“What’s the plan?” asked Poly.
“Walk in and ask to talk to The General?” I offered.
Rosalind laughed and tried to disguise it by covering her mouth with her hand and turning it into a cough.
“I wouldn’t advise that,” she said. “My understanding is that there are extensive dungeons underneath EUA headquarters.”
“Dungeons?” said Poly, her eyes widening.
“Okay, call them holding cells or interrogation stations or detainment facilities…” said Rosalind.
“…but they’re dungeons,” I completed.
“Right,” said Rosalind. “And we don’t want to risk being thrown into them.”
“What do you suggest?” asked Poly.
“Once I get in, we’re golden,” said Rosalind. “We should try to get to an upper floor and speak to a higher-level flunky, though we might learn a lot just from keeping our eyes open.”
I looked at Poly. She nodded.
“Let’s do it,” I said. “Who do we want to talk to?”
“Someone in legal or human resources,” said Rosalind. “They’re high up, without being too senior.”
“Not that slimy Adolphus Kone,” said Poly.
She rubbed her mouth with the side of her fist and looked ready to spit, but didn’t.
“You’ve met Boss Kone?” asked Rosalind. “I know him well. Not one of my favorite people.”
“Not one of ours, either,” I said. “He was at Pomy’s trial.”
“Why would the head of EUA’s legal department be at such a low-level proceeding?” mused Rosalind. “He normally has his junior attorneys handle cases like that.”
“He was just there to observe, I think,” said Poly. “His daughter, Brunhilde Dagomar, was counsel for the prosecution.”
“The Bulldog?” asked Rosalind. “She’s a piece of work.”
“She’s a piece of…” Poly began angrily.
“She is indeed,” I broke in, “but Atticus won the case and Pomy’s in the clear, so lets focus on our reconnaissance.”
“Yes, darling,” said Poly.
She was looking at me, but pointedly not looking at Rosalind. Poly didn’t sound like she was teasing me or being affectionate, so I struggled with why she added the endearment. It confused me, when I needed to concentrate.
Rosalind ignored Poly.
“We just need to get inside and on an elevator,” she said. “I can get us hooked into their systems or connect to someone who can help us once we get past whoever is playing guard dog.”
“Let’s hope Rosalind is as effective as Orpheus in putting Cerberus to sleep,” I said optimistically.
“With our luck it will probably be a hydra rather than a dog,” lamented Poly.
“Seven heads would be more of a challenge than three,” said Rosalind.
“Given that we’re going into the lion’s den, it’s probably a chimera, not a hydra,” I suggested.
“With double-regenerating heads like a hydra,” said Poly.
“And I forgot to bring my sword,” said Rosalind.
“You have a sword?” I said, before I could stop myself.
Rosalind looked at me sideways and moved her head slowly from side to side.
“You could borrow Mike’s,” said Poly.
“Mike has a sword?” I asked.
I was a slow learner today. I could tell my brain was was stalling, trying to come up with a reason not to enter EUA HQ. The lack of a rhetorical sword seemed as good a reason as any, given the gyrations my mind was ready to go through.
“Several, actually,” said Poly. “A steel broadsword, three rattan swords for SCA combat, and half a dozen boffers for LARPing.”
We had crossed the park and were now at the entrance to EUA’s unwelcoming courtyard. In front of us was slab of black marble like one of the monoliths from 2001: A Space Odyssey turned on its side. It had six-foot-tall sans-serif letters carved into it announcing that this was EUA’s world headquarters. I didn’t want to take another step and would rather enter Mordor. We all stopped, reluctant to pass into the foreboding courtyard. The stalling continued.
“Mike’s in the SCA?” I said.
“Uh huh,” said Poly. “He joined in Drachenwald.”
“Where in the ten thousand planets of the Galactic Free Trade Association is Drachenwald?” asked Rosalind.
“It’s the SCA’s largest kingdom in Europe,” said Poly.
“What’s the SCA?” asked Rosalind.
