Poisoned Pawn (9 page)

Clark and I were put into separate flitters. We weren’t cuffed, which I took for a good sign.

The police station had pillars, too, just not as chunky as a Patrol office. I was escorted to a desk in the back of the busy room. A Shuisha, a short furry sapient who wore a simple belt with a badge on it for clothing, asked for my prints. I put my hand on the scanner and identified myself. The computer beeped and the Shuisha’s baby blue eyes went as big as saucers. It jumped down from the chair and bustled across the room to whisper with a human officer.

The human officer came across the room, her boots thudding heavily on the thin carpet. She bent over the computer console and pushed a few buttons. The Shuisha climbed back onto its chair and watched me. The human officer shot me a confused look and went away.

“Come with me, please,” said a pleasant voice behind me.

I stood to face a tall man, distinguished looking in a plain dark suit. He smiled blandly and indicated an office to one side.

Man number one was on the far side of the room, near the holding cells, glaring and talking fast. I saw no sign of Clark. I went into the office, glad to get away from man number one.

The office was paneled with dark wood. The carpet underfoot was twice as thick as that outside. The man shut the door, closing out the busy noise of the main room.

“Please, sit, captain.” He went behind his desk.

I found a chair and sat.

“Your record is most…” He hesitated, steepling his fingers. “Intriguing. Would you care to explain?”

“Explain what?” I asked, resigned to being questioned yet again about things I wasn’t supposed to ever talk about.

“Viya Station lodged a complaint against you personally,” he began, calling up my record on his desk console. “You have quite a police record as well. All charges taken care of, I see.” He scrolled down. “And then there is this very interesting section. It refers me to the nearest Patrol headquarters for information. Should I call them?”

“What are you charging me with?” I didn’t want to explain any of my past. None of it was my fault. Well, most of it wasn’t.

“Disturbing the peace, which we take very seriously on Shamustel.”

“They were shooting at me.”

“Your crewman has been charged with assault.” The police commander was being very reasonable, which meant he wasn’t going to be reasonable at all.

“But that man had the gun.”

“Why was he following you?”

“I don’t know.”

That got me a raised eyebrow and a skeptical look.

“I have legitimate business here.” I pulled out my contract. “I’m just trying to make a living. It isn’t my fault I was shot at and attacked.”

“We’ll see about that.” A noncommittal answer that could be interpreted any way I wanted to. “We’ll run a full check on you and your business. Until then, captain, I would suggest you and your crewman remain on your ship.” He speared me with a look. “And don’t lift until we give you permission. You may go now.”

I wanted to tell him exactly what I thought of him but decided it wouldn’t be smart. I clamped my mouth shut and left his office.

I stomped my way through the busy room, collecting a few stares and whispers as I went. Man number one was gone, hopefully locked up tight somewhere. I didn’t see Clark anywhere in the room.

He wasn’t out in the lobby either. He was in front of the building, leaning against one of the fat pillars, waiting for me. I stopped in front of him, glaring.

“Who are you really?”

“Trevyn Clark.” He knew what I really asked, I saw it in his eyes. I also saw a stubbornness there that rivaled my own.

“Who do you work for?”

“You, at least that’s what my contract says.”

“Who planted you on my ship?”

“Dace, this is a bit public, don’t you think?” He took my arm and pulled me away.

I dug in my heels and dragged him to a stop. “I want answers, Clark.”

“So do I. Let’s go back to the ship and find some.”

I gave in. No matter who he really worked for, I thought Clark was on my side.

Jasyn was waiting for us, like I’d expected. She leaned against the hatch, arms crossed, as we walked up. “You were on the news. I’m surprised I didn’t have to come bail you out again.”

“Again?” Clark asked, eyebrows raised. “You do this often, Dace?”

“You should know,” I said, shoving past him into the ship. “Didn’t Lowell give you my record to read?”

“Are we back on that again?” Jasyn followed me in. “Tell her you don’t work for the Patrol, Clark, so she’ll shut up about it.”

He didn’t say anything. He stepped inside and thumbed the controls. The hatch slid shut.

Jasyn looked back and forth between us. “Are you going to tell me what happened, Dace? Or do I have to beat it out of you?”

