by Tim Marquitz
Taj couldn’t help but agree. No matter how cooperative the shop owner might have been, there was no way the Heltrol could have examined the droids on hand and come to a true conclusion that they weren’t involved.
That meant either she was covering for the owner or for herself.
Either possible, Taj decided they need to talk to the shop owner themselves and see what he had to say.
She turned to face Dent. “Can the suit imitate the Heltrol outfit?” she asked.
“I don’t see why not,” he answered. “It obviously can’t adjust your real face to give you four eyes.”
“But if I process a helmet, it can mimic the complete look, right?”
Dent thought for a second and nodded. “I believe so, though it might not stand up to close examination.”
Taj grinned. “Good enough for me.”
“Wait!” Cabe called out. “What are you gonna do?”
“I’m gonna go talk to the guy.”
In the blink of an eye, her suit changed shape, taking on the form of a Heltrol soldier. She mimicked the commander rank on her arms to add some authority, grinning as the crew stared at her, wide-eyed.
“That’s kinda creepy,” Lina told her. “The suit accessorized the eyes behind the visor perfectly.”
“It’s like you’re staring into my soul,” Krawg muttered, backing away and raising his hands in surrender. “I don’t like it.”
“So, I’ll pass for Heltrol?” Taj asked with a chuckle.
“Without a doubt,” Cabe said, nodding at her. “It really is creepy. I hope you get stuck looking like this.”
Taj grinned and leaned toward him. “C’mon, baby, give me a kiss.”
Cabe covered his mouth with his hand. “Pass, thanks.”
Taj laughed and glanced over the edge of the building. “Anyone going with me?” She turned around to see Dent having altered his suit to imitate hers.
“I think it best that just you and I go,” he suggested. “Too many of us attempting to mimic the Heltrol outfits and I believe someone will notice a discrepancy, especially since there is no way to alter the appearance of height.” He glanced at Krawg as he said it.
“I’m perfectly fine with that,” the Ursite answered.
Taj agreed. “Let’s go then before any real Heltrol find a reason to come back.”
She slipped over the side of the wall where no one could see her and triggered the anti-grav fall system Dent had used earlier when they’d fled the castle. She grinned as she alighted gently on the floor.
You’ll have to show me the rest of the tricks, Dent, she told the AI over the mental link.
When we have sufficient time to train you in them, I most certainly will.
The pair strode across the street, and Taj was glad to see people going out of their way to avoid them. The locals didn’t want much to do with the royal guard, it seemed, and that was fine by Taj.
Dent opened the shop door for Taj, befitting her higher rank, and the two marched inside. The shop was small compared to the previous one, kind of a mix between the first and the second, but it was clear its technology level was sufficient to create droids like the ones that had attacked the crew.
An open alcove led to the main part of the shop past a counter covered in holo-mags of bot designs. Work was going on across several assembly lines, and Taj could see much of the process of droid assembly at work.
These were full bots, too, heads and operating systems being installed while she watched.
“Again?” a man complained, slipping off the work floor and coming to stand behind the counter. “Didn’t I already answer all your damn questions?” he asked.
Dressed in simple coveralls, the man glared at Dent and Taj with all four of his yellow eyes. His lip was peeled back in a sneer, his dark hair slicked back across his scalp. He looked angry and somewhat threatening, broader across the chest and arms than most of the Zoranthians Taj had seen since landing on the planet.
She gasped as she stared, but it was the man’s presence she was reacting to.
“Actually,” she answered, managing to not stutter. “You’re right, you have.” She spun on her heel and marched toward the door without another word.
“He has?” Dent asked, glancing back and forth between the two, clearly confused by Taj’s declaration.
The shop owner only looked slightly less confused than Dent did, clearly not having expected his brusque attitude to have worked so well at chasing the would-be guards away.
“Thank you for your time, citizen,” Taj called out and stormed from the shop, Dent on her heels. She didn’t wait for him as she crossed the street and slipped into the alley.
“What is it?” Dent asked, catching up to her. “You didn’t even ask him anything,” he argued.
Taj turned and faced him, grinning. “I didn’t have to.”
Dent waited a moment for more, then finally nudged Taj when she didn’t say anything. “And?”
“That, my friend, is called acting,” she told him with a wink. “A dramatic pause for impact.”
“Uh…” Dent blinked.
“Anyway,” Taj went on, clearly seeing the AI’s confusion, “I didn’t need to ask the owner anything.” She triggered the holo her eyepiece had captured of the room and sent it over to Dent.
The AI watched the short holo-clip, eyes going wide as it played. “The symbols behind him on the wall…” he said quietly.
“Exactly,” Taj confirmed. “Just like those in Grom’s photos.”
She grinned.
“We’ve got him.”
Chapter Twelve
The crew settled in and spent the rest of the day watching the shop.
Lina had set up tiny cameras to keep eyes on the sides and back of the building in case the owner tried to sneak out, and then they waited. And waited, and waited.
As morning turned into late afternoon, Dent went out in disguise to find the crew something to eat, as Krawg and Torbon whined incessantly until they were fed. Dent was happy to get something, if only to shut the pair up.
