The Great Game Trilogy

by O. J. Lowe

  You’re going to die; the green shadow’s look appeared to silently say. You’re all going to die and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The end is coming, little boy, and nothing will halt that. What was before will be again.

  It ran the knife across Mia’s throat, teasing the pale skin there with the sharp end. Dust and dreams, they all end the same, they’ll trickle through your fingers… Droplets ran down her neck, a thin stream of blood that trickled into her cleavage. He gulped.

  “Don’t,” he whispered. It felt insignificant in the silence. Malevolence filled the air and he repeated it. “Don’t.” He got the impression the green shadow was laughing at him, shaking in silent mirth at his begging. “DON’T!”

  Scott was screaming now, he didn’t care who knew it. Yeah, you’re in pieces and yet I’m free, you can’t take that from me… Jess was dead, Mia was about to die and there was nothing he could do about it. His feet felt rooted to the spot, he knew if he moved, he’d watch her die and he couldn’t…

  “Please,” he whispered. “Don’t.” It felt lame, insignificant, too pathetic to be noticed. The shadow huff-huff-huffed with laughter, took the knife away from Mia’s throat, the blade slick with scarlet. You and me, we’re both free, you played, you lost, you’re crying over me…

  Death is a gift all little girls must suffer. They’re not so innocent, good or bad, they must pay the price to get the gift.

  Deep breath and Scott took a step forward reluctantly, his foot meeting the ground with a thunderclap. But the world keeps on turning yeah, the world keeps on turning… He couldn’t help himself, nor could he do anything but watch as the knife flashed downwards across Mia’s throat and the spray of crimson blood hit him in the face, in his mouth, the scream choking down inside him…

  He awoke with a start, covered in sweat and shaking violently. Just a dream. It hadn’t happened. Except it had felt so real, like he was there. He touched his face, clean of blood. He wiped it against the covers, still felt dirty. Wow, that was intense. He dreamed frequently, he didn’t deny that. But there’d been something about this he couldn’t explain. It had felt real, he repeated to himself. Except it wasn’t. As far as he knew, Jess wasn’t dead. Mia wasn’t dead, there wasn’t really a huge green shadow who had it in for Mia. Maybe it had killed Jess as well. And why he’d been thinking of that song, The World Keeps Turning by Kadie Stafford, he didn’t know. He hated that song completely.

  He was tired. How long he’d been in here, he wasn’t quite sure. He didn’t think it was a good idea to stay with his own company for much longer, maybe he should go find Pete, have a chat. It’d probably be best. He was getting tired of this room, too many bad memories now. Scott staggered to his feet and stretched out. Maybe he’d see if he could change to a different one, explain away politely the circumstances and hope for the best. He didn’t want them thinking he was crazy, probably best not to mention the dream to anyone given he was aware how stupid it sounded. But at the same time, he couldn’t forget how vivid it had been. He opened the door into the corridor, stale heat hit him. Someone had a window open somewhere and the sun was beating in, uncaring of his problems.

  Despite his problems, Scott couldn’t help but grin. The world kept turning indeed.

  “It was nice we did this, Anne,” Lysa Montgomery said, putting down her cup. “It’s been too long. I’ve been out of the loop for a while.”

  “I’m so glad you’re ready to return to active service,” Anne replied. She enjoyed spending time with Lysa, not least because it took a lot to rattle her. She often radiated a cool sense of amusement at the world she found almost soothing to experience. “It’s not been the same without you. It’s a testosterone fest, lot of egos to work with. Especially out here. Pree’s often busy doing pundit work, I hear she’s raking the credits in hand over fist for her work with the coverage.”

  “Okay for some,” Lysa smiled, showing her teeth. “I spoke to her and Director Arnholt following my bout the other day. They’re both eager for me to resume regular duties as soon as possible.”

  “Congrats on getting through by the way,” Anne added, taking a sip of her kelf, Lysa able to smell the strong Vazaran coffee across the table. “I knew you’d probably do it. But being in the same group as Wade…”

  “Hey, Unisco’s the real winner there. Me versus him. I’ll take him any day. I want to win the group. You get an easier draw if you win it, right?”

