Chaos Quarter: Imperial Ambitions

by David Welch

  “I do not understand,” she said.

  “Neither do I,” Jake replied. “But to some people it makes sense.”

  “Tell her I want to buy it.”

  For the next five minutes Jake haggled with the woman, her frantic voice dueling with the robotic translation coming out of his speaker. They finally settled on five silver bits, and Second walked away with a new jacket and a small smile on her face. Jake wondered if she even understood why she smiled, but decided it wouldn’t matter all that much if she did. Happy was happy.

  They drifted on some more, coming to a stall selling what appeared to be cheap jewelry. Second seemed mildly amused by it. Jake was hanging back, not really the jewelry type, when something caught his eye.

  He turned his head, spotting a man about ten yards away, separated by a sea of people moving about. The man stood out from the crowd. He was no Uriankhai. He had paler skin and a light tan, comparable to Rex’s. His eyes were wider and he lacked the mustaches that were so popular among the native men. It was clear he was a foreigner, and he seemed to be paying them an unusual amount of attention.

  Jake turned away, wondering if the stare had just been one of the thousands he had received, being a cyborg and all. They moved to the next stall. He flipped the vision of his left eyes to the rear camera built into the back of his head. He saw behind him and saw the foreigner following them. The foreigner kept back, but his eyes never left Jake and Second.

  More than curiosity, Jake thought. His concern was confirmed a second later when he saw another face behind the stall, a standout. Like the first this guy’s skin was a shade lighter than the natives, and his eyes far too round to be a local. He had a beard, unlike the first guy, and looked a good deal younger.

  The second foreigner suddenly froze, his eyes meeting Jake’s. He furtively scurried behind a nearby tent that smelled of grilled meat. No doubt remained; they were being followed.

  “Second, I think we should head back to the ship,” he said quietly.

  Second looked up from a box full of plastic bracelets, frighteningly bright and gaudy. She looked at him with a puzzled expression.

  “We have not seen a quarter of the marketplace,” she replied.

  “I know, but I think it would be best—”

  “Thief!” came the cry from the throat of the first foreigner.

  The crowd stirred; people looked around to locate the cause of the commotion. The foreigner who made the cry pointed directly at Jake, an angry look on his face.

  “Kalathax, stand down or I will be forced to put you down!” cried the man.

  Kalathax? That didn’t even sound like a name, what was this guy smok—

  “You are wanted by the Drake Company for theft, assault, and attempted murder. Surrender now and we may consider sparing your life!” the man declared. He had a gun in his hands now, pointed directly at Jake. Jake didn’t feel terribly scared by this as the man’s pistol had no chance of penetrating his body plating. But a missed shot could get Second or one of the many innocent people still clustered around them.

  “Look buddy,” said Jake, “I don’t know who you are or who you think I am—”

  “I am not interested in your excuses,” the man said coldly. Jake noticed that despite his declaration and the gun in his hand, the man was not advancing. A glance out of his rear camera showed that his friend, the other foreigner, was drawing no closer either. If they were cops or bounty officers they sure were taking a hands-off approach.

  It was then that a small group of figures pushed their way through the crowd. They were locals, police by the look of the guns in their belts and the identical sashes across their chest.

  “What is the cause of this?” the lead cop asked in Tuvan.

  “This man is wanted by the Drake Company,” said the foreigner in perfect Tuvan.

  “I am wanted for nothing. This idiot thinks I’m somebody named ‘Kalathax,’” countered Jake.

  “He is Kalathax. I’ve followed him for weeks and finally tracked him here,” the foreigner asserted.

  “And who might you be?” asked the lead cop.

  “I am Grith of the Drake Company. The despot of Eduil has issued an arrest order for this man. He’s stolen data from him on multiple occasions,” Grith explained. “And hurt people doing it.”

  “Is that so?” the cop asked, keeping a neutral tone.

  “No,” replied Jake firmly. “I have no idea where Eduil is. I’m Cyberdani, as you can plainly see.”

