The Siren

by Petra Landon

  The stranger facing her moved to exit the room as his seated employer stood up. The back of his head moved into view first. As he strode to the console on the wall, Novi’s eyes widened. Huge and well-built, with dark hair worn longer than an InnerWorlder, he was dressed in a simple gray shirt over dark trousers tucked into boots. The rolled-up shirt sleeves served to accentuate the powerful forearms and the swarthy skin covered with a fine dusting of hair.

  RimWorlder.

  Before Novi could react, the console blinked on and a vaguely familiar face filled it. In his mid-thirties, the man was attired in a sharp suit with a neatly-pressed handkerchief in his left pocket that displayed the lightning-bolt shaped insignia of Venn Corp.

  “Captain” the sharply-dressed man on the console addressed the RimWorlder respectfully.

  “Mr. Ventini” the Captain greeted him. “What can I do for you?”

  This was not Zufon Ventini, Novi knew. For one, he was too young. Plus, pictures of the great man were plastered on advertisements for the Labyrinth all over the Inner Worlds. Even outposts like Idriko had not escaped the barrage of publicity. This must be the son, Zedak Ventini, she concluded.

  “Father says you’re on a mission for him, Captain?”

  “We’ve concluded the task, Mr. Ventini. It was a dead end. No one’s seen the woman on Idriko or any of the neighboring outposts.”

  Shyte. It’s Venn Corp that’s asking questions about Hirona.

  The Captain’s answer did not seem to surprise Zedak Ventini. Novi took that as a good sign. They hadn’t expected to discover Hirona on Idriko.

  “In that case, I’ve a couple of jobs if you’re interested, Captain?”

  So, the Cruiser worked for Venn Corp, was captained by a RimWorlder and flew the Renegade emblem. Hmm, Novi mused, perhaps the RimWorlder had fought as a Renegade or believed in their cause. That might explain the mascot on the entryway.

  “What jobs?” the Captain inquired.

  No, Novi corrected herself. The Cruiser worked with Venn Corp, not for them. The deference in Zedak Ventini’s manner towards the RimWorlder Captain made it evident that this vessel did not take orders from Venn Corp.

  “Escort duty for some rare artifacts from father’s latest expedition” Ventini explained. “Nothing time sensitive. Just the usual safe transport to Headquarters.”

  While Venn Corp made money hand over fist with its Star Portal Labyrinth, it was common knowledge that Zufon Ventini continued his expeditions on the side. But Venn Corp, like other corporations, employed its own private military — Ventini Guards. So, why would Venn Corp hire others to escort their precious cargo, Novi wondered. Plus, Zedak Ventini’s remarks made it clear that Venn Corp had used the Captain to transport their artifacts before.

  “The second enterprise is delicate and requires someone with your touch, Captain” Zedak Ventini continued.

  The Captain said nothing.

  But whatever the Ventini heir glimpsed on the RimWorlder’s face must have satisfied him for Zedak looked pleased. “Retrieving an escaped prisoner.”

  “A bounty contract?” the RimWorlder asked.

  Though the man’s voice did not betray much, Novi had the feeling that the Captain was surprised.

  “With a difference” Ventini answered. “We won’t pay if he’s dead. But if you bring him in alive, Venn Corp will pay bounty. Also, if you provide intel that helps us catch him, we’ll pay handsomely. Seven figures, Captain.”

  Behind the vent, Novi went bug-eyed at the sum.

  Seven figures for retrieving an escaped prisoner. Must be a hugely important one.

  “What’s he done?” asked the Captain, echoing Novi’s thoughts.

  “It’s not what he’s done, but what he is. A Synth working to raise an army.” Zedak Ventini shrugged. “Dead, he becomes a martyr to the cause. But alive, he’ll provide us intel on other Synths.”

  Synthetics had been cropping up on the Inner Worlds in the last decade. Novi wasn’t sure what made them dangerous, but she’d never encountered one. Or perhaps, she had without knowing it. With the prevailing rampant prejudice against Synths, she doubted anyone would voluntarily advertise it.

  Again, the Captain said nothing. His silence pushed the man on the console into further speech.

