“Get Headcase examined when we get back and have Bacthar double up on his meds,” Reht said to Mom as he let Vaughn go. “And I want some digs on that chakking pedophile back there. If we can whip his assino, I’d be most pleased.”
Reht reached into his back pocket, withdrew a semi-smashed pack of cigarettes, and tapped out a smoke. It had been so long since he pulled a job—especially one with such high stakes—that adrenaline was already rushing through his veins.
As he signaled for a taxi, Reht slapped his Talian on the back. “You’re gonna have fun, I tell you,” he said, lighting his cigarette and taking a long drag. “This is going to be one hell of a ride.”
JETTA BURST ONTO THE observation deck to find her sister pressed up against the glass partition.
“Where is he?” she said, pulling her off the glass.
Jaeia’s eyes, red and swollen, reverted back to the scene below. “There,” she said, pointing to the medical and Defense/Research teams milling around the body of a young man with dark hair, an angular jaw line, and prominent cheekbones.
“Who is that?” Jetta asked.
“That’s the Grand Oblin,” Jaeia said, wiping the tears off her face. “And Jahx.”
Jetta imprinted off of her sister’s open mind, reliving what her sister had just experienced.
The Grand Oblin gave his body to Jahx—and our brother is somehow alive inside of him? It didn’t make sense; she didn’t want to believe it. It’s improbable—impossible—that the thing I want most might actually come true. Things like this don’t happen to me.
“I want to see him,” Jetta said, trying the keypad to the internal door, but the Defense/Research team locked from the other side.
“DeAnders said he’s unstable; they’re trying to save him right now. Please, Jetta—if it’s really him, let them do their work!”
Jetta slammed her fist against the keypad and pressed the intercom. “DeAnders, let me down there. I can do more than any of you.”
DeAnders looked up to the observation window, his glasses reflecting the overhead lights. “Let her down.”
Without waiting for the technician to get out of the way, Jetta tore down the stairwell, jumping down half the flight. She muscled her way through the medical staff until she stood at the head of the table, near the Grand Oblin’s left shoulder.
“Commander, we had to put him under. His metabolism is overtaxing his body,” Dr. Kaoto said. “Whatever you plan do to, do it with caution.”
Jetta took the young man’s hand in hers and tuned out the rest of the world.
(Who are you?) she demanded, searching the psionic world within. (If you dare pose as my brother, I will destroy you right now.)
In the distant realm of corporeality, he squeezed her hand. (You haven’t changed.)
Blue eyes emerged from the shadow, as well as the kind smile that instantly brought her to her knees.
(No—impossible!) she screamed. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, even as she slammed her fists into his chest. (You’re not real!)
The rest of her body gave out, and he eased her to the ground.
(You’re dead—I killed you,) she cried.
Stooping down to her level, he put his hands on her shoulders, a half-smile lighting his face. (You always underestimate me, Sis. That’s why I kick your butt at rock dice.)
His quirky sense of humor, his unique way of offsetting her emotions. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she backed up, away from him, too scared to believe.
(Prove it’s really you. Prove you’re not an imposter I have to kill.)
Sitting back on his heels, he twirled the hair at nape of his neck. (You’ve never beaten me in rock dice—well, not without cheating. You have the world’s stinkiest feet, even by Fiorahian standards. You love the smell of precoolant mix, and you’re afraid of hair clogs in the sink. I mean, really afraid,) he said, chuckling.
Jetta’s eyes grew wide. (I still can’t—)
He smiled sadly, looking away from her. (Jetta, I’m so sorry. I asked you to do something that was too much to ask of any person. I know it wasn’t easy to fight the thing that I had become, but you saved my life, as well as all those who were trapped with me. Now they are at peace, and I am here.)
(Jahx—) She tackled him to the ground, hugging him until he slapped her on the back to ease up.
Something inside her broke loose. She arched her head back and screamed. The moment she hadn’t dared dream about cleaved through her like electric fire, sending joy rippling throughout her body. His psionic harmonies layered against hers, rhythmic and synced, his words once again resounding in her head.
