Oblivion's Peril

by M. H. Johnson

  Agda squeezed his hand one last time. “In addition to our other burdens, we will do our best to locate Faith, so your focus should only be on the task before you. You know where you must be and when, yes?”

  Val grimaced, suddenly realizing what he lacked. "I have no watch or any way to tell time. I don't really have a subtle way to get back unless I can find a gate of some sort, and I doubt I'll find one in the city. Hell, I'm totally winging it, to be honest."

  Agda chuckled softly, handing him an exotic-looking wristband with what was obviously a watch, and a black card as well. "There, grandson. A watch for the time, and credits for what you need. The card will be honored at most any establishment here in Newford City. It will take several days to balance the ledgers, should you hop cities or worlds, so it will only be accepted in credit unions for cash advances outside of Newford.” She frowned, shaking her head. “Such grand plans for a babe fresh out of the woods. I will make sure we have someone watching an hour ahead of time. Get there early, give yourself an hour’s window. It is imperative that you not be late.” The last words were laced with steel, chillingly like Hanna’s voice when she was displeased. Val immediately straightened his posture.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he quickly said.

  Agda smiled. “I see my daughter has left her stamp upon you. Stay, enjoy a relaxing dinner, Valor. Jade and I are heading out now.”

  Val nodded, heart racing as he picked up the menu she had pointed out, finally finding the courage to ask the question he had been holding back all evening. He looked up, terrifying words on the tip of his tongue, but his grandmother was already gone, slipping into the shadows as adroitly as Val ever had. What happened to my mother?

  31

  Delicious as the prawns smothered in spicy peanut sauce was, or such was the closest approximation he could come up with for the wonderful fare the young waitress had adamantly refused to charge him for, he didn't for a moment lose track of the spy fiddling with his satchel-like briefcase still, on the far side of the restaurant. Eventually, the man gave a frustrated sigh before the flash of shiny metal coins could be seen on the table, savvy enough to abruptly make his exit when all eyes were focused on other things. Just another businessman with a briefcase so like their Terran counterparts that he looked like any of a dozen other harried Jordian professionals as he quickly blended into the stream of workers and party-goers outside the restaurant, the crowds seeming, if anything, livelier as the night wore on.

  Completely unaware of the shadow blending in perfectly with his own, sentient and savvy enough to dodge the lenses of primitive security cameras Val sensed electromagnetic emanations radiating from all around the restaurant. Primitive compared to modern Terran surveillance, perhaps, but in a world where electronic surveillance was both extremely costly and exceedingly rare, it only heightened Val’s concerns that so many resources were being expended to pin the Dauda down.

  His fear for his clan’s well-being had only grown. Because he was strangely certain that no matter how well Shadowmind hid one from the minds of one’s foes, and perhaps even mitigated AoE damage, he had no doubt that a trace of his presence would be left on any recorded tapes, free of any psychic influence. And even if his skill did affect the physical world as well, and a blur was all that was recorded, it would only make the Dauda’s situation all the more precarious as Dominion agents slowly but surely deduced the movements and whereabouts of their prey.

  An abrupt darting into a nearby alley and the unexpected rev of engines immediately yanked Val from his thoughts as he flowed around the corner just in time to spot his prey darting away at blistering speed upon a hovering motorcycle streaking around the corner and roaring away before Shadow could hope to follow.

  Val cursed softly to himself before emitting a soft chuckle, more than one passerby giving an odd shudder before hurrying on their way, their eyes just sliding over Val’s form even when they were facing him for endless heartbeats as Val darted through the throng.

  Even if he had no direct sense of Val’s presence, his prey had still managed to outmaneuver him.

  Dark blue eyes peered intently at the traffic, now picking out the occasional hover-bike adroitly weaving through a constant stream of velimobiles. Val couldn’t help grinning as he hailed a cab. Despite his frustration at losing his prey, he just might have found a new toy to play with until it was time for the main event to begin.

  But there were other things to take care of first.

