The Entean Saga - The Complete Saga

by C B Williams

  Max laughed. “Never say never, My Mouse. Now, take me to your office. Let me see this organizational disaster with my own eyes.”

  Chapter 4

  Max had no idea what woke him. Some sixth sense, perhaps, told him he was in danger. And when he sleepily opened his eyes, he discovered his sixth sense was correct.

  The machine hovered above him, its wings humming softly as they beat to a blurring tempo. Its curved metal body, as wide as his open palm, gleamed softly in the faint light.

  A trummer.

  An assassin’s weapon.

  Max slowly sat up, vividly aware of the sweat dampening his forehead. He watched with horror as the machine tracked his every movement, positioning itself to strike. He desperately searched his mind for some thread of a memory of anybody ever defeating a trummer. He could not recall a single one. Once they were locked onto their quarry’s DNA scent, the near-indestructible machines were impervious to reason. And reason was Max’s only mode of defense.

  Mesmerized, Max watched the hypodermic needle lower from the trummer’s abdomen. Anger surged through him as he realized these were his last few moments of life. Anger because he would never know who had done this to him. The trummer seemed to pause. What was taking so long?

  “Fuck you!” he shouted and reached for his pillow, knowing any defense was useless. He held it up and watched the trummer, in a split second, maneuver into a new position.

  Its humming grew louder.

  The door burst open.

  A knife shot out of the darkness.

  It passed so close to Max he felt the breeze of its passing. An instant later, he heard the thunk when it pinned the trummer to the wall next to his bed.

  The robotic device struggled, buzzing angrily.

  Mouse launched herself over the bed and used a second knife to slice through segments to successfully disengage the hypodermic and poison vial from the trummer’s midsection. She carefully set them on Max’s desk before she gutted the trummer, deactivating the device and leaving it to hang on the wall.

  “You okay?” she asked, apparently unaffected.

  Max nodded, unable to yank his eyes away from the thing dangling like an insect on display. “I thought they were indestructible.”

  “They are. Unless you’ve made some of your own. They’re a very effective weapon.”

  He pulled his eyes away to look at her. “I owe you my life. How’d you know that thing was in here?”

  She nodded toward the doorway where Little Brother stood, his eyes glowing softly in the dim light. “Little Brother came and got me. He’s a light sleeper, even for a sniffer. Me too. Light sleeper.”

  “Too many bad dreams?” Max raised an eyebrow then waggled a finger at the beast. “Tomorrow morning. First thing. The biggest bone I can find.” Then he buried his head in the pillow he still held in his hands, wiped the sweat from his face and cast it aside. “I don’t think I’ll be sleeping anymore tonight,” he told her as he climbed out of bed.

  “Uh, Max?”

  He glanced up at her.

  “You may want this.” she tossed him his robe.

  “Oh. Right,” he said as he thrust his arms through the sleeves and fastened the sash about his middle. “I’m going down for a drink. Care to join me?”

  “I’ll meet you down there. I want to store the trummer so I can study it in the morning. Different assassins make these differently. And,” she swept her hand down her dainty sleep shirt, “put something else on.”

  With a grunt Max turned toward the door. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take Little Brother with me.” He thrust his still-shaking hands into the pockets of his robe. Even seeing Mouse so scantily clad couldn’t quell his nerves, although he did appreciate the transparency of her garment.

  The brandy he found in the library didn’t help much either. But the burning liquid cleared his head while its warmth spread through his body. By the time Mouse joined him, he found he could lift the libation to his lips with a steady hand. He stared out into the quiet streets, the street lamps sending out warm arches of light encircling the fountain.

  Nothing stirred.

  “I think, under the circumstances, you should stand away from the window,” Mouse said quietly at his side.

  He congratulated himself for not jumping. “Good idea.” He removed himself from the window and sank into one of the overstuffed chairs in front of a dark fireplace.

  Mouse took the other chair. Little Brother lay between them, his eyes flicking back and forth between them.

