The tank slowed to merge into one of the lateral alleys of the outskirts. Jade slammed her hand twice against the rooftop in thanks before vaulting down from the roof. The spaceport loomed a few kilometers ahead, and she resumed her jog.
At the pedestrians’ gate, Jade raised her face toward the camera. The black box with the swiveling eye sat on top of the gate’s right column, recording every visitor’s entrance to the spaceport. Hanging cables and discolored stain gave the machine an outdated and out-of-service look, but Jade knew better. Belarus Spaceport used state of the art technology and the best technicians this side of the galaxy. By the time she reached the terminal, her identity would be known to the port authorities. She counted on that.
Jade kept her pace hurried, making a beeline for the Olympus Air booth.
Behind a thick, reinforced-plasteel glass window, an older lady stared at Jade with unseeing eyes, her eyelids furiously blinking as she tapped her manicured nail against her temple.
“Howdy,” Jade called, knocking on the glass three times to draw the lady’s attention, but she couldn’t break the woman’s immersion in her holofeed.
Highly addictive, the latest fashion in neural implants were outlawed everywhere but in the Outer Belts, because its users would lose themselves in virtual worlds of their own creation, and death by starvation was a common side effect of the holofeeds. One of the many perks of living at the edge of civilized society was that cutting-edge expertise wasn’t regulated, giving research the much-needed freedom to roam beyond the pesky restriction of ethics. On Belarus, and the other Edge Planets—as they liked to call themselves—labs popped up like mushrooms every day for unscrupulous scientists to try their hands at playing gods.
Jade punched the plasteel and waited before striking the surface a second time and with greater strength, but not at full power yet. She wanted the clerk to notice her presence but didn’t want to cause a coronary. It wasn’t her intention to kill anyone at the moment. First, it wouldn’t do her any good, and second, she didn’t want to.
Suddenly, the idea of terminating a life didn’t sit well with her.
That was odd.
Jade didn’t have time to ponder the thought because the older lady’s eyes finally focused on the surface in front of her and saw she had a customer.
“What can I do for ya?” The woman’s voice came through from the speaker at the side of the window.
“One skip to Marlin,” Jade said, directing her words toward the speaker.
The woman seemed unable to keep her focus on Jade, and her sight wandered, giving her a cross-eyed look as she tried to look back at her customer. “Final destination?”
“For now.” Jade reached for the rectangular square in her pants’ pocket and plastered it against the synthetic glass, her credentials flashing bright.
One Janet Reiss from Lupine, mother of two, was about to book a one-way trip to one of the most isolated frontier planets in the Rim Sector. Her fake credentials would give the Academy the idea that she was trying to sneak out without them being the wiser.
“What class would be your preference?” the woman asked.
“Economy.” It was the less expensive option on an interstellar spacebus, and she could still barely afford the fare.
The woman grabbed a pair of clockwork glasses from the counter in front of her and wore them on her aquiline nose. The lenses opened wide and clicked, taking pictures of Jade’s card. Once the information was safely stored in the Olympus Air’s database, the older lady removed the heavy contraption, revealing a red welt on the bridge of her nose where the metal frame had pressed against her thin skin.
“Is there anything else I can do for ya?” the woman asked, her gaze now fully focused on Jade.
“That’ll be all,” Jade answered.
“You’ll be traveling aboard Zeus Omnipotent. Olympus Air wishes you a great flight.” A low humming accompanied the woman’s parting words, and a moment later, a thin, rectangular card was ejected from a slit in the plasteel that immediately closed back.
Jade caught the ticket in midair and brought two fingers to her temple in farewell, though the woman already appeared to be re-immersed in her virtual world. She walked past the booth and stopped at the gate where she swiped the card before a sensor that opened the entrance to the terminal behind.
