by Alex Kings
“And everyone else in the galaxy,” said Rurthk.
“Quite so.”
“The thing is, why do you want my help? You have the biggest criminal organisation in the galaxy under your control. I have one ship.”
“You sell yourself short,” said Wells.
“Quite possibly.” Rurthk shrugged. “Even so, your resources far outstrip mine.”
Wells was silent for a few moments. It was subtle, but Rurthk could see behind the facade, there was tension. He was struggling to admit something.
“I have a large number of people working for me,” said Wells. “But I don't know who among them I can trust. Vihan Yvredi act in the most cowardly, underhanded, despicable ways.”
“Yeah, they're pretty good at that,” said Rurthk
“I have a small number of people I can trust absolutely,” said Wells. “The rest are useless to me in this endeavour. You have some success with fighting Vihan Yvredi, and you may know stuff I don't.”
“Do you want to employ me?” said Rurthk.
“Yes.”
“No deal.”
“You would be very well remunerated.”
“No,” said Rurthk. “I'm not being anyone's pawn any more, you understand? I've got plans of my own. Now, if you want to chip in and help us, I could certainly find a place for you.”
Wells glowered at him. Rurthk looked back calmly.
“Fine,” said Wells. “We will work together. And I will not pay you.”
Rurthk smiled. “Good to hear it. I'll get back to you when I have a role for you to play.”
*
“So Albert Wells is on side,” said Rurthk, looking around at his team. “Note I say Wells and not Sweetblade. He only has a few people.”
They were in the Fire Strider, which was sitting in a spaceport in Cantor while they did some reconnaissance work. The cargo bay was empty, save for a small bed holding a sedated Mr. Soul. No one wanted to leave him alone with the Outsider.
Eloise took a deep breath. “Working with Albert Wells. Huh.” She frowned. “You know, I'm sure we decided not to have anything to do with Sweetblade again.”
“So am I,” said Rurthk. “But in times like these, principles tend to fall by the wayside. Anyway, I've made it very clear, we're not working for him. If anything, he's working for us, for free.”
“How many people is a few?” said Laodicean.
“Just over a hundred,” said Rurthk. “Some weapons and tech specialists, some soldiers. All have access to heavy weaponry.”
“The solution, then, is clear,” said Laodicean. “We have him form them into strike teams and attack the seven Vihan Yvredi groups simultaneously. That should be fourteen to fifteen people in each team – enough to find the group and bomb their working spaces. In the case of the ice base, we can get in with the stealth shuttle.”
“We don't have precise locations, and they tend to set up shop in civilian areas,” said Eloise. “You could end up hurting a lot of innocent people that way.”
“Not with competent operation,” insisted Laodicean. “And if there are losses, that is unfortunate but necessary.”
“No,” said Rurthk. “Innocent deaths aside, it wouldn't do any good. We don't have them all. And it wouldn't stop the war.”
“It would kill Mr. Hand. He is the leader of the current operation.”
“And someone would replace him,” said Rurthk.
“Even so, to lose so many cells at once would severely damage the operation.”
“It wouldn't stop the war.”
“You want a perfect opportunity to fix everything,” said Laodicean. “It does not exist. You will end up waiting forever for the perfect plan and perfect opportunity, and in the meantime, they will likely find us and kill us.”
“We're not going to attack without a way to put them down for good, and that's final!” said Rurthk. He looked at Laodicean, and continued more softly, “No half measures.”
“As you wish, Captain,”
“Good,” said Rurthk. He looked around the rest of the team. “Now let's get to work.”
They set about looking at scans from orbit of the neighbourhoods where Vihan Yvredi was working. They checked local bulletins for clues.
After about ten minutes, Olivia put her tablet down, looked around the cargo bay for a few moments, and then said, “Where's Laodicean?”
Rurthk looked up sharply. He checked the cockpit and the two rooms. All of them were empty.
“Shit,” he said. He had a nasty suspicion about where Laodicean had gone.
He grabbed a tablet and checked a map of the town they were in. Public bulkwave links were available a few hundred metres away.
Laodicean could easily have found Wells' contact number. If he decided to make a deal with him separately …
“You want help?” said Eloise, standing up.
Rurthk shook his head. “I'd best go alone. Keep things going here.”
He ran out into the spaceport. The sky outside was a uniform grey like polished tin, the ground was damp, and a light snow fell without settling.
Rurthk sprinted out of the spaceport and down the road. A few Petaurs turned to look as he ran past.
The public bulkwave, a single stall with a plain front wedged between two larger, more ornate buildings, came up on his left. Rurthk saw Laodicean waiting outside it. Its door slid open, and Laodicean glided inside.
Rurthk reached the stall and dodged through the door as it was closing.
The inside of the stall was plain white, a small cylinder, with a screen opposite the door.
Laodicean turned to face him. “Yes, Captain?”
“I know you're going to contact Wells and ask him to order a strike,” said Rurthk.
“Yes.”
“Don't do this.”
“I have to. Consider our alliance over. Please leave.” Laodicean turned to the terminal and extended his effector fields.
