Shabin- The Reluctant Prince of Rhime

by Andrew Heister

  Her eyes flicked around the room. “Not yet.”

  The restaurant was neither one of the multitude of quick stop places where people could gorge on a massive buffet and get back to their debauchery, nor one of the extreme gourmand establishments. This place ran along the middle of the road. The sort of comfortable semi-upscale eatery where locals would go on a special occasion or tourists who dug deep could find local fare.

  “She’s late.” He drank some more wine, which he supposed tasted alright for wine. He would’ve preferred something non-alcoholic, but they were supposed to be having a romantic dinner.

  “Her or his reservations are for eight. They still have a few minutes.” She stabbed her fork into a yellow sautéed vegetable and sniffed warily.

  Jason tried some of his own dish. The meat came from a local animal called a Vermeese jumping spider. The species wasn’t related to the spiders back on Earth but had a similar appearance, except far larger. It’d been the dominant animal on this planet until humans showed up. The meat was soft and flaky like fish with a fruity taste.

  He was just taking another bite when the Lieutenant stiffened mid-chew. “He’s here.” She spoke around a full mouth.

  “Well, don’t be so obvious. You look like someone just shoved a hot poker up your ass.” Jason craned over his shoulder at the hostess podium. Ms. Wingate was dressed as Mr. White this evening. They’d been able to tap his apartment and heard him make the reservation. On Wingate’s arm was a man. His companion had their back to him, and Jason wasn’t sure if the other person wasn’t also androgynous. It mattered little what Wingate’s personal life was like.

  Shimizu washed down her mouthful and whispered. “Now you’re being obvious.”

  Jason went back to watching his plate. “Let me know when they get a seat.”

  “How long will you need to do this Mirre thing?”

  What the Lieutenant didn’t know was that he’d already gone into the Mirre with her the first day they met. He wanted to make sure she could handle the situation. Perhaps it was a bit chauvinistic, but Sparrow had been the only person he ran across who had such a horrified reaction after finding out they were inside the Mirre. Jason was increasingly sure it was only because he gave her too much information. Fake Shimizu had known she was inside but hadn’t thought of herself as separate from the real Shimizu.

  “Once he gets settled, I’ll need to observe him for about a minute before linking. After I go in, only a couple of seconds. It will give me a better sense of the person and then we can go elsewhere for the next part of this operation.”

  Jason enjoyed using words like operation, mission, and clandestine. It made him feel like he could really take on his father’s job. That someday his portrait could hang on the walls of the palace, commanding respect.

  She nodded and touched the wine to her lips again, taking a token sip this time. Her eyes kept its dance around the room so when they passed over Wingate it wouldn’t be noticeable he was her target. “They’re moving to a table now.” She spoke into her glass.

  Out of his periphery, Jason noticed the couple follow the hostess past their table to a booth at the end. The position wasn’t optimal, but he didn’t need to turn far to his left to see Wingate. Another forkful of creepy demon spider went into his mouth as he continued to take in glimpses of her. Or him. Whatever. “Smile, Lieutenant. You’re having fun on a date, remember?”

  “My family would be thrilled to know, sir.” Her lips turned into a smile that seemed more suited to a six-year-old hiding a secret. She spoke through her teeth without allowing her lips to move. “I think I recognize the other guy, but now I can’t see his face.”

  “Really?” Jason raised an inquisitive eye. “Professionally or socially?”

  She continued her ventriloquist act. “I can’t remember.” She’d never make it on stage. Her M’s were distorted. Picking up her wine, she talked into the glass again. “I’ll try to get a picture if he turns.” She was leaning at an odd angle, making him search for her hidden camera.

  He shook off the distraction. He had a job to do. He continued eating while taking surreptitious glances at the other table.

  A few minutes later, he gave the Mirre a try. Wingate, White, whoever the hell you are. Front and center.

  When the shift happened, Jason was standing over a startled Wingate who’d still been looking over the menu. The menu dropped into his lap. The companion only a shadow.

