Horizon Down (Galaxy Mavericks Book 9) Page 6

  Miller shook his head.

  Didn’t add up.

  “Michiko Lins,” Miller said. “I know that name. God, where do I know that name from?”

  He whispered the name a few more times, then snapped out of it. He clapped the officer on the shoulder.

  “Listen, buddy, you’re the best. I won’t forget this.”

  The officer shook his hand again. “Anytime. And good luck.”

  Miller glanced down at the screen. The blinking orange dot faded.

  His heart sank.

  It meant the phone was taken off-planet, and would only give a signal now if she used it. Even if he could trace a signal in space, Sharma would be long gone by the time he found it.

  “Say,” he said, “the Galactic Guard—were they and Sharma traveling on the same ship?”

  “Probably not,” the officer said. He spoke into his walkie-talkie. “Hey, Skip, what about those officers?”

  “As far as I know, they’re still in orbit,” the voice said. “Nice guys, too.”

  Miller tucked his tablet into his coat and scrambled, tripping into the grass. He waved goodbye to the officer and dashed to his corsair.

  10

  Devika had just gotten used to controlling her warship when they arrived at Macalestern.

  She had spent so much time as a passenger—out of control—that it was good to be a driver again.

  As the purple column of hyperspace blazed by, she relaxed her hands, enjoyed her grip on the control joystick. Didn't want to let it go.

  She preferred the dark gloom of the warship, its glowing control panels and quiet engine hum.

  Piloting the ship had given her a certain level of…protection from Keltie and Michiko.

  Especially Michiko.

  What a relief it was to not be subject to silly questions! She had already divulged enough.

  But Michiko had been quiet. The long ride had probably given her time to think about Clark. She mourned over the alien like a kid would a dead hamster.

  She spent her time in the canteen, watching weird, humorous videos on her phone, sometimes laughing, sometimes crying.

  Understandable…somewhat.

  Devika cut off the hyper core, and hyperspace billowed rapidly before giving way to a blanket of stars. Macalestern was a bright blue ball in the distance.

  “We’re nearing orbit,” she said into the ship’s intercom.

  Keltie entered the bridge shortly after.

  “I was wondering when we were going to get here,” she said, yawning. “Any word from Grayson?”

  “He and Eddie are waiting for us in a port,” Devika said. “I've got their location.”

  “Good,” Keltie said. “I woke up just in time, then.”

  She sat down in the seat next to Devika and said, “Want me to fly?”

  “I'm fine,” Devika said.

  Silence.

  Keltie checked the star map, then glanced at the clock.

  “When exactly do you sleep?” she asked.

  “When I can.”

  “Well, I'd rather not die if you fall asleep at the joystick. No offense, but it's not how I planned to leave this universe.”

  Silence.

  Keltie put on a headset and controlled the star map. Zooming in on Macalestern, she observed the ships moving around the planet.

  “Weird. Didn't Grayson say there were a bunch of Arguses?”

  Devika glanced at the star map. There were no Argus ships like Grayson described.

  “Maybe he was mistaken?” Devika asked.

  “He's not one to make visual mistakes like that,” Keltie said. “Hmm.”

  “We’re back in your old home, right?” Devika asked.

  “Yeah,” Keltie said. “Don't remind me.”

  “It could be useful,” Devika said.

  The radio went off, and a public service announcement played.

  “There have been Argus ships spotted in the area. Please arm your ship and proceed carefully. If you run into trouble, call 811ATN.”

  Devika steered for Macalestern, navigating around numerous military ships.

  “Grayson wasn't kidding, then,” Devika said.

  “Told you,” Keltie said.

  “Let's focus on meeting up with Grayson,” she said, focusing ahead.

  Michiko’s fingers cramped and she massaged them.

  For the last four hours, she had been sitting in the ship’s canteen, on her phone, doing public database searches.

  And it turned out that public database searches weren’t easy to do on your phone, in hyperspace, with little to no Internet connection. So her searches failed half of the time and even though she knew she should have waited until she was out of hyperspace, she couldn’t stop herself from searching the Internet for all traces of Devika Sharma.

  Ever since Devika told Michiko was adopted, Michiko couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  Where had Devika come from?

  Where were her parents?

  She couldn’t imagine what that would feel like, split up from your parents at such a young age. She felt Devika’s pain, understood her life in an instant.

  Maybe there was something she could do, some way she could help ease Devika’s pain. No one should have had to live with that!

  When her fingers felt better, she checked her phone again.

  A positive match.

  She’d had to pay ten bucks to get into a news database—the price peeved her—but maybe it had something…

  She scrolled through the results.

  Devika Bhattacharya

  Devika James

  Devika Rabindrananth

  Devika Wallace

  “Hmm,” Michiko said. “I guess Devika’s a pretty common name in the galaxy.”

  She sighed and narrowed the search to Provenance.

  No results.

  Devika was such a mystery!

  “Oh, Devi, Devi, Devi,” Michiko said, resting her head on her hands, staring at the phone.

  And then she remembered.

  Her nickname was Devi.

  She didn’t like anyone to call her that.

