Prisoner of Earthside: A Novella (STRYDER'S HORIZON Book 2) (3 page)

Earthside is not all perfection. Deviants run wild in the manufactured shadows of the perfect human colony. Mankind still repeats the sins of the Garden of Eden. Even the noses that turned up against us when we still looked like savage Burnsiders were capable of the most amoral pleasures.

Now we were fresh pieces of candy, and those noses didn’t see us as outward mirrors of their deviant souls, but rather corruptible flesh. People started to say things to us that would get your neck slit in Burnside. I found it pretty humorous, but Alice didn’t like it.

She liked her makeover. More than once I caught her admiring her new look reflection.  I felt Alice deserved it. She deserved to have her Thom Crisp.  It would be nice to think a man could make everything right in the world. But the human race had seen a few thousand years of detailed records that was pretty substantial evidence that man was all that was wrong with this world.

“I just want the two of you to watch,” a quiet clerk told us. He touched his lips and made a kissy-kiss face. “I’m an artist you know.”

“I’m sure that you are.”

“I get to go places to perform. I’ve been in every room in the Templar’s Stairs. Every. Room.”

There the clerk had finally said something useful. Here I thought he was only going to be a guidepost for the more social atmospheres Earthside could offer.

“Templar’s Stairs?” I said playing impressed. It would be impressive if being the toilet paper for the richest and most hypocritical visitors to
Earthside was impressive. I could see the thought turning Alice’s stomach. And all she’d met was Lord Gentry, who was certainly handsome in the traditional sense.

“Yes, I know every room by heart.”

“I’d love to go there.”

The clerk tapped his lips again and looked Alice and I over.

“You looking to make money?”

“Just the experience. You know how hard it is to meet the people who can make it worth your while,” I said.

The clerk puffed and nodded. “Maybe I can line something up for you next week, I got some regulars I could see if they…”

“We’re only here tonight.”

The clerk gasped, “Burnsiders?”

I smiled.

“Now that I know a very particular client who would just adore, but tonight? Hmm. That sounds mighty suspicious, young ladies.”

“We came to
Earthside for fun, not business.”

The clerk thought again, this time he really worked his fingers on his mouth, like he needed to reprogram them for what he said next.

“Tonight only,” I said.

“Well that simply won’t do.”

“Can I show you my talents?”

The clerk blinked and nodded at a room behind him. “Go inside and I’ll be in in a minute.”

Alice was a nervous wreck. She glared and paced. “Talents?”

“Relax, take off your shirt.”

“Damn it,
Kimmie, I said no weird shit!”

I smiled. “You have to trust me.”

The door swung open and closed as the clerk slid through with a devious grin. “Hurry, I can’t be gone from my post long.”

I showed him my talents.

I’m sure deep down this young clerk had good intentions, a sweet heart and aspirations and hopes that no one should dash. I’m sure he is beloved by a set of parents who worked their hardest to give him a good life. And I’m sure that one day he’ll realize selling his body isn’t what is going to make him the happiest.

But my talent has to ignore that. Otherwise I can’t do what I learned to do six years ago. Of course members of the
Dessup Gang put up a better fight. They liked to bite and scratch. All this clerk did was squeal.

The
Dessup never begged. They just antagonized me more.

This clerk begged and promised and finally agreed.

In the end Alice looked scared.

I had to tell her to put her shirt back on.

“You’ll have to teach me that move one day,” Alice said as we marched back up the Templar’s Stairs.

“That would be like telling you how to beat me on Gregor’s track.”

“You know as soon as I get my ride back in shape you and Old Shepard will be sucking my dust, right?”

I shrugged and earned one of Alice’s trademark scoffs.

The clerk had set us up with a client. He knew of three visiting Colonial Officers. Three that would likely have dealings in
Earthside related to Thom Crisp.

The clerk said one was really stressed. His name was Grand Officer Nehalem. He was all too delighted when the clerk displayed us to him.

“What’s the plan, or are you going to surprise me with another one of your talents?” Alice asked as we boarded the lift.

