Heart of a Traitor

by Aaron Lee Yeager

  Louie Faust was in charge of all of the gambling houses in Steiermark, probably a test by his father to build up his son’s abilities before he succeeded him as head of the syndicate. Officially, gambling was illegal on Ardura. To skirt around this problem, gambling houses gave out small prizes, which could then be conveniently sold at a small separate shop next door for money. The police and the Bergermiester looked the other way, since the gambling houses brought in a huge amount of tax revenue.

  Louie Faust liked to pay unscheduled visits to his properties and checked their coffers to make sure that nothing was being skimmed off of the top. Although Louie looked like an ape, he was actually quite clever. A keen administrator who promoted efficient, loyal people to the top and eliminated the incompetent, no matter how powerful their families were. He kept his houses well stocked and didn’t water down the liquor. They offered many popular gambling venues, as well as some exotic games to keep their clientele interested, and only used the rigged games when off-worlders came in to play, which Taka had discovered when she blew her entire expense account on the Jatlat table one night.

  During the evenings, Louie enjoyed spending time at some of his father’s more exclusive Dirne houses, where the clientele would enjoy the finest exotic foods and entertainment from all corners of the galaxy and there was always a plentiful supply of beautiful women. Already it appeared that these Dirne houses would be their best opportunity, since the Achatberg palace, where Louie lived with the rest of his family, was less of a palace and more of a fortress, really.

  Since Nariko would play point once they had a good feel for Louie’s movements and the best plan of approach had been agreed upon, she was kept out of the rotation as much as possible. Unfortunately, that meant she had little to do for most of the day but walk around in the immodest clothing Inami had provided for this mission and try her best to discourage the numerous male suitors that frequently approached her.

  Nariko was studying a group of women who were politely chatting with each other as they perused through a new shipment of precious stones that had just arrived that day.

  The sound of them all talking is almost exactly the same as the swans my family kept in the lake behind their estate.

  Nariko caught herself in surprise at the observation. It was always surprising to her when she stumbled upon a memory that was still intact. When she had time later, she would sift through it carefully to see what she could deduce about her life from it, like the way an archaeologist will glean as much as possible about a long-dead culture from the etchings on a stone left behind.

  Nariko leaned against the smooth brick wall of the building behind her. Without the null-suit, the weight of her chest made her back ache and her shoulders stiff, her corset crushed her ribs and the heels she wore made her toes sore.

  Don’t the women of this planet wear anything that doesn’t cause pain?

  A young man walked by that caught Nariko’s attention. His hair was greasy and unkempt, his fingernails painted black. He was wearing tattered and torn robes. At first Nariko thought his skin and clothes were smeared with mud, but on closer inspection she realized that they were actually painted to look like they were stained with mud. So resplendent and clean was everything else on this world that his presence stuck out like a sore thumb.

  “Anyone bother to ask our good Don what the data is on these kids dressed like they’re homeless?” Nariko asked lazily.

  “Oh, yeah, I did ask about that,” Keiko answered. He said they’re locals called schurkes. Young nobles who mimic the dress and behavior of the poor people on nearby worlds.”

  “What kind of sense does that make?”

  “Apparently the young ladies really go for it; they think it makes them appear really masculine.”

  Since when does masculine equal filthy?

  “Saku-chan,” Keiko intoned through the comm-link, “You’re getting too far south. Head north a few blocks.”

  “Raikyo,” Sakurako affirmed.

  “Hey Keiko,” Nariko sub-vocalized, “that group of women standing over there in the jewelry market...”

  From Keiko’s vantage point from the bell tower of the Saint Gerome Basilica, Nariko guessed that she would be able to see the market through her viewfinder.

  “What about them?” Keiko asked.

  “That woman in the red hat. She’s wearing vertical stripes. A slender woman like her shouldn’t do that, should she?”

  “It’s coral, not red, but you’re right, it gives the illusion of her being even skinnier and will make her look flat-chested,” Keiko affirmed.

  “And her friend is a little small on top and a little big in the backside, but she’s wearing a dark colored top with a white skirt. I seem to remember you mentioning that as a faux pas.”

  “No, that’s right. Lighter colors draw emphasis and make things look bigger, while dark colors de-emphasize. She’s got it backwards. The outfit she’s wearing will make her chest look even smaller and her backside look even bigger. She should wear dark-colored skirt with a light-colored top.”

  There was a pause before Keiko continued.

  “I’m impressed, Nari, you’re picking this stuff up really quickly.”

  “Before long we’ll have our fearless Oppa-mon curtsying in a ball-gown for her charming prince,” Taka kidded through the comm-link.

  “Well, with your wings, I guess that would make you my guardian-fairy, then, wouldn’t it, Taka?” Nariko retorted. Nariko could hear the laughter of the rest of the squad through the comm-link.

  “I think Nariko just made her first joke,” Sorano pointed out.

  Gasps of feigned astonishment clogged the comm-line.

  “Ami, stat-rep,” Keiko said, getting back on task.

  “I’m having trouble keeping up with the mark in these sandals,” Ami whined, breathing heavily.

  “If you can’t do a pursuit in sandals, then you should have worn boots,” Keiko admonished.

