“How about you and your boyfriend keep your mouths shut?” I said.
They shoved off the bar and stood next to me. “We were trying, old man,” the leader said, “but if I had to hear you bore the poor girl with one more bullshit story, my head was going to explode.”
“Bullshit story? Don’t you know who I am? I’ve been putting down insurgents since before either of you was wearing diapers.”
“I didn’t realize there were rebels in nursing homes.”
His partner almost lost it laughing. I sprang to my feet too fast, and my artificial leg wasn’t ready. I wobbled, caught my balance on the nearest table, and drew myself in front of them. They were tall, definitely not born on Earth, but still plenty strong enough to take me on in my inebriated state.
“Why don’t we go, baby,” my escort whispered into my ear.
“Yeah, go,” the collector in the duster said. “Unless…” He turned to his partner and sneered. “Unless that’s why you want to keep her here. You missing equipment like one of these mutants?” He went to poke me in the crotch, but I bobbed out of the way.
“Watch your mouth, boy.” I grabbed my glass without thinking twice and smashed it into the side of his head. It shattered into countless pieces, but the one thing I was counting on was for him to go down. He didn’t. The collector reeled but stayed upright, and his partner had me in a headlock before I could blink.
“You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that,” the leader said. He picked a few shards out of his bloody hair and studied me from head to toe. “I don’t usually like to beat old men, but now I’ll have to make an exception.”
“I’m sure,” I said. “Why don’t you tell your friend to let me go, and I’ll teach you how to talk properly in front of a lady.”
“What lady?” He grabbed my jaw and rotated my head toward the stool where my noseless escort had been. She was gone. “When you look like a prune, the only thing they’re interested in is credits.” His fist crashed into my gut so hard I collapsed onto the floor. He spat on me, and the two of them strutted away crowing.
“That’s the problem with you young guns,” I groaned as I rose to my knees. “No passion for the fight. Definitely not Pervenio men. Only Venta could train such pussies.”
They stopped, and the leader sighed. “Now why did you have to go and keep running your mouth?” His fist crunched against my jaw and sent me sprawling. He knelt by my side, reached into my pocket, and removed my ID. He then flung it back at me. “We abandoned Luxarn’s sinking ship months ago, Haglin Amissum. Funny thing is, all my time there, I’ve never heard of you in my life. Have you?” His partner shook his head.
“You—” A swift kick in the side shut me up and knocked me into a cluster of empty stools.
“Would you two knock it off?” the bartender ordered.
The lead collector flashed his Venta badge, making sure to flaunt his holstered pistol. “Why don’t you shut the hell up!” Not a soul protested. I remembered having that kind of influence, especially in Pervenio-owned venues. The collector tapped my cheek. “Where is the big bad Pervenio man now?” he said to me. “How many protestors was it you said you took on in that asteroid. Forty? What were they slapping you with? Picket signs?”
I licked the blood off my lip. “Makes me sick knowing that Sol is in the hands of brats like you.”
“Do you really want to die tonight, old timer?”
“Maybe he is a washed-up old collector,” the partner said. “That’s a nice gun he’s got. It’d look pretty in a trophy case.”
“I’ll be damned, you’re right. A fine relic, just like him.”
“Help me up, and I’ll show you just what she’s capable of,” I snarled.
“Nah. I think you’re going to hand it over, and then maybe, just maybe, I won’t take you out back and leave your corpse in the alley. If you really were a collector, then you’d know that here on our turf, nobody would bat an eyelash.” He seized my throat and squeezed. “How does that sound, Haglin Amissum.”
I tried to respond, but his grip was too tight. At the same time, I felt his partner trying to figure out how to loosen my holster.
“What was that?” he chuckled. “I couldn’t hear you.”
“Malcolm… Graves…” I forced out.
“Who the hell is that?”
His partner was just about to free my gun, when my artificial leg stabbed out into his chest and sent him flying across the room into an occupied booth twenty meters away. The head collector’s grip relaxed as he watched in shock, allowing me to draw my pistol and crack him across the skull with the handle. This time, he doubled over like a sack of plasticrete.
