The Great Game Trilogy

by O. J. Lowe

  Three of them above her. She could sense them, sense but not touch. Not affect. She ground her teeth in her bloody mouth. Come on!

  Three separate stun blasts hit her at close range, cut through any resistance she might have, defiance the last thought to come to her.

  The tenth day of Summerpeak.

  His face hurt, his eyes were sticky with disuse and he didn’t know where he was. For several long moments, Wade Wallerington blinked repeatedly. He was laid in a bed, he knew that much, surrounded by white. He almost sat up with a start, felt the cables attached to him, as he shifted in his bed and grimaced. Almost unconsciously he moved to scratch the discomfort at his face, fingertips brushing against cloth. The room stank of disinfectant, horribly sterile. Hospital then. He hadn’t died. That was a relief. Though at what cost. Every blink was like a pinprick to his eyeball, he whined as the tears threatened to poke their way through the membranes, salt stinging the sore muscle.

  He hadn’t come this far in life through overreacting when things were out of his control. Beyond the white, he could see shadows, hear muted voices until a bright light snapped into his vision, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut, blocking it out.

  Chapter Eleven. This Flesh Is Fragile.

  “When you have examined every option, when you’ve run down every possibility, when you think you should have the answer, but you don’t, you’re missing something obvious. Don’t be afraid to think outside the box. Sometimes lateral thinking is needed to solve a puzzle with no immediate answer. Don’t be afraid to ignore the improbable. Remember, your enemies are trying to get away with it and will stop at nothing.”

  Prideaux Khan lecturing Unisco trainees on investigation techniques.

  The eighth day of Summerpeak.

  Neither of them waited after the silence that had greeted their knock. Leclerc and Fagan had looked at one another, then drawn their weapons. Neither of them wanted to take chances. Casual inquiries at the desk had told them Maddley hadn’t left his room. He had to be in there.

  Twice they’d knocked. Three times. Again, they glanced at each other and then Fagan stepped back, leaving Leclerc a run at the door. He sized it up, brought his foot viciously into the door, it gave a little but not relenting on its hinges. Once more he kicked, this time it flew open and they entered the room, mufflers active and weapons up. Main room empty. Closet empty.

  The bathroom wasn’t.

  “Fuck!” Fagan yelled, backing out of the room, face contorted with disgust. “We’re too late.”

  His heart heavy, Leclerc stepped past him and glanced into the bathroom, saw the body on the floor and groaned. “Damn.” He said, more curse words in native Serranian and shook his head.

  “That’s Maddley all right,” Fagan said, already past him and standing over the body. He leaned down, placed a hand on the body. “Huh, not been dead long. Still could pass for human.” He continued to look down at the body, Leclerc turned tail and took in the main room. The door had been locked, the key card was still in its slot powering the room. The viewing screen across from the bed had been cracked, rendered inoperable. He could feel cold air blowing in from the machine on the wall, could see the window open.

  On a hunch, he checked the open window, looked out onto the promenade beneath, he could see dozens of people milling about, all oblivious to what was going on above them. Well, maybe not all oblivious. Someone knew somewhere.

  “Nicer than our digs huh?” Fagan called. “No sign of any visible entry or exit-wounds. I’m not sure what killed him here.”

  Leclerc didn’t hear, still studying the scene below out the window. If someone had killed him, it wasn’t impossible they could have exited through the window. Maddley had kept a room only three floors up of the Oceanside, high enough to make a nasty splat if you hit the ground. And if the assassin had left via a spirit or something, there was always a chance someone saw something. Especially if it involved a bird large enough to be able to carry a person. Even shimmying the side of the building would have left some witnesses, even this time of night.

  So how had they done it?

  He could still sense the ghost.

  It was the second surprise he’d found involving that thing and even then, not the biggest shock of the day. As Scott wandered back to his room, he felt something, a presence in the distance, not an exact position but a vague sense of location. It felt stronger, like a pressure in his head if he faced the right direction and started walking, weakening if he turned away.

  So how was he going to use that? He’d been impressed with the potential raw power of that ghost. It had nearly done for him, run rings around both him and Palawi. But that was the problem. It had run rings around him and Palawi. There wasn’t a guarantee come the next time he’d be able to prevent it from doing the same thing again. Admittedly he hadn’t been prepared. But was there much more he’d be able to do under the same circumstances?

