City of Broken Lights Read online

  My expression must have been one of surprise because my friend emitted a single laugh. "Sarah's much angrier with the Chancellor. Just make sure you keep the anger directed in the Chancellor's direction, and Sarah will be able to do her job."

  I stopped in the middle of the path and looked my friend in the face. “Because the victim is a clone?”

  “Birds of a feather, flock together,” he replied solemnly. “At least I think that’s how the ancient saying goes.

  I SAT DOWN AT THE TABLE. The remains of breakfast had been cleared away. Saundra and Marshall sat next to each other, faces devoid of emotion, seemingly prepared to hear the worst.

  “We’ll take the case.”

  “Good,” Saundra replied, relief flooding through her face as her shoulders slumped, and she slouched down in her chair. “All that remains is to agree upon the fee.” She produced a square piece of plasticard and slid it across the table to me. I turned it over and glanced at the amount. The figure left me speechless.

  It, however, did not render Sarah speechless. She'd peeked over my shoulder before taking a seat to my right. With a bluntness that surprised me, Sarah changed the dynamics of the situation.

  "The Inspector misspoke. Triple the fee, and we'll take the case."

  Unaccustomed to direct negotiations conducted with such bluntness and straightforwardness, the Ambassador's mouth fell open for a second. Just one. Then he gasped and coughed before finally getting a response out. “I believe the original number was more than adequate,” he protested. “More than either of you really could expect to command.”

  “Plus expenses,” Sarah quipped, not blinking an eye.

  Saundra looked at me with a curious expression, evaluating what was taking place. “Then there is the matter of our retainer fee,” Sarah added, directly staring Saundra in the eyes.

  The expression of a powerful ruler made its reappearance on Saundra’s face. The Chancellor was back. “Is there anything else,” she asked with disdain.

  “Yes,” Sarah shot back. “Father Nathan does important work in his parish. His absence,” Sarah paused and tilted her head to the right, “hinders the progress being made by the poor and homeless who live there, especially the children.”

  Saundra didn’t bat an eye. “It would seem a donation to the parish would be appropriate.”

  "That's St. Paul's Anglican Church," Father Nathan volunteered, wearing a polite smile. "And please, make certain the Bishop is made aware the funds are earmarked for St. Paul's in Capital City on Beta Prime. It would be a shame if the Bishop misdirected any funds by mistake from someone as prominent as you, Chancellor Vanzetti."

  Sarah was having none of it. "The donation will be ten percent of our fee, which we will match." That got my attention. I was okay with Sarah extorting an obscene amount of credits out of Saundra, but giving my money away without asking was crossing a line. That is until I felt the iron grip on my knee telling me to be quiet.

  "Our retaining fee is an even ten thousand credits. We'll need it and another ten thousand in cash before we start."

  A smile broke out on Saundra’s face. “Ambassador, you should take note. This young lady is a tough negotiator.”

  Saundra extended her right hand towards Marshall. Obviously miffed and embarrassed, the Ambassador placed a small device in his superior's hand. After typing in the username and security password, the Chancellor entered the agreed upon amount and slid the device across the table to me. "Enter your account number. When you’re done,” she nodded at Father Nathan, “I’ll take care of that charitable donation to your parish.”

  The money part of the negotiations completed, I let out a silent sigh of relief. The nasty part seemed to be behind us.

  I was wrong.

  “We need the cash,” Sarah demanded. “Don’t expect receipts. Where we spend this money will be in places you won’t want to know.”

  It was Saundra’s turn to display irritation with Sarah.

  “Are you always this forward, young lady?”

  I cringed at Sarah’s answer.

  "Just with people I don't like."

  Chapter Eight

  Do we have to eat here?”

  "Sarah, it's past lunchtime," I barked. "Father Nathan and I have to eat, even if you and your clone metabolism don't."

  My partner looked around fearfully, looking for anyone who may have heard me before moving close to me, her eyes big in fear. “Please, Sully,” she whispered. “Don’t do that! We don’t know why they grabbed Katrina!”

