The Colossus Collection

by Nicole Grotepas

  The three of them were seated at a window that overlooked the alley below. Holly found her gaze drifting down to the people walking to and fro like they were on parade. And they were, it seemed. It was the main reason to come to All Things Analogue—to see what others were dressed in, to be seen, to be appreciated.

  Curiosity about the conflict Iain was speaking of burned in Holly’s mind. More questions swirled just behind her teeth, desperate to be freed in conversation with Iain.

  If he had indeed been a military commander in The Yol Conflict, that meant he had seen non-humanoid creatures. Sentient creatures that were every ounce as clever as the Centau, but who were banned from the Yol system where the 6-moons were found. It had been promised to the other races that only humanoids—people who had evolved to look similar, bipedal, with four limbs, hands, and faces that were remarkably similar—would inhabit the realm, making it easier to live together.

  Holly wondered what it was like to engage in anything with non-humanoids. Were they as terrible as the Centau made them out to be?

  They ordered food and the topic of piloting the tanker remained off the table. Gabe hadn’t told her whether or not he’d informed Iain of the purpose of their visit. But now she was distracted with questions about the Yol Conflict. The war had been over twenty-five Earth years ago, before Holly was alive. That put Iain just over forty, if he’d been involved as a younger man. When he became a commander, had that been something he’d done as a sort of boundary patroller? Or . . . were there still small skirmishes always happening out at the far reaches of the system? These topics were not regularly discussed. Information about them was kept out of the main view of the inhabitants of the 6-moons. Everyone was safe, always. The only threats were those who lived in the 6-moons. The monsters that fed on aether and radiation out in space were kept at bay. Everything had been done to protect the 6-moons, so no one needed to trouble themselves with concerns about it.

  It was easy to sink into complacency if one never traveled out beyond the boundaries of Ixion and the moons she kept in orbit around herself.

  “So, this job you have for me,” Iain began, sipping his kasé. “What’s the pay like?”

  Holly started, pulling her eyes from a Centau dressed in a costume like one of their homeworld native trees. “We would need to discuss it,” she said, recovering. So it was on. He knew. And she needed to be a leader. He was military. He probably didn’t respect civilians that showed weakness. “But you would be paid fairly, if not better than fair.”

  Iain dipped his head, his mouth hiding behind the three-bulbed Constie mug. “Their kasé isn’t the best, is it? Well. Everything else is.” He cleared his throat. “While better than fair sounds tempting, it needs to be more tempting to get me to leave my shop behind and go back out into the ungrateful, dark universe. I’ve gotten comfortable here.”

  Holly studied his craggy features. He was right—he looked comfortable. There was little left of what she imagined the military man had been. She wondered if it was a challenge, if what he wanted was a bit of a battle about going back out into space and taking on a command. “Apologies. I thought you would appreciate the chance to sharpen yourself up. You’re right—you do look comfortable. How long has it been since you commanded a ship?”

  In her peripheral vision, she could see Gabe watching her. She nearly blushed under his scrutiny, then told herself Fuck it. This is how I’ll run things, even if Iain doesn’t like it. He didn’t have to work for her. He was under no obligation, and so she would do it the way that came natural to her, or rather, the way she’d learned to deal with leading perfectly capable adults, rather than the children she’d spent so long teaching.

  “Seven years,” Iain said. “I don’t miss it.”

  Gabe chuckled and poured sugar into his coffee. He was unabashed about how he preferred his drink: cream and sugar, though it wasn’t the way a man’s man would do it. He stirred the drink and then took an experimental taste. He sighed. “Who would? The idea of being trapped on a ship during battle? Not my idea of a good time. There’s no backup plan.”

  Iain glanced at Gabe. He was a very serious man, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he would smile. “There are backup plans. But a commander doesn’t need a back-up plan. If you’re worth your salt, you go down with the ship. Because the idea, Gabe, is to not get blown up. Fight smart. Keep your ship safe. Destroy your enemy so that you don’t have to decide. Of course, there are escape pods. But the odds of those saving your ass are slim.”

