Mission: Attack on Europa

by V. A. Jeffrey

  “So how do we get to them?” Asked Genevieve.

  “A brute force attack would be too dangerous. We need to conserve our weapons supply for the real fight. We need a way to sneak in. We need something. . .else.” He suddenly took up the magrit feather and ran his fingers through its soft tines on the left side. It turned blue and he set it back upon the table. I snorted.

  “What information are you looking for besides their hideout?” I asked. He regarded me quietly.

  “A place where I can purchase a special type of gas. Odorless, colorless. Deadly.” I caught my breath.

  “I don't want to kill anyone!” I hissed. He smiled. It was an unsettling look.

  “The gas, in tiny amounts, rendered mostly inert and in a non-lethal dose won't, but it will buy us time to find him and get him out. If they haven't already sold him. I need to find someone who can get it for us.”

  “I'll go with you,” I said.

  “That's fine,” said Rychik. We drank and schemed until I felt a sharp tap on my shoulder. It was Genevieve. A few members of the Sigra gang had sauntered in. One of the bastards had made his way into the place and was moving toward us, a nasty smirk on his face.

  “Just stay calm,” muttered Genevieve. Rychik carefully slipped the feather under the stone table. One of them, the human male in the gang, swaggered over, bold as day. It took all my self-control not to jump up and deck him.

  “Anyone lose something?” He taunted. He thinks he's being funny. I remained silent and stared into my drink. Diamond watched the scene closely in silence but I thought I could detect a wicked smirk on his face. Diamond, it seemed, was always up for mischief. And he seemed to take troubles in tow far better than I did. Good thing I brought him along.

  “I'm sorry, do we know you?” Said Genevieve. Two of them grunted in gutteral laughter.

  “Don't get your panties in a twist, sugar-”

  “Are you joking? We're all having a nice drink among friends. You don't look like friends. So why don't you all run along now?”

  “Aw come on, sugar, you don't know me?” Genevieve's face flushed dark red, her thin skin was taut, drawn. Her eyes flashed dangerously. Her irises enlarged as if she was recording their images for later use.

  “Should I? You don't look like anyone important around here.”

  “Besides, we don't have much to do with bottom feeding scum,”growled Tulos. The air changed as they came and stood around us. It crackled with tenseness. It became quieter in the establishment. Several security guards were watching closely as well as the Suwudi servers peeking out from behind the living shroud of mists that separated the customer areas from the serving areas of the place. I wondered why they didn't interrupt our little party over here.

  “Don't play games with us, woman!”

  “Who's playing games?” She said. “Mars is full of sand, son. One grain looks exactly like the next. You're not special and you hardly scare anyone around here.” That's right, chumps! This angered them but they checked themselves, aware that security was watching us all closely. Rychik had an evil gleam in his large, insectoid-looking eyes. The man glanced at him, the smirk gone. He spoke up.

  “Word is, a complaint was filed. I'm just here to let you know that things might not go down so well with you if it goes forward.” With that they left. I was seething. Genevieve put a hand on my shoulder.

  “You guys gonna let them get away with that?” Diamond whispered.

  “Obviously not,” said Rychik. “Patience and a cool head will prevail. Let them think they have the upper hand. They have shown that they have ears about the city to know what goes on. They aren't the only ones,” he said coolly. “Let us sit back and drink our ale. We will exact our revenge soon enough.” His eyes glittered like black ice while the rest of us were feeling hot under our collars.

  “When you get ready, I'm coming with you.” I said resolutely.

  “As you wish,” he said, setting the feather which had turned a dark blue, back onto the stone table top.

  . . .

