Keltan's Gambit: Chronicles of the Orion Spur Book 2

by Michael Formichelli

  The additional four staffers looked young to her eyes. Their head-crests varied in size and shape, one more sierra-like than another, though none were as unique as Haem Ila’Anaeriae’s. All together they looked capable, but as she looked them over, she couldn’t help but feel that it was something of a mistake to have such a homogeneous group for a job that required such diverse talents. Baron Revenant’s plan called for contact with all the species of the Confederation, what would it say to them to have such a mono-cultural office?

  “Haem Kul’tearae, does Elthroa have staffers appropriate to the work I need done who aren’t Isinari?”

  Niu looked surprised by the question, but recovered quickly. “An interesting thought.”

  “I think a multi-species approach is required—no offense intended to any of you,” Cygni said.

  “As an Isinari company, we cannot provide much in this department.”

  “I understand, but do you have anyone?”

  Haem Kul’tearae walked around the desk and stared at its surface for several moments, no doubt, accessing files through the computer terminal within.

  “We have an Achinoi available I believe.”

  The Achinoi were a species hard under the thumb of the Cleebian Greater Prosperity Sphere, though they had an individual membership in the Confederation. Having one on her team might evoke sympathy from the other member species, but the Cleebians would view it as something distasteful. She shook her head. She was limited to hiring from Elthroa by Baron Revenant’s orders, but if they had someone from a species that might prove acceptable to all, a species with no official standing in the Confederation, it would be better.

  “Do you have any Savorchans?” she asked.

  Haem Kul’tearae barked out a laugh. The sound caused a stir of whispers among the staff in the room. It was quickly silenced with a harsh, red glare.

  “I am sorry, Haem Aragón, but I doubt you would find a Savorchan working for anyone but the Savorchans.”

  She felt herself blush.

  “I think I understand your intention, though.” Haem Kul’tearae returned her gaze to the desk.

  “If I might venture an opinion, Haem?” Haem Ila’Anaeriae said in a sheepish voice.

  Haem Kul’tearae glared at nium.

  Ila’Anaeriae cleared niur throat before speaking. “What about Sanul Mondu? He is a Volgoth. The Volgoth don’t have any official standing in the Confederation and are both innocuous to those that do, and ubiquitous throughout Confederate space.”

  “Thank you,” Haem Kul’tearae said with a glare.

  “That sounds good.” Cygni gave Haem Ila’Anaeriae a quick smile. Showing initiative under pressure seemed to be something they had in common and she could feel herself liking the Isinari already.

  “It would take some shuffling of staff around to make him available.” Haem Kul’tearae said.

  “I think it would be a perfect fit,” Cygni said, enjoying the administrator’s discomfort.

  “—but of course, Baron Revenant is worth it. Haem Mondu’s skill-set is closest to Haem Ka’drilae’s. Niu is relieved of this assignment.”

  One of the Isinari by Ila’Anaeriae inclined niur head and moved back among the others.

  “This is no fault of nius.” Cygni was aware that she may have just gotten the poor Isinari punished. She hoped not, though. It was hard to tell with Isinari.

  “Of course not,” Haem Kul’tearae muttered. “I will have Haem Mondu transferred to your office as soon as possible. Haem Ka’drilae can take his assignment. It may take some time to complete the transfer.”

  “Of course. As for the rest, when can I have them in my office?”

  “Tomorrow or the day after. It is your choice, Haem Aragón.”

  “Tomorrow will be good.” She gave Haem Kul’tearae her best smile. In return, niu transmitted the employment contract to her implant. Cygni signed it with her biometrics.

  “What time would you like them to arrive?” Haem Kul’tearae asked.

  She pursed her lips. She was not an early riser, and since Baron Revenant hadn’t set her hours, she figured she would take advantage of the situation.

  “Is it a problem if I set a noon to twenty shift?” she asked.

  “So late and so short?” Haem Kul’tearae coughed into niur hand.

  She blushed. “Eleven to, um—”

  “Ten to twenty-two hundred might be appropriate.”

  So long? Was her thought, but what she said was, “Sure.”

