Deja Ortega: Oddsbreaker Page 3

  They had just arrived at the café only to find a group of native soldiers escorting a bunch of natives, aliens, and humans out the front door and into two open-bed trucks. Deja and Maizie stood across the street, where a crowd had now formed. As an oddsbreaker, she had no desire to run afoul of the local police. So she was not about to head into the café now.

  “Oh,” Maizie declared. “You is right about that. I wonder what went on in there?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t care to know. What?” Deja asked when Maizie made a small sound. “Do you recognize any of them?”

  “Yes. That shorter Be’Voyan there is my brother,” Maizie said quietly.

  Brother? “But he’s a native,” Deja pointed out. “How is he your brother, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Uh, well, we kinda adopted each other, you see.”

  “Okay. So…you’ve got connections then,” Deja said, looking down at the child with a grin.

  “Yup. Looks like I’ll hafta ask him what happened after his shift rolls up.”

  “Yes. It appears that he came with the team that arrived after things got interesting. I mean, it doesn’t seem like he’s in trouble,” Deja ventured.

  “Nope, he is real good at keeping outta trouble.”

  “I’ll bet. That’s good to know. What’s his name?” Inwardly, Deja wondered why Maizie was still on the streets if her adoptive brother was making good money in the local policing unit. But maybe he had just joined or something. Maybe Maizie didn’t like to be tied down to one place. Well, she’d leave that be for now.

  “Oh, it’s Officer Sef Doljang.”

  “Nice. Well, how about we find somewhere else to get some grub?” Deja proposed.

  “Sure thing, Miss Deja. Let’s go see Pen over at his place.”

  Nodding, Deja was about to turn away when she caught someone watching her. It was a young human male walking out of the café, following the lead of those ahead of him. For some reason, he was staring at her, though he quickly averted his deep-blue eyes. Whoever he was, the stranger was slaggin’ handsome. She could tell he was taller than her. A short-sleeved shirt clung to the defined muscles in his biceps, while a multi-pocketed, tan vest highlighted his slim waist and broad chest. His hair was buzzed short in a military-style cut. Plus, he walked like a fighter, and his somewhat crooked nose added to that impression. Huh. I wonder why he was staring at me.

  Shrugging it off, she turned to follow Maizie, who had started weaving through the crowd, heading east toward the market. Hopefully, Deja’s belly would be nice and full soon. Also, she could use another drink.

  Deja finished eating and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. She’d just devoured a simple but tasty meal of roasted meat and vegetables tossed in noodles with a spicy sauce accompanied by some local wine.

  “Pen,” Deja said, “would you mind sharing your recipe for that delightful dish?”

  The Be’Voyan looked up from his grill, turning some meat on a skewer with an expert movement of his hand. The blue-skinned male laughed, showing his bright yet crooked teeth. “Well, suppose I do. Would you still come visit me shop?” He winked one golden eye at her.

  “Oh, I’m sure you have plenty for me to taste test besides what I just ate,” she said, smiling back. “What do you think, Maizie? Should your friend give me his recipe?” Deja waggled her eyebrows at her young companion, encouraging a yes.

  Maizie giggled. “You’s payin’ me, so I says yes.”

  “Good point,” Deja said. “But that’s the right answer.”

  “Okay then. If you insist,” Pen surrendered. “Come on over.” He motioned for some other customers to move back so Deja could approach. “Just watch while I make the next order.” He returned his attention to the grill as well as the portable stove and workspace he had set up.

  Deja swept her hair back in a ponytail with an elastic and moved around the setup to Pen’s side. Pen commenced showing her how to prepare the meal, starting with what type of meat he had used: yuffa quail. Since her father was a chef, Deja had developed the habit of asking for recipes just about everywhere she went. She had therefore made lots of friends in the culinary field. Additionally, she could pick up on new recipes pretty fast. Papá always said she had a talent for tickling the taste buds.

  As the cooking lesson progressed, Deja asked a few questions here and there, excited to be learning something new. Meanwhile, Maizie sat at a nearby table, munching on the food Deja had bought her and watching with some interest. As soon as they were done here, she wanted Maizie to show her around the marketplace. She’d heard it had quite the variety of goods, including some useful equipment, neat art and jewelry, and decent icewine.

