Hand of Raziel (Daughter of Mars Book 1)

by Matthew S. Cox

  “Yes, sir,” replied the voices of two women and two men.

  Shit!

  Before her brain knew what she was doing, she grabbed the housekeeping cart and pulled it toward room 9-78. Sensing its approach, the door chirped open, and she darted in. A quick glance confirmed a vent in the far wall was too small for her. Her other options dwindled fast.

  Under the bed. No. First place they’d check.

  Bathroom. Nowhere to hide.

  Wardrobes, drawers. No, too vulnerable.

  The room door closed with a soft hiss.

  Shit.

  The voices drew closer outside. If they caught her inside the room, she’d never find out why her father was killed.

  Shit! She whirled about and scratched at the door. That was stupid! I could have just walked past them. Risa’s face flared with warmth. She rushed across the room, taking cover behind an enormous false plant that shrouded the corner by floor-to-ceiling glass. Her blush intensified as she stripped and gathered her clothing into a wad. Panic rose in her heart when the voices in the hall got louder. The door chirped an angry buzzing tone, like an error. She squatted, and with shaking hands coaxed the vent cover open using a single Nano claw. She stuffed her things inside, replaced the grating, and jumped upright, flattening herself against the wall.

  “Is there a problem, sergeant?”

  The door buzzed again.

  “I’m not sure, sir,” replied a male voice. “The door isn’t accepting the fob.”

  “You’re doing it wrong,” said a woman. “Let me try.”

  Risa’s CamNano cyberware swallowed the paper white of her skin with the dusty crimson of Mars rock. Some traces of her long, black hair remained visible when the door opened. Fortunately, none of the soldiers noticed them as different from the shadow of plastic leaves. Whatever the housekeeper doll sprayed on the plant to give it the scent of flowers made her eyes water. Coarse stone at her back felt real. Irregular, fist-sized lumps and painful sharp points poked her from calf to shoulder.

  Four people in camouflage spread out around the room to conduct a cursory search. One man swept a monitoring tool about, hunting for listening devices. A woman checked the bathroom while the other female soldier examined the floor under the bed and then went to check the cabinets. The last man, all six-and-change feet of him, walked straight at her. Risa shut her eyes almost too late. Terror that he had seen the violet glow behind the plant stopped her breathing. Cologne and the scent of man washed over her. A body passed within arm’s reach, followed by a blast of frigid air as the patio doors slid apart. She gritted her teeth in the draft. Every ounce of willpower focused on not shivering.

  Unwilling to peek, she fell back on the Wraith. The comfortable world of grey shapes sliding like ghosts through a field of unending darkness kept her from panic. Its shortcoming lay in blindness when nothing moved.

  Panic. Great, girl. Beautiful idea. Dive into his room and fling off your clothes. You are so goddamned lucky they’re not doing a thermal scan. Guess it’s amateur hour all around today. For a moment, the thought of Pavo getting her recorded farewell message felt like a hand tightening around her neck. Her desire to see him again kept her frozen as the enlisted personnel finished their cursory search. General Everett’s wispy silhouette wandered among the four receding figures, shaking his head in annoyance.

  “Who do you all think I am anyway?” he said into a chuckle. “No one gives much of a crap about me anymore.”

  “That’s because every enemy who knew about you is dead, sir,” said a woman.

  General Everett barked a single ‘hah.’ “You’re not trying to brownnose, are you Sergeant Ako?”

  “No sir. Just admiring your career.”

  “That’s brownnosing,” whispered a voice, indecipherable as to sex.

  “Dismissed,” said the general.

  “Sir,” replied four voices in unison.

  The specters receded through the door, two heading left and two right. General Everett’s wraith-form crossed to a bureau where a heavy thud announced the landing of a suitcase. Tiny beeps rang out before a spring-snap. Risa risked a peek with one eye, estimating he’d turned his back on her. He took off a jacket bedecked with insignia, campaign ribbons, and a small number of medals. His shoes followed, and he removed his shirt before stretching. All the while, he grumbled about being too old for short notice trips.