  “Boots wouldn’t look right with the clothes I’m wearing,” Ami argued.

  “Okay, forget it” Keiko sighed. “Nari you’re next in the rotation. The mark is northwest of you, moving east. It looks like he’s headed for house seven. If you go three blocks east and two north, through the Uderschlois, you should make contact.”

  “Raikyo,” Nariko affirmed as she began to walk, happy to be active again. Oddly enough, there were no street names in Steiermark, which made it very difficult to navigate the city. Supposedly the reason for this was because local people had lived there long enough to know where everything was, so they would not need street names. The real reason, of course, was to make off-worlders more easily visible and feel less welcomed.

  Nariko walked briskly down the clean streets. Arduran architecture favored wide brick and stone buildings with curving dome roofs. Gold trim was used quite often, as was marble. As Nariko weaved efficiently among the people, many of them stared at her distrustfully, unaccustomed to seeing a woman as tall as she was. The people loved their city. Nariko could tell by the way they carried themselves and the way they put their litter in their pockets until they came by a waste receptacle, instead of throwing it onto the street as was common on other worlds.

  But they feared their city also. Nariko could feel it in the air, like the way you respect the beauty of a wild animal. The decisions made in these buildings affected more than a hundred worlds every day. The fate of countless millions were determined here by noble families, many of whom had never actually set foot upon the worlds they ruled over. Behind the shining statues and clear-water canals there was a shadow that hung over the city. An imperilment. During the mid-day sun it retreated into the cracks, but it never disappeared. No one escaped its touch. Now, as evening approached, the shadows of the city were free to roam around and the shell of safety felt very thin.

  Nariko turned north. Before her lay the enormous silhouette of the Kaiser’s Palace, the Uderschlois, whose ebony spires ran across the center of the city like a great spinal cord.
Darkening in the shadow of the failing suns, it was quite an imposing sight. Several grand tunnels ran through its lower levels, allowing traffic to pass through without having to go around. The street Nariko was on led into one such tunnel.

  Workers were busy laying down a new layer of cobblestone in the tunnel. Because of their powerful union lobby, the ministry of roads in Steiermark was required by law to spend their entire budget every year, which meant that there was always construction going on, whether the roads needed it or not.

  As Nariko approached the tunnel entrance she felt a sense of unease, which grew into a burning sensation, as if she were standing in front of a furnace. She halted in her steps and scanned the area for the source of the discomfort. Within moments she saw it. Sacred wards written on hand-pressed paper had been affixed to the entrance of the tunnel with wax seals.

  Nariko felt her skin burning, even from this far away. Just looking at them made her eyes sting with pain and she turned her head away in frustration.

  “It’s no good,” she sub-vocalized. “Some Abbot with way too much time on his hands has put up a barrier.”

  “Understood,” Keiko responded, “Sorano, you’re closest right now, so you’re back in the rotation.”

  “It’s not my turn, Don Kielter’s up next,” Sorano protested.

  “He’s turned off his vox-link, again. I don’t know where he is,” Keiko informed.

  “Raikyo,” Sorano huffed through the vox-link.

  A group of women walked past Nariko and entered the tunnel effortlessly. Surrounded by a crowd of people, she felt quite alone. She took out her sunglasses and put them on. She did not like being reminded of the temple at Kall, where even the lowliest peasant could enter when she could not. She didn’t want to think about that ever again if she could help it. She was tired of constantly being reminded of things she was trying to forget. She felt herself getting angry at the whole situation.

  Can’t I have even one day of peace? Is that too much to ask for? Besides, it was an affront to her warrior’s pride to be defeated by a small piece of paper. She wished that she was back on the Onikano, so that she could go to the training hall and high kick one of the training dummies until it broke in half, or go to the live ammunition range and take her aggression out on targeting drones. But she couldn’t do any of those things here. She wished for something she could do to vent her frustration.

  As Nariko turned away from the tunnel and walked back down the street, a middle-aged man approached her with a predatory look in his eyes.

  “Excuse me,” he said suavely, “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

  “What? No.”

  The man jumped sideways, disappearing into an alleyway and then walked back out again.

  “How about love at second sight?” he asked, teeth gleaming.

  This one has more style than most. I thought I had heard them all, but that was a new one.

  His eyes flicked over her body hungrily and Nariko felt her stomach churn in disgust.

  “Thanks, but no thanks” she croaked and began to walk away.

  “Hey, don’t just run off like that,” the man demanded as he followed her. “My name’s Jaeg. Is everything okay?”

  “Please leave me alone,” Nariko hissed, feeling the last of her patience dissolve.

  “Look, if you are lost I’d be happy to help. I happen to be a...”

  His sentence was cut off when Nariko’s right knee impacted his abdomen.

  “I said no!”

  Nariko spun around and delivered a high kick to the side of his head, knocking him to the ground. Nariko’s skirt, having never been designed with such maneuvers in mind, tore up to the hip.

  Jaeg’s face turned white and his eyes bulged as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the cobblestone street. Several onlookers showed their disdain as they passed.

  Nariko’s eyes became frightened and she took a step back to avoid him

  What just happened? Did I just...

