by Adams, P R
“Well, I—” A blush ran through the kid’s light olive skin. He knuckled a nose that was a little too large for his face, then pursed his full lips. “Money isn’t everything.”
“It’s the only way to survive.”
“I…” The kid stared down at the table and ran a hand through wavy brown hair. “Will you at least keep me in mind?”
“Sure.” Riyun powered the tablet down. “One thing, though: We’ve had a bad run with people like you.”
“People like—?” Confusion and anger knotted the kid’s face.
“Hold it.” Riyun clasped his hands in front of him. He pushed his chair back with a soft squeak. “Your name.”
“Juns?”
“Tawod. We’ve lost two in less than a year.”
The kid snorted. “My name has nothing to do with it. I’m good at my job. I’ll be a good hire.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Riyun stood and waved toward the foyer, the brightest lit spot in the apartment. “I’ll be in touch.”
The kid clenched his fists, then stood and stiffly walked to the door, stopping when he opened it, as if he might protest one more time. Then he lowered his head and closed the door behind him.
Riyun sighed. “I hate interviews.”
He made his way into the darkened kitchen, which was just off the conference room. Lights flipped on, revealing Javika, who leaned against the bright white marble counter, arms crossed. He ignored her glare and opened the chiller. “Ugh. Couldn’t Kloss at least stock something halfway drinkable?”
She made the slightest sound when she pushed off from the counter. “We could afford nothing in there.”
“I know. It still tastes like shit.”
“Why do you not like him?”
Riyun took a can of the least terrible tasting of the beers and turned, trying to act like he was absorbed in the act of popping the lid. “Who says I didn’t like him?”
“You told him his name bothered you.”
“I told Tawod the same thing when I hired him. It’s bad luck. You don’t hire someone with the same name after losing someone like we did with Tawod.”
“Now you are superstitious?”
“I’ve always been superstitious.” He watched her out of the corner of his eyes and slammed the drink back. Like him, she wore civilian clothes, but hers looked uncomfortable—skintight, heavy, like she wouldn’t even be able to breathe in them. The top was a bright green that reminded him of jumba leaves, the shorts were sandy brown. When he wasn’t in the field, he liked to feel relaxed, and that meant well-worn pants and a loose shirt, preferably bright.
She helped herself to a beer, popping it with what seemed like dramatic emphasis. “We have had three applicants. Now is not the time to be superstitious.”
“I know.” He returned to the table and powered the tablet back on. “It’s just that we don’t have a job yet. We may not need an explosives expert.”
“He owns a gun? He knows how to shoot it?” She settled on the end of the conference room table, graceful, folding in on herself easily and resting her arms across her raised knees.
“That’s not the point. We hire based on expertise and the needs of the mission.”
She studied him over the crook of her arm, black eyes inscrutable. “You said there had been a job offer.”
“Sort of.” He flipped through the other applicants. Tawod had been the most promising of the group. The rest were inexperienced, and they all had the stench of desperation about them. Like me. “Anyway, it went cold.”
“What was it?”
“I didn’t get details. Something messy. Some sort of dustup between two big corporations. I think they wanted a hit, take out some executive and his family.”
She swirled the beer. “We will have to take such jobs. Our conscience will never know rest. Not when all we do is kill.”
“I was going to take it. Really, I was. Like I said, it went cold.”
“My people have their own network of contacts. The connections could bear fruit.”
“For even slimier jobs.”
“We are trained to do what we are ordered to do without asking questions.”
“Is that how your mother ended up getting killed?” Riyun immediately regretted the question. The pain on the graceful woman’s face… “Shit. I didn’t mean—”
The Biwali warrior uncoiled and returned to the kitchen. It seemed as if she left a trail of heat in her wake. Riyun stood, stammered, took a step—
Ding! Ding!
He plucked the tablet from the tabletop and searched through the messages to find what had alarmed.
“Well, whaddaya know…?” He chuckled as he read through the two messages that had come in.
Saw you’re looking for a hacker. I’m in the area for the next hour. Let me know if you’re still interviewing. Naru Gantly
A hacker.
No one had applied for that yet. Tawod had been popular. News of his death had left the community cold toward Riyun’s team. There was nothing new about that. All the smaller communities had their reactions to the loss of more well-known members. Riyun didn’t have the heart to let the news out that Tawod had ultimately killed himself with his overconfidence.
The second message was even more promising.
You still interested in the job? Insertion of recon team successful. Should know in a few hours mission disposition. Simple yes or no.
Riyun dictated the response: “Yes.”
He dictated a reply to the hacker: “We’re still looking. Appointments available for the rest of the day.”
Did that sound too desperate? It sounded too desperate.
He tried again: “We haven’t settled on a candidate yet. We can squeeze in an appointment by the end of the day.”
That one read less pathetic, more professional. He sent it, then headed into the kitchen. It was empty. He glanced up the south stairs leading to the rooms above. Javika would be up there somewhere, fuming, working off her anger with some of the crazy combat training she turned to for relief. He could let her cool off on her own, or he could try to talk her down. It was easy to appeal to her understanding that he was just an idiot; she’d learned that much in their time together.