  “Heh. Counterintelligence.” Everett rubbed the bridge of his nose. “That’s appropriate. Going to this damn meeting is going to counter my intelligence.” He helped himself to the wet bar, drinking right from a tiny bottle. “Oh, well. All I can do is get it over with.”

  This is going to turn into shit no matter what I do. What will Garrison think at the reports after they find me in here naked? I keep telling them I’m not an assassin. Half the ACC thinks I’ve killed two dozen men in bed. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Raziel was trying to talk me out of this the whole time. Why didn’t I listen?

  Her fingers squeezed smooth stone outcroppings while Everett slipped out of his dress uniform pants. In a tank top, boxer briefs, and dark socks, the man with the silvering afro wandering into the back looked harmless. She waited for him to close the bathroom door and ran for the exit. Her body took on a shape defined by random smears of color as she streaked across the room, the CamNano unable to compensate for the rapid motion. She slapped at the wall and door.

  It ignored her.

  No ‘Mini. She looked up at the white ceiling. Raziel, please… I’ve changed my mind. Let me out.

  Silence, save for off-key singing over an operating autoshower. She called to him repeatedly in her mind while pushing on the door without a handle. Risa lost track of time amid a surge of panic until she realized the thrum of the autoshower had stopped. Gasping like a child caught stealing cookies, she spun flat against the wall next to the door, and disappeared. Smooth metal offered a more comfortable surface than stone, though colder.

  General Everett walked nude into the room, old clothes folded over one arm. Risa shut her eyes with a faint cringe, preferring to observe him as a vague grey shape blessedly devoid of detail until he had pulled on a fresh pair of shorts. She remained statue-still for two hours, daydreaming of a fake call to room service to get the door open. For a brief moment, she contemplated showing herself, apologizing, and asking him to let her leave. That almost made her laugh aloud. What possible excuse could she give him for being in here, naked? Some story about frisky lovers playing pranks on each other? He’d never believe me. Innocent people don’t have CamNano. One look at her violet eyes and he’d know who she was. A two-star general giving a speech on counterintelligence would have to know her. She swallowed and kept still while he brought up an entertainment holo and snacked on something crunchy. For an hour and change, he complained and laughed at unrealistic tactics, unbelievable portrayals of the military, and outlandish capabilities of weapons that hadn’t even been invented yet.

  No wonder he’s single. I bet he sucks the fun out of every movie he watches.

  At long last, he shut off the holo-bar and sat on the edge of the king-size Comforgel pad. He stretched, and pressed a plain metal button on the nightstand.

  “Front desk, how can I help you?” said a too-cheery voice.

  “This is General Everett in Room 9-78. I’m requesting a wake-up call at 5:00 a.m. sharp.”

  “Of course, General Everett. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “That is all.”

  Risa waited as the wispy human-shaped shadow leaned back and scooted under the covers. She waited more until the rate of his breathing changed into the beginnings of sleep, and opened her eyes. Night vision chased away the darkness. She stared at the old man’s chest rising and falling, thinking about how seventeen years ago, he ordered her father killed. The kindly old grandfather who lay helpless twenty-five paces away had once been a murderer. In that instant, she forgot about Pavo as the id of a terrified eight-year-old clawed its way to the surface and
demanded revenge.

  She strode away from the wall, disabling her CamNano as she neared at the foot of his bed. The left half of her body caught the glow of simulated moonlight in the window. Ten slivers of gleaming Nano crystal slid out of her fingertips. The General muttered in his sleep as she crawled up onto the bed and hovered over him. He awoke as she held one set of claws above his face. His gaze went from her eyes, to her chest, farther south, then back to her eyes.

  He swallowed, and seemed to be blushing.

  For a moment, she stared at him without saying a word, contemplating simple, wordless vengeance. His clueless expression saved his life. There would be no point if he didn’t understand the why.

  “Y-you must have the wrong room,” whispered General Everett. “I’m too old for you, child.”

  “These aren’t fun toys, Everett. If anything is getting stuck in someone tonight, it’s going to be sharp.”

