Assassin (The Revelations Cycle Book 11)

by Kacey Ezell

  Most pressing was what he had to do, to make their long-term survival possible. Stay on Khatash and ensure they had a home to return to, once the blood settled. Which he couldn’t do as Blade.

  And so Chirruch stalked the market, newly arrived from the deep jungle, the only Hunter of his generation from a small clan without off-world Hunters. Orange-striped and darkly spotted, alert and unfamiliar.

  And stalking.

  Whispering Fear kept their den near the starport city, which gave him plenty to go on. He could play the newly-arrived yokel, contained and staring without staring, which gave perfect cover for a hunt that had to go unnoticed among experts.

  “Weapons, fine sir?” A cheery voice called, a long appendage snaking out from a covered stall to catch his eye. “Something to outfit you for off-world perhaps? Or the closer confines of the city?”

  Blade paused, balancing the hesitation of a newly-arrived jungle Hunter with his own unwillingness to test his disguise so soon.

  “I have all the knives I need,” he said haughtily, boldly meeting the top row of the merchant’s eyes.

  “Ah, everything you need for a rousing run through the canopy, I’ve no doubt. Sharp edges, some energy weapons, a claw set I’m sure. But I have beauties to make you knock down a sepsi tree, eh? Come in, take a look at least.”

  Blade knew the merchant, as Fip had gotten Blade’s attention with a similar spiel when Blade’s first off-world contract had been looming, and the young Hunter was sure one more addition to his arsenal would make all the difference. It turned out the Sipset talked the usual patter and had the goods to make it worthwhile. Clever merchant or no, the multi-limbed trader could hardly have stayed in business on Khatash with subpar goods, but even among the city’s carefully curated merchant class, Fip had great, and sometimes extraordinary, merchandise.

  Any clan of note had Hunters who would buy from Fip, and if he made an ally of the trader—if Chirruch made an ally of the trader, he could cross paths with a member of Whispering Fear sooner, rather than haphazardly later.

  “I’m not looking to trade with a…” Blade trailed off, sure no deep jungle Hunter would recognize an atypical Sipset at first glance. Fip had been into body modifications long before Blade had been born and would likely be proud some half-trained Hunter didn’t recognize him. And when Fip felt proud, he was more likely to take a liking to a stranger, meaning Blade could cultivate a relationship all over again. It might take more time than Blade wanted, but every lead he could build was a step further than he had, and who knew which step would put him on the path to make his clan safe again?

  “Oh, no, my fine Hunter. Many a Depik has found exactly what he needed, from this old Sipset. I’ve been on Khatash for over twenty years, leaving only for the most exciting of vacation opportunities. You know how it is, when the familiar becomes, well, too familiar. The itch to travel, the drive to the stars, and of course the return to the rich earth of Khatash. All jungles and deadly encounters, only the best, wouldn’t you say? Take a look. I wouldn’t steer you wrong. Generations of Hunters have chosen my wares.”

  Visibly reluctant, Blade stepped closer to the tent, seeming not to notice the pleased way Fip’s tentacle-like limbs curled around the displays and pulsed comfortably. Sipset had no exceptional sense of smell, or fine registry of electromagnetic pulses. Not a single processing ability except visual that might betray a visiting yokel as the established off-world Hunter of Night Wind. It made him an excellent test case, and nothing of Fip’s manner indicated he had recognized anything of Blade here.

  It was a start.

  * * *

  Blade slept high in the canopy through the days, walking back into the city each late afternoon or dusk. Not a regular schedule, clearly exploring, wandering in the way of a Hunter new to the city with an undefined agenda. On the fourth day his persistence paid off.

  As he strode in the direction of Fip’s stall, he caught sight of a smoky gray Hunter stepping inside the stall. She had symbols shaved into her fur, but nothing that identified her clan. Her ease in the market indicated familiarity with the city. She had to be from one of a number of clans that sent Hunters through for goods.

  “Ah there he is, Chirruch! Still considering your next purchase, are you? Perhaps a long blade, for those leaping reaches?”

