by S. H. Jucha
“You personally?” Eaton asked.
“I was the only individual in this household who knew Sika and what she did. Now you do,” Dorelyn replied.
“Then you plan to invite Sika to your office, and we take her here,” Eaton summarized.
“That’s the basic idea, but I warn you. It won’t be easy. First, I’d like to survive no matter how it goes down. Second, you must be prepared for a high body count. You have to overwhelm her. Don’t play it clever. She’s deadly. Third, if she makes it out of this room, she must not leave the grounds.”
“You mentioned that you’re the bait,” Eaton reminded Dorelyn. “Does that mean that you have to be in the office?”
“Yes. We always meet here for her assignments. Once, I chose to be late. When I came to my office, she wasn’t waiting outside. A few minutes after I’d sat behind the desk, she entered,” Dorelyn explained.
“We sweep your office twice a day and after visitors for devices,” Eaton protested.
“I know you do,” Dorelyn allowed. “Don’t ask me how she does it. I don’t know that either.”
“Who will you offer as her assignment?” Eaton asked.
“I’ll tell her the target is Imian Tuttle,” Dorelyn replied. She held up a hand to halt Eaton’s next words. “I know the boy isn’t a legitimate target. I’ll have to make up a story about him.”
“We could catch her when she enters the house. There’s no reason to risk you,” Eaton offered.
“Sika was in my office a few nights ago,” Dorelyn said.
“That woman hasn’t —” Eaton uttered before he clamped his mouth shut. “The night the lights were out,” he said in a quiet rush of breath.
“That’s right,” Dorelyn said. “She was waiting for me in the dark. We talked, and she disappeared.”
“How?” Eaton asked in confusion.
“Good question,” Dorelyn growled. “Why don’t you ask her after you kill her?”
“Timing?” Eaton asked.
“I’ll deliver the message to her today. I’ll set the meet for tomorrow night at twenty-two hours,” Dorelyn replied. “My explanation of the target and its urgency will keep Sika in my company for no longer than eight minutes, five at a minimum.”
“How do we protect you?” Eaton asked. “There’s only the door and the balcony as entry and exit points.”
“You’ve got a day to figure that out and complete your preparations,” Dorelyn said, dismissing Eaton.
* * * *
Sika carefully read Dorelyn’s note. She’d been expecting one. Her mistress had always underestimated her. Dorelyn presumed that her position as family head and her antagonistic manner would cower her. As camouflage, Sika had adopted a passive demeanor that placated Dorelyn.
However, Sika knew Dorelyn better than the woman knew her. While she’d sat primly on the couch, she’d studied Dorelyn’s every movement. Dorelyn thought she was a clever manipulator, who was able to hide her every thought, but that wasn’t the case.
Sika had observed every tiny twitch in Dorelyn’s face and every movement of her fingers. To Sika, Dorelyn screamed her thoughts. During their last meeting, Dorelyn’s fear was blatant to Sika’s eyes and ears.
Having observed that fear, Sika realized she’d lost her protector. Dorelyn was left with a single choice. It would be only a matter of time before the woman reached that decision and made her move.
Sika reread the note. She gave Dorelyn credit. The woman had made her decision sooner than Sika expected. The immediate meeting time suggested to Sika that this had something to do with the elections, but that wasn’t necessarily a condition to evaluate. She focused on the target Dorelyn had offered. It had a ring of probability, but Sika thought the encounter in the office could go either way.
There was little time for Sika to prepare, which she assumed her mistress counted on. She gathered the few things she’d need, ate, and sat quietly calculating, while she waited for Crimsa’s light to fade.
Sika’s apartment was near the Gaylan house, which Sika thought would amuse Dorelyn if she ever discovered that. After Crimsa set, she made her way along the darker ped-paths to the rear of the Gaylan property.
Slipping over the wall, Sika crept through the shrubbery, staying in the shadows. She crossed a few meters of open space to the thick base of an old plum tree. Then she climbed it slowly so as to not attract the attention of security, who roamed the grounds near the house.
