Chapter 10

Regin awoke feeling much refreshed. He could tell he had finally managed to sleep himself out. He had that lazy, not-quite-there feeling as he dozed on the bed. The softness and warmth was a delightful sensation to his space travel weary body. That softness and warmth would only be better if it was flesh and blood, he thought to himself with a smile. He then frowned. When had been the last time he had been with a woman? He thought for a moment. Too long, far too long. He growled to himself, he couldn't seem to go into the paid pleasures or the too-casual acquaintances and he had not met anyone he could trust enough, nor did he want to settle down. So his 'flings' were few and far between. For a young male this proved to be somewhat frustrating many a times.

This unhappy thought pulled him from his comfortable state as he sat up and swung his feet to the floor. He scrubbed a hand over his face and thought a bath, a deep, hot bath to soak the aches from his bones. That spurred him to make his way to the bathroom and turned the water on. He forewent the dispenser of bubblebath which as labelled as lavender. Not quite the image he wanted to portray. When it was deep enough he laid down in it.

So how was he to tackle this, he thought, absently swirling a hand through the water. He could hardly just come out and ask of anyone had heard of something called ORAC. Not the most subtle of techniques. Hmm, he thought, he could find out if they have any records, anything dating back twenty years or so. They could maybe tell him something. But what if they don't mention it by name? He considered that, soaping his arms and chest as he did so. It most likely wont be mentioned by name at all so he will need to look at something else, so what could that be? He washed the lather from his body and closed his eyes as he leant back again. A search of Federation bases on the planet perhaps? Or maybe a search on anything considered unusual. After all, it doesn't mean the Federation ever had it if they were looking for it. So someone else could have had it.

He dozed for a little in the cooling waters before finally getting out. This planet entertained the old fashioned towels for drying and so wrapped a large one around him as he walked back into the bedroom. As the Federation had been looking for, and reading between the lines, had been for some time then it was also quite likely that it was brought to this planet during that time. So perhaps a track on each arrival as it came through and a process of elimination? He grimaced. That would be a long and tedious task but it could provide the most fruitful information. Anyway, first things first, he needs to find out if there's a record bank on the planet. After breakfast.

He dressed in clean clothes and went downstairs, sitting at a table on his own. His order was taken and then he was left for but a moment before his meal arrived. Looking at his chrono he realised it was closer to lunch than breakfast. He shrugged to himself, either way it was food and he began to eat. There was little activity in the room so when movement appeared at the doorway, he looked that way and couldn't stop his right hand dropping to the gun at his side. He could see a dark haired girl with a lighter haired man at her side, make their way to the bar. Not bad looking, he thought. They spoke to the attendant there a moment before leaving and Regin went back to his meal. He was ravenous.

As Kerran and Calan entered, it took a moment for their eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. They both kept moving though, to stand silhouetted against the doorway was like painting a target on their forehead and wearing a sign "Oh, Shoot Me!".

As they made their way to the bar and the attendant busily wiping glasses, Kerran glanced around the room unobtrusively. There were a couple of people there, obviously locals and a curly haired man eating on his own. He had paused as they had entered, his right hand dropping beneath the table top. Kerran felt the hairs on her neck prickle but Calan's steadying hand calmed her. He had seen the stranger also. There was no other movement on the man's part as they reached the bar. A quick query as to the whereabouts of Abe Neckle led them to the next pubs so they made their way out, both taking care to not looking the stranger's direction.

Once outside Calan spoke, "Off worlder?"

Kerran nodded as they left the cart where it was and walked towards the next pub. "I'ld say so. And the touchy type."

"Wanted?"

She shook her head, "Not necessarily so. Could be anything. Could just be the trigger happy type."

"Or just cautious." Calan put in.

Kerran nodded "Maybe. But it worries me that that sort is out here on a backwards planet. Wouldn't think there was anything worth coming here for." She continued to frown as they walked.

"Should we keep an eye on him?"

"Only if he's in the vicinity. We don't have time to waste otherwise. And I would rather spend our time finding out what we can so we can get off this planet as quickly as possible."

"Fair enough. Ready to tackle Mr Neckle?" Calan asked, for they were out the front of the next bar. "Sure am. Let's see what he knows." and they entered the darkened doorway.

