Shadow of the Colossus

by Nicole Grotepas

  “Unless I used the security cameras. Which I plan to do, to make sure you guys don’t get caught off guard by some new Shadow Coalition threat that seems to materialize out of nowhere, like the bastards seem to do.”

  Holly liked the idea of Grant, and she didn’t like it. Deceiving Iain was off the books. But, the idea of a soiree with him dressed up, hanging off her arm. She knew he probably cleaned up nice. And it had been a while since she’d dressed up herself. Not that she liked such frivolous things. Utilitarian, that was the way she liked to go. But being beautiful once in a mulit-moon eclipse. That was fun.

  “So, Iain would be another layer of security for Holly?” Odeon asked, sounding like he could be convinced. “I have seen him fight—he’s capable. And he’s aware of Holly and what she’s doing all the time when he’s around. He wouldn’t abandon her for another woman and leave her exposed.”

  Holly cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks burn at the mention of what Odeon had noticed about Grant.

  “He might do it. I’d need to ask. Because deceiving him about what we’re doing isn’t going to work,” she said. “If that compromise will work for you, Odeon, I’ll ask him.”

  Odeon stood and paced around the sofas and armchairs a few times, and then nodded. “I’m OK with it, Holly. Iain Grant will stand in for me at the soiree, then the heist is on.”

  * * *

  Charly sent out zing notifications to the guests on their list for the soiree. Holly watched over her shoulder as she designed the invitation and then sent it all out before noon that day. She was clever as hell at that shit, Holly noted, turning the late notice into part of the allure, as though that was what made the event scarce and special, and therefore not to be missed.

  “How many people did you invite?” Holly asked, tapping her foot and thinking about how she was going to approach Grant about the topic. She turned and sat on Charly’s desk, facing her friend where she sat in her chair. Everyone else had left to take care of their tasks before the party in a few days.

  Charly blew out a puff of air. “Uh, I don’t know? Everyone who’s anyone, especially anyone that our Centau mark thinks is cool.”

  “How do you know who that is?”

  “It’s obvious. There are records on the social records of whose events he’s attended and who he’s invited to his own personal events.”

  “Clever. I should have known you’d know how to handle the best way to manipulate the rich and elite of the City of Jade Spires.”

  “Well, yeah, it’s what I do,” Charly laughed. “So the plan is set. Hopefully. If the mark doesn’t show up, then the point of the soiree is lost.”

  “Will people RSVP?”

  “Yes. And I made the record of who has done that public as well, so that our mark can see who’s slated to attend. As long as a few of the people he thinks are the shit are coming, he’s likely to attend. I also know that no other major events are scheduled for that night. So, we have nothing else to compete with except whether or not he’s in the mood to socialize.”

  “You’ll keep me updated on that?”

  “I will. And you need to get on Scotch to make sure he’s in. Otherwise this whole thing will go bust. I have no idea how to deal with a pissed off Druiviin. They’re the worst when they dig their heels in. Believe me—I’m currently in a relationship with one. So moody. Worse than a human woman.”

  Holly laughed, reflecting on Charly’s choice of words about how she wanted Holly to get Grant’s commitment. She’d never blushed so much in her whole life. Maybe as a teen. And she was getting tired of it. Iain was just some random guy!

  Honorable. Committed. Staid. Calm in the midst of the furies around him. Accepting. And handsome as hell.

  “What?” Charly asked.

  “What, what?” Holly said, widening her eyes. “Sorry, did I say something?”

  “You blushed. It was amazing. Your skin doesn’t usually show it. But this time it was like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”

  Holly shifted, and stood, walking away from Charly. “I don’t now what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh. My. God.” Charly covered her hand with her mouth. “I don’t have time for this. I need to be ordering shit for the party. But this is more important, Holly. You’re blushing about Scotch. Iain. Whatever he’s going by.”