The ancient plum tree spread its thick branches wide. Sika crawled out on one. It brought her to within twelve meters of the balcony outside Dorelyn’s office.
Sika unpacked a piece of fabric. It was material whose sides had different properties and was used in the agri-domes. One side allowed Crimsa’s weak starlight to pass, and the other side reflected the domes’ light onto the crops.
Settling on the branch, Sika covered herself in the fabric. She could see through it well enough to make out general movement but not great detail. From the outside, security should see what appeared to be a thicker area of branches, leaves, and fruit. She counted on security’s laxness, believing they wouldn’t watch the trees in the rear yard.
Then again, if security did spot Sika, she was prepared to make a quick exit over the wall. She settled in for the evening. As was her habit, she dozed on and off, while she waited.
The lights snapped on in Dorelyn’s office, and they woke Sika. She watched as workers flooded into the room. They laid protective material over the furniture and went to work.
Sika would have smiled if she had a sense of humor. The workers installed subtle constructions, most of which were against the walls and disguised as decorative facades. They were busy for hours and only cleaned up the space and retreated shortly before Crimsa eased over the horizon.
In two placements, the installations were defensive in nature, and Sika calculated they were designed as safe zones for Dorelyn. The other constructions allowed security to hide behind, or they might serve as traps.
Sika waited for Dorelyn and Eaton to investigate the work. When they appeared satisfied, they left the room, turning off the lights behind them. Then Sika removed her concealment fabric, folded it up, and stowed it in her pack. She eased slowly along the branch, shinnied down the tree, and used the shadows to escape over the wall.
Before dawn, Sika was, once again, secure in her apartment. She cleaned up, ate a meal, and sat cross-legged on a small couch to think.
It was obvious to Sika that Dorelyn’s message was an invitation to her death. There’d be no attempt to capture her. There was no value in that for her mistress. Dead, Sika couldn’t share Dorelyn’s secrets.
Secrets — the word bounced around in Sika’s brain. Secrets had worth, which meant they could be sold or traded.
The challenge was to find the individual who would most value the secrets she possessed. The choices were many. Every family head might want to take Dorelyn’s place, if and when she was arrested for her crimes.
However, Sika wanted to ensure that for the exchange she would receive assurances of protection. It occurred to her that there was one individual who perfectly fit the situation, and Dorelyn had indirectly pointed her in the right direction.
Imian Tuttle was Dorelyn’s target. That meant Idrian, the boy’s father, was potentially the individual most interested in Sika’s offer.
* * * *
Imian retired for the evening. He’d had a pleasant meal with his father, although his conscience kept the food from settling comfortably.
In Imian’s room, he sat on his bed and called Sasha. For the last few nights, there had been no more groups to contact. According to Noel, the organizations had taken over the operation, making their own contacts. There also hadn’t been any more shared calls with Harbour and Jessie.
However, Imian didn’t know if Noel and Caitie were still listening to his calls with Sasha. He did make the point of telling Noel that it wasn’t smart to anger a powerful empath, adding that Sasha was a teenager, wh
o might lack the capability to make mature decisions.
Imian finished his call with Sasha and lay back on his bed. He dozed, but something woke him. Standing beside his bed was a young woman.
“Hello, Imian,” the woman said.
The voice was familiar to Imian, and he said weakly, “Luna.”
“Actually, it’s Sika, Imian. Be a good boy and sit up.”
When Imian did as requested, Sika slipped a collar around his neck, pulled a device from her pocket, and triggered it. The collar beeped in response.
“The collar contains material the engineers use to cut the surface rock when they lay the foundations for new domes,” Sika explained. “A small amount goes a long way. Do you understand?”
Imian nodded carefully in reply. Briefly, he wondered what was pounding in his head and then realized it was the coursing of blood driven by a wildly beating heart.
“Come, Imian. We’re going to see your father,” Sika said. She gestured toward the door, and Imian eased off the bed.
