* * *
Back at the Bird’s Nest, her crew responded just the way she knew each of them would to the news that there were behemoths preying on ships along the aetherway to Shakti.
Darius laughed. Odeon stared at her silently then nodded like he had her back. Shiro made a noncommittal noise, his eyes widened, and he seemed nervous but hesitant to express that. Charly punched her fist into her palm.
“I can take them. Bring it on!” she roared. Her eagerness to engage with the monsters was accentuated by her attire—a tight, sleeveless dress with a slit up to her thigh. A soiree with a new political faction of Centaus was happening soon at her club.
“Ah, it’ll be fine,” Darius chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “For me. I’ll be here on the comms giving you my best back up and pep talks. Don’t worry. I’ll really have your backs.”
“Helpful. Charly,” Holly said, jerking her chin at Darius, “Take him down. Fists.”
“Come on, Drake. You don’t expect me to not make a joke out of it. Humor is the only way to approach a massive monstrosity like this.”
“And what can we do about it, Ms. Drake? You know I’m not fond of putting any of us in unnecessary danger, especially a danger that we can’t fight.”
“Why can’t you shoot them?” Darius asked.
“That only works if your ship is bigger than they are. Trip’s ship isn’t,” Odeon said, moving through some stances and exercises in the corner near the window to the Surge Club floor below. He used the Ousaba in the steps. His motions were deliberate and slow, calculated like a dancer’s. They’d serve him well during an actual fight.
“Take another ship?” Darius rubbed his chin.
“There’s no time. Xadrian said our best bet is to get a way to run the ship cold. To disguise ourselves from the behemoths. I have no idea if that’s even a thing, but if we’re going to dig into whatever’s going on with the remains of the Shadow Coalition, and potentially locate George, then this is what we have to do.” She refrained from bringing up the things she’d seen with the kids out on the streets of the city. She’d tell them when she knew more, when it didn’t just sound like she was being paranoid.
Darius dropped into his desk chair and interacted with his bay of computers. “And while you’re at it, Drake, I’d suggest a way to defend against them if one of them gets a grip on you.”
“That’s a heartwarming sentiment. Darius, can you connect with your sources and see who could sell us what we need? If we need to, schedule us a trip to whatever distant moon we have to get to to buy what we need.”
“It’ll probably be the furthest moon from our position currently.”
“It always is.”
“Ms. Drake, while we were out looking for possible new jobs, I located one that we might like to entertain as a possibility.”
She motioned for him to continue speaking. “It’ll have to wait, but let me hear it.”
“It’s to lift a valuable piece of pottery from the private collection of a noted, wealthy Constellation. The woman is said to have taken it from another collector. The pottery was a fusion of two styles, one from Earth and the other from Yaso. The artist was an original colonist from Earth who is said to have come here to explore the new races and learn their creation methods.”
Holly had been inspecting her aether whip and knives as Shiro spoke. She stopped and watched him as he explained the possible gig. It sounded compelling and interesting—it was something she’d learned to appreciate—the excitement of hearing about lost pieces of art that the elites stole from each other. It was a petty game that went on between them, a system of one-uppery and incessantly vying to have the most art, to be considered so cultured that your collection carried the widest range of pieces from the furthest reaches of the galaxy, that went so far back as to be ancient. They were a circus act and they seemed to know it, but their compulsions pushed them to continue their infighting and thieving from each other.
At one point she’d valued the sentiment that she wasn’t a thief or the leader of thieves. She continued to feel that way, but now, with the things she’d seen between the elites, she knew the truth—that they all considered themselves the rightful, original owner of whatever item they were commissioning them to steal. It was a gray area. She’d found a balance living in it, especially when she’d been able to define evil better by contrasting it with what her father had been doing. Seeing true exploitation enlightened her.
“Did you find out any more details on the job?”
