The Great Game Trilogy

by O. J. Lowe

  Yes!

  Already the wounds were starting to heal before her eyes, skin was starting to reform above the medical webbing, paler than before but still fresh, virginal skin. She couldn’t help but smile at the result. The whole process took maybe thirty seconds and the hand looked as it had before Hota’s surgery. Other than the blood, nobody would have guessed.

  “We need to work quickly,” Hota continued. “Dawdle and the wound will heal before we can finithh applying the medical webth. Ath time goeth by, it will be harder. The more therum in her, it’ll be harder to cut through her thkin. Her muthcleth will strengthen, they’ll be harder to theperate. We rithk damaging her unnecessarily. What we do won’t latht long. But it ith a thtart, no?”

  “Doctor,” she said. “You have done well. Make it so. Although there is still the matter of control to consider.” He nodded in agreement. After all, what use was a weapon when one couldn’t effectively direct it at your enemies?

  On the way back up, she fought the urge to rest her head against the wall of the elevator and close her eyes. Her sleep had improved only marginally. Her dreams hadn’t relented. Vivid as ever. She didn’t want to think about them now. Instead, her thoughts drifted to Rocastle and the mess he’d inadvertently brought upon himself. Had he not been caught in the act, had he not been locked up, she’d have been a lot more secure in things. But no, who knew what Unisco had managed to deduce from his jaunt. He’d sworn he’d not said anything, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to believe him. She couldn’t ask her contact. They might share an arrangement, but she couldn’t be sure quite how he’d react given the operation to recover Rocastle had led to the death of four Unisco pilots and the capture of two. Better to keep it quiet. If there was anything that affected her drastically, she was sure he’d tell her.

  But she’d risked a lot to get him back. The Vazaran Suns were crying foul over the loss of several attack ships, compensating them was going to be the least of her problems. She’d risked exposing the Viceroy to those who might spot it. She’d risked Domis. He’d been shot several times in the attack, not that you’d know from looking at him. The man had a knack for healing. He’d survived everything that had been thrown at him. Often questions as to what exactly he was appeared in her mind, but she hadn’t been of the mood to seriously consider them. He was what he was, hers. That was all that mattered in the scope of things.

  Without him, she would not have Rocastle back. Left to the Suns, it would have been a disaster. And Rocastle was going to pay her back for the favour, he just didn’t quite know it yet. She couldn’t let him rot in a jail cell. He might talk, he knew too much. However, much of a loathsome character he might be, he still had his uses. But he’d been warned, one more mess like the one he’d gotten himself into on the island and he’d be out. He might be a big guy. He might hate women. But she would send Domis to eliminate him if he took his toes off the line. However big he might be, however tough he thought he was, Domis would break him into a thousand little pieces, bone by bone if need be.

  It was Rocastle who’d provided Subject A, the ideal sample for the project. Everyone had tried to find subjects. Rocastle had succeeded and in such an audacious manner she’d had to approve. Everyone was looking for her, but they wouldn’t find her. He’d covered his tracks too well. Rocastle had made himself useful. He’d risen in her organisation and privately she was proud he answered only to her. More than that, she secretly loved discomfort when she yanked his leash. Why he hated women, she didn’t know. She didn’t want to know. But knowing that she could control him against his basest desires was a feeling wealth couldn’t bring her.

  Either way, until further notice, she was keeping a close eye on him. He wasn’t to be trusted running loose on his own at this moment in time. Plus, when his disappearance was inevitably discovered, there’d be an all-out search for him. People would want a man they considered to be a dangerous lunatic found. It was important that he wasn’t. She hadn’t moved to get him out of jail only for him to be thrown straight back in there.

  Back upstairs she removed her jacket, wrinkling her nose as she caught the smell of it. It was there, almost imperceptible but infinitely irritating. She knew it was there and thus couldn’t abide it, the smell of the labs. She’d like to have changed completely but it wasn’t an option. She had another meeting imminently.

