by Eric Warren
As Cas made his way out of the kitchen Box called to him again, “What stopped you from reaching Veena? The smell of the bar?”
“No, smartass,” Cas said, returning to the entryway, his mouth firmly set. “That woman showed up again. I didn’t dream her up after all. She’s from the Coalition.”
Box reached up, turned off the screen then swiveled around to face Cas. “Spill it.”
Cas fumbled a moment. “There’s nothing to spill. The Coalition wants me back. I said no. End of story.”
Box took a step forward. “You said no? You think they’re just going to let you go about your merry business? What the Coalition wants—”
Cas waved him off. “I know. And as soon as I splash some water on my face I’m going back to meet Veena. I’ll get the money to fix the ship and then we’re gone. The Coalition can’t operate in Sargan space forever without being detected. And if she tries to stop me again I’ll just blow her cover. She’ll have to go back empty-handed.”
“What’s her name?” Box asked, reaching over for the portable terminal in the kitchen. It booted up easily.
“Lieutenant Commander Evie Diazal. Evelyn Diazal,” Cas corrected.
“Evie huh?”
“Don’t start.” Box’s fingers raced over the interface, breaking through the Coalition’s primary firewall in seconds. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”
“I know, it’s my winning personality,” Box replied. “Here. Lt. Commander Evelyn Diazal. Born 2568 on Sissk. That’s pretty far outside the inner ring.”
“And a hell of a long way from here,” Cas added.
“Entered the Navy Academy at the age of eighteen, quickly rose through the ranks. Her parents were/are in the Coalition as well, but it looks like their files have been redacted. I can’t seem to find anything on them.”
“Anything else pertinent?” Cas asked. The more he knew the better. Despite his warnings to her, he knew he hadn’t seen the last of the Lieutenant Commander.
“A few commendations for service. Her postings have been all over the place, but mostly around the outer rim. She’s stayed away from Horus and the central planets.”
“Probably explains why she doesn’t know about me. And why they chose her to bring me in. Lack of prejudice.”
“Anyone else would have smashed your nose in first,” Box said, his eyes flickering with laughter. “Oh. She’s also got one hell of a piloting record. She might even be able to keep up with me.”
“Great.” Cas sighed. “So even if we do get off this station in one piece she’ll probably be waiting for us.” He tapped his foot, pondering. “See if you can locate any ships with a faint Coalition signature. She’ll have no doubt masked it, but maybe if we know what we’re looking for we can—”
“Found it,” Box replied. “About half a kilometer away, pad 076 Delta. It’s tiny, a two-man shuttle with undercurrent capability.”
“The Coalition has been busy,” Cas said. “Those were still in the development phase when I…left.” He stared at the screen. Pad 076 Delta. It wasn’t that far away. He could get over there quickly enough. There was even a good chance he could get on board without triggering the alarm systems. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Probably not,” Box replied, spinning back to face him. “What if this is a good thing? What if they genuinely want you back? Not everything about the Coalition is bad, you know.”
“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.” Cas turned his back on Box, passing back through the entry into the corridor.
“Think about it,” Box said, raising his voice to follow Cas down the hall. “It’s the perfect opportunity to get away from Veena. You’d have the Coalition’s protection.”
Cas’ face flushed. “Yeah, all four walls with ample amounts of bread and water. No thank you. I’d rather take the risk.”
“What if it isn’t to send you back to prison?” Box asked.
“Let’s be honest. We know what this is about. And if they aren’t going to send me to prison then the alternative is much worse. Either way it’s a bad deal. At least with Veena I know what her motives are. I know she’s trying to manipulate me. She’s upfront about it. But the Coalition likes to pretend it is this giant benevolent whale, just gliding along making sure everyone is safe when really it’s just another alpha predator. It will do anything and everything it needs to survive. The only difference is the Coalition lies to you about it. They’ll pretend like nothing is wrong, that you will always be safe and secure and happy. And the truth is there is no safe, secure and happy. It doesn’t exist. That’s what most people in the Coalition don’t realize. I’m not going back to that fantasy. I like it better in the real world.”
“Tell me how you really feel about it,” Box replied.
“I don’t know why I even bother with you,” Cas said, extricating himself from the situation. Box loved to get him fired up; he just couldn’t seem to help himself.
“You sure there isn’t something you want to get off your chest?” he called, his tone slightly mocking. Cas ignored him, trailing the hallway down to his quarters. He opened the door to his room only for the stench of vomit to smack him in the face. He had to suppress the urge to relapse and instead went to the small en-suite and closed the door. The stench in here wasn’t as bad but still present. He might just have to incinerate those sheets.
He ran the tap and splashed a generous amount of water on his face, noticing his hands had stopped quivering. The anger over the Coalition had won out over any fear they might actually be able to take him back. Water ran down the sides of his neck, seeping into the shirt underneath. He took an extra few minutes to clean his teeth before giving himself a last once-over. He could do this. So what if it meant he knew how the rest of his life would turn out? There were worse fates. Maybe in another ten, fifteen years working for Veena he might even be able to move up in the organization. Though…he shuddered at the thought of what she required of her lieutenants. Perhaps it was best to stay in transport. To stay out in space.
