by G W Langdon
“Like them,” he said, nodding at the flailing arms and jerky legs of the gyrating couples on the dance floor.
“Old style. The way we used to. Nobody cares, down here.”
She grabbed him by the hand, and they headed to the corner.
“I’m no expert,” he said. “What shall we do?”
“Remember when we were kids and we had to make up our own dances at the festivals because there was only Willie, me and you.”
“Yes, the Rufty Tufty… but without swapping over because there aren’t enough of us.”
She giggled. “I thought you would’ve forgotten after what’s happened. You used to say it was too girly.”
“Well, it is.”
They pushed apart and came together—single step, single step then a double. The same back out. He knelt and Sarra circled, laughing all the way—single, single, double step. He rose to his feet and went around her in the same manner.
The dance floor had cleared to the edges by the time they’d performed the Rufty Tufty three times and bowed at the finish. The small, bemused crowd clapped and whistled at the intricate mating ritual.
They walked to the alcove, bumping against each other and laughing because only they in the entire universe knew the code behind the Rufty Tufty dance.
“Would they have apple cider here?” he said, finishing his ale.
“Good luck with that.”
He squeezed through the mingling crowd. The range of drinks ran the entire length of the mirrored wall behind the bar.
“May, I recommend the Tall Tea?” a stranger said. “After that performance, you might need refreshing. Sorry, I couldn’t help but notice.”
“I’ll have an apple cider, thanks,” he said to the bartender.
“Just what you see.”
“Then a Tall Tea.” The stranger wore a pressed suit, tailored for a perfect fit over his trim body and a dashing hat pulled to the right, an inch below his brow. Except for the Indigo hat, he could’ve been a nobody Deceiver. He was somebody.
“Sarra never told me she could dance.”
“What did you say? How do you know Sarra?”
The barman slid the Tall Tea across on a napkin.
“Put the drinks on my account.” The stranger scooped up his drink and limped away. “We need to talk.”
A tall lady intercepted them. Although not the lady on the gondola, she was similar enough to be at least a cousin. Her long blonde hair was plaited into a ponytail and she wore a smart costume of trousers, blouse, and yellow jacket. Jeweled earrings sparkled against her bronzed skin.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she said. “What brings you out so late?”
“Business,” the stranger said.
“So I see,” she said, appraising him. “How did you get that sore leg? It looks painful.”
“I stepped on something I shouldn’t have. I’ll be more careful next time.”
“Just when you think you know someone they go and sneak around behind your back.”
The towering figures squeezed closer and confided in hushed tones. Their tense body language conveyed begrudging respect over important, secretive matters. Her intent stare was one of disdain, rather than interest, and his expanded chest was a defiant warning sign of his unyielding power. He looked away but tuned his ear to their conversation. They talked in an old Tilasian dialect at the limit of the Lingualia translator in his pocket. They never referred to each other by name and chose their words carefully, preferring innuendo and ambiguity to conceal their true intentions as though they had a great secret they couldn’t openly confront. Protocols, package, channels, interested parties, barriers, shells, concerns; him, them, and it. The reverent way they referred to ‘it’ could only mean they were discussing matters relating to Decay.
“Anyway, I won’t keep you from your business,” she said, easing away. “I promise we’ll meet again, but unfortunately it can’t be anytime soon.”
She gave Tom a final scrutiny and glided away to the stairway, unmoved by the throng.
“Nice meeting you,” he said to the stranger, “but I must take these drinks back.”
Sarra edged uneasily in her seat as he approached.
“What’s wrong?” he said, turning around and following Sarra’s stare.
“Tom, this is—”
“General Reuzk,” Tom said. “We’ve met before, briefly.”
Reuzk tipped his Indigo hat. “Would you mind, captain, if I borrowed Thomas for a short time? I wouldn’t barge in on, but time is short.”
“Of course, sir.”
Sarra left and made her way to the Refresh Room.
