by C H Gideon
“That was easy,” she said. “Too easy, maybe?”
She lifted off and turned the Pod around, exiting the docking structure the same way they’d entered and slipping out into space. Scanners warned of weapon systems following their progress, and the automated voice sang out once again, providing them with specific instructions to follow to reach the planet safely.
“If they’re working with Jora’nal, I couldn’t tell,” Maddox stated. “Dox Gorn has one hell of a poker face.”
“I don’t think he’s in cahoots with Jora’nal or the cult,” Reynolds argued. “Nothing in their posture gave me any indication that they were treating us differently than they do anyone else they welcome to the planet. It’s all a show of force, a deterrent.”
Reynolds had taken an instant to scan his memories of the security videos Geroux had hacked into to compare the soldiers’ manner and attitude with the other visitors to the planet.
He’d seen nothing to make him think their visit stood out in any way from the host of other arrivals. From the wry grin to the posturing, Dox Gorn had approached everyone the same way on those videos. So much so, in fact, that Reynolds might have questioned whether the commander was an android if Reynolds hadn’t been able to detect obvious biometric signs of life.
That’s just who he is, apparently, Reynolds thought. Not much of a personality, that one.
As the Pod drifted down toward the planet, Jiya brought the image of it up on the screen. The city, the system noting it as Aspar’s Hold, was a sprawling metropolis.
The only major city on the entire planet, it took up more surface space than Jiya’s entire nation.
It seemed to be broken into dozens of different sections, some with towering buildings that reflected the morning’s sunlight, others areas of sparseness where spread-out compounds sat, walled-in and held at a distance from their nearest neighbors.
Much of Aspar’s Hold appeared to be an active hive of people and businesses.
As they drew closer, scanners showed a disparate gathering of alien races, from those Reynolds recognized to some he had never even heard of. The Pod’s systems scrambled to delineate and categorize the population mix.
Zoomed in, the scanners showed people everywhere. It was if some kind of festival were happening, the streets flooded with pedestrians and vehicle traffic.
“That’s going to make finding Jora’nal difficult,” Geroux said, eyes wide as she watched the screen.
“We’ll find him, don’t worry,” Reynolds assured them. He’d make sure of it, even if he had to scour the entire city from end to end.
That little bastard wasn’t getting away this time.
Jiya brought the Pod around, following the directions she was provided, and landed on a cluttered stretch of tarmac, barely enough room for the ship to settle in between its neighboring crafts.
“Tight fit,” Maddox commented.
“Tons of people here,” Geroux replied. “That’s a big reason why we couldn’t get solid readings up on the Reynolds. Well, that and the deflectors, but the population density is the biggest problem. There must be ten million people squeezed into this town. I wonder how many actually live here?”
“Probably a damn good base of operations for those looking to stay off the radar,” Reynolds admitted.
“I imagine the place is expensive,” Jiya said, reviewing the images the system had stored as they arrived.
“Worth it to have a safe haven this far from other habitable systems, and to have an army of criminals all motivated to keep this place safe and secret,” Maddox explained.
“Probably means bribing or coercing the locals won’t get us anywhere,” Jiya said. “I don’t see these people rolling over on Jora’nal for a meager payday.”
“No, it’s not likely,” Reynolds replied. “But if we can’t find Jora’nal ourselves, we can always use the local rumor network to get word to him. We spread enough money around, making it clear we’re looking for him, I suspect it will only be a matter of time until he finds us.”
“Or he runs,” Maddox countered.
Reynolds shrugged. “Either works for me.” He laughed. “Phraim-’Eh is the big fish in this scenario. I want to take out Jora’nal, too, of course, but we need him to lead us to his master or draw the prick to us. We pressure this asshole hard enough, he’ll do one or the other. Then we put our boots up Phraim-’Eh’s godly ass.”
The crew gathered their equipment, keeping it hidden in inconspicuous baggage, and exited the Pod, leaving San Roche behind to secure it.
They stepped out onto the crowded tarmac, amazed by how many ships were squeezed into its tight space.
“Seems everyone in the galaxy is here,” Maddox remarked. “Reminds me of Dal’las Tri.”
Ka’nak chuckled. “I loved that place. There were all sorts of opportunities to get into a fight.”
“I suspect this place will be the same.” Jiya grinned. “We just have to make sure there are no neurological suggestion beams driving you two to fight and gamble.” She stared at the Melowi warrior before turning her gaze on Maddox.
The general smiled slyly and tapped the side of his head. “Fortunately, Takal coded in protection against that kind of manipulation after our last…unfortunate incident at Dal’las Tri. I couldn’t gamble if I wanted to,” he admitted.
“That same adjustment has curtailed Takal’s drinking a bunch, too,” Geroux said happily, clearly glad to have her uncle sober.
“And he’s been a right stick-in-the-mud ever since,” Ka’nak complained with a grunt. “I can’t get the old guy to do anything besides work these days. It’s annoying.”
“At least you can still fight,” Maddox offered.
“Takal would have to lobotomize me to take that instinct away.” The warrior chuckled. “I’d have zero personality if he did that.”