  Geoff checked his PalmStar while he waited for someone to take his statement. A new message from Captain Hunshi awaited him.

  Hunshi: Sorry to hear you got caught up in some local shenanigans at the café. I can’t meet you until later in the day. Could we meet in four hours at the marketplace downtown?

  With a few quick taps on his keypad, Geoff confirmed that he would be happy to meet the captain then. He asked where in the marketplace they should meet. Then he stowed his PalmStar in his vest and sighed. It had been at least an hour and he still hadn’t been debriefed. He began to worry a little as he saw officers having hushed conversations throughout the precinct. Not all of the officers were Be’Voyans, but most were. Tension seemed to be hovering over everyone like a raincloud about to burst. He just didn’t know what was causing that angst. He remembered how the commander had said, “We have other things to be dealing with besides ridiculous brawls.”

  “Excuse me, sir,” Geoff said to a passing officer, “is something wrong?”

  The person in question, a short Be’Voyan who appeared rather young, paused in front of Geoff.

  “We are dealing with a…situation at the moment. But we cannot release any details at this time,” said the Be’Voyan in a level tone. Geoff nodded, knowing the officer was towing a careful line.

  “OK, I understand,” Geoff responded. “Could you tell me how much longer before I can go? I’m just here to make a statement about the altercation at the Red Claw this morning.”

  “Ah, I see. Let me check and get back to you.” The younger alien checked the data pad in his hand. “What’s your name?”

  “Geoff Thorne,” he replied, still deciding to guard his connection to the Coalition. “And may I have your name?”

  “Yes. It’s Officer Sef Doljang. I’ll be back.”

  “Thank you, Officer Doljang. I appreciate it.” And with that, Geoff leaned back in his chair to wait some more, pondering what drama was unfolding on the planet. His thoughts also flitted to the striking young woman he had seen when he was leaving the café. She had beautiful, brown-olive skin and curly, dark hair. He didn’t know why, but she stood out from the small crowd that had assembled on the other side of the street. She seemed to be accompanying a young street urchin with matted, red hair. The woman had glanced at him for a moment before the pair of them moved on. He wondered what she was doing in Ginyo.

  He stopped his pondering when he saw the same young officer approaching. “Mister Thorne,” he said, “we are ready for you now. Come with me.”

  “Wonderful,” said Geoff, standing in one smooth motion.

  He followed Doljang to a back office, weaving back and forth through various desks topped with semi-ancient computers. The commander’s office was a bit cramped, but it made up for it with a more comfortable chair for a guest and vertical privacy blinds on the windows. The young officer stepped into the office as well and stood against the inside wall next to the door. The sergeant who had been at the café earlier sat behind a simple wooden desk. He motioned for Geoff to sit down.

  “Hello, Mister Thorne. My name is Sergeant Yong Chouf. Thank you for waiting while we shuffled through various matters. I trust you weren’t too bored?” The middle-aged Be’Voyan had black hair with a salt-and-pepper look, yet his golden eyes were still bright.
He steepled his hands together, awaiting Geoff’s response.

  “Oh, I found things to occupy myself with. I’m no stranger to waiting,” Geoff said affably.

  “That’s good. Now, can I get your statement in your own words please?”

  “Of course.” He went on to summarize his actions and what he had witnessed, ending with, “And I’m afraid to say I was surprised that your people sided against the Orinkk.”

  Chouf furrowed his brow in irritation. “Yes, that was indeed unfortunate. They will be reprimanded. My apologies for their involvement in all this.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Geoff said with a nod. He admired a person in power who could handle criticism of his underlings—whether or not that criticism was warranted.

  “You’re welcome. Pardon me for asking, but you seem to have some…military training. Am I right?” asked Sergeant Chouf.

  Geoff tried not to sigh. He’d known the line of questioning might go down this route. But he’d answered similar questions on many other worlds. “Well,” he said, “you’re not wrong there. But I’m not here in any capacity for a foreign power. Why do you ask?”