  Beep-bip-beep-bip!

  That came as a surprise, the holocom brought her up short as she sprayed perfume over herself, enough to drown the scent of the sterile labs. She glanced at the ID on the image. It was inconvenient, but she needed to take it.

  Damn you, Coshi. On the other hand, at least it wasn’t Rogan. That man really was turning insufferable since she’d made contact. “Domis,” she called through the door. “Inform those who’ve already arrived that I will be with them in a moment. Offer them my sincerest apologies.”

  “At once Mistress.”

  She sighed. This better be important. “Answer call.”

  The holocom burst into life, bringing up a miniature 3D image of Johan Coshi on the table, his features transparent. He bowed, clutched his hat against his chest. “Ma’am,” he said softly. “Greetings.”

  “I can’t make small talk for long, Mister Coshi,” she said abruptly. “You’ve caught me at a bad time. I assume you have something important for me?”

  “You’d be right,” he replied. “I’ll be quick then. It’s about the Eagle’s Nest.” Given his position as the director of that project, one in its own way just as important as what she’d just seen in the labs, she was unsurprised to say the least.

  “You have updates?”

  He nodded. “I know we agreed on a set date for completion…”

  “Mister Coshi, you better not be about to tell me that there will be further delays. I do not wish to hear that.

  “No, nothing of the sort,” he said looking aghast. “Ma’am, I wanted to report we are ahead of schedule. Next week at the earliest for launch. I wanted to give you the news in person but unfortunately…”

  She cut him off. “That’s wonderful, Mister Coshi.” She felt the smile grow across her face. “You’ve made me very happy. But why the sudden upturn in fortune?”

  “Can’t explain it ma’am. Just luck, I guess. Everything went right; we didn’t have the setbacks we thought we might. And there was a good crew working on it.” Damn right there was a good crew working on it for what they’d cost to hire. Still, credits well spent. “Still needs to be field tested of course, but everything is ready to go.”

  “You’ll find a bonus in your next wage,” she said. “As will everyone on your staff.” She made a mental note to divert a million credits as means of reward. Finding the best people was sometimes so hard. You wanted to ensure they stayed yours when you did. “And inform them that there’s more of the same for every further Nest that they produce.”

  Coshi’s eyes widened. “You want more of them?”

  “Of course. What’s a queen without her castles?” she said. A sudden thought struck her, and she smiled. “One more thing, Mister Coshi. I’m sending Rocastle to join you. To observe and report on the field tests. Perhaps even be on board when it takes to the air for the first time. Do you think you can accommodate him for me?”

  “For you, ma’am,” he said. “Anything. I’ll await him.”

  “Thank you again, Mister Coshi,” she smiled. “You’ve done well. Farewell.”

  “Goodbye, ma’am.”

  As the image of him faded, she rubbed her hands together in glee. Things were starting to come together. She was glad she’d taken the call now. It made going into the imminent meeting ahead that little bit more enjoyable. If she could pull the next bit off, it’d be a very good day indeed.

  Outside the meeting room, she paused, considering the two men waiting for her. What she knew of them and how they might react to the situation they found themselves in. It was perhaps ironic that they weren’t that dissimilar if she thought about it, yet th
ey probably considered themselves complete opposites.

  Antony Montella was a man dominated entirely by credits and power, he got off on the thrills it gave him, how he could use it to further himself. He kept a low profile but cast a long shadow. Not unlike herself. He had a face like it was cut out of stone, rough and silent, ugly and dark haired. He was a short man, his dark hair slicked back against his scalp without a hint of grey even at his considerable age. His suit was exceptional, she approved. He looked so much more professional than Cyris. Whatever he needed to achieve his goal, he bought or arranged to be bought. If someone stood in his way, he took whatever actions needed to move them. He no doubt saw himself as an irresistible force of nature unable to be tamed. A man who was a risk. Going into partnership with him was not something she had taken lightly.

