“Here you are,” the director said as we stopped outside our shuttle’s hangar. “Do what you have to, Graves, but try not to start a full-scale rebellion while you’re down there. I’ve got enough of a mess up here to deal with already.”
I smirked and shook his hand. “As always, I’ll try not to cause too much of a stir. We’ll keep you in the loop.”
“Good.”
“And let us know if you get any more out of the harvester’s crew.”
The director grinned mischievously. “I’ll take good care of them. If the crew knows anything else about this Kale Drayton character or what happened, I’ll get it out of them. Dealing with Ringers is what I get paid to do.”
“Handsomely I’ll bet.”
He chuckled. “Good luck, Graves.” He turned and nodded firmly in Zhaff’s direction. It was the most warmhearted acknowledgment he’d offered the Cogent since we’d arrived at the Ring. He even waited for Zhaff to salute before walking away.
Zhaff and I made our way into the hangar. My legs were starting to feel reinvigorated after the workout I’d gotten on the Piccolo. I decided I’d have to try to rub that in his face when the Cogent glanced down at his hand-terminal and stopped.
“This way,” he said. He yanked my arm and directed me back outside the hangar toward a tram line.
I shrugged him off me. “Hangar’s right here,” I said, confused.
“We are early. Luxarn Pervenio would like to meet with you before we go down. We will not be left behind.”
The words came out of Zhaff’s mouth as though he’d just spoken an ordinary sentence. My mouth fell open and my throat went dry. That was a request I never thought I’d hear.
“You’re joking?” I asked.
“I am not. He arrived late last evening to oversee the efforts being taken to pacify the Ring.”
“What could he possibly want with me?”
I immediately thought the worst. I figured Zhaff’s report had finally made it to him, which had likely broken down our entire day on Earth piece by piece, stressing every point where I ignored his advice. Director Sodervall may have been content with moving on after the Piccolo, but Luxarn Pervenio was a completely different animal. In thirty years as a collector I’d never even been within a hundred meters of him, though I couldn’t recall having botched such a significant job, let alone two in a row if I counted Undina. My fears over forced retirement resurfaced.
“He did not inform me,” Zhaff replied as again he reached out to pull me toward the tram.
I was too distracted to fight him. Zhaff specifically said he, and he was always specific about his words. That meant this time Luxarn had messaged him directly while my hand-terminal remained quiet. It seemed at every turn since our introduction I’d completely underestimated the Cogent Initiative and what it meant to my employer.
We rode the tram a short distance across the station. I asked Zhaff what he thought Luxarn might want more times than I can remember, but he didn’t offer any information. We arrived at a private suite of rooms all strung together by ample hallways with portions of the walls trimmed with real wood. Not the faux shit you see on most of the colonies throughout Sol, either. The real thing. I could tell because it gave off a pleasant, earthy aroma that I’d only ever experienced in the Pervenio-owned tree farms back on Earth. Very few places existed in Sol that displayed authentic wood like it was meant for decoration.
Heavily armed Pervenio officers were posted everywhere, and there were dozens of adjacent hangars being used to test military equipment and various other technologies. Zhaff led me to a set of towering doors clad entirely with mahogany. Two officers stood outside, but they didn’t say or do anything besides stare straight ahead.
A retinal scanner was built into one of the doors. Zhaff placed his eye-lens against it and the doors swung open without delay.
“I will wait here,” he said, stepping aside.
I took short, wary strides inside, until the door sealed shut behind me. The inside of Luxarn Pervenio’s office was much like the rest of his compound—pearly metals everywhere with even more wood trimming. There was even a wooden molding wrapping the ceiling that was hand-sculpted with the images of fruits and vines, some of which were long extinct. An assortment of old-world relics lined the walls, from faded paintings to marble statues that may have been missing limbs but remained remarkably life-like.
The opposite end of the room had a wide viewport extending along an angled portion of the floor. Through it floated Saturn, the planet’s icy Rings slashing like a sickle blade through the blackness. A desk fashioned out of mahogany like the door was centered in front of it. Luxarn sat at it, facing away from me toward the translucency.
