Personal Log 99: 22nd - 28th February, 3302
10 Oct 2016Jemine Caesar
22nd - 28th February, 3302 The beauty treatments at Shelley's of Stevenson were a little on the expensive side, but well worth it. Sarah, Jenna and I had our bodies gently pummelled in a low-g massage, our faces covered in jelly and invigorated by a 1.5g spin in a centrifuge, and our cares soaked away in a luxurious tub of dermasite. We left the salon feeling decidedly wobbly at the knees.
"Girls," I said, "it's Sam's birthday tomorrow. I'd like to give him a fun present. Any ideas?"
Jenna and Sarah exchanged a quick glance, then linked arms with me. "Come on," said Jenna. "We know just the thing!"
I smiled when I saw what they had in mind. "It's perfect!" I said.
After saying farewell to Sarah and Jenna, I took my purchase back to The Last Thing, changed into my flightsuit and checked the bulletin board. A coffee delivery to L26-27 was on offer, so I loaded up and set off. After a brief battle with a Novice-rated pilot in an Imperial Courier, I delivered the coffee to the Aldrin Colony military outpost and collected my 12000CR payment. I also accepted two separate contracts to deliver food cartridges to Lopu Maris and Minmar, as well as a consignment of copper to Scori.
While in transit to these systems, I received a k-cast from Sam.
"Greetings from Turir, my love!" he said. "I'm here with none other than your father. Your real father, that is."
I was taken aback by this. "What in the name of Gaia is he doing there?" I asked. "I thought he was still at Koyans."
Sam told me that my father had called him earlier, asking for help. "It was while you were at the beauty place," he added. "Your father was robbed yesterday, and threats made against him by some particularly nasty acquaintances of old. He decided now was a good time to leave Koyans."
Sam explained that my father was now living on Brooks Terminal, in the Turir system. There he had set up a jewellery repair business, using capital he had raised from selling some old blueprints he had forgotten he had. Blueprints of what, I had no idea; I didn't like to ask.
"He's bought himself an Adder, too," Sam continued. "We've just returned from a little trip to LTT 9156. I have to say, he's quite a pilot! I'm on my way back to Beta Hydri now, my darling. Wouldn't want to be away from home and family on my birthday."
*****
The next day, February 23rd, I woke early to take The Last Thing on a couple of courier runs. The first was to ferry tomatoes and potatoes to LHS 3836, and the second was a shipment of food cartridges to La Rochelle.
Sam had been right with his remarks about rare artwork. Another recovery mission was posted on the Shaver Dock board. I accepted it and headed for the salvage destination, LHS 2. This time I found seven canisters of artwork, and scooped them up to return to my employer.
On dropping into La Rochelle I was interdicted twice. The first was a Diamondback Scout flown by an Expert-rated pilot named Inge Mo. The second was one Vikki Louks, a Novice in a Sidewinder. By the grace of Gaia I managed to see off both attackers, and picked up 18000CR in bounties at Shaver Dock, in addition to the 13500CR from my employer. The remaining six canisters of art I had found brought in another 21000CR. I was curious to have a peek inside those canisters, but they were quickly moved to a secure area away from prying eyes.
I returned to Beta Hydri, and spent the rest of the day with Sam and his family to celebrate his birthday. When it was time for Sam and I to go back to our room, I told him to go on ahead.
"There's something I have to see to in The Last Thing," I said. That "something" was, of course, Sam's birthday present. Or part of it, at least.
A short time later I was standing outside our room. I hammered on the door, and called out, "Police! Open up!"
Sam opened the door, and I was gratified to see his eyes almost pop out of his head. As well they might, for I was dressed in an extremely short and sexy policewoman's uniform, visible black suspenders and stockings and, of course, my killer-heeled Lalande shoes. My makeup was pure slut, with scarlet lipstick, smoky eyeshadow, and liberal coatings of mascara. The long walk through the starport from the hangar deck had been interesting, to say the least.
I marched into the room as well as my shoes would allow.
"Are you Samuel Hodkin?" I demanded, striking a pose.
"Depends on what you plan to do," Sam replied, hastily closing the door again. I moved towards him, hips thusting, a sultry expression on my face.
"I might just have to take you in," I said. "For interrogation." I pressed my body violently against his. I didn't have to be a policewoman to detect Sam's interest was being aroused. "You better cooperate, mister!" I said, sliding one stockinged leg up and down his thigh. With Sam being so tall, this was no mean feat.
"I wouldn't dream of being uncooperative, officer," he replied.
I pressed my advantage. "I think you're guilty, mister," I said, in a raspy voice.