“Son of a bitch!” he screamed from the floor. Pistol in hand, he rolled over and fired one round over my shoulder. I kicked a stool at him. The metal legs struck with such force, they knocked his gun away. I didn’t wait to hear his screams, not that I’d be able to over the panic his shot had caused throughout the club. I snatched up my ID and bolted out of the joint. Security had heard the gunshot and ran past me on my way out.
In seconds, I vanished into the perpetual Tongueway crowd. I was off the books at the Twilight Sun, so it’d take a fair bit of snooping if they wanted to track me down based on my fake name. I doubted two young, brash Venta collectors would go through the trouble, or be willing to admit they’d been taken down by a washed-up old man. I know I wouldn’t have. But if they did come knocking, I’d be happy to greet them. It was the most thrilling thing that’d happened to me since retiring.
“Foundry salts, straight from Titan,” a hawkish offworlder offered me from beneath the overhang of a casino on my way by, as if reading my thoughts. The bags under his eyes read so darkly against his pale skin, they might as well have been drawn on. His teeth were half rotted. He looked like Zhaff’s sallow, half-dead body.
“I’ll take it,” I muttered, trying to force the image out. I synced whatever amount of credits he’d asked for, I couldn’t say. One sniff of the stuff and the ache in my jaw from taking that collector’s punch was gone.
I staggered into the casino, where slot machines dinged all around me like something out of a circus nightmare. I snorted and drank and gambled my way through the place, and then all along the Tongueway. Colors grew more vivid and dancers more beautiful. I braved a private booth with one, even though the feeling in my lower extremity still hadn’t completely returned. It didn’t matter while on foundry salts from Titan’s Lower factories. Everything felt incredible, and I was compelled to keep moving before they grew frustrated by my impotence.
My world became a blur of activity, and I was merely a ghost floating through it. Memories faded. History disappeared. I was living in the here and now; no worries, no ex-partners, no family, and no employer. Free.
Seven
Kale
Our landing at Rin’s hands went smoother than expected, though in a ship like the Cora, it was probably harder to screw it up. The crew began preparing for our exit in the cargo hold. Sixteen armed fighters, Ambassador Aria, and Rin. Roughly forty-five days in sleep pods on top of stronger gravity than they were accustomed to had them all looking exhausted.
While they worked, Gareth and I remained in my private quarters. When we stole the Cora, the room had been as garish as any Earther’s I’d ever seen. I’d had it stripped to its bones. The wood trim was peeled off and the cushioned bed and couches removed, leaving behind nothing but hard metal corners and dull, unadorned surfaces.
“You are sure we can trust Aria with this?” Gareth signed as he helped me into my powered suit of armor. Blood had diminished its white color, and patches of the orange circle painted on the chestplate were fading. I made it a point not to have it refurbished.
“I thought we were done with this,” I groused. I was growing tired of the constant questioning of Aria, even though I understood everyone’s hesitance.
“We were, but now you won’t have me watching your back.”
“I’ll have Rin
and the others. You’re not the only one who can shoot a gun, Gareth.”
“No, but I’m the only one who can hit anything with one.”
“I’ll be sure not to tell my aunt you said that.” He finished preparing my armor and took a step back. The lines of nervousness racking his face were plainly visible.
“I do trust Aria, though,” I said. “We need someone who speaks their language now.”
“But are you sure she speaks for us?” he signed. “We’re on Earther turf. Enough credits offered outside might be able to turn her.”
“They won’t. If that’s what she’s after, all she’d have to do is ask. The Children of Titan had enough stored up in offworld accounts to make her as rich as Luxarn Pervenio.”
“Fine. Just make sure you watch your back. Here, Aria is the least of your concerns.”
“I know. Now stop worrying about me. I need you focused on your more important mission.”
