by J. N. Chaney
The moment lasted until we stepped out onto the platform and we realized it would be a challenge to get back up.
“Leon, we need help,” Marcella said over the comms.
He didn’t answer.
She looked at me, unsure what to do next.
“Maybe the interference in there trashed the comms,” I speculated. “You’re going to have to go up and get Leon. We’ll be okay for a few minutes.”
Now that the adrenaline of escaping had worn off, the pain and exhaustion set in and I leaned heavily against the platform. Dorian said nothing and I wondered if he feared the blindness would be permanent.
I wanted to say something to offer comfort but before I could, a makeshift harness came down. “Your ride is here. Leon sent a harness down,” I told Dorian, trying to make a joke, but he barely cracked a smile.
I helped him into it and made sure everything was secure for his trip up, then stood back a little. “All set!” I yelled.
The rope went taut and I could tell it startled the Constable because he jerked a little and pressed into the rock. After a few minutes, I thought I heard scuffling and someone talking but it sounded muffled. My ears were still ringing from the hit my head had taken and I couldn’t make out anything.
“I can’t hear you,” I called out. “I’m ready if you drop the harness again.”
The harness came down again and I struggled into it. “Okay, I’m in. Pull me up!” The line pulled tight and I lost my balance, almost hitting my injured leg against the wall. I used my good leg to push off and take some of the weight off Leon, who had to be tired from pulling Dorian up.
Finally, an exhausting five minutes later, I made it to the top. Strong hands pulled me over the ledge, and I lay there for a few seconds to catch my breath. Feeling a little better, I sat up and looked to see if Dorian had made it inside the MikroTrek yet.
It was gone.
In its place, a ship whose hull read Thorn’s Poesy sat with its thrusters primed and a large group of hard looking men. Sporting a wicked grin, Evelyn stood in the open hatch flanked by armed guards. She was wearing her thick red hair pinned along the top and heavy at the sides.
Dorian sat on the ground with his hands behind his back, looking around wildly. “Leon!” he shouted. “Need some help. Alphonse, what’s going on?”
Evelyn sauntered forward to stand in front of me, then curled her lip derisively. She raised her hand and guns were leveled at us from the ship and the rim above.
“Thanks for doing all the work, old friend. I have to admit, my plans never did go as smoothly without you.”
I bristled with anger but said nothing. I needed time to work out a plan.
She turned on her heel and walked up to Marcella. I surged to my feet when she slapped the other woman. Fighting through the pain, I moved a step forward, only to tumble to the side and fall back to the ground.
“Oh, Alphonse. This is just like the last time I spoke to you. Lying on the ground without a clue what’s happening,” Evelyn jeered. She backhanded Marcella again and tried to pry the artifact from her grasp.
Marcella held tight, screaming. “This belongs to my father! You can’t have it. This is his discovery! You can’t have it!”
Evelyn rolled her eyes and nodded at one of her men. “Take care of this,” she ordered.
Flanked by another merc, he moved to Marcella and jabbed her with a hypo injector. They caught her when she slumped forward, and Evelyn lifted the artifact from her limp hands before it fell. The two men dragged Marcella onto the ship and out of sight.
Dorian had his gun drawn and was gesturing left and right, trying to sense an opening. “Just tell me when I’m in the right direction, Al.”
This elicited laughter from Evelyn. You two think you were going to trap me? Me!? I’ve been playing you since the beginning. You’re not here to capture me. I’m here to use you. Just like last time.”
That last remark she directed at me.
“You manipulate and use people. You think it gives you control, but it just leaves you vulnerable and alone. Nobody you can trust. Nobody that you can rely on. You even used your own brother,” I spat. “How long until these men see through you?”
She kicked me in the gut. “Loyalty is a fiction, Alphonse. I thought you would’ve learned that by now. I should kill you, but then you won’t see what I’ve planned for you.”
