Poison Agendas

by Stephen Kenson

  "It's about Midnight, isn't it?" she asked. "What is it with you two?"

  "As you know," Lothan responded, "Midnight and I share a history. Be wary of her, Kellan, for she isn't necessarily what she appears."

  "Oh? Then what is she, Lothan? Tell me about the 'history' you share."

  His face darkened in anger for a moment, then Lothan sighed heavily.

  "It isn't important for you to know our history. I can only ask you to trust me on this. I know." he continued as Kellan opened her mouth to reply. "I know full well how it sounds. I know you don't entirely trust me, and you're right to reserve your suspicions. But consider; if you won't trust me, whom you know, why then do you trust Midnight?"

  "Who says I do?" Kellan asked.

  "Don't you? Kellan, I don't need special powers to guess where you've been tonight."

  "You're not my father."

  Lothan's face and aura darkened again. "No. No, I'm not. But I am supposed to be your teacher, Kellan, and I need to teach you the hard lessons, as well as the easier ones. One of the hardest lessons to accept is that you can't trust anyone in this business."

  "Oh, you taught me that lesson, all right." Kellan shot back accusingly. "You taught me really well. But you know what? You say I shouldn't trust people, but G-Dogg helped me out when I needed him. Jackie, and Silver Max, and Liada haven't set me up to fail. Frag, even Orion trusted me enough to believe me when I told him the Ancients were being played by Brickman. Midnight hasn't given me any reason to mistrust her. In fact, the only person I've met in Seattle so far who has proved he can't be trusted is you, Lothan."

  Lothan's face remained expressionless. When it was clear that Kellan was finished, Lothan simply nodded. "You've made yourself clear. I'll see you for our next lesson, I hope. Good night, Kellan."

  Then the troll mage's astral form faded from view. Kellan stood for a moment in her small kitchen, hugging her arms close to her chest. A faint chill seemed to linger in the air; Lothan could provide a very long-winded explanation for the effect, no doubt.

  Kellan snorted. Lothan thought he knew all the answers. He was more than willing to give them to her, except when it came to the answers she really wanted. Like, why was he so interested in keeping her from associating with Midnight?

  Chapter 10

  Simon Brickman stepped into his office, and paused when the lights didn't come on automatically, as they'd been programmed to do.

  "Lights." he said, but the room remained dark.

  "I think it's better if we have some shadows, don't you, Simon?" said a voice in the darkness. Then the lamp on his desk flicked to life, casting a small pool of illumination on the reflective surface. The light revealed the slim, dark-clad form of Midnight sitting in his chair, feet propped up on his desk.

  Brickman closed the office door behind him.

  "It's not as if either of us needs that much light." Midnight continued. She swung her long legs down off the desk and stood, then came around to lean against the edge of the desktop. "We're creatures of shadow, each in our own way."

  "I'd ask how you got in here," Brickman said, stepping past Midnight and around the desk to his chair, "but I'm sure it will be in your regular security report. You do keep finding new ways around our system, don't you?"

  "As long as there's a way, I'll find it." she said. She slid up to sit on the desk, leaning in on one hand so she could turn and face Brickman. He sank down into his chair, the snythleather still warm from Midnight's body. He put his hands behind his head, leaned back, and looked up at her.

  "And what sort of game are you playing at now?" he asked.

  "Game? Whatever do you mean?" the shadowrunner asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

  Brickman smiled. "The girl, Kellan Colt, and this shadowrun of hers. You've already provided me with all the data there was to find on her, and I paid you for it. So why this interest in her, and why involve me in this run? I can only assume I'm throwing away good money on your say-so."

  "Possibly not." Midnight said. "As I recall, Ares Macrotechnology inherited a lot of contracts from United States military suppliers after the Ghost Dance War. Some of those contracts included disarmament of old military depots, didn't they?"

  "So? What if they did?" Brickman asked.

