Aurora Blazing

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Aurora Blazing Page 10

by Jessie Mihalik


  If the guard was surprised that I was a woman, he didn’t show it. He nodded.

  The shop was empty of other customers, so I perused the shelves slowly, keeping an eye out for the sculpted sapphire bluebird I knew lurked somewhere in one of these piles of junk. The room was chilly without the added benefit of my cloak and I shivered. That, at least, was a solvable problem. I grabbed a black sweater in my size, paid for it, and put it on.

  It took me another twenty minutes to locate the bluebird, partially hidden behind a stack of empty energy cartridges. I plucked it from its hiding spot and took it to the cashier, a blond kid in his late teens. Another guard stood a few meters away, a deterrent for anyone who thought they might be able to overpower the kid.

  I set the bird on the counter. “How much for this?” I asked.

  The cashier smiled and gently picked up the sapphire figure. “Mabel is not for sale; she’s our mascot.”

  I smiled serenely when I really wanted to shake him and demand he get to the point already. But this dance was how Peter protected himself, and for all the kid knew, I really did just want to buy the bird.

  I continued spouting the required lines. “I will pay you a fair price. My aunt adores bluebirds and this is the prettiest one I’ve ever seen.”

  “I am sorry, madam, but the bird is not for sale.” His grin was properly apologetic and charming. “Perhaps something else in the shop has caught your eye?”

  “I will look,” I said. I’d already spotted the book on military tactics that was the next step of the process, but I made a show of poking around the shop. When I’d worked my way around to the book, I picked it up, flipped through it, then tucked it under my arm.

  I waited an additional two minutes, time I silently counted off to keep from rushing, before I moved back toward the cashier. “How much for the book?”

  “Oh, what a find! That’s a rare edition. It’s fifteen hundred credits.”

  This edition was as rare as the air we were breathing and about as valuable. Guskov had a crate of them in the back. The fee was just another step to ensure I was serious about meeting with him.

  “I will take it. Are you sure you aren’t willing to sell the bird?”

  The cashier rang up my purchase and held out the chip reader. I checked the total, then paid with one of my credit chips.

  After the payment went through, the kid said, “Perhaps the owner would be willing to sell for the right price. Write down your name and number and I will ask.” He handed me a white paper card and a pen.

  I wrote down my real name and the address of my secondary com. I handed the card back to him and he glanced at it, then his eyes widened and he blanched. “My lady—”

  “Keep that to yourself, if you don’t mind,” I said quietly.

  “Of course. Sure. Will do.” He clamped his mouth shut.

  This time my smile was genuine. “Thank you. I will await your call.”

  I ordered a transport and collected my cloak. My stomach rumbled with hunger. I hadn’t eaten anything since last night’s dinner.

  “Go to Tatiana’s,” the guard at the door said. “Best food. Good price.”

  And also likely owned by someone in Guskov’s pocket, who would watch me like a hawk and report back. Still, food was food, and if Guskov protected it, at least I didn’t have to worry about the other factions jumping me. “Thank you.”

  In the transport, I searched for Tatiana’s and found only one result, a noodle house a few blocks away on the other side of my hotel. It was still in the flower district, so the neighborhood should be safe enough. I set the destination and the transport lifted off.

  The lack of sleep was catching up with me. I’d need to work in a nap or I wouldn’t be sharp enough to deal with Guskov. And in the absolute best-case scenario, he wouldn’t contact me until late tonight, anyway. Speedy this process was not, but it was my best chance of information until Nadia got back to me.

  Tatiana’s noodle shop had that warm, welcoming vibe that treasured neighborhood gems developed over time. It might be a front, but it was a nice one. Business was brisk enough that no one paid obvious attention to me. I ordered a beer and a bowl of BioBeef noodles.

  Synthesizer beef equivalent wasn’t quite as good as the real deal, but it was far easier to come by. Even if the shop didn’t have a synthesizer in house, they could order BioBeef from a local distributor for approximately 1 percent of the cost of real beef.

