We go back to the meeting room, where Joren's more lucid at least, while Kelbara still looks pale and in pain. Tauren immediately turns to his father, sitting down next to him. “What else did she say, Father?”
Joren swallows, and I recognize that his pain isn't at the actual assault or the poisoning, but at the betrayal of his wife. He sat by her side for the days that it took her to come out from under the haze of the drugs she'd been dosing herself with, and the whole time Joren's been loyal and loving. I thought that they'd come to some sort of understanding, some sort of agreement and peace. I guess Joren did, too.
“She said... she said that the Slavers were the way to go. She wanted me to throw my support behind them, to leave the palace and join the Slaver Rebellion. I couldn't, and I told her that the Slavers were wrong. You... Audra, you've shown me how wrong I was. But Tauria just laughed at me, said I'd fucked too many human slaves, and was being led by my cock. She sprayed me with something in one of her rings..... then something about friends and halnocite.”
“Oh shit,” Tauren whispers, looking at me. “Halnocite, of course!”
“What's halnocite?” I ask, and Joren's face goes pale as well. “Anyone?”
Mogar clears his throat, speaking up. “Hover technology is built around halnocite, a mineral that is found mostly in the equatorial regions, some in the polar regions... and on the far continent. If the Slavers have based themselves there, digging them out will be very difficult.”
“They would do just that,” Kelbara says, forcing herself to stand up. “I guarantee it, my father was invested in various halnocite mines, along with other things. He knows the effects.”
“Jensen, you've got to stop them before Ambaris and Tauria can reach transport to those areas,” Tauren says. “If Tauria can reach the Slavers, she can come out as a rallying point for the Slavers and their sympathizers. The disjointed terrorists can become an army overnight.”
I nod, getting to my feet. “I need a squad. Can I take your Lancers?”
“A squad of Lancers will be waiting for you, head to the south. The tunnels all come out to the south in what had been marshy countryside back then. It's the Narrows now.”
The Narrows. The word makes me shiver, honestly. The one area of the capital that, even before the current troubles, was the area that only the most foolish or desperate went to live, it's controlled by criminal gangs to the point that even the police don't venture there except in force. But I can't go in force without raising a ruckus. “I'll need weapons and armor then.”
“I'm going with you,” Kelbara says, turning to me. “You need my help.”
“I think I can lead a squad without getting help from a girl with broken ribs,” I immediately reply, before sighing. “I appreciate your courage Kelbara, but you're hurt.”
“Don't make me go pick up another rock somewhere,” she growls, getting chest to chest with me, staring up into my eyes. I'm aware of her presence, the strength in her body and how... just how cute she looks, heaven and stars. “Ambaris is my father, and you have nobody on the entire planet who knows that man better than me. King Tauren might tell you where to go for these tunnels, but I know him, and I can tell you more about where he's going to go next.”
“Take her,” Tauren says, no room for arguing in his voice. “Equip yourselves with gear from the Lancers, and then get on hoverbikes. The tunnels have escape sleds, not as fast as a bike but they'll still have a lead.”
I nod, swallowing my frustration. Instead I break eye contact with Kelbara and look at Tauren, nodding. “As you wish. Call me in the air, with which part of the Narrows to go to.”
“Of course. Good luck, Jensen,” Tauren says, his eyes saying more. He'd like to come with me, I can see it in his body language. He's not the sort of leader who wants to sit on his ass and send people out like pawns in a game, but he cannot leave the palace for this. I can read it in his eyes. If he could, he'd be the one leading the search, not me.
That's enough for me, and I turn, leaving the meeting room, Kelbara a step behind. She's still in pain, I can hear that in the whistle of the air through her nose, but she keeps up. I hope it continues. And I hope that Kelbara doesn't get hurt.
Chapter 3
Kelbara
The hoverbike rumbles underneath me as we swing around the landing area, my ribs still aching, but the ache is fading by the minute. The treatment the Lancer medic injected me with has my bones knitting, but still every breath is difficult, especially in this Lancer armor that I've borrowed from one of the Royal Lancers at the palace. At least they took my joke seriously, and my powerlance has been upgraded to the newest officer's model. Along with my monomolecular wire lash, something I’d never given up since I turned twelve, I'm well-armed... if hot and uncomfortable. Ten more minutes, my ribs just need ten more minutes.
