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

by Nicole Grotepas

  18

  “Entering the aetherway now, Holly,” Trip said from her seat beside Holly on the navigation deck. “We should be to Joppa in seven hours. The moon is on the other side of Ixion. Couldn’t have picked a further spot to travel than that one right now.”

  Holly opened her eyes, interrupting her meditation. She was strapped in and intended to stay that way till they arrived.

  “I’ll just stay here.”

  “The entire time?” Trip asked, her smooth Centau features hardly budging with the news. There was always something placid about Centau faces, but then, Trip spent more time around humans and the other races than other Centaus. She’d adopted some of the habits humans favored, such as arching one eyebrow, as she was doing now.

  “Odeon’s not here. My plan is to meditate the entire journey.”

  “You’ll need to stretch your legs once or twice. It’ll be good for you.” Trip checked some readings on the console. “Your stats don’t look good, Holly. Your pulse is racing. Your breathing is shallow. Maybe one small drink would be wise.”

  “You could just ask me, you know, instead of checking on me via the ship’s readings. Besides, none of that is shocking. Everyone knows I hate this crap.” She gestured with one hand, then immediately returned her grip to the arm rest and dug her fingers into the material. The extra stress about Odeon must be making her more susceptible to the terror. She needed to remember how to shut down the sensitive side of herself.

  “Ms. Drake, would you like me to fetch you a strong drink from the galley?” Shiro’s voice came from behind her. There was the sound of his and Charly’s seat-restraints coming undone.

  “No thanks, Shiro.”

  “You sure, Hols?” Charly asked. “Come with us to the galley.”

  “I might, in a bit.”

  “What’s on Joppa?” Trip asked when Charly and Shiro had passed through the hatchway and it closed behind them.

  “A record.”

  “I see. Of what?”

  “No, a record, which is music. Carries information like data crystals. They’re very old. Pointless. But someone is looking for a specific one and we think it might be there.”

  “I have’t been to Joppa in many months. I think I’ll visit my friends who live there.”

  “Maybe we’ll have time for that.”

  “You mean, we need to be quick?”

  “Darius didn’t give you the details?”

  “None.”

  Holly sighed, preparing to tell Trip the pertinent details. “I’d hate to be in a relationship with him.”

  Charly and Shiro returned before she could begin filling the pilot in. Charly tapped Holly’s arm with a cold bottle of something. “Drink it. Doctor’s orders.”

  A mix of emotions washed over Holly. Irritation at being told what to do and having her wishes expressly ignored. And gratitude for her friend looking out for her.

  Holly relented and took a long pull of the ale. “One of my favorites.”

  “Trip keeps her fridge stocked with all your best loves. What are you guys discussing?” Charly asked, standing next to the viewer. A cam feed of an image outside the ship showed Ixion off in the distance in one direction and the sun in the other. She studied the screen and took a drink of her ale. It was good to see Charly in her work attire—not the dressed up in party-host costumes, but this one, the Charly in a tank, like she was about to get into a street brawl. They’d come so far from those early days just after prison when Charly raised funds with illegal fights in the basement of the Surge Club, before Charly bought it from the investors.

  “The job, which Darius told Trip nothing about.” The cold ale hit her nervous stomach and almost made her vomit. But she took several deep breaths until it settled.

  “I’m just glad I don’t have to date him.”

  “Charly, that is almost exactly what Holly said.” Trip laughed. “Where’s my drink?”

  “Ah, Ms. Taurus, I apologize,” Shiro said. “Charly and I became so wrapped up in a debate about bringing Holly a drink or not, that I forgot to bring you a drink.”

  “I don’t want to drink and fly anyway. The AI would handle it, but not yet. I’ll get one when I feel strongly that our course is settled.”

  The drink immediately began to work. Holly’s grip on the armrest relaxed. Her mind began to move past the fears that had frozen it. “When we get to Joppa, we’ll need to stake out the residence of the collector. Then figure out what we need to get in and get the vinyl and get out.”