  “I was not,” Holly said, as she headed for the door. “And he goes by Iain or Grant. Scotch—he told me he hates that nickname.”

  “Why would you care?”

  “I don’t. You asked. So I answered you,” she said from the doorway.

  “Why would you know?”

  “Because I’ve worked with him a few times. It’s come up,” Holly said.

  “What else has ‘come up’?” Charly made air quotes around the words. “Other important ‘things’?”

  “For the love. What are you? Fourteen?”

  “Oh Holly. You’ve bounced around so much, I hope that whatever you have for Iain has some staying power,” Charly said.

  Her tone was sincere enough that Holly believed her. But she also knew that nothing really mattered, when it came to this crush she had on Iain Grant. Holly was currently entertaining something with Elan. And that was working for her. So, there was no point in thinking about much beyond the surface issues of working with Iain as they came up. Of course, she allowed her thoughts to go there, because it was hard as hell to check them. He was around. He oozed something that spoke to her on a primal level, something she hadn’t quite figured out yet, and something that she respect on a mental level.

  She laughed and thanked Charly for the consideration and then left, with a quick goodbye, saying she was heading out to ask Grant to join her for the damn party. Charly shouted that her fingers were crossed. Holly laughed in the stairwell and hurried out, with a quick goodbye to Torden.

  The brisk cold of the weather pierced her coat as Holly strolled through the city. It was now the middle of the day. She considered actually using her communicator to call him to see if he’d meet her, but decided that it would be more fun to stop at a food truck and buy lunch and something for him, too. She’d observed that he liked rice bowls filled with vegetables and meat, covered in light sauces. Would it be presumptuous of her to do that?

  She didn’t know, actually. It had been so long since she’d dealt with members of the opposite sex without the guilt of it hanging over her. Guilt and fear. If Grafton had discovered things like that, she was certain he would have killed her. If they ever happened, everything had been so riddled with those suffocating emotions that they were clouded beyond comprehension.

  Holly could buy Grant lunch and no one would give a damn. Except Grant, if she bought him something and he didn’t like it.

  But she didn’t care! She’d get it for him, if he liked it, fan-fucking-tastic. If he didn’t, he could throw it away later when she wasn’t around.

  There was a row of food vendors just outside Analogue Alley, competing with the sit-down retro restaurants within the alley. Holly stopped at the Old East Asian one and ordered something that she figured Grant would like, and one for herself. As she strode through the alley, dodging pedestrians and window shoppers, she felt a strange anxiety welling up in her gut.

  Nothing she could do about it now. Holly refused to become the victim of a bunch of random fears about what the future held. He’d either like it or not. It didn’t have to interfere with their working relationship. She still needed him for the party. There was a lot weighing on it now.

  She pushed through it and soon was on the doorstep of his shop, the cold biting at her nose, her eyes watering until there were tears streaming down her cheeks. She opened the door and went inside.

  Before anyone could greet her, she strode confidently up to main counter. Grant appeared in the door to the backroom, a v-screen in his hands, which he quickly hid behind his back as though he was guilty of using something digital rather than analogue.

  “Holly,” he said, seeming to struggle for som
ething to say, and then managed, “Hi.”

  “Hungry?” she asked. “I should have asked if you were. But I was getting something for myself and figured there was a good chance you haven’t had anything yet.”

  “I haven’t,” he said, his eyes widening as she placed the bowl on the counter. “Oh, come back here. It’s not been a very busy day yet.” He motioned for her to follow him through the archway into the back office.

  Holly picked up the bowl and joined him in the back room.

  “It tends to pick up around two. So I usually spend the mornings placing orders or marking down inventory. Or—don’t tell anyone—taking naps.”

  “The benefits of working for yourself,” she said, placing his bowl on the desk. She went to the other end of the room and sat on his couch.

  “I think I earned it. All those years on a ship, doing my duty.” He spun in the chair to pick up the bowl and then spun again to face her. “Smells delicious.”

