Holly breathed a sigh of relief. What if he’d lied and said it wasn’t right? Would it have turned into a fight with her aether whip and . . . what, black magic bombs being thrown at her?
Danielle nodded.
“Thank you, Boris.”
The large human receded into the background, hiding behind the displays. Holly sensed him even though she could no longer see him.
“Well, Holly Drake, you’re free to go.”
“Can I get a receipt?”
Danielle paused with a soup soaked chunk of bread hovering over her bowl.
“What, like literally? No. I don’t give out receipts.”
Holly raised an eyebrow. “And I don’t usually ask for them. But I’m also not usually being threatened with kidnapping and abandonment on a deserted moon. So.”
“That? Oh, that. Just threats. I’d never do it.”
They stared at each other.
Danielle sighed. “Boris, love, grab me one of those silly receipt books we keep around as a novelty. And a pen.”
7
“Does anyone else ever use these booths?” Holly asked the bartender twenty minutes after leaving Danielle Le Roi at Popotes et Magie.
Xadrian had called and demanded—on Dave’s behalf—a meeting. So she’d done what she had to do and accommodated the request. Dave, aka Idris Caron, was the human with money that kept Holly afloat with all his little odd jobs. He worked from within the Centau government, the Syndicate, and was the highest paid human in that organization.
Very few people knew about his side gigs. And Holly still didn’t know whether he was to be trusted or not. He’d gotten her out of prison, but since then, he’d been pulling her strings and putting her in awkward positions.
She surveyed the club, then brought her attention back to the bartender. “Come to think of it, does anyone else ever work here, Ben?” She read his glowing nametag.
“Well, I own it, so you know, vested interest in keeping my clients happy.”
“I bet that’s not hard to do.”
“Not with my sparkling conversation and mixology skills.”
“I meant—” she shook her head. She’d meant that it wasn’t hard to please inebriated customers. But what was the point? Let the man think she meant he was amazing. Where was the harm? And she noted that he’d called them clients and not customers, as perhaps a less caring bartender would.
“You meeting your beau again?”
She could see the question in his eyes. The thing he didn’t say, the thing… was it a subtle hint that they were having some kind of illicit affair?
“Not my beau, and yes, meeting him, and no, not my boyfriend.” She felt compelled to repeat that Dave was in fact not her boyfriend. Briefly, she considered putting on a more convincing show. Maybe crumpling her nose and making gagging expressions.
“Business partner?”
“That’s more like it. He’ll be here soon. Probably. He’s usually late. And I’m early.”
Ben reached into a drawer below the bar top and handed her a key. He laughed, then said, “Sounds like you guys have timing issues. Your usual booth?”
“Actually, can I get a different one?”
Ben stared at her for a moment, as though startled, then nodded. “Sure thing.” He gave her a different key. “Booth five. And is it time for a drink yet? Red ale? Imperial?”
“Actually, feeling like a glass of something else.”
“I can recommend a glass of wine? I have a few nice Centau wines. Or even some reds.”
“Sounds good. Yes, please, a Centau wine. And send some food back.”
“Hor d’oeuvres, got it. My choosing?”
“Perfect. I trust your judgment.” She turned and headed for booth five not really knowing what direction she should go but heading toward the usual booth anyway, partially to get away from the bartender, who always made her feel self-conscious.
She felt his eyes on her as she came to the realization that the direction she’d gone was toward booth twelve—their old booth. Now she was forced to skirt the perimeter of the spinning bar, aware that several sets of eyes were on her as she moved in the right direction. Booth five was actually quite close to the central bar, which was like the hub at the center of a large, lopsided wheel, due to the elongated formation of the bar. A few regular customers hovered around the bar at that end, talking raucously.
Ben approached her before she went inside and leaned across the bar to hand her a glass of wine.
“You found your booth,” he said with a friendly smile.
“Yes, looks mighty close to the bar.”
“I can get you another, if you’d like,” he said in that affable, yet disconcerting way.
“This will do. Thanks.”
He was too nice. Was there something off about him or did he just short out her fuses for some other reason?
She needed to get to the bottom of this. Why had he hesitated when she asked for a different booth? She started to wonder, suspiciously, if he was a spy of some kind, who’d benefited from her previous use of a usual booth.
There was no reason to wonder that, except that as the heat turned up with Aimee Voss—the new heart at the center of the Shadow Coalition—and she strengthened her reign using new hands such as Magna—one who Holly’d had the incredible displeasure of meeting—and The Cocks filled out, swelling in ranks (she couldn’t help it and chuckled to herself over the private joke) and inserting themselves into the empty spaces left by the dissolution of the former Shadow Coalition, she wasn’t sure who she could trust.
And that included Dave. Still.
Holly let herself into booth five and shut the thick glass door behind her. She paced around the room, inspecting it, wondering if Ben had bugged this one as well. There I go, attributing all manner of awful sins to him.
She couldn’t very well search, since the walls of the booth were windows and he could see in, and he was, just then watching her.
He grinned faintly, then busied himself with other things.
She watched Ben at the bar, never pulling her eyes away as she backed around the booth, and then sat down. From there, she could still see Ben and the entrance to the club. Now she could appear to be staring into space, while watching him from her peripheral vision.
