The Colossus Collection : A Space Opera Adventure (Books 1-7 + Bonus Material)

by Nicole Grotepas

  “Holly, what a surprise. I was just going to your condo,” he said.

  She smiled at him. “The surprise is that you didn’t surprise me, Odeon. I was watching for you. For once.”

  “You knew I’d come?” he asked, managing to look shocked despite that unreadable Druiviin expression.

  “It’s been a day or two, so let’s just say that I was expecting to see you soon. Where’ve you been? Up to no good?”

  “Working. Singing at the Glassini. I sing for money, it pays the rent,” he said.

  “Does it calm people?” she asked, more to make conversation than anything else.

  “Only if I infuse it,” he answered.

  “Infuse it. With what?”

  “My internal calm,” he explained. “Every Yasao develops a shielded core of calm when they mature. We can impart slivers of it to those around us. Each Yasao has a different style of calm, as well. In our native language we have over one hundred words for calm.”

  “In English, there are a lot of words for walk and sleep. We’re either a very action-oriented race, or a lazy one. And we have hundreds of native languages, because we’re so tribal.” Holly laughed thinking about it.

  “Bagel and a white kasè! Bagel and kasè!” The vendor said, handing the food out the window to Holly.

  She grabbed it and began walking in the direction of Charly’s club. Odeon fell into step beside her. The two of them together cleared a path through the foot traffic to get into the flow going their way.

  “Humans are very different from Yasao, and not just in appearance,” Odeon said.

  “Come with me,” Holly invited him. “I’m going to meet a potential member of the team.” She could finish the food before they arrived at the club, which was several blocks away.

  “I am coming. See how I’m following you? I don’t wait for invitations. Perhaps I should have. Apologies. This is why I’m here on Kota instead of with my parents on Itzcap—they take care of people in a resort. I’d rather try to be like humans, to learn, rather than change them to be like Yasao,” he explained.

  “Not all humans wait for invitations, that’s why they’re so interesting. And sometimes horrible.”

  “They’re like children,” Odeon said.

  Holly shrugged, taking a bite of her bagel and deciding to not be offended. He wanted to understand. That was kind of noble. “A lot of them are. I’m not so bad though,” she said.

  “Bad or good, that isn’t how I think of it. It just is.”

  “So you’re saying Yasao don’t have impulses, but still, some of them are dangerous and selfish?” She sipped her kasè, a type of hot drink from the Centau home-world.

  “Of course not. And some of them came here with the Centau. Many of them stay on Yaso, to keep learning.”

  Holly shook her head as they crossed the road, passing through the traffic of the silent aether-vehicles. Horns honked at the mass of people crossing. Holly flipped off a sleek vehicle in front of them.

  Odeon saw and stared at her.

  “It’s a human thing,” she said.

  “I know. I find it interesting that your response is immediate and angry.”

  “I’m not angry. I feel great. It felt so good to let those people know exactly how I felt about their impatience with me. With us.” She grinned and bit into her bagel.

  “So you don’t carry regret with you when you’ve given in to an impulse without thinking?” Odeon almost lost his balance as someone pushed past them. He turned and watched as the person shoved through the crowd ahead of them.

  “Not one bit. And it wasn’t an impulse. I thought about it before I did it and I consciously chose it. Wouldn’t you like to shout something at that person who just shoved you?”

  “I’m used to the city. Someone is always doing something like that.”

  “See, humans would say that bottling up the irritation is unhealthy. That eventually you’ll crack and crumble, or crack and explode, from all the emotions you’re ignoring or keeping inside.”

  Holly finished her bagel and took a drink of her kasè. They passed into a market where the street was blocked off to accommodate the tents and tables of grocers and cheese and bread vendors. The mass of bodies thinned slightly but was still bustling. They stopped talking and fought through the dense areas of the throngs clustered around the booths full of fruits and vegetables, and soon they reached the other side of the market. They continued the rest of the walk in silence, absorbing the sounds of the city around them. It was nice. Better than prison. Better than life before prison with Graf. Everything felt better than it had in a long time.

