The Great Game Trilogy

by O. J. Lowe

  She raised an eyebrow. She seemed more at ease now, relief pouring out of her. “I wasn’t chasing you.”

  “Yeah… You really were,” he said with a grin. “You might not have been doing it intentionally but believe me, you’ve been doing something. J… my ex really had a thing about you being around me.”

  “Ah dear Jesseka. The angry one. Least I was never that insecure,” she said with a smug grin. The angry one summed her up nicely. Pretty much in the same way as describing the sun as the hot one. “I’d have expected you to throw me out if I ever got that self-absorbed. She’s an idiot, you know.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Because I wouldn’t have let you go.” She sounded like she meant it as well. He could tell in her voice, not even a trace of deceit in it. “But I’m not going to lie. I have wanted you ever since I first met you. Longer. Ever since that time you fought my little bro. I saw you and I was like, wow.”

  That took him by surprise. “How come?”

  “Maybe I’ve just got a thing for half black dudes,” she replied flippantly, he couldn’t miss how she was avoiding the question. If she had a better reason, she wasn’t about to spill

  “Well we’ve got it out in the open,” he said. “Mostly. Anyway, with that in mind, what are we going to do about it?”

  Apparently, she already had something in mind as she leaned over to brush her lips against his before playfully pushing him down to the bed, his towel falling away from his waist. She glanced down and smiled. “Yeah, I can work with that.”

  “You better be able to,” he said as she wriggled down to kneel on the floor at the bottom of the bed, her hair tickling his stomach. “It’s the only one I got.”

  She grinned at him, winked and blew him a kiss. “So glad to hear it. I’d be running out screaming if you had two.”

  He made to reply, it was lost in his throat as she took him in her mouth, working away with sudden tender vigorousness, the surprise shutting him up. Jess had never been a fan of it. She’d said it made her feel unclean. Mia didn’t have any such hang-ups, she worked away, and the pleasure waves threatened to overcome his sensibilities, a dopey grin on his face and there she was, bobbing away, her lips teasing back and forth across his shaft, she knew what she was doing, and he was getting closer and closer…

  A bang on the door and he was snapped out of it, sitting bolt upright at the same moment her efforts came to fruition and her eyes widened as salty fluids filled her mouth and he let out an involuntary yell of delight.

  “Scott! You in there!”

  Pete!

  Mia, still with part of him inside her looked at him with a surprise in her eyes and slowly she let him slide out of her before running into the bathroom. He heard her spitting violently and that killed some of the illusion, especially as she returned rubbing her mouth.

  Already he had the towel back around him, limping towards the door, not quite sure what to say to Pete. It was for damn sure he wasn’t going to let him in, he knew that.

  Right now, he just didn’t want to share what had just happened. He would need to talk to Pete eventually, but he wanted to savour the moment while it lasted.

  The tenth day of Summerpeak.

  He couldn’t see right out of his eyes. Everything cast unusual shadows, the lights bright and the people blurry. All efforts aside, Wade had panicked the moment he’d first realised that, only calmed down when one of the doctors had told him it was only temporary. It would heal up and he’d be back to normal in a few months or so given frequent treatment. Suddenly he was relieved he would have been able to afford it, even if Unisco weren’t footing the bill. As they should, considering he’d been injured in the line of duty. Considering everything that had happened, it could have been a whole lot worse as well. He’d nearly hit the ground having fallen off his mount and when he’d heard the full story, he couldn’t help but feel a little bad Nick had chosen to grab him rather than catch that woman.

  That woman… She’d been a wild one. There’d been something about her which worried him, he wasn’t quite sure what she’d wanted with Maddley. Because as he’d laid here, he’d had the chance to think and he was sure it was about more than an illegal fight in the skies. People didn’t react that badly to what was a minor crime. They didn’t blow up buildings just to cover their getaway. That was like trying to get away from a parking violation by robbing a credit depository. It just wasn’t done. Not even in the slightest.