“I don’t know if he’s here,” Imian protested, trying to think of ways to stall Sika.
“He’s here,” Sika replied.
When Imian exited his room, he had the presence of mind to turn to the right.
“Brave but stupid, Imian,” Sika said. “The way to your father’s suite is the other way.”
Imian reversed course and headed toward the lift at the end of the hallway. When they reached it, Sika steered him away from it, turning Imian to the left and down a short hallway.
“Access it,” Sika ordered, when they reached the end of the hallway. She was referring to the secret passage that every family used in emergencies to access or exit the family head’s third-floor suite.
“No,” Imian replied hotly. Tears streamed down his face, and he stared angrily at Sika.
Sika gave Imian some credit. For his age, he was exhibiting more courage than she would have expected.
“Imian, I’m not here to kill your father or you,” Sika said. “I need him, but I need to guarantee my safety. You’ve been tasked with the job.”
“Why should I trust you?” Imian challenged. He was desperately trying to figure out how to call security, but in any case, he was determined not to give Sika access to his father.
“Do you know who employs me?” Sika asked. She moved partially around Imian so that she could watch the approach of anyone down the hallway. “Dorelyn Gaylan,” she supplied. “Does that surprise you?”
“No, but I thought it might have been Lise Panoy or Rufus Stewart,” Imian replied.
“Good possibilities,” Sika allowed. “I’m here tonight because Dorelyn wanted me to kill you or rather she intimated that was the reason we were to meet.” Then she added, “You’ll notice that you aren’t dead. Anyway, the meeting was a ruse. I witnessed Dorelyn’s preparation for my murder.”
The whisper of the lift doors caught Sika and Imian’s attention. To Imian’s horror, his father stepped out.
“There you are, Imian. I was coming to see you,” Idrian said. “Who’s your friend?” he asked and then halted when he saw the stricken expression on his son’s face.
“This is Sika, Dorelyn’s assassin,” Imian managed to say.
“Ex-assassin,” Sika corrected. “Imian has a new necklace,” she said, waving the activator. “It’s to ensure an uninterrupted conversation. Let’s go back to Imian’s room.”
Sika had father and son sit on the bed. She occupied a chair next to the balcony doors, by which she’d entered the bedroom.
“What do you want?” Idrian asked.
“Before we get to that,” Sika said, “my name is Sika, as you heard your son say, and Dorelyn did employ me. Under her orders, I attempted to eliminate the envoy and her advisor. I did remove Roby, Emerson, and others. I can prove these actions with details that only JOS security will know.”
Idrian, who initially had been terrified of Sika, regarded her from a different perspective as she talked. This wasn’t an assassination. The woman had an opportunity to kill them both, and she wasn’t taking it. No, this was the opening of a negotiation.
“If what you’re saying is true, Sika, that information would be extremely valuable to some people,” Idrian said in a coaxing voice.
“I thought so,” Sika replied.
“She said Dorelyn wanted her to kill me,” Imian blurted out.
Idrian glanced toward Sika, who casually shrugged and said, “It’s true.”
“Why would Dorelyn target my son?” Idrian asked in surprise.
Imian belatedly realized the mistake he’d made in sharing that piece of information. He hoped the subject wouldn’t be pursued, but he heard Sika say, “That’s my question. Imian, why don’t you tell your father and me what you’ve been doing? Obviously, it’s critical enough for Dorelyn to think she could convince me of your worthiness as a target. That, of course, was what she intended to communicate to me, while her men were trying to kill me.”
When Idrian tore his eyes away from his son to regard Sika, she added, “That’s why I’m here.”
“What have you been doing, son?” Idrian asked.
“Yes, do tell,” Sika added.
Imian could understand why Sasha talked about melting brains. He wanted to see Sika writhing in pain on the floor, as her brain was enveloped in overpowering waves of anger. Then he would watch awareness fade from her eyes, as her mind left reality behind. His fantasy was interrupted by his father’s voice urging him to speak.