"Of what?" Sam asked, his eyes rather firmly fixed on my gaping cleavage. By now we were next to the bed. I let myself fall back onto it, pulling Sam down on top of me. I hadn't thought this bit through; he very nearly knocked the wind out of me with this maneouvre.
"What am I guilty of, officer?" Sam repeated, staring down into my eyes.
"You... are guilty," I answered, breathlessly, "of loving me."
Sam smiled, and said, "Guilty as charged." And then we kissed, deeply, passionately, lovingly. And the incredible, mind-blowing sex that followed was completely legal.
*****
The next day I found a message waiting for me on my dataslate. It was from commander Argent Steel. His message said that next time he was in Beta Hydri he'd like to buy me a drink. I tapped out a reply to him, saying that I would be delighted to meet up sometime.
Then it was back to business as usual. Sam went on a bounty hunting trip to L26-27, while I took on a contract to deliver a datachip to Arangorii. The delivery had to be made within thirty minutes.
On arrival at Shonin Station I duly made contact with the employer's representative. This was a rather unctuous man of about thirty, carrying an oversized dataslate and wearing a commbud in each ear. He grinned at me as I signed off the datawork.
"Thanks for bringing the chip, commander," he said. "I'm afraid that, owing to a legal technicality, you won't be getting paid. I'm so sorry." And with that he turned and strode off, tapping his dataslate. I just stood there, fuming silently. "Legal technicality" my arse!
Back on The Last Thing, I loaded up with marine agricultural equipment and took off for Beta Hydri. A k-cast came in from commander Aidan Venters. We chatted for a few minutes. Aidan lamented that his sister was still dating her "worthless boyfriend", and that things had not improved between him and his father.
"I've got some business to finish in Imperial space," Aidan said. "Then I'm thinking of heading over to Beta Hydri for a while. Maybe I'll see you there sometime?"
I assured him I would look forward to that.
At Stevenson Base I sold the marine equipment for a profit of 6000CR, and loaded up with assorted liquor to sell at Minmar. The profit on this was almost 4000CR. After a break for a snack at Bayliss Landing, it was time to return to Beta Hydri with the last trade run of the day; sixteen canisters of biowaste, which wouldn't bring in much, but it was better than going back with an empty hold.
As I crossed the system towards Stevenson Base I was attacked by a pirate named Ronathan Jeber. He was a Competent-rated pilot flying an Eagle. Despite his ship having better maneouvreability, I won the battle in next to no time, collecting 10000CR in bounty. Adding the meagre profit from the biowaste and the sale of some stellar cartography data, my total income for the day came to just under 25000CR.
I could feel a new pair of shoes coming on.
*****
The week continued in similar vein, as far as work was concerned; I delivered med samples and bananas to Lu Yupik and grain to LHS 531. I salvaged yet more artwork and some personal effects from ship destructions. And I carried a datachip to Lawd 13, only this time I made sure I was paid for it as well!
It was while I was signing off the digiwork at Lawd 13 that my dataslate beeped an incoming call. It was a commander who went by the callsign X-215. He was one of the first commanders I had friended on the Pilot's Federation social media after leaving home, though we hadn't spoken since. As we were now only a couple of jumps apart, we arranged to meet at Kappa Reticuli for a drink and a chat.
As luck would have it, Sam was already in that system, so we agreed to all get together at a bar on Smeaton Hub called The Shooting Star. I told X-215 that I'd be wearing a yellow dress.
X-215 was already waiting for us in the bar. He waved to us as we entered.
"Hello," I said, offering my hand in greeting. "I'm Jemine. This is Sam, my boyfriend."
X-215 shook hands with us. "My real name is Henry," he said. "I am pleased to meet you."
We ordered drinks and sat down to chat. Henry told us he was usually to be found in the vicinity of Cubeo, and owned a Hauler and a Corvette. Sam and Henry discussed the various merits of ships and their specifications. A lot of the technical stuff was over my head, so my contribution to the discussion was a little sparse. Nevertheless, the three of us passed a pleasant couple of hours. Henry was good company, and had obviously seen some facinating sights on his travels around the bubble.
Sam and I returned to Beta Hydri the next day. At Stevenson Base, as I was selling 38000CR worth of stellar cartography data, my comms panel beeped an incoming message. It was a notification from the Pilot's Federation, telling me I had achieved the explorer rating of Scout.
When I woke the next day, I found a note on the table; "Gone on a personal mission. Back later. Love you. Sam."
I wondered what sort of "personal mission" it could be, but I knew Sam would tell me everything when he returned. I sensed it would be unwise to try contacting him, so I busied myself with a little trading and courier work, including the aforementioned bananas delivery and personal effects salvage.
On my return to Stevenson Base, I found Sam pacing the floor of our room. "Sam?" I asked, concerned. "What's wrong?"
