Chapter 5 - Further Developments

11000 Neptune Apartments

Horizon District, Novaterra, Union of Federated Systems

Sunday, 16 September 3488

            Partash Vess stepped into the narrow elevator, keying the button for the 191st floor. The lift waited a moment for other prospective passengers, but there was nobody else in the lobby as the doors slowly slid closed. The usual hum of the mechanics sprang to life as the elevator started to move, beginning its long ascent from the 30th floor speeder-level entrance. With a sigh, Partash leaned back against the rail, as he let the stress of an entire day of meetings drain from him.

            While he had been hoping to spend the day enjoying the white-sand beaches of Shepard, it hadn’t come as a real surprise when Kran’s Friday-evening order had been issued to cancel weekend plans. The Entente signing was that very week, of course, and Senators Chorrell and Bel weren’t the only two still unsure as to their position. That, combined with the general frustration and exasperation which the situation with Dimas Sethell’s daughter produced – along with other things – had ensured that his vacation would be all-the-more necessarily come the next couple of weeks.

            Partash rubbed his eyes as he considered the latter part of that thought. This mess with Sethell’s daughter had already cost them so much time and, most importantly, the attention of the senator. Sethell had been next to useless for the past week, ducking out of meetings and making long calls to family and friends, checking to see if anyone had been in contact with his daughter. That would perhaps have been less egregious if they didn’t have one of the most important votes of the decade coming up, and if most of their votes weren’t currently tied to Sethell’s involvement.

            Kran may have been the champion of the Entente and primary organizer of the effort to get it re-approved, but it seemed that Sethell had become the natural rallying figure. Partash didn’t get it but was led to understand that something about the senator’s moderating positions and honest personality made him easy to approach. Partash scoffed. A man goes to church once a week, says a couple of nice things, and suddenly people forget that he’s a politician like the rest of them.

            Partash exhaled forcefully, a vague imitation of a chuckle. “These damn Christians.” The word, said aloud to the air, brought with it the image of another nuisance which had stolen his weekend from him: Judith Rigby.

            There was an ancient Parfful proverb that, roughly translated, meant “distance breeds fondness, closeness breeds contempt”, and Partash couldn’t think of anyone who exemplified that better than Judith Rigby. When Kran had come to him with the request to hire someone to investigate the Euphemia Sethell matter, the first person who came to mind had been Judith. The woman was professional, skilled, covert, and – perhaps most importantly – of the proper religious bent to put Sethell’s mind at ease. What Partash had seemed to forget in that time, was how much of a pain it would be to work with her. Kran wanted him to find someone to put Sethell’s mind at ease, perhaps even tell the Senator what he wanted to hear, while perhaps doing little, especially anything that would put the Entente signing into danger. Instead, Partash went and found the exact opposite. Instead of getting a Centauran Treebear – fat, dumb, and happy – he had hired a bloodhound – attentive, intelligent, and inquisitive. If there was indeed a God way up in the stars somewhere, then Partash was sure that this deity had meant Judith Rigby to be his personal penance.

            The elevator stopped suddenly on the 110th floor, opening for a single woman who was standing in one of the sky lobbies of the building. The Human woman – aged skin and graying blonde hair pinning her as perhaps ten or so years older than Partash – stared vacantly into the elevator, before it seemed her brain registered that she could get in. She grinned genially at him from almost-gray eyes, stammering some apology for keeping him waiting. Partash only offered a half-hearted grin in return, not interested in company for the ride up. She stepped into the elevator, took one look at the floor indicator, then found a place in the opposite corner as Partash.

            “Same floor,” She said, meeting his eyes. Partash only nodded, now trying to place the woman for whom his floor was the apparent destination. She dressed about the same as those who lived there – either Senate attire or other expensive clothes of Proximan make – though he couldn’t place her face. With a shrug, he turned his attention elsewhere. Likely a guest of one of his neighbors, no doubt.

            As the elevator continued to zip upward towards his intended destination, Partash’s thinking returned to his previous thoughts, that of his smuggler acquaintance and how frustrating he had forgotten she was to deal with. He had known her for over a decade by that point, having met the then-young woman just before the war had erupted. There had been much more of an edge to her personality back then, when that papist streak was still in its nascent days. She was still closely linked with her past at that point, a dark past in which she had worked as both mercenary and assassin, committing all sorts of acts that Partash was sure would make those Catholic priests blanche if they ever heard.