  “I will have them there by nine with the exception of Haem Mondu, who will follow as soon as I can have him available.”

  “Agreed.” Cygni suppressed a sigh. She wasn’t used to regular hours and wasn’t looking forward to the lost sleep.

  “A pleasure doing business with you.” Haem Kul’tearae moved to the front of the desk and held out niur long arms with elbows bent.

  She stepped in and caressed them, receiving a like-gesture in return that sealed the deal and sent a shiver down her back. When she stepped away, she ran her fingers over the hem of her jacket as if to smooth it out, making sure to wedge one of the spy-grains she hid there under her fingernail.

  “Thank you for everything,” she said, turning to face the gathered group of employees. She made sure to lean back against the edge of the desk and stuck the spy-grain beneath it with a swipe of her finger.

  Haem Kul’tearae cleared niur throat.

  “Oh, sorry. I guess I should be on my way.” She headed for the office door. “Have a good day, Haem Kul’tearae.”

  “Success be with you,” niu replied.

  “Oh.” She paused by the door. “I know I am speaking out of turn, but old habits and all.”

  Haem Kul’Tearae tilted niur head up.

  “I was wondering about something. I’ve always wanted to meet Baroness Sophiathena—I mean from before she was a baroness.”

  “I understood that,” Haem Kul’tearae responded.

  “Ah, good. I was wondering if you could maybe arrange a meeting? As a personal thank you from my employer—“

  “Your employer wants you to meet Baroness Sophiathena Cronus?” Haem Kul’Tearae’s tone was bracing.

  She took in a deep breath. “Well, perhaps not.”

  “Good day, Haem Aragón.”

  Worth a try, she thought to herself and left.

  Once out in the park Cygni accessed her implant and ran a diagnostic test on the spy-grain she planted in Haem Kul’tearae’s office. A pop-up window appeared in the right side of her vision and confirmed the return signal. She wished she could have planted more, but it wasn’t worth the risk. Haem Kul’tearae would have become suspicious if she walked around the office touching things. The holographic scan it returned would not be as detailed as a result, but at least she would have the audio. Thanks to its position it would also record the files Kul’tearae pulled up with the desk’s computer terminal. Cygni was hoping to learn a bit more about Elthroa’s connection to Baron Revenant and the events going on behind the scenes. For all she knew, Elthroa was involved with the VoQuana and Siren. It was a scary thought, but it might fit with the hypothesis that Baroness Sophiathena was working with her father. All she would have to do now was visit the park from time to time and download the grain data. Coming up with an excuse to do that might get difficult unless she could fabricate a meeting with the company to do in-person progress reports on the temps.

  Stupid idea, she scolded herself. No one did in-person meetings for something so trivial. Progress reports of that kind were always done by electronic file transfer.

  She sighed, walking among the bani trees on the stone paths of the park. Maybe she would just have to risk discovery by coming here on her own without a reason. If she got noticed, she could always claim it was because she enjoyed the bani trees so much. The only problem was that she wasn’t in the habit of doing so already. Right after hiring Elthroa staff, sudden trips to the premises would be a clear sign of something amiss. Maybe she could try to sneak aro
und the park at night, though the risk of discovery then would be tripled since she would have even less reason to be on the grounds after close of business.

  Frustrated, she stopped by one of the bani trees and leaned her back against its silver bark. She took several deep breaths, trying to let her subconscious do what her conscious mind could not. Up ahead of her a group of Isinari and a few Solans were gathering in a clearing near the street. She watched them sit cross-legged in concentric circles on the bright-green grass. Most of the Isinari were in Elthroa uniforms, but those weren’t the only corporate outfits she saw among the gathering crowd.

  She started walking over, but froze when she saw a figure head from the Elthroa building to the center of the circle. She recognized Haem Ila’Anaeriae by niur unique skull-crest. Niu started handing out fist-fulls of dirt upon arriving in the circle, placing them on the ground before each seated member. Once that task was completed, niu returned to the center of the gathering and knelt in the grass. Ila’Anaeriae held niur hands up to the sky and slowly lowered them to the ground where niu kissed the mound of earth. The rest of the group mimicked the movements. Then, in a clear, strong voice, Haem Ila’Anaeriae started to speak in Solan.

