The bartender’s needle thin eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What’s your name?”
“Fi Mosu.”
“Wait here,” said the barman. He turned and vanished through a doorway behind the bar. After a few moments, he returned and waved Fi behind the bar. “Come with me.”
On the other side of the door was a storage area crammed with boxes. Fi noticed that several of them had flashing security tags. He glanced at the bartender, wondering just what sort of person Polum Jobela was, and how did he know Elo Lis?
The fat bartender had reached a door. He laid his hand against an identity plate and the door slid open. “Go in.”
Cautiously, Fi stepped through the door. He found himself in a richly appointed private office. The walls here were covered with shaped redwood panels that gleamed in the light from discreetly placed illuminators. Thick, hand-woven rugs covered the floor. A fine tapestry from the Lebajo Highlands hung on one wall, depicting lovely sea-spirits overwhelming a handsome young fisherman. There were two curved couches, dark yellow, facing each other across a small redwood drinks table. On one of the couches, sat a man.
“Come in, Mr. Mosu. Have a seat.”
As Fi approached, he studied Polum Jobela with interest. The man was tall and solidly built. He was handsome, with fine dark skin and short red hair starting to turn gray at the scalp. Curiously, he was barefaced. Beneath a dark green robe, he wore orange tights and golden sandals. As Fi sat on the couch opposite Jobela, he saw, with some shock, that the man’s entire chest was covered with tattoos.
Seeing Fi’s reaction to the tattoos, Polum laughed. “Elo didn’t warn you?”
He touched his chest, the motion causing the wide sleeve of his robe to fall back, exposing more tattoos. They ended at the wrist, but covered his forearm so completely, it looked like Polum was wearing a fitted shirt.
“She didn’t,” said Fi. He shifted on the couch. “You’re Utofi?”
Polum shrugged. “I’ve been a lot of things, Mr. Mosu. Does that bother you?”
“Elo said you could open doors with the Defense Authority. Forgive me, but I have to wonder how you could do that?”
“That depends entirely on the door.”
Fi frowned. “Do I have to tell you how sinister that sounds?”
Polum laughed again. “Let me guess. You imagine that I’ll use blackmail or intimidation tactics to get what I want. Right?”
“Is there a way I can answer that question that won’t get me fed into an industrial recycler?”
Polum chuckled. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, young man.”
“Are you saying the Utofi don’t kill people?”
“Only when absolutely necessary,” said Polum, mildly. “And I can assure you, that won’t be necessary in this matter.”
“Have you killed people, Mr. Jobela?”
“Oh, yes.”
Fi stared. He hadn’t expected the man to answer the question, and certainly not in the positive.
“When I was in the Guard,” said Polum. “I fought in the Dilatan Border Conflict. So, yes, Mr. Mosu, I have killed people.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t. . . .”
He waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Now, shall we discuss the story you’re working on? Elo said you were doing a piece on a Guard officer.”
“A fixer,” said Fi.
“Ah. Interesting. What’s his name?”
“John Epcott.”
Polum’s eyebrows shot up. “The Last Human?”
“You know him?”
“One of my daughters went through a xeno phase, a while ago,” explained Polum. “She was fascinated by him. How do you know he’s a fixer?”
“That’s what Elo said, when she saw his service record.”
“Well, if anyone would know a fixer, it would be Elo.”
“What do you mean?”
Polum’s answering smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You should talk to her about her time in the Guard, Mr. Mosu. Ask her how we met. Trust me, it will be very instructive.”
“Maybe later,” said Fi. “Right now, I need information on Epcott.”
“You’ve already got his service record?”
“Yes.”
“I’m assuming you want to know what he was doing at his assignments?”
Fi nodded.
Polum stroked his chin. “Do you have the file with you?”
Silently, Fi handed his PIN to Polum. The Utofi glanced at the file, his face registering vague interest.
“Leave me your comm-code. I’ll be in touch.”
