Serial - Part 9 (OC)

Serial (Part 9 – Miller)

“You ask too much,” Kidi contested, silver taloned hands clenched tight in front of him. Kelesh didn’t sweat but Miller had worked with Kidi enough to know the signs. The thinly parted beak, the rigid shoulders, he was exhausted. If she pushed much more she would lose him.

She changed tactics and softened her tone, “Kidi, I know you are just looking out for your people, but try to see it from my perspective. I’m not asking a lot. Just a few acres so we can-“

“So you can pollute Keleshia with your beasts!? We don’t have the slightest clue what your fauna could do to the planets ecology, let alone what could happen should our fauna feed from yours,” he shook his head, a gesture he had picked up from Miller, “No, absolutely not. It’s out of the question.”

One more 'No' and Miller knew it would be over. Kidi was amiable but he wasn’t a doormat, a fact which Miller had come to loath on more than one occasion. She spread her hands wide in a gesture of peace, “Kidi I’m not talking about vast herds. Just a few cows and pigs, maybe a few dogs. The clone protein farms from the Hermes won’t work forever; the DNA is already showing signs of degradation. My people say we have one more crop, maybe two before we won’t be able to try for a live clone at all and then where are we? Just give us a few more acres added to the Zerha block zoned for livestock. We will fence it off and take care of our own; you’ll never even see the damn things.”

Kidi’s expression darkened, his small black eyes regarding Miller with a growing animosity. Not that she could blame him. This particular bout had already taken up half the afternoon and was now bleeding into the evening. The air in the office had grown warm and thick. When he shook his head again she knew it was over, at least in his mind. Then again she hadn’t flown half way across the galaxy and tasted starvation to just give up. “It is simply out of the question. I am sorry, Amelia, but the answer is-“

“We’ll give up the eastern bloc,” she cut him off, grimacing internally. Of course she had known it would come down to this. The eastern bloc of the Zerha zone was all ruins, old family homes abandoned during the Kelesh colonial expansions. Before the humans had arrived the Kelesh had wanted to let nature overtake it and turn it into a wildlife refuge, a project which many in the Keleshi nobles were loath to let die. Miller had hoped that in a generation or two humanity might have been big enough to move into the block themselves and rebuild it but two generations was a long time away and her people were already suffering iron and protein deficiencies.

Kidi stared at her, his shock obvious in his posture. “You would-“

“Sign it back over. Relinquish control to those vine huggers you got breathing down your neck. I do that, you expand Zerha to the west. Twenty square acres, with an addendum to revisit the allotment in five years. At the end of which you can march right on down there and inspect. If you don’t like what you see we can find other arrangements.”

Kidi unclenched his hands and then slumped back against his chair. She had him, she knew, suppressing a predatory glee. “Fine,” he said, “Twenty acres. But I hear one report of Keleshi fauna ending up dead or mauled by your-“

“You won’t,” she assured him. If anything did happen she would be fast to cover it up. She stood and held out her hand, “Thank you for meeting with me today ambassador. I will have the papers drawn up and on your desk by the morning.”

The Kelesh statesman stood on weary legs and took her hand, shaking it in the human fashion. “Are all humans this stubborn?” he asked.

She smiled, “Only the ones that are left.”

Kidi left her, no doubt uttering a few choice Keleshi curses under his breath. The moment the door closed Miller deflated into her chair. It was closing in on twilight, the massive sun of Kelesh melting slowly behind the Arodan Mountains. Her head was aching and her dry tongue was in desperate need of something wet and, ideally, incredibly alcoholic. When had this dance gotten so hard? Back when humanity had first arrived on Kelesh, begging bowls in hand, the Consortium had been more than willing to help. Medical care, land allotments, even a few initial apartment blocks built to human specifications. Negotiating all of that had only taken a day, less than actually. Of course, back then they were something of an oddity. The remnant of a barbarian species, flung out from their home in the unexplored reaches of the galaxy in one mad push for survival, it was all very romantic. The Kelesh nobles had tripped over themselves to help, to be a part of the story and the intrigue. Of course, as with any story it eventually gets old and soon enough the banality of land allotments and legal status killed the romance and bred tedium.

She looked to the photo on her desk. The girl on the other side, sickly thin and clasping hands with a Keleshi admiral, was a stranger to her.

Had it really only been two years ago that Jackson had woken her? The Hermes was, by necessity, largely automated but it still required a pilot. Someone to sit on the bridge and monitor the read outs to ensure the system didn’t glitch and send them spinning into a sun and while they had to have had a dedicated pilot once, he was dead by the time Miller was old enough to fly. It had been her, Jackson and a few others, taking shifts. The day they made first contact she had been in her bunk, sweat pooling off her forehead and hands clenched tight over her painfully empty stomach. She had been dreaming of Earth. She had never seen it herself so in her dreams it was like it was in the videos. Lakes like mirrored glass, soaring mountains and food, so much food it seemed enough to feed a billion worlds. She soared over it, greedy hands reaching down as if to scoop it all inside her and fill the void that ached more deeply with each day.