“Set down there!” Jensen says, directing the six Lancers with us. We put our bikes down in front of one of the shuttle stations in the Narrows, one of the few places you can set down in the marshy terrain. Jensen looks around, checking our position on his bike's readout. “Okay. You three, go east to the first exit. You three, go north to the second. Kelbara, you're with me, we're checking out the third to the south.”
“Orders, sir?” the Lancer squad leader says nervously. “If we find them?”
Jensen sighs, swallowing at the enormity of the question. The Lancers have, from the moment they joined the army, been trained to be loyal to Tamaria, and for most of them, Tauria's crown has represented Tamaria. Despite the changes of the past three months, that's a lot to overcome. “Try to disable if you can,” Jensen finally says. “But do not risk your lives for a disabling shot. Lethal force is authorized against Ambaris and Tauria.”
The Lancers head off and Jensen sets a tough pace through the alleys and streets of the Narrows. It's muggy, the air seems to hang like a thick blanket and everything has a greenish tinge to it from the constant battles with moss and mold on everything. As we move, I can see the residents flinching back, some in fear and some in anger at the sight of Jensen. “You're a popular guy around here.”
“Not worried about being popular, that's Audra and Tauren's jobs,” Jensen replies with a glance at a small flexi that he's pulled from his pocket, where a readout on it is giving him directions. He's all business, the playfulness I saw in the workout area gone as we make our way into the Narrows. “A hundred meters, we turn left.”
“Why'd you bring me with you instead of some Lancers?” I ask, checking my lance is set properly. “Plasma or Gauss rounds?”
“First your ribs. I don't want them getting hurt if I can help it. As for the second reason... your comment just now, that's why I brought you,” Jensen replies. “You're willing to use Gauss rounds against Tauria and Ambaris. I don't think the Lancers are. It's also why I sent them the directions I did.”
“You think this is the exit they're using,” I finish, setting my lance to Gauss rounds. I know Ambaris, he's not going to be one to take down like a couple of street thugs. “You know, this won't be easy. Ambaris has lots of connections in the criminal underworld.”
“Figures,” Jensen growls, making the turn. “I did too, actually. Three months ago I was a criminal.”
“Point taken. I'm just saying that he knows people who can help him.”
We hear people up ahead, and I pull my lash for my left hand. I've trained with it to the point that I can use the deadly weapon with either hand, and it's easy to conceal. I can use that to my advantage.
We come out into a small square, where a group of Narrows residents are gathered around a small hoversled. I've seen them before, they look like hoverbikes that you use lying down and steer with just one hand by your side. Uncomfortable, underpowered, but tiny enough for two people to escape the palace in a tunnel less than a meter tall, this one's already starting to get stripped down, chopped up for parts to be sold in back alley shops. “Everyone stop!”
The crowd freezes at Jensen's booming, deep cry of
command, three people running off as soon as they see who it is. Jensen points his powerlance at the remaining four people, the end crackling with plasma energy. “We didn't do nothing, sir. We didn't do nothing!”
Jensen's voice cuts off the residents even as they start to babble. “I don't care about the hoversled. Where's the people who came out of the tunnel?”
“That's a good question,” a suave, silky voice says from off to our right, and I turn, my lance going up to point at a Tamarian man, his clothes and his confident swagger telling me he's part of the criminal underworld. “A good answer is very valuable, though.”
Jensen's eyes glance to the side, and he nods, lowering his lance. “It could be. Ulstred. How are you doing?”
I'm surprised when the criminal laughs, offering his hand. “Long time no see, Jensen. You look like you're getting fat, don't tell me that noble life is agreeing with you?”
“Fat? You're the one five kilograms heavier than you were six months ago,” Jensen says, shaking. “These your people?”
“They are under my protection,” Ulstred confirms. “Things are difficult for the government currently. It gives the people comfort to know they can get protection from the troubles from somewhere.”
