard stood in front of an exit to the club’s admin area.

Cursing my lack of comms with club security, I shoved people out of my way. I had a last glimpse of Franca as the woman turned at the door to look back at me. She smiled and disappeared.

Damn it!

“Ellie, I’m going to need those tracking locks we placed earlier.”

“Stand by.” She paused for a brief moment before speaking again. “Activation successful.”

The tracking lock would allow me to easily follow them with the club’s security system. I hadn’t activated it before because there hadn’t been a need.

“Deputy Walker,” Ellie said. “The lock has dropped. We have no authority on the local security net.”

“What? How is that possible?”

As Ellie told me she didn’t have an answer, I knew why: Carthage had paid the club for anonymity. James Carthage would have wanted to keep competitors out of his business, and Kiren was most likely using the increased security as a screen to get out of the building.

I should have checked that, I chastised myself. Keldon would have known to check it.

“What else can we do?” I asked.

“Maintain visual surveillance.”

“That’s a little difficult when they aren’t in sight anymore.”

“Then I suggest you run,” Ellie said.

When I reached the door, the guard raised a hand in warning. I flashed my badge, ready to push past him. The guard shook his head.

“No entry, Deputy. Sorry. If you want, I can call the manager to check your search warrant.”

“Check my warrant?” I demanded. “I’m here on security detail for the woman that just went through your door. Weren’t you briefed on this?”

“I was told not to let anybody through. That’s what I’m doing.”

I ignored him and reached for the lock panel to enter my law enforcement override. The guard stepped toward me and put a hand to my chest.

Behind us, the crowd cheered the acrobats, then went quiet as they started another stunt. The DJ filled the space with a cascade of notes and bass thrum.

“Ellie, activate recording,” I said. “This is probably going to turn into a complaint.”

“Recording active.”

I pointed at the guard. “You’re obstructing a Sheriff’s Deputy in the course of his assigned duties,” I said. “Step back.”

Instead of moving, the guard tried to shove me out of the way.

In two moves, I grabbed his closest hand as he came at me and bent the guard around in an arm lock. He stumbled and I shoved him to the floor, slamming his face into the wall in the process. That was unfortunate, but it couldn’t be helped.

I stepped around him to key my override into the door and walked through.

The closing door shut out the sounds of the crowd as I found myself in a corridor lined with serving carts and parked cleaning drones. There was no sign of Kiren, Franca, or Trix.

Guess I’m gonna get this nice jacket sweaty.

“What have you got, Ellie?”

“I do not have access to the local security net, Deputy Walker. Once they leave the building, I should be able to access the surrounding municipal network.”

“You think they’re leaving, huh?”

“Their actions indicate a destination outside the building, Deputy Walker.”

I broke into a run again, but I quickly checked each cart and cabinet as I passed. Security would figure out what I’d done to their boy soon enough, and there was no telling how they would react. Probably depended on how much James Carthage had paid them.

Although I was now starting to wonder if I had been focused on the wrong Carthage making the payoff.

The jacket became unbearable. I was in the process of tearing it off as I ran when I reached a door at the end of the hallway that was still hanging open.

Kiren and her friends were gone.

9

“Find her, Ellie!” I shouted as soon as I hit the outside air.

Pulling field visors I’d tucked away in a pocket and jamming them on my face, I activated the HUD. Tracking notices flashed before my eyes as I emerged in the busy street behind the club. A party barge rolled past, hiding the far side of the street with a wall of dancing tourists. Music blared from store fronts all around and the sidewalk was slammed with people. I looked up and down the street, searching for any indication of where Kiren had gone. My HUD scanned faces with no returns.

“They appear to be jamming the municipal security system,” Ellie said. “I have no returns on the tracking lock.”

“Who do you bribe to get that kind of anonymity?”

“I’ll pass the information to Internal Affairs. Someone will have removed Kiren Carthage and her party from the tracking database.”

“I’d like to meet the guy when you find him,” I said. A fat tourist with a multi-colored drink in his hand gave me a dirty look when I didn’t move out of his way.

I wracked my memories from the day for any indication of where Kiren would go.

“How about this,” I said. “Can you run a tracker on the two shop clerks from earlier? Where are they right now?”

“I show them both at an address on the far side of the station.”

“No dice. All right, what other options do we have?”

I ran through the basic tracking steps I’d learned in the academy. Ellie would link with every sensor in the area, following Kiren and her friends and picking up additional information that I would need to sort through later. It was awesome to see all the local resources respond to Ellie’s rapid deployment.

At the same time, my search would go up as a giant red flag that James Carthage’s daughter was now a person of interest. I didn’t have time to worry about that. If I was going to be a pawn between Kiren and her dad, I would at least do the job I’d been hired to do.

“Deputy Walker,” Ellie said. “I have a track on an attendee from the club. Kiren talked to this subject earlier.”

“Show me.”

She shared the matched sensor data from one of the storefronts up the street. I pulled it up in my HUD and watched Kiren and her friends walk past the store. They were following one of the security guards from the club.

While Kiren had hidden her tracking info from the surrounding sensor systems, the guard didn’t have that luxury. I had Ellie place tracking protocol and immediately received an update from a transportation drone three blocks away.

“Hot damn,” I told Ellie. “We’re getting somewhere.”

I recalled my cruiser and met the car at the next intersection. Inside the vehicle, Ellie filled the viewscreen with images from the automatic investigation.

This was one of my favorite parts of the job. I loved using tools and information to solve problems. This was what I wanted to do every day as a detective.

My good mood fluttered a bit when a call hit my comms link.

“Gage,” Keldon said. “What’s going on? Why’d you let her leave the club?”

Of course, Sergeant Keldon would already have checked my progress.

“She ran a screen on the club’s security system and tried to slip out. I’ve got a lock on her and am in pursuit right now.”

“I can see that. You’re lighting up the grid like a bunch of fireworks. That’s all right, but remember you’re not getting any back up there, so be careful. Wherever she goes could be very dangerous for you. What did I tell you?”

“Don’t let her go to a second location.”

“What did you do?”

“I’m not letting her do anything, Sergeant. This woman does what she wants.”

“Just be careful. Send updates on your position and make sure Ellie is recording everything. I’m on the net if you need me. I’ll be monitoring your progress.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” I said.

“Don’t ‘yes, sergeant’ me, Gage. Just watch your ass.”

I almost said “Yes, Sergeant” again, but I stopped myself and signed off with an “affirmative.”

“Tracking,” Ellie told me when I asked for an update.

The cruiser navigated the bustling streets, weaving in and out of traffic and pausing too frequently to avoid pedestrians. Ellie scoured the network for connecting information, pulling the security guard’s name, background, and known associates. He had affiliations with a local drug gang but no arrest record. Once Ellie was done building information on the guard, I let her loose on Franca and Trix.

Franca hadn’t lied about her military background, but she hadn’t mentioned that she was special forces with training in explosives and counterintelligence. Trix was a debutante from another wealthy family who had competed in martial arts from the time she learned to walk. She also collected obscure bladed weapons, just as Kiren had said. Her name came up on several prominent auctions for historical swords and daggers. She had been the primary suspect in a stabbing case that involved one of her ex-lovers, but the case was still in pending status with no change in five years.

Kiren’s file showed nothing beyond her educational record and a few travel visas. Her news feed was dominated by her father’s company, and most open source mentions of her name were shareholder assessments on the future of Carthage Consolidated. One headline asked about the possibility of hostile takeover should James Carthage die.

I added the boutique from earlier and grabbed the clerks’ info. When I connected Kiren and her friends with the clerks, the only returns were location scans from previous shopping trips. The clerk, however, moved all over Taurus, from the maintenance docks to multiple casinos and resort systems. The data was confusing until a job record with a courier company popped up. While most specialty freight on Taurus moved by drone, it wasn’t unheard of to hire humans when the sender didn’t want a data trail.

“They’ve reached an address,” Ellie reported. She shared the location: an apartment stack in an upscale residential section. I redirected the cruiser, and as soon as we got away from the tourist section, pumped it up to full speed.

I studied all this new information, setting the viewscreen to cycle through faces. James Carthage had seemed truly worried about something happening prior to the wedding, but it still didn’t make any sense that his only precaution would be hiring a single Sheriff’s Deputy. Me.

I pulled up the design schematic for Kiren’s location. The stack was a standard residential block. Security was state of the art.

As I expected, a local guard met my cruiser when I arrived. The woman didn’t seem concerned when I shared my credentials and set the cruiser to wait mode. I walked inside the grand building and rode the lift up twenty levels.

The complex was empty and silent around me, reminding me of my meeting with James Carthage. He might have been the only tenant in his building, and this place felt the same.

I followed my HUD’s directions until I was standing in front of a plain white door like a hundred others on the corridor. I was about to activate the security panel when the door slid open to show Kiren standing in the entryway, looking like she expected me. If she’d been watching the building security system, my presence was probably no surprise. Before I could stop her, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my neck in a hug, pressing her body against mine.

“There you are!” she said, breath reeking of liquor. “I thought we’d lost you.”

“What the hell are you doing?” I craned my neck to get a look at the entryway and the apartment beyond. She was obviously stalling me. “You did lose me for a while. Was that on purpose?”

Kiren continued the hug, saying only, “You’re strong.”

I looked past her to the hallway again and noticed a pile of discarded shoes. Giant paintings of people’s smiling faces hung on the walls. I spotted people at the end of the hall.

“Let’s go inside and meet everybody,” I said.

Kiren seemed to like that suggestion. She twisted around to push her head up under my arm. How drunk was she?

I gripped her side with my non-firing hand to hold her upright. We walked together down the hallway.

“You should take your shoes off,” she said. “Ronny has very strict rules about shoes in the house.”

“Who’s Ronny?”

“This is his place. He invited us from the club, said it would be more chill here. And he was right. His apartment is great.”

The hallway opened on a broad entertaining area with a glass wall along one side. The many colors of streets below glowed in the glass. There was a kitchen with full bar, where a few people were gathered, and then a lower area full of cushions and couches, where more people lounged. Smoke curled over the lounge area.

The people looked like the same sort from the club, with a few that drew my eye because they looked a little harder than the rest. None paid us much attention as we came in.

The apartment was nice but Kiren could have bought the whole sector if she wanted. I studied her, recognizing the indicators of a few different party drugs. The good news was that she could walk, unlike Franca and Trix, who were passed out on a couch in the middle of the room with a bunch of other people.

Whoever had drugged them must have done it in the club for them to go out so quickly.

“Why are Trix and Franca passed out?” I asked Kiren.

“Party favors. Why, are you interested in trying some?”

“I’m good,” I said.

“Kiren,” a man called from across the room.

“I’m right here, Ronny.”

I followed the voice and found a tall man in a red cigar jacket coming toward us. He looked me up and down, eyes lingering on my badge and pistol, then nodded when he was close enough to talk.

“Deputy. Welcome. I’m glad you found us. I didn’t realize Kiren had security until after we were in the transport.”

I didn’t have to tell Ellie to pull records data on this Ronny, and I wasn’t surprised when no results appeared in my HUD. She started checking the others in the room with the same results. These people were either all rich enough to get past Station Administration altogether, or somebody had put a geo-wash on the location. Neither was cheap.

“Ronny owns ships or something,” Kiren said, waving a nonchalant hand.

The drunk version of Kiren irritated me. I nodded, though, looking at Ronny so he could elaborate.

Ronny waved the information away. “I trade in transportation resources. You in the market for a ship, Deputy?”

“Not currently.”

Ronny had his back to the dark glass wall. Past him, I was able to use the reflection to watch the room around us, including the group at the bar. So far, nothing looked out of the ordinary for a private party.

Ronny grinned as if he thought a deputy buying a ship was funny. “What kind of cruiser they got you in? Is it Mark-IV? I could get you one of those for real cheap, off-service. They’re at least three generations out of date now.”

“That’s public service for you.” I wasn’t particularly amused by his passive-aggressive attempt to insult me.

“If you’re looking for a new opportunity, I can always use excellent people on my security team. We operate between Taurus Station and Bordo exclusively.”

I patted my stomach. “Me and zero-g don’t mix.”

In the window’s reflection, I watched Franca sit up suddenly, then I heard her gasp. Trix followed not long after. They both looked around, blinking in apparent confusion.

“I didn’t like that,” Trix said.

Franca laughed. “A short term buzz always leaves me feeling unfulfilled too. She stood then bent to help Trix to her feet. They both spotted me and Kiren with Ronny at the same time.

“He found us,” Franca called grinning.

Trix stumbled toward the bar. “I need a drink.”

I was still holding Kiren upright. She leaned against me, a slight smile on her lips.

Franca gave us an appraising glance as she approached. “I see Kiren made her feelings known.”

“What feelings are those?” Ronny asked.

“She has the hots for our Deputy.”

Ronny whistled and raised his eyebrows. “That’s valuable information. What would James Carthage think about that? Throwing away the business agreement of the century to wed a salt of the earth Sheriff’s Deputy.”

Now that Franca was back on her feet, I unpeeled Kiren’s arms off me and eased her toward the other woman.

Kiren slurred her complaint. “Are you all talking about me?”

“She needs some wake-up juice,” I told Franca. “Did somebody slip you something back at the club?”

“Probably. Everybody was handing her drinks as we walked around. It’s why I wanted to get her out of there. There are plenty of people who would love to get their hands on Kiren, and she wraps her mitts around you.”

In hindsight, I should have been watching for that kind of problem. Unable to do anything about it now, I spread my hands. “I’ve got no opinion one way or the other. I’m here to do a job.”

Franca nudged me with her elbow. “Relax, it was a joke. You are the most uptight person I know. You can’t joke at all, can you?”

I’d be able to crack jokes when I was finished with field training and the sheriff had pinned on my badge. Until I was sworn in, everything was a chance to fail, including flirtatious rich women.

“I’m on the clock,” I reminded her.

Ronny laughed. “Well, Mr. Clock, I take it you don’t want anything to alter your reality, so all I can offer you are the snack trays by the bar over there. Plenty of fine raw vegetables for you to sate all that pent-up tension with.”

“Thanks.”

Ronny reached inside his smoking jacket and withdrew a long cigarette holder that was already fitted with some tightly rolled bit of dried vegetation.

It was perfectly legal for a person to do anything they wanted to themselves on Taurus Station, from substances to body mods to selling portions of themselves if they wanted. The law got involved when people were coerced into anything against their will, damaged property, or harmed others… and there was plenty of overlap in the area of harm when drugs or human trafficking entered the picture.

Taurus Station’s permissive personal liberties were born from its frontier history and the economics of serving local mines and asteroid fields for hundreds of years. There were things off-shift miners were going to do whether they were legal or not, so the local government might as well get their cut and try to keep everything as safe as possible.

I didn’t care if anybody called me a stick in the mud. I knew what was at stake and I wasn’t going to screw up my chances at a future for a night of blanking out my reality. Taurus Station’s legal framework worked pretty well, I figured. From what I’d seen, the Sheriff’s Office had plenty of work to do without trying to enforce anybody’s morality.

As Franca eased Kiren to one of the couches so Trix could administer a stimulant, I inspected the food trays. Ronny’s mention had made my stomach rumble, and there was a lot more available than fresh veggies.

I had just loaded a plate with barbecued bits of protein and a skewer full of marinated mushrooms when a cracking sound came from the windows overlooking the street below. Because of the darkness outside, it took a second for me to realize there was a person on the other side of the window, dragging something against the glass. A tap followed the arcing screech, and the window fell away.

“Ellie, what have we got out there?”

Wind rushed in through the opening in the glass.

“I count five subjects armed with rifles,” she announced.

10

The attackers vaulted through the empty space where the window had been and hit the floor inside the apartment with weapons raised and ready. From the mismatched gear and unkempt appearances I didn’t get a military sense from the group.

A railing separated the window from the rest of the suite, forcing the men to either jump it or spread out.

Most people in the room were staring, while Ronny crossed his arms and laughed. I watched him move toward the couch where Kiren was still passed out. If he was scared, he was doing a good job of hiding the fact.

Not everyone had noticed what was happening, until someone at the bar screamed. Heads turned and the room went quiet except for the sound of wind rushing through the hole in the window.

Two more windows cracked and fell away, allowing more intruders to climb in.

“That looks like more than five, Ellie.”

What had Keldon told me about executive protection? Whatever happens, get them out.

I activated my emergency alert and sprinted for Kiren. I didn’t bother explaining anything to Franca or Trix—they could figure things out for themselves and follow.

One of the attackers noticed me moving and shouted at me to stop. I ignored him, throwing the still-intoxicated Kiren over my shoulder.

“Woah,” Kiren said, then laughed.

I ran for the exit hallway.

“Stop that one!” someone shouted after me.

A rifle barked, followed by more screaming. I didn’t have time to see if someone had been hit. I had to get Kiren out of the apartment and couldn’t afford to be trapped here.

I stumbled on a discarded shoe in the hallway and fell sideways into one of the massive paintings. Kiren laughed and slapped my ass as I struggled to keep my balance. Apparently the noise had woken her.

“Giddy-up!” she shouted.

Once I reached the apartment door, I activated its security panel and only realized my mistake too late.

The door opened on the grinning face of a man with a shaved head and lightning tattoos pointing down his cheeks. He pointed a handgun at my face.

“Back up, there,” he said. “No one leaves.”

“I show more coming up the hallway,” Ellie said.

I gritted my teeth. “Awesome.”

The tattoos looked like gang affiliations, but that part of my training escaped me for the moment. I stared at the bald man, weighing the possibility of charging through. A woman, also tattooed with similar markings, filled the doorway behind Baldy.

“Looks like we’ve got a cop,” Baldy said. He pointed the handgun at my badge and pistol, both plainly visible without my jacket.

“Those glasses are a cop visor,” the woman said. “Better grab those. It’s going to be tracking us already.”

Baldy laughed. “Let them track my ugly ass.”

“Let’s not get excited,” I said. “I don’t have anything to do with your party. I’m leaving.”

With Kiren over my shoulder, I couldn’t move fast enough to draw without getting shot. I was wearing armor, so I could take a few body hits without going down. But that didn’t protect Kiren, and she squirmed and giggled, making her hard to hold onto. Sure, she could take rounds to her legs and ass and survive, but that didn’t mean I would get anywhere once I was out in the hallway.

“You’re not going anywhere, cop,” Baldy said. “Take a step back.”

I took three steps back, but the distance didn’t stop the bald man from pressing forward to rip the glasses off my face. He held the mirror shades up to the ceiling light.

“I always wondered what cops see when they look at the world.” He cackled.

I gave him a tight smile. “They make everything look like donuts.”

“That’s good,” Baldy said. “I like that. You’re a funny cop. Maybe you’re a smart one, too. Now walk.”

I was at a disadvantage without my HUD but it wasn’t like the display had been giving me a lot of information anyway.

Whoever these people were, I could only guess they wanted to rob the people that lived in these luxury apartments. As long as everyone cooperated, the group would get their score and disappear. If they wanted something else and my backup didn’t arrive in time… I’d need another plan.

I wasn’t going to get anything in this hallway, and the giant smiling portraits were pissing me off. Thankfully Kiren had stopped moving, proving herself a smart drunk.

“I’m going,” I said. “No problems here.”

“Good.”

I backed down the hallway until I was back in the open room. Ronny was sitting on the floor in the middle of the lounge area, hands bound behind his back with a scarf stuffed in his mouth. Franca and Trix sat in a group of people near the bar.

Baldy pushed past me, waving his handgun as he inspected the room. He walked up to Ronny and looked down at him for a few seconds, then pointed the handgun at the man’s forehead and practiced sighting-in. Ronny stared straight ahead. It took me a second to realize our host was still high… or frightened out of his mind.

“You remember me?” Baldy asked.

When Ronny didn’t answer or look at him, the thug said, “Hey!”

Ronny shook himself like he’d been dozing and squinted up at Baldy.

“Clark,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”

“Not that long. You sold me a crap ship that killed half my crew. You remember that?”

Ronny blinked slowly. “It was running fine when you took possession. What did you do with it after that?”

“What did I do? I took it out for a run on a freighter line, nothing too taxing, and the engine went into an overload cascade. I’m not an engineer, but everybody I’ve talked to about the subsequent waves of radiation that fried my people says it was a containment bottle failure in the deuterium processing core. Like I said, that doesn’t mean shit to me, but it’s apparently a pretty basic fail as far as ship engines go. And I’m not one to make unfounded accusations, so I followed up on the registry of our ship and found out it was reconstructed out of Kiris. You sold me a scrapped ship for top dollar, Ron. That’s bad business where I come from.”

“Look,” Ronny said, his speech slowed from what I now knew had to be a drug of some kind. “I offer a thirty-day guarantee. I gave you full run of the ship prior to purchase. I even let you take it for a test drive. That’s all standard procedure, Clark. I can’t help what happens after you take possession. That’s standard business.”

“My people died,” Clark said.

Ronny’s eyes grew wider as he stared straight ahead. “I’m sorry, Clark.”

Clark turned and walked away from Ronny.

I tensed, seeing in Clark’s body language what was coming.

The bald man swung the handgun, its muzzle pointing at the people by the bar, and then back to the lounge.

“I’m pissed at you, Ronny,” he said. “I came here tonight for retribution. And I aim to get it.”

Clark shot Ronny in the thigh.

The bullet struck his thigh and blood spurted. He blinked again and looked down at the wound in awe.

“You shot me,” he said slowly. From the sound of it, whatever drug he’d taken was sparing him from the agony that should have accompanied being shot.

“And I’m shooting you again,” Clark spat.

Ronny’s other thigh took the next bullet.

“I know that should hurt, but I can’t feel it,” he said, sounding amazed. “I guess that’s some good shit. Who brought the E-Ride? I owe them. I owe them big time.”

“You owe me, you junky,” Clark snarled.

Ronny blinked up at him. “What do I owe you?”

The ship dealer was spurting blood. I didn’t figure he had long to live without serious medical intervention. His drug haze seemed to be separating his brain from the reality of the situation but it wouldn’t prevent his death.

“You could start with a new ship,” Clark said.

“I can’t.”

Clark glanced around the group of guests. “I guess I could kill some of your friends in trade.”

I stiffened, glancing at Franca and Trix. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman who had entered with Clark were still standing in the hallway. There were nine people in masks armed with rifles spread throughout the room, making twelve altogether. There may have been an equal number of guests, but I couldn’t see them all to count.

It had been ten minutes since Ellie sent the emergency alert. In any normal response, backup should have arrived by now. Had Clark and his team blocked the signal somehow?

I studied the long window. There was a balcony outside I hadn’t noticed before, and the black shape of a transport floated just beneath the outside railing. A transport this close to a residential building should have alerted any passing cruiser’s scan, unless building security was in on the attack. They could be blocking the outside signal, diverting scans from the face of the building. There were hundreds of ways to conceal activity in a building like this, and the occupants probably utilized most of them. Considering the area, there might not be any deputies around. Private security kept the peace in places like this.

“Ellie,” I murmured. “Did you get an answer on that beacon?”

“Return ping was positive,” she replied. “I think it may have been a false return.”

“Nobody’s here, so I think that’s a safe assumption. We’re on our own.”

“Assessing,” she said.

Kiren was getting heavy. I shifted slightly and she poked me in the small of the back to let me know she was awake.

Good girl.

I glanced at Franca and Trix to find them both watching me. Franca dropped her gaze to my pistol, which was half covered by Kiren’s legs, then looked back to my face. I gave her a slight nod.

I had no way to tell them that backup wasn’t coming, if that’s what they were assuming. In an ideal world, deputies would be raiding the apartment any minute.

Clark was still ranting at Ronny, leveling the handgun at the upper arm of his smoking jacket, when Trix burst to her feet in a single motion. She had cut her cuffs, and she turned with smooth motions, flinging knives into nine of the guards at the outer edge of the room.

Seven took blades in their faces or necks.

Holy shit.

Franca rolled away from the group and broke free of her cuffs. She sprinted to the nearest writhing guard and grabbed his rifle, then raised the weapon to her shoulder with practiced control and sighted on the remaining two masks. She took one down as the last slid behind a couch.

“What the hell?” Clark shouted.

“You shot me,” Ronny managed to mumble again, staring at his ruined legs. Reality seemed to be setting in as the pool of blood spread around him.

“Is the hallway clear now, Ellie?” I asked.

“I’m showing no movement. Everyone appears to have entered the apartment except for the transport pilot outside.”

“Still no sign of backup?”

“You appear to be alone.”

With Franca and Trix pinning down Clark’s crew, Ronny’s voice rising into a frantic wail, and Clark cursing the change of events, I adjusted my grip on Kiren’s legs and spun around to sprint down the hallway for the door.

Pain exploded across my forehead and I fell backward, still holding Kiren. Somebody kicked me in the back as I went down. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the tattooed woman holding what looked like a steel bar.

I rolled away, hindered by Kiren, who was also trying to get up now. Apparently, she was sobering a bit.

Clark advanced, leering at us. “Where the hell are you going? You can’t leave yet, cop.”

I rolled to my hands and knees then felt a yanking sensation at my belt and looked up to find Kiren holding my pistol in her hands.

Clark looked at her, still aiming his handgun at Ronny’s face.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

“You messed this up,” Kiren said.

“Why don’t you go ahead and put that down, sweetheart?” Clark didn’t look overly worried that the woman was pointing the gun at him.

Kiren squeezed the trigger with what would have been control, but the service weapon didn’t recognize her biosig. The safety locked the trigger in place, leaving her to squeeze even harder, then stare at the weapon in confusion.

She glanced at me. “What kind of shit is this, Gage?”

My head throbbed. I motioned for her to hand me the weapon, but she didn’t respond fast enough. I tried to reach for her, but my vision kept doubling and I reached for the wrong woman.

Clark raised his pistol and shot Franca in the shoulder, and then hit Trix in the leg.

The woman with the steel bar walked up behind Kiren and grabbed the pistol out of her hands. “You know who Kiren Carthage is, right boss?” she asked.

“If I knew, would I be standing here like an idiot?”

“Her dad owns Carthage Consolidated.”

Clark blinked. “As in James Carthage.”

“The one and only. I thought I read something about her getting married in the next couple days. She must be out sowing her wild oats. That’s why she’s got her own pet cop.”

Clark barked a laugh. “Lot of good that did.”

“I think Blades over there is worth money, too.”

Trix squeezed her bleeding leg. “Any of you touch me, I’m digging your eyes out.”

“Oh my. She’s a feisty one.” Clark grinned and gave Ronny a kick when the poor guy moaned, but he was too far gone to notice. “Now, let’s make sense of this situation.”

“It’s simple, Clark. We take her, tell Daddy to pay up, then we give her back.”

“I don’t like kidnappings, Cherise.” Clark said. “Too messy. You never get out like you think you will. The last thing we need is some rich mine owner with a vendetta.”

“This would be a big score,” Cherise said. “The kind of score that buys brand new Destroyers.”

“Destroyers? Get out of here.”

“Think about what we could do with that? No more hitting small fry freighters and cargo drones. We could get out between systems with a slip drive and make some real scores. We’d live on our own terms.”

My vision split again and I squinted to get a better look at Clark. The bald man’s head was cocked in the midst of a vision.

“I won’t lie, Cherise, that does sound like a pretty good life,” Clark said.

“You can see it, can’t you?” Cherise asked.

Clark’s tattooed face split into a wide grin. He was missing a few teeth. “I can really see it. Why am I wasting anger on a dirtbag like this when we’ve got a golden ticket right here?”

“Exactly.” Cherise nodded.

“We’ll need to run this past the boss.”

Cherise made a sour face. “Are you always going to be living in his shadow? He’s got his own deals. Why don’t you make yours? Grab your destiny by the balls.”

“That’s an excellent point, Cher.”

Clark shot Ron in the face. His body fell backward on the lounge floor, blood oozing from the hole in his skull. Whimpers from near the bar reminded me there were still people to be saved in the suite. I shook my head, struggling to clear it. When I looked at the floor, I found a small puddle of blood, apparently from my head.

“Let’s ride!” Clark shouted. “These three are together. I want them all.” He motioned at Franca, Trix, and Kiren with his pistol.

“What about the cop?” Cherise asked.

“I don’t care. Bash his head in.”

Four of the assailants who hadn’t been hit in vital areas grabbed Kiren and her friends. I got to my knees and the room spun around me.

I watched Kiren struggle until one of them cuffed her on the temple and her head flopped to the side. Clark’s men walked back to the holes in the window and carried them out.

I gripped the sides of my head. “Ellie, I need some help.”

“I am attempting to circumvent the signals blackout on this building. Backup is not coming, Deputy Walker.”

Cherise walked toward me, swinging her steel bar like she was loosening up for a leap ball game.

Clark stood at the railing by the window for another minute, examining the scene. He nodded at a job well done.

“You got the second transport,” he told Cherise, and ducked through the nearest hole.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Cherise said, turning to me.

11

I rolled to my left as the bar struck the ground where my head had been. I kicked, still half blind from the concussion, and my second strike connected. Cherise stumbled backward and caught herself on the wall.

I pushed up on my hands and knees, I fought through the pain until I was standing upright. Cherise roared and swung at me wildly, missing both times, then dropped her head and charged. I waited until she was too close to dodge and stepped to the side, catching her closest foot with my shin. She tumbled face-first.

I caught sight of my pistol tucked in her belt, but I focused on the steel bar. I couldn’t focus on much else. My vision was getting better but it was taking its damn time.

The bar looked like some kind of axle rod, polished smooth. One end was stained red with what I assumed was my blood. I shook my head again as my vision blurred.

As Cherise tried to regain her footing, I grabbed one of her knees and drove her backward. She gasped as I came down on top of her and the back of her head smacked the floor.

“Use of force seems pretty clear here,” I muttered to Ellie.

“She did try to kill you.”

“But is she still trying to kill me?” I asked.

“Affirmative, Deputy Walker,” Ellie said.

“Just wanted to make sure. I’m still on probation here.”

I was cursing myself for not carrying a secondary pistol somewhere in this fancy suit. I wanted nothing more than to shoot this woman and be done with it.

Cherise chose that moment to ram her fist into my gut, then brought the hand still holding the pipe around, trying to hit anything she could. I grunted as I grabbed her wrist and forced her arm down, then jerked my hand up to free the weapon from her belt. Cherise’s wrists were unexpectedly strong. I couldn’t bend her hand back to weaken it and had to resort to smashing her fist against the flooring, which didn’t hurt her as much as I had hoped.

“Cops,” she spat. “You’re weak. Physically weak. Mentally weak. Complacent. Bureaucratic—”

I surprised her by bringing the bar back against her head. The steel cracked on the crown of her skull, smearing fresh blood in her short hair.

Now she was slowing down. I pinned her underneath me and held her free hand with a knee, which allowed me to focus both hands on the bar. I had nearly twisted the weapon from her grasp when Cherise raised her head. She nuzzled her face into my crotch, and before I could move, she bit down hard on the shiny material with me inside it.

Her teeth closed on the inside of my thigh, thankfully, but it still felt like I was stabbed. I finally twisted the bar free from her hand and held it in my fist as I punched her temple. I didn’t want to kill her if I didn’t have to.

After three good hits, Cherise passed out and her jaw loosened. I grabbed her hair and pulled her head free, then rolled her over and grabbed my pistol.

Having the service pistol back in my hand brought a huge wave of relief, even as Cherise started struggling against my knee in her back. I panted, catching my breath, and bore my weight down between her shoulder blades. Ribs cracked and she gasped.

“Who do you work for?” I asked.

She turned her head to the side and spat blood. “Clark.”

“And who does Clark work for?”

“Himself.”

“Don’t give me that crap. All the lies about not knowing who Kiren is. You knew the minute you saw her.”

“Go to hell.”

I held the steel bar at both ends and pressed its length against the side of her head, pinning Cherise against the floor. I leaned down so my face was close to hers, adrenaline pumping through my body. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I wanted the information she was withholding.

“Remember use of force policy, Deputy Walker,” Ellie reminded me.

“I know. I know.”

I forced myself to breathe, blinking sweat out of my eyes. I wasn’t going to kill her, just get information. Kiren was gone, and this woman could tell me where to find her.

Cherise pushed her tongue out to dry her wet lips, then she wheezed beneath my weight. “Do the right thing, Deputy.”

I paused, knowing she was manipulating me. The problem was, it was working. I did want to do the right thing. I didn’t want to torture anyone. I didn’t want revenge. I wanted to know where Clark was taking Kiren.

Big picture, Keldon would say.

There was a second transport, I remembered Clark telling her. Which meant it would have location data in its nav systems. All I needed was access.

There we go. Now you’re thinking, Gage.

I straightened, taking a deep breath, then I released the pressure from Cherise’s cheekbone and she laughed.

“That’s right. You want to do the right thing, don’t you, cop? Remember how I said you were weak?”

I hit her again, making her head bounce off the floor. Cherise went out, eyes rolling back in her head.

“Justified force?” I asked Ellie.

“Record unresolved,” the AI responded, which probably meant she was doing me a favor by not recording one way or the other.

I spotted my shades lying against the wall beneath one of the giant smiling photos and climbed off Cherise to retrieve them.

“Nice to see you guys,” I said, slipping them back on my face. I was greeted by the update that my emergency beacon had failed to transmit.

Looking around the suite, I spotted several partygoers still cowering against the bar, watching me. One of the bandits Trix had stabbed lay nearby, several plastic handcuffs hanging from their belt.

I re-sent the beacon and received immediate acknowledgement this time.

“Don’t worry,” I told a man behind the bar. “Help is on the way. Stay where you are.”

Crossing the room, I grabbed a set of handcuffs off one of the dead bandits and used them to restrain Cherise. She moaned as I moved her but didn’t show signs of waking up. In her shirt pocket I found the access token I needed for the second transport.

I got the attention of a beefy looking woman by the bar and said, “Don’t let her leave.”

The woman gave me a blank look until she realized I was talking about Cherise.

“And don’t hurt her,” I clarified. “Unless she tries to hurt you.”

“She already hurt me,” the woman said. “My wrists are bleeding.”

I shook my head and pointed at the woman. “Do the right thing.”

She gave me a frustrated grimace and nodded.

With help on the way, I climbed over the railing in front of the glass wall. Closer to the holes Clark’s gang had cut in the windows, I shivered under the blasts of cold air from outside. I ducked through one of the holes and stood on the balcony, where a rugged transport waited. The vehicle was a dull black and covered in cargo containers to mask its true shape.

I sent the transport a connection command using Cherise’s key. Ellie accessed its internal control network, and a second later the side hatch lifted open.

“Anything in there going to kill me?” I asked.

“It appears to be a standard low-orbit transport,” she said.

“You mean this thing is space-capable?”

“Affirmative, though only for short distances.”

“Let’s avoid zero-g if we can, otherwise you’re going to be cleaning puke off the cabin.”

I jumped from the balcony to the open hatch and climbed through a short cargo area into the pilot’s seat, then I buckled in.

“Can we get a list of recent destinations?” I asked Ellie.

“Main cargo docks,” Elie reported. “I also have tracking data on the other transport.”

“Hell yes. Finally, some good news.”

“And it appears the exit route was pre-planned. Would you like me to follow it?”

That was sloppy, but good for me. “Yes, I would. Thank you very much.”

I locked the transport’s hatch and dropped from the face of the apartment complex. Ellie set the navigation system on the preset path but increased speed using our override codes. Her next trick was locating Clark’s transport using the communications logs.

I pulled up a map of the sector and sorted through streets until a glowing icon became visible: a tight formation of three cruisers, all covered in a crust of cargo containers, headed in the direction of the station docks.

“Bingo. Set the tracking lock, Ellie.”

“Done. Updating Dispatch.”

“Right. We should do that, shouldn’t we?”

With the tracking lock in place, we shot after Clark and his friends. The transport handled navigation until we entered busier sections and I had to take over, locking outside vehicles out of intersections. The other drivers shouldn’t know I was law enforcement, but from the way they were running, something had given me away.

Despite its rough disguise, the transport handled better than a patrol cruiser. It had better acceleration, which probably sacrificed armor and sensors. Speed was what I needed right now, and thankfully this thing was a beast. In five minutes, I had closed on Clark’s position, and then I was behind the kidnapper.

We were ten minutes from the main docks, in an open two-lane street through Taurus Station’s old industrial zone. Drones made up most of the traffic through this area, shuttling cargo from the docks to distribution centers closer to the active areas of the station.