Abe Neckle's was easy to find. Long straggly grey hair, with a beard to match in length, slumped shoulders with both hands wrapped around a tankard in front of him. Kerran quirked an eyebrow in query to Calan, who nodded, and they made their way over to the man.

"Mr Neckles?" Calan asked. The head slowly rose and bleary eyes looked at them, not focussing.

"Huh?" was the grunt.

Calan pulled out a chair and sat opposite, bringing himself to eye level. "You are Mr Neckles? We'ld like to talk to you."

The eyes seemed to unfocus even further and without a sound the head suddenly dropped forward onto the table. Kerran and Calan both stared in amazement, surprise holding them.

"There's no point trying to talk to him." a voice said, and they both turned to what was obviously the landlord, who prised the tankard from the gripping fingers. "He'll be out of it for about 4 hours and then be trying to get right back into it." he said, this half depreciating and half in sympathy.

"Oh." Kerran said, at a complete loss for words.

Calan stepped in and took charge, "Can you tell us where the databanks are kept? Are we able to view them now?"

"Surely. Just turn left down the street and it's the building with the crest above the door. Can't miss it."

"Thank you." Calan stood.

"Come back in a few hours and Abe might have sobered up a bit by then."

"We will." and he and Kerran left.

"Well," she said as they stepped out into the light. "They weren't exaggerating how drunk he could get."

"Hopefully we'll catch him when he wakes and before he gets back into that state." said Calan as they walked. "There's the crest." he said pointing up.

They mounted the steps and entered. There was a gnarled looking man at a desk who looked up as they came in. "Can I help you?"

"We were told all the databanks were able to be viewed here.' Calan said.

"By all means, by all means," he said, bustling forward. "This way, this way, mind your step. This is delightful. Such interest, so heartening. I never thought I would see the day when this place would actually be used again, and now two sets of visitors in one day. Wonderful!"

Calan and Kerran shared a glance. "Two?" Calan kept his voice steady, although he noticed Kerran had her hand resting on her gun, concern showing.

The little man was still bustling ahead of them. "Yes, an off-worlder, searching the archives, not certain for what, he never said and it's not my business to pry. No, indeed, I'm not even certain he knows what he is looking for. Who knows? But isn't it just wonderful! So good for people to take an interest. Here we are." as they arrived at a door that he pushed open.

Kerran looked at Calan. Do they chance it, her eyes questioned him. He gestured her forward. We have to, his look replied. Kerran sighed and she entered.

They were led towards a console and sure enough a curly haired head rose from the other side of the room to watch them enter. The stillness that came over that figure made Kerran's nerves tingle in response. But Calan pushed her forward so she wouldn't stop and then the head dropped again.

"Here you are. Are you familiar with how to work this? Good.' at Calan's acquiescence. "Anything you need, just let me know. Enjoy yourselves." and he bustled off happily. Kerran and Calan sat down and began to search.

After his hearty breakfast Regin was feeling much better. He went back to his room to do a final freshen up, secure his valuables on his person, he wasn't so trusting as to believe that his rooms might not be rifled once he left them and then returned downstairs to get directions to the databanks. He paused a moment just outside the pub door to savour the feeling of the sun on his face, the smell of fresh air.

Much better than being on ship, then he set off at a brisk pace. He found the keeper to be an effusive man, greatly delighted to have someone enquiring after his beloved records and showered all manner of assistance on Regin should he need it. After finally assuring the keeper that all was well, he had everything he needed and should he need help he would certainly seek it, Regin sat down and began to search.

He really only had a vague plan. He had some bits of information but not enough to help him, he had to get a few more pieces. So he began his task. Any tantalising information that quirked his interest he jotted down. He had spread out his map on the table next to him, an old fashioned paper type of the area, on which he carefully plotted points that corresponded to the data he was gathering. He had been engrossed in this task for only a short time when the door opened again and he glanced up, expecting to see the little keeper hovering, instead saw the two strangers who had entered the pub when he was at breakfast.

