 
An IMPORTANT Note on the Text

I began this novel as part of NaNoWriMo and put it up on Smashwords as a way of advertising that it was in the works. However, as December fell a number of things meant that I had to put finishing the novel on the backburner.

Between then and now a small number of groovy people, like your good self, have decided to download the book and so I found time to edit what I had.

I decided that the easiest way to complete the book was to release a part 2 rather than keep adding to the manuscript until it was finished.

Well, Part 2 is now available (there's a link to it at the end) and the first draft of Part 3 is close to completion.

Hope you enjoy what it is for now and if it interests you and you'd prefer to hold off until the novel is complete, I can suggest the TSAR Trilogy (now available as a box set with extras) set in the same Universe.

Peace

Dangerous

Pray for Rain

Part 1

The Casinos of Haffir

'Dangerous' Walker

Copyright Grahame Walker 2016

Published at Smashwords

PROLOGUE

By the time she had realised her mistake it was, as is so often the case, too late. Things had gotten real sketchy, real fast and none of her friends seemed to have noticed. Too many Chokdee cocktails, the only reason she was more sober was that she had vomited in the club's disgusting toilets.

When she'd come back from the toilets her friends were already talking to a group of four men. The image of them standing around the table laughing was jarring, but she couldn't quite place why. The men seemed out of place, though they didn't really look any different from the others in the club.

But.

But, something just didn't sit well with her. She wanted to say it was the whole vomiting thing, but she knew it wasn't. She walked back to the table, but no one noticed her. That was becoming more and more the norm. As if they invited her out of habit and then regretted it once they got to where they were going. As one of the men went off to buy more drinks she tried to say something to Sabrine, but she wouldn't come close enough for the other men not to hear. She got cross with her and moved away to talk with one of the men.

She considered trying to get everyone to go home, but she knew no one would have that, think she was a party pooper and, worse, if there was something up, tip off the men. The man came back and put a tray of drinks on the table and everyone took one. She didn't drink from hers as she worried it might be drugged. Oh, Gail, stop being silly, she told herself. What was the problem with nice men wanting to talk to them? Perhaps it was that she was getting the least attention and perhaps that was because she was being standoffish. She should try and make conversation.

"So," she shouted over the din, "what do you do?"

"Whaddaya mean?" the man shouted back.

"A job."

"What? Oh, you know."

"Well, no, that's why I asked," she grinned back.

"Yeah. I guess."

He turned and began talking to Veronica.

Fine.

She drank her drink, no longer worrying about it being spiked. It seemed she was being ignored, by the men and her friends. She looked around the club and then back at her own table. Her four friends were pretty, prettier than her, but she had to admit that none of them were that pretty. Not enough to really garner the attention of men. Not seriously. Drunken men will hit on anyone in clubs and they were no exception, but it seemed like these men would be looking elsewhere. Maybe they just knew they stood a better chance going middle-of-the-road. Maybe that was what was bugging her; why had these men chosen them?

Yes, that was it. These men seemed too good for them, too good for this place. They had the air of money about them despite being dressed casually, almost scruffily. As if they were dressing to fit in. Still, wasn't that what they were doing? Crossing over to the wrong side of the tracks? But these guys weren't from around here, she knew that.

She listened in to their conversation and they seemed to be asking a lot of questions, probing almost. It didn't seem like your normal flirting, though she couldn't admit to being an expert. She was the last one the boys ever hit on and the most she ever got was drunken compliments. Was that it? Was she jealous that once again she was being ignored?

Ahh, forget it, she grumped to herself and got up. None of them noticed. She walked to the bar and ordered a Jeranium Buzz to sober herself up more. She wanted to go home and maybe have a few drinks there, curled up in her own room with a favourite show. Maybe one from Earth, she liked those, even if they were a little backwards. She got her drink and drank down half of it before turning back around. The table was empty. She scanned the bar and could see her friends at the door. That was a no-no and she pushed her way through as quickly as she could and reached Veronica as she was about to leave.

"Where you going?"

"Oh, Gail," she said with surprise. "We thought you'd gone."

"Where are you going?"

"We're going with the boys, they say they know this cool little bar. Much better than here."

"We don't do that, Ronnie."

"What? Oh come on, don't be dull."

"But you don't know them."

"Look we thought you'd gone home, wouldn't be the first time; and I'd invite you, but now I don't think so."

"Ronnie," she pleaded as her friend turned and walked away.

They didn't go off with strange men, it was a rule of theirs, something they promised their parents. They kept each other safe, but now they were just going off? Was that it? Or was it that she was hurt that she was being left out? As they'd grown up she'd found herself becoming different to them, life wasn't the same as it had been in school, but her friends didn't seem to realise that. Well, shabbus, maybe this was her final wake up call, the realisation that they had changed, or that she had changed and she needed to move on with her life. She drank the rest of her Buzz. If they wanted to keep acting like children, then so be it. Ha, they weren't even doing that, they used to be sensible. Wouldn't go off with strange men, now they seemed to think they were adults and everything would be alright.

She had that uneasy feeling in her stomach again and ran through the foyer and out of the door. She saw them across the street. One of the men was shutting the back doors of a van. She thought she heard a thud from inside, as if someone had hit the door and she watched as the man ran to the passenger door and heard him shout for them to 'go go go' and then he was in and the van shot off.

It would be the last time she ever saw her friends.
CHAPTER 1

"This has to be your worst idea yet," Rainsford Tsyrker shouted into her comms.

"Worse than Tornin?" Stephen Regrette asked.

"It's OK for you, you're not out here."

The 'out here' she referred to was crawling along the roof of the high speed train between the cities of Rachain and Faloo. It hovered over a rail that was held high above the ground by boosters and she could only be thankful that the entrance hatch was on the roof and not between the train and the rail. She was on the roof of the cargo carriage and though she was close to the loading hatch the wind was making it hard to get anywhere.

She unlocked one of her grip magnets and pushed it forward before locking it again. Then she did the same with the other hand. How had she gotten this job? Grant was in the train somewhere comfortably while Regrette was in high altitude ready to swoop in once the package was secured.

It was her own fault, back on Lancow II, the last job they'd done, she'd poked fun at them for nearly failing because they weren't fit enough to cope. They hadn't said that, but she knew that was why it was her stuck on the roof. Though to be fair, she smiled to herself, either of them would have been sucked under the train by now.

"I'm at the hatch," she said.

"Nicely done," Ben Grant replied.

"How're the cocktails?"

"A little sweet for my liking, but I'm surviving."

"Poor you."

"I know, but taking one for the team."

He sounded smug, she knew he was baiting her and she wouldn't let him.

"How's it look in there?"

"Hard to get too close, but the guards seem bored, but alert."

"OK, well attaching the breaker now. Gulch?"

"I've got the signal," Gulch said from the ship. "Breaking the alarm now."

The breaker made a helpful ping and a little light went from red to green.

"Now for the lock," Gulch said as the light went back to red.

The hatch was big, used for cranes to lower large cargo in and she was going to have to use the slipstream from the train's velocity to fling it open. That would alert the guards and then they had a very small window of opportunity to grab and escape.

"Ahh," said Regrette.

"Ahh, what?" Tsyrker said angrily as she was trying to manoeuvre into position.

"Readings on the long range scan. Moving in fast."

"Company?" Grant asked

"Looks like Durden Raiders."

"Shabbus. Come to steal what we're stealing," Grant swore.

"We're not stealing it," Rainsford reminded him.

"Retrieving didn't have the same ring to it."

"Either way, you need to move," Regrette urged.

"Gulch?"

"There, lock is open."

Rainsford had left one of her grip magnets down by her leg and held onto the other as she pulled a crowbar from her suit and pried open the hatch. She let go of the grip and skidded back before grabbing the other, just far enough away not to get smashed by the hatch as the wind got under and yanked it open. She then threw herself forward, grabbing the closer grip and swung herself inside.

***

As she was doing this Ben Grant was sauntering up to the guards at the door to the cargo carriage. They were bored enough not to notice him until he got nice and close.

"Stop there."

"About that," he said when there was a loud crash from the roof of the cargo carriage.

The two guards pulled guns and as they did so Grant fired an electrode at each. Hitting them in the neck it sent through enough electricity to knock them out.

He ran up and attached a breaker.

"Gulch?"

"Easy this one," Gulch replied and then the breaker beeped and the light went green.

Grant pulled open the door to find Rainsford already in.

"Where?" she shouted over the din of the wind.

He looked around.

"There."

He turned around as she went for the case.

"Trouble coming," he shouted.

Guards were coming down the train. Heavily armed guards.

"Get us out of here," Rainsford shouted.

"Here we come."

Above them their ship, The Wraith, dropped through the sky and thrust forward until it was keeping track of the train. A rope with harnesses fell through the open hatch and they both strapped in.

"Up," Grant commanded as the guards closed in.

The rope retracted and they were pulled through the hatch. As they did so Tsyrker dropped a smoke grenade through.

"Definitely Raiders," Grant said and she looked behind her.

There was one larger ship with three fighters and they were closing fast.

"How'd they know?" she asked.

"Let's worry about that later, shall we? Can you hurry this up a bit?"

"The winch winches as the winch winches," Gulch philosophised.

"Nice," Grant replied.

"Worse than Tornin," Rainsford said to herself.

She swung around and managed to pull her machinegun off of her back as the Raider ships got ever closer.

"You'll make us a target," Grant shouted over the wind.

"You don't think we already are?" she shouted back.

"What? Little old innocent us?"

Rainsford humphed and tried to get aim on one of the fighters. She opened fire just before their ship did and the Durden Raiders split up to avoid the laser fire.

Grant looked down to see guards in the now smoke free cargo carriage aiming up at them. He pulled Tsyrker's pistol and fired down at them. He tried his best not to actually hit them as they swung wildly on the rope.

One of the fighters was coming around behind them and Grant twisted his body so that they swung around on the rope and Rainsford blasted at it. Not that her laser fire would dent the ship's hull, but they couldn't just dangle there. It would look unprofessional and a little lazy.

The ship peeled off as it got blasted by Regrette from The Wraith, but that left the larger ship to try and swoop in.

"4 o'clock," Grant shouted and watched as Regrette re-aimed.

They were finally reaching the ship as the Durden ship tried again to get close enough to snatch them off of the rope. Or at least the case they had taken from the train. A door was opening in the Durden ship as Regrette focussed his firepower on the two fighters. Rainsford could see a man with a long range rifle in the doorway and she sprayed at him with her laser. The man ducked inside and then reappeared, but it was too late, they were finally being taken up into The Wraith.

"We're in, let's go," Grant shouted as they stripped off the harnesses.

The hatch slid shut below them and they ran to the bridge.

"Take the guns," Regrette ordered as they entered.

He was vacating the gunner's chair and taking the helm. Rainsford took the gunner's chair and pulled down the screen. From here she could control all the guns, front, roof and hull, using a joystick on each of the chair arms. There was a second gunner's chair to make the whole thing a lot easier, but she could cope on her own using a three-way split screen.

The ship pulled up and away and she spun the hull guns to blast at the larger Durden ship as it wheeled around to give chase.

"Be ready for more in space," Grant warned.

"Long range scanners aren't picking anything up," Gulch said from the navigator's seat.

Gulch was a Petruthsian, a race of large slug-like creatures who could raise up on their stubby tails to use a number of tentacles.

"Probably keeping back for exactly that reason. Didn't want to tip their hand," Grant said leaning over to look at the scanner.

"Well, game's up now, they'll be moving in."

"Not just them," Regrette said. "InterG ships inbound."

"Great," Grant sighed. "Don't shoot them."

"What am I, a criminal?" Tsyrker shot back.

"They seem to think so," Grant shrugged and walked out of the bridge.

The Wraith shot through the atmosphere and into space. The Durden Raider ships followed with the InterGalactic Police ships behind them. Neither were giving up the chase.

"What's so damned important about this thing?" Regrette said angrily.

"One of the Stones of Tampala," Gulch said. "Very rare, very expensive. Stolen from our client. Very interesting, the Stones, go way back in the mythology of the Kadinar people. You see..."

"Mssh, time and place, Gulch," Regrette said tersely as he jinked the ship left to dodge laser fire. "Coordinates plotted?."

"Right, yes, well, another time perhaps. Plotting now."

"Look forward to it," Regrette ironicalised as he dodged more laser fire from the Durdens. "Can't you do something about them?"

"Surprisingly, they're being evasive," Rainsford sarcasticised.

The arrival of the InterG was to her advantage though. The larger Durden ship had held back as the faster fighters dived in and out trying to cripple The Wraith. With the InterG ships coming up behind them, the Durden ship was forced closer and the fighters were forced to hang back and protect it from front and rear. She got a good shot at the Durden ship as it dodged fire from the InterG.

"Here we are. Durden cruiser on the long range, closing in," Gulch said.

"They won't get involved, just rescue their ships from this mess," Regrette said.

"Agreed," agreed Gulch.

"We still here?" Grant asked from the door.

"Just about to leave," Regrette said spinning left to avoid laser fire. "Coordinates?"

"In," Gulch told him.

"Then let's get out of here," he said and hit the lightspeed boosters.

***

They slowed down in the black void of deep space. Except it wasn't completely void. There was a ship there. Much larger than The Wraith which came and docked in it's hanger.

"Not using the secret hanger?" Grant asked.

"I'm not sticking around," Regrette replied.

"Busy busy."

"I actually think I need a holiday; I only get shot at when I work with you."

"Hey, now, that's because you hide in the shadows normally," Grant said.

"Use, not hide. We've been through this," Regrette chided. "Sort of the point about assassinations, y'know?"

"What about you, Rain?" Grant asked.

"I also don't get shot at. Unless I'm with you," she added as they walked down the ramp.

"What about my money?" Regrette asked.

"I've made contact, you'll have it in a few days."

"Good," Regrette nodded to himself and then turned and walked back up the ramp and into his ship.

It took off as they reached the end of the hanger bay.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Rainsford asked.

"What?"

"What he does."

"You thinking calling it Naval Special Forces is better?"

"Yes," she replied angrily. "I work to protect the UTN and it's people."

"Different packaging, same product," Grant shrugged.

"Oh, get off your high horse, Ben."

She strode off.

"You're mouth moves faster than your brain, Ben," Gulch said.

"Yeah," Grant sighed and ran a hand through his short mop of curls. "Valkswagon."

"I'll get us moving, go and apologise before making contact. I do think we should return the package before it kills us," Gulch said and slithered off.
CHAPTER 2

Ben Grant sat in his office in the city of Karllt on the planet Shallar in the Petruthsian galaxy of Jotar. Karllt was a small city with lots of green spaces; clean air and few skyscrapers. It had a small space port that was a feeder for the Twin Cities; neither of which wanted a space port ruining their nice cities. Which was fair enough when you considered that the larger space ports of Ictopia and Constine were famous hubs of criminal activity. Karllt was not so much a hub of nefarious activity even though most of what came through the space port was illegal goods. Coming from the likes of Ictopia and bound for the Twin Cities. Because rich people like to get their stuff cheap.

These links to the criminal Underworld (and it's sources of information) without having to live in it was the reason Ben Grant had his office there. It was useful in his line of work as a Universal finder of stuff. Pan-Galactic Location Agency was the official title of his little business. Gulch had come up with that as he felt Grant's proposal of Universal Finders of Stuff, Things and Occasionally People, while definitely telling people what they did, didn't have a professional enough ring to it.

He sat behind his desk in his office. They had an office each, Gulch took care of logistics and liked to be hidden away from clients, though he was wired in to listen to Grant's office. Grant took care of all the stuff that needed legs and arms rather than tentacles. He was staring at his computer trying to decide whether he should do anything with it when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

The door opened to reveal an older man and a teenage girl, maybe eighteen years old. Father and daughter to be sure, he thought; it was the way they stood together after they walked in.

"Mr. Grant?"

"According to the door."

"Right. Yes, well."

"Come and take a seat," Grant made a welcoming gesture, but didn't bother to stand. "You must be Warboys."

"Mr. Warboys, yes. Gerald."

"And your daughter."

"Yes," Warboys said before sitting. "Gail."

"So," Grant brought up the details on his screen as they sat. "You're here on behalf of the Miles family?"

He looked up at them, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes, well, they didn't want to come themselves. They are in shock, Mr. Grant."

"OK. So this is," he checked his screen, "about a missing person. Why did they send you?"

"I was with them," Gail said.

"And they thought you could tell me what happened."

She nodded.

"They are angry, Mr. Grant, angry that she came home and the others didn't. We know it is the shock and grief," he nodded to himself in understanding.

"But it wasn't your fault," Grant said to Gail.

She shook her head slightly and her lip quivered.

"It's OK," he soothed. "They call it survivor's guilt, it doesn't mean it's true though."

"We have documents, to hire you. From the Miles family," Warboys said and pushed them over the desk.

Grant looked at them, but didn't pick them up.

"They're angry that Gail here came home and so they sent you. They felt that you somehow owed them. I don't like that."

"Gail is the only witness."

"And I could have come and interviewed her once they hired me," he said with a little venom.

He didn't like these people already. They would be rich and used to getting what they wanted. They would feel entitled to it all and they would use others to get it. Just like they were using the Warboys here. They'd come a long way and no doubt used their own money to pay for the fuel. And all because they'd been bullied into feeling guilty.

A message flashed up on his screen. Gulch was listening and had already done a little research on the Miles'. Yup, his suspicions were correct. Made their money in real estate, old money, business started by great, great Granddad and worse, they'd made money from the Laikan War.

He looked down at the contract.

"I'm going to say no," he said finally.

"Why?" Gail gasped.

"Why have you come to me? What about the local police?"

"They're waiting for a ransom demand, every day is crucial in a case like this," Warboys said.

"Yes, I'm well aware of the job, thank you."

"I'm sorry," he looked at his lap.

"InterG?"

"Haven't taken up the case, say it's a local matter until there is a demand."

"Why?"

"They went off with some men, we were at a club," Gail said and her lip quivered again.

"Ahh, and it's only been three days."

"They're not that type of girls," Gail insisted.

"But you're voice says you're not so sure," Grant replied.

She looked down into her lap.

"We were friends in high school..."

"Private school, Gail got in on a scholarship. Bright girl," he said proudly.

"...but since we've left," Gail continued, "I don't know, I guess I've changed," she said without looking up.

"And they haven't," Grant finished.

"I know what you're thinking, Mr. Grant, and if it's true you will have earned money for very little work. These are just parents that want their child back," Warboys implored.

"How many kids?"

"Four," Gail said.

"And if you make a breakthrough the other families will hire you," her father added.

"The Miles' are just paying to find theirs, huh?"

"Yes," Warboys said a little ashamed for them.

"Four girls go missing, one of them is rich. Still suggests kidnapping, doesn't it?"

"Wouldn't you have expected a ransom by now?"

"Yes. Yes, I would," Grant admitted.

"And if you look at the contract, you still get paid if that does happen."

"Alright, alright. I'll send a contract to the Miles," he knew Gulch would be on top of that. "For now, Gail, tell me everything you remember about that night."

She did so as the two men listened. She was obviously a little embarrassed telling it in front of her Dad, but he urged her on.

"OK," Grant said as she finished. He got out a piece of paper and pen. "Now write down anything that comes to mind about the men and the van. In fact anything about that night that springs to mind, don't think about it, just write."

She took the pen and paper and looked at it.

"I said don't think," Grant said angrily and that kicked her into writing as he had hoped it would.

He didn't want thought, he wanted memory. So many people that came to him focussed so hard on remembering that they couldn't actually come up with anything.

She started slowly and then built up speed as she wrote until she got to the bottom of the page. She turned it over, looked at the blank side and then turned it back over.

"That's everything, I think," she said and slid it over.

Grant picked it up and scanned it. Not a lot of use that he could see, though a few interesting bits, not least the mention of a tattoo.

"This tattoo, can you draw it for me?" he slid the paper back.

"I don't know, I only saw a bit, poking out from under his sleeve. On his bicep, right?"

"Just what you saw."

She picked up the pen again and made a few attempts to draw it.

"Like that, I guess, the line is his shirt sleeve," she handed him the paper.

"OK, well, I think that's enough. I'm sorry you've had to come such a long way for very little."

"It is fine," Warboys said.

"It's not fine, the Miles' should be sitting here, not you two. Until I start looking I don't know what is and isn't important so I may come and visit you again, ask some better questions. OK?"

"Yes," Gail nodded. "I want my friends found, Mr. Grant."

"Yeah. That's the idea."
CHAPTER 3

"What do you make of it?" Gulch asked, sitting on a sofa against the wall. Above him on the wall was a painting of 'The Fall of Darken'.

"From what she said and what you've dug up? I can't see the kidnapping angle," Grant admitted wearily from behind his desk.

"Agreed, from the police reports it doesn't sound like a professional job, no ground work laid, though..." he shrugged his tentacles.

Grant knew what he meant, the local police weren't always the best people for a job like this. It was normally swiped by the InterG before they could get any good at it.

"What about that tattoo?"

"Still running it," Gulch picked up a portable computer screen and looked at it. "No hit yet."

"It's bugging me," Grant said.

"Like you recognise it."

"I don't know, not enough of it on show, could be anything."

"So we hit the streets," Gulch said and got up, or more technically, down from the sofa.

"Yeah. Start at this nightclub."

"Good. Never been to Mo'Tau."

"Life's just one big holiday."

"I can think of worse jobs," Gulch shrugged in a way you can only do with tentacles.

***

"Going somewhere, Grant?" the InterG agent asked.

"Normally when I'm walking out of the door. Though sometimes I just do it for fun."

"Back inside."

"I haven't technically left yet. You're in my way."

"In," the agent said sternly and Grant sighed.

He walked back and sat behind his desk without offering a chair to the two agents.

"Lost something?" he asked.

"If we had, this would be the last place we'd come," the other agent said.

"How menacing of you. Now, what do you want?"

"We hear you were on the Dearmo Express."

"Good for you."

"That was robbed between Rachain and Faloo."

"It was, I know, I was there. Terrible business."

"What were you doing?"

"At the time? Drinking cocktails."

"On the train," the agent said sternly.

"Drinking cocktails."

"Why were you on the train in the first place?" the other agent asked just as sternly.

"Getting from A to B, that's what trains are for, isn't it?"

"We could continue this down the station."

"Why? Because I was on a train?"

"A train that was robbed."

"Are you going to get to a point or should I order in some lunch?"

The InterG officer slammed a hand down on his desk.

"We know you were involved."

"No you don't because I wasn't. If I was, then you would have taken me to the station."

"You think all this fools us? That you're some sort of detective?"

"I don't care what you think," Grant said angrily. "You got facts then arrest me, if not get out of my office."

"This isn't over, Grant, we'll get you. And your friends."

"Oh yes," the other agent said. "We know about your friends."

"Really? How fascinating. I assume you're talking about Mavis next door, are you?"

"You hang out with criminals because that's what you are, Grant."

"Really? Could you name one?"

They just stared at him.

"Didn't think so," he stood up. "Now, I was going out and you two buffoons were going back to chasing your tails."

"This isn't over, Grant," one warned.

"Part Two: Return of the Buffoons, I can't wait. Get out."

They both gave him a long, malicious stare and then left together.

"Idiots," Grant said to himself.

"Gone have they?" Gulch asked from the door.

"How come you get the secret office and I get the front door?"

"You're a people person," Gulch shrugged with a smile.

***

They drove to the space port where their ship, the Lark was parked and took off into space where their larger ship, The Albatross was moored. The Albatross was far too big to land at Karllt's space port as it was more of a mobile HQ. Named after the Earthen bird that could stay in the air almost indefinitely, Grant and Gulch used The Albatross to cover the Universe without having to go back to the office.

"It still bugs me," Grant said as he flew The Albatross to the star-gate.

"That they sent the Warboys?"

"No. Well, yeah, that too. No, I mean how did the Durden Raiders know about the train heist?"

"Maybe they didn't, maybe they were planning the same thing."

"So they rock up at exactly the moment we're emancipating the Stone?"

"They couldn't know when exactly we were hitting the train, Ben."

"No," he said quietly.

"You think it was one of us? Regrette?"

"I trust him."

"He's a Hitman."

"He's an Assassin, it's different."

"He's also a Hitman and you know it."

"Alright, yeah, but he's got no reason to sell us out. We paid him."

"You don't think Tsyrker?" Gulch raised an eyebrow, or the Petruthsian equivalent.

"Of course not," Grant said looking over at him.

"Me?"

"Shut up, Gulch."

They went through the star-gate and arrived in the Lampeer Galaxy.

"Ever been to any of the planets here?" Grant asked.

"Montoi, in the Frass solar system."

"Yeah? How come?"

"Research. There was a week of lectures as well, fascinating stuff, Grant, all about the how the Universe was formed, earlier cultures and what is beyond the known Universe."

"Known?"

"We can only go so far, only see further a certain distance."

"What about all the new star-gates they made before and after the war?"

"That was it, the furthest reaches. Oh we can see far enough to know the Universe continues, but not far enough to see the next galaxy," Gulch schooled.

"Well you learn a new thing every day."

"You should have learnt it at school," Gulch chided.

"Huh?"

"Exactly."

"Right, well I'm going to get the Lark prepped if you'll dock this bad boy."

***

They landed at the space port and took the van that fitted into the back of the Lark and drove to the Miles' house. The city of Canberi'do was clean and the sky was blue between the widely spaced skyscrapers; there was obviously money here. Unfortunately Grant knew that said money came from the work of others in manufacturing and mining.

"Very nice," Gulch commented.

"Works against the Miles' for once."

"How come?"

"I assume I don't need to tell you the history of this planet," Grant looked at him.

"Three planets, known collectively as The Zydra, were discovered to have minerals, gems and the like. Plus the Geudaa beast has good hair for weaving. When people exploited these resources they settled here, by far the nicest planet in the system. All the Headquarters are here."

"Right, all the eggs in one basket, so they have to have one hell of a Police force to protect them, right?"

"Right," Gulch nodded.

"Wrong. No one wanted to share so they all hired private security firms. The Police have a minimal job and therefore a minimal budget. On the rare occasions that something slips past the security then it's their job to investigate, most of their money and resources goes to that."

"No one cares about personal crimes?"

"Not over their business. Unless it happens to them," Grant shrugged as he took the on-ramp up to the skyway.

Skyways were floating roads held up by numerous jets and were a much safer alternative to flying cars.

Grant and Gulch joined the fast moving traffic and headed out of the city. Past the suburbs and into the countryside the houses got real big and expensive real quick. Many were in gated communities surrounded by high walls and Grant wondered what the point of living in the countryside was if you couldn't actually see it.

"See yourself living in a place like this?" Grant asked.

"Lots of walls, seems rather restricted," Gulch said and Grant nodded.

They took an off-ramp and drove for a while through tree lined streets that bordered fields and woods. After a while they came to a village. Once again the houses were big, but this time their walls surround large tracts of land.

"Ahh, I see, put the outside inside," Gulch said and Grant smiled.

They pulled up to a gate and spoke into an intercom before it opened and they drove up a long driveway.

"I must admit, it's rather nice," Gulch said looking across the sculpted gardens.

The house was massive, but Grant didn't get to see much of it. Gulch stayed in the car, he wasn't a people person and a lot of people didn't trust Petruthsians. And with good reason, they were excellent, if somewhat scheming business people. Slugs. Whatever.

Grant entered a hallway that was bigger than their office with a grand staircase leading up to a wraparound balcony and was led, by a butler of course, into a small room just to the right. It was small, but elegant. Not as elegant as the rest of the house, Grant knew. This was where they brought guests such as himself, the room was empty of anything of real class or value, nothing that would be wasted on his dull sense of taste. Despite the fact that the Miles' had hired them, Grant got the distinct feeling that they didn't want anything to do with them and were not best pleased with him coming here.

"I'm not best pleased about you coming here," Mrs Miles said as she entered. "I thought Warboys would have sorted it all out."

"Yes, but it's not his daughter that is missing."

"No, it wouldn't be, would it?" she withered.

"I don't understand what that means."

"Never mind. Sit. Holson, fetch us drinks."

The butler left as Grant took a seat. It was nice, more expensive than his whole flat probably, but still not anything compared to what else they had. She wouldn't let him sit on it if it was.

"What Warboys couldn't tell me was if there was anything unusual before the events?"

"Such as?"

"Was your daughter acting secretively? Going out more? Or less? Happier than normal?"

"Why?"

Grant sighed mentally.

"I'm trying to get at whether she might have known these men beforehand. A boyfriend you wouldn't approve of maybe?"

"She hasn't run away, Mr. Grant," she accused.

"I have to rule it out."

"Well then you have. No, she wasn't acting any differently. She was free from school and wanted to let her hair down for a while. She knows what her future holds, she knows the amount of work that goes into affording the life she is accustomed to."

"She visit this club regularly?"

"I wouldn't know. I'm no saint, Mr. Grant, I know that girls need to get into a little mischief and I leave her to it."

Grant nodded. He didn't like her, but she did seem to be a good mother. For all he knew about such things.

"She will be joining the family business?"

"Yes."

"She OK with that?"

"She hasn't run away," she stressed.

Holson came in with the drinks and they sat in silence until he left.

"What about anything else? Anyone caught snooping around? That kind of thing?"

"Not that I have heard of. You'd need to talk to our head of security."

"OK, cool, I will. What I'm trying to figure out was whether this was planned or of the moment. More so, did these men know who your daughter is?"

"I doubt that very much," she said.

"Why?"

"Because I don't think those that would, frequent nightclubs like that. And if they did, I would have expected a ransom demand by now."

"Yes. I agree," Grant said and stood.

She stood with him.

"I'll see your security man now."

She nodded.

"Holson will sort it out. Mr. Grant?" her face softened. "I want my daughter back."

"That's what I'm going to do, Mrs Miles," he said softly and she nodded before angrily flicking away a tear.

"Wait in the hall. Holson will come and get you."

***

Holson did indeed come and collect him and took him back outside. As they walked around the house to the security offices Grant tried to question Holson.

"How about you? You must see pretty much everything, seen anything odd?"

"Odd, sir?"

"Yeah. With Veronica. Anything different in her behaviour?"

"I'm sure that's not for me to say, sir."

"You're blocking my investigation? Could it be the butler did it?"

"Sir," he said aghast. "How could you?"

"How could you?" Grant shot back. "How can you refuse to help me?"

"It's not my job to talk about such things," he said with obvious hurt.

"Then nothing's going to get solved, man."

"Nothing."

"Nothing what?"

"Nothing has been untoward. Miss Miles is an adult now, she has been making the most of not being in school, but there is nothing wrong in that."

"Nope. But I'm getting the feeling she's a little wilder than you all would hope."

"I never said such a thing," he protested.

"No, but it's in your tone. Mrs Miles' too."

"She is a little wayward, sir," he sighed and took a quick look around. "Look here, yes, she's not so interested in joining the family business. She is used to being given all that she wants; she has become entitled and unwilling to work for her keep."

Grant looked at the old man. His face showed relief and shame. It had taken a lot to divulge family business.

"Thank you, Holson," Grant said and he meant it.

"Here is the security suite."

The building was a one storey long barrack. It was close to the house, but shielded from it by a line of trees and manicured hedges. As they walked around to a break in the hedge a man was striding towards them.

"You Grant? Follow me, the van's been found at the space port."

"I'll follow you in my van," Grant said and took off at a run.
CHAPTER 4

"What's happening?" Gulch asked from the back.

"Van's been found at the space port," Grant said.

The security truck drove past towards the gates and Grant followed it.

They arrived to find the local police had taped the area off and were standing around idly. Obviously the Miles' security had called ahead and told them not to touch anything. Grant was relieved by this, he wanted to see everything exactly as it had been left.

He jumped out of the van and ran to the Head of Security.

"Don't touch anything," he called as he ran.

"Now, look here," the security Head jabbed a finger at him, "we've got this, we don't need you."

"Except we're at the space port."

"So?"

"So if they've gone off world then you very much need me."

The Head of Security stared at him and then dropped his finger.

"Kibbe."

"Grant. I need to see it exactly as it was left before we touch anything."

Kibbe nodded and turned as his van of security officers arrived and bundled out.

"Go have a look, but you won't have long. Mr Miles is on his way."

Grant nodded and strode over to the taped off van.

"Let him through," Kibbe yelled at the police officers.

Grant ducked under the tape and pulled on a pair of gloves. He smelled the air as he walked around the van and was glad to not smell decay. No corpses.

Hopefully.

The cab was clean, very clean, which meant that it hadn't been a spur of the moment kidnapping. There was no way they could clean the van to this level with four women hostage, not without being noticed. He walked to the back doors and pulled at the handle, it, surprisingly, swung open.

The inside was clean, but not as clean as the cab. It looked like it had been pressure hosed as he could see where the dirt had been pushed up the walls and slid back down before drying. A quick job. The walls were of note for their soundproofing, Grant knew this type of van and he knew the material that had been attached to the inside walls.

"Anything?" Kibbe asked from behind him.

"No," he stepped aside for Kibbe to look.

"We checked the flights out, they didn't leave from here."

"No," Grant shook his head, "I think they just changed vehicles. Professional."

"So they're still on the planet."

"Could be. There a dark zone close by?"

"Not close," Kibbe shook his head. "Not that type of area."

"What?" Grant looked at him with surprise. "All this money?"

"And all this security. We watch the skies too," Kibbe said with pride.

Grant nodded. Of course they did.

"Listen, Grant, we can't go too far. Our job is here, protecting the house, the business. You'll have to deal with the local police."

"You don't sound happy with that, Kibbe."

"I'm not," he frowned. "I can give you two men on the down low. Good men."

"Alright. Send them to the nearest dark zone, I want to know what's around and whether anyone took off from there."

"And you?"

"Back to the start. The nightclub."

"We've already been there."

"And people tend to talk to private security?"

"No," he admitted. "And frankly, we're not trained for this sort of thing."

Grant turned back to the van and pulled out a camera. He took a photo of the number plate before climbing in and taking more. He scanned the floor and walls, but there was not much to see. He could scan for fibres, but that would just tell him that the girls had been in there and he already knew that.

"Got a hit on the plate," Gulch said in his earpiece.

The photos had gone straight to Gulch's computer in their van.

"Van belongs to a shop in the city of PeePardeu. Close enough for them to drive to the nightclub before it got reported, but far enough away not to get recognised," Gulch told him.

"Alright," Grant said to himself as much as to Gulch.

He walked back towards his van and Kibbe caught step with him.

"My men have left for the dark zone," he said.

"Good," Grant said and gave him his radio contact. "Get them to get in touch once they're there."

"Keep me in the loop," Kibbe said.

"If they're still close by I'll hand it off to you, Kibbe," Grant assured and Kibbe nodded to himself.

"Bad for us. Breach in security."

"Like you said, you're here to protect buildings and wealth, not people."

"Children are our greatest treasure, Mr. Grant," he said seriously.

Grant nodded and walked to his van.

"Mr. Grant? Mr. Grant," a voice called.

Grant turned to see a well-dressed man striding towards him.

"A suit like that in a place like this; Mr. Miles, I must presume," Grant said.

"Right you are. Come from the office, traffic can be terrible."

"I'm sure," Grant said noncommittally. Traffic woes should be the last of this man's, well, woes.

"What have you got?"

"Not a lot, I'm afraid."

"Well?"

"Look, Mr. Miles, I don't like to talk about such things so early. People can read conclusions that aren't there."

To give him his credit, Miles actually thought this through.

"Right," he nodded to himself. "Still, I want to know. It's my money, after all."

Grant sighed internally. That was always it, wasn't it? Money. Who had it, who was spending it and what you could get for it.

"The van's stolen rather than custom, but the job's professional. Makeshift soundproofing put up and taken down, other stuff. That tells us that it was an opportunist job, but a planned one."

"What does that mean? To the layman," he tried a smile.

"It means they planned to grab people, but didn't plan on who. This isn't a kidnapping for ransom."

Miles looked around at the space port's terminal.

"So they've gone off-world?"

"They didn't leave from here, no. They'd be caught."

