The Great Game Trilogy

by O. J. Lowe

  Matthaus Tammer, Serranian author.

  The eighth day of Summerfall.

  To say security had been massively stepped up was perhaps an understatement, Wade considered as he and his travelling companion stepped off the boat and felt the dry land of Carcaradis Island underneath his feet. It felt good to be back. Even though his eyes still hurt a little behind the dark glasses shielding them from the afternoon sun, he didn’t realise quite how much of the atmosphere he’d missed of this place. If anything, the sudden increase of potential danger had sparked it back into life, even with the added security.

  Far from being cowed, people had set out to show they were going to enjoy the last few days of the tournament before harsh realities kicked in. There’d been a big thing a week or two earlier how Ritellia had promised to bring in a Vazaran Sun presence to help ensure the peace was kept. Considering recent revelations, that presence had been quashed, removed from the island and replaced with a fresh influx of Unisco agents and local Vazaran cops from the mainland.

  Not even Ritellia was stupid enough to fly his own flag in the face of something like this. Things weren’t looking good for him; rumours were rife that he was being forced into stepping down when the tournament concluded the following day. Being associated with Claudia Coppinger by proxy looked like it might have done for him, especially given her role in ensuring the locale for the Quin-C as well as certain allegations about his private life.

  Thomas Jerome was already playing up to the media, to get in as the front runner for the next head of the ICCC, a move Wade personally found distasteful but in well keeping with the man’s prior behaviour. Whatever happened over the coming months, it was unlikely the spirit calling governing body was going to be much towards the front of it. People would have more important things on their minds. It was quite incredible really, by the sounds of it Ritellia had fought tooth and nail just to ensure that the final was held. There had been calls for it to be cancelled and rearranged for a later date, or even declare it a draw and split the prize money between the two finalists, something Wade had to concede would probably have been for the best. But no, it wasn’t to be, and it had gone ahead. Just as planned.

  It was finally here, Wade had noted. Just six short weeks after it had started, the final was fast approaching, and, in a way, he was relieved. He’d come here with the intent of dominating, he felt himself grow anxious with thoughts of what could have been. What wasn’t to be, wasn’t to be. He couldn’t complain. He’d done what he felt was the right thing, about the only thing he could do; he’d been way too ill to compete. Always there’d be regrets but he couldn’t let them paralyse him. There was too much at stake for indecision.

  “Remember, a regret is an opportunity missed, but an opportunity missed leads to an opportunity taken down the line.”

  It was largely because of the final being held the following day that the figure with him had arrived. One of Wade’s oldest friends, they’d come through Unisco training together, been partnered up on their first assignments. He hadn’t seen much of him over the last five years but the last fortnight in his presence had been eye-opening, figuratively. Of course, he did have a lot of those insightful statements to add to every situation. The older he’d gotten, the more he believed his wisdom had grown. Wade wasn’t sure about that, but he was bloody glad to have him at his back. After all, Ruud Baxter had a certain reputation. Not just as the man who was about to hand back the trophy, a sign his reign as champion of the Quin-C had come to the end. A lot of people didn’t believe he was still alive for one thing; five years of solitude would do that to a man’s public image. Of course, Wade knew the truth. The two of them hid few secrets from each other, at least to his knowledge.

  “We all have regrets,” he said softly. Getting through customs was a slow process this time, the guards insisted on searching everyone individually. Vazaran police from the mainland clad in sweat stained uniforms, Wade winced at the sight. If they didn’t like you, you weren’t getting through. And even all things considered, they were probably still less reliable than the Suns. At least the Suns were notorious for being incorruptible beyond their high doctrine. They wouldn’t take bribes to avoid doing their job. Idly he toyed with flashing his badge and moving past the searches, but it wouldn’t help his companion.

  “Don’t worry,” Ruud said. “I’ll be through faster than you, I’d imagine.” He was a slender man in his late thirties with a fading tan, almost dapper in his built and of averaging height, unremarkable but for the thick black hair dropping down to his lower back, growing wild on his chin. He still carried the cane, although as far as Wade was aware, he’d never actually needed it. He was just a notorious eccentric where it was concerned, about the most physical use he had for it was occasionally whacking the shins of those in his way.

