Junker Blues Read online

  “There is no need for violence,” Mother Beldine said more forcefully with her eyes focused on the back of green haired youth. She hissed a word to Carmichael in SiRus who looked like he was about to spring at Marcus. With the word, he cringed back, looking like a kicked puppy. He moved behind Mother Beldine and continued into the corridor.

  “It is only you and me at the moment,” Mother Beldine said, giving Marcus a flat look. “The knife, please.”

  “I would like to speak to my companion, simply to make sure she is safe, you understand,” Marcus said, not moving.

  “She has not been put the question, if that is your worry,” she said even less sweetly. The smile on her face was less happy and more predatory. “She still lives.” In her gaze, Marcus thought he detected and unsaid, “For the moment.”

  “I’m supposed to believe you?” Marcus asked, quirking an eyebrow again.

  “You will have too. I am offering a single drink to settle things. You and she have guest rights—fully extended and all of that?” Beldine said. “Does that make you feel better?”

  “’Full guest rights?’” Marcus asked. It was an ancient custom, Belters tended to keep some of the very strange and archaic ones. From what he remembered, it meant both he and Harley were part of the Commune family. But, had to abide by the rules and customs of the family as a whole.

  She gave a slight bow. “Full rights.”

  “Release my ship as a sign of good faith,” Marcus said.

  She sighed, studying him for a long moment. She then plucked a small commlink from her robes and said, “Please release the most recent ship acquired from the clamps and have it brought to the main docking bay.”

  “Mother?” A questioning voice came from the commlink.

  “I have spoken,” she said with a harsh bur in her voice.

  “Yes, Mother,” the voice shot back, a quiver of fear in it.

  “Does that meet with your approval?” Mother Beldine asked, giving him a cocked eyebrow.

  “Enough for a drink,” Marcus said with a nod. He had gotten almost what he wanted, which made him a little leery. Could work out though.

  “And, the dagger?” She asked, hand out flat.

  Marcus looked at the blade. “I would feel a little better if I had something that could—”

  “We could return your weapon, though I would ask you to keep the charger out and keep it in the stasis field of you holster,” Mother said, eyes flicking down to his holster and back.

  “Good eye,” Marcus said. He patted his holster and flicked on the stasis generator. It was something he had added when he was on his last trip through the Belt. Belters didn’t like any kind of pulse weapons or slug throwers, preferring daggers and their own strength. It had to do with projectile weapons, even pulse throwers, had a chance of rupturing the thin skins of some colonies. Even the asteroids had weak exterior domes exposed to space. It was a way for Marcus to keep his weapon on him yet would keep these Belters he had to deal with happy. It would act like the old fashion peace bonding of a sword or pistol, taking a moment for it to shut off and for him to pull his weapon free.

  He spun the dagger around and handed her the hilt. She gave him a smirk while gripping it. “Thank you for trusting me with that.”

  “It is more along the lines of not liking blades,” Marcus said. It was not what he liked. It was one of the things he’d never excelled at during his training. To personal. He followed behind Mother Beldine as she walked out of the chamber, finding about ten of her cultist waiting in the corridor. She shooed them away with a hand motion.

  She handed the dagger back to Carmichael who didn’t seem to have ventured far. He gave Marcus a dark glare while slipping the knife away, his hand caressing the cloth wrapping. He turned when Mother Beldine chastised him. He kept his hand on his blade as he backed up amongst those of his brethren that were in the corridor.

  “Do they all have to be so close?” Marcus asked. He was not one to be afraid of enclosed spaces, but there were more than a few people in the corridor and he was unarmed again.

  “My children wish to see me. I promise they will leave you be.”

  “I’d like for them to back off, if you want that drink,” Marcus said, giving her a half smile that was a bit tight.

  She let out a sigh and then waved her hands. She gave Marcus a sidelong glance and then turned and without a word walked down the hallway. Marcus moved to catch up. It was then when Marcus realized he was getting more and more of a rope. What does she want so badly? He then thought about Blues and how they probably had never gotten their hands on something like it.