  "It seems to me that finding an old military installation, perhaps one Ares might have—shall we say overlooked?—might be worthwhile. Especially if it contains materiel or information the UCAS, the CAS, the NAN, or any number of other parties might find interesting."

  "It could also be an international incident if it's not handled right." Brickman observed. "You still haven't answered my question. Why the interest in this girl? You're not telling me you couldn't have gotten the information away from her if you really thought it was so valuable. Why are you letting her think she's calling the shots on this run?"

  Midnight smiled impishly. "I have my reasons." she said. "Let's just say for the moment I see considerable potential in Kellan—qualities calling for a suitable mentor to help bring her to her full potential."

  "You?"

  "Why not?" Midnight asked. "Think of it as my way of giving back to the shadows after they have given so much to me."

  Brickman's snort said what he thought of that idea. Still, he left it alone for the moment. It was clear Midnight wasn't going to give him a better explanation for her actions.

  "Well," he said, "just be certain my nuyen isn't being misspent. I expect a complete report, Midnight, and I expect you to remember who you're really working for on this run."

  "Oh, Simon." Midnight laughed. "You know I always look out for number one."

  * * *

  Lothan the Wise sighed deeply and opened his eyes. His usual meditation techniques were failing to calm his mind, and he was having trouble sleeping—not that he slept a great deal to begin with. He ponderously levered himself up out of the heavy, cushioned chair where he sat, ignoring the creaks and aches in his joints. He made his way from his study into his home's small kitchen, where he set the kettle to boil and poked in the cabinets for some tea.

  Curse Midnight, anyway! The elf was devious—Lothan knew that better than most—and she was certainly up to something. It worried him that he didn't know exactly what. Oh, she wanted the amulet, of that he had no doubt. Lothan had been quite surprised when he'd seen it around Kellan's neck months ago. Midnight had contacted him about the amulet ... it must have been nearly ten years ago. She gave Lothan a detailed description, never saying why she was interested in it, only that she would pay handsomely for information on its whereabouts. Lothan had all but forgotten about it until Kellan walked through the door of his study.

  Having seen the amulet and examined it for himself, Lothan knew even less about why Midnight wanted it. The object was clearly enchanted, but it was like nothing else Lothan had ever seen. It seemed to act as a power focus for Kellan, but there was more to it than that. It seemed connected to her in some way Lothan couldn't fully explain. It was more than just the bond between a magician and her magical tools, it was . . . well, he didn't have a name for it, and that bothered him, too. In all his years of studying magic, Lothan had accumulated a vast amount of knowledge. To have such a mystery right in front of him was both tantalizing and frustrating.

  The kettle began to whistle and Lothan absent-mindedly waved a hand at it from where he sat. The steaming kettle floated up off the burner and over to the teapot, where it tipped and began pouring boiling water onto the tea. Then Lothan waved it over to a cold burner, and shut the stove off with a flick of his fingers. He'd let the tea steep for a bit. The infusion of herbs might help to calm his nerves after his encounter with Kellan. He should have known he would find her so obstinate about the whole matter with Midnight. The elf had a charming way about her, as Lothan knew, but it concealed an entirely different nature.

  Once he had seen the amulet, he had considered contacting Midnight and earning the reward, but the talisman itself proved too great a temptation. If Mi
dnight simply lifted the amulet, then Lothan would have no further opportunity to examine it. For all the good it has done me, he thought glumly. Despite numerous opportunities to handle the amulet and to scrutinize the interaction between the amulet and Kellan as she wielded mana, he was no closer to unraveling the item's secrets than when he first saw it. Now Midnight knew about it, which he knew would happen eventually. If he had seen it, he was sure other people Midnight had contacted regarding the amulet had also seen it.

  But what was Midnight's angle? That was what Lothan couldn't understand. The amulet was within Midnight's grasp, yet not only did Kellan still have it, but Midnight was supposedly working with her on this shadowrun. Lothan had no doubt the elf could have snatched the amulet if she wanted to. The fact she hadn't done so suggested there was some reason for leaving it in Kellan's possession—probably the same reason Midnight was ingratiating herself with his apprentice. Was it the connection between Kellan and the amulet? Was it something Midnight hadn't foreseen?