  “Just some kind of rice bowl.”

  “Amazing. Thank you.” He began eating it.

  Holly followed his lead and did too, wondering how she would ask him to the party. It would have to be delicate.

  They talked casually about things. The weather. How his training went with Gabe. And then, as a springboard from there, Holly asked him if he’d ever be interested in small jobs with her and the crew.

  “It would depend on the job. Maybe I could be convinced.”

  “In what way? With money? Intrigue?”

  “Though I told you the other day that the Centau regard me as a criminal, I’m not. I choose to do things honestly. If I can fit something into my parameters, I may be interested.”

  “I think we share a similar sense of how we pick and choose. I don’t want to be dishonest.”

  “Is that why you’re here?”

  “You mean, something to do with a job?”

  “That’s the only reason you’ve come by so far. To ask me for help with your work.”

  She almost protested, but stopped, her mouth hanging open as she considered all the things she’d done with Grant. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, he was right. But who was she to bother him with her mundane life?

  “Well, it’s not like that. I respect your time. You’re a busy guy. I don’t want to just come around and hang on you with no purpose.”

  “It would hardly be a violation of my time,” he laughed, gesturing around them. “We’re the only ones here.”

  “Where’s Kaye?”

  “She doesn’t work today. Just me.” He raised his eyebrows when he said that, digging through the bowl with a fork and taking bites.

  Holly cleared her throat, pushing away thoughts of what they could be doing with just the two of them. “Well, I did come to ask you something. Something about work.” She paused. When he didn’t say anything more, she continued. “It’s a party. A major soiree, as Charly has called it. In two nights, at the Surge Club. I wondered if you’d be my date.”

  He stopped in the motion of bringing his fork to his mouth, then continued on like nothing had happened.

  She felt suddenly dirty about the way she’d set it up. “Not date, exactly. But, that’s what you’d be posing as.” She filled him in, quickly, the on the details of the party and their mark and the statue, leaving nothing out, because she wouldn’t do that to him. His integrity matched hers and she couldn’t do that to him—being unclear about what the real purpose of the party was. Of course, she left out how much she wanted to see him dressed up. And how much she hoped to mingle with him, dressed to the nines herself, and to spend an evening with him where she wasn’t about to vomit or pass out with the anxiety of flying through space on a goddamn zeppelin.

  When she felt that she’d come clean about the entire purpose of the soiree, she stopped, waiting to hear his thoughts.

  He’d stopped eating, put the bowl aside, and was watching her with a bemused but serious expression on his face.

  “So I’d be your date?” He asked simply.

  “Well, somewhat. Odeon is still shaken over ‘letting’ me almost get stabbed. He’s protective of me. We need him to on site for the locks. He doesn’t want to leave me behind again. But Charly and I can do double duty on the mark.”

  “So you’d sort of be his date?”

  “You’d be my real date,” she said. She wanted to say so much more, but held her tongue, because she didn’t quite know what else she wanted to say or what she wanted from him.

  “I don’t agree with stealing. But, I definitely support the schools that your friend Elan has chosen to make, and if some of the money is going to those, then it’s like Robin Hood. If seventy five percent of the novas go to the schools, then I am in.”

  “I can guarantee seventy five percent.” She grinned, then gave him the rest of the details, before leaving.

  * * *

  Though much of her day was spent training at the Center with Aeolionaias and her muscles still ached from that, Holly was in top form the night of the soiree. She was there early to prepare with Charly, and then, before it began, she watched from the window in the Bird’s Nest as the Surge Club began to fill up. She was dressed in a black sheath dress that went to just above her knees. It was sleeveless and her black hair cascaded down her back.

  Darius sat at his bay of v-screens, keeping track of everyone. She’d never seen a job from this angle. Usually she put herself on the frontline and dealt with problems as they happened to her. She caught him giving directions to Shiro as they worked to prepare for the heist portion of the night. Their mark had RSVP’d and so things were moving forward.

