Shadow of the Colossus

by Nicole Grotepas

  “No one’s fault,” Holly said, and laughed mirthlessly.

  “There’s always someone to blame,” Shiro said. “I vote Xadrian.”

  “I vote Shiro,” Xadrian muttered weakly.

  “We’re waiting for Grant, Trip. And his crew,” Holly said and took her seat beside the captain on the bridge. “Carissa will put the bay doors on a timer once everyone is boarded.”

  Soon the hatch opened and Grant and the rest of his crew trotted out. He waved for Carissa. The team aboard the Olavia Apollo watched, their collective breath held, as Carissa programmed the timer. The way things had gone, it seemed probable that something terrible would happen at any minute to stop them from boarding and leaving the tanker.

  But she boarded the ship and the Olavia Apollo made it out of the bay without trouble. The ship flew port of the Apollo, heading away from the destroyer ships that had attacked them.

  “Hold on to your seats,” Trip said, and flipped the cruiser. With the artificial grav on the cruiser, no one felt the change in orientation. Now the Apollo was facing the tanker. She engaged a forward thruster to send them backwards, away from the ship while they watched the SC destroyers flock to the bay of the tanker. “I want to keep my eyes on these ships. Will they come for us? Or is their goal the tanker? I wonder.” The Apollo’s captain mused. Without explanation, she shot some warning projectiles at one of the destroyers as it appeared to move toward them.

  “Trip, whoa,” Holly remarked. “We going to fight them?

  “We don’t want to draw their attention, do we? Have you been in combat before?” Grant asked. The rest of his crew had gone to the mess.

  “It’s fine,” Trip said. “They could have destroyed me already. I don’t think destruction is their goal.”

  But she was wrong. Two more ships appeared, their course directly on track for the Olavia Apollo.

  “They were coming anyway,” Trip said. “At least that’s what my ship tells me.” The Centau touched the flat interface of her controls.

  “Maybe,” Grant admitted. “We won’t know now, because you got trigger-happy.”

  “Back down, Grant,” Trip said. “I’m the captain of this starship.”

  “Can you just take them out, Trip?” Holly asked, shooting a glance at Grant. Trip’s response hadn’t seemed to faze him. “They began this, and now they continue to endanger us.”

  “Or run,” Odeon offered. “Recognizing that there’s more of them than us isn’t dishonorable.”

  “Agreed,” Shiro said, speaking over Xadrian who was moaning loudly. It’d always seemed like Xadrian would prove to be something of a weakling when it came to actual dangerous dealings.

  “We’re not running. That is the weak option,” Trip said, stretching her hands as though she were preparing for a fist-fight.

  Trip shifted in her seat, studied her console, then looked up at the screen where the two destroyers could be seen bearing down on them.

  Holly cleared her throat, seeing how this would turn out. Not good. First, it reminded her of that brush with destruction aboard a zeppelin so long ago. And now, she had much more to live for. Several of them were sitting on that very bridge with her. The rest were back on Kota, safe on that spherical satellite, protected by atmosphere and swathed in sunlight. The last place she wanted to be was aboard a potentially damaged ship, drifting aimlessly through the ether, caught, falling slowly toward whatever gravitational well caught them. “Look, maybe battle isn’t the best idea. Let’s ask the resident expert. Grant knows battle. Grant?”

  He cleared his throat, his staid gaze flicking between Trip and the view-screen. “Two of them. One of us. Fire some warning shots again, then turn and get the hell out of Dodge,” he said. “This is a small cruiser, I don’t care what guns you’ve got, we’re out-numbered.”

  Shiro began quietly musing over what that expression meant “get the hell out of Dodge.” In sotto voce, he questioned Odeon. Does the Yasoan know?

  Odeon responded with a simple the Yasoan doesn’t know. Why would the Yasoan know that human expression?

  Due to his anthropological curiosity, of course.

  Some expressions aren’t worth knowing.

  Ah, but this is a good one. Where is Dodge? Is it a city? Or, perhaps a club? Something like that? Maybe we should go. Sounds lovely, especially if one wants to vacate it quickly. Shiro laughed.

