by JC Cassels
“Show me your hands.”
The business end of a pistol pressed into the back of his skull. Blade slowly raised his hands, relaxing his hold on the blaster. The weapon was snatched from his hand.
“Move… Out there.”
The weapon pressed harder, forcing him forward. Resisting the instincts of his training, Blade stepped slowly out onto the stage, hands raised, careful to keep contact with the blaster against his skull.
One more unaccounted for.
He glanced around the auditorium, spotting Kayne, the odd-loking little humanoid called Phinny, and Adin and Jetta in the balcony. His gaze settled on a movement in the shadows at the rear of the balcony. There he was, the final gunman.
“Nobody move…” the man behind him didn’t have time to finish his instructions. In a fluid movement, Blade turned and disarmed him, shot him in the face, then turned his weapon up into the shadows of the balcony. He fired again. As the last gunman rolled down the steps, stopping at Jetta’s feet, Jetta screamed and threw her arms around Adin’s neck. Blade cast one final look around the auditorium, then relaxed his aim.
Adin’s arms went around Jetta, comforting her. His lips quirked in a sardonic smile as he met Blade’s stare. He nodded his thanks.
“So, do I get the part?” Blade asked. “I find myself between holofeatures at the moment.”
“Hell of an audition,” Adin called out. “You’re hired.”
“There’s just one thing,” Blade said. “I need to get off planet – now.”
“Local trouble?” Adin called out.
“Nope.” He flashed the lopsided grin that had made him famous. “Any minute now this place is going to be crawling with IC security. I’d like to have broken grav when that happens.”
“Can you pay?”
“Not before the IC freezes all my accounts,” Blade said, “but I have people who will cover your expenses. Besides, I can offer you something more valuable than credits.”
Phinny, the elfin little humanoid sidled up to him and peered up at him curiously, tossing his long black hair over his shoulder. “What’s that?” he asked dubiously.
“Me.”
Adin stopped in front of him, panting with the exertion of running down the steps. “No offense, but you’re not my type.”
“Nor you mine,” Blade said, keeping his voice low. “I’m IC trained – a Predator.”
Kayne’s eyes widened and he took a step back. “You really are an assassin?”
Blade nodded. “Among other things,” he said. “If you boys are going to do this for a living, you need training. I can do that.”
Adin studied him with a sardonic smile. “What’s in it for you?”
“I need to disappear, and I need to do it now. If you three hope to get out of here with your skins intact, you’ll leave now and take me with you. This place is going to be crawling with law enforcement and IC before you know it.”
As if on cue, the nearing wail of emergency sirens drifted through the still-open door.
With a questioning glance at his associates, Adin came to a decision. Nodding, he offered Blade his hand. “Welcome to the team.”
Blade shook his hand. Well, that was easy. Now all they had to do was make it off-planet, and then he could figure out where he was going to meet up with Bo. The IC would probably look for him on Altair as soon as they figured out what he’d done. Together, the four men headed for the exit.
“Blade?” Jetta called from the balcony. “Where are you going? You’re not leaving with them, are you?”
Pausing only long enough to turn and sweep a low bow in her general direction, Blade winked at her. “Haven’t you heard, Jetta? I’ve been traumatized by the recent attacks on my person. I’ve lost touch with reality, and now I’m running away to join a traveling band of actors who specialize in acts of heroism.”
“But Blade, they’re not actors! Blade?”
“Good-bye, Jetta,” he called. “Good luck with your diary.”
With one last wave of farewell, he stepped out into the brilliant Cormoran sunlight, pulling the door to the theater shut behind him with a reverberating clang of finality, cutting off Jetta’s attempts to call him back.
Without a backward glance, he slid into the back seat of the waiting ground cruiser beside Adin.
As Kayne, behind the controls, drove them out of the gate to the studio lot, they passed the heavy black cruiser containing his IC security detail, finally gaining admittance. Blade turned to look out the back window as they passed, making sure the security detail didn’t turn to follow them. When they showed no inclination to do so, Blade faced forward, breathing a sigh of relief. He pulled his com-set out of his jacket pocket and pried off the back panel. Carefully, using his fingernails, he pried a small chip from the board.
