Runner: The Fringe, Book 3 (28 page)

On an IWOG planet like Juno, most folks never paid any attention to IWOG officers. They were everywhere, ubiquitous with their dark blue suits with a red swath down the front. Bloody maroon swath. Creepy, if one considered it long. Foster had all the time in the world to consider everything but his goal of saving Jynx. Forcing her to the back of his mind, he dropped his gaze down his body. The weird fabric didn’t cling to him like motton did. It made him look flat, utterly devoid of genitals, like a doll. Whatever it was shed stains and wrinkles but also muted the powerful display of his body.

Male or female, anybody in an IWOG uniform looked like an androgynous manikin. Twenty years later and his uniform still fit and looked brand new. It amazed him that they’d never updated the design. Black equipment belt, filled with his own special toys, and short black boots capped the outfit off.

Other officers, male and female, acknowledged him with a nod as they went past each other. Higher or lower rank didn’t matter. They all just nodded as was the custom on an IWOG planet like Juno. Otherwise, they’d spend the whole day saluting each other and never get anywhere.

Slathering himself with cologne, antiperspirant, hair gel—the usual slew of IWOG products—that morning, before he took the flight from Banna to Juno, Foster smelled just as chemical as everyone else. Wafting bits of it burned his eyes and nose, but he kept his attention on a chattering palm com just like everyone else. Difference was, Foster took surreptitious glances around, looking for even the tiniest flicker of recognition.

He didn’t find any. He looked the part, smelled the part and even walked with that stick-up-the-butt march he’d learned long ago in the military. Look like a duck, walk like a duck, smell like a duck and quack like a duck—everyone is going to think you’re a duck.

With a prissy gesture, just as one of his rank would, he settled himself in the first class section of the trans. Plush blue-and-red seats that mimicked the color of his uniform cradled his butt. Silent scanners looked his body over for the credit key, and a light flashed from green to red. Foster acknowledged the confirm module with an impatient sigh, pressed his thumb to accept the charge, then turned his attention away when it went green.

Computers would read him as Lieutenant Jerry Shelton and deduct credits for the ride from Jerry’s account. Poor Jerry. He’d wake up two days from now in a heap of hot water, but Foster didn’t give a shit. He didn’t care how many people he had to hurt or even kill to get Jynx back.

Even if she slapped his face, kneed him in the nuts, bit his finger, then told him to get bent for good measure, he was still bound and determined to get her off Juno alive and kicking. Or die trying. 260Mil in credits, two metal cylinders and a long letter were already on the way to Windmere. Foster shot off one of his shuttles,
Darn You Too
, with the package, then immediately turned the
Damn You
to Corona.

Landing his ship in Borealis, he sucked up fanfare for three days. Foster paraded to the media just long enough for attention to shift from him back onto Jynx. Drinking and carousing, always keeping an eye to his com, Foster outwardly played a tough guy celebrating a job well done as he waited, agonizing over every step of his carefully crafted and likely doomed-to-fail plan.

Once people stopped paying so much attention to him, he carefully made his way back to Juno. He changed his appearance, strapped a cool 10Mil to his hips, and blended right back into a world he left behind almost twenty years ago.

The forward vid of the Port Belle trans sprang to life with breaking news. Foster wanted to sigh with relief but didn’t dare. Worry left him as he looked up expectant, just as did everyone else. It all came together in a shocking rush.

Jynx Brennan, still dressed in that lilac spring dress, hands cuffed in front of her, sat on trial. Her lovely hair obscured her face as she hung her head. Deep down Foster recognized that woman was not Jynx. No way would she sit so downcast and beaten.

Foster watched as did all the other passengers. To look away would single him out. To further blend in, he made a comment about how they should just cut the crap and hang the bitch as a trial was a waste of everyone’s time and money. Feeling sick to his stomach, he nodded agreement when the man next to him suggested a public stoning would be entirely justified in a case like this.

Without warning, Jynx shot up from the defendant’s table, turned to the guard behind her, and plucked out his gun. Before she could shoot anyone, Roberts, sitting behind the prosecution table in the spectator seats, pulled a gleaming IWOG officer’s pistol from her shoulder holster and blew a perfect hole in Jynx’s heart.

