The Dark Defiance

by A. G. Claymore

  One of the cart pushers stopped in mid call as his eyes settled on the newcomers. His surprise spread like ripples in a pond. A growing circle of silence intruded upon the bustle of the early morning market. More than a hundred pairs of eyes stared quietly at them in the dying rain.

  “You’d think they wouldn’t be so surprised to see aliens,” Harry said out of the corner of his mouth. “I see at least three different species standing here in front of us and they’re all pretty similar to us, so what’s the big deal about one more?”

  “Perhaps they’ve heard about the war and they think we came here to knock them about a bit.” Liam strolled back over from his inspection of the docks. “A little reassurance might be in order?” He suggested.

  Harry nodded. “Tommy, give ‘em the old ‘we come in peace’ speech. Everyone else – try to look friendly. Kale, stand at the back of the group.”

  “Greetings, citizens of Khola,” Tommy began in Dheema. “We come from the distant world of Earth. We are here to open peaceful trade negotiations with your people.” The effect was almost immediate. Before Tommy could say anything more, the crowd began to disperse, returning to their shops and carts. He frowned in confusion until he realized that the food vendor was grinning at him.

  “What the hell?” Harry exclaimed in surprise. “Tommy, did you threaten them?”

  “Most of the folk here in the water market are indigenous Kholarii,” the vendor explained as he pushed his cart closer. “They saw a group of large aliens and, naturally, they feared that their apocalypse was at hand.” He waved a dismissive hand at the already-busy crowds behind him. “They see portents in just about anything.” He leaned in towards Tommy, causing Liam’s hand to move towards the grip of his assault rifle. “If you had farted instead of making that speech,” he began in a conspiratorial whisper, “they probably would have run off screaming.” He chuckled at his own wit as he leaned back.

  “Tommy,” Harry began in a casual tone, smiling at the vendor. “What in seven hells is going on?”

  The young man explained what the vendor had told him. Harry nodded and smiled again at the cart pusher. “Well, this fella seems friendly enough – see if he can help us find our bearings. We need to find a bank and register the funds that Ed transmitted for us, then we need to find some mining companies. The sooner we can fill our hold, the sooner we can rest easy.”

  Tommy turned back to their new friend. “Thank you for the explanation.” The alien responded with a slight, sideways inclination of his head. “We were wondering if you might be able to direct us to a bank; we need to establish our credit on this world before we can conduct any business.”

  “I can do better than that,” the vendor fished in a pocket before pulling out a small, oval card. He handed it to Tommy. “My brother-in-law operates a large carriage-for-hire. You can call him by pressing your thumb onto the small circle in the middle until it turns blue – the circle, that is, not your thumb.” He chuckled. “Chelak will take you to a bank as long as you can pay the fare when you come back out. He can be your guide as well. Whatever sort of company you want to deal with, he can get you there and his rates are very reasonable.”

  Tommy translated for the group.

  “Clever chap,” Liam grunted. “Obviously the docks are a good place to hand out cards for a cabbie.”

  “Horizontally integrated business model,” Bernie muttered absently. “Bet they have a restaurant in the family as well…”

  “If the man has a head for business, then he’s just the sort of guide we want.” Harry took the card from Tommy and looked at it. It was about the same thickness and size as a credit card. He pressed his thumb into the circle grunting in amusement as the surface suddenly emitted a soft blue glow that pulsed slowly. The pulse began to quicken, turning into a solid blue light.

  “How much you want to bet he was waiting down the street, hoping to snag a fare from the newly arrived ship?” Kale asked the group. Harry looked up to see a large, van-like vehicle hovering ten feet away. “Bet he has a cousin working at Orbital Control so he knows when to be here.”

  The side of the cab slid up and over the roof, leaving a couple of feet extended over the opening like an awning. The driver, obviously the same species as the cart pusher, hopped out and gave them a deep bow, gesturing invitingly at the vehicle as he straightened.

  “If you can start by taking us to a bank,” Tommy called to him, “we can talk about a deal for the rest of the day.”

