“… I still don’t see why you couldn’t have told me from the start that you were a goddamn inquisitor!”
The revelation that I had been working for the Chapterhouse had been, shall we say, something of a shock to Kyndi.
“… or months ago. Here I am, been telling you about smuggling jobs this entire goddamn time, getting wasted on O-head right in front of your face, and you’ve been a cop all along?”
We were both in my Vulture, the Hand of Blue, descending toward the surface of Durius Prime. Kyndi had showed up in a Diamondback Explorer with only a single seat. As a chivalrous gesture, I had offered her the systems deck seat that sat behind the commander’s chair in the Vulture. Being that she had yet to shut the hell up about the fact that I was working for the inquisition, I found myself regretting my offer.
“… I mean, is this some kind of twofer for you? Rescue a little girl and pad the dossier on Kyndi the Badass Smuggler Chick? Are you going to give some kind of signal for Authority to arrest my ass the moment we’re finished with your noble little side quest? Because that would be some bullshit.“
Not even the rumble of reentry had caused her to shut up. If anything, she became even more annoying, because I was trying to see through the flame-engulfed canopy and wasn’t used to the distraction. The ship’s computer sensed the re-entry noise, and jacked up the comm volume so that I could still hear every word Kyndi was saying.
“I mean, yeah, I totally threw you under the bus when we first met, but that was a long time ago! And we settled it later, after you stalked me all over Novitski like some creepo, right?! I’ve just done so much shit right in front of you!”
Breaking out of upper atmo, I could see the rolling plains of a world just barely terraformed enough to not need a breather. Grassy fields mixed with brownish, barren expanses. This was it, alright. Given where I had entered the atmosphere, New Township should just be coming into view. Just a few more hills…
“…I mean, you’ve got me on smuggling, theft, assault, hacking, destruction of property…”
Hmm, still no sign of the settlement. Maybe Kyndi’s constant braying had caused me to come in a few hundred clicks off? I’m not the best at atmo flight, but it really should be in visual by now…
“… and even if you weren’t a cop, you’re still a goddamn bounty hunter! I mean, I’m good, but even I get scanned sometimes! I’ve got bounties all over the ‘verse! I’m a walking payday for a guy like you!…”
There. That was it. New Township was just as I remembered it- a spread-out collection of pre-fab buildings and shelters, couldn’t have supported more than one or two thousand people. No landing beacon, of course, or I’d have picked it up from orbit. No landing pads. A few dirt roads leading… somewhere. Lots of personal ground transports and heavy trucks, but none driving around. No real street grid, just the pathways that got worn in between the buildings as people and vehicles went by. Well, I’m sure there’s nothing special about that grassy field next to town that will stop me from landing there.
“… so that’s it. I must be the stupidest woman in the ‘verse, hooking up with some guy who’s not just a bounty hunter, but a bounty hunter who works for the Empire’s biggest hard-ass when it comes to making some scratch outside the law! That’s it, isn’t it? You think I’m an idiot. I am an idiot. I bet you’re going to-“
“Kyndi?”
I felt the familiar bump of setting down on a planet.
“What?”
I heard the engines winding down. I started powering down the Hand of Blue, placing her on stand-bye.
“Shut up. We’re here.”
If you’ve been freelancing long enough, you learn the importance of blending in wherever you go. It’s usually the Sidewinder-flying new-jacks who stroll into the bar still wearing their flight suits, strutting around like they own the damn place. If you take ten pilots in a room and line them all up, the last one you ever want to dogfight is the unshaven, nondescript guy with the sleepy look. Chances are, he’s the type to have the smiling, fresh-faced rookies for breakfast.
I knew this rule. Kyndi knew it, to a degree (though it’s hard for a woman with purple-tinted hair to truly blend in at a shithole like this). Before we went moseying along Main Street in a strange town, we both went back into my stateroom to change. Judging from the looks of the place, it just didn’t seem like a flightsuity-kind of locale.
So, I opted for something simple. Trousers, button-down shirt, boots, and a beat-up duster to conceal my pistol. I don’t go cowboy very often, but when I do, it’s usually better that nobody knows I’m packing except me.