"So they're still here," Miles said with a little relief.

"Jumping to conclusions, Mr. Miles."

"What? Oh, right you are."

"We're checking nearby dark zones and, I'm afraid, we have to consider they have gone off-world."

"Why? And what are dark zones?"

"Dark zones are illegal entry and exit points for space ships and why? Why do people kidnap young women, Mr. Miles? Is there anywhere like that around here? On this world?"

Mr. Miles' face went a shade horrified.

"I'm sorry, but you asked."

Miles sucked in some air and swallowed the lump in his throat. He had gone white.

"Yes. Yes, I did. I had... I'd just never, well, thought about it. I always thought she'd come back safe and sound. You know? Just a misadventure of youth."

"We're working to make sure she does, Mr. Miles. I'm very good at my job."

"Yes. That's why we hired you, Mr. Grant. Ex-UTN Naval Special Forces, ex-InterG Detective. Very impressive."

"Whatever."

"But can you?"

"Find her?"

"Yes. The Universe is a big place."

"You leave your galaxy much?" he asked.

"Not so much. We have enough solar systems for a lifetime of travel," Miles said.

"Right, but the Lampeer Galaxy is an exception with, what? Five solar systems? Most galaxies have one or two inhabitable solar systems and even then only one or two planets that have been colonised. It's not so big if you know where to look."

"Bring her back to us, Mr. Grant. Bring her back."

Again Grant just nodded and walked to his van. As he got in he could see Miles talking to Kibbe. Kibbe laid a hand on Miles' shoulder as Grant pulled away.
CHAPTER 5

The nightclub was half full, but the music was thumping and the bar was packed. It was on the other side of the space port and from what Grant had seen when they came earlier this was where all the workers lived. The houses were smaller and more tightly packed together; the neighbourhoods looked and felt rundown. They actually weren't though. The rich knew that to keep workers in poverty would be to incite hatred, theft and violence; the houses here were much nicer, and bigger, than those in other cities, it was just the contrast.

Still, this was the seedier side of town, again in contrast to the super rich, and Grant could see why the girls would come here. A bit of adventure, going out of their comfort zone; going where their parents wouldn't want them to. Hanging out with poorer people was about as edgy as it got for rich kids.

Grant had tried to meet with the management earlier in the day, before the club opened, but hadn't had any luck. When they had finally got someone on the phone they were told they would have to come when the club was open. Unsurprisingly, Gulch had opted not to come in, not really his cup of tea. Not really Grant's either, but they couldn't both sit in the back of the van and twiddle on computers.

He had gone there as close to opening as possible and there was already a good mix of aliens in the place, but mainly Humans. Grant didn't think people like the Miles' would want to mix with, even be served by, other species.

The barman was an Oncolutian; beings that had a big slab of body; wide, but seemingly slightly too thin to contain anything, sitting upon short legs. The Oncolutians had decided to scrap any kind of conventional shoulders and instead the arms continued nearly straight upwards to an elbow and then came back down again so that the hands were level with the being's hips. In all each arm must have been close to 6 feet long and were mightily flexible. This made being a barman the best job for a lazy Oncolutian as they could reach any drink without having to move from their spot.

He pushed into the bar between an Albertine (sort of monkey/Human hybrid) and a Grey (stereotypical grey coloured alien, big eyes, upside-down teardrop head) so that he was standing right in front of the barman.

"What?" he asked over the din.

"These guys," Grant said over the noise.

He held up pictures that they had put together from the descriptions Gail had given him. They weren't great, they weren't great at all.

"You finally got some pictures huh?" the barman asked looking at them.

"They're not great."

"No, they ain't. Could be any number of Humans that come in here."

"You were here the night the girls went missing?"

"I've told you all I know," he complained. "I got work here, man."

"I want to hear it."

"Read my statement."

Grant looked around, the club was filling up, but it wasn't that big. He watched a number of people greet others as they wandered about.

"Small clientele, don't try and tell me you wouldn't notice strangers."

"I got work," he said and turned to a waiting customer.

"This about those girls that went missing, huh?" the Albertine said.

"Yeah," Grant turned to him.

"Let me look at those pictures."

Grant handed them to him.

"They're not great," he said.

"Can you improve on them?"

"No," the Albertine shook his head, "But I might know someone who can."

"Really?"

"They weren't the first. Day before. Other girls went missing. Poor girls though."

Grant took his meaning. Nobody had bothered looking into it, nobody had cared.

"I need help here," Grant said.

"Buy a Carute whiskey and Cob and follow me."

Grant did what he was asked and found himself at a table in a smaller chillout room, where the music was dulled by the walls. It wasn't Grant's idea of a place to chill out, but he assumed that just meant he was getting old.

"Jonsy," the Albertine said as they approached a table.

"Kaskey," the man replied. He was sitting alone.

"This man here has brought you a Carute and Cob."

"Why?"

The man looked terrible. Sad. So sad that it was eating him up.

"Because he wants to talk to you about Rudy's disappearance."

"Since when did the Police care?" Jonsy asked.

"He ain't no police."

"Looks like police," Jonsy said suspiciously.

Grant put the drink down on the table.

"Don't think he wants my help."

Jonsy eyed him up.

"What you got?"

Grant laid the pictures down on the table.

"They ain't great," Jonsy said.

"Yeah. Ok. I get that."

"Alright, alright," Jonsy said testily.

"You seen 'em, Jonsy?" the Albertine, Kaskey, asked.

"Reckon," Jonsy replied.

"Right," Grant said and sat down. "Tell me."

"I'm in love, alright?"

"But she doesn't know it," Kaskey grinned.

"Yeah, alright. Thanks, Kaskey, I was building up to it."

"So?" Grant prodded.

"So I was gonna ask her, alright? But her and her friends were talking to four guys. I was just working up the courage when they walked over to them. All cocky and jokey, like. Much better looking than your pictures," Jonsy spilled.

"Can you improve on the pictures?" Grant asked.

"You gonna find her?"

"Rudy? Yeah, if I can. All of them."

This seemed to satisfy Jonsy and he looked at the pictures again before giving Grant a much better description, adding lots of details. Grant scribbled it all down.

"You ever see them before that night?" he asked.

"Nah," Jonsy said. "Though I weren't looking, right?"

"Right," Grant agreed.

He and Kaskey left Jonsy to his misery, he had nothing else to say.

"Let me buy you a drink," Grant offered at the door back into the club.

"You don't want to drink in a place like this."

"No, you're right."

"There's a bar next door. Come on."

They left the club and found a nice and quiet bar next door. Seemed it catered to those that wanted to get away from the noise as there were a lot of young couples snuggling up to each other at the tables.

"Why'd you help me?" Grant asked him.

"Jonsy was right, you look like police. A little bit. But you ain't are you?"

"I find things, but yes, ex-InterG."

"Why'd you leave?"

"I don't like the way they do things."

Kaskey smiled and nodded.

"You still haven't answered my question," Grant pushed.

"How'd you think you'd get answers in a place like that?"

"I can tell you I've never had an issue."

"That right?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think you play nice," Kaskey grinned.

"Not always."

Grant's mobile computer was on the table and it vibrated. He'd put all of Jonsy's details into it and it had gone straight to Gulch who had reworked the pictures.

"What's that?"

"My partner sending in the updated sketches," Grant showed him.

"Nifty kit," Kaskey appreciated.

"Listen to me, Kaskey, you know the area. Seems these men came in for two days. Two days, two grabs. That means they spent a day here. You can help me get that info."

Kaskey thought about it.

"Yeah, alright. If you paying for my time."

Grant smiled.

"Of course."

"Ha. Not like I got anything better to do anyways."

***

"So we're getting somewhere," Gulch said in the lobby bar of their hotel.

"Yes."

"This Kaskey fellow seems like a jolly lucky find."

"Yes. Local knowledge..."

"Is good knowledge," Gulch smiled.

"We can't keep being lucky," Grant said and took a sip of his drink.

"We're off to a good start, what is your reading?"

"What's yours?" Grant batted back.

Gulch took a draught of his own drink, a pint of Samuel Smith's Bitter. A beer so good it had been brought into space with the first Humans.

"Professional, but opportunist, though I'm surprised they stayed for the extra day."

"Yeah," Grant nodded. "The first grab not up to scratch or they've got a quota."

"So they're working for someone else. Durdens?"

"No. Durdens work for themselves and they're not so subtle."

"Agreed. The other thing that bothers me?"

"How'd they get to PeePardeu?"

"Exactly."

"The hand over vehicle," Grant said.

"Another obvious lead."

"They're banking on being far away by the time anyone looks," Grant said. "I'd think the vehicle is stolen from another world."

"Yes," Gulch agreed. "Do you think they stop off on a world just to steal a van or do you think they grab one before they leave?"

"Good point. Let's look into that. What about that tattoo?"

"I got a couple of possibilities, I'm running them through the InterG database, could take some time."

"Alright. Probably not so important, just let me know."

Gulch finished his drink and slithered off of his seat.

"I'll see you in the morning, Ben. Rest up."

"Yeah, sleep well."

After Gulch had gone, Grant finished his drink and ordered another. He didn't like this job, it already felt like it was straying into territory he didn't want to get into. In fact, he'd started this business to get away from such things. All he wanted to do was help people recover things they had lost or had stolen. Yes he located missing people, but they were generally missing on purpose. Kidnapping was InterG business and he tried to avoid InterG business.

And this was kidnapping, not for ransom and that made matters worse. There were all sorts of reasons why people kidnapped other people and none of them were nice. Mostly it was slavery, sometimes worse. So normally Grant would hand all his information over to the local police who would in turn get in touch with the Intergalactic Police. And he would do that, but this time he wouldn't drop it. The police were next to useless with something like this. The rich relied on the security teams to stop anything happening and seemed to accept that once in a while someone paid the price for it. He'd get bogged down with them and when they finally sent it up to the InterG there would be the normal paperwork and bureaucracy to get through before anyone began investigating. When they did, they'd come back and cover the same ground as he already had. By the time they got off-world the girls would be untraceable.

It was one of the reasons he'd left the InterG, too much bureaucracy got in the way of them actually solving cases. There were very odd lines at which cases passed between the local police, the InterG and the UTN Navy, with everyone trying to palm difficult cases off to the others.

So he would give the information to the local police and leave them to do with it what they liked, but he would continue on with the search. He finished his drink and went to bed.

***

That night he dreamt that he was walking through a dark and narrow street; on both sides there were windows and in each stood a female. Different race in each window, none of them dressed in much at all. He didn't like it, but he wasn't here for that; he was searching for an armed robber who was staying ahead of the police by jumping from one galaxy to another. There was rumour that the robber would target the city of Zantei and he had been sent there to work with the local police. Now it seemed the rumours were true and he was desperately tracking the robber before he (or she) could escape. But all that disappeared as he walked past a window halfway down the street and saw a haggard looking Human woman. She was a woman then, but she hadn't been when he had been assigned to find her.

He went in and pushed past the woman in the foyer. Security was called and they found themselves unconscious in a heap behind him as he wrenched doors open until he found her. She had no idea who he was, where she had come from nor the names of her parents. She struggled as he pulled her outside and his partner berated him. This wasn't the case, what the hell was he doing?

He would have gotten in a lot more trouble, especially for knocking out his partner, if he hadn't gone and caught the robber that night. He was in a rage and no partner, no Captain, no bureaucracy and no stupid robber was going to stop him finishing a case that he'd never gotten a chance to start so many years before.

They thought she was doing well back at home, recuperating, remembering, but she was gone within the year. It killed the parents, their hearts just couldn't handle the sorrow and loss a second time around and it would be another two years before he found her again.
CHAPTER 6

Kaskey got into the van.

"How're ya doing?"

"Good," Grant shook his hand. "This is my partner, Gulch."

Kaskey turned around in the seat to find Gulch in a swivel seat in front of a computer.

"Good morning."

"How're ya doing? Kaskey," he held out his hand and Gulch just looked at it. "What?"

"Sorry," Gulch stretched out a tentacle and shook his hand. "Most people don't want to shake with a tentacle."

"Pssh. Gotta be polite, right?"

"I agree," Gulch smiled.

"So you do the computers while he does the leg work."

"I'm not much of a runner," Gulch agreed.

"I'm with you, man, I only run if something's chasing me."

"Happen a lot in your profession?" Grant asked.

"Not if I'm doing it right," Kaskey replied.

"Hustler, right?

"That obvious?" he asked turning back around.

"Only to the trained eye. Where're we going?"

"What're you thinking on these guys?"

"They wouldn't want to hang around, but they'd need to be here long enough to scope out the places to go," Grant said.

"You can find out plenty on the Universal Trading Web," Kaskey said.

"Not enough to start kidnapping people," Grant replied.

"I wouldn't know," Kaskey grinned.

"We've got a comedian on our hands, Gulch."

"So I hear."

"So you thinking they got here earlier in the day?"

"Early enough to be able to work out a route, choose the best nightclub to work. Book into a hotel."

"Hotels it is then. Let's start at the Porthouse."

"Lead the way," Grant said as he started the engine and pulled away.

The Porthouse was a no-go, the clerk didn't recognise the pictures and had been working during the time the men would have been there. They moved on to Gert's Motel. It was small and cheap, like The Porthouse, both catering to people visiting or working in the poorer area of the city. None of them thought the men would have booked into one of the expensive hotels. Too much security.

"Yup, I reckon so," the woman said behind the reception.

She was a Reutorgian; her body was long and thin like a pencil (even ending at a pointy tail) with spindly arms and legs and a head shaped like a soda can.

"You rented their rooms since?" Grant asked as he took back the sketches.

"Let me see," she tapped on her computer. They shared two rooms, one of them's been rented since, but both have been cleaned."

"We'd still like to see it," Grant said.

"It doesn't do me good to ask questions, you know?"

"It's cool, ma'am, we ain't suggesting anything about you nor this establishment of yours. I've stayed here myself," Kaskey said with a smile.

"I thought I recognised you," she said as she came around the reception desk.

"Good memory for faces," Kaskey commented.

"I see a lot of them," she replied as she opened a door and led them into a door lined corridor.

"How about accents?" Grant asked. "Anything to say where they might be from?"

"No," she shook her head. "Bland. Like people who travel too much get. Like you two."

Grant nodded, he knew what she meant. With so many accents, variations and languages your own took them all on until it became none of them.

"They go out much?" Kaskey asked.

"As much as anyone else. Went out to eat."

"They ever say where?"

"I didn't ask. Here," she unlocked a door. "Don't mess it up or I'll bill you for a night's stay."

"We won't," Grant assured her.

They stood and looked at each other until she took the hint and left.

"What're we looking for?" Kaskey asked from the centre of the room.

"Anything that might have DNA in it; anything that might give us a clue as to where they came from or went to."

"Looks pretty clean."

"Yeah. Looks. This isn't the Intergalactical, I doubt they deep clean the place."

"Look in the corners," Kaskey grinned.

"Yup. Use this," he threw him a small vacuum box. "Stick it where you might get a hit and press the button, we'll sort it later."

Grant left him in there with the two beds, chest of drawers and wardrobe while he went into the bathroom. He took out another vacuum box and looked around. The bathroom seemed cleaner, but it was easier to see dirt on tile and so more likely to garner complaints. Though Grant didn't think it was the type of establishment that garnered complaints, nor worried about the state of the rooms.

With so much security this city wouldn't be a target for crime, which would make it a good place for criminals to meet. No one would be expecting criminals to bother with the place, so no one would look. The Ovian Galaxy was a well-known example of this.

Surrounded by the 'Eye-Net', a system that detected weapons as you passed through it, and with a crack police force, it was too much bother to try and commit crimes there. But it did mean that criminals could meet there knowing that no one could be armed.

In fact many of the bigger criminals were quite welcome as they spent vast amounts of money there and if they needed to stay longer to avoid assassination and the like? Why not? As long as they didn't try anything funny. This famously included the notorious gangster Scaadies who took up stand-up comedy after he retired there and was arrested for crimes against the Universe.

Grant used his vacuum here and there, but he didn't hold much hope. Even if they could get a DNA match to one of them, what would it tell them? They might get a name if they'd ever been caught by the InterG, but that rarely led to a capture unless they stayed in one place. He walked back into the room.

"Check under the bed and under the sink in the bathroom. If they had guns they may have taped them there. I'm going to talk to the receptionist again."

"Wilco," Kaskey said looking up from the little fridge.

Grant walked down the corridor and through the door. The receptionist looked up at him a little startled.

"Everything alright?" he asked her.

"Why, yes. Of course," but she was trying to compose herself.

"I just had a few more questions," he said.

"Listen," she said hurriedly. "I've no beef with you and I don't think you know your friend in there too well so you should go."

"I should what?"

"Leave. Now," she urged.

Grant narrowed his eyes.

"What have you done?"

"What I was asked. I don't like it, but I don't have an option. I don't want to see you caught up in it, but how could I warn you?"

"Of what?"

He heard cars pull up and looked through the glass entrance doors. There were a number of men of different species getting out; the one thing they all had in common was their burliness and their weapons.

Grant didn't hesitate. He ran back, yanking the door open and flying through.

"Kaskey? Kaskey?" he shouted. "Time to go. Now!"

"What is it?" Kaskey asked popping his head out of the door.

"Run," Grant shouted.

Kaskey must have seen the men behind Grant because he joined Grant in running towards the back of the building. A laser blast hit the wall just behind and to the right of them. The corridor split into a T at the end and a laser blast hit the wall over Grant's left shoulder. He could hear the receptionist shrieking at the damage as Kaskey shouted at him.

"Left, left."

They darted left as more accurate shots hit the wall.

"You know what you said about running?" Grant panted.

"Yeah, yeah. There should be a back door down here."

As they ran Grant pulled his laser pistol and fired back at the corner, hoping to buy them some time.

"Here, here, here," Kaskey skidded to a halt.

It was an emergency exit and Kaskey flung it open as Grant laid down more fire. They ran out into a rear parking lot as Gulch skidded in and nearly crashed into the dustbins.

"You drive," Grant shouted at Kaskey as he shot at the door.

Kaskey pulled the door open as Gulch leapt into the back and opened the side door. Grant quickly backed towards it as an Albertine showed in the doorway. Grant shot at the frame and the Albertine ducked back inside. He wasn't going to kill someone without good reason, for all he knew, Kaskey was the bad guy here. He leapt in the van and it skidded around as he shut the side door.

Once in, he clambered over into the passenger seat as Kaskey rocketed the van around the motel and through the smaller front parking area. There were two vans there and people shouted and started shooting, but then they were clear around the corner.

"You came back?" Gulch asked incredulously.

"It's been a long time," Kaskey shot back as they skidded around another corner.

"How long?" Grant asked.

"Two years."

"What did you do?" Gulch and Grant asked at the same time.

"I think we have bigger issues," Kaskey said as a laser bolt flew past.

"They local?" Grant asked.

"These days? Yeah."

"Gulch check on our friends at the dark zone."

"Hello, Cheeb?"

"Cheeb here."

"Any luck?"

"No. We got busted as security pretty quickly," Cheeb apologised.

"Get a police car or two to meet us there," Grant said as he clambered into the back. "Coming on...?"

"Salter Intersection," Kaskey said.

"Salter Intersection. You get that?"

"Got it," Cheeb said. "What about us?"

"Go home," Gulch said.

"Head that way," Grant commanded Kaskey.

"Be better to head spacewards," Kaskey said.

"Not without all the information we need."

The van headed out of the city and into a landscape of sandy not much. There were clumps of scrubby bushes and the odd group of trees, but not much else unless you looked to the horizon.

"Pleasant," Grant commented.

"Stripped for building, but they never did," Kaskey said.

Grant slid open the side door and leaned out holding a strap. There were two vans and a car behind them, the car coming up fast. Grant shot at its wheels, but missed as it swerved. He saw men leaning out of windows with machineguns and ducked inside as they fired. Kaskey swerved the van as much as he could but they got rocked by laser bolts.

"This thing armoured?" Kaskey shouted back with amazement.

"This happens more than you would think," Gulch informed him.

"Talking of which," Grant leant out and fired before ducking back in. "What did you do?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yeah, actually. This is messing up our investigation and for all we know, you're the bad guy here."

"I'm not, I swear. For once, I'm not."

Gulch looked at Grant who looked back.

"He helped us so we help him," Grant said.

"And after that?"

Grant shrugged. "Throw him to the wolves?"

"You know I can hear you right?"

"It was a private conversation," Grant replied.

"I dunno what I prefer, them or you," Kaskey groaned.

"You wanna find out?" Grant asked.

"No, no, I'm good."

Grant leant out of the door and shot at the approaching car and it swerved behind their van giving him a good shot at one of the vans. He hit the windshield and it shattered. The van hit its breaks and slowed out of range.

"Ha ha," Kaskey laughed, "never thought I'd be pleased to see the cops."

Grant pulled the door closed and clambered into the front to see two police cars coming up a road to their left. With flashing lights, the desolateness worked in their favour as the police cars were painfully obvious and the car and vans following them skidded to a halt before pulling U-turns.

"You want us to give chase?"

"Negative," Gulch said over the radio. "Follow us."

Ahead of them they could see a small town appearing and in the distant haze the skyscrapers of another city.

"Fardonateu City," Kaskey said. "Not as nice as Canberi'do, not as rich."

"Closer to the dark zone too."

"That'll tell you something about it, yeah," Kaskey smiled as they reached the outskirts of the little town. It was more of a truck stop than a town and in the centre was a crossroads, one city in each direction.
CHAPTER 7

Gulch had already sent the sketches to the police car's on-board computer and told them to carry on to Fardonateu and flash them around, though Grant didn't think there would be a match.

"You think these folk will talk to you?" Kaskey asked as they pulled up.

"Come on, you know crims and scoundrels. They're happy to give anyone up but their own. Especially if it helps them out."

"Mostly, yeah."

They got out into the hot sun to watch a spacecraft lift off and fly away.

The problem with spacecraft was that it was very hard to keep track of them all, especially when you added in all the in-atmosphere craft as well. Once a ship came into atmosphere it could follow several flight patterns to different spaceports and if one or two landed elsewhere there just wasn't the man power to stop them. Of course the police would know that there was a dark zone here, but if they patrolled it then another would be set up. Plus, other than illegal landing there wasn't much they could arrest people for without actually catching them with stolen goods or weapons.

They'd tried of course, all over the Universe, but it was a waste of limited manpower. Plus the local police found that people assigned to the operation would rather quit than do something so very very dull.

Grant and Kaskey walked into a diner. The inside was only a quarter full, mostly truckers who had their rigs parked around the back. It was still cheaper to move cargo by land than sky or space.

"No," the woman behind the counter said.

She looked like she could beat Grant in an arm wrestle. Probably give Kaskey a run for his money too.

"You don't sell Ventrwistian coffee?"

She eyeballed Grant.

"We do."

"Oh good," Grant beamed. "We'll take two then."

She gave them both another quick eyeball and then turned and made their coffee. When she came back to them Grant had the pictures out.

"No," she said putting their coffees down.

"Kidnappers," Grant said seriously. "Young girls."

She looked down at the pictures.

"When?"

"Three to five days ago."

"Turnod," she used her chin to point over their shoulders.

They turned to see an old, rough man sitting at a table drinking a coffee.

"I had business, he was running the place for me."

"Thanks," Grant smiled.

They picked up their coffees and went and sat down at Turnod's table. He pushed his empty plate to one side and looked at them both as he sipped his own coffee.

"What took you so long?" he asked.

"Whaddaya mean?" Kaskey asked.

"I knew someone would come looking for those young punks. Too full of themselves, they were."

"Boasting?" Grant asked.

"Nope. Full of themselves, but not dumb. Just acting like they were better than everyone else. Men who were committing crimes before they were even born, I tell ya."

"I want their spaceship," Grant said.

"I got a picture, it's behind the counter, 'case I wasn't here when you came."

"You're helping us? Just like that?" Kaskey asked a little surprised.

"It's not just like that, is it, young man?" he knitted his eyebrows. "Or maybe you don't know. You don't do you?"

"What?"

Turnod chuckled.

"Well for one, I don't like 'em. Way they do things. Oh, don't worry, Grant, I won't rankle you by pretending we had honour or the like, but we had limits. These young 'uns get into real bad territory, real quick."

"Whoa there, old man, you know him?"

"Suppose you're too young. Doubt you would have met him anyway; small time hustler."

"I ain't so small time," Kaskey indignated.

"Alright, you two. I want that ship."

"Gloria? Can you get my 'puter? Bring it here."

"Come get it yourself," she called back sharply.

"Can't you see I'm entertaining?" he smiled.

She grumbled to herself, but brought the computer over and dropped it on the table before grumbling off again.

"So?" Kaskey asked.

"Leave it," Grant warned.

"So we used to call him Supercop," Turnod looked up with a smile.

"Supercop?" Kaskey grinned at Grant who just sighed.

"Here they are, got 'em quick while they were away," Turnod said and slid the computer over to Grant.

He took his own out from his pocket and began copying the pictures over.

"It's why I'm so happy to talk," Turnod grinned.

"What? Because he was a cop?"

"Supercop," Turnod corrected. "Gotta be bad for him to be on the case."

"I'm not a cop," Grant said without looking up.

"Stopped you getting too big, it did. Knowing you could attract his kind of attention. Still does from what I hear. Some of the people he hangs around with," Turnod winked at Kaskey.

"I work alone. Unless you mean Gulch," Grant flicked his eyes up to him.

"Heavy hitters," Turnod said conspiratorially.

"He don't mean Gulch then," Kaskey shook his head.

"Poor Gulch. There, transferred. What about numbers?"

"Five of them that I saw. Driving an old Hubolt Van. Stolen I'd say."

"Picture?"

"You just transferred some. Not as good though, had to do it on the sly," he winked at Kaskey. "I haven't lost the touch."

"Why you think it's stolen?" Kaskey asked.

"State of it, didn't fit their swagger."

"Anything else you can tell us?"

"Nothing you can't work out yourself. Kids like that, they be working for someone, someone big to think they can kick dust like that."

"Seriously. You rate them?" Grant asked.

"Dangerous? Yeah. Big time? Nah. They ain't climbing the ladder, won't get the chance after one meeting with someone like you," he grinned again.

"I just find stuff now," Grant said.

"Course you do," Turnod cackled.

They walked out of the diner and watched a truck pull out and a space ship land beyond the buildings.

"What now? You wanna go look at the zone?" Kaskey asked.

"No. That was, I'll be honest with you, a lot quicker than I expected."

"Surprisingly easy too."

They walked back to the van.

"Sometimes the Universe goes your way," he said as they got in. "Sometimes not. Such as your current predicament with Wotham and his men."

"How'd you know?"

"It is our job," Gulch said indignantly.

"I know that Wotham was forced to 'retire' here to run his operations and I know that he wants back out. I know that the one person stopping him, Kaldre, accidentally drowned in Lake Fard, if you can accidentally tie rocks to your ankles and jump out of a boat. So lots of people have been wondering why Wotham hasn't left here yet."

"Alright, you got me," Kaskey held up his hands. "There was a payoff, not money, I don't know, I think information. It was stolen and there was a reward for it. I needed the money, a friend needed it. I hustled the drive off the courier and claimed the reward."

"But you didn't kill the courier."

"Shabbus, no, man. I ain't like that," Kaskey protested.

"For that we're glad," Gulch said.

"I also know that the whole thing was put in play to get Wotham back out, somewhere less protected so that he could be taken out."

"Heavy hitters," Kaskey said to himself remembering Turnod's words.

"You messed things up for a lot of people, Kaskey," Grant said.

"Yeah, well it didn't work out so well for me or my friend either, so valkswagon to it."

"That's not the correct use of the word," Gulch said irately.

"What?" Kaskey asked.

"Here we go," Grant sighed.

"Valkswagon is a Petruthsian word and it means 'something that is disappointing or not what one would wish it to be'. You can't say 'valkswagon to it', it doesn't make sense."

"He has a Cobee in his helmet about it," Grant explained.

"You can't just go around changing language, especially when it's not even your own."

"Save it for Regrette, Gulch," Grant said and started the van.

***

The drive back into the city was uneventful, but they all knew their arrival would be a different story. Wotham was out for revenge and he would have his men waiting at the space port for Kaskey to come back. They stopped at the city limits and parked in an underground car park for a shopping centre.

"So what're we doing?"

"Simple," Gulch said. "I'll take a taxi back to the ship and meet you at the dark zone."

"Right," Grant said. "They don't know us other than the van, they won't be guarding our ship."

Kaskey nodded with the pursed lips of approval.

"You can just drop me off on Tolber in the Idok Galaxy.

"Oh, no. You still got to earn your taxi ride," Grant smiled at him.

***

They were not long out of the city when they got the call from Gulch.

"Grant? Seems they know us after all."

"Where're you?"

"Mr. Grant?" another voice came on the line. "Seems we have a trade; the monkey for the slug."

"Valkswagon," Grant cursed quietly and then hit the brakes.

"We will contact you shortly with the when and where, Mr. Grant. You know this city, you know the security, don't be a fool and try anything. The monkey means nothing to you."

The line went dead.

"I'm sorry," Kaskey said.

Grant shrugged.

"This could work out well for us."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"They'll kill us, man. All of us," Kaskey exasperated.

"Nah," Grant replied.

***

They got the call an hour later and met a half an hour after that. The first meeting place had been Wotham's own mansion, but Grant had declined. When he was told that they would kill Gulch if he didn't come, he pointed out that they could kill them all in the mansion. It was conceded that this was not only a good point, but absolutely the plan.

They walked into the restaurant and it wasn't much safer than the mansion. As far as Grant could see the whole place was filled with Wotham's minions, and some of the regular size 'ons' too. In the centre of them sat Wotham himself along with Gulch.

"Well, well, Benjamin Grant," Wotham said with a big smile.

He was a Grey alien, though he was a mighty big one for their race. Only a few grew over five foot and were generally skinny things. Wotham was the size of an average Human which made him look huge in comparison.

"I didn't think we'd ever had the pleasure. You know, in the loosest possible sense of the word," Grant smiled back.

Wotham laughed.

"For that I'm thankful. Lot of people were mighty thankful when you retired."

"Not least me. Though I still appear to be having to deal with scum."

Wotham's face turned dark.

"Watch your language. Your retirement means no more backup."

"Pssh, they never arrived in time anyway," Grant looked around the restaurant. "Nice place. Food good?"

"You think I eat anywhere that isn't?" Wotham relaxed back into his chair.

"I didn't think you got out at all. I mean, I don't keep track of you, but the last I heard, it was about five years ago."

"The last time someone tried to assassinate me."

"And yet here you are risking all that over some petty revenge. I mean, Kaskey here didn't know that you were being blackmailed. He didn't even know that was what the data was."

"And how do you?" Kaskey asked.

"It's obvious, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah, now you say it," Kaskey admitted.

"Kaldre was shrewd, he made sure I would be stuck here even if something happened to him. As you can see, I'm still successful, but I couldn't be everything I wanted to be. You cannot play the game if you are not on the field," Wotham said.

"How poetic," Grant said. "I feel sorry for you and your evil empire."

"I am beginning to tire of you, Grant."

"Oh no, however shall I sleep tonight?" Grant threw his hands in the air.

"There is nothing to stop me killing you right here, right now," Wotham warned.

Grant turned serious.

"Yeah, I was kinda hoping for a more public place to guarantee my safety, but there is one up side to it all."

"Oh yes?" Wotham smiled as he picked up a pistol from the table in front of him.

"This place isn't nearly as secure as your mansion and that's really all the wiggle room some people need."

There was a pop, a clink and suddenly smoke burst from the ground. Another pop, another clink and more smoke.

Grant and Kaskey dropped to the ground and Grant saw Gulch drop off of his chair. He motioned at him but Gulch didn't need to be told as he started wriggling towards them. As he did so they started wriggling back to the door.

There came the crashing of glass and thumps and the whole restaurant was now full of smoke, occasionally lit by laser blasts. They reached the door having dodged a number of feet, pushed it open and pulled themselves out and up. Smoke billowed out around them.

"Now can we head spacewards?" Kaskey asked resignedly.

"Probably about time," Grant agreed.

A person walked out of the smoke and passed them. He or she was wearing body armour and a helmet with a facemask that was painted to look like a skull, they carried a big gun. The person did not stop or say anything. Didn't even acknowledge their presence. Kaskey watched the person go with a mixture of awe, fear and astonishment.

"Heavy hitters," he whispered.
CHAPTER 8

Gulch and Grant sat in the bridge of The Albatross while Kaskey was having a look around.

"She'll be annoyed," Gulch said.

"She'll be more than annoyed," Grant agreed. "But you're the one who got themselves caught."

"I know, I'm sorry," Gulch said with shame.

"Shut up, it happens."

"Do you really think we're need her?"

"Yes," Grant looked over at him. "I think it'll help."

"And him?"

"Him?"

"Come now, Ben. I looked around that room, there was nothing but one window open a crack. Just enough for a smoke grenade to fit through. Only one man we know could make that shot."

"Yeah, well, that's why she'll be more than annoyed."

"Because now she owes him one too," Gulch said.

"Him who?" Kaskey asked.

"Your room OK?" Grant asked.

"Him who?"

"Stephen Regrette," Gulch said.

"Never heard of him."

"He's got the room next to you," Grant said.

"The Wraith," Gulch said.

You couldn't see it because of all the hair, but Kaskey went pale.

"Wraith's not real," he said uncertainly.

"He's got the room next to you," Grant said again helpfully.

"Heavy hitters," Kaskey said and sat down.

"You keep saying that," Grant noted. "Gonna be your catchphrase or something?"

"What? No, sorry. I just wanted to help a man out."

"And now we've helped you out too."

"What happened in there? What about Wotham? And was that a Typan we saw?"

"You shouldn't even know that name," Gulch said with a little respect.

"Hey, man, I get around the Universe."

"You sure do, Kaskey and we'd love for you to join us if you've nothing better to do," Grant said happily.

"You would?"

"We would?"

"Sure, Gulch. We need someone from the criminal world. Give us an edge."

"I think we have all the edge and criminals we need."

"When will we stop mindlessly labelling people, Gulch?" Regrette asked from the door.

Gulch nearly fell off his chair.

"How long's he been on board?" he asked crossly.

"I said he had the room next to Kaskey," Grant said.

"You didn't say he was in it."

"I thought we'd give him a lift."

"Good to see you free and in one piece," Stephen Regrette said taking a seat with a smile.

"It happens to all of us," Gulch said, still cross.

"Not to me. Not to Grant. It happen to you, Kaskey?"

"You know me?" Kaskey asked.

"Nope," Regrette said. "I suppose it must do though seeing as you're the reason I'm here."

"Kaskey this is Stephen Regrette. Regrette, Kaskey. He's going to be working with us," Grant said.

"Wait, didn't you just say he's..."

"The Wraith?" Regrette laughed spookily.

"Er, well, yeah. Heavy..." he started.

"Really?" Grant asked.

"Right. No," Kaskey shook his head. "Just didn't think you were real."

"That helps in my line of work," Regrette said.

"You took out Tommy Bones," Kaskey said suddenly.

"I remember. Now, Grant, what are you up to?"

***

They took the Lark and landed on the planet of Ijo in the Sparnmet Galaxy. Right out on the edge of the Universe.

Many years ago, during the Earthen Victorian era, Grey aliens perfected a technology that let them jump through space and they set out to make contact with other Galaxies. As they did so they built the star-gates from the same technology. Unfortunately when they got to the Milky Way they quickly realised that Earth had not evolved sufficiently to travel it's own solar system let alone galaxy and decided to leave it alone.

Well not completely. They wanted a bit of a nose and so went down in disguise. They were quickly outed by the Victorian British that bumped into them and these fellows thought that adding the rest of the Universe to Queen Victoria's most splendid Empire would be top-ho. Once out into space they worked with the Greys to create the Universal Trading Network under which the whole Universe could band together and share the many wonders of other galaxies.

