Blood Fever

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER THREE

MICH SQUISHED HER BODY, twisting in a futile search for a more comfortable position. Surveillance was one of the most uncomfortable jobs in existence, made worse by the fact that she’d chosen to do it. She now had a fully formed hatred of tiny hovercars, rivaling her intense dislike of the rain, squalls, sleet, torrential downpours and showers that dominated the local weather forecasts. Ketal Seven’s gray sky filled her days and her nightmares. It was a pleasant change from their usual content. She tugged her jacket tighter around her chest and slumped lower in her seat. Even with her jacket layered over a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, she was freezing.

For weeks now, she’d followed Yetti on his daily jaunts to cafes, the Ketallian Third University and his favorite bar—not at all ironically called The Dive. She’d watched him escort numerous women out of the bar to his rundown motel room, and out again the following morning. She’d caught short naps when she could, recording while she slept so she didn’t miss anything, and had hacked and cloned Yetti’s comms in an effort to gather intel.

Not that there was anything to miss.

She noted down his meetings with clients, anyone he did business with and any random strangers he came into contact with. There was nothing notable, and Mich was bored.

Surveillance was often boring, it was true, but by now, she was thoroughly bored of being bored. She’d already tried to hack Tripness’s company site—kill them all— and the screen had frozen before the staff page could even appear. The altranet signal here was appalling.

Was this really what she’d escaped The Clinic to do with her life? Temok Marke’s face flashed into her mind, his thin lips pressed tightly together after informing her she was out of the Hunters. Eyes cold, angry at her or at himself that she’d failed her reassessments. Even now, her hands trembled thinking about that moment.

She stretched her arms forward. The sore muscles in her shoulder and neck twinged with discomfort. In her lap was her updated surveillance report. She figured if she had to be bored, she might as well be bored and get her paperwork done.

Mich scrolled back through the tablet’s file. Her eyes caught on her initial description of Ketal Seven. Trell is the 228th island of the 3163 located in the southern hemisphere. Ketal Seven is a planet of islands linked by great bridges that cross the planet’s surface like a child’s game of pick-up sticks. It rains thirty-eight out of every thirty-nine days, and everyone who lives here is miserable. A fact she could attest to. Skein City is the capital of Trell and Yetti’s home away from home.

And her description of Yetti. Yetti Tilscki. Typical middle-aged male sholan. It must be bitterly cold on Shol to have caused such a mutation in the human settlers. Red hair with gray at the temples covers his face, neck and hands. She assumed the excessive hair covered the rest of him just as thoroughly. Fortunately, his neutral-toned clothing saved her eyes from that unwanted sight.

She flicked over to the descriptions of the people she’d observed him meet with regularly. Also the working women he’d met with only once. She’d not seen him spend time with a woman on the regular. The working women seemed happy enough to go with Yetti, though she didn’t understand it herself. The few times she’d got within spitting distance of him, his stale odor and the wafting stench of his well-worn clothing had quickly forced her away. Not a bad technique to avoid anyone hanging around who might pay attention to his business.

Mich stared up at the third level of the budget motel Yetti was staying in. The Skein City Gem was the worst kind of dump. Yetti had an internal room hidden away deep inside the blocky square building with no outside windows. The only reason you didn’t have outside windows was because you were paranoid someone was out to get you—or someone actually was out to get you. Mich was the only one watching Yetti, so paranoid it was.

There was no way to see into Yetti’s room, but she could see the entrance and the outside stairs. She’d know if he left.

The presence of the two women Yetti had brought home with him tonight implied he wouldn’t be going out again. Emitting a sigh, Mich pressed back into the insufficiently padded seat cushion and twisted her body to the right, stretching her left leg out to full extension before doing the same on the left side with her right foot. She scrolled back through her compiled client notes:

#1. Sal “Tiny” Mekaim. Suspected member of The Rebel Killers (TRK). A local and rather violent tech g**g. Extensive criminal record. Attached.*

Description: Mid to late thirties. Ketallian native. Five foot nine inches. Pink-hued eyes. Slim build. Tattoo of ketallian bird of prey across back of the neck. Battenhold death mask tattoo on left upper arm. Shaved head.

[Note: Explosives expert. Beta personality. Potentially attempting a coup? Further investigation required.]

Date of meeting: Ketallian Mid Day.

