by Dan Moren
“Come now,” he said, shading his eyes with a hand as the sun caught him with a broadside. “If you really thought it was that stupid, would you even be here?”
M’basa sighed. “I didn’t say it was the stupidest.” She loosened her hair from the bun it had been piled into, combing her fingers through it before reworking it into the same shape. “Although it’d have been nice if you’d given me time for a shower. I’ve been up all night, you know.”
“So have we,” Tapper pointed out, from his spot leaning against the other side of the elevator, arms crossed.
“Hence the stupid idea. None of us are at the top of our game.”
Kovalic turned around, putting his own back to the city and eyeing the elevator’s display, which was counting up rapidly. The Corporation’s headquarters was by far the tallest building in Bergfestung, and since it was positioned roughly in the center of the city’s circular layout, it had the virtue of also sitting directly below the volcano’s opening, which afforded it room to reach a certain height. It also ensured that everybody else in the city had to look up to the Corporation.
“It’s not that stupid an idea,” Kovalic said. “The Corporation is in a position to provide us with information that the Imperium won’t. And the job of client relations, unless I’m misunderstanding at a fundamental level, is to deal with clients – which, in Corporation parlance, means foreign powers. Like you.” He nodded to M’basa.
She shook her head. “I’m still not sure why I’m going along with this.”
“Because,” said Kovalic, locking his gray eyes on her, “two Commonwealth citizens are missing after an attack in a Bayern city. And the Illyricans aren’t exactly taking our calls these days.”
M’basa raised her hands. “I know. I know. Sorry.”
The elevator slowed as it reached the building’s thirtieth floor and, with a chime, the doors slid open.
The room they stepped into gleamed, a vision in white marble. The incoming sunlight poured through floor-to-ceiling windows, which covered most of the “eastern” and “western” walls, tinging everything in a gold color that couldn’t help but bring to mind the pecuniary prowess for which the Corporation was known. Smooth, gilded columns rose in four places, supporting a domed roof inside of which was painted, to Kovalic’s surprise, a classical scene out of Greek mythology – Jason and the Golden Fleece, if he didn’t miss his guess.
A bit on the nose, that.
A woman with a pale golden complexion stepped in front of them, sporting a smile that Kovalic instinctively distrusted. “Deputy consul M’basa,” she began, her expression turning sympathetic, “I was sorry to hear about your citizens – thank you for calling me. Please, this way.” She gestured towards the opposite end of the floor from them, where a corridor led away from the sun-dappled lobby.
“Thank you, Director Wei,” said M’basa. “You remember Mr Tormundsen, I believe?”
“Of course.” She inclined her head gracefully.
“And this is my… associate, Mr Austen.”
The full brunt of her brown liquid eyes turned to Kovalic. “Mr Austen. A pleasure to meet you. I’m Amanda Wei, senior director of client relations.”
Kovalic nodded. “Nice to meet you. James Austen. Diplomatic liaison.” It was vague enough, but it wouldn’t stand up to even a cursory check of the embassy’s staff.
At a T intersection, Wei turned left, leading them to a number of small offices, each of which had their own spectacular view. “Have you identified your missing people, deputy consul?” Kovalic would have given even money that she already knew exactly who was involved, but, of course, appearances must be maintained.
M’basa glanced at Kovalic, then nodded. “Yes. That’s why Mr Tormundsen is here. I’m afraid that Mr Adler and Ms Mulroney were attending the party at the Illyrican embassy when the unfortunate event occurred. We haven’t heard from either of them since.”
“Oh dear,” said Wei, ushering them into a conference room with a long, oak table. She seated herself on one side, her back to the window; left with little other choice, they sat down opposite. “As the representative to the Commonwealth, I’ll help in any way I can, of course.”
“Glad to hear it,” Kovalic broke in, ignoring a glare from M’basa. “But the person I would really like to speak to is your boss. Zaina Vallejo?”
