A Fistful of Credits: Stories from the Four Horsemen Universe (The Revelations Cycle Book 5)

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A Fistful of Credits: Stories from the Four Horsemen Universe (The Revelations Cycle Book 5) Page 6

by Chris Kennedy


  With the codes she was going to steal tonight, the mole would be able to use his access to get them every file they needed to ruin Xarbon’s life.

  It all came down to tonight. She had to come through, no matter what it took.

  “Relax,” Anton said softly. “You’re stalking.”

  Jackie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sorry. I’m just thinking about everything that brought me to this place.”

  “Put that all out of your head. Focus on the here and now. We’ll deal with the past once this is settled.”

  Jackie nodded and focused her attention on their surroundings as a distraction.

  She thought the journey from their very modest accommodations to the part of the ship reserved for the wealthiest passengers said a lot about the Galactic Union. The bare metal bulkheads had transformed by stages as they passed through areas frequented by ever more well-to-do travelers.

  First came the cheap, fake paneling, then real wood, and finally rare woods with subtle highlights that probably cost more than her pinplants.

  The worn carpeting gave way to thicker, richer textures before being replaced by polished stone. Jackie had no idea where the builders had found the stuff, but she’d love a kitchen counter made of the pale gray stone with bright streaks of silver. It was gorgeous.

  Even in the section of the ship reserved for the most powerful, the area closest to the ballroom stood out. Small alcoves hosted what appeared to be works of art in various mediums. Many well-dressed guests lingered, taking in whatever message the work represented to them.

  Then they came around the bend in the corridor, and she saw the ballroom entrance.

  She took one final deep breath and made sure her game face was on. This was it.

  The wood used for the doors was dark and covered in what appeared to be hand-carved scenes of great celebrations. The detail work had to be amazing close up. Perhaps she’d have a chance to examine it more closely before they left.

  Unsurprisingly, Yestrellian security had a significant contingent at the entrance. They were screening all the guests. The overt aspect of that meant checking their identities against the guest list. The more subtle angle was scanning them for weapons of all kinds.

  Anton’s deft touch on her elbow steered her to one side as they approached the security contingent. That brought them in front of a diminutive being that vaguely resembled a chipmunk. A Flatar. Fur covered his—at least she assumed he was male—exposed arms, neck, and head.

  His hands were narrow, and he had exceptionally sharp claws at the tips of his digits. She imagined they would leave some nasty scars in a fight.

  While dressed in what looked to be some type of formal clothing, the security man wore a belt containing a pistol and other accoutrements. He wore a translation pendant on his collar.

  Anton and she also wore pendants that would translate every bit of alien speech into something comprehensible. It wouldn’t do much good to go to a party where you couldn’t understand anything.

  The guard glanced at her for a moment and then focused his attention on Anton. His attitude toward her seemed dismissive.

  “Invitation?”

  This was the moment of truth. If everything went according to plan, they’d go right in. If there was something wrong with their entries on the list or something else tipped security off, they’d be making a rather hasty exit and hiding out until departure.

  Anton reached into his jacket and pulled out a data chip, which he handed to the guard. The being plugged it into a handheld device, which beeped. He pocketed the chip.

  “Enjoy the party,” he said as he gestured toward the ballroom door.

  Anton inclined his head and led Jackie inside.

  The tension that had been building inside her drained away a little. The first potential point of failure was behind them.

  Inside, the sheer scale of the room and the varied number of people almost overwhelmed her. The ballroom was larger than any space she’d ever seen before on a ship. No wonder the ship was so large—it would have to be to generate spin-induced gravity for the space. It was far larger than she’d anticipated, and much more richly decked out than anything she was prepared for.

  Rich tapestries covered the wall like she’d imagine in an old king’s throne room. The stone floor was even more ostentatious here, with veins of what looked like precious metals streaked liberally throughout it. Full-size statuary filled every nook and cranny, and she wondered what they did with it when the ship maneuvered.

  The guests were even more impressive. Jackie had traveled through the Galactic Union numerous times while acquiring her hardware and training. She’d rarely seen so many species represented in one place before, and the exceptions had been a couple of bazaars on major worlds.

  Those places certainly hadn’t included the social classes represented here, either. These people were movers and shakers in their societies. The wealthy and powerful. Just the kind of people the head of an influential corporation would want to associate with.

  To her surprise, there actually seemed to be dancing taking place in the ballroom. Of course, the method of that varied per species, but they somehow managed to work with the soft music coming from the live orchestra beside the dance floor. In fact, multiple species made up at least half of the dance pairings.

  Anton drew her toward the side of the room containing what looked like a grand buffet. That surprised her, too. With so many different species present, how could they possibly satisfy such a wide variety of potential snackers?

