Perilous Waif (Alice Long Book 1)

by E. William Brown

  It was still early evening, and the district was bustling with pedestrians. Late shoppers, early club-goers and curious tourists mingled in the streets, most of which didn’t allow vehicles. The taxi dropped us off a couple of blocks from our destination, and from there we had to walk.

  The crowds here were different than on Zanfeld. The spacers moved in pairs, or more often groups, and kept a sharper eye on their surroundings. A lot of them wore light armor, and carried much heavier weapons than my little pistol. Some of them looked so nervous I was sure it must be their first time on Taragi, and they were all really polite to each other.

  The natives were easy to pick out, because they were a lot more relaxed. Still alert, but they knew the rules here and they were used to living with them. To them this was just another normal day.

  I tried to copy them, and used our private datalink to pass Emla hints about how to act. I’m not sure how well it worked, though. There were so many interesting sights that it was hard not to gawk. Exotic visitors from distant ports, and odd stores selling all kinds of strange things.

  Right next to Imriel’s Imports there was a shop that sold colorful little transforming robots, and a whole group of them posed and wrestled each other in the window display. The biggest ones were the size of Ash, but there were some so tiny they could have stood on the tip of my finger. It seemed like each one was different, and they were all based on something. Fictional giant robots from ancient vidshows, or real ones from sports like Mechbattlers or Big Iron.

  I made a note to look up those shows when I had the chance, and reluctantly passed it by to check out Imriel’s instead. Unfortunately that turned out to be a disappointment. At first glance it looked like a store full of traditional Japanese cultural artifacts, but it was obvious to me that it was all cheap junk. Hundreds of square meters of shelf space crammed full of generic tea, random snack foods, ‘handcrafted’ curios that had obviously come out of a bulk fabricator, and ‘lacquered wood’ utensils that weren’t even made of real wood. Ugh. Did people really fall for that?

  “I can’t tell the difference, Alice,” Emla commented as I pulled her out of the store. “Does it really matter if the wood is real or not?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “The whole point of this snooty cultural stuff is showing people that you can tell when something is authentic,” I told her. “Besides, I’m not talking about quick-grown synthetic wood like you’d get from a biofab. You’re right, that stuff’s actually better than hand-crafted hardwood on any practical level. But most of the stuff in there is just low-grade structural matter with different color patterns printed on the surface. It isn’t going to handle like the real thing, and it’ll all fall apart after a few weeks of use.”

  “Oh. I guess that wouldn’t impress him much, huh?”

  “He’d probably have me executed for the insult. Come on, maybe we’ll have better luck at Timeless Traditions.”

  We didn’t.

  It took me a couple of hours to realize that most of the shops in the Middle Tier were tourist traps. I guess the fact that so many of them specialized in stuff like subtle murder weapons, mind control devices and illegal spy gear threw off my expectations. But after the third shop turned out to be worthless I spent a few minutes poking my head into the other shops along the street, and found more of the same.

  Great. From their datanet sites it looked like the Upper Tier shops were all very traditional Masu-kai places, so they weren’t going to have the kind of thing I was looking for. The High Tier was reserved for rich customers with special passes, so that left me with the Lower Tier.

  Where the really nasty stuff was supposed to be.

  “Do we really need to do this?” Emla asked quietly as I led her into an elevator.

  “Yes. I have to make a good impression here, Emla.”

  She sighed. “Alright. But if we end up captured by slavers I reserve the right to say I told you so.”

  “If we get captured by slavers we’ll be too busy escaping for complaints. We’ll be fine, Emla. Just act natural, and keep your eyes open.”

  The elevator doors opened, and a bunch of huge guys trooped in. They were all well over two hundred cems, with bulging muscles and green skin. Orcs?

  A powerful, musky scent filled the elevator, but I was too distracted to pay much attention to the sudden warnings from my nanowarfare suite. There was a skull dangling from a wide leather belt right in front of my face. A real human skull, that had belonged to someone who only died a few weeks ago.

