Smuggler Queen

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Smuggler Queen Page 17

by Tim C. Taylor


  Enjoy all you like, Green Fish thought to herself. I’m not done here. The boss will get me out. Then you’ll get what’s coming to you.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 29: Izza Zan Fey

  Sunken Garden, Nyluga-Ree’s Sanctuary

  Side-by-side, Nyluga-Ree and her prodigal daughter strolled the perimeter of the sunken garden at the rear of the Sanctuary compound.

  The only sounds were the crunch of snow under their boots, the wind blowing along the base of the Raighgors Mountains, and the gentle charge pack whine from the guards on overwatch.

  When she’d first come into the Glaenwi’s employ, Izza had struggled to match her rangy gait with that of her stubby-limbed mistress, but the habit returned with ease.

  The trick was to resist the temptation to match cadence. The Nyluga might have a tiny stride length, but she had the stride rate of a champion sprinter. She was always strong and could be fast when she wanted to be.

  Despite the circumstances, Izza found herself relaxing into the old routines.

  Then she stopped herself.

  This was no longer her home. And she wasn’t safe.

  The tips of her ears burned with cold. She wanted to pull up her insulated hood, but she preferred not to dampen her hearing.

  She had to stay alert. Though for what? She couldn’t say. The principle was enough.

  Nyluga-Ree was difficult to read and often unpredictable. It was one of the reasons she was feared, but another part of her deadly reputation came from something predictable: crossing her brought dire consequences.

  Izza had agonized that she would get herself and her crew killed in support of Fitz’s adventure, but it looked like they would come through this escapade victorious. Not only were they all still alive, but Ree was so troubled, she was desperate to believe her favored pilot and friend had come back for her.

  It was obvious why.

  * * *

  Secret Monitoring Station

  “Did I say what Fitzwilliam told me before he left?”

  “You know, Oouzo, you never did.”

  The Slern dropped an eyestalk in Roogyin’s direction. Satisfied the Ellondyte was listening for a change, he continued, “If you play a game, always play to win. If you’re not prepared to do that, don’t play at all.”

  “Fitzwilliam told you that? Do you even remember the guy? You’re taking delayed advice from the man who always blunders in with both boots, only to find himself in over his head.”

  Oouzo flapped a few pseudopods in a way humanoids interpreted as a nod.

  “Shit!” Roogyin’s fur stood out from his back. Now, he understood the plan.

  “It’s okay,” Oouzo reassured him. “Change is inevitable.”

  “But…” Roogyin swallowed. A bizarre humanoid gesture that indicated nervousness. “I don’t like change. Haven’t you already done enough for Fitzwilliam?”

  “Yes.”

  The Ellondyte’s fur flattened back, but he tilted his head as if he were expecting water to pour out of his ears. It meant he was confused.

  Sometimes, species barriers were difficult to overcome, even between old friends, but Oouzo did his best to explain. “We’ve been watching. Nudging. Warning. Building a blackmail portfolio for, what, six Terran years? I’m not prepared to put all of that at risk for Fitz, even though I adore him, not least for saving my life. Nor for Arunsen, despite what he risked trying to save our friends. But when both need my help? It’s too heavy to resist. Speebulz understands. I hope you will too.”

  “I don’t like it.” Roogyin’s words were redundant. His hair sagged; his jaw drooped. “But…I guess it’s your call, Oouzo. You built all this. And you’re the one with most to lose.”

  By absorbing most of his other pseudopods into his body mass, Oouzo was able to extend two arm-shaped extrusions across the room and burrow them affectionately through Roogyin’s hair. For the full effect, he was supposed to pretend to pull lice off the alien’s body, but the idea was too gross.

  “I’ve lived inside the walls for too long,” said Oouzo. “It’s been a life of sorts. Maybe I’ve helped you a little. But it’s time for me to move on. I’ll miss you.”

  On the monitor screen the Kayrissans had almost completed their gloating. Sinofar and the young human girl were being marched out of Arunsen’s cell.

  Oouzo brought up control options he’d installed years ago and never dared to activate. “This had better work,” he murmured, and he locked the cell door.

