Assassin

by Kacey Ezell

  “Death?”

  Connor’s voice. Ragged and hoarse, but low enough to cut through the tinnitus and Susa’s quiet sobs. Death squinted her eyes open and looked at him, battered, bloody, wearing a strange smile that didn’t touch his eyes.

  “Susa?”

  “I’m here,” the woman said, her voice wet. She reached under her shirt and removed the fourth kitten, who still squirmed weakly, and put it back with its living siblings. The lost one she gently took from Death’s fingerpads. “We lost one.”

  “Oh…Death, Doctor Aloh, I’m so sorry.”

  “Bubba died too,” Death said, her words almost angry in her grief. “He was trapped in the truck when we wrecked, and then he blew it up to save us.”

  “That sounds like him,” Conason’s voice was sad as he limped up beside his fellow merc. He, too, was missing his CASPer. Death idly wondered if it was the one they hunkered beside. “He was a good man and will be missed. I’m so sorry about your baby.”

  “More than your man?” Death asked, because she had to know.

  “He was a man. And more, he was a merc. He died doing his job. That’s what we do. Now come on. Tony, lift them up. The cavalry’s here. I knew the home office would send a detachment as soon as the Headquarters building came down. They tracked our CASPers, and now they’re here. So, come this way, and we’ll get you on a plane to Kazakhstan.”

  * * *

  “There’s another ship incoming quickly,” Rurranach said, reading the display that scrolled across the view screen. He didn’t need to say it, as the ship’s external sensors had transmitted the same information directly to Deluge through his pinplant link, but his subdued voice served to cut through the shocked silence that permeated the cabin.

  “It’s not registered to Khatash,” Deluge said. “No quintessential transponder, so it’s not a Hunter ship…but the only people who call me Del are family.”

  “Del. I know you’re there. It’s Flame. Please tell me my readout is wrong, and the Governor’s ship is somewhere out here.”

  “Could it be a trick?” Rurranach asked.

  “It could,” Deluge said, his voice tight. The voice sounded enough like Flame’s to be legitimate, but there was enough electronic distortion that it could have been faked as well.

  “Do you have any more of those ship-killers?”

  “No. Usually, the drill is kill one ship, and if there are more, then turn and run.”

  “Maybe we should do that, then?” the Sidar said.

  “But what if it really is Flame?”

  “Give her a test.”

  “What?”

  “Ask her a question only she would know. Something that can’t be faked. Maybe something that happened just between the two of you?”

  Deluge thought about it for a moment, his brain swirling. How had Flame come to be here of all places? And what was this about a governor?

  “Unidentified ship,” he said, transmitting slowly. “If you are who you claim to be, please authenticate with the full Human name of our molly.”

  “Dr. Susan Aloh.” Even thinned by the interference, frustration colored her tone. “She’s from Texas, on Earth. You threw blood on me after our first hunt, and I covered you in intestines later that night. You took my last contract and better have completed it. I still owe you for throwing me on the table in the den. If you shoot my ship, I will strangle you with your own intestines.”

  “Well, hi, littlest!” Deluge said, slow blinking. “What brings you to this wasteland of space ghosts?”

  As he spoke, Deluge was busy continuing to maneuver through the bits of metal. This close to the derelict hulk, most of the debris was small enough that he could take it on the shield, but a few of the larger pieces had to be avoided.

  “We are chasing the former Cemarap Governor. Did you blow her up or is she in that debris field?” Her voice sounded intense, shaded by shock and joy, but very focused on his answer.

  “I don’t know anything about a governor. The only ship out here besides mine and yours was carrying registry from home and came up as belonging to a clan called Whispering Fear. You know about the interdict, right? I was attacked while on contract. That’s why I came here.”

  “I know.” Three breaths worth of a pause. “They blew up our den. Where’s the ship?”

  “You’re in its debris field,” Deluge said, allowing exultant joy into his tone. “I wasn’t going to let them come at me first. I took them out with my defensive armament. All that’s left is the dust burning off our energy shields.”

