The translucent figure disappeared, leaving Clio staring at the container in awe.
The crate’s control panel ping was followed by a loud hiss as the side opened slowly. A rail extended from the opening, bearing an entire Aegi outfit—including a TEK, a SIG and an assortment of weapons.
“Fancy,” Booster whispered as he climbed onto her desk for a better look.
“That’s one way of putting it,” Clio said, stripping down to her subarmor. She left her uniform and standard issue Confederation Fleet SIG on the floor and removed the angel-class TEK from the rack. Its gray armored-plates were sturdy and held together by a tough, white cross-hatched mesh. The power-pack, helmet housing, and maglocks were the same color as the plates. The frame weighed much less than she expected. She slipped into the suit with little trouble, and when Clio activated the power core, it contracted slightly for a snug fit. She activated the helmet and smaller plates extended from the TEK’s high collar, unfolding over her face, creating a solid shell. The visor leant a slight yellow hue to her room, and the exoframe’s readings floated before her eyes like ghosts. A warning in the top left corner requested that her SIG be synchronized. She held the Aegis unit to her left forearm, and its bands flawlessly snapped around her wrist and elbow.
Booster jumped on the rack and lifted a long blaster.
“Careful with that.” Clio accepted it from him and clipped it to the maglock on her right thigh. She retrieved the phase rifle and weighed it in her hands. Clio liked how it felt and fixed it to the maglock over her right shoulder. She decided to leave the other weapons for the time being. “How does it look?”
Booster gave her the thumbs up. “Looks powerful.”
“I don’t know what half of these menu options are. It’ll take me some time to figure it out. I can’t wait to show Taza. He’s always boasting about how good his TEK is.”
“Taza?”
“He’s a friend…a teacher. You can come to the workshop with me later to meet him.”
“Okay,” Booster said with a shrug, but his tone told Clio he wasn’t too sure.
“Taza’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but you’ll like him.”
“Can I see Swigger too?”
Clio didn’t feel like seeing Swigger or even talking about him, but it was only fair to tell him the good news about Booster. “I have to go to headquarters now to set up a new set of scans in any case. Come on,” she said, opening the door to the corridor. “May as well go there now. Swigger should be at his station.”
Booster jumped from the rack and latched onto Clio’s shoulder.
She turned her head and looked at his fuzzy face as she stroked his head. “Just like old times.”
“Yes, old times,” he agreed.
Clio moved effortlessly as though walking on air. There was no comparison between the Fleet standard issue TEK and the Aegi angel-class. A sense of strength and well-being washed over her, and she couldn’t help but smile.
So, this is what it feels like to be an Aegis.
12
Out of the Dark
Taza pushed against the current of bodies that flowed into the subline tunnels on his way to the lively streets of Sentinel City. As he ascended the last few steps and emerged onto Starway Square, a warm gust ruffled his hair, greeting his senses with rancid fumes and sour sewerage. A discarded newspaper sheet wrapped around his leg, and he shook it off, muttering curses about Grimshaw making him leave Level Two. When Taza heard what had happened to the Captain at the Foster residence, he would have bet the man was as good as dead, especially given Zora’s prediction, but the Captain had turned out to be a tougher bastard than anyone thought.
The crowds thinned the further away from the subline entrance Taza got, but it did little to lessen the cramped, airless feel to the city. The wind died down and the stale atmosphere pressed down on him like some unseen force. Zora would tell him it was all in his head, but Taza suspected the city wardens had introduced it by design, though when pressed for an explanation, he couldn’t provide one. On the Sentinel, things had a way of happening with or without logic.
Sparse ground traffic hurried along with little-to-no regard for pedestrians, and thick streams of aircars and shuttles zipped between towering gray skyscrapers, carrying the more fortunate high above the city smog.
