Steven Harper - Trickster

"Mr. Markovi has agreed to see you," he said with a certain amount of surprise in his voice.

He ushered them into a large, airy office. A blond man with a prominent chin waited behind a castle-sized desk against a bank of windows. A potted cacao tree blocked some of the sunshine streaming in through the glass. The man's tunic was edged with silver, and he forced Harenn and Kendi to reach across the huge expanse of his desk to shake hands. His grip was iron-hard. Kendi gave a mental sigh. The negotiations were going to be rough.

"I'm Douglas Markovi," said the blond man. "What's this about? The computer said you were asking about one of my hands."

"My name is Kendi Weaver and this is my associate Harenn Mashib," he said. "We have a problem that I'm hoping you can help us solve."

Douglas Markovi sat in a tall leather chair behind his desk. He did not offer seats to Kendi and Harenn, though there were smaller chairs behind them. Kendi decided to remain standing for the moment. Although it made him look like an inferior, it did give him and Harenn a height advantage.

"What problem would that be?"

"You have a-a hand on your farm named Jerry," Kendi said. "According to public record, you bought him two weeks ago."

"I may have," Markovi said. "We acquired several hands recently, but I don't know all of them."

"He is my son," Harenn blurted out.

Markovi raised a single blond eyebrow, a trick Kendi hated-the few people he knew who could actually do it invariably used it for sarcastic effect.

"Jerry was kidnapped by his father as a baby and sold without Harenn's knowledge or permission," Kendi said. "This is a violation of Independence Confederation slave code and a violation of the slave codes set down by the Five Green Worlds."

"This isn't the Independence Confederation," Markovi said. "And the FGW doesn't seem to exist much anymore."

"You are correct, sir," Kendi said. He hadn't really expected a legal ploy to work. "However, I'm not asking you to hand Jerry over for free. I'm offering to buy him from you."

"I just acquired him," Markovi said. "And spent a fair amount of time having him trained. Why would I want to sell him?"

"Humanitarianism," Kendi said bluntly. "The chance to reunite a torn family. The chance to let a mother hold her own child again. And the chance to profit by it all. I'm willing to pay you twice Jerry's original purchase price, to reimburse you for your time and effort."

"Jerry, Jerry." Markovi tapped his desk and a holographic computer screen popped into being. "Oh yes-the damaged goods. Our regular slaver bought him from a small communications company. Little Jerry was just starting to sense the Dream when the Despair hit. None of the company's Silent slaves were able to reach the Dream afterward, and the company wasn't big enough to survive long without Silent revenue. They went bankrupt right quick, had to sell off their livestock. Looks like we got him for a song."

Harenn's hands were clenched so tightly Kendi was afraid her palms would start bleeding. "Triple price, then," he said, "to ensure it's worth your while. Hard currency."

"Well, here's the thing." Markovi leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. "The boy's seen a lot of our operation by now, and security around here's pretty tight. We can't sell off hands who might blab secrets to Venus's competitors."

"How much could he have learned in two weeks?"

"The chocolate business is cutthroat. You'd be surprised," Markovi continued as if Kendi hadn't spoken. "For all I know, you two work for Wexford Chocolate and Jerry is your mole. Wexford would love to know exactly how we do things around here."

Harenn said, "I brought his birth certificate and genetic-"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you did," Markovi interrupted. "But I'm afraid that I couldn't sell the boy even if I wanted to. FGW law says only a slave dealer can sell hands less than a year after purchase. I sell you this Jerry boy now, and I'm in trouble for trafficking in slaves without a license. Sorry, but you understand where I'm coming from. No sale."

"You just said the FGW doesn't much exist anymore," he said aloud, trying to keep his temper. "They aren't in a position to uphold-"

"Sorry, Junior. Can't do it."

"Five times the price," Kendi said tightly. "I might even be able to come up with six."

"Wouldn't matter if you handed me a hundred and your associate here gave me a blow job," Markovi drawled. "Joe and Alex here will show you out now."

Kendi turned. He hadn't heard the office door open, nor had he sensed the two heavily-muscled goons glide into the room. Harenn's eyes went wild. She lunged across the desk and grabbed Markovi by the throat.

"You have to sell him to me," she hissed. "He is my son, you bastard! Give me my son! "

"Harenn!" Kendi shouted. He grabbed her shoulders and tried to pull her away. Markovi's eyes bulged and he made choking sounds. Joe appeared next to Markovi and pried Harenn's fingers away. The moment he broke her grip, Harenn balled up a fist and socked Markovi in the face. He stumbled backward with a yelp.

"Get them the fuck out of here!" he howled, one hand over his nose. Blood trickled between his fingers.

Joe grabbed Harenn's wrists and twisted her hands behind her. Kendi spun to face him. He was the man who had originally shown them in.

"Let her go!" Kendi snapped.

"Not until we're outside," Joe replied through clenched teeth. Harenn fought his grip, cursing and snarling. He pushed her firmly and none-too-gently toward the door. Alex put a heavy hand on Kendi's shoulder to escort him away as well. Kendi shook it off with a glare and followed Joe and Harenn out the office door.

"Bitch!" Markovi yelled after them. "You'll never see your little brat again, I'll make sure of that!"

Harenn renewed her struggles, and in the end it took both Joe and Alex to get her out to the parking lot. Kendi, not knowing what else to do, followed.

"Get into the car, sir," Joe said. "Our security computer will take control of your vehicle and drive it from the grounds. If you try to come back-" he cracked his knuckles pointedly "-it'll involve a lot of broken bones."

Kendi silently climbed in. The moment he closed the door, the groundcar rushed out of the parking lot and zipped up the driveway. The gates swung open just in time to let the vehicle through and they crashed shut behind it.

"Thank you for visiting Sunnytree Farms," chirped the computer. Kendi punched the screen with his fist and it shut up. He turned to Harenn.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered. Harenn pressed a hand against her window. "He is in there and he doesn't even know I am here for him. He doesn't even know."

An unfamiliar, gasping sort of sound issued from her veil. It took Kendi a moment to realize that Harenn was crying. It was the first time he had seen her do such a thing. He found it unnerving, as if he were standing on a boulder that had suddenly shifted beneath him.

"We aren't done yet, Harenn," he said grimly, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyes red above her veil.

"I promised you I'd get your son back and I will," Kendi told her. "I already have a plan."

"Exactly what's supposed to be wrong with our system?" Markovi said.

The blond woman shifted an impressive wad of gum from one cheek to the other. She wore a blue jumpsuit with matching cap and carried a toolbox. A holographic ID badge floating near her lapel proclaimed her an employee of Compulink, Inc.

"Look, mister-how many times you want this explained?" she said. "Our programmers found a potential glitch in the programs we installed for your irrigation and fertilizer systems. Nothing has gone wrong yet, but something probably will and I'm here to fix it before it does. We're not even charging you, since it's our fault the glitch is there in the first place. What's the big deal?"