The Olive Grove - "Breadcrumbs"
08 Mar 2018Jemine Caesar
Whenever she was on duty at the reception podium in The Olive Grove, Suki Hai was the very picture of tranquillity. Serenely diligent, studiously efficient, extremely polite and courteous, and never to be seen without a smile on her face.She was not smiling now.
“You are too slow!” she barked as she paced the floor of the gym. “Your uke is too wide. Your eyes and your tachi betray your intentions. Do it again!”
Jemine Caesar, breathing heavily and muttering under her breath, readied herself for another attempt. It had been almost three months since she’d asked Suki to teach her the art of tensatsuken. Their daily hour-long sessions after work had given Jemine the basic moves, but there was still much to learn, much to improve upon.
“I’ll never be as good at this as you, sensei,” she said.
“If that is what you truly believe,” replied Suki, “then you have already forfeited the battle. Self-doubt is the greatest enemy of all. Do not abandon hope, or your fear will consume you from within. Now, do it again!”
Once outside of the gym, Suki reverted to her usual demure self. The awkward moment of transition from harsh taskmistress to deferential employee never failed to amuse Jemine. On several occasions since her training had begun, Jemine had been compelled to tell her sensei not to apologise for pushing her so hard. After three months of working and training with Suki, Jemine had come to regard the woman as more than a mere employee. She had become a good and trusted friend.
Sam was at the apartment to greet Jemine later. Much of his time was spent off station in his ship, running cargo or ferrying tourists. When on Citi Gateway he liked to lend a hand at The Olive Grove, despite his frequent clashes of personality with the Bar Manager, Cee Klover.
“How was Keep-Fit?” he asked as Jemine slumped herself down on the sofa.
“Tiring,” she replied. “I ache in places I thought it wasn’t possible to have aches.”
“Don’t you think,” said Sam, “that you could go less often? Dropping dead from exhaustion is hardly the idea of Keep-Fit, after all.”
“Oh, Sam! It’s not going to come to that! I just want to stay in shape, that’s all.”
“I have no objections to your shape as it is, my love.” Sam wrapped his arms around her. “And how was work?”
Jemine heard the slight undertone of disapproval in Sam’s voice at the word ‘work’. Her boyfriend had never really become entirely comfortable with the idea of Jemine being the proprietress of a pleasure house, though he was slowly coming round to it.
“Busy, as usual,” replied Jemine. “I had a visit from an Inara Nexus Health and Safety Inspector today. Wanted to give The Olive Grove a thorough going over, just to ensure everything complies with hygiene standards. It’s a new regulation, apparently. They have to do a site inspection of pleasure houses once every six months.”
“I see,” Sam said, quietly. “And, er... did he, umm... did he seem satisfied, this inspector?”
“He was a ‘she’,” Jemine said. “And yes, she was very happy with what she saw.”
Jemine smiled warmly at her boyfriend. She wondered, and not for the first time, whether Sam suspected her of taking a more active role in The Olive Grove than simply being its owner and manager. One day, she thought, I’ll tell him his suspicions were sometimes correct.
“And I’ve got another inspector coming to see me tomorrow,” she continued. “Well, later today, really, since it’s already after midnight. This one’s from the HIP 108828 Trade Commission.”
“Why in the name of Gaia would they want to send an inspector to The Olive Grove?”
“Search me,” replied Jemine. “I’ll find out at nineteen hundred. Right now, though, I think I’ll go and have a lie down. I think I’m starting to get a bit of a headache.”
The headaches, niggling little pains worming through her temples, had been coming and going for several weeks now. Jemine was quite certain they were due to the stress of running The Olive Grove. She hadn’t told Sam about them, because she knew he would fuss unduly, and she didn’t want him to fuss. She’d see a doctor if they went on much longer, she promised herself.
She opened the drawer of her dressing table and took out a small brown bottle. Removing the cap, she tipped out two white capsules, popped them into her mouth, and swallowed. Then, turning off the room lights, she lay on the bed and tried to sleep.
*****
Corvallu Ibara, Deputy Inspector for the HIP 108828 Trade Commission, was a tall, athletically built woman in her twenties, with an intense, calculating look in her eyes. She arrived punctually at The Olive Grove for her appointment, and wasted no time in getting down to the purpose of her visit.
“Miss Caesar, we have a problem in HIP 108828, and we believe you may be able to help us. Have you ever heard of a paramilitary organization called Black Omega?"
Jemine blinked, startled by the question. She admitted that, yes, she had heard of them, back when she’d been a pilot doing cargo runs in Pegasi.
Corvallu explained that a number of ships belonging to Black Omega had been attacked in HIP 108828. Examinations carried out on the vessels had shown that each one had been carrying cryogenic pods at the time of the attack.
