by Alex Kings
“Who's your contact with?”
“He's unaffiliated. Makes things easier.”
Dunn's console beeped. “We've got a response to our hail,” he said.
“Put him through,” ordered Hanson. “Transmit from the command console.”
“Yes, sir.”
Agatha sauntered back across the bridge to stand beside Hanson.
On one of the screens, a Petaur face appeared. His fur looked grimier than Yilva's, and was marked by a scar that ran down his cheek to his nose. The moment he saw Agatha, he broke into a wide grin. “Red! Hello! Haha – riding in on a nice, clean military frigate, and you're not in jail. What's happened, girl? Have you sold out?”
“Sold out?” Agatha replied. “Over my rotting cadaver. These guys are independent for the moment. Vance, this is Captain Hanson. Hanson, Vance.”
“Ha, how interesting. Captain Hanson. So what brings you here?”
Hanson let Agatha continue: “We want the usual. Safe berth. No awkward questions.”
“What my lady wants, my lady gets.” Vance looked away and tapped at some device offscreen. “Cryptcreds only. Sending you the co-ordinates now.”
“While we're here,” said Agatha, “Let's have a catch-up.”
“Sure, Red. I'll see you outside the berth.”
“Oh, and Vance?”
“Yeah?”
“Don't call me Red.”
Vance grinned again and vanished from the screen.
“Prat,” Agatha said under her breath.
“We've got the co-ordinates now, sir,” said Dunn.
“Take us in,” ordered Hanson. Then he asked Agatha, “Do you trust Vance?”
Agatha snorted. “No! This is the Afanc, captain. We don't trust. We pay him and we keep our guns close. That's how things work around here.”
The Dauntless flew in towards the berth. Around it, the Afanc swelled, the ancient ridges marking its skin becoming clear. They approached one of the mouths – this close, it was clear the smallest of the fangs was at least twice as big as the Dauntless itself – and flew inside, into a cavernous space. Along one side was a line of berths, cut into the flesh.
Smart-matter cables gripped the ship and held it steady while it settled in place. At last, a docking tube extended from the ship.
“Let's meet our new friend, then,” said Hanson. “Lanik, you have the deck.”
Chapter 18: Vance
Agatha and Srak knew the lay of the land. They would be indispensable. Agatha came fully kitted out with mismatched but high-end civilian armour, two pistols tucked in her belt and her carbine, Mr. Shooty, slung over her back.
Yilva met them as they were prepping to leave. “I want to come too. I might recognise something. Or … I might be able to help somehow.”
“Are you sure?” Hanson asked her, standing ready in his armour. “I can't guarantee we won't get into a firefight.”
“He's right,” rumbled Srak as he loaded his oversized handgun. “This ain't known for being a safe place.” He was the only one without armour.
“I'm sure,” said Yilva. “I want to help. I can't just sit around in the ship.”
Hanson considered this for a while. “Do you have armour?” he asked.
“Oh, uh …”
“I have some,” said Srak. “Smart matter, can fit any species.”
“Fine,” said Hanson. “Come along, but be careful.”
To his ground team – Moore and Saito – he said, “I want you to come out after us and wander about for a bit. As far as anyone else is concerned, you're not with us. Don't get involved in anything, but be ready. If we need backup, I'll call you in.” It was always helpful to have backup your enemies didn't expect.
Once Yilva had fitted Srak's smart-matter armour over her gown, Hanson's team headed out.
The docking tube exited onto a large tunnel with a chrome-plated floor and organic-looking walls. They followed it down to a door, and passed through.
They entered a large chamber with a high, ragged-looking ceiling. Immediately a dozen – at least a dozen – guns were pointed at them. Snipers waited on high platforms. Closer, a couple of Varanids and humans pointed assault rifles at them.
“Calm down, boys and girls!” said Vance, gesturing at the guards. “They're our honoured guests. For now, anyway – haha!”
The guns went down, save for a couple of snipers in the background, Hanson noticed.
