Space Wrangler (4 page)

“Captain?”

“Yeah, go on. Trent took over for the next few years, then he disappeared in the sinkhole. By then, Alexia was what? Twenty-one?”

“Twenty-two. Under the terms of the trust, if Trent died or became otherwise unavailable, she became the trustee. She could have wielded—or delegated—enormous power, but her only goal was to find her brother. Nothing else mattered. She begged David Seaton to put all other projects on the back burner and focus on the search, but he insisted the company was already doing what it could to solve the mystery of the disappearances. If Alexia wanted more, he was willing to help, but only
out
side of Sea-Mont. By creating a new company whose sole purpose was to search for Trent.”

“You're talking about Parameters?” he murmured, remembering how apt the name had seemed to him and to everyone who read
Prince of Geeks
. Setting “creative parameters” for projects and experiments had been Trent's most valued approach. The genius had insisted, time after time, that realistic, creative boundaries were both imperative and lethal. Any project that lacked them was doomed to failure. As were most projects that enforced them too rigorously.

“Yes,” Sensie confirmed. “It would be a nonprofit entity dedicated to finding victims of the sinkhole, as well as preventing further victimization. David Seaton offered to put five million dollars into the company if Alexia matched it. He even stipulated she could have carte blanche to run it as she saw fit.”

“Sounds fair,” Rick mused. “Sea-Mont couldn't really abandon the bio-metal and prototype projects, at least not indefinitely.”

“Except Alexia didn't have sufficient cash. She didn't care about money or power, and would gladly have sold her interest in Sea-Mont, but she wanted to protect Trent's ability to step back into his role as a fifty-percent owner if and when he was found. So she made a deal with Seaton. She would sell him five percent of the company—ten percent of the Montoya share—but only if he agreed to let Trent buy it back the moment he returned. On credit, if necessary.”

“Except Trent was dead, and Seaton damned well knew it,” Rick muttered. “So did TJ. I can't believe that asshole let his father do this to her.”

“According to testimony at the hearing, TJ opposed the whole idea. He even advised Alexia to get her own lawyers. But she was frantic to proceed, and so she waived any conflicts. The new company was formed and she hired a bevy of mathematicians and physicists to find Trent and bring him home. It was futile, but still she persevered, and I believe she found purpose in the enterprise. The problems came two years later, when David Seaton insisted it was time to have Trent declared dead. He claimed it was impossible to run Sea-Mont under such bizarre conditions. Contractors, potential employees, the government and other customers—everyone wanted finality. The fiction that Trent Montoya was alive, while attractive on a nostalgic level, was unsustainable.” Sensie paused, then spoke in a clipped tone. “The courts agreed.”

“What about TJ? Did he take Alexia's side again?”

“He supported his father's decision, claiming Alexia needed closure even more than Sea-Mont did. She viewed that as a betrayal and countered with a lawsuit to recover the five percent interest in Sea-Mont on the grounds that she had been conned.”

“I agree!”

“Except Alexia herself solicited the original deal.”

“She was distraught.”

“Was she? The judges were sympathetic, but pointed out that she was lucid enough to negotiate the so-called condition subsequent: that Trent would regain the lost five percent upon his return. And she waived any conflict in using the company attorneys. All in all, the judges at the hearing and on appeal believed she knew full well what she was doing.”

“Fuck.”

“Indeed, Captain.”

“So…” He leaned forward in his chair. “She controls forty-five percent of Sea-Mont. Is that the equivalent of zero?”

“Yes. She has enormous net worth, but no power to affect decision-making beyond her ability to cause trouble for the company. And she modulates even that, because she sees herself as caretaker for her brother's legacy. Destroying Sea-Mont would ultimately hurt Trent's future in her eyes.”

Rick's brain was beginning to ache. “What about the second company? The one set up to find Trent?”

“It is limping along with no way of generating profit. She squandered most of the initial capital, partly because of the high salaries and sophisticated tech labs, but also by making lavish payments to the relatives of every person ever lost in the sinkhole. She called it
salary replacement
rather than death benefits for obvious reasons, but it was—and is—a drain on resources. And she didn't dare sell more of her Sea-Mont interest for additional funding, so she went to the public for donations, assuming the role of a high-profile activist like her mother once was. But unlike her mother, she has only one cause.”