Gareth gestured to his clothing. Unlike me, he wore ordinary cloth rags with no printed orange circle or logo to speak of. He’d purposely dirtied his gaunt face to appear like a homeless, first-generation offworlder. Living under the high g of Saturn for so long had deepened the creases on his face enough that he almost looked like one. Most significant, however, was his lack of sanitary mask despite being on an Earther world.
“Good,” I said. “Be as fast as possible. The fewer germs you pick up out there, the better.”
“You won’t even notice I’m gone.”
He removed a loose portion of plating from the wall, revealing a circular duct that would comfortably fit a skinny Titanborn. It led out of a hidden hatch in the back of the ship. My favorite part about it was that we hadn’t made the addition. The great Luxarn Pervenio left a hole in his prized vessel so that even he could smuggle goods or people under the radar of the USF.
Gareth stopped in front of the opening. “Tell Rin not to miss me too much,” he signed.
“She’ll be in touch with our location, but try to stay off your terminal if you can,” I said. “We don’t need anybody intercepting something without meaning to.”
“You’re not the only one who learned how to sneak around growing up in the Lowers.”
I laid my hand on his shoulder. “Titan owes you for this. If I could go myself, you know I would.”
He shook his head vigorously. “You lead,” he signed.
“Aria is with us. She’ll be prepared if you come back with any infections. You have my word.”
“I survived this long. Maybe my blood is as strong as a Trass’s.”
“You get him to us alive, and I’ll tell the world you are one.”
His eyes glinted as he bowed his head. “From ice to ashes.”
“From ice to ashes.”
We exchanged a nod, and then he disappeared into the guts of the ship to carry out a task equally as crucial as staking our claim to the Ring in front of the entire USF Assembly. The only difference was that only Rin and I knew about his.
I detached the helmet of my suit and placed it down. I didn’t need a visor to hide my face, and the air of Mars’s domes was breathable enough regardless of the Earther stench. Then I reached into my belt and removed an old companion. The moment my sanitary mask went on, it was like I’d never taken the thing off. I had to set an example that there was nothing to fear while on Titan, but I understood the urge to wear them, which my people couldn’t break. The pressure as it tightened against the ridge of my nose, the way it muffled my voice… it just felt right. I was clean all over.
I made a few more adjustments to my armor before heading to the cargo bay. Rin and Aria waited by the exit ramp. My aunt wore armor similar to mine, and Aria was in another loose-fitting dress with an Earther flair—ornate around the collar and base, with an interweaving pattern of dark greens throughout. She had to look the part of non-militant diplomat.
“Where’s Gareth?” Aria asked.
“I told him to stay with the ship,” I replied. “I don’t trust the Cora in anybody else’s hands.” The answer seemed to satisfy her, and my lie brought the edges of a smirk to the intact half of Rin’s lips.
While the three of us were unarmed, the other Titanborn we brought along each had pulse rifles strapped to their armored backs. A few I recognized from battles around the Ring, but I didn’t know any of them well, since Gareth and Rin were tasked with selecting them. I had to trust they’d be able to steady their eager trigger fingers for the time being. I had to trust Rin wouldn’t provoke a fight. I had to trust Aria was as deft a negotiator as she seemed and wasn’t being played right along with us.
I closed my eyes as the exit ramp unfolded. Sometimes I liked to picture the first time I ever stepped onto the Piccolo and saw the world beyond the Darien Lowers. My problems seemed so trivial back then. Nobody scrutinized every single little thing I said or did.
Then the ramp clanged as it fully extended, and I was greeted by the harsh reality of our situation. There were no trumpets or cheering crowds to embrace a visiting dignitary. Instead, the lofty hangar was filled by a battalion of Red Wing Company gunmen, decked out in crimson armor with sweeping helms that made them appear as though they were from a bygone era. They too stored rifles on their backs rather than in their hands as a gesture of peace. A smattering of Venta Co. men stood among them. Being that Venta essentially ran New Beijing under the umbrella of the USF, we’d all agreed on a privately-owned hangar to land in and a neutral party to monitor the summit.
