Daughter of Shadows, page 13
“Thanks. If you find him, can you make sure he stays around until I can catch up with him?”
“Sure.”
When Tom Mix asked some of the regular Laughing Mountain Portal Runners where he could find Jack Stevens, they were less than cooperative. He sighed inwardly; he knew his reputation as a ruthless enforcer of the secret of the Portal would work against him, When the fourth Runner asked, “Why do you want to see him?”
Mix frowned, he was going to need to give a reason that wouldn’t cause them to think he planned to take Stevens out. “He might have some information about something that went down on Shangri-La.”
“Oh,” the runner, an older woman with cropped white hair, studied him thoughtfully.
“He buys a lot of his stuff from a fence in San Demos called Jake’s Pawn Shop. Jake might know where to find him.”
“What did he do, anyway?”
Mix shrugged. “My sources tell me he has contacts with the Silent Insurgence. Earth-Gov’s security forces keep the Insurgence on their radar. I’m concerned they might be sharing information with the Portal Authority.”
“That isn’t good.”
Contrary to popular speculation, Mix didn’t intend to do anything permanent to remove Stevens when he finally ran the man to earth near the pawnshop in San Demos. Stevens was nothing remarkable to look at; he was of average height with dark hair and a friendly disposition. By contrast, Mix, with his deliberately sloppy clothes, coke bottle glasses and fusty mannerisms practically screamed he was an antiquarian hobbyist.
“Buy you a cup of coffee?” Mix offered.
Stevens hesitated before he said, “Sure. That place across the street serves a pretty good brew.”
The two men placed their orders at the counter and found seats at a table in the rear.
“You’re a hard man to track down,” Mix said, stirring sugar into his cup.
Stevens shrugged. “I just move around a lot. Why were you looking for me?”
“What can you tell me about the Silent Insurgence?”
“Why ask me?” Stevens asked, his eyes wary.
“I hear you have contacts with them,” Mix replied. If possible, Stevens looked even more wary.
“I used to know a couple of them back in the day. Why?”
“Have any of them approached you recently asking about the Outlawed Colonies?”
Stevens shook his head. “No, they haven’t.”
Lie, Mix thought. One of the things that made Mix so dangerous was he was slightly Empathic; he always knew when someone was lying to him. “You sure about that?” he asked softly.
Stevens glared at him. “Hell yes, I’m sure. What’s it to you anyway?”
Mix gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just naturally nosy, I guess.”
When he left the coffee shop, He commed the two men parked down the street. “When he leaves, follow him. I want to know where he goes and who he contacts.”
Knowing he could safely leave matters in their competent hands, Mix headed back to the Brenden Estate.
Several hours later, Mix got a com from one of the trailers.
“Boss, we’ve got a problem,”
Mix sat up. “What kind of problem?”
“First thing he did when he was out of town was pull over and com someone.”
“We need a look at his com. Pick him up.”
When the Hawkins twins arrived with Stevens in tow, he was a little worse for wear; he had a swelling bruise on his cheek, and the beginnings of a black eye.
Jim Hawkins thrust him into a chair, “Stay there,”
“We had his vehicle towed,” his twin Jason said. The Hawkins twins were big bruisers with light brown hair. Like Mix, they were originally from St. Antoni.
“Were you seen?”
“No, boss,” Jim said.
Mix nodded. The Hawkins twins were experienced in capturing people—if they said they weren’t seen he believed them,
“Where’s his com?’
“Right here boss,” Jason held up an expensive wrist com.
“Take it to Devon Morton and tell him we need it decrypted. He’s been briefed on what’s going on.”
“What about him?” Jim gestured at Stevens.
“Give him a dose of Rohypnol and stash him in the safe room.”
Jim looked at Stevens. “You coming willingly, or do I need to drag you?”
Stevens stood up. “I’ll go, but there’s no need to drug me.”
Mix looked up from his tablet. “Do yourself a favor and take your medicine. It will be a lot less painful than making us force feed it to you.”
