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    Chain of Secrets
    Chain of Secrets
    Chain of Secrets
    Ebook518 pages6 hours

    Chain of Secrets

    By Jaleta Clegg

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Dace believes Tayvis is dead, so when Lowell sends her to her homeworld to start a civil war, she doesn't care if she survives or not. But as she struggles through the tangle of deceit, betrayal, and lies of the rebellion and the crushing oppression of the government and startling revelations about her own past, Dace finds she does want to live. At least long enough to see Jasyn again. But her chances dwindle as the planet plunges into war and the Patrol abandons the sector. But her biggest enemy proves to be her own heritage.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJaleta Clegg
    Release dateApr 29, 2014
    ISBN9781311869135
    Chain of Secrets
    Author

    Jaleta Clegg

    I love telling stories ranging from epic space opera to silly horror to anything in between. I've had numerous stories published in anthologies and magazines. Find all the details of my space opera series at http://www.altairanempire.comFor the latest updates on my stories, check out my webpage at http://www.jaletac.comMy current day job involves teaching kids to play the piano. I also love piecing quilts together, crocheting tiny animals, and watching lots of bad 80s movies.

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      Book preview

      Chain of Secrets - Jaleta Clegg

      Chapter 1

      You're headed for the border? The freighter captain shook his head. No one wants to get close to the border, especially not near Tebros. My advice is to find a berth and work the Federation territories. Don't mess with the Empire at all. It's not a good place for a spacer right now.

      Tayvis pasted a smile on his face. The man was drunk, true, but he was only repeating what Tayvis had heard in every bar on the last six worlds. The Empire was crumbling at the edges and rotten at the center. The Federation grew exponentially as it drew in discontented frontier and fringe worlds. But Dace was somewhere in the Empire, too close to Lowell. Thanks for the advice. I still need to get to Tebros.

      You'd be better off heading out farther. Lots of new territories opening up. I heard about one not long ago. Trythia, I think? Big Patrol action, but they ran back across the border with their tails between their legs.

      Tayvis squelched the urge to pummel the man as he let the crowd pull him away from the bar. It wasn't the first rumor he'd heard about Trythia, told by those with no real knowledge or experience. The memories still hurt. Lowell had pulled the Patrol and run, taking Dace with him. And leaving Tayvis behind. He still wondered why.

      He stepped outside the bar into the planet's night. A sultry breeze ruffled his hair. He studied the ships on the landing field, wondering if any of them were headed closer to Tebros and the border. Maybe he should have stuck with Will and the ragged assortment of ships that constituted the Federation fleet. It would have added months to his travel time, though.

      He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shipsuit as he wove through the late-night crowds around the port bars. One of the ships had to be headed the direction he wanted to go. Time was passing and the situation in the Empire would only get worse.

      Lowell had Dace. Who knew what he'd sent her into this time.

      Chapter 2

      I shifted a bale of cargo, shoving it onto the trolley which I pushed across the landing field towards the warehouse. It was raining, a thin drizzle I remembered all too well from winters growing up in the orphanage. I was back on Tivor.

      Six weeks hadn't been near long enough to dull the pain. Tayvis, the one man I really loved, the person I knew better than any other, the anchor in my life for the last three and a half years, was gone. The pain helped in some ways. I didn't care if I died on this assignment.

      Lowell had sent me here. He said he needed me, and no one else. I was the only one who could do what needed to be done. I still wasn't sure why. What had my mother done that only I could undo?

      The wheels squeaked on the trolley squeaked as I shoved it across the cracked plascrete. The plan was for me to hide in the warehouse until everyone from the ship had left. Lowell had a contact in the capital city, he hoped. He hadn't heard from the man for several months. If his contact was there, he would let me out and hide me until I had the right papers and could start looking for the secrets my mother had left behind.

      I had three months to push things over the edge into chaos. I wondered again if Lowell really knew what he was asking me to do.

      I'd done it before, in less time, with less support. Lowell was confident I could do it here. He tried to tell me not to die doing it. I told him I wouldn't care if I did, right before I walked out of his ship to board the freighter that brought me back to Tivor.

      The trolley creaked and thumped as it crossed into the warehouse.

      Over there, the supervisor shouted. He waved off to my left.

      I ducked my head and shoved. The crate teetered. The trolley protested before it changed course. I kept pushing, easing it farther to the side and into the dusty shadows of the warehouse. I pushed the crate into the corner then slipped around to the far side.