Vance had a limp which stopped him scrambling in the way Petaurs usually did. “Red!” he said, opening his arms. “Good to see you at last! And you, Srak.” He patted Srak on the shoulder, then turned his attention to Hanson and Yilva. “And these are you friends?”
“Captain James Hanson,” said Hanson, offering his hand.
“Charmed, I'm sure,” said Vance in a high pitched voice. “Nice ship, Captain.”
“Well, thank you.”
Vance leaned in towards Yilva until they were a couple of inches apart and looked at her. She leaned back.
“Well, aren't you cute?” said Vance. “You indentured, petal?”
“Oh, um, yes,” said Yilva.
“Poor thing.”
“Oi, Vance,” said Agatha. “Stop being a pervert and let's get going.”
“Of course, of course.” Vance stood up straight and began to turn.
“Are you? Indentured?” Yilva asked him.
“Me? Oh, haha, I suppose so, technically. But here, no. I'm a free man.” Vance offered them a grin that seemed to have more of a snarl than a smile in it. “It's much more fun to be the boss than the servant. Now, come along, friends. Let's see you try to pump me for information.”
Tail bouncing back and forth, he led them across the chamber, through another set of doors into what seemed to be a bustling concourse. All species, even Tethyans floating in bubbles of water moved by effector fields, were represented here, talking, arguing, making deals. It stank of some mixture incorporating everything from sulphurous smoke to spices. Along one side, a fleshy wall rose up. On the other – about a hundred metres away – the metal platform ended and the organic floor dropped away like a cliff, giving a view of an immense open chamber. It had to be kilometres across at least. Far away, Hanson could see other platforms like the one they were standing on, but oriented at odd angles. Some were horizontal or even upside-down relative to this one, but with the gravity generators, the people on those platforms would feel nothing amiss.
Vance took them into a run-down looking bar off to the side and gestured to a row of seats. “Sit,” he said, settling down opposite them. “And talk to me.”
“First off,” said Hanson. “Is there any news? Anything unusual going on?”
“There's always something unusual going on round here,” said Vance.
Hanson dropped a hundred-credit slip on the table in front of them.
Vance smiled at him, and said to Agatha, “He catches on quickly, for a captain.” Then, speaking to Hanson, continued, “Yeah. There's was a bit of rough-and-tumble going on near Seventh Tentacle, if I recall.”
“Like what?”
“That's a very thin slip,” observed Vance.
Hanson sighed and threw another slip on the table. It went skating across the surface and stopped right in front of Vance.
Vance cocked his head. “That's two very thin slips.”
“Good observation,” said Hanson. He turned to his team. “Don't you think that was a good observation?”
“Oh, uh.” Yilva pointed at her face. “Yeah. Good eyes. My people have very good eyes.”
Agatha let out a tiny snort of laughter.
Vance cocked his head and said nothing.
“We don't have to deal with this guy, do we?” Hanson asked Agatha. “We've paid for the berth.”
Agatha shrugged. “Sure. We can find someone else.”
“Well then,” said Hanson, standing.
Vance snorted. “Good try.”
Hanson ignored him and, leading his team, started for the
door without looking back. They'd just left the bar when Vance, coming up behind them, spoke:
“Come now! Haha, we're all friends here, aren't we? Maybe my prices were a teensy-weensy bit high. I can see that. I'm a shrewd businessman, just as you clearly are.”
Hanson took another step away from the bar before coming to a halt. He turned back to Vance and spent a deliberate second looking him up and down as if trying to decide whether he was worth talking to. “Okay,” he said at last. “Let's try again.”
They returned to the table, which was now clear of credit slips. Vance had already started speaking: “Seventh Tentacle. Two or three days ago. Big, big event.”
“What happened?”
“Human in fancy armour killed three Albascene from Unity. When they finally took him down, he exploded.”
Something inside Hanson went cold. But he continued: “I get the impression that murder isn't that much of a special event around here.”