  “No problem.” The driver grinned. “Not many new visitors show up down here with local currency on their chip. I’ll trust you for payment in much the same way I’ll trust you not to use those deadly looking weapons on me!”

  Tommy translated as they got in. Bit of a pain, but I suppose that’s the reason I’m here. He thought and then grinned as the door rotated into the closed position. The vehicle’s sound system had been playing some kind of twangy, lyrical tune but now an announcer was talking rapidly in the wildly varying tones common to DJ’s everywhere. They only had a few seconds to grab your attention and get their message across before the next song and this one was flogging a chance to win a dinner for two.

  Bloody odd. He settled into a seat behind the driver. Still, I suppose it isn’t much of a stretch that they should have radio stations out here. If they do, it’s a cinch that they would have to make money doing commercials. The music came back, this time with a steady, pounding drum beat.

  “Next stop – the illustrious Imperial Bank,” the driver called over his shoulder as he leaned on a horn button with his elbow. The crowd slowly parted as he manoeuvered towards one of the city’s entry gates.

  The Ormen

  Three hours travel from Cera

  Caul sat at the table in his quarters, brooding as he stared out the window. The fleet would rest here and repair the minimal damage taken before moving on to their next victim. Repairs were never carried out at the site of a raid if they could avoid it. A rescue force might surprise them in orbit. Though they would have welcomed a good fight, it simply made sense to know what they were facing first. A screen of small scout ships covered their current position, two of them watching Cera.

  They would tunnel space back to Midgaard from the last raid on their list. The return gate was never opened anywhere remotely close to the outbound coordinates. The tunnels left artifacts in the fabric of the universe. Those artifacts could destroy anyone unlucky enough to open a new passage too close to the site of an older one. These remnants disappeared in the course of time.

  It should have been safe to tunnel space to Khola twenty-five centuries ago.

  Why did Odin’s ships disappear?

  They were only days away by distortion drive, but Caul had just restored the honor of his household. It had felt like a great weight lifting from his shoulders for a short time, but then the nagging curiosity had filled the gap. Was it folly for him to consider risking his family name by going to the site of his father’s disgrace?

  He rang for a thrall to come and remove the cold, untouched meal by his side. In a couple of days, the repairs would be done. The Haulds commanding the other contingents would expect Caul to lead them forward to the next world.

  Would he?

  It is a hard thing, even covered in personal glory, to live with a father’s disgrace.

  Khola

  The Imperial Bank

  “What do you mean, forty percent transfer fee?” Bernie yelled.

  “What do you mean, forty percent transfer fee?” Tommy yelled, thoroughly enjoying himself. They both sat cross-legged on cushions in front of a low work surface. Their security contingent stood behind them, eyes constantly roving about the huge open space of the bank’s main floor.

  The account manager sitting across from them was not having nearly as much fun. He glanced nervously around the room at the curious customers and showed true alarm. A well dressed bank employee began crossing the massive central space towards them. “I could improve that,” he said
rapidly, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. “I might be able to get authorization for thirty percent, since you are new customers…” his eyes darted to the approaching employee.

  Slimy little git, thought Tommy. There’s been no change in the standard fee, he’s trying to skim funds from the transaction. He answered without bothering to translate for the business agent. Whoever the approaching functionary was, she seemed to present a threat to this junior manager. Little bugger’s probably afraid of getting caught by his boss. “We were told ten percent was the norm for your bank,” he lied. In truth, they had been expecting a fifteen percent fee but Tommy wanted to leave his opponent as little room as possible.

  The eyes across the desk widened in alarm. “Fifteen is the absolute lowest that I could authorize.” He shot another glance at the approaching manager. “You won’t find a better rate anywhere, I guarantee it.” The manager was now only thirty feet away and closing fast.

  Tommy sat quietly, staring at the humanoid across from him. He ignored Bernie’s inquisitive glances.

  “Twelve,” the account manager pleaded.

