Celestial Hit List

by Charles Ingrid

  Like strands of silk, finely woven and almost as thin as the breeze they bannered on, the cloth fluttered from turbanlike headdresses. No two were alike; indeed, as Colin had told her, no two Bythians were alike unless one were an offspring of the other, and then the youngling would be a miniature version of its parent, with the exception, perhaps, of its headdress.

  And so they wove through the crowd, Jonathan, their bodyguard, running to catch up with them, and Amber wondered which citizen of Sassinal it was who had seen her murder the cook.

  At her thought, her jaws clenched and throat tightened until she could scarcely breathe. She’d thought the assassin dead and gone, but his body had been found torn to shreds outside the city walls, his fist still closed about the deadly herbs he’d been about to kill Colin with—and forensics had shown he’d been alive until the surfas, the wild scavengers, had gotten to him. Amber’s eyes clenched shut a moment in agony.

  She’d thrown him over alive.

  But she hadn’t known! And even if she had, she might have done it. Knowing that did not make her feel any less guilty or ashamed.

  And the message that had arrived secretly for her that morning worsened the ordeal past bearing.

  She’d been seen. But by whom and what did they want from her? She was divided by her need to search the streets for eyes that might meet hers and her fear that she would find that being. For if she found the blackmailer she knew she would have to kill again.

  Jonathan, puffing as he jogged in his great black boots and voluminous Walker robes, his hand-carved cross bouncing up and down on his chest, began to slow. The young reverend rolled an eye at her and Amber smiled in spite of her fear and guilt. “Out of shape, Jonathan? What did you do, eat your way to Bythia instead of sleep?”

  The dark-haired man blushed, his face already reddened. He was a big, square man with a small, round belly that might expand with his years like the girth of a growing tree. Or it might not.

  Colin laughed and squeezed Amber’s hand. “Don’t tease,” he said, but his admonishment was offset by his own laughter.

  They slowed as the low, thunderlike rumbling of the hovership coming in over their heads made conversation impossible and began to whip a wind about them.

  Colin looked up. “There’s Storm,” he said.

  Something in the tone of his voice made Amber turn and look at the older man.

  They squeezed into the South Quarter with what seemed half the population of Sassinal. The merchants and free miners were out in force, cheering the arrival of fellow humans with a lusty enthusiasm. Bythians left them a wide passageway, giving off scents, as Amber wondered if the fragrances were fear, respect, or hate again, and then realized the emotions were probably as individual as their skin markings. Each a separate nation unto its own, she thought, and fell in behind Colin and Jonathan as they edged toward the landing platform. Her own guts clenched in fear. Which one of them knew what she’d done, and would she be revealed to Jack and St. Colin? She’d never be able to explain to Jack this time.

  The bizarre sight of the High Priest made Amber forget her fear and catch her breath in wonderment. He stood at the edge of the platform (he, she thought, though such a sex did not exist), his headdress pluming above, silken robes revealing his plum-swirled gray skin. About his wrists and trousered ankle cuffs were miniature headdresses, giving him “feathers” at ankle and hand. She had never seen skin tattoos the color of the Bythian sky. Was this what gave him the distinction to be the High Priest or was it something more? He was involved in a chant, with his hands moving like graceful birds in sign, but he stopped suddenly, and turned to look at them, and a deadly silence fell over the crowded South Quarter.

  What had it been? Had he smelled them? Amber’s stomach clenched again. Holy shit, she thought. He’s looking right at me. Can he smell what I did?

  There was no doubt. Those jewel-toned eyes of bright emerald were tangled in her own gaze and for a moment, Amber felt as though he could reach in and rip her soul right out of her skin.

  It occurred to her that perhaps that was what she needed. Her head became light, and the ground moved dizzyingly under her feet.

  Jonathan said, “I think he wants to speak with you, sir.”

  Colin stirred beside Amber. “I hope so,” he answered softly. “Can you get us closer?”

