Earthfall: The Circuit
Book Three of The Circuit Trilogy
Rhett C. Bruno
Copyright
Diversion Books
A Division of Diversion Publishing Corp.
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New York, NY 10016
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Copyright © 2016 by Rhett C. Bruno
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
For more information, email [email protected]
First Diversion Books edition December 2016
ISBN: 978-1-68230-324-5
CHAPTER ONE—TALON
Morastus Man
Talon Rayne’s fist slammed into the shopkeeper’s rib cage, the sound of bone crunching drowned out by muffled screams. He was stronger back then, years before the gravity generator exploded on Kalliope and his hand was striped with the vibrant lines of the Blue Death.
A former runner for the Morastus Clan named Mavik Tressum had disappeared the day before along with spare parts destined for Zargo Morastus’ personal service androids. “I’m not going to ask again,” Talon’s level voice said. “Where did Mavik go with the parts you gave him?”
The shopkeeper groaned. His hands were bound behind the back of a chair, and he’d lost the energy to try to yank free early on in the interrogation. “I told you I don’t know.”
“Sure, and all of that pico just magically found its way into your account?”
“He said they were for Mr. Morastus. I swear!”
Talon pistoned another fist into the man’s cheek, causing him to spit up a gob of blood. “C’mon, how long has he provided you protection? You know that’s a higher rate than he’d ever give you.”
The shopkeeper coughed. “You’re right…Instead he pays me with you.”
“I’m not here to negotiate new terms. Now, if you want to hold onto this dump, I suggest you start talking.” Talon gestured to the surrounding room. The shop was a small hollow carved beneath the rock of one of the Buckle’s towering hangars. Rusty parts were stacked against the walls, organized by their function. After the Earth Reclaimer Wars, robotics production facilities were all left in cinders, and Ceresians were too frightened of annihilation to construct any in secret and defy the treaty they’d signed with the New Earth Tribunal. Keeping the remaining androids running was left to those who’d managed to scavenge enough spare parts and had the knowledge to install them.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Talon,” the shopkeeper said.
“You must think I enjoy this.” Talon wound up to hit him again, and the man flinched.
“Stop!” he shrieked. “I’ll tell you what I know, but you have to promise to leave a guard or two here after. They’ll come after me.”
Talon wiped a drop of blood off of the chest plate of his Morastus armor. The navy blue suit was riddled with scratches and dents, but somehow it still retained its luster. He always kept it polished. “Who’ll come after you?” he asked.
“Do I have your word?”
“Do I have yours that you’ll stick to the contract you agreed to from here on out? If Zargo has to send me here again I won’t be as polite.”
The man’s cheeks went pale. “Fine…Whatever you people want.”
“Good call.”
After a long pause the shopkeeper took a deep breath. “Look. All I know is that Mavik sold Madame Lakura the parts Zargo purchased. She gave him quite an offer to turn sides and he seemed eager to do it. Not surprising if this is how you treat your employees.”
Talon grabbed the man by the jaw and glared directly into his eyes. “The Lakura Clan? You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!” The shopkeeper pulled his face free. “The idiot wouldn’t stop bragging about it. Even tossed me a few extra pico to keep quiet. Said he’ll be off this rock before anyone can find out.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s all I know.”
Talon walked behind the man and made him sweat for a few seconds before unfastening his hands. “I find out you’re lying and I’ll be back.”
Talon didn’t look back as he left the shop, but he could hear the man swallow hard. The hatch closed behind him, and the din of the Ceres Buckle greeted his ears. Traders, whores and everything else one could imagine filled the towering cavern. Two Morastus guards waited for him outside, rifles in hand and making sure everyone knew the parts shop was temporarily closed.
“Contact Mr. Morastus,” he said. He stepped into a nook nearby the shop’s entry hatch so that he’d be able to hear over the market’s din.
“Yes, sir.”
The guard switched on a portable HOLO-Pad and handed it to him. A few moments later a feed opened up, displaying the private quarters of Zargo Morastus, the most powerful man in the asteroid belt, though there were many rivals who didn’t want to admit that. He sat at a table with a three-dimensional map of the Circuit projected above it. His handsome young son, Zaimur, sat across from him, looking disinterested in whatever lecture was being given to him. He stroked the head of a small, sleeping dog lying by his feet.
“Talon, my friend!” Zargo exclaimed. “I hope you have good news.”
Talon nodded his head deferentially. “I’ve had better, unfortunately.”
Zargo’s eyes narrowed, a web of wrinkles forming around them. Apart from the wrinkles it was difficult to tell just how old he was. His hair may have been gray, but he appeared remarkably healthy for coming up on seventy years. He had the physique of a man half his age, and the mind to match it. “Out with it then. I think I’ve already got an idea.”
“It looks like Mavik’s decided to get in bed with the Lakura. Sold Yara all of your parts for an extra bump and ran.”
