by Anna Carven
The boss looked at him, his grey-blue eyes becoming sharp again for just a moment. His face was old and weathered, his skin paper-thin and almost translucent. Kai was looking at a living corpse. Medical technology had kept this man alive much longer than nature intended.
“Ya have enough followers to form yer own clan now, Kainan. The Urubora is finished. I should’ve stopped the rot decades ago, but I got complacent.” He chuckled again, his self-loathing evident. “I never told ya this, but when the Council of Families elevated Arik to the position of Second, I ain’t never approved of it. I only accepted the deal ‘coz in exchange, they allowed me to give ya the North Ward. There’s always a price to power, kid, but giving control of that territory to ya, an outsider, was one decision I never regretted.”
Kai bowed his head. “You give me too much credit.”
“Nah. I’ve watched the place transform under yer watch. Ya’ve cleaned the shabu and all the cheap synthetic drugs from the streets and gotten rid of the low-grade dealers and pimps. Ya’ve built up the infrastructure. Ten years ago, a man couldn’t walk around the North Ward without worryin’ whether he was gonna get stabbed for his body parts.”
The old man raised a skeletal hand and patted Kai on the shoulder. “Keep my daughter safe, and have yer people go to ground. The Council will call for ya tomorrow, and by that time, I’ll probably be dead.”
Kai opened his mouth to protest, but the boss held up a hand. “Don’t worry about me, kid. Ya know very well this body’s been holdin’ up for far too long. And don’t ya tell Melia a thing. I don’t want her to remember me like this. Yer the only one who can protect her now.”
To their left, they heard a splash. The bodyguard flipped a silver fish onto the cracked tiles at the water’s edge. It flailed helplessly, gasping for air.
“They’re going to give me a big funeral, proper mob style. Ya have my permission not to attend. Start workin’ on those arrangements we talked about. I never wanted to see Darkside go this way, but it ain’t gonna be helped.”
“Understood.” Kai bowed again. A heavy weight settled in his chest as he looked at the frail old man who had plucked him from poverty and invested in him. When he’d failed his MQ exam at the Federation Academy, Vadim had been there to take him in.
The Federation hadn’t been able to get rid of him quickly enough.
The Morality Quotient he’d been given had been the rarest one: X.
Unsuitable for any type of employment.
The Academy had high hopes for him after he’d become the first Unregistered to qualify for a scholarship and make it through to the examination stage.
But then the MQ exam had brought him back down to Earth. Apparently, his particular combination of antisocial traits and intelligence was dangerous. Besides, he was just an Unregistered after all, not worthy to become a fully-fledged citizen of the Federation.
He’d been perfect gangster material; perfect fodder for the old man’s recruitment drive.
And now this old man was about to pass on into the next life.
Kai didn’t know whether to feel sad, or relieved, or both.
“Don’t look at me like that, son,” the Boss wheezed. “Ya know me well enough by now to know that death has been on my mind for a long time. I have regrets, but I’m not afraid.”
A faint buzzing sound started up, coming from the Boss’s side. “Fuckin’ babysitters,” he growled. “They can’t let an old man have even a few minutes of peace. They’re gonna come looking for me now. Ya’d better go, Kainan.”
“I can take you out of here,” Kai said grimly. “My people can protect you, Boss.”
“What, and have Arik and the Families after both our heads? Make ya protect a dyin’ man? It’s pointless. I may be the official Boss of the Urubora clan, but I ain’t got no power anymore, son. They’ve systematically taken it from me over the past century. The only saving grace is that ya have the North Ward. That’s the best of the territories, Kai. Ya made it like that. And yer so close now. Now get outta my sight and don’t come back to the Tower again. Don’t ya dare show up at my funeral, boy. I forbid it. And don’t worry about the Families. As a parting gift to ya, I’ll handle them. I got a plan to deal with them.”
Kai bowed. His relationship with the sometimes kind, sometimes cruel Vadim Araki had been a complicated one, and now, the old man expected to bow out with minimal fuss.
