Hands of the Colossus

by Nicole Grotepas

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not.” He grinned at Holly, then put his cane down and busied himself with making a drink at the kasè machine. “Drake, Charly, anyone? A drink? Ah, Ms. Drake. I see you’re already into your second alcoholic beverage of the day. Would you like something else to sober you up?”

  Holly scoffed. “How do you know this is my second?”

  “You were at your meeting with the official. You always have a drink with him.” Shiro dumped the ground up dried pods into the machine, filled the water tank from a pitcher of water beside it, and hit the button to start the brew process. “Anyone else feel that we should give him a name?”

  “Yes, god, please,” Charly said. “I’m tired of The Official. It sounds so, I don’t know, official.”

  “Something mundane.” Darius finally attached the metallic object he’d been studying into his computer block. “Steve. Dan.”

  “Dave. Dick. Larry.” Shiro leaned against the table while the machine brewed. The smell of kasé wafted through the room.

  Holly smiled. “The official works for me.” She drained the rest of her beer, now feeling a bit self-conscious that Shiro had noticed how much she’d been drinking.

  “Or something sinister,” Darius said. “Because it’s kind of odd that he won’t let us listen to the Shadow Coalition. What’s he hiding?”

  Holly didn’t want the team questioning their source, even though she understood why they were. “He has a separate team. It’s nothing. He just wants to keep the operations separate.”

  “I like Steve,” Charly said. “Steve is a good guy. Plus, he did have his kid taken. I bet that was rough.”

  “Odeon, any ideas?” Shiro asked the Druiviiin, walking over and tapping Odeon on the head lightly with his cane.

  Odeon’s multi-colored eyes flashed open. “Can’t a Yasoan sleep?” he asked, using the more proper term for his race.

  Shiro chuckled. “No. Since you asked. Why are you so tired?”

  “Still recovering from the trip to the transponder moon.”

  “Would you like a kasé? That should get the blood pumping, my good man.”

  “Yes, Shiro Oahu, please. And for a name? I prefer Larry.”

  Holly groaned. “Larry is terrible. All of them are terrible. But if you all insist, then . . . Dave.”

  “Dave it is!” Shiro slapped his cane against the palm of his other hand.

  Holly’s communicator buzzed. She answered.

  “HD, are you there?” It was Xadrian.

  “Yes, XT,” Holly said, using Xadrian’s initials—Xadrian Tyanne. “Calling me already?”

  “I have a drop time and location for you.”

  “So quick?”

  “Yes. Get your team ready. It happens tonight.”

  FOUR

  IN the Southern Gray Jade district, the Emerald Canal wound between the streets and at the feet of the shorter gray spires that held the inhabitants of the poorer area. Humans and Constellations migrated over streets on their way out for entertainment on the weekend evening. The sorts of entertainment a person could find in the area varied from the standards like immersive film to the seedy live sort one found at a place like Madame Le Tissier’s Sveldt Encounters. There were very few Centau or Druiviin in the Gray Jade districts. If one was spotted, they were likely in the area to manage a concern of the Centau run Syndicate government or, in the case of the Druiviin, perform in one of the shoddier clubs.

  Holly and her team arrived as early as possible, which wasn’t as early as they wished, because the tip from Xadrian came so late.

  Darius stayed back in the getaway vehicle. The team had sunk some money into an auto based on a vintage model of an old Earth vehicle. The brother of the famous artisan Ko Lapsong, Yishini Lapsong, mined the past for inspiring designs of useful tools. One of his designs was a remake of a 1959 Cadillac El Dorado. Of course the team didn’t care about the source material. One look and all of them had fallen for it. The roof retracted quite easily and flames adorned the Neptune blue paint job. It purred quietly, running on the hydrantium based aether and when they drove it through the city, its animal magnetism made all the humans and Consties stop to watch it hum past. Other vehicles crawling through the streets were made entirely for other purposes—economy and efficiency. They were sleek, with no sharp corners, and yet beautiful in their own right. But the Lapsong Mirage, as the automobile was known, was a thing apart.