Kyndi, well- she was Kyndi. She changed into lady-slacks, a leather jacket, and made zero effort to conceal the fact that she was packing. It was about as plain as I had ever seen her.
“You ready to do this?”
Kyndi looked me up and down.
“You paid money for that getup, or is there a cowhand running around in his skivvies somewhere?”
Town was about what we expected. Not fully terraformed, so it was pretty chilly, even for it being a sunny day. Dirty, unnamed, winding streets. Handfuls of people shuffled around Kyndi and me as we walked, but no one greeted us. Not many people even looked at us.
Kyndi grabbed my arm.
“Ten minutes in this hole, and I think I already need a drink.”
I looked around. The buildings formed a central cluster in what seemed like the town center. One of the larger prefabs had a few partially burnt-out neon signs of some of the more common brands of alcohol.
“I hear you on that. But we‘ve got a job to do.”
I started to walk off. Kyndi gripped my arm a little firmer, and started steering me towards the bar.
“You ain’t gettin’ me. We need a drink.”
So, I let her lead me into the bar. It was dingy, dark, and smelled like the owners had a very laisses-faire attitude towards housekeeping. Still, there were dozen or so hunched-over figures at the tables, despite it being 10:00 AM locally. At least they were a courteous lot, with only a few grimy lowlifes following us with their eyes as we made our way to the counter. We sat down and settled in on the stools.
A swarthy, middle-aged bartender lumbered up.
“G’morning, strangers. Welcome to New Township. I’m Earl, and this here’s my place, The Duke. Ain’t no sign since the last real bad windstorm carried ‘er away, but the food and drinks stayed put. The hell brings you two out here?”
Kyndi leaned in.
“Heard about the legendary hot wings. We’re here to try ‘em out. Ain’t we, Jack?”
Jack? That’s my name? I smiled and nodded my agreement.
Earl looked amused.
“Hot wings, eh? We ain’t had a shipment of spices or bona-fide meat in two, no-three?- seasons. Out here, it’s all grain and beans when it ain’t synth. Taters, too. What can I get you both? Menu ain’t what you’re used to on any of them big fancy stations, but Gertie in back whips up some fine grits.”
Kyndi turned to me, pulling a pouty face.
“No hot wings, honey! And we came all the way here!”
I tried my best to smile at the large, greasy man in front of us.
“A plate of taters sounds just fine, thanks. For two. How’re you fixed for liquids?”
Earl leaned over and produced two dented cans of Back-Up Steel.
“’Fraid this is all we’ve got, partner. Tastes like shit, but it’ll get you dizzy. Try to finish ‘em while they’re cold.”
I raised my can to the man. Even fresh out of the cooler, it wasn’t very cold.
“Appreciate it.”
Earl disappeared to the kitchen, right behind the front counter. Even with a wall between us, we could hear him yelling for some unfortunate soul- Gertie, probably- to warm up the grill, because a couple of hungry off-worlders were at the bar. A husky woman’s voice told him to warm it up his own damn self, because her show wasn’t over yet. Gotta love those mom-and-pop places.
Kyndi cracked her Back-Up open and took a swig. Her face immediately soured.
“The hell is this goat-piss?” she said under her breath.
I took a drink of my own.
“This, Kyndi, is Back-Up Steel. It’s what the desperate and the college-attending drink to get the most drunk for their credits. Can’t even call it ‘beer’, not legally. It’s some kind of malt beverage. It ain’t so bad if you’re already plowed. ”
She stared at her can contemptuously.
“I wouldn’t drink one of these for a full hold of palladium.”
I clinked my can against hers. It made a dull, metallic sound.
“I wouldn’t, either, but you were making all that noise earlier about a finding a bar- and here we are, drinks in hand, asses warming a couple of bar stools.
So, you want to tell me what that was all about?”
Kyndi looked back over her shoulder. No one had moved. Even the men who looked like they hadn’t seen a woman in ten years weren’t looking at Kyndi any longer. She leaned in close, speaking almost in a whisper.
“What are we doing here, Matt?”
I took another sip. Goddamnit. The rancid drink in my hand was already getting lukewarm.