Zargo’s fist slammed down on his table. Zaimur flinched, and his animal companion jumped awake, its beady eyes searching for what had roused it. “That ungrateful—! If there’s one thing I don’t tolerate, it's disloyalty. Ask to leave with dignity and I’ll happily grant it, but this…”
“Will you kill him, Dad?” Zaimur interrupted, with the high-pitched voice of a boy suffering puberty.
Hearing the question furrowed Zargo’s brow. “He will be punished accordingly, my son.”
“Well I think he deserves to be spaced publicly this time.”
“Quiet!” Zargo boomed. “Keep your thoughts to yourself and let me handle this.”
“Spacing him seems excessive, Sir,” Talon said, “but a message needs to be sent. I’ve worked with him long enough though. I’ll be able to track him down and make him pay back every last credit. Then he can work lifting crates in the hangars until he’s wrinkled.”
Zargo took a moment to think, then shook his head. “Don’t waste your time. I’ll contact Yara and have her send him back.”
“With all due respect, why the hell would she do that?”
“I have no interest in fighting her over a few spare parts. She can keep them in return for the traitor. One less dishonorable man by my side is a victory in itself.”
“But sir, Yara stole from you.”
“We steal from each other every day. At least she understands the importance of loyalty. She’ll happily rid herself of Mavik, and perhaps she’ll even do the right thing and return what he stole.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
He cracked a grin. “So do I. But remember, Zaimur…Zaimur, are you listening?”
“Yes, Dad,” he moaned.
“Take every opportuni
ty to improve relations with your rivals. There’s no form of payment more lucrative than a favor.”
“Wise words,” Talon agreed. “So what do you want me to do with Mavik after I have him?”
“My very young son has the correct idea, but we don’t waste the threat of vacuum on vermin. A bullet should do fine.”
“Sir, he’s a good operative when he focuses. I’m sure we can come to another arrangement.”
“He’s had enough chances. I tire of all the thankless switching of sides.” Talon did his best to remain stoic. Zargo must have seen right through it, however, because his features darkened with concern. “You’ve worked with him for a long time, Talon. I could send someone else.”
Talon and Mavik weren’t close, but they’d come up the same way, working for the Morastus Clan since they were children orphaned by the war. They'd had to do whatever it took to put food in their bellies, like so many other Ceresian kids did. As one of Zargo Morastus’ lead enforcers, Talon had risen as high as he could without going into management, which was far from his strong suit. Mavik would’ve been there as well if he didn’t have such a skill for gambling away his earnings.
“That won’t be necessary, sir,” Talon said. “He made his choice.” Mavik wasn’t the first turncoat he’d dealt with and he knew he wouldn’t be the last. It was in Ceresian nature to jockey for better deals, to gamble. Sometimes Talon felt like he was the only one happy in his post.
“Send me with him, Dad,” Zaimur chimed in. “I’ll make sure he follows orders like a good boy.”
“You’ll stay here and continue your studies,” Zargo snapped. “You have to understand how the Circuit works if you ever hope to run a portion of it. Talon will do as I order just like he always does, and if you speak out of turn again, I’ll invite him here to teach you some respect.”
Zaimur mumbled something under his breath, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair. A few seconds later he lifted his pet up onto his lap and stroked its back while it glared at Talon through the feed. It wasn’t the first time Talon had heard that threat directed at the only son of his boss and mentor. The more often he interacted with the boy the more he thought a lesson in respect might be just what he needed.
“I’ll take care of it,” Talon asserted.
“I know you will. I can always trust you.” Zargo sighed. “Now I just need to find someone to replace Mavik. He was a fine runner.”
Talon smirked. “Or you could just pay me double to handle both our work.”
Zargo allowed himself to crack a grin as well. “Trust me, I’ve considered it. Transmit the coordinates of somewhere discreet to complete this transaction and take care of it.”
• • •
Hours later, Talon was standing on his favorite promontory in the West 534 Housing District. The vibrant lights of the Dome, a haven for all things depraved, flickered in the distance, painting the rocky walls with a dozen different colors. He had a host of Morastus men with him, all armed with pulse-rifles. He had brought his along as well. The Lakura were well known for going back on deals, and had a penchant for using explosives. He had sharpshooters hidden in the hovels and hollows that filled the cliffside, keeping their eyes out for anything suspicious.
Talon watched silently as a line of armed Lakura men, wearing their faded yellow colors, marched down the carved out pathway leading to the promontory. At their front, Mavik was being prodded down the path with a cloth sack over his head. He was stripped down to rags, looking much like he had when Zargo Morastus took him in. They stopped where the ground flattened out and forced him to his knees.
“Mavik Tressum, as negotiated,” the lead Lakura enforcer said. He was a gaunt man, with a chin that came to a knifepoint, and his eyes had a twitch to them which Talon didn’t trust.
Talon didn’t risk getting any closer. He held back his own men as well. “Remove the bag,” he shouted.
The Lakura enforcer didn’t move, instead glaring at Talon like he was itching to start a brawl. Talon didn’t budge, and eventually the enforcer ceded and tore the bag off of Mavik’s head.
“You can’t do this!” Mavik screamed. “Madame Lakura and I had a deal.”
