“Who takes doses of Calm during sex?”
“My study of humans says it’s unlikely, boss. But I could be wrong… I’ve mostly studied how best to maim and kill them. I do so love severing critical tendons and arteries.”
“The bouncer abandoned his post. Plus there were Star Cutters involved. The place doesn’t have any security footage of the incident either. Several hours of data are missing due to glitches in the system, glitches that also caused the doors inside the place to lock and no security codes could open them. This glitch was fixed by an unknown person or simply sorted itself out, but with one exception: the room in which they found the unconscious victims. The police had to cut their way in.”
“Boss, I’ve got something. Check this guy out.”
An image of a man with a disfigured face popped up into Vega’s vision.
“This guy got off the freighter, sir. According to a record made by the station’s deck officer, he was recently scarred in an accident. His name checks out as one of the miners from the freighter. It seems fishy, though.”
Vega zoomed in on the man’s face. “Run an analysis. I think it’s a fake.”
“The image is real, sir. But my analysis reveals that’s not his real face. It’s a chameleon veil.”
“That fits Gendin’s MO. Do a reconstruction. See if you can figure out what this person’s face originally looked like.”
“Reconstruction of the mask reveals it to be one Gendin has used before. And is it just me, boss, or is there an area of fuzziness when he moves through this corridor, right as the light is between him and the camera.”
Vega observed the footage. “I see it. But that could be interference from the flux capacitor nearby.”
“Oh, I think it is interference, boss. Interference from someone hiding in a refraction field.”
Vega studied the image more closely, and then reached out and patted Faisal. “Good work, chum.”
Faisal extended his blades and gave them a good whirl, but Vega had withdrawn his hand fast enough to avoid getting cut—this time.
“So we’ve got Gendin on the station along with Reel or maybe Oona Vim.”
“So where are the rest, boss?”
“Hiding in deep space is my guess. With only two going to Titus II, the long way around. They’re going to attempt to rescue the father as we had predicted.” Vega thought for a moment. “An extraction job suggests Gendin and Reel. There’s no reason to take the girl along. She’d be a liability, and going to Titus II would put her in greater danger.”
“I still don’t know why they’re going for the father, though. Seems to me, boss, that running would be much safer.”
“Money? Connections? Sentiment maybe. All three perhaps. Regardless, it is foolish. Every bounty hunter’s going to be looking in the Titus system. It’s the obvious place to start. And we weren’t the only ones to guess they might try to sneak in from Zayer.”
Faisal whirred his blades again. “They must not know Ambassador Vim disappeared after he somehow escaped from a cadre of Tekk Reapers. Maybe the father’s more than meets the eye. That might explain why they need him.”
Vega grunted. “You’re right. Run another background check on him.”
“Again, boss?”
“Maybe we missed something before.”
“I don’t miss things.”
“Do it anyway.”
Sparks flew off the sky-blade’s body. Faisal had to show when he was angry. It was never enough for him just to tell you.
“There’s got to be something, Faisal. A man like him doesn’t escape from the Tekk Reapers. Almost no one does.”
The Tekk Reapers… Many of Vega’s old android friends from the military had joined them in their quest to remake Benevolence. He’d tried to win them over to his cause instead. His was a vision for the galaxy that would actually be more compatible with their needs. But they had not seen what he’d seen. They had not had his…mystical experience.
“Gendin took a shuttle down to the planet, sir.”
“Launch deep space probes, search pattern delta. The Outworld Ranger is going to be somewhere in this sector, not far from here. Bouncing around if they’re smart, staying in hyperspace as much as possible while keeping close.”
“They’ll be in real space more often than not, boss. Silky can contact them when needed over a highly secure military channel. So they won’t need to have a prearranged meeting time and place.”
“Can you intercept such a message?”
“Only if we’re within ten kilometers of the sender or receiver, boss. Even then, I cannot guarantee it.”
“Take us into Zayer Prime, full speed.”
