by Clara Woods
“No guns out in the open. Those were the instructions.”
“Someone is hiding,” one of the pirates said.
“Then take care of it, but don’t walk around with your guns drawn. This is a noble house, not a pirate den. And hurry and finish your business. Mr. Callo won’t be pleased.”
The two grumbled something, but stored away their guns before vanishing through the other door. Marcus stayed a few moments longer, seeming to stare right in the direction of their statue. Lenah’s heart thundered, and sweat broke out all over her body.
As the moments stretched and Marcus didn’t call them out, Lenah started to relax a notch. It was dark in their corner, and they should be well hidden in the shadows for someone as far away as Marcus.
She waited, and thoughts started to topple into her mind. What was going on? This exchange hadn’t gone at all as expected. Marcus was the leader of the house guard and was supposed to attack and arrest the pirates, not give them instructions.
Something was wrong, that much was for sure. Marcus had mentioned her father, which meant that he was also involved in whatever was happening. That wasn’t a total surprise anymore, not since Lenah had overheard that conversation about test subjects passing away in the mage farm’s laboratories, and a backup coming. When she’d confronted him, her father had ridiculed her.
After a few more seconds, Marcus turned and vanished through the same door.
Lenah didn’t hesitate. The moment the door closed behind him, she barged out into the corridor, running at full speed toward the closest door in the other direction—a servant’s entrance she hadn’t taken in years. The gladiator followed closely behind, no doubt as eager as Lenah to get away from corridors frequented by people with guns.
Lenah was almost expecting to be shot from behind, but they made it safely behind the door.
Once she made sure they were alone, Lenah took a deep breath, giving into her body’s violent shaking. “Bloody galaxy, what the stars just happened?”
The gladiator gave her a sympathetic pat on the arm. “Don’t worry.” Her voice was pleasantly deep but also slurry. “People dressed up like that can be really scary. I got scared too.”
Lenah turned to face her. “Dressed up? Oh, no, no. Didn’t you see they had real pistols? And no reason to act out some roles in a deserted corridor.”
“Mmmh.” The woman seemed to process that. “That’s…right…”
“Yeah, right,” Lenah echoed. She was starting to think more clearly now. She had a choice to make. Either she confronted what was going on in the house, probably not getting an answer, or she could hurry and try to make her appointment in Port Dumas. It felt wrong to leave the house when something bad was clearly happening, but this just might be her best chance to shed some light into the dark about what was going on. First her father’s secret meetings, then talks about dead test subjects, and now Kahoot the Hairless toting guns around in her corridor. And through all of this, her father pretended nothing was amiss. If she didn’t want to confront Kahoot himself, there was only one logical next step.
“Okay, Port Dumas it is,” she murmured. At least she was a little less shaken now that she had a clear goal in mind.
2 The Star Rambler
Lenah and the gladiator walked briskly through the dim hall. As it was a servant’s corridor, this one wasn’t decorated with statues and paintings. Instead, naked stone emanated a constant coldness. Lenah stretched out a hand, letting it glide over the green schist bricks like she had countless times before, growing up here and sneaking through the corridors to avoid bedtime. She’d usually taken another way to the hangar where her father stored his ships, and wasn’t particularly familiar with this passageway that connected to the gardens, but the feeling of the stone calmed her nonetheless.
“Aren’t you the owner’s daughter? What are you doing here, sneaking around in the corridors? You have a lover?” the gladiator asked.
For a woman with her level of intoxication, she certainly could still ask a lot of questions. Lenah’s mind was spinning from the earlier encounter, and talking to a drunken woman was last on her list of things to do right now. She struggled to understand what she’d just seen, and she wished she could get rid of the woman, preferably without anyone noticing, so she could continue her mission. Maybe she could leave the gladiator behind once she reached the parking lot; call her a cab, and sneak into the ship she’d been preparing over the past months.
Tonight was the culmination of months of planning, but so far, nothing had gone as intended. Stars, and she hadn’t even left the house yet.
Lenah could only hope that the hobby hacker she’d hired to get her fingerprints coded into the pilot registry of the ship belonging to overnight guests had indeed managed to do so. But first she needed to get there, and quickly. A glance at her wristpiece confirmed that she was already running late. The meeting in Port Dumas was in less than two hours, and Lenah wasn’t even close to the parking lot. She’d have to make her way through the gardens and then back through the courtyard to make it there.
“Or are you too fancy to talk with someone the likes of me?” the gladiator huffed next to her, bringing Lenah’s attention back to her.
“For someone this drunk, you surely talk a lot,” she finally murmured, realizing the woman next to her was still looking at her expectantly. Maybe being rude would keep her from asking any more questions.
“I’m not talking, I’m inquiring.”
“Ahuh.”
“So, are you?”
“What? Too fancy to talk to you? Yeah, sure, just look at you.”