  “Fourteen,” Tommy suppressed a smile, “but we’ll call it twelve.” He knew, from Gelna, that the actual bank fee was ten. They overlooked skimming as long as half of it was passed up the chain of command, but they only overlooked so much. Five percent was considered ‘grease in the wheels’ but thirty percent was over the top. This guy was up to something that his employer would never approve of. He had probably planned to keep most of the extra thirty-five percent, or hand it over to a competing criminal organization.

  The creature narrowed his gaze, seeing Tommy in a new light. “And you will hold the code for the missing two percent?”

  “I will.” Tommy didn’t quite trust Bernie with all of their local currency. The ‘missing’ two percent would provide the crew with a generous buffer if the purchasing agent managed to get ripped off. It wouldn’t be enough to fill their hold, but it would allow them to restock their provisions for the trip home. He would keep it quiet for now. If it got back to Bernie, he would insist on combining the two accounts and that would defeat the purpose of having the backup in the first place.

  “Is everything in order here?” The floor manager had reached them and she was looking down at her underling with a raised eyebrow.

  “We just sorted everything out.” Tommy looked up, taking a moment to have his first good look at a female member of one of the larger local species. Like all the species encountered since the war, she was humanoid. She was roughly four and a half feet in height. Her face was slightly elongated, wide at the cheekbones, giving her lower face a triangular shape. Her brown eyes were slightly larger than a human’s and set farther apart. The male seated across from them had similar features, but they didn’t look nearly so attractive on him as they did on her.

  He looked back at the relieved but disappointed account manager. The male reached out his hand, palm upwards. Tommy reached over and waved his own hand, palm down, over the other’s hand. The deal was done.

  “Welcome to Khola.” The floor manager smiled. “I hope your new relationship with the Imperial Bank will be long and fruitful!” She gave Tommy a brilliant smile before leaving, pausing on her way past the mercenaries to pinch Kale on the forearm. The big soldier grinned, leering at her as she walked away.

  “What did we just shake on?” Bernie wasn’t so dim as to miss the fact that a deal had been struck.

  “Fourteen percent fee.”

  “Shit!” Bernie murmured in surprise. It was a full point better than they had expected and it amounted to more than the annual salaries of the entire crew. Though Tommy had negotiated it, Bernie knew it would still make him look good. He looked at Tommy with surprise. “Nicely done, Mr. Kennedy!”

  Tommy felt a moment of remorse for keeping Bernie out of the loop until he saw the second side of the agent’s comment. Bernie had a way of paying compliments that soured after a few seconds. Why the hell is he genuinely surprised that I could make a good deal? It’s better than he could have managed, the bloody fool.

  They stepped out into the permanent night-time of the lower levels. The city was designed in such a way that light could bounce off the various windows, providing natural illumination to streets almost two kilometers in from the surface. The lower levels, where this bank was located, were too deep for such passive lighting and they had a bustling-nightlife atmosphere.

  Tommy stopped halfway across the sidewalk and Bernie bumped into his back. “Love a duck!” Tommy blurted. “Would you just look at that…” Standing in front of a storefront was an individual in a huge foam rubber costume. He looked for all the world like a meatball with legs. Catching Tommy’s eye, the alien waved invitingly at the store behind him. “Was he there when we went in? Shouldn’t be surprised I suppose,” Tommy muttered as Kale guffawed loudly. “They’d have merchants here, just like back home.”

  “Meat merchant, from the looks of it,” Bernie grinned at the walking meatball.

  “No, Bernie…” Tommy realized, too late, that he didn’t care whether Bernie understood Cockney rhyming slang or not. He sighed. “Merchant Banker – I’m saying he’s a bloody wanker.”

  “No argument there.” Kale started walking again and they moved towards the van. “Can you imagine describing that job to your girlfriend’s parents?”

  “How’d it go in there?” Harry was waiting next to the driver.