  “He is lying,” Grith said simply. From the steadiness of his voice, and the apparent confidence in his tone, Jake couldn’t tell if he really believed what he was saying, or whether he was just a skilled bullshitter.

  “Well, we will solve nothing here,” said the cop. “The people come to the market to shop, not to find themselves in the crosshairs. Both of you will accompany me to the station.”

  “You do not trust my word?” said Grith, looking angered. “Your own council of Khans has called on us to fight—”

  “To fight in space, yes,” said the cop, eyes narrowing. “They have never called on you to enforce the law. They call on us for that.”

  Grith grumbled, but said nothing, and put his gun away. Jake relaxed a little, but made no move to resist. Last thing they needed was a running battle between him, the Drake Company mercs, and the local police in a crowded public place. Next to him stood Second, with another confused look on her face.

  “You okay, Second?” Jake asked.

  “Going with them will conflict with returning to the ship,” she noted.

  “Yeah. But we’re going with them all the same,” Jake said.

  “But you are not Kalathax,” she pointed out.

  “Doesn’t matter, Second. We’ll just get this thing straightened out and then get back to the ship,” Jake explained.

  “Hmm…” she said, clearly deep in thought over the matter. The cop didn’t seem obliged to give her time to think it over.

  “I said all of you, now. Let’s go.”

  ***

  Rex felt his head swim a little as he walked down the main hallway of the terminal. The airag had left him a little buzzed, and the khuushuur had left him absolutely stuffed. For nearly three hours they had eaten, drank, and talked though the interpreter. And after all of that Rex finally had his missiles.

  He couldn’t blame them for being hospitable, though he kind of suspected it had all been because of the size of his purchase. He’d gotten the impression that people usually might buy one missile at a time, maybe two, but not six. Oj-songu’s excitement had been palpable the entire meeting, despite his gamely attempts to keep the conversation off business until the very end.

  Rex didn’t mind the man making a payday. The price for the missiles was good, and by tonight they’d be loaded safely into Longshot. The ship would be rearmed, and they’d be on their—

  “It’s you again,” a female voice said.

  He paused, seeing a familiar red-haired woman emerge from a nearby office. It was the woman he’d seen earlier. She smiled happily.

  “Yes, it’s me,” he replied. “Not entirely sure who you are.”

  She sidled up next to him. Rex blinked, taking in the delicate features of her face; then came the graceful, thin swoop of her neck; and then the pronounced curves of her…figure. There was something about them…her…about her. Maybe it was just lust pretending to be something more, but he couldn’t be sure.

  “No, I suppose we didn’t get to properly meet. I’m Vermella,” she said, extending a dainty hand. He took it in his gently, like some debonair man at a fancy ball. He wasn’t sure why he did that; something about it just felt right. Something about her just felt right. Not being one to fall in love at first sight, he tried to mentally shake off the attraction. It was understandable that his defenses were down, given that the last woman he’d been with had been Chakrika, ten whole months ago—a long time—long enough for her to give up prostitution, fall in love with Lucius, and marry him. Hi
s dry spell was older than Chaki’s marriage. A streak like that had a way of weakening a man.

  “Vermella…you own that little scout ship?” he said.

  “That’s mine,” she chirped. “And you got that Terran freighter, right? I thought I saw you walk out of it.”

  “Yeah, that’s me,” he heard himself say, not sure why he was saying so. Maybe it was the smile…it made her look so trusting.

  “Now I hope you don’t mind me asking,” she said, placing a soft hand on the small of his back and starting them toward the tarmac door,” but that’s got to be a Dariel Combine ship, right? I’ve seen them come out this way occasionally, never one as new as yours mind you. But still, you can always tell a Dariel.”

  “They do make a good ship,” he replied.