  “Yes sir, how may I help you, today?” said the bright-eyed girl behind the wheel as she eased her veli to a stop.

  Val smiled into beautiful eyes that sparkled like sapphires. “That depends. Is there such a thing as a mercenary exchange here in Newford?”

  A puzzled frown. “Oh, you mean the hiring center, right?”

  Val shrugged. “Could be.”

  Her face brightened to transcendent perfection with her smile. “I’ll take you right there, sir!”

  Val nodded his thanks, enjoying the view before him—the girl’s graceful curves, lush lips, and high cheekbones in beautiful profile as she pivoted around, carefully measuring the flow of traffic before easing herself between neighboring velis. Here, she was a taxi driver. On Earth, she could be on the cover of any magazine and be thought a supermodel.

  “So what got you into the taxi business?” a curious Val asked.

  The girl grinned, showing off pearl-white teeth. “My father thought it a great part-time gig to finance my schooling, and I love the feel of soaring through the night. We’re not rich, but we get by, and I love the freedom of driving my own veli!”

  Val smiled. “A good plan. What do you think you’ll be doing after you finish school?”

  The girl sighed, sneaking a quick glance at the heavens. “If I’m really lucky, exploring the galaxy as a pilot! One day. Even if it takes a century to work up the ranks, I’m willing to do what it takes to captain my own ship someday.”

  “That’s a fantastic goal. I say, go for it. We live for centuries, right? Why not savor every moment of it chasing after your dreams?”

  “Exactly!” she enthused. “Ever since I was little, all my favorite audio-tales have been about brave captains fighting off alien invaders and exploring the deepest reaches of the galaxy! Especially the Blue Shadow, but that’s everyone’s favorite. So why shouldn’t I chase my dreams? If I work real hard and master all those bloody aeronautics and engineering charts being thrown our way, then nothing will stop me from becoming a pilot as long as I’m willing to fight for it!”

  Val nodded, enjoying the girl’s enthusiasm and energy as she spoke on about her life as a student and the dreams that propelled her until eventually they slowed to a stop before a massive, well-lit building with a crowd of individuals milling about the front entrance. Individuals dressed a bit differently from the formally attired men and women who had been working in what Val assumed was the financial district earlier that day.

  “Here we are, sir,” said the girl, gliding to a perfectly smooth stop. She closed her eyes and smiled, looking as if she had just smelled the sweetest rose before gazing into his eyes with a curious intensity as he counted out the fare with the coins he had on hand, making sure to give her a nice tip as well.

  Charisma check made! Physical modifiers in effect. Pheromones imprinted! Someone must admire your physique because she sure has you beat in the beauty department!

  The girl’s smile widened with his kindness, and she handed him a card in turn.

  Val blinked. “What’s that?”

  “My hyperion link. Any time you want to, you know, get a cab, you can reach me at that signal. My name’s Avelia, by the way, and my address is right there.” A delicate fingernail pressed against her address before brushing against his palm. “I can tell you’re new around here. If you want to, you know, explore the city… I’d be happy to give you a tour. No cost,” she quickly said. “Just, well, I’m guessing you’re a graduate student like me? Anyway, here’s your stop,” she said,
suddenly self-conscious. “I hope you enjoy your time in Newford.”

  Val flashed Avelia a gentle smile. “I know I will, especially after making the acquaintance of the most beautiful taxi driver in all of Jordia. Fly safe, future pilot. Maybe you’ll be soaring through the heavens before you know it.”

  A soft, throaty chuckle. “Don’t I wish!” Her gaze turned bold, now that he had stepped out of the vehicle. “You have my signal. Use it.” She flushed as soon as the words left her lips, darting back into traffic before Val could think of a reply.

  Val then turned to what Avelia had referred to as a hiring center, noting the pair of jaded-looking guards fully decked in body armor who were giving the often scruffily dressed entrants casual once-overs. A loud argument claimed their attention as one shadow among many flowed forward with deliberate purpose. Val suddenly found himself in the midst of a lively, bustling crowd of people from all professions and walks of life, slipping from the gloom discreetly enough that no one batted an eye when the young man in their midst politely asked a woman wearing what looked to be a gaudy uniform flashing medals and ribbons where one might find mech pilots for hire.