Jynx slumped to the floor as screaming spectators flooded the exit doors of the courtroom. IWOG officers fought to restore order, and cameras drew in for a close-up of Jynx’s dying face. Her eyes snapped with insanity and fury then slowly faded to death. But the eyes were blue, not violet. Someone had tried to make them violet but hadn’t quite captured the right color. Not a chance in the Void those were Jynx’s eyes.

Amazingly, everyone believed what they had witnessed.

Just like everyone else he cheered and claimed Roberts a hero. If he didn’t, he’d attract attention to himself as the only one who failed to rejoice. They all really thought that Jynx alone was accountable for the Tyaa plague. Foster wanted to stand and start bashing their stupid, gullible heads together but didn’t. He just cheered and made rude comments then settled back to watch the rest of the show.

Jynx Brennan, lifeless and kicked facedown on the floor, was pronounced dead. According to the breathless reporter, within an hour, her body would be unceremoniously tossed to the nearest crematorium. Cries that it be carted through the streets were shot down that, if nothing else, they should at least harvest her chemicals to recyc. Not a soul would want her organs, so using her as a donor was out of the question.

Foster thought Roberts had covered all the bases well. Idly he wondered who Roberts had really shot, because it wasn’t Jynx. Some clueless lackey would be tossed to recyc as Jynx lived on.

Switching channels on his custom palm com, Foster tracked the now faded sparkle of paint that still lingered on Jynx. She had not moved since he’d been close enough to track her this morning from Juno. Without a doubt, she was still confined to a north cell in the basement of the Port Belle courthouse.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“I’ve got something to show you.” Roberts entered her cell and settled herself on the bunk. Lifting a remote, she flicked the com unit on with one slender red-tipped finger.

Jynx saw herself sitting on trial. Confusion filled her, but she didn’t react. She hadn’t been summoned to trial. She’d been sitting in her cell for well over a week, going crazy from thinking of Foster and wondering if he was okay. Wondering with a foolish heart if he ever really loved her or if he had just been playing her all along. In the dark of night, Jynx melted in her mind to his brutal then tender touch. Heaven help her, she still trusted him even though hope faded more day by day.

Turning her attention back to the com unit, Jynx saw herself get her bound hands on a gun that in real life she wouldn’t know how to shoot. Roberts pulled a gleaming pistol from under her smartly tailored jacket and shot a hole in her doppelganger’s heart. The fake Jynx slumped to the floor as screaming spectators scrambled to get out of the way.

Nausea clutched her belly hard, and she fought down an urge to hurl her lunch all over Roberts. Who had they killed in her place? Another innocent life lost, more blood on her hands. How could she not feel responsible?

“Not many get to see their own death. Did you enjoy yours?”

Jynx didn’t say a word. In slow motion, they played the vid again as shocked commentators spewed stunned words. Flicking the mute button, Roberts turned.

“Didn’t you like it? Looked real enough to me.”

Far too real, but to what end? “Who did you kill in my place?”

Roberts smiled proudly. “Some dedicated IWOG officer who thought it was a dry run. She willingly had her face changed to match yours. They didn’t get the eyes right, but that hardly matters. The evil menace has been destroyed. By me.” Roberts lifted her finger like a gun and blew across the tip. “I’m a hero. Celebrations are already starting. I’m due to receive a valor award in a few hours on Banna.” Roberts preened with malicious joy. “In a few days, the people will forget all about you as they focus on me. Once I get your baby, you really will die. Not like that, of course. More of a private ceremony. At the moment, only I and a handful of very trusted people know you’re actually still alive. Once I move you from here, no one but me will know.”

“You’ll kill all the others involved.” The horrifying insight made Jynx’s belly roll. Just the thought of more death because of Roberts’s sick plans made her want to vomit.

“Sacrificed for the greater good.”

Jynx didn’t react outwardly. She met Roberts’s cool powder-blue eyes with bored indifference. Foster’s eyes, from summer sky to laser bright to that wicked azure blue, flashed suddenly to her mind. Roberts’s blue eyes were nothing like his. Not in color or depth. Where Foster had innocence swimming in shark-infested waters, Roberts had nothing but sharks.

Survival instinct made Jynx try to slip her mind to Roberts, who instantly slapped Jynx across the face, breaking the tentative connection. Furious, Roberts wrapped her hands around Jynx’s throat and squeezed with amazing strength.

“You try that again and you’ll spend the rest of your pregnancy in a drug coma!”