His mind raced – were they after him? Following him, knew about his information, wanted Orac? Who were they, what did they want? How many more of them? His eyes flicked to escape routes, feeling the weight of the gun at his side. Then he calmed his racing thoughts and took true note of what was in front of him. It was then he noted that they seemed as startled to see him as he was to see them, as though they thought he was following them, or a threat to their purposes. The girl was gripping the gun at her side tightly. She was a little too quick to go for the gun than made him comfortable. That instinctive movement showed someone who lived a life that relied on that skill. Probably better to stay clear of her. Them, he corrected himself, glancing at the man beside the girl. He didn't seem so flustered but then her re-actions could be enough for both of them. Didn't make the man any less of a potential danger.

Regin dropped his head and under lowered eyelids watched the two of them settle down to a console opposite him, on the other side of the room. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. They were like two opponents facing each other, each waiting for the other to make the first move in a duel. He carefully studied them, without appearing to. The girl was attractive, not pretty, but attractive. Her hair was pulled back from her face quite severely. A pity, he half thought to himself, she would look softer with her hair cascading down. She had the look of a space farer. It wasn't something you could specifically point out but to another space farer it was there. This girl was quite familiar with space travel, and not as a passenger he was willing to bet. And that posed an interesting question as his ship was the only one docked at the space port. So where was her ship? Curious. The man beside her was quite handsome, as different to the girl as day to night. There was something between these two, Regin guessed. Not lovers, at least he didn't think so, but definitely a bond. Siblings? Though that didn't quite seem to ring true. But it was more than just a comrade, more than just a friend. More curious.

Regin shook himself. All he had to be concerned about was if they were sniffing around him but this didn't appear to be the case, which was of great relief to him, even though the coincidences were starting to stretch his tolerance of belief. Back to work and he focused on the task in front of him.

8

"He watches." Calan murmured to Kerran, as he leaned closer to her to point at the screen.

"I know." she quietly replied. She, too, had been circumspectly studying the stranger. He was reasonably attractive, not as handsome as Calan with his fair hair and chiselled features. Nor as handsome as Zev with his red curls and fiery eyes. But it was still an attractive face, framed by unruly curls that needed a decent hair cut. She frowned, what on earth was she thinking about haircuts for! She went back to what they needed to be doing.

After a couple of hours their stranger stood and gathered up his things and left the room with no acknowledgement of them. When the door closed they both breathed a small sigh and looked at each other.

"Why are we so tense?" Kerran said.

Calan shrugged slightly, "We're probably just tired and jumping at shadows."

She raised an eyebrow to him. "You don't really believe that." she accused. "We've had one too many coincidences on this trip for me to be complacent about it all, and you know it." She poked a finger at him.

He smiled crookedly back. "You're right. But I can't figure out where our 'friend'" motioning with his head to the closed door, "fits into it. I don't get a sense of danger from him, but there is something."

"He makes my nerves jangle." Kerran said, a shiver shaking her.

Calan looked at her closely. "Then we had better watch for him. Your instincts seem to run pretty true in these things."

She screwed up her nose at him. "Anyway, he's gone now. Let's keep going."

Calan glanced at his chrono and sat back to stretch. "Over four hours." he said.

Kerran rested her chin on her hands, elbows propped on the table. "Not much to show for that time." she said a little dejectedly.

"But we have something." Calan said more positively. "So it is more than we had before." Kerran sighed. "Come on." Calan said briskly, standing. "We still have Abe Neckles to see and we don't want to find him in the state we did before or we will have to wait another day."

Kerran got to her feet. "True." she replied.

They left the databanks after thanking the keeper, who wished them to return at any time if they needed and they made their way back to the pub they had found Abe Neckles in before. They entered the dimly lit room as darkness was beginning to fall. They had ensured that they had kept the half hour call-ins to Veril and Zev and reported their progress to date. There was nothing further they could provide and so remained at the ship.

They spotted Abe more by sound than by sight. The old wavering voice was raised, cajoling as it begged for a drink and being firmly but still gently rebuffed. Calan and Kerran took a table, careful to be in view and not too far from the door and watched as Abe began the round from table to table. There was something quite piteous in the way he begged, as though the provision of a drink would wash away his sins, as perhaps it would. Sure enough he reached their table.

"Please, sir, madam, spare a drink for an old man? Just one?" They were fully aware that 'just one' would not be the case, whether they were there or not.