Sam sat down, a heavy frown on his face. "Jem," he began, "I've just been involved in one or two diplomatic quirks in the Empire. They led me to my old friend, Alec Russell!"
Sam had killed Russell earlier in the month, or so he had thought. "It turns out that he was in fact a clone," continued Sam. "But I got the real one this time, I'm certain of it. And Jem, listen to this... he confessed to the Harem murders!"
*****
"Jem," said Sam, clearly disturbed. "Jem, after all the lives I've had to end recently, am I... am I still a good man?"
The question took me completely by surprise. "You shouldn't have to ask that, Sam," I replied. "You know the truth."
Sam closed his eyes. "I know it's odd asking," he said, "but it's plagued me these past few days." He opened his eyes again and held my gaze, as if bracing himself for my answer.
"Don't forget who you're asking the question of," I said. "I'm hardly a shining example of goodness, given my past. But yes, Sam, I think you are a good man."
Then we hugged each other. Not out of love, but for want of support and... compassion. We held one another for several long minutes. Dear me, I thought to myself, this won't do.
"Let's go out somewhere," I said, trying to rally my spirits. "I'll check what's on." I tapped my dataslate to consult the Stevenson Base entertainments listings. "Ooh," I said, "do you like magic? I love magic! There's a magician on at the Stevenson Apollo. Can we go?"
Sam smiled and shrugged his agreement. Tapping my dataslate again, I booked two seats.
The Stevenson Apollo is a small theatre, typical of the type found on Coriolis starports. Cosy, intimate, with a friendly atmosphere. The magician was called Max Wonder. Certainly not one of the bubble's top names, but rather a touring performer looking for his big break. His tricks were ingenious, yet curiously rather old-fashioned. Sam seemed particularly impressed with the magician's assistant, a beautiful, leggy, buxom blonde.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen," announced Max Wonder at the start of the second act. "For my next amazing feat I require the assistance of a member of the audience."
My hand was up in a flash. The magician beckoned me to join him, and the 200-strong audience clapped as I walked on to the stage.
"Now," said Max Wonder. "In the old days magicians used to throw knives at their assistants. But this is the 34th century. We can do better than knives!"
With a flourish he pulled a cloth from a table, to reveal a pulse carbine rifle. He looked at me. "Miss...?" he began.
"Caesar," I answered. "Jemine Caesar."
He indicated the rifle. "Jemine," he said, "This is a pulse carbine rifle. Deadly, yet simple to use. Please pick up the rifle, examine it, assure yourself it's charged and ready to fire."
I did so.
"Now, Jemine," said the magician. "You will observe that my assistant is standing blindfolded at the far side of the stage. I want you to shoot at her head!"
I hesitated, and looked out at the audience. Sam was smiling broadly. I reminded myself that it was a magic act in a theatre. What could go wrong? I raised the rifle. A viewscreen to one side of the stage gave a rifle-barrel view as I aimed the weapon and fired...
*****
In the moments that followed, pandemonium broke loose. There were screams from the audience. People running everywhere. Sam was suddenly by my side on the stage. I stood, numbed with shock at what I had just seen.
For, slumped on the floor having been flung backwards by the blast, was the faceless body of the magician's assistant. Max Wonder, the magician, stepped forward.
"Arkady?" he whimpered. "What have I done?" Sam held him back, as the theatre security team took charge of the situation.
Arkady. The magician's assistant was called Arkady. With a sickening realisation, I turned to the distraught man in Sam's arms.
"Your assistant," I said to him. "What was her full name?"
The magician turned to me. "Arkady Winter, my wife. My real name is Mark Winter."
I knew what the answer to my next question was going to be. "What was her name before you were married?"
Winter collapsed to his knees. "Seldon," he replied. "She was Arkady Seldon. I met her at Frigaha."
I turned to speak to Sam, but a new commotion had suddenly erupted. Sam was now grappling with a man who had run on to the stage, intent, it seemed, on getting to the backstage area.
"Let me go, idiot!" he was saying, but Sam held on for all his worth.
"Maguire!" he was shouting, "I can't believe you're behind these murders!"
Maguire was the name of the mercenary leader Sam had recently told me about. He had offered the services of his team to protect the girls on the harem list.
After a few more protestations from Maguire, Sam released him. Maguire explained he had been working undercover for Admiral Remi, on the trail of a cell of Black Widow gang members.
"The man I was tailing was here in the audience," Maguire said. "Long gone, now," he added, ruefully.
"Sorry I got in your way, Dan," Sam said, sheepishly.
Maguire smiled. "No hard feelings, Sam," he said.
Later, back in our room, I picked up my dataslate and displayed the Harem list. Arkady Seldon of Frigaha was the ninth name on the list.
And I had just killed her.