I was closing on Clark’s vehicle when a call came through Dispatch from the Watch Commander. “Walker, I’ve got a quick reaction force at the apartment you called in. It’s a combat zone there. What happened to you?”

“It was a kidnapping. I’m in pursuit right now. Do you have my location?”

“I’ve got you. I’m sending two cruisers.”

“Wait. Here’s the target.” I sent the tracking data on Clark’s three transports. The problem was, I didn’t know which vehicle was carrying Kiren. They might split up any minute, or get fired on by trigger-happy newcomers.

Sure enough, as soon as I sent the tracking info, the three icons split up on my viewscreen.

“I’m losing them,” I snapped.

“Calm down. We’re getting you some help.” The sergeant’s name was Kan. He sounded confident but tired.

“Which one should we follow?” I asked Ellie.

“Checking speed signatures now.”

“You think the faster transports are carrying fewer people?”

“That would be a safe estimate, Deputy Walker,” she said.

“Don’t get sassy with me, Ellie!”

“Sass is not in my skill set.”

Two of the tracking icons disappeared into industrial zones on either side of the road, while the third reversed velocity.

I cursed, understanding immediately what that meant. “He’s turning to fight.”

“You got any weapons on that thing?” Kan asked. I forgot he was still monitoring my comms.

I checked the console. I should have looked for offensive capabilities earlier, damn it. In the navigation subsystem, I found the combat controls for two twenty-millimeter chain guns on either side of the transport and a railgun running the body of the vehicle. I passed the info to Sergeant Kan.

“Dang,” I muttered, impressed. “Can I keep this thing?”

“I recommend using the railgun while they’re closing on your position,” the sergeant said. “We’ll only have one chance with our most damage producing weapon.”

“What if my VIP is in that attacking ship?”

“Good point.” Kan paused. “Disable them with the chain guns then. How much experience do you have with vehicular combat?”

“Six hours in the academy.”

“That’s no good. We need to get you on a special team. If you survive this. And graduate field training.” Kan paused. “How did you get this assignment again?”

The bandit’s vehicle would be on me in a minute. I air-braked and pointed my transport for the upper bounds of the street, hoping the other transport couldn’t climb in time.

I picked up the visual pinpoint of the inbound ship on the viewscreen, engines blazing. Activating every scanning system I had, I waited for Ellie’s mass and environmental scans to verify crew size, then I brought up the combat control system and waited, sweaty thumbs on the triggers.

“I confirm a single occupant,” Ellie said.

“Thank you.”

I quickly switched to the railgun and locked on the incoming ship, set the attack system to engage at maximum effective range and watched the lock timer countdown.

Four, three, two—

The oncoming transport crossed my railgun’s firing threshold. My console flickered from the railgun’s power drain as the blast left the nose. In a split second, the oncoming driver lost power, velocity fading, its crew area and engines burned out by the kinetic attack.

“Whoa,” I said.

The icon continued to slow in my display and finally drifted into a line of cargo drones, forcing them to route around.

“Got it,” I told the sergeant.

“Good. We’re tracking the other ships. I’ve been authorized to order you to come in for a debrief.”

I shifted to the tracking system and pulled up the two remaining bandit icons that were heading in opposite directions from my location. One seemed bound for the docks, and the other was heading back for Taurus Station’s tourist sections. If they were leaving station, the docks would be the obvious choice, while anyone trying to hide would find better opportunities in the casinos and hotels.

“I can follow one of them at least,” I argued. “Two of my executives were wounded. I don’t have a lot of time to find them.”

Another voice cut in that I didn’t recognize. A woman. “We’ll find them, recruit,” the voice said, emphasizing my lack of rank. “You get back here like you’ve been ordered. We’ll need a full debrief.”

The comms readout said the speaker was a Lieutenant Bird. I didn’t recognize the name, but Kan didn’t say anything in my defense.

I punched my console. I’d failed.

Kan said in a softer tone, “You’ve done everything you could for now. Let the department do some work on your behalf. We’ve got them on tracking. There isn’t anywhere they can go on Taurus that we won’t find them.”

I cut the comms link.

“Hope isn’t a plan,” I told the dead air.

With a sinking sense of failure, I turned the transport for main station and set the autopilot, then I let my head fall back and closed my eyes to calm the spinning behind my eyes.

I was halfway back when a comms request from Keldon lit my screen. I cracked my eyelids and answered the request.

“You all right, kid?”

“I think I’ve got a concussion. A woman hit me with a metal bar.”

“That sucks. Listen, don’t go back to the department. Meet me at Drake’s. All hell is breaking loose and we need a plan.”

12

I rested my aching head against the back wall of the booth at Drake’s. Very slowly, I rubbed my temples, not sure if it was actually helping. I’d been explaining the last twelve hours to Keldon and the more I talked, the more my head throbbed.

“You need a medic?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Any update from Patrol?”

Keldon shook his head. “The kidnappers are gone.”

I cupped a hand around my ear. “Hear that? That’s the sound of my career flying away.”

Drake arrived to set two beers on the scarred table. “You don’t look so good, kid. If you’re going to die, don’t do it in my bar.”

“I’ll try.” I held the cold glass against my forehead, then took a long drink.

Bree shouted at her dad from the bar.

He waved at her as he gave me a hard look. “I’ve got a medical scanner in the back if you think you’re going to need it.”

“I’m fine,” I said.

“I’m talking to your sergeant. You won’t be the first one to get checked out in the back before going back on duty.”

“I’ll bring him back if he passes out on me,” Keldon said.

When Drake was gone, Keldon emptied half his glass and set it down. “You didn’t screw up, Gage. I think you’ve done better than they expected. You’ve been set up.”

I squinted. “What?”

“She was obviously doing her best to lose you at the party. If the person you’re supposed to be protecting doesn’t want you along, there isn’t much you can do about it. But you got after her and threw a wrench in their plans. Now tell me again how you knew it was a kidnapping?”

I took another drink. “Because she ended up kidnapped at the end?”

Keldon snorted. “I’ll give you that. Now, go through what you saw. When you started describing things, you said you thought it was a robbery. What changed?”

I probably hadn’t been talking clearly, between the fading adrenaline and my throbbing head. I couldn’t remember how I had described the shift from a robbery of a bunch of elites to the thugs grabbing Kiren.

My head was feeling a little better, or the first beer was doing its job. The lights didn’t feel like knives in my eyes, anyway. I took a deep breath and walked through how Kiren had given up her identity, Cherise knew who she was, and then everything shifted from a revenge plus robbery to a corporate kidnapping.

“And there were three vehicles all together,” Keldon said. “Where did Clark shoot Ronny at first?”

“The legs,” I said. “Tops of his thighs. Lots of blood.”

“Right. Superficial wounds.”

Remembering the grisly scene, I blanched. “They sure didn’t look superficial.”

“But you said Ronny was high and acting like he didn’t feel it.”

“That’s right.”

Gears started clicking in my head. The extra transport could mean they had planned on taking someone from the apartment in the first place, and it obviously hadn’t been Ronny.

“Where’s the handgun Carthage gave you?” Keldon asked.

“Back at my apartment.”

“I’ll bet you it’s more than a pistol. We don’t have time to dig into that right now. The Sheriff is going to call any minute for a debrief.”

My throat got tight. “He already knows?”

“Of course. The question is how long until Carthage knows, and then how is he going to play this against the Sheriff? What’s obvious is that we’ve been set up to fail. What doesn’t make sense is why Sheriff Nagel agreed to this in the first place, and what Carthage ultimately wants.”

“Maybe the business connection is a fluke.”

“He could call that off anytime without endangering his daughter.”

“There was something off about Kiren and her friends,” I said. “They did something strange—just once—but it’s odd they would do it in front of me.”

“What?” Keldon prompted.

“Kiren bought something from a clerk in one of the stores we visited yesterday—or she paid him anyway. They all acted like a crew doing a deal.”

Keldon shook his head. “Probably just drugs for the party.”

“But why wait until I would be there? Why not have someone else do it for her? She’s a trillionaire’s daughter.”

“Could be a thrill seeker.”

I shook my head, frustrated. “That seems too easy.”

“People aren’t complicated, Gage. When I first started, I wanted everything to be some complicated conspiracy. I couldn’t figure out why criminals would do things that didn’t actually make money, or why they acted so stupidly. My training officer told me something I’ve never forgotten.”

“What’s that?”

“She said: ‘Keldon, they don’t think like you do. You’re a good person.’”

“You think Kiren Carthage is a criminal?”

“I didn’t say that. But don’t create complicated motives where it’s probably just getting back at mommy and daddy. That, or sex, drugs, or money.”

Taking another long breath, I probed my temples again. The throbbing was almost gone now. I ran a hand across my scalp and was surprised to find a clot of dried blood and hair.

“I should probably clean up,” I said.

“Nope. Have another beer. I want you to look like you fought off twenty thugs when we go into the Sheriff’s office.”

“Won’t that just make me look incompetent?”

“Trust me,” Keldon said. “We’ll get you a scan just to make sure you didn’t break anything loose, though.”

After the next beer, Keldon took me to the medical scanner. To my surprise, Bree was there. When she strapped me into the med couch, I lay back and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the prickling feeling to pass over my skin.

“You look like hell,” she said.

Dozing off, I only half heard her. “Thanks, you too,” I said.

She hit my shoulder.

“Ow!”

“Shut up and sit still.”

The tingling scan wave passed over my head and shoulders and I fell asleep almost immediately, only to wake from a slap to the side of my face.

“Wake up,” Keldon said. “You don’t have a concussion.”

I blinked as I sat up. Bree was gone.

“How long was I out?”

“An hour. I just got the call from the chief. I also did some research of my own. The tattoos on Clark’s face? I don’t have an ID on him, but they match a gang active in the Chop. Your boy Ronny also has ties to it.”

The Chop Zone, or CZ, was a nearby sector of space crowded with abandoned ships, habitats, and materials from throughout the mining district’s history. Anything a company didn’t want, they dumped in the Chop. A thriving community of squatters, pirates, and criminal syndicates made their homes there, and the Sheriff turned a mostly blind eye as long as Chop activities didn’t affect Taurus Station or the mining operations.

“If he’s in the CZ, why don’t we have any ID info?”

“Same reason you couldn’t track Kiren from the club to Ronny’s place. Somebody erased it.”

I stood and stretched aching muscles. A new collection of pains complained from my neck to my knees. “You’re starting to make me doubt the effectiveness of our technology.”

“You were the one chasing a meshie. What do you think they’re up to? Let’s call that our training note for the day. You can journal about it on the ride over to the department.”

“Damn it,” I said. “I thought I was done with journals.”

Keldon slapped me on the back and I winced. He laughed. “You still owe me journals for the last twenty-four hours. Let’s go, trainee.”

13

Sheriff Nagel leaned forward, fingers steepled in front of his nose, and glared at the near distance. We stood at parade rest in front of the Sheriff’s metal desk, sounds from the bullpen behind us filling the quiet in the office.

“Here’s the thing,” Nagel said abruptly. “I set you up.”

“I figured that,” Keldon said.

“I didn’t tell you to talk, sergeant.”

“Yes, Sheriff.”

“Close your mouth and open your ears. I know that’s hard for you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Keldon flex his jaw as he visibly held his tongue. The sergeant’s face was flushed with anger that I hadn’t seen before.

“James Carthage tells me he wants security for his daughter’s party. I tell him that’s going to take fifty of my deputies. That’s going to cost you overtime. Carthage says to me he’s got his own security. He wants one of my deputies just so Kiren knows he’s watching her, but she won’t see the truth of it.”

This information made sense. The party had been flooded with private security that I assumed belonged to the club. I should have taken the time to talk to more of the private security people. There were only so many providers on Taurus that could cover an event that size. I might have learned about Carthage’s plan. It also explained why the guard at the door was so willing to stand up to me.

“We all know how that worked out,” Keldon said.

Nagel shushed him with a finger. “That’s why I sent our trainee here. His career isn’t going to suffer for this. No one is going to remember. I’m the supervisor who sent him into this mess. But I’m not worried about my deputy. Now I’ve got a high-profile kidnapping case on my hands. The only good news is that it hasn’t hit the feeds yet, and as far as I’m aware, Carthage doesn’t know.”

“His people are going to tell him soon enough if they’re any good,” Keldon said.

“That’s very true. But I’m not going to waste time with that. Our boy Gage here is going to go inform the father of the victim that the Taurus Station Sheriff’s Office is on the case.”

I’m sure my eyes went round as plates. I imagined standing in front of Carthage with that kind of news, and him blowing my head off with another of his oversized hand cannons.

Keldon shook his head. “You’re trying to get him killed?”

“Carthage isn’t going to do anything to me or mine. One call from me and some very sensitive information will find its way to people higher than him.”

“You say that, Sheriff, and I believe you, but that doesn’t protect Walker now if Carthage decides to test you.”

“Damn it,” Nagel snarled. He pounded the desk and stood, then he stalked the room like a caged animal. He passed behind us, and I did my best to keep staring forward. I half expected him to hit me in the back of the head, though I wasn’t the one arguing with him.

“We know they went into the CZ,” Keldon said, breaking the silence. “I’ve got TechDiv tearing apart the vehicle Deputy Walker commandeered. We don’t have their location pinpointed yet, but we’ll have it soon. Let me lead a task force into the Chop. We’ll pull Ms. Carthage out of that pit and deliver her in time for her wedding. All I need is the firepower.”

“Firepower,” Nagel growled, still standing outside my view. “That’s your answer?”

“Controlled violence has its uses, Sheriff.”

“This hasn’t even hit the newsfeeds yet, and you want to start a war in the CZ. Is a rich man’s adult child worth that kind of risk? We set them off, and we could end up with an uprising.”

Keldon fell silent, obviously thinking.

I opened my mouth to speak and stopped. Unfortunately, the Sheriff saw the movement. He stood next to me and glared at the side of my face.

“What did you want to say, Walker? Spit it out.”

“Well, Sheriff,” I said. “It seems we’ve got a third actor here. We don’t know who kidnapped Kiren Carthage or why. That’s an investigation.”

“Are you trying to school me on basic police procedure, trainee?” the Sheriff asked.

“I wouldn’t presume to do that, sir.”

“Good. Of course this is an investigation. We’ve got a rogue element attacking our businesspeople. That’s a problem. The question is whether or not James Carthage knew about this threat and was working to hang his liability on us. That’s probably exactly what he did, and I’m going to have to get in my dress uniform to deal with the news feeds. And I hate wearing my dress uniform.”

“Yes, Sheriff,” I said.

“Yes, what? You hate my dress uniform, too? You think it makes me look pudgy?”

I clamped my mouth closed.

“It makes you look fat because it doesn’t fit right,” Keldon said. “Go get it tailored.”

Nagel snorted. “I had it tailored. Anyway, you’re right, Deputy Walker. We are operating in a low information environment. I need you to go talk to James Carthage and find out who has any motive whatsoever to kidnap his daughter. I don’t care if he tells you it’s space faeries, you’re going to chase down those leads and get me a plan to move forward. When I go in front of those newsfeeds, I better have something to brief or it’s both your asses.”

“Why him?” Keldon asked. “You’ve got detectives to do this sort of thing. Hell, I spent seven years riding a detective’s desk. I’ll go talk to the old asshole.”

Nagel moved behind his desk and shook his finger at the sergeant. “Not you. Carthage wanted our deputy here, so Walker’s doing it. He can report back to you, but I don’t want Carthage getting confused on who to be angry at. As far as Carthage is concerned, Deputy Walker is his whipping post. Understood?”

Great. I swallowed hard. “Yes, Sheriff.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes, Sheriff,” I said, loud enough to be heard back in the bullpen.

“Dismissed,” Nagel barked. “Don’t come back here until you’ve got my information. Which, by the way, I need yesterday. Now go.”

We snapped to attention together, and I exited the office just behind Keldon.

In the lift, I rubbed my throbbing temples where the headache had returned. “What are we going to do?” I asked Keldon.

Keldon shook his head. “We’re going down to the duty cruiser so you can finish your training journal for today. Then we’re going out to James Carthage’s office so you can brief him like the Sheriff told you to do.”

“I have to journal, really?”

“I’ll be damned if your training file isn’t complete, so shut up.”

14

The owner of Carthage Consolidated wasn’t at his office. I stood at the facilities entrance to Carthage’s main office, waiting as a drone sent the communications request. I should have asked Sheriff Nagel to set up the meeting, but that would have tipped off Carthage about the bad news. I didn’t know whether that was better or worse.

The drone chimed and Carthage’s tinny voice barked from a speaker in the wall. “What do you want?”

I leaned forward, unsure where the microphone was hidden. “Mr. Carthage, this is Deputy Walker. We met yesterday.”

“I know who you are. You think I’m senile?”

“No, Mr. Carthage.” I paused, then pushed onward. “I have some news I need to share with you. In person.”

“In person? Why aren’t you with Kiren?”

“It’s about Kiren, Mr. Carthage.”

The speaker hissed static. “I’m sending the drone my location data. Get over here immediately. I’m busy.”

The connection cut off. I waited as the blunt-faced drone received the location data and repeated it.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Carthage builds the future!” the drone said.

The coordinates were for an apartment complex on the far side of Taurus, near an old section of casinos and hotels from when the station first opened. I leaned back as the cruiser followed its set path, doing my best to calm my hammering heart.

Breathe slowly. In and out.

My head didn’t hurt anymore, and I’d had a shower and a fresh set of clothes, but I still felt deeply tired. The feeling wasn’t fatigue, even though I couldn’t remember when I’d slept last, but more a sense of impending doom that I’d never experienced before. The closest feeling was when I’d seen the Mine Administrator arrive at my school, and none of the high schoolers had known who the bland-faced man was there to see. When the teacher called my name, I felt a bit of release, followed by a feeling of weightlessness. I knew back then my life was going to change.

And when that bureaucratic asshole told me it was both Mom and Dad, I felt like a cosmic boot was grinding me under its heel, and then kicking me away, leaving me alone in the world. There were no laws, no rules, no justice—only people that got ground up and those that did the grinding… and then assholes who came and half-smiled as they shared the news.

The administrator had left me with a data brochure listing my various benefits, including employment information for Carthage Mining.

Meeting James Carthage felt too abstract, too separated from that life. There were whole strata of bureaucrats between Carthage and that administrator, who functioned in a world of vague personal responsibility, blaming every terrible thing he did on the person above him, all the way up. I didn’t want anything to do with a world like that, but here I was.

I had hoped being a deputy might balance out a world of asshole bureaucrats. Maybe I was wrong.

The cruiser came to a stop at a gate on the end of a deserted corridor. I sent the access code and the black gates opened, letting me through. I watched the location data wind down to my destination in front of Carthage’s faceless apartment stack.

“You got my location, Ellie?” I asked, checking in.

“Logged and in service.”

I exited the cruiser and set it to defensive mode, then walked through the empty front of the building to its lift. The place felt like a mausoleum, empty and cold, though multiple layers of active scan tickled my skin as I walked. The lift security panel verified me, and I rose.

At the top floor, I walked down an empty hallway with tile floors until I reached Carthage’s address. The security panel noted my presence, calling me Gage Walker, not Deputy Walker, and the door slid open to a hallway that reminded me of Ronny’s place, only the walls were bare and there were no discarded shoes. All these elite apartments were starting to look the same.

James Carthage was standing in front of the image of a roaring fireplace at one side of an otherwise empty, rectangular room. The walls were black marble. I almost laughed at the repeat of the dramatic scene at his office.

“Mr. Carthage,” I said, walking toward him.

Carthage looked at me, his movement delayed slightly. I noticed the tumbler in the man’s right hand, half filled with brown liquor.

“Walker,” Carthage said, staring into the image of the fireplace. “You ever been burned?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“That’s an interesting thing about modern living. We’re disconnected from basic realities of existence. Somewhere in our lost history, man discovered fire. Getting from there to where we are now had to have been one hell of a journey. Can you imagine not having any of the luxuries you enjoy today? And here we are, insulated from everything. Taurus Station is just a big fuzzy blanket for the soul. All of it false. Catering. Condescending. What do you think about that?”

“I’m not much of a philosopher, Mr. Carthage. I prefer to cut to the truth. I have some bad news for you.”

Carthage raised the tumbler and gulped, nearly emptying it. “Now tell me about Kiren, my daughter, my heart, my gift to the future.”

He knows.

What I couldn’t tell was if Carthage was bitter or just drunk.

“She’s been taken, Mr. Carthage,” I said anyway, doing my job. “The Sheriff is focusing the full resources of the department on your case. We have a vehicle that belonged to the criminal group that originates in the CZ. That’s where we’re focusing our investigation. We’ll get her back.”

The artificial fire blazed like it was attached to Carthage’s mood. He stared at me with bloodshot eyes. “Were you there?”

I nodded. “I’m sorry, Mr. Carthage. I did everything I could.”

“You’re still alive, so obviously not.”

Silently, I thanked Keldon for making me go see the Sheriff. If I hadn’t heard Nagel’s take on the situation, that there was something more here that went beyond kidnapping, I’d have been tearing myself up inside for my failure. While I still felt terrible for Kiren and wanted to find her, I also realized that Carthage was hiding something.

I cleared my throat. “Mr. Carthage, I’m here to take a statement. Are you able to answer a few questions?”

“No, I’m not going to answer questions.”

“Every bit of information we can get will help this investigation. If you’d prefer, I can have a detective come back to speak with you. I understand if I’m not the person you want to see right now.”

Carthage went to the wall beside the fireplace and pressed a panel. A sideboard lined with bottles appeared and he refilled his tumbler. His hands were shaking.

“I don’t have anything to say.”

I wanted to get him talking. I ran back through the few classes on interviewing subjects I’d received at the Academy. Everything there had been about subjects in the field, service contacts with people who had just experienced accidents, burglaries, people who wanted to give up as much information as possible. As usual, I found myself falling back on Keldon’s advice: Keep it simple. Ask questions like you’re a first grader… which led me back to the plain speech of my parents, the mining rig. On a mining op, there was no time for lies or obfuscation, and liars usually revealed themselves through their own mistakes. Accidents killed them for it.

Still, I was out of my league. I was here because the Sheriff and Carthage expected me to fail.

“Ellie, begin evidence lock.”

“Evidence lock confirmed.”

“Mr. Carthage, you felt there was some need for security,” I said. “Were there any other threats against your daughter that you didn’t share with Sheriff Nagel?”

Carthage narrowed his eyes. “Nothing. I hired you as a babysitter. You were supposed to keep Kiren out of trouble. I never expected a kidnapping. There’s been no indication, nothing.”

“When was the last time you spoke with your daughter?”

Carthage grimaced. “I don’t remember.”

“What made you think she needed a babysitter, then?”

“Apparently you didn’t do any homework on her, did you? My daughter has several businesses of her own. She has attacked elements of my core business in the past by squeezing supply lines and contracts. She hides these movements from me until it’s time to sit down at the bargaining table. She’s shrewd.”

“You haven’t mentioned her mother.”

“Kiren is all mine. I brought her into this world. I made her what she is.”

“Did you pressure her into the upcoming marriage?”

Carthage snorted. “Did she tell you that?”

“She hardly mentioned the marriage at all, Mr. Carthage. She seemed focused on the party and talked very little about what was coming afterward.”

“The marriage is her idea.”

Now that was interesting. Everything he’d said matched my opinion of Kiren, except that the marriage had been her idea. As I thought about it, I really couldn’t recall her mentioning her future husband’s name.

“Do you see the marriage being related to a threat of kidnapping?”

“If someone was trying to hurt me while my name is already all over the newsfeeds, this is a better time than others. We timed the wedding to fall before our earnings reports.”

“Are earnings up?” I asked.

“No. The wedding should shore up shareholder concerns. But overall production has been down. I don’t suppose a sheriff’s deputy would follow commodities.”

“No,” I said, ignoring the insult. “Thank you for explaining.”

Carthage emptied his glass again. “I know how long you’ve been involved with the station’s police total, but tell me how long you’ve been working for Nagel?”

I’d told him the last time we met. “I’ve been out of the academy seven weeks.”

“You mean you aren’t even sworn yet?”

Did he even know what that meant? “Three weeks left of field training,” I said.

“That’s right. You’re exactly what I wanted him to send me, and it blew up in my face. What did Kiren say when she saw you?”

“What do you mean?”

“When she first saw you. What did she say?”

“She said I looked delicious.”

Carthage laughed. “Maybe it’s time I hand all this over to her. She’s hungry. Hungrier than I am. Carthage should span systems now.”

“Do you know of any illegal activities Kiren might have been engaged in? Anything on Taurus?”

Carthage’s voice was flat. “No.”

I wasn’t going to accept that. I wasted another fifteen minutes trying to pry information out of him, only to get nothing. The business man grew increasingly drunk. He stumbled back to a couch that emerged from the marble wall and sprawled with a new drink in his hand.

He railed about sending his daughter to the best schools, about her multiple degrees in business, her exchange with the Boros Corporation. A picture emerged of a driven father who had expressed his love for his child by pushing her harder and harder… and she had delivered. Now she was using it all against him.

What was strange was that Carthage didn’t seem very troubled by the idea of Kiren being held prisoner somewhere. I didn’t want to emphasize that gangs in the Zone killed as many victims as they successfully ransomed, and Carthage didn’t ask.

“Mr. Carthage, is there anyone else I should talk to? Any business rival or group that would have reason to hurt you or your family?”

“Talk to Joyce. He wants me dead.”

“Has he ever made threats to you personally?”

“Every damn day.”

“His son was about to marry your daughter.”

Carthage laughed bitterly. “Exactly.”

I asked Ellie to attach Harvey Joyce to the evidence record. When I glanced back at Carthage, he was snoring. His arm fell from the edge of the couch and the tumbler rolled across the marble floor.

Standing in the middle of the long, empty room, I stared into the image of fire Carthage had been so enamored of earlier and closed the interview.

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for this asshole?” I muttered.

“Do you require mental health assistance, Deputy Walker?” the AI asked.

“You say you can’t make jokes, but I think that’s a lie.”

“Sarcasm detected. I’m sending your logfile to TechDiv, Deputy Walker. That is the extent of my current assistance.”

“Hold on a second. Can you tell me if Carthage was lying?”

“Vocal analysis indicates James Carthage was telling the truth.”

I flagged Ellie’s file for priority assessment. As a trainee, I expected the request to require Keldon’s approval. I was surprised when the file went to the top of the evidence queue. Maybe Nagel was watching.

Standing outside Carthage’s apartment building as I waited for the cruiser to return, I checked in with TechDiv to see if there were any updates on Clark’s location.

Nothing.

TechDiv had also started checking the personal data feeds for Kiren, Franca, and Trix. Each one had cut off not long after leaving Ronny’s apartment, which meant Clark and his people had either killed their hostages, or were using blocking tech to hide their feeds. There had also been no ransom notice or other statement from the criminal group, which made Investigations believe this was motivated by a business rival or some other inside purpose that Carthage wasn’t sharing outright.

I hoped Investigation might find something in Carthage’s interview that I hadn’t heard. They would cross-reference the statement, tracking Carthage’s emotional state throughout the whole thing.

Maybe I was disappointed that James Carthage wasn’t the monster I’d imagined him when I was a kid. He was just a lonely asshole, and apparently lonely assholes ran the world. One thing was for sure—I didn’t believe he had anything to do with Kiren’s abduction.

The cruiser arrived just as I received the info file for Harvey Joyce, CEO of J-Tech Amalgamated.

The cruiser’s hatch opened and Keldon grinned at me from the pilot’s seat.

“You here to tell me I failed field training?” I asked.

“Nope. Normally, we wouldn’t send an investigator into a situation like this. Carthage is his own special case of messed up. I just skimmed your footage. You did the best you could. Why is it corporations are all run by crazy people?”

I slid into the passenger seat. “Does it make you feel better to think that?”

“Yup,” Keldon said. “Need to feel superior somehow.”

“We’re cops. Everyone accuses us of acting superior.”

Keldon laughed.

15

Morning cycle was filling the corridors with early rising tourists when we reached the J-Tech offices on the outer edge of Taurus. I’d dozed for most of the trip, but I woke from a stupor when the cruiser slowed or made a few hard turns.

“Wake up,” Keldon said. “Slap your face a little bit. You still feel like you’ve got a concussion?”

I shook my head and stretched in the seat. “Just sleepy.”

“We’ll get you some downtime after this. Once TechDiv cracks the kidnapper’s location, and they will, we’ll have a bit of planning time for the extraction.”

“I’m not sleeping during that.”

“Oh, you think you’re on the Tactics team now?”

I dropped back in my seat, realizing I might not be able to actually go after Kiren. “This is my case.”

“Case? You don’t have a case. You’re a trainee. You’re working directly for the Sheriff in a strange way that I’ve never seen before, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be doing anything outside the capacity of your training or assignment. You understand?”

“Yes, sergeant.”

“Don’t start getting uppity on me, Walker. You’re a trainee in this department, not some special agent assigned by the godsdamned Union. You work for me.”

“Yes, sergeant.”

“My pleasure is your desire.”

I cracked a smile. “You’re getting weird on me, sergeant.”

“Hell, yes. I am. Don’t trust anybody. The only thing trust gets you is a sore throat.”

I frowned, not quite understanding. I answered anyway: “Yes, sergeant.”

Keldon nodded toward the front of the J-Tech headquarters. “Now, we’re going to go in there and talk to Mr. Joyce, and hope he has nothing to do with this kidnapping. Because I don’t want anything to do with a battle between corporations. That’s not what I get paid to deal with.”

“You get paid to deal with me.”

“That’s right. I get paid to make sure your ass stays alive for the next thirty years so you can retire a crusty old asshole just like me. That’s my job. Don’t screw it up.”

After checking in with the security command, we took the private lift up into the heart of the headquarters, surrounded by employees nursing coffees and other stimulants. The environment was decidedly different from everything I’d seen of Carthage Consolidated so far. Walking through the corporate suites, we passed conference rooms full of nodding businesspeople, open office areas filled by workers staring into holo monitors, and finally the executive suites, where a hard-faced receptionist greeted us.

“Hello, deputies. Mr. Joyce isn’t quite ready. Please have a seat and he’ll be with you shortly.”

I glanced at Keldon, expecting him to force his way through the polished doors into Joyce’s office.

Instead, Keldon gave the receptionist a warm smile and nodded. “Is that fresh coffee I smell over there? I’d love a cup.”

“You’re welcome to it. There are pastries as well.”

Keldon touched his chest. “I love pastries. Can I get you anything?”

The receptionist pulled her head back, surprised by the offer. “I’d love a Danish. Fruit, please.”

Keldon poured himself a coffee and plated a pastry for the receptionist, who blushed when he served her. I sat down with a cup of black coffee and breathed deeply of its fumes before gulping the hot liquid.

“Always be kind to reception folks,” Keldon said in a low voice as he sat beside me. “I’ve cracked more cases from people in service roles than anything else, except angry spouses. You get married, don’t cross your spouse. They’ll get you.” He took a huge bite of his Danish and closed his eyes in thorough enjoyment.

I hadn’t finished my coffee when the receptionist rose to usher us through the ornate doors. We entered an office that was small but warm, with a desk on one side, small conference table on the other, and walls covered in displays showing company data. A large photo of Joyce and his family filled the one free wall. I studied George Joyce, the narrow-faced young man in the middle of the painting. The artist hadn’t done him any favors, making his blue eyes almost translucent and a little too large. He didn’t look any match for Kiren Carthage; maybe she preferred it that way.

Harvey Joyce was a round man with friendly brown eyes and a thoughtful look about him. He rose from his desk as we entered.

“Deputies, welcome. It’s good to meet you.”

He offered us seats at the conference table and sat next to me. Glancing at Keldon’s coffee cup, Joyce asked, “Would you like more coffee? I have a machine in my office.”

Keldon held up a hand. “I’m fine, Mr. Joyce. Thank you. Do you know why we’re here today?”

Joyce spread his hands and smiled. “I have to admit, I don’t.”

Keldon nodded. “It hasn’t hit the newsfeeds yet, but last night Kiren Carthage and two of her associates were kidnapped by a gang we believe originates in the Chop. We’re pursuing every lead we have right now, and we have possession of one of the gang’s vehicles, but we’re also tracking down any other information on who might have a motive to hurt Ms. Carthage.”

Joyce followed Keldon’s words intently. “That’s terrible. I feel for their family. If there’s anything I can do for James, I’d be glad to help.”

“Mr. Carthage has provided us with all the assistance he can. What we could use now is an outside perspective. As a business associate of the Carthage family, and the father of the groom, do you have any ideas about who might want to attack them in this way?”

“Oh,” Joyce said. “That’s a good question.”

I watched Harvey Joyce consider the information. He looked soft, but there was a hard note in his eyes now, as if he was a man who was used to presenting a weak front as he gathered information. He looked like the type who relied on rules to absolve himself of accountability.

Was there any emotion in Joyce’s face as he heard the news about Kiren? Satisfaction? Pleasure?

I didn’t see it.

If anything, Joyce looked like a man who had just received a hot stock tip and was calculating how he could capitalize on the information without creating problems for himself.

James Carthage might have been a builder, a grinder crushing lives beneath him, but Harvey Joyce was an exploiter, a reed that bent with the wind and survived the long storm.

I leaned back in my chair, surprised at the thoughts moving through my mind. I wasn’t usually one to judge people, but it was coming easily now. The question was whether I was right or not.

The problem with judging or making assumptions about others was that I could be wrong. A hunch was a data point of one, somebody told me once. I glanced at Keldon. He was giving Joyce his concerned concentration face, no betrayal of judgement or condemnation in his expression.

“I can’t say much about James Carthage’s business practices that you probably don’t already know,” Joyce said. “The man is ruthless. His mines chew up more lives than produce material.”

“How long have you known Mr. Carthage?” Keldon asked.

“Thirty years. We both inherited this business through family. Mine started as asteroid prospectors who lucked into a rich sector. I’ve turned a minor deposit into the third largest production operation in-system. For some reason I understood as a young man that the money wasn’t in the material, it was in moving it where it gets the best price. I invested in transport infrastructure. So even the mighty James Carthage depends on my drones, whether he wants to admit it or not. His shareholders understand.”

Keldon nodded. “I’m glad to hear your business is doing so well, Mr. Joyce.”

Joyce laughed. “I just bought my first casino. The Chance Wins.”

Which was where the wedding would be held. Made sense.

“Personally, I don’t think it’s got anything to do with business other than the fact that Carthage has money. You know he supports the Uprising, don’t you?”

Keldon frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that is.”

“You must not be politically active, Sergeant Keldon. If your department isn’t already paying attention, they should probably put someone on it. Every worker in Taurus is being courted by the Uprisers. If these people get their way, we’re going to see major upheaval.”

I glanced at Keldon, who looked thoughtful.

“Tell me more,” Keldon said.

Joyce waved a hand. “It’s a labor movement, pure and simple. The same sort of thing that’s been around for a thousand years. The difference here is that the organizers are active in the hotels, casinos, and other entertainment spots. They get the miners and prospectors in one-on-one situations, if you know what I mean, and explain to them all the ways they’re being exploited by people like James Carthage. Me, I take a look at compensation and working conditions and make adjustments. If they want to organize, I could dump them all. But I’d rather look at other options if I need to. It’s all a balancing game. Carthage, he wants to control everything. He sees labor organizations as a threat. So he tries to crush them under his boot. He makes speeches. Those speeches get out. He calls them things like roaches, dirt, leeches… the people who mine his material. Can you believe that?”

I’d met James Carthage. Of course I could believe it.

“There are several different labor organizations trying to get footholds in Carthage Consolidated, Sergeant Keldon,” Joyce said. “I’d start there if you want to look for someone who might want to weaken James Carthage. If he loses shareholder confidence and gets voted off his own company’s governing board, well, that would create a whole lot of chaos. He’s not the kind of person who thrives in chaos. He’d try to smash it, and that would only force him out quicker. I could see all of this as a plan to move James Carthage out of power, while making Kiren Carthage look equally damaged. Without a Carthage in power in the company, they’d be ripe for a hostile takeover. That’s a lot of money at play.”

“They’d federalize the mine,” I said.

