Movement again. It was undeniable.
She wasn’t alone.
The decision of whether to speak didn’t reach her executive functions.
“You,” a hoarse voice said. Male. Human—probably. “Awake yet?”
Brenna thought about her response. Any word from her would give this entity a hint into who and what she was. But she needed info too and decided to play along, send out a pawn to see if it would be taken or tolerated.
“Yes,” she said. Her voice, like the other’s, sounded hoarse, raspy.
“You’ll have questions. For the sake of conversation, call me Lutes.” The voice spelled out each letter slowly, deliberately.
Brenna considered the pattern of his speech and recognized it, the spelling out of his name giving him away. It wasn’t protocol, but outsiders wouldn’t recognize it. Brenna did. She admired the subtlety.
She was dealing with experience.
GTU experience.
“Lutes,” she said, “all the Ws.”
“When: You’ve been here a day at most. Time’s difficult to track currently, to be more accurate. Where: couldn’t possibly guess. Who: seems to me it’s a Host-affiliated ship. You’ll learn more soon enough, I’m sure. I didn’t have to wait long after waking before it came for me.”
“Kidnapped?” Brenna asked.
“Yes. False distress signal.”
“En route?”
“Yes.”
Same situation as hers, then. Whoever had taken them had planned this ahead of time and knew the destinations of two different GTU agents, both of whom didn’t know the plans of the other.
“It’ll hurt at first,” Lutes said. “But the pain doesn’t last long… their methods are sophisticated.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I think… I can’t be sure, maybe three days. You want to know who they are and what they want. I’m still trying to figure that out myself. They use shrains for interrogation. Their questions seem to be AI driven. They’re abstract. Make little sense. I don’t know what, if anything, they’ve learned from me.”
Shrain… this wasn’t good. Brenna thought of her task at Protsima II. The handler there, according to Lopek, was also a shrain entity. But the ships she saw before the kidnapping looked nothing like shrain technology or Host.
“Is the shrain interrogator the only entity you’ve come into contact with?” Brenna asked.
“Yes. It’s been the same vehicle each session. Who knows what’s going on in their chip minds, though? Could be a different entity each time.”
“Any patterns or theme to their questions?”
“It's difficult to say," Lutes said, grunting as he shifted on the cot. "At the time it seems entirely logical, but after… it's as if they've scrambled, or altered, my memories, so it all seems like disconnected gibberish. You start to doubt your own mind."
“Are you hurt?”
“No. Just a little sore from sleeping on the cot. Soft furnishings don’t appear to be their forte. They’ve fed me well, treated an old injury, and kept the interrogation sessions short. It’s unusual. Sometimes, during the questioning, I feel like I don’t want to leave. They do something—could be drugs or some kind of subconscious programming—that makes you happy, content almost. Until you wake up here and reality seeps back in again.”
“Have there been any others besides me?” Brenna asked.
“One,” Lutes said, the tone of his voice dropping half an octave. “They were here when I arrived. We didn’t get a chance to speak before they… well, the stains show their suicide.”
“Who were they? Human? Coalition?”
“A second-order human from what I could tell. Not sure where from or what side they were affiliated with. I suppose Coalition considering the shrain seem to be in league with the Host forces these days, but it would be inaccurate to say for sure.”
Brenna leaned back against the smooth wall and brought her knees up for warmth. Her heart rate was edging out of the normal zone. Subspace anxiety itched at the periphery of her mind, fogging her thinking.
“What’s your name?” Lutes asked.
“Concita,” Brenna said, using one of her backup IDs. She doubted Lutes was the other man’s real name either.
“They get you on a mission?”
“I answered a distress call,” she said, not committing to answering the question directly. For all she knew, he could be part of the interrogation. He was right about one thing: the shrain were sophisticated. And without seeing him up close and in full light, she decided to play it safe and assume the worst-case scenario.
“Where were you heading?”
“Nowhere in particular,” she said. “Was just heading to the east side of the quadrant to scan for trade opportunities.”
“You should know,” Lutes said, “that you shouldn’t lie to them. It’ll go much easier for you if you cooperate. They’re not barbarians and will work with you if you’re willing.”
“Sounds like you’ve helped them with their inquiries,” Brenna said. “What did you tell them?”
“Like I said, I can’t remember—it’s messed up in my memories. But I know that by resisting, things will only be worse. Why fight them? Perhaps there’s a different way.”
Brenna scowled at Lute’s attitude, hating some imaginary indiscretion against the GTU or the Coalition. Although she couldn’t be sure what he had said, from the sounds of his coping mechanism, he had turned for them and gave them whatever they wanted.
A good GTU agent would die before giving up his or her colleagues.
“You're judging me," Lutes said. "I understand how it seems. But we'll talk again after your first session, and we'll see if you still think the same way."
Brenna didn't have long to wait for the opportunity to learn more. A quiet period of perhaps around fifteen standard minutes went by, and then an invisible door slid almost silently open. White light flooded into the room.
Lutes had already turned to face the wall, so Brenna saw nothing of him other than a gray blanket wrapped around his body.