After that, night came on slowly. Camped out on the roof with their camo-programs running so no one nearby could see them without being right on top of the group, they’d gotten comfortable in their stakeout. Several of the crew had fallen asleep even, but Taj and Lina kept Dent company as the hours wore on.
“Does this guy live here?” Lina complained, finally losing her patience. “All his employees have left, all the systems have been shut down, and this guy is hanging around hours after all that.”
“Maybe he knows we’re here,” Taj answered, offering the engineer a tired shrug.
“Doubtful,” Dent argued. “It’s more likely that he’s waiting on someone or something. The Heltrol put so little effort into questioning him that I can’t picture the man being spooked.”
“Maybe we did, though,” Taj said.
“Also doubtful,” he replied. “Coming so soon on the heels of the first Heltrol officers, he likely believed we were simple foot soldiers who hadn’t realized he’d already been questioned. Reviewing the holo of his actions, he never once glanced at your rank or mine.”
“Which is a good thing, as we would have looked like even bigger idiots to him,” Taj grunted.
“That’s a good thing, though,” Lina clarified. “Either Rolkar is protecting him or she and her people are incompetent, as we’ve discussed. Both are likely to set him at ease.”
“Then why the gack is he still in there?” Taj complained. “We’ve been here all day and learned absolutely nothing.” She gestured to Lina’s wrist and opened her mouth to say something else, but the engineer cut her off.
“The answer is still no,” she said. “No one has gone into Grom’s place since we’ve been here.”
Taj sighed.
The streets dark below, Taj scanned the area for the millionth time, watching the few wandering homeless tread down the street again, which they’d done since the sun started to set.
&nb
sp; Once more, she couldn’t imagine living like that, nowhere to go to feel safe or sheltered. It hurt her heart to picture anyone she knew living that way, and she wondered if there was something she could do to help them.
She was contemplating what that might be when she spied movement across the street at the droid shop. Lights flickered inside, and the door swung open.
“About gacking time,” Lina growled.
Taj leaned forward and peered over the edge of the building, watching as the owner stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He carried a small duffel bag in one hand, and he triggered the building’s security with a swipe of his palm on a panel beside the door. Then he started off down the street after taking a quick glance at his surroundings and apparently finding nothing to alarm him.
Lina woke the rest of the crew as Taj stood and stretched, every joint and muscle aching from the long period of being cramped up and hunched down.
“You got him?” she asked Dent, and the AI nodded. He leapt across the roof without waiting for anyone else. “I’m going to follow him. Join me once the crew is roused and ready.”
Taj watched him go, nodding at his back as if he could see her. She turned around once Dent disappeared and waved the crew on.
“Let’s go, people,” she ordered. “Wakey, wakey.”
“I don’t wanna,” Torbon whined, stumbling to his feet and wavering as he stretched, yawning widely.
“We finish the mission, then you can go home and sleep in a comfortable bed, eat all the food you want, and not have to worry about battle droids breaking in and trying to kill you,” Taj told him.
“That was almost motivational,” Cabe told her, chuckling under his breath.
“Practice makes perfect,” she said, once more motioning for them to get moving. “Let’s go. Don’t want Dent getting too far away.”
“Can’t have that now, can we?” Torbon muttered, walking over to the ledge of the building and glancing down at the street below. “Can we rent a hover-cab?”
Taj grunted. “I wish.” Then she leapt across the intervening space between the buildings, landing on the neighboring roof.
She didn’t need to look back to see if the rest of the crew had followed her, her scanners assured her that they had. So, she continued on, chasing Dent’s signal. The AI had been moving relatively slowly as he stalked the shop owner, whose name they had determined to be Jal Doro after searching the city’s servers.
Jal took his time wherever he was going, and Taj and the others caught up to Dent before long, while Jal continued casually on his way.
Any idea where he’s going? Taj asked, resorting to the mental link out of paranoia more than any real chance that the shop owner could hear her on the roof.
“Only that he’s leading us in the general direction of Grom Hadar’s hideout,” he answered using the comm.
Taj watched as the man walked below, moving as though he were out for an evening stroll. Considering the neighborhood he was traveling through, Taj had to admire his confidence. It was clear he either belonged there or he knew something the resident bad influences didn’t, which made him feel comfortable walking through such an area with no obvious way to defend himself.
Finally, after following Jal to the edge of town, he slowed at a corner and glanced around furtively, showing the first sign of nervousness since he’d left his shop. A moment later, once he was apparently satisfied he was alone, which made Taj chuckle, he slipped around the corner and marched straight toward a recessed door in the building across the way. The crew followed above.
At the door, Jal knocked with a hesitant, rhythmic motion. He leaned against the wall while he waited, doing his best to appear casual, but he didn’t pull it off well. And seeing that only made Taj think she’d made the right decision to follow him. He finally looked as if he were doing something he shouldn’t be, and that had to be a good thing for Taj and her crew.
A few long moments later, the door eased open without a sound, and Taj spied a man in black robes hovering behind the door, doing his best to remain out of sight. He waved Jal in without saying a word and shut the door immediately afterward.