  Darius put the roof down with the press of a button, took off his tweed driving cap, and reclined in the bench seat as Holly and the others exited the Mirage. “I’ll watch from here. Keep me posted. I can swing in and snag you if need be.” He raised the handheld v-screen from which he would be observing via their earpiece video footage. “Now get going.”

  The canals of the City of Jade Spires were a common means of travel, for shipping and trade as well as quickly getting around the city in an aether-powered boat, but the branch of the Emerald canal the nova handoff was occurring in would see very little travel on an evening like this. Holly appreciated that, as it meant there would be less of a chance of collateral damage happening to an unsuspecting bystander.

  At a small dock in the canal a few city blocks away, Holly rented a boat. The team piled in and chugged through the water, the prow of their boat carving ripples in the dark water that reflected the neon lights lining the gray spires that shot up into the night sky. Overhead, Ixion glowed down at them, reflecting light from the sun at the center of the solar system, called by humans, Yol, sister of Sol. Flickering nets of lightning could be seen rippling across the gaseous atmosphere of the planet, but Holly’s attention was on steering the boat as Shiro stood beside her, and Charly and Odeon kept watch from the back of it. As they approached the bend in the canal that would take them toward the bridge where the drop would happen, Holly steered the boat over to a narrow walkway and set of stairs that led up to street level. She hopped out and let Shiro take over driving.

  “See you there. And Ms. Drake, do be careful,” Shiro admonished.

  “Coming, Odeon?” Holly asked the Druiviin.

  He climbed out and joined her on the walkway. The boat sped away as Holly and Odeon hurried up the stairs. They were taking precautions in case the Shadow Coalition and the thugs they contracted with had sent in an early sweeper team that would clear the area of anyone looking to rob them.

  Beneath her jacket, Holly felt the reassuring sensation of the cold handgrip of the Equalizer, her aether gun, digging into the skin of her back. She shook her arms out and took a few deep breaths. Odeon also wore a jacket that let him conceal the ancient Druiviin war club, which he’d modified into a longer staff to give him a better reach. The blond wood of the center portion—the oldest portion—was from the Yoosubu tree native to Yaso, now found on Itzcap, and in a few forests of the northern Sliver. It was a sacred tree to Druiviin. The new wood on either end of the staff was a dark polished ebony wood.

  As they walked through the light of the blue and green neon and the shadows cast by the spires from Ixion’s hazy orange and yellow nighttime glow, Holly conducted a whispered conversation with Odeon. “Aren’t you afraid the staff will break with that new wood?”

  “It’s a club. An Ousaba club.” Odeon smiled and glanced fondly at the staff. He carried it pointed downward like a tall walking stick, but now he bent his arm and brought it close to his chest to run his thumb along the dark wood.

  “You made it longer, it’s a staff now.”

  “Holly Drake, you may think of it as a staff. But let’s agree to honor it with the term my ancestors gave it: club. Or Ousaba,” he said.

  Holly stopped to look at him. There was a glimmer in his multicolored eyes. “Sure, no problem.”

  “And, I fused the wood. It will never break.”

  “Fused it with what? Something like glue? Or something weird, like magic?” Holly asked grinning, joking, not expecting the answer to actually be magic.

  “You may think of it as magic. But it is much like sing
ing the healing song to a body—I can sing to the tiny particles and convince them to bond.”

  “So yes. Magic. Just say magic.” Holly hesitated before beginning to walk again. “I’ve heard of the fusing trick. But infrequently.”

  “Of course, there are Yasoans who think it’s OK to sell their fusing abilities.”

  “It’s not?”

  “Not to traditional Yasoans.”

  Holly didn’t ask which he was. She’d seen enough of Odeon to know that he considered himself progressive. Their trip to Itzcap and running into Odeon’s musician parents during their first job stealing back the Eye of the Colossus showed her just how distinct he was.

  The street they crossed to reach the bridge and climb down to the canal was made from smooth paving stones. Holly and Odeon kept to the edges as vehicles passed softly by, their aether-powered engines humming quietly, stalking like predators through the jungle. Holly could see the bridge up ahead and they continued to walk towards it. The apprehension she’d become familiar with filled her stomach, but she tamped it down.