A shape appeared in the light and moved toward her. It was human-shaped, short and thin. It entered the room and looked at her. “You can call me Sule,” it said.
It appeared as a female human. Shaved head, kind blue eyes, and a subtle, friendly smile. Sule wore a simple outfit of beige trousers and a loose shirt with an open collar. The style didn't indicate which faction or organization she might have been employed by.
Behind the appearance would be a shrain entity that Brenna highly doubted was this friendly or agreeable, but right now she saw no benefit in behaving congruently to that thought.
“I have questions,” Brenna said.
“As do I. Let’s get you out of the restraints and into more comfortable surroundings so we can answer each other’s questions—and to help you recover. I’m sure you’re feeling the usual subspace side effects and could do with a hot meal and a drink. You’ve been asleep for so long. We didn’t want to wake you.”
“That’s… very thoughtful of you,” Brenna said, trying her best to keep the sarcasm from her voice. She knew that Sule knew that Brenna knew this was all a game, but without knowing the rules, she decided to play along as best she could.
She did, however, notice that Sule paid no attention to Lutes and vice versa.
“I’m going to activate your release,” Sule said. “Please don’t resort to violence, it won’t end well, and it’s entirely unnecessary. No harm will come to you.”
The face of an angel and the lies of a devil, Brenna thought.
She couldn't help the cold shiver that slowly slinked up her spine. She'd never come this close to a shrain entity before. The concept of them had always creeped her out, and it was no different being right in front of one.
“I understand,” Brenna said. “Though realize that I will defend myself if required.”
“It won't come to that," Sule said, and smiled. She swiped her hand over a cont
rol surface on her arm, and the restraint clasps opened, dropping to the cot. Sule held out her hands in a gesture of help.
Reluctantly, Brenna took the shrain's hands and got to her feet. Her head spun, and she fell forward, but Sule took her weight and led her out of the room. Brenna briefly considered trying to tackle her and make an escape, but without knowing anything about her location, she decided to bide her time.
An opportunity would come eventually; it always did.
Sule led her down a featureless gray corridor with low lighting. They reached a junction and turned left. Then a further left and a right into a wider hall with a dozen or more doors. Sule stopped at the third on the left, opened it, and gestured for Brenna to enter.
“Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable,” Sule said as she closed the door behind them.
Brenna sat down on a soft-cushioned chair. A table in front of her was resplendent with a wide variety of food and beverages. The smell of coffee wafted toward Brenna. She poured herself a cup, delighting in the warmth as it filled her belly.
Sule sat opposite and waited patiently as Brenna sampled the food.
She doubted there was any risk of poison. They’d have already done that if they so wished; there was no reason to wait until now.
When Brenna was satiated and hydrated, she leaned back against the chair. Although she was still feeling the subspace anxiety, the food and coffee took the edge off.
“So,” Brenna said, leaning her elbows on the table, “I guess we better get to it.”
Sule smiled and stood. “Indeed. But first, as a gesture of goodwill on our part, we have a gift for you.”
Brenna clasped her hands together and steeled herself. “Go on.”
Sule gestured toward a door on the right side of the room. A door opened and a second figure walked through. Brenna's stomach tightened. She began to shake.
It couldn’t be…
“Brenna,” the figure said.
“Kendal?”
Chapter 14
For the final section of the subspace journey to Parsephus, Kai remained mostly in his bunk, trying to get the artifact to display the symbols again, and failing to do so.
However, the feeling of being inexplicably linked to it had only grown stronger. Focusing inward on the object had at times made him think he saw glimpses of the worlds beyond the veil. Great structures and armadas of alien ships whose design defied known convention.
How real or imagined those images were, Kai couldn’t be sure. But one thing was for certain: he knew he would go beyond the veil at some point. A clichéd wise person would likely proclaim in dusty tones that it was his destiny.
Kai believed in no such thing.
He saw the logical extrapolation uncoil before him as a folded paper art puzzle, fold by fold, revealing a hidden image beneath. In all likelihood, the veil would drop eventually, and he would venture into those heretofore-unknown reaches of the galaxy.
For now, though, he had to focus on the job at hand: find Marella Maio.
He'd read the dossier on her, which Lopek had provided. She was Lantesian, thirty-three standard years old, and one of the Coalition's most respected science historians. Assigned to help his father, she later quit her role after he went missing. Lopek's intel had included an entirely redacted message transmitted from a droid market in the capital city of Roldon.
It seemed pretty solid intelligence, but it was a standard month old, and nothing else had been communicated to the GTU about her activities or whereabouts.
This raised the question of what had happened to the agent assigned to her?
And what was in the message to warrant its redaction?
With any luck, Kai wouldn’t have to wait too long to find out. The Piercer had landed on a commercial landing platform on the outskirts of Roldon. Senaya and Bandar were clanging about in the rear of the ship, preparing to leave.
Senaya stepped into the doorway of Kai’s bunk.
“Hey, you ready to go hunting?” she asked, dressed in her familiar multi-pocketed suit, twin laser pistols attached to her belt holsters. She smiled wide and looked refreshed despite the longer than usual subspace jump.