She kept the wine glass in her hand and sipped as she waited, watching Ben interact with his regulars. He pulled out some glasses and began wiping them down with a bar towel. She felt his eyes on her many times, and wondered why. Was it merely idle curiosity, interest, or was there something sinister beneath it all?
Dave finally showed up, bustling in like he was late—which he was. He marched up to the bar, his long wool coat trailing behind him. He removed his gloves and began talking to Ben like they were old friends.
This piqued Holly’s curiosity something fierce. Dave always acted like Ben was a sidebar. A parenthetical to their time at the bar. Had Dave been using the club for meetings? With other agents? Xadrian made fun of the place, so it was surely not him coming here to meet with Dave—where did those two meet?
Dave leaned against the bar. Ben got down a bottle and began pouring golden brown liquid over ice. The ice was to water it down, Holly knew. Dave was a purist, a true snob in every sense of the word, so he’d only do that to keep his edge.
Finally Ben nodded his head in her direction and Dave’s gaze swept across the bar, to settle on Holly, where she hoped she appeared to be staring straight ahead. Like a stiff mannequin, having a terrible time in the listening booth. At that moment she realized that she’d not even put music on—am I the worst actress ever?
As Dave moved in her direction, she stood up and selected a fusion jazz album. Then she turned and watched as Dave opened the door and let himself in.
“Ms. Holly Drake, extraordinaire,” he said, closing the door behind him with a click.
“That’s right. I deserve that. I am extraordinary. Thank you,” she said, pretending to bow, hamming up the cockiness.
She nodded. “And you are late, as usual.”
“I do what I can.” He tossed his gloves onto the sofa next to her discarded winter clothes and put his glass of bourbon on the cocktail table. “Like the music.”
“I try.”
He shrugged out of the coat and threw it onto the gloves. “New booth.”
“Figured it was best to mix it up. That way prying minds can’t record what we say.”
“They’d likely just record every booth and still snag our conversation.”
“Then let’s turn up the music.”
“Let’s,” he agreed.
Holly stood up to do just that, adjusting the knob at the console against the inside wall.
She thought of something. “You knew this bar. Do you know the bartender?”
Dave turned to glance out at Ben who was approaching them with a plate of hor d’oeuvres. “No. Do you?”
“Not till I started coming here. You were awfully chatty with him today.”
“He’s made me enough drinks. I figured I should be polite, lest he decide to spit in them.”
She pursed her lips, wondering if she could take him at face value. The short answer: no. She ran with it anyway and remarked, “Vivid imagination. Did he?”
“Not this time, no. Did you order the food?”
Ben arrived at the door and Dave opened it.
“Hope you guys like charcuterie,” Ben said, placing the large slab of wood on the cocktail table. A selection of whole grain mustard, crostini, tiny bowls of honey, cheeses, and dried meats were arranged across the dark wood.
Holly gave him a grateful nod. “Who doesn’t?”
“Vegans, I guess,” Ben said with a soft chuckle. “But they’re only half-human. I hear. Er, let me know if I can get you two anything else.”
“Thank you,” Holly said, watching him leave. The heavy door clicked shut behind him.
“You’re not vegan, are you, Holly?”
“I ordered it. So, no. But I’m conscientious of when and how often I eat meat. You know what I mean. So, Dave, why the meeting?” She sipped the wine the bartender had picked out for her. She was feeling like a smart ass today, inflecting Dave’s fake name in a way that could only mean she wanted to verbally spar with him more. Did she have a lot of angst to work out? Maybe she needed more daily exercise. More something … was it the tension with Ben? Her gaze flicked to him outside the booth, again, and then quickly flitted back to her booth, where Dave had finally finished removing his winter stuff. He was eyeing the food appreciatively.
“Do you know what a cipher key is, Holly?”
He sat down near the board and began snacking.
“Heard the terms, not really that familiar with them,” she said, recalling that Xadrian had mentioned it.
“The information on a large section of the crystal you brought me is encrypted. If I’m going to decode it, I’ll need the key.”
Holly pursed her lips. He was talking about the crystal they’d retrieved from the floating storage cube on Po. Shiro nearly died on that gig when his chute didn’t open.
“Great, find the key. Good luck with that.” She sat down across from him and selected an olive, thoughtful of what Dave was implying. No doubt he wanted her to do something about this cipher key.
“You should take that on the road. Tour. Become famous. Stop with all this nonsense of gallivanting across the 6 Moons, really find your calling.”
She smiled. “I should.”
“You’ll want this job, Holly. I’m still allocating the funds for it as well as looking for the intel on where it’s at. When I get it, like most of these jobs, you’ll need to work fast.”
“Dave, if you’re asking me to keep my schedule open, just say so.”
His eyes studied her, reflecting the overhead track lights in minuscule flickers. He gathered a folded rosette of thin salame and placed an olive in the center of it, carefully. “I am.”
“I’m curious about when you’ll tell me what you hope to find on that crystal.”
“Big secrets. 6 Moons shattering secrets.”
“Is that code for you’ll never tell me?”