  The other Hunter turned her head, considered the new arrival, and tilted her head in silent welcome.

  “I have not decided,” he said, coloring his tone as one willing—but not eager—to be guided.

  “You can trust Fip’s judgement,” she put in, her front paw gliding gently over a well-ordered display of claw sets without touching them. “It took me some time to adjust, when I first started coming to the market.”

  “Is it that obvious I don’t know the city? I thought surely after four days I would blend with you starporters.” Blade ducked his head with the appropriate amount of deference for an unfamiliar female and allowed some measure of humor into his voice and bearing.

  “I greet you, Hunter.” She slow blinked at him once after the greeting and made a huff of amusement. “Very close,” she said, tail curling to show it was meant to be a gentle tease. “Just another day or two more, and I’m sure no one will know any differently.”

  “I greet you, Hunter,” he replied. He let her see his pretending to be relieved, and she made the amused noise again. They browsed in silence a bit longer, Fip calling out to passerby, confident enough in earning a sale from each of the Hunters inside to call for more.

  “Good thing I’ll be here a while longer then,” he said into their companionable silence, lifting a folding weapon and admiring the fine craftsmanship. “Be a shame to come all this way and not learn to blend.”

  “Jungle, then?” she asked, looking him over again. “Let me guess. Southwest, deep in, Malluma Songo crops.”

  “Jungle, far north, mining contracts,” he said, slow blinking at her in turn.

  “Aah, so close.” She made a snapping noise, and they both smiled. “Well? Where do you place me?”

  “Hm. City raised, off-world Hunter, dips into the jungle for fun.”

  She flipped her tail at him, clearly entertained. Fip pointed a series of eyes at them, then away, evidently as amused by the pair of them as they were with each other.

  “One out of three, jungle boy. I hope you have better luck in your city endeavors ahead.” She shifted the claw set she’d slipped over her left paw, studying it. “This one, Fip.”

  “Already charged your account, Ichys.”

  Another slow blink, and she waved the additional metal claws over her own at Blade.

  “Fip has given me away. I was going to leave you wondering, make you find me in the market later.”

  “Chirruch, Deep Night.” He dipped his head to her again. “Now we’re even. Or close to.”

  “Whispering Fear,” she said with an overdone sigh, giving him her clan name in answer to his hint.

  An electric charge zipped from the tips of his ears to the end of his tail. If Fip or Ichys noticed the slight shiver of motion, they’d attribute it to his obvious interest in Ichys, not the sudden discovery of a target.

  The hunt had clarified.

  * * *

  He and Ichys met for a meal here, browsing there, and after another two days, a hunt together in the jungle outside of the city.

  It was an excuse to show off for each other, lounge on branches as wide as a room, use any excuse to chase each other through levels of the canopy. There would be a kill, of course, but this chase was more interesting to both of them, and they gave only a fraction of attention to stalking of prey.

  “Dama had only me,” he said, his tail curling loosely around hers as they ostensibly surveyed the tangle of vegetation below them. “There have been no kitas since she was young, and no other kits. One by one over the years, Hunters went into the jungle…”

  She didn’t need him to finish the sentence. Deadly as the Hunters were, they were not the only predator
s in the jungles, and even they could fall astray. Instead she leaned slightly closer to him, the edges of her fur brushing the very tips of his, the feel of electricity between them.

  “Contracts then, and trade.” Not quite a question, but a gentle prod.

  “Or another clan.” He said it low, reluctant. Clans ended and began all the time, Hunters needing to find advantageous positions and more fertile damas. It wasn’t rare, or a tragedy, but who would choose it, all other things being equal?

  “Your dama would accept that?”

  He glared down at the twisting nest of vines, as though willing some venomous creature to appear and challenge them. The silence settled around them, both comfortable and charged. Finally, he let the fur down his back ripple and audibly blew out his breath.