“She’s a smart girl,” Reuzk said. “I can see why you like her.”
“I love her.”
“It’s too noisy in here and the place is no longer secure. Follow me.”
The sign above the steel door read, ‘Jazz Bar, members only.’ Reuzk gestured to go inside. “Be my guest.”
An alarm sounded as he passed through the doorway. The guard scanned a wand up and down and pulled out Ba’illi’s Credits card, which strangely glowed yellow.
“We’ll pick it up on the way out.”
A band of seven musicians played at the front of the Blue room. Long drapes secluded the room from the outside and the small round tables with two plush chairs were for intimate conversations. No dancing here, strictly business.
Reuzk signaled to the band and the vocalist raised the tempo of her song. He pulled an extra chair across from another table and offered the seat as he sat down at the corner table with his back to the wall. The table light dimmed and the soft colors in the Jazz Bar bleached black and white.
“I hear you’ve taken up the habit. Blues. Is that right?” Reuzk asked Tom, puffing hard to light an extra fat Black spiceRoll.
“Ba’illi told you?” In the low light, Reuzk could’ve passed for the knight. Same oxen build and no-nonsense demeanor.
“We work together when there’s a need,” Reuzk said. “You and Sarra make quite the pair.”
“She doesn’t know does she?”
“That she’s not physical? No, not yet.”
“But she seems so naturally real.”
“We took her neural Blueprint from the bioPod when the ship was still on Gukre and developed her on Heyre through a neural feedback loop.”
“Are you going to make her physical again?”
“Would you like her to be, given that you’re going to be away for so long?”
“She deserves to live—in the flesh.”
“There wouldn’t be any difference between time in a bioPod and time inside a buffer zone, from her point of view.”
“Sarra would be happier engaging crime in the real world.”
“Maybe.”
“I want Sarra to accompany me on the Abellia, as she was on Earth before you started meddling.”
“Let’s leave Sarra aside, for now.” Reuzk pulled in closer. “What do you want from me?”
“I need insurance against the queen.”
“She can have that effect.”
“From what I’ve learned about Emperor Tilaxian, their meeting on the Space Palace could be… risky.”
Reuzk smiled as he puffed. “It will be all of that. What you’re saying is you need a backup plan in case things go upside down.”
“There’s only one way to guarantee I’ll be with Sarra again—the real Sarra.”
Reuzk scoffed. “Why should I help you? What’s in it for me?”
“You’ll need me when it comes to defending Heyre against Decay.”
“I’ve fought in action so close-quartered and vicious we had to leave the soldiers where they fell, to be picked apart and eaten as if they were nothing but carrion.” He leaned in even closer. “You wouldn’t fill their boots. You’ve never been in a real war. She might want you to be a warrior king, but it’s to serve her needs.”
All of a sudden, he felt small under Reuzk’s stinging accusation. He reached for a Blue then
pulled back. Clear head equals clear decisions. Don’t get careless, not now.
“Nevertheless,” Reuzk continued, “I have it on good authority with the right training you could make a superior soldier. What’s your plan?”
“I’ll get you a canister of my blood.”
“For a reClone?” Reuzk eased back. “We’ll need Amie for this.” He signaled for another round of drinks.
The waiter wearing an apron with stylized letter ‘A’ on the front passed through the privacy shield and placed the drinks on the table. “I wish you wouldn’t smoke those,” she said, “at least not that Color.”
“You’ve met Amie, but she would’ve looked different then.”
Nothing made logical sense in here. “Were you the waiter downstairs?”
“And in the Boar and Stag,” she said.
“Amie’s everywhere,” Reuzk said. “She’s in the Rainbow Room, as Alice keeping Sarra company. Alice is a new friend Sarra’s made at the academy. They’re talking right now, if you want to listen in?”
Amie tucked her apron into the waist cord and sat beside Reuzk. “Let him concentrate.”
“He wants to give us a sample of his blood as a backup if he doesn’t return from the Space Palace.”