  Nariko left Jaeg moaning and walked as briskly as her heels would allow, her arms folded in concern.

  “What was that sound I heard?” Keiko asked over the comm-line.

  “N-nothing. Just some pervert that had no idea what he was getting into,” Nariko sub-vocalized.

  “You know, Nari, you can’t just call every man who finds you attractive a pervert. They’re supposed to find you attractive. We spend hours each day trying to make you as attractive as possible. Honestly, with the way we’ve got you dressed, we might as well hang a sign around your neck that says, ‘please treat me like a piece of meat,’ so you can hardly blame them for reading the sign.”

  “You are too eager to excuse bad behavior, Keiko. You make it sound like men are hard-wired to act this way and they don’t have any control over it.”

  “And you make it sound so one-sided. Women are hard-wired to find men attractive too, you know.”

  Nariko turned her head to the side as she walked and tugged on a loose strand of her hair. “Some women, perhaps.”

  “Oh, please.”

  “I’m serious. As a Senshi, we are trained to control our thoughts and be chaste in our actions,” Nariko defended. “You should know that.”

  “Oh, you are such a liar!” Keiko accused. “You forget that I was in your squad back before the fall of Correll. Remember the Gill-rosh cleansing, when you met Saint Christopher? I saw you checking him out when he walked away.”

  “Nonsense! I was lowering my eyes out of respect.”

  “You were checking out his hindquarters and you know it!”

  Nariko could hear the sounds of Sorano and Taka laughing over the comm-line.

  “Oppa-mon is a butt girl! She likes the bootay!” Taka shouted.

  Nariko yanked off her earring and nearly threw it away, before she caught herself and put it into her purse instead. She knew that she was breaking mission protocol by removing herself from the comm-link, but right now she didn’t care.

  She was sick and tired of having to deal with these people. Her life was an absolute wreck and there was nothing she could do about it. Her expensive red dress was torn up the side and she was positive that Taka had stolen money out of her purse.

  Nariko wandered the streets for quite some time, mentally cursing everything and anyone she could think of. She kicked over a potted plant that happened to get in her way and physically shoved away a male suitor whose timing could not have been worse.

  Nariko stopped and looked at her reflection in a shoppe window. The angle of the glass made her image look crooked and distorted.

  It’s getting worse. It’s taking less and less for me to become her. That last time I didn’t even feel it coming on. It was like a switch just flipped inside of me.

  After walking aimlessly for a while, Nariko decided that walking wasn’t going to help her feel better, so she bought some fudge from a chocolate shop and that actually did help quite a bit.

  Next door was a baking goods store, which seemed to specialize in the older hand tools used when food was prepared live in front of guests. Silver pasta molds, seaweed pressers, natural-wood rice cookers, and stone carved ramekins.

  Nariko found herself strolling down the aisles in fascination. With so many tools and implements hanging on the walls, it looked very much like an armory, but none of it was used for killing. It reminded Nariko of something she had forgotten, that human ingenuity and creativity found expression in all the arts, not only warfare.

  I wonder if they have the stuff to make pork dumplings?

  Her thoughts were interrupted when Don Kielter slapped her on the back with his usual greeting. He was the last person she wanted to talk to right now.

  “What are you doing here? Why’d you turn off your link?” Nariko asked, twisting away from him.

  “Mission stuff,” he boasted. “I’m gonna get us a VIP pass to one of the Dirne clubs, so that we can make a copy.”

  “How?” Nariko asked doubtfully.

  “See that lo
vely young heiress over there?”

  Don Kielter pointed across the street to a woman sitting at a table in an outdoor café, politely sipping her tea. He gregariously waved to her and she smiled timidly back.

  “She’s gonna invite me to go with her tonight,” he swanked.

  “You said that Arduran women would only invite their husbands and boyfriends to a Dirne house. You can’t expect her to invite someone she just met,” Nariko argued.

  “Well, I got a good feeling about this one,” he admitted.

  “How can you be so sure of yourself?” Nariko asked. “You only just met this woman. How do you know she’s not a plant?”

  Don Kielter clucked his tongue and moved his hands as if to parry a blow with a sword.

  “No one is that good of an actor. Oh and I told her that you were my ex-girlfriend, so let’s have us a kiss to convince her, eh?”

  Don Kielter leaned in, but Nariko just shoved him away in revulsion. Chuckling to himself, he returned over to his table and continued talking to the woman there.

  Nariko walked off, her mood darkening again, although she did perk up a bit when she imagined Don Kielter getting slapped by his date for his indecent proposal.

  After crossing through the park, Nariko stopped in front of a flower shoppe. She caught herself staring at an unusual flower arrangement of yellow Helianthus flowers. The familiar feeling of loss came over her. She always felt like this when she saw flowers like these.

  I felt the same way back on Tridia. Are these flowers supposed to mean something to me? She couldn’t guess what it might be, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was there, like motion caught at the very edge of your vision, that catches your attention and makes you turn your head.

  Her thoughts were broken by the realization that someone was standing behind her. She turned around and saw a man in a business suit, a police badge attached to his collar indicating that he had been working undercover in regular civilian attire.