“Trying the famous hot wings. What are you getting at?”
She looked over her shoulder again.
“Well, we walked through half the town before we got here. Even with everybody coming and going, I didn’t see a single damn kid. Did you?”
Goddamnit. Given that I was here looking for a kid, I sure wasn’t looking very hard for a kid.
“Point of fact, no. I didn’t. What of it?”
Earl emerged from the kitchen and lumbered back up Kyndi and me, a plate of steaming food in both hands. He set them down in front of us. The potatoes were diced, and actually smelled…. good.
“Here you go, friends… fresh off the grill! Gertie even managed to rustle up some rosemary and garlic salt. Ain’t every day New Township gets some fresh blood landing nearby in a fancy spaceship. Even if they are a little late for them hot wings.”
With a twinkle in his eye, Earl left us alone. Kyndi eyed him until he was out of earshot. She leaned over to me.
“This ain’t no place for kids. Ain’t got a school, facilities, decent roads, law, post office- nothing. You don’t raise a family here. You come here to, I don’t know- dig through mud and fry potatoes. But whoever this man and his little girl were, they weren’t from here.”
I thought about what she said over a few more bites of potatoes. I didn’t know how Kyndi figured that one of these dirty old prefabs wasn’t a school, but I didn’t want to question her methods.
“Ok, so what now?”
Kyndi smirked her Kyndi smirk. “Just watch, Matty.”
She raised her can of Back-Up Steel to Earl. “These are some fine taters, Earl! You give Gertie a hug and kiss for us!”
Earl’s face contorted into a lopsided smile. He lumbered back up to us.
“Glad you like ‘em so much, miss. Grown local, too. Taters are about the only thing the soil here can handle, what with the terraforming not holding up like it should.”
Even with the howdy-doo smile on his face, I could tell that there was something going on in that head of his. Earl was a backwater greaseball alright, but he wasn’t a stupid one. Not from the look he was giving us.
Kyndi nodded, and smiled slightly. “So, I saw on GalNet that shit really went down here about a year back. That must have been something, huh?”
Earl licked his lips, and looked hesitant to answer. His gaze hardened just a little.
“That it did, friend. That it did. Don’t go around asking about it, though. It’s a real sore subject for most folks around here. New Township’s just an overgrown man-camp. If there wasn’t that boron mine about ten clicks away, ain’t nobody would even be here. Not even for the famous wings.”
Kyndi leaned in.
“We heard that you got ransacked pretty good by Patreus. This whole system is pretty much in his pocket, ain’t it?”
Earl bristled a bit when she said that.
“I reckon it is, ma’am, but it wasn’t always that way. I’ve been here since New Township really was new, and we had a good thing going for a little bit. But you know it goes: someone scratches a little something out for themselves, and trouble comes out of the woodwork to take it all away.”
The swarthy bartender looked around, and leaned in close.
“System authority barely had enough credits to run the operations it had going, much less pay a bunch of high-falootin’ bounty hunters to come out here and chase away the scum that was setting up shop. They was good people, too, for being politicians. Did they best they could, had roots here in Durius. I don’t hold it against them, what happened.”
Kyndi eyed him inquisitively. “So what did happen, Earl?”
The bartender took a good, long look around The Duke before answering,
“An offer they couldn’t refuse. That Patreus fella’s representative showed up in his big, fancy starship after it started getting’ real bad. Ain’t nobody had ever seen one like it except in holovids. Fink, his name was. Albert Fink. He shuttled the mayors and the magistrates onboard that ship and offered them all a whiff of the silver spoon that was stuck up his ass.”
Earl looked around some more, and continued:
“At the time, we was hurtin’ pretty bad. Ain’t a shipment could leave this place without getting nailed. We even started seeing gangs hitting the surface settlements. Then, along comes a spaceship that looks like it could swat them all from space on quarter power, with some silver-tongued, rose pedal-smelling asshole from the core promising to loan us enough money and arms to invade the next goddamn system if we wanted.”
By now, Earl was taking sips of his own from a can of Back-Up Steel.