  “Good question, Mr. Thorne. I’m not at liberty to discuss much. But I will say that you should remain alert during your visit here.”

  “I gathered as much,” Geoff said.

  “Ah. I imagine you noticed the anxiety here, trained as you are.”

  “A bit, yeah,” he demurred.

  “No doubt,” nodded the sergeant. “Well, those are all the questions I had for you. Officer Doljang will record your contact information should we need to be in touch. Thank you for your time.”

  “Not a problem, Sergeant Chouf. I hope whatever is going on can be resolved quickly,” Geoff said, getting up from his seat.

  “Our hopes, too,” said the commander.

  “This way, sir.” Sef opened the door for Geoff to exit first. And that was that. Soon, he’d be at the marketplace and meeting up with the ship captain in preparation for his trip. Hopefully nothing else crazy happened between now and then.

  Deja followed Maizie through a crowd and past pushcarts and stalls in the marketplace in a thriving downtown area. Something pulled at Deja’s right sleeve. She yanked her arm back, preparing to throw a punch. But she stopped when she saw a little boy in front of her cowering away.

  “Sorry, missus! I was just wondering if you had a few creds to spare. I wasn’t meaning no harm, I promise.” The boy was a native Be’Voyan, about seven, with dark hair, an upturned nose, grubby clothes, and bare feet.

  Maizie twirled around when she heard the boy speak. “Hey, you. Don’t you be botherin’ my payin’ customer, Rip!”

  “Maizie, it’s okay,” Deja said in a soothing voice. She looked around, making sure no pickpockets were lurking behind her while she talked to the kid. Satisfied, she looked down at the child and smiled. “Rip, is it?” The boy nodded. “Well, I think I can shell out a few creds if you promise to keep all the pickpockets away. Do we have a deal?”

  His gold eyes lit up with admiration. “You got a smart one here, Maizie,” Rip announced. “Sure, I can do that,” he told Deja.

  “Then I’ve got some money to spare. Here you go.” She reached inside her vest and took out a preloaded CredChip. It was enough for him to buy some sandals and a handful of meals.

  The boy reached out his little blue hand and grabbed the small white chip. “Thank you, missus. I won’t let you down!” Then he took off, weaving into the crowd.

  Deja and Maizie went on their way. They walked for another ten minutes before they reached their destination.

  “Ta da!” Maizie pointed at the large stall loaded down with all manner of aquatic gear. “This here is the best place to buy flippers an’ such.” The proprietor was a middle-aged Be’Voyan female with a charming gap between her front teeth and braided, black hair. Deja smiled at the woman, who grinned in return.

  “Hello, Maizie,” said the stall owner. “Who have you brought to me this time?”

  “Kanicha, I brought ya Miss Deja. She’s needing some gear for a dive t’morrow.”

  “Wonderful, Maizie. Nice to meet you, Miss Deja. What are you looking for?”

  “Good to meet you,” Deja replied. “I need the works: A wetsuit, a headlamp, a tank and regulator, some flippers, and a dive knife with a gas cartridge.”

  “Excellent. I can outfit you in no time! Let’s get you measured, and then I can show you some options.”

  “Perfect,” Deja agreed.

  Kanicha took out her measuring tape and started taking Deja’s measurements for the wetsuit. While the shopkeeper was busying herself, Deja looked around at the other booths and pushcarts. Her wandering eyes passed over a tall, muscular figure and then returned back to it.

  The man from outside the café? The one who stared at me. What’s he up to?

  Dressed like a cross between a fisherman and a soldier, the brown-haired man was talking to someone smaller whom Deja couldn’t see from this angle. He stood at a pushcart stocked with some kind of meat pies and fruit. A few moments later, the pushcart vendor handed over a sack of meat pies and a sack of produce to the man. Deja watched as the mystery man squatted down and handed both bags to a small figure in front of him who had previously been obscured. Deja squinted, surprised.

  It’s Rip! That fellow just bought the poor kid at least a week’s worth of food!