Once the Network was up and running, and fewer inhabited galaxies were being found, the exploration was scaled down so as to strengthen the Network. Galaxies such as Sparnmet were the last ones to get star-gates before the creation of them stopped altogether. This meant that Sparnmet, previously uninhabited, was open to colonisation and being out on its own attracted all sorts of nefarious types.

Of course with star-gates this was not really true, but psychologically everyone still thought of such galaxies as far away. Because even in space, what people think usually trumps the truth.

"So what are we doing out here?" Kaskey asked as they left the spaceport.

"People smuggling," Grant said.

"Not really my area of expertise."

"See? He's funny, that's why we're keeping him around," Grant told Gulch.

"There's a good chance that these men came through here at some point," Regrette said.

"Why?"

"Recruitment," Grant said. "These men, boys, didn't grow up in the Underworld, they got in. This is a good place for it."

"And people are gonna be like what? 'Oh yeah I hired those guys to kidnap girls for me'?"

"If I have my way," Regrette smiled.

"I don't like that," Kaskey said to himself as the other two walked away.

He caught up with them in a bar just outside the spaceport. It was rough and dingy, full of rough and dingy men and women of all sorts of races. It was the type of bar where you found business, work or a ship out. What Kaskey found was a lot of people stopping talking to eye up Grant and Regrette. He was sure a few tensed and then relaxed as they walked past.

"Dangerous place for you to be," the bartender said.

"Three bottles of Pargkat," Grant replied.

"You think you'll have time to drink them?" the bartender smiled.

"You think this place is tough?" Grant asked Regrette.

"Not unless they're hiding the tough guys out back."

The barman eyed Regrette. He was tall and lean, people thought he was skinny, but it was all muscle. He dressed well, always in some kind of suit, mostly favouring a shirt and waistcoat combination and sometimes a long coat if he wanted to hide his guns. Kind of like a cowboy. Well, a lot like a cowboy; he had a thing for Earthen Westerns, but only those that were allowed in The Albatross knew such things.

"You're pretty cocky for such a skinny thing," the bartender said. "Reckon my little niece could break you in half."

"You do seem like the type of man who would send a little girl to fight for you," Regrette replied.

The bartender's face turned red and scrunched up in anger.

"Whoa there, come on guys," Kaskey placated. "We're all here, we don't need to throw around our manliness. We all know who we need to be to be in a place like this. We've nothing to prove."

The bartender grunted, turned around to grab three bottles of beer and put them on the counter. Grant placed his card down next to them, but the bartender didn't take his eyes off Regrette.

"It says, Pan-Galactic Location Agency, that's me. Us. We've been hired to find a missing girl. We're looking for this ship," he put a photo next to the card.

The bartender looked at the card and then the photo.

"Pretty ship."

"It is. Young lads, maybe from money, looking for action."

"This ain't the place for the likes of them."

"Where is?" Kaskey asked.

"Try Barnabee's"

"You've been too good," Kaskey grinned at him.

They turned from the bar to be met with a small group of people.

"Like I said," the bartender said from behind them, "you reckon you've got time to finish that beer?"

He barked a laugh that turned to a cough.

"Grant," an Albertine said.

"Know you?"

"You knew my cousin."

"That's swell," Grant smiled.

"And my sister," an Oncolutian said.

"Well, you know, I don't do that anymore. I left."

"My sister still ain't left prison."

"Maybe she shouldn't have broken the law," Regrette suggested.

"I will break you in two," a burly Human threatened.

Regrette sighed a long sigh.

"Gonna talk us out of this one?" he asked Kaskey.

"Nah, only one way through this," Kaskey said and punched the Oncolutian in the face.

Grant and Regrette immediately dived in fists first to avoid getting punched themselves. Kaskey tried to beat a line to the door as Regrette and Grant fought those around them. The whole bar was either trying to get involved or trying to get close enough to enjoy their beer with a show. A glass bottle was thrown in and as Grant ducked a fist it flew over his head and smashed against the Reutorgian that was trying to hit him. He punched it in the stomach and stepped forward as he brought his fist up and uppercutted a Human. Kaskey somehow lifted a Merrick (a Humanoid alien with a nose like an elephant's trunk) above his head and threw it at two Oncolutians that were near the door. They tried to avoid the Merrick and their long, flailing arms took out another three people.

The three men burst out of the door as a Human and another Merrick fell out after them. Regrette kicked the Human in the leg before they legged it down the street and away from the spaceport.

They slowed to a walk and got their breath back before Regrette flagged down a taxi and they drove to Barnabee's.

"I can see why Gulch stays in the ship. I ain't sure I want to go in there with you," Kaskey said as they stood outside.

"You started the fight," Grant pointed out.

"I think you started that fight years ago," Regrette mused.

"Possibly," Grant admitted. "Still, look at this place, reputable."

"Is there such a thing in this city?" Kaskey asked looking around.

"It's all relative," Grant said.

They walked in and the restaurant was certainly much nicer than the bar they had been in. This wasn't for the common-or-garden variety criminal, but what they would think of as a better class. To Grant they were all just different types of scum. Still it was much more the type of place these boys would have come to if Grant was right in his thinking.

Rich boys who had been given everything they had ever wanted and had become shallow and hollow. Nothing gave them satisfaction because they didn't have to earn it. Nothing gave them a buzz until they started doing things they weren't allowed to do. Getting things they couldn't be given. Still, they couldn't get too out of their depth, they'd be eaten alive in a place like the bar they'd just come from, but this was much more what they were used to. They were still being eaten alive, it was just that this way was from the inside out, too slowly for them to notice 'til it was too late.

They walked past tables in the half full room. A man from one table looked at Regrette and made a quick run for the door in fear.

Grant raised an eyebrow at Regrette who gave a little shake of the head. The guy wasn't running to get others, he just knew who Regrette was and felt it wise not to be in the same room as him. Which was wise.

They took a table, Grant and Regrette taking the chairs with their backs to the wall.

"So what're we doing? We not gonna flash the piccys around?" Kaskey asked.

Regrette smiled at him.

"Funny?" Kaskey asked.

"A little out of our depth are we?"

"A little? A lottle, mate."

"Don't be convivial with me, boy," Regrette warned.

"OK, I'm just going to talk to good cop from now on. Grant?"

"This is a bit more top end, Kaskey, less likely to just sell others down the river, less likely to find kidnapping so appalling."

"More likely to be involved in it. People trafficking is one of the biggest businesses in the Universe, boy," Regrette said.

"So what are we doing?" Kaskey asked.

"Waiting," Grant said.

"Here are your drinks, gentlemen," the waiter said as he put them on the table.

"Hey, man, we didn't..." Kaskey started before getting kicked in the leg by Grant.

"Thank you, my good man," Grant smiled up at him.

"When you're finished I suggest you retire to your room at the Six Seasons Hotel. It was room 104, was it not?"

"I believe you're right," Regrette smiled up at the waiter.

The waiter flicked his eyes over at Regrette, but did not hold them there. Kaskey thought he saw a flash of fear on the waiter's face.

"You don't know who I am," Regrette told him.

"No, sir, I'm sure I don't."

"Good answer."

The waiter scurried away.

"Way out of my league," Kaskey said and took a sip of his drink. "Mmm, it's good."

"Is he your student now then?" Regrette asked.

"I like him," Grant replied. "He's useful."

"Mssh. Alright, boy, we didn't go to that first bar because we thought we'd get anywhere, OK?"

"OK..."

"We went so that people would know what we were looking for, there's a good chance that information got sent up the ladder."

"To the type of people that come to a place like this," Kaskey realised.

"See? Good student," Grant said sipping from his drink. "Mm, it is good."
CHAPTER 9

"So how do we know this isn't a trap?" Kaskey asked outside the Six Seasons Hotel.

"We don't, we just assume it is," Grant said looking up at the imposing building.

"Designed by Graxil," Regrette said. "Absolutely terrible. She should pay for crimes against the Universe."

"I like it. I like her," Grant said.

"Yes, but then I've flushed away more class than you were born with," Regrette condescended.

"As much as he might hate me for it, I agree with Regrette," Kaskey said. "Not about the flushing, I just think the building's ugly."

"He's growing on me," Regrette told Grant.

They walked into the large foyer and Grant got the key from reception. They shared the lift with a small group of Carutes.

Carutes had bodies about twice the size of a basketball and have a number of tentacles underneath. Some shorter and like an octopus' arms, some longer and thinner like a jellyfishes tentacles. On either side of its head/body were two sets of eyes, one set slightly forward the others set slightly back, all four about the size and shape of a tennis ball.

Being maritime creatures they travel around in floating 'bowls' of water called HoverSpheres.

"Afternoon," Grant said politely.

"Good day," one of the Carute answered.

After that they stood in silence. Well, the Carutes floated. Which niggled Kaskey.

"Do you need a lift?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you kind of fly, why'd you need a lift."

"Mssh," Regrette said to himself.

"It wouldn't do to just go careening around public places would it?" one of the Carute asked.

"Would save you from awkward lift conversations," Grant noted and they stood in silence until the lift reached the second floor and the three of them got out.

"I would," Kaskey said after the doors had closed.

"Yeah, but you don't think do you?" Regrette accused.

"Whoa, man, I was just making conversation."

"This hotel, this city, is full of criminals. Now look at yourself, it doesn't take much for an Albertine to be big and scary; how scary do you think you need to be when you float around in a glass of water?"

Kaskey thought about it and his face dropped into a frown.

"Just be careful who you talk to," Grant said. "And what you say."

He patted him on the shoulder as they reached the door.

"So?" he raised an eyebrow to them.

"It's a lot of trouble for revenge, they could have hit us in the restaurant and no one would have cared," Regrette said.

Grant shrugged and unlocked the door.

"Ahh, there you are," a tall man in long robes said from a small bar in the corner.

"Nice room," Kaskey said before catching himself.

"New recruit?" the man asked with a sly smile.

I say man, but he and his race merely took on the form of wise looking Humans that one of them saw in a book once. He was an Enthusian, a race with no real corporeal form, which made flying spaceships a tad on the tricky side, hence their Human guise.

"He's good at finding things, that's what I do now," Grant said.

"Oh, I know that, Grant. I've not called you all this way just to kill you."

"Didn't think you had reason to," Regrette said.

"No, neither do I," the man said. "You on the other hand..."

"Business is business, you know that, Hounsards."

"I do, I do," he stood up and spread an arm to invite them to sit.

They did, except Regrette who kept one eye on each door. Quite a feat considering there were four in such a luxurious suite.

"Drinks?"

"We'll pass," Grant said.

"Still all business, I see. Very good, I suppose."

"What do you want and more importantly, why?" Grant asked.

"To help, of course," Hounsards said.

Regrette barked a laugh.

"Oh helping you helps me, of course. Business is business, is it not?"

"Isn't this lovely? Should we leave you two alone?" Grant asked.

"You're quite right, all this talk of business and none being done," Hounsards said. "You're looking for a bunch of kidnappers from what I hear."

"You hear correct," Regrette said.

"Nasty pieces of work, and not in the way I like. Looking to sate their own desires rather than succeed in the Underworld. No one wants that, they're a liability."

"But someone hired them," Kaskey said.

"We have a smart one here, don't we?" Hounsards smirked.

"My patience is beginning to run dry, Hounsards," Grant warned.

"Very well. Four young men, looking for criminal enterprise, had done some things themselves, but wanted more. They got a few offers of low-level work to test them out. Everyone wants educated young men in their crew, but they weren't interested. In fact their attitude started to get them in trouble, another day and they'd be dead or ransomed back to their families."

"What changed?" Grant asked.

"Cobroy," Hounsards said dramatically.

Grant shook his head. "Means nothing to me."

"Perhaps to The Wraith."

"Perhaps," was all Regrette would admit, but Hounsards smiled.

"Works for Maggie Desard, I guess even as an InterG you wouldn't have heard of her."

"I have," Kaskey said.

"You have?" Hounsards couldn't keep the surprise off his face. Or out of his voice. It was just generally everywhere, that's how surprised he was.

"Last year, maybe the year before now, there was a package. Seemed like a sweet deal, but I got warned off it. Told it was a Desard Case, a test for employment. I still went for it until the guy who told me ended up dead. Nastily dead."

"I'm impressed. Your source was right, sometimes they fish for people, set tests to see if anyone is good enough. You can also see how brutal they are to people who know too much."

"They? You keep referring to the plural," Grant said.

"Indeed. The Desard Family, Mr. Grant."

"Back to Cobroy," Regrette said.

"Hmm, someone contacted him, just the kind of people Cobroy looks for, mean and willing. And expendable. You find them, you won't find who you're looking for, nor will they know anything."

"Though fascinating, not very helpful, is it?" Grant said and stood.

"Gothra. I suspect it was her. Recent change in fortunes, was here at the time. You can find her here," Hounsards pulled a slip from his robes and handed it to Grant.

"What about the why?" Kaskey asked as he too stood.

"Do you think I'm someone to be messed with?" Hounsards asked him.

"You seem nice enough," Kaskey shrugged.

"But I'm not. The InterG would love to get their hands on me, put me behind bars forever. I didn't get to this position in the Underworld by being pleasant. I am one of the Universe's biggest criminals, but really I should add 'known' to that sentence.

"People like Grant and his InterG friends know about people like me, but there are people they don't know about, people who really run the Universal Underworld. You only hear snippets of them; usually as myths or legends, like the Shen Mi. Or the Desard Family."

"Why not just, y'know, tell all this to the InterG?" Kaskey asked.

"Because they could never get them, they would have to cross lines they cannot, or should I say, that bureaucracy won't allow them to. But Grant here, he isn't InterG anymore is he?"

"And of course, taking down such people leaves a lot of good crime open for you to take over," Grant said.

"A step up," Hounsards nodded.

Grant thought about it and then chuckled.

"It's good, but it's not getting us our kidnappees back, is it?"

"I'm offering you more than that, Grant. Gothra will lead you to Cobroy, Cobroy will lead you to Maggie Desard."

"I haven't been hired to find her, I've been hired to find a missing girl."

"Find Desard and you'll find a lot of missing people, Grant. It's what they do," Hounsards pushed. "Plus Cobroy will know where he sent the young men, you can always just follow that lead, but as I say, I doubt they know where the girl is by now."

Grant stared at Hounsards as he thought. He didn't like it, but you could never defeat one criminal without helping another. The void left was always filled, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse, but never closed, never replaced with something good. Did that mean he shouldn't try to do good? He wasn't with the InterG anymore, did that mean he should leave the opportunity to take down criminals? Well, yes, he had left that behind to just find stuff, but... But he left because he felt that being part of the InterG, part of the system, was what was stopping him doing good.

"Alright," he said finally. "We have a job we were hired to do, but we'll see where it leads."

Hounsards smiled.

"You don't like it."

"Of course I don't," he said crossly.

"You see the problems in being good," Hounsards said to Kaskey. "So much easier being bad."

Regrette pulled a pistol, looked at it and then at Hounsards.

"I can't remember where I left my moral compass. If we're doing good to help bad, can't I do bad to help good?" he pointed the gun at Hounsards who looked at Grant with a slight smile.

"No," Grant said after a beat. "Let's go."

"Grant?"

"Yeah, Gulch?"

"I'm outside and you've got some mean people moving into the hotel. Heavily armed. I'm not saying it's for you, but..."

"Gotcha. We're off. Time to go, I suggest you come with us Hounsards."

"What is it?" Kaskey asked.

"Heavily armed coming our way," Regrette said.

"Remind me to give you an earpiece," Grant said to Kaskey.

"See what you're dealing with, Grant?" Hounsards said.

"You coming?" he replied.

"Why of course, I want to live to reap the benefits."

Grant considered leaving him there so he couldn't, but that would just cause another vacuum to be filled.

They went out of the door with their guns drawn. Except Kaskey who didn't have one, but it was OK because Regrette had enough stashed around his body for a small army.

"Gulch, get back to the ship and pick us up off the roof," Grant said.

"Wilco."

"It's going to take time," Regrette said.

"Can he, you know, reach the pedals?" Kaskey asked and Grant gave him a look.

"Well, I don't know."

"Can we go?" Hounsards asked.

"Yes, right. Come on."

They jogged along the corridor until they reached a corner. There were staircases on opposite corners of the building and they raced up this set.

"Can't we just take the lift?" Kaskey panted.

"Never take a lift in an emergency," Regrette said sternly.

"Alright, alright. Thought that was just fire."

"Good idea," Grant said

He ran along the corridor and smashed the nearest fire alarm.

"What are you doing?" Hounsards shouted over the din.

"Er, I thought that was obvious? I mean, I just did it in front of you," Grant shouted back.

"Think who's here, no one's going to leave their things unless it's a genuine fire."

Regrette pulled an incendiary grenade from under his coat and tossed it into an open door.

"Fixed," he said.

"You didn't check it was empty," Kaskey exasperated.

"Nope."

They ran back to the stairs to find the heavily armed goons already coming up. Grant and Regrette shot at them and they dived back for cover. People now came running past them and down the stairs as the fire alarm sounded.

"Get up," Grant shouted and Hounsards was already on his way.

Grant and Regrette followed them as the fleeing people were making it hard for a shot either way. The fire had taken a good hold and was spreading from room to room.

On the next floor they discovered more goons had come up the other staircase when they were shot at by them. They dived around the corner and shot back. People were just coming out of their rooms now, trying to lug anything incriminating with them and their security shot at the two groups shooting at each other.

"Up the corridor," Grant ordered and they ran.

They got halfway before more goons appeared in front of them and they dived into a now vacated room. Smoke was coming up the stairwells and creating a carpet at their feet. Which is where carpet should be. Regrette leaned out and fired, hitting the two goons coming down the corridor and nearly got shot by a bodyguard two rooms down.

"I'm not shooting at you," he shouted. "Just get going."

They ran along the corridor as the sprinkler system kicked in, pushing past the people trying to escape and went up the next flight of stairs. There was less smoke here and people were trying to get their stuff in proper order before rushing through the corridors. Grant shot a goon as they passed the floor and continued up.

"ETA?" he shouted.

"Five minutes."

"Could be five minutes too long," Regrette said firing down the stairs at goons pushing their way up.

"We'll be stuck on the roof," Kaskey shouted.

"Right," Grant said and darted out of the stairwell and into a corridor.

They all followed only to have to jump into a room as goons appeared at the other end. Grant leant out and fired at them before ducking back in to avoid their fire. Regrette knelt down before popping out below the goon's firing line and nailing the three of them.

"Come on," he ordered as he sprang up and out.

The fire hadn't reached this high up and people seemed to be waiting to see if the sprinklers would do the trick. They could hear the sirens of the fire brigade as it screeched to a halt outside.

"Goons behind us," Kaskey warned and Regrette turned around, running backwards and shot them before turning back.

"Nice," Grant commented.

They reached the other stairwell and bolted up it. They reached the roof, but the goons were close behind them, only kept at bay by Grant and Regrette's lasers.

They reached the top floor and had to leave the stairwell to find access to the roof.

"Alright, boy, your time to shine, find that access," Regrette told Kaskey as Grant fired down the stairs.

Kaskey took off at a run, there was no sign of the fire here and no sign that anyone had an interest in leaving their rooms. There were far less on this floor, bigger suites, and Kaskey wondered who was hiding behind those doors. How close was he to some of the biggest criminals around? He wasn't sure he liked it; yes he was technically a criminal, but he hadn't had much of a choice in the matter, and he was very small scale. Did that matter? He was pretty sure to people like Grant that a criminal was a criminal was a criminal.

At the end of the corridor there was a corner and at the end of that corridor was a door marked 'staff only'.

"This way," he shouted and Hounsards, who was already half way there, made no hesitation to run.

Grant and Regrette were shooting furiously and laser blasts were coming back up the stairwell and hitting the ceiling and walls around them. Regrette fired once more and then ran for the corner. Once there he poked around it and gave Grant cover as he ran. Straightaway goons appeared at the top of the stairs and it was only Regrette's sharpshooting that saved Grant's life.

"What do you do when I'm not around?" Regrette grinned as Grant dove around the corner.

"Try not to take on powerful crime families," Grant said picking himself up.

"Get to the door to cover me," he said shooting at the goons.

"Wilco," Grant said and ran up the corridor.

It was locked and Grant shot it before Kaskey kicked it open to find a flight of stairs. He and Hounsards ran up to another door and pushed it open as Grant took as much cover as he could.

"Come on," he shouted back to Regrette

Regrette took another few shots and then ran for the door, barely pausing as he ran up the stairs and Grant opened fire to stop anyone coming around the corner.

"You better be here," he said into his radio.

"I'm here, but we've got security," Gulch warned.

Technically they were police, but in a place like this they were so corrupt they were almost nothing like the other forces. In fact they were only technically police, but had little-to-nothing to do with the Universal Police Federation as they were funded almost entirely by the criminals they served.

The four of them burst out onto the roof to find the Lark had found a spot to land, but also found four police vehicles hovering above the roof. The only good thing was that the goons didn't seem to be following them up. Grant surmised that if they were who Hounsards thought they were then they wouldn't want their presence known to the police and thusly everyone else.

"Put down your weapons and raise your hands," someone said through a loud speaker.

"It's OK," Hounsards waved his hands. "It's me, Hounsards."

One of the police launches hovered lower and a man in police uniform jumped out.

"Mr. Hounsards? What's happening?"

"Assassination attempt, they're still in the building if you're quick," he shouted back over the din of the rotors.

"What?" the policeman said in shock and then made a twirling motion with his hands.

"Get down there and cover the exits," he commanded into his radio.

The police launches moved to the edges of the building and then quickly descended.

"We'll get them," the policeman smiled. "Who are these guys?"

"Just my bodyguards. They're new, I wasn't expecting to be assassinated today."

"Bad day to start," the policeman said.

"Tell me about it," Grant said.

"Real bad," the policeman said and quick-drew his gun.

There were two pops of laser fire and the policeman and Hounsards fell to the ground. Regrette put his gun away.

Grant looked at him and then walked over to the cop. He nudged him with a foot, but he was very dead, what with the hole in his head. Hounsards wasn't quite and Grant knelt over him.

"We'll get you out of here," he said.

"You want to save me to commit more crimes?" Hounsards said with a smile.

"Not really. But I will."

"Too late I fear," he croaked and closed his eyes.

Grant stood.

"You're getting slow, Regrette, you could have got him before he had a chance to fire."

"Must be getting slow," Regrette grinned. "Shame that."

Grant shook his head. He couldn't agree with what Regrette had done, but he couldn't mourn the loss of evil either.

"We'll take the body," he said. "Kaskey?"

"Oh great," he said but got it anyway.
CHAPTER 10

Gulch cruised The Albatross through space to the star-gate. He was happy to stare out into the void and not think too much. Driving back to the spaceport and flying in to rescue the others was more than enough excitement for him. He preferred to stay behind his computer and research, he preferred the universe of information found on the Web to the real Universe. The latter hadn't treated him kindly and he'd found no joy in the endless worlds he had bounced to and from.

Grant had found him trying to hack into a bank for the Cooldrii Gang and convinced him to use his talent against them. He was on the trail of a painting that the gang had stolen because one of them thought it looked nice. They had no idea that it was more expensive than the rest of what they had stolen put together. After that he had hired him; the painting was one of Grant's first cases after leaving the InterG and he had discovered he needed another set of hands or, as Grant had said, 'better yet, tentacles'.

For the first time in a long time, Gulch had found somewhere that he belonged.

***

Kaskey on the other hand was not so sure he belonged. He was sitting in the dining room pushing around a plate of food. He was just a small time hustler and although he didn't want to be that, he had found his niche. A place where he was himself, used all his talents to turn a space pound. And though in his quiet moments he had not liked doing what he did, wished to get out, he had been generally happy. This though, this was his opportunity to get out, do something stable that helped people rather than hustled them, and it scared him.

They were talking about criminals so big that even the InterG didn't know about them. Was that what he wanted? Was this really somewhere for him to be? Or was he just scared of an unknown future? He didn't know who these people were, but from the way others had spoken of them, he knew they were serious people in the Universe. Supercop, that's what Turnod had called Grant and they'd already met two big criminals who knew him. And Regrette? Gulch had said he was The Wraith, an Intergalactic hitman, but he just couldn't believe that. The Wraith was a myth and even if he wasn't, why would he be hanging out with an ex-cop?

The second thing that bothered him was that he was a criminal and if he'd learnt anything since he'd met Grant, it was that he didn't like criminals. Why then was he helping, hiring, Kaskey?

"You know you can eat that stuff too," Grant said and Kaskey jumped out of his thoughts.

"What? Oh, right. Not hungry, I guess."

"Big change from your usual."

"Yeah. Honestly? I was just wondering about that."

"Why I'm happily hiring a small time crook?"

"You seem to really hate criminals."

"I do, don't I?"

"Don't you?"

"Yup," Grant sat down opposite him.

"So?"

"So I don't know a lot of criminals so willing to help someone they admit looks like the police."

"I was trying to help Jonsy, remember?"

"I do. It was nice of you."

"I can be nice," Kaskey got defensive.

"Oh, stop it. You're not a bad man, you're not a criminal at heart, you've not moved up the ranks."

Kaskey deflated a little in his chair.

"Alright, alright, but what about you guys, huh? Do I wanna get messed up with you?"

"I just find stuff, Kas, can I call you that?"

"Not yet."

"Well then. I just want to hire you to help me find stuff."

"Like crime families?"

Grant pulled a face.

"Yeah, that's different from the norm."

"Is it?" Kaskey pushed.

Grant got up and walked behind the counter. He got two beers from the fridge and sat back down. He passed one to Kaskey.

"Honestly? Not as much as I'd like. I was running an op on Ulu, it's a moon of Vapistrador. Very pleasant. This was back when I was InterG, when I was thinking of leaving. There was a little shop there on the main street called Joe'll Find It. 'You lost it? I can find it', that was the motto on the window. I liked that and I went back later to talk to Joe and he told me how he mostly found things people had lost on holiday. Both Vapistrador and Ulu are hot destinations, so he mainly just returned stuff. Said it was easy work, got him around the Universe. It sounded like a nice way to live out my days."

"But?"

"But with my past, finding lost things is just a little part of it. It's a lot of bounty hunting and finding stolen goods."

"And you want me to join you in that?"

"I'll also be honest and say it's more fun than I'm making it out and we could use someone with your skills. Imagine hustling, but for the greater good."

Kaskey smiled at that and drank some beer.

"OK. For now. Not as if I've got anything else on."

"Good," Grant smiled and drank his beer.

***

They met in the boardroom. It had a long table that could seat ten and at one end was a large screen.

"A little overkill, isn't it?" Kaskey asked.

"There are times when it's full," Gulch said. "Sometimes we employ outside help, for sweep and search and the like."

Kaskey nodded in acceptance and took the seat opposite Gulch as Grant and Regrette walked in.

"About time," Gulch said.

"We've just been standing outside to annoy you," Regrette said and sat down next to him.

"Don't listen to him," Grant said and sat next to Kaskey, opposite Gulch. "What have we got?"

"Gothra and Cobroy, which one first?" Gulch asked.

"Give us Cobroy, know what we're aiming for," Regrette said.

Gulch looked at Grant who gave a slight nod.

"I saw that and I'm offended," Regrette said.

"He's easily offended," Grant told Kaskey. "Thinner skin than a Frontine toad."

"Just try it," Regrette warned and though Kaskey was sure he was joking, he wasn't that sure.

And certainly wasn't going to try it.

"Not a lot on him. Not recently anyway. Emerged after the Laikan War as leader of the Kelby Gang. Known for his brains and his vicious streak."

"They took over Exang's Gang," Regrette said.

"Yes. The rumour is that he killed Exang in unarmed combat. Except that Exang was armed and he still beat him," Gulch explained.

"Doesn't sound like an errand boy," Kaskey said.

"Explain," Grant said.

"Well," Kaskey thought it over again. "Hounsards said Cobroy came and picked the boys up, said they were just the kind of people he looked for."

"Good," Grant smiled. "You're right. Why would the leader of a gang want to become a scout for someone else?"

"It's a bigger gang, a better one," Gulch offered.

"Still a step down." Grant said.

"Not if he's running his own gang," Regrette said. "The Desards keep things compartmentalised, as do a lot of the big crime families. Keeps them safe. Cobroy would be hiring for his own work which in turn would be what the Desards wanted."

"What do you know of him?" Gulch asked.

"Crazy Flows put out a hit on him once. Crazy, the hitman, Crazy's close family all got whacked before they could even start."

"That doesn't tell us much," Grant said and Regrette gave him a sneer.

"The reason Crazy put out the hit was because Cobroy was taking on the Raiders. Stepping into their territory. Crazy thought it was bad for all of them."

"Durden Raiders?" Kaskey asked with surprise.

"No, the Calto Raiders Cricket Team," Regrette ironicalised.

"Good team," Grant said.

"Yes," Gulch agreed. "Their test against the Icardet 11 was one of the best I've ever seen."

"The point is, boy, that there are criminals and there are Durden Raiders and you better be big to step into Durden territory," Regrette said. "And also, yes, it was a great test match."

"So what happened?" Kaskey asked.

"The Raiders got Icardet all out on the last day with only one run left to win it," Gulch enthused.

"I mean about Cobroy."

"Oh," Gulch frowned.

"As far as anyone knows he took his slice and took over Crazy's territory. After that he disappeared. You'd only hear about him working the shadows," Regrette said.

"So what's useful to us?" Grant asked.

"If we're going bigger then he's our in, but he's going to be difficult to get to," Regrette said.

"Agreed," Gulch said. "But we don't have to go bigger. I've finally got a hit on the spaceship. It landed in the city of Vexupulla on the planet Cravalor two days after we know it was in Canberi'do."

"There or Gothra?" Regrette asked.

It was choosing time. Big or small. They could go and check out Vexupulla and hope to get a lead, but then they were always behind and Hounsards had been right. The boys would have handed the girls over by now. But if they went after Gothra then they were getting bigger, facing down far worse enemies. Making themselves a target.

"We go back," he said finally. "We follow the lead first. I think we'll still be coming here to find Gothra, but let's keep a low profile for as long as we can."

"You think they already know who we are? After the hotel?" Kaskey asked.

"I think they were after Hounsards. They knew he was talking, but we have to be prepared that they will come after us before we can get too far. The higher we aim, the quicker and heavier they'll come at us."

"Agreed," Regrette agreed.

"I'll turn the ship around," Gulch said and dropped off of his chair.

"Follow Gulch, he'll get you set up with a radio and earpiece," Grant told Kaskey who dutifully left.

The two men looked across the table at each other.

"You're stalling," Regrette said at last.

"Possibly," Grant admitted.

"You really think we'll find anything in Vexupulla?"

"I don't want to jump the ladder. I'm hired to find the girl, not take down a crime family. What if there is a lead there?"

"It's sound, but don't try and brush me off with it. You want to jump the ladder, you want to go for the top."

"Maybe I do, maybe I just want to go home and drink good Carute whiskey without anyone trying to kill me."

Regrette laughed.

"Now where's the fun in that? Keeps things exciting."

"I'm tired of always looking behind me, Steve; checking under the bed and in the cupboards every time I go home."

"Alright, alright, fair enough. But you know it isn't you," Regrette said as he stood up.

He walked to the door.

"They went for Hounsards," he said turning. "What's to stop them taking down Gothra?"

"Hounsards was talking to try and take them down, from what we know Gothra has helped them, is on their side," Grant said, but Regrette pulled a face. "What're you thinking?"

"I don't like leaving her out there."

"I understand killing people to keep yourself secret, but there comes a time when doing that just lights you up."

"Still. I might go watch over her," Regrette said and Grant nodded in thought.

"I'm not paying you, so why're you doing this?" Grant asked.

"Got to balance the bad with the good," he replied and left.
CHAPTER 11

Vexupulla was less of a city and more of a mass of sprawling suburbs. The planet, Cravalor, was incredibly flat with all the mountains clustered on one continent as if they'd all huddled there for warmth. A lot of the flat land was fertile farming land, but there was still so much left that the people felt no need to cramp themselves together and build upwards. Except on the small city-continent of Haffir.

"Doesn't seem the place to traffick people," Grant commented as they walked through the spaceport.

"Good place to get lost," Kaskey said.

"You been here?" Grant asked.

"Yeah. Mainly Haffir though, 'cause of the casinos."

"Right," Grant nodded. Good place to hustle.

They reached the security office and knocked. The door was opened by a Grey.

"Yes?"

"I'm Grant, we spoke."

"ID?"

Grant showed her.

"OK, come in, 'fraid it's a bit cramped."

Inside there was a bank of computers and screens that flicked through images from around the port. Apart from the Grey, Tandish, as she introduced herself, there was a Carute, Kov and a Merrick, Loveritto.

"Small gang for a big port," Kaskey commented.

"You don't have to tell us," Loveritto said.

"But you have people out there, right?" Grant asked.

"Of course, but still not many," Kov told them. "It's a peaceful city in a peaceful country."

"What about Naval presence? This planet was targeted by the Laikans during the war."

"Indeed," Tandish said, "but as they got pushed back to Tegariff Major the forces were taken from here to help there. They left a small force just in case, but that has all gone now."

"So this ship," Loveritto said pushing his chair over to a console.

"Right, this one," Grant showed a picture and told him the date.

Loveritto hit a few buttons and brought up a security tape.

"This is what we got, that's right, isn't it?" he looked from the screen to the picture.

"Looks good," Kaskey agreed.

They watched the tape to see the back of the ship open and the van drive out.

"Same van," Grant said.

They hadn't stopped anywhere to dump it and he assumed this was because they still had the girls.

Someone got out of the ship and wheeled over a refuelling station and got to work.

"Five guys," Kaskey said.

"Huh?" Kov asked.

"Turnod said five, but only four went to the nightclub."

"Handler," Grant said still watching the screen. It was impossible to make out the person's face. "Is there a closer camera?"

"Sorry, no and we can only zoom a live stream without the picture breaking up."

"That's OK. How long were they here?"

Loveritto fast-forwarded the tape until a van returned. He stopped and rewound to just before and they watched a different van enter the ship.

"Go back, I want to see that van," Grant said and Loveritto complied and paused it.

"New Cabberino," Kov said floating by Kaskey's shoulder.

"Gulch?" Grant asked.

"Already looking into it."

"Who's Gulch?" Tandish asked.

"The guy at our computers," Kaskey said.

"What exactly are you two doing?" she asked.

"These guys kidnap women, seems they brought them here. What I want to know is, why here."

"Couldn't they just be swapping vans?" Tandish asked.

"Possibly," Grant said.

"But if they have hostages aboard they risk an escape or someone finding out. Safer to use a stolen car until after the job is done," Loveritto said.

"I like your thinking," Grant pointed a finger-gun at him and fired.

"Dangerous to steal a car anyway," Kov said. "If it's reported it comes straight to us to look out for."

"And in a city like this, I bet that's pretty quick," Kaskey said.

"The police are good; the people are good, they want things to stay that way," Tandish said.

"Well that throws up another question, where'd they get the car from?" Grant asked.

"Are you suggesting there is a kidnapping ring here in our city?" Kov said somewhat offended at the idea.

"No," Grant said. "Why would they?"

"Casinos," Kaskey realised.

"Yes," Grant pointed at him. "Haffir. Casinos are heavily monitored, easier to get people in from on-world."

"Wait," Loveritto said holding up a hand. "If they are smuggling in women and taking them to the casinos, why are they leaving stolen vans here?"

"Yeah, it's a pretty big lead," Kaskey agreed, but Grant shook his head.

"Can you imagine if places like this had to look out for every single stolen vehicle in the Universe? They only get flagged if it's important and so far this van isn't linked to the kidnapping," he explained.

Tandish hit some buttons and three screens filled up with writing.

"That's all the stolen vehicles and criminals we're watching out for. Just the ones flagged up with the InterG as of special interest. That third list is a list of known criminals we're supposed to note on arrival or departure, but can't actually be arrested for anything," Kov explained.

"Wow," Kaskey said.

"So we need to find somewhere where they can get rid of cars," Tandish said.