I went to the cockpit and sat in front of the computer. “I was attacked. The police arrested one of the men shooting at us and restricted me to the ship. Clark, too, so you’ll have to collect our cargo.” I handed her the contract. “And record it with the Guild.”

She sighed. “I swear you do this on purpose, just so I have to do the paperwork. Your hand’s bleeding.”

“It’s stopped.”

“What are you going to do here, Dace?” Jasyn asked.

“Find some answers, I hope.”

“To what?”

That stumped me. What questions was I really trying to answer?

“Who’s following you and why,” Clark said in the doorway. “Those men were after you, Dace.”

Jasyn rolled her eyes. “I’ll just go take care of the cargo, shall I? Payment up front?”

“Some.” I gave her the short version of my conversation with Juntis Shoot. “I left a request with the Guild library on those planets,” I finished.

“You keep getting picked up by police and the Guild will kick you out,” Jasyn said.

“I’m not trying to.”

“You just have bad luck, I know. Back in a couple of hours.”

She left and Clark sat in the pilot chair, swiveling it around to face me. I held my hands over the keypad, unsure of what questions to ask or where to even start looking.

“You want me to key in my personal file?” Clark asked. “That should answer your questions about me.”

“Do you work for Lowell?” I asked, dropping my hands and facing him.

“Would it really make a difference if I did?” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m here as a pilot. Does the rest matter?”

“I guess not,” I admitted.

“Then let’s get down to business.” He leaned forward and typed rapidly. “The men weren’t typical Targon Syndicate. They don’t usually use obvious hit men. But it could have been bounty hunters. The price on your head is enough to tempt some of them.”

I leaned back, out of his way. His fingers flew across the keys. A security screen only slowed him for a second.

“Targon wants you alive. Which is why it’s strange they were shooting at you today. Ah.” He stopped typing while words flowed across the screen. “Stun pellets.” He hit a few more keys. A large diagram took the place of text on the screen. “We’re not in Targon space anymore. Shamustel is marked off limits. Local government is too tough on thugs.”

“Just what database are you into?”

“Don’t ask and I won’t have to shoot you,” he said, typing again.

He reminded me of Tayvis when I’d run into him on Dadilan. He was working undercover and had told me something similar.

“Do you know Malcolm Tayvis?” I asked on impulse.

His hands froze over the keys. He deliberately started typing again. “Who?” he asked a shade too innocently.

“Never mind.” I slumped in my chair.

“The locals have called in the Patrol to find those other men,” Clark said. “We should be cleared to leave. What planets did you say we were going to?”

“Ytirus, Cygnus, and Kimmel.” I picked at the blood drying on the back of my hand.

“You ought to take care of that,” Clark said without even looking.

“It’s just a scrape. How did you get there in time?”

“Talent of mine, riding to the rescue in the nick of time.”

“Just like in your book,” I said, referring to the bad romance novel I found in his chair.

He looked at me, puzzled for a second before he remembered. “Just like in the book,” he said flatly and turned back to the screen.

“I’ll go take care of this,” I said waving my scraped hand. The blood was dry, the scrape already scabbed over. It was an excuse to check out the bag I’d seen him drop on the table on his way in.

He watched me, sudden suspicions of his own on his face. I made a big show of getting out the med kit and washing my hand. He flicked a glance at the bag and shrugged, turning back to the screen. Whatever was in the bag, he didn’t care if I saw it or not.

“Isn’t privacy allowed on your ship?” he asked when I pulled the bag open.

“I just want to read the sequel,” I said as a book slipped out of the bag. It looked a lot like the other book, except the woman on the front was brunette. I flipped it open.

“You shouldn’t read trash like that,” Clark said.

“You do,” I teased him. “Chapter Six, Death in the Darkness.”

He muttered something about nosey women. I put the book back in the bag and closed it.

“Do you want me to put it in your cabin before Jasyn sees it?”

He swiveled the chair all the way around, looking at me instead of the screen. His eyes were opaque. He studied me, deciding something. I held the bag in my hands and watched him back. The computer beeped. He pushed a button without looking.