“Zombie-Ka’nak sounds like he’d be good shipmate,” Jiya remarked, grinning at the Melowi again.
“Maybe, but then I’d be as boring as you,” he retorted.
The crew laughed as Jiya held her hand over her heart, pretending dismay.
“You wound me,” she teased.
Reynolds ignored the crew and glanced around, looking for a Jonny-Taxi or some other sort of local transportation. He waved one down as it drew close.
The cab pulled up, its doors popping open automatically as it came to a stop. The crew loaded their equipment and clambered into the vehicle. Jiya let out a loud bark of a laugh when she saw the Jonny-Taxi android in the front seat staring at them, requesting their destination.
Reynolds glared at her. “Don’t. Say. A. Word,” he warned.
She bit back her laugh and settled into the seat alongside the rest of the crew, who similarly kept their mouths shut, much to Reynolds’ surprise.
He turned back to the android. “We need a place to stay.”
“The Arch Point offers a pleasant stay this time of year,” the android replied in its monotone voice. “It’s located centrally in Aspar’s Hold, within walking distance of food and shopping opportunities and—”
Reynolds waved it to silence, cutting the android off. “Sounds good. Take us there.”
Unoffended, the driver turned back around and started off without another word.
Once or twice as the cab made its way through the busy port, winding between ships and avoiding debarking passengers and other cabs, Reynolds glanced at the Jonny-Taxi android with disgust.
I can’t believe I let Jiya talk me into inhabiting one of those things, he thought ruefully, remembering when he’d first arrive on Lariest.
His new body was an improvement of light years beyond the crappy cab android they’d hijacked, but he’d learned in his short time disconnected from the SD Reynolds that absolutely nothing compared to his being a part of the ship. His being the ship.
That was who he was meant to be, and he’d never again separate himself. He was the SD Reynolds, and that’s all there was to it. He would always be.
&
nbsp; Minutes later, the cab emerged from the crowded port onto an equally crowded street.
Their advance was slow, the vehicle merging with the mess of traffic, both pedestrian and vehicle, which seemed to cover every square millimeter of occupiable space. It wasn’t until they eased off the main thoroughfare that they found any respite from the crowd and were able to see anything outside of the milling throng of people.
The cab sped up and made its way toward the lodging it had suggested for the crew. Reynolds agreed to the price and paid for the ride and the stay at the same time through the cab’s computer system, reserving their rooms.
Reynolds watched the city scroll past. It was every bit the diverse construct its residents were.
There wasn’t any architectural consistency anywhere in Aspar’s Hold. Each building appeared to be a reflection of its owners and the species they came from. One building would be a towering skyscraper of reflective steel and plas-glas, modern and free from any sort of decoration that might mar its sleek image, while the next was formed from some sort of living material that reminded Reynolds of tree bark.
The building rose about five stories, looking as if it had been grown rather than constructed. Windows were ringed by curling branches, giving them a rounded appearance. A reddish-brown tinge ran the length of the building, giving off a slight sheen as the sun touched its exterior.
Right next door to that was a squat shop built of brick and mortar, a throwback to styles that would have fit in nicely on Muultar.
The crew stared out the windows as the cultural variances assailed their senses, but they kept quiet, understanding it would be best not to appear as total newcomers to the city.
That would draw more attention to them than they wanted initially.
Fortunately, no one on the streets so much as glanced in the taxi’s direction, its presence so mundane as to be nearly invisible in the flowing traffic.
A short while later, the cab pulled to a halt outside the hotel it had suggested, which was more conventional than Reynolds had expected it to be.
The cab’s doors popped open, and the Jonny-android thanked them and ushered them out as a bot concierge met them on the walk.
“I’ll take your bags for you,” the bot offered.
Reynolds shook his head. “We’ll carry them.”
The bot spun around without argument. “Then follow me to your suite, please.” It started off at a casual pace, leading the crew inside the hotel and making sure they were close behind.
Reynolds caught the crew furtively glancing around them, taking in their surroundings. There was a lot to see.
Crowds roamed the walk and darted back and forth across the street between traffic. Brilliant lights littered every surface of the town, great big signs offering every possible service or supply imaginable.
Anyone who’d ever thought of any way to pry money out of a person had apparently moved to Aspar and set up shop. It was tourist heaven, albeit on the darker side of things.
The entire place gleamed and glistened with gold and lights, but its façade was cracked and warped, and Reynolds could see the grime that lurked just beneath the surface of everything.
And everyone.
It was as if the entire city was a performance put on just for them.
People glanced their way as they entered the hotel, but it was as if they hadn’t been noticed. There was so much going on that it didn’t appear as though anyone had the time or energy to note yet another group of travelers headed to their rooms.
Reynolds suspected it would be different once they emerged and entered the throng directly, setting themselves up as marks to the criminal economy that powered the hold.
Right now, though, he’d be happy if he hadn’t marched his crew into an ambush of some sort.
Jora’nal could be anywhere, and Reynolds needed to find him as soon as possible.