  “Supposedly. Winner from one group faces the runner up from another. Doesn’t always work in practice, there are going to be some stronger runners up than group winners. Take… Tell you what, take Sharon Arventino’s group. There’re four strong callers there. It’s a pretty open group with one match left for each caller. Anyone could go through.”

  “Did you think she threw it?” Lysa asked. “I mean that’s the rumour going around.”

  Anne shook her head. “I honestly don’t.”

  “You been close enough for that? Using your ‘gifts’?” she made a quote sign around the last word, Anne didn’t appreciate that, but at least she didn’t radiate disbelief like many did. It was quite refreshing if she was honest. Again, she shook her head at the question. “Or is it just your professional opinion?”

  “I can tell when someone’s faking it,” Anne said. “She wasn’t holding back. It’s a shame it’s brought her rep into question. I really admire her.”

  “I know. If I go out, I hope she wins it,” Lysa said. “She’s strong enough. Although there is one slight thing that annoys her about me.”

  Anne studied her thoughtfully. “Let me guess. If I guess right, then you buy the next drinks? Deal? Keep in mind I’ll know if you’re lying.”

  “Can you really do that? Tell someone’s lying?”

  Anne nodded. “It’s not simple. I don’t just get like a sense of someone lying in big bright letters. I can sense when they’re not telling the truth, when they’re being evasive and something’s wrong. Like you’re being evasive now. Do we have a deal?”

  Lysa nodded, keeping her hands on the table in front of her. “Okay, tell me what annoys me about Sharon Arventino.”

  Anne studied her, running her eyes up and down the other woman, opening her senses up to her to detect any sort of change in emotion. Nothing. A faint stab of annoyance when she mentioned Sharon’s name but that aside…

  It wasn’t necessary. In fact, she felt a little dirty for doing it, invading her friend’s privacy. She’d known Lysa for a long time, they’d started roughly the same time with Unisco and they’d stayed friends ever since that first day of training. It hadn’t always been smooth, there’d been times when they hadn’t seen each other for months. But always they’d stayed in touch and tried to be there for each other. And yet, how was this different from how she’d read Nick Roper the other day? Or Director Arnholt when she’d pressed him afterwards?

  Ah!

  “It wouldn’t be anything to do with her marrying your former partner, would it now?” Anne asked playfully. “I mean, you and Roper used to work together. You were close. Then you were injured, he was assigned to partner up with Wade and what about you now? Have you even seen him since you’ve been on the island?”

  Lysa nodded. Her face didn’t change but Anne sensed the sudden wall erected around her emotions. It wasn’t unbroachable, but it passed the message she didn’t want to talk about it. “Yeah for about five minutes shortly after I arrived. Not really seen him much since. Heard he got investigated for killing someone.”

  “Yeah a doctor type. Tossed him into a portal if you want to believe that after him and Dave Wilsin shot up a bunch of medically identical clones.”

  “By medically identical, I take it you mean they all had that dead look about them. I’m amazed it took him so long to start shooting. He has the restraint of a gnat normally.”

  Anne could sense the sarcasm coming off her. “Good partner though. Best I ever had. He kept me alive more times than I can remember. He was the one who shot Bertram
Avis.” Anne raised an eyebrow. “He was the guy who stabbed me. Spirit trafficking bastard. Roper shot him three times in the heart and patched me up. He kept me alive, I owe him.”

  “Did you ever love him?” No sooner had Anne asked the question than she felt the surprised radiating away from Lysa. She shook her head in response.

  “No. Well I don’t think so. I cared about him. And he is good looking…”

  “Really good looking!” Anne echoed. “He has a lot of good qualities.”

  “And he’ll probably be dead before he’s forty the way he’s going,” Lysa said. “This business of ours is a dangerous one. I got a warning. Am I stupid for ignoring that warning and coming back?”