      In the rain and the confusion of unloading the freighter, no one missed me. They'd been well paid not to notice I was gone until they were a long way away.

      I sat behind the crate, jammed into the corner between the walls. A thin trickle of water leaked through the foundation. I shifted out of the puddle. I couldn't help but remember nights locked out of the orphanage, huddling on the doorstep in the rain, wondering when they were going to let me back in.

      I wiped my nose on the back of my hand. I was cold and tired. I couldn't make myself care. I leaned against the crate and dozed off.

      It was quiet when I woke. The warehouse was dim, only a single light burned near the entrance. I climbed up the side of the crate. I'd been boxed into the corner. The whole warehouse was filled with crates. The wide double door leading back to the space port was closed. I crouched on top of the crate and looked for my options. There were two doors opposite. One was a wide door for loading cargo. The other was small, narrow, almost hidden behind the crates. If Lowell's information was right, it would open into an alley where my contact would be waiting.

      The warehouse was silent except for the dripping of water. The crews were long gone. I stood and stepped to the next crate. It wobbled underfoot. I walked across the tops to the far side of the warehouse. I only had to jump one narrow aisle.

      I reached the back of the warehouse and lowered myself off the crate. I leaned against the narrow door, listening. I heard absolutely nothing. Why did they always listen at doors in the vids? I'd never heard anything useful. I wasn't sure why I was trying to listen now. I twisted the knob. The door was locked.

      I knelt down, peering at the lock. It was too dark. I got a tiny light from my pocket and aimed it at the lock. It was old, stained with rust. It was also the type of lock I'd first learned to pick. I gripped the light between my teeth then sat down. Lowell had provided me a set of lockpicks which I'd tucked inside my right boot. I fished them out and opened the packet. I had another set strapped to the inside of my left wrist and a third set taped to my waist.

      It took me a few minutes to get the lock open. It was corroded inside. Nobody had used this door in a long time. I put the lockpicks back in my boot.

      I stripped off the shipsuit next, emptying the pockets. I wore a dark dress underneath, simple cut with high neck and long sleeves. It was made out of plain cloth, like most of the clothes on Tivor, sturdy and unnoticeable. The skirt of the dress was long enough the breeches I wore barely showed. I pulled a headscarf out of my pocket and wrapped it around my hair. With dirt on my face I'd look like most of the other women on Tivor.

      I had a variety of items Lowell insisted I take. The only one I cared about was the tiny blaster hidden in a pocket down the side of my skirt. I stuffed the shipsuit into one of the crates, out of sight, then eased the door open, wincing as it creaked. I heard a suspicious clicking noise behind me in the warehouse and turned to look. It was as shadowed and empty as before. I turned back to the sliver of night showing in the open door.

      A single bulb barely lit the garbage that littered the alley. A trickle of filthy water ran down the center. Rain dripped from clouds overhead. I saw no sign of my contact.

      I pulled the door open far enough I could squeeze out then yanked it shut behind me. The lock caught, snapping into place with a sharp clack. I breathed in the smell of the alley. I was back on Tivor.

      I picked my way past the water and the garbage. Shoes tapped on pavement in the street beyond. A soldier in uniform stopped at the mouth of the alley. He flicked a light towards me. I knocked a pile of empty boxes over as I tried to blend into the shadows. They clattered to the alley floor. I ducked behind them.

      Who's there? The guard's light flickered over the end of the alley.

      A rat squealed next to me as it darted out, crossing the filthy stream to hide under another pile of boxes. The guard made a disgusted sound and walked on, his light focused on the other side of the street.

      I breathed, trying to stop my hands from shaking. Where was my contact? Had Tivor instituted a curfew? Lowell hadn't told me anything about that. He'd made it sound simple to sneak away from the warehouse and get where I needed to go. Lowell was good at making things sound simple when they really weren't.

      I moved more cautiously, picking each step with care. I reached the mouth of the alley and risked a quick look out. The guard was gone, around a corner. The reflection of his light danced in the water puddled on the pavement.

      I shivered, wet and cold in the thin rain. The street was deserted. The contact Lowell had arranged for me wasn't here. He may have been caught. He may have not gotten the messages. He may be dead. I didn't know and the presence of an armed guard patrolling the area made it impossible for me to wait for him.

      I slipped out and headed quickly down the street. I had a few places I could try, places I'd found as a child when I'd run away from the orphanage. They'd always found me eventually and returned me. But the hiding places might still exist and I might still have contacts.