  “I daresay that it won’t be likely to be held in a safe.”

  “We don’t know. I hope not. Because our safe-cracker is gone, and I don’t fancy wasting time on breaking into a safe that may not even hold the item we desire.”

  “Could hold money, though,” Charly pointed out.

  “True. And if it held enough, would we take it?” Holly knew the answer before she asked it.

  “I would.” Charly’s shoulder twitched in a shrug. She drank from her ale. “Don’t think you would, though.”

  “I’d rather get funds through somewhat honest means.”

  “This ain’t honest.”

  “Let’s not start this argument…”

  Shiro cleared his throat and interrupted. He sat along the bench against the hull of the ship. “Lasses, do consider that we might need other things. If the item is in a safe, what we must do to get it might be beyond our current tool level. Odeon, the poor chap, always carried the safe cracking tools.”

  “There could be loads that we need that we won’t know till we assess the mark’s home. That should be our first goal. Trip, when we get there, take us as close to that as your ship will get us.”

  “Can do, Holly Drake. Just give me the location.”

  19

  Their mark’s home was nestled in the outskirts of a city between verdant hills and large fields. Terraced rice paddies rose up and over vast hillsides. The homes were mostly open air or built from thin paper and screens. Their doors were almost universally open and the humid breeze passed through.

  Where Holly, Shiro, and Charly stayed, they tried to sleep but sweat poured off their bodies. Buzzing insects swarmed their faces and small reptiles crept across the walls and over the ceiling, snatching flies from the air with their tongues. Holly remembered just why she’d never grown to love Joppa—it was hot, muggy, and things never died. The tropical climate and fauna didn’t agree with her.

  They caught up on sleep the night after their arrival. Trip slept on her ship and visited her friends, relieving Holly of the obligation to put her up before their gig—they would contact her when they needed her services again. As much as she’d grown to love their Centau pilot, Trip was still largely untrained in the art of thieving and this moment was not the time to educate her.

  Morning sunlight spilled through a haze of morning mist blanketing the land. A film of sweat covered her as Holly planned what to do next with Charly and Shiro, which so far seemed to be staking out their mark’s residence.

  “And we are certain it’s not a shop of some kind?”

  “No. Let’s walk over. Shouldn’t take too long.”

  On their way they snagged kasé and pastries, attempting to blend in with the natives. That was difficult, since Holly’s travel attire was always boots, tight black trousers, and a tank under her jacket. Sometimes she varied it up with winter gear, but that was usually worn over the top.

  “Thank Ixion for this pick-me-up. I don’t even know if I slept last night,” Shiro said.

  “Probably because the sheets weren’t silk,” Charly said.

  Holly laughed.

  “Teasing, Shiro. I didn’t either. It’s the humidity and lack of climate control.”

  “I also didn’t sleep,” Holly said, sipping her drink. “According to the address, it should be just over this rise.”

  The area was hilly, as though a giant had made hundreds of small piles of dirt and then left them. Foliage grew over the top and then the nati
ves cultivated rice paddies and tropical fruit orchards. That was the one thing about Joppa that redeemed it. All the food. When Holly had lived here, she’d appreciated the constant diet of healthy vegetables and fruit, and maybe a side of rice.

  They passed several estates hidden behind tall wooden fences. Beyond the fences, pointed roofs were visible. Each estate seemed to have several buildings attached to it.

  “This one. This is it,” Holly said, walking past an estate and pointing. “But let’s keep going and watch from a distance, then get closer as we find out whether it’s currently got people in it or if it’s momentarily empty. Wouldn’t that be lucky? For once?” She almost laughed.

  “Wonderful thinking, Ms. Drake.” Shiro bit into a pastry, flakes of croissant fluttering around him like an explosion of snow. The mess he was making all over his green performance suit was testament, perhaps, to how exhausted he already was. “Let’s begin planning what tools we’ll need to accomplish this. I hear dogs barking on the other side of the fence.”

