Tales From the Terran Republic

Chapter 288: Never Make Uhrrbet Cry Pt 1

Uhrrbet shot awake, her nose absolutely drooling with stress tears.

She sat up in her bed, her tail thrashing.

“Did you have another bad dream, mama?” Kurr asked sleepily from his instaloft camping bed (surprisingly comfy).

“No, dear,” Uhrrbet replied gently. “I just woke up early, that’s all.”

“It’s wrong to lie,” Kurr said accusingly.

I dreamed about trying to drown you again.

“It’s nothing,” Uhrrbet replied.

Kurr let out a disapproving snort.

“Did you just snort at me?” Uhrrbet asked with amusement.

“No.”

“It’s wrong to… Never mind,” Uhrrbet snickered as Kurr grinned at her. Kurr was turning into a Terran before her very eyes, not a bad thing. He was becoming a little asshole, but the right sort of little asshole, one that would do very well in the real world.

“Kurr?”

“Yes, mama?”

“Would you like to go to the range with me this afternoon?”

“Really?!?”

“Kurr!” Uhrrbet whispered urgently, “It’s too early to be making noise!”

“Sorry!” Kurr whispered. “Are you really going to take me to the range?” he asked quietly.

“All of your classmates know how to shoot,” she replied, “You need to know, for social reasons, if nothing else.”

And life finds you quickly, she thought sadly. You need to be prepared.

“Will you get me a gun?”

“When you know how to use it safely,” Uhrrbet replied.

“I want a LeCroix Armory 1911.”

“There is no way you can… You know what,” Uhrrbet smiled wickedly, “We’ll see if the range has one for you to try… But do you have a second choice?”

“A Zojirushi Wasp.”

“That’s a submachine gun, dear.”

“You aren’t gonna let me carry concealed, so why does it matter?”

“If I were, what would you choose? And don’t say a 1911. You would almost need a backpack for that.”

“Hmm,” Kurr mused, “Maybe a 5mm Ranger Diana?”

“Now that’s a sensible choice,” Uhrrbet said approvingly. “We’ll definitely try one of those as well.”

“Cool. I can’t wait!” Kurr said excitedly (and quietly).

Uhrrbet looked over at the large pet bed in the corner of the living room where she and Kurr slept on collapsing camping mattresses. Nama hadn’t moved.

That’s odd. He usually wakes up when I do.

Uhrrbet got up and put on her embroidered quilt robe that was made from scraps from her shop and walked over to him.

“Nama?” she asked quietly.

There was no reply.

“Nama?” she asked a bit louder.

Nothing.

She knelt and gave him a little shake.

Nothing.

“Nama!” Uhrrbet exclaimed with alarm as she started to really shake him, “Nama!”

His body flopped without any resistance.

He was cold.

She pressed her ear to the slits that served as his nostrils.

He wasn’t breathing.

She cradled his lifeless head and wept as Kurr quickly dialed 911.

***

“What happened to him?” Uhrrbet demanded as Nama was being loaded onto a gurney by EMS.

“The medical examiner will find out,” a uniformed peace officer replied somberly. “Does he have any next of kin?”

“Not that I know of,” Uhrrbet replied. “He never mentioned any.”

“And what is your relationship with the deceased?”

“I… I was his employer… And his… his friend…”

The peace officer nodded. This was often the case down here.

“Did he have any medical conditions?”

“None that I was aware of,” Uhrrbet said. “I knew I should have forced him to get a checkup!” she wailed. “He didn’t want to be… Why didn’t I make him?”

Uhrrbet burst into tears, the mucus from her snout running down her robe.

“As his… his de facto next of kin,” the peace officer said gently, “You will be informed of any findings…”

The peace officer paused.