Rick knew the rest. Alexia had basically heckled David Seaton for three full years, accusing him of mismanagement and of not caring about the loyal employees who had disappeared in the sinkhole. She called upon him, angrily and often, to find Trent Montoya—the company's golden boy—so Sea-Mont could once again be worthy of the exclusive licenses it had been given by the United Nations to govern Destry and exploit its resources.

“Okay.” Rick stood and stretched again. “Tell me why you think she's here. She always said she'd never transit the sinkhole—”

“I suspect she's desperate. Every reputable scientist and mathematician on Earth has abandoned her, and her lay supporters grow weary. Donations are dwindling. And so I believe she will now turn to TJ Seaton, the only person on either side of the sinkhole who shared her affection for Trent. She will ask him to help her find her brother, but with any luck,
he
will help
her
find the truth instead, so she can grieve and move on.”

Rick nodded. “That's what she needs. And TJ seems to genuinely care about her, so maybe he can help.”

“And?” Sensie's tone grew tentative. “Did Alexia seem to care about TJ Seaton?”

“Yeah, she was all over him. Of course, she also wanted to strangle him. True love, right?” Rick chuckled. “Which begs the question, why the fuck am
I
having dinner with them?”

“Because she's an amazing person and she asked you to come.”

He nodded. “She's a Montoya. That's gotta count for something, right? Plus, she's a babe. And if she marries TJ Seaton—”

“She will have the last laugh.”

He grinned. “You've got a mean streak, Sensie. But yeah…she'd
definitely
get the last laugh.”

Chapter Four

As Rick ambled across the platform toward Sea-Mont headquarters, he tried not to notice—or at least not to judge—the artificial nature of the place. The “air”, the “grass”, the “trees”. Did anyone really fall for this stuff? Even the monotonous breeze annoyed him. But of course, he was here for different reasons than the rest of the D-side residents. He intended to make it his home forever, while they couldn't wait for the day they returned to Earth.

He had visited headquarters more than once for contract negotiations in TJ's fourth-floor office, and didn't relish graduating to the guy's personal residence. But when the lobby guard greeted him by name and activated a private elevator to take him to the penthouse, he decided to treat it like another, tamer D-side experience. And at least the guard hadn't tried to confiscate his gun belt and pistols.

Stepping off the elevator into an ornate entry hall with marble floors and a full-sized chandelier, he realized the crux of his problem with TJ. The guy hadn't come here to experience a brave new world, but rather, to turn Destry into New York City. Whereas guys like Rick had intentionally left Earth behind, eager to find independence and frontier adventure, welcoming the isolation, the simplicity and the star-studded nothingness.

Was that hypocritical? Rick was fine with certain trappings of Earth history like the Trading Post and brothel, but those were different, weren't they? The former had a utilitarian purpose, since folks—even
frontier
folks—needed stuff. And men needed women, hence the wise decision to include bio-girls on the platform.

Just thinking about those pretty women made him want to skip dinner completely, but he dutifully knocked on the penthouse door, hoping at the very least that Alexia would appear in a skimpy black dress like the one she'd worn in that Christmas video.

But it was TJ—judge, jury and executioner, all wrapped up in a sweater vest—who answered, ushering Rick into a lavishly decorated apartment. Again, the tributes to Earth were everywhere, from framed watercolors of grassy meadows to holographic representations of blue-green waterfalls. Absurd, since the only water on Destry was in percolating bogs, and the only “meadows” were piles of debris left behind when the previous settlers nuked the whole place into rubble, leaving only one intact, functioning memento of their presence.

The Titans—giant behemoths trudging eternally in circles, unable to be killed thanks to the living metal in their bodies, but also unable to think or to impact their environment.

If Rick could choose one holograph for the walls of his ship, it would depict those hulking robots. In some ways, they had a lot in common with Rick—throwbacks with no purpose other than to keep going. They had been warriors once, but now were simply shells, constantly on the move but without any real destination.

Not that the analogy was perfect. Rick had sworn off relationships with other humans, but he had Sensie, didn't he? And far from being purposeless, he was exploring a wide swath of an alien solar system, soaking up knowledge while honing his skills with bio-metal lariats, blast pistols and thug hunts.

Returning his attention to TJ's residence, he looked beyond the old-world furniture to a wall of windows providing a view of the
real
D-side. Especially now, with the dome lights dimmed, the world was just the way Rick loved it—darkness, stars and adventure.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” TJ was telling him. “Can I take your coat? I've sent the servants away, so I'll be doing the honors myself.”

