A sourceless clap echoed through the chamber.
“Well done. Well done indeed. I have yet to pierce your veil. Very, very few can brag of that accomplishment. And you, little more than a babe in the woods, alone and untaught, have accomplished such delightful exploits already.”
Val would have been chilled by the words had he not been one with the room entire, the darkness between all points of light.
“But you must understand there are rules we abide by, those of us with the exotic gifts and frailties that mark our tribe as unique throughout the known galaxy. It is my hope that you understood the first, most crucial rule, when you entered these chambers, prudent enough to strike no one, even as you savored their delicious secrets.
“Rule one. No inquisitor not given lawful challenge is to feel the taste of our wrath, save in defense of our own. Two. No Highlord serving on the council, comprised of the handful you saw today, is to feel the taste of our wrath under any circumstances. Three. We do not accept contracts against clans or individuals claimed by members of our clan, rare as that is. It is exceedingly important that we follow these rules. To break them would risk breaking our entire clan."
The invisible speaker gave a quiet chuckle. “But of course, were I absolutely certain an intruder had entered the chambers, I would be obligated to report such to those who have our clan on richest retainer. Perhaps it is the gloom alone that I taste in the air, exquisite in its infinite complexity, forever adding to my arts as I seek to master the night in all its forms. But if there was a member of the lost who heard my words, I would counsel him to try the cuttlefish stew at Surf’s Inn. He or she might find the experience extremely… illuminating. And perhaps find the family he had been denied all too long.”
Even immersed within the depths of Shadowmind, Val felt a strange exhilaration with those words, wondering what it would be like to meet others of his kind. The other presence attempting to slide past all light then made its way to the council door, which opened and shut seemingly of its own accord.
Time passed, Phoebe’s unmistakable outline arcing up the night sky, and Val knew it was time to leave.
For all that the ancient building was near empty save for a handful of intent-looking security guards, not a single one paid attention to the odd whisper of a breeze passing by, the strange skittering of light and shadow, distracted eyes looking away of their own accord as the unmistakable creak of an opened door finally alerted security to the presence of something, but the entryway was bare.
Curses could be heard outside the entrance to that ancient building, but all the disgruntled security muttering about pranks saw when looking outside were a few incurious passers-by, no pranking youth anywhere in sight. A single tired shrug and the guard darted back within once more.
Shadow flashed a bemused smile as a young man seemed to step out of the gloom, before cloaking his features with the same relaxed expressions as worn by the couples he saw walking by, doing his best to fit in. A couple perplexed looks turned to offhanded shrugs as their owners lost all interest in just one more youth enjoying the evening, just as Val preferred.
He walked at the same intent pace as everyone else upon the smooth translucent sidewalk, velimobiles flashing by just feet away. Val felt strangely comforted by a metropolis that, for all its futuristic tech and wonder, was in many ways just one step removed from the city he used to visit quite regularly, not that long ago.
And people here didn’t even have cell phones, for all that he had seen more than a few sleek-looking watches quickly glanced at that would look right at home in any upscale fashion magazine. Their evening clothing looked different than what he had seen everyone wearing just hours ago, an exotic weave that hugged their forms, seeming to keep them perfectly comfortable despite the nip in the air. Val, well used to Illinois weather, found it quite refreshing but he knew his attire stood out just a bit. Or it should. By its very nature, his Shadowcloak shouldn’t raise too much notice, and his dark dwarven armor was made to blend into any environment. Perfect for a scout, or an assassin. But the bottom line was that he was fully kitted for battle, sans helm safely stored, and no one seemed to pay his attire any attention at all, though it was a far cry from the colorful finery the young smiling couples in this city embraced with such relish. Of course there was no way in hell he was changing out of his armor, deadly as the game had become. At least his dwarven helm he could now pull out of storage so quickly it would be on his head in a literal blink of an eye.
