Darklanding Omnibus Books 10-12: Hunter, Diver Down, Empire (Darklanding Omnis Book 4) Read online

  “What’s up, Quark?”

  “You know my name?”

  “Part of my job. What’s on your mind?”

  Quark Guthrie shifted from foot to foot and dry-washed his hands. “I, uh, I have a sister on Winot VII.”

  Dickles waited for almost a minute before realizing the man was afraid to say more. “Decent gold mines there. Not a SagCon operation.”

  “She says they have other minerals too. And it’s an agricultural planet. Real pretty in the spring. Food’s cheap. Housing costs an arm and a leg, but her cousin Marty ran off with a farmer’s daughter and she’s not letting him come back. So I could sleep on her kitchen floor for a bit,” Quark said.

  “Are you quitting SagCon?”

  “Can I? Not sure I have enough saved to buy out my contract and leave,” Quark said.

  “How much did you save from the boom?” Dickles asked.

  Quark smiled. “Probably went to the Mother Lode too much. Even tried the Cheap Easy a couple of times before the sheriff shut it down. Those girls weren’t as classy as Dixie’s girls.”

  “Not sure classy is the right word.” Dickles moved back to his work cart, impatient to get back to his project. “I’ll check your balance. If you have enough saved to terminate your contract, you can look for passage to Winot VII. I’d rather you stay. You’re a steady worker. Keep in mind the penalties for contract termination are high. It’ll put you in debt for a hundred years wherever you try to go.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Where are you from, Guthrie?”

  “You can call me Quark, sir. I mean, you can call me whatever you want since you’re the boss, I guess. I’m from Oceanus XXXI, sir.”

  “That’s an underwater colony, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. The land above water is too vertical for humans to live on. And the storms are pretty bad up there.”

  “You know all about submarine vehicles, I’m guessing.”

  “Oh, yes sir! Do you have one?”

  “No. Do you know how they’re built?”

  Quark Guthrie looked abashed. “No, sir. I can do maintenance and some emergency stuff. We’re all taught that stuff in grade school. I don’t think the subs are even built on Oceanus. Shipped in from one of the manufacturing worlds, I think.”

  “Okay, Quark. Don’t quit just yet. I’ll try to get you some overtime. Will that help?”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Overtime will help me pay my debt to SagCon quicker and I can go to see my sister on Winot VII. Maybe even visit home, now that you got me thinking about it.”

  “Okay, Quark. I’ll sign you up for overtime.” He hadn’t wanted to accelerate the kid’s departure. With all this water in the mines, it might be good to have someone from Oceanus XXXI around, even if he was probably a high school dropout.

  Dickles turned his back on the young man and tried to remember what he’d been in the middle of before the interruption. It was no use. He needed to eat something and have a nap, lying down if possible but sitting or standing if that was all he could manage.

  There were too many people in the crowded cubicle SagCon bureaucrats had labeled “lounge and cafeteria” on the mine schematics. A group of Ungloks were talking too loudly in their corner, which was unusual for them. He still wasn’t a fan, but they were good workers and hadn’t complained about the sudden pay-cuts after the flood.

  A human strolled among them speaking perfect Unglok, or so it sounded to Dickles, who only had a rudimentary grasp of the guttural language. He listened to the man muttering in an unnaturally low-pitched voice for a human.

  “Hey, get away from my crew,” Dickles said as he approached.

  “You’re the foreman?” the man asked, suddenly giving Dickles every bit of his attention.

  “Lead foreman and site manager.”

  The man nodded knowingly. “Ah, yes. That’s what I thought. These Ungloks don’t think you’re terrible. You know the caverns well for a human.”

  “Never mind all that. What are you doing here and why are you talking to my miners?”

  “This is your crew? Funny, I’d been led to believe you preferred human crews and only tolerated the Ungloks because you have to keep nice with the SagCon bigwigs.”

  “Everyone down here is working for SagCon. That makes the Gloks my crewmen even if I don’t like them.”

