by R. M. Olson
He glanced around the room, and Tae followed his glance. The looks on everyone’s faces were serious, but there was an air of repressed excitement.
“This will be dangerous. As you all know, we’re pulling a sting on Grigory Korzhikov. And we intend to take him down completely,” Lev said into the silence. “You’ll be paid, but there’s no way to compensate you enough for the kind of risks we’ll all be taking. Do this because you believe in it and you think the result is worth it, or don’t do it at all.”
“Or,” said Ivan quietly, “do it because there are people here you believe are worth the risk.”
Tae didn’t dare look at him, but he felt his face heating again.
Ivan wasn’t talking about him, damn it. He was talking about the fact that these people were old prison friends, and he’d damn well better remember it, and honestly, he had no idea what was wrong with him these days.
He could feel Ivan’s quick glance in his direction, but he wouldn’t meet his eye.
“Nothing’s happened yet,” Lev continued. “If you want to back out, we have the funds to pay your return passage. So now is the time to speak up if you’re having second thoughts. But if you stay, things will start happening quickly. We need to convince Grigory that we’re serious. The best way is to make him think the big spenders have changed who they’re loyal to. There’s a conference booked in the Strani house in a week’s time, with some of the biggest spenders in government. We’re going to get them to back out, and then we’re going to spread the word that they came here instead. We’ll do that in two ways: first, a couple days before the conference, Ysbel is going to set off an explosion in the grounds near the Strani house. And then Jez is going to Prasvishoni to convince the marks that Grigory’s called it off because it’s not safe. After that—” he spread his hands. “I expect after that, we’ll get a visit from Grogory’s people.”
There was another long silence. Lev looked around the small group one last time, and at last he nodded. “Alright. Galina, go ahead.”
He sat, and Galina stood, a grim, businesslike expression on her face and an intensity in her eyes that Tae didn’t remember seeing there before. For the first time since he’d met her, he realized that she was actually slightly frightening.
Jez must have noticed the same thing, because her grin went dreamy.
Tae shook his head, and beside him, Ivan, who must have followed his gaze, gave a low chuckle.
“I wonder daily how your pilot is still alive,” he whispered.
“Alright,” said Galina in a brisk voice. “Here’s what we need. First, there’s the serving staff—food servers, cleaners, people to check customers in at the desks. For those positions, we’ll need people who can blend in, and who can remember details. No one notices a server—or at least, no one should notice a server. Second, people who can act as customers. You’ll be weapons dealers, criminals, wealthy government officials. For the type of house we’re running, only the wealthiest can afford it, so whatever you are, you’re important and you’re used to getting your way. And finally, we’ll need the—” she paused for a moment, distaste evident in her voice. “The entertainers, as they call them. We won’t be putting you with paying customers, or if we do, we’ll have measures in place to keep you safe. However, this will be the riskiest position by far.
“If you get nerves, or if you break down, this isn’t for you. You’ll need to be able to play your part right up to and until you think a customer is about to slit your throat just for the fun of it. That said, this isn’t going to be the kind of house that uses disposable entertainers. You’ll be trained for the various positions, so I’ll need those of you who have some physical dexterity—if you’ve ever danced, or played an instrument, or done any type of sex work, that would be helpful. And you need to be good with a weapon. I won’t let anyone play an entertainer who can’t shoot a heat pistol.” She glanced around. “Does anyone have questions?”
No one spoke, but their faces were grimmer than they had been.
“Good,” she said at last. “I’ll be here. Lev will tell each of you what he needs from you. Then come see me, and we’ll figure out which part you can play.”
There was a murmur of assent from the gathered company, and slowly, people stood and made their way over to Lev or Galina.
Tae stayed where he was, worry churning in his stomach. Finally, he turned to Ivan. “Do you think they know what they’ve signed up for?” he asked quietly.
Ivan smiled without humour. “I don’t know. But I do know these people. They hate Grigory and everything he stands for. So whether they know or not—this is something that they believe in. Enough to … well, enough to risk their lives over it.”
Tae heard the words he’d been about to say, and hadn’t. “Enough to die for it.”
He shivered slightly. Because it could very well come down to that.
CHAPTER NINE
“MISKO BIT ME!”
Olya’s voice was much louder, and much more shrill, than Ysbel had imagined could come from any person of her size.
She looked up from where she’d been cutting the dessert ration packs into two exactly identical-sized pieces, and lowered her eyebrows at her son. “Misko,” she said, in her sternest voice. “Don’t bite your sister. You know better than that.”
Misko glared at her, unimpressed.
“And,” Olya chimed in self-importantly, “she’s going to give me a bite of your dessert. Right Mama?”
Misko’s face collapsed into utter despair, and he began wailing.
“Misko!” Ysbel bellowed over the noise. “Please stop that before this entire building comes down, or else I go completely crazy.”
Misko kept wailing.
“Or I eat your dessert myself.”
The wailing abruptly stopped, stifled into a hiccuping, sniffling silence.
Ysbel gave a short sigh of relief. “Thank you, Misko. Now, go sit down, both of you.”
