by Dan Koboldt
He figured an opening bet wouldn’t hurt. “I’ll answer three.”
“You’ll answer as many as I ask.”
Well, it was worth a shot.
“Let’s start with an easy one. Why in the hell did Richard Holt make himself Valteroni Prime?”
“That’s your easy question?” Quinn laughed, and it hurt his lungs. “I have no idea. It caught everyone by surprise.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, and made the leap. “Went rogue, did he? He always did love this place.”
“Maybe a little too much.”
“I told you, this place gets to you.” She poked him again with the club.
“Ow!” I thought we were past the violent part of the interrogation.
“The company must be throwing a fit,” Relling mused. “Who’s in command?” She cocked her head as she asked this, as if favoring her right ear. Maybe she heard better out of it than the other, or maybe it was habit. Either way, it was a tell. This question wasn’t nearly as casual as she’d made it.
He’d danced around the issue so far. But naming names was a slippery road. Once he went down it, there was no path back to vague half-answers. He looked at her and said nothing.
“Are you sure you want the hard way?” Her fingers brushed the trigger on his belt shocker. “You don’t seem cut out for it.”
Logan would make her beat the truth out of him. And then he probably still wouldn’t say. But he was a trained soldier, and Quinn wasn’t even getting hazard pay. I overbet the pot and I don’t have the cards to win it.
All he could do now was fold with style. “I guess I’d have to say it’s you,” he said. “But the new and improved version.”
Her eyes lost their glint for a second. She’s surprised. Maybe she didn’t expect her relationship to Kiara to be public knowledge. Something else passed over her face, and he could have sworn it was pride. Then her predatory look returned. “Why are you spending so much time with the Pireans? You claimed you were Landorian.”
He tried to shrug, but his bonds prevented it. “I like them.”
“And Jillaine?”
“I like her, too.” He held her eyes and hoped she wouldn’t press this issue.
“I suppose it doesn’t hurt that she’s the daughter of one of the most influential council members.”
“She’s plenty influential on her own. But that’s not why I like her.”
“Why did you come to the Enclave?”
“I think that’s pretty obvious.”
“Enlighten me.”
He smiled crookedly. His lips were still swollen on one side. “I’m here to learn magic.”
“That’s not a mission objective.”
“Fine. Among other things, I was ordered to put up a comm antenna.”
“Where is it?”
“I haven’t put it up yet.”
She snorted. “Now who’s the traitor?”
“I guess I’m not comfortable with the company knowing where the Enclave is. That’s why I didn’t sell you out the second I got here.” A decision I’m starting to regret.
“How naive are you?”
“I’m not naive.”
She held up his comm unit. “Every comm unit has a beacon in it that pings on the company’s network. The master node has been triangulating your position since the moment you came here.”
Quinn’s insides turned to ice. “What master node?”
“The huge antenna outside the gateway cave.” She dropped his comm unit to the floor and stomped it with the heel of her boot. “Don’t know why I bother. It’s probably too late.”
She’s right. I’m a fool.
“What are the company’s plans for the Holt situation?” Relling asked.
“They’re handling it,” he mumbled.
“How?”
He shook his head, still not looking at her. “I’m not allowed to say.”
“This puts us in an awkward position, Quinn.”
He met her eyes and sneered. “Well, we wouldn’t want things to be awkward after you knocked me out twice and tied me to this chair. So I guess I’ll be on my way.”
“Oh, no. I can’t let you wander freely around the Enclave.”
“You’ve no right to keep me prisoner,” he said.
“And yet here we are.”
“Someone will notice that I’m missing. I’m Moric’s student.”
She smiled. “Last I heard, Moric was missing, too.”
A door banged open somewhere to the left. Lamplight flooded the room, and cast the shadow of a slim figure in sharp relief on the wall.
“He might be,” Jillaine said. “but his daughter is not.”
Quinn’s mouth fell open. Thank God.
Relling had jumped back against the far wall. But she still had the club, hidden behind her back. “This doesn’t concern you, Jillaine.”
“I’ll decide that for myself.” Jillaine saw Quinn and hurried forward. She touched the lump on his temple. “What have you done to him?”
“He’s not who he says he is.”
Jillaine held his eyes for a moment. “I’m aware of that.”
“In league with him, are you?” Relling stepped forward again. Her fingers flipped off the safety on the belt shocker.
“Jillaine, look—” he started.
Relling triggered the belt shocker. Jillaine shied back, but not far enough. The prongs caught her center mass. The shock hit her like a wave. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell down.
“You bitch!” Quinn shouted. He threw himself against his bindings, against his chair. Fought like an animal to get free and tear Relling apart. For all his struggling, however, all that happened was the ropes dug into his wrists and ankles until they bled.
Relling hit the retractor, and the prongs shot back into the belt buckle. “My compliments to the engineers. They’ve really outdone themselves.”
Quinn growled at her through clenched teeth. Red rage tinted his vision. Jillaine moaned and shifted on the floor. Thank God, at least she’s conscious. “Jillaine?”
