BC gets up and into his day without a sign of Fiza.
He gets out of another excruciatingly painful three hours with the Reverend Swan and heads back to his rooms to find his com unit waiting with a message from Edwards. He calls him back.
Maybe he wants to do a late lunch. Almost one-thirty...
"Hey, BC! Thanks for calling me back," Edwards answers.
"Hi Marc. What's up?"
"That friend of yours, Fiza?"
Uh oh.
"Yeah?"
"She's in some big trouble, BC. How good a friend is she?"
"Huh. I ask myself that same question a lot, Marc. Anytime she shows up. What's she done now? I haven't seen her since this time yesterday."
"Probably because she's been in LSC custody."
"Oh."
"She didn't do anything here on Lunar Prime. But the UTZ has a boatload of old warrants out against her. Some of them on really serious charges. We're talking extortion, grand larceny and even murder, here, BC."
"Really? She's not a murderer. The other stuff, maybe. Even probably. But Fiza's no murderer. And since when does the LSC do UTZ security work?"
"She was shopping around the atrium. Her ID must have set off some alarms somewhere in the UTZ and so they asked us to intervene on their behalf. We have some mutual cooperation and extradition treaties with the UTZ, BC, always have. We enforce nonpolitical laws... like larceny and murder."
"So what happens to her now?"
Edwards rubs his forehead.
"That's what I've gotta figure out. That's why I called you. I've kept her off the UTZ radar since we picked her up. They think we're still looking for her. I can't keep up the stall tactics too long, though. We've either got to turn her in or get her out of here. She dropped your name when the LSC picked her up, so I found out and intervened, but it could get messy, know what I mean?"
With her it's always messy
"What was that?"
Did I say that out loud?
"Nothing. Just thinking out loud. She's really good at making messes."
Edwards chuckles, "Good friend, huh? Or do you just sleep together?"
"That obvious?"
"Sure. You were both glowing when I saw you yesterday. I'm not stupid. Hey, I was happy for ya, figured it'd been a while."
"Oh, thanks," BC says sarcastically.
She was right. But this shit. It starts all over again, never fails.
"Hey, she's cute, I'll give you that. Hard to resist, I'd guess," Edwards offers his sympathy.
They both laugh.
Edwards get serious again. "I can release her into your custody, BC, but you've got to get her off the Moon. Understand?"
"I get it. I'll make arrangements."
"Good. I'll have her brought to my office. You can meet her here and then spirit her away. Can you be ready to go in, say, three hours?"
"Yeah, I'll use my magic powers," BC cracks. "No, really, that should be enough time. I'll be there. And Marc?"
"What?"
"Thanks for looking out for her. She's not a bad woman. No matter what they say, I can't believe she's a murderer. She's just... misguided. But, thanks, all the same."
"Sure, BC, no problem. See you here soon." Edwards clicks off.
She kept a low profile, all right...
Well, at least I know now why she was hiding. Extortion, larceny AND murder!? Good job, Fiza. Even I might hide on Mars if I had to get away from all that shit.
BC sighs.
At least I have some friends in high places, as well as low.
When he enters the governor's offices three hours later, BC sees Fiza curled up on the corner of the couch in Edward's reception area. She looks small, legs folded up against her, her arms encircling them around her ankles, holding herself together in a tight little ball.
Sometimes she looks so vulnerable.
She looks up when BC walks in.
"Hello Fiza."
"Don't say anything, okay, BC?" she says in her quiet voice.
"I only said hello. Hey, Marc."
"Hey, BC. Well, here she is. I told her what I told you. She can't stay here. I can say we never found her. If they find out we did, I'll insist she was released in a case of mistaken identity… but either way UTZ investigators will be in my face about it before too long. You've got to get her off the Moon," Edwards says. He turns to Fiza, "I'm sorry you can't stay here. Is there anyplace else you can go?"
