Shadow Agents: The Benevolency Universe (Outworld Ranger Book 2)

by David Alastair Hayden

  “Easily so, if the station’s AI is running a suspicious actions algorithm,” Silky said.

  “After the way he stared at me, I’d rather take that risk. I’ve got a bad feeling about him.”

  “Look, the bouncer’s a bit dodgy,” Mitsuki said, “I’ll give you that. But otherwise, this is perfect. And it makes sense that a guy in an accident might want to relax.”

  Siv groaned. “Fine. You win. Silkster, tap into the station’s security feeds and monitor him.”

  “His alcove is just out of sight of the cameras, sir. I suspect that’s why he lurks there.”

  “Then watch the foot traffic. If anyone pauses to chat with him, ID them if you can, and then let me know about it. Also, keep up with the World Bleeder patrols and monitor any other suspicious activities.”

  “I can’t work miracles, sir, but I’ll do my best.”

  A buxom, moderately attractive Terran woman swayed forward. She was wearing lingerie that could almost make Mitsuki’s come-hither garb look conservative. She flashed an overly practiced, seductive smile and started to speak, but then blanched as she finally looked at Siv.

  That it took her that long to look him in the face said a lot about the caliber of this establishment. But then this was a space station serving as a transfer point for cargo and passengers, with an entry fee of only fifty credits, so he shouldn’t have expected much.

  The woman gathered her professional courage, and then took Siv’s arm, leading him down a corridor with closed, numbered doors to each side. There was no one else in sight.

  “My name’s Alarra, what can I do for you, sir?”

  “They’re always named Alarra, am I right, sir?”

  “What?! I have no… Why would you think that?”

  “Sivvy, you dog!” Mitsuki exclaimed.

  “Oh, I wasn’t referring to any of Siv’s exploits, Mits.”

  “Please tell me you’re not talking about my dad,” Siv replied.

  Without realizing it, Siv had paused, leaving the woman to tug on his arm.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “What? Oh. Yes, I’m fine.”

  Alarra raised a hand as if to stroke his cheek, paused then awkwardly rubbed the shoulder of his hazard suit. “Perhaps I can interest you in—”

  “A private room with a dose of Calm. That’s all I want.”

  “Sir, that’s a bit tame.”

  “Aw, come on, Siv,” Mitsuki said. “Get you some. You’ve earned it.”

  “No.”

  “I don’t mind watching.”

  “No.”

  “Fine, I can turn my back. And don’t worry about the energy drain on the refraction cloak. I’m sure you’d be done plenty fast.”

  “Mits, sometimes I hate you.”

  “Except by hate you really mean love.”

  Siv could practically hear her mischievous grin. He groaned. “No, I mean hate.”

  “You can’t see it, but I’m shaking my head. Cause it really is love.”

  “Yeah, what makes you think that?”

  “You love the Silkster, and he’s not half as much trouble as I am, and his snark is pretty much constant.”

  “Yeah…well…maybe I just like his snark better.”

  “Oh, please leave me out of this,” Silky said.

  The woman escorted him to the second to last door on the right. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?

  “I could use a drink,” Mitsuki chimed.

  “Two glasses of…whatever the best drink you have available that comes for free with the package I purchased.”

  A combination of peeved and disappointed spread from the woman’s face to her posture. Then she glanced at his face again and forced a smile.

  “Whatever you’d like, sir.”

  The room she unveiled was only twice the size of the captain’s cabin on the Outworld Ranger. Space on orbital stations was always at a premium.

  The furnishings were lavish in a way Big Boss D would have appreciated, only all the woods in the room were cheap veneers over plastic. Pillows in a variety of colors were piled onto a mattress covered with a rose-colored blanket and black silk sheets. Faux lanterns gave the room a soft, warm glow that did a lot to hide its wear.

  Siv flopped down onto the mattress. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll be right back with your drinks and your Calm, sir.”

  Siv noted the giant video screen on the wall. "One way?"

  “Of course, sir. Here at Downtimes, we take customer privacy seriously.”