  “Goddess Kosfanter, these children of Isinar and Earth thank you for taking us into your embrace. We give you praise. We thank you for the air we breathe, the water we drink, and the food we eat.”

  The group repeated the last sentence in the same half-muttered tones Cygni had heard worshipers use in the Daewonist temple as a child.

  Ila’Anaeriae went on. “Goddess Kosfanter, we thank our grandfather sun for his light and warmth, and ask that you join us in his praise.”

  The group sat up on their knees with arms outstretched to the sky with their heads tilted up. After a moment they moved in unison, like a flock of birds, and kissed the earth mound before them.

  “Goddess watch over us, and we pray our needs be met with our hopes, and answered through your grace. We pray.”

  As the group grasped a handful of earth and pressed it to their foreheads, an idea formed in Cygni’s mind about how she might be able to engage in regular visits to the park without suspicion. It would take time, she would have to build up a firm relationship with her new temporary employee, but it seemed to her the perfect excuse just fell into her lap.

  She accessed the Cyberweb and searched for the terms Haem Ila’Anaeriae used. The result surprised her, since she’d been around this religion for years without ever going to a single ceremony. These were Gaian prayers, and although she had never actually heard her friend Boa use them before, she already knew a bunch of things about Gaians.

  Cygni turned around and headed out of the park. She hailing a cab from the street with her implant while the lunch-time ceremony continued behind her. It might not be so difficult to get herself into Ila’Anaeriae’s group after all.

  Chapter Eight

  Ikuzlu City, Kosfanter

  41:2:9 (J2400:3133)

  Cylus sat up and screamed until he noticed the gentle touch on his hand. He lay in his four-poster bed with the thick brown comforter bunched up around the base of his sweaty torso. As his breathing slowed his eyes were drawn to the picture of his family over the antique dresser beyond his feet. His father, Mylar Keltan, his step-mother, Star Cronus, and his dead siblings, Sando and Shelly, looked down at him with warm smiles. That was a good day. The breeze off Celtic Lake took just enough of the heat from the air to make it comfortable. The whole family was happy, as he remembered it, but the longer he stared at the holographic picture, the less their smiles seemed to reach above their noses. He felt their eyes like hard fingers pressing on his skin.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered and turned away.

  Pasqualina’s golden tresses lay in a tangled mess around her head. His eyes moved downward as the orbs of her substantive breasts shifted beneath her translucent brassiere when she rolled towards him. The sight of so much of her skin exposed to his eyes caused the breath to catch in his throat. He froze when he realized that he had no memory of what had happened after they finished the bottle of Cleebian spirits.

  “Are you all right?” She squeezed his hand.

  “I, ah—yes. I think so. Did—I mean—did we—”

  “No, we didn't.” She sounded a little disappointed, but it could have been his imagination. “I guess I must have passed out.” Withdrawing her hand she cast about over the side of the bed and fetched her wrinkled dress.

  The door to his bedroom swung open and Ben entered. Upon seeing him and his companion, the artificial bowed and backed out.

  “Wait, Ben—” He was interrupted by Pasqualina's laughter.

  “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It just tickled me.”

  “And now Ben thinks we did it.”

  “Is that such a terrible thing?” A mischievous smile played across her lips.

  He scowled and peeled the comforter off of his legs. The sight of his briefs sent waves of relief through him.

  Pasqualina slid out from the bed and stood up. He couldn't help himself, and stole a glance that confirmed her panties were the same material as her bra. He looked away while thinking about how nice the curves of her hips were, and snuck a second look when she pulled her dress on over her head, staring at the thick black ring piercing the twisted protrusion of her navel.

  “Ouch,” he whispered.

  “Enjoying the view?” She made a wicked face at him and finished dressing.

  “Sorry.” He blushed and threw himself off the opposite side.

  Her giggle erupted behind him.

