A Thief's Plight: Part 2 of the Watchers Trilogy

By W.E.B. Fox

Lana is back to her old tricks, stealing from the rich to give to...well, to give to herself really. And once again she has drawn the wrong kind of attention, this time from sleazy casino owners and small-time drug dealers...not to mention self proclaimed 'survival' experts, who have an unhealthy obsession with sniper rifles. It is now up to Chris and Dunc to find and save the young thief, before she makes one final, fatal mistake. Meanwhile, General Anders of the Special Defence Force is on an urgent mission. A thousand innocent people are dead, killed when their liner is ambushed in deep space. The motive is elusive, as are the identities of those who committed the atrocity. What is clear, however, is that Anders' former commanding officer, a certain General Thyrod, is somehow involved, and that a strange, alien artefact lies at the heart of the mystery. Aided by his unorthodox ship and crew, Anders must now solve the crime before more innocent lives are lost.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9780244967659

Book preview

o7

Prologue

They Still Watched

They still watched.

Even though they had put their plan into action, it was still important to monitor the activities of their enemies, and their pawns. Many things could still go wrong. 

So they watched. It was, after all, what they did best.

They watched the strain that called themselves Human, reviled by how they bred and multiplied at an uncontrollable rate. In particular, they watched the one named Thyrod. They watched his movements, his conversations, but most importantly, they watched his mind. It was a dangerous mind, one they needed to keep a very tight rein on.

They also watched other strains. Ones that were perhaps less virulent, but almost as dangerous. Some could prove useful to their cause, but not the Fisians. The Fisians were of particular concern. They had one of the two great objects of power in their possession, objects that must not be present together at the final reckoning. Where the other object lay, they did not yet know, but it was only a matter of time before it would reappear, and when it did, they would be there.

So they watched. 

They waited.

They prepared. 

Chapter 1

Tara Chianti

Everyone knew Geoff Goodman, and Geoff Goodman knew everyone. Well, everyone, that is, who frequented his casino. The competition between casinos was tough, on the vacation planet of Veluria, so Geoff was out to make sure his patrons had the best possible time, whilst they lost the largest amount of money. He found that the personal touch worked very well. If people thought they were friends with the proprietor, then they would feel special and trust the establishment more. It meant a lot of walking the floor of the joint, meeting, greeting and occasionally sleeping with the clientèle, but it was worth the effort. His expensively sculptured jaw often ached from all the false smiling, but he had made a lot of money that way.

Hi, Geoff, said a lady at the slot machines as he passed.

Hello, Mrs Goldstein, he replied. How are you today?

On a losing streak, I'm afraid. My luck is not in it today. And please, it's Sophie.

I'm sorry to hear that, Sophie, Geoff lied. He looked around for the nearest member of staff. Rebecca?

Yes, Mr Goodman? said a waitress, walking over.

Food and drink is on the house for Sophie today, as a special favour to a special customer.

Of course, Mr Goodman, replied Rebecca.

Oh, Geoff, that's very kind of you, said Sophie.

Geoff smirked to himself. The amount of money it would cost to feed and water Sophie was tiny in comparison to the money she was going to lose, but she was happy, and he was richer, so it was all good.

My pleasure, he said, giving her his best, surgically enhanced smile. He wandered on to the other gamblers. He greeted them all by name. For the ones who were losing badly, he would give some perk or another, just like he had done for Sophie. For the ones who were winning, he would have a quiet word to his staff to make sure their winning streak stopped. This would usually be just at the point when they got too cocky and bet all their winnings on a single hand or roll. He could always perk them up again later. Being able to control a customer's winnings and losses was, of course, illegal, and morally very questionable. Geoff, however, was not the sort of person to have much empathy for other people, nor care much for the law.

Eventually, he reached the main bar area. The bar was the entry point into the casino, and it was open to the general public. Even though he did not, relatively speaking, make much money from the drink sales, he still actively encouraged people to come in from the resort so that he could charm them into a little flutter or two. Giving them some free chips to start with was a good hook.