Pushing Roberts’s hands away with a jolt of adrenaline, Jynx maneuvered herself right off the bed. “I won’t.” God, no, she wouldn’t do it again. Seemingly bigger than the emptiness of space, Jynx touched a mind so utterly devoid of compassion, the brief contact hurt.

Trying to shake the repulsive essence of that sick mind out of hers, Jynx put an image Foster in her head. She remembered the tart and tangy taste of that beer she’d shared with him, the taste of his mouth, the taste of his sweat. Remembering Foster helped to push the nasty flavor of Roberts away.

Jynx looked up from where she sat on the floor beside the bunk.

Roberts stood and brushed nonexistent lint off her beautifully tailored ruby red suit. The color matched her lips and nails. Pulling a sleek compact from her purse, Roberts flipped it open, patted her hair, then applied another coat of lipstick.

Kissing at her own reflection, Roberts studied herself as she said, “Of course, we won’t start experimenting until your little brat is at least three, but by then, you will be long gone.”

Jynx refused to show her gut-wrenching fear. Roberts would only take sick pleasure in it, and Jynx refused to feed that gaping, thoroughly insatiable hole in Roberts’s psyche. Jynx could taste her wanting a feeding so badly, she almost shook with a need to make Jynx react. Roberts was just playing with her because she had nothing else to do while she awaited recognition for her crowning achievement.

Ignoring her, Jynx climbed back on the bunk and kept her attention on the small com unit.

“I noticed your eyes when Nash said he slept with me. It bothered you, didn’t it?”

Jynx laughed at her swift change in topic. “You mean when he said, ‘Sweet. Tight. Way better than you’? No, that didn’t bother me.” Jynx picked up the remote and flipped channels until she came across an old vid feed of Foster, preening, strutting and fondling her body as he led her to custody. “After that display”—she pointed to the screen—“do you really think I should feel bad that he used you too?”

Roberts bristled. “He is a man most impressed with himself.” She plucked the remote from Jynx’s hand and switched the com unit off. “Money seems to satisfy him.” After tossing the remote aside, she asked, “What did you think of him, in bed, I mean?”

“I’m not interested in comparing notes.”

A strange glow filled Victoria’s eyes. “Too bad you’re not carrying his kid. I’d love to have something like that over him.”

“Why? So you could hurt him the way he hurt you?”

Roberts gave a snort of derision and rolled her eyes. “Nash didn’t hurt me. He practically fucked my eyes loose, but he didn’t hurt me. I liked it. I’ll bet you did too. He’s an animal in bed, isn’t he?”

Roberts wanted Jynx to recoil at the vulgarity, but she didn’t. “How could Mr. Nash hurt you? Sociopaths don’t get hurt because they don’t have feelings.”

Lifting her face with a slow smirk, Roberts placed her manicured hand under Jynx’s chin. “That’s right. I’m a sociopath. I’m actually going to do everything I accused you of. Even as we speak, the delivery system you and Brandt created is being refined to deliver inoculate
and
virus.” Checking her crimson polish with a critical eye, Roberts smiled. “You clueless fool. You trusted him, didn’t you?”

“Mr. Nash? No. You did.”

“Why do you keep calling him that?”

“Because that’s what he asked me to call him.”

“You are so pathetic, and I never trusted him.”

“Yes, you did, because just as the contract bound him, it bound you too. You had to trust in his reputation.”

“So what?” Roberts dismissed the entire idea. “I’ll give Nash this much, he’s one smart cookie. Holding you back and forcing my hand for more money…” She shrugged. “But the money doesn’t matter, because the end result is the same. He brought you to me.”

“And, thanks to you, I’m dead to the Void.”

“Yes.” Victoria uttered a self-satisfied purr. “Killing you has made me a hero, but with your child, I can go even higher than I am now.”

“And where will you say he or she came from? Are you going to pass him or her off as your own?” Jynx swore that one way or another, her child would never spend so much as a second in this woman’s self-serving arms.

“Hmm.” She clicked her tongue to her teeth. “I think I will say the brat was a foundling. Perhaps left behind in a WAG hospital on some backwater Fringe planet.”

“How is that going to work if you spread the Tyaa plague around?”

“Don’t be daft. I’m not going to take out everyone in the universe. I’m going to take out a few key planets, those we need to civilize to keep a solid foothold. And contrary to what you think, it isn’t going to happen overnight. It will take years of meticulous planning to carry this off.”