Dammit.
He sucked in a breath and set a foot on the bottom step—
The doorbell rang.
The hacker? Already?
He hurried to the door, unsure what to make of such a sudden arrival. Was this promptness, or was it desperation?
When he opened the door, he had his answer: desperation. This Naru was a delicate flower—almost chubby, dressed all in black, a three-tone cropped hairdo that started out neon blue on top, faded to a dark purple, and ended with black around the bottom.
Her round face, which had been cute at first glance, twisted into a sneer. “We doing the interview here? In the doorway?” She shook a black jacket in her left hand, spraying the hall floor with rainwater.
“Come on in.” He stepped aside. “Although I have to tell you, I’m not sure I want to waste your time.”
She barreled past, dropping the wet garment on the foyer floor. “Nice digs. Doing the interview at that table?”
He picked the jacket up and hung it on a hook. “It’s a hardwood floor. You don’t want to get water all over it.”
“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting something like this.” She looked him up and down, one finger spinning a black metallic stud in a purple eyebrow. “You’ve got a…sort of a different reputation.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Nothing. It’s just, this looks like the sort of place one of the big researchers might live in.”
Riyun blinked. How could she possibly—
Of course. She was a hacker. “Yeah, a big researcher. We did a job for him a few years ago. He’s away on business and owed us a favor.”
She ran up the steps to the raised area and took the seat Tawod had been in. “So, I’m going to save you some time. Okay?” She turned in the seat to look him up an
d down again.
“Okay.” He took the seat he’d had with Tawod. “Maybe I can save you some time, too. We may not be looking for a hacker right now.”
“Mercenary units are always looking for hackers. It’s why you pay us such high premiums. I happen to know how much Tawod was making.” She put on an annoying smile that made her little, heart-shaped mouth seem large. “I’m going to ask for more, because I’m better.”
“I see.” Riyun tried not to grind his teeth. “You didn’t send me your credentials.”
“Yeah… See, the thing is, my credentials don’t give a good representation of what I’m capable of. I know what I’m doing. Like, for instance, I know the trouble you had on Odra Unt. The whole assassination of the governor? And the problems you ran into before that? All the people you pissed off? What was that—the Gryphon Brigade? All those decorations, and they drummed you out?”
She knew her stuff; that much was clear. “I’m not hiring a hacker who doesn’t have experience in the field. That’s what got Tawod killed. That and his ego.” Riyun arched an eyebrow at her.
“Oh, his ego was crazy. But he was hot.” Her big green eyes fluttered. “I can handle myself. I do it all the time.” Her whole body shook as she laughed.
“I—we don’t have a job yet.”
“That’s fine. I won’t actually charge you until, you know, we go into the field or whatever.” Her eyes darted around the apartment. “This guy Kloss? What’d you do for him?”
“Something we had to do. Something messy.”
She leaned across the table, eyes wide. “How messy?”
“Very.”
“Oh. Wow! Was it that research center that burned to the ground, like, five years ago? Was it that? I heard they’d stolen some—”
“We don’t talk about confidential jobs.”
“I knew it!”
“Me not talking about a job doesn’t confirm or deny it.”
“Okay. Well, I don’t own any weapons, but I’ve fired a few. And I’m a fast learner. Just give me whatever Tawod had, and I’ll figure it all out.”
A fast learner…? “You’re expected to bring your own gear.”
“Yeah, well…” She leaned far back in the chair, pulling her T-shirt up and exposing a soft belly. “It’s a new world out there. Change your expectations.”
Riyun’s eyes drifted to the kitchen and the stairs beyond. He didn’t have time for this nonsense. He needed to iron things out with Javika. “I think I have a good idea of your capabilities. We’ll be in touch.”
Naru frowned. “I’m not that easy to blow off…Lightning, right? That’s your call sign, or whatever?”
“It is.”
“And Tawod’s—he was Six-Pack? He had a gorgeous set of abs.”
“Yeah. Six-Pack.” Riyun stood. “I have your address. I’ll be in touch.”
She didn’t budge. “I think I want a contract. Now. If you look on your beat-up, old tablet there, you’ll see I sent you one.”
Riyun rapped a knuckle against the tabletop. “I’ll look it over. Later.”
“Why’d you get kicked out of the Gryphon Brigade?” She turned slightly in the chair, just enough to lock eyes. “It’s some sort of issue with this Major Kozmut? A real dick, right? I saw in a forum that you assaulted someone. Was it him? He left the brigade at the same time, right?”
“The interview’s over.”
“Fine.” She pushed back from the table. “But I’m telling you, you’re going to need me. You won’t find another hacker willing to hire on with you. Not after what happened to Tawod.”
Ding!
The tablet.
Naru swiped the tablet from where Riyun had left it. Her fingers danced across the surface.
He held his hand out for the device. “Hey, give that—”
“I don’t have to touch it to get in, you know. I’m wired. Your security on this sucks. This thing’s, like, three generations old. Your password’s a joke.”