  The bodyguard shrugged, but even as he indicated doubt, the crowd opened and fell away to let the foreigners meet the holy man. As Colin moved forward, the hovercraft shuddered to a halt, its engines began winding down, and heat roiled about those standing near the platform’s edge.

  The High Priest had a sloping snout nose, and like all Bythians, had his mouth built into the underside of it. He smiled though, a facial expression Amber could not remember having seen before. She shuddered, Colin’s and Jonathan’s bulk hiding her, but convinced the alien watched her.

  The High Priest gave a contortion of a bow. Speaking in Standard, he said, in a dry, rustling voice, “Welcome. I am most pleased to be greeting with you. Are you granting absolution?”

  Colin bowed back, a clumsy mimicry. “No,” he answered. “I’m only here to meet friends. I, however, am pleased to meet you as well.”

  An unfelt breeze stirred the plumed cloth strands of the headdress. The Bythian blinked, a drawing together of his eyelids from side to side. The High Priest said only, “They have killed.”

  A gasp and murmur through the crowd. How fast, Amber wondered, did gossip and news reach them? How had the priest known of the defensive action?

  Yet she was not surprised he did. She shifted weight uneasily on the platform. A hold door cranked open beyond. She should be looking for Jack, but the priest held her focus. She could not wrench her gaze away.

  Colin answered, “In my religion, it is God himself who gives absolution. I can only give ease and advice.”

  The priest nodded briskly. “I understand. I can only give so much until the Holy Fire is called up.”

  “I have heard…” Colin said carefully, as though weighing his words, “of destiny calling. And scourging.”

  Another gasp, and a trilling through the crowd. The priest stood tensely. Jonathan made a nearly imperceptible movement and Amber realized he was baring his holster.

  “Such matters,” the priest said, “are not spoken of in the streets. The Holy Fire that cleanses all souls is beyond my humble power.”

  Colin bowed again, saying, “I’m sorry. I did not mean to offend you.”

  The Bythian regarded him for a long second. Then he said, “You are forgiven. Our contacts with your people lack much. Trade this for that, but souls are always last to be given, eh?” With a dry gargle at the back of his throat, the alien turned away, facing the hovercraft.

  He made a pass through the air, and a fragrance wafted out, even as the doors opened and the ramp pushed out, and she could smell smoke and oil. She saw the sunlight glint off the armor of the men waiting for the ramp to settle and she wanted to cry out for Jack, but her voice stayed dry in her own throat.

  The High Priest had looked directly at her when he had said that the Holy Fire cleansed all souls. He had not meant all Bythian souls. He had meant all souls. She knew it.

  Amber felt goose bumps on her arms and lightly chafed them with her hands, shivering in the hot afternoon, feeling incalculably dirty.

  Kavin and Jack led the fighters onto the ramp. Amber felt the crowd trembling around her as they pressed a little closer to see these off-world killing machines.

  The High Priest waved for Colin to join him. “Who is that in the armor of all lightness?” the alien asked.

  “That’s Jack Storm,” Colin told him. “He’s a good man. If he killed, he did so in defense of others. He once risked his own life so that many others, including myself, might be saved.”

  A hiss of indrawn breath. The High Priest looked to the clergyman. “Are you sure of this?”

  “I saw it myself.”

  “And might it be done here on Byth
ia?”

  “I don’t see why not.” Colin paused.

  Jonathan muttered at his back. “You’re treading on local prophecies, sir.”

  The saint nodded abruptly as though he knew what his aide and bodyguard warned him of.

  The High Priest countered, “Then I am not needed here.” Suddenly, he whirled, and was gone, leaving behind a perfume of such exquisite delicacy that Amber nearly cried.

  Jonathan made a noise under his breath before asking of Colin, “Your reverence, what is the Holy Fire?”

  “We had Noah’s Flood… they had a burning fire.”

  What had Colin just done to Jack?

  Amber wedged her body forward. “What did you say about him?” she asked savagely.

  Colin gave her a bemused look. “I merely told him Jack was a hero.” He placed a comforting forearm about Amber’s shoulders. “Relax, little one. Your Jack is safe.”