  The pistol hanging next to it was a giant 16mm model that would probably blow holes in a breaching bot, and the guy had an axe that weighed more than I did strapped to his back. My sensors picked up synthetic muscles, diamondoid bones, layers of subdermal armor and a massive nuke pack hidden deep inside that barrel chest. Crude stuff, sure, but massively powerful.

  The orc grinned down at me. “Hey, little girl. You like my trophy, or you just checking out the merchandise?”

  I squashed the terrified squeak that wanted to come out. Don’t show weakness, Alice. Being afraid is just asking for something bad to happen.

  “I’ve never seen anyone pull off wearing a real skull like that,” I managed. “I think it’s the axe that makes it work.”

  One of the other orcs groaned. “Aw, shit. Don’t get him started on the damned axe.”

  Skull Guy puffed out his chest. “Toldja, Thag. Chicks dig the axe. They see this shit, they come running for kloms.”

  Thag just snorted. “Yeah, Garkin, cuz they wanna see what kinda dumbass hauls around a melee weapon on a fuckin’ spaceship.”

  “You never know when a problem might get up close and personal. ‘Sides, you seen it work.”

  “You make this shit too complicated, Garkin,” another orc complained. “Doing all this babe magnet crap like some lame-ass human. You wanna slip some chick the big green D, you just gotta show her what she’s gettin’. Like this.”

  His hand went to the front of his leather pants. The other orcs all groaned, but no one stopped him from turning my way and whipping out…

  Good Gaia, that thing was huge.

  “Eeeewwww! Gross!” Emla exclaimed.

  I boosted to fast time, and spent a really embarrassing couple of milliseconds getting my expression back under control. Gaia, there was enough biowarfare stuff in the air now to fry a normal person’s brain. Eight different drugs and a whole bunch of nanotech, all of it trying to make me react the same way. I was supposed to just kind of melt into a whimpering puddle, wasn’t I?

  You’re checking it out, Emla commed.

  Hey, I’ve never seen one before. Goodness, it’s as big as my arm.

  Yeah, and he’s waving it right in your face. What are we going to do, Alice? I don’t know if we can fight these guys. They’ve got so much armor I can’t tell if our guns will penetrate it, and their spaceproofing might be good enough to stop Ash’s tricks.

  Considering that Ash was sitting on my shoulder just a few cems from the guy’s junk, having him take a bite out of it would probably be pretty darned effective. But Captain Sokol had warned me to stay out of trouble if I could possibly avoid it, and he usually knew what he was talking about.

  I’m worried too, I admitted. But maybe we don’t have to fight them. Let me try something.

  I dropped into normal time, and did my best teenage eyeroll.

  “Put that thing away before you accidentally brain someone with it,” I said. “Honestly, you must be pretty hard up if you’re hitting on little kids.”

  There was a moment of stunned silence. Then they all started laughing.

  “She’s got you there, Wugh. Now put that shit away. You get yourself mobbed by hookers, you’re payin’ for’em.”

  Wugh stuffed his thing back in his pants with a grumble, and threw a confused look my way.

  “Da fuck are you, bitch?” He muttered. “Some kinda full body job, or just a fake?”

  “Milspec everything, plus you’re a year
too early for me,” I said casually.

  The doors opened, and they all started filing out of the elevator. Garkin grinned down at me.

  “You’re pretty stout for a little girl, Alice. That age header for real, or are you some kinda secret Masu-kai ninja supersoldier?”

  “Who, me? I’m just a little girl out running some errands, honest.” I blinked up at him innocently.

  “Yeah, suuure you are. What kinda errand takes a couple of kids to the Lower Tier at night, anyway?”

  “I’m getting ready for a meeting with one of the Masu-kai bosses tomorrow,” I told him. “I can’t say any more, because I’m supposed to kill people who know too much and I don’t have any nukes on me. You?”

  “Aw, we’re just checkin’ out the auctions at Foka’s. Word is he’s got some good shit up on the block tonight.”

