The Colossus Collection : A Space Opera Adventure (Books 1-7 + Bonus Material)

by Nicole Grotepas

  “Lunch,” Meg shouted as they pushed through the crowds to reach her apartment. Soon, the Constie food vendors would take over the streets. And then later, the Yasaon and Centaus, because the Centaus had decided it was the best way to organize the plazas and the crowds. It kept things cleaner. Ensured that there was a method to the madness. But many of the races appreciated food fusions or eating the cuisine from nonnative worlds. Holly loved tacos done up with seared vegetables from Yaso, the Druiviin homeworld. There were drinks that Holly also loved from Yaso, like the hot brewed drink kasè, a white beverage that could be sweetened or enjoyed slightly bitter.

  They rode the elevator up to the 117th floor, and went into Meg’s four bedroom place. “Did this get bigger while I was gone?” Holly asked, falling backwards onto the couch. She dropped her bag on the floor and sighed. It was luxurious after having just a hard futon for a couch and a bed for the past eighteen months.

  “Magically, no. It’s all in your head,” Meg said, with a wry grin. “Lucy’s still at school. I’ve got to go back to the precinct. You can get settled for now.”

  “I’ve been starving for decent food—forcing myself up here was all I could do to not buy one of everything from all those food carts on the street.”

  Meg frowned. “Really? At least let me take you to a restaurant.”

  “Anything in your fridge would probably be better than everything I was given in prison. I don’t need to go out. Because this is nice too, this feeling like I’m home.”

  “This is your home. My home is your home. Anyway, I got you a new communicator. Thought that maybe you’d want to leave the past, in the past.”

  Meg didn’t say what she meant, exactly. It seemed neither of them wanted to talk about the trial and what Holly had done. For Holly, it was more that she didn’t want to think about what had happened to her, the catalyst that she reacted to, that took her to a place in her life where she’d never thought she’d go. Meg pulled the oblong device out of the box on the counter and crossed the room to hand it to Holly. “It works already—got you service for it as well. And a couple other things—let me see,” she began ticking them off on her fingers. “You can stay in the spare room. I got a bed in there for you, plus some clothes. Lucy’s at school, I think I told you that. And I’ll go pick her up later because Gabe is on a new case.”

  Holly cocked her head to one side. “How long have you known that I was going to get out? The clothes, the communicator? You got all that stuff for me already?”

  Meg shrugged. “I’ve been hoping . . . for a while.”

  “And you just knew that I wouldn’t have my own place still? Or a job?”

  “In your line of work, I did kind of plan on that.” Meg’s communicator buzzed and she glanced at it. “Sorry, got to take this.” She lifted the communicator and began talking. Holly listened, casually, figuring it had to do with work.

  “Yeah, I told you I’d go question the girl. I really don’t think she did it, but that’s our best lead, Gabe.” Meg paused as though listening. “I’ll be back after that. We can talk about the other lead then.” Pause. “I’m not going to ask her. I don’t care if they specifically asked for her. God, she’s not even a detective.” Pause. “Yes, I picked her up. She’s here now. Listening to me.” Meg glanced across the room at Holly and smiled. “No, I really don’t think she’d be interested. Maybe Daxan can look into it. The kid needs to be pushed out of the nest. All he ever wants to do is paperwork.” The conversation tapered as Meg listened to whatever Gabe was saying, muttered some affirmative sounds, and then hung up.

  “God, I’m so glad we separated.” She tilted her head back and growled like a xoulant, a small, bear-like species the Centau brought to Kota. “He can be so . . . just, I don’t know. Infuriating. Can you believe I ever married him?”

  “Well, let’s just say that you picked better than I did. At least Gabe is kind.” Holly wondered if she’d ever be able to outrun her past. It felt like it was right there with her, constantly.

  “You’re right. He’s a good guy. Just bad for me as a husband.” Meg laughed and went to the fridge. She pulled out a bottle of beer, popped the lid off, took a long drink, then brought the bottle to Holly. “Don’t tell Gabe.”