“Do you realize how vast our solar system is?” he said. His smooth voice teemed with the eloquence of a man raised among the highest echelon of Earthers.
I assumed he was waiting for a response since he stopped speaking, but I was too much in disbelief of where I was standing to come up with anything snappy. I waited quietly until he continued speaking on his own.
“Millions upon millions of kilometers of dark, empty space and here we men are, longing to fill it all.” He rotated his chair to face me. “Truly remarkable, isn’t it, Mr. Graves?”
His face had a peculiar look, one that never showed on any of the hundreds of newscasts I’d seen him on. It wasn’t immediately obvious like cheap cosmetic surgeries were, but there was an undeniable artificial quality to him. He had the bone structure of a middle-aged man, but stretched over the top of it was smooth, handsome skin that looked like it belonged to someone not beyond his mid-twenties. His combed, brown hair didn’t have even a touch of gray to it, and his hazel eyes still bore the insatiable hunger of youth. Despite all of that, I knew he was actually older than I was, considering that according to recordings he was already a teenager when his father first sent crewed transports to Saturn before the Great Reunion.
“It is—” I froze. I wasn’t even sure what to call him…Mr. Pervenio, or boss, or sir. He was the wealthiest man in all of Sol, and arguably the most powerful if one subscribed to the idea that the USF was merely a figurehead like I did. I settled on: “Sir.”
“There is no need to be coy, Mr. Graves,” he replied. “I’ve heard tales about your sharp tongue. I wouldn’t want you to restrain it on my account. Come, sit.” He beckoned me to the chair opposite his. He was as stately in his gestures as Zhaff was robotic. Even the manner in which the loose sleeves of his exquisite, crimson tunic drooped seemed intentional.
“How many stories?” I countered, not wanting to disappoint. I stepped forward and took a seat, though not without checking my peripheries to ensure we were completely alone. The situation was too unusual for me to feel at ease.
“Enough of them. I keep track of all my collectors. I have a great deal of respect for what you do for me.”
“And yet, somehow, I have a hard time believing you’ve invited me here to congratulate me on a job well done.”
“I suppose not,” he said, amused. “Are you thirsty?”
“Always.” If we were about to discuss retirement plans I wasn’t about to deny an opportunity to drink with Luxarn Pervenio, or anybody to be honest. That was another lesson I’d have to teach Zhaff. Never turn down a free drink.
Luxarn looked away from me. “Bot, can you retrieve the barrel-aged whiskey, 2284 vintage?”
“Yes, sir,” an automated voice with a soothing accent responded.
Something zoomed by my head so quickly I ducked and nearly fell from my chair. When I was able to look again, I saw a metal sphere hovering near a counter built into the wall. Its tiny anti-grav engine sounded like a vacuum and left behind a trail of distortion from its underside. Delicate appendages extended from all over its bulbous body. One lifted a bottle of whiskey with a tag I didn’t recognize and poured it into two glasses being held by others.
“Remarkable prototype, isn’t it?” Luxarn asked. “I haven’t thought of a name yet, but one day house
holds throughout Sol will be able to own one of their own.”
“A personal bartender,” I said. “Not bad.”
“The Pervenio Service Bot will help with all of your everyday needs,” he pronounced as if he were quoting somebody. “Or something like that. I pay a large sum for people to think of better slogans than me.”
“I got into the wrong line of business.”
The bot placed two orbs of ice into each glass before soaring back over to us. On the front side, or what I had to assume was it, was a large, circular, yellow-hued lens. The way it rotated and focused reminded me of Zhaff’s eye-lens. As it grew nearer I could distinguish all of the mobile panels of its metal shell, which likely concealed other useful arms. One probably had a screwdriver, and I had no question that one day another would wield a pistol. With humanity’s focus on expansion, robotics was one field that had fallen to the wayside. It seemed I might live long enough to see Mr. Pervenio change that.
