The volume rose as he stepped out on a small balcony which looked down on a freedancing zone. People dressed in the latest fashions – some barely covering the essentials – floated through the air and moved to the entrancing rhythm. Steo didn’t keep up with popular music but the pulse was unmistakable and spellbinding.
Warm smoke floated up from the floor, and cold fog drifted down from the ceiling. Dazzling beams lit the clouds. Sparks lingered in the air.
A variety of species mingled in the dazzling lights, pulling and pushing one another. A glow-worm almost four feet long, probably somebody’s pet, happily wiggled through the open air. Steo was surprised to see one of the winged, white-furred rodivis soaring through the dancers. He thought this world was too warm for them.
Balconies edged the freedancing zone. Since Steo’s was only connected to the back areas, it was probably for maintenance. Below him, customers stood at the rails watching the action. If you could get in to see it, freedancing made the best people-watching, and the balconies were packed.
Many had their eyes on a girl with purple skin and multicolored hair glittering in the lasers. The tirrian trailed ribbons while twirling in the zone. Unfettered by gravity, she could perform moves otherwise impossible. People pointed when she did a flip like a synchronized swimmer.
Steo didn’t feel at home, but he knew whose home this was. He left the balcony and trooped through the backstage areas. Soon he found a door blocked by guards. The door looked organic, as if made of dark green leaves and vines, with pale magenta blossoms.
Aha, he thought.
“The Reader said let me in.”
A guards pressed a button and the vines unraveled, revealing a corridor. Steo marched in like he knew his way. The walls alternated pics of the beautiful people that had been in the club. Some were famous in several solar systems.
He came to a translucent plastic door. He waved his hand over a colored pad and heard a ring inside.
A deep female voice said, “If you got this far you’re already invited in.”
He waved his hand again and the door slid quietly open. A gentle fragrance like new blooms greeted him.
Inside was a luxurious apartment with a lot of breathing space. Giant pillows in every color lay in piles around the floor. Suggestive paintings covered the walls. When he looked away they seemed to shift subtly. The sound of slow, babbling water mixed with the distant, dull beat of the energy club. There were several bars.
Amidst the pillows, lying in a sultry pose was Slank, the owner of Eroteme?.
Slank was a croymid. Her ears were long, pointed and pierced with many barbells. She had gray-green skin and black hair tied back in a tail. Her hairline grew so low on her forehead that there was barely a gap between her eyebrow and her hair. Slank wore a loose, yellow peasant blouse that barely contained her abundant display of flesh. Her chocolate-colored skirt was a wrap with the fold in front. She didn’t wear shoes and her manicured toes wriggled. She smiled, revealing crooked teeth in a wide mouth, reaching almost ear-to-ear.
Slank purred in a low voice, “Welcome back to Nibs, Steo. It’s been a while. Care for a nibble?”
“A lot of people like novorians as guards, Slank,” Steo said as he entered the room. “But they don’t make better decisions than anyone else.”
Slank shrugged, a strap sliding off one rounded shoulder. “They keep out the riffraff. Not to say I ever mind seeing you luv, but do you always arrive unannounced?”
“I honestly apologize,” Steo said. “Circumstances dictate I stay off public scanners for a while. Mind if I …?” he asked, then sat on a barstool.
Slank adjusted a pillow under her ample rear. “Always to business, you. Stay. Take in some entertainment on Nibs. What do you say?”
He lifted his hands. “I can’t. Really. Thanks though.”
“Illuminate me. What’s so pressing?”
“I don’t want to endanger you.”
“You mean you’re the galaxy’s finest infosurgent so you know the value of information. You don’t trust anyone anymore.”
“Well …” Steo said.
“You only trust yourself. Are you always going to run around the lone hero?”
“No. I suppose not.” He looked at his friend, looked around the exotic room and decided there wasn’t a safer place to talk. Slank frequently swept every room she stayed in for eavesdropping devices.
“Info is like anything. You can’t get some unless you give some, Steo.”
He thought about that. “Yeah, ok.”
