06

[This is not a "sex story". It is a story about a society where people have superfast reflexes... and guns.]

Chapter 5: A Visit to the Quandry Ranch

"But I didn't kill him," Croft explained for the fourth time.

"His death might have been avoided if you hadn't gone off on this unauthorized mission," said the frowning holoimage of the Chief.

"It was Sally," said Croft. "Her presence on my unauthorized mission was most definitely unauthorized. So don't blame me. Besides, we found out a crucial fact: Cadwalader was alive."

"Was is the operative word," said the Chief. "And then there's the body."

"What about it?"

"Why didn't you recover the body? That would have been concrete evidence that Cadwalader hadn't died in some shootout on Whenfor."

"Well, I can't deny that," said Croft. "But while I wouldn't have flinched at the thought of carrying around a charred, smoking corpse in the backseat of our groundcar, if we had publicized what we found, there might have been some uncomfortable questions asked."

"Such as?" the Chief asked.

"Such as how did said corpse get burned almost beyond recognition? I suppose I could have told them that a supersecret gamma operative with pyrotechnic mental powers (from a section we don't even acknowledge the existence of to the outside world), burned him to a crisp. But even if we put aside the security breach involved, I think such a disclosure would have served Quandry's purposes."

"How so?" The Chief asked.

Croft wanted to slap his head and frustration and call the Chief an idiot, but resisted the impulse. "Quandry is basing much of his campaign on the fact that Cadwalader was killed by outsiders under unfair circumstances. If we reveal that an outsider, namely Big Red here, burned him to death before he had a chance to fire his weapon, that wouldn't have significantly improved the situation," said Croft.

"We could attribute his death to another cause--an accidental fire, perhaps," said the Chief.

Croft made a face. "The Graftonite who rented us the transport and the Graftonite who rented us the groundcar knew we were in the area. Sooner or later the incident would be traced to off-worlders."

"Do you think that will happen now?" the Chief asked.

"I'm not concerned that they will publicize it, if that's what you're asking," said Croft. "If they do, they will also have to answer some uncomfortable questions as well, such as how this formerly dead person was killed a second time. So I think this situation is basically a no-win for either side." Croft brightened. "A tie. That's not so bad, is it?"

"I don't see it that way at all," said the Chief. "You had the chance to discredit Quandry and failed."

"I keep telling you it was Red Sally. Don't blame me if you can't put a lock on the looney bin," said Croft.

Clap, clap! "I heard that!" came the Clapper's voice from the background.

The Chief paused, as if straining for another thought, and then she slumped, and sighed. "Well, what's done is done."

"I've found that to be true as well," said Croft, glad to be able to find an area of agreement with the Chief.

"Then you should continue on your original mission," said the Chief.

"Ah, can you refresh my memory....?"

The Chief glared at him. "Meet with local elites and attempt to gauge Quandry's popularity. Try to find out what he's up to and see if local leaders can be brought over to our side. I know that Tane has come up with a credible list of local leaders for you to meet with."

"Very credible, I'm sure," said Croft. "All right. Just one more thing. As I might have mentioned, it's entirely possible that this incident will be traced back to me and my cover, what little I had, will be blown. What do I do if a bunch of Graftonite gunmen come after me?"

The Chief raised an eyebrow. "You're a level one agent; I'm surprised you need to ask."

"We're not talking about your typical adversaries here," said Croft. "I think a Graftonite on life support could shoot quicker and faster than any off-worlder can."

The Chief paused, and tried to think of an answer. "Well, as a diplomatic envoy you should have diplomatic immunity," said the Chief.

"I'm not sure that will mean very much to Graftonite killers," said Croft.

"It will have to do," said the Chief. "I've spent enough time on this matter as I can. Report back at regular intervals. And one more thing, Mr. Croft." She leaned closer into the pickup for emphasis. "No more slipups." Her holoimage faded.

Croft turned to Tane, who had been standing in the background. "Simply delightful, wouldn't you agree?"

********

"Dead?" said Quandry, looking stunned. "How?"

"We're not sure," said Rocco. "He and the guards we put on him were burned."

"Burned," said Quandry, looking puzzled. How had that happened? "How odd. Do you think someone is trying to tell us something? Is there any idea who did this?"

"Actually, we're fairly sure," said Rocco. "There were some sheep in the area at the time." He pressed a button, and a holoimage of Croft appeared.