"We?" Grant asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Today's our last day. We work one week on one week off."

"It's the only way they can get people to stay on the job, I mean look at it," Loveritto spread his arms and trunk to take in the room.

"So?" Kaskey asked.

"So you're going to need some local knowledge and I've got nothing in my diary," Tandish smiled at Grant.

"And you two?" he asked.

"I wouldn't mind actually catching one of these goodfornothing's for a change," Loveritto said.

Kov looked at them all.

"Well, why not? A change is as good as a rest."

***

It was already late in the day when they left the security office so they headed to a hotel with a contact for Tandish. They booked into the pleasant Sky Vapenner Hotel, named after one of the planets many famous birds, and sat in the lounge.

"Any hits on the van?" Grant asked over a Chokdee cocktail.

"No," Gulch shook his head. "But a couple on the tattoos."

"Cool. Let's have a look."

Kaskey pulled his chair around so they could all see the screen of Gulch's portable computer as he brought up an image.

"This one is in the InterG database because it was the tattoo of the infamous gangster Loodrod, but I cannot see why they would have that," he skipped to the next image. "This one because of a group of mercenaries who formed and disbanded during the War and finally," he skipped again, "this one. An odd one. It's in the database, but there is no real good reason as to why it is. Something about an alleged cult and nothing else."

"Does that help?" Kaskey asked.

"Only if we see someone with it. I can't see a group of well-to-do young men having any of them, or getting one when joining with Cobroy's gang," Grant said.

"Yes," Gulch agreed. "It doesn't make sense to have your minions get a tattoo that links you to them. Not if you wish to keep yourself a secret."

"Let me see them again, I wanna make sure I can remember them if I see one," Kaskey said.

"What about places to scrap cars?" Grant asked.

"Lots of places actually. A lot of farm machinery that needs fixing so a lot of big workshops and garages throughout the city."

Kaskey shifted his seat back and took a swallow of his drink.

"Good thing we've got locals then."

"We're still going to need to narrow it down," Grant thought aloud.

"I'll work on it," Gulch said. "For this sort of operation they will need a number of factors."

"You do this sort of thing with the InterG?" Kaskey asked.

"Not often, not my field."

"Yeah? What was your field?"

"It's the past, Kas."

"Come on, man."

"You revisit the past much?" Grant asked instead.

Kaskey's face dropped a little and he looked down into his drink.

"Yeah, sometimes. Mainly in space looking out of a window with a bottle of Ryffinger's."

Gulch laughed.

"Hey, man, it's funny to you?"

"No, I apologise, you just sound a lot like me."

"You?"

"What? I can't have a dark past?" Gulch said mock offended.

"Well, er, yeah, I guess, it's just..." Kaskey trailed off.

Grant grinned.

"There was that time that he had to break the vault lock at the Merrick Embassy on Tarmin."

"Oh don't, Ben," Gulch complained.

"What? Come on, what happened?" Kaskey pleaded with a grin of his own.

"The Jastworthiagg Diamonds were stolen and had been smuggled into a package that was destined to be held in the vault there. It was an impressive operation just to get it that far and Gulch and I were one step behind. We knew that the package was being moved again after a party there, it was to be given to a visiting dignitary from..."

"Jotar," Gulch said. "A Petruthsian galaxy, that's why I had to do it, remember?"

"Right, had to pretend to be a Petruthsian dignitary," Grant continued. "That's what got us in."

"You were my bodyguard, I seem to remember."

"And I seem to remember you playing that up," Grant said with mock annoyance.

"All for the role, Ben, all for the plan," Gulch said and winked at Kaskey.

"So what happened?"

"He was supposed to be breaking the vault code, but he was a little too good at his role and got snagged into conversation about intergalactic politics and the role of the UTN Councils. I had to go and do it while he tried to work his directions into polite conversation," Grant said and laughed at the memory.

"I was quite cunning," Gulch said proudly.

"He even ended up delaying the Petruthsian dignitary who was picking up the package. Completely unaware of the diamonds as far as we know. You know how he did it?" Grant asked slyly.

"I don't think we need get into details," Gulch said brusquely.

"Let's just say it had something to do with the dignitary's daughter," Grant winked at Kaskey and nudged Gulch.

Kaskey laughed.

"Well, I should go," Gulch said getting down with his computer. "Work calls. Good night to you both, I'll see you here in the morning."

"Night, Gulch," Grant said.

"Yeah. Sleep well and dream of dignitary's daughters," Kaskey laughed.

"I often do," Gulch replied with a sly grin and slithered off.

"Told you it could be fun," Grant said and motioned for more drinks from a passing waiter.

"Yeah, alright. I can see that."

"And we could use someone with your skills, Kas."

"And what skills are those?"

"Your way with people, your charm, your mouth and your knowledge of how the Underworld operates."

"I think you've got that last one sewn up, man."

"No," Grant shook his head. "Not in the same way that you know it."

"Look, you don't have to sweet talk me. You're right, I'm just a small time hustler with no aspirations to go any further than that. But we all get old, right? You already there. I can't be hustling forever."

"I'll drink to being old," Grant laughed as the drinks arrived.

"And I'll drink to still being young," they clinked glasses.
CHAPTER 12

They met in the lounge of the hotel after breakfast, the six of them, and Gulch ran through his possibilities. Tandish, Kov and Loveritto had different reasons for knocking places off of the list until they were down to just four.

"This won't lead us to them though," Gulch said.

"No, but you see here, Frart's," Loveritto said, "I nixed that because there is nowhere close for them to hold people. It's not that type of neighbourhood.

"But this one, Kayde's, this is in an area of warehouses and it's near the skyway," Tandish said.

"They don't have to be close," Grant pointed out.

"Why are they all in the city anyway?" Kaskey asked. "I mean, wouldn't they be better off out with the farms?"

"Too big of an area," Kov explained. "Big distances. If there's going to be travel involved you might as well set up in the city rather than the middle of nowhere."

"What would you want, Kas? If it was you?" Grant asked.

Kaskey thought about it.

"You drive in and drop off the people, you need to do that inside where no one can see. If it's regular then you need a place where it doesn't look suspicious having vans driving in and out all the time. Same goes with the chop shop."

"Yes. Good," Grant nodded and looked at the three security guards.

They in turn looked at the map on the screen.

"You'd have to be one and the same," Tandish said. "It'd be too risky to have vans leaving one to go to the other all the time."

"Yes it would," Grant agreed.

"Opamm's Parts," Kov said.

Loveritto pulled the screen closer and ran his finger through the air over it until he plonked his finger down on it.

"Here," he said.

Gulch pulled the computer over to himself and enlarged the area.

"Nice," Grant said.

"Industrial area, close to the skyway, they do parts," Kov explained. "Ship them out from there. Vans in and out all the time, large warehouse to store them all."

"Then let's go and take a look," Grant said and stood up.

***

They drove through the city, following the other three in Loveritto's car.

"Isn't this, I dunno, a bit easy?" Kaskey asked.

"Day's work for you is it?" Gulch asked from the back.

"No, man, just from all I've heard. These are big people and here we are just tracking them down."

"This? Us doing this? It's a rarity, Kas," Grant said. "Kidnapping gets bumped from local to InterG, but by then a lot of the leads are gone. Trying to put stolen vehicles and kidnappers together is often impossible.

"We've been lucky, not least in that these guys are new. Doing it for their own desires rather than for the money. Money leads to more money and that makes you careful to stay in the shadows. These guys are just thinking of the thrill of the here and now and they don't think they'll be caught; don't think they can be."

Kaskey looked out of the window at the passing buildings, every one of them on their own spacious block of land. All of them big. Land was cheap when you had so much of it. No one lived under the skyways they saw, often the wide roads followed under them. It was a far cry from most of the places he was used to. Rundown blocks that were built in the shadow of the skyways, full of poor and desperate people. Or estates filled with the people who worked long, hard hours for little pay in the jobs that kept the Universal Trading Network running. He still had an apartment in one such place and he wondered if he'd get back there to get his stuff; he didn't actually know where Grant and Gulch lived. Was it on The Albatross? Could he live in a spaceship with just two other people? He didn't think so.

"What's an albatross?" he asked.

"What?"

"Your ship. What's an albatross?"

"It's an Earthen bird. Known for spending most of it's life up in the sky," Grant told him.

"You've been to Earth?"

"It's our speciality," Gulch said. "Grant fits in."

"What about you?"

"I stay in the van."

Kaskey laughed. "I shoulda known."

"Here we go," Grant said and slowed to a stop behind the car.

He and Kaskey got out and walked over to the three.

"It's up ahead, thought it best not to get too close," Loveritto said.

"You're a natural at this," Grant said. "What we need is multiple passes from multiple angles."

They thrashed out a quick plan and then split up.

Grant walked past the front of the building. It was a large shop front with two big garage doors next to a small, glassed reception area. On one side of it was the large parts warehouse that Kov had mentioned and on the other an empty building that used to be a gym (according to the faded signage). All the windows were boarded up, but the door looked new and sturdy. To Grant's keen eye the whole thing looked wrong, a little too perfect, as if it had been deliberately made to look that way. Good place to hold people.

Opamm's Parts was busy with one of the garage doors open to show an open area not unlike a mechanic's you'd find anywhere in the Universe. There were a few people in there working, he could see the sparks of a welder flying and the sound of metal being hammered. There was a stack of large wheels and what looked like an engine hanging from a crane and then he was walking past the reception. It was nice. Clean and well-appointed with an efficient looking Grey standing behind the desk. And then he was walking past the gym and clocking it.

Then he crossed the street and walked around the corner. He was nearly a block away before he told Gulch to look into who held the lease on the gym.

While he was doing his run, Tandish was walking past the back. All the buildings were big enough to stretch back all the way and were all two story. Opamm's had windows up on the top floor, but she couldn't see in them from her angle and thought from the way the sun reflected that they might be tinted or covered. The ground floor didn't have much other than vents, air conditioning and two doors. Neither of which were open, but there was a small battered table and chairs out there for break time.

Across the road was a warehouse converted into a nightclub and she wondered if anyone who worked there saw anything suspicious, vans coming and going late in the night and the like. She supposed not from this side, but it would be a good excuse to be around here at night time if it came to that.

She reached the corner as Loveritto passed her coming the other way. She knew that Kov and Kaskey were also crisscrossing so they could spot everything without looking like they were looking. She didn't acknowledge Loveritto as she turned the corner, crossed the street and headed for the meeting point.

She had been thinking about the nightclub and had not noticed the abandoned gym next door, but she wondered whether there were girls being held on the top floor of the mechanics. Could she be that close to people in desperate need of help? She felt helpless at the thought and it churned her stomach. She wanted to go barging in there and help them, take down the people who would do such a thing, but she knew she couldn't. She had to wait, have patience, but she was going to be there when it did happen, she wasn't going to let Grant or the police make her sit it out. She even wondered if Grant would go to the police, he didn't seem the type to release control and he'd let them join rather than get police help already. Good, she hoped she was right on that.

***

They met at a café a couple of blocks away, Grant had gotten a table big enough for them all at the back and sat with his back to the wall. She noticed that and wondered who he really was. She'd seen films where the hero did it and she knew it was so no one could sneak up on them; who was Grant afraid might sneak up on him here? Or in general? Or was it just habit? That last one was worse in a way, that a person was so used to dealing with people who might stab you in the back that he had the habit of sitting against walls.

"Hi," she said sitting down across from him.

"All good?"

"Yes. I didn't see anyone, but I..."

"Wait," he stopped her with a hand. "No point telling it all twice."

She nodded and a moment later Kaskey came and sat down next to Grant.

"Beautiful day to be stuck in a dark corner," he said.

"I burn easily," Grant replied.

"You need to get some hair on you, like a real man," Kaskey laughed.

"Don't let Loveritto hear you say that," Tandish said.

"Say what?" Loveritto asked pulling out a chair.

"Nothing," she replied.

He eyed them suspiciously.

"Just banter, man, just banter," Kaskey smiled at him and he sat down.

"Nice to be in the cool. Hot out there," he commented.

"Man after my own heart," Grant said.

Loveritto was a Merrick, a race of large vaguely Human shaped creatures that might remind an Earthen of elephants. Except they had tiny ears and their trunk-like nose only hung to their breast and was wider than a elephants, starting as it did at their cheeks. Plus the whole walking upright, wearing clothes and having arms thing. Really not much like elephants at all when you think about it. The Victorians called them Merricks as no one could pronounce their actual name.

A waitress brought over two pots of tea that Grant had ordered and poured a cup each as Kov came floating up and landed on the table.

"All here in one piece, good," Grant said. "This is what I saw, add in anything extra and then we're go to Tandish for the back side and do the same."

Other than a flush of embarrassment that she hadn't noted the building next door; Loveritto had noted a new, sturdy looking door on the back of what Grant said was an abandoned gym; they didn't have much to add to the original accounts.

"Good work on the nightclub," Grant told her and she wondered if it was because he saw her embarrassment. "It'll give us some cover."

"You think anyone's going to believe you're going to a nightclub?" Kaskey asked him.

"If only his brain was as quick as his wit," Grant told the table.

Tandish wasn't sure whether they were serious, but Kov and Loveritto laughed so she did too.

"What's the plan?" Kaskey asked.

"Two options," Grant said. "Break in at night and hope to find some people to rescue or go in during the day and hope to get people to talk. If they're not here, we need to know what casino they sent them to."

"Did you see how many people were in there?" Loveritto asked.

Grant shook his head.

"I counted four," Kov said. "Other than the receptionist."

"But we can't know how many might be upstairs, or in the gym. If they are using it," Grant said.

"One of us could go in," Loveritto suggested.

"On what pretence, man?" Kaskey asked. "I'm just window shopping for tractor parts?"

Loveritto frowned.

"Hey, turn that upside down, at least you're thinking it through," Grant said.

"What would you expect to find at night? If they are holding people?" Tandish asked.

She felt weirdly jealous of Loveritto for getting Grant's praise; and for adding something to the plan. She wanted to be an active part of this, she wanted them to see she could do it.

"How active do you think they'd be?" Grant asked Kaskey. "If they're feeding the casinos?"

"Hard to say. I mean, I suppose it depends on how many casinos, but not too often, you wouldn't think? This ain't my territory, Grant."

"What about farms?" Tandish asked suddenly.

Grant looked at her in thought for a few moments.

"Go on."

"Well, I mean, we're thinking of women here, right? For, well, you know and stuff, but what about labourers?"

"Good. Good thinking, but you're asking us? You're the one's with the local knowledge, could they employ slave labour?"

The three locals thought in silence.

"Yes. I suppose so," Kov said finally. "Some of the farms are very remote."

"What about police?" Kaskey asked. "You'd risk one or two escaping here and there."

"Scale it back in," Grant said. "If we don't know, we don't know. All that matters is how many people will be around and we'll see that quick enough."

"We'd be better to stake it out for a night," Loveritto said.

"We would," Grant agreed.

"But we're not going to," Kaskey said.

"No. There's not time with a kidnapping like this. If they're not here we need to move on."

"If they are selling people to the farms, I want to know it," Tandish said forcefully.

She just couldn't picture it here in her country, on her world; such a thing. Treating people like cattle to be moved and sold just to be used and discarded.

"We'll find what we find," Grant said. "Gulch any news on that gym?"

"Just. It's all been hidden, but it looks like they are owned by one and the same. False names and dummy companies."

"Good, keep following that trail, I want to know how far it leads," he looked at the others. "Seems the gym is connected."
CHAPTER 13

While Grant, Kaskey and Gulch were breaking into the mechanic's, Stephen Regrette sat in a bar in the city of Pelluu. It was Regrette's type of place, big and bustling, just as busy at night as it was during the day. Full of bars and shows; nightclubs and restaurants. The world itself, Dwituf Minor, was only free from snow and ice in a band around the equator, getting more and more inhospitable as one reached the poles. There was a lot to see and do here if you liked the cold. And like to ski.

Gothra was alive and well though Regrette had quickly spotted her shadows. They were watching her, waiting to see if they needed to move. It was savvy; not acting rashly, watching events unfold. He knew a little about Gothra and supposed she was better for them alive if they could help it and Regrette knew she wouldn't have been if they had come here altogether.

But Regrette was good at this, he had to be, it was his job. He wasn't surprised, when he contacted Grant, to find he had gathered a little team around himself. That was what Grant did. What other ex-InterG would employ the help of an assassin-stroke-hitman?

And, of course, her. The spy. She didn't like him because of his work as a hitman, though she was quite alright with his being an assassin. That was, he thought, why Grant got on with him, he knew that being one, you might as well be the other. It was the same job whether it was UTN sanctioned or not. And Grant knew about being a weapon for the UTN.

And so he sat in the bar and watched Gothra from a distance. There was a dancing show on the stage with a group of Human girls, classy, not the type he was used to watching. You didn't learn intel in places like this, you learnt it in dives and backstreets.

He had seen one goon (as he thought of them) in the place and he wanted to shake him down, find out more. Regrette had a great deal of patience, you had to in his line of work, but he hated being idle. He liked information and he didn't like anything that wasn't leading to more of it.

He knew Grant would go after Gothra; go after Cobroy and ultimately the Desards. It was his nature and you couldn't stop that. He'd never known Grant to walk away from a chance to do something right. Something good. Maybe that was why Tsyrker joined him on his little jaunts. She'd be a part of this soon enough. She'd be annoyed that she had to call Regrette in on that Wotham thing and you knew she'd want to know how and why Grant ended up in the position he did. She'd find them, track them down to find out. When she did she'd sigh and tell them not to meddle, but she'd not only let them, she'd join them in it.

He smiled to himself. It was fun. Maybe that's why they both did it.

Now here was something interesting, someone was meeting with Gothra, someone Regrette recognised.

Koey V.

Koey was known as a 'shifter'. If you had something you couldn't get rid of then someone like Koey V could shift it for you. He was known to have links to the Durden Raiders as well as the Shen Mi and the No Fingers Gang. These high level contacts meant that Koey enjoyed the extra work of being an agent and setting up sales. Regrette was intrigued as to which of these guises Koey was wearing.

As far as he knew Gothra wasn't big time enough to be dealing with the likes of Koey. She was a club owner who worked various rackets through the clubs she owned throughout the Universe. By no means small fry, but not running with the big boys either.

Regrette was, hands down, the most dangerous person in that place, but nobody knew it. No one knew who he was, if they did then he couldn't do his job anymore. It was the same with the rich and powerful of the Universe. There were film and music stars; politicians and artists, businessmen and women that everyone knew. Then there were those politicians such as those in the Great and Minor Councils of the UTN; mine owners and the owners of corporations that owned numerous business; people that most didn't know, but could find out if they wanted. Finally there were people, mostly criminals, that no one knew of. This also included a number of mining magnates and people working in the highest levels of politics. They were so rich and so powerful that they existed in a Universe all to themselves.

It was altogether too intriguing that Gothra would have contact to Cobroy and now be talking to Koey, who one could presume had links with the Desards. The Desards who were even now watching Gothra to see if she needed to be wiped out. Regrette decided that a little more digging was needed before Grant showed up; in fact he was going to send him a message to hold off. Gothra wouldn't live long if she was seen being questioned.

Perhaps it was time to let Tsyrker in on their little adventure...

***

"I came here on the promise of answers and I've already got a lot more questions than answers," Rainsford Tsyrker said.

They were sitting in a lively bar down the road from the hotel where Regrette had found Koey to be staying.

"It's part of the excitement," Regrette told her before sipping from his whiskey.

"Things could get a lot more exciting for you," she warned.

"Oh really?" he asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

"In a finding-out-what-the-local-hospital-is-like kind of way."

"You have a weird idea of exciting," he said glumly.

"Come on, Regrette. What's all this about? What's Grant up to and how'd he get messed up with Wotham?"

"Don't worry about Wotham for now, that's less interesting than Gothra."

"Never heard of him."

"Her. Owns bars and clubs across the Universe, uses them for various criminal activities. Too small time for you."

"I know I didn't come all the way for a small time crook."

"No," Regrette filled her in.

"The Desards, huh? OK, that is interesting," she said.

She'd finished her drink as he spoke and she motioned to a passing waiter for two more.

"Could be a once in a lifetime chance at them," Regrette prodded. "Finding these boys while they're still green."

"Still alive, you mean. Kids like that don't last long in the Underworld. Think they can just leave when they don't like it anymore."

They both sat in silence as the waiter put their drinks down.

"So what's your plan?" she asked when the waiter had gone.

"I want to know what Gothra's deal is, I want to know her place in all this before we shake her down for information on Cobroy, but I also wouldn't mind having a talk to Koey. Not often he comes out of the shadows."

"Firstly, none of that answered my question, but secondly, why? Grant isn't earning enough from this to be paying you."

"You run at a low level, like Kaskey..."

"Who?"

"New recruit. You run at a low level and you see all sorts of nasty things, right? If you manage to work your way up you start to meet the people behind all those nasty things. The higher you go, you get the picture."

Tsyrker shook her head in frustration.

"You think I'm going to jump in on this with just your cryptic comments as justification?"

"Yup. If you weren't you wouldn't have come," he leaned back and drank from his glass.

Ooh, he frustrated her so much. He had brains and talents that he squandered instead of working with her or the InterG. Worse still he was a hitman, he murdered people for money. She couldn't see why Grant ever befriended him. Except she could, she also liked him in a can't-put-your-finger-on-why kinda way and had to admit she had fun working with him. Alright, and socialising with him, but he could also read her, knew how she thought and she didn't like that of anyone, let alone a criminal.

"I know that face," he said. "That's the 'I-hate-working-with-a-criminal-face. You know that I work for the UTN as well."

"It's different."

"It isn't and I'm not getting into this fight again."

"Fine. Then tell me your plan."

***

In hitman terms, a lone mark was often the hardest. There were hitmen all over the Universe and if you were into crime then there was always that chance that you were a target. If that worried you and you couldn't take care of yourself then you hired people who could. Lone marks meant that either the person was stupid, or that they could handle a hitman. Koey fell into the latter category.

They had a plan, it was a cunning plan, but it turned out that they didn't need it. Koey was sitting in the hotel bar having just finished a meal in the lavish restaurant. Regrette shrugged at Tsyrker and they went and sat opposite him in the booth. It was in the corner so he had his back to a wall, of course, and he sat on the end to make a quick escape and to stop someone like Rainsford sitting next to him and blocking him in. They all sat with their hands in their laps.

"Hello, Koey," Regrette said with a friendly smile.

"Seems you know me and I don't know you."

"Apparently so," Regrette said.

"I think you're misunderstanding the situation here and need to leave," Koey said with a touch of menace.

"Nope. You see powerful people like yourself think you're dangerous people. And you are, but not compared to actual dangerous people."

"Like you?" he asked.

"Exactly," Regrette grinned.

"Except I'm the one holding a gun at you under the table."

"Except," Regrette brought up a hand, "I took the clip out of it."

He waved the clip.

"How did you..." Koey started.

"And now I'm the one holding a gun at you," Tsyrker said. "Can you pull the same trick?"

He narrowed his eyes at them.

"What do you want?"

"Just information. There really was no need for guns at all. No. Gothra stole something from me, I want it back and then I see her talking to a known shifter. I couldn't let you leave if you had my belongings."

Koey stared at him. This guy knew way too much about him and what he did.

"Well, I ain't," he said.

"You don't know what it is," Tsyrker said.

"I wasn't shifting for her so I ain't got nothing," he said crossly. He hated being in this position, a weak, less informed position. He couldn't give them information, but he'd have to give something to get out of this in one piece.

"Then what were you doing?" Regrette asked.

"You think I'm gonna tell you?" Koey asked with genuine surprise.

"It's a family heirloom, Koey, and I want it back. I've heard Gothra's got links with Cobroy and the Kelby Gang and I'm getting worried."

"Get out of here, man; people like you don't get to question people like me."

"I'm holding a gun to your kneecap," Tsyrker reminded him.

"Alright. Somehow you got the drop on me, well done. For that I'll tell you this, drop it. Stuff ain't worth this, not even heirlooms. Cobroy's not running the Kelby's anymore. Even Gothra's too big for you now. Just walk away, alright? Walk away. You want anything else, I'll walk with a limp," he sat back.

Regrette also disliked his position. This was a chance to pump Koey for information, find out what he knew, who he was connected to, find out exactly what he was doing with Gothra, but he couldn't. To push too far would be to flag him up as something more, flag him up with the Desards and maybe ruin Grant's assignment.

"OK," Regrette held up his hands. "Fine. Listen, though, you won't say anything to her will you? This doesn't have to get messy, I just want my stuff back."

"You think I care about you or her? Have a go for all I care. Now, you done?"

"We're done," Regrette nodded and Tsyrker stood up.

"It was a pleasure, Koey, not often little people like me get to meet big people like you," Regrette said, still friendly, as he stood.

"Let's make sure it's just the once."

"Oh, I always make sure of that," Regrette's smile turned into a grin.

He pocketed the ammo clip and they walked away.

"I don't like walking away from someone like that," Tsyrker said as they entered the huge lobby.

"Me neither," Regrette said, stopping to look at the murals that decorated the top half of the walls. "But you don't have anything on him, do you?"

"No," she said with a mark of frustration. "How long?"

"To work out who I am?"

"Yeah."

"Not long. To get a suspicion."

"And then what?"

"Hard to tell, isn't it? He didn't seem too concerned about Gothra, would that change knowing a hitman is after her?"

"If you're right about Desard's people shadowing her then they don't want her dead."

"Yeah, at least not yet. What do they want with her?" he continued to walk to the doors.

"She has links with Cobroy, she's met with a man known to make deals for crime gangs and she owns bars across the Universe," Tsyrker said. "Sounds to me like she's moving up in the Underworld."

"Right," Regrette nodded, "makes sense. But why not just whack her and take over?"

They stopped at the large revolving doors.

"Too hard. Big operation like that, loyal employees. You can do it, but it can get long and messy. That's how we brought Hazco and his gang down," Tsyrker explained.

They both looked back into the lobby, neither of them wanted to leave Koey there without using the opportunity to their own advantages.

"Come on, we're here for Grant, not us," she said finally.

"Oh, alright then."

They walked out of the hotel and headed down the road.
CHAPTER 14

Opamm's place was officially closed though Grant could still see lights on inside. The gym seemed dark, but the windows were boarded up tight and if they were using it he thought they would make sure lights could not be seen from the outside. He wished Regrette was here with them, Tsyrker too. They needed the numbers. On a job like this both Gulch and Kov were out which only left four and only one of those had any training. Still both Loveritto and Tandish had accepted guns and both knew how to fire them. Turns out they got basic training for their job. Who knew space port security got training? He would have been a lot more careful over the years if he'd known that.

Ideally he'd have two people watching the rear, stopping anyone escaping, but as he didn't have the numbers and he thought those inside would fight rather than flee, they had decided on a straight assault. They had a little extra luck in that they could hear the nightclub's music from here, it would be enough to cover their sounds and would be louder inside the garage.

He and Kaskey crept over to the gym and Grant attached a little device to it.

"OK, we have an alarm," Gulch said. "Complex one too. Take your hand off of the pulse."

Grant made sure the device was secure and then let go of it. What the 'pulse' did was to send an electric pulse through the alarm's wires so they showed up on Gulch's computer screen. From that he could get an accurate picture of the system, how far it spread and how complicated it would be to disarm.

"OK, just 3D modelling it now. Hm, it's widespread, though either not across to the garage or it isn't enabled there yet. It's going to take some time to crack."

"Grant?" Tandish whispered over the radio.

"Yeah?"

"Two men have just come out of the back of the mechanic's for a break. They've left the door open."

"Take them out," Grant ordered.

"Shoot them?" she whispered, horrified.

"No. Just knock them out. Don't shoot anyone until we know this is the right place."

Grant and Kaskey moved along the wall, keeping low past the now dark reception area. Kaskey pulled out a lump of plastic explosive as Grant attached the pulse to the metal garage roller-door.

"Where's the lock?" he asked.

"To your left." Grant moved it. "Yes, there."

Grant moved back as Kaskey put the explosive where the pulse had been.

They heard a shout of surprise and then someone shouting 'hey, hey, hey," followed by laser fire.

"Valkswagon," Grant cursed.

Kaskey fumbled with the trigger before getting it in the plastic and then they ran to the side before Kaskey hit the button. There was a little explosion and Grant ran back, grabbed the door and shoved it up on its rollers.

He could see through to the back door where Loveritto was shooting from. Inside he spotted two people hiding behind benches with machineguns and he popped the first one as he ran to the cover of a big engine.

"What the shabbus?" someone shouted.

Kaskey went right and shot at someone before diving behind a pile of oil cans as tall as he was. Someone was on a gangway on the far wall and Grant shot him as he aimed upon Kaskey. Kaskey shot a guy trying to move cover to get a better shot on Grant and then four other people came out of a door that must lead to the gym. They fanned out, laying down machinegun fire as they did.

Loveritto managed to hit one of the men shooting at him from behind a small crane and he and Tandish ducked in the door and found cover behind a stack of tires.

Lasers twanged off of the engine that Grant hid behind and as they stopped he leant out and returned fire. As he did he spotted the feet of a goon hiding behind a large toolbox on wheels and felt bad as he shot them. More fire came his way and Kaskey used the chance to shoot at two men hiding behind most of a car that sat close to the wall with the gym. Grant leapt out of cover, sprinted and dived through the open door into the reception. A hail of lasers followed him, but Loveritto and Tandish shot at the people shooting at him and he had the chance to shoot the two guys hiding behind the car.

Tandish shot from behind the tires as Loveritto moved along them to the far wall, running the gap between them and a pile of old parts in the corner. From there he shot a goon trying to creep round and get the drop on Kaskey. Kaskey managed to run forward to the crane and hide there before popping out and shooting another guy and then there was silence.

"Is that it?" Kaskey asked.

"Tread carefully," Grant said.

They all appeared from their hiding places, guns first and walked to the centre. No one got shot.

Tandish looked sick.

"Not as fun as you thought, is it?" Grant asked.

"No. No, it's not. I, well, I, I..."

"It's OK," Loveritto put an arm around her. "They were trying to kill you."

Grant nodded and then turned and walked to the door that led to the gym. Kaskey ran to catch up and then they were walking through. The hallway was lit by dim bulbs and they could see a living area knocked together from old furniture. They walked up the old wooden stairs to find that the top floor was half open, partly partitioned into rooms, but they were all empty.

"Nothing," Grant said.

"At all?" Gulch asked.

"Oh there's plenty here, just no people," Kaskey said.

There were camp beds and rubbish, a small bathroom and an area for cooking. It looked and smelt horrible, like they were keeping animals there, not Humans.

"It's horrible," Tandish gasped.

"You don't need to see this," Grant said.

"I do. I need to see what those people did. Know I did the right thing down there."

Loveritto walked amongst the mess. He picked up a pair of handcuffs and jangled them.

"Yeah, here too," Kaskey said holding up a pair that were still attached to a bed. "Chained to their beds."

"Kas and Loveritto, go back into the workshop, we need to find something that tells us where they took the girls."

They nodded and left.

"You need to look at this then. You're a woman, look for personal effects, anything to tell us who was here, when or how many."

Tandish nodded and walked to the nearest bed. Grant checked the rooms, they had slightly better beds in them and little side tables with drawers in them. He went through them quickly as there was not much in them. He could find nothing personal to give away who might have stayed here. The guys that brought in the girls were professional at keeping themselves from being ID'd. Grant hoped that those that worked here were less professional; staying in one place and not getting caught made people lazy, hopefully they'd have more luck in the garage.

He went back through the three rooms on his hands and knees, but could find only dust and empty food wrappers. About to stand he spotted something. He flipped on to his back and wriggled back under the bed. Someone had stashed or dropped a casino chip under the mattress, perhaps one they'd forgotten to cash in and hidden until next time. He worked it out and then slid back out.

"Tandish?" he called from the door.

"Here."

"Anything?"

"Maybe."

"Bring it with you."

He headed back downstairs and did a quick sweep of the room and Tandish joined him. They found nothing linked to casinos, nothing linked to anywhere off-world. Once again the people bringing the girls in and out had covered their tracks and left no trace. Except for the chip.

They walked into the garage where Kov had joined them, busily hacking into the computer with the little arms that extended from his HoverSphere.

"Anything?" Grant asked.

"Nothing we can use here and now," Kaskey said.

"Some of it might help lead to others, if we had time to go through it," Loveritto said.

"I'm copying a lot of this," Kov said. "We could send it to the police."

"You?" Kaskey asked Grant.

He held the chip up between his finger and thumb.

"Bingo," he smiled.

"Let me see," Kaskey said and took it from Grant. "Loggajello Casino."

"It doesn't mean anything," Tandish said.

"True, but casinos often pay some of their money in chips, or throw some in, knowing that the person is far more likely to spend money there once the chips are gone," Grant said.

"And look at this," Kov said. "They supply the casino with parts."

"Don't see nothing like that in here," Kaskey said looking around.

"No. Just enough of a cover story if they needed it. When was the last one?" Grant asked.

"Not for a while, but I wouldn't think they document every van that goes there, that would look suspicious," Kov said.

"Agreed," Grant replied.

"But here. A new order for a bar just a few days ago. Installation of gambling machines is all it says."

"Name?" Kaskey asked.

"Hebero's"

"Gulch?" Grant asked.

"Got it, give me a while to peel it apart."

"OK, let's get out of here," Grant said.

They left via the roller doors, checking before they exited and ran across the street to the shadows. The music was finally dulled and Grant's ears were freaked out by the sudden quiet. He wasn't surprised that no one had seen anything of the fire fight. They wouldn't have heard over the music and there wasn't anyone walking these streets at night. Despite the open back door, those going to and from the club were obviously too occupied with their night to see or hear anything. It was often the way, people just didn't notice crime happening around them; living in their own bubble of hopes and worries, never expecting anything but the same old same old. He had interviewed too many people who had been metres away from murders, rapes, and robberies and not noticed a thing. Neighbours who hadn't heard screams or gun shots. They probably had, but the brain had just ignored them as unimportant, it was good like that.

Still someone would notice a garage full of dead bodies soon and they needed to be as far away as possible by then.

***

They obviously had no problem getting through the spaceport nor securing allowance to fly in-atmosphere from Vexupulla to Haffir and called the police on the ship's untraceable line to let them know about the garage.

The continent-city of Haffir was the complete opposite of Vexupulla. From a distance all you could see was a dark mass poking into the sky; as you grew closer you could start to differentiate the skyscrapers by the slivers of sky between them. As you got closer still you might see more sky between them, the widest gaps being filled with double and even triple decker roads that wound around the skyscrapers. To take a lift from bottom to top of some of them would have taken the best part of your day so it was quicker to drive up a few floors. Around the whole island was a triple decker ring road and there was one wide road that cut right across the island-continent.

The island was so jam-packed that the space port had to be built on a manmade island connected by a bridge and it was there that our heroes landed.
CHAPTER 15

As they'd flown Gulch had make a cracking discovery, going through the bar ownership he'd found that it was actually secretly owned by Gothra. And Gothra was connected to Cobroy. Grant had contacted Regrette who had filled him in and cemented the connection with the bar. Gothra had made deals with the Desards and now girls had been kidnapped to fill one of her bars. Only one? thought Grant, no there would be more if they looked. And more than just kidnapping; the Desards would use Gothra's bars in much the same way she had, as a front for all sorts of criminal activity.

"Now who else runs bars and girls?" Regrette had asked.

"The Shen Mi," Grant had replied.

"Yup. Looks like they're muscling in on the action. That could end badly."

"For a lot of people," Grant had finished.

Now they were driving through the streets in the van. Loveritto drove as he knew his way around, turned out he'd been a police officer in Haffir.

"You kept that one quiet," Kaskey said.

"It's the past," Loveritto deflected.

"At some point we're all just gonna have to sit down and talk about our pasts," Kaskey told the van.

"After you," Grant replied for the back.

"I said 'at some point', not now," Kaskey turned to face forwards again.

"I used to be InterG," Grant said.

