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EXCERPT The Designer People

Lucinda was a “designer child”. Given genius level intelligence in an embryonic Thieves Guild lab, she learned survival in a harsh world. At twelve, she was rescued and adopted into a loving family. As an adult Lucinda chose to fight her former masters by joining the police force. She works hard to earn her place among Vensoog’s law enforcement community.On her first assignment, compassion impels her to protect an alien mother and daughter fleeing off-planet bounty hunters. To ensure their safety, she must defeat a deadly Soturi warrior in hand-to-hand combat. Then she rescues a ‘designer child’ who is a younger double for herself from a sex trafficking ring. To solve this case and rescue the other children trapped by those same criminals, she must capture a vicious Thieves Guild assassin. But even with the help of the best private eye on Vensoog, these are tough cases for a rookie cop.

Sister, Sister

IT WAS MIDNIGHT and Lucinda nursed a cup of Cafka as she waited for the time to report in for her first shift on Port Recovery’s Security forces. Agra, her Dactyl, snuggled with her littermate Saura in the fur-lined nest made especially for them. Dactyls were six-limbed flying mammals native to Vensoog. They came in all sizes, from creatures large enough to hunt the Water Dragons living in the rivers and along the channels between the Equator Islands, to miniatures like Agra and Saura who were tiny enough to hold in your hand. Although tiny, they possessed all the characteristics of their species: limitless curiosity about the world around them, wings covered with long lint-like hair, a fluffy, down-coated body, talons on the rear feet, and arms with hand-like paws. Humans fell in love with them because of their soft coats, large ears, big dark eyes and pointed noses.

In the wild, Dactyls depended on their lightning fast flight speed to escape from predators. Like the Quirka, another native pet adopted by the settlers, Dactyls were empathic, bonding in love with their chosen humans.

Domesticated dactyls were rare; they were shy and seldom tamed unless taken as kits. Several years ago, Lucinda and her foster brother Rupert had been on a plant foraging expedition and found four orphaned, hungry Dactyl kits and adopted them into the family. The two males had bonded with the girl’s foster brothers, Roderick and Rupert.

Because she intended to keep Agra with her while on duty, Lucinda and the dactyl had undergone specialized training as to how the dactyl should behave during the times when she accompanied Lucinda to work.

Lucinda was not yet a full-fledged officer in the planetary police force; all cadets had to do a three-month stint under a trainer before transitioning to a qualified officer. Cadets like Lucinda, and Agra in this case, remained on probation until their trainer was satisfied with their on-the-job performance.

Lucinda was excited to begin, although she let none of her anticipation show in her face, not even to her sister Juliette, sitting across from her in a night robe. The sisters looked nothing alike. Juliette was tiny, with a thin body, green eyes and a long, curly mane of red hair, while Lucinda was tall and full-bodied. Her white-blond hair, cut to chin length, fluffed around a heart-shaped face with red, cupid bow lips, a short nose and light grey eyes.

When Juliette and Lucinda were twelve and their younger sister Violet was ten, Lady Katherine and Lord Zack had come to the center looking for Lord Zack’s orphaned nephews Rupert and Roderick.

Discovering the illegal nature of Grouter’s operation, the couple had made sure Grouter was arrested for his part in the child sex trade. They adopted Lucinda, Juliette, and Violet as well as Zack’s nephews. Although the three girls considered themselves sisters, they were ‘designer children’ who had been ordered to specifications. They had been born in a laboratory on one of the moons of Fenris and later lived on Fenris in a child placement center run by Hans Grouter. Grouter hid his identity as a lieutenant in the local Thieves Guild by posing as a dedicated government official, existing in an uneasy alliance with Jerry Van Doyle, who ran the Guilds prostitution business. Over Grouter’s protests, Van Doyle recruited much of his “new meat” for the child prostitution arm from the Fenris Child Placement center.

Grouter had plans of his own for the girls, so he protected them from being used by Van Doyle. However, their life was by no means an easy one. From the first day they arrived, they had been subjected to harsh training methods to enable them to utilize their programed genetics for the Guild’s criminal purposes. By the time Lady Katherine and her husband had rescued them, the girls were already an accomplished team of thieves who raided the rich of Fenris at Grouter’s request.

Five years after coming to Vensoog, Juliette and Lucinda were just a few months away from receiving their Match Lists. Under Vensoog law, receiving your first List made you a full adult. The Match Lists had been created to help preserve the biological diversity of the human population. Traditionally they were issued by the Makers and given to all young people who came of age during Festivals in the spring and fall of each year. Varying opinions as the usefulness of the lists abounded among natives to Vensoog. Some like Laird Genevieve thought them simply useless, others believed you always found your true love on your List. But that was for the future; right now Lucinda was more concerned with her present situation.

For the next three months she would be on her own in the apartment because Juliette was leaving later that morning on an expedition to the largely unexplored northern continent of Kitzingen.

As Lady Katherine’s First Daughter and direct heir, Juliette was learning her trade by shadowing her mother when Parliament was in session. Juliette was destined to be heavily involved in politics; Lady Katherine wasn’t only the next in line to rule Veiled Isle, she was Clan O’Teague’s Parliamentary Representative. However, Parliament only met three times per year, and Juliette was taking advantage of the free time to go out with one of the exploring expeditions to Kitingzen, the closest of the four largely unexplored continents.

“There is just one tinyfavor I need you to do while I’m gone,” Juliette said.

Lucinda eyed her suspiciously. Juliette’s designed genetics made her naturally manipulative, and while Lucinda’s had given her genius level intelligence, as a child she had more than once been tricked by her sister into doing something she hadn’t intended to do.

“What kind of favor?” she asked.

“I got tapped for helping with the plans for the Harvest Festival and I need you to stand in for me.” Seeing the refusal in her sister’s face, she rushed on, “it’s not a big deal; I’m not in charge of anything. It’s mostly showing up at a few meetings to vote on what the committee decides and going to the reception for the Free Traders when their delegation arrives. Please?”

Lucinda scowled at her. “I might be on duty when they have their meetings. Police work isn’t like a regular job; there’s a lot of unscheduled overtime.”

Juliette smiled winningly at her. “It’s okay if you have to miss a couple of meetings because of work. I cleared that with Duchesse St. Vyre, the head of the committee. She won’t mind, as long as you let her know.”

“What about this reception? Is it formal?”

“Well, yes, but you have that lovely new dress you got for Jayla’s wedding. It’s a shame to let it sit in the closet.”

Trapped, Lucinda gave in. “Oh, alright, just let me know when these meetings take place. You owe me though.”

Her sister jumped up and gave her a big hug. “I already uploaded everything to your calendar. You are the absolute, bestsister. Anything you want, I promise.”

“I’m the best patsy, you mean,” Lucinda snorted.

The house alarm chimed, signaling her it was time to leave for her shift. She hugged Juliette again and stood up to put on her jacket. “C’mon, Agra, it’s time to go,” she told the Dactyl, who reluctantly left the warm nest and fluttered over to her shoulder, yawning.

Knowing Juliette would have left for Kitingzen when she came back from work, Lucinda stopped and looked at her. “You be careful out there, okay?”

“I promise,” her sister said. “Besides, thanks to Dad, I’ve got Bridge and Terrence Mann along as minders, remember?”

Lucinda laughed, hugged her again, and left. She opened the garage section attached to their apartment and rolled out her air sled. Agra obediently settled into a made-to-order Quirka Seat attached to the dash. With so many Vensoogers having Quirka, the Quirka Seats, which resembled an upside-down helmet with a glass faceplate, had become popular.

Agra, being about the same size as a Quirka, fit into the seat just fine, her wings taking up the same space as a Quirka’s plumy tail. Mini Dactyls such as Agra and Saura came in all colors. Agra’s fur was a mixture of pale green, red and yellow, the skin on her face, feet and hands was a pale tan, shading to a darker shade outlining her eyes and on her nose. Dactyls were magpies and loved glittering jewelry, which Agra usually wore in the form of a bracelet around her neck. Tonight, Agra’s neck adornment was a braided tan and brown leather collar to match Lucinda’s Security uniform. Although plain, Lucinda had added several shiny flat metal bars etched with her badge number.

Settlers had adopted the Dactyls and Quirkas because both animals were small, affectionate and avid hunters of household vermin, which crept into human dwellings despite the best efforts of modern technology. The Quirka’s and Dactyls had returned the favor because humans provided a mutually satisfactory love bond, and a ready source of edible goodies.

Lucinda threw a leg over the seat, strapped on her own helmet and fired up the sled. There was still some traffic out because Port Recovery, the capital of Vensoog, never really slept, but this section of the city was quiet as most residents who lived in the girl’s neighborhood were in bed.

The apartment was located over a shop near their cousin Jayla’s in a high-end merchant section of town. The two-story domed buildings, a necessity because of Vensoog’s seasonal hurricane winds, were mostly dark because of the late hour but as she neared the center of town more lights showed in the windows. As she moved toward the core of the island where the city government offices were located, she could see the tips of shuttle noses at the spaceport peeking over the tops of the large government buildings.

When the Clans first landed on Vensoog, the huge city domes had been used as shelters. As the Clans moved to their permanent territories, the domes had been converted to government and commercial uses.

Lucinda parked her sled in the security employees parking lot, showing her brand-new ID to the gate guard, who nodded, grinning at her, and she and Agra went inside for roll call.

There was a mixed assortment of officers waiting in the roll call room: young, old, male and female. Lucinda took a seat by her trainer, Sgt. Mira Forest. She knew she had been lucky to draw Mira, a twenty-year veteran of the streets with a reputation as the best trainer in Port Recovery. One look at Mira and people immediately knew she was a cop from her short pepper and salt hair, tough, blocky build and most of all, the look in her eyes. She was a dead shot with both a pulsar rifle and pistol. Mira had been offered promotions to detective grade numerous times and refused. She preferred to stay on the streets and train young recruits.

Although she was the only one with a Dactyl, Lucinda was relieved to see that about a third of her fellow officers had a Quirka perched on a shoulder. About the size of a human fist, Quirka’s faces resembled an Old Earth hedgehog. Quirkas had a squirrel-like body, hand-like paws and feet, a pointed nose and small upstanding ears. Their primary defense against predators in the wild, venom tipped quills, ran along their spine from their shoulders to their plumy tails. Like the small Dactyls, they were omnivores.

Lucinda had been a little worried Agra’s presence might cause issues. Officers who were accompanied by Quirka or Dactyls were required to take special courses with them in how the animals should behave while on duty. She had been relieved when Agra easily passed the course. If she had failed, she wouldn’t have been able to join Lucinda on duty until she passed.

Lucinda glanced at her mini-porta-tab to ensure she had received the list of the latest B.O.L.O. (Be On The Lookout) updates. A rash of break-ins along the waterfront shops had been happening, some vandalism by persons unknown in a couple of commercial sled parks, there was a list of stolen air sleds, and a peeper had been reported in a couple of neighborhoods.

When she joined Mira in the locker-room, she found the older woman frowning at her own porta-tab.

“Is something wrong?”

Mira tossed her a crystal DNA key for her official sled. “That is for your sled. If you’ve got one of those fancy Quirka seats for—Agra, is it? You can snap it into place. I’m afraid you’ll have to use your personal one. Command hasn’t gotten around to issuing them for the rank and file yet.”

Lucinda caught the key easily and pulled the Quirka seat out of her locker. Tucking it under her arm, she followed her trainer out to the sled park.

“Why were you frowning just now?”

Mira shrugged. “Nothing really, I heard a few rumors there is some smuggling near the docks.”

“Isn’t that our area?”

“Uh-huh. This is your first night, so stick close. Don’t go chasing off when you see something without telling me first. I’ll do the same for you.”

Lucinda activated the key and pushed it into the waiting slot on the dash of her sled. The DNA encoding meant that from now on, she would be the only one who could start it. When she gripped the handlebars the sled purred into life. She followed Mira out the gate of the secure lot and the pair of them rode side by side toward the docks and warehouses. There were few homes in this area, just manufacturing, small shops serving the offices and the warehouses who needed access to the ships bringing in meats, fish, harvested crops, and other raw materials from the outer islands.

Lucinda and Mira stopped their sleds at the edge of the district and dismounted, parking the sleds in the designated area saved for official vehicles.

“A map of our patrol area should have been downloaded to your sled controls. Set the monitor to meet us at the warehouses in an hour,” Mira instructed.

Several storefronts selling paper, tools and a few all-night eateries serving simple, fast food and Cafka lined both sides of the street leading down to the docks.

“We do a foot patrol from here,” Mira told her. “Keep your eyes open for anything unusual.”

“That one looks as if there are workers inside,” Lucinda said, gesturing to a lighted warehouse with its own attached dock.

Mira consulted her tab. “That belongs to Medford textile. They are supposed to be getting in a shipment of dragon silk to ship off world. We’ll swing by there on our beat. We start here; we each take one side of the street. Check the windows and test the shop doors. If you find one open, tag me.”

 

Domestic Disturbance

The street was quiet. At first, Lucinda had been a little nervous, but her nerves soon smoothed out. At least until she found the open door on a shop specializing in small hand tools.

She tapped her shoulder com. “Mira, I’ve got an unlocked door here.”

“Okay, wait for me before you go in,” Mira instructed, calling it in as she crossed the street.

Once there, she shone her light on the lock. “Doesn’t seem to have been forced,” she said. “Okay rookie, this is how it goes down. Draw your weapon. We enter and check each side of the store for someone who shouldn’t be there. I’m going in high, you go in low. Try not to shoot any shop owners who just forgot to lock up.”

They were moving cautiously through aisles of small tools when they heard the hullabaloo start at the back of the store.

“You cheating bastard! I come down to bring you dinner because you’re working late, and I find you boinking this slut!” A woman’s voice shouted, and there was a splat as if something messy hit a solid object.

Lucinda turned the corner of an aisle in time to see a man with his trousers partially undone wiping the remains of a messy take-out box dripping sauce and noodles off his face. Just as she arrived, the woman who had obviously thrown it jumped on another woman sitting half-dressed on the low counter. The two went over backwards, pulling hair, kicking and biting.

‘Hey, no!” the man cried, and jumped in to separate them.

“PRS! Freeze!” Lucinda shouted. Seeing this had no effect, she holstered her gun and grabbed the nearest combatant, who happened to be the man, and pulled him out of the fight.

In the meantime, Mira had arrived and dived into the roiling mass of flying fists and kicks behind the counter. She separated the half-dressed woman from the pile, dragging her around the display case where there was more room to handcuff her. Climbing over the countertop the wife leaped to attack again, landing on Mira to reach her prisoner. The three careened around the area between the sales counter and a tool display, slipping in the spilled sauce and noodles, as they knocked over stands of products.

Mira ended up on her butt underneath the fighting women. The wife had the advantage now because of the younger woman’s cuffed hands, and she used it mercilessly, landing several fist blows and kicks on the other woman’s face and breast. She also managed to raise a lump over Mira’s eye when she missed her target and got Mira instead.

Shoving the husband down in a seated position against a wall, Lucinda told him sternly, “Stay there,” and rushed to help her trainer.

She grabbed the wife by the back of her hair and heaved her off Mira and her captive. She forced the woman down on her belly and pulled her hands behind her to apply restraints.

Disobeying Lucinda’s order to stay where he was, the husband got up to help his girlfriend. Agra flew at his face, talons on her hind feet extended. He ducked Agra’s charge, but he needed to get by Lucinda to reach Mira and her captive. Her hands busy restraining his cursing wife, Lucinda used her boot to shove him away. He slipped in the spilled dinner again, and ended up on his rump covered in sauce and noodles.

“I told you to stay where I put you! Go sit down!” Lucinda yelled.

Agra flew in his face again, this time hissing a threat.

Eying the Dactyl warily, the man dropped back down.

“You okay?” Lucinda asked Mira, who had staggered to her feet, dragging her captive with her.

“Just dandy,” Mira said, swiping a smear of sauce off her chin and then wiping her hand on her captive’s still undone blouse. “Welcome to patrol work, rookie.” She looked down at the sauce and noodles spattered on her uniform and scowled. “I ought to charge the three of you for my cleaning bill.”

“What do we do with them?” Lucinda asked.

Mira studied the three combatants. “Depends if they want to press charges or not.”

“I do!” the half-naked one said. “She assaulted me!”

Mira sighed. “Okay, that’s one. Anybody else?”

“Yes! I want to exercise Code Duello!” the wife snapped. “She’s attempting to break up my home.”

Code Duellois a civil matter,” Mira told her firmly. “You’ll have to file that with your Clan Liaison.” She looked over at Lucinda. “Call it in rookie.”