  The conversation continued. Holly shook her head. The situation was getting worse and those two doofuses were bantering about an obviously Old Earth expression. Holly narrowed her eyes at Grant, watching the former naval commander, wishing that it was his decision at the moment. Trip was an unpredictable Centau. Though she was stalwart and brilliant about things in her realm, this seemed to be outside it. It wasn’t often that one encountered battles in orbit around Ixion. That was apparently reserved for where Grant had once been stationed. Out at the edge of the heliopause. Where Yol’s light faded and non-humanoids skirted a boundary, trying to get into the system, to experience the magnificence of what the Centau had done.

  Apparently. According to Grant. Non-humanoids with space-flight capabilities. It didn’t seem likely. But why would Grant make that up? And why would Gabe believe him?

  “I know battle, Scotch,” Trip said, addressing Grant by his nickname. A move, perhaps, to take him down a notch. She murmured something in Centau under her breath, but she did what Grant said, firing four pulses of aether at each ship. Following that, the Olavia Apollo flipped, the ship gravity compensating, and she accelerated in the opposite direction of the Shadow Coalition destroyers.

  “Why are they following us?” Holly asked. “Xadrian?”

  “I don’t know, HD,” he sputtered, gesturing angrily at the view screen. When he realized their attackers were no longer in front of them, he motioned toward the rear of the ship. “They’re Shadow Coalition. Wipe out your enemies. Destroy the competition, quite literally. We stole their hydrantium, they want it back.”

  Trip cussed. “They hit us. I’ve got to do something else. You have a backup plan, Holly Drake?”

  “Nearest planet?”

  “Itzcap.”

  “Can you get us there? You know your ship better than us. Get us there? To the platform. They won’t fire on you there, right? If they do, they’ll risk getting shot down themselves by the inter-moon police.”

  “Here we come, Itzcap platform. You better protect my baby,” Trip put in the coordinates, the ship responded, and they cruised away.

  Soon the platform was visible, the unfiltered light of the sun and reflected light of Ixion glinting off the dome covering it.

  “They’ve gone. Unfortunately, my ship has damage. She’ll need to be repaired before I can leave. So you’ll have to stay here or get a zeppelin back to Kota.”

  “Forced vacation. Terrible idea,” Shiro said, his voice full of mirth.

  FOUR

  “This is precisely what I needed, Ms. Drake. A sunny vacation in an opulent resort. With the best Yasoan entertainment, courtesy of Odeon’s talented parents.”

  Odeon scoffed. “They’re not so talented.”

  “They’re the best, Odeon.”

  “That is their belief.” Odeon frowned, his face somber as he stared at the nearest wing of the Opal Resort, where they had retreated to while Trip saw to her ship on the Itzcap space platform. Several balconies faced the pool. People drank early afternoon cocktails and leaned over the bannisters of their decks, watching what was happening out on the beach and immediately below them, where Holly was seated. Beyond a barrier of green foliage behind them, there was the distant sound of waves crashing against the beach.

  “I’ve heard them. Their egos match their skill.” Shiro leaned back in his chair and stretched. The sunlight hit the soft brown of his cheeks. He loosened his bowtie, then, as though realizing he could remove it, he did just that. He also removed his bowler and set it on the table and scrubbed his fingers through his thick black hair. Beside them, guests splashed in the lu
xurious swimming pool. Trees with broad flat leaves arched across a narrow isthmus in the pool where a footbridge crossed it. An amorous couple leaned against the railing of the bridge, their heads close together as they conversed.

  Holly sipped a cocktail that Shiro had brought back from the poolside bar. It was sweet. Too sweet. But, she thought, when in Rome…

  Her thoughts drifted to the source of yet another vague expression, then danced away again. There was no time for idle thoughts. What the hell was going on with the Shadow Coalition? Trying to uphold her end of the bargain with Xadrian had been a massive disaster. The tanker was now gone. Xadrian was somewhere in the resort, seething still, as though it were Holly’s intention to get his pay-off stolen. Trip was back out on the platform, her ship being serviced and Holly knew she had no choice but to pay for the damage to the Centau’s ship, and on top of that, pay her extra to make up the difference she had lost in turning down whoever had chartered the Olavia Apollo. Money didn’t matter so much, but well, a girl had to eat. And pay for her living arrangements. Sure, she’d gotten a condo outside the expensive jade districts back on Kota, but it still cost her. And it wasn’t as though “Dave” had any new jobs for her, now that they’d gotten the child-slaves off the hydrantium mining station orbiting Ixion.