“Well, we mudfolk were counting on the local authority to get us out of the mess somehow, and the way they figured, taking that senator’s deal was their best shot at solving the crime problem. What are you going to do? So they agreed to Patreus’s terms. I think you both know what happened next.”
I took a sip of my own. “Pretend we don’t.”
He shrugged.
“Well, they did what they said they would do, I’ll give them that. Next thing you know, you’ve got ground troops in every settlement, driving out the rascals and re-establishing law and order. Same thing up in space, too. I guess Denton pulled out the big guns- fleet, bounty hunters, anything to make the problem go away pronto. And it did. For a week or so, the man and his soldiers were goddamn heroes.”
A customer raised his glass for another drink. Earl got it for him and then returned.
“After that, things got rough in a hurry. Now, Authority was sitting on top of a pile of used weapons that they had bought from Denton, purchased using money that Denton had loaned them. You know that old saying about weapons being like a stick of bubble gun- you don’t want it back once you’ve let someone borrow it. Well, next month after that, Denton’s rep- who was now calling himself viceroy-like he was the damn appointed ruler- started making noise about the system repaying its debt to Patreus.”
He took another drink, a long one.
“Authority did what it could. They sold off the ships and the guns bought from Patreus, for stupidly low prices. It was all they could get for ‘em. Even after selling hundreds of ships, it only got us through about a year of payments. Then, when that ran out, the viceroy prodded them to pass a slew of emergency taxes in counsel. I don’t know how they do it in the core, but around here, you can raise taxes all you want- but it don’t mean jack there if ain’t nothing to tax. We never had much to begin with, and it wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t enough.”
Another long drink, and then Earl threw away the can and cracked open another.
“Pretty soon, the case went to sector court. We figured it would take years to sort out, what with how slow they are, but within two months, some Imperial judge had issued an order granting Denton the rights to the entire goddamn system. Wouldn’t let it declare bankruptcy. Didn’t even give our magistrates a hearing. He had them argue in front of a damn clerk with a recording device. ‘He’d review our case later’, we were told.”
By now, Earl was sitting across from us, on a stool that he had grabbed.
“After that, Denton’s people came back. Only it was different. He didn’t show up with the gleaming white Imperial navy. This time, he threw an army of goddamn hired goons at us. They took everything- vehicles, industrial equipment, cash that people had stashed away. They showed up at the courthouses and forced the local magistrates to change the records of every privately owned claim in the system over to Denton’s organization.”
Kyndi had been staring intently. “What then, Earl?”
“What then, sweet cheeks? I’ll tell you what then. Then, this viceroy- Fink, he was called. Albert Fink, may he rest in hell, decided that the planet didn’t have enough material property to satisfy the debt. So he started ordering something I ain’t never even heard of before. He issued a decree that the system’s debt was the responsibility of every man, woman, and child. If a person couldn’t pay in money, they would have to pay by other means. You two know what that meant, right?”
I met his gaze. Damn right I do. I was there.
“Slavery.”
He nodded.
“Yeah, slavery. But not the way it’s supposed to be. This wasn’t voluntary, and it wasn’t to settle a personal debt that someone had taken on themselves. No, this was imposed from on high. Pretty soon, this viceroy started sending his goons to round up people with nothing of value. They would go around, personal tablets in hand, pre-made slavery contracts already pulled up. That made everything nice and legal. ‘Voluntary’, you know? Except that the way they did it, you signed, or got a free stay at a prison camp away from your family. The only way you got out is if one of them volunteered in your spot and signed their own slavery deal. People all over the planet got taken that way.”
Kyndi looked astonished. “But how did all that happen? Didn’t anyone do anything? Appeal to sector court or something?”
Earl nodded, a grave look on his face.
“Yeah miss, they did. A lot of people, in fact. Sector court was just as useless as before, no dice there. So folks turned to armed resistance. Farmers, miners- their families too. All that accomplished- other than a pile of dead farmers and miners- was to give the viceroy even more of an excuse to go after us. And that he did. He expanded his operation from the hubs to the entire planet. I even saw New Township get turned into a little departure area. All this flat tundra around makes for good landing spots, since the planet ain’t got very many real ones. A lot of people passed through here, in cuffs and heading God-knows-where. Worst days this town has ever seen.”