  “Fair enough,” the stranger said. “I’m looking for work, as a matter of fact. Security specialist. I understand there have been problems.”

  “Sheriff Fry is in charge of security. Tell me why you’re really here.”

  The man smiled. “The name’s Zane Trustman.” He looked down at his feet, planting his hands on his hips. When he looked up, his winning smile made Dickles want to trust him. “You saw through my act pretty quick. I respect that. I am here to get a job as a security specialist, but I also have questions.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “You seem like you’re more than just a digger,” Zane said.

  Dickles frowned warningly.

  Zane held up both hands apologetically and laughed “Now hold on. That’s not an insult. It’s what we call both miners and archaeologists. Noble professions. Not just anyone can do them. All I’m trying to say is, I think you’re here for more than just a paycheck.”

  “That’s what you think?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “So what do you think I’m here for besides exotics?” Dickles asked.

  “Have you ever heard of the Heart Stone of Glakridoz?”

  Dickles allowed the moment to grow tense, expecting the man to shift nervously and make apologies. The staring match only seemed to strengthen the stranger’s resolved. “No. But wouldn’t it be on…whatever planet you just said?”

  Zane smiled. “It would have been if some filthy animal hadn’t stolen it and hidden it on the most distant and remote planet it could find.”

  “Animal? Never heard of an animal stealing much besides food. And where would it put this Heart Stone if it did take it? Stop wasting my time, Zane whatever your name is.”

  “Trustman. Zane Trustman.”

  “Sounds like a made up name. If you bother me again, or talk to my crew without my permission, you’ll find out about security,” Dickles said.

  Zane made a show of looking around. “Now I’m scared. Wouldn’t want some SagCon hired gun to put the habeas-grab-ass on me. I’ve been here a while and haven’t seen much in the way of security to impress me.”

  “I’ll let Sheriff Fry know you said that.”

  The man snorted. “All I hear about is Sheriff Thaddeus Fry this and Sheriff Thaddeus Fry that.”

  “Hear about him all you want, but you don’t want to meet him. Not if you’re going to act like a jackass. I’d stay away from his deputy and his pig-dog, if I were you.”

  “Did you say…pig-dog?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Thaddeus Fry walked with his head down. He watched his boots scuff across the Ungwilook dust covering the road. The date with Shaunte had started rough, then got rougher when he walked her home. She was so damn opinionated and headstrong.

  Which was why he loved her. Strong women made life worth living.

  He smiled. Things had improved when he kissed her good night, picking her up off her feet to keep her from darting inside. She’d been angry at first, but was even angrier when he tried to put her down.

  “Don’t you manhandle me, Thaddeus Fry” had become “Don’t stop, you big, beautiful brute!” She seemed to revel in his confusion. That was the way it was going to be, a twenty-four/seven game of mental chess. This was one game he didn’t mind losing, although he would never lose on purpose. He needed to up his game. And he found that he enjoyed holding Shaunte in his arms.

  The memory warmed him on his nightly rounds.

  He stopped at the corner and looked around, forcing himself to be aware of his surroundings. Darklanding actually felt safe compared to Centauri Prime. He’d spent enough time here to understand
the difference was in quality not quantity. A place like this was full of surprises.

  Some of them, like Shaunte Plastes, were happy surprises.

  It was good to be back. In time, he would learn how to be the partner that Shaunte deserved.

  “You are not remaining situationally aware,” came the voice of Mast Jotham. Maximus followed, looking back over his shoulder several times.

  “Is there something wrong with Maximus?”

  “He is muchly behaving strangely since we followed the suspicious mope to his darkly ominous hideout,” Mast said.

  Thaddeus scratched behind the animal’s ears.

  Max made a purring noise full of clicks and grunts.

  “What’s with all the clicking? I haven’t heard you make that noise since we saw Stacy Rings and his band of outlaws,” Thaddeus said.

  Mast made an inquisitive face. “I have only recently heard this disturbing sound from the filthy animal.”

  Maximus looked offended. “Snort, snort, snort!”

