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Chapter 9: To every soldier a worthy cause.

'So you killed her?'

Vance's quiet voice falls dangerously low. 

Abby doesn't react. She continues to stare into her Grandfathers eyes, arms folded and head held high. High above us, a fan wafts lazily on the wood panelled ceiling. A bead of sweat chases the contours of my furrowed brow as I lean against a polished pillar at the back of the room. 

Vance turns away. 'Leave us.'

I don't need telling twice. I stand and open the door.

'Not you.' Vance turns to stare at me, then flicks his eyes to Abby. Abby snorts once, then turns and stalks from the room without another word. Vance's office door bangs closed behind her. 

Vance sighs mightily. As the breath leaves his body, his strength seems to follow it. His shoulders sag, his back bends, all at once, he's suddenly an old man. 'Torture, murder... You know she once collected bird feathers?' Vance sighs again. 'Do you think there's anything left of my little granddaughter left in there at all?'

I take a breath... then release it without saying anything. I cross the rooms tiled floor. 'She's in there... But so's the soldier. You won't keep her here for much longer.'

Anger flares in the old man's eyes. 'They really did a number on her, didn't they? Fucking red bastards! And now they're on my station, eating my food and breathing my air!'

'She was always a soldier Vance, even before the Martians put a gun in her hand and boots on her feet.' I crossed over to the drinks cabinet. 'May I?'

Vance nods curtly. 

'She's been picking fights she can't win since we were 8. Only difference is then it was bullies...' I continue, sipping thoughtfully from a cut crystal glass I'd just filled with hilariously expensive whiskey. 'She fought rebels for the Martians, she fights petty criminals for you. ' I shrug. 'Racists... she fights them for her.'

Vance snorts. 'Ridiculous. I told her when she was little, I tell her now. People deceive each other, people hurt each other, people kill each other... But only a fool does any of those for anything but cold, hard currency.'

'Money's not enough Vance.' I shrug. 'She needs a cause.'

Vance glares at me, then stomps about. 'Then you find her one. She keeps going down this path she's walking, half the station will be out for her blood. I need the murder found, I need the disruption to our operation dealt with! Not a bunch of racist morons massacred, you understand? The last thing we need while the tin heads are here is a bloodbath.'

I nod. 'The Martians are just stopping over, they'll be gone by the end of the day.'

'Good. Once they've left the system, you get Abby off this rock, you understand? Find a mission, any mission, and keep her out in the black until her head's back on straight.' The old man turns away and stares out of the stained glass window at the end of the room. 

I finish the drink in my hand, put the glass on the side and head for the door. 'Brakeman.' The use of my surname stops me in my tracks. I turn to lock eyes with Vance. 'Find the murderer, the real murderer. Kill them.' Vance narrows his eyes. 'Quietly.'

I nod once, then walk from the room, closing the door behind me.