  “It’s just a display screen and mirror, sir. And I’ve jammed it, just in case.”

  Siv checked the data in his HUD. “I’m not seeing any monitoring devices or signals coming from inside this room.”

  “Everyone comes here, sir. From visiting tourists to miners to this station’s managers. Privacy is essential for business, and if the station’s managers visit…”

  “Then the station leaves the rooms unmonitored.”

  He saw in his locator that the room beside theirs was occupied, but nothing in the data suggested the occupants were threats.

  Alarra returned carrying a tray with two drinks in surprisingly small glasses and an injection syringe. She placed it on a table. “Anything else, sir?”

  “Could you dim the lights, please?”

  “The room is voice-responsive,” Alarra replied.

  “Oh, of course,” Siv said, wanting to slap himself.

  “Obviously, sir.”

  “Shut it. I’m just nervous.”

  Alarra ran a hand down her neck onto her chest. “If you don’t want direct amorous contact, might I interest you in a show?”

  Siv shook his head. “You’re a lovely woman, but I just need a quiet, dark room and some Calm.”

  “Of course, sir. Enjoy yourself. And call if you need anything.”

  Once she was gone, Siv dimmed the room to a candle-flicker, and Silky jammed the door’s locking mechanism to keep Alarra out should she return unexpectedly.

  Mitsuki deactivated the refraction cloak then stood by the door and struck a pose. She ran a hand down her neck and onto her chest.

  “Care for a show, sir?” she said in a ridiculously over-seductive tone.

  Siv laughed. “Hardly.”

  “It’s just as well. You can’t afford me.”

  “I’ve seen pretty much all of it anyway. Modesty’s not your strong suit.”

  She took one of the drinks from the tray then plopped down onto the bed. “Take off that damn mask. In this light, you look like a horror show.”

  “Just in this light?”

  Siv pulled off the mask, placed it on the bed beside him, and took the other drink. He coughed after the first swallow.

  Mitsuki finished hers. “It’s space station brandy, Siv. What did you expect?”

  He held his glass out. “Do you want the rest?”

  She reached over, took the glass, and downed the rest. “Mind if I take a nap?”

  “Go ahead.”

  She stretched out. “If I wasn’t a little worried something might happen, I’d take the dose of Calm and unwind.”

  “Does it even work on you?”

  Some substances reacted differently on wakyrans than on humans. Alcohol, for example. Mitsuki could drink three times as much as Siv before she’d pass out. And she was immune to the effects of Kompel.

  “It gives me a pleasant buzz, about half what it would do to you. But I have to be careful. Calm, Awake, Aware, Friendly, and the like may be engineered not to be addictive for standard Terrans, but they have that potential for us.”

  Mitsuki curled up, tucked a wing across her body, and was snoring in less than a minute. Siv leaned back and tried to relax. But he couldn’t stop himself from mentally rehearsing escape strategies.

  “Sir, I have routed access from your Trellian account to Zayer Prime’s planetary bank. Any withdrawals you make here over the next three hours will be untraceable. After that, I will close and erase the Trelli
an account.”

  “How much do I have in it?”

  “Just over five thousand, sir. It was one of the newest accounts we were filtering your side earnings into.”

  Siv had accumulated a lot of wealth, and not just from the Shadowslip paying him. He also made money by selling off additional items he acquired in the process of fulfilling the procurement assignments they gave him. Using dozens of aliases, he had placed his earnings into dozens of accounts in dozens of systems.

  The most substantial transfers came from the Shadowslip, so they knew about those and could no doubt trace them. But he placed what he made on the side into smaller accounts, sometimes moving the money around, hoping they wouldn't find out. There was no way to be sure, though, because the Shadowslip had infiltrated people and data worms into all of the major banking systems and many of their affiliates.

  “How did you manage to move it over without any trace?”

  “I found a flaw in the system and exploited it like a boss, sir.”

  “Could we move money from other accounts into that one before I make the transfer?”

  “That’s too risky, sir.”

  “You’re sure this transfer will be safe?”