  “Can I tell you a secret?” she asked as they stepped out onto the tarmac. Rex felt her arm slip through his, brushing right up against the gun under his jacket. But he didn’t mind. Her arm felt right there, soft and comforting…he knew it was just hormones and loneliness talking, but he didn’t care. Heck, he’d met Chakrika by hiring her for sex and the illusion of emotion, and she’d gone on to become one of his best friends. So it would be imprudent of him to just cast this woman aside…yeah, that was it.

  “What secret is that?” Rex asked.

  “Well…I’ve never actually seen the inside of a Terran ship,” she admitted, rolling her eyes playfully. “I know, I know! ‘She’s just some backward hick girl!’ Guilty as charged.”

  He chuckled, finding himself amused by her self-consciousness.

  “Well, I suppose we can’t let that stand,” he declared. “But that gun I feel on your hip, that’s gotta wait outside.”

  “My gun…oh. Umm…is that negotiable?” she said, pressing herself a little closer to his side. He was sorely tempted to let it pass, but good sense was good sense.

  “Sorry. I must insist,” he replied.

  She sighed and then pulled the gun from her hip. She handed it butt first to Rex.

  “Just so you know you can trust me,” she declared. “Besides, it could be months before another Dariel shows up on this rock.”

  He took the small pistol, a .38 from the look of it, and slid it into one of his coat pockets. They strolled up to the rear of the ship, stopping about forty yards back. Rex lifted up his right hand, talking to his wrist console.

  “Open her up,” he commanded.

  A mechanical groan filled the air as the ramp doors slowly descended. It took thirty seconds or so, and then the cargo bay was exposed. They walked into it.

  “And this is the majority of my ship,” Rex said with a wave. “Just a big ol’ empty space.”

  “Quite big,” she replied as they moved across the cargo bay. She paused momentarily where the chaises and fire bowl were set up. “Big enough for a good time I see.”

  “Got to do something to keep things interesting out there,” he declared.

  “Funny you should say that,” she said, pressing herself a little closer against him. Rex noticed a slight twitch of the skin at the base of her neck, just above the collarbone. “I’m the kind of girl who likes to keep things interesting. And nice as this ship is, I’m wondering if there is anything else you can do to keep me…interested.”

  He felt a wave of warmth wash over him followed by a familiar stirring in his lower body. Something about her scent had his mind all foggy, like he was some damn teenager again. Not that he really minded the feeling. It actually kind of surprised him that he could still feel that blind rush and want to forget all his better judgment. It was invigorating really, enough to make his spine tingle and his stomach go all loopy. Staring down into Vermella’s eyes, he struggled to keep himself from kissing her.

  “So…uh…what is it that interests you?” he managed.

  “Oh, I think you can figure it out,” she answered. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his, ending his struggle before he could fold like a cheap suit. Her lips tasted delicious. He stood locked with her for a long moment, lost in the rush of lust washing over him.

  “Now, I think I’m going to need a more comfortable place if this is going to get any more interesting,” she said.

  “I think I can help with that,” he said, breathing quickly to inhale to her enrapturing scent.

  “Then lead the way,” she whispered into his ear.

  He moved without thinking, his body burning more and more with every step. They were up the cargo bay stairwell and onto the main floor in seconds, Rex nearly running to his quarters. Vermella giggled girlishly at this as she followed, jogging to keep up.

  He waved the door open and the two stepped in, breathing heavily. Vermella gazed about with a guilty expression, like they were two kids worried about being caught.

  “Must have missed your crew,” she said, her fingers working the buttons of his coat.

  “The only other person on board is asleep,” he replied. “We’re all alone.”

  “Mmm…good,” she said, pressing her mouth to his again. Rex pulled her tight against him, relishing the feel of her soft curves up against his body. She pulled off his coat and began pulling at his shirt. Clothes flew, the shedding of them breaking their fierce kisses for split seconds before the two dove back in on each other.

  Finally Vermella broke the kiss, fighting for breath. Sweat trailed down their foreheads, and they hadn’t even gotten into bed yet. She pulled back slightly and pushed lightly against his sternum. Rex “fell” backward on the bed, bouncing a few times on impact. He smiled lustily up at Vermella as she straddled him. He could barely see her, as if she was blurring around the edges, slipping into soft focus. It didn’t matter though; his hands found her breasts easily enough.

