Shadow of the Colossus

by Nicole Grotepas

  “Oh hey, now that I’ve had some rest, Iain, I just want to tell you that you were amazing back on the Cold Blossom. If you hadn’t been along, I’m not sure I’d still be alive.”

  “Thank you,” he said from behind her. Her heart rate increased at the sound of his deep voice behind her. “I’m sure you would have managed something. You’re good at what you do.”

  She laughed. “What is that? Letting others save the day?”

  “No, I mean it. You’re good at delegation. Recognizing who will be best at what. And allowing them to do it—stepping out of the way so they can perform their duties. The things that leaders do.”

  “You don’t think I should retire and move to the north and live on a lake or, barring that, stay in the city but hire a bodyguard to make sure nothing bad ever happens to me?” She couldn’t help the disdain that entered her voice.

  “I think you’d be bored with a life like that. You’re good at what you’re currently doing. That said, I’d have to be an arrogant fool to think that I could tell another person what they should do with their life.”

  She relaxed when she heard him say that. She finished buckling her boots, stood up, and turned to look at him. He returned her stare. His eyes felt like fire on her face.

  “I’ll just get ready. Then we can all go eat.” He stood and went into the bathroom.

  * * *

  “Bring your weapons,” Holly said over the comm.

  Shiro’s soft chuckle registered over Holly’s earpiece. “Am I ever without it? Is Odeon ever without his?”

  “Maybe if I hadn’t said it, there’s a chance that neither of you would have brought them.”

  “That is doubtful, Holly, after the things that have happened. I’ll never be caught off guard again.”

  “Moving on to more important matters, when this is over, are we doing the statue job? While I agree that this shadowy character needs to be taken care of, a chap has to pay the bills.”

  “Oh we’re doing it, Shiro,” Charly interjected over the comm. “Holly has reassured me many, many, times and in many ways that we are.”

  Holly felt her ears go hot. Iain was listening and she still wasn’t quite sure how above-board that job was. The justifications seemed slim. “We can discuss it after,” she said. “Yes, we need to pay the bills. But I’m also not going to rush in on shaky ground and steal just because a deal looks good for my bank account.”

  “Charly, isn’t it four a.m. there?” Odeon asked.

  Holly double-checked that she had her knives and her aether gun.

  “What about this?” Iain asked, picking up the aether whip handle from where it lay on top of her luggage.

  “Uh,” she muted her mic. “Yeah, that. I don’t feel confident enough to bring it along. I just barely started training with it. So. Better to rely on something I know. The old gun.” She patted her back where the Equalizer rested in its holster beneath her blazer.

  “A whip has different applications. Plus it’s less lethal. You’re sure you don’t want to take it?”

  “Yes. But if you’re weaponless, you can bring it along.”

  “I don’t now how to use it,” Iain admitted.

  “I know the feeling. But how hard can it be?”

  He stuck the handle in a pocket on his coat. “I’ll bring it for you.”

  “Thanks but let’s not deny that you can use it if you need to,” Holly said.

  They left their room and headed for the lobby. As they walked through the corridor and took the lift, the conversation continued, with most of the interchanges occurring between the others over their comm link. Holly glanced at Iain, indicating that he ought to mute his mic.

  “Sorry. Crew banter.”

  “No apology needed. You’ve got a good team. They sound like they all like each other.”

  “For the most part, they do.”

  They watched the floor indicator slide through various neon hues of light as the carriage dropped to the ground. A few more people entered, and Holly lowered her voice accordingly. The discussion between the crew continued in one ear, but she focused on her conversation with Iain.

  “Regarding that job they’re gunning for, most of them come from more morally ambiguous backgrounds.”

  Iain raised an eyebrow.

  “I was a schoolteacher. They’re all thieves.”

  “Ah,” he said.

  “I know that bothers you. You’re former military.”

  “Don’t be so sure. I’ve always thought teachers were a necessary evil.” He smiled when she checked his expression. “No, honestly. I’m a criminal, according to the Centau. But not so criminal that they think I should be locked up.”