“You do like her, don’t you?” Relling asked. She tossed his belt aside and retrieved her club from the chair. She patted it in her hand as she moved toward Jillaine. “Perhaps we’ve stumbled upon the right button to push.”
Quinn’s lip curled. “Let her be, or I swear to God, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Relling raised her eyebrows. “What will you do?”
He snarled wordlessly at her.
“I think you need a reminder of who’s in control here.” Relling kicked the chair aside and raised her club over Jillaine.
No, no, no, NO! Something snapped inside of Quinn. Heat poured into him like white-hot lava. Rage and power boiled together. They shook his body violently. He gave in to it, reached for it.
And power filled him.
He hurled it at Relling’s back. A shock wave slammed into her like a hammer, hurling her against the far wall. She slumped down into a heap. He focused on his bindings next. He felt an odd detachment to it all, though it was his fury that cut through them. The ropes burned to ash and fell away. He fell out of his chair beside Jillaine. Brushed back her hair. Whispered her name.
Her chest rose and fell, but she didn’t respond. The warmness of power coursed through his arms. He shaped it, and took the edge off the magic’s rage. He splayed his fingers out and touched them gently to the nape of her neck. Blue light glowed beneath his fingertips.
Jillaine’s eyes flickered open. She bolt upright, gasped, and clutched his arm.
He sagged in relief against her. The rage seeped out of him. The heat inside dissipated, but didn’t leave entirely. A little ball of warmth remained. He stood, and pulled Jillaine to her feet. Now that the anger had gone, fatigue settled in. He could barely hold himself upright while she stumbled over to check on Relling.
“Is she dead?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Unconscious,” Jillaine said. “What should we do with her?”
Logan would want me to interrogate her. But he probably didn’t have the stomach for that. “Whatever you want.” He turned and lumbered out the door.
He passed through torchlight, and saw the harbor. Whitecaps danced on the dark waters. The light came from a pair of bright-burning torches to either side of the door. The building itself was a stone structure, one story, with wooden boardwalks running left and right from where he stood. Three small cutters bobbed against the pylons right in front of him.
They weren’t chained up. He could jump into one right now, and be gone before sunup. But he didn’t know how to sail, and probably wouldn’t be able to find the mainland even if he did. Besides, that would mean abandoning Jillaine again, and there’d be no coming back from that.
So he stood there, rubbing his wrists. Trying to piece together what had happened.
Jillaine emerged a moment later, with her hair back in perfect order. She smiled faintly, and warmth purred inside him. She took his hand without a word and pulled him along the docks. A lighter gray tinged the distant horizon.
“How did you find me?” he asked.
“I followed her, after she hit you over the head.”
“You saw it happen?”
“From a distance.”
“And you didn’t think to intervene?”
She shrugged. “I can understand a woman wanting to club you.”
“Oh. My. Gods.”
“Settle down. I rescued you eventually.”
“I’m pretty sure I rescued you,” he said.
He could still feel the warm glow of magic inside him. It pulsed there, waiting to be called again. He stopped and held out his left hand, palm-up. He drew the magic, remembering Leward’s lesson and how it had felt on his hand. The warmth in him flowed outward, down his arm, across his open palm. A ball of fire formed above it, hissing and crackling like the Pirean hearth had. Quinn stared at it in awe. Can it really be so easy?
“Are you quite finished?” Jillaine asked.
He let the ball of flame dissipate, and sent the warmth away with a twinge of regret. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
She shook her head. “Men.”
Quinn’s head still spun with so many thoughts at once. He’d lost his comm unit, and his cover was blown. Worst of all, the company might soon find out where the Enclave really was. And now there were no Valteroni ships patrolling its waters. “Listen, you know how I promised I wouldn’t leave again without telling you?”
“It was without taking me, if I recall,” Jillaine said.
“Fine. Whatever.” He drew in a deep breath, and it hurt. Relling must have done a number on me. “I have to leave again. Will you come with me?”
She laughed. “Why would I do that?”
“You said you want to see the world.”
“I don’t need you for that.”
“Probably not.” He dug into his hidden jacket pocket and took out the parchmap. Thank God I always keep this on me. He unfolded it and held it up. “But I’ve got a pretty good map.”
She took the parchmap in both hands. Her eyes were like saucers. “Where did you get this?” She traced the Pirean shoreline with a fingertip. It was an order of magnitude more precise than the best map in the Enclave library.
“Sorry, that’s confidential.” He snatched it back, folded it up, and tucked it away.
She jabbed at him with an elbow. “Let me see it!”
He stopped and faced her. Time to lay it all out. “Come with me, and you can see it all you want.”
She looked down at the ground, chewing her lip. Then she met his eyes. “Something tells me I’m going to regret this.”
Chapter 41
Insurance
“We lose ourselves to our jobs the moment we stop putting people first.”
—R. Holt, “Investment in Alissia”
Logan hated the little ship’s muted silence. It was the seventh day sailing north from Valteron. Comms were still out. The entire southern relay network had gone down right after they escaped the bay. Kiara had gotten off a terse update just before they lost the hotlink to command.