"Not back to Mars, that's for sure," she says. Edwards is clearly surprised. But she keeps going, "I just barely escaped with my life from there this last time." She doesn't bother to explain, although she sees the confusion on Edwards's face. "There might be one possibility," she offers.
"What's that," both BC and Edwards ask almost simultaneously.
"I can go to one of the old orbiting stations. It used to be in my family, ages ago. A UTZ CEO owns it now, but my family has an ancestral claim and right of sanctuary there. It's not ideal, but it's something."
She is so full of shit! We'll talk about this.
Edwards is relieved. "Good!"
BC shakes his head, "I don't know. You know, I haven't been able to arrange for a private ship yet. Nothing's available right now."
Edwards has an idea. "Since it's an orbiting station, I might be able to line up a small commercial transport for you myself, no questions asked… BC, why don't you take her there?"
"Me?" BC asks.
"It'll make it easier to cover our tracks in all this. We'll keep you under the UTZ radar... but I got to tell you, going to the station of a UTZ CEO sounds like you're walking right into the arms of the enemy. You'd better hope he honors your familial claims."
"It's all I've got," Fiza says, shrugging.
"All right, then. BC, she's yours. Your custody. Why don't you go back to your place for now, BC. I'll have someone get in touch with you shortly about a ship. Which station?" he asks Fiza.
"Huh?" she says.
"Which station are you going to?"
"Oh. Wentworth Station."
Edwards is again surprised. "Richard Wentworth's Station? You sure?"
Fiza nods, "Yeah."
"Okay, then. We'll get that taken care of in a few minutes. I'll see you later, BC. Good-bye, Miss Fiza."
BC thanks his friend, "Thanks again, Marc. For everything."
Fiza chimes in, "Yeah, thank you, Marc, you're okay."
Edwards nods. "Thanks."
BC and Fiza head back to BC's rooms. Neither says a thing. Once they're back inside the rooms, BC turns on her.
"Okay. Time for some truth. Talk to me. Why does the UTZ want you for murder? Extortion, larceny, those I can see, but murder?"
"I didn't kill anyone, BC, honest! They're all trumped up charges! I was running in some pretty high-powered circles in the UTZ a couple of years ago. I was a mistress to several different UTZ CEOs… Until one decided he wanted me all to himself. I went and lived with him on his station for over a year. We were happy, although his friends and family frowned on our whole affair. He didn't have a wife anymore, so we weren't doing anything wrong. They just didn't like me. Said he was slumming, that I was trash."
"Nice people, huh?"
"Yeah. But he was good to me, BC. He was warm, and even funny in his own way. He was into kinky sex, but you know me, I'm flexible. I made him happy. We had a lot of fun. Until one time, in the middle of... of everything, he has a heart attack and dies, right there in bed. Well, as you can probably imagine, his family rushed me out of there and off the station before he was even cold. All my credit, everything he gave me, they wiped away as soon as he was dead. They sent me away on the first ship they could."
"I see."
"No, you don't. Not yet. Because, BC, he had promised to take care of me! He had it all drawn up legally, he showed me. He said he knew I'd outlive him, and he knew his family would try to keep me from his fortunes, so he had his lawyers draft documents that protected a small share for me. I saw it!
"I didn't want
a lot, just enough to survive on. They tried to shut me out completely! Keep me from leaving with anything of his. I managed to grab a few things of sentimental value to me as they were giving me the bum's rush out of there.
"When his family found out about it, they filed the charges. They claimed I bilked him out of his money and then killed him. They started the UTZ's hunt for me. I never had a chance to defend myself. That's the whole truth of it, BC. I never killed anyone, you've got to believe me, and I didn't take anything that wasn't already coming to me!"
"I see."
I don't believe you, Fiza, but I'll play along. It's just easier. I hope you really do have an "in", a way to get on board this UTZ station, because it sounds to me like the last place you should be going.
"You 'see', huh? Does that mean you believe me?"
"It means I see."
"Cryptic."
"Fine."
