This whole discussion, together with the song, was too much.
“Thanks. I need to sleep now. Tomorrow will be hard enough without adding exhaustion to it.”
“I’ll walk you,” Shiro said, rising as his gaze skirted around the room. He gripped his lion-head cane in one hand. Oh good, at least one of them was on the lookout for threats that might be real, rather than the ghosts currently accosting Holly’s good sense.
They made it to Holly’s cabin without incident. Holly fumbled with the key, her fingers clumsy after the imperial ale, and then finally managed to get it open. Shiro followed her into her cabin.
Just inside the door she turned to tell him goodnight, not expecting him to be right behind her, inside the room already. His chest was harder than she expected and bumped her nose against it. She’d never noticed he was so tall.
She held her nose, “Ow, god,” she said.
He laughed softly. “Sorry.”
She backed away from him and turned to head to the window to put some distance between them. Was it just her or was she running from him? And still he came closer. Her heart raced. That strange longing in her gut was coiling up, twisting itself into knots, tighter and tighter.
It was the alcohol. It was the . . .
“I just wasn’t expecting you to be right behind me,” she said, her voice nasally from how her hand covered it.
“Yes, that much is obvious.” He was still right behind her. She turned again to move away from him, but the window was right behind her.
Why was she running from him? She wasn’t imagining it. He was like a hunter.
Through the murky filter of alcohol, fatigue, and a very long time devoid of any kind of romantic touch, Holly knew what she had to do. She stopped running and turned, throwing her shoulders back. He stopped a few inches from her. He held his cane in front of him, both hands tightly wrapped around it, and there was an intriguing gleam in his eye.
“Thanks. You can leave now. By the way, very chivalrous of you. I’m good now.”
He came up short, his head lifting. “Ah yes, of course. Just wanted to make sure you got to your cabin safely.”
“Definitely. What a gentleman.”
He laughed, nodded, looking at the floor as he turned, opened the door, and went out.
Holly hurried to the door and locked it. She relaxed back against it and exhaled. God, what a mess.
THIRTY-THREE
DARIUS had narrowed down the tracking signals he was picking up from Paradise that were linked to private users and not the government or corporations. Holly wondered how he knew such a detail. His cheeky response was vague mutterings about purchase receipts and serial numbers that coordinated with tracking codes.
“Just ‘trade secrets’ would’ve worked,” Holly said.
“On the docks, which are huge, you’ll want to track down the signals I’m getting. I suspect they’re all buried within shipping containers, but I can’t tell that from the signals.”
The space elevator landed and their restraints were released. Their baggage remained on the Cold Blossom. They had decided that no matter what, they would be forced to leave Paradise with or without the Skelty Key. Without it, they would need to work out another plan for breaking into the spire-top suite to get the amulet. With that in mind, they’d booked passage back to Kota on the same ship before they left the space elevator dock to look for the Skelty Key. The ship would leave the space-port in four hours, heading to Kota with a shipment of goods as well as a few passengers.
They exited the capsule and stepped out onto a crowded, noisy dock that had freight-sized pods for shipping stuff off-moon. It was an entirely different atmosphere from both of the other docks that Holly had been to in the past few days. There was a buzzing vibrance that permeated the atmosphere.
Shirtless, tattooed and body-pierced workers meandered through the crowd, their skin darkened and leathery from being out in the sun, near the water. Many of the women wandered around shirtless as well, working at the same sort of jobs, boarding shipping containers that were taller than Centau even—not that there were any around—to remove boxes or load them, emerging empty-handed after stacking boxes inside. Some container interiors were lit and chilled to keep perishables cold for the time they were on-moon. The dock-workers smoked, the tendrils of smoke from their cigarettes whipped away by the salty ocean breeze.
“Lets get out of this chaos and regroup further away from this disembarking zone,” Holly called above the noise.
“Lead the way,” Shiro said.
Odeon kept close behind Holly. He’d been strangely quiet since they left Itzcap. She wanted to talk to him about everything that had happened at the resort. Aboard the ship, however, he’d stayed in his cabin. They were all tired. Forcing herself into his space to get a read on him at the time didn’t seem the right way to get a Druiviin to talk.
Holly pushed through the crowd, her body getting jostled and bumped by people going toward the space elevator pods. There were tents set up around the walkway where vendors sold everything from food to toys and trinkets. The odors of cooking wafted and mingled with the smells of sweat and decay.
Finally they reached a relatively empty spot off to the side, past the tents of the bazaar.
“Let’s look at the markers Darius pushed to our phones. Track down the nearest, head to the next, knock them out one by one,” Holly said, pulling her communicator out of the zippered pocket on the jacket she wore over her blazer.
Shiro and Odeon also pulled out their phones. There were three beeping green dots near them that signified the items that were potentially the Skelty Key.
“We could split up and do this quicker,” Shiro offered, looking at his communicator and then holding it up to orient himself.