  She’d thought it through. He had the men, he had influence and it was always nice to have someone around her who could be labelled as a ring leader if need be. Despite that low profile, he was getting more and more known as the months went by. Law enforcement were slow, but they weren’t stupid. All efforts signalled her organisation remained largely unknown and that suited her. He was a calm man, a supposedly reasonable man.

  John Cyris also liked the money and the power. Yet he didn’t seem like the type completely dominated by it. He would be the more easily persuaded of the two. He had designs on hitting the top, he didn’t want to be a king or a president, but he did want to step down on a society while not being a part of it. Unlike Montella, he had an ego the size of a kingdom or two, a shaven headed man with a cheerfully pleasant face. He looked like your average friendly uncle, not that she’d ever had one. Not many friendly faces in her family. No wonder he’d charmed dozens of people around the years into giving him credits, working for him, joining his organisation as a believer in his own brand of tripe.

  Yes. This project would suit him. He looked the more interested of the two. He was smiling, chatting animatedly in one sided conversation to Montella. The muscle in the shorter man’s jaw looked locked tight in a grimace. Another minute or two, and she’d make an entrance. An entrance she’d considered for a while now. How to make her first impression? How to lull them into a false sense of security? How to ensure they took her seriously enough to listen and yet at the same time underestimate her so she’d have room to manoeuvre around them. Domis was already in the room, stood politely to attention in his own imposing way. At least they were prompt. A shame her own good news had delayed her from doing the same.

  Finally, she entered, clearing her throat as she walked in, giving them both the Coppinger smile. Sweet but with a hint of concealed menace. Just in case they felt like interrupting her. Montella was from Serran, Cyris from Premesoir, they might feel the urge to be mouthy about the wait. She wouldn’t have been impressed had she been in their shoes.

  “Gentlemen,” she said. “My apologies. I’m sure you’ve both had the same problem sometime. I trust my associate has kept you comfortable in my absence.” Domis chose that moment to crack his giant knuckles. A trifle unnecessary, she thought, but effective.

  Cyris spoke up first. “It’s of no matter to me.”

  “Nor I,” Montella agreed.

  Interesting, she mused. They didn’t look comfortable with each other. Even now they kept shooting furtive glances, almost sizing each other up. Neither of them looked like they wanted to back down and show weakness in front of the other. That served her. She’d chosen these two to meet at the same time for a reason. If neither of them wanted to show weakness, they wouldn’t be thinking quite as clearly, they wouldn’t want to back down “Ey, business is business, am I right? That’s the problem being on top. You might think you’re the boss but you’re still at the mercy of others. Someone screws you, sure, you can get rid of them, but it don’t change you’ve been screwed, ey?”

  “Interesting sentiments,” Cyris said. “Are you honestly telling us that is common practice in your line of business? Getting screwed?” He couldn’t hide the contempt in his voice.

  Montella shrugged. “Some things you can’t control. Sure, you can let some of it go, sometimes you need to make an example and whack a few heads. Sometimes it’s just out of your hands. You never had to do that?”

  Cyris didn’t reply. She replied for him. “Exactly what I was coming to! Sometimes it’s just out of your hands.”

  “Hey, some shit you just can’t control,” Montella said. “I mean, sometimes you’re playing by the will of the Divines, am I right?”

  “Potentially,” Cyris mused.

  “And it’s funny you should mention Divines, Mr Montella,” she said, sitting down across the table and crossing her legs. “Very funny indeed.”

  “Yeah? What’s the joke?” He didn’t look amused. “You’re not building a church, are you?”

  “Maybe, eventually. For the time being? Nothing like that. I’m engaging in a little enterprise and well, as much as it pains me to admit it, I can’t do it alone.” She let a little note of desperation creep into her voice. That wasn’t entirely true. She COULD do it alone, but it would severely financially cripple her. Of course, that was moot. If it came off, it wouldn’t be a problem, for the rewards would be infinite. If it failed, she’d likely not live to regret it.

