Heist

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Heist Page 6

by Ell Leigh Clarke


  “Security software?” Bentley asked. “Is that what we’re actually after, or just what we need to get there?”

  “I have not been given that information either,” Blackfriar replied. Bentley wasn’t sure she believed him. “Suffice to say, retrieval of this software does not conclude the overall mission nor our alliance, so it is either a means to a new goal or a piece of the final goal.”

  “This keeps feeling more and more like a Fed trap,” Ivor grunted. “Keeping us in the dark even while we’re out risking our fucking necks.”

  “What we’ve been presented with is challenging, without a doubt,” Blackfriar agreed. “Some patrons of Thralldom remain on the initial level for years without ascending, and of course we don’t have that kind of time to spend on this operation. We all have places and plans we would rather attend to.”

  Ivor smiled now with a kind of wild confidence. “So you need two of us just to play some games?” he said. “Sounds too easy, if you ask me. May as well leave the girl behind. You’ll just slow me down anyway.”

  “If someone’s staying behind it ought to be you,” Bentley snapped back at him. “As I recall, father dearest was all scared of putting his baby boy at risk. Maybe you should just go home and let me handle it.”

  “No,” Blackfriar cut in over Ivor just as the fire in his eyes showed he was ready to shout something back. “This mission cannot be performed alone. It will require the operation of all of you. All three of you.”

  “Wait, three?” Bentley noted. She looked around the room. “Him, me, and… Barney?” She looked towards the elevator for Barnabas, but didn’t see any sign of him.

  “I will be accompanying you on this mission.” A gentle-sounding, sing-song male voice spoke from the space at the table directly between Bentley and Ivor.

  Bentley jumped in surprise.

  Ivor reached for his weapon while he turned to the voice. “What the fuck?”

  A handsome young man stood before them. He was perhaps within a few years of Bentley’s age, though with especially youthful features and well-combed blonde hair. He had the same polished perfection common amongst the crew of the Odysseus, but somehow it seemed different. More natural. He completely lacked any of that strange out-of-place air that the others had. The way he held himself, all the way down to that slight, impish smile on his face that straddled the border of charming and arrogant, it all felt natural.

  Of all the people on this ship Bentley had met, she couldn’t believe this one was an android. Though if she’d been told he’d come from another world, like Shango and the others claimed of themselves, she might have found that plausible. He seemed otherworldly, but very much human. Did the Odysseus keep both humans and androids on board? She was uncertain. Though Shango had described the ship as having an android crew, he hadn’t specified that it was exclusively so.

  The disarming smile on the young man’s face turned from Bentley over to Ivor. “Please, don’t draw your weapon. That would go… quite badly.” There was a twinkle in his eyes at the ambiguity of the statement.

  “Yeah it would,” Ivor answered. “For you.” Nonetheless, he took his hand from his sidearm.

  The android took a slight bow. “I am called Svend. I look forward to working with the both of you.”

  “Svend is perhaps the most exceptional member of my crew,” Blackfriar told them. The down-to-earth seriousness of the way he said it made it clear this wasn’t simple praise or flattery, but merely something he meant to present as simple fact. “He will prove more than competent when it comes to complementing both of your talents in completing this task.”

  “The captain exaggerates,” Svend said, though not with an air of feigned humility that might accompany those words. “But I won’t slow you down.” The twinkle in his eyes as he spoke made Bentley certain he was hinting he’d been present for all of this meeting.

  Ivor seemed to have picked up on this, too. “So, what? He can turn invisible or something?”

  “I’m guessing he just goes unnoticed,” Bentley said, echoing Olofi’s earlier claim. Though she couldn’t imagine someone like Svend managing to stay beneath anyone’s notice. Then again, Olofi didn’t exactly strike an inconspicuous figure, either.

  Svend turned his head to Bentley. The way he looked at her made her feel like they were sharing some kind of private joke she didn’t yet understand. “Something like that,” he agreed with her.

  Ivor snarled. “Either way, if you sneak up on me again, it’s going to go badly.”

  Bentley couldn’t help ribbing him on this and used his own words. “Yeah it would,” she said, cheerily, catching another glance from Svend. “For you.”

  The wide window of the captain’s deck began to show more than the blackness of deep space, now. There was a great glowing pyramid that matched the model on the table before them. It quickly grew in size until its high walls made up the entirety of the viewing deck’s purview.

  “We’re getting ready to dock now,” Blackfriar said. “If you’ve any final preparations to make, I suggest that you make them.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Thralldom Space Station, Edge of Klaunox-Orion Sector

  The entry level of Thralldom station was an extravagantly gilded affair. The moment they set foot off the Odysseus, they found themselves walking on translucent ground that glowed like holographic viewscreens. Bentley had to step carefully, unsure if it would come to solid ground. When the soles of her shoes touched this surface, it gave off colored ripples, as though she was walking on strange water. Pathways of light beamed across ahead of her steps to lead her to the casino’s entrance proper. The actual gates were massively high, golden double-doors that opened outward with enough of a span to easily let in the crowds of well-dressed patrons gaining first access to the establishment.