“I’ve been fomenting a revolution,” Imian cried out. Glaring at Sika, he said. “There! Are you satisfied?”
“No, I’m afraid I’m going to need more details than that,” Sika replied.
Imian hated the assassin’s calm manner. Then he remembered that she came by it naturally. It was the only manner she knew.
“That’s all you’re going to get,” Imian replied stoically. “Obviously, Dorelyn thinks she knows, and it represented potential bait for the likes of you.”
“Now, Imian, let’s not get personal,” Sika said, holding up the activator.
“You’ve convinced me,” Idrian said quickly and smoothly. “You’ve valuable information on Dorelyn, and now I know that she’s targeting my son. What’s your offer?”
“You get what I possess. You ensure the information gets to the commandant. Then Dorelyn will be arrested and prosecuted like they did to Markos Andropov,” Sika said.
“The Review Board will require you testify. They’ll order the commandant to find you,” Idrian pointed out.
“I would supply testimony but not personally. I’d do it remotely from your house,” Sika replied.
“Why here?” Idrian asked.
“You’re going to be my new protector,” Sika replied. She watched Idrian carefully, looking for telltale signs that he might lie to her.
“I don’t employ assassins,” Idrian said. He thought he was pronouncing their death sentences.
Sika knew that what Idrian said was a lie, but she allowed it. His security team committed the acts, and obviously, Idrian considered household employees different from using outside providers.
“You mistake me, Idrian. I would be retired. You’d compensate me, during my retirement, until the end of my years,” Sika explained.
“Your plan won’t work,” Imian said, and he suddenly had the attention of his father and Sika. “The probabilities are high that Captain Stamerson will win the presidency.”
“Why do you think that?” Idrian asked his son.
“Let the boy talk,” Sika said, which cowed Idrian. He also didn’t like the way the assassin never raised her voice or showed emotion.
“If and when Stamerson wins, JOS security will descend on the domes. The families’ old ways will be gone. Their protection will be gone, and JOS security will be hunting you.”
Sika stared at Imian. Her head cocked to the side, as if it would help her study him better. “You have been busy,” she said.
“Why should I be
so important to JOS security that they would waste their time trying to find one woman in all these domes?” Sika requested. This was the part where she needed others who had the ability to educate her about human motivations.
“It’s the aliens,” Imian replied. “They’re saving Pyre and opening a flood of possibilities for our citizens. Harbour and Jessie brought them to us.”
“And I tried to kill them,” Sika finished.
“That and in your testimony to the Review Board you’d be admitting to the killing of stationers under Dorelyn’s direction,” Imian said. “The topsiders will want some measure of justice for the killings. I don’t think Dorelyn will satisfy them.”
Sika considered what Imian said. Resuming bargaining with Idrian for his protection appeared to be a useless endeavor. If Imian was right about the topsiders, then her time was short before she was arrested and incarcerated for life. Then again, it was more likely that she would be killed in their attempt to take her.
Idrian and Imian glanced at each other, as Sika sat deep in thought. The activator rested conveniently in her hand.
Unexpectedly, Sika stood and pressed a switch on her activator.
Father and son were horrified, but then they blinked in confusion when nothing happened.
“Timer,” Sika said, as she opened the door to the balcony. “The collar will deactivate in five minutes. I suggest you have security uncouple it and dispose of it carefully.” Then she was gone.
Idrian and Imian waited for five tortuous minutes.
Finally, Idrian saw the red telltale blink off. “Don’t move a muscle,” he warned and called his security chief.
A few minutes later, a tech removed the collar, placed it in a thick metal container, and walked slowly out of the room.
-37-
Elections
For the entire day following Sika’s visit, Imian and his father were on nonspeaking terms.
Idrian realized that whatever his son had done regarding the elections, it was too late to reverse the effects of his efforts.
The following day, the elections were in full swing. Voting opened at eight hours and would close at twenty hours. The time span would allow spacers to complete a shift and still have time to register their votes through their ships’ relays.