The lack of data didn’t have to mean anything. When Athos had been arrested as “D’Artagnan,” they had kept him from pinging his true identity. Records could always be faked, or erased.
Planchet had located the city on Valour where Athos and Grimaud had been most recently, thanks to the salvage records of a ship that had to be the Parry-Riposte.
That gave Dana the idea to track Aramis (and possibly Porthos) via the Morningstar. Planchet was working on it. All in all, it was a lot to keep in Dana’s head. The sensible thing would be to ditch Conrad.
But this thing that the two of them had going, the flirting and the kissing and the hands all over each other, it was more of a distraction to Dana than if they had shagged their brains out already. Getting laid could only simplify things for them both. They could burn it out of their system and get on with their lives. Right?
Conrad was half an hour late. Had he changed his mind?
Dana had flight plans to review and Planchet’s comms to monitor, and what with one thing and another, she was able to distract herself while she waited to find out whether she had been stood up.
The time clicked on toward 20:00 hours, and there was nothing left to review or check. The Fountain of Tranquility was aptly named. For the first time in a week, Dana had absolutely nothing to do. There was something calming about sitting in the shadow of the dramatic rock formation, watching the Artifice water spray in careless, perfect patterns across the shadows and smooth lines.
She would give him another hour. She had nowhere else she needed to be, until tomorrow morning.
Dana fiddled with the studs along her wrist, trailing up her arm to the one she kept near her elbow, covered by the sleeve of her flight suit or fatigues. The Prince Consort’s opal was empty of information, except for a certification-file of authenticity that marked the location and creator of the jewelled stud. It was worth a lot, she knew, even without getting it formally valued.
The Sun-kissed were rising again, and Dana knew she was more likely to get a commission in the Musketeers during wartime. Especially if she could finance her own helm and harness. The opal’s value was equal to a substantial downpayment on a new dart.
Dana’s dream was closer than ever, but it meant nothing without Athos, Aramis and Porthos to share it with.
She heard footsteps nearby, against the quartz pebbles of the nearby avenue, and a wave of warm relief and desire surged through her. He was here. He had come to her, finally.
“Dana D’Artagnan,” said a low, husky voice. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Every warm cell in Dana’s body turned cold, as if the atmosphere had been sucked out of the lunar dome. That was not the voice of Conrad Su.
Instead, a woman approached from the shadows, stepping into the light of the fountain that illuminated the ragged scar that carved through her beautiful face.
It was Special Agent Rosnay Cho, radiating smugness.
This did not look good.
26
Rendezvous at the Fountain of Tranquility
Dana’s body reacted to the other woman’s presence as if they were about to fight to the death, though Rosnay Cho made no move to attack. Instead, the Moth pilot from Meung leaned a hip against the glorious rock formation, as if she had all night for Dana to think up something intelligible to say.
It might take longer than that.
“I suppose we should start with the little tailor that could,” said Ro in that low, confident drawl of hers that had driven Dana to the point of rage back on Meung Station. Now it made her want to curl into a ball of embarrassment. “I’ll admit, I was expecting to find him here with his pants around his ankles. Any thoughts?”
Dana lifted her chin. Oh yes, there was the sting of anger that Ro usually aroused in her. “I haven’t seen him today.”
“Stood you up,” said Rosnay Cho, almost sounding sympathetic. “That’s a damned shame.”
“What are you talking about?” Dana couldn’t be standing here in the Palace gardens having a conversation about her love life with Rosnay freaking Cho. It was impossible. She must have fallen asleep. Spacelag could do that to a person.
“He’s not in the Palace,” said Ro with a brief shrug of her shoulder. “And it wasn’t me who abducted him this time. Bad news for Conrad Su –my orders have always been to keep him alive.”
Dana’s throat caught at that. “You think he’s dead?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea. But nothing short of abduction would have kept him from this cute little dance you two have going.” Ro made a descriptive hand gesture that was just short of filthy. “The Cardinal doesn’t know where he is, the Prince Consort doesn’t know where he is, his wife never knows where he is, and you are here alone, every bit as clueless as the rest of us. That’s a worry, don’t you think?”
