Sword of Minerva (The Guild Wars Book 10)

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Sword of Minerva (The Guild Wars Book 10) Page 4

by Mark Wandrey


  With his integral GalNet node, Rick looked up Peacekeepers. He’d thought the GenSha meant to say Peacemaker. Everyone in the galaxy knew what a Peacemaker was, and why you didn’t want to get in their way. No, there was an entry for an entity known as Peacekeeper as well. What he saw somewhat resembled a Goka, the alien race many compared to terrestrial cockroaches. Only cockroaches didn’t carry guns and sharp pointy things hidden in their carapaces. Nor did the earthly insects have laser resistant shells, thank God.

  That was where the resemblance ended, though. The Peacekeeper was clearly a robot, lacking any visible limbs on its bug-shaped torso. It did have multiple laser emitters and apparently tiny built-in ducted fans for flight. The entry in the GalNet was educational as well.

  “Peacekeeper—disambiguation (not referring to Peacemaker)—refers to the autonomous AI-controlled law enforcement bots created and manufactured by the Dusman. In coordination with Raknar, they were used to maintain order on their servitor worlds. They were powered by internal micro-fusion batteries, capable of self-repair and independent operation for years at a time. Often deployed from orbit in drop-pods to quell civil unrest, the Peacekeepers were brutally efficient and tended to employ force indiscriminately, though it is commonly believed they were programmed for specific levels of force and somehow controllable from distant worlds. Billions were in use at the height of the First Republic. No functional units are known to exist, though some are on display at various museums or in private collections.”

  That does sound a little like me, Rick mused dryly. I’d like to see one someday. Had Sato taken elements from the Peacekeepers when working on his new body? Rick could see how the GenSha could draw some comparisons. At the same time, he realized the big furry alien could likely see right through Rick’s cloak. The alien either had an enhancement to his vision or could naturally see in a spectrum that allowed him to see Rick’s metallic details. He checked the GalNet again. Nope, no indication the GenSha could see much outside the visible light range, nearly identical to Humans.

  “Wait over there,” the elSha said to Sato, gesturing at one of the empty tables. The Kaa and GenSha opened a large toolkit and began working. As Rick followed Sato over to the table, he could see with 360-degree vision that the Pushtal followed the pair without appearing to do so. Sato sat in one of the two seats that looked nominally adaptive for Humans. Rick sat in the other, which let out an ominous groan of protest.

  Rick sent via his pinplants. Most pinplants had the ability to wirelessly communicate between users.

  Sato turned to Rick and appeared to be about to say something, then shook his head before replying the same way,

 

 

 

 

  Sato’s eyes got wider, and he turned toward the back room. The older man’s head jerked back, making it obvious he’d seen something. Rick sighed. At the same time, half the beings in the back room got up and left.

  He watched with his improved sensors, dedicating most of his attention to the back room as well as the perimeter of the burned-out merc pit. He was keyed and ready to go, half convinced all those who’d just left would rush in through the front door while the rest came in the back. But nothing happened.

  Sato asked, uncertain now.

  Rick observed for another half minute before replying,

  Sato mentally chuckled.

 

  Sato got a pensive look on his face.

  Then how do you know you can make better forgeries later? Not for the first time, Rick wondered if maybe he should quietly leave Sato to his own devices. The immediate feelings of guilt at such a thought embarrassed him. He’d still be a lab rat to an octopus if it weren’t for Sato. No, he had to play this through until the scientist found what he wanted, or at least what he needed. Maybe then Rick could go about finding what he wanted.

  His attention momentarily returned to the GenSha and Kaa working at their apparatus. The Kaa had a tube in one pair of tentacles, holding it to his mouth. What looked like venom was dripping into the tube, which he handed to the GenSha. Rick continued to observe in fascination as the GenSha used a computerized pipet to extract some of the venom and input it into a receptacle on the larger apparatus. Do they use Kaa venom in the creation process? he silently wondered.

  Sato was carefully watching the process now, which of course meant he wasn’t watching anything else. Rick increased his perception of the former merc pit interior, bringing himself to full awareness. He calculated this was the moment of highest risk.

  “We need your biometric signature,” the GenSha grumbled.

  “Sure,” Sato said and produced a data chip. “We’re both on this one.”

  “We prefer live data,” the Kaa complained.

  “I prefer you use the data I’m giving you.”

  One of the Kaa’s tentacles stretched out and scooped the chip from Sato’s hand, holding it up to the alien’s vision strip as if it were reading the device just by looking at it. Despite the being’s lack of facial expressions, Rick felt it was examining the chip suspiciously.

  “I don’t understand your reluctance to provide live data,” the Kaa hissed.

  “Could it have something to do with the fact you’re doing this in a burned out and abandoned facility with hired killers hanging around?” Rick asked. When he was relatively certain both were looking at him, he turned his head toward the three Pushtal, who suddenly stopped talking and looked up at him, realizing they were being addressed.

  “They’re just other customers,” the elSha said. Rick’s translator made the offended tones of the reptilian alien’s voice obvious.