  The stranger reached up and ruffled the boy’s dark hair. Rip said what looked like “Thank you” and then darted off with his loot. The large man watched the child go and straightened up. At that moment, Kanicha brought out a heap of wetsuits in her arms. Deja stopped watching the kind gentleman and turned to the store’s proprietor.

  “Here are a few suits that should fit. All are good, but some are extra special,” she said.

  Deja quickly evaluated the merchandise. “Oooh, these are nice. Do you have a place I can try this one on?” Deja asked, picking out a black wetsuit with gray spots.

  “Excellent taste. And, yes, follow me into my shop at the back. There’s a changing room in there.”

  “Maizie,” Deja said, “come with me and help?”

  “Sure,” said the girl.

  Deja slipped past the stall’s table and followed Kanicha into the store, which was small but full of many sorts of goods on shelves and counters. The stall owner walked around to the back and motioned toward a simple changing room with a fabric curtain strung across the opening.

  “Great,” Deja told her. “Maizie, wait here until I need you, okay?” The girl nodded, smiling.

  “I’ll just be right outside watching my stall,” Kanicha said, leaving.

  Deja stepped inside the room and closed the curtain. Stripping down, she then worked to put on the wetsuit, which took quite some effort. The fabric had to be skin-hugging because the suit was meant to insulate the body against the cold water. But, naturally, this quality made a wetsuit rather difficult to put on.

  Oomph. There we go, she thought. She pushed the curtain aside. “Maizie, zip me up, would you?” Deja asked, turning around and crouching down a bit so the child could reach the zipper. Maizie had no trouble with the task. After that, Deja pulled on the gloves. Then the oddsbreaker started stretching and bending, testing the fit of the suit. It fit brilliantly.

  “What do you think, Maizie? Do we have a winner?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said with a grin.

  “My thoughts as well,” Deja announced. “Unzip me now, would you?” That done, she stepped back into the changing room and slid the curtain shut. After a bit of a struggle, she took off the suit and started putting on her own clothes again. Just as she did so, her ears picked up a tremendous racket outside and the entire store shook.

  BOOM!

  Something just blew up! Rushing to lace up her sandals, she heard other sounds: the ratatat-tat-tat of old-fashioned gunfire. And a lot of it. Screaming reached her ears soon after. The shop’s front door opened and slammed shut. Worried that Maizie had go
ne outside, Deja snapped the curtain back and found the child cowering on the floor with her hands to her ears. Grabbing her backpack, Deja knelt down before the girl. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, but what’s goin’ on?” Maizie squeaked.

  “Just stay here,” she instructed. She raced to the shop’s door, where she found Kanicha bleeding from a head wound. Grabbing a child’s T-shirt from a nearby shelf, she pressed it to the woman’s head.

  “Thanks,” the other woman said, wincing.

  “What’s happening?” Deja yelled over the noise.

  “Some religious nut detonated a bomb, and his buddies are shooting up the place!” Kanicha said.

  Oh, great! The oddsbreaker unholstered her blaster and set it to kill. “Do you have a weapon?” she asked Kanicha.

  The Be’Voyan nodded, grabbing a shotgun from under a shelf.

  “Good. You feel like being my backup?”

  “Yeah, fine by me. Gotta protect Maizie and the shop.”

  “Okay, stay behind me and stay low,” Deja ordered through a dry mouth. Her heart rate shot up. She stood and spoke to Maizie. “Get in the back and hide, now!” The kid jumped up and scrambled toward the back.

  Crouching low, Deja and the shopkeeper headed out the door and then kneeled behind the heavy-laden counter. The gunfire was more sporadic now. Deja took a quick peek over the table. A few bodies lay amidst rubble from some of the stores and pushcarts in the street. Other people, most wounded, were trying to escape. The gunfire came from about four hundred yards away where two huge, Be’Voyan males with automatic rifles fired into the crowd.

  She was just about to hustle herself and Kanicha back into the store when she saw him—the mysterious stranger. His bloodied and motionless body was slumped backward over a pushcart. The blast must have taken him out before he could fight back, because he still had a blaster strapped to his right thigh. Gravgummit! Is he alive?