Call of Destiny

by P. R. Adams

  “I’m thinking we walk away. Tell her sorry about that, your kid’s dead. Keep the change.”

  “That’s one approach.” Riyun patted the pouches on his pants—spare magazines, some crude tools, a couple grenades. “But we don’t really have that option.”

  Hirvok reached into his jacket and pulled out a straw, which he slid between his teeth. “All right. What options do we have?”

  “If we ever want to work again?”

  “Dead mercs don’t work.”

  “No one says we have to die.”

  “We go in there—” Hirvok pointed the saliva-damp straw at the gate. “—we’re going to die.”

  “You’re not showing a lot of trust in them.” Riyun jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the rest of the squad. “Or in me.”

  Hirvok snorted. “Trust in you? When was the last time you made the right call?”

  Happy thoughts. Riyun tried to focus on pretty trees blowing in the wind and fluffy sheep hopping around in a meadow. He wasn’t sure if sheep hopped or not. They were too frail for Hurdist, so he’d never seen any up close, really. He was probably thinking of goats. What mattered was that he wasn’t thinking of punching the younger man’s face in. “I’m asking you what you think we should do. We can’t walk away. We can’t charge in, guns blazing.”

  “Wait—there’s something in-between those two?”

  “Thanks for the help.” Riyun set his carbine down and pulled out his tablet. “Did you look at those uniforms?”

  “On the security monkeys?”

  “Spit and polish. Gray bear in profile. That blue trim. Sky blue.”

  The younger man sucked on his straw. “You’re seeing ghosts. Kozmut’s dead to the guild.”

  “He’ll find work again.”

  “After he gets his nose fixed.”

  Riyun blushed. He wasn’t proud of losing his composure. “We’ve got some imagery of the interior of the buildings.”

  “Imagery? Well, why didn’t you say so? It’s as good as done now!”

  The imagery was mostly public relations photos, but there were also building plans and records from the construction businesses and some from individuals who weren’t averse to sharing. For a fee. Apparently, the Total Rewrite compound had seen a significant recent overhaul, and the money spent on the innovative and ambitious design had drawn a good deal of attention. The main building was only four stories high, but it was equally deep.

  Riyun pointed to a photo of a huge basement area that would have been at the eastern edge of the main building. “Who spends the kind of money it takes to deck out something like that?”

  “How much reinforcement do you think they needed to deal with, being below the water line?”

  “It’s not just that. It would’ve been sand there—part of the beach. It’s a complete re-engineering of the land.”

  “You thinking of swimming in?” Hirvok bent the straw so it looked like a snorkel, then sucked in air.

  “I’m thinking this is more than just vanity. There has to be a reason you spend all that money for a big hole like that.”

  “Didn’t Symbra say they don’t draw power like everyone expected them to?”

  “Yeah.” Riyun tried to imagine a reactor sitting in the lower reaches of the basement of the huge building occupying the center of the compound. “Did anyone search to see if he ever hired nuclear techs?”

  “It’s your team. Lieutenant.”

  Riyun spun his chair around. “Naru, can you see if there’s any official record of who works here?”

  The hacker pushed up from her seat and made her way to the front. Her face was taut. “Actually, um, I was hoping to talk to you when you had a minute.”

  “Go ahead.”

  She looked over her shoulder at Tawod. “Alone.”

  Was this part of giving her space? Riyun waved her to the hatch and followed her to a big tree, where she leaned against the trunk, arms crossed. Her eyes seemed watery, although he couldn’t imagine why. Pollen?

  Tawod stood in the hatch, at least until he was yanked back by Hirvok, who flashed a thumbs-up to Riyun.

  The lieutenant crossed his arms. “We’re alone.”

  “I need to leave.”

  “Leave? You mean go back to the hotel?”

  She sniffled. “Back to Jiven.”

  “Our job’s here. This is probably the most critical—”

  “I know. I’m sorry. It’s…my boyfriend. He hurt himself.”

  Hurt himself. What in the Hollow Hills did that even mean? “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t realize you were—”

  “We broke up. That’s why I needed this job. I thought it was over.”