Wide, open space.
***
This time Cas took the opposite direction outside the hard lock with his ship. Since Devil’s Gate was a giant disc it only made sense he’d get to Veena’s by taking the long way around, except he had a stop to make first.
The upper corridors weren’t as spacious as the promenades of the lower levels, most of them having been designed with function in mind rather than comfort. More than once he had to duck under pipes and squeeze through small spaces to get to adjacent landing pads. The first thing through his mind was Claxians would have a hell of a time fitting through here which was an odd thought to have considering he hadn’t even seen a Claxian since his court-martial. But it seemed the appearance of Evie was drawing out all sorts of unwanted and repressed memories.
“Zero seven six delta,” Cas said to himself as he approached one of the locks. “Let’s see if anyone is home or you’re still out there waiting for me.” He pulled a scanner from his pocket and did a quick search for heat signatures, finding nothing out of the ordinary. The shuttle was remarkably small. Had she slept in it? Coalition space was at least five days away with the nearest undercurrent. He crept into the lock itself, walking up the ramp to the shuttle door. “All we have to do is make you think there’s a coolant leak inside.” Cas tapped a few commands on the access panel and the door slid open.
It was sparse. As all things Coalition tended to be. A small bench to his right doubled as a bed, a locker sat to his left which had been left unlocked. He peeked inside to find three identical uniforms and a smattering of other personal items. A small door beside the locker led to the onboard utilities, also very clean and not smelling of vomit. The front of the ship had two chairs and a viewscreen. According to Box all the Coalition had done was apply a layer of electronic paint and altered the engine signatures. It was enough to pass if anyone wasn’t looking, but for someone with experience with Coalition ships, and s
huttles in particular, he’d had no trouble identifying it.
He’d almost forgotten what it was like.
Shaking the thoughts away Cas quickly went to work, removing one of the side panels to the shuttle to access the primary undercurrent generator. Two minutes later and the system had been permanently disabled. She’d need either a brand-new generator—which she’d have a hard time finding here without revealing she was Coalition—or wait for rescue. Either way, she wouldn’t be following Cas once Veena approved the loan and all the parts were installed. Neither of which should take more than half a day at most.
Cas dusted off his hands, replaced the panel and made his way back down into the lock, careful to leave everything as he’d found it.
One problem down, one to go.
7
Taking the long way around to Veena’s Cas didn’t pass The Pit again, but he kept an eye out for Evie anyway. He wasn’t about to be ambushed a second time and she seemed to have some kind of superpower allowing her to get right in his way.
At the same time, he practiced what he would say to Veena. He needed to be firm and yet grateful. He’d do what he had to do and get the hell off this station. At least out there he was in control. And while he didn’t relish the idea of ferrying any more princesses across the Sargan Commonwealth things could be a lot worse.
Cas approached the giant cylindrical dampeners near the center of the station. They were at least thirty meters in height and ran up through multiple levels. But if not for them, anytime a cosmic trench would pass through the system every person on the station would go flying. He thought of them as gigantic metal guards, since they were situated on the opposite sides of the entrance to Veena’s section of the station; one of the most lavish and unnecessarily large spaces he’d ever seen. He approached the doors nestled between the dampeners and pressed his thumb to the pad.
The twenty-meter-tall doors swung back, revealing the inner entrance, complete with human guard this time. He was tall yet muscular, wearing a derby hat with what appeared to be the tip of a spear sticking out of the top.
“Kort,” Cas said, passing the guard standing beside the scanning portal.
“Robeaux,” Kort replied, tapping a few buttons. Cas felt a tingle as the scanners electronically probed every part of his body.
“Gun,” Kort said, holding his hand out. Cas unholstered the boomcannon and slapped into Kort’s hand, butt first.
“Do everyone a favor and keep the safety on,” Cas said.
“Someone’s feisty today,” Kort replied, placing the gun in a drawer which slid shut. “You’re gonna need it.”
“Why? What’s wrong this time?”
Kort smiled, revealing two missing teeth and two more platinum replacements. Cas hadn’t seen it but another one of Veena’s lieutenants told him Kort pulled them himself. Apparently, he was working toward a set of specially engraved teeth. “You’ll find out. I just hope you haven’t come to ask for anything.”
Cas sighed, pondering how far he could get the Reasonable Excuse before it completely fell apart. “Thanks for the advice,” Cas replied. Kort hit another button and the second set of doors opened, revealing what Cas referred to as the long walk.
Past the second set of doors was a massive, open room, thirty meters high, just like the dampeners. In front of him a long walkway a hundred meters long, decorated with a red velvet carpet straight down the middle. On either side of the carpet the floor extended another ten meters before dropping off into nothing. Below housed the guts of the station itself and at least a two-hundred-fifty-meter drop. Veena told him it was where she disposed of all the people who disappointed her over the years. She often joked it was becoming too full, which was impossible as anything that fell was incinerated halfway down from the heat the station generated.