Lucinda swallowed, and tapped her com, trying frantically to remember the codes for a domestic disturbance and assault.

The rest of the night was uneventful; sort of. They arrested three half-lit tourists serenading what one of them mistakenly thought was the home of a pretty girl he had met in a bar. They couldn’t carry a tune between them and the din roused the neighbors as well as the homeowner and his wife. The justifiably annoyed homeowners had called in the disturbance and the irate husband had dumped a bucket of water on them. The neighbors had come out to watch.

“Call the wagon,” Mira told her as they rode up, “and then shut them up.” She indicated the trio of drunken singers. “I’ve got the homeowners.”

“He didn’t need to call you guys; we didn’t know she was married,” the first singer protested, when Lucinda identified herself to them.

“I don’t think that’s her,” one of his friends whispered loudly.

“Yeah,” the third drunk opined. “Where did she change her clothes?” He pointed at Lucinda. “That looks like a uniform.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get shot,” Lucinda told them in disgust while Mira calmed the irate husband. “This neighborhood has reported a peeper these last few nights. Sit on the curb and we’ll arrange a ride for you.”

“Just go back to bed, sir,” Mira told the husband. “We’ll handle it from here.”

“I hope they lock you up and throw away the key,” he yelled, before he slammed his window shut.

Apparently losing interest in the couple, the first singer complained, “I’m hungry. How come you smell like Chinese noodles?”

“We broke up a fight. One of the weapons was a box of take-out,” Mira said dryly.

“Hey, I’m hungry too. Can we stop on the way and pick some up?” asked one of his buddies.

“No,” Mira replied.

“Hey, where are we going anyway?” the third one asked. “What kind of party are you girls taking us to?”

“Oh, you’ll like it,” Mira said. “There’s lots of people in your condition there.”

“You guys are keeping us busy tonight,” Kneckie the Patrol sled driver, told Lucinda as they pulled up in front of the dome.

When he opened the door to the sled, the aroma of noodles and sauce wafted out, along with the miasma of vomit and sour booze.

“Don’t you ever wash this thing out?” Mira demanded, as she helped Lucinda herd the three drunks inside.

“Why? We don’t have to smell it. It’s sealed off,” the driver retorted. “What have you got for us Sarge?”

“Drunk and disorderly, disturbing the peace. The homeowner and his wife will be in tomorrow morning to sign a complaint. In the meantime, throw ’em in the drunk tank.”

“Sure thing. There you go, upsy-daisy,” he told the last man, as he boosted him up into the sled. When the drunks sat down, the sled’s bench cuffs snapped into place. “See you back at headquarters, Sarge.”

Mira rolled her neck. “Sure thing Kneckie. C’mon rookie, we’ve got reports to write.”

Returning home, Lucinda parked her sled in the unused storage space on the ground floor. She glanced at the empty storefront, wondering who Jake Reynolds, their new landlord and cousin Jayla’s husband, intended to rent it to. Because the girls were upstairs, he was being very picky about the tenants.

Opening the upstairs door to the apartment, she was struck by a sense of loss, as she realized she was going to be spending her first ever night alone. At Grouters, and later in Lady Katherine and Lord Zack’s home one of her sisters had always been near.

Agra chirped comfortingly in her ear, and rubbed her cheek against Lucinda’s, emitting reassurance and love.

Lucinda reached up and stroked the Dactyl, who purred at her. “Just us tonight sweetie. Let me get out of this smelly uniform and you and I’ll take a shower and get something to eat.”

Stripping off her uniform, which gave off a faint odor of soy sauce, she examined it for stains. Programing the clothes fresher for stain and odor removal as well as cleaning and pressing, she tossed in her uniform.

She had no fear of the stains not coming out; as a housewarming present, Jayla had sent Martha, her house-bot over to set up the house comp, which included programming the clothes fresher. Looking at the menu in the Robo-Chef, Lucinda realized the ever-efficient Martha had not only stocked it, but loaded it up with her recipes, which were far superior to the standard ones it came with.

Afterwards, Lucinda did a quick clean-up of the kitchen. The apartment came with a weekly cleaning service, but she hated the smell of dirty dishes. She and Agra tumbled into bed and slept dreamlessly.

It was late afternoon when she woke to the sound of her com chiming. Looking at the display, she saw calls from both her sisters. Setting up for a multi-vid call, she slipped on a robe and wandered out to the kitchen to program a pot of Cafka for herself.

“How was your first day?” Violet asked. That far south, the sun was just coming up over the horizon. She and Jelli, her sand dragon, were on the cliffs above the Dragon nests on Talker’s Isle. Lucinda heard the ocean waves crashing on the rocks in the background.

“You look like we woke you up,” Juliette commented. She was sitting outside her pop-up dome on Kitingzen, with Saura sleeping on her lap.

“You did,” Lucinda laughed. “It was different. We broke up a fight over a man, got slopped with Chinese noodles and arrested three drunken tourists. How was your trip?”

“A bit crowded, and Jorge isn’t happy to have me here. I think Dad must have threatened him if something happened to me.”

Violet nodded. “He did that at Jayla’s wedding. He was in full protective papa mode that night. I saw him talking with Tom Draycott too, and I know he laid down the law to poor Silas Crawford. It was kind of sweet really.”

Juliette snorted. “He thinks Jorge is a risk taker. That’s why Bridge and Terrence are getting a vacation on Kitingzen.”

IsJorge reckless?” Lucinda asked, frowning.

Juliette shrugged. “I don’t have a way to judge. We haven’t really gotten started yet.”

“I thought you would be mapping the area outside the new village,” Violet remarked.

“Originally, we were going to do that, but apparently, Jorge saw something resembling buildings further along that mountain range on the vids the first-in scout made. He thinks it’s an old city, and the council gave permission to go and look, so that is where we are heading.”

“Did Mom and Dad know about this?” Lucinda asked.

“I don’t know. I just heard about it in the shuttle on the way over to our first base camp. Today we unloaded our stuff out of the shuttles and set up for the night. Tomorrow most of us will spend the day going through our equipment to make sure we have everything we are supposed to have is here and organizing it for the trail. Jorge will be taking our mapmaker and the geologist up into the hills to try to scout out the easiest path to that old road he thinks he saw. When he returns we head up the trail into unexplored territory. We will be out of com touch a lot of the time, and we could encounter anything.”

“Well, you be careful,” Lucinda said.

“I could set it up through the link for all of us to know if one of us is in trouble,” Violet offered.

“Judging by last night, mine could show trouble a lot though,” Lucinda protested. “Violet, I can’t have you two panicking whenever I have to chase someone or break up a fight.”

“It can be fixed so we can talk to each other through the link,” Violet promised.

“Okay, I guess,” Lucinda agreed. “If Juliette is going to be out of com reach we need it.”

“What are you going to be doing the rest of the day?” Violet asked Juliette.

Juliette made a face. “I’ve been told we will have a camp meeting after supper to arrange camp chores and go over the route and safety rules.”

“That doesn’t sound as if Jorge is taking unnecessary chances,” Violet remarked.

“I doubt if he is as careful as Mom on the trail though,” Juliette replied, and all three girls laughed. Lady Katherine had justly earned her reputation as an over-protective mother; she had once been tried for killing a woman who had threatened one of her children. The subsequent Clan trial had declared it a justifiable homicide, of course. Any attempt to harm children was taken very seriously on Vensoog.

“We do have a real greenhorn with us this time,” Juliette admitted. “Our map-maker, Isaac Jordan has never even been camping. I had to help him with his pop-up dome, and those things practically set themselves up.”

Picking up something in Juliette’s voice, Lucinda asked her, “Is he cute?”

“How old is he?” Violet seconded.

Juliette’s fair skin flushed a little. “He is about our age. A year older than Luce and me.”

“You didn’t say if he’s cute or not,” Lucinda pressed.

“Oh, there’s the dinner gong,” Juliette said hastily. “I’ve got to go. Later guys.” She dropped out of the link.

“She didn’t answer you,” Violet said.

“I noticed that,” Lucinda agreed. “She likes him though.”

“Attracted,” Violet corrected. “Couldn’t you feel it through the link?”

“I felt something,” Lucinda admitted. “Did you manage to do that while we were talking? You are getting really good with this link stuff.”

Violet nodded. “Drusilla is a good teacher. I’ve learned so much since I’ve been studying with her.”

Home Alone

When Lucinda turned off the vid com, she was feeling restless. Looking at the time, she decided her cousin Jayla was probably getting ready to close her shop about now. “C’mon Agra,” she told the Dactyl. “Let’s take a walk over to Whimsical.”

Wayne, Jayla’s sales-bot was up on the lift changing a light crystal when Lucinda entered. The sales-bot had been designed with a slim, toned body, light hazel eyes, and medium shaded brown hair. Wayne’s costume today was a black and white striped skin suit topped with a soft flat cap of brilliant red. He was always a hoot and had a wide variety of costumes he wore in the shop. Jayla allowed it because she claimed the bizarre outfits helped him make sales.

Lucinda found Jayla in the back room of the shop, checking inventory. Ghost, her white Quirka, bounced over to Lucinda, chirping happily, before she and Agra went into a complicated dance routine as they greeted each other.

“Did you get Wayne a new outfit?” Lucinda asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen that one before.”

Jayla grinned at her. “I told him to pick three out of the catalog. We did so well on sales this last month I could afford it. How was your first shift?”

Lucinda laughed. “Crazy, tiring, and fun. I talked to Juliette and Violet this afternoon. It turns out Juliette is going to be off the grid most of the summer. The Leader, Jorge Carmody talked the Exploration Committee into allowing them to try and reach the ruins of a city he found on one of the First-In Scout vids.”

“It sounds as if your dad knew what he was doing when he sent bodyguards out with her.”

“Yes, it does. We don’t like not being able to reach each other though so Violet set up a special link with the three of us, that way we will all know if one of us runs into trouble.”

“A sensible precaution,” Jayla agreed. “I don’t know much about this link thing. How does it work?”

“It’s a little like a combined Push/Pull,” Lucinda said. “Drusilla and Lucas discovered it when they opened a channel into that stone his grandfather gave him.”

“But you can talk to each other through it?”

“Violet says so, and she usually knows what she’s talking about.”

“Would have been handy to have when that idiot from Aphrodite kidnapped me,” Jayla said wryly.

“It sure would,” Lucinda agreed, remembering the panic that had ensued when Jayla disappeared on her way home from the last Harvest Festival.

“Would you like to stay for dinner? I think Jake should be home shortly.”

“Thanks, I will. I guess you can see I was feeling a little lonely when I got home; the apartment felt empty today,” she said ruefully.

When they arrived upstairs, the enticing smell of baked Ostamu wafted toward Lucinda. Ostamu were the large flightless birds bred by the Clans as a food source. “Umm, that smells good,” Lucinda said. “Hi Jake,” she said to Jayla’s new husband.

“Hey kid, how was your first day?” he asked, as he came over and kissed his wife hello. Shade, his Quirka, immediately bounced over to Ghost, joining in the greeting ritual. Unlike Ghost who was almost pure white, Shade was all shades of brown and grey.

“Tom was reporting to Uncle Max when I got there, so I brought him home for dinner,” he told his wife, indicating Tom Draycott, the Duc d’Orleans top investigator. Draycott was around Jake’s age, a little taller than Lucinda, with a hard-bodied, powerful build. He had dark brown hair and cynical brown eyes in a wedge-shaped face. A blaster scar ran across one cheek.

“And as you can see, I took him at his word,” Tom said. “I don’t live in the compound on Versailles Isle anymore, so I don’t get home cooking much.”

“As long as you don’t expect me to be the one who cooks it,” Jayla replied, laughing. “That is why we have Martha.”

“Jake said you were reporting to the Duc,” Lucinda remarked. “Can you tell us about the case?”

Draycott shrugged. “It isn’t a secret. Max thinks there is some smuggling going on. I spent the last five days working on the docks. If smuggling is going on, I didn’t find out who was doing it. I’ll move on to the spaceport workers next.”

“What if someone from the docks recognizes you?” Jayla asked.

He grinned at her. “I wore a disguise on the docks. My own mother wouldn’t have recognized me.”

“Do you always wear a disguise when you go undercover?” Lucinda asked.

“Most of the time. A couple of years ago I spent some time establishing some unsavory cover identities. They come in handy for undercover investigations.”

Lucinda was fascinated. “How many do you use on a single case?”

“As many as I need. Want to learn how to set one up?”

“Yes, I do. It sounds like a lot of fun.”

The four of them spent a pleasant evening talking over old times. When it turned nine o’clock, Lucinda noticed Jayla yawning.

“Guess I’d better let you get some sleep,” she told her cousin as she got up. “I forget not everyone is on the same schedule I am.”

“Me too,” Draycott agreed. “Why don’t I give you a ride? I’ve got my sled here.”

Lucinda collected a sleepy Agra who had snuggled into Shade and Ghost’s nest, tucking her inside her windbreaker before mounting behind Tom on his sled.

When he dropped her off, they arranged for him to stop by and give Lucinda the basics of creating a disguise.

Makee-Learnee

Unlike a few of the more technological oriented societies that made up the Confederated Worlds, the Clans of Vensoog preferred to teach their children a profession by having them apprentice under a more knowledgeable mentor. Lucinda spent most of her first month on the job on patrol and answering calls under Mira’s supervision.

“We switch shifts next week,” Mira told her after she had been on the job a month. “Starting tomorrow, we will trade areas with Sargent Murtaugh and his trainee. Philps, I think is his name.”

“Oh,” Lucinda said. She had begun to feel proprietary about the area near the docks and was surprised at her reluctance to switch. “What area do we get?” Lucinda asked her.

“We’ve got the spaceport. Sorry I know it’s going to disrupt your sleep cycle after you’ve just begun to settle in it, but we switch times too; They have Swing Shift. Things are slow right now,” Mira told her. “We need to take advantage of it to get you rookies as familiar with every part of the city that we can before the Harvest Festival starts and we get swamped with drunken tourists. During the Festivals, we get almost 100,000 extra tourists coming in to celebrate with us, plus the visiting merchants and Free Traders.”

The Planting and Harvest Festivals were held each Spring and Fall, and everyone who could get free usually tried to attend. During the festivals, some events like the Introductory Balls, where newly recognized adults received Match Lists, were only open to the Clans, but there was plenty of other entertainment for visitors. Port Recovery, because of the spaceport, was thrown wide open to off-planet visitors and merchants and the city took steps to entertain them royally. The Clans brought in native-made goods and Free Traders from all over the Confederation came to buy and sell their wares.

Lucinda rolled her eyes. “We can barely keep up now,” she protested. “How do we handle that many extra people?”

Mira shrugged. “A lot of us work double shifts; or extra half shifts. The Clans send a portion of their home security forces to help out as well.”

Dawn was breaking, and the sky had started to lighten when Lucinda heard the screaming.

“I think it’s coming from down by the boats,” she told Mira, and the pair took off running. Agra fluttered over Lucinda’s head, making excited noises. Even tiny Dactyls like Agra could fly faster than a human could run, but she kept by Lucinda as she had been taught.

Mira had turned on her headlamp and used it to look around. “PRS!” she shouted. “Where are you?”

It was still dark enough that the moored boats cast dark shadows on the wharf. Long plastacrete ramps extended out over the channel. Agra’s acute eyesight spotted something at the base of the farthest ramp, and she gave a shrill keen and dove toward it.

“Over here Mira!” Lucinda called.

When she arrived at the ramp, she found Agra hovering over the body of a woman. “Good girl,” she praised the Dactyl, who preened in response, perching herself on her mistress’s shoulder and looking down with interest. Dactyls were inherently curious, and part of the training she and Lucinda were given had included not touching a body without permission. Lucinda ran her Porta-tab over the body, scanning for life signs. She found none.

“She’s dead,” she reported looking up at Mira.

“Damn!” the other woman said. “Well, call in our sleds, and let’s get this crime scene sealed off. Then we should inspect the area around the body while we wait for the coroner to get here. Document anything you find that looks as if it doesn’t belong, but don’t move it.”

Their sleds arrived just as Mira finished calling in to report the body. Agra watched as Lucinda opened the side of her sled and pulled out the compressed privacy screens. Jamming one end into the ground near the ramp, she pulled on the loose end and made a wide circle around the body as the screens decompressed and grew to full size.

It was about a half hour before sunrise but they had drawn a few spectators from a nearby warehouse.

“Hey, what’s going on kid?” An older man with an air of authority asked.

“What is your name?” Lucinda asked him.

“I’m Jesse Sanders. I’m the supervisor over at Maclin enterprises,” he said, gesturing to the only lit-up warehouse in the area.