  I carried my beer to a table in one of the darker corners of the room and lowered my hood. The strong scent of food wrapped around me, causing my stomach to once again complain about its empty state. Some days food smells nauseated me, but today was thankfully not one of them.

  A waitress balancing a full tray expertly delivered a bowl of noodles as big as my head without dropping anything. The dish steamed gently and the smell was spicy and salty and divine.

  I was nearly a quarter of the way through the meal, an achievement, when my news alert went off. I surreptitiously pulled up the info on my glasses only to lose the rest of my appetite.

  Ian had gone through with it.

  I was now a wanted woman, though House von Hasenberg was spinning it as a safety issue. They were concerned about my well-being considering the recent attack on me and would pay for information on my whereabouts. I was presumed disoriented and should be detained until a representative of the House could retrieve me.

  The atmosphere of the shop hadn’t changed at all, but I felt as if I had a spotlight shining on me. Ian Bishop was once again going to ruin my best chance of information with his ham-fisted tactics. It’s as if the man lived to frustrate me, even from halfway across the ’verse.

  I ordered a transport and tracked its progress. When it was thirty seconds out, I slipped from the table and raised my hood. I wove through the crowd toward the exit. I was two meters from the door when a man bumped into my left side.

  He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Keep moving,” he said, his voice low.

  I drew my blaster under the cover of my cloak, but I continued toward the door. We stepped out into the rain and my transport settled in front of us.

  “This yours?” he asked. When I didn’t answer he said, “Get in.”

  I twisted away from him and he let me go. He held his hands up as if approaching a scared animal. “I just want to help you, my lady,” he said. He had a striking face, not quite handsome but somehow arresting nonetheless. He was tall and lean and probably pushing forty, but time had treated him well.

  “Who are you? Did Guskov send you?”

  His eyes darted over my shoulder and I spun, but not fast enough. The stunstick hit like a lightning bolt. I screamed as my body lit up in agony. The implant in my brain erupted in pain so intense I thought my head was exploding.

  When darkness rose to swallow me up, I didn’t fight the pull.

  I came to on a hard bench. My head ached like someone had stabbed a stiletto into it, multiple times. My brain implant really did not appreciate being hit with a stunstick.

  A quick peek around assured me that I was alone in a standard mercenary holding cell. I couldn’t quite focus on the wireless signals flying about the room, but I knew I was under surveillance.

  I sat up with a groan and did a quick inventory. My right cheek throbbed and when I pressed against it, it felt bruised. Had I hit it when I passed out? I couldn’t remember.

  The mercs had taken everything I had on me, including my weapons, coms, and credits. They’d even taken my cloak. I hated the thought of hands riffling through my pockets while I was defenseless. Hell, I hated being defenseless in the first place.

  I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. I realized that perhaps I hadn’t given Ada enough credit. She’d successfully dodged security teams for years. I’d been caught in five minutes, maybe less, and we’d had the same training. She was going to have a field day with this.

  That thought brought me up short. Maybe Ada would arrive before Ian? The boun
ty hadn’t said which representative of House von Hasenberg had to pick me up, and the mercs wouldn’t care as long as they were paid. I crossed my fingers that she saw the news first.

  I pieced together my public persona. Before Gregory, becoming outwardly emotionless had been second nature, drilled into me by countless tutors and Consortium events. But while physical pain sharpened some of my siblings, it completely derailed me and made it so much harder to keep my emotions in check.

  The cell door opened and the man from earlier entered. In the light, his eyes were pale green and his hair was a light reddish blond. He held out a sealed bottle of water. When I refused to take it, he set it on the bench next to me.

  “I’m Rob. Sorry about the cheek,” he said. “We didn’t expect you to pass out. Your nanos should take care of it in a few hours.” A hint of bitterness crept into his tone.