Edwards finds them a ship that gets them off the Moon and off towards Wentworth Station later that night.
BC has to promise the Cardinal he'll be back in a week, for Christmas.
The Cardinal even made a joke about it... "just be back in time. Christmas is one of those times in the church year when those who don't usually come to church actually attend. You should feel right at home!" A sense of humor. Who knew?
The small commercial freighter carries several passengers. BC and Fiza have a compact stateroom to themselves, a tiny space barely able to fit both of them lying down. Sitting up offers a little more room.
This has to be the smallest stateroom I've ever been in. Economy of space is one thing, but this is ridiculous.
"Three days, huh? No Transpace point?" Fiza asks, as she fidgets in her folded up bed, now a chair.
"Nope," BC answers, "too close to Earth. Are you sure you want to go to this place?"
"I've got no choice. This is my last ditch effort."
"I might know one other place. Fortune Station. Ever hear of it?"
"No. Should I have?"
"Not necessarily. It's old, supposed to be abandoned, but there's this religious cult that lives there, and I'm their, um, leader."
"What the fuck? Get out! You are just full of surprises! Why didn't you tell me before!"
"I don't know. I didn't think of it. Not exactly your kind of people."
And I'm not sure I should inflict you on them...
"How so?"
"They're really religious. They believe in what they're preaching, what they're living. You wouldn't like it. Probably too rigid."
Fiza doesn't say anything. After she thinks for a minute or two, she says, "I can fit in in a lot of places you might not think I could. Like Mars, huh?"
"True. I still don't believe you were there."
She punches him in the arm. "You fuck! What do I have to do! I was there! It sucked! What more do you want?"
"You want me to believe? Tell me more about it," BC prods.
She somehow glares and pouts at the same time.
Nearly irresistible.
"Come on, Fiza," he pleads.
She plays coy for another moment or so, then tells BC, "Not that you believe a word I say..." she pauses and glares at BC just a little harder, "but people live miserably there. I told you before about the sand, it gets in everything, fucks up all the airlocks and all the other seals. They're always short on water, too, and most of what water is there goes into the terraforming project.
"They're trying to get the place to be more like Earth… but I don't think it's working. Most people there don't think it's working. The equipment is old, cobbled together from what's left of the old UTZ terraform factories and the busted up Japanese installations. And the terraform factories are hellholes, but most everyone has to work there at some time or another. The Ayatollah demands it! You see," she says the last in a mocking tone.
"Everything on Mars is old. Surplus and leftovers from the old Jap base and the ripped up UTZ outpost. They have recycling, water reclamation, that stuff, but none of it seems to work too well." She scrunches up her nose, as if she smells something foul. "It never seems to get entirely clean, either, it always seems kind of grungy, no matter where you are.
"And the people are depressing. They're all brainwashed into hating the UTZ, your church, and anyone else they feel has beat on them. All they talk about is coming back to Earth, back to their stolen Mecca, and how their hardships now will be rewarded by Allah in the end. Boring. But it keeps them in their place, keeps fueling the hate that drives the war. You can feel it," Fiza says, and shudders. "I could feel it." She pulls up into her fetal position, arms wrapped around her drawn up knees. "So, do you believe me, yet?"
"Sounds true, I'll give you that. Who'd you rip the story from?"
"Argh!" Fiza stands up. "If I could storm out and go somewhere I would! You are impossible!"
"And you, my dear, lie at will all too easily. I'll reserve judgment for now."
She sits back down and stews. BC stands, folds down his bed, and climbs on to catch some sleep.
"You should try to sleep some, too. Fiza," BC says as he lies down.
"What about the station you were telling me about?"
"Never mind. It was a lie," BC lies. "I made it up."
"Fuck you."
Fiza stands and tries to fold her chair back down into a bed, but with BC's bed already down, she has no room to maneuver. She opens the stateroom door and steps out into the hall outside.