When Jackson touched her shoulder she woke instantly, first seeing his wide eyes and broad grin and absurdly, she had thought he was there to eat her.

“Amelia,” he hissed, “Amelia you gotta come with me. Right now, get your ass up.” Then he was tugging at her arm, ripping her from her bed and the sweet dreams of food. Stumbling she followed him down the crew hallway and onto the bridge. When she arrived at first she thought the power was out but no, the console was lit. It was the stars that had vanished, the entire view screen obscured by a massive form in the dark. As if on cue the shape turned, the light of a nearby star illuminating its surface. All along it sat plasma launchers, missile pods and enough other assorted ordinance to glass a planet but at that moment she saw none of it. She saw the lights, pulsing lines of purple and green and all at once it didn’t seem like a ship to her. It was a titan, she had thought, it was a god.

She had been the first human to set foot outside the Hermes in over fifty years. Inside the massive bay of the destroyer she had met humanities first alien, a Kelesh she would later learn was the captain of the Destroyer Lok-Takal. At the time she had felt like she was still asleep, living out some final blessed dream as death took her at long last. Now, she thought, eyeing the forms and reports still left on her docket, that dream had become the most banal of nightmares.

She had just about decided to call it for the day and come back to the stack in the morning when the glass top of her workstation chimed that she had a message incoming. She groaned, fighting to sit upright and rub the exhaustion from her eyes before she hit the flashing orange icon. Gispy appeared on screen. Gispy was a Bee. Or rather, she was a species whose name was fairly unpronounceable unless you had wings and a forked tongue, although the resemblance to bees on earth was striking enough to earn them the nickname. Her domed refractive eyes regarded Miller though the screen, mandibles already clacking and shrieking as the translation scrolled past.

“Ms. Miller, a Mr. Creed is here to see you,” Gipsy said, glancing over her shoulder, “Should I send him in?”

Miller suppressed the urge to scream. Of all the miserable people who could be coming, why did it have to be Kyle Fucking Creed? Swallowing the bile that had risen to the back of her throat she put on a pleasant, if cool smile. “Of course, please send him in.”

No sooner had the feed cut out that the door to her office blew open. Creed was a big man, bald with a Vikings beard but none of their balls. Just by the look of his red face she could tell this was not a social call and before she had even so much as greeted him he slammed the door, stormed her desk and started yelling, “You mind telling me what the fuck that alien errand bitch is doing harassing your people!?”

“Hello Kyle,” Miller said, forcing as much choking sweetness into her voice as she could. “it’s nice to see you again. Please, have a seat, tell me how I can help you.”

Creed glared at her from across the desk, not throwing anything. Not yet, anyways. “Help me? You can start by collaring that piece of shit Inquisitor you got in your pocket.”

Jackson, she thought, of course this was about Jackson. For all his nice qualities the man had a way of making enemies. Not that he would have had to try hard to make Creed an enemy. Creed’s father had hated Jackson’s and their sons inherited the feud. Of course, she thought, flashing back to Creed’s broken teeth and bloody brow, they had taken it to the next level. “Are you going to sit or leer at me?” she asked.

For a moment he seemed on the verge of more shouting but, ultimately, he sat, as she knew he would. Creed was fire. Throw fire at him and he would only rage hotter. You had to be ice with him, something Jackson had never understood. “Now,” she said, “Tell me what the good Inquisitor Lawrence has done to offend you.”

Creed shifted uncomfortably, the chair half a size too small for him. “Well for starters he went and joined those red coated bigots,” he said. “I mean I knew Jack was a fucking idiot but it’s a different matter entirely to drop knee and gobble down alien cock.”

Miller kept her smile frozen on her face. Cool and pleasant, she thought, like a balm. “Now Kyle,” she said, “We are proud of Inquisitor Lawrence. Need I remind you that in the eyes of the Consortium our member status is still under review? His inclusion into the noble order does much for our case.” Not that they needed it, Miller thought darkly. Truth be told they should have had member status a year ago by Consortium standard timelines but a few on the admissions council were dragging their feet, often citing humanities less than peaceful history. The tide was turning but it was slow and Miller was sure that if she had to hear Councilor Thornn go on about the Eurasian dirty war one more time she would shriek.

“It’s a goddamn embarrassment, Amelia. The both of you. Got yourselves nice suits and nice little offices while the rest of us toil away under their fucking whips.”

It was no use scolding him, despite her growing urge to do just that. Creed’s head was an echo chamber. Once an idea got in there the truth of it didn’t matter as much as what he believed what ought to be true. “What more do you want, Kyle? Our hosts have given us land and food and safety. They let us govern our own and work to rebuild our species. They even allowed us to have representation within their government.”