      This area of the town was warehouses, run down and neglected and completely empty of people. I worked my way around the port, street by street. I ran as quietly as I could, stopping at corners to peer down empty streets. I hid in a doorway, avoiding another guard, one not as vigilant as the first.

      A fence blocked the next street, a new addition since I'd last roamed the town. It cut across a block of mostly crumbled buildings, a high, thick weave of wire designed to keep everything bigger than a rat from crossing.

      The ground was cleared on both sides, a strip maybe ten feet wide. I couldn't see any sign of a guard tower or patrol along the fence, but it might be wired for detection or possibly electrocution. I pulled a miniature com from a hidden pocket in my skirt. It was also a very basic scanner. I aimed it at the fence.

      The top two sets of wires carried a charge. If I climbed the fence and changed that charge at all, it would trigger an alarm. I put the com away as I considered my options. I could stay here, inside the fence, which meant it was only a matter of time before someone caught me. I could try to slip out when the workers came in during the day, except I suspected they were closely monitored. I could try climbing the fence and hope I didn't trigger the alarm. Or I could keep moving and find another way across.

      I slipped back to the street. The fence was the same at the end of that street but there was more cover, the buildings almost intact. I ducked through a gaping doorway, crawling to the demolished side to crouch behind rubble as I studied the fence.

      A pair of guards marched by, their footsteps crunching in the loose gravel that lined both sides of the fence. I timed two more patrols before leaving the damaged building.

      I skirted the area, shifting through shadows between the patrols. The fence surrounded the whole area, all of the warehouses and any building that might possibly provide contact with the space port. The ships were on the other side of the buildings. The only access to them was through the warehouses.

      The sky overhead grew lighter gray. The intermittent rain soaked me through. I ignored the cold and kept moving. I had to get out.

      The ships lifted off, three within a few minutes of each other. I watched them go. From what I'd learned from Lowell's files, they might be the only ships to land for the next month. I didn't care. I'd come to Tivor to die.

      I found a vantage point on the second floor of a vacant building that overlooked the gate area. The guards came and went every few minutes. I chewed my thumbnail as I watched. Slipping through wasn't an option. Someone was always watching the gate.

      I sat back, huddling against the wall. I was defeated before I'd even begun. I'd have to find a way into the Patrol base and call Lowell, tell him I was through.

      He wouldn't let me do that. He'd send me right back. I had to find a way over or under or through that fence.

      I heard voices and the rumble of engines. I peered over the window sill. A row of ancient trucks pulled up on the other side of the gate. They were searched one by one before being allowed inside the fence. I watched as they turned different ways, heading for the warehouses where cargo had been unloaded.

      I could slip inside one of the trucks. The guards would search them just as thoroughly when they were loaded. That wasn't a solution.

      I counted twenty trucks, not nearly enough to shift the cargo delivered during the night. After the trucks came workers on foot. There were at least fifty of them, men and women walking sleepily towards the gate. The guards checked papers before letting anyone through. The workers went a different direction from the trucks. I caught snatches of conversation as they crossed under my window. They were factory workers. Some of the goods and materials never left the port.

      I could steal someone's papers and leave with the others later. And leave that someone to pay for my meddling. I couldn't do that, not to an innocent woman. I had to figure something else out.

      I slipped down an alley then joined the crowd walking past. I ducked my head and tried to look sleepy. No one seemed to notice.

      Groups split off regularly, going into a row of square buildings a few at a time. I kept walking with the others. They had to show papers to get into the buildings. I got more nervous as the crowd around me got smaller with each building we passed.

      Late again? The voice sounded exasperated. A hand grabbed my elbow. I tensed, ready to fight or run. Your shift started half an hour ago, the woman continued. She was dressed like me, dark dress and headscarf and boots.

      She pulled me towards one of the doors in a building smaller and shabbier than the others. The rest of the crowd was watching us. I couldn't run, not without creating a scene.

      You are late, she whispered as we came near the door. I expected you back by the warehouse. She squeezed my arm and flashed a half smile. I only got Lowell's message yesterday.

      He said there would be a man here, I objected, pulling back.

      The door slid open in front of us. The woman tugged me through. Her grip on my arm was strong.

      Mennis was caught two months ago. I'm his replacement.

      Then why doesn't Lowell know about you?