“For a price, of course,” Jensen replies with a raised eyebrow. “And what would be the price of the answer I'm seeking?”
“A good answer or an easy answer?” Ulstred asks, and I've heard enough. My left hand flashes out, the monomolecular wire concealed inside slicing through the gutter pipe next to him in a flash of sparks before returning to my hand like it never happened.
“Next time my hand moves over a few centimeters,” I threaten. “Don't push Lord Jensen's patience, gangster.”
I give Ulstred credit, he doesn't flinch or show any real signs of outward worry, but just adjusts his tie and chuckles. “You are your father's daughter, Kelbara. And yes, I know your father. He and Queen Tauria emerged about ten minutes ago, they headed towards the river.”
“Thank you,” Jensen says. “Anything else?”
Ulstred looks like he's about to delay again, and I twitch my left hand. This time he flinches, his eyes darting nervously towards me as he hurries to answer. “The people who saw it said Ambaris said something about codes. I don't know anything else.”
“Your assistance will be noted, Ulstred. Try not to piss off the cops when they get control of the rest of the city and come down here,” Jensen says, leading us off. Ulstred gives me a foul look as we disappear down an alleyway, rounding a corner. Jensen keeps the lead, his lance out in front of him, this alley is too narrow for us to play nice.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“Ulstred. Smuggler, con man, runs protection rackets in the Narrows,” Jensen says as the alley narrows so much that he has to turn to the side, shuffling along while I keep my eyes on the space above and behind us to make sure we're not going to get surprised. “The current troubles seem to have him wanting a promotion to gang leader.”
“Yet you let him go. Why?” I ask. “We could have shot him.”
“Think for a moment, Kelbara. We could have, but then the Narrows goes into even more chaos,” Jensen says, his voice gruff and slightly impatient. “He's not the only gang leader in the Narrows, and if we killed him, it'd set off a turf war. I don't like it Kelbara, but we take care of the big battles first. Ulstred is smart, he knows he won't be able to ride this run forever. I just hope he knows when to get off and melt into the underworld that we can't get to. He helped the Resistance quite a bit a few years ago. Smuggled me out of the capital in fact after a raid even.”
“So you owe him,” I comment, and Jensen stops, his eyes glancing back at me in anger. “What?”
“He knows who I owe my allegiance to. He also knows that if I need to, I'll put him in jail or in the ground. Never doubt that, Kelbara.”
I swallow, nodding. “Apologies, Jensen. I didn't mean to question your honor.”
“Try not to again,” Jensen says, leading on again. “Although that was a fine move with your wire. Are you always that accurate?”
“I can give you a haircut at three meters and not even scratch your skin if you want,” I joke. “Wanna find out? The shoulder length isn't quite your style I think. You looked better when you had it shorter, like...”
“Like when I was a prisoner of your father?” Jensen asks. “Don't worry Shorty, I do not blame you. In fact, I owe you some gratitude, you were helpful at times. I remember how you'd shut off the drugs a little bit sooner than what your father wanted, that you'd make sure I wasn't as starved as Ambaris wanted. So thank you.”
“If you want to show gratitude, how about you stop calling me Shorty?” I fume, and Jensen stops, looking at me again. He studies my face for a moment, then nods.
“Apologies, Kelbara. No more Shorty. Let's find Tauria and Ambaris.”
We keep going, reaching the river, where the water laps at the worn down, weathered duracrete, evidence of how long the Narrows have been here. “So what now?”
Jensen shrugs, looking left and right. There's a kid nearby, throwing chunks of duracrete into the water, watching the ripples go by. Jensen flags him down. “Hey, kid! You see a bald Tamarian and a rich woman come by here?”
“Yeah,” the kid says in the thick, nasally accent of the Narrows and the poorer areas of the capital, sneering at the answer. “Assholes, they was!”
I can't argue with him, but this isn't the time to see why Ambaris or Tauria may have insulted the child. “Where'd they go?”