  The scene reminded Max of their breakfast the day he decided to travel over the mountains to help her. But this time he wasn’t feeling so sure of his own little empire. The pompous cat had become a frightened kitten, a feeling that did not sit well. Silently he reached for the decanter Mouse had thoughtfully placed on the small circular side table between their chairs. “Drink?”

  She shook her head.

  He glanced at her and refilled his glass. She had gotten dressed. A mere shadow in the chair. “Thank you, again, Mouse.” he said and took a sip.

  She nodded. “I’ve felt something was wrong for a few days now.”

  “You thought someone was trying to kill me?”

  “No, not that.” She cocked her head. “No,” she said again. “I’ve just felt like something was off. Like I should be ready and armed.”

  “Your knack?”

  She chuckled. “I don’t have a knack. No, instinct.” She looked at him. “But I didn’t think you’d be involved in whatever was going to happen.”

  Max took a sip of his brandy. “I didn’t think I’d be either.”

  “It’s not over.”

  “I agree. It’s just begun. Only now I’m forewarned, and thus prepared.”

  “We’re prepared,” she corrected him.

  He shot her a glance over his drink. “This isn’t your fight, Mouse.”

  “That’s my choice to make.” She rose. “Would you like me to light a fire?”

  He waved his hand. “Leave it. It’s a warm night.”

  She drew the curtains, lit a single lamp, and returned to the chair.

  “Only one person knows I’m here,” Max said to his glass.

  “Ingot.” she replied with a sigh.

  He nodded. “The trummer must have been hidden with the electronic supplies we received today.”

  “But why?”

  It was his turn to sigh, and he smoothed a hand over his hair. It was trembling again. “That I do not know.” He shook his head. “But I will find out.”

  Mouse nodded, stifling a yawn with her hand.

  He smiled. “Go to bed, Mouse.”

  “But—”

  “Seriously, you need your sleep. I need to plan. I’m safe for now. We’ll reconvene in the morning.” He smiled when she protested. “Don’t argue, now. Little Brother is here with me.”

  She stood and placed a hand on his shoulder as she passed by. “I’m so sorry, Max, about Ingot,” she told him quietly.

  He grasped her hand. “Thank you, Mouse. For my life.”

  She smiled slightly, “Like you said, I’ve got the skills. Just doing what comes naturally.”

  “It’s more than that and you know it.” He held her gaze. “Thank. You. For. My. Life.” He squeezed her hand once more before releasing it.

  When she came down for her morning tea, Mouse was surprised to see Max already dressed and flirting with the kitchen staff, a mug of tea in one hand and a cinnamon bun in the other. She’d assumed he would drink himself to oblivion and sleep until noon. Shows how much I know about the man. “You look chipper,” she said, and poured herself tea.

  “I am chipper,” he said, toasting her with his mug. “The tantalizing aromas wafting in from this delightful place drew me like a bee to a flower. And these sticky rolls! They are delicious. Warm and delicious.” He took a hearty bite.

  “Good morning everybody,” she said to the staff. As usual, some spoke and others merely nodded, focused on their d
uties. She plucked a roll from the laden plate at Max’s elbow and brought it to her nose to inhale the buttery, yeasty smells. “Mmm,” she hummed, and closed her eyes. “Nothing better than warm cinnamon buns.” She opened her eyes and caught Max’s gaze locked on her face. It made her think all sorts of thoughts better left un-thought. She looked away and took a bite.

  “I was told by the lovely Rosy, here, the secret is the vanilla they mix in with the batter,” Max said.

  Mouse lifted a brow. “You don’t say?”

  “I do say,” He put the last of his roll into his mouth and reached for another. “We should retire to your office. With Skip starting tomorrow, it’s a big day today. Lots to plan.” He stood. “Ladies, it’s been delightful. Such a lovely way to begin my day. Must do this again soon.”

  Rosy blushed and snatched up the plate of remaining rolls. “Why don’t you take the plate with you?”

  “Good idea,” Mouse said, catching the eye of a kitchen waiter. “And I’ll bring a pot of tea.” She waited for the staff member to prepare a full pot of tea while Max continued to flirt with Rosy. He seemed oblivious to anything but Rosy and her large breasts. She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be in my office. Join me when you’re ready.”