“I’m Officer Lucinda O’Teague,” Lucinda told him. “Did you or any of your workers see or hear any noises out here tonight?”

“I sure didn’t,” Sanders answered. “It’s pretty noisy inside though. We wouldn’t have noticed if Dori hadn’t stepped outside for some fresh air. She came running back in, screaming about dead people. Took me a while to calm her down. Do you want me to ask my men?”

“Thanks for the offer,” Mira answered him, “But I’m afraid we have to do it.”

“What happened?” he demanded again. “Dori ran into the warehouse yelling about dead bodies.”

“Yes, there has been a death. Would you mind going with Officer O’Teague to see if you recognize the body? In the meantime, I’ll need to start interviews with your people.”

“Uh—well, okay,” he said, reluctantly.

When he saw the state of the body, he turned green, and covered his mouth with his hand. Recognizing the signs, Lucinda hastily got him away from the immediate area around the body before he barfed, and held out an evidence bag for him to up-chunk into.

Handing him a wipe for his mouth, she waited until he had settled a bit before asking, “Do you know her?”

“No,” he said, swallowing. He looked around for somewhere to dispose of the wipe, and she held out the open evidence bag.

“Thanks,” he said. “It looked like she was wearing a ships uniform of some kind. What was left of it.”

“Did you recognize it? Do you know what ship?”

He shook his head and swallowed again. “Can we move further away? I can still smell–”

“Sure. Why don’t you come and sit down over here? The detectives may have more questions,” she suggested.

The detectives arrived at the same time as the coroner’s big sled.

Lucinda was glad to note that this time Gorsling wasn’t one of them. When she had been interning in the Coroners’ office, he had investigated the murder of Sara Lipski and there had been an unpleasant encounter, ending with Dr. Ivanov throwing him out of her lab.

“I’m Detective Jeness, and this is my partner, Detective Wilson. What do you have for us? It’s officer O’Teague, isn’t it?” The elder of the two, a tall, full-bodied woman with dark, curling grey hair asked.

“Yes,” Lucinda answered the first question. “This is Jesse Sanders. He’s the foreman in charge of the warehouse. One of his crew went out for a break, and came back in screaming about dead bodies, so he came out to investigate. My partner Mira and I heard the screams and were already on site by the time he came out.”

“How did you locate the body?” Wilson asked.

Lucinda smiled. “Agra did that. A dactyl’s smell and night vision are much better than a humans, you know.”

“Ummn,” Wilson looked Agra over speculatively. “Did she touch the body?”

“Of course not,” Lucinda said, offended on her pet’s behalf.

The Dactyl made the small snorting noise Lucinda knew meant she was irritated, and Lucinda reached up and stroked her soothingly. When the Coroner’s sled pulled up she was surprised to see Doctor Ivanov hop out. She turned to her with relief. “Hey, since when do you work the night shift?” she asked.

“Lucinda! It’s good to see you again.” The Coroner gave the girl a hug. The doctor was a short, dumpy little woman, the top of her head barely reaching Lucinda’s shoulder.

When Agra fluttered over to her, demanding her share of the attention, Dr. Ivanov laughed. “Yes, Agra it’s good to see you as well. Your new collar and badge look very good on you. Dr. Glassen called in sick,” she responded to Lucinda’s question. “One of his kids is running a fever and he’s quarantined his house until they figure out what it is. We’ve missed you in the lab. The cadet who replaced you isn’t nearly as good. How are you liking your first weeks on the job?”

“It’s been interesting,” Lucinda admitted.

“Do you need her for anything else?” Dr. Ivanov asked the detectives. “If not, she can come and help me with the body. I’m short-handed tonight.”

Wilson made a shooing motion with his hands. “By all means go with her officer.”

Lucinda followed her, and while the Doctor was checking time of death, she bagged the hands under Agra’s critical gaze.

“Humm,” Ivanov was talking to herself. Lucinda knew the spoken notes would be logged on her department recorder, and given for transcription to the hapless cadet who had taken her place in the lab.

“Female, lying face down, approximate age late twenties, with multiple lacerations on her upper torso. Clothes are partially shredded, looks like the remains of a ship’s uniform. DNA sample running through the Planetary database for ID. Mixed Race, thin, scan shows bones typical of someone who spends a lot of time off-planet. Death approximately four hours ago. Corpse is just going into rigor. Help me roll her Lucinda.”

They turned the body over. “Same lacerations on her front. Lacerations would have hurt, but none of them are deep enough to cause death,” Dr. Ivanov continued. “Death most likely was caused by the garrote around her neck. I’ll know more when I get her on my table. I see you bagged her hands. Good girl. You’re always thinking ahead. Get the body bag out of the sled, please.”

When she returned, Lucinda lowered a specially made lift, shaped in a rectangle with rounded edges and straps to hold the body bag. She helped Dr. Ivanov move the body into it. She fastened the straps to hold it in place and towed it behind her to the Doctor’s sled. Agra perched like a small gargoyle on top of the bag during the ride. Once inside the sled, she snapped the fasteners holding the lift in place.

“C’mon Agra, get off there. I need to turn on the stasis,” she told her pet, holding out a small treat. Spying the cookie, Agra flew off the bag and eagerly took it. “You did great tonight girl,” Lucinda crooned to her.

“You always talk to her like that?” inquired Wilson. “Like she’s a person?”

“She is a person,” Lucinda told him, her voice cool. “Not human so she can’t speak our language, but she understands it very well. She can pick up feelings from me, but my tone of voice reinforces it.”

“I’ve never worked with a Dactyl,” Wilson observed, “but I’ve worked with detectives who had Quirkas. They didn’t take to me, the Quirkas, I mean.”

“I see,” Lucinda nodded politely.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Wilson said. “Why is that?”

Lucinda hesitated, then said, “Quirkas and Dactyls read emotions the way a Dragon Talker does. They probably sensed that you don’t really like them.”

She was relieved when Dr. Ivanov returned to the sled with her kit. “Mira’s looking for you, Lucinda.”

“Thanks, Doctor Ivanov,” she said. “C’mon Agra. We need to get back to work.”

“Wilson giving you a hard time?” Mira asked when she returned.

“Not exactly; he had a lot of questions about Quirkas and Dactyls. Lab protocol says I couldn’t leave the body unattended until Doctor Ivanov got back to the sled anyway. Sorry, I didn’t get back sooner.”

Mira nodded understandably, “One of the penalties of being uniform, I’m afraid; everybody and his brother gives us orders. Now our next job is to try to get names and addresses from everyone in the crowd for the detectives.”

Lucinda had just about finished her share of this chore when she thought she recognized Tom’s familiar stance on one of the men watching the crowd. She was so surprised she stopped and stared,

Tom, if it was him, was wearing one of the disguises he’d told her about. The man in question had black, slicked back hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. He was also wearing a black skin-suit and high heeled black boots.

“Something the matter?” Mira asked, joining her.

Lucinda jumped in surprise. “Not really. I just thought I saw someone I knew over there. He’s gone now though.”

The Sun was well up by the time they finished getting ID information from the warehouse crew. Lucinda dictated her report into her com on the way back to headquarters. When they arrived, she read through it, initialed her DNA signature, made two copies, one for her personal file and one that she sent on to the detectives after Mira looked through it.

Agra had fallen asleep in her Dactyl seat when Lucinda drove into her storage area. Gently she pried the little creature out of it and carried her upstairs where she set her in her comfy sleep basket. Stripping off her uniform and Agra’s collar, she tossed them into the clothing recycler before slipping into a loose shirt and shorts. She tumbled into bed already half asleep.

She had set her alarm to wake up a little early, so she was up, dressed and enjoying a second cup of Cafka while Agra sulked over her breakfast of chopped nuts, fruit and fish flake, when Tom knocked on the door.

“Let him in,” she told the House Comp getting another cup out of the cupboard.

“Cafka?” She asked, holding up the cup.

“I’d love some,” he told her. “I’ve been up all night. Good morning, girl,” he said to Agra, who ignored him. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s missing Saura, her littermate,” Lucinda explained. “Saura went out to Kitingzen with Juliette.”

“Do you have sweetener?” He asked. “I need the boost.”

“Well at least you’ve taken off that lounge lizard disguise,” Lucinda remarked, handing him the sugar bowl.

“You didrecognize me. I thought you might have. What gave me away?”

She lifted her shoulders. “It was a good disguise, but I recognized the way you stand. You always stand like you’re ready for a fight.”

He stared at her, and slowly sat down in a chair. “I fooled both the Duc and Jake with that one once. You’re going to make a damn good cop someday.”

“Thanks,” Lucinda felt her face blushing. “I bet you haven’t had anything to eat either, have you? I’ll dial up one of Martha’s specialties.”

He caught her hand and kissed it. “Bless you, I’m starving.”

Lucinda watched, amused as Tom inhaled her food. “Don’t think you are going to get away without telling me why you were there,” she said. “I’m assuming this is a part of your investigation. How is that going by the way?”

He poured another cup of Cafka and sipped it before he answered. “Not as well as I hoped,” he admitted. “Did you identify her?”

“Not yet, but the Doc thinks she spent a lot of time in a ship and not on-planet. Why?”

He sighed. “If she is who I think she is, she was my first real lead in this case.”

She frowned at him. “What kind of information? Is the Duc running one of his private investigations again?”

“Him and the rest of the Security Council. After Jayla’s kidnapping, they decided they needed to do something about Thieves Guild activities in Clan territories. Max has several other operatives besides me working on this. All we’ve found out so far is that something worth big credits is being brought in and smuggled onto Free Traders here in port.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Not a clue,” he said in disgust. “Jora was my first real lead. She was supposed to give me the names of the ships and captains who are a part of it.”

“Jora? You know her name?”

“Jora Loman off the Free Trader Saucy Suzie. She went into the Guild as a young girl and she wants—wanted out. The Council agreed to help her, give her a new identity and stuff.”

“Does Port Recovery Security know the Council is poking it’s nose into this?”

He shook his head. “Nope, and we’d prefer it not be spread around. We think we cleaned out all the cops on the Local Mob’s payroll, but we can’t be sure.”

“But Tom,” she protested, ” Her folks need to be notified; I need to tell them who she is at least.”

“Can’t you just say it was a rumor?”

She frowned thoughtfully. “I suppose I could say I heard about a missing crewman off that particular ship.”

By this time Agra had imbibed enough Cafka to recover from her sulks and fluttered over to Tom’s shoulder and nuzzled his ear.

“Oh, so now you’re talking to me?” he asked the Dactyl.

“She likes you for some reason,” Lucinda said. “Usually she’s a little more standoffish.”

He handed Agra a wedge of fruit he hadn’t eaten, and she gobbled the wedge of melon with delicate greed. “That’s because she knows she can bum food, isn’t it, cutie?”

The fruit Tom gave her had been very juicy. Since Dactyls were not nearly as fastidious as Quirka’s, Agra had managed to smear it liberally all over her face. She transferred the stickiness to Tom by nudging his jaw with her messy nose when she finished.

He got up and put his dishes in the recycler, wiping his face with his napkin.

“Thanks again for breakfast,” he said. “Do you think you could let me know if it turns out it is Jora?”

“I suppose,” she answered.

 

THE HANDFASTING SERIES (books 1 — 5) WILL BE ON SALE UNTIL OCT 1, 2019
or WHILE COPIES LAST. (Titles Included: A Year & A Day, Forever & A Day, All Our Tomorrows, From This Day Forward, and To Love & Honor)

SERIES WILL BE RETIRED ON OCTOBER 1, 2019

THERE ARE A LIMITED NUMBER OF BOOKS STILL AVAILABLE SO DON’T WAIT!

As an author I hate to say this but being able to write a great story doesn’t always mean that story will sell. My Handfasting series, although it is selling, isn’t getting the kind of response the quality of the books merit. I consulted some publishing experts and they informed me that although the stories are great, the titles are sending mixed messages. It was recommended that I target only one of the genres: Science Fiction by changing the titles of the books and the series to appeal to science fiction readers (the genre in which the books belong). In order to prevent confusion to my readers, on October 1, I will be discontinuing the Handfasting Series. In November, I will be repackaging all the books under a new Series title: Space Colony Journals, and each book has been given a title designed to appeal to readers of science fiction. The new series will come out on October 31stin time to join the 6thbook about the O’Teague Clan: Alien Trails.

In order to clear my inventory, I am putting the Handfasting series on sale at discounted prices. All books in the series are discounted. e-books are .99¢. However, because of some distributers differing price requirements, the Paperback book discount prices will start at $8.59 but may be higher depending on which site you choose to buy from.

Links:

E-Books: https://books2read.com/ap/n41KK8/Gail-Daley

or

Gail’s web site: http://www.gaildaleysfineart.com/book-buyers.php

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/author/gaildaley

 

EXCERPT The Designer People

Lucinda was a “designer child”. Given genius level intelligence in an embryonic Thieves Guild lab, she learned survival in a harsh world. At twelve, she was rescued and adopted into a loving family. As an adult Lucinda chose to fight her former masters by joining the police force. She works hard to earn her place among Vensoog’s law enforcement community.On her first assignment, compassion impels her to protect an alien mother and daughter fleeing off-planet bounty hunters. To ensure their safety, she must defeat a deadly Soturi warrior in hand-to-hand combat. Then she rescues a ‘designer child’ who is a younger double for herself from a sex trafficking ring. To solve this case and rescue the other children trapped by those same criminals, she must capture a vicious Thieves Guild assassin. But even with the help of the best private eye on Vensoog, these are tough cases for a rookie cop.

Sister, Sister

IT WAS MIDNIGHT and Lucinda nursed a cup of Cafka as she waited for the time to report in for her first shift on Port Recovery’s Security forces. Agra, her Dactyl, snuggled with her littermate Saura in the fur-lined nest made especially for them. Dactyls were six-limbed flying mammals native to Vensoog. They came in all sizes, from creatures large enough to hunt the Water Dragons living in the rivers and along the channels between the Equator Islands, to miniatures like Agra and Saura who were tiny enough to hold in your hand. Although tiny, they possessed all the characteristics of their species: limitless curiosity about the world around them, wings covered with long lint-like hair, a fluffy, down-coated body, talons on the rear feet, and arms with hand-like paws. Humans fell in love with them because of their soft coats, large ears, big dark eyes and pointed noses.

In the wild, Dactyls depended on their lightning fast flight speed to escape from predators. Like the Quirka, another native pet adopted by the settlers, Dactyls were empathic, bonding in love with their chosen humans.

Domesticated dactyls were rare; they were shy and seldom tamed unless taken as kits. Several years ago, Lucinda and her foster brother Rupert had been on a plant foraging expedition and found four orphaned, hungry Dactyl kits and adopted them into the family. The two males had bonded with the girl’s foster brothers, Roderick and Rupert.

Because she intended to keep Agra with her while on duty, Lucinda and the dactyl had undergone specialized training as to how the dactyl should behave during the times when she accompanied Lucinda to work.

Lucinda was not yet a full-fledged officer in the planetary police force; all cadets had to do a three-month stint under a trainer before transitioning to a qualified officer. Cadets like Lucinda, and Agra in this case, remained on probation until their trainer was satisfied with their on-the-job performance.

Lucinda was excited to begin, although she let none of her anticipation show in her face, not even to her sister Juliette, sitting across from her in a night robe. The sisters looked nothing alike. Juliette was tiny, with a thin body, green eyes and a long, curly mane of red hair, while Lucinda was tall and full-bodied. Her white-blond hair, cut to chin length, fluffed around a heart-shaped face with red, cupid bow lips, a short nose and light grey eyes.

When Juliette and Lucinda were twelve and their younger sister Violet was ten, Lady Katherine and Lord Zack had come to the center looking for Lord Zack’s orphaned nephews Rupert and Roderick.

Discovering the illegal nature of Grouter’s operation, the couple had made sure Grouter was arrested for his part in the child sex trade. They adopted Lucinda, Juliette, and Violet as well as Zack’s nephews. Although the three girls considered themselves sisters, they were ‘designer children’ who had been ordered to specifications. They had been born in a laboratory on one of the moons of Fenris and later lived on Fenris in a child placement center run by Hans Grouter. Grouter hid his identity as a lieutenant in the local Thieves Guild by posing as a dedicated government official, existing in an uneasy alliance with Jerry Van Doyle, who ran the Guilds prostitution business. Over Grouter’s protests, Van Doyle recruited much of his “new meat” for the child prostitution arm from the Fenris Child Placement center.

Grouter had plans of his own for the girls, so he protected them from being used by Van Doyle. However, their life was by no means an easy one. From the first day they arrived, they had been subjected to harsh training methods to enable them to utilize their programed genetics for the Guild’s criminal purposes. By the time Lady Katherine and her husband had rescued them, the girls were already an accomplished team of thieves who raided the rich of Fenris at Grouter’s request.

