Tangled Web

by Kira Bacal

Tangled Web

  Kira Bacal

  Copyright 2012 Kira Bacal

  License Notes

  I hate the ocean. Endless, rolling waves. Eternally churning surface. It’s the perfect metaphor for a restless, troubled soul. Poets have sung paeans to it for countless ages. Heroic types have struggled to master it. Optimists have tried to harness its power. It’s been the cradle of evolution and the cesspool of civilizations. Its color changes constantly: stormy grey, wind-whipped white, crystal blue, blood red at sunset. The despondent have drowned themselves in it. Artists have immortalized it. Romantics have swooned before it.

  Personally, I can’t stand it. So naturally, I ended up on Mayim.

  If you’ve never heard of it, you’ve lots of company. It’s a small planet with an atmosphere capable of sustaining most humanoid life, but without a single nonsubmerged land mass to mar its surface. Twin moons create savage tides while its proximity to the system’s dim red sun ensures a tropical climate. It would be a vacationer’s paradise if it weren’t buried in a backwater system days from the nearest major intersystem route. So instead it became our hideout.

  As lairs went, it was adequate: hidden, quiet, out of the way, livable. The last place I’d gone to ground had been a rocky asteroid with a trace ammonia atmosphere. By comparison, this place was Eden, just wet. Besides, regardless of my personal tastes, I wasn’t about to voice my displeasure. Galactic crime lords take a dim view of whiny associates.

  I work for Sslissim. Him, you’ve heard of. Not me; I’m merely a faceless lieutenant in his organization. But after three years, I’d risen to the position of head of operations. It wasn’t difficult, given the short life span in our business. More than one of my superiors had discovered that being between me and a promotion diminished his or her life expectancy still further, and after that, my rise was even more rapid.

  All of which had conspired to land me on Mayim, sitting in our floating base while we waited for the hubbub caused by our latest project – the bloody assassination of an interstellar shipping magnate and the kidnapping of his heir – to die down. Sslissim himself had chosen our hideout, and since wherever he went, I went, I was gazing gloomily out at the roiling waves and dreaming of the flat, unmoving desert landscapes with which I’d grown up.

  “Torin!” A furry head poked into the room. “Time to check the investment.”

  I left Scylla’s presence without regret and fell into step alongside Nyikit, one of the felinoid Leoans. “Any change in the condition?”

  “He’s awake now. Drugs wore off.” Nyikit eyed me. “What’s Sslissim figure the take on this will be?”

  We’d had too few large payoffs of late; people were eager for something big. “Enough. He’s demanding the ransom in Antarean Joy Dust, figured at wholesale value. When we resell it to the addicts, we’ll double that value for markup.”

  “Brilliant! When’s the money due?”

  “The last details were worked out at yesterday’s meeting. He gave them less than a week to raise and deliver it to our bankers.” I left out the rest of what Sslissim had told me: how on his return trip he’d barely evaded a Fleet ambush two sectors away. He’d lost them in a nearby nebula after a brief firefight, but it had been a close thing.

  By then we’d arrived at the secure hold. Nyikit drew his stunner and trained it at the door.

  I looked at him. “Aren’t you being a bit overcautious for a half-grown, half-drugged cub?”

  He hissed. “He is still a Leoan.”

  I shook my head and deactivated the forcefield.

  The door opened and a shrieking wildcat hurtled towards us, claws extended and eyes glowing red.

  Nyikit screamed a reply and raised his stunner, but I shoved him aside and tripped the kid as he lunged past me. Unsurprisingly, he’d decided to ignore me, puny Terran that I am, and go for his fellow Leoan. More than one person, older and wiser, had made the same mistake and suffered similarly.

  Actually, I’m large for a Terran, and it was simple for me to reach down, yank the kid up, and toss him back into his cell. He hit the far wall and slid down it, landing with a gulp and wide eyes as he reassessed the situation.

  I watched him, curious to see his next move. If he were smart, he’d try to learn all he could from us. If not, Nyikit still had his stungun.

  “Where am I?” the cub demanded. “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “You’re our hostage. That’s all you need to know.”

  “But why? Why kidnap me?” He paused, figuring it out. “You expect my father to pay you? He won’t! He won’t deal with Thrumsnarfing scum like you!”

  Nyikit’s temper, never quiescent long, flared at the slur. “You’re right. He won’t because he’s dead. We killed him when we snatched you.”

  The kid was staggered by the news, but he recovered well. “I shouldn’t be surprised. A creature like yourself has no honor – you likely struck from afar. What did you use? A bomb or a missile, you cowardly sindith?”

  That was about the worst insult you could level at a Leoan, so I was prepared for Nyikit’s reaction.

  “Your challenge is met!” he screamed, unsheathing his claws and leaping.

  I bodychecked him in midair and by the time he regained his feet, I was between them, my pistol pointed at his head. “This kid’s more valuable than you, Nyikit. Don’t try it again.”

  He snarled at me, fur spiky with rage. “He impugned my honor!”

  “You have no honor,” I retorted. “You turned renegade before he was born.”