“Here,” he said, and handed it to Adin.
Adin held the chip up to the light, squinting in an effort to read the markings. “What’s this?”
“Tracking device,” Blade said replacing the panel on his com-set. “The IC triggers it to send a signal so they can keep track of agents in the field.” He met Adin’s stare. “I don’t want to be found.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“…that’s when gravity took over. There I was sitting in this shopping cart with no way to steer the thing racing down the hill to the river, sparks flying from the chain as it hit the pavement and my trousers on fire where I’d spilled the lighter fluid on them…”
“Don’t forget the bird!” Phinny said.
Kayne nodded, gesturing wildly along with his story. “And I’m holding this bird someone borrowed.” He waggled his eyebrows meaningfully. “It’s flapping and carrying on. I’m screaming my head off, and my friends are up at the top of the hill pissing themselves laughing.” He paused to catch his breath, grinning over the memory. “My buddies, Ghee and Boot, are down on the bank phib-gigging and they don’t hear all the ruckus as I’m coming straight at them going twice the speed of light. By the time they look up and see me, the bird and this giant fireball bearing down on them, they dive into the river, phibs going everywhere. About that time, the cart hits the curb, and that’s when inertia comes in. She’s a bitch and a half, let me tell you. The cart stops, but me and the bird and the fireball keep going. I’m airborne, the bird’s about to have a coronary and my ass is starting to feel a mite toasty. The bird finally decides she’s had enough and makes a grand escape. I’m flapping my arms faster than the damn bird, trying to make it to the river. Somehow, I belly flop in the middle of the current, the fire goes out, but now my front is stinging as bad as my backside. Boot pulls me out before I can drown, and Ghee’s beating me with the gig bucket, nine kinds of furious for scaring them like that.”
Blade’s side ached from laughing so hard.
“To add insult to injury, Aubry shows up with his game warden badge on his lab coat,” Kayne went on. “He was part-time game warden, but his regular job was making teeth. The caretaker, Preacher Karr, called to report us. So when they hauled us out of the river, my trousers were burned off, my ass was shining in the sunlight in front of the Maker and everybody, and Aubry asks for our IDs!” He paused long enough to swig his ale and take a long breath. “Like he doesn’t know who we are, right? So Aubry hauls us in for phib poaching, and who happens to be on the bench but my mother. She looks over at me and says ‘Kayne Raith Logan, may I assume that you and your friends are skipping school today?’” Kayne waited for the fresh peals of laughter to die down. “The trial took four hours, with two hours of jury deliberation – one hour to determine my guilt and another hour to come up with my sentence. For my punishment, my mother made me walk home through the middle of the settlement with my ass hanging out.”
“So the game warden made teeth, too?” Blade asked once he caught his breath.
Kayne shrugged. “That’s life on a colony for you. You can’t rely on supply ships for all your needs. You’ve got to be self-sufficient somehow.”
“Hey
look! We made the news!” Phinny pointed to one of the holovid displays flickering near the bar.
Blade reached over and gently lowered Phinny’s arm. “Not a good plan to shout stuff like that in public,” he said.
Sure enough, the vid display showed the highlights of the shootout in the theater, before settling on a publicity still of Blade from The Watchtower. Blade glanced casually around the crowded bar, noting that the attention of most patrons was on a stinger ball match that dominated most of the displays.
“Hey, they think we kidnapped you,” Kayne said.
Glancing back to the news display, the caption MISSING AND BELIEVED KIDNAPPED flashed under his image.
“Yeah, that would be my publicist trying to do some damage control,” he said. “Don’t worry. I won’t be pressing charges.”
Blade lifted his mug, prepared to dismiss the news reports, when the next headline caught his eye.
THE BARRON ASSASSINATED. AUTHORITIES SEEKING INNER CIRCLE AGENT IN CONNECTION WITH MURDER. His mouth open, Blade’s hand stopped as cold fear gripped his chest. Icy tremors shot through his veins. Bhruic’s image replaced that of the news reader. BARRON FOUND MURDERED. AGENT ROYCE BARRON SOUGHT FOR QUESTIONING.