  We moved through the city at midnight, two nights later. Cloaked and hooded like most of the night's denizens we fell into the backdrop like two small shadows. Rychik insisted that we walk instead of taking a ship so that there would be less chance of catching anyone's notice. I followed him as we strode down winding streets, dodged speeders and low flying carriers, nimbly avoided hanging electrical power cables and trash. He was fast, graceful and nearly silent. I felt like a small elephant rambling behind him. But my anger and adrenaline over the raw disrespect to my friends and the kidnapping of Will drove me to keep up. We entered a narrow street in a neighborhood full of crowded rundown buildings, some of them seeming to lean over, as if hovering over to listen to our secrets and watch us. We came to a round domicile sitting back behind wide steps and a steel wall. He chimed the door ringer. A window above us opened up and a wide beam of light blared down on us. It was a small security mech.

  “Who is it?” It asked. I detected a long, thin blaster pointed right at us. Rychik answered something in Hanga.

  “Who is this we're visiting?”

  “The Chemist. One of Judzou's inner circle. I believe you met him when you first came here.” I nodded. A few moments later the camera mounted at the front of the gate moved and scanned us and after a minute the doors slid open and we were invited in. The place was a lot tidier than I'd expected. A human woman greeted us. Or she looked human at first glance to me.

  “Welcome back, old friend,” she said. Her voice was raspy and deep as if it had endured years of smoking. In fact, she was holding a cigar that she was in the middle of lighting.

  “How are you, Linaya?” Asked Rychik.

  “Better than I deserve to be. I hate those tobacco bars with their synthetic smokes. I prefer the real thing,” she said after lighting up. “Don't you?” She took a long draw from it and blew out a large smoke line.

  “Nothing better,” said Rychik.

  “I heard you were looking for special substances. So, what can I help you fellows with?” she asked, closing and locking the door

  “I need a very special type of substance. We have a pest control problem. We need to fix it,” he said, looking at me.

  “Pest control? And which substance might you be looking for, my friend?” Rychik looked at me again and smiled. It was at once unexpected and slightly menacing. Though I called him friend, I had never seen him smile before. He seemed to me to be less honorable than Tulos and more ruthless. Remind me never to get on Rychik's bad side. I almost felt sorry for the thieves who thought they'd pulled something over on us. Almost.

  “A trace amount of InSarin is what I seek.” The dealer nodded her head slowly as she took another puff.

  “Bad pests, indeed,” said the woman in amusement. “I'll see what I can do for you. I happen to have some on hand this week. Wait here. Want a drink?” She asked, looking at me.

  “I'm fine. You?” He turned toward me. I shook my head, not sure what to say after hearing the lethal substance we were getting.

  “Make yourselves comfortable. I'll be back.” It was then that I finally noticed what was different about her. She had wings! Very thin, almost translucent wings that fluttered with hyper-lightening speed like a dragonfly but were nearly silent. Linaya was a black woman with long, thick twists of her jet black hair coiled and tied with elegant gold and copper hair bands. She had slanted brown eyes and was short and a bit on the round side. She ducked behind thick, weathered hangings infused with the exotic and strange scents of both Earthly and alien compounds and chemicals. I heard heavy meal doors open and shut behind the hangings.

  “Rychik! I don't want to kill anyone! Just get the android back!” I whispered.

  “I know that.”

  “Sarin? Come on!”

  “InSarin, if you please. I am purchasing a largely inert sample of Sarin, not the full potent thing. And only a trace amount. A half ounce in gas form.”

  “Have you used this stuff b
efore?”

  “I have. What of it?”

  “It's just that. . . back home only terrorists are known for using it. It's banned in the US and in many other places. It's difficult to control and extremely lethal even in small amounts.”

  “This isn't Earth. There are no such rules here. Besides, we have a war ahead of us. Will has suddenly become of utmost advantage to our cause.” He lowered his voice until it was barely audible. “It cannot be borne that others have him. We wouldn't bother with this if you hadn't said what you said about him anyway. He cannot stay in their hands.” I folded my arms into my cloak, casting a wary glance around the room.

  “Why would they do something like that when we have a looming war ahead of us?” I asked. Rychik shrugged.