  “I thought you were by the rules. So you’re still on duty?”

  “Technically, yes,” Meg laughed. “But it’s been a long day. And I only took one tiny sip.”

  “Seemed like more of a long draw to me, but whatever makes it easier to sleep at night,” Holly said. She squinted at the bottle. Was this real? She felt a bit like she was being offered the nectar of the gods. She hadn’t had a taste of beer in ages. Months. An entire (shortened) prison sentence. Holly took it and pressed the opening to her lips and took a long, slow drink.

  “Oh my god. Is this heaven?” Holly stared at the bottle. “Is this a new brand?”

  “Yeah. These guys cross-bred some hops from Axcia with old Earth hops grown here. That’s only a pale ale. Just wait till you have a sip of a their quadruple Kotan pale ale.”

  Holly shook her head. “It’s been too, too long.”

  “I bet. Anyway look, I’ve got to go question a suspect, then head back to the precinct. Hate to leave you here alone, sis, just after getting you out of that hell-hole. We can catch up later, though. Work is calling me back in. I mean, Gabe. Gabe is. He’s so needy.” Meg groaned and rubbed her face. “God. We’ve been working on a grisly case.”

  “Sounds exciting,” Holly said, lifting her eyebrows, as if to say, sounds terrible. “And I don’t want to hear about it. As much as I love peering into the jaws of hell.”

  “Somebody’s got to.” Meg started moving toward the door. “So you know, make yourself at home. Eat something. Go out, see the sights. Enjoy a breath of freedom, and all that nonsense.”

  “That’s a sunny attitude. I love it,” Holly observed in a wry tone. Meg had always possessed a more cynical attitude about life and even when she attempted to sound positive, it came across as sour. “The life of a detective.”

  Meg paused at the door and glanced one more time back at her sister. “Stay safe, Holly. It’s good to have you home.”

  “Say hey to Gabe. He was a good brother-in-law.”

  “Was. Right?” Meg laughed and shut the door.

  Alone, Holly stared at the room, sitting with her hands on her thighs. It was kind of amazing, what her life had become. Ex-prisoner. No job. Also an ex-elementary school teacher. A widow. And she was only twenty-nine.

  And now what?

  She stood up and went into the spare room, where she would be staying. There were some clean black pants in a closet and several plain shirts in various colors, a few of them were button downs. A nice jacket for the eclipses, which sometimes took a while, and the temperature always dropped about ten to twenty degrees. It was smart to be ready for those.

  With one hand, she tested the bed. Firm, but soft. Everything smelled clean. And there were two plants in the room. A jade plant and a thin-leafed tropical variety.

  She went into the bathroom. Immaculate and well lit. She felt like a queen. Like the most ordinary thing was a total luxury. She took off her grimy and rumpled clothes and hopped into the shower. It had been ages since she’d been able to shower in a private bathroom.

  After she’d cleaned up and dressed, she stood in the center of the condo kitchen and living room and stared out the row of windows, thinking about what she should do next. The Spireway was visible in the distant tower tops, connecting their upper reaches. They were a transit option for the tower-heavy districts of the city. Holly had missed having access to them during her prison time. She grabbed the five or six round novas off the kitchen counter that Meg had left for her, left the condo, and rode the elevator to the 170th floor. She went out onto the crowded platform. Druiviins and Centaus pushed against her as the mass of people moved—they were just like everyone else when it came to a crowd, though they believed they were better than the other races.

>   Holly stopped at the railing on the edge of the platform that encircled the exterior of the spire top. Above her, the windows of the remaining top five floors glinted and winked the sunlight back at her.

  The view of the city took her breath away—the nearby Ice Jade district towers gleamed. A dusty haze turned the furthest buildings into looming, indistinct forms. She inhaled, catching the fragrance of the breeze as it carried the distant scent of the gardens and farmlands outside the city into the eyries of the spire tops. Holly had learned, as a child in school, that Ixion was around the same distance from the sun as old Earth had been from Sol, which meant that Kota and the other moons that orbited the gas giant enjoyed a similar atmosphere to what her ancestors had known.