She gestured and two of her men shackled me and Dorian together. I did my best to stay conscious, but the pain in my skull was intense, and the added blow to the gut had me struggling to breathe and keep my stomach from emptying without my permission.
“Put them under, I don’t want to take any chances,” she barked.
When the hatch closed and Thorn’s Poesy shot into the sky, I’d already started feeling the effects of the sedative. Evelyn’s ship burned thrusters, taking her, along with Marcella, out of sight. Then I couldn’t fight it any longer and the drug pulled me under.
19
I woke up to a slim, smart-dressed man standing at my bedside. He gave a slight nod at seeing me conscious. “Clothing is here.” He pointed to a pile of clothes on a side table. “Be dressed and ready for your meeting promptly.” Without another word, his duty apparently done, the man turned on a heel and was out the door.
Alone, I took stock of my situation and found I hadn’t been restrained in any way. The various monitoring equipment didn’t appear to be in use, but from the hospital like surroundings, I assumed they had been.
I got up, tested my leg, found it to be functional, then put on the simple combination of white shirt and black slacks and left the small room. No shoes had been provided, so I left the room with bare feet.
Outside, the same man waited with an air of eternal patience and constant anxiousness. Dorian emerged from the next door down, dressed as I was. The bandages were gone from his eyes and I could see they looked to be in much better shape than when we’d exited the vault. They were rimmed with red and he squinted a little as if the light bothered him, but he was walking on his own. The Constable stopped as the door closed and turned his head in my direction. “My coat.”
The smart-dressed man shifted his head ever so slightly, listening to his own earpiece. After a moment, he snapped his fingers then a doctor pulled Dorian’s coat from a wardrobe and handed it to him.
Dorian smirked. “Al, I think we’re about to have some pleasant surprises.”
I wasn’t about to make a guess where our luck was heading. “I’d prefer no more surprises. You mentioned a meeting? Please, lead the way.”
The smart-dressed man nodded airily. “Very good, sirs. Follow me.” Once again, he turned on a heel and quickly went through the door.
From the size and opulence of the building, I began to have a sneaking suspicion of who our meeting would be with.
We followed him to a lift and waited while he waved a hand over the panel and pushed a button. No guards accompanied us, and the lift opened a short distance later. It made sense that the hidden floors would be in proximity. Likely not even entire floors, just a section of the flooring that could only be accessed through the specific lift. Like the stealth hangar above, the floors hid in plain sight.
The lift opened and the unnamed escort was out the door before it even finished cycling. He led the way down a grand hallway with walls covered in art. The collection was impressive, stretching from ancient pieces to modern ones and including several installations of artifacts and “lost” technology.
Our guide waited patiently at the end of the hall and tapped rapidly on a datapad affixed to the side of a door. Once we had entered, the door slid silently closed behind us.
We were in a relatively small office. A man with tall, feathered hair and a boyish smile stood from his seat as we entered. He was young, not as young as me, but clearly only in his late twenties or early thirties. It was Velio. He looked exactly like the picture we had on file, if a little more refined.
He gestured us each to a seat
by name. “Alphonse. Dorian.”
We sat, then Velio took his own seat in a large chair, twice the size of ours and positioned higher. He stared thoughtfully at us from across his black onyx desk, polished to a mirror shine and unadorned with any trinkets or devices.
I fixed him with a firm look, summoning an intensity into my voice. “Ferris Velio. Self-proclaimed entrepreneur and de facto leader of Celtan and Din. What can we do for you?”
He steepled his fingers together and let out a sigh. “She certainly didn’t speak highly enough of you. One of several reasons I’m turning to you for help.”
Dorian cut in. “Are you speaking of Evelyn or Marcella?”
The bite in his voice when he said Marcella’s name gave me pause and I glanced at him. Hostility showed unchecked across his features and I wondered if it was all directed at Evelyn.
Velio grinned. “Evelyn, of course. And don’t worry—your ship and your friend, the fighter, are safe, as planned.”
