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

by Nicole Grotepas

  “Is this when you murder me and hide my body?” Holly asked in a teasing tone.

  Odeon looked at her. “Or you, me.”

  “Oh man. Ouch. Low, Odeon. It was self-defense.” She felt irritated despite herself. It would have been nice to not have him ever know about her past. And she should have seen that coming, with Cosma bringing it up. Of course she would—she’d known Graf and Holly. She took a deep breath as they descended the stairs. “I’m not leading you to a dark basement, am I?”

  “Is that how it’s done?” Odeon opened a door at the bottom of the stairs. An alarm went off, then stopped. “Sounds like you know how to do it, which is disturbing. That’s OK. The alarm—it’s normal.”

  “Is it?” Holly felt genuinely curious.

  “Yes.” Odeon said, leading her further into the corridors beneath the taproom. She could hear the sounds of beer taps being engaged as well as CO2 tanks for sodas.

  She knew Odeon probably wouldn’t murder her. But after so many years with Graf—well, she had issues, now. Issues that meant she suspected everyone and never felt safe. Odeon seemed harmless. And he probably was, for the most part. But well, was anyone actually harmless? She didn’t think so. Odeon could kill her. Or he could try, anyway. Anyone could try to kill her. But she was a fighter, she’d proven that to herself now. Her family were all fighters—her parents retired police on Joppa, another moon in the system. But Holly never thought she’d need to fight nor did she care for it. The thing with Graf sneaked up on her. What she knew was that she could take a beating, and still get up to fight.

  Wait a minute. What was she thinking? Odeon wasn’t charismatic like Graf had been. So far she hadn’t seen him trying to constantly convince everyone around him that he was a great guy. He never drew attention to himself, like the kind of sociopathic personality Holly had experience with. Graf had needed, compulsively, to make everyone like him. He was loud and annoying and wanted to be the center of attention, because if he could keep everyone distracted with his little show, they’d never see his true colors.

  Could a Druiviin even be a murderer?

  She put her hand on the hilt of the aether gun underneath her blazer and shirt. She most likely wouldn’t need it. But knowing it was there as she followed Odeon through this warren of tunnels, made her feel like there was a way out.

  “Here it is,” Odeon said, glancing over his shoulder at Holly. His eyes narrowed when he saw the expression on her face. “Are you OK, Holly?”

  “What? Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, moving her hand away from the gun. “Just feeling sort of trapped.”

  “Should I sing to you?”

  “No, thanks. I need my senses sharp.”

  They went through the doorway. A room full of gambling tables opened up before them. It was crowded. Smoke rose from several cigars and cigarettes. A din of conversations, calling, and bets, filled the air. There were card games and roulette going on, as well as craps and several games that catered to the Constellations, like Ironcast and Force of Glory, that they’d brought with them from their home world.

  “He said he’d be here.” Odeon looked around the room from where they stood at the top of the stairs.

  “Odeon, what is this? A speakeasy?” Holly instantly felt uncomfortable amidst the illegal activity.

  “That’s what it’s called, yes,” Odeon said, putting his hand on her arm. She felt warm and instantly calm.

  Holly shrugged his hand away and the trepidation returned.

  “Don’t worry. If the police wanted to break this up, they would have done so already. I think they’re being paid off. There he is,” Odeon said, heading down the stairs and into the crowd.

  They pushed through the bodies. Smells of alcohol and cigarette smoke mixed with the odors of sweat, excitement, and money. It was so crowded Holly didn’t realize they’d arrived at the table where Odeon’s friend was playing. Craps, she noticed, when she glanced over the heads of the people surrounding the table.

  “Holly, this is my friend Darius,” Odeon said, stepping back slightly to reveal a familiar face to Holly.

  “Oh hell,” Holly said with a grimace. “I know him.”

  “Sweetheart!” Darius said with a grin. “We’ve met, Odeon. She saved my ass a few days ago.”

  Odeon’s bright gaze turned to Holly.

  “I didn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “No, he involved me and I didn’t want to be involved and he got away with cheating.”