Rurthk moved between Laodicean and the terminal. This proved to be pointless. The effector fields just snaked around him, and Laodicean continued to dial. He probably didn't even need the screen – he could do it all with his neural link.
“Will you just listen to me for one moment?” Rurthk held out his hands. “If there was any trust at all between us these past few days, and not just mutual advantage …”
“You made it clear there was little trust on your part,” said Laodicean. But his effector fields retreated. “Very well. Say you what you have to say.”
“One more question,” said Rurthk. “Back on Blindness, why did you capture Mr. Soul? Why did you interrogate him?”
“I have told you why,” said Laodicean.
“I've heard your excuses. He might give us some answers, losing him might hurt Vihan Yvredi … But why did you really do it? What was so important that you risked everything to capture him?”
Laodicean was silent.
“Because to me, it looked like you wanted to hurt him.”
“No,” insisted Laodicean. “I wanted … I still want … to bring him to justice.”
“You say that. But I think this is about vengeance, not justice. It's as simple as that, you want to hurt them because they hurt you. They killed Illipa, so you're going to kill them.”
Laodicean hesitated. “My only interest is justice,” he said. And, after a moment, he added, “Why do you think otherwise?”
“Because I'm in the same place as you are. They tricked me. They killed a member of my crew – they killed my friend! Whenever I think about that, I want to find Mr. Hand and his cronies and tear them apart. I've lost count of how many times I'm dreamt of sinking my teeth into his flesh.”
“I … do not succumb to such primitive urges,” said Laodicean.
“Really? Said Rurthk. “Then do this for me. Think about the moment you saw Illipa die, and then tell me you don't want to hurt the people responsible.”
“I …” Laodicean fell silent. His tentacles tensed for a moment, then relaxed. “Ah,�
�� he said at last. “You … may be correct.”
Rurthk took a deep breath. “I think if we have a chance to stop this war and we don't take it, we're as bad as they are.”
“I have always said caution is better than rushing ahead, and yet here I am,” said Laodicean. “Yes, Rurthk, I agree. Let's try and formulate a better plan.”
He floated back from the terminal, and opened the door. Together, they left the stall and headed back to the Fire Strider.
Chapter 63: Play Into His Hands
Back on the Outsider, in interstellar space, Rurthk sat at the observation lounge table with his back to the window. A tablet on the wall played noise softly. Another tablet was extended so it covered most of the table's surface, leaving space for a cup of water. It was filled with information. One section was devoted to what they'd learned on the reconnaissance trip. Another to the tracker – apparently Mr. Hand had moved once sometime in the last few hours. Elsewhere, he had lists of assets, lists of problems, and a sketchpad of crossed-out ideas.
The door opened and Eloise came in, her long red dress swishing behind her. “Any luck?” she said.
Rurthk shrugged. “No. Maybe. I have no idea.”
Eloise leaned over the table and looked at what he'd written so far. “Will that work?” she said, pointing at one of Rurthk's idea.
“Why wouldn't it?”
“If the tracking system isn't in real time –”
“Damnit, you're right,” said Rurthk. He crossed the idea out. He stared at the tablet in silence for a while, reviewing his work so far. Then he said, “Something's not working.”
“I think the problem is, you're thinking of Mr. hand as just another powerful mark, like Tommy Egliante or Sukone. Someone whose defences we can just sneak past.”
Rurthk looked up. “You think that's the wrong approach?”
Eloise nodded. “Look,” she said. “Mr. Hand is a master at manipulation, subterfuge, and headfucks. We need to be the same.”
“And we need to play into his hands,” said Rurthk.
Eloise stared at him. “That's not quite where I was going.”
“No, no,” said Rurthk. “We need to play into his hands. And then, when he comes to catch us, he walks into our trap.” Suddenly smiling, he swept away all his previous ideas and started scribbling on the tablet.
They threw ideas back and forth, and shot them down almost as quickly as they came.
At last, when the tablet was full once again, Rurthk said, “Let's call the crew I in. I think we've got the skeleton of a good plan.”
*
The next few hours were spent shoring up the better ideas, throwing out the useless, and replacing them with better ones.
Eloise, Olivia and Dr. Wolff together got through two pots of coffee (ranging from some fashionable latte in Olivia's case to black in Wolff's case). Rurthk finished the bright pink strips of high-quality meat the Life queen had given him as a parting gift. Laodicean, through natural Tethyan biology or some bioengineered implant, never seemed less than alert.
“For the courier, we're going to need someone really skilled – agile, silent, and dextrous,” said Olivia. “You're all occupied, and I'm not good enough. And they need to be trustworthy.”
Rurthk nodded. “That's a problem. Any Glaber would be too obvious. And I don't want to rely on Wells' people for this unless we absolutely have to.”
Eloise looked at him. “There is someone,” she said softly.
“Who?” said Rurthk
Then he realised. He stared at her. He inhaled softly.
“No,” he said.
“We might have no other choice.”
“Do we have to?”
Eloise nodded.
Rurthk sighed and closed his eyes. “Okay,” he said after a moment. “Let's talk to Mero.”
“Well, we can't call him,” Eloise said. “All his official means of communication are being monitored.”
“We'll have to send someone in person and hope he hasn't moved on,” said Rurthk.