            Although fearsome, that at least made her intrusive side somewhat more manageable to deal with. The two of them had organized and run many good operations back in those days, she the privateer and he the low-level liaison meant to serve as the go-between with Union forces. Since then she had struck out completely independently with an official Union pardon, and fallen head-first into strange religions and seemed all the more righteous for it. How she managed to trick those black-robed priests into letting her join the fold was anyone’s guess, especially with the impressive body count he knew she had garnered in her previous life.

            As the number on the level indicator neared the 191st floor, Partash prepared to step out. The elevator car stopped with a jolt and the doors opened, revealing the deserted corridor beyond. Partash looked to the older woman standing beside him, who graciously waved for him to exit first. Feeling tired and not particularly in the mood for chivalry that evening, Partash was happy to take her offer and head out. He stepped onto the floor, glad to make it home and shut himself away for a hard day’s rest, when a sudden voice gave him pause.

            “It’s about time you made it up here. Your building must have the slowest elevators this side of the Horizon District.” The voice, instantly familiar, filled Partash with nothing but frustration and contempt. He groaned as he saw his quiet evening slip from his grasp.

            He craned his head to the left, where a small alcove sat just shy of a window, the latter displaying a view of the Novaterra city beyond. The alcove itself was dark on the account of a blown-out light which the building supervisor had yet to replace, but the unmistakable figure of a massive man stood on one side. The man must have been nearly two meters tall, the two bulging arms crossed across his chest and dour expression making him seem almost Krykrid-like in his intensity. Next to the man was the source of the voice, that of a much-smaller figure wearing a long brown trench coat, a wide-brimmed hat atop their head. The figure sat relaxed on one of the three couches which filled the alcove.

            Partash crossed his arms. He should have known better than to assume he was finished with her for the day. “Keeping tabs on me now, Judith? Is this what our relationship has come to?” He didn’t even bother mentioning the secure number she was supposed to have called, not the least bit surprised that she instead decided to do what she wanted. Partash returned his gaze to the elevator door, catching the glint in the pale gray eyes of the older woman as the elevator door slid shut. “I should have remembered what Meera said about your tricky little Quorthwenne companion.”

            Captain Judith Rigby raised her head, locking her blue eyes upon Partash with that expression that mixed conviviality with sharp study, seeming to peer down to his very soul. “If it’s any consolation, you’ve sorely tested young Xanthe’s tenacity. She’s ridden that elevator perhaps fifteen times, waiting for you to arrive.”

            Partash scoffed. It wasn’t any consolation. He took a step closer to Judith, pausing when his eyes fell on that large man again. Unlike his smuggler friend, this bulwark’s face didn’t radiate friendliness. His two close-set brown orbs burned with the look of a bodyguard. “I checked with security downstairs. How did you and your…friend make it up here?”

            Judith cocked her head to one side. “Are you surprised?”

            “Truthfully?” Partash waved it away. “I guess not. Why are you up here, anyway?” He could hazard a few guesses, none of which were particularly pleasant. “Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow, when I’m back in the office?”

            Judith stood to her full height, an inch or two above him. “A teenage girl is missing, Partash. Time is of the essence.”

            Partash nodded exasperatedly. “Sure, right. Of course.”

            The smuggler folded her arms. “Do you mind telling me what is really going on here?”

            “What do you mean ‘really going on’?” Partash asked with a frown. “Euphemia Sethell is missing, and I told you that…”

            “What you told me, was that the girl ran away, and then you tried to bolster your tale with some sort of addendum about security leaks on the senator’s staff. I know you very well, Partash. I know that bit was a bunch of crap.” Judith never broke her cheerful demeanor, but Partash knew those eyes were scanning for any chink in his armor. He didn’t let up.

            “It’s the reality of the situation,” He persisted. “And I’m honestly a bit surprised that you didn’t press Senator Sethell about that at our meeting. It’s not my fault if you’re getting soft in your old age.”

            “Uh-huh.” She replied. “What about the witness from the hearing last week? Would you be able to provide a name?”

            Partash rolled his eyes. “You’ve been sitting up here all afternoon for that? You know I can’t talk about that. Senator Kran’s orders.”