  The woman frowned, sucking on a pipe, releasing vapors that smelled of poppy. Silver eyes twinkled, for all that her pupils were tiny pinpricks. “And what would a handsome young stallion like you be wanting with mecha, boy? Do you fancy yourself a pilot? I can think of far better uses for a fine young buck like yourself.”

  Val blinked, only then catching sight of the fine silver chains casually held in the woman’s left hand, leading to a trio of collars worn by three exquisitely handsome men wearing skin-tight silks that caressed their tightly muscled bodies.

  One of the men favored Val with an approving smile. “I like the look of this boy. Dark. Devilish. He radiates such vicious innocence. He would be perfect for the coterie, mistress.”

  The other two nodded in sync, their mistress favoring Val with a coldly sensual smile. “There you have it. My manservant Philip has spoken. How would you like a job, boy? You will find it far safer than dancing upon the board as a puppet of raving fools, and far more pleasurable as well.” Her smile grew as she swiped her cape behind her, patting the Psiblade he only now saw at her hip. “And you will find that serving in the coterie of a Highlord pays even better than dying on the field of battle as a mech pilot.”

  The icy grip of one who expected obedience caused several nearby visitors to stiffen and turn, falling to their knees.

  But an alarmed Val had quickly cloaked himself in shadows the moment he sensed the first inkling of fearsome power that had been so artfully cloaked in an addict’s haze. Or perhaps it hadn’t been artful at all. He supposed a Highlord could slip into vice as easily as anyone else. No mundane would dare to presume, and with Jordia in flux, he doubted any other Highlord would seek unnecessary conflict against neutrals, with so many threats upon the board. Still, whether artifice or weakness, he had been caught completely off guard.

  Val, promising himself he would stop playing the fool, slipped from Shadowmind only when he had left the puzzled-looking woman now sucking her pipe with feverish intensity far behind, keeping his mind in icy shadow still. In such a state he should be safe, as long as he could balance himself between light and shadow and avoid the gaze of predators who might be more alert to his gifts than the Highlord he had just left behind.

  Soon he was just one more face in the crowd, getting a feel for its makeup and character, spotting faces filled with optimism, hope, and increasingly, desperation. Val coolly noted a number of scantily clad women desperate for sponsors of one sort or another here, in this corner of the building, but what truly cut him to the quick was the trio of wide-eyed girls holding anxious fists close to their sides, silver chains caressing their necks. They radiated nothing but despair, their chains held like leashes in the hands of a cold-looking man wearing reflective shades, tight-fitting slacks, and a reinforced jacket made of reflective polymers Val thought more than capable of deflecting civilian laser fire. The man gave everyone entering this seedier corner of the job fair an icy once-over, eyes alighting upon Val who had managed to avoid most people’s regard, even with his body clearly visible to all.

  “You looking to buy?”

  The words froze Val in his tracks, a thousand thoughts flickering at once as he gazed at the beautiful girls before him. Tasting their youth, their innocence.

  Their fear.

  The man smiled, eyes hidden behind shades that would do any Terran pimp proud. “I can tell you like what you see. You a player or a piece on the board?”

  Val let his breath ease out, gaze impassive, focused only on the girls before him. They shivered and looked away. “You tell me.”

  Shades nodded. "You're a player, no two ways about it. Wildcard or daddy's boy, makes no difference to me. You got cash, and you're looking for the sweetest flesh money can buy. Tell me I'm wrong."

  Val slowly shook his head, gazing carefully at the trio of strikingly beautiful young women dressed in nothing more than silks, radiating a desperate anxiety that was almost palpable. It was clear they were new to this game, for all that their bodies were as lush and ripe as surgery could hope to make, and no doubt on them it was perfectly natural. Soft lips innocent and full, eyes wide with fear. And despair.

