January 22, 2363 AIA

Ionu

Fenn walked into his building. Before he had finished kicking the dust off his boots, he knew something was wrong. Creed was standing by Edsen’s desk. The deputy’s expression was grave.

Edsen stood up. “Sheriff, the admiral’s in your office.” When Fenn didn’t react, the secretary elaborated, “You know—Gloria.”

Fenn crossed over to the desk and put down the packages that were piled on top of the file envelopes cradled in his arms. “Her name is Captain Turay,” he said, flipping through the files so he could run his eyes over each one. “You should call her that.”

“But she prefers Gloria.”

After Jun finished his examination, he put the envelopes on the desk next to the packages. “I know. Do it to annoy her.”

“Is that a good idea, Sheriff?”

“Respect is always a good idea, Edsen. Open up this mess and put them away, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Fenn passed Creed on his way to the office, his deputy muttered, “Do you want me in there, Boss?”

“I don’t think so,” Fenn said. “I don’t need a chaperon. But if you hear screaming, feel free to assume I need backup.”

“Understood.”

Jun made sure his office door was completely closed before turning to face his visitor.

She was standing in the middle of the room, behind a wooden crate large enough to come up to her knees. Her stance was wide, and her arms were crossed. People could argue that beauty was in the eye of the beholder, but everyone agreed Gloria Turay was striking. She’d been known to say that she kept her kinky black hair cropped tight to her scalp so she wouldn’t have to bother with it, but Fenn suspected she was also aware that it emphasized the elegant lines of her face.

“Sheriff Fenn,” she said.

“Good morning, Captain Turay.”

She closed her eyes and waved her head in a sinuous shake to show her disapproval. She didn’t speak again until she had fixed him with her stare. “You can call me Gloria, Sheriff.”

“I could. What can I do for you, Captain?”

She dropped one of her forearms to motion to the crate between them. “My people. They’re so clumsy. Please forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Fenn saw his name and the office address on the scan-label. “What happened?”

“We dropped it on its edge. Right there. You can see the damage.”

“Did you drop it on a crowbar?”

Gloria smiled. “Now why would you ask that, Sheriff?”

Fenn knelt down and touched the splintered wood. “I’m only asking.”

“I could have repackaged it, you know.”

Jun noted the misplaced intonation of her words. When he stood back up, he studied her face.

She went on, “A couple of hammers to get those nails back in place. Maybe a new slat from off another shipment. I wonder if you would have known.” She waited in vain for his reaction, then said, “But I know you’re a stickler for rules, Sheriff, so I ran it right along here to explain it to you and apologize.”

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“Was there anyone else there when my package was dropped?”

Gloria’s eyebrow rose. “There was, Sheriff.”

“Someone from Ashtell?”

She nodded, one slow incline of her head.

The staring contest only ended when Fenn said, “May I offer you a drink, Captain Turay?”

She blinked. “Are you asking me out on a date, Sheriff Fenn?”

“Do you want it to be a date?”

Gloria smiled. “Yes.”

“Then it’s a date.”

Her smile widened. “No, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want it to be.”

“Then it’s not a date.”

The captain’s smile dimmed until it was nothing but a smirk. “Jun Fenn, you’re the only yes-man I know that can take all the pleasure out of bossing people around.”

“That must be very frustrating, Captain.”

“You have no idea.”

“Coffee or beer?”

“Coffee.” After a moment, Gloria said, “Why are you just standing there, Sheriff?”

“I’m waiting to see if you’ll change your mind.”

A grunt of frustration escaped her. “A beer then. I’ll need it to deal with you.”

Fenn went over to the corner of his office where a small set of cupboards were nestled around a beverage cooler. He pulled out a cold beer and opened it as he walked back to her. After handing it off, he returned to the cooler while she sat down in his chair. By the time he’d retrieved a chilled can of coffee and turned around, she’d already put her boots up on his desk. He pulled one of the side chairs closer. While he wasn’t the type to put his feet on the desk, he did lounge deep in his seat.

“You’re taking coffee, Sheriff?” Gloria asked.

“I’m on duty, or it would be a beer.” He took a drink.

“Do you need it to work with me?”

He shook his head as he swallowed. “I prefer it when I’m trying to figure things out.”

“Alcohol and abstract thinking, the eternal couple. What are you trying to figure out, Fenn?”

“You.”

“You’ll let me know if anything comes to you, won’t you?”

“We’re not allies.”

She made a soft tsk noise. “I think you’d arrest me the moment you had enough evidence.”

“You’re correct.”

Turay sighed.

“You know that,” Fenn said, “but you also know that I would have a hard time getting that evidence. That means that you have little to fear from me. Still, I think you’re a bold woman, Turay.”

She tilted her head toward him. “It’s Gloria, Sheriff.”

“But simply because you can do something, doesn’t mean that you’d want to do it. That’s what I have to figure out—what was your motivation? Jealousy? Hatred? Not greed. I can’t see you getting anything out of this.” He looked her in the eyes. “Why, Gloria?”

The captain felt something in her stomach leap when he said her name. She had to look away. That was a cruel trick, Jun Fenn. She pulled her feet off the desk to give herself some time to think.

“Not obedience,” he added. “Not you.”

Her eyes darted over to him, but he was sipping his coffee. His face was inscrutable.

“No,” she said. “Not obedience.”

And for the briefest of moments, she thought she saw the hint of a smile on his face.

She stood up and put the almost untouched beer on top of his tablet. “Sheriff Fenn, sometimes I wonder about you too. But don’t ask me out again. I’m into a lot of things, but I’m not into necrophilia.”

Jun got to his feet. “I understand, Captain. Thank you for taking the trouble to explain things to me.”

“You should know, my next two shipments are going to contain CHE.”

“Then I look forward to seeing you soon.”

“If you’re still around.” She turned away. “I have to get back to check on the rest of the shipments.”

As she crossed the room, Jun said, “Would you like me to see you to the door?”

With her hand on the handle, she said, “I think I can find my way,” and left.

Fenn was wiping the condensation ring off his tablet when Creed came in.

“What did she want?” he asked.

The Sheriff turned his attention to the dust on his desk left by her boots. As he swiped at the mess, he said, “She came to warn us.”

Creed walked over to the crate and lifted the lid. His profanity was only partly masked by the sound of the wood clattering back into place when he dropped it. “So they know?”

“They can guess what we’re thinking of doing, but I doubt they know any details.”

Creed turned around and sat down on the crate with his back to Fenn. “They’re trying to get us to stop.”

“I don’t think so.”

Tyler twisted around so he could watch his boss. Fenn sat down and picked up his coffee. He took a sip before he explained.

“The company doesn’t know what she was doing here. I suspect that they’ve been breaking open our shipments for a long time—”

“Like, since you’ve arrived?”

“Like that. But Captain Turay usually hides it.”

“Why not this time?”

“The glorious admiral doesn’t like corpses. She wants us to know that Ashtell knows.”

“Any changes to the plan, Boss?”

Fenn paused with his drink halfway to his lips. “Can you think of anything to make it safer, Creed?”

The man ruffled his already shaggy hair. His expression was one of painful concentration.

Jun stayed silent to let him think.

Creed eventually admitted, “I can’t, Sheriff.”

“Then no changes.”

Creed was at the door before Fenn stopped him. “Deputy, could you please scour the building again.”

It was all Tyler could do to keep himself from smiling. “Boss, you know there are no insects on this planet.”

Fenn shrugged. “You’re probably right, but I found out all my shipments were getting inspected, and all of a sudden, I’m nervous about bugs.”

“Strange, that.”

“It’s the unaccountability of man, Deputy.”