      Get in here, now, she ordered. You're attracting attention.

      I let her drag me into the dark room. The door behind us slid closed. She led me down one side of the echoing space. Huge machines lined the floor. A group of people stood next to one, shifting pieces of it around with great effort. None of them looked at us.

      She led me into an office section. Most of the rooms were empty of everything but dust. She took me to the far end. The room had a flimsy table and two battered chairs. A rickety desk held an assortment of equipment, most of it obsolete. The smell of stale food lingered in the air.

      This will take a moment. She bent over the equipment.

      Who are you and what is this place?

      My name's Rian. This is supposed to be a textile plant. When they can get the equipment running again. I'm the secretary. Smile.

      A light flashed in my face. I blinked and saw spots.

      And for the rest of your questions, I was sent to meet you. To make sure you had the necessary papers. It's still going to be difficult. Tivor is not a nice place.

      Tell me about it, I said with a sigh. Who sent you? Lowell doesn't know you.

      He will soon enough. The ship that brought you is taking him my first report. She fiddled with the equipment on the desk. What name do you want on your papers? Dace isn't going to fit in here. How about Disia Uvanos?

      Sounds fine. I paced, too keyed up to sit.

      What do you know about Tivor? Rian asked, busy with the equipment.

      Why are you working for Lowell?

      She shot a single glance at me. She had eyes the color of the rain clouds outside, deep gray with a just a hint of blue. Why are you?

      Because I didn't have much choice. He told me I could come here or get shot for disobeying orders.

      Lucky you. Most would have picked the firing squad.

      Who are you? I asked again.

      Rian, she answered with a bland smile. The printer next to her spit out a small card. She picked it up and handed it to me. Welcome to Tivor, Disia.

      I took the card. It was hard, thick plastic. My face stared out from one corner. The rest was filled in. I was supposedly a delivery worker.

      The truck should come by in about an hour. The driver's name is Lief. Do what he tells you. He'll make sure you get lunch. Go to the address on the card tonight when you're through. I'll meet you there.

      I shook my head. This isn't what I was told to expect.

      You think I'm working for the government? she said her voice hard as flint. If I were, you would already be dead. Or locked up in a prison cell waiting to die. Her voice softened. Trust me, Dace. Lowell sent you to help us. The Patrol finally found one of our letters. We've smuggled enough out over the last few years.

      I shook my head. Lowell hadn't said anything about letters. He hadn't said anything about an organization either.

      Mennis was one of us, she continued. He was caught last month. They tortured him for days. He died without betraying us. I found his messages. He'd been working with the Patrol, passing reports. That's where I learned about you.

      I fingered my new id suspiciously.

      She threw up her hands in exasperation. Don't believe me. See how long you last before you get caught. Tivor is not friendly to outsiders.

      I'm not an outsider.

      That's what you think.

      I looked up at her, meeting her eyes. She backed down first, looking away.

      The truck should be here soon. I'll show you where to meet Lief. I can't offer you proof. Trust us. Help us. That's why you're here, isn't it?

      What do you want help with? I was there to bring Tivor down in flames so the Patrol could take over.

      We have a rebellion. We want to overthrow the government.

      I shrugged. Sounds perfect to me.

      She smiled. I wondered how happy she'd be three months from now when the Patrol landed.

      Chapter 3

      You sent for me, sir?

      Kuran waved the man into his office, studying him as he sat in a chair, eyes watchful and face bland. He was not someone easily picked out of a crowd, medium brown hair and brown eyes, nothing to catch attention. He dressed in the plain dark clothes all workers on Tivor wore.

      Kuran tapped his finger on a photo, a grainy picture from a surveillance camera. A woman crouched near the unused door of a warehouse. She had her head turned towards the camera, her face white in the dark. We may have a problem, Tilyn. Last night, in the warehouse accepting the shipment from Barbados. They left someone behind. He slid the picture across his desk to the other man.

      She managed to pick the lock? Tilyn asked as he studied the picture. She'll be caught before she leaves the warehouse district. No one gets in or out without id.

      That's our problem. She has id. She was spotted leaving in a delivery truck an hour ago. False name and papers, but they were very well done. He leaned forward over the desk. I want to know who she is and why she's here.

      And who provided her with id? Tilyn asked, still studying the face in the picture.

      I'll send someone else to find that. I want you to find the woman and find out what she knows.

      Should be simple. Tilyn stood, leaving the photo on the desk. I should have a report for you by tomorrow.

