Leroux splashed some water on Jeb Couch's face. Went and got himself another black eye. How Couch managed to offend a bot and get himself knocked out, Leroux might never know.

"Wake up, Couch." He slapped his face a few times until the man blinked.

He groaned, holding his face.

"Come on. On your feet now. Got a cell with your name on it."

Leroux dragged him over to the speeder, then drove him back to the office.

As he put Jeb behind bars and slammed 'em shut, the act he'd repeated so many times smothered him, like a boot pressed on his chest.

"This stupid town never changes."

Not a week ago and Leroux thought he was still on the up-n-up. Going places. Or at least, that he'd arrived. Now he realized he'd been fooling himself. Hoping for the best. Hope was a four letter swear word on Rubrum.

Crag strolled into the office, whistling.

"You find that bot?"

Crag looked confused. "The bot? Oh. Hehe. Not a sign of it anywhere. Knocked Jeb out cold and split. Musta realized it went against its programming. Might have even snuck off to some corner and rebooted itself. That's my guess."

Just as Leroux was about to rail into the deputy for not finding the bot, his comm pinged with a notification.

Incoming comm from Terra.

Identity unknown.

Terra? Who could be trying to contact him from Earth? Had his wife's ears burned as he thought of her? No, that was foolish. They'd been through for years.

"Hello?"

"Am I speaking with Sheriff Blaine Leroux?"

"Speaking."

"This is Doctor Payne. I am trying to reach a certain Tracy D. Irving. It's my understanding that you worked with this man in the past and that he is currently on Mars?"

Hundreds of questions sprang up in Leroux's mind. Like how did a doctor looking for Irving even know to contact Leroux at all?

"Yes. He and I are old friends. I spoke with him just recently."

"I'd say I'm glad to hear that, but unfortunately I'm the bearer of ill tidings. We need you to relay a message to Mr. Irving. Can you do that for me?"

A lump formed in Leroux's throat. "I'll try."

"Good. We're contacting you at the request of Tracy's wife, Hina Irving. I'm afraid things are not looking good for Mrs. Irving. She's been ushered into the hospital. She's had complications with childbirth in the past that ended poorly, and this time is no different, except that his wife has a heightened risk of not surviving this pregnancy. But I need Tracy to know that per his wife's request, if there's any way for him to contact her, those are her wishes at this time."

Leroux nodded, forgetting that the doctor could not see him.

"Are you still there?"

"Uh, yes. I'll make sure to relay the message to him. Doctor, I know Tracy will ask. What's so risky that you'd go to the trouble of tracking me down?"

The doctor sighed. "Cardiomyopathy. It's a condition where the heart is, for lack of a better term, too stiff." Here he lowered his voice. "It adds stress to the heart which can cause pre-labor or post-labor maternal death to occur. In a circumstance like this, I'd urge Mister Irving to forget what he is doing and leave Mars immediately."

The comm ended.

Leroux stared at the piece of tech that allowed others to reach across space and time and make contact with him all the way from Earth.

"Who was that, Sheriff?"

Leroux ignored Crag, lost in thought.

They must have done some serious digging to find out who on all of Rubrum might know Tracy, who could then also find him and relay the message. Tracy was in upper law enforcement, working directly for the Attorney General, so it wasn't impossible. Why him though?

Easy. On tablet, they'd worked together for years, had a good working relationship. No one knew of the disagreement that took place here on Rubrum. Why some might think they were still friends. But things had changed.

No, Leroux realized, he had changed. Tracy was still the same lawman, sporting a new badge and a lot more authority, sure, but the same standup guy, through and through.

But, poor woman. Tracy's wife must be desperate, afraid, hopeless if she requested for that message to get to her husband by any means. She must think she wasn't making it out of this one.

Tracy. Poor sap. He had no clue he might be losing his wife and unborn child while he roamed across a hostile planet, prodding the yellowjacket nest, stirring up trouble for himself everywhere he turned.

How was he going to find Tracy? Forget finding him. How would he relay that type of message? How was he supposed to tell a former friend—who he'd sent his deputies to stop—that his wife was in critical condition and he better contact her ASAP.

Leroux leered at the train outside, a few hundred steps away, and started moving towards it.

"Sheriff?"

"Heading back to Noke'la."

"Didn't you just get back the other day?"

"Going on vacation, Crag. You're acting sheriff until I get back."

"But I—"

The door shut behind him and Leroux jogged over to the bullet train, stopping in front of it, hesitating.

Despite the thin layer of dust that covered the exterior shell and the dark of night coming on quickly in the dusk, Leroux's reflection on the train still stared back at him. The sensible thing to do was forget he got the message, get home to his warm shower and bourbon, and let things unfold as they may. Tracy being able to contact his wife in time was a pipe-dream. Even as he thought it, his reflection scowled at him. How could he even think that? What kind of man had Rubrum turned him into? Why, just several years prior, Leroux would have considered Tracy a good friend. If he hadn't made the jump to Rubrum already, Tracy and Hina might have even invited him to their wedding.

The comm he heard was the echo of a plea, the desperate cry for help from a woman who just wanted her other half at her side during her final moments, and if not that, to at least be able to hear his voice, and maybe see him on video comm. And what of Tracy? He'd want to know. No one wanted to leave home and return only to find it empty, their loved ones gone for good.

Bodies surged on and off the train, trading spaces.

The mechanical voice of a bot conductor called out like a megaphone. "All aboard."

The doors started closing.

"I gotta tell him," Leroux growled.

He ran and lunged through the closing doors, just making it. The train waited a few more moments for everyone to be seated, then shot off like a rocket.

His mind spun like a dryer, tumbling the news over and over.

He'd made the right decision. Now he just had to locate Tracy. Shouldn't be too hard. The man caused an uproar everywhere his boots tread.

But was he ready to get tangled up with Tracy? He didn't know. Right then, he was just the messenger. He'd deal with the mess when he crossed that bridge.