"Who's that?"

"The sheep who appeared at your rally. Says his name is Toft, a League ambassador."

"Yes, I remember your mentioning him," said Quandry. "He had a lot of guts, showing up here. But surely he couldn't have killed Cadwalader."

Rocco pressed another button, and an holoimage of Burundi appeared. "He's not alone."

"The sheep has hired some local muscle?" said Quandry. "Perhaps that explains things. Who is he?"

"I checked him out. Carper Burundi. Strictly small fry," said Rocco.

Quandry said nothing for a moment, staring into space.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I'm thinking," said Quandry. He stared a moment longer. Then he turned and faced Rocco. "Kill him."

"Burundi?"

"The sheep."

"If he really is a diplomatic envoy, that could put us at odds with the League," said Rocco.

"One would hope," said Quandry.

"Isn't that a bit ahead of schedule?" said Rocco.

"Not any more," said Quandry.

"And what about Burundi?"

"He's not a priority. But when you send someone to eliminate this sheep, make sure he's good enough to take Burundi too, just in case," said Quandry.

********

"I think I now know what went wrong with your chimp," said Croft.

The holoimage of Levi frowned, looking sad even in his classic chef's outfit. "Not understand; jumping around everywhere?"

"And dizzy and disoriented, yes," said Croft. "Didn't you see that in your chimps?"

Levi considered. "Saw some wild behavior, yes, but thought it was... chimplike."

"Well, I guess this teaches me a lesson about volunteering to be a test subject in your lab," said Croft. "Levi, seriously, I'm desperate here; is there anything you can send me that can protect me?"

"Let me think," said Levi. He hummed softly to himself as he kneaded some dough in front of him. Croft let him work at it for a minute, then decided enough was enough.

"Levi?"

"No," said Levi. "No ideas yet."

"What about an energy shield?"

"Too bulky."

"Some kind of armor?"

"None available."

"Nothing?"

Levi considered again. "No."

"Then I guess it's up to me," said Croft, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"You master spy," said Levi. "You survive."

"Thanks," said Croft. "I can't tell you how much that means. Please don't let me interrupt your important cooking. Be sure to bake something tasty for my funeral," he added, signing off.

"Do you really think we're in danger?" Tane asked.

"I think you'd have to ask that question of the last agents who preceded us," said Croft obtusely.

"But they're all-"

Croft abruptly got up and started pacing around the room.

"What-"

"Shhh!" said Croft. He paced some more, thinking intently. Then he paced even more. Then he stopped, and smiled at Tane.

"An idea?"

"Maybe," said Croft. "If I can't outdraw them, maybe I can out think them."

"What does that mean?"

"You'll see," said Croft. "Now, about these very important meetings you're arranging-"

"I've scheduled a meeting with the head of the largest bounty hunter's union on Grafton tomorrow. I'm still working on several others-"

"Good, good," said Croft. He would need at least a day to get the electronics he needed ready anyway. "Just don't schedule anything for the day after tomorrow."

"Why?"

"I'm going on a little trip," said Croft.

The following morning Croft, Tane, the Clapper, and Burundi found themselves at the office of Tendan Ribbers, the planetary head of the Union of Graftonite People Locators. They had first dropped Red Sally off at the spaceport on Regular, making sure she boarded the first flight to August. She had protested bitterly, and refused to go, until Croft threatened to have her locked in the Ice Room. The mere mention of the Ice Room silenced Sally, and she meekly boarded her rocket, though not before giving them a parting glare.

Then they went to meet Ribbers, at his office in Regular.

"I'm surprised that he's agreed to see us, especially on such short notice," Croft commented, as they drove to his office.

"He seemed almost oddly eager to meet with us," said Tane. "I'm not sure why."

"Maybe because it's a trap?" said Croft.

Burundi gave a dry laugh.

"Something amuses you?" Croft asks.

"If one of us wanted one of you dead, we wouldn't need anything so elaborate as a trap," said Burundi. "We'd just come up to you and shoot you."

"But that wouldn't be very sporting, would it?" said Croft. "What about the Graftonite sense of fair play?"

"Oh, he'd give you a chance to draw your gun," said Burundi. "It would be a fair one-on-one contest, as fair as a battle between one of you and one of us could be."

"Fair, hmm," said Croft, filing that information away. The beginning of a plan was forming.

They went inside, were announced, and very shortly was in the office of Tendan Ribbers.

