Sky-Reflecting Violets
05 Sep 2021Val Karad
'Seek on high bare trailssky-reflecting
violets...
Mountain-top jewels'
I was putting Basho's words to a tune you once hummed to me, as I watched my pursuer's ship landing outside. A Krait Phantom, hull dull-grey and olive, nonreflective in the noon sun. Near enough to see spinning motes of sand and dust as the landing gear touched down, but far enough from this isolated hab module that I could not hear its impact; only the faint whir of the thrusters powering down.
I leaned back and watched a figure disembark, walking gracefully and with purpose across the hard-scrabble flats I had chosen for this meeting. Last stand. Whatever it was going to be.
I was prepared for any event. This ship had shadowed me at least since Kuwembaa. If it were one of our old Black Widow brothers or sisters, they would have taken their shot in space by now; none would dare try me planetside. And at any rate, those debts have been settled.
The only notion that held weight would be that it was some agent of the Proactive Detection Bureau or Federal Intelligence. You and I chose to fight on the side of independence from the Federation, almost from the moment we left the web of the Black Widow. For me, it was enough just to fight by your side.
Yet, still...I wasn't convinced. The PDF or FedInt would have tried to get lost when they realized they were made; much less when I actually contacted my pursuer.
Yeah, I used one of your old tricks. I bounced scrambled long range static and a series of old Smugglers' Cant codes to spike into the Phantom's transponder from a compromised nav beacon. That led my pursuer here, to Gurney Slade 3 and the coordinates of this old hab in the barren wastes. The log entries you left told me of this place, and others like it.
I leaned against the wall tapping my thumb on the loaded Tormentor on my hip. The hab-lock closed after the figure. A man, I could see now that his helmet was off. Pale skin, pale eyes, short neatly-cut platinum hair. A long, clean scar from the top of his nose to his upper right jaw. My age or just a little older. I could see no weapons on his person but I have not lived even as long as I have by dropping my guard. Or at least with anyone but you.
"Jericho Rolkein," he said, grinning.
"I've heard of you," which was true.
"Good, bad, or ugly?"
"Rolkein killed a hundred people out in Colonia, avenging some slight or another." Spacer barroom tales.
"The truth of the matter is that I was denied payment for services rendered on several consecutive occasions by the Colonial ICU."
"The commies in Colonia? You did tickets for them?!?!"
"Yes, I was a mercenary then, just as you are now. And it was not revenge, as such. I figured how much money I was owed, multiplied it by three, and evaluated the cost, plus damages and expenses, due me by negligence of the Colonial ICU. When that amount was satisfied, the job was done."
"But 100 people?"
"No, several dozen. And other various and sundry assets." He was no longer grinning; lost in thought but a moment. Calculating costs.
"What do you want from me. You've been following me since Kuwembaa." It's always best to get to the point.
"Since Azaladshu, actually. In fact, a little before. And to be fair, I was following your ship. Ms. Lazaro's ship."
"Silent Partner is my ship now." My throat was tight.
"What happened to her?" He spoke gently.
"An accident. A miscalculation. Misjump." I couldn't bring myself to say more.
Jericho stood quietly still at the window, scanning the stark and barren hills that seemed much nearer than they really were.
It was I who broke the silence.
"So you're PDF. You were looking for her." I would have killed him, if he had tried to take you. If you were still here to to be taken.
"Calliope Lazaro, Smuggler Queen. Black Widow renegade. Plunderer of Jura Laima... and wanted terrorist," he said, as if by rote.
I was now past him, almost to the door. He would either let me go, or he would shoot me in the back. I didn't care at the moment.
" 'Your father was a builder. His father was a builder. Don't you want to build something, too' " He was saying your words to me.
I stopped cold.
"What did you say?"
"I'm not PDF, Mr. Karad. Calliope told me about you. Some. She believed you were more than just a drinking, gambling mercenary ronin. She was capable of many things, but she did not lie. At least, not well. I've seen you fight clear-headed and without fear. These are things we need. And we are building something, and you can be a builder, too."
"Who are you with?"
"Albion Interstellar. We are building something. Your lover Calliope...Calliope was my friend. She was coming to help us build a better future than the one set before us by the powers that be." He turned and met my gaze. He was sincere. I could see in that moment that he loved you, too.
"You are free to choose your path now, and you will always be free to do so, if you decide to join us."
He turned back to the window and pointed to the sky between a jagged cleft in the time-worn hills, continuing,
"But if you're dead set against meeting the PDF, I suggest we leave now and continue this discussion in another place, at another time."
Two sets of lights set pin-pricked against the thin blue afternoon haze, descending on the near side of the crags.