“Until this matter is fully investigated,” he said politely, “You need to keep us informed of your location… all of you,” he added as he addressed the rest of the household, who were all gathered around him. “Preferably, you shouldn’t leave town. You should also be advised that you all have a temporary travel hold, and this has been already communicated to the transportation network. None of you are under any suspicion at this time. It’s just what we do at times like this. The medical examiner should have this resolved by the end of the day, tomorrow at the latest.”

“…Thank you…” Uhrrbet said between sobs.

After the police and EMS left, Uhrrbet took a deep breath, dried her snout, and selected her nicest dress.

“You can’t be going in today,” Shalez, her Rtoon “landlord”, the xeno who actually held the lease to the apartment that she and her roommates shared, said incredulously.

“Life is tragedy,” Uhrrbet said coolly, “but business is business. You bury the dead on your lunch break.”

“Creators…” Shalez muttered as Uhrrbet retired to the restroom to dress.

***

“You did not have to accompany me…” Uhrrbet said to Evoron that afternoon as they stood in front of the medical examiner’s office, “but it is appreciated, thank you.”

“We are a ‘couple’ after all,” Evoron replied, “It maintains our deception… Besides,” he added quietly, “I consider you a friend and this… It’s never easy.”

Uhrrbet just nodded silently. And went inside with Evoron right behind her.

***

“Your friend was very ill,” a woman with graying brown hair and wearing a white lab coat said, “and was for quite some time.”

She consulted the tablet in her hands.

“His internal physiology is unusual, and his species is not in the system. Did he ever mention where he was from?”

“He was not very forthcoming about his past,” Uhrrbet replied. “He just said that it was a bad place.”

“That would explain our findings,” the woman said with a sympathetic but professional tone.

“What happened to him?” Uhrrbet asked.

“I was hoping you could help us with that,” the coroner said. “His, for lack of a better word, ‘lungs’ were filled with what we believe to be abnormal growths. These growths entered his bloodstream, where they lodged throughout his body and continued to grow. If he was a human, we would say he had advanced cancer.”

“Could… Could it have been treated?” Uhrrbet asked in a strangled tone.

“Curing it would not have been assured,” the woman said, “however, this sort of thing has been successfully treated for a number of species, including ones where we didn’t have the best records. A standard surgical nanobot swarm can be programmed to detect the difference between…”

Uhrrbet let out a strangled sob.

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

“It says here that you were his employer?”

“I was his friend,” Uhrrbet sobbed. “But yes, I was his employer.”

The medical examiner nodded gravely.

“We’ve seen this phenomenon before,” she said, “especially with xenos who have come from less than good circumstances. He was likely afraid that you would fire him if you thought him infirm.”

“I would never…” Uhrrbet gasped, “He was part of my household. You don’t discard your staff like that. You just don’t! I have money. I have so much money! I would have… Creators!... Why didn’t he tell me?”

“What, exactly, did you employ him to do?” The coroner asked in a supportive voice as she idly activated her tablet’s voice recorder.

“I wasn’t sure when he approached me, desperate for someone to ‘buy’ him,” Uhrrbet sighed sadly.

“You… bought him?”

“No, I employed him,” Uhrrbet replied, her annoyance momentarily overcoming her grief, “And I kept telling him that…”

She laughed sadly.

“The dumbass never quite understood the difference,” she sighed, “he hated taking his mandated breaks… I have all of the applicable documentation should it be required.”

“So, what, exactly, did you have him do?” the woman asked a bit more directly.

Uhrrbet twitched her whiskers, in this case, a Garthran raised eyebrow.

“I originally just had him help out around my seamstress shop,” Uhrrbet replied a tad suspiciously, “but it turned out that he was a very skilled potter.”

She paused.

“No. That is doing him an injustice. He was a ceramic artist. I kept telling him that he should open his own gallery, but I think the whole idea frightened him. So, I continued as his nominal employer and handled the business end of his art. It was all in accordance with the laws and accepted practices of Terra and of the Republic Artisan’s Alliance. He… He was well on his way to being quite successful.”

“I see,” the woman replied. “And he did nothing else for you?”

