Chapter 3
Ebony place-cards, elegantly lined with crimson, lay before each of the seven chairs on an oval black marble table. Jon found his name and settled into his velvet-lined seat. A waiter appeared at his side, placing a glass of Champagne at Jon’s elbow.
There was movement at his right, and Richard slid into the seat, nodding to him. “May the best man win.”
Stephen was two seats right of Richard, and he took a long sip of Champagne before raising his glass to the other two. “Do not get too used to those seats,” he called across the table.
Molloy strolled past them with a scornful gaze before settling herself in at the far end of the table. “I hope at least Spider will be joining us,” she huffed. “I would wish for some real competition tonight - not you chipmunks.” She plunked herself heavily into her chair, snapping her fingers for her glass.
A gruff voice sounded at Jon’s left. “You might just have it,” he calmly returned. Jon’s eyes twinkled as Xerxes settled into the seat at his left. Jon knew the man’s reputation, and competition might have been an understatement.
The willowy blond delegate took the seat at Stephen’s right, nodding to the group. “I am Martin,” he introduced himself, elegantly reaching for his wine. “I represent the local interest in our little game.”
Molloy’s eyes went to the remaining seat between Richard and Stephen with hawk-sharp interest. “So where is our final competitor?”
There was a movement by a side door, and a slim figure in a swirling crimson caftan emerged. A turban encased his head and a full ebony face mask concealed his features. A crimson spider was emblazoned across the center of the face.
Excited murmurs followed him as he moved across the room and took the remaining seat. A glass of wine was presented, but he shook his head, waving it off.
Captain Smythe came up behind Jon, laying a hand on his shoulder. “It appears you are getting your wish and taking on the Spider himself,” he chuckled with warmth. “Keep your wits sharp, my friend. Remember, you are defending the honor of our entire ship.”
“I will not let you down,” vowed Jon, looking over Spider with interest. Ever since the first Spider’s event, held several years ago on the infamous plains of Sidor X, the masked player had made his presence felt at almost every game. His cool gameplay was legendary, with only the emotionless orbs shining from behind that flat mask.
A procession of seven servants flowed into the room, coming to stand behind each player. With a flourish they placed down four stacks of chips – two crimson, two ebony. A deck of cards was placed before Martin, and then the servants faded back into the eager throngs.
Molloy drained her wine and sharply set her empty glass down, drawing all eyes to her. The movement of lava in the bank of windows sent a dappling of red and gold against her pale skin. She gave a toothy smile to the collected players.
“Well then, let’s get this adventure started, gentlemen,” she called out. “I say we start the kitty at 5,000 credits.”
Martin paled at the figure, but one by one the men nodded their agreement. In a moment Martin had passed around the cards, and the play began.
Jon found it took every ounce of his concentration to stay even with the players. Each person there was at the highest level of gameplay, and it showed in every call, in every motion of the hand. The crowd murmured in excitement with each turn of the card and slide of a chip. The minutes drew out like taffy slowly easing from a warm pot.
A pale woman in a sleek, black dress, her hair the color of faded bubble gum, came up to his shoulder holding a flute of Champagne. Her teeth sparkled as she placed it at his side. Her voice was a low purr. “I thought I might bring you something for luck,” she murmured. “I just know you will be the one on top tonight.”
Stephen’s eyes glinted with amusement, and he riffed the top of his cards.
Jon nodded his head to the woman. He was sure that she had been blonde when she arrived. She must have done some quick work with the replicator to change her look just for him. “I appreciate it, but –”
She shook her head, laying an elegant finger on her lips. “Save your talking for later,” she soothed him. “We’ll make every word count.” She slipped back into the crowd.
Richard raised an eyebrow. “Distractions come in all forms,” he teased with a grin. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you.”
Molloy’s sharp voice echoed across the table. “What are you playboys whispering about? Get on with the game. Save your sweet nothings for each other for that bordello you call a ship. I’m sure by now you’ve turned Christopher’s empty room into a love nest. He hardly needs it any more, does he?”
A frisson of anger skittered through Richard’s gaze, then his brow smoothed again. “Shall we?”
The minutes ticked by, the cards went around, and soon the marker was sitting before the blond diplomat. Martin’s finger had a slight tremble to it as he pushed in a chip, one of only a few left in his pile. Jon wondered for the sixth time if the delegate truly was in over his head or if this was an elaborate act.
Molloy’s eyes sharpened. “Buck up, Martini,” she snapped. “Either you play with the big boys or you drop out. Which will it be?”
Martin gulped, then with resolution he added his remaining chips to the pile. “All in,” he announced, his voice cracking.
Molloy grinned widely. “About time,” she triumphed. She laid down her cards. “Full flush,” she announced with pleasure to the group.
Martin groaned, dropping his head in his hands. There were good-natured pats on his back from the crowd. Then he stood, heading over to the bar with slumped shoulders.
Stephen’s eyes sparkled, and he glanced over to Richard and Jon. “The attrition has begun.”