“Now we have another one,” the enforcer said. “Morastus scum.” He kicked Mavik in the back, then spit on him before turning around with his entourage and leaving.
Talon gave it a few more seconds before moving. He remained wary of his surroundings the entire way, and when he wasn’t blown to bits by the time he reached the traitor he knew the Lakura Clan had kept its word. He wasn’t sure why he worried Zargo would ever be duped.
He grabbed Mavik by the back of the neck and lifted his head. His face was bruised, blood streamed out of his nostrils. “Talon, old friend,” Mavik stammered. “By Earth, I’m glad it’s you.”
“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
“You wouldn’t have turned it down, either. Yara offered just enough to fuck the old man over and for me to get off this rock. Go buy a shop far from under his boot.”
“And look where trusting a Lakura got you.”
Mavik went to stand up, but Talon drew a pulse-pistol and shoved it against his chest to keep him put. “Don’t you get tired of being his lackey?”
“I can’t complain.”
“You’re lying and you know it. It’s not too late to get out. We can start a new clan together on Pallus maybe, or Eureka. Tell ourselves what to do. I still have the pico in my account.”
“You’ll be paying that back to Mr. Morastus.”
Mavik scowled. “What, just because he put a gun in our hands when we had nowhere else to go we owe him our lives?”
“No, but we pledged them to him. Our word has to be worth something.”
“You and your damn righteousness. What now, you take everything I’ve got and work me until I’m bones?”
Talon raised his pistol to Mavik’s forehead and held it there steady. “Oh, c’mon, Talon,” Mavik said. “How long have we known each other? Don’t do this. Send me far away, but don’t do this.”
It took all of Talon’s willpower to retain his staid façade. Following orders wasn’t always easy, but Zargo lived by a strict code of honor, and it was one Talon was happy to uphold, even when he knew deep down he wished there were another way. He looked to the high, craggy ceiling of his housing district’s cavern, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger.
• • •
Talon traversed a cluster of shacks constructed along the craggy wall of the cavern, and made his way to Dome 534. The blue-clad bouncers posted outside let him in on sight. The Morastus Clan ran the place, and as a lead enforcer he got to live in one of the subterranean suites beneath the club. He went there first, washed his hands of blood, and changed into a formal tunic. Then he headed back upstairs to the club. It took a few minutes to shove his way through the congested dance floor to the bar.
“The usual,” he said to the android bartender. It scanned his ID, and when it registered who he was, referred to him as “sir” and didn’t bother to charge him. It returned with a tall glass of bright green Synthrol—the strongest in the place. He downed half of it in a single gulp.
“Rough day?” a man next to him said as he sat down.
Talon glanced over without lifting his sagging head. The man was a tremendous fellow, with dark skin and a boiler suit indicating that he was a Morastus miner. “I’ve had worse,” Talon grumbled.
The big man flashed a big, toothy smile. “Haven’t we all. Tell you what, next one’s on me.”
“Trust me, I don’t need it. But thanks. What’s your—”
“Talon Fucking Rayne!” a woman yelled.
Talon whipped around, hand falling to his concealed pistol before he realized who she was. She was one of the club’s best dancers, though she wasn’t afraid to do whatever else it took to pay for her habits. Talon knew this personally. When she wasn’t strung out on some synthetic drug she was easily the most stunning woman on Ceres. Presen
tly, she seemed to be straight.
“Vera,” Talon answered. “It’s been a while.”
The big man beside Talon couldn’t help but stare at her as she stormed over. She took no effort to conceal, a skimpy leotard covering so little of her that she may as well have been naked. Talon caught himself staring as well, but her glower quickly earned his attention.
“No thanks to you,” she snapped.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She had a bundle of clothes in her hands, and she shoved them into Talon’s gut before he could do anything about it. There was weight to them, however. “She’s yours. It’s your turn to deal with her.”
Talon looked down at the bundle and noticed a tiny face peeking through. There was a swaddled infant who couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old.
Words froze on Talon’s lips. He hadn’t seen Vera in some time and figured she’d just slipped into one of her drug-induced stupors. They’d shared nights together, but the baby couldn’t be his. It couldn’t.
“Her name’s Elisha,” Vera said after Talon remained quiet for too long. “And you owe me for the months I couldn’t work.” She sauntered away, purposefully swaying her hips as far as possible with every step to earn the stares of every male patron at the bar.
Talon turned his attention back down to the child, completely speechless. She was equally silent; her big, inquisitive blue eyes stared back at him.
• • •
As Talon stared out the exit ramp of the Monarch into the hangar of the Morastus Clan flagship years later, that memory seemed like yesterday. He’d never expected her, but from the moment Elisha entered his life it was changed. He had requested to abdicate his former position with the Morastus, which Zargo had begrudgingly allowed. They rarely spoke again afterwards. Talon didn’t care. He'd had the chance to give Elisha the life he'd never had—until he lost her.
“Talon?”
Talon shook his head and returned to the present. Yara Lakura and her soldiers stood in front of him at the bottom of the ramp. Her face was coated with blood and grime.
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