“We’re going after Gendin, sir? The girl’s worth a lot more.”
“But she’s harder to find if she’s bouncing around. If we can capture Gendin and then the ambassador, we can interrogate them for information and use them as bait to lure the girl in. She already made one mistake when she tried to contact her father. She’ll make another.”
Faisal bounced around the cockpit. “And when we catch them, I can grind Silky to a pulp with my blades. Yippeee!”
Vega made his way out of the cockpit and headed toward a small, secure chamber in the center of the ship.
Faisal floated along behind him. “Boss, are we going to pay the freighter captain a visit?”
Vega paused and considered it a moment. “It’s a waste of time. He can only tell us what we know already. Gendin and one other are here, and now we know they have access to a refraction cloak. Review our countermeasures against refraction. We haven’t had to deal with a high-powered cloak in almost a century.”
“I’m on it, boss.”
Vega continued. “I’m going to pray now.”
Faisal bobbed away singing. “Silky’s going to die, die, die. Silky’s going to die. Go to hell, Silky, go to hell, go to hell and burn.”
The door to the chamber opened. It would open only for him. Not even Faisal had access. Vega entered, and the door slammed shut behind him. The overhead light bathed the room in a deep red glow. There were no comforts, no decorations, and no furnishings, save for a steel pedestal on which sat a hand-sized, black cube.
Vega picked up the miniature stardrive and knelt. The glossy black surface was not unlike Faisal's. But the interior was entirely different. Inside was a mystery Vega could not begin to fathom, a mystery the Benevolence could create and use but only perhaps understand. It was a mystery only the Ancients and the Blessed Ones from Beyond had mastered.
He cradled the miniature drive in his hand. It could not transport him, not to hyperspace or wraith space or anywhere else. It could not open to echo space and serve as a communications relay or access flux space to power devices. It had no buttons, no displays, no relays. It would respond to only one stimulus: his voice.
For him, the cube served only one function. Why it did just this and nothing else, he did not know. It had been given to him without explanation.
Holding it close to his lips, Vega whispered his prayers and repeated his vows to the Blessed Ones from Beyond. The cube vibrated, a subtle glow of energy dancing across its surfaces.
The Blessed Ones from Beyond whispered back.
27
Oona Vim
Oona settled onto the car seat in the holding cell where they kept Lyoolee’s stasis pod. She closed her eyes and began a series of breathing exercises, starting with rapid, shallow breaths. As her heartbeat quickened, she focused her mind on her goal: contacting her dad. Then she deepened her breaths and reached out, first with her thoughts and then her emotions.
She pictured her dad’s face, from his perpetually stubble-covered chin to the goofy smile he got when telling a lame joke that only he thought was funny. She recalled the words they’d last exchanged, how he’d kissed her on the forehead and said he loved her. She thought of how much she missed him.
Nothing.
Worry crept in, strengthening her emotions but weakening her focus. She reached out in desp
eration…
Still nothing.
With her focus broken, she restarted her breathing exercises. This time she began with a calming sequence.
Restoring her concentration wasn’t easy. She was growing increasingly worried, and the last two days she had picked at her food and slept only a few fitful hours.
Every time she thought about her dad in wraith space, the mysterious woman’s features appeared more devilish and shrouded in darkness. Her instincts told her the woman couldn’t be trusted. That she wasn’t helping her dad out of kindness or devotion but for sinister motives.
Oona spent another hour meditating and trying to contact her dad, to at least sense if he was okay. But nothing came to her. She told herself it was because her powers were unreliable, that her focus was too weak. And while those things were true, it didn’t keep her from worrying that whatever her dad and the woman been running from might have caught up to them.
To make matters worse, she was also worried about Siv and Mitsuki. What they were doing for her and Kyralla… If something happened to them… She would never forgive herself. It wasn't fair to have asked them to save her dad, but then she couldn't have done otherwise either.