  Bentley whistled appreciatively. “Well, shit,” she muttered. “I wonder what the third floor’s going to look like.”

  Svend smiled back at her as he moved ahead, leading the trio towards the gates. “Well, we’re just going to have to find out, aren’t we?” he said.

  Ivor didn’t look nearly as impressed. He glanced back and forth at the patrons ahead and the lavish display of wealth. “This whole place reeks of Federation cash. Built off the broken backs of work-worlds at cannon-point.”

  Bentley kept her voice low to answer him. “Might wanna keep the glorious revolution talk to a minimum while we’re in the casino.” She quick-stepped herself closer to Svend’s side. “I have a feeling it won’t go over so well.”

  Bentley didn’t look back, but she could hear Ivor’s sneer in his voice. “If I wanted your advice on how to do my job, I’d fucking ask for it. And that’ll be a cold day in hell.”

  Bentley opted to ignore him, instead glancing at Svend. The young man gave her a wink, again as though there was something unsaid between the two of them.

  They arrived at the guard station at the front of the gate.

  ‘Guards’ perhaps wasn’t the best word to describe the three impeccably dressed casino employees who stood to greet them. Even ‘bouncers’ didn’t feel right. They didn’t look on with suspicion, and none of them appeared to have any weapons to speak of. They seemed more like hosts, even though gatekeeping was ostensibly their reason for being there.

  The line moved quickly, and they found themselves immediately behind a group of well-dressed, handsome men who approached the security checkpoint to submit to scans. Very quickly, one of the host-guards turned his amicable smile to a cold, yet still professional frown. “I’m sorry, sir. Artificial lifeforms are not permitted as guests here at Thralldom.”

  “What?” the prospective guest protested. “This is bullshit. We’re entitled to the same rights as any paying customer here.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the host said with a firm politeness. “This is a deep space station not beholden to the general charters. Furthermore, we are a private business and reserve the right to refuse service to any customer for any reason.


  The android man turned around in a huff, taking a drag from a cigarette. He locked eyes with his friends. “Fuck this place. Don’t want to throw my volts at a bunch of bigots anyway.”

  Ivor grinned at Svend like he’d just found the imperfection he’d been meticulously searching for in him. “Looks like you’re fucked, blondie,” he said. “Guess we’ll meet you on the other side when this is done.”

  Svend kept his cool, carefree smile. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He was the first to step forward to submit to the hosts’ scans. It went very quickly, with one of the men just holding a device out to him for a few moments before ushering him towards Thralldom’s gates.

  Ivor looked dumbfounded. “The fuck?” he said.

  “I guess he’s human,” Bentley answered him. She felt a pride in her instincts having been right.

  Ivor’s expression changed to one of absolute disgust. “What kind of human would want to be on a ship full of alfies?” he asked. “Sick son of a bitch.”

  Bentley glared at him. “Wow, you’re a real charmer,” she said before hurrying on to be the next to submit to a security check.

  The host that came to greet Bentley was a tall silver-haired woman in a sequined dress. She had golden eyes that suggested she likely wasn’t human. She held a small device in the palm of her hand that she pressed with her thumb. It let out a scanning light that met Bentley’s eyes to interact with her corteX.

  Jelly Bean’s voice came in on Bentley’s improvised audio feed. “Don’t worry. The false identities we’ve been provided should be enough to fool any of their scanners.”

  Even with this reassurance, Bentley felt slightly nervous while the woman amicably stared at her and awaited the completion of the scan. Once it was over, she gave a nod and took a single step aside, saying, “Welcome to Thralldom, Miss Merriweather. We hope your stay is one of ascending prosperity.”

  Bentley stepped past the woman, only looking back momentarily to see that Ivor had also passed his checkpoints. Once she’d walked a safe distance out, she whispered low enough that it could only be heard by Jelly Bean in her ear. “Really? Miss Merriweather? Couldn’t have come up with a better name?”

  “The Merriweathers are a large family of landowners on the outer Dracon system,” Jelly Bean explained. “Their generational wealth is enough that they have over five thousand heirs. To the end of falsifying credentials of a wealthy socialite, they were an excellent choice.”

  Bentley didn’t answer her, partly because she didn’t want to arouse any suspicion by seeming to talk to herself, but mostly because the interior of Thralldom was every bit as impressive as its exterior, and in many ways more so. It was a large, open-air room with low light, illuminated primarily by the flashing holographic tables of various games occurring across its expanse. Some games had automated holographic hosts, while others were attended by humans who eagerly attracted wealthy patrons towards their tables.

  Bentley noticed Ivor coming up next to her. “Look at all these assholes,” he grumbled. “Guaranteed I can get to the next floor before either of you.”

  Svend appeared between them with the natural subtlety he seemed to incorporate into everything he did. “It’s probably better that we try to advance together,” he said. “If we become separated, we’ll be putting ourselves at a clear disadvantage.”