  “Sure, only makes sense. Why wouldn’t they be hanging around? Not like having a trio of heavily armed notorious killers would be a bad sign for any potential customers.”

  “You call us criminals?” one of the Pushtal howled in mock outrage.

  “Being only a criminal would be an improvement,” Rick said with a laugh.

  All three Pushtal made a noise that sounded amazingly like an outraged housecat, which made him grin. Luckily, they couldn’t see his smile, or it might have caused a rapid escalation. As it was, Sato looked at him with some alarm.

  Sato asked over their pinplants.

 

  Sato cast a curious/confused look at Rick, but he didn’t say anything more.

  All three Pushtal came to their feet, flexing arm muscles and extending, then retracting hand claws. Good, Rick thought, let’s get this party started. He was a split second from drawing down when the GenSha spoke loudly.

  “Enough,” he bellowed at the Pushtal. “Get out.”

  “But you…” one said.

  “I said get out, now,” the massive bison-like alien said. The last word was bellowed so loudly a light rain of ash fell from the charred ceiling. “Come back in six hours.”

  The Pushtal were clearly confused by this turn of events, which furthered Rick’s conclusions. The biggest of the three gave Rick and Sato one last furtive look, then gave a hacking spit before turning to leave.

&
nbsp; “See you around, fur face,” Rick said with a growl. The Pushtal headed out, hurling curses back, many of which the pinplants didn’t translate.

  The elSha let them out, one eye on the exiting felines and the other on the GenSha.

  The GenSha looked away from the door and at Rick. Rick nodded to the alien, who huffed once and returned his attention to his Kaa partner. The huge snake-like being had slid the data chip into a slate, examining the data. His head came up and pointed at Sato.

  “You said two Yacks; there is data here for three.”

  Sato blinked for a second, then spoke somewhat hesitantly, “I’m sorry, I misspoke. Yes, I need three.”

  “Where is your other person?” the GenSha asked.

  “Why does this matter?” Rick asked in turn, glancing at Sato, who was staring off into space and blinking rapidly. He looked confused and possibly shaken by something. Again Rick wondered how stable Sato really was. The other man had said the idea for a new pinplant design had just occurred to him. Who has a random design simply appear in their minds? Taiki Sato, apparently. “You are being paid.”

  “Three million now,” the elSha said, both eyes focused on Rick. Clearly they were uncertain now who was in charge of the pair.

  “Naturally,” Sato said, and produced another chip for biodata.

  “We also want a million in small chits in exchange for another million chit,” Rick added hastily. The elSha’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “Let me see one of those credits,” the elSha said.

  Sato moved to hand him one; Rick intercepted it. He held the chit out to the alien, who took it, but Rick didn’t release it. The elSha tried to take it, but Rick’s hand could exert enough force to bend the metallic coin in half or crush the diamond into powder. The elSha looked up into his cloaked face with its glowing blue eyes and visibly swallowed. His point made, Rick released the chit.

  With a furtive look at Rick, the elSha inserted the chit into a handheld validator, a device made by the Science Guild designed to read the microscopic etching in the red diamond. Like serial numbers on old Earth currency, the etching was a unique identifier proving the diamond was cut and inserted into the chit, thus assuring it was a real one-million-credit chit.

  He’d never seen one, only heard about them. Merchants who routinely took large credit chits always had them, because the red diamonds enclosed in the chit were worth less than the face value. A century ago on Earth, a group of criminals had destroyed thousands of credits in low value chits to extract the diamonds, only to find out they’d gotten hundreds of credits worth of diamonds.

  The device gave a strangely modulated beep, and the chit was returned to Sato. The elSha made no comment, so Rick assumed it had passed muster, as he knew it would. While Rick had little of the time he’d spent in the Winged Hussars, he knew the Horsemen were an upright group and couldn’t imagine the ship’s safes being filled with forged credits.

  The GenSha and Kaa partners worked for just over 10 minutes to complete their tasks, then the reptilian held out three Yacks which, to Rick, looked identical to the one he’d had before…well, before he woke up in a lab.

  Sato accepted the three computer cards, and the elSha came in to hold out his clawed hand.

  “Let’s have the credits.”

  “Once I check the goods,” Sato said.

  “What, you don’t trust us?” the GenSha grumbled.

  “I trust you just as much as you trusted my credits,” Sato said dryly as he took a slate out of his belt carry pouch.

  Touché, Rick thought. Well played. Once again, Sato’s ability and savviness in the situation sent mixed signals. He hadn’t noticed the danger of the Pushtal but was astute enough to realize he needed to verify the fake IDs. In some ways, it made his job as the rogue scientist’s bodyguard more difficult, because he didn’t know at any time how capable his companion might be. Rick had already decided Sato would be less than useless in a fight.

  Sato checked the three Yacks, one after the other, with his slate. Rick guessed Sato had some sort of verification software he was using to evaluate the Yacks. When the scientist inserted the last of the three, he paused, staring at the screen.