And her dad had said that he had significant new information. She couldn't explain why, but she had a hunch that knowledge was critical. Or maybe that was just an excuse to justify her feelings.
Oona stood. She couldn’t keep thinking about all of that. Otherwise, she’d drive herself crazy. And no amount of meditation was going to work while she was in this state. What she needed was a distraction, something to keep her busy for a few hours, preferably something that would tire her out so she could get a good night of sleep.
She circled through the Outworld Ranger’s main corridor, but after a few rounds, she grew bored seeing the same gray metallic walls and, to her, inexplicable instrument panels.
The confines were starting to make her edgy and irritable. She was used to not being around many people, having grown up in a life of seclusion. What she wasn’t used to was cramped spaces and drab furnishings, having enjoyed the lavish privilege and expanse of her wealthy uncle’s estate.
Here she felt cramped all the time. And there was nothing to see but the dark of space filled with distant flickering stars. No trees, no blue skies speckled with clouds, no ground.
The cargo bays were the largest sections of the ship, and they were hardly bigger than any of Uncle Pashta’s living rooms.
The lack of day and night made things even worse. She and Kyralla had gotten onto the same schedule so the ship could dim the lights during the “evening,” transitioning them into a dim, yellow spectrum to help their circadian rhythms. But if it was helping, Oona couldn’t tell.
Octavian had offered her doses of Calm and Sleep, but she had refused. She didn’t want to take anything that might affect her mental capacity, in case she got another random read on her dad or even one on Siv and Mitsuki.
And today was only her fifth day on the ship…
She dragged herself to the galley for breakfast. Oona plopped down in the first available seat. Seneca bustled in and set a bowl of what she could only describe as gruel on the table in front of her with at trill that meant “good morning.”
As with Octavian, she could now interpret him without needing Artemisia’s help.
“Morning.” Her polite reply was automatic, but no amount of etiquette training could make her say there was anything good about it.
“I’ve attempted a different spice combination, madam,” Seneca said. “Hopefully, it will make the rations more palatable.”
Oona scooped up a spoonful of the gray paste and shoved it in her mouth. It tasted different but not any better. She made a face and swallowed. Seneca waited patiently in the corner for the verdict, so she made herself eat several more spoonfuls. Despite Seneca’s best efforts, the food was beyond awful.
She sighed as she dropped her spoon into the bowl of slop. “Seneca, it seems I’m spoiled.”
“Surely, you are not,” Seneca bleeped in response.
“You are a bit spoiled, madam,” Artemisia said.
“Thanks, Arty.”
“At least you’re not a brat, madam.”
“Give me a few weeks on the ship, and I may prove you wrong about that.”
Oona dragged herself onto the bridge and dropped into the command chair. Kyralla sat at the pilot's station engrossed in something Oona couldn't see.
Kyralla had spent nearly all of her time now either at the piloting station or going over all of the ship’s systems in detail, so she could know how everything worked.
She was happy Kyralla had found something she loved doing. Having almost no chance of surviving past fifteen, Oona felt a lot better knowing Kyralla had found a calling that could give her a future. She would be able to move on and make a life for herself, perhaps joining Siv, Mitsuki, and Bishop on adventures throughout the galaxy.
Oona waited until Kyralla finished what she was doing and took the piloting circlet off.
“How’s it going?”
“I just finished a set of difficult maneuvers,” Kyralla said. She sounded downright cheerful.
Surprised, Oona sat upright. “Really? I didn’t feel anything.”
“I maxed the ship’s inertial dampening, so I wouldn’t disturb Bishop’s work. And I only did a few maneuvers at full acceleration. I’m practicing slowly, so I can build muscle memory and get used to cooperating the with the AI. It’s the same technique I used when I started learning martial arts.”
“It’s too bad you don’t have a simulation chamber.”
“It’s too bad I didn’t work on piloting when we had access to one. All I ever focused on was defending you in physical combat.”