Joyce glanced at me and smiled. “You think the Union doesn’t have ties to business? Maybe that’s exactly the plan. I couldn’t tell you. I don’t put all my eggs in one basket, as the old saying goes. You grab my mines, I’ll just choke your supply lines. Then I’ll squeeze your workers when they visit my casino chain… Carthage never did that. He’s vulnerable. And now someone seems to have hit him where it hurts the most.”

“You think the wedding brought this on?” Keldon asked.

“Of course. Why else do it now?”

“And you’re not concerned about your son?”

“George is head over heels for that woman. If they do get married, we get a seat on the Carthage board. If they don’t, maybe the heartache will toughen him up. I win either way.”

Joyce spent another thirty minutes listing enemies that Carthage had amassed over the last thirty years. In the end, the political motive seemed strongest but also had no clear perpetrator. According to Joyce, there were at least seven CEOs who would love to lead a hostile takeover of Carthage Consolidated.

I looked for tells that Joyce might be lying, or at least padding his version of the truth. He tended to spread his hands when he wanted to drive a point home. Certain CEOs he mentioned several times, emphasizing how much they hated Carthage on a personal level.

Whenever he did this, Keldon’s moustache would twitch with a sort of secret smile, as if he was aware of what Joyce was trying to say between the lines.

At the end of the interview, it would have been easy to think James and Kiren Carthage were the biggest assholes between here and the Sarkonian Empire. What made me doubt that assumption was what Carthage had said when asked about Kiren’s mother: James Carthage wanted to be a parent of his own accord. While the desire to be a parent wasn’t proof of anything, I couldn’t help feeling after my conversation with Carthage that the man loved his daughter. He had seemed personally wounded that she might be turning against him, even if that’s what he’d taught her to do.

“I have some recordings of Carthage sharing his thoughts about the Uprising,” Joyce said. “I’d be happy to have my assistant share them with you.”

“That would be very helpful,” Keldon said. He tapped the table and raised his eyebrows at me. It was time to go. “All right, I think we’ve taken enough of your time, Mr. Joyce.”

The businessman smiled. “Harvey, please. I’m happy to help in any way I can. I want Kiren safe just as much as you do.”

I almost rolled my eyes. Considering my extreme fatigue, exercising restraint felt like an accomplishment.

16

Keldon ordered me to get some sleep. The new information would need to filter through TechDiv, so we had time. Fortunately the Sheriff was stuck in meetings with the Station Administrator all day, so there would be no reporting to his office for updates.

After I got home, I stood in my kitchen for several minutes, staring at the case holding Carthage’s pistol. After a moment, I opened it and looked at the sleek piece of weaponry, fighting the urge to pick it up and point it at furniture.

He might have called it a tool, but I saw it as a bribe.

I didn’t take bribes.

I would find the right time to turn it over to Sergeant Keldon or someone else at the department, or maybe even give it to Kiren. Until then, it would sit on my kitchen counter where it couldn’t tempt me.

I felt like I was walking a tightrope to save a career I didn’t even have yet. Why should I be caught up in all this crap? It was a job for someone like Keldon, not a trainee. It irked me that they had wanted a rube from the beginning, someone with no family to care if he disappeared, and chose me. Despite everything Nagel had said, what if the ultimate plan was to pin everything on the newbie? What if Kiren died? Who would Carthage make pay for his daughter’s life?

Refusing the handgun felt like a hollow victory compared to the big picture, but feeling good about a small decision made me feel naïve.

Defeated and unsure how to move forward, I collapsed in bed. Sleep didn’t come easily, though, and I couldn’t stop thinking about James Carthage and that day the administrator had brought the news about my mom and dad. The feeling of that day came back to me in full force, leaving me feeling even more helpless. It was like my life had been a series of traps leading me here, in failure.

I eventually did sleep for a little while, but I was awakened by the security panel on my apartment door squawking for attention. Someone was outside my door.

I rolled out of bed and checked the status monitor on my bedroom wall. A woman with brown eyes and dark hair appeared in the panel, arms crossed like she was cold.

Tanys? What the hell?

I recognized her immediately. We’d lived in the same low-rent complex when I first arrived on Taurus Station. We’d spent time together but drifted apart when I eventually left for the academy. She was wearing a casino server’s outfit.

“Tanys?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”

She gazed up into the camera, not hiding her face. She had the same forthright expression and full lips that I remembered too well.

“I was thinking about you, Gage,” she said. “I still had your address from the last message you sent me.”

She was right. I’d told her to look me up, not believing she ever would. Of course, she hadn’t answered. Tanys wasn’t the type to wait around on a guy.

“Hold on,” I said. “I was asleep. Let me get some clothes on.”

She gave me a quick smile. “Don’t get dressed up for me.”

* * *

Standing in my kitchen, Tanys looked small and worn out, and ten years older than her actual twenty-three. She’d been working grave cycle at one of the older casinos that catered mostly to prospectors. Those types partied like there was no tomorrow. Her outfit was low-cut and obviously designed to attract attention, even though her posture was closed now.

I handed Tanys a coffee, which she accepted with a grateful smile.

“How have you been?” she asked.

“I got through the academy just fine,” I said. “Not top of my class but no problems. I’ve been on field training for the last seven weeks.”

“That means you’re on the street?”

“Mostly patrol.”

She raised her eyebrows when I didn’t say more. “What does that mean?”

“The street. Event security. Responding to calls. Assaults, break-ins, that sort of thing. I had a good weapons bust a couple weeks ago.” I stopped myself before mentioning the executive protection job with Kiren Carthage.

She sipped her coffee. “It’s dangerous?”

I shrugged. “Not statistically.”

Tanys chuckled. “I missed that dry sense of humor. I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I know it sounds dumb, but I wanted to know you were doing all right, that you were actually moving up.”

“You could have called anytime.”

“I got off shift today and had the courage. I haven’t had that other days.”

That didn’t sound like the woman I remembered. “Are you all right, Tanys?”

She hesitated. “I hate to ask this, Gage.”

“Look, if it’s money, it’s not a big deal. I get paid pretty well and I don’t spend much.” I couldn’t see why else she’d contact me out of the blue like this.

“What?” She blinked rapidly. I realized she was fighting tears. “It’s not money. Thank you, though. I wouldn’t bother you for that. It’s a bouncer at the casino. I guess you could say he’s taken a liking to me. I would take care of it myself, but I don’t want to get fired. I need this job. I was hoping you could help.”

I believed her when she said she would handle it herself. I’d seen her take down bigger men than her with a brand of martial arts that involved hard strikes to sensitive areas and yank-pull move she liked to call ‘starting the engine.’ She had never been afraid of using her skills.

“There are thousands of casino jobs. You should teach him a lesson.”

“I used to think that. I feel like it’s getting harder and harder to find work. I don’t want to mess this one up. I’ve got a nice place now.”

“All right. Is he up to anything?”

“Gambling on the side. I think he’s selling something at the door but I haven’t seen what.”

“What’s his name?” I asked.

Tanys passed the information. I would need some reasonable cause to investigate the bouncer, but that might not be hard to find once I visited the casino. The problem was going to be getting there with the Carthage case ongoing.

“When do you work again?” I asked.

“This is my weekend. I’m off for three days.”

“Has he made any threats?”

Tanys turned the forearm she had been holding against her middle and showed me bruises from where someone had grabbed her. The finger marks were purple stripes.

Gingerly, I took her arm and turned it under the light to get a better look. She winced once before hiding it.

“Is that from tonight?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Hold on. Let’s get you down to a med kiosk and get a record. I can use that.”

Tanys crossed her arms again. “Do you have to use me as evidence? Like I said, I don’t want anything getting back to the casino. He’s been there a long time.”

“I need a reason to investigate him,” I said. “This is everything I would need. We can make it an anonymous report. Especially if we use a street kiosk. You don’t have to register your personal information.”

“All right. I trust you, Gage.”

“That’s an awkward thing to say.”

Tanys gave me a tired laugh. “It just seems fitting for my life right now. I don’t feel like there’s anybody I can trust.”

I went into my bedroom to get dressed. I checked in with Ellie for any updates from Dispatch but found only the standard patrol briefs. TechDiv hadn’t sent any response to my statements from Carthage or Joyce.

“What the hell are they doing?” I asked, frustrated.

“You submitted those reports four hours ago, Deputy,” Ellie said. “Average report response time is twenty-six standard hours.”

“Oh, right.”

As we left, Tanys said, “You’ve got a nice place. You need to decorate, though. It’s kind of empty.”

The comment made me look around, realizing Carthage’s handgun case was currently the only bit of extra decoration. “I guess I haven’t had much time for that. I prefer not carrying a lot of stuff around. Moving sucks.”

“You lost your family, didn’t you?”

“I don’t remember telling you about that.”

“I remember you talking about attachments and how you wanted the sheriff’s office to help you feel connected to something. You still think that?”

I guess I had said it during a softer moment. “Mostly.”

The street outside my apartment stack was alive with people heading out for first cycle, grabbing breakfast, or still partying from the previous night. The neighborhood was a mix of small service businesses and clubs with shows, unending poker games and other specific entertainments. I liked the area because it never really slowed down. And it was cheap.

We found a nearby med kiosk and I waited as the drone scanned Tanys’ bruised arm, recording her. I saved the data to my duty record, then let the kiosk continue with treatment that consisted of some kind of ointment and a gel brace.

When I helped her out of the kiosk, she caught me in a hug.

“What’s that for?”

“Thank you. Most people would tell me to leave them alone.”

I frowned. “Who have you been hanging out with? The station isn’t that bad.”

She laughed more bitterly than the Tanys I remembered. “I’m glad you can say that.”

“It’s true,” I replied. “Mostly.”

“You hungry?” she asked. “The least I can do is get you some breakfast.”

I stretched. “That sounds pretty good.”

She hooked her arm in mine, close to me but not too close—no promises, I guess—and we walked down the street to a local diner where the service industry ate.

We were halfway through breakfast when I got an alert from the Watch Commander and then Keldon.

TechDiv had a lead.

17

TechDiv was a dark cave in the center level of the department. The lift opened on a security gate, the space beyond filled with flashing screens and piles of equipment.

I stepped off the lift and set the case with Carthage’s handgun on a scan platform. Keldon had told me to bring it in with me, since we could get it checked while we were talking to TechDiv. An admin worker stared at the scan report once it was done, furrowing his brow.

“What’s the scan say?” I asked.

“It’s a handgun. Did you think it was something else?”

“It was a gift from somebody I don’t trust. Can you tell me if it’s got any extra equipment, tracking systems, monitoring sensors, anything like that?”

The admin blinked at me, then pressed his face forward to study the scan display again.

“It’s pretty nice. If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”

I picked up the case. “Thanks,” I said. “I’m here to see Stam.”

“He’s back in evidence holding.”

There was no offer to help me find the head of TechDiv, so I wandered past the checkpoint into the labyrinth of stacked equipment and workstations.

Stam Jones was a mushroom-shaped man with thick goggles that made his eyes look huge. I had met him twice before, and both times he seemed to be looking through me. Stam was a jack-of-all trades who could as easily tear down electronics as he could design network communication systems. He had been with the department longer than anyone could remember. The only person he feared was the Sheriff, but Nagel listened to him, which was more than anyone else in the department could say.

“Get in here,” Stam said when I finally found the entrance to his work area. “I don’t have all day to deal with you.”

“I just got the notice. Is Sergeant Keldon here?”

“Keldon? No, not yet. Doesn’t matter. You can brief him.”

“He’s my training officer.”

Stam gave me a flustered look, his giant eyes swimming in his goggles. “Are you a deputy or not?”

“Still in training, but yes.”

“Good enough. Come on.”

I followed Stam back into the warren of his office and arrived at a table half covered in handguns.

“Don’t worry about those,” he said, waving a hand. “I’m running an update. If they feel hot, just stand over here.”

After activating a holo panel on the table, he brought up a map of the system. Taurus Station was a ball surrounded by traffic. Stam pulled the zoom out to encompass the asteroid belt and he focused on an area I recognized as the Chop Zone. From a distance, the Chop sparkled with scan returns. Up close, it was a tight collection of habitats and dead ships.

“You found Kiren Carthage?” I asked, excitement getting the better of me.

“Found her? No. Of course not. What I found was the original owner of that vehicle you got ahold of.”

I frowned. “How is that going to help us?”

“You find out who they sold it to, dummy. The problem is, this is all known gang territory. You’re going to have to work your way into their maintenance and talk to some mechanics. They’ll be able to tell you more about it.”

“I’m taking that thing out to the CZ?” My stomach clenched at the idea. I wasn’t scared of the Chop; it was all the zero-g between here and there.

“That would be my recommendation if you want to move forward with this case.”

There was a cursing sound behind me as a pile of parts toppled to the floor. Keldon jumped out of the way. “What the hell, Stam? Why don’t you get rid of this crap?”

Stam adjusted his goggles. “As soon as I throw anything away, somebody in the department needs it, and we never have the funding to replace anything. Ask me how I know.”

“This place is a hazard.”

“This place makes the department operate.”

Keldon acknowledged the point with a grimace. He studied the holo map. “Is this our target?”

“That’s right. It’s Rolo territory. That’s where your mystery vehicle came from. Whoever managed its onboard systems is actually pretty good. I can’t pull anything from the AI beyond when it was sold. So you’re going to have to go there and figure out who bought it.”

“Right. That sounds like a good plan.” He looked at me. “Did they cover covert operations in the Academy?”

“Not really,” I said.

“That’s probably better. You shouldn’t overthink it.”

“I’m more worried about getting out there. I hate zero-g.”

“You keep saying that, but I haven’t actually seen you lose your cookies yet. Maybe you’re just lazy.”

Stam cackled. “He’s too earnest to be lazy. Give him a couple of years.”

“I’ll beat it out of him,” Keldon said.

“What do I need to know about the Rolos?” I asked.

Stam shrugged. “They like to think they’re Ravagers, but they’re just a gang. They’ve been active for the last twenty years. Their current leader’s name is Deathmonger.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“I never kid, Walker. That’s what they call their leader. I can’t find any confirmed kills or anything like that, so I don’t know if the name is apt, but it’s what we’ve got.”

“Is the minishuttle ready?” Keldon asked. “We’re going to need to get changed and head out.”

“It’s ready,” Stam said. “I adjusted its logs and changed the registry to show another sale. The time you’re trying to learn about is a big black hole in the ownership chain. I’m going to put out a stolen vehicle alert, so if you need a cover story, you’ll have it. Plus driving a stolen vehicle is going to give you at least a little cred.”

“Any Union activity in the CZ?” Keldon asked.

Stam shrugged. “No way to know, but I doubt it.”

I picked up my handgun case and set it on the table next to the holo panel, then I clicked it open and pulled out the weapon.

“I thought you weren’t going to carry that?” Keldon said.

“I got it scanned when I came in. The clerk said it was clean.”

Stam snorted. “You got a drop weapon, there?”

Keldon made an offended face. “We do not carry drop weapons.”

“What’s a drop weapon?” I asked.

Stam waggled his fingers. “A magical extra weapon that shows up at crime scenes where there wasn’t one before.”

“That’s unethical,” I said.

“Of course, it is,” Keldon agreed. “That’s a bribe weapon. He’s been worried it’s got some kind of embedded tracker that’s going to read his thoughts.”

“Really?” Stam asked. “Let me see it.”

“That’s not what I think,” I said, handing it over.

Keldon blew out his moustache. “I’m pretty sure that’s what you said, trainee.”

Stam inspected the weapon and set it on a larger scan device than the tech had used. He chewed his lip at the results.

“Yup, it’s clean. Nice gun. Illegal, at least for a civilian, but nice.” He handed it back to me.

“There you go,” Keldon said. “Now stop worrying about it.”

“You need that case?” Stam asked.

“Nope,” Keldon said. “He’s going to stick it in a holster. Let’s go, Walker.”

“Yes, sergeant.”

We left Stam muttering to himself to head down to the Quartermaster. During the next hour, we were outfitted with shipsuits from an old freighter, engineer’s harnesses, and maglock boots for zero-g. We also traded our service helmets for civilian-looking versions that offered the same HUD but looked like they’d banged around in a cargo bay for a couple years.

Once Keldon had slapped me on the shoulders, yanked my harness, and stomped his heel on the toes of my magboots, he nodded in satisfaction and said it was time to get the hell off station.

We found the kidnapper’s vehicle in a maintenance bay, looking just like I remembered it. In the glaring bay lights, the railgun and side chain guns that had saved my ass during the pursuit were plain to see among the other junk bolted to the hull.

“You want to drive?” Keldon asked.

“Am I less likely to puke if I’m in the pilot’s seat?”

“Nope. I’ll drive. I don’t want puke bubbles on my side of the cabin.”

Keldon strapped in, then set a course for the department’s main airlock, and we waited as the lift carried us away from the admin areas. Around us, the minishuttle shifted into transport mode. A new display showed engine status and hull integrity, while another showed local space so Keldon could plot our course. The short range minishuttle would barely get us a round trip, if we were lucky.

“How much time have you spent in zero-g, really?” Keldon asked.

“Long enough to know I hate it.”

“You know it takes getting used to, right? That’s like saying I hate hot water.”

“Remember how I told you I worked on a mining rig for two years?” I said.

“Yes,” Keldon said, checking his console.

“Do you know jack shit about mining?”

“No,” he said with mock interest.

“Well, I was a rock hopper,” I said, despite the fact that he was teasing me. “You set charges on the rock to soften it up for the drones. That involves an assload of zero-g. The only way to get out of rock hopping is to hurt yourself or work your way up to drone operator.”

“And did you work your way up to drone operator?”

“Yes,” I said. “After two years of swallowing puke so I didn’t mess up my helmet.”

Keldon looked at me through is bushy eyebrows. “Did you really need to share that detail? That’s just disgusting.”

“That’s zero-g,” I said.

I tightened my seat harness again and made sure the tools on my suit were securely fastened. I didn’t want anything breaking loose to crush my skull during launch.

Once we were cleared in the launch queue, Keldon gave me a sly smile, holding his finger above the exit command. “Ready?”

“I guess.”

“Five, four, three—”

Instead of saying two, Keldon started the engines. Abrupt force slammed us into our seats as the ship left the exit bay.

The roaring in my ears had high notes as Keldon laughed hysterically. Apparently, he loved space. I broke out in a cold sweat as soon as we left the confines of the launch track. Blackness opened in the viewscreens, the other ships and habitats appearing as flashes in the dark.

The engine stopped.

I let go of my harness and my hands floated away from my body.

“You all right?” Keldon asked on the comms system, voice tinny in my ears.

“I’m fine.”

Without warning, adjustment thrusters kicked on, spinning the craft around. My stomach went into my throat, bringing a wave of nausea. Once the nose was pointed toward the CZ, the engines lit for their second burn, and we joined an outbound transport lane from Taurus.

Biting down vomit, I clenched my seat harness straps.

“Count down from a hundred,” Keldon said. “Get your breathing under control. You’ll be fine in a minute. You need to put your brain somewhere else.”

I felt like I had a ball in my throat. I squeezed my eyes closed. “I’m trying.”

“Hold on now. You need a puke bag? Oh, sorry. We don’t have any. Puke in your shipsuit.”

Keldon couldn’t get enough of the jokes. For the rest of the flight, I fought my convulsing stomach. Eventually, I had to acknowledge that the nausea was getting better. The desire to violently heave with every small shift in our velocity eased into a dull ache.

“You know farting helps, too,” Keldon said. “Don’t be embarrassed. We’re space buddies now.”

“Thanks,” I said through gritted teeth.

Slowly, the flashes in the viewscreen grew into a field of objects, which resolved into named points in the display. Keldon’s flight path took us around the outer edge of the Chop, opposite Taurus Station, as we matched velocity with the field. The ship executed a second flip for its braking burn, and once we had the same delta-V as the trash field, the minishuttle angled down for our final destination at the Rolo Hab, which resembled a giant spinning barrel in our display.

The main engine cut out and the rest of the trip was powered by the attitude thrusters, jostling us in every direction to avoid spinning debris.

“The AI’s going to quit on us,” Keldon complained, grimacing at the object-filled display.

Once we had Rolo Hab in sight, Keldon found their local comms frequency and sent a landing hail. When there was no response, he sent a second request, which was met with a shower of static and then the words, “Screw off.”

“Friendly, aren’t they?” Keldon noted.

Releasing the longest burp of my life, I nodded. I sat up straighter in my seat, clearing my throat.

“We’ve got business on your damn habitat,” Keldon said. “Money to spend.”

“Then you’re stupid,” the voice answered. “There’s nothing here for anybody that ain’t Rolo. Unless you’re cops. You’re not cops, are you? You have to tell us.”

Keldon rolled his eyes. “We’re not cops. We’ve got a hot ride we need to cool down, and Rolo was the last entry on the registry. Look, if you’ve got a gate fee, we’ll pay it.”

Static filled the channel again.

“If you don’t have a gate fee, we can probably work something out between the two of us. Yeah?” Keldon added.

I was surprised to hear Keldon dropping into a form of street slang that I’d never heard him use. I realized I’d never asked Keldon where he was from. He seemed entirely too excited to visit the Chop, which hinted at a story.

“Are you from here?” I asked.

“What’s that, recruit? Did I tell you to ask questions?” He grinned at me through his face shield. “I was born and raised in the CZ. I’ll tell you all about it someday.”

The channel fuzzed. “Fine. You better be who you say you are.”

“I didn’t tell you who I am,” Keldon said. “Why would I do that? I told you I’ve got a minishuttle with a registry I need to clear.”

“Oh, right. Well, no tricks.”

“No tricks,” Keldon agreed.

The display registered the incoming docking confirmation, and Keldon set the vehicle to follow the assigned flight path into the Rolo Hab’s docking tree. The Hab had its own level of spin, so we had to complete a new set of matching burns, followed by braking and adjustments that set my stomach grinding, until we finally passed through the oversized Rolo airlock.

I stared through the viewscreen at a long maintenance bay full of small and medium-sized ships in dry dock. Giant robotic arms hung above the hulls, while others crawled with maintenance drones. I was still looking when a man walked up to my side of the vehicle and banged on the hatch with his fist.

“Get the hell out,” a sharp voice ordered on the open channel, barking inside my helmet. “You fooled our idiot on inbound traffic, but you won’t get past me.”

“And who are you?” Keldon asked sweetly.

“Drina Silver. I run this shop.”

18

From the wide observation window in Drina Silver’s office, I watched one of the giant arms pick up our minishuttle like a toy and turn it upside down. With the undercarriage revealed, a small army of spider drones ran out from the arm to dig into the vehicle’s guts.

Drina Silver was a thin, muscular woman with a tall comb of spiky silver hair. Her left arm was augmented, made of battered metal and tipped with a rotating claw with more fingers than I could count. In the time since I’d met her, the metal hand had formed a fist.

She stalked from one end of her cluttered office to the other. “Let me get this straight. You bought that piece of junk out there and it turns out it’s hot. So you leave Taurus Station with a notice on your registry and decide to come here. You realize you’re making this my problem now?”

Keldon spread his hands. “It’s not your problem. All I want help with is cracking the blank spot in the registry from before it came into my possession. Somebody stole this thing off the original owner, and I want to know who that was. There has to be flight data in there. I’m pretty sure it’s somebody in the Zone.”

“If that’s the case, you’re probably more likely to stay alive if you don’t mess with them. It’s a minishuttle. This isn’t the kind of rig you risk your ass over.”

“Let’s just say I have sentimental reasons.”

“More reason to let it go,” Silver said. “Anytime you mix emotion with business, you’re dead.”

“Is that how you lost your arm?” Keldon asked.

She glared at him. “Watch it. We’re not friends.”

“There’s no reason we couldn’t be,” the sergeant offered.

Silver scoffed at him. She went to one of her parts-strewn counters and picked up a fiber assembly, gathering its pieces like pasta. “I can scan your registry, but you’re asking me to take on a lot of risk with the data. What happens if I find something that puts me and mine in a dangerous spot?”

“Like you said, it’s just a minishuttle. We’re not important people. I’d like to have my purchase in the free and clear, and I’m a little angry that I got taken in a bad deal.”

She shrugged. “Like I said, get over it.”

Keldon walked over to the bench beside her and set a currency token on the scarred surface. In a low voice, he said, “It matters to me, and I’m willing to pay for it.”

The engineer passed her augmented hand over the token, scanning it, then gave Keldon a surprised look. “You’re crazy.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “My reasons aren’t yours. You’re just here to do a job. That’s the Chop, right?”

Silver studied him, almost frowning. I wondered if Keldon had said something in code that I hadn’t picked up, because the woman’s demeanor changed.

“What about that one?” she asked, indicating me. “He’s standing over there not saying a word. Is he your trained pet?”

“He’s got an upset tummy,” Keldon said. “Space travel doesn’t agree with him. And he doesn’t have anything to do with the business between you and me, other than standing over there.”

The woman shook her head, debating. She squeezed the currency token like it was a weight she wanted to put down but couldn’t.

“Fine,” she said finally. “There’s a galley down on the first level. You go wait down there and I’ll pull your data. I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

“Thank you,” Keldon said. He gave her a half bow.

Silver snickered. “You’re a fool.”

“At least I’m having fun.”

* * *

The ancient galley was outfitted with a filthy meal combiner and beverage dispenser that didn’t look like it had ever been cleaned. Nearly twenty people in shipsuits were already waiting. Most sat at the tables staring into visors or with heads close together in quiet conversation. Few paid us any attention as we walked in and found a table.

“Should we be worried about this place?” I asked.

“Of course,” Keldon said. He stretched and leaned back in his metal chair. “This place is dangerous, but not any worse than Taurus Station. These people don’t have the benefit of us, so I think they tend to be a bit more cautious. In the CZ, disputes end up in death a whole lot more often.”

“I didn’t know you grew up in the Zone,” I said.

“You never asked. As I think about it, you’re actually very self-centered.”

“I didn’t realize I could ask personal questions.”

“You can always ask,” Keldon said.

“Did your daughter grow up here, too?” I asked the question slowly.

Keldon didn’t seem bothered that I mentioned her. “My daughter? Hell, no. I was long gone before then. I thought Jules was proof that I was never coming back.” He sighed. “That’s not how it worked out.”

He stared off in the distance for a second, jaunty mood gone, and I regretted bringing her up.

“Did you see that James Carthage has direct parentage of Kiren?” I asked, changing the subject.

Keldon nodded. “I did. That’s interesting. It makes him more sympathetic than I would have thought. Why would a man like Carthage want a child?”

“Ego?” I asked.

Keldon gave me an appraising look. “Very good, Walker. I would have said something similar, but that’s based on years of knowing jerks like Carthage. What we have to ask after that is if he really cares that his daughter has been kidnapped.”

“You don’t think it was him, do you?” I asked.

“I’m not discounting anything.”

“Hey,” a gruff voice called from several tables away. “What ship are you from?”

I turned in my seat to find a burly like man pointing at us. The ship’s name on his suit was covered by his unruly beard. His face was clenched in an expression of exaggerated focus that might have been anger or intense curiosity.

“We’re not crew, friend,” Keldon said easily. “We’re visiting from Taurus Station.”

“Straighters, then?”

“I’m not familiar with that term,” Keldon said. “We’re here to get a little work done and continue on our way. What ship are you serving on?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Of course not. Just having a friendly conversation.”

“You’re not my friend.”

Keldon smiled. “A friend is just a conversation away.”

I adjusted in my seat, easing my hand closer to my handgun.

“I don’t like the look of you,” the big man continued. “All clean and smarmy. You look like corporate filth to me. I killed men like you in the mine. I threw you in the bore hole like rats.”

Keldon glanced at the people around the big man, who were sliding away from him.

“Look, friend,” the sergeant said. “We certainly don’t want any trouble. I’m sorry you had a hard time.”

“It’s my life,” the man shouted. He tossed a tray off a nearby table. “You look like my dad and I hate my dad.”

Keldon raised his hands in appeasement. “Look, friend—”

The enraged man had dropped his hands to his side and now drew a pistol and squeezed off three rounds.

I recognized the motion and shoved our table, pushing Keldon out of the line of fire. I drew Carthage’s handgun and fired from the hip, aiming for the middle of the man’s beard.

The pistol wound up like it was generating energy rounds, then fizzled out. I stared at the pistol’s barrel, which emitted a weak stream of vapor.

“Walker!” Keldon shouted.

I jerked to my right as the bearded man filled my chair with bullets. Tossing the fancy handgun away, I reached across my body for my service weapon. This time I had a secondary weapon, damn it. I fired four shots into the man’s chest, as Keldon did the same.

He roared in pain, eyes wide as he stared at us, before pitching face-first on the floor. One arm hit a table as he went down, sending silverware clanking around him.

The other people in the galley stared.

Keldon held his pistol ready, then relaxed when no one else moved to fire on us. “Well, that was unfortunate,” he said, overly loud. “I hope he finds peace.”

That seemed funny to the onlookers. Several laughed. “We hated that guy,” someone shouted.

“What was his name?” Keldon asked.

“Who knows?”

Drina Silver appeared in the galley entrance, looking angry. Her gaze slid across the room, rested on the dead freight worker, then moved to Keldon. She squinted. “You. Come with me.”

There were two security guards behind Drina. I hadn’t holstered my pistol yet. I glanced at Keldon for guidance, and the sergeant nodded for me to put the weapon away.

Drina left the galley and we followed. The two heavies fell in behind us, armed with what looked like shock batons.

Instead of heading back toward the maintenance bay, Silver took us to a lift not far from the galley. When Keldon saw the lift doors, he asked, “Are you taking us to a second location?”

The lift doors opened and Silver hadn’t answered. I felt the heavies close to my back, not quite pushing us into the lift but ready.

“I don’t think I’m going anywhere with you until you explain what’s going on,” Keldon said.

Silver turned on him, face flush with anger. “I cracked your little ship’s database. You know what it did? It called home with location data.”

“Where’s home?” Keldon asked, ignoring her tone.

Silver clenched her fists, her metal fingers grinding against each other. “It’s out of my hands now. You screwed up by coming here and involving us in your mess. You’re going to talk to the Deathmonger.”

Keldon nodded. After the fight in the galley, I was amazed at how cool he remained. My heart hadn’t returned to its normal rhythm yet.

“That sounds all right,” Keldon said. “So the Deathmonger is up a couple levels?”

“Yes,” Silver said. “You had better hope you come down again.”

“Sounds good,” Keldon said.

Silver growled as Keldon stepped into the lift and I followed. The two guards were the last on. The doors slid closed and the lift rose several levels.

Silver kept her face aimed at the doors, refusing to look at Keldon or me. Her metal fist continued to grind.

“Do I call the Deathmonger Mister or Miss?” Keldon asked.

“Shut your mouth.”

The sergeant shrugged.

The guards hadn’t taken our weapons, so I maintained a relaxed but ready stance, running through fight scenarios in the closed space. I debated whether it was better to fire on the guards or try to disarm them first. I hadn’t finished the mental game when the lift slowed and the doors opened on a long metal corridor.

Silver led us off the lift and strode down the corridor, her boots clicking on the metal deck. At the end of the span was an internal airlock that stood open on what appeared to be the orbital’s command section.

Ducking through the airlock, I found myself on a deck on the edge of a round space lined with workstations, cabinets, and banks of control systems. In the middle of the room was a raised platform with the captain’s seat in the middle. As we entered, the chair rotated to show a seated figure dressed in black, wearing a mask made from a bleached animal’s skull with pointed horns.

“Here they are,” Silver announced, then jerked a thumb at Keldon. “This is the fool who brought the minishuttle into my bay.”

Keldon stepped forward, spreading his hands. “I told your technician here that I didn’t know what was on the ship’s database. I paid for a service and it looks like I received it. If you need more information than that, I don’t know what I can do for you.”

There was a pause as Keldon stood in front of the seated figure, palms out. The skull leaned forward slightly, dark eyes boring into his amiable face.

“Sergeant Jack Keldon,” Deathmonger said with a woman’s powerful voice. “I would think you’d have been smart enough to never come back here.”

I blinked and looked at Keldon, whose expression hadn’t changed.

The skull turned to look at me. “Is this one of your new trainees? What’s his name?”

I hesitated until Keldon clasped his hands together in what might have been a nervous gesture. “Go ahead,” he said. “Your name isn’t going to change anything.”

“Deputy Gage Walker,” I said.

“Gage,” Keldon corrected. “He goes by Gage. Which he should always introduce himself as so he doesn’t sound like a robot.”

Deathmonger stood from the captain’s seat, black suit hugging an impressive figure. She lifted a hand to her mask and pulled it off her face, shaking out rich, shoulder-length black hair. She leveled her gaze on Keldon.

“You told me you would come back,” she said.

“Diedre,” Keldon said. “You know why I couldn’t come back.”

“But here you are.”

“Here I am.”

“I don’t think you’re leaving this time. I’m in charge now.”

“We have a job to do,” Keldon said. “There’s been a kidnapping.”

“And you think it was someone from the Chop. I’m betting you think it was a certain gang leader. Kallaver, perhaps?”

Keldon sighed. “Actually I was hoping it wasn’t. Unfortunately that seems to be the case. No one else out here would have the balls or the resources to get to James Carthage’s daughter.”

None of this made sense. I knew the name Kallaver. He was the leader of a gang called the Factory. But if Keldon suspected such a high profile criminal, why didn’t he tell me? I wondered if it had to do with my rookie status, like he was worried I might mention the name to the wrong person.

I glanced between each of them, and then at Drina Silver, who looked supremely irritated. “Sergeant, how do you two know each other?”

“It’s a long story,” Keldon said.

Dierdre gave a low laugh. “Yes, it is.”

“Are you going to help me?” Keldon asked.

The woman tapped her chin with a long finger, studying Keldon. “It’s going to cost you.”

19

“She gets lonely,” Drina said, digging through a parts bin. “I can’t blame her, but it can still irritate the hell out of me. I’m allowed to have feelings.”

I sat on a stool at one of the engineer’s workbenches. I’d been watching her work for the last hour, waiting for Keldon to reappear.

“Sure,” I agreed.

“I’m trying to run a shop here. We’ve got an image to maintain. Sometimes we have to use violence. I can’t have the rank and file see the boss getting all giddy when an old flame like Keldon shows up. It’s bad for business.”

“I’m starting to think he didn’t just show up,” I said. “Seemed like Jack was in a better mood the minute we learned the minishuttle had a connection to Rolo.”

Drina shook her head. “This has happened before. Those two are like oil and water. They seem fine to start, but then it gets too hot and the oil smokes, the water evaporates, things get sticky, and before you know it everything is on fire.”

“When was he here last?” I asked.

“A year ago? I don’t keep track. I think he arrested her some ten years ago. It’s been on and off since then.”

“That’s awkward,” I said.

One of Drina’s workers appeared in the doorway with Carthage’s dead handgun in one hand. “Hey, Boss,” he said. “Did you want this thing?”

“That’s mine,” I said.

The worker tossed it to me. “Then clean up your crap.”

I caught the pistol and turned it in my hands. The firing mechanism was scorched and the battery no longer showed charge. A long burn ran from under the barrel to the back of the power control.

A dark realization set over me. Carthage had set me up. If I had been carrying the handgun in Ronny’s apartment, I’d be dead. So doing the right thing had actually saved my ass. Now I had to figure out how that fit into the bigger picture.

“What are you grinning about?” Drina asked.

“Luck. You want this thing?”

She shrugged. “Throw it in that bin over there. It might have some use someday.”

I tossed the pistol. “What can you tell me about this gang?”

“You don’t want to mess with them. That’s what I know.”

“I already did.”

“If that’s true and you’re alive, you should count your blessings.”

“How many of them are there?”

“Maybe a thousand. They run an old ice processing facility on the far side of the Chop.”

I sat up straighter. “Is that where the mini called home to?”

Drina made a sour face, realizing she’d given up the info she refused to share earlier. “Yes, I think so. I haven’t seen any activity though. We’ve got a feed from a sensor over there. Things are still quiet. Or normal, at least.”

“What kind of work do they do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are they mercenaries? Do they do work for hire?”

“What do you think they do? You offer enough cash, they’ll watch your dog and babysit your kids. Or knock off a Union transport in open space and murder the whole crew. They’re crazy. And brutal. If your people were grabbed by them, you should plan the funeral. Trust me.”

“That’s not an option,” I said.

“It’s going to be sad to see your pretty face get all messed up,” Drina said.