            “Senator Kran isn’t here,” Judith pointed out. “It’s just us.”

            “Doesn’t matter,” Partash insisted. “I have my orders. I know that you just do what you want when you want, but some of us have bosses to listen to.” He let a sly grin appear on his face. She could bluster all she wanted; all he needed to do was deny it, and she would only be wasting her own time. He enjoyed seeing Judith Rigby as the one uninformed for once.

            “I never did play well with authority; you have a point there.” Judith admitted. She had taken a half step forward, which had the added effect of bringing her partially into the light, the brim of her hat keeping her face still in shadow. Nevertheless, the movement also made one edge of her trench coat shift for a moment, revealing the butt of one of what Partash knew to be Rigby’s two twin pistols. A shadow of apprehension seized Partash’s heart for a moment, as he recalled the assassin once known as ‘Starlancer’, and the precision with which she could kill. The moment passed, however, as he remembered what that same assassin had become. “What are you going to do, beat it out of me?” He let out a laugh. “I don’t think that would fly with your religious outlook.” For once, he was thankful to the Catholic Church for defanging one of the most dangerous assassins of their age.

            Judith shrugged. “I didn’t say anything about beating you,” She frowned. “As you so aptly put it, I no longer believe in physical coercion.”

            Partash then appraised Judith’s large companion, still scowling at him from the shadows. “Then you’re going to sic your brute on me, instead?”

            The man spoke for the first time, his voice coming out deep and thick. “He’s really pressing his luck, Captain.”

            Judith just chuckled. “Theck’s opinions on physical coercion mirror mine. Besides, you know I don’t make others do what I wouldn’t do myself.” 

            Then she had no leverage over him, Partash knew. “Then we’re done here.” He said, turning to walk past her and to his apartment. “I’m not saying any more.”

            “Really?” Judith said, not moving an inch. “Can you talk about Nebulaeus?” The words wafted out of the smuggler’s mouth so casually that it took Partash a minute to process what she had said. Once he did, however, the aide froze in his tracks. Fleeting concern flooded through him, as he forced his demeanor to remain casual.

            “Come again?” He called back, not bothering to turn. “I’m not sure I know what that is.” He knew she wasn’t stupid enough to buy that, but Partash needed her to keep talking, in order to glean what she knew on this topic.

            He heard Judith take another step out of the shadows. “You mean you aren’t familiar with Nebulaeus Starliners, the high-end stellar cruise company that received a sizeable bailout package last year? From my information, you bought several thousand shares a week before the legislation went through, then sold for a small fortune when their stock price shot up.” His face still out of view of Judith, Partash bit his lip. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “Are you telling me that was a coincidence? The millions of credits you made came from somewhere else, and not due to you abusing your position?”

            Deciding it best to face her, Partash put on his best politician’s expression and whirled around. He shrugged. “Something like that,” He replied, trying best to figure out how Judith had gotten her hands on information that was supposed to have been destroyed.

            She nodded. “Then I guess you’ll have no problem if I contact the Ministry of Treasury with my findings. I’m sure a full audit won’t turn up anything illegal.”

            Partash beheld the face of the smuggler. He wasn’t sure what annoyed him more about the woman; the fact that she had discovered information on his secret dealings, or that she did so and wasn’t even trying to be smug about it. Unlike a political rival who may have presented the information with the relish of someone who now felt they owned you, what Judith had said was just laid upon him matter-of-factly. He grinned dangerously at her. “Are you trying to play politics, Judith Rigby? I thought you didn’t play petty politics.”

            “There’s a child missing, Partash. I’m playing ‘whatever is going to allow me to get pertinent information before she’s harmed’. That’s the only game I care about.”

            The senate aide held her in that dangerous gaze for a moment or two longer, before relenting on account of what little effect it seemed to have. Judith just continued to look at him, and he was confident she wasn’t bluffing about the Treasury audit. He didn’t know how she had gotten her hands on those documents about his Nebulaeus deal, but he knew well enough that if anyone could find them, she was the one. He sigh, knowing he would need to figure out a way to explain this to Senator Kran. “Come with me,” He said, waving the two down the hall. “I can’t talk about this in the open.”