  Jason widened his face into an overt evil grin. “I’ve got you now. You messed with the wrong family.” He smashed a fist into Wingate’s face.

  His or her neck snapped to the side and bashed against a decorative wall sconce. Jason didn’t bother waiting for any more reaction. He had enough and let the Mirre fall away.

  Shimizu stared at him with her mouth gaped open. “What?” Jason asked.

  Her head shook from side to side. “You look very.” She hesitated for a second, narrowing her brows. “Vulnerable when you do that. I can’t believe your father lets you run around without a battery of guards.”

  You have no idea, Shimizu. No idea. “Yes, well, I do okay on my own. I don’t normally do this sort of thing in public.”

  “Did you get what you needed?”

  “Yup, just needed to make sure I could link with her later.” His eyes darted over to Wingate who was ordering her meal. “Did you get your picture?” He never got a good look at the companion.

  “Not a great angle but it should be alright. Shall we go?”

  “I’m not finished with my spider.” Smiling, he picked up one of the legs and cracked it open. “Would you like to try some?” He offered a joint of meat to her.

  She glared at it disdainfully. “No. Thank you, sir.” Her meal was distinctly vegetarian. “Mind if I call home real quick? I’d like to say goodnight to my daughter.”

  Jason stuffed another piece into his mouth and mumbled, “Go ahead.”

  They took their time finishing their meals, and as far as he could tell, his target took no special notice of them.

  Over the next few days, ideas congealed into actionable plans. Bill hadn’t protested his removal from the assault — frontal campaigns weren’t his forte. He liked the idea of being put in charge of picking up Ferguson, even though Jason was leery about the situation. It wouldn’t surprise him if Ferguson suffered some unforeseen accident during the grab.

  Meanwhile, Jason and Lieutenant Shimizu watched from inside a rented warehouse near the Wingate building for Ms. Wingate to show up in her Mr. White disguise. Alexandria had a massive and intricate monorail system, connecting all the domes, and the building sat near one of the stations. As Ms. Wingate came into sight, walking down the street, Jason took all three of them into the Mirre.

  “Let’s go.” Jason stood and gestured to the door.

  Shimizu had been looking through binoculars. She pulled them down and stared at him. “Is there something wrong?”

  “We’re inside the Mirre.” He prepared himself to explain once again. For the sake of security, he only told the Lieutenant how the Mirre worked while inside it, thus keeping the real Shimizu ignorant to company secrets. A little late, considering how much he’d already told other people.

  After a quick rundown, she peered around the cavernous empty warehouse. “Really?”

  This was the Lieutenant’s usual reaction. “What about him?” She pointed at the shadowed form of the corporal they brought with them as extra protection while Jason was essentially incapacitated.

  “The corporal can stay here.”

  The faux Shimizu was seeing him, but Jason kept his focus off the man, not wanting to accidentally bring him along for the ride. He’d always been a bit curious about how the simulated people interacted with the other simulated people. Those people who were no more than extras in his vision obtained any cognitive ability from the fake person who tried talking to them. A dream person having a daydream. Spending too much time reasoning out the never-ending rabbit hole this line of tho
ught brought gave him a headache. It was a job for Shabin scientists to ponder.

  They’d chosen daybreak for this reconnaissance. Wingate arrived for work every morning dressed as White in a guard’s uniform before any other day-shift staff came on duty. He relieved one of the two night-shift guards and at some point, switched into the Ms. Wingate persona.

  They left the warehouse and kept hidden behind the side of the building, waiting for Wingate to pass them on the deserted street. Her pace a brisk walk, it didn’t take long before passing them. Shimizu jumped out and threw a fist into the back of Wingate’s head. Wingate lurched forward and then turned her stumble into a run, letting out a startled yelp in the process. Jason might not have been bulky and athletic, but he could sprint. He dashed after the fleeing Wingate and dived into her legs.

  Wingate smashed to the ground, and Jason joined her, hitting his chin against the pavement in the process. She twisted to see him glaring up at her while blood dripped from his face. Her shocked expression of seeing him on Alexandria was well worth the pain. “Gotcha, asshole!”