Rick hesitated, suspecting he was being put in his place. Alexia had asked him to wear the buckskin, but TJ had asked him to wear something
better
—code for more formal, more respectful. So the company president was imposing his will a different way.

Or maybe TJ found Rick's attire intimidating, or was worried Alexia might find it sexually provocative—

Unless of course the guy was just trying to be a good host, and Rick was the one with “a rooster in his pants” to use his grandfather's favorite expression.

Trying not to laugh at any of the possible scenarios, he handed over his jacket and pistols, saying, “Thanks again for the invite.”

TJ placed the belongings on a coat rack. “I was glad to hear you want another contract. There's a paper copy on the table, and the file's been sent to your computer. Sensie, right?”

“Yeah, thanks.” He crossed the room to peruse the six-page document.

“I doubled your usual fee because it's in Sector Fourteen. That's not a problem, is it?”

“I've always wanted to explore out there,” Rick admitted. After scanning the provisions, he glanced around, trying to appear casual. “Alexia's not ready yet?”

“So it seems. Which works for me, since I want to chat privately first.” TJ planted himself in front of a fully-stocked bar. “What did you think of her?”

“Alexia? She's great. A credit to her family.” Wincing at the banal statement, he decided to be blunt. “Most people would have taken their millions and disappeared. But she never gave up on her brother. I admire the loyalty—”

“After five fucking years? That's not loyalty, it's obsession.” TJ poured a generous amount of whisky into a crystal glass and handed it to Rick. “My mission in life is to persuade her to give up the search. Any ideas?”

Rick's backbone straightened. “Are you so sure he's dead? Because otherwise, who am I to tell her she's wrong?”

“Good point. Except Trent himself believed the victims die instantly. Torn apart by cosmic forces right there in the sinkhole. Hopefully without pain, but that's another issue. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Rick downed the drink in one gulp. “So? You and Alexia?”

“You noticed the sexual tension?” TJ chuckled. “It's legendary.” Settling into a leather armchair next to the fireplace, he motioned for Rick to take the opposite seat. “I became an honorary member of the Montoya family when she was just a kid. I wanted to be a second big brother to her, but by the time she was sixteen, she was openly lusting for me. And trust me, it wasn't easy to ignore, since that dynamite body was already emerging. But I was Trent's friend—his brother in a very real sense—so I pretended not to notice.”

What an a-hole…

TJ shrugged as though he'd heard Rick's indictment. “If you could see how she threw herself at me, you wouldn't judge. Anyway, the family went through a lot after that, and I was there to support them. First the mom ran off with another guy. Then she died. Then Roberto died the next year. So when Trent won the Nobel Prize for discovering how to recycle bio-metal, we were on top of the world. Trent, me
and
Lexie. She had just started college, but came home for the party. You should have seen her,” he insisted reverently. “Sexy and legal. And all of us were drinking our weight in cocktails. So I danced with her, and it went crazy fast, to the point where she put her hand down the front of my pants—”

“You know,” Rick interjected, “I don't actually want to hear this crap.”

“But it's relevant,” TJ insisted. “Based on one excellent hand job, Alexia believed we were now a couple. But as soon as I sobered up, I knew it was a mistake and told her so. She was so freaking pissed. Hell hath no fury, right? She ran out of there like her hair was on fire. Trent noticed it and complimented me.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, he figured I had resisted her and thanked me for having such great self-control. Obviously, I couldn't tell him what actually happened, but I did confess I was beginning to find her attractive. And he surprised me by begging me to marry her. He claimed he and Roberto had always dreamed it would happen, knowing she'd be in good hands with me.”

Determined to put an end to the subject, Rick glanced toward the hall leading to bedrooms. “I wonder what's keeping her. Maybe you should check.”

“She isn't here. She opted to stay in the other penthouse. I'm sure she's on her way—”

“Are you saying she's walking across the platform alone?” Rick stood and moved toward the coat rack. “You saw how those assholes were this morning. And the dome lights are already dimmed for the night.”

“She's fine,” TJ assured him. “Let's check the monitors. And remember, those guys
work
for me. I gave them strict instructions not to hassle her.”

“They work for your father, not you,” Rick muttered as he buckled his gun belt.

TJ activated a monitor on a nearby desk. “See? She's right downstairs, gabbing with the night watchman.”

Relieved, Rick joined him and studied the eight-inch display. Her back was to the camera, but he could see she was wearing a tailored black suit, not the sexy dress of his fantasies.

