January 17, 2363 AIA
Ionu
The peacekeepers all knew about the company planets. They also knew that, of all the company planets, Ionu was the worst.
[https://i.imgur.com/6iM8gcI.png]
“Good morning, Sheriff. Have you got the cowboy hat yet?”
“Good afternoon, Commissioner. Have you found Batman?”
“No, but I think I’ve found a joker.” Gordon Norwood watched his screen and waited, but, as usual, Fenn didn’t crack a smile. The man had missed his calling; he could have been the funeral director for a planet of slapstick comedians.
“What can I do for you, sir?”
Norwood’s smirk slid back into the perpetual frown that ruled his face. “Fenn, I have to ask you about some of these numbers.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s this?” Norwood motioned to a tablet on the desk in front of him. They were on different planets, separated by light-years, and the sheriff couldn’t even see the tablet’s screen, but he thought he knew what might be on it.
“My guess—a budget.”
“Wow. It’s like you’re a detective or something.” The commissioner picked up the tablet. “I’ve known you a long time, Sheriff. You’ve always been frugal and intelligent. Can you please explain to me why these new numbers are so high?”
“It’s criminal, sir.”
“Criminal?”
“The cost for transportation tickets off this rock is ridiculous. That’s what happens when you get an unchecked monopoly—”
“I don’t care how ridiculous they are! This is almost enough for you to buy your own runner!”
“I considered it, sir, but I doubt I could get it authorized, and then I’d have to find a pilot willing to come out here—”
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“Why are you buying so many transportation tickets? I know they aren’t for you!”
“Sir, those tickets are for people who’ve been fired by Ashtell.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Fenn, it’s not your responsibility to take care of those people.”
“But it is my responsibility to prevent crime as long as the cost is reasonable and the method proves to be effective.”
“Sheriff, you know damn good and well that won’t hold up for a second. To act on the assumption that those people would turn to crime without evidence or precedent is blatant discrimination.”
“No, sir. I can guarantee each and every one of them would eventually be guilty of a crime, and I’m preventing it.”
“What crime?”
“Littering.”
“Littering? You think that this kind of money is reasonable for keeping a little trash off your roads?”
“This isn’t some misdemeanor, sir. They abandon a large hazardous object that’s difficult and costly to dispose of.”
“Oh, god.” Norwood covered his face with his hand. “Jun, please tell me you are not referring to their bodies—to their own dead bodies—as litter.”
“It’s a real problem, sir.”
When the commissioner heard the quiet statement, he moved his hand so he could look at the screen. Fenn was watching him, his face as placid as ever.
“I know it is.” Norwood sighed. “I’ll sign off on the expenses as you’ve presented them for this quarter. We can pretend that you didn’t know better. But now that you do know better, I can’t let you keep doing it. Do you understand, Sheriff?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And before you get creative and try to exploit another loophole, will you please let me talk to a few people? There might be something we can do.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re a good man, Fenn. I don’t want to see that planet destroy you too.”
Jun saw his superior’s arm cross the screen, then it went black. He stared at his dark reflection for a second before switching his gaze to the barren scene outside his small, slatted window. The grit of the landscape was starting to glow orange as the last of the sunlight poured over it.
That damn orange dirt was the only reason anyone ever came to Ionu—
Tombstone.
Tombstone had been the dark joke of a nickname the peacekeepers had given the place. It was a desert. It had a sheriff. It was practically lawless.
The joke was a lot less funny now.
“Boss?” His deputy, Tyler Creed, stood inside the door, leaning against the frame. Fenn hadn’t heard him come in. “Was that the section commissioner?
“You overheard?”
Creed nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“I knew it wouldn’t last forever.” Fenn stood up. “With anyone else, it wouldn’t have worked at all. We did what we could.” He crossed the small room and stood beside his deputy. “Do you have the information?”
“Yes, sir. I think we have almost everything.”
“What else do we need?”
“A dozen well-trained people to help us.”
Creed was only half kidding, so he didn’t expect his superior to laugh, but the only hint that the sheriff had noticed the humor in his remark was when he returned it with one of his own deadpan lines.
“No luck, Deputy. We’re out of non-industry licenses for the year. If anyone wants to help us, they’ll have to volunteer.”
“No one would be that stupid, sir.”
“You’re right. It’s a good thing we’re paid so well.”
Tyler gave in and laughed.
Jun Fenn usually won their games of wit—which seemed deeply unfair to Creed. He wasn’t sure if his boss even knew he was playing.
Fenn pushed on his deputy’s shoulder to get him out of the doorway. “Let’s go into the conference room. We’ll look over the plans.”