  “What are the consequences of this drink?”

  “Oh, simply wanting to get to know you a little more, Marcus. I might even see clear to freeing you and your ‘companion’ or stowaway, or whatever you call her.”

  Marcus shook his head. “It’s a long story.”

  “I hope you will share.”

  As he followed, he looked behind him and saw at least seven of the cultists following along, not even trying to hide what they were doing. “Can we get a little privacy?”

  The group sneered, but then Mother Beldine flicked her hands towards her children and they backed up without a word. “I am sorry, I know how it can seem like sometimes those who don’t know our ways and think of this as a cult.”

  I do know your ways, Marcus thought. “I am sorry. I would wish only a bit of food, even a crust of bread?” He asked, hoping that he’d softened his tone enough. He did know that the commune would give food to any guest who asked. And, he was willing to exploit that to try and get something besides protein paste that would be sustaining him for the next few months until he arrived on Europa. If I escape. We…I mean.

  “Of course. Please, come with us.”

  “You said you would at least tell me about the one I arrived with,” Marcus said.

  “She is being held in bit more restrictive area. Her complicated nature makes it harder to keep her restrained like you. She is very safe. Simply a floor below where we are at the moment.”

  Marcus filed the info away. He hoped that she was within range of the small commlink he had. His thumb touched the small unit but couldn’t find a moment to put it in his ear. When the stopped for Mother Beldine to speak to another of her “children” he casually pulled the small thing from his belt and stretched his hands up and then ran his fingers through his hair. With a bit of luck, he slipped the comm piece in.

  Marcus tried not to react hearing, “Marcus, for the love of all things great and small, get me out of here!” Harley screamed into the earpiece, again and again on a loop.

  Chapter Four

  “Marcus, are you around?” A voice shook Marcus from his thoughts as Beldine drones on and on. It was static-y yet he heard her come through. He was thankful they didn’t look at him to closely.

  “It is a lovely place,” Marcus said, knowing he could give away that he heard Harley. “When was it built?”

  “Early in the second expansion era.”

  “Thank you, Marcus,” Beldine said with a small bow. “You honor me with your compliment.”

  Harley said, “Marcus, we need to get out of here. I don’t know how you are in range now. But they might cut this off at any moment. I am being held captive on the maintenance level.””

  “I understand,” Marcus said. He then followed it up as Beldine looked at him oddly, “That your colony is one of the larger ones in this sector on the Belt?”

  “Yes, it is,” Mother Beldine said.

  “Who founded it? Was it always a Commune?” Marcus asked, trying to get his bearing in the tunnels he walked through. It was a uniform grey and white. H only saw number and letter designations on openings in the corridor and at major junctions.

  “It was a mining colony at first. Yet, they started to lose more than they could pull from the surrounding asteroids and sold to my family.”

  Harley cut in, “Marcus, you need to—”

  There was a
grunt of pain and more static, the a whispered, “Please, hurry…” before it seemed to go dead.

  “Amazing. How many levels are there?” Marcus asked, trying to hid the shock on his face that Harley asked for help.

  Mother Beldine gave him a look. “Twenty. Though we only have need for ten at the moment.” She quirked and eyebrow and gave a sigh. She pulled the small commlink from her belt. “Please tighten security protocols for the prisoner.”

  There was another round of static in his ear—much louder. This one caused Marcus to wince a little too hard.

  “I see, so you are able to talk to the your ‘companion?’ I am sorry, but I will have to take that commlink from you. It is for the best.”

  “I would prefer not to,” Marcus said, covering his right ear. “I will have need of it at some point.”

  Beldine ignored him, tapping something on her commlink. There was a blast of high-pitched static, then Marcus felt his ear heat up for a second. Quickly, he snatched the earpiece out, then jerked his hand away to drop the commlink towards the deck. He was able to scoop it up. Even then, the earpiece was hot, and even in his hands he had to keep passing it back and forth from one hand to the other. “Was that necessary?” Marcus asked, glaring at the commlink then at Beldine. It looked fried, yet he thought it might still work.