He wanted his pound of flesh.
Chapter Three
In the hotel room, the crew geared up and hid their armored suits under loose, flowing garments that would keep the average citizen from realizing they were so heavily-equipped.
They gathered extra weapons and ammunition, and each collected several grenades, just in case. They figured they’d need all the offense they could muster.
The plan was a simple one: go out into the town and hunt for Jora’nal or anyone connected to him and get Phraim-’Eh’s location, then take them all out before proceeding to do the same to the god.
Each of the crew had memorized the faces of the cultists who had departed the Pillar’s shuttles, and their systems were tuned to recognize any of them should they pop up anywhere.
Reynolds looked the crew over, assessing them. They appeared to be ready to rumble, eyes gleaming with excitement and determination.
After scanning the room for bugs, Reynolds confidently left their extra equipment in it and returned to the streets. The change of clothing would further throw off any scrutiny of them as they left the building, although Reynolds was sure they hadn’t been followed to the hotel.
“I’m not seeing anyone paying specific interest to us,” Maddox reported as they stepped out on the street.
“Me either,” Geroux added.
She subtly tapped at the computer on her wrist, which was hidden beneath the voluminous sleeve. The young tech had set up a surveillance web around the crew, which would warn them if anyone was attempting to listen in on their conversations by electronic means, or if anyone used a device to try and track them.
“No tails or ears,” she called, nodding her approval of the findings.
“Off to a good start,” Reynolds said, moving off and strolling down the crowded walk. The crew followed him closely, arranging themselves in a manner that hemmed Reynolds in between them.
They’d prepared for pickpockets and scammers, packing nothing that could be spirited away from under their loose clothing or tight armor. The positioning was more about making sure no one came into direct contact with Reynolds.
As crowded as the streets were, it was guaranteed they’d bump into people.
A lot of them.
There was really no way to avoid it.
And while there wouldn’t be any issue if someone ran into any of the crew, it would be obvious to anyone that Reynolds was an android should someone bump into him.
As human as he looked, he was as solid as the Pods, and that would be a curiosity that would spread through town like a raging fire.
One that would reach Jora’nal’s ears and announce their presence much sooner than they wanted it to.
There would be no hiding from the cultist since he knew they were there, but the longer they could remain out of sight, the better the chances they could control the terms of the eventual meeting.
That was what Reynolds wanted.
He was sure the cultist was preparing for them, but it would be best for them if Jora’nal didn’t see them coming.
Not until the last minute, at least.
They needed him on the defensive, ready to bolt; ready to run and hide behind his master’s skirts so they could track the wannabe god down.
That was a small part of the project Takal and Xyxl had worked on, the pair designing a tracker they could deploy discreetly in order to trace the movements of the Pillar no matter where it Gated, much like Jora’nal had done to them at their first meeting.
Turnabout’s a motherfucker.
The rest of the project was a secret he couldn’t wait to reveal in the fight against Phraim-’Eh.
The crew continued walking, assailed by the sights and sounds of the wild city.
As they slipped deeper into the business sector of Aspar’s Hold, barkers at clubs and shops and strip joints vied for their attention, accosting them at nearly every step with offers of all kinds.
The crew obliged them to a small degree like locals might, snarling and jeering and waving them off as they continued, but their slow, harried pace was nothing more than cover for surveilling
the scene, looking for anyone who had a connection to Jora’nal or his ship.
Scanners running full time, their inputs linked to Geroux’s system, the crew made their way through the streets with a purpose. They stopped here and there, looking through shop windows and examining merchandise long enough to avoid looking completely out of place, but it was as if no one cared about them at all.
They were just nameless faces on the street.
In the hustle and bustle of pedestrian traffic, people glanced their way, but there was no concerted effort to stare them down or impede their path.
Not until a crowd of obviously drunk males plowed straight into Geroux as she had her head turned, examining a side street.
She stumbled backward and bumped into a pole, grunting at the unexpected impact.
“Watch where you’re going,” one of the males barked, snarling at Geroux as she turned her gaze on him.
“You should know your place, bitch!” another jeered, laughing.
“Excuse me?” Jiya growled as the five males spun around to face her.
“The same goes for you, red-face,” the first told her, jabbing a finger in her direction and stepping in menacingly. “You don’t want any part of this.”
The others gathered at his back, following his lead, all of them swaying.
“You’re about to make a big mistake,” Maddox warned.
“Shut the fuck up,” the lead male said, shoving Jiya away from him.
“And there it is.” Maddox laughed.
Jiya punched the leader, driving her fist knuckle-deep into his stomach. The shit-talker whoofed and folded, doubling up to clutch at his stomach as he fell heavily to his knees. He gasped for breath as Jiya loomed over him.
One of the others shook off his surprise and leapt at Jiya, but he didn’t make it anywhere close to her.
Ka’nak stepped in with a massive grin and struck him sharply in the jaw.
There was a loud crack, like a tree branch being snapped in half, and the guy crashed into a nearby wall, his jaw crooked on his face. He slid to the ground with wide, glassy eyes spinning in their sockets.