  As she exited, she heard Max request a large, juicy bone for Little Brother.

  “I’ve angered you,” Max said. He set down the plate and his mug. “Stop scowling. Whatever I did, I apologize.”

  He unwrapped the bone, more like a haunch of meat, and turned to Little Brother, who was lying at Mouse’s feet, ears perked, nostrils distended with interest. “This is for you, as promised, with my gratitude.” He held out the haunch. “I selected it myself,” he added.

  Little Brother rose and accepted the offering with dignified enthusiasm. The haunch firmly in his jaws, he took himself to a corner and began to enjoy his gift while he purred his pleasure.

  Max cocked a brow at Mouse. “I think he likes it.”

  She laughed. “I think so, too.” She waited for Max to sit by her in front of her large desk, which was already much neater than it had ever been before.

  “I can actually see a desk now.” Max nodded and ran a palm over its surface before he snagged another bun. “Ready to turn it over to Skip?”

  “I will be.” She reached into her tunic pocket and pulled out the remains of the trummer. “But I’d rather talk about this.”

  Max set the bun down. “Funny, I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “I looked at it this morning. I know who made it.”

  “The assassin?”

  She nodded.

  “Who?”

  “Me.”

  Max froze, a distinctly uncomfortable feeling inching its way up his spine. “You. But—”

  Mouse smirked. “If I wanted you dead, Max, I wouldn’t have saved your life. Besides, there are easier ways to kill somebody. When I quit, I gave all of my...” she paused, searching for the words.

  “Tools of the trade?”

  “Exactly. Tools of the trade. I gave them all to another in the business. Ingot must have hired him.”

  “I’m not entirely sure it was Ingot.”

  She blinked. “But who else could it have been?”

  “Oh, it was Ingot, but I think he was manipulated.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I thought about this for a long time last night. I’ve known Ingot for years. Years, Mouse, and people don’t change. Fundamentally, they are exactly who they were when they burst forth from the womb. Life can change them, make them bitter or satisfied, but they’re still who they are underneath. And underneath, Ingot is nothing if not loyal. No, he’s been played. There’s someone else behind this. A mastermind.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I just said. Fundamentally, Ingot is loyal to a fault. I would trust him with my life.” He glanced at her when she snorted. “I would. I do. Even now. Lately, Ingot has not been himself. He has been looking...disturbed? Concerned? Frightened?”

  Max waved his hand. “Doesn’t matter. Ingot hasn’t been himself, and I didn’t think about it, the sidelong glances he was giving me, the hurt looks when he thought I didn’t see him. I chose to overlook them. Now, obviously, I know I should have confronted him.”

  “What are you going to do?” Mouse said, after she considered his words.

  “Keep silent, let Ingot think he succeeded, and help you get Skip established.” He cocked his head at her. “I suppose you should contact Ingot and report my demise. Then, after Skip has settled in, I’ll return home and confront Ingot, as I should have when I first noticed his behavioral change. Foolish me became complacent, a fat cat.”

  “Why be mad at yourself? You trust Ingot. You just said he’s loyal to a fault.”

  “I do trust him. But I must never become complacent again, or I’ll never live to see my eyebrows turn bushy and white. I rather liked them. Made me look harmless.” He reached for the cinnamon bun. “And I should put the remainder of these out of my reach, too,” he said and took a bite. “I never minded the bushy brows. But the paunch?” He slapped his tight belly, “I’m keeping this.”

  Mouse helped herself from the plate and then moved it far from Max’s grasp. “I’m coming with you.” she took a bite. “Mmm. Still warm.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Make that sound. It’s...disturbing.”

  Mouse suddenly felt lighter, and a little flicker of happiness warmed her belly. She laughed. “Deal with it.” She took another bite and chewed carefully, exaggerating her pleasure until she got Max to smile. “You need a bodyguard, Max. I’m going with you.”