Five years after coming to Vensoog, Juliette and Lucinda were just a few months away from receiving their Match Lists. Under Vensoog law, receiving your first List made you a full adult. The Match Lists had been created to help preserve the biological diversity of the human population. Traditionally they were issued by the Makers and given to all young people who came of age during Festivals in the spring and fall of each year. Varying opinions as the usefulness of the lists abounded among natives to Vensoog. Some like Laird Genevieve thought them simply useless, others believed you always found your true love on your List. But that was for the future; right now Lucinda was more concerned with her present situation.

For the next three months she would be on her own in the apartment because Juliette was leaving later that morning on an expedition to the largely unexplored northern continent of Kitzingen.

As Lady Katherine’s First Daughter and direct heir, Juliette was learning her trade by shadowing her mother when Parliament was in session. Juliette was destined to be heavily involved in politics; Lady Katherine wasn’t only the next in line to rule Veiled Isle, she was Clan O’Teague’s Parliamentary Representative. However, Parliament only met three times per year, and Juliette was taking advantage of the free time to go out with one of the exploring expeditions to Kitingzen, the closest of the four largely unexplored continents.

“There is just one tinyfavor I need you to do while I’m gone,” Juliette said.

Lucinda eyed her suspiciously. Juliette’s designed genetics made her naturally manipulative, and while Lucinda’s had given her genius level intelligence, as a child she had more than once been tricked by her sister into doing something she hadn’t intended to do.

“What kind of favor?” she asked.

“I got tapped for helping with the plans for the Harvest Festival and I need you to stand in for me.” Seeing the refusal in her sister’s face, she rushed on, “it’s not a big deal; I’m not in charge of anything. It’s mostly showing up at a few meetings to vote on what the committee decides and going to the reception for the Free Traders when their delegation arrives. Please?”

Lucinda scowled at her. “I might be on duty when they have their meetings. Police work isn’t like a regular job; there’s a lot of unscheduled overtime.”

Juliette smiled winningly at her. “It’s okay if you have to miss a couple of meetings because of work. I cleared that with Duchesse St. Vyre, the head of the committee. She won’t mind, as long as you let her know.”

“What about this reception? Is it formal?”

“Well, yes, but you have that lovely new dress you got for Jayla’s wedding. It’s a shame to let it sit in the closet.”

Trapped, Lucinda gave in. “Oh, alright, just let me know when these meetings take place. You owe me though.”

Her sister jumped up and gave her a big hug. “I already uploaded everything to your calendar. You are the absolute, bestsister. Anything you want, I promise.”

“I’m the best patsy, you mean,” Lucinda snorted.

The house alarm chimed, signaling her it was time to leave for her shift. She hugged Juliette again and stood up to put on her jacket. “C’mon, Agra, it’s time to go,” she told the Dactyl, who reluctantly left the warm nest and fluttered over to her shoulder, yawning.

Knowing Juliette would have left for Kitingzen when she came back from work, Lucinda stopped and looked at her. “You be careful out there, okay?”

“I promise,” her sister said. “Besides, thanks to Dad, I’ve got Bridge and Terrence Mann along as minders, remember?”

Lucinda laughed, hugged her again, and left. She opened the garage section attached to their apartment and rolled out her air sled. Agra obediently settled into a made-to-order Quirka Seat attached to the dash. With so many Vensoogers having Quirka, the Quirka Seats, which resembled an upside-down helmet with a glass faceplate, had become popular.

Agra, being about the same size as a Quirka, fit into the seat just fine, her wings taking up the same space as a Quirka’s plumy tail. Mini Dactyls such as Agra and Saura came in all colors. Agra’s fur was a mixture of pale green, red and yellow, the skin on her face, feet and hands was a pale tan, shading to a darker shade outlining her eyes and on her nose. Dactyls were magpies and loved glittering jewelry, which Agra usually wore in the form of a bracelet around her neck. Tonight, Agra’s neck adornment was a braided tan and brown leather collar to match Lucinda’s Security uniform. Although plain, Lucinda had added several shiny flat metal bars etched with her badge number.

Settlers had adopted the Dactyls and Quirkas because both animals were small, affectionate and avid hunters of household vermin, which crept into human dwellings despite the best efforts of modern technology. The Quirka’s and Dactyls had returned the favor because humans provided a mutually satisfactory love bond, and a ready source of edible goodies.

Lucinda threw a leg over the seat, strapped on her own helmet and fired up the sled. There was still some traffic out because Port Recovery, the capital of Vensoog, never really slept, but this section of the city was quiet as most residents who lived in the girl’s neighborhood were in bed.

The apartment was located over a shop near their cousin Jayla’s in a high-end merchant section of town. The two-story domed buildings, a necessity because of Vensoog’s seasonal hurricane winds, were mostly dark because of the late hour but as she neared the center of town more lights showed in the windows. As she moved toward the core of the island where the city government offices were located, she could see the tips of shuttle noses at the spaceport peeking over the tops of the large government buildings.

When the Clans first landed on Vensoog, the huge city domes had been used as shelters. As the Clans moved to their permanent territories, the domes had been converted to government and commercial uses.

Lucinda parked her sled in the security employees parking lot, showing her brand-new ID to the gate guard, who nodded, grinning at her, and she and Agra went inside for roll call.

There was a mixed assortment of officers waiting in the roll call room: young, old, male and female. Lucinda took a seat by her trainer, Sgt. Mira Forest. She knew she had been lucky to draw Mira, a twenty-year veteran of the streets with a reputation as the best trainer in Port Recovery. One look at Mira and people immediately knew she was a cop from her short pepper and salt hair, tough, blocky build and most of all, the look in her eyes. She was a dead shot with both a pulsar rifle and pistol. Mira had been offered promotions to detective grade numerous times and refused. She preferred to stay on the streets and train young recruits.

Although she was the only one with a Dactyl, Lucinda was relieved to see that about a third of her fellow officers had a Quirka perched on a shoulder. About the size of a human fist, Quirka’s faces resembled an Old Earth hedgehog. Quirkas had a squirrel-like body, hand-like paws and feet, a pointed nose and small upstanding ears. Their primary defense against predators in the wild, venom tipped quills, ran along their spine from their shoulders to their plumy tails. Like the small Dactyls, they were omnivores.

Lucinda had been a little worried Agra’s presence might cause issues. Officers who were accompanied by Quirka or Dactyls were required to take special courses with them in how the animals should behave while on duty. She had been relieved when Agra easily passed the course. If she had failed, she wouldn’t have been able to join Lucinda on duty until she passed.

Lucinda glanced at her mini-porta-tab to ensure she had received the list of the latest B.O.L.O. (Be On The Lookout) updates. A rash of break-ins along the waterfront shops had been happening, some vandalism by persons unknown in a couple of commercial sled parks, there was a list of stolen air sleds, and a peeper had been reported in a couple of neighborhoods.

When she joined Mira in the locker-room, she found the older woman frowning at her own porta-tab.

“Is something wrong?”

Mira tossed her a crystal DNA key for her official sled. “That is for your sled. If you’ve got one of those fancy Quirka seats for—Agra, is it? You can snap it into place. I’m afraid you’ll have to use your personal one. Command hasn’t gotten around to issuing them for the rank and file yet.”

Lucinda caught the key easily and pulled the Quirka seat out of her locker. Tucking it under her arm, she followed her trainer out to the sled park.

“Why were you frowning just now?”

Mira shrugged. “Nothing really, I heard a few rumors there is some smuggling near the docks.”

“Isn’t that our area?”

“Uh-huh. This is your first night, so stick close. Don’t go chasing off when you see something without telling me first. I’ll do the same for you.”

Lucinda activated the key and pushed it into the waiting slot on the dash of her sled. The DNA encoding meant that from now on, she would be the only one who could start it. When she gripped the handlebars the sled purred into life. She followed Mira out the gate of the secure lot and the pair of them rode side by side toward the docks and warehouses. There were few homes in this area, just manufacturing, small shops serving the offices and the warehouses who needed access to the ships bringing in meats, fish, harvested crops, and other raw materials from the outer islands.

Lucinda and Mira stopped their sleds at the edge of the district and dismounted, parking the sleds in the designated area saved for official vehicles.

“A map of our patrol area should have been downloaded to your sled controls. Set the monitor to meet us at the warehouses in an hour,” Mira instructed.

Several storefronts selling paper, tools and a few all-night eateries serving simple, fast food and Cafka lined both sides of the street leading down to the docks.

“We do a foot patrol from here,” Mira told her. “Keep your eyes open for anything unusual.”

“That one looks as if there are workers inside,” Lucinda said, gesturing to a lighted warehouse with its own attached dock.

Mira consulted her tab. “That belongs to Medford textile. They are supposed to be getting in a shipment of dragon silk to ship off world. We’ll swing by there on our beat. We start here; we each take one side of the street. Check the windows and test the shop doors. If you find one open, tag me.”

 

Domestic Disturbance

The street was quiet. At first, Lucinda had been a little nervous, but her nerves soon smoothed out. At least until she found the open door on a shop specializing in small hand tools.

She tapped her shoulder com. “Mira, I’ve got an unlocked door here.”

“Okay, wait for me before you go in,” Mira instructed, calling it in as she crossed the street.

Once there, she shone her light on the lock. “Doesn’t seem to have been forced,” she said. “Okay rookie, this is how it goes down. Draw your weapon. We enter and check each side of the store for someone who shouldn’t be there. I’m going in high, you go in low. Try not to shoot any shop owners who just forgot to lock up.”

They were moving cautiously through aisles of small tools when they heard the hullabaloo start at the back of the store.

“You cheating bastard! I come down to bring you dinner because you’re working late, and I find you boinking this slut!” A woman’s voice shouted, and there was a splat as if something messy hit a solid object.

Lucinda turned the corner of an aisle in time to see a man with his trousers partially undone wiping the remains of a messy take-out box dripping sauce and noodles off his face. Just as she arrived, the woman who had obviously thrown it jumped on another woman sitting half-dressed on the low counter. The two went over backwards, pulling hair, kicking and biting.

‘Hey, no!” the man cried, and jumped in to separate them.

“PRS! Freeze!” Lucinda shouted. Seeing this had no effect, she holstered her gun and grabbed the nearest combatant, who happened to be the man, and pulled him out of the fight.

In the meantime, Mira had arrived and dived into the roiling mass of flying fists and kicks behind the counter. She separated the half-dressed woman from the pile, dragging her around the display case where there was more room to handcuff her. Climbing over the countertop the wife leaped to attack again, landing on Mira to reach her prisoner. The three careened around the area between the sales counter and a tool display, slipping in the spilled sauce and noodles, as they knocked over stands of products.

Mira ended up on her butt underneath the fighting women. The wife had the advantage now because of the younger woman’s cuffed hands, and she used it mercilessly, landing several fist blows and kicks on the other woman’s face and breast. She also managed to raise a lump over Mira’s eye when she missed her target and got Mira instead.

Shoving the husband down in a seated position against a wall, Lucinda told him sternly, “Stay there,” and rushed to help her trainer.

She grabbed the wife by the back of her hair and heaved her off Mira and her captive. She forced the woman down on her belly and pulled her hands behind her to apply restraints.

Disobeying Lucinda’s order to stay where he was, the husband got up to help his girlfriend. Agra flew at his face, talons on her hind feet extended. He ducked Agra’s charge, but he needed to get by Lucinda to reach Mira and her captive. Her hands busy restraining his cursing wife, Lucinda used her boot to shove him away. He slipped in the spilled dinner again, and ended up on his rump covered in sauce and noodles.

“I told you to stay where I put you! Go sit down!” Lucinda yelled.

Agra flew in his face again, this time hissing a threat.

Eying the Dactyl warily, the man dropped back down.

“You okay?” Lucinda asked Mira, who had staggered to her feet, dragging her captive with her.

“Just dandy,” Mira said, swiping a smear of sauce off her chin and then wiping her hand on her captive’s still undone blouse. “Welcome to patrol work, rookie.” She looked down at the sauce and noodles spattered on her uniform and scowled. “I ought to charge the three of you for my cleaning bill.”

“What do we do with them?” Lucinda asked.

Mira studied the three combatants. “Depends if they want to press charges or not.”

“I do!” the half-naked one said. “She assaulted me!”

Mira sighed. “Okay, that’s one. Anybody else?”

“Yes! I want to exercise Code Duello!” the wife snapped. “She’s attempting to break up my home.”

Code Duellois a civil matter,” Mira told her firmly. “You’ll have to file that with your Clan Liaison.” She looked over at Lucinda. “Call it in rookie.”

Lucinda swallowed, and tapped her com, trying frantically to remember the codes for a domestic disturbance and assault.

The rest of the night was uneventful; sort of. They arrested three half-lit tourists serenading what one of them mistakenly thought was the home of a pretty girl he had met in a bar. They couldn’t carry a tune between them and the din roused the neighbors as well as the homeowner and his wife. The justifiably annoyed homeowners had called in the disturbance and the irate husband had dumped a bucket of water on them. The neighbors had come out to watch.

“Call the wagon,” Mira told her as they rode up, “and then shut them up.” She indicated the trio of drunken singers. “I’ve got the homeowners.”

“He didn’t need to call you guys; we didn’t know she was married,” the first singer protested, when Lucinda identified herself to them.

“I don’t think that’s her,” one of his friends whispered loudly.

“Yeah,” the third drunk opined. “Where did she change her clothes?” He pointed at Lucinda. “That looks like a uniform.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get shot,” Lucinda told them in disgust while Mira calmed the irate husband. “This neighborhood has reported a peeper these last few nights. Sit on the curb and we’ll arrange a ride for you.”

“Just go back to bed, sir,” Mira told the husband. “We’ll handle it from here.”

“I hope they lock you up and throw away the key,” he yelled, before he slammed his window shut.

Apparently losing interest in the couple, the first singer complained, “I’m hungry. How come you smell like Chinese noodles?”

“We broke up a fight. One of the weapons was a box of take-out,” Mira said dryly.

“Hey, I’m hungry too. Can we stop on the way and pick some up?” asked one of his buddies.

“No,” Mira replied.

“Hey, where are we going anyway?” the third one asked. “What kind of party are you girls taking us to?”

“Oh, you’ll like it,” Mira said. “There’s lots of people in your condition there.”

“You guys are keeping us busy tonight,” Kneckie the Patrol sled driver, told Lucinda as they pulled up in front of the dome.

When he opened the door to the sled, the aroma of noodles and sauce wafted out, along with the miasma of vomit and sour booze.

“Don’t you ever wash this thing out?” Mira demanded, as she helped Lucinda herd the three drunks inside.

“Why? We don’t have to smell it. It’s sealed off,” the driver retorted. “What have you got for us Sarge?”

“Drunk and disorderly, disturbing the peace. The homeowner and his wife will be in tomorrow morning to sign a complaint. In the meantime, throw ’em in the drunk tank.”

“Sure thing. There you go, upsy-daisy,” he told the last man, as he boosted him up into the sled. When the drunks sat down, the sled’s bench cuffs snapped into place. “See you back at headquarters, Sarge.”

Mira rolled her neck. “Sure thing Kneckie. C’mon rookie, we’ve got reports to write.”

Returning home, Lucinda parked her sled in the unused storage space on the ground floor. She glanced at the empty storefront, wondering who Jake Reynolds, their new landlord and cousin Jayla’s husband, intended to rent it to. Because the girls were upstairs, he was being very picky about the tenants.

Opening the upstairs door to the apartment, she was struck by a sense of loss, as she realized she was going to be spending her first ever night alone. At Grouters, and later in Lady Katherine and Lord Zack’s home one of her sisters had always been near.

Agra chirped comfortingly in her ear, and rubbed her cheek against Lucinda’s, emitting reassurance and love.

Lucinda reached up and stroked the Dactyl, who purred at her. “Just us tonight sweetie. Let me get out of this smelly uniform and you and I’ll take a shower and get something to eat.”

Stripping off her uniform, which gave off a faint odor of soy sauce, she examined it for stains. Programing the clothes fresher for stain and odor removal as well as cleaning and pressing, she tossed in her uniform.

She had no fear of the stains not coming out; as a housewarming present, Jayla had sent Martha, her house-bot over to set up the house comp, which included programming the clothes fresher. Looking at the menu in the Robo-Chef, Lucinda realized the ever-efficient Martha had not only stocked it, but loaded it up with her recipes, which were far superior to the standard ones it came with.

Afterwards, Lucinda did a quick clean-up of the kitchen. The apartment came with a weekly cleaning service, but she hated the smell of dirty dishes. She and Agra tumbled into bed and slept dreamlessly.