It stopped by the edge of the table, wavering a bit, and placed our glasses down harder than expected. The clank echoed. Luxarn’s glass nearly spilled, but he was able to catch it.
“Still working out a few kinks,” he groused before raising his drink. “This whiskey is from the year we made contact with the Ring. Most men wouldn’t appreciate it. I’m sure you will.”
I nodded and returned the gesture. Then we each took a swig without saying anything else. I preferred the bite of something cheaper to wake me up, but it went down smoother than any drink I’d ever had the pleasure of tasting.
I wiped my tingling lips and went to speak, then noticed the yellow glare of the bot. I was exhausted with the color. “Sir, would you mind?”
Luxarn swallowed a mouthful of whiskey and laughed. He patted his mouth with a folded napkin sitting on his desk. “Bot, please go and wait by the counter.”
“Yes sir.” It hummed away, finally allowing me to focus.
“So why did you invite me here, sir?” I asked. “Zhaff and I are about to head down to Titan and catch the smugglers you’re after.”
“Straight to the point,” Luxarn said. “I like that. You’d have made a shrewd businessman.”
“I’ll add it to my list of occupations to consider after I retire.”
“Retire?” His brow furrowed. “I hope not yet. Especially not after what you and Zhaff were able to accomplish on the Piccolo. I remain in dire need of your services. You see, my father risked all his wealth backing the efforts to send colony transports to Saturn and reunite with our lost kin. Now Ringers like the one you encountered on Earth and saw on that horrific recording are threatening to shatter the fragile alliance I have spent half a century cultivating here.”
I did my best to conceal my relief. I had a feeling I’d gained a bit of rope in my job security after the Piccolo, but it was still nice to hear it out loud. “To be honest, sir, after Zhaff’s report about what happened on Earth I never thought I’d be here,” I said.
“Yes. I saw every excruciating detail of that report. How is your new partner, by the way?”
“Excruciating.” I downed my whiskey and set the glass on the table. “But he’s good at what he does and I can respect that.”
Luxarn suppressed a chuckle. “Trust me, Cogents definitely have their uses, but Zhaff wouldn’t have gotten anything out of that Ringer anyway. I doubt he knew anything other than where to place the bomb. According to Director Sodervall, dozens of the Ringers responsible for inciting recent riots on Titan have been detained and none of them seem to have any reason other than distaste for people like you and me. Someone somewhere told them to do something awful, and they listened without asking who. These Children of Titan are a new sort of enemy. No structured leadership, and yet incredibly precise.”
“Yeah, Zhaff and I have already gotten a taste of that. But we’ve got our assignment, sir, so what exactly are you asking?”
“I invited you here because I know you’re not stupid. A little too rash perhaps, but in thirty years you’ve only managed to serve my company loyally. As I said, I do pay attention. There isn’t a single collector I know of who’s been on the job as long as you have without calling it quits or winding up dead. So either you’re lucky, or you’re exceptionally good at what you do.”
“A little bit of both if you ask me. More unlucky than not lately it seems.”
“Perhaps, but your tiny failures have given you a greater glimpse at the kind of fanatics we’re dealing with. That, and despite everything Zhaff noted about your inability to take his advice on Earth, he also informed me that you were the one who got a lead on the bomber and managed to save his life on the Piccolo.”
“Did he?” I asked, completely shocked.
“He did. And even he missed the fact that the explosion in New London was merely a distraction, which is why you are here now. I’ve never seen him work well with anybody else.”
“Well might be a bit of a stretch.”
“Yet here we are.” Luxarn paused and took the final sip of his drink. He lifted the empty glass in my direction. “Would you?”
I happily obliged. One word to the bot and he had it carry the bottle over and top us off, fresh ice and all. The Ring had no lack of it.
“Zhaff is extremely important to Pervenio Corp,” he continued, “so I’m hoping that after you successfully retrieve what was stolen along with those responsible, you will stay here and continue to work with him so that we can bring an end to these Children of Titan. Call it an extended assignment.”