“Go ahead.” He swung back to the computer.

I opened the door to his cabin. His bunk had a dark blue blanket on it, one of the ones Jasyn had stocked. There wasn’t anything personal about the space at all, nothing to indicate who he was, what he liked. No pictures, no collections of things, not even dirty clothes. I put the bag on his bunk and left.

“Satisfied?” he asked.

“With what? You keep it clean enough.”

“Yes,” he said, and rubbed his hands together. He typed rapidly and hit the send button. Then he grinned wickedly, his green eyes gleaming. “That should stop Targon and the others for a while. As long as we don’t head back this way too soon, they should back off and leave you alone. We’re heading into Cygnus sector where the government does not tolerate interference in trade.” He leaned back, touching the keypad. The screen went blank.

“Who are you sending messages to?”

“Still suspicious, Dace?”

“Always. It keeps me alive.”

“You’ve got friends, if you’ll take them.”

“And if they wear uniforms, I don’t want them.” I shoved a hand through my hair. “Are you cooking tonight or do I have to?”

He stood, standing close. Too close. I took a step back into the lounge hoping I wasn’t too obvious. I liked him, no matter who he really worked for, liked him as a friend. But I didn’t want him getting any closer. He pretended not to notice. He walked past me into the galley.

I went into my cabin and shut the door. I didn’t own much either. The only obvious personal touch was the blanket on my bunk, the bright striped one Jasyn had picked for me. I lay down and moved my pillow. I shifted the blaster I slept with then felt under the mattress edge where I kept the note Tayvis had sent me, a scribbled bit of paper creased and worn from handling. I had a picture of him, too, a grainy shot from a surveillance camera that Leon, our lawyer, got for me.

I rolled over, punching the pillow behind me and studied the picture. Tayvis’ dark hair curled just at the ends, one strand brushing across his forehead. His eyes were brown, usually warm. Not the last time I’d seen him, I remembered and wished I hadn’t. He’d walked away from me, his face a mask that gave no hint of his emotions. I’d told him to go away, and meant it when I said it. I wanted to take those words back. I wanted to see him again so bad it hurt.

There was a knock at the door. I shoved the picture and note back away as the door slid open.

Jasyn leaned on the doorframe. “Just send him a note, Dace, and get it over with.”

“I tried.”

“No luck?” She read the answer on my face. “Cargo’s here.”

“I’ll be right out,” I promised.

She shut the door behind her. I sat up and rubbed my face. What was done and past, was done and past. I couldn’t change it. I could only hope the future was better.

I went to help load ceramic collectibles.

We lifted shortly after sunset, after eating the dinner Clark made. It was better than what I would have made, though nothing like Jasyn’s cooking. The cargo filled up less than half of the holds. The police gave us polite permission to leave, which sounded more as if they were happy we were going and would we please take our problems with us when we left.

The ship had a slight wobble as we made the jump to hyperspace. I’d have to find a few hours to balance the shaft again.

“Two days and a bit,” Jasyn announced as we shut down the sublight engines. “Good thing I managed to go shopping for supplies before you got arrested again.” She held up her hand to stop my protest. “I’m teasing you, Dace. Just quit making a habit of getting in trouble.”

“I think I’ll just sit here when we get to Ytirus and fix that wobble in the thrusters.” I crossed my arms.

“You want to borrow my book or have you read it already?” Clark locked in a final setting.

“You got another one?” Jasyn asked. “What can you possibly see in them?”

“Entertainment.” He flipped switches over his head.

“I can think of a lot better things to be entertained by, like sleep.” She yawned and tapped the nav board. “All set on auto.” She left the cockpit.

Clark leaned back in his chair, watching the streaks of light on the vidscreen. “I always wondered why it did that in hyperspace. Is that what hyperspace really looks like or is it energy waves or something else entirely? Tell me you never thought about it and make me believe it. You’re curious enough about everything else.”

“And it gets me in no end of trouble.”

He laughed “Are we friends again? Or are you going to snoop through my things when I’m not looking?”

“Why would I do that?”

“To find proof that I work for Lowell, like you keep accusing me of.” He didn’t sound upset, he sounded amused.