  He nodded to the plaza right across from the elevator bank, where a crowd was gathered around a raised dais. A group of terrified-looking women were lined up there, wearing nothing but the collars on their necks and the shackles that held their wrists behind their backs. The auctioneer was taking bids, while a big virtual billboard hovered above the crowd announcing the night’s upcoming auctions. Passengers kidnapped from a liner in the Corporate Worlds cluster, including some managers. Prisoners of war from a battle on some colony I didn’t recognize. Experimental androids stolen from a secret lab in Greater Victoria, and the former leaders of a fallen pirate clan.

  I wasn’t sure which of them was supposed to be the ‘good shit’, but I couldn’t really bring myself to care. The sign that read ‘authentic human prisoners - untouched and unbroken’ held my attention for a moment, before my eyes went to the asking prices. The bidding started at five thousand just for those poor maids who were on the block now, and it went way up from there. Thirty thousand credits for a corporate middle manager. Sixty for the deposed pirate boss, and eighty apiece for his son and daughters.

  Once again, I had to use fast time to control my expression. But I didn’t let anything show.

  “Huh. Well, good luck with your shopping,” I said.

  “You too, ninja girl,” he said easily. “Or good hunting, if that was just a cover story. Be seein’ you.”

  I watched them go, and turned in the opposite direction.

  Let’s get this done, Emla, I said silently. I want to get back to the palace, and take a bath.

  I’d rather nuke this place into radioactive dust, she replied. But I guess a bath will have to do.

  Chapter 23

  The residence wing of the palace looked a lot like the rest of the complex, only with even more security. The obvious part was the horde of inugami in crisp uniforms, standing at checkpoints and patrolling the halls in pairs. But there were a lot of other measures a normal person wouldn’t have seen. Hidden rooms full of warbots, ready to pour out and deal with troublemakers. Concealed weapon emplacements in the walls and ceilings, and traps in the corridors. Sensors everywhere, and not just passive ones. They had active sonar and manipulator field sensors, swarms of microbots drifting through the air and even patrols of little insect-sized bots searching for intruders of their own size.

  Even the servants didn’t seem to be normal. Most of them were meek-looking human women, who smoothly stepped aside and bowed as we passed. But they all seemed suspiciously athletic to me, with subtle sensor baffling that made it hard to be sure what mods they had. The traditional maid uniforms they wore would be easy to fight in, and offered plenty of ways to hide small weapons or tools.

  Not that I was going to be fighting anyone in a formal kimono, anyway. The skirt came down almost to my ankles, and it was tight enough that I had to take small steps. It was silk, too, and while the butterfly pattern I’d chosen might be pretty the outfit was worthless as armor. Emla was better off in that respect, since her skinsuit was designed to double as both a uniform and light combat armor. But I had no illusions that her pistol and smoke dispensers would be enough to handle the kind of trouble we could run into here.

  I had to keep this friendly, no matter what.

  Our guide led us to an antechamber that looked like a lounge, where eight inugami waited for their master. Only one of them stood by the door, while the others were spread about the couches and overstuffed chairs that filled the room. Just what I’d expected, and Emla took up her position in the empty spot by the door smoothly.

  Little touches like that were important, if I was going to pull this off.

  My eyes met hers for a moment as I passed, and I sent her a burst of encouragement. The garden was sealed against all forms of communication, so we’d be separated for as long as I was in there. I knew that would be hard for her, but she replied with a wordless burst of confident determination.

  Good. The other guards would probably push her some, to see if they could get her to show weakness or do something ‘inappropriate’. But I’d briefed her pretty well, and compiled the results of my research on Masu-kai etiquette into a skill pack for her so she wouldn’t forget anything. She’d be fine. Now I just had to hold up my end of things.

  I’d feel more confident about that if I didn’t keep surprising myself. I hadn’t even known I could make skill packs until the need had come up. I hadn’t known I had a personal livery, either. But when Azalea had asked about the color scheme and insignia for Emla’s snazzy new uniform, somehow I’d known exactly what I wanted. Black uniform, silver trim, with little draconic skulls on the lapels and a geometric splash of red on the right shoulder that sort of reminded me of a flower. Very military, and she looked really sharp in it.