"Then you know," Loveritto said back.

"Yeah. Yeah I do, man, it's cool."

"You know the worse thing about this city? It's built on lies. Everyone wants to come here 'cause they've heard the songs or seen the films set here; think it's magical. You don't get magic with this many people living this close together, but as a cop, you've got to keep that shabbus quiet. Can't spoil the tourism."

"Can't spoil the magic," Kaskey said.

"Don't they set crime films here? 'Endless Heat', that was here wasn't it?" Gulch asked.

"But again it's magic, film magic. Grant knows; big screen bad guys aren't the same as the real thing. Even the crime here is sold as part of the romance," he shook his head at the thought.

They crossed the bridge and Loveritto wound through the streets, give them a better impression of the place, he said. They drove around on the ground before Loveritto took one of the ramps up onto the next layer. Here they were driving about a quarter of the way up the skyscrapers, except for a few that were taller or shorter. It seemed that in any one part they had tried to make all the buildings one height. The tallest ones being in the centre, the shortest on the coast.

"Money runs up the buildings, right?" Kaskey asked.

"Yeah, the richer you are the higher you are. Most of the buildings are split into different uses and you can't get from the lower floors up to the richer floors. Lot of the casinos are split too, got to let the poor gamble their dirt away."

"You a gambling man, Grant?" Kaskey called back.

"Only with my life," came the reply and Kaskey smiled to himself.

"And how often is that?" Tandish asked.

"Not as much as it used to be, thankfully."

"That's good to hear," Kaskey called.

"I've got Kaskey to send into all the dangerous places now."

"That's less good to hear."

"Here're the casinos," Loveritto said.

There was a stretch of them, each having a circular driveway coming off of the road.

"Where do they park?" Grant asked.

"There's parking floors built into the buildings."

"Oh."

"Here's the Loggajello."

They drove past, Loveritto slowing a little, and saw a swanky casino with three double doors opening to the driveway and the casino's name surrounded by coloured lights. There were men and women of different races outside and they all dressed smart.

"Gonna be hard to get Kas in," Grant commented with a smile.

"Wait 'til you see the next road up," Loveritto said and took the next ramp up and did a U-turn when he could.

They drove by again and the building was even more impressive looking. The entrance was more ornate, the people dripping in jewellery, the cars more expensive and the whole thing tacky and gaudy in a way only really expensive things can be.

"We're gonna need to buy some clothes, Grant," Kaskey said.

"We have funds for such things," Gulch said.

"You do?"

"We do?" Grant asked as well.

"It's good business sense to take lucrative jobs now and then," Gulch said.

"You're loaded? I would have been twice as helpful if I'd known that."

"I've been in more shootouts since I met you than I have been all year, I think you're helpful enough as you are," Grant said.

"Yeah, I could say the same thing, Grant, the same thing."

They wound their way down the ramps until they were back on the ground and they pulled up to a more modest looking hotel.

"Cheap, but nice. We'll fit in here," Loveritto said.

"Doncha know he's loaded?" Kaskey asked.

"Is money all you think about?" Tandish asked as they got out.

"He's joking, pay him no mind," Grant said.

"How can they joke?" Tandish asked Loveritto after Grant and Kaskey went in to book rooms.

"Sometimes when you've seen bad things, that's how you deal with the world."

"What about you?" Kov asked him.

"You ever heard of a Merrick comedian?"

"No," Kov said.

"There you go then," he shrugged.

***

Hebero's Bar was on the main drag of the coastal road, a strip of one and two story buildings. It was an older area, in fact most of the older (and nicer) buildings were only one or two storeys. A lot of, even the newer, theatres and museum were not skyscrapers because even the residents of the city-continent appreciated that skyscrapers were crass.

Kaskey and Loveritto walked in and chatted away about cricket until they reached the bar. The place was happily full with a fun and friendly vibe to it. Kaskey spotted Grant and Tandish sitting at a table but neither of them acknowledged the other. Loveritto ordered drinks while Kaskey looked around. There were tables throughout the room and a dancefloor taking up one corner of the bar. There was music to dance to, but it wasn't so loud you couldn't hear your conversation. The crowd seemed young and well to do, but they certainly weren't going to the upper storey casinos, maybe worked at them. Finally there was a door at the back and Kaskey could spot a couple of bouncers close to it; though you wouldn't know they were guarding the door unless you knew what to look for. Private rooms then. If these girls were anywhere it would be back there.

It didn't sit right, this didn't seem to be that type of bar; these didn't seem like that type of people. From what he could see everyone was happily getting on with chatting up the opposite sex.

"Not what I imagined," Kaskey said as Loveritto handed him a drink.

"No, but it's new, isn't it? The delivery."

"Yeah. You think they're gonna change the bar?"

"I think sleazy bars get police attention, nice bars like this don't."

Kaskey just nodded. He was out of his depth here and happy for that. He wondered again about the wisdom of joining Grant; in a year's time did he want to find things like this commonplace? He wanted to ask Grant if he still got sickened, but they didn't have radios on them.

Grant didn't like to take radios unless they were actually on a mission. This was just a scope out and someone spotting their earpieces could stop them being able to come back again. That meant they were on their own as to what to do and Kaskey wasn't sure; he'd been thrown off by not entering the bar he'd expected to.

"Let's try and find a table," Loveritto said.

"Right."

They walked through the crowds, pretending to look for a table while they took in more of the bar. What Grant wanted was to feel out any Desard presence, just how difficult was it going to be to get to the girls, if they were here.

***

Grant had spotted the door at the back and the bouncers guarding it and in the time he had sat there he hadn't seen anyone go near it. If this was a new venture between Gothra and the Desards, probably through Cobroy, then this probably wasn't the crowd they were aiming at. Maybe there was another entrance out back, maybe they were still building and prepping. Was there something else about this bar that he was missing?

"I want to look outside," he told Tandish.

"What are you thinking?"

"That this isn't the clientele for girls."

"That's what I was thinking, but I guess that's good cover isn't it?"

"You're thinking it through," he smiled at her. "Good. But don't you think certain kind of men walking in and out of that door at the back would become obvious after a while?"

"So a back entrance."

"I want to check."

"What if it's not that kind of bar?"

"What else could it be?"

"I don't know. Like a dark zone?"

"Go on," this was interesting.

"Well, maybe some people can't meet at the casinos, like some can't get through a space port."

He nodded as she talked. It was good.

"It's good, I like it. Good work, Tandish. Good work."

She beamed at that and then tried to compose her face, tried to be professional. She'd had a good idea, thought it through. She didn't know why she wanted to impress this man, but she did. Maybe it was because he was doing something good, something that made the Universe a better place. How many people like that were out there?

"You wouldn't notice either," he continued. "A group of men and women coming through every now and then. You'd just assume they had a VIP area or private rooms."

"But," she picked apart her own idea, "would the casinos really not be able to hold secret meetings?"

"They'd be watched, I'd say, but we can check that with Loveritto. Come on, let's see what we can see out the back."

They got up and walked out to the door. Grant hoped Kaskey saw them, but didn't freak out. He wished he could tell him the plan, but was glad they didn't have radios. Those undercover bouncers would have spotted them, he was sure. Especially if something bigger was going down as Tandish theorised. In fact, if she was right, then this could be a lot harder as the security was going to be a lot tighter and more professional.

They walked out into the cool, still air. The street was lit and there was still traffic, but most of it was on foot. Haffir was known as a city that didn't sleep and that was one of its draws. Grant couldn't understand it, an island tightly packed with buildings that almost entirely blocked out the sun. No natural wonders, no history and yet everyone thought it was so wonderful. They made up for it with theatres, bars, museums and galleries along with the casinos and they pumped a lot of money into them to try and make them the best in the Universe, but it was still just a dingy, cramped, overpriced city.

They walked along the coastal road, the dark waters lapping not far on the other side of the street. They could hear people on the beach and see the light from a fire and some kind of party. Not far along they came to an alleyway and they ducked down it. Walking along the building Grant tried to judge where the bar finished and how far the building extended past those doors. An intersecting alleyway told him that the private rooms weren't that big and therefore all the action was happening upstairs. They wandered around the corner, acting as if they were just a tipsy couple finding their way through the city, but that didn't matter to the people they bumped into at the back of the building.

***

Kaskey gripped Loveritto's arm.

"Hey, man," Loveritto said in surprise and pain.

That's a tight grip when it hurts a Merrick.

"Look," Kaskey hissed.

"At what?" Loveritto asked with annoyance.

"That's Rudy."

"Let go, man," Kaskey dropped his hand. "What's Rudy?"

"There, the girl at the bar. That's Rudy."

"Who's Rudy?" still annoyed.

"One of the girls we're looking for."

"Oh. Right," Loveritto straightened with alertness.

They watched her get drinks from the bar and then go back through the door at the back. She looked tired and haggard. Sick and beaten down despite the fancy dress and hairstyle.

"We got to do something," Kaskey urged.

"Not without Grant."

"Where's he at?"

"How do I know?"

"We've got to do something, man."

"You need to calm down, Kaskey. We can't rush in."

"They went outside. Look around the back, yeah?" Kaskey rushed. "Right? That's what they'd be doing. We need to go. Come on."

***

"Get lost," one of the men said.

He was a Cantorvial. They were all Cantorvials and that was worrying. Cantorvials could be described as a cross between a Human and a tiger. They stood upright a lot like a Human, but their body and face was a lot like a tigers, except completely bare of fur. Their bodies were rippling with muscles and whiter than an Englishman who spends all his time indoors. Let's just say Albinos felt rosy next to a Cantorvial. They were also known to be mean and dangerous and had allied with the Laikans in the Laikan War.

They were also quite annoyed they weren't mentioned in that official title.

"Just passing through," Grant said merrily.

"No, you're getting lost," another said.

Grant tried to take it all in as quickly as possible. Yes, there was a back door and they were obviously guarding it. There wasn't a car there, but he knew it must be close by. By the size of the building the back door must lead straight into the room that the door inside led to, just a staircase then. It wasn't surprising that Cantorvials weren't going through the bar; they still weren't trusted after the war. Something was going on up there and they needed to step back and plan.

"We're getting lost, we are," Grant said drunkenly and started to turn with an arm around Tandish.

"Stop," the first commanded.

"Stay or go, what is it?" Grant asked with a goofy grin.

"You get a good look?" the Cantorvial asked, putting a hand to it's gun.

"Good look? What?" Grant asked in confusion.

"Come on, Ted, let's go," Tandish whined.

"You took your time," another said. "Checking us out."

"Never met a Cantorvial," Grant said.

"We a problem to you, Earthen?"

"I prefer Victorian, but no, sir. I ain't no problem with any race."

"You like Grey meat?" the second asked and the others sniggered.

"Now, come on, guys, that ain't nice," Grant pleaded.

"We ain't nice," the first said and pulled his pistol.

"We're going, we are," Grant said.

"Please," Tandish begged.

"Faster," one said. "Stupid Earthen."

And then Kaskey burst around the corner.

"They've got Rudy," he bleated. "Out back."

"Ahh, shabbus," Grant said.

The Cantorvial was raising his pistol as the others started drawing theirs. Grant dropped his arm from Tandish and pulled his pistol. They were fast, but he was faster. He took down one, then two. Loveritto's lasers took another two as Grant took down four and five.

"Earpieces," Grant commanded and they all fumbled to get them in.

He went to the door and took one side as Loveritto took the other. Tandish and Kaskey came up next to them. Grant nodded them to be ready and then shot the lock. Loveritto kicked the door in and Tandish and Kaskey went through.

They were in a room and on the opposite wall was the door back into the bar. To their right was a staircase up to the first floor. Grant took the lead and Loveritto took the rear. At the top there was a corridor and Grant shot the Cantorvial and Human that were standing guard there. Three doors stood along the corridor and Kaskey, Loveritto and Tandish took one each.

Grant nodded his head and they kicked in the doors.

There were shouts and screams and Kaskey and Tandish shot. Grant went to Kaskey's door to find a dead Reutorgian and a naked Human girl in a room with a bed, sofa, chairs and a small bar. A party room. Then to Loveritto's to find a meeting room.

"Kaskey," Grant shouted and nodded his head to Tandish. Kaskey ran past. "What've you got?"

"Got the girls," he shouted back.

Grant focussed on the meeting room. The men and women, of various races, were caught off guard and Grant walked in while Loveritto covered him. He grabbed guns from holsters and from under coats as Kaskey came in and did the same. There were seven people in there altogether and one of them decided to speak.

"This is not worth it," an Enthusian warned.

"Depends what this is, doesn't it?" Grant smiled at him.

"Well what is it then?" an Albertine asked crossly.

"Get the girls," Grant said to Kaskey who dumped the guns on the floor and went out again.

"Is that it?" a Reutorgian laughed. "A rescue mission for some nothings?"

Grant wandered around the table and then whip-quick punched him in the head.

"Nobody is nothing," he said angrily.

"Keep going like that and you'll find yourself in trouble that you won't be able to hide from," the Enthusian warned.

Grant looked around the room.

"Seems like you guys are the ones who like to hide."

"We find trouble," Loveritto said menacingly.

A Human looked him up and down.

"I don't think you know trouble."

"Got them," Kaskey said from the door. "The van's on the way round."

"All of them?" Grant asked.

Kaskey made a face, very slight, but Grant took it. All the ones that were here, but that wasn't all of them.

"Well there you go, you can go back to your nefarious plotting," Grant smiled at the table as he backed out. "Bit shabbus for a secret venue though, guys. Might want to look into that."

"We've got you," a Merrick said. "You won't go unpunished."

"And I've got you," Grant tapped the side of his head.

He and Loveritto ran down the stairs and out through the back door. The alleyway was just wide enough for the van and they jumped into the side door and sped away.
CHAPTER 16

Across the Universe, Stephen Regrette and Rainsford Tsyrker were conducting their own surveillance. They hadn't made it far down the road when they both decided they couldn't let Koey V go. He was, they reasoned, a much better way to the Desards that Cobroy, and anyway, how were they going to get to Gothra with the goons watching her? This could all be over if Grant found his girl at the casino and then what they had done here wouldn't matter anyway.

And if the Desards were trying to muscle in on the Shen Mi then that could certainly affect the universe that Regrette and Tsyrker walked in. So they went and found a coffee shop close to the hotel and Tsyrker used her portable computer to hack into the hotel's guest list.

"What am I looking for?" she asked.

Regrette gave her a list of the aliases he knew Koey used.

"And how and why do you know these?" she asked. "You're not going to pop him are you?"

He smiled at her.

"No. But I've done my research on him. For something else."

"I'm liking this less and less," she frowned.

"And what's your motivation?"

She looked at the computer screen and said nothing.

"As I thought," he mused and she continued to ignore him.

"Well, your research has paid off, he's on the list under Idroid Harnabuck. Expensive room too."

"Check the garage, he'll have a car, probably his own."

"I'd be surprised if he hired," Tsyrker said obviously.

"Just look."

"OK, yes here."

"Well then, we get in and bug the car before working on a plan to get into his room."

***

They wandered confidently into the garage under the hotel. It would have been better to go into the foyer and use the lift, but they couldn't risk Koey seeing them. There was no point trying to sneak in, that just made you look like you were up to something; the truth is you can get into almost anywhere unquestioned if you look like you should be there.

There would be cameras and ordinarily both of them would have spent the time finding and memorising plans of the building so they could avoid them, or take them out. Now they had to rely on their wits to spot them, but frankly, neither of them had a shortage in that department.

And so they did a dance through the car park, avoiding cameras and looking like they were trying to find their car in the sea of them. Finally they closed in on Koey's car. It was nice. Expensive and fast, the type of car Regrette drove.

"He's got taste," Regrette said.

"Just needs to go from A to B," Tsyrker replied.

"Mssh. You got something fancy and undetectable?"

"The latest tech," she assured him. "Anyone around?"

"No. Wait," they turned to face each other and had a quiet argument about the books of the author Graxode.

It was an old argument and they nearly didn't hear the old couple get into their car and drive off.

"OK," Regrette said. "But this isn't finished."

Tsyrker nipped over to Koey's car and slid underneath. She was done in a matter of seconds and then they were strolling back out.

"Undetectable?" Regrette asked.

"Yes," she said crossly.

They found a smaller hotel a few blocks down and booked in. They went to their rooms and agreed to meet in the bar in thirty minutes.

***

Tsyrker sent a number of messages to people she worked with and for; gleaning what kind of information people might want or need from Koey V. She was in a bad position, she liked Grant, he'd done good by her and she didn't want to ruin his case or their working relationship, but at the same time she would be expected to put her organisation and it's needs first.

She also checked out this Gothra, not a name she'd come across, though she was in the database. Even if she took Grant out of the picture there was still the question of how to play this. The Desards couldn't be allowed to extend their operations further and couldn't be allowed to take on the Shen Mi. Unless they could win. That was a game her superiors would consider playing if they thought it was worth it. It wasn't, it hadn't worked in the past, but politics played a large role in her job and some would rather see the Desards try and take over than the Shen Mi continue to grow.

Would it be worth taking Gothra out? To stop her dealing with the Desards? Or was it better to take down Koey as the agent between them? What was important in her eyes was stopping the deal happening, stopping the Desard Family extending and consolidating their power in the Universe.

She went back over the information she had on the Desard Family, what was logged in the database. Like all of the big crime organisations it wasn't as much as they would like, though a lot more than the InterG had. Even for her organisation the most powerful criminals, mining magnates and business people were hard to get information on. Even if you could get into the circles they moved in (which a few of her co-workers had) you couldn't ask questions or snoop without giving away your intruder status. The database had pictures and sketches of people seen at parties, but for whom no name nor occupation was known. Those that knew weren't telling; those that were telling didn't really know and those that knew and wanted to tell generally ended up dead long before anyone could get to them.

But it was impossible to keep completely in the shadows, life and the Universe could not be controlled to your desires. Sometimes someone lower down got to meet someone higher up; or meet someone who met someone who, well, you get the point. Sometimes other criminals let out information on their rivals; sometimes they managed to infiltrate the secret circles and sometimes criminals revealed themselves through blind luck. The longer you were around the more information there would be on you.

From what they knew, the Desards were a Mother, Father and two kids, a son and daughter. Pa Desard, as he was known, was a legend in the Underworld having built his criminal empire from nothing and alleged to have killed the great gangster, and his mentor, Shorty Fuller to kick start it. That was another classic law enforcement mistake. They were so happy that Shorty was gone and so confident that no one could fill his place to the same extent that they never tracked down and arrested Desard.

Nothing was known of Ma Desard, though it was generally believed that she was dead and that Pa had retired sometime after her death, leaving his kids in charge. The son, Hewy was known to enjoy parties and living it up though there was little to connect him to the criminal side of his family. It was the youngest, Maggie Desard, that most was known about. She had an active hand in the Underworld and was known to go about the Universe publicly. She played herself up to be on the straight and narrow and certainly no one had ever been able to connect her to any crime. Not even the murders that seemed to happen wherever she went. If you were going to go after the Family that would be your starting point.

But that had been tried before and failed.

Though no one had had Koey before, Koey in the middle of a deal. Would he give up Maggie to save his own skin? What if the Shen Mi knew what he was doing?

***

Regrette sat in his own room and thought about Koey V. About who he had links to. Regrette couldn't give a shabbus about people like Koey, they thought they were a whole lot more important than they were. People like Koey were useful, but easily replaced when they were no longer so. What interested Regrette was what Koey might have stored away for that eventuality. He knew a lot about a lot of criminals, knew how they worked and if he was as smart as he thought he was, he would have kept that information somewhere as protection.

But even that wasn't what Regrette really wanted. Regrette wanted the Son Desard, Hewy. Hewy Desard liked the wealth and privilege that his family gave him and though he didn't move in the same circles that his sister did, he still got out and about enough to sate his desires. It was just in a world that even Regrette couldn't walk through.

When he thought about it, he felt like an ant. The criminals and the hitmen; the police and InterG all scurried about and ,looking down at them completely untouched, were these others. People like the Desards were the Humans to their ants. To take down Hewy would not only satisfy his personal reasons for wanting to, but also elevate him up in the ranks of hitmen. He would have touched the untouchable, shown that no one was beyond his reach.

The question then was whether Koey could lead him there, or would it be better to go through Gothra to get to Cobroy? Cobroy was a part of the organisation, Koey wasn't. But Cobroy was a cell, he might have no connection to the Desards at all. It would be a ladder that he would climb only to find the rungs stopped before he got to anyone with the name Desard. Koey could jump all that, he was sure.

But how to do it, that was the question. How did he get what he wanted without ruining it for Grant? That was the ultimate, but if Grant's case had to fall for him to reach Hewy Desard, then it would have to. He just didn't want to get to that position.

***

They met in the bar, both with their own ideas of how to proceed, but they wouldn't get that chance.

"Don't get up," the woman said.

Tsyrker and Regrette had barely had time to sip their drink before the man and woman, both Tarancorts, appeared at their table

Tarancorts might remind an Earthen of a giraffe. They had a very similar head and a long neck that bent in an S shape so that their heads sat forward of, and level with, their shoulders. However, their skin was made up of large, tough plates that met each other at grooves. They were an odd race in that they were split almost 50/50. Some were mean and vicious, while others were very peaceful. Great architects and painters too.

The two Tarancorts sat down. The fact that they were happy to have their backs to the bar told both Regrette and Tsyrker that they weren't alone. Koey, it had to be, but how had he found them so quickly? And more worryingly, if they'd been followed, had the bug on the car been found?

"Did we look like we were getting up?" Regrette asked pleasantly.

"Didn't want you to think about it," the male said.

"Just trying to enjoy a drink," Tsyrker said.

"Well that's nice," the female said. "Isn't that nice, Tarko?"

"It's real swell," Tarko said.

"It would be if we could get on with it," Regrette said.

The male, Tarko, extended his neck forward and spat into Regrette's drink.

"Drink up," he grinned.

Regrette looked at Tsyrker and then back at Tarko.

"Now, that was not only uncalled-for, but just plain rude."

"I don't think we're dealing with the cultured side of their race," Rainsford commented.

"Well that depends on who you ask," the woman smirked.

"What is it exactly that you want?" Regrette asked. "Other than to spoil a perfectly good Handok Frosty Cocktail?"

"You've stepped on the wrong toes," Tarko said.

"I've got two left feet," Regrette shrugged.

"You won't be funny for long," the female threatened.

"He's not funny now, trust me," Tsyrker said.

They were both thinking different variations of the same thing. Who were these people and how had they found them? Unless this was completely random, and considering Regrette's career choices it could be, then this started with Koey, but did they work for him? It seemed unlikely that he travelled with a secret cavalcade so it was more likely to be Gothra or Desard's people. Would he have bothered the Desards with this? That depended on whether he knew who Regrette or Tsyrker was. More likely he had contacted Gothra about someone looking for her. Of course Gothra would know nothing about stolen items, but then she wouldn't be able to know of everything that went through her bars. The real question was how they acted. They couldn't take these two out and then continue on as normal, they would have to hit at whoever sent them.

Regrette looked around the bar.

"Don't you worry, we didn't come alone," Tarko said.

"Actually I was just thinking that this wasn't the best place for an assassination," he said.

"We can go elsewhere for that," the female grinned.

"But we're not necessarily," Tsyrker realised.

She desperately wanted to look at her computer, thankful that she hadn't got it out before these two idiots sat down. She wanted to see what the tracker on the bottom of Koey's car was saying. They'd said they had stepped on the wrong toes, but didn't seem to want to do anything. They were stalling them, keeping them occupied while Koey left, she was sure of it. After that? She didn't think they'd bother keeping them alive, they were flies in the ointment.

"For now you're going to tell us what you're doing here," Tarko said.

"We were trying to have a quiet drink," Regrette said without losing his cheeriness.

"In the city of Pelluu," Tarko said irately.

"He's annoying, isn't he?" Tsyrker commented.

"The Kladtorin Museum of Ancient Dwituf (Major and Minor). The ancient peoples of this system are fascinating. One of the few civilisations that left extensive ruins and writings."

"We know about the Uvartin people," Tarko was getting more and more annoyed with Regrette.

"Local then, are we?" Tsyrker asked with a wry smile.

The female pulled a pistol and Tarko followed suit.

"I'm starting to think this is a good place for an assassination after all," she warned.

"Mssh," Regrette said.

He scanned the room, knowing that Tsyrker had done the same. They had come in force and that pleased Regrette somewhat, though told him that Koey had, if not worked out who he was, had worked out he was someone not to be messed with.

Though there were a number of everyday patrons, the assassins were loosely bunched close to their table. This wasn't Desard's people, they didn't look professional enough, more likely Gothra's or some local gang Koey managed to find at short notice. Either way, 'assassin' was too high praise for them.

"Well at least let us pay," Tsyrker said. "Do we tip the table?"

"Yes," Regrette said. "We should do that now and get it over with."

Fast as lightning they grabbed the edge of the table and stood, flipping it up and into the faces of the two Tarancorts as they pulled their pistols at the same time. The others in the bar didn't have time to react, some just getting a hand to their weapon before they went down. It was all over in less than a fifteen seconds as Regrette and Tsyrker sat back down, pulling the table back with them. The two Tarancorts sat there stunned and with bloody noses.

"Looks like the tables have turned," Regrette grinned.

"Valkswagon, I'll shoot you myself," Tsyrker said.

"Who sent you and how did you know we were here?"

"We won't talk," Tarko said.

"Then you'll die," Regrette shrugged. "You're right, this is a good place for an assassination."
CHAPTER 17

Rudy and her two friends were shaken and shocked at their rescue. They had come to believe that it would never happen. After all, who would be looking for them? Who would care? They knew the police wouldn't be able to help as soon as they left the planet. And then suddenly they had seen a familiar face, heard the words that they thought they would never hear. It had only been days rather than months or years, but the scars would last a lifetime. They were confused by it, couldn't believe it was real; their dreams come true, hope they thought lost, fulfilled.

Grant questioned them despite Kaskey's protest; he understood of course, but they still needed any information that was useful. There wasn't much, they knew the girls had gone to the garage before this, but Grant wanted to know if they had stopped anywhere else first, any other planet, but they said no. What about other people, or information on their kidnappers, but other than descriptions they had nothing. There had been no one else on the ship. Had they heard the name Cobroy? Yes, they had, but only in the men's conversation; that he'd be pleased, that he wanted them to go to this world, that bar. What about other girls? Yes, four others, but they didn't know where they went after the garage, not to the same bar they were at.

He let them rest after that, take a bath, eat some real food as Gulch made arrangements for them to be taken back home to their families. It was going to make for an interesting conversation with the InterG and he knew he was going to have to stall them. They couldn't get to the girls in the casino, but he and his little gang could. He'd considered sending an anonymous message, but that would at best slow things down and at worst mean nothing happened. He'd just have to deal with the InterG when he had to.

The other thing he needed was more experience. Busting into a bar was one thing, busting into a casino was quite another. It needed a plan and it needed people who could pull it off and so he called Regrette. While they waited at the hotel he had to talk to Kaskey.

"You could have messed everything up," Grant said standing at the door of Kaskey's room.

Kaskey sat on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, I know," he replied with shame.

"Do you though? Do you? That could have been the end for those girls, the end for us. We can't just go busting into places without knowing what we're facing."

"Yeah, I get it," Kaskey snapped. "I ain't some hotshot InterG if you hadn't noticed."

"No, you showed that tonight," Grant said.

"Well what did you expect, man? I ain't cut out for this."

"So what're you going to do?"

"Dunno," he went for sullen this time.

"Take the ride back with the girls? Get Jonsy to declare his love and then go back to bumming around the Universe hustling people?"

"What if I do?" Kaskey said standing. "So sorry if I'm not good enough for you and your crusade to save the Universe."

"Shut up, Kas," Grant said quietly and that threw him.

He was expecting an argument, maybe a fight.

"You're better than that. You've already made a difference working with me. Already saved the lives of those girls."

Kaskey just stared at him.

"So you messed up, so now you're getting your lesson. You big enough to deal with that or you going to run away from it?"

Kaskey walked to the window and stared out despite there being nothing much to see, unless you liked brick walls.

"Regrette and Tsyrker will be here in an hour or so, the girls leave in fifteen minutes. I hope you'll still be joining us in the bar, but if you don't... Well, good luck and thanks."

Grant walked out and closed the door behind him.

***

"Happy?" Gulch asked him down in the foyer.

The girls were waiting for a taxi to take them to the spaceport, Tandish was going with them to make sure they got through OK and met their InterG escort home.

"He has to learn," Grant said.

"Does he? Does everyone have to become hard like you?"

"It's a hard Universe, Gulch."

"It is, but that doesn't mean one has to live in the hard parts. Doesn't mean everyone has to walk the dark and dangerous streets."

"Someone has to," Grant retorted.

"Does he?"

"Well, that's up to him now," Grant said and walked off.

***

Later they sat in the bar. All of them except Kaskey.

"Your student gonna come?" Regrette asked.

"He didn't leave with the girls," Gulch said.

"Doesn't mean he didn't leave," Regrette pointed out.

"I didn't leave," Kaskey said walking in and sitting down.

"Good," Grant smiled.

"Finally," Regrette moaned.

"Let's begin then," Gulch said. "I've found plans for the casino to give us a basic idea. The casino is split into three and as far as I can see there is no way to go between each from the inside. Each casino covers multiple floors with floors of hotel rooms and meeting rooms etc. above and then floors containing the workers. Kitchens, security and the like."

"Let's talk about that security," Tsyrker said. "What about guest lists? Can we just walk in?"

"There are basic checks," Loveritto said. "They might ask you to prove you've got the cash to gamble with."

"Might?" Kaskey asked.

"They don't want to bug rich customers, send them elsewhere, but if they suspect you, they'll check. It's an agreement of entry in all the casinos."

"If you're rich enough to be there, you aren't robbing the place," Regrette said.

"How do you know this?" Tsyrker asked.

"Ex-cop," Grant said.

"As Gulch said," Kov continued, "the plans indicate that there is no way between the casinos, we can't go into the lower, cheaper one and walk up. We need to be able to walk in at the top without question. Unless you're all a lot richer than I am."

"Mssh, shouldn't be a problem," Regrette said.

"Better poor than blood money," Tsyrker said.

"I'm sorry, I forget how much you get per coup," he retorted.

"Don't start," Grant warned.

"Let's say we breeze in, then what?" Kaskey asked.

"Then you need to get into the private rooms," Gulch said, "but it won't be that easy. Lots of security, you're not going to be able to just walk in."

"I can fix something up," Tsyrker said. "Fake IDs and backgrounds."

"You're still need to deal with security, you won't be allowed to just walk out with the girls," Kov said.

"Can you locate the security office on the plans?" Grant asked.

"Yes," Gulch replied.

"Then we'll need someone in there."

"No," Gulch said. "I can do it from outside as long as someone can hijack the line."

"Sounds easy enough," Regrette said.

"Well plans won't be good enough, we need to get in there and have a look around," Grant said. "How long, Rainsford?"

"Couple of hours."

"Then let's get on with it."

***

"How long did it take you to decide?"

"Huh?" Kaskey looked up from his folder to find Tsyrker standing there.

It was pretty quick to get fake personalities for them, seems they, or at least she, had a store of them. It took longer to hook it all up online. He had been given a folder to memorise; all the information on who he was if he was questioned by anyone at any time.

"How long did it take you to decide to stay?" she asked. "May I?"

"Yeah."

She sat down.

"About the time it took you to get here."

"This is not the norm," she said.

"So I keep hearing, but then you seem to hook up with him a lot and I doubt you be doing that to find a lost necklace."

She smiled.

"Depends on how expensive it is."

"You know what I mean," he grumbled.

"I do and you're right, but this is still an anomaly. In fact we've never done anything like this."

"Why do you do it?" Kaskey asked.

She thought about it for a second.

"I'm on the payroll."

"You what?"

"I'm employed by Grant. Just like you."

He looked at her intently.

"Nah. Too easy. What is it? Cover?"

She just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Alright, have it your way. So why'd you join the team?"

"To be honest? It's fun. I like hanging out with these guys, I like putting myself to the test."

"What do you do normally?"

"That I can't tell you."

"It was you with the Typans, wasn't it? Saving us from Wotham."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she smiled at him.

"Right," he looked back down at his folder. "And this? Is this fun?"

"Not the idea of kidnapped girls, but breaking into a casino? Yeah, I think it will be."

"You're one strange lady," he sighed.

She pulled his folder over and looked at it.

"I'll test you."

***

Grant, Kaskey, Tsyrker, Loveritto and Tandish entered the casino on the top floor. They could be wrong, but they were assuming that if anywhere, this would be where the girls were employed. They took two fancy hired cars so that they could enter separately and had no issue entering through the doors, even though Kaskey was obviously nervous.

"Just relax, nice and easy strides," Grant whispered to him as they approached the doors. "Just another hustle."

Inside, the foyer took up two floors and was lit by two massive chandeliers. The room was half an oval with ornate staircases running up the two sides.

"Don't look so impressed," Rainsford whispered to Tandish.

"No, right," she blushed.

"And don't blush."

"Sorry."

"Oh there you are," Tsyrker called and waved at Grant and Kaskey.

They met in the middle and exchanged greetings and comments on how lovely the foyer looked.

"Where first?" Grant asked.

"Let's get a drink," Tsyrker suggested.

"Good idea," Kaskey said. He needed one to calm his nerves.

He had to remind himself that he was here with 'heavy hitters', professionals, because he knew the security here would be tougher than anything he'd ever faced.

They walked between the staircases to the end of the room and through double doors into a large, lavish bar. It was filled with tables and comfortable chairs with a bar running the entire length of the back wall. This was where people met before and after their time at the tables to meet; toast their success/drown their loss and generally catch up. They took a table by the wall next to the door so that Grant and Tsyrker could sit with their backs to it. Once again Kaskey wondered if he wanted to hang around long enough to have to do the same. And if he did, how hard was it going to be to find a table long enough for them all to sit on one side? Loveritto walked over waving and took a seat as a waiter came by and they ordered drinks.

"How many operations run in a place like this?" Tsyrker asked.

"Not many. The InterG mostly, no locals," Loveritto said. "In house security deals with cheats."

"And how crooked is the House?"

"Actually depends on the casino. Some are all above board, others are run by a gang. Good place for a criminal to retire, 'go straight'," Loveritto explained.

"And this one?" Grant asked.

"Up until now I would have said it falls in the lower end, but if they use slave labour..." he trailed off.

"It's the 'above board' ones I always worry about," Grant said.

"You're very cynical," Tandish said sadly.

"In my experience if you don't hear of a criminal running a place, that just means they're big enough to hide," Grant said.

"You can't go around looking for criminals behind everything," she countered. "You have to believe that some things are above board, are just what they are, and run by good people."

"But not casinos, Tandish. They exist to suck money out of people. They hook you in and bleed you dry," Tsyrker said.

"Looks like it'd take a lot to bleed these people dry," Tandish said.

"Go and take a look at the bottom casino, full of people gambling away their savings, or their week's food money," Loveritto said.

Tandish just nodded, her face an expression of hurt.

"OK, come on," Grant said. "We're supposed to be having fun here."

"Well, what do you want to try first?" Tsyrker asked. "The only person we're bleeding dry tonight is Ben here."

"The Lukbat and Kuutio tables are on the next floor, a good place to get a feel," Grant said.

"Give me Kuutio over Lukbat," Kaskey said.

"You any good?" Grant asked.

"I've won some money in my time."

"Then this should be fun," Grant grinned at him.
CHAPTER 18

Kuutio was a version of Lukbat in the same way that Texas Hold 'Em is a variation of poker. In fact the two games are very similar, but where poker uses cards, Lukbat and its variations use coloured cubes.

Kuutio was like Texas Hold 'Em in that each player got three cubes and five other cubes are laid on the table one at a time, with betting going on in-between. In the same way that poker has different hands with which to win, so does Lukbat and Kuutio. The difference is that in Kuutio a player can choose to change a cube in the hand or choose to change the colour of a cube on the table. This means that other players can either see the colour you exchange for or guess at what you have in your hand by what colour you change a cube to. So it's all about bluffing.

