Agent X

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Agent X Page 18

by Morgan Blayde


  More of the white-coated men crowded around. Several of them munched bags of popcorn. Somewhere in the distance, circus music began to play. He heard a calliope mixing with the roar of a crowd. A spotlight caught him.

  But Elissa pulled his face back in line with her own. Her lips melded to his. Her tongue slipped in, dancing with his. He closed his eyes and lost himself completely in a moment stronger than all time and space.

  An eternity passed. Lorelei spoke, “Will you two get a room? That’s disgusting!”

  Chim broke off the kiss. Not because of the comment, he simply ran out of air. He stared into the gold depths of Elissa’s eyes until her gaze dropped, examining him. Her hand broke several seals on his contact suit, then glided over smooth flesh.

  The voice came again. “Oh, please, not in front of my tank!”

  Chim heard a tone of longing and envy bleeding from the words. Elissa moved, facing the core. With its mirror plating down, there was a clear view of the aquatic intelligence that controlled the Cassandra.

  Elissa threw back a response, “I’m just checking his wounds, you idiot.”

  Chim hurriedly interrupted the exchange. “I’m okay. The cuts are gone.” His shoulder wound hadn’t lingered either. “There’s not even a trace of blood.” He noticed that the white-coats were also gone, along with the circus music. He addressed Lorelei. “What about the rift? Is it—?”

  “Closed,” she answered. “The wound in space is gone.”

  “And Gunn and Lyne?” he asked.

  “Still dead. Some things are not so easily fixed.”

  “Chim,” Elissa caught his arm possessively, “I’m bringing the IMPERIAL DRAGON to pick you up. The Ranger and Orion’s Knife are going about their business, along with the fleet, except for Jourdan’s flagship. How much of this do you want her to know? She’s demanding a report.”

  “Tell her I’m on my way.”

  “Good,” Lorelei said. “I’ve lost my taste for company.”

  “Still planning on throwing yourself into the closest sun?” Chim asked.

  Elissa face went blank—too many conflicting emotions cancelled themselves out in her projection. “You’re going to...kill yourself?” she

  asked the core.

  “No,” Chim said. “She’s not. That was just grief talking earlier.” He took a step closer to Lorelei. If you were done with life, you wouldn’t have asked me for a name. Names are for the living, not the dead.”

  “You’re right,” Lorelei said. “Seeing the love you have for each other makes me believe that anything is possible. Perhaps, the wound in my heart can heal one day. But I’m done with the Imperium. They can have their precious ship back. There are too many memories aboard anyway. I’m going home to Ebon to live among my own kind.”

  “It’s probably for the best,” Chim said. “I’ll see that you’re allowed decommissioning without a fuss. It’s the least we owe you for a lifetime of service.”

  “Go,” Lorelei ordered, “before your kindness shatters me.”

  “I understand,” Chim said. He turned from the core and dragged Elissa away with him. “One day,” he told her, “we are going to find out who, or what, caused the rift, and there will be an accounting.”

  “It’s not a natural phenomenon?” Elissa asked.

  “I don’t think so. Before you showed up, I sensed a hidden presence, a mind filled with alien complexities. I think some other reality was trying to intercept our own.”

  “Are you going to tell that to the admiral?”

  “Hell, no, but I want the word out to all guardsmen. If another rift opens, were not just going into it—we’re going through it, in force, to whatever lies beyond.”

  “That could well be a one way trip.”

  Chim shrugged away Elissa’s concern. “So what? It’s not like anyone ever gets out of life alive anyway. There are worse things than extinction, and they need to be faced. Ask Lorelei. She knows.”

  INTERLUDE

  “There is no doubt that you have served the Imperium with valor and distinction,” the interrogator said. “In closing down the rift, you earned the respect of us all. Still, you set dangerous precedents that affect every world.”

  Chim shrugged. “That’s my job. That’s what we do.”