Another network outage, and no way of knowing how much of the network was down. The fact that it came right after they’d secured Holt’s best piece of leverage couldn’t be a coincidence. It was either a Hail Mary pass to stop them, or part of some bigger plan.
And Holt was partial to the latter.
That was a long-term problem, though. The communication on the ship was no better. For one thing, the mood between Mendez and the lieutenant hadn’t improved. He was a good soldier, and still following orders, but he didn’t say a word more than necessary. He didn’t laugh at Logan’s jokes or offer any of his own.
He’s back to where he was after Thorisson. Worse, maybe. In a way, Logan could understand that. It was one thing to have to kill a man—you got trained for that. It was another to lose someone you cared about. No amount of training lessened that blow.
Logan was worried about him.
The lieutenant had the tiller, which meant Mendez was at the bow. Logan sidled up and leaned over the rail beside him. “You all right?”
Mendez stared off at the water, unblinking. “I’m good, sir.”
Logan grunted. He wasn’t good, but he was talking, and that was a real improvement over the last few days. “We had some tough missions before, but I think that one takes the cake. God, I’m getting too old for this.”
“Gods,” Mendez corrected. He never took his eyes from the water.
Logan forced a laugh. “She would want me to say that.”
“She would.”
“Remember that time she made us wear those codpieces?”
A hint of a smile. “The gala down in Caralis. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”
“You were blushing like a cheerleader on a third date.”
“There were two hundred people there, and we were the only ones wearing them.”
“You still kept it on all night.”
“I kind of liked the attention.”
They both chuckled, long and low. Logan sighed. When did we stop having fun in this place? It was well before Holt went AWOL. Sometime after losing the Victoria, the tone of the missions had changed. The lieutenant had changed. Mission success became far too important.
Maybe it’s time to hang up my spurs. Another mission or two, and he’d have banked enough hazard pay to last for a long time.
Kiara’s tablet chirped like a cricket. An Alissian field cricket, to be precise, which was smaller than the Earth version but somehow just as loud. All of their electronics had alerts and notifications based on natural sounds. Logan had them all memorized. Field cricket was the connection alert. It meant they were talking to Command again.
“What’s the latest?” Logan asked.
“Bradley’s comm unit went black.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“Maybe he forgot to charge it,” Logan said, though he didn’t buy it. Bradley loved his tech, and got to carry more solar panels than anyone else because of it.
“The only good news is that he got the long-range antenna up.”
“About damn time,” Logan said. He tried to put himself in Bradley’s shoes. What would he do if he lost his comm unit? “Maybe that’s his way of asking for a ride.”
Kiara went up to the bow for her full debrief. Command had her on the comm for nearly an hour, while Logan grew anxious. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but something about her posture put him on edge.
Finally, she came back, though her movements were stiff. “We’re ordered back to Bayport.”
“What about Bradley?”
“He’s back-burnered for now. We’ll send a team to the beacon as soon as we can.”
“Charlie Team could do it.” Logan and Mendez had started their training before the current mission pulled them away. They were all ex-special-forces, culled from the latest round of military recruiting. They’d be solid
.
“They’re meeting us in Bayport to help secure the asset.”
“They’re in-world already?” Logan asked.
“The executives green-lighted them the moment they got our mission success notification.”
It seemed a little redundant, but Logan figured reinforcements couldn’t hurt. They’d bring new batteries for the electronics, better food, fresh horses. “I hope they brought me a gelding this time.”
“You won’t need one. Once we’re in Bayport, I want you and Mendez on a coast-cutter headed south.”
“What for?”
“New orders. Now that Bradley’s neutralized Holt’s protection, the executives want the threat removed.”
“We already did remove the threat.” Logan pointed to the hidden compartment that held Holt’s backpack. “It’s right there.”
“Someone with Holt’s knowledge is too dangerous to remain in this world. The executives want him taken out.”
“Good for them.”
Mendez shook his head and spat over the rail. He stomped up to the bow and didn’t look back.
“Are you refusing your orders?” Kiara asked. Her tone was cold, devoid of any emotion.
Like a goddamn robot making an inquiry. “Damn right I’m refusing. I don’t do assassinations. I told you that when I signed on.”
“So you think we should just let Holt remain there, while he sabotages our infrastructure and bends an entire nation to his will?”
It might have been a fair point, except Logan knew the man, and had seen the changes in Valteron City. “He’s doing good things. He must know he’s vulnerable, now that we have the backpack. Come on, Lieutenant. That’s got to be enough.”
“Even if it were for me, it’s not enough for my superiors. Your orders stand.”
He shrugged. “Then I quit.” It was the easiest thing in the world. Sharon wouldn’t like the early retirement, but between his hazard pay and what they’d saved, they’d be all right.
“You’re under contract,” Kiara said.
“If CASE Global wants to sue me on breach of contract, that’s fine with me.” We both know they won’t. A legal proceeding would compel him to disclose things the company had no interest in making public.
She didn’t respond, but tapped something into her panel. A terse message. Two characters. N. O.