  There wouldn’t be children. Just the money. An advance payment for the “product,” which was the children. It sickened her to think about it. Her blood boiled and her pulse sped as she contemplated all the possible permutations of what the Shadow Coalition were doing with the children. Why were they doing it? What was the goal of the Shadow Coalition?

  She shook herself and glanced to the side at her companion. He was focused on the bridge ahead, his bright eyes narrow and alert.

  The bridge was wide and spanned the canal, allowing vehicles and foot traffic to cross back and forth between two segments of the Southern Grey Jade district.

  So the plan was for Holly and Odeon to hang back if the thugs were already there for the drop. As Shiro and Charly chugged by in the boat, Shiro would distract the participants. At that point, Holly and Odeon would drop in and snag two of the men and use them as shields. Meanwhile Shiro and Charly would hop out of the boat and start cleaning up with their sword and fists, respectively.

  As they neared the target area, Holly could see the lower half of a body, milling about in the dim light of the underside of the bridge. She pulled up short, grabbing for Odeon’s arm.

  “Someone is already there,” Holly said, turning on her course to avoid suspicion from any onlookers that were hidden around the area. “Hear that, team?”

  “Uh, Holly, what the hell? Bad intel?” Charly asked over the comms.

  “Blast it.” Shiro’s voice followed Charly’s.

  “No time for that, guys. Change of plans. Here it is. Thinking on my feet. Let’s do this right.” She kept walking, and slipped her fingers into Odeon’s so that they looked like lovers and not part of a crew that was about to rob a group of criminals. His fingers were calloused from the multiple instruments he played and they responded with a return grip that startled Holly at first. But touching him calmed her instantly and her thinking sharpened.

  She squinted as the traffic around them jostled and horns honked. “We’re going to do this quick. Shiro and Charly, pull back and wait until the two parties come together and the handoff is happening. As soon as they begin to do it, pass under the bridge. Odeon and I will drop from above, my gun will be blazing, Odeon’s club will be a whirlwind of destruction. We’ll take out the thugs with the money. Charly, you’ll need to help defend us with your fists, but first priority, grab the money. Shiro, be ready to haul us out of there fast as fuck. Darius, be on standby to pick us up. In the meantime, Charly and Shiro, get some cover. Act like lovers, whatever the fuck you need to do so that you don’t arouse suspicion.”

  “I copy you, Drake,” Darius answered over the comms.

  “Done and done,” Shiro responded. “I’m always keen to hold the hand of a pretty lady.”

  “Good. Then do it.” Holly felt a twinge of something. Jealousy? Shut up, she told herself. There was no time for anything like that, ever, as the leader of the crew. Plus it was admittedly unfair, given the hand that she currently held onto. But that seemed different. Her and Odeon were friends. He was like her sidekick.

  “When and if you can hear what’s happening under the bridge, Odeon, let me know.” Holly turned them back toward the bridge, and began to walk across it. She led them to the edge and stopped to look over the railing in the direction where Shiro and Charly should currently be waiting. Back toward the street that ran parallel to the canal, there was a stairway that went down to the canal and the walkway that ran next to it. “We’ll go down that way when we need to.”

  Odeon nodded. Holly let go of his hand and the extra sense that his touch seemed to give her dissipated.

  “We’re in position.”

  “Good thing. A boat just passed us full of SC thugs.” With Charly’s voice came the faint sound of water splashing, presumably as they started moving again. “We’re following slowly.”

  Odeon’s touch on Holly’s back was soft as he tilted his head toward the boat that appeared in the faint lights over the canal.

  “I see it,” Holly said.

  “Ready?” Odeon asked.

  “As ready as I can be.” Her stomach constricted in fear. Her fingers trembled. Odeon’s hum broke through the anxiety that welled up in her. The boat got closer and Holly leaned toward Odeon to keep their “lovers” cover. Proximity to men had gotten easier since meeting Odeon, but after all that had happened with Graf, she never thought she’d be able to overcome the natural flinch, the quick panic that had become her standard response to being near a man. Odeon was different. Safe. Calm. Humanoid, but not human. He was a good place to start as her sidekick.