  That fucker hadn’t helped. He really hadn’t.

  It had been earlier, he’d been laid with his eyes closed, trying to ignore the sharp pains in the side of his face when he’d slowly became aware of another presence in the room, breathing not his own and the smell of an all too pungent cologne. Something about him looked familiar, the light shone off his bald head and he had a beard surrounding a face that was distinctly piggy. Not fat but the composition of the mouth and nose had that feeling about him. He wore a suit that must have been warm even under the conditioned air of the hospital.

  “Can I help you?” Wade inquired. His throat felt dry, he scrambled for the bottle of water on his bedside table. Even as he slopped some of it over his chin, it felt good. Cold and wet, the way he needed it.

  “Oh, I think you can, Mr Wallerington,” the man said with an air of sarcastic cheeriness. “I think you can. My name is Mallinson and I work with the inquisitors. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the attack on the ICCC building.”

  “Think I should debrief first,” Wade said quickly. “You’re literally the first person I’ve spoken to since I woke up who doesn’t work here. I want to talk to either Brendan King or Vas Derenko. They’re the ranking agents here.” He purposely didn’t mention the director. Even in times like these, you kept some sort of protocol going on.

  “And I want you to talk to me.” Mallinson didn’t sound impressed with his response. “Never mind those two. You’re mine for the time being, I intend to treat you that way.”

  Already Wade was wondering how best to end the conversation given he couldn’t get up and walk out of the room physically. “Well I’m not sure exactly what I’ll be able to tell you, Agent Mallinson…”

  “That’s Inquisitor Mallinson!” the bald man snapped. “Not agent.”

  That resonated a little and he suddenly remembered where he’d seen the man and heard the name before. Mallinson. The man was a legend for all the wrong reasons. All Unisco agents had heard of him, very few wanted to meet him. He’d anointed himself the guardian of Unisco integrity, a role he took all too seriously. There were other inquisitors, dozens of them, but this asshat had a rep for being the worst of them all.

  “And you’re going to tell me everything that you know. I don’t want speculation, I don’t want evasion, I want answers to my questions. You comprehend?”

  “I’m happy to help,” Wade said slowly. That piggy face contorted into a sarcastic leer at him and he would dearly have loved to have given him a smack.

  “I don’t care if you’re happy or not. Tell me about the incident in your own words. What were you and Agent Roper doing up there in the first place.”

  “Do you have a statement from Agent Roper?” Wade asked.

  Mallinson glared at him. “I’ll ask the questions here, Agent Wallerington. You might be some big shot out there but here, you’re mine so don’t forget that.”

  It had continued in that vein, Wade had answered them to the best of his ability, some of the events were blurred and he said as much to the clear displeasure of the inquisitor. He didn’t know how long they’d gone on, but he’d been permitted some rest eventually. And Mallinson had gotten up and departed, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He’d wanted to get up, test his body out but the nurses had flat out ordered him not to even try it yet.

  He hadn’t remained alone long when he’d been granted yet another surprise visitor, President Ronald Ritellia himself striding into the room like he owned the place, a couple of aides in tow as well as Tommy Je
rome and a strange woman Wade didn’t know behind him.

  “President,” he said respectfully. Ritellia might be becoming more unpopular as time went by but for the time being, he still held the title and he’d show him according respect.

  “Wade Wallerington,” Ritellia said. “How are you?”

  He wanted to laugh and laugh and laugh despite the circumstances. There was just no easy way to answer that after all.

  The fourteenth day of Summerpeak.

  The same stadium the whole thing had started, Scott noted as he found himself in the crowd once more. The second round had finished earlier with Simon Shaw edging out Edyta Bryckov with considerable difficulty, but he’d triumphed at the end. Scott had seen him on the way in, sat smugly on his own. He had a face like a rat he’d noticed, pointed and twitchy. Yet even one potential douchebag didn’t kill his mood as he drank in the atmosphere of the stadium around him.