When Keldon finally appeared, walking with a spring in his step, he pointed at me and grinned. “There you are. Hurry up. I’ve got our location.”

“So do I,” I said. “I got it forty minutes ago.”

“Did you call it in?”

“No. I wanted you to confirm.”

Keldon winked at me. “You’re learning, trainee. That’s good.”

Drina laughed.

Keldon shifted his gaze between us, squinting. “Aren’t you two fast friends now? We might have need to come back during your training period, recruit.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sergeant.”

“You’re not as dumb as you look.” He waved at Drina. “Thank you, Ms. Silver. I appreciate your help.”

“Whatever. Run a diagnostic startup when you get in. I did it and everything came back clean, but I like to run them several times after a crack like that. You never know if something got messed up in the onboard AI during the reboot.”

“As you wish,” Keldon said.

“Save that crap for Deirdre,” Drina told him.

* * *

The minishuttle started with no apparent problems. Keldon called in to verify the information from Drina. The sergeant on duty seemed to know something about Keldon’s affiliation with Rolo and gave him a hard time. In the end, the information about the Factory was relayed to Tactics and we were ordered to move to the location and maintain an observation point.

Keldon set the flight plan and activated the navigation AI. I strapped in for the exit launch and took deep breaths as the vehicle rose from Drina’s maintenance deck and rotated toward the airlock.

The vehicle was halfway inside the airlock when an alert blared on the control console and the engines powered down. The vehicle slammed to the deck, seesawing on the lip of the airlock.

“What are you doing?” Drina demanded on the open channel. “You’re going to wreck my place.”

“We’ve got a hiccup,” Keldon said. “Hold on.” He reset the AI, looking like he was stroking the display as he switched through menus. After two full power cycles, the systems returned to life and rose from the deck. This time, we passed through without issue and left Rolo Hab.

“What was all that about?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Keldon admitted. “All I did was reset the system. Maybe it was an anomaly like she said.”

“Should we tell Dispatch?”

“Let’s get to our position first. If it looks like that isn’t going to happen, then we’ll update them. Otherwise, the only thing I want to hear is that Tactics are on their way with firepower and deputies, and maybe Union support, too. That would be nice.”

That surprised me. “You really think they’d get involved with something like this?”

“Why not? Think about the big picture. You think you’re going to ride in there like a cowboy and rescue the rancher’s daughter? Ain’t gonna happen. We’ve got overwhelming force for just this kind of situation. Gangs don’t care about the consequences of their actions because they think they’re untouchable. News flash: they aren’t.”

All I could do was agree as the mini followed its flight plan across the CZ. The silent graveyard spun around us as we passed by. For a few minutes, Keldon pulled up the weird EM spectrum emanations from the Chop, a creepy collection of looped recordings, machine-generated signals, and warped AI calling out endlessly at space.

“You trying to psych me out, Sergeant?” I asked.

“Welcome to the Chop, recruit. You’re going to be grateful the next time we’re sitting at Drake’s enjoying a beer. Now this is real training. I can’t wait to read your journal on what you learned today.”

“You really want to read my journal about what happened today? Aren’t the journals open to Internal Audit?”

Keldon grinned. “I’m past retirement age. Guaranteed pension. You can tell IA I talk to aliens for all I care. You’d be doing me a favor. Maybe the Sheriff will finally approve my release.”

I wanted to ask more but the proximity alarm cut me off. We were nearing our destination. The minishuttle executed a braking burn and then adjustments that brought us in behind a hulking piece of spinning metal that resembled a carved-out moon.

Keldon powered down all lights in the cabin but the tactical display, which he focused on our location. We sat on one side of the screen, and a giant interconnected cube rotated on the other side. I didn’t ask what scale the display showed. I suddenly didn’t want to know.

The sergeant rubbed his hands together. “All right. In position with observation on the target. Let’s send dispatch our update.” As Keldon reached for the console, an arc of static electricity connected his index finger with the display. There was a flash, and then the cabin went black, all systems dead.

“That’s not good,” Keldon said.

20

The minishuttle was dead. Fortunately, our helmets still had internal power that allowed us to talk to each other, but with the broadcast systems in the vehicle down, we couldn’t reach dispatch. The civilian helmets didn’t seem capable of bouncing emergency signals off any local comms buoys, and neither of us had the skills to try hacking a different system.

“Time to wait,” Keldon said. “Tactical should be here soon enough. They’ll pick us up when they set the perimeter.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m not sure about anything, recruit. But that’s the safest thing for us to do. We might as well get comfortable.”

I shifted in my seat, loosening my harness, when a cracking sound came from behind my head.

“What was that?” Keldon straightened in his seat. Our helmets made it impossible to see behind us.

A second crack sounded, followed by clicks outside the hull.

“Maglocks,” the sergeant said. “There’s someone outside.”

We waited, listening. Dull thuds on the outside of the cabin moved behind my head, and I reached for my handgun.

Keldon unstrapped from his seat and turned to grab the emergency lock on the hatch. “Stay here.”

“Stay here? Doesn’t it make sense for both of us to go? I’m not sitting here like a dummy.”

“I don’t want you puking in your helmet and becoming a liability. I’ll find out what’s going on. If I tell you to blow your hatch and run, you do it. Tactical will locate you by your transponder once they’re within range.”

“That sounds like a terrible plan, sergeant.” The shipsuits were cheap and really only for emergencies.

“Do what I tell you.”

I sat where I was, figuring out what I was going to do once he went outside. There was no way I was staying in my seat.

Keldon unsealed his hatch. Atmosphere blew the door open, showing a broad field of empty space. The harness grew tighter under the expanding suit, so I unfastened the buckles and sat with one hand on my emergency latch, the other holding my pistol. I fought nausea as floating free made my stomach lurch.

The sounds outside the hull stopped. Keldon drew his pistol and activated the maglocks in his gloves and boots. He waited another minute, then pulled himself slowly through the opening.

I unfastened my harness completely and grabbed one of the overhead handles. Floating free in the cabin, I waited for more sounds of movement outside the hull. The steady sound of Keldon’s breathing filled my helmet, with a few low clicks as maglocks caught and disengaged.

“See anything?” I whispered.

“Shut up.”

Several minutes passed with only Keldon’s breathing.

“Damn,” he said abruptly. “Three of them. Sheriff’s justice.”

Sheriff’s justice meant Keldon was authorizing deadly force and making sure his helmet recorded the order.

Handgun fire sounded dully on the comms channel. Clicks and bumps moved behind my head, followed by return fire.

Keldon grunted. He’d been hit. There was a low hiss as his suit sealed a hole.

I couldn’t wait any longer.

Swallowing hard, I drew my pistol and pulled myself toward his open hatch. I was halfway out when I remembered to activate my maglocks, then I couldn’t figure out how to release my free hand from the edge of the hatch. Light reflected off the hull, making the edges appear sharp. I could easily see bits of junk floating nearby in the debris field.

A shape floated above me, and it took a second in the harsh light to realize it was one of our attackers, rotating to point a pistol at me.

I pulled myself back inside the hatch and fired three times. My gloves didn’t provide much feedback from the trigger, so I wasn’t sure when the weapon actually fired at first. The awkwardness threw off my aim.

I caught the man in the shoulder and then faceplate. Gas sprayed from the torn suit, but the faceplate was only scorched. The jet from their suit threw my attacker into a spin. Three of my bullets burst more holes in the attacker’s chest, and I saw his face as the suit tore open under the escaping pressure. The man’s struggling arms and legs went still as the escaping atmosphere pushed him away from the shuttle.

Keldon had said there were three.

I waited for more movement. “Sergeant, you all right?”

There was no answer. I pulled myself outside again and moved slowly along the side of the minishuttle, clicking and releasing off the metal cargo attached to the hull. When I reached the aft section of the ship, I found a cable maglocked to the hull below the main thruster. The line extended back to a drone floating just beyond the husk of the tank we had been hiding inside.

Keldon was nowhere to be seen.

I stayed close to the line of the hull, not wanting to give away my silhouette, and searched the debris floating nearby. I didn’t see anything until I caught movement on the empty tank beneath me.

A scaffold ran from the bottom of the tank. Keldon crouched on one side, while a few meters away, two combatants moved to flank him. Keldon kept them back with handgun fire. His movements were deliberate as he aimed and fired, keeping his helmet below the edge of the scaffold.

His suit didn’t appear to be venting gas anymore but he was moving slow, obviously wounded.

“Keldon,” I called again. “Keldon, can you copy?”

I steadied my firing hand and aimed on the closest attacker, some ten meters below me. I waited as the pirate bobbed and ducked Keldon’s fire, then squeezed off three rounds of my own. The first shot caught the hitman in the small of his back, the second on top of the shoulder, the last in his bent leg. His suit popped and hissed, unable to seal.

My stomach lurched as the minishuttle rotated underneath me. Still, not bad shooting.

Keldon fired on the remaining hitman, who retreated along the scaffold. The man fired wildly as they moved, arm rising with each shot. For a second, I was sure Keldon was going to take him out, until he slumped against the scaffold. He’d been hit again.

The open space between the minishuttle and that scaffold scared the shit out of me. I couldn’t let Keldon die. I unlocked my magboots and kicked off the hull, firing as I moved.

As soon as I left the small craft, I felt unmoored. Everything seemed to be moving faster than I expected, the scaffold rotating and rushing at me.

The comms sputtered in my helmet, filling with Keldon’s gasps. “Turn around and come down on your feet or you’re going to break your shoulder,” he said. “Once you get moving, you keep moving that direction, don’t forget.”

“I know,” I said. This was just like a rock hop, but I was trying to shoot somebody at the same time, and there was no residual gravity to keep me from completely missing my landing and drifting off into space.

The hitman was more experienced in zero-g than me, apparently, and managed to duck behind a metal rib. He returned fire as I twisted to get my legs back under me. The blasts missed by centimeters.

I hit the metal skin of the tank a meter from Keldon. I came down hard, sprawled, gloves locking to the surface, and waited for my head to stop spinning. I looked down to find the minishuttle beneath us. Up and down had switched.

Keldon breathed heavily in the comms. “This guy’s tough, Gage. He moves really well. You’re going to have to anticipate where he’s going to be and fire there. He keeps dodging my shots.”

“You’re hit,” I said.

“I’m still moving. Don’t worry about me.”

I crawled to Keldon. There were three plugged holes across his chest. I couldn’t tell if he was bleeding and the harsh light on his faceplate already made him look pale.

“We have to get you back to the mini,” I said.

“I’m not going anywhere until we take this guy out. He probably already called back to their base that we’re here. The only thing we have now is that they don’t know we’re deputies. If he kills one of us, we’re done. Tactics will be walking into a trap.”

Keldon was right. I scanned the area, looking for another way at the man that wasn’t exposed. Aside from the scaffold down the middle of the tank, there were a few reinforcing ribs about a meter high. Without a personal thruster, though, there was no way I could navigate that kind of cover without being seen. The cheap suits didn’t allow for that kind of luxury. Moving would take too long.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Keldon said. “He’s at the end of the scaffold. We’re going up on either side. We won’t let him get into the open and we’ll squeeze him at the top of the T. Make sense?”

A piece of debris spun across the top of the open tank, another reminder we were spinning independently of everything else around us. My stomach lurched. The drone cabled to the minishuttle extended like a pendulum now.

Handgun fire shot over our heads. Try to draw us out? If he had, now was our chance. Keldon seemed to figure the same thing.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said.

I moved to the other side of the scaffold, but I could barely see the block where our man crouched for cover. I looked over the edge, with Keldon visible through the struts across from me. Slowly, we advanced, waiting when he fired and then pushing forward a few more meters.

After a few movements like this, it was obvious the pirate was still firing on our old position inside the split tank. I started to get excited that we’d catch him unaware.

We had nearly reached the end of the scaffold when Keldon grunted and fell against his side, one hand floating free. The maglock on his boots clicked off as he banged his helmet against the scaffold.

The assassin popped over the top of his cover, spotted us, and fired point-blank on Keldon.

He’d also exposed himself. I fired in a line across his upper chest and neck. The suit burst as the man flung his arms wide in pain, and then hung in position with his boots locked to the metal structure.

“I’m coming, Keldon,” I shouted, breathing hard.

Keldon gurgled on the comms channel. I pulled myself across the top of the scaffold to Keldon’s side and grabbed his harness. The minishuttle was still above us, but once I kicked off the scaffold, there was no guarantee the minishuttle would be waiting at the end of the jump.

Biting down my fear, I holstered my pistol, tightened my grip on Keldon’s harness, and kicked off.

This time, I planned my flip a bit more gracefully, rotating Keldon along with me as I got my legs under me. At first it looked like we were going to hit the shuttle right in the middle and I braced for the impact.

By some miracle, my boots hit just behind the open exit hatch. I struggled to lock my magboots as Keldon bumped into the exterior, yanking me around so my boots came unlatched. I hit the nose of the minishuttle, rolled, and then bounced past into open space, still hanging onto Keldon as his momentum dragged me out.

Blood rushed in my ears, creating a dull roar. I rotated to look back just in time to see the shuttle’s tail rushing at me, the open mouth of the thruster looming with the drone cable leading away behind it.

The small craft was spinning faster than I was. I hit the tail and slapped my free hand against the hull, locking the glove in place. I grunted with the effort of hanging onto Keldon, who was no help at all in his condition.

When I finally stuffed Keldon inside the minishuttle and pulled myself through the hatch, I sealed the cabin and tore my helmet off once the internal atmosphere equalized again. I worked off Keldon’s helmet to find the sergeant staring ahead.

“Oh no, you don’t. I’m not letting you.” I turned in my seat, shoving my fingers inside Keldon’s collar to hunt for a pulse.

Nothing.

The front of his suit was wet with blood. There was no way I could get it off to pack the bullet wounds. The only option was to find the first aid kit and apply a stasis module. Provided this piece of shit shuttle had a proper first aid kit, with a stasis module that wasn’t out of date or otherwise faulty.

I pushed Keldon’s helmet back over his head and sealed the collar latch, then reached behind the pilot’s seat for where the trauma kit should be located. At first my hands found nothing, until my probing fingers closed on a thin handle. Hands shaking, I yanked the kit free and set it in Keldon’s lap. Stenciled across the top of the flat case were the letters ‘NCSD.’ It was one of our kits, meaning that Stam had made sure it was there.

“Thank you, Stam,” I muttered, wondering what I could buy the guy to make up for this.

I threw the lid open and searched through the contents until I found the packet with the stasis module, then I forced myself to slow down and open it carefully.

The device was a tube the length of my hand that needed to be placed over a person’s heart and slammed from above. The action would release a ring of leg-like needles that penetrated the ribs and took control of the nervous system, providing heart-controlling shocks, while also emitting a short-range stasis field that covered the head and torso. These things wouldn’t guarantee your looks, but they usually saved lives if recovered within twenty-four hours.

I held the stake steady over Keldon’s heart with my left hand and pulled back my right fist. The space suit was bulky and I repositioned the stake a couple times, then finally brought my hand down on the butt of it, grunting with the effort. There was a crunch of broken ribs as the legs penetrated Keldon’s suit. A yellow light flickered on the end of the stake, warning onlookers to get clear. I stared at the warning light for a second, forgetting what it was for, when a countdown beep matched the flashing yellow light. That meant the stake had proper contact.

I pressed myself against the far side of the cockpit and watched the stake count down to a single long beep. The yellow light froze, then turned red.

Keldon was encased in a shimmering energy field covering from his head to his thighs. He might lose his extremities, but Drina Silver proved that was a survivable problem.

Breathing hard, I stared at my sergeant for a few seconds, then shook my head and wiped my face. I’d done it. Keldon was going to live.

Something jerked the minishuttle, startling me.

I straightened, looking around. Through my window, the split tank appeared to be moving. It was getting smaller, floating away from me.

No, I was moving, and picking up speed as I watched the tank get smaller and smaller. As the tank fell away, we rotated so I caught a final glimpse of the scarecrow hitman still maglocked to the scaffold.

In another second, I realized I was being towed.

The drone.

I pulled on my helmet, sealed my suit, and opened the comms menu in my HUD. I didn’t know much about drones, but most had an access system open to the public. If the drone’s control system wasn’t secured, I might be able to tell where it was taking me. Although I had a good enough guess from the attackers who had come with it.

A smiling icon appeared in my HUD, offering status options and a maintenance menu. I quickly found navigation, where a quick setting option showed the current course status. I followed the menu tree to the branch that ended in a local map, where a smiley face danced above the metal cube of the Factory.

The happy icon announced, “Home soon!”

21

I pressed against a rectangular sensor on the minishuttle’s undercarriage, doing my best to flatten out against the hull. Keldon was beside me, secured only by his hands and feet, head lolling aimlessly. I hoped we didn’t break the ship’s bumpy profile. If the gang ran an active scan, they would pick up our heat signatures, so I was hoping they were expecting a dead ship with nobody inside. Or they were just lazy. I could always hope for that.

With nothing to occupy my attention but my breathing and the spinning junk everywhere I looked, I found myself a lot more aware of how much light was reflecting off the debris field. Many of the objects flashed white as they caught the local starlight.

I’d never had time to stop and look at this before. I even found the glowing body of Taurus Station where I guessed it should be, a silver coin on a field of glowing black velvet.

My sensitive stomach was good for something: it could tell when the drone made changes in velocity. The drone had surprised me by recoiling its tow cable and locking itself to the rear of the minishuttle, then performing the gut-wrenching flip prior to a braking burn.

For the thousandth time during the flight, I muttered I was never leaving Taurus again, and then the hulking wall of the Factory appeared below me. We passed into its shadow and I was engulfed in darkness as the drone found a cargo airlock.

A robotic arm extended from the wall on my left to grab the little ship. The arm wrenched me up and to the side, and then the deck rose at me faster than I expected. I dropped and pulled on Keldon with everything I had until his magboots and gloves couldn’t hold him anymore. He fell on top of me and I had to scramble back before the arm set the vehicle down on top of us.

I was in a cargo bay filled with crates, metal walls showing scars and rubbed paint. After scrambling behind a stack of cargo, shoulder aching from where I’d hit the deck, I drew my pistol and crouched.

My helmet’s HUD showed the results from a scan of the area, highlighting an exit airlock on the far side of the chamber. Dull lights from high above me seemed to make more shadows than anything, but I didn’t find anything but the cargo arm and shipping containers.

The tug drone detached from the rear of the minishuttle and placed itself in a storage rack near the base of the lift arm. Once the drone powered down, the cargo bay grew quiet. With no one else around, I took the opportunity to get Keldon back in the shuttle to hide him. I didn’t like moving him, possibly causing more injury, but I couldn’t just leave him out there without any means of protection.

After five minutes, I hunted around the area until I found a wall panel with basic directions to navigate the hab. It included a number of accessible files such as food menus in the local galleys and a sales announcement from the cantina system. I couldn’t believe that the Sheriff’s Office didn’t know about this place or that they just left this information for anyone to find, though I supposed they didn’t expect to be infiltrated.

Wait. Of course they knew about this place, and there was probably a reason they hadn’t taken it out. Either this station was useful to people in power, like James Carthage, or local law enforcement had no hope of routing a gang unit this large.

The size of the place didn’t change the fact that I was inside. Should I wait or try to find Kiren?

And if I found her, what was the likelihood of getting out alive?

What would Keldon do? I glanced at the minishuttle where the sergeant was hidden in stasis. I couldn’t forget that I needed to get him out as well.

The last bit of information I checked in the database was a map of the inhabited sections of the Factory. For a gang, I had to admit these people were organized.

Searching the map, I found a communications center that didn’t appear far from my location.

I figured the most important thing I could do right now was communicate. If I could get a message out to Tactical, I could let them know about Keldon and send the warning about what they were really getting into.

Straightening, I holstered my pistol and pulled off my helmet and hung it from my utility harness. The air tasted dusty and metallic but was otherwise okay.

I left the cargo bay through the internal airlock and found myself in a medium-sized corridor lined with closed doorways. The corridor was empty, so I set off in the direction where the communication center should be waiting.

The first ravager I encountered was a man in mechanic’s overalls sliding against the wall to keep himself upright, obviously drunk. I stepped around him, getting only a sloppy nod for acknowledgement, and continued on my way. The next turn dumped me in a main corridor lined by small vendors with items spread on sheets on the deck. People walked slowly down the corridor or haggled with vendors. The aroma of roasting meat floated above the crowd.

My stomach complained at the smell of the food, reminding me it had been hours since my last meal.

I put on my best approximation of bored determination and walked out into the crowd. I worked my way through the bazaar, which was crowded enough that I had to pull my helmet off the front of my harness and carry it beside me. The sight of someone in a full EV outfit might have seemed strange or even worrisome back on Taurus, but here people only complained about the room I was taking up.

When I was about a hundred meters from where I’d entered, I spotted a sign from the old ice processing factory indicating the comms station, and I followed the directions up a short set of stairs into another maintenance corridor. Things got quiet again, aside from the sound of my boots clicking on the metal deck. After several corners and two flights of stairs, I found the hatch to the communications center. There were no windows into the room, so I waited a minute in the corridor, listening for activity inside. All I heard were voices from the bazaar below me, so I activated the hatch and ducked inside.

“Who the hell are you?” a gruff voice demanded as I closed the hatch.

Well, shit.

A beefy woman with yellow ponytails stared at me from a workstation on the far side of the room. She was the only person present as far as I could see. There were a good ten meters of open space between us. I could duck back out, shoot her, or grapple. Whatever happened, it was going to be head-on.

“Maintenance,” I managed to say.

Her frown turned quizzical. “I didn’t call for maintenance. Did Kallaver send you down here? I told him I don’t need anybody’s help.”

I glanced at the hatch behind me and tapped its security panel, locking it from the inside.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “That needs to stay open.” The woman shook her head and started to tap something on her console.

“Wait!” I said quickly. The fact that she hadn’t tried to kill me immediately meant I might be able to talk my way into getting what I needed. “I’m not here to cause any trouble. I just need to use the console to get a message out.”

Her hand hovered above the controls, then dropped so she could push her chair away from the console. She stood and flexed her shoulders. The woman was easily a head taller than me.

Keldon would have told me to shoot her. Shoot her right now. Or would he? After the scene with Deathmonger on Rolo, I was starting to think Keldon’s advice boiled down to “Trust your gut, kid.”

“I need to get a message back to Taurus,” I said.

She paused. “Why not just use one of the public stations?”

“This was the closest place I could find.”

“If Kallaver catches me with someone else in here, he’ll string me up. Go use a public terminal.”

The woman sat back down and started typing furiously into the console. For a second I thought she was sending out an alarm. Then she laughed at whatever she’d just written. I flexed my hands, anticipating how difficult it would be to get her massive neck in a sleeper hold.

She glanced back at me. “You’re still here? Quit thinking about my ass and get out of here. I’m busy.”

I walked up beside her put my hand on her shoulder. She tried to turn, spitting curses, but I caught her around the neck in a sleeper hold and leaned back against the console to knock her off balance.

She laughed.

“Is that the best you’ve got, little man?” With a hard jerk, she tossed me over her shoulder. I hit the deck hard on my side and slid against the opposite wall.

I should have shot her.

I blinked until my eyes finally focused on the ceiling. A shadow covered my vision as the woman stood over me, tugging on her blond braids and baring her teeth.

“I’m going to break you in half,” she said.

I rolled over and scrambled away. She swiped at my legs, but missed.

“None of these other little people even give me the time of day, but you walk in here and start getting physical right away. It’s ridiculous. You thought you were going to knock me out? Well, I’m going to knock you out. Then I might pet you and name you George.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, getting on my feet.

I kept my back to the wall, sliding away from her as she approached. She cracked her knuckles.

“Look, I’m armed. I don’t want to use this.” I drew my pistol.

She laughed. “When you wake up tied in a knot, you can tell the other idiots that Haley showed you a good time.”

“Get back,” I warned. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“Don’t worry. You can’t.”

I really didn’t want to shoot her; she hadn’t done anything wrong. I waited until she was within arm’s reach then shot at the ceiling above her head. Haley ducked, shouting in surprise, and I slipped to one side. Swinging with everything I had, I cuffed her with the pistol against the side of her head.

Haley made a chirping sound and landed on her rear, legs spread in front of her.

“I told you,” I said.

I ran to the comms console and entered the Department’s secure frequency. Rather than bothering with voice, I sent a secure text message with my location and a summary of what I’d seen so far. I also requested medical evac for Sergeant Keldon.

I’d just hit send when the lights in the comms center dimmed and klaxons sounded in the corridor outside.

Holy shit, had they found me?

I looked around, spotting Haley leaned against the wall, when an announcement came over the speakers in the ceiling. “Incoming enemy vessels. Repeat, incoming enemy vessels. We are under attack.”

I stared at the comms console. Was I too late? Was this an attack from a rival bunch of criminals?

My question was answered when the terminal showed a response on the Department frequency, requiring my personal security token to answer. I entered the key, and a short message told me to stay where I was, Tactical was initiating an attack.

I’d been too late.

My mind raced. If Tactical tried to breach the Factory, they were going to fail horribly. Boots pounded in the corridor outside as people ran to their defensive positions.

I wasn’t going to ride out the attack in the comms center. I needed to do something to help the breaching teams, which meant sabotaging communications while I was here, then finding the station’s power source and shutting it down.

Should I do that or focus on finding Kiren and her friends?

If I shut down power and killed the gravity generators, the whole place would go into chaos, and Kiren would more likely be hurt.

Frustrated, I stepped away from the console and executed the first step in my plan, firing six rounds into the console’s AI stacks.

“Hey!” Haley shouted, confused. “Why are you doing that?”

With the console disabled, I turned to face her. She was still sitting, rubbing the back of her head.

“Didn’t you hear the warnings?” I asked. “We can’t let our communications fall into enemy hands. Will you help me?”

Haley climbed to her feet, frowning. It helped that another warning message sounded over the speakers. She stared at the ceiling before giving me a nod.

“I’m still mad that you hit me. You owe me for that.”

“I’ll make up for it, I promise.”

She looked more excited about the idea of payback than I liked. “It won’t do any good to shoot the AI stack. You want to cut the main network node. It’s behind that cabinet over there.”

She searched the wall and opened a large panel, then she reached inside and yanked out a handful of network filament, which cut another warning in the speakers off mid-sentence.

Haley nodded with satisfaction. “That did it.”

“Thank you,” I said. “You should get an EV suit on. This place isn’t safe.”

“Why didn’t you say that when you first came in? You didn’t have to hit me. I’ve got a lump.”

“I’m pretty sure I did,” I said. “Sorry about that.”

I moved to the door and gave Haley a wave with my pistol. The hatch opened and I stepped through.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I need to meet some friends.” I turned and ran back down the corridor toward the bazaar.

I had to find Kiren. Tactical breaching teams would focus on disabling the station. The first thing the enemy would try to do was get their prize off the station in the confusion of the fight. I needed to find Kiren and the others before that happened.

The bazaar I had just left was in chaos. Most of the shoppers were gone and the vendors were quickly grabbing up their belongings. I stood in the long corridor and realized I had no idea which way to go.

I pulled my helmet on so I could check the station map in my HUD.

One of the vendors stared at me in horror. “Are we losing atmosphere?”

I shook my head and walked past them. There was a command section on the map with a residential level just beneath it. That seemed like the most likely place to hold important prisoners. To get there, I’d need to climb ten levels and cross half the station.

I needed to go the opposite direction I was walking, so I turned back toward the frantic vendor. Standing in the opening I’d just come through was Haley.

Oh shit. Here we go.

I froze momentarily, then I reached for my pistol.

Her voice was muffled by the helmet. “If you’re looking for those girls, you’re going the wrong way.”

22

Haley led me down two levels to a maintenance tunnel wide enough for a party barge.

“They used to move the ice this way,” she said. “It runs the whole station.”

Leaving the ice tunnel, we climbed several levels and cut across-station again, passing groups of people preparing barricades and building defensive positions. With the overhead speakers cut out, everyone was acting independently, waiting for the breach teams that could arrive any minute. They must have been looking for teams of Sheriff’s deputies in uniform, because they paid me no mind and seemed to actively ignore Haley.

“I knew you were here for the bride,” Haley said. “You’re too clean to be from around here. She told me all about her wedding. It sounds wonderful and also a little sad. Can you imagine marrying someone you don’t even know?”

“I think she knows what she’s doing,” I said.

“Are you going to take that helmet off? I can barely hear you.”

I shook my head. “Protection,” I said. And I was using the HUD to verify our path.

“I guess you need it, scrawny as you are.”

Behind us, a commotion sounded, indicating Tactical had arrived.

“Hurry up,” Haley said. “We don’t want to get stuck down here.”

I ran after her, scanning frequencies with my helmet’s comms system with no luck. Tactical must have been operating on their own secure network. I wished I had my duty helmet and access to all the encrypted channels.

Haley continued talking cheerily, as if the station weren’t under attack. “I think they’ve been taken care of well enough—for this place, anyway. Clark was the one that snatched them, so he was in charge of their security. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near Clark for an extended period of time.”

“Is that why you’re helping me?” I asked. “You’re worried about them?”

“I hate Clark, plain and simple. If you’re the law like I think you are, I want you to shoot him in the crotch.”

“You could do that, too,” I suggested.

“It would be more satisfying if you did it and I watched. I let you live, after all.”

“How do you know so much about what Clark’s been doing?”

“I’m the comms specialist, I hear everything. All I do is sit up there thinking how much I hate Clark. When he showed up with three women, talking about what a great score he’d just made, I paid attention. He didn’t even seem to care about poor Cherise.”

I didn’t ask about Cherise. I figured she was in custody now, hating me as much as Haley hated Clark.

A low roar grew ahead of us. It sounded like we were about to enter some kind of power relay, when we passed from an empty corridor into a long, wide room full of partying gang members sitting at communal tables. The space must have been meant for heavy equipment at some point in the factory’s past. Now it was a fest. Men guzzled from mugs refilled by harassed servants navigating the rows. The metal walls were stained with spilled beer, bits of food, and what was probably dried blood.

“Don’t they know the station is under attack?” I asked.

“They’ll party until they have to fight. Come on. This is the quickest way to the command deck.”

Haley led the way down the middle of the room. A big man caught sight of her and stood from his bench. “Hey, Haley,” he called, raising a beer. “What are you doing? Get over here.”

“I’m busy, Red.”

“Who’s your friend there? Why are you wearing a helmet?”

Haley gave Red an exasperated look. “The station is under attack, if you didn’t notice.”

Red finished his beer and released a loud burp. “The station’s always under attack. What’s different this time?”

“It’s the Sheriff from Taurus Station.”

Red winked at Haley. “If we’re going to die, you and me should go find some place private.”

The tall woman shook her head, braids swinging. She leveled an angry gaze on the big man. I looked around, worried that more ravagers were starting to notice the exchange.

“You want to be alone so I can crush your balls—again?”

Red blinked as he calculated his chances between sex or pain, then turned his focus on me.

“We’re under attack,” Haley repeated. She turned away and Red caught her arm. Haley hit the big man once under the chin and he flung his free hand up in defense, losing his mug. Spraying beer, the heavy mug arced through the air and hit another bandit in the back of the head. After that, I couldn’t track the steps between the mug, the shouting, and a table getting flipped, but in just a few seconds, the fest hall had become a massive brawl.

Haley slammed Red against a table, freeing herself, then elbowed another man who tried to grab her from behind. I punched a ravager who swung randomly at me, and then twisted out of the grip of a fat man who grabbed my helmet from behind.

“Which way?” I shouted at Haley.

“The far side. The way we were going.”

The central path between the tables was clogged with bodies in seconds. I jumped on top of a table and ran across tabletops to reach the far side of the hall. I was searching for Haley in the brawl when a crackling sound filled the far end of the hall where we had entered. Several of the closest bandits howled and went stiff with spasms.

In black uniforms and armed with shock weapons, deputies from Tactical advanced into the hall. They filed along the back wall, hitting the closest hostiles as they kicked over tables to provide cover. The music hid the initial sounds of attack, and ravagers continued to fight each other as Tactical advanced through the fest hall. By the time the bandits realized they were under attack, the deputies had already seized a quarter of the hall.

I watched as Red turned in the middle of lifting a smaller man and took a shock round in the middle of his chest. He vibrated, holding the smaller bandit over his head, then toppled like a tree. They hit the floor together.

I tried the local comms net again and finally got a response.

“Who is this?” came the curt reply.

“Deputy Gage Walker. I’ve been told the hostages are in the area of the command deck.”

I sent my location info, as well as Keldon’s in the shuttle.

“Look,” the Tactical Commander said. “You need to get your head down and stay safe. We’re in heavy fighting everywhere. Once things quiet down, we’ll send someone for you. I’ll get Keldon as soon as I can spare the medic.”

“I’m headed for the command deck,” I said.

“Negative. You need to fall back and let the breach teams do their jobs. You’re in the middle of the hot zone.”

“Your teams are fighting through a small army and I’m on the other side,” I said. If I waited any longer, I wasn’t going to reach Kiren in time. “I’m going.”

They had me on their stat maps now. That was the best I could do.

Haley was caught up in the fighting and I couldn’t wait for her. I pulled up the station schematic again and ran for the command area. If Haley’s information was correct, I should find the old executive suites on the level just above the fest hall.

Leaving the fight behind, I entered a series of small corridors and then climbed a set of stairs to find the old admin area. Stolen goods filled the space. Racks of clothing, packaged delicacies, jewelry, weapons and ammunition, and even a cage full of winged creatures who screeched a chorus of, “Hey! Screw you!” as I jogged past.

The Tactical comms net was coordinating several attacks from the outside but had been bogged down by a drone fleet that no one had expected. Apparently the Sheriff hadn’t waited for Union support, so they lacked heavy weaponry or overwatch to defend the breach teams working on the station’s outer surface. Despite the madness in the fest hall, the gang was proving a determined and organized enemy.

I ran past several small groups setting up choke points and defensive positions in the wider hallways. A few glanced at me, noted my civilian attire, and continued their work. I didn’t hang around to give them time to question me, though I did send live feed from my helmet to Tactical. No one acknowledged receipt of the data.

Passing through a hatch that should have put me in the executive suite area, I nearly collided with Haley when she appeared from my left.

“There you are,” she said brightly, catching me in a rib-crushing hug. She was bleeding from a cut on her temple. “You came the long way. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

Blood from her cheek smeared on my faceplate, forcing me to pull the helmet off and try to wipe it clean.

“I was worried I wasn’t going to get there in time,” I said. “Are we close?”

Haley tugged on her braids. “You’re all sweaty, Deputy.”

“I’ve been running this whole way.”

“You aren’t wearing a uniform under that crappy shipsuit, are you?”

“No. Why?”

“No reason,” she said, giving me an intense look.

I pulled the helmet back on, which earned me a complaint from Haley, and checked my HUD. Still no response from Tactical on the data I’d sent. Updated combat positions showed that Tactical hadn’t made it out of the fest hall yet, while small unit skirmishes had tied up most of the breach teams on the outer edges of the station.

In short, Tactical was getting their ass kicked.

Haley waved for me to follow and led the way down several maintenance pathways that ended on a main corridor she said led to the command section.

“We’ll need to pass by Kallaver’s office, but we’ll stay out of sight.”

When we eventually passed a hatch wide enough to allow a cruiser through, I stopped and stared in surprise. The command section was similar to most operations centers I’d seen in training, with workstations and a central holomap of the station. A short man with a pointy beard and a gold sash stalked the deck in front of the map, shouting orders at people I couldn’t see.

“That’s Kallaver,” Haley said, tugging at my hand. “It’s better if he doesn’t see us.”

What surprised me was the sight of Franca and Trix standing on either side of the excited leader. After the shot they’d taken, I didn’t think they’d be up and about. Franca, the tough woman, wore a shipsuit with a pistol hanging at her hip, her black hair slicked back. Trix leaned against a console, balancing a long knife by its tip on her index finger.

Something didn’t ring true here. Had everything at Ronny’s been a ruse?

“We need to keep going,” Haley insisted.

Well, this complicates things.

I followed Haley, the image of the two traitors burned in my memory. A story was developing in my mind of a father who didn’t like that his daughter outshined him, so he contrived to ruin her business merger marriage with a kidnapping conducted by a ravager gang and the betrayal of her two friends. After an event like this, James could easily push Kiren out of the business for her safety, or some other useful excuse.