Holly frowned. They could. That would be quicker. Of course, it would only be quicker if nothing unexpected happened. Splitting up could also mean that one of them could get hurt or attacked or robbed at gun point. She still felt the looming specter of the Shadow Coalition, and that was the threat she knew of. How many was she unaware of?
“That would be quicker. But I want to say no. My instincts are saying that’s a bad idea.”
“Don’t split up,” Darius said on the comm. “Holly, you’re right. We don’t know how sketchy this is—who took the key? Why is it on Paradise right now, possibly in a shipping container? Someone could have it and that someone might be willing to kill to keep it.”
“All right chaps, you convinced me. No splitting up.”
“Let’s head to the nearest one first.”
Holly held up her communicator, orienting herself like she would with a compass, and they proceeded, crossing through the stream of people to get to the other side, where they entered an alleyway made by shipping containers stacked on top of each other. Orange, green, blue, with Constie and human words emblazoned on their sides. Shipping and distribution like this was one of the markets that humans and Consties did, because Druiviin and Centau weren’t interested in the low rungs of commerce. It was beneath them. And, seeing the shape of the docks and the people who worked them, that made sense to Holly. It was laborious and involved the sorts of ventures that could end up sketchy.
They moved through the maze of containers, turning at well marked aisles and cutting through the rows that ran perpendicular to the parallel lengths of containers. Various containers were open as though in the process of being loaded or unloaded. Occasionally they passed someone on a forklift, moving stacks of boxes toward open containers. Finally they reached one of their marked spots. The container was of course closed and locked with a padlock. Odeon reached into his pocket and pulled the black velvet pouch out. His lock-picking tools were folded up inside and he pulled two of them out and went to work on the lock, his long slender fingers working with the tools like a well-versed lover romancing a partner. Holly and Shiro watched, trying to behave casually like they were simply watching their friend use a key on the lock. The lock clicked and snapped
open. Shiro helped pull the door open. A light inside flipped on automatically, illuminating a few boxes. The three of them went inside and opened the boxes, rummaging through. They found the object that was pinging Darius’s tracking devices. It was a crate of aether guns. Not surprising, but not what they wanted.
They heard voices outside, closed the box up and rushed out—slowing to a nonchalant walk as they got out of the container. Whoever it was, they hadn’t reached their row of containers, so they quickly shut it back up and moved on, heading through an aisle that was empty.
“Two left,” Holly whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” Shiro asked.
“Something about this place. I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about it.”
“It’s just the topless dockworkers. And their tattoos,” Shiro said, with a slight laugh.
“I don’t think that’s it, but let’s keep going,” she answered, feeling in her waistband for the gun. It was hidden by her jacket and blazer. As they walked she kept her hand on the grip, her nervous energy doubling the more they wove through the maze. Maybe that was what it was—the place was a maze. She could run forever and not know where she was. The cranes that lifted the containers to load onto the freight space elevator were the only landmarks she could see above them, but there were so many and she hadn’t paid attention to their locations when she walked into the labyrinth in the first place.
Odeon was leading them now using his communicator. They both knew about Holly’s gun—it hadn’t slipped their notice that she was hanging onto it as she moved sideways up the aisle, so that she could keep glancing over her shoulder. And Shiro had turned his cane into more of a sword, with the way he held it angled out in front of him.
“Almost there,” Odeon said, turning and cutting across the rows, then angling them back down another aisle. They came to a middle row with the ends that opened facing into the aisle. The opening of these containers would be concealed from general traffic. “This is it. Inside this one.”
He put his communicator in his pocket and pulled his tools back out and went to work on the container. Holly and Shiro stood watch, each of them guarding opposite sides of the container, their eyes focused in either direction so that no one surprised them.
Holly didn’t see inside the container when Odeon got through the lock and pulled the door open. She heard a sound from him first, like the inarticulate noise of an surprised animal. Startled, she turned to look inside the container. A light glowed down on a cluster of huddled figures. Their eyes were wide and wary, their hair matted, their clothing dirty and rumpled. A soiled, unclean smell wafted out toward the opening where Holly, Shiro, and Odeon stood, shocked into silence.
One of the children whimpered. A confused jumble of emotions rumbled through Holly, a fault-line ripping apart.
“What the fuck,” she whispered so that her companions alone could hear it.
THIRTY-FOUR
SHE took a step inside the container, and the children flinched away, back into the rear of the container.
“It’s OK,” Holly said, reaching a hand out to calm them. She forced herself to smile, to put an open, inviting expression on her face so as not to scare them. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.”
They seemed to range in ages from eight to early teens. Their eyes were wide, their expressions frightened. Holly felt an instinctive desire to protect them. She was taken back mentally to her time as a teacher, when she could see that some of her students weren’t being cared for the way they needed and deserved. It had been clear bad shit was happening at home, but there was nothing she could do except try to be a good teacher, because she had no evidence of the wrongs in their lives other than their eyes and their inability to focus and learn.
“Holly,” Shiro said from behind her. “We need to find the tracker.”
“OK, kids, my name is Holly. I’m a school teacher. A friend. And this man here, he’s also a friend. We just need to know—have any of you seen something inside here like a communicator or a blinking object.”