  A fortune in silver and gold, eyes flashing like pristine jewels, with hair ranging from white, shimmering midnight, to the color of living flame. All of it feeling as soft as down to his touch.

  Shades smiled, teeth flashing like a predator going for the kill. “You got good taste. I can see that. All three of these girls, ripe and pure. Property of Highlord Kentric.” Val could all but sense the wink through the reflective shades. “Future Overlord, no doubt. And these lush ladies? Untouched, pristine. Daughters of the fool who refused to kneel, a red now off the board, nameless filth the world has already forgotten.”

  One of the girls choked a furious sob. “My father will not be...” Words cut off by a choking scream. The crackling of current far more vicious than Earth-bound electricity tore into her for the split second needed to send her to her knees, sobbing, tears of blood leaking free.

  “I thought you learned your lessons better than that, whore!” hissed the flesh-peddler, words cutting like a knife, the trembling girl immediately freezing. Wide, terrified eyes locked helplessly to Val’s own.

  “Yes… master,” the girl sobbed.

  Shades gave a satisfied nod. "Kentric took his due, of course, but other than the mark of our future king, they are as pure as driven snow." He flashed a knowing smile. "Now, I was going to put these beauties up for auction, but I'm open to private arrangements when I see a man who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to spend a little coin to get it."

  Val quickly scanned the bustling crowd that seemed oblivious or utterly indifferent to the girls’ plight, already knowing the play he would make. He eyed the girls, smiling at what he saw, not having to hide the sudden hunger he felt, his gaze lingering upon their vulnerable, nubile forms before turning to their pimp. “Let’s say I was interested. How much? And more importantly, I thought Newford was off limits regarding the succession, being as it’s one of the major cities that would earn the wrath of the Dominion entire if our future Overlord accidentally destroyed it on his quest for the throne?”

  Shades threw back his head and laughed. “You’re a trip, boy! Don’t worry about those technicalities. Bringing the girls here might not have been entirely on the books, but it don’t matter, because this building is officially a Free Zone! Anything and everything is for sale here. Any type of employee, any contract, any pleasure, any vice. Even criminals. And once we work out the details of your contract with your future pleasure maidens, it’s as binding as steel upon their flesh! After all, they don’t have to sign it if they don’t hunger to worship you every last day of their lives. Isn’t that right, girls?”

  His voice turned to a sibilant snarl as the girls trembled and nodded, the fiery-haired girl who h
ad dared show spunk before glared, but her sisters held her close and refused to let her speak. Shades gave a satisfied nod. “See? The wenches already know their place. You won’t find any other girls this fine, this desperate, anywhere in Newford, let alone this place. Oh no. Most reds sell their flesh to private buyers safely away from neutral territory or keep them for their own harem. But my man's as savvy a player as any, going for the throne."

  He flashed a cruel smile, offhandedly squeezing the trembling neck of the closest girl.

  It was all Val could do not to kill the pimp then and there.

  “You see, boy, in this game? Fear is everything. By registering this sale? By showcasing before the entire world sketches of these would-be princesses of Jordia being sold as common whores at port? It will put the fear of retribution greater than their own pathetic deaths in every one of those fools who would dare to challenge my master for the throne!” The last was said with a furious snarl, more than one passer-by giving the quintet a pained stare before turning around as if they hadn’t seen a thing.

  Shades quickly collected himself, recovering his cocky smile. “And for flesh this fine? So close to peak condition? Girls who had once ridden so high their feet danced on clouds before being forced to submit to their Overlord? My master wouldn’t dream of letting them go for under… let’s say… two hundred thou a piece.”

  Val didn’t dare say a word, heart pounding in his chest. It was all he could do just to nod his head, Shades’ features quickly lightening with a brilliant smile. “Well all right, my man! Here you are, contracts already signed and sealed. The girls are yours by their own consent. Body and soul! Isn’t that right, girls?”