Yesterday, Chapter 1: The Job. Scene I.

Yesterday
Chapter 1: The Job

Scene I

Manalene Cortez had curly, light brown hair with red highlights, and green eyes. She wore a simple grey blouse with yellow and red patterns of fabric laced into it at the waist, connecting it to a long, dark red skirt, and carried a patterned parchwood bag over her shoulder. A Scholars of Triosh initiation ring was tatooed to her left-hand middle finger. While uncommon in general, the ring was not unusual this side of Aethos, a planet once renowned for its private school educational opportunities. In fact, Triosh University itself was quite close by; Lumos Island was the largest in the Yraeth Island Chain that extended off the coast of the mainland continent, Saetha, and Triosh was built right near the mainland's shore.

As she strolled into a cafe in the Lumos University district, Manalene noted three snikket scholars, identified by the rings tatooed on their fur-covered paws. They looked up from their game of Bubble Makda as she passed them by. One also had a Triosh ring. She acknowledged the graduate in the special way, holding middle- and first-finger together, palm facing out, in a casual gesture that discretely showed the symbol of her class on the inside of her ring tattoo. He did the same with his paw, two talons up, and watched her with the night-black eyes of his species. His cohorts sniffed the air in her direction, learning more about her than their eyes could tell them, and then all three turned back to their game.

The green-eyed girl permitted herself a small smile. The whiskered geniuses were fooled. She was glad she had done her research on this place - specialized cliques and secret symbols were much too common in academia for her taste. It complicated things. After all, Manalene Cortez did not care about what circles she belonged in, because Manalene Cortez did not exist.

Lyria's eyes flicked back and forth, taking in the room through green-dyed implants. Her client had sounded pretty new to this business on the comm, and he'd been annoyingly vague on the details of the job he offered. During this meet, she would need all the data these implants could record: everything from visual spectrums to infra-red and electronic read-outs. It would be a lot to analyze, but it was worth it. You had to be careful about taking on new clients.

Of course she was early. Data collection would be of limited value if the meet itself was compromised by its location. Personally, Lyria did not care for uni cafes - in this sector, too much attention went to strange faces, and hers was definitely new. She usually tried to avoid spots with too many regulars. The girl pushed back Manalene's obnoxiously curly hair. She moved across the room to a table in the corner that had human chairs and a good view of the entrance and the kitchen door.

As soon as she sat down, the comm at the center of her table started to blink. She pressed the yellow order button. "Steamed cave milk in a human mug, please."

"Be there in a dot," answered a voice from the other end of the comm. Probably a Greether, from the sound. They generally made great cooks. Lyria let go of the button. She pulled her bag into her lap and got out a law text pad to study.

At ten minutes till the scheduled meet time, a tall man in a dark blue all-weather coat stepped inside the cafe. Lyria glanced up from Manalene's homework. Human, mid-20s perhaps, at least a bit older than her own 17 years. A good head taller than her, too. He had a well-trimmed beard that ran around his mouth and halfway up his jawline. He removed his coat, revealing a crisp white shirt that seemed to be all one piece of fabric, the seams attaching it together hidden in a fold at the center, with a black collar that connected to the shoulders. The long side pockets were lined in thin black thread. Two strips of gold ran down each of his sleeves to the wrist, as befitting a businessman. Lyria looked at his hat. Sure enough, a gold band encircled the lop-sided brim, the sign that this was her guy. As he entered, the man automatically tipped his hat off his head, then replaced it. His hair was cut short, longer at the sides of his head than in the middle. Almost reminiscent of a military cut. Interesting.

Lyria crossed her legs and pretended to study the text pad. She watched the man as he looked around and chose a seat at a table to her left, also with a good view of the room and the entrance. He'd called himself Biirk, and said he was a lawyer. He certainly dressed the part. The check she'd run on his comm signal pointed her to a law assistant employed by one of the many finder services in the sector, Corksan & Yert. Paralegal bounty hunters, basically. But with that haircut, and the way he scanned the room upon entering, Lyria was willing to bet saers that this guy had had military training. Not that she had any money to bet at the moment.