  Gone was the bold young woman who had fleeced the Chancellor of Athens II out of 170,000 credits.

  "I'm hungry," I repeated. Not that I was ignoring Sarah's fears. It was all too much for me to absorb. What with finding out I had a daughter of sorts and watching my usually timid partner figuratively devour a powerful politician, I was in the mood for comfort food and the right atmosphere to enjoy it in.

  “It’s not Joe’s,” Sarah protested. She stood on her tiptoes with her hands clasped together over her heart. She’d wrinkled her brow by giving me the doe eyes. “Can we eat at the place across the street.” Sarah saved her best weapon for last. She curled her bottom lip under to pout.

  It was too much for Father Nathan who was just as hungry and tired as I was. “C’mon, Sully. It’s not worth it. I want to get out of this heat and humidity.”

  My friend was right. I’d lived in the cold of Capital City for too long. The heat was having its effect on me. If Sarah wanted to eat there and was willing to make a scene, it wasn't worth the effort to eat at the dive joint.

  Father Nathan stepped into the crosswalk to cross the street. Before I could follow, Sarah vanished in front of my eyes. No matter how many times she did it, I never got used to it. I blinked and for a second Sarah reappeared next to Father Nathan and just as quickly she was gone.

  “Clones,” I whispered. “I hope Katrina has none of Sarah’s special mods.”

  "THAT WAS SIMPLY OUTRAGEOUS," Marshall complained bitterly, still stinging from the negotiations. "He put her up to it; I'm telling you, Chancellor."

  "It doesn't matter," Saundra replied. "I would have gone higher, and you know it."

  “It’s the principle of the thing,” Marshall protested. “A mere commoner like that having the audacity to address you, the Chancellor of Athens II, in such a manner over something as mundane as money.”

  "She had her reasons. It was a clever ploy on the part of Thomas."

  “How so? I’m starting to doubt the reports of his ability.”

  Saundra chuckled. “He watched everything while his pretty little assistant upset the neat, orderly display we’d arranged. The same with his overly polite priest friend.”

  “That was disturbing as well,” the Ambassador sniffed. “Honestly, a priest? A conman is more like it.”

  "No," Saundra answered, her tone respectful. "This Father Nathan is what he claims to be. The rector of St. Paul's in Capital City." She looked at the befuddled Ambassador. "I sent a link to the Bishop in question. It turns out this Father Nathan has turned a defunct parish the Bishop wanted to close and sell the property into a viable church. Not that it generates a lot of money," she laughed. "The Bishop was clear on that point. But a lot of people who need help are getting it, and people in the surrounding neighborhoods are actually going to church."

  “But what of the man’s past? Can we trust him?”

  “If Thomas trusts him, then, yes, we’ll take a chance and trust the man.” Saundra stood and smoothed her blouse. “The Bishop told me something interesting about this Father Nathan.”

  The Chancellor picked up her purse in preparation to leave. “It would seem the man has a violent past.”

  Ambassador Marshall stood and bowed slightly, ignoring the servant girl trying to brush food crumbs off his coat. His expression changed from peeved to curious as he followed the Chancellor.

  “Interesting. Tell me more.”

  "It would seem this priest was once a soldier; Sp
ecial Forces was what the Bishop told me."

  RONALDO STARED AT THE comm. Relief swept through him. Waiting was hard enough without having to listen to Josef continuously complain. If the kid wasn't connected Ronaldo might have had the thorn in his side have an accident, eliminating the nuisance permanently.

  He didn’t bother to turn around and look for the younger man. Raising his voice to a shout, he yelled, “C’mere, Josef! You’ll wanna hear this.”

  “What?” demanded the petulant kidnapper, storming into the room. “I’m watching vids.”

  “That was the boss,” Ronaldo replied.

  “Finally,” Josef complained. “He should be the one sitting here with nothing to do all day, having to listen to you complain about everything.”