Calan put on a bright smile and gestured to an empty chair. "Why, of course, old timer." Kerran made her way to the bar as Abe happily seated himself, gratefulness in his eyes. Kerran ordered three glasses of local ale, which the bartender placed before her.

"You buying for Abe?" he queried, taking her money.

She quirked her eyebrow. "Any problems with that?"

The bartender shook his head. "No. He's harmless enough." He glanced over at the old man. "One day the drink will finally kill him."

"Why don't you just not serve him?" Kerran asked curiously.

"After the life he's had? He deserves his drink and if that's the only relief he can get, then who am I to stop him?" He gave her the change. "Just be aware that he can start to ramble about things after a few. Probably best if you leave him then." and he turned back to serve another customer.

Kerran gathered up the glasses and made her way back to the table. Abe's eyes fastened on the glass in her hand, followed it closely as it was pushed in front of him, and as soon as she released it, shaking hands wrapped around it firmly, gripping it tightly as though afraid someone would take it from him. It was raised to seeking lips and he took a large swallow and the desperate look in his eyes lessened a little.

"Thank you kindly, neighbours." he said gratefully. "It's nice to get a drop of ale."

"Anytime, friend." Calan replied, taking a much smaller sip from his drink. "So what's your story?" he asked and this was enough to start Abe Neckles talking.

As Abe talked, Kerran ensured that a fresh glass was always available for Abe as soon as the previous one was finished. Calan quietly listened and gently prompted as required. He was much better at this than Kerran would have been so she didn't interfere. Abe's voice slowed and slurred, but was still legible. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, and so far he had said nothing they needed to hear. Kerran glanced at Calan, her look asking the question 'do we continue?'. His look replied, yes, and so another drink was bought.

"So much has happened." Abe slurred, hands gripping the glass, the long beard lying on the table top in a puddle. "I thought things were going to change for this place, you know, change for me too. For everyone maybe. Get rid of the Federation, make this place something again. Had to clear out the bounty hunters also, they were scum, always after something, someone, didn't matter who, or why, just as long as someone paid. They had the run of the place, good cover for him." Abe took a drink and finished the dregs. Kerran slid another in front of him that his hand automatically found for surely his eyes couldn't focus at this point. "He had spent a long time setting it up. The base, people, he figured a lot of the people on the run, those the bounty hunters were being paid to get would be useful, had something against the Federation."

Calan took a quick glance at Kerran. Could this be what they were after? Abe took another swallow, the drink half finished already. "He really did have a good set up. Could have worked, should have worked. But it didn't. Like everything else. Not sure what happened, no-one does. Everyone else is dead. Only a few got a way. They left. I didn't. This is my home. Always has been, always will be."

Kerran saw he was nearly at the bottom of the glass and quickly went to the bar and got two glasses and returned. Abe immediately took one.

"They said he went funny after he lost his woman. She was a smuggler, pretty as a picture, young, had a temper but was cold as ice if need be. Good match for him really – kept him balanced. He came looking for her. She didn't get caught by the Federation, always said she wouldn't. Lots do, but she meant it. Proved it – blew herself and a Federation patrol to space particles. Hit him hard. Harder than many realised. He went colder, harder, unbending."

"Who?" Calan questioned.

Kerran shook her head. "Don't know."

Abe continued. "He tested everyone. But something happened. Maybe there was a traitor.' He took a deep swallow. 'Traitor. Had to be, no other way the Federation could have found us. Some said they followed those others. The other rebels. He knew them, they were his, come looking him. He found one of them, that's all I know. But if they were that good, and they were on the top 10 of the Federation's most wanted they wouldn't have been followed. Too good for that or they would have been caught long before. No, had to be a traitor. All gone then, wiped out. Completely." He took a quick swallow, tears in his eyes that startled them.

Calan leant forward and quietly asked again, "Who?"

Abe looked at him blearily. "Who? You're only a whipper-snapper – wouldn't know, how could you? He had come and gone before you were probably born. But he was really something, really caused the Federation a headache, tried to do something, which is more than most. The others just complained, didn't act."

Kerran shifted impatiently in her seat, pleading with Calan and so he prompted again. "Who, Abe?"

Abe took a swallow and pushed the empty glass away. "Who? Blake, of course." he said.

Calan and Kerran sat in stunned silence.