Selena

by V Guy

  Malik huffed. “I’m getting stiff.”

  She chuckled, mimicking his encouragement. “It’s only one day. Certainly you can endure that long?”

  “Your bedside manner needs improvement.”

  She guffawed. “Come see me when the sessions are complete.”

  The next three initiates were polar opposites to the twins: cheerful, cooperative, and unreservedly affectionate. An abductee followed those three, obsessed with revenge. A cheerful institute woman came next. During the successive session a vengeful victim expressed particularly strong demands for satisfaction. Malik retrieved another meal after their session and went to the infirmary, where Evelyn was ready and waiting.

  “It appears I’ll be going on a killing spree when we’re done,” said Malik. “I’m planning executions as we speak, and the women want to help.”

  She smiled. “When is there time? I thought you were healing captives?”

  “It’s part of their recovery.”

  “Holistic,” said Evelyn, moving to examine his extractors. “Don’t leave a stone unturned, or a useless person, unburied. How are you feeling?”

  “My mind is clearing, but a darkness has formed.”

  She frowned. “Darkness?”

  He seemed resolved to his future as he lay on a newly projected operating table. “My ability to sense danger is returning with the nanobots’ departure. Trouble awaits.”

  “At least now there’s a method of measuring it.” Evelyn examined the monitor. “You have some budding.”

  Now he frowned. “Show me.”

  Evelyn pointed to four different growths in his torso. “These will require incisions; we can go in tomorrow, since there will probably be others to remove as well.”

  A pained expression on his face was followed by one of determination. He closed his eyes, concentrated, and lit a shielded breach at his fingertips. Four flares of light later and the growths were gone.

  Malik’s eyes smoldered. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  32: Errands

  Day 767: Pathfinder

  “Where to this weekend?” asked Evelyn, smirking. “We may have a few hours free.”

  Malik’s Friday return was a wet one; a spring storm dropped a torrent of rain onto the spaceport. Li brought towels while a contingent of curious listeners awaited the weekend’s plans.

  Nerve trimming on the initiates had been started on Newday and would extend over the weekends within Evelyn’s schedule; two additional evenings were necessary to fully rid his system of the nanobots, and a few more nights of node self-removal followed. Trips had been taken to investigate more of Kroes’s agents, and St. Gale had made requests for Malik to investigate three of Dril’s contacts.

  Malik paused in the entry passage, toweling water from his body. “A return to Salient, numerous financial institutions to visit, and a personal stop. Plus, infirmary operating steps for the last week of nerve trimmings need review.”

  Evelyn stayed by his side. “You’re ready to try again?”

  He accessed the cooler and withdrew a meal. “My system is clear, and the jumpers can’t teach me anything further.”

  “The plan?” asked Arturo.

  Malik stopped eating. “Our surveys of ship facilities indicated only the most prestigious and highly rated repair and servicing yards were chosen, implying a wealthy patron or an industrial sponsor. Their service records indicate a solid void when this customer would have used them, but I expect their financial records were spared. Account numbers related to those services will allow us to correlate the business deposits with the mystery customer. Those same accounts may have been used in less critical purchases, and those transfers could lead us to their owner.”

  “That’s considerable uncertainty.”

  “There’s also the matter of the responsible hacker. I recognized the man’s digital signature, but he might be even harder to locate in the real world. Considering their thoroughness, I expect he’s dead.”

  “Our roles?”

  “You’ll be doing the breaking and entering without activating alarms or leaving footprints. Network tapping is normally preferred, but that creates a trace. The records may also require physical access.”

  “How many institutions?”

  “Twenty.”

  “You don’t ask much,” said Borislav, stepping back. “Intrusion procedures could need updating. Access policies occasionally get upgraded.”

  The three men left, deep in a shared, mental conversation.

  Ileana took their place. “Are we okay to leave? Am I legal?”

  Malik nodded. “Every initiate has credentials and histories. Particular destinations would require additional backstories, but yes. I could get everyone established somewhere.”

  She smiled in satisfaction. “I’ll ensure your next appointment is timely.”

  “What’s the other stop?” asked Evelyn after she left.

  “To talk to a collector called Fael,” he replied. “There are many valuable items at Catricel. They could use a good home.”

  “Why choose him?” Is he special?”

  “In investigations years ago, I discovered a connection between him, Martin, and the ship. He might be willing to part with information via an exchange.”

  “We’re supposed to be on Evaline; can he be trusted?”

  “I believe he’s connected to Serena and Selena,” replied Malik, pensive. “I don’t think he’d endanger them.”

  A sardonic smile grew on her face. “Just when we’re finally getting a handle on things, you want more?”

  Malik made a crooked smile. “Just when.”

  They spent time in five different systems, and arrival in the last one placed them in the vicinity of one of the largest private crafts ever built. This massive, passenger-liner-sized craft was protected by two flights of interceptors, layered shields, defensive weaponry, sensors, and an extensive crew for maintenance, service, and security.

  Malik positioned the ship near of one of the hatches, floated through space to slip invisibly through the shields and sensors, and broke hatch encryptions. He moved unseen through the ship and arrived at his destination, easing into a spacious chamber full of exhibits similar to those found in Catricel’s palace.