  Fears locked in her throat, Amber stared fiercely out to the hovercraft as they descended. She watched Jack take his helmet off and look for her.

  She choked. She wanted to cry, “Run while you’ve got the chance!”

  But she didn’t, and because she didn’t, she would never forgive herself.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jack held Amber with a fierceness that made her give a short cry. “Jack! You’re bruising me!”

  He let her go reluctantly only to find himself confused when she held onto him tightly as though having changed her mind about letting go. She tugged on his gauntlet.

  “What is it?”

  “Bend down.”

  Tall, he was even taller in battle armor. He bent down as Kavin passed and greeted St. Colin. She pressed her lips to his forehead.

  “What kind of a greeting is that?”

  Amber smiled as he straightened. “I was checking for fever.” She traced her fingertips coolly down his left temple. “You’ve been known to have trouble coming out of cold sleep remember?” She took up his hand and squeezed it.

  “Careful. It might be loaded,” Jack said, totally distracted as another part of him sprang to life and told him, damnit, that it hadn’t been asleep for two months. He wondered if he blushed and hoped the dirt and sweat of battle obscured it. He looked around. Most of the Bythians had begun leaving with their High Priest. He let out a low whistle.

  “What are they?”

  “Who?”

  “The Bythians,” Amber whispered. “Are they really snakes?” She’d heard the East Quarter merchant slang for a Bythian was snakeskin.

  “Only in the same way a platypus is a duck,” he answered.

  “A what?”

  The tension between Kavin and St. Colin had drawn Jack’s attention. He stepped out. “What’s going on?”

  The Walker bodyguard bristled visibly. Colin held up a hand. “Back off, Jonathan. I have the situation under control.” His deep brown eyes, mild and intelligent, sized up Jack. “We’ll discuss it at your new headquarters, perhaps?”

  “I’m not a goddamn hero.”

  “I never said you were,” Colin told Jack mildly.

  Jonathan still eyed Jack with an expression Amber did not like, and he’d kept his holster bared, his palm inched toward the butt of his handgun. She made plans to distract him if Jack got really upset.

  Kavin said something then, having listened with a bemused expression while the saint and the soldier had been arguing in the nearly empty South Quarter villa. “I thought you two were friends.”

  The Knight turned away, making a disgusted gesture with one hand, his four-fingered right hand. “I do my job, that’s all. And I don’t like being set up as part of some alien’s prophecy.”

  “I don’t think that will happen, Jack,” Colin said. “But if it does, I’ll take care of it. The Bythians are very interested in keeping us out of their affairs.”

  “And so you used me to buy your way in?”

  “Sort of.” Colin sat down on a duffel bag, as there was very little else in the way of furniture yet in the barracks. The noise and clatter of equipment being unloaded in the back made it hard to hear him. “It’s been difficult for me to get a start investigating. Sometimes stirring up a hornet’s nest or showing them I have a stake in their religion will do the trick. I’m sorry if I offended you, dear boy, but what you did at Lasertown was heroic.”

  “It was stupid, but I couldn’t think of anything else.” Jack stopped pacing.

  One of the new recruits came in, whispered something in Kavin’s ear, then stepped to the back of the room and stayed at attention. The commander smiled, cutting a network of lines into his tanned face. “The sonics curtain is up and operating. You may talk about whatever you wish without being overheard.”

  “Except by present company,” Amber muttered. She dropped down next to Colin.

  The Walker looked keenly at Jack and then at Kavin. “I won’t mince words,” he said. “What are you boys doing here?”

  “We’ve been told to cover Dominion assets,” Kavin said, and smiled.

  But the Walker prelate wasn’t smiling. He was angry and when Jack recognized that emotion emanating from the man, he was surprised.

  “After months of petitioning the emperor and the Dominion, we now have official permission to join the embassy staff, including the ability to make field surveys of our own. I want to know if you have intentions of interfering with my work.”

  Kavin’s eyebrow arched elegantly at Colin’s words. “And you brought your militant wing with you just to polish the silver?”