  "Certain, sir. Once I make the transfer, the system will— Sir, there's a problem. I just performed a detailed analysis of the last few minutes of video outside Downtimes and noticed something suspicious."

  “Play it for me.”

  Siv watched the three-second video scroll by five times before he noticed the signal. A pot-bellied man in overalls glanced toward the alcove where the bouncer lurked and made a hand gesture, his fingers splayed in the three horns of the Star Cutters.

  “Is that everything?”

  “That’s it, sir.”

  “No other contact between them?”

  “I didn’t detect anything else, sir, but if they’re using their chippies to send secure messages…”

  “Mits, wake up.”

  Mitsuki sat up groaning and rubbing her eyes. “What is it?”

  “Trouble. The bouncer’s a contact for the Star Cutters.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Silkster, play the video for her.”

  Mitsuki chewed on her lip then sighed. "Let's not panic, okay? He couldn't see me, and you were disguised. There's no reason to suspect that—"

  “Donkey balls,” Silky exclaimed. “Nasty, rotting, stinky donkey balls. We’ve been made. We’ve got five armed nasties heading straight toward us.”

  22

  Kyralla Vim

  Kyralla awoke startled, but then saw her sister’s smiling face looming above her. She sighed with relief.

  “You’re okay.” She grabbed Oona’s hands. “Right?”

  Oona kissed her on the forehead. “I am. And you’re going to be okay, too.”

  “Welcome back, madam!” Rosie piped.

  “Thanks, Rosie.” Kyralla blinked the sleep from her eyes and looked around. “So I’m back on the Outworld Ranger?”

  “We’re safely away from the Zayer system,” Oona said. “And traveling through hyperspace at the moment. This is our second short jump.”

  “You’ve been asleep for four days, madam,” Rosie said.

  “The others? Is Siv okay? Mitsuki? Bishop?”

  “All fine. Mitsuki got banged up. But not as bad as you did. Bishop was up in a little over a day and has been exploring the ship almost constantly since then. Siv wasn’t harmed, but he went through some…stuff.”

  Kyralla listened with concern as Oona told her about how Zetta had tempted Siv with the syringe of Kompel and how Siv had only barely managed to resist its calling.

  “What happened to the bounty hunter?”

  Oona sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her hands. “I…I killed her.”

  “You came across to the freighter?!”

  "Artemisia picked up the video feed from the freighter's bay, so I saw you get hit. I watched you go down."

  Kyralla groaned as she sat up. “I told you to stay on this ship!”

  “I know, but…” Oona shrugged. “You were clearly unconscious, but I couldn’t tell how badly you were hurt. Mitsuki was out, too. And Siv was useless. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “But the bounty hunter—”

  “She went down, too. I rewatched the video carefully. I thought for sure she was knocked out.”

  “You thought?”

  “The cameras fuzzed out right after the blast. That’s why I had to go check on you.”

  Kyralla buried her face in her hands. “Oona…”

  “I know it was dangerous,“ Oona admitted defensively, “but It’s not like I ran in there without thinking. I found a gun first.”

  “What gun?”

  “A tiny plasma pistol that Siv’s dad kept under the command chair. I had to break the DNA lock on it first. But I was so worried about you that I kinda overdid it.”

  “How did you overdo breaking a DNA lock?”

  “Well, I didn’t know that I had until…” Oona couldn’t meet Kyralla’s eyes. “When I opened the door to the access tube, Zetta was running toward me. She’d gotten back up while the cameras were out. So I…I fired the gun and…something happened. It was just a tiny snub pistol, but this ball of fire shot out from it and blew a big hole through Zetta.”

  Kyralla blinked in amazement. “Tell me everything.”

  Oona described willing the pistol to unlock and how she could suddenly understand Octavian without Artemisia translating for her. Then she explained everything the cog had discovered about her physiology. At a loss for words, Kyralla shook her head. More than ever, it was apparent how little they knew about Oona's capabilities. If she could turn a pistol into a plasma cannon, who knew what else she could do?