  Maybe he should look for some special ghost containing equipment. It obviously had its merits. And there wasn’t any shame in doing something the easy way if it worked. It all boiled down to a point of view. Doing something the hard way didn’t score you any extra points, didn’t make you better or worse. Being a martyr wasn’t for everyone, it was a hard path and not one he really wanted to walk. Sometimes he craved simplicity.

  He’d strode into the lobby of his hotel, aware of how much worse for the wear he looked, and he saw her, exactly the last person he wanted to see looking like this. It had been too long, and he suddenly found himself despising fate for throwing them back together at the worst possible time.

  Last time he’d seen her; she’d been beaten up by that freak-of-nature Harvey Rocastle, her nose smashed, covered in her own blood. He could remember feeling helpless as he’d watched it happen. They’d managed to fix her nose, only a slight crook remaining where she’d taken the blow. Strangely, it didn’t make her less attractive, he couldn’t help managing a smile as their eyes met. He could see her taking in his dishevelled appearance, the blood and stains covering him, and his smile grew a little more apologetic. She approached, he smelled her as she sashayed up to him, a little odour of the heavens. Judging by the wrinkle of her nose, she could smell him as well.

  “Whew… You been rolling in garbage?”

  “Had a…” Best way to describe what had happened? “A minor incident on the way over. Nothing too serious. Bit ill is all. Might have had a reaction to medical webbing.” Not true but it’d do for the time being, given he didn’t have any other explanation that made sense. “Never mind me, how are you?” He looked pointedly at her as he saw the hesitation, a look of worry on her face at the question. “Been avoiding me?”

  That got a reaction. “No! Never.” She looked hurt by his comment and immediately he felt bad. Really bad. Like it was the worst thing he’d ever said. “I’ve not been avoiding you.”

  “I was joking!” It burst out of him and he was aware how lame it sounded. Mia looked a little startled by it, an eyebrow rising.

  “I got that,” she said. “But I’m hurt that you think I’d be avoiding you. Why would you even think that?”

  “Because I’ve not seen you for a few days,” he said. “You remember what happened last time we were together in the same building?”

  “Yeah!” He couldn’t miss the sarcasm. “Probably better than you. Scott…” He could hear it fade from her voice and he exhaled sharply. “Can we talk? In private? Not down here.”

  It took him half a second to answer and he gave her a grin. “Sure. Step into my room.”

  Okay, with hindsight maybe it wasn’t the best idea he’d ever have. His room had been left a bit of a sty recently, ever since Jess had stopped coming, he’d kinda stopped giving a shit. Housekeeping hadn’t been in for days, he’d purposely locked them out, and mentally he blanched at the underwear he’d left on the floor. The words Jess would have uttered if she’d seen it came to mind, the second uncomfortable twitch more noticeable than the first.

>   Can’t take you anywhere nice, can I? It was like hearing her voice and he grinned at the memory. Wasn’t like he had to put up with that any more, thankfully.

  Still it wasn’t the ideal thing he’d liked Mia to have seen on her first visit to his room. He wondered if he could kick them under the bed before she noticed them. Unlikely, knowing his luck, he’d forget they were there. Be a bit embarrassing when he suddenly remembered it a few thousand miles away, it’d probably mean he wouldn’t be returning to the hotel. But then again, if it hadn’t been heavily subsidised by the ICCC, he wouldn’t be here anyway. Coming back soon wasn’t an option. No point missing what he’d never have again.

  He shot a grin at Mia, a little unnerved by the circumstances. “Yeah, sorry about the state. Didn’t know I’d be entertaining.”

  Fair play to her, she made a point of avoiding looking around, despite the twitch in her eyes as if she wanted to peruse. “I’ve seen worse. Should see the dressing rooms some of the guys have on the spirit dancing circuit. They can be right divas about stuff. Things get thrown about. Sometimes they break stuff.” Scott, remembering his most recent encounter with a spirit dancer, only smiled politely.

  “Yeah I can imagine.”

