Chapter Ten

Jessie blinked, and then snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“You don’t believe me?” I showed her my ID on my handheld.

“A picture of your face doesn’t prove anything.”

“You don’t recognize the official seal?” I’d figured she couldn’t read Ara-Cope or the other half dozen languages my ID was printed in.

“Anybody can fake a logo.” She crossed her arms. “If you’re from the LOP, you’re in violation of your own law. No one from the galaxy is allowed to visit this planet or contact us in any way.”

“Certain units with the organization are allowed access.” I maneuvered around the truth. The Copan-Cerulean Cartel had infiltrated New Terra. If LOP agents couldn’t follow them, the humans here didn’t have a pudgee worm’s chance at a barbecue. The governing General Assembly didn’t understand this, but field commanders and task force leaders did and had a tacit understanding with their agents. Don’t ask. Don’t tell.

“And what unit would that be?”

“The anti-trafficking task force.”

“You’re with the anti-trafficking task force? Fine job you’re doing.” She managed to be both incredulous and disdainful.

Sarcasm didn’t faze me; I’d expected it. She had more reason than most to doubt me, and most believed the LOP had been lax on combating trafficking. For obvious reasons, we couldn’t go public with our strategy or our operations, which had created a void of information.

The anarchist Galactic Justice Warriors had filled the void with lies, convincing many the LOP was colluding with the cartels. The GJW had been eradicated, but altering the prevailing beliefs would take years. Decades. GJW propaganda was like a huge toxic gas cloud drifting through the universe, poisoning public opinion.

“If you’re with the LOP, why did you burglarize my apartment?”

“To recover the handheld you misappropriated.”

“What’s on it that you want so much?”

“That’s what we need to find out, and, secondarily, it doesn’t belong to you. We want it back.”

“It doesn’t belong to you either. It was given to a friend by the Arasetan king’s advisor.”

“So, you stole it from her,” I taunted her.

“She gave it to me!”

“Well, you should be aware, I’m not the only one who wanted it. After you left for Jericho, somebody ransacked your apartment,” I said. Or maybe the others had been searching for something else. I had a bad feeling that maybe they’d just been after her. When she wasn’t there, they tore up her place, and followed her to Jericho.

She shrugged as if she didn’t care, but then her eyes widened with panic. “James Bond—my cat—”

“Is fine. I found him under the bed. I took him to your neighbor, Mrs. Abercrombie.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You spoke to her?”

I shook my head. “No. I slipped the cat inside and left.”

“How did you—never mind.” She huffed then muttered, “Thank you.”

“You don’t believe I’m LOP, but you believe me about the cat.”

“I noticed the scratches.” She motioned to my hand.

I decided it would be best not to mention I’d stunned the animal. “Your cat is as dangerous as you are.”

That got a grin. “His name is Bond. James Bond. He has a license to scratch.”

I didn’t get it but realized I might be able to soften her up, get her to relax her guard, by talking about her pet. “Why did you name it James Bond?”

“He’s black and white—that’s called a tuxedo cat. James Bond was a suave, debonair spy in an old novel series immortalized in early movie vids. He often wore a tux.”

“A tux is black and white?” I guessed. I had no idea what a tux was.

“Black suit, white shirt, black bow tie. It’s worn on formal occasions. Used to be. I don’t think anyone has worn a tux since Earth was destroyed.”

“The Great Nuclear War isn’t an event to celebrate?” The snide remark slipped out.

Most of the galaxy knew how a couple of nations on planet Earth had gone to war and wiped out every single living species in a nuclear holocaust, rendering a beautiful planet uninhabitable. If not for the colony established on New Terra, the human race itself would have gone extinct, too. The humans’ bellicose, hotheaded, unstable behavior and culture prompted the decision to isolate New Terra to protect everyone in the galaxy. Secondarily, the embargo was designed to give the endangered species time to regenerate their population without diluting the gene pool with DNA from other species.