  He sighed. “I’m not going to argue with you, but I wish you wouldn’t.”

  “Why? I’m the perfect person. I’m an assassin, and you trust me.”

  “Retired assassin. I’ve used you enough in the past, Mouse, and I see how unfair it has been. So, thank you, but no thank you.”

  She scowled. “I’m going with you,” she said quietly, fiercely. “People would be most unhappy with me if I didn’t.”

  He cocked a brow. “People?”

  “Yes. People. Wren, Flick, probably even Eloch. They chose you to govern the UpperUppers. If I allowed you to get killed...” she lifted her hands, palms up. “Unhappiness would follow.”

  He barked out a laugh. “You sounded like Wren just then.”

  “Yeah? Well, she trained me.” She crossed her arms.

  He threw up his hands then let them drop into his lap. “Okay, then. To prevent ensuing unhappiness, you may be my bodyguard.”

  “All right, then.”

  “All right.”

  “It’s decided.”

  “It’s decided.”

  “Good. I’m going to contact my colleague and confirm that Ingot hired him.”

  “Tell him he succeeded.”

  She nodded. “I plan to. That way he won’t try something else.”

  He rubbed his chin. “It’ll also give us some time to devise a scheme. I may have to go back to The City in disguise.” He grinned at the notion. “I’ve never worn a disguise.”

  “As your bodyguard, it’s what I’d advise. I’d also advise getting our Champion of Spur involved.”

  “I’d rather not, Mouse. This is my livelihood, not just my life. I want to find out who’s trying to take over my networks, my empire. If I can’t put a stop to it? Then, perhaps, we’ll call on Flick. But only as a last resort. He’s got enough on his plate.”

  “Truth to that. Since they most likely think you’re dead, we can take the time to find out more. Flick needs to know, though.”

  “When he shows up next, I promise we’ll tell Flick.”

  She nodded. “How come you think it’s your empire that’s being attacked and not someone trying to take over governing The City?”

  He shrugged. “Because I do it so well?”

  She snorted. “Be serious, Max.”

  “Simply put
, I have been endorsed by Spur. Do you wish me to elaborate?”

  “Nope, I get it. No one would want to go against Spur.” She licked the sugar off her fingers. “And now I need you to help me get ready for Skip. Teach me what I need to know about all this equipment I see around me that’s supposed to make our lives easier.”

  She glanced over at Little Brother. “At least he won’t be badgering us to take him outside anytime soon.”

  Chapter 5

  Mouse told Little Brother to keep watch and closed the door to her office, or, rather, the office she now shared with Skip. She sat down at the desk with its tidily arranged array of communication devices and swiveled her chair to face the interstellar vid screen. With hesitant fingers she typed in the code for the huge, modular, interstellar colonizing ship that Eloch and Wren had christened The Valiant. Wren, Eloch, and the rest had been living in her, getting used to their surroundings.

  Knowing how long the crew was going to be living within the confines of the ship, Mouse would have lived planetside for as long as possible. The idea of traveling like that, speeding through space in the dark, made her think of SubCity. Like Flick, she wasn’t even close to being tempted to leave Spur.

  Ever.

  Mouse wished to talk to Wren in the Narrows, their code for a private talk. She’d been trying all week, but with one thing or another, she never found a time when she was alone that coordinated with Wren’s availability. As she activated the connection, she hoped today she’d be lucky. She could use a good conversation with her best friend.

  After a few moments, the call went through and she found herself staring into Spider’s eyes. She had hoped it would be Aiko or Genji. But when she saw him, much to her surprise, the bitter feeling had all but disappeared. It pleased her.

  “Mouse.”

  “Spider.” He looked good, his thin face more angular, contrasting sharply with his full mouth. Older, too, she thought, more sure of himself. He’d always given off that air, but when she got to know him intimately, she’d discovered the Spider underneath his carefully constructed persona wasn’t the cool customer he wanted people to think he was. He’d cut his hair, she noticed, its thick waviness nearly tamed. He looked good, she thought again. “Patch me over to Wren, will you? If she’s not busy.”