  Better yet, would they have anything she would find appealing or even non-toxic?

  Her guardian gestured toward a section of one table. “Those are fit for human consumption, but I’d stay away from about half of the offerings. Just because it won’t kill you doesn’t mean it tastes good.”

  “Thankfully, I’m not here to have an enjoyable meal,” she responded softly. “Though, I suppose I need to get something so that I don’t look out of place. What would you suggest?”

  He pointed at a silver bowl. “Spread some of the paste on the crackers beside the bowl. I think you’ll be pleased with the combination.”

  She eyed him suspiciously, but took several crackers and covered them with the paste. “What exactly is this?”

  “We don’t have time to get into that,” he said somewhat evasively. “We’ll be able to pick up a few glasses of alcohol at the end of the table. Trust me when I say that you’ll find the taste to your liking.”

  Uncertain she fully believed him, she nibbled on a paste-covered cracker and found the flavor was really quite good. It reminded her of seafood, though in a mild sort of fashion. The cracker also had a definite flavor that was similar to fresh bread.

  Pleased, she grabbed more of each and followed Anton as he stepped up to what appeared to be an alien sommelier. The being was tall, gaunt, and his skin reminded Jackie of a shark. His smile showed off teeth that did nothing to dispel her impression.

  She didn’t catch what Anton said, but the man produced a bottle of white wine from Earth. He poured the pale liquid into clear glasses for them.

  A sip confirmed it was wine, and that it was exceptionally good. It complemented the flavor of the crackers and the unknown meat, enhancing them even more.

  Anton led her to the edge of the room where they could see all the occupants. Jackie had no idea how many were present.

  “That’s him up at the head of the room,” her partner said quietly.

  Jackie hadn’t needed him to tell her that. She’d spent an inordinate amount of time studying their target. She’d wanted to know everything she could about the man who’d killed her father.

  Nedget Xarbon was a Gtandan. The species was somewhat taller than humans on average, with a vaguely porcine appearance. Their noses were very reminiscent of a pig’s snout, to her thinking.

  It was impossible to see from this distance, but she knew his skin also sported the same sort of texture and hair as a pig. Not a
cute little potbelly pig, either. A boar hog. All that was missing were tusks to complete the imagery.

  But he wasn’t a pig. Well, not physically anyway. Analogies only went so far when concerning alien species.

  Xarbon stood inside a small cluster of others. Every once in a while, a new individual or group would make their way to join him while others wandered off.

  “How long do we wait before we present ourselves?” she asked as she sipped her wine.

  Anton shrugged slightly. “Long enough to allow his security to relax. They’re watching us.”

  Jackie didn’t see anyone staring at them, but that hardly meant anything to people with galactic technology.

  Her pinplants detected a number of connected devices in the room. Since the ship was still in hyperspace, they weren’t attached to GalNet, but that didn’t mean they weren’t powerful.

  She flashed an overlay across her view and immediately saw which guests were connected to the ship’s local node, or at least had devices attached to it. That included virtually everyone in the ballroom.

  It also included the room’s security. No common area of the ship was completely without surveillance, and the ballroom was thoroughly covered. The feeds were encrypted, but what was the use of having all her training if she couldn’t tap into them?

  She’d already practiced on other areas of the ship and had familiarity with the standard protocols used aboard the liner. The ones protecting the feeds in the ballroom yielded to her in moments.

  A dozen hidden cameras watched various areas of the huge room. Some swiveled to provide a wide-angle view, while others targeted subjects of interest.

  Trade guild rules allowed public monitoring in the visual spectrum, but were more restrictive of audio. She supposed they figured that if you could see it, it was fair game. Amping up a microphone to listen in on private conversations—even in a public space—was forbidden.

  That was why the two of them felt comfortable speaking softly to one another. The low-powered audio jammers they both wore added some reassurance, too.

  Someone had indeed targeted them with one of the cameras. Jackie wasn’t certain which of the individuals in the room was receiving the telemetry—or even if they were present—but she and Anton had obviously attracted some interest.

  “I see what you mean. Do you think it’s going to be difficult to introduce ourselves?”

  He shook his head. “No. The entire purpose of this gathering is to allow anyone to come bask in his presence. The thinking is that anyone who has enough juice to wrangle an invitation is worthy to make Xarbon’s acquaintance. One never knows exactly who will prove useful in future negotiations.”

  She watched the ebb and flow of people seeking out Xarbon’s company. Many stayed only for a few words, but others lingered. Jackie doubted they were exchanging anything more than pleasantries, but there was definitely some kind of subtle power game at play.

