Kill Shot: A Remnant of the Commonwealth, Book Two (11 page)

Chapter
14

Aaron left the
Long Shot
via the cargo ramp and stepped out into the crowded streets of the spaceport. Richard was still providing the necessary information to Susan, but Aaron didn’t see any reason to wait around for him to finish. He felt confident that Susan could handle the job better than he could.

He meandered slowly toward
the spaceport exit. There were moving sidewalks that sped along, but they were crowded and he wasn’t in a hurry. He kept an eye on the crowds as they sped past him. Partly it was due to his paranoia, as he always checked to see if anyone was paying him too much attention, but it was also due to his curiosity. He’d seen a lot of strange aliens in his day, but there were always more to see. Occasionally he even spotted one that the computer in his head could not identify; that always tended to give him a thrill.

The sun was starting to go down as Aaron reached the spaceport’s main exit.
The main thoroughfare was overflowing with spacers as they made a circuitous loop of the bars and brothels. The establishments were lit up with neon lights, and loud music and raucous laughter spilled out into the streets. It was definitely going to be a wild party. It would probably be fun for most of the crowd, but there was also a fair number who would be robbed and beaten—a few deaths were even possible.

Aaron had no intention of getting into a barroom fight and forced his way through the packed crowd and out into the streets of Marin Aldabia, the capital city of
Redamor. Redamor was a heavily populated and heavy industrialized world. The population was estimated in the twelve billion range, and the planet produced a truly amazing amount of trade goods. It was one of the crown jewels of the TF Federation.

Aaron’s stomach tightened up at the sight of the line of uniformed police crowding the street. Panic threatened to run through him
, but he got it under control. True, some of the police studied him as exited the spaceport, but they were studying every spacer that left the port. He forced himself to maintain the same slow pace that he had been using since he left the
Long Shot;
he didn’t want to give them any reason to take an interest in him.

Aaron looked about and spotted a long line of robotic taxis off to the left of the exit. He turned that way and got into the small queue. It
wasn’t long until he slipped into the back seat of a small taxi meant for two or less people. He kept his duffel on the seat beside him.

The taxi had no driver but was directed by
an onboard computer. It was infinitely safer than having a sentient being in control.

“What’s your destination?” a computerized voice asked. Most computers had a gender neutral voice, but this one definitely sounded
female. It was probably programmed that way due to all the spacers that caught rides here.

Aaron leaned forward. “I want a nearby hotel. Clean but not too pricey.”

There was a pause and then the computerized voice said, “The Foster has a vacancy—only eighty-four credits per night.”

“Perfect,” Aaron said.

“Name?”

“Aaron Folstom,” he replied, giving an alias. He seriously doubted whether anyone could track down his real name or not. The Commonwealth, or at least what remained of it
, was a long ways away.

There was another brief pause and then the computerized voice said, “Excellent. The room is being held for you. It’s yours as long as you check in within the hour. After that, the room will be available to anyone.”

“Fine,” Aaron said. “Take me there.”

The taxi took off at a slow pace and gradually picked up speed. The area immediately around the port’s exit was primarily warehouses and then offices. These buildings were all closed at this time of the night, but the streets and exteriors of the buildings were well lit.

This section of the city was several miles wide and many more miles long. It was the businesses and industry that needed to be close to the port. It was a common arrangement on many worlds; keeping the factories and warehouses as close as possible to the port facilitated the loading and unloading of goods.

It took several minutes for the taxi to
pass thorough this industrial section and the area gradually changed. First, the warehouses and factories begin to disappear, replaced by more and more office complexes. Then, they crossed a wide, fast-flowing river and entered the residential part of Marin Aldabia.

Immediately on the far side of the river were five or six long streets. These streets were lined with bars and nightclubs
that rather resembled the bars of the spaceport. There weren’t any brothels, probably due to local laws, but Aaron suspected those services would still be available.

The taxi turned down the street second from the left, but the traveling here was much slower. Many drunk spacers wandered through the streets and the taxi kept having to stop.

The sun had completely disappeared and the night was lit up by the bright, neon colors of the nightclubs.

Aaron leaned forward to get a better view of the street. He sincerely hoped his hotel wasn’t in the middle of this mess
. He was sure the noise and lights would keep him up all night.

It took the taxi about ten minutes to go maybe five miles. The streets were still lined with bars, but these were not the gaudy
, neon-covered establishments. Instead, the bars had a quiet, more respectable feel to them. He was quite sure these bars could still get rowdy, but he suspected that was the exception, not the norm.

When they had crossed the river
the streets had been lined with bars, while the bars were still in evidence, more and more hotels were interspersed.

The taxi turned off the street and pulled under the covered driveway of a twenty-story stone and glass building.

“We’ve arrived at your destination,” the computerized voice said.

Aaron quickly paid the fare
, and then slipped out the right side of the taxi. He held his duffel in his right hand and pulled his jacket closer with his left. The night had gotten a good deal colder, and he momentarily wondered if he should have brought a heavier coat. Probably didn’t matter though. With the kind of money he was getting paid to kill Woodson, he could buy all the coats he wanted.

Ignoring the misting rain, Aaron stepped out from under the covered walkway and looked up at the hotel. It had been nice once but that had been a long time ago. The building had an old, rundown look to it.

He sighed and was turning to enter the main entrance, when something pulled him up short. The hairs on his neck stood up straight and he turned back toward the street. There were two bars and a café on the far side of the street. All three establishments had packed tables along the sidewalk.

