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# SPDX-FileCopyrightText: 2022 Jason Self <j@jxself.org>
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==== Harlan: Thief ====

Harlan had been sitting on the edge of the roof for the past hour,
waiting for Mellie. She always walked this way after she got off work
and he could keep an eye on her. The streets and especially the alleys
were dangerous away from APD headquarters. This was about as close as
he dared come to the headquarters complex. Too many cameras, too many
infrared imagers seeking live sources.

Those few blocks to the complex were safe, particularly for
detectives. Mellie was one of the best. She could take down four or
five attackers. But sometimes there were more, hiding in the crevasses
of the alleys, crouching behind trash disposals, hanging from second
floor windows. That's why Harlan waited. He would not allow anyone to
harm her.

Dark brown eyes thoughtful, he sucked on a dopestick, peppermint
flavored, while he waited. The mild euphoria helped the time pass. His
sneaker clad feet hung over the edge, three stories up. He glanced up
at the sky where a myriad of stars twinkled in the night. There wasn't
much light pollution since electricity was a precious commodity on
this planet. Neither of the two tiny moons were in the sky tonight.

Rapid footsteps, soft, but firm, came down the alley. Mellie passed
underneath his position as he slid back onto the roof. Her head turned
right to left as her eyes scanned the area on both sides and in front.
She spun suddenly, walking backward, so that she could scrutinize the
section behind her. Harlan hugged the shadows, holding his breath. Her
eyes flicked over him and went on.

Facing forward again, she continued her walk. An Agalderan rodent, a
puvu, which looked a lot more reptilian than mammalian, scurried
across the alley in front of her. She ignored it. The animal turned to
face the human, its shape a little odd. Harlan moved before he
thought, swinging down from the roof to a balcony and from there to
the ground in front of Mellie. He kicked the puvu up through the air,
pivoted, and threw Mellie to the ground, his body covering hers. The
puvu exploded with a loud bang and a hail of nails and staples. Harlan
grunted.

Mellie pushed him off and examined his back. There were several holes
in his tunic, all becoming bloodier by the second. He tried to get up
but didn't make it.

"You complete idiot!" she snapped. "Now what am I going to do with
you?"

"Marry me?" he asked.

She got him to his feet and with an arm draped over her shoulder, they
started down the alley again.

Her condo was on the 36th floor. They could take the elevator to the
35th floor but had to walk up to the 36th. Elevators only stopped
every 5 floors. Harlan was thankful that it was only one floor.

She had a great view from one of the windows. The other windows looked
out on the walls of the adjacent apartment complexes with their myriad
windows. Sometimes a person would appear in one of the windows, but
most of the time, the windows were closed and shaded.

She made Harlan lie down on the sofa and got his shirt off. He had six
holes in the skin of his back. She could see the metal shards sticking
out from three of them. Taking out the shrapnel was punctuated by
swearing and groans from Harlan. She cleaned the wounds and wrapped
his chest. Then she made him a drink.

As she sat beside him, her bright blue eyes evaluated him. She said "I
suppose I should thank you for saving my life. But I'm just so mad at
you for risking your own life and my cover that I can hardly speak."
She took a gulp of her own drink.

He rolled on his side and looked at her. She was staring out over the
lights of the city, avoiding his gaze.

"You have risked everything we've worked for. If I had been killed, it
wouldn't have interfered with the plan. But if someone was watching,
if someone saw your incredible theatrics, they will be adding two and
two and getting 144." Her voice was rising in volume. "You're an
idiot!"

Harlan looked up at her and sighed. "I love you." Gently pushing her
off the sofa, he managed to sit up with a lot of groaning. "There is
no way I could stay on that roof and watch you be blown apart." He
started to pull his bloody shirt back on. "So deal with it."

She took the shirt from him and opened a closet. Pulling out a bag,
she handed it to him. "I bought this for you a while ago. It should
fit you."

He put on the shirt. Looking in a mirror, he nodded. "I have to go.
Thanks for patching me up." He walked to the door. "Oh. You never
answered my question. Will you marry me?"

She threw a pillow at him.

Heading back to the same alley where the explosion took place, he came
to a stop a block away. There were cops all over the place. He took to
the roofs, approaching silently. Lt. Marks, Mellie's boss was standing
by the burn scars on the building. He was speaking softly, but
Harlan's hearing was excellent.

"...know she was here." He waved a hand at the alley. "She came down
from there. She must have been no more than twenty feet from the
explosion. We should be looking at her body. But we aren't." He looked
at his sergeant. "I want to know what happened here and I want to know
tonight. Understand?"

The sergeant nodded with a weary expression on his face and turned
away. "Yessir."

Harlan moved away, heading back to the streets and Emerald Hall.
Santori, the head of the Resistance, needed to know about this. They
might want to pull Mellie back to the Hall. Her cover might be broken.
Mellie was right. The plans of the Resistance for reunification of the
planet were more important than any one life. Except Mellie's.

==== Mellie: Detective ====

Melandra Kaminsky was the lowest of the low on the totem pole of
detectives. At least in Homicide Division. She probably ranked a
little higher than a few in Robbery or Vice. But she was new and young
and had been naive at times. Harlan had helped her claw her way up the
ladder in the department. He was the best man she had ever known.
That's why she had taken Harlan back to her condo. That's why she was
in love with him.

She cursed herself frequently. Why had she picked a damn thief to fall
for? Why not one of the detectives? Because the detectives were a
bunch of crooked, arrogant losers and she hated them, one and all. For
crying out loud, Harlan was the most ethical, moral man she had ever
met. Except for the stealing, of course. He was also the bravest,
smartest, and most impossible human being she knew.

She had run across him when she was part of Robbery Division. He was
supposed to be the best cat burglar in town. He had even robbed the
Mayor! So when she showed up for the weekly, sometimes irregular,
Resistance meeting, she was shocked to see Harlan drinking a mug of
coffee and talking to Santori, the Head of the Resistance, usually
called "Boss". Although she knew there were thieves, even servants and
homeless in the group, she had thought Harlan would think himself
above the petty politics of Agalder.

She cornered him after the meeting and told him that his position in
the Resistance made no difference. She was going to put him away. He
just grinned at her and told her she was free to try. Boss came up to
them at that point and told her that she was to lay off Harlan. He was
too important to the Resistance. Harlan and Mellie both began
complaining that she had to do her job or raise suspicions.

Santori raised his eyebrow and asked "You want her to chase you?"

Harlan grinned "She couldn't catch a hen in a chicken coop."

Mellie had begun yelling at the thief when the "Boss" silently folded
his tents and slipped away. Harlan seemed to enjoy the tirade. When
she slowed down, he commented "You have a hell of a vocabulary." and
walked away. And all she could do was sputter.

She continued to try to trap the thief, but every plan she developed
fell through. She'd see him grinning at her from across the air shafts
between tenements or from the other side of the river.

Then she caught him. Actually he caught her. He was sitting in a
chair, waiting for her when she burst into the apartment. She heard a
click as the door locked behind her. He ignored her gun and poured her
a glass of wine. When she got over being furious, they talked, really
talked, for hours. He let her go after kissing her thoroughly. She
found that she couldn't think of anything else than Harlan, much to
her annoyance.

She dropped her obsession with the thief and started piling up
arrests. Her case clearance rate climbed until it beat everyone
else's. The Mayor gave her a commendation (and groped a feel at the
same time). She appeared to be the darling of the department. And now
somebody wanted her dead.

When her partner, John Behan, a fiftyish balding man with a paunchy
stomach, and two other detectives showed up at her apartment, she
admitted to having been at the site of the explosion. She had come up
with a story that fit the facts although it was a bit farfetched.
Noting the raised eyebrows, she simply told them she'd see them at
headquarters and shoved them out of her apartment. They couldn't
exactly arrest her for not being murdered, so they left.

The next morning, she got to headquarters very early, took the first
case to come in, and got out before day shift showed up. When she
brought in her catch of the day, a wife killer, the other shift had
gone home. She kept this up for several days until her colleagues gave
up trying to pin something on her for not being killed.

Mellie ignored her partner and his buddies. She wasn't part of the
'old boys' network' and never would be. She did her work and did it
well. The Captain seemed to happy with her. And as she walked the
grimy streets of Crater City, she felt a presence at her back and knew
it was Harlan. She also felt the ghosts of the hundreds of thousands
of people who had died on this planet. It was for those uneasy spirits
that she had joined the Resistance. It was for them that she sought
justice.

==== Captain Tavis: Chief, Agalder Police Department (APD) ====

Sam Tavis was an honest cop and had been amazed when he had progressed
up the ranks so rapidly. He had expected his stubborn ethics would
cause trouble and hold him back at some point. But his immediate
superior had been a brilliant man and recognized the importance of
having a totally trustworthy subordinate who could be duped into
thinking that the Crater City Police Department was free of
corruption. That had worked well until the time came when Tavis was
faced with an untenable situation: support his boss or let a dozen
innocent people die. He had saved the potential victims and his boss
had died. The police force was turned inside out to find corrupt cops.
Now he had a good group. He was pretty sure most of them were honest.

He was almost totally certain about Mellie Kaminsky. She was as
straight an arrow as he had ever seen. But there was something she
hadn't told him. Now she was dodging any questions about what happened
in the alley three nights ago. It wasn't like her and he was worried.

He walked the same route she had that night through the safe zone
around the station. He was headed into the dark alleys of Hollowtown,
the area to the west of APD headquarters.

But before the condos sprang upward to the sky, there was a large
open, empty area. Anything that had been there before was gone.

Looking around, he realized that he was in what had been the Gardens
of Callough. He remembered the Gardens, filled with larkspur and
hollyhocks, nasturtium and daisies, with fountains and a little stream
running along the flower beds. There were dozens of flowers from
Earth. There had been some from Agalder as well. The colors had been
overwhelming: reds, blues, yellows, purples, greens, and every vibrant
shade in between. All gone. The area was blasted. Grays and blacks,
dirty browns were the only colors here now. He turned away. It hurt
too much.

There had been voting booths here, too, gaily decorated with the
purple and green of Agalder. He had voted here, voted for Manchester.
She had been by far the best candidate for President of the Republic
and had won in a landslide. And then had been gunned down on the steps
of the Capitol as she was taking the oath of office, along with her
Vice President and dozens of others.

On duty that day, he was standing at the base of the steps, thirty
feet below the President-elect. She had stood straight and tall, proud
to receive the honor. He had seen the guns coming out. How had they
gotten them inside the barricades? He had pulled his weapon and
started firing, already knowing it was too little, too late.

Wounded, he had lain on the steps for hours before someone discovered
that he was still alive. But he hadn't cared. Manchester was dead. He
had heard much of the talk around him from the invaders. The coup had
been a total shock to everyone on the ground. No one, including the
security advisors, had ever heard of the group that took over. Tavis
had learned later that they were a group of itinerant pirates who saw
an opportunity and took it.

Just because they were taken by surprise didn't mean that the people
of Agalder didn't fight back. They fought. And they fought with a fury
and a hatred engendered by the slaughter of Manchester and her people.

The new President wasn't just wildly popular. She represented the
whole history of Agalder. From the lost colony that was almost reduced
to cannibalism before it was found to the exploitation by the Xei
Empire and the rebellion, through the fall of the Empire and the Iron
Wars, until a greatly reduced population on Agalder had banded
together to throw out the remnants of the invaders.

Manchester had come from the lowest class on Agalder. A street orphan,
she had no idea who her people were. But she had understood the
concept of a free society and its ramifications for all the people.
She had educated herself and clawed her way upward. In many ways,
Manchester had been the symbol of freedom on the planet.

Ten years had gone into drawing up a Constitution, delineating the
powers of the government with enough checks and balances to choke a
chaupoo. The temporary government had agreed to step down when
Manchester had taken office. Everything was going so well. And then
the pirates struck. There was a fleet of them. Their soldiers had been
off-loaded on an uninhabited island just off the coast. The first clue
the people of Agalder had was seeing Manchester shot down. Then the
troop carriers had skimmed by overhead. The tanks and JVDs had come
rumbling into the city.

Men, women, children, all had taken whatever weapons were available to
attack the enemy. For a time the pirates were pushed back by the sheer
ferocity of the attacks. The attacks came from everywhere. No pirate
could walk alone in the city unmolested. Children as young as six
would drop from windows with knives and razors, or spades and forks,
whatever could pierce skin, put out an eye, or slit a throat.

But children with box knives and sling shots couldn't defeat trained
men with modern weapons. A lot of people died for nothing, thought
Tavis. Yet the Resistance had persisted, Maybe soon they would take
back the planet before the pirates destroyed it entirely.

The spirit of revolution in the people of Agalder still flamed. But it
had been nearly twelve years since the Pirate Regime had taken over.
That's what Agalder called the usurpers. They called themselves the
Democratic Advisory Council of Agalder. He shook his head. They were
so good at putting their boots on the natives' necks. That was about
the only thing the bastards were good at. Except of course, for their
talent at taking every last cent you earned and their adeptness at
making people they didn't like disappear.

He knew he was crazy to wander these alleys alone, but he had to see
for himself. Garbage was piled high along the sides of the buildings.
Some people just threw their refuse at the disposal openings and
walked away, even if the noisome waste splattered against the side of
the building. The openings to the trash disposals weren't all covered.
He shuddered as he thought what could happen if a child climbed in
there. Kids got into everything, especially when told to stay away. He
remembered his son climbing...

Movement to his right caught his attention and he turned, drawing his
laser gun. A shadow appeared farther down the alley. He had started in
that direction, moving slowly and carefully when the knife entered his
back silently and sliced through his spinal cord. He dropped like a
discarded puppet, regretting that he wouldn't have time to finish his
work. He looked at the shoes next to him as a hand reached over him
and twisted the knife. Then his eyes saw only eternity.

==== Harlan: Thief ====

Harlan was the one who found him. He was heading to his rooftop
guarding position the following morning when he saw the body. Thieves
had made off with his gun, identification, badge, and wallet, but
Harlan knew Sam Tavis. He sat on the ground, legs splayed out, back
against the wall and didn't move for a long time.

Mellie found him in the same position forty minutes later as she
walked to work. At first she thought they both were dead. Then she saw
the tears on Harlan's face. He didn't respond at first when she knelt
beside him. Finally his eyes flicked to hers. He leaned forward and
stood up.

Looking down at her, he said "Put in the call. Don't mention me.
They'll know I was here, but say I was gone when you got here." He
didn't touch her, just turned and fled into the warren of alleys. She
watched him go with eyes that were also brimming with tears.

==== Lt. Marks - Chief of Detectives ====

Looking down at the body of Sam Tavis, Jason Marks felt a deep sorrow.
His naturally dark eyes were even darker than usual. His thinning hair
was blowing in the cold wind that prowled this place. He'd been
expecting this for years. Tavis had been an honest cop. And a stubborn
one. The man had stood up to mafia bosses and leaders of cartels, to
politicians and other cops. He'd never bent. Marks had known this
would happen eventually. There were too many bad guys in the world.

He knelt beside his friend and carefully removed the pendant around
Tavis' neck. The chain was gold as was the rim around the stone, a
dark brown, clear quartz from the Cairngorm Mountains in Scotland on
Earth. He was surprised the thieves who had taken everything else,
including his shoes and tie, hadn't stolen this. But he was glad to
see it. Tavis and he had talked about death and the talisman that he
now held no more than a couple of months ago. Sam had told him to give
it to Mellie in case of his death and to tell her to pass it on to the
one she loved. It belonged to her lover, the captain had said. Her
lover would be next in line, but he refused to say who the man was or
what he was in line for. He did say to pass it on with his blessing
and his love, which confused Marks even more.

Mellie was standing by a carryall, a self-operating vehicle that could
carry either people or cargo. It would carry Sam Tavis to the morgue.

He walked over to her and in a few brief sentences, told her what
Tavis had charged him to do. He gave her the pendant and turned away
to a group of detectives, examining a spot next to the body. The men
were bent over, talking very softly with each other, looking at
recorders that they held in their hands.

"What have you found?" he asked. They looked up and spread out, making
room for him. He realized that Mellie had followed him and noticed
that they did not make enough room for her. He reached back and drew
her into the circle, the others stepping back grudgingly.

John Behan glanced at Mellie, then addressed Marks. "Someone was
sitting here for quite a while. Close to an hour. Didn't move. Just
sat there."

Marks raised an eyebrow. "Do we have an identification?"

"No, sir." another detective said. "But we should be able to come up
with a name within the next couple of hours."

Marks looked at Millie. "Was there anyone here when you arrived?"

She shook her head. "I thought I heard footsteps running off, but by
the time I checked for a pulse, I had no idea which alley to check."

They all looked at the alleys. Five met in a conjunction, making a
space larger than a couple of condos put together. Each of the alleys
led off into darkness, three curving away, two leading straight out.

Alex Biggers slammed his fist into a tossed away piece of sheetrock.
"Why in hell was he down here by himself?"

Marks looked down at his dead friend, then glanced at Mellie. "I want
a name on my desk in the morning." he said as he stomped off down the
alley.

==== John Behan: Detective ====

John Behan used to be the rising star of the Homicide Division. He had
been young, buff, and ambitious. Before Agalder and especially Crater
City had been forcibly returned to the Paleozoic Era, he had been
optimistic about his future. He married a wonderful woman and they had
talked of having children. But then this world, his world, fell apart.
Alys was killed. An accident they said. But she was gone. Nothing left
of her but pictures and memories.