He met Mix’s eyes for a second before he dropped his own. He knew he would take the Rohypnol.
It was several days later when Devon Commed him. “Mix, I think you’d better come here to listen to some of this. I don’t want to put it out over the air.”
“I’ll be there this afternoon. Will that work for you?”
Yes. I’ll let Lacey and Commander Sullivan know about it. That way you can all hear it at once.”
Mix liked Laughing Mountain, probably because it always reminded him of his home in Gateway City on St. Antoni. It was a quaint looking town, with old-fashioned streetlights, and sidewalks overhung by large, shaded eaves.
There were differences: Gateway City’s streets teemed with Tricorn drawn carriages and wagons, which competed for space with the rickshaws, saddled tricorns and pedestrians while the main throughfare in Laughing Mountain had pedestrians, golf carts and vehicles, even a few airsleds.
He stepped outside his vehicle in front of the office shared by Devon Morton and Jase Delaney and took a deep breath. Earth just smelled different than St. Antoni—probably due to the pollutants that still clogged Earth’s atmosphere. Even this high up volcano ash from the many eruptions could still drift in.
In addition to Lacey and her husband, Jase and his fiancée Tam were there. Jase was a tall, lanky man with the ropy muscles of a man who used the gym for strength training rather than body building. Tam and Tash were part of a set of Identical triplets—their sister Tally had married Liam Brendan and emigrated to St. Antoni,
Mix had had more contact with Tash since she had taken over Tally’s duties as Liaison to the colonies after she married. He had seldom had any occasion to socialize with Tam, who he knew was studying to become an attorney.
Once everyone was seated, and Tash had handed around coffee cups, Devon stood and handed around several sets of plastia to everyone. “This is a copy of the dialog between Stevens and someone I assume is from the Insurgence. Take your time and read it. I’m still downloading transcripts, but I think these will be enough to decide what to do with him.”
Tam looked up from reading, “You got these off his com?”
“Yes,” Devon replied.
“Did he know his com was recording everything he said?”
“Will ours do it too?” Lacey demanded.
Devon smiled wryly. “I don’t know about yours, but mine was attempting to. The order was deep inside the programming. When I found it, Jase and I created a little bug to block it recording anything unless we tell it to.”
Lacy pulled off her wrist com and tossed it to him. He caught it deftly.
“Put it on mine please.”
Mix pulled his own com off his wrist and held it out. “Mine as well.”
“I’ll bring in the Militia’s coms. You’re going to be very busy for a while Gentlemen.”
Devon coughed. “Getting back to our original problem, what are we going to do about Stevens?”
Lacey sighed. “I don’t think it will be safe to just turn him loose on one of the colonies. That paper makes it plain he is higher up in the Insurgence than anyone else we’ve caught. I’m afraid it will have to be something permanent.”
Mix nodded. “I’ll take care of it. Let me know when my com has been cleared and your bug installed.”
Back at the Brendan estate, he sent out a bulletin for all the runners to come in for a meeting.
When the Hawkins brothers entered, he Gestured for them to take seats. “Pull off your coms and put them on the desk.”
They reluctantly did as he asked.
“What’s up. Boss?”
“I just found out these little babies have been recording everything we say on them. We’re going to send them to Devon Morton for an overhaul,
The rest of his team was horrified and hastily shed their coms.
“How will we talk to each other?” one of them demanded.
Mix gestured to and box on the table. “In there are some older style phones. We’ll use them for emergency contacts. In the meantime, try not to say anything compromising on your phone. They left, grumbling a little under their breaths.
Mix sipped his coffee, considering Stevens and the best way to rid himself and the others of him, without drawing notice from the authorities. Finally, he rose from his chair and went to his cabinet. If you had good contacts, and Mix had very good contacts with Earth’s black market, you could obtain almost anything. He took out two pill bottles and compared the pills in them to the Rohypnol tablets. He decided the second one looked the most like the Rohypnol and took it out to put in the small cup with the other tablet.
