Wild Space Pt. 04

The old man did, too. He stood and she joined her partner. They courteously saluted the officer and it was returned. The beautiful woman then sat at her desk and typed casually on her terminal.

When they got to the crowd of men and women, civilians and Rangers, walking the ring of the base, Sita said, "Bullshit."

*********************************

Arold must have somehow heard that she had come home. He had cooked dinner, and left her a fatty cut of meat, her absolute favorite, and a double helping of vegetables cooked in real butter. The food was still hot. Lately he hadn't been cooking at all. She wondered if he cooked for Viva, the gorgeous golden little woman he had taken up with a few nights prior. Sita shook her head, took off her cap and ran two hands through her hair. Enough with that line of thinking.

"Thank you," She called out loud enough to carry through their home, and a grunt from his work area was the only response. But it was better than him only talking to her to tell her his mistress was coming over. No, she told herself as she sat at the table, I shouldn't be so jealous. I have been having my fun, too. She resolved to tell him that, and soon. Perhaps if they were both open with one another about it and got it out of their system they could get back to normal. If normal was worth getting back to.

Arold was drinking a glass of sparkling wine and had another in his hand for her. He joined her at the table and wordlessly offered it to her. She accepted it and drank. Sita was keenly aware that the good food, the wine, had all come from Viva thanks to her job in the mess hall. She resolved again not to make a big deal of it. The wine was chilled and very choice, so far as wine on the base went. She dipped her nose into the glass and sipped it.

"How is the case coming?" He asked, and his blue eyes were serious, concerned.

"There is no case," Sita said, and immediately regretted her tone. She hastened to add, "Alla told us to leave it alone, that her people are leaving it alone, too."

"What about the lieutenant?"

"I doubt Chiugo is going to overrule the Capital liaison officer," She told him, but inwardly, she wondered. "As it stands now I'm done gallivanting around the cosmos."

She meant it lightly, and she tried to catch his eye and smile. What felt like a million years ago, back home, Arold had told her that the first smile of hers he had seen stopped him in his tracks and almost made him lose his breath. But he didn't see her smile now or meet her eye.

"I've decided something," Arold said hesitantly. "I've talked it over with everyone involved but you. I'm going to live with Viva for a while."

His words were like a blow from a club. Sita had been reaching for more wine but now she withdrew her hand and reflexively hugged herself in disbelief.

Her face must have given away her shock and dismay. Arold sighed and put down his own glass.

"We've been talking about it for a while." Arold had always been stoic, but now he sounded positively robotic. "I'm sorry, Sita. But I can't do this anymore."

"You can't do this what anymore?" She demanded, finding her voice, and it was outraged. All of her calm had left her. "Our marriage? Our home?"

"You're one to talk about those things," He spit out with just as much venom, his own feelings rearing their head. "We don't have a marriage anymore, we don't have a home. We don't have a life. And before you say that I knew this before I married you and we came here, don't. You didn't know how it was going to be, either."

"So you're going to make a new life with that bitch?" Sita almost yelled. Now that she had said it she couldn't stop, her pain and anger were like a burning in her chest. "What does she have that I don't have?"

"She's here," Her husband said softly, having recovered from his outburst. "And you're not."

"You'll have to get a real job, you can't be a leech like you are with me," Sita told him. "You'll be just another civilian on the base."

"I've got one lined up already."

"You'll have to live elsewhere. This is MY home."

"I'll be living with Viva and her family."

He always had to have an answer for everything, she fumed to herself. But she didn't trust herself to speak. Nothing she could say would help her now, only push him further away.

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long will you be gone?" Sita asked him through tightened lips.

Arold turned away from her, and made a piteous, low sound in his throat. Whether it was of disgust or sadness she couldn't guess, and he hadn't allowed her to see his face and wouldn't answer if she asked.

"We'll see." Was all he said, and then he was gone without a backwards glance.

Silence descended in their home, but this time it was because she was alone, not because of their pent up resentments and feelings. All of those had been spent. Sita sat at the table again, and this time managed to pick up her wine. When that was done she picked up the one Arold had left, too. It was going to be one of those nights again.