“It very well may be. Not code, though. Obviously I won’t know until I see the information, so my answer will depend on what I find out.”
“If it’s just another piece in some larger puzzle, I’ll be really annoyed.” Holly cocked her head to one side, wondering if she should make a threat—even an idle one—right then.
“I’d suggest you plan on that. That seems to be the way these things go.”
“It’s almost as if someone is just keeping you occupied with a wild goose chase, which doesn’t end in a goose or an egg.”
“I’ve thought of that too. But these pieces have been in circulation for years. They were hidden from someone else. Who, I don’t know. That’s something I think we’ll find out as we continue to dig.”
Holly nodded, but she wasn’t so sure Dave even knew what he was talking about.
8
Este met Holly out in front of the school that she’d been managing with Elan and Val. As former colleagues of Holly’s, she’d entrusted them with caring for the orphans that had nowhere else to go after being rescued from the Shadow Coalition.
Distractions never ended, it seemed, and she’d rushed straight over from her meeting with Dave.
Snow flew in their faces and Holly nuzzled deeper into her wool scarf, and pulled her hat lower over her forehead. Autos rushed by on the street, making loud whisking noises that broke through the hat muffling Holly’s ears. Her scarf flooded her nose with the odor of a wet animal from absorbing flakes.
Este’s call had been unexpected, but honestly Holly wasn’t surprised—the trend had been going towards chaos at the school. In some ways it was more surprising that the call hadn’t come sooner.
“Thanks for meeting me,” Este said, “I was just coming back from the police station. The one where your sister works. I met with her to let her know kids are being taken and running away.
“Sorry, Holly, I didn’t know where else to turn. This is too much, and Elan is in the north with the small branch of the school. Those are the higher risk kids—we wanted them far away from the clutches of the new Shadow Coalition. Unfortunately, it seems that they’re the only ones who’re currently safe from them, but we can’t send all the students there.”
“Please, no apology necessary. It’s good that Meg and Gabe know what’s going on. Did they have any ideas on what to do?”
“They’re looking into it. Honestly? Nothing helpful. But I’m hopeful some good will come of it.” Este motioned for Holly to follow her. “Come inside. Let’s get out of the snow.”
Este led the way into the school, which took up several floors of a spire. They dusted off in the foyer and then headed into the office where a few workers handled administrative tasks.
Through the office windows, Holly saw some of the children heading through the corridors to a class. These were the really young ones, the age that Holly had taught. A wistful longing gripped her at the sight of them bouncing down the hallway, full of exuberance despite the fact that they’d once been kidnapped and forced into labor on the mining base orbiting Ixion.
A jolt shook her at a sudden thought—she could actually be teaching again, since the orphanage and school were both privately owned (sort of by her, in fact), and she wouldn’t be subject to background checks that brought up her prison record.
She’d thought of it before, but that was back when she still had tons of work to do to fix the 6 Moons. And now…
She still had too much to do. She was needed elsewhere—it seemed there was no turning back. You could never really just resume an old life. Too much had changed Holly even if she did one day decide to begin teaching at Elan’s school. The scars only faded, never really left, and they’d altered her
perspective, possibly even part of her heart.
“Elan is gone, so Valentine and I are keeping things running smoothly here, unfortunately, we’ve had some massive disappearances, Holly. This week it’s twenty five kids. Last week it was thirty. We won’t have a student body at this rate, or kids to fill the beds on the top floors.”
Holly sat down in a chair that faced Este’s desk. The two office workers at small desks interacting with monitors glanced at Holly. She’d never seen them before, but they seemed uncomfortable with Holly’s presence.
Did they know who she was? Normally Holly would ignore them until Este introduced her to them, but Holly had gone down this path of suspecting everyone of late, and so she introduced herself, testing to see if the workers remained distracted and alarmed by her presence.
“Holly Drake. I helped start this place. And you are?” she asked.
“Oh, sorry. Where are my manners?” Este muttered. “This is Yohab, he’s recently joined us. And Chelle.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Holly said. Yohab was a Constellation male. And Chelle was a human female.
The surprise was the Constie. It was more common to see Constellations in industrial jobs or vying for the artwork she chased after, or running with the Shadow Coalition as henchman and minions of more powerful people.
Perhaps Yohab was a standup guy. Este probably did background checks on the new hires. She made a mental note to have Darius check them both out later, and to ask Este, or better yet, Val, for more of their information so Darius could run a check on them.
“Holly, come with me,” Este said, leading Holly back to her private office. “Val will join us soon.”
“Did you run checks on those people?” Holly asked, knowing it was a bit of a dick question. Of course Este had them checked. Or Elan.
Este stared, aghast. “Well, of course we did. After all we’ve gone through? You think we’d just hire some random Joe off the street and let them be around our kids?”
“Sorry, of course you did. Of course you did, Este. I’m just… in a weird place right now. Seeing traitors everywhere. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. But, I did want to make sure. That’s all.” Holly couldn’t let Este’s reaction distract her from the fact that asking that question was a necessary evil.
The Colossus Collection : A Space Opera Adventure (Books 1-7 + Bonus Material) Page 130