“The Society for Creative Anachronism,” said Poly. “It’s a historical recreation organization, mostly focused on stuff up to the reign of Elizabeth.”
“King William’s grandmother?” asked Rosalind.
“No, the first Queen Elizabeth,” said Poly.
“Oh,” said Rosalind.
I could see she was puzzled by why we were talking about something so inconsequential.
“I went to an SCA event on Orish once,” I said. “It was fun. Most of the nymphs painted their chitin to look like samurai armor. It made them look even more intimidating.”
“You continue to surprise me, lover-boy,” said Poly, giving me a peck on the cheek that did a lot to boost my spirits while making me feel like she’d planted a flag on my shore. “We’ll have to suggest that to Shuvvath if Mike ever drags him along to an SCA event. Maybe we can all go.”
“That would be fun,” I said, not particularly minding being claimed by Spain, um, er, Poly.
“Let’s get this show on the road, buckos,” said Chit. “This ring ain’t gonna destroy itself.”
“What ring?” asked my phone.
It was out of character for my phone to miss a Tolkien reference. I didn’t answer and we stepped into the courtyard, crossing the dark pavement to the main entrance with quick steps, just to get it over with. The front entrance did nothing to reduce my anxiety. The doors were thick, opaque and imposing with no indication of what I needed to do to open them. Rosalind knew the secret, however. She leaned her shoulder into one of the doors and encouraged Poly and me to help her push. Thanks to our joint efforts, the door slowly opened. As it did, I realized it was six inches thick and made of heavy, black-enameled metal. The place felt like a vault, not a corporate headquarters. It made me wonder what they had to hide.
If it took this much effort just to open the door, what would the gatekeeper be like? We soon found out as a trio of uniformed security guards approached. They were the size of NFL offensive linemen crossed with sumo wrestlers and didn’t seem pleased to see us.
“State your business,” said the one in the lead.
“Marion Ravenwood to see Adolphus Kone,” said Rosalind matter-of-factly.
“Check in at reception,” said the lead guard, waving toward wide counter that looked like it was carved from a chunk of obsidian. Behind it stood a woman who could have been the inspiration for the phrase old battle ax.
“Whaddya want?” she croaked.
Her voice sounded like a cross between a rusty hinge and a strangled cat.
“Don’t give me any crap, Mildred. I’ve got to report in and these two have critical intel.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said the receptionist, her creaky voice disappearing. “Right away, Rosey.”
I was getting a bad feeling about this. So was Poly. We looked at each other, then at Rosalind. We she pulling a fast one on us? How did the woman behind the desk recognize Rosalind, for that matter? I could barely recognize her.
The receptionist made a call and waved us to move beyond her counter, back into the interior of the lobby. Rosalind moved deliberately, like she knew where she was going. Soon we were out of sight of Mildred and the security guards, standing alone in an octagonal chamber surrounded by archways.
“What’s going on?” I protested.
“Shut up, you idiot,” said Rosalind. “When I want your input I”ll ask for it.”
Poly was seething, about to tear into Rosalind. I put my hand on her shoulder to hold her back. My eyes wer
e signaling to go with the flow, at least for now. Maybe Rosalind didn’t want us giving away her new allegiance.
“Which way now?” asked Poly, back in control.
Rosalind led us into one of the archways on the left. I hoped there wasn’t anything sinister about her choice of direction. We moved through something that felt like an invisible curtain and found ourselves in an elevator compartment. Rosalind pushed a button—I couldn’t see the floor she selected, but immediately felt my ears adjusting to a change in atmospheric pressure.
“Where are we…” I began to say.
Rosalind pulled a mini-sweetener out of a jacket pocket and pointed it at my mid-section. I didn’t feel too bad about that. I was wearing my Orishen pupa silk shirt and knew that Rosalind knew I was wearing it.
“What part of ‘shut up’ don’t you understand?” barked Rosalind.
I closed my mouth and kept it closed. I also grabbed Poly’s hand and held it reassuringly—in part to make sure my partner didn’t practice kung fu moves on the mother of my child. Life can be complicated.