  “What do you want?” He sounded more confident as he lifted away from sleep.

  “I want to know why you ordered the murder of Colonel Darren Black.”

  Everett reached to scratch his head, but hesitated when she pressed on the claw tips. “I can’t say I remember that…”

  “I remember it like it happened hours ago.”

  “As pleasant as the view is, might we continue this conversation after you’ve put something on?”

  Risa considered taunting him over his body’s unconscious reaction to her lack of clothing. It unnerved her more than anything. Even with her claws a fraction of a second from killing him, his brain had gone there. He’s either fearless or psychotic.

  “You’re blushing, girl. Go ahead, take my shirt.” He pointed. “It’s on the chair.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  “Come on, whoever you are. You’ve obviously had a lot of augmentation. Do you honestly expect an old man like me to get the drop on you?”

  “Before I move, tell me why you had Colonel Black killed.” She leaned up, all but sitting on his stomach, claws raised. “Seventeen years ago.”

  He held his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Darren Black was an enemy of the UCF.”

  “Liar!” She hissed, controlling herself enough not to attract his security detail with a scream. A claw swipe at the wall covered him a smattering of sliced faux rock. “He served the citizens of Mars.”

  “You’re his daughter, aren’t you?” General Everett narrowed his eyes. “I’m sorry, child. It wasn’t the MLF he worked for. It was the Allied Corporate Council. Your father was a spy.”

  “No.” She put her blades at his throat. “Dustblow!”

  “Colonel Darren Black was a lie. The man never existed. My order killed Andriy Voronin.”

  Risa thrust her arm in a halfhearted swipe, which Everett caught by the wrist.

  “My order saved thousands of lives, civilian and military.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she whispered. “My father didn’t have an accent. He didn’t speak Russian at all.”

  The iron-faced General relaxed again, melting into the harmless grandfather. “He wouldn’t have been a very good spy if he sounded like an ACC agent, would he?”

  “You’re a spymaster. You’re playing me now.” Her body trembled with rage and doubt.

  She tried to pull away, but he held her arm. His knee caught her in the gut, a firm shove that tossed her on her back and let him roll on top of her. Speedware mattered little with her wrists pinned to the Comforgel pad on either side of her head. Tears blurred her vision. No. No. I can’t believe him.

  General Everett’s glare softened. He released his grip on her arms and slipped to the side off the bed. She lay motionless as he walked away into the dark, staring at the ceiling. Her somatic response system showed no deceit in the old man’s face. Was he lying? He’s an intelligence agency general… of course, he has to know how to fool a soma.

  “Get up.”

  She glanced to her left, at the tip of General Everett’s sidearm, glinting in the dark. “Shit.”

  isa froze, her eyes fixed on the tip of a pistol six feet away. The distance coupled with her lying flat on her back all but guaranteed he would have enough time to shoot if she made a move. A brigadier general elbow deep in clandestine operations probably wouldn’t waste his one shot. She held her arms out in a nonthreatening gesture as her claws retracted, and eased her legs over the side. Why hasn’t he just shot me already? Patches of ambient light from a false moon slithered over her milky white skin. She scooted to the edge of the Comforgel pad and stood, keeping her hands up.

  General Everett wagged his gun to the side. “Three steps to your left and face the windows.”

  She moved as instructed, closing her eyes to better focus on the ethereal specter his motion created in the blackness. He’d given her almost enough distance for speedware to work. Her brain chugged on what he had said. Shock left her unable to act. The three-hundred-sixty-degree vision used to feel superhuman, but in that moment, the sensation existed somewhere between second nature and freak. A tendril elongated from his phantom as if reaching for something to his side before drawing close. Risa tensed, expecting a pistol to the back of the head. She fixated on his gun arm, bracing for the attack. A hint of marinara sauce in his breath washed over her, laced with some manner of seafood.

  “You surprise me. I thought I’d gotten past this stage of my career.” General Everett chuckled. “You don’t strike me as the assassin type. Too young, too rushed. You hesitated.”

  Her jaw tightened. “I’m not an assassin.”

