Hands of the Colossus

by Nicole Grotepas

  “We’re already getting more information about the Shadow Coalition’s drops. Nothing solid yet, but it will mean that you could potentially have two to three drops to bust per week.”

  “So my near-death in the near-vacuum of space was nearly worth it?”

  He turned to look at her, one thumb under a suspender, a tumbler of the same honey-brown liquid Holly was sipping in his other hand. He always looked like a pompous ass when he did that with his suspenders. “I’ll be honest, Holly, it was a reckless decision, but I understand it. Neither of us want a casualty on your hands.”

  “I’m sorry, a what?” Holly blinked.

  He cocked his head to one side. “Don’t start with me.”

  “A casualty? On my hands? Casualty,” she repeated. She took one big swig of her bourbon, finishing it off. “That’s a safe word. Distant. It puts some nice padding between you and the death of one of my friends. As well as your choice of pronoun: your. Me. Mine. Holly’s hands.”

  He pulled back his desk chair and sat down again, placing his drink on his desk. “Here we go.”

  “Also, if my rescue had failed,” she continued, ignoring his comment, “you’d have two deaths on your hands. Anyway, my reckless decision was the right decision given the moment. And I’d do it again, because I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if Charly had died on that stupid moon, planting your stupid transponder taps.” Holly placed the empty glass on the end table near her hand. She put it down a little harder than she’d meant to and the ice clinked loudly and the sound of the glass colliding with the table rang through the room. The official sighed and shook his head.

  “I should stop letting you have drinks in my office.”

  “Yes, when will you learn?”

  “You’re invited to turn down a drink any time you like.”

  “I usually don’t.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  She flashed a glare at him. Sometimes she didn’t like him at all. She reminded herself that she was here for two reasons: the children and the money.

  And . . . sometimes he wasn’t so bad, honestly, even though he regularly pissed her off. Plus she knew his dirty secret: his son had been kidnapped because the official had been dirty. For a minute. When he changed his stripes, the Shadow Coalition hit him where it hurt. Blackmailed him. Took his boy, tried to manipulate him.

  Even if he’d been a dirty government official, kidnapping his child was fucked up. And now he was getting back at the bastards. He had sources. He had ways to know where the cash drops happened, and he sent Holly and her crew in to disrupt the cash flow.

  “We’re going to have to stop meeting,” he said, sighing again and rubbing his eyes. He finished, put his chin on his balled up fists and stared at her across the desk. His eyes—dark blue, Holly noticed for the first time—looked tired.

  Why did she notice that? Better question, why hadn’t she noticed before? “These meetings are important for me.”

  “Are they?” He grinned behind his fists. Holly only saw the lines form beneath his cheeks and the crow’s feet grow at the corners of his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “So I can make you see how hard I’m busting my ass, and putting myself in danger for this.”

  “Of course, I know that already.”

  “If we stop meeting, how will you tell me about the jobs?”

  “Xadrian will do that.”

  “Really? Xadrian?”

  “He’s done a fine job in the past.” The official put his hands on his desk and leaned forward.

  “We have the transponder tapped now. We should be able to clean this up quickly.”

  “We still can do that. With four, it would have been quicker. With three taps, there will be delays.”

  “It was an act of god,” Holly said. “I did the best I could in just saving Charly. Three will have to work. So when do I start listening in to get the drops?”

  He blinked and sat back. “Holly, dear, that’s not going to be your job. I have someone else tagged for that.”

  “Did you just call me dear?”

  He nodded, a slight grin forming at the corner of his lips.

  “Don’t, please. Who is going to listen in?”

  “None of your business, would be that answer. I need to keep my teams separate, in case something unforeseen happens. Then you’re not both in danger.”

  “And you can replace me if that happens.”

  “I’d not put it that way. But yes. This job is bigger than you or me.”

  “But mostly me.”

  He frowned and spun in his chair to look out the window. “Let’s not have this discussion.”