A few seconds later, after I’d yawned twice to help equalize the pressure in my ears, the elevator’s door opened. We found ourselves on the forty-second floor, according to a sign on the wall in front of us. Forty-two seemed like a perfectly reasonable answer on where to get off.
“This way. March!” ordered Rosalind, poking her sweetener into my back and directing Poly and me to the left and along a dark, deserted corridor. She pushed us through a door on the right and into a darkened space. Rosalind did something with her phone. I soon heard and felt the telltale subliminal lack of external noise of an activated Cone of Silence field.
Poly wound herself up and was about to give Rosalind a piece of her mind. Chit beat her to it.
“Hey Granny, are you turning traitor?” asked my little friend. “If you are, I’m gonna make you wish you was never born.”
“You and what army, bug?” asked Rosalind. “Give me a break. We’re inside EUA’s headquarters and I know how to tap into their secure networks from here.”
“I thought you wanted to meet with somebody?” asked Poly.
“I wanted to get inside and take an elevator to an upper floor,” said Rosalind. “From here, I can do almost anything, so keep quiet and let me work. Please.”
The last word was only added as an afterthought, but I forgave Rosalind for her attitude. She was under a lot of stress. Rosalind took out her phone and started pushing virtual buttons on its screen. My phone hopped up on my shoulder to follow what she was doing.
“She’s tapping a secure wireless comm channel,” said my phone. “Now she’s pattern-matching, looking for any references to The General.”
Rosalind’s phone chimed. She looked at the screen and her face showed surprise, amusement and concern, in that order.
“What is it?” asked Poly.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
My phone had been looking over Rosalind’s shoulder and responded when she didn’t.
“The General has a meeting with Bavarian Kreem in his office on the sixty-sixth floor in fifteen minutes to discuss EUA acquiring her company,” my phone informed us.
“What’s the big deal about that?” asked Poly. “The General seems to have control of every other major Atlanta corporation, why not Consolidated Donuts?”
“Today the doughnuts, tomorrow the sprinkles,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
“It’s not funny,” said Rosalind. “Bavarian isn’t alone.”
“She’s only a kid,” said Poly. “You’d expect her advisers to be along.”
“No,” said Rosalind. “That’s not it. Terrhi is with her!”
Chapter 31
“I don’t care if he’s a bastard…”
— Lyanna Mormont
Rosalind crossed to the door and flipped a switch. The darkened room turned bright and I saw we were in an office—Rosalind’s office, from the name plate on the desk reading McBryde. Between Rosalind and her brother, the pair had more names than the Atlanta phone directory.
A large flatscreen hung on the office wall. Rosalind put her phone down on her desk and slaved it to the screen so we could watch the progress of Bavarian and Terrhi and Spike as they walked down a long black corridor. I felt a bit better knowing Terrhi had Spike along to protect her.
I was impressed by Terrhi for acting so promptly on the task I’d set her, but I was concerned that Tomáso and Queen Sherrhi probably didn’t know their daring daughter and her trisabertooth pet had left the Charalindhri and returned to Atlanta. It would be a major understatement to say her parents would be displeased to learn Terrhi was in EUA’s headquarters without an armed escort.
“Could you turn up the audio?” asked Poly. “I want to hear what they’re saying.”
“What’s the magic word?” replied Rosalind.
My partner gritted her teeth and didn’t lose her cool. “Pretty please, with powdered sugar and shredded coconut?”
At least Poly hadn’t lost her sense of snark. Neither had Rosalind.
“Since you asked so nicely—and I like shredded coconut.”
A couple of keystrokes on Rosalind’s phone activated microphones along the corridor.
Terrhi was talking to Bavarian, a young human girl with short blonde hair wearing a white pinafore and a determined expression. Bavarian was juggling three small amber balls in one hand, tossing them in a simple rolling out pattern. I wondered if they were some new fad for children, like Pokemon when I was a kid.
“What’s the plan?” said the Dauushan princess.
