18. Roll With The Punches
Deak tookMin away from all distractions, and the smirking Jensen, into a small room furnished with only a table, a few chairs, and, strangely, a large mirror.
"Sit down," he offered, rather than ordered.
Min sat; Zemma waited.
"Min, I want you to be able to go home soon. But we have to find Ben. You have to help me, okay?"
Min nodded and smiled vaguely. She knew she couldn't afford to be too much help. She didn't want Riddick getting blindsided. She had to be gone long enough for him to realize something was wrong. She couldn't afford to think Jack would go straight to him with the warning.
"You came here on a merchant ship, and you docked at the Zenith Port, right?"
There were two commercial sized ports, Zenith and Nadir. Not terribly original names, in Zemma's opinion, but certainly descriptive. One was at the top, the other the bottom, of the moon base. The base ran through the whole of the moon, in warrens and tunnels. Ground control directed approaching ships to one or the other ports, according to berth space and available shipments going out. Smaller pleasure craft could dock at any number of smaller ports that dotted the surface between the two commercial ports. They were closest to the Zenith port.
"Zenith?" Min frowned a bit, as if trying to remember something important. "Me and Ben live on a ship. I get so tired of rations. Ben said we could go to dinner…"
"All right, Min," Deak was patient about interrupting her flow of thought, but determined to keep her on task. "Do you know the name of your ship?"
Fortunately, the ship only had a number, a forged one, granted.
"Ships aren't people, silly! Only people have names." Zemma didn't know if other merchant ships went nameless, but Min could safely think it.
Deak sighed. Min forged on.
"And pets, pets can have names. I don't have a pet now. I used to have a cat. I miss her. Her name was Nor. She was a nice cat. I wish I could have a cat again. Do you have a pet cat?"
Min stopped with an interested smile.
Deak paused, considering how much off-topic conversation to engage in; perhaps wondering if Min would drop clues to her origin if not pressed too hard to remember specifics.
"I had a cat once too," he smiled resignedly.
Min beamed. "What was her name?" Zemma wondered again if this man had some personal experience with 'feebs,' and worried a little that that familiarity might trip her up.
"'Kitty'," he looked a little far away for a moment. "My sister named him. She thought he was a girl cat, though."
Min smiled outwardly, as Zemma smiled inwardly. A 'feeb' sister? Time to dig a little.
"You have a sister?" Min smiled brightly, at first. "I never had a sister," Min added forlornly.
"Had," he didn't elaborate, but it was enough for Zemma to work with.
"Is she nice?" Min went back to her vacant smile. "I always wanted a nice sister."
"She was very nice," sadness effused him.
Zemma felt a little guilty for this distraction. But she needed the time, and the more information she could dig up, the longer she could keep the man engrossed.
Min continued to smile. "Does she have dolls?" Zemma thought it might be best not to recognize the past tense.
"Yes, she had dolls. They were all named 'Dolly'." Deak still fluctuated between happy memories, and some present sadness.
"I'm too old for dolls," Min pouted just a little. "I'm a big girl now," she tried to sound proud of that, and yet just a little uncertain. Zemma didn't want this Min too childish.
"Yes, you are a big girl." Deak smiled reassuringly.
Min beamed back at him.
"I'm hungry."
Deak only nodded, still caught up somewhere in his past. "I'll find you a sandwich." He got up to leave.
"Can I come with you?" Min sounded a little worried. Zemma didn't relish the idea of being stuck in a little room by herself for some unknown length of time, or letting him investigate uninterrupted.
Deak looked around as if assessing the depressingly bare room for the first time. "Do you like to draw?"
Min smiled as if delighted by the idea. Zemma had never drawn anything but diagrams with a computer stylus. But lack of experience in this area would be in character… if it got her out of the room, she'd be satisfied to sit quietly (watching) and scribble on whatever he gave her.
Deak opened the door. "C'mon, Min. But you have to promise to be quiet and stay where I put you."
Min grinned in hearty agreement. "I will. I promise!"