  That aside, he had a sense of an easy-going nature about him, one that suggested he didn’t take life too seriously. Clad in a sapphire blue suit and jaunty hat with a cream coloured rim-band, he cut a dashing figure on the docks, easily standing out amidst the tourists. Very few recognised him, largely Wade guessed down to the fact he’d been clean shaven and short haired when he’d won the tournament.

  “Want to bet, my friend?”

  He’d overheard some of Ruud’s exchange and mentally kicked himself. There was always the lesson about gambling, never knowing how the cards were stacked or might fall for you. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Ruud display his pass card with its wildly incomparable photo and the security official studying it pensively. Ruud smiled at him. Two people behind him in the queue, one of them a redheaded girl studying her summoner, her foot tapping against the ground. She looked… If not unnerved, then definitely agitated. Wade smiled as he saw her. They must think his eyes worse than they were.

  “Need to search your bags,” the official grunted. “Official procedure.”

  That smile only grew. “Of course, I understand. But it isn’t needed here, you see.” Those eyes locked on the officials, there was more than a bit of a twinkle in them. Ruud could be quite charming when he needed to be. He remembered back in the day, women had thrown themselves at him.

  “I see. It’s not needed here.”

  “Thanks. You’ve been most helpful.” Eyes still locked, grin still plastered across his tanned face, Ruud clapped him on the shoulder. “Have a nice day sir.”

  “Always here to help. Have a nice day, sir.”

  Wade had beaten him through. But not by much and he still had to contend with Ruud’s smirk as he slipped the credit over. He was careful not to look him in the eye, he knew that much. Looking him in the eyes was always an interesting experience. Ruud’s eyes were mismatched, one a dull brown the same shade as mud, one a brilliant sky blue. No matter which one you met, always you got the impression he could see through anything you’d say, pick out the lies and then play you at your own game.

  “You know, you should really inform people these guys are very susceptible to that trick,” Wade said thoughtfully. “It’s quite worrying.”

  Ruud shrugged. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  “What about the two young men who’ve been watching you ever since we got on the boat?” Wade asked, keeping his voice neutral. “Have they anything to hide? What about the women? And what about you, dear cousin!” He raised his voice, the redhead behind them reacting with a start. “You must be slipping if you think I wouldn’t notice.”

  “Okay so I didn’t come alone,” Ruud grinned. “An entourage is always nice.” He held out his hands in front of him, a gesture of mock surrender. “Besides, you never know what’s going to happen, do you?” Something about his voice made Wade straighten up and take note. Ruud might be an annoying bastard at times, he might have a layer of extreme self-confidence bordering not just on arrogant but obscene, but he had reason to be. He could back it up, knew what he was talking about, and you disregarded it at your own peril.

  “I wondered how long it’d take for you to notice me,” Clara
said, moving in. Wade grinned at his younger cousin. “Thought you’d forgotten.”

  “And then the hells froze over,” Wade replied dryly, stepping over to embrace her happily. “Not about to happen. Not going to forget my favourite cousin. I’ll play my part and Baxter’ll play his games. We all know how much he enjoys those.”

  “Only because you failed utterly to win this one completely, my friend,” Ruud said. “I knew you’d noticed I wasn’t alone on this trip. But I doubted you’d notice everyone I had with me.” His grin was just about unbearable. “Safety in numbers, double that for the unknown.”

  “Do you know something?”

  “I know a lot of things. You could too if you just believed…” Ruud trailed off his voice, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Wade. “You need not fear what you do not understand. That path leads to hatred and anger. It’s not a dictate to live by, it’s just good advice for living a good life.”

  “I’ve told you before…”

  “Your cousin embraced it, the power is strong in you and yet you choose to let it atrophy like a useless limb. Very few people in your position would turn it down. We’ve told each other a lot of things before.”