  “I heard them too. Dogs aren’t ideal for a break in.”

  “What’s the easiest solution?” Holly asked as they came to a cul-de-sac and turned into it, proceeded a few feet, then turned back around and inched slowly back toward the mouth.

  “Tranqs,” Charly said. “But I didn’t bring any.”

  “Ixion’s grandmother’s beard, Charly. Tranquilizers are not an easy solution,” Shiro said. “I take issue with that. Besides, where do we get tranqs fitted to the canine’s weight? We might accidentally kill them. I won’t participate in killing animals.”

  “Found Shiro’s weakness—animals. Never let your enemy know that, Shiro.”

  “You’re not my enemy,” he pointed out. “What sort of person would kill pets? Not even my enemies would do that.”

  “I know. Keep it that way. Because now I know your weakness. And anyway, Shir,” Charly said with an exaggerated sigh. “I wasn’t saying we should kill the animals.”

  “Moving on,” Holly said, pausing on the grassy path that ran along the street, bordering the fences that surrounded the wealthy resident’s paddocks. She leaned against it like she was merely pausing on her lovely morning stroll. Acting. For any eyes that may be watching. “An easier solution. Meat? Dog treats?”

  “Risky. I don’t know much about dogs, but I know that there are some dogs that are trained to ignore treats. Especially if they’re trained guard dogs.”

  “So what do you suggest?” Holly asked.

  Charly stood so that she could continuously observe their mark’s home and squinted. The morning sun began to burn off the mist. The heat increased and Holly began to feel like she was still standing in the shower she’d taken that morning, just an hour ago.

  “I’d err on the side of making certain the animals won’t be able to resist whatever temptation we bring them. Perhaps a raw steak?”

  “Sounds very cartoonish. Predictable.”

  “I would agree. But that may be why it’s stereotypical. Because it works so well.”

  “Steak, then.” Holly finished her pastry and sipped the last of her kasé. “We’ll get some and what else do we need? How’s it looking over there, Charly?” She didn’t want to obviously stare as well.

  For all a passerby might think, Charly was staring toward the picturesque hills that were beginning to fill with rice-farmers. Occasionally a quiet auto swept past, full of residents heading toward the middle of the Burroughs where the market and shops were.

  “No sign of anyone, yet. There are large trees just outside the fence that we could use to watch. They have good cover. One of us could climb a tree and use binoculars to see inside the house. Who knows—we could get lucky and see exactly what we came to discover.”

  “Maybe. If Odeon were here, he’d tell me to not be cynical. Say something about balance and focusing on what I want to happen rather than all the shit that could go wrong.”

  “The chap does have a tendency to encourage us all to stay hopeful.”

  Shiro reached over and gave her upper arm a squeeze.

  “We’ll get him back. Odeon’s a fighter and a survivor.” Charly turned and looked Holly square in the face “I say we snag some binoculars. Unless you brought some?”

  “Why would I bring that?”

  “I don’t know. You like to plan ahead.”

  “Add them to the list.” Holly shifted and glanced toward the mark’s home. They had a slight view over his fence from the rise they’d positioned themselves on.

  “Do you guys think the mark left early?”

  As though she’d summoned him, the doors to the house suddenly opened—it was a sliding door and three dogs came charging out, their tongues lolling out, wide, comical grins plastered over their mugs.

  He hopped into an auto parked in his paddock. The dogs all piled in with him, and he drove toward his gate, which opened slowly and let him through. Holly leaned back against the fence and pretended to be laughing. Shiro immediately began chatting with her about banal nonsense to add to their act.

  “He’s gone,” Charly said after a few minutes.

  “Here’s the plan,” Holly said. “Find some binoculars and take turns hiding in that tree, watching the house. We’ll get the rhythm here and plan to make our move tomorrow. I know it’s not ideal—normally we’d spend several days getting the timing of the activities at a house like this. But we don’t have days. Odeon needs us to move as fast as possible. And call me crazy, but this mark seems like a complete wimp. No security. No reason to think he’s going to be robbed.”