When Jim Hawkins returned after seeing the others off the estate, he held out the cup to him. “Stevens dose for this evening. Be sure he takes them both.”
Hawkins looked down into the cup. What’s the second one?”
”Cyanide.” Mix always told his henchmen the truth whenever possible. Like himself, the Hawkins were intent on preserving the secret of the Portal. “We’re getting rid of him tonight.”
Hawkins nodded placidly and took the cup.
Stevens took the cup suspiciously. “Why two pills? And this one looks different. Why?”
Hawkins shrugged. “Different Manufacturer, I guess. We are going to move you tonight so you’re getting an extra heavy dose.” He handed the man a glass of water. “Here, get it over with.
He waited until Stevens rose and headed for the toilet to vomit. “Damn you, Hawkins, and Damn Mix too. What did you give me?” He got out, before heaving again.
Hawkins shrugged. “Here, have some water.” He handed Stevens a half-filled glass of water from the tap.
Stevens threw it at him. It missed, bouncing off the wall.
Hawkins Picked it up. “Don’t waste your time trying to break this—it might look like glass but its Acrylic.”
Stevens threw up again. He staggered over to the bed and collapsed, his body still shaking with dry heaves.
Hawkins watched him placidly. It wasn’t as satisfying as watching him die from a bullet wound, but he knew his wife and children back on St Antoni were safe once again.
“Is dead?” Mix asked from the doorway.
“Yes.”
Pick him up. We’re taking him to San Demos. San Demos had been devastated when most of the coastline of California, Ocean and Washington slid into the ocean during the massive earthquakes when Earth’s Teutonic plates began to move. Thanks to them, it found itself one of the new coastal towns. squatted on the edge of cliffs now forming the Pacific shore. Affluent homes of the wealthy overlooked the ocean. Closer to the center of town a newly restored area accommodating the business district was surrounded by apartments where workers lived. A section of decaying buildings separated the business district from factory complexes. Many of these hadn’t been renovated. The lodgings became more rundown the further from the business section they were. In outlying sections criminal element reigned supreme, with police rarely venturing to enter the neighborhoods unless they were in a large group. It was to this area Mix drove.
“You know where we are?” Hawkins asked.
Mix stopped before a storefront that had been a drugstore before the Disasters. “Yes, I do. That’s a drug lab owned by the Reds. We’re going to dump him here.”
With difficulty the two men extracted Stevens body from the sled.
“Put him in a kneeling position.” Mix told him.
It took an hour to reach San Demos, so the body hadn’t yet gone into rigor mortis. Hawkins had to hold the body upright while Mix shot the corpse in the back of the head. Hawkins let go and Stevens fell over.
“Let’s go,” Mix said briskly, getting back in the van. “With any luck if the police find him, they’ll put his death down to a rival gang.”
Mix dropped Hawkins back at the Brendan Estate before going on to Laughing Mountain to make his report. On the way, he commed Torrent. “I’ve come on some information that might lead you to another of the Insurgents agents.”
A few minutes later, his com tinged a text coming in. “I want it. Where are you?”
Mix texted him back. “I’ll be in Laughing Mountain in about half an hour. Meet me at Devon Morton’s house.”
UNTIL THE 12TH OF NEVER
BEFORE THE Apocalypse caused by global pandemics and the shifting of Earth’s Teutonic plates, humans had been steadily polarizing the ethnic groups, religions and cultural differences which made up human society. With the emigration to new colonies on other planets, human society had experienced a leveling and blending of the things that had previously divided them. Even with help provided by Earth-Gov, survival on an alien world suddenly became more important than cultural and religious beliefs or skin color. What church your neighbors attended or their skin color was less important than knowing those neighbors could be depended on in a crisis. This was even more pronounced on the Outlawed Colonies such as St. Antoni, Arcadia, Barsoom and Shangri-La.
Since many of the people who believed in psychic abilities also practiced some form of Paganism, Marriage ceremonies on Shangri-La leaned toward Wiccan and other Pagan rites, incorporating them into vows of love, fidelity and commitment.
