by Frank Carey
The crowd oohed in appreciation and awe.
Nayla snorted. "I guess they forgot my people used to breathe fire."
"So, what did you find out?"
"Nothing and neither have the others. There's no chatter. It's as if nothing has happened. I even talked to some of my conspiracy theory friends and got only blank stares. Sir, I have never seen an operation as tight as this one seems to be."
"Damn. I hope Losi and Lucien are having a better time of it."
The keep plopped a comm unit down on the bar in front of Royce. "Call for you, General."
"Thanks." He picked up the handset. "Go for Aymar..." He listened for a moment. "Got it. Out." He put the handset back, killing the connection. "That was Mira Pereara's assistant. She wants to meet with me in her quarters in half an hour."
"Why would she be here? She's not a VIP since her divorce, so how did she get berthing here?"
"The divorce isn't final yet, something about Councilmember Pereara refusing to sign the papers. Anyway, I want you with me. The assistant sounded odd."
"Do you want me to call the rest of the team?"
"No. Just let them continue to shake their respective trees."
"Another round, General?" the keep asked as he put the comm unit away.
"Major?"
"Sir, are you trying to get me drunk?"
"Since when did a little ethanol affect a Sokuhl?"
She nodded. "Why not? It'll give the boys something to talk about."
"Amen! Two more Farts, Keep!"
The crowd applauded.
Royce and Nayla exited the lift on the VIP level. There were four members of HQ security flanking the lift entrance. Royce showed them his right sleeve where his holographic ID resided. One of the guards scanned it, then saluted when she saw the results. "General!" The Guard did the same to Nayla. "We're here to see Mira Pereara. She's expecting us."
"This way, General."
When they reached the door to Lady Pereara's apartment, the guard rapped the door in a complex staccato. He stepped back as the door opened and an elf stuck his head out.
"General Aymar and Major Hardy to see Lady Pereara."
"This way." He led them inside.
"Royce! Thank God you're here," an older elf woman called out as she walked into the foyer.
"Mira, this is my second, Major Hardy. What the hell is going on?"
"Someone tried to kill me on Ventos Prime. I barely escaped with my life, so I'm heading to Earth to hide out."
"Someone tried to kill you?"
"Yes, sir," the elf who let them in said. "Samuel, sir."
"Explain this to me, Samuel."
"Night before last, we had an intruder at the residence. This person stunned our safety contingent before coming into the Lady's room and shooting-up the bed."
Royce looked over at Mira. "Bad aim?"
She gave him a sideways smile. "Nooo. I was in another room with a friend. He unexpectedly stayed the night."
"When the assassin finished, he ran out of the residence into the night," Samuel recounted. "I called the police, but they couldn't find any trace of the perp except for the bullet-riddled bed."
"What about your friend?"
"He left before the police arrived," Mira explained.
"Did the perp check to make sure his target was dead?"
"There was no evidence he did any more than shoot and leave."
Royce looked at Nayla who shook her head. "Sir, milady, that makes no sense. Anyone who could get past your security contingent would check to make sure you were dead. It's SOP for an assassin."
"Mira, when were you planning to leave for Earth?" Royce asked.
"Tomorrow. We're waiting for a charter..."
"Cancel it. We'll take you aboard the Lenora."
"Royce, I couldn't impose upon you and your team."
"Don't be silly, Mira. I insist. We can leave as soon as I recall my people."
"ETA, twenty minutes, General," Nayla said as she got off the comm with the rest of the team.
"See? We have plenty of room and Lucien insists on our larder being filled with fine food."
"You wouldn't have some of those scones of his, would you?"
"A whole case."
"Samuel! Pack this circus up," she yelled to her assistant as she held out her arm for Royce to take. "I will see you at the Lenora."
As Royce walked her out, he noticed Nayla giving him the eye roll as she followed behind the two.
He smiled back in agreement.
Chapter 10 - Royce on Earth
Royce read Lucien's preliminary report and shook his head. "How the hell does he do it?" he asked aloud.