  Lothan poured himself a mug of tea and idly stirred some honey into it, savoring the aroma and blowing on it before gingerly sipping the brew. He allowed the warmth and the taste to spread through him before returning to his study. He'd look again for references that might contain a clue to the nature of Kellan's little treasure. Lothan had done his best to warn Kellan about the risks she was taking. The rest was up to her.

  * * *

  Lothan wasn't the only one having a sleepless night. Jackie Ozone was working late hours, putting together pieces of a puzzle that formed a disturbing picture. Tracing Kellan's movements in the metroplex took some effort, but because Jackie had helped Kellan set up many of her resources since she'd come to Seattle, she had an edge. To most deckers, Kellan Colt was just another ghost in the machine, hidden in the shadows. To her friend and associate Jackie Ozone, she was at least visible.

  She'd assumed Kellan would abandon the whole idea of the run after being told Squeak's data was useless. It should have been that simple. Jackie didn't count on Kellan being so stubborn, or on Squeak turning up dead. That was what bothered Jackie the most: not that Squeak was dead, but that someone thought it was worth killing him. And that they killed him in such a way that it was obvious Squeak's death was no accident or random act of violence.

  Kellan thought it was poison. That suggested a professional hit, but who arranged it? Jackie thought she knew, and her conclusion worried her. She would expect her contact to tie up any loose ends, and if she hadn't sanctioned this particular clean-up operation, Zhade might have taken it upon himself to deal with the warez dood. Jackie had no doubt the toxic shaman was capable of snuffing out a life without a second thought. And ultimately, that was the problem. What happened if Zhade crossed paths with Kellan and decided she was an obstacle? No, not if. When they crossed paths, which they would, since Kellan was hell-bent on going on this run.

  She sighed, pushing her cyberdeck away and leaning back to massage her temples, trying to soothe away the persistent headache she'd developed. Not mentioning Kellan's involvement was supposed to keep her out of harm's way! But Kellan was putting together a team anyway. Jackie had turned down the run, and G-Dogg and Liada had turned down the run, but they couldn't refuse Kellan's requests for help in setting it up.

  So, what was she going to do? If she did nothing, Kellan and her team would have to deal with Zhade sooner or later, along with anyone else her employer decided to hire for this run. On the other hand, if Jackie told her employer about Kellan's involvement, they were likely to deal with her the same way they dealt with Squeak to make sure she didn't become another loose end. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

  If she couldn't prevent Kellan from taking on the run, at least she could try to keep her safe. She could make life a little harder for Zhade and, if she played her cards right, nobody would know she had anything to do with it. Jackie called up her address book with a thought and flicked through the menu, selecting a number. In an instant, she was connected.

  "Hey, Stella." she said when her contact answered. "How would you like to come out on top of a smuggler for once?"

  * * *

  "What the frag happened?"

  Crash glanced away, then met his leader's glare.

  "She was a mage." he said. "She hit us with some spell. ..."

  "But not before she was already out the door!" came the angry retort. "You had time to off her!"

  "She had a gun in my—" Keefer protested.

  "Shut up! I don't want to hear it."

  The Brain Eaters lapsed into silence for a moment. Their leader, a big troll called Boot, continued to fume. He was hacked off by the news of Squeak's sudden demise, but he was furious that four members of his gang had been rousted by the chica who did it, who then jandered off like they were nothing.

  "Who the frag is this slitch?" he growled to nobody in particular, pacing in front of the bank of trid-and flatscreens on one wall of the Brain Eaters' doss in Redmond.

  "We don't know." Crash said, answering for the others, who were too intimidated to speak. Several other gang members lounged around, alternately amused by the chewing out and glad they weren't the focus of Boot's anger.