Neutral… Just thinking that word made me feel idiotic. No matter what colors they wore, we were all at the mercy of Earthers once again.
“All right, everyone,” Rin began, voice tempered by a sanitary mask of her own. “I want eyes all around us. Lord Trass isn’t to be touched, do you hear me? I don’t want any of these mudstompers even breathing on him.” The legion of guards lined up on either side of us voiced their agreement. “From ice to ashes!”
The words reverberated through Cora’s austere cargo hold as everyone repeated them, except for Aria. Instead, she took my arm. It was either that or nervousness for what was to come that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Probably both.
“Everything is going to work out,” she assured.
“It better,” Rin spat before I could reply. “You set it up.”
“It will.” Aria stood her ground like she always did, no matter how harsh I or any of my people ever were to her. She was as stubborn as she was brave.
“Too late to turn back now,” I said. I pulled free of her and took the first step forward. Immediately, everyone followed. The eyes of all the Earther gunmen waiting on the burnished hangar floor below widened as they saw us.
“Greetings, Mr. Trass,” said a man in an extravagantly patterned blue tunic as we emerged. “I am Director Yashikawa Venta.” He extended a hand, and I glared at it. My gaze didn’t falter, and after a brief moment, he noticed my sanitary mask and reeled it back. “Ah, yes. Forgive the mix-up during your entry. We aren’t accustomed to this type of arrangement.”
“Neither are we,” I replied.
“Yes, well...I hope that’s the last issue we experience. Captain Barnes and our Red Wing partners will help look after your ship and belongings.” He nodded toward the most decorated Red Wing officer.
“A pleasure, Mr. Trass,” Barnes said, bowing his head. A jagged scar on his jaw and military haircut left little doubt that he was a corporate-security lifer.
“Unfortunately, your people will be required to deposit their weapons before entering the USF Assembly Building,” Director Yashikawa indicated. “Would you rather stow them here?”
I glanced at my guards. They were as tense as any of the Earther officers. “I think we’ll hold on to them for now. Rin, leave two guards with our ship and belongings.”
Rin pointed at two of my guards, and they promptly hurried back up Cora’s ramp.
“As you wish.” Director Yashikawa’s eyes narrowed as he watched them, but he maintaine
d his composure. The gray peppering his thin mustache was evidence of his experience. Aria had explained to me before we left how Venta Co. operated differently from the top down than Pervenio Corp. Where Luxarn appointed people based on merit, Madame Venta, their founder, built her corporation around her constantly growing clan-family. Every Earther born with the Venta name had a place in the organization, from her directors to the chefs in her office building’s kitchen.
“We should get moving,” Director Yashikawa insisted. “The Assembly is eager to meet with you so we can move beyond this and reestablish trade with the Ring that has been so beneficial to all of us.”
“I’m sure that with your company’s continued development around Jupiter, your employer is doing well enough,” I said. “Let’s get this over with.”
I could tell by the way his features darkened that those words stung. I may have lived on Titan, but I kept careful track of Earther news feeds enough to know whose wallet was hurting and why. Darien Trass chose Saturn and its moons over Jupiter’s three centuries ago for many reasons, and Venta was starting to find out why. Despite being the largest of all the solar system’s gas giants, Jupiter simply didn’t foster the condensed volume of rare resources that Saturn did.
Director Yashikawa put on a pleasant smile and beckoned us forward into the New Beijing Spaceport. It was vast, though still paled in comparison to Pervenio Station. Vibrant ads dotted the walls of every hallway and outside every hangar. Anything you might want could be found or bought on Mars. They spoke to everyone who passed, scanning their eyes to inform them what they might want for dinner, what to buy off Solnet, what shows were worth seeing. It reminded me of how the docks in Darien, Titan looked before our revolution shattered all the viewscreens.
“Do mudstompers build anything modest?” Rin muttered in my ear.
“You should see where I was born,” Aria said.
Titan's Rise: (Children of Titan Book 3) Page 10
