Final Protocol

by J. C. Daniels

  Once I reached the cliffs, I located my cache and then settled in to get some rest.

  They weren’t on my trail.

  If they had been, they would have followed me and I’d have already been on my way, gagged and bound, to my keeper.

  I’d once wondered why he didn’t just have some sort of locator device embedded in the bioseal, but I’d figured that out quickly enough. If it could be used to trace me, then it could be traced back to him as well. Considering the jobs I did, he wouldn’t risk anything that would be so easily tracked back to him.

  Stars forbid he dirty his hands in such a fashion.

  That’s why he had us, after all.

  Us.

  His pets. His toys.

  His personal army of trained thieves and killers.

  His slaves.

  I have no memory of how I came to be…this.

  My earliest memories are twisted and dull, little more than flashes. I can’t even call them mine—they feel more like a story somebody told me long ago, one I can barely remember. The few things that do feel real, that do feel like mine, I can’t even call them memories, really. Just…fragments. Echoes. There are images of a world that isn’t this one—someplace green and lush, where the air was thick with flowers.

  I can recall screams and shouts. Then pain.

  Always pain.

  That is one thing that is a constant in my life even now.

  While I’m hardly a child, I can claim no true memories up until ten years ago. I was told I’d misbehaved. When I emerged from a fogged, pain-filled stupor, those insubstantial memories were all I had, and my keeper smiled at me as a health intern bustled around me.

  “Are you going to continue to cause me trouble, pet?” he’d asked.

  Apparently, I’ve never been a very good little slave.

  My life has never been mine.

  I belonged to my handler.

  My keeper.

  My owner.

  My own personal demon.

  He controlled the choices I made in life, even if he did let me live off on my own, pretending that I was my own person.

  He chose my jobs, he provided my clothing, my shelter and my food. I could always refuse the clothing, shelter and food, but then I’d end up back on my knees while he took his time reminding me of his claim on me.

  So I took the jobs, the clothing, the shelter, the food.

  The one thing he couldn’t control were my thoughts. He’d tried that and it had nearly killed me. The bioseal buried in my brain matter might be keyed into my thoughts and memories and emotions, but he couldn’t change my thoughts, memories, emotions. He could just punish me when those little acts of rebellion displeased him.

  I had one escape from him, and only one.

  I had a decision to make—either take that escape or take a chance that this botanist could do something about the bioseal. I needed to decide. But first, I had to get some rest. I was running on nerves and adrenaline and if I didn’t recharge soon, I’d regret it.

  I checked the defenses around the perimeter of the cave and then checked the sec system I’d set up high on the outer cliffs. Nobody around the perimeter. I was safe. They hadn’t followed.

  I stretched out on the floor and closed my eyes.

  Dreams started to tug at me almost the moment I did.

  I went willingly.

  Sometimes, when I slept, I almost remembered…something.

  “—choose which you’d rather have.”

  Pain licked at her and blood streamed into her eyes. She wanted to wipe it away but she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything. Trapped. She was trapped.

  “Just leave her alone!”

  That voice! I thought he’d killed you, she thought desperately, struggling anew to free herself from the unseen bonds. Pain wracked her with every movement, no matter how small, but she couldn’t break free, couldn’t do much more than twist her wrists or arch her back. Even her head was trapped, making her unable to follow the sound of the voice. Rolling her eyes from right to left, she tried to see, but the blood streaming down from the laceration on her brow blinded her.

  “I’ve already discussed the conditions under which I’ll leave her alone. Do you agree?”

  No! She wanted to scream it out. Don’t agree! But her mouth was as useless as the rest of her body, and all she managed to get out past her battered throat and swollen lips was a strangled moan.

  A hand smoothed down her hair. “Hush, pet.”

  She cringed away—or tried to—from that touch. Him. It was him.

  “Decide,” he said, either unaware of her hatred of him or unaffected. “If you don’t decide soon, I will.”

  “Fine. I’ll…” The words were erratic, ragged. “You win. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “Perfect.” There was a faint, electronic whine. “Now…kill her.”

  She wanted to sob. She might have been doing so already.

  “No!” The furious bellow was abruptly cut off by the sound of a deep, tormented howl of pain.

  “You will kill her…or I will keep her.”

  Silence. It was a noiseless summons, a tug in my brain, and it pulled me straight out of a dream that fell apart like gossamer threads. I tasted blood in my mouth.

  And I could hear the echo of laughter.

  Gold’s laughter. My owner. My tormentor. My nightmare.

  That was all that lingered from the dream.

  His familiar, mocking laughter.

  What had I been dreaming about?

  There was another tug within the seal in my brain and I shuddered. Curling into a tighter ball, I hugged my knees to my chest with one arm, while the other held my weapon, ready and pointed at the mouth of the cave.

  So much for escaping him.

  Silence.

  The sound of my name had me wanting to smash my head against the stone of the cave until sweet, blissful oblivion welcomed me into her arms. First the dream…

  And now this.

  Silence.

  I knew him, knew what he wanted, and I didn’t want to deal with him yet. I’d hoped for a few more hours of sleep.