Taza turned a corner onto Izmark Way, one of the city’s main thoroughfares, stretching for miles from one station wall to the other. He was about to cross a junction when a ragged Yalore reached for him, begging for money. Taza slapped the old man’s hand away, and on seeing the black infection eating at the beggar’s skin folds, was glad for his gloves.
“I’ll give you money. Just stay back.”
The Yalore withdrew a half-step and cupped his hands as he groaned with delight.
Taza scooped a handful of credits from his coat pocket and half threw them at the man before hurrying across the road, eager to get away.
On the other side of the street a ragged Shanti preacher with long braided locks stood on a makeshift platform—cobbled together from crates and old packaging—yelling about the imminent return of the Old One and the end of all life in the galaxy. He read from some holy book, his voice carrying with the help of vocal amplification implants.
A passerby muttered something about Shanti fanatics as Taza pressed on toward Andromeda Avenue, keeping his head down for fear of being recognized. He assured himself that no one would remember what he looked like let alone who he was, but Taza wasn’t taking any chances. There was no telling how the authorities would react if they learned that one of the foremost agents, they presumed dead, was actually alive and kicking. The Sentinel Intelligence Agency concerned him the most. They’d not take one of their operatives returning from the dead lightly. On top of that, numerous officials likely still believed that their secrets had died with him in the staged explosion, almost a decade before.
Those people would want this particular ghost from the past dead again as soon as possible.
He crossed another road and sneaked a peak at Izmark Bridge a little over a hundred yards ahead. The towering statue of Izmark—the first High Minister, eternalized in his royal livery—brought back a flood of memories. It didn’t seem like so long ago that Taza had worked at the SIA Sentinel Square offices on the other side of the bridge, yet, it somehow also felt like a lifetime ago. He traced the lines of Sentinel Tower, on the other side of the river, as amazed as ever at the building’s size. It dominated Sentinel City—also known as Level One—reaching all the way to the solar plates on the Sentinel’s ceiling where the air shimmered blue like a planetary sky.
Distant shouting erupted and a line of SenSec agents appeared from behind a row of buildings on the waterfront. Their tall transparent shields aimed at the surging crowd that steadily pushed them backward past Izmark’s monument.
Damn protests are getting bigger every time I’m up here.
The protesters chanted as they waved their placards and banners, imagining someone might listen to them. Taza was relieved he wasn’t heading in that direction. Their droning grew clearer as they turned down Izmark Way instead of cutting across it like Taza had expected.
Shit. His eyes darted along the street looking for an alternative route.
“Down with the one percent!” Their calls rolled down the avenue, echoing off the buildings. “All lives are equal!”
Taza quickly checked his SIG and found an alleyway that headed in the general direction of Grimshaw’s office. He shoved past a cluster of curious onlookers clogging up the sidewalk and slipped into the shadows between two commercial blocks just as the marching protesters spilled onto the street. The racket dulled to a din as Taza navigated further into the maze. He stumbled upon three homeless Shanti warming their hands over a barrel fire. One regarded him with suspicion before whispering to his companions. The tallest of the three stole a glance at Taza and turned to the others, shaking his head.
Smart guy.
He pulled himself over
a wired gate, leaving the trio to their business, and slid down a mountain of trash. He surveyed the large courtyard. Five structures shared the dumping ground. Two makeshift huts rested against the base of one building, but there was no sign of life. He figured they probably belonged to the homeless guys he had just passed. The last thing he wanted was to stumble on a crazy person’s humble abode or find himself on some street gang’s turf.
The wind picked up again and another warm breeze wafted the yard’s stench around Taza’s face. He tucked his nose under his jacket and double checked the coast was clear before hurrying across the open space.
The illustrious Sentinel City. The place the rich like to call Level One. Promises the universe and delivers garbage.