  Only Grayson could do it without getting punched.

  She amended her search.

  Devi Sharma.

  Three matches appeared.

  Devi Sharma - Miracle Survivor.

  “Huh?” Michiko asked, tilting her head as she opened the article.

  PROVENANCE - The galaxy is rooting for a nine-year-old who is being hailed as a hero of survival. Devi Sharma was one of fifty children rescued from an Argus slave camp in an asteroid belt in the upper arm. She was abused and suffered severe malnourishment, unable to speak coherently when the Galactic Guard found her.

  Sharma is one of ten survivors of the camp, and her rescue is raising questions about whether the Rah Galaxy is adequately equipped to combat the growing Argus threat.

  “This is yet another entry in the long list of grievances we have with our government,” says Mary Williams, a social worker who was present during the rescue. “They’re not doing enough. If they were, Devi Sharma wouldn’t have suffered so horribly. What happened to these children is insufferable, and if you aren’t as angry as I am, then you need to re-examine your belief system and think about what you would do if Devi were your child.”

  Michiko read the article again.

  And again.

  Devika was an orphan, yes…but from an Argus slave camp?

  She read the second article titled Child Slave Camps, One Year Later - Orphan Survivor Flourishing.

  PROVENANCE—A young girl that captivated hearts all over the galaxy after being rescued from an Argus slave camp is doing very well now.

  Devi Sharma was seventy pounds, pale, and barely able to speak when the Galactic Guard found her. Now she has found her way, thanks to a social worker. She is enrolled at the Carmen County Elementary School, where she is excelling in physical education and reading.

  “It's tough for her,” says Mary Williams, Sharma’s
social worker. “Devi has shown tremendous resilience. We’re working through therapy, but Devi is like any normal kid.”

  As the galaxy enters talks with the Argus race about a potential peace accord, Devi’s story is one of resilience and healing—not just for her, but for all of us.

  Michiko sighed with relief.

  Devi recovered. Thank God! Michiko felt as if she were living Devi’s life along with her.

  She imagined how tormented a little girl like Devi must have been. To be ripped from her mother and father and everything she's ever known, and then be forced to live as an orphan in a strange new place. Even on sunny days, it would have been sad.

  Michiko thought about her own childhood—her teen years, those angst, music-filled years with ephemeral friendships, boys who were just that, boys, and all the drama. So much drama.

  Suddenly she felt bad. Like she was entitled. Privileged.

  Shaking her head, she read the next article titled Social Worker Breaks Taboo and Adopts Case Child.

  PROVENANCE—A social worker has caused outrage in her community for doing what many deem unethical and possibly illegal—adopting a child from one of her cases.

  Mary Williams, who made headlines two years ago for working with Argus camp survivor Devi Sharma, has filed for custody of eleven year-old Sharma, who is orphaned and currently in the galaxy foster system.

  Williams has resigned from her job, acknowledging the ethical quandary.

  “My conscience cannot allow me to continue my job as a Rah social worker,” Mary writes in her resignation letter. “And neither can my heart.”

  In a written statement from Williams’s attorney, Williams acknowledged the anger and hatred many might feel toward her.

  “As a social worker, I know firsthand the danger of getting too close emotionally with a child. But if there's one thing I know, it's that all children deserve to be loved, and they deserve a home. I feel, that with everything going on in Devi’s life right now, that she deserves consistency. To have her be lost in the foster system would be a travesty of our time. My attorney and I will make our best case for me, and we will peacefully observe the galaxy laws around this topic and cooperate with the ethics board as they complete their investigation.”

  Williams’s action has prompted personal attacks, hate mail, and death threats, all of which her attorney says she is taking “in stride.”

  The courts will decide on the matter later this month.

  “Drama, drama, drama,” Michiko said, glancing out the canteen door. She imagined Devika.

  No wonder she was so secretive and quiet.

  She must have been trying to protect her past, cover it up.

  She clicked on the last article titled SOCIAL WORKER WINS CUSTODY.

  PROVENANCE—In a highly-contested case, Mary Williams has been awarded custody of eleven year-old Devi Sharma. Sharma expressed and advocated for Williams during the proceedings.

  This closes a contentious and at times violent case that angered child rights’ activists and ethical watchdogs around the galaxy.

  “What matters is that Devi is safe,” Williams said at a press conference. “She has a home.”

  Williams, who resigned from her job as a social worker, has taken a temporary office job in the medical field to help pay the bills.

  Michiko closed the article and sat back. This Mary woman was a saint!

  Then she heard footsteps.

  Michiko closed her news app and switched to a video app, where a video of a cat chasing a scarecrow flashed on her screen.

  Keltie folded her arms. “Seriously? You're still watching cat videos?”

  “What's wrong with cats?” Michiko asked, tucking her phone away quickly.

  “Nothing,” Keltie said. “I love cats, too, but I don't spend six hours watching him. Honey, are you okay?”

  “I'm fine,” Michiko said, rising.

  “Is it Clark?”

  “I told you. I'm at peace about him.”

  “Then what is it? It's not normal.”