It was a few minutes after their agreed meet time when Lyria decided to make herself known. The contact had obviously hidden his military background for some reason, but Lyria wasn't surprised. In this business, you learn to see lies as a given. Everyone had lies - the trick was to figure out if those lies could hurt you, or help you.

Lyria set down her text pad with an audible tap, causing Biirk to glance at her. She then pulled a pale gold scarf out of her bag and placed it around her neck, as if she'd felt a draught. The scarf was her sign. Biirk did a double-take, as if not sure if this was some kind of coincidence. Lyria sighed, then turned her face toward him and gave him a wink.

The lawyer blinked rapidly, then offered a slight smile. He got up from his table to join hers. "You could have put that on a little earlier, you know," he said, pulling up a chair to face her.

"It was an option, yes," she said. There was a creaking sound as a circle in the center of her table slid to the side, revealing a steaming mug of dark brown liquid. She took the caffeinated beverage off the table and sipped it. The yellow light was blinking. She pressed the button.

"Would you like a narctip mint?" asked the Greether.

"Not necessary," said Lyria. She'd stopped taking her coffee with buzz suppresents years ago. Even cave milk didn't make her shake anymore. "That will be all, thanks.

"So," she continued when the light turned off, "tell me about yourself." She sat back in her chair and looked at him while she sipped her drink.

Biirk raised an eyebrow. He glanced around - other than the snikkets on the other side of the room, the cafe was mostly empty. "I believe I came here to talk about something else," he said, leaning in. "Something much more lucrative."

"How lucrative are we talking about?"

"We agreed on a price."

"We agreed to agree on a price, once you'd helped me understand what it is you really want," said Lyria, setting her drink on the table. "Every detail has a different value, and so far, you've been less than specific."

Biirk sat back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. "All right," he said. "My client is searching for someone, a known criminal in hiding. He's in a bit of a crunch to find her - his resources are tied up until he can prove her guilt. There is some serious evidence against her on a security pad one of his employees was able to obtain, but it got... lost. We are almost certain we know where it is - it's been jumped clear out of this Sector. By the time the official measures were taken to get it back, we are sure it would be lost again. That is why I've contacted you."

Lyria frowned. Obviously, there was something personal going on here, or the Society feds would have been called on a suspected criminal. It was probably just a straightforward job - steal back stolen goods, get out without linking it to anyone. But she wasn't that well-known in this Sector yet. How did they know about her? "All right, legal, I'll bite. Why me?" she asked. "And how the void did you get my number?"

"My client seems to think you'd be an expert on the location of the pad," he said. "As for your comm code, just know someone must think highly enough of you to recommend you for this... position." He smiled.

Damn that Pavilas! thought Lyria. Her main contact on Aethos may be able to earn more than Lyria could on a job just by walking through a crowd of oblivious collegiates, but she did talk. "OK then," she said, "Go ahead. Tell me why I'm an expert."

Biirk reached in his side pocket and pulled out a piece of folded paper. "Here is a map of the location," he said simply.

Lyria's eyes narrowed. She looked carefully at him, but his expression was unreadable. She took the paper out of his hands and opened it. Her eyes widened. She glanced up at the man across the table. "You want me to go to Ephraem," she said simply.

"Yes, he does," said Biirk. "My client did an extensive check into your background, and seems to think you might know your way around."

But Lyria had stopped listening for a moment. She was staring at the map in front of her - it had no word labels and would have been hard for most curious eyes to read, but the coordinates and markings were all too familiar. Ephraem. Tertiary plane, Red Star Tilla, Society Sector 9. Yes, she had known her way around down there, once.

"No."

The lawyer blinked. "No?" he asked.

Lyria's green-coated eyes caught his. "No thank you," she clarified. "I don't know what your boss thinks he knows about me, but he's wrong. I'm not the person for this job. Have a good day, legal."

She shoved Manalene's texts in her bag and began to stand, turning away from the table. Biirk rose as well. "I can see our information is flawed," he said quickly. "I'm sorry. Please, sit down." Biirk lowered his voice. "Maybe we could work on correcting the error?"

The girl paused. What was he offering? She looked back at him and waited.

Biirk held out his hands in a symbol of peace. "I can see we have some mistaken information," he said slowly, carefully. "I can help you correct it, so no one will make that mistake again."