"Who, sir?" Nayla asked as she set a tankard of water down in front of him.
"Lucien, your prince and my brother-in-law." He handed the report to Nayla.
"He did all this before he landed?"
"Yeah, him and his kids. His sister is flying the damn bus. Do you know how long it took me to get a pilot's license?"
"Sir, she is over twenty years old physically."
"That is a third younger than what I was. Damn, kids nowadays."
"Yes, sir."
"Finally," Samuel said as he plopped down in a seat at the table, then he remembered where his was. "Forgive me, General..."
Royce nodded to Nayla to get Samuel a drink. "Relax, Samuel. Remember, you're not in the military, and I'm not a prince."
"Why is that, sir?"
"I've been in the military all my adult life and 'prince' doesn't fit in the chain of command. So, is Mira finally asleep?"
Nayla handed Samuel a large mug, which he drank deeply from. "This is delicious. What is it?"
"Earl Grey tea from Earth. The Prince is addicted to it."
"I can see why. Yes, General, Mira is finally asleep. She was exhausted, the poor thing."
"Samuel, may I ask you a question?" Royce asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Why has the divorce stalled? I ask because Mira is a dear friend of mine, and I'm concerned."
"I guess it's OK since you’re her friend. The Councilman refused to sign the paperwork when he found out about the financial disclosure statements he had to sign."
"I don't understand," Nayla said. "Those are standard under Ventosian law. He should have known about them from the outset."
"Nayla is licensed to practice law on Ventos Prime, Earth, and Sokuhl," Royce informed Samuel.
Nayla smiled.
Samuel smiled back, then saw the other members of Team Eight playing darts. "I thought it was virtually impossible to play darts aboard a small vessel in other-space due to micro variations in the FTL field."
"Not impossible," Royce said, "just very difficult. Do you play?"
"Yes, it is one of my passions."
"Letain!" Royce called out.
"Sir!"
"Do you have room for another player?"
"Of course, sir."
Royce swept his hand toward the group.
"Thank you, General." Samuel got up and walked over to the group while Nayla and Royce watched.
"Sir, how long have you known Mira and the Councilman?" Nayla asked.
"Since Losira and I were bonded, though the Irithyls and the Perearas go way back. I heard the two families were friends back when they were aristocrats on Earth during the days of Atlantis."
"Damn, sir. That's what, a hundred centuries?"
"Give or take. The two families supposedly appear on one another's crests, though I've never seen either of them. The crest thing fell out of favor centuries ago. If you want, Lucien can talk your ear off about it. He and his adoptive sister, Tannith, are real history buffs."
"I've never had the pleasure of meeting the Prince. What's he like?"
"Absolutely, positively, devoted to his wife, his kids, Ventos Prime, and the League in that order."
"With all due respect, sir, that trait seems to run in your families. Didn't you die saving the Queen?"
"Have
you been reading my books again?"
"Of course, sir. I loved the part where you faced down three heavily armed terrorists with only two knives and your tail."
"You do know that's fiction, don't you?"
"Is it, really?"
"Now, what do think of all this, so far?"
"May I be blunt, sir?"
"You're not normally blunt, Major?"
"No, sir."
"Then blunt away."
"Yes, sir. With all due respect, could the councilman be behind the hit attempt?"
Royce sat back in his seat and pondered the question. "I was thinking the same thing. Let's assume he did contract out for a hit on his wife."
"OK. I assume he's loaded."
"Oh yeah."
"So, why hire an inept assassin?"
"To scare her? Is there anything in Ventosian law which gets him off the hook for a financial ass-reaming?"
Nayla thought for a moment, then shook her head. "The only way for him to avoid it completely is if she drops the petition. Ventosian marriages are designed to last the lives of the bond mates. Now, in the case of you and the Queen, divorce can only occur when a sharp blade meets your neck, at least while she occupies the throne."
"And after? Let's say when she retires?"