Following the flashing arrow of the color indicated on her ticket, neon purple, she walked further inside the Olympus Air dock. Her spacebus was moored at the opposite end of the terminal, and she strode resolutely across the floating boardwalk, cutting through the crowd. When she reached Zeus Omnipotent, she couldn’t help but agree on the name chosen for the gargantuan cruiser that stood ten stories tall and hovered with its sails and lateral wings folded. What a sight the vessel must be, navigating the outer space.
“Welcome aboard,” a lovely stewardess said as soon as Jade stepped onto the staircase that led inside the spacebus. The brunette wore clockwork glasses that scanned Jade’s ticket. “Mrs. Reis, Artemis will be your attendant during the voyage, and she will accompany you to your cabin.”
Jade climbed to the top of the stairs where another lovely brunette presented herself as Artemis.
“Please, follow me,” the attendant said.
If it weren’t for the small clicks that punctuated her every movements, one could forget the fact that only clockwork automatons worked for Olympus Air. It was the company’s great source of pride that their customer service was rated the best in the galaxy year after year. A non-human crew served Jade’s purpose perfectly.
“The temperature inside Zeus Omnipotent is kept at 26 Celsius, but in your cabin, you can regulate the air to your liking,” Artemis said before launching into a detailed summary of all the exciting activities one could do aboard.
Jade stopped listening to the automaton and took stock of her surroundings as the attendant led her to her seventh-story cabin. They rode a transparent elevator that moved both vertically and horizontally.
“The fitness center with the salt-therapy pools is at the end of the hallway.” The attendant pointed her tapered finger at a glass wall before turning on her heels and resuming the walk in the opposite direction. She stopped before a door that sported a flashing plaque with Mrs. Reis written on it. “Please, place your hand on the door,” she said.
Jade pressed her palm against the surface. Small vibrations followed by pleasant heat warmed Jade’s hand.
“From now until the end of your voyage, the cabin will only let you inside.” The satisfaction in Artemis’s voice resembled the real deal, and it explained why Olympus Air had been accused in the past of catering to a special clientele that would pay huge sums to experience non-restrained sex.
At least those perverts are unleashing their baser instincts on machines, Jade thought, but the idea disgusted her anyway.
Artemis showed her all the amenities of her economy cabin. Build like a miniature studio apartment, the place was divided in two areas by a wall that was made up of shelves. On one side of the screen lay a kitchenette with a table and two chairs. On the other side, there was the sleeping area. The bathroom was enclosed in the opposite wall.
Artemis walked the few steps from the kitchen to the bedroom and grabbed the mask dangling over the headboard. “If you don’t wish to participate in any of the social activities, but you’d rather sleep during the transit, Zeus Omnipotent offers the latest in sensorial-deprivation therapy.” She brought the mask to her face and mimed the act of inhaling. “One good whiff, and you will wake at destination. Sleep while rejuvenating. Food and liquids are administered through the mask, and the servo-bed takes care of any corporeal needs.”
It might have been Jade’s imagination, but she thought she heard a disgusted tone when the automaton said, “Corporeal needs.”
“If you instead prefer to mingle with the rest of the passengers, meals are communal, and participation in the various activities is strongly encouraged,” Artemis said, stepping toward the hallway.
“If you need anything else, just call me.” She pointed at the small gramophone on the nightstand.
“I’ll sleep,” Jade said.
“Excellent choice.” Following her programmed script, she then said, “For an additional fee, I can place you in one of the sleeping docks on the tenth floor. The entire bay is a medical facility. There, your vitals are constantly monitored, whereas here, I will only check you at the beginning and at the end of the voyage. Also, in the sleeping dock, tailored treatments are administered if needed. We can accommodate special requests like cosmetic treatments and weight management.”
“No. I’ll remain here.”