Perfect
, he muttered to himself.
A romantic reunion was bad enough. Now it's turning into a shareholders meeting?

Alexia in a suit, TJ in his black sweater vest and slacks, and Rick in faded jeans. Someone definitely didn't fit in.

“Anyway,” TJ said as though their conversation hadn't been cut short, “back to me and Lexie. I went to her dorm room a few weeks after the incident, intending to make nice. But she was still pissed. I tried every few months. Then it all went to shit.” His voice cracked. “Nineteen seconds—that's how long it took before I knew in my heart we had lost Trent in that goddamned sinkhole. It was almost a blessing when Alexia refused to accept the truth. Otherwise the grief would have destroyed her.”

“So?” Rick's annoyance thawed. “You never really thought he was alive? Not even for the first few days?”

“You mean, while I was conning her out of five percent of the company?” TJ grimaced. “That was the old man, not me. Frankly, I would have forced her to accept the truth from the start. But he convinced me it was kinder to go along with her. To set up the dummy company and pretend to search for Trent. But after two years, we didn't really have a choice. We
had
to declare him dead.” When Rick just stared, TJ explained. “We were procuring licenses from the US and the UN. Recruiting the next generation of brilliant scientists. Leveraging our financing with billionaires and banks. And they all had the same question: Was Trent Montoya gone or not?”

Rick could see how that had put the company—and the Seatons—in a bind. Still, the idea of going to court seemed unnecessarily cruel.

“I knew she'd be upset,” TJ admitted. “But we never could have predicted she'd follow in her mother's traitorous footsteps and fuck everything
her father and brother had built.”

“Geezus, what does her
mothe
r have to do with it?”

“You don't know?” TJ shrugged. “She was a selfish, self-absorbed bitch who didn't care about anyone, not even her own children. At least Lexie cares about someone besides herself—namely Trent. And hopefully
me
. Because I plan on reviving our aborted love affair, which is where you come in.”

“Pardon?”

TJ grinned. “She wanted you here tonight, so fine. You impressed her with the macho rescue from my quote-unquote storm troopers, and now she feels safe when you're around. But I think she made this trip to rekindle the flame, at least subconsciously, and that's what I want too. It may take time, but if it happens tonight, just go away. Got it?”

A knock at the door kept Rick from telling TJ where to stick his rekindled flame. Instead he said, “Wouldn't it be better if I just left?”

“I'm asking you to back me up. You don't want her for yourself, do you?”

“No.”

“So where's the problem? I'm willing to love, honor and make money with her till death us do part.” Dropping the irreverent tone, he added quietly, “She's all I want, Rick. The company, bio-metal, fame and fortune—none of it matters without Lexie to share it with. So do it for
her
, okay?”

Without waiting for Rick's response, he moved toward the entry door. “She can't keep chasing ghosts forever. She deserves a full life, and I'm the guy who can give it to her.”

Rick had prepared himself for disappointment but it proved unnecessary. The Alexia who stepped through the doorway wasn't a business woman in a black suit, but rather, some sort of erotic confection. Sure, her jacket and skirt were traditional, but they faded into nothingness thanks to the filmy layers of foamy white fabric covering her perfect breasts.

It was as if she had spread whipped cream over herself, daring Rick to lick it off. And given the delicate straps holding the whole thing up, he sensed there was no bra to interfere with the feast.

TJ seemed equally mesmerized, although he showed enough sophistication to murmur, “Thanks for coming, Lexie. You look great.”

“Thanks. I still can't believe I'm here. Or
you're
here. With me, I mean.” She flung her arms around her old friend's neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I've thought about this moment for so long.”

“Yeah,” TJ said, his tone still dazed. “Me too.”

Turning to Rick, she smiled playfully. “Hey, cowboy.”

Despite his thick tongue, he managed to murmur, “Nice to see you again, Ms. Montoya.”

“Call me Alexia. And I'll call you Captain, okay?” Flushing, she added quickly, “Because you're the captain of a spaceship, right? Not because of your military history.”

“My military history?” he asked, momentarily confused. Then he realized what she meant and sent TJ a pointed scowl. “Don't believe everything you hear. And just call me Rick, okay?”

To his surprise, she stepped right up to him and reached for his face, soothing his jaw with her fingertips. “I badgered TJ for details about your past. But only so I wouldn't say anything stupid tonight.” With a wry smile, she added, “Mission accomplished, right?”