Lenah inwardly winced at her own words. Even though she’d meant to offend the gladiator, that still hadn’t come out well. Lenah knew that she had been born privileged, and was grateful for it. But that didn’t mean she had to share the opinion of many members of the families who thought themselves better humans based on the sole circumstance of birth. If anything, Lenah had found that many of the servants and other common-borns working in the mansion seemed to have a stronger sense of what was just than her own relatives or friends. Befriending someone higher up the social ladder or taking whatever action was best to make more profit was an accepted practice among members of the families, as long as it didn’t involve anything illegal, of course. But those kinds of friendships had always felt empty to Lenah, and her work always left her with a pang of guilt that she couldn’t explain. She knew that any sane person would use her talents at influencing people to grow their business, just as her father did, but somehow it didn’t feel entirely right. She was probably being stupid about it, though. Making the best out of what you had was human nature, and there was simply no fighting against that.
“You have a lover? Or secrets?”
“If I had any of that, I certainly wouldn’t share that information with you,” Lenah muttered, hoping to shut her up. She was still nervous about those two thugs sneaking around the corridors, and was trying hard to listen for any noises of approaching footsteps.
Then again, surely the two men were simply worried that someone would interfere with them stealing from the exhibition. That still seemed the only possible reason why they were sneaking in and out of the house. Even though her father’s involvement was worrisome, the men didn’t know who she was, or that it had been her in the corridor. They’d most likely already gone back to the exhibition room, engaging in their criminal business. Yes, that made sense.
“You could share whatever you want with me. It’s not like I know anyone any longer,” the gladiator said, her tone having gone from drunken cheerful to defeated.
Lenah looked at her curiously. She would think this woman had a great job: action, fame, pretty parties, and many good-looking male gladiators.
“I don’t have a job anymore,” the gladiator said, as if Lenah had been waiting for an explanation. “Maybe I should hire on with those costume artists…”
“Once again, those weren’t costumes. I need you to concentrate. There might
still be two people looking for us. Do you understand that?”
“Sure, sure.” The woman nodded, but Lenah doubted she’d grasped the meaning. For her, this all seemed like a game. Was this woman thinking Lenah had time for some costume game?
“I just mean,” she said as they continued walking, “I need a job. I’m going to be ruined otherwise. All this training for nothing.” She patted her hammer. “You wouldn’t know about anything, would you?”
When Lenah, who was still listening hard, didn’t answer, she stopped, looking at her with her big eyes wide open. “You don’t need a gladiator, do you, Miss Callo? Or a security guard? I can fight, I could be useful.”
Lenah shouldn’t be surprised that this woman knew who she was, but she groaned to be addressed by her last name. It reminded her too much of her work and the corporation. “Please, call me Lenah,” she said when the woman kept looking at her. “I don’t have work for you. I’m sorry.”
The gladiator seemed to have expected this answer, because she just shrugged. “I’m Persia. It’s not like I expected someone like you to be helpful. You know, someone rich. Living in a mansion. Never having a single worry in her life.”
Lenah let out a small laugh. “Oh, trust me, I have worries.”
Big ones, actually, she thought. Such as rumored deaths and criminals in the house, or spying on my father’s business.
“Right, like meeting your lover here somewhere?”
Lenah snorted. “Let me see. If I had a lover waiting for me, I wouldn’t be hiding in a corridor with some drunk-hammered acrobat.” Besides, after the debacle with Mason, the last thing she wanted was another boyfriend leering at her family status.
“I knew it. You’re judging me.”
Lenah almost howled her frustration. Should she try to suggest to this woman’s mind to walk quietly next to her? She reached out with her talent, but once more, the only thing happening was the headache flaring up behind her temple. Why did she have to run into a dangerous situation with a drunken talker the moment something was off with her abilities? Lenah refused to even think that her abilities might be gone for some reason. It wasn’t like she knew where they came from, or why only she had them. Despite having tried to find out more, none of her searches had ever turned up anything. What if the ability was some kind of storage vault that didn’t reproduce, and now her reserve was simply all used up? She’d come to rely heavily on it to get out of trouble, stars, she was embarking on tonight’s adventure because she’d trusted that she could keep herself out of trouble.
Lenah hadn’t even left her house, and already she didn’t know what to do. Briefly, the idea of abandoning her mission and going to her bedroom flew into her mind, but then she remembered Marcus conspiring with the smugglers, which implied that her father knew about it too. No, she needed to get information, and she surely wouldn’t get it around here, if the confrontation with her father about the dead lab subject was any indication. He had laughed at her and told her that she had too much imagination, before sending her into the next investor meeting.
“Heck, I’m judging myself,” the gladiator continued, unaware of the dark direction of Lenah’s thoughts. “How could I be so stupid and trust in that arrogant ass? He promised me a movie career, and I gave up everything, even my apartment, to be able to afford the ticket to come here. He’d already found someone younger and prettier for my role. Of course. And for his bedroom too… I guess the mistake is on me, but I got back at him. He’ll be paying for my ticket home to Galtaca and my new apartment, without me having to work at these stupid gladiator gigs.”
Lenah looked over at her. “You stole money from your boss?” This situation kept getting more complicated, but then she became distracted by the noise of a nearby door squeaking.
“No, I wouldn’t steal money,” Persia answered, apparently unaware of the noise that had alerted Lenah.