  “Why not? I like discussion. I already had my time avoiding conflict, scared of it, cowering before a mighty man with a giant fist that he wasn’t afraid to use on me.”

  “Holly?” He didn’t turn. He kept his gaze focused out the window, out at the towering spires of the Green Jade district.

  “Hmm?”

  “I don’t hit. Anyone. Take it easy, please.”

  Holly stood up and went to the window. She felt movement at her side. In her peripheral vision she saw him stand up and begin to hover beside her, his face toward the window.

  She sighed. “I got riled up. Specters, you know? Sorry about that.”

  “No apology necessary. You’re an important part of this. I don’t want anything to happen to you. But, you should know—and I know you sort of do know—there’s a certain amount of risk that’s inherent in the work. I have to be prepared and plan for contingencies like that.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “And one of those contingencies is keeping suspicion off of you as much as possible.”

  “Agreed. I just don’t see how Xadrian makes that better.” Why was she fighting the prospect of meeting with Xadrian to get word from the official? Having a go-between? Was it that bad? And if it protected him, wasn’t that a good thing? He’d already been hit right in the heart by having his son used against him.

  “It won’t always be like this.” He took a deep breath. “There’s another reason. This isn’t to cut you out of the loop. Someone’s closing in on me. I’ve seen vestiges. Xadrian has had criminal contacts. I can use him as a go-between because it’ll protect us both. They’ll think that I’m still dirty.”

  “And I make you look clean.”

  “Precisely. I can keep you at a safe distance.”

  “Fine.” She scowled. He was right. It was logical even if it irked her.

  “Sounds like it’s not fine, but that’s perfectly all right. I know I’m making the right decision here. For you, me, and the rest of this operation. You’d do anything for your team, Holly, which makes you an excellent leader. They trust you. They’d do anything for you.” He turned toward her. Holly tilted her head to glance at him, but kept her body squared to the window. “And that is what I’m doing. Making the right calls for my team.”

  “When you put it that way…”

  He smiled. “Not only that, but I am paying you. I’m your boss. If you don’t like this, quit.”

  “Playing the employer card. You fight dirty, sir.”

  “How dare you call me sir.”

  Holly laughed, spun on her heel and headed for the door. “Let me know when you have my next assignment via your courier, sir.”

  “Don’t push your luck, Drake!” He called as she opened and door and slammed it behind her.

  THREE

  THE Spireway was crowded on the way back to the Ice Jade district, where Charly’s baby, the Surge Club, existed for the amusement of the wealthier segment of the city. Holly stood in the center of her private gondola, one arm hugging the center post as she considered the meeting with the official.

  Outside sunlight glinted brilliantly off the various spiretops. Dark green, lavender, ice, orange—so many colors—receding into the distance as she floated above the confusion and mischief that swirled far below her.

/>   The city went on forever. Canals wound through the various districts, as did roads filled with aether-powered vehicles. From up in the spiretops, the things happening in the canyons of the city below seemed distant and unimportant. But what troubled Holly was important, and it reached up to her from far below, tugging her down into the mire of life in a teeming city. It was helpful sometimes to get above it and gain a new perspective. Or try to.

  She mostly trusted the official. He’d done nothing yet to prove that he shouldn’t be trusted.

  But why had she bristled at the thought of losing him as her contact and having Xadrian between them?

  Was it because she didn’t trust Xadrian? Logically, Holly knew that it shouldn’t matter if it was Xadrian or the official telling her what the next job was. And she had a history with Xadrian. One that she should be able to rely on as evidence that he was worthy of her trust to some degree. He’d been above reproach despite his spotty history as a criminal. Holly didn’t know what crimes he’d committed, but she knew from Darius and the others on the crew that he was no saint. None of them had suggested to her that she was a fool to take his word, except Odeon. That had happened early when she’d first met the Druiviin. His warning about Xadrian had been his whole purpose in speaking to her in the first place—where Xadrian went, trouble followed, Odeon had said.