Time of meeting: Ketallian 6:17 rotation.

Location of meeting: Island Mac Four. Cafe Sevens.

Items requested: Unknown.

Items delivered: Island Mac Four. Storage warehouse unit H45. Unidentified tech. Two crates of water (sighted and labeled).

Follow-up meeting: Next K-End Day.

*See appendix eight.

#2. Sinn Faber. Suspected leader of Trell faction of The Spiral Guardians.

Description: Late fifties. Ketallian native. Six foot eight inches. Deep-set pink eyes. Right eye squint. Large belly. Limp—suspected bad right ankle. Shoulder-length graying hair tied back in a low ponytail.

Date of meeting: K-Second Day.

Time of meeting: K-14:05 rotation.

Location of meeting: Island Trell. Behind bar The Dive.

Items requested: “Seven of special six”, “three of special fifteen” and one barrel of salt water.

[Note: Need to break this code.]

Items delivered: Tech? Six crates (unknown). One crate (sighted). [Note: Appears to be random parts for Freer Five spaceship. Is this translation of special six?] One barrel of water (sighted and labeled). Three crates (contents unknown). [Note: Special fifteen?] One crate of plumbing tubes (sighted and labeled).

Follow-up meeting: Next week. Date to be confirmed.

#3. Woman One

Description: Early thirties. Ketallian native. Five foot two inches. Curvaceous. Brown hair streaked with purple.

Date of meeting: K- Fourth Day.

Time of meeting: K-18:00 rotation.

Location of meeting: Island Trell. Picked up from the bar The Dive. Traveled directly to Yetti’s motel, The Skein City Gem, room 308. Female ketallian departed alone the following morning at K-6:20 rotation.

Items requested: None.

Items received: None.

Follow-up meeting: None.

#4. Woman Two.

Description: Late thirties. Ketallian native. Six foot one inch. Pink-hued eyes. Busty. Blond shoulder-length straight hair. Nice smile.

Date of meeting: K-Fifth Day.

Time of meeting: K-18:00 rotation.

Location of meeting: Island Trell. Picked up from the bar The Dive. Traveled directly to Yetti’s motel The Skein City Gem, room 308. Female ketallian departed alone the following morning at K-6:35 rotation.

Items requested: None.

Items received: None.

Follow-up meeting: None.

#5. Kata Bel. Suspected tech dealer.

Description: Early twenties. Ketallian native. Five foot seven inches. Thick build. Pink-hued eyes. Tattoo of the One on left side of the face.

Date of meeting: K-End Day.

Time of meeting: K-10th rotation.

Location of meeting: Island Siple. Third warehouse under Bridge T-168, pylon four.

Items requested: Unknown.

Items received: One barrel of water (sighted and labeled). One small* crate [Note: Handled with extreme care by both Yetti and Kata]. Two large* crates.

Follow-up meeting: None.

*See Appendix fourteen for crate size.

#6. Peal Fivam. Barman at The Dive.

Description: Mid-twenties. Ketallian native. Five foot nine inches. Slender build. No visible body art. Short cropped black hair.

Date of meeting: K-End Day.

Time of meeting: K-15:08 rotation.

Location of meeting: Island Trell. Bar: The Dive.

Items requested: Booze. Top shelf.*

Items received: Water (sighted and labeled). Unidentified liquid in bottles stacked eight by six in six crates. [Note: Booze, presumably.]

Follow-up meeting: Next K-Mid Day.

*See breakdown Appendix sixteen.

She added a new entry for this evening:

#7. Woman Three and Four.

Description: W3: Early twenties. Ketallian native. Six foot. Straight long blond hair (length to mid back). W4: Early twenties. Ketallian native. Five foot seven inches. Short cropped brunette hair, shaved to skull on left side, one tress tinted pink.

Date of meeting: K-First Day.

Time of meeting: K-18:00 rotation.

Location of meeting: Island Trell. Picked up from the bar The Dive. Traveled directly to Yetti’s motel, The Skein City Gem, room 308. Female ketallians departed together the following morning at K-6:56 rotation.

Items requested: None.

Items received: None.

Follow-up meeting: None.

Mich sighed again, breathing fog onto the plasti-glass of the windscreen. Her comm link buzzed as it received the same message Yetti just received.

