13 Degrees of Separation (47 page)

Besides,
he may be mercenary in his efforts, but he would serve. Oh yes, he'd serve.
“Find the killers, lead them to justice one way or another. Make sure it's an
air tight case.”

“Of
course,” Nohar growled. He disdainfully groomed his good arm. Kong's cougar bar
maid came over and set a fresh stein down in front of him and then removed the
old  “The case I'm on has dried up again so I am free for the next three weeks.
When do you want me to leave?”

“Right
away,” Solaximara said, nodding.

Nohar
snorted, ears flicking. “I should say, when will your credits clear so I can
get moving?” he asked. He knew better than to move out without getting paid his
advance.

The red
neolion sighed and flicked his ears. He really shouldn't do that, it made the
feather attached to his gold earring in his ear dance. The dangling thing made
Nohar want to rip it out. He fought the urge. Solaximara was a study of
contrasts, one he wasn't sure he ever wanted to puzzle out.

First
he had an elongated thorax, making him seem like he was stretched. The white
belly and chin he could understand, but the red fur? It wasn't a dye job
either, someone in the Neo's past had been changed to red. Possibly a werecat,
a human with more creds than brains who had fallen for a Neocat. It certainly
wasn't a normal Neo, they couldn't see color values very well.

Neo's
had a trade off, in the wild, their ancestors had better night vision, but
little or no color vision. Human geneticists had left that alone, the ability
to see in almost perfect darkness was much more valuable for the first Neo
soldiers after all. Over the centuries though some had altered their eyes
slightly, giving up some of their night vision in favor of some color
perception.

Of
course in the old Federation they got similar results with implants. Implants
better than the one Nohar currently had. His right eye was a prosthetic, one
made for a human, and not a very good one. He'd had to take what he could get,
just like the other barely adequate parts like his right arm, ear, and ribs.
His vision in his right eye barely functioned now after so many years and so
many fights. He hated it, but it was just something he had to put up with. Hank
didn't have the parts or skills to tinker with it. He wasn't too keen about
letting the blue neolion experiment either.

“Leave
immediately. Tonight,” the red neolion urged. Nohar stared at him and rubbed
his right prosthetic arm. He didn't like going off half cocked, that's when bad
things happened. “There was another murder this morning, so the scent should be
fresh.”

“Victim?”
Nohar asked.

“Prostitute.
From what I've been able to pull together most of the victims have been either
prostitutes or homeless. And of course the cops are turning a blind eye to it.
As long as a tourist doesn't get involved...” his voice dropped into a snarl
that wasn't quite all feigned.

Nohar
nodded. “If it has a scent I can track it. I'm not a blood hound though.”

“None
are available,” the neolion admitted. Nohar snorted. It figured that the cat
would try that ploy. “Besides, you're the best. Don't let me down,” he said,
getting up from the booth.

“The
creds?”

Solaximara
handed over a slip of paper. Nohar glanced at it, a bank account. “Take what
you need and no more. I'll cover it. But I want an itemized expense report.”

“Fine,”
Nohar sighed. He hated paperwork like that. It was retaliation he knew,
retaliation for his costs. Many just didn't understand what it took to get the
job done. He'd been in the business for years and he could never quite explain
how to itemize a bribe. Of course it was easier here on Epsilon Triangula, no
one cared.

“I'll
get the ticket,” he said drinking his beer. “Anything else? Useful contact down
south?”

“No,”
the neolion said, shaking his head. “I'm afraid not, the last was just killed
this morning,” he admitted.

“Oh,”
the Neotiger said softly. His good ear flicked, this time in understanding and
sympathy. He understood a little more of the Neolion's reasons, it was
personal. “Let me make a call or two and see if I can drum up some intel, or at
least get the ball rolling there. I'll be on the move in an hour or so,” he
said.

“Red
eye flight leaves in 2 hours,” the red Neo said and then cocked his head
expectantly.

“I'll
be on it,” Nohar grounded out. So much for getting any shut eye tonight. Trying
to sleep on one of those so called aircraft sucked. He could feel the
vibrations of the piston engines through the fuselage, they grated on his
artificial ear. He hated heights too, which meant he'd have to get a sedative
or he'd claw the chair apart every time the aircraft hit turbulence. They
tended to bob and bounce all over the place. He'd wanted to take the morning
train, so much for that idea.

He'd
been in the fabled 501
^st
rangers, he knew marching orders when he heard
them. He nodded again and brushed the whiskers on his good side. “I was going
to try to take a partner on, but I'll have to make due,” he said.

“Just
get it done.”

“And if
it's not a human?”

“I
doubt it is a Neo. No, I'm sure it isn't.”

“But if
it is?”

“We...
we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. That is if we come to it. Don't go
reading anything into it that isn't there.”

“I know
what to do,” Nohar said. Solaximara nodded to the lion as he turned and left
without another word. For a long minute Nohar sat there, hand paws holding the
drink in front of him.

“Need a
refill Nohar?” the cougar asked. He shook his head and downed the drink.
“Sorry,” he said handing the stein to her. “I've got to be sober,” he ground
out, feeling his right arm acting up again. Fortunately the cougar took the
bobbing stein easily.

“Seems
like you've had enough already,” she observed.

“That's
just my arm. Waiting on parts from Hank,” he said.

“He's
up in his room,” the cougar said, rolling her eyes. She put the stein on the
tray he held against her hip. “Going on a trip?”

“Can't
talk about it,” Nohar admitted, paying his tab and giving her the usual tip.
One thing that had easily translated over from the military was OPSEC.
Operational Security. Clients didn't like it when you bragged about your
mission. They preferred anonymity and discreet action.

“Oh
well, if you need anything,” she said airily, already looking at her next
customer.

