As though frozen between one breath and the next, he ran numerous scenarios through his head. Slowly, he realized he needed more information. Had to make his own inquiries among Beta Aimag personnel. And to do so, he must get Sha off-world.
Slowly wrangling his runaway thoughts until they were under control, he looked once more at Snow and stretched a taunt, pain-filled smile across lips abruptly as dry as a godan’s scales.
“I believe, Snow, I will be moving to take care of your alleged invasion sooner than I thought.
Her eyes lit up, and she parted her lips, teasing them with her tongue for a moment. “That, sweetness, is what I’ve been waiting to hear. Anytime you want to drag me under the bleachers, you just let me know.”
Still trying to grapple with the sickening possibilities, he looked her full in the face. “Snow, if this information proves as useful as I believe it will, I may just take you up on that offer.”
And he meant it.
23
Merchant House, Halifax
Vanderfox, Adhafera
Prefecture VII, The Republic
2 September 3134
A too-early sun lifted off from the distant tarmac, slowly picking up speed as the ungainly spheroid DropShip gained altitude and velocity. Petr, along with his miserable companion, watched as a second and then a third DropShip lifted: a man-made celestial trinary of fire to prematurely illuminate most of Halifax.
Petr felt warm, though the ships were too distant for him to feel the heat waves of the drives. His warmth came from the glow of misdirection. Of assured victory snatched from the jaws of defeat. Of putting a lesser in his place.
Another handful of minutes slipped by, as the DropShips ascended to the point at which their silver hulls could no longer be seen, only the contrails of smoke and the pinpricks of light that still hurt the eye.
Finally, Petr broke the silence—no sense in salting the wound unnecessarily . . . at least, not too unnecessarily. “Master Tidinic, I believe we have some business to conclude. Shall we adjourn inside?
The man nodded slowly. They turned in unison and made the trek to the central negotiation table, past the ubiquitous lowing cattle and shouting workmen, where a handful of both locals and Sea Fox personnel, including Merchant saFactor Tia, were waiting; her averted gaze said she would not soon forgive him for wrenching control of the negotiations away from her when he had been preoccupied and absent for so many weeks.
Deal with it. She had had disappointments before and would have them again.
After everyone was seated, Petr waited; events still pulled at him, but he’d gained some breathing room. Some time to finally, absolutely, close this deal and move on to other things.
Particularly, verifying the truth of Snow’s intel.
People shuffled their feet, coughed behind their hands and shifted in their seats as Petr let the silence stretch.
Eyes darting left and right, trying to find an escape that did not exist, Master Tidinic transformed from a raptor to a rabbit. Petr curled his lips at the man’s apparent total collapse and finally spoke—time to finish him.
“Master Tidinic, it would appear there has been a reversal. Though ovKhan Clarke won the right to negotiate with you, apparently he is no longer interested in the deal.”
“Some of his personnel are still here; I have a meeting with them this afternoon.” The words sounded weak, almost petulant.
“Aff, that is true. However, I can assure you they are the lowest level of negotiators in Beta Aimag, and can hardly bargain with you without constantly affirming their words with ovKhan Clarke. Something very difficult to do with him out of system.”
“They are heading for Stewart,” the man said sullenly, accusatorily.
“Really? I wondered at their destination.” He managed not to smile at such a blatant lie.
The raptor gaze returned momentarily, as Tidinic knew full well where Beta had gotten its information. “Yes, I’m sure you did. However, whoever let such valuable information slip has to understand the Stewart markets are, to be frank”—he paused, swept his hand around to include the entire beef industry on Adhafera—“much larger. Though we would like to consider ourselves a prize, we are a much smaller catch compared to Stewart. It makes one wonder what value could be placed on our world, which Stewart does not have.”
Petr leaned back, ignored the creak of the chair and felt the satisfying pop of his spine adjusting.
Not such a rabbit after all. Good. But I still have you caught in the field, with no cover.
“Master Tidinic, though I am sure I do not know where such information might have come from, I can assure you we also have business of our own that must be attended to.” Petr glanced at his chronometer, as though he cared about either the time or the date.
“Both ovKhan Clarke and I answer to higher authority than ourselves, and we have both been delayed too long on this world. A world, at your own admission, which is a small catch, did you call it?” Petr quirked the corner of his mouth and watched Tidinic wince at his own error.
Petr raised his hand and a hard copy immediately appeared from the hands of an aide. He settled the paper onto the table, flicked it with the edge of his index finger, sent it shooting across the distance, the stapled pages fluttering like broken wings and spinning askew. This is how much I care.
“You will see our new terms, Master Tidinic,” Petr said, finally pulling away the glove to reveal the glint of steel beneath. “You have exactly seventy-two hours to respond, before we lift off.”
As Petr stood abruptly, turned and moved away with his entire cadre, the shocked looks and uproar that erupted among the local merchants felt very satisfying indeed. Not even the squelch of his boot in a dung pile could dissuade him from his good mood.
A deal ready to seal and Sha out of the way momentarily. Now to find out what he could.
“Jesup,” he said, dismissing the rest with a nod, as they walked back into the morning, where the real stellar mass of the system moved behind sullen storm clouds ready to dump their heavy burden.