  Each person stayed as long as they felt they could comfortably do so or, perhaps in a few cases, overstayed. She watched as Xarbon’s security team discreetly edged one of the latter out of the cluster gathered around their master.

  “I’m going to have to get close to him,” she said softly. “The equipment’s range is quite limited.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. His race shares a variant of humanity’s habit of kissing hands. Particularly with females in their society. I’m not certain, but I believe there may be an aspect of domineering involved. Gtandan females seem to have something of a second-class citizenship.”

  Somehow, that didn’t surprise her. Even if it hadn’t been a species-specific behavior, she suspected Xarbon was something of a sexist. Their mole inside the organization indicated that the only females on his staff filled subservient positions to similar males.

  She’d use that to her advantage, if possible. He’d dismiss her and focus his attention on Anton. So would his security group. That should allow her to get closer than they’d prefer. She’d only need a moment.

  The video feed stayed on them longer than she’d anticipated, but it eventually moved on to other guests.

  She wondered why they were so interested in the two of them. Was it because they were human? Perhaps his security was worried about the potential aggressiveness of one of the few mercenary species in the Galactic Union.

  Only slightly more than three dozen species were warlike enough as a group to provide units to the Mercenary Guild. Humans were not as individually powerful as many of the others, but they’d developed something of a reputation in the last ninety years.

  The Dire Wolves had never been widely known—even inside mercenary circles—but Anton had gained enough experience to know how many species felt around a race capable of bringing wholesale destruction down on their heads. He’d shared that with her as part of her education.

  True, most humans in galactic society were nonmilitary. That was helpful. It meant Yestrellian security might have a general worry, but no specific concerns about the two of them.

  “It’s time,” Anton said. He set his glass down on a handy table, his wine hardly touched.

  Jackie decided her wine glass would make a handy prop. She took one last cracker in her free hand to nibble on as her mentor led them toward the target.

  No one raised an eyebrow as they joined the outer circle of people around the target. He was still half a dozen meters away from her. Far too distant for the illegal reader in her right hand to even sense his Yestrellian Corporation identification chip, much less prompt it to disgorge its precious contents.

  Its range of response was only a few inches from the target’s dominant hand. That prevented anyone from casually cloning it.

  When an authorized individual needed to authenticate his or her identity, they could lay their palm on a scanner and it would prompt the chip with a preprogrammed challenge.

  One couldn’t have employees sending out their classified credentials to everyone they passed while about their daily business. The challenge and response prevented that type of occurrence. Only an actual Yestrellian security system would elicit an answer from the chip.

  Luckily, their mole had provided the necessary signal for her own chip to demand his code.

  The plan was for Anton to make introductions. He’d be using their false identities, of course. It wouldn’t do for Xarbon to know who’d come calling before they had proof of his perfidy. As nauseous as it was, she’d allow the target to snuffle her hand.

  That was what Anton had meant when he’d mentioned the aliens had a custom similar to kissing hands. Gtandans used their big noses to sniff people in formal situations. Culturally, that might have something to do with their poor vision. She really didn’t know.

  At least it was hands and not crotches.

  Anton deftly made conversation with those near them as he slowly shepherded her into a closer orbit around the target. She smiled and nodded at appropriate times, using her wine glass as a shield against making some kind of mistake.

  Her companion was well versed in interacting with significantly more alien species than she was. He’d had decades of experience and his background as a spy helped him understand all the intricacies of dealing with them.

  Finally, the two of them made it to the inner circle. The two closest members of the security team scanned them discreetly. Undoubtedly, others in the cluster surrounding the target had done the same. Otherwise, they’d never have made it so close.

  Anton smiled at the target and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Xarbon. I’ve been hoping to do so for quite some time. Edgar Richards,” he added, giving the executive his false identity.

  The alien took Anton’s hand into his own and raised it to his snout as he bent slightly at the waist. Jackie thought that looked weird with a guy doing that to a guy, but there was no accounting for aliens.

  Xarbon released Anton’s hand and smiled at him. “I find it pleasurable to make your acquaintance, as well. What did yo
u say your name was? Richards?

  “Odd. I’m certain we’ve met before, but that’s not the identity I seem to recall. Yours is certainly not a scent I’d easily forget. You’re not a businessman. You’re a mercenary. Why would you lie to me?”

  Jackie saw two of the security men tense. Oh shit!

  In about two seconds, the goons were going to drag them somewhere and ask lots of inconvenient questions. She’d never have the opportunity to get the code she needed to access the Yestrellian computer systems.

  She tossed her wine in the closest guard’s face and punched Xarbon in the nose, an action virtually guaranteed to get him to grab her wrist.

  He howled in pain, but someone dragged Jackie away before he could grab her hand.

 

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