They walked to the tables and the men took three empty seats as the girls looked on. Kaskey noticed that Tsyrker stood on the opposite side of the table to Grant, watching each other's backs, but it also meant that she and Tandish could get a good look around the room. They played a few hands and both he and Grant came out well, but Loveritto lost money each time.

"This is not my table," he said as he stood and then walked off.

He wound his way through the tables until he came to a Konklin table and decided to have a go. He'd always liked the game and he didn't want to pass up the chance to play it properly. With someone else's money to boot. He sat down at a table where he could see the far wall and the doors there. Beyond them would be the truly high-stakes games. Those with the real money to burn wanted to know they were playing against similar people, not ones that would fold and leave as soon as the stakes grew high. Considering the amount of money in this room, he couldn't imagine the sums that were bet in the private rooms.

He received his hand of numbers and while he waited for the others to receive theirs he looked around the room. It wasn't a big room, at least not compared to the sprawling casinos of places such as the deserts of Peskini. Most of the skyscrapers here were made to take up as little ground space as possible, hence the whole sky scraping thing.

The table was ready and the counter in the middle flashed different coloured lights until five numbers appeared. Loveritto began playing his hand and got lost in the game for another three hands before he remembered why he was really there and left the table. He was pleasantly surprised to find he'd made a profit.

He didn't think the girls would be in the private rooms on this floor so he wandered through the room to a flight of wide stairs. There were people standing on them, drinking and chatting and as he made his way up Tandish caught up with him.

"How're we going?" he asked.

"Good. Grant and Kaskey are winning, showing they've got the money and skills to play in the private rooms Rainsford has already gone up."

Loveritto merely nodded his understanding.

"Keep your eye out for security," he said. "We need to get a good idea of how many and if they are patrolling routes or just wandering."

It was Tandish's turn to nod.

The next floor was given over mainly to Rey'o, a card game based on speed. In it you had to place a numbered card from those laid out in front of you onto one of two piles until you had none left and then slapped one of the piles. The aim being to have taken the pile with the least cards until, ultimately, you had none left. It was incredibly stressful and nerve-racking and when you added in alcohol and gambling, well, you either had good security or you banned it altogether.

In Haffir it was normally only found in the bars and then predominantly in those along the coast where young tourists partied. It was commonly seen as a lower class of game, the rich generally didn't care for such vigorous games and Loveritto was surprised to find it here. He supposed that was some of the draw of this particular casino. The floor was certainly full of people. And security.

They wandered through to try and get a look at the back wall and the doors there. What would they lead through to? He didn't think they would be high stake games as with Lukbat downstairs. As they walked they saw Tsyrker at one of the tables, her hands a blur and her mouth a grin. The guy she was playing against just looked confused and miserable.

There was no way Loveritto was going to have a go, but Tandish seemed keen.

"Looks like fun," she beamed.

"Go for your life," Loveritto smiled back.

They watched a game and Loveritto talked her through it, as if they were a couple and he was letting her play. She just nodded and giggled like the silly wife with a rich husband.

"Here for a game," someone called and they looked over.

There was a spare seat at a table close enough for the Albertine sitting there to have heard them talk. He was figuring it would be easy money, but Loveritto knew Tandish. She had sharp eyes with a fast mind and he could see why this game might appeal to her.

The first game was money-free, an option you were allowed to call on to help get your eye in when first arriving, but also used to sound the other player out before you started betting. It was a hectic game, with five sets of cards to keep an eye on, add to that trying to bluff your opponent into betting more and trying to work out whether or not they were bluffing. Most places where the game was played warned of not playing over a certain age or if you were pregnant or had a heart condition. Heart attacks were not unknown. It was widely believed that was how Councillor Gorrovubo had died, though in reality he had been poisoned due to his involvement in what would have been the Karnolt Scandal (had he not been assassinated before it could become a scandal).

As she played through the match, Loveritto took the time to look around, acting like the doting, but bored, husband. The security presence was much higher here, though all the games seemed to be good natured enough. He considered that this was either the worst or best place to try and get through the doors. This would be the floor, if anywhere, that a diverting tantrum might be expected, giving enough time for someone to slip through the doors. But what was behind them? He couldn't see anyone actually guarding the doors, but plenty of security walked past them.

Trying to get to the girls was going to be hard, but he had to admit, he was quite enjoying himself.

***

Grant had left Kaskey to it, he was doing a lot better than he was. No surprise for a hustler. The only worry Grant had was that he would be too good, push too far while enjoying the moment. A good hustler knew how to play people, knew when to push and when to back off, but plenty got themselves in trouble because they got lost in the moment; the game; the chase and pushed too far.

For all of Kas' deep and meaningfuls about joining Grant's business, he was actually taking a greater risk in hiring him. He was a good kid, but Grant hadn't seen him at work. He was a criminal and that meant Grant shouldn't trust him; it could be that Kaskey was simply hustling him. And if he wasn't, could he do the right thing at the right time? He had already nearly bungled the rescue at the bar, would he also bungle this one? Could Grant leave him to his own devices, trusting him to make the right decisions? If and when the going got tough, would he bug out?

On the other side, he had a good heart and his skills as a hustler and his knowledge of the Underworld were very useful. To turn Kaskey away would be to send him back to a life of petty crime and that only ended badly. Either in prison, dead or you got too old with nothing to retire on. You couldn't live on petty crime so you either went straight or went big. He'd locked up a lot of guys and gals who had tried the latter.

Now he was on the next floor up from Tsyrker who he knew would be playing Rey'o instead of working. This floor was mostly Cannabact tables, a much more sedate game than the others and seen as an old person's game. There were less tables, but they were bigger. One of the draws of the game and it's pace was the social aspect. The tables were full, but there were less people overall and pretty much everyone who was here was at a table. It was nice to see some younger people around, listening to the older people's stories and tips on how to play. There was a lot more laughter from these tables than any of the others.

Grant managed to find a seat and was greeted warmly as he received his counters. It was easy to survey the room and he noted that again there were doors at the back, these one's not guarded, though there were a few security guards dotted around the room.

He chatted to the people next to and across from him, two men and two women. They were discussing a trip to Vestul.

"Go in Spring," Grant advised.

"Oh, yes?" the Oncolutian woman asked.

"Yeah."

"We'd heard Summer was best," her husband said.

"That's what they say, but I tell you Spring is better."

"And why's that?" the other man, a Tarancort asked.

"Everyone says go in Summer to see the Quorotoba and, yes, it's worth it. If you get to see it through the tourists. Most of the natural beauty of it has been lost to carparks and cafes."

"It's the same the Universe over," the Tarancort woman bemoaned.

"Yes," the Oncolutian man agreed. "Anything worth seeing gets ruined."

"It's not just that," Grant continued. "Something gets famous, mentioned in Vachier's Guide or the like and then that's it. That's all anyone wants to see and they miss so much more."

"So then, why Spring?" the Tarancort man asked.

"Firstly you get the Winter runoff. People go to see Hartlett's Falls, but it's not as famous as the Quorotoba because everyone goes in Summer. In Spring, after the ice melts, it's magnificent. Plus you get the Vestul Garn blooming over the mountainsides and the Tickentine Forest is amazing. And then you can stick around for the Quorotoba if you like, catch it early."

They all nodded in assent.

"Well, thank you, young man," the Tarancort lady said.

"The Singing Forest of Oswith, also better in Spring," Grant nodded to himself.

It was his turn and he considered his move before making it.

"Now, you're putting me in a tight pickle," the Oncolutian woman said weighing up what to do with her turn.

"Well let me ask you guys a question. What's with the doors at the back of each floor? Where do they go?"

"Thought so," the Oncolutian man said.

"What?"

"You're police," he said proudly. "Pegged you for it, I did."

"Ex," Grant said. "Used to be InterG, but they wouldn't give me holidays in the Spring."

The five of them laughed.

"Well it depends on the floor, dear boy," the Tarancort man said.

"It's not good to think about," the Oncolutian lady said with a frown.

"How come?"

"We come here because we always have," her husband said, "but it's not the place it used to be. You'd think gambling was bad enough, but people want more."

"Such as?"

"We don't go in for such things," the Tarancort man said.

"Now, come on, you know I'm not suggesting you do," Grant said.

"Girls, illegal substances, banned gambling, we hear all such things."

"Used to be owned by the Karillo Brothers, but they got themselves into trouble. Debt," the Tarancort man shook his head sadly. "Bought by a Gothra. Shady person."

"Gothra? How do you know that?" Grant asked surprised.

"Used to be in banking, still have some contacts. It was buried, but that was where the trail ended."

"Kept himself busy one terrible winter, that little search did," his wife said.

"Interesting. So what's behind these doors? Any idea?" Grant asked.

"Can only say I've seen staff come and go," the Oncolutian woman said and they all agreed.

"If you want to know more about the workings of the place, you should talk to Harper," the Oncolutian man said.
CHAPTER 19

They met back at their little hotel to share information. It was generally agreed that it was an inside job and that was good because Grant and Tsyrker had already booked rooms at the casino. Kov had also booked a room while the others were scoping the place out and was able to get some equipment inside. This was mainly audio equipment. For this they needed radios that couldn't be seen by security and such small equipment needed a boost receiver close by. He had also taken in equipment that would hopefully safeguard the radio transmissions as well as stuff that Gulch needed to help lock down the security.

"So what did we learn?" Grant asked before taking a drink of his beer.

"If we need a diversion, the Rey'o floor seems good," Loveritto said. "Not unusual for someone to have a blow out there."

Grant nodded.

"Yes. Good."

"Cameras everywhere," Tsyrker said. "I hate to assume, but I'd think they'd have a lot of people watching them."

"Good alarm system, I noticed it on all the doors," Tandish said.

"Right," said Grant, "making it difficult to do when the casino is closed."

"Unless we take out the alarm," Regrette said.

"Difficult," Gulch said. "Places like this, you can't cut the alarm from inside the building."

"You know that?" Regrette asked back.

"We're pretty certain," Gulch nodded.

"Where could we cut it from?" Kaskey asked.

"No idea," Gulch admitted.

"And how'd you go, Kas?" Grant asked.

"I made a name for myself. Showed I had the money to play with the big boys."

"Then we need to get you into a private room. Gulch, we'll need to fix the checks," Grant said and Gulch nodded.

"More checks?" Kaskey asked.

"You have to get a scan," Tsyrker said. "Prove you've got the money to play with the big boys. They're in there to play big money and get annoyed if you bail from lack of funds."

"We can do that?" Kaskey asked.

"We can reroute through a bank," Tsyrker said.

"Cool."

"And Stephen?" Grant asked.

"I had a wander. You're right, the security office is big. Lots of eyes on the floors and the manager was competent. Not the best I've seen, but not bad."

"Wait, you got out the back?" Kaskey asked in wonder. "Did you find the girls?"

"I found some girls," he shrugged.

"And?"

"And it's not like they let staff and guests wander into the places they hold slaves."

Kaskey just stared at him.

"But how did..." he started, but dropped it.

"And what about you, Ben?" Tsyrker asked.

"Well I found out the place is owned by our friend Gothra."

"Really?" Regrette said with interest.

"Which means it's now linked to the Desards," Gulch said.

"Right," Grant agreed. "Which makes it more dangerous. We've just raided one of Gothra's bars."

"Well if we're on their radar, we might as well keep going after them," Regrette smiled.

"We'll see," Grant said flatly.

"I don't think I want to be on their radar," Tandish frowned. "We have to work on this planet."

"You'll be fine," Tsyrker soothed.

"How can you know that?"

"I'll make sure of it," she assured and it worked.

Tandish didn't know who this woman was, but she spoke with a calm authority; walked with assurance. If she said she would, then she would.

"I also met a man by the name of Harper. Turns out he knows a lot about the casino."

"How come?" Loveritto asked.

"He used to work for the Karillo Brothers..."

"They used to own the place, I remember," Loveritto said.

"Yup. Forced out. Got into debt, but according to Harper that was by Gothra's design. He knew what was happening and he got out before it all ended, that's how no one knows him, but he sure is annoyed by it and looking for revenge."

"What happened to the Brothers?" Tandish asked.

"I did hear of them a while back," Regrette said. "Running a little beach bar on Doriss."

"Well old Harper hung about and waited for the new management to replace people and then got a job there as a watcher."

"A watcher?" Tandish asked.

"Watches the players, spots cheats," Kaskey said. "It's why I never tried casinos. Least not the big ones, watchers are too good. Known good people get taken down by them."

"You get a job like that, you get good access," Grant told them.

***

That night Grant sat in his room at the casino. It was plush, a perk of the job, though he was going to have to find a high paying job after this to top up his funds.

It was going to be risky, if they got caught they were dealing with some bad people. Especially if they were linked to the bar, though he doubted high up criminals would be too quick to admit they got caught out, especially as they lost nothing. Wouldn't be good if they bumped into one of them here though.

All this for one girl, well hopefully four, and logically his brain told him it wasn't worth the risk, but his heart told him a life always was. This wasn't some trinket someone had misplaced, this was a girl, girls, who had their whole lives ahead of them. And what was it that Hounsards had said? Find Maggie Desard and they'd find a lot of missing people. People whose lives had been taken from them. It made him angry to think about it. To think that people could use and abuse others as if they were not as real, not as important as themselves.

He decided to take a walk, perhaps find a drink. There was a bar two floors down and he headed there. The casino would be just closing up, but the hotel above it was still going. The bar was full and had a lively feel to it, Grant assumed there was another bar for people drinking away the memory of their losses, though at this level, maybe they didn't care. Some people had a well of money that never ran dry, but then it was that type of person who thought people could be bought, used and sold. Perhaps he should have stayed in his room.

He went to the bar and looked around while he waited for his drink. He could see Rainsford in the bar and even Kov. Kaskey would book in in the morning so it was harder to link them together. Regrette would find his own way in, as he was trained to do. He looked over at Rainsford as his drink arrived.

She was sitting at a table talking to two women about her own age and they seemed to be having a good time. That always surprised him about her. She was so serious about her job, he forgot she had a sense of humour, forgot she liked to relax. That was part of the reason she worked with him, he knew; that compared to what she did as a job, stuff like this was relaxing.

And Kaskey seemed to have settled down, perhaps because he was on familiar territory, using his skill set. Perhaps he was just focussed and forgetting the bigger picture. Grant couldn't blame him for being hesitant, this was not a nice world they were walking through and most people didn't want to see that. Thankfully most never did.

The Universe was an amazing place and the United Trading Network was a wonder. A body that spanned the entire Universe and, with the exception of the Laikan War, kept it peaceful. Everyone had the right to live happily and enjoy all the good things the Universe had to offer. He wondered how long it could last, surely they were living the dream and dreams flee in the light of morning. And it was people like Gothra, like the Desard family, that were helping to crack the peace. They were like rot that slowly spread through a house until the whole thing fell down.

***

She had been missing for fifteen days by the time Grant sat down with the local police. He knew he was dreaming because Kas was there and that wasn't right. They were sitting in an office as the officers ran through the case. All Grant could think of was the waste of time. Why hadn't this just come through to the InterG straight away? He went straight from the meeting to the scene and Kaskey followed along dejectedly. All he could do was moan that they were wasting their time and that the girl was gone. It was too late, Grant, you know that. Just file it and be done. Kaskey, who hadn't been Kaskey, would be the first in a long line of partners that Grant would have. He told his partner to go back to the station, file reports; do what he wanted. Grant was going to stick around though he knew Kaskey was right. There would be nothing there to find anymore.

No, that wasn't right, there was enough to look. His dream had jumped and he was interviewing a friend as his partner, now Rainsford, looked on bored while leaning on the doorjamb. It was all covered in the original police report, but it was through a different lens. That was what his superiors wouldn't see. They thought in terms of solving cases and they had timelines all worked out as to whether a case could be successfully solved or not. This case had already passed the line for being solved.

Except it hadn't, there was information here, there was a lead, but the locals had read it as a runaway. No one had bothered to come back to it when it had become clear that she hadn't. It was like a hamster wheel where all they did was change the hamster and hope it might get somewhere the others didn't.

***

The next morning Grant took an early morning stroll out in the streets. The casino didn't open until lunch time, at least the top one didn't. Mostly only those that catered to the desperate opened in the morning, though some of the more touristy casinos opened for jovial holiday makers to have a flutter before heading out for the day. He walked to the Grackhaus Gallery having read about it in his hotel room. It held a number of paintings by the artist Scofus and Grant was interested to see what all the fuss was about.

It was in front of 'The Crash of the Spaceship Theotarkin'; a massive rendition of a spaceship on fire that was about to crash into water; that he met with Kaskey.

They both stood and looked at it, not once looking at each other.

"They say it's on the planet Trinx," Grant commented.

"So I hear, though they've never found it so..."

"Yeah, hard to believe."

"You ever think about stuff like that?" Kaskey asked.

"There's enough to think about in the Universe without thinking beyond it. Or worse, to other Universes."

"I read a book on it once. Other Universes, I mean. It was left in a hotel room and I got so into it I missed my mark."

"Well let's focus on today. You ready?"

"Yeah. I really think I am," Kaskey nodded to himself

"It's a hustle, plain and simple."

"I know that, man, I didn't think we were meeting for a pep talk."

"Well you're getting one. You're not in there to save anyone, you're there for information. If anyone knows about the 'extras' the casino offers it will be the people in that room."

"I got it, I told you."

Grant put down a bag he was carrying.

"Clothes. Any girl you get to your room, get her changed and we'll walk them out."

"Cool. We done?"

"No," Grant said with frustration. "It's that attitude that'll get us all in trouble. Calm your jets, Kas."

They fell silent as a young couple looked at the painting.

"We're going in for one girl, Kas, like it or not," Grant continued after they had gone. "Above all we have to do the job we're being paid for. You don't endanger yourself or this mission to save others."

Kaskey couldn't help but look over at Grant.

"I know, alright," Grant said.

Kaskey looked at the painting again. He didn't know what to feel. They were going to leave others to the fate they were trying to save one girl from? He could see on Grant's face that he didn't like it either, but he had the brain of a cop, he had to make these kind of decisions. That didn't make it any easier for Kaskey to swallow.

"Alright, man, but if I can I will."

"Good," Grant smiled a little at the painting. "And Kas? If it all goes south, then just leave. Keeping your cover is better for everyone, including the girls."

"OK," this he could accept.

He didn't like it either, but as a hustler he knew when to walk away in order to win the long game.

"Good. Good luck," Grant said and walked off to look at other paintings.

Kaskey left to book into the Loggajello Casino.

***

Rainsford Tsyrker had gone to breakfast in the restaurant and then hit the gym and the pool. Afterwards she went to the reception.

"Good morning, madam," the Grey behind the desk greeted.

"I hope it is," Tsyrker replied. "My people should have contacted you about a private entertaining room."

"And under what name is that?"

"Coterro."

"Ahh yes, Ms Coterro, we've had something in this morning. You are entertaining a Mr. Charles who already has a room booked."

"Good, that is good to hear. He'll want to play the tables of course, but afterwards I want to make sure he has anything that he wants. This is a very important deal," she looked at his name badge, "Mr. Bozeernere. Can you do as I wish?"

"I am not in a position to say anything other than to confirm your room booking. I shall, however call down one of our events staff."

"Events manager," Tsyrker said firmly.

"Of course," Bozeernere nodded and picked up a phone.

"I shall meet with them in the bar," she said and walked away.

***

Stephen Regrette had spent the morning getting the casino ready for opening. He had cleaned tables and made sure that all the machines worked. He'd never tell anyone, but he really enjoyed it. He always liked this part of the job, pretending to be someone else, usually someone with a menial job, though he didn't think of them as menial. It was the little people that kept the Universe running. Kept it clean; kept it working; kept it communicating; kept it safe. And yet it was the little people who got trodden on the most. Got the lowest pay and no recognition. What would happen to the UTN if all the so-called menial workers stopped doing what they did? How long before people couldn't move due to rubbish? Couldn't communicate due to broken machinery? No more public transport, no one to make the spaceports run. But he liked it because he liked the work. Just walking around cleaning tables, taking pride in seeing them glean at the end. Getting chips and cards for each table knowing that because of him people could play. It was easy and his mind could be at peace. There was no threat of death because he did this job well, or failed at it. It was peaceful and he liked the attention to detail so many of these jobs required.

A security detail came in and began sweeping the tables for devices. This was done after the casino closed and again before it opened, they obviously didn't trust their cleaning staff. He and the rest of the cleaners were told to clear out. The room would be locked from now to opening and they made their way upstairs. He had looked in the private rooms to find nothing out of the ordinary other than the amount of gold that was used in the fittings. There were doors on the other side of the room, but they were locked and another cleaner came in before he could pick the locks.

He went through the Rey'o room and straight to the back doors. They were unlocked and he walked into one. It was, of course, a hustle room. Rey'o was known to get tempers flaring and anywhere that hosted the game was wise to have a room that angry patrons could be hustled into to calm down. Or at least not destroy any more property or faces. That would also mean that the doors on the other side of the hustle room would lead to somewhere that led outside. They couldn't evict angry drunks back through the casino.

He dusted the room, stopping to spray down what looked like a blood stain and giving it a good scrub, before moving to the door. It was unlocked and he peaked out. There was a corridor, bare of anything but lights and at either end were staircases, one up and one down. This is where he wanted to be, but to slip away now would mean missing out on what was on the next floor. A much more important room according to Grant's contact, Harper. This guy had been a great help in terms of how the casino ran. He shut the door and cleaned his way back out to the gambling floor. After a while the security detail came in and they left.

This was the least guarded room he knew from last night's surveillance, what with it being the room for mostly Cannabact tables. There were a few jackpot machines along one wall and again he made his way to the back rooms and again they were open for cleaning. He went in and found what he thought of as a coat room. There was only one room behind the doors and it was cut in half by a counter. He absently started dusting the top as he looked over it.

This was, as Harper had told Grant, an ordering service. This was where the staff came having been given instructions by people on the floor. He went back and closed the door before vaulting the counter. He stripped off his janitor's uniform to reveal a security uniform underneath. Kaskey would have been both confused and intrigued by how he got his hands on them. Contrigued, you could say. And if you're not by now you probably won't any time soon. Anyway...

He started to hack into the computer. It was a smart way of doing it, keeping it off the radio meant that no one could hijack the signal, or simply overhear. The computer was a tough crack, but not when he plugged in a simple device that connected it to Gulch. He didn't need to say anything, he knew that Gulch would see it and know what needed to be done. Unless Gulch wasn't at his computer, he chuckled at that (as if) and as the little light started flashing he knew Gulch was at work. After less than a minute the screen changed and he started looking at files. There wasn't much there, but then the cursor started to move on its own and Regrette stopped and waited. He could only hope this was Gulch taking over. He had to assume it was as he seemed to have cracked into further files or perhaps a cache of data. Regrette took control of the cursor again and looked through it. It was good stuff and he downloaded it all onto the little device he had plugged in. Smart move on Gulch's part, an all in one hacking device.

He logged out and walked out into the barren corridor.
CHAPTER 20

The casino was bustling and had a good vibe to it. Grant had to give that to the place. It felt like a fun place to hang out despite having the sole purpose of sucking money out of people.

He'd gotten dinner with Rainsford at the famous Javillion Number 1 Restaurant and they'd discussed the latest novel by Hondiet and the recent film adaption of one of his earlier works. They'd talked cricket and places they'd recently been. She didn't bring up Wotham, but he knew she wanted to. That would come later.

Now they entered the casino as a businesswoman and her client. She played the part well and he just nodded along to her endless spiel. They went to the bar and sat down with drinks.

"This could end badly," Grant said.

"I know."

"If it does we won't be getting out."

"They won't call in the police once they realise we're not robbing the place," she said.

"Nope. Kinda glad about that, I'm not happy about shooting security as it is."

"You and your 'innocent henchmen' shtick."

"They're just doing their job."

"For people who break the law. You can't believe they run illegal activity in a place like this without security knowing."

"Doesn't mean we have to kill them," he pouted.

"Then don't. Just make sure they can't shoot me," she smiled and he smiled back.

It wasn't a great situation to be in, but it was still fun to work with Rainsford. He liked having her around, the way she saw the world; the opinions she had. So different from his own. And then there was Regrette, totally different again and yet they all got along, complimented each other. Who'd have thought it? The ex-cop, the spy, the hitman and the hacker.

They finished their drinks and she took him to the Lukbat tables. Kaskey was already in there, watching a game and talking to a Reutorgian. As they watched a seat came up and the Reutorgian motioned to it and Kaskey laughed and took it. Grant and Tsyrker took chairs at another table and played a few hands, with Tsyrker complimenting Grant's game all through. Everyone would know exactly who they were; the city thrived on investment and she wouldn't be the only one there that night trying to butter up a client.

"Shabbus, I wish I had your agent," the Petruthsian across from Grant said. "I'd invest twice as much."

"She can get annoying," Grant replied.

"Yeah, but I haven't heard her mention your money all the time you've been here. All my one talks about. Thought the business stayed in the boardroom."

"Maybe we should swap," they were both talking as if their agents weren't there. "I might invest more if I had a better idea of where my money was going."

"I'll swap if she does business in the bedroom as well as the boardroom," the Petruthsian laughed as if this was the Universe's greatest joke.

It wasn't, that honour went to the one about the old lady and the Salway bird in Ictopia.

"I like the Earthen ladies," he continued with a chuckle.

"I'm sure a place like this can cater to your needs," Grant said. "I'm certainly hoping it can."

The Petruthsian said nothing, but winked at him. If Grant hadn't spent so much time with Gulch he wouldn't have known it was supposed to be a wink.

They played another hand and then Grant signalled for them to leave.

"Perhaps we'll see you later. I believe we have a private room booked," Grant said.

"For later, yes, Tsyrker clarified.

"Lovely," the Petruthsian said and rubbed his tentacles together. "Latroth is the name."

"Charles," Grant nodded. "Till later then."

They walked to the bar. Kaskey was no longer at the table, neither was the Reutorgian, and Grant hoped that meant his checks had cleared and he was in.

"Great, so now I'm going to have to fend off tentacles," Tsyrker frowned.

"You could always shoot him," Grant grinned.

"I'll shoot you if he touches me."

***

Loveritto and Tandish were on the Rey'o floor and Tandish was having a great time. Loveritto worried she was having too good of a time, he didn't want to see her get addicted, nor lose Grant's money. At this point that didn't seem to be a problem, though her opponent's tempers might be. She finished a game and he insisted they go to the bar. She was unhappy about it, but his stern face reminded her that they were there for a reason.

They took seats near to the tables so Tandish could continue to watch. She had never found a game that used her hand to eye coordination like this. There were sports, of course, but the stature of the Grey was not suited to most of them. Neither was her personality.

"They should be getting into position by now," Loveritto said.

"How long do we wait?" she asked.

"We'll hear, remember?"

Right. They had the ear pieces in. She had forgotten about that and was glad for it. She had been terrified that someone would notice it; that it would fall out or that someone would say something and she'd jump.

The plan for them was simple. If nothing else was working then they would cause a distraction allowing for someone to slip through the hustle rooms. If it had been working and now wasn't they would knock out whoever dragged them into the hustle room and find the others. If all went well then they were to leave and help get the girls to safety.

"I thought we might do more," Tandish said.

"You seem disappointed."

"A bit, yeah."

"It's not like in films."

"How come I never knew you were with the police?"

"You never asked," he smiled.

She thought about it.

"But we have talked about our lives, Loveritto, cooped up in that little office."

"It's just something I left behind. I got tired of working for the casinos instead of for the police. They're in everything in this city, Tandish. You can't do anything if they don't want you to, even arrest people."

"So why not just go somewhere else? Transfer?"

"The options weren't great. Hard places to police. I guess I'd lost my passion by then."

She smiled at him.

"Back on the beat now though."

"Yes," he smiled back.

***

Kaskey had met up with Awz, the Reutorgian he had played with the night before. He'd made it clear he had more money to bet, but it wasn't that easy. While his funds were being checked, Awz wanted to check him out, make sure he had what it took to play with real money. He must have impressed because as soon as the check cleared he was invited back through the doors.

The room was impressive, a lot of gold everywhere, including the two tables in there. One table was full, the other only half. The first table seemed to have a serious game going on, but at the second they were messing around, no doubt waiting for more players. A waiter brought him a drink and showed him to a chair.

"This is Koloskaine," Awz introduced. "He heard there might be some real gamblers in this city."

"You been to Zazo?" a Human asked him.

This had been in his folder, information on all the expensive casinos throughout the Universe. He had to pretend he was a seasoned gambler and well-travelled.

"The Honnee Palace," he said. "Bit too much show, not enough serious playing for me."

"Right," the Human laughed. "All glitz and glamour, but they took away tables to build a new stage."

"If I want entertainment I'll go to the theatre," an Oncolutian agreed.

"What about the deserts of Peskini?" Kaskey asked. "I liked that the desert gave you nothing to concentrate on but the game."

"Depends on the casino," a Byfrok said. "Too many tourists out that way for the islands. Tourists ruin casinos."

"Hence the private rooms here," Awz smiled.

"Different type of tourist here anyway," the Byfrok said.

Byfrok could be described as somewhere between ants and Humans. They had two legs like a Human, but then their body was shaped to accommodate another two sets of arms that ended in pincers that could be used as feet. So 'arms' wasn't an entirely accurate description. The body came to a point between the two pairs of 'arms' so that the thorax was an hour glass shape and could swivel like a second pair of hips. The head was neither ant nor Human, it was an ovoid, like a stretched out egg, with a small mouth on one end, much larger nostrils flat to the head and eyes on the side that stuck out so it could look forwards.

"This can't be it though, I mean just, what? Three private rooms?"

"There are others you can book, but they're for the one's that like the show," the Human said.

"Hey, I'm not adverse to a bit of show, especially a private one, once I've got my gambling done."

"We can look into that later then," the Oncolutian said. "But for now, some serious gambling."

Two Tarancorts had walked in and now took seats, giving them enough players for a good game and they wasted no time in dealing out the cubes.

***

Gulch pressed a button that sent a quiet beep to everyone's earpieces. It let them know that he was about to start talking without, hopefully, making them jump.

He and Kov had been testing the connections and making sure they were secure, the last thing they needed was security, or anybody else, picking up their chatter. They could also switch on and off links so that they could talk to individuals without the others getting distracted by it.

"OK, we are live," he said. "Please confirm you are in place and ready."

They had all been given words to use in the affirmative and negative that they could use within their environment without raising suspicion. For instance Kaskey would say 'nice' for yes and 'interesting' for no as such comments to yourself wouldn't sound out of place in a game of Lukbat.

Gulch got affirmatives from everyone and checked their positions through the security cameras that he was hacked into thanks to Regrette.

"How's the feed?" he asked Kov through a different channel.

"No traces on it, we're still dark."

"Good," he nodded to himself.

He watched Regrette on the screen. What they needed was more access to the cameras, but those that would film anything illegal were on a different system to the ones filming the playing floors. There was nothing else for him to do so he went back into the hotel's computer system.

Regrette had found the system by which people could order things to their rooms or to a private function room such as Tsyrker had booked for Grant. It made him a little sick to look through the list, it was quite detailed in what you could get and what you could do with it, but none of it as troubling as the reason they were there for anyway. What was an issue was that there wasn't any way of choosing a girl, if that was possible it must go through an actual person. That meant they couldn't find Veronica Miles.

Still, he could book Loveritto and Tandish a room each and get a girl sent there. That would be two freed and though Grant was right in his insistence they get the girl they were hired to get, Gulch wanted to save as many as he could and he knew that Grant did too. Every person they left behind would eat away at him.

"Where are you, Regrette?" he asked.

"You're not keeping an eye on me? I'm hurt."

"In terms of your goal."

"Oh. Just about ready."

"OK, Ben, make your move."

***

Grant and Tsyrker excused themselves from the table they were on and walked to the door to the private room that Gulch told them Kaskey was in. A security guard stopped them and checked Grant's card.

"More than enough," Tsyrker ensured him.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And you'll see he has access, arranged through the Events Manager."

The guard looked down at his little computer, nodded and pulled the card out and gave it to Grant. He opened the door, but as they were about to enter he stopped Tsyrker.

"Sorry, ma'am, only he has access."

"But he's my client," she protested.

"And he'll have a good time in here, don't worry, but it is strictly gamblers only."

"It's OK, Ms. Coterro, I'll meet you out here in a little while," Grant said.

"If you're sure, Mr. Charles. I'll be waiting for you," she smiled at him and glared at the security guard before walking off.
CHAPTER 21

"I need an in, Gulch, what can you give me?" Tsyrker said.

"We know from Harper that the plans are doctored to hide the illegal activity and Regrette found the room service for illegal goods so there must be a connection from the corridor behind the private rooms to the hotel floors."

Harper had known a lot about the casino and also the wiring of the place, but he didn't know much about the hotel nor the illegal areas, so they were still in the dark there.

"So we could just get girls sent to our rooms?"

"Yes, I thought about that; I could get Tandish and Loveritto a room too, but I don't know if you can choose your girl."

"And if we get into those corridors we should be able to find where they keep the girls," Tsyrker realised.

"Yes, but we need the cameras first, Regrette is about to go with that so hold tight."

"OK, on hold."

"Ready, Steve?"

"How informal of you, we must be friends."

"Are you ready?"

"As ever, here we go."

***

Regrette had slipped a little device onto the bottom of one of the Kuutio tables on his way out after the security had scanned it. It was unlikely even a place like this could detect the kit they were using, Tsyrker supplied them with the best her organisation had. According to Harper the tables were linked into the security systems to stop people tampering with them whilst playing. All Regrette needed to do then was to find another access that Gulch could play with. He found that in a router to the sprinkler systems and had thrown in another device onto a jackpot machine just for fun.

"You got the link?"

"I've got it."

"Show time," Regrette grinned to himself.

Gulch hit a button and the Kuutio tables shorted out, the cubes on the table going dark, some of the jackpot machines switching off, some of them spewing space pounds into the faces of the surprised but happy players. As quickly as they went off they came back on again; the Kuutio tables were built to weather power cuts and the cubes came back the same colours they had been, but the players were still thrown off their games and annoyed.

Gulch notched it up one and this time the cameras flicked off and then back on again and if they weren't scrambling before, those in the security office were now.

"Electricians dispatched," Gulch told Regrette and began to guide him after them.

Regrette followed Gulch's instructions and joined the group of four electricians, now dressed as they were. At this point Kaskey would have definitely given up asking how.

"I found you," Regrette grinned.

"Who're you?" an electrician asked as they jogged down the corridor.

"McQuarrie, you got the memo right?"

The lights dimmed and brightened. Security rained down expletives from the radios on their belts.

"Whatever, come on," the harried electrician said.

They went up a flight of stairs, round a corner, up another and came out on one of the floors of the hotel. The lead electrician stopped at one of the rooms and fumbled for his key. Once inside Regrette realised this wasn't a hotel room, but a room of fuse boxes and electrics disguised as one. Very cunning as these were the electrics that ran the tables, the important security cameras and the alarms. Each electrician went to a different cabernet of electrics to try and find the fault and Regrette went through the wires and whirring stuff before he found what he was looking for and planted his device.

"Got it," Gulch said.

Regrette made some noise as the cameras fuzzed over and more expletives came across the radios. He made an 'aha' noise.

"Think I got it," he declared as the radio agreed with him.

They stood and waited until they were happy that nothing else went wrong and then left, wiping their brows and happy not to lose their jobs. Or get shot.

***

Loveritto was nervous. He realised it had been a long time since he had done anything like this, if he ever had. His police career had lasted twenty years and he had little to nothing to show for it other than regret. He hoped that after all this was over he might talk to Grant about his time with the InterG and reason for leaving. But that was for later, now he had to focus.