  Kyralla sighed. “I’m still mad at you.”

  Oona shrugged morosely. “I’m mad at me too. It was stupid. And…and…” Her voice broke, and she flung herself into Kyralla’s arms, sobbing. “Kyra, I killed someone.”

  She stroked Oona’s smooth, bald head. “If you hadn’t, she would have sold you off to the Tekk Reapers or the Empire of a Thousand Worlds. It was either you or her. You didn’t have a choice.”

  “I know.” She sobbed quietly for a few minutes. “Kyra, I’m dangerous. My powers did something to that gun.”

  “You’re only dangerous because we don’t understand what you can do. And you were motivated out of love and not hate. Don’t forget that. With the priestess’ help, I’m sure we’ll figure out your powers.”

  Oona leaned back and wiped tears from her eyes. “I have learned something else. Octavian scanned you and discovered some genetic oddities. And—”

  “He discovered oddities about me?”

  Oona nodded. “I didn’t make you a guardian, Kyra. You were born one. You were born special, too.”

  “But I got my abilities when you shaped the amulet for me.”

  Oona shrugged. “Maybe it was a coincidence. Or maybe the amulet triggered your innate talents. Who knows.”

  “But Pashta’s medical scanner didn’t show anything unusual. According to it, I’m a normal human.”

  “Apparently, it takes an advanced scan to show the difference.”

  “So if we’d had other siblings, they would have been special too?”

  “I think so,” Oona replied.

  Kyralla shook her head. “We know so much more now than we did even a week ago, and everything we thought about how this works was wrong. Yet we still don’t know anything practical. Have you tried talking to the priestess again?”

  “I tried this morning, but with no luck. I hope she hasn’t faded too far.”

  “She hasn’t,” Kyralla said firmly, “and she’ll be able to help. I know she will.”

  “You’re right.” Oona stood and reached out a hand. “Let’s get some food in you. Seneca has developed some new techniques to make the ration packets… I wouldn’t call them tasty, but I don’t want to gag and spit out the stuff anymore.”r />
  “Fine, but I want to shower first.”

  By the time Kyralla had taken a shower and finished eating, she wasn’t nearly as tired as she had been. Oona and Bishop, who’d both had a full day before she woke up, were exhausted. She convinced them to go to bed and found herself alone with nothing to do but wander around the ship.

  The main body of the Outworld Ranger was somewhat circular in design with the cargo bays and bridge jutting out to the back and front respectively. After you exited the bridge, you ended up in the main corridor which circled all the way around the hub created by the galley and the engine room in the center. This circuit made for a short, uninteresting walk. She stopped after twenty laps, not because she was tired but because she was bored.

  She walked lazily onto the bridge and slumped into the command chair. White and blue hyperspace clouds streamed by. Eddies and currents, streaked with ribbons of red or orange, formed and slipped by. Sometimes she saw shapes that moved by so quickly that she would’ve sworn she’d just seen…something. It was mesmerizing.

  As her body relaxed, her mind wandered back to the thought she’d been avoiding ever since Oona had told her what Octavian had discovered. She could’ve been the chosen one. She could’ve been the messiah. All of this could have fallen on her.

  Maybe the genetics never worked out so that the firstborn got all the powers. But it could have been her in Oona’s place, alone with no one to help her.

  The thought made her squirm with guilt and shame. Because she should wish that it had been her, that Oona had been spared this burden. But she didn’t. Instead, she felt nearly weak with relief that she was the guardian and not the messiah. And that made her feel awful.

  It was hard enough being Oona’s sister, the one responsible for keeping the messiah safe. She couldn’t imagine being Oona and having those strange powers and that grand destiny.

  “Not that I’ve been all that much help,” she muttered out loud. They’d depended almost entirely on Siv and Mitsuki to get this far. “I’ve got to do better.”

  “Something wrong, madam?”

  “Sorry, Rosie, I’m just thinking aloud. Although, there is something you could help me with.”

  “Anything for you, madam. It’s always been my pleasure serving you. And you know, I’m always rooting for you.”