“It’s not enough,” Kyle said with a growl, leaning heavy on her desk and jabbing an accusing finger in her direction, “And don’t think for one minute I don’t see right through their bullshit or yours. You’re just their puppet, keeping us docile while they figure out how best to quietly dispose of us, shit it’s already started.”

Now she was getting angry, her smile turning hard and bitter, “Nobody is disposing of anyone. Are they dragging their feet? Yes. But you are doing nothing to help the situation. Now did you just come down here to waste my time or do you have an actual grievance?”

“A grievance?” he said, “yeah I got one. How about the fact that your fuck boy threatened Emery for peacefully speaking his mind? How about the fact that ever since he got himself a red coat he seems to care a whole lot more for the lives of fucking monsters than his own goddamn people. Let alone the fact that he probably abducted my fucking wife!”

That last bit caught her off guard. Her position did give her a small bit of access and she had, via the official reports, kept tabs on Jackson’s investigation into the recent murders but she had heard nothing of an abduction. “Your wife is missing?”

“Yeah she is fucking missing, for a few days now. Probably abducted by those fucking Inquisitors. Don’t think I don’t know they are spying on us. Probably took her to keep me from telling the truth, I know how they work.”

Now her smile was gone, replaced with shock, “Jesus Christ, Kyle, how long as she been gone? Why the hell didn’t you report this!?”

Now it was his turn to look flustered. He sat back into the chair, a flush creeping up his thick neck, “A few days. I figured she would come back. Besides I sure as shit couldn’t report it to the peace keepers or the inquisitors, it’s why I’m here.”

“Get out,” she ordered, now standing and pointing for the door. “Go home. If she shows up there you call me immediately. I have to notify the order.”

He stood with her, “I ain’t going anywhere! Jess is my goddamn wife and you still gotta answer for that son of a bitch-“

The door to the office opened. On the other side stood a hulking mass of hard flesh and razor sharp teeth. “Is there a problem miss?” the Renjaw security officer asked.

Miller looked to him and then back to Creed, eyes stony, “No. I believe Mr. Creed here was just about to leave. Asathol, would you please escort Mr. Creed back out to the lobby, I will be leaving soon.”

The Renjaw moved into the office, ducking low to fit under the low doorway. Placing a clawed hand on Creed’s shoulder he pulled him from the desk more gently than Miller would have thought possible, “This way Mr. Creed.”

Kyle shrugged Asathol’s hand off, jabbing his finger one more time in Miller’s direction, “This isn’t over. Your buddy Jack nabbed my wife and when I can prove it I’m going to rain holy hell down on you and all these mother fucking monsters.”

He stormed out, followed shortly after by Asathol. The moment the door closed she fell back into her chair and brought up the communication menu. She had no love for Creed or his creatures, that much was true, but if the Live Mind reports were true there was a human killer on the loose and now a member of Creed’s little hate club just so happened to go missing? She wasn’t a cop but she also wasn’t dumb. If Jess wasn’t the killer she was probably connected.

She selected Jackson from her contacts and a moment later his face swelled up to fill her screen. He looked almost frantic, sweat beading on his forehead. Behind him she could see wheat and a wooden pole with something dark smeared across it. For a moment she didn’t speak, somehow surprised to see him. When was the last time they had met up? It seemed like only a month ago but maybe longer, maybe six? “Jackson,” she said, “Where the hell are you, a farm?”

“Amelia?” he responded, “I’m a little busy at the moment. Can this wait?”

“No. I just got a visit from Kyle Creed. His wife has gone missing, do you think it has anything to do with your killer?”

Jackson paused, a grave look flashing over his eyes, “Shit, I knew I recognized her.”

Miller’s heart leapt into her throat. “Is she dead?” she asked, already imagining what the admission council would say upon learning of a human on human murder after she had spent two years telling them that barbarism was ancient history.

He shook his head, although judging from his expression this was no cause for relief. “She is working with our killer. It’s a human, Miller. Don’t know his name yet, but I got video of him. Listen, I gotta go. I’ll call you as soon as I know more.”

“Wait-“ she said but he was already gone. She cursed under her breath and then, finding it felt good to curse, did it aloud. A human killer was bad enough but it was manageable. She could convince the council that it was a lone bad egg. But now two? Worse if the council looked into Jess they would find Kyle’s little hate group and the chances of humanity achieving full member status within the decade would go down in flames.

She needed to get ahead of this. She stood, her earlier exhaustion vanishing in a flood of purpose and adrenaline. She stood and made for the door. She wasn’t sure where she was going to go or what she was going to do, not yet anyways but there was a problem to solve. She cast one last look at the photo on her desk. The young woman in it had dark sacks hanging above sunken cheekbones. Miller thought that strange girl bore no resemblance to herself. She thought that she looked half mad.

Mad was alright. Miller could work with that.

---

Link to Part 10 - Frontier

Link to Part 8 - Accomplice

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