            He led Judith and her companion Theck down the long hallway, taking the first left. The halls were still empty, which Partash was thankful for. It wouldn’t do for any of his neighbors – many of them senate-affiliated like him – to catch this strange entourage he brought back to his apartment. They finally reached the last apartment on the end, Partash placed his wrist against the door until he heard a click, and the locking mechanism disengaged. The door slid open, and he directed them inside.

            “You’ve done well for yourself these past nine years,” Judith said, once they were inside and she had gotten a good look at the interior. The apartment itself was multi-level, the bulk spread out across the open first floor, while the sleeping accommodations were up in the wide loft which overlooked the main room.

            “You’ve made your point,” Partash grumbled, taking a seat on one of his couches. He reached over to the end-table, where a whiskey decanter was next to several empty glasses. Partash immediately poured himself a generous bit of the alcohol. Turning to his guests, he said: “Would you like a drink?”

            Judith waved a negative. “No thank you.”

            “I’ll take one,” The large man, Theck, replied. He plumped his muscle-bound mass down on a couch next to Judith, the whole seat seeming to groan under his weight. Partash poured and handed the man a glass of the whiskey, Theck’s large hand seeming to make the glass shrink.

            “Okay,” Partash said, after taking a generous sip of his whiskey, the gentle burning in his throat preparing him to deal with whatever information he would be forced to give, lest his career come to a dramatic end. “What do you want to know?”

            Judith removed her hat, placing it down on the empty table beside her. “Let’s start with the closed Senate session. What was the name of the person that Senator Sethell was referring to?”

            Partash took another sip of his whiskey. “Hontaro Deckran.” He said, recoiling at the scolding he knew Kran would be giving him if he ever found out about this. “He’s the senior vice president of research and development with JekWare.”

            “I assume this is in relation to the whole Samatria disaster?”

            Partash chuckled. “Of course. What else do you think? The public practically demanded we hold JekWare to task for this. It’s been several months of non-stop investigations, meetings, and hearings.” All dull and terribly monotonous, he didn’t add.

            “And what have you turned up?” She asked.

            “Honestly, not much,” Partash admitted. “The company followed all of the correct standards, and the targeting systems on the other Consular-class frigates seem to be working without issue. From all that we’ve been able to find – and we practically tore the company apart looking – they’re in the clear.”

            “I’m sure many in the anti-Entente movement won’t be too happy to hear that.”

            Partash shrugged. “Probably not, but we did our part.” No matter what they found, someone would take issue with it.

            “Fair enough,” Judith replied. “So, where does Hontaro Deckran fit in?”

            Partash brought his mind back a week, to the end of that final session with the senior VP. It had been a grueling eight-hour session ending a week of sessions which often stretched into the early hours of the morning. This one wouldn’t have stuck out amidst the countless others if not for what the man had said. “He made an off-handed comment on the last day of questioning that seemed threatening. He said that military contractors like JekWare helped make many of those who were now scrutinizing them, and there would be hell to pay in retribution.”

            “Awfully bold of him to say to a room of senators.” Judith commented. “Especially when his company’s technology had just vaporized a yacht full of civilians.”

            “It was the last of five straight days of hearings, each running well past midnight. I share Senator Kran’s opinion that it was simply an exhausted, hot-headed man running his mouth. After all, we cleared JekWare just a few days after, and their contract is still in effect with the Ministry of War.” Under such circumstances, Partash couldn’t imagine that he would have been any more pleasant.  

            “But Senator Sethell isn’t so sure.” Judith said.

            “He’s concerned, and he’s grasping at phantoms that could explain why his daughter did this. There’s nothing linking Hontaro Deckran to any sort of subversive group or anti-war protesters. It would go against his long, storied career.” Partash replied.

            “I take it you won’t share Deckran’s current whereabouts?” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement.

            Partash shook his head. “Even if I did know, I couldn’t. Like Kran said this morning, we can’t have you interrogating people left and right.” He took another sip. “Are we done here? I told you what you wanted to know.”

            “Not quite,” Judith replied. “You still haven’t answered my original question.”

            “Which was?”

            The smuggler met his gaze. “There’s something about this whole situation which you haven’t told me. What is it?”  

            Partash’s stomach did an uncomfortable summersault. Telling her about Hontaro Deckran was one thing, but if she found out about the other thing… “That’s the second time you said that, and I’m still not sure what you’re getting at.”