  “They don’t seem to think anyone should be locked up. They’d rather just establish a civilization on the backs of the underprivileged.” She dipped her head, “Well, they reluctantly allow humans and Consties to indulge in their former barbaric practices of putting some people in prison. Makes me wonder just how little they actually don’t like the idea of punishment.”

  They reached the lobby and searched for Odeon and Shiro, who were waiting by the exit. The room teemed with people, most of them Consties and humans. There was a bar nearby, which was crowded and throbbed with music.

  “If you look at it that way—that they build the upper echelons of their structure on top of the lower classes—well, it’s difficult to decipher what’s wrong or right.”

  Holly exchanged a look with him, and indicated that she agreed by tilting her head. Then they crossed the lobby, weaving between bodies sweaty with revelry.

  “Bread and circus,” Grant muttered in Holly’s ear.

  “What does that mean?” Holly ask, leaning toward his ear. “Sorry, obscure reference.”

  He laughed, then explained. “I studied powerful old Earth empires. The Romans provided bread and circus—food and entertainment—to the lower classes so that they didn’t care about real matters.”

  “Sounds like they spoke my language.”

  When they joined with Odeon and Shiro, the other two told Holly that they’d found a place to eat. Why hadn’t she heard them telling her about it over the comms?

  Shiro flashed Iain a suspicious glance, then led the way out into the street and to a nearby diner. Dinner was a quick affair, comprised of a fusion of Constie and human food. During the meal, it was agreed that waiting much longer to check out the coordinates would be foolish. They were all rested and freshly fed, and so they arranged a plan and found a taxi service that would carry them past the location. If needed, they could stop a short distance from it and then move in on foot, after they’d scoped it out from the safety of an auto.

  The coordinates carried them past what appeared to be a defunct spaceship landing zone. It was cold and wintry on Paradise, currently a bit colder than Kota. Wintry winds blew debris around the platform. There were lights lining the perimeter of the zone, shining down on the grounds. Derelict ships lay exposed to the elements, portions of their bodies stripped away, revealing exposed metal framework. Their driver stopped just at the perimeter of the zone and Holly signaled him through the glass to wait.

  “Is this it?” Shiro asked, his voice heavy with meaning. “Let’s not rush into there.”

  “It’s probably OK,” Holly said, attempting to put a sunny face on it.

  “If you’re going to scout it out, I think I should wait here,” Shiro said. “It’s cold. It’s dark. Who knows what’s in there?”

  Darius came on over the comms, using the video derived from the tech on their earpieces. “You’re not quite there. Up ahead, can you see the hangar? That’s the precise coordinates.”

  Holly sighed. “Of course, a hangar. Why wouldn’t it be an abandoned hangar.”

  “I think we should begin chasing after people who stage everything in resorts. Remember when we had to stay in a resort for a job?” Shiro sat back, smiling.

  “For what it’s worth, I agree with the others that this doesn’t bode well, Holly,�
� Iain offered. “Appears to be a trap. At least, this is the sort of location best suited for a trap.”

  “I see that. However, there’s only one option here. Check it. Which may mean springing the trap. So let’s work out how we’ll do that—there’s a reason we insisted on bringing you, Iain. We can work together to avoid being caught. We’re heading into it expecting a trap and I think that makes a difference. Are you OK that?”

  “I signed up for it,” he answered, plainly.

  “Sort of. But you didn’t know it would be quite like this.”

  “Would you settle for ‘danger is my middle name’?” He laughed.

  “Mine too, chap. I think that happens to also be Odeon’s. Odeon Danger Starlight.”

  Their nervousness came out in their laughter. With that, they created a plan that would prevent all of them from being in danger all at once, while also venturing in and checking it out. Since they had no solid idea of what to expect within the hangar—and Darius had repeatedly tried to learn more as they were en route to the location with no luck—they would play it safe.

  Once they had outlined how to proceed, Holly tapped on the glass dividing the front of the vehicle from the rear where they were riding in four seats that faced each other. The human driver rolled the partition down. “Yep?”