(I am so, so sorry Jahx,) she managed to say between sobs. She pulled away a little, searching his eyes for the answer she needed.
(Jetta,) he said, his face serious. (I don’t know how long this body will last. So with what time we have, I have to tell you what I learned on the Motti ships—it is the answer you’ll need.)
(No, Jahx,) she said, gripping his shoulders. (I won’t let you go ever again!)
(Jetta, you have to listen,) he said, voice and image growing distant.
Something—or someone—is pulling us apart, she realized, fighting to stay anchored to his mind as she crossed back over into the physical world.
“Let go!” she screamed, careening backwards. Her arms spun out of control as she landed on her back, a tray full of instruments toppling down on top of her.
“Commander!” DeAnders’ bespectacled face appeared above her, his grip like a vice on her upper arms. “We had to pull you out. Your interaction proved too much of a strain on his body.”
Jetta geared to retaliate when the whine of the vital signs machine sent the technicians scrambling for their devices.
“I—I’m sorry,” she said, discontinuing her fight. DeAnders backed off and helped her up. Legs feeling rubbery, she held onto the plasma filter until she righted herself.
“Jetta,” Jaeia whispered, coming up behind her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I can’t believe it.”
Jetta held onto her sister’s hands and squeezed. “I can’t either.”
They watched in silence as the teams stabilized their brother by inducing a coma, slowing the demands of his borrowed body. Jetta felt him on the edge of her awareness, his psionic tune quieted by chemistry but still tangible and familiar.
“This changes everything,” Jetta said, turning to her sister.
Jaeia’s gray eyes focused on something beyond Jetta’s figure, and she shifted her weight on her feet. What are you planning?
I don’t know yet, Jetta said.
The interface on Jetta’s uniform sleeve beeped. When she turned her arm over the Minister’s face appeared. “Report, Commander. DeAnders tells me that you made contact with the Grand Oblin, but that he’s somehow... your brother?”
Jetta looked to her sister, but Jaeia focused all her attention back on Jahx. How do I respond? I don’t even known if I can believe my own words. “Yes,” she said finally, her voice barely audible. “It’s true.”
The Minister acted as if he didn’t hear her. “Commander?”
“I don’t know how,” Jetta said. “I can’t explain it. But it’s him.”
The Minister stared at her a moment. “What’s his condition?”
Jetta looked at her brother, extending herself as far as she dared into his mind. “It’s hard to tell right now.”
“Be that as it may, I need you and your sister to convene with the other senior officers for an emergency meeting. There’s been a status change.”
Jetta stared blankly at the Minister. She was supposed to acknowledge him, but the words weren’t there. How can he ask that of us right now? she thought, anger brewing in her chest. We just got our brother back—
Jaeia grabbed Jetta’s arm so that her face was in the visual field, responding for them. “Yes, Sir; we’ll be right there.”
“Why did you do that?” Jetta asked after the Minister signed
off.
“You know why,” Jaeia whispered. Gray eyes locked with hers, and Jetta felt her sister’s warning. She didn’t have to say it. Jetta looked at her brother unconscious on the table and knew it wasn’t time yet.
REHT JAGGER COULDN’T believe it. The albino had written down the name Modoki, but after asking around, the dog-soldier captain discovered it was just another stupid pseudonym for his old source, Mantri Sebbs.
“Ridiculous,” Reht said, throwing the piece of paper over his shoulder. “He’s still a chakking junkie spinning info.”
Pushing past the streetwalker who had given him a tip, he threw her a bill which she dropped to her hands and knees to collect.
“Chakking cheapskate!” she screeched after him.
“Yeah, yeah.”
Reht hiked up his jacket and squared his head before heading down the steps of the Suba House. Returning would be dangerous, especially since he had just baited a girl there, but the streetwalker said that Sebbs was hiding out inside, so he needed to get in.
Wearing the new hat, jacket, gloves and holosim glasses he purchased in the back alley got him through the front doors easily enough, but no disguise, no matter how good, could get his massive Talian past the bouncers. Mom, with much protest, stayed behind with the rest of the crew, making sure they would be ready for dust-off when the captain returned.