  “This is nothing like the Rim Worlds, Captain” Ventini assured him persuasively. “They’re not fighting to save their homes from invaders. They’re demanding special privileges for Synths on the Inner Worlds.”

  This time, the Captain was blunt.

  “Why does Venn Corp care about Guild citizens demanding privileges, Mr. Ventini?” the RimWorlder asked evenly.

  Zedak Ventini pursed his lips, looking grave. “This is highly classified, Captain. I would appreciate it if you kept it to yourself. Venn Corp has credible intel that the Synths plan to blow up Star Portals and disrupt Guild Corps movement. That puts Venn Corp property at risk and we’d like to get ahead of the threat.”

  The Star Portals were Venn Corps’ prized assets. The technology had made them the richest corporation on the Inner Worlds in a dizzyingly short time. Connected in a mesh called the Star Portal Labyrinth, the portals used wormhole technology to tunnel ships through space at incredible speeds. What had taken the fastest vessel a matter of weeks, and sometimes months, could now be travelled in the blink of an eye. Venn Corp had four of these Star Portals in operation on the Inner Worlds. They were expensive but the Guild had the money to pay for portal travel. Novi understood that bringing down a Star Portal would disrupt the Coalition by delaying the Corps from responding to trouble in the farthest reaches of their territory.

  “I’ll think about it, Mr. Ventini.” The Captain was noncommittal.

  “Good.” The man on the console seemed content. “We’ll pay the usual fee for transporting the artifacts, Captain. Venn Corp will transfer half the payment now and the rest after delivery. Shall I tell father to expect you?”

  “Yes” the Captain confirmed.

  “You have unlimited privileges on SPL, Captain. Use the portals as you see fit.”

  The RimWorlder was tight with Venn Corp, Novi realized to her bemusement. Venn Corp wasn’t even charging his Cruiser for traveling the Labyrinth. Corporations were rarely that generous, even to their closest allies.

  “This Synth” the Captain interjected abruptly. “What prison did he break out of?”

  “Serak Vedino broke out of Kuzhampa five days ago. Since then, he’s been sighted in the Badlands near the Azunti system.”

  So, the Synth had escaped the prison on Idriko to hide out in the Asteroid Ring. Novi knew the Ring was referred to as the Badlands, due to the dangerous conditions and the enormous difficulty of navigating through the hurtling asteroids.

  “I hope you agree to take on the bounty, Captain. You’re the best man for the job. And Venn Corp likes doing business with you.”

  The console went dark as Zedak Ventini signed off. For a moment, the Captain stood motionless, seemingly lost in thought, before he activated his Hailer. It routed through the speakers in his quarters, rather than his earpiece.

  “Jeryn” a woman’s voice with the same lilting cadences as the Captain answered the communicator.

  Another RimWorlder, like the Captain.

  “Need a word, Zin” the Captain said briefly, with an easy familiarity.

  “Be right over” she signed off.

  As the last of her words echoed through the chamber, the Captain turned to face the vent. Novi’s jaw slackened in shock, as she took in the strong hard-planed face with silver eyes that seemed to glow like a beacon amidst the jet-black hair and tan skin.

  He’s not any Renegade. He’s the Renegade — Ryfkin Soren himself.

  The man who brought the Guild to its knees.

  Ryfkin Soren was rumored to have unusual light eyes, an anomaly for the large-framed, dark-haired, dark-skinned and dark-eyed RimWorlders — a physical contrast to the shorter, light-skinned, bright-haired and light-eyed InnerWorlders.<
br />
  Adrift

  A woman entered the room to greet the Captain. Tall and slim, she was attired similarly to the Renegade — in a plain shirt over trousers tucked into scuffed boots. Her abundant dark hair lay coiled neatly at her nape. The RimWorlders were built on generous lines, Novi reflected. Tall as the RimWorlder male was, the woman came nearly to his chin.

  “Mihado?” he offered.

  “Don’t mind if I do” she answered.

  The Captain disappeared from Novi’s view. Mihado came from the Rim Worlds, liquor from a palm fruit found in their rainforests. Novi had never tasted it but was aware that it was strong stuff. Mihado was rumored to be very much an acquired taste.