  Shimizu quickly caught up and kicked Wingate in the ear. While dazed, Shimizu flipped her over and cuffed her hands behind her back. She tried to scream, but Shimizu pushed her nose into the ground.

  They dragged her back into the warehouse. “You can’t do this.” Split lips had her lisping.

  Shimizu didn’t bother with a chair and threw Wingate to the concrete floor. “What do you think, sir? Maybe she’d prefer to have the dome police come down here and start investigating.”

  Jason wanted to shift his focus to his gashed jaw and heal the thing. Unfortunately, they needed to make this look real. Wingate couldn’t be allowed to know this was all an illusion. He wiped the blood from his face using his shirt.

  Slowly circling around Wingate to keep her nervous, he said, “It’s over, Ms. Wingate. We’ve come for Dr. Wilkes.”

  “Wilkes isn’t one of your serfs anymore. He’s a citizen of Alexandria.” She spoke with venomous hatred and added something in another language Jason assumed was a curse. Her bashed mouth along with a Serigala accent wasn’t helping them understand her. Wingate struggled against her bonds, writhing back and forth. She only succeeded in getting into a sitting position and leaned against a pole.

  He hunkered down behind her. “Oh, I’m pretty sure he’ll be happy to return home. Either way, Serigala doesn’t own him.” Just on spite, he licked his finger and wiggled it into her ear.

  Her head jerked back, trying to smash him in the nose, but it bounced off the support column instead. “Fuck!” That one he understood.

  “What do you think, Lieutenant? Can we chop off her hand and use it to open the lock?” They’d already scripted this conversation.

  Shimizu rubbed her jaw as if considering the idea. “I’m not sure that will work, sir. But if it doesn’t, she’ll still have the other hand, and we can come back and try again.”

  “Stupid. That won’t work,” Wingate growled. “You have no idea what you’re up against.”

  Jason spoke right into her ear. “Maybe not. But it could be fun to watch. Because of you, I spent a very uncomfortable evening back on Nephele. I wouldn’t mind seeing you endure a little pain.” He pulled up on the cuffs until her joints strained enough to make her shriek.

  Shimizu came in on cue. “Sir, what if she just took us to Dr. Wilkes? She’s not going to call the authorities afterward.”

  Jason tried to summon his inner Bill and act eager for vengeance. “That wouldn’t be any fun. I want to cut off a few parts first. Maybe find out exactly how much of Wingate is female and how much is male.” He’d kept a small laser welder in his pocket and took the opportunity to dramatically pull it out. “She won’t die. This should cauterize the stump as I hack away.” He switched it on and cut a slice into the pole just above her head. The stench of burning hair filled the air.

  A horrified Wingate flushed and broke. “Okay, okay. I’ll take you to him. But you’ll never get him out of there.”

  By the time they got her moving and to the rear entrance of the compound, daylight had broken through enough to switch off the street lights. In the real world, the street would be filling with people going into work. Jason could only hope Wingate didn’t notice the discrepancy.

  As he’d done before with Bill using a guard, he forced her palm to open the rear door. Shimizu had to switch Wingate’s arms around to the front of her body to get it to reach the lock. Skipping the first floor, they went straight into the stairwell and headed into the depths.

  After getting through the locked sixth-floor entry, Shimizu dropped back, letting Jason lead Wingate forward. Shimizu had other priorities while they went ahead. The corridor was no different from those on the higher floors — white tile floor, manila walls, doors to either side.

  Jason kept a nervion shoved into Wingate’s back as she moved. Shooting her would only cause them to have to start over tomorrow, but it kept the woman in line. At the third door, another lock blocked their way.

  “Go on. Open her up.”

  Wingate hesitated for a moment and then rolled her eyes as she placed her left hand on the panel.

  Alarms rang out through the building.

  “Shit!” Jason jumped back in surprise.

  “I told you that you’d never get out of here.” Wingate shot him a satisfied grin.

  Shimizu came running up. “What happened?” She had to shout over the din.

  “She triggered something. What did you find?”