Tsyrker was on the Rey'o floor and he and Tandish had made a show of how she wanted to play and he wanted to go upstairs to the more sedate Cannabact tables. She urged him to have a game, teased him even and then went off to play a game. He had to play it exactly right, had to kick up enough of a fuss to cause a distraction without getting taken through to a hustle room. If that happened he would have to convince them he was OK to go back on the floor, but even if they allowed it, he would be watched.

He got himself into a game and didn't have to try too hard to be rubbish at it. He was a Merrick, they weren't known for their speed or dexterity and the smug face of his opponent, knowing he had an easy win, annoyed him. He did have to appreciate the bet his opponent made after the first game. He knew he could easily win, but he didn't bet so high that Loveritto would walk away.

Loveritto chugged his beer, waved at a waitress for another.

"Go on then, I think I've got my eye in now," he said grumpily.

His opponent's grin widened at the size of Loveritto's bet before he tried to keep a neutral expression.

They played the game and of course Loveritto lost. The harder he tried the more he fumbled and at the end he was insistent they play again, that he got too heated and that he knew how to approach the game now.

"Only if you're sure," his opponent said.

"I'm sure," Loveritto snapped. "Are you?"

"Yeah, man, of course."

They played again and again Loveritto tried to win as he found that was the best way to lose. He let his frustration boil and as he lost his money he cursed loudly.

"Valkswagon," he pushed his chair back forcefully as he stood and it crashed to the ground. "Stupid game. Racist game," he shouted.

Security hadn't had an issue for a while and they all leapt on it. Tandish got there first though, ready as she was, and started to cool him down. He watched Tsyrker out of the corner of his eye and when he saw her disappear through a door he let himself be cooled down.

By then he was surrounded and Tandish was trying to placate them.

"I'm OK, I'm OK," he declared. "I'm sorry, sir, he apologised to his terrified opponent.

"It's cool, man, it's cool."

"You should come with us, sir," one of the security said.

"No, no, I'm fine. Embarrassed, but fine."

They all looked at him and he really did seem fine. He had cooled off quickly and Tandish picked up his chair, still running off calming phrases.

"Cannabact is more my game," Loveritto said.

"Then perhaps you should stick to that, sir," the security officer said.

"No more Rey'o or we'll evict you," another warned him with menace.

"Don't worry, officers, I'll keep him clear," Tandish assured them and began guiding him to the door.

***

"OK, I'm in," Tsyrker said.

"Head left and up," Gulch told her.

He skilfully guided her and worked the cameras so that she wouldn't be seen in the security office.

"Come into my office," Regrette grinned from a door and she nipped inside.

They were in a little storeroom of women's clothing. All vacuum packed and stored on shelves.

"I got you something nice," Regrette said.

"A room that's obviously in regular use, good place to hide," she sarcasticised.

"Well put this on and let's go," he said holding out a security uniform.

She didn't bother to ask him to avert his eyes as she changed, they'd both seen the other naked; it happened in situations like this; you couldn't be a prude when speed was of the essence or you had to do what you had to do to escape. It briefly struck her that with and without Grant, they had been through a lot together. In a lot of scrapes, the most recent being the Wotham situation.

Still, though he didn't turn away, he didn't look either. Should she be mad at that? That he didn't look? Was she that uninteresting to him as a woman? It sometimes annoyed her that she had had to give up some of her birthright as a woman to succeed in a job. That she had become so focussed on it that she had become it. Not a person, just a job.

"What now?" she asked once changed.

"Now we find out how to get to the street. Well, I say now, but I mean later."

"I'll have to get to Grant."

"First let's look at what we're dealing with," Regrette said. "How many girls do they have here?"

"Harper said around twenty."

"I think he's underestimating."

They walked out and down the corridor until they came to a flight of stairs.

"Up or down?" Regrette asked.

Tsyrker thought about what Harper had told them.

"Up, closer to the hotel rooms."

They ascended the stairs and two floors up they heard voices. They walked out into the corridor to find a number of doors along one side. And a man opening one and guiding a scantily clad girl inside. As the door opened out came the waft of music and laughter and the clink of glasses.

"Private function rooms," Tsyrker whispered.

The man walked back past them and they watched as he reached the stairwell and walked up. They continued along the corridor aware that Gulch could only manipulate cameras for so long. At the far end the corridor turned right and at the end was a door.

"That's my exit," Tsyrker said and Regrette nodded.

They turned around and walked back, doing their best to look like they were patrolling and hoping that security did that here as they did on the casino floors. Otherwise they'd look mighty suspicious in the security office.

They walked back to the stairs and up, moving quickly to try and catch the guy who had just gone up there. Each floor they came to became a little more interesting. On one they found the money counting room. One big room filling this hidden area of the building. There had to be another 'official' area for anyone who checked, but this was where the money from the illegal activities was counted and laundered back through the casino. They walked around the room as if they were supposed to and none of the five people in there took any notice of them; far too busy feeding cash into counting machines and then taking out the bundles and sending them down shoots or into safes.

They walked out again.

"I wouldn't mind doing something with that," Regrette said.

Tsyrker shook her head.

"Think of the long game, we can't flag ourselves up with the Desards."

Regrette frowned, but knew she was right. They continued up the stairs and on the next floor found what they were looking for. A large open area of men and women of various races with open doors that led to rooms. There were security guards around as well as other men and women who would work in 'entertainment'. Looking after the girls, getting the right ones to the right places. There looked to be twenty-five girls and ten men in there by Tsyrker's quick count and that didn't count any already out. They didn't look unhappy, there as a lot of chatting and comparing clothes, people making the best of a bad situation, but a closer look at their worn faces and haggard eyes told you the real story.

They walked back to the stairs, not wanting to be spotted by the other security guards and questioned. They didn't think the whole 'I'm new here' thing would stick when it came to harbouring slave labour.

"I need to get back," Tsyrker said.

"I need one of those uniforms," Regrette said.

"Because it brings out the colour in your eyes?"

"I'm going to find that exit, get Tandish and Loveritto down there and just lead people out."

"We'll need a bigger van," Tsyrker said with a smile.
CHAPTER 22

"This is Koloskaine," Grant grinned at Tsyrker. "A new friend, he's going to come to the private room with us."

"As you wish," Tsyrker said. "Why don't we go there now?"

They left the playing floor and Tsyrker led the way, filling them in as they went.

"No. No way, too risky," Grant said. "They'll catch on straight away."

"What else are we going to do, Ben? Leave them here to their fate?"

"You want to go around to every casino in the city?" he shot back. "We can't save everyone."

"But we can save these," she pushed.

They went quiet as they walked through groups of people and up a couple of flights of stairs until they reached the private rooms. Tsyrker opened the door to the one they had booked and pressed a button to call an events staff.

"That door goes out into the restricted area," she rattled the handle. "One way opening, we can get out as they come in."

"And then what? They'll pick us up on the cameras; Gulch won't be able to hide us all."

"Kaskey?" she asked.

"I dunno, man. I just work here."

"Lot of good you are."

"Well I don't get it, you two seem to have swapped," Kaskey said. "I thought he was the nice one and you were the hardnosed one."

"He is and I am and that's why he'll regret not getting the rest of them out," she spoke to Kaskey, but stared at Grant.

He stared back with his best hard stare.

"I don't need to tell Loveritto and Tandish, do I?"

"No," she smiled. "They're already procuring a bus."

Grant shook his head.

"You in on this Gulch?"

"Regrette was already putting the plan in motion, I had to help."

"Alright. OK. Let's do this."

"Hello, hello," the Human male said as he opened the door. "Having fun are we? Not a big group."

"Rey'o," Grant said. "He's going to teach me before we go back onto the floor. Have some fun while we're here too."

"Of Course, Mr. Charles. Mr. Koloskaine. What are you looking for?"

"Girls," Kaskey grinned. "Three or four would be nice."

"Nice, but expensive," the events staffer smiled pleasantly.

"You worry about the nice, we'll worry about the expense," Grant said.

"Very good, sir. Some drinks as well, no doubt. Here is the bar. You have the Halim package which gives you a thousand space pounds worth of amenities, after that the expense will be added to your room."

"Fine, fine," Grant said sharply.

"I will call someone to set up your Rey'o table. Now what about girls?"

"Human," Grant said. He gave a rough description of Veronica Miles as his type.

Kaskey said he was easy, just bring a variety. The staffer nodded and left.

"Gothra will come looking for us," Grant warned.

"Aren't we looking for her?" Tsyrker asked back.

"Not necessarily."

Tsyrker just shook her head at him and let a smile flick across her face.

Someone came in and set up the table in the room with a game of Rey'o and then left. It would take a little longer to get the girls organised and Tsyrker went through what she and Regrette had seen. The room would of course be bugged, but Gulch would be messing with the signal, making it hard to hear whispers. It was Gulch that instructed them to play a game of Rey'o, guiding them through the actions he needed to record and feed the images back to the cameras in a loop.

"Here we are," Regrette said coming through the door. "Come on, girls."

He ushered four girls through, one of them being a tired and ragged looking Veronica Miles.

"To your taste?" he asked.

"Very much so," Grant replied getting up from the table.

"Cameras are on loop," Gulch told them.

"Don't let the door close," Tsyrker warned, but Regrette still had a hand on it.

"OK, girls," Grant said. "We're getting you out."

They all stood there and looked at him blankly.

"We're taking you home," Kaskey said.

He could see a glimmer in their eyes, but they wouldn't let it through, or perhaps couldn't. Any idea of ever getting home had been crushed from them, it was unimaginable and thusly their words made no sense.

"Come on, just follow them," Tsyrker said.

Grant opened the door back out into the casino and looked around. It was clear. He looked back into the room.

"How do we get back to you?"

"I'll go down and open the door. There's a little alley way alongside the casino, you can't see the door from the outside, so just wait for me," Regrette said.

"Alright. Kas?"

"I'm ready."

"Get Loveritto up to Kas' room," he said to Tsyrker.

He looked back out of the door and then signalled to the girls. They were starting to come out of their torpor, or were, at least, used to being taken to men's rooms.

"You do this much?" Grant asked Veronica, half dragging her along.

"What?"

"Go to rooms?"

"Sometimes. Not usually from private rooms though, just do it all there."

"OK, well if anyone stops us we just want a little private time before heading back, OK?"

"If that's what you want."

"You need to snap out of it, OK?"

"If you say so."

They managed to get to their rooms without anyone stopping them and Grant took two as Kaskey took the other two.

"OK, this is the deal. I've got clothes here for you. You're both going to get changed and then we're going out down stairs."

"Oh, we're not allowed on the gambling floors," the other girl, also a Human, said.

"OK," Grant said a little crossly. "I need you to listen. We're here to get you out, I was hired by Veronica's parents, OK?"

Light began to come into Veronica's eyes. The light of new hope.

"Mummy? Daddy?" she asked.

"Yes. But we're not going to do this if you don't play along. You need to be my escorts, maybe my daughters. You need to walk with me as if you are supposed to be on the gambling floors, act like a guest. Walk like you belong, can you do that?"

"Yes," Veronica said.

"I think," the other girl said.

"Don't think, do. Here are your clothes and some jewellery. Get changed, quickly."

They went into the bathroom and came out shortly looking transformed.

"Brilliant, you both look fantastic," he smiled and they both beamed back at him. "Remember, act like a guest, like you belong. We're just going to head to the exit. Calmly."

The walked out of the room and he got them to put an arm each through his own and they strolled down the corridor. He got them talking about what they would do when they got home, things they liked about it; fun memories that got them relaxed and laughing. Just like people having a good time at the casino.

They avoided the lifts due to cameras and they only went as far as the gambling floors anyway. The Casino wanted you to have to walk past all the tables. They passed two security officers as they walked out onto the Cannabact floor and he felt both girls tense, but they were not stopped.

"Keep going," he whispered.

On reaching ground level (which was nowhere near the actual ground) they had to go into the bar and order drinks. The girls were edgy now, so close to freedom, yet so far away, but they had to wait for Kaskey and Loveritto to come down with the other two girls. The wait seemed like forever before Grant spotted Loveritto and then they were moving again. The van couldn't pull up outside, it would look weird and so as they hit the fresh air they continued to walk towards the road in a strung out group. This was the hardest part on Grant, it was unusual and anyone could stop them. They really were so close and that was usually when it all went wrong.

But it didn't.

Gulch pulled up just as they arrived and they all bundled into the van as fast as they could and hoped no one of interest was watching. It was too late now if they were.

"Go, go, go," Kaskey ordered as he clambered into the front seat.

"You know where you're going?" Grant called.

"I do," Gulch said.

"And then to the ship, we might need an evac."

"Wilco," Gulch said as he sped along the road.

***

Regrette and Tsyrker meanwhile moved out into the restricted area.

"You go that alarm sorted?" Regrette asked.

"Yes, I've isolated it, when you attach this looper device you spoke of it shouldn't go off," Kov said. He'd taken over from Gulch while he was playing getaway driver.

"Never get 'should' with Gulch," Regrette said with a smirk.

"I'm doing my best."

"Ignore him, he's being a crunghole," Tsyrker said.

"Such language is just a reminder you used to be in the Navy," Regrette tsked.

"You're good with the cameras?" she asked Kov.

"To an extent, yes, but I can't see how to keep them down long enough for a large group without raising suspicion."

"You just leave that to us," Regrette smiled to himself.

They walked to the stairs and headed up.

"Down," Tsyrker whispered.

"We have time, don't worry."

She followed him up.

"What's your room number?" he asked and she told him.

"Kov, I want two girls to room 481."

There was silence for half a minute.

"OK, should be in the system by the time you arrive."

"And two more for Grant's private room."

They arrived on the floor where the girls were kept.

"What've you got?" Regrette asked cheerily.

"These two," a big Oncolutian said dragging two girls along with him. "Room 481."

"What about for a Mr. Charles? Private function," Tsyrker said.

"What you be wearing?" the Oncolutian asked looking at her fancy dress.

"Special favour to Mr. Charles, gets me a bigger tip," she explained curtly.

"Bet it does," the Oncolutian laughed and punched Regrette on the shoulder. It was all he could do not to be knocked over.

"Right," he laughed back. "Bet it does."

"Here, take these two, system says he likes Humans."

They grabbed their girls and made for the exit. They heard the Oncolutian repeat his quip, laugh and then call over to his buddy to recount the hilarity.

They took them down to Grant's private room.

"Wait here for Grant," Regrette said.

"What are you going to do?" Tsyrker asked.

"Make sure they don't see us on the cameras," he raised an eyebrow at her and then left.

She grabbed the door before it closed and kept a foot in it.

***

Regrette entered the security office and looked around. The wall to his right was full of banks of computers, holding the memories from the tapes. In the centre were two consoles that held four people each and more computer terminals on the left wall. The front wall held four huge screens that held views of the gaming floors. Any of the officers working there could move images from their computer up to there if needed.

Regrette walked along the wall of memory banks as he carried with him a small EM device whose magnet would wipe all that was held there.

"What are you doing?" someone shouted at him and he spun around.

"Issues," he said loudly. "We've got issues."

"You're telling me."

"Ahh, a comedian," he clasped his hands together. "But this is no laughing matter. Our computer keeps glitching I've been sent to check if you're having any issues."

"Not since earlier."

"Earlier?"

"Electrical fault was all," another said.

"Well we're still getting it," Regrette harrumphed. "I need to use a terminal."

"One of those over there," an officer said.

"I know what I'm doing, that's why they sent me."

"Alright, alright, just bog off."

The officers all turned back to their work. As he passed Regrette could see an image from the room Rainsford and the girls were currently in. It showed that it was empty and even Regrette couldn't catch the glitch where the recording restarted. That Gulch, not much of a runner, but good at what he did.

He walked over to the terminals and before he got there he heard a 'hey' and turned back around. He knew a camera had flickered off.

"I thought this was fixed," someone shouted crossly.

"Calm down, it happens, we're still good."

He sat down at a terminal and thankfully didn't have to log in to it for his little device to work, he just plugged it in and the virus downloaded. This would give Kov some control over the computer system. He pulled it out, slipped a small explosive behind the monitor and got up.

"Alright, I'm done, can't find an issue."

"Stupid piece of junk," someone else cursed. "I told 'em we needed new gear."

Regrette smiled on the inside knowing that Kov was already at work. He walked over and looked at a monitor, while he slipped another little device under the desk.

"Mssh, I've got better computers than these at home."

"I know, right?" the officer said as his cursor jumped about and then came to rest.

"Cosmic storms?" Regrette said.

"Shouldn't be an issue," another said as she came over. "Now get out of here."

"I'm gone. I'm gone."

He managed to attach another bomb to a router as he left.

"Where we at Tsyrker?"

"At the door, looper in place. Grant?"

"Here we are, you guys ready?"

"Let the fireworks begin," Regrette threw his arms up theatrically.

***

Tsyrker had the back door open and Kov continued what Gulch had been doing, messing with the cycling of the cameras so that one didn't come up in the security office. If it was specifically chosen he would have to snow it over until they were out of sight. It was a lot easier now that they were in a group together, though it meant it took them longer to pass each camera and he didn't have the kit that Gulch had in the van.

Said van was pulled up in the alleyway and Kaskey and Grant jumped out and guided the girls in. Gulch then sped off to the space port as the others re-entered the casino. Kaskey and Tysker went to the private rooms to find more slave entertaining while Tandish pulle dup the bus they'd purloined. Loveritto jumped out and met Kaskey who already had two men and a woman. He showed them into the bus as Kaskey disappeared and then went up to meet Grant to guide people out. Grant had already headed up the stairs to meet with Regrette.

"Here we go," Regrette said and pushed a button.

The explosive he'd planted in the money counting room went off, only a small explosion meant to emulate an electrical fault, but it was enough to start a small fire. This of course sent the security office into a panic with shouts of 'save the money'. It wouldn't matter too much of course, Regrette had already wandered around with his EM device switched on, wiping the computer's memory of the transactions.

As the security office went into overdrive, Kov messed with the cameras and glitched the computers and communications before Regrette detonated the explosives in there and everyone got soaked by the sprinkler system. Though why they always put sprinkler systems in with computers is anyone's guess.

Grant caught up to Regrette who led him up to the captives. They both pulled their guns; along with Tsyrker they were the only ones armed as they had fancy guns that all but a few machines could detect. And eyes, eyes could see them.

There were people running up and down the stairs so they holstered their guns and moved swiftly. No one took any notice of them as they all tried to find the fault, fix it and put the fires out. They pulled their guns once again when they entered the floor with the captives and found that they were under close watch. The slaves wouldn't know it, but with the cameras down anyone could escape.

"Hello, all," Grant shouted, but only the employees looked at them. "You seem to have a number of slaves here."

"Very naughty," Regrette agreed. "We'll be taking them away now."

Two security guards came forwards, but stopped when they both pointed their guns at them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you wish to escape this is the time, do please come with us," Grant shouted.

The two guards eyed the guns, their hands twitching near their own.

"Go on, try it," Regrette challenged.

Loveritto entered at that point and walked past Grant and Regrette. He looked at the two guards and in one swift motion bashed their heads together and knocked them out. He waded into the people, any guard that tried to stop him was thrown out of the way.

"Come on, come on, up and out, this here is a rescue," he shouted.

The slaves were terrified by him and began to run around him towards Grant and Regrette, stopping when they saw the guns.

"It's OK, we're here to get you out," Grant assured loudly, but you couldn't blame them for a lack of trust.

"Let's go, people. Come on, freedom awaits," Regrette shouted.

"You can't," one man said. "It's impossible."

"Nothing's impossible with a little pizzazz, come on," Regrette urged.

"Really?" the man asked.

"You want to stay?" Grant asked back.

"No, sir."

"Then let's go," Grant urged.

"Come on, follow them," the man shouted and that seemed to get them going.

Grant took the lead with Loveritto in the middle and Regrette at the back. There were no longer people rushing up and down the stairs, the explosives had been small, made to look like whatever they were attached to had caught fire and the fire was no doubt out in the counting room. They would now be trying to get the computers and cameras up and running. This meant that, despite their large group they got down to the door without an issue.

From there Loveritto started ushering them to the bus as Tsyrker and Kaskey joined them with five more girls and two guys. Grant and Regrette covered the door and then Regrette grabbed the looper and pulled the door shut.

It would be another hour before anyone found anything that suggested foul play.
CHAPTER 23

Grant sat in the bridge of The Albatross with his feet on the console. It had been a busy twenty-four hours and he was exhausted; happy, but exhausted. He knew Gulch wouldn't approve of his feet placement, but he didn't care.

Tsyrker had been in touch with her people and they had agreed to take all the captives and get them home; after they had been interviewed. Grant, Tsyrker and Kaskey had also talked with them, stressing the importance of never mentioning them, not talking too much about what they had seen and been through, especially with anyone who wasn't close. No one was going to come after them unless they thought they were trouble or could use them to get to those that set them free. Everyone seemed just fine with putting the whole thing behind them and getting back to their families and their lives. They were grateful for the second chance. Grant felt sorry that they wouldn't get that chance for another few hours as Tsyrker's co-workers (if you could call them that, even Grant wasn't entirely sure who she worked for or with) would grill them mercilessly for information that could help them bring down those at the top.

By now, he hoped, they would be on their ways home and the truth of it would finally be real to them, though not entirely until they were in the embrace of their families.

"You're looking pretty pleased with yourself," Gulch said as he took his chair. He narrowed his eyes at Grant's feet, but said nothing.

"We did what we were hired to do and all got out alright. Good job all round."

"More than we were hired for."

"Yes. And I'm glad we did," Grant admitted and took his feet down. "You did good, Gulch, as ever."

"And the others?"

"Yeah," Grant nodded to himself. "They stepped up, didn't they?"

"They did. Useful people to know," Gulch smiled to himself.

"They are," Grant mused.

The last thing they had done was to drop Tandish, Loveritto and Kov back in Vexupulla.

***

"Now what?" Tandish had asked.

"Now you go back to your lives," Grant had replied.

"Just like that?"

"You got yourselves involved here."

"He's right, Tandish," Loveritto said.

"But couldn't we..."

"No," Grant shook his head. "But you did good, all three of you. We couldn't have pulled that off without you. You all should be proud of what you did."

"I am," Kov smiled. "I have to say, I had fun."

Loveritto nodded.

"I felt like I made a difference for once."

"Exactly," Tandish said with agitation. "How can you expect us to go back to watching screens?"

"As I already told you I don't do this often, mostly Gulch and I just find missing stuff. It's no more thrilling than your job."

"And Kaskey? You're hiring him," she pouted.

"And that's none of your business," he said sternly.

"It's OK, Grant. Thank you," Loveritto said.

"No, thank you. You really think I'm just going to walk away? I said we mostly just find stuff. I've got your number and I'll use it."

He looked at Tandish.

"You good?"

"Yes," she said and then hugged Grant. "We'll be here if you need us."

He shook hands with Loveritto and with Kov's little mechanical arm.

"She speaks for all of us. You need a crew, we'll be there," Loveritto said.

"I'm counting on it," Grant smiled.

***

They'd left Tsyrker with the captives to help sort out their trips home and Regrette had left not long after.

"Where'd Regrette go?" Kaskey asked entering the bridge.

"Who knows?" Grant asked not looking round.

"You don't know where he lives?"

"Best not to," Gulch commented.

"I've been thinking about home," Kaskey said and Grant turned in his chair. "I'm not leaving."

"Good."

"But if I'm going to live on this ship I'm gonna need some stuff."

Grant considered it.

"Good point. Though, you know we don't live on the ship? I mean not always."

"Still need more than one pair of pants, man."

"We'll take you home," Gulch agreed.

"Man needs pants," Kaskey said to himself as he took a seat behind and slightly to one side of Grant's chair. "Big ship for two people."

"That's why we hired you, stop us rattling around in here," Grant said.

"As you've seen," Gulch said more seriously, "we tend to pick up other team members."

"With nice ships. What was that thing Regrette was flying?"

"We think he built it himself," Grant said turning back to the console and punching in coordinates.

"He's full of surprises, isn't he?" Kaskey asked.

"You don't know the half of it," Gulch said.

"And neither do we," Grant added.

"And Rainsford? What ship was that?"

"Some UTN top secret doodah," Grant shrugged.

"She won't let him in it," Gulch grinned.

"What does she do?" Kaskey asked.

They both shrugged in reply.

"Seriously?"

"We just find stuff," Grant said.

"You keep saying that, but I ain't seen the evidence yet."

They got in line at the star-gate.

***

"Nice place," Grant said standing in Kaskey's little flat.

"Don't judge me, man."

"But you have heard the theory of cleaning, right?" Grant asked inspecting the dirt on his finger.

"I fired the maid," Kaskey said rummaging through his small bedroom.

"I can see why. You want tea?"

Kaskey looked up at him.

"Yeah, why not? Where's Gulch?"

"Booking us into a hotel."

"OK. Wait, we're staying here?"

"Seems like a good place to lay low for a few days. It's that or sitting in The Albatross in deep space," Grant said walking to the kitchenette.

"Then why'd you come with me?"

"Wanted to see where you lived," he called back as he filled a kettle.

"It's not like I have a permanent address, you know?"

"Here, have some tea," Grant said handing him a cup and taking a seat.

"So what's next?" Kaskey asked also sitting.

"I'd like to say we wait for our next case, but..."

"But you've got a bead on this Desard Family and you don't want to let it go."

"Right," Grant frowned.

"So we go back to Gothra?"

"Who can give us Cobroy," Grant nodded.

***

The got a call from Gulch that he had booked a hotel and Kaskey suggested a restaurant for them to meet at. The streets here were under the skyway and the streets were dirty, litter-strewn and poorly lit. Everywhere Grant looked were signs of decay and despair, a far cry from the casinos of Haffir.

They met in a scruffy little place with plastic chairs and tables, but Kaskey insisted the food was excellent. Which it was and afterwards they sat with a bottle of Pargkat beer each.

"Well this really isn't what we usually do," Gulch said.

"Just find stuff, yeah, I got that," Kaskey said.

"He's a fast learner," Grant said.

"Be serious for a moment," Gulch scolded.

"You up to it?" Grant asked him.

"As far as I'm aware, I can't say I've ever done anything like this," Gulch replied.

"Me neither, Kas?"

"Nope."

"There we go then," Grant drained the last of his beer and put up a hand to get another three.

"You must have done stuff like this," Kaskey said.

"Like this? Yeah. This? No."

A waitress put the beers down and cleared their plates.

"Thank you," Kaskey smiled at her. "So what is the closest thing you've done to this?"

"Probably the Blue Hand Gang. Big operation, long stake out. Watched their every move, had people on the inside. Dangerous stuff. They were doing a deal, buying weapons. The whole thing was a mess from the start. We didn't know how or with what they were paying or who they were dealing with. Never did find out what they exchanged for the weapons, it wasn't space pounds, but I bet it was worth a lot of them. Unfortunately we found out too late that they were buying from the FTR. The Blue Hand Gang was big, but the FTR were out of our league. That was Naval stuff," Grant went silent.

"What happened?" Kaskey asked.

"Well, I met Rainsford."

"But with the FTR?"

"As far as I'm aware I'm still on their hitlist."

"Which is how he met Stephen," Gulch said.

"You don't hear so much from the FTR these days."

"Makes sense if you think about what he's just told you," Gulch said.

"Come on, let's stop taking up a table," Grant said and stood.

Kaskey led them to a bar down the street, still thinking about Grant and the FTR. Freedom Through Rebellion, a terrorist organisation that arose from the ashes of the Laikan War. People who agreed with the Laikans that the UTN held too much power. As he'd said, you didn't hear much from them these days though he had heard rumours that they were building strength again. It didn't seem likely though as the Laikans seemed happy with what they had. They pretty much owned the mining business, which was highly lucrative, and were now starting to rejoin UTN society as the suspicion of them waned. People were willing to forgive and forget as each new generation came through.

Had Grant really been the one to engineer the FTR's downfall? Along with Tsyrker? Now that he'd seen them in action he thought it was entirely possible. Had Gulch been with them then? He knew Grant wouldn't talk further on it, but Gulch might.

"Gothra is going to be livid," Gulch said once they were seated with drinks.

"Pretty much, but what's she going to do?" Grant asked. "Tell the police her slaves were stolen?"

"What about these Desards?" Kaskey asked.

"Gothra won't want them to know. Makes her look weak," Grant said.

"Who did these slaves belong to though?" Gulch asked. "From what we know it seems the Desards are using Gothra's places to expand. If they paid for them..."

"Gothra's in real trouble," Kaskey finished. "And we know the guys that kidnapped them work for Cobroy."

"Who works for the Desards," Grant said.

"We should go," Kaskey said urgently.

"And walk into the shabbus-storm? Might as well ring them up and tell 'em what we did," Grant said.

"You have their number?" Kaskey asked and Grant gave him a 'ha-ha' smile.

"Seriously though, Kaskey, we need a low profile. If Gothra goes then we find a new avenue," Gulch explained.

"Or drop it. We're not being hired to do this, remember?" Grant said.

"I'd suggest we give our info over to the InterG, but I get the feeling you don't think so highly of them," Kaskey said.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Grant ironicalised.

"Well, I've been thinking," Kaskey said. "I want to do it."

"Really?" Gulch asked a little surprised.

"What?"

"Well not long ago you were trying to decide whether to join us."

"Right. But I've been thinking. How do you walk away from it? I mean, those people we saved, how many more are out there?

"I had three choices: die, join one of the gangs or hustle to survive and I sure would've liked someone to come save me at that moment, y'know?"

Grant nodded in silence.

"We need to hear about the casino," Gulch said. "Find out if anything is happening. Find out what, if anything, has happened to Gothra."

"Agreed. We also need to know more about Maggie Desard; from all accounts she's first point of contact," Grant said.

"What about Regrette and Tsyrker?" Kaskey asked.

"They won't be giving this up, don't you worry."

To be continued... (HERE)
If you enjoyed this free book, perhaps you would consider payment in the form of a rating or review and why not check out the following extracts by the same author:

The ADVENTURES IN SPACE series

The TSAR Trilogy

Book 1

The Trimedian

A NOT SO QUIET SATURDAY (extract)

"Jase? Where you been? I've been trying to call you," It was Jason's best friend Milk. Though he had no idea why he was called this and neither, seemingly, did Milk.

"Yes, that's why I've had my phone off."

"Well it's not off now."

"No, I can see that. I'm trying to have a peaceful Saturday."

"Ahhh," came Milk's voice down the line, it was one of those 'ahhh's that says I'm about to ruin whatever it was that you were doing before I came along. "Well, we need to meet up and chat, well I say chat, more like incredibly long, serious conversation that is best taken place in a pub over a number of beers, the effect of which will help you to believe it was all a dream the next day until I turn up and say it again."

"I've got a free Saturday," said Jason frowning.

"Great, I'll come over now."

"No, I mean I have a free Saturday and I'm enjoying it that way."

"Ahh, valkswagon. A free Saturday is hard to come by in this day and age."

Milk was vexed, he had seriously life changing news for Jase, news that could not wait; but at the same time you don't want to be the person to spoil a free Saturday.

"Weeeeelllll, why don't we just go to the pub for a pint or two? That's still regular fare for a free Saturday, is it not?"

"I guess..." said Jason feeling lured.

"Brilliant, see you at the 'Horse's Arse' in thirty minutes," and he hung up the phone.

Jason turned his phone off and got back to his sandwich. His phone promptly switched itself back on to pass on the information it had just heard, little did it know that this was the beginnings of the best piece of gossip in history, gossip that would make the phone famous across the globe, or at least as famous as phones can be.

As he ate, Jason thought about his friend, Milk. He had known him five years, which equated to his whole life as Jason had come out of a coma five years ago with no memory about anything before. The only thing or person he vaguely recognised was Milk who filled him in with everything and helped him get back to life.

Allegedly Jason had been in a car crash, though he had no knowledge of how to drive when he woke up. The doctors were quite frankly astounded that he could remember absolutely nothing and more astounded that despite this he made a full recovery. And even more astounded that said full recovery took him a mere ten minutes after he awoke. Jason Wellgood, they would say, was a strange case. Just how strange a case the man himself was about to find out over a pint of local bitter.

***

"Well," said Milk once they were seated with a pint each, "where to begin? Hmm, I think I'll begin with a drink."

He began tipping the booze down his neck and Jason took the chance to peruse his friend. Milk was a quite frankly huge Indian guy who had a penchant for wearing a turban merely for the look. 'Makes me feel like a real Indian' he was want to say. Milk must have been seven foot if not a bit more and was built like a brick outhouse for want of a more polite turn of phrase. He also had an incredibly posh voice when they first met, though that had slowly included more London mockney as the years went by. He was dressed in a silver tracksuit that was beyond hideous, but how do you go about telling a seven foot Indian he looks like a nonce? Jason, himself, was wearing the classic American combination of white T shirt and jeans along with his standard faded red leather jacket.

He took a deep drink of his own beer, which was logical, and asked, "So?"

"Right, yes, well. More beer?"

"No."

"No, right, well, so, er... the accident, then, five years ago."

Jason suddenly had a deep sense of unease, he also had a shallow sense of unease, but no one ever seems to care about them, do they? Did Milk know something that he wasn't telling him?

"Do you know something you're not telling me?"

"In a word, yes. That whole accident thing was a bit of a lie."

Jason put his pint down a little too hard. "A bit of a lie? What the hell does that mean?"

"Well, basically, it never actually happened. We wiped your memory."

"You... you what?"

"Wiped your memory."

Jason sat in bewilderment. He'd never been there before and though it seemed an interesting place in a Jackson Pollock sort of way, it was not a place he wanted to stay in for more than a few minutes. Much like student poetry recitals.

"Wait a minute. We? You said 'we' wiped my memory; who's we?"

"Well, I think we ought to come back to that later. There are more, er, puzzling things for you to discover first. Go and get us a pint each whilst I collect my thoughts."

Jason could have argued, but there didn't really seem any point, and he could do with more booze. Milk sat there staring at the back of his huge hands, he slowly turned them over and let his eyes follow the lines of his palms, more like crevasses than lines really. He sighed; he would miss Earth and this thought surprised him, he was disappointed to come here five years ago, hidden away from the rest of the Universe, but he really didn't have much choice if he was honest with himself and it was a cushy gig. That was what he couldn't work out, and still hadn't, why those in charge had let him come, done something so, well, nice. It was out of character.

Still he'd grown to like the planet; it was famous for a number of reasons, despite its backwardness. For one, Earth seemed to have a regenerative effect on those who did not live there and so had many famous (and hidden from Earthens) spas. Just a week on Earth could have you looking and feeling a year younger.

Secondly, the thing with Earthens was that their backwardness meant they concentrated on things no one else did. Like perfecting a good pint, inventing the guitar, jokes, TV. No one else in the Universe bothered too much with TV because if they wanted to escape, wanted adventure, they just went out and found it rather than get it vicariously through a box. On the other hand, you'd never find Jimi Hendrix on any other planet as no one would spend that much concentration on a musical instrument. He was glad Earth was as it was for this reason; the Universe without Jimi wasn't really a universe at all.

Jason plonked himself down with two pints and a packet of pork scratchings.

"So where were we? Ahh, yes, you were drivelling on about wiping my memory. I'd think you were joking, but you don't really get jokes do you?"

Milk was aggrieved. "I think I've gotten a lot better at understanding them over the last five years, I even made that girl laugh last week at the Jamestown Club!"

"Well, I'll give you that; it was pretty funny, though I can't actually remember what you said."

Milk sighed, no he couldn't either, damn his penchant for vodka jellies. He just remembered the warm surge of pride as they all laughed and now he was glad he had got one good one in before they left.

"Anyway, we're getting away from ourselves."

"I'd like to be getting away from you."

"Not going to happen anytime soon. Listen your name isn't really Jason Wellgood, you're not really a writer, and you don't even really come from Earth."

"Excuse me?" Jason didn't really believe his ears, his friend had always been a bit odd, but it seemed he had finally snapped.

"Your name isn't really Jason Wellgood, you're not really a writer, and you don't even really come from Earth."

Best to take this calmly, don't freak out, help your friend, listen to his delusions and then ever so gently suggest some help.