"Under those conditions, you and she have to duke it out in the arena with weapons of your choice."
"That explains a great deal. Thank you for the images you just burned into my brain."
"You're welcome, sir."
"I've a bad feeling about this assassination attempt, especially in light of what is happening on Earth in Australia. I think we'll stick around here and keep an eye on the good lady and her entourage."
"Sir, what about General McMurphy and the weapons system?"
"Lucien and Team One are on it. I'll let Sana know we're available to assist. Nayla, are your people superstitious?"
"No. We believe that there is a reason for everything. The human, Occam, is highly revered amongst the Sokuhl."
"Well, my people are very superstitious, especially when it comes to things like retribution and redemption."
"As when the Prince had his death vision."
"Exactly. We are particularly fond of demons. Ever hear of Lotor?" he asked, while rubbing the back of his right wrist with his left hand. She watched, then frowned.
"Warning spell," he explained when he saw her look.
Up went one eyebrow. "No, I have not heard the name before. Who or what does it refer to?"
"A deliverer of comeuppance to the elven aristocracy. Elves hold their royalty to a higher standard, and Lotor is supposed to keep them in check."
"And if they get out of line?"
Royce drew a finger across his neck. "I'm thinking it may be time for a little Lotor action considering the state some of the aristocracy is in."
"The elven people have some odd myths."
"Not so much a myth. Lotor's sword, Requiem, is on display in the Ventosian Museum of Antiquities. It dates back to when we colonized Ventos Prime."
"Really?"
"Yes. Oddly, it was manufactured using an unknown process which bonded a monomolecular thread to the adamantine blade. It was able to effortlessly slice through a foot-thick chrome steel bar with a single cut."
"So, this Lotor exists?"
"His sword does as does the DNA of his victims."
Nayla's hair rose from her scalp, a leftover from the days when the Sokuhl made use of threat displays to establish dominance. Now, it was something to be smoothed down before your commanding officer noticed.
"Are you sure your people aren't superstitious?"
"Yes, sir, quite sure."
"Right." Royce looked over at the dart game. "Damn, I think Samuel is winning."
"This I have to see. If you'll excuse me sir, I can't pass up a worthy opponent."
"By all means, Major."
She got up and walked over to the tournament while Royce returned to studying Lucien's report.
The Lenora landed outside Lady Pereara’s residence--all Ventosian off-world residences have landing areas nearby--without incident. Before she was allowed to leave the shuttle, Nayla and her team made a quick, but thorough search of the building and grounds.
"Clear, sir," Nayla told Royce as the other members of Team Eight took up defensive positions on the roof and flanking the front door. "Deploy the suits, sir?"
"Aye. I suggest one inside, one on the roof, and one front and back."
"Suits?"
"The newest model of armored power suits from Elvin Industries. A Marine can wear it, use it as a telepresence unit, or set it as an automated sentry."
"Did your sister come up with this?" Mira asked.
"Yep. The blond genius did it again."
"You must be very proud of her."
"Proud, scared, and intimidated. Gloria is a force of nature."
Royce, Mira, and Samuel entered the building with Nayla leading the way. Once inside, Samuel went upstairs to unpack. "Mira, I would like to talk to the staff. Where are they?"
"Oh dear, I forgot to arrange for staff. Samuel can do it, but no one will be here until tomorrow. What am I to do about dinner?"
"Not to worry, milady," Nayla said. "Letain!"
"Yes, Major!"
"Do you think you can rustle up some of your special grub for the Lady and Samuel?"
"Aye, ma'am. I'll get started immediately."
"Excellent." She turned back to Mira. "Letain is an honest-to-God chef. He trained in France before blessing the EMEF with his presence."
Mira's eyes lit up. "Perhaps I could watch?"
"He would love it."
Mira headed to the kitchen, leaving Royce and Nayla alone in the large foyer.
"Nayla, I'm going to file a report with Losi using the shuttle's rig. Anything you want to add?"