  “I'm sitting on a space ship for hours on end,” Michiko said. “What do you expect me to do? Sleep?”

  Keltie stared at her, frowning.

  “I don't know you very well, but you're not being honest with me.”

  Michiko started out of the canteen.

  “I promise. I'm fine! I really am. It's just—the world that upsets me sometimes.”

  “The world?”

  “People can be so cruel to one another. I just don't understand why.”

  Keltie listened.

  Michiko smiled. “But then there are people who make the world so bright. They shine. They stand up for their convictions, even when everyone boos them. Like a mom protecting her daughter even though maybe she shouldn't, you know?”

  “Michiko, what are you talking about?”

  “Like I said,” Michiko said, walking into the hallway. “I'm totally fine.”

  Devika prepared the ship for entry into Macalestern.

  Michiko strolled into the bridge and sat next to Devika. Propping her head on her knuckles, she stared.

  Devika felt an intense stare that didn't let up.

  She pursed her lips.

  “What is it?” she asked, annoyed.

  Michiko was smiling. “Nothing,” she said.

  “Then why are you staring a hole in my skull?”

  Michiko smiled wider.

  “I just had a revelation, that's all.”

  “Care to share, or are you just going to make this even more awkward?”

  Michiko finally turned away, glancing out at Macalestern’s broad, blue horizon.

  “No, I won't share,” Michiko said. “Because it would annoy you.”

  “Thanks for your consideration,” Devika said.

  Michiko extended her hand.

  “I want to start fresh,” Michiko said. “I am Michiko Lins. I am chipper to the point of nausea, I am nosy, I ask a lot of questions, and sometimes I don't have a filter. Basically…we’re polar opposites.”

  Devika took her hand reluctantly.

  “But I'm in this for the same reason you are,” Michiko said. “And I'm sorry if I've been really annoying. But you've been really gloomy.”

  “How did this turn into an attack on me all of a sudden?”

  “Sorry,” Michiko said. “Didn't mean that. It's just—we’re a team and we have to work together. I promise to be more respectful of you and your…quirks.”

  Devika wanted to roll her eyes, but Michiko’s tone seemed genuine.

  Devika tightened her grip and shook Michiko’s hand.

  “You've got a deal,” she said.

  “Very touching,” Keltie said, entering the bridge. “I hate to break this up, but Eddie and Grayson need our help.”

  Devika took the controls and hit the auto-entry button. As she ship began to shake, she tried to clear her mind. Even though Michiko was sitting next to her, she couldn't get her face and the awkward conversation out of her head.

  11

  Smoke huddled in the corner of the airlock.

  He grasped the piece of paper Florian had given him.

  He'd finished his mission.

  He'd killed a man.

  An innocent man.

  But in return, he got a piece of his life back.

  A piece of his life that he should have been angry about. But he didn't know how to be angry. Every time he wanted to feel the emotion, his mind shut down, steered him in another direction.

  What would this paper hold?

  Would it tell him (again) that he was a super soldier?

  Would it tell him who he was?

  His palm was sweating. The paper was wet from his palm.

  His handcuffs jangled against the pipe that Florian had chained him to.

  Slowly, he unfolded the paper.

  Unlike the last paper, this one only had a few lines of text on it.

  A photocopy.

  Of an address.

  G. Mariano and Jo
sie Maddigan

  32898 Shinned Hawk Lane Apt #97

  Commercial Zone 7

  Bartholomew IV

  Right at the bottom was a line of letters, but he couldn't read it.

  What did it say?

  Something something…realty?

  Is that what it said?

  Realty?

  Why realty?

  And…that was it.

  Just a name, an address, and a digital stamp in the corner, and the words that he could barely see.

  G. Mariano…

  Whoever the hell that was.

  Josie.

  He knew Josie.

  He didn't know why, but he could almost see her, almost smell her. She was so near his senses that he could almost imagine her next to him. He could almost imagine touching her.

  Why would he imagine touching a random woman?

  He crumpled the paper.

  He watched space fly by, the stars blurry and blinking beacons of spaceships glowing in the distance.

  He gazed outside for minutes until he sensed someone near.

  “So…how did that make you feel?” a voice asked.

  It was Florian. He was eating a pile of nuts from his palm.

  Smoke said nothing.

  “You did a good job back there,” Florian said. “I love it when you do what I need you to do, and we don't even need to communicate. It's almost as if we’re long lost twins.”

  “When are you going to let me go?” Smoke asked.

  “In due time,” Florian said. “But for now, you work for me. If you want food and drink, you work for me. And make no mistake, I'll starve you to death. Keep doing a good job and I'll keep feeding you any info I find.”

  “What did you give me?” Smoke asked, holding up the crumpled paper, “What good does this do me?”

  He tossed the paper at Florian but Florian swatted it away.

  “Look at you,” Florian said “I go out of my way to get you sensitive information and you just throw it away.”

  “I wouldn't call an address sensitive.”

  Florian laughed. “You just don't get it, do you, Gino?”

  Smoke’s eyes widened.

  Florian laughed again.

  “Dinner’s coming in thirty. Toodles.”