  “A rogue only lives from day to day, satisfying his own needs like an animal. Some are just that and care not for anything that doesn't satisfy them today. They may have ideas of leaving here and joining smuggling rings or building empires for themselves. The Black Fleet is far, far away and most have assumed that the solargate plans were destroyed.” He gave me a meaningful look. I stiffened involuntarily at the mention of this.

  “There are many such rogues on Mars. They live by taking from others. Either you deal with them effectively or resign yourself to being a victim.” The look on my face softened his, ever so slightly and there seemed to be a slight note of empathy in his voice.

  “I won't kill them unless I have no other choice. They have you to thank for that, Robert. Little do they know how fortunate they are,” he said quietly. I sighed in great relief.

  “It's not that I can't kill to defend myself. In fact, I've already done so, but to go after someone when it isn't self-defense is what bothers me,” I said. He said nothing more.

  “So who is this friend of yours, Rychik? She looked human except she had wings which threw me for a loop,” I asked.

  “We go back some years. Her mother, the wife of an American prospector came here with her husband many years ago. He died of some illness and her mother took up with one of my kind. When that affair ended she left to go and live on one of the outer colonies near the asteroid belt. Linaya was raised there on various space stations. She came here a decade ago with very little to her name. Used to be part of a small smuggling ring whose headquarters were located near the asteroid belt. The gang dispersed and she decided to make her fortunes farther out. She came here with a few valuable goods she'd acquired through connections in her smuggling days.”

  “Looks like she's made quite a living for herself.” I muttered. While modest on the inside and downright shabby outside I'd learned not to judge a place by its outside facade while here. Her place was well furnished with what looked like quality pieces of antique furniture and a few well placed art pieces, human and alien.

  “Feel free to relax yourself,” he said. Rychik sat down, taking up a long white cigar from a polished wooden case in an old southern sugar chest.

  “She knows her stuff.” I gazed at the chest. “My mother-in-law would kill for something like that.” Rychik grunted. He lit up his cigar the flame turning blue and it glowed with brilliant blue light as he took a drag. His eyes seemed to glow slightly with the same color or perhaps it was just the reflection of the light of the embers that I saw in them. He drew in a deep breath and the tip of the cigar smoldered with a thin rim of light as he settled in to relax with his cigar.

  “Is that okay?” I asked cautiously.

  “They're for guests,” he said simply.

  “Well, in that case. . .” I took one of the unusual looking and, I thought, prized cigars from the chest and stuffed it in a pocket under my cloak. For Diamond. I reasoned. I didn't smoke but if he did he might appreciate it. If not, well I thought I might try it out. I looked around the room again. Along with a few art pieces, what looked like original pieces, though one never really knew these days – from artists of the Hudson Bay school of art, Thomas Cole and Albert Bierstadt. There were also some landscape works by Thomas Gainsborough, One of my favorites. I could be transported to those peaceful, rugged and sublime works of nature. A radical contrast to the harsh, stark red deserts of Mars surrounding us.

  I saw in a far corner a spherical aquarium. As I approached I saw a strange looking sea anenome. It was a brilliantly colored green with sharp tendrils that fanned out like the petals of a luxurious dhalia. It's inner circle of tendrils slowly changed color from green to blue to purple and back to blue and it seemed to shiver and shift its shape slightly. The creature pulsed slowly, fattening itself and then constricting in a rythmic movement.

  “That's a ligdu,” she said, suddenly appearing from behind her hangings carrying a small, hermetically sealed steel box. She was wearing gloves.

  “And what's that?” I asked, examining it. It disappeared suddenly and reappeared again as if out of mists.

  “It's a pan-dimensional being, you know.” I gazed in fascination.

  “Has anyone studied this? I mean, on Eraut?” I asked.