I looked to Dorian to fill me in.
“All part of the plan, kid. Compartmentalize so the operation can’t be completely broken down by a spy.”
The term “spy” hit me in the chest. “You mean Marcella?” I realized he hadn’t seen Marcella get dragged onto the ship and now thought her a traitor.
Velio leaned forward in his chair. “I’ve seen her before. Watched her work her way from one den of vice to another across this city. She’s good, but she’s certainly not someone’s long-lost daughter.” He paused and then laughed. “Actually, that’s probably exactly what she is, just not of the person you met.”
Dorian continued his explanation. “I was worried she was working you from the moment you saw her at The Prime Lady. And I was right. Everything that came after has been a ruse.”
I was about to protest when the scene with Lacroan came to mind. His emotionless reaction to seeing his long-lost daughter. Her overzealous one. The inconsistent story about her missing father and the wild goose chase. The puzzle pieces fell into place one by one and I realized what a fool I’d been.
“You’re right,” I finally agreed. “She’s clearly working for Evelyn, but you are both wrong about her past. She is Lacroan’s daughter. And he has a plan. I have a plan.”
Velio stood up and came around the desk, leaning into my face. “You are awfully certain of yourself for a kid showing his cards to an expert gambler.”
I met his gaze without hesitation. “I am certain. I know who you are. I know who you want to be. You fancy yourself a rogue hero out here. The bringer of civilization and civility to a wild land. Yet you profit by taking the work of others and selling them a company store. Your type has come and gone many times.”
Velio raised a hand and then lowered it. He gave a chuckle as he circled back to his seat. “You see it all, don’t you, boy? Did you see the part where Evelyn expects me to have you trussed up and used as target practice as a demonstration for the other buyers?”
I maintained my even gaze. “You started working with Evelyn because she brought in money. You hid her here, on the fringe of the Deadlands, because it worked for you. She probably thinks she has you manipulated and in her pocket. But she failed to see that you buy in to your own persona. You actually do, in your own way, believe you are helping these people.”
Dorian stood up. “We don’t have time for this. We have a deal. You keep Evelyn’s assets when we grab her. We take the neutronium and you pocket any credits on the line.”
Velio laughed again. “You think of me as a criminal informant, an asset that you will take in eventually. I’m not. I’m a government. I’m a planet. I’m a signature away from turning this world into a Union territory. A little watchtower on the very edge of Sarkonian space. You’ll play nice and I’ll get what I want.”
I stood up. “Everything in place for the buy?”
Velio nodded. “The room is prepped, and the gear is in place. I’ve locked down the hangar. As long as your part of the plan works, we’ve only got the one problem left to confront.”
Dorian shook his head, removing the visor and blinking in the burst of light. “You changing the deal?”
Velio held his hands up in a mock surrender. “No, no. The deal stands. Problem is, I don’t know which of my men are loyal to me and which have bought in to Evelyn’s charms. I can’t guarantee that when you walk into that room tomorrow you won’t be outnumbered.”
His gaze flicked to me, then back to Dorian. Velio tried for an apologetic expression but his lips twitched as though he wanted to smile. It wasn’t difficult to surmise what he wanted.
“Don’t play coy, Velio. Give me a one-way and bring them all in for a chat. I’ll have them sorted before nightfall.”
Velio stood up and whistled. He looked to Dorian and then back to me. “Are you really that good?”
I sighed and picked up my earpiece. “Yes, I am.”
20
It had been a hard road, this case. Out-working Evelyn was a trial by fire and beyond. She held many cards and trusted no one. This made getting to her difficult, but not impossible. The very strength she used—manipulating and surrounding herself with disposable shields—left her vulnerable to the unrelenting force of truth. She could only manipulate as long as the artifice maintained.
I was going to put an end to her schemes and ensure she paid dearly for her actions. For Remi, for Winston, for the principles of truth.