            Judith leaned forward. “You’re a decent enough politician Partash, but you’ve never been a very good liar. Euphemia Sethell is missing, yes, but there’s more to this story than you’re telling me. I can read it in your body language, and I can read it in your actions. You’ve set this whole thing up well enough – with the Union Intelligence contact codes and all – but you forget how closely we’ve worked together. Kran’s keeping something about this situation from Sethell, that I know for sure. I’d appreciate it if you told me why.”

            “Or the Ministry of Treasury will be getting your illicit stock dealings,” Theck added, as a reminder.

            Partash grunted. He downed the remainder of his whiskey, then poured another glass. Perhaps he could use the defense of being drunk if Senator Kran ever found out about this. “Okay. Fine. You’re right; there’s a bit more to the story.”

            Rigby nodded knowingly. “Euphemia Sethell was kidnapped, wasn’t she?”

            Partash frowned. Now that would be news to him. “No, not as far as we know. Truly, there’s no evidence beyond the assumption that she went off with a boyfriend like I said. But, there may be a bit more context.”

            If there was any surprise at her off-base guess, the smuggler did well to hide it. “Continue.”

            Partash sigh. “What I haven’t told you and what…Senator Sethell doesn’t know, is that Euphemia isn’t the only child of a senator who is missing.” He expected both to erupt in shock and accuse him of all sorts of malfeasance, but his two guests only looked to each other, Judith’s clear concern met with Theck’s passive expression.

            “Who’s the other?” The former asked.

            “Ranshal Korgwesh, son of Parfful Senator Hanshal Korgwesh.”

            “Huh,” Judith said, thoughtfully. “Senator Korgwesh being another of your boss’s acolytes in the pro-Entente movement, if I remember correctly.”

            “Which, as you could imagine, is why we need to keep these two events under wraps. If either got out – and heaven forbid both did – it would completely decimate whatever support we have left in the Senate.” Partash explained, earnestly trying to drive home the gravity of this situation to his politically inept guests. Theck crossed his arms, his hard expression tightening as he let out an audible grunt of an exhale.

            “What happened to Ranshal? Was the MO similar to Euphemia’s disappearance? Ran off with a significant other and all?” Judith asked.

            “No, which makes the two situations very different.” Partash replied. “As opposed to the rebel Euphemia, Ranshal is a saint. Seventeen-year-old golden boy, on-track to graduate one of the finest private schools in the district at the top of his class, and also on-track to follow in his father’s footsteps. Also unlike Euphemia, Ranshal is very close with his father. I’ve met the boy many times at political functions, and he’s as straight as they come.”

            “When did he disappear?”

            “Almost a week before Euphemia,” Partash continued. “He was politically active like Euphemia, yet his causes were more in-line with Senator Korgwesh. There was a pro-Entente rally the senator was holding, and Ranshal was supposed to join him. The boy never showed, and there hasn’t been a trace of him since.”

            Judith leaned back in the chair, and her eyes began searching around the room. “Are you treating this one as a kidnapping?”

            Partash shook his head. “No ransom, no word. It’s the best guess we have, but I have to be honest. Murder is our working theory.” That was a bit of conjecture which he and Kran kept far from Senator Korgwesh’s ears.

            Judith grimaced. “It’s been nearly two weeks without any word, I’d say that’s a real possibility. Who do you have looking into this?”

            “Like with Euphemia, we have an outside contractor looking into it. I’m sure you remember Meera Trepko?” He knew very well that she did. Trepko had come from the same assassin background as Judith, though without the dramatic religious conversion.

            Judith nodded knowingly. “I should have guessed that you’d use Kran’s favorite mercenary.”

            “You know as well as I that her connections run nearly as deep as yours. Unfortunately, whoever is responsible for this seems to be a ghost.”

            “That’s assuming that it wasn’t some random crime,” Judith said. “If Ranshal was murdered in some sort of mugging gone wrong or something, then there won’t be any network of conspiracy to uncover.”

            “I would have agreed with you, until Euphemia went missing. Like I said there’s no reason to guess that she was kidnapped, as I said, but I admit it certainly begs the question.” Partash replied.

            Judith took a breath. “Then you can’t discount the possibility that she could be dead, too.” It was clear that she took no delight in that thought.