“Not much. It doesn’t appear to be a rush. Perhaps we could embark on it after the trip to Shakti.” He drew his sword and joined her in studying his weapon, looking for blemishes. Holly had a honing stone out on the coffee table and he asked to use it. They worked together in silence for a moment until he spoke again. “That is, do it if we make it back.”
She looked at him. “Are you worried?”
He shrugged one shoulder and began running the stone up and down the edge of his sword. “It’s much farther than I’ve ever gone. I can’t say that inspires confidence in me. It will be exciting, but there’s usually an element of danger with any exciting journey.”
“That’s true.”
“What changed your mind, Ms. Drake? You know the vase job could be something we do instead.” They sat together in the middle of the furniture arrangement while around them the other crewmembers were absorbed in their own tasks. Charly was arranging centerpieces for the cocktail tables on the club floor and transporting them down. The Yasoan Torden had joined her, dressed in his best bartender getup. Odeon had stopped doing poses and had lowered himself into a lotus position to begin meditating. Darius muttered to himself about his searches on the net. Holly suspected that he’d be interrupting her soon to update her on the results of his searches.
Holly lowered her voice. She would tell him, because the weight of what she’d been seeing was greater than she cared to admit. Iain didn’t know. Neither did Odeon or Charly. It was her weight to bear, but Shiro had asked. “I haven’t explained this to anyone else. Please keep the information safe until I know more. I went to Elan’s school, you know that, right? For a demonstration that, turns out, Charly would have been better at. Anyway, some of the orphaned students that Elan has been teaching have been leaving. Elan, Val, and Estie and the other teachers and administrators can’t keep them there against their will. So, Elan hasn’t. But he’s concerned. He doesn’t know how concerned to be. Are they just taking off and finding paying work? Or is it something else? We don’t know. But around the city I’ve been catching sight of teenagers talking to former members of the SC.”
“And you know that these are former SC members?”
“They have the cephalopod tattoo. So, yes, I think so.”
“I would take that as evidence as well. Alarming indeed.” A shadow crossed his face. His brow furrowed, and he looked into the middle distance as though puzzling it out. “That suggests dark times ahead.”
“It seems like the best way to get to the bottom of it, Shiro, is to go toward the darkness. To me that means taking this job of Xadrian’s. What is he up to? Is it related to my father? Is it concerning something else? Does it have to do with the children? I can’t find out more if we don’t take these risks. No one has to go that who doesn’t want to. I’m afraid of the leviathans and behemoths, but I have to do it.”
Darius let out a whoop. “Got a read on a location for the devices. Guess who?”
“I can’t. Just tell me. Far away, I know that much,” Holly said dryly, exchanging a look with Shiro, who was beginning to smile.
“You got it, girl. Macav Onini. You and your away team are booked on the next flight. Can’t dawdle. We don’t want to miss the outer space wildlife between here and Shakti. You don’t, that is.”
Shiro touched her lightly on the arm and leaned close to speak quietly. “Don’t count me out just because I expressed some misgivings, Ms. Drake. I couldn’t turn away from an adventure with you, n
o matter how dangerous.”
10
By the time they were at Macav Onini’s door, Holly was running on fumes—sleep on the zeppelin trip had been impossible due to anxiety about the upcoming journey to Shakti. She could finally empathize with Iain and his desire to hole up in a small paint shop in Analogue Alley. She was exhausted from the relatively tiny flights between moons and yet she was already dreading the flight to Shakti. The leviathans and behemoths still concerned her, but more than ever, she just didn’t want to be cooped up in a ship. Trip’s ship had even less space than a zeppelin, so it would be a much rougher journey. She bit her lip as the three of them—Holly, Shiro, and Odeon—arrived at the door. Trip’s ship was what Holly was planning on, providing their Centau friend would even take them. They still hadn’t asked her.
Shiro rapped on the door with the head of his cane, then buzzed the door intercom. Odeon leaned against his Ousaba and Holly stretched, hoping that the movement would wake her up more and help her feel alert. It was the middle of the early morning on Helo. The Halo Stand was drenched in sunlight. Streams and rivulets of water ran down the glass of windows on either side of the door to Macav’s building, and down the narrow gutters along the street behind them.