  Wade glanced back and forth around them, narrowed his eyes and folded his arms defensively. Clara had fallen in alongside him and Ruud, he shot her a disparaging look and kept it on her until she fell back several steps. She didn’t need to hear what he and Ruud were talking about. “And perhaps that’s a better thing for the world that I do. I’m not afraid of what I might do…”

  “False.” He said it quietly, but it still had all the emphasis of a whip crack.

  “I’m not!” Wade insisted Once more he glanced about them, still too many people on the docks, still a chance their private conversation would not remain so for much longer. “There’s a great deal of difference between fear and respect. I respect power enough to know maybe it shouldn’t be used.”

  “You’re not going to change his mind, Master,” Clara called forth. A few people looked at her, she brushed them off as if they weren’t there. Both Ruud and Wade looked back at her, stern looks urging her to quieten down. She did but didn’t look happy. The two men Wade had spotted earlier fell in with her, soon they were out of eyesight.

  “Your cousin is headstrong,” Ruud said wearily. “A chore indeed.”

  “Always has been. You didn’t grow up with her.” Wade smirked to himself, before adding. “You didn’t know her when she was a teenager. Or when she discovered guys. That! That was an interesting time. My uncle never quite recovered from it.”

  “There’s not many challenges I’d turn down,” Ruud said. “But that part of parenthood is something I’m really not ready to face.”

  “Don’t you need another person for that?!” Wade’s smirk said it all. Ruud gave him a sardonic look in reply.

  “Your wit remains as dry as ever.”

  “Some things don’t change, I think you’ll find,” Wade said. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you know something?”

  Ruud said nothing for a moment, instead choosing to look over at the ocean with deliberate thoughtfulness. He cleared his throat, rubbed the edge of his sleeve against his mouth. “Hard to say,” he said. “The future is always in motion, snake-like. Always weaving one way and another, every choice brings about something new, it’s almost impossible to predict accurately. Beyond me to get it right every time. The seers of the old Vedo order went mad very quickly trying to get it right. It burns out the mind. I’ll take a murky future and relative sensibility over knowing what’s coming and drooling at the mouth, thank you very much. About the only thing I know for sure is I desire a shave.”

  “The old Vedo order,” Wade said. “I remember all the stories you told me about them once upon a time. I didn’t believe half of them.”

  “Well therein lay your mistake,” Ruud said. They were rapidly approaching the second set of customs officials, so far twice as many present when Wade had come here the first time. “Your fault is not that you don’t believe, rather you don’t believe enough. Most of them weren’t true to start with, being fair. Time has greatly exaggerated the deeds of the long dead. The truth always was the Vedo of the past were victims of their own insularity.”

  “And this is a group you’re trying to rope me into joining,” Wade said sarcastically. “And then you wonder at the same time why I’m not keen.”

  “The Vedo of the past are all dead to the best of my knowledge,” Ruud said. “Those of the future won’t repeat those mistakes. I’ll see to that.”

  “And what of fresh mistakes? In avoiding those of the past, is there not a risk you might inadvertently create worse ones?”

  Ruud said nothing. Wade knew he’d scored a point but perhaps it wasn’t the best time to bring it up. “The old order had many advantages, many decades to grow and become the behemoth it did,” he eventually said. “The new one won’t be built in a day. Five years since the old one fell. The wounds are still fresh; the healing process is a slow one. Every venture has its risks and you cannot in any sense of reason, avoid them. Risk is what makes it worth it in the end.”

  The first thing he’d wanted to do upon leaving customs was go to the small cemetery out in the very centre of the island, just a few minutes’ walk from the stadium where the final would take place tomorrow, Wade noticing he was shaken as he entered. If he’d been unflappable walking through customs, then he was struggling now as he strode towards the one solitary grave. He’d brought flowers. Vazaran lilies, he’d seen him drop a lot of credits into the hand of the vendor. More than enough. The old man had looked like all his birthdays had come at once and even some of his Winterheights’. He hadn’t hung around as Wade had scooped everything up and walked away, his arms full of the blooms. The lilies were a mix of pure whites, sand tinted creams and even some dull pinks, none too shabby. They were intended to grow in these conditions, Wade guessed that much. He wasn’t a gardener, probably wouldn’t ever be. Nor were they the only flowers that would lay across the single grave, the headstone hadn’t even been laid yet.