[Incoming message]: Need delivery. Urgent. Pay triple. Planet Battenhold. Two days. Will confirm location shortly. Confirm. Di.

[Outgoing message]: Confirmed.

No information on what was to be delivered, but to get to Battenhold in two days, Yetti would need to depart tomorrow evening at the latest. Which meant Mich had another budget trip in her immediate future. Just what she needed.

She leaned forward and rolled her shoulders one at a time. This mission would be endless if Yetti didn’t give her something flash-crete soon. She’d started investigating Yetti’s clients to keep her boredom from sending her mind back to the endless nothingness of The Clinic. She hummed softly as she flicked back through her notes to find her entry on “Di”. She added the new delivery instruction:

Charlmehn Di

Description: Mid-to-late sixties. Presumed ketallian native. [Note: Only seen at a distance. Need to get closer for specifics. Possibly heavy-set though that could be the clothing choice. Possibly light or gray hair. Possible eyeglasses. Not Yetti’s usual client type. Looks more like a university lecturer. What is his deal? Worth investigating further.]

Date of meeting: K-First Day.

Time of meeting: K-11:31 rotation.

Location of meeting: Island Trell. Ketallian Third University Bar: The Snapdragon.

Items requested: Unknown.

Items received: Unknown.

Follow-up meeting: Unknown.

Mich deleted the word Unknown beside the follow-up meeting line and entered K-Third Day (Planet Battenhold. Exact Battenhold location to be confirmed). She’d have to book passage on the same ship out as Yetti to keep him in her sights. Hopefully, he’d call the travel hub in the morning and give her a heads up on the departure time. She had a jump bag already packed and had pre-paid her room. She could drop everything and follow. Again. Not one of the off-world trips Yetti had taken so far had gained her any new insight into the identity of his boss.

The cloned comm activated again, a call this time. Mich flicked on the speaker and hit record.

“I’m busy,” Yetti snarled.

“Five of the special four. Twelve days.”

“I’m busy.” Yetti’s voice was clipped. Annoyed, but not angry. Mich made out female laughter in the background of the call. Yetti groaned.

“Take the order, man.”

“Fine. Five of four in twelve. Got it. Don’t call again tonight. I’m off-world tomorrow afternoon. Should be back in six days.”

“Got it. Thanks, man.”

The call ended. Mich leaned her head back against the car seat. A six-day trip. Terrific.

Rubbing at the tension knotting her neck muscles, she huffed out another long sigh. Watching Yetti was such a waste of her time. She was getting nowhere and her lack of progress was devouring what was left of her sense of calm.

A tap on her side window startled her upright. She hadn’t sensed anyone approaching. Mich brushed a hand over her hidden pistol and wound down her window at the smiling woman.

“Excuse me, love. Would you sign my petition?”

Mich bit back a snarl. “For what?”

Salmon-colored eyes blinked at the venom in Mich’s voice. Damp white curls sat flat against the woman’s head. “The infrastructure rebuild bureau’s being shut down. My daughter lost her job. It’s a disgrace.”

Mich didn’t need this. “Madam, the war end—”

“It’s all crumbling, falling apart—”

“I’m not from here,” Mich snapped, gesturing for her to move along. The ketallian glared but left Mich alone, walking off down the street. No doubt searching for more strangers to harass. Mich wound up the window.

While the petitioner was annoying, she wasn’t wrong. Ketal Seven was the perfect example of the galaxy’s inability to blend new, post-war tech with the more prevalent pre-war technology. Aging vehicle fleets and a lack of properly trained maintenance staff were evidenced in the almost daily accidents Mich had seen since arriving in Skein City. She’d also observed crumbling roads, heard whistling wind widen cracks in building façades and witnessed multiple vehicle pileups when air traffic lights failed in short succession.

The further she ventured from the gleaming travel hub, the less advanced technology became, and the faster old machinery appeared to deteriorate. It wasn’t only the vehicles that had become dangerous over time; old technology was everywhere, from the infrastructure to the schools and the medical centers. All of Skein City relied on pre-war technology—and it was all falling apart.

Ketal Seven was by no means alone with this problem. D4 Prime and Janing were just as bad—most mid to outer spiral planets had suffered from severe tech shortages since the end of the war.

Mich glanced up toward Yetti’s room and scrunched low in her seat again, crossing her arms over her chest. She ignored the rumble in her stomach and settled in for a long night.