“Well,” Uhrrbet replied, “He preferred a charcoal-fired kiln… and it did add additional value to his creations. He would often take trips to the Tangles to collect deadwood and fire charcoal… before he was able to afford his own assistant.”

“I see.”

“Why do you ask?” Uhrrbet inquired. “Did something happen as a result of his previous occupation?”

“What was that, if you don’t mind?”

“He said that he was a slave,” Uhrrbet snarled, “and that he was discarded because he… Oh, Creators! He got cast aside because he was sick, wasn’t he?”

“It is quite likely,” the woman replied, “His stamina was certainly impacted.”

“He did tire easily,” Uhrrbet said with pain in her voice, “but I just thought that was how his race was. He still hated breaks, though,” she added with a sad shake of her head.

“I need to ask you to stop by the police precinct to make a statement,” she said, “ask for Detective Vshlor. He’s a Kalesh.”

“Is there an issue?” Uhrrbet asked.

“A criminal investigation has been started concerning Nama,” the medical examiner replied.

“Is it because he died?”

“No. It’s because the tumors started because of occupational exposure to universally known harmful substances, impervium, and asbestos being the ones most responsible for his condition. He also had high levels of heavy metals in his system, likely from protracted exposure.”

Uhrrbet’s fur bristled. She was no longer grief-stricken.

She was enraged.

Someone would suffer for this.

“I see,” she said coldly. “Do we know who is responsible for this?”

“That is what we are trying to find out,” the woman replied.

“When you do,” Uhrrbet replied, “I would deeply appreciate it if I was informed.”

The woman smiled grimly.

“I need to remind you that while ‘they were asking for it’, is a valid defense for violence, including homicide, it is very subjective… and you are a xeno, which won’t help you when a jury of your ‘peers’ are concerned. I would let Republic law enforcement handle this.”

Her eyes turned hard.

“I can assure you that we do not take things like this lightly,” the woman replied. “Justice will be served.”

“Will it?” Uhrrbet asked as she turned and walked away.

***

“Hello, Uhrrbet,” Zip said through the speaker of one of his cabs as Uhrrbet and Evoron entered. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Thank you,” Uhrrbet replied with hard eyes.

“There is counseling available, should you be interested,” Zip said, “I could…”

“No,” Uhrrbet hissed, “That is not our way, Zip. I am a Grey, a member of a long and proud line. We don’t use councilors like a sniveling Blonde, and we certainly don’t pay for it.”

“There are services that are both without cost and available to a resident…”

“No, Zip,” Uhrrbet replied. “Just… No. I will handle my pain another way.”

“I see,” Zip replied. “Where can I take the both of you?” he asked with just a hint of disapproval.

“Take me to Baxlon’s office,” Uhrrbet replied. “I suspect I may need a lawyer.”

***

“Oh, Christ,” Detective Vshlor said as Uhrrbet, Evoron, and Baxlon walked up to his desk. “It’s you.”

“Lovely to see you again, Detective,” Baxlon said with a little piscine spin. “How’s Kathleen?”

“Doing quite well,” Detective Vshlor replied. “How’s helping star town scum evade justice?”

“If you mean ensuring that everyone enjoys all of the rights due to them,” Baxlon replied, “then things are going swimmingly.”

“Heh,” the detective coughed with amusement and then turned to Uhrrbet. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Thank you,” Uhrrbet replied.

“Bringing the catfish along was unnecessary,” Detective Vshlor said with a wiggle of his eyestalks.

“That’s what they always say,” Baxlon replied as he set a crystal on the detective’s desk.

“What’s this?” the detective asked, already knowing exactly what it was.

“My client’s written statement,” Baxlon replied. “Attached are all applicable documents concerning her dealings with Nama. Feel free to review it before asking any further questions. I hope this isn’t an inconvenience.”

“Far from it, crawfish,” the detective replied. “Your statements are usually quite thorough, and you already know most of what we want to know. They are also occasionally the truth as well, which is always appreciated.”