  He draped cloth over her shoulders. Out of reflex, she grasped it, sliding her arms into a long-sleeved button down shirt and gathering it closed. The material covered her to mid-thigh. She kept her hands together over her chest, hoping the meek posture would soften him.

  “You’re a frightened girl. Are you even eighteen yet? Tell me who put you up to this.”

  “No one. I think I’m twenty-five. I’ve spent my whole life searching for the person who ordered my father’s death. I needed you to understand why I was here, why I wanted to kill you… but you weren’t at all the monster I expected to find.” She stared at the dark windows, tracking a spot of light drifting right to left across the sky. “I was there when it happened. Every time I close my eyes, I see the fire. Ever since those soldiers destroyed my home, I’ve had this nightmare of some maniacal, demonic, inhuman figure I couldn’t wait to destroy.”

  “You made it in here on your own? How did you get past the security downstairs?”

  “I was in the building before you arrived. I knew what room you would be in.”

  “I didn’t even know what room I’d be in until I got here. How―”

  “An angel told me.”

  She endured the patronizing whistle of air through his teeth without visible reaction.

  “Turn around.”

  She did. He stared at her face for a long moment.

  “Yes… perhaps you are who you say. I can see the resemblance. I’m astonished you don’t believe me. Anyone looking at your face could see the Russian in your cheekbones.” Everett let out a breath. “I’m sorry for what we had to do. I… We had no idea you were in the apartment. Our information mentioned he had a daughter, but he kept you off the grid. After what happened with your mother, we weren’t sure―”

  “Why should I believe you?” Risa stared at the rug, mindful of the general’s position without looking at him. “You’re counterintelligence. Maybe you’re just saying what you think will put me off balance.”

  General Everett’s right eyebrow inched upward. “Then why haven’t you attacked me yet?”

  She lifted her gaze from the rug to him.

  The old man had edged far enough away for her to take, but if he had speedware, he’d get off at least two shots before she could reach him. Her metallurgical scan didn’t give her a clear image of any implants; his whole body diffused with soft grey.

  “What happened to my mother?”

  �
��Andriy killed her when he discovered the truth. Figure you weren’t even two then. We’d assumed he killed the pair of you. Men in his position would be trained to destroy any attachments.” Everett seemed past the point of worry, and lowered his weapon. “Her name was Serena Var. She worked for C-Branch, posing as Marisa Donnelly.” Everett set his gun on the desk and activated the complimentary terminal with a wave. A few gestures later, he logged into the UCF Marine Corps network. Important-looking logo screens flashed by. “She married him as part of her mission. We became aware of his infiltration within a week of his arrival on Mars and set up a counterintelligence operation intended to pass along bogus information as stolen secrets and keep us appraised of what they knew. We also held on to a small hope of turning him to our side as a double agent.”

  Risa padded up behind Everett’s high-backed chair, any thought of attack stalled at the images of her father appearing in hologram above the desk. The terminal’s sleek silver housing gleamed with a rainbow of reflected light. Picture after picture flashed by with different clothes, different levels of facial hair. It was obvious he had been under surveillance for years. A woman who could be Risa in ten years hovered at the center of the cluster. General Everett flicked through different screens, some with video, others an oscilloscope display of audio recordings from inside the apartment. A woman’s voice argued with her father. Her father whispered in Russian.

  In one panel, the same woman―is that my mother?―gasped and shouted, “What are you doing?”

  In another, a little girl begged for a certain doll.

  Risa covered her mouth with a hand, refusing to weep in front of him.

  “Agent Donnelly must have fallen in love. She moved too soon because she trusted him. Sadly, her trust was misplaced. Andriy killed her when he realized she worked for us. We were all surprised when we learned he let you live.”

  “He loved me,” she whispered.

  The screens played a slideshow showing a hundred variations of the man she called Daddy meeting with men out in the middle of the Martian desert, many of whom wore ACC uniforms. Older images of him correlated to ACC personnel files: school records, military enlistment, training, medical reports. The files held far too much information, all collated and ready, too prepared to be Everett cooking it up on the fly to trick her.