  Were he not so addled with lust, he would’ve noticed the change in her appearance. The sexy smile faded, replaced by an emotionless, all-business look. Her hand grasped him, stroking him until stiff. But the motions were perfunctory, lacking any subtlety or softness. But he didn’t care or notice. He was busy groping, drinking in the magnificent curves of her body, the taut stiffness of her nipples, the wet snugness of her—

  He gasped. Suddenly, she was on him. Her walls tightened around him, and she began rotating her hips. Again there was a mechanical simplicity to the motions, and again he didn’t care. His mind was a fuzzy, lusty fire, growing ever hotter with each passing moment. His eyes noticed a faint twitching to the base of her neck, but his mind was too drunk to pay much attention to it. Moments later his brain blanked entirely, all available blood rushing to his groin.

  When it was over, she dismounted, cleaning herself with his discarded shirt. But Rex didn’t move. His mind kept swimming as if the ground under him was seesawing about. The scent of her clung to him, like a cloud just above his skin, one he couldn’t break through. He didn’t want to break through. He wanted to lay there, forever, naked and waiting for her to return.

  Her…her, who was she…Vermella! Vermella! God he loved that name. He repeated it over and over again in his mind, carving it into his brain for all time.

  “Well, you’re not going to be much good for a while,” she said. “I’m going to go find your sleepy friend. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “No…” he heard himself whisper, “No…”

  ***

  “…if Kalathax is not turned over to us relations between our company and your government will suffer. Lord Kerwood does not forget those who harbor his enemies. Given that this mechanical man tried to kill one of his closest friends—”

  “I tried to kill nobody,” an exasperated Jake interjected from his seat. They’d been in the blocky, redbrick police station for a half hour now. This “Grith” character was insistently repeating his accusations again and again, but didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. Jake still couldn’t believe he was here in the first place. At least Second was staying quiet. Whether out of confusion at the whole thing or because she was smart enough to know when she was out of her element Jake couldn’t say. He was just gratef
ul she was letting him handle it.

  Grith sneered and continued, “Given that he tried to kill one of Kerwood’s closest friends and confidants—”

  “Yeah, I know. You’ll never work with us again; you said that already,” interrupted the city chief in practiced English. He was a large man by the name of Ugaannyg-ool, which Jake’s translators told him meant “wise boy.” He found that odd as there was no way this guy could be mistaken for a boy. He was nearly six feet tall and almost as wide, more a wall of muscle than a person. And while his size could certainly intimidate, the shrewd glare in his eyes was what got Jake’s attention. “Wise Boy” was clearly no fool.

  “This is no light matter,” Grith said in response.

  “Hmm…” said Ugaannyg-ool. ”You say that, yet I have just received word that the Drake Company may have met with an unfortunate end one system over. If such is the case, why should I sit here and listen to your not-so-veiled threats?”

  “You listen to any rumor that comes in from space?” said Grith with a dismissive wave. “Meaningless talk. The consequences for your government—”

  “Is something that will be decided by the Kha-Khan and the Council,” said Ugaannyg-ool. “…Should they ever hear word of this.”

  “‘Should’?” Grith asked.

  “Yes, ‘should.’ I am an officer of the law, and our law demands evidence must be presented before a man is stripped of his freedom. You accuse this…” Ugaannyg-ool paused, looking Jake over for the tenth time since they had stepped into the station, “…this man of theft and attempted murder. You provide no evidence of it. And who or whatever he may be, he has done nothing since arriving on Atrebar that could be called criminal.”

  “You would let a known criminal walk over a question of jurisdiction?”

  “‘Known.’ A funny choice of word, since neither this man nor the name you call him, ‘Kalathax,’ has ever been heard of before,” said the chief.

  “As I’ve been saying, my name is Jake Gaderi,” said Jake.

  “Beyond this world—” Grith began.