  It felt like every time he came here, it got emptier and emptier as people went through and went home in equal numbers, spectators coming and going, the old replaced by the new and he couldn’t help feeling relieved he’d at least gotten this far. The third round. The last twenty-four. He wasn’t sure who was going out as worst winner, but he had a good feeling it wasn’t him. The rumour went around that the ICCC did at least inform the unlucky guy beforehand, so it wasn’t a shock. If that was the case, he could sit pretty knowing he’d be at least in for another match. Only four from the final. Third. Quarter. Two semi matches… He was starting to believe. Somehow, he felt more confident now than before.

  Still he could feel the presence of that ghost clamouring for his attention. Pete hadn’t known. Nothing he’d looked up had been able to explain it. Depending on when his bout was, he’d make his best efforts to go chase it down. He’d never felt obsession like this over a spirit before. Maybe it was the fact that he could feel its presence. He wanted it to stop, if claiming it was the only way, then claim it he would. Whatever it took. He wanted it out of his head.

  Mia came in with Pete, the two of them sitting next to him. He fought an urge to put an arm around Mia. All the time they were there, he couldn’t help but keep his attention on Pete. Somehow, he had a feeling that this might be the round they were drawn together. Should that happen, he honestly didn’t know if he’d be able to beat him in a straight-up, no-backing-down fight. He couldn’t say for certain he could, knew it would be tight.

  He wondered if Pete was thinking the same thing. It felt so long since they’d last clashed in battle, way back in Burykia. And he’d been with Jess then… Weird thought. He hadn’t thought about her for a while. Why should she pop into his head when he looked at Pete? He shook himself, got a strange look from Pete who rolled his eyes. Things had been strange for a while. Mia leaned over and whispered in his ear, lips bare millimetres from his skin. He could feel her breath. “Dinner after this?”

  “Sounds good,” he said. He couldn’t help but grin. “Let’s hope it goes better than last time.” He saw the slight crook in her nose and knew she got what he’d meant.

  If it had been Thomas Jerome to announce the second-round draw, the spotlight was back with Ronald Ritellia this time, the fat man waddling up with great glee as he announced his presence onstage with a harsh clearing of his throat.

  “Good ladies, likeable gentlemen,” he said, a furrow creasing his brow at the words. Scott wasn’t surprised. It sounded wrong. Maybe some speech writers would be getting fired. “Once more I find myself here before you all and I think to myself, has it really been just a few weeks since I first stood before you with Premier Nwakili and announced the tournament underway? And I always come up with the same answer. Yes, it has. But it’s not over yet, there is more and more to come. We find ourselves at the third-round stage, twenty-five contestants victorious and through…”

  He tailed off. “Except that isn’t the case. Because we find ourselves at the point where twenty-five becomes twenty-four. It has been emotional, yet all journeys must come to an end. Sometimes it must happen, sometimes it is beyond our control and today we must say goodbye to a great champion. As everyone knows, the International Calling Competitive Committee building came under attack days ago from parties unknown. Although our home may have been tarnished, our will grows stronger and we refuse to be intimidated by faceless cowards who would attack innocents.”

  His face grew black like thunder, but his voice stayed strong “However, one of our number must leave due to said attack. Wade Wallerington, you all know his name. Due to injuries suffered in this senseless attack, I spoke to Mister Wallerington yesterday myself and he has withdrawn to focus on recovering from his injuries.”

  He cleared his throat. “I would like to read aloud a statement from Mister Wallerington in relation to this.” Ritellia tapped down on a pad on the podium in front of him and cleared his throat again. “In the light of circumstances beyond my control, I have respectfully chosen to withdraw from the competition due to the nature of my injuries, feeling I will not be able to give a good account of myself from my hospital bed. I thank the staff of the hospital for their help and apologise to everyone who may feel I’ve let them down. However, I feel it would not be fair for someone else to go out under these conditions when I would likely falter in the next round. Therefore, I give my place to whoever originally had been due to depart. It is the least I can do.”