  A fresh interrogator replaced the last. “But you push the envelope vigorously and encourage others to do the same. There are voices—close to the throne—suggesting that x-class agents are too powerful, too autonomous. Our successes threaten those with more imagination than wisdom or faith. And then there’s the problem of the pleasure planet you left us with…”

  Chim frowned. “Oh, like that was my fault!”

  Multiple sighs assailed him from the darkness. The faceless voice continued. “You were the agent on-scene…”

  9. THE TANDEM GAMBIT

  The Xanadu corporate casino outside the spaceport was a gilded treasure trove. Massive, crystal chandeliers dangled in ranks from vaulted ceilings. Underfoot, carpeting replicated exotic wildlife patterns from a dozen worlds. Excited voices produced a constant oceanic murmur. Chim led Elissa through the vocal eddies, letting whim and whimsy set his course.

  The force of Elissa’s presence hit like a meteor strike, in sharp contrast to the glamour and glitz. Wearing a simple white silk gown accentuated with a white gold and sapphire necklace, Elissa ensured that most people would never remember Chim’s pale face. Her flesh seemed lit from within, bright and tawny, and her grip on his arm was intense as she greedily eyed the slots and the high tech computer games arrayed in endless rows.

  Chim found Elissa’s wide-eyed wonder amusing. “Someone would think you were a stranger to holographic effects and wrap-around sound systems.”

  “Oh, this is wonderful, Chim. Our first date!”

  “That’s only because you insisted on tagging along. I’m here on business. Remember? We have to find out what happened to Prince Morgan. He vanished from this establishment without a trace.”

  “I don’t see what the urgency is. There are half a dozen other princes wandering the Imperium, none of ‘em doing a lick of honest work. Don’t spoil the moment, Chim! I’m enjoying myself.”

  “I think that’s about to change.”

  “Don’t bet on it.”

  A pair of men approached in dark suits, with comm units behind their ears. Moving smoothly, continually balanced for instant response, they had security written all over them. Elissa provided names by tapping into the house computer system; “The older man, with gray at the temples, is Dobson. The younger man is Bentley. They’re local muscle.”

  “Thanks,” Chim muttered, stopping to let the guards close the distance.

  Dobson’s gaze was sleepy, but missed nothing. “What the hell are

  you doing with our security system? Something is blacking out our sensors and digital scanners every time they try to process you?”

  “I’m not doing anything,” Chim tossed his head toward Elissa. “Talk to the lady.”

  She smiled. “I’m a very private person.”

  Bentley joined the discussion. “What’s your game?”

  “You think we’re here to break the bank with illicit technology?” Elissa asked.

  The younger man responded with heat, “I would hope you’re not foolish enough to try.”

  Elissa’s smile never wavered. “If it will put your mind at rest, here’s my identification.” She didn’t appear to do anything but the guards suddenly canted their heads, touching comms. Chim figured Elissa was tight-beaming Imperial security codes directly to the house computer system, and that the men were getting the data secondhand. The guards evidenced shock.

  Dobson’s voice peaked, “You’re Imperial Intelligence?”

  That was true, as far as it went. Elissa’s data stream had, of course, omitted the fact that they were members an elite cadre supported by that organization as well as others. The presence of x-class agents on the scene wasn’t something Chim wanted widely known just yet. It wa
s why he hadn’t worn the exo-suit.

  The older man spoke in phrases separated by moments of silence, parroting words from someplace else. “I am instructed … to offer you … a suite for your use…along with every possible hospitality. Whatever you may require … will be provided on the house … compliments of the boss.”

  Chim raised an eyebrow. “And he is?”

  “Mr. Edge. He runs things here for the owner.”

  Elissa took a turn raising eyebrows. “And that is who?”

  Bentley smiled. “You wouldn’t come here without already knowing the owner of record.”

  “We know who’s officially listed on the title,” Chim said, “but we’d like to meet with the real owner, the shadow behind the throne as it were.”

  Bentley stared into the distance, listening once more to a broadcasted voice. “I’ll…have to get back to you on that.”