  Soon they’d reached the neon facade of the Surge club and headed inside. Though it was morning, the doors were unlocked. Charly’s club served breakfast for the destitute of the city once a week. She’d warned Holly about it—that it would be crowded, but to just bypass it and head into the upper room. So they did that, skirting a room full of what looked to be orphans and struggling men and women, both human and Constie. Holly ignored the pang that stabbed at her heart. She glanced at Odeon, who followed behind her. His eyes were alive with curiosity and sympathy. He silently returned Holly’s gaze when he noticed her looking at him.

  “It’s this way,” she said.

  They made it through the gauntlet of crushed lives and robbed dreams, into the corridor where a flight of stairs led to the upper room.

  “In here,” Holly muttered to Odeon, and they both entered the room. There were two desks against one wall with large glass-interfaces on them. Three couches and two arm-chairs arranged around a sleek white low table for kasè and drinks. A large luxurious rug covered the floor and the walls of the room were covered in smooth bamboo in a geometric pattern. One wall was entirely glass and looked out onto the floor of the club. Holly let out a low whistle.

  “Hey,” Charly said when she saw Holly, she turned from one of the glass interfaces and smiled. Then she noted Odeon. “Ah, you’ve got one too.”

  “What?” Holly blurted, shocked. “This is my friend, Odeon Starlight. He’s not ‘one,’ and I don’t ‘have’ him. Kind of a bitchy, Charly. Uh, anyway, Odeon, meet Charly Stout.” Holly sighed and shook her head.

  “Yeah, but I can say shit like that because I’m a mixed breed human—Samoan, British, and Chinese. It gives me the right to note the distinctions in other races.”

  “Oh my god. Well, I disagree but I’m not going to sit here and argue about it with you.”

  “What? Druiviins are hard to keep around. They hate humans. Right?“ she looked at Odeon, waiting for him to back her up.

  Holly leaned toward him. “You don’t have to answer her, Odeon. I apologize for her blunt, rude manner. She’s actually a cool chick once you get to know her.”

  “It’s not important, Holly Drake. She’s right that many Yasao don’t like to spend much time mixing with humans. My parents are the same way. They prefer to help them, but not fraternize. Hate them? No. We don’t hate anyone. Well, I’m not the spokesperson for my entire race. For myself, I love humans. And Constellations. Centau, on the other hand, they’re insufferable.”

  “Odeon,” Charly began, “my bartender and close friend, Torden, is a Druiviin. And I trust him more than I trust anyone. I’d take an aether blast for him. I’d take a knife for him. No offense meant.”

  “None taken, Charly.”

  “Lads and ladies!” A voice behind them said, full of pomp and arrogance. Holly cringed and turned. “I’m here. It is I, Shiro Oahu, the great.”

  “Oh god. Shiro. Terrible entrance,” Charly said, smiling and looking over Holly’s shoulder at the man who’d burst into the room.

  Holly moved away from the entrance and turned around. She sat down on one of the sofas and frowned at Shiro. He was dressed in an old school blue pinstriped suit, wore a bowler hat, and carried a gaudy cane with a gold lion head, which he held in the middle and lifted above his head as he did his introduction. He stopped, and took the black gloves off his hands, and
tossed them onto the low coffee table.

  “My entrances are never terrible. In fact, I think that was probably one of my best. Ever.” He grinned and then bowed at Holly. “Holly Drake, I presume.”

  “Er, at your service.” Holly blushed. She felt embarrassed for him, because he didn’t seem to realize how awkward he’d made everyone else feel. At least, how he’d made Holly feel. And as far as she could tell, he didn’t need the cane. It was an accessory.

  “Well met, Ms. Drake,” Shiro said straightening. His dark eyes studied her. His smile was a dimpled charmer, and he tipped his bowler hat at her. “So Charly, I see you’re still a morning soup-kitchen. Once a week or have you branched out? Did you get my gift?”

  Charly approached him for a hug and kissed both of his cheeks. “You mean, the one you put in my hands the last time we were together? Yeah, got that.” Charly laughed. “It’s been paying for the last four meals. Thanks.”

  Shiro dark olive skin colored slightly. “Ah. I forgot that we were together when I gave that to you.”

  Holly watched them, trying to get a feel for Shiro. He acted big. Bigger than he probably should, and he wanted his acts of kindness to be noticed, otherwise he wouldn’t have needed to bring up how he was helping Charly feed the homeless. That alone bothered Holly.