“What the hell is going on? Did I hear you say kids? Drake?” Darius said suddenly in her ear.
Holly flinched. The kids saw it and flinched too, their gazes darting nervously around. She couldn’t answer Darius at the moment, but she caught the sound of Odeon softly explaining to Darius.
“Shit,” Darius cursed in her ear again. “I’ve seen bits and pieces of this, but they were all guesses. I can’t believe it. You guys have to save those kids.”
Holly was conflicted. This could sidetrack their work. She agreed with Darius, but they had so little time.
None of the children answered her. She looked into the face of one of the older ones, “Do you know what I’m talking about?”
He was a human boy, with curly dark hair that fell down around his shoulders. His eyelashes were long. There was fear in his eyes, but defiance as well. He mutely pointed to a corner of the container where a red light blinked on a small silver circular object. That was the signal. It was for whoever was tracking the container, whoever was responsible for these children.
Whoever they were. She would make them pay. She swore that to herself right then.
“The key isn’t here. Odeon, go find the last container. It has to be there, bring it back with you. Shiro, stay with me. We have to get these kids into safe hands.” Holly walked back to the opening of the container as she spoke—she hated to not comfort the kids. Her instincts were screaming—hug them! Gather them in your arms. Make sure they’re not harmed. Carry them away. But she suppressed those feelings. It was the one time her instincts might not be wise. The kids had were clearly hurt, or traumatized. By adults. She was an adult. She had to prove to them that she would protect them. That she was not like whoever was doing this to them.
Shiro approached her as she reached the opening of the container.
“What do you think, Holly? What can we do? This is a liability. It will interfere with our mission. But—I agree. There’s no way I’d feel right about leaving these children to whatever god-awful monsters have done this. Living, breathing people. Stuffed into a container, smuggled around the 6-moons like unthinking objects.”
She nodded, rage boiling through her heart as he spoke. “I don’t know, but I see no way around it. I’m not a monster. I can’t leave them here. They’re kids. They’re helpless, voiceless, they need someone to interfere with whatever the fuck is happening here.”
Shiro studied her. “And that someone—“
“Is me. And you. Odeon. I know it’s not what you signed up for, so I’d understand—”
Voices. Approaching voices.
“Shit,” Holly said, backing against the inside opening of the container. She drew her gun. Shiro took the other side and pulled the lion head out of the black shaft of the cane in a high-pitched noise like a blade against a whetstone. It reflected, metallic, in the light of the container. It was a sword. She met his gaze and nodded. He winked at her. The voices drew close. Holly glanced back into the depths of the container and signaled the children to back further in, to take cover.
“What the,” one of the nearing voices said—a deep, rough male voice—and then, “Get the others. Someone’s opened the container.”
When Holly heard that, her will deflated a little. How many others were they talking about?
“Darius,” she whispered. “You there?”
“Yeah, of course, Drake,” he said. “What you guys doing? This is fucked up.”
She continued in a soft voice. “Someone is coming here. For the children. We can hear them. They have back up, not sure how many. It’s not good, Darius. Do you know anyone in our location who you would trust? Police? The local government?”
“Someone is there for the kids? So you guys are in danger now?”
“Yes,” she said, her heart racing, the sweat starting to drip down her back and sides. She closed her eyes, trying to plan her move. She opened them. Shiro was staring at her, his cane sw
ord held up close to his face like a fencer. He gave her a short nod.
“I’ll send the dock police to your location, for backup. And I’ll notify the local government that they’ve got someone running a human trafficking ring out of their dock. That’ll make them happy.”
“Blackmail?” she asked quietly. The footsteps had stopped. That meant they were near and had gone quiet. Her pulse thundered. “Do it.”
“Keep them at bay. The police will be there soon. Just don’t let anything happen to the kids. And Drake, I’m right about you. You guys have got this.”
Holly looked back at the children. They’d moved their huddle deeper into the container. But there was nothing for them to hide behind. The older one who’d pointed out the tracker was still standing, defiant, uncaring. It was the response of a kid who’d learned to not give a shit about anything—that was the way to be, when nothing ever went your way. You either got tough or crumbled. It was how Holly felt after she’d lost her trial and been sentenced—the system failed her. Her life had been less important than the brutal, violent man she’d been married to. No one was going to help her, so she just had to stand and put her back into it. Carry it all on her own goddamn shoulders.
Well, I’m someone, she thought at the kid.
A face peeked around the door on Shiro’s side. Holly saw it and aimed her gun. The face—a bald man with pale eyebrows—disappeared when he saw her.
Would they run? If they tried to run she’d go after them, she knew that much.
She could hear them talking rapidly in hissing whispers. Shiro’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head toward the voices. Good, Holly thought, whatever they were planning, she needed to know it.
“You have something of ours,” a coarse voice said from behind the doors on Shiro’s side.
“Finders keepers,” Holly shot back.
“That’s not the way it works, lady,” the voice said.
Eye of the Colossus Page 22