“The plan,” said Bavarian, “is to carve The General a new…”
“As long as we don’t provoke him too much,” said Terrhi. “My mom wants him at the Dauushan consulate at five o’clock today and it wouldn’t be wise to start with him in a bad mood.”
“Why should his mood be any different than mine?” asked Bavarian, her face looking like she’d been forced to eat liver.
“Why are they on the wrong floor?” remarked Rosalind, noticing the numbers on the office doors. “The General is on the top floor. They’re two floors down, with the heads of legal and human resources.”
“Isn’t that where you wanted to end up anyway?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Rosalind, “but not while trying to rescue two little girls and a hundred-and-fifty-pound cat.”
“What makes you think they’ll need to be rescued?” asked Poly.
I thought about it for a few seconds, then nodded.
“You may have something there,” I said.
“If The General thinks he’s going to get my company without a fight, he doesn’t know me very well,” said the nine-year-old girl.
She sounded more like she was thirty-nine, or maybe forty-nine. I made a mental note never to cross her.
“How can you stop him?” asked Terrhi. “EUA has a private army. Several of them, actually, counting their subsidiaries.”
Terrhi was more innocent than Bavarian, but also wise beyond her years.
“Consolidated has plenty of dough if I want to hire my own mercenaries,” said Bavarian.
Rosalind, Poly, Chit and I all groaned at the pun, which we weren’t sure was intentional. Even my phone made a sad chirp. On the screen, Spike kept his four true-feet on the carpet and covered his eyes with one of his forepaws. I still wasn’t sure how much the big cat understood.
“You’ll need a lot of mercenaries,” mused Terrhi.
“Uh huh,” said Bavarian. “I’m also making new friends—and they have armies.”
She started scratching a hard-to-reach spot on the back of Terrhi’s head. Terrhi looked thoughtful and wriggled under Bavarian’s fingers.
“There is that,” said the Shetland pony-sized girl.
Spike’s mouth opened, showing off his dagger-like teeth. I wasn’t sure if it was a laugh or a yawn.
“How’re ya gettin’ such great audio ’n’ video, Grandma?” asked Chit.
�
��The whole building is monitored,” answered Rosalind. “You just have to know how to tap the relevant feeds.”
“Let’s hope The General’s internal security team isn’t following this,” I added.
“You can be sure they are,” said Rosalind. “But the girls and the cat are the perfect distraction. I can count on them taking most of internal security’s attention while I climb an air shaft to the sixty-sixth floor.”
“What’s up there?” asked Poly.
“The General’s private office and apartment,” said Rosalind.
“You’re climbing twenty-four stories in an air shaft?” I asked.
Rosalind crossed to her desk, opened a drawer, and removed a small drone and a large spool of motorized cable.
“I’ll be taking the express route,” she said, pointing at her equipment. “This baby made it really easy to break into…”
I coughed.
“This baby will make it much easier,” she revised. “The human security people’s eyes will be elsewhere.”
I could see how things would work. The drone would carry one end of the cable to the sixty-sixth floor and secure the loop at one end to something convenient. Then she’d hook the motorized end to a harness and let the motor lift her up the vertical distance. I stared at the components long enough to memorize their dimensions, since I knew I’d want a similar rig for myself in the future. Something like that could really come in handy for running cables up elevator shafts—and diverse other uses.
“Want some company, Toots?” asked Chit.
“I’m not Grandma anymore?” returned Rosalind.
“Things are lookin’ up for ya these days,” said Chit, taking in her climbing equipment.
“Come along if you want, bug,” said Rosalind. “You don’t weigh much.”
Chit snorted and Rosalind made a face at her. I think the snort was another unfair comment on Rosalind’s extra padding. The Murm buzzed over and landed on the back of Rosalind’s neck. After buckling on a harness from another desk drawer, Rosalind moved to pick up her phone from the top of her desk. My phone intercepted her movement and scanned her communications device.
Xenotech General Mayhem: A Novel of the Galactic Free Trade Association (Xenotech Support Book 4) Page 25