I was chewing this new theory when Haley announced, “Here we are.”

She slapped the security panel on a set of double doors, which slid open to show a broad apartment where Clark and Kiren were rolling on the floor. Kiren was currently underneath Clark, thumbs digging into the ravager’s eye sockets as he choked her with both hands.

Kiren was naked.

23

I drew my pistol and aimed at the back of Clark’s head. I was about to squeeze the trigger when Kiren rolled again, placing herself on top so she could slam the wiry man’s head against the deck, thumbs digging deeper into his eyes.

“Kiren,” I shouted. “Move!”

She glanced at me, raising one hand to motion for me to stop. “Who are you?” she said. “I’m busy. Keep walking or you’re next.”

I holstered my pistol long enough to yank off my helmet and throw it on the floor. “You sure about that?”

She grunted.

Drawing the weapon again, I walked forward so Clark could see me, too. His free eye blinked and rotated my direction. His mouth dropped open a bit as he recognized me, but he didn’t bother to talk, only trying harder to choke Kiren.

Kiren shoved her free thumb in Clark’s eye and continued pounding his head into the floor.

“Take your hands off his head,” I ordered.

Kiren didn’t listen. She slammed Clark’s pale head into the floor until his hands fell from her neck and he lay spread-eagled under her, unconscious. A line of blood leaked from his mouth.

Kiren narrowed her eyes, waiting. When she seemed satisfied that Clark was out, she straightened, stretching her neck, then raised her hands to tuck her red hair behind her ears. She stood and stepped over Clark to face me.

“You are the last person I thought I’d see here,” she commented.

She put her hands on her hips, apparently not bothered in the slightest by her state of undress.

“Hello to you, too,” I said, holstering my pistol. “Did you lose your clothes somewhere?”

Kiren jabbed Clark with her foot. “I was finally able to take a shower, and this one thought he could take advantage of me. He learned different.”

“He’s scum,” Haley agreed.

Kiren raised an eyebrow to the blond woman. “I don’t know you, but I can see you’re my people. Are you a cop, too?”

Haley laughed. “They wish I was. Do you want some clothes? You’re too skinny to be running around without insulation.”

Kiren glanced at me. “You know, Deputy, you can look at me. I’m not ashamed.”

I cleared my throat. “The station’s under attack by the sheriff. We need to get out of here before the place blows. First though, why are Franca and Trix in the command section with Kallaver?”

Kiren gave a sardonic laugh. “I’m not going anywhere until those bitches are dead. My things are over there.” She walked to the bathroom and reappeared with a pile of clothes, then she dropped them on the couch.

I retrieved my helmet as Kiren dressed. “Were Franca and Trix working for the gang this whole time?”

“I’ve never seen them before,” Haley said.

“Who’s she again?” Kiren asked.

“I’m Kallaver’s communications officer.”

“She’s helping me,” I said.

Kiren studied Haley for a second, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Even if they’re taking advantage of a bad situation, they haven’t done anything to try and get us out of here.”

“What did Clark tell you?” I asked.

“He meant what he said when he killed Ronny, then he shifted just like criminals do. He got quite the surprise when Kallaver didn’t let him call my dad.”

“Why didn’t he let him?”

“Kallaver probably wants to run the job himself. You think he’d let a screw-up like Clark manage my ransom?”

The lights flickered and went dark. Emergency lighting switched on in the apartment and the corridor outside.

“They must be going after the power,” I said. “We need to get out of here.”

“There’s a launch bay ten levels below command,” Haley said. “We have to go back by there, though. And I don’t know if there are actually any ships in there.”

“We’ll have to find out,” I said.

I pulled my helmet back on and checked the station schematic, verifying what Haley had just said. There was also an alert from Tactical Command. Someone had finally noticed my data feed.

“Deputy Walker, this is Sergeant Mendos. Where the hell are you? Your feed cut out. It looks like you’ve secured the victim?”

I jumped on the channel. “Sergeant Mendos, I’ve got her. We’re looking for a ship to get the hell out of here.”

“I’ve got your location,” Mendos said. “But I’ll be honest, we’re bogged down fighting. Our people aren’t equipped for this kind of attack.”

“I’m headed for a shuttle bay ten levels below my location,” I said. “I don’t have confirmation of any vehicles, though. If we get down there, do you have anything that can pick us up?”

“You reach that bay with Kiren Carthage and I’ll pick you up myself. It’s going to be hot. They’ve got a fleet of drone fighters harassing our support ships. Get in there and we’ll figure out the rest.”

“We’ll do it. Sergeant, do you have a status on Keldon? I left him in stasis and sent a location beacon.”

“Hold on.”

I waited as the line went quiet.

“We should go,” Kiren said. “What are you waiting for?”

I nodded. There was no reason we couldn’t move while I waited on the info. Then Mendos came back. “We’ve got him. He’s with Medical now. I think the last word was that he needed to be evacuated immediately and they were working on that, but there are a lot more wounded than we anticipated. We’ll get him out of here with the others as soon as we can.”

Relief surged through me at the news. “Thank you.”

“Thank me when we’re all back at Drake’s,” Mendos said. “Keep me updated on your progress to that shuttle bay.”

I looked up to find Kiren staring at me. “I can’t see your face when you’re wearing that thing,” she said. “What did they tell you?”

I opened my face shield. “Tactical is getting their asses kicked.”

Haley laughed. “We knew that. Don’t mess with the Factory!”

Kiren gave her a quizzical glance. “Why are you helping us, anyway?”

The tall woman shrugged. “I work in the comms section. All day I listen to jerks like Clark talk their crap. I thought it sounded like fun to ruin his plans.”

“How did you end up here?” Kiren probed.

Haley flipped her braids. “That’s a long story. Maybe later.”

I was ready to leave, but first I considered Kiren’s outfit and the fact that she was still wearing her party gear. “We need to get you in some different clothes. You’re going to stand out too much in that.”

“Anybody sitting on a wardrobe?”

“You need a shipsuit, anyway.” I glanced at Clark on the floor. “His will be big, but I don’t see any other options.”

“Allow me,” Haley said.

“Gross, but all right,” Kiren told her.

The two women pulled Clark out of his suit, not going easy on him. They dumped him face down on the floor in his dirty underwear.

Kiren wrinkled her nose at the suit. “It looks serviceable at least. Let’s try not to test it out.” She quickly pulled the suit on over her clothes and adjusted various straps for a better fit.

I motioned to Haley. “Lead the way.”

Haley followed the same path we had taken to reach the executive suites, which I realized would take us back to the main lifts. We walked like we had a purpose and barely got second glances from anyone we passed.

When we reached the command section, however, Kiren caught sight of Franca standing beside Kallaver and made a sharp right turn toward the entrance.

“Kiren,” I said sharply. “What are you doing?”

“What I told you I was going to do.” Fists clenched, she walked directly into the command center.

I slammed my face shield closed and set the HUD to track every person in the room. The count came back at seven. Most were sitting at workstations, with Trix, Franca, and Kallaver in the middle of the room.

“You traitors,” Kiren said loudly. Workers around the room turned to look at her.

I stood in the doorway, hand on my pistol without drawing it yet. Haley pushed past me to follow Kiren, obviously excited about the situation.

Kallaver turned from the holo and stared at Kiren. Though he was a small, round man, his face was sharp with an intelligent cruelty. He didn’t look like the type to hesitate on anything.

“Where’s Clark?” he demanded.

“Don’t worry about Clark,” Kiren said. “I’m right here.” She hit Kallaver with a hard, upward strike to the chin and he stumbled into the holo projection.

I kept my eye on Franca and Trix but they hadn’t moved.

Franca crossed her arms and chuckled as Kallaver struggled in the glowing image. “Took you long enough, Kiren.”

“Are you working with these people?” Kiren demanded.

“I work for myself,” Franca said. She glanced at Trix. “I don’t know about her, though.”

Trix shrugged. “This is a lot more fun than following you around.”

Kiren shook her head, looking between them. “You were the two people I actually thought I could trust.”

The holo stuttered and flashed out as Kallaver kicked its base unit and climbed back onto the viewing platform. He approached Kiren with his teeth bared.

“You just wasted your one shot at taking me out.” He pulled his fist back.

I drew my pistol. Before I could level on Kallaver, Kiren hit him again. Kallaver shouted in pain and protected his face with his hands, then he wiped blood from his nose and glared at Kiren.

“You’re the worst person I’ve ever kidnapped.” He waved at Franca. “Take her down. The money isn’t worth this.”

“Who hired you?” Kiren demanded.

“Why should I tell you?” Kallaver snarled.

Franca stepped forward, reaching for Kiren’s near hand. Kiren caught Franca’s hand before the stronger woman could touch her, and twisted in what looked like a dance move that pulled Franca’s arm behind her body. Kiren simultaneously maneuvered Franca around and shoved her toward Trix, who hadn’t been expecting to get slammed to the deck. Kiren followed her Franca-missile by stomping on Trix’s outstretched hand on the deck. Trix’s fingers crunched under Kiren’s heel and her knife went spinning away. She howled in pain.

Behind them, the holo had come back to life, showing combat points throughout the station and the drone fighters harassing the Taurus force like hornets. A larger orange icon appeared from a thousand kilometers outside the battlespace. At first, the orange diamond looked like a large bit of space junk Kallaver was tracking, until he asked one of the workers: “Is the EMP bomb in position?”

An electromagnetic pulse, if big enough, would render the Tactical team’s ships useless. They’d be dead in the water, just waiting for the enemy to destroy them. Any of Kallaver’s men caught within the pulse would be vulnerable too, but that didn’t appear to bother him too much.

Pausing in her combat stance, Kiren asked, “You have an EMP?”

Kallaver chuckled. “Military grade. They were trying to move it as heavy machinery parts. Imagine my surprise when I heard what we’d found. I’ve got three of them and I need to test one. This is a good situation for it, I think.”

I leveled my pistol at Kallaver’s head. “Stop this.”

“Who the hell are you?” the man demanded.

“Deputy Gage Walker. You’re under arrest.”

The chuckle turned into a full-throated laugh. “You’re going to arrest me? Do you even know where you are? What’s your plan, Deputy? You going to drag me back to Taur—”

I shot Kallaver in the shoulder.

He fell backward, grabbing at the railing on the viewing platform. As he struggled to stay upright, I addressed the crew at workstations. “Power down that weapon. Anyone who activates the EMP will be coming with me.”

It was a bluff, but I had to hope these people had at least a little humanity.

“Fire,” Kallaver shouted, voice warped with pain.

“Don’t do it.” I shifted my aim among the technicians. Several of them looked anxiously between me and Kallaver, weighing their options.

In the pause, I sent an emergency update to Mendos at Tactical Command. The sergeant acknowledged with “Hold. Assessing.”

That wasn’t the answer I hoped for.

I fired three round bursts, one into each workstation. Technicians cowered away from the exploding consoles as smoke filled the command deck.

“Call the comms section!” Kallaver shouted. “Have them activate it from there.”

I glanced at Haley, who would have been the person in comms. Kallaver hadn’t acknowledged her I wondered if he even knew she was supposed to be on his side. She just shrugged, as if to say who knows?

“We need to get out of here,” I told Kiren.

“How long have we got if they activate that thing?” Kiren said, leaning toward Franca.

“Go to hell,” the ex-soldier said, struggling to get out from under Trix, who only seemed focused on nursing her broken hand. Kiren pressed a boot in the middle of Trix’s back, trapping Franca in place.

“You’re screwed,” Franca said. “If you leave, you’ll be flying right into the dirty bomb. You’ve got maybe fifteen minutes before all local space is flooded with radiation.”

“Let’s get out of here,” I said.

Haley grinned like she was having a fine time. Kiren kicked Franca a second time and walked calmly through the exit hatch, looking like she wanted to stay and abuse them some more.

As I left the command deck, Kallaver was stumbling among the workstations, yelling at his technicians. Franca rolled over and kicked Trix off her. The muscled woman glared at me and then looked past me to Kiren, who flashed her middle finger as she disappeared around the corner.

I activated the command section’s security door on the way out. When the hatch was closed, I shot the panel with five good blasts, burning its controls.

“Walker,” Mendos called. “We’ve got an update on that weapon.”

“I’m here, sergeant.”

“We’re pulling everyone out. Kallaver doesn’t know what he has. That thing can take out all of this, including the Factory. That means life support will be off. You need to either find one of our breach ships or another way off that station, understand?”

“Got it.”

“All right,” Mendos said. “Keep me updated and we’ll send you help once you’re down there.”

“If I don’t, you can figure something bad happened.”

Mendos chuckled. “Don’t get pessimistic yet, trainee. You’ve got your whole career ahead of you.”

24

There was more fighting in the levels between the command center and the shuttle bay. As Tactical forces initiated retrograde operations, the gang pressed back harder, doing their best to pin them down and cut teams off. Twice Haley led the way down a corridor to find a locked interior hatch.

We passed the bodies of several bandits in the corridors, suits peppered with bullets. Discarded equipment and smashed barricades littered our path, and when we finally reached the main lifts, we found them in lockdown status.

“Looks like we get to climb down,” Haley said, still sounding cheery like she was on vacation. She removed a wall panel beside the lift and revealed a ladder adjacent to the shaft.

“How many levels?” Kiren asked.

“Seven to go. This is going to be a shortcut. I’ll go first.”

I was last in the tube. I holstered my pistol and arranged the panel so I could replace it from the inside, then started the long climb down. The tube must have been shielded, because once I was inside, I lost my connection with Mendos.

“You think they’re going to find another way to set off that bomb?” I asked Haley.

“Personally, I think Kallaver was bluffing. But we may have pissed him off enough that he would do it anyway. That’s a pretty useful thing for him to waste on a bunch of Taurus deputies, no offense.”

“None taken,” I said. “Without the Union, we don’t have any way of dealing with it. He also doesn’t seem to care about all the squatters out there in the Chop. A bomb like that could kill a lot of people.”

“Doesn’t this station trade with all those people?” Kiren asked.

“Sure does,” Haley said. “The more I think about it, you’re probably right. It’s a terrible idea. But Kallaver’s also a crazy person, so who knows.”

“I’m surprised someone trusted him to kidnap me,” Kiren said.

I looked at her. “What have you been doing since the party, anyway?”

“Sitting in the room where you found me. Clark kept me tied up in his shuttle, then he walked me up there and put a guard on the door. It was pretty boring until he showed up trying to make moves on me.”

“Where did you learn how to fight like that?” I asked.

“Dancing and fighting have their crossover points.”

“I never thought of it that way.”

“My dad has always been worried about my safety. I’ve been attending martial arts since I could walk. At this point it’s hard not to put someone in a pressure hold.”

Below us on the ladder, Haley laughed. “I knew I liked something about you.”

“And you still don’t know who would have hired Kallaver to do this to you?” I asked.

“The questions are starting to get annoying, Gage. I don’t know.”

I debated asking about the deal in the boutique, then went ahead. “What were you doing with that clerk in the boutique? You didn’t buy anything, but you went out for a private meeting with him, and everyone got secretive while you were gone.”

“Boutique?” Kiren asked. “Oh. That was a little something for the party. Normally he would have sold me the stuff at the counter but he was worried because you were there.”

“I’ll be honest, the three of you looked like a little gang of your own.”

“Well, I thought they were my friends.”

“It looked like more than that,” I said.

“Franca and Trix have been with me for two years. They’re basically my bodyguards. I don’t know what was offered to them to sell me out, but it had better have been a lot.” Irritation had edged into her voice, warning me she’d just about had enough.

“Sorry. It must be hard not to be able to trust anyone.”

Kiren got quiet. Below us, Haley paused at a short landing and tapped on the side of the tube. The panel opened, spilling light on the ladder, and she stepped out. We followed.

The new corridor looked more industrial than the area we’d left. Ribs supported the walls, and the deck was covered in directional markings for cargo drones.

“The bay is this way,” Haley said, pointing right.

Outside the tube, I picked up Tactical’s signal again. I sent a status update, prompting a response from Mendos.

“Walker. I thought we lost you.”

“Not yet. We had to take a bypass.”

“Good,” he replied. “We’re getting the last teams off now. This isn’t going to look good. We’ve taken heavy losses. You found a shuttle yet?”

“Working on that. I’ll let you know.”

The corridor widened ahead of us, with an entrance along one wall that led into the cargo bay. Through the first set of observation windows, we spotted the huge external airlock, and below it the flight deck with three shuttles in dock.

I felt a sense of relief when I saw the vehicles, until the rest of the bay came into view, bringing with it a group of Kallaver’s men sitting on crates in front of the shuttles, surrounded by weapons and ammunition crates. Their suits and helmets suggested they were an attack team waiting to deploy.

I stopped Kiren as she was about to charge through the door into the bay.

“Hold on. Those guys outgun us easy.” I looked at Haley. “Any options?”

Haley chewed her lip. “The control station for the bay is down there. We could open the main airlock.”

“Space them?” I asked. “That’s brutal.”

She shrugged. “They’re wearing EV suits. Plus they’ll just kill you if you go in there.”

“Don’t you even care that these people are on your side?” Kiren asked.

Haley waved a hand. “There’s no side here but money. They’d do the same thing to me if it meant getting a better dessert in the chow hall.”

Kiren shook her head. “How can you live like this?”

“How can you run a mine?” The retort was surprising from Haley. She was definitely sharper than she appeared. “It’s the best option. We try to fight them and we run the risk of damaging the airlock or one of the shuttles. They won’t be expecting it. And they’re trained to deal with this sort of thing, right?”

“Right,” Kiren said, mollified by the mines remark.

“Don’t worry,” Haley said, slapping Kiren on the shoulder. “We’re going to get you out of here safe and sound. Maybe you’ll be in charge of Carthage Mining instead of your father. I’d see that as doing my part to help downtrodden people everywhere. You stay here. I’ll walk through and head up to the control booth. They won’t suspect me.”

“Are you sure?” Kiren asked. I watched her hide a distrustful glance.

“I think it’s a good idea,” I said quickly. I didn’t need the two of them fighting.

“Don’t worry about me.” Haley flicked one of her braids and walked through the bay entrance onto the main flight deck. We stayed around the edge of the door where we could watch without being seen.

One of the soldiers straightened when he saw Haley approach, then relaxed and waved.

“You sure we can trust her?” Kiren asked.

“Nope, but she hasn’t betrayed me yet. If she sells us out with those guys, I’m going to start shooting from here. They’re out in the open.”

“All right,” Kiren said, not sounding pleased with the plan. We sat for another minute as Haley got caught up in a conversation with the others. Her arms went wide as she started describing the fight in the fest hall.

“Let me ask you something,” I said. “This marriage. Is it a real thing?”

Kiren glanced at him. “Why do you care?”

“It’s a big part of the puzzle. What does your fiancé think about all this?”

“George? He loves drone racing and money. He could care less about me. He’s as ready to do the deal as I am.”

“That’s not what his father said. You’re not the least bit attracted to him?” I asked, surprised.

She ignored the first thing I’d said and zeroed in on the attraction. “Why does that matter?”

“No, then. Well, that’s sad.”

She furrowed her brow. “I didn’t ask your opinion.”

“You’re right. That was out of line. But would he benefit in any way if you didn’t get married?”

“He stands to gain a lot in this deal, just like me. It’s not complicated.”

“He hasn’t done much to support saving you is why I’m asking,” I said.

She shrugged. “Did you ask him to help?”

“I haven’t met him.”

Kiren gave me another sideways glance. “You sound jealous, Deputy Walker.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m trying to figure out who did this to you.”

“I have my ideas,” Kiren muttered.

Haley had finally left the group on the deck and crossed to the stairs leading to the control booth. She disappeared from view and a green light flashed at the top of our doorway, then it closed, blocking the bay from view. We had to move a few meters to watch through the windows.

No one seemed to have noticed the upper doors closing. Two tossed a grenade back and forth while another small group squatted in a circle throwing dice.

A warning klaxon honked inside the bay and they immediately stood to look up at the control booth. Several pointed, while the soldier Haley had talked to spread his arms in a questioning gesture. The klaxon increased intensity, and one of the grenade throwers grabbed his helmet.

In another twenty seconds, they had figured out the situation. The klaxon shifted to a single tone, and the external airlock opened on vacuum. The atmosphere in the bay blew into space, while the soldiers in their EV suits remained standing on the deck, looking up at Haley in the control booth and gesturing wildly.

“Damn it,” I said. “Magboots. Of course.”

“So they’re not going anywhere?” Kiren asked.

“It would appear that way.” I spotted a utility cabinet in the opposite wall and opened it to find utility shipsuits with helmets. I pulled down one of the helmets and tossed it to Kiren.

“You know how to use this?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Duh.”

“Looks like we’re going EV.”

The thought worried me less than fighting a group with superior numbers and firepower. I waited as Kiren donned the helmet and sealed her suit. When she was ready, I handed her a pistol from the cabinet.

“When we open the airlock on their side, we need to take out as many of them as we can before we even get in the bay,” I said.

“No kidding,” she replied, tone dry.

“What I mean is that we need to coordinate. I’ll tell you where to focus your firepower.”

“Let’s do this,” she said.

“Hey.” Haley’s voice reached us on a secure channel. “What are you two doing?”

“We’re figuring out how to fight these guys since they didn’t get spaced,” I said.

“Oh, they’re about to. I’m bringing in some maintenance drones with cutting torches.”

“Ouch,” Kiren said. “That sounds terrible.”

“I know, right?” Haley laughed. “When I told Gage I’d help him, I had no idea this was going to be so much fun.”

Three heavy drones appeared in the open space of the main airlock, their thrusters blasting jets of steam. They moved as a unit, spreading out in a line once they entered the bay. Each drone had an articulated arm with a blue-tipped torch on the end, which dropped beneath its body as they closed on the now panicking group.

The nearest two ran, leaving their associates behind without a backward glance. The remaining four had the presence of mind to take cover. A drone burned a trough through one of the crates killing the man who’d been cowering behind it.

Those that remained went for the next closest airlock: ours.

There was no cover in the corridor if they came back inside. I pulled Kiren inside the airlock with me and closed the interior door. I cycled the airlock, then stopped it before the exterior door into the bay could open. As long as there were people inside, the door’s safety mechanism wouldn’t allow anyone in the bay to get out.

“Good thinking,” Kiren said.

The two running soldiers hit the door and hammered on its security panel. One of them looked through the window and spotted us, but didn’t have time to alert the others before a drone cut him down.

The soldiers with weapons appeared to realize they had a giant exit into open space and fired on the drones as they retreated toward the open cargo doors. One went down as the remaining three ran for the opening and disappeared over the side.

The drones formed a line at the cargo airlock and lowered themselves to the deck to park, resembling the crates all around them.

“I’ll have the drones guard the opening,” Haley said. “You’re safe to come in.”

I restarted the airlock and waited for the door to finish its cycle.

“You want to take bets on whether Haley is going to turn the drones on us?” Kiren asked quietly.

“No,” I said. “If she does, I’ll pin them down and you run like hell.”

Kiren shook her head. “You are too literal for your own good. I’m going to offer her a job.”

“I’ll bet you she stays,” I said.

“I’ll take that bet. I’m hard to refuse.”

The door opened on the remains of the two bandits who had died just outside, globules of blood floating near their bodies. I stepped around them, magboots clicking on the deck, and got my bearings in the wide bay. Finding the three shuttles on the far side, I walked in that direction.

“Which shuttle should we take?” I asked Haley.

“The first one should be fine. I’m running a systems check now. That one looks like it’s got the best maintenance.”

“Are you coming out here?” Kiren asked.

Haley laughed. “I’m fine up here. I’ll make sure local space is clear for you with the drones.”

“Haley,” Kiren said. “I want you to come with us.”

“Me? Oh, no. I like it here. I’ve had enough of the straight edge life.”

“Won’t Kallaver come after you?” I asked.

“He’s a pussy cat. He needs me to make his comms work. And I can say the mean deputy overpowered me with his good looks and charm. Kallaver knows I’m a sucker for a pretty face.”

“If you come work for me, I’ll make you richer than Kallaver ever could,” Kiren said.

“That’s kind, but I don’t live for money. In fact, I really don’t like money, much. It just causes problems.”

I reached the shuttle and mounted its access stairs.

“Opening the hatch for you,” Haley said.

I waited for the rectangular hatch to slide to one side, then climbed up and through. Inside, I found a small passenger area that would probably hold ten, as well as a weapons locker and head. I walked up to the pilot’s seat and sat down. Kiren followed and slid into the co-pilot’s seat.

“I guess you won that bet,” Kiren said. “How’d you know?”

“Just had a feeling.”

I was running my own systems check when Mendos sent a hail.

“Walker, did you find a shuttle yet? We saw one of their cargo bays open up and it looked like there was some fighting.”

“That was me.” I figured it wouldn’t help to mention Haley.

“Hurry up,” the sergeant told me. “We finally got support from the Union. They’ve got a heavy ship inbound. As soon as all our units are clear, they’re going to knock that rat’s nest out of space. So get your ass out of there.”

I acknowledged the order and switched back to the general net. “Haley, change of plans. You’re coming with us.”

She answered in singsong: “You’ll have to come up and get me.”

I unstrapped from the pilot’s seat and stood, leaving Kiren to finish the checks.

“If that’s what I have to do, I’m on my way.”

Kiren raised an eyebrow. “If I couldn’t convince her, how are you going to do it?”

“With my pretty face, of course,” I said.

25

The Union destroyer didn’t do a good job wrecking the Factory. As we watched the attack on our shuttle’s display screen, it was obvious the destroyer lacked the necessary firepower to do any real damage. Waves of missiles hit the square station and exploded, leaving a burnt crust that only hid the interior areas.

Haley whistled. “It wasn’t pretty before, but now it’s going to look like a burnt marshmallow.”

“Is this actually going to hurt Kallaver’s gang?” Kiren asked.

“Not at all,” Haley said. “He has bunkers hidden away that can withstand major attacks. I don’t think even a real nuke could crack the Factory. And if it did, we’re resilient. We’ll just move to another part of the Chop and start over again. That’s what we do. We’re survivors.”

“You sound like you’re going to miss them,” I said.

She shrugged. “Oh, I’m not leaving. They’re my family. I might leave for a little while, but I’ll be back. Besides, you think those dummies are going to find someone else to monitor the comms out of Taurus Station? Nope.”

I gave her a sideways glance, wondering if she’d forgotten who I was or just didn’t care.

Mendos had told me to set the shuttle on a course in the convoy of Tactical ships leaving the area. As I programmed the course, following the path back to Taurus through the CZ, I couldn’t shake the feeling that getting out of the Factory had been too easy.

“Kallaver seems like kind of a pushover, honestly,” I said. “He let us leave.”

Haley chuckled. “He hasn’t let us leave. He’s going to attack the cops when they reach the middle of the Chop. We’ve got drone fleets hidden in the junk fields. It’s going to be a slaughter.”

I stared at her. “You realize we’re following them back to Taurus, right?”

“We are? That’s a dumb thing to do.”

I glanced at Kiren.

“Don’t look at me,” she said. “You’re the pilot.”

Switching back to the law enforcement channel, I hailed Mendos and shared Haley’s intel.

“You’re sure about that?” Mendos asked. “We scanned the route and there aren’t many places to hide a significant attack force. Why are you bringing this person back with you, anyway?”

“She’s a witness,” I said quickly. “She’s got info on the kidnappers. And she helped us, so her life is in danger.”

“No, it’s not!” Haley said. I held up my finger for her to be quiet.

“Right,” Mendos said. “Good thinking. There’s still a case to work here.”

“So you’re not going to change course?”

“I passed the info up to command,” Mendos said. “I haven’t seen any changes come back. They’ll assess the situation and send a change order. And it looks like the Union destroyer is done with its target. They’ll be following in a minute.”

I stared at the course, trying to predict where the attacks would come from. “They aren’t going to be able to catch up in time if we come under attack, Sergeant. We’re going to be on our own.”

“What did I say about pessimism, trainee?”

I closed the channel and sat back in my seat. Kiren and Haley had heard the exchange.

“You’re sure they’re going to attack?” Kiren asked Haley.

Haley tugged her braids again. “That’s the usual plan. We get attacked by private fleets all the time. Kallaver lets them think they’ve won then wrecks them out in the junk field. He’s got the whole thing mapped, so he can track all the moving objects and use them as cover. The other ships usually never know what hit them. Makes more junk for the field.”

“This shuttle is defenseless,” I said. “They attack, we’re depending on a bunch of cops to fight a space battle.”

“That seems like a bad idea,” Kiren said.

“You think?”

“We haven’t changed course,” Kiren pointed out. “Is your plan to follow the cop ships until they serve as bait and then run the other direction?”

“That’s not a bad plan,” I said. “But I’m not leaving my fellow deputies to get slaughtered.”

Haley leaned between the two pilot’s seats, looking between Kiren and me. “Are you afraid of dying?”

“Do you think we’re going to die?” Kiren asked.

Haley shrugged. “I think you have to always be ready to die. You know your spark wants to rejoin the light.”

Kiren frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Your spark. Everything from the tiniest ant to the biggest sea creature on Mara has the same vibrant tiny spark propelling them through existence. And our sparks are the greatest of all, because we were cursed and blessed with consciousness.”

“Mara’s an ocean planet, right?” Kiren asked.

“Have you been there?” Haley’s eyes went wide. “I really want to visit. I want to swim with the alien jellyfish.”

I focused on the navigation panel, watching the Taurus ships as they moved methodically along the course Tactical had plotted through the Chop. So far, the scan returns along the route were dead. Our shuttle was at the rear of the column, with only a small rear guard and the Union destroyer behind us.

I had to admit, I’d never appreciated just how dense the CZ was until I had the opportunity to fly through it. In open space it would have been easy to avoid. Since it was the fast track to Taurus from CZ, getting around it would take more fuel than most smaller crafts had.

The gunfight with the two hitmen on the blasted tank had been a good lesson in orbital mechanics, too. So when our view screen looked like a solid wall of rotating, smashing, spinning junk, I knew there was a little bit of space out there to slip through, but not a lot.

Haley was going on about the wonders of the sea world Mara when the attackers appeared on the scan display. Out of the wall of junk, hundreds of hostile icons blinked into view on either side of the Taurus convoy, swiftly shifting to containment on all sides, matching velocity as they opened fire with barrages of missiles, projectile cannons, and directed energy weapons.

“What’s that?” Haley asked, straightening and looking at the display. “Has the fight started?”

The lead Tactical ship lit its engines in a full burn to escape the kill zone. Following vessels launched in all directions, finding paths among the wild debris. Several slammed into objects that out-massed them and exploded. Those that weren’t destroyed by course miscalculations were chased by waves of the enemy.

“Is that real?” Kiren asked, pointing at the screen.

“Unfortunately,” I said. “This is bad.”

“That’s a light way of putting it,” Kiren said. “Can you get us out of here?”

I focused ahead of me. “We’ll find out.”

My experience piloting small vehicles was limited to personal transports during mining operations and the offensive driving course at the Academy. Vehicles on Taurus Station spent most of their time navigating streets packed with tourists and partygoers. My training in open space had been only a few hours, most of which I’d spent trying not to throw up. In any case, that was designed to teach deputies to conduct breaching operations in local space just outside the station, mostly for smuggling and drug interdiction.

In reality, the shuttle’s system was designed to be operated by AI. The pilot set the destination and the shuttle found the best route. Most AI nav systems weren’t designed for dense places like the Chop Zone, and certainly didn’t have a setting for combat conditions.

I set the navigation AI to suggestion mode just as a flight of fighters advanced on our position.

“Look out!” Haley shouted.

There was no time to wait for the nav system. I lit the main thruster. On the display, I watched our little shuttle rise in a long parabola above the plain of the Chop. Behind us, the Union destroyer was fending off more of Kallaver’s ships. Several broke off to chase us, spreading out as they fired a barrage of projectile weapons.

“Do we have anything we can use against them?” Haley asked, head pressed back in her seat.

“Just our brains,” I said. “You got any ideas? This shuttle isn’t meant for this.

“Ram them?” Kiren asked.

Haley laughed. “You’ll crack the hull open..”

The wide structure of an ancient mining rig rose in the display. I set a course through the rotating metal grid and felt a bit of relief as some of our assailants impacted with the metal struts, sending the rig spinning in a new direction. The rest dodged the rig and continued to track us.

Shooting through more debris, I hunted for objects to use as cover. I had a good scan lock on the fighters, so I could at least track them as they shot forward and fell back. My only hope was that they would get far enough from the Factory that the gang would either call them back or redirect them to a better target.

We entered an area where the debris field thinned, leaving wide open swaths of space with little cover.

“Hold on,” I said, initiating a braking burn and flipped the shuttle to head back into the debris field, telling the AI to find more large objects. The nav computer quickly identified an object that looked large enough to be a station in its own right, and I opened the engines with three fighters still pursuing.

“There we go.” Braking again, I used the adjustment thrusters to match spin and drop the shuttle in the middle of a nest of ancient collection tanks and connecting girders. I barely avoided crushing the shuttle on a long cylinder before activating the landing locks. The shuttle skidded before it stopped, then maglocked to the more massive object and floated with it. I cut active scan and powered down the shuttle’s systems until we sat in the dark.

“Now let’s hope we just hid well enough,” I said.

Kiren and Haley said nothing as we waited.

I still had a low-power comms link with Tactical through my helmet, allowing me to watch. The icons darted past us in my HUD, close then executing wider sweeps. I realized I was holding my breath.

In another few minutes, the drones moved on to another section of the Chop and then changed course to return to the Factory.

“I think we’re clear,” I said.

“Nice flying.” Kiren gave me an appraising glance. “I didn’t realize you were so useful.”

“You’re bad at giving compliments.” Haley slapped my shoulder. “He was great.”

“Thank you,” I said, studying my HUD. “I’m going to wait another thirty minutes before I reengage the active scan. It looks like most of the convoy is clear, but they haven’t sent an update.”

“Are you going to send a message that we’re all right?” Haley asked.

“Too much power. If we pop up with EM, I’m afraid the enemy will find us.”

Haley relaxed in her seat and put her hands behind her head. “I guess we’ll have to play a game. Do you know any waiting games?”

“I hate games,” Kiren muttered.

I tried to calculate how long it should take the Tactical convoy to clear the Chop. What I needed to do was set a timer so I could stop obsessively checking my HUD, but that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe I should try anyway.

I opened my eyes to start the timer and was surprised to find my HUD filled with red icons. At first I thought it meant the shuttle was being swarmed by drones. Then I realized the location was still set on the convoy. They were under even heavier attack.

I zoomed in. The attacking fleet had expanded from merely fighters. It looked like every criminal in the Chop had jumped at the opportunity to attack. Tactical ships throughout the convoy lost their shields and then blinked out of operation. I could only imagine the devastation on each vessel.

Haley looked at the screen. “What is that?”

“The convoy is under attack,” I said. “We’re losing ships. A lot of ships.”

“They don’t know where we are, do they?” Kiren asked.

“I don’t think so. Looks like everything is concentrated on the convoy.”

A few Tactical ships continued to progress until they reached the edge of the Chop, where they were clear to accelerate into full burn. By the time the attack was finished, I counted only ten ships out of thirty having reached safety. One troop transport tried to accelerate and broke apart, scattering debris that slowed down the following craft.

When the last ship cleared, I breathed a sigh of relief and set a new timer. We would wait another thirty minutes and check the passive scan feed. If the area was clear, we’d run.

I turned to the others to share my plan, when the shuttle’s proximity alert screamed in our ears, indicating an inbound object. A missile? Who fired?

The world flashed white.

26

Our transport raced silently across an outer section of Taurus, multi-colored lights from the surrounding streets smearing across its darkened windows. I sprawled in my seat, tired to the bone, studying the scarred shell of my helmet. I guess I took more fire than I thought. There were scorches on my suit as well, and a few pinholes where the outer lining had been shredded and battered. After the missile attack, I couldn’t help wondering if this was some kind of afterlife and I hadn’t realized yet. I ached everywhere.

Thanks to a salvage outfit who’d already been in the area hoping to make some credits off the short lived battle, we’d been rescued and taken back to Taurus. An order had come down from Nagel for me to report in, but I’d already been on my way to take Kiren home.

She and Haley sat across from me. Kiren sat upright in her seat, concentration elsewhere, while Haley pulled her braids and commented on the sights outside the windows.