  “So, Charly, when will you tell me about this job you need me for?” Shiro asked.

  Odeon stirred, and Holly glanced at him. He shook his head at Holly while Shiro was still watching Charly for feedback. It was like he didn’t notice Odeon.

  “Hey, yeah. About that, Shiro,” Holly said, “We haven’t decided on anything yet. Did you meet Odeon? This is Odeon Starlight, by the way. He is on the team.”

  Shiro turned to Holly and softly slapped his cane in one hand as she spoke. “Ah, Odeon. Sorry, didn’t see you there, chap,” Shiro said.

  “Is that why your grand entrance included ‘lads and ladies’?” Odeon asked.

  Holly watched them, curious about what she was seeing. Was Odeon, calm Odeon, annoyed with Shiro? Was that even a possibility?

  “Oh, that,” Shiro laughed. “It’s a thing I say. All the time. Stick around and you’ll hear it from me quite a lot. I should get a new phrase, since it isn’t always accurate. But well, when something sticks, it sticks, right?”

  Odeon nodded.

  Holly interrupted. “Charly, I think I need a drink. Come to the bar with me?”

  “But it’s not even eleven yet,” Charly said.

  “Don’t care,” Holly said. “Come with me. My heart-rate is crazy from that kasè. I need something to slow it down. Be right back, Odeon. Want anything?”

  “No, thank you, Holly.”

  “Hey, what about me?” Shiro asked, his smile either extremely playful or intentionally dickish. It was hard to tell.

  Holly paused, knowing it was rude to not get him a drink, but definitely not in any mood to play into his games. She was running out of time and he was wasting it.

  “Right. Sorry. Shiro, would you like a drink?”

  “I’d love one. Thank you. Whatever you’re having.”

  Charly joined Holly, “Be right back, Shiro,” she said, and they left the room.

  “What is this, Holly?” Charly asked as they skipped down the stairs to the bar area.

  “Look, Char,” Holly said, using the shortened version Charly’s name. “I don’t think Shiro is going to work out. Did you see the way he was so rude to Odeon?”

  “What? No way. I didn’t notice anything unusual. That’s how he is all the time.”

  They arrived at the bar, the sound of the breakfasting homeless people behind them.

  “Torden, would you mind? Get me a mimosa, please,” Charly said. “And Holly whatever she wants.”

  “Bloody Mary. Two of them, please. Too early for real drinks,” Holly mentioned, as Torden got to work mixing the drinks. “Anyway, I don’t care if he’s always racist. Or rude. I don’t want someone on the team that rubs everyone the wrong way. He’s loud and pompous and seems to think he’s god’s gift to humanity.”

  “You can tell all that from five minutes? Wow. Look, I get it. Shiro can totally be a conceited asshole when he wants to be, but otherwise he’s really great. Nice even. Sometimes he just wants to impress someone. And I won’t say who, this time. It’s not me, though, and not Odeon. But anyway, he’d be the distraction, Holly. Those personality traits your complaining about would be perfect for the job. He draws attention but not in a way that screams, ‘you’re being conned.’ He’s subtle about it, like it’s an art to him.”

  “Two Bloody Mary’s and a mimosa,” Torden said, putting the drinks on the bar and then busying himself with the dishes. The room had cleared out some, but there were still stragglers at the tables eating. Holly looked away quickly when a little girl glanced her way.

  “Come on Holly, let’s go back to the room and you can give Shiro another shot. Don’t let your irritation about him cloud your judgment.” They started back down the hallway. “Oh, I mean, unless you have someone else for the job.”

  “Shut up. You damn well know I don’t.”

  “Good. Then you should trust me. Shiro will grow on you.”

  Back in the room Holly handed Shiro his drink. “Thank you. How about a toast?”

  Holly sighed. Now he was making toasts. Brilliant. “Sure.”

  Charly laughed and raised her drink.

  Odeon watched, sans drink, his clever eyes watching them, sizing up the situation.

  Holly lifted her own drink.

  “To new beginnings and new partnerships,” Shiro said.

  The others repeated the toast and then drank.