  Ivor waved off his companion’s counsel. “If you’re so worried about it, then you should keep up. But I’m not waiting on any dead weight.” He turned his back to the two of them and almost bumped into a server holding a tray of drinks. She initially looked like a lithe woman with a shaved head, but when Bentley got a look at the flickering energy in the back of her eyes and the metallic shine of her head, she realized she was also an android.

  Ivor didn’t apologize or get out of the android woman’s way. Rather, he widened his stance and made himself larger to further block her movement through the casino. Then he reached for the tray to grab one of the blue-glowing tumblers from it. “Thanks,” he said to her, in the least gracious way Bentley could have imagined. While he took a sip from the glass, he sidestepped to remain in the server’s way while she attempted in vain to navigate around him. “You know, this floor is fucking dull,” he continued, demanding her attention. “I was told this was a spot for high rollers. So why don’t you just cut to the chase and take me to the real fun?”

  “Sir,” the android woman said with polite urgency. “I am unable to accommodate such a request. If you wish to advance, please seek out a sponsor.”

  When she tried again to move away, Ivor grasped her tray-holding arm to stop her, meeting her eyes with unyielding persistence. “Bullshit,” he said. “If you try and give me the run-around, your bosses are going to be pissed at you, believe me. You can be my sponsor.”

  “Sir, I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” the server insisted, though not struggling against his grip, likely not wanting to risk spilling the drinks on her tray.

  Bentley groaned at the scene Ivor was making. She hadn’t even begun to work the room and already he was making things more difficult for them.

  Svend leaned in towards Bentley and spoke without looking at her. “We may have a problem,” he said, nodding in the direction his gaze was cast. Bentley looked towards what he was referencing, and saw that one of the well-dressed men who had greeted them at the doorway was making his way towards Ivor, though he was quite clearly looking at all three of them. More than that, he had two large men in tow who very much did look like bouncers: tall, square-shouldered figures in white masks with gloved hands that, from the metallic flash of their wrists beneath their suits, appeared to be cybernetic.

  “If we get kicked out in the first three seconds, I fucking swear…” Bentley cursed under her breath at the approach. When she glanced back at Ivor, she could see things weren’t improving on his end.

  Then there was a loud cheer from the table to her right, and Bentley’s instincts made her immediately look to any source of distraction. There was a man in a gold-tasseled white suit casting dice. He’d rolled a seven, and a large share of holographic chips combined themselves before integrating into a single one that he plucked up off the table. “Let it ride,” the man said confidently, flashing a pair of gem-capped teeth when he smiled widely.

  “A high roller,” Svend hissed with just enough volume that she could hear him through the crowd’s enthusiasm. “Just what we ought to be looking for, don’t you think?”

  Bentley agreed, but rather than saying so, she instead decided to take action. She pushed through the growing crowd that was convening around the gambler’s table, slipping between bodies and nudging aside others just enough that she could pass freely while ensuring nobody became defensive about it.

  Within seconds, she’d placed herself right beside the high roller at the table in time to watch him cast his new roll. Just as the dice began to tumble into their final resting place, she placed a hand on the man’s arm. He glanced over at her momentarily, but soon had to turn his attention back to the new seven that had appeared as the sum of his two dice. There was another enthusiastic uproar that was deafening around them, and Bentley leaned in closer, actively emulating the way Svend had managed to let his words slip through the sound earlier when he had spoken to her. “Great throw, baby. We must be lucky, huh?”

  The gambler turned to her fully now, smiling even wider to show her the mouthful of shimmering, multicolored jewels in his upper row of teeth. “Well, look here,” he said. “I knew lady luck was with me tonight, but I didn’t know she was going to be so pretty.” His arm slid from her gentle grasp, only for him to put one of his hands over hers.

  The dealer at the table came up to the man from his other side. “Mister Harkness, I must congratulate you. Your stunning luck has brought you an invitation to the next level of Thralldom. This is truly an exciting development.”

  “Not for me, it isn’t,” Harkness said, clearly pleased with himself even while he
tried to sound like it was beneath him. “But let’s see what kind of fun’s to be had upstairs.” He looked back at Bentley and tugged at her wrist. “That is, if lady luck’s coming with me.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t possibly leave you now,” she answered. Bentley thought of Jade when she put on her best fake smile of admiration towards the man. Whatever Harkness wanted to call her, she certainly felt lucky now.

  She looked away for a moment to try and find Svend without letting herself look disinterested in her newfound patron. To her relief and somewhat to her surprise, she found him standing right beside her, as though he’d been there the whole time. She motioned over to him with her eyes and reached for his hand, then spoke to Harkness. “But this luck comes in pairs. You wouldn’t make me say goodbye to the other half, would you?”

  Harkness looked Svend up and down, taking in his whole measure, then shrugged as though satisfied. “Far be it from me to begrudge the kinks of a beautiful muse,” he said. “I’ll be taking the pair of you.”

 

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