Kai’s sadness was tempered with acceptance. After all, the old man’s passage into the afterlife was well overdue. His passing would leave a power vacuum, but from time to time, the foundations of their world had to undergo seismic shifts. In Darkside, nothing every stayed the same.
“Goodbye, boss,” Kai said softly. “Perhaps we’ll meet again in the next life.”
There was no point in feeling sad for a man like Vadim, who had thrust so many into the afterlife before him, who had given Kai a new life and with the same hand had taken away more than his pound of flesh.
Kai knew it.
Vadim knew it.
And so their final parting was brief.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
She found the General cradling his daughter in the shade of a fruit tree. It was mid-morning now, and the sunlight was clear and bright, lending a certain brilliance to the surrounding landscape. Even though she’d been raised in the shadows of the Dark Planet, and even the harsh sunlight burned her eyes, Zyara loved the daytime. Everything on Earth was so vibrant. There were colors here she’d never seen before; shades of blue and orange and green that didn’t exist anywhere else in the Universe.
Tarak al Akkadian, former General of the Kordolian military, traitor to the Kythian Court, elite warrior of the First Division, and father of a half-human, half-Kordolian miracle child called Ami, sat in the dappled shade, a rare smile gracing his features. As Zyara approached, he looked up, his eyes hidden behind dark shades.
Her eyes widened as she took in his expression.
He was uncharacteristically serene.
“Fatherhood suits you,” she remarked. Tarak grunted as he diverted his attention back to Ami. His daughter stared back at him, her violet eyes glimmering in the morning light. She curled a tiny hand around his finger, squeezing it. Soft cooing baby sounds escaped her tiny mouth.
Tarak whispered to her in Kordolian, so softly that even Zyara couldn’t catch the words.
“She is immune to sunlight,” he said proudly, turning towards her. Dappled light danced across their faces as a gentle breeze swept through the trees. “She does not possess any of our Kordolian weaknesses. Perhaps the union of Humans and Kordolians was a fated thing.” He shook his head. “Those fools on Kythia are blinded by their Imperial doctrines.”
“It’s nature,” Zyara said reverently. Although she’d been able to decode the Human genome in a short amount of time, confirming their genetic compatibility with Kordolians, Abbey’s pregnancy had still come as a surprise to her. “You can’t stop the inevitable.”
“Hm.” The General stroked his daughter’s wispy hair, his expression inscrutable. Zyara marveled at the way his large hands could be so gentle even though they were capable of such violence. “Abbey tells me the same thing. She says I should expend less energy trying to shape the fate of the Universe.”
Behind her shades, Zyara’s eyes widened. It was a rare admission. Tarak was accustomed to controlling the fate of everything around him, but when it came to his wife and daughter, he displayed a certain flexibility that Zyara had never seen before.
Wonders would never cease.
“But you didn’t seek me out to talk about child-rearing, Zyara,” he growled, his tone at odds with the indulgent look he directed at Ami. The child smiled, making a happy gurgling sound in her throat. “What is the issue?”
“I need something from the Humans,” she informed him. Tarak moved his finger back and forth as Ami held on, her tiny hand gripping him tightly.
He raised an eyebrow. “What could you possibly need that we cannot synthesize our
selves or purchase from a trading colony?”
“Medicine. Two of my patients are sick, and time is running out for them. The Humans have a drug that can slow the illness. Apparently, it is scarce, almost impossible to obtain. But I need that drug at all costs, otherwise they will be lost.”
“You cannot figure out how to synthesize a cure yourself?”
“I could, but that would take time. I don’t have that luxury. The illness will take them before then. I need a short-term fix.”
“These patients of yours… they are Human?”
“I..” Zyara hesitated, remembering the savage green stares of the twins. Their wild eyes had almost glowed in the darkness. “I… think so. Yes. They’re Human.” Although for how much longer, she wasn’t sure. “I need your assistance with this matter, General.”
