by Scott Baron
The youth thought about it a long moment. “I guess,” he finally said. “It’s better than Happy, at least.”
Laskar beamed wide. “I totally agree. And Hap’s a cool nickname. Makes you sound badass.”
Henni raised a brow but kept her mouth shut. Whatever it took to calm this little terror was fine with her.
“So, Hap is recovered, and that means Jinnik will be free to do to his kidnappers whatever he sees fit,” Bud mused. “Oh man, once we get his kid back to him, I would hate to be one of the people who did this. That guy’s got power to spare, and I have a feeling someone is going to be very unhappily on the receiving end of it.”
“Demelza, would you and Henni please show our guest to the galley and provide him with whatever he wishes to eat?” Hozark asked. “It has been a difficult time for him, and I’m sure he must be hungry.”
Demelza caught his drift.
“Come along, Hap. Let us get you something to eat, shall we? And then I shall show you to your quarters and provide you some fresh attire, if we have any that will fit you.”
She and Henni rose and began walking, as if expecting the youngster to follow and never even considering he might play stubborn and refuse. The ploy worked, and Hap found himself tagging along with the women as they headed toward the galley.
“Now that we are alone, let us revel in a moment of quiet,” Hozark said with a sigh of relief.
“Man, that kid’s a piece of work. You sure his dad really wants him back?” Bud joked.
“Indeed he does. And I have to say, your thoughts on what will befall those who took his boy are likely not far from the truth. Someone will be having a very, very bad day,” Hozark said.
“So, what now? I mean, I suppose we can just hang out in the luxury of a visla’s estate and eat all of his food while we wait for him to come back,” Bud said. “We can protect him from there if we bulk wards and defenses on key access points.”
“Yeah, that’s actually not a bad idea,” Laskar agreed. “If he comes back anytime soon, that is. But if he doesn’t, at least we’ll be living in style.”
Hozark pondered the idea. The Ghalian spy network would be hard at work pinpointing the boy’s father regardless. And if they were to stay with him at his home, not only would that put the boy at ease, it would also mean he had several bodyguards to help keep him safe.
It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was good enough. And for the moment, good enough would have to suffice.
“Very well, then,” Hozark said. “Set a jump course. We shall take the young Jinnik home.”
Chapter Forty-One
Uzabud took the cautious route to young Happizano’s homeworld, making sure to stop at nearby systems so Hozark and Demelza could do a bit of intelligence gathering before making their final return.
If they could suss out a bit more information prior to the visla’s return, then the joy of his son’s rescue would only be compounded by the knowledge of whom he could punish for his absence. But no one seemed to know a thing, or if they did, they were all being quite tight-lipped.
It was a somewhat frustrating process, and that, combined with Hap’s incessant whining, made their next decision easy.
“We may as well just take the brat home,” Bud said, finding refuge in the galley after the boy had yet another meltdown. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
Hozark sipped his cup of herbal tea as he commiserated with his friend. “He is a handful, I will agree.”
“Handful? Understatement of the century,” Bud replied with an exhausted sigh. “I mean, the kid is wearing me out with his incessant bitching. You’d think he would be grateful we saved his ass. But no, instead he’s not satisfied with his food, or his bunk isn’t soft enough, or why haven’t we taken him home yet? It’s maddening, Hozark. Seriously, half the time, I just want to space the kid.”
“But you are far too kind a soul to do that, aren’t you, Bud?” Hozark said with a wry grin. “But rest easy, my friend. Our next stop shall indeed be our passenger’s last stop. And once his father returns, we shall be on our way, the favor to Orkut repaid.”
“And our pockets significantly heavier with coin,” Bud added.
“Well, that too, of course,” Hozark agreed. “Has Laskar prepared the course for the final series of jumps?”
“Dialed in and ready to go. When you give the word, we take the kid home.”
“Then consider this the word. Let us offload our obnoxious cargo, shall we?”
“We’re getting rid of Henni too?” Bud joked.
“Very funny, Bud. Now, come. Let’s get the boy home.”
“Something feels off,” Demelza said, staring at the glowing orb that would so soon free them of their unwanted passenger. “You sense it, do you not?”
“Yes. Something does not seem right,” Hozark agreed. “I cannot pinpoint it, but there is definitely something. Bud, settle into a low orbit around the nearest moon, if you would be so kind.”
“The moon?”
“Yes. I am going to take my shimmer ship to the surface and reconnoiter a bit before we bring young Happizano home.”
“You think it’s another trap?” Laskar asked.
“I am not certain. But I do know that something about this feels off. And I have learned to trust that feeling when it arises.”
“Well, be quick about it. When the kid realizes how close to home we are, you know he’s going to become an even greater pain in the ass than he already is.”
“Of course. And I do pity you being stuck up here with him whilst I scout.”
“Just hurry back, okay?”