After that, he was silent for a few minutes, just staring down at his half-drank can of Back-Up. Then, he looked up at Kyndi and me.
“Where’d you say you were from again? I’ve blabbed more to you two strangers this morning than I have at Gertie in a damn month. And about the occupation, too. I never talk about that. So, what are you two after? And don’t say chicken wings.”
I looked him in the eye. In truth, I was hoping the Kyndi would say something, but she didn’t. It was now-or-never time.
“Well, we ain’t from around here, you got that one right. And yeah, we’ve got an interest in what happened, but we ain’t journalists or nothing.”
I took the last sip out of my now completely rancid Back-Up Steel.
“But we weren’t fibbing about the chicken wings, Earl. In fact, I’m after one little wing in particular. Little one, about five or six, got separated from her pa the last day of the occupation. Never caught a name on either, but they shipped him away and left her to wander the streets. After he got loaded up in the pod, Denton’s men announced to everyone nearby that it was a crime to help her, her father being a traitor and all.”
Before, Earl had been curious, and then embarrassed at how forthcoming he had been with two strangers about a touchy subject. Now, he looked flat-out disturbed. After a moment, he looked up, and said just a little loudly:
“Well, if a couple of off-worlders are going to visit The Duke, I say that they’re entitled to the tour. C’mon, friends, let me show you around!”
With that, he grunted his way to his feet, and ambled over from behind the bar to usher us into the kitchen. It was small for all three of us to be in, but not uncomfortably so. A frumpy, glum-looking woman entered from the rear door and put her hands on her hips.
“Earl, you know I don’t even like you coming back here to my kitchen, so you’d best tell me why a pair of off-world city-slickers are casting shadows in it- now!”
She turned to us-
“No offense to you two. It’s just that Earl don’t always listen-“
He help up is hands- “Gertie…”
She turned to Kyndi, “You need to get this one trained before the children start to show up. He’s cute, but he’s got a shifty look to him.”
Kyndi’s mouth dropped- “Oh, no, we aren’t-“
I chimed in at the same time, too- “Shifty? Who’s shifty-looking?”
Earl stepped in the middle of all of us and yelled “Gertie! ENOUGH!”
It was the loudest we had heard him speak. It was also probably the loudest that Gertie had heard him speak in a long time, because she immediately turned and stared at him in astonishment.
Earl took a deep breath, and resumed in his normal, softer-voice.
“They’re here asking about Katie. I don’t know why, but this one-“ he jerked his thumb at me- “seems to know exactly what happened when she got left. Like he was there, ok?”
Gertie opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but just stared really hard at me instead. Earl continued-
“And he ain’t said what he wants with her, but you know that something is better than nothing.”
I raised my head- “What do you mean, ‘something is better than nothing’? Better than what, exactly? What ain’t you telling me?”
Earl and Gertie both looked at each other and frowned. He walked up and put his hand on the shoulder of my duster.
“I think you’d better sit down, partner. Mr., uh, Jack? And you are-?”… he looked towards Kyndi.
“Jill”, she replied cooly.
Earl nodded, understanding. “Jill… right. Listen- I think it would be best if we sat down for a bit. Gertie, could you take them upstairs? I’m going to grab someone to watch the bar.”
As we went upstairs, Gertie turned to us and asked “So did you like the taters? Warmed up the grill just for you, you know.”
I patted my stomach. “Ate every bite, ma’am. And I appreciate you breaking out the garlic and rosemary for us.”
Gertie rolled her eyes and opened the door. “That’s how I make all my fried taters. Earl’s been giving you two the out-of-towner treatment, I see. New Township is a shithole, but it ain’t that big of a shithole.”
Upstairs wasn’t much. A tiny personal kitchen led into an equally tiny living room. The furniture was old, the woodwork was warped and needed dusting, and even their holovision was antiquated. She gestured for Kyndi and I to sit down on an old, beat-up sofa. She settled down on an armchair, and Earl walked in, grabbed a kitchen chair and a sat down on it. In his hands were three imported ales. He handed one to me, one to Kyndi, and popped the third one open for himself. Good brand from Federation space, and they were ice-cold.