  “Fuck.” Her curse was low and vicious. “She’s behind what happened with Dama and the Peacemaker. We’ve been tracing her blasted trail for a season and then chasing her for the past three days and now…Del, you’ve ruined everything!”

  “Me? What was I supposed to do? Let her shoot me out of the sky? You weren’t there on ‘Tlor, Flame! The Hunter who attacked me hired a Goka mercenary company to help her get to me! Dama taught us to survive! How was I to know that you were chasing after some overgrown paramecium in a ship that had Hunter registry?”

  “Children.”

  The voice that cut through their rapidly escalating argument made Deluge go very still. Apparently, there was someone else out here in the black.

  “I am certain I did not teach you to argue in public on an open communications channel. Neither one of you has the full story. Bring your ships in to dock, and I will fill you in.”

  “Dama…?” Flame’s voice on the channel was barely a whisper as the hulk next to them suddenly came alive with lights leading to a docking entrance. “You’re…”

  “Not dead,” Deluge said, and because he couldn’t resist, he added smugly, “I knew it the whole time.”

  * * *

  Deluge knew he was smirking—he couldn’t help it—as vindication surged through him, nearly ruffling his fur. Reow was alive, and more, she was here! His plan had worked, and now he and Flame would know the reason why everything had happened the way that it did.

  What a fun contract this had turned out to be!

  “Master,” Rurranach said lowly from his seat next to Deluge’s.

  “Who?”

  “Ugh. Del,” Rurranach corrected himself, sighing. “It just feels wrong to call you by name!”

  “Get used to it. You were, before. Did you want something?”

  “Yes,” the Sidar said, rustling his wings. Deluge looked over at him, surprised to find that Rurranach lacked any trace of glee in his demeanor. “Have you considered, Del, that this, too, may be a trap?”

  “What do you mean?” Deluge asked, some of his glee draining away. “How could it be a trap?”

  “How could it not be?” Rurranach countered. “We’re out here in the middle of an ancient floating debris field. Two ships show up, racing at us, one with Hunter registry—”

  “And I blew that one up.”

  “And so you did. But then the other appears to carry your sister, and now your mother’s voice comes across the transmission channel? Doesn’t it appear just too convenient to you?”

  “You’ve got a nasty, suspicious mind, Rurranach,” Deluge said, slow blinking as his good mood returned.

  “I do. It’s why I’m still alive.”

  “Fair point. Okay, I don’t think this is a trap, because, remember, we were tracking Dama’s quintessence field out here in the first place. So that’s two independent indications that she’s really here. One, her field and two, her voice.”

  “But it doesn’t make any sense!” Rurranach protested, shuffling his wings again. “Why would she be out here in this forsaken waste?”

  “We’ll be sure to ask her,” Deluge said, slow blinking a laugh again. He jerked his head toward the display screen, currently carrying the visual feed from the ship’s external sensors. “It’s our turn to dock.”

  Since Flame’s ship had the best approach vector to the derelict hulk that turned out to not be derelict at all, she’d docked first. In the meantime, Deluge
maneuvered Iora around and got her headed in the correct direction as well. It had taken a small amount of time, but now they were closing in and ready to begin docking procedures. He gave the docking command through his pinplants, and the agile little ship moved smoothly to obey.

  * * *

  Tamir rocked up on her toes and back to settle her center of gravity, and Flame watched her with interest. The bounty hunter’s restless energy ramped up when they realized they were flying through the miniscule specks left of Kelket, and had only increased while they docked. She fairly vibrated, waiting for the airlock to finish matching their pressure.

  “We’re not getting attacked,” the Hunter said, amused. “Dama’s alive! And Hrusha. This is good news.”

  “Is it?” Tamir did not reach for her gun, but twisted her wrists, loosening the joints as though in preparation.

  “Did you secretly have a falling out with Hrusha that you hadn’t mentioned?”

  “What? No.”

  “Then it’s good news.” Still, Tamir’s tension affected her excitement, and Flame’s ears swiveled, trying to pick up anything on the other side of the airlock. Reassuring both herself and her partner, Flame stretched out her claws, demonstrating she was ready, if something unexpected waited for them.