  Ronaldo muttered under his breath, reminding himself whom Josef was related to, "complain, me?"

  “The boss said to sit tight,” Ronaldo informed his partner.

  “You said I would want to hear this,” the younger man whined. “Well, that’s not what I want to hear!”

  “For two days. Then we’re going to move the girl.”

  “You can move the girl,” Josef whined. “She bit me last time.”

  “Whatever,” Ronaldo snapped, sick of Josef’s constant negativity. “When we move her to the next safe house the boss is going to make our demands. Things are in motion.”

  “IT’S ALL TOO SUDDEN,” I said softly.

  Sarah looked up from her chocolate shake. Normally a very tidy eater, she had managed to smear the light brown concoction around her lips. She didn’t say anything but looked at me hard for a moment, taking in everything she could before looking out the window to the street outside.

  The diner as it turned out, was excellent, a dive joint itself. No self-respecting health care practitioner would let one of their patients set foot in the place. It smelled of grease, fried onions, and what was called fast food on most Alliance planets. Everything looked old like it had been there since Athens II was first settled. A thin layer of grease and dirt covered the inside of the windows. The seats of the booths, the stools at the counter, and the chairs at the tables were all covered in the same fake red vinyl. I don't think a single one didn't have a split or a hole in the vinyl, displaying the off-white foam padding inside.

  Our waitress even looked worn and grimly like the diner itself. Her light blue uniform was covered in stains, and she wore her poorly colored red hair up in a bun with wisps of hair here and there escaping the hold of the hair tie she used. Worn rubber-soled shoes adorned her feet, and in the pocket of the dirty white apron she wore, she carried a tablet which she used to take orders. I thought she couldn’t have been more cliché without chewing a piece of gum.

  I was wrong.

  She was chewing gum.

  “How was the food, Sugar,” she asked, smiling broadly, displaying a decent set of teeth, stained a light brown from drinking too much coffee. The right front upper tooth was stained a dark brown from nicotine, or some other substance people smoked that wasn’t good for them.

  “It was fine,” I answered politely. Alice this woman was not.

  “Can I bring you anything else? Some desert maybe?”

  “No, I’m fine,” I replied, wanting the creature to leave. “Do either of you want anything?” Father Nathan and Sarah shook their heads no, wanting the woman to leave as badly as I did.

  “Just bring the check,” I told her. “We’re new here and just need to get out of the heat for a bit longer.”

  “No problem, Honey,” she laughed. “It’s plain as day you’re not from around here. Take your time. Pay me at the register when you’re ready to go.”

  “You were saying,” Father Nathan said. I must have looked at him funny because he sighed and explained himself. “Before Miss Sunshine interrupted, you said ‘It’s all too much.”

  “Yeah, that.” My mind clouded as I thought about it. “This time yesterday I was asleep on a luxury spaceliner, curious as to what someone would want to hire me to investigate. Now I’ve been hired to find a daughter I didn’t know I had by my ex-girlfriend who Dear John’d me during basic training. Even more confusing, that same ex is now a head of state, making this all a bit dicier."

  "Don't forget," Sarah whispered, reminding me my daughter was a created being, half of whose DNA was mine.

  “I don’t trust Saundra or that Ambassador. They haven’t told us everything.”

  Chapter Nine

  Nightfall did little to help with the horrid humidity, though the heat of the day did break a little. Cruising in the most common hovercar ever put into production, a Hovertron 100 we'd rented, the three of us surveyed the neighborhood. During daylight, it looked like any other working-class neighborhood. The homes all shared a common wall on either side and had identical steps leading up to the front door. The street corners all had small retail shops selling food, alcohol, and such. Some of the corner establishments were local taverns, serving food until a bit later when the booze only crowd would begin filtering in.

  It was when the sun went down that things began to change.

  Drug dealers took up their positions near the street corners. Streetwalkers hid in the shadows, only making an appearance when a potential john drove down the street or stopped to chat the girls up. On the main hoverways, old businesses were boarded up, others converted to storefront churches or shelters, a fact that did not escape Father Nathan's notice.