“Excuse me. I’m something of a tourist. I don’t suppose you can point me to a good eatery?” Val inquired of a friendly looking couple.
Brilliant eyes of silver and gold looked his way, a young couple clearly enjoying the night out together. The redhead favored Val with a warm smile. “King’s Grill would be just the place for someone who just jumped in, Alan, don’t you think?”
Her partner gave an agreeable nod, and Val suddenly recalled that he was in one of the few Jordian cities with a spaceport. Of course! Any irregularities in his choice of clothing would be explained away by his presumed tourist status. It was the perfect pretext for his exotic appearance and attire.
Val nodded, taking advantage of the misunderstanding. “Captain gave us all 48 hours leave. A friendly soul gave me a lift and after a day catching the sights I find myself famished and just a bit lost.” He chuckled ruefully.
The young man nodded sympathetically, pointing to a nearby red pole. “Hit the button to call for a transport. Shouldn’t cost you more than 5 credits to get to King’s Grill, serving the best steaks in the system, as far as I’m concerned. Just save 15 credits or so to catch a ride back to the spaceport, and you’re all set.”
“Thank you both,” Val said. “Much appreciated.”
“No problem.” The man nodded. “Enjoy your stay.”
Within minutes Val found himself in a sleek chrome veli, making sure the driver was just as bored and disinterested as any Chicago cabby, for all that his attire was crisp and professional. "Surf's Inn," Val said, gratified to see the driver didn't bat an eye at what was apparently an innocuous destination, after all, Val sitting back and enjoying a view of the brilliantly lit city. His eyes occasionally drifted to the countless vehicles passing by and he couldn’t help but wonder what life was like for the people within, or how it might change, for better or worse, should he actually manage to achieve the goal that now burned so fiercely in his heart.
30
“Surf’s Inn,” said the driver. “Four credits, please.”
Val spent a few moments figuring out the coinage Christine had given him that he had slid into his belt pouch without a second thought, finally giving the driver a 5-piece coin. Enough of a tip to be courteous, but hopefully unremarkable enough to fade back in the guy’s memory. “Here you are, keep the change.”
The vague nod implied Val had played his cards correctly, the driver heading off without a single look back as Val took a second to get a feel for his surroundings. It was some ways back from the heart of the city, the buildings more modest in size. They were of similar construction, if appearances were anything to go by, exotic alloys and what Val suspected was a highly durable polycarbon glass, resulting in sleek, majestic towers that would do any metropolis proud.
Interestingly enough, the foundational floors of the nearby buildings were quite different from the majestic structures rising high above. Bedecked in colorful, even festive ornamentation that gave Val a moment’s pause. He couldn’t help thinking of his brief visits to Thailand and Cambodia before noticing the subtle differences that made it quite clear this was a different culture from any he had ever explored before.
Still, taken as a whole, the similarities were quite remarkable. And for all that most of the residents and pedestrians in the neighborhood had the same exotic appearance as almost every other Jordian citizen Val had encountered, there were still a sprinkling of young men and women with silky dark hair and Eurasian features. No doubt what Christine might term an
exotic, and Val couldn’t help wondering if perhaps this wasn’t the first time people had jumped between their worlds.
Val turned back to the entrance of what looked to be a high-class restaurant, if the exquisite décor and carefully attired and made-up hostess was anything to go by. She flashed him a warm smile and took him to a corner table that allowed Val to keep his back to the wall and his eye on the restaurant entire. A relaxed-looking Val carefully pivoted his legs and hips as he sat, more than capable of springing up and darting away in a heartbeat if necessary.
He nodded at the waitress who came by moments later, handing him a menu covered with exotic entrees before catching her gaze.
“I already know what I’d like to try,” Val said.
The waitress smiled, one finger absently twirling her silky mane of ebony hair, peering at him curiously with beautiful almond-shaped eyes sparkling like rubies and lined with kohl. Eyes that were now slowly giving him the once-over before cherry-red lips pursed in a smile. “I like a man who knows what he wants. Some of our best items aren’t even on the menu. What can we get for you today?”