“It’s so bright here,” she said. “And all the colors. What’s that all about?”

“Casinos and hotels,” I said. “You haven’t been here before?”

“I came to the Chop in an ice hauler. Never made it this far.”

“I’ll show you around,” Kiren said. “Don’t worry.”

“I want ice cream,” Haley said. “And then I want some comms equipment.”

Kiren nodded. “That’s going to be an interesting shopping trip, but I’m in.”

I was still a little surprised the sergeant at the docks let us leave. After squinting at me and verifying my identity, the old timer had relayed the Sheriff’s order and then gone back to counting survivors off the remaining ships. Everyone looked shell-shocked as the complete scope of the loss became understood. I hadn’t waited around for anyone who outranked me to give other instructions.

“Are they going to give you a medal?” Kiren asked.

I stared at her. “Why?”

“You did come after me single-handedly.”

“I didn’t do it alone. Jack Keldon got us there and Tactical kept the gang busy.” I nodded to Haley. “Without Haley’s help, I wouldn’t have gotten far. And if I remember correctly, you had a pretty good start on rescuing yourself.”

“You got the ball rolling, though,” Kiren said. “I won’t forget that.”

She pulled her messy red hair into a ponytail at the back of her neck, hazel eyes fixed on me.

I only nodded, too tired to say anything witty. The pieces of the last thirty-six hours still didn’t add up, but I figured the important fact was that the woman sitting across from me was safe. I couldn’t stop thinking about her father’s face when he said, “You’re still alive.”

The words hadn’t been spoken with concern for my well-being. I’d thought he was saying I hadn’t tried hard enough to save Kiren. But Carthage had seemed irritated that I wasn’t dead, as if something hadn’t gone to plan. If I’d been carrying Carthage’s handgun, I might have been lying dead on the floor with Ronny. One thing was for sure: James Carthage had been involved on some level.

Now that Clark was dead, the only person left to question was Cherise.

“Your gears are turning over there,” Kiren said.

I looked over at her. “Trying to figure out who planned all this.”

“The abductions?”

“Right.”

“Does it matter?” she asked. “Petty criminals looking for a score.” Kiren glanced at Haley and added, “No offense.”

“I wouldn’t call Kallaver’s operation petty,” Haley said. “They did just wipe out most of your police force.”

“Clark, then,” Kiren said. “He didn’t have a lot of future orientation, from what I saw.”

Haley shrugged. “The future is overrated.”

We slowed to a stop as we arrived at the Carthage headquarters. I stood and stretched, waiting for the door to open. I filed out after Haley and Kiren to stand in the opulent lobby. A drone in the entryway acknowledged Kiren and required her approval to allow Haley and me access.

“Not much fanfare,” I said.

Kiren shrugged. “I’ll have about twenty minutes of peace before word gets out.”

We boarded the lift for the upper levels and rose silently. When we reached Kiren’s level, she led the way down a carpeted hallway with only two apartments then stopped at the door halfway down, unlocked the security panel, and motioned for Haley to enter.

“This apartment is yours,” she said. “Stay as long as you like. I still want to talk to you about that job.”

Haley poked her head through the door without crossing the threshold. She nodded as if it would do. From what I could see, the space was a palace.

“I’ll consider your offer,” Haley agreed. “But first we’re going shopping for that equipment, right?”

“Of course,” Kiren said.

The tall woman nodded approval, then surprised me with a sudden hug that lifted me off the floor. I didn’t fight, and when she was satisfied, she set me back down.

“Don’t be a stranger, Deputy,” she said. “You’re good comic relief.”

Now I didn’t know if my aching chest was from the missile attack or Haley’s hug. I thanked her again for her help then jogged forward when she slapped my ass.

Haley brayed laughter as she closed her door. The sound of her appreciating the apartment came through to the other side.

“She likes you,” Kiren noted.

“Let’s hope not.”

We walked to the end of the corridor, which ended on a security door.

Kiren pressed her back to the door and looked up at me. She brushed her hair out of her eyes. “This is me.”

I rubbed the rim of my helmet. “Well, this part of the mission is finished. But I still mean to find out who did this to you.”

“I keep saying I’m back. The wedding can continue.”

I shook my head. “If we don’t bring whoever did this to justice, it’s going to happen again. You aren’t married yet.”

Kiren took the helmet out of my hands and held it at her side. She stepped toward me.

I paused, not sure what she wanted.

“You’re right. I’m not married yet.” Kiren grabbed one of the harness straps on the front of my shipsuit and pulled me toward her. She angled her face up and kissed me. When I started to pull away, the hand on my chest went to the back of my neck, holding me in place. Her hand was warm against my skin, her lips insistent.

“Mmm,” Kiren said eventually. “That’s a proper thank you. I could get lost in a man like you. That’s why I can’t. Besides, I’d ask you to come in but I know you won’t.” She held me with her gaze.

If I was in trouble with the Sheriff anyway, why not stay? Something about the situation felt off, though. Kiren had a way of always looking like a trap.

“I should go,” I said.

“Of course. That’s what you should do. Good night, Deputy.”

Kiren’s hazel eyes lingered on my face for another few seconds, extending the invitation, and then the door slid open and she stepped inside.

A male voice said, “Kiren, you’re here.”

“George?” she asked.

A suite lay on the other side of the door, and a young man was standing from the couch near a broad set of windows. He crossed quickly to the entryway. I recognized George Joyce from the image in his father’s office.

“You’re safe.” He caught her in an anxious embrace before catching sight of me. “I take it you saved her?” George asked, looking at me.

Before I could answer, Kiren pulled away and motioned at me. “This is Deputy Walker. He was my bodyguard during the attack, and he followed us all the way into the Chop. Fought his way into Kallaver’s Factory and got me back.”

The painting hadn’t been far off. George was thin with translucent blue eyes. He looked well-meaning enough, with a brittle edge. He grabbed my free hand and shook it vigorously.

“The news about the police ships that were lost is all over the news feeds. It must have been a blood bath out there.”

“We were hit by an enemy missile,” Kiren said, as if it had been an enjoyable experience.

The news seemed to hit George like a knife between the shoulder blades. He winced.

“A missile? And you survived?”

“It only took the rear section off our shuttle,” I explained. “Fortunately, we were picked up by salvage crews fairly quickly. Those were some heroes out there.”

George put his arm around Kiren, a gesture she accepted somewhat awkwardly. “We need to sit you down,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m fine,” Kiren said. “I’d like a shower though. I feel filthy.”

I couldn’t help thinking about the last time she’d tried to take a shower, and the sight of her fighting Clark. Hopefully George never made her angry; he wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Do you want to eat with us?” he asked me.

I shook my head. “No, thank you. I need to get back and file my report. You all have a nice night, now.”

Kiren raised an eyebrow at me, a gesture George couldn’t see. I stepped away from the door and it slid closed, leaving me alone in the hallway.

I stood there for a few more seconds, thinking about that kiss. Already, I couldn’t tell if there had been any emotion there or if the gesture had been a calculated move. A challenge. Everything about Kiren Carthage was a challenge.

Considering my next steps before reporting to Sheriff Nagel, I turned to leave. In the lift, I had just decided to go back to my apartment to sleep for a few hours when the car stopped on its own. The doors opened on a corridor I recognized as the one I’d taken previously to visit James Carthage.

Realizing it wasn’t an accident, I walked to the apartment at the end of the corridor, unsurprised when its door opened to allow me in.

The room was illuminated by high points of light this time. The fireplace image was gone, the wall where it had been empty. A long wooden desk with a tall leather chair had been added since my last visit and James Carthage sat reading a news feed, swiping insistently with his right hand.

He looked up as I entered, seeming tired. His neatly trimmed hair was compressed on one side as if he had just been sleeping with his face on the desk.

“You saved her,” Carthage said.

“Hello,” I said. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Carthage.”

“I thought she was lost. I was sure Kallaver was going to murder her to send me a message.”

“So you did know what was going to happen the night I was providing security. You’re lucky the Tactical team came, otherwise your daughter would be dead.”

Carthage nodded. He continued to check the feeds flowing beneath his fingers. “It wasn’t supposed to get so out of hand. Nagel paid a heavy price for that. I’m going to have to repay him. Have you seen him yet?”

“Not yet. I came straight here with Kiren.”

“That was smart of you. She hasn’t hit the feeds yet. It will soon, and our stock price will rise to new heights. Now would be a good time to buy.”

“I don’t speculate,” I said.

“Why didn’t you use the handgun I gave you?” Carthage asked abruptly. He stared at me with his red-rimmed eyes.

“It was defective,” I said.

“Not when I gave it to you,” he claimed.

“I only know it didn’t work when I did use it. Fortunately, I wasn’t carrying it when your daughter was abducted. Thanks to my service pistol, I have at least one witness to help me learn who hired the gang to kidnap your daughter.”

“Kallaver’s people don’t talk,” Carthage said.

“We don’t know that,” I said. “To answer your question, I carried my service pistol because it’s what the Sheriff ordered me to do. It worked when I needed it.”

“That’s a good description for you, I think,” Carthage said. “You might be useful to me in the future, Deputy Walker.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. I didn’t need any more offers of gifts or special payroll.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep,” I said. “I’m tired.”

“I do mind,” Carthage said, raising a hand. “I can be a valuable friend, Gage. I can see you won’t take money from me, and that’s fine. But I do owe you. You’ll come to appreciate that. We’re linked, you and me.”

I touched my temple in a farewell salute. “I don’t need any favors. I’m sure your daughter would like to see you. I left her at her apartment with George.”

“George is here?” he asked, surprised.

“He was waiting in her apartment.”

Carthage nodded thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t have expected that. How did she act?”

“Like a couple reunited after a terrible experience.”

“Did she touch him?”

The question seemed strange. “Of course.”

“No, you misunderstand my question,” Carthage said. “Did he touch her first, or did she touch him?”

I clearly recalled George’s awkward arm around Kiren’s shoulders, just as I recalled her hand on the back of my neck.

Was Carthage trying to figure out if his daughter actually cared for George Joyce? Did he still question if the marriage was a ploy to steal his company, or was his daughter truly in love?

Was Carthage the kind of man who distrusted any kind of love?

“I really couldn’t say, Mr. Carthage.”

Carthage had a hungry look. He glanced back at his newsfeeds, swiping frantically.

“Goodbye, Deputy,” he said.

27

“You were ordered to report six hours ago, Deputy Walker.”

I knew it was impossible, but even Ellie sounded pissed, her tone almost clipped. “Sorry, Ellie. I was dead tired. I needed to sleep.”

“No apologies are necessary, Trainee Walker. Though your change in attitude will be noted.”

“Thanks. Please log me as in-service. I’ll report to the Sheriff as soon as I can.”

“By soon, do you mean immediately, Deputy Walker? I will update your transit status.”

“Yes. Sure.”

Instead of sending the lift up to the admin section, I selected five levels below me, where the holding cells were located. Ellie didn’t comment, leading me to believe she’d deduced my intention.

Everywhere I went in the department, moods varied from angry to downright pissed. Several offices were openly drinking at their desks, having just lost several friends in one operation. The news feeds were full of images of the law enforcement fleet under attack in the Chop. While public sentiment seemed to be on our side, it didn’t change the fact that the Department might have just suffered the worst loss of life in its history.

The counts were still coming in on wounded and lost. No one could remember a time the Department had suffered so many losses in one day. Many were cursing the Union for not supporting the mission, while others were starting to question the Sheriff for sending Tactical in at all. No one seemed to be connecting me with what had happened, which allowed me to leave the lift and walk directly into Holding without a second glance from anyone. There was still work to do on Taurus Station, and now fewer deputies to get it done.

The sergeant on duty at Holding gave me a tired glance. “You’re lucky they haven’t pulled you for inmate coverage. Every shift is down after the attack.”

I submitted the interview request and the sergeant barely looked at it. He waved me past, rubbing his temples.

Cherise sat on the bed in a solitary confinement cell, wearing an orange inmate’s suit, the sleeves rolled up to show her wiry forearms. She recognized me and gave a feral grin as I pulled up a chair to face her on the opposite side of the viewing wall.

“I hear Kallaver taught the cops of Taurus a lesson,” she said.

“And I left him with a hole in his stomach,” I said, exaggerating my shot in his shoulder. “He might have reached a med unit in time. Looked like he was bleeding out, though.”

“You’re bluffing. Clark would have found a way to tell me.”

I chuckled, making the noise sound lazy and bored. “Clark is definitely dead. I know he’s a decent actor from that little show in Ronny’s place, but you can’t fake getting your skull cracked open.”

Cherise stared at me. “You’re lying.”

I shook my head. “His head got smashed into the deck repeatedly.”

That didn’t necessarily mean he was dead, but she didn’t need to know that.

“I’m going to murder you, Deputy.”

“That would be unfortunate.” I glanced at the data screen in the middle of her cell’s viewing wall. “Looks like you’ve got a lot more charges than just abduction. You’re going to be busy for a little while.”

She continued to pull at her hair, tremors rocking her body. “Don’t act smart with me. Unless you show some balls and kill me now, we’ll see each other again. I’ll pay you back for Clark.”

“I didn’t realize you were a couple.”

“He was a good man.”

“Well, I’m sorry for your loss.”

I watched her, trying to figure out how to shift into the questions I wanted to ask. I might have come on too strong. I had nothing to offer her, and if she blamed me for Clark’s death, she wasn’t going to give me anything freely. I scanned the charges against her, reading a number of low-level crimes that would most likely be wrapped up in the larger offenses.

“Have you talked to anybody yet?” I asked.

“I’ve been sitting here since I got picked up at the apartment.”

“Did they feed you at least?”

“A water bulb.” She huffed.

I nodded, considering. “You hungry?”

“Are you a moron? Yes, I’m hungry.”

I went to the breakroom and returned with what was probably some officer’s lunch. Sliding it through the service opening in the viewing wall, I made a mental note to figure out whose it was and replace it.

Cherise’s face was splotchy, eyes bloodshot, but she didn’t hesitate to attack the food. She sat on the bed and tore into the sandwich with gusto.

I sipped a coffee as she emptied the plate. It was bad, but the bitterness kept me focused.

When she was finished, Cherise leaned back on the bed and looked at the ceiling. It took me a second to notice the tears in her eyes.

“Did he die fighting?” she asked finally.

“Yes.”

Her eyes widened. “Hand to hand or gunfight?”

“Hand to hand,” I said.

“You’re kidding me. He was always terrible at hand-to-hand. I told him. With who?”

I looked at my coffee.

“It wasn’t you, was it?”

“Nope.”

Cherise glared at the wall, brows knitted. “Probably Kallaver. He always hated Clark. But that doesn’t make any sense, not with the debt they owed each other. Kallaver’s a lot of things, but he’s good on his word. No. It was someone else.”

The hook seemed set. “Who hired you?” I asked.

James Carthage may have owned up to the crime, but there were things that didn’t add up for me. Someone else had to be involved.

“That’s what you want to know? You think I’m going to just tell you?”

I shrugged. “You can tell me. I can tell you what you want to know. Or you can wait and never know. I could also help with some of these lower level charges, probably get you out sooner. You want to get back to the CZ, right?”

Cherise sighed. “It’s not like it matters anyway. In fact, I think it’s funny. You want to know who hired us to grab Kiren Carthage? Kiren Carthage did. She put out the hit on herself.”

I stared at her. That made no sense. Kiren had been a prisoner in the station. She was fighting Clark —had even killed the man—and Kallaver hadn’t said anything in the command deck. Franca and Trix hadn’t said anything.

Had they been in on it with her? I wondered if Kiren had used some backchannel and kept her identity private. Would Kallaver take that kind of job without knowing who was paying? If so, how would Cherise know the truth? Of course I had to consider the woman was lying just to mess with me, so I decided to probe some more.

“Who coordinated the job?” I asked.

“All we had to do was pretend it was a crime of opportunity. It was Clark’s job. He brought me in because we do everything together.” She caught herself. “Did. I should have known this one was dirty. As soon as I saw you were with her, I knew this was going to be a mess.”

“Why?” I asked, more to myself than her.

“Stupid way to postpone a wedding, if you ask me. I would have just beat the groom’s ass and called it a day.”

That theory didn’t quite work for me. Kiren could have postponed the wedding anytime she wanted. No, the abduction had to be about something else.

Her father. She had wanted to see if James Carthage actually cared.

I shook my head. That was too simple.

But what did Keldon say? Revenge, sex, or money.

“So who was it?” Cherise said, shaking me out of my thoughts.

“What?”

“Who killed my Clark? That’s our deal.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I found him in an apartment below the Factory’s command deck with his head smashed in. It was obvious he’d lost a fight with someone.”

She stared at me, then opened her mouth to release a furious howl.

The sergeant came running from the check-in desk. “What the hell did you do, Walker?”

“Nothing, Sergeant. I can’t give her the info she wants. So she’s throwing a tantrum.”

The sergeant pressed his lips together and stared at me with open suspicion. “Are you listening to comms?”

“No.”

“Dispatch is yelling for you. You’re late to see the Sheriff.”

28

Sheriff Nagel stalked his office like a panther, yelling at someone on the other end of a comms link.

I entered the office just as the Sheriff said, “You tell that asshole I want every Union dreadnought in the system. The Governor is on my side and I’m going to get the President herself down here to push the button. I’m going to eradicate every gang in the Chop from my space. Do you understand me? You tell your general she can kiss my ass.”

Nagel didn’t wait for the person to answer. He closed the connection with a slammed fist on his desk and looked up to find me standing at parade rest. His vicious expression didn’t change.

“Walker.”

“Reporting as ordered, Sheriff.”

Nagel shook his head. “No, you didn’t. I called for you when you first arrived back on Station. Where have you been since then? You get a haircut?”

I swallowed. “I escorted Kiren Carthage home, then I came here.”

“And you still didn’t come see me like I told you. You went to interview that kidnapper. Did you learn anything at least?”

“She said Kiren Carthage hired Kallaver for the kidnapping.”

Nagel stared at me. A vein in his broad temple throbbed like a bug under his leathery skin. “And you believed her?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Well, let’s all go home then. Trainee Walker doesn’t know his head from a hole in the ground. What’s your educated guess?”

“That she’s telling the truth.”

Nagel chewed his lip. “Go on.”

“Seems simple enough,” I said. “She wanted to hurt her father. I think he caught wind of it because he gave me a faulty handgun as a gift so I couldn’t protect her. Carthage said she was a threat to his business. The marriage didn’t seem to matter much.” I shrugged.

“You think that’s all there is to it? Rich daughter wants to get daddy’s attention before she gets imprisoned in a marriage?”

I didn’t see George imprisoning anyone, but I agreed.

The Sheriff stood and crossed his arms, taking a deep breath. He seemed to be calming down. “I think you’ve gone past simple into stupid. That’s the most overcomplicated plan I’ve ever heard. You’re an idiot, Walker. But we lost nearly half of the Tactical Division today.” Nagel caught himself, overcome with emotion.

I watched the Sheriff, seeing how deeply he felt the loss of his deputies. Despite the yelling and belittlement, there was a heart there. There was a box of napkins on the edge of the Sheriff’s desk, and I stepped forward to offer one.

Nagel swatted the container away. “I didn’t tell you to move, Deputy. We lost better deputies than you can ever hope to be. I saw the way you walked in here, thinking I was going to congratulate you for a job well done. As far as I’m concerned, you’re to blame for not figuring this mess out sooner. You nearly got your trainer killed and led the department into a war zone. You’re obviously not ready for any kind of duty. I’m extending your probationary period. If I didn’t need people, you’d be out on your ass.”

I stood stiffly, processing the Sheriff’s words. I badly wished Keldon was standing next to me, ready to make a wisecrack that showed he wasn’t worried about risking his career. But that was easy for him; Keldon’s career was behind him. I had a future to worry about.

Or did I?

This was the moment where I could tell Nagel fuck off, that I’d done my best, that he didn’t have the whole story.

Instead, I watched him fight tears over his dead people.

Was this really where I wanted to be? Standing here, getting yelled at by sheriff after sheriff?

I realized I’d stopped listening to Nagel when he snapped at me. “Answer me, Deputy.”

I blinked slowly. “I didn’t hear what you said, Sheriff.”

Nagel’s eyeballs looked like they were going to explode from their sockets. “What are you going to do to prove to me that you deserve to be a deputy in this department?”

I considered the question. “I’m not here to prove anything to you, Sheriff. I’m here for the people out there.”

Not quite a screw you, but close enough.

Nagel gritted his teeth. The veins on his temples twitched. He closed his mouth, straightened, and then launched into another tirade. “Let me tell you something about bullshit, Trainee.”

Later, somebody told me I set the record for epic ass-chewings in Nagel’s office. The legend was helped by the fact that Nagel hadn’t closed his door, and his thunderous voice echoed out over the bullpen and into the lift. Some helpful soul transferred my ass-chewing to the Dispatch admin net, so the whole Department could experience the love along with me.

The Sheriff covered a whole history of epic mess-ups he had known throughout his career, some merely stupid, some unlucky, others immoral. He spent a few minutes berating me for holding the barest glimmer of intelligence, which would most likely trip me up throughout my short career, if I even managed to reach the end of my extended probationary period.

My ears grew numb. I waited for the Sheriff to grow hoarse and tired of beating his desk, even when everything on its surface ended up swept at my boots. Nagel’s arms were long enough that he could jab at my face from behind the desk and threaten my eyes and nose. His index finger flew at me like a missile, daring me to look away or break my parade rest.

“You’re going to take what worthless evidence you have about this case down to Investigations and leave it with them, and I don’t want to hear you ever say the word Carthage again, do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sheriff.”

“Then you’re going to report to Lieutenant Stacey Bird, the hardest, meanest training officer in this department. She’s failed more fools like you than I can count.”

“Yes, Sheriff.”

“And if you do graduate your field training and somehow find yourself an actual member of my department, sworn to protect and defend the good people of Taurus Station, I’m going to make sure you spend your first five years in the deepest hole we’ve got. I’m going to put you on lost and found, or animal control, or code enforcement. I’m going to send you out verifying party barge sanitation. I’m going to squeeze the last bit of self-respect out of your smartass body and hang it up on my wall until you beg me to do traffic control. Do you understand me, Trainee?”

“Yes, Sheriff.”

“Get the hell out of my office.”

I spun an about-face and marched out of the office. Out in the bullpen, people stared at me with slack mouths. Others grinned and a few golf clapped silently. An old sergeant saluted as he leaned back in his seat, boots on his desk.

In the lift, a corporal from records named Sanches glanced at me as the doors closed. “You all right, kid?” she asked.

I leaned against the back of the lift and wiped my forehead. “Was that bad?”

“That was the best ass-chewing I’ve ever heard. But I’ve only been with the department for twelve years.”

“Is my career over?”

Sanches shrugged. “Let me tell you something about Lieutenant Bird. She loves her paperwork. Whatever you do, don’t mess that up. As for the sheriff, the great thing about him is that he’ll bite off a piece of your ass in the morning and then drink beers with you at night. He doesn’t hold a grudge, unless you really give him a reason.” She looked me up and down. “So you’re the recruit who managed to infiltrate Kallaver’s Factory, huh?”

“Caused the big failure? Yeah.”

“Oh, it was bad, but it could have been worse. We saved a lot of people, too.”

I stared at her. “Really? During the battle I saw ships going down all over the place.”

Sanches nodded. “It was bad, but it could have been worse. Haven’t you been reading the situation briefings?”

“I’ve been too busy.”

She tapped the files in her hands. “Always read the daily briefings. Your ass wouldn’t sting so much right now if you’d done that. If you aren’t breaking shit and earning complaints, you aren’t doing your job. That’s what cops do.”

I swallowed, nodding, and focused on the level indicator as we dropped. I didn’t know what to feel now, except that I wanted to see Keldon.

The lift slowed and Corporal Sanches got off at her level. She smiled wryly from the doorway. “I liked your answer in there, Walker. Especially saying that with the Hall of Heroes right behind you? Got me right in the fee-fees. I do it for the people, Sheriff!”

I watched Sanches fight laughter as the doors closed.

29

Keldon survived his wounds, though he did lose all of his limbs. This didn’t seem to bother him much since the department’s hazard insurance got him augmented replacements, all top of the line.

In the days that followed, I learned about Lieutenant Stacey Bird.

Before making detective, she had come up as a street deputy, later working cases in organized crime, Port Authority, and greater event planning. After that she moved into Internal Affairs, where she routed a weapons ring, identified an accountant embezzling millions, and stomped out favoritism in the spouse’s volunteer association. No one was safe from her watchful eye. As an IA, she was feared and avoided. On the rare occasion she entered the canteen for coffee, the room went quiet.

She was a wiry woman who kept her brown hair bobbed short and had never bothered to change the blade nose in the middle of her face, gray eyes blazing on either side.

As Sanches had warned me, Bird hardly ever left her office. This was good and bad. I was free during most of my shift—free to screw up as much as possible—before reporting to her at the end of the day.

As I stood at parade rest in front of her desk, she reviewed my patrol recordings and assessed my reports. She poured over my journals and asked detailed questions about why I had taken certain actions, without offering any feedback beyond a raised eyebrow or slight, “Hmm, interesting.” She never acknowledged the fact that I didn’t have a training officer nearby to verify a decision.

“You’re past that point,” Bird liked to say, acid dripping from her words like I was too stupid to know better.

I wasn’t sure when I realized that Lieutenant Bird was lonely, but it was sometime near our third week, when she asked me to clearly describe the interior of a casino, down to the expressions on the faces of dealers, security, and wait staff. She rewound my data collection as I talked, verifying my descriptions.

“You weren’t paying attention,” she said. “This dealer is obviously on the take.”

I frowned at the screen, trying to determine how the bored face of the dealer indicated malfeasance.

“I’ll be honest, Lieutenant. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She raised a brow at me. “Does that mean you lie the rest of the time?”

“No, Lieutenant.”

“Then why are you being honest now?”

I pressed my lips together, not sure how to survive this line of inquiry.

“Look at his posture,” she said, pointing. “He’s beaten down. He’s tired. Look at how he shuffles. That’s the only time he pays attention. He’s counting cards.”

“Why would anyone bother to do that?”

The casinos had centuries of experience in developing the best security in the known systems. There was no doubt each card was AI-enabled with nano tracking. The casino could foresee every outcome of every game, matched against the bio-signatures of everyone passing through their doors.

I knew all this because Bird had explained it during our many meetings, when she would get distracted from my recordings to explain the deep background on whatever aspect of Taurus Station we were reviewing. She had explained the street engineering requirements of the party barges, the necessity of inbound port cycling for freight management, and how the Station Council elected leaders. To Bird, Taurus was a single organism comprised of parties and power that ate lives and raw material and spat out cash.

At one point I had asked, “The Sheriff said you were a training officer. Have you ever actually trained anyone?”

She’d replied in a tone that suggested I might come to regret opening my mouth. “Of course. Why would you ask that? Are you questioning my authority?”

For Bird, the term “authority” didn’t refer to power. She meant competence.

Bird had no sense of time, either, and the lectures often stretched long past what should have been the end of my shift. I learned to plan my paperwork time before my follow-up meetings with her.

There was nothing worse than a hard shift involving a chase or fight, and then spending four hours with Bird, followed by report writing and another check-in with the watch sergeant before I could submit anything to records. My longest ten-hour shift had stretched to sixteen. I’d been tempted to take a sick day just to sleep.

Despite the interminable meetings, which sometimes felt more like personal therapy for Bird than training, I found myself learning tactics and techniques from her that Keldon had never taught me. Keldon operated on relationships, while Bird understood the macro workings of Taurus. Bird helped me grasp how activity at the ports might encourage organized crime, while Keldon’s training showed me how to approach individual workers in the docks to find out where the crime was truly happening.

Whenever I had a slow patrol day, Bird liked to pull out my recordings from the Factory and play them on a screen that filled one wall of her office. By now, I was too familiar with the different sections of the recording, from the cargo bay to the comms station and the fest hall.

Bird enjoyed pausing on the moment I’d met Haley.

“See how she’s sizing you up? Why didn’t she kill you when you walked in the door?”

“Because she’s a nice person.”

“You didn’t know that then. You completely lost your mind in terms of officer safety. You didn’t clear the room before entry. You just went inside, hoping the universe was going to hand you what you needed. Somehow it did. You should be dead right now.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“What else would you say about it?”

I stretched my neck. “I was in a desperate situation. My partner was wounded. I was surrounded by criminals and didn’t have a way off the station. Getting a message back to Tactical was my priority and the comms center seemed like the best place to do that.”

“I don’t have a problem with your plan, per se. You also didn’t take offensive action against her as soon as she noticed you.”

“Do you see how big she is?”

“You’re a trained deputy. Size shouldn’t matter.”

I bit down a remark about how long it had been since Bird was on the street, when I noticed something in the recording that hadn’t jumped out at me before. Haley’s display had the passcode for an encryption key on its face.

“Hey.” I motioned for the lieutenant to pause the recording. “Did you see that? There’s a channel code on her display.”

“It’s a comms center.”

“Did Investigations ever run it down?”

“Hold on.” Bird sorted through her data files, bony fingers flicking across her desk.

“There’s nothing here.”

“Can we run it?” I asked.

Bird turned down the edges of her mouth. “Protocol would be to submit the request through Technical Support.”

“But you have the authority to do it.”

“I do. As Internal Affairs, I’m entrusted with a broad range of administrative authority.”

I cursed inwardly. I shouldn’t have reminded her about her beloved bureaucracy. She was right, though. Running the request wasn’t illegal, but if we found something, the evidence would be more useful if we followed the proper channels.

“We should submit the request,” I said.

“I just did. Let’s see if they honor my priority status.”

I raised my eyebrows. Bird actually looked excited for once.

“There we go.” She sounded pleased with herself. Effective bureaucracy always made her happy. “Sending the investigative query.”

Bird transferred her desk display to the wall we had been watching. A black panel appeared with the passcode and channel at its top. A series of dotted lines ran down the panel as the Investigative AI checked the network address, followed by addresses and pages of encrypted data.

“Stop,” Bird commanded the AI. “Give me an origination address. Assess and provide.”

The AI opened a new panel to display a map, and a third to provide new text. Haley stood frozen on the wall recording, surrounded by floating black rectangles.

“Carthage Industries,” Bird read, with a network link back to their headquarters. Didn’t you visit James Carthage there?”

“Yes, I did,” I said.

“Did you know James Carthage was running for Station Council?”

“Not until you told me.”

Bird laughed. “That’s good. You have a knack for hiding your ignorance behind a smart remark. You should know what’s happening with the government. They pay your salary. I already explained that.”

“I don’t understand why you’re changing the subject.”

Bird raised an eyebrow, which she often did when I wasn’t grasping the point of one of her questions.

I wasn’t interested in talking about state government. I wasn’t surprised that Haley had been monitoring a feed to the Carthage headquarters. On the surface, it made sense that Haley would be monitoring transmissions back to Carthage if Kiren had hired Kallaver. But Kiren was in the Factory at that point. This suggested there was ongoing communication even while Kiren was under Clark’s control.

Maybe James Carthage had been trying to get something out of Kallaver after all?

“I see your brain working,” Bird said.

“Why didn’t investigations catch this? The review system should have picked it up as easily as we did.”

“Any number of reasons. If this is your first lesson in checking anything you want done, I don’t know if I can help you.”

Bird found a physical chip in her drawer and plugged it into a slot on her desk. When a beep sounded, she pushed back from her desk and stood. Everything we had been studying on the display blinked out when she removed the chip. She walked around her desk for the door.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Down to TechDiv. I want to hear from Stam if anybody asked him to assess this recording.”

In the lift, I said, “There are a thousand reasons the data didn’t get checked. I’m the one who submitted the files to Investigations. They might have assigned the lowest priority. Keldon wasn’t here to do it, and you weren’t my training officer yet.”

“That’s possible,” Bird agreed, but said nothing else.

As we dropped levels, I didn’t like the sinking feeling in my stomach. The list of people who might try to suppress this kidnapping case was very short. As far as I knew, Sheriff Nagel was the only person who knew I’d returned from the Factory with a full tour of their facility, command deck, fighting capability, and a hoard of stolen goods. I had to admit that I would have expected something more to come of the data, but I hadn’t been surprised when no one from Investigations followed up. I was a trainee. This was above my pay grade.

Having Bird on the case, however, was a different matter.

“You’ve been reviewing the data the whole time,” I said abruptly.

She raised a thin eyebrow. “I had to start with your daily logs to see if you were an idiot.”

When she didn’t say more, I asked, “What else have you found?”

“At least six cases I’ve been working over the last five years tie back to the stolen goods you helpfully recorded on your walk through their cargo holds. Those birds alone are worth a small asteroid. You got some of the best imagery I’ve seen of Kallaver’s command section, and there were easily twenty faces in that fest hall that came back with warrants. I’m not a person to give compliments, Deputy Walker, but your mission was a success on the intelligence gathering alone, not to mention the fact that you saved the Carthage woman. Even if the whole thing was a scam to anger her father, the data you gained is priceless. I want someone to kidnap her again.”

I had a hard time trusting the praise. It was the first compliment she’d offered since I started working for her.

“The Sheriff wasn’t too pleased with me,” I said.

Lieutenant Bird’s expression clouded. “No, he wasn’t.”

We entered TechDiv and Bird walked past the admin desk without acknowledging the clerk.

Stam was hunched at his workbench, performing some delicate work on a disc-shaped object. He set down his tool and sealed the disc, straightening as Bird approached. When he spotted her, his round eyes went even wider in his goggles and his face split in a pleased smile.

“Stacey,” he said. “How nice of you to come see me.”

“Calm down, Stam,” she said, all business. “I need some information on a data dump that Walker here left with Investigations.”

Stam glanced around them to the door into his work area. “We should have some privacy then. Deputy Walker, will you close the door on your way out?”

“Close the door, but you’re staying here,” Bird ordered. “Didn’t you hear what I said, Stam? It’s his data.”

Stam pushed his goggles up his nose. “What’s his clearance?”

“I’m reading him in.”

The lead technician gave an irritated sigh and walked over to a console with random bits of equipment stacked on top of it. He fished its control board from under a manual.

“What are you looking for?” Stam asked.

Bird gave him the data sequence. He ran the query, then frowned. “One more time?”

When he ran the query again, Stam’s face screwed up like a fist. He wasn’t getting what he wanted from the machine, and that appeared to piss him off. He set his control board on a cleared bit of space on his workbench, then sat down, pulled his display closer to his face, and ran his fingers furiously over the board. I lost count of the number of commands Stam entered; the round man’s expression grew darker the longer he tried.

“There’s nothing here,” he said finally. “I can’t even find the location locater that I know should verify Walker was on Kallaver’s Factory. I’ve got Keldon’s shuttle, and Keldon up until he gets med extraction, but our Deputy Walker here doesn’t exist.”

Bird handed over the chip where she’d saved the mission data. “Use this,” she said.

“I can’t verify evidence off some random data chip. The record should be in the archives. Whatever’s on here doesn’t matter in court.”

“I can verify its authenticity,” Bird said. “Copy it and give the chip back to me.”

“Give me your security token.”

She did, which seemed to surprise him.

“All right, then,” Stam said. “I guess you’re serious.”

He fed the chip into his console and made the transfer. He handed the chip back, then opened the file. Data rolled across the screen, populating all the records he had been looking for, from the time Keldon and I had left the station for the Chop until I was picked up by the rescue hauler.

“Part of the problem is that he was using civilian recording equipment,” Stam said. “But I think that just made it easier to hide. Somebody tried to suppress this data.” He stared at his console like it was a snake about to bite him.

“That seems accurate,” Bird said.

“There are only two people with the admin access to erase evidence.” Stam gave Bird a desperate look, his eyes swimming in his goggles. “I’m one.”

“And the Sheriff is the other,” Bird said. “I know.”

“What are we supposed to make of that?” Stam asked.

“You don’t make anything of it,” Bird told him. “You do what you’re asked to do. And before you go thinking the Sheriff is dirty, remember that I’ve worked with Nagel for twenty-two years. He’s a politician—which is necessary to have survived so long on a crooked place like Taurus—but he serves justice. He’s a good man. He doesn’t need to explain himself to any of us.”

Based on Bird’s role as IA, I didn’t know what to make of the speech. She definitely didn’t sound impartial. I could only nod.