  So what next?

  She needed a large influx of money. And she had no prospects.

  “How’s your drink?” Shiro asked her.

  “What?” Holly asked, returning to the present. “Oh, it’s fine. Thanks. Delicious.”

  “You hate it, my dear, it’s written all over your face. But,” he said, raising a finger. His other hand was positioned on the shaft of the lionhead cane, which rested across their table, “you would never know unless you tried it. I’m doing you the favor of introducing you to the delights of mixed drinks. Beer and wine are not all there is, you know.”

  “It’s very sweet. You’re right. But it wouldn’t be my first choice.”

  “When did you last order something new? Something you didn’t know the taste of already?”

  The sun was hot on her legs. Her black trousers weren’t ideal for lazing in the sun. The nearby pool absorbed her attention—it would cool her off to jump in. She shrugged. “When was the last time you took a dip? Go ahead, Shiro, jump in.” She wished she could.

  “Alright Drake,” Darius said, suddenly, in her ear. “The Copper Nebula, a class B zeppelin will be leaving tomorrow, Itzcap Global Time at fifteen hundred hours. So,” he paused, figuring it out as Holly tried to calculate it as well, “you have a night there. You’ll need to be on the orbital platform at two in the afternoon.”

  He was quicker than Holly at mathematical and time calculations.

  “Book it. Though,” she groaned, “that’s so long to just wait.”

  “Forced vacation. We need it,” Shiro said. “You never take a vacation, Ms. Drake, except for that time you vanished to the north and nearly got yourself killed.”

  Holly gave him a look. “That was business.”

  “Booking it now,” Darius said. “How many? Trip’s not going. She’ll come back when her ship is fixed. Grant. His crew. You lot, my crew. That it, then?”

  Shiro sighed. “Don’t forget the flamboyant Xadrian. The cause of all our current grief.”

  “Got it.” There was a pause, and then Darius said, “You’re all in. Best not miss it. There’s not another for three more days.”

  “I think I’ll go see my grandmother now that we’re trapped here,” Odeon said. “I prefer not to see Socrates and Athena.”

  “Your parents?” Holly asked, squinting against the sun that had crested the ring of trees lining the pool.

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  “That’s up to you, Odeon, of course.”

  “We have hours here, then.” Shiro rose. “I’m going to buy swimming trunks. Anyone else?”

  Though it sounded tempting Holly turned it down. “Not for me, Shiro, thanks.”

  “Hey girl!” Charly’s voice said, startling Holly, who jumped in her seat and cursed.

  “Charly,” Odeon said, smiling. It was the first time he’d smiled since arriving on Itzcap. Shiro excused himself. Holly sipped her drink again. It was sweet, but it was also cold. “You are a voice for worn ears.”

  “Thanks Ode,” Charly said. “Happy to hear your voice too. What a day, right?”

  “We’re ok. That’s all that matters.”

  “Look guys, we’re gonna need some money. I’m laying here in my bed, beginning to fall asleep, thinking about this job I heard about.”

  Holly sat forward. “From who?”

  “Doesn’t matter who,” Charly said.

  “Of course it does,” Holly said.

  “Well, fine, then. A Centau. But that’s all you need to know.”

  “Centau always work in government. Except Trip. And maybe a few others. So, I’m immediately suspicious, Charly,” Holly said, sitting back and grabbing her cocktail for another long drink.

  “I’m sick of the jobs we’ve been doing. We need this. Something to spice it up. Real money, bitches,” Charly said.

  “I’m in, whatever it is, if there’s money,” Darius said over the earpiece.

  Holly exchanged a look with Odeon. His smile had faded and he seemed worried.

  “I think I can safely say, chaps, that I am also in. You know how my morals work.”

  Holly resisted the urge to say something negative. She couldn’t really fault any of them for looking out for number one, but—still not knowing what the job was—she did know that she wouldn’t just barge into a position that violated her own code.