  “Besides,” the Hunter added, tone brightening considerably, “if it is some kind of trap, Del is docking nearby. He’s better than me in a brawl.” She shared that without embarrassment—Flame knew, straight through her core, exactly the measure of her strengths, so it offered no threat to recognize where others excelled.

  The airlock finally clunked, singing out its odd medley, and Flame paused before opening the lock. Tamir wasn’t convinced, so she offered what she could.

  “If no one is out there, we’ll wait for Del and whoever is with him before we go any further into this.”

  Tamir frowned, doubtful, but as ever she didn’t hesitate. Settling into her calm, alert stance, she nodded.

  Flame toggled the switch, and the airlock door irised open.

  Reow awaited on the far side, another Hunter behind her.

  “My kita,” she murmured. “I greet you with love and so very much pride.”

  “Dama.” Flame shuddered from the tips of her ears down through her tail. With the briefest of glances up to Tamir—she hoped it communicated ‘told you so’ clearly, she stepped slowly into the hall. It took every bit of control she had, not to throw herself against her dama. Had it been only Tamir to witness, she would have.

  “Dama, Peacemaker Hrusha. I greet you.” Keeping her tone steady used all the discipline she had left, and she kept moving until she could finally, finally rub the top of her head under her dama’s chin.

  Reow closed her eyes and leaned into the caress, turning her head so as to rub her own cheek against her smallest child’s skull.

  “I had no idea,” Dama murmured, her voice low and sad, pitched for Flame’s ears alone. “I never imagined they would go so far as to interdict all of us. I knew you would likely survive, but I have so feared for you and your siblings. Does everyone live?”

  “I don’t know.” That admission hurt far worse than complimenting another’s skills ever could, stabbing through her with every regret she had of not finding her siblings. “They all survived the initial attack on the Den. I couldn’t look for them, though, and risk drawing attention.”

  Reow pressed harder against her kita for one more breath, and then lifted her head. “Peacemaker Hrusha, this is my youngest kita, Silent Flame.”

  Flame stepped back from her dama, the motion screaming her unwillingness to do so, and looked up at the Peacemaker.

  Hrusha flicked her ears politely at Flame, then turned to regard Tamir closely. Tamir, who blinked at her in stunned silence. The Peacemaker tilted her head, huffed a small laugh.

  “You are amused, my friend?” Reow asked. “This is your Human bounty hunter, is it not? The one you sent to my Den under the pretext of finding me, when you knew I was already gone?”

  “I am understanding why you sigiled one of them,” Hrusha said, and Flame stiffened slightly. Would Hrusha claim Tamir? “She always did good work, this one, but this has exceeded my expectations.” There was something more than pleased in her tone—smugness? Flame wondered at it, and subtly put herself between Tamir and Hrusha. Not a challenge, but if there was a claim here, Flame wanted it.

  The warning chime sang out again, and a sliding hiss heralded the arrival of the second ship. The airlock door had only irised halfway open before an orange figure dived through, landing in a roll and coming up on his back feet with a grand flourish. Behind him, in quiet contrast to these dramatics, a cloaked Sidar stepped into the ever-more crowded corridor.

  “I knew it all along!” Choking Deluge cried, his glee ringing through his words and rippling out from him in near-palpable waves.

  “How?” Reow asked, her tone calm and dry with just a touch of amusement. “How did you know?”

  “Iora!” Deluge exclaimed, nearly shouting in his excitement at having solved the puzzle she’d set for him. “She still carried your quintessence signature. That’s why you let me take her! So one of us, at least, would know that you still lived, even when the whole Galaxy thought otherwise!”

  “Clever Kit,” Reow said, slow blinking. “Well done. I am very proud of you.”

  Deluge let out a loud, victorious yowl, and launched himself at his dama, not caring about the presence of strangers. He needed to press against her, and feel her love and warmth and approbation.