  Wingate stomped down on Jason’s heel, breaking his hold and darted for the exit. Shimizu went to follow. “Don’t bother,” he shouted and grabbed her arm. “She’s gonna have a tough time getting help.”

  Wingate made it past the entrance and out to the stairwell. The door closed, and a loud clank followed an instant later. It was enough to let Jason know they had something stronger than a door on the other side.

  Shimizu’s mouth opened and closed as she processed the scene. “What’s she going to find out there?”

  Jason shrugged. “Whatever her mind wants her to find I guess. What did you see?”

  “They have a drop-down gate that will trigger if we try to blow the door open. Other than that, the control panel seemed like a standard one. We should have the equipment to circumvent the lock.”

  “Anything else you need to tell me?”

  She shook her head. “No. I didn’t catch what she did over here.”

  “Neither did I.” Jason let the Mirre drop away.

  Over the next three days, they went through the same scenario over and over until they got inside Dr. Wilkes's lab. It seemed it was standard practice inside the compound for right palms to unlock doors and left palms set off alarms. They also found out that the little guard station just inside the back door of the building had a few weapons nobody would consider personal protection devices. Wingate had been able to kneecap Shimizu on that adventure through the maze.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It took a few more days for Captain Stiles to work out his plan and forage the necessary equipment. Jason called a gathering for all the involved parties for one last rundown of the raid. Intentionally, he showed up fifteen minutes late to the meeting inside the embassy conference room. Make them wait for him. Stay calm. Give orders. Let them see a future Emperor and not a teenager in over his head.

  Just to give an added air to his supposed authority, he had a Rhime military dress uniform tailored for him. Instead of a rank insignia, he used the crossed DNA strands dripping into two open palms. The company logo or family crest as it were. It was the same fashion his father wore to military ceremonies. In a small way, even slipping back into a familiar stiff collar and jacket was a comfort.

  He took in a deep inhalation before flinging open the door. Around the table sat Captain Stiles, Lieutenant Shimizu, a sergeant and two corporals from the embassy staff. He was surprised to see also in attendance the ever-popular Bill who was leaning back in his chair with hi
s feet on the table. The seventh person, he didn’t recognize — hefty build, brown hair cut close, a sharp nose which seemed too thin for his face. The man wasn’t in uniform and sat next to Bill.

  Captain Stiles pursed his lips and ran his eyes up and down Jason. The man clearly didn’t like seeing him claim the right to wear the uniform. The Rhime forces may have been small as planetary forces go, but they had a history and all the traditions and pride that went along with being a member.

  Wisely, Stiles skipped mentioning his disapproval. “Good morning, sir.”

  The group stood as he entered and they all gave him a brief bow. That is, all except for Bill and his companion. The beefy unknown guy stood a second after the group and awkwardly lowered his head, mimicking the soldiers.

  Bill limited himself to removing his feet from the table and boisterously announcing, “Hey, kid. Nice outfit.”

  One of the corporals cringed, and everyone seemed to have stopped breathing. Jason could have the man taken out back and shot, or he could shout a few scathing dressing-down insults. Those options would only serve to make him look like a teenager having a hysterical outburst. Well, Bill wasn’t a Rhime subject.

  Jason returned a friendly grin. “I see you’re respectful as always. Who’s your friend?”

  With Jason’s failure to react to Bill’s discourtesy, the tension seemed to rinse away from the room. Jason took his seat at the head of the table, and the crowd joined him.

  “This is Rogan Greer. He’s gonna help me drag Ferguson down here. Roe, this is our illustrious employer, Jason.”

  “Ahh,” Jason acknowledged. “One of your gladiator companions.”

  “He doesn’t look like much, but he’s the one who broke my winning record.”

  The man smiled showing a missing tooth. “Mornin’ err, sir.” Rogan had a deep voice suited to making important announcements or narrating commercials.

  “Thank you for helping, Mr. Greer.” Jason turned and raised his eyes to Captain Stiles. “I’m wondering why the two of you are here. I was under the impression your mission was to be kept separate from us.”