Stam opened his mouth then thought better of it. Instead, he attacked his control board again, running a series of commands that returned long lists of log entries.

“It’s completely gone,” he said eventually. “I know this was logged because I remember Walker bringing it down in that banged up civilian helmet. But everything is gone.”

“Reenter the record from my chip,” Bird said. “Show me as the logging officer.”

“You want your name on this?” Stam asked.

“Do what I told you.”

“Done.”

Lieutenant Bird nodded, then turned to me. “Have you heard anything from Kiren Carthage since you dropped her at home?”

“She sent me a wedding invitation.”

“Oh, really. How nice of her.”

“They delayed it,” I said. “It’s tomorrow. I was thinking of going.”

“Stop thinking and start planning,” Bird said. “You’re going.”

30

A package from TechDiv was waiting for me at the check-in desk when I arrived back at the Department. In the locker room, I unpacked the case to find a suit of covert armor, lined with kinetic response panels, embedded sensors, and an enhanced communications link to Ellie. A hand-written note from Bird instructed me to wear the suit under the formal clothes in my locker.

“I don’t have any formals in my locker,” I muttered.

Sure enough, a tailored gray suit hung next to my battered duty uniform, complete with tie and dress shoes. Another officer whistled when I stood in front of the locker room mirror and inspected my new duds.

“You going to a funeral?” the officer asked.

“Wedding,” I said.

“Same thing, then.” He guffawed at his own joke.

Adjusting the jacket, I snorted. The cut allowed for the holster hanging snugly under my left armpit, then I practiced drawing several times until I finally didn’t catch the butt on my jacket.

I clipped my badge to my belt as Bird sent another query.

“What are you doing, Walker? We were supposed to leave ten minutes ago.” I wasn’t used to the excitement in her voice.

“I’m ready,” I said.

“Meet me at the motor pool.”

When we met at the line of duty cruisers, I expected her to make me take pilot. Instead, the lieutenant took control of our assigned vehicle and chided me when I took too long to get strapped in.

“I want time at the mixer,” she said. “We’re already pushing arriving too late.”

“You sound excited,” I said.

Bird was wearing a brilliant blue suit with black piping, and her short hair had been styled flat against the sides of her head like brown wings. She looked more like a company’s executive officer than a detective.

“I don’t get out often,” Bird said. “Also, we’re going to bust some criminals, which always gets me excited.”

She powered up the cruiser but didn’t pull out of our spot. She activated the main display and darkened the windows, hiding the two of us from outside eyes.

“I got ahold of the guest list,” she said, pulling up a grid on the display. Faces appeared in the squares. I recognized a few of them immediately, and was surprised to see Franca, Trix, Haley, Sheriff Nagel, and then Kallaver.

“That’s not a group I ever expected to see together,” I said.

Bird gave a feral grin. “It’s a who’s who of the local criminal syndicates.”

“And the Sheriff is going?”

“He’s invited. I think that’s a joke. He won’t be there.”

“Isn’t it a little brash to make a list of all the people who are going to be at the event when these aren’t people that Carthage would normally associate with?”

“They didn’t publish this list,” Bird said. “I got it from the hotel’s security division.”

I didn’t ask how she managed that. Instead, I chose to examine the faces on the list, recognizing several from my run through the Factory.

“So what’s the mission?” I asked.

“From your recording, I have everything I need to bring Kallaver in. We’re taking him down.”

“We? You mean just us? Shouldn’t we bring in Tactical?”

Bird shook her head. “Tactical would blow a hole in the hotel. We’re going to do this so quietly no one will notice we’re there.”

“Kiren is going to notice me,” I said.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Walker. You were her flunky and that’s all. You played right into her hostile takeover plan.”

“You’ve decided that’s what this is all about?”

“Carthage stock tanked after word of the abduction got out. Somebody bought it up. I’m still tracking that down. I think it was Kiren.”

I remembered James Carthage saying his stock was going back up. He hadn’t mentioned new owners.

I also couldn’t help recalling Keldon’s warning about protecting my ass.

Bird set the cruiser in motion. There was no stopping events now. And maybe Bird had more skills than I gave her credit for. What if getting Kallaver alone might just work? I shifted in my new armor, still getting used to the places where it was stiff under my suit.

“You have an arrest warrant?” I asked.

Bird was sifting through data on the display as the cruiser left the motor pool. “Of course, I do. Now, here’s what we’re going to do.”

The cruiser dropped and righted itself, then launched into the transit corridor. The ceremony was in a private hotel on the other side of Taurus. A corner of the display tracked our progress.

“Kallaver is going to be there with his own crew,” Bird said. “He usually travels with at least five of his trusted people.” She highlighted five grim-looking faces on the grid. I didn’t see Clark among them, so maybe he was dead after all.

“They’ll be armed. So if we need to catch any of them for later questioning, debilitating force is authorized. Understood?”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“Good. So Kallaver is going to recognize me. We’ve both been in the game too long for him not to. After the ceremony, when they move into the celebration and everyone splits up into their own parties, we’re going to isolate Kallaver from his crew and take him into custody.”

I identified at least ten missing steps in her plan. Without seeing the location, I had no way of knowing if she was spouting fantasy or if we might have a chance of separating the crime boss from his crew. Bird was talking quickly and I couldn’t get a word in to ask questions.

“You’ve got the armor under your suit.”

“I do,” I said.

She looked me over. “You’re not invincible, but damn near.”

“My head doesn’t seem to have any armor,” I said.

“So don’t get shot in the face.”

I nodded. “Do we have anything more than our service weapons?” I sincerely hoped she was going to tell me we had an arsenal in the cruiser’s storage lockers.

“You don’t need anything more,” she snapped. “This is a grab operation, not one of Tactical’s clumsy frontal assaults. Aren’t you listening?”

I nodded, pressing my lips closed.

Bird spent the rest of our trip describing the layout of the hotel, other people on the guest list, and how our next steps would be seizing Kallaver’s transport through the Port Authority.

“We’re going to shut down one of the worst gangs in the system with a single surgical strike,” she declared. “It’s going to be glorious, Walker. Just wait. I’m going to make you famous.”

If anyone else had said those words, I would have jumped out of the cruiser. From Bird, though, with her precision and intense focus, the promise seemed credible. There was a reason everyone in the Department feared her. She never made threats; she was all execution. Still, there was a calculating look in her eyes that made me wary.

Also, what if I didn’t want to be famous? Keldon had made that sound like a bad thing.

“Have you tried your suit’s passive HUD yet?” she asked, then grimaced when I shook my head. “Well hurry up and get it figured out. We’re almost there.”

“How?” I asked.

“Check the inside pocket.”

I found a small case containing a tactical lens, something I’d heard about in training but never got to use.

Bird reached over to tap a point close to my collar bone. I caught a glimmer in the corner of my eye, and then the cruiser’s cab filled with a subtle collection of indicators and tracking icons, similar to what I typically saw in my duty helmet but only fully visible when I focused on them. I experimented with moving my gaze over parts of the cruiser’s control system, surprised by the addition of contextual menus and status icons. The suit had connected to the cruiser’s status AI without me realizing it, and now it offered up anything I wanted to know about the vehicle.

“Whoa,” I said. “I’m keeping this.”

“You do as you’re told today, and I’ll sign the overlook forms.”

Bird was definitely acting against character. Based on everything I knew about her, information she had proved true throughout my training, there was no way she would let me keep specialized equipment that hadn’t been properly assigned. However, she was a lieutenant, which I figured gave her quartermaster authority.

I stopped myself, remembering Keldon’s advice.

Something weird was going on here, and I needed to pay attention if I was going to get out alive. Fancy armor wasn’t going to protect me from Kallaver and his men, not to mention every other criminal attending the wedding.

Armor also wouldn’t protect me from Kiren if she got frisky again. I had to admit I’d been thinking about that kiss way too much since I’d seen her last.

Settling uncomfortably in my seat, I reached across my chest to touch the butt of my pistol, wishing I could check in with Keldon. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was getting in over my head here and no one was going to pull me out.

“I’ve been hunting Kallaver for years, Walker,” Bird said, slapping the control panel with barely suppressed excitement. “Years! Do you know what it’s like to spend half your career chasing someone who keeps slipping away on the letter of the law? It’s frustrating. It eats at you. It makes you wonder why you do this job at all. Well, today I’m going to pin that beetle to the wall.”

She corrected herself. “We’re going to stake his ass to the wall. You and me, Walker. This is going to be glorious.”

Oh shit.

31

Mounting the broad marble steps of the Hotel Chance Wins, I wondered if there was a ten code for “My partner is insane?”

A short line of people waited at the top of the staircase, where black-suited hotel security checked them through a scanning system. I noted the checkpoint and glanced at Bird, expecting her to direct us to a different entry point. She wasn’t looking at me, focused instead on walking right up the center of the stairs. Her face was full of excitement, and her eyes were on fire.

“Hurry up, Walker,” she called back. “We’re deputies on patrol. They can’t deny us entry to the casino. If they try, I’ll give them a lesson in station law.”

She was right, though. At the checkpoint, Bird showed her credentials and the guards waved us through. She looked disappointed that they didn’t want to test her but continued into the hotel lobby.

Groups of people filled the corridor as we progressed, following the signs, until the crowd coalesced into a line feeding through the wide entrance to a banquet hall. Low music filtered from the doorway.

I recognized Harvey Joyce standing in a group, sipping from a champagne flute, and then other faces leapt out at me. Several familiar bandits from the Factory’s festival hall were also in attendance. I had half-expected Bird’s intel to be wrong, but there they were, and some were actually dressed for the occasion. I was surprised to see Dierdre Deathmonger and Drina Silver from Rolo Hab. Drina gave me a nod in recognition. She smiled with what might have been an invitation.

I activated the suit’s advanced comms, expecting Ellie’s voice. Instead, the peripheral HUD offered me hundreds of nearby comms networks. Several I knew were encrypted showed as read-ready. I didn’t take the offer, figuring the info wasn’t much good without a warrant. I still spent a few seconds considering the possibilities.

“Ellie,” I said. “You got me and Lieutenant Bird in service at the Chance Wins?”

“Logged, Trainee Walker. Patrol check?”

“Uh, yeah.” I wasn’t sure what I should use as a purpose if Bird hadn’t already logged our mission. Patrol check worked for just about everything.

“You’ve got several Factory ID matches in your vicinity. Proceed with caution.”

“I know,” I said. “Do you have Kallaver?”

“Negative, Trainee Walker.”

“Let me know as soon as you do.”

I glanced at Bird. Rather than paying attention to my report, she was searching for a fast way through the line. While I hung back a little, doing my best to size up the crowd, the lieutenant walked directly to the front of the line and pushed her way ahead of a rich-looking woman in a purple dress. Before I could follow, Bird was on the other side of the door and had disappeared from sight.

“Ellie, keep a tracking lock on Lieutenant Bird. Let me know if she leaves the banquet hall.”

“Affirmative.”

I tapped my comms node. “Lieutenant Bird, you want me to go around the hall? I’m still outside in line.”

“Stay in line and get inside,” she replied. “We both need to get good scans of everyone here. Hurry up.”

I wasn’t far from the door. I’d be inside the hall in just a few minutes without the need to push anyone out of the way.

Turning back to survey the room, I found Dierdre the Deathmonger walking up beside her mechanic. Both were dressed in slim dinner dresses that were an extreme change from the outfits they’d been wearing when we met. The effect was startling. Drina’s spiky silver hair was slicked back, her augmented arm giving off a dull shine. Dierdre’s dress showcased long legs.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Keldon’s recruit,” Dierdre said. “I’m glad you’re still alive.”

“Doing my best,” I said.

Dierdre cocked an eyebrow. “I truly meant that. We heard the stories out of the Factory. You must look like swiss cheese under that suit.”

For a second, I thought Dierdre had realized I was wearing armor, until she flicked my jacket lapel. She thumbed the material.

“Come work for me and we’ll get you better clothes,” she said.

“One job is enough for now.”

“Well, if you ever get tired of low pay and thankless people, come see us. Drina likes having you around.”

The technician rolled her eyes.

“I’m not tired of it yet,” I said.

Dierdre smiled. “Give it time. Taurus has a way of grinding people up. Why do you think we prefer to visit?”

She might have been referring to Keldon. Sure, he was burned out, but he didn’t let it affect his work. All I had to do was think back to our many end of shift journaling and him sharing an endless supply of stories. If anything, Keldon had a dark humor about everything that recognized the humanity in any situation. He liked to say, “When you’re always seeing people on their worst day, it helps if you can find something to laugh about.” It was something I’d observed in most of the veterans.

We reached the entry into the banquet hall, where attendants handed us silver pendants with the ceremony info embedded inside.

Drina swung her pendant in front of my face and said, “You’re getting even more sleepy. Soon you’ll be asleep with your face buried in cake.”

I raised my eyebrows. “I can only hope. So you’ve got a sense of humor after all?”

“I don’t get out much. I can actually be fun when I don’t have a hundred broken down ships to worry about.”

The banquet hall was lined with rows of seats, with small bars and food tables along the outer edges of the room. Eager attendants in white shirts and black pants stood by each serving area. I spotted Bird near the front of the room where the ceremony stage was surrounded by huge multi-colored bouquets.

According to the pendant, the ceremony would begin in thirty minutes. That should be plenty of time to find Kallaver if he was going to be on time. Drina surprised me by putting her hand on my shoulder for balance as she stood on her tiptoes to look around, mocking my searching expression.

“Looks like your partner ditched you,” she said.

“She’s not the only person I’m looking for.”

The mechanic cocked an eyebrow. “If you’re hunting for the bride, that’s bad luck. I wouldn’t blame you though. She’s a looker.”

Yeah. I kept my face neutral.

“I might be able to share you with another woman,” Drina teased. “But I’ll make her pay.”

“Have you been drinking?” I asked, teasing her back. “We’ve barely met and you’re getting all possessive.”

“She’s like that,” Dierdre warned. “Watch out.”

Drina pulled her hand away and crossed her arms. She tapped her metal forearm with a finger. “I’m allowed to have a good time once a year or so. The deputy here is safe.”

“Safe,” Dierdre laughed. “Ask Keldon about safe.”

I straightened my suit. At first, I thought the armor was making me sweat, but it was probably the need to keep being witty.

“I better get after my partner,” I said. “She’s going to disappear on me.”

That wasn’t a joke. Bird didn’t seem concerned with keeping me updated on her actions. Was she really so excited to catch Kallaver that she was going to ignore all the procedures she loved so much? I guessed chasing someone for twenty years would do that to you.

Dierdre walked up beside us, surveilling the room. “I think you have a woman problem, Deputy Walker.” She glanced at Drina. “Besides, he isn’t looking for Kiren Carthage. A little bird just told me Kallaver finally showed up. With the number of his people in here I assume the sheriff will be blowing this hotel off the station within the hour.”

“We’d better hurry up and get our free drinks then,” Drina said.

“Are you calling me a little bird, Ms. Dierdre?” a man asked behind her.

Drina and Dierdre turned to greet a small man in a bowler cap with a decorative cane in one hand. I assumed it was a weapon, since he walked with a swagger and not a limp.

“Fratley Oxonos,” Drina said. She glanced at Dierdre. “Apparently they let anybody on the guest list.”

“Now that’s not nice. You know James Carthage hasn’t much use for Renegades. We’ve got a moral code. Unlike his little gang of criminals.”

“I think you’re mistaking credit acquisition for a moral code,” Drina said.

Fratley gave her a feral smile. “I’d be happy to discuss it with you sometime over drinks.”

“I’m sure I’ll be busy,” the mechanic said, tapping her alloy arm.

The man’s gaze moved to me. “You’ve got cop face. Are you a cop, or just got a pole up your ass?”

“Fratley,” Dierdre scolded. “That’s no way to talk to our friend. You never know when you might need a deputy on your side. They’ve got plenty of uses.”

Drina nearly choked on her drink as she laughed.

I caught sight of Bird on the far side of the hall, glancing behind her before she ducked through a service door. Apparently, she had just learned the same info about Kallaver.

Damn it.

“Next time,” I said quickly. “I need to go.”

“Stay safe,” Drina said.

Dierdre laughed. “You can’t run, she knows where you live, Deputy.”

Fratley opened his mouth to add what would probably be a smart-ass remark. I ignored him and moved into the banquet hall.

“Lieutenant Bird,” I asked over the comms. “Have you got an update?”

“Hurry up, Walker,” her voice barked in my ear. “I’ve got Kallaver’s location.”

I slipped around several groups of people, cutting across three rows of chairs in the middle of the hall. In another minute I reached the door where the lieutenant had disappeared. I pulled the door open to find a corridor lined with catering trays, lounging employees, and no Bird.

32

Dodging catering trays and carts full of dirty dishes, I made a right turn that opened on the kitchen. A cook threw me an irritated scowl but pointed when I asked the way out.

The door on the far side opened into a carpeted hotel hallway. A few people who looked like they were headed for the wedding meandered toward me, already drunk.

There was no sign of Bird. I pulled up the map using my peripheral HUD, reaching out to Ellie.

“Have you got Lieutenant Bird? I’ve lost visual.”

“She’s approximately twenty meters from your location around a corner. Adding her to your display.”

“Thank you.” I should have just done this sooner. Drina had me distracted.

“She appears to have entered a guest room,” Ellie said.

That complicated things. I picked up a jog.

“Bird,” I called on the comms net. “What are you doing?”

“Hurry up, Walker,” she answered immediately. “I’m closing on his location.”

“I’m almost there.”

Around the corner, the hallway was lined by guest rooms. A few service trays sat along the walls and a cleaning drone was ambling down the middle of the carpet, chirping as it vacuumed.

Reaching the door where Bird had entered, I listened for a second and heard muffled voices, nothing distinct. I drew my pistol and used the law enforcement emergency override on the lock. The door swung inward on a suite filled with people in poorly fitting formal attire. Faces turned to look at me.

Factory faces.

“Ellie,” I said in a low voice. “I need back up. Now.”

Kallaver stood in the middle of the group with his arms crossed over his pot belly. Lieutenant Bird sat in a straight-backed chair in front of him, hands gripping the armrests. Two heavies stood on either side of her with their hands on her shoulders like they had just forced her to sit. One of them was Red, the big guy I had already met in the Fest Hall. From his excited expression, I could tell he remembered me.

“What’s that?” Kallaver asked. “I thought I heard you say something.”

“Step away from the chair,” I told the two holding Bird. “Let go of her.”

The crime boss smiled at me. “Nobody move.”

None of them looked like they planned to, anyway. Most of the men were gathered near Bird in the chair. I glanced to my right and left, finding three more on either side of me.

“It figures the trainee wouldn’t be far behind,” Kallaver said. Snickers followed the insult. “I’m surprised to see you so soon, Deputy Walker. That’s right. I know your name. I learned all about you. I don’t like it when people shoot me. You like what I did to your attack team? What did Nagel have to say? I would have liked to have seen the look on his face.”

I looked from Kallaver to Bird. She hadn’t acknowledged me yet. Her entire focus on was on Kallaver. Her holster was empty.

“You’re on the station,” Bird said. “You haven’t been on Taurus in fourteen years.”

Kallaver gave her a questioning look, then nodded as he remembered something. “That’s how long it’s been since I strung up your partner Drummond, isn’t it? I’d forgotten. That’s how much of a shit I give about you.”

Bird launched out of the chair, hands spread to choke Kallaver. The heavies struggled a surprising bit to get her back down. Two more stepped in to help.

“Stop,” I shouted. I couldn’t choose a good target. They all kept moving, and Bird moved with them, making it impossible to get a clear shot.

They ignored me and I couldn’t fire without risk of hitting Bird. She fought until Red hit her across the face. When that didn’t stop her, the big man pulled his fist back and struck again, snapping her head against the back of the tall seat.

I aimed at that one.

“Watch yourself, Gage Boy,” Kallaver said. “There are more of us than you in here. You keep your head and you might get out of here alive. I’m not going to kill her—yet.”

So Kallaver had killed Bird’s partner. Her behavior started making sense. Still, what did Keldon say about plans that only lived in our heads?

They get you killed. Communication saves lives, rookie.

I turned the pistol on Kallaver. “Maybe the answer is that I take you out,” I said.

“You could do that. But then she’d still die. And if I don’t come back, three EMPs hit Taurus. You remember them, right?”

“You’re bluffing. You used it.”

“I’ve got three of them. I think I told you that. But no, I didn’t set one off back at the Factory. I didn’t have to, not when everyone else showed up to the party. As far as we’re concerned today, if I don’t come back, the combined pulse will shut down all power to the station, killing everyone. “

There were probably fifteen of Kallaver’s people in the room. Several were staring hungrily at Bird. There was no way I could kill or disable enough of them to grab her and get out of the room.

“Hey there, Gage Boy,” Kallaver said. “I see your wheels turning over there. Don’t do anything stupid and you might live through this.”

“Tell your boy to get away from her.”

“Hit her again,” Kallaver said.

A maniacal grin split Red’s beard as he pulled his arm back then jabbed Bird in the side of the head. His fist made a popping sound against her skull and her eyes rolled back this time. The room broke into hoots of laughter.

Kallaver raised his drink to Bird’s drooping head. “You know, Gage Boy, I like it here. I might stay for a while.” Laughter surrounded him.

There was a clear path behind me out the door. I could get to cover and send another call for help, this one with better information.

I couldn’t leave Bird.

And if we both died? What good did that do?

“A new deputy,” Kallaver mused. “What an exciting time in your life. Where are you from, Gage Walker?”

Kallaver wanted to talk. That was good. If I could keep him talking, he might stop hurting Bird long enough for backup to arrive or for me to figure out a plan.

“Asteroid miner. I didn’t grow up anywhere.”

“Damn, that’s rough. I’m surprised you got out. Most don’t. Was that a Carthage rig you worked for?”

He must have known or he wouldn’t have asked.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to figure out his angle.

“Screw James Carthage. Am I right? His daughter too. When she hired me to kidnap her, I thought it was a joke. But it wasn’t, and both of them paid me for the same job. Idiots.” Kallaver laughed, then raised his hands, encouraging the others. “Screw the Carthages and Joyces and their little plans. They think they own this system. Well, I run the Chop.” He motioned toward the others in the room. “We run the Chop. Every one of my captains here is a killer ready to protect what’s ours. What Nagel doesn’t seem to understand is that without me, Taurus Station would wither and die. I’m the soil that feeds your pretty plant. I make the business happen when the government or the law gets in the way.”

Kallaver pointed a thumb at his sternum. “You get to know me, Deputy, and you might survive your time here on Taurus.”

I glanced from Kallaver to Bird again. She was still out.

“You seem to forget I already met you,” I said. “So far you’re all a bunch of assholes.”

The room went quiet. I turned my gaze back to Kallaver, finding him staring at me hard. His right eye twitched.

He twisted his mouth and laughed. Then he laughed louder, and the others copied him, creating a cacophony of noise that gave me a brief opening to talk to Ellie.

“Ellie,” I murmured. “What can you do for me?”

“Lethal force is authorized, Deputy Walker. You may dispense justice.”

As much as these assholes deserve it, if I started shooting, I knew we weren’t getting out of here alive. “What else?”

She paused. “I show that Lieutenant Bird issued your armor without proper training. Each of you is capable of issuing a local flash pulse effect. There is a limited magnetic pulse effect as well from the electrical discharge. It will disable unshielded circuitry within a five-meter radius Would you like me to initiate this capability?”

Kallaver slapped his stomach and pointed at me. I gave him a sly grin.

“Wait,” I said through gritted teeth.

After draining his drink, Kallaver threw it at the wall behind Bird’s head. Shattered glass fell across nearby faces, who howled laughter. Someone threw a bottle, and in another second the room was filled with crashing and laughter. I couldn’t protect Bird from shards that hit her drooped head.

“When’s the ceremony?” somebody asked.

“Who gives a shit?” another man answered.

Kallaver roared and the room went silent. “I give a shit. James Carthage thinks he’s going to have a nice wedding for his snake of a daughter? We’re here to show him otherwise.”

The crime boss looked at me. “And the Taurus Sheriff isn’t going to do shit about it. Are you, Gage Boy?”

I widened my smile and said, “Now, Ellie.”

33

I squeezed my eyes closed as the room flared with hard light, turning the insides of my eyelids red. The smell of burning plastic filled the air, along with shouts of pain and the sounds of people stumbling over furniture.

“Pulse complete,” Ellie announced.

I drew my pistol and waited two more seconds, just in case. I opened my eyes to find Kallaver’s men stumbling over each other, crawling across the floor, or leaning against the walls. It would have been comical if they weren’t all heavily armed. Several brandished handguns and knives, aiming at sounds.

Sidestepping groping hands, I reached Lieutenant Bird. She was still unconscious from the beating. I pulled one of her arms over my shoulders and got her on her feet. She woke a little as I lifted her, barely opening her swelling eyes.

“Kallaver,” she moaned. “Kill—”

The boss heard his name and swung around in our direction. “You’re dead, Walker.”

I didn’t respond, just enjoyed the sight of the blinded crime boss swiping at the air with useless fists. I led Bird through the confusion until I reached the panel at the door.

“Someone get him!” Kallaver roared.

Unfortunately, the pulse appeared to have cooked the security panel’s comms capability. I had to manually enter the override code, and I messed it up on the first try. I got the command right on the second try, but had to kick a man crawling on the floor that swiped at my feet. He called out to his friends, letting them know we were by the door. The others were stumbling toward us, following the sound of his shouts.

Finally, I yanked the door open and pulled Bird through. I turned and slammed it shut just as Red was crossing the threshold. I felt the impact with his face and heard something hit the floor, followed by angry yelling and more high-pitched screeching from the woman.

“Walker,” Bird said softly. “You came after me.”

“Well, you ordered me to.”

She shook her head. “I let my anger get the best of me. I thought I had him. There were too many.”

I shifted her so my non-firing arm was around her waist and we moved steadily down the hallway. There was no one in sight; the wedding had probably started.

Down the corridor, a concierge drone rolled ahead of us with empty plates rattling on its top. The drone paused at a door and waited for it to open.

“Come on,” I told Bird. “I’m going to get you a place to hide.”

“Emergency beacon,” she said softly.

“Already activated. Backup is on the way.”

The drone complained as I pushed it out of the doorway. The room we entered was a wreck, evidence of hard partying everywhere from the liquor in the bathtub, to the naked mattresses, champagne stains on the ceiling, and other liquids on the walls that I didn’t want to guess about.

The drone waited for us to get out of its way, then rolled forward until it encountered a dumped dinner plate, silverware, and the accompanying food. The door closed, and the drone started to clear the floor, chirping to itself.

I maneuvered Bird to the bed, propped her up against the headboard, and went into the bathroom to fill a towel with ice.

Bird accepted the icepack I brought her and pressed it against her swollen face, looking more awake. “I think I’ve got a broken rib,” she said, voice louder than before. “Kallaver recognized me pretty fast and set them on me. He was full of shit when he said he didn’t remember me. How the hell did they pack so many of them in the room?”

I didn’t answer, knowing she was already beating herself up about rushing into a blind situation. She was lucky to be alive.

“Ellie,” I said. “What’s the status on our backup? Do we need to send more info?”

“Tactical has been activated,” the AI answered. “Estimated travel time is fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes,” Bird groaned. “Are they already engaged somewhere else?”

“Sheriff Nagel has ordered a complete activation,” Ellie said. “Armored infiltration and sniper teams are incoming.”

“Damn,” I said. “He’s not holding back.”

Bird made a pained face as she tried to sit up in the bed.

“You should stay here,” I said. “I’m going to need to get Kallaver and his crew out of here or they’re going to destroy the hotel.”

“I don’t want to, but I’m messed up,” she admitted.

“I should get out to the lobby for the lead in. If I can get Tactical to go around the banquet hall, maybe they can take on Kallaver without endangering everyone at the wedding.”

“We need to evacuate the building,” Bird said.

I nodded. “I’ll activate the fire alarms.”

Bird shook her head. “That’ll be chaos. Tactical will show up with the ravagers all mixed up with the wedding guests. That may happen anyway, but we need to try to keep them together as long as possible.”

“Won’t they be the only ones shooting at us?” I asked.

Bird gave a short laugh, which made her groan in pain. “I doubt that. Try to get them out first. If that doesn’t work, use the alarms.”

“All right.”

I ran back for more ice and then did my best to get Bird set up on the bed.

In the distance, a series of hard thuds made the walls shake.

“They’re about to get through that door,” I told her. “Thought it would hold longer.”

“They’ll be getting their sight back soon,” Bird said.

I cracked the door to check the hallway. The only things in sight were cleaning drones. Then I heard the sounds of shoulders hitting Kallaver’s door in the distance.

“I’m going. I’ll send medics back for you.”

Bird nodded. “Get out of here, Walker.”

The drone followed me out and closed the door, rattling with a belly full of dishes. I checked the door to make sure it was locked.

I’d taken three steps from the door when an explosion rocked the hallway. I turned to see a cloud of dust rolling toward me, with Red’s pale face riding above it like the ghost of some war god, the black muzzle of a handgun emerging from the cloud.

I drew my pistol and fired, squeezing off five rounds. Red dodged. More faces appeared in the dust and immediately ducked back down as they dove for cover. I turned to sprint down the hallway.

“How long now, Ellie? Are they in the building at least?”

“It appears the initial strike team is seven minutes away.”

“Did you send my status?”

“Hold. I’m activating a local tacnet.”

“Walker,” a familiar voice shouted. “Where the hell are you?”

“Keldon? What are you doing?”

“I’m on this mission. Well, in a support role. I passed my fitness test this morning.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were doing that?”

“Because I don’t work for you. What’s going on?”

I shared the situation. He agreed with Bird’s assessment about the chaos a fire alarm would cause but didn’t figure we’d have time anyway.

“We’re almost on-site,” Keldon said. “You get to the lobby for the lead in. Try to minimize destruction as much as possible.”

I sprinted through the kitchen. Cooks and servers jumped out of my way, calling me a bunch of creative names.

“Get out of the way!” I ordered.

I didn’t stop until I hit the door to the banquet hall. Breathing hard, I eased the door open to the sound of swelling string music and a live children’s choir. Closing the door behind me, I paused to catch my breath.

Something crashed in the kitchen and people shouted. Kallaver’s men were about to find me if I didn’t move.

The chairs in the banquet hall were filled with people in a vast array of colors and fashions. As far as I could see, all the rows were full. I spotted Drina and Dierdre toward the head of the room in a reserved section. Dierdre was nodding as the music lowered and the officiant launched into a speech. Other faces I vaguely recognized from the Taurus upper crust appeared among the crowd, looking bored, engaged in internal conversations, or actually following the jumble of words from the stage.

There were several empty rows at the back of the hall, which I suppose would have been filled if the Kallaver and his ravagers were present.

That was about to change.

The wedding party stood at the front of the hall with a harpist to one side. Kiren stood in the middle with a pearlescent dress that hugged her top and burst like a flower at her waist, the colors complementing her red hair. George faced her in a conservative suit that shifted from gray to blue. Three young men resembling George-clones stood nearby.

The officiant stood between Kiren and George, mouth open in the middle of his speech, the harp playing soft notes as he talked. I spotted Haley behind Kiren, yellow hair arranged in a pile on her head, dress the same color as Kiren’s, smiling like this was the happiest day of her life.

Kiren had a serious look, nodding along like the officiant was reading a contract.

Another deadened crash came from the kitchen. I didn’t have much time. It was now or never.

“Stop!” I shouted, walking into the room with my hands raised. “I need everyone to stop and listen to me.”

A note on the harp trailed off in the silence as hundreds of heads turned to look at me.

Wait, what had the officiant been saying?

“Excuse me?” he asked, his words finally penetrating my brain. “Are you actually coming forward to stop this union?”

My face went numb. I looked at Kiren, whose eyes widened as they met mine, then narrowed in a squint that said she was going to kill me. Beside her, George looked confused.

Haley started clapping. “I knew it!” she said, loud with excitement. She pointed at Kiren. “I told you, girl.”

“No,” I shouted again. “No. I need everyone to exit this room in a calm and safe manner. This is no longer a safe place.”

Disturbed murmurs crossed the banquet hall.

“My name is Deputy Walker of the Taurus Station Sheriff’s Office,” I said, realizing I hadn’t told them who I was, and I wasn’t in uniform. I was just a guy with a gun. I fished out my badge and held it up as well. “This place is not safe. Please stand up and exit the hall. The Sheriff’s task force is on its way.”

A few people stood.

“Let’s go,” I shouted. “Exit the room.”

The wedding party didn’t move, and I didn’t have time to go up there and explain things to them. I’d reached the middle of the room, people finally starting to stand, when the first of Kallaver’s men exploded from the side door.

Red was covered in dust, holding a pistol in one hand and a jagged knife in the other. He stood in the entryway for a second, taking in the sight of the guests and the wedding party, then found me and howled his fury. Five more piled after him.

A man seated next to where I was standing asked, “Are those guys looking for you?”

“Not if I can help it,” I said.

The shouts of my pursuers drowned out the general confusion as people finally realized something bad was about to happen. All around me, weapons appeared, chairs were thrown back, and several shouts rose. Red hadn’t taken his eyes off me, which I guessed was a good thing. Maybe I could still lead them out of here.

“Hey, asshole!” I shouted.

“I’m going to break you in half, little cop.”

“Have to catch me first.”

I waited until he was charging at me, making sure the hook was set, then I turned to run, the lobby doors firmly in my sights.

Of course, some helpful citizen had to stick out their leg and trip me. I hit the floor hard, and my pistol flew out of my hand.

34

As soon as I hit the floor, the wedding turned into a brawl. Scrambling for my pistol on my hands and knees, I watched as more people produced weapons. Guns appeared from waistbands; short rifles from pant legs; shock batons from inside thighs; knives, metal knuckles, whips, stilettos, and even a broad-bladed machete appeared from under a serving tray. Howls of rage and maniacal laughter in equal amounts filled the hall like mayhem had always been on the menu and everyone was eagerly awaiting that course.

Scrambling, I found my pistol and got to my feet, ducking a chair a man was swinging at one of gang member’s head.

I couldn’t believe how fast the place had descended into chaos. At the head of the banquet hall, Kiren and George stood in shocked awe, the officiant between them kneading his hands like he didn’t know whether he should run or crawl away and hide.

My path to the lobby became a mess of fighting guests.

I had a new choice now. Get out to the lobby for the lead in with Tactical, who should be arriving any second, or get to the front of the room and try to protect the wedding party? One of the women beside Haley screamed as she ducked a thrown chair that Haley batted out of the way with ease. The scream got the attention of a nearby group bearing the same tattoos that marked them as Kallaver’s.

I didn’t see any way off the stage. George had shifted to stand behind Kiren, who was tearing the lower portion of her dress off to make it easier to fight.

“Keldon,” I shouted. “Are you guys almost here? I’m going to help the wedding party.”

“What’s going on in there?”

“It’s a brawl. Factory members were after me and set everyone off in here. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Sounds like a party. We’re almost there.”

I pushed my way toward the stage, ducking a fist and jumping over two men rolling on the floor.

“Gage Boy!” came a shout from behind me.

I looked back to see Kallaver in the doorway from the kitchen, roaring bloody murder. He stepped forward as more of his men flooded in from behind him.

The shout drew attention to me, as several clots of fighters near me turned to look at who Kallaver was shouting at.

“There you are!” Red shouted. He leaped over a row of chairs, boot landing firmly on the back of a man knocked out on the floor.

I ran for the stage, still a good ten meters away. Red’s approach had at least caught the attention of the people in front of me, their faces masks of terror. I sidestepped one group and fought my way through another clot.

“Stop!” echoed an amplified voice, seeming to come from everywhere at once. I paused, close to the stage now.

It was James Carthage. He’d walked out to the front of the stage, Kiren scowling behind him.

“We’re trying to have a wedding here,” Carthage said. “Let’s get the ceremony over and you’ll have all the food and drink you can handle.”

“Didn’t expect us, did you, Carthage?” Kallaver shouted. “You made a deal with me, and we’re here to cement the relationship.”

Carthage looked like he’d bitten into something rotten and couldn’t spit it out. He composed himself, spreading his hands. “I welcomed you to my daughter’s wedding, Kallaver. Do me the honor of actually letting us finish the show.”