* * * * *
Elo lived in a residential tower, on the west side of the city. Fi went right there after his meeting with Polum. The door was opened by one of Elo’s housemates, a youngish man with light blue hair and the placid expression of a contented herbivore.
“I need to speak with Elo,” said Fi. “Right now.”
He was shown into the day chamber, an airy space decorated in varying shades of blues and reds. Elo was curled up in a chair, reading a PIN. She took one look at Fi and frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Polum Jobela,” said Fi, briskly. “You could have warned me what he was, Elo!”
She rolled her eyes. “Is that what this is about?”
“Elo, he’s Utofi! How can I work with somebody I can’t trust?”
“Polum is completely trustworthy.”
“I don’t know that.”
She frowned. “Do you want off the story?”
“No, I want to work with someone respectable.”
Elo’s expression became carefully neutral. She pulled back the sleeve of her orange dayrobe, baring her arm. There, imprinted on the flesh of her inner arm, was a string of tattoos.
“Don’t you think I’m respectable, Fi?”
Fi stared at her arm. “You’re Utofi?”
Elo nodded, let her sleeve fall back into place. “I am. I have been my entire life.”
“But...!”
“Do you even know what the word utofi means, Fi?”
He hesitated. “I was always told it meant criminal.”
“No. It means outsider. That’s what we were, what we are.” She waved him at a couch. “Sit.”
He obeyed, feeling unsteady. Today had been one surprise after another.
“Have you ever heard of Ijen the Unifier?” asked Elo.
Fi frowned. “Sure. He was the founder of the First Empire.”
“That he was. Old Ijen founded his empire by convincing all of the ancient tribal groups in his part of the world to ally for their mutual benefit. All but one.”
“The Utofi?”
She nodded. “Exactly. Although they weren’t called outsiders at the time. They didn’t trust Ijen or his vision, so they refused to join his alliance. Ijen and his followers retaliated by excluding the tribe. It became a crime to have any business dealings with them. Old Ijen probably expected the group to cave quickly, but they didn’t. They simply left the region.”
“And normally that would have worked. That would have been the end of the problem. But the First Empire was rapidly expanding. Everywhere the outsiders went, they found the First Empire already there, setting down roots. They had no choice but to keep moving, to try to stay ahead of the empire’s expansion. Along the way, their numbers swelled. Others joined them, groups and individuals who couldn’t adapt to the new state of affairs.”
“What happened?” asked Fi, fascinated despite himself.
“Josul the Scourge happened,” said Elo.
“I’ve never heard of him.”
“You might know him as Josul the Blessed. He was the fourth emperor of the First Empire, Old Ijen’s great-grandson.”
Fi shrugged. “Never heard of him.”
“By the time Josul ascended the throne, the Utofi had become a political liability. The First Empire was reaching the limits of its expansion. They were encountering strong resistance from other groups beyond their borders, people
who didn’t wish to be assimilated into the imperial culture. Josul felt that the Utofi were stirring things up, deliberately trying to undermine the Empire.”
“Were they?” asked Fi.
Elo shrugged. “Probably.”
“What happened?”
“Josul went to the priests,” said Elo. “He convinced them that he had been visited by the gods, in his dreams. That they had decried the continued existence of the Utofi. Most of the priests declared the Utofi anathema.” Elo snorted. “An interesting side note is that, after they did this, Josul started building new, lavish temples for them. But I’m sure that was just a coincidence.”
Fi said nothing, just waited for Elo to continue.
“Anyway, until then, the Utofi had always been viewed as outcasts and outsiders, but when the priests’ decision came down, everything changed. The Utofi went from being a group of political dissidents to being a group that the gods themselves opposed. Within a generation, the Utofi were considered a cursed group, harbingers of bad luck, cheats and criminals.” Elo shrugged. “It’s an image that has pretty much stuck with us over the millennia.”
“I didn’t know any of this,” said Fi. He tilted his head. “Why don’t we do a story on this, Elo?”