  The Zhoogene guard taking point simply stood by the door he was trying to open, unable to process that it wouldn’t.

  The sisters adapted faster. Kaycey glanced at the hole in the ceiling and squatted down in readiness for an almighty leap.

  Oouzo activated the force cage that surrounded the cell.

  Kaycey sprung into the air, bringing the invisible bars to life. The force cage sparked as it discharged electrical energy into the assassin. She fell to the floor, a waffle pattern scorched into her fur.

  Ouch! That had to hurt.

  But Oouzo was just getting started.

  * * *

  Sunken Garden

  When they reached the end of the colonnades, Ree stopped and stared at Izza. The peacefulness had disappeared from her eyes. She looked haunted. “Do you remember what Shields are like?”

  Izza laughed. When Sanctuary had been her home, each of the three members of the trio had bickered about the others. But they had always made up after. “I do, Nyluga. Shields are brave, selfless, and so overprotective, they can suffocate.”

  “I swear, when I was last a Shield, I was not nearly so reckless.”

  “I remember this to be true, Nyluga-Ree. Have you forgotten that I joined your family as your pilot before you transitioned from Shield to Brood?”

  Ree gave her a hard look. “I forget nothing.”

  “How long has Das-Zee been out of contact?”

  Nyluga-Ree set off again in her perambulation.

  Izza gave her a moment and then hurried to keep up.

  “Sixty-two days,” said Ree. “In Terran standard, that would be forty-eight. Das-Zee was chasing leads rimward of here. Her last known location was Wukan-Prime. That’s where Lyi-Niah went searching for our Shield. And now I’ve lost her too.”

  “Don’t give up hope.”

  “It is hard to hope when my heart and my soul have been torn from me. Your return to the fold has renewed my spirits, Izza. I cannot adequately explain how much this means to me, but even you can only be a trauma pack for my wounds. I need my wives back.”

  “Do you wish me to find the truth of the matter?”

  “That would be easier if the Phantom were restored to me. Where is she?”

  Izza bowed deeply. “With all due respect, Nyluga, you know the value of an insurance policy. If you swear in front of your inner crew that my former crewmates can leave unharmed, then I shall restore the Phantom to you.”

  Ree’s pink cheeks reddened to an angry crimson, and she strode away.

  Izza gave her a moment. Then followed.

  * * *

  Cell Block

  The cell door clicked.

  Vetch ignored it. Maycey had already played one game today by transferring him to a new cell. An empty one. He wasn’t biting.

  On the other hand, that had sounded like bolts being undone.

  The door locked. Unlocked. Locked. Unlocked again in quick succession.

  Someone was trying to get his attention.

  “Go to hell,” Vetch shouted at the ceiling. “It’s my day off.”

  “Don’t you want to escape?” said a voice from outside his cell. The words were human, but the speaker was…what? A Slern?

  It was neither Kayrissan nor Ellondyte.

  “Sod it,” Vetch muttered under his breath. “Here I go again. A bloody plaything.”

  He shot to his feet and hurried out of the cell, but no one was there.

  “Turn right along this corridor, then take the door to yo
ur left.” The voice seemed to be coming out of the wall. “An Ellondyte will be there with clothing and a glass of water. Swap out your clothing, drink the water, then put the glass to your ear.”

  “Why should I?” asked Vetch, listening for the reply to pinpoint its origin. “I’m bored with these games. Tell me who you are.”

  “You’ll have to gamble that I have your best interests at heart,” said the voice. “No, wait, I flew Annihilation away from that police cutter. That’s more convincing, right? And human-themed porn? An act of genius. Anyway, I’ve just let an old friend sneak into the compound by the back door. If you drink the water, I’ll be able to track you and lead you to them. You can escape together.”

  Vetch lifted a wooden Guild symbol mounted on the wall and saw an old intercom grille painted over many times underneath.

  “Very clever,” said the voice through the old system. “I am the watcher in the walls. And I’m watching you throw away your only chance to get out of here.”

  “Fair point.” Vetch sprinted away.