Tarak regarded her silently, his face unreadable, his dark glasses glinting in the sunlight. For a moment, she worried he might refuse her. After all, they were only Humans.
That was the Imperial mindset when it came to other species.
But the General had never been one to blindly follow the Empire’s rules, and since landing on Earth, the Kordolians had sought to redefine themselves.
“I will negotiate with the Federation,” Tarak said finally as he looked up, his attention diverting to something behind her, “even though that particular group of Humans is more irritating to deal with than a swarm of angry vakkandik flies.” His grey lips curved into a frown. “Although if you are pressed for time, I can make no promises. Humans can be infuriatingly slow when it comes to these things.”
“Thank you,” Zyara murmured, slightly surprised at how easily that had been. Her respect for the ancient medic’s Code of Ethics had once been a source of conflict between them, and she’d silently questioned many of the things she’d been ordered to do on the battlefield.
But she had never been disloyal, and she’d never been insubordinate.
Well, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. There were rare occasions when she’d dared to be insubordinate, but in those cases, the circumstances had been justified.
But that was all in the past. Now she’d found the freedom to do things her way, and it was liberating.
“There’s another avenue I’d like to explore,” she added, as an unbidden image of Kainan flashed into her mind. She fought to maintain a blank expression as her pulse quickened.
“Oh?”
“A certain Human owes me a favor. I think he might be able to get me what I need.”
“He is one of the Darkside Humans you helped last night?”
“Yes.” Inwardly, Zyara cringed. Nothing escaped Tarak’s notice. He would have received a detailed report from Kalan or Rykal about the events of last night. Zyara hoped nothing had been mentioned about her inebriated state.
“What makes you think your Human can obtain this drug more quickly than the Federation?”
“He’s not an ordinary Human,” Zyara replied, remembering Kainan’s air of quiet authority. “He seemed rather… connected. I believe he’d be able to make inroads through less official channels.”
Tarak was still looking over Zyara shoulder, focusing on something in the distance. “I understand those Humans operate outside Federation law. Your idea may prove to be more effective than dealing with official Human bureaucratic nonsense.” Although he was talking to her, his attention was somewhat diverted. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Zyara glanced over her shoulder and saw Abbey heading towards them.
The General’s wife wore a utilitarian work outfit. Her brown hair was disheveled, her delicate face framed by loose strands escaping from a messy bun. A faint sheen of sweat coated her face.
“You are supposed to be resting,” Tarak grumbled as she reached his side, flashing Zyara a wide grin. She stripped off her gloves, which were caked with red dirt, letting them drop to the ground.
“What am I supposed to do?” She plonked herself down on the bench beside the General. “Lie in bed all day like an invalid? I’d be bored out of my mind.”
“You barely slept last night,” he chided, as Abbey made a face. She shrugged out of her coveralls, letting the top half fall to her waist. Underneath, she wore a tight-fitting tank-top that left little to the imagination. Tarak’s attention wavered as Abbey reached for her daughter. “You’ve barely slept since you’ve returned to me.”
“Neither have you.” Abbey took Ami into her arms as she shot Tarak a half-amused look. The child smacked her lips and gurgled, becoming restless. “Hungry, my love?” She lifted her top, preparing to breastfeed. The action was completely unselfconscious. There was no pretense or furtiveness around it.
Zyara couldn’t help but be slightly awed by the scene before her. Tarak watched Abbey like the big, protective predator that he was as she sat in the sunshine, feeding her child. His face held a mixture of pride and fierce possessiveness.
From Kythia to Earth, how the tables had turned.
Who would have thought that someday they might all end up on a distant green-and-blue planet, existing alongside a species that was so similar to them, yet so different?
Zyara cleared her throat awkwardly and the General looked up, not at all fazed by the fact that she’d just witnessed them sharing such an intimate moment.