“But that seems rather short-sighted now.” Kyralla gestured to the other stations on the bridge. “Look at all the skill sets we’ve got in play just here on this bridge.”
“You didn’t know,” Oona said. “It’s not like we had a manual for how to do all of this or other people we could trust for advice. We’re both underprepared.”
“I know,” Kyralla said. “It’s just… I’m your guardian, and combat skills only do so much good out here.”
“Your piloting has already saved us all, and you’re brand new to it. I have faith in you.”
Kyralla grinned. “That’s true. My abilities are perfect for piloting. But next time, I may not be able to skirt by on talent alone. That’s why I’m working so hard.”
Oona fumbled with the armchair. “Everyone but me has something useful to do.”
She tried not to sound like a petulant child but knew she hadn’t really succeeded.
Kyralla sighed. "You're too hard on yourself, Oona. You need to rest. Watch a movie, read a book, play some games."
Oona shrugged. “I guess. I’m just—”
An alarm sounded, a relentless dinging Oona hadn't heard before. A message inside a flashing orange box appeared on the bridge's view screen.
EMERGENCY DISTRESS SIGNAL RECEIVED
Reflexively, Oona stood and edged forward. Her first thought was that Silky was trying to tell them something had gone wrong or to warn them of impending danger.
SIGNAL DECODED
“Acknowledged,” Kyralla said.
The flashing box disappeared, and the alarm stopped.
A video played on the screen. A wild-haired young man with star-blue eyes and a baby face stared into the camera. Sweat dripped from his face. Grease dirtied one cheek. A burn scarred his chin. Behind him, intermittent showers of sparks illuminated a ship's bridge. A boom sounded, the man flinched, and the video blurred for a second.
“This is Federation research vessel Argos Alpha. We’re in the Kor system.” He spoke fast, his voice trembling with fear. “Our ship has sustained heavy damage after…” His voice broke up for several moments. “Request immediate assistance. We have injuries…casualties—”
Another boom sounded. Sparks cascaded through the bridge, and
a console in the back burst into flames.
“The ship’s structural integrity is failing. Life-support’s offline. We don’t have—”
The message fuzzed out then went black. The man’s voice returned amidst a rush of static. “Please help us!”
END TRANSMISSION
When the video started to repeat, Kyralla paused it. She turned to Oona, a tortured look on her face.
Bishop ran onto the bridge. “What was that?” He stopped and stared at the image of the young man on the screen. “Was that a distress signal?”
Kyralla replayed the message for Bishop then paused it again.
He cursed and flopped into the sensor station. “I’ll call up the ship’s credentials.”
“Send the data to us,” Kyralla said.
A second box appeared on the viewscreen showing Argo Alpha’s registry, its transponder signal, and its last known location—in orbit around the fourth planet of the Kor system.
“Do you think he’s still alive?” Oona asked.
Bishop shrugged. “All we can say is that some part of the ship is still there because their emergency beacon’s broadcasting.”
The three of them stared at one another, not knowing what to say.
“Arty, can you independently verify any of that information?”
“I’m already working on it, madam. So far, everything seems to be in order. I have no reason to doubt the research vessel is exactly what it claims to be.”
Oona conveyed that information to the others.
“Rosie agrees it’s the Argos Alpha and that it’s a research vessel,” Kyralla said.
“We have to help them,” Oona said.
“We can’t,” Kyralla said. “Just because the ship checks out doesn’t mean it isn’t a trap.”
“How can it possibly be a trap?” Oona asked.
“Bounty hunters could have hijacked the ship,” Kyralla replied. “Like Zetta did with the freighter.”
“They’d really be going out of their way to trick us into going to the Kor system,” Bishop said. “They’d have to assume that we’d do the right thing and that we’d get to the Kor system before anyone else. That would take careful timing and an assumption that we’d be in the area.”
Shadow Agents: The Benevolency Universe (Outworld Ranger Book 2) Page 20