  “Can you drop us here and come back in an hour?”

  “It can be arranged. For more money.”

  Holly exchanged looks with her crew. “How much?”

  “A hundred novas on top of the fare.”

  Holly bit her lip, then haggled him down to fifty novas. “If you don’t make us wait, you show up a bit early, I may do more than that.”

  The driver nodded and the crew climbed out of the auto. Once they’d closed the doors, he sped away.

  “Seems the lad was in a hurry,” Shiro observed.

  “Don’t take it as a sign. I’m sure this former spaceship airstrip isn’t haunted or anything.” Holly touched her nose, catching a rank odor on the air. “Though it smells worse than I was expecting.”

  “What is that?” Iain asked.

  “A dead rodent, probably,” Shiro said.

  Grant chuckle. “I hope.”

  “Same here, lad,” Shiro agreed.

  Odeon sniffed, then stopped. “I hear something.”

  “Let’s get into cover and put our plan into action,” Holly said, ducking behind a derelict ship. The hull was rusted and decaying. Odeon crouched beside her. “What do you hear?”

  “Voices. They’re coming from the hangar.”

  Iain and Shiro took a different course toward the hangar, while Odeon and Holly made their way from ships to broken down containers, to a stack of crates. They continued on their way, communicating using their comm systems. Occasionally Darius checked in, offering his services and whatever he could do. He gave them a quick run down on the history of the defunct landing site. A massive fire had burned half of the hangars, and rather than rebuild, the powers-that-be moved to a new location, leaving it behind to simply rot.

  “Checking in Holly,” Iain said. “We’re almost to the side doors.”

  “Good. Odeon has only been able to make out two distinct voices. So we’re beginning to wonder about this scenario. Grant, you have the aether whip, right?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I apologize. I should have given it to you.”

  “Not necessary. Use it if you need to.”

  “I swore off weapons when I left the military.”

  “Er, Ms. Drake, you didn’t tell me you’d assigned me the pacifist of the team. I take issue with this,” Shiro interjected.

  “I have your back, Mr. Oahu. Fists, if nothing else.”

  “Well,” Shiro said. “That’s something. Better than standing idly by while I get skewered or thrown into a vat of acid. We can all agree that this location screams acid vats and table saws and lasers for dismembering prisoners, can’t we?”

  “Good Ixion, Shiro,” Holly said.

  “I’m with Holly, Shiro. Besides, nothing I hear leads me to believe that these people will engage in torture. As it becomes clearer, it sounds a bit like an argument or a discussion.”

  “We’re nearly to our doors,” Holly said, moving from shadow to shadow, stepping as stealthily as possible. Frigid winds blew against her cheeks, bringing with it odors of decay and occasionally the smell of rot.

  “We’re at the doors,” Iain said over the comms. “Shiro is looking inside through a window.”

  “Come over here and give me a boost, chap,” Shiro said.

  “I’m boosting Shiro,” Grant said, a note of mirth in his voice.

  “Good work, guys. Odeon and I are nearly in position. Let us know what you see.”

  There was a pause as Holly and Odeon made it to the side door. Odeon immediately tried the door access panel. It wasn’t working. He ripped out some wires and touched them together, and the door opened quietly.

  Inside the hangar was full of more crates and charred remains of ships. “All these ships, just wasted…” Holly said, feeling strangely hollow, considering how they were so empty and forgotten.

  “We have eyes inside the hangar,” Holly said to the others over the comms.

  “Only two voices, Holly. I can hear them now. A man and a woman,” Odeon said, peering around the door frame.

  “Our door won’t open,” Iain said.

  “Stick to the plan. Observe. We’re going in,” Holly whispered. They worked their way inside, scouting each zone before they proceeded inside. Together they slowly worked their way toward the voices.

  “I heard a name,” Odeon said, stopping. “Macav.”

  “Macav Onini?” Shiro said. “Why would he be here? He’s not Shadow Coalition.”

  Holly wanted to answer that perhaps he was, but remained silent, since they weren’t sure what else they would find as they wound their way toward the voices.