  The dirt was packed solid, a large photo of her stood at the head of it. A few other people stood around in silence, none of them gave either of them a second glance. One person had a picture box out, was taking a photo. Ruud craned his head around to look at him as they passed, locking a long lingering gaze on him and the Burykian quickly lowered it. He almost walked into someone else in his hurry to leave.

  “It’s too damn bad,” Ruud eventually said, turning his attention back to the grave. He’d laid out the flowers on the dirt amidst the already considerable array of blooms, careful to make sure he didn’t disturb those left by others. “I wish I could have gotten out here for this.”

  “Me too,” Wade said. “She was special, wasn’t she?”

  “Just a touch,” Ruud agreed. “Just a touch. Never met anyone like her.” He was shaking properly now, Wade noticed, arms folded about himself and knuckles clenched white. “I felt her die you know. Wasn’t a pleasant thing. She put out a real kick when she went. Wouldn’t have surprised me if everyone sensitive for a hundred miles around felt her go. Either sensitive or close to her. She had a way about her. Can’t teach that. Real warm and receptive. Everyone loved her.”

  “Except Maddley Junior,” Wade said, he couldn’t even bring about a grin. It was grim out here, depressing, threatening to wear him down, would do it to them both if they stayed here much longer. And yet they needed to be here, all because of a senseless war invoked by a woman with an outlaw complex who should have known better. Sharon Arventino had died senselessly and painfully. “But I think she even won him over in the end.”

  “You know who did it yet?” Ruud asked. “Any leads?”

  “Roper says it was Wim Carson. You might have seen there’s a big bounty on him… Well a bounty. He’s on the kill list. And there’s strong evidence to suggest there was a second person involved. They recovered fibres and hair from the room that hinted Harvey
Rocastle was involved in some way. He’d definitely been in that room at some point.”

  “Rocastle?”

  “Spirit dancer and probable sociopath. He has a history with women, not in a sexual way but in a potentially abusive way. Tried to kidnap the director’s daughter right from this very island, if you can believe it. He was working for Reims while he was here, recruiting several disillusioned callers for what Agent Caldwell called Rocastle’s Angels. They were believed to be forming an elite spirit combat group, sort of like their own version of Unisco.”

  Ruud frowned. “Or to counter you, perhaps. Secret warriors to face you on your type of terms.”

  “Maybe.”

  “He really tried to kidnap the director’s daughter?”

  Wade nodded. “I stopped him myself. Fought him, beat him, slapped the cuffs on him. He escaped from custody when we were transporting him to the mainland. The convoy was attacked by Vazaran Sun fighters and we never saw them again. At least not until the whole battle when some of our pilots were retrieved.”

  “You’re remarkably in the loop considering your sick leave.”

  “Well I like to stay in it,” Wade said. “I’m surprised they haven’t tried calling you back up to active status given how bad it looks like it might get.”

  Ruud laughed. “I might do it under the right circumstances. Which there undoubtedly aren’t any right now.”

  “You don’t get the right circumstances during war,” Wade said before sighing heavily. “I think Arnholt wants to see you while you’re here. I believe he’s going to ask you about Wim Carson. He had what Nick claims was Sharon’s weapon.”

  “Her kjarnblade?”

  “Yeah. That’d hint he was, if not responsible for her death then at least involved somewhere along the line. I don’t think he’s going to be as easy to deal with as people think.”

  “He shouldn’t even be a part of this,” Ruud said. “Wim Carson was a Vedo, he swore certain oaths and everything he does now he’s involved with this woman breaks each one of them. Last I was aware; he didn’t even have his powers…”