Molloy rubbed her hands together, looking out over the table. “All right, which of you mewling calves is next for the butcher’s block?”
The cards were dealt out, the bids went around, and Jon ran his eyes over each player in turn. Xerxes could have been carved from granite, for all the emotion the man showed. Stephen seemed amused with each hand. Richard was steady, focused, his full attention on the table before him.
Jon drew his eyes, again, to the swirled woman at the end of the table. Her acerbic comments had visibly unsettled Martin, but were having less of an effect on the remaining men. He could see the frustration growing in her tight gaze as the table refused to rise to her escalating barbs.
And was that a slight tenseness in Molloy’s shoulders, where the red paint rippled into a wrinkling crevasse?
Time for a test.
The marker came to him, and he held her gaze. “I raise a hundred credits.”
Yes, there it was. The creases deepened into small chasms. Her hand was clearly not what she had hoped for.
Richard glanced at him for a moment, and Jon could see the glint of amusement there, one which flashed and then was hidden again in the steady focus.
Richard’s voice was cool. “A hundred credits,” he agreed. He smoothly slid the chips into the center.
Molloy’s caustic tone could cut glass. “Is that all?” she snarled. “And to think I once thought you a real man. Your time on that floating whorehouse has gelded you.”
Richard’s face did not alter its steady focus. “To you, Spider.”
The masked figure nodded, sliding a small stack of chips into the pile to match. Molloy’s snort of annoyance could be heard across the room.
Stephen gave Richard a wink before reaching down to his own chips. “A hundred it is, my brother in arms,” he agreed. “We will see if you can hold your own against these delightful cards.”
Molloy’s voice carved its way down the table. “Do you two have one ounce of manhood left in you?” She tossed her drink down her throat. “How could you, with that painted whore ordering you around all the time. She should have been forced to spend that night with Caymus the Carver.” Her eyes glinted. “That would have put her in her place.”
St
ephen’s playful smile stilled, and Richard’s focus gained an edge which Jon recognized instantly. He wondered that Molloy did not ease back from the table at the palpable danger. Instead, the woman seemed delighted with the reactions. The swirls of paint on her cheek compressed as her grin grew. She leant forward, her gaze sharpening.
“I hear from a reliable source that you wouldn’t have lifted a finger to protect her,” she needled. “You would have just let him have her.”
Both men were fully engaged now, their every ounce of attention on the woman. Jon could see the tension rippling down their arms with the effort it took them to remain in place. Molloy was nearly glowing with satisfaction at the effect she had caused.
She looked down at her cards again, and then placed them face-down on the table. “You know what? I am going to call your bluff. Because I know your whole group is comprised of cowards. You had to allow another man to step in and protect your Lady Fair on Vercador Sept. When there was nobody to save you on Raisa Dwa, look what happened.” She spread her arms wide. “That weakling, Christopher, goes and gets himself killed by falling into a mud pit.” She gave a snorting laugh. “Talk about the stupidest, most idiotic –”
It was as if Stephen and Richard crystallized into honed steel. Controlled fury etched their features; both men eased up out of their seats.
A bright flash of panic flared in Molloy’s eyes. The pale blue veins in her neck pulsed in fast-paced staccato.
Spider’s ebony-gloved hands came up to rest on the arm of each man at his side, gently holding them in place. The crowd had hushed to a deathly silence.
For a long, harrowing moment, the room remained in a tableau. Not a breath shook the stillness.
Then Molloy laughed, a brittle sound, and she flashed her teeth in triumph. “You see, boys, even Spider knows I am right. Christopher was a cowardly, sniveling ant. I hear he sobbed like a baby as he was sucked down into - ”
With a deliberate move, Spider released his hand from Richard’s arm.
Molloy gave a squeak of surprise; her voice gurgled to a whisper in her throat. Richard remained still for a moment, as if to confirm that Spider had really set him free. Then he slowly drew himself to his full height, staring down the table at Molloy.
Spider moved his hand to his mask and with careful precision undid the ties at the corners. He brought the unit down to rest on the table, then stared evenly across at Molloy.
It was Nicole.
A soft murmur ran around the crowd, quickly hushed as Nicole turned to look at Xavier. Her voice was low and even. “Do I have your permission to release our announcement early?”
His face was still recovering from the surprise of learning Spider’s identity, but he nodded to her in acceptance. “I trust in your judgment.”
She brought her gaze back to hold Molloy’s again. The fingers of her left hand moved to rest against Richard’s, twining into them. Jon noted that Sean and Ian had come to stand behind her.
Richard held Molloy’s eyes in a cold stare. “Raisa Dwa,” he stated. “On Raisa Dwa, Christopher demonstrated the true meaning of honor, loyalty, and heroism. We have held our tongue, all these years, and allowed your wild slanders to continue unchecked. But now, at long last, it is time to make sure the truth is known. It is time for Christopher’s reputation to be restored.”
Molloy’s eyes were bright with panic, and she looked over to Xerxes, her tone wheedling. “Surely you cannot believe the wild ravings of these miscreants,” she urged. “Nothing they say can have even a drop of truth in it.”
