“What’s your real name?” Runstom said. X frowned at him. The bunching lines of his forehead were made more prominent by his bright-red, bald head. “Come on, X. You’re going to kill me anyway. You’ve got me cuffed and under a gun. You gonna hide under some stupid pseudonym your whole life?”

“It’s Mark Xavier,” Jenna Zarconi said.

The room got quiet as everyone seemed to look at X for a reaction. He was staring past those kneeling on the floor, looking at the vid-screen.

“Get another QuikStik, so we can close this wound,” came Runstom’s voice thinly through the tiny speaker. He was kneeling in a pool of maroon, cradling the head of a bloody, red-skinned man. “And we need some syn-plasma. He’s lost a lot of blood. Hey buddy – talk to me. Where are you from?”

“X,” was Jorg Phonson’s response. It was drawn out and haggard. “X.” At the time, Runstom thought the man was just making dying noises. Now he could hear the letter X clearly.

“Come on, buddy,” the on-screen Runstom said, lightly brushing the face of Jorg Phonson. “Stay with me.”

“Phonson,” X said loudly, bringing everyone’s attention back out of the vid. He looked at Jenna Zarconi. “It’s Mark Xavier Phonson, you dumb bitch. Brother to Jorg Phonson.” He approached the woman, bending down to glare at her. “The man you murdered. You murdered my brother, you goddamn psycho.”

The green-skinned woman looked genuinely stunned. “W-what?”

“Yeah, I know.” X stood up straight again and walked past them, approaching the vid-screen. He stared at the device with a frown. “How do I turn this thing off?”

“Oh,” Jax said loudly, cutting off Jenna Zarconi before she could say anything. “Just hit that red button there on the front. Yes, that’s it – the round one.”

X crouched down and hit the button. The screen blinked, then reflected the scene in the room, causing him to stand up and take a step back to get a look at it.

“Now just hit that large, flat, gray button on the very top of the screen,” Jax said in a calming tech-support voice.

“You didn’t know he was my brother, Jenna. But you did this,” X continued, not willing to lose his momentum. “You killed him.” He pressed the gray button on the top of the device. The screen flickered and went black, and he turned back around to face her. “Didn’t you?”

Jenna Zarconi’s face turned into a scowl. “Yeah, well. We did it together, Mark. I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said at him, over her shoulder. Then she turned her head around forward and stared at nothing. “Even if you didn’t know you were helping.”

“Jenna, what the hell are you talking about?” Runstom demanded.

“You and your stupid operator,” she snarled, turning to face him. “Yes, I tracked you down. After I got a d-mail from that fat idiot Stallworth. He was supposed to be a buffer. All the connections ended with him. But I should have known anyone dumb enough to be in Mark’s pocket willingly was going to crack like an egg under pressure. He begged me – he thought I was Mark, of course – begged me to let him off the hook after getting a visit from a couple of thugs. One tall, white-skinned guy and one green-sleeves.”

“How did you find us?” Runstom’s voice sounded small and weak, even to himself.

“Oh, give me a break, Stanford,” Zarconi spat, her brow creasing. “There’s only one interstellar port here on Sirius-5, and it’s in Grovenham. And flights from Terroneous don’t come every day.” Still on her knees, she leaned closer to him. “You’re a fucking green-sleeves, just like me. I’m reminded every day of how much I stick out.”

“So you waited for me at the spaceport. Watched for a B-fourean and a space-born. Followed me for a bit until I went into that bar alone.” Runstom was trying to remain calm, but he felt the rage building inside him. He closed his eyes. He knew there was something off about that woman when she sidled up next to him and started buying drinks, but at the time he was too upset with Jax to think straight. His anger had clouded his judgment then, and he tried not to let it happen now. He swallowed and opened his eyes. “When we went into the other room to get the vid-player, we passed your bedroom. I saw suitcases on the bed. You were going to take off, weren’t you? When you found out we were on your trail, you were going to—”

“Shut up!” she screamed suddenly, louder than Runstom had ever heard her. “Did you get a nice taste of justice yet, Officer Runstom?” Her green face glowed an almost yellow color, and her brown eyes were blazing and wet. “Because it’s going to be the last thing you ever taste!”

“Oh, come now, dear Jenna,” X said, still standing behind them. “Officer Runstom here was just trying to do his job.” He leaned forward, sticking his head between Runstom and the woman. “Weren’t you, Officer? Or should I say, ex-officer. Hey, how about that – you’ll be an X just like me!” He laughed at himself and straightened back up.

“Wait a second,” Jax said, who’d been quiet up to this point. “Um, Mr. X. Sorry to interrupt. I just want to see if I got this right.” He looked around at everyone to see if they were going to let him continue. They all looked back at him. “So you’re saying, Jenna here killed this guy Jorg? Who also happens to be your brother? And engineered the Life Support failure to cover up the murder? But why did everyone think that you did it, and not her?” His tone wasn’t accusing, but sounded like genuine curiosity. Runstom thought to himself that he would be lucky if X didn’t decide to gag him then and there.

“Excellent question, Mr. Jackson,” X said. “I figured you must be a smart one. Being that you’re still alive and not in jail and all that.” He looked at Zarconi and spread his hands out, palms up. “Lady Z – you want to take this one or shall I?”

Jenna Zarconi dipped her head for a moment, then raised it again, revealing a teary streak down one cheek. “They wouldn’t let me out. The bastards. They were always calling me for favors. Always threatening me. And they never gave me a fair cut. They never let me in on their take. It was XYZ! I was the Z!”

“XYZ,” Mark Xavier Phonson scoffed. “Gimme a break with that shit. It was never XYZ. You were just the dumb broad who wanted to turn a partnership into a love triangle.” He came around the front of the three kneeling captives. “If anything, it was XY. The men doing the real work. You, the woman, just wanted to screw things up.”

“That is extremely sexist!” Jax remarked, sounding more fascinated than offended. A few sharp glances pointed his way and he swallowed. “Um, I mean. From a dome upbringing. I mean, you know – I don’t know the whole story or anything, so I don’t want to jump to conclusions.” He swallowed again and looked away, narrowing his eyes, as if his attention were suddenly grabbed by that remarkable painting on that wall over there.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jenna Zarconi said. “The men. Guess I showed the fucking men something. I showed them what a woman can do. You and your men – you’re all so stupid.” She sneered at him, creases forming on her green face. “Do you know how easy it was to send a d-mail to one of your hitmen? To pretend to be you, telling him Jorg was threatening to go to the cops? Telling him that Jorg was threatening to bring you down and he had to be taken out?” She laughed, an unamused, unnerving sound. “The jerk was so excited to make with the violence, he didn’t bother to verify the target.”

X looked down, and a real expression of sadness seemed to cross his face. “Ah, but your hitman made sure to let you know it was done,” she said, reading him. “Didn’t he? After it was too late? Dropped you a note to say, ‘Jorg is dead, just like you wanted’?”

“Yeah, Jenna,” X said somberly. “You know what? You’re right,” he added, a tad more lightheartedly. “You showed me something. I underestimated you. That’s my sin. I underestimated you and now I lost two good people. Maybe it should have been XYZ. But now, it’s just X.”