Regers said in a weary tone, “He had it coming…I just took opportunities as they came.”
“There might be some reward money in it for you, Regers.”
“Couldn’t accept it.”
“You saved the Pandorian government from a murky scandal. Spared the surviving hostages from a hell worse than death. I hate to think what would have happened had those hijackers got this hovercraft to enemy lands, secured whatever contraband they were smuggling.”
“Just happy to do my service as a law-abiding civilian, officer.” Dumb fucks.
The officers nodded and turned to leave.
One with a tuft of grey hair, square jaw and hard grey stone eyes turned to look back at Regers. He took him aside.
“We found traces of Devirol in your blood.”
“They forced me to take the stuff,” Regers said, “swallow a dose. Part of their twisted games.”
“Now why don’t I believe that?”
“Because you’re a cynical cop. You’re paid to be suspicious.”
“Any idea what they were smuggling?”
“Some piece of alien tech. Told you guys a million times. Like a mushroom on a stem—black—gave off this weird hum and scrambled people’s minds. Lethal to the core. Took out a couple of coast guard cutters.”
“I thought it was blue?”
“Black. As in the dirt under your fingernails. Don’t try to fuck with me.”
“What happened to it?”
“I chucked it overboard. I told you fifty times. When I had a chance, I stole it from under their noses. The thing was plain evil.”
“Where?”
“How the fuck do I know? Somewhere between here and Gulliver’s Island.”
The man frowned. He scratched at his brow and hissed a weary sigh. “That tech could have been valuable. Our science boys could have learned a lot from it.”
“And it could have been used to fuck us all up royally.”
The officer pursed his lips. He gritted his teeth and gave an exasperated grunt.
Regers asked, “Any sign of…Marise?”
“Yes, she survived, but she’s in rough shape. In shock. Maybe weeks, months before she recovers. Maybe not ever. She doesn’t speak too highly of you, Regers. Said you became one of those scum, left her to get raped.”
A pang of remorse welled up in Regers. Any way he played it, it looked bad. No chance of trying to comfort or win her over now. “I had to play along. Took them all out, except Biggs. What more do you want?” His voice trailed off in a harsh rasp. “Toss me in jail, throw away the key.”
“No witnesses. No proof. Still think you’re speaking in half truths. You passed all the polygraphs but part of me thinks that inside you’re cool as an iceberg and know how to fool the machine.”
Regers shrugged. “Guess the truth is at the bottom of the ocean then. I’ll say this, though. You take any one of your damn best field agents and plunk them in that situation with those fucking psychopaths and I bet none of them comes out any better than me.”
“Maybe. Whatever happened to Biggs Guenabis is still a mystery. His body never showed up.”
“And I hope the fucking thing never does. Means the sharks got him. Hope they gorge on every piece of his black-hearted body.”
The officer narrowed his eyes. “Regers, I don’t like you. Your oily smile, the fake delivery, the ‘aw, shucks, happy to do my duty’ routine. You’ve fooled the others, but not me. Been in this game too long to get bamboozled. I’ve got a sharp eye, and you’re about as bad a shyster as Biggs and the others put together.”
Regers sucked in a breath. “You’ve got me, officer. Your words’re burning my ears. Maybe I should take a bit more Devirol to calm my shattered nerves.”
The officer’s fists knotted, lips clamped, then he gave a frosty smile. “Keep on talking, Regers. You’ll slip up—just a matter of time. A word of friendly advice. Don’t come back to this planet ever again. You hear? Never. You have yourself a nice day.”
Regers saluted him, lips curled in a lopsided grin.
* * *
At the space station orbiting Phallanor, the hub for offworld and on-planet destinations, a busy hustle of activity ranged around departure gates A45B and A45C. Regers scanned a well-built man with dirty blond hair and scratches on his face. The same man returned Regers a cursory scan.
“Where you heading?” asked Regers.
“Phallanor. Why?”
“Just curious. Me too. Got a gig out there.”
The man’s brows rose. “Oh, yeah? I have this contract lined up with some fancy-dancy CEO.”
Regers laughed. “You don’t say? Chief, looks as if you and me are in the same boat. Wouldn’t by any chance be a Mr. Mathias from Cyber Corp?”
“Yeah, none other. Who are you?”
“Regers. And you?”
“Vrean. Yul Vrean.”
“Looks as if this is our ride, Vrean.” Regers inclined his head toward the wide glass departure bay past which a silver-streamlined vessel shaped like a long capsule docked at the nearby spiderweb of berths in slow motion. The two men traded no more words on the short feeder flight down to the capital, Phallanor City. Inevitably, both ended up in the quiet waiting room at Cyber Corp’s extensive, billion-yol home office in the downtown core. Yul took in his plush surroundings with a practiced glance. Five other wary, tough-looking men stood or sat looking out the tall window upon the bustling chrome, concrete and metal glitter of the high-tech city in the harsh sunlight. Everybody had to squint. The bright sun shone through the partially-tinted glass without mercy.
Regers took Yul aside. “How’s it feel to be one of the fresh fish Mathias hooked and pulled out of the pond to be part of this mission?”
Yul rubbed his chin. “Not feeling much. A bit weird, if you ask me. What’s your story?”
“Too long and unimportant to chronicle.” Regers pinched