"No, sir. Our talk pretty much covered it. I'll call you when dinner is ready."
"God bless you, young major."
Royce headed out to the shuttle to make his call.
Chapter 11 - Earth Command
The Grumpy Elfling entered Earth Command space and was immediately joined by four fighter escort craft, each bristling with ordinance. "Ventos Two, this is Viper Flight One on guard, do you copy? Over."
"Viper One, this is Ventos Two, we copy, over."
"Follow us down, Ventos Two. You are expected. Viper One out."
"My, look at all that hardware," Jewel said as she followed the four ships down.
"They're spooked and rightfully so. They've got a device that could destroy the planet sitting out in one of their deserts."
"So, how does the ambassador handle this?"
"I tell them everything I know, then stand back as they take control of the situation. It's their planet after all."
"And if they do something that might get Marta killed or the planet destroyed?"
"I take matters into my own hands in such a way that Ventos Prime can't be blamed in the event the whole thing goes sideways."
"Ah, just like the old days." She saw the look on his face. "What? Just saying."
Lucien looked at fighter escort and muttered, "Just like the old days."
Lucien and Jewel were greeted at the landing pad by a team of six EarthSec Marines in full battle gear. They were led into the building and into an elevator which took them down thirty floors to a meeting room.
"Nice digs," Jewel said. She grabbed a couple of water bottles from the credenza and handed one to Lucien before draping herself over one of the room's chairs.
"Comfy?"
Jewel looked around and saw a five-foot long centipede watching her from the end of the table. Oddly, it had large, blue, human-like eyes. "Aye, very. No offense, but what the hell are you?"
"Jewel!"
"Lucien, I am not offended. To answer your question, fair neo, I am Mito, Nerfretti ambassador to Earth."
"So, you're one of the mysterious Nerfretti. Where are the rest of your remote units?"<
br />
Mito laughed as his body's individual segments separated, jumped onto the table, and walked over to Jewel, where they reassembled into a centipede. "They're right here." One segment separated and jumped into her outstretched hand so she could examine it.
"Interesting. You're not purely organic?" she asked while placing the unit back on the table. It quickly rejoined the main body.
"No. Millennia ago, we began augmenting our forms with cyber organics. What you see is one of the results."
"Results, as in more than one."
"Rumor has it they come in a whole plethora of forms," Lucien added. "Though I have only met Mito. So, Mito, what brings you to Earth?"
"Special project out in the Sahara Desert. You know, the usual cloak and dagger. I just stopped in to say hello."
"Cool. Who’s giving the briefing?"
"Why, you are old chap."
Five individuals walked in, all scowling, as Mito made a quick exit. Lucien knew all of them. "I guess I'll make the introductions. Admiral Eric Erskine, Space command, General Robert Roland, Earth Defense Force, Earth Security Chief Debra Downing, Attorney General Cassandra Cates, and Earth President Nancy Nettles, this is my sister, Princess Jewel of House Irithyl."
"I can see the resemblance," Adm. Erskine said.
"I have our mother's eyes," Jewel replied.
"Nancy, what's up? I thought Losi briefed you."
"She did, but it makes no sense. A secret organization, a weapon of mass destruction, and your kidnapped wife. What the hell is going on?"
Lucien updated them on what he had found.
"You hacked one of our security satellites?"
"I borrowed its data feed."
"What about a GPS and a SatComm satellite. Were those borrowed as well?"
"Of course. I am currently tracking three road trains heading into the interior of the Simpson Desert. I think they're heading to this set of coordinates." He wrote down a set of numbers on a slip of paper and handed it to the President. She looked at it a moment before using the intercom to summon an aide.
"Mistress?"
"I want to know about everything within ten miles of these coordinates."
"Yes, mistress."
"Lucien, where did you get these?"
"Chik gave them to me. He said Marta came into his tavern with a group of people dressed in black jumpsuits. They ordered a delivery to those coordinates. He said she looked a little loopy."