  “Pair of pants on the floor?” She asked, before scoffing politely. “You’re an amateur in the trashing places terms, flyboy. Sorry to tell you that.”

  “I’ve never been so happy to hear that,” he grinned. He was surprised to find he genuinely meant the words as well. “Hey, we’re all human right. All do stuff sometimes.”

  She grinned at him. “Oh yeah.” Mia sniffed at the air, her nose wrinkling as she did, as if she could smell something on the air. What it might have been, he couldn’t say. “You have many other people up here?”

  He shrugged. “Not recently. Just me. And I’ve not been spending much time here. Just sleeping.” Don’t mention old sweat, don’t mention old sweat, he urged himself quietly. “You know how it gets, I imagine. Sometimes it’s hard to settle somewhere so you just make yourself comfortable how you can. If tossing some clothes around makes it feel more like home, I say do it.”

  “Home,” she said with a chuckle. “You never lived at my house growing up. My mom’d have gone nuts if we’d left clothes on the floor.”

  “Heh.” He wanted to add that his would have as well, but the truth was he honestly didn’t know if she would or not. Maybe if she’d been there for him more often, he’d have had the chance to find out. “Nice for some freedom, eh?”

  “Definitely,” she said. Now she was looking around easily, running her eyes into every corner of the room and at the turn of the head, he could see the crook in her nose more prominently.

  “Hey, can I ask you something,” he said. “You know when you’ve tried claiming a spirit?”

  “Yeah.” She looked a little taken aback, like she’d expected something else but nodded regardless.

  “And you know when it gets away?”

  “No but go on.” Big cocky grin as she said it.

  “Oh, it doesn’t matter then,” Scott said, watching her sit down on his bed, she tested the springs with a motion that made her breasts bounce pleasantly. He could see she still had the look about her, figured he should get it back on track. “Yeah, sorry. I guess you didn’t come up here to talk about the trade though, huh?”

  “Nope,” she said. He shot a glance towards the bathroom, then back to her. He could hear the shower calling following the endeavours of the day. Maybe burn the clothes as well. They’d seen better days, it’d be cheaper to buy new than get them repaired. Shame. He’d liked these jeans. Now they were shredded and stained with blood and alley filth.

  “Mind if I hop in and get cleaned up first?” he asked quickly. “I mean, sorry, but…”

  “Sure,” she said, grinning. “Go right ahead.”

  Scott, not hearing her and expecting an argument carried on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I mean I got injured earlier, I’d…”

  “Scott, it’s fine.”

  “… Don’t want infection, I mean what?” He gave her a surprised look. “Okay. Sorry. Didn’t expect that. Was expecting an argument.”

  “Does you wanting a shower usually devolve into an argument?” she asked. “Limited hot water?”

  Well, he’d sometimes wound up in it with Jess. “Mia, m’dear,” he said, tipping her a wink. “You don’t know the half of it. I’ll be a moment and then we’ll talk. Sorry.”

  “No need to keep apologising,” she smiled. “As cute as it might be.”

  He came out, clutching the towel around himself, saw her turn her head and take a long look at him, her eyes drinking in every detail. He fought the urge to slip back into the bathroom, instead he met her eyes and gave her a grin.

  “Like what you see? Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

  He hadn’t expected her to oblige, but she drew out her summoner, one of those models with a picture box on and before he could react, she’d snapped several images.

  “Cheers,” she said. “Always glad to get permission. Nice abs. You work out?”

  “Nah,” he said. “Not especially. Just do a lot of walking about the place. Sometimes we got to run from stuff. And climb up stuff. You?” He corrected himself. “I mean are you one of those spirit dancers who goes everywhere by private hovercar?”

  She raised a thin eyebrow in bemusement, her mouth crinkling up with mirth. “I don’t know anyone who does that. Not off the top of the head. Hey, I think you’re getting caught up on the result. We still claim spirits just like everyone else. You should know that.”

  Yeah, I should. Scott grinned at her. “So, what did you want to talk about then? Come on, let’s do it. You and me… Talk! Talk, I mean.” He felt heat stroking his face in cruel amusement at his slip. She didn’t have to sit there looking so alluring. Worse part was she didn’t look like she realised he was doing it. He looked around for a fresh pair of… Well anything. He felt a little exposed right now. She didn’t seem bothered though. He straightened up, relaxed a little. He got the impression she truly didn’t care.