One of those memories crossed his mind and he smiled for just a
moment. Biggers dropped a file in front of him and Alys disappeared
into the recesses at the back of his mind.

Biggers was only in his thirties, while Behan was forty-five now.

"Don't strain yourself with this one, John." he said as he swaggered
off.

The younger guys considered Behan the 'Old Man'. Cocky bastard. he
thought as he opened the file on his computer. The white screen went
black for at least twenty seconds before it stabilized. He grimaced,
mumbling "Piece of crap."

A vid appeared on the screen. A young man with dark hair and dark eyes
looked back over his shoulder as he raced up a fire escape that was
missing several rungs. He practically flew up to the roof. Dressed in
black tunic and jeans, he blended well with the dark building. But
Behan knew that face. Harlan. The thief Mellie had been so obsessed
with - until she wasn't. He wondered what had changed her mind.

On the screen, a drone followed Harlan as he ran across roofs, jumped
between buildings, slid down pipes, and scaled ladders. The drone was
the only cop to keep up with him. Behan wondered why they hadn't
turned loose the robots. Those hounds could have caught him. Of
course, they were likely to tear him apart when they caught him. Maybe
the bosses wanted him alive and undamaged.

The drone dived and tried to hit Harlan on the back of the head.
Harlan, however, wasn't cooperative. He ducked at the last moment and
swung something black. The drone went offline.

Behan leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. That man was just
too smart and too fast. He knew the city well and rarely ventured into
the suburbs. Except that time that he had robbed the Mayor. The thief
had stolen a statuette, reported to have been brought from Earth, a
fat little guy with his belly button showing, sitting cross-legged
with a silly smile on his face. The statue was supposed to be made of
gold with jewels in the little guy's clothes and a big, fat diamond in
his hands. Behan's lips curled upwards. The Mayor had been hopping
mad. But the Mayor was an asshole. Most of the force had thought the
episode funny, especially since Harlan had been so careful not to hurt
anyone.

The Mayor had tripled the security at his mansion. You'd think that
when Harlan returned the statue without tripping any alarms, the Mayor
would be grateful. No. The asshole went berserk. He'd come screaming
into Sam Travis' office and thrown his hat at the Chief. Behan had
been close by and he'd opened the Chief's door, causing the apoplectic
Mayor to turn and stare at him. Behan had ignored the Mayor, asking
the Chief. "Problem, Captain?"

Tavis had grinned. "No. But thanks, John."

Even now, with Tavis gone, that memory brought a feeling of pride.

Biggers came back, a big grin on his face. "I knew it!" he crowed,
waving a fax sheet. "The sitter, the person who spent nearly an hour
sitting next to the Chief's body, was Harlan." He tossed the sheet on
Behan's desk. "I had a feeling that thief was the one. He musta killed
the chief. You think?"

Behan ignored the question. The vibration report definitely identified
Harlan as the individual who had sat, unmoving, next to Sam Tavis. He
spoke without realizing it. "Like he was keeping vigil."

"What?" asked Biggers. "What's a vigil?"

"A time spent in prayer or grief, watching over something or someone."
answered Behan. He stood up.

Biggers backed off. "But why would that punk Harlan keep this vigil
thing over the Chief?"

Behan ignored him as he headed for the door.

He found Melanie at her condo. He could see that she had been crying
when she let him in.

He took off his coat and put it on the couch, then sat beside it.
"Mellie. We've got to talk. It's this Harlan guy, isn't it? You're in
love with him. Are you helping him?"

Mellie's head whipped around and she stared at her partner, face pale,
eyes wide.

Behan watched her. "You know, babe. I've got a lot more experience
catching out liars than you have. You're not particularly good at
this. You lied when you said no one was there when you found Captain
Tavis. Harlan was there."

He stood up, towering over her. "Wasn't he?!" he yelled in her face.

Mellie backed up, looking frightened. Her hand came up to her mouth,
and for a horrible moment, Behan thought she had a suicide pill. But
she was just frightened and he took a deep breath.

His voice dropped to a gentle whisper. "You love him, don't you?"

Her eyes were full of tears as she nodded.

"Why did he sit by the Chief's body for nearly an hour this morning?
And where is he now?" Behan asked.

"I don't know. All I know is that he was sitting by the Chief, holding
his hand, crying. They had some sort of relationship and Harlan
clearly loved him. He saw me and stood up, told me to call for help,
and left. I don't know where he is or where he lives." She walked to
the window, looking out at the city. "I know almost nothing about him
except his beliefs. We've talked about morality and ethics." She
turned back to him. "He's a good man, John. And, yes. I love him."

Behan nodded. "Give him a message for me. Tell him that we need to
talk. Soon. And set it up." He reached out, patted her on the
shoulder, and left.

==== Harlan: Thief ====

He ran the roofs blindly. The world blurred past as the tears kept
coming. He had never felt pain like this and he couldn't outrun it.
His chest was tight and his breath came in short gasps, intermixed
with sobs. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. They hadn't had enough
time together, not nearly enough, not since they had started playing
their parts in this goddamn drama. His father the Chief of Police, he
a common thief. Well, not common. His lips quirked.

It had been nearly nine years since they had been father and son,
except for stolen minutes now and again. Harlan sometimes surprised
his father in the middle of the night, waking him from sleep for a ten
minute chat. Usually scared the hell out of his dad, especially since
the Chief lived on the eighteenth floor. But there was a balcony and
that made it easy for Harlan, although his father never understood.

He reached his home, an abandoned house on the north side of the city.
He had managed to find a bed and a chair and a table. Home was always
a temporary abode. He moved his residence frequently and kept it
simple. Now he sat at the table and stared at a wall, not thinking,
mind totally blank.

It was hours later when he woke up. He had laid his head on the table
and fallen asleep. The pain came crashing back down and he grunted.
But it was time to find out what happened. In a little while he would
sudz, depilate, and change clothes. There were people to visit.

==== Alfie Gallagher: Thief and general all around thug ====

Alfie Gallagher didn't have a lot of friends. Not necessarily because
of his job, his work for the Syndicate. It was mainly because Alfie
was a miserable excuse for a human being. He was a not too bright
psychopath, a man who would have slit his mother's throat for a ten
spot. In fact, he had done exactly that. In addition, he didn't wash
very often.

Sitting alone in the Rusty Blade, a rundown bar not very far from
Harlan's temporary lair, Alfie was surprised when Diego Farley sat
down across from him. Diego was a runner for the Syndicate.

"Cassidy wants to see you." said the slim young man. The violaceous
scar that ruined his right face twitched. "He's got a job for you."

Farley started to rise from his chair, but Alfie grabbed his arm.
"What kind of job?"

Farley yanked his arm away, wiping it on his jacket as if something
dirty had gotten on it. "How should I know? The big ones don't exactly
consult me, now do they?" and he turned away.

Alfie sat for another twenty minutes, then he dropped a coin on the
table and left.

The job was not to his liking. Cassidy was second-in-command to the
Syndicate's Number One, Chas Hawkins. He had given Alfie his
assignment and started back toward the big house when Alfie sputtered
"But how am I gonna kill this guy if nobody knows where he is, where
he lives. Nobody knows nothin'. I need some help."

Cassidy looked back at the unshaven man with hair hanging in his eyes
and the same clothes he'd been wearing for four days. "If you want to
obtain information, take a sudz, clean up, shave, cut your disgusting
hair, and then ask. No one wants to talk to a streetie." and he
disappeared into the crowd.

Alfie cleaned up. He rented a hole at the spaceport where passengers
could sudz and sleep. He had stolen some clothes from the mission
store. When he looked in the mirror after he shaved, he could barely
recognize himself. He even brushed his teeth.

He returned to the big house that served as Hawkins' headquarters here
in the city. He found Cassidy in a large room overlooking what used to
be a rose garden. The blackened plants were being removed by a couple
of men in dark green one piece uniforms. Cassidy glanced at the two
men sitting with him and they stood and left. Alfie sat down across a
small table from the Second. "Okay. Now I'm clean and pretty. Tell
me."

Cassidy's lips quirked. "You can find him two houses down from the
Blind Rat Tavern toward the dock. I think he is holed up in the
attic." He waved dismissal at Alfie, who stood and started toward the
door.

"And, Alfie." Cassidy's voice stopped him. "If you want to be part of
this organization, you will stay clean and pretty."

==== Harlan: Thief ====

The very soft sound of glass breaking far below woke him. He stood up
from the table where he had fallen asleep again. A loose board below
the shuttered window allowed him a small view of the street. His
eyebrows rose. There were at least a dozen black clothed figures
starting to enter the house. They must really want him this time.

He reached over the table and pulled on a cord. A loud crashing
followed by screams and loud cursing came from the first floor as a
large part of the ceiling collapsed. Harlan smiled. He pushed a button
next to the door. More yelling and cursing. A kitchen timer sat on the
table. Harlan set it for three minutes, replaced it, and slipped out a
trap door that led to the roof. He disappeared into the dusk as the
third trap was sprung.

==== Lt. Marks: Chief of Detectives ====

Exasperated wasn't nearly a strong enough word, Jason Marks thought.
Perhaps infuriated would cover it. He stood looking at the filthy,
dust covered, bruised and scraped squad he had sent to pick up Harlan.
They'd gotten his location and put the op together in a hurry. There
was no way the thief could have known they were coming. Yet he had
thwarted them and was gone.

No one was seriously hurt. Harlan was like that, careful. He
apparently didn't want to cause harm to anyone. But he was probably
laughing on his way out the window.

==== Alfie Gallagher: Thief, Apprentice Assassin ====

Alfie got to the house in time to see a squad of the APD Elites going
in the door. He watched for a while and heard the ceiling collapse in
the hallway and the stairs crumple as they started to climb. He had to
grin even as he thought that he might have been the one buried under
the dust and dirt and what passed for spiders and bugs on this world.
A cloud of dust spewed forth from the door and Alfie slid into the
darkness.

==== Mellie: Detective ====

When Mellie opened the door and found Harlan leaning against the wall
outside, eyes swollen and red, she said nothing. She simply took his
arm and brought him inside. After steering him to the couch, she
programmed drinks for both of them and then sat beside him.

"He was your father, wasn't he?" she said softly.

Harlan turned to her, eyes widening. "How did you find out?"

Mellie smiled. "Just a good guess. You look alike in some ways. And
you share his world view."

He looked down into his drink, swirling the liquid around in the
glass. "He was the best man I ever knew. We argued a lot, but he
always kept it friendly, even humorous." His voice broke. "God, I
loved him."

She put her hand on his arm and leaned into him. "I loved him, too. He
helped me so many times."

Harlan turned and gathered her into his arms and they sat that way for
a long time, sharing their grief.

Harlan left early in the morning before dawn. He had to find Santorini
and report. Mellie watched him go, the tears still on her cheeks.

==== Santorini: "Boss" of the Resistance ====

Santorini was still asleep when Harlan bypassed his security detail
and shook him awake.

"What the fuck?!" yelled the Boss. Three guards exploded through the
door, guns raised. They grabbed Harlan and started to hustle him out
of the room when Santorini stopped them.

"But, Boss. He's an intruder. We have to..."

"You have to figure out how he got in here. But leave him alone. He
was just showing off."

The Boss and Harlan watched the disgruntled guards leave before they
spoke.

"How the flaming Hell did you get in here?" Santorini hissed.

Ignoring the question, Harlan continued staring at the door. Silently
he stepped closer and yanked the door open. One of the guards stood,
hunched over, an eavesdropper attached to the wood, extending to his
ears. Harlan tore the device out of the man's ears, eliciting a yell
of pain, ripped it off the wood, and slammed the door in the guard's
face.

He turned to the Boss. "I would change my guard detail if I were you."
he said.

But Santorini was already throwing the door open. The guards were
backing off, blood running from the ears of one.

"Jackson!" he bellowed. In seconds another guard appeared in a
sleepfit, with a dart gun in his hand, two others behind him.

"Take these three into custody. I will question them later." the Boss
snarled and closed the door.

"How?" he asked, looking at Harlan.

"One guard asleep. Another alert but looking in the wrong direction
for a couple seconds too long. And I'm just skinny enough to fit
through the air vents." Harlan shrugged. "It was easy."

Santorini ran his hand through his thinning hair. "You will drive me
crazy eventually."

He stood and walked to the window. He stood looking out for a full
minute. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "I'm so sorry about your
father, Harlan. He wasn't just one of the best men I've ever met, he
was my friend."

He turned and Harlan saw that his eyes were shining with unshed tears.
"Do you have any ideas why he was killed?"

Harlan shook his head. "He certainly had enemies enough. The Syndicate
is probably celebrating tonight because of his death. The Hideout 12
group are another possibility. We may have found their lair, but we
still don't know much about them. We need to take members of that
group alive to gather information. I have heard rumors of the thieves
organizing as well." He frowned and rubbed his hands over his face.
"Something big is going on and I haven't heard anything that lets me
get a handle on it."

He looked at the Boss. "The APD Elites paid me a visit tonight. I got
out only because I had set up the traps."

Santorini smiled. "I heard about that. Apparently Marks came close to
having a stroke when the squad came stumbling back in, bruised and
covered in dust. The Elites are going to have to work a lot in order
to recover their shining reputation."

The two men shared an amused grin.

Harlan sat down on the edge of the bed. There were no chairs in the
room. It was too small. Santorini refused to accept the ostentatious
display of the previous 'Boss'.

"Tell me about the raid on Hideout 12." said Harlan. "Do we know whose
stronghold it was?"

Santorini shook his shaggy head. "There are so many of the survivor
gangs out in the wilds, it could be any one of them. We got lucky.
This group was pretty sophisticated. They carved that place out of the
obsidian formed during the Iron Wars. It means the tunnels wander up
and down and the rooms are odd shapes, but the camouflage is great."

Harlan leaned forward. "Why can't we turn that place into a trap for
the Syndicate? We could drop a few hints about our new fortress where
we keep our arsenal. I bet we could pick up a few Syndicate rats
pretty easily."

The Boss looked down at his hands. "Maybe. The idea has some merit.
Let me think about it."

==== Alfie: Thief, Would-be Assassin ====

Everyone knew the approximate location of the Emerald Palace, the
headquarters for the Resistance. So Alfie just wandered down the
nearest street and set himself up when he had a good view of the
undulating roof.

Three hours later a figure appeared on the roof. Using his monoc,
Alfie could see that it was Harlan. He lined up the shot as the best
of the thieves looked around and then pulled his collar up. Gently,
gently Alfie squeezed the trigger. The ancient sharpshooter rifle
bucked into Alfie's shoulder and spat forth a bullet. The sound was
deafening. Harlan dropped like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

==== Alfie: Thief, Assassin ====

Alfie broke down the rifle and packed it in a bag of groceries. He put
the wig and scarf back on and within three minutes, as the Resistance
fighters poured out onto the street, an overweight grandmother passed
by, staring at them with open curiosity.

When he reached the little trail into the park, he disappeared along a
faint track that led to a clearing. By the time Alfie reached the
clearing, he had discarded his female disguise, turning the raincoat
inside out and ripping off the lower half to form a leather jacket.
His wig turned inside out to become a leather cap and the scarf went
around his neck. The grocery bag and every other scrap of material
went into sacks on either side of an air runner with lots of chrome.
He looked like every other air rider. Totally forgettable. He walked
the machine out to the street, waited until the road was clear both
ways and slipped out of the woods and down the lane unseen.

==== Santorini: Boss of the Resistance ====

Jackson burst into Santorini's office about fifteen minutes after
Harlan left. "Harlan's been shot!" he yelled.

Santorini knocked over the lamp as he rushed from the room. "Where is
he?"

"They're bringing him down from the roof now." was the answer.

The Boss skidded to a stop and turned around, facing Jackson. "Is he
alive?" he asked in a softer voice.

Jackson shook his head, his face somber, saying "I don't know."

Santorini caught up with the medics as they reached the ground floor
and started running down the corridors. The Boss raced alongside.
Harlan had a breathing tube in his pharynx and a machine was assisting
his respirations. His face was almost as pale as the white sheets and
sweat dripped off him. His eyes were closed.

The Boss called out to the head medic. "Mason. Did he say anything?"

Mason didn't slow his pace or turn around. He called out over his
shoulder. "He was unconscious when we got there, Boss. He wasn't even
breathing. Sorry."

Santorini dropped out and watched the group careen around the corner
into the corridor that opened out into the clinic. He stood catching
his breath for a minute and then turned back to his office. Getting
his assistant on his wrist phone, he called for all the surveillance
recordings in the area as well as overhead satellite and traffic cams.
He also ordered teams of investigators, including robot cops, to start
canvassing the neighborhood.

An hour later they found footage of what happened on the roof. But all
they saw was the muzzle flash. They triangulated it and found the spot
the shooter had chosen for the ambush. Vibration evidence was sketchy
since the spot was in a little garden and the plants interfered with
the detectors. However, a preliminary id was consistent with the
readings from a known thief named Alfie Gallagher. The word went out
that the Boss wanted to 'speak' to this Alfie Gallagher.

==== Alfie: Thief ====

Alfie reported to Cassidy after shooting Harlan, but the man wanted
proof of death. Alfie's description of the exceptional thief's demise
wasn't sufficient. Alfie was seething. He stomped out of the big house
and returned to his condo where he threw the wig/cap across the room.
He was furious but not stupid. He wanted to get drunk but knew it
would be counterproductive.