  Holly felt guilty for leaving Odeon out. “Sorry, Odeon. Toasts are just excuses to drink.”

  “Ah, come now, that’s not all they are. They’re a beautiful tradition that brings people together. Like line-dancing. And civic duty,” Shiro said, laughing.

  “Now then, what’s this job? I’m in, whatever it is. I’m smack in the midst of a dry-spell. I need something. Big, hopefully. Is it big?”

  “You don’t even need to hear the job?” Holly asked.

  “I trust Charly. So no. If there’s a Charly, there’s a way.”

  “You mean, if there’s a will, there’s a way?” Holly asked.

  “Yes, that too.”

  “Odeon,” Holly said, a smile creeping to her lips, hatching a plan to get past whatever Shiro’s animosity was toward her Druiviin friend, “would you mind filling in Mr. Oahu?”

  Odeon stood up and began to explain the job as he paced, his movements smooth and fluid. He watched Shiro carefully and kept glancing at Holly to make sure she approved of what he was saying.

  Shiro asked a few questions as the explanation continued, and then when Odeon finished, he seemed satisfied.

  “Well?” Holly asked. “Still want to do it.”

  Shiro looked at her. “Ah, yes. Still. Of course.”

  Charly laughed. “Welcome aboard, my main man, Shiro.”

  “Don’t worry, Ms. Drake,” Shiro said, winking at Holly. “I’ll grow on you. It’s my way.”

  20

  “Do you have a way for us to communicate, Holly?” Shiro asked the next morning. They were gathered in the upper room of the Surge club to get things going.

  Shiro’s question caught her off guard. It wasn’t like there was a guidebook on how to coordinate a heist. That’s what Cosma had been for. It was proving difficult to keep track of it all, however. Plus there were the group dynamics, which Holly hadn’t counted on even being an issue. But it was increasingly obvious as the minutes elapsed that Shiro didn’t like Odeon, and Darius didn’t like Charly, and Holly didn’t love Shiro or Darius, but she adored Charly and appreciated Odeon more than any of the other men. And Odeon liked Darius and Charly appreciated Shiro. It was like a soap opera. A drama. And it was going to drive Holly insane if they couldn’t all suppress their natural irritations with each other and just work.

 
“Is communicating going to be a good thing? Right now, Shiro, that sounds like the worst idea,” Holly pointed out.

  Darius was currently setting up a bay of v-screen panels that he’d brought in to act as an ops control center. They were on one of Charly’s existing desks. He had moved both of the large interfaces to one desk. He’d man it, he said. That was going to be one of his jobs. Of that, he’d informed everyone, claiming the most tech-prowess, and therefore that role fell to him. Holly didn’t think it worth the argument, because it was obviously the reason she’d recruited him in the first place. Though she hadn’t forgotten the scrape with the speakeasy security.

  Shiro laughed, as Holly stood with her arms crossed and watched Darius. Charly had taken off to handle some things out on the bar floor and Odeon, who had taken a fondness for a spot on the edge of one of the sofas, propped his feet up on the coffee table, pensively watching Darius with his colorful eyes. Having him around even when he wasn’t running his calming tricks was like having a cat around. He just oozed calm.

  “Well, first off,” Shiro said, tapping his lion-head cane in his palm. His dress shirt sleeves were rolled up and he wore a buttoned vest over it. He looked goddamn dapper. “We need the place scouted. I need to know the daily routine of the building so that I can plan how to provide the distraction and get whatever codes we’ll need. So typically we’d have a way to communicate as a group. A tiny earpiece for me, or something. That’s for if I run into trouble. I can call it in.”

  “Exactly, Holly. Communication is key,” Darius said, absently. “We need to cover that first.”

  “I figured it would be, but I’m not sure what’s standard,” Holly said.

  Shiro smiled at her. “I have a spot to get us outfitted.”

  “Great, can you handle it?” Holly asked, arching her eyebrow at him.

  “Sort of. Do you,” he cleared his throat. “Have a budget for the job?”

  Holly went cold inside. She was doing this job so she would have some money. She had no budget. Xadrian hadn’t offered one. Was that standard? Did the crew front the whole bill or did the client offer a . . . a per diem or something?