  "I want you to find out!" the troll shot back, stomping to a halt in front of Crash. "I want a name, and then I want her dead! Nobody frags with the Brain Eaters and gets away with it. Nobody—"

  He broke off at the sound of a muffled protest, followed by the dull thud of a body hitting the unyielding concrete floor. The Brain Eaters turned almost as one toward the front of their hangout, some of them reaching for weapons, as a figure dressed in synthleathers and a tattered plastic slicker stepped through the doorway.

  "Oh dear." he smirked, twisting his scarred face into a hideous mask. "Have I come at a bad time?"

  "Who the frag are you?" Boot sneered, looking the intruder up and down.

  "I'm called Zhade, and I've heard some things you might find interesting."

  Boot waved off the other Brain Eaters, and they stepped back, tensed hands moving away from their weapons but eyes still focused on the intruder, alert for any sign of trouble. Zhade spread his hands apart to show he was unarmed.

  "What've you got?" the gang leader demanded.

  "Your boys got their heads handed to them by some girl." Zhade grinned, and Boot gritted his teeth. Word was all over the Barrens already. "I hear one of them got kacked, too."

  "So? What the frag do you care?"

  "I don't," Zhade said with a shrug, "but I figured you might want to know more about this girl and where you can find her."

  "Tell me." Boot grated, and Zhade held up a finger.

  "Not so fast. I can help you deal with this problem before it gets any worse. But I want something in return." A hellish red light glowed in the depths of his eyes, and Zhade smiled broadly when the Brain Eaters flinched away from him at the realization that he was a spell-slinger.

  Boot just returned Zhade's smile, revealing several gold-capped teeth in his wide mouth. He reached up, adjusted the red fez perched on top of his head, and adopted his best negotiating posture.

  "All right." he said. "Let's talk."

  Chapter 11

  Orion's phone rang six times before he answered it. " 'Lo?"

  "Rise and shine, chummer." Kellan replied cheerfully as she shouldered her bag and headed out the door.

  "Kellan?" Orion asked in a somewhat confused tone. "What the frag time is it?"

  "Time to do some biz, assuming you were serious when you said you would back me up on a run."

  That seemed to wake Orion up. "Yeah . . . yeah, of course I was serious." he said. "You got something?"

  "Meet me at Flavor in about an hour and you can decide for yourself."

  "Okay, I'll be there."

  Kellan snapped her phone shut and slipped it into a pocket of her jacket. Things were off to a start. Soon, there would be no turning back.

  The little cafe called Flavor was on the outskirts of Tarislar, the elven district.
It served a wide variety of herbal teas and some light vegetarian meals. A small cooperative of local elves ran it, and turned a reasonable profit from both local customers and people from uptown looking for "exotic elven cuisine" and an experience on the edges of the Barrens. The interior of the place was decorated in hand-finished wood beams and columns carved with entwining vines and leaves. They complemented the profusion of potted plants placed strategically throughout the shop. Tall windows let in the sun, which today decided to show itself in favor of the thick gray pall of clouds, smoke and ash often hanging over Puyallup.

  Kellan found Orion waiting for her in a booth when she arrived. She ordered a cup of hot tea and grabbed one of the warm rolls from the basket in the middle of the table, savoring its smell as she broke it open and took a bite. Though she'd clearly woken him up with her call, Kellan saw that Orion looked completely awake now, sipping from a steaming mug he cradled in front of him on the polished wood table.

  "So you've got something." the elf said. It wasn't a question, given their previous discussion.

  "Oh, yeah." Kellan said around a mouthful of bread. She paused for a moment when the waitress brought her tea, then she launched into a description of the past day's events for Orion, chewing as she explained. She told him about her initial meeting with Squeak, the data he discovered, and the warez dood's subsequent mysterious death. For the moment, she left out her meeting with Midnight, and Lothan's misgivings about the elven shadowrunner.

  Orion listened carefully to everything Kellan had to say, drinking his tea and eating a roll. When she finished, he set down his mug and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

  "So, you think this kid's data is legit?"

  "It has to be." Kellan said. "Why else would someone kack him for it?"