The place to start would be the place he used for the shot, but when
he got close, the area was crawling with Resistance techs. He backed
off quietly and hurried down the hill. The fact that the Resistance
had a forensic team scouring the area where he had been was evidence
in itself that Harlan was dead. He was fairly sure that Cassidy
wouldn't accept that conclusion, but he sent a coded message to the
Second-in-Command.

He worked his way back around the Emerald Palace to a house where he
could watch the activity from a rooftop. Like some other houses still
in use, this one had a makeshift chimney, added when the Iron Wars
destroyed the energy net that had surrounded the planet, Alfie climbed
a lattice slowly and quietly to the roof. He cursed under his breath
as he climbed, muttering. "You'd think they'd make roses thornless
after all these centuries." Then as he pulled up onto the roof, a
slightly louder "Ouch!"

Settling behind the chimney, he put on his monoc and prepared to wait.
The wait was short. In fifteen minutes, a small woman in a forensics
smock walked up to the house and activated the bell. Alfie could hear
voices from below but couldn't make out the words. But the result was
that a man came out of the house with an expanding ladder and leaned
it against the edge of the roof. The ladder flowed upward, gripping
the roof tightly, Alfie heard the woman thank the householder, who
replied that he would be inside if she needed anything. Then there was
silence as the woman climbed up to the roof.

She stood up when she reached the top and began scanning the area with
a high tech binoc. The appliance limited her near vision. Alfie
slipped out of hiding and applied a drug spray gun to her exposed
neck, then eased her down as she lost consciousness.

To Alfie, it seemed that she weighed almost nothing. He threw her over
his shoulder, collected his gear, and carefully walked to the opposite
side of the roof. The roof of the neighboring home was only two meters
away. He threw his gear bag across the gap, then tossed the woman
over. She landed with a heavy 'thunk'. Alarmed by the noise, afraid
that someone heard and would come, he waited several minutes before
crossing over himself. From that roof, he was able to drop down three
feet to a small garden behind the house. Using alleys and back
gardens, he made his way to the edge of the wilderness. Then, having
sent a second message to Cassidy, he sat and waited. Cassidy would
want to talk to the forensics woman.

==== Cassidy: Second-in-Command of the Syndicate ====

The woman was awake when Cassidy got there, shivering and sobbing.
Alfie sat a little away from her, smoking a happy joint. Cassidy got
the information from the woman. Harlan was alive although might die
overnight. He glared at Alfie.

"Yer not doin' so good. Two tries and you miss both times."

Alfie got to his feet. "I didn't miss him. I shot him." He motioned at
the terrified woman. "You heard what she said. He's expected to die
tonight."

"Yeah. I heard what she said." said Cassidy. "He's alive." He leaned
forward and grabbed Alfie's lapels. "I want you to rectify that
condition."

He stood up and threw the woman over his shoulder. He started back
toward the city, talking around his captive. "You hear me, Alfie? Last
chance. Make him dead by midnight."

Alfie yelled "Whatcha gonna do with that woman?"

"I'm going to take her to her home and dump her outside. She'll be
able to get out of her ties in a while."

"You ain't gonna kill her?"

Exasperated, Cassidy turned around. "No. I'm not going to kill her and
I'm not leaving her here with you either. You'd just slit her throat."

"But she's seen us. She heard what we said. She needs to be dead."

Cassidy stared at the thug for a minute. "Perhaps you're right. But I
am not going to kill some innocent woman just because she was in the
wrong place at the wrong time."

Alfie sputtered. "But..but you'll order a hit on Harlan? He's a nice
guy."

Cassidy sighed "I am not going to stand here and debate philosophy
with you. Suffice it to say that I think Harlan is a spy working for
the cops. He's a traitor. He's not an innocent. Now goodnight." He
trudged off.

Alfie stared after him, speechless.

==== Mellie: Detective ====

The door announced another visitor. Mellie checked the viewer.
Santorini! He never came here. She pulled the door open and yanked him
inside.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. Then she noticed how pale his
face was and the sadness in his eyes. "What happened?"

"It's Harlan. He's been shot."

"Is he alive?"

"For the moment." The Boss looked around the condo, not really seeing
it, just trying to avoid Mellie's gaze. "The surgeons don't expect him
to live through the night." He dropped his eyes then to look at her as
she backed away, hand over her mouth. "Get your coat. You'll want to
be with him."

She grabbed a jacket and attached her bag to the sticker on her skirt,
picked up her gun, and ran out the door, locking it with a word.

Santorini had brought a skimmer, a small air-borne vehicle that could
skim over the roofs. They arrived at the Emerald Palace in five
minutes, leaving Mellie a bit nauseous and white-knuckled. They got to
Harlan's room only to find that he had been taken back to surgery..
The bleeding had started again.

They waited. Mellie's tired mind wandered, conjuring scenes from the
time she was chasing Harlan to love scenes. She slipped into a doze,
then woke when the Boss shook her.

The surgeon was coming down the hall. His face was serious, she felt,
but not stony hard.

The surgeon looked at her and then with raised eyebrows he turned his
gaze to the Boss.

"She's one of us." Said Santorini.

The surgeon nodded. "He's still alive and somewhat stable now.
Survival is going to be up to him. It all depends on how tough he is
and how much he wants to live. Right now he's hanging by a thread."

Hours passed as she sat by his bedside. Santorini had disappeared when
an aide came to whisper in his ear. She held Harlan's hand and talked
to him, telling him things she had never told anyone. Her mind was
still wandering and she talked about playing with colored glass beads
when she was a little girl and how she loved the way the sunlight made
the colors zing. She jumped to a party at college where she had
literally had to fight to get away from a couple of guys who wanted to
'play' with her.

Crying, she revealed her deepest feelings when her mother had died and
her anger at her father who retreated into a fog of drugs to bury his
pain. She had been eleven. Then he died and she had been alone except
for a scruffy old cat who bit her. She spoke of hiding the fact that
her parents were dead from the school. Getting up every morning, she'd
feed the cat and go to school. At night she did her homework and
studied. Sometimes she watched the vid-tube, but mostly she read.

Eventually the school found out when she wasn't able to pay the bills.
She'd been hustled off to a foster home. There were lots of those
these days with all the orphans from the war. She told Harlan about
the kids she'd lived with then and how she couldn't stop crying
because she had lost the old cat.

Her voice became hoarse, but she felt that her words were keeping him
alive. So she talked and recited poetry, told him stories, and sang to
him softly. Fatigue finally won out against determination and she
slept with her head on the bed, next to his hand.

==== Harlan: Thief ====

He drifted up and down. Sometimes he felt pain, but most of the time
he just rode on a sea in the darkness and listened to the voice. Each
time he started getting too far away, the voice would draw him back.
He heard the words but didn't understand much of what it said. Then
came songs and that was wonderful, too. Eventually the voice stopped.
He lay on his back, waiting for the voice, but it didn't come back. He
decided to go find it.

The first sensation he had was the feel of breathing on his left hand.
He moved the hand toward the breaths and felt soft hair and a head.
Opening his eyes, he saw Mellie, asleep. Gently, he stroked her hair.
She smiled and opened her eyes.

Then she jerked up in the chair and yelled "Surgeon!! He's awake!"

There was a lot of activity then. They pushed Mellie out of the way
and worked over him, taking blood and scans and checking vital signs.
He just lay quietly. The pain was back and he really wanted to go back
to sleep, but they were all talking at him. Finally, a tall woman
shooed the others back and stood beside him.

"Are you in pain?" she asked.

"Yes" he mumbled, eyes closed.

A nurse stepped forward with a syringe, but the tall woman raised her
hand and stopped him. "Do you want something for pain? Or would you
rather stay awake for a while and talk to Mellie?"

His eyes opened. "Mellie." he said, voice stronger.

Then she was there and holding his hand. His eyes closed, but he lay
listening to her voice as she told him what had happened and drifted
again on the sea, but this time there was light all around.

==== Alfie: Thief, Assassin ====

Alfie looked out from the window of a house across the street from the
Emerald Palace. There was a small door in the wall of the Palace, put
there primarily for the convenience of the cleaning crew. He saw men
and women come out occasionally with robocleaners to utilize a plug-in
on the electrical box on the street. The box was for the neighborhood.
The plug-in was illegal. He smiled. Even the Resistance were thieves.

Late in the night, there was no more activity. He slipped out of the
house, leaving three bodies behind him. Crossing to the little door,
he found it locked. Having the most up-to-date equipment, he simply
inserted his uni-key and the door opened. Alfie stepped into the
Emerald Palace with a knife in his hand.

==== Alfie: Continued ====

The hallway was empty and poorly lighted. No one was supposed to use
this area at night except in emergencies. Alfie moved along, a
darkness among other shadows. There were occasional doors. He tried
all of them. Only one was unlocked. A janitor's closet. A set of deep
green scrubs hung in the back and a robocleaner took up the front
portion. Alfie pulled the cleaner out and put on the scrubs. They were
a little large but not bad. A pair of earphones were in the pocket and
he stuck them in his ears.

He pushed the cleaner ahead of him to the brightly lighted
intersection ahead. No one was in sight, but he hadn't gone more than
a hundred meters before a pair of nurses came rushing toward him.
Every muscle tensed up, but Alfie's expression of boredom didn't
change. He had turned the earphones on when he saw the nurses and the
sound was audible for several meters around him. The nurses ran past
him without a glance.

A schematic of the Palace showed in his vision as he navigated the
corridors, and he eventually found the clinic. He didn't know which
room was Harlan's until he saw the guards outside. "Crap!" He thought.
"These people are totally paranoid."

He walked right past the guards who were holding a conversation, but
eyeing everyone in sight. Including Alfie. As he was turning onto the
next corridor, Alfie heard the guards demand identification. Glancing
back, he saw the person standing there was Santorini. They wanted id
from the Boss himself?

He wandered along corridors thinking, until he realized that he was
coming around to Harlan's room again. A person in dark blue scrubs was
walking toward him. She had on a badge with her picture and name. He
stepped aside so that she could pass. So now all he had to do was find
someone who looked like him and grabbed their scrubs and badge.

It took over an hour, but he finally came to a stairwell and found
three guys playing craps. He hunkered down in between them, looking at
their badges and faces.

"Hey. Can I play?" he asked in a whiny voice.

"Got any money?" one of the three replied.

"Yeah. Just cashed my paycheck."

"Okay." said another.

As he sat down, Alfie pulled his knife. Only one of them gave him any
trouble. And that was just for a few seconds. Then the stairwell was
quiet again.

Dressed in the dark blue scrubs with the badge, he walked up to the
guards in front of Harlan's room.

"I need to check his heart. I got a consult." he said to them.

The two men looked at each other. "We didn't hear about no consult."

"Yeah. They just sent it." He held up a fax.

"Let's see your id."

Alfie obligingly handed them the badge.

"Okay." They passed him through.

Alfie opened the door to the room and discovered that the famous thief
wasn't alone. A pretty young woman sat in a chair next to the bed. She
looked up sharply.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Cardiologist Miller." he replied. "I'm here to do a consult."

She glanced at the door and then back at him. "Okay." she said.

He approached the bed, looking down at Harlan. He'd talked to the kid
a few times. He even liked him a bit. But business was business.

Distant shouts could be heard outside the room. Getting closer.

Alfie pulled out his knife, glancing at the door. When he turned back,
Harlan was looking at him. "Alfie? What the..." Alfie brought the
knife down in a sweeping motion.

And then the girl was all over him. She came over the bed like a big
catlizard, landing on his chest and throwing the two of them to the
floor. She had a gun in her hand which was pointed unwaveringly at his
nose.

Alfie dropped the knife and raised his hands carefully. "I give up."
he whined.

The guards burst into the room, jarring the girl. Alfie had half a
second to run, but his attempt was thwarted. He looked down at the
hand clasped around his wrist and then followed the arm up to Harlan's
stony eyes. He raised his hands again. Harlan had a trickle of blood
running down his neck.

==== Harlan: Thief ====

The next few days were spent either walking in the halls or sleeping.
His doctor told him he needed the sleep as much as the exercise to
heal. Santorini came by after interviewing Alfie Gallagher. They got
very little from the would-be assassin. All he knew was that Cassidy
told him to get rid of Harlan. He couldn't even confirm that the
orders came from the head of the Syndicate, Chas Hawkins. Cassidy
talked to him alone each time. No witnesses to what he said. It was a
dead end unless they could get their hands on Cassidy. The woman from
forensics had managed to get her ties off in just a few minutes and
reported to the team. She backed Alfie up on what Cassidy had said.

But Cassidy lived in the big house and rarely left. When he did, he
was surrounded with his bodyguards. If they tried to grab him while he
was out, they were likely to take heavy casualties. It wasn't worth it
at this point.

Santorini was still enthusiastic about Harlan's idea for the Obsidian
Stronghold, as they'd renamed Hideout 12. They were working on the
place, having set security in place. But not too much security. A good
spy could get through and see that they were lining the rooms and
corridors with shelves and specially designed holders for weapons and
ammunition. The obvious conclusion would be that the Resistance was
moving out of its antique armory into a new one.

The security detail had scared off one spy already. The Resistance had
a large supply of weapons. If the Syndicate could get their hands on
them, they'd be able to take over Crater City. Indeed, they'd be able
to take over most of Agalder, including the desert gangs.

Santorini intended to dangle this priceless plum in front of the
Syndicate until they went for it. Destroying the Syndicate would cut
the crime rate in Crater City in half - at least. And it would make
the revolution, when it came, that much easier.

==== Harlan: Thief ====

The surgeon released Harlan to Santorini's care after a week of hall
walking. He objected loudly until Santorini told him to shut up and do
what he was told. Then Harlan grumbled but softly where no one could
hear. When Mellie came to visit him, he complained until she left
early. The Boss finally yelled louder than a drill sergeant,
explaining the facts of life to a recruit with a restricted IQ and
Harlan snapped out of his funk.

He went to see Alfie.

When Alfie saw Harlan walk in his cell, he talked so fast they
couldn't understand him. But it didn't matter. He'd already given them
everything he could think of.

Harlan was sitting on a stool, staring at Alfie when the Boss walked
in.

Harlan asked "What are you going to do with him?"

Santorini considered. "He's killed or been responsible for the deaths
of several people. He almost killed you. We can kill him which is the
easiest thing to do. Or we can send him somewhere unpleasant. It's up
to you."

Harlan's head turned quickly. "Me? You expect me to decide his fate?"

"Yes."

Alfie had stopped talking and was watching the two Resistance fighters
intently. His eyes were like those of a hound dog, pleading.

Harlan sat very still for several minutes, his face set in stone.
Sweat was running down Alfie's face. Finally Harlan shrugged. "Send
him to Alaton." he said and left. Alfie's face turned white while
Santorini lips spread in a wicked grin.

It was another week before the surgeon would allow Harlan to go back
to work on light duty only. Specifically desk duty. The thief was on
the street in five minutes. He found a quiet place to sleep and rested
until dark. Then he headed for the big house and Cassidy. Alfie knew
next to nothing. But Cassidy would have answers. And screw Santorini's
orders.

The big house was an old mansion, sprawling across several hilly
acres. It followed the contours of the hills, which meant that there
were probably a lot of stairs inside. Harlan had a general idea of the
layout of the house. While he had no idea where he would find Cassidy,
the roof contours might show him something.

The motion detectors and security cams never quite covered the whole
area. There were always places that the cams would miss. He slid from
one of these to the next, mostly on the ground. He didn't think the
Syndicate was quite as sophisticated as the Empire had been and
doubted he'd be disturbing any pressure detectors.

He reached the house without setting off any alarms that he could
hear. He jumped to the roof and moved quietly to the living areas.
These were in a relatively flat part of the property. From there, he
began to survey the rest of the house from above. He knew there were
at least twenty bedrooms, some bigger for the important people, some
very big to accommodate ten or more bodyguards. Walking as softly as
he could, he traversed the roof and found what he was looking for.
Partitions tended to show up on the roof, partitions between rooms. He
found the twenty plus bedroom area.

Once oriented, he moved swiftly to a window looking out over the lawn.
The alarm setup was simple and he bypassed it easily.

Once in the house, he moved from the living areas to the bedrooms.
Cassidy, as second-in command. would have his own private room. From
the curvature of the roof, he had figured out where the rooms for the
goons were and where the very private rooms for the bosses were. He
crept along a carpeted hall that meandered around curves, past closed
doors.

Voices behind him warned him of the approach of two people. Cassidy
and a woman. They were leaning into each other, laughing. Harlan
watched them go by and slid out from behind one of the doors to follow
silently.

The couple entered a room near the end of the corridor. Harlan entered
right behind them. The two were so involved with each other, that they
didn't notice him. An open closet beckoned and he moved inside.

The couple began making noises and comments indicating imminent sex.
Harlan grimaced, stepping out of the closet with a gun in his hand.

She noticed him first and opened her mouth to scream.

He snarled "Please don't do that. I'll have to stop you."

The woman thought better of the screaming and sat down on the bed.

Cassidy was moving toward a desk. Harlan, being younger, slimmer, and
a lot more in shape, cut him off and smacked him on the back of his
head with his hand.

Cassidy grabbed his head, whirling to glare at the thief. "What the
fuck do you think you're doing? You think I don't know you? You think
there's any chance of your walking out of this house alive? Well,
there isn't. You're dead. You just don't know it yet."