“I'll
be fine. Tell Jerry I'll look him up when I'm back,” he said getting up. He had
some calls to make, and some intel to gather. “Did you hear anything about
what's going on?”

“You
mean in Gotham?” she asked. He shook his head. She shrugged. “Some crap Hodges
is pulling, the usual.  There's not much else. I haven't heard of anything
unusual,” she said.

“Thanks
anyway,” he said, getting up. He was old, nearly past his prime, but his
implants and training more than made up for that. He'd had the anti geriatric
treatments before the war, he'd been fortunate, he'd been in the army before it
had started. Kids who had signed on during it had been shorted, near the end
few even had the basic ident implants and inoculations.

“Okay,
well, take care,” the cougar said, smiling slightly and flicking her ears.

“What
fun would that be?” he asked, flicking his tail. She turned to swat at it and
he chuckled, leaving.

He held
his right arm to his side, unsure what to do first. He would normally stay in
Kong's and feel up for any intel, but he couldn't because the neolion had
approached him in there. Everyone would know what he was up too, so that was
out. He could check a few other places in town, but what was the point? Hazard
was nearly 2,000 kilometers away from Ring City. The gulf and ring islands were
between the two cities. No, he'd have to go in cold, which sucked.

But
there was something he could do, well several something's. First was check that
bank account out. He wasn't going anywhere until it cleared. After that he'd
have to go get his gear from his locker.

Chapter 2

Nohar
sighed, feeling his claws rake into the upholstery instinctively. He'd shut his
right eye and ear off, but the flight still bothered him. He had to pee badly
but refused to get out of the seat. He knew he couldn't, he was too big to fit
in the damn cubby the humans called a bathroom. He growled slightly, eyes
closed, ears flat.

He
didn't have a seat mate, which was amusing. The female human who'd been there
had wet herself when he'd snarled during a patch of turbulence half way to
their destination. The stewardess had given up her seat to let the girl stay
there. She was standing, holding onto a strap bolted to the air frame. He could
smell her, she had some powerful lilac perfume on, another source for his
discomfort and growing headache. At this rate he was going to be a mess when
they landed. IF they landed he thought.

“We're
in final ladies and gentlemen, third in the landing cue. You will feel some
turbulence again as we bank around in a holding pattern. This is our last bank
so we should be landing momentarily,” the pilot said from the overhead.

Nohar
didn't react, but he did try to retract his claws. He got them almost all the
way in when the plane started to drop. It felt like his stomach was trying to
get into his throat. “I hate flying,” he ground out in a growl.

“Then
why'd you come?” the human behind him asked, moving his leg to bump the seat.
Nohar growled again, not moving.

“Stupid
cat,” another human said.

“Not
stupid, I didn't have a choice. Boss says go you go,” he ground out finally.
That shut them up.

Which
was true, his client said go, and the case was urgent. Urgent enough to risk
his life and limb in this death contraption anyway.

He'd
become a PI because that was just about the only honorable thing for a Neo of
his type could do on this planet. There wasn't a military, and the only mercs
were the two bit hoods the mobsters and gangs employed. You had to be from the
right neighborhood to get in though, and since he was an offworlder, well,
tough luck kitty.

Sure he
could have been a cop, if he'd wanted to stoop that low. Cops were little more
than hired muscle for the gangs in some towns and cities. You just wore a
pretty badge and got to strut more, he thought. He could do it, but he didn't
want it. Too much of a headache.

Besides
he was old, a sleeper. He'd managed to survive the Xeno war after all. He'd
actually lived to the end of it, only to get his damn liner shot out from under
him by a mine of all things. He'd drifted for the centuries until someone had
found him a couple of decades ago. He'd been sold a few times until he'd gotten
on his feet and paid off his debt. Now he was free and intended to stay that
way, beholden to no one! That's right! no one! Free. Free as a bird, even
though his time in space had traumatized him enough to never want to go into space
or be in tight quarters ever again.

Which
was why he was here, trapped on this space forgotten mudball backwater mob
infested excuse for a planet.  Sure, in theory he'd love to be oh, on Kathy's
World with all the other Neo's, or even Antigua, but at least here it was warm.
He had to keep thinking about his declining years. They weren't pretty in a
Neo. Besides, to get to any of those locations he'd need a big pay off... and
he'd have to get the nerve up to get on a ship and spend a year trapped in a flying
coffin. Nope, he would pass on that.

He knew
the fear of heights and of confined spaces was all in his head, he'd had the
training. Psychosomatic transference, Anxiety over being high up, of flying
because of his sleeper trauma. Bullshit. Well, not all bullshit, but some. He'd
always hated being cooped up. He'd take the great outdoors any day.

But
that didn't mean he wanted to be a Luddite like the Neo's on Kathy's World
though. No, he'd take the big city, smells and all over trying to hunt at his
age. He picked leaves out of his coat. Rain, snow... Shit, a squat in the snow
to take a shit, no pass. He liked modern conveniences. Call him spoiled, call
him old, he didn't care, he thought, flicking his ears in wry humor.

He
could feel the aircraft drop its landing gear. Only a few minutes more, he
promised himself, only a few moments more to put up with this crap, this canvas
seat, the smells...

He'd
almost missed the flight, he wished he had. But putting it off would have made
it worse. Hodges's banker hadn't been thrilled about opening up, but their 24/7
promise had to be kept. The threat of waking Hodges to complain had the banker
scurrying to do his job. All it took was a phone call to get the funds moved to
his account. He'd doubled his usual starting rate... now he regretted it. He
should have tripled it. Hell, quadrupled it.

He felt
the bump and skid sounds as the plane hit the ground. He sighed, relaxing
explosively as the plane's tail gear touched the ground and the plane began to
brake.