She smiled again, although Kovalic would have classified this one as more brittle than previous. “I’m afraid Senior Vice President Vallejo is a very busy woman. But I can check her schedule.”
“Please,” said Kovalic. “We’ll wait.” He leaned back in the admittedly sumptuous chair, feeling the leather squeak underneath him.
Wei tilted her head to one side, her eyes flicking back and forth rapidly, as if reviewing a screen that nobody else could see. Probably projective contact lenses or ocular implants, Kovalic noted. The kind of personal tech you could afford to develop when you’d avoided fighting in a costly space war.
“You are in luck,” she said suddenly, her eyes focusing back on them. “She happens to be in the office early this morning, and has a brief gap in her schedule. She’ll be up shortly.”
Kovalic raised his eyebrows. “Well, aren’t we lucky?”
“Vice President Vallejo values the Corporation’s relationships with foreign governments a great deal,” said Wei. “Maintaining them is not just her professional priority, but a personal one as well.”
“Sounds very diligent,” said Kovalic. “The senior vice president’s reputation proceeds her – I’ve heard she may take a run for one of the top jobs next time around?”
Wei smiled pleasantly again. “The Corporation doesn’t discuss its internal politics, Mr Austen.”
“In any case, I think it’s a bit premature,” said a pleasant baritone from the doorway. “Maybe in three or four years.”
Kovalic turned in his chair: The newcomer looked no less put-together than Wei, but something about her was immediately more personable. About Kovalic’s height, her bronzed skin and carefully groomed iron hair were handsome, no question, but it was the imperfections that gave her an air of friendliness: the slight wrinkles around her eyes and on her forehead, an errant hair out of place. She wore a white blouse, open at the throat, and a gray suit that murmured “expensive” in its carefully tailored subtlety.
“Pardon the interruption,” she said, with a genuine smile that showed a line of clean, white teeth, with a canine that crooked slightly in. “But I thought it best not to keep you waiting.”
Wei rose. “Senior Vice President Vallejo, these are deputy consul Sarah M’basa and Mr James Austen of the Commonwealth government, and Mr Tormundsen of Adler Industries.”
“Of course,” said Vallejo, taking each of their hands in turn for a brief shake. Her grip was warm and firm. “A pleasure to meet you all, though I wish it were under better circumstances.” She crossed the table and took a seat next to Wei, folding her hands. “The Corporation wishes to extend its full cooperation to the Commonwealth, as well as all other foreign powers affected by this terrible incident.”
“The Commonwealth appreciates that, madam vice president,” said M’basa. “Our top priority is to locate our missing citizens and bring them home.”
“Naturally,” said Vallejo. “The resources of the Corporation are at your disposal.”
“That’s excellent,” interjected Kovalic. “Knowing that, perhaps you could help me. I’ve been investigating the abduction, and I’ve run into a bit of a brick wall. I was hoping you might help?”
“If we can, certainly. What do you need?”
“We traced one of the vehicles used in the attack to a spaceport rental, but the ID itself was falsified. We were hoping to acquire video footage of the suspect picking up the vehicle.”
Vallejo glanced at Wei. “I don’t see why that should be a problem. The Corporation would be happy to request the footage on your behalf.”
“We also understand that Mr Adler and Ms Mulroney weren’t the
only people to be abducted in the attack – and that, in fact, they may have merely been collateral damage of the primary target.”
With an apologetic smile, Vallejo shook her head. “I’m happy to provide all assistance, Mr Austen, but you should understand that I can’t divulge the security situation of other clients. You’ll have to approach the relevant parties yourself.”
Kovalic waited, tapping his fingers on the table, before speaking again. “Even if the person in question was here for high-level talks with a member of the Corporation?”
Someone nudged his knee under the table, and out of his peripheral vision he could see M’basa glaring at him.
He’d expected Vallejo’s smile to freeze on her face or for the woman to show some sign of recognition, but the intersection of her political and corporate training was just too good. “Especially if that were the case.”