“Came by in a boat, heading that way with a big fat man,” the kid replies, pointing downriver. “Man, was she bitchy! Heard them a good minute before I saw them, her sitting up all proper on the seat, and he's steering the boat and looking like he wants to throw her in the water behind her back. The fat guy was next to them.”
Jensen nods. “Sounds like them, all right, although I don't know who the other one is. Where can I get a boat to follow them, kid?”
“My dad owns a boat rental shop,” the child replies. “Follow me.”
It takes us ten precious minutes to get a boat, the shop owner's reluctance to rent out one of his boats to a Tamarian girl and a human man with powerlances immediately disappearing when Jensen reaches into the thigh pocket on his pants and pulls out a Neyla crystal that's easily worth three times what any of the man's boats could be worth and puts it on the counter. “Your best boat, fully fueled, in record time, and this is yours.”
“Yes my Lord!” the shop owner who now suddenly believes Jensen that he really is noble says, hurrying out the front of his shop. Jensen and I follow him down to his docks, where I have to admit his best boat might not look like much, but it does look seaworthy, and the motors on the back look powerful enough.
Jensen gets on his communicator, calling the palace. “Tauren, this is Jensen, come in?”
“How goes the search, my brother?” Audra's voice comes back. “Tauren is speaking with Mogar, we have reports of major action in some of the orbital complexes and the lunar bases.”
“We're trying to get a boat, but....” Jensen starts, but I see a group of nearly a dozen people approaching the dock, most of them armed. Jensen sees it too, and calls back. “Hold on, got company, I'll check in later. Jensen out.”
“Your kind ain't wanted around here, noble!” one of the crowd yells. “Especially you human types!”
I snap my powerlance out and extend it to full length, stepping forward. “Help the boat owner, I'll take care of these rabble,” I call over my shoulder to Jensen. “I'm no good with mechanics!”
“Be careful!” Jensen says, backing away to jump into the boat with the owner, who freezes at first before jumping overboard to save his own ass. Jensen curses loudly but keeps going, preparing the boat as best he can while I assume a fighting stance.
“Ooooh, a midget!” the leader of the group says, an old fashioned but still deadly looking sonomace in his hands. It's a classic of street fighting, useful in are
as where a firearm isn't. It won't punch through my chest armor, but a hit to my head and I'm as dead as if I'd been shot with an exploding tracker dart. Thankfully, it doesn't have any range beyond the handle length. “And she's got a toy!”
“Toy this,” I hiss, hitting the trigger on my lance. I've only had seconds to adjust, I hope I'd done it right from feeling, but I'm rewarded when a plasma charge shoots out the top and hits the guy right in the chest, dropping him where he stands. The group stops, and I hope I've discouraged them.
No dice, it seems. “Get the bitch!” another member of the group yells, and they surge forward, one of them stumbling and falling into the water as I back down the dock, using my lance as a staff when the first attacker gets in range, sweeping them off their feet and sending them crashing to the deck. Still they won't stop. “Get her!”
I don't waste my energy yelling; it isn't worth the effort. Instead I fight, kicking and using my staff as best I can. I get off another plasma charge before someone hits me in the arm with what feels like a blade of some kind, the burning cut immediately numbing my right hand for a moment. Thankfully, I've got my lance in two hands and my left hand is able to jab the lance in the direction of my attacker, the electro-stunner tip catching them in the leg and putting them down.
Plasma balls rip through the air and splash into the crowd, and I realize that Jensen's joined the fight. “Jump in!”
I back up, but I don't need to worry as another stream of plasma balls flashes in front of me, and I turn, running as hard as I can before jumping into the boat. The crowd's scattered, but I don't slow down as I get down and Jensen slams the throttles full ahead, shooting down the river. “You okay?”
I can feel the cut still burning in my arm, but I shrug it off. “I'm fine. We need to check in. The Queen will be worried about you.”
“Can you steer a boat?” Jensen asks. We come around a curve and he throttles down a little, enough that we aren't going at breakneck speed. “I'm better with shuttles and hoverbikes.”
Red Planet: The Revolt (Tamarians Book 2) Page 3