“I will trust your judgement on this matter, Zyara.” He inclined his head, scrutinizing her. “You are no longer just the medic for the First Division. As soon as you started treating Humans, you took on your own responsibilities. My only condition is that if you are to go into Darkside, you must take an escort. I am not going to allow my medic to come to any harm at the hands of mere Humans. First Division soldiers are to accompany you.”
“Understood.”
“In the meantime, I will contact the Federation through Xalikian and Sera. This thing you need, what is it called?”
“Simavir. I need as much as they can possibly spare.”
“I will try, but if time is of the essence, you may have better luck with your Darkside people. Humans can be obstructive to the point of stupidity, for no reason at all.”
Abbey looked up, her slender arms cradling Ami, who was peacefully suckling at her breast. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Zyara. If you need it, Darkside will have it. You can get anything there, if you’re willing to pay the right price. I’ve done loads of business there in the past and never had a problem. Darkside folk live by their own code, but they don’t harm outsiders. It’s that weird sense of honor they all seem to have. Just make sure you know the exact terms and conditions of whatever you’re getting into. Be firm. They understand and respect that. And don’t worry. They wouldn’t ever harm you. That would be bad for business.”
“And very bad for them,” Tarak added. “We will make sure they understand that too.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Kai left the Tower with anger seething in his veins, accelerating out of the hover-port with a blast of speed. The hierarchy of the Urubora clan was threatening to crumble around him, the wheels of destruction set in motion by sinister forces.
Someone had been working to set this up over a long period of time.
The other clans were trying to steal the North Ward, the territory he’d worked so tirelessly to bring into the twenty-forth century.
It all stank of a carefully plotted coup.
And now they had cause to label him a traitor.
Time was running out, and there was no point in trying to plead his innocence before the Council of Families.
It was time to prepare for the next stage.
He gunned the thrusters and shot out into the slipstream. He rose above the ground-traffic, a cacophony of electronic beeps following him as the drivers below took notice. The traffic was the usual Darkside mix, a strange combination of the old and new.
Old-fashioned land-vehicles jostled with gleaming late-model bot-cars, the ancient, lumbering machines patched up with any material imaginable. As usual, Kai was the only person d
riving a hover-car. Such vehicles were more commonly spotted on the affluent gilded avenues of downtown Teluria.
As he eased above the gridlock, Kai caught sight of a figure running through the traffic.
Running? What the hell?
It was the middle of the day, and the streets were otherwise devoid of foot traffic. People just didn’t do that around here. Something was wrong.
He slowed, trying to get a closer look at the runner. At the same time, he visualized a complicated set of mental commands, bringing up an optical datafeed in a segment of his visual field.
The neural implant allowed him to monitor the streets of the Central Ward, especially those around the Tower.
Images filtered through his mind. The runner was just a kid in a hoodie. He was being chased by two thugs, and Kai had to give it to him, he was fast. One of the pursuers brandished a nasty looking bolt-jack. It wouldn’t kill the kid, but it would give him a painful shock. Bolt-jacks were vicious things; they were designed to cause maximum pain by delivering a powerful electric shock. If used in the wrong way, they could cause permanent paralysis.
The kid disappeared down an alleyway, the two thugs in hot pursuit.
“Just you wait, you little shit! I’m going to rip your fucking head off!”
Kai slowed to a crawl and turned, following the thugs. This was Vadim’s neighborhood, but he wasn’t about to tolerate violence in his boss’ district.
That wasn’t the way they did things around here.
Who the fuck did these assholes think they were, coming and causing trouble on his people’s turf?
Kai’s anger swelled, threatening to burst forth. It had been a long time since he’d felt this way; on the verge of losing control.
He was on the brink, and he needed an outlet.
Deep down, he admitted to himself that he was looking for a fight. He got like that sometimes.
Kai swept into the alley, a narrow passage between walls of aged concrete, where sprays of colorful graffiti extended all the way up to the tops of the buildings. It terminated in a dead-end; the kid had nowhere left to run.