Harlan rolled his eyes. "Are you finished?"

When Cassidy opened his mouth to talk, Harlan shoved the barrel of the
gun in between his teeth. Actually, he knocked a couple of them loose.

Cassidy froze. A trickle of blood leaked from between his lips.

Harlan shoved him back into a chair and saw the first trace of fear in
the man's eyes.

He loomed over Cassidy, pushing his advantage. But he had the woman in
his peripheral vision. She had stripped down to her underwear and her
shapely breasts were bare. Now she had risen from the bed and was
turning toward the door. Harlan took one step back, grabbed her long
green hair, and yanked her back. She fell onto the floor with a
shriek.

"Quiet, dear." said Harlan. "I don't want to hurt you. But if it's
necessary, I will."

His conversational tone of voice made the threat even more
frightening. The woman crawled up on the bed and lay down.

As Harlan's attention refocused on Cassidy, he realized that the man
was reaching for something on the wall by the chair. He grabbed
Cassidy's wrist and pulled it back.

Then he grasped the loose material of Cassidy's silken shirt and
yanked him up to eye level. "Who killed Sam Tavis?" came out as a
whisper. When Cassidy made no response, Harlan twisted the shirt so
hard that it started to put pressure on the Syndicate leader's throat.

"Who killed Sam Tavis?" A little louder.

"I don't know." Cassidy tried to push at Harlan, but the thief batted
his hands away with the gun. "Honest. All I know is that there was a
contract out on him. I heard that from a runner."

Harlan stared into Cassidy's eyes for a full minute. Then he dropped
him and grabbed the green haired vixen again. She was once more headed
for the door. He pulled the sheets back from the bed, shoved her in,
and then tucked the sheets in under the mattress so tightly that she
couldn't move.

Turning casually, he fired a shot that penetrated the wall next to
Cassidy's hand. Cassidy jumped back, holding his hand. Harlan checked
the wall and saw the tiny switch in the three dimensional art.

"So why did you send Alfie to kill me?" he asked softly, his eyes as
cold as space.

Cassidy met his gaze. "We figured you'd come after us if we killed
your father. So we decided to eliminate a threat. 'Cept Alfie screwed
up."

Harlan leaned back abruptly. "You knew that the Chief was my father?
How?"

"Strictly accidental. One of the boys was passing by and saw you jump
onto the balcony. He said it took him a couple of minutes to recover
from the shock of seeing that jump. He said he didn't think a human
being could twist in the air like that and land wherever he wanted."
He shook his head. "Boy. I wish I'd seen it." Then he shrugged. "Then
he consulted the window diagram of the building and realized it was
the Chief's balcony. So we kept an eye on it. You pulled your stunt a
few more times. Meanwhile we were digging into the Chief's past and
guess who we found?"

Shaking his head, Harlan started to chuckle, surprising Cassidy. "You
have a window chart of the building? That's impressive work."

Cassidy smiled. "Yeah. It was my idea. Lots of important people in
that building."

He dropped the smile. "So you're not one of us. You're a traitor, a
snitch. Just like the dopers hooked on slam. The cops use you. You
have no loyalty to anyone, you worthless piece of..."

He saw the change in Harlan's face and he shut up but continued to
glare at Harlan. "Getting rid of you was a bit more than good sense.
It was eliminating a threat to the organization."

Harlan continued to stare at the crime boss for a full minute or two.
Then he shrugged and smiled. "Who killed Sam Tavis? And who ordered
it?"

Cassidy shook his head. "You know I can't tell you that. I'd be
signing their death warrants." He stood up. "Do what you have to do to
me. But I'm not going to tell you."

The green haired woman spoke up. "It was the Bastard and Jonny Tool."

Harlan looked at her Cassidy cursed. "How do you know?"

"What are you a male chauvinist? I'm a vital part of this
organization, too. Don't jump to conclusions just because I'm female."

She had gotten out of the bed trap and had gotten dressed while Harlan
was intimidating Cassidy.

Grinning, Harlan said "I won't underestimate you a second time." Then
his face went stony. "Who ordered the hit?"

The woman shook her head. "Can't help you with that. I don't know. We
operate on a need to know basis and that's outside my purview."

Harlan's eyebrows rose as he realized that her education was probably
far better than the average person in Crater City, which meant that
she came from a wealthy family. He didn't think she had used the word
to show off. It was just part of a large vocabulary.

She continued. "And please don't kill Cassidy. I like him." She smiled
a tiger's smile at Harlan.

He was glad she hadn't done that at the beginning. He could feel the
draw of her charisma.

"Thank you." he said to her. Turning to Cassidy, he growled "I will
find out. Meanwhile, don't cut paychecks for the Bastard and Jonny
Tool. They won't need them." He went out the door quietly. Cassidy was
in mid-jump to reach the tiny switch when the gun poked back into the
room and blew the switch away.

==== John Behan: Detective ====

Behan had to talk to Harlan. Nothing made sense unless Harlan and Sam
Tavis were very close somehow. And Mellie would know what their
connection was.

He arrived at Mellie's condo just as she was getting home. She jumped
when he spoke her name from behind.

"Jumpy tonight?" he asked.

"You did that deliberately just to see me jump, didn't you?" she said
as she opened the door. She didn't sound angry.

"Guilty as charged, Boss." Behan smiled at her.

"I am not now and never will be the boss, John." Mellie disappeared
into the kitchen. Her voice floated back. "I haven't seen Harlan since
the Chief..." Her voice broke.

He followed her. She had the fridger open and was just staring at it.

He sighed. "Mellie. You're lying again. Please don't do that. We're
partners. You've got to let me in on this or both you and Harlan are
going to get hurt. Or worse."

Mellie turned and gazed into his eyes. After a minute, she said "He's
already been hurt. He was shot with an old fashioned bullet by a
sniper two weeks ago. And he disappeared today."

Her face crumpled. "I don't know where he is and I'm so scared for
him. I'm sure he was going after Cassidy." Tears coursed down her
face.

Behan pulled her close and hugged her. "Harlan is... resourceful. He's
smart and he'll get through."

"Damn straight." Came a voice behind them. Harlan entered the kitchen
with a grin. "You're hugging someone I love, Johnny. It's a good thing
I heard what you two were saying or I might have misconstrued this
scene."

Mellie came and put her arms around him but carefully, mindful of the
recent injury and surgery.

He pulled her close and kissed her, but Behan could see the flash of
pain that crossed his face. He smiled at the thief "I don't think
we've ever been introduced." And stuck his hand out. "John Behan."

Harlan took the hand and shook it warmly. "Harlan Tavis." he said.

Behan's eyebrows rose as he realized the true relationship between the
Chief he had admired so much and the cocky young thief.

==== John Behan: Detective ====

The three of them talked for hours. Harlan had decided to trust Behan.
His father had trusted the man. He told him everything, including
their participation in the Resistance, although he refused to name
anyone else in the organization.

"Don't blame you. You need to keep that information secret."

Behan stood up and started pacing around the small room, pulling at
his lower lip and muttering to himself. Finally he stopped and looked
at the younger couple. "As I see it, we have three problems to solve."

He sat down abruptly. "First, we need to find out who killed your
father, Harlan." His gaze switched to Mellie. "Second, we need to find
out if Sam's killer is the same person who tried to kill you, Mel."

Standing up, he walked to the kitchen and fixed himself a cup of
express. He walked back into the living area. "And third, we need to
kick start this revolution before the whole planet withers away."

==== Mellie: Detective ====

Mellie's jaw dropped. "What!?" she squeaked.

Harlan came to his feet. "What have you got to do with it?"

"I have some responsibility in the Resistance." Behan said.

"He IS the Resistance." said a voice. Santorini entered from the
kitchen.

"Is my door wide open?" grumbled Mellie.

The Boss grinned at her, then let his gaze include Harlan. "You think
I'm the Boss? Actually John is."

Harlan stared at the detective. "He's what!?" His voice had risen.

"Calm down, Harlan." said Behan. "Greg just checks in with me once in
a while."

Mellie's eyebrows rose. "Greg? Who's Greg?"

Santorini laughed. "I am, Mel. My name is Gregorio Santorini."

"Oh." was all that Mellie said. "Okay. Let's drop the comedy act. Tell
us what's going on."

The two older men exchanged glances and Behan gave a slight nod.

Santorini sat down. "We are about to launch the revolution. And you
two will play important parts in winning it."

Harlan opened his mouth, but Mellie said "Shut up, Harlan.", her
attention focused on the Boss. Harlan's mouth stayed open as he stared
at his sweet, cuddly girlfriend whose face had turned to stone.

Santorini continued. "You, Harlan, are going to organize the thieves,
destroy the Syndicate, and get the remnants to join us."

He raised his hands as Harlan started to protest. "No, it's not going
to be impossible. You will find many allies in this coming war and a
number of them are in the underground. You even have friends in the
Syndicate now."

He made placating motions with his hands as Harlan half rose. "Relax,
kid. Like I said. You have friends. Lots of them. And they will be
there for you. You and I will go over the general outline later."

He turned to Mellie. "Mel, you are going to take over the police
headquarters and hold it until we can break through."

Mellie stared at him. "Oh. And can I call on the Gods of Olympus and
Saturn and the Titans to help me?"

"You'll have real help, Mel. Do not doubt it." said Behan.

Harlan and Mellie looked at each other. Mellie shrugged, then grinned
at the thief.

"What do you think? Should we throw our lot in with these crazies?"

Harlan just gazed at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Hell,
yes!"

==== Harlan: Thief ====

Hours later, Mellie shooed them all out of her home and fell onto the
bed fully clothed, asleep with a smile on her face after one last
thought about Harlan.

The thief himself decided to be a smartass and slipped through the
same window he had used earlier. He appeared in Mellie's bedroom with
a big grin and was greeted by a snore.

He sat on the bed next to her and kissed her. Then he kissed her
again. Then he shook her gently. Then he shook her a bit less gently.
All he got was snores.

With a rueful smile on his face, he got her under the covers. Tucking
her in, he kissed her gently on the forehead. Then he looked at her
for a minute and lay down on the floor and went to sleep.

He woke before she did and quietly left the condo after making sure
all the windows and doors were locked securely.

He arrived at John Behan's little house about ten minutes later. After
disabling the security system and entering through a window, he crept
silently down the hallway toward a bedroom. He eased the door open
without a sound and went to the bed where a lump lay motionless. Too
motionless.

It took him a second, but by the time Behan put his stunner behind
Harlan's ear, the thief had figured it out.

"You coulda just knocked." the detective said grumpily. "Now I have to
reconfigure the security system."

"That's no fun." said Harlan. "But how did you know?" He stepped away
from the muzzle of the stunner.

The detective chuckled. "I have a secondary system. It goes to an
earplug that I wear whenever I'm at home. I heard you breathing."

Harlan turned and looked at the somewhat slovenly, middle-aged man in
front of him with the protuberant belly, the thinning hair, and the
tired eyes. "You're the Resistance?"

Behan smiled. "Greg and I founded the organization about seven years
ago. I went undercover and Greg has always been a bureaucrat. So he
runs things. I just try to keep him informed."

Behan sat on the bed and looked up at Harlan. The thief noticed that
he still had the stunner in his hand. "So why are you disturbing my
beauty sleep when we've been over just about every detail."

Harlan turned and looked out the window at the back of another
building, two disposal units, and a burned out aircar. "I just don't
like what you have lined up for Mellie. So much can go wrong. I would
rather she didn't have to do that."

Behan looked at him and shook his head. "First, if she knew you were
here trying to take her assignment away from her, she'd probably shoot
you. Second, she really is the best person for the job. The department
is riddled with moles. There aren't very many people I can trust like
I do you and Mellie. She is bright, capable, and deadly. She can
handle it."

He stood up, holstered the stunner, and placed a hand on Harlan's
shoulder. "I know it's tough letting someone you love go into a field
of danger. Especially after your dad died a week ago. But you have to
trust her. And me. And Greg. You do your part. We'll do ours."

Harlan's eyes turned to Behan and held his gaze. "You think she can do
this and come out alive?"

Behan nodded. "Yes. She really is that good."

==== Mellie: Detective, Resistance Spy ====

Mellie had been given what was probably the hardest role in the coming
rebellion. She was to live a dual life. She had to make herself
acceptable to the detectives, to become one of the 'boys', slowly
insinuating herself into the group until she was accepted. She
agonized on how to break the ice with nine young to approaching
elderly men, not counting Behan. What could she say or do that would
look natural?

The detectives were playing traffic in a soccer match that night. She
decided to go. She wore her hair caught up in a black cap, which
matched her black pants and jacket. Sitting high up, she could see not
just the field, but the mountains and the waterfall to the west. She
had arrived early and the sun set in glorious colors. She was
transfixed and almost forgot about the game.

Tearing her eyes from the fading sunset, she watched as the men and
women of traffic outran and outscored the detectives. She didn't
cheer. She didn't even move. She just watched. After the game the two
teams went off to the Oasis Chance Casino for dinner and a night of
carousing. Mellie went home.

The next morning she was reviewing a file on her tablet, feet up on
the desk. She got a few looks from the 'boys' for this lack of
decorum, but no one said anything.

Biggers was entertaining the unit clerks with his version of the
soccer game.

"Hanson kicked the ball to me. The way to the goal was open. I started
running, keeping the ball just a few feet ahead of me. I dodged
Phillips from traffic and swerved around Jimmy Ricci. I was clear.
When all of a sudden,..." he paused dramatically.

"He tripped over his own feet and traffic got the ball." said Mellie.
She didn't look up from her tablet.

Biggers mouth dropped open. Every pair of eyes in the room was
suddenly scrutinizing Mellie. She finally looked up at the astonished
Biggers. "Right, Biggers?" and she smiled.

Behan began to laugh, a couple others joined in, and soon the whole
room was roaring with laughter. Biggers was a little hostile at first,
but then he got a sheepish grin on his face and joined in the
laughter.

Mellie shook her head. It really hadn't been all that funny. She
pulled her feet down from the desk and leaned forward and got back to
work.

A few days later, she had an opportunity to insert a comment about a
case as she was walking past three of them. It was something that no
one had thought of. "Did you check the time that it got dark last
night? Dusk is divided into several segments. I don't remember all the
names, but the last one is astronomical dusk when the sun is something
like 18 degrees below the horizon and there's no sunlight left. Your
visibility at that time is just about ten feet. If your witness
claimed she saw the suspect clearly at that time from forty feet, she
was lying." And she continued on her way. Hanson scurried to his desk
to check the information.

As she was leaving that night, Hanson stopped her. "Hey, Mellie." he
called. She looked back and waited for him as he hurried to catch up.
Hanson was in his 30s, getting a little thin on top and a little thick
in the middle. He'd never said a word to Mellie before.

"I wanted to say thanks. That little tip you dropped on your way past
this morning made a big difference in the case." He looked out over
Mellie's head. "The witness was definitely lying. You were right. We
arrested her and she broke down a couple hours later and confessed."
His gaze came back to Mellie. "Without that piece of information, we
would have arrested the wrong person and gotten egg all over our
faces. As it is, we're lookin' good." He tapped her on the shoulder,
smiled, and said "Thanks." as he ran down the ramp to the street.

Mellie watched as a good looking woman on a bright red Air Jumper
picked him up. He hopped onto the back of the skimmer and they went
roaring off into the night.

There was a definite thawing in the attitudes of her colleagues in the
next few weeks.

==== John Behan: Detective, Resistance Fighter ====

As Mellie slowly, carefully found her way into the brotherhood of
detectives, Behan watched and silently cheered her on. He was
delighted that she had discovered a way to get the 'boys' on her side.
When she spoke, they started to listen, instead of talking over her.
And they often acted on her advice, having found that she actually
knew what she was talking about.

He stopped worrying about her the morning he came into work and Mellie
was sitting with one hip perched on Biggers desk, drinking a cup of
coffee, and laughing with four of the detectives. He just smiled as he
walked past and got to work.

Behan had his own problems. He was conducting a covert operation
within the department, searching for anyone who was being paid by the
pirates for information on investigations and operations. He had
started the work six months ago with the entire force as suspects.
Most people were easy to eliminate. Either they were too low on the
totem pole to have access to the information or they were in positions
that simply did not have any need to know. However, he had noted that
two of the supposedly 'benign' staff had received an influx of money
recently. They were being watched.

==== Mellie: Detective, Resistance Operative ====

To her shock, Mellie discovered that she was beginning to like her
colleagues. They had accepted her as an equal member of the team and
were treating her with the same respect and rough camaraderie that
they afforded each other. Well, not quite the same. They cleaned up
their language for the most part when she was with them. Except in
stressful situations and then the detectives noted that Mellie could
be as foul mouthed as any of them.

The difference was that they now liked her and that fondness was
reflected in their attitudes. She fervently wished that she was not a
Resistance spy. She just wanted to be a detective.

Most of her colleagues appeared to be as apolitical as possible.
Although with the pirates in charge of the planet, she didn't
understand why her new friends didn't talk among themselves about the
regime and the horrors they saw on a daily basis.. She wondered how
many of the supposedly neutral police force were actually members of
the Resistance. And then she thought that some might be in the pay of
the Pirates. If they couldn't fully trust each other, then open
criticism of the regime would be a quick way to get killed.