“Shh,” Lenah hissed as Persia’s hand went into her mini-skirt’s pocket, where Lenah could see something round bulging. It was a wonder that the tight corset and leather skirt combo even had a pocket, clearly designed to showcase the gladiator’s curves while viewers were watching her fight. But whatever she had in that pocket didn’t look like a stack of units, and the way she’d seemed offended by the idea of stealing money, Lenah felt inclined to believe her. Not that that was important at all, should the thugs have followed them all the way into this wing.
They were almost at the end of the last corridor before the gardens. It ended in a thick wooden door that would lead them to the arcade, a roofed walkway ornamented with columns that surrounded the garden. From there, they’d be able to sneak back to the main wing and right to the parking lot without being noticed, or so Lenah hoped. Everyone, including most of the servants, should still be at the feast.
With a loud screech, the door before them opened, and the two thugs from earlier stepped through.
“Shit,” Lenah said, turning around.
They could hide in the ancient servants’ quarters, which she knew were windowless. Running back through the long corridor and turning their backs to the smugglers with their lasers wasn’t an appealing option, though, meaning they were trapped. A door that stood slightly ajar caught Lenah’s attention.
The gardener’s tool shed. It didn’t lead anywhere, but maybe she could find a weapon, or hide behind some old stone flowerpot.
The smugglers’ hands went for their gun belts, so she didn’t hesitate. She bolted for the door with Persia right behind her.
Once inside the room, dim lights automatically turned on, revealing what Lenah had been expecting: a shelf full of fertilizer, pots, gloves, and a row of gardening tools lining the back wall. She saw a spade she could use to defend herself when her eye caught the glint of an ax, rusty and crude-looking, lying in the back corner. She ran for it while Persia guarded the door, her gladiator’s hammer drawn.
Rapid footsteps were approaching.
Lenah made it back to the door in record time, and they both took positions on either side. Worry that she’d made the wrong decision by not calling for help crept into Lenah’s mind, and she had to fight hard to shove it back and concentrate. Too late for that now.
Why hadn’t she tried to at least lock the door behind them? She glanced at the rusty lock that hung off the old wood. It wouldn’t have helped anyway.
Slowly, the door swung open a few centimeters. Persia pressed herself to the wall, clearly trying to avoid any incoming laser blasts, which didn’t come. Instead, the door suddenly flew open, almost crushing Lenah behind it. Lenah felt like a newbie, which she was, but she definitely hadn’t anticipated that. She was able to block the impact with her boot at the last moment. As quickly as she could, Lenah stepped around the door, where the fight was already going on. The two were big men, and looked even grimier up close. Long braids hung down their backs, but at least they hadn’t pulled their lasers again. It seemed Marcus’s warning had left an impression on them. They were now armed with long knives, both of them going for Persia, who was swinging her hammer around swiftly, trying to keep them at bay. Lenah charged toward the fight, bringing her ax around by the handle end and going for one of the thugs’ head. He grunted, turning from the fight with Persia and locking his attention onto Lenah. She was swinging again, but the angle was awkward, the tool not meant to be used by its back end after all. Her second assault only connected weakly with the side of his head, while he swung his knife at her belly. Lenah stepped back and promptly connected with the fertilizer shelf behind her. Several bags fell while she tried to regain her balance, the ax still stretched out in front of her. It might be time to switch to the real end. She didn’t want to hurt anyone, but what choice did she have?
She regretted her hesitation a moment later when the man closed the distance between them, knife still pointed. Mid-motion, Lenah brought her ax up, aiming for his forearm. He screamed at the impact, dropping his knife, but that only gave her brief breathing room. She hadn’t really injured him much
. He recovered quickly, opting to overwhelm her with his body weight now. One strong arm wrapped around her, and he pressed her own arm with the ax down on her side. She wriggled against it, but her hand was trapped.
She turned her head, trying to get away, and got a glimpse of the fight next to her. Persia was grappling with the other thug, still swinging her hammer. Looked like that weapon wasn’t just for show, because at least she hadn’t gotten trapped.
As carefully as she could, so the thug wouldn’t notice, Lenah moved her free arm behind and around her body. When Marcus had given her fighting lessons, he’d always pointed out her flexibility as her greatest asset, given she wasn’t blessed with a big body or a lot of strength. Even so, she’d only get one chance at surprising the thug. Pretending an attempt to free herself from his grip, she shifted her body and grabbed the ax she still held with her free hand. Her struggle sent them both stumbling, as he was trying awkwardly to get hold of the pistol in his belt with his injured hand. Lenah recovered in time to give him another hit in the head with the handle of her weapon, which finally caused him to let go of her when it crashed into his nose. She delivered a second and a third blow. That sent him to the ground.
Lenah spun around to help Persia, but the second man was already sprawled on the floor. The gladiator was grinning widely at Lenah, but Lenah didn’t share the feeling.
“Is he dead?” she shrieked in a voice she could barely recognize as her own.
“Nah, just going to have a really bad headache for the rest of the month or so,” Persia said to Lenah’s relief.
Slowly, her brain started working again. What now? Push on, or call for help? Not like they still needed it.