A fat Graftonite. Ribbers was the first fat Graftonite they had ever seen. Of course, he had a gun strapped around his waist, but it almost looked comical on him. Still, Croft was almost certain that Ribbers could outdraw him on any day of the week.

Ribbers was fat for a Graftonite. But that didn't stop him from being a bounty hunter for over thirty years. "Maybe they can run faster than I can, but they can't run faster than this," he once said, raising his blaster. Still, bounty hunting, by its very nature, did involve a lot of chasing, and

chasing

was not something Ribbers enjoyed. Ribbers enjoyed

capturing

, but one could not be accomplished without the other. So, after a number of years of doing this, he decided that it would be easier to let other bounty hunters chase down their targets and then collect money from the bounty hunters themselves. He came up with the idea of forming a union of bounty hunters. At first, the fiercely individualistic Graftonites refused to join, but Ribbers put a lot of effort into marketing. He was actually quite good at making sales. He convinced employers that they would be better off with a more reliable network of bounty hunters and convinced them to hire through his organization. Once he had clients, getting bounty hunters to sign up was easy. And he got an easy two percent off the top of every capture, and all he had to do was sit at his desk and collect it! It was the ultimate dream job for him.

"Come in, come in, sit down, sit down," said Ribbers, giving an automatic smile. "So good to see representatives of the League here."

"Your welcome is most... unexpected," said Croft. "I was under the impression that Quandry-"

Ribbers waved a hand dismissively. "Don't get me started on Quandry. Part of a very small band of malcontents which is trying to give Grafton a bad name." He smiled again.

"You don't like Quandry?" said Croft.

"It's no secret, Mr. Toft," said Ribbers. "May I call you Clifford?"

"By all means," said Croft.

"Clifford, Quandry's nothing but a troublemaker, a bag of hot silesium gas," said Ribbers.

"So do most of your bounty hunter members-"

"Bounty hunters?" said Ribbers, frowning.

Croft cast a look at Tane, as if wondering if he were in the right place. "I thought-"

"I'm the chief steward of the Union of Graftonite People Locators, yes," said Ribbers. "But we're no bounty hunters, Clifford."

"So... what are you?" said Croft.

"We're people locators. We locate lost people, and return them to whomever pays us."

"No offense intended, but that sounds a lot like bounty hunting to me," Croft commented.

Ribbers laughed. "Bounty hunting is a crude term for unprofessionals, people who give our entire industry a bad name. Did you know that 44% of unlicensed people locators purposefully inflict pain on their bounties?"

"No."

"Did you know that 29% of unlicensed people locators allow themselves to be bribed out of completing their mission?"

"No-"

"Did you know that an astonishing 54% of unlicensed people locators break local laws to complete their missions?"

"I guess I knew it was some number, but didn't know the exact percentage," Croft admitted.

"It's amateurs like them who give our members a bad name," said Ribbers.

"So bounty... people locators in your union are more professional?"

"Of course," said Ribbers. He held up a small disc. "A code of conduct. Rules of regulations, for locating and capturing bounties and for dealing with employers. Even rules for the humanitarian handling of the captured sheep in transit--begging your pardon, Clifford."

"No offense taken," said Croft. "So your members are kinder, gentler... people locators."

"There's no reason for our industry to be a cruel one. We pride ourselves on locating our targets, and acquiring them with a minimum of hassle. In fact, when our targets hear that a Graftonite has been hired to locate them, they only hope that it's one of us."

"I guess only the lucky ones get caught by you," said Croft, wondering what happened to the people who were "returned" to the employers who put out the bounties.

"Absolutely! We've made people locating a respectable, humane process," said Ribbers.

"So do most... people locators belong to your union?" said Croft.

"Nearly all the respectable ones do," said Ribbers.

"Ah.... If you included the unrespectable ones in the totals, what percentage would that be?"

Ribbers paused. "Well, that's hard to say," he said, looking uncomfortable.

"Maybe you could write it down?" Croft asked.

Ribbers sighed. "About a quarter of people in the profession work within our union." He added defensively, "In a fiercely individualistic society such as ours that's actually quite an achievement-"

"And the other 75%? Do they work with other unions?"

Ribbers shook his head. "As I just said, Clifford, we are a fiercely independent people. No, the rest are freelancers. They are so strong willed that they don't see the benefits--did I mention the benefits? Full medical, dental, and death benefits?"