  At the end of the corridor, he pushed through the door on the left and hurried along a wood-paneled corridor. Doors opened into rooms in which Ellondytes performed a variety of domestic tasks.

  One of them approached. A male. In one hand he carried a tray bearing a glass of water. The other held a bundle of clothing.

  Vetch grabbed the clothing and shook it out to see what the disembodied voice was expecting him to wear.

  Until now, he’d mostly believed he was being played, that the clothing would turn out to be the kind of barely-there costume the exotic dancers wore on Halcyon-3. When he saw the clothing was of the style worn by Ellondyte servants and that it would fit him perfectly, he began to hope this really was his ticket out of here.

  Vetch drank the water. Then he stripped, put on the disguise, and grabbed the empty glass.

  “On behalf of my sisters, I thank you.”

  Vetch frowned at the Ellondyte bundling up his prison smock. “You’re welcome,” he told him, though Vetch had no idea what in the Five Hells the guy was talking about.

  While he studied the glass dubiously, a piercing howl reverberated through the prison zone he’d just escaped from. An ancient instinct set his teeth on edge and filled his limbs with a burning need to run.

  Instead, he stuck the rim of the glass over his ear.

  “What was that?” Vetch asked, but in his bones, he already knew.

  The Ellondyte carrying Vetch’s clothes had already fled, but the voice of the watcher in the walls came through the glass.

  “The cat sisters are loose,” said the mysterious voice. “Change of plan.”

  * * *

  Sunken Garden

  Nyluga-Ree’s anger burned out quickly. “You keep the location of the Phantom for now, Izza. I should be proud that I taught you so well. Even Lynx will not divulge her location. I shall provide you with another ship and dispatch you with one of the sisters to hunt down the truth.”

  “You would send me off with an assassin. Do you not trust me?”

  Ree laughed. “Call me an old fool but, yes, I do trust you. Especially with your former friends as collateral. I shall send you on a small bubble craft with Maycey. That may offer other reasons to remind you why Sanctuary should be your home once more.”

  Izza felt her sap rise, flowing hot through her cheeks before stiffening the stems that grew from her scalp.

  “I never thought I’d see you blush like a human,” said Ree. “You’ve been around him too long. I know the history you have with Maycey. A journey in an intimate little ship with your former lover, and with your season almost upon you…the journey will be memorable for you both. I wish it to help bind you to us and heal wounds. Is it wrong for me to welcome you back in this way?”

  Izza looked away. She couldn’t deny that the prospect set her insides fluttering. But she couldn’t do that to Fitz. A hot trip in a small boat with Maycey would be too much, even for him.

  “Your problem, Zan Fey, is an overactive sense of loyalty. I shall remove Fitzwilliam. Then your life will be happier and simpler. It will be a shame, of course. I had high hopes he would repay his debts.”

  “Please don’t. We both know how untrustworthy and arrogant he is, but I don’t want to be the cause of his death. Even if indirectly.”

  Ree stopped and once more studied her.

  Izza stood still and yielded to the boss’s inspection. She had noted something. The whine of the blaster charge packs from the sentry positions—the noise was gone.

  Ree narrowed her eyes. “Why are you smiling, Del-Saisha?”

  “Fitz is the most irritating piece of work I’ve ever encountered. His charming arrogance hides an extreme solipsism in which the universe only exists to observe him making dramatic gestures.”

  “Your point?”

  “I’m as bad as he is because I want his dramatic gestures to be about me. Despite everything I just said, I do love him. It’s sickening, I know, but undeniable. Our souls are bound to one another. Permanently.”

  “He’s standing behind me, isn’t he?”

  “Nothing gets past you, my Nyluga,” said Fitz, strolling across the sunken garden with his F-Cannon humming in his hand. Behind him were his new people, the Chimera Company refugees from Rho-Torkis.

  “Nothing gets past you,” Fitz added, “except for me and my team. Nyluga-Ree, we have secured our exit. I assure you that your people are merely incapacitated. All we need do is walk out of here with my friends and my wife, and we ask that you accompany us on a short trip to a nearby star system.”

  Ree scanned the wall walkways and high windows, verifying the truth of Fitz’s claim. “Of course, my boy. Lead on.”