Don found the police sub-station on the main concourse with ease. But he didn't see Zemma through the front window. He guessed she must have been taken to the main station for booking and a jail cell.
Unless that child-act worked. Then maybe they wouldn't bother to arrest her. He doubted they would just let her wander off again though. Don puffed himself up indignantly and walked in boldly.
"I have a complaint about one of your officers!" He started without waiting for a 'may I help you' from the nearest uniform.
The officer looked up, bored, with only a raised eyebrow to indicate surprise. That was good; it indicated the kind of service they gave wouldn't be militarily sharp. Don would be able to push them around a bit.
"What's the name of the officer, and the nature of the complaint?" The man's demeanor signified only routine as he took a form from a drawer and hunched over it.
"Are you the desk-sergeant?" Don blustered, poking a finger the man's way.
"No. He would be downtown at the main station," the man never looked up, pencil poised over the piece of paper. "Your name, Sir?"
"I don't want to talk to some flunky. I wanna talk to your boss!" Don huffed up like an irate Drill Instructor.
"Take A-tube down one level to Main, half a block down on the right." The man put his pencil down in relief. No extra paper work would be required of him.
Don turned and stormed out, a stream of profanity about flunkies wasting the hard workingman's taxes flowing in his wake. Public servants never changed, from world to world, or over 30 years time. But he was grinning to himself.
Riddick frowned at the message left at the hotel room. Jack sounded scared and remorseful. But was it only because she'd been caught before she escaped clean?
'Tell Zem… tell her I'm sorry.'
He intended to make sure Jack told Zemma personally just how sorry she was.
Now, what would the kid do? Hide out, or jump on the first transport?
She might or might not have enough money yet. Or even if she had pinched enough to buy passage off, she would need time to fence it. So where would she hide?
Riddick thought about what he knew of her, which was far too little, he realized. But he could follow her crooked train of thought… She would go exactly the opposite of where he expected. So, no lez bars. No fences. No hock shops… but nothing legit either. Didn't leave much else.
Her ribbing him about the light gravity hookers came back in a flash.
Red light district: Fast cash, no questions, and friendly women with the same cynical view of men that Jack professed.
Front desk could probably steer a weary traveler to the right establishment, one with girls that looked a little like young boys.
He placed the call.
'Red' turned out to be female, and not inclined to sample the merchandise. Not that Jack would have minded this time. She was gorgeous; the benefits of a lifetime in light gravity.
"We happen to have an opening for someone in your specialty." The woman was cool and professional. Very Domme. Jack would have enjoyed auditioning this one time. But she could roll with the punches. Sleeping with the boss wasn't staying under the radar anyway.
"But how did you happen to hear of it?" Red wasn't just curious, she was suspicious.
"Lucky break, Ma'am," Jack cast her eyes down, trying to appeal to the woman's obvious proclivity for dominance. "A girl just needs a job and a flop. This was the first place that caught her eye."
Jack made a quick glance up to see how the woman was reacting… and thought for a moment she might get that chance to demonstrate her 'specialty' after all. A pleased and predatory smile suffused the woman's features.
"You look like you'll fit Carmen's uniform. You have any objections to playing to both audiences?" Red's voice was practically a purr now; the purr of a hungry lioness, at any rate.
"No, Ma'am," Jack played her humble part.
"You'll grow your hair out too, just long enough for pig tails." It wasn't a question, and it didn't require an answer, only obedience.
"Whatever You say, Ma'am." Jack was satisfied when the inflected 'You' got the response she wanted. The woman definitely looked hungry, now.
The front desk was very accommodating, sending Riddick the live updates screen for all the available entertainment. As he scrolled down looking for the attractions with the 'New!' icon, a name caught his attention.
"New! Debuting only at Red's! Carmen, young and innocent as a schoolgirl! Now taking dances and appointments! Click here for times and price! Early bird specials daily!"
Riddick stared at the banner. Was it coincidence? Would she take that name?
He moved on, reading each headline carefully. Pictures of the specialty entertainers accompanied most banners. None looked like Jack; none seemed to fit so well as that one. Riddick went back to it, wondering how long before they updated the server with a pic.