Dana gave up on trying to make sense of the fact that Rosnay Cho was here, talking like they were allies. She dropped to the ground, stretching out her legs. Sitting meant she was less likely to lose her temper and punch the special agent in the nose. “Any suspects?”
“One or two ideas,” said Ro, looking down her nose at her. “A rogue agent, most likely.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
Ro joined Dana on the ground, crossing her legs neatly under her as if she sat on garden paths every day of the week. “There’s a subtle form of interrogation that they teach us about at Special Agent Academy. Not sure if you’ve heard of it. It’s called a conversation. I thought perhaps we could have one. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it as we go along.”
Dana searched Ro’s face for some kind of clue as to what was going on here. She saw nothing. Ro met her gaze without hesitation. She did not look or feel like an enemy.
This was wrong on so many levels.
“We’re not friends,” Dana said finally. She couldn’t access the anger she had felt at Ro in the past. The combined loss of Athos, Aramis and Porthos, followed by the revelation that Conrad was missing… it left her numb. But that didn’t mean she was going to be an idiot.
“We don’t have to be friends,” Ro told her. “We’re professionals. Whatever you think of my employer and I, we serve the Crown.”
“The Church,” Dana corrected sharply.
Ro’s smile only widened. “The Church serves the Crown.”
“Does it really?”
“Kid, let’s try to keep the treasonous paranoid conspiracy theories to a minimum, shall we? For once?”
“I haven’t committed treason!” Dana said hotly.
Ro looked at her for a long moment, her smile shifting into something thoughtful and not altogether nice. “That’s good,” she said. “Because I haven’t arrested you for treason. It would be a terrible thing for both of us if we turned out to be wrong.”
A long silence stretched between them. It made Dana’s shoulder blades itch, but it didn’t seem to worry Ro at all. She relaxed into the silence and brought that smile of hers back into play. It should be classified as an intergalactic weapon. “By the way, the trick with the pastries? That was adorable. Amateur as hell, but that’s why it worked. I never saw it coming.”
Amateur as hell shouldn’t be a compliment, but in Ro’s mouth it sounded exactly that – and Dana was struggling to get past the implications of ‘adorable.’ “How much do you know?” she asked finally.
“Oh, buttercup, don’t show your hand too soon,” Ro said, laughing at her with her eyes. “I know more than you’d like me to know about the shit you’ve been up to since you got to Paris. But I know less than I would like. That’s why this conversation is necessary.”
This felt more like a duel than a conversation, and Ro was winning, hands down. “What is it that you really want to say?” Dana demanded. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t want to banter with the bitch who flashburned me unconscious, and stole my ID and credit the first time we met.”
“Interesting attempt to take the moral high ground from the scrappy little cunt that stole my Moth
and abducted my engineer,” said Rosnay Cho, the words coming out as calmly as if she was saying she preferred lemon in her tea. The warmth bled out of her face, leaving her cold and professional. It was an impressive shift. Dana wished she could control her own features so readily. “This is what you need to know, kid: I could have destroyed you by now, if I thought you were a serious threat.”
“Does that mean you don’t think I’m a threat or that you don’t take me seriously?” Dana didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted.
Ro laughed once, a short and sharp sound. “Both, but I can’t help being fascinated by what you’ll do next. It’s like watching a spaceship crash.”
Okay, now Dana knew she was being insulted.
“You’re dangerous,” Ro conceded. “But you’re so bloody new at this, you don’t even know what the rules are. Shutting you down would be like kicking a puppy for peeing on the floor.”
Definitely, thoroughly insulted.
“But if the Cardinal asked you to – shut me down,” Dana pushed. “You would, wouldn’t you?”
Ro looked exhausted. “Her Eminence is not your friend right now, D’Artagnan. But that doesn’t mean she is your enemy. If I were you, I’d make an effort to keep it that way.”