The request for a prolonged partnership definitely wasn’t the way I saw our conversation going. Obviously I couldn’t say no to him, even if the thought of countless more missions and months alongside Zhaff made me itch. There was no better person to have stuffing your pockets than Luxarn Pervenio. Director Sodervall’s unexpectedly pleased reaction to seeing me on Pervenio station was beginning to make a little more sense. If I had the backing of Luxarn, then his only choice was to force a smile and act like my closest friend…though I couldn’t explain his treatment of Zhaff.
“For how long?” I asked before I could stop myself and think of a gentler way to put it.
Luxarn’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment I saw the ravenous glare of the man who owned half of Sol. “As long as I require,” he said sternly. “This is too crucial a time to display weaknesses. I have Venta Co and Red Wing Company breathing down my neck, trying to prove that Jupiter is as viable an option for gas harvesting as Saturn. After that horrid attack on the Piccolo people may start listening to them. If we can’t continue to work safely here, then immigrants might stop coming. I can’t have that.”
“No need to explain to me. I’ll continue to work with the freak for as long as it takes, but only under one condition.” I immediately realized that I may’ve again been too bold. Luxarn’s eyebrows lifted in astonishment. He definitely wasn’t used to being spoken to in such a manner.
“And what is that?”
I took a deep breath. It was too late to back down. “I won’t take orders from a kid. I want the same deal as on Earth. He can offer whatever advice he wants, but I’m in charge.”
Luxarn’s expression relaxed, as if he’d expected a different request. “Of course. Deferring to your experience will do him well. And know that you will be paid generously for looking after him. Twice the usual rates, considering he doesn’t need credits.”
“I had a feeling he didn’t,” I replied, withholding a grin. I wanted to say that if I’d known how beneficial screwing up a job would be, I would’ve done it more often, but I decided to hold my tongue. I didn’t want to remind him of that after receiving such a promising offer. Instead, I tossed back the rest of my whiskey, stood, and saluted him. “Thank you, sir.”
“No. Thank you, Mr. Graves.”
As I turned to leave he stopped me by clearing his throat.
“Oh,” he began, calmly, “and Zhaff may look young, but I would advise heeding his counsel when you can. That freak is my son.”
&
nbsp; I almost choked on air as I processed what he said. I stared back at Luxarn, who leaned forward with his fingers steepled on the top of his desk and his gaze boring through me. The spherical bot hovered beside him, all-too-familiar yellow lens aimed straight in my direction. I knew I probably should’ve kept walking, but the liquor in my belly convinced me to do otherwise.
“What are you saying?” I questioned. As far as I knew Luxarn Pervenio didn’t have a legitimate heir to his empire yet.
Luxarn poured himself another glass of whiskey and drank the entire thing in a single gulp. He wiped his mouth with his hand this time. Then he said: “His mother was an offworlder from Mars without a name. I couldn’t have an illegitimate smear my name so I made sure he was kept a secret and left him in her care. That didn’t mean I could help loving him, but he was always a troubled boy. He didn’t speak for the first four years of his life…he just watched, waited.
“As he got older others his age didn’t take kindly to his silence, but he couldn’t be bullied. He couldn’t be rattled. My son would sit there and take the beatings until one day a boy went too far. Unable to get a rise out of Zhaff, he beat his face so bad that sight in his left eye was lost and would never recover.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I’ve seen him at work,” I cut in. “No way would he have let some boy do that to him.”
“Not the Zhaff you know now, no. That was when I decided to risk taking him in myself. My best doctors claimed he had a particular concoction of social disorders afflicting him, and said that he would always suffer from dissociation. My genes don’t take kindly to being told something’s impossible. I decided to think of a way he could make use of his peculiar talents; a way he could realize his worth to the future of humanity.”
“The Cogent Initiative,” I said.
“Exactly. But I had no idea how proficient he would become. After only a few short years of focused training he could outfight my finest soldiers despite his size, and outthink my finest agents. I quickly sought out others like him to give them all a purpose. The bastards discarded by the USF because they bore a chronic disease.
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