  “No. Because… it was suggested that I do so, for protection.”

  “Then let’s just say it was suggested that we follow you to make sure your zeal for answers doesn’t jeopardize Triad or Dominion concerns. I don’t have orders to interfere, but the Thrakian League has suggested strongly on several occasions that the Bythians wish to sever all ties with the Dominion and join the League. We’re here to protect you and anyone else human who might be caught in the middle. And, I’d say our welcome confirms a volatile situation.”

  Colin muttered something the others did not quite hear, except for Amber. He was too old to blush, but several of the fine veins in his fair skin had broken with age, and now crimsoned deeply. He stabbed the air with a finger. “Then why let us in in the first place? Damnit, we’re being used by Pepys to justify sending you in,” he said. “And I’ll not take it any longer. I should have known the old fox had something in mind when he gave in so quickly. He wanted you boys here and didn’t know how to get you in.”

  “He’s stopped just shy of declaring war.”

  Amber gave Jack a worried look.

  Kavin cut in with his smooth voice. “Then there’s no doubt it’s the Thraks.”

  Colin stood up, and the deep blues of his over-robe swirled about him. “I’ll have aerial recon of strategic areas sent over. You may find what the Thraks are doing interesting.”

  “What I think is interesting and what I can do something about may be two entirely different things.”

  Colin met Kavin’s expression. The wispy headed older man smiled broadly. “Are you any less devious than your emperor?”

  “I’m a whole hell of a lot less devious.” Kavin duplicated the grin. “But I can try. How soon can we have printouts?”

  “I’ll have them tonight for the embassy dinner. You are going, aren’t you? I understood all the officers would be there.”

  Kavin stifled a groan, and nodded.

  Colin gathered up Jonathan, saying, “Come on, my boy. We’ve a bit of praying to do.”

  Jack watched as the man left, his bodyguard in his wake. He took Amber by the elbow as she started to follow. Their reunion had been all too brief and he noticed that she looked pale and distracted. “How are you?”

  She shrugged. “You should know. It’s not the sleep, it’s the dreams.”

  “Still? I’ll be busy setting up shop and a staging area today. Can I see you tonight?”

  “At the embassy dinner.” She gave a
half-smile.

  Jack hesitated. “What is Colin talking about?”

  “We picked up some strange stuff by accident while trying to bounce some waves off a curious rock site in the north. He doesn’t know what it is. My guess is, he hopes you do. I’ve got to go.”

  “All right.” He let go of her reluctantly and watched her run after Colin.

  Kavin made a clucking sound against his teeth. “I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “The Thraks have most of this city under surveillance—I saw the installation when the hovercraft brought us in. It’s hard to miss that kind of handiwork.”

  “But not very sophisticated.”

  “No. It would seem not. They must be walking a fine line between bringing in the best of their technology—and not revealing it to the Bythians.” Kavin walked over to Jack’s side and joined him, looking out at the street where Colin, Jonathan and Amber’s lithe frame could just be seen in the distance. “I’ll give you a little time, and then we’ll have to go into debriefing.”

  “All right.” Jack straightened from the doorway where he’d been leaning. He located his duffel and hoisted it, before heading to the wing shown him earlier as officers’ quarters. Bogie should be waiting on his equipment rack when he walked in.

  Word of Thrakian involvement had sent a bristle up his spine. He couldn’t help it. He wondered if Dhurl had beaten them to Bythia and would be joining them at the Embassy that evening. And, if he did, who would keep the two of them apart.

  But, as much as Pepys’ duplicity rankled at St. Colin, it heartened Jack. He’d not seen much concern for the Thrakian presence in the trading and war lanes since he’d awakened years ago, and there had never been a way for him to protest or call for an alert against it without exposing himself. Perhaps the Treaty was weakening enough that Pepys—even if the Dominion didn’t—could recognize their clear and present danger. He’d first donned the armor to fight Thraks. He’d do it again, he thought, as he crossed into the barracks’ wing where he was housed.