  “I see.”

  “I can pay you back. It’s just… I didn’t realize we still had…” She wiped tears from cheeks that flushed darker.

  Relationships were a complication Riyun didn’t need. He could remember what it had been like with Monisa, how he would have done anything for her. “We have to be careful how we handle this.”

  “I-I know. I’m sorry. I can get the money. Eventually.”

  “It’s not the money. It’s… Okay, the money is a problem.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  She glanced past him, at the grav car and the compound beyond. “What’re you going to do?”

  “In there? Try to force this Beraga’s hand. Most people, when they’re confronted, they don’t do well hiding things.”

  “You think she’s in there?”

  “I think he knows where she is. Or at least he knows something.”

  “He’s supposed to be pretty intense. He spent his whole life proving he was…” She winced. “Better than everyone else.”

  Was that how she saw herself—better? “Even intense people break.”

  “Rumor is, he only sleeps a few hours a night.”

  “That’ll wear you down fast.”

  “He supposedly has an IQ off the charts.”

  “Smart people make mistakes, too.”

  “He built this company from—”

  Riyun held a hand up. “I get it. He’s dangerous.”

  “Maybe you should do like your sergeant said and walk away.”

  How had she heard— She was a hacker. “We can’t. He knows that.”

  She bowed her head. “Because you need the money.”

  “We screw this up with Yola Tromon, and we’re through.”

  She brushed her hair back. The neon blue really did seem to glow in the shadow of the tree. “What if I stay on? Just long enough to get what you need from Beraga?”

  “You’ve got a boyfriend who’s—”

  “I’ll tell him I’m on my way. If I tell him I’m about to meet Uzir Beraga, he’ll understand. He’s sort of a hero to both of us.”

  It sounded like a terrible idea. She was already halfway out of it. He could see that much in her eyes. “Why don’t you just give us some help with data? We need to know what sort of people might work—”

  “Everybody who’s anybody works here now. He’s got the mindshare. He’s got the money. No one can compete. It’s the worst-kept secret in both spheres that he’s bigger than any other corporation, even the old ones.”

  “Fine. But I’m looking for people who would be out of the ordinary—exceptional nuclear technicians and the like.”

  “Nuclear—?” The hacker screwed up her face. “Why would he hire nuclear technicians?”

  He showed her his tablet and tapped the image of the huge basement. “What else would he have built in that hole, if not a reactor?”

  “I don’t know. A studio? Maybe they’re shooting films down there.”

  “Just check, will you?”

  The hacker nodded. “In the grav car.”

  She followed him back inside and returned to her seat. Riyun studied the images again. There was enough room for a few reactors, really. The underground sections were actually larger than the aboveground sections. Where co
uld this company find so much money? Everything about the compound was extravagant, exquisite. The main building was mostly translucent, shifting colors during the day to maximize comfort and efficiency without sacrificing the aesthetic of the design. The materials used were cutting edge—composites and ceramics that gave the buildings greater strength and resiliency than would be expected.

  Maybe a platoon wasn’t such a bad idea. Some howitzers, some rockets—

  Hirvok tugged the straw from his mouth. “Would you look at that.”

  Riyun froze. A squirrelly little man had exited the security gate and was checking the road for traffic in both directions. “Who in the Hollow Hills is that?”

  “You got me.”

  “I—” Riyun’s tablet buzzed: A message from Naru. He had just enough time to skim it.

  Nuclear engineers, theoretical physicists, advanced biologists and geneticists. He has everyone working for him. Even Golgar Portals researchers.

  Golgar Portal researchers? What—?

  Hirvok snorted. “Unbelievable, this guy.”

  The little man wore a long jacket, which reached down to his knees. It had a square cut high collar, and the material was smooth and supple, bending gracefully with each step as he crossed the street.

  Riyun wasn’t sure whether to hide his weapon or brandish it. “He’s coming right toward us.”

  “He’s got balls, I’ll give him that.” The sergeant lowered his window as the man approached, smiling with a weaselly obsequiousness. “I already can’t stand him.”