“I shall. Hopefully this is nothing, but it is always best to verify,” Hozark said as he walked to board his cloaked craft. “I will see you soon.”
Within three minutes he had detached from Bud’s mothership and was making a stealthy approach to the globe below.
As powerful as he was, if Visla Jinnik was home, he would be able to sense the invisible ship, if he wasn’t distracted. However, as he was offworld at the moment, Hozark felt confident he was arriving unseen.
Even so, he landed a fair distance from the visla’s estate tower. All the better to approach by foot and get a proper feel for the pulse of the city via its residents’ unguarded daily interactions.
Hozark had his shimmer cloak with him, but decided to don a disguise for this approach rather than expend magic on his shimmer.
In addition to saving power, the more traditional method would also allow him to remain visible, though disguised, which meant interactions with the locals. Interactions during which he could glean a great deal of interesting information.
Hozark casually strolled the streets, taking a circuitous route to the Jinnik estate and listening in to the chatter of the locals. There wasn’t an overt problem being openly discussed, but there seemed to be a tension in the air.
He felt the energy of the people around him, gently reaching out with his konus’s help.
Yes, there it was again. That unease. Something felt off here, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. As he approached the visla’s tower, however, the picture quickly became more clear.
The estate looked much as it had before, but now another of the floating gardens that had been under construction was magically suspended beside it, apparently completed since his and Demelza’s last visit.
But there was something more. Craft were parked in the landing area beside the tower, and shapes could be seen moving about the garden. It looked like there were a few men, up there, whom he could make out fairly clearly, even from a distance.
And from the look of them, they weren’t the visla’s people. These appeared to be Council goons. If that proved to be true, it could mean only one thing. They had occupied the place.
Hozark knew they needed far more information than that, now that the unexpected had reared its ugly head, so he drew close to the visla’s tower and waited. Soon enough, one of the property staff exited via the servi
ce entrance to run an errand.
Hozark followed the man, closing in as he took a turn conveniently near an alleyway. The poor man disappeared from the footpath with barely a squeak, his slumbering body carefully tucked into a dark nook within the alleyway, where he would not be found.
A minute later, Hozark emerged, with a new uniform, as well as a new face.
He made a point to linger for a little bit before heading back to the entrance. Any who had seen the man whose face he was now wearing leave would wonder why he had returned so soon otherwise.
When he did finally approach the estate, he gained access with ease, and without a single question being raised.
But once he was inside, his own questions would be myriad.
Chapter Forty-Two
Once inside the tower, Hozark changed his appearance to that of a generic face he kept in his toolkit of disguises.
He had no real knowledge of the man he’d just pretended to be, and it was often easier to gain access by bullshit and bluster than it was using an identity that might not have the clearances he needed.
And then there was the fact that the poor man, of whom he had only made the most preliminary copy for his infiltration, was known by those he would encounter on the way. That could get sketchy.
Moreover, if word that he and his team had recovered the boy had made it here, any Wampeh would be suspect.
His own pale complexion simply would not do.
So Hozark became a stern-faced, olive-skinned, ball-buster of a man. One who took his job seriously, and who made others uncomfortable by his professionalism.
He had found over the years that the strict adherence to rules tended to make this persona unpopular. It also made people want nothing to do with him, pushing him through checkpoints quickly to go finish whatever it was he was doing without much scrutiny at all.
Sticklers for rules wouldn’t break them, after all, and those actually enforcing them might get called out for not doing so properly. The nitpicker types were just the sort to actually know their job better than they did. The kind who took joy in correcting the slightest of mistakes.
It wouldn’t work everywhere, of course, but in a recently occupied estate, and one owned by a very, very powerful visla no less, a person of that sort would likely be given a wide berth.
And this visla was now working for the Council, or so it seemed. No one would know it was under duress, but that worked to his advantage. For all intents and purposes, this was still the visla’s home, and if he was under that man’s umbrella, the newcomers would treat him with a degree of deference.
Hozark grabbed one of the packages from the sorting table where deliveries were made. They had already been checked in and were now simply waiting for distribution within the estate.
Not much was arriving these days with the visla off world, but that would make any delivery for the visla even more pressing. That, in turn, would be a free pass to almost anywhere in the building.
Hozark pulled from his konus and layered what appeared to be a complex seal on the container, then walked straight out into the foyer of the ground floor.
When last he was in the building, his entrance had been made from high above, via the floating garden beside the structure. This, however, was a bit more complicated.
Multiple security personnel were patrolling the area. And they were definitely not the visla’s people.
They wore the uniforms of his staff, but Hozark could see the difference in posture and the look in their eyes as clearly as if they were wearing flashing signs that read, “Council Goon” on them.
It was not an overt occupation. That was not the point here. This was merely the Council making sure they had a handle on this place, keeping up appearances while ensuring the facility remained under their control. Just a subtle presence, though, and one most would not question.
“Where are you taking that?” one such Council guard asked as Hozark crossed the open space toward the lift discs.