“Excellent choice,” Artemis repeated. Their vocabulary, although extensive, always gave them away. She turned on her high heels and strode toward the sleeping bay. “Let me set it up for you.” She stopped by the bed, grabbed the mask from the hook, then leaned over the headboard to depress a button. A small, rectangular tray soundlessly protruded from the wall. While holding the mask in one hand, Artemis placed her free palm against the surface of the tray. Under the pressure of her hand, it lit with a white luminescence, while the headboard whirred in response, and the mask hissed.
“Please, lie down.” The automaton indicated the bed.
Jade lowered herself to the firm mattress that contoured around her, welcoming her body into a cocoon. Artemis dimmed the light with a swipe of her hand over a circular portion on the wall above Jade’s head. “It takes less than ten minutes for the chemicals to enter the system and induce long-term sleep. Olympus Air is the only company that offers the Rest & Rejuvenate program. Recreational drugs and lack of sensorial stimuli create the perfect environment to achieve a dreamless state that you will gradually exit once we enter Marlin’s orbit.” She lowered the mask, but stopped to ask, “Do you have any questions?”
“No. I’m ready.” Jade took a big gulp of air as the mask descended upon her face.
Artemis’ gentle fingers probed at the edge of the supple plastic of the mask. The material shaped itself around Jade’s cheekbones, adhering to her skin. “Good. Now breathe in.”
Jade made it look like she had complied with the suggestion. Instead, she closed her mouth tight.
“I’ll welcome you back in thirty-two days.” Artemis smiled before giving Jade her back and walking to the outer door.
The mask started pumping in earnest, and Jade waited for the panel to click back in place before freeing her face. Her cheap ticket came with the minimum of cabin upgrades, and her actions triggered no alarm. A whiff of citrus and red lavender reached her nostrils. Her senses reeled for a moment, but breathing fresh air cleared her lungs of the minute amount of chemicals she had inhaled.
A few minutes later, she exited her cabin. On the outside plaque, the sign now said, “Do Not Disturb. Sleep in Progress.”
The good thing about a ship manned by a clockwork crew, even one as sophisticated as the one serving Zeus Omnipotent was that automatons trusted humans. Those machines were built to obey commands and never to doubt their clients’ intentions.
Nobody stopped Jade when she walked out of the shuttle a few minutes later.
14
Aboard the Glory, life dragged as if time had frozen in place. Or so Dragon thought, watching the galaxy drift by as he lay in a recliner in the observation deck.
The spaceship was the largest of his fleet and built to sustain a full crew and up to five hundred passengers in luxury and comfort. Communal bays connected the private quarters through floating gardens and pools. High ceilings broadcast the Solarian sky and its suns and moons, following the same day and night cycle of the planet.
The entire ship had been built to give the idea of spaciousness and freedom, but Dragon had never felt as caged just one day into the voyage.
A month had passed since, and his mood hadn’t improved. If anything, he felt like slaying enemies would be a rather welcome diversion.
One of the reasons for his atrocious humor, the most important one, was Lauren’s and Gilda’s presence on the ship. More Lauren’s than Gilda’s, but they were one package, after all. Where one went, the other followed.
“Good morning, High Lord.” Lauren’s voice reached him from over his shoulder.
Dragon reminded himself that the princess was a victim of the Solarian system and that he had to be patient with her. Lately, it seemed like he had to repeat the words over and over in his head before he started any conversation with her.
“Good morning, Lauren.” He turned and opened his arm to indicate the vacant lounger by his side.
She sat and turned to him. With her hands on her lap and her perfect posture, she looked at peace. From the outside, they could have been old friends, enjoying the quiet of the deck. Nothing was further from the truth.
Once a day for the last month, they’d had this conversation where she would try to convince him that the best course of action would be for him to impregnate her. Since her family lawyers had accepted Dragon’s generous settlement—something she wasn’t happy about—she couldn’t ask for a wedding any longer, but that didn’t stop her from coming up with other requests. Lauren wanted to become the mother of dragons and wouldn’t take no for an answer. All that talk about starting a new life on Celestia had been a ruse to travel with him.