“I’m not at liberty to go into details,” she said, “but we came across an encoded message in one of the wrecks. The message led us to a storage facility here in Inara, where we found over three hundred lifepods, occupied and intact. The message also contained a name. Your name, Miss Caesar.”
“My name? But... I don't understand... What was my name doing there?"
"The cryo-pods were fitted with coded lock-outs,” said Corvallu, “preventing us from reviving the occupants safely. As it turned out, your name was the pass-key. We believe that all of this— the code, the pods, your name— was meant to be found. The question is by whom?"
Corvallu produced a dataslate from her bag, and showed Jemine an image of what appeared to be animal-like claw marks, slashed into a metal bulkhead.
“We found these markings on each of the attacked vessels, almost like a calling card. Given the particular shape of the marking, we think the person who made it has some sort of prosthetic arm."
Things suddenly began falling into place in Jemine’s mind. Looted Black Omega ships... claw marks made by a prosthetic arm... her name in the coded message. It all pointed to one man. It had to be.
Stryker Aune. The man who had left her unable to bear children. He’d been acting under orders from Marrakech Morgan, but he had done the deed. And Jemine hated him for it.
"'Meant to be found...'" repeated Jemine. That puzzled her. If Aune was deliberately leaving what could only be regarded as clues, then it surely implied that he himself wanted to be found. And inserting her name in his trail of breadcrumbs further implied that Aune was reaching out to her personally.
He wants me to know he’s responsible for these attacks against Black Omega. He's trying to tell me he's sorry. He’s seeking forgiveness for ruining my life. For destroying my dreams...
She rose and, touching a hand to her stomach, turned to gaze at the landscape picture behind her desk. "This person you're looking for... what will happen to him - or her - when you find them?"
Corvallu shrugged. “There’d be a trial, of course. If found guilty, the sentence could be anything from a few years in a prison colony to life.” Her tone hardened. “Is there something you would like to share with me, Miss Caesar?"
Jemine bit her lip. She owed no favours to Stryker Aune, not after what he did to her. If he wanted to be found and punished, then so be it. Her forgiveness, however, was another matter entirely. After a brief hesitation, she sat back down and tapped the desktop, then nodded towards the large holo-screen on the wall.
"This is recorded security footage from The Olive Grove's bar," she said. "It’s time stamped at 21:46 on November the twenty eighth last year. You see those three men chatting at the bar? From what you've told me, I think it's likely that one of them may be the person you're looking for."
Corvallu watched the footage carefully. “The big fella with the prosthetic arm,” she said. “Do you know who he is?”
Jemine nodded. “His name is Aune. Stryker Aune. As I say, he may be the one you're after. I have no proof that he is, but with one thing and another..."
"Any idea where we could find him?"
Lost in thought, Jemine touched one hand to her stomach. She remained silent for several seconds, then blinked as her attention returned to the present.
"What? Oh... no, I have no idea where he could be. I only saw him once more after that-" she waved towards the holo-screen, "-about a week later, in fact. He was outside the InGaBa, arguing with some other fella. Perhaps he knows where Stryker is. Or maybe one of the two men who were here with him might know."
Corvallu nodded. “Any information you have on those two would be helpful."
Jemine tapped her desktop, bringing up the names and images of each visitor as they had arrived at reception. After several seconds she found what she was looking for.
"There they are,” she said, “on the screen. Their names are Adam Firethorn and..."
Jemine blinked. She’d paid no attention to Aune’s companions that night, when she’d ordered him out of The Olive Grove. Now she realised, with a start, that she’d met one of them before...
"...and Phisto Sobanii. Of course, people come and go here all the time, Inspector Ibara. I don't know whether the three of them already knew one another. They may have just met for the first time and got chatting. About their ships, probably."
"Boys and their toys,” said Corvallu, with a thin smile. “Could you let me have a copy of that footage?”
“Of course.”
Jemine reached into a drawer and took out a datachip. Inserting it into an interface on her desk, she made a copy of the security cam footage and handed it to the investigator. After thanking Jemine for her time and her cooperation, Corvallu Ibara went on her way.
Several minutes passed as Jemine replayed the interview in her mind. She remembered the haunted expression on Aune’s face when she had told him he was not welcome in The Olive Grove. He’d said nothing in reply, merely leaving in a silent, detached melancholy.
Jemine tapped the desktop button which opened the concealed door leading to her private bedchamber. She walked in, the door sliding shut behind her. After removing her jacket and shoes, she lay on the four poster bed, rested her hands on her stomach...
...and fell asleep.
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Author's Note:
Thank you to Stryker Aune for the RP with his character, Corvallu Ibara, on which this entry is based.
Thanks also to Sam Hodkin, Adam Firethorn and Phisto Sobanii for their contributions.