A recent artificial rain had just sprayed down from the invisible system of nets suspended over the stand, cleaning the dust off the streets, windows, and stone that made up the buildings. Helo was an engineering wonder, a marvel that Holly rarely considered as anything beyond a distant nuisance that she was forced to ride zeppelins to reach. On a good day, she had the proper awe for the massive pylon-supported city on the water-covered planet. But today, today she was preoccupied and tired.
“Ah, hello there. Who is it? Nevermind. I’ve been expecting you. Leaving your nest to come see me? But do remind me who you are? This is where you give me the code.” The voice came through the speaker on the scanner lock.
“The Sleeping Giant Traveling Troupe,” Holly said, rolling her eyes for Shiro and Odeon to see.
The door opened on its own.
Shiro snorted. “I didn’t know he knew the name of our little base of operations. Well, I guess someone’s been blabbing to sir Macav about our crew secrets. Wonder who that would be.”
They followed Odeon inside. He moved cautiously and stealthily through the communal entry, on the lookout for the unexpected. Macav was an unknown variable despite their frequent dealings with him. He had no allegiances as far as they knew, so he might decide that Holly and her team were a bargaining chip that could net him a lot of wealth and fame or at the very least wealth, if not fame.
At least, that was what Odeon had mentioned on their walk to Macav’s from the space elevator landing pad.
Macav met them at the top of the stairs that led to his two floors of condo and they followed him inside. Floor to ceiling windows lined the walls, tinted enough to shield some of the uninterrupted sunlight. Thick, plush rugs covered the floor and tropical Centau-influenced plants stood in the corners with their long blade-like leaves swaying in a breeze from the silent climate control system.
Macav Onini was a Constie, but he wore the fact that he’d been raised by Centau like a uniform. It was one of his prevailing themes. Regaling others with stories of his upbringing seemed to be standard when Macav was involved. He was a genius, but annoying in his unapologetic self-awareness.
As they traipsed into the main entertaining room of his home, Holly couldn’t help but stare. He was beautiful and exotic, not solely because he was a wealthy and powerful Constellation, but due to his presentation. His pale complexion glittered like a porcelain glaze, his dyed midnight blue hair was piled up into a Yasoan-style bun. He was dressed in traditional Yasoan attire, though he also often wore the robes that were popular in Centau fashion. Today’s outfit was a casual squarish top and white pants made of a linen fabric.
“Please turn off your comm units,” Macav said before anyone else could say anything. “Then we’ll talk business.” He went to his drinks counter and poured himself a glass of Xachot Branco. “Anyone else?” He held up the three bulbed tumbler. The dark blue liquid left a thick film on the glass as it swirled within the vessel.
Holly shook her head, as did the rest of her crew. Only Shiro and Odeon had made it this time. Charly was saving her time away from the Surge club for the trip to Shakti, which would be a major undertaking. They each fumbled about their persons for their communicators, then turned them off.
“Well, as you like it. No drinks. But I won’t pretend that I’m not slightly offended that you refuse my hospitality.”
“I love hospitality,” Holly said. “If you’re taking requests for hospitality, I’d sincerely appreciate a discount on my bill.”
Macav laughed, but his eyes were devoid of mirth. They were cold and calculating. “Hospitality is not discounts on my products. You’ll always respect me because I make you pay a fair market price for my inventions.”
“Well, you know why we’re here. And we don’t have a lot of time for polite conversation and casual drinks. We always come a long way to meet you, Macav. Have you considered moving to the City of Jade Spires? That would make everything easier on us.”
Macav laughed. “That cesspool? Never. On Kota I’d be just another low level grunt, much like the—“ he sniffed, and looked at Holly, then Shiro—“humans.”