Aaron scanned the crowd looking for whatever he had sensed. He just caught sight of two couples entering the bar on the right. He got the briefest of glimpses, but he still felt his stomach tighten up. He was fairly sure it was Eric and Thomas, and they were in the company of two wild-looking women.

Aaron turned and walked back under the covered driveway, resisting the impulse to rush—a running man draws the eye even more quickly. Once he was back out of sight, Aaron paused, considering what to do. He peeked back around the corner, looking at the front of the bar on the right, but Eric and Thomas were no longer in sight. Chances were they hadn’t seen him. Even if they had, they were probably more interested in the two women than him.

He stood there for a moment, torn as to what he should do. His
paranoid side was screaming to find a different hotel. After a moment he decided against that particular course of action. He really didn’t think the two wanted to cause him problems, but if they tried then he’d be ready for whatever came.

Aaron cast one more glance in the general direction of the bar then headed though the main entrance of the hotel. The insid
e looked even more rundown than the outside. The walls were an ugly, faded gray and the floor tiles were worn smooth down the middle.

A short hallway opened into a small, rectangular lobby.
There were a couple of old, torn chairs placed haphazardly and a long-dead plant on a small stand. A check-in counter waited for him against the far wall. No one was in sight.

Aaron crossed the lobby and stopped just short of the counter. He glanced over, just to see if the receptionist was bent over out of sight, but there wasn’t a person around. He looked left and then right but
he seemed completely alone. He glanced back down at the counter and noticed the small button with a sign beside it,
Push button for Service.
He obediently reached out and pushed the button and a loud buzzing started somewhere off in the distance.

Aaron glanced around, unsure of which direction the buzzer was coming from. Several moments passed and he got the distinct impression that the receptionist was
not in a hurry. Finally, a door behind the counter opened and a man stepped through. Aaron resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose in disgust.

The man had a diseased look a
bout him. He was short and thin, so thin as to appear anorexic. He was pale and his skin was covered in pockmarks. His eyes were off-white and his few remaining teeth were a dark yellow. “Yeah,” he called out, stopping short of the counter.

“I have a room reserved,” Aaron said. The thought of switching hotels was appealing to him more and more.

The man shuffled his way over to the computer and glance at Aaron. “Name?”

“Aaron Folstom,” Aaron said, giving the alias he was traveling under.

“How long you staying?”

“Ten days,” Aaron said. He could always leave early
, and he didn’t want to leave any clues for the murder investigators to find.

“We require half up front,” the sickly man said.

“Actually, I would rather pay the full amount now,” Aaron said. That should prevent them from actually knowing when he left.

The man’s sickly eyes widened and he smiled a disgusting smile. “Of course.” He motioned to a credit reader on the front of the desk. “Just touch your voucher there and we’re all done.”

Aaron did as instructed and there was a soft beep.

The man handed over a small card, about the same size as the credit voucher. “You’re
in room 714. Sorry, but the elevator’s broken.” He waved off to the right. “Stairs are down there.”

While not happy about having to climb seven flights of stairs, Aaron was immensely relieved to be getting away from the receptionist.

“Hey! Hold on a moment,” the sickly man called as Aaron started down the hall.

Aaron stopped and turned back, resisting the urge to pull the Horace.
Something about this guy just freaked him out. Aaron didn’t say anything, just looked at the guy.

“Uh,” the receptionist began. He took several steps
forward and Aaron backed away. “Listen, if you need anything, you just give me a call. I do mean anything—women, drugs, whatever, just let me know.”

Aaron nodded his head once and then turned away. He walked toward the stairs quickly, not wanting the sickly man to follow him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found the stairwell. He opened the door and stepped inside, pausing only long enough to crane his nec
k around and look up. He sighed; at least he wouldn’t need to worry about exercising.

Aaron took the stairs two at a time all the way to the seventh floor. By the end his legs were burning and he was out of breath. He was pleased that he made it the whole way without stopping. Good thing the stairwell was empty as he probably would have bowled over any pedestrians before he even realized they were there.

He stepped out into the seventh floor hall and glanced around. The hallway was as shabby as the rest of the hotel. There was a dark brown carpet that was fluffy along the sides of the hall and flattened down in the middle. The walls were a dark gray but numerous dents, cracks, and gouges stood out prominently. Lighting was provided by small sconces that were every five feet or so along the wall. Half of the sconces were burnt out, placing the hallway in a perpetual gloominess.

Aaron wrinkled his nose in disgust. He had specifically requested a cheap and
clean
hotel. This place most certainly did not qualify. Hell, Susan wouldn’t even commit suicide in a dump like this. Deciding he should just make the best of it, he turned to the right and began looking for his room.

It didn’t take him long to find room 714. He paused outside the door and took a deep breath. He wished he had changed hotels when the thought had first occurred. He could still do it
, but that would mean talking to the infectious-looking receptionist; he shivered at the very thought. Sighing, Aaron touched the keycard to the reader and pushed the door open.

“Huh,” he said, stopping just inside the door and looking around.

The room was small but in better shape than he would have guessed. To the right was a small, round table with two chairs. On past the table were three windows, but the curtains were closed and he couldn’t see out. Directly in front of the doorway was a queen-sized bed. To his immediate left was a small closet, and the bathroom was a little farther in and to the left. It wasn’t overly spacious, but neither was it the grimy, smelly room he had been expecting.