He scanned around all the unfamiliar faces enjoying a drink. Even though he had not yet met most of them, he still knew their names. Everyone who entered the bar from the street would be surreptitiously scanned and identified. This sort of thing was perfectly legal and considered a security essential, especially in a place like a casino. What was very much illegal were the implants in Geoff's eyes which displayed all the ID details to him in real time. This sort of augmented reality had been banned by law even before the colony wars, but once again, that did not stop someone like Geoff.

It was not just their names he could see, either. Pretty much their whole life stories were available to him, including the all important details like credit checks and history of gambling issues. Just by thinking the right commands, courtesy of another banned implant, Geoff could scroll through and digest all of this, allowing him to select his customers with care. As normal, most people in the bar area were very ordinary and not very rich. He quickly ignored them. Instead, his eyes fell on two seedy looking, but very expensively dressed, gentlemen who were sitting at a table near the bar itself. Their police record showed them to have previous convictions for small time drug dealing. Geoff pondered for a moment, then passed them by. They certainly had the money, but they could potentially be trouble, so best leave them for the more legitimate establishments. Instead, his eyes fixed on a young woman sitting on a stool at the bar. His data showed her to be Tara Chianti, a rich heiress. She was a famous socialite, happy to whittle away her father's hard earned money on parties and expensive shoes. Geoff had heard of her, as he liked to keep up to date on celebrity gossip. It was good for business to know who had more money than sense. She had arrived in Veluria a few days ago on her very own yacht, the Lady of Cyprus, and had been seen spending a great deal of money since. She was perfect. And attractive too. Geoff felt he could share some extra special hospitality with her. He went and sat down on the stool next to her.

My usual please, George, he said to the barman. The barman passed him a scotch on the rocks. Geoff then turned to the heiress. It was time for his best line.

Lana had been sipping slowly at her glass of tonic water for nearly an hour now, much to the frustration of the barman. She did not really want a drink, but the bar was the perfect spot to eavesdrop on the important conversation at the table behind her. The trouble with this, though, was that for some bizarre reason, men seemed to be compelled to try to chat up women sitting on their own at bars. Who came up with this stupid notion anyway? No woman ever tried to chat up a lone man propping up a bar. In fact, lone men propping up bars were usually the last people you would want to make a pass at, so why was it any different the other way around? She had seen off at least half a dozen suitors in the last hour, complete with their stupid chat up lines. Why couldn't they get it into their thick skulls that this woman might just want to sit and enjoy a drink on her own? Well, she did not actually want to do that, but they did not need to know what she was really doing.

It could not have been more than five minutes after she had sent the last loser packing when the next guy sat down next to her.

Here we go, she thought, rolling her eyes. The man ordered a drink for himself, but unlike the others, did not offer her one. Despite herself, that actually annoyed her.

Would you sleep with a complete stranger? asked the man.

What?! she said, nearly spitting out her drink. Ew, no. fuck off!

No, me neither. My name is Geoff Goodman. I am the owner of this place. If I am not mistaken, you are the famous Tara Chianti? There, we're not strangers any more. His eyes twinkled as he gave her a smile.

Piss off, creep! Lana replied.

Geoff smiled again.

Just my little joke, he chuckled, as if what he had said had been enormously funny. I heard you were in town. I'm honoured to have such a celebrity in my establishment.

Celebrity? Oh, right, Lana replied. She silently cursed herself on her current choice of alias. Her preference in the past had always been for nondescript people with ordinary lives. Now, however, she had her own ship, and it was a bit difficult to explain that away, unless the person she was pretending to be was extraordinarily wealthy. Sure, the Aphrodite had a cloaker, but it was difficult to dock at a spaceport when they could not see you. Instead, with the use of a chameleon paint job, and a hack or two of the shipping register, her ship had a few aliases of his own, complete with unique names and liveries. Aphrodite absolutely loved this. Just as it was the case with her hacked pod, Aphrodite seemed enormously pleased about his role in his owner's less-than-honourable activities. Lana struggled a little to understand this, as she had certainly not programmed this into them. The world of computer A.I. psychology was very strange indeed.