“And other Constellations. Right, chap?” There were steel barbs laced through Shiro’s laugh. “You mean them as well, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” Macav said, strutting to the couch opposite them to sit down. He sipped his wine. “I definitely meant them.”
Holly pressed her lips together. A slight against her race didn’t bother her. Tension was the expected status quo. Let Macav believe what he wanted. As long as he sold her what she wanted. “You have what we need.”
“A frequency modulator and signal transponder? That’s what I heard.”
“Yes, but we’re also looking for some other potential devices.”
“Ah, do tell.”
“Darius didn’t tell you?”
“Yes, of course he did, but tell me again.” Macav sipped his drink, stood up, and moved closer to where Holly sat on one of the posh sofas. He sank into the cushion, this time only a few feet away. He carried himself with the air of power. He sat with an air of power as well. He knew he had things that people wanted and he wasn’t going to pretend to be a pushover. But, Holly could tell from his expression that he didn’t remember the other things they needed if Darius had indeed mentioned what they wanted.
“We also need a way to make our ship run cold.”
“Ah, smuggling, are we?” Macav asked, his eyes dancing.
“Hardly,” Shiro said, sounding offended.
“Well that’s what a device like that is used for, my friend.”
“It’s not to hide illegal goods. It’s to shield ourselves from the behemoths and leviathans,” Odeon offered. Holly noted that his voice had taken on a softer tone, almost song-like. Was he employing his techniques to sooth Macav and get a cheaper price? Macav’s fingernails were suddenly incredibly interesting. He held up his free hand and focused his gaze on it.
“Ah, oh yes. That’s another use. I’d forgotten that one. Behemoths don’t usually come into the inner moon region.” He stopped inspecting his fingernails and looked at each of them individually for a moment. “Unless. Unless you’re going out past the moons. Where are you going, my friends? That’s it, isn’t it? You’re traveling somewhere beyond our safe little orbits around Ixion?”
Holly bristled. She liked Macav. But he was a dealer in the underworld. Trust wasn’t something she handed out for free. He had his own interests and would serve them before he served others. “It’s something I prefer to not talk about.”
She half expected a fight from him or some kind of move to extort the information out of her. Instead he moved on and began plying them with stories of how to escape the monsters that lived in the aether.
“A friend was traveling out to Bromo for a military operation. We fitted his ship with one of these modulators.”
Holly’s communicator buzzed in her jacket pocket. The sound vibrated against her side and made her jump.
Macav’s eyes widened. “Ready for a dance, are we?”
“Is everything OK, Holly?” Odeon asked, moving from his position against the wall between the sitting area and a wide, well-appointed kitchen. He took two steps toward her.
“Yes.” She pulled her communicator from her pocket. “It was just this. The screen flashed in bold neon letters Elan.
“Your boyfriend?” Macav asked.
Holly didn’t grace his prying comment with a response. “Just a moment. Please, keep the conversation going between yourselves.” She answered the call while rising and moving into a secluded corner of the room. She bent her head and answered. “Elan, is everything ok?” Her tone was subdued. She raised her gaze to glance at Macav. He watched her from his position on the sofa. But he continued to speak to Odeon and Shiro and seemed unperturbed by her interruption. Movement from her peripheral vision caught her attention. She looked that way, toward the kitchen and a doorway that led out of it. Her heart leapt when she saw a figure there.
A very large figure. A hulking male, really. He wore a sleeveless shirt and he made sure Holly saw him. Holly started. It was the first time she’d ever considered that one of her underground dealers would have bodyguards—that’s what it was, wasn’t it? Macav didn’t invite people to his inner sanctum only to make himself an easy target. She was glad, in fact, to note it. Seeing caution in her colleagues made her realize that the solar system was as unsafe as it often felt. There were shadows lurking around and when she forgot they existed, that moment of bliss, while pleasant, represented letting her guard down. And that was always when disaster struck.
The Colossus Collection : A Space Opera Adventure (Books 1-7 + Bonus Material) Page 92
