by Rhonda Mason
Something they might need soon enough.
Rigger, Trinan and Vid, huddled over the table in the war room, gaped at her entrance for a moment. Then Vid grabbed her in a bear hug and Trinan slapped her on the back.
Rigger grinned. “Knew they couldn’t catch you. Where’d you spend the night?”
“Don’t ask.” She looked at the four of them. “Man, am I glad to see you.” She glanced past them to the table. Looked like they had been studying schematics of some kind. Hopefully a layout of IDC HQ in order to break Malkor out. Her stomach growled, demanding attention. “Glad you made it out. Now—where’s the food synthesizer? I’m starving.”
The five of them packed into the kitchen, queuing the synthesizer and grabbing seats at the round table. When they were settled, Kayla, Vid and Trinan with food, Hekkar and Rigger with coffee, Kayla asked the obvious question. “Where are Aronse and Gio?”
That brought the happiness of the reunion crashing to the ground. Smiles faded, jokes quieted, and everyone waited for someone else to speak first.
Finally, Hekkar cleared his throat. “They made deals with Vega.”
“You’re shitting me.” How could anyone make a deal with Vega? “What the frutt happened yesterday? I went in, planning to support Parrel in revealing the IDC conspiracy, next thing I know Malkor’s public enemy number one, you’re all rogue operatives that need to be arrested, and I’m the foreign power that initiated it all.”
“Vega flipped everything on us,” Vid said. “Got the jump.”
Trinan nodded. “Us, you, Malkor, Carsov, Bredard, Janeen—all co-conspirators. Not to mention dozens of good agents, agents I’d stake my reputation on.”
“Some dirty ones, too, though,” Rigger added. “She even named a few senior commanders, all of whom have been in on her illegal dealings.”
“Mixing truth with lies to make it more believable,” Hekkar said. “I bet the dirty ones were challenging her authority, or at least they were liabilities. Looked like she was cleaning house.”
“And positioning herself as the hero at the same time,” Rigger said with disgust.
“Where the frutt was Parrel during all of this?” Kayla asked. That was the key question, as far as she was concerned. Malkor had been counting on him to be the spine of the movement to reform the IDC.
“Haven’t heard anything.” Hekkar clearly had some suspicions. “Aronse and Gio plan to testify against Malkor, and confirm Vega’s ‘evidence.’”
Vid threw his napkin down with a violent swear.
Hekkar shot him a look. “It’s understandable. Aronse has family here. Two girls and a husband she adores. Not to mention she’s still looking after her dad. You know she’s supporting them all. No way she could afford to go rogue and leave her family behind.”
Vid continued to grumble. Trinan, sitting beside him, shouldered him good-naturedly. “Knock it off.”
“And Gio?” Kayla asked. She’d never really cared for the man. Too cold and slippery for her, even if he was a brilliant linguist and an essential part of the octet, according to Malkor.
“Vega has him by the balls,” Rigger said. “Gambling debts. The kind that get you killed when you can’t pay. Or worse.”
“I didn’t know,” Hekkar said, and she could tell from his tone that he blamed himself for not knowing. “An IDC agent salary can’t support that kind of addiction, not at the level he was at.”
“Hey, none of us knew,” Rigger said.
When Hekkar answered, “We should have,” no one argued.
Guilty silence enveloped the room. The weight of friends failed and bonds broken dragged them down. Kayla’s heart ached for Malkor. Even if he understood, rationally, why Aronse and Gio made the choices they did, the defection was still going to cut through him.
“So Malkor’s supposedly in charge of the Trebulan-TNV situation?” Kayla asked. Hekkar nodded. “And Bredard and Carsov are his ‘co-conspirators’ on that?” Another nod.
“And Vega asserts he killed Janeen to keep her quiet about the conspiracy when she threatened to expose him,” Vid said. “Really, the list of crimes Vega is pinning on him—her crimes—is a kilometer long.”
Shit.
“Bottom line,” Hekkar said, “Malkor’s the fall guy, and us along with him.”