      Tonight, if possible. Time matters, especially now.

      Tilyn smiled his understanding and let himself out of the office. He risked one quick glance back as he shut the door. Kuran brooded over the picture, smoothing his mustache with one finger, over and over.

      Tilyn walked out of the office block into the drizzle of cold rain. He had everything he needed in his pockets. Few people had access to vehicles on Tivor.

      He showed his badge at the gate to the warehouse district. The guard let him in with a nod. Tilyn joined the stream of workers going in and out of the district.

      The warehouse he wanted was one in a row. There were trucks backed up to the entrances of the others, but not this one. A single guard stood near the door, blocking entry.

      This warehouse is off limits, the guard said as Tilyn approached.

      Tilyn showed his badge again. I'm here to clear it.

      The guard nodded and stepped aside. He pushed one side of the wide doors open. Tilyn stepped into the warehouse. The lights flickered overhead and came on, dim yellow. The guard slid the door shut again.

      Tilyn stood for a moment, taking in the feel of the room. Tall crates were lined up across the entire floor. A single narrow aisle connected the two sets of doors. Tilyn walked to the far side, hands in his pockets as he approached the door that opened into the space port. It was locked, secured as it should be. He rattled it, just in case. The door was solidly bolted.

      He looked up at the tops of the crates. How had the woman been left behind without the inspector noticing? As far as he could tell, the room was solidly packed.

      Tilyn climbed up the side of a crate. It was easier than he expected. The crate wobbled as he stood on top. There were a few small gaps between crates, but nothing large enough to hide a person. The corners of the room were dim, hidden in shadow. The support beams jutted out, making small cubbies. He picked his way over to the nearest to investigate.

      Scum lined a puddle of water in the tiny pocket between the beams. It would be a miserable place to hide, but it would be possible to squeeze into the space, provided the person was small. She could have hidden here, in the corner while the cargo was packed around her. It would have been easy to climb a crate and walk across the tops to the far door. He flipped his handlight on, shining it across the warehouse.

      The old door, the one the woman had used, was hard to see among the shadows. She had to have known it was there. The main doors were far easier to spot but much harder to open. The road outside was well lit and constantly patrolled.

      He picked his way across the tops of the crates to the small door. He lowered himself off the last crate to the floor. The lock on the door was old, a simple mechanical one. So, she wasn't necessarily an expert at picking locks. She'd made just enough noise doing it to trigger the security camera.

      He squatted down and changed the filter on his handlight. Reddish light played over the doorframe and lock. She was professional enough not to leave prints. He clicked the handlight back off and removed the filter. This wasn't going to be as easy as Tilyn had hoped.

      He used a different filter, bathing the whole area in blue light. He got no readings. She had been too clean and left nothing he could work with.

      That left the photo. She had been wearing something dark and shapeless, with a scarf over her hair. She looked just like any other woman in Milaga. And that was the problem. The only people with access to the warehouse during the night were the crews of the spaceships. He needed to go back to his office, to access other security pictures.

      Tilyn straightened and returned his handlight to normal. He poked around the crates near the door, hoping to find something. There was no sign anyone had been here last night.

      He took one last look at the door. The lock showed no sign of being forced but when he turned the knob the door opened. He tried locking the door, but the bar wouldn't seat. So, she must not have cared if the door locked behind her again. Or she wasn't as adept as he thought. No, the facts didn't fit. She wasn't professional or she would never have been caught on the camera.

      But then, who was she? Why was she on Tivor? What business could anyone from the Empire have here? If they suspected what Kuran and the other leaders planned, the Empire would have sent more people in to confirm the rumors. Why send one woman, a novice spy?

      He had to find out who she was, why she was here. The answers weren't in the warehouse.

      Or in the garbage strewn alley outside. He wrinkled his nose over the smell and went back out the main doors instead. The guard was still standing outside, blocking access to the warehouse.

      It's cleared for unloading, Tilyn informed him. If anyone finds anything suspicious, though, let me know immediately.

      Yes, sir. The guard motioned to the trucks rumbling up and down the street.

      Tilyn stepped out of their way.

      He thought over what he'd found as he walked back to the gate. She was professional enough not to leave obvious traces but amateur enough to break the lock and get caught on camera. Was that planned? Was she the lure to keep them from finding the real threat? That might make sense.