  In the center of the room on the couches sat a dark-haired man deeply engaged in conversation with a holographic projection. A long conference call followed. He next chatted with an attorney. A personal assistant was always present, providing snacks, beverages, and any other sundry he might desire.

  Malik had stealthily examined the art and novelty collection, waiting until the lawyer disconnected. “May I have a word with you?” he asked with smooth, harmonic words.

  Idris Fael turned in surprise. His second shock came when he saw Malik’s full reptilian form. He jumped to his feet and glanced at his assistant for support, but the standing man’s eyes were closed in slumber.

  “Please don’t call anyone,” said Malik. “If I wished to hurt you, you’d already know; I went to great lengths to only be seen by you.

  “I’ve come across a sizeable collection of artifacts, some of them are priceless, and they all need good homes.”

  Fael stared back in disbelief, his shock and sudden fear transitioning to awe and admiration. His heart was reluctant to slow, and he made a deliberate effort to calm himself. “I’d offer you a seat, but, well…” He shrugged and gestured to the couches. “Yours is a most intriguing offer. Can I get you anything? Refreshments?”

  Malik shook his head in astonishment, smiling slightly as he approached the square of couches. “It’s been a long weekend, and my time is limited.”

  Fael continued to stare, behaving as if he were in the presence of an impossibility. He tore his eyes away with difficulty, looking at his empty glass in disappointment. A glance at the sleeping man deepened his anxiety. Malik made an acquiescing shrug, disappeared into his camouflage, and the personal assistant awakened, awkwardly realizing the failure of sleep
ing on the job.

  To avoid embarrassing his friend or behaving as if he’d witnessed his failure, Fael waited a few moments. “Walter, would you bring me a fresh glass and two bottles of Number Twenty-Two? And a pitcher of cold water?”

  His assistant made the request and was dismissed after the beverages arrived. Malik disabled his cloak with the rich collector staring incredulously at him.

  “He was sleeping while standing,” said Fael. “How’d you do that?”

  “People’s nervous systems are like assemblies of wires. Send a signal down the correct conduit and you can trigger or prevent actions.”

  Fael nodded, as one might when appreciating fine music. “Why are you here?”

  “You’re well known, and your tastes are documented.”

  “I’m not the only one.”

  “You may have particular interest in particular items.” Malik glanced around the room. “I’m willing to acquire them as payment for information.””

  The man straightened. “What kind of information?”

  “Information related to Martin, Selena, and Serena Rose.” Malik paused, sensing the tension within Fael. “You know about them.”

  The blood drained from the Fael’s face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Malik made a low rumble; the man’s deception was loud in his mind. He motioned around the collection. “The other Sister statue is on Catricel, as well as another one of the Dalite series of paintings. How many secrets are they worth?”

  “I’ll call security if you don’t leave.”

  “There are numerous other historical objects and works of art that might be of interest.”

  Fael’s interest was piqued, even as his wariness persisted. “Condition?”

  “Excellent.”

  “Nobody goes to Catricel. It’s quarantined.”

  “I’m a gemie, a permanent life-certificate holder, and the perfect ‘nobody’ for the job. Catricel doesn’t frighten me.”

  Fael gave him a long look. “Anything else?”

  “Martin and the girls.”

  The collector’s visage hardened. “You’re supposed to be on Evaline. If you leave now, maybe I’ll be disinclined to spread that fact.”

  Fael’s resistance, coupled with his reputation, caused Malik hesitation. The man knew about the girls but of a greater concern was his knowledge of Malik—He could be pricier than Kroes.

  “I am sorry,” said Malik, advancing. Through his influence the surveillance looped and the collector froze. Malik fished an interface from his pack.

  Fael’s eyes widened, but no protest was made—his voice was stolen.

  “You’ll not remember a thing.”

  Walter returned with additional refreshments after Malik’s departure to awaken his sleeping boss. “Should I cancel the rest of your appointments?”

  Fael straightened, blinking numerous times in confusion. He shook his head. “I don’t know what came over me, but I’m good.”

  The assistant looked to the hatch. “Did you have a guest?”

  “No…” said Fael, pouring himself a fresh beverage. “Suddenly my mind is on the girls and their mother.”

  Walter nodded. “Why not simply inform the creature where she is? It healed Serena; it could recover Selena sooner as well.”

  “I’ve no doubt, but my involvement could alter the process. I like watching them.” Fael made a conniving smile as he knotted his fingers. “I want to see it happen, untainted.”

  ***

  Malik took care in his return to the airlock. After venting the air, he exited the large vessel and thrust himself toward his cloaked ship. Pathfinder turned up and away from Fael’s luxurious yacht. Malik made entry through the ventral hatch.

  Evelyn met him. “Satisfy your curiosity?”

  He smiled. “Not yet. He knew about the girls; he designed their mother. She was something of an experiment.”

  “And what are we offering in exchange?”

  “He became resistant, even hostile at their mention. The information was involuntarily relinquished.”