“This here’s the good stuff. I almost feel bad for serving you that goat piss downstairs.”
I raised my bottle. “Told you”, Kyndi whispered.
“Appreciate it, Earl, but I didn’t come up here to drink your best beer. You mentioned the girl. Katie. I’m in need of her whereabouts something fierce.”
He didn’t answer, just looked worriedly at Gertie, and then back to me.
“Well, I still don’t know your game, Jack. All I know is, you and your ladyfriend here are two city slickers who just landed in a fancy black spaceship, dressed like you’re trying to slum it with us yokels. Now, I ain’t never seen you before, and I ain’t heard of nobody like you on any of the other settlements. Katie’s whole family lived on-world, so I know you ain’t kin to her. So, yeah, I know who you’re talking about, but Gertie and I need to know what that little tyke is to you before we say a word.”
With that, he leaned back.
And Gertie came unglued.
“Earl Eugene Walters… I swear that if you don’t help these kids out, I will sell this bar from under you to the first mudder with a hundred credits! You oughta listen to yourself! ‘What’s your game’, my child-rearing fanny! You sound like you’re trying to be in one those stupid holovids you like to watch late at night instead of keeping your wife warm in bed!”
She turned to us, eyes tearing up.
“She got taken! Not by the senator’s men, and not by local ‘thority! She…Katie… was taken… by them! The Kumos!”
Earl started to reach out to comfort his wife, “Gertie, Gertie, there was nothing-“
”NO, Earl! She was safe here! That first week, after those thugs left, and everyone else in town was too shit scared to help out a crying, scared little girl who was still wailing for her papa, still in that same spot where that ship left, folk just walking by for an entire week– and then you brought her upstairs and gave her her first hot meal in God-knows how long and told her that she didn’t have to be scared anymore! I was never more proud to call you my husband! Even when our so-called ‘friends’ tried to get you to throw her out, ‘cause they were scared that some gang was of Denton’s thugs would return on account of some little girl having a roof over her head. Hell. You remember what you did? You told ‘em, ‘get the hell out of my bar, you pea-wit assholes!’”
By now, she was sobbing.
“You took a shuttle up to Pimi and bought her clothes, and toys, and spent two whole days fixing up the spare room for her. Goddamnit Earl, you’re scared to death of flying, but you did it for her! She never spoke two words, never looked people in the eye- the poor dear had been through so much and was surrounded by strangers, but she was safe! Months and months she lived with us, opening up in little ways… then the raiding party came while she out playing, and she was only thing worth stealing from New Township, and they took her, along with a month’s worth of boron from the mine! And now there’s a couple here tryin’ to fetch her, and you’re playing games? Help them!”
Jesus Christ.
Earl hadn’t said a word through Gertie’s entire bout of pleading. Now he just sat in his chair, defeated, his mouth opening and closing a few time, like he was trying to find the words.
Finally, with tears in his eyes, he looked up- at us, and his wife-
“I, I never… it was a warm day, and you know how rare those are around here, and she was playing in a field, and I thought it would do her some good, you know? And it had to be that day, it had to be, because Patreus had just started his shit with the Kumos, and they were raiding all over the sector, but I never thought they’d hit New Township… they were here for the ore, but little tykes sell well on the market, so they… they just robbed everybody else, since a bunch of old, broken down minors ain’t worth the time to round up. But they took her, and I couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it. She was outside, and it was a nice day, and that… that’s just when they came, and I couldn’t, I couldn’t… I couldn’t…”
I hadn’t noticed it it, but Kyndi had been squeezing my hand with hers for a long time. She hadn’t said a damn thing since we sat down on the couch, just stared ahead at the sobbing, frumpy couple in front of us. Her jaw was clenched, and her mouth was shut, breathing strained, and I couldn’t even tell – was she angry? Holding something in?
Jesus Christ, Matt. What have you gotten yourself into?
I looked outside the window, staring past the town to the rolling tundra beyond. It was only too easy to imagine a score of red and black-painted ships setting down.