Vance rolled his eyes. “Politics, not death. That, my friend, is why it's so special! Unity are pissed. They think it was Sweetblade's doing – they're the only big gang with human members. Sweetblade says they had nothing to do with it. They blame the Shrikes – the Glaber hive – for trying to set them up. And that the Albascene who died were poking around somewhere they shouldn't have been.”
“So, what, we're on the brink of a gang war?”
“Maybe so, my friend, maybe so.”
“Wonderful.” Hanson sighed.
“Could be fun,” said Agatha. She saw the look Hanson gave her. “What?”
Hanson spoke to Vance again. “Okay, Seventh Tentacle. Got any names we could talk to.”
Vance seemed to think about this. “Averrin Bloodtooth,” he said at last. “Unity member close to the action. He knows who what happened, and he's easier to talk to than the rest.”
Agatha laughed loudly. “Guy calls himself Bloodtooth? Seriously?” She shook her head, still giggling. “Bet he takes he job seriously.”
Vance shrugged. “What can I say, Red. They're passionate people – haha!”
“I think that's it, then.” Hanson took out another credit slip and dropped it on the table in front of Vance. “Just for being good sport.”
“Oh, thank you! Hah! But come back if you need anything else. You too, Red – Don't be a stranger!”
“Yeah, bye, Vance,” said Agatha.
“And you, petal, you can come visit whenever you like.” Vance grinned at Yilva, who gave a tiny, awkward smile, then looked away.
Hanson led them out of the bar and onto the main platform. “I hope you know where Seventh Tentacle is,” he said.
“I do. Transport pod's this way.”
Chapter 19: Seventh Tentacle
The transport pod was smaller and noisier than the ones in Tethya. It seemed like an older design, probably salvaged at some point. It rattled on its rail, weaving through internal cavities and through tunnels dug into the mummified, rock-solid flesh of the Afanc, passing through occasional regions of microgravity.
Hanson activated his comms. “Still with us, sergeant?”
“Yes, sir. Just been looking through some of the things they have in the markets here. They're pretty messed up.”
“I'm not surprised. We're on the move – Seventh Tentacle. The transport pod number is 7T 531. Follow us in ten minutes or so.”
“Yes, sir,” said Moore. Then, in a muffled voice as she was speaking away from the comm, “What the hell is that?” And finally, “Sorry, sir. Moore out.” The comm cut off.
Outside, the pod passed some structures that looked like stalactites or green yellow ochre.
Yilva stared at them as they passed. “This thing is fascinating. Do you think there are any living versions out there? A million years … the species might still be around.”
Hanson turned to Yilva. “Do you think this is the place you escaped from?”
She shook her head. “Oh, uh, no. I never saw anything like this. It wasn't organic. My room was on a normal space station or ship. And the Ancient ship was different too. Different material. Like obsidian.”
“That's another thing that's worrying me,” said Hanson. “We started out looking for someone investigating Ancient technology. Now we're chasing stasis pods. They must be connected. One of these mysterious exploding soldiers was on Vane after you. But whatever that connection is, I don't see it.”
Agatha shrugged. “Relax. We'll find it.”
The transport pod stopped near another platform. Here the ceiling was lower, without a view into any of the larger cavities. Near the edges, holes in the wall led away like caves, some open, some blocked by doors.
A lot of Glaber milled about on the platform here. Perhaps they were close to a Shrike stronghold. That made sense if the stasis pods were stored near here.
But they were surrounded by Shrikes. “We'll have to be careful,” he said softly. “Try and keep a low profile.”
Beside him, Agatha had already leapt out of the transport pod. She went up to a human dressed in a long coat. “Hey, you. Yeah, you. You know there's an Albascene who calls himself Bloodtooth around here?” Mentioning the name made her laugh again.
“Oh, bloody hell,” Hanson whispered under his breath.
The human who Agatha had accosted looked down at her. “There,” he said, pointing. “Have fun.” Having said this, he swept past her, annoyed at the delay.