“You know me, I only turn when I see the curve.”

“Tell me you have a plan.”

I nodded.

The lift gave a pleasant chime and the doors opened. We reached our destination. The room we stepped into was dark. Only the light from the lift gave us a lay of the room.  It was large and long, with two couches facing each other, vases of non-native plants on every floating end table. Midway down the long couches it went dark again, and then a soft blue glow from the window began to illuminate the rest of couches and room.

“Hello?” I called.

There was no response. I wondered if this Grand Officer Nehalem had a specific preference for how the night was going to play out. We kept walking deeper into the room. The lift closed behind us and plunged us into darkness briefly. The large blue window was the only source now. Something felt wrong.  Alice had the same feeling. We were ready for anything and still not sure what we should be ready for.

Somewhere in the darkness, something was knocked and crashed against the ground. Whatever it was it didn’t break. But there was only a second to start guessing what it could’ve been. There was a rush, something moving fast. The lift shot open again. A silhouetted figure dove inside.

The lift door closed just as the figure turned to face us. We both recognized him. It was the teenager who had hounded us earlier. His eyes were beady, full of venom. The lift took him away, leaving us in darkness again.

“Stay here, watch my back,” I said. “I’m going to have a look around.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Alice said.

I crept through the room, finding the hallway that had been home to the sound of the fallen object. I didn’t have to walk far. I stepped right into it. It was soft and damp.

It was Grand Officer Nehalem. Dead.

Blood covered his forehead and the floor. He had a surprised look on his face and was still in his Colonial uniform. The top of his head was where someone struck him hard. His body was cool to the touch. He’d been dead for a little while. But he must’ve been alive three hours ago when the clerk scheduled the rendezvous.

I tried to think it all out in the darkness. I needed some grasp of it all before Alice knew what was going on and wanted to riddle my brain with too many questions and ideas.

The teenager we met on the streets did resemble the dead man. So I felt safe assuming he was indeed the father the teen was referring to. He also gave us a dose of a conspiracy story:
Thom Crisp was a traitor.

It was probable. The Red Empress never returned any one alive and the chances of escaping and traveling a galaxy to get home were just as unlikely. Nehalem believed this and now he was dead. His teenage son was on the run, likely with no one to trust. I had assumed he was a native to
Earthside, but if his father was staying at the Templar’s Stairs he was likely only appointed here temporarily. Which gave the son little opportunity to find someone trustworthy. He might even have been an easy frame job. I stood up and began to wander. I needed lights but didn’t want to attract anyone monitoring the giant window in the entry room. Not that they couldn’t use other methods to realize two prostitutes were wandering about their murder scene.  I had to be quick. I had to think.

“What’s going on?” Alice asked as I dashed along the couches looking for my answer, whatever it was. I didn’t answer. I just kept looking. Colonial Officers might even be on their way. The son might’ve fled and reported the crime thinking we were the killers. Being from Burnside, we were perfect scapegoats and naturally untrustworthy.

“Kimmie?”

I had to ignore Alice.  I had to think,
how would I frame young Nehalem for his father’s murder?
I found a restroom hidden in the panel of a wall. It opened up and there in the sink was a heavy looking trophy. It was in the sink, covered in blood. Some one had tried to clean it off.

I don’t know why I believed that the son had nothing to do with it. It could be his prints all over the sink and trophy. I’m sure I could find his personal quarters and locate where the trophy had come off his shelf. But I couldn’t risk the Colonial Officers choosing him as a suspect first and closing the case, when everything in my gut told me this had something to do with Thom Crisp.

“Is that a dead body? What are you doing?” Alice asked me as I washed the blood off the trophy.

“Buying us some time. Help me trash this place. It needs to look like two hookers tore the place up.”

“Kimmie, we’re two hookers.”

“Speak for yourself,” I said.

Now my line of thinking was sound. As with every joke, and every thought, the most important aspect is timing. I was never a stand up comedian. I didn’t have the timing. And I was never the first one to patent an idea, always a day late and a buck short.

