by TR Cameron
The other man choked out a laugh. “Yeah. A nice stroll to end the day, right?”
Jax turned to face him and put a little command in his voice. “Kenton, look at me.” His partner lifted his eyes from the ground. “What happened back there sucked, and at some point, you’ll have the time to process it properly. At the moment it’s playing with your head, which is totally natural. You need to pack it all away and focus on one thing: getting the hell off this planet. After that, anything is possible. Until then, nothing is.”
Marshall drew a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and nodded. “Right. You’re right. I’m good.”
Not quite, but if not good, at least good enough. “We’d best get started then.” They walked for a dozen blocks, avoiding eye contact with the aliens walking on their side of the street. Vehicles drove to their left, pod-like things that were taller than the cars he was familiar with and also about three-quarters as long. The uniform spacing between them suggested they were controlled by some central system or used the same internal programming. It was kind of a surprise to see personal transports. Somehow, he’d figured it would all be shared. Sneaky assumptions are sneaky.
He turned to comment on it to his companion when one of the vehicles pulled over to the side and the doors to the passenger compartment folded toward the back. Maria Verrand lifted an eyebrow at them. “Hey soldiers, need a lift?”
“And that’s why we decided we’d drive around at a distance at the top of every hour, in case you showed up.” Verrand was all smiles at having been the one to find them. Apparently, there’d been a wager involved.
Jax shook his head and addressed the third person in the medical bay. “Cia, I figured you’d be out of here, good riddance to bad rubbish, off to the stars.”
Her laugh was chiming and happy. Dare I believe she might have been worried? Surely not. “I made the argument, but the others wouldn’t let me leave you behind. It seems that whatever brainwashing you did, or mind-altering drugs you injected them with to think that you’re worthwhile, was a success.”
He snorted and scratched the healing wounds on his chest. The medical pod had accelerated the process, and he’d be back to normal in a few hours. Or, as the pilot had put it when she’d shared the pod’s readout, “As normal as you ever are.”
Jax changed the subject. “So, we got what your friend wanted. Will he hold up his end of the bargain?”
She shook her head. “Remember, he’s not my friend. The opposite. And no, I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”
That resonated. “Do you think he deliberately set us up?”
Cia scowled in silence for a few seconds before shaking her head again. “No. He wanted the thing, and he’s getting the thing. Unless he had some backdoor deal to deliver us to the aliens, there’d be no profit in it for him. And if such an arrangement did exist, I don’t imagine they’d have given you any chance to walk out alive.”
He nodded, having come to the same conclusions. Always good to perception-check, though. “Unless their spirit of competition is that honorable or something. All right. Next question, do you think he’s going to try to screw with us when we drop this off?”
She grinned, but it was more feral than happy. “Count on it.”
He rose with a groan. “Okay, then.” To Verrand he said, “How about you go have a chat with Kimmel? See what he was able to pull about the defenses at the scumbag’s mansion. We tried to be polite and play this straight, but this time we’re going in ready for whatever trouble he tries to bring.”
She nodded and departed on the task, and Cia asked, “You okay?”
Jax shrugged. “I’m pissed off, to be honest. But more than that, I’m worried about Marshall. They gave him a beating, at least. Might have done something more to him. We need to keep an eye on him, in case he’s been compromised.” The odds were slim. Even a master at breaking and reprogramming would have found it challenging to accomplish in the time they’d had, and they had no evidence the aliens understood how humans functioned enough to manage it regardless of duration. Still, paranoia was a survival trait in his business, and he’d learned to listen to the crazy ideas from the little voice in his head. I probably shouldn’t describe it to Cia that way, though. I’ll never hear the end of it.
Cia asked, “Should I let the others know? I can cycle them through the pilot compartment for training as a plausible excuse.”
“No, let’s keep this between us. I don’t think it’s a real concern, and biasing them against him because of it would be bad. Right now, he’s going to need every bit of support he can find, so if you hear anyone giving him trouble or thinking about doing so, make sure they don’t.”
“Is he okay?”
Jax chuckled. “I’m not convinced he was ever okay. He has some garbage to deal with. We’ve all gone through it, and now it’s his turn. I’ll help him as best I can, and if there are still issues when we get back, maybe Juno will have some suggestions.”
He knew it was a mistake the instant the words left his tongue. Cia’s mouth formed a perfect O for a moment, then she grinned and her eyebrows shot up. “Juno, is it? Not Doctor Cray?” She exited into the hallway singing, “Jackson and Juno, sitting in a tree….” He rolled his eyes, sighed, and went to look for Kenton Marshall, currently the second most annoying person in his life.
Chapter Twenty
Cia had hit up her contact for another ride, which he was more than happy to provide. When they climbed aboard the same luxury bus, he was unexpectedly absent. In his place was an equipment crate, strapped to the seat he’d used on the previous trip. The pilot pressed her palm against the reader and the box unlocked. Jax undid the straps and opened the container, then let out a low whistle. “Dang, he doesn’t like that other dude, does he?”