Val’s bemused smile widened. “Cuttlefish stew.”
Twirling fingers and hungry eyes froze as the waitress blanched, an odd pallor coming over her olive-tinted features. She slowly blinked and swallowed, at a momentary loss for words.
“The… the chef apologizes. He is out of cuttlefish stew. So we are offering patrons who request the house special any other entree on the menu for free.” She shivered, her eyes almost pleading. “You can get anything else on the menu that you want. For free.”
Val pinned her gaze with his own, seeing the fear deep within. “I would like the cuttlefish stew.”
A breathless pause. She jerked a nod. “Okay… I… okay. Just let me talk to the chef.”
Val gave a slow nod, taking in the room entire as the girl hurried off, near tripping in her anxious haste. He saw several dozen hardwood tables lined with clean white linen lit by candlelight, much like his own. The diners were a mix of what looked to be young couples dressed in various uniforms of shimmering fabric, perhaps corporate uniforms for this place and time, along with more casually dressed family units, the parents looking just as young as the power couples nearby. Val well remembered the expression ‘youth or death’ his Jordian friends had once said in concert, a mentality that would rather risk a hot death in the rejuvenation vats than a slow decline. And since visible decline didn’t hit these people until they were near 200 and most survive 2 to 3 rejuvenations at the very least, there was really no telling how old anyone present might be.
The only thing Val knew for sure was that Jordians were, on average, at least as smart as Terrans, most having additional nodes in their cortex allowing for mathematical linguistic synergism facilitating mastery of near any logical discipline, with skills that would blow most Earth physicists completely out of the water. And though they might look a beautiful 25 for centuries and their brains were equal in competency to any Terran of similar age, they didn't look like they were more than 16 or 18 until they hit 30. The only people you truly knew were young were those who looked closer to 18 than a Terran 25, much like his near-panicked waitress. Which explained the occasional oddly maternal glance he would receive at times. To their minds, at 22 he was still the equivalent of a teenager, and now he looked it too. His mother’s genes had come to the fore stronger than ever, after he had catalyzed his own rebirth on Jordia when first he dared the portal just a couple years ago. Years that for him had passed in just a handful of days.
Val smiled at his own distracted musings, knowing that on some level he was preparing himself for what was to come. He allowed himself to embrace the dimly lit room, to become one with the background noise, the shadows all around. Emptiness with intent and purpose, now sensing all the players moving upon the board, all but tasting the unguarded emotions of so many diners. A child crying nearby, her father’s gentle exasperation, her mother’s tender care. A girl turning away from the boy about to propose, terrified he would find out her secret, whatever it was. The dimming of light as a shadow that did not belong weaved through the diners, a creature of intent and purpose, much like Val himself.
Val smiled as dimness oozed towards his table, coalescing into a frowning woman who looked so much like Yin she could have been her sister. Sleek curves constrained by ebony mesh that Val had no doubt would ward knives as well as civilian lasers, it nevertheless hugged her form startlingly well, perhaps as intended. Seduction and death, all in one exquisite package.
Sensual lips frowned and Val took a moment to admire exquisite cheekbones and eyes that shimmered like black pearls, the darkest of any he had ever seen, and in their own way as brilliant as any Jordian gaze.
Shadow smiled as a butterfly’s touch graced the woman’s shoulder. She spun around, blade in hand, with chilling speed.
Val gave a satisfied nod, already seated, allowing himself to flow into being even as his mind still tasted the power and potency of the shadows all around. “So. I hear the cuttlefish stew is the house specialty.”
The momentarily flustered woman spun around once more, favoring him with a single tight smile before flowing into the seat across from him, honoring him with the tiniest dip of her head.
“Few indeed can pierce my veil, or move unimpeded past my own gaze. Well done, child. Yours is a feat few of our clan can emulate, let alone one of the lost.”