“Milord de Winter,” Dana blurted.
Rosnay Cho’s face went very still. “Go on,” she said. “What about him?”
“He’s one of the Cardinal’s agents, isn’t he? He works with you.”
Having Ro’s full attention was worse than she had imagined. Dana tried not to swallow or blink or reveal in any way how nervous she was in the face of that steely gaze. She didn’t want to provide further entertainment. A puppy that pees on the floor: that’s what she thinks of me.
“I’d classify Milord as freelance, if anything,” Ro said finally. “He’s done work for the Church, some work for the Crown. I’ve never managed to parse his loyalties. He’s ruthless and he’s useful, and he always his own agenda running in the background.”
“Could he be – the rogue agent?” It was a thought that had been in Dana’s head since Ro told her that Conrad was missing. Vaniel de Winter was here; he had been at the Palace last night. Was that a coincidence? Was he really here because of his sister or the Marquise de Wardes? If he knew Dana’s true identity and her previous mission – if he knew as much about Dana and Conrad as Rosnay Cho obviously did –
Ro pressed her lips together, giving the matter some thought. “Do you have any reason to believe that?” she asked finally.
“I met him, that’s all. When I – recently.” She was not going to admit to the matter of the diamonds, not even if the secret agent knew every single detail. “He didn’t know who I was.”
“Oh, buttercup,” said Ro, as if she felt sorry for her. “If you believe that, you’re greener than I thought.”
Dana’s comm trilled. She tapped it, hoping to hear Conrad’s voice.
Instead, Planchet’s voice sounded in her ear. “Chief! I have a location for Porthos now. And a ransom request.”
Dana blinked. “Ransom for Conrad?”
“No, for Porthos. Has Conrad been kidnapped again? Madame Su’s going to be so pissed off.”
“Maybe. Don’t tell her yet. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Flight plan filed?”
“Done and done,” said Planchet, sounding gleeful. “I told the Madame I was going to visit my mother for a week. She threw a wobbly but I let her dock my pay and she cheered up.”
“Good, thanks. Sorry about the pay thing. See you soon.” Dana stood up, stretching her legs. At this rate she was going to have to become a Musketeer purely so she could ensure someone was providing Planchet with a salary. “I have to go.”
“Of course,” said Rosnay Cho, letting her shoulders rise and fall in something like a shrug, but far more elegant. “Find your friends, bring them home. I’m not going to stop you.”
“Why not?” Dana asked.
Ro rose to her feet. “No one’s paying me to stop you, kid. Not yet, at least. Move fast. You never know when that might change.” Her politeness was doing Dana’s head in. Rosnay Cho piled on the surreal by extending a hand towards Dana as if they were respected colleagues.
Dana shook her hand, feeling a tingle of warmth at the connection. Tonight could not get any weirder.
But no, that wasn’t true, because Ro leaned in, brushing her mouth against Dana’s cheek in an intimate gesture that felt a lot like a kiss. “If Milord has your boyfriend,” she whispered near Dana’s ear. “I’m sorry, buttercup, but you’re not getting him back.”
She released Dana’s hand, and walked away across the palace gardens without another word.
“So,” Dana muttered to herself. “That was a thing that happened.”
27
Paying for Porthos
Dana had flown a lot of ships lately that were not hers. The crew shuttle didn’t count, not really. But Rosnay Cho’s Moth and the Parry-Riposte had clawed themselves into her head. In both cases she had been high on stress, terror and excitement –with the Parry-Riposte, she had been dealing with the added pressure of Athos nearly dying and the colossal mindfuck of blending their brains together with nexus to keep the damn boat in the air.
The Hoyden was like a cool breath of lemon-scented oxygen, by comparison. Of course Porthos’ ship would be the most comfortable, inside and out. This was going to be a cruise made of cake.