Can I offer you a drink? On the house? said Geoff.

Lana rolled her eyes again. She then noticed that the two men, who she had been listening in on, were starting to get up and leave. One of them had a very new looking briefcase with him.

Look, Mr...er...what was it again? she said, also getting to her feet.

Goodman, but please, call me Geoff.

Geoff, right. Look, I have to go. Sorry. I'm sure you are a very nice man, and I would love to get to know you more, but I have to go....Bye. With that, she left Geoff sitting at the bar, and dashed off after the rapidly disappearing men.

Was it something I said? he called out after her, but she was already through the doors and out onto the street.

Lana made a mental note; Geoff sounded like the sort of person she could do business with at a later time. The sort of business where she relieves him of the contents of his safe.

It was a hot day outside. It was always a hot day on Veluria. It was, because of this climate, that it had become the galaxy's favourite resort world. Thirty degrees Celsius and not a cloud in the sky, the warm sun beat down on Lana's neck as she walked up the palm tree lined promenade. Despite her rush, she still glanced up into the azure sky. Veluria's large moon, Vegas, with its ring system was visible today, and nearly full. The sight took her breath away.

Geoff's Bar and Casino was just one of many attractions along the sea front of this particular resort. She followed the two men into another, much larger casino complex by the marina, keeping just out of sight of them. She already knew where they were going, so following too closely was not worth the risk. The important thing here was timing. She absolutely had to be in a particular place at an exact moment.

She made her way through the complex, passing vast rows of slot machines and gaming tables. As she neared her planned destination, one of the high heels on her very expensive shoes, a requirement of her disguise you understand, snapped. This sent her reeling into a large potted rubber plant. As the leaves folded around her, she screamed.

Now, it was just a rubber plant, but after her close encounter with one of Albert Winterbottom's carnivorous plants, she had developed a real issue with large flora. She screamed again.

Help! HELP!

Hey, hey, came a voice. Are you OK, miss?

She felt strong hands on her arms. They pulled her away from the plant. She looked up at her saviour. He was one of the men she had been following.

I...I...I'm fine, thank you, she said, trying desperately to regain her senses. Heel...snapped.

The other man looked at the first, making a sort of drinking motion with his hand. The first nodded, trying not to laugh.

You sure you OK?

Fine, yes, fine...thanks. Gotta go, she started to flee.

Hey, said the second man. I seen you before?

Lana froze. Had they realised she had been following them?

You that Tara Chianti, aren't you?

Lana relaxed.

Yes, she said, with a wan smile.

Listen, we have an important business deal to attend to right now, but how about you and me have a drink laters?

What about me? asked the first man.

What about you? the second man replied.

That would be lovely, said Lana. But right now, I have to go...bye. She hobbled off towards a nearby ladies toilet.

Hey, wait! The first man came up and grabbed her arm.

She stiffened with fear.

You forgot this, he continued, passing her the broken heel. These are expensive. I'm sure you could get them glued?

Thank you again, she said, then bolted inside the toilet. She selected a cubicle, slammed it shut, then locked it. She sat down on the closed toilet lid and buried her head in her hands. She needed to calm down, and calm down fast.

What are you trying to do, chatting up celebrities? If you hadn't noticed, Ryan, we ain’t exactly on legit business right now.

Carlton, man, she was fit, though. And loaded, replied Ryan. I wouldn't need to do this shit if I got with someone like her. Ooo-eee, those legs, man! What I would do....

Man, you can go jerk off later, Carlton replied. Right now, we need to get that briefcase over to the Oswald Gang, otherwise they may choose to remove that overexcited dick of yours. Then what are you going to think with, huh? Come on.