  Anne shook her head. “In a way, I think it empowers you. You nearly died once already for the mission. You’re coming back for more. I think that’s about the most noble thing I’ve ever seen. Or the craziest,” she added with a grin. “One of the two anyway.”

  “Thanks Annie. You’re too kind,” she said, returning the grin.

  “Hey either way, I admire your courage. It takes a lot to do it. Plenty would have walked. Nobody would have blamed you. You probably could have wrangled it without a majeur de ceperacion.” She struggled to form the words around her tongue and Lysa rolled her eyes in disgust.

  “Yeah because I really wanted to do that. They still do that these days?”

  “Nothing changed that much since you went on leave,” Anne said. “Of course, they do.” Given the time and effort and more importantly the finance that went into training some of their operatives, Unisco were reluctant to let them go, even when the financial side had been recouped. There were examples of agents buying themselves out of contract to go lead lives where they weren’t frequently shot at. Those had become commonplace recently. Credits were cheaper than blood after all.

  Rarer were the examples required to submit to a majeur de ceperacion, an ultimate trial of the Divines as had initially been conceived. If Unisco really didn’t wish them to leave service, an agreement of separation was put into place on the proviso of one last mission. An exceptionally dangerous mission. Those unskilled in the art of tact called it a suicide mission. That was closer to the truth. Few lived through them, but those who did were given a clean break. It was the will of the Divines they survive, and the will would be judged by trial. Rumour had it Arnholt had tried to phase it out with fewer and fewer of them over the last several years. The last, to Anne’s knowledge, had taken place a handful of years earlier. Unusually, the agent had survived.

  Lysa shuddered. “I survive being killed in the line of duty to be killed by Unisco sending me on a mission of which I have little hope at succeeding. I’m sure that should be illegal.”

  “Well as Nick found out the other day, for an organisation bent on upholding the rules, they’re surprisingly lax at following them themselves when it comes to their agents,” Anne said sarcastically. “Far be it from me to criticise our fearless leader. Don’t get me wrong it’s nice to have someone who’ll stand up for us but seriously, how long do you think he’ll get away with it?”

  “He has done so far.”

  “And one day he’ll push it past the point of no return, the Senate will see him replaced and we’ll all be in trouble when that day comes,” Anne said, glancing around the bar. Something was itching away at her senses, clamouring to be acknowledged and yet she couldn’t work out the source yet, despite her scan of her surroundings. “Nothing lasts forever. Terrence won’t run Unisco forever…”

  “Yeah he’ll retire one day. You manage to live that long working for Unisco without being killed in action, you deserve a nice easy retirement,” Lysa said. “But even if he does, it’ll probably be Brendan who takes over, right? I mean that’s who’ll probably go for it.”

  Anne shrugged, didn’t say anything about the obvious disagreements the two of them had over the Roper thing, still searching until she caught a glimpse of a fair-haired man, younger than her but not by much, sat alone drinking kelf. She studied him, suddenly curious. With her increased attention, the emotions came slowly into focus. A layer of disinterest atop… Woah!

  She’d felt that before. Somewhere. Boiling, seething anger at a world that kept on kicking back at him. It was strong, not quite hate but resentment. Silent anger bubbled below the surface, pain a close bedfellow. Now she was aware of it, she wished she weren’t. It clamoured for attention ceaselessly, she twitched her head, trying to block it out with little success.

  “Anne?”

  Jerking back to reality, she let out a start of surprise. “Huh?”

  “You okay?” Lysa looked worried, Anne could feel she wasn’t faking it either. “You suddenly went silent and…”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Yeah, Brendan would probably be the long-term replacement, I’m surprised they didn’t give it him last time. But I’m not…” Another stab of anger and she winced. “… I’m not sure Arnholt would want him. The two of them are very different people. Way I heard it, Brendan was furious at the way Arnholt gave Nick a slap on the wrist. I think he wanted something tougher.”

  She shrugged, trying to ignore the emotions radiating from the young man. What he was angry about, she couldn’t say. “I mean let’s face it, he’s not exactly wrong, is he?”