How could she take that name? Didn't she realize it would be a beacon to Riddick? Was she crying out to be caught?
Min sat quietly at the bare desk with pen and paper, scribbling slowly with her tongue sticking out between her teeth. Occasionally she would glance up and around, finding Deak's eye and smile. She nibbled delicately at the crackers he'd provided.
Zemma, however, watched the room more carefully, in between practicing Furyan letters. Sometimes she would draw little circles on top of them and put smiley faces in the circles so the letters didn't look too much like an alphabet. But mostly she watched the room, and Deak.
He was calling up docking records for Zenith, looking for a nameless merchant ship that had landed in the last 24 hours and comparing the manifest names to the three he knew: Min (which he wouldn't find, Zemma still worried about that), Ben, and Jack. Apparently, this moon was a very busy place; the list seemed quite long. Zemma was glad of that at least. She didn't need to create a distraction to slow him down.
Deak looked at his watch, and made a call. "Any missing person's reports come in yet?"
Whatever the answer, it made him frown. Zemma wasn't sure Riddick would know she was gone yet, let alone if he would make an official report over her absence.
Then, a familiar voice set her heart racing.
"I wanna make a complaint!"
Zemma kept her head down with a frown. Should she acknowledge Don as a shipmate? Min concentrated on her paper, seemingly oblivious. She'd let Don lead.
"What's your complaint, Sir?" A professional voice at the front responded.
"One of your officers crashed into me as I was shopping and didn't bother to apologize…" The indignant voice trailed off. "Min?" Then a little louder, "Min, child, what are you doing here?"
Min looked to the voice as Deak leaped up from his desk. "Hi," she chirped. "Is Ben with you?"
"He's at the dock, I'm sure…" Don went on uncertainly.
"Oh." Min looked disappointed a moment, before returning to her papers.
Deak, however, was already at the front desk. "You know this girl?" His voice stayed professional, but Zemma could hear the suppressed relief in it.
"Yes…" Don said tentatively. "I'm a passenger on the same ship…"
Zemma was impressed with the character Don was showing. She never would have thought he had the imagination to play out the emotions of a concerned man not really wanting to get drawn into the affairs of others. But his voice had the perfect amount of cool reticence to it. He sounded rather like a Monger Lady wanting to hear the latest gossip, without seeming to let it involve her, just in case it went badly for those concerned.
Zemma smiled to herself. Just how much had she misjudged this man?
Deak was moving on quickly. "You know Ben? What's his last name?"
"Uh, Cooper. Captain Cooper. I never did figure out why she calls him Ben though."
From the corner of her eye, Zemma saw Deak look up from what he was scribbling on a pad. "Oh?"
"Told me his name was Dick…"
Min popped her head up, "Don't you say that bad word!" But she immediately went back to her drawings.
"…but to call him D.B. Anyway, she always calls him Ben. Must be his middle name, eh?"
Zemma was pleased Don caught onto the name she used so quickly. She wished she could see the look on his face more clearly. He'd never experienced her alter ego in person… That made her wonder, though, how did he know to call her Min?
'One of your officers crashed into me as I was shopping…' Oh! Had he been following them? Had he, or Riddick, suspected Jack was up to something? Had he seen her play her role for the officers? Zemma felt foolish again, that she'd been deceived by the girl. She tried to control a blush. Riddick was gonna be pissed that she'd let Jack get the best of her again.
"What's the name of the ship?" Deak was moving on.
"It just has call letters," Don, the helpful stranger, answered. "I don't know them. Just a passenger, you know…"
"You know what berth you're docked at?"
"Eighteen, but I believe the Captain took a room off the port…"
From her peripheral vision Zemma saw Deak turn slowly towards her. She waited for him to ask the obvious question, but he seemed to be taking a deep breath. "Min?" He sounded exasperated. "Do you have a key with you?"
Min looked up innocently. "Yes," she smiled naively. Zemma knew the name of the hotel and the particular room number was engraved on the card. One quick call would have had the name of the man registered to it.
Behind her, Jensen was laughing loudly.