"Fold my bed down!" she yells in to BC. He sits up on his bed, reaches over to her chair and folds it down into place as a bed. With both beds in place, there is no room to walk in the stateroom.
Fiza climbs through the door and up over onto her bed. She reaches back, shuts the stateroom door, and finally flops down.
"Wanna fuck?" she asks.
"Why not? Nothing else to do," BC answers.
About all we have in common now anyway. And what she does best, I suppose. I wonder if her orgasms are lies, too?
Know what? I don't care!
They kill a couple of days while the ship is en route to Wentworth Station. They hear periodic announcements from the Captain over the PA system, but none that catch their attention until on the third day they hear, "Father Bernard Campion to the purser's office, please. Father Bernard Campion. To the purser's."
BC freshens up and dresses in his basic black and collar, and heads to the public section of the ship. A couple of queries later and BC finds himself at the purser's office. He knocks and enters.
"Hello?" BC asks an apparently empty office.
"Hold on, be right there," a voice calls from an adjoining cabin. Then a thin face capped by a short shock of red hair emerges from around a doorway. "Yes?"
"I was paged?"
"Father Campion?"
"Yes. Are you the Purser? Who am I supposed to... what's this about?"
"I'm the purser," the man says, coming in to the room. He's a slight man, small frame, perfect for ship crew. He's wearing the ship's uniform, pale blue jumpsuit with red pin stripes. "Your docking request at Wentworth Station has been refused," he tells BC. "Wentworth station is a private station. Without their okay, this ship can't dock there. They've refused. Said there is no such ancestral claim or right. Sorry."
"Did you ask them nicely?" BC asks, already knowing the answer.
"Look, Father, it's my job to..."
"Sorry. I was trying to make a joke, inject some humor into the situation. Can I ask them myself?"
"That's the next usual option, actually."
"How long do I have to persuade them?"
"We'll be in the station's range for about a day, maybe 20 hours. After that we won't be able to dock and keep our schedule."
"Okay, I'll be right back. I have to get somebody."
"Your lady friend?" the purser asks, then blushes.
"My what? How do you know..."
"From your, um, your docking request, you know?" The man sounds as sheepish as he looks.
What the fuck is
up with this guy? Maybe saw Fiza and got the hots for her or something. Sure is acting weird.
"Yeah. Sure. Look, I'm going to get her and come back so we can ask again. Okay?"
The purser nods. BC storms back to the stateroom and confronts Fiza.
"They won't let us dock! So much for your family connections."
"What?"
"The purser's call. Wentworth Station said no. We can't dock there! No such ancestral claim and shit. What are you trying to pull here, Fiza? What have you gotten me into this time, huh? Your family had nothing to do with this place, did they?"
"Don't have a heart attack, BC. It's just a misunderstanding. I just need to talk to them myself," Fiza says, eyes wide.
"Good, because we get the chance to do that. That's why I'm back here so soon, I came to get you. Get dressed and let's go. Now."
"Okay, okay, don't get so pushy. You are so ugly when you get like this, you know?" she rants. She pulls on a one-piece black dress.
"I don't like being lied to. Constantly. It's this thing I have about, I don't know, honesty. Interesting concept. You might try it some time," BC berates her.
"Jesus Christ, you must believe your own shit, 'cause now you're preaching, too. Just shut up, BC, and lead the way to wherever we gotta go to talk some sense into these fools," Fiza says, an extra dose of attitude thrown back at BC as she pushes past him out the door of the stateroom to wait outside in the corridor. BC passes her and they both head to the purser's.
"Okay, Red," BC says to the purser when they enter the office, "fire up the com unit, please."
The little redheaded man is sitting behind his desk. Two other crewmen flank him on either side. All three men stare at Fiza, looking her up and down, obviously checking her out.
I'm usually not the jealous type, but these guys are way overboard.
"Excuse me!" BC says, moving a little in front of Fiza. She moves sideways and steps up next to him. Their eyes snap to him. "Did you even hear what I said?"