She laughed. “No, he does not.” Ethan Kimmel had managed to pull all sorts of interesting data during their prior visit to the mansion; so much, in fact, that Jax was shocked he’d avoided detection. That observation had earned a shrug from the young computer wizard, who still thought he was immortal despite all the challenges they’d faced so far.
Among the discoveries was that while they’d been scanned for metal and explosives, they hadn’t endured a full-body analysis. It seemed like an odd gap in the security of the place until Cia explained that some old-school criminals were willing to consent to the first, but not to the second. They didn’t appreciate the idea of some person or AI peering under their clothes without their permission. He thought that view was rather archaic, and definitely wouldn’t fly in any governmental or military installation. But it gave them an opening he fully intended to exploit.
The ship’s workbench had provided each of them with a pair of plastic knives. The first was almost flat and had a sharp cutting edge. Jax’s was currently hidden up his right sleeve. The other had a triangular blade with a point, designed to puncture a foe and prevent the wound from being easily closed. That one was in his left sleeve. None of their other weapons would pass muster, however, and they’d been prepared to go in with only the blades.
But Cia’s contact had improved their situation significantly. The pistols were small and used compressed air to shoot flechettes. No explosives or metal to detect, which would get them past the sensors, and their size, no bigger than his palm, made them easy to conceal. He tucked his inside his boot and pulled his trouser leg down to hide it. The box held one for each of them. He observed, “Now we owe this guy, don’t we?”
Cia nodded. “Yes, but it’ll be simple enough to discharge. I’ll have the family route some low-level work his way. Nothing that will make him a big fish, but something to get him out of the food tank and into a better one. Who knows, it might even lead to more work for him from folks at my family’s level.” She shrugged. “My obligation will be fulfilled after I make the connection for him.”
Jax frowned. “Is there any exposure for us if he decides he’s upset with that?”
“Depends on how the meeting goe
s, I guess. As long as things end without major injuries or deaths, I don’t see a problem. Sure, he can say I was here, but only at the risk of earning my family’s displeasure, which is something he should know not to do.”
Anton Sirenno interjected, “What, because they’d whack him?” His fake gangster accent made them all laugh.
“Exactly.” Cia rolled her eyes expressively. “No, because they have enough influence to ensure his business was driven into the ground. They’ve done it before. I should say we’ve done it before. There are some real bastards out there who don’t deserve to continue their scumbag ways.”
Jax blinked but didn’t push. She was drawing an interesting ethical line. While he was deeply interested in knowing the details of its boundaries, their impending arrival, plus the others listening in, made it the wrong time for that conversation. “All right. So, we’ll assume everything is going to go well. Everyone displays excessive respect and deference, right up until the moment Cia or I decide otherwise.” He stared into Kenton Marshall’s eyes to ensure he knew he was included in the warning. “Got it?”
They confirmed they did with words and nods. Jax grinned. “Then there’s no way we’re walking out of there with anything other than everything we came for.” Once again, he belatedly realized that setting himself up like that for the universe to slap him down was always a bad idea. But it got me last time, at the resort. Surely it won’t happen twice.
The bus lurched to a halt, and they repeated their entrance to the mansion, were greeted by the same butler, and escorted to the same den. He spotted a couple more guards standing around along the way, appearing to be in conversation but watching them with hard eyes as they passed. Cia’s face went into its neutral mode, which told him she was either irritated or worried. He blanked his expression and stretched out his fingers, warming up his hands for the possibility of action.
Their host awaited them on the same couch, this time with a glass of wine in his hand. He swirled the dark liquid lazily as they took their seats, then tilted his head at the butler. The uniformed servant asked, “Have you brought the item?”
Cia nodded, and Ethan Kimmel handed the cube over. Marshall said, “We worked hard for that.” Jax glared at him, but the pilot covered the statement.
“Not that you care what we had to go through to get it,” she affirmed. “Nor should you. The point is that we have fulfilled our side of the agreement.”
Vardebron nodded. “We must wait but a moment while my people ensure that you’ve gotten what I asked for. Not that I doubt your integrity, Master Rearden, but these are suspicious times. There’s no telling what those alien bastards got up to while it was in their possession.”
So it’s not something of theirs. Interesting. Jax had subjected the cube to all the light scanning he could manage on the Grace, including running the thing through the medical pod, but hadn’t managed to get a look inside. He’d resisted anything more aggressive for fear of damaging whatever it contained. The butler returned without the box, but with a meticulously carved stone cylinder. The container extended just a little to each side of the palm he used to present the object to his patron.
Vardebron took it and ran his hand across its surface. “This is from Coth, one of the first planets the Confederacy claimed after it had set down new roots. I thought it would be appropriate to offer you this along with my apology. When we came to our agreement, it was with the understanding that I would be able to supply the entire package he desired. Unfortunately, only half was available.”
Jax couldn’t suppress his scowl. He did manage not to speak, which he took as a small victory. Cia’s tone hadn’t changed. “Unfortunate. I would say that you’ve incurred a debt by failing to provide what was agreed upon.”