“I am making a delivery for the visla,” he replied.
“Those get left down below at the receiving area. You don’t have clearance to go to the upper floors.”
Ah, he was that type. The kind who enjoyed flexing his middling power, Hozark mused. This would almost be fun.
“What’s your name?” Hozark demanded.
“What?”
“Your name. Give me your name.”
“Who the hell do you think you are to speak to me like that?”
“Your name. Are your ears plugged? I need to know who it was that diverted a direct delivery from Visla Agnatz to Visla Jinnik,” the assassin replied. “You can clearly see this is a specially sealed container, and you should also be well aware that this type of delivery is not only a priority-one in nature, but it also must remain in the proper chain of custody until such time as it is properly handed off at its final destination. Now, again. What is your name?”
The guard hesitated, and in that instant, Hozark knew he had him.
“Uh, I don’t know about all of that. But you’re not supposed to––”
“No. You are not supposed to. Not supposed to be accosting staff performing their duties. You’re one of the newcomers, I see. Tasked with the ground floor security detail, I imagine. And that group is focused at the entryway, as they are supposed to be. But you are all the way over here, overstepping and harassing the real staff, and if you think I’m going to be punished because you want to interrupt my work, then you’ve got another thing coming. Now. Your name.”
Hozark had long practiced the cold stare he now fixed on the man. It made all but the most hardened men squirm. And this was no seasoned soldier. He was just a security guard riding high on his modicum of power. And that balloon had just burst.
People were starting to look. Or so the cornered man believed. Any second now, this could turn humiliating.
“Uh, there’s no need for that. You just take that and deliver it where it’s supposed to go. And be snappy about it,” he said, a bit louder than necessary, to be certain those nearby heard.
He hadn’t been browbeaten by a delivery person. He was the one giving orders. And his order was to carry on and deliver that package.
It was almost funny how easy the man had been to manipulate. For now, with his rather vocal command to carry on, which everyone heard, Hozark had free rein on this level, all the way to the lift disc across the foyer.
The security detail there had just seen his interaction with their compatriot and stepped aside.
“Thank you,” Hozark said curtly, the words having none of the courtesy typically associated with them.
The disc took him up to the visla’s personal levels. The same level Hozark and Demelza had infiltrated. The one where they had met the visla and accepted his unusual job.
He stepped off the disc and made a straight line for the visla’s offices. There were regular staff on this floor, but none of the newcomers to be seen. It appeared the bulk of their presence was at the less important areas of the building, though Hozark was sure a few of them lurked around these levels as well. He had seen a few on the floating gardens, after all.
But here, he could relax his posturing. At least for the moment. With the visla’s actual staff, a kinder persona would elicit far more information.
“Hey, what’s going on with all the extra security downstairs?” Hozark asked a pale-green woman tending to the potted plants dotting the open living space.
She turned to find a warm, open face smiling at her. Fine tendrils wafted from her temples and jawline, pulling additional oxygen from the atmosphere. The perfect type to be caring for the vegetation, Hozark mused.
“What are you doing up here? This is a restricted access level,” she said.
“Oh, I know. I was told to bring this up here myself and not let it out of my sight until it had been delivered to the visla. Or, in this case, whoever would take charge of it until he gets back.”
“What is it?”
“No ide
a. It’s from Visla Agnatz and is for Visla Jinnik’s eyes only. See the sealing spell?”
“Of course.”
She had noted the magic as soon as she lay eyes on him. A very astute woman, Hozark noted, and a credit to the visla’s staff. But her suspicion could easily be overridden. With the added security at the lifts, there was no way he could have made it to this level without being authorized.
Or so she believed.
And that was the pervasive weakness in this particular security setup. Once you passed a certain point, all just assumed you belonged.
“Come on, I’ll show you where you can put that,” the woman said, leaving her task for the time being. “I’m Inari, by the way.”
“Gorlik,” Hozark replied. “Nice to meet you.”
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” she said.
“No, I was hired to work for the visla a few months ago, but this is the first time I’ve actually been able to visit his estate.”
“Ah, a system hopper,” she said, knowingly. “That’s gotta be a tough job. Always on the move, living on a ship.”
Her mouth said one thing, but her tone said another. She had likely never left this world. Not once in all of her years. And the thought of interstellar travel was quite alluring.
“It can be, sure,” he replied. “But I have to admit, there’s something wonderful about being able to see the galaxy like that. All of the systems and people. It’s actually pretty great, truth be told.”
“I can only imagine.”
“But I suppose it must be nice here. A quiet life without all of that craziness.”
“Didn’t you hear?”
“Hear what?”
“There was an attack.”
“Where?”
“Here. Some mercenary types raided the tower not long ago. Killed a lot of our people. They even made it to the visla’s personal chambers before they were stopped.”
“That’s terrible!” Hozark said in faux shock. “Did the visla smite them?”