  Izza and Fitz eyed each other, desperate to cross the final six feet that were all that remained of the light-years that had separated them for so many months.

  The same thought stayed them both: Nyluga-Ree was making this far too easy.

  Fitz broke first and bounded over to Izza. He came to attention before her and bowed slightly from the waist. “My lady…”

  Izza’s need for him was far too urgent for her to deal with that courtly drent-shit. She drew her man to her and hugged him so tightly, she felt the fluid armor panels harden in his leather jacket.

  Fitzy’s soft human lips found hers.

  Her people said that human kisses tasted bland, and it was true that their lips lacked scent glands and pheromone secretions. But Zhoogenes were far too literal. Fitz’s kiss was rich with passion. Passion for her. And his taste as she kissed him greedily in front of the most feared crime boss in the sector was sweeter than ever.

  Occasionally, she worried that her desire for his adoration was shallow. Mostly, she didn’t give a damn, and this was one of those times.

  She growled when he pulled away from her lips. But she saw the lilac fire in his eyes. His lips, too, continued to echo a kissing motion, and she knew his desire for her still burned hot and true.

  He composed himself. “If we get out of here alive, from now on, we stick together.”

  “Agreed. Together until the end.”

  Splitting up had been his idea. She was happy to let that ride as he brought his lips to hers once more. He brushed the fingertips of one hand up her neck and into her head stems, which twined around his fingers and locked them there. She couldn’t have helped herself if she’d wanted to.

  While they kissed, he used his free hand to run the F-Cannon down her back, its power hum sending shivers through her. When he rested it over the sensitive area above the pelvis, he switched the selector to pop-up rounds. The sudden increase in power buzz shot up her spine all the way to her head growth, her lips, her ear tips, and all those places that needed his touch the most.

  “You!” exclaimed Nyluga-Ree.

  Fitz ripped his fingers away from her head tendrils. It hurt.

  “I banished you,” Ree shouted in the Southern Glaenwi language. Not at Fitz, at the shadowed cloisters. “What w
as it? Six years ago?”

  “What can I say?” replied a voice from the darkness. The language was Human Standard, but the speaker wasn’t. It was a Slern. “Your banishment didn’t stick. It will now. Fitzwilliam is gonna take me away.”

  Izza opened her mouth in surprise. “Oouzo?”

  The Slern with the voyeuristic habits twirled a pseudopod at her by way of greeting.

  Now it all made sense to Izza. Her coming here had provided a distraction, but Fitz had relied on his old sneak of a friend to get his team in.

  “Oouzo,” barked Ree. “Come here and explain what you’ve been doing.”

  “My apologies, Nyluga,” the Slern replied, “but I prefer to keep my distance.”

  “He’s been watching all this time,” Fitz explained. “You know what he’s like. I realize Oouzo can be a nasty nosy, but he’s also my friend. I knew he wouldn’t let me down, and I do need to borrow you for a short while, Nyluga-Ree.”

  He bowed to the crime boss. “Forgive me for my impertinence, but would you prefer we walk out the front with my F-Cannon pressed against your back? Or shall we exfil through the rear with you concealed from observation?”

  “Neither,” snapped Nyluga-Ree, glaring at Fitz. “You shall formally request my presence and afford me the respect my position demands. And as for you—” she pointed an accusing finger at Izza, “—you know what I need you to do. I might be persuaded to play your human’s games. But I need my family back. You know that. Was your loyalty to me a complete sham?”

  Ignoring Fitz’s facepalm, she bowed. “No, Nyluga. I will follow Das-Zee and Lyi-Niah rimward. I shall find the answers you seek.”

  Four doors connected the sunken garden to the inner sections of the Sanctuary. All four opened simultaneously. Ree’s Zhoogene mercs stormed out, dispersing to utilize the concealment of the snow-dappled shrubs and planters. More mercs flooded along the walkways. All were wearing thick white cloaks.

  Oouzo slid back to the deepest shadows of the cloisters, joining Sybutu, Hjon, and the others who’d survived being marooned with Fitz.

 

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