  The little man bent forward and put his hands behind his back. The smile widened. “Good morning, gentlemen.” His head was inside the window, and he craned his neck just enough to look into the back of the vehicle. “And ladies.”

  It didn’t make sense to put their weapons away, not yet, so Riyun set his on his lap and leaned toward the squirrelly man. “How can I help you?”

  “Oh!” The little man laughed and clapped his hands. “That was my question.”

  “You want to help us?”

  “Why, yes. I was sent out here by Mr. Beraga to invite you inside.”

  “In…side?”

  “Yes. He’d like to meet you. You are here about Zabila Tromon, aren’t you?”

  How could he possibly know? But it wasn’t some wild guess—the smug smile said it all: They knew. Beraga knew.

  The only thing that made sense was to keep cool. “We’ll be bringing our weapons.” Riyun patted his gun.

  The little man’s head bobbed up and down quickly. “We wouldn’t dream of asking you to leave them. In fact, we would be disappointed if you did.” He stepped back and dramatically waved an arm toward the front gate. “Mr. Beraga is a busy man. I hope you can understand if he would like to host you as quickly as possible?”

  Of course he would. All traps began with the meeting.

  Riyun glanced back at Naru, who nodded.

  Her choice. He would have preferred leaving her behind. He stood. “Well, let’s not keep him waiting.”

  Hirvok pushed up from his seat. “Won’t need our extra ammunition—”

  “Bring everything.” Riyun pulled his backpack on.

  From the back, Lonar huffed. “The Vaseltek seems overkill—”

  “Everything. Go in prepared, or don’t go in at all.”

  “Energy bars and water, too?” The big man sighed. “Guess we could survive a siege that way.”

  A siege wasn’t likely, but with someone as dangerous as Beraga supposedly was, Riyun wanted to be ready for anything. Then again, if Beraga truly was some mad genius, was there any way to anticipate what he had in mind?

  Being alert and ready seemed their only option. Riyun had to hope that would be enough.

  12

  They marched across the street, the little man on point, followed by Hirvok and Symbra. Riyun herded the others along, eyes always scanning. He couldn’t tell whether it being a clear day was an advantage for him or Beraga’s people. The security guards in their pressed uniforms watched from behind reinforced glass. There was a challenge in their posture—rigid backs, thrust-out jaws, hands on hips—that was far too similar to Kozmut’s old unit for Riyun’s comfort.

  And then there was the gray bear emblem. Who else would use that?

  Riyun would never live down the decision to stay on with the Gryphon Brigade when Kozmut was hired. The idiot had a reputation for disruption and division, for bullying and excess. Walking away with the squad the second Kozmut showed up would have changed the course of Riyun’s life.

  And it would have cost Lonar and Quil theirs.

  No. Staying had been the right choice.

  Once past the security gate, the grandeur of the compound became even more apparent. The lawns were a lush green, immaculately trimmed and landscaped, with exotic plants and trees in small parks spread along the western half. Sunlight reflected off flower-cloaked ponds while shadow covered benches and tables. Fitness fields and tracks filled parts of the eastern lawn.

  Everything looked new and unused, even though the compound was now years old.

  Was everyone really inside? There should have been some sign of wear.

  The little man breathed in the sweetly fragrant air, then passed through the front doors and opened his arms to encompass what amounted to a huge atrium. “This is the welcome lounge. All the furniture along the walls, the stairs that lead up to the second floor over there, and the furniture you can see in the loft up there—all handmade by artisans here in Trebok and other cities on Kamiyan.”

  Riyun had to give credit to the craftsmanship while wondering about the cost. Machines made furniture, not people. “It’s all very nice.”

  “No expense was spared. Mr. Beraga believes in caring for his people.”

  But did he care about those who weren’t his people? “Is he up on the top floor?”

  “In the northeastern corner. He loves to see the sunrise.”

  And to look down on ‘his people.’ “Lead on.”