It was late afternoon when she woke to the sound of her com chiming. Looking at the display, she saw calls from both her sisters. Setting up for a multi-vid call, she slipped on a robe and wandered out to the kitchen to program a pot of Cafka for herself.

“How was your first day?” Violet asked. That far south, the sun was just coming up over the horizon. She and Jelli, her sand dragon, were on the cliffs above the Dragon nests on Talker’s Isle. Lucinda heard the ocean waves crashing on the rocks in the background.

“You look like we woke you up,” Juliette commented. She was sitting outside her pop-up dome on Kitingzen, with Saura sleeping on her lap.

“You did,” Lucinda laughed. “It was different. We broke up a fight over a man, got slopped with Chinese noodles and arrested three drunken tourists. How was your trip?”

“A bit crowded, and Jorge isn’t happy to have me here. I think Dad must have threatened him if something happened to me.”

Violet nodded. “He did that at Jayla’s wedding. He was in full protective papa mode that night. I saw him talking with Tom Draycott too, and I know he laid down the law to poor Silas Crawford. It was kind of sweet really.”

Juliette snorted. “He thinks Jorge is a risk taker. That’s why Bridge and Terrence are getting a vacation on Kitingzen.”

IsJorge reckless?” Lucinda asked, frowning.

Juliette shrugged. “I don’t have a way to judge. We haven’t really gotten started yet.”

“I thought you would be mapping the area outside the new village,” Violet remarked.

“Originally, we were going to do that, but apparently, Jorge saw something resembling buildings further along that mountain range on the vids the first-in scout made. He thinks it’s an old city, and the council gave permission to go and look, so that is where we are heading.”

“Did Mom and Dad know about this?” Lucinda asked.

“I don’t know. I just heard about it in the shuttle on the way over to our first base camp. Today we unloaded our stuff out of the shuttles and set up for the night. Tomorrow most of us will spend the day going through our equipment to make sure we have everything we are supposed to have is here and organizing it for the trail. Jorge will be taking our mapmaker and the geologist up into the hills to try to scout out the easiest path to that old road he thinks he saw. When he returns we head up the trail into unexplored territory. We will be out of com touch a lot of the time, and we could encounter anything.”

“Well, you be careful,” Lucinda said.

“I could set it up through the link for all of us to know if one of us is in trouble,” Violet offered.

“Judging by last night, mine could show trouble a lot though,” Lucinda protested. “Violet, I can’t have you two panicking whenever I have to chase someone or break up a fight.”

“It can be fixed so we can talk to each other through the link,” Violet promised.

“Okay, I guess,” Lucinda agreed. “If Juliette is going to be out of com reach we need it.”

“What are you going to be doing the rest of the day?” Violet asked Juliette.

Juliette made a face. “I’ve been told we will have a camp meeting after supper to arrange camp chores and go over the route and safety rules.”

“That doesn’t sound as if Jorge is taking unnecessary chances,” Violet remarked.

“I doubt if he is as careful as Mom on the trail though,” Juliette replied, and all three girls laughed. Lady Katherine had justly earned her reputation as an over-protective mother; she had once been tried for killing a woman who had threatened one of her children. The subsequent Clan trial had declared it a justifiable homicide, of course. Any attempt to harm children was taken very seriously on Vensoog.

“We do have a real greenhorn with us this time,” Juliette admitted. “Our map-maker, Isaac Jordan has never even been camping. I had to help him with his pop-up dome, and those things practically set themselves up.”

Picking up something in Juliette’s voice, Lucinda asked her, “Is he cute?”

“How old is he?” Violet seconded.

Juliette’s fair skin flushed a little. “He is about our age. A year older than Luce and me.”

“You didn’t say if he’s cute or not,” Lucinda pressed.

“Oh, there’s the dinner gong,” Juliette said hastily. “I’ve got to go. Later guys.” She dropped out of the link.

“She didn’t answer you,” Violet said.

“I noticed that,” Lucinda agreed. “She likes him though.”

“Attracted,” Violet corrected. “Couldn’t you feel it through the link?”

“I felt something,” Lucinda admitted. “Did you manage to do that while we were talking? You are getting really good with this link stuff.”

Violet nodded. “Drusilla is a good teacher. I’ve learned so much since I’ve been studying with her.”

Home Alone

When Lucinda turned off the vid com, she was feeling restless. Looking at the time, she decided her cousin Jayla was probably getting ready to close her shop about now. “C’mon Agra,” she told the Dactyl. “Let’s take a walk over to Whimsical.”

Wayne, Jayla’s sales-bot was up on the lift changing a light crystal when Lucinda entered. The sales-bot had been designed with a slim, toned body, light hazel eyes, and medium shaded brown hair. Wayne’s costume today was a black and white striped skin suit topped with a soft flat cap of brilliant red. He was always a hoot and had a wide variety of costumes he wore in the shop. Jayla allowed it because she claimed the bizarre outfits helped him make sales.

Lucinda found Jayla in the back room of the shop, checking inventory. Ghost, her white Quirka, bounced over to Lucinda, chirping happily, before she and Agra went into a complicated dance routine as they greeted each other.

“Did you get Wayne a new outfit?” Lucinda asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen that one before.”

Jayla grinned at her. “I told him to pick three out of the catalog. We did so well on sales this last month I could afford it. How was your first shift?”

Lucinda laughed. “Crazy, tiring, and fun. I talked to Juliette and Violet this afternoon. It turns out Juliette is going to be off the grid most of the summer. The Leader, Jorge Carmody talked the Exploration Committee into allowing them to try and reach the ruins of a city he found on one of the First-In Scout vids.”

“It sounds as if your dad knew what he was doing when he sent bodyguards out with her.”

“Yes, it does. We don’t like not being able to reach each other though so Violet set up a special link with the three of us, that way we will all know if one of us runs into trouble.”

“A sensible precaution,” Jayla agreed. “I don’t know much about this link thing. How does it work?”

“It’s a little like a combined Push/Pull,” Lucinda said. “Drusilla and Lucas discovered it when they opened a channel into that stone his grandfather gave him.”

“But you can talk to each other through it?”

“Violet says so, and she usually knows what she’s talking about.”

“Would have been handy to have when that idiot from Aphrodite kidnapped me,” Jayla said wryly.

“It sure would,” Lucinda agreed, remembering the panic that had ensued when Jayla disappeared on her way home from the last Harvest Festival.

“Would you like to stay for dinner? I think Jake should be home shortly.”

“Thanks, I will. I guess you can see I was feeling a little lonely when I got home; the apartment felt empty today,” she said ruefully.

When they arrived upstairs, the enticing smell of baked Ostamu wafted toward Lucinda. Ostamu were the large flightless birds bred by the Clans as a food source. “Umm, that smells good,” Lucinda said. “Hi Jake,” she said to Jayla’s new husband.

“Hey kid, how was your first day?” he asked, as he came over and kissed his wife hello. Shade, his Quirka, immediately bounced over to Ghost, joining in the greeting ritual. Unlike Ghost who was almost pure white, Shade was all shades of brown and grey.

“Tom was reporting to Uncle Max when I got there, so I brought him home for dinner,” he told his wife, indicating Tom Draycott, the Duc d’Orleans top investigator. Draycott was around Jake’s age, a little taller than Lucinda, with a hard-bodied, powerful build. He had dark brown hair and cynical brown eyes in a wedge-shaped face. A blaster scar ran across one cheek.

“And as you can see, I took him at his word,” Tom said. “I don’t live in the compound on Versailles Isle anymore, so I don’t get home cooking much.”

“As long as you don’t expect me to be the one who cooks it,” Jayla replied, laughing. “That is why we have Martha.”

“Jake said you were reporting to the Duc,” Lucinda remarked. “Can you tell us about the case?”

Draycott shrugged. “It isn’t a secret. Max thinks there is some smuggling going on. I spent the last five days working on the docks. If smuggling is going on, I didn’t find out who was doing it. I’ll move on to the spaceport workers next.”

“What if someone from the docks recognizes you?” Jayla asked.

He grinned at her. “I wore a disguise on the docks. My own mother wouldn’t have recognized me.”

“Do you always wear a disguise when you go undercover?” Lucinda asked.

“Most of the time. A couple of years ago I spent some time establishing some unsavory cover identities. They come in handy for undercover investigations.”

Lucinda was fascinated. “How many do you use on a single case?”

“As many as I need. Want to learn how to set one up?”

“Yes, I do. It sounds like a lot of fun.”

The four of them spent a pleasant evening talking over old times. When it turned nine o’clock, Lucinda noticed Jayla yawning.

“Guess I’d better let you get some sleep,” she told her cousin as she got up. “I forget not everyone is on the same schedule I am.”

“Me too,” Draycott agreed. “Why don’t I give you a ride? I’ve got my sled here.”

Lucinda collected a sleepy Agra who had snuggled into Shade and Ghost’s nest, tucking her inside her windbreaker before mounting behind Tom on his sled.

When he dropped her off, they arranged for him to stop by and give Lucinda the basics of creating a disguise.

Makee-Learnee

Unlike a few of the more technological oriented societies that made up the Confederated Worlds, the Clans of Vensoog preferred to teach their children a profession by having them apprentice under a more knowledgeable mentor. Lucinda spent most of her first month on the job on patrol and answering calls under Mira’s supervision.

“We switch shifts next week,” Mira told her after she had been on the job a month. “Starting tomorrow, we will trade areas with Sargent Murtaugh and his trainee. Philps, I think is his name.”

“Oh,” Lucinda said. She had begun to feel proprietary about the area near the docks and was surprised at her reluctance to switch. “What area do we get?” Lucinda asked her.

“We’ve got the spaceport. Sorry I know it’s going to disrupt your sleep cycle after you’ve just begun to settle in it, but we switch times too; They have Swing Shift. Things are slow right now,” Mira told her. “We need to take advantage of it to get you rookies as familiar with every part of the city that we can before the Harvest Festival starts and we get swamped with drunken tourists. During the Festivals, we get almost 100,000 extra tourists coming in to celebrate with us, plus the visiting merchants and Free Traders.”

The Planting and Harvest Festivals were held each Spring and Fall, and everyone who could get free usually tried to attend. During the festivals, some events like the Introductory Balls, where newly recognized adults received Match Lists, were only open to the Clans, but there was plenty of other entertainment for visitors. Port Recovery, because of the spaceport, was thrown wide open to off-planet visitors and merchants and the city took steps to entertain them royally. The Clans brought in native-made goods and Free Traders from all over the Confederation came to buy and sell their wares.

Lucinda rolled her eyes. “We can barely keep up now,” she protested. “How do we handle that many extra people?”

Mira shrugged. “A lot of us work double shifts; or extra half shifts. The Clans send a portion of their home security forces to help out as well.”

Dawn was breaking, and the sky had started to lighten when Lucinda heard the screaming.

“I think it’s coming from down by the boats,” she told Mira, and the pair took off running. Agra fluttered over Lucinda’s head, making excited noises. Even tiny Dactyls like Agra could fly faster than a human could run, but she kept by Lucinda as she had been taught.

Mira had turned on her headlamp and used it to look around. “PRS!” she shouted. “Where are you?”

It was still dark enough that the moored boats cast dark shadows on the wharf. Long plastacrete ramps extended out over the channel. Agra’s acute eyesight spotted something at the base of the farthest ramp, and she gave a shrill keen and dove toward it.

“Over here Mira!” Lucinda called.

When she arrived at the ramp, she found Agra hovering over the body of a woman. “Good girl,” she praised the Dactyl, who preened in response, perching herself on her mistress’s shoulder and looking down with interest. Dactyls were inherently curious, and part of the training she and Lucinda were given had included not touching a body without permission. Lucinda ran her Porta-tab over the body, scanning for life signs. She found none.

“She’s dead,” she reported looking up at Mira.

“Damn!” the other woman said. “Well, call in our sleds, and let’s get this crime scene sealed off. Then we should inspect the area around the body while we wait for the coroner to get here. Document anything you find that looks as if it doesn’t belong, but don’t move it.”

Their sleds arrived just as Mira finished calling in to report the body. Agra watched as Lucinda opened the side of her sled and pulled out the compressed privacy screens. Jamming one end into the ground near the ramp, she pulled on the loose end and made a wide circle around the body as the screens decompressed and grew to full size.

It was about a half hour before sunrise but they had drawn a few spectators from a nearby warehouse.

“Hey, what’s going on kid?” An older man with an air of authority asked.

“What is your name?” Lucinda asked him.

“I’m Jesse Sanders. I’m the supervisor over at Maclin enterprises,” he said, gesturing to the only lit-up warehouse in the area.

“I’m Officer Lucinda O’Teague,” Lucinda told him. “Did you or any of your workers see or hear any noises out here tonight?”

“I sure didn’t,” Sanders answered. “It’s pretty noisy inside though. We wouldn’t have noticed if Dori hadn’t stepped outside for some fresh air. She came running back in, screaming about dead people. Took me a while to calm her down. Do you want me to ask my men?”

“Thanks for the offer,” Mira answered him, “But I’m afraid we have to do it.”

“What happened?” he demanded again. “Dori ran into the warehouse yelling about dead bodies.”

“Yes, there has been a death. Would you mind going with Officer O’Teague to see if you recognize the body? In the meantime, I’ll need to start interviews with your people.”

“Uh—well, okay,” he said, reluctantly.

When he saw the state of the body, he turned green, and covered his mouth with his hand. Recognizing the signs, Lucinda hastily got him away from the immediate area around the body before he barfed, and held out an evidence bag for him to up-chunk into.

Handing him a wipe for his mouth, she waited until he had settled a bit before asking, “Do you know her?”

“No,” he said, swallowing. He looked around for somewhere to dispose of the wipe, and she held out the open evidence bag.

“Thanks,” he said. “It looked like she was wearing a ships uniform of some kind. What was left of it.”

“Did you recognize it? Do you know what ship?”

He shook his head and swallowed again. “Can we move further away? I can still smell–”

“Sure. Why don’t you come and sit down over here? The detectives may have more questions,” she suggested.

The detectives arrived at the same time as the coroner’s big sled.

Lucinda was glad to note that this time Gorsling wasn’t one of them. When she had been interning in the Coroners’ office, he had investigated the murder of Sara Lipski and there had been an unpleasant encounter, ending with Dr. Ivanov throwing him out of her lab.

“I’m Detective Jeness, and this is my partner, Detective Wilson. What do you have for us? It’s officer O’Teague, isn’t it?” The elder of the two, a tall, full-bodied woman with dark, curling grey hair asked.

“Yes,” Lucinda answered the first question. “This is Jesse Sanders. He’s the foreman in charge of the warehouse. One of his crew went out for a break, and came back in screaming about dead bodies, so he came out to investigate. My partner Mira and I heard the screams and were already on site by the time he came out.”

“How did you locate the body?” Wilson asked.

Lucinda smiled. “Agra did that. A dactyl’s smell and night vision are much better than a humans, you know.”

“Ummn,” Wilson looked Agra over speculatively. “Did she touch the body?”

“Of course not,” Lucinda said, offended on her pet’s behalf.

The Dactyl made the small snorting noise Lucinda knew meant she was irritated, and Lucinda reached up and stroked her soothingly. When the Coroner’s sled pulled up she was surprised to see Doctor Ivanov hop out. She turned to her with relief. “Hey, since when do you work the night shift?” she asked.

“Lucinda! It’s good to see you again.” The Coroner gave the girl a hug. The doctor was a short, dumpy little woman, the top of her head barely reaching Lucinda’s shoulder.

When Agra fluttered over to her, demanding her share of the attention, Dr. Ivanov laughed. “Yes, Agra it’s good to see you as well. Your new collar and badge look very good on you. Dr. Glassen called in sick,” she responded to Lucinda’s question. “One of his kids is running a fever and he’s quarantined his house until they figure out what it is. We’ve missed you in the lab. The cadet who replaced you isn’t nearly as good. How are you liking your first weeks on the job?”

“It’s been interesting,” Lucinda admitted.

“Do you need her for anything else?” Dr. Ivanov asked the detectives. “If not, she can come and help me with the body. I’m short-handed tonight.”

Wilson made a shooing motion with his hands. “By all means go with her officer.”

Lucinda followed her, and while the Doctor was checking time of death, she bagged the hands under Agra’s critical gaze.

“Humm,” Ivanov was talking to herself. Lucinda knew the spoken notes would be logged on her department recorder, and given for transcription to the hapless cadet who had taken her place in the lab.

