Hands of the Colossus

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Hands of the Colossus Page 15

by Nicole Grotepas


  “Shit,” she said.

  “Oh, Darius, that won’t work. The control panel has just been destroyed,” Odeon said.

  He cursed. “Ah, gee me a minute. I’m almost to the Nest.”

  The situation was getting dire. The outer walls had now been eaten through. What was their endgame? If they just wanted to kill Holly, they should be aiming at the top of the gondola where the massive arm hooked onto the cable.

  Holly took a stab. “Shiro? Charly? Are either of you at the Nest?”

  No answer.

  Holly looked back toward the thugs just in time to see a ball of aetheric energy shooting toward her. She ducked and it exploded against the wall behind her. Wind and rain pelted against her face. Her clothes were soaked. She shivered and faced down the oncoming projectiles.

  “I’m here, I’m here, Drake and Odeon. At the Nest,” Darius said. “Ok, there’s a platform really close. I’m commandeering your gondola, overriding the last known instructions. Which gondola are the Shadow Coalition bastards in?”

  “Two behind us,” she said.

  “Righto, alright, alright,” Darius said, as though concentrating on something. “I’ve taken over theirs. And I’m sending it the opposite direction at the next fork.”

  “Good, and thank you, you beautiful, tech genius,” Holly roared over the blowing wind and sideways rain that blasted her in the face. She and Odeon balanced together with their feet on a tiny segment that remained of the gondola floor, and held to the emergency straps at the top. Luckily those hadn’t been destroyed in the shooting. Though it was dangerous as hell, and Holly’s guts felt like they were dropping out of her, the view was fucking magnificent. She gazed out at the spires, so close it seemed she could reach her hand out and touch them.

  With no walls to separate them from the rich colors and the lights of the city, veiled only by the rain, the the scene hit her in vivid detail. Or perhaps it was just the affects of her heightened senses from the adrenalin.

  They both swayed as their gondola suddenly took a right. Holly felt a stabilizing touch on her back from Odeon beside her. In the midst of the turn, there was a moment when the Shadow Coalition foot soldiers suddenly fired repeatedly at them, and then just like that, their gondola took a different turn and swept around a spire top, vanishing.

  “Thank god, they’re gone, Darius,” Holly shouted. She glanced behind her—the other gondola was indeed gone.

  “You mean, ‘thank Darius?’ I know. My thoughts exactly. Who’s the goddamn man?” Darius asked over the comms.

  “We’ll be sure to thank you properly when we get back, Darius,” Holly said.

  “Thanks for saving our asses,” Odeon agreed.

  Soon the remnants of their gondola had coasted into the platform area into a loading slot. The waiting crowd stared, mouths agape, as they watched the two passengers ride in on a nearly disintegrated gondola. Holly jumped onto the solid building and sighed. “That feels really good. Doesn’t it, Odeon? Nothing like solid ground after dangling high above the city for, you know, any amount of time.”

  Odeon jumped down beside her. “I can’t argue with that.”

  Holly turned to the crowd. “What? It was like that when we got on. But if I were you, I would not ride that one.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  HOLLY threw her blazer onto the armchair when she walked in. She went to the fridge and pulled out the first beer her fingers grabbed—she wasn’t feeling choosey at the moment . . . just overwhelmed. She opened it and took a long drink.

  Darius had made it to the Bird’s Nest, and once Holly and Odeon had shaken the men following them, they’d gone back to the Nest as well. Charly and Shiro had never really shown up, so they still didn’t know about the insane gondola ride that had nearly dropped Holly and Odeon.

  She leaned against the waist high white stone countertop and stared at her free hand, trying to stop the trembling.

  Was she cut out for this? More and more she simply did what she had to do. Oh, the Shadow Coalition is shooting at her goddamn gondola? Just hang on, Holly! Just survive! Need to get into a desert canyon warehouse and steal some money using a smoke grenade? No big deal! Just do it!

  That was her life now.

  And it was . . . fucking scary.