“If you want to pitch it to another network, go right ahead. But I won’t authorize it for JIN. I’m too close to it, too biased.”
He stared at her, and then shook his head. “Why am I not surprised?” He sighed, fell back onto the couch. “So, is that how you know Polum?”
“Because we’re both Utofi?” Elo looked amused. “Not at all. I met him during my time with the Guard.”
“When you were a fixer.”
Laughter greeted this statement. “Is that what he told you?”
“It’s what he inferred.”
“I was never a fixer,” said Elo, grinning. “Polum was.”
Fi blinked. “He was?”
“Of course. Why do you think I sent you to him? He still has a lot of contacts in the Guard, people in the Defense Authority and Guard Command who owe him favors. As a matter of fact, I think he still does the occasional job for them.” She looked at him, amused. “You look a little stunned, Fi. Would you like a drink?”
“Yes, please. A large one.”
She gave him a small glass of thin, green liquid. Fi took a sip and nearly choked.
“What is this?”
“Thornwine from the Sea of Stones. You like?”
“I’ll let you know when my sense of taste comes back.”
Elo chuckled and took a sip of her own wine. “Now that you know a bit about the Utofi, how do you feel about working with Polum?”
Fi frowned. “He still has a room full of stolen merchandise in his bar.”
“Really? You saw it?”
“With my own eyes. Flashing security tags and all.”
“And yet, the peacekeepers hadn’t arrested him.”
“Well, no,” said Fi.
“Did it occur to you, that the merchandise could have been stolen from Polum and the peacekeepers had returned it?”
“No, it hadn’t.”
She looked at him over the rim of her glass. “For the rest of this assignment, Fi, I think it would be best if you tried to keep an open mind.”
* * * * *
Ikis, the bartender at the Merry Rhymer, glanced up as two men entered the bar. Both men were older, dressed in the nondescript red jumpsuits of Transport Authority laborers. One man had long, pale blue hair while the other was crowned by a thick mane of white. They ambled toward the bar, the bluehair walking with a slight limp.
Casually, Ikis glanced at the small infoscreen concealed behind the bar. Both men had been thoroughly scanned when they stepped through the door, and the small infoscreen was flashing yellow text at Ikis. One of the men was armed.
“I need to see Polum,” said the whitehair.
Ikis raised his needle-thin eyebrows. “You are?”
“Tell him Juv is here.”
Before Ikis could say anything else, his comm chirped.
“Show them back, Ikis,” ordered Polum. “They’re all right.”
Ikis led them to Polum’s office. Inside the fine redwood-paneled room, Polum Jobela reclined on his couch. Nestled against him was a pretty, young woman with long, pale blue hair. Except for her facepaint, she was naked as a babe. Another woman, heavy-breasted, with long, pale yellow hair stood behind the couch, offering Polum a drink.
Polum smiled. “Gentlemen, come in. Sit. Can I offer you a drink?”
The man who had called himself Juv settled himself on the couch opposite Polum. The pretty blue-haired girl smiled at him, pursed her lips.
“I’m here on business, Polum.”
“You always are, Juv.” Sighing, Polum patted the blue-haired girl’s backside. “Off you go, Nisi.”
She pouted, glanced at Juv, then leaned forward and gave Polum a slow, sensual kiss. Juv sighed. His associate chuckled. The yellow-haired woman behind the couch rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Irritated at the reaction to her kiss, Nisi stood. Pouting, she flounced out of the room. Polum watched her go, amused.
“Epimi, would you. . . ?”
“I’ll talk to her,” said the yellow-haired woman.
Gathering up two castoff dayrobes, she walked out of the office. She nodded, cordially, to Juv and his companion as she left.
“Interesting woman,” murmured the blue-haired man. “Bodyguard?”
“You’re very perceptive,” said Polum.
Juv sighed. “We’re not here to discuss your choice of companions, Polum.”
“Of course not.” Polum sipped his drink, eyed the old man. “What can I do for the Defense Authority today, Juv?”