  She still often wondered what that place was like. Earth. Did it feel like Kota? How much did Ixion change the planet she called home? What sort of problems could there have been in a world where everyone was human, rather than the tensions that simmered below the surface between the four races on the six-moons? Holly caught herself. She hadn’t thought about such abstract ideas in a long time. Graf had pressed the joy of living out of her. She’d been under his thumb for so long, even now she still felt like she should rush home to make sure he wasn’t mad at her.

  She waited in line for a gondola. When it was her turn, and one swept into the disembarking zone, she waited with a bit of trepidation and a lot of impatience as the the gate opened and a chittering group exited. Holly jumped in, alone. She punched in a destination and it taxied away from the platform. Once it was free of the platform, it took off at a decent clip. The walls of the enclosed unit were made of a clear, powerful material, except the floor, which was opaque. The interior had a bench seat all around the outer walls. A pole in the center held a small panel with controls for the walls and windows—it could turn the walls opaque or lower the upper windows to chest height, which Holly programmed it to do.

  She went to the open window. A breeze swept through her hair. Unfettered rays of sunlight bumped against her vision. The City of Jade Spires sparkled and winked at her. She stretched her hand out the window and surfed her fingers across the wind, breathing in the singular air of freedom only a journey on the Spireway could make her feel.

  5

  The next morning, Holly jolted upright in bed, disoriented by her surroundings. She clutched the comforter to her chest and looked around wildly. Then she remembered: she was out of prison! In Meg’s condo.

  She collapsed back into the bed in relief.

  It was late already, almost lunchtime. Sleeping in so long was a luxury. Just, being cozy, with no bells or alarms or jarring announcements over loudspeakers. And absolutely no one ordering her around. It was nice.

  She snuggled back down into the covers, breathed deep, and thought about the previous evening and her reunion with Lucy, her niece. That had been nice. Chatting, hearing what was up in her little eleven-year old life.

  As she remembered, Holly fell asleep again and dozed for a bit longer.

  An hour later, she was up and shuffling aimlessly around Meg’s posh apartment. At least, compared to the City of Jade Spires’ minimum security women’s prison, it was lavish and luxurious and the view was breathtaking. Holly found some bread and made toast. And there was still warm coffee in the thermos carafe as well as a little machine that made the lovely Druiviin drink known as kasè quickly. She drank and ate near the window, watching the city below and the clear gondolas of the Spireway overhead going by.

  She cleaned up her breakfast mess and got dressed, her mind ruminating on the problems that now pressed in on her: how the hell was she supposed to make money? What sort of job prospects were there for her? How soon could she find her own place and move out? Meg was kind, but honestly there was still a seed of contention tucked away in Holly’s heart like a grain of sand, etching away at her peace, irritating the relationship and sense of loyalty she felt for her sister. In a way—and it sounded spoiled, but there was no way around it—she’d still probably be able to go back to teaching if Meg had done her job better.

  Soon she was down on the streets, pushing her way through the crowds beneath the ice-jade colored buildings, her mind still fixated on what she could do to make money. How many jobs were available for former prisoners?

  It sucked to call herself that, but there was no way to hide from it. During her time in prison, she was able to just accept the reality of her situation on some level, because it wasn’t actively holding her back and she merely had to have hope that something would change and she’d get out soon. Now that she was out, mission accomplished. And the task before her relied on remedying the injustice of having a goddamn record.

  She passed restaurants and food carts with hawkers pushing their wares at her. She turned them down, usually politely, until one or two got too eager and forceful, and then she barked at them. The sidewalks were filled with wealthy-looking city-dwellers, the kind that could afford condos in this district. Many of them were the violet-skinned, light-haired Yasoan, usually a head or two taller than Holly, dressed in wide-sleeved, silky coats and plain shirts which seemed to be the standard attire for their race. That and the belted pants that shimmered in soft pale colors below a knotted sash belt. This was the dress of both males and females, but occasionally Holly passed a Yasoan wearing human styles. They were the odd ones out, however, and it often made Holly pause and wonder why they were doing it.