“Female, lying face down, approximate age late twenties, with multiple lacerations on her upper torso. Clothes are partially shredded, looks like the remains of a ship’s uniform. DNA sample running through the Planetary database for ID. Mixed Race, thin, scan shows bones typical of someone who spends a lot of time off-planet. Death approximately four hours ago. Corpse is just going into rigor. Help me roll her Lucinda.”

They turned the body over. “Same lacerations on her front. Lacerations would have hurt, but none of them are deep enough to cause death,” Dr. Ivanov continued. “Death most likely was caused by the garrote around her neck. I’ll know more when I get her on my table. I see you bagged her hands. Good girl. You’re always thinking ahead. Get the body bag out of the sled, please.”

When she returned, Lucinda lowered a specially made lift, shaped in a rectangle with rounded edges and straps to hold the body bag. She helped Dr. Ivanov move the body into it. She fastened the straps to hold it in place and towed it behind her to the Doctor’s sled. Agra perched like a small gargoyle on top of the bag during the ride. Once inside the sled, she snapped the fasteners holding the lift in place.

“C’mon Agra, get off there. I need to turn on the stasis,” she told her pet, holding out a small treat. Spying the cookie, Agra flew off the bag and eagerly took it. “You did great tonight girl,” Lucinda crooned to her.

“You always talk to her like that?” inquired Wilson. “Like she’s a person?”

“She is a person,” Lucinda told him, her voice cool. “Not human so she can’t speak our language, but she understands it very well. She can pick up feelings from me, but my tone of voice reinforces it.”

“I’ve never worked with a Dactyl,” Wilson observed, “but I’ve worked with detectives who had Quirkas. They didn’t take to me, the Quirkas, I mean.”

“I see,” Lucinda nodded politely.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Wilson said. “Why is that?”

Lucinda hesitated, then said, “Quirkas and Dactyls read emotions the way a Dragon Talker does. They probably sensed that you don’t really like them.”

She was relieved when Dr. Ivanov returned to the sled with her kit. “Mira’s looking for you, Lucinda.”

“Thanks, Doctor Ivanov,” she said. “C’mon Agra. We need to get back to work.”

“Wilson giving you a hard time?” Mira asked when she returned.

“Not exactly; he had a lot of questions about Quirkas and Dactyls. Lab protocol says I couldn’t leave the body unattended until Doctor Ivanov got back to the sled anyway. Sorry, I didn’t get back sooner.”

Mira nodded understandably, “One of the penalties of being uniform, I’m afraid; everybody and his brother gives us orders. Now our next job is to try to get names and addresses from everyone in the crowd for the detectives.”

Lucinda had just about finished her share of this chore when she thought she recognized Tom’s familiar stance on one of the men watching the crowd. She was so surprised she stopped and stared,

Tom, if it was him, was wearing one of the disguises he’d told her about. The man in question had black, slicked back hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. He was also wearing a black skin-suit and high heeled black boots.

“Something the matter?” Mira asked, joining her.

Lucinda jumped in surprise. “Not really. I just thought I saw someone I knew over there. He’s gone now though.”

The Sun was well up by the time they finished getting ID information from the warehouse crew. Lucinda dictated her report into her com on the way back to headquarters. When they arrived, she read through it, initialed her DNA signature, made two copies, one for her personal file and one that she sent on to the detectives after Mira looked through it.

Agra had fallen asleep in her Dactyl seat when Lucinda drove into her storage area. Gently she pried the little creature out of it and carried her upstairs where she set her in her comfy sleep basket. Stripping off her uniform and Agra’s collar, she tossed them into the clothing recycler before slipping into a loose shirt and shorts. She tumbled into bed already half asleep.

She had set her alarm to wake up a little early, so she was up, dressed and enjoying a second cup of Cafka while Agra sulked over her breakfast of chopped nuts, fruit and fish flake, when Tom knocked on the door.

“Let him in,” she told the House Comp getting another cup out of the cupboard.

“Cafka?” She asked, holding up the cup.

“I’d love some,” he told her. “I’ve been up all night. Good morning, girl,” he said to Agra, who ignored him. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s missing Saura, her littermate,” Lucinda explained. “Saura went out to Kitingzen with Juliette.”

“Do you have sweetener?” He asked. “I need the boost.”

“Well at least you’ve taken off that lounge lizard disguise,” Lucinda remarked, handing him the sugar bowl.

“You didrecognize me. I thought you might have. What gave me away?”

She lifted her shoulders. “It was a good disguise, but I recognized the way you stand. You always stand like you’re ready for a fight.”

He stared at her, and slowly sat down in a chair. “I fooled both the Duc and Jake with that one once. You’re going to make a damn good cop someday.”

“Thanks,” Lucinda felt her face blushing. “I bet you haven’t had anything to eat either, have you? I’ll dial up one of Martha’s specialties.”

He caught her hand and kissed it. “Bless you, I’m starving.”

Lucinda watched, amused as Tom inhaled her food. “Don’t think you are going to get away without telling me why you were there,” she said. “I’m assuming this is a part of your investigation. How is that going by the way?”

He poured another cup of Cafka and sipped it before he answered. “Not as well as I hoped,” he admitted. “Did you identify her?”

“Not yet, but the Doc thinks she spent a lot of time in a ship and not on-planet. Why?”

He sighed. “If she is who I think she is, she was my first real lead in this case.”

She frowned at him. “What kind of information? Is the Duc running one of his private investigations again?”

“Him and the rest of the Security Council. After Jayla’s kidnapping, they decided they needed to do something about Thieves Guild activities in Clan territories. Max has several other operatives besides me working on this. All we’ve found out so far is that something worth big credits is being brought in and smuggled onto Free Traders here in port.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Not a clue,” he said in disgust. “Jora was my first real lead. She was supposed to give me the names of the ships and captains who are a part of it.”

“Jora? You know her name?”

“Jora Loman off the Free Trader Saucy Suzie. She went into the Guild as a young girl and she wants—wanted out. The Council agreed to help her, give her a new identity and stuff.”

“Does Port Recovery Security know the Council is poking it’s nose into this?”

He shook his head. “Nope, and we’d prefer it not be spread around. We think we cleaned out all the cops on the Local Mob’s payroll, but we can’t be sure.”

“But Tom,” she protested, ” Her folks need to be notified; I need to tell them who she is at least.”

“Can’t you just say it was a rumor?”

She frowned thoughtfully. “I suppose I could say I heard about a missing crewman off that particular ship.”

By this time Agra had imbibed enough Cafka to recover from her sulks and fluttered over to Tom’s shoulder and nuzzled his ear.

“Oh, so now you’re talking to me?” he asked the Dactyl.

“She likes you for some reason,” Lucinda said. “Usually she’s a little more standoffish.”

He handed Agra a wedge of fruit he hadn’t eaten, and she gobbled the wedge of melon with delicate greed. “That’s because she knows she can bum food, isn’t it, cutie?”

The fruit Tom gave her had been very juicy. Since Dactyls were not nearly as fastidious as Quirka’s, Agra had managed to smear it liberally all over her face. She transferred the stickiness to Tom by nudging his jaw with her messy nose when she finished.

He got up and put his dishes in the recycler, wiping his face with his napkin.

“Thanks again for breakfast,” he said. “Do you think you could let me know if it turns out it is Jora?”

“I suppose,” she answered.

 

THE HANDFASTING SERIES (books 1 — 5) WILL BE ON SALE UNTIL OCT 1, 2019
or WHILE COPIES LAST. (Titles Included: A Year & A Day, Forever & A Day, All Our Tomorrows, From This Day Forward, and To Love & Honor)

SERIES WILL BE RETIRED ON OCTOBER 1, 2019

THERE ARE A LIMITED NUMBER OF BOOKS STILL AVAILABLE SO DON’T WAIT!

As an author I hate to say this but being able to write a great story doesn’t always mean that story will sell. My Handfasting series, although it is selling, isn’t getting the kind of response the quality of the books merit. I consulted some publishing experts and they informed me that although the stories are great, the titles are sending mixed messages. It was recommended that I target only one of the genres: Science Fiction by changing the titles of the books and the series to appeal to science fiction readers (the genre in which the books belong). In order to prevent confusion to my readers, on October 1, I will be discontinuing the Handfasting Series. In November, I will be repackaging all the books under a new Series title: Space Colony Journals, and each book has been given a title designed to appeal to readers of science fiction. The new series will come out on October 31stin time to join the 6thbook about the O’Teague Clan: Alien Trails.

In order to clear my inventory, I am putting the Handfasting series on sale at discounted prices. All books in the series are discounted. e-books are .99¢. However, because of some distributers differing price requirements, the Paperback book discount prices will start at $8.59 but may be higher depending on which site you choose to buy from.

Links:

E-Books: https://books2read.com/ap/n41KK8/Gail-Daley

or

Gail’s web site: http://www.gaildaleysfineart.com/book-buyers.php

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/author/gaildaley

 

Excerpt: Options of Survival

 

A Year & A Day

Spring 250 A.C. (After Colonization)

Clan Meeting – Glass Castle

THE EXECUTIVE ruling body of Clan O’Teague occupied the council chamber of the Clan’s main seat, known as the Glass Castle, on the Southern coast of Glass Isle in the Dragon Sea. There should have been four women and two men, but the two male members had joined the military forces drafted by the Confederation and killed in action on a distant planet. Their heirs were both too young to serve, and no one had yet been elected to take their places.

Lady Genevieve, the Laird of Clan O’Teague was young for the office. She was in her early thirties, with fiery red hair, large almond shaped grey eyes and a tall, slim build. Despite her age and appearance, during the attack Genevieve had showed both the leadership and strength required to be the Laird.

It could be seen by their coloring that the women seated around the table were related. The three varied in age from sixteen to around forty-five. Lady Corinne was the oldest of the three, and her red hair was showing white amid the auburn. Her short, clipped nails drummed a tattoo on the table as she considered the solution her First Daughter, Lady Katherine, was proposing. Lady Corinne was Katherine’s aunt, and as the designated heir to her property, Katherine had taken her place as the Clan Representative on the National Parliament when Corinne retired to pursue her interest in writing a planetary history. Katherine’s hair was not so fiery a color as Genevieve’s and her eyes had more green than grey, but she shared the same slim build although she was shorter than her sister. Sixteen-year-old Lady Drusilla had only just taken her seat on the Decision-making Council and she was clearly uncomfortable with her new duties. Her pixie cut hair, a much darker red than either of her sisters, gleamed dully in the muted light from the crystal powered wall sconces, and her eyes were so dark a grey they almost appeared black. Drusilla was tiny; she was half a head shorter than Katherine and only came up to Genevieve’s shoulders. She cuddled her agitated Quirka and glanced nervously from one sister to the other.

The four women were attended by Quirkas, the small native pets adopted by most of the settlers. Quirkas most closely resembled an Old Earth Squirrel with the pricked ears and pointed muzzle of a fox; they were furred, with a large bushy tail and front paws that looked like human hands. Soft flexible quills that could be ejected for defense ran along the backbone up to the top of the head. When attacked the quills would stiffen, and sharp, acid-tipped retractable barbs appeared. The poison couldn’t kill anything as large as a human, but it could make one sick. Quirkas were chameleons; their body colors could change with their environment, but their natural color seemed to be a soft mottled yellow. They were empathic and developed life-long friendships with some humans. Their small size (about the size of a human hand) made them ideal house pets and vermin hunters. They mostly hunted the variety of small rodents and insects prone to infest homes and businesses.

“You’re going to put the cat-fox in the hen house with this one girl,” Corinne remarked with just a hint of a laugh. “I think I’ll come to the next Parliament just to watch the fur fly!”

“I think it’s a horrible idea,” Drusilla announced. “It’s so cold, letting a—a—program pick your husband! What about love? Don’t you want that?”

“I know it sounds cold, Honey,” Katherine said. “And yes, I want my husband to love me just as much as I want to love him, but this solves our problem. If we don’t do something, this planet will be unpopulated in just three generations. If we want to preserve our way of life, we need fresh DNA sources. What works in our favor is there will be many male soldiers left homeless because their worlds were burnt off in the War. We have to make difficult decisions—”

“Don’t make a campaign speech for Heaven’s sake!” Genevieve protested. “I agree we have to do something, and this sounds like a practicable solution, providing the issues I see can be worked out.”

“What issues?” Drusilla finally found her voice.

“The most important one is that we are inviting grown men to become a part of our culture. Adult males who won’t have been raised with our traditions. Issue two is these will be men who are used to fighting and may not readily accept our traditions—”

“That’s why you’ve been working on that old emigration selection program,” began Corinne.

“A program! For what, pray tell? Please don’t say you’re talking about that crap the Makers use to set up marriage matches?” demanded Genevieve. Her Quirka chittered anxiously and she stroked her back, growing visibly calmer as she did so.

Katherine put two fingers in her mouth and gave a loud whistle. “Time!”

Everyone turned to look at her. “If I could be allowed to finish? As far as your first two objections go, yes, there is still a program for selecting emigrants. We haven’t used it since the first ships, but I do have a copy. The program analyzed genetic data and personality traits to weed out anyone unsuitable for our culture. We use a part of it in our Matchmaking system. Once we received the results of the bio-weapon used on us, I realized what would need to be done. I have spent the last year working on combining the two programs and I plan to offer them to any clan that wants them. Who knows Genevieve? Since I did make improvements to give more weight to personal compatibility, maybe we’ll get lucky and our dream man will be waiting for us on Fenris.”

Katherine smiled reassuringly at her younger sister. “It isn’t really that much different than the match lists given out by the Makers when we turn of age you know, and we already do that during the Spring and Fall Festivals each year. The couples just won’t have met each other beforehand. I think we can sell it to our young women if we put it out to them as being romantic instead of a cold business proposition.”

Genevieve pointed a finger at her sister. “All right Politician, write this up in a speech I can present to the Clan for acceptance.”

Drusilla hadn’t given up. “Why would any of these ex-military types come here? And where will you find them?” Drusilla asked.

“They’ll come because we will offer them a home to come back to. We were hit with a bio weapon but our world is still intact. Many planets weren’t so fortunate. Soldiers from those planets will need to find a new home. As to where they can be found, I intend to present this plan for accepting immigrants to the base commander on Fenris. Fenris was the staging area where most of the troop ships from this area departed. I’m sure he will cooperate in presenting our proposal, because he will appreciate that he can get rid of some loose cannons by sending them home with us. You see Fenris is where they are going to turn loose most of the military units who no longer have a planet to return to. Even if the base commander is reluctant, the planetary government won’t be. Housing thousands of ex-soldiers and finding work for them if they stay on Fenris will mean a big drain on planetary resources.”

“You will need money to operate. We used to do a lot of trade with Fenris,” Corinne said thoughtfully. “Might be a good idea to take along some trade goods to build up capital and rebuild relations. I think I’ll go with you.”

Genevieve jumped to her feet. “Go with her? Then who will sit in Parliament?”

“You are,” Katherine retorted.

“You are talking at least six weeks to get there and the same to get back! Not including the time spent on the planet setting this up. I can’t be away from our lands that long.”

“Sure you can. Parliament only sits three times a year. You name Drusilla as your deputy—”

“Me!” squeaked Drusilla.

“Yes, you,” Katherine replied. “Genevieve will be reachable for advice by message crystal. It has to be you in Parliament Genevieve. Drusilla is too inexperienced to deal with that den of vixens.”

Genevieve sat back down heavily. “Oh, God. I hate politics!”

Katherine nodded briskly. “Now here is what I propose we offer our new Handfasting partners; full clan rights, that is they can hold property for any daughters until the daughter reaches majority. If no daughter is born, they will have lifetime privileges on the property they occupy. Sons will automatically be full clan members; the women those sons marry will become holders. We will guarantee pension and dowry rights if they marry into another clan after the Handfasting period. Because we need to develop a viable population base as soon as possible, I would prefer to approach a unit from the same area; I think it will be easier to integrate them into the clan as a group. That way if there are older men in the group who don’t find a match or unit members who don’t want to be matched, they would receive the same benefits as those who do, and they would be available to supply sperm for the planetary banks. The other Clans will design their appeal as they see fit. The only thing I plan to bring up before the Parliament next week is that the program is available and that we intend to offer the Year and A Day Handfasting to these men.”

“What if your matching programs works so well the couples want to change the Handfasting to the Forever and A Day?” inquired Corinne.

“Then that will be up to each couple,” Katherine said firmly. “Not our business.”

Drusilla took a deep breath and then asked, “Okay, but what are we going to tell them about us?”

Her sisters and aunt just looked at her. “What are you talking about?” Genevieve asked.

“You know well what I’m talking about,” Drusilla said doggedly.