  “I do not mean you are actually filthy. It is an endearment. Like when I say, hello, you filthy Sheriff Fry,” Mast said.

  Maximus made a series of grunts and huffs that resembled laughter.

  “Not funny,” Thaddeus said.

  “A little bit funny?” Mast asked. “But the pig-dog is why I’m here seeking to talk to you very muchly. He’s been behaving strangely since we followed the mope.”

  “Did you just use a contraction?”

  Mast raised his hands defensively. “I certainly hope not and muchly apologize!”

  Thaddeus shook his head and chuckled. “Relax, Mast. I was just noticing that your use of Galactic Standard is improving.”

  “I do not understand how butchering the language is speaking it betterly, but never mind. Maximus is acting very strange and will not sleep by himself. How did you tolerate him when you went on the Centauri Prime mission?”

  Thaddeus shrugged.

  “I have thought many times of the war. We are buddies. You should get drunk and tell me about it,” Mast said.

  “Not going to happen. No offense.” Thad pulled his hat down tighter and made a show of looking around as though checking the area for lawbreakers. “Tell me about this character you’ve been so obsessed with.”

  “But we have not seen him since he went into the dark building with no lights. You are probably wanting to tell me many buildings seem dark, yet have light someplace within—reflecting their glow through windows and doorways in subtle ways. But this building was truly dark. I did not like the way it made me feel when I stared at it.”

  Thaddeus waited for more.

  “Before he hid himself away, I heard him speak. He speaks better Unglok than any human I’ve encountered. I almost believe that he is not truly human.”

  Thaddeus shook his head. “Don’t start with conspiracy theories. Aliens that look like humans are extremely rare.”

  “You have been very diligently studying our language and cannot speak it hardly at all. Your Unglok is mostly worse than my Galactic Standard.”

  “True.”

  “Snort. Snort. Snort.”

  Thaddeus ruffled the fur of Maximus’s neck. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “I muchly believe you should take this suspicious mope seriously,” Mast said in ponderous tones.

  Thaddeus nodded, but focused on Maximus. Dropping to one knee, he held the animal by its face and looked into its eyes. “Are you trembling?”

  Maximus pulled away indignantly, snorting and making strange clicking sounds deep in its throat.

  Concerned for the Glakridozian, Thaddeus followed. Mast also became alarmed.

  “He muchly made these clicking sounds when we were following the suspiciously creeping mope,” Mast said. “You must endeavor to learn who this character is and put a stop to whatever nefarious schemes he has hatched in his strangely dark hideout.”

  “Sure, Mast. I’ll check it out. Right now, I’m worried about this filthy creature. I think he’s sick.” Thaddeus was following his animal friend when he realized it’d been a while since Maximus farted. “Something’s definitely not right with you.”

  “Snort.”

  “Maximus really doesn’t like the stranger,” Mast said.

  Thad shook his head. “Maximus doesn’t really like anyone, grumpy beast.”

  “But this stranger is not like any I have seen. He speaks our language perfectly and I suspect, for reasons I do not fully understand, that he speaks other languages with equal fluency. He has a look of a star traveler, someone who has been many places and not for good purposes.”

  Thaddeus gave Maximus one last look, then put his hat back on. He faced his deputy. “I’ll be honest, Mast, this character of yours is more likely a traveling anthropologist than a criminal. He’s probably working on a thesis paper or something.”

  “You learned this intuition during your very long law enforcement career?”

  “The criminals in Darklanding are brutes like Dregg or Ike. They don’t speak seventeen languages or command mysterious forces of darkness. I’ll find this cat and shake him down,” Thad said, more than a little annoyed at Mast’s crack about his law enforcement experience.

  “I did not say he spoke seventeen languages. And why are we looking for a cat?”

  “It’s a figure of speech. I meant the stranger you’re so obsessed with.”

  Mast frowned and rubbed his chin. “So a human is a cat? This does not muchly make sense. And why would you shake him, cat or human or whatever you wish to call him today in your strange manufactured dialect of Galactic Standard?”