And now the Goddamn Kumo Crew is involved.
The flight back up to Pimi was as quiet and somber as the ride down had been talkative and annoying. Kyndi and I were back at square one. Actually, no- square one would have been an improvement. We were twisting in the wind, rudderless, directionless, with our choices being admitting failure on the one hand, or walking into the lion’s den on the other.
Katie- her name is Katie. I know her name now, at least– could literally be anywhere in the ‘verse. She could be somewhere in Pegasi, held in captivity by some pirate lord. She might have been immediately re-sold to slavers, who would have taken her God-knows-where. She might be pushing a cart full of ore in a mine, or working in a textile mill on some border world. Maybe she died on board one of their ships, at the hands of an overzealous bounty hunter who detected a bounty and opened fire.
Someone like me.
There were a thousand possibilities as to where Katie might be, and none of them made me feel better about my chances of ever finding her. Even if we knew her location, and even if we could slip in among the Kumos, and even if we could pluck out one slave among thousands… where did that leave us?
I had made a career out of hunting down scum like the Kumo Crew. I had killed dozens of them. Even with the best masking tech that money could buy, there was still the chance of a detailed enough scan giving me away… and then I’d be a dead man. Kyndi would be a dead woman. And Katie would still be in whatever situation she was in now.
We didn’t even go anywhere after getting back to Pimi station. We just locked ourselves in the rented room for days, pouring over star charts and likely possibilities. We wracked our brains for clues, for intel, for any idea that could help. Everything came up short, and even the best-placed contacts of Kyndi’s smuggling network just shrugged and shook their heads when asked how one could track down a specific person kidnapped by the Kumo Crew.
And then there was Kyndi herself. Something about this job had been gnawing on her, and it had only gotten worse since New Township. Things were… different between us. Not that a job this personal was ever going to be an excuse to try for a free romp or two to begin with, but when we slept, we slept in our ships. Or one on the bed, and one on the couch. Or in shifts. Anything, but next to each other. It wasn’t about keeping it professional on the job, not really. It didn’t even feel like rejection.
It was more like she was… withdrawing, living more and more in her head, wrestling with something that she wasn’t ready to talk about. She wasn’t eating much, nor did she sleep for more than a few hours without getting up to stare out the viewport. The first night she did that, I tried to comfort her, put my arms around her, anything to show that I cared. She pushed me away and disappeared until morning. There was something inside her, buried underneath years of bravado and hedonism, that was eating its way to the surface. She was afraid of it, and I was afraid of any secret that could make a woman like Kyndi lose her touch.
After a week of fruitless planning and inquiring, I woke up on the couch, feeling like hell. Kyndi wasn’t there, which wasn’t a big surprise at this point. What was a surprise was the little handwritten note on the coffee table. Still groggy, I reached out, picked it up, and unfolded it:
I’m sorry.
-K
Under the note was a credit chip, loaded with one-hundred thousand credits. Looking around, there were none of Kyndi’s belongings in the room. Her clothes were gone from the dresser, and her room key was now next to mine on the nightstand.
Son of a bitch.
I collapsed onto the couch. For the first time since… leaving home for the navy recruitment depot?… I was alone. Not freedom-to-do-what-you-want alone, but alone.
In my misery, I felt closer to Katie than I ever had before. No, I thought. You don’t get to think that. She was a little girl, surrounded by the worst specimens of humanity and likely delirious with fear. I was a grown man, in a clean, safe room. She was six-year-old child who saw the world in terms of heroes and monsters; I was a freelance bounty hunter and professional slayer of monsters.
But I was still afraid.
And I was just as lost as she was.
There was no way in the ‘verse that I could find her on my own. My partner had just jetpacked out of the job, and I was on my own from here on out. I couldn’t do it- not as a bounty hunter, not as an inquisitor, not as a man trying to do right by a little girl he had wronged. To pull this off, I was going to have to leave it all behind. I had to leave myself behind. The time for subtlety was past. Cleverness wasn’t going to find Katie, nor was stealth. The way to finding her was as absolute as it was dark.
To rescue Katie from the monsters, I would have to become one.
The Reaper Diaries 