      He questioned the guards at the gate to the district. They hadn't seen anyone new, not that they remembered. Or anyone acting suspicious. No one else Tilyn asked had either, but that was not unexpected. Most citizens of Tivor knew nothing and saw little when asked by the police.

      Tilyn walked back to headquarters, head bowed against the thin cold rain. The woman was a puzzle.

      Headquarters was a drab building, a gray square with tiny windows. It looked like most of the other buildings in Milaga. No effort had been made to make them attractive. There were no trees, no flowers, nothing but plascrete and the occasional weed. He paused across the street. What was it like on other worlds? Tilyn had seen pictures, a few blurred photos necessary to his job. Some had shown flowers.

      Change was coming, he told himself. Tivor was soon going to be a lot richer. Maybe then they could afford to plant flowers in front of the government buildings.

      His mother had grown flowers, a tiny box of them in one window. Most of them had died of a late frost the year his father died. His mother hadn't planted flowers again after that.

      Why was he thinking of flowers? He had a job to do. He shook water off his head and went into the building.

      His office was a tiny corner walled only by shelves. If he stood, he could see a dozen other police officers at their desks. It was cold in his corner. But it had a window. He could look outside and see the rain. He could imagine flowers where the weeds grew in the cracks of the pavement. He could occasionally watch the clouds and sometimes, when he was working late, the stars. He watched a flock of brown sparrows huddle against the rain on a wire overhead. Sometimes, he went out during his lunch and spread crumbs on the pavement for the birds.

      He had no time to think of birds today. He opened his comp pad and typed. He accessed all security feeds for the port for last night. He watched the ships land. He ran it fast and watched as the crews hauled cargo into the warehouses. None of them looked like the woman. He scanned through the entire night. He saw nothing and no one that could be the woman. He accessed the records for the warehouse and found the name of the ship that unloaded cargo. He focused on that ship and still saw no one that could be the woman. All crew was accounted for before the ship lifted.

      Then how had the woman gotten into the warehouse? And why pick the lock into the city if that's where she had come from? She had to have gotten off the ship somehow and he had just missed it. He watched the feed again, slower this time. The crew going in and out of the ship were impossible to count in the feed. He saw no one go in the warehouse who didn't come back out. He finally shook his head. That was a dead end. He had to find out where the woman went afterwards.

      He retrieved the photo from the file Kuran had left for him. He studied it a long moment. The security system was off while the crews unloaded cargo. The camera was set after the crew finished and left. It only took pictures if a sound triggered it. A way to save cost, it might cost them everything if he couldn't find the woman.

      So far, all he was finding were dead ends.

      He held the photo, studying her face, memorizing every shadowed detail.

      Chapter 4

      Lief picked me up, just as Rian promised. I climbed into the cab of the truck beside him. He pushed the truck into gear. We rumbled down the street in a line of other trucks leaving the manufacturing plants.

      He pulled into line, waiting his turn to pass through the gate. How good was the id Rian had given me? I had to trust her and I didn't want to. She made me nervous. She knew too much and I knew too little.

      I fingered the hidden pockets in my skirt as we crawled closer to the gate.

      Something was up. The guards talked to each driver, stopping each truck. I glanced nervously at Lief.

      He turned to me and grinned, showing me widely spaced teeth stained yellow. Don't worry. Rian knows what she's doing. We won't let the police have you. Yet.

      How reassuring, I murmured.

      Lief grinned wider as he jammed the truck into gear. We crept one length forward. I watched the truck at the gate. The guards made the driver climb out while they searched his truck. They let him get back in and waved him on after a brief search.

      We lurched forward again. Three more trucks. Each was searched. And then it was our turn.

      Lief pulled the truck up and stopped it. I hoped they didn't ask me to show them how to drive it. I didn't think I could do it. I could fly a ship across the galaxy but I couldn't drive a truck down the street.

      The guard waved us out of the cab. I climbed out on my side. I kept my head down. I was nervous and it showed, but the guard didn't act like it was suspicious. He was paid to make people nervous.

      Papers? he asked me.

      I pulled out the card Rian had made for me and handed it to him.

      He glanced at it and handed it back. Business?

      I help deliver— I started.

      That's what you want us to think. Just remember to hand over our cut this weekend. He leered and waved me back into the truck.

      I climbed in. What kind of delivery service did Lief usually run? I glanced over at him as he pushed the truck into motion again. He ignored me, concentrating on driving the truck through the gate and into the city.