“I don’t see why that would be an issue,” Katherine said. “There have been rumors about Vensoog people and our ‘special abilities’ for years. It has always been up to each person what or how much she or he wants to tell spouses who come from off planet.”

“Most visitors to Vensoog conclude that some of us have psychic abilities and let it go at that,” Corrine reminded her.

“She has a point,” Genevieve observed. “These men won’t be visitors. They will live here with us. Sooner or later they’re bound to get our talents rubbed in their face. You will have to be careful not to let any religious fanatics who might want to burn witches past your screening.”

“Are you seriously suggesting I go to Fenris and invite battle hardened troops to come back with me to marry a witch?” inquired Katherine. “That is not the approach I plan to make and I doubt I will be alone in that. Can you see Clan Yang or Clan Caldwalder or DeMedici doing that?”

“Are you going to lie if they ask you about it?” Drusilla insisted.

Katherine sighed. Sometimes her little sister reminded her of a Quirka at a vermin hole. “No. While I won’t advertise our abilities, if I am asked directly I will tell them the truth. However, since time will be so short before we leave for home, our new clan members will need to do a lot of sleep learning to familiarize themselves with our customs and the dangers of the planet itself. I included acceptance of our ways into the subliminal programs about the planet, so I hope the issue won’t arise.”

Once assured that Katherine and Genevieve would be in the list of marriageable women to be handfasted, about a hundred unmarried women of Clan O’Teague between the ages of twenty and thirty-five volunteered for the plan and started to enter the answers to questions that would determine personality compatibilities for matchmaking into Katherine’s database.

Since no better solution could be found, the Vensoog Parliament adopted Katherine’s proposal. Several of the Clans were adamant about making their own decisions for dealing with the immigrants, but they all accepted Katherine’s computer matching program. It was finally agreed that each of the Clans would send their own representative to Fenris and the other planets hosting displaced Terrans.

Katherine, Corrine and delegates from DeMedici and Yang took ship for the planet Fenris on a recently decommissioned freighter. Now that the war had ended, spaceships and crews commandeered from civilian sources were being returned to their original owners. The Spaceman’s Dream had been a free trader and was glad to take on cargo and passengers in return for a percentage of the profit on the sale of the luxury goods stored on Vensoog for the duration of the war. Only three of the clans decided to approach the homeless soldiers on neighboring Fenris. Of the others, four would reach out to civilian refugees on the planets of N’Jamacia and Camelot, and the remaining three had agreed to take new applications from the Federated Worlds immigration services.

Making A Proposition

Planet Fenris A Month Later

 

Once the decision to use Katherine’s program was started, they lost no time. Clan representatives from O’Teague, Yang and DeMedici arrived on Fenris. The next day they met the base commandant, Admiral Noel Harris, who had been handed the unrewarding job of finding placements for thousands of returning soldiers whose planets had been burned off.

Fenris had set up re-location depots for the returning soldiers in the old military bases where combat ready warriors had departed for the war. A base met all the basic needs of anyone who stayed there; food dispensers and housing, which although utilitarian were clean and functional. The planetary government planned to convert these bases into low-level hostelries to attract tourists as soon as they could rid themselves of all the returning ex-military. Some of the Clan leaders preferred to stay in the resort hotels for which Fenris had once been famous. However, Katherine and Corrine had taken up residence in the main base so they could have easy access to the bases’ computers, which were an essential part of Katherine’s plan. She would need to set up her program to accept the chosen men’s information so it could match them with the Vensoog women.

Clan O’Teague had decided it would be best to find a unit or two willing to re-locate and met their requirements. Today Katherine would start her interviews with the officers in command of the various groups who had asked about finding a new home as a unit.

“Are you ready for this?” Corrine inquired.

Katherine blew out a breath. “I have to be, don’t I?” She treasured a private hope that among the soldiers she would find the soul mate she had almost given up hope of finding. Now that the end was in sight, she was a bundle of nerves.

For maximum impact, she had dressed carefully in the full outfit a Clan Lady of Vensoog would wear for an important meeting. A semi-transparent loose linen blouse and pants in bright colors, topped with a tight-fitting leather vest rounded to cup her full breasts and cinched at the waist with bright colored ribbons. The long sleeves and pant cuffs were gathered at the wrist and ankles. Her low-heeled shoes were meshed on top with crisscross ties running up the outside of her calves and tied off under the knees. A tall, flat crowned, wide-brimmed hat with a veil that could be brought down to cover her face completed the outfit. Although normally she would have taken the hat off indoors, she wore it now for the full impact. Sooka, her pet Quirka, leaped to her shoulder and clung to the straps on the padded shoulders of the vest. Katherine reached up and stroked her absently.

Corrine studied her and then made a twirling motion with her finger. Obediently, Katherine turned in a circle so Corrine could see the full effect.

“Well?” she asked impatiently.

Corrine chuckled, “Oh, Honey, they’re sure not going to have any trouble deciding marriage would be no hardship with you.”

Katherine frowned. “Too much?” she asked.

Corrine shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Remember we are asking them to make quite a few concessions about their way of life. They need a place to go, but it may be hard for them to discount the rumors about Vensoog women and to change how they view their rights under our laws. They need to see an attractive package to make that change more palatable.”

Katherine grimaced. “Especially when I inform them about the re-education and sleep learning you mean?”

By noon, Katherine had interviewed five Majors and one Colonel and she was thinking she would not find what she was looking for here. As yet, she had only one possibility, and that one was doubtful. She had yet to explain the full program to any of the potential candidates because her little inner voice kept saying “no”.

Smiling graciously at Colonel Tomas Lewiston, she thanked him for his interest in the proposal and sent him on his way. She couldn’t put a name to her reluctance, but she had absolutely no intention of considering him or any unit he commanded. On the surface, he was an impressive enough specimen. He was tall, with almost perfectly chiseled features, he had a well-built body, and a decided air of command. He also had a smooth manner verging on oily she found put her on edge. If she hadn’t had the underlying feeling he had another agenda, she might have given him more consideration. Besides, Sooka, whose judgment of character was usually excellent, had hissed at him and he couldn’t quite conceal his distaste of her pet.

Katherine was using one of the auxiliary conference rooms on the base. After he left, she rose and went to the wall of windows looking out over the city. The view was spectacular. To the left was a magnificent view of high snow-capped peaks, the tall spires of the city and a white strip of beach next to an azure ocean. The beach was sparsely populated compared to the thousands of tourists who had clustered there before the war made interplanetary travel dangerous. The empty beach was testament to Fenris’ urgency in getting their planet back to becoming a “destination” for tourists.

Fenris was named before explorers had set foot there and discovered how inappropriate it was to name the planet after the devouring wolf of Ragganok. The name didn’t call up an image of pristine, snow-capped peaks excellent for winter sports, bucolic countryside ideal for gentle activities or the white-sandy beaches with just enough waves for surfing or sport fishing. Fenris was woefully short of heavy metals, but the Fenriki had quickly overcome this disadvantage by developing the world into a vacation destination for the rich and famous of the Confederated Worlds. Fenris’ strategic location made it an ideal staging area for the military to collect and send out their forces for the war. Now that the war was over, The Fenriki were scrambling to return their world to its old status as the foremost resort planet and trade center in the depleted Confederated Worlds.

Katherine took a deep breath and set up for the next interview. Some of the commanding officers Katherine had interviewed had come alone, some with support personnel. It was obvious the three men who entered this time were a unit, and a military one at that. There was only a superficial physical resemblance between them; the oldest was tall and wide, with a pleasant face topped with a shock of blond hair streaked with white. In fact, Master Sgt. Vernel Thomas resembled a kindly grandfather until you met his eyes directly and saw inside to the tough soldier he really was. Colonel Gideon Michaels was shorter than Thomas but his smooth-shaven, square-jawed face held strength and determination. Although his loose civilian clothing helped to disguise the real muscle in his lanky body, it didn’t hide the smooth power with which he moved. His tanned face was in sharp contrast to his keen green eyes and pale blond hair and eyebrows set over a jutting beak of a nose. Lieutenant Zachary Jackson was around medium height and his brown eyes were on a level with Katharine’s. He had the wiry, powerful build of a trained hand-to-hand warrior built for speed and maneuverability rather than bulk. His smooth olive complexion and thick shock of brown hair was worn a little long and showed his Black Irish Old Earth ancestry. He too moved with the effortless ease of a man used to physical activity. What marked the three men as a unit was a similarity of expression and attitude. These men were used to depending on each other.

Katherine’s intuition, had given out a constant litany of No, or Never! at the other candidates. It suddenly shouted Yes! at her when she met Zackery Jackson’s eyes. She looked them over more carefully.

All three men bowed as they entered.

Colonel Michaels said politely, “How do you do Lady Katherine. I am Colonel Gideon Michaels, of the 10th Infantry volunteers, Planet Moodon. This is my 2nd Officer, Lieutenant Zachary Jackson and my leading Master Sargent Vernel Thomas.”

The window behind Katherine had put her face in shadow, but it gave her an excellent view of the three men’s expressions as they got their first good look at her. Stunned relief would have been appropriate. She smiled a little to herself. Corrine had been correct; the over-the-top outfit had been worth it. Rumors of why the delegation from Vensoog had arrived were already rife, and by this time Katherine had endured some less than respectful attitudes from some of the men she had interviewed. This was the first group who had used her title without being prompted. She detected none of the leering postures caused by her “husband hunting” displayed by some of the previous candidates.

“Please be seated gentleman,” she pointed to the chairs opposite her. “Allow me to present my condolences on the loss of your homeworld.”

“Thank you,” Michaels responded. “We offer our condolences on your losses as well, Mi’Lady.”

Just then, Sooka, who had quietly gone unnoticed by most of the other candidates, hopped off Katherine’s shoulder and bounced over to Lieutenant Jackson, springing up onto the arm of his chair. Startled, he jumped. “Well, now, who are you?” he inquired, with just the right note of amusement to please Katherine.

“That is Sooka,” Katherine replied. “She is a Quirka. Many of us keep them as companions. They are empathic. Apparently, she approves of you. You can pet her as long as you stroke downward on her fur.”

“Why she’s changing color!” exclaimed Vernal.

“Yes, they have chameleon-like qualities,” Katherine replied.

“You brought a pet along on an interstellar trip?” asked Zack incredulously.

“It was necessary,” Katherine responded. “She is not exactly a pet. A Quirka’s empathic attachment to their chosen human is very deep. A separation of so many months would have caused her to go into a depression and she would have starved herself to death in my absence. She was no real trouble on the journey; Quirkas are omnivores and with a box of sand in my quarters as a toilet, all I had to do was order the appropriate food from the dispenser.”

She watched Sooka carefully as the small creature leaped from one man to the other investigating each one carefully before returning to Zack’s lap.

“So tell me Colonel, what are your plans for the future?” she asked.

Gideon looked up from watching Zack play with Sooka. “Most of the men in my command are from Moodon, like me. As you know, Moodon was burned off by the enemy. I would like for us to find a new homeworld where we could all settle together.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, most of my unit entered the service as a group and we’ve served together so long we have become each other’s family. If we hadn’t been together when we heard Moodon was destroyed, I don’t think some of us would have made it.”

“How do you feel about taking orders from women?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see a problem. On Moodon we considered men and women to be equals; women as well as men give orders.”

Katherine turned to Vernel. “And you, sir, how do you feel about that?”

“I do my job. I take my orders and carry them out. Doesn’t make me any nevermind who gives them. I’m not a leader.”

“Lieutenant Jackson?” she asked.

Zack rubbed his nose. “Everyone has a different idea of how folks should behave.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t good enough. I require a full answer. On Vensoog, our men only hold property through their wives and daughters and they can’t hold an office except as a deputy for a wife or daughter. How do you feel about that?”

“To answer that question properly, I would need to see the text of the law so I can determine how fair it is,” he replied.

“That,” replied Katherine, rather pleased, “is a very good answer. I would have been disappointed if all of you had given me a flat yes. It would have shown duplicity.”

“Are you saying we would be second class citizens?” Michaels asked, “Because that is not something I find acceptable.”

“Not at all; you and your men would be full members of the Clan O’Teague. Traditionally most of our law enforcement and defensive offices have been held by men, but due to the war most of these offices are held by women, however Clan leadership, property and inheritance are held in the female line.”

Michaels nodded. “Okay, I think we all need to see the actual terms of the bargain you want us to agree to before we go any further.”

“I agree,” Katherine said. “But perhaps you would like to provide me with a text of what you desire for your new homeland, that way when we meet tomorrow, we can see if we want to take this any further?”

She stood and took three data crystals from her belt pouch and handed them to each man. “Here is the contract you and your men would be required to sign to become members of Clan O’Teague, and a text of our laws and privileges. May I hope you will send me your requirements by this afternoon?”

All three men had risen when she did. “I brought that information with me,” Michaels replied and offered her a data crystal in return.

Katherine took it, smiling. “I like a man who comes prepared,” she remarked. “Why don’t we agree to meet over lunch in the canteen tomorrow for further discussion? You can meet my chaperone and mentor, Lady Corrine then.”

The next day at noon, Corrine and Katherine programmed their meals in the robo-chef on the side of the canteen away from the windows and then took their food trays to an unoccupied round table in an alcove. They were joined a few minutes later by the three men. The canteen was in a bulky plastacrete building designed to feed large groups of people. It had privacy alcoves with large windows for officers and others who needed to discuss matters they didn’t wish broadcast wholesale. The portable chairs and tables could have (and had) served ten thousand diners at a sitting. Now it appeared to be only about a third full.

All three men were taken aback to realize the Quirka were apparently dining with them. Katherine and Corrine had provided small bowls of finely chopped raw meats and vegetables for each pet and a small finger bowl of water. The two Quirkas perched on their haunches on the table beside the women and waited patiently for the meal to begin. Unselfconsciously, Corrine bowed her head and said a quick Grace. There was a trifle awkwardness in the beginning of the shared meal, but Corrine and Vernal soon provided an opening for normal table conversation.

“Lady Katherine said you keep these Quirkas as companions?” Vernel pointed with his chin at the two Quirkas.

“Oh, yes,” Corrine replied, “but they are avid hunters of household vermin, and in fact prefer to hunt live prey. They are quite valued for their ability to keep homes and other buildings clear of pests.”

The rest of the dinner conversation concerned the animals and plants native to Vensoog. At the end of the meal, Vernal smiled in delight when the Quirka fastidiously washed their paws and muzzles in the fingerbowls.

Once the dishes had been removed and sent to the recycler, Katherine raised the subject that had been foremost on all their minds.

“I looked over your requests for accommodation, and I see no issues we would have difficulty filling.” She began, “as long as those of your unit who don’t wish to be a part of the matchmaking program are comfortable in providing sperm or ova for the DNA banks, they would receive the same full Clan rights as those who are handfasted.”

“From my viewing of the data you provided, I noticed you required everyone to take part in the compatibility testing even if they aren’t planning on being matched. Why is that?” inquired Zack.

“We use compatibility and personality evaluations extensively on Vensoog to determine choices for training and professions. Having your unit evaluated will help to place them in a profession they are best suited for. The evaluations help to bring to notice issues that might require counseling or re-training. This will be a difficult undertaking for us all. I want to catch any problem areas early before they grow.”

“If a problem shows up on someone’s evaluation would that be cause for not accepting them as an immigrant? Some of our men suffered extreme losses, and a few have PTSD issues and won’t show up as ‘normal’ on evaluations,” Thomas stated.

Corrine reached across the table and patted his hand. “Vernal, that issue isn’t what the evaluations are designed to weed out. It flags traits that would lead to pathological criminal behavior; you know serial killers, child molesters, and stuff like that. I’m sure none of your men have personas with those markers.”

“Soldiers are trained to kill,” Gideon pointed out.

“Yes, but there is a difference between someone who has been trained to kill for a reason and those who just do it for their own gratification. The personality markers do look quite different. If I find anyone who shows up with those markers, you may speak for them and we will then decide. Will that be sufficient?” Katherine asked.

“Well there is one more thing that puzzles me, why are we all being required to do sleep learning about the planet? Soldiers are trained to learn to survive in different environments quickly with no extra crutches like sleep learning.”

Katherine responded, “With all due respect Zack, we are attempting to integrate your men into our society smoothly and quickly. When you were dropped on strange planets to fight, you weren’t learning to adapt to a new set of laws and customs and at the same time learning to recognize dangerous plants and animals. It’s a lot to take on at once and we will only have about three months from the time I run the program until we arrive. I hope to have all the data entered so everyone who wants a spouse will know who their Handfasting partner will be before we take ship.”

“Are you part of the program?” Zack inquired.