"So what is my name?" this was an ever so wrong moment to take a sip of his pint.

"Chase Darkstaar."

Jason splat his pint across the table, gagged and coughed at the same time, belched and then laughed. "Chase Darkstaar? That's ridiculous!"

"Yeah, I know," said Milk somewhat gloomily.

"You're serious aren't you?" Jason frowned.

As previously mentioned Milk wasn't the greatest punster and this kind of trickery would be beyond him even if he had gone mad. Jason didn't know why, but something in his friend's face convinced him that Milk was telling the truth. I guess that is what friendship is, isn't it? Being willing to trust your friend on a look; believing the most farfetched truths.

"Your name is Chase Darkstaar and you are an intergalactic hitman. Basically you hid something very important and then came to Earth and had your memory wiped so that even if someone found you, you couldn't tell them where it was."

"Er... why?"

"That I have never been able to work out."

"Right and so a/ where do you come into all this, b/ why are you telling me now and c/ what did I hide?"

Despite the obvious lunacy Jason kind of wanted it to be true so that he would not lose his friend to an asylum and so that his life might be somewhat more exciting.

"Well, c/ I don't know; a/ I'm your friend and assistant in all things, when you chose this job I had to come and make sure everything was OK. Make sure you settled into Earth life etc. and b/ I'm telling you this now because there is an intergalactic WAR brewing and it is very possible that people will come looking for you to get whatever it is that you hid."

"Right. Sooo..." He took a long gulp of beer. "What's the plan?"

"Well, I have to prove all this to you I suppose."

"Good place to start."

"Then we need to try and get your memory back so that you can find whatever you hid and divert the WAR."

"Right. So how come nobody on Earth knows about said intergalactic shenanigans?"

"It's a long story best told in space, but you will quickly discover that Earth is a very backward planet, heck Earthens still war against themselves. Idiots."

"But we are Earthlings."

"Well yes and no. We are human, our ancestry is on Earth, but neither of us were born there. Again I will fill you in in space."

"In space?"

"In space." Milk got up and Jason followed suit.

"Tell me one thing."

"OK"

"You say I was a hitman?"

"That's right, the best."

"Was I a nice guy?"

Milk blushed and looked at his canoe-esque feet. "Erm, no not really."

"Oh."

The Book of Five Worlds

Book I

The Foreshadow of Balance

CHAPTER I

It was a horrible day, not because it was cold, but because Brandon had taken his money again. He still had his secret money so that was OK, but Brandon hadn't left it there. He had been teased through English for answering too many questions and then they had ruined his science experiment and he had been sent out by the teacher. By the time he came home he was miserable and went straight out into the garden. His Dad had some big talk coming up and was still busy in his study and that suited Dylan just fine. The evening was cold; his Dad had taught him that heat goes up from the ground and gets trapped by clouds keeping it warm when the Sun goes down. But there were no clouds this evening and it was still light outside though not for much longer.

He was playing with his plastic knights plus an evil wizard and a big stuffed toy dragon. He had gone through the portal in the shed and the red dragon was a lot bigger than him and his fellow knight and there was no way they were going to beat it unless they could convince the evil wizard to help.

He looked again at the shed; he hated school and studying and those stupid bullies. They thought he was stupid, but he wasn't, he was smart and they didn't like him for that. He wished he really could go through a portal; he wished he could find the magic on Earth and use it to go away. Take him and his Dad somewhere, bring his Mum back.

But she couldn't come back, not even with magic. He didn't really understand it, but his Dad said she had gone to a better place. If he could learn magic, maybe he could take him and his Dad to that better place to be with Mum.

And then the shed door exploded out and a great big grey pig ran out into the garden squealing, steam coming out of its nose, its snout, in great clouds and then it stopped suddenly. It looked left and then right and then straight at Dylan. He wanted to scream, but nothing would come out and then a huge man ran out of the shed.

He wore thick fur instead of a coat and Dylan could only think that he looked dirty. The man stopped just like the pig and looked around. He looked at Dylan and moved towards him and then stopped and looked at the pig which was looking between them. They both looked surprised.

And then Dylan screamed for his Dad.

The pig turned in a circle looking for somewhere to run, and the man moved again toward Dylan, who could now see he had long thick hair and a beard to match with some kind of dirty green trousers on and a metal shirt under the big fur coat thing. And on his back a big two bladed battle axe.

"Dad! Help!"

And then Dylan's Dad ran into the garden with a cricket bat in his hand and stopped as suddenly as the pig and the man had.

"Who are you?" Dad demanded.

"How do we go?" the man asked back in a deep voice.

"Get out of my garden now."

"Your garden?"

"Get out now or I'll use this," he held up the bat, but the man unslung the axe.

"And then I would have to use this. But I don't want to," at the sight of the axe the pig finally made up its mind and ran back to the shed and disappeared inside.

"Now I've lost my dinner," the man said and seemed sad.

"Sorry," said Dylan.

"It wasn't your fault, I should have grabbed it. But where am I?"

"I'm going to call the police now," Dylan's Dad said.

"The what?"

"What's wrong?" Dylan asked the man.

"Dylan, come here," his Dad said. "This man has been drinking."

Dylan understood this. When you drink something called booze you got funny in the head and did stupid things. Sometimes Dad drank booze and got sad about Mum and cried. He didn't like that.

"I haven't had a drop all day," the big man argued. "I wish I had some now for this is greatly vexing."

"Dad has some booze."

"Dylan, stop talking and come here," and Dylan walked past the man, as far away as he could, and Dad relaxed a little when he was next to him. "OK, put the axe away, man."

"Once you put down your... what is this strange weapon you carry?"

"It's a cricket bat, it's for a game," Dylan told him because the man didn't seem dangerous, just confused.

And then the man threw back his head and laughed.

"You threaten me with a bat from a game?" and he laughed again and Dad lowered the bat.

"Where did you come from?" he asked.

"From the shed," Dylan answered.

"The shed?" the man asked. "No, I come from the forest town of Capel in Collyshire."

"Right," Dylan's Dad said.

"And where am I now? Is this Shed?"

"No, that's the shed," Dylan said and pointed. The man looked at it and then slowly looked back at them.

"What world am I on?" he asked slowly.

"That's enough," Dad started.

"What world am I on?" the man asked more angrily.

"Earth," Dylan said and the man seemed to go white through the dirt and suntan.

"No."

"Yes."

"The Fifth World."

"What did you say?" Dad asked.

"The Fifth World."

"You better come inside."

"What's going on Dad?"

"What's your name?" he asked the man, but he didn't answer, just looked around. "What's your name?"

"What? Lucas."

"You better come inside, Lucas, we need that booze."

{+}

They sat in the study, it wasn't very big and it was stuffed with books, a desk and two comfy chairs. It seemed even smaller with Lucas in there. He stood and just looked around while Dad poured him a glass of something which he took in his big hands. Everything seemed small compared to Lucas, Dylan thought.

"Sit down, Lucas, let me find something," Dad said and started looking through his books. Lucas took off his axe and squeezed into a chair and Dylan stood next to him.

"Why do you need such a big axe?"

He looked down at Dylan. "I don't if I think about it, I just like it."

"Do you kill people?"

"Sometimes, if needs must."

"Right, here it is," Dylan's Dad said holding a big old book.

"What is this?"

"It's a collection; most people thought the writer was an idiot. He put together all the ancient references to the Five Worlds. Look," he flipped open a few pages and showed them to Lucas while Dylan craned to see.

"This can't be true," Lucas shook his head.

"But it is, isn't it? You come from a different world."

"No, this is some magic cast upon me," Lucas shouted and stood up. Dylan staggered backwards and trod on the remote control switching the TV on to the news.

"AARRRGGGHH!" Lucas cried staring at the box. "What by thunder is that?"

"It's a television," Dylan said.

"How do the people get inside?" he was scared.

"They're not inside, silly, they are somewhere else, we can just see them."

"Like a Seer's Orb?"

"No," Dad said, "it runs on electricity, look," he bent down and picked up the remote and showed Lucas how the channels changed.

"Quickly, man, what is your name?"

"Connor James and this is my son Dylan."

"Connor James, explain quickly what this electrickery is."

"Well, you burn coal to make it and then it powers just about everything we use."

Lucas stood and thought about it.

"Coal comes from the ground?"

"Yes, it's animals that died millions of years ago."

"I must go," Lucas said.

"No, stay," said Dylan.

"I will be back, but this is all too much for me. I am not a clever man."

They followed him through the house as he looked at everything, touching things here and there until they were back at the shed. And then he stopped.

"I don't know what to do. Who can I talk to?"

"I don't understand," Connor James said.

"This is too big for my understanding, yet I understand that this is important. Who will use this information for good? The wrong people would use the portal to change the Balance. What if the Chinerthian Queen finds out? But maybe we can use this to defeat her, but, but I don't know."

"Who is the Chinerthian Queen?" Dylan asked.

"I will be back, I don't know how long, but no longer than a week," Lucas said. "Farewell Connor and Dylan of The Shed," he said and then strode through the shed door and disappeared.

Dylan moved towards it, but his Dad grabbed him.

"No. We don't know what is on the other side, or whether we could get back again."

{+}

The next day at school went past as if in a dream. The bullies tried to take his lunch money, but he didn't even notice them.

"Where's my money, pussy?"

"What?" Dylan asked not really even hearing as he continued to walk around the playground.

"My money. What are you deaf?"

"Hmm, no," kept on walking.

"Hey, come back here!" they ran around in front of him, but he changed direction and kept walking and thinking about Lucas and the shed and, what was it called? The portal.

"He's talking to you," someone shouted, but they gave up chasing him as he wandered. He thought he heard someone say something about being 'crazy'.

{+}

That evening he stood in the cold back garden staring at the open shed. The doorway was pitch black even though there was enough light coming from the house to see inside. He tried to remember all the things that he should be able to see, the lawn mower, their bikes, a hose, some gardening tools. But he could see nothing. He wondered what was on the other side really. A forest he thought. Lucas had said he came from a forest town and he'd been chasing a big pig. Would the forest be bright and green or dark and scary? Was it winter there too? Lucas had been wearing big furs so he thought it must be. But what he had been thinking about all day in school was what his Dad had said about five worlds. Not just one, but five.

And now he heard his Dad come out of the house, felt him come and stand next to him and they both stood and stared at the shed.

"Can you believe it?" his Dad asked.

"Can you?" he asked and looked up at his Dad. He wasn't sure he could, but if his Dad could...

"Come inside and let me show you a few things."

They walked inside to the study and his Dad sat down at his desk and lifted Dylan onto his lap. Then he opened the big book he had shown Lucas.

"OK, so throughout all the old mythologies; you know what they are?"

"Like a story?"

"Yes, exactly. Throughout them all there are hints and thoughts and stories about the Five Worlds. From Old Norse to ancient Chinese. They were never very big because even back then people thought it was silly, right?"

"OK."

"But this guy, Dr. Fozz..."

"That's a funny name."

"Yeah, it is; anyway, he studied it for years, all the clues, travelled the world and wrote this book. You see a lot of stories and myths never got written down, but they got passed on verbally."

"Verbally?"

"Verbally means speaking. So what Dr. Fozz found was that there are five worlds all connected by portals."

"Like in our shed."

"Exactly, but as people on Earth became more interested in science, medicine and money, they stopped believing in myths and magic and the portal to Earth closed."

"Why?"

"Because something can't exist if no one believes in it. If someone was walking in the forest and they thought they saw a unicorn in the forest, just somewhere in the trees, they wouldn't believe they saw a unicorn, they would believe they saw a horse and the light or the trees made it look like it had a horn. You see?"

"I think so. But why would there be a portal in our shed?"

"I don't know. But we have to be careful; we can't go through the portal, OK?"

"OK."

"Really."

"OK, OK."

"And we have to be careful; we don't know what might come out. Remember the pig?"

"Yeah, that was scary."

"Right."

"Do you think Lucas will come back?"

"I don't know. I think so, but I didn't really understand what he was talking about before he left, I need to read more now, OK?"

"Yeah."

His Dad put him down and turned him so they were looking into each other's eyes.

"Don't go near the portal. We wait for Lucas, OK?"

"Yes, Dad," he turned to leave. "Can I at least go out and look at it?"

His Dad smiled.

"If I said no, you would sneak out anyway," he got up and found a metal poker from the fireplace that had never been used. "If you do, keep this with you in case another animal comes out. And then shout for me," he smiled and Dylan smiled back.

In the Valley of Elah

CHAPTER ONE

The door creaked open in the same way my secretary does her job, stubbornly half-hearted. It couldn't even be bothered to open all the way and the man who was trying to enter had to give it another push. I wished straightaway that it had been better at keeping closed, or that my secretary was better at telling people I was out to lunch.

"Mr. Harker," the man said holding his hat in his hands.

I held a palm out to the chair in front of my desk and he walked over and sat. I scratched my throat with the back of my fingers.

"What can I do for you, Houngan?"

"So you know who I am," the man said simply.

I did, his name was DeSalle, he was a good twenty years older than me (which tells you nothing at this point, though my secretary might tell you that only makes him thirty) and had skin so dark it had a blue tinge in the dusty electric light. His eyes were dark and the sclera, you know the white part, was more a milky yellow, like cigarette stained wallpaper that used to be fancy. He wore a cheap suit with a crumpled pork pie hat that I admired before answering.

"You're a Houngan, a Voodoo priest. It's DeSalle, isn't it?"

"It is. I'm not local so I'm impressed you know me," he nodded to himself in some form of approval.

"It's kinda my job," I shrugged. It was on the door, I mean what's the point of words if people aren't going to read them?

"It is, and that's why I'm here."

"So you can read."

"What?"

"I like your hat," I said and I did. I like hats.

"You like hats."

I said that.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

He pulled a crumpled newspaper from inside his suit.

"I get the paper," I said, but I often didn't. Have I mentioned my lazy secretary?

"Then you will have seen this," he opened the paper and showed me.

Maybe he had already heard about my secretary.

"Voodoo sacrifice."

"That's what the papers are saying," he said, but not before a tired sigh.

"And you disagree."

"I do."

"And what's it got to do with me?" I asked.

"You're a private detective specialising in the occult," he said and the sign on the door paid for itself.

"So I'm thinking you want me to show it had nothing to do with Voodoo."

"Yes," he nodded earnestly.

I shook my head for effect.

"Can't do. This is murder, this is police business."

"I don't want you to trouble them. I just want someone who knows what they are talking about to point out that this is not a Voodoo sacrifice. We don't do things like that, Mr Harker."

"I know that."

"So you already know that we are being targeted unfairly," he was getting more upset about it so I looked at the article.

"All the hallmarks of a Voodoo sacrifice," I said.

"Which you know we don't do."

"Someone in your congregation might have."

"Then you don't know my congregation."

"I know you are meddling with Satan, Houngan."

"We do good; Voodoo does good, Mr. Harker."

"You're playing with spirits, Houngan, there's only one type that would go along with another religion," I said in my best stern voice.

"I was told you would be like this," he said.

"Celebrity," I said.

"And I was told to come to you anyway because you wouldn't let innocents suffer, because you know the truth of these things," he kneaded his hat.

"Alright," I said with hands up.

He was right. Practitioners of Voodoo didn't go around sacrificing people, at least not anymore, and even a quick read through of the article made the whole thing seem suspicious. It was too much like what you thought a Voodoo sacrifice would look like. It was Voodoo in a way that anyone with a little knowledge (probably from a film) would not look any closer at.

"You think someone is trying to pin this on your temple," I said.

"Yes," he seemed relieved. "Who we are and who people think we are is very different."

"Yes, it's much worse," I frowned.

"We see things very differently," he said.

"Yes, you are wrong, dangerously so, and I am right," I said leaning back in my chair.

"So be it," he said looking down.

"No," I said forcefully. "Not so be it."

"I was told you would be like this," he said as if it was a mantra.

I tossed up between angry and resigned and went for the latter, as I so often did.

"They won't let me get in the way of a murder investigation," I said.

"Not one of us can stop nor change the media, but we can present the real facts anyway. I worry that we will be persecuted, or someone will be prosecuted just because of how the media sees us," he said.

I felt sorry for him. Voodoo was famous in the media, especially films, and none of it was positive. It was all witchcraft and Voodoo dolls and actually they had quite a positive religion. They thought they were doing good for their god, Bondye, a bastardisation of Bon Dieu. The problem being that they were deceived. Being deceived by evil spirits to keep them away from the one true God.

I looked to the print on my wall, Hopper's 'Nighthawks'. I was being asked again to help someone, asked to do His work. Oh, yes, I already knew it was His work, I could feel it. This wasn't Voodoo, this was something else that they wanted people to attribute to the movie version of Voodoo. It was a cover and the question that burned in my gut was, for what?

"Alright. I should be able to see the body, should be able to show that this wasn't Voodoo."

"Oh, thank you," he almost deflated in my chair, you know, like someone had put a pin in him. "You don't think it is Voodoo."

"Don't get ahead of yourself. It has all the hallmarks of Voodoo, the problem here is that it doesn't have any meaning behind it. I don't want to find that meaning, Houngan."

"You won't," he said standing.

"See yourself out, my secretary won't," I said.

"My card," he said putting it on my desk before leaving. He stopped at the door. "Thank you, Harker."

"Get out," I said staring at the ceiling.

He left and seconds later my secretary entered.

"You're surprisingly eager," I said to the ceiling.

"This isn't the Mash is it?"

"I don't think so."

"You think we're on, don't you?"

"What makes you say that?" I asked looking at her.

"The sad resignation on your face."

"You say that with scorn, Adelaide, but you haven't seen the things I have," I said deciding to look at the ceiling again.

She left. I played the game of trying to decide how old she was. At least ten years older than me, but she was in incredible shape and that twisted things. Much better shape than I was in now. Her face was unlined and that made me think younger, but the way she carried herself, talked to people all pointed to older. She could be twenty years older than me. I really didn't know her that well at all, knew little to nothing of her past.

I stared at the ceiling. My chair had a good recline feature, and thinking of it now, Adelaide chose it for me. Apparently she knows me better than I know her.

This wasn't the Mash, of course it wasn't, this was murder. The Mash, if you must know, is what I do most days. Nix that, what I do most days is very little. I like to stare. At things, in things, out of things, it's not much of a hobby, but a man has to have something.

When I'm not staring at things I'm investigating the paranormal. Well, I say 'paranormal' and hell, I say investigating, but as ghosts and the like don't actually exist I don't have to do much investigating. You might be surprised though at how little time I have for my hobby; spirituality and a belief in the occult has risen steadily in the last howevermanyyears despite the progress of science and technology. So I charge people to tell them that their ghost is a banging water pipe or tricks of light and/or sound.

You know of infrasound? It's sound below 20Hz, which is the limit of our hearing. Basically noises below this can cause feelings of fear and dread and some can cause hallucinations. A lot of the time my job is finding out what in the building is causing those sounds.

But then there's the other work I do, the real work. The whole paranormal stuff is just a front, a way to pay the bills. This was definitely the other stuff if it was anything at all. I really hoped it would be nothing; that I could show that it wasn't Voodoo so the police wouldn't bark up the wrong tree and then go home. Maybe stare at something for a while. But I had a feeling in my heart that told me different.

†

I'd managed to get an appointment with the detective leading the case, a Detective Garrett, and she hadn't sounded too enthused at meeting with me. It's tough to get taken seriously when you're a ghost hunter and I can appreciate that. No wonder Adelaide was so grumpy, what would her friends think of her job? Or future boyfriends?

"I don't have time for this," Detective Garret told me.

"It is prime staring time," I nodded and she gave me a quizzical glare as we entered a little office.

"What?"

I sat down without being asked.

"I just need to see the body," I said as I had on the phone.

"So you said. Not happening."

"It's not Voodoo," I said.

"That's not what I'm told."

"It kinda looks like Voodoo," I replied.

"I already know that," she frumped.

"But it isn't."

"Oh no?"

"Nope."

She sighed and stared at the corner where the ceiling met the walls.

"I have work to do," she said.

"As do I."

"Do you?" she looked at me.

"Well, outside of this, no. Not really."

"Then I'm the only one here having their time wasted."

"I'm here to save you wasted time. That and to help the Voodoo community," I said.

"Because this isn't Voodoo despite our experts saying that it is."

"Did they?"

"I just said they did."

She had a point there.

"They said it was definitely Voodoo, did they?"

She thought about it briefly.

"Not definitely, no."

"Here's my issue, the issue of my client. Why would they do it? Why would you do a Voodoo sacrifice and make it so public? There's nothing in Voodoo that says a sacrifice should be public; as long as it's done, it's done. There are plenty of places to do it and never get caught."

She thought about it and I liked her for it. Thinking is becoming overrated in society and that's a problem.

"Criminals aren't smart," she said finally.

"This isn't a criminal activity to them, it's part of their religion."

"Why would anyone else do it? Why make it public and try and frame someone else? Like you say, there're plenty of places to do it secretly."

"I'd need to look at the body, the crime scene photos, the crime scene if I could, to answer that question."

She laughed.

"You really think I'm going to let you go to the crime scene?"

"No," I shrugged. I was used to this.

She looked around the room again. There was still nothing to see so I guessed she was weighing it up. In these instances it's wise to keep your mouth shut. Says a lot about me. I had a quick stare out the window.

"I'm not trying to jump in on your investigation, my client just wants something to say to the media when the inevitable happens."

"Oh yeah?" she turned on me. "And what is that?"

I stood up, this was a standing moment. I paced for effect and to not look like I was challenging her.

"Two things bug me. One is that the media already has this and has so much detail," she grimaced about that. "The second thing is a minor detail in the form of a Star of David."

"What of it?"

"It's got nothing to do with Voodoo. People connect Voodoo with Satanism and so don't think about it."

"So it's done by amateurs, but it still begs the question why."

I didn't answer, but thought about it again. It was really the sole reason that this wasn't the Mash, wasn't just something linked to the occult. There were plenty of murders that got linked to Satanism and other such things, and no doubt Satan got a kick out of them, but they weren't for or by him. The idea that Satan wants human sacrifices is a myth, that's not what he's interested in, that's lowbrow for him.

A little off topic, but I remember a case I was asked to advise on where a Christian had been killed in a supposed satanic ritual. I pointed out that the last thing Satan would want is a Christian to be killed and go to Heaven before Satan had a chance to break their faith.

"It's a sign," I said at last. I didn't want to say it. I didn't want it to be anything more than the Mash.

"A sign?" she asked with eyebrows raised. "For who?"

"That doesn't matter to you, it really doesn't."

"If you know something you'll be obstructing justice by not telling me," she said.

I laughed. I shouldn't have, I didn't mean to, but I did. When it came to justice I often didn't, couldn't, work by the Law's definition.

"All I need is to see the body and then I've done what I've been paid for. I won't get in your way after that."

She looked at me and I looked at her, our eyes pierced each other until she looked away.

"OK. I can't see the harm, but if you're holding out..." she left the threat hanging.

I plucked it up.

"I'm not."

†

There wasn't much of the body left, but there was more than would have been if it had been a Voodoo sacrifice. You see, in Voodoo the sacrifice means something, every action and the way it is performed, means something. This body was roughly hacked up and anything to point it to Voodoo was at the crime scene rather than on the body.

This wasn't a Voodoo sacrifice, this was all about the show, there was one reason and only one reason for this sick murder and that was for it to be found, to be seen.

I sighed when we got back outside.

"So?" she asked in the cold air.

"So it's not Voodoo, there's no precision, no meaning to it. In Voodoo every cut means something, is special, part of the ritual. This was a hack job.

"And like I said, they don't do this kind of thing. At least not officially, so they don't flaunt it like this."

"So someone is trying to frame them."

"No."

"No?"

"Look, it doesn't matter. This is what is going to happen; you and your fellow officers are going to follow the Voodoo route and you're going to find a suspect. Everything is going to fit despite the person strenuously denying it all and then you are going to suddenly find a piece of evidence that ties them in. It'll be a lucky break that closes the case and it'll be forgotten."

"Except that the church..."

"Temple, it's called a Hounfour," I taught.

"The Hounfour will deny it is Voodoo thanks to you."

"And everyone wins. Except whoever you send to prison for it."

"But you have more information."

"No," I said looking at her directly for the first time. "That's it. That's everything."

I turned and walked away. She had done as I had asked and I really didn't have anything more to tell her. We were done, or so I thought. She wouldn't, couldn't believe anything else that I had in my mind; and it had nothing to do with her investigation. It was my investigation now.

I shouldn't have baited her though, shouldn't have told her how I thought it would have gone down; that was foolish because I was tired and annoyed at getting pulled in again. I was frustrated that I couldn't tell her more, frustrated that I couldn't tell anyone outside those that already knew.

Southern Hunter

PROLOGUE

It has been said that only ten percent of the Bush remains in Australia since Westerners arrived, but it still covers vast tracts of land. Enough that each year, even in this day and age, people get lost and some die. There is still Bushland that isn't crisscrossed with roads or tracks; areas that no one goes in where undiscovered flora and fauna are living and dying in the circle of life. And it is on such a part of thick Bushland in the South West of that great country that two men find themselves.

"Was this worth the boats?" the man asked sitting in a small area where the undergrowth was sparse enough to set up a little camp.

"It's just for now," his companion answered. "We're illegal, we can't expect a job in a nice office in Perth, can we?"

"No, but this? This, what do they call it?" he raised his arms to the trees.

"Bush."

"I mean we're in the middle of nowhere, no roads, no people. And you hear stuff about Australia, all the dangerous creatures."

"Snakes and spiders are more scared of us than we are of them," the other man said.

"Not when we're asleep. The Sun will set soon and then what? Kangaroos, crocodiles."

His companion laughed.

"One, kangaroos are not dangerous and two there are no crocodiles this far South."

"I still don't like having to sleep out here."

"Well it's just a few more nights. We've marked the trees and surveyed the land, tomorrow we'll start hiking to that track and get picked up. We'll be paid more money for this than we've ever been back home."

They both sat there around the small fire as the Sun sank to the tops of the trees.

"Do you miss it?"

"What?"

"Home."

"We haven't been here long enough to."

"I do," the man shrugged. "This country doesn't smell right, and it's all so, I don't know, neat and tidy?"

The other laughed again.

"It's the food, Australians eat pies and chips and drink beer. They don't cook like us, they don't live like us; you'll get used to it."

"I guess," he said and looked out into the darkening Bush.

He didn't really know what would happen. They had paid a lot of money to get here on a boat and he was glad they were one of the lucky ones, lucky not to die, lucky to land without being caught. He'd rather die than go to a detention centre.

Then they'd been moved around, from here to there, all the while disorientated by their new surroundings and finally he and his friend had been taken to a mining company.

They'd done odd jobs for awhile, they were told they would work on a mine, but couldn't fly there, so they had to wait for a chance to be driven. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of a mine you had to fly to, it would have to be in the middle of nowhere, out in what the Australians called the Outback. It would not be comfortable living, but he had to think of the money, and his family back home who would receive most of it.

But instead they'd been taken south to a small town in the hills. It was surrounded by trees, Bush as they called it, and the company wanted them to look at a certain area, mark trees for cutting down so that a road could be cleared. Survey the area where they could to work out the best place for crews to come in and clear land. They were digging a new mine here or something.

He hated it; every minute of it out in this strange Bush with its strange animals and snakes and spiders. Australia was famous for all the ways it could kill you: the animals, the reptiles, the plants, the sharks, or you could just get lost in Bush like this, it went on for ever, the same in every direction.

Was it worth it? Life was hard back home, hard to have enough, but there was television. Television that told you of all the things you could have, should have. The West taught the rest of the World one thing, that you should own more things. More things meant more happiness and where once people had been content with their traditions, now they were unhappy and poor.

Yes, he was the same; that was why he was here. He wanted a good life for his family, he wanted good schooling for his children, but that was never going to happen tending bar to tourists back home. He had to do this for them, he had to remember that. There was a reason for this and maybe, maybe he could get legal, somehow bring his family here; have a good job.

But for now he was stuck in this Bush.

"It's not so bad," his friend said.

"What isn't?"

"This. No distractions, no noise, no complaining wife or begging children, just peace and quiet. And we get paid for it," he relaxed out on his swag.

"I miss them," the man said morosely.

"What is it they say here about glasses being half empty?"

"I don't know what you're talking about; do you really not miss them?"

His friend sat up angrily.

"Why do you think I'm here? For my family, to give them a better life. Of course I miss them, but I know that because I do this they will have a better life."

"I'm sorry," the man said.

The Bush stirred behind him and he looked back sharply.

"Relax."

"What was that?"

"Who knows? We're in a forest."

"What's out there?"

"Nothing that can hurt you."

"That's not true."

"Not this again. Snakes and spiders aren't going to come here and once you're in your, what are they called?"

"Swag."

"Right. It covers you completely, nothing can get to you."

Noise came from the darkening Bush again.

"And that?"

"Wind? A kangaroo? Who knows, but it won't bother us, it's not like they have tigers here."

"No, you're right, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just worried."

"There's nothing out here."

"Not that. I mean this job is nearly over, what if they drop us?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we're illegal. We don't have any rights here."

"I don't know, I try not to think of it."

The Sun sank below the tree tops and the spaces between the trees went from bright and beautiful to dark and ominous. Those creatures that lived by the light began to scurry home as those night hunters awoke and readied themselves. Kookaburras flew and called to each other in their distinctive monkey-like laugh. One began to wind up as others joined it until the trees around the men were full of the laughter of the birds, as if mocking the men their fate.

"I'll never get used to that sound," the man said.

"I can't believe they are birds and not monkeys," the other agreed as the birds fell silent as one.

There was a crash in the Bush and the man looked that way.

"Just a tree falling."

"You've an answer for everything."

"Did you never camp back home? Forests make noises."

"I preferred the comforts of the city," the man complained.

The Bush was silent as if waiting to see what might happen next. The man turned back and began to get into his swag, a sleeping bag with a semicircular tent pole at the head so that the person could be completely enclosed. And that was what he wanted now, to be enclosed, shut off from the world and whatever might be out there in the dark.

The Bush rustled and twigs snapped. Something else cracked, a branch maybe and he was sitting up again peering around in the last of the light.

"It's big," he said and saw that his friend was also sitting up.

"Yeah. There are some big kangaroos, maybe we should make a noise to scare it off?"

"Yeah, OK," he replied, though the last thing he wanted to do was make noise out here. It was irrational, he knew, but that wasn't going to take the fear away.

His friend whooped and he cringed before shouting out himself.

They listened. There was not a noise, not the sound of something coming nor something running away.

And then the whole Bush around their little clearing shook and thrashed and he couldn't believe his eyes as a giant head, mouth open, hundreds of razor sharp teeth, burst out of the dark trees and grabbed his friend. His head disappeared into the gaping mouth and it bit into his chest. Two clawed hands appeared and grabbed his friend, tearing him in two. Blood sprayed and poured as the beast flicked its head up to swallow his friend's torso.

He shrieked, struggling up out of his swag, hands up and forward to protect him, as if that would help.

No one knows we're here, no one will ever know or care. We're illegal, was his last thought as he staggered backwards and the giant beast leapt forward and sunk its giant claws into his chest.

The Haunting of Berkeley Square

PROLOGUE \- 1840

It is a cold night in London, the fog hugs the streets and wise people stay inside enjoying warm fires and families.

Others find themselves enjoying ale and friendship in any one of the city's many pubs. It is in one of these, in the Holborn area, that Sir Robert Warboys and his two friends sit drinking.

"And do you believe it?" Jeffery Anderson asks him.

"Of course, I don't," Sir Robert replies taking a large swallow of beer. "Merely native myth."

"I know of a story closer to home," Michael Roberts tells them leaning in. "That of Berkeley Square."

"The Thing?" Anderson asks and Roberts nods.

"They say that a man, a Mr. Dupres, lived there and his younger brother had gone mad, perhaps from war, violently mad," Roberts takes a sip.

"Get on with it, man," Warboys tells him.

"Well, he took over charge of his brother and had to lock him in the utmost room. They could not but let him out so they fed him through a hole in the door. Poor chap died in there, some say from lack of eating, others say he tore himself apart over many years. Fingers off, then toes," Roberts shudders at the thought.

"It is entirely plausible," Warboys offers, "but what is the point of this yarn?"

"They say," Anderson joins, "that it has been haunted ever since, perhaps even before. Neighbours tell of strange noises as if things are being dragged along corridors or down stairs, of doors banging and the signal bells ringing though no one lives there."

"Oh, what unadulterated poppycock," snorts Warboys. "You two are young and foolish, hiding behind your mother's skirts rather than adventuring."

"Fine, you go and stay in that upper room, the haunted room, see how brave you are," Anderson challenges angrily.

"My dear boy, I am merely twenty years of age and I need not tell you the things I have seen and done. You think I believe in ghosts? I don't, but I believe in money."

"One hundred guineas," Roberts says for his pride is equally hurt.

"Then I wholeheartedly accept your preposterous harebrained challenge!" Warboys raises his flagon of ale into the air with a grin full of gusto.

They pay for their beers and stumble out into the street. The cold air hits them and Anderson realises quite how drunk he has become and wonders briefly whether this was a good idea after all.

They reach Berkeley Square as the lamps are being lit and find the house. It is tall and adjoined to those each side. The square is quite lovely and upmarket except for this house, this house has seen a much better day and is in good need of a clean and paint. Anderson shudders, not for the cold, but for the truth. Why else would no one want to buy and live in such a luxuriant square in the heart of London?

After knocking a man opens the door. He is a tall, thin man with greyish skin, but black, black hair.

"Are you the owner of this property?" Sir Robert asks. He has sobered up somewhat, but is still drunk enough to be belligerent. Even sober he is quite belligerent, but it has got him so far so young that he sees nothing to change.

"No, sir, I am but the landlord of the residence."

"And no one lives here?"

"No, sir."

"Very well then, I would like to sleep in your upper room for the night."

"That is not a good idea, sir."

"Why? Because it is haunted?" Warboys laughs.

"Because it is not a good idea," the man merely replies.

"Come, let us go, this was a foolish idea," Anderson tries.

"Hush," replies Sir Robert. "Look, my good man, there is no such thing as ghosts and this is your chance to prove it. Maybe sell it on.

"Plus I will give you a nights rent and some pounds to do the place up, it is in a dreadful state."

"Very well, sir, it is you not I that will be sleeping there," the landlord says and steps aside.

They walk into the front room which is cosy enough and the landlord wanders off.

"Very well," Roberts says. "If we are doing this then we will do it right. You will ring the service bell once if you see anything and we will come and see it as well. You will ring it twice if you need help."

"This is nonsense; do not come on the first bell as you might scare the spirit off. But I will ring it if I see something, which I will not because I will be fast asleep."

"Take this with you," the Landlord says re-entering.

"What is this? A pistol? I need not a pistol for sleep, my good man."

"There will be no staying up there tonight nor any night if you take it not."

"Very well," sighs Sir Robert and takes the pistol. "Good night, gentlemen."

With that he and the landlord take to the stairs while Jeffery Anderson and Michael Roberts take chairs.

The landlord joins them and they talk about the area, about how London is growing and the price of properties. Until forty-five minutes past the stroke of twelve when they hear the tinkling of a service bell in the kitchen.

"He sees something," Anderson jumps from his chair.

"Or he is jesting with us," Roberts replies sleepily.

"Come let us look," Anderson says and so the three walk out to the bottom of the stairs.

As they get there the service bell rings twice and then starts ringing continuously. The three men run up the stairs, (the bell falls silent) to the landing and up to the next floor. As they reach the third and top floor a gunshot rings out from the front room and they speed up, slamming the door wide open.

Sitting wedged into the corner of the room sits Sir Robert Warboys, gun in one hand, the bell pull, ripped from the ceiling, in the other. His lips are pulled back in a rictus of terror and eyes popped out so that they dangle upon his cheeks.

His friends run to him and the landlord looks across the room to see what he had fired at. There is merely a bullet lodged in the wall.

Sir Robert Warboys is quite dead.

Dead from terror.