“ovKhan.” His aide attended him as usual, but his voice did not seem normal. Petr glanced at Jesup’s face, but could not find anything on which to hang his reaction. Ever since coming to this world, their relationship had become more and more strained. He mentally shrugged.
I will worry about it later. There is too much to do now.
“I need your help. I need information from Beta Aimag, and I cannot get it for myself. It would be difficult, if not impossible, for me to insinuate myself among their personnel even at the local bars they frequent. I take a single step into such a place, and they will clam up tighter than a Lyran fist over C-bills.”
Moving to the waiting hoverjeep, Petr pulled himself into the driver’s seat while Jesup climbed into the passenger side. He tapped in the start code, and the humming motors sent vibrations up through his body to match the keening pitch from without. Petr spun the small vehicle in a half circle, spitting out a small cloud of detritus, and then poured on the speed as they whipped down the road toward their encampment. The soft-top of the jeep was broken—in the open position—and he wanted to reach the encampment before the potential rain began to fall.
Raising his voice over the chill wind, Petr continued. “I know our personnel mix now and then.”
“Really? But we hate each other so.”
Petr laughed, the comment so Jesup; he was surprised to realize he missed the witty comments of his XO, regardless of their aggravation.
This surprises you because you are selfish.
The words insinuated themselves from the depths of his subconscious. He refused to listen, to deal with it now. If these words were true, there would be time to examine them, to examine his relationships, later. “Regardless of the hatred dividing Sha and me, I know it does not spill down the ranks. You may think I am oblivious to such things, but I am not. I know the lower castes mingle freely, and I am confident the same applies to many of our warriors. I
need you to start asking discreet questions.”
“And what secret mission, oh great and powerful ovKhan, have you tasked me with?”
The aggravation that rose at Jesup’s sarcasm felt familiar and comfortable—almost enjoyable. The voice within him laughed at the thought that he might miss Jesup’s attitude if it was taken from him. He swallowed to clear the grit of the road in his mouth.
“I believe ovKhan Sha had a secret rendezvous with the Jade Falcons.” A particularly large rut in the road caused the hoverjeep to slew sideways, and Petr missed the flicker of shock that washed Jesup’s features.
“Why do we care?” Jesup said. “It would be good to know what deal they might have landed so we can counter it, but why send me? You should be able to get that information just by talking with the lower castes, quiaff?”
“Neg. The lower castes do not know of it. Most of the warriors do not know of it. Why keep it a secret, especially from his own personnel?” Petr disliked giving Snow her due, but he continued regardless. “Considering how badly we proceeded in our negotiations, would not ovKhan Sha shout a deal with Clan Jade Falcon from the depths of space, quiaff?”
“Aff,” Jesup responded slowly, as though thinking his way through it. Petr flinched as a particularly noxious beetle the size of his hand splattered across the front windshield; it immediately sloughed off the anti-dirt film in rivulets of broken purple shells and almost fluorescent green pulped guts.
“It could be nothing,” Jesup finally responded, as Petr moved into the city proper; with so few cars about this early in the morning, he felt reasonably safe in opening up the throttle, shooting the little vehicle down towering mountains of steel (as if local law enforcement would stop them).
“Aff. But it could be everything.”
“Where are you getting this information?”
“That is not something you need to know.” Not even loyal Jesup would likely give Petr the time of day, ovKhan or not, if he knew where such information originated. If Jesup knew of the strange relationship he was developing . . .
“Oh magnificent ovKhan, I apologize if I have offended. This little one is not worth your trouble.” The man actually managed to turn and bow several times in the close confines of the hoverjeep. Once more, the words carried humor, and Petr warmed to the friendship.
Perhaps he could allow himself a friendship now, without diving into the deeper questions others had stirred up. Just until he found out what he needed to about everything looming around him.
“Then you will do it?”
“Aff, ovKhan.”
“Be careful, and discreet.”
“I am always careful and discreet, ovKhan.”
Petr looked at Jesup and found a wide grin plastered on the other man’s face. He was anything but. And they both knew it. As they flashed past the last of the downtown buildings and saw the tops of Delta DropShips in the distance, Petr knew he did not have a choice.
More important, he knew he could count on Jesup. Had counted on him, without a word of praise or recognition, for years. Though such was the way of the Clans—honor to the Clan for his service—Petr realized now there was another need.
When all of this is done, perhaps I can . . . recognize. The idea trailed out behind him as he raced into a new day.
24
Field Office, Halifax
Vanderfox, Adhafera
Prefecture VII, The Republic
8 September 3134
The final deal sat on his desk. Petr enjoyed ignoring it. Master Tidinic surprised him and actually waited the entire allotted time instead of turning it around the same day, which he half expected. Several days now had passed beyond the deadline of when he said he would make a decision and lift off-planet; Petr enjoyed letting the merchants swing in the wind.
Of course, there were other reasons he stayed on planet.