  An express elevator took them to the fourth floor, but Riyun was sure it was the little man’s security that made it possible to reach that level. The halls were a more stark and technical-looking affair than where Yola worked: Chrome trim and blue glass seemed to be the theme. There were terminals everywhere. Even the offices had the blue glass for walls, somehow managing to provide privacy despite being semi-transparent. Beraga’s office was a single, open space with a grand desk facing away from the glass wall, looking out onto the pristine beach.

  Did it give the man a daily reminder of his accomplishments? Judging from the look of complete satisfaction on his face, it must have.

  He sat behind the desk, eyes staring through the glass ceiling at something perhaps beyond the atmosphere, maybe even beyond the Golgar Portal far above. His fingers were steepled in front of his throat, energetically drumming against each other. He wore a slate gray silk jacket and aquamarine shirt. No tie. His bald head seemed almost to glow as he spoke. “Thank you. I have business to attend to, so I’ll get back to you.”

  The little man came to an abrupt stop. “Mr. Beraga, these are your visitors.”

  The mad genius stood, surprisingly short and slender. He came around the desk, hand extended. It was a hand that had never seen a hint of labor—no scars or deformities. When he smiled, his big nose became more prominent. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Molliro.”

  Riyun accepted the offered hand and tried not to squeeze. “I think I’m the one who should be thanking you, Mr. Beraga.”

  “Oh, not at all. I know you’re a busy man. Searching for Zabila, right?”

  “Zabila Tromon, yes. I’m assuming you had this conversation before.”

  The bald man glanced at all the weapons on display. “A few times. Never with people so heavily armed.” He guffawed—an unsettling laugh that shook his frame. “I hope you’ll see in no time that those weapons are completely unnecessary.”

  “Do you tell that to your security team?”

&nb
sp; That seemed to get to the owner of Total Rewrite. He loudly exhaled through his nose. “I’m afraid we have some competitors who will stop at nothing to take what I have created here. Maybe Yola told you about that?”

  “She didn’t.”

  “Just another oversight on her part. She knows. They want my creations.”

  “What have you created here, Mr. Beraga?”

  “Why, only the best entertainment anyone could ever hope to buy.” The good humor returned to the short man’s face. “But it seems inefficient to talk about it when I can show you. How about a tour?”

  Riyun cocked an eyebrow at Hirvok; the gruff mercenary nodded. The rest of the squad seemed similarly interested. “I think we’d appreciate that.” Riyun tried to at least appear relaxed.

  “Good. Good!” Beraga waved the squirrelly assistant away. “Thank you, Tonarn. I’ll call you when it’s time to escort our guests out.”

  The little man—Tonarn—bowed slightly, then scuttled out through the door. He sped to a small office at the end of the hall and disappeared once he passed through the door.

  Beraga rubbed his hands together. “All right, where would you like to start?”

  Riyun smirked. “How about the last place Zabila visited?”

  “Oh?” Rather than knocking Beraga off his guard, the request provoked a mischievous smile. “Really?”

  “Would that be a problem?”

  “A problem? No. But it would require you to sign a nondisclosure agreement, same as she did.”

  “A non-—”

  “Nondisclosure agreement. It’s common in a business like ours.”

  Hirvok grunted. “For games? You’re kidding me.”

  Riyun shook his head slightly at his second-in-command. There was no need to antagonize their host. Yet. “Would you mind telling us where Zabila is, Mr. Beraga?”

  The bald man sucked on his bottom lip. “I wish I knew. I truly do.”

  “But you know the last place she visited here?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  Hirvok took a step toward the supposed genius. “I bet you do.”

  With practiced ease, Riyun shifted between the two men. “Mr. Beraga?”

  Beraga didn’t seem bothered. He rubbed his hands together again. “You asked me what I created here, Mr. Molliro. Games. Movies. Entertainment. You’re probably not familiar with entertainment based on what I’ve heard about you, but it’s an extremely competitive endeavor.” The slender man turned to Hirvok. “You like competition, don’t you, Mr. Kofex? So long as it favors you? That’s the way the Kofex family works, isn’t it? The way most Silvers work?”