  Odeon stopped her and pointed, leaning out to check around the nose of a ship. When he retracted back to his crouching position near her, he whispered. “I see Macav Onini. He’s speaking to Aimee Voss. And there’s a body in a chair. They’re talking about what to do with it.”

  “Did Odeon say that Aimee Voss is here?” Shiro interrupted on the comms.

  “Yes, I did, Shiro.”

  “What’s our next move. Are they the trap, or have they sprung it, or was there never a trap?” Shiro pondered aloud.

  “Let’s listen in for a while. See what they say. See if anything else happens,” Holly said.

  They gave the conversation ten more minutes as Macav and Aimee argued about the body and the Shadow Coalition. Eventually, it became clear that the two of them had come to the coordinates answering the summons the same way Holly and her crew had.

  “They’re shills, just like us,” Shiro said, laughing softly. “Comical turn of events, eh?”

  “We’re going to talk them,” Holly said. “Anyone have an objection to that? Maybe they’ve learned something else.”

  “Ms. Drake, you must want this very badly, if you’ll drop your grudge against Aimee Voss,” Shiro observed.

  “Don’t go there Shiro. Odeon and I will talk to them first, to be certain they’re not part of the trap. You two stay out there for now,” Holly said.

  Holly led the way around the ship’s hull. When they came into full view, Macav dropped into an attack stance. Voss turned, saw them, and then gestured to Macav.

  “It’s alright Macav, I know them,” Voss said. “Relax.

  Macav answered in the deep voice Holly remembered from seeing him once before. “Come to think of it, I know them also.”

  “Let me guess. You heard the signal, and came to find answers,” Voss said.

  “Too easy, so I give you no credit for being clever. At least, not for that,” Holly said. She gestured to the body. “Was this here as a gift, or did you guys get bored and murder someone while you waited for the Shadow Coalition to show up?” The body was tied to a chair, wearing a black suit, and
was slumped forward. A knife protruded from the back, in an eerily similar way to what they’d just seen on the Cold Blossom.

  “Very funny, Holly. It was here when I arrived. Macav appeared after. We did not come together, as much as he wishes we had. Where’s your other little friends?”

  “They’re listening, and I bet they loved hearing that. Little.” Holly laughed. “Any idea who the body was? And was this was all that you found?”

  Voss took a few steps back, and tapped Macav with the back of her hand to indicate that he ought to as well. “See for yourself. He has a Shadow Coalition mark on his neck.”

  Holly cautiously got closer and crouched down to see the face of the body. “Was there a note or something?” She asked as she got a better look. Odeon kept his eyes on Voss and Macav. Holly’s blood froze when she saw the face. Through its discoloration, she recognized it.

  Odeon must have noticed the color draining from her face. “What is it? What’s wrong, Holly?”

  “Yes, what’s the matter, Holly Drake? Do you know him?” Voss asked, taking a step closer. Odeon warned her off with his club.

  “It’s the man who tried to kill me on the Copper Nebula.”

  * * *

  Macav had been relatively silent so far, only exchanging whispers with Voss. But the revelation that the dead body was somehow related to Holly and her crew must have restored his voice. “This man tried to kill you?”

  Holly rose and backed away. “Yes. Quite recently, actually.”

  Macav rubbed his chin, the skin pale and possessing a porcelain-like quality. He nodded slowly. “Very odd, indeed.” His voice was deep and measured, blending qualities of Constie tones and the stately cadences of Centau enunciation, a vestige of his mixed upbringing. The last time Holly had seen Macav, he’d been wearing leisure attire and had received Holly and her crew back in his Helo-based home. Today he wore the black clothing she expected to see on a cat-burglar. His chest was protected by a matte black body armor and an aether gun was strapped to his leg, noticeable, not concealed, and it made her wonder what, if anything, he would be hiding as back up. Voss was dressed similarly, in the black and grays of a cat burglar, though her long blonde hair was always a distraction, so it never mattered that she dressed to hide in the shadows. The woman generally left her hair down and eye-catching.