Five Days Dead by James Davis Page B

ponytail and her eyes were so brightly blue they whispered of the clearest of skies, the deepest of waters. Her body was lean and muscular and she carried herself with such calm confidence that few ever dared stand in her way. Those who did usually came to regret their decision. She looked like she was in her thirties but with medprint it was hard to gauge a person’s age anymore. Like all Federation Marshals, she wore a simple earth-toned shirt and pants that followed every curve of her body and a sidearm was strapped to her slim waist and slung low.  Pinned above the soft curve of her left breast was the star of the Federation Marshals. Behind her right ear, a scye softly hummed and unlike most scyes, which glowed yellow, blue or green, hers glowed an angry red like some great malevolent eye. Harley thought she programmed it that color for effect and he was right. It was a sign of a Marshal.
    They had met a number of times in the Wilderness and had developed an appreciation for each other’s talents. Harley had never visited her in the Hub and hadn’t been sure she would see him. He was pleased that she had so quickly granted him an audience.
    Her door opened to him just after 7 a.m. She left him standing in the middle of the room for a time as she paced with her hands on her hips, her eyes distant as she took care of some such matter on the Link. Harley waited and enjoyed the view.
    Her office was at the top floor of the Justice Tower, which held not only the offices of the Marshal’s Service, but also the Hub Legion Commander. It was perhaps a little flagrant display of power that the Marshal’s star was above the Legion crest on the side of the building. Marshal Tempest’s office was also two stories above the offices of the legion. Marshals knew how to make a statement.
    When she finished on the Link, she turned around and smiled at him softly, folding her arms across her chest. “Harley Nearwater. It’s been some time.” She quickly let her eyes roam over his wiry frame. “You clean up nice. I like that silly hat of yours. You’re still ugly as hell though.”
    Harley nodded. “I would say the same.”
    Jodi grinned. “But you would be lying.”
    “Yes.”
    “How are things in the Wilderness?”
    “More difficult than they need to be.”
    “Why is that?”
    "Technology is a pain in my ass.”
    “It's hard to be a thief if your Link is always telling everyone what you've stolen, isn't it?"
    "Even without it you can't just sneak away with someone's jewelry because it will send out an alert if stolen. Technology has made it difficult for a dishonest man to make a living."
    "Easier to be a law abiding citizen, isn't it?"
    Harley smiled. "Not sure I’d go that far."
    "The Federation is considering making it mandatory for everyone to have a linktag to receive their RTI funds each week."
    "That would severely impact my consumption of alcohol."
    "And what a shame that would be."
    "Keep going like this and there won't be a place in this world for a criminal and if there're no criminals, why would we need Marshals?"
    "Don't despair. There's always rape and murder. What brings you out of the Wilderness?"
    “Questions.”
    “Questions? You know Harley,” she slinked toward him and he remembered the cats stalking him. “We have this marvelous thing called the Link. You could have asked your questions with a simple thought.”
    Harley nodded. “Could have. Chose not to.”
    “You are a relic aren’t you Harley?” He shrugged, and when she motioned for him to sit on a leather couch in the corner, he did so. She sat in a chair across from him. “Ask your questions. I may have some of my own.”
    Harley leaned forward, clasped his weathered hands together. He would have to tread carefully. Or not. “Is the Legion by chance missing one of its legionnaires?”
    Jodi smiled, and her smile revealed nothing. “I am the Utah Hub Marshal. If you have a question about the Legion, you should ask the