Dimly he became aware of Adin calling his name.
Glancing around, he noticed the three men staring at him. Forcing a neutral expression, he took a long swig from his mug before setting it down on the table.
“Hmm?” he asked. “Did you say something?”
Adin’s eyes narrowed as he studied him. “What’s wrong?”
Blade waved away his concern. “Ah nothin’. I was just thinking I should check in before my publicist brings the local constabulary down on us.”
Coming to his feet, he excused himself and headed directly for the com booths. Finding an empty one, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The clear walls frosted over, obscuring the view from the outside. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Blade tapped in the connect code for the apartment on Altair, trying not to notice the way his hands trembled. He didn’t have long before the call completion code sounded and the frosted walls became holographic representations of his apartment. Instead of Bo, her cousin Tese stood in front of him. Tears streaked her face.
“Oh, Blade…”
“I just saw the news,” he said. “How’s Bo?”
Tese shook her head helplessly. “She’s… It’s bad. Galen walked in and found Royce in the act of killing him. As soon as Edge found out, he contacted the D’or Choh and Aunt Misou sent me over. I found her curled up on the lav floor mad with grief. I just got her to bed.”
“Stay with her, Tese,” Blade said. “Don’t leave her alone. I’m on my way.”
“Hurry, Blade,” Tese said. “I’m really worried about her.”
Blade disconnected the call and sagged against the wall. He stared at the control panel for a long moment before pushing himself upright and leaving the booth. As he rounded the corner into the bar to rejoin his new friends, he conjured a jaded smile. They looked up as he approached. Adin looked concerned.
“Who’s up for a trip to Altair?” he asked. “I’ve got a friend who says he can get us into the Imperial Baths, but we need to leave now if we want to catch him. What do you say? Joy Babe central and I’ve got a credit line there the IC can’t touch.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“You’ve had training,” Adin said, breaking the silence.
Blade looked up from the news report on the data reader he’d borrowed from Kayne. He’d lost track of his own after Chase had been shot. He missed it. “I’m sorry?”
“You have a very ordered mind for a non-native telepath,” Adin said. “You’re difficult to read.”
He wasn’t surprised Adin had been trying to read his thoughts. He’d thought he’d felt the near-constant attempts to touch his mind. Delians really couldn’t help themselves; they were a famously nosy people, especially when they sensed someone was hiding something. Blade shrugged and tried to turn his attention back to his reading. “It’s the Predator training,” he said with a dismissive smile. “It gives you a mental toughness that other branches of the service don’t develop.”
“Yeah…, I don’t think so.” Adin lit a cigarette and took a long drag while he studied him. “You’ve studied with someone – a master.”
Blade didn’t look at him. He didn’t have to. The Delian’s presence on the edge of his thoughts loomed like a star, threatening to burn away his resistance.
“Why do you say that?”
“Your technique is extraordinary,” Adin said. “Not even Delians are so closed.”
Blade’s lips quirked. He continued to scan the news reports. “I’m immune to flattery,” he said.
The conversation lapsed back into silence as the two men dueled with their minds. Gradually Blade became aware that the intensity of Adin’s probing against his mental barriers faded and blurred until it was more of a mellow hand stroking the edge of his mind than stabbing claws. Glancing up, Blade found the other man staring at him, his green eyes distant and unfocused.
“Are you high?” Blade asked.
Adin shook his head and his stare sharpened. “Not in the traditional sense.” He held up the smoldering butt of his cigarette. “These are a special Delian blend of herbs. They react chemically with the part of the brain that controls telepathy. Sometimes being around non-telepaths gets too intense, particularly when I’m in a crowd or on a station. Smoking helps me shut out certain stimuli. Right now I’m shutting out Kayne. Can you tell why?”