*****************

The sky burned blue, with puffy white clouds, but the green jungle nearly always kept them in sheathed shadows. Perfect operating environment, the lieutenant had called it.

For three days, the squad had bivouacked beyond scanner range and took turns covertly observing the enemy by night. They had sent out patrols of sorts, in their primitive, subhuman fashion. They consisted of strong young men with stone weapons, with their nearly human faces and bodies, but the soldiers were never detected, not once. Edge did the majority of the counter recon herself, pushing her body and mind to the breaking point. When she wasn't studying them she was thinking about the best plan of attack.

Gara kept telling her to take it easy, worrying, but Edge kept shaking her off, until finally they could have a moment alone.

When she was sure they were out of sight, Edge took the other woman's hand and held it in a grip that was half affectionate, half a physical warning. Violence was never far from her, an overhanging cloud of her entire life nowadays.

"You're going at it too hard," Gara told her in a low, husky voice. "You've got the whole squad worried."

"And you?" Edge said resentfully. "You're not worried about me?"

"You know I am."

When they had first met Gara had shared that she joined the Army to earn money for her surgeries, but after two years she had only been able to afford a handful of them. When they had first slept together on campaign, months ago, Edge had felt guilty of drawing pleasure from Gara's still very masculine cock, the contrast it provided with the ripe breasts and mouth. Even though Gara still shuddered slightly whenever Edge would touch her penis or take it inside of her she assured the other woman repeatedly that she was happy to do so if it pleased her lover.

"One more day," Edge told her. "One more day. We'll attack tonight."

"You'll need to be rested for it," Gara nodded. "I'll stand watch."

"No need," From the pocket of her combat vest Edge withdrew a slim cylinder, the width of her pinky, jet black. She shook it, unscrewed the cap just a bit, and took a stiff snoot's worth in both nostrils. "No need for you to, either."

Gara watched the other woman imbibe with a blank expression. All of them used, took whatever the Army gave them, but some more than others. And some couldn't stop when they weren't in combat, like Edge. She opened her mouth, and closed it.

A day later it was over. The trench was strewn with remains. The enemy had been classified as combatants, and there were more than enough rspears, slinges, stone axes and purloined firearms among them to justify it, but there had been children and old folks, too. They all formed an endless parade, moving smoothly and seamlessly past her. Faster, faster it went, until it was a blur, and when she awoke it was with a scream. A weapon filled her hand automatically, eyes wide, alert for any threat.

Edge had been slumped in the pilot's seat of the Horizon, not on the musky jungle loam of a battlefield. She forced herself to relax, and in the handful of seconds before the dream disappeared forever, she grew reflexive upon it.

What we did there wasn't a battle, she thought, and then sighed. Her head hurt abysmally, a deep drawing ache that radiated from the center of her brain out to her throbbing temples. When she moved her entire body protested. It was as if she hadn't slept at all.

Crobe was watching her silently from the copilot seat, like an angel of death biding its time. He was bound hand and foot to the chair, and it was only after she was sure he couldn't move did she finally sit back and relax. Edge had taken a few whacks from her vibrant, that custom colored vapor that always treated her so well, but had fallen asleep nonetheless. That wasn't supposed to happen.

"The fuck are you looking at?" She demanded roughly. Her dreams were usually a surreal parade of images, feelings, and she learned nothing from them. This one had been different, however.

"You were crying out, sweating," He said in his precise way. "Are you burdened with past trauma?"

"None of your business," Angrily, Edge pushed herself up from her seat. She wouldn't share her pain and grief with this man.

She went back to the cargo hold, far out of earshot, and cracked open a fresh vibrant. Immediately, her headache was gone, replaced by absolutely nothing, freezing her brain mercifully. Mollified, she went back to the cockpit.

"Where are we going?" Crobe wanted to know.

"We're going to find some place for you to work." Edge told him. "You have a big job ahead of you and you need your peace and quiet."

"And then what? What kind of job?"

"Something suited to your unique talents." She assured him. To both of ours, she thought.

**********************************

Chiugo was waiting for them as they both walked into the squad room the next morning. It was rumored that their lieutenant never slept, and he certainly looked it. His face and form were all at once brittle and powerful. Sita knew some tragedy had befallen his family in the past, something that made his job his life, but hadn't ever thought to inquire. If Chiugo wanted her to know he would have told her.