  “You loved the excitement of it all. I did involve her, that’s true. But she didn’t object too soundly, so I took that to mean she appreciated the distraction.”

  “Can we please go somewhere else to talk? I’m not having an involved conversation here. It’s too loud,” Holly shouted at them.

  “What?” Darius shouted back.

  “Odeon, can we please leave?” Holly said, in a normal voice, trusting his superb hearing to catch what she said.

  Odeon nodded and leaned close to Darius’s ear to tell him. They waited while he pulled his chips out of the game and followed them back into the hallways through which they’d come.

  Upstairs, they got their own low drink table and sat on the tufted leather seats. Holly breathed a sigh of relief. Though the room had an ambient level of sound of its own, it was nowhere near as loud as the basement speakeasy. And she wasn’t engaging in illegal activity to be there. Gambling was illegal in the 6-moons. The Centau claimed that it encouraged humans and Consties to waste their money and give them false hope.

  “If you’re going to do what you plan to, Holly, you’ll need to find a way to manage the gray areas.” Odeon sipped the drink the server brought by.

  “Gray area?” Holly repeated, confused.

  “He means that you’ll need to figure out how to be OK with some morally questionable activities. If the stuff downstairs bothered you, then think how hard it will be to pull your job off.” They’d already explained the job to Darius and he wanted in, but Holly still hadn’t given the affirmative. Because she didn’t want to.

  She was still annoyed at Darius for pointedly ignoring her requests back at the Carbon Lounge. He didn’t deserve to be on her team. To earn that much money. To be trusted with any aspect of her safety or her team’s safety.

  From a logical standpoint, as well, she wasn’t convinced he was a good bet. Nothing they’d told her made her feel like he was a better choice than simply finding someone else. Still, time was against her. She still needed to get the rest of the information from Xadrian. How long could she take handpicking a team from a pool of unknowns?

  Odeon kept giving her an imploring look, his bright eyes dancing beneath the taproom’s lighting. She scooted away from him so that he didn’t touch her to artificially alter her mood.

  “Holly, I would never do that,” he said, seeing what she did and guessing the reason why.

  “I don’t believe you,” she said.

  “Do what?” Darius asked, munching on a tempera vegetable appetizer.

  “Change my mood with his song or touch,” Holly said, leaning forward to grab her beer. It was a high volume dark ale, beautiful and arrayed in a three-flute beer glass unique to Constie drinking culture.

  “He’s never done that to me. You must be special,” Darius pointed out. “Of course, he’s done other things to me. Just not that.”

  Holly did a gesture her elementary school students used to do and rolled her eyes. “Spare me the details.”

  “Alright, but you’re missing out,” Darius said.

  “Darius would be good at this job, even though he’s uncouth and badly mannered in many ways,” Odeon said, vouching for the human. “I’ve known him for a while.”

  “Thank you, Odeon. That’s very kind of you.” Darius picked up his drink and sipped it, then cleaned his hands off on a cloth napkin. “I would definitely be an asset to your team, Ms. Drake. You’ve seen me in two elements. Well, one, really. Gambling. And that is my one vice. Otherwise I’m organized and responsible.
When you see me gambling, which has been both times we’ve met, you see me doing the thing I do to cut loose and relax. I run a tight ship everywhere else. Plus I have skills that could assist in a getaway.”

  Holly cocked her head to listen and then said, once he’d finished, “Prove it.”

  “Oh, I can. Allow me to do that,” Darius said.

  A tussle arose back toward the corridor that led to the speakeasy. Holly craned her neck in her seat to see what was happening. Odeon caught Holly looking and turned to look himself, and then so did Darius. There were two men that looked like security guards as well as a table dealer from the basement, and they were pointing toward Holly’s party.

  “Oh shit,” Darius said. “Run!” He said jumping over the low table, then over an empty section of the seat, and bolted for the doors out to the street.

  “What? Run?” Holly asked, and got up and leapt after him, not taking the time to notice if Odeon was behind her.