  Both men were criminals. Very large criminals, not physically but in their notoriety. What drove them to crime? Wealth? Greed? Ambition? Desire? It would be interesting to see if they went for it. Of course, if they didn’t, Domis wouldn’t be letting them leave the room alive. They’d be too much of a security risk. After all, crime was such a risky business and sometimes you lost.

  In her own opinion, you’d have to be an idiot to turn down this arrangement. But of course, you could never accurately predict how people react when faced with the facts. However reasonable a case you might make, they would find some potential flaw and use it as an excuse to cite failure.

  “I fail to see how we can help you in whatever you have in mind,” Cyris said. “If the reports are to be believed, you have more wealth than both of us put together.”

  “You said it, Johnny,” Montella agreed. “No offence, but I’m not seeing it either. What’s the game?”

  “There are some things that wealth cannot buy you,” she said. “This has always been the case. Some things strike down both rich and poor alike. There is no changing that. We cannot change the fundamental rules of the world. No matter how much we might strive to leave our mark on the world, it is beyond us.”

  Neither of them commented on that. She hadn’t expected them to. “I aim to change that.”

  Now that got a reaction. A cool disbelieving smirk played over Cyris’ thin lips. Montella let out a bark of laughter.

  “Okay, okay, I was expecting that,” she said. “But please, gentlemen, hear me out. Don’t make the mistake of assuming I’m insane. I assure you I’m quite sound of mind. And I know exactly how to do it.”

  The expression on John Cyris’ face didn’t change. He made a pyramid out of his fingers in front of him and waited. Montella didn’t. “Okay, so you got some insane grand plan,” he said. “What you need us for then? I mean, you got the means, you got the designs… Where do we figure into all of this?”

  “I told you I cannot do it alone,” she said. “I need allies. I have people I trust here, an inner circle. Loyal in their belief in me. Below them, there are people paid to be loyal and no more. I need more than that. Your people are yours. They’re tied to you for a reason beyond pure credits. Mr Montella, your people are like your extended family. Blood binds you. Mr Cyris, your people share an idea with you. A simple belief. You gave them your philosophy and they bought into it.”

  Cyris nodded. “Freedom Triumphant is more than just a philosophy, Madam, it’s an actuality. Through casting off the laws of society, we truly find who we are. When we are knocked down, stripped of everything we think we know, we find that we are free. That freedom always comes at a price though. People don’t like change.”

&
nbsp; “Save trying to convert us, Johnny,” Montella said. “What of it?”

  She leaned forward in her seat. “Mr Cyris, I’m a great believer in what you preach. I’m not wanting to throw off the shackles of society. I want to bastardise the entire laws of nature. I propose a partnership. Pool our resources. Between us, what could stop us?”

  It was Montella who gave the answer she’d been expecting them to produce. “Unisco?”

  She scoffed at that. “I’ve already had several encounters with them over this. I had an agent… Him, actually,” She pointed at Domis. “Observed at a tournament by one of them when he was collecting something for me. I had a recovery team wiped out by two of them on Carcaradis Island. One of my lieutenants was recently arrested by them. I myself clashed with some of them, it was on the news, you might have seen it.”

  “Then you’re walking a tightrope there,” Cyris said. “They’ll catch up with you sooner or later. They’ve been harassing me for years. Ever since they first arrested me.”

  “Hey, wasn’t that the time you tried to escape in an aeroship and one of them came after you on a dragon?” Montella inquired. Cyris glowered at him. “Right in the grounds of your damn own home as well. Embarrassing!”

  “They will be a problem,” she said. “They have been a problem. But what sort of numbers do you imagine them to have? More than what we can put together? Law is an illusion. It only exists if the people allow it. Unisco agents die just the same as anyone else.”

  “If you can find them,” Montella said. “They keep their identities pretty secret. That’s the problem.”