Trinan smiled. “Wouldn’t have it any other way. If the boss is going down, I’m right there beside him.”
Quiet agreement circled the table.
The situation sucked. Nothing new, really. Kayla’s life had been one big pile of suck since the coup. Rescuing her family from Dolan, meeting Malkor and getting to know the octet were the three shining moments in five long years of struggle.
“At this precise moment,” Kayla said, “I have only two objectives: rescue Malkor and get the frutt off this planet.” Rescuing her brothers was a very close third, but that required completing the first two. She wasn’t leaving without Malkor, not now.
“I’m on board,” Trinan said.
Vid nodded. “Same.”
“Hekkar? Rigger?”
“You know I’m in,” Hekkar said.
“This is what we do, right?” Rigger said. “Thwart the bad guys, save the day, and then haul ass outta there. Let’s do this.”
“Okay,” Kayla said, eager to get to details. “Busting Malkor out of the IDC cell block. How challenging is that going to be?”
“Damn near impossible,” Hekkar said, “and that’s the easier of the two pieces of our plan. Getting an appropriate ship?” He shook his head. “None of us could have afforded one before, and now that all of our ‘legal’ accounts have been frozen, it’s a no-go.”
“Malkor might have had the clout to get one requisitioned through IDC,” Vid said. “You know, if he wasn’t an intergalactic traitor.”
And as far as Kayla was concerned, Parrel was out of the equation. Too many unanswered questions there.
Kayla looked into her coffee cup. Empty, much like their store of allies was. “We’re left only one option—Ardin and Isonde. They can get a ship for us, easily.” They’d better. They owed her, and Malkor, at least that much.
“Um, you need to see this,” Vid said. “It was released this morning.” He turned on the vidscreen and scrolled to a story headlined: Empress-Apparent Breaks Silence Over Accused Enemies of the State, Senior Agent Rua and the Wyrd Princess Kayla Reinumon.
Vid raised the volume and hit play.
“Moments ago, Empress-Apparent Isonde Veriley gave a speech denouncing her long-time friend, IDC Senior Agent Malkor Rua, and the Wyrd princess, calling them both traitors to the empire. She expressed her shock and disbelief over their actions, claiming that she had no notion that Senior Agent Rua had been working covertly within the IDC for years. She also noted that she had believed the Wyrd princess’s motives to be genuine, and expressed sorrow over her duplicity.
“The Empress-Apparent went on to call their attempted TNV attack at her first wedding ‘criminal’ and ‘unforgivable.’ Her final quote of the interview was: ‘This is a betrayal from which I may never recover, and I stand with Senior Commander Vega’s intent to prosecute them as traitors to our empire.’”
The vidscreen showed a grimly determined Isonde, the perfect picture of an innocent woman who had been misled by criminals. The image was replaced with the male reporter.
“It should be noted that Emperor-Apparent Ardin did not accompany his new wife to the interview or make any statement to echo his support of her claims. The Empress-Apparent made no mention of him during the interview.”
The coffee cup fell from Kayla’s numb hand and Vid turned the news feed off. She blinked, uncertain that she’d seen and heard what she thought she’d seen and heard. “It can’t be true,” she whispered. “She wouldn’t have done that to him.”
Kayla pushed to her feet with enough force to send her chair skidding across the kitchen. “It’s not possible. They’ve been friends since childhood. Malkor’s done everything she’s asked of him. Everyth
ing.” Her gaze darted from one face to the other. “Right?”
“I’m sorry, Kayla,” Trinan said, “it actually makes perfect sense.” He looked pained even saying that much.
“How?” she demanded. “How does throwing her best friend under the bus, instead of standing by him when he needed her most, make any sense at all?”
Trinan exchanged looks with Vid, and she realized that for all her posturing as Isonde for the last two months, every member of Malkor’s octet had a lifetime’s worth of understanding imperial politics that she lacked.
“Isonde has a long history of friendship with Malkor,” Trinan said, sounding apologetic. “It’s well-documented. Of course there’s going to be concern that he has an influence over her. Initially it was idle talk through the rumor mills.”