  Odeon’s voice was low and quiet when he spoke next. “I can hear them now. The one next to the driver of the boat is telling the driver to pull over to the side under the bridge.”

  “Good. Once they’re out, Charly and Shiro should be close by. We’ll take those stairs, quickly, quietly. I’ll shoot as soon as I need to, but as low as these bastards are, I really hope I don’t need to.”

  Odeon looked at her. “Trust yourself Holly Drake. You’re good to the core.”

  Her face flushed. She doubted him. She doubted herself. But there was a time for thought and a time for action. And now… “Let’s move.”

  She pulled Odeon with her to the other side of the bridge and caught the glimpse she wanted: another boat coming from the other direction. There were two men in it. She suspected that there were two more elsewhere, keeping watch.

  “The other group,” Odeon muttered. “One of them just asked if their other man is in position.”

  “Let’s hit the stairs.” Holly was as ready as she could be, given the fluid nature of these operations. “Shiro, Charly, we’re heading down. Keep moving toward the bridge.”

  “On our way,” Charly said.

  The thin crowd parted around them. Voices rose and fell in conversation as they passed groups of nighttime revelers. The musky fragrance of the night rantipole tree hovered beneath the city smells of dust and dirt, and the soft tones of humidity from the nearby canal. The heavier feel of water vapor increased as Holly reached the stairwell. She gave the area an intense glance, her senses on high alert as she scanned the top of the bridge, the opposite side of the canal beneath the bridge, and the street behind her. Satisfied, she dropped Odeon’s hand and began to descend the stairs. She kept close to the wall as she went. Her ears pricked at the sound of voices, echoing faintly against the stone and brick of the bridge. A soft hum and the sound of water parting came from behind her. She hugged the wall as she reached the canal walkway and drew her gun. Soon she reached the bridge and crept to the where the archway curve met the walkway.

  Odeon touched her arm and she stopped. A glance at him warned her, so she kept her position. He must have heard something she couldn’t hear.

  “What’s this?” An accented male voice said, carrying out from the underside of the bridge. “A boat? What the fuck is a boat doing in this branch at this time of night? Did
you guys tell someone about this?”

  “Fuck no.” Another voice, another accent. “Yeah, we told all our friends. Criminals. We wanted them to bust our nut.”

  “Alright alright. You cleared the area, didn’t you? You and Jako?”

  “Yeah we did, Tiny. They look like fucking lovers on a pleasure ride. Just act normal. If they try anything funny, then we’ll do something.”

  Holly watched as Shiro and Charly approached in the boat. They kept looking at each other, indulging in the part they played, intentionally avoiding looking at Holly and Odeon.

  Holly counted in her head, thinking about what her next move would be. She estimated just five under the bridge, but there would be more positioned elsewhere. And they would have guns. Charly and Shiro could help with the nearby grunts and she would need to take out any distant, gun-toting foot soldiers.

  The boat was less than ten feet away. She held her breath. The men under the bridge were quiet. She imagined them, standing still, watching the boat approach.

  And then it was past Holly and Odeon, disappearing beneath the bridge.

  Holly crept around the archway, skirted the back in a crouch, attempting to sneak up behind the men. She knew Odeon was right behind her, could feel him hot on her heels. The boat bumped against the walkway beneath the bridge.

  Holly heard Shiro laugh. “Ah, excuse us lads. Just out for a romantic excursion. You wouldn’t happen to know the directions to the nearest theater, would you?”

  One of the accented voices responded. “What the fuck? A theater? Do we look like we know where a theater is?”

  “Yeah, if you morons know what’s good for you, you’ll get the hell out of here fast.”

  “Ah, I’m afraid I won’t be able to grant you that, gents. No, in fact—”

  Holly grabbed one of the men of a comparable height to her from behind, putting him into a chokehold, and dug the barrel of the Equalizer into his ribs. Shouts, grunts, and cries of surprise echoed across the water.