  "Why would the daughter of a Chancellor live in a neighborhood like this?" Father Nathan's craned his head as he watched a pimp slap one of his girls while we drove past. Usually, I would have stopped and adjusted the pimp's attitude and then hauled him in. I didn’t have that luxury when working as a private dick.

  “We don’t know what their relationship was like,” I pointed out. In fact, we didn’t know much at all. All Saundra had given us were a couple of images of Katrina, her home address, and the day the link had arrived announcing the kidnapping.

  “Sully, let me out here.”

  I looked back at Sarah. Her face looked drawn like she'd missed her meals for a long time. Rings around her eyes made Sarah look even more downtrodden.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, we’ve driven through the area three times now. I’ve got a feel for the grid.” Sarah gave me a weak smile. “There’s an alley a block over where I can get up to the rooftop unseen.”

  I slowed down and parked in front of a shoe store that looked like it had seen better days. We got out and I locked the rental. Not that locks would stop the pros I'd seen in the neighborhood. It was sad really, standing in a community in decline.

  Sarah vanished without a word. We wouldn’t see her again until sunrise. Father Nathan waved and headed back down the street in the direction of the storefront church we’d passed.

  I pulled out a handkerchief I bought at one of the little corner stores and wiped the sticky sweat off my forehead. My shirt was soaked with sweat and clinging to my back. I could feel sweat beading up on my scalp and running down the back of my neck. A block away in the opposite direction was a place I’d spotted earlier that looked promising.

  By the time I’d walked the block my face felt flush. I wiped my face again, taking off a layer of sweat and what felt like a layer of grime. The joint was across the street. Over the door was one of those faux neon signs. This one was a brilliant blue and proclaimed to anyone who could read the place was named The Blue Note.

  With any luck, they played decent music, the kind I like, five hundred years old and with real instruments played by actual musicians. It could be blues, jazz, or rock ‘n' roll so long as it was real and not generated by computers.

  After checking the area out and taking a few pictures of the locals hanging out on the corner with my right eye, I crossed the street. The door opened, allowing a blast of cold air to greet me as a working girl left with a john she’d just picked up. I patted my pocket to make sure my IAPF badge was handy.

  I stopped just inside the doo
r and let my right eye scan the place while my organic eye adjusted to the lighting. The joint had potential. In the far back, a bandstand with instruments was visible. It was too early still for live music, but I took it as a good sign anyhow.

  The bar ran the length of the left side of the room. There were a few booths along the far wall opposite the street and tables with chairs scattered about. Couples were eating, and there were several of what looked like regulars perched on barstools nursing their beer.

  I took a seat at the end of the bar and waited for the bartender. He nodded and made his way down to me.

  “Beer?”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled. "Whatever you got on tap, so long as it's cold."

  I watched as he worked the tap, timing things, so he didn't waste any beer but had a nice layer of foam on the top. With a smooth, practiced motion, he slid the mug down the polished surface of the bar. It came to a stop right in front of me.

  It had been a long time since my last drink. The thought tempted me until I remembered why I was there.

  “Nice place,” I said sincerely, ignoring the temptation in front of me.

  The barkeep took a minute to look at me closely, almost as if he was noticing me for the first time. “You’re not from around here.”

  “No, I’m not. Don’t plan on staying too long either if things go the way I hope.”

  The man’s expression first grew cautious, then suspicious as he wiped down the bar. “Look, I pay on time every month, okay? I don’t want any trouble, but if I have to, I’ll send a link and file a claim on my protection insurance.”

  “I’m not here for that,” I answered calmly. I reached inside the light jacket I was wearing and took out two items and placed them side-by-side on the bar. The barkeep looked down. His face turned pale as he took a step back.

  “I’m not on the job,” I said, pocketing my badge. “But being an Inspector in the Alliance gives me jurisdiction anywhere I go.” I let him consider my explanation for a moment before speaking again.