“She’s got bigger balls than the groom,” someone quipped. Snorts of laughter burst around the hall.

Kiren studied the crowd like she was making a list.

“It’s a wedding,” Kallaver answered, raising a beer in one hand and a groggy man by the hair in the other. “You expect us to sit on our hands? What kind of promise is that to the lovely newlyweds? You wish them a future of numbers and white bread. I won’t have it. Not on my Taurus. The Factory is on station, Carthage, and we’re here to make our name known!”

A roaring cheer filled the hall. Fighting resumed with renewed vigor.

I dodged a haymaker that connected with an unsuspecting woman behind me, then leaped over a pair of wrestlers in gray suits. Carthage’s voice bounced off the sounds of rage filling the hall, riding above the clank and clatter of tossed chairs and shattering glassware.

The Factory had taken over the several bars around the hall and were passing out drinks as fast as they could pour. The only lull in fighting was when people stopped to guzzle beer or pass liquor bottles. Kallaver’s men happily passed liquor to their opponents, then resumed the fight.

It was the Factory fest hall all over again. I had to admit there was a bit of glory in the scene. They knew how to party.

I had nearly reached the stage when I got a comms request. “What’s your status?” Keldon asked.

“Didn’t Dispatch update you?” I asked, breathing hard. Ahead of me, Kiren was boxing with a skinny man, while Haley had lifted the harp to drop it on two guests in black suits who were coming at her with broken chairs.

“Somebody’s blocking the hotel surveillance systems,” Keldon said. “We can’t get visual and the Tactical commander wants more intel before they come in.”

“Are you kidding me? Ellie, can’t you do something?”

“I already sent the resonant imaging,” the AI said. “I nearly have the interior surveillance systems. An outside entity has been blocking access. Initiating additional resources.”

I spun away from a jab at my ribs and avoided another opponent who tried to grab my collar.

“Hey, Gage!” Haley called from the stage.

I glanced over to find her waving enthusiastically.

“I knew you had the hots for Kiren,” she said. “I knew it.”

“Now isn’t a good time, Haley,” I said, ducking another punch. Two of Kallaver’s men tried to grab me from front and rear. I slipped out of the way and threw the closest into his friend, cracking their heads together.

“Surveillance access achieved,” Ellie said. “I’m passing all data to the tacnet.”

Thirty seconds later, Keldon shouted, “Hold on. Holy shit. I’ve got you, Gage. Damn, it’s a war zone in there. Why didn’t you say something?”

I started to protest but was cut off.

“Clear traffic,” another voice said. It took a second to recognize Sheriff Nagel. “This is Command One.”

“Sheriff,” I said.

“You all right, Walker?”

“I could use that backup, Sheriff. Lieutenant Bird is wounded. We’ve got Factory everywhere. Kallaver is here. I expect a hostage situation any minute. Did you get the message about his EMP threat?”

“Slow down, Walker. Yes, we’ve got that. We’re going to take Kallaver out. First I need to know if Carthage is safe.”

“Which one, Sheriff?”

“The elder.”

I glanced around, not seeing the tycoon. That didn’t mean he wasn’t in a fight somewhere. “He was here just a minute ago.”

“I’m ordering these idiots to get inside the building. Hold on, Deputy.”

I bit back profanity. How was the Sheriff going to act like he was saving the day when I called for help forever ago?

A new wave of bodies filled the space between me and the exit. I was forced into a fist fight with a wiry gangster who dove at my legs and took me down across an overturned chair. As I rolled to gain the upper hand, someone kicked me in the ribs and then the back of the head.

The armor absorbed the body blow, but my head snapped with the unexpected kick and light flashed in my eyes. I blinked, trying to get my bearings, as smaller hits peppered my chest and arms. When I was finally able to focus, I found the skinny man on top of me, punching frantically at my abdomen. He looked pissed that he wasn’t hurting me more, spittle flying out of his mouth as he worked. I reached for his head, grabbing a handful of hair, and yanked him toward me so he couldn’t hit me anymore.

Someone roared behind the little man and swept him out of the way, leaving me with a handful of greasy black hair. Red loomed above me. His shirt was torn, hands raw and bloody, and it looked like someone had bitten out a piece of his cheek.

“I’ve been looking for you, little cop,” he called. “You ran from me but now there’s nowhere else for you to run. The stars are smiling on me today.”

I tried to scoot away on my back but Red grabbed one of my ankles. He lifted me out of the pile of chairs, then turned and dragged me. I kicked at his hand and the back of his legs but he seemed made of iron. Other ravagers saw what he was doing and started laughing, until I felt like I was being dragged down a tunnel of howling faces.

“Be calm, little policeman,” Red said. “I’m taking you where I can get a better look at you. Besides, I want to see what’s happening with the groom and bride. She ran off the stage like she was going to kill somebody, and that sounds like good fun. I don’t want to miss that.” He laughed and shoved a knot of brawlers out of his way.

My head bounced off the legs of an unconscious man. I tried rotating out of Red’s grip but still couldn’t get free.

“Ellie,” I said. “I need that backup now. Right now.”

I spotted a dropped shock baton and reached for it, then cheered silently when my fingers closed over the handle. I pulled the weapon against my body, finding its power switch with my thumb, and tracked Red’s gait, looking for the best place to get him. I probably couldn’t reach his balls from behind.

“You stopped fighting,” Red said, glancing back at me. I hid the baton against my body. “Have you given up? Are you ready to admit how worthless your life is?”

“And you are?” I said. “You keep talking and talking like I should give a shit.”

“That hurts me,” Red said. He paused, searching among the fighting crowd. “We met in the Factory. You remember me.”

“Beard guy?” I said.

“You aren’t even trying. Haley introduced us.”

“All I remember is that she said you had a micro-penis.”

Red’s fist clamped tighter on my ankle, grinding my skin against the bones.

“It was cold!” Red picked me up and dangled me in front of him. He swung me back and forth, banging my head against chairs on either side of us. I kept the baton against my body, waiting for the right moment.

“You made that up,” he said, forcing a laugh. “Haley would never say that about me.”

Red was standing in the middle of the brawl. Even from my position, I could see knots of fighters shoving against each other. People were getting tired, and now only the dedicated were still actively fighting. I spotted Fratley Oxonos swinging his cane with a fierce sneer on his face, bowler cap pushed back. Some people were on their hands and knees, grabbing at bloody faces, while others lay in mindless heaps. Remaining brawlers grappled with each other like drunk dance partners, pushing back and forth in exhausted bursts.

Turning me so I could face him, Red pointed at his beard and waggled his shaggy eyebrows. “Red!” he said loudly, catching the attention of nearby fighters. “My bloody name is Red.”

I nodded, starting to feel lightheaded from hanging upside-down. “Thanks for reminding me, Red.”

I was actually grateful he’d turned me, as it provided several prime targets for the shock baton.

As the big man grinned at my recognition, I drove the crackling end of the baton into his unprotected groin.

Red squeaked in surprise pain and dropped me to protect his crotch with both hands. I hit the floor and rolled away, then I jumped to my feet and drew my pistol, continuing to move backward to create more space.

Keeping my sights on groaning Red, I assessed the state of the hall. The number of active fighters had reduced even more, while a group was clustered around the low stage at the front of the hall where Kiren and George had stood with the officiant. I guess she hadn’t gone anywhere like Red thought.

James Carthage’s complaints cut through the mix of shouts and laughter, and I realized someone was bullying the tycoon.

Then Kallaver’s deep laugh rose above the mix.

“Now this is a party, Carthage,” the man shouted. He raised a giant mug of beer to his mouth and drained it, then tossed the mug into a clot of fighting guests. The glass shattered with a crash.

At the far end of the hall, brawlers had actually settled back into social groups, with servers navigating the fallen chairs and broken tables to pass out drinks and the remaining hors d’oeuvres. The whole scene struck me as insane, but at least the violence seemed to be subsiding.

I sure was glad Tactical had shown up to save my ass.

“You better run from me,” Red wheezed, still bent over. “When I get you, I’m going to shove that baton up your ass.”

“Was that a violent intention?” I asked. “You know that’s all I need to shoot you.”

“You cops and your rules. Kill me if you’re man enough.”

“My manhood has nothing to do with it,” I said. Now that I had space, non-lethal force was more of an option, and I felt just a little gratification as I shifted the baton to in my hands and sent an electric bolt into Red’s grimacing face. The big man froze, eyes bulging and veins popping, then tilted to the side like a collapsing building and sprawled on the floor.

“Kallaver!” From the stage, a new voice cut through the din. Radiating authority, Lieutenant Bird commanded the Factory leader to put his hands up.

The crowd quickly created space around Lieutenant Bird, dressed only in her armor, kinetic panels outlined in gray. Her face was a collection of purple bruises. She moved steadily, however, her service pistol trained on Kallaver.

I took a step forward, hoping she was going to be able to control herself. Kallaver wasn’t threatening anyone. She couldn’t just shoot him in cold blood.

“Bad choice,” Bird said, and fired.

35

Ellie sent out a department announcement about the ceremony, but I didn’t expect anyone to show up. I stood in the main Department’s conference room in my duty uniform, a clean set, and rocked lightly from heel to toe, counting the empty chairs around the long table.

Kallaver had survived the shot he’d taken. Instead of a bullet, Bird had used a non-lethal riot round. Afterwards, she’d arrested the Factory leader and marched him outside for the media to get his image, negating his threat to the station. His people knew he was alive and incarcerated, so they wouldn’t activate the EMPs.

Kiren had stormed away from the hotel and her groom, calling the wedding a joke and flashing everyone her middle finger on the way out. I hadn’t seen her since. Ever since Kallaver’s confession that she’d also hired him to kidnap her, I hadn’t been interested in seeing her again.

The door opened and Lieutenant Bird walked in, dressed in her admin uniform. She carried a data pad under one arm and gave me a nod when she spotted me. My training had been passed back to Sergeant Keldon, so I hadn’t seen much of her in the two weeks since the wedding. Her frantic demeanor was gone. She was back to the ice-cold admin officer I had first met, fueled, no doubt, by her hours of interrogation with Kallaver before she finally turned him loose. Kallaver seemed to have enjoyed the repartee, even asking her on a date.

His legal team hadn’t been happy. Feeds were full of stories playing up Kallaver’s feud with the Sheriff, and how the Factory wouldn’t dare show their faces on Taurus again. Kallaver told a different story, and Taurus Station had regained a bit of its frontier character as brawls, robberies, smuggling, fencing activities, and a hundred other crimes increased at exponential rates.

As a consequence, my swearing-in had been bumped up several weeks on the Sheriff’s orders. I hadn’t seen him personally, but Keldon told me the Sheriff had ranted that he was tired of me “shamming in training,” whatever that meant.

While the swearing in ceremony with Sheriff Nagel might have set me on edge, I couldn’t be more grateful to get out of the jail. As I’d recorded in my daily journals, if I wasn’t going to make detective any time soon, I was a road deputy all the way.

“You look nervous,” Bird said. “Calm down.”

“I’m trying. Believe me.”

“If I believed you, I wouldn’t tell you to relax yourself. You think Nagel isn’t going to show up? He wants to put you to work and stop wasting Keldon on babysitting. It’s in his best interest to show up.”

“We’re already five minutes past the hour.”

Bird glanced at the clock above the door. “The Sheriff works on his own time. We’ll start when he arrives. Besides, I know this is on his calendar, so he’ll be here.”

“If he doesn’t swear me in, do I stay in training?” I knew the joke was lame even as it left my mouth.

“No,” Bird said dryly. “You get promoted to civilian.”

The conference room door opened halfway, paused, then swung wide as someone shoved it from the hallway. In the gap appeared Sergeant Keldon. He walked in with his chest thrust out, moustache bristling, obviously still enjoying the strength and speed of his new limbs.

Keldon frowned at the empty room, then cocked an eyebrow at me. “You look good, kid. Stop fidgeting so much.”

“I’m not,” I replied.

“I told him,” Bird said. She gave Keldon a smile. “You’re looking good. How do you feel?”

“Like there aren’t enough walls to punch through or doors to kick in. I might give this place another six months before I retire.”

“Six months, huh?” Bird said. “You must really love it here.”

Keldon rapped a knuckle on a forearm, which made a clicking sound. “Nagel’s playing games with me. He says if I get a machine gun arm, I have to promise him two years. And for a sword arm, five years. Can you believe that? Still, I love the idea of Kallaver’s face when I show back up in the Factory with a chain gun arm.” He held his hands out and mimed a heavy machine gun along with swiping sword motions, laughing.

“How would you wipe your ass?” I asked.

Keldon winked at me. “That’s what you’re for, rookie. You think you’re free of me yet?”

Bird snorted.

The conference room door opened and Nagel filled the entrance, his assistant following quickly behind him.

“There he is,” the sheriff boomed. His voice rolled back into the bullpen behind him and several heads popped up from their desks to see what was going on. Nagel noticed the movement, took in the empty conference room, and then raised his voice so it must have filled the whole level. “Everybody in here right now! We’ve got a swearing-in to do. Tradition!”

During the next few minutes, I stood uncomfortably at the front of the room beside the Sheriff as deputies and admin employees filed through the door. A detective looked around the room once he was inside and said, “I thought there was cake?”

“Shut up,” Nagel said, looking pleased with himself. He checked the room as the last attendees packed in. “Today we honor the traditions of the department.”

As the Sheriff switched into speech mode, everyone fell quiet to listen.

“We honor our traditions by remembering those who made the ultimate sacrifice for the people of Taurus Station and those who hold the frontier, to keep the peace and to help secure a better future for everyone in the Deadlands. We remember them, we remember our duty, and today we place the mantle of responsibility on our newest deputy, Gage Walker.”

On that cue, I stepped to a position in front of the Sheriff. Nagel was still a good head taller than me, and up close he was even more like a wall reinforced with Union military augments.

He looked down at me with solemn eyes. “Raise your right hand and repeat after me.”

I raised my right hand. While Nagel spoke the oath of office and I repeated the words, my mind went to my parents, the bureaucrat who had told me the news of their deaths, and the foreman who had told me I’d die the same worthless way right before I broke his nose. I thought of Keldon, and Bird, and every other bone-tired deputy in the department choosing to do the right thing even when it meant long hours and not enough pay. Sometimes they helped that kid who had lost everything and couldn’t control himself. If they didn’t, at least they tried. They saw all the worst days on the station, every day. How hard is that?

Hard.

“I am the candle in the dark,” Nagel said.

On cue, the other deputies in the room repeated with me in unison.

Nagel’s voice shook the room’s windows. “I am the sword and shield protecting the weak.”

“I am the sword and shield protecting the weak.”

“I am justice in the Deadlands.”

“I am justice in the Deadlands.”

“By my shield I swear,” Nagel said.

Now I was the only one to respond. “By my shield I swear.”

The Sheriff dropped his hand. His assistant passed him my duty badge, a gold star with a shield in its center. Nagel fixed the badge on my uniform, then extended his hand. He gave me a fierce smile as his grip threatened to crush my hand.

“Congratulations, Deputy Walker. Welcome to sworn service. You are duty-bound to the Sheriff’s justice.”

I shook Nagel’s meaty hand and couldn’t stop myself from grinning. Bird was next, and then came Keldon’s cool new metal hand. Keldon slapped me on the back and bruised my shoulder.

“Oh,” the sergeant said. “Guess I don’t know my own strength yet.”

Soon I was caught in a line of congratulations, greetings, and reminders that I was now at the bottom of the shift swap list. I was the least senior member of the department, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

When the room was empty except for Bird and Keldon, the sergeant made an exaggerated wave toward the door. “Come on,” he said. “I’ve got tables reserved at Drake’s. You know you have to spend your promotion on booze for all your friends, right?”

I looked at Lieutenant Bird. “Is that true?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Would Sergeant Keldon lie to you?”

Epilogue

I stood near one of the gaming tables in the middle of the Lucky Suns, a run-down casino with gaming on the first level and by-the-hour room rentals on the second. Zombie-like locals sat at the slot machines plugging in credit chips, while the players at the tables looked a little more lively, rolling chips between stained fingers. From what I’d observed in the last twenty minutes, Lucky Suns wasn’t so much a worker’s casino as a place where losers from the bigger gaming houses filtered down, drawn by cheap drinks and low starting plays.

My target stood watch from one of the half hidden alcoves on the main floor, his eyes on Tanys.

I’d finally gotten her to file a report after the man she’d come to me about had left more marks on her. Given that I was the one who helped her file the original anonymous report, I’d been cleared to come question the man. So, for most of the last half hour, I studied the man. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him in my memory.

Deciding it was time to bring him in, I left my position and made to move toward the man.

“Wait,” Tanys said, appearing at my side, a tray of empty glasses balanced on one hand.

There was a new, urgent note in her voice that made me pause. She stepped forward to squeeze my hand.

“Thank you,” she said, looking up at me. “I mean it.”

“It’s my job.”

Something shifted in her expression, as if that hadn’t been what she wanted to hear. She gave me a tight nod and released my hand.

“You better get back to work,” I said. “Keep an eye on Vinnie in case he tries to come your way.”

“I will.”

Vinnie tried to act like he didn’t know I was walking toward him, directing his gaze around the casino as if he wasn’t focused on my approach, hadn’t been watching me the whole time. He stepped away from the wall he’d been leaning against and cracked his knuckles.

I cooled my anger as I walked, assessing Vinnie, tracking everything around me.

“Ellie,” I said. “I’ll be out with one at the Lucky Suns Casino in Sector 8-63.”

“Why are you are outside your assigned sector, Deputy Walker?” the AI asked, as I’d expected.

“I’m following up on a previous assault case.” I shared the case number from my report on Tanys’ bruises.

“Case confirmed. Do you request backup?”

“I’ll let you know in about thirty seconds.”

Vinnie must have seen my grin, because he flashed what looked like a confused frown. Did we know each other?

I checked my surroundings as I approached, counting people, judging light, areas offering cover, exit paths. If Vinnie wanted to fight, we had plenty of room between the payout cages and the slot machines. If he tried to run, I saw only the exterior doors and the lobby desk, but I supposed he might surprise me with some hidden exit into an admin area. There were also his four coworkers to worry about. I figured it would take them at least a minute to reach Vinnie and decide whether they were going to help him fight a deputy or not.

“Please keep me posted on the other security officers in the casino.”

“Of course, Deputy Walker. Stay safe.”

Vinnie watched me approach with his hands pressed together, body language aimed at me. I could see in his face now that he wasn’t going to run. He was curious.

So it was going to be a fight, then.

If he hadn’t been carrying a pistol, I would have switched my duty weapon to non-lethal.

Again, I felt that I recognized the man. I ran through recent memories from the wedding, Kallaver’s hotel room, even the fest hall on the Factory. Something about the man’s face, his stance, seemed familiar. Maybe he was just a type.

Ellie hadn’t pinged on him, so I was probably overthinking things.

“How are you doing, Deputy?” Vinnie asked as I neared the payout cage, voice overly familiar. “Enjoying yourself today?”

“I’m doing great,” I said. “I’d like to talk to you for a second. You work here?”

“Yes, I do. What can I do for you?”

“I’m going to need your ID,” I said.

Vinnie stiffened. He wasn’t much older than me but he had a rough look to him. I watched his gaze slide to the doors past my shoulder.

So he’d run for the street then.

He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Is there some kind of problem, Deputy? We didn’t call for help.”

“Verify identification,” I repeated. “Are you going to comply?”

“I comply,” Vinnie said, holding his hands up. “I always comply. It would be a bit more professional if you told me what this was about.”

“You’re being recorded,” I said. “I’m investigating an assault.”

“Assault?” Vinnie said. “I haven’t assaulted anybody. You’ve got the wrong guy, Deputy.”

“You know, they always say that. If that’s the truth, once you give me your ID, I’ll be out of your hair.”

The guard fumed but handed over his ID token, waiting as I scanned the chip.

“No Taurus warrants,” Ellie reported. “Checking regional database.”

“Copy,” I said.

Vinnie shifted on his feet. “What’s that mean? Who are you talking to?”

“Dispatch,” I told him, glancing up from the ID card. “It means everything is fine. It is, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Deputy Walker,” Ellie said, voice urgent in my ear. “I show law enforcement returns on Maris and Stala. He has recently altered his appearance with cosmetic surgery and the ID token has been altered.”

“Send them,” I said. I quickly checked the warrants for failure to appear in court on a stalking and assault charge from Maris, which was more than five SG Points away. The report said Vinnie had fought three Union officers before escaping custody.

“I’m sending backup,” Ellie said.

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“Everything all right?” Vinnie asked.

The warrants made things easy. I could take Vinnie in on the prior charges and then add my assault case.

“Vinnie Crafter,” I said. “I have a warrant for your arrest. Turn around and face the wall.”

The guard’s hands went up and a memory resurfaced. A man in an alley with green hair. This was the technician I’d found in the maintenance corridor after the party barge bombing. The one Keldon had been said was a meshie.

I put my hand on my pistol.

Vinnie leaped forward, driving a hammer-like fist into my stomach. The armor absorbed most of the blow but he was bigger and knocked me back. I stumbled, arms going wide.

The big man turned to sprint toward the casino’s front doors.

From a door to my right, one of the other guards appeared with a pistol. He leaned out of the opening and fired, then dropped to a knee and shot again, forcing me to slide behind a slot machine.

“You are under attack,” Ellie said.

“I’m aware of that. Thanks.” I raised my weapon and waited for the guard to poke his head out again. “Sheriff’s department. Put down your weapon,” I ordered.

The guard fired again. Another suit appeared in the doorway, this one with a rifle. Behind me, I heard screams and the sound of glassware hitting the floor. Civilians were in danger.

“Sheriff’s justice,” I told Ellie.

“Lethal force acknowledged.”

Bringing my armor to full-power, I stood to target the two guards.

“Thirty seconds power remaining,” Ellie informed me.

“You are guilty of assaulting a peace officer,” I said. “This is the Sheriff’s justice.”

They didn’t stand down. Rounds ricocheted off my armor.

I shot the first guard in his center of mass. Blood exploded from his back, coating the man next to him. Suit number two flinched, and I caught him in the chest as well.

“Ten seconds,” Ellie said.

Where did the time go?

There was a hallway behind the two fallen security guards. Four more were running toward me. They didn’t look like they’d realized their friends were dead yet.

“Disengaging, Ellie. I’m going after Vinnie.”

“Stay safe, Deputy Walker.”

I ran after Vinnie and nearly tripped over an old man crawling out from under a blackjack table. He told me to go to hell as I jumped over him. I reached the street outside and managed to spot Vinnie fighting the crowd fifty meters up the street.

The area in front of Lucky Suns was jammed with tourists. Two party barges sat paused in front of the casino as a tour guide rambled the history of the casino in a lilting voice. Ellie immediately connected with the outside surveillance systems, using my armor’s enhanced comms capabilities to track changes in crowd activity. I received a ping from the sidewalk on the far side of a party barge.

“He’s trying to leave this street for the next block over,” Ellie said.

“Can I get drone support?”

“I just sent the request. You have low patrol priority.”

“Even after that shoot-out?”

“Medical support is en route, Deputy Walker.”

People got out of my way as I ran down the sidewalk. Above me, the tour guide’s voice went up an octave as he pointed at me charging through the crowd, pistol drawn. Thumping music rose with cheers from the surrounding barges.

I crossed the street and spotted Vinnie running about twenty meters ahead, dodging tourists. He held the side of his head as he ran, shouting frantically into some kind of comms link.

“Crafter!” I shouted. “Stop!”

Vinnie glanced back at me, then shoved a woman out of his way. He disappeared around the corner of a building.

“Deputy Walker,” Ellie said. “The extended investigation of your subject is complete. He has multiple connections with a Ravager syndicate called the Slayers. He’s associated with a series of hacking and terroristic crimes just on Taurus Station. I have asked Records to run similar analysis on Maris and Stala.”

Keldon had recognized Vinnie as a hacker from the jump. So Vinnie’s frantic calls as he ran were probably requests for help from his gang.

Ellie sent an update. “Records indicate that if we don’t take Vinnie into protective custody, he will either commit suicide or be killed by the Slayers.”

The building’s data populated in my HUD, showing it as an apartment stack. The current resident registry and locations of power and network nodes appeared on the wire grid. If Vinnie reached the roof, he’d find several options to jump to nearby buildings. If he went into the basement, he would find several surface tunnels to the nearby stacks.

I ran into the lobby and picked up sensor returns from a nearby stairwell.

Vinnie was climbing.

“Tactical is five minutes out,” Ellie said.

“Aren’t they always five minutes out?” I said. “Where’s my drone support?”

“I elevated your priority. I’m locking down the lifts as well.”

I climbed the stairs where Vinnie had run. The last thing I needed was for Vinnie to ride a lift to the basement while I was still pounding my way up levels.

I paused beside the door to catch my breath. My HUD wasn’t picking up a lot of sensor data from the roof, and it looked like the outside temps were obscuring IR readings. I’d be going through the door blind.

If Vinnie was going to stand and fight, the door was his best chance for an ambush.

I shifted my pistol to lethal scatter and eased the door open a crack. Chill wind blew in my face, but there was no sign of Vinnie.

I kicked the door outward and ran onto the roof as Ellie scanned the area.

“Vinnie,” I shouted. “I can help you!”

I came around the housing of a giant ventilation fan and spotted him at the roof’s edge, climbing a low railing. There were maybe fifteen meters between us.

I raised my pistol. “Stop, Vinnie,” I shouted. “I can help you.”

He ignored me. It looked like he meant to jump to the lower building behind him, separated by an alley that was still a good ten-meter gap. If I had backup, I would send them into that building to pick him up on the other side. As far as I knew, that wasn’t currently an option.

“Where’s my drone, Ellie?”

“Still pending.”

“Pending is the new five minutes away,” I said.

“I don’t understand, Deputy Walker.”

“Now that’s a first.”

Vinnie’s other option was to drop off the railing to the alley below. While I didn’t want to think I might be chasing someone into suicide, I couldn’t discount the possibility. According to the building schematic, there were no external fire escapes or ledges. It was a twenty-level drop to the alley below.

I closed another five meters, close enough for us to hear each other without shouting.

Vinnie was shaking his head, breathing hard. “How the hell did you find me?” he demanded.

I kept my pistol ready, but lowered it slightly. “Come off the railing. Let’s talk about this.”

“I was in the clear,” Vinnie whined like a kid. “You didn’t know what I was doing. You chased the other decoy. And then I was gone. How the hell did you track me to the casino? It’s been too long. I covered my tracks.”

I paused five meters from Vinnie. At this distance, I could see the jump to the other building was wider than I’d thought. Without a running start, no normal person would make the distance. According to Ellie’s scans, Vinnie wasn’t augmented.

“Back away from the railing,” I said. “We can talk about it over here. Like I said, I think I can help you.”

“There’s no talking about it,” Vinnie said, desperation in his voice. “If you found me, you’ll find them. I’m a dead man.”

“I’m not worried about them. Just you.”

Sirens sounded on the street below. So Tactical’s five minutes had finally passed. They would be setting up a perimeter as Ellie shared my sensor feed.

Of course, if Vinnie jumped, that would solve Tanys’ problem, and I’d still have my lead on whoever bombed the party barge.

I couldn’t wait to rub this in Keldon’s face.

“They’re going to kill me,” Vinnie said.

“We can help.” I moved closer. “This doesn’t have to end today.”

Vinnie stood straighter on the railing, turning so he faced me full on. “It does end today. I bombed those barges. I followed my orders.”

“Orders from who?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. I realized what he was about to do and charged forward, but I was too late.

Vinnie fell backward over the edge.

My fingers brushed his shoes as he fell away from the railing. I caught myself from following him, only to get blasted by a rush of cold air from below.

Beneath the edge of the roof, a drone struggled under Vinnie’s weight as the bouncer dangled by the leg from one of its claws.

“Deputy Walker,” Ellie asked. “Has the drone arrived? The wind is affecting my sensors.”

“Just got here,” I answered. “And it sounds like Tactical finally showed up.”

“Are you all right?”

“Code four,” I said. “I’m good. One in custody.”

* * *

GAGE will return in GALACTIC JUDGE, available now on Amazon.

For more updates on this series, be sure to join the Facebook Group, “J.N. Chaney’s Renegade Readers.”

Renegade Star Universe

The Renegade Star Universe

Click the titles below to reach the book’s Amazon page

The Renegade Star Series

They say the Earth is just a myth. Something to tell your children when you put them to sleep, the lost homeworld of humanity. Everyone knows it isn't real, though. It can't be.

But when Captain Jace Hughes encounters a nun with a mysterious piece of cargo and a bold secret, he soon discovers that everything he thought he knew about Earth is wrong. So very, very wrong.

Climb aboard The Renegade Star and assemble a crew, follow the clues, uncover the truth, and most importantly, try to stay alive.

The Last Reaper Series

When a high value scientist is taken hostage inside the galaxy's most dangerous prison, Halek Cain is the only man for the job.

The last remaining survivor of the Reaper program, Hal is an unstoppable force of fuel and madness. A veteran amputee-turned-cyborg, he has a history of violence and a talent for killing that is unmatched by any soldier.

With the promise of freedom as his only incentive, he’ll stop at nothing to earn back his life from the people who made him, imprisoned him, and were too afraid to let him die.

The Orion Colony Series

Humanity’s Exodus is about to begin.

When half of mankind revolts and demands more opportunity, those at the top decide on a compromise: they will build the first colony ships and allow those who are willing to discover new worlds to leave and start over.

Twelve ships are built, the first of which is called Orion. Many are eager to go, but only one hundred thousand are chosen for each vessel. Far from Earth, a new life awaits, and it promises the prosperity they’ve always wanted.

But still, resistance stirs, eager to sabotage this new expansion effort, threatening the promise of a new life. As Orion moves through the void of space, towards a distant world, its passengers must fight for survival in an unprecedented conflict.

Win or lose, their future will be forever changed.

The Fifth Column Series

After a soldier is left for dead, Eva Delgado's life begins to unravel.

The truth of what happened remains a mystery, and the government will stop at nothing to keep it buried.

Together with the unit's medic, Eva finds herself branded a terrorist and enemy of the State, hunted by two opposing governments.

When the pair uncover a plot that could have ramifications for the whole galaxy, they know they have to act, but it will take all of their training, cunning and just a bit of luck to do what no one else has achieved.

But what do you do when every secret begets another? And how far will you go to find the truth?

Nameless (Abigail’s Story)

Abigail and Clementine were just a couple of orphans looking for a home.

But when the two girls witness something terrible, they have no choice but to leave their orphanage and go into hiding. The only person willing to take them in is a man named Mulberry, but his home isn't the safest place for two innocent children.

Abigail and Clementine quickly discover that their new caretaker is the head of a guild of assassins, and the two are thrown into a whole new world of danger. To survive, they'll need to adapt, focus, and learn how to survive in a world of killers.

The Constable (Alphonse’s Story)

My name is Alphonse Malloy, and I see everything.

From a simple glance, I know your hobbies, what you ate for breakfast, how well you slept, and whether or not your wife is secretly seeing the high school biology teacher when you're not around.

I can't explain how or why I get these feelings, only that I know they're true.

All the little secrets you're too afraid to tell.

Sometimes, that means helping people. Other times, it means staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.

I wish I could tell you I was using this ability for good.

I wish I could tell you a lot of things.

* * *

The Constable Returns

Alphonse Malloy may just be the smartest man alive.

A year has passed since Alphonse joined the Constables, but his work is only just beginning. In order to graduate and achieve full Constable status, Alphonse will need to complete one final mission.

When new information about an old enemy arises, Al and his mentor Dorian must head deep into the Deadlands in search of answers.

But in a galaxy of secrets, the truth is often more elusive than it seems.

As the search continues, Alphonse's talents will be pushed to their absolute limit, and he'll need everything he's learned to make it out of this one alive.

Warrior Queen (Lucia’s Story)

On a lost world, far removed from Earth, a group of humans struggle to survive.

Two thousand years after their ancestors lost control of a hidden genetics research facility, the descendants of mankind have been reduced to a tribe of two hundred survivors. They fight, kill, and die in an endless cycle, all in the hope that things will get better.

Lucia is one of these colonists and the daughter of the tribe's leader, the Director. Together with several other candidates, she must soon undergo a trial to decide her father's replacement. The winner will shape the future of the entire colony.

But the trial is dangerous, meant to test each candidate's wits and strengths to see who is truly worthy. To claim victory, Lucia will need to venture out into the tunnels near the city to search for lost artifacts known as Cores--small but powerful devices capable of harnessing endless energy.

But there are monsters here, waiting in the dark, and they are always hungry. Beware the Boneclaw, Lucia's father use to tell her, for it lives only to kill and to feed.

Lucia must do whatever it takes, learn as much as she can, and fight with every ounce of strength if she hopes to make it through the day.

Forget winning the trial. The real challenge is staying alive.

Resonant Son Series

30 floors of nightmare fueled action. An ex-cop with nothing left to lose.

After losing his job and family, Flint Reed finds himself in the middle of a terrorist attack. With nothing but his wits and experience as a former Union police officer, he must do everything he can to stay alive.

As he soon discovers, however, there are also hostages, and no one is coming to save them.

All hope falls to Flint.

But as he fights to navigate the building, the real answers begin to unravel. What are the terrorists really after, and why are they so intent on getting into the vault?

Experience the beginning of the Resonant Son series. If you're a fan of Die Hard, Renegade Star, or the Last Reaper, you'll love this epic scifi thrill ride.

Galactic Law Series

Lethal force is authorized.

In the wild space of the Deadlands, Taurus Station is where miners and tourists come to play, and the ravager gangs follow close behind. Out here, far from the civilized world, the Law has a name.

Gage Walker is the son of hard-nosed asteroid miners. Brash, rough, and crude, he's one of the few deputies working the station.

Still a rookie, Walker is tasked with the security of a mining magnate's daughter, an easy job that quickly takes a turn for the worst.

The ravager gangs want her, and it falls to Walker to find out why.

In a chase across Taurus Station, Deputy Walker must prove he's fit to wear the badge and issue his own form of justice...one body at a time.

* * *

Deadland Drifter Series

When a dental appointment goes sideways, former Union Operative Jack Burner wakes to find himself drugged, and imprisoned.

And he's given a choice: assassinate an Admiral... or allow himself to be killed.

With no other option, Jack reluctantly accepts the mission, only to find himself being trailed by a mysterious blonde woman... and she may or may not want him dead.

As if dealing with a terrorist group wasn't enough.

With the fate of the Admiral and thousands of lives on hanging in the balance, Jack stands in the middle of an event that could ignite a war on the edge of the Deadlands and Union Space.

Despite his exceptional abilities, training, and tenancy, even Jack has little to no chance of preventing this particular powder keg from exploding.

He's going to need a miracle.

Join the conversation and get updates on new and upcoming releases in the Facebook group called “JN Chaney’s Renegade Readers.” This is a hotspot where readers come together and share their lives and interests, discuss the series, and speak directly to J.N. Chaney and his co-authors.

Join the Facebook Group

He also post updates, official art, and other awesome stuff on his website and you can also follow him on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.

For email updates about new releases, as well as exclusive promotions, visit the link and enter your email address.

Click Here

Enjoying the series? Help others discover the Galactic Law series by leaving a review on Amazon.

Connect with James S. Aaron

I send out updates mostly weekly. I share science, space, futurism and science fiction-related things I’ve found, lots of SF art, deals on great reading, movies, etc, basically anything I might be tempted to pick up myself. I also share updates on my work.

To stay connected, head to the link below and sign up for the newsletter.

https://www.jamesaaron.net/list/

About The Authors

J. N. Chaney is a USA Today Bestselling author and has a Master's of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. He fancies himself quite the Super Mario Bros. fan. When he isn’t writing or gaming, you can find him online at www.jnchaney.com.

He migrates often, but was last seen in Las Vegas, NV. Any sightings should be reported, as they are rare.

* * *

James S. Aaron is a science fiction writer living in Oregon by the McKenzie River.

He is a member of the Science Fiction Writers of America and has been a reporter, a magazine writer, and a U.S. Army medic and company commander.

When he's not writing, he loves spending time in the outdoors, studying space exploration and retro futurism, doing his own DIY projects, reading and talking about Science Fiction, Fantasy and pretty much any speculative fiction you can think of.

His latest series is the Galactic Law series.