So it was unfortunate that as I hung Nehalem’s body up in the air and wrote in his blood on his chest: ‘PAY NEXT TIME.’ That the lift would open and a whole squad of Colonial Officers would see my unfinished work.

I didn’t get a chance to tell Alice how to handle the situation. If she kept telling the truth it wouldn’t hurt how I was handling things since we were expected to lie. I just hoped she’d keep Thom Crisp out it.

“You’re not from Earthside. You have no business here do you?” The interrogating officer said.  He had a huge brow that could’ve been confused with a receding hairline.

“I don’t have any business. I’m retired.”

The officer glanced at my file again and nodded. “Former KorCorp employee, and recent honorary guard in the expulsion of the Dessup Gang.  Are you just some one who likes to kill or were you actually trying to help the Colonial?”

I gave a laugh to see if it would unnerve him. He had a good poker face.

“I wouldn’t mind speaking with Grand Officer Tourner if possible, that’s why I came to Earthside today.”

“I have record of that as well. But as you were told the Grand Officer has left the planet. Is this how you came to be in Grand Officer Nehalem’s presence?” he asked.

“No, we pretended to be prostitutes.”

“You’re not aware of
Earthside law? Impersonating a prostitute is a criminal offense, as much as impersonating a Colonial Officer.”

“I didn’t think there was a difference,” I said.

“Look, there’s plenty of evidence that shows you murdered Grand Officer Nehalem. We even found the boy’s trophy that you had attempted to clean. Right now I’m trying to make sense of it all and establish if there is enough motive for you to be allowed the minimal sentence. But if you’re just killing people for your own jolly good time, well then I can’t help you.”

I nodded.

I didn’t have a lot of options. Right now the murder was pinned on me. That wasn’t my plan when I was displaying the corpse to look like a vengeful prostitute had gone off the deep end.  I had hoped to get out of there and find Nehalem’s son.  I had figured there were enough registered and unregistered prostitutes in Earthside to keep the Colonial busy for a night, giving us plenty of time to get back to Burnside.

Now I sat in a room, convicted.

A buzzer sounded. I knew that meant my counsel had arrived. The interrogating officer backed away from the table between us and crossed his arms.

The door opened and in stepped a funny little man. He had big round eyes and a nose that looked like it was about to drip off his face. His teeth were as perfect as could be though, as was his molded hair.

“Counselor Lewton,” the interrogator groaned.

“Ah, Officer Francis, what a pleasure to be working with you again.”
Lewton smiled at me and began to review my charges on a tablet.

“This one is open and shut,” Francis said.

“I heard you all arrived and caught Miss Stryder red-handed. Brilliant. If you could do that at every crime scene I should retire.” Lewton looked up at me and gave a smile.

“We’re working on her sentencing. She doesn’t want to cooperate.”

Lewton nodded and checked the tablet again. “I would like to request a moment of privacy with my client so that I can explain her options.”

Francis didn’t like that, but by law he had to obey. So he dragged his feet out of the interrogating room. Granted the act of him leaving didn’t solve anything for me, I still let out a big sigh it was half as good as the one I’d felt earlier when I got a haircut and fresh make up and pores.

“Do you understand the differences in Colonial and Earthside law?”

“There is no difference,” I said.

“Wrong, but I’m glad you answered that way. Being from Burnside I may be able to draw some leniency in the charges against morality. You cannot be held to the same standard as and Earthsider. Colonial v. Tamhot.” He stated the case proudly. “This would also explain why you were not registered as a prostitute.  However, that’s a trickier subject since you should’ve informed the border guard when you attained your visas this afternoon.”

“Actually, you’re right. I forgot that Colonial and
Earthside law are different. By law Earthside cannot detain a citizen of Burnside without allowing them to post bail.”

Lewton
laughed and shook his head. “That’s correct. And I see you are quite well off Miss Stryder. The issue is that you cannot post your own bail. Otherwise you rich Burnsiders would just go on your dandy murdering sprees here in Earthside every chance you could.”

“I don’t want to post my bail. I want to post bail for Alice Murphy.”