"This just came in," The black man said, handing them a data disc. He waited until Yomp loaded it in his portable computer. "A man was killed a few days back. Professor Kello, a university professor on Ajax's Scourge."

Ajax's Scourge was the nearest world directly under the sway of the Capital Systems, close enough to still be in the Barrens, but far richer than Kekal or Mobussah with its silver laden winds. "How is this our case?" Sita asked. "They probably have their own police force."

"They do," Chiugo admitted. "This killer stabbed the good professor with a disposable knife, the kind that dissolves, and hacked his vehicle, sent it and all the evidence peeling out onto the other end of the planet."

"How does that work?" Yomp wanted to know, glancing over the file.

"Ajax's Scourge is all one, large, interconnected dome with atmosphere." The lieutenant brushed a hand over his short, bristly hair. "Inside the vehicle, when they could finally get it to stop, they found a woman's dress and padding, a disguise."

"I still don't see what this has to do with us," Sita told the two men tiredly. Perhaps she simply didn't want to work. The emptiness of her home, the quiet, has unnerved her. After the two glasses of wine she had drank she had felt fortified enough to sleep, which she had done fitfully and poorly. Exhaustion was already pulling at her mind and body, making it hard to see what was right in front of her.

"Forgive the girlie," Yomp told Chiugo. "She's not a morning person. Not herself until the afternoon."

The lieutenant shot both of them a look. "Tell her."

"Tell me what?"

"A female perpetrator, well equipped, with a propensity to use misdirection." The old man told the other two Rangers. "Sound like anyone we know?"

"Tyla!" Sita said, and smiled big. "Lieutenant, you deserve a medal."

"Let's save the medals until we bring whoever this is into custody," The big man said, but whereas her tone was teasing and gentle his mood was also pleased, but in him it was a grim eagerness. "Right now, all we know is that two crimes were admitted with similar motives and methods, on two different worlds. We've got nothing but a coincidence."

"We've got a saying about coincidences," Yomp said. "They stink worse than a dead body. Ranger Sita?"

"Let's do it," She said. Immediately her headache, Arold, it was all gone. The job was on now.

**************************************

As festive as Mobussah had been, as earthy as Kekal, Ajax's Scourge was everything those worlds were not. From orbit, as the Lady Chloe descended, the connected domes looked like an unruly and bright silver spider web thrown over the dark green of the dirt. She thought it was pretty, and said so.

Yomp snorted. "Oh, it's pretty alright, girlie. Pretty and rich and happy and healthy, full of gorgeous women and strong men and beautiful children."

"The truth?" Sita asked, deadpanned. He could be such a sarcastic old cuss.

"The truth is the same here as on any Capital World, Ranger Sita." The old man said. "The rich stay rich and the poor get poorer. Oh, on the Scourge, the common people have plenty of recycled air to breathe, they grow their own food and have a bit to sell. They're not so cursed as the common folk on Centralia, for instance. But this Professor Kello was bound to be a nobleman and have some lofty title and plenty of silver, you'll see."

He wasn't wrong, Sita saw immediately, once they had landed. It was nice to see a fully modern spaceport after some of the filthy landing pads they frequented. Standing proudly upright, dominating the spaceport, was the most monstrously ugly statue of Ajax the Great she had ever seen: sword in hand, a bloody head thrown over his shoulder, she had never the great general portrayed in such a bloodthirsty manner. Everywhere she looked, Sita saw money. A fully functional and automated credit exchange for those folks coming in offworld with silver. The rich merchant on an automated skimmer; a high class prostitute strutting by with a client, her inky black form clad only in a metal bikini. Even the farmer selling vegetables and fruits did so wearing a new outfit, clean as a spring morning. Somewhere off in the distance she smelled something delicious. Following her nose, she saw a kettle of some spicy, creamy smelling gravy with chunks of meat in it being stirred in an open air cafe for workers, not at all like the rude haunches of bloody flesh they'd eaten on Kekal. Absent completely were any smells of dirt, as well as the feeling and sound of the ever present black wind, and the sight of a daytime sky. Besides the low roar of voices and the hiss of piped in air it was unnaturally quiet. Here on Ajax's Scourge it was always dark, always illuminated by artificial lights. The stars twinkled above, shot through with metal of the dome that held breathable air and them all in safety. Every once in a while the transparent material in between the metal would shiver or seem to shift under a gale of wind that blotted out the sky. Sita jumped each time, but no one else seemed to pay it any mind.