Kai hopped off his bed. “Absolutely. Looking forward to getting some fresh air.”
“You won't find much of that here. Atmosphere reports suggest a high ammonia count. The place is going to stink like rotten eggs. But I've made a solution for that."
She handed him a small facemask that clipped onto the bridge of his nose and covered his nostrils and mouth. He breathed deeply and noticed no loss of air. In fact, it made even the stale carbon-monoxide-scrubbed air of the craft taste sweet and fresh.
“You’re going to be a massive hit in the Engineers Guild,” Kai said.
“Of course. Now get your butt moving. Bandar’s in a foul mood, and I think it’s best not to keep him waiting.”
“I’m not in a foul mood,” Bandar shouted from the rear of the ship. “I’m just eager to find Maio and get on with the mission. A sense of urgency gets stuff done. Now move it.”
Kai and Senaya shared a smile before getting their kit together and following Bandar out of the ship and into the attached transparent tube that would take them into the arrival lounge of the port.
“Here,” Bandar said, “take this.” He handed Kai his precious P&G rifle.
“Thanks,” Kai said.
“I hope you remember how to use it. Come on, let’s get moving.” Bandar cut a swathe through the busy lounge until they came to a security line. The place was darkly lit and run-down. Couches running in rows were full of anxious, fidgeting people. The temperature was a few degrees on the side of too hot, and the décor wore the ravages of time like scars on a vet.
While they waited, they discussed their first task. The hubbub of the hundreds of other arrivals gave them an audible cover for their plans.
The dawn-gray light barely filtered through the dirty windows, giving the world a monochrome look and feel. Kai wondered how many visitors just ended it all right here, unable to face the utter grayness of it all.
“I hope the information was right,” Kai said, “and all this standing around will be worth it.”
“The intel,” Bandar said, “indicates Maio communicated with someone off-world about a month ago. Used the name of Lexis Drey. We’ll find something, I’m sure.”
“Aye, we both read that,” Kai said. “But the message was blacked out. What did it say?”
“Just some soppy shit to a loved one.”
“Why the redaction, then?”
“Standard protocol for private, personal messages.”
“And how would you know?” Kai asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Higher clearance, kid.” Bandar glared at him and reminded Kai of who he was.
Senaya stepped closer after giving a tall alien a dirty look. “Couldn’t it have been coded?”
Bandar shrugged. “Unlikely. The boys and girls in the decryption squad would have seen something. We’ll find out more when we discover the location of the market.”
Kai turned the artifact over in his palm within the pocket of his army surplus jacket. It felt dangerous bringing it with him, but he couldn’t face leaving it behind in case anything happened to the ship. Thieves and pirates were everywhere these days.
Their line shuffled forward. Kai yawned loudly and received an annoyed look from a fellow human among the group of weird and wonderful Coalition species. The clicks, whistles, and barks of a hundred languages sang a song of cooperation and shared boredom.
Nearly half a standard hour later, they had finally gotten through arrivals and out into the capital proper. A harsh chill whipped through Kai’s jacket, robbing him of precious body heat. The air did stink, as Senaya had said. The mask went on right away.
Bandar didn’t bother, of course. Kai suspected he had smelled far worse.
The city rose up before them as they stepped across the crystal walkway, their steps treading across millions of others
before them, each one scuffing the once-clear surface, creating a cataract of transience.
Buzzing above them like flies, personal gyrocraft flittered into and around the city’s towers and buildings as if in search of some rare pollen. Two blue ones, with flashing amber lights, chased another up and around the skeletal spires that had at one point been the center of the system’s financial district.
“Look at those spires. Like the remains of some long-lost giant animal,” Senaya said. “Amazing. It’s a shame they won’t rebuild them.”
“The economy was ruined years ago,” Bandar said. “Same deal with the abandoned stations up there.”
Thick gray cloud cover prevented them from seeing the famous orbiting space stations. Decaying, wireframe models of a once prosperous nation, they were a reminder than even during boom times, there was always a loser somewhere in the Coalition.
Economics was a zero-sum game for certain organizations.
Despite that, the city still thrummed. Grubbier and more desperate than before, according to the datapak, it still had much to offer if you looked in the right places.
After a few minutes of navigating through a throng of pedestrians, they came to a hole-in-the-wall drinks dispensary. “Wait here a second,” Bandar said. “I need a drink.”
He stopped and ordered something incomprehensible from a flange-faced, sweaty biped whose species Kai couldn't identify. The creature handed Bandar a steaming mug of something rancid. The old soldier downed it in one gulp, shivering before swiping his wrist across the payment module.
“I don’t suppose they do coffee?” Senaya asked.
Flange-face grunted something. Green mucus bubbled from one of its many nostril-like apertures. A slimy pseudopod arm slid out from somewhere behind its head and indicated to a menu board hanging on rusted chains above the opening in the wall.
The writing was gibberish to Kai, but even from a flange-faced shape-changer, body language was telling.
“I’d take that as a no,” Kai said.
“I can see this is going to be an awful experience.”
Blackstar Command 1: Prominence Page 11