  There were also a lot more Centau in this district than in many of the others, though they typically preferred to live in the extremely wealthy Green Jade district. They were even taller than the Druiviin and favored dark colored robes and bright sashes made of an exotic linen from their homeworld befitting their smug nature, and which accentuated their normally tan to dark brown skin. Holly didn’t have a lot of experience with the Centau, and she’d always liked it that way. In terms of population, there were fewer Centau than the other races. But the most powerful people on the 6-moons were the Centau. They controlled everything, only delegating less powerful roles to the Druiviin and then humans or Constellations. Of course, in one way that all made sense—the Centau, who hailed from several star systems in the Centaurus constellation region, were the ones who brought the other races to this moon system.

  The crowds filed along the sidewalks, heading to their commerce office jobs. Holly stopped to look inside the shops located at the bottoms of the towers, wondering if she could get a job selling something. There was a clothing shop filled with styles humans were in love with lately—styles harkening back to Earth’s golden age—blazer jackets for men, top hats, ruffled sleeves, dress shirts, and dresses for women. Holly backed away and glanced down at her own clothing. Plain black pants, a blazer, and a dress shirt beneath it. The blazer she only wore for the eclipse that would happen later on in the day. She usually kept one just for that reason.

  She moved on, soaking in the sights and mulled over her problem. What she needed was novas. It was imperative that she get her own apartment. She hadn’t been on her own for seven years. Hooking up with Graf at just twenty-two and then marrying him a short time later, and then, of course, everything that entailed, well, it was time for Holly to be on her goddamn own. But she needed novas for that.

  And of course she felt hog-tied about a job. How could she begin to work with a record? Who would hire her?

  She needed novas.

  It was an endless, repeating cycle.

  “Great, well, now I have an ulcer,” she muttered to herself. A tall Druiviin with an elegant face turned to look at her.

  “Talking to myself, sorry,” she told him. He smiled, ran his hand through his hair, and moved away.

  Holly pulled out of the stream of pedestrians and leaned against the window of the nearest shop. She sighed, then took several breaths. She heard the faintest sound of music. Having nothing else to do except dwell on her dismal future, she followed the noise.

  It took her further down the street in the direction she’d been heading, and
then she took a slight turn into an alleyway between two towers. Garbage littered the street as she walked between stacks of crates. It was funny, she thought, how quickly she could go from feeling optimistic about her future to dreading it. A slight change in her path, prison, then freedom, then bam, she had no hope.

  I’m pathetic, she laughed at herself and then pushed the door open beneath a glowing neon sign just fifty feet into the ally.

  The Carbon Lounge.

  Inside, the lounge was lit by soft blue lights that surrounded a sleek bar top. There were glossy white stools around the bar, while overhead the gentle yellow-hued lighting came from a series of molecular-styled strands with a glowing orb at the vertices. Around the room people sat at sleek white tables, relaxing at lounge couches, enjoying drinks and games of cards and dice. It wasn’t very crowded for the middle of the day—or maybe that was normal. When Holly was a teacher, she never spent time in bars in the middle of the day, so she didn’t know what “normal” was. She took a seat at a clunky stool at the bar and ordered an imperial ale with ember quince fruit referenced in the name.

  The bartender popped the top off and then handed her the beer. She took a long drink and sighed. It was a nice bar. A very nice one. She’d have to remember where it was and come back later, after this little break from her stress. Music thumped from speakers hidden away around the narrow room, but the bass was the loudest part. The noise of people talking and laughing was the other predominant sound. She held the bottle and spun in the stool to watch the people. Maybe inspiration would strike as she relaxed and appreciated her environment. Maybe out there, in that hip ambiance, there was a job waiting for her. Ha, she thought dryly.

  She stood up and strolled around the room as she finished her drink, which tasted really great—Holly had yet to meet a beer she’d didn’t like in some way. Stopping at a table where three people were playing a game of dice, Holly sipped the remnants of her beer and observed.