The Last Horizon (4 page)

   “I’ll contact you.”

   “When?”

   Scott didn’t answer. He smiled callously, turned around, and walked out of my bar. I motioned for my bartender to come to my table.

   “Yeah, boss?”

   “Get a tail on him. Find out where he’s staying and keep an eye on him until I figure out the next move, and have Tommy the geek do a check. I want to know everything we can find out about this guy. I want to know where he came from and what he wants with Nexus. I want to know who I’m doing business with.”

   “Yes boss.”

   “No one pays two million to go to Nexus. Also, get Nikki Wells on the line.”

    “Yes boss.”

Fenmore

  
I
staked-out the tavern every night; sitting at different tables observing the regulars and memorizing the lay-out of the establishment. This was definitely a working man’s slab, lots of leather and faded denim--faded like the weathered statues that wore them; men who’s faces were carved in stone like their fates.

Montrell sat at the same table every night surrounded by his henchmen and was visited by an assortment of characters throughout the evening. Some of his guests were older and seemed to have a dignified air about them, but I could surmise from their entourage of bodyguards that they were members of some of the city’s crime families. Montrell was connected, a ruthless up and coming boss who was getting attention in underground circles for his reputation for getting things done. It was obvious this club was just a cover for something bigger operating beneath the surface.

The first time I saw Ms. Wells she was wearing a slightly oversized leather bomber jacket and a black fedora. Very retro, and the jacket was a good way to conceal the Cobalt automatic she carried in the shoulder holster. She didn’t dress like a typical pilot, but then again, what would I know about the younger generation. Nikki also wore heavy eyeliner and tight black leather pants and cowboy boots that made her look like she was fronting a neo-techno punk band.

She was undoubtedly attractive, a petite brunette with a look of innocence that was out of place in this environment,  but judging from the clientele’s reaction to her as she made her entrance, she was known by most in this locale.

What I caught me off guard was the way she handled herself when someone more than twice her size physically tried to intimidate her; she defended herself in a manner that indicated training in close quarter combat. The moves she executed were precise and deadly. Not the kind taught in some woman’s self-defense course, but the kind that required study and discipline.

As I made my way to Montrell’s table I could see that she was engaged in an argument with him about taking alo
ng a passenger to Nexus...me.

Nikki

   “
N
ikki, I’d like you to meet an acquaintance of mine.” Kurlie grinned as he gestured for the stranger to sit down with us. “Fenmore Scott, this is Nikki Wells. The pilot that will get you to Nexus. Nikki, this is Fenmore Scott. Your passenger.”

   I eyed Scott as I shook his hand and sat back down. “A pleasure Mr. Scott.”

   “Likewise Ms. Wells.” Scott replied coyly.

   There was something a little off with this Scott character. After a few minutes of small talk, it dawned on me what it was that bothered me about this guy...Scott wasn’t one of Kurlie’s goons. The way he scanned his surroundings implied that he was unfamiliar with this environment. He wasn’t one of Kurlie’s henchmen.

   “Okay, Kurlie,” I resigned as I stared into his eyes hard for a sign of deception, “I think we may have ourselves a deal.”

“Hey, great!” Kurlie’s smile widened as he clapped his hands together.

“When do you need me to leave?”

“Tonight. The cargo’s already being loaded into your ship.”

“What? Tonight?” I gasped in shock.

“Well it better be tonight, you’re due to set down in Nexus no later than the 24
th
.”

“24
th
of what?”

“24
th
of this month.”

“Of this month? Kurlie, that’s in six days!”

“Well, six-and-a-half if you include tonight.”

“Have you lost your mind? Look at the chart! Kurlie, you see how far Nexus is--it’s over three parsecs!” I spouted and pointed at the map. “There’s no way I could cover this distance in six days. This trip will take six weeks.”

“Oh come on, Nikki, you know how to get there in six days.”

“How?”

“All’s ya have to do is go through the Pipe.”

“Ooooh, I see.
That’s
the catch.”

“Why, what’s wrong? Now don’t tell me you’re scared of the Pipe.”

“I’m scared out of my wits. Deal’s off, Kurl. Sorry Mr. Scott, you’ll need to find another flight to Nexus.”

“What’s the matter, Nikki?” Kurlie grunted with dismay.

“I’m not doing it. I’m not going through the Pipe. Forget it. No way!” I got up from the table shaking my head in disdain as I began to walk away.