  “Of course. But much of that is either lost or known only to those who live beyond Mars. I know this, certain simple animals can live across dimensions and travel them quite easily but for higher life forms to duplicate the same thing takes enormous amounts of power and energy so vast that to do it is not financially feasible. Humans have found the same issue. We have only just learned how to travel among the stars.” I didn't say anything about the breakthrough Richard had been killed for. It seemed to me that it worked on similar principles. By opening a hole in one place and time to another location in place and time. But I wasn't exactly a scientist either. Rychik remained silent, enjoying his pipe, watching us through half closed eyes.

  “It does hold a key to what we might do in the future. It also secretes a substance that is deadly when weaponized. It can disintegrate entire ships. Or so I've been told,” she said thoughtfully.

  “I'm sure that would take about a million of those. . .ligdu animals.” I said. She nodded.

  “And this creature is endangered. There aren't many left from the labs that were raided on the hive ship years ago. Or that was the story told to me from the man I got it from.” I wondered how she got it from the man. Whether through purchase or some darker means. I didn't ask. And she didn't expound on the subject any further.

  “Here is your purchase, gentlemen.” She set the box on the sugar chest. Rychik pulled out from under his cloak a long, rectangular satchel and handed it to her. She unfolded and untied it and counted what looked like minted money, glinting with either gold or some other metal plus some paper currency. She folded it back up and placed her hands on her wide hips.

  “Good doing business with you, Rychik. Always a pleasure. And a pleasure to meet you too,” she said, smiling at me.

  “Always,” he said, taking up the box and slipping it under his cloak.

  “It was nice meeting you too, Linaya.” I said. Well now. I thought. Now, to the business.

  7

  On returning back to base Rychik settled himself at the table in the Red Room, just beyond the machine shop.

  “So just what are we planning to do with this substance, Rychik?”

  “We have a few things to do before this is used.” The others eventually filed in and sat around the table.

  “So, the heist.” Rychik looked around at everyone carefully before proceeding. “I know for a fact that these thieves have a standing order of dark seed ale each month. Expensive brew. Makes people see visions. Difficult for most to get hold of.” Tulos made a sound of displeasure.

  “It used to be that the elixir of the dark seed was sacred. Only for use by the mystics. An offense!”

  “Yes, well, these days, Tulos, people care not for such things,” said Rychik. “The shipment comes in a small white carrier. A lingflyer.”

  “When does this shipment come in?” I asked.

  “That's just the thing. We need to watch who and what comes and goes from their hideout, and when.”

  “A
stakeout.”

  “Yes.”

  “And where is their hideout again?” Asked Genevieve.

  “South of the biggest dynashan in Syzygy, at a dead end. I know exactly where it is. I was given the coordinates here.” He set a datapad down, tapped an image on the screen and a holographic map of this small area of the city sprang into view.

  “That's a rather rough part of the city,” noted Tulos.

  “Well where else do you expect scumbags like them to hideout?” Growled Genevieve.

  “How long will this stakeout take?” Asked Diamond.

  “Just a week, I think. There are only eight more days left in this month.” Rychik looked around at each of us again as if looking for final agreement. “I have the substance in gas form. It is highly volatile and lethal if not handled properly.”

  “We'll let you handle it, as you're the expert,” said Tulos. There was a series of beeps on a comlink. Genevieve got up and went to her computer console, tapped the screen and answered it.

  “Yes, Admiral Suttu, this is Genevieve.”

  “Genevieve. We are convening in three days at the Oculus. Have your team ready to attend. It will be our last meeting of strategy before we move.” It was the growly voice of Suttu. It startled me, sounding like mountains rubbing together. “The Martian Allied Powers are gathering for the coming storm.”

  “Yes, Admiral Suttu. My team will be ready. We will be there.”

  “Good. And Genevieve, we've encountered a problem. It will be discussed once you arrive.” There was a decided click and the room went silent. Right in the middle of our own plans. I buried my head in my hands and rubbed them over my face and hair. I was already exhausted and things hadn't even heated up yet. I'm sure we were all wondering what problem had come up. I know I was.