  “Yes. It was her suggestion. I could have roamed the jungle looking for other clans, but it seemed smarter to start at the city. I don’t know what I have to offer a city clan, but…”

  Her turn to be quiet. What Blade knew, but Chirruch couldn’t possibly, was that Whispering Fear had lost a sizable Malluma Songo crop recently, and a rising young off-world Hunter not long before that. Ichys could no more offer him a place in their clan than either of them could fly above the uppermost canopy line. But she could build a path toward such a thing, for him.

  “Where are you staying?” She didn’t look remotely surprised when he gestured around them; it made utter sense a deep jungle Hunter would feel comfortable taking his rest in what came closest to his home. “Our den is large—our clan is one of the oldest, and we have outlying warrens that aren’t the den proper, but in our domain. You can stay in one of those. Meet the other Hunters. Perhaps…it is not my place, but there is always room for someone strong and talented, who will work hard to further the clan. Perhaps Dama will see this in you and offer you a place.”

  He snorted but leaned his arm against hers. “If your clan is so large—how well do you know your dama?”

  “She is my Dama,” Ichys replied, the emphasis in her tone indicated that, like both Blade and ‘Chirruch,’ her dama had borne her. Given Dirrys had had two kitas survive to adulthood, there was every chance Ichys could prove fertile and be named Heir herself. Chirruch didn’t have that context, of course, but Blade felt satisfaction settle in his mind. He had no doubt he could prove himself, especially with Ichys as an ally.

  He would channel Flame, and hide so well they forgot he existed. He would listen. He would learn. And when he discovered proof that it was Dirrys, that Whispering Fear was to blame, and he worked out the why, he would tear them apart.

  Their clan would be destroyed, and any Hunter worth saving would be spared. Their den would be struck to rubble, their contracts traded away.

  With the blood lust rising in his mind, he didn’t notice how much closer he’d leaned to Ichys, and how comfortably she leaned back.

  * * *

  Death woke, disoriented. She inhaled, tasting the recycled air. A ship?

  Her ship. With Susa on board.

  Memory crashed in, and she opened her eyes to see her molly’s abdomen, encased in a shipsuit. Death stretched, noting the stiff, weak feeling in her limbs as she reached up toward the face of the Human who had raised her, loved her.

  And now, saved her.

  “How are you feeling?” Susa asked quietly. She bent her head and dropped a kiss between Death’s ears, and used one hand to stroke beneath the hinge of Death’s jaw. The other hand rested on the ship’s control yoke.

  “I see you reconfigured my ship,” Death said as she looked around. It sounded snappier than she meant it, but she didn’t want to think about how she felt just then. So instead she thought about trivialities. Susa just chuckled and continued to stroke her fur.

  Reow had given her the ship upon completion of her first contract. It had space enough for four Hunters, or one Human and a Hunter. The cabin area was designed to be as comfortable in close quarters as possible. Currently, Susa had toggled on the Humanoid control system, and she sat strapped in a semi-recumbent position that looked completely unnatural and uncomfortable to Death. Rather than the pressure-sensitive paddles she would have used, Susa had activated the half-wheel of the control yoke that extended “down” from the forward bulkhead toward the seat. In front of them, the panoramic viewscreens showed an unrelieved white void surrounding them.

  “We’re in hyperspace,” Death said. “Where are we going?”

  “Karma.”

  “Bit out of the way, isn’t that?”

  “It is, and that’s the point, my dear. Every Hunter in the galaxy will be looking for you. I’m hoping to hide you somewhere they’d never think to look.”

  “And where is that?”

  “My home. Earth.”

  Death blinked and slid her body back down in the zero gravity to a sitting position in Susa’s lap as she turned this concept over in her mind. Earth. It was certainly the back end of nowhere; that much was certain. Humans were such a new species. Most still considered them exotic savages, barely out of their own planetary orbit. Susa was known to some on Khatash, because she was the first Human pet to be sigiled by a clan. But no one ever asked where pets originated, and Reow had only ever said she picked her up on some space station.

  “All right,” Death said. “You have a plan?”