  “Hey! Stop!” She heard as they passed security guards who tried to close in on them as they got to the doors.

  “What have you done this time Darius?” Odeon called. Holly was relieved to hear him behind her.

  “I don’t even know, just keep going!” He yelled back over his shoulder. They burst out onto the street and despite wanting to get as far away from Darius as possible, Holly followed him through the streets and crowds, her heart thudding against her ribs.

  She ran and ran, keeping close to Darius and then slowed to a jog, heard someone behind her, and picked up the pace again.

  “How long can this go on?” Holly asked.

  “It must have been a lot of money, Darius,” Odeon said. He barely sounded winded.

  “Just follow me,” Darius said, turning in to an alleyway and then, reaching the end of it, turned back down another street going south again. He led them through side alleys and doors that became interior open markets, through the crowds that filled them, and then back out again, and then finally, he leapt into an elevator just as the doors were sliding shut, that took them up to a Spireway dock. They boarded the first empty gondola and zipped away.

  Darius laughed. “That was invigorating. Wasn’t it? Nothing like a good chase to get the blood going.” He went to the bench along the interior of the gondola and sat down.

  Holly began to breathe easier. She looked ahead to see what direction their gondola was heading—toward the Ice Jade district. Then she glanced back behind them and noticed that their pursuers were in the gondola just behind them.

  “Oh, shit,” Holly said. “Goddamn it, Darius. This is really proving to me that you’d be an asset.”

  “Just wait for it, Holly,” Darius said. He stood up and pulled something out of his coat pocket. Two somethings, but Holly couldn’t tell what either of them were. Then Darius leaned out the window to reach for a gondola passing them.

  “Don’t even think it,” Holly said.

  “I agree, Darius. There are other passengers to think of,” Odeon said.

  He came back into the gondola. “You guys thought I was going to climb out and jump? Are you insane? I was checking the distance.” He set a small mechanical ball-like device at their feet. “OK, now act natural.” The ball whirred and then clicked.

  Darius picked the ball up and then went to the edge of the gondola. Suddenly a rotor popped out of the top of it and the ball lifted out of his palm. With the other hand, he used a small controller to steer the ball out the window and across the gap separating the gondolas, where it went inside an empty passing gondola. He tapped a button on the controller.

  “Get down!” he said.

  “Why, why are we getting down?” Holly asked, doing exactly that.

  “See for yourself, just don’t let the guards on that gondola back there see you.”

  Holly peeked over the edge of their gondola at the one receding from them. Through the open windows, she spotted the three of them inside that gondola! Herself, Odeon, and Darius. Three dimensional holograms that looked exactly like them, and the security team chasing them were pointing at the other gondola as it passed. Their holograms turned to look at them and waved. She ducked back down beneath the line of windows.

  “How’d you do that?” Holly asked.

  “That’s why you need me on your team, Ms. Drake,” Darius said.

  She looked at Odeon who nodded.

  16

  It was decided then. She would take the job. For real this time. Definitely. There would be no more waffling, indecision, or succumbing to fears of not being up to steal the Eye. Holly could be like Cosma. Cosma who faced massive thefts with the aplomb of a clever woman with nerves of steel. And laughed in the face of danger.

  Holly could do that. It was totally her.

  She activated the scanner lock and opened the door of Meg’s apartment and walked in. The lights rose in answer to her presence and she sat down, wearily on the couch, noticing that she had the condo to herself

  Getting away from the Echo Taproom security had worn her out, emotionally, physically, mentally. Darius lived on the edge and Holly was beginning to think she didn’t like it there, constantly running, about to get caught or killed by someone.

  She was so exhausted. She hadn’t been this exhausted since her first weeks in prison. Thinking about that reminded her: Charly should be out. She needed to go see her soon. It’d be nice to see an old friend who knew her past and wasn’t afraid of it. That was one of the exhausting things, as well, always thinking about what she said in order to protect her past. She never knew how someone would react to the truth. For hell’s sake, she was pretty sure if someone she’d just met told her exactly what Holly had done—shot her husband in self-defense—she’d think they were a liar. And a terrible person. And dangerous. A loose cannon.