Olivia held up her hand.
“Really?” said Rurthk.
“Yeah,” said Olivia. “I guess, uh, I'm the least useful here. You all know how to work the tracker now. And he's not likely to want to talk to either of you, is he? He's never got on with Dr. Wolff, and he doesn't really know Laodicean.”
Eloise smiled lightly. “You're our sociopath wrangler,” she said.
Olivia grinned.
“Okay,” said Rurthk. “Go in disguise. And get a fake ID. Your father might still be looking for you.”
“Okay,” said Olivia. She turned and headed out of the observation lounge and went to get ready.
Rurthk sat down on one of the chairs and sighed. “It's only just struck me,” he said. “This is turning out to be a hell of a plan. I'm not just talking about Mero.” He closed his eyes and pressed his palm against his forehead. “We're colluding with all manner of bastards and psychopaths. We're killing people just for the sake of manipulating others. I think I've taken a few too many pages out of Mr. Hand's book.” He looked up at Eloise. “It doesn't feel great, to be honest.”
Eloise put her hand on his shoulder. “It's the only way.”
“I'm sure that's what the Petaurs running Vihan Yvredi tell themselves too,” said Rurthk.
“Believe me Captain,” said Dr. Wolff. “I've done far worse things.”
“And Vihan Yvredi seek to hold on to power. We don't,” said Laodicean.
Rurthk looked over them. “I wish that helped,” he said.
*
Mr. Soul, locked in empty quarters, pressed his ear to the wall and listened intently. No one on the ship was stupid enough to speak about anything important while in the corridor outside.
But with Petaur hearing, he wasn't limited to the corridor outside. He couldn't quite tell where precisely the voices were – halfway across the ship, perhaps – but he could just about make them out. They were distant and tinny-sounding. He could make out some words and not others, when the speakers spoke too softly or moved too far away.
“Base,” he heard one of them say. Whatever came next was too muffled to make out. Grimacing, he pressed even harder against the wall until his skull began to ache.
“ … We need to take the ice base … ” he heard.
“ … the ice base is key … ”
“ … three days and then … ”
“ … security measures? … ”
“ … we can use the stealth shuttle … ”
The voices began to get muffled again. He swore softly under his breath and closed his eyes.
The sounds came closer.
This time he could make out the voices and even their speakers.
“We need a simultaneous attack on the other Vihan Yvredi groups,” said Eloise.
“He can handle that, no problem,” said Rurthk. “And we'll go after the ice base. Then –”
“Wait,” said Eloise.
The two voices fell silent. He could hear them approaching the corridor.
Mr. Soul leapt back and quickly slid his hands into the manacles that were connected to the wall. They kept him away from the door, but gave him just enough leeway to reach the bed and toilet.
The outside lock opened with a clang and the door swung open, and Rurthk and Eloise appeared on the other side, their pistols pointing at him. It was just to check he was still there – they did it every hour or so since he'd woken up from sedation.
He glared at them.
Satisfied, Rurthk closed the door.
Mr. Soul continued to glare at the door, but in his head, he was repeating what he'd heard to memorise it.
Chapter 64: The Very Worst People In The Galaxy
Olivia walked through the Liberty spaceport. The same one, she realised, in which she'd used a fake ID and first found the Outsider.
Now she was using another fake ID. And, for this trip, she'd adopted Eloise's appearance. A blonde, curly wig (there was no time to fast-grow her hair),
a red and white polka dot dress, and heels. She was rather less elegant about it, she thought – most of her effort was going into not stumbling.
The express liner had a silvery smooth hull, curving organically from a streamlined nose to a rounded passenger cabin. Through the broad windows, she could see velvet curtains. It was, to say the least, on the expensive side. But it could get her to Aria in just over a day, with a change at the Tethyan world Okeanos.
She walked up the ramp behind a couple of Petaurs. On the other side of the airlock, obsequious attendants greeted her by her false name, and showed her inside.
Inside plush chairs were arranged around circular tables by the windows. The walls were panelled with marble and brass. There was a pleasant curving pattern of bars on the ceiling for Petaurs to hang from, and large cushions were laid out for Varanids.
Olivia grimaced slightly. The conspicuous elegance reminded her of the life she'd left behind. She'd much rather have taken the trip in a ship like the Outsider, or even a normal liner. But this was her only choice.
She settled at one of the smaller tables and stared out the window. When the pre-flight announcement sounded in the cabin, her heart suddenly leapt into her throat. Soon she would be lightyears away from the crew. That hadn't happened since she'd escaped her father's clutches on Mars.
What if she failed? What if she couldn't find Mero?
She swallowed and crushed the feeling. She could do this, she told herself. After everything else she'd achieved, this was nothing.
The liner took off. She watched the spaceport shrink against the background of Liberty, which itself shrunk as the landscape began to curve away. The sky around them dimmed and turned black and Cantor became a globe beneath her.
The liner accelerated away from Cantor, and then jumped.
*
The Outsider, using a fake transponder, settled into a spaceport in one of Cantor's back towns. The sky was solid grey. Cold rain drizzled on and off.
Rurthk sat in his quarters, staring at the tablet on the wall.