  “Great,” Bernie breezed. “Got a discount on the transfer fee.” He handed out the currency cards. “Each one carries a five grand advance against your paycheck. You press your thumb onto the circle on the left side until it turns green,” he explained. “After that, only your DNA will allow the card to work. Theft proof!” He beamed at his crewmates.

  “Bollocks,” Tommy said dryly. “All they have to do is take your thumb along with the card.”

  “Goddammit!” Kale erupted.

  Bernie turned an angry look on the company mercenary but Kale wasn’t reacting to the thought of losing a thumb. He was staring angrily at the receding back of a medium sized male while he rubbed his forearm.

  “All right,” Harry called. “Everyone back in the van. We came here to do a job and I mean to see it finished while I’m still young.”

  They piled in and Tommy explained their next goal to Chelak. The driver looked troubled. “I’m more than happy to take you wherever you want to go,” he said with a shake of his head, “but I have to say you’re probably wasting your time with the big mining companies. They’ve been dealing with the same customers for thousands of years. They would be confused by a proposal of new business. Might even see it as a de-stabilizing influence in the industry.”

  Bernie insisted on trying their luck with a large company first, reminding everyone that, even though they were only able to hold a million and a half square feet of cargo on this voyage, Red Flag would waste no time in building a fleet with the profits. That fleet would race straight back to Khola to buy even more cargo. “Won’t be long before the big companies are the only ones that can fill our orders,” he argued. “Might as well start with them if we can.”

  The drive up into the 900 block was like an accelerated daybreak. As they wound their way up one of the broad, circular boulevards that spiraled up through the massive structure, the darkness fell away and the nature of the sidewalk traffic changed accordingly. Gone were the neon lights and half-drunk revellers. The people here had more purpose in their stride and the businesses at street level took on a more dignified tone.

  They came to a halt behind a long row of vehicles. Uniformed patrolmen, mostly from the larger races, were keeping the center of the street clear, but the reason was not immediately obvious. Everyone leaned close to the windows in an attempt to see what was happening but saw only empty asphalt and a growing line behind them.

  “That’s right,” Chelak smacked his forehead in a very human gesture of self disgust. “They warned us about this on the vid last night. T
he Kholarii – the natives – have registered a permit for a protest march this morning. I should have taken the central riser. We’re stuck here for at least a half hour now.”

  As Tommy explained to his crewmates, the sounds of a distant mob became apparent somewhere ahead of their vehicle. An amplified voice, too indistinct to make out the words, spoke for a few seconds followed by a swelling roar of approval. An officer rode by at slow speed on what looked like a jet-ski fitted with a mag lifter array. In his wake, the green traffic line markers to his right and far left turned red, leaving two green lines in the center lanes.

  “You don’t want to get caught crossing a red line, believe me,” Chelak warned Tommy. “Doesn’t matter if you’re driving or walking, just stay away from red traffic lines.” He gazed out the right side of the vehicle and his face lit up. “Look, ‘MoonSilver’, the best brand in fifteen systems.” He released his restraint harness, opening his door at the same time. “I’m going to get us something to drink.” He slid down to the pavement. “You’re in for a real treat!” he said, shutting the door.

  “Where’s he running off to?” Harry watched as Chelak headed for the door of a business, its sign showed a relief carving of a pockmarked moon.

  Tommy looked at the characters in a band around the image which proclaimed the establishment to be ‘MoonSilver – Fine Beverages’. “I… think it’s some kind of café,” Tommy answered. “He said he was getting us something to drink. Sign says they sell stimulants.”

  “Huh,” Kale grunted. “Think they have something like coffee here?”

  “They probably have something on this planet with caffeine,” Bernie hit the button to open the window on the sidewalk side. Fresh air poured in, along with the sound of the approaching mob, now suddenly twice as loud. “It’s a relatively common compound in plants – acts as an insecticide which is why you find it in tea leaves.” He looked around the vehicle at the surprised faces. “We did a case study on the coffee industry when I was doing my MBA.” His voice took on a lecturing tone. “You gotta know the background of any business before you invest.”