Dorian saw my stern expression as I pumped myself up. “It’s going to work, Malloy. You put it all in place. Trust your instincts, your training, and your allies.”
I nodded. “That last part is key, isn’t it?”
We were, after all, strapped to targets at the end of a line. Tables were arranged in front of us for the buyers and a stage was set at the far end, away from us. We were to be the final demonstration of Evelyn’s power diffusion device.
The room was illuminated with low lighting that cast long shadows and added a certain ethereal feel to our final preparation before the big event. Soon the equipment would be loaded onto the stage and Velio’s men would bring in the buyers. It was a shame I didn’t get to see Evelyn’s face when Velio brought her the list of men he would recommend as the demonstrators and which ones would be the guards.
I had selected the personnel for each list, placing those loyal to Velio as buyer security and those in Evelyn’s pocket as the demonstrators.
The stage lights kicked on and technicians started bringing in the archaic mess of equipment that Evelyn would use to show past failures to power artifact weapons. The neutronium, inside the diffusion pod itself, would come in later. Evelyn wouldn’t trust anyone to keep her ultimate prize out of her sight.
Even now, as the final stages were underway for our demise, Leon, along with Velio’s majordomo, whose name I’d finally learned was Wridel, were securing the hostages Evelyn had stashed for leverage.
Workers with downcast eyes came in next. They set the tables with food and drinks to further loosen up the buyers and give the impression of an upscale black-market deal. They walked slowly, refusing to look toward me and Dorian. Their presence reminded me that Velio was not a good man, despite his posturing. I looked to Dorian for some acknowledgement of the fact.
He nodded, but it was hard to read his expression now that he had bandages across his face. He had to maintain the illusion of being blinded to keep that leverage on our side. I felt the trickle of fake blood from my ear from the head fracture that, as far as Evelyn was concerned, had me disoriented and non-threatening.
Being a Constable meant working from the shadows and making compromises that would not survive in the light. It was a maxim I believed to be true a week ago when this started, a guiding principle that the Constables functioned on. It was an ideology that Shaw embodied perfectly and had disseminated down. It allowed people like Dorian to accept the work they didn’t like for the results they did.
In my mind, it intertwined too closely with Velio’s own mentality that the wild instin
cts of free men had to be shackled for their own good. I was going to prove otherwise.
The tables were set. The stage was ready. Security entered and took up position. Curtains were drawn around me and Dorian, a shiny reveal for after things got started.
I couldn’t see what was happening out there from here, but I had a pretty good idea what was going on based on the sounds. The house lights came on and the buyers were escorted in, one group at a time.
I recognized them all from the warehouse, though the pirate brothers were not among them. Dawn Nay arrived alone and had a more professional quality to her. She was positioned at the far table on my side, just outside my curtain. Ilsten and Laurina were brought in next. They were placed next to the stage, abuzz with questions and observations about the technology they were seeing. The security guard left, saying, “I don’t know, ask the tech!”
The arms dealers Xevia and Zephia came next. They were seated across from the Narugg brothers and the exchange between the two resulted in a cry for silence from Dawn May. “Get drunk and disorderly after the sale. And then go find a room to work it out or to kill each other. I don’t care which, I just want you to be quiet.”
This left the smuggler, Arturo Hyak, as the final buyer to enter. He was seated on Dorian’s side near the stage. His presence was obvious from process of elimination, but he also took a moment to speak out about Dorian’s absence. “Empty table at the back there, don’t see Dorian and his ward.”
It was a good setup, one that I knew Evelyn would plan on. She made her entrance voice first. “An excellent question, Mr. Hyak. You see, they got here early. They had a little private tour as my special guests. Sadly, they won’t be bidding against you for my goods today. They have, however, offered to help me in raising the value of my offering in other ways.”
The curtains pulled. A mixture of laughter, concern, hate, and awe erupted from the other buyers. To her credit, Dawn tried to stand up in protest and Arturo had to be grabbed and restrained by two of Velio’s loyalists.