  “Sounds like a death-wish, Old Scotch. You couldn’t pay me enough to do it.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, there’s not even a remote chance that you’d be asked to. You’re too soft,” he said, then muttered to himself, “I’m too soft.”

  Instinctively, Holly sensed that Iain wanted to take the charge. The fact that the conversation continued around the subject, not to mention the other things that he’d said, led her to feel that he wanted to be convinced.

  “You know what the work is, Scotch?” Holly asked. She sipped her own kasé and watched him to see his reaction. The same corner of his mouth that had threatened to smile, drooped down into the faintest hint of a frown.

  “I got the idea, yes.”

  “Good cause. Right?”

  “Can’t argue that. No, I can’t.”

  “I don’t want to do it this way. But I have no choice. And I need someone I can trust. I can’t tell if that’s you. I think it is, but I’m not a pilot and I’m not in the military.”

  “I haven’t commanded a ship in a while. I’ve never flown a tanker. They’re different from the military ships.”

  “So, you can’t do it?”

  Iain shook his head. “I didn’t say that. I said I’ve never flown one. I don’t know what the interface is like. And I would need a crew.”

  Holly took a breath. She hadn’t noticed that she’d been holding it. “I can find you a crew.”

  “No. I want to find my own crew. I won’t just fly a goddamn ship with a crew I don’t know, that you picked up off the streets.”

  “I picked you up off the streets.”

  “Foul,” Gabe said, laughing. “Scotch isn’t a street urchin. He’s a decorated vet. Who had all his decorations taken away.”

  “Thanks a whole hell of a lot.”

  “Tell her.” Gabe nodded toward Holly.

  Iain sighed. “If I’m going to command her ship, it seems I should.”

  So Iain told Holly the story about his refusal to engage an exploratory ship from a non-humanoid race on the edge of the solar system. He knew it would start a war. He and his crew had been out on the patrol for a long time and were due back in port for refueling. Iain saw what the ship was: a probe from a ship that was entering the Yol system and would be there soon. When he reported it to the Centau, they ordered him to destroy the probe and warn off the ship. It was from a race known as the Kukulak. Vicious, but honorable in how they conducted war and the skirmishes that they’d already engaged in. Destroying the probe would have sent a signal that they were at war. Iain told the Centau as much, and they still ordered him to destroy the ship. The idea was to keep them out of the system. Destroying the probe would bring them further into it. Iain turned his back on the probe and took his carrier back into the inner orbits. The Kukulak never entered the system, but the Centau took Iain’s command away as well as his military honors.

  “Why would you be ashamed of that?” Holly asked. “Wasn’t that the right thing to do? It sounds like you knew the enemy better than the Centau.”

  “I disobeyed a command.”

  Their server set their plates down in front of them. Gabe began to eat. He’d ordered pan-seared ichau fruit and bacon wrapped in a warm crepe with a fruit syrup drizzled over it.

  “I understand where Iain’s coming from,” he said. “He disobeyed an order. That’s got to weigh on a person. But he did the right thing.”

  Holly watched Iain begin eating. She supposed she could underst
and where he was coming from. It reminded her of the boundary she broke with Elan. If you dare to defy the rules of society or your profession or whatever role you’re placed in, then what are you? What else will you do? Can you trust yourself with more responsibility? Or have you become a rule-breaker, someone that no one should trust? If you can barely bring yourself to trust yourself, then why should you ask that anyone else trust you?

  Holly was wrapped up in her own plate of crepes sans bacon and her thoughts about the implications of breaking rules, when Iain’s lowered voice interrupted her.

  “Someone is watching us,” Iain muttered. “Act normal. Don’t look. But there’s a man hiding behind a menu four tables away. He keeps looking at us.”

  Gabe tensed beside Holly, which she felt as a soft jerking of the bench seat they shared.

  Holly spoke quietly. “Can you see if they have a tattoo on their neck?” The question was meant to tell her whether their observer was a member of the Shadow Coalition.

  Iain was quiet for a few minutes as he continued to eat and presumably act normal while also attempting to get a good look.