“You’ve been making inquiries into the service record of a Guard officer named Epcott. Why?”
“A friend with one of the commercial news agencies is doing a story on him,” said Polum. “Is that a problem?”
“It could be,” said the blue-haired man.
Polum glanced at him. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Mister?”
“Jovut.”
“Are you Epcott’s handler?” asked Polum.
Jovut smiled. “What makes you think that?”
“You’re obviously Guard,” said Polum. “A high-ranking defender.”
“And you can tell this how?”
“Guard defenders are the only ones who stand like they’ve got a metal rod shoved up their spines.”
“You’re a perceptive man yourself, Mr. Jobela,” said Jovut.
Juv scowled. “If the two of you are done admiring each other, shall we return to the matter at hand?”
Polum shrugged. “Why do you think a news story on Epcott could be a problem? Worried he could cast the Guard in a bad light?”
“No,” said Jovut. “Epcott’s service record is exemplary. He’s received multiple commendations for bravery and leadership.”
“It’s the situations that led to him acquiring those awards that we have concerns about,” said Juv. “Some are of a sensitive nature.”
“How sensitive?” asked Polum.
“Sensitive enough that I’m here warning you away from him.”
Polum frowned, put down his drink. “You sound worried, Juv. I’ve never heard you sound worried before. That makes me worried. And curious.”
Juv began to speak, but Jovut touched his shoulder. “There’s information regarding Epcott’s service, Mr. Jobela, which the Guard and the Defense Authority don’t want on the public infonet. Not yet. Not until we’re ready.”
“Ready for what?” asked Polum.
“War,” said Juv.
Polum blinked, stared at the old man. “Are you serious?”
“Again,” said the whitehair, “I’m here, in this godsforsaken bar, warning you away from this matter. Normally, you aren’t this dense.” He glanced at Jovut. “Honestly, he’s usually much quicker than this.”
“How do you want
me to fix this?” asked Polum.
The old man shrugged. “Tell your friend you couldn’t get anything.”
“That won’t work. If I say I couldn’t get anything, that will trigger alarms with her. She’ll know something’s happening.”
“Really?” said Juv. “Tell me about this woman, Polum.”
* * * * *
Elo Lis stepped into the restaurant and spotted Polum immediately. He was seated at a circular booth in the back, resplendent in a purple shirt festooned with blue and green sequins. Seated with him was a white-haired old man in a two-toned red dayrobe. Polum noticed her and waved.
“Elo. Glad you could make it.” He waved her toward the booth and Elo slid into it, opposite the old man.
“I can’t remember the last time you wanted to meet over dinner, Polum. How could I say no?” She glanced at the old man. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Juv,” said Polum. “An associate from the Defense Authority.”
Elo raised her eyebrows, extended her hands toward Juv. “A pleasure. Elo Lis of the Junian Information Network.”
Juv stroked her palms. “I know who you are, Miss Lis. Polum has told me quite a bit about you.”
“Has he?” said Elo, frowning at Polum. “He hasn’t mentioned you at all, Mr. Juv.”
“I’m a very boring individual, miss.”
“You can’t be that boring, or you wouldn’t be having dinner with Polum.”
“Then let’s say that I strive to be boring, Miss Lis,” said Juv.
“I’m assuming this meeting is about the story I asked you to help with, Polum,” said Elo.
“You assume correctly. But why don’t we order some drinks, before we get down to business?”
Polum summoned a waiter and the three of them agreed on a pot of blue tea. The waiter vanished as quickly as he had appeared, leaving the three of them alone.
“All right,” said Elo. “What’s this all about, Polum?”
“The DA is going to crush Mosu’s story.”
Elo frowned, glanced at Juv. “Why?”
“There are security issues,” said the old man. “That’s all I’m prepared to say at the moment.”
“Why are you telling me this? Polum could have done it for you.”
“Two reasons,” said Juv. “The first is that if Polum had told you we were crushing this story it would have only made you more curious.”
Dawnwind 1: Last Man Standing Page 23