  Oh yeah? Self-defense? Yeah right She would think. But she’d tell them, “I believe you,” while having her doubts. She’d wonder if this person who’d shot someone they were supposed to love was potentially dangerous. Were they crazy? Were they deluded? Shot their husband? That poor man! And it made her sick to recognize that that might be what someone thought about her. But it was the truth and it was because one could never know what a person was really like on the inside, let alone what they were capable of.

  Holly stood up, feeling anxious and nervous and awash with self-doubt. Where were Meg and Lucy? She eyed the fridge, considering a beer, but instead went to the kitchen sink and saw the note from Meg on the table—Lucy was with Gabe and Meg was still working. She had the place to herself, then. She filled a glass with water and drank it in large gulps. For once she wished that Odeon were there to soothe her nerves.

  She went into her bedroom and looked through the closet. Her first day here, she’d noticed some boxes in the closet marked “Holly’s stuff” in black marker. She hadn’t dared to look inside, but right now there were only three things that she could imagine doing. One, eating a massive omelet full of spinach, feta cheese, and tomatoes—but she didn’t feel like making one. Two, taking a long hot bath, but Meg only had a shower. Or three, sorting through her past. Whatever was in those boxes, she needed to know and she needed to remember who she was and what mattered to her so that she could get over it. Move on. Let it go.

  She knelt in front of the box, her knees digging into the bamboo flooring and lifted the lid of the first one.

  Pictures in frames. The ones that had been on her wall in her old apartment, the one she’d shared with Graf.

  There was one of her and Graf on their honeymoon at a beach on Itzcap. “God, he was handsome,” she muttered. But such, such, such a dick.

  The photo was taken by someone else and Graf had his arm around her waist. The were both dripping wet, wearing their swimming suits. Pink sand covered their legs. Graf's dark brown eyes looked as soft as a blanket and his grin was inviting, white teeth brilliant, a dimple in one cheek. It was almost like he hadn’t become the person who could punch her in the face for not being home when he got home from work. That
came later. Sometimes a pang went through Holly. A worry, that it was she who brought that out in him. That it was her fault that he couldn’t not hit her.

  She set the picture on the floor beside her knees, with Graf's face staring up at her, accusing her of an atrocity.

  “What about your atrocities?” she asked it. Normally Holly didn’t talk to herself. There weren’t very many ghosts that guilted her into it. But Graf's did.

  Beneath a few more photos of her and Graf together, there were some of Graf alone. None of Holly alone. That was something she’d never thought about. But it struck her now—why weren’t there?

  The answer was simple enough. Holly was the one who went through the effort to get the photos developed and then framed. Graf didn’t care. And she never felt confident enough to just print a photo of herself, then hang it.

  Beneath the framed photos of herself and her former tormentor—He was a tormentor. Remember that, Hols. Remember it, for the love of God—there were photos that stopped her heart.

  Her children.

  She’d taught the first grade. It was a tough age, but probably the cutest of all the elementary grades. The kids were still figuring things out, but still didn’t quite grasp what was expected of them. They were the explorers of that age. They pushed boundaries to figure out what they were. And the entire universe was just opening up to them.

  Holly had framed all the classes of the years she’d taught and hung them at home in the spare bedroom she’d called her office. Graf hated her office. Something about it disturbed him and some of the glass or black frames were cracked from that last day, when he’d rampage through the apartment like one of the hurricanes from the sun-side of Helo, lashing against the walls, against the furniture, leaving chaos in its tracks.

  She held up one of the photos—it was one of her former classes. The children grinned at her, innocence written on their faces.

  Setting it aside, she lifted another photo. It was an odd one, since it wasn’t taken on picture day. It was done by one of the teachers, taken during Holly’s trial. They’d sent it to her along with a pile of crayon-drawn notes telling her how much they missed and needed her. “Get well soon, Mrs. Drake!” “I need you to help me read!” The school had told them she was sick.