“Is there a problem Mr. Montrell?” Scott glared at Kurlie.

“No, no,” Kurlie reassured Scott as he stood up, “I’ve got this under control.” Kurlie grinned. “Geez, I thought you were a real space jockey, Nikki. If someone would’ve told me that Nikki Wells had that little streak of yellow down her back, I never would’ve believed it.”

“Don’t try to get a rise out me, Kurlie. I’m not yellow, I’m smart. It’s not gonna happen. I’ll see you around.”

“Make it around eight o’clock. That’s as long as I can hold the job open.”

“Goodbye Kurlie.”

“Hey don’t go away mad, Nikki, it’ll just make it harder for ya to come back.”

“I’m not coming back!” I barked as I headed for the door.

   Who did I think I was fooling anyway? I’m a smuggler, a space tick, and that’s all there is to it. I’m a runner and I’m damned good at it. I’ve taken some major risks over the years, but somehow or another the Federation never caught up with me. Sure there have been some close calls, and I’ll even admit I got a cheap thrill from being chased by patrols through asteroid fields, but they never got close enough to I.D. the Zephyr.

   I was reckless and driven by bravado back then, and to a large extent, the romantic notion of establishing a reputation among the rest of the runners; or at least to having bragging rights for my misadventures or exaggerated versions of them in dives like Curly’s Tavern.

   When I got home I grabbed the basics and stuffed them into my flight bag. The Cobalt was secured in its shoulder holster along with extra clips on my belt. A couple of other things I like to carry on my voyages were throwing spikes tucked in an ankle wrap, a tactical knife sheathed in my belt, and titanium razor knots mounted on a six foot whip disguised as a leather belt. A girl’s got to be prepared.

   I put on my flight suit and grabbed a spare that had been hanging in my closet for ages. The suit belonged to another pilot I used to mess around with until he disappeared over a year ago. To this day I still don’t know what happened to him.

   There were rumors floating around that his ship was hijacked during his last run, but nobody knows for sure. It hurts my heart when I think of him and look at the small holograph of us together. I miss his smile and voice.

   I packed a small bag, double-checked my shoulder holster and Cobalt before putting on my bomber jacket, and checked myself in the mirror one more time before putting on my hat. I had a cab drive me down to the launch port where my ship was docked.

   When I arrived at the Inter-port, Scott was waiting at the entrance wearing a flannel jacket. All he carried was a duffle bag and a backpack slung over one shoulder.

   “Good evening, Mr. Scott.” I smiled.

   “You can call me Scotty.” He replied dryly. “And good evening to you too, Ms. Wells.”

   “Nikki.” I nodded. “Here, I brought this for you.” I handed Scott the flight suit. “It looks like your size. You’re going to need it for the voyage. They’ve got lockers in the hanger where you can change.”

   “Thank you.”

   “We’d better get inside and get this clambake underway.”

   “Okay.”

   “Let me do the talking.” I said firmly as I picked up my bag.

   We walked casually through the hanger with our gear. There were a few mechanics tooling around with their maintenance droids on some of the larger commercial freighters but it looked like a slow night. It was perfect.

   When we got to the Zephyr, I set my gear down and turned to Scott. “You can change over there.” I pointed to a door that led to the pilot’s lounge. “Meet me back here in five. You can hang back and relax for a few minutes while inspect my vessel.”

   “Will do.”

   I walked slowly around the fuselage doing my preflight check on the atmospheric avionics and control surfaces along with the zero-grav retrojets when I saw Max working his way toward me from Dock 12. We had to go through “the ritual”.

“Good evening, Nikki.” Max smiled as he offered his hand after tucking his c-pad under his arm. “Looks like the Blue Zephyr Starline is about to embark on another adventure, eh?”

“How’ve you been, Max?” I nodded as I shook his hand. “They been keeping you busy around here?”

“It’s a steady flow, and the hours are good. I’m up for a shift bid in a month.”

“Moving to days?”

“Yeah, like to spend some time with the family for a change.”

“Don’t blame ya.”

Scott had returned and nodded politely at Max as he stood quietly next to me looking casually around the hanger.

“Max, this is Fenmore Scott, a friend of mine.” I smiled, “Fenny, this is Max, the shift manager.”

“How do you do, sir?” Scott offered his hand.