“So, even though that information may help us track down the people who took our citizens – and the citizens of other foreign governments – you won’t share it because it might jeopardize whatever deal you were going to discuss with the Imperium?”
M’basa kicked his shin, hard, under the table; he could feel her eyes cutting deep into the side of his head.
“Excuse my colleague, senior vice president,” she stepped in smoothly. “He is, of course, concerned about Mr Adler and Ms Mulroney.”
“No offense taken,” said Vallejo. “I understand completely. But I’m afraid I still can’t help you – that information is not mine to give.” She glanced at her sleeve and rose, nodding to them. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a previous engagement. I’ll see that someone is in touch with the spaceport footage, and I hope that it will help you with your investigation. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything else.” Vallejo disappeared down the hall.
Tapper gave a loud snort that was studiously ignored by everyone present. Kovalic suppressed a smile – the sergeant wasn’t one to mince words or snorts.
On the other side of the table, Wei rose smoothly. “I’ll ensure that any relevant footage from the spaceport makes its way to deputy consul M’basa as soon as possible. Please, follow me.”
Wei led them back into the hall and towards the elevator. Kovalic fell into step with her. “Please convey my apologies to the senior vice president for my outburst. As deputy consul M’basa said, I’m concerned for the safety of our citizens.”
Wei ducked her head. “Of course, Mr Austen. I understand completely.”
“I’m sure you’re glad that the senior vice president wasn’t caught up in this whole mess,” said Kovalic carefully. “I assume she was at the embassy party?”
“She was scheduled to be, but was unavoidably detained by a shareholder meeting that ran long. Fortunately, as it turned out.”
“Ah,” said Kovalic, offering a smile as they reached the elevator. “That is fortunate indeed.”
The elevator doors slid open at Wei’s touch, and she bid them farewell. As the lift descended, M’basa was on her comm, talking to one of the techs back at the embassy.
Tapper slid over to him. “What do you think?”
Kovalic scratched his chin. “I think you were right about us being blinded by the crown – somebody really didn’t want the Imperium’s envoy meeting with Vallejo.”
At the ground floor, they stepped through the lobby and out into the street. No sooner had they left then Kovalic’s own wrist buzzed. He glanced at his sleeve; the caller identification was listed as ‘private’ but he tapped his earbud anyway. “Yeah?”
“Simon? Harry.”
“Any movement?”
“Only bad. You probably haven’t had the pleasure of meeting my resident colleague here, have you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Well, he’s a bit of an up-and-comer, and he took it upon himself to phone home immediately after the dust cleared on last night’s incident.”
Kovalic’s stomach sank into his shoes. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning that the timeline is a lot smaller than we thought. We’ve got about four hours before reinforcements arrive. Just thought you should know.”
“Thanks.” Kovalic disconnected as the Commonwealth embassy’s hovercar pulled around to the front of the building, joining a queue of similar-looking cars there, each depositing its high-level Corporation employees. Kovalic glanced up at the volcano opening, high above them; it was still early, but the Corporation hadn’t gotten where it was by keeping banker’s hours.
With his gaze firmly upwards, he didn’t see the man who collided with him, only got the impression of a tall, thin man staring intently at his sleeve and heard the mumbled excuses as the man swerved around him and continued his hurried way towards the Corporation headquarters entrance. Kovalic frowned, looking over his shoulder, but the man had already melted into the crowd.
He strode over to Tapper and M’basa, who were getting into the Commonwealth car, and absently patted down his pockets. In other circumstances, that collision would have been pickpocketing 101, however his belongings were all accounted for. But, as his hand brushed his jacket, he felt something small and square in the pocket that hadn’t been there before.
“What was that call about?” asked Tapper as soon as the car’s internal security systems were activated.
“Nothing good,” said Kovalic. “It seems IIS’s Bayern station chief reported the prince’s disappearance right after he was taken last night. Which means that instead of the twenty-six hours Frayn was going to buy us, we have about four before an Illyrican fleet is in orbit and looking for some answers. And they are not going to be as delicate about it as we are.” He ran his thumb over the familiar shape in his pocket – a data chip. Whatever it was, he hoped to hell something was about to go their way.