Lyria's eyes narrowed. "And how do you think you can do that?" she asked.

"Trust me," he said, sitting down across from her again and gesturing for her to do the same. "I know exactly where my client got his information about you. I can take care of that quite easily." He rested his right arm on the table and sat back in his chair, waiting for her response.

Lyria eased herself back in her seat and considered the man at her table. He seemed to move slowly, but now Lyria could see now it was deliberate, as if his whole body were tensed and ready to respond to a danger. This guy, a simple lawyer-college brat. Right.

Well, at least his approach was new. Bribe and blackmail, all in one simple offer. Like he'd been waiting to throw that out. "You remember the price we discussed," she said. "Triple it, and throw in premium DM-cell slides for the trip."

"Triple?" he said, raising his eyebrows. "All right, well, I'd have to talk to my-"

"No, you don't," she said pointedly. Normally she loved these games, but this wasn't a normal job offer. "You want me for this?" she asked. "Then just sit tight and listen to what I need."

Biirk shifted uncomfortably. "I may be able to work something out," he said.

But he'd shown his hand when he'd almost chased her down just then, and Lyria could tell he knew it. Somehow, she had an edge. "Half the money up front."

Biirk sighed. "I expected that. I don't have it on my cube, of course, but..."

"Then get it rayed to my comm. And if you don't have extra DM-cell slides or entrance cores, include the price of those, first-rate, in the cost."

"I have to contact my employer..."

"And I want a weapon."

Biirk paused, his brow furrowed. "What kind of weapon?"

"A lethal."

The lawyer's expression grew dark. "I can't do that."

"You've obviously never visited Ephraem," Lyria spat, leaning forward over the table. "Even if I've never been there in my life, I know what I hear. It's not the same out there, in the upper sectors. The rules are different. I need a lethal, clean."

"I can't do that," Biirk repeated. "That will not be part of the deal."

Lyria sat back, then shifted her seat away from the table again. "No deal, then," she said. "I shouldn't have even bothered."

She got up and stepped toward the door, swinging her bag over her shoulder. Of course she couldn't take this job. What was she thinking? She just got caught up in the game, that's all it was. Sure, she was a little strapped right now, but she'd pull through. She had enough fuel to take her to Rexel's place, barely. Then she'd get it patched up and be back in business. And so what if he thought she was from... from that place? It wasn't valuable information in any way. Just a bit of personal data she'd rather keep to herself. Not worth getting killed over it.

Lyria bit her lip as she reached the doorway. She took a red-orange cube out of her side pocket and placed it in the deposit block connected to her table as she walked by, then took it out again. If she didn't pay for her drink, the door would remember her signature and mark her down in the cafe's system. There were ways around those things, but sometimes, you just had to just grit your teeth and drop a cube. Little truths help with the lies.

Before she could leave, she heard footsteps behind her. She glanced back. The lawyer was reaching out, as if to catch her shoulder. She ducked away from his hand; he dropped it. She turned around to face him and found herself eye-level with the top of his shirt seam.

"Oh!" Biirk was surprised by her sudden turn and nearly tripped over her. He caught himself and stepped back, regaining his balance.

Lyria blinked, and then glared at him, trying to look unfazed. Voids, he was big. He had seemed more regular-sized while he was sitting down.

Then, more slowly, he reached into his other pocket. "Before you go," he said, as if in apology, "I thought I'd show you a bit about this person we're trying to capture." He pulled out an object and handed it to her. It was a small image pad. "She supposedly grew up on the planet. She's a madwoman. Killed at least thirty-two people by now."

Lyria looked at the pad skeptically, then took it. It wasn't a bad bit of hardware.

Biirk seemed to relax slightly. "You keep that," he said, and Lyria wondered if he knew she had intended to anyway. "It has my contact information programmed in it. My client is right: we need to stop this woman, no matter the cost. If you can help us in any way, contact me. You will be rewarded." He paused, and said, "Her name is Estelle Banter."

Lyria looked down at the pad in her hand, then up again at the tall lawyer. She gave a half-nod. Then she turned to leave.

"You're sure you don't know anything?"

She halted, one hand on the metal doorframe. She turned her head to the side. "Never heard of her. Wish I could help." Then she stepped out into the street.