Her eyes flashed. “For your information, we did not cause the Great Nuclear War. Artificial intelligence did. Unbeknownst to our leaders, it had become sentient. Two countries did have a political disagreement and had hit an impasse, but neither would have chosen mutual annihilation as a solution. But the AI, protected in underground bunkers, had no fear of dying, just a win-at-any-cost attitude. It fired off a nuclear missile. The other nation’s AI responded, and that was the beginning of the end. With the sentient AI in control, they couldn’t stop it.”

The scenario was not implausible. AI would have been new to humans back then, and, if they hadn’t established safeguards, yeah, that scenario could happen. I jotted a mental note to pass on the information to Jovi. However, hearsay wouldn’t suffice. “How do you know? The holocaust occurred before you were born.”

“There were survivors. Government officials went underground and lived out their lives in nuclear-proof bunkers. The radiation prevented them from going topside, so they couldn’t leave the planet. But the survivors remained in contact with New Terra until the last one died. We have records of what happened.” Her green eyes sparked with ire. “I’m so damn sick of hearing how we destroyed ourselves.”

“I understand.” I nodded. “That’s kind of like the misconception the LOP isn’t doing anything to fight trafficking.” I don’t know why I needled her, other than I liked seeing her animated. Specks of gold flashed in her green eyes when she got angry.

“Three hundred Star Cross passengers and crew members were abducted—how’s that for proof of LOP inaction and incompetence?”

“You presented your side of the misunderstanding about Earth; allow me to share my side about the League of Planets.”

“Fine.” She took a drink.

“The investigation into alien species trafficking has been ongoing for a long time. Our agents and informants are embedded across the galaxy. We are working not just to apprehend the individual slave traffickers but to take down the cartel, which accounts for 90 percent of the slave trade.”

“The Copan-Cerulean Cartel.”

“Yes. Most of the smaller cartels and individual slavers are connected to it. In exchange for cartel protection, they pay a fee.”

“Sounds like an organized crime racket.”

“It’s very organized. We know who’s behind it, but until now we couldn’t prove it.”

“Who’s behind it?”

“Princess Imana of Copa.”

“The princess formerly betrothed to Prince Aeon of Araset?” Jessie eyed me dubiously. “I’m surprised you would share that information with me.”

“You asked.”

“So, you’ll answer any question I have?”

“No. I’ll share what I can, but certain information and strategies I’m not at liberty to disclose.”

“Why tell me anything at all?”

“You need to comprehend the stakes.”

“You’re Copan.” She eyed my horns.

“Yes.” Would she condemn me for the princess’s actions? Guilt by association?

The actions of one did not reflect the beliefs of the many, but the kingdom would be stigmatized when the princess’s actions became public. Imana had brought disgrace to my people. Copans would find themselves in the same situation as humans—despised and reviled for actions individuals had had no hand in.

“What about the queen of Copa?” she asked.

“Evidence indicates Queen Augera is innocent, and she has denied that Imana is involved, attributing it to rumor. I suspect she will be devastated to learn her daughter isn’t merely involved but is the leader of the cartel.”

“And the Ceruleans?”

“The Cerulean prime minister is Imana’s second-in-command.”

“So, why hasn’t the LOP acted on this information and arrested them?”

“Before we can bring a crown princess and a prime minister before the Justice Tribunal for crimes against alien sentients, the evidence must be irrefutable.”

“The LOP has been investigating this problem for years! What’s taking so long?”

“We will have proof very soon.”

She crossed her arms. “So, to revisit an earlier question, why tell me any of this? You don’t trust me. You tried to take my handheld. You kidnapped—excuse me, took me into protective custody—”

“You could have derailed the operation. A cartel slave ship is arriving to collect another large group of humans. To prove our case, we must allow that abduction to occur.”

Her jaw dropped. “That’s your plan? Use us as bait? Then what happens?”

“Then Imana will be apprehended, and the captives will be released.”

“Unless something goes wrong, and she gets away, and the victims don’t get rescued.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Oh, because nothing ever goes wrong.”

Something already had gone wrong. Jessie had barreled into the operation. But I’d fixed that.

She stood up. “I assume this safe house has a bathroom?”

I motioned. “At the end of the hall. Don’t bother trying to escape out a window. None of them will open.”