So they avoided the subject altogether, kept their heads down, and did
their jobs. No way to tell the good guys from the bad guys.

She decided she had to be subtle.

Two days later they were called to the scene of a multiple homicide
that included children. Mellie didn't have to fake the deep anger and
hatred she felt for the people who fostered this environment, who took
away the education system, the teachers, the books, and gave poverty
and crime in return. She tried to keep her voice down but wasn't
entirely successful. She cursed every one of the members of the
Democratic Advisory Board, the President, and was starting on the
heads of departments, when one of her partners stepped on her foot,
and another 'accidentally' elbowed her in the ribs.

"Shut up!" they whispered urgently. "You never know where there are
microphones or ears listening."

She noticed two others had almost reached her and were just now
turning away. Every member of this team apparently wanted her alive.
Apparently.

She gritted her teeth and got to work.

That subterfuge accomplished nothing beyond getting her sore ribs and
a sore foot. The next attempt was going to be harder and she would
need help.

==== Harlan: Thief, Resistance Operative ====

Harlan had no idea how he was supposed to suddenly make friends with
the people in the Thieves' Guild. He had been known for his
stand-offish attitude since he had first started out. There were a few
that he talked to at times when they ran into one another. He
occasionally had a brew with Big Domosky and considered the man his
friend. Big Domosky was called that because he was - big, that is.
About 140 kilos and 206 cm, the man made Harlan feel like a child
beside him. Short orange hair covered his scalp, going well with his
dark brown complexion.

Domosky was smart and well educated. He had had two major interests in
college - astrophysics and classical literature and had gotten degrees
in both. He'd gone on to get advanced degrees in the sciences and just
when he was ready to go make money, the pirates had shown up. That
never spoiled the big man's attitude. He just devoted his life to
stealing as much from the pirates and their sympathizers as he could.

Harlan decided that Big Domosky was as good a place to start as any.
He went to track the man down. He found him leaning on the bar in the
Black Chaupoo. The bartender looked like he'd rather the big man
didn't lean so heavily but said nothing.

"Hey, Domosky! How you doing?" called out Harlan.

"Harlan! Are you all right? There was a rumor that you were shot. You
look okay."

"I get a cold and somebody starts a rumor that I've been shot." Harlan
answered. "No. I'm good." He stepped up next to the giant and asked
the bartender for a brew.

Domosky raised his hand to slap Harlan on the back, but something in
the thief's eyes stopped him. He laid the huge hand gently on his
friend's shoulder. "Well, It's good to see you. Come sit at my table
and catch me up on your doings."

He led the way to a large table with colossal chairs in a corner. Once
settled in, Domosky leaned forward and spoke softly. "You really did
get hurt, didn't you?"

Harlan glanced at the next table which was unoccupied. "How do you
know that?"

"I was going to slap you on the back, but your face went white, and
you looked like a trapped marsck. You weren't sure you could tolerate
it."

Harlan chuckled. "I probably would have passed out. Thank you for not
greeting me in the usual Domosky manner."

Domosky nodded. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Harlan stared at his brew for a while. "Dom, we've been friends for a
long time now, but there are things you don't know about me and..."

"Like the fact that your father was Sam Tavis? That he was a member of
the Resistance and that you are, too. That you're in love with that
cute detective, Mellie, and that she loves you just as much."

Harlan's eyes never strayed from the brew, but his shoulders
tightened. "I'm not sure what you're..."

"Yes, you are. You're just wondering how I know it and if I can be
trusted." He glanced up at the bar across the room. No one seemed to
be paying any attention to them. "Harlan, the Boss told me. Greg
Santorini. I've been keeping a eye on you for a couple of years." He
grimaced. "If you hadn't vanished into thin air recently, I'd have
known what happened to you."

"Why don't you know? If you're a Resistance member, then you would
have heard that I was shot at headquarters and nearly died there." Now
Harlan's eyes were locked with Domosky's dark brown ones.

"Well, shit." said the giant. "I just got back from the mines up at
Cannette's tonight. They had heard that you were injured but had no
details."

"What were you doing up there?"

"Arranging for a revolution." the big man answered.

"So you're saying you're a Resistance member and I'm supposed to
believe that?"

"Yes." Then Domosky shrugged. "But I do have proof."

"Yeah? Let's see it."

"Him. Come on."

Domosky stood and walked to a door next to the men's room. He opened
it without knocking and went in. Harlan followed. The Boss was sitting
at a table with John Behan and three other men.

Santorini looked at them "Whatcha need, Dom?"

"This idiot is poking holes in my story and wants proof that I'm part
of the Resistance."

Quiet laughter ran around the table. "Yes, Harlan. You can trust this
oaf. He's for real." and Santorini turned back to the table.

==== Harlan: Thief, Resistance Operative ====

Domosky and Harlan returned to their table where the younger man sat
staring at his hands silently. Domosky waited.

Finally, Harlan looked up at the big man. "Sorry. I'm a bit pissed."
He looked at the barkeep. "Even the bartender knows more than I do."

He rose from the table and headed for the door.

Domosky stood up and followed. He caught up with Harlan in a few of
his long strides. "If you go to the roofs, we won't be able to talk."
His breath streamed out on the cold night air. "No one knows more than
they need to. You are entering a new phase. And you need more
information now. So you're getting it."

He rubbed the back of his head. "I felt much the same as you do last
week when they filled me in on a lot of minor details. Like Behan and
Murphy."

Harlan snorted. "Behan doesn't seem like a minor detail to me." He
looked at Dom. "Who's Murphy."

"The guy sitting across from the Boss at the table. He's an assistant
to the President."

"The President? The pirate President? Mahoney? That President?"

"Yes. That President."

"Jesus H. Christ on a hofsteader." Harlan stood for a long minute, his
mouth hanging open. Then he shook his head vigorously. "I don't
believe that. I don't believe any of those bastards could be turned."

"He wasn't turned. He contacted us."

"That proves it. He's a mole. He joined the Resistance to get
information on us to pass on to his boss. He needs to be eliminated."
He looked back at the tavern as Domosky turned him around and they
walked back.

"His wife would shoot you just for saying that." said Dom as they
entered the pub.

Harlan's head came up. "Who's his wife? And why should I care?"

"Her name is Silver Santorini. She's the Boss's daughter." He leaned
forward, scrutinizing the crowd. "In fact, that's her. Over by the
bar. The one with all the panting men around her."

Standing next to the bar was one of the most beautiful women Harlan
had ever seen. Her hair was almost pure white, hanging loose and
tumbling down her back like a waterfall. But she wasn't an albino. Her
skin had a healthy pink tinge, especially on those high cheekbones.
Her eyes were light although he couldn't see what color they were from
this distance. Her rosebud mouth opened as she laughed over perfect
white teeth. Her neck...

Harlan forced his attention back to Domosky. "Holy shit!" he said.
"That's the Boss' daughter?"

Domosky had been watching Harlan's reaction to the woman. "Yep. Lots
prettier than her daddy."

Harlan snorted. "You're a master of understatement."

Then he deliberately turned his back on the very distracting woman,
shifting so that he faced Domosky. "Do you know what the high
muckety-mucks have ordered me to do?"

The big man grinned. "As I understand it, you volunteered to serve in
whatever capacity they needed."

"That was before I heard what the assignment was." He shook his head,
taking a quick glance at the Boss' daughter. "They want me to organize
the thieves, destroy the Syndicate, and bring any left alive into the
Thieves' Guild." Shaking his head again, he asked "How in Hell am I
supposed to accomplish that? Behan says I have friends who will be
there for me." He took another quick look at Silver. "As far as I
know, you're the only person I can call a friend. And you might not
feel that way."

Domosky chuckled. "You will probably be surprised when you find out
how many friends you actually have." He leaned back in his chair,
possibly to cut off the view of Silver Santorini, which was just as
distracting to him. "And, yes. I am your friend."

Harlan looked at the big man for a moment with a slightly crooked
smile. Then he realized that Silver Santorini was standing next to
them. Both men nearly fell as they hurriedly stood up.

Silver's lips quirked. "May I join you?" she asked.

"Of course." said Dom as he grabbed a chair from a nearby table,
dumping the previous occupant.

"Our pleasure." said Harlan as he moved his chair over to make room.

Silver was chuckling as she stooped to assist the man who had been so
unceremoniously deposited on the floor. Dom's face went pink and he
lifted the man to his feet, apologizing.

Silver offered her hand to both of the men. "Hello. I'm Silver
Santorini. I believe you know my father."

The two men had difficulty letting go of her hand, but she was able to
extricate it.

She accepted their offer of a brew as the waiter came over.

Once they were alone, she leaned forward and spoke softly. "I have
been assigned to your team, Harlan. It will be you and me and Dom."

For the first time, Harlan was not pleased to see Mellie walk in the
door to the tavern.

==== Mellie: Detective, Resistance operative ====

She really didn't expect to find Harlan in the Black Chaupoo. She
certainly didn't expect to find him with a gorgeous woman with pure
white hair and green eyes. She felt her own eyes narrow as she walked
toward them. Harlan had turned and was looking at her. His eyebrows
were raised as if he were puzzled. Or maybe anxious.

He stood and reached for her as she came up to the table, but Mellie
ignored his outstretched hand and smiled down at the woman.

"Hello, Dom." she said without so much as glancing at him. "Hello,
Harlan. Who's your friend?"

The woman's perfectly arched eyebrows also rose and a little smile
played around her lips.

Harlan sighed. "This is Silver Santorini, the Boss' daughter." he
said. "She's married to a guy named Murphy who's with the Boss in the
back room."

Now Mellie did look up at Harlan. Briefly. "I've heard of you." she
said to the woman. "Everyone talked about how beautiful you are. I
didn't believe them until now."

Silver smiled again. "Thank you, Detective." She stood. "I had heard
much the same about you. I see that the gossip was also true."

They stood staring at each other for a moment. Then Mellie offered her
hand and Silver took it. Their handshake lasted a bit longer than one
between two men would have and seemed much more intimate. Harlan had
the distinct feeling that they were saying things to each other
without words.

The women sat down and the men followed suit.

Mellie stared at Harlan for a long minute, markedly increasing his
anxiety. Finally she smiled at him and reached out and took his hand.
Turning to Silver, she asked "Is that Liam Murphy you're married to?"

Silver nodded. "That would be the man. We've been married for three
years. He's a good man."

"Except that he's a pirate and the President's assistant. That makes
him a little bit suspect on this side of town."

"I know. I've lived with those suspicions for years now." She
grimaced. "But I know this man. I know him well. He is sincere. He
wants to overthrow the tyranny and free the people of Agalder. He has
the courage and brilliance to do it."

Mellie raised an eyebrow. "Why would he betray his comrades?"

"Because they are wrong and cruel and basically evil." Silver said as
she took a sip of her brew. "There are another half dozen crew members
who think like Murph does. They'll join him when it's time. But the
majority of the crews are only interested in making their fortunes.
This is supposed to be the last gig. When they leave here, they're
supposed to split up and head for different parts of the galaxy to
retire." She snorted. "I'll believe that when I see it."

"What will you believe?" asked Harlan. "That they won't head off to
different ends of the galaxy? Or that this is their last gig?"

She smiled and Harlan couldn't help it. His heart beat a little
faster. "Oh, I wouldn't be surprised to see them split up. They all
detest each other. There is no honor among thieves." She shook her
head. "No. What would surprise me is if this is their last gig. They
are all the greediest of pigs. They might split up, but they would
find another way to make money by harming and killing and raping and
maiming anyone they can."

Mellie shook her head and spoke - so softly that Silver almost missed
it. "It will be their last gig all right. They will be much too dead
for another."

Silver met her eyes, green staring into blue, and she nodded.

==== Silver Santorini: Resistance Operative ====

Silver Santorini and Liam Murphy had been married over three years and
were very much in love. Yet they had never lived together, never
shared the small joys of preparing meals together, of planning
vacations, of sharing their days at work and little triumphs with each
other. They met every few weeks to report to each other and share a
couple of hours of steamy sex. It was all they had at the moment. But
they thought they could see the light at the end of the wormhole and
prayed that it was not the inside of a star.

They couldn't think about that future now. That could lead to
inattention and carelessness and they couldn't risk that. They had to
stay focused. That's why Silver only glanced at Murphy when the door
opened and the men came out of the back room. He didn't even look at
her. Behan had slipped out a window, the same way he had come in.
Santorini came over and pulled up a chair at the table.

"I see you've met my daughter." he said, looking at Mellie.

"Yes. We were just getting acquainted." replied Mellie, her gaze
steady.

The Boss stared at her for a moment, then nodded. "Don't worry about
Murph. He's a good guy and dedicated to our cause."

His eyes flicked from Harlan to Mellie and back.

Harlan said "If you say he's ok, I'll trust him."

Santorini stood and smiled. "He's ok, Harlan. You can trust him." He
kissed Silver and left.

Silver turned to Mellie. "Dad's assigned me to Harlan's team. It'll be
Harlan and Dom and me." She waited for a reaction.

The churning in her stomach didn't show on her face as Mellie said
"Sounds like a good team." Then she looked at Dom. "Actually I came
here to see you, Dom. I'm going to need some help when the time comes
to take over APD headquarters. And I've already decided that you would
be perfect in that role."

"What about me?" Harlan's voice was just a little bit whiny.

Mellie began to giggle and Dom and Silver joined in the laughter.
Harlan looked indignant for a few moments and then chuckled. "That did
sound petulant, didn't it?"

"Yes." Mellie reached out and took his hand. "Two things, my love.
First, you're going to be too busy for this. And second, I don't want
you anywhere around when the time comes. You would be too distracting
for me and vice versa. Neither one of us will be able to afford
distractions then."

"Dom's going to be busy, too." said Harlan, still not happy.

"Not like you are. He should be able to help me then. I am going to
need the second best thief in Crater City for a few hours."

==== Silver Santorini: Resistance Operative ====

Silver left about three hours later. Harlan had come up with a crazy
plan to take over the Syndicate's Big House. It might work. Maybe.
They had batted it around and added and subtracted until they were too
tired to think.

She stepped out into the cold night air, breath fogging out in front
of her. Most of the streetlights were out, and the route was dark. She
walked through rough neighborhoods and past collapsed buildings. The
sidewalk was broken, but she had no problem walking.

Until a shadow emerged from a dark door and came up on her left.

"Hey, gorgeous. I got a warm den for you."

"Go away."

"I can be really nice to you."

"I doubt that. Go away."

"C'mon, sweetie, just come with me for a little while." A hand reached
out and grasped her arm and just as quickly let go. "Yeeow!! You stuck
me! I'm gonna..."

He didn't finish his sentence because the knife she held in her right
hand switched from his hand to his throat. She pushed him back. "One
last time. Go away. Or die."

Her cold green eyes stared into his reddened ones and he shuffled off
to seek easier prey.

Unruffled, she slid the vibroknife back into its sheath on her wrist
and strode off into the night, wondering what Liam was doing.

==== Liam Murphy: Advisor to President for Life ====

Liam Murphy was at home, feet up, with a drink in his hand, staring at
plans for the pirates' invasion of the Emerald Palace, the
headquarters for the Resistance. He had given copies of the plans to
the Boss earlier that evening, Now he was studying the plan, trying to
find any flaws in their defenses.

A breeze ruffled his hair for a moment. Just for a moment. He went
still, not breathing. Listening. Murphy stood and moved silently
across the room, gun in his hand. He turned the setting to lethal.
Sliding behind an animated tapestry, he waited.

A few seconds later, a man moved along the hall to the door to the
room. Murphy could see only a shadow. He continued to wait.

A flash of movement and a bearded man jumped into the room, gun held
out in front of him in a two-handed grip. There was no one else in the
room. Murphy was effectively hidden behind the tapestry. The man's
voice spoke a few words sotto voce as he whirled in place to get a
complete view of the room.

The intruder turned, heading back down the hall, saying "He's gone.
Someone must have tipped him."

Murphy waited five minutes, then ten, then twenty before he moved. He
closed the little tube that contained the plans and slid it in his
pocket. He picked a slim book from the shelf beside him and left.

He made no attempt to get his AirStrider. Best scenario: it had a new
GPS and a bug on it. Worst scenario: it had a bomb.

He had another ride stashed a few blocks away and had rehearsed
getting to it stealthily.

They would have left someone to watch the condo. With glacial
slowness, he crawled from a window in the back to the fence. He had
cut a hole in it which reconnected itself until he needed it. He
needed it now.

Blending with the night, he reached the AirStrider in minutes after
getting through the fence.

The machine started silently and he lifted into the air, heading for
the Emerald Palace.

Only then did he get the shakes. He thought about how much he hated
these people who had taken him and used him until his soul was nearly
as putrid as theirs.

He had been kicked off a passenger liner when he had run out of money.
He frowned. When he had lost all his money gambling in the first-class
lounge. Landing on a slimeball planet, he had tried to use what skills
he had to earn his way off. No one, it seemed, wanted a
lawyer/accountant. Law/Accounting had been easy for him. His mind
worked logically.

Then a military fleet arrived in system and he had been recruited to
join them. They could definitely use his advice, they said.

Two systems later he learned why he had become the chief
councilor/chief accountant for the fleet after they decimated a poorly
populated, but very rich world. They didn't kill anyone. They just
took. Everything. Including women and children.

A year later they landed on Agalder and took over.

Three years ago, when he was considering suicide, he learned about the
Resistance. In his logical way, he formulated a plan to approach them.
It took months to get a message to them.