The challenge hung in the air between them. Blade’s spine stiffened. He may be immune to flattery, but he never backed down from a challenge. It was the reason he raced; it was the reason he played Five-Point: he was too competitive for his own good. Adin’s lips curled in a smug smile, as if he knew Blade couldn’t resist picking up the gauntlet.
By his own admission, the Delian had dulled his senses. Gauging the risk to himself to be minimal, he estimated that he could keep Adin’s probing attempts to get into his mind at bay while he took a quick look at Kayne. Against his better judgment, Blade lowered his borrowed data reader and reached out with his senses for Kayne. His awareness slipped past Adin, traveling further along. He dismissed Phinny’s white noise of barely-contained kinetic energy, pushing further until he found Kayne.
Without Tahar’s guidance, he felt a little out of his element.
Taking a deep breath, he tentatively pushed deeper into the auric bubble that was Kayne’s energy, feeling it close around him with a tiny wobble as if he’d just ducked below the surface of a pool of water. He stilled and waited for the sensations coming from Kayne to settle into a pattern that made sense.
His heart rate and respiration increased to match Kayne’s and his every nerve ending erupted in rippling waves of exploding energy.
“Holy…”
It all solidified around him with voyeuristic clarity. In that moment, he knew Kayne more intimately than he’d ever wanted to know another man. With great alacrity, Blade released Kayne’s aura and his awareness contracted rapidly until he was once again completely self-contained in his own psyche. Feeling like he’d just surfaced from a great depth, Blade drew a deep, gasping breath and met Adin’s amused smile.
“You shit!”
Blade threw the data reader at him. Adin caught it with a grin and set it on the table.
“You did that on purpose!”
“Of course,” Adin said. “You weren’t letting me in, so I had to.”
“That’s just wrong!”
“Yes it is.” Adin’s grin widened. “But it was the only way to find out what I wanted to know. You’re very good.”
“You’re a son of a kretch.”
“You didn’t learn to do that through Inner Circle training,” Adin said. “Someone named Tahar taught you?”
Annoyed with himself for revealing more than he’d intended. Blade nodded.
“Wasn’t Tahar the name of the holy
man in Life and Times of Cantrell?”
Again, Blade nodded.
“That was a bio about the start of the Trade Wars, wasn’t it?”
Blade heaved a sigh. It would be better to give Adin enough information to satisfy his curiosity, else he’d be under constant psychic attack.
“We went to Kah Lahtrec to shoot that one. Tahar and the Tryrium were friends of Cantrell’s,” Blade explained. “I was fortunate enough to become friends with them myself while researching the role. When I crashed in the Catarrh, I went to Kah Lahtrec to recuperate from my injuries. Tahar stayed with me to take care of me. He took me under his wing and taught me the Lahtrecki disciplines. I taught him how to play Five-Point.” Blade shrugged. “He cheats.”
Adin nodded. He picked up the pack of cigarettes from the table and held it out to Blade in silent offer. With a small sigh, Blade leaned over and pulled a cigarette from the pack. He stared at it a long moment, debating his next step. He hadn’t smoked anything since the day his brother was killed. Glancing up, he met Adin’s expectant stare.
Unwilling to explain himself, Blade reached over and helped himself to Adin’s lighter. He placed the cigarette between his lips and lit it, forestalling any questions. Taking a long drag, he waited for the smoke to take effect. He didn’t have long to wait. By his third drag, the psychic chatter he still hadn’t gotten entirely used to faded away, leaving him feeling normal for the first time since he’d begun training with Tahar.
A contented sigh escaped his lips as he leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. Tension seeped from his shoulders as he began to relax – at last.
“Thank the Maker,” he said. “This makes meeting you lads completely worth it.”
“Here.” The pack rustled as Adin shoved it across the table to him. “Take it. I’ve got more.”
Opening one eye, Blade reached for the pack and tucked it into his jacket pocket. “Much obliged.”
“Why were you so upset over The Barron being assassinated?”
Blade took another long drag on the cigarette and sat up. Reaching out, he tapped the ashes into the ash plate on the table. “The man accused of killing him is an IC agent,” he said, “his brother Royce. I regarded both of them as friends.”