  Nanobots had to be designed for each person’s DNA and were prohibitively expensive. My modified nanos still healed, but they were slower than most. I’d be sporting a bruised cheek for at least a day.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Stunsticks are designed to incapacitate their targets,” I said. “You failed to plan for that and I paid the price.” He tried to interrupt, but I continued, “How long was I out?”

  “Maybe an hour,” he said. “We had a doctor check you, just to be sure you were okay. Why did you mention Guskov?”

  “He and I have business.”

  Rob paled. “Were you under his protection?”

  My smile was designed to discomfit. “Too late now, don’t you think? Have you contacted House von Hasenberg?”

  “Yes, they have someone on the way. He should be here in a little while. Do you need anything until then? Would you like to contact Guskov?”

  Freedom and painkillers would be a good start. I didn’t say that, though. “No. And you should be aware that I know exactly how many credits I was carrying.” I let ice slip into my tone. “I expect them returned to me, along with the rest of my stuff.”

  He grimaced but didn’t argue. Despite my current incarceration, I was still a von Hasenberg. I could make life very unpleasant for him and his team.

  “If you need anything else, just ask. We are keeping you in here for your protection. If any of the less scrupulous squads knew you were on-planet, they would try to retrieve you themselves. It would not end well for you.”

  “You’re a saint, Rob,” I murmured under my breath.

  He grinned. “We all have to eat,” he said. “Don’t try anything stupid and we’ll get you safely back to your House without any further drama.” He left, locking the door behind him.

  I closed my eyes and skimmed the wireless signals flying through the air. Pain blossomed in my temples. I pulled back and tried again, with an even lighter touch. I’d been practicing this technique for months, teaching my brain to feel the differences in the signals without fully decrypting them.

  The hope was that one day my brain and the implant would be able to automatically distinguish important messages from the garbage and only spend energy decrypting the valuable messages. Ideally, I would be able to shut off all signal processing like flipping a switch, but without Gregory’s genius, I had to take baby steps to get there.

  None of the messages I checked were worth the headache of actively looking at them. I mentally let go and sank into a light meditation. Gregory had taught me patience, if nothing else.

  I don’t know how long I sat there, drifting in and out of sleep in a sea of mental calm, before the cell door opened again, but it was long enough that my legs had fallen asleep. When Rob didn’t say anything, I cracked open one eye.

  The other popped open in amazement.

  Ian Bishop stood just inside my cell, dressed in dark combat fatigues and scowling violently. “What happened to your face?” he asked, his voice low and harsh.

  “I don’t know,” I said, startled into honesty. How had he gotten here so quickly? And what was he wearing? I’d never seen Ian in anything other than a suit or tuxedo, but I had to admit the change was a good one. The shirt clung to his broad chest and flat abs, while the pants accentuated his lean waist and strong legs. “Are you real?” I blurted out.

  Anger morphed into concern in an instant. “What is wrong with you?” he asked.

  I’d thought myself crazy after Gregory had first injected me. He hadn’t warned me about what he was doing, of course. I’d just woken up one day after being incredibly sick and had started hearing other people in my head. I hadn’t known that I was unconsciously decrypting wireless communication signals. And since then, I’d had a secret fear that perhaps I wasn’t as sane as I liked to believe.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I’m just surprised to see you.”

  “Get up, we’re leaving.”

  “No.”

  Now the familiar scowl was back. “I don’t have time for your games. Brava isn’t safe. We need to go now.”

  I sighed and fought to control my temper. Ian could punch through my calm faster than anyone else I knew. “I can’t. My legs are asleep.” He moved toward me and I held up a hand. “Just give me a minute, Ian. You can certainly do that, since it’s your fault I’m here anyway.”

  A muscle flexed along his jaw and his eyes narrowed. Oh, he wanted to argue with me but he knew we were being watched. I smiled at him and watched the pulse thrum in his neck.

  I scooted to the edge of the bench and hissed as my legs lit up with pins and needles. Ian offered me a hand up. His hand was cool against my palm, his strength effortless. He pulled me up but my legs weren’t quite ready to support me, so I overbalanced and collapsed against his chest. He froze and then started to set me away.