The children obeyed.
Ysbel studied Olya as she picked up the dessert rations and handed them to the children.
That girl had Tanya’s brains, that was for certain.
Behind her, the door to their quarters opened, and she turned quickly, hand going to her heat pistol.
Tanya smiled as she slipped inside. “Ysi. How are you, my heart?”
Ysbel smiled back despite herself, the tension from the last three hours draining away at the sight of her wife.
Tanya looked—happy. Not just happy. Purposeful. She had that look to her that Ysbel had fallen in love with so many years ago, when they were both just children, really, that look of someone who was doing something she loved and was good at, and was determined to see it through.
It had been a long time since she’d seen Tanya look like this.
A faint pang of guilt stirred in her chest at the thought.
Tanya had been right. Ysbel had forgotten what it meant to be married. And Tanya had given everything, and had kept giving everything, because Ysbel was taking it all.
But—well, the thing was, she’d told Tanya the truth, back on the casino ship. This marriage was worth putting back together. Even if three hours with Misko the hellion and Olya who had to know everything about everything was almost enough to send her curled up and weeping into a corner.
“How is everything going out there?” Ysbel asked, kissing her wife’s forehead.
Tanya drew back and looked at her, face serious. “Good, I think. But it’s time for your part now.”
Ysbel tried to hide her expression of relief, but Tanya chuckled and shook her head. “Things are going that well with the children, then?”
“It’s not the children, specifically,” Ysbel grumbled, keeping her voice low enough that Olya hopefully wouldn’t overhear.
Olya, she’d learned through sad experience, had very sharp ears.
“I love the children very much. It’s the fact that at any given moment, I’m being pulled into the middle of a fight between someone a
nd someone else. I think Misko would pick a fight with the table leg if Olya weren’t around. But when she is, she’s more than happy to oblige.”
Tanya shook her head, smiling softly. “I’m sorry, my heart. They are in a new place, and they aren’t used to being looked after by anyone but me. We’ll all get used to this sooner or later, I’m sure.”
“You’re assuming I survive that long,” Ysbel muttered, but she was smiling as well.
Tanya ran a hand over Ysbel’s shaved head and trailed her fingers down the back of her neck. “Anyways, you’ll have a reason to get away for a little while now. Come on, I’ll finish up with dinner. You go get ready.”
Ysbel nodded, took Tanya in her arms, and kissed her tenderly. Then she shot a mock scowl at the children. “You behave, alright?”
“I always behave, Mama,” said Olya primly.
“I never behave,” Misko said exuberantly through a mouthful of crumbs. “And I’m never going to behave. I’m going to be a grownup soon, and I’m going to do whatever I want! And I’m going to eat dessert every single meal!”
“Finish chewing before you talk, my heart,” said Tanya absently. She turned back to Ysbel. “Good luck, Ysi.” She paused a moment. “I—know this isn’t easy for you. And I—”
Ysbel shook her head and pulled her wife back into her arms. “Tanya,” she said quietly. “It wasn’t easy for you, either, I just didn’t see that. I told you. I want to make this work. Seeing you happy is worth everything for me. And I should have done this a long time ago.”
Tanya looked at her fondly, and for a moment, Ysbel forgot the combination of stress and boredom that had become her entire life these past few days, forgot everything but how much she loved this woman.
“Go on,” said Tanya, kissing her lightly. “I’ll wait up for you.”
Ysbel took a deep breath, smiled at her wife, and made her way down the hallway to her workroom.
She was almost finished her preparations when there was a light knock at the door.
“Come in,” she called, and Lev stepped inside.
“Ysbel,” he said quietly. “Galina’s ready. She’s waiting by the bikes.” He paused. “You’ve decided what you’re going to hit, I assume?”
“Yes,” said Ysbel. She pulled up a map of the pleasure district, and tapped an open area near the red mark that was the Strani house. “There’s a park here. It should be easy enough to clear out, and it shouldn’t attract too much attention, but still make people uneasy.” She paused a moment. “Also, it shouldn’t kill anyone. Tanya believes that killing people should be done only as a last resort, and I support her in this.”
Lev raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t say I agree with her,” said Ysbel. “But she is my wife, and I support her.”
“Ah.” Lev nodded, clearly trying to fight back his amusement. “Well. In this case, at least, I believe Tanya is correct. As you say, we don’t want to cause injuries, just enough of a stir that people might think twice about visiting the pleasure district.” He paused, and gave a small smile. “It won’t escape Grigory’s notice that we’re far enough away from the pleasure district that anyone who still wanted to attend an establishment would be perfectly safe here.”
Ysbel smiled. “Well, as safe as you can be, if your entertainer is a trained assassin. How is Tanya doing?”
Lev smiled. “She’s a natural, to be honest with you.”
“I knew she would be,” said Ysbel, with a fond smile. “She is very good at anything she puts her mind to.”
He chuckled. “And Jez running the gambling hall was a stroke of genius. She’s in her element there.”