Val raised his brow. “One of the lost?”
The woman slowly nodded. “A child of our tribe who was never claimed.” She sighed. “It happens, sometimes. A sire’s impulsive night of passion, a marriage that did not quite work out. A child blossoms from that union, or perhaps it skips a generation, such that new mothers know not what to make of their oddly clever child. So good at getting into trouble, and like as not, getting out of it as well.” She flashed a gentle, almost maternal smile. “Was it difficult for you, growing up?”
“No more than any other child, I suppose.” He shook his head ruefully. “Despite the pain I once felt, I had it far better than most, for all that it was bittersweet in the end.”
Her nod was sympathetic, captivating eyes searching for his own. He focused on those exquisite burgundy lips and pearl white teeth. Admiring the beauty before him, but allowing her no purchase upon his soul.
“I think that’s true for many of us. Few realize how good they had it, how blessed they have been, for all that death and horror shadows our footsteps as well as triumph and glory.” She flashed a gentle smile. “My name’s Jade, by the way.”
“Call me Val.”
She tilted her head curiously. “Where are you from, Val?”
Val flashed a cold smile, his mind one with the cool night wind he sensed whipping through the city even now. “Earth.”
The beauty before him suddenly blanched. “Who are you?”
Val dipped his head. “Someone who admires your beauty and respects the work you do.”
Jade swallowed, eyes hardening, flashing a tight-lipped smile. "And what is it you think I do?"
“Measure the hearts and minds of those who seek counsel with your clan. Charm lost boys looking for a home and perhaps a hopeful crush to blossom into something sweeter. No doubt girls receive a different welcome. Either a soft, motherly-looking figure, or a man who radiates both protective strength and fatherly charm is there for lost girls with Dauda blood in their veins.”
Val’s acerbic smile grew as Jade’s eyes widened. “And perhaps, most importantly, you serve as distraction while another gets in position to strike down any perceived threat to your clan.”
A stunned-looking Jade could give no response, for there was no one to address, just a dim, shadowy booth angled such that no seating was directly behind it, only faux brick wall.
Another woman frowned, sitting at the table next to Jade's. Every bit as beautiful as the girl sent to distract, though her features belonged to that of a Scandinavian princess with brilliant ice-blue eyes, flaw
less features, and locks of golden hair twisted into an elegant bun. Somewhat taller and more muscular than Jade, Val felt the strangest chill when he gazed upon her. Something about her features struck a chord within him, his thoughts going to those few visceral memories he still had of his mother.
Insight gained! Some things might be coincidence, but blood is thicker than genetic shifts and water both!
Emptiness blazing with awe and purpose gazed once more at Jade, spotting not just her similarities to the newly enhanced Yin, but sensing their origins as well. Somehow, Val was certain Christine’s genetic enhancements was due more to a few choice subjects whose genes she did her utmost to understand and manipulate than the sum total of a population’s genetic traits. Jade did look a bit like Yin, but even more so, she reminded him of his mother, for all that her features were Eurasian, not pure Chinese. But a certain tilt to the chin, the way she had flashed her smile. Unmistakable.
As were the hand signs flashed between Jade and the woman Val now sat across.
Who suddenly flinched, slowly turning her head to face Val completely, realizing she wasn’t alone.
Her eyes widened imperceptibly as she caught sight of the unexpected guest at her table, nodding her head, unable to hide her bemused smile. “My compliments. Rarely do we find one of the lost to be so talented as you obviously are. I’m afraid you have left poor Jade just a tad flustered.”
Her gentle, bemused smile turned to something harder. “Now how about you tell us who you really are, and why you choose to seek out your roots at this time?”
Heart racing, Val locked gazes with the beautiful woman before him, echoes of a conversation Val had long forgotten now racing through his mind. “Is your name Agda?”
The woman blinked, eyes widening. “How do you know that name?”
Oblivion's Peril Page 39