Taza sprang over a rickety fence, relieved to put the smell of the dump behind, and wound through another section of maze. He eventually stopped beneath the dull, gray slab that made up the rear of Grimshaw’s place. Taza drew a silver flask from inside his coat and took a swig of raw Sildion brandy. Comforting flames spread into his bones, temporarily burning away regret and numerous dark thoughts. He hadn’t drunk since Zora had brought him back to the Overways, but ever since she left on assignment, his demons had found a new lease of life. Being trapped on the Sentinel and weighed down by the Chimera problem hadn’t helped matters, not to mention Minister Straiya getting her dirty claws on Clio. Knowing there was nothing he could do about any of it only made him feel worse. At least the kid’s spirits had lifted since her monkey friend had returned, though the creature hadn’t exactly taken a liking to Taza.
Best I can do is keep my head down and keep going. We’ll get off this dump at some point.
Taza drew one more sip before tucking it away and straightening himself. He rounded the corner of the nondescript building and stopped dead in his tracks.
About twenty feet ahead, a reporter in a skimpy, red dress and heels was interviewing a passerby.
Taza slowly made his way toward the side-entrance. If he was caught on camera, someone from his past might recognize him. That was something he preferred not to add to his growing list of problems, especially since every other problem would pale in comparison. He swiped his key, and the door clicked and unlocked as Grimshaw had promised. The door closed behind him, and he was relieved to be inside.
A guard under the stairwell watched him climb the first set of steps without comment. Grimshaw had come good on his word again. Now if only the bastard can get me off this hell hole like he originally promised.
Taza climbed to the fifth floor and slipped into the rarely-used hallway behind Grimshaw’s office.
“Hey!”
Taza jumped and reached for his blaster as the voice called from behind. He turned to find a familiar face, though that didn’t make him any less tense.
“Clio,” he muttered. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Her white and gray TEK gleamed under the ceiling lights as she approached, Booster perched on her shoulder as always. “What are you doing, sneaking up on me?”
“Jumpy as always, old man,” she mocked. “What are you doing in Sentinel City?”
“Grimshaw wanted to see me in person. Said it wasn’t safe to speak over the comm system.” He tried not to give too much away. Not that he didn’t trust Clio. Taza simply didn’t know how much Grimshaw wanted to keep things under wraps.
“Sounds serious,” she said, concern edging into her voice.
“When isn’t the guy serious?”
Booster squeaked and Clio laughed, the sounds bringing a smile to Taza’s lips. “The Captain has his moments, but he always has had a stick up his ass.” She looked down the stairwell, making sure no one was coming. “What if someone sees you?”
“Trust me,” he said, knowing he was the last person anyone should trust. “I wouldn’t have come here unless I had to.”
“You’re the Captain’s bitch, after all,” she teased, giving Booster a high-five.
“That makes two of us.” Taza countered, playing along. He and Zora had taken Clio into their confidence.
Booster chuckled at Clio’s expense.
“Touché,” Clio admitted.
“How is the Captain anyway? I haven’t seen him since before the incident.”
“He’s in a lot of pain. He tries to hide it, but I can tell. A nurse comes three times a day. Annoys the hell out of him,” Clio added with glee.
“He’s made a fast recovery.”
Clio lowered her voice and leaned closer. “Bastard doesn’t know when to stop.”
They shared a quiet laugh.
Taza scratched his stubble. “I need to get going, but we should catch up later.”
“Training’s tonight, I got it.”
“I don’t mean training. I mean grab a drink at Equinox or something.”
“Zora’s barely been gone a week and you’re already asking me out on a date?” Clio feigned shock.
“I know you like us older men, kid, but you’re not my type.”
She punched him in the shoulder. “You couldn’t handle me, anyway.”
“I don’t doubt that.” He smiled wryly. “It would be good to talk though. Things have been non-stop lately.”
“I’m supposed to be running checks after training, but I’ll see if I can work something out.” Clio gave a mock salute and Booster copied. They returned to the building’s main atrium, leaving Taza alone with his thoughts.