  But . . . it was also, kind of amazing. Outsmarting the thugs. Knowing they were out there. Knowing what they were doing, and finding it in her power hurt them with a . . . well, what amounted to a tiny poke, really, because Holly and her crew were a tiny band of fighters.

  But something was better than nothing.

  She took another drink and looked around her condo. The lights were low. Her velvet red armchairs looked inviting, even with her wet jacket draped over the back. The rich dark colors of the rug that held the sofa, coffee table, and armchair ensemble together was a unifying touch that gathered the objects into a whole. Her coffee table held at its center an expensive, mechanical replica of the 6-moon system orrery that had been popular when she’d been a girl. It currently ticked away the motions of the planets.

  She’d decorated her place in dark, rich colors like an old earth style that had been prevalent several hundred years ago. Meg’s condo was decorated in a cleaner style, which Holly liked, but she wanted the crowded warmth of the style she’d used for her own place. It didn’t really match against the sustainable woods and clean stone look that prevailed on Kota, but she didn’t care.

  Outside the rain still came down hard against the windows. Her own view out into the night was shrouded with the mist and cloud cover. She felt ensconced in a puffy blanket of night, hidden from the world, but still vulnerable. She’d been careful walking home, hurrying from shadow to shadow to stay out of sight of any pursuers.

  It wasn’t very late, and even with the beer, her heart still churned out a fast rhythm, thundering through her chest and up into her neck, just beneath her chin where she felt it fluttering like a scared mouse.

  She liked having her own place to live now. To be in a safe place, alone. To have no fear of someone entering her place of solitude and refuge and disassembling it piece by piece or shattering it with an enraged outburst.

  But this evening she wasn’t coming back to the ground. Her heart rate remained aloft. Her fears ate at the outer edges of the moment. Anxiety gnawed at the refuge both outside her and within her.

  She sighed, finished her beer and went into her bedroom to change her clothes. When she came back out, she had on a white, clean rain jacket with a hood. Her black trousers had a geometric design up her legs and her boots had tread on the bottom that gave her traction in the rain. She checked the Equalizer before she went back out, to make sure the rain hadn’t damaged it. Satisfied, she left her condo.

  On the ground floor, she went outside. The streets were relatively empty, but there were still people hurrying in various directions. Holly flagged down a taxi and got in when one stopped. The cabbies loved rainstorms—it meant more business for them. They waited months for the wet season. A smart cabbie could make enough to offset the dry season and set themselves up for the rest of the year.

  Holly gave him the address and then sat back to enjoy the ride. She never fully relaxed however. As she rode along, she realized that she hadn’t sincerely relaxed for a week or so. Not, at least, since Charm had been taken. They passed milling groups on street corners, waiting to cross. At one point they crossed a bridge and Holly caught a momentary view of the canals that caught all the rain runoff and ferried it out to the distant sea.

  The interior of the quiet, economic aetheric-powered vehicle was largely window. Autos like it didn’t travel very fast, because they were designed to move around the city, and there was no reason to speed. Speed was reserved for the vehicles that traversed the great distances far outside the city, in the parts of the sliver that covered acres and acres of woodland, farmland, pasture, and plains.

  They arrived at Meg’s without incident, which actually surprised Holly. She’d been prepared for a roadblock
, an attempted kidnapping, or a fiery explosion halting her in her path, anything but getting to where she was heading.

  She exited the vehicle after slipping the cabbie a few novas. She entered the spire and rode the interior elevator up to the 117th floor.

  Meg answered the door.

  “Holly, hey.” Meg smiled slightly, then her eyebrows came together in a look of concern. “You OK?”

  “Probably, yes. I think I’m fine.” Holly tried to look past Meg into the apartment. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “No, not really. Well, come in.” Meg backed away from the door and Holly entered.

  Gabe was also there, sitting at the small circular dining table. “Hey, kid,” Gabe said, smiling at Holly when their eyes met. Lucy sat next to Gabe and leaned up against her father looking tired and like she’d been crying. She rubbed her eyes as she watched Holly.