One night, he had been walking home from a bar when a strange noise
made him pause. It sounded like someone calling for help. He ran
toward the sound. It came from behind a hedge. He pushed his way
through the hedge until he was free. Large hands closed over his mouth
and eyes and picked him up. Tape was placed around his face so that
all he could do was breathe. His arms were taped and he was placed on
a Strider. He remained passive, praying that this was the Resistance.

They arrived at a destination about twenty minutes later by his
reckoning. He was placed on a grav sled and taken inside a building.
Dumped onto an uncomfortable surface, he smelled the harsh odors of
the medical profession and sighed. They were going to interrogate him.

He woke up with no memory of the questioning when a soft voice called
his name. He was groggy but otherwise comfortable. He opened his eyes
and saw an angel. That was when he met Silver. She ministered to him
professionally. She was a Nurse/Healer - She could have been a doctor
but didn't want that profession.

She helped him maintain his dignity through the recovery from
anesthesia with kindness and humor. That was when he fell in love.

She would ask him questions at times and he answered with no
reservations. He told her his story - all of it. She listened intently
and commented occasionally, non-judgmental.

The Boss came in and introduced himself, leaving out his relationship
with Silver at that time. But he sat down and they talked. For hours.
Over dinner. Until Murphy's eyes were drooping. They let him sleep
then. The next day they made him part of the Resistance.

Now he had to get to them or die - painfully.

==== John Behan: Detective, Resistance Operative ====

Behan was riding in his AirSedan, much bigger and more comfortable
than a Strider. He was too old for that kind of vehicle. The Sedan was
equipped with all the necessities of a police vehicle, but discretely
hidden. It had been quite beautiful, a soft blue with dark blue
interior. However, the colors were obliterated by years of dust and
dirt, and the dented, scratched surface area of the once shiny
exterior no longer reflected the moonlight. It fit Behan's personality
perfectly. He liked it.

He was at a traffic halt. Great force shields stopped the vehicles in
all lanes at certain points above Crater City, opening at regular
intervals. Flying vehicles moved above and below him. A bright red
Strider caught his eye and he thought he saw Liam Murphy on it. The
red Strider flew off north and Behan changed direction and followed.
He caught up with Murphy just in time to see an AirLorry sideswipe
him, sending him tumbling. Murph managed to hang onto the Strider -
barely.

Behan came alongside the faltering Strider and yelled at Murphy. "Get
in!"

Without hesitation, Murphy jumped from the Strider and grasped the
window edge of the Sedan. The Strider went silent and fell. Behan
reached out and grabbed Murphy's wrist, pulling him inside.

Another Sedan came up beside them and then they were dodging phaser
bolts. Behan forced the blue Sedan into a 180 degree turn, throwing
Murphy against the dashboard, then against the back of the seat. He
grabbed a seat jacket and tried to put it on, ending up just clutching
it to his chest.

There were three Sedans behind them now, all black. They tried to
spread out and come at him from different angles, but Behan was going
too fast. One tried gaining altitude to swoop down from above. Behan
put the Sedan into a steep dive. Murphy hung onto the handholds in the
vehicle with white knuckles, mouth pulled back in a rictus, eyes wide
and terrified.

The Sedan pulled out of the dive with difficulty, nearly scraping the
tops of buildings. One of the black Sedans had followed them down.
Unable to pull up, it plowed into the top of a partially collapsed
building and tumbled to the ground, exploding.

"Push the red button to the right of the dash." Behan yelled as an
explosion rocked the Sedan.

Murphy looked. There was a small red button set among several other
colored buttons.

He pushed it. A hologram appeared in front of him, a representation of
the immediate area with a bright blue dot for Behan's vehicle and 2
red dots for the enemy.

"Open the drink dispenser."

Murphy complied. What appeared to be a joystick popped out. He put his
hand around it.

A sight appeared on the hologram, centered on one of the red dots.

"Pull the trigger." yelled Behan as he slewed the Sedan into a 90
degree left bank.

Murphy pulled the trigger. Tracer rounds spewed forth, found the red
dot. Then there was no red dot. The other red dot left hurriedly.

Behan dropped down into forbidden territory, between buildings, and
slowed to a crawl.

Looking over at Murphy, he said "I guess you've blown your cover."

Murphy nodded, wincing.

Behan looked closer. "You're bleeding."

Murphy passed out.

==== Silver Santorini: Resistance Operative ====

Her father woke her when Behan brought Murphy in. She flew down the
corridors, white hair streaming out behind her like surf. Racing down
the halls barefoot, she repeated a mantra over and over. "Please God.
Please God. Please God..."

She skidded around that corner into the emergency department and
spotted the bay with all the people around it. Cutting through the
bystanders like a knife, she evaded a nurse's grasp and stood next to
Liam's gurney. His eyes were closed. He had oxygen under his nose and
appeared to be breathing well, but he was so pale. Plastic lines
dripped fluids into his veins as the staff prepped him for surgery.

"Wake up, Liam." she said. "You're not going to surgery until you tell
me you're going to live." She kissed him. "So open your eyes and look
at me."

A smile crept across his face and his eyes opened. "I'll live, angel.
I'll live."

The gurney was whisked off to the OR.


A bit of the shiny exterior of the Sedan had been chipped off the
machine and blown through Murphy's neck. It clipped the carotid artery
on the right, opening a small hole in the artery. Behan had seen the
blood and slammed his hand over the wound, keeping pressure on it. But
Murphy had been almost bloodless when they arrived at the Emerald
Palace.

The surgeons had him typed and cross-matched and had started
transfusing even before they moved him out of the vehicle.

Silver sat outside the surgical suite and waited. She could have gone
inside to the amphitheater and watched, but she just couldn't do that.
She would rather sit and wait. People came in and sat with her for a
time and left, to be replaced by another. Mostly, though, they left
her alone.

Leaning back in the chair, she started to sing, an old, old song.

"I know where I'm going
And I know who's going with me
I know who I love
And the dear knows who I'll marry.

I have stockings of silk..."

The ancient Irish ballad floated out from the waiting room and into
the halls. People stopped and listened... and may have shed a tear.

Silver sang until she exhausted herself.

The surgeon found her asleep with a smile on her face. He gently
touched her shoulder.

Her eyes opened and she said "He's going to be all right." It was not
a question.

He smiled and nodded. "He's going to be all right."

For hours, she sat beside him in recovery and in his room, dozing at
times, singing at times. They kept him well sedated. The wound in his
artery was very delicately repaired. It wouldn't take much to rip it
open again.

He woke the next morning to find her sitting beside him, looking at
him with a smile on her face and love in her eyes.

She said "Good morning, darling. Welcome to the rest of our lives."
She stood, leaning over him, and very gently kissed him.

==== Mellie: Detective, Resistance Operative ====

Mellie had called in sick for a couple of days, getting Behan to cover
for her. When she showed up, she looked like she'd been sick. Her eyes
were deeply shadowed, black circles under them. She was obviously
exhausted. She was told to go back home and come back the next day
rested. She was perfectly willing to do that. She slept all day.

She came in fresh and cheerful the next day. Behan and she caught a
triple homicide in the North End. There were two suspects. Both had
run off through the run-down neighborhood immediately after the
killings. The cordon had been called down quickly though. They might
still be trapped in the area.

The house was made of gray stone like most of the others in the poorer
sections of town. Dirty and covered with the red dust of the desert
nearby, the houses looked like dark coffins dripping with blood.
Mellie shuddered at the thought.

They were out of the modified AirLorry before it touched down and
running toward the house. Two uniformed officers stood guard, back to
back, in the front space, eyes darting back and forth. Their shoulders
eased back a little when the reinforcements landed.

Mellie and Behan ran quietly past the two officers, using matter
penetrating equipment to scan the house. Nothing seemed to be moving.
Behan placed his hand on the door opener and overrode the lock. The
door opened and they slipped inside. Mellie went right, Behar left.
Still nothing moved.

They found the bodies in a back room. The men had been lined up
against a wall and shot. Like a firing squad. Millie thought.

Two of the faces looked vaguely familiar. Behar drew in a sharp
breath.

She looked at him.

"They're undercover Resistance operatives." he said. "Mason" he
indicated the middle body "was a friend of mine. His wife is dead, but
he has two sons and four grandchildren." He sighed. "I'm godfather to
his sons."

He looked at his friend a moment longer. When he turned back to her,
his face was blank. "Let's check the basement."

A hallway led outside with a door leading to the basement next to
that. No light came from below.

They pulled lights from their belts and started down the stairs. There
were windows high on the walls, but the glass had been sprayed black.
No light came through. And their lights seemed to be swallowed by the
stygian darkness.

They had almost reached the bottom of the stair when brilliant light
exploded from a corner of the room, blinding them. Mellie dived to her
right, followed by Behan, who landed on top of her.

She said something like "Ummmpphh!"

Behan rolled off and fired at the lights. Mellie was able to drag
herself up beside her partner but was still having trouble breathing.
Having a ninety kilo man land on top of you takes your breath away,
she thought.

The lights went out, although there was a dim glow where they had
been.

Mellie could hear whispers coming from that direction. She could see
Behan's face and waved at the corner.

He nodded. She went right. He went left. No lights. Nudging their feet
along, trying to find objects silently. She thought she could see him
as a darker shadow in the blackness. When he turned his face toward
her, she knew she was right. They were less than twenty feet from the
corner. The glow emanating from the area was a putrid yellow. The
odors in the area were just as foul.

Behan held up his fist, pumping it twice. Then he slashed it forward
and they moved together. Leaping over boxes and cans. They landed in a
pool of slime, which was glowing yellow. Movement to their right
brought them scrambling to reach two figures moving toward the stairs.

Moving faster than Behan, Mellie tackled the closest one. An inhuman
screech shattered the silence and Mellie grabbed onto what felt like a
crab leg.

"Shit! Brol." she grunted. Wrenching the leg encased in chitin
backwards, she felt it pull loose. The creature shrieked again.
Multiple appendages grasped her , lifting her up and throwing her at
the wall. She hit the duracrete wall and all the air rushed out of her
- again. Sliding to the floor, she watched as Behan attacked the other
Brol with a pipe he had picked up. He broke a couple of legs before
the thing stuffed him under the stairs.

They heard the two Brol skitter up the steps, then the yells and a
couple of screams as they made their get-away.

Mellie groaned and picked herself up from the floor, hobbling over to
the stairs. Behan was just backing out from the small space
underneath.

He stood up, groaning even louder than Mellie. "You all right?" he
asked.

She smiled. "Probably about the same as you are."

"In that case, call emergency." But he laughed.

Officers came pounding down the stairs, looking concerned.

Lt Marks appeared. "Well, you're both alive at least."

One of the patrol officers joined them with a Brol leg in hand. It was
about five feet long, made of hard chitin, an exoskeleton. Inside lay
muscles and tendons and ligaments that attached to chitin instead of
bone.

A crime scene tech came by, looked at the leg, and said "We should be
able to identify that guy by the morning."

Mellie was surprised. "How can you identify one Brol out of the
thousands on this planet?"

The tech grinned. "They are all required to register when they arrive.
We have their DNA. Each and every one of them." He got back to work.

Behan nodded. "There's a law on almost every human planet. Alien
sentients are required to register on arrival and record their DNA."
He rubbed his back. "Brol are the most plentiful aliens on Agalder,
but they are by no means the only ones."

Lt. Marks walked over to them. "Get back to HQ. Get the computer work
done." He hesitated a moment, looking at Mellie, then shrugged. "And,
for God's sake, take a fresher. You both stink."

The emergency personnel checked Mellie and Behan over and released
them and they made their way back to Headquarters. There was a
mountain of computer work to be done. Not only have they been fired
upon and responded by firing their own weapons, but there was an alien
species involved. But they washed up and put on clean clothes before
getting to work. All personnel kept a spare set or two of clean
clothes at HQ. Just in case.

Something was bothering Mellie. Finally she recognized the concern her
brain was niggling at. She turned to Behan. "Why didn't they kill us?
That had to be deliberate."

Behan looked up and nodded. "Good point." he said. "They never meant
to kill us."

Mellie frowned. "But they were shooting at us when we came down the
stairs."

Behan asked her "Did either one of us get hit?"

"No, but..."

"Brol never miss. They are close to the best shots in the universe.
They want us alive. And they probably want to talk to us."

==== Mellie: Detective, Resistance Operative ====

"Well, we certainly want to talk to them." said Mellie.

"I want to talk to them. I want you safely protected in here. You're
not going anywhere near the Brol."

"Do you think I'm afraid to meet them?"

He snorted. "No. And that's the problem."

Mellie looked at him, eyebrows raised.

He sighed. "You are so determined to prove that you're just as tough
as the guys that you put yourself in danger. The Brol are a
patriarchal society. To be male is to be king of the hill. To be
female is to live in misery.

"The Brol warriors say that the females are all retarded and must be
beaten regularly so they understand their duties. I passed a few words
with a female Brol once. She seemed intelligent enough to me.
Intelligent enough to learn a little Terran.

"At any rate, with their attitude about women, the Brol would not take
too well to a female officer. They have short tempers and they tend to
lash out."

Mellie stared at her partner for a full minute. Then she said "I'm
going." She stood up, leaning her fists on her desk, towering over
Behan. "You have to show them that humans value females as much as
they value males. That we're equal. And screw their cultural
sensitivities. We've got those, too."

She leaned in a little closer. Behan was beginning to cross his eyes.
"And as for that 'lashing out' business, we're pretty good at lashing
out, too."

With that, she straightened up and left the squad room. Every
detective in the room followed her with their eyes. And Behan watched
the watchers.

The Brol contacted them the next day. Marks had pushed the BOLO to
include any Brol anywhere or any being that even vaguely resembled a
Brol. Several Brusqal and a Grinkek had been harassed. The Grinkek in
particular was very angry. Grinkek do not get angry. Ever. Resembling
terran mushrooms, they look nothing like Brols.

Lt. Marks set up the meeting. He tried to insist on a dozen officers
to accompany Behan and Kaminsky to the meeting but was turned down.

They did agree that he could come and bring one other. Marks chose
Alex Biggers. Mellie and Behan stared at him.

"What?!" he asked.

==== John Behan: Detective, Resistance Operative ====

The Brol lived in an abandoned cosmetics factory, close to the
crater's edge. They had dug nests and tunnels throughout the complex
and no one had disputed their squatting rights. Picking a fight with a
seven foot spider was not considered a good idea.

The place was dark and creepy at night. Mellie whispered "Why didn't
they just import cosmetics? They're not that expensive for the lower
grades."

Marks said "They were very expensive after the Iron Wars when taxes
were placed on them. Manufacturing our own seemed like a good idea
until the pirates showed up."

They stopped on a low hill in front of the main building and waited.
The Brol had wanted them to go inside - at night - with no lights in
the building. Marks had expressed his opinion of that idea.

So they stood and waited, their lights on, their hands on their guns.
Biggers was whistling between his teeth until Behan threatened to
shove those teeth down his throat.

In the silence that followed, they could hear the same whispering that
Behan and Mellie had heard in that basement. A minute later, they saw
movement near the factory. It looked like a dark rug flowing toward
them. The forward movement wasn't fast, but definitely threatening.
Marks stepped forward and spoke.

"That's far enough. Any farther and we will leave."

A sinister chuckle ran through the spiders. Behan was very glad he had
emptied his bladder before coming.

Marks took another step and his attitude had changed. His shoulders
were braced, his jaw set, and his eyes as hard as rock. He radiated
belligerence. The other three walked forward with him. The spiders
backed up, some being shoved against the building by their fellows.

Marks stopped three meters from the Brol. "Now that we've got that out
of the way," he asked "why did you want to talk to us?"

One spider, larger than the rest, skittered forward a meter. Its
whispery, raspy voice sent shivers down Behan's spine, while the hairs
on the back of his neck stood up.

"We talk to Behan. You weren't there."

Mellie stepped forward. "I was there. You talk to me, too."

The Brol actually recoiled. It hissed. "Take female away."

Behan moved up beside Mellie. "She is my partner. She fought one of
your people in that basement. She was there. She stays."

A murmur ran through the crowd. "If she stays, we will leave." said
the leader.

Behan chuckled. "Then go." He turned to leave.

The murmur grew louder. "Wait."

Behan kept on walking. The others turned to follow.

"Very well. She stays."

They stopped and retraced their steps until they were crowding the
leader. It waved a leg at them. "Move back. You're too close."

They stepped back.

Behan asked "What did you want to tell us?"

Two of its three eyes glanced at Mellie. "Others of your kind came two
days ago. They promised to pay us well if we killed the humans in that
house. We went there last night and killed them. We were looking for
anything that might be valuable to us when you trapped us."

The leg wave again, this time to include the mass of spiders behind
it. "We were not responsible for the deaths of those humans. They were
killed by their own kind."

Behan's jaw was clenched so tight that he thought his teeth might
crack.

Mellie yelled. "Bull shit!" She moved another step until she was right
in the leader's face. "You killed them. For money. That makes you
responsible."

The Brol raised its two forelegs and gave a very obvious shrug. "We
were only the instruments."

Mellie put a hand on Behan's arm. He was trembling with the need to
attack this blithe murderer. He glanced at her and took a few deep
breaths. The trembling subsided.

"No." he said. "You made a choice. You chose to murder three good
people. I don't know much about the Brol, but from what I have seen
tonight, I doubt there are three good people among you."