  “Stop. Don’t move,” I said. I slid one hand up and wrapped it over his shoulder so he couldn’t push me away. My other hand was at his waist and it took all my willpower not to trace the muscles I could feel under my fingertips. I mentally shook myself and continued, “My legs feel like they’re on fire. Give me a second for the circulation to catch up.”

  A gentle touch traced over my bruised cheek. “What happened to your face?” he asked again, his voice quieter but no less fierce.

  “They stunned me. I blacked out. So I really don’t know. I probably hit it when I fell.”

  His muscles firmed under my hands, and his arm locked around my back, his entire body going tense and still. “You were unconscious?”

  “For a little while.” I tried to push back to see his face, but I’d have better luck moving a brick wall.

  “Did anything else happen?”

  I shrugged. “They took my stuff, so they must’ve searched me.”

  “Your things will be returned to you,” Ian said, as much to whoever was on the other end of the room’s surveillance as to me. He gripped my shoulders and stepped away from me. When he was sure I was stable, he let me go.

  I didn’t make the mistake of thinking everything was cool between us. Banked anger still burned in his eyes, but he had rightly decided that this was not the place to get into it. I inclined my head in agreement.

  Ian stalked from the room without another word, leaving me to trail along behind him like an obedient puppy. I bit my tongue and did just that. I could be reasonable when the situation demanded it.

  We walked by two more cells, both empty, before we passed through a heavy door and out into the main area of the mercenaries’ warehouse. The space was lined with gear cabinets. Two large electronic conference tables dominated the center of the room. The tabletop displays were covered in satellite maps, bounty information, and notes. My picture and bounty notice were prominently displayed on the closer of the two tables.

  The far table was surrounded by six armed men who were trying hard to pretend they weren’t watching us closely. Rob, the only mercenary whose name I knew, approached Ian.

  “Where are Lady von Hasenberg’s things?” Ian demanded, his voice ice cold.

  Rob waved and a young boy appeared carrying a small bag and my cloak. “Give t
hem to the lady,” Rob directed.

  Ian intercepted the boy, took the bag, and looked inside. The boy held out the cloak. I took it and shrugged it on. Ian handed me the bag with the rest of my stuff.

  The bag held everything I’d been carrying, including the correct number of credit chips, but it remained to be seen if they still held their credits. I took out my main com and unlocked it with my identity chip and a quietly whispered phrase. I held the first credit chip up to the com and waited for the chip reader to register it.

  Rob started to look nervous. I raised an eyebrow at him when the credit chip had fewer than half of the credits that were on it when I was captured. The other chips were the same, leaving me almost ten thousand credits short. “Did you not believe me?” I asked.

  “I hoped you were bluffing,” he said with a sigh. “What does a House daughter care about a few credits?”

  “I will have them returned nonetheless. Do you need me to give you the total?”

  “You are not what I expected, Lady von Hasenberg,” he said. He produced a credit chip from his pocket and held it out. “I checked the total myself.”

  I moved across the room and plucked the chip from his fingers. I didn’t need to look at Ian to know he was scowling at me again, I could practically feel the heat of it. I checked the chip and found the total matched exactly what was missing. “Thank you,” I said.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay, now that your House knows you’re safe?” Rob asked with a charming grin. “I could use someone good with numbers. Especially someone as pretty—and rich—as you.”

  I’d been deflecting empty compliments since I could walk, but Rob’s pleasant sincerity was a refreshing change of pace.

  “Lady von Hasenberg will be returning to the safety of House von Hasenberg,” Ian growled.

  I would be returning to the House but not quite yet. Still, I had to fight one battle at a time. “I would say it’s been fun, Rob, but that would be a lie. Spend the bounty wisely.”

  Chapter 10

  Ian clasped my elbow and led me outside to a waiting transport. When I stopped before stepping inside, Ian demanded, “Get in.”

 

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