  Behind him, the Sidar remained very still, except to pull out a chain from around his neck and let its pendant sit above his cloak. It caught the light in the hallway and glinted at Flame. It was the sigil of their clan.

  Flame turned her head, examining the Sidar silently as Del made his usual Del show. She was glad to see her brother, but fully distracted by his companion.

  “You made a friend,” she said, using the Human phrase naturally. It wasn’t the most pressing issue, but it mattered to her, all at once. That they would have their clan back. That sigils could be given. Because their clan would exist.

  “I did,” Deluge said, backing up from his enthusiastic rubbing against Reow’s cheek. “Everyone, meet Rurranach. He’s a Sidar and a money genius and just the right amount of unscrupulous. Rurranach, meet our dama, and my sister-kita Silent Flame, and…her friend…and…oh! Hello Peacemaker! I, Choking Deluge of the Night Wind Clan greet you. I’m glad to see you looking so alive.”

  Rurranach stepped forward under this effusive introduction and bowed in the manner of his kind. That is to say, he swept his cloak off and bent at the waist, extending his wings out to either side, showing off their impressive span as best he could in the narrow hallway.

  “I greet you, Dama,” he said simply, his chittering tone high with what was probably nerves.

  “Welcome to our clan, Rurranach,” Reow said, slow blinking at the Sidar. “I look forward to getting to know your unique skills in our service.”

  Flame glanced at Tamir, but resolved to revisit the matter later. She looked over this group, studying Hrusha in particular, and finally asked the question she’d been obsessed with since hearing Reow’s voice over the comms.

  “What, happened?”

  “Perhaps we should make ourselves comfortable?” Hrusha said by way of answer, flicking her ears to gesture down the corridor.

  “Yes,” Reow said. “Our sitting room is this way.”

  She turned and began walking past the airlock doors. At the end of the corridor, she turned left and headed into a low, comfortable room with the dim, green-tinged lighting reminiscent of Khatash. Chairs, cushions, pedestals, and other various seating surfaces clustered in conversational groups throughout the space. There was even a small pool in the center, something suitable for an elderly Cemarap who wished to relax, perhaps.

  Deluge watched the others follow his dama and hung back to enter beside Flame.

  “Hello, Littlest,” he sai
d, rather more quietly than earlier. “This ought to be interesting, no? You’re all right?”

  “Happy to see you,” Flame answered, brushing her shoulder into his arm fondly. “And ready to understand…all of this.” She nodded ahead, gladder than she could express to have her littermate there. It made the absences of Death and Blade cut deeper, but she had Reow, and Del, and Tamir, and had to believe the rest would follow.

  She nudged her brother-kit again and followed the rest, meaning to observe this odd space around them, but eyes drifting back to her dama instead. As everyone settled themselves, Flame tore her gaze to Hrusha, her want to know vibrating through the room.

  “Where should I begin?” Hrusha asked, turning slightly toward Reow.

  “Perhaps with the late Governor,” Reow said. “What you told me when I arrived.”

  “I have known Sissisk since we were barely grown kits, new to the jungle.” Hrusha sat back in her cushion, tail curled around her. The tip flicked once, then stilled. “She became friends with Kelket years ago, soon after Sissisk discovered pinpecks. Last year, Sissisk mentioned a falling out she’d had with Kelket. Our Cemarap friend had invested in a number of merc companies, and didn’t care for how quickly the newest mercenary species was gaining ground.” Her tail flicked again, ears briefly flattening.

  “Sissisk mocked her, as would any of us who know the value of competition. They did not talk for months, until Kelket left her an enormous gift of pinpecks. Sissisk took it as an apology, and then died a ninenight later.”

  “Was there reason to link these events? I had not heard any rumblings of foul play connected with the late Governor’s death,” Rurranach said from his cushion in the corner. He sat with his wings tucked close, swaddled once more in his great cloak.

  Deluge slow blinked at his friend, then turned to Reow.

  “See, Dama. I told you he was a genius.”

  “I never doubted, my kit,” she said, then flicked her eyes at Flame as well. “I never doubted any of you.”