  The Captain reappeared with two rustic goblets made of palm husk, to hold one out to his guest. She turned slightly to face him. Both in profile to Novi now, they raised their goblets in unison.

  “RenWelders unite” she said.

  There was a note in her voice that puzzled the watching girl. Nevertheless, the words sent a chill down Novi’s spine. This had once been the rallying cry for the Renegades fighting to expel the Guild from the Rim Worlds. It was akin to history unfolding before her eyes.

  The woman had been a Renegade too, Novi realized. A Renegade close to the legendary leader. There was an easy familiarity between them and their body language around each other spoke of ease. The Captain had not been as informal with the InnerWorlder he’d dispatched to Idriko to ask questions.

  He gestured to the chairs by the vent and the woman’s face came into view. Novi’s eyes widened. The RimWorlder was the most beautiful woman Novi had ever seen. Large dark eyes set in a smooth oval face with perfectly symmetric features, the woman was almost impossibly gorgeous. The hair, pulled back into a severe chignon at her nape, threw the lovely bones of her face into prominence.

  The Captain retook his previous seat directly below the vent and his guest seated herself across from him. Novi scrutinized the woman’s face carefully. Something, a strong emotion, seemed to hold the woman in its grip — her face appeared like a beautiful frozen mask. The dark eyes were blank with smooth skin stretched tight over the cheekbones, as if she were under tremendous stress. At first glance, the woman’s spectacular beauty had cloaked it, but now Novi could discern the subtle signs of a strong emotion held in check, almost by an act of sheer will.

  “Zedak Ventini offered us a bounty contract” the Captain said in his deep voice with the lilting cadences.

  The woman’s eyebrow arched slightly. Novi couldn’t tell whether it was surprise or pleasure or something else altogether.

  “A bounty with a difference” he explained. “Venn Corp only pays if we bring him in alive or provide intel that leads to his capture.”

  “What bounty are they offering?” she asked.

  “Seven figures for intel. More for bringing him in.”

  “Feckin’ Hadis” she muttered under her breath, clearly taken aback.

  Novi smiled. The RimWorlder had a mouth on her. One that belied the icy immaculate beauty of her face.

  “The terms are unusual, Ryf” she acknowledged. “But you and I have gone after stranger bounty before.”

  Her eyes scanned his face as he remained silent.

  “What is it that has you leery?” she asked shrewdly.

  “It’s fishy as Hadis, Zin.”

  Her face softened, as the frozen mask relaxed just a tad. These two were fond of each other, Novi surmised. Perhaps, even lovers.

  “Then, it probably is gnarly, Ryf. I’d trust your instincts any day.”

  Her eyes showed emotion. “Many times, it’s what separated us from death and defeat.”

  She’s talking about the war.

  “When you put it like that, Zin” the Captain drawled. “I admit the Soren instincts are feckin’ screaming.”

  “Tell me.” She leaned back to settle into the chair.

  “The bounty is for an escaped prisoner from Kuzhampa.”

  She looked puzzled. “The prison on Idriko?”

  “Yes.”

  “But that’s a high security Guild prison.”

  He agreed with her. “Ventini says the man is a Synth they want alive for the details on an army he’s raising.”

  The woman did not hesitate. “I know you, Ryf. You asked Zedak Ventini to his face why he cares about a Guild prisoner raising an army against the Coalition.”

  “You know me too well, Zin. It gets stranger. Ventini claims they have intel about Synth plans to blow up their Star Portals.”

  “How might that benefit the Synt …” She paused as it struck her. “It would hamper the Guild Corps chasing Synth ships. Level the playing field a bit.”

  Novi grasped what she meant. No Synth vessel could afford portal travel. This gave the Guild a clear edge. The Labyrinth was expensive.

  “I won’t cavil with that. It’s the intel that’s gnarly, Zin.”

  The woman gave an elegant snort that indicated her derision. “Venn Corp has no intel. The Guards prance around like peacocks in their fancy livery but cannot protect a shipment of Zufon Ventini’s artifacts. Where would they get any intel on Synths!”