Getting away from Paris Satellite was the difficult part. Dana had left her digs well before Planchet set out for her “holiday” so that Madame Su did not suspect that Dana was stealing (borrowing!) her mechanic.
Still, the travel pack that she swung over her shoulder apparently smelled of guilt, because Madame Su was out and about suspiciously early, getting in Dana’s face about her comings and goings.
“Hardly here but you’re off again, Mecha Cadet, they work you hard down on Lunar Palais, don’t they?” she said, barring Dana’s path out of the workshop.
“You know all about hard work, don’t you, Madame Su?” Dana replied, polite as anything. She couldn’t afford to lose her temper and give anything away, even if she wanted to shake her landlady and demand to know if she was aware her husband had been kidnapped.
Dana could still feel Special Agent Rosnay Cho’s breath on her cheek as she whispered those last few words to her.
If Milord has your boyfriend, you’re not getting him back.
Damn it, she had no idea where to even start looking for Conrad Su. She needed Athos, Aramis and Porthos back in her corner. They had to be her first priority.
After she finally shook off the suspiciously curious Madame Su, Dana’s next stop was to Amiral Treville. Dana had to report the loss of all three Musketeers and her intention to fetch them back as soon as possible.
Without mentioning the specific details of the mission, such as the diamonds, Buck and Prince Alek, not to mention her own romantic interests, Dana did her best to share what she could with the large, intimidating Amiral. She also confessed about her confusing conversation with Special Agent Rosnay Cho, about Conrad’s disappearance, and the possibility that her landlady was operating as one of the Cardinal’s spies.
Dana was concerned that she sounded like something out of a holo-soap, but Treville nodded and listened and took her seriously.
“Leave the Su matter with me, D’Artagnan,” she said as Dana’s report wound up. “I’ll have a quiet word with his Highness at our next meeting, and we’ll see if we can’t find out what’s happened. Chances are, once this latest kidnapper figures out that the tailor can’t be brain-drained, he’ll be dumped back on the streets. Bring back my Musketeers, and we’ll reconvene in a week or so to pool our findings.”
Dana smiled at that, comforted by Treville’s confidence. “You don’t think they’re dead?”
“Dead drunk, maybe,” Treville scoffed. “Not one of those three would give me the satisfaction of coming to a bad end. They’ll be the death of me, more likely. You, though, kid,
” she added with a rare smile as she issued another travel pass and credit transfer to D’Artagnan for the journey: for ransoms, medibay bills and expenses that the three Musketeers might have incurred. “I have a feeling you may outlast us all.”
Now Dana was at the helm of the Hoyden. She allowed Planchet to fasten her into the harness, opening her mind to the smooth inner workings of the ship.
Please enjoy this flight. I know we’ll be splendid together.
Dana hadn’t known what to expect from Porthos’ ship computer; with a name like Hoyden she hadn’t expected a voice like warm marmalade and an encouraging, paternal air.
That’s right, pet, you’re doing wonderfully, the ship added as she pulled them out of the dock and into open space. What reflexes! I am impressed.
It was embarrassing how nice it felt to have the ship praise her, even though she knew it was an egotistical quirk of programming. She was going to have to tease Porthos about it, and the thought of that made Dana grin all over her face. “Let’s look at those ransom demands,” she said once the flight was underway and the ship’s glowing compliments had eased off to a gentle, encouraging murmur.
Planchet tapped her clamshell and called up the text exchange to one of the Hoyden’s navigation panels so Dana could read it easily.
987ss3Xunknown - To retrieve Capt Porthos: Chantilly Station, Grand St Martins, Room 308. Bring 1500 credits.
029PlanchetCS - May we speak directly to Capt. Porthos or Eng. Boniface to confirm their location and identity?
987ss3Xunknown - Planchet don’t be an idiot this is B. Do you have the funds? Lives & sanity may depend!
029PlanchetCS - We’ll be there. What is the status of Captain P? 987ss3Xunknown - She’s driving me up the fucking wall, that’s her status.
Musketeer Space Page 25