Xerxes drew his eyes back to Richard. “Go on.”
Richard nodded, his eyes never leaving Molloy’s. “Raisa Dwa was embroiled in a civil war. The Collective’s negotiating team was caught in the crossfire and Xerxes sent us in to rescue them. The situation on planet was even more desperate than we had heard. By the time we arrived, the safe-house the team was bunkered in was nearly destroyed. The Irridium presence in the nearby mountains meant we had to get at least ten miles away before we could beam back up to our ship. We desperately needed backup.”
His gaze narrowed. “We knew that your ship was hiding in the nearby nebula, waiting to watch us fail.”
Molloy huffed out in sharp disagreement. “We were there researching the cluster structure,” she insisted. “We had no idea you were on planet or in trouble.”
“We sent your ship a distress signal,” continued Richard, ignoring her interruption. “When we did not hear back in a few hours, the majority of us voted to run for it. We knew your cowardice and antipathy. We knew you would abandon us on the planet to face a brutal death.”
Molloy’s face flushed crimson. “What utter balderdash,” she snorted. “If I had known, of course I would have come to rescue you from your incompetence.”
A ripple of muscle tightened along Richard’s arm, but the steady tone of his voice did not alter. “Only Christopher argued to believe in you. He insisted that you would come; that your training and innate honor would win over any childish jealousies.”
He took in a deep breath.
“And so we waited.”
His voice dropped. “For three long, hellacious days and nights we waited, while shells shook the stones from their foundations and rained shrapnel on us.”
He looked down at Nicole for a moment. “When, at last, we were forced to abandon the remains of our shelter, Christopher felt the full burden of placing us in added jeopardy. Our delay had given the enemy time to set up lava traps all along our route. Those were the pet horror of this particular war. A hybrid of quicksand and a bubbling cauldron, the trap looked like passable dirt road. It would even hold a man’s weight for a few steps.” The skin on his face tightened. “And then, that man would slowly sink, burning alive as he did.”
He looked back across at Molloy. “Christopher insisted on going first, on testing all ground as we made our way toward the beam-up point. He had several close calls, where the path gave way beneath him, but he was always able to crawl back out with only minor burns and injuries.”
His lips pressed together. “We were nearly at the destination when two of the female delegates panicked. They moved too quickly behind him, and their combined weight broke the top crust before he could stop them. Their feet were all caught by the suction, and they were being pulled down.”
His fingers twined into Nicole’s, and he looked down for a moment. “Christopher grabbed each woman by the waist, and flung her with all his might back toward safety. The action pushed him down deeper into the lava. We tried to get to him, but the pool was too big. There was no way to reach him. Then he was sucked down, screaming in pain, all the while shouting for us to run, to get to safety, to get off the planet.”
Molloy fumbled with her empty glass. “I had no idea you were in trouble,” she muttered. “I was in the nebula. I never heard any message.”
Nicole slowly rose to stand at Richard’s side. On her other side, Stephen stood as well. Sean and Ian spread out to flank either side of their team.
Nicole’s voice carried clearly across the room. “The announcement Xerxes and I were going to make in two days concerns a new form of communication my team has been testing for many years now.” Her eyes remained focused on Molloy. “It is a directed form of message beam. It can create a pinpoint link between any two ships, regardless of cosmic interference.” She paused for a moment. “This style of transmission provides confirmation of receipt.”
Xerxes swiveled his eyes to stare at Molloy. His face held shock. “You received the message, and you did not act on it?”
Fury rose in Molloy’s face, her breath came in short draws, and then suddenly her anger burst from her, cascading in a shower of daggers. “How did she become the Golden Child? I had worked hard for my promotions, doing what had to be done, taking any route I could to victory. I was the one who deserved the praise and attention. And then this …” She ran her eyes dismissively over Nicole. “This untried trollop comes waltzing into my world wi
th her harem of miscreants, and suddenly I am cast aside?”
Her voice rose high. “She should be the one on trial, here, not me! Whatever that bitch does, whatever she says, it is as if God on high has come down and spoken through her mouth. Not this time!”
Xerxes’s eyes became cool marbles. “Molloy, I think you will come join me on the command ship. Now.”
Molloy’s eyes sharpened. “I would like that. It’s long past time we got some things straight.”
Xerxes gave a somber nod to Nicole, and then moved to stand next to Molloy. A touch of the badge at his chest, and the two shimmered from sight.
Jon turned back to Nicole. She was drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, and Jon could see that Stephen was supporting her from one side.
Richard spoke up. “A ten minute break, everyone.”
Excited murmurings broke out all around them, but Jon’s world was solely the haunted pain in Nicole’s eyes and the sturdy compassion of the four men who walked with her out to the balcony. The door closed behind them, and they stood in a quiet group, isolated from the throngs at the party.
Jon wished with all his heart that he was there with them.
Aquarian Awakenings - A Collective Saga Sci-Fi Romance Page 6