  To Holly’s surprise, Charm’s parents were also there. Meg returned to her seat on the other side of Lucy and whispered something to her daughter.

  “Oh, sorry, I er, didn’t know you had guests.” Holly paused, wondering if it wouldn’t be best, after all, to leave. She didn’t want to explain to Charm’s parents that they still hadn’t found their daughter, and that they’d run up against roadblock after roadblock in their quest to find the whereabouts of the poor girl.

  “They came by to see how the search is going,” Meg said, giving Holly a look.

  “Yes, how is it going?” Tyro asked Holly, her lavender face opening up in hope as her gaze found Holly.

  “It’s going well,” Holly said, lying. “We’re getting closer.”

  “Can you tell us more details about what you’re doing?” Aetion asked, taking his partner’s hand upon the table.

  Holly sat halfway on the back of the couch and began to sweat beneath the rain jacket. She stood again to remove it, suddenly feeling very stifled and suffocated in all her layers of clothes. What could she tell Aetion? That they’d been tricked into almost getting themselves killed on Po? That they were about to deploy some ridiculous dirigibles to get every message being passed communicator to communicator on the planet? None of it sounded very promising. Aetion and Tyro would probably hear a list of excuses and roadblocks in the explanation from Holly and she would hardly blame them.

  Luckily for Holly, the door chimed that someone was there. She sighed, cursed, then thanked Ixion under her breath.

  Meg had gone back to her seat, and since Holly was the only one without a place at the table, she went to the door and glanced at the viewing screen. With a soft laugh of disbelief, she opened the door.

  “Odeon,” Holly said. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

  “I followed you,” he said, simply.

  “Join the club. I’m being followed by everyone it seems.”

  “Yes, I know, Holly. Which is why I followed you,” he said.

  “Thanks. While creepy, a bit, I know . . . or at least, I think . . . You’re doing it to keep me safe. Well, come in.” She backed away and let her Druiviin friend in. The door closed behind him and he approached Tyro and Aetion and gave them both Druiviin-style besos—which amounted to several kisses. Holly had never counted, but she thought it seemed to change. There was a probably a reason for that.

  “Hello, friend Odeon,” Tyro said.

  “We’re about to leave to go find a place to dine, would like to join us?” Aetion asked. “I confess, neither of us have wanted to each much since someone took our daughter. But it is something we must continue to do. For her sake.”

  Odeon thanked them for the invitation. Then he hesitated before saying, “Aetion, Tyro, I have a better idea.”

  Holly listened from her place leaning against the armrest of the couch. She could just imagine how cold and lonely every meal must be without their daughter. It was a terrible thing. There was really only one solution, Holly thought, considering it again. It was something she already knew. But there were times when she needed to remind herself how important her success was. She had to find whoever took Charm and make the bastards pay.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  “I don’t like the way the Centau are running things,” Aetion said, tearing off a section of a flat piece of bread and then passing it around the table. They were enjoying a home-cooked meal at Meg’s condo, rather than their initial idea to leave to eat somewhere else.

  Odeon had volunteered to prepare a Yasoan style dinner, to help soothe Aetion and Tyro. When they accepted the gesture, Holly and Odeon ran down to the nearest bodega and bought the supplies.

  Holly had enjoyed the domestic nature of the process, standing beside her friend in the kitchen as he directed her about how to prepare the Yasoan dishes. There were large pieces of flatbread and dishes made from vegetables from Yaso. Some of the entrees were fusions of vegetables from Earth and Centaurus. One was comprised of the liquid inside a nut like a coconut, but rather than the large sized Earth coconuts, there were many small nuts, broken open and drained of the liquid which was then used as a base to create a sauce that the diced vegetables were cooked in.