Yomp had plugged in to an information terminal, but his old Rangers computer wasn't compatible.

"I feel like a damned rustic," The old man complained. He yanked the cord out of the terminal. "We'll have to do this the old fashioned way."

Sita was already flagging down a harried looking but well dressed woman who was holding a toddler's hand. Briefly, she explained who they were and what they needed:

"Barrens Ranger Sita," She said, hand on her cudgel, turning so the woman could inspect the badge over her breast. "I am looking for a university professor named Kello."

"Kell-what?" The woman asked, narrowing tired eyes. "Never heard of them. Which university?"

"Uh," Sita said, blinking, glad her helmet's visor somewhat hid her eyes. "I didn't-we didn't know there was more than one."

"Of course there is more than one!" The woman said, exasperated. "Did you try the information terminal?"

"...our computers won't work with it." She felt her face flame, and all of the sudden felt like a damned rustic herself.

"There's a stand for skimmers nearby with an information terminal," The woman jabbed a thumb over shoulder. "Skimmers are transports, in case you don't know." Her toddler began to fidget, and mother and child stalked off without a word.

"I'd say she was less than courteous," Sita said as they walked.

"Probably sick of offworlders not knowing all the rules," Yomp commented. "What's on your agenda here on the Scourge, girlie?"

Sita thought. "Local law enforcement wouldn't do us much good here, would it?"

"I'd say you're right," The old man said with a hint of a smile. "The body is long cold, and these cops will have their noses too damned high in the air to work with the likes of us."

"Thank you, Ranger Yomp." She said softly with a bit of a smile of her own.

"But if not that, what?"

"We should..." She said slowly, thinking hard. "We could dig into Kello's background, his job, things like that."

"We need to know a lot more than that." Yomp told her. "We need to know who's his mother, where he grew up, who he fucks."

"Especially that last part." Sita declared. She raised a hand to hail a skimmer. If this was their girl, she already had a fairly good idea how she had gotten so close to the victim.

********************************

The University of Anthropology consisted of three floors, a stately building even though it was dwarfed by some of the other schools and structures on the planet. It was made of gray steel and stone, like everything else, but it was a pleasant, rounded shape, and a great big pink flag flew in front of it. Sita told Yomp that it was the battle flag of Ajax the Great.

"When the great general beheld the savages inhabiting Centralia, he swept down from the hills with his men." She recited. Even being raised on remote, lawless Benbar, she knew all the Centralian propaganda by heart. "His weapon of choice was a scourge, a whip made of many leather cords with bits of bone sewn at the end. His terrible weapon and visage and skill at arms drove the savages from the lands, where Ana the Sea Lioness sent them to the seas with her chained batons."

"It's an old tale," Yomp allowed as they walked onto the campus. "And an ugly one. 'Savages' means aliens to Centralians, and sometimes I think all humans."

"That's unfair," Sita said to him gently. They had had this discussion before. "The Rangers employ both. Some humans on Benbar marry aliens and vice versa."

"Some," The old man agreed. "But not many. Not many on either side."

What he said was true. There was no stigma in the Barrens at large for a man and a woman or two men or two women and so forth on marrying a member of another species. But it was not prevalent. And the fruit of any such union would be spat upon on a Capital World, at least in better circles, and picked up and detained if they lingered or showed any hint of malfeasance. In practice, however, the norm was for humans to work alongside aliens, as both existed nearly everywhere. Some even existed together in the form of marriage and lovers, where biology allowed it. Sita knew that Vimorans and humans, for example, could not create children, though coupling could and did easily and happily take place for those so inclined. By and large, people tended to stick to their own kind, Sita and Yomp included.

"Benbar is not Centralia," He went on. "No place in the Barrens is. What do you care so much about the history of the Capital Worlds?"