  She froze. “You stole it from him?”

  “Fael made a veiled threat to expose my presence,” replied Malik, sensing her disapproval. He moved into the passage. “He won’t even remember me.”

  Evelyn touched his shoulder to welcome him back. “Renaissance is an impressive ship.”

  “It’s too much ship,” he said, moving to the ladder. “I’d spend the rest of my life upgrading everything and keeping it clean.”

  “If you could afford the ship, you could afford the maintenance crew.”

  Malik stopped and made a snort. “Good help is difficult to find.”

  Sessions awaited him. Completion of implant removal had raised every woman’s spirits, their progression through the counseling had opened an entire galaxy of possibilities, and their time with Malik had established a new level of internal confidence. One of the women graduated from the sessions, freeing his evening early.

  Pathfinder was an active place. A two-on-two game of Empire was in motion in the galley, six initiates were making a run in the simulator, the gym was full, groups of twos and threes traversed the ship, and aromas from numerous meals filled the air. These activities remained when the ship reached the last known location for the Salient system. Malik moved to his quarters for privacy.

  Mint and Pepper summarily appeared. Evelyn followed Malik and eased to the seat. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  He nodded in determination. “I can do this.”

  “Excellent. Then don’t blow us up.”

  Malik smirked. “You’d never know if I did.”

  Evelyn settled in to wait, and he momentarily watched before closing his eyes in concentration. The levity beyond the bulkheads faded as he focused and narrowed his mind to the immediate goals. His shield activated in his upturned claw; a breach was ignited. The solidity of his surrounding environment became a structure within his mind.

  A shaft of his thoughts, grounded in that strength, reached through the substrate and the swirling, underlying order within that realm, and Malik’s mind navigated deeply and directly toward the system’s primary gravity source. After establishing the center as the sun, he had Pathfinder skate to a position above the probable location of one of the gas giants. A distortion in the gravity sphere was spotted and marked, along with the second gas giant’s presence; their locations and movements were overlaid on his records of the system’s orbital bodies; they pointed him to the namesake planet, Salient.

  The position and orbit of the planet were confirmed, and he focused his efforts on touching the world. The nanobots’ absence had dramatically reduced the mental burdens. This allowed him to mentally span the breach to Salient’s position, but the barrier to cross was layered with considerable interference.

  When the channel between Nowhere and Salient was seeded with mass adjusters and closed, the gravitational conduit split uncontrollably. It had coiled, was narrowed, and had branched into thousands of overlapping paths. Channel barriers between reality and the substrate were sturdy ones; these particular convolutions produced multiple layers of them.

  As Malik pushed harder, he sensed the jumpers’ enthusiasm. One by one, the individual boundaries were pried open for his passage, but each success meant additional mental demands, and the jumpers became indispensable. Pepper and Mint, instead of maintaining their typical conservative approach, merged their transitioning skills to travel Malik’s created path. The vision ahead of him cleared, the final layers were pierced, and a picture of Salient became visible in his mind’s eye.

  Sudden was the jumper’s brisk movement, the absence of their anchors, and the loss of their support. His vision of the world became occluded. The barriers reformed, and additional attempts to restore contact with the world failed. He closed the breach, lowered the shield, and wearily opened his eyes.

  Evelyn sensed a change in the room’s tension and rose in expectation. “Well?”


  He scowled, observing the bulkhead where the jumpers once waited. “We worked together, we made a path, we reached Salient.”

  She smiled uncertainly then noticed the jumpers’ absence. His words were of victory, but his poise, coloring, and tone communicated defeat. “And?”

  “I’ve done what they wanted.” Malik stood and stretched, gazing in frustration toward the bulkhead. “They used me to facilitate their passage, were essential for my success, and now they’re gone.”

  33: Bazaar

  Day 771: Xist, Cheonia

  Clouds blanketed and rain fell upon Spring City, but within the Grand Bazaar, the weather was perfect. An overarching, protective, magical dome generated an afternoon glow underneath the roiling darkness, and a gentle breeze teased the colorful flags and banners lining the avenues.

  The shops, exhibits, and concerts drew a throng to pack the paths and passages. Armed paladins provided security yet were unnecessary. Music filled the air, the aroma of fresh vegetables and fruit flavored the breeze, and smoke wafted upward from cooking fires. Farmers loved the rains for their crops and the bazaar because it exposed people to their produce; city businesses loved the rains because of the income the tourist trap generated; and the people loved the rain because the bazaar was a spectacle they could observe and enjoy within the dry. Captain Kroes may have been ambivalent concerning the falling drops, but she uncharacteristically lingered among the masses as they moved among the performers, booths, ale houses, and markets.

  Kilam noted her arrival, observing as she moved and sampled the vendors’ wares. He expected her presence’s purpose was conversation, yet her leisurely stroll hinted that their meeting was also an excuse for other indulgences.

  Affairs of war and state occupied his attentions; he absently tracked her as she meandered through the crowds. Sampling of fruit stands, examination of vegetable baskets, tasting of various fares, and partaking of various wines delayed her arrival, and when she did show, she was toting a basket full of edibles.