  Beldine had a smirk on her face. “Perhaps, perhaps not. Come, we will talk inside.”

  Marcus took a tentative step in after her. The first thing he noticed about her office was something on her desk, moving around in a cage about the size of a rat. Inside was something he didn’t expect to see out in the reaches of the Belt. An elephant the size of a rat. The little thing let out a squeaking trumpeting sound when Mother Beldine whisked in ahead Marcus. She gave a little laugh, hurrying to the cage and making little smooching noises and dropping in some treats. “There, there, Jumbo. Momma’s back.”

  Marcus stood there, a little stunned. “What?”

  Without acknowledging she heard him and having seeing to Jumbo was taken care of for the moment, Mother Beldine swayed her way towards a makeshift sideboard of burnish metal. A half dozen bottles, in various states of filled, waited. “How do you know our ways?” Mother asked, pouring Marcus a cup of some kind of red liquid.

  Marcus looked around, surprised to see that they were alone. He looked at her again. “I am surprised they give you any breathing room at all?”

  “They know that this is my personal sanctuary. That only I am allowed in here, unless I allow someone in,” she said, sliding her grey gold eyes over Marcus’ body.

  Marcus moved in closer as Beldine offered the cup. He looked around the furniture was a bit less lavish than he thought the head of a Commune would have. Chrome and burnish metal frames for more of it, grey and white upholstered padding. Even the desktop was an off white. “I expected more color?”

  Beldine ran a hand through the riot of colored braids. “I prefer to wear it,” she said, gesturing to her robes as well. “Still avoiding the question. How did you know to ask for water and food after I gave you guest rights?”

  Marcus moved closer and took the offered cup. “I was born on the Cusp.”

  “Ah, that old spinning colony,” she moved a little closer. “So, is that the only way you know our ways?”

  There was a floral scent that Marcus detected when Beldine was close that he hadn’t before. It was strange and very pleasing.

  “I did drift through the Belt territories more than once as a junkologist.”

  “You mean a scrapper?” She asked with a playful smile.

  Marcus took a deep breath. “Not the same thing.”

  She gave a small head nod. “Forgive me. But I do hope you can tell me where you acquired that beautiful ship.”

  There it is, Marcus thought, she wants Blues.

  There was smirk on her face, “It’s a beauty.”

  Marcus felt a bit flush. “Blues…Junker Blues.”

  She was a beautiful woman, yet he did not want to attempt to get involved with someone with this much power. He knew what would happen if he wasn’t the perfect lover to her every single day. He felt a slight shudder course through him when she looked at him again, her tongue sliding along her lips for a half second.

  “Please, we should have a toast,” she said, lifting her cup again, beaming. “To your Junker Blues.”

  “To the Junker Blues,” Marcus echoed. He tipped back the cup towards his lips, not wanting to take too much at once. The smell was close to cloying sweet. He took a tentative sip. It did taste sweet, and good. He took a longer swig, leaning back against a chair. “This is the real stuff?” She nodded.

  It had been some time since he had had anything besides synth-alcohol and whatever it was felt good going down. He even felt a slight buzz. “What is this?” He mused, looking into his cup and felt a small grin on his face.

  “Sangria,” Mother Beldine said, smiling while moving to get the bottle to fill up her cup.

  “Been some time since I’ve had anything like this,” Marcus said with a smile on his face. “And, to further answer your question earlier, I was once part of another ‘commune’…though I’d call it a cult.” He twisted his lips, not sure why he had said that.

  “Oh?”

  A soft warmth started to suffuse him. “They worshipped the Eridani…those bastards. They pretend to be saviors, but really, they want—wait..” Marcus said, a little confused. He looked at his cup. Realizing what he’d said, he stood up straighter, “Wait—"

  “Well, they are of no concern here, Marcus. I assure you. We see what they did as a good thing, yet they are not of the Divine Plan to be worshipped. The Divine has its own plans for them, and for Humanity.” She moved closer, filling his cup before he could say no. “And your Junker Blues, how did you get possession of such a strange and beautiful craft?”