  “Sort of,” Susa said, leaning back in the couch so the security blanket that lay strapped over them both shifted along Death’s fur, causing prickles of static electricity down her spine. It felt like a portent.

  “And?”

  “Houston,” Susa said.

  Death waited.

  “Houston Starport is the biggest city on Earth. Or at least it used to be. It’s a galactic free trade zone, so we shouldn’t have any problems getting there, once we get to the Tolo Arm.”

  “And once we’re there?”

  Susa took a deep breath before speaking.

  “I brought approximately twenty thousand credits in chips and red diamonds with us. Earth is very poor, you understand. This is a fortune to them. Many fortunes.”

  “Will many fortunes buy safety for my offspring?”

  “I am hoping they will, if we can find the right seller.”

  “Such as?”

  “What do you know of Earth’s history, Death?”

  “Only what you have taught me,” Death said, swishing her tail impatiently.

  “You know Earth was first contacted by the Buma, but were then found to be a mercenary race after they attacked the MinSha guards traveling with the Union delegation, yes?”

  “I suppose,” Death said. “I’ve not had reason to pay much attention to Earth, except as needed to care for you, Susa.”

  “Well, this is important. We are a mercenary race. And unlike a lot of other merc races, Human mercs run the gamut of specialties. There is one company in particular, one of the survivors of the Alpha Contracts—”

  “Alpha Contracts?”

  “Humanity’s first mercenary contracts. Hundreds of companies went out. Only four returned.”

  “Oh! I have heard this story. They’re called the Four Horsemen, right? Cartwright’s Cavaliers, Asbaran Solutions, Winged Hussars, and—”

  “The Golden Horde, yes. The company that saved the production of ‘Galactic Guardians, Part Two.’”

  “You propose to purchase the services of the Golden Horde to protect me?”

  “If possible. From what I understand, they don’t keep much of a presence in Houston, but I suspect they at least have a small office. They’d have to, as it’s the major starport.”

  “How do you know these things?” Death asked, “You’ve never left Khatash, not since you came to live with us.”

  Susa laughed and stroked Death’s fur under the blanket.

  “I can read, Death. I know how to search the Galnet. As a race, I find you Hunters tend to be rather blind to anything that doesn’t directly affect you or the execution of one of your contracts. But we Humans are endlessly curious. I’ve
kept up with whatever stories I can find about Earth and my race. It seems…well. It will be an interesting ride for humanity, that’s for certain.

  “But in any case,” she went on, “That’s neither here nor there right now. What’s important is that Earth is way, way off the beaten path, and I think we’ve got as good a chance of hiding out there as anywhere. Marginally better, perhaps, since I know the territory. Or used to, at any rate. And we’ll be able to blend in.”

  “Of course,” Death said slowly as she warmed to the idea. “You won’t appear remarkable or special at all on your home planet, and I am modestly good at stealth.”

  “Thanks,” Susa said dryly. Death flicked her ears and grinned up at her in the Human style. “But I actually don’t think you’ll need your quintessential stealth all that much, to tell you the truth.”

  “Oh?”

  Susa nodded, and reached out with her left hand to tap a short command on the view screen interface. Immediately, the white nothingness vanished, replaced by a picture of a gargantuan Hunter.

  Or not really a Hunter, Death realized as she wormed her way up higher onto Susa’s chest so that she could see better. The resemblance was remarkable, though there were definite differences. The animal appeared to lack a hinged pelvis, so it wouldn’t be able to walk bipedally. Its paws had shortened, stunted fingers, and its head was rounder and proportionally smaller compared to the rest of the body. It was clearly a predator of some sort, though, as even in the format of a still picture, the creature’s intense focus shone through. It crouched, its orange- and black-striped coat blending into the tall grass that surrounded it. Its eyes were fixed steadily on something outside the frame of the scene, but Death had the distinct impression that whatever this strangely similar predator stalked didn’t live long after the picture was taken.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “That is Panthera Tigris,” Susa said. “Commonly known as the tiger. It is the largest species of feline predator native to Earth.”