  She sighed, sipped her drink, and glanced around the resort. It was opulent. Luxurious, even. “What’s the job? I won’t steal money. I’m not your boss. You can choose for yourselves. But you know my rules.”

  “It’s not stealing money, Hols,” Charly said. Her voice lowered to a conspiratorial tone. “Get this. It’s to steal back a small marble statue. It’s famous. Called Muibaus’s Might. Ok? So it’s this nude male statue of a guy holding Ixion on his back. Worth millions. I have a buyer too.”

  Holly ran her finger around the rim of the tall thin glass. “You said it was ‘stealing back.’ If it’s stealing back, how do you have a buyer?”

  “Ok, so I lied about that part. It was technically stolen from someone else. So it is kind of stealing it back. It’s just that then we’re selling to the highest offer.”

  “Charly, I’ve heard of this statue,” Shiro said, from somewhere in the resort. From his end of the earpiece, Holly could hear the roar of waves. She looked around for him, but the beach was largely concealed by the natural barrier of island trees. “How is it that you heard about this job?”

  “I explained that already. A Centau. He works with the government sort of, but he’s not a bureaucrat. He’s a sometime thief himself. Plays both sides.”

  Holly stood and stretched. The heat was beginning to get to her, and she was starting to regret not asking Shiro to snag her something to swim in. “And did he ask you to get it?”

  “Maybe. But then as I was looking into the job, I heard about a buyer. Who will pay much, much more for it. Sounds perfect, right?”

  “So you know where the statue is?”

  “Yeah. The Centau told me. He’s been scoping it out for months.”

  “This seems…more dangerous than normal,” Shiro said. “If a government official is involved.”

  Holly buckled. “Shiro, would you mind getting me something to swim in? You’re still shopping, right?”

  “With pleasure, Ms. Drake. Please, no need to tell me your size. I think I can get that right. I’ve been buying clothes for ages.”

  “Damn, you guys. This is one billion percent unfair,” Charly said. “I’m about to sleep, but you’re all about to have a swim.”

  “You could too, Charly, if you’d nearly just risked your life for a tanker full of hydrantium. Thank you, but no,” Darius said. “I’d rather
not swim and still be alive.”

  Odeon rose. “Whatever Holly does, I’m with her.” He caught Holly’s eye and gestured to the nearest resort building. Holly cocked her head at him as though to ask what he meant. The Yasoan pulled the small oval communicator out of his wide black trousers, tapped a button, and then looked at Holly. His Ousaba rested on his shoulder, held there by his other hand. “I’m going to speak to my parents. I’m honor bound to. Then I’ll be back. Later, I will go see my grandmother. Would you come with me?”

  She hadn’t muted her own mic, so she just nodded and flashed him what she intended to be a reassuring smile. He returned a grin before beginning a slow meander around the pool. Holly could see the stress in the angle of his brow and the tilt of his head as he walked and watched people frolic in the pool. Odeon crossed the small footbridge, passing the amorous couple who had now begun to nuzzle into each other’s necks.

  Holly felt a stab of worry for her friend, but he was on his own in this one, just as she would be if she had had to face Graf were he alive, or her father—who she hadn’t spoken to in ages. She told herself they would have time on the drive to his grandmother’s cafe—a place she remembered fondly—to discuss what was troubling him. She could tell anyway—the fact that they had even come to Itzcap forced him to pay a visit to his parents. Nothing had been reconciled with them. Holly imagined Odeon would visit his rooms, and dress into the clothes befitting a traditional Yasoan son. Though Odeon was anything but. His parents had that sort of affect on him.

  “Holly?” Charly’s scratchy voice came over the earpiece.

  “Sorry. What?”

  “You alright, girl?” Charly asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I was just telling you that the job is fine. Doesn’t go against your code. Tell her, Darius.”

  “Charly’s mostly right, Drake.”

  “Throw me under the train, Darius, thanks! What do I have wrong?” Charly yawned audibly.

  Holly sat back down and finished her drink. “I don’t think I can do it. Sounds like stealing. Not my cup of tea,” Holly said. She gritted her teeth—she needed the money. Her bank account was draining quickly. Dave had nothing for them. And now it was her one line of work. Had the crew. Had the headquarters. If only it were a job that she could accept.