Page 51 of Stalker
Up ahead, a water reclamation intake vent beckons. I aim straight for it, timing my jump perfectly. The limo screams past the vent while I roll out the door, my bone spurs catching on the grating.
The empty limo continues on, drawing the patrol car with it. I drop into the darkness below, splashing into knee-deep recycled water. The tunnel's musty air fills my lungs as I wade deeper into the shadows.
Time to disappear for a while.
The recycled water sloshes around my knees as I trudge through the maintenance tunnels. My bone spurs scrape against the metal walls, sending echoes bouncing through the darkness. The stench of mildew and decay fills my nostrils.
Three hours of walking brings me to a service ladder. The rungs creak under my weight as I climb up to the top level.
The Drunken Asteroid beckons with its flickering neon sign. Perfect. The kind of place where credits buy silence and no one asks questions.
"Bloodwine. Double." I slump onto a barstool. The vinyl covering crackles beneath me.
The bartender - a grizzled Thoraxian with three cybernetic eyes - slides the drink across without comment. The thick red liquid burns going down.
Another glass appears before I ask. "Leave the bottle."
Daniels's words echo in my head. The casual way he offered to sell his own daughter. The contempt in his voice when he spoke of the women he trafficked.
The bloodwine turns sour in my stomach. I was a fool to think there might be a shred of decency in him. Some fragment of honor that would let him face justice with dignity.
But he's worse than I imagined. A monster who sees other beings as objects to be used and discarded. Who wraps his crimes in pretty lies about protection and purpose.
I drain the glass, pour another. The bottle's nearly empty now.
What options do I have left? I can't kill him - it would destroy Maryse. Can't turn him in without proof. Can't let him continue his evil.
The bone spurs in my arms ache with the need to rend flesh. But violence won't solve this. For the first time in my life, I have no clear path forward.
I signal for another bottle. Maybe the answers hide at the bottom this bottle...
CHAPTER 20
MARYSE
The stealth suit clings to my curves like a second skin. A dozen status lights blink across my forearm display - power cells, sensor arrays, and the experimental photon scatter field that will keep me invisible. At least until I move.
"Check, check." I tap each component laid out on the bed. Sonic dampeners for my boots. Signal scramblers. Even my old data sniffer from Programming 201.
The collar at my throat pulses with a gentle warmth. I haven't been able to remove it since Bruticus left. Don't want to, if I'm honest.
"Detective Thux, are you in position?"
"Affirmative." Vorpa's gravelly voice comes through my earpiece. "Security's already giving me the stink-eye. When I flash my badge, they'll be too busy dealing with an 'official investigation' to notice you slipping past."
"Copy that." My hands shake as I load spare power cells into the utility belt. "Just... keep them occupied for fifteen minutes. That's all I need."
"You got it, kid. Though I still say we should wait for backup."
"No time. Father's selling more people tonight. I can feel it."
The bed creaks as I gather up the last pieces of equipment. Motion sensors. Audio bugs. Everything I need to expose what's really happening in that club.
"Besides." My voice catches. "Bruticus is still out there somewhere. The sooner we stop my father, the sooner..."
"Focus on the mission, Maryse. Romance comes later."
"Right." I check my chrono. Ten minutes until the party starts. "Moving into position now."