“Of course,” Reht muttered, spotting Sebbs in the back of the booths with the company of a dancer. But the usual Sebbs—the twitchy one who was unable to function without getting high, wasn’t there.
“Surprised you’re here,” Sebbs said as Jagger sat down across from him. Mantri didn’t look directly at him. Instead, he sat back and enjoyed his lap dance, his hands running up and down the dancer’s legs. “Chubs out front is looking for you, has some Dogs on your tail.”
“That’s an extra fifty, poppy,” the dancer said, pushing out her lips when Sebbs tried to get under her skirt.
“Get the hell out of here,” Sebbs said, shoving her off. She began to protest, but he threw her a stack of fifties. “I don’t have time for an ugly face like yours.”
That isn’t Sebbs. Reht eyed him closely, trying to understand where this man had come from as the dancer flipped them off and took his money.
“What are you looking at?” Sebbs said. Normally he would have lit up by now, but he didn’t. Sebbs didn’t even look stoned.
“Where the chak did that half-baked Joliak go? Remember—the one with the shakes and the inability to get himself laid?” Reht laughed, removing his glasses and hat.
Sebbs’ eyes narrowed. “Where’d you just come from?”
“I just got a job,” Reht said, raising his voice to be heard over the sultry singer on the center stage. “Wanted to pay you a visit first.”
“No, before that. How’d you get away from the Alliance?”
Reht shrugged his shoulders. “Easy enough. Had some hot, gorsh-shit transport device and I bargained my way out. They kicked me to this end of the universe, but it squares with me.”
Snickering, Sebbs licked his lips. “Right, brother. Right. And how you feeling? Anything different? Still sleep at night? Still feel the same as you did when you first walked on their turf?”
Reht shifted uneasily. “What’s your point?”
Sebbs took out a pack of smokes and tossed them to Reht. The package was full, unopened. “These old flavors aren’t the same. My pleasures aren’t the same—I’m not the same. They did something to me.”
Reht gripped the gun strapped to his thigh and then relaxed. Everything that had ever come out of Sebbs had to be taken in stride. “Nah. I’m good. And I’m just about to make some real cash, get back in business.”
Sebbs chuckled, slouching into the booth and closing his eyes. “I can feel it. The thoughts I have—these urges. They’re not me. I don’t want to get high, I don’t like the same girls. My pleasure comes in deals, dangerous ones, ones that will get me killed. That’s my new delight.”
Reht thought of Triel, but he stopped himself. That baech left me. There’s no more to think about.
“Are you going to come on to me next or what, Sebbs?” Reht said, taking a cigarette from Sebbs’ pack.
Sebbs opened his eyes again as the music changed and a score of dancers dressed in red and white graced the stage. A predatory look lit Sebbs’ eyes, making Jagger strangely uncomfortable.
“I did some snooping back when I was cross-dealing to the USC and the Core. There was a program that the USC started, very hush-hush, as a means of silencing their enemies but using them in covert operations. Never did get more than that. But for you and me,” Sebbs said, pulling down the lower lid of his eye, “it might be worth investigating.”
Reht swallowed hard as Sebbs’ words drove into him like a kick to the chest. Leaning over into the next booth, the dog-soldier captain stole a shot of whiskey from the passed-out patron and downed it with urgency.
“Look man, just tell me about Diawn,” Reht said. “You seen her, heard about her—anything? I’ll cut you in a grand if you give me a decent lead.”
Sebbs nodded as if he’d solved a puzzle, but only offered the captain a grin.
“You’ve lost it, brother,” Reht said, standing up to leave.
Sebbs grabbed his wrist. “Check the landfills, near the waste refinery up north. She’s been known to do deals there.”
“What’s she dealing, man?”
A dark shadow fell over Sebbs’ face. “You’ll find out soon enough. It’ll blow your kádes off. She’s in the upper echelon now, playing with the big boys, so she isn’t going to waste her time with a ratchakker like you.”
Reht wrenched himself free and put his glasses back on. “You’re a sick chak, Sebbs.”