“Now, though,” Vid added, “Malkor’s been implicated—very believably—in an empire-wide conspiracy. He’s been arrested by the IDC. Speculation is rampant that Isonde had a part in the conspiracy. General consensus, before her statement, was that she should be investigated as well, possibly even brought into custody.”
“Malkor is a sinking ship,” Trinan said, “dragging Isonde down into the muck, undermining all of her political power.”
Kayla nodded, the pieces coming together. “Not to mention me,” she said. Isonde had vouched for her presence in the empire, claimed that Kayla was here on a mission of peace, and had brought Kayla under her official protection. “Now that I’m accused of aiding Malkor in his so-called TNV terrorist activities and instigating a conspiracy, I’m an even greater political liability than Malkor is.”
Isonde had to distance herself.
Hekkar had his hands clenched on the table, fury clearly riding him hard. “Isonde is one cold-hearted bitch. Always has been. In order to keep her political power, to remain above question, she had to strike first.” Hekkar pounded the table with a fist. “By denouncing you she’s separating herself from any actions you take, putting herself above question and making herself look even better in the process by being the victim of a vicious betrayal.”
Something in Kayla’s chest fractured with a cracking snap that echoed in her ears.
Her last thread of obligation to Isonde, having grown more and more brittle over the last few weeks, finally snapped, freeing her.
I’m trying to save your people, Isonde had said.
Bullshit. Every word out of her mouth—bullshit.
The shock that had numbed Kayla melted away, sublimed in the heat of her gathering fury. Rage, so cold it burned, so hot it melted, roared through her, replacing, for the moment, the ache of betrayal.
She had trusted Isonde.
Trusted.
Surrounded by an empire’s worth of enemies, Kayla had believed Isonde was one of the few she could rely on. Malkor should have been able to depend upon Isonde and Ardin to protest his innocence, demand the Council of Seven carry out a full investigation.
Hekkar had it right, Isonde was a cold-hearted bitch.
And I’m going to bring her down.
Kayla’s searing thoughts turned to Ardin. Ardin, probably Isonde’s greatest victim of all. Ardin, who hadn’t been at her interview or publicly made any similar statements about Malkor being guilty of Vega’s crimes.
Ardin probably had no idea what Isonde was about to do.
Just like Isonde had sprung the surprise of Kayla’s identity-reveal on everyone, before Kayla could object, Isonde had probably held this interview without giving Ardin any notice of her intentions.
It was the only hope they had at this point.
“I’m going to see Ardin,” Kayla said, surprising the octet.
Vid frowned. “I don’t think that’s wise, not after Isonde’s stunt.”
“He’s been Malkor’s friend as long as Isonde has,” Kayla argued. “Just because Isonde betrayed him to save her own political career doesn’t mean Ardin would do the same.”
“That’s a big if,” Trinan said.
“I have to risk it. He’s the only one left I can go to about getting us a ship.”
Trinan rubbed the back of his neck, looking doubtful. “That’s if we can even free Malkor.”
Kayla leaned over the table, palms flat on the organoplastic. “You will. I refuse to accept any other outcome.” Simple as that. She was not leaving here without Malkor, no matter the consequences.
Rigger quirked a grin. “I’ve always liked your style, Kayla. You can be in my octet any day.”
Vid chuckled. “Then there’d be six of us: you, Kayla, the boss, Hekkar, me and Trinan.”
“No way I’m joining a group called the sextet.” Kayla managed a smile, looking around the table. These were people she could trust. Malkor’s people. Her people, now. “Keep it a six-person ‘octet’ and I’m in.”
“Deal,” Rigger said. “Now, about getting in to see Ardin…”
“Can you get me a comm line to him directly, without it routing through the palace comm system?”
Rigger made a sound of disgust. “I can’t believe you asked me that.” She was already headed to the office. “Let’s do this. The sooner the boss is out of custody, the better.”
28
Setting a meeting with Ardin went almost too smoothly—or maybe that’s just how it felt when you worked with the best IDC agents in the galaxy.