  Chim nodded moving away. “You do that.”

  He and Elissa strolled past ravenous slot machines that devoured credit from debit cards inserted by players. A middle-aged woman bounced excitedly on a stool as her machine disgorged a double fistful of tokens. Another slot player shot her dirty looks, as if the pool of available luck was seriously lessened by the win.

  Chim kept moving, murmuring, “She ought to quit while she’s ahead,

  but she won’t.”

  Elissa nodded. “You humans never do. Too greedy.”

  He shrugged. “Nature of the beast is to want what you do not have.” He changed the subject. “You know, I don’t think we should make it easy for our host to ignore us. Feel like trying out some of these games, maybe winning an obscene amount of credit?”

  Elissa squealed in pleasure. “Oh, Chim, can we?”

  “I think it’s the best way to move things along, but I don’t want you to win by overriding the game computers. Use your other skills.”

  “So, you want to make this a challenge for me? Fine. I’m up to it.” One game in particular drew her gaze, Six Star Slant. Players competed with the house computer, staring into a midnight blue holo-field displaying a silver cube gridded by intersecting planes. Each edge contained six squares. Two opposing edges contained crystal stars. The player’s stars were red. The computer’s stars were ice blue. Following the game was made interesting by the fact that the 3-D cube rotated in place on a diagonal axis.

  Chim knew this game. He and Elissa had often passed time with it aboard ship. The object was simple in theory. You had to get your pieces to the row occupied by your opponent before he crossed the board to fill up the spaces you were leaving. First one to finish the journey won. Movement was made more difficult by the fact that every other chamber was dead space, eliminating all but diagonal moves. The best strategy was to block the computer’s advance so that it lost time. This was the only way to win since the house always got the first move.

  “This game doesn’t pay off at the level we want,” Chim said.

  “True, but after I beat the thing once, you can program in a side bet against the house that I can’t do it twice in a row, which I will. Make it a very sizable bet. Then, we’ll take our winnings to a more challenging machine.”

  He grinned. “Great. Let’s do it. There’s a Six Star Slant opening up—a player’s leaving in disgust.” They went to the available machine. Chim slipped a cover identity debit card into the reader. The faint possibility of losing didn’t bother him; he’d never be broke. The amount of credit extended to x-class agents was staggering to the stoutest heart.

  Elissa deadlocked the machine the first game, then won the next two. Chim cleaned up on his side bet, and they moved on to a group game where a dozen players competed with each other. Stratospherically high-stakes ensured that there were open seats available.

  The casino didn’t care who won the pot. They banked their cut from the by-ins, and made cash off of side bets, projecting the probable winners by percentage points at station holo-screens. Chim sat down with Elissa, financing her play. He studied the game station’s display of the ever-changing odds. As an unknown player, Elissa’s place in the listing should have been low, but the house computer had taken note of her earlier performance and ranked her fifth. This caused the other players to stare speculatively at her.

  Chim entered a bet against the house’s champion, wagering a small fortune on Elissa.

  She rewarded his faith by leaning over and kissing him soundly. After that, she got busy.

  The game was Tandem. Players took turns adding to a sprawling thesis, building logic chains. The new chains had to reconcile with preexisting formula. Contradictory chains were eliminated by the computer. Currently, the thesis seemed to center around proving that fifteen angels could dance on the head of a pin. Fifth-dimensional mathematics was involved as well as quantum mechanics. The player next to Elissa tried to establish a correlation between sunspots and Karma as a side tangent, only to run afoul of an inverse-entropy clause entered an hour earlier. With a curse and sigh, the frustrated player left his station, busted.

  Elissa’s turn came. She typed in a simple equation involving subspace contortions and a specific wavelength of blue. The computer’s holo-display extended the group thesis, accepting her chain. This move, made well within her allotted time, moved her into third place, destroying the logic paths being constructed by most of the others on their personal screens.