  The whole cooking and preparation process took nearly two hours. As she worked with Odeon, Holly forgot the troubles of the past few weeks—the stress and loss of Charm, the near-catastrophe of almost losing Charly, and the disastrous trap they’d walked into on Po. Life was its own avalanche that just kept plummeting down the mountain, like in the snowy peaks of the uninhabited planets further out in the Yol system. Holly barely had time to stop and get her bearings.

  Even the moments that she’d stolen for herself to just be in her condo were hardly enough. She managed to still focus on the problems and dangers that she’d generally just escaped, or completely dwell on whatever her next steps needed to be to put the bad right.

  Cooking with Odeon was a process that wrangled her mind and held onto it. She chopped while he manned the various pots of boiling sauces and measured out ingredients. He hovered beside her and corrected her knife angles with the explanation that the flavors would be impacted by these things. She wasn’t sure if she bought it, but Holly was happy to adjust and do it the way he asked. There had been so few moments in their friendship that Odeon had stood his ground so strongly that to do it now was hardly a bother.

  While the two of them prepared the food, Meg and Gabe stayed with Charm’s parents at the table, listening to their stories about the their Yasoan friendships and traditions, as well as, occasionally, memories of Charm.

  Holly listened with one ear cocked toward them. She had done a lot of meetings with concerned parents before her momentary exile in prison. She’d known how to counsel and reassure them when it was necessary. But with Aetion and Tyro, Holly was at a loss. They were angry. They were bereft. They felt betrayed by the society they’d given up their homeworld for.

  In this instance, Meg and Gabe were doing a job that Holly could never do. They were parents themselves and understood, in a way that Holly never could, the Druiviin couple’s feelings of anger and rage and the unquenchable desire to save their child. They seemed reduced and shrunken because that desire to help her was blunted against the impossible—where was she? How could they find her? What could they do to save her?

  It was a lot to think about. Too much. But Holly wanted to understand them. It seemed to matter to the situation that she consider it from their position. And so she listened. And let her thoughts mull as she worked beside Odeon.

  And then the preparations were complete. Room was made at the small table for everyone. Chairs were shared. Plates collided with neighboring plates. Shoulders and elbows bumped together. Odeon brought the dishes to the center of the table and food was served. First, it was flatbread filled with a saucy concoction. Holly noticed that despite their gratitude, Tyro and Aetion ate very little.

  The second dish was a fresh salad of a bitter lettuce with tart fruit. And then all the dishes were brought to the table and the real meal truly began.

  The discussion at the table that had been rather quie
t and concerned mostly with the food, turned to Aetion’s pronouncement that he disagreed with the direction the Centau government had taken.

  “Yes, it is deplorable,” Tyro said. She nibbled on a strip of flatbread. “How can the Centau Syndicate claim to lead us if they haven’t devised a way to protect the innocent such as our daughter?”

  “It is precisely as though they choose to ignore the reality that the Constellations and somewhat, the humans, forgive me, are more more inclined to rob and kidnap and deal in self-centered ways,” Aetion said. He folded a circle of flatbread around a spoonful of seasoned vegetables and took a bite.

  “This is what we do, Aetion,” Meg answered. “We are aware of the discrepancies in the races.”

  Holly cringed to hear her own sister admit that Aetion was right. Was he right? Holly sometimes rejected the long held notion. Was it circumstances that created the gap in how people behaved? Was it partially that the humans and Consties were more plentiful, and had they merely been brought to the 6-moon system to be the laborers for the more sparse numbers of their rulers? Did the proclivity to take what wasn’t theirs spring from a realization that they had begun with so much less in the first place?

  “What she means is,” Gabe said, “is that we see firsthand that there is more crime being perpetuated by humans and Consties, however, we do not know for certain that this is due to race and genetics.”

  “Is that what I mean?” Meg asked, in mock surprise. “I think I meant what I said.”

  “What you said was a bit vague.” Gabe took a drink of his Yasoan wine.

  Meg scoffed. “Seems clear to me—there are more crimes committed by humans and Consties. And many Yasoan and Centau just don’t pay attention. They believe they’re safe because no one talks of the numbers.”

 

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