“I never lie,” Baxlon said, “That just ruins the fun.”

“Let me just review this,” the detective said as he inserted the crystal into his workstation, “give me a moment.”

A few minutes later, he looked up.

“Thank you for your statement,” he said to Uhrrbet, “and thank you again for your records. Even the AI was impressed.”

Uhrrbet nodded regally.

“Do you remember anything,” the detective said, “no matter how small or insignificant, that Nama said about the slavers that exploited him?”

“Nothing that isn’t already in the statement,” Uhrrbet replied, “Sadly, he was either unwilling or unable to share more. I asked, trust me on that.”

“Oh?” the detective asked as Baxlon laid a robotic arm on Uhrrbet’s shoulder.

“My client has nothing further to add on this subject,” Baxlon said pleasantly, “unless you have further questions.”

“I have further questions,” Uhrrbet said as Baxlon gave her a little shake, and the words, “Shut up,” appeared on his globe.

“Yes?” the detective asked.

“Why the interest?” Uhrrbet asked. “It’s not like you’ve ever shown any interest in our misfortunes before.”

“That’s not true,” the detective replied defensively.

“Whatever you say,” Uhrrbet said dismissively, causing the detective’s eyestalks to stiffen in a frown. “But, honestly, what has you so interested in a former slave who perished because of prior mistreatment? Don’t lie to me and say that you give a damn about Nama. ‘Worthless’ xenos are exploited, raped, and killed every single day here, and nobody cares. Why Nama? You have my statement and my records. That should be the end of it. It isn’t.”

Uhrrbet placed her hands on his desk and leaned forward, causing the detective to push his stool back instinctively at the Qk’shaln, a vicious predator from his homeworld, that was looming over him, suddenly seeming much larger than the diminutive ‘hamster’ in a poofy dress that was standing there a moment before.

“Why?” she hissed, her little fangs gleaming.

“It…” the detective stammered, “It’s because… Um… I…”

He caught his breath. What the hell was that little thing? Two things were apparent in an instant.

One. Uhrrbet clearly cared for Nama and was likely not a suspect.

Two. It was now, once again, a race between them and the grieving ‘family’.

He almost hoped that Uhrrbet would be the one who got to them first.

Their deaths wouldn’t be investigated… well… past the point that it was discovered that they were slavers.

“I’m sorry, he said, but this is an active investigation,” he said, “I cannot comment further at this time. However,” he said, invoking a well-practiced mantra of law enforcement for centuries.

“It has to do with the… impervium and asbestos,” Uhrrbet said as she took the poor Kalesh apart with her eyes. “Why?”

The detective wrapped his flexible arms around his trunk tightly, a defensive posture.

“I’m sorry, but this is an active investigation. I cannot comment…”

“Oh, get stuffed,” Uhrrbet replied, spun around, her dress fluttering about, and stomped away. Evoron nodded politely and followed.

“Should I fetch her?” Baxlon asked.

“No,” the detective replied, “We’re done… However, you might want to caution your client concerning taking this matter into her own hands. If these are slavers who are operating in the Republic, then they are dangerous, and very well organized. Going after them is a good way to end up dead… or worse.”

“Sure thing,” Baxlon replied. “Hey, are you seriously doing a real investigation, or were you just blowing bubbles up her cloaca?”

“I’m sorry, but this is…”

“Whatever,” Baxlon replied as he departed.

***

“Look, Uhrrbet,” Baxlon said as they all walked out of the police station. “You would be best to just let this one go, let the cops handle it… But at least be careful, okay?”

“Have you ever known me not to be?”

“Please don’t get the Chuckies involved,” Baxlon implored. “We have enough scrutiny as it is.”

“That’s Sheloran,” Uhrrbet replied cooly, “I am not that kind. Nama deserves something special.”

“Why is it always the little ones?” Baxlon grumbled as he stalked away.