“Someone got on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” said Agatha. She stuck her tongue out at the man's back.
Hanson came up to her. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he hissed.
Agatha grinned at him. “Oh, come on. Bloodtooth. Everyone's gonna know that name. I got directions, didn't I?”
“I said keep a low profile. Directions aren't any help if the Shrikes come in and kill us all.”
“Let them try.” She waved a hand dismissively. “You hired me to help you find your way around this place. That's what I'm doing. Come on.” She moved ahead.
Srak came up beside Hanson. “It's fine,” he said. “You'll get used to it.” He gave a deep, rumbling laugh.
Hanson followed, shaking his head.
Amongst the various stalls lining the end of the platform there was, by the look of it, a weapons shop. Behind it an Albascene hovered. Its environment suit was similar to the weaponised suits of the Albascene security Hanson had seen on Tethya, but inscribed with more angular designs.
“Have that. Have that. That's crap,” murmured Srak, eyes flicking from one piece of display merchandise to the next.
“Remember that one?” said Agatha. “Useless.”
Hanson was glad they were still out of earshot. “You said Unity Albascene like respect, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Keep quiet on this one, then. Both of you.”
Agatha seemed to be about to say something, then thought better of it and shrugged.
They walked into the weapon shop. When the Albascene saw them, it floated towards the counter opposite. “Hello, customers. We have armaments available for all your species.”
Hanson greeted it, then said, “May I ask if you are Averrin Bloodtooth?”
The Albascene's suit segments twisted slightly. “Yes,” it said. “I am. You may refer to me as Bloodtooth. From where did you get get that name?”
“I can't betray that confidence,” said Hanson. “I'm Captain James Hanson. I would like to know about the incident that happened here a couple of days ago. I heard a human murdered several Albascene.”
Bloodtooth was silent for several seconds. “A repellent and unjustified act of cowardice,” it said, without losing the usual calm Albascene tone. “An attempt to destabilise the order of the Afanc, which, imperfect though it may be, is order nonetheless. Those murdered Albascene were doing nothing inappropriate. All those complicit will be brought to justice.”
“I suspect you may be right,” said Hanson. “That's why I'm asking. I want to track down the people behind it.”
“More likely, you are all from the criminal gang Sweetblade,” said Bloodtooth. “It contains the worst of humans, Varanids and Petaurs. And here I see representatives of each. Perhaps you seek to discredit this issue.”
Hanson shook his head. “If Sweetblade were responsible for this, and if I were from Sweetblade, why would I need to know about it?”
Bloodtooth was silent again. His segments buzzed slightly as they moved back and forth.
“The human, I understand, had an explosive in his suit that activated when he died,” continued Hanson.
“To destroy the evidence associated with the crime,” said Bloodtooth. “It is … a level of self-sacrifice I would not expect from a human.” Its top segment moved as if observing them all. “What do you wish to know?”
“Where were your associates investigating when the human attacked?”
“Tunnel 12-9. It is usually occupied and guarded by independent Glaber, but has an alternate access route. That does not mean that they were acting inappropriately.”
“Of course not,” said Hanson. “Could you tell us the alternate route?”
“Tunnel 12-8. In the second chamber, there is a fault as the edge of the floor panel. You can go underneath it, to an area of zero gravity, and through a crack in the flesh to the location of the fight.”
“Thank you for your help, Bloodtooth. If we learn anything that might be of use, we'll tell you.”
“And if you die, I will not mourn you. It will be your own fault.”
“Of course.”
“Would you like weapons to guard against the possibility?”
“I appreciate the offer,” said Hanson, “But we brought our own. Thank you again.”
Outside, Srak said, “Well, he seemed nice.”
“Bloodtooth!” said Agatha, and laughed again. “Wannabe-badass, so Unity have him fundraising!”
They checked the tunnels lining the walls of the chamber. Each was labelled with Isk numerals. There was 12-9, blocked by a door with several Glaber milling about outside. Next to it, 12-8 was open. Hanson led them in.