Ryan and Carlton hurried along through the casino and up into the multi storey parking bays at the top of the building. There they found Ryan's car. It was, of course, a prestige marque, complete with very expensive, not to mention ostentatious customisations. It had a metallic gold paint job, unnecessarily large fins and control surfaces, and the most impossibly shiny silver trims on its retractable wheels.

Next time I'm buying the car, said Carlton. This thing doesn't exactly blend in.

You dissing my ride, man? Ryan replied.

Yes, said Carlton. It's tricked out like you've backed it into a brothel's waiting room.

Fuck you, man, you have no idea of style, said Ryan.

Ryan opened the boot. It was lined in a synthetic, white leopard effect carpet. Carlton looked amused, but didn't say anything. He put the briefcase in the boot and Ryan slammed it shut.

They got in the front of the car, which was trimmed out in similar carpet, except this time it was deep pile. The seats were a pink leather.

What? said Ryan, looking at Carlton's expression of amusement mixed with nausea.

I'm sayin' nothin', man, Carlton replied. Let's just get this over with, before I throw up.

Ryan sucked his teeth. He then spoke to the car.

Hey, ride, let's go to the Excelsior resort. Park up in the underground garage at the Super Nova Casino – sub level 5.

Of course, Ryan, said the car in a rather sexy, mildly aroused, female voice. "You know I would do anything for you."

Carlton smiled and shook his head as the car lifted off and out of its bay. It navigated itself through the narrow lanes between the bays, then up and out into the sky. It circled up over the resort to join the main air corridor, a powerful burst from its rear thrusters quickly accelerating them to match the speed of the other traffic. It was quite busy in the corridor, but a large freight transport flashed them in. Carlton looked around at the occupants of other vehicles near them. There seemed to be some pointing and laughing going on. He slunk down into the seat a little.

Man, this is embarrassing, he said. As they followed the air corridor out over the sea, he looked back at the resort they just left. Have you been to this Excelsior place before?

Yeah, man, Ryan replied. It's so much better than that shit hole we just left.

What's it like?

You'll see.

There were many, separate resorts on Veluria, catering for the varied tastes of holiday makers. The resort of Sol Arenam Maris, from where they had just left, was very much set up for the beach goer. It certainly had other attractions, such as casinos and amusement parks, but it was mainly a low-rise affair, full of bars, restaurants, marinas and, of course, miles of white sand beaches and imported palm trees.

The Excelsior resort was for people with different, more exotic tastes. There were still plenty of bars and casinos, but you could buy much more than just drinks and spins on the roulette wheel here. Strip joints and exotic dancing clubs were the order of the day, quite often combined within the casinos and their associated hotels. These places would offer something for everyone, well, everyone not creeped-out by frequenting these sorts of places. They catered for most orientations and fetishes, including robotic and alien, and you did not have to just look either. Offering sex for money, even with robots, was illegal across Earth and her colonies, but there was a local law on Veluria that stated prostitution in itself was not illegal, but that paying for it was. This opened up a loophole which meant that you could, for example, buy an expensive hour in a hotel room, with some extras thrown in for free.

There was another kind of recreation there, too. Recreation that no loophole in the law allowed, but that did not stop it taking place anyway. This was where Ryan and Carlton could see opportunity. They had access to some rather special recreational substances. Not your average drugs, you understand. Cocaine, Heroin, etc. were, despite being illegal, common place in resorts like Excelsior. What Ryan and Carlton had instead, however, was something almost impossible to get hold of on Veluria, and therefore it commanded a very high price. A price the Oswald gang were willing to pay, and one that would make Ryan and Carlton very rich men.

It was not long until they saw the resort on the horizon. Towering thousands of metres into the air, the collection of massive hotels and casinos were an imposing site. They were all interconnected by a network of walkways and ground shuttle tubes, meaning you could travel throughout the resort without ever having to go down to ground level. Taking advantage of the planet's climate, the tops of most of the buildings sprouted huge terraces, complete with palm trees, hanging gardens, swimming pools, open-air bars and thousands of deckchairs and sun loungers.