Chapter 20
The creak of the heavy metal door opening snapped Eli instantly from his fitful dozing. It was dark in the room, and the rectangle of light from the hallway blinded his unadjusted eyes. He blinked back the tears welling up there, enough to make out a blurry pair of figures. The bigger of the two tossed in the smaller like it was a rag doll, and then the door slammed closed again.
Eli’s head spun as he tried to reassemble the details of his situation in his mind, like pouncing on scraps of shredded paper blowing away in the wind: Bayern. The embassy. The prince. Erich von Denffer. The kidnapping. Erich von bloody Denffer again.
“Erich?” he tried. “That you?”
“Eli?” Even throaty and congested, the voice was decidedly feminine.
“Tayl–” he choked back the name, cursing himself. If man had been meant to keep secrets, God should not have given him a tongue.
He heard a rasp that sounded like Taylor dragging herself across the floor, and he crawled to the end of the bed. It was pitch black in the room: no windows, and not so much as a line of light peeking under the door. He waved around with his hand until he contacted something that felt like a shoulder and patted it, as if reassuring himself that it was real.
“Christ,” he said, letting out a breath. “You’re a sight for sore, uh… hands.”
“Glad to be here,” she said, her voice wry. “Not sure how you managed it, but well done.”
Eli flushed slightly at the compliment, suddenly glad the room was dark. There’s a long way to go before we’re out of the woods.
“You OK?” she asked, her hand reaching up to touch his. “They hurt you?”
He shook his head instinctively, then realized the inutility of that in the dark. “No, I’m fine. Mainly asked a bunch of questions. You?”
“I’ve been better, but nothing that won’t heal.”
“The prince?”
“Haven’t seen him. They separated us right after the embassy, threw a hood over my head, and then tossed me into a room not unlike this one.”
“I insisted on an upgrade to a suite, but they weren’t having it.”
She gave something that might have been mistaken for a hollow la
ugh. “So, how’d you convince them to put me in here?”
“I just told them I was worried about you, and that I didn’t care what happened to the prince. Apparently that satisfied them – at least for now.”
“You realize they’re still probably going to kill us, right?”
“Yeah, I think that’s why they felt some pity for poor old me. Maybe they wanted to make sure he felt the touch of a woman before he met his end.”
This time, she did laugh, and a hand snaked up and patted him on the cheek. “You’re cute, Eli, but I can assure you that this is the only touch you’ll be getting from this particular woman.”
Eli grinned, mostly in relief. “That’s good, because I can think of at least one man whose wrath worries me way more than those guys out there.”
There was another rustling from the floor, and Taylor pulled back her hand. Her voice had dropped to a murmur. “Now, if I can just get this out…”
“Get what out?”
“Well, our friends out there didn’t really bother doing a thorough search – some sort of misplaced sense of chivalry, if you can believe it.”
“Please tell me you have a full set of lockpicks.”
“In my other shoes, sorry. What I do have is this.” He felt something small but heavy placed in his hand. It was surprisingly warm – he guessed it must have been pushed up against her skin – but as he traced the shape, he felt a nick at his finger. A knife. Well, that will be handy.
“Anything else? A pocket battleship, maybe?”
“No such luck there, but they also didn’t look closely enough to take my earbud. Which would be handy if it weren’t for the fact that it only works at close range.”
“How close?”
“Max range is a kilometer, but it gets a bit shaky on the upward half of that.”
“So we’re going to have to get really, really lucky.”
“Well, our luck can’t get much worse – maybe we’ve hit the upswing.”
Eli gave a hollow laugh. “Not bloody likely.” He sighed and fumbled the knife back to Taylor; he assumed it would be far better off in her hands than his own, unless of course the goal was for him to stab himself. “You didn’t see the prince, so we don’t know where he is – not that I feel any particular obligation to drag him out of here.”