“Yes. My sister Drusilla is too young for Handfasting; she is only sixteen, but both our Laird Genevieve and I have entered our data for Handfasting,” she responded. “My sisters and I feel it is important to show we believe in this program by taking part fully.”

The three men exchanged looks, and finally Zack and Vernel nodded to Gideon who said, “If it is acceptable to you M’lady, we will bring this to our men and have an answer for you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Gentlemen. I hope you will join us for breakfast with good news.” Katherine watched as the three left the canteen.

She looked over at her aunt. “Why do I feel as if I just stepped off the Glass Cliffs?”

“Cause we have,” retorted Corrine. Absently she ran a finger down her Quirka’s head. Divit responded by lifting up to meet her finger. “I’m pretty favorably impressed by those three. I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting, but if they indicate the quality of the new clan members we’ll be getting, this will work. You did good, girl.”

Katherine grimaced. “I wish I could say that about my trip to the orphanage. They have unclaimed children, but don’t seem to want them to be adopted. And something smelled off, you know? Juliette, one of the children I met seemed to be afraid, and she tried to tell me something bad was going down but we were interrupted before I could find out what. I managed to find out the Administrator’s schedule while I was there, so I think I’ll make a return trip when he is out of the office.”

“Humm,” Corrine considered. “Well, just be careful. On a brighter note, I contacted Captain Heidelberg of the Dancing Gryphon. You may remember him; his family runs a free trade line out of N’Jamacia. His ship was commandeered as a troop transport during the war, but he is getting it back as soon as the military removes the weapons, and he is anxious to resume trade. He agreed to give us transport home at a reduced rate in return for a favorable trade contract with the Clan to supply power stones and Dragon Nest silks for the next five years.”

“And long term? What will he be bringing to trade for those items?”

Corrine shrugged a shoulder. “He has seeds, tools, techy items like computer quartz grinders, all kinds of stuff. The real profit is he agreed to give Clan O’Teague first crack at any items he brings in for trade for the next five years.”

Katherine looked in awe at her aunt. “Wow. How did you manage that?” She eyed Corrine suspiciously. “I remember Heidelberg as being a tough customer at the trade table. You didn’t pushto get him to agree, did you?”

“Of course not,” Corrine retorted. “He knows too much about Vensoog for me to try something like that with him. Besides, I didn’t need to. I did a little research on the way here and discovered that N’Jamacia suffered from a lack of trade during the Wars. Remember, they export mostly luxury and high-tech goods. The military commandeered or paid low-ball prices for the tech stuff during the Wars, and since most of the trade ships were converted to troop transports, the luxury goods sat in the warehouses. They need us.”

Sunrise on Fenris was certainly beautiful, Katherine reflected. Several days had passed since she had accepted Gideon’s unit for the program. The unit was busy entering and playing the shooter/treasure hunter game she provided. The game was an essential part of the program because it recorded each player’s reactions and decision making responses and integrated them into the personality profiles.

She and Sooka had cleared out of the apartment given to them by base command because Corrine was a late sleeper and complained they woke her moving around, no matter how quiet they tried to be. Since she and Sooka virtually had the dining hall to themselves this early, they had commandeered a table in an alcove that gave a view of the city and the pristine beaches. The rising sun turned the unspoiled beach to a ribbon of white edged by sparkling aqua waters. It made the multi-colored city buildings look as if they had been stained by a child’s bright crayon.

“May I join you?”

She looked up to smile at Zack. He was an early riser as well apparently, and had started joining them for breakfast.

She made a welcoming gesture to the chair opposite. “Of course.”

“Well, that’s a relief. After you turned down my dinner invitation last night—”

“Well, breakfast is much more informal and less likely to cause talk.”

He cocked his head at her. “Why are you worried about causing talk?”

“Lieutenant—how shall I say this? When we arrive on Vensoog, you will be handfasted with someone and so will I. This program is very important to my people; I need to show I believe it will work to convince them to try it. I would prefer there be no gossip about our relationship on Fenris if we are matched with other people when we arrive home. It will make everything much smoother.”

“I see. But breakfast is okay? How about lunch? I’m not giving up, you know.”

Katherine smiled in spite of herself. “Breakfast is fine. At lunch, we probably will have the others joining us.” She was surprised to find herself a little flustered by the obvious masculine approval she read in Zack’s eyes. When the war had started, she had been too young for any serious relationships, and later when she was old enough, most of the young men who would have courted her were off planet.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Zack remarked, nodding to the view out the windows.

“Oh, yes. It almost reminds me of home, except this doesn’t look quite real.”

Just then, Zack’s com chimed softly. He frowned at the telltale on the indicator and said, “I’m sorry, I have to take this,” and invoked the privacy mode. A shielding cocoon formed around him, making it impossible to see or hear to whom he was talking.

Katherine looked over at Sooka, industriously finishing a large helping of breakfast. The Quirka seemed to sparkle in the sunlight that was edging in the window. Katherine sniffed experimentally and immediately noticed a faint musky odor.

“Uh-Oh,” she grimaced. “It does come inconveniently for us girls doesn’t it Sweetie? I hope you and Divit like each other because I’m afraid you won’t have much choice when the time comes.”

Sooka made a whuffling noise as if she agreed. Katherine was never sure how much the little creature actually understood of her conversation. They were empathic but not telepathic. Quirka’s rarely made permanent bonds with their choice when mating unless their human partners were involved. However, both sexes cared equally for the pups until they were old enough to bond with a human.

Zack finished his conversation and shut down the privacy cone, but he continued to scowl fiercely and drummed his fingers on the table.

“Is something the matter My Lord?” Katherine automatically gave him the courtesy title he would be accorded on Vensoog.

“What? No. Yes, by the Void, there is. In the last battle, my best friend, Timon was killed. He died saving my life. He left behind two boys, twins, here on Fenris. Their mother is dead, and I promised him I would take care of them. I’ve been trying to gain custody, but I am running into roadblocks put up by the Placement Center. I just heard back from the Child Placement Center where they sent them. Now they’re claiming that another relative has come forward to demand custody of them. Damnit, Timon didn’t have any relatives! That’s why he asked me to take his boys.”

“Are you certain he didn’t have any relatives? What about the mother?”

Zack made a rude noise. “The mother’s dead. Some wasting disease I think. She only had one sister, and she was killed a few months before the war ended and no grandparents. That’s why the boys ended up in that Center. Timom was raised by the State.”

“Humnn. What is the name of the relative that came forward?”

“Jerrod van Doyle.”

Katherine looked sharply at him. “Are you sure that’s the name?”

“Yes, why?”

“Because I do think you have a problem. I had reason to check out the name of Jerrod van Doyle regarding three other children at that Placement Center I tried to adopt. He’s listed as their next of kin too. Juliette, one of the girls, told me she is afraid of him so I checked with a friend in the interplanetary police and I discovered he’s on a watch list for trafficking in children.”

Something cold rose up and died behind his eyes. “Well, he’s not getting Timons boys.”

“No. I agree with you and I think you and I might just be able to help each other out with this. Come up to my office where we can talk privately. There won’t be anyone around this early.”

As they left, neither of them noticed the expression of the tall woman who had started toward their table. She wore a Lieutenant’s uniform. Her white-blond hair, cut short in a style favored by the military, framed striking, well-cut features. Just now, her red, bow shaped lips set in an angry scowl.

Once in her office, Katherine pulled up the virtual screen and pointed to a line of code. “You see this? This shows where the children’s records were altered to show van Doyle as a relative. It’s not the only time he’s done it either. There’s a record of alterations of children’s records going back to before the wars. The only recent changes though are to these five records. Timon’s two boys and these three girls. I spoke to the oldest girl the last time I went out there. Her name is Juliette. When I congratulated her on finding a relative, she was the one who clued me in on what was about to happen. She is a very clever little girl. I promised her I would help her.”

“Help her? How?” Zack questioned.

“There are only two ways to remove a child from that Placement Center. They can be adopted, which we already tried and were turned down, or they can be claimed by a relative. It doesn’t have to be a close relative either. How would you feel about gaining two nephews and three girl cousins?”

“And when they find out you’ve altered the coding to show I’m related to them? I assume that’s what you are talking about.”

Katherine laughed. “Well, it is, but nothing as crude as what I just showed you. I assure you that I am a much better programmer than whoever designed this package. What’s more I can make theirchanges so obvious no one could miss them.”

He sat frowning at her. “Are you that good?”

“Yes, I’m that good. I may as well confess to you I was planning to do this anyway, but I planned to use the name of a clan member killed in action. The program has already been dropped in the database. All I need to do is substitute your name for his and activate the code.”

“Lady, you are piece of work,” he said, half admiringly, half horrified. “Let’s go for it.”

“Wonderful! Meet me in front of the gate at 1400 hours. We have a meeting with the City Mayor to discuss this issue this afternoon. Wear your uniform so you look heroic, and leave the talking to me. A live hero showing up in person is always harder to ignore than a dead one anyway,” she added.

Zack shook his head. “I hope I won’t regret this,” he remarked.

Gestuv Yance, The City Mayor, was short, round, and already going bald. He was overwhelmed to be rubbing shoulders with a member of the royal family of another planet, and thrilled to be invited to the Planetary Governor’s Ball given in honor of the exalted visitors from Vensoog and numerous other visiting dignitaries. It was obvious dreams of advancement and influence danced in his head. Zack watched with hidden amusement as Katherine not quite flirted with the Mayor. Today, she had dressed to impress; the outfit clung lovingly to her, and Mayor Yance was so busy trying to see through her transparent blouse and not get caught doing it, he signed and sealed the custody papers without even reading them.

The robocar that met them outside the Mayor’s office was built to carry at least ten passengers. Somehow, Zack was unsurprised to hear Katherine give the address of the Child Placement Center. Obviously, she had been prepared to move quickly.

“You had this plan already ready to go,” didn’t you,” he remarked. “I’m impressed”.

“The administrator is gone this afternoon,” she explained, “It’s his regular mid-week appointment in the city. That assistant of his is too used to rolling over for authority figures. I plan for us to have those children safe with us before he returns from his afternoon sex appointment.”

“And just how, may I ask, do you know he will be gone?” Zack inquired skeptically.

She shrugged. “Juliette seems to know everything that goes on in that place. I had quite a conversation with her when I saw her last week.”

She took out her com. “There is one more call we need to make. I want to let Commander Veratos know we are going to remove the children. She’s in charge of the IPP task force on human trafficking here on Fenris. She contacted me when I put through a query about van Doyle.”

Zack was gaining considerable respect for Katherine’s preparations. The entire operation was handled like a military campaign. Grouter’s Administrative assistant sputtered in distress when they collected the children, but Zack and Katherine were in and out of the facility, accompanied by five children, luggage and personal possessions inside of fifteen minutes.

As their car pulled away, Zack noticed that a bright red robocar pulled into the compound they had just left. “That’s van Doyle’s bus,” Juliette warned. “He’ll be having a fit when he finds us gone.”

Her voice was quiet, but Zack could read the underlying tension in it. She was a thin child, with bright green eyes and a shock of brilliantly red hair. Zack judged her age to be around twelve years old. Katherine patted her hand. “Don’t worry about that.” She handed Juliette a copy of the papers signed by the mayor, which Juliette scanned with every appearance of comprehension. Maybe she was older than twelve. It was hard for him to judge girl children’s ages unless they had entered puberty.

“Meet your new Uncle, “Katherine nodded to the boys, “and your third cousin girls, Zack Jackson. He now has custody of you five and as an accepted immigrant to Vensoog, he may take his family with him. I don’t think there will be difficulties; unless I miss my guess, Grouter and van Doyle are about to be up to their ears in trouble with IPP.”

“The program!” Zack exclaimed. “Will the changes you made stand up to a police inquiry?”

Katherine shrugged. “All I did was make their alterations more obvious. My changes will look like new information written into the database because of records entered after the war.”

She smiled at the children. “Juliette and I have met, but since the rest of you don’t know me, I am Lady Katherine of Clan O’Teague. Why don’t you introduce yourselves to your new Uncle and tell him a bit about how you came to be at the center?”

The twin boys, age twelve, looked at Zack with identical measuring stares. “Are you really our father’s brother, sir?”

“In a manner speaking. Timon was my blood brother and best friend from the time we were children. We were raised in a placement center after both of us were orphaned. We adopted each other, entered the service together and served together. I was with him when he died. I gave him my word to look after you and teach you how to become men.”

He looked at the bigger twin, “Rodrick, right? And you would be Rupert? Welcome home boys.”

They nodded silently. Katherine decided that the boys’ dark skin, eyes and hair from their mixed-race heritage would pass as a family resemblance.

The girls didn’t resemble Zack at all. Violet was the youngest, and she plainly showed her mixed Asian ancestry. Lucinda the next oldest of the girls, had a pale complexion, ash blond hair and grey eyes. All the children looked underweight a trifle but none of them looked malnourished, and they wore clean if worn clothing. Mentally, she judged their sizes. A visit from the tailor would be in order, she decided.

“Where are we going?” inquired Juliette.

“We are going back to the base. We have quarters there until the Dancing Gryphon is ready to leave. Since Zack is billeted with his unit, you five will stay in my quarters with my Aunt Corrine and me. We were allotted a General’s accommodations so we have extra bedrooms and a recreation room.”

“I’m hungry,” Violet announced.

Katherine smiled at her. “As soon as we get your gear dropped off in our quarters, we’ll head down to the commissary for a snack,” she promised. “What kind of foods do you like to eat?”

The dinner table that night was quite crowded. Corrine had suggested that the three men join them for meals shortly after choosing their unit. With the addition of the children, it made the meal almost feel like home, Katherine realized. At Glass Castle, as well as a table for the Laird’s family, the dining room was often crowded with visitors to the clan and students of various ages.

By the time she could finally sit down at the table, Katherine had settled two wrangles over who got to sit by Sooka, showed Roderick and Juliette how to use the selection buttons on the robochef and persuaded Rupert that a few vegetables wouldn’t poison him. She hoped it would grow easier once she and the children learned each other’s food preferences.

Once everyone was occupied with filling their bellies, Katherine could address her own needs. Becoming the mother of five children all at once was a new and worrisome experience. She knew she had a long way to go to win the children’s trust. Juliette, while grateful for the rescue from van Doyle’s clutches, was still wary of her intentions and she had a powerful influence on the others.

Gideon cleared his throat, “Um—Lady Katherine, I have a favor to ask.”

“Yes of course if I can. What can I do for you, Lord Gideon?”

He looked a little self-conscious at the title. “I too have two wards I want to take with me to Vensoog. Lucas is sixteen. His grandfather sent him to me when Gwynedd was overrun. He is old enough to stay with me in the barracks, but my niece Jayla is only thirteen and for obvious reasons, I would rather she not be quartered with the unit. My brother and his wife had sent her off planet when they learned Moodon had become a target. After Moodon was destroyed and they were killed, she became my ward. She and Lucas will arrive on the nineteenth. Would it be possible to make room for Jayla in your quarters?”

“Of course. We’ve been given a General’s lodgings and have plenty of bedrooms. If we need more rooms, there are always those handy portable walls! It might be possible for Lucas to stay with Corrine and me too. We’ll figure something out.”

They were cleaning up the table from the meal when a tall, athletic blond woman approached and greeted Zack with enthusiasm. Hastily disengaging himself from her attempted embrace, he introduced her as Lieutenant Darla Lister from Colonel Lewiston’s command.

“Don’t be so formal Zack,” Lieutenant Lister said. “I’m sure your new friends can spare you long enough to spend the evening with an old friend.”

Zack sent Katherine a harassed look. She responded immediately, “It is nice to have time to visit with old friends, isn’t it Lieutenant? I’m afraid though, that Zack has other duties this evening. This is a new place Zack and I’m sure your new wards would appreciate your being on hand to help them get settled in for the night.”

Zack smiled quite naturally at Darla. “Yes, I’m sure they would. Perhaps some other time?”

A spark of red anger showed in her eyes at his rejection, but she was too well trained to let it be noticed. “Why Zack, you didn’t tell me you had gotten married. And to a woman with so many children too!”

“Although I will get married shortly, I don’t have the name of my bride yet,” he responded coolly. “These are my nephews and cousins. I’ve just taken custody of them from the Placement Center. They will accompany me to Vensoog.”

Darla watched the group leave with narrowed eyes.

“Trouble in paradise?” inquired Colonel Lewiston’s smooth voice from behind her.

“O’Teague, that’s the clan you applied for first, isn’t it?” she retorted with just the right touch of mockery. “I hear she didn’t like you.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Lister.” He shrugged. “Clan DeMedici will suit us, and I’m finding Donna Sabina easy to control. She finds me very attractive. And that will get us free passage to Vensoog where we can implement the rest of the plan

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