Having been raised on the Colony, neither Clemintine or Mason found this mixture of beliefs and ceremonies strange. They opted to hold their joining ceremony in the cove where the remains of the craft sailed by Mason’s parents had been found. It was a beautiful area. Sheer, iridescent cliffs descended from the headland to the beach, reached by a narrow set of carved stairs. The pristine beach rimmed an azure ocean with white, foamy waves gently lapping the golden sand. The sea water was as clear as a swimming pool.
Josephine, Drusilla and Timothy had been chosen to act as the Elders who would consecrate the beach for the ceremony and officiate at the joining.
Arriving early, the three of them set up the sacred circle, asking for the spirits of the four winds to bless the area, and setting out the different colored candles symbolizing the spirits. These would be lit during the ceremony. Friends and family members would be bringing an array of food to share after the ceremony.
Because fancy materials customarily used for wedding clothes on earth were cost-prohibitive to import to the colonies, Clemintine had opted for a gown woven from sheer Vicubura wool, and left in its natural pale pink color, with an off-the-shoulder wrap. It clung to her breast, waist and hips, falling in shimmering folds to mid-calf. A Mother-of-pearl headband held the delicate, hand-crocheted swath of material falling from the back of her head to below her shoulders. Because of the beach sand, she had elected to go barefoot. Ismelda had been adorned with a scarf of the same Vicubura wool.
Clemintine had finally got the designs and colors for Grace and Tracy’s gowns from them, barely in time for the dressmaker to have them ready to wear to the ceremony. As mothers of the bride, Josephine and Grace both wore dark blue dresses which left the shoulders and back bare. The matching bolero jacket was decorated with gold crocheted ribbons on the collar, front and waist to match those around the hem of the skirt. Tracy and Orinda both wore shades of green to represent their unmarried state. Ariel’s dress was green as well. Mason and the other men wore loose, cream-colored trousers and shirts.
The joining ceremony had been announced in the home section of the local news. Jeanne Talent regarded it sourly. Her Grandfather, with whom she was sharing lunch, eyed her speculatively.
“He’s not our type, you know,” he remarked, tapping the newsprint with one thick finger.
“Who’s not our type?” she asked.
“Mason Archer,” he said. “Don’t look so surprised girl. Do you think I don’t pay enough attention to realize you’ve had a thing for him since the seventh grade? Man’s a maverick. “
She shrugged with an assumption of indifference. “It doesn’t matter. I just don’t see what he sees in her.”
“She is a maverick too.”
Despite her pretended indifference, Talent couldn’t resist showing up to watch the ceremony She parked in a group of trees near the cliffs and found a spot to watch from not easily seen from the beach. Taking out her surveillance vid-nocs, she tuned them so she could hear the beach ceremony as well as see it.
She watched Timothy, Drusilla and Josephine as they held hands and repeated the call for guidance and protection from the spirits of the Four Corners. Timothy planted two hooked staffs in the sand and hung crystal wind chimes from each hook. The sunlight shone through the crystal prisms, creating rainbow hues.
The trio had barely finished before Clemintine and Mason’s friends and family arrived and began ferrying the food and fold-up chairs and tables down the steep stairs from the top of the cliffs. They set the tables close to cliff wall to protect the food from the sea birds.
The crowd on the beach turned to watch as Mason escorted Clemintine down the steep cliff steps, proceeded by Ismelda.
When they entered the circle, Josephine closed it off with salt to keep out negative spirits. Holding each other’s hands, the couple turned to face each other. Behind the couple, Josephine laid out a hand-made wicker broom with runes carved in the handle.
The three Elders joined hands and faced the couple and the witnesses. At their backs, the ocean lapped softly in the background, accompanied the music of the chimes.
Josephine, as the center Elder, began the ceremony. “Welcome family and friends of Clemintine Joyce LaSalle and Mason Edward Archer to their joining in marriage.”
Timothy continued, “As they join in life, Clemintine and Mason set aside the past and look to the future.”