  There was probably a clue about my origins in there, but a datanet search had turned up more than half a million matches. Supposedly there was some famous Old Earth army that had dressed sort of like that back in the 20th century, and lots of people imitated the look. I’d have to sort through them sometime when I didn’t have my hands full with more urgent problems.

  The entrance to the Hungry Garden was a long hallway with sliding doors every couple of meters, which automatically opened as I got close and slid shut again behind me. Each of them was made of armor a couple of cems thick, and the whole hall had sensors like a security checkpoint. But the main purpose of the setup was probably decontamination. The air was swarming with microbots, and so was every exposed surface. I was pretty sure they were all working together with the air purifiers in the walls to keep any stray nanotech or bioweapons from being tracked out of the garden.

  I stepped through the last door into the bright yellow light of a G2 star, a perfect imitation of mankind’s lost home.

  The garden was huge. Easily a couple of hectares, all of it covered with artful arrangements of exotic plants. Little wooden walkways snaked through the greenery, elevated a few inches above the soil and kept immaculately clean. Here and there I saw bridges arching over narrow brooks, and pools filled with brightly colored fish. Overhead was an amazingly convincing illusion of a clear blue sky, with a few tufts of white cloud here and there.

  “Welcome to the Garden of Repose, Honored Guest. Lord Akio awaits you at the Delicate Spring Pavilion. Shall I lead the way?”

  “Yes, please.”

  It was a good thing Freesia had warned me about the servants here, or I would have stared. The maid who’d greeted me had by far the most extreme morph job I’d ever seen. She was a naga, with the body of a giant snake from the waist down. A really big snake. She had six arms, too, and a forked tongue in a mouth full of serrated teeth that reminded me of a shark.

  She and the rest of her tribe were part of the garden. They lived in here, tending the plants and catering to visitors, but they were as much a trap as the rest of it. Everything about them was dangerous, from their poisoned fangs and claws to the long lines of retractable spikes that extended along their snake half. Their predatory instincts were overwhelmingly powerful, and keyed into the garden’s IFF system just like all the plants. To the Hoshida family they were as loyal as puppies, but any intruder who lost t
heir scent badge would be attacked in an instant.

  Freesia had confided that the first of the naga were survivors from some group of rivals that Lord Hoshida had wanted to make an example of. But that was decades ago, and they’d been brainwashed and rebuilt so extensively even they didn’t remember the details anymore. The younger ones had been born here in the garden. Or maybe hatched. I wasn’t sure how that worked for them, and I certainly wasn’t going to ask.

  I followed my guide through a maze of plants whose names I didn’t know. Some of them might not even have names, if this was the only place they existed. A lot of the flowers seemed perfectly harmless, although I was sure they’d turn out to be poisonous or hypnotic or something if I put it to the test. Other hazards were easier to spot. Trees with limbs that could animate, and creeper vines that would drop off of overhead branches to entangle me. Grass that could cut like a vibroblade, or secrete corrosive chemicals. Bushes that could launch volleys of sharp thorns, or acted as nests for swarms of flying insects.

  Underlying the perfume of the flowers was a faint hint of other things. A few stray molecules of exotic poisons and airborne drugs, and dozens of kinds of ‘pollen’ that was actually made of micromachines loaded up with nanotech threats. The scents were interesting, though. There was a rich blend of aromatic chemicals too subtle for a human nose to pick out, that constantly varied like some kind of invisible music. My badge generated its own signature too. Not a simple echo or challenge-response scheme, but something more complicated. There was a give and take to it that reminded me of dancing with Kavin.

  I wasn’t about to mess with that, but it made an interesting accompaniment to the tour of the garden that my guide was giving me. She had her own scent signature, and so did each of the plants, but they were all different. Idly, I worked at cataloguing the whole symphony as I walked.