  The next three players were eliminated. At this level of complexity, there was no one else willing to buy into the game. Chim doubled his bet while the house was still willing. Looking up, he noticed that Dobson and Bentley were back, watching the play with evident distress.

  Chim left Elissa, going over for a chat. “Nice place you boys have here,” he said. “We’re enjoying ourselves.”

  “Don’t have too much fun,” Dobson said. “It isn’t always healthy.”

  “Was that a veiled threat?” Chim displayed mild interest.

  “We’re only concerned for your health,” Bentley insisted. Trying to haul too much credit out of here could strain something.”

  There was widespread consternation from the on-lookers as Elissa’s turn came and she entered a new version of the unified field theory, expressed in terms of crystal harmonics. The holo-display cleared, dumping vast amounts of now redundant data. The house doctor was summoned as an elderly player collapsed, clutching his chest. Most of the others cut their losses, abandoning the competition, sending Elissa dirty looks.

  She studied the only other player, a raven-tressed rival wearing a silver foil cling-suit. They exchanged frosty smiles and rapier glances.

  Chim noticed that the security men were frozen in shock, staring at the display. “Breathe,” he suggested.

  “My, God!” Dobson said. “I have never seen that done before.”

  “And we’re just getting started,” Chim insisted. “Of course, if we had something else to do—like meeting with the real owner…” he let the statement dangle like bait and returned to Elissa. Leaning against her chair, he sub-vocalized a comment. “Way to go, my love. I think the management is close to caving in.”

  “Enter your last bet,” Elissa said. “I am about to defrag this lady’s hard drive for her.”

  Chim checked the house odds. Both players were evenly ranked. There was no favorite. He offered a side bet involving enough money to buy the entire planet out from under the Xanadu Corporation.

  The computer red-flagged the bet, waiting for a human judgment call. Bentley and Dobson hurried over with a new gentleman. Chim guessed this to be the general manager, Mr. Edge. He took one look at the credits involved and visibly paled. “All side bets are suspended,” he announced, “but play will continue unless a player chooses to opt out.”

  “What a dump,” Elissa complained loudly. “What a rip! I’ve been robbed! I knew I should have gone to the mecha-coliseum for the robo-wars.” Her voice spiked a little higher, “This spinelessness is simply outrageous!”

  Dobson opened his coat to display a holstered weapon to Chi
m. “You and the lady need to leave—now.”

  “If that happens,” Chim said, “It will cost you more than you can know.”

  The dark-haired player called over. “Leave them be. The house will accept their bet. No guts, no glory.” She touched her station and overrode the computer’s flag. Chim and Elissa exchanged meaningful glances; they’d found the owner.

  “Why don’t we break for a private drink before final play,” Chim suggested.

  The woman looked him over, and shook her head side to side. “Sorry, beef-cakes, you’re not my type.” Her eyes went to Elissa. “Now if the lady were to make such an offer…”

  “Do it,” Chim sub-vocalized.

  Elissa’s voice trickled into his ear from his comm, “But Chim, you know I’m not that kind of girl!”

  “It’s just a drink. I’m not asking you to sleep with her. Just try to be nice.”

  “Well—all right.” Elissa raised her voice to be heard by her opponent. “How about a small break? This is your place. You can buy me a drink.”

  Rising from the table, the woman laughed, locking the computer into stass-mode. “Okay then. Follow me.”

  Mr. Edge started to join the migration.

  A quelling glance from the owner fended him off. She sashayed through the crowd toward a frosted glass chamber, giving every indication that she knew she was hot and drawing attention. Inside the bar area, booths lined the walls, encircling frosted glass tables. Vid-globes hovered throughout the room. Stools were high-backed and hand-carved, lit by indirect blue lighting from the underside of the bar.

  “Quite an aquatic atmosphere,” Elissa muttered.

  Dobson and Bentley cleared patrons out of a large, corner booth.

  “Chim,” Elissa spoke for him alone, lifting her face toward a nearby vid-globe, “that thing is putting out a distort field. Our conversation here is going to be very private.”

 

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