Their host nodded. “I have. And in partial payment of that obligation, I will share with you all the information you need to find the portion I was unable to secure. Unfortunately, the agents I sent to accomplish that task were far less skilled than you all, it appears.”
Jax watched Cia carefully, looking for a sign that the time had arrived to cause some trouble. He was sure that the guards had repositioned to a spot near the doors so they could react to such a move, but at the moment he found it hard to care. I would never make it in the world of a trader. Too many people trying to screw their partners out of a fair deal rather than working together. She gave no such signal, only accepted the container, rose, and offered her thanks and farewells.
His last sight of Vardebron was the man’s smirking face, and his palm itched to put a needle into it on general principles. Instead, he maintained his cool all the way to the bus, then he and Cia talked about unimportant things until they were back at the ship and out of the vehicle. As they climbed up the ladder to the hatch, he asked, “Do you think that bastard bugged the bus?”
She nodded. “I’m sure. Standard practice. The fancy container, too. We’ll get that into an emissions cage as soon as Kimmel gets his butt up here.” Jax played co-pilot as they got the appropriate clearances and headed back to space for the return trip to the Academy.
He laughed suddenly. “Well, we didn’t get everything we wanted, but at least we managed a half-success. Who knows, we keep at it, we might manage to complete a mission one of these days.”
Cia gave a soft snort. “I think the real question is, was there ever a possibility of getting the whole thing? And if not, was the Professor already aware of that when he sent us out? Was Vardebron?” She shrugged. “There’s no way to know for sure. It might be that we accomplished everything we were supposed to.”
“Do you ever get tired of the mystery?”
She laughed. “You’d think I would, wouldn’t you? But no, I really don’t. I love being part of the Academy, and I’m learning a lot of useful stuff along the way. So we didn’t get to the destination we thought we were headed for. That only means we need to find a new path, and that maybe where we’re meant to go is someplace different.”
Jax nodded slowly. “There’s definitely more to you than there seems to be at first glance, Master Rearden. You’ve given me something to think about.”
“Does it hurt? Thinking? Because of how unfamiliar you are with it? I bet the medical pod has a solution for that. Lobotomy, maybe.”
He rose with a sigh. “On that note, I should go have a chat with Marshall, make sure he’s not going to explode before we get back. Then I need some sleep. Those quick-heal drugs are rough.”
“Good plan. Send Kimmel up here. He’s a way better conversationalist, anyway.”
Jax lifted an eyebrow. “Conversation. That’s what you kids are calling it these days, huh? Well, you know, try not to wreck the ship while you’re conversing.” She sputtered, and he bolted before she could take away the thrill of his momentary verbal victory.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Grace landed in the early morning hours at the airfield northwest of the castle. Her crew had managed fitful rest, except for Cia, who claimed she slept better on the ship than anywhere else in the universe. A van awaited them, and they filed out to it and climbed in. Overall, he thought the team seemed depressed. It was a normal response, the post-action blues they were sometimes called in the Special Forces. Likely exacerbated for them all by their failure to come away with a clear victory.
One of the staff members met them as they arrived at the Academy. He addressed them as a group. “The Professor wanted me to congratulate you on your success and inform you that you’re invited to share a meal with him at noon. Until then, your time is yours to rest and recover.”
Kenton Marshall gave a low snort. “It appears lunch is mandatory.”
Anton Sirenno replied, “Everything here is mandatory in one way or another. We have only the illusion of choice.”
Maria Verrand shook her head. “Sounds like you boys need a nap. See you at chow time.” She strode off around the corner of the building, headed for the side door.
Jax nodded. “Sounds right. Later, y’all.” He wav
ed as he started down the etched sidewalk, the crest of a long-departed family continuing to provide a reminder of them in each concrete block. Although he’d planned to change clothes and head for the exercise room to burn off some of the tension he still carried, his bed looked exceptionally inviting. He fell into it without regret until the alarm he’d wisely set woke him to prepare for a meal with the Professor.
He dressed in the black quasi-uniform that was the standard garb for the Academy and followed the path his comm displayed. It took him toward the rear exit that had led to the social event during his first visit to the castle, where he’d learned about Juno’s position on dating students. Heh. It’s still bizarre to think of myself as a student. But I guess they need to call us something, to distinguish us from those who are here primarily to work rather than learn. He’d come around to the notion that everyone in the place was learning in one way or another, and he found he liked the idea.
An opening lay beyond the midpoint of that hallway, and he crossed the threshold to discover Cia and Ethan Kimmel had beat him to the location. He wasn’t sure if they were an actual couple, despite the teasing he’d been sending the pilot’s way, but he had an inkling they’d be pretty good for each other. The chamber itself was a formal dining room that had probably served the same purpose during the castle’s entire history. Windows filled the long wall of the rectangular space opposite the door. To the right, behind the head of the table, a massive fireplace with an equally impressive mantle above it occupied most of the wall. On the left was a stone surface covered in paintings, asymmetrically arranged with thin bands of grey block showing between them. The remaining area on the periphery was devoted to serving tables and cabinets.