  Behind the vent, Novi arched an eyebrow. The woman made no bones of her skepticism and poor opinion of Venn Corp’s private forces. These RimWorlders were canny, she mused. Not easily seduced by Venn Corp dangling a pile of money before them. Perhaps, the brutal five year war to fight off a corporate invasion of their homelands had left its mark on the RimWorlders. Novi had heard that no corporations held sway on the Rim Worlds. With a few exceptions, the worlds on the outer edges of the Asteroid Ring were ruled by a local tribal system.

  The Captain did not disagree with his guest. Instead, he surprised Novi with his words.

  “I’ve had suspicions for a while that Venn Corp and the Guild are getting into bed together. Jerik said the authorization Ventini gave us had the Idriko Mine jumping to co-operate.”

  “What do you suspect, Ryf?” she asked, her eyes searching his face.

  “That the Guild fed this information about the Synth to Venn Corp, knowing fully well that any threat to the Star Portals would have Ventini put their best assets on it.”

  The woman frowned. “We’re Venn Corp’s best assets.”

  “We are, Zin” the Captain affirmed, without hesitation. “And I’d wager the Guild knows it. For some reason, the Coalition wants this Synth caught alive. They know we can bring him in. They’re using Venn Corp to hire us to do their dirty work.”

  “You’re right, Ryf” she said promptly. “The bounty is gnarly. I want no truck with the Gorath.”

  Yes, Novi mused, to the RimWorlders, the Guild was the personification of he who was believed to occupy Hadis. Probably worse, in fact. The devil, at least, needed an invitation to meddle. The Guild had required none to invade the Rim Worlds. Hadis was the Rim Worlds’ equivalent of Hell — what the InnerWorlders called Zeuf.

  “The thing is” the Captain paused.

  “What?”

  “Aren’t you curious why the Guild wants this Synth so badly, Zin?”

  “The Guild was just handed its first defeat in a century, Ryf. By the RenWelders. They’re leery of disaffected InvunWelders threatening their dominance here.”

  “Perhaps” the Captain said, his tone hinting at his skepticism.

  Even Novi knew that the Synths, persecuted, on the run, and with little resources to call upon, were no threat to the financial or military might of the Guild. Not unless the Synths’ circumstances changed drastically.

  “The Coalition risks much by manipulating them” he reminded her. “If Ventini gets suspicious, the Guild’s courtship of Venn Corp comes crashing down.”

  “It’s not much of a gamble” she countered. “The Guild remains the most powerful entity, by far, on either side of the Asteroid Ring.”

  The RimWorlders might have defeated the Guild, but they didn’t underestimate the might and influence of the Coalition. Good, Novi mused approvingly, it would keep the
m vigilant and on their toes.

  “Yes” the Captain admitted. “But don’t underestimate what losing access to the SPL means for the Coalition. The Guild needs the Labyrinth to oversee its empire, Zin. They’ve planted their flag on far-flung reaches of the Invun Welds they could never covet were it not for the portals.”

  The woman looked arrested by his argument. “Hmm, if they’re willing to risk portal travel, they must be desperate” she murmured.

  “Without the ability to jump, the Guild risks a rebellion in the distant corners of their territory” he reiterated pensively.

  The woman straightened. “What are you thinking, Ryf?”

  “That if there’s a rebellion to be started, I want to light the spark.”

  Her lips twisted. “You’ll get no arguments from me. I’m all in to fan any flames against the Gorath.”

  “But how do we untangle this thread?” she asked him.

  “Go to the Badlands and ask this Synth why the Guild wants him” the Captain said promptly.

  “He’s in the Badlands?”

  “By the Azunti system, per Ventini’s information.”

  “There have been rumors of Synth ships in the Badlands” the RimWorlder woman acceded.

  “Well, if Ventini’s information about Azunti came from the Guild too, then they’ve just shown us a way to contact the Synth.”

  For a few minutes, there was silence. Novi couldn’t tell what was going on, except that the woman studied her male companion.

  “You think it’s time, Ryf?” she asked softly.

  “About time to start prodding for vulnerabilities, Zin.” His voice hardened. “The Guild wants this Synth because he knows something — there’s no bounty for his death.”

  “It’s been six months” she said, the blank dark eyes glowing in her face.

  “The Edhoran Accord says nothing about exposing the Guild’s dirty secrets” he remarked.

  She nodded mutely, her eyes on him.