Regardless, it provided a creepy atmosphere with the orange glow emanating on both sides as her “subjects” as she liked to call them approached her. At the very end of the walk sat—what else—but a giant throne, complete with steps leading up to it. Behind the throne more dampeners gave the room the appearance of a church with a very large organ. Cas grumbled to himself as he walked, not allowing himself to be intimidated by the space or her for that matter. He’d never seen her actual quarters, this was just where she tended to do business. And considering she owned the station itself, it was only fitting she chose the center as her lair. Off to the left and right of the throne were areas where the floor was not missing and presumably led to her private sanctuary.
Today it looked as if he’d come at a good time. Typically she was on the throne, mirror or console in hand, either preening herself or watching something entertaining. Though one time he’d walked in as she’d ordered an execution, watching as the man had been tossed over the edge. She had been in a particularly good mood that day.
Cas marched along, taking less time than he normally did to get up to the throne. “Rasp, you’re looking well,” he said to the light-skinned man standing off to the side with his hands clasped in front of him.
“Come back later, Robeaux,” Rasp replied in a deep voice. “You don’t wanna be here today.”
“I’ll make it quick,” Cas replied. “Let me see her.”
Rasp shrugged. “It’s your life.” He turned and disappeared behind one of the walls to the left.
Cas waited off to the side of the stairs. He didn’t like being directly in front of the throne. It felt wrong somehow; too ominous. The only sounds were the occasional swoosh noises from the dampeners and the general hum of the station. Otherwise it was silent, which was impressive for such a cavernous room. He imagined it could be quite peaceful in here. Maybe that’s why she liked it. After all it—
“And what does he want?”
The screech came from behind the wall where Rasp had disappeared. The relative calm of the room was destroyed as Veena’s voice echoed throughout the entire room, bouncing off every surface over and over again.
The distinct sound of heels striking the floor made Cas glance up to see Veena appear from behind the wall. But this wasn’t the typical together, everything-is-in-its-place Veena. This was a frantic Veena, a side of her he’d never seen before. “I don’t fucking believe this,” she huffed. She ignored him, making her way up the stairs to her throne, her long green dress dragging on the ground behind her as it always did. Her dark hair, typically in some kind of ornate braid he could never figure out, fell over her bare shoulders while her green crown remained perched on the top of her head. She had vibrant blue eyes which complimented her dress except today they were hidden behind a sheer veil attached to her crown. She adjusted herself then sat in the throne, crossing her ankles and grasping the armrests on either side before turning to look at him. “Approach,” she said.
Cas swallowed his pride and made his way up the steps, stopping at the very last one to take a knee. “High Priestess Veena,” he said, bowing his head.
“Caspian Robeaux. What a surprise.” Her tone caught him off guard, but he wasn’t about to let it derail his plans. Veena liked pomp and circumstance and it wasn’t out of the ordinary to spend at least five minutes singing her praises. But everything about this meeting seemed out of the ordinary. He wasn’t sure what to expect.
“I’d like to thank you for taking the time—”
“Save it, Robeaux,” she snapped. “We both know why you’re here so get on with it and leave me be. I have more important matters to attend to.”
Cas raised his head and stood, drawing a deep breath. “I need a loan.”
She let out one short, but loud, laugh and sat back in her chair, glaring at him. “A loan.” Her eyes dashed to the left. “And what, pray tell, would you need with a loan?”
“My ship is in need of repairs and if you wish for me to continue making supply runs for you, you’ll help me out.”
A wicked smile spread across Veena’s face. This was more like it. This was what he‘d expected. She relaxed her shoulders, not releasing him from her gaz
e. “And just how much do you need? If I were to grant such a request.” Her long nails tapped against the armrests in a strange rhythm.
“Four hundred and twenty-five thousand,” Cas replied. It was a lot. They both knew it was a lot. But he wasn’t going to back down now.
“Oh, Caspian,” she said, her voice suddenly saccharine. “That’s an awful lot of money.” She tapped the armrests again. “And what might I receive in return for this…investment?”
“Extend my contract. Until it’s paid in full with interest.”
Veena seemed to consider it, then turned her head to the side, revealing a series of earrings sparkling in the light just underneath her hair. “I heard you had a little encounter with our mutual friend Maddox yesterday.”
“You could call it that.” What was she getting at?
“As I understand it, he wasn’t very fair to you.” She turned back to him, her grin widening. “And you had to take matters into your own hands. Things got…heated.”
“Your point?” Cas asked.
“It just seems to me that my little boy scout is growing up,” she said, her voice still dripping with honey. “Maybe you’re ready for something more…serious.”
He struggled to maintain his composure. “I’m fine out where I am; ferrying diplomats and your other illustrious guests. You need someone you can trust out there.” Suddenly coming here seemed like a bad idea. He hadn’t considered she might take the opportunity to renegotiate his contract. There were plenty of couriers, she could always use someone else. And why would she give him a loan when she could easily reassign him? He mentally slapped himself in the face. How could he have been so stupid not to see this before?
Her long fingers traced imaginary lines on the armrests. “I don’t know, Caspian. I hate the thought of you out there all alone, just you, your ship, and that pathetic robot your only source of company.” She leaned forward. “I think we can find you something much more suited to your particular…skills.”