  Marcus nodded, more of what this place was falling into place. “Ahh, so part of the Turn?” She was so calm, not worried about the wrath of the Eridani. Has to be Inward Turn. “You are the group Collins started?”

  “You know of our founder?”

  “Who doesn’t,” Marcus said, “The scrapper who found a bit of Pre-Crawl data not completely fried and made tons of credits. He then disappeared into the Belt.” He then looked around at the office and then at Mother Beldine. “I didn’t know that he was part of the Turn.”

  “He was not, his wife was,” Mother Beldine said, smiling and looking towards the far wall. One Marcus couldn’t see from where he stood.

  “Wife? Didn’t know Collins found himself a woman.”

  “One of the drifters he hid with when coming to the Belt to hide.” Mother Beldine moved away closer to the far wall, towards a large portrait of a man in a regal pose, looking up and up. “My father was a great man.”

  Marcus had completely missed the painting. What is wrong with me? He mumbled to himself. “I agree he was, to a point,” he said, then wanted to bite his tongue.

  Beldine turned her grey gold eyes towards Marcus, pinning him with a hard glare. “Oh?” She asked, there was a hint of venom, yet she plastered on a pleasant smile. “How so?”

  Be careful, that is her father, Marcus told himself. “He was a con man,” he said. What the slaggin’ hells man!

  “You take that back!” She shrieked, striding towards him, “He was a good man.”

  “All scrappers are con men,” Marcus said not believing what was coming out of his mouth. “I should know.”

  “You’re a scrapper?” She hissed. “I should have you killed.”

  “A junkologist actually,” Marcus said. He gave her a secret smile. “I use logic and deduction. Your father was simply a man who went with his gut and got lucky.”

  “You didn’t know him. He was led by the Divine too—”

  “He lucked out on something,” Marcus interrupted. “He found a piece of tech that everyone wanted, got paid and ran off scared.”

  Beldine looked at him, a snarl on her face. Marcus realiz
ed what he had said, getting lost in the moment. Slag, what in the hell is in this? He thought while looking at the wine in his cup, only the dregs remained.

  “Well…” Mother was silent for a moment. “The Turn helped to show him his ‘true’ path.”

  Marcus felt a spikey tingle of worry. The Inward Turn was a movement long ago on Pre-Crawl Earth. They hated anything not purely human.” There was some unrest when cloning and gene splicing became easy and the norm. Generations ago, they collapsed under their own weight of hatred and self-sabotage. “I thought—"

  “Do not worry, Beldine Commune is not like our forebearers,” Mother said, schooling herself. “They hated more than they celebrated. We celebrate all things. Though there are some, like your friend, that are much harder to save then others. And we don’t look well upon blasphemers,” she said, giving him a vicious look for a moment. “A few of their ideas are part of us. The silly backwards notion of hating things not ‘purely’ human was never a part of it.”

  “I assumed as much,” he said while looking at the micro elephant Mother had already moved towards again, absently stroking its head through the cage. It let out a tiny trumpeting cry and went back to the pool to splash more water on its back. Beldine looked back at Marcus, “Jumbo is a little dear.”

  “Jumbo?” Marcus asked with a small chuckle, “A bit on the nose, huh?”

  There was a wry smile from Mother and Marcus thought he felt some of the tension leave the room. “A joke, yes. But my children love him so.”

  “I am sure.” Marcus said. He heard the cry of a few actual children as they ran down the corridors outside of Mother’s office. “How self-sufficient is the commune?”

  “Very. We do a little trading, but mostly the crafts and a few vegetables to other drifter colonies or random strangers that show up on our door.” She gave Marcus a look and smile. She then took another pull of her wine cup. “Or those who help spread out message.” She looked at Marcus again and there was a strange pull towards her. An odd sensation that he wanted to listen to her nad be closer to her.