“See the robes?” Taj asked.
Dent nodded. “I did indeed.”
“This is the place then?” Cabe asked.
“Looks that way,” she answered, staring down at the sealed door Jal had gone through. “The only question now is how we go about getting inside.”
The best thing about secretive societies,” Lina explained, grinning all the while, “is that they are secretive.”
“Insightful,” Krawg muttered.
“My point being,” Lina went on, “is that they don’t operate in places where there is a lot of traffic.” She waved her arm about, gesturing toward the silent, dark street below. “No one’s gonna notice if we go down there and knock on the door like good ol’ Jal did.”
Dent nodded his agreement. “I’m not picking up any security systems on the building or door, and I don’t even see a peephole on it. No one inside will know who is knocking if we use their code.”
“Except if everyone who’s showing up is already there,” Taj argued, but she was certain it was still the best idea. “Let’s do it.”
Taj pointed to Lina. “Stick around up here and watch the door and let us know if anyone is coming, okay?”
Lina snarled but agreed without arguing.
Taj gave the engineer a quick hug, whispering in her ear, “You’re the only one I trust to watch our backs.”
Lina snorted at the obviously false reassurance, not bothering to reply, and the crew slipped over the side of the building and made their way across the street. They slipped over in front of the door and stepped to the side of it as Taj imitated Jal’s rhythmic knock.
She waited impatiently as time crept by, wondering if a plan so simple as knocking on a door was going to backfire. A minute later, however, she heard the bolts being drawn inside, and the door swung open just as it had for Jal, no questions asked.
A pale man in black robes stared out at her with four eyes, all of which narrowed with recognition an instant later. He opened his mouth to shout, but Taj struck him neatly in the jaw. His four eyes rolled back, and he collapsed. Dent caught him before he hit the ground, slipping inside with the fallen man and setting him against the wall.
“Nice punch,” Cabe complimented.
“Helps having powered armor,” she said, but she couldn’t keep from grinning. It felt good to punch the man.
The rest of the crew stepped inside and shut the door behind them, locking it. A long corridor stretched out from the door, and Taj could hear muted voices in the distance. Like the secret knock, there was a rhythm to it that seemed almost musical, as if the voices were chanting.
Taj started off toward the sound.
“We just leaving him here?” Cabe asked.
“He’ll be out for a while,” Dent assured, grabbing the man’s chin and turning his head to both sides while scanning him. “He has a solid concussion and won’t be much of a worry as long as we’re not here overly long.”
Cabe shrugged and followed after Taj. Torbon tailed along without arguing, and Dent brought up the rear.
All clear out here, Lina reported. Seems no one even noticed you.
That’s a good thing, Taj answered back. All good in here, too.
Lina cut communications at that and let the crew get on with their task.
Taj crept through the hallway, careful where she placed every footstep to avoid making a sound. The rest of the crew followed her lead until Dent chuckled in their ears over the comm.
“You do realize that the suits employ sound-suppressing technology, yes?” he asked from behind them, watching their every move with amusement. “Unless you go out of your way to make a bunch of noise, stomping your feet, striking the walls, no one is going to hear you coming,” he explained.
“Now you tell us,” Torbon grunted, straightening and stretching.
“We nee
d a full training on these suits and their capabilities,” Taj mumbled, remembering when she’d clung to the wall while sneaking out of the palace. She’d been so afraid the guard would hear her then, only she hadn’t needed to be worried about it at all, even though the guards had said they heard something. She wondered how it worked so she could be certain.
“You need only ask,” Dent replied with a shrug.
“That’s convenient,” Taj groaned, waving the crew on. They didn’t have time to get into a discussion about what the suits could and couldn’t do right then, and she sure didn’t want to give Torbon the opportunity to start quizzing Dent. They’d be there all day if that happened.
Taj slipped to the edge of the hallway and peeked furtively around the corner. She nearly gasped at what she saw.
Almost exactly like Grom Hadar’s pictures, a cluster of men gathered in the center of the room just the other side of where Taj crouched. They wore the same black robes the man at the door had, as well as those seen in the photos.
Their voices rose in an awkward, but surprisingly melodic, wave, the words coming out as gibberish, Taj’s translator not understanding any of them.
She glanced about, spying more of the symbols she had seen in the photos and at Jal’s shop. She looked to find the droid shop owner, but there was no way to tell him apart from the others.
The man in the center was the only one who stood out as different.
Taj zeroed in on his exposed face as he stood in silent reflection, recognizing him as the same man she’d seen before. He carried the same book, and though she could see it better this time around, there was nothing on its cover she could use to identify it.
She let her suit record the scene playing out before her, making sure to zoom in on the man’s lowered features, as well as all the symbols she could see in order to have a decent recording, should she need them. She also made sure the sound was recording, so she could translate what they were saying at some point.
What the gack are they doing? Torbon asked, inching over by Taj so he could see directly and not just catch a feed of what Taj was witnessing and passing back to them. This is some ritualistic shaman-type gack, looks like.