The redhead nods, "Yes, Father." The two other men go back to ogling Fiza.
Too much.
"Wentworth Station," the com unit speaks. The screen stays dark, no video.
"Yes, Richard Wentworth, please," Fiza says before anyone else can speak.
"Fiza!" BC can't help blurting out.
"Who is calling?" the com asks.
"Please tell him it's Fiza calling?"
"A moment, please."
A moment appears to be about five minutes. Then a deep, rich, resonant voice comes out of the com.
"Fiza."
"Richard. Hello."
"They tell me you've come to visit. I find that hard to believe. Is it really you?"
"It's really me. Send video, okay?" Fiza asks the purser.
"Sending video signal," the purser says, touching a control on his desk.
"I'm surprised you're here," Wentworth says. His signal remains audio only.
"I have nowhere else to go."
"Yes. I could see where that could be true. You've burned every bridge you've ever crossed, haven't you? You've burned this one as well, I'm afraid. I wouldn't say you're exactly welcome here, either."
"I'd hate to have to sell my secrets to seek asylum somewhere else," Fiza says with a false air of regret.
"Are you trying to blackmail me, Fiza? I hope not. That would be dangerous. Even fatal. Be very careful what you say. Try to be more subtle, if you can comprehend the concept."
"Can we dock and talk about it?" Fiza asks Wentworth.
"Okay, you can stop here. But there is a price, and this time you'll have to pay up, my dear."
"Not the cops?" Fiza asks, alarmed.
"No," Wentworth laughs, "not the cops. My price, not theirs. But I will grant you my protection and asylum, for that price. Dock, and we'll talk about it, over dinner."
BC nudges Fiza.
"Can my friend come over, too? He wants to check the place out, make sure I'm okay on your station. He's escorting me here."
"That him? A priest? Not your usual crowd, Fiza."
The crewmen in the room start to snicker. Wentworth yells over the com, "You men! Why are you laughing?"
"Nothing, sir, it's just that what you said reminded us of something we were talking about earlier that gave us a good laugh," the little redheaded man says, leaning in towards the com.
"Really. Then share that with us now, won't you?" Wentworth's voice demands.
The crewmen are silent.
"Well, I'm waiting," Wentworth says over the com The silence continues.
"Well, if it's not that funny," Wentworth says, "shut the fuck up, okay? Where was I? Oh yes, bring your holy friend over for dinner as well. You'll be met at the ship dock when you arrive. Good-bye," Wentworth signs off.
Fiza turns to BC, excited. "See! We're in! I told you we would be."
"That price he mentioned sounded pretty steep, Fiza. Do you know what he meant by that?" BC asks, shaking his head.
I've got a bad feeling about this...
"Not really. I figure I'll have to work for him or something."
BC looks at the men, still undressing Fiza mentally.
I gotta say something.
"Do you guys mind?"
The crewmen look back and forth among themselves, until the purser looks at him and speaks.
"Sorry. She's sexy, huh?"
Fucking attitude, too. Little shit.
"You guys need some shore leave, or at least cold showers. Give it a rest, huh?"
Hear what I'm not saying: I don't want to have to kill you...
"Sorry, Father," the purser says, accenting "Father" in a strange way. "We'll dock in about an hour. We'll call you."
BC turns, grabs Fiza by the arm and propels them both out of the office.
"Someone jealous?" she says as they walk quickly back to their room.
"Hardly. But those guys were just rude. Shit, you just eat it up anyway, don't you?" BC accuses her.
"It's flattering. Sorry! Doesn't matter, we'll be off this ship soon. And on to Wentworth Station!"
"He didn't sound too excited to see you."
"No, he isn't. But I knew he still would, anyway," she says confidently.
"After you threatened him!" he protests. "Go ahead," BC lets her enter the stateroom ahead of him.
"Still a gentleman, huh? Thanks. Hey, stop worrying, we're in, man!"
"Right. We're in."
Whatever that means.
Chapter Twenty-Six