Ysbel studied Lev for a moment. “You’re—doing well with this,” she said at last. “You’re not a terrible person around Galina, and I’m glad. Because she’s a nice girl.”
Lev looked at her, startled, then gave a small, wry smile. “Is it that obvious?”
“Well, yes. But you are trying, that’s the thing. And our pilot girl can see that too.” She paused again for a moment. “And you know, I think she missed you. Maybe she doesn’t want a relationship, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about you.”
“I—know,” said Lev, in a soft voice. “I missed her, too. I hadn’t realized how much. And—and I’m happy for her. Galina’s better for her than I ever was.” He gave a soft, rueful laugh. “I don’t think I realized how much of a complete ass I was to her.”
“Well, yes, you were,” said Ysbel philosophically. Then she shrugged. “I mean, in fairness, she can be the most irritating person I’ve ever met in my life, but—”
Lev gave a small smile. “Well, I’m glad she found someone who can manage not to be a complete ass. And—I’m working on it. Since she actually gave me a second chance, which I didn’t deserve.”
“It will hurt less, eventually,” said Ysbel quietly, a small pang of pity stirring in her chest. “It will get easier, I promise.”
“I—hope so.” His voice was quiet, and she heard the tinge of heartbreak under it. Then he shook his head briskly. “Anyways, I’ll let Galina know you’re on your way.” He gave her a small smile, then turned out the door.
She looked after him for a few moments, shaking her head.
He’d survive, and honestly, this was probably good for him. That boy thought a little too highly of himself, and a little too low of everyone else, for his own good. And Jez would be a good friend for him, if she decided she wanted to be. Still—well, she knew what it felt like to have a broken heart.
All things considered, he was doing alright.
When Ysbel reached the skybikes, Galina was waiting for her. Ysbel looked her over critically. She was dressed in a dark grey outfit, with a hood of a similar colour pulled up over her head. Her face was tense, but she relaxed into a slight smile when she saw Ysbel.
“Your wife told me what to wear,” she said.
Ysbel smiled. “Yes, Tanya is good at that sort of thing.”
Galina nodded, and Ysbel was struck suddenly by how young she was. A couple years older than their crazy pilot, maybe, but no more than that.
“Alright,” she said, swinging her leg over a skybike. “Let’s go. I will let you lead the way, since Lev tells me you know this place better than I do.”
Galina gave her a tight smile. “I don’t know it personally. I have a friend, though. She—knew it very well. And she described it to me enough times that I know more or less where we’re going.”
“I see,” said Ysbel quietly.
Galina turned away hurriedly and swung up on her own skybike, and Ysbel followed her out the small hangar bay door.
They rode through the dark streets without speaking, even over the coms. The air on the planet had cooled now that dark had fallen, and it brushed across Ysbel’s face, just enough to send a small shiver down her back.
The streets weren’t deserted, but they were much less busy than they had been in the day. Flickering artificial lights hung in orange bulbs over the streets, but they cast almost more shadows than light, and the people who walked the streets did so in small clusters, either with the nervous movements of people constantly looking over their shoulders, or with the swaggering confidence of people who were the ones being looked at over shoulders. From below street level, from the small stairwells that led to darkened doorways, there came snatches of music and boisterous voices, and every so often a shout or curse. As they passed one doorway, the door was flung open, a shaft of yellow light cutting through the dimness of the streets, and a woman staggered out, as if she’d been pushed. She cursed, picking herself up, and, leaning against the wall, made her unsteady way back up to the street.
They took a circuitous route through the darkened city, avoiding the main streets, but also avoiding the smaller, darker alleys.
“We’re not going directly into the pleasure district,” said Galina in her earpiece. “I think it will be better if we park the skybikes out of the way.”
“Alright,” Ysbel grunted.
It didn’t actually matter, so long as they could get in and get out unseen.
The streets they rode down were growing gradually dirtier and narrower, the artificial lights dimmer and less frequent. The smell from the streets was that of garbage and human waste.
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” she said into the com. Ahead of her, Galina gave a short nod.
Ysbel shrugged. It probably didn’t matter, honestly. She doubted that anyone in this filthy city, crime boss, mob leader, or boyevik, could possibly match the level of destructive power she was carrying in the padded bag around her neck.
At last they stopped in the entrance to a small alley. Galina paused a moment, then slid off her bike, leaning it up against the filthy wall. Ysbel came to a halt and did the same.
“Where are we?” she asked quietly, looking around. The smell from the alley behind them was foul enough that a whiff drifting out in the still air was enough to make her cough.
Galina sighed. Her posture was so tense it was almost painful. “This—is where the entertainers and the servers live. When they’re not being used. Or when they’ve been used up.”
There was a bitterness to her voice that surprised Ysbel, and she frowned at the girl.
“Tell me, Galina,” she said in a soft voice. “It—wasn’t just your friend, was it?”
Galina stiffened. “I—don’t know—”
Ysbel shook her head grimly. “Listen. I’m not stupid. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but there’s no need to keep it secret. It’s not something shameful.”