      I didn't like what the guard inferred. Was that how Rian had gotten her information? Was she running a prostitution ring or was it Lief or someone else? I didn't want to be linked to them any longer than I had to. I doubted Lowell had set this up. Lief and Rian were not working with him, whatever they might say.

      If they weren't, then where had they gotten their information? Why would they set me up? Why play this elaborate game unless they really did want me to help them?

      No, this wasn't Trythia where I had no other choice. This was Tivor. I'd been gone for almost nine years, but Milaga hadn't changed that much. I knew all sorts of things and people that Rian and Lief didn't know I knew. No one left Tivor, and if they did somehow manage that miracle, they didn't come back. No one believed I was from Tivor. So much the better.

      The truck rumbled to a halt in front of a large building. It looked like all the others. It was squat and gray and streaked with rain and bird droppings.

      You stay here, Lief told me as he shut off the truck.

      I was happy to comply. I stayed in the cab, out of the rain, while he unloaded a few boxes and talked with the man who came out of the building. The man gave me a hard look. He asked Lief something and gestured at me. Lief shook his head. He had his back to me. The man argued for a moment before laughing. He signed Lief's papers and went into his building, hauling the boxes on a hand cart behind him. Lief got back into the truck. We lurched into motion again.

      So I'm not for sale? I asked.

      Lief shot me a measuring look. You could be if you wanted, although management prefers to only use those they know they can trust. You'd have to prove that first.

      Not my occupation. I'll pass.

      Lief didn't answer.

      We made four more stops. Lief told me to stay in the truck each time. I tried to read his papers when he got back in. It was lists of numbers and codes. I had no idea what they meant

      Lief pulled the truck to a stop in front of a smaller building in a more rundown section of town. Lunch, he announced.

      I got out of the truck and followed him into the building. He walked straight in and past a receptionist who looked tougher than a crime syndicate thug. He gave me a sharp glance but said nothing when I followed Lief past his station.

      The carpet in the back room was stained and worn. The furniture wasn't in much better shape. A handful of mismatched chairs and a couple of tables patched with tape kept a single counter company. The first table held an assortment of battered cooking pots. Three men and one woman sat at the other table, sorting through stacks of files strewn over the top. They gave me searching looks.

      Rian found her, Lief said.

      The woman and two of the men nodded.

      The last man stared suspiciously at me. How do we know we can trust her?

      We don't, Lief answered.

      How do I know I can trust you? I answered. I was told to expect one man, not a whole organization. Who do you really work for?

      Ourselves, the woman snapped. She must have sent a silent signal to the suspicious man. He shut up.

      Eat something, another man ordered me. He handed me a chipped plate and pushed me towards the table of cooking pots before turning back to the files. The woman had her head next to another man's, both whispering as they scanned the pages one by one. The equipment they used was at least thirty years obsolete. It was state of the art on Tivor.

      I lifted a lid from a pot and sniffed the blob of gray stuff inside. It smelled pasty and stale. I sighed and scooped a spoonful onto my plate. This was the best food ever got on Tivor. I'd been spoiled by real food and real seasonings.

      I found an empty chair near the back of the room and tried to eat the stuff. It was bland and goopy and tended to stick to my mouth.

      Lief watched me eat, a superior smile playing around his mouth as he shoveled in spoonfuls of the stuff. I couldn't stomach much of it, especially with him watching me.

      Spacer, he said when I put my half eaten plate back on the table in the pile of dirty dishes. He wanted it to be an insult. It wasn't.

      We sat in the office while the others whispered for a while. They took Lief's papers and handed him a new stack. Lief headed back out to the truck. I followed. No one stopped me.

      We spent a rainy afternoon delivering mysterious boxes and collecting a few. I stayed in the truck, bored and tired, while Lief talked to the people accepting his boxes. Some of them watched me, most ignored me.

      I wondered why I was there. What was the reason to have me drive around with Lief? Especially when he just ignored me. I wasn't doing anything. I wasn't getting any closer to my goal. I couldn't find anything to care with. I ignored Lief and watched the rain wriggle over the windshield.

      I didn't want to be on Tivor. I wanted to find Jasyn and fly as far away from my past as I could. I wanted to find somewhere to grieve, someplace I could be alone, someplace where I could cry if I felt like it and no one would try to cheer me up. I missed Tayvis. I didn't want to believe he was dead on Trythia but Lowell wouldn't lie to me about that. No matter how badly he wanted

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