  But once Odeon got involved in the job, he’d had no trouble with sticking through to the end of it, despite Xadrian as the constant presence behind the work.

  Holly unwrapped her arm from the center post of the gondola, punched some buttons on the control panel, and went to the windows as they lowered and let the air in. The breeze buffeted against her with warm hands, pushing through her velvet form-fitting jacket, whipping against her dress shirt and black trousers. She stared out at the city and strained to see past the spiretops to the farthest edges of the Sliver, the only safe zone on Kota, where all the inhabitants remained to avoid the tectonic activity everywhere else. As a child she’d visited her grandmother regularly out on the pasturelands of the Sliver. Her homestead became a refuge for Holly. She missed all that sometimes.

  Her issues with the official putting Xadrian between them for the time being—was that because it made her feel like her work was unimportant? Was the official also putting Xadrian between himself and whoever was listening to the Shadow Coalition’s communications? That was something to consider. But perhaps it was enough that she was being paid quite well to disrupt the cash flow of the Coalition. It shouldn’t matter that the official wanted to go through Xadrian. He claimed it was for both their safety. That should be enough.

  And it was.

  Sort of.

  Her gondola docked. Somewhat reluctantly, Holly stepped out through the open door onto the platform, pressed through the crowd, crossed to the elevator and went down to street level with an elevator carriage full of violet-skinned Druiviin and the soft-brown Centau, plus a few humans.

  She stayed in her head and thoughts as she walked the rest of the short distance to the Surge Club. She hadn’t seen Charly yet that day and wondered if her friend would be completely recovered from the debris that cracked her helmet and sent her careening across the low-gravity moon and nearly out into space. Holly had blacked out and sustained quite a few bruises from crashing back into the airlock, but luckily (for her), she’d managed to fall on top of Charly. So Holly walked away with a few contusions and a headache from the deep chill and exposure to space for less than forty seconds. Any more than that and she would have been much worse off, burst capillaries throughout her skin and other ugly exposure damage.

  The streets of the city were crowded, like everywhere else, and filled with colorfully attired pedestrians, bicycles, and aether-powered vehicles. Holly had merged with the bustling mass and followed the stream of Centau, Druiviin, and humans down two streets and then turned toward a neon doorway with the words Surge Club glowing in blue. She pushed the doors open and went inside. There were only a few patrons within, drinking and chatting under the glow of soft yellow and blue icicle lights, and basking in the rhythmic music thumping through the room. Holly took a deep breath. The place was beginning to smell like home. Spices, fermented drinks, and that underlying layer of musk that permeated the whole of the Sliver, which came from some of the native Centuarus plants.

  “Hey Torden,” Holly said as she passed the bar. Torden was polishing a two-stemmed wine glass lazily, as he leaned back against the drink preparation counter.

  “Hello Holly. Have I told you thanks for saving Charly’s ass yet?” He smiled at her, his white teeth flashing brightly against his dark violet lips. He was Druiviin. Charly’s Druiviin. Although thinking about how that sounded, Holly realized it cast him as some kind of property. She just meant that they were both sort of secretly devoted to each other. Neither of them dared to admit it, however.

  “Only every hour since we got back, Torden. And you’re welcome.”

  “Please don’t tell me how she saved your ass in prison again. I know.”

  “Fine. I won’t, Mr. Grouchy. How is she today?” Holly paused at the bar. He nodded at the tap for the Kotan Double IPA, as though asking her a question.

  “Just a small one.”

  He put the wine glass on the counter and took a beer flute down from the shelf. He filled it beneath the tap as he explained how grumpy Charly had been all morning. She refused to let him bring her any breakfast or lunch, and she was walking around in the Bird’s Nest like she hadn’t almost died.

  “Well,” Holly said taking the glass from Torden. “Honestly, that’s a great sign. She’s being bitchy again. Means she’ll be fine. Tomorrow she should be totally perfect again.”

  Torden laughed. “Good. I am tired of pretending she’s not well.”