The lead Brol raised his two front legs as if to step forward. A
jabbering came from the back of the crowd. The spokesman put his feet
back down. Behan realized that he was just a spokesman. The real
leader, at least of this group, was at the back.

"Why did you want to talk to us?" Behan asked.

There was movement in the crowd and the largest Brol Behan had ever
seen came forward. It pushed the spokesman aside and spoke. "We know
who ordered the kill. If you want to know, you will pay us 60,000
credits by tomorrow night. No negotiation."

The monster turned and reached out with its front legs, grabbing the
spokesman. Casually it bit off the creature's head. Then it threw the
wildly twitching body to the side and sauntered off, chewing noisily.

==== Harlan: Thief, Resistance Operative ====

The four humans stood absolutely still for nearly a minute. Then they
turned and walked away. Biggers got just far enough away to put an
outbuilding between them and the mob of spiders before he threw up. He
managed to do it very quietly.

The other three stood by. Mellie handed Biggers a tissue after he was
able to continue walking. She said "Don't feel bad, Alex. We were all
struggling to keep our dinners down." She patted him on the shoulder,
earning her a weak smile from the detective.

The department had plenty of money. The bribe was paid. They were
actually expecting a much larger number.

They got the name the next day. Chas Hawkins. The chief of the
Syndicate. Behan passed the word on to Santorini at the Resistance.
And Santorini passed it on to Jake Rogers, one of the best assassins
on the planet.

Two nights later, the Big House suddenly turned into a stirred up
sting dauber's nest. People were running in and out of the doors, even
through the windows. Lights stabbed at every inch of the lawn and
shrubs. People could be seen inside, gesticulating, shouting.
Eventually the people and their intrusive lights returned to the
house. Quiet returned, but it was a menacing quiet.

Had anyone been watching, he might have caught a glimpse of a group of
five shadows within the night's darkness. This darker dark moved
across the lawn to a group of houses on a tree lined street with few
lights. Very few watchers could have followed the progress of the
shades from tree to tree, staying in the blackest part of the murky
gloom.

Harlan was one of those very few watchers. He saw their progress down
the street. He followed them as they slipped through the night, unseen
by people only a few feet away.

Harlan realized that the group was splitting up. Three continued on
toward the Green Palace, but the other two went in opposite
directions.

Harlan watched the two head out. One was going for John Behan. And the
other was after Mellie. Harlan took to the roofs, running as fast as
he could. He pulled out his communicator and called Behan.

"Yeah?" came a gruff voice.

"John, you're going to have a visitor in about five minutes."

"Are you behind him?"

"No. Another one is going for Mellie. And three are headed to the
Green Palace."

"No problem. I'll take care of this one and call the Palace. You take
care of Mellie."

"Right." Harlan disconnected and jumped from one roof to the next.
He'd never jumped that particularly wide gap before. Now he barely
noticed.

It was late, past end of day. Harlan opened Mellie's bedroom window
without thinking of how she might view the intrusion. The flash of a
phaser brought him to a halt. A burn spot appeared 2 millimeters from
his left ear.

"Mellie! It's me!"

Mellie appeared out of the shadows in her room and smacked him in the
jaw. "You friggin' idiot! I could have killed you. All I could see was
a dark figure wrenching my window open."

Harlan rubbed his jaw. "You hit like a girl." he said. She drew her
fist back for another demonstration and he caught it in his hand.
"Okay. That hurt. The Syndicate is sending you a visitor and I don't
think he's friendly."

She nodded and reached into her cupboard for her phaser's power pack.
"How do you think he'll come in?" she asked as she checked her weapon.

"Through the kitchen." Harlan said. "But we need to cover both the
bedroom and the kitchen."

Mellie nodded. "What about the other entrance points? The front door?
The rec room?"

Harlan glanced at the windows with the stunning view of the city. "No
one's coming through that window. If I can't do it, no one can. And as
for the front door? No way. Too expected."

So, of course, the intruder came in through the front door.

Harlan was moving between rooms and he heard the slightest squeak of
the hinges. Mellie was flat against the wall just inside the kitchen.
Harlan could see her looking at him. He indicated the front room. She
opened her eyes wide, raised her eyebrows, and grinned at him. He
rolled his eyes. He wasn't going to live that gaffe down.

The two of them moved to positions on either side of the entrance to
the rec room and waited. And waited. Nothing happened.

Fifteen minutes. Twenty. Nothing. Twenty-five minutes. Then a sock
flew through the air and landed on the floor inside the rec room.
Neither Harlan nor Mellie moved.

Another five minutes before a shoe followed the sock, landing with a
thunk.

The intruder waited another ten minutes before he poked his head into
the rec room and found himself facing the wrong ends of two phasers.
He didn't move anything except his mouth. "If I moved fast enough, you
two would shoot each other."

Mellie looked at him with a nasty smile. "Go ahead. Try it."

He smiled back. "No. I think I'll just put my weapon down and let you
tie me up. Which is what Cassidy told me to do anyway."

"Cassidy told you to give yourself up to us?" Harlan was incredulous.
"I don't think so. Not after you killed three of our best people."

"I didn't kill them. Nobody knew about that hit except Hawkins and
four of his goons. His 'Special Squad', he called them. Well, he's
gone now and Cassidy's in charge and he doesn't want anybody else
killed. On either side."

Mellie was nodding. "That makes sense, Harlan. Cassidy's known for his
pragmatism."

The intruder was nodding.

"What's your name?" asked Harlan.

"Ned Moreno. My father was Timmy Moreno. You might remember him,
Harlan."

Harlan remembered. Timmy Moreno. His father's friend. A man of honor
and strength. Harlan had looked up to him. And he had played with
Timmy's son. Jake.

"Jake." he said. "I thought you died with your dad."

==== Harlan: Thief, Resistance Operative====

Jake looked down at the carpet under his feet. "No. He protected me
with his body. I lived because he took the force of the blast." His
eyes roamed up the wall, seeing a time years ago and miles away. "When
the Guard came around to see if everyone was dead, I unfocused my eyes
like you taught me. Remember? And lay limp. I had enough blood on me
to look realistic."

"Someone poked me in the side with a gun. It hurt, but I managed to
stay limp. They went on."

His gaze met Harlan's. "I lay there for a long time." His eyes
sparkled with unshed tears. "My dad and me - we didn't get along well.
Part of it was the Resistance. He believed. I thought it was
bullshit."

Running his hand through his hair, he said "We argued, sometimes to
the point of throwing punches. I couldn't sway him. And I was too
stubborn to open my eyes."

He chuckled, a laugh with no humor in it. "Boy, did I ever have my
eyes yanked open that night." Looking at Harlan, he said "If I had
twitched, they would have shot me dead. Even though I was supposedly
on their side."

He hung his head down and shook it. "Shit! I was dumb."

"I think I lay there, between the cold floor and the cooling body of
my father, for at least an hour. At one point I started crying. Crying
like I had no tomorrow. And I didn't. I had no idea what to do, where
to go."

Still with his head hanging, he said "The reason I survived had
nothing to do with my skill or knowledge. The Resistance came. I was
crawling out from under Dad at that point and was trying to get to my
feet." He smiled grimly. "I was as stiff as Dad was becoming."

"Three men suddenly appeared - like out of thin air. One was
Santorini. I didn't know the other two." He sighed. "They obviously
knew me. One spoke up. He wanted to kill me. Santorini looked at me,
covered in my father's blood, tears streaking down my face, one leg
still stuck under the corpse. He shook his head and had them bring me
along."

"For days, I slept or lay staring at the ceiling. I didn't eat much. I
didn't think much. Thinking was far too painful. I just lay on the bed
in a fog."

He smiled then, a genuine smile. "Finally Santorini's daughter, Jade,
came into the room. I wasn't dead, so I noticed her. Brilliant green
hair and eyes and a smile that would light up the world. She kicked me
out of bed, forced me to dress, and dragged me back to the land of the
living."

Harlan smiled. "I think I've met her."

"At the Big House?"

Harlan nodded.

"Yeah. She's been undercover there for a couple of years." He leaned
back. "I don't like it. Hell. I hate it. But Jade's a big girl and can
do what she wants. I'm just her husband."

"You're married to that witch?"

"Yeah. Ain't she great?"

Harlan grinned. "Hell, yeah."

Harlan and Jake began to laugh. Mellie stared at them. "What's so
funny?"

Harlan managed to say. "You'll have to meet her."

When he had controlled his laughter, Harlan said "You'll have to
forgive me if I don't trust you implicitly yet, Jake. I'll let
Santorini okay you."

Keeping their phasers centered on Jake's back, Harlan and Mellie
herded him out the door and into the garage, boarding a two seater
AirScooter. Mellie sat on Harlan's lap and guided the machine. Fifteen
minutes of discomfort and crowding later, they arrived at the Green
Palace.

Santorini met them at the front door. He didn't even look at Harlan or
Mellie. He went straight to Jake and hugged him, holding the younger
man tightly for a moment. When the Boss stepped back, Harlan could see
tears in the eyes of both men.

Harlan shrugged and put his phaser away. Looking at Mellie, he saw
that she was smiling and had already holstered her weapon.

Santorini brought Jake over to them. He started to introduce Jake, but
they all interrupted, saying that they had indeed met.

The Boss said "Oh, yeah. That's right. Thank you for not killing or
maiming him. Jade would kill all of us."

Mellie looked at Santorini and asked "You got any more daughters,
Boss?"

"Yeah. Two more. Why?"

Mellie shook her head. "Nevermind."

Jake carried a message from Cassidy. Cassidy could see what was about
to happen on his world and he wanted to be on the winning side. By his
calculations, the Resistance would win. He would be throwing all the
resources of the Syndicate behind the rebels.

There were stipulations, of course, including a full pardon for every
man or woman who fought for freedom.

Cassidy wanted that pardon. He had set up a legitimate business
several years ago, importing fashionable clothes from New Dessel where
they were made with cheap labor. To his credit, he had insisted that
all of his workers be paid at least a good wage by New Dessel
standards. He also managed to get them good health care coverage and
even two weeks vacation. They were basically indentured servants so he
forgave fifty percent of their debt and released them when the rest
was paid off. He even rehired them at a significant increase in wages.
All of this could be done on New Dessel and still save him money.

He wanted to move to New Dessel and continue his reforms, but he
needed to be free of his past. Going straight was complicated.

Cassidy also foresaw the need for their armories to be updated. He had
done that for the Syndicate. He offered the Resistance the same
advances - at a discount, of course. Cassidy was giving them a good
deal. If they could trust him.

Jake thought Cassidy was sincere. He wanted to be a hero for a change.
And to make money at it. Jake said he could almost hear the cheering
of the crowds when Cassidy talked about his dreams.

The Boss agreed to meet with the would-be hero. Each would bring their
most trusted associate and no one else. They would all be armed. That
was understood. Trust only stretches so far.

==== Santorini: Boss of the Resistance ====

Santorini chose Harlan to come with him. While Harlan was surprised,
no one else was. Harlan was the best second story (or third or fourth)
man in Crater City and, therefore, the best guard the Boss could have.

They set out the next night two hours early in an AirSedan, black as
the darkness around them. It was roomy and comfortable inside and
well-equipped with weapons. They flew to the meeting point and waited
a kilometer away, scans probing the area to give warning when anyone
approached. The car was well hidden in some ruins.

Harlan slipped away into the rocks and disappeared.

The Boss was surprised when Cassidy and his assistant showed up and
pulled in next to them. Cassidy raised his windscreen and grinned at
him.

"Good evening, Santorini. You can tell your young assistant to come
back in from the wilds."

The Boss raised their car top and glared at the Syndicate head. "I
thought the meeting was later and over there." He waved vaguely in the
direction of the proposed meeting place. Turning his head, he yelled
"Come on in, Harlan."

Cassidy laughed, a real laugh, full of humor and good feeling. "You
seemed to have gotten lost. And out here, one place is as good as
another." He climbed out of the Sedan and sat on the front and
signaling his associate to join him, effectively eliminated any threat
from the vehicle's armament. The associate was wearing a helmet,
obscuring the identity.

Looking at the Syndicate chief, Santorini grunted. "Gutsy, aren't
you?"

He climbed out of his vehicle and walked over to Cassidy and the
other. He already knew who the helmeted other was. He had known as
soon as she moved.

Positioning himself between the Syndicate representatives, he leaned
against their car and looked up at the stars. "Nice night." he
commented.

They were all looking at the spot where they expected Harlan to
appear. Cassidy jumped and even Santorini gasped when Harlan touched
them on the shoulders from behind.

Cassidy and his associate looked at the thief and at the Boss, then at
each other. Santorini reached out and hugged the helmeted associate.
The helmet came off and brilliant green hair spilled out. "Daddy."
said Jade. "You're such a spoilsport."

The four sat down and talked. Jade had ordered sandwiches and salads
from the kitchen and a couple of bottles of wine. It took two hours,
but they hammered out an agreement that would allow for amnesty for
freedom fighters and their families.

They also discussed a land agreement. Everyone who fought for the
Resistance would be eligible to buy land on the planet. Good land at a
good price. The world had been devastated by the Iron Wars, The
population outside of Crater City consisted largely of roving gangs of
bandits. There were no other towns. Not anymore.

Santorini wanted to rebuild not just the city but the whole world.

Cassidy had his hopes set on New Dessel. He wanted to free the
indentured servants and provide them with a living wage. He wanted to
build a middle class that did not yet exist on that planet.

Santorini wished him luck. The Syndicate chief would run into a lot of
opposition from the factory owners on New Dessel. They liked the
status quo.

They were packing up to go home when Jade spoke softly to her father.
"I'll be going with him when he leaves for New Dessel, Daddy."

Santorini went very still for a moment. Then he looked at her. "I
know. But relations should improve between the planets, both
communication and commerce. We'll see each other often."

He grinned at her. "By the way, your mother's pregnant again."

Leaving her with a shocked expression on her face, he hopped into the
sedan and took off.

==== Cassidy: Newly promoted head of the Syndicate ====

Cassidy and his crew were pounding at the doors of the Green Palace at
dawn the next day. They were ready to do the upgrades on the armory. A
firefight almost broke out when Resistance members saw the Syndicate
people.

Cassidy was at the head of the Syndicate group and had his hands up
high. "Hey! Hey! We're here to help you, not fight you. Where's
Santorini?"

A gruff voice down the hall called "Right here. I'm having to fight my
way through."

A path cleared and Santorini came trotting up to bring the delegation
inside. He pushed his way through to the lifts and they climbed
aboard, relieved to be away from the house guards.

Cassidy looked at the Boss. "They didn't get the memo?"

Santorini grinned. "I didn't expect you this early. I was just
starting to inform everyone. Sorry about that."

Santorini took them to the armory and left them on their own, a show
of trust that Cassidy hadn't expected.

Emerald showed up a few hours later. She walked up to him. Actually
she did something between swaying and gliding. And then she kissed
him. Thoroughly, The men cheered and Cassidy turned bright red.

It took seven hours to install the new equipment and ammunition. By
the time they were finished, several friendships had been formed
between Syndicate guys and Resistance guys. After all they were in the
same business - getting rid of the pirates. A large group went out to
eat together that evening.

Santorini and Cassidy watched from the third floor office as the young
men left, pushing and shoving and laughing. Cassidy said "That bodes
well for relations after we kick the pirate asses off the planet."

The Boss laughed and agreed. "Who'd a thunk?"

Harlan opened the office door and stuck his head in. "I can't find
Mellie. She's not responding to her communicator. I'm going to police
headquarters to find her."

As he pulled his head back into the hall, Santorini yelled. "No!
Harlan. Get your ass back in here. NOW!"

A moment later, the young thief slipped back into the office, starting
to argue. "Look, Boss, I know I'm not supposed to be over there. But I
can hide in stairwells and bathrooms. I won't get caught. I..."

The Boss put his hands on Harlan's shoulders and guided him to a
chair. "Look. She's busy. She's not answering her com unless it's Lt.
Marks or higher. She's on her own at the moment. We're keeping an eye
on the situation and she seems to be doing well." He pushed Harlan
back down in the chair. "Now don't you get yourself involved over
there. She has her work and you have yours. Leave her alone."

"Now you either get to share a bottle of supposedly real Scotch
whiskey with me and my new best buddy here" touching Cassidy's
shoulder "or get out and go foment riot and rebellion."

Harlan couldn't help himself. He laughed and took a drink before he
left to do some fomenting.

==== Mellie: Detective, Resistance Operative ====

Mellie probably wouldn’t have phrased how she was doing as ‘well’. She
was running scared, every day, every minute. Someone would call her
out. She knew it.

Meanwhile, she had dug up some important information, but no one had
contacted her to transfer it to the Boss. She now knew the identity of
the mole in the detective squad and he was likely to find out that she
knew at any moment. She had tricked him. It was just a matter of time
before he figured out that he’d been had. And her life expectancy
would decrease exponentially at that point.

She had been sheltering in the bathroom, but she really needed to get
back to the squad room and keep an eye on Tommi Roper, Detective
second class and spy for the pirates.

When she walked in the squad room, a couple of the guys looked up, saw
her, and went back to their work. Five men were grouped around Behan’s
desk and seemed to be arguing vigorously. She could hear the raised
voices but didn’t understand the words. As she approached, the voices
fell silent and the men stared at her.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

There was silence for a while, then Alex Biggers spoke up. “Roper here
thinks you’re a spy for the pirates. He says he’s seen you close to
both the Big House and the Presidential Palace, like you were
delivering messages or somethin.’”