  Nyikit screeched in frustration and defeat, but he reluctantly sheathed his claws. “I will not forget, young one,” he hissed, “and I will ensure that your death is unpleasant.”

  “Shut up, Nyikit. And you,” I turned to the cub. He backed up involuntarily as the pistol was trained on him. “If you turn out to be too much trouble, Nyikit will become more valuable than you, and I’ll give you to him as a plaything. Got it?”

  “Brave words from a dastard with a plasma weapon,” he shot back.

  Nyikit snorted, tickled now that the cub’s venom was vented at me.

  “Mind your language, kid, or I’ll notch your ears,” I warned. The threat was a standard discipline among Leoan parents; in the current context it was a reminder of the kid’s vulnerable state and his father’s recent demise. Predictably, he took offense.

  “Bald, stupid primate!” he spat. “You hide behind your weapon because your fears threaten to engulf you!”

  I holstered the gun, thinking I might have been too generous in my earlier estimation of the kid’s intelligence. “Don’t be stupid. Surely you know Alteya’s precept: ‘Only a fool rushes against greater odds’.”

  My quoting the Leoan empress’ wisdom to him was the final insult. He lunged at me, claws out.

  I blocked his strike, then trapped his extended arms underneath my own. I clouted him across the head with my free hand, hard enough to daze, then spun him around so he was pinned against me, facing Nyikit.

  Even my confederate was stunned by the speed with which I’d disabled the cub. I reached behind me and drew my energy blade from its sheath at the small of my back. After waiting until the kid had recovered enough to be aware of what I was doing, I activated the knife. Nyikit let out a yelp of surprise or amusement, I wasn’t sure which, nor did I care.

  “I warned you,” I reminded the cub.

  “No! Don’t—“ His words ended in a cry of pain as my knife sliced a notch in his right ear.

  I shoved him away, back into the cell, and switched off the knife. “Next time you’re that stupid, you’ll end up a lot worse,” I told him, as expressionless as ever. He stood rigid, forcing himself to muffle his whimpers. He
wouldn’t show pain in front of his enemies. The kid had potential.

  “Throw him some ration bars,” I ordered Nyikit, who obeyed with alacrity. “The energy blade cauterized the wound. Leave it alone or it’ll scar even worse. We need you in good shape. If we end up sending you back to your family in pieces, I want them recognizable.”

  On that note, I resealed him into his cell. The hatch slid shut on his stricken countenance. Nyikit regarded me with awe. “You are one vicious sindith,” he breathed. “At least I was mad at him. You don’t even care.”

  I just looked at him. “Why would I care?’

  It was just then that the proximity alarms sounded. I raced to the command center in time to find Sslissim and Scylla tracking the eetie. “What is it?” I demanded, taking the binox from her and spinning to scan the skies.

  “Grid four,” my boss rumbled, his lidless eyes studying the monitor. I turned the binox to the appropriate area while Scylla, Nyikit, and the rest of the crew tried to triangulate the exact position.

  “I see it.” My words brought a sudden silence to the hum of activity.

  “Well?” Sslissim demanded. I could feel his rough, scaly skin as he dropped an impatient paw heavily on my shoulder.

  “It’s an escape pod. Fleet issue.” I adjusted the binox magnification. “Looks like it was in an explosion or maybe a battle.” I glanced at Sslissim, who nodded slowly. Maybe he’d done more damage in that skirmish than he’d realized.

  “It’s coming down about two klicks past our perimeter. No sign of any more.”

  “Want me to take a shuttle and blast it?” Scylla volunteered.

  “Make it quick,” I snapped. “If that thing’s emergency beacon goes off, we’ll have half the Fleet down on us. I’ve got our jamming field on, but it’ll only last so long.”

  “Yes, do it,” Sslissim ordered.

  As Scylla ran from the room, I called after her. “Make sure you vaporize any survivors. The information they could give us isn’t worth the risk.”

  “Hold.” Sslissim’s word stopped Scylla in her tracks. He turned to me. “What information?”

  I shrugged. “State of the investigation, location of patrols, mindset of the authorities… Why? We’re not going to risk having a Fleet flit on the base.”

  “I see no risk,” Sslissim stated flatly. “We interrogate them, then kill them. What risk is there in that?”

  “You can’t trust the Fleet. Their people are well-trained and inventive. Blast them from above – it’s the only way to be sure of our safety. Once they get in here, this operation is doomed.”

  “Your pessimism would cost us valuable intelligence, and information is wealth. Scylla. Destroy the pod, but only after you have captured any survivors. You, you, you – go with her.”

  “Where will you put them?” I demanded. “Our only secure hold contains the Leoan heir. How do you expect to ensure base security?”

  “I expect you to do it.” His green gaze locked with mine. “And to carry out the interrogation. And I expect you to do a better job than you did the last time, with that undercover agent from Antares.”

  “His anatomy was unusual,’ I reminded him through clenched teeth. “It’s hardly my fault that Antareans can tolerate so little blood loss.”

  Sslissim held up a hand in command and warning. “No excuses. Just results.”

  I strode away before I said something dangerous. The rest of the team avoided my eye. Public disagreements between Sslissim and myself were rare, but they knew better than to comment.