  “Yeah. I haven’t seen you for a while and…”

  “Well I assumed you were in hospital for the last few days. I came to visit.” It was true as well. He had. That was when he’d found out she’d checked out. “More than once. First time you were in surgery.

  She opened her mouth to interrupt, he didn’t let her. “I mean; they did a cracking job I’ve got to say. Can barely tell you had the shit kicked out of you. I mean, he was like what? Three times the size of you and you come out of it well.” He was rambling now, he knew it and he couldn’t bring himself to stop. His mouth had gone onto autopilot, his brain keeping pace but barely. “Had the feeling he was a bad ‘un. Could have told you that. You know you should be careful about who you trust…”

  “Scott!”

  “I mean look at you now. Sat there alone in a hotel room with a mostly naked man you barely know. No wonder you get into trouble like that. What’s next? Skinny dipping in the lake when there’s a maniac on the loose? Because I’d be up for that. Hey, I’m already dressed for it…”

  “Damnit will you listen to me!” She exclaimed, the surprise enough to silence him. He almost dropped the towel in shock but held on. It probably wouldn’t make the situation any better, letting her see what lay underneath. “I know. I got out and well, I was shaken up. Can you hold that against me? Have you any idea what that feels like? I didn’t want to be in that position. I didn’t want to be someone you and your idiot sidekick felt you needed to rescue! I’m glad you did it but… Just drop it okay. I’m not a fucking damsel, okay?”

  The anger she’d given off at first had slowly dissipated with every word and now she was calm, resigned but calm. “I didn’t want to be like that. You know who my dad is. He insisted Matt and me both took self-defence classes. Me especially.” She scoffed bitterly at the words. “Because I’m his special little girl or whatever. But only when he wants me to be. Only
when he’s not doing other stuff like working miles away or coming home with laser burns or… You know I fought. I fought Harvey and I’ll not let you get away with… Whatever it is you think.”

  Her eyes were glistening in the corners and Scott felt a tinge of pity for her, easily overwhelming the amusement he’d felt at hearing Pete described as his idiot sidekick. He’d have appreciated that if he was here to hear it. “I didn’t abandon you. I had a nice time on our first date. I really did. Apart from… Him. You were perfect. Which is why I felt so crappy about staying out of touch.”

  “Why did you then?” he asked softly. He dropped onto the bed next to her, careful to keep his modesty intact. He could smell her perfume, an exotic mix making his own eyes water.

  She pointed to her nose. “This. Scott. They couldn’t fix it. Not all the way. I… I couldn’t face you with it.” She trembled as she said it, the realisation behind her words dawning on him as she spoke. “I mean look at me. I’m hideous. You know how many times I almost walked out of the lobby while waiting for you to come back? Loads. I saw it so many times you’d turn your back on me and I couldn’t face it. I didn’t want your scorn.”

  He couldn’t help himself, under the circumstances. It was probably the wrong thing to do but Scott Taylor burst out laughing and even with the look on her face, he couldn’t stop.

  “Mia… Have you been taking drugs?”

  “Yeah, they gave me some strong painkillers, why?” she started to ask before catching his meaning. “I mean, no, but…”

  He placed a hand on her shoulder, looked her in the eyes. “Mia Arnholt. You have just said without a doubt the absolute dumbest thing I’ve heard in my entire life. Truly. You can barely see that thing. And it kinda… trust me on this, it kinda suits you. Who was it who said that beauty flourishes more in the face of its flaws?” He might have just made it up on the spot, but it sounded good.

  “It’s not bad. It gives you character. It says you’ve taken knocks and you don’t care, you’ve got back up and carried on. I don’t think any less of you because you had your face smashed in by a messed-up whacked-out crazy freak of nature. And if you think it messes up your face, you’re wrong. And besides, you’ve got more than just being fit as…” he nearly said fuck, choked it back. “Something different from what I was just about to say. You’ve got a vibrant personality. You’re single minded, you’re not afraid to go after what you want. I mean look at the way you were chasing me.”