  “Well technically no. I mean what he did was wrong,” Lysa said. “But he also had a point about it being the right thing to do. Sometimes you have to make drastic decisions in the field.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Anne replied, glancing to the man again. “It just leaves a sour taste in the mouth. I hope this isn’t the start of a slippery slope that might bring us all down. Lysa, do you know who that is? It’s bugging me something rotten.” She jerked her head towards the angry man and Lysa turned in curiosity. She studied him for a moment, he caught her eyes and glared at her. Anne felt the surge of annoyance and then surprise from Lysa.

  “Seen him around. Think he’s in the tournament but not sure of his name,” she said. “Not off the top of my head, one way to find out though.” Lysa rose to her feet. “Let’s go ask.”

  The two of them descended on the table, Lysa sliding into the seat across from the man and Anne stood with a hand on the back of the same seat. Dark eyes glittered with irritation at their sudden arrival, she caught the emotion loud and clear from him and it startled her. Up close, it was worse. It was like leaning too close to a fire, the heat threatening to burn.

  “Can I help you?” It was a polite enough question, yet she caught the restraint behind it.

  “I’m sorry, where do we know you from,” Lysa said, unaware of the anger and raising a finger to scratch her cheek. In a way, Anne envied her innocence. “It’s annoying my friend.”

  His face didn’t change. “I’m sorry, what does that have to do with you?” Something cracked in his visage, he was handsome enough but that sneer in his eyes was off-putting, like seeing a serene pool distorted by a raging storm.

  “There’s no need to be so angry,” Anne said, before she could help herself. It sounded weak, she’d freely admit that. She couldn’t think what else to say. It raised more questions than answers, she suddenly became aware of that. “It’s not going to solve anything.” He studied her in cold calculation, those eyes look on a laser-like quality burning into hers with a quiet intensity. She fought the urge to look away. “You want to talk about it?”

  “That’s even less of your concern,” he said, rising to his feet. “If you’re going to badger me, I’m going to bid you both a good day.”

  “Don’t you know who we are?” Lysa asked, rising as well. “She clearly wants to…”

  “I know who she is,” the man said. “I don’t know who you are. Don’t care either. Don’t follow me.” He turned, strode out of the bar without acknowledging them. He didn’t see the shocked look on Lysa’s face though Anne felt her surprise and fought the urge to laugh.

  “That went well,” she said. “I’m curious, what was that supposed to accomplish?” She ca
ught the wink Lysa tipped at her and yanked the ring from her finger and tossed it over to her. Anne caught it, surprised by how heavy it was. A band of gold and a large black stone, she got the impression it wouldn’t quite suit her as a fashion accessory.

  “Said I’d test a few of Noorland’s gadgets for him. Mini picture box in the stone. Run him through the Unisco database and you’ll find out who he is. You know if you really want to.” She winked again. “I always thought stalking a guy you’ve got a crush on to be an attractive quality anyway.”

  Anne blushed. “It’s not even like that. I… I don’t know how to explain it. That guy is in so much pain and I just want to help. I can feel it and it hurts. It hurts me! I want to do something.”

  “It doesn’t hurt that he’s cute either, right? In a strange sort of way?”

  “Oh, absolutely not.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four. Those Who Want More.

  “You don’t fucking stop until I tell you to stop! You get me? You’re my bitch, you better learn what that means! It means I own your ass!”

  Harvey Rocastle to Maxwell Brudel.

  The thirtieth day of Summerdawn.

  Max Brudel was getting tired of this. He’d been in this room for who knew how long now with this mincing psychopath and he was starting to wonder the best way out of the deal. At the time it had felt a good bargain, he’d gotten out of jail in exchange for some small task. Good deal for him, good deal for Mr R.

  Except the freak hadn’t been satisfied, had he? Not one little bit. He’d set to keep him working no matter what he found. As far as he was concerned, he knew the life story of Mia Arnholt, save why Mr R had it in for her so bad. There just wasn’t anything else to find out. But Mr R wanted more, and he wasn’t letting up, even talking about how he’d have Max run examinations on more women until their arrangement was satisfied.