  “I’m going to shake you in about five seconds,” Thad said. They walked in silence, watching the pig-dog. Mast fell into deep contemplation. Maximus stopped frequently to look around, about as paranoid as an animal could be. Thaddeus was about to say something about the animal’s behavior when his deputy held up one finger as though experiencing a revelation.

  “Ah, yes. I have remembered many references to cats from human literature. There are cool cats, alley cats, and internet cats of all shapes and sizes. I do not think the suspicious speaker of Unglok is a cool cat. This implies he perhaps plays jazz music or reads poetry in trendy coffee shops. No, no. This stranger is muchly dangerous.”

  “I said I’ll look into it. If he’s a bad poet, I’ll lock him up.”

  “I suspect that is a joke. Poetry intrigues me. I should study poetry!”

  Thaddeus grabbed him by the arm. “No, Mast. Please don’t.”

  “You would muchly like my poetry.”

  “I’ve killed people for less.”

  “Ah, but have you killed your best friend for less?”

  “I need a drink. And I’m not dignifying that with an answer.”

  ***

  Shaunte looked good, as always. She’d chosen a simple blouse, straight black slacks, and slim leather boots today. Her skin glowed with vitality despite the crushing responsibility for Darklanding’s future. She ignored him longer than usual when he walked in unannounced. He wasn’t sure if she had bothered with makeup today. When she did, he could never see what she had changed from her natural look. She’d probably look good rolled in wet sand or covered in grime from one of the mines. All he knew was that she was becoming his new definition for feminine beauty no matter what state she was in.

  “You’re quiet today,” she said without looking up.

  “I can’t stare at you while you work?”

  “You’re the sheriff. I suppose you can do whatever you want.” Her fingers flew over the digital keyboard on her desk. She paused, dropping her hands to her lap to look at him. Her shoulders fell slightly and he thought it was cute. “Sorry. How’s the war on crime, Thaddeus?”

  “I have two unsolved vandalisms, probably kids’ graffiti or something done by drunkards. Hard to say. We have too many out-of-work miners, both juvenile and adults. Mast and I arrested three for larceny, one for an attempted burglary—that’s a pret
ty good story if you have time, but I doubt you do. We busted that one red-handed.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have time for every little detail. It is good to see you, though. I should probably take a break.”

  Thaddeus watched her and knew she wasn’t going to take a break. Her eyes were already reaching for the screen and whatever she was reading there—probably financial reports or memos from important people in the SagCon hierarchy. It was easy to forget she spent most of her time on this type of business, grinding it out day after day, keeping Darklanding viable. Her income was secure, part of some type of deal he’d rather not know about. No one questioned it. It made sense that the Company Man was above the trials and tribulations of survival on this frontier world.

  His stomach rumbled. Shaunte didn’t notice. She was typing again.

  He pulled out his data tablet and transferred his reports to her workstation. Her eyes flickered to one corner of the screen when she got the alert, then she was back at her statistical analysis.

  “You should be glad this isn’t part of your job. Sometimes I wonder if I should be the sheriff. Knocking people in the head and yelling at them sounds like a dream job compared to this,” she said as she typed.

  “Have you thought about voice dictation? Perhaps hire an assistant.” Thad leaned back, holding his hat in his left hand as he looked around the room.

  “I can’t use voice dictation when I have a visitor. No offense. I really should stop working on this. We should talk. I should take a break and we should have lunch.”

  Thaddeus watched her work for several minutes.

  She looked up. “I hope I’m not keeping you from anything important.”

  “Right now, I’m guarding the Company Man. Tough job, but someone has to do it.”

  She smiled fleetingly. “Then I must be the safest woman in Darklanding.” She walked to a coffee machine and poured two cups, handed one to Thad, and sat down behind her desk. “P. C. Dickles just sent me his daily report. The shipments are down. I know he’s doing his best, but something has to change. If we don’t get it together, I’m afraid a SagCon rival will buy out the operation and change everything.”