  Silence.

  After the fourth whisper of the name I’d taken for myself ten years ago, I finally opened my eyes and stared up at the roof of the cave.

  The son of a bitch wouldn’t be quiet.

  Reaching out, I caught the comm and activated it. The scrambler would delay my response as it bounced it around, making it impossible for him to find me. He’d try, and it was entirely possible he would track me down after I’d left here—long after I’d left. But that wouldn’t do him any good, and it pleased me to think of him chasing after my shadow.

  “What do you want?” I asked sourly.

  “I want to know why the job wasn’t completed.”

  I curled my lip.

  Overhead, a fat drop of water collected. As it started to fall, I closed my eyes and then held still as it let go and came down toward me, hitting me in the middle of my brow. I welcomed the cool, wet relief, a balm against the rage I felt anytime I had to deal with this bastard.

  I hated him.

  I loathed him.

  I needed him to survive.

  “The job wasn’t completed because there were complications. I would have called you to discuss them if you hadn’t had your watchdogs outside my home. I don’t like it when you do that,” I said softly, opening my eyes as I began to weave the careful web of lies I’d crafted during my journey. Did I go through with this? Or just end it? Even if I found the botanist, Gold would still seek me. I knew him. He’d never give me up.

  “Complications,” he murmured in a voice that sounded of silk and poison.

  Just the sound of it was enough to make me shudder. I knew that voice, so well. It had murmured to me wh
en I was barely clinging to life. He had put me there more than once. And more than once, he’d found me there and nursed me back to health—it was only fair, since every time I’d ended up in that precarious position, it was because of a job he’d sent me on.

  And then there were the other times, times that made me hate myself even more.

  Maybe I did have a soul.

  If I were as empty as I liked to think I was, then I couldn’t hate myself.

  “Tell me,” he continued, and the sound of his voice drew my nipples tight even as revulsion ripped through me. “Silence, tell me of these complications.”

  “He knew I was coming. I told you it was problematic to accept a job on Aris. The Ariste are not an easy race to assassinate.”

  “Were there guards?” He sounded curious.

  As far as my body was concerned, he might as well have been in front of me, his hands, beautiful and elegant, stripping my clothes away. But my mind blistered with rage and my hands shook with the need to wrap around his throat, to throttle him, to hurt him. I could kill him two times over before he could strip me naked. I’d learned well. I knew how to kill, just as he’d planned.

  Only one thing stopped me.

  The bioseal he had embedded in my brain.

  But one day, even that might not be enough.

  “No.” I managed to keep my tone bored. “But nobody truly understands the Ariste, do they? As he knew I was coming, I didn’t know what else he knew. If he knew to plan for me, perhaps he even knew about you. I didn’t wish to bring that mess to your door.”

  There was a sigh, heavy, regretful. “You say the right things, Silence. If only I could believe those words.”

  “What good does it do me to lie? You hold my life in your hands.”

  “Hmmm.” There was a pause and then I heard a soft crackle. “Come to me. I have another job. It’s…important, and if you do it, we will wipe this slate clean.”

  Slowly, I sat up, my body protesting as the night spent on stone made itself known. “Clean?” I echoed.

  What…he wasn’t going to beat me? Punish me to make it clear how very unacceptable this was?

  He chuckled. “Yes. All will be forgotten. But don’t make me wait. You won’t like the consequences if I have to send Dahm to hunt you down. He’s already on your scent trail.”

  Liar. I kept that locked behind my teeth. If Dahm were on my trail, he’d be here already. But the threat was enough to have me up and moving.

  I thought of the botanist, thought of the decision I’d made.

  Then I thought of what Gold had promised. Would he lie? Yes. If it suited his purposes, but why would he suggest such a reward?

  “Why now?” I asked softly. “Who is the target?”

  “Come in and we’ll discuss it.”

  There was something in his voice that made me tense.

  I recognized it.

  Very little got my keeper worked up. Very little. This job though, it had him on edge. Was it possible he meant it?

  I turned to look at the entrance to the cave, debating.

  “Silence…foolish, foolish girl. I know where you are now,” he murmured.

  I closed my eyes. An amateur’s mistake. I’d just made one. He couldn’t control my thoughts, no. But if he tapped into the bioseal, he could access them—and he’d just done that, enough to see what I could see.

  “I’ll come in,” I said flatly. “But pull in your dogs, Gold.”

  “That’s a good girl.”

  Garner wasn’t happy with me.

  He was waiting outside the club, playing his brother’s ever-vigilant watchdog, his cadre of men spaced out around him on the multileveled street.

  Two of them were already shadowing me, and my skin was crawling because at some point soon, I expected them to take me down. I’d messed up a job. The punishment would be in pain or flesh.

  I preferred pain and I even hoped for the bastards behind me to make a move. I was ready for it. Ready, prepared, a blade tucked discreetly in one hand. When they moved on me, I’d kill at least one.

  I always did.

  That was one of the reasons Garner hated me.

  To date, he’d lost nine men to me.