  “No tattoo on the neck. Standard Constie tattoo on his cheek, though.”

  “Then not an SC member,” Holly whispered for Gabe’s benefit.

  “You know, I’ll just excuse myself for a moment while I head to the bathroom.” Iain stood and walked away.

  Holly sighed. “I suppose this is how he takes care of business?”

  “He’s his own man, Holly dear,” Gabe said.

  She heard a commotion behind them and turned on the bench seat to witness Iain grabbing and restraining their supposed spy. He was a Constie like Iain had said. He looked as rough as Holly remembered from prison when she’d dealt with fights with prisoners like Korla and Jalia. She didn’t have many occasions to be around Consties these days. This one wore clothing that marked him as an average Constie—not dressed up like other visitors to the alley, which set him apart, much the way that Holly and Gabe were.

  “Who are you?” Iain growled.

  Gasps came from the other guests in the restaurant. A table of nearby Druiviin people in analogue costumes that fit with the alley rose and backed away from the disturbance.

  Gabe leapt up and flashed his badge at the other patrons as he went to Iain’s side. “Everything’s fine, people. Keep eating. I’m a law enforcement officer. Thanks Iain. Let’s get him outside.”

  Together Gabe and Iain kept the man’s arms restrained behind his back as they pushed him out the front doors. Holly took a last bite of her breakfast, left several novas on the table to cover the three meals, and followed them outside.

  As Holly trotted down the stairs and approached them on the street, she overheard Gabe questioning the man. By now Holly was used to being followed, jumped, and randomly attacked. This one was different. The man didn’t seem to be a member of the Shadow Coalition. He was being too subtle for that.

  Gabe put a set of handcuffs on the guy and then turned to Holly and spoke in a low voice meant to not carry. “This has to do with the mole. I’m found out, Holly. They know we’re onto them. This means Odeon could be in danger. Get word to him. I need to get Meg and Lucy somewhere safe. And you, watch your back. I’ve got to take him down to the precinct, but the minute I do, anyone still on the squad will know that we’re closing in on them.”

  “I understand, I think.” Holly watched Iain standing beside their catch. He kept a firm hand on the prisoner’s arms. She could see in Iain’s carriage that he took pride in what he’d done. Was he already acting like a soldier again? “Thanks for introducing me to Iain.”

  “I trust him. I think you can too, kiddo.”

  13

  “So, Holly, have you figured out the children?”

  Holly looked at her friend, confused. “Hmm? The children. What are you talking about?” She was still thinking about Iain and his crew, not to mention whether or not Gabe had gotten Meg and Lucy somewhere safe. After leaving Iain, Holly had gone to find Odeon. He wasn’t answering his mobile and wouldn’t come up on the comms, so she wasn’t sure where he was. Darius had let her know his location based on the communication hub on his system back in the Nest, and she went to find him. He’d been performing at the Glassini Bar. He was safe, and they’d left together. He was already upstairs. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  “Everything all right?” Charly sat next to her at the bar while Torden made them both cocktails with a skewer of olives and umeo nuts.

  “A lot on my mind.”

  “All right, girl. I mean, have you made a plan for getting the children once we’ve got the tanker? Who’s going to handle them?”

  Holly heard her this time. She took a long drink of the cocktail Torden slid into her hand. “Thanks Torden.” Charly’s question was innocent enough, but it troubled Holly because her thoughts went back to the place they kept going in response to the problem of the children. She knew what she needed to do, but she didn’t want to do it.

  “I’ve got us a pilot. His name is Old Scotch. He’ll get a crew. The other issues, well, we still need to figure them out.”

  “Yeah girl. Should we go upstairs and fill in the rest of the crew on it?”

  “Did Trip show up?” Holly stood and carried her drink to the stairwell. She’d just arrived. Behind them, a small jazz band played on stage while a female singer crooned lounge style. This evening was a regular club night. Guests chittered at their tables and servers meandered through the aisles taking orders and delivering food. Beneath the icicle lights, Charly’s white blazer glowed faintly blue. The place felt like a second home lately, with the surroundings as familiar as the condo she’d moved into a few weeks prior.