The fleeting pleasure sped away as quickly as it came, and frustration returned to gnaw at him. He had difficulty concentrating and could not bend his mind to what needed doing. Reports and reviews were beginning to stack up. Sickness, downtime, maintenance reports, personnel reviews, lost revenue: he’d be buried under a mountain of paper soon, if he could not regain his efficiency.
The impression of having all the time in the world when he left the Merchant House only days ago departed as quickly as Sha upon learning of the larger, riper markets likely to be found on Stewart. Now the force of time, each tick of each second, seemed to slam into him, rocking him with urgency. He could feel things in motion, great plans put into action outside of his control, and yet he felt nailed to the floor with iron spikes.
“ovKhan,” a voice said from outside the small, curtained office in the field tent. Though it managed to keep out most of the pounding rain, noises still easily filtered through.
“Enter.” He straightened up. Tried to hide his disappointment when he realized it was not Jesup. The man had reported in once, two days ago, to let him inform him that no leads had surfaced. Nothing since. Where was he? What was happening?
He knew you could not push such things too quickly, but he felt the need for speed.
saFactor Tia bowed into the room, her hair plastered to her delicate scalp, with rivulets cascading down her fully soaked clothing. Though he took a deep breath for a confrontation he had expected some days past, it dawned on him she did not carry the scowl that had tattooed her face for the past week. She actually looked slightly confused.
“saFactor?” He waved a casual hand for her to make sure the flap sealed tightly, then actually indicated for her to take a seat. “What is it?”
She reached inside her jacket and pulled out a small cube, which she carefully handed over. Confused, but willing to go along, he took the cube, pulled the data reader to the center of the desk, powered it up and slotted the cube.
After a moment’s disorientation of a three-dimensional projection spitting snow and hiss, the image of a Fox Clansman (Beta?) materialized: bald head, large ears and eyes and a mouth that wore a perpetual sneer. In a soft voice, the man began to speak.
“saFactor Tia, I regret to inform you I will not be able to make our meeting either this day or any day in the foreseeable future.” The man stopped, closed his eyes as though he wished to avoid his next words, then continued after licking his lips. “There have been several accidents, both within our compound and on the outbound Cards of Fate, all resulting in deaths. Though some might believe this simply to be a poor day for avoiding errors, saKhan Clarke is not so sanguine and has ordered all personnel to lift off-planet. He has decreed Adhafera enemy territory and we are to deal with any further security and safety concerns with . . . any needed force.” The man looked positively sick, but finished a last thought before the machine clicked off. “I hope to see you in the not too distant future, Tia.”
On another day he might have been curious about the relationship of his saFactor (a woman he would not have credited to care about any type of physical relationship that did not impact on the art of the deal) and a Clansman from another Aimag, but the news that all Beta personnel were lifting off-world took his whole attention.
“Stravag!” He slammed his hand down on the table, making the reader leap and tip over, sending the cube tumbling with the same urgency as his thoughts.
How, by the Founder, could he find out anything if they lifted off? He had been handed Sha Stewart, and now he would not get a thing out of it. Unless Jesup had found something. Anything.
“I know, ovKhan. I cannot believe the locals would stoop to this myself. They appear so peaceful and have treated us with respect. It is hard to fathom.”
For a moment Petr could not even place her words, he was so wrapped up in his own worries. Then their import bludgeoned through.
The locals. Accidents. He leaned forward and very carefully righted the reader, while reaching across to the edge of the desk where the cube had arrested itself before the sudden drop to the dirt floor below.
Savashri. Now he would los
e this deal as well. How many months sitting on this rock and now he might have to lift off without a single card left in his hand?
Could Tidinic or one of his cronies have put this into motion as a last resort to better their end of the deal?
He cradled the tiny cube in his hand, feeling the edges press against his palm, the slick of dampness from its travels here making it cool to the touch. He thought back across those weeks, about everything he had seen. To Master Tidinic’s rabbit eyes at the end. Minutes stretched. He knew he should order the liftoff of his own troops. He even considered leaving the trade document unsigned, lonely and bereft on the desk, as punishment for Adhafera turning against his Clan. But his instincts told him something else was afoot.
His mind fastened on that first monstrous possibility that had sprung into existence when he had learned from Snow that Sha may have met the Jade Falcons in secret. If what he believed was true (and he must verify his suspicions before going to saKhan Sennet again), then it was a small leap to accept that Sha would cause a few accidents to occur in order to eliminate dangerous loose ends.
Petr himself had occasionally removed an opponent by tearing victory from their grasp right in front of them. But occasionally, he removed his opponent another way.
Regardless of how closely they clung to Clan ways, regardless of their belief that the Clan ways defined them and made them better than their opponents, Petr recognized that Clan Sea Fox had been in the Inner Sphere long enough that “another way” had become an accepted part of the deal. When an enemy could not be removed through the standard trials and rituals of the Clan, other means could and would be used.
Galvanized, he lurched forward, as the idea fully formed. Sha had said the same thing when he visited Petr after their trial; Petr had rejected his words then, as they struck too close to his own history. Yet in retrospect, Sha had plainly told him what he would be willing to do, and Petr had failed to see it. Could not believe it. But now the truth rang like a ’Mech-sized bell hammered with an iron fist.
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