“Have you thought of my last proposal?” she asked in a deceptively low tone.
The day before, she had come up with a slightly different reasoning, involving advanced medicine and the greater good of Solaria and the shifter race, and asked him to think about it.
“My answer is still no, and it won’t change tomorrow or ten years from now,” he said. “But I have a question for you.”
Lauren tilted her head. “And what would that be?”
“Why are you so hell-bent on traveling a road that won’t lead you anywhere?” he asked, tired of trying to understand this woman. “You could have anyone.”
“I was promised I would become the most powerful woman on Solaria, and that my name would be forever remembered,” she answered without missing a beat.
“But you are a powerful woman and can still carve a path of your own,” Dragon said, feeling the sense of guilt that always accompanied their conversations rearing up. He braced for her reaction.
This time, though, Lauren shrugged off his answer with, “We’ll talk about it again tomorrow.”
Usually, her response would be explosive, followed by threats. For the entire month of the journey, vicious and vindictive had been the tenor of her interaction with him. He had on good authority that she treated the other passengers with more grace, reserving all her venom for Dragon.
Lauren raised a brow at the surprised expression he couldn’t hide. “What?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he hurried to say, knowing when it was best to skirt a battle.
“I have a question for you as well,” she said.
He cautiously nodded his assent.
“What is it about that woman that would make you renounce your progeny?” she asked without preamble, playing with her pocket watch, snapping the lid open and close.
Dragon wondered if she had switched tactics and taking him by surprise was her new approach, but decided to answer her question anyway. “It won’t make sense to you, but since the first moment I saw her, I knew she was the one for me.”
“Organic versus manufactured,” Lauren said. A tinge of sadness colored her statement. “My scent should have worked as a beacon to you. I was built to entice your senses.”
“I am truly sorry.” He didn’t venture into the realm of the it’s-not-you-it’s-me spiel, and decided to change subject altogether. “We’ll reach Celestia tomorrow.” He pointed his chin at the window bay.
A brilliant blue and green globe sat in the middle of the black outer space. White swirls rotated around the planet. Gabriel’s homeland shone as bright as a diamond, mesmerizing for millennia the travelers who wandered this corner of the Fifth Moon System.
“Gabriel told me
once that Celestia is like a siren from the ancient Terran tales, drawing spacefarers in, but never letting them go again,” Dragon said, relaxing against the plush back of his recliner.
“I’m looking forward to visiting it.” Lauren leaned sideways.
“Vampires chose that planet because it’s the sunniest one in the galaxy, and it’s made mostly of water,” Dragon said.
“Is it true that vampires couldn’t walk under the sun?”
Dragon nodded. “On Earth, they were relegated to the shadows.”
“That must have been a very constrained existence.” Lauren’s voice was soft.
“I suppose it was,” he said.
It hit Dragon that the first time Lauren had ever left King’s Ridge was when he escorted her to Sol Manor. From one guarded citadel to another. Growing up in one golden cage only to be moved into a slightly different one. He couldn’t even fathom what passed through her mind as she observed Celestia getting bigger and bigger. The world must have looked different through her eyes.
“I’ll ask Gabriel to take you sightseeing.” He angled his body to face her instead of the window wall.
Tilting her chin up, she gave him a raised brow that was much more reminiscent of her usual warlike attitude. “While you try to reason with the Assassin Academy to save your assassin’s life.”
“As well as my own, but yes,” Dragon answered. He was ready to barter his life to save Jade’s, but Lauren didn’t need to know about his plan.
“At least, you aren’t the deceiving type.” Lauren swung her legs to the floor and unfurled with the elegance only extensive training in the art of seduction could impart. “See you tomorrow.”
Her parting words read like a menace, but her tone lacked the sharp edge Dragon was accustomed from her. He focused back on the sight outside the Glory, wishing he were already on Celestia.
The Fifth Moon's Assassin (The Fifth Moon's Tales Book 5) Page 6