  Holly headed for the stairway up to the Bird’s Nest. “Thanks for the drink.”

  “Anytime Holly Drake.”

  Holly rounded the landing, and reached the top of the stairs. The room opened up into a large space with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the club below. There were three long sofas and two arm chairs positioned wide around a large coffee-height table and a plush rug. There were a few tables in one corner and several comp-screens where Darius did his work. He was there now, his back to Holly. Odeon looked to be asleep, reclined on his usual spot with his feet up on the coffee table. Charly was standing at the windows looking out at the club. When Holly walked in, she continued to stare down at the club.

  “Torden tell you I’ve been biting his head off all day?” She was wearing a sleeveless dark green shirt and black fitted trousers, like she was dressing to feel powerful and recovered.

  “He definitely did.” Holly sat in one of the armchairs and took a long drink of her beer.

  “Fun. Well, he’s right. I’m tired of him trying to wait on me hand-and-foot.”

  Darius spun in his chair. He wore his standard dark gray, tweed driving cap. His tan corduroy blazer with suede elbow patches and collared dress shirt beneath it accentuated his geeky tendencies. Darius was usually preoccupied with some kind of technical problem, but today he had a smile for Holly that lit up his smooth brown skin. “Drake, how did the meeting go?”

  Charly moved from the window and sat down on one of the sofas. Holly noted that her friend looked better than the previous day, but still seemed weak. “Yeah, Holly. You got our new assignment? Can we listen in on the Shadow Coalition and get the drops without waiting for marching orders from your sugar daddy?”

  Holly shook her head. “Even if I’d gotten a new assignment, you’re off duty for a few more days. Cushioning my fall, amongst other things, was pretty rough on you.”

  “Don’t pamper me, Holly. It’s not your job. Torden’s doing that enough.”

  “And what do you mean, Drake? So, no assignment? Your ‘friend’,” Darius said, making air quotes, “is going to be withholding and not let us do the listening?” From his seat, Darius bent over a box he’d pulled out from under the table and
rummaged through it.

  “Why is everyone insinuating that the official is more than just a contact? What have you guys been saying behind my back?”

  Charly and Darius exchanged a look and laughed.

  “Whatever. Anyway, no he’s not going to let us listen. And not only that, he’s making me go through Xadrian now.”

  Charly groaned. “That guy? He’s the worst.”

  Holly latched onto that. “Why? What’s wrong with Xadrian?”

  Charly shrugged. “I just never really trusted him. I think he used to deal black market hydrantium. Just seems sketchy.”

  “Black market hydrantium? Why is this my first time hearing about it?”

  “Did you not do your research, girl?” Charly laughed.

  “Everyone knew that’s what Xadrian did, Drake,” Darius said, straightening. He had a metal device in his hands. Wires hung from the bottom. “Should have asked.”

  “It’s not that big of a deal,” Holly said, “Is it?” She heard a commotion coming up from the stairwell. Her ears pricked up. A familiar, pompous voice was nearing.

  “It’s a bit weird that your official won’t let us listen in on the signal. Anyone else find that odd?” Darius looked up from the object he was fidgeting with.

  “What’s odd?” a voice said from the entrance. “Charly, lass, you’re looking better today than you have the past two days.”

  “Thanks Shiro. See? Shiro knows what’s up.”

  “Ms. Drake, lovely to see you, as always. I came by to see how your meeting went. Do we have a new job yet? My side work is getting drab.”

  Shiro had come to stand beside her. He was dressed to the nines—exquisite white dress suit with a turquoise square in the pocket. A matching, ruffly dress shirt under the jacket. He spun his lion-head cane as he strolled further into the room.

  “Why are you so dressed up, Shiro?” Darius asked, pausing in his inspection of the metal object to look at Shiro.

  “I was at a gala for investors.”

  Holly studied Shiro, whose role was the distraction on any of their jobs. He was always distracting—the man oozed intrigue. He was like a bird, one whose plumage inspired endless curiosity. “Is that your side work?”