"No, you didn't."

"Our locators are even insured for up to two million credits for accidental injury or dismemberment. That's why potential employers come to us. They know if an innocent third party accidentally gets shot by a people locator they hire, they're in good hands if they're working with us."

"It all sounds very... professional," said Croft. "So how do your members feel about Mr. Quandry?"

"Oh, he's so unprofessional," said Ribbers. "Did you know he was once a member of the Union?"

"Really?" said Croft.

"He tried a takeover, a number of years ago. Didn't have the votes," said Ribbers. "People saw right through him."

"What did they see?" said Croft.

"Well, he has no honor. Totally unprofessional," said Ribbers.

"I'm glad you feel that way," said Croft. "He's trying to muster support for some very dangerous and aggressive policies."

"I agree," said Ribbers.

"He could destabilize the situation and make all Graftonites look... unprofessional."

"I agree again," said Ribbers.

"That's why if you were to speak out against him-"

Ribbers held up a hand. "Mr. Toft, I don't get involved with politics."

"But we're only talking about exercising your right of free speech-"

"And then he can exercise his right to bear arms," said Ribbers.

"What do you mean?"

Ribbers shook his head. "Mr. Toft, you really need to become more familiar with our political system."

"I didn't gather that you had one," said Croft. "But if you speak up-"

"Sure, I can convene a Peaceful Debate, and speak my mind," said Ribbers. "But if Quandry or one of his lackeys doesn't like what I have to say, they may call me out."

"Call you out," said Croft dumbly. "What about your fiercely independent streak? What about exercising the right to say whatever you want?"

"We do--if we think it's worth the consequences," said Ribbers. "Don't get me wrong, I don't agree with what Quandry is doing. But unless he's going up directly against the Union--and he isn't--I can't take the risk of sticking my neck out without some sort of provocation."

"I see," said Croft, not trying very hard to hide his disappointment.

"You have to understand, he has some gold medalists working for him-" Ribbers was interrupted by a buzz on his desk. He pressed a button. "Yes?"

The voice on the other end was projected directly to Ribbers. Croft could only hear Ribbers talk.

"What does he want?" Ribbers asked.

They didn't hear the response.

Ribbers looked at Croft. "I see." He considered for a moment. "Well, tell him to stay off the grounds, then."

Another response.

"If he refuses, send the groundskeeper. He's a retired bronze medalist, you know," said Ribbers. He pressed a button and ended the conversation.

"I'm afraid our time together is at an end," said Ribbers.

"What was that all about?" said Croft.

Ribbers looked away, as if debating what to say.

"Mr. Ribbers?"

"There's a gentleman waiting outside," said Ribbers.

"Waiting... for what?"

"He's waiting for you," said Ribbers.

"Who is he?" said Croft.

"I didn't catch the name," said Ribbers.

"Well, what does he want?" said Croft.

"To kill you," said Ribbers.

Croft pondered for a minute. The brashness of the act stunned him. Someone had simply walked into Ribber's establishment and announced he was here to murder someone. On any other planet he could call the police. But here there was no police, no laws, only the power of the gun.

"He's waiting, just outside your office?" Croft asked, his hand snaking down to his blaster. Not that that would do him much good. How could he outdraw a Graftonite?

"Oh, no," said Ribbers. "I won't tolerate a contract killing here in the building. Here at the Union we do have standards, you know."

"So you sent him away?"

"No. He's waiting for you outside our building."

"Do you have a back exit?" said Croft.

"No," said Ribbers. He stood up. "I'm sorry you have to die, but it's been nice talking with you." He left the office without shaking hands or making eye contact.

Croft, the Clapper, Tane, and Burundi sat alone in Ribber's office for a long moment.

Then Tane said, "What are we going to do?"

Croft stood up. "We're going to leave."

"But you'll be killed!" said Tane.

"I'm not very killable," said Croft.

Burundi laughed.

"Do you see something funny?" said Croft.

"You don't have a chance," said Burundi. "There's no way you can outshoot one of us." He chuckled.

Croft pressed a button on his comm. "Then it's a good thing I just canceled your next paycheck."

Burundi immediately stopped in mid-laugh.

"Is there something you want me to do?" Tane asked.

"Well, I wouldn't advise you to stand right in front of me," said Croft.

"What's the plan?"

"Let's go outside and see," said Croft, as he started for the door, trying to look more casual than he felt.