Damn Zora, putting all this shit on my shoulders. Life would have been so much easier if she hadn’t asked him to keep an eye on so many people. He sometimes wondered if he wasn’t just another pawn in whatever game she played; maybe he was nothing more than a glorified babysitter. It was hard to tell with Zora. One minute she was full of affection, the next she would become withdrawn, often giving him the hard shoulder. Then she would spend prolonged periods away and Taza wouldn’t hear from her for days—sometimes even weeks.
He carried on, resisting the urge to drink more brandy, and arrived at Grimshaw’s office. He knocked on the door and it slid open almost instantly.
Grimshaw sat behind his desk, his folded wheelchair resting on its own in one corner. He wore an Aegis TEK identical to Clio’s save for the captain’s badge on his breastplate and shoulder-pad. He looked much paler than the last time Grimshaw had seem him in Zora’s workshop.
Taza stepped through and the door closed behind him. “You’re out of the chair already?”
“Can’t stand the damn thing. Slows me down.”
“Sometimes we need to slow down when we’re recovering.” Taza said, trying not to come across as patronizing.
“You sound like that damn nurse Straiya’s office keeps sending over here like I’m some kind of invalid,” Grimshaw grumbled. “But we’re not here to talk about my health. We’re here to talk about another job I have for you.”
Taza did his best not to sigh. Here we go again.
13
Another Favor
Grimshaw stretched his neck to work out a spasm in his shoulder where the Thandrall assassin had stabbed him four days previous. The regen treatment had stitched the muscle, ligaments, and bone back together, but Doctor Roshi had warned him that it might still hurt if not given enough rest. Grimshaw’s problem was he didn’t have time for rest. Sentinel City was putting on their annual celebration later that day. Hundreds of thousands would gather for the festivities in various points across the city, and most of the influential people on the Sentinel would observe the commemoration at Sentinel Square. It was hardly practical with an assassin on the loose and who knew what other resources Chimera had at their disposal. No, Grimshaw couldn’t rest. He would have to suffer through the next few days.
It was typical that the injury would flare up again as Taza arrived.
“Are you sure you shouldn’t be resting?” the investigator said.
“The Aegi regen chamber they put in me didn’t even leave a scar.” Grimshaw was getting tired of everyone pointing out that he shouldn’t have left the
care center so soon. “Apparently it’s all in my head.”
Taza raised an eyebrow.
Grimshaw explained. “I’m told that pain usually lingers after a psi-assault, but that it’s more psychological that anything. They gave me mind exercises to counter the problem.”
“Of course.” Taza shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him one way or another.
Grimshaw decided to move the conversation in another direction. “The Council insists on going ahead with their damn ceremony at Sentinel Square, and I’ve got a bad feeling about it. As does Straiya, but they won’t listen to her either.”
“They’re stuck in their ways, even during times of unrest. If anything, uncertainty has caused them to become more head-strong than usual.”
Grimshaw hammered his desk. “They’re damn fools.”
“You won’t get any argument from me on that point.”
“The Shanti are as good as in the throes of civil war and refugees are flooding the Sentinel when it’s already stretched to its limits.” Grimshaw realized he was tapping the desk the way he did when stressed. “We’ll have riots soon, and that’s before we even get to Chimera.”
“I noticed quite a big demonstration on the way here. There must have been ten thousand in attendance if not more. Speaking of our Chimera friends,” Taza added. “Any developments?”
“Evans seems a lot more focused since Booster’s return and Straiya has given her Aegi server space to work with, but she hasn’t found anything yet. You seem to be putting her through her paces,” Grimshaw pointed out.
“The kid’s bright, but everyone needs time away from their work,” Taza said. “Otherwise, their work tends to suffer.”
“Of course.” Grimshaw nodded, accepting Taza’s point. The ex-archagent was right. Grimshaw thought that maybe he was overdoing it a bit. “How is her training going?”
The Galactic Sentinel: Ultimate Edition: 4 Books with 2000+ Pages of Highly Entertaining Sci-Fi Space Adventure Page 46