Ryan's car slowed and exited the stream of traffic in the air corridor. It dropped down between the tops of the buildings, giving them a better view of the luxury, and debauchery, the resort had to offer.

Look at this shit! said Carlton. This is sweet.

I thought you'd like it, Ryan replied.

Man, slow down! Those waitresses on that terrace over there are topless!

Ooo-eee! Ryan replied, slowing the car so they could get a good eyeful. Man, I love this place! We're gonna have to come back here later!

Oh yeah, man, Carlton agreed. Once we get what we owe back to Grinder.

Fuck Grinder, Ryan said. That asshole can wait.

Man, Grinder is not a guy you leave waiting, Carlton replied. Did you hear what he did to Jonny and Guff?

Yeah, and who told you about that? said Ryan. Grinder did, that's who. It's bullshit from start to finish. It's bluff to make him sound tough. I don't even think you could do that to a person, without killing them, instantly, and neither of them are dead as far as I know? And what a stupid name; Grinder? What does he grind? Salt? Pepper?

And how sure can you be, huh? said Carlton. No, we stick to the plan and go straight back to Geoff's bar in 'Maris and give him what we owe him out of our profits today. Then we come back here and you can let your dick do all the thinking it likes.

Man, you got some obsession with my dick, or something? Not that I blame you, mind, Ryan chuckled. There's a whole religion based around it, man.

What the fuck are you talking about?

I've got a whole bunch of chicks ready to kneel in front of it, if you know what I'm sayin'.

Just shut the fuck up and drive.

The car continued on its course between the buildings, dropping eventually to ground level, then into an entrance to an underground car park. It followed the access tube down five levels until they reached an empty parking area. Empty, that is, except for one stretched limousine. As they pulled into a parking bay on the opposite row, two very hefty looking men climbed out of the limo. They both wore smart suits and sunglasses, even though they were five floors underground. They were not obviously armed, but Ryan suspected they all had holsters under their jackets.

Looks like he brought the goons, he said. Are you packing?

Of course, said Carlton, patting the breast of his jacket.

Good, let's go.

Bob the toilet attendant was mopping the floor of the ladies. This was normally the job of a 'bot, but the casino liked to hire humans to do the menial tasks, as it was considered a classy thing to do. Bob had come to Veluria to look for work, hoping to get a job in one of the casinos. He had succeeded, but not in exactly the area he had wanted. He was rather fussy about his appearance, so working amongst the excrement of others was not something he relished.

He came across a locked cubicle door. This was worrying as he had already called into the toilet to check if anyone was there, and had got no answer. Had someone died in there? He had heard from his colleagues that this was not an uncommon thing. A run of bad luck on the roulette wheel could end in suicide. A drug overdose was another possibility. Cringing slightly, he knocked on the door.

Anyone in there? he asked.

Er, yes, sorry, came a woman's voice.

Relief washed over him.

Are you OK, he asked.

Yes, sorry, came the reply. I've eaten something that's not agreed with me. I'll be out in a bit.

OK, no problems. I'll come back and clean that cubicle later.

Ryan, and Carlton got out of the car, collected the briefcase from the boot, then walked towards the suited men. At the same time the suited men started to walk towards Ryan and Carlton. They eventually met in the middle, equidistant between the two cars.

Gentlemen, said Carlton, nodding at the men. The men did not reply, nor make any gesture. They simply stood, and stared.

Er... started Ryan, but before he could speak further, another door on the limo opened. Out of the door stepped a relatively small man of middle years. His short hair, shaved close on the sides, was jet black, most likely dyed. He also sported sunglasses, and was dressed in a black t-shirt and faded blue jeans. He walked slowly up to the group, serious expression on his face. He carried an identical suitcase to the one Carlton was carrying. When he reached the side of