  * * *

  Holly took the first watch.

  And immediately wished she hadn’t.

  Her watch landed in the middle of the day, when the humidity was thickest and the temperatures hottest. She asked Charly to bring her water once and then found herself stripping layers off until she was sitting in the tree like a crazed primate, watching the estate of a rich, idiotic human who had nothing better to do with his life than own three dogs, collect vinyl, and repeatedly leave and return home over several hours.

  “This guy is nuts.” Holly lowered the binoculars as he returned home one more time. She marked the time, keeping track of his comings and goings.

  “Says the woman in a tree, watching him.” Charly laughed at her joke.

  “You should take that on the road, Charly,” Holly said. She glanced down at her attire. Or her lack thereof. Her trousers, jacket, tank, and socks were draped over a nearby branch. Her boots were stuffed into the crooks of several branches. “I hope no one can see me.”

  “I can, Ms. Drake. And might I say what a lovely sight it is?”

  “Brilliant, Shiro,” Holly said.

  He’d bought a set of binoculars too, saying that it would be wise for him and Charly to sit at the coffee shop where they’d gotten their breakfast and periodically check on her. That was before she’d removed most of her clothes, so she had no reason to suspect him of having made some grand plan to watch her strip down. “I hope you love my frizzed hair and the sweat pouring off my body.”

  “He does, Hols. I’m sitting here watching him watch you. It’s majorly uncomfortable.”

  “I’m happy to give you both equal attention, lasses. Feel free to do the same thing on your watch, Charly, and I’ll be an appreciative audience.”

  “I was made to handle humidity, Shiro. This isn’t a problem for me.”

  “We may need to split up anyway.”

  As the day progressed, they took turns on watching their mark’s home. He left and returned many times over the day—odd behavior. They didn’t have time to figure him out or put reason to his rhythms. What was his profession? He was a no-name, wealthy human who seemed to have retired from the rat-race and found some kind of meaning in living in the relaxed atmosphered of the tropical paradise.

  As dusk fell, the three of them sat at the outdoor coffee shop under the misters while the sky flared orange and pink and Ixion rose in the sky. It appeared larger on Jopp
a. Holly gasped as the gas giant rose.

  “What is it?” Shiro asked.

  She nodded at the planet. “Sometimes it can still surprise me.”

  Charly wasn’t impressed and kept her focus on their planning. “Seems like the best time is in the late morning. I mean, if these times are at all accurate from day to day. He’s not precisely a reliable person—for the most part this all seems random.”

  “Agreed, Charly. I think we take our chances that there will be some repetition in his schedule and simply assume he’ll follow this. If he doesn’t, we adapt. Plan for this window here—“ he gestured at a time slot on the v-screen “—and work with what actually happens. But let’s behave like this will happen. That he’ll follow this.”

  Shiro made a noise of assent. “Yes, let’s get the steak now and move tomorrow.”

  The plan would work. Or it wouldn’t, and they’d deal with whatever complications arose by winging it.

  20

  Later that evening, dusk gathered amidst the chirping noise of crickets and the kind of wildlife that inhabited swampy climates.

  This would be the biggest hack job ever.

  Holly felt bitter about that as she waited for the word to head in, but Odeon’s life was on the line. She considered their options hiding at the edge of the shadows beneath the trees near the compound. But there were none.

  The cost for Angelo to make a replica of the 3D galactic orrery was prohibitive. They needed this, despite how much she wanted to give in and just hand over exactly what Magna wanted, regardless of what that might mean for the future.

  Not buckling under that pressure required nerves of steel.

  And to sit within the dissatisfaction of doing a job half-assed.

  So a replica was the best answer. Even if it meant sitting outside the home of the idiot vinyl collector, waiting for him to leave, so they could break in and find the record that she hoped was within. Their view with binoculars from a tree outside his multi-house compound told her that he at least had a relic hi-fi system and shelves full of albums.