Logbook entry

Trail's End

29 Dec 2017Greybeard LXI
(Trying out this new Pilot Log AutoRecorder thing. It may not be legal, but I suspect I’ve missed clues when too much happens at once for me to remember. I’ll have to edit it a bit so it looks readable.)

I was sitting at the counter flirting with the bar maid when she walked in and sat next to me – slid between my chair and the next one, bumped me with her hip and sat down. When I looked at her she smiled and said “Hey, spacer, buy a girl a drink?”

It was a little hole in the wall in the bad section of Patterson Enterprise, Sirius. It was typical of the joints there: not much bigger than a Type-6’s cockpit – just a counter with a bar maid on one side and a couple chairs on the other, no cleaner than the board of health required. The big entertainment was wagering on tic-tack-toe, a drink against the bar maid’s “personal services.”

I told her “That’s an original line.”

“Well, it might work on someone that’s lost as many games as you have. Have you even won one?”

“I think it’s rigged. But the ladies seem happier when I throw a game now and then.

“Have you been watching me?”

The bar maid interrupted: “Frankie and Johnny always want to know what’s happening on their turf.”

“I think you’re looking for something. Maybe I can help,” Frankie said resting her hand on my forearm. “Or maybe my friend can,” she continued flicking her eyes toward the man at the far end of the bar.

I described Penny and said that was my type.

Frankie’s eyes lost their sparkle, and her smile seemed a bit more fixed. “With an Imperial accent, like yours?”

I nodded, and her smile vanished. “Why?”

This was the best lead I had so far in Sirius. But I hesitated… the Sirius Silver Mafia, like all pirate clans, had its secrets and could play rough. And there were two of them, not counting the bar maid, and only one of me, in their territory.

The bar maid piped up: “They won’t roll you. They’re not like Elephant.”

My head snapped to look at her, dumbfounded.

Frankie stood up and grabbed my hand. “Let’s have a little talk, someplace more comfortable.”

Johnny was also on his feet, one hand hidden in his jacket.

“OK,” I gulped and gave the bar maid a tip. “Where to?”

“How about you buy me a nice meal while we talk?”

“Where’s good around here?”

“No place around here. I know a nice steak house near the passenger terminal.”

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The steak house was a nice place. The walls, and booths were faux wood – plastic with wood grain in a rich brown. Decorations were something out of an old western movie. The lighting was a subdued, but each booth had a mini-spot we could adjust if we needed more light to read the menu. The table service was real china and the silver was hefty metal wrapped in a real cloth napkin. Could have been romantic with the right company.

We got to the steak house before rush hour, there were only three or four other tables occupied. Frankie and I got a table set away from the few other patrons. Johnny followed us in and sat at the bar. The table of Sirius Corp Security kept a discrete eye on us.

I was a lot more comfortable here, not just because the seats were sitting, not counter, height and padded. Being where security patrolled outside the Mafia’s turf was reassuring.

I told Frankie that Penny was my sister and I described my search for her and how I wound up on Patterson Station. I showed her a video of twelve year old Penny laughing and saying “Gimme, it’s mine!” while jumping up and down trying to reach the hair dryer I was holding out of her reach.

Frankie pushed my data slate back across the table to me and said: “I can tell you the story of her time on Patterson Station for 100 bucks: half now, half after you confirm it.”

After I passed across the 50 bucks she continued.

“Elephant was a small time hood, mostly a numbers runner, with delusions of grandeur. He was sent on a courier run and came back with Penny. The customs officer was suspicious of her paperwork and he had to grease some palms to get her in. I guess her imperial passport said she was an i-slave so she needed a fake one.

“Elephant thought he’d made it big as a pimp because he had one whore.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m just calling an atmospheric converter an atmospheric converter.

“He used her for the rough trade. Sometimes she came back so roughed up she couldn’t work for a week.

“And sometimes Elephant rolled the John.

“One night, a couple months ago, the John was too rough. He passed Elephant a CMG and started to work on Penny. By the time Elephant heard the screams and got in the room it was too late for her. Elephant finished off the John and was just taking his wallet when security came in. Someone else had heard the screams too.

“Elephant was convicted of murder, slavery and robbery. He got off the bribery charge by turning in the customs officer that let him in. Squealing carries the death penalty around here.

“You can talk to Security about the case, and a DNA match should prove your sister was the victim. They would probably like her real name to clear the records.”

I passed over the other 50 bucks. To her raised eyebrow I replied: “You wouldn’t have given me a story that easy to check if it wouldn’t check out.”

The salad was pretty good, but for some reason by the time I got to the steak I was unable to enjoy it.
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