“Whatever they’re offering, brother—it isn’t worth it. The Alliance, they’re behind everything. They’re using you just like they’re using me,” Reht heard the Joliak call after him as he hurried toward the front entrance.
“Hey, you!” the barkeep shouted as Reht passed by.
Reht tried to walk faster, but the bouncers had already alerted to his presence.
“Chak,” Reht muttered, reaching for his gun. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the bouncer draw his weapon and jumped behind a table just before his enemy got off the first round off. Screams erupted, as did more gunfire. Patrons and dancers rushed every which way, some felled in the crossfire. Reht tried to fire back, but the multiple guns aimed to his position hopelessly pinned him in the corner.
Smoke curls rose from the holes in the table serving as his protection, obscuring his view. They’re closing in on me, he thought, seeing the bouncers advancing in on his position. I’m as good as dead—
Then the pummeling stopped. The gunfire redirected away from him and toward the back of the bar. Reht peeked around the table to see Sebbs firing at the bouncers and the barkeep.
Taking advantage of the shift, Reht shot at the lead bouncer and barkeep, killing them with hits to the head and chest. With splattering blasts to face, Sebbs took out the last two bouncers. Reht shot the remaining thug, armed only with a broken bottle, in the leg.
Reht approached the man he crippled, intending to pump him for information, but Sebbs leapt from the booth and drove a knife into the thug’s jugular. The Joliak twisted the knife as he withdrew, a perverse smile on his face.
Speechless, Reht backed away as Sebbs rose, blood dripping from his hands, dented grin still plastered to his face. Just like Vaughn, Reht thought, reminded of the grisly look in the ex-con’s eyes after he slaughtered the Toork.
“I’m not right, you know,” Sebbs said, dropping his weapon to the floor. He searched a few corpses, pocketing money and valuables. “This isn’t me.”
“Chak, Sebbs, I—”
The Joliak tossed Reht a platinum bracelet off a dancer. “Remember what I said. Don’t go after Diawn. It’s a setup. You’re working for them now, just like me.”
With that Sebbs disappeared, taking off
into the streets. Hovercars and lifts honked and screeched as they swerved to avoid hitting him.
Scratching his head with the butt of his gun, Reht looked at the mutilated thug on the ground. “Between you and me, partner, that’s some pretty messed up gorsh-shit.”
He tried to think of Triel, whether there was any connection, but he found he couldn’t. Maybe Sebbs ain’t that crazy...
But Sebbs was crazy, paranoid—he always had been. However, if his information about Diawn was correct, Reht was that much closer to being rich. He didn’t want to think—he couldn’t think—about giving any merit to Sebbs’ conspiracy theories.
(Triel—)
Then a bizarre revelation hit him. There was a benefit in losing interest in the Healer. It meant he was free again, that he didn’t have any attachments, any reasons not to answer to his lowest instincts. He could do his business like a real dog-soldier and make some real profits this time around. Forgetting Triel would be the best move of his life.
Reht picked up his step as the patrons slowly wandered back in, some screaming and fainting at the sight of the bloody crime scene. Time to go, he told himself merrily.
Fixing the collar to his jacket and securing his hat, he eased into the crowd on the street, heading towards his ship and his crew, imagining what he would do with his newfound riches.
Chapter VII
It wasn’t the first time had Jetta pulled out a clump of her own hair as she adjusted her hair tie, but it was more than had ever come out before.
“Jeez,” Jaeia whispered.
“I’ve seen you do it too,” Jetta said.
Jaeia kept her gaze ahead as the two of them walked down the hallway toward the conference room. “It’s just stress.”
“Whatever,” Jetta said, tossing the clump of hair onto the walkway. She spied a janitor’s closet and grabbed her sister, yanking her inside with her.
“Hey!” Jaeia shouted as Jetta closed the door.
Jetta couldn’t see her in the darkness, but she saw the light of her psionic aura. “Calm down, Jae. I just want you to remind me why we have to do this. I know Jahx is sick, but I know he’ll make it. He has to.”
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