Ardin instantly agreed to see her. The octet fabricated a false identity for Kayla as an interior decorator Ardin was considering hiring, now that he was married and Isonde wanted to make changes to their suite. She was slotted in as his fifteen hundred appointment.
Rigger got busy inserting her fake credentials into the imperial citizens identification database; meanwhile Hekkar calibrated contact lenses to match the ocular scan specs Rigger provided, and Trinan sculpted the palm print negative for the polymer printer. Vid had a little too much fun altering her features in the complink’s facial recognition program, and sent the details to a low-end hologram biostrip.
Kayla slapped the hologram on and looked in the mirror. “Thanks for the underbite, Vid.”
He laughed. “All in the name of disguise.”
The contacts would take care of her eye color, and Vid had given her heavy lids, a unibrow and a protruding jaw.
“I owe you one,” she threatened with a smile. A slightly yellowed smile. Kayla popped the contacts in—a lovely muddy brown that suited her newly dyed hair—and turned for a second opinion.
“Perfect,” Trinan said. He opened the printer case and pulled out the sheet of transluca with the biofilm of the palm print on it. “Remember, you’ve got about twenty minutes from when you apply this biofilm to your skin until it dissolves, so don’t put it on until you arrive.” He put a second layer of transluca over the print and slid it into an envelope.
“And the hologram’s low-tech,” Hekkar said. “It only disguises your face, nothing else.”
“Kris?” Vid held out a hand.
Kayla groaned. Worst part of the whole thing—having to leave her weapons behind. She pulled them from her bag and handed them over, then slid the envelope with the palm print into her bag. “If I come back and those are damaged in any way…”
“I’ll guard them with my life.”
Kayla punched Vid on the shoulder. “You better.”
“Ready?” Hekkar asked. He ordered a cab to meet her in a nearby section of Shimville, far enough away to keep their location secret.
Kayla looked herself over once more and Rigger pushed her to the door. “We do this shit all the time. Don’t worry, the fake ID will pass.”
Kayla’s short smile faded quickly. She looked at the octet members, their faces full of their typical confidence and “ready for a fight” attitudes, and realized how much she’d come to depend on them.
“If I don’t come back tonight…” She couldn’t get more than that out.
Hekkar nodded. “Same here,” he said quietly.
They all gave her a pat on the back and sent her out the door.
&
nbsp; * * *
The long ride across town went by in a blur of traffic and noise. Their progress evident as the roads gradually became cleaner, the pedestrians grew more fashionable, and the buildings began to soar. The architecture in the Royal Sector wasn’t as inspired as in Ordoch’s grand cities, but it was still the best Falanar had to offer, with clean building façades, statuary and the occasional tower.
When the palace came into view and the driver was occupied trying to find a parking spot, Kayla applied the preprinted biofilm to her left hand. The cab set down gently and Kayla hit the sidewalk at a brisk pace. She needed to make it through security and fast.
For the first time in—shit, weeks?—luck favored her, and she breezed through security. An aide led her through the halls and wings and floors until they reached Ardin’s apartments and a pair of stoic guards. The aide checked her datapad. “Ms. Leedenma is here for the prince’s fifteen hundred appointment. She’s all checked in.”
A nod from a guard, a brisk entrance, a departure by the aide, and there she was, standing face to face with two people—one her only hope, one her newest enemy.
Neither Ardin nor Isonde smiled. Each wore a different air of silence. Ardin looked grim. Isonde, in contrast, was caught by surprise by Kayla’s entrance. She had a moment of bewilderment she tried to hide.
Good. Ardin hadn’t told Isonde beforehand, hadn’t given her a chance to scheme.
Isonde assumed a superior, polite air. “I don’t believe we’ve met, Ms. Leedenma, is it?”
Kayla ignored her and spoke to Ardin. “Is there somewhere we can speak in absolute privacy?”
“Let’s go to my office.” He gestured for her to follow, and Kayla realized that his frown wasn’t directed at her. She let out a tight breath. Even better.