Roper stepped forward and squared his shoulders. “I saw you walking up
to the presidential palace yesterday. It was dark, but I know it was
you.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. She thought Now or never.

"And why were you there after dark? Exactly what time did this
'sighting' take place?"

Roper sneered. "I was on a stakeout. Watching for any unusual
activity. And it was just about 20:15"

She nods. "20:15. Well, at that time I was having dinner with Lt.
Marks."

Eyebrows went up. Even Behan gave her a look.

"And his delightful wife, Celia. Lt. Marks thought that Celia and I
would get along well. He was right. I think I will enjoy knowing
Celia."

Behan grinned. The rest looked mildly embarrassed. Roper looked
unhappy. "Well. I said it was dark. Musta been somebody who looked
like you."

Mellie smiled. "Actually, Roper, I've been wanting to talk to you. You
weren't on any stakeout last night. You were meeting with O'Hara, one
of the group leaders in State Security. He reports directly to the
President. In fact, I'll bet he wanted you to join with Caspenski, the
Syndicate goon who wants to take over from Cassidy. You work for the
Syndicate, too, don't you, Roper? And you report everything to the
pirates."

The group around them had grown. There were a dozen men and a couple
of women listening now. The uproar that followed Mellie's words
brought in another crowd.

Mellie raised her hand and the noise quieted down. "You're double
crossing everybody, aren't you, Roper? You're a spy for the pirates.
So everything you hear, everything you see, even everything you
suspect, goes right back to the bastards who have this planet under
their thumbs. Just how much are you getting paid, you traitor?" Her
voice had risen to a shout.

Roper swung a fist at her, but she dodged and grabbed his arm, pinning
him over the desk. "You're not even a good cop."

Roper yelled "You're a liar! You can't prove any of that."

Smiling a predator's smile, Mellie pulled out a disc, the size of a
contact lens, and inserted it into Behan's computer. A vid came up.
Roper was walking toward a dark shape standing near a hoverlight on a
rainy street. The figure turned as Roper came near and the light
played across his face. Every cop gasped. They all knew that face.
Dietr, head of state security for the pirates. The two men walked a
little way together, then stopped and talked. Something exchanged
hands. Dietr slapped Roper on the shoulder and Roper turned and walked
away. The vid stopped.

Mellie looked around at her colleagues. "Santorini will want to talk
to him." She pulled the disc and handed it in a container to Biggers.

Everyone looked at Roper. He spread his hands. "I was playing him. I
wanted to get some info from him and go to the Resistance with it.
C'mon guys. You got to believe me. I was born here. This is my home. I
love Agalder. She's lying. She created that tape." His voice rose as
five cops hustled him out of the squad room.

Behan hadn't moved during the incident. Now he looked at Mellie. "Good
work, Detective."

The stunned audience, consisting of cops and clerks broke free of
their shock and started talking all at once. Behan leaned toward
Mellie. "Good work." he repeated. "But you painted a target on your
back. Be careful."

She nodded and headed out the door. She needed to see Santorini.

==== Mellie: Detective, Resistance Operative ====

Mellie Kaminsky was feeling pretty cocky after successfully taking
Roper down. She climbed in her little tan AirSedan and lifted off on a
course to the Green Palace. But before she reached her assigned
traffic lane, three AirScooters surrounded her. The men on them were
dressed in black and had black helmets. One pulled right along side
her vehicle and smashed the passenger side window. Mellie shot him
with her phaser, but he kept coming, like it had no effect at all. He
pulled open the passenger door and came in.

She took a crowbar that she kept in the car and swung it with all her
might against his left shoulder as he crawled in the vehicle. That
stopped him. He screamed and fell back against the passenger door. The
door swung open. Mellie pushed hard against the thug. He grabbed her
wrist as he fell out of the sedan. Praying that the seatbelts would
hold, Mellie stabbed him with a knife that she always carried. He let
go and disappeared, falling.

The other two had been waiting to see if their colleague would take
care of the problem. When they saw him fall thousands of meters, they
attacked together. Mellie dived and then rolled her sedan, doing
acrobatic maneuvers that she had learned at the Academy. She came up
behind one of the scooters and rammed him hard enough to leave him
hanging onto his bike with his hands while his legs flailed in midair.

She was just congratulating herself when she looked up to see the
third scooter right in front of her. The rider tried desperately to
get out of her way but there wasn't enough time. She slammed into him
and together they fell.

Desperately Mellie threw the sedan into reverse and managed to
disengage from the scooter. She pulled up hard on the stick, trying to
come out of the dive. And she almost made it.

==== Harlan: Thief, Resistance Operative ====

Harlan had just hopped on his AirScooter when he heard the sound of
the collision in the sky. He looked up. There were just a few sparks
falling. He thought it looked like a sedan vs scooter accident and
took off to see if he could help. He recognized Mellie's sedan as she
pulled free of the scooter wreckage. His heart seemed to stop as the
little sedan's nose was pulled up, away from the hard, hard ground. He
reached for the com to call for help, but all they heard at the Green
Palace was a scream as her sedan plowed into trees along the highway.

He came down almost as fast as she had, his scooter skidding sideways
and throwing up a wave of earth and grass. Running through the trees,
he tripped and fell twice but barely noticed. He found the wreckage
back in the woods. The vehicle was wrecked, steam pouring from the
front. He saw a few flames. But he couldn't see Mellie. The protective
bags covered all the windows. Then he saw a hand pawing at the window.
It dropped to the door handle and the door cracked open about five
inches. The bags were still in the way, but the hand shoved a crowbar
at him. He had the door off in three minutes.

Reaching through the bags, he felt her. He also felt blood. Cutting
the seatbelt with his knife, he started to pull her out. But she
resisted him briefly. She cried out as he removed her from the
vehicle. Her face was covered with blood and she was cradling her
right arm.

He tried to stand but his knees gave out and he sank to the soft
ground. Holding her gently, he wailed, great, heaving sobs that
threatened to tear his chest apart. He tried to talk, to tell her that
his heart would die if she did, but she hugged him, pointing out that
there were flames coming from the front of the car and would he please
take them somewhere else?

He carried her to the road where Santorini, Behan, and most of the
detective squad were just touching down. Mellie lifted her left hand
and waved at them. Behan sagged against his sedan as he realized that
she wasn't dead. Hanson and Biggers gently cleaned some of the blood
off her face. Finding a scalp laceration, they packed it and then
placed a splint on her arm.

She accepted all these ministrations with good grace although she
yelped a few times. By the time the emergency vehicle arrived, she was
already bandaged. The emergency personnel scooped her up and headed
for the hospital. They let Harlan ride with her because they realized
he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Getting her out of his arms
was hard enough.

Mellie was the only one to notice that, while everyone recognized
Harlan, no one made any attempt to restrain him. He was a thief, but
he was also a legend. And Agalder had few legends. Its people tended
to treat those legends with respect.

==== Santorini: Boss of the Resistance ====

Another of those legends watched the lights of the emergency vehicle
disappear into the traffic lanes in the night sky. Santorini had put
his head in his hands and cried when he saw that Mellie was alive. Now
a couple of the detectives were eyeing him. They looked to Lt. Marks
who shook his head. No messing with the legends tonight.

Santorini kept his gaze on the sky, but he didn't miss the exchange.
He smiled as he climbed back into his AirSedan and headed back to the
Green Palace. Watching the lights of the traffic and the city, he was
going over the plans for the next day. He needed to check with Behan
to see when his partner intended to initiate the take-over of the
police headquarters. His very last thought was how much he was looking
forward to peace and prosperity for his planet.

The missile hit his sedan just to the rear of the passenger door and
exploded. Wreckage fell over a four square kilometer area.

Harlan: Thief, Resistance Operative

The fractures in Mellie's arm were multiple and involved both the
forearm and the wrist. So Harlan was sitting outside the surgical
suite when Jurgeson, one of Santorini's aides, came running up to him.

He bent over with his hands on his knees, gasping for air. "They
need...you. At the...Green Palace. Now."

Harlan had stood up. Now he leaned closer to the runner. "Why? What's
going on?"

The man straightened up, putting a hand on the wall. Harlan saw that
his eyes were red and swollen and tears were running down his cheeks.
"Santorini's dead." he said, face screwing up like a little kid's.
"Somebody brought him down with a missile."

Harlan's gut felt like someone had hit him in the gut. He sat down,
staring at nothing. Then he jumped up again. "Wait. No. I just saw
him. He was fine."

The other man nodded. "They got him when he was leaving the scene of
Mellie's crash. Behan's car blew up, too, but he wasn't in it. It was
still on the ground. They don't know yet whether it was another
missile or a bomb."

He took Harlan's arm, trying to drag him away. "Look. You've got to
go. Now. I'll stay here with Mellie. I won't leave her side until you
get back." He pushed Harlan toward the exit. "Now go!"

"But why? Why do they need me so much?"

The other man smiled sadly. "Because you're now the Boss of the
Resistance."

"Me?!"

"Yeah. You. Santorini told us last week. With things coming to a head,
he wanted the order of succession clear in everyone's mind. He even
printed it out and signed it."

Harlan shook his head. "But why me?" he asked.

"Probably because you would ask that question. He said you'd feel
unworthy of the position. You're not cocky." He hesitated and smiled
slightly. "At least not most of the time."

Harlan turned to stare at the door of the OR for a moment. Then he
laid his hand on Jurgeson's shoulder. "You take care of her. They may
come after her again. I'll send backup. Make arrangements to move her
to the Palace as soon as possible."

The Green Palace looked like a bee's hive that someone had just
kicked. He walked in and saw all the red, weepy eyes and snotty noses.
They were all talking at once. The noise was unbearable.

He put two fingers in his mouth gave a piercing whistle. Everybody
shut up and stared at him. "All right. We've lost the Boss. There will
never be another like him. And nobody ever call me Boss." He looked
down at his boots for a moment. "But I want to know what's going on
now. Is anyone missing? Who's looking for the killers? And I want them
brought in alive. Understand? Come on people. This is too important to
stand around and cry. We've got work to do. Get me a sit-rep."

He set up his office in an auditorium. A desk was placed in the middle
and someone remembered to bring a chair. Computers and vid-screens
covered 180 degrees of the walls. There were desks all around,
climbing up to a viewing section at the top. Most of the desks were
occupied with people speaking to faces on screens and to each other. A
line formed in front of Harlan's desk. Most people had simple
questions or suggestions, some of which were important.

John Behan came up behind him and leaned down. He said "Mellie's doing
fine. Drowsy and in no pain at the moment. Jurgeson and three others
that I trust are with her."

Harlan looked up. "How did she take the news about the Boss?"

Behan shrugged. "She was so sleepy that I didn't tell her. I'll drop
back later when she's awake. The staff knows to call me."

He straightened up. "I'll be at APD Headquarters. It sounds like
they're getting restive over there." Smiling slightly, he patted
Harlan on the shoulder and left.

It was several hours before Harlan could break away long enough to see
Mellie. Behan was there, holding Mellie in his arms while she cried.
Harlan felt a vast relief that he didn't have to tell her.

She saw him and gave Behan a hug then held out her good arm to Harlan.
Sitting on the bed, he put his arm around her carefully. His other
hand reached out for Behan. Harlan looked at the older man and saw
infinite weariness and sorrow in his eyes. Behan squeezed his hand and
left and Harlan finally let his tears flow into Mellie's hair.

==== Silver Santorini: Resistance Operative ====

Murphy's surgeons had not let him out from under their gimlet eyes. So
Silver treated him as if he were made of spun telucium and likely to
break at any time. She made him stay in the hospital area. She knew
exactly what would happen if she brought him home. He was just going
to have to wait until the doctors were certain that he was healed.

She was singing as she started out for her parents' suite. They all
lived in the Green Palace. It was the safest and most defensible place
outside of APD Headquarters. She wanted to talk to her father. When
she got there, they told her that she would never be able to talk to
her father again.

Jade, Emerald, Silver, and Garnet were devastated. But they had to
comfort their little sisters, Topaz and Golden. Their mother was in
shock. She sat in a chair and stared at a hologram of her husband.

When Harlan finally was able to visit them, he went to Santorini's
wife, Lavender, and knelt beside her. Silver watched from across the
room as her father's successor spoke in low tones to her mother. At
first, nothing happened. Lavender remained almost catatonic. But
Harlan kept talking and Lavender's head slowly turned to look at the
young man. Once she even smiled. Then she began to weep, silently,
covering her face with her hands. The daughters gathered, pushing
Harlan out of the way. When they finally thought to look for him, he
had left.

==== Harlan: Leader of the Resistance ====

After leaving the Santorini suite, Harlan returned to the auditorium,
now dubbed the "War Room". He called for attention and stood by his
desk, looking up at the rows of desks and those crowded into the
viewing area.

"The time is now." he said. "Now we go out and fight." He swept his
arm around the huge room. "We all have assignments. We know what to
do. Some of us will succeed. Some of us will fail. Some of us will die
tonight. But the Resistance will win through. We will have freedom.
Now go - go for Agalder! And may all the gods there are bless you and
watch over you."

He raised his fist. "Agalder!"

The word came back at him with a thousand voices "AGALDER!!!!"

He stood for a minute, watching his forces file out, then turned to
leave. He ran into the Santorini sisters. Jade, Emerald, Silver, and
Garnet stood between him and the door.

Silver said "We're coming with you.". It was a quiet statement of fact
that boded no argument.

Harlan opened his mouth to protest but remembered when he had
patronized Mellie and her reaction to his chauvinistic attitude. He
shuddered.

Looking into their eyes, he saw the fiery rage. But it was a cold,
calculating fire and he nodded.

"Thank you." he said.

They climbed into two AirSedans. Three more sedans followed them.
Harlan led the way to the Big House. He had to bring the thieves and
assassins under the control of the Resistance. He had to find Cassidy.

The neighborhood around the Big House was deserted. Houses stood
empty, doors hanging open. Some windows were open. Some broken. A dog
came running up to them, whining, lost. Jade grabbed her and put her
in one of the sedans where she'd be safe and warm.

The Big House was lit up like a small city. Lights were on everywhere.
The Resistance group could hear shots and explosions. Windows were
missing in places. Doors were on the ground or hanging askew.

The group surged forward, but Harlan called out "Stop!"

People stopped and looked at him.

"We have to find Cassidy and his forces. If we go in there now, we
won't be able to tell friend from foe." He looked at the house. "I
know that place. I can find my way around."

Looking back at the group, he said "You wait here. I'll find Cassidy
and come back."

Jade, Emerald, and Silver moved to stand with him. "You don't know
that house as well as we do." Said Emerald. "We'll come with you and
act as your runners."

Harlan had to swallow his reaction. He nodded and they moved off into
the night. They were all wearing black and they faded into the shadows
within a few meters.

Emerald led them to a door that was hanging ajar. The lock had been
blown off. The door opened into a kitchen the size of a warehouse. The
ceilings were at least five to six meters high. Moving quickly, but
silently, they ran, crouching between huge machines and long tables.
There was some fighting going on at one end of the room. Emerald led
them in that direction.

Huddling in the shelter of a freezer, they tried to make sense of what
they were seeing. The brilliant flashes from phasers lit up the scene
at intervals, but they could not identify the combatants.

Jade suggested that they withdraw and try another exit from the
kitchen. They turned to go to the other end and heard the sound of
running footsteps coming closer. A young man ran up to them,
completely ignoring the phasers that were pointed at him.

He glanced at them and said "Come on. Cassidy wants you in the
ballroom - now."
Then he turned and ran back the way he had come. Harlan and the
Santorini sisters stared after his departing form.

The man turned and saw them standing still and ran back. "Are you
coming? Hurry up." And off he went again.

The four of them looked at each other, gave simultaneous shrugs, and
ran after him.

Their guide led them thru a maze of hallways and up and down
stairwells. The sounds of gunfire and distant explosions grew louder
and faded and grew louder again. Finally they ran up to a huge, ornate
door that stood open with guards on either side. They burst into a
room even larger than the kitchen. The ceiling was three stories up
with mezzanines running around at the second and third floors. Floor
to ceiling windows looked out on the lawn.

Groups of people were scattered around the room, most leaning over
tables, looking at holograms, some talking. Emerald spotted Cassidy
across the room and they headed for him.

Harlan reached the new Chief's side, but Cassidy ignored him and took
Emerald into his arms. He spoke in her ear for a moment and then
reached out and brought Jade and Silver into his embrace. The four of
them stood, heads together, for what seemed like an hour to Harlan but
was probably only a minute or two.

An explosion sounded as if the battle was getting up-close and
personal, but no one in the room even looked up.

Cassidy finally turned his attention to Harlan. He nodded toward the
door. "Yes. They are getting closer." He grinned. "Would you believe
me if I said it was all part of my plan?"

Harlan didn't smile. "No."

"Then you'd be wrong. They are moving into this section." He pointed
to a wing of the building that extended out into a wooded area. "Here,
here, and here." He pointed to three sections of outside wall. "These
are hidden doors. Our forces are just outside and when these thugs
enter through here" he pointed again "we will attack from three
sides."

Then he smiled and added "If everything goes according to plan."
Shaking his head, Cassidy said "And we all know how likely that is."