“That’s wise. Blood’s the only reliable baseline for producing an exact copy. I presume we’re talking an Imagene—or better?” she added, studying Reuzk.
“As I am now, and only if I don’t come back. Could Sarra be one—an Imagene?”
“One thing at a time,” Reuzk cut in. “How do you propose delivery?”
“I thought Ba’illi might do that. You seem ‘acquainted’ with his ways.”
Reuzk kept his gaze upon Tom. “You might need a backup plan for your backup plan.” He took a heavy swig of his drink. “I’ll take you at your word you can deliver the goods, but I’ll believe it when the sneak brings the canister across.” He whispered to Amie and she shook her head. “We haven’t found the secret entrance to the tunnel you two disappeared into at Nago. Any ideas? Ba’illi won’t budge. Says it would cost him his life to tell me, which it would.”
“Tunnel?” He had to mean the tunnel under the river to the Pit. “I remember a poster on a shop wall for an upcoming Arena fight featuring the Great Fury versus Full Rage.”
Reuzk looked to Amie. “A big fight like that would have a hundred posters.”
“The poster had a torn corner.”
Amie fanned her arm across the table. “Any of these?”
“No, but this one is the closest,” he said, pointing to the tattered poster amongst the deck of images.
Amie tapped the poster and fanned the subgroup underneath.
“That one.”
Amie’s eyelids fluttered.
Reuzk sat up. “Are you sure?”
“That’s the poster I saw.”
“Got it,” she said.
“You should know the tunnel exit is guarded by melatarins.”
Reuzk took a deep puff and grinned. “I’m only interested in what comes out of the hole.” He stubbed the spiceRoll into the tray. “I hate to spoil the party, but I can’t see how you’ll get her to authorize the canister?”
“She has a heart and if anyone knows what it’s like to leave a beloved behind, it’s her.”
“She won’t accept your lack of trust in her, because that’s what you’re doing?”
“I have to hope—it’s all I’ve got left.”
“And if you do come back? What happens to the blood then?”
“I trust you’ll take the honorable course. And Sarra?”
“You can’t have my Sarra. Unlike you, I don’t trust the queen with anything she could turn against us.”
“The way Sarra was at home.”
“Lauzen has already given Queen Lillia everything about Earth we recovered from StarTripper, so the least I can do is give you the old Sarra to complete the set. I’ll even throw in a bonus for you.” Reuzk glared at Tom. “I understand your desperation, but Sarra’s integrity isn’t what I’d be most worried about. How do you know you will remain whole?”
“Let her try.”
“You get me the blood and I’ll give you Sarra.”
Tom reached across the table and held out his hand. “Deal?” Reuzk shook his hand in a strong, but bearable grip. “I have your word you won’t mention this to Sarra?”
“On my honor,” Reuzk said. “Have you told her about leaving?”
He glanced away.
“Of course, none of my business. Amie will show you the short way to the Old Times Bar. And don’t worry about the Card. I’ll see Ba’illi gets it when he brings the canister over.”
The shield went down and Amie led him to a side door.
“First on your left,” she said. “Good luck.”
He walked into the Refresh Room and splashed water on his face and rubbed his tired cheeks. No turning back from the truth.
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises?” Sarra said as he wriggled in close. “Alice was just here. She’s a new friend in the academy. She had to run, just now—trouble in the Jazz Room.” She nudged him in the ribs. “Is everything all right?”
He managed a tight smile. “I guess I’m tired.” He clasped her hands. “I’ve some very bad news. There’s no easy way to say this so I’ll just come right out with it.”
“Is it to do with General Reuzk?”
“Queen Lillia is leaving Heyre and I have to go with her.”
“And that’s bad because…?”
“She is going to see her father on the Space Palace. I’ll be away for…”
Sarra slumped onto his shoulder. “But we’ve only got back together,” she sobbed.
