What Goes Around...
04 Jan 2019Kodeyne
Kodeyne sat back in her chair on the bridge of Falling Angel and blew out a sharp breath, then grinned. Travelling to Sothis had definitely been a good plan. She had just cashed in a mission that had paid four-and-a-half million credits. She brought up the screen with her balance on it, just to make sure she hadn't imagined it. Nope. She had rapidly achieved allied status with Sirius Corp, and had access to the Sirius system itself. Her Federation ranking was edging its way up. Things were, as they say, looking rosy. She knew she would have to travel back to the bubble soon; she had gathered enough materials to visit some of the enigmatic Engineers and have the Python upgraded.
Oh, yes.
She stretched and slowly clambered out of the seat. Lucrative as the past days had been, she hadn't left the ship at all. Despite her increasing distrust of people in general, she was getting cabin fever and needed even just an hour outside. A decent cup of coffee was what she wanted right now. Switching the ship to standby mode, she rolled her shoulders and set out in search of a cafe.
A quiet place with gentle lighting and muted full-wall screens depicting a changing montage of terrestrial scenes. Sipping a big mug of americano with an extra shot of espresso, nibbling on a wonderfully squishy chunk of fruit flapjack, she was able to drift into a reverie.
The flapjack was finished, the coffee two-thirds gone, when she became aware of a movement behind her. She did not look round, presuming it was one of the cafe staff.
"Commander Myshkin?" A male voice, cultured Federation accent. She froze, her daydream dissolved and her hands tensed on the mug. But she did not respond.
"Commander Ophelia Myshkin? Or perhaps I should say, 'Kodeyne'?"
She swallowed, wet her lips.
"And...what if I am?" She replied in a low voice. Her heart started to pound as anxiety kicked in. There was movement again and a middle-aged man, round of face but not fat, grey hair combed neatly, wearing a smart suit, appeared in her vision and sat down opposite her. He carefully placed his phone on the tabletop and tapped the screen.
"Ms Myshkin, my name is Cornelius Monfort. Private investigator. I'm currently trying to track down a missing person, name of Alison Keenan. She was last seen in your company aboard Mars High, Sol system."
Kodeyne did not reply. She took a mouthful of coffee and gazed levelly at Monfort over the rim of the mug. He raised an eyebrow.
"There is verified security camera footage of the two of you together. Ms Keenan boarded your ship and has not been seen since."
"Private investigator?" she asked, glancing at the phone. Recording the conversation....
He nodded.
"You're not Federal Security Service?"
"I think you've worked that one out, Commander."
"Then I don't have to tell you a damn thing, Mr Monfort." She finished the coffee and stood up to leave. She had taken three steps when he spoke again, softly.
"Kidnapping is still a serious crime, Commander. Perhaps you would like to talk to the FSS about that?"
She shook, trying to get a grip on herself, resisting the temptation to go for her knife. There was a clunk behind her. Turning slowly, she saw he had laid a second phone on the table, a silver oval with a shattered case. "This was found in the ship storage facility at Mars High, Ms Myshkin. Taking someone's only means of communication would seem a first logical step when abducting them, no?" She returned to the table, placed both hands on the table top and nodded at his phone.
"Turn that off, please," she said quietly.
"Not in my interests to do so," he replied.
"If you want any information from me, you turn it off."
They stared at each other. He lowered his gaze. "Ms Myshkin...don't you think Alison's parents deserve to know what has happened to her?" His gaze, now intense, locked back with hers.
Kodeyne straightened up. Her mind churned.
"She's safe. She had some very unpleasant problems in her life, and needed to get away. She asked me to help her, and I did."
Monfort nodded slowly. "What kind of problems?"
"I'm...not at liberty to say, Mr Monfort."
"Really? That doesn't really help your case, you know."
She leaned forward again. "Mr Monfort. You say you are working on behalf of Miss Keenan's parents. But how do I know that for sure? There are other people out there who would like to know where she is. Bad people." She took a shuddering breath. "Alison is an old and very dear friend of mine. I wasn't about to leave her up to her neck in deep shit!"
"Understood," he said, "Ms Myshkin...I can't force you to trust me. But I'm being paid to find out where Miss Keenan is, and you are the only one, it seems, who knows."
"And I'm not able to tell you, Mr Monfort. Simply because I have to protect her."
He let out a sigh. "I knew this one wasn't going to be straightforward," he said, half to himself. That alone made Kodeyne break into a smile.
"Not for either of us," she said, "I move around a lot, Mr Monfort. But I guess you've got a ship that can keep up?"
"Yes. DBEx, actually."
"Nice. You going to follow me if I head out into the black?"
"Might do. Exploration is my sideline when PI work is short..."
She grinned at him. "But I guess you like the challenge of PI work....exploration is fucking tedious, isn't it?"
He smiled back. "Got it in one, Commander." He tapped his phone again, and stowed it and the broken one away. He rose. "Ms Myshkin, I appreciate you probably don't like me very much right now. I have no malice whatsoever towards you. But I think, at least, we understand each other?"
She nodded.
"Then I'll let you go on your way," he said, "and no doubt I'll see you soon."
Kodeyne inclined her head, spun on her heel and left.
"Great," she muttered as she headed to the docking ring, "something else to worry about. I knew things were going too well..." She entered the hanger and grinned up at the brightly-painted Falling Angel. "But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, huh?" She boarded the elevator on the front landing gear, toggled the controls and rode the platform up into the ship. Back on the bridge, she began to scan the mission boards for work. She didn't hate Monfort, she realised; he was just doing his job. But she was very suspicious of who was employing him.
She stopped and stared out of the cockpit window. "Works both ways, doesn't it?" she said out loud, "maybe - if it's the case - he can lead me to the bastard who raped Ali..."
She drew the Fairbairn-Sykes knife and held it up, turning it slowly, watching the light gleam on the blade.
"And maybe I will get to cut him open after all."