  “Yeah, she’s up there. Living it up, acting like she’s in some select club. I never thought I’d see a Centau care so much about a bunch of humans. And one Druiviin.” Torden overheard Charly and flashed her a look. “Yasoan. Sorry, man, you know I adore you. It has nothing to do with that.”

  Holly waved goodbye to Torden, who was shaking his head at Charly’s declaration, and she began to climb the stairs.

  “Hey, guys, what’s going down?” Charly asked as they entered the Nest.

  Darius stood at the large v-board the team used for planning sessions. He’d made a bullet list of what they needed to do. He sighed when Holly and Charly came in and ran his hands through his short black hair.

  “You OK, Darius?”

  “The logistics on this one are a bit more complicated than usual.”

  Holly read the board aloud. “‘Find a pilot.’ Got one. Check it off. His name’s Iain Grant, also known as Old Scotch. Met him today, he comes highly recommended from my ex-brother-in-law, the straight-laced Gabriel Bach. So that means he’s trustworthy, right?” Holly smiled at her team, walking over to Charly’s desk and setting her cocktail on it. She turned and leaned against the desk and looked across the room at the board.

  “Ah, Ms. Drake’s claustrophobic family member,” Shiro said, hanging his arms over his cane, which was balanced across his shoulders like a feather boa as he paced at the window that overlooked the club floor below. “I’ve had him on my tail before. He’s too dedicated for my taste.”

  “Ex-family-member, Shiro,” Holly said, laughing. “He got kicked out by my sister.”

  “But he’s Lucy’s dad, right?” Charly asked.

  “Yes,” Holly admitted.

  Shiro laughed. “Exactly. What Charly said.”

  “The point is, I trust Gabe. Iain is an ex-commander of a military ship.”

  Darius whistled between his teeth. Trip raised her hand, which struck Holly as quite incongruent coming from a noble Centau. Plus she was a successful pilot in her own right.

  “Er, Trip?” Holly called on her. “And by the way, you don’t need to raise your hand. Just say what you think.”

  “Ex-commander? Holly Drake, what do you mean by that?” Trip asked. She sat in an armchair, her posture straight, her leg crossed over t
he other, looking like the epitome of self-possession.

  “He used to be the commander on a carrier ship. He knows how to run a ship and a crew,” Holly explained.

  “And why did he leave the military?” Trip continued.

  Holly bit her lip. She sensed where this was going. Her job was all about managing the emotions of a team, it often seemed, in addition to her own. And of course someone would be annoyed if they found out that Iain had been discharged from the military. It wasn’t her story to tell, nor was it Trip’s business. If she wanted to ask Iain about it when she met him, Holly wouldn’t be able to stop her. It shouldn’t matter to Trip anyway, since the odds were that she would never have to be a passenger on a ship under his command.

  “He retired. Any more questions?” She looked around. The rest of the crew watched her and seemed to sense that she didn’t appreciate Trip’s inquisition about the pilot Holly had found to bail them out of their problem.

  “And next,” Darius said. “The key-codes. Right, Trip?”

  “That’s correct,” Trip said. “The tanker ships are locked down with a series of key-codes. One from the head pilot and the other from his or her second in command.”

  “We’ve got to get them, or else it doesn’t matter that we’ve got a pilot,” Darius said, turning to look at the board.

  “Darius and Trip, can you two be in charge of figuring out how we can obtain the codes?” Holly asked.

  “I can’t be a part of that,” Trip said. “It’s against my honor.”

  Holly sighed. “OK. Can you tell us anything else we need that isn’t against your honor? Such as, where are the codes stored? How hard will it be to get them?”

  Trip was quiet for a moment as though considering the question. Darius watched with his hands in a praying position. Shiro paused in his pacing and glanced over his shoulder at her, meanwhile Charly had taken a seat next to Odeon, who had produced a portable, small stringed instrument and was playing it softly.

  “Yes. I can tell you that,” Trip said finally. Everyone let out a collective sigh.