  Scott looked at Pete. Pete shrugged.

  Any touch of solemnity Ritellia might have held for the moment was lost as he raised his head and grinned at the crowds around him. “A noble sacrifice. With that out of the way, shall we see our draw for the next round?”

  Chapter Twelve. Nothing Good.

  “Well, we had to come up with a good way of containing ghosts, of course. It might get nasty eventually with thousands of them running amok. A good craftsman always has a plan. With this particle barrier, they can at least be contained over a small area, giving the caller chance to claim them. It finds the frequency the critters operate on, blocks them, stops them from running, even renders them somewhat corporeal for the time being. All completely illegal in professional bouts, for obvious reasons.”

  Thomas Rogan, inventor of the Ghost-Containment Particle Barrier, on his greatest invention.

  The eleventh day of Summerpeak.

  Alana studied the holoprojector in front of her and steadied herself. This was it. If her theory was right, she’d be lauded beyond her wildest dreams. If she was wrong, it wouldn’t be a hammer blow to her career, but it certainly wouldn’t help. But she had the hunch and it needed to pay off. The pieces were there, she was amazed she was the only one who’d fit them all together.

  Wade Wallerington. Injured. Dragon. Mistress. Uniblast. Close range. When you had them all together like that, it sounded all so simple. Alana didn’t agree with what the Mistress had done on her jaunt to Carcaradis Island. It had been a bad reckless move. Put aside privately and given the option to do so gracefully, even the Mistress might admit it wasn’t the smartest thing she’d done.

  It had fallen to her to be the one to take care of the witness. Darren Maddley had to die, there was no way around that and she’d been the one nominated to do it. And do it she had. The Mistress had ordered everyone be outfitted with the ideal weapon for assassination, the pegaserpent, a winged snake with a solitary prominent fang capable of delivering a deadly dose of poison. Through his window it had gone, it had gotten him and out it had come again. She wondered if he’d been found yet. Not that it mattered. There was nothing to tie the murder to her or to a spirit she owned or even to who she worked for. The perfect crime.

  And if she reported in her suspicions, she’d be complicit in another. If Wade Wallerington was one of the men who’d chased down the Mistress, he too would need to be dealt with. It would unlikely be her who did that, not when she’d discovered it. Taking someone by surprise was one thing. Killing a suspected Unisco agent was something beyond her specialities. She’d been there with Ritellia and that l
oathsome Thomas Jerome when he’d told them he was pulling out due to injury. The irony, she had to note. He’d had to pull out of the greatest opportunity of his life because he’d sought to interfere with something that didn’t concern him. The Mistress’ dream trumped the vision of one puny little spirit caller.

  It would make everything better. And that was all the justification she felt she would ever need as the projector fired into life and she heard the dial-up tone.

  Here we go…

  It felt like an age as the image of the Mistress flared into life in front of her, a neutral look on her aristocratic features. She was always hard to read, today her emotions were almost opaque.

  “Yes?!”

  She didn’t sound impressed. Unscheduled communications were her forte after all, not those of her underlings. Alana steeled herself, kept her own face neutral. Showing too much emotion would be her undoing, would make the Mistress question what she was hearing. She could see the Mistress’ manicured hands tapping impatiently on her desk, she made the choice to just plunge right in.

  “I have a report, my Mistress,” she said slowly. She wasn’t worried about being overheard in the slightest. These lines had the best possible security to keep out eavesdroppers.

  “Then report.” She didn’t just look impatient, she sounded it as well.

  “Your last order was carried out,” she said. Even if nobody was going to hear it, it wasn’t wise to utter the words ‘I killed’ and ‘Maddley’ in consecutive order where it could be recorded. Even less of a good idea was owning up to it. She didn’t want the Mistress to have that sort of evidence against her. “But there’s something else. Something I think you should be aware of.” She paused, teasing the words silently around the inside of her mouth to make sure they felt right. She couldn’t afford to slip.