  Cylus yanked open the double doors of the wardrobe beside the room's entrance and fetched a brown silk robe with furry white lapels from within. Shrugging into it, he bound the cord about his waist and pulled his beard and hair out from its neck. His mane fell nearly to his waist in a dark, coppery tangle.

  Ben, come up here, he messaged through his implant.

  “Want me to get your hair for you?” Pasqualina asked.

  “No.” He glanced behind him. She hadn't moved since putting on her wrinkled dress.

  “Suit yourself.”

  Ben returned to the room. “Yes, master?”

  “What do you want for breakfast?” Cylus asked her.

  “Anything,” she said.

  “Two soft boiled eggs, Solan-style; Anilonian toast, and some local fish; fried please.”

  “Very good, master.” Ben bowed.

  “That's a good idea,” Pasqualina said.

  “What?” Cylus turned towards her.

  “You've got a yacht on this planet, right?”

  “What?”

  “Let's go fishing, or boating, or something else, so long as it's on the water. I feel like a swim today,” she said.

  He blinked. He had a yacht on Kosfanter as most barons did. It was a forty meter-long vessel his father bought on a whim when Cylus was a teenager. At the time he felt it was the coolest thing he could imagine. Through high school it served its purpose as a status symbol among his friends, but he hadn't been to its berth since before the war.

  Pasqualina met his eye and tilted her head down towards him. “Well, Cylus?”

  “I guess we could,” he stuttered. Truthfully, he didn't want to, but couldn't think of a good argument against it.

  “I'll let the harbor master know you'll be coming. Will you two be dining on board?” Ben asked.

  “Sounds wonderful. Ben, thank you.” Her eyes gleamed.

  Cylus groaned.

  “Oh come on, Cy. It'll be fun. We could use a change of scenery.”

  “We just had one, remember?” He shuddered at the thought of the Queen Gaia. He couldn't think about it without remembering the disorienting shift when the ship teleported from the Cephalon Sphere to Kosfanter’s orbit. Blue sparks spun in his mind’s eye, and his stomach clenched.

  “This'll be one we want to have,” she said.

  He opened his mouth, but closed it just as fast. “All right.”

  “Ve
ry good, Master,” Ben said.

  Pasqualina clapped her hands and bounced on her feet.

  The “Keltan's Gambit” sliced through the waves like a forty-meter long knife with the Gothic arch of its prow. Standing beside the primary barbecue pit in the forward section of the main deck, Cylus watched the gossamer-purple shimmer of the ship's aegis field keeping anesthetizing atmosphere of Kosfanter separated from the breathable air supplied by the ship's life-support system. Nearby, Pasqualina leaned back with her legs in the concave hemisphere of the deck's wide pool. Her wavy French braid rested on the nape of her neck above a loose fitting white tunic, the hem of which revealed glimpses of a dark brown bikini bottom every time she shifted her weight.

  They left the bustle of the Confederation's most important city hours over the horizon behind them, and the further away they got the more Cylus felt something uncoil within himself. The breakfast Ben cooked in the ship's galley that morning helped the effect along, and he felt more relaxed now than he had since the last time he was on Anilon.

  “I have to admit, you were right about this,” he shouted. The ship's engine was completely silent, kept in a vacuum beneath specialized aegis fields, but because of the vessel's anti-friction hull and high speed, the sound of the waves crashing against the ship's prow made talking at a normal volume barely audible.

  Pasqualina held her hand to her ear and waved him over.

  “Thank you for suggesting this,” he said when he arrived at the pool's edge.

  She looked up at him with her eyes polarized jet-black against the glare of sunlight. “Oh my! Don’t panic when you hear this, but you're smiling.”

  He blushed.

  “Sit.” She tapped the deck beside her hip.

  He took a deep breath and tried to suppress the effect her curves were having on him by reminding himself that she was a Mercantile Party spy. He was about to turn away when he realized that he was smiling and, at least for this trip, it didn't matter what she might be doing behind his back. He resolved not to let her impact the first relaxation he had in a year, as he kicked off his sandals, lifted his pistachio-green tunic above his waist, and sat down.