            “Which is why we need you and your crew to find out,” Partash said. “Whatever happened, we need you to solve this.” He paused, then quickly added. “And whatever you might find, please let me know before you go telling Senator Sethell, okay?” He knew she probably wouldn’t listen to that last part but had needed to say it in order to cover his own ass.

            The smuggler was silent for a moment. Theck just sat taking all of the information in, staying as quiet as a rock. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”

            Partash shook his head. “No. And I’m serious, this time. You now know as much as I do. Kran will have a fit if he finds out.”

            “I promise he won’t hear it from me,” Judith stood, suddenly. “I don’t mean to cut our visit short, but there’s a lot we need to do.” Her companion Theck followed suit, his face never leaving that impassive suspicion which he had set upon Partash since they arrived.

            Partash threw up his hands. “You squeeze me dry for information, then split. Why would I expect anything else from you?” At the very least, he would be able to resume his quiet evening.

            “Oh!” Judith paused a moment, some sudden stab of inspiration coming to her. “One other thing I almost forgot,” Partash’s spirits fell, as he imagined what this ‘one more thing’ could be.

            “Yes?” He asked, impatiently.

            “Do you know Eleazar Ravi?”

            Partash squinted at the smuggler. He ran the name through his mind, trying to think of every political contact he knew, none matching that name. Next, he moved onto those adjacent to the world of politics – dignitaries, liaisons, members of special interest groups – but still couldn’t place the name. Finally, he turned to the world she knew well, that of rogues, smugglers, and even assassins, but the name Eleazar Ravi simply meant nothing to him. From the look on Theck’s face, even Judith’s companion didn’t know this one. “No. Should I have?”

            The woman shrugged, the hint of expectation crossing her face. “Since Senator Kran was in the office today, I figured the request may have been kicked up to him.”

            “What request? Is this something related to the Entente?” That was what took up all of Kran’s focus at the present, and Partash couldn’t think of any other reason someone would want to speak with the senator.

            Judith shook her head. “Eleazar Ravi is a rabbi from the Canton District down on the 960 level. He was at Congress Hall this morning, looking to speak with Senator Kreki. I figured that since Senator Kran was in, the request would be forwarded to his office.”

            Partash thought about it. A request from some rabbi down below the surface? It was hardly something which would have even made Kran’s afternoon briefing list, let alone anything they could bother with at this point. “I don’t know anything about that. What’s this about?”

            “He was complaining that a sewer pipe burst into the basement of his synagogue. Apparently, he and his congregation have been shoveling raw sewage out for the past few months, and public works is stonewalling him.” Judith explained.

            Partash grimaced. That sounded positively ghastly. “He’s supposed to call the district overseer for a problem like that.” He replied.

            “I’m not privy to all of the specific details, but I got the impression that he’s been back-and-forth with the district overseer, to no avail.” She explained. “He wanted Senator Kreki to step in and break through the bureaucracy.”

            Partash still wasn’t seeing the point. “Then why are you telling me this?”

            “I want you to get it sorted out for him.”

            The aide blinked, unable to believe his ears. “I beg your pardon?”

            Judith gave him a confused look. “He’s one of Kran’s constituents, and he needs the assistance of his elected representative.”

            Partash scoffed. “If you haven’t forgotten, we have a vote coming up…”

            “It’s just a simple call down to the district, isn’t it?” Judith countered. “Just get public works to fix the pipe. It’ll take maybe a half hour of your busy day.”

            A half an hour, and a whole headache of getting ricochetted from bureaucrat to bureaucrat, Partash thought. “And if I don’t, you’ll go parroting my financial irregularities across the Horizon District, is that it?”

            Judith shook her head. “Just consider this one a personal favor to me.”  

            Partash’s shoulders sagged. He did suppose he owed her for helping him out of more than one scrape, and this time she wasn’t asking him to go behind Kran’s back, so no blackmail required. If this Eleazar Ravi’s request had made it to the senator’s office, then Kran would undoubtedly have set Partash on the task, anyway. “Sure, fine. I’ll help your rabbi.” He sigh. “You’re worse than my ex-wife, you know that?”

            Judith grinned. “Which one?”

            Partash pointed towards the door. “Good night, Judith. I hope you find the girl and she’s alright. I really do.”