  “Check, check.” Iain’s gravelly voice came over her earpiece.

  “Grant!” Darius said, his voice sounding like he was smiling. “How’s it going? Glad you’re joining us tonight.”

  “Ah, hello. Just checking to see if this thing still works,” Grant said. “I’ll be there soon. Heading over now.”

  “See you soon, Iain,” Holly said, then muted her mic. “Guess I’ll head down there, Darius.”

  “Sounds good, Drake. You look swell, you know?” Darius said, turning in his chair. He rose and went to the kasé brewer and prepared it. “This might be a late night. I need to get all my supplies lined up before things start to get hot.”

  “Good call.”

  “Keep an eye out. Just because it’s going to be a room full of supposed elite, doesn’t mean someone won’t show up we don’t know or expect. And you’re apparently a wanted woman,” Darius said. “We’re this close to finishing off the Heart for good, we can bet he’s got his eyes on us too.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out, Darius, if you swear to keep an eye on me,” she said, pausing at the stairs.

  “When have I ever not had you in my sights?” Darius asked, pretending to be offended. Their earpieces were suddenly filled with feedback noise. “Wait, what? Shiro is that you? Come in? Come in. You’re all fuzzy, man. Stop holding the comm unit up by your ear. You’re getting—oh my god. Sorry Drake, gotta solve this issue with Shiro. Get down there and party.”

  Holly laughed and complied. It was interesting to see things from Darius’s position. How often did she seem like the bumbling fool from this end? She’d have to razz Shiro about it later.

  When she sauntered onto the main floor of the club, she suddenly felt immensely out of place. What was she supposed to do now? Just walk around? Mingle? Their mark wasn’t there yet, and Charly was greeting people as they arrived, carrying a champagne glass in her hand. Holly went to the bar, greeted Torden, and asked for a beer.

  He stared at her.

  “What?”

  “A beer, Holly?” Torden shook his head. Tonight his hair was combed up into a pompadour and he wore a crisp white jacket.

  “Is there something wrong with beer?”

  “Normally, no. But this is a party. You want to look elegant. You want something that matches that dress.” He poured her a glass of champagne and handed it to her. “Drink that.
No beer. Not tonight.”

  She took the champagne and sipped it, shaking her head and giving Torden a wry smile for giving her a hard time about her typical taste.

  Now, she supposed she would keep busy till Grant showed up. She bit her lip in anticipation. Could he still wear his military uniform? Or would that be in bad form? Had they taken it from him when he was discharged? That was perhaps the saddest part of his leaving the military the way he had—that he could no longer dress in the uniform and demand the respect that he clearly deserved for having kept the perimeter of the solar system free from the uninvited. She wrinkled her brow, thinking about that. Though, were they really in danger? Was it just a weird isolationist move? What lay out there, beyond the heliopause? What sort of amazing creatures were in the universe?

  She’d thought that she would see Grant come in, but her thoughts were wrapped up in how the Centau leadership had dealt unfairly with him. He was suddenly beside her, where she leaned against a bar stool, casually drinking her champagne.

  “This seat taken?” Grant asked, his voice near her ear over the live music.

  She laughed. “Hi. What are you drinking?”

  “Water. I’m on duty tonight. You are my charge, apparently. Odeon demands it.”

  She tilted her head to give him a long, appraising look. A black tuxedo trimmed his lean, tall figure, accentuated by a white dress shirt and a blue bow tie with matching cufflinks that glinted in the muted bar lighting. He sat on the stool next to Holly, placing one shiny black shoe on the foot rest. It was a very old school look, and would have fit at any Analogue Alley gala. She took a deep breath, clearing her thoughts.

  “That’s no fun,” she said, in response to his no drink answer.

  “Agreed. But I don’t take duty lightly, ever. And I agree with Odeon. You’ve got too many targets on you to count and I don’t see how this one would be any different.”