  “What?” the GenSha demanded as Sato continued to stare. “They’re perfect, I assure you.”

  “They aren’t perfect. However, they’re serviceable,” Sato said, finally coming out of his reverie and removing the last card. “Everything seems to be in order.” The elSha again held out a hand, and Sato placed three one-million-credit chits in his hand, then after glancing at Rick, added a fourth.

  “We should charge you a changing fee,” the alien said as he went to a heavy case mounted to a wall and opened it.

  “We paid double your asking price for a simple rush job,” Rick pointed out.

  “Simple?” the Kaa hissed.

  “Consider it a small concession,” Rick finished, not deigning to acknowledge the Kaa’s comment. The elSha returned and began counting out piles of chits on the table where the Kaa and GenSha had worked. The GenSha was already doing something else; the Kaa might have been watching the transaction. Since they lacked normal eyes, Rick had no idea.

  The one-million-credit chit was broken into a considerable pile of smaller denominations, ranging from a single 100,000 credit chit, down to a formidable pile of 100s, and everything in between. Sato quickly made them disappear into the same bag he’d had the rest of the big value chits in.

  “Thanks,” he said and turned to leave.

  “If you’re caught with those, you better not finger us,” the Kaa warned.

  It doesn’t have fingers, Rick thought with amusement. “Or what?” he asked. “You think what you’d do to us is any worse than what the Peacemaker Guild Enforcers would do?”

  The GenSha gave a single, grumbling chuckle, sounding a little like a rock rolling onto one side, proving he’d been listening. The Kaa hissed something that didn’t translate and went back to his work. They were ushered out by the elSha.

  “Thanks for the credits,” he said. Sato nodded and moved out of the alley into the promenade.

  “See you around,” Rick said, spearing the little reptilian with his brightly glowing blue gaze. The elSha’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he slammed the door.

  * * *

  Sato’s mind was anywhere except the present. If he’d been in a better mindset, he would have realized how bad an idea this was. Thanks to thinking things through, they now had reasonably usable identification, and thanks to Rick’s on-the-spot work, they also had some small denomination credits. The latter was something he’d overlooked. Taking a Rick was a good idea after all.

  The parts of his mind centered on mundane matters guided his feet as they moved out of the alleys off Karma Station’s promenade and back into a more populous area. He didn’t keep an eye on Rick because he was confident his companion knew his role in their relationship.

  When he turned off the promenade, there was a short tunnel to reach their hotel. Since Humans only made up a fraction of a percent of Karma’s business, it meant hotels, restaurants, and bars catering to their species were rare, and often out of the way. This was no exception.

  “Hey, rich Human.”

  Sato almost walked right into the hulking alien. He came to a sudden stop and backed up a step before he realized it hadn’t been one of the two huge aliens who’d spoken, but the short one between them. An elSha. In fact, the elSha who’d handled the door where he’d gotten the fake IDs.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded.

  “I have these two friends who need some money,” the elSha said. “And I was thinking, hey, I know a rich Human who will be happy to help.”

  “Yeah, help us, rich Human.”

  Sato looked up for the first time at the other aliens, both half a meter taller than him, vaguely lupine in appearance, with sharp facial features, and more teeth than any being had a right to. “Besquith,” he said.

  “Nice of you to notice,” the other
one said.

  “Rick,” Sato said and half turned. Nobody was there. “Rick?”

  “Your weird friend is not there,” the elSha said.

  “Just let me past,” Sato said, trying to sound tough.

  “What?” one of the Besquith said. “You don’t want to help us?”

  “Yeah,” the other said. “We’re down on our luck, and a few million credits should fix it.”

  “A few million,” Sato said and laughed out loud.

  “You don’t want to help us?”

  Sato started to say something, but it died in his throat. It felt like a curtain began to descend over his eyes, one that blocked him off as a willing participant. Words came out, they just weren’t the ones he’d planned to say.

  He looked at the elSha and spoke with a snarl. “Why don’t you take your two pets for a walk before someone gets hurt.”

  The elSha took a step back in confusion. The Besquith took it more personally. “What did you say, you filthy little monkey?”

  “We should rip your head off and—”

  “Why don’t you try it, Efko-uf?”

  The elSha’s translator didn’t render the phrase immediately, because it was working from Sato speaking English. Suddenly switching to Besquith caught the computerized device off balance. So the elSha was confused when his two partners roared in anger and attacked without apparent justification. Straight up murder hadn’t been part of the plan. At least, not until whatever Sato had said had changed the plan.

  The curtain over his perceptions lifted, and he gasped. Rick was there, holding the shredded remnant of a spine in one hand, and drenched in blood.

  “Are you okay, Mr. Sato?”

  “Fine?” Sato answered, looking down at the…what, puddle of guts and gore? “Holy shit,” he said. “Where were you?”

  “I picked up our elSha friend here,” Rick held out the elSha by its tail. “He was moving quickly to get ahead of us. I knew he wouldn’t be alone, so I slipped away to see what they were up to.” He shrugged. “Took me a second.”

  “How did you track the elSha?”

 

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