  He’d broken every rib in my body, eight fingers—and several of them twice or three times over—my left knee, my right cheekbone, both bones in my left forearm, and he’d dislocated my right shoulder. Twice. Of course, he always had help. I’d killed his men on my own. Perhaps that was why he looked at me with ugly hate in his eyes.

  As I came into his line of sight, I let a smile curve my lips, despite the fact that I could all but feel the heavy breaths of Dahm coming down my neck.

  “Dahm.”

  Those breaths stilled.

  “You should invest in some breath tonics. I hear they even sell something that will cover up that lizard smell. You could almost pass for humanoid as long as one didn’t look at you.”

  A low, ugly hiss escaped the Vagarian, and I dodged to the left just in time to avoid having his claws punch through my spleen. Sliding him a smile, I waggled a finger. “Now, now. You know how the boss is. He doesn’t mind if I’m broken, but he’d rather me not be bleeding when you throw me at his feet.”

  Dahm opened his great maw, flashing wicked teeth and treating me to a faceful of breath toxic enough to kill a dead pack animal. Fortunately, I knew better than to breathe in. Vagarians had been known to stun people with that stink of their breath alone, and if you got enough of that rot in your lungs, it could render you sick. His flat, black eyes flicked over me and I spun the staff I’d brought with me, smiling.

  “Want to dance?”

  “He waits,” Dahm said, his forked tongue dragging over the s.

  “Yes. I’ll be sure to let him know you wanted to chat.”

  He snapped his jaws at me and pointed past my shoulder.

  We were done. Dahm wouldn’t risk angering the man who held the controls over his seal, either.

  None of us wanted to do that. Well, I did. But most of them weren’t as close to crazy as I was.

  I doubted any of them hated the man who controlled this portion of Jakor as much as I did. One of the more depraved colonies of New Earth, it was a forgotten, fucked-up piece of hell and my keeper ruled over it with an iron fist.

  It wasn’t just the miles that he owned, or the clubs, or even the land outside the city of Jakor. He had his hands in the pockets of officials; he knew secrets that could destroy the government. People smiled to his face and behind his back, they dreamed of his death.

  I doubted any of them wanted him dead as much as I did though. I was almost crazy enough to try for it, and screw how many others it damned.

  Almost. But I wasn’t there yet.

  The night was young though.

  Depending on what happened in his offices tonight, it was entirely possible I might end up crossing that line before the twin suns crossed the horizon.

  The pulse and throb of the music assaulted me as I went inside.

  I mean…assaulted me.

  He ran a den of sin and the music was little more than a form of rape, taunting the brain and teasing the area that brought about arousal and made you think of sex and sweat and bodies rubbing together.

  My eyes adjusted to the pulsing silver-and-purple lights enough to see that many of the bodies packed inside his club were already rubbing together. As I passed by one table, one of the hustlers came up to one of the couples, tapping the male on his shoulder. The couple was odd, a bulky, leather-skinned Cragorian and some other humanoid—she had blue skin and winglike appendages instead of arms—rather pretty, really. The two of them were directed to one of the skin booths, and when the male of the pair balked, the hustler simply stared him down.

  They’d pay, or they’d hurt.

  Nobody would do anything a
bout it, either.

  Not here.

  Not anywhere in the Mihor quadrant, the slice of land all but ruled by one very depraved king. Perhaps he wasn’t a king in truth, but he might as well be.

  “If you’re in the mood to watch, he might let you. After he’s done.”

  I looked away from the couple to find Garner staring at me with his dark, dead eyes. “Watching isn’t really my thing, Garner.”

  “No. You prefer to fuck my brother and try to play cunt-games with him.” He leaned in, the smell of synthetic garlic heavy on his breath. “The games don’t work. But it’s fun to watch you try.”

  My gut rolled. Play with his brother. If only I had much choice in it. I’d stay on the other side of the galaxy if I had any say in the matter. But I didn’t mention that. If either of them had any idea just how deep my revulsion ran, it would become a tool, a weapon against me. Instead of showing how I felt, I reached up and touched a finger to his cheek. “You spend an awful lot of time worrying about the games I play with your brother, Garner… What’s the matter?” I leaned in closer and pressed my lips to his ear. “Are you jealous?”

  Then I pushed around him and headed for the center of the dance floor.

  You might think he’d have his offices in the back. Or down below the floor, in a dungeon, where monsters like him should rot.

  But no. He kept his offices high above, and if I wanted in during business hours, I had to take the tube in the middle of the floor. Where he could see me coming.

  Garner was right behind me.

  I pretended not to notice.

  It wasn’t that hard. If he were going to try and hurt me, he’d have had more of his men with him, and he would have done it outside.

  That meant I had a bigger fear to concern myself with. I’d rather take pain over his other forms of keeping me in line. Pain was easy. The humiliations… Shudders gripped me, wrenched at me, even as I fought not to let Garner see any sign of what I was feeling.

  No matter what he’d said to get me here, my handler wouldn’t just let me walk away from a job like that.

  There would be a reckoning.

  And if he wouldn’t take it in blood, he’d take it in flesh.

  My body was already burning.

  My soul was already screaming.