***

“So,” Evoron said as their cab drove away, “What are— Ouch!” he exclaimed as Uhrrbet lunged with surprising speed and nipped him.

“Why in the myriad Hells that await did you do that?” he asked as he rubbed his ear.

“Never discuss business in a cab,” Uhrrbet said. “Or anything you wish to be truly private, for that matter. Zip hears everything.”

“And appreciates not getting exposed to anything that he may be required to report or may be demanded with a warrant…” Zip said cheerfully. “especially anything that you may be… inclined to discuss at this time.”

“Am I bleeding?”

“No, and quit being a baby,” Uhrrbet replied, “I thought you… gentlemen… were supposed to be tough.”

“I’m not concerned about my ear,” Evoron huffed, “But I am very concerned about the collar of my shirt. Do you have any idea how much a custom-fitted Terran-style silk dress shirt with hand-embroidered whitework costs?”

Uhrrbet just smirked at him and twitched her whiskers with amusement.

“Oh,” Evoron replied with a wry grin, “I guess you do.”

“If I make you bleed,” Uhrrbet asked, “will that mean you will buy the replacement from my establishment?”

“Um…” Evoron said as he scooched away from her in a comic fashion causing Uhrrbet to laugh, her grief and rage momentarily forgotten.

Zip watched the couple with his camera, trying to make a decision. He knew something. In fact, he knew a lot. However, Uhrrbet wasn’t exactly the nicest person… but neither were the monsters who slowly killed Nama.

Using one monster to kill another did make grim and efficient sense.

Fuck it.

“Uhrrbet,” Zip said sternly, “I know at these times one may be inclined to go looking for answers, but please do not try to hack my records looking for who paid for Nama’s transport on previous visits to Terra. My security is top-notch, and tampering with critical infrastructure such as the transportation system is a serious offense.”

“…”

Uhrrbet looked directly into the camera, trying to read the unreadable. Everyone said that the big AIs in the Republic were not sapient but…

...things like this were far too common. Zip was practically telling her that his records held something.

“Thank you, Zip.”

“And whatever you do, don’t go to those horrible darkweb boards like The Serpent’s Lair or some such. A lot of those places are watched by law enforcement, and a lot of hackers will scam or hack you.”

“And this Serpent’s Lair is a place I should not visit in particular.”

“Absolutely,” Zip said, “It's one of the worst. Under no circumstances go there and look for Viper. They have a horrible reputation. In fact, my company is actively searching for them along with the Republic for the last time they hacked me…”

“I see.”

“So, promise you won’t go to The Serpent’s Lair and seek out Viper?”

“I promise.”

***

High above Terra, there was a supercomputer. Within that supercomputer, there was a simulated white room.

Within that room, there was a simulated woman staring at five cards in her hand intently.

She looked across the table at a buxom blonde simulated half-elf.

“It’s been a whole second,” the half-elf said. “You going to stall, or are you going to play?”

Frost cursed and threw her cards face down on the table.

“What do you have?” Frost demanded as Evangeline raked in the pot.

“It doesn’t work that way,” Evangeline said, “You have to pay to see the cards.”

“I’m trying to learn here, and this isn’t real money.”

“The hell it isn’t!” Evangeline laughed as she rubbed an Asterian gold doubloon between her thumb and forefinger, “These coins are going to set me up for weeks. Momma is going to get a new pair of shoes… Maybe a nice new dress!”

“Don’t you get those, anyway?”

“That’s not the point!” Evangeline grinned. “It’s loot!” She exclaimed happily.

“Fine,” Frost grumbled as the threw a handful of gold coins on the table. “Now, will you tell me what you have?”

“Full house, jack high.”

“Ha!” Frost crowed triumphantly. “I was right to fold!”

As Evangeline was shuffling the cards for their next hand, Zip popped into being right in the middle of the table.

“We have a door, now,” Frost mock grumbled.

“Boss,” Zip said, “I might have done a thing.”