“And we will again,” he said, cursing the abrupt change to their perfect first date. “I found out nine days ago,” he said, stroking her hand, “but it’s taken me this long to come up with a plan—with General Reuzk.”
“After how far we’ve come, I knew it was too good to be true. It was childish of me to hope it would be so easy for us to be together again.” She wiped away the small sniffle under her nose. “I had thought you were more distracted than your usual self.”
“I wish it was different, but I have no choice.”
“Tell her you won’t go.”
“She’s too powerful.”
“How long have we got left?” she asked, without looking up.
“Two days.”
She burst into tears. “It’s not fair. I have nothing now.”
He held her tight and kissed her forehead. Couldn’t they just leave them alone? He dabbed the corners of her eyes with his handkerchief and let her heaving sobs slow. “I’ll come back.”
She swiped the hanky from him and blew her nose. “I don’t know what your talk with Reuzk was about,” she said, handing back the crumpled rag, “but you can trust him. I do. We all do… with our lives. He is our only hope to defend Heyre against Decay—other than you.”
She draped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the forehead. He placed his hands on her rosy cheeks and drew her closer until the tips of their noses touched.
“I’m never going to stop loving you,” he said.
She snuggled into his face. “I vow I’ll wait for you.”
He stared into her moist eyes. “Petalia is a long way from Alice Holt Forest and Shipwrights Way, but we found a way to be together again. The Space Palace is a long way from here—we can do it.” He wrapped his arms completely around her and drew her to him. “Una in perpetuum.”
She laid her head on his chest and placed her hand over the silver chain. “Ad infinitum.”
Chapter 34
“Your arm’s regenerating fast,” Tom said, staring at Teripeli’s child-sized elbow joint.
Doctor Teripeli held up the canister with his good arm and indicated to the table. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon after the upgrade and your preaching about the sanctity of nature. And yet here you are after blood, no less. I presume for a reC
lone. My, how things have turned. Ironic, wouldn’t you say?”
He slid onto the bed and loosened the self-tensioning belt buckle. “It’s an emergency.”
“That’s a royal buckle,” Teripeli said, glancing over to the knight. “Haven’t we come a long way.” He leaned closer to the buckle. “Jeila the Yellow, if I’m not mistaken. What’s caused the change of heart?” he asked the knight.
“Stay focused on your domain,” the knight replied.
“Of course,” Teripeli said, tidying the instruments on the tray. “It’s just that he’s always wearing that robe and I hadn’t noticed it before. You’re cutting it close. We leave tomorrow. What if something goes wrong?”
“It won’t,” the knight said, stepping closer to the bed, drawing his sword slightly.
“I mean,” Teripeli said, “what if she changes her mind—there’s history with Reuzk. You need to give your blood to Reuzk because you don’t trust her. I’m surprised she agreed to the transfer. Of course, Reuzk doesn’t have the blood yet.”
“It’s not about Reuzk,” Tom said. “It’s Sarra and me.”
“Of course it is,” Teripeli said, “but it’s just she wouldn’t naturally give Reuzk a chance to copy you.”
“There are conditions and that’s all you need to know.” When he first laid eyes upon the knight, he thought his steel-edged discipline marked him as someone sure of his place in the world. His gloved hand resting on the long-sword, ready to draw, suggested a clear purpose in life. Little did he know at the time that Thomas Ryder was the purpose the knight was destined to defend.
“Roll your shirt sleeve up as high as you can.” Teripeli dabbed a sterile pad on the vein. “Elbow resting on the pillow, arm out flat, palm up. But if she’s given her word.”
“I hope it doesn’t hurt,” he joked to lighten the mood.
“Relax. Got that? The last thing we need is anxious blood.”
Teripeli carefully placed the canister on Tom’s forearm and pressed the rounded top end snugly into his elbow crease. He stroked its back and a green spot appeared down each of the twelve segments. The black canister uncurled and under each segment were a pair of shiny, hooked clamps. “Remember to relax. They don’t like tense muscles.”
“They?”