He reached over her, but she stuffed the device between her breasts. He pulled his hand back. “That’s my—”
“I know what it is. And I know what this job is.” She flashed the tablet at him. “Suicide.”
“High risk, that’s all.” He took the device from her. “It’s the difference between an experienced mercenary and someone who’s never even fired a weapon.”
“Yeah? Well, the difference between someone who knows what they’re doing and someone who has some sort of death wish, is…” Her features contorted. “You need a hacker. Okay?”
“Not for a suicide mission, we don’t.” Was it a suicide mission? The money certainly mapped to one. “I’ll let you know if something better comes in. Maybe something involving lollipops and unicorns.”
She finally stood. “I-I know you’re hard up.” She slumped. “So am I. I’m actually good.”
“And you’re a kid.”
“I’m twenty-three. In a few months.”
How old had he been when he killed the first time? Seventeen? “You don’t want to do this.”
“I-I don’t have a choice.”
He looked the screen over again. The offer was clear. They would need a hacker. They would need a platoon, and all he had was an oversized squad. “If we get this job—”
“I’ll do anything. Show me how to use a gun. I-I’ll sleep with you.”
He held up a finger in warning. “Stop. Not in my squad.”
“Fine. Whatever. I need this job.”
Thunder rumbled beyond the huge window and lightning glowed inside the dark clouds. Riyun had always been called the calm at the center of the storm. It’s what set him apart. That and his speed.
And his loyalty.
Hiring a kid, taking her into what was sure to be a gory nightmare—was that something the calm in the storm would do?
But he could see in her eyes she was just as desperate as he was. And the cold, hard truth was, if he took his team in without a hacker, without as many guns as he could hire, they were all going to die. It would make more sense to risk Naru and this other Tawod if it meant saving his own team.
“I’ll be in touch.”
She shuffled to the foyer—slumped, sighing, not even slowing to put on her jacket. “Thanks.”
He shut the door behind her, then pulled up the contract she’d sent him. And chuckled. She really was asking for more than his previous hacker—twenty-five percent more.
She had guts. Riyun had to give her credit for that.
He looked up at the sound of steps on the stairs and hurried to the kitchen but stopped when he saw it was Quil.
The pseudo blinked his cold, gray eyes. “You had some sort of fight with Javika.”
Riyun’s guts twisted. What would she think of him hiring an unqualified kid? “Nothing important. Just a disagreement over blindly following orders.”
“Is there really something to argue over? If we fail to follow orders, we have no job.”
“Don’t confuse objectives and orders. There’s a big difference. Orders can be completely out of line, and there are many ways to accomplish an objective.”
Quil tilted his head and closed his eyes. It was what he did when he was confused. “When you bought me, was that accomplishing an objective by disobeying orders?”
“I didn’t buy you, Quil. You’re a human, same as me. People don’t buy humans. Remember that.”
“Yes. I remember. You…purchased my contract.”
“Right.”
“So, when you…purchased my contract, was that accomplishing an objective by disobeying orders?”
Riyun tousled the pseudo’s hair. “I didn’t disobey orders.”
“But Major Kozmut planned to execute me for the crimes I had committed.”
“You didn’t commit any crimes.”
“Piracy. Thievery. Murder—”
“All legal in war. So long as you’re a mercenary. You just happened to be running with an unrecognized organization. And you were following orders
.”
“That I should have disobeyed?”
“You didn’t know any better. And Kozmut should have known better, if he wasn’t a bloodthirsty idiot.”
That seemed to satisfy Quil. “This is something the others agree with?”
“You’re part of the squad. One of the family. And one day I’m going to get you full recognition as a human.”
“That would be…interesting.”
The pseudo took a beer from the chiller, studied the label, then held it out to Riyun. “Would you like this?”
“Nah. I’ve already had too much.”
Riyun walked back to the foyer, wondering what right he had to put his squad at risk. They believed in him. They trusted him. And he owed them every chance at success.
He sent a contract offer to the Tawod kid, then accepted the offer Naru had made. The job would be ugly, and the odds of survival…
The tablet dinged again. Then again.
Both had accepted their contracts.
Just like that, they were part of his family. He had an obligation that went beyond the financial commitment. He had an obligation to take care of them. To bring them home safe from whatever mission—
Ding!
Riyun checked the tablet again, hand shaking in anticipation.
The job offer…
Recon team eliminated. Complete loss. Mission abort. Best of luck, Lightning.
A heavy weight settled on Riyun’s chest: Obligations. Financial commitments. Family.
He had them all, but he didn’t have a job.
5
It seemed as if the storm would never pass. Riyun finished off another beer and grimaced as a sour belch rolled up from deep inside, settling like a burning sulfur bomb behind his eyes. He hated this crap, but he’d spent the last three hours getting drunk on it. Now, he felt ready to face the team.
The others were gathered in the sunken living room, idly inspecting the entertainment system or staring out the huge window. None of them wanted to present an apparent challenge.
Except for Javika. She had no problem challenging his authority.
When he struggled to set the empty metal can on the table, she closed her fingers around the container. “You have had enough.”
A shiver ran up his spine as the cooling system kicked on. “I guess.”