She got up. “Ok then. Did you really give the Ecker bombs formula to the Loytz? I have to ask because I haven’t known you to condemn millions of people to their deaths for an ideal before.”
“The job came through Third Assessment,” Steo said.
“Third Assessment?” Slank padded to the bar and poured herself a pink drink.
“A loose group of people who find work for infosurgents. The name comes from what to do when you’re threatened. You can surrender or you can fight. They offer a third assessment: hire someone else to fight for you.”
“Oh, so it was a paying job for once!” Slank exclaimed.
“Yes,” Steo was forced to admit.
“Back to the point,” Slank said as she walked past him and bumped him with her hip. Her perfume was subtle and expensive.
“The Loytz knew the Petid way. They dominate nearby systems. When the Petid economy starts to stagnate, they start bullying a nearby system. They threaten with conventional armed forces and their large arsenal of Ecker bombs. Eventually the Petids find an excuse for war. They attack the ‘enemy’ system and destroy infrastructure, focusing on specific industries. Then they occupy the system. Their own corporations move in and expand into the gap. That boosts the Petid economy.”
“That’s war.” Slank slid back onto the piles of pillows.
“And I don’t get involved in that. It’s how the Petids do it that’s so troubling. They split up families and move people. ‘Children are a privilege’ they say, so they’re put in indoctrination schools and good parents are allowed to visit them.”
Slank sipped from her drink. “Is it true the Petids use mass-sterilization? To reduce population size so that theirs becomes more dominant?”
“Yes, it’s absolutely true! I was close enough to get real-time reports from people in nearby systems. Petids are the worst bullies. Rather than kill, they inflict abuses like that. It’s not even quite torture. Nobody’s going to risk the death of their entire civilization fighting against that.” He paced.
“The Loytz weren’t willing to go to war, they would have been annihilated,” he said. “They didn’t want to surrender either, so they got in contact with Third Assessment. That’s how I got involved.
Spreading information to nearby systems who could do something had no effect. The Carannans, for example. The Petids stay on the gray line of diplomatic morality by not using weapons of mass destruction against civilian populations, and by hiding their unethical actions.”
Her eyes narrowed and followed him.
“But it was going too slow. Time was running out. I couldn’t get the Loytz to take definitive action, so I gave them an incentive: I helped them crack the Petid information networks and get lots of damning evidence, with the promise I would help them also find the formula to the Ecker bombs.”
“Oooh, big payoff,” Slank said with a wink.
“You think I’m running from the Petid Republic? They don’t know I exist. I’m running from my customer, the Loytz.”
“I knew you weren’t a cold-blooded killer.” Slank gave him a toothy smile.
“I gave the Loytz everything they needed. Information, plans, plots, all the dirt. If they use it right, they stay free and maybe the Petid Republic collapses under the weight of truth.”
“That’s not what I heard though,” Slank said.
“I lied to the Loytz. I gave them a false formula. They thought it was real. For science’s sake, Slank!�
�� Steo said, exasperated.
“Don’t let me interrupt a good story.” Slank took a long drink.
“The Loytz threatened the Petid Republic with being bombed out of existence if they didn’t back down. You saw the results on the galactic news relays. The Republic declared war. I thought the Loytz were done for. Then three of the Petid puppet systems went rogue. The Republic can’t crush three rebellions and fight a war at the same time.”
“You lovely, lucky man! This is why I like working with you Steo,” Slank said. “You raise a lot of hell wherever you go.”
“It wasn’t my intent. I think the puppet systems rebelled because they saw the Petid Republic in a moment of weakness. That’s my hypothesis anyway,” He sat back down, a little deflated.
“What do you think will happen out there?”
“I honestly don’t know. The Loytz know the Ecker formula is fake. They know they accidentally bluffed. My guess is they’ll continue the front but back away from angry rhetoric, while they deploy the real information I helped them get. I’ve been watching the new relays and it looks like the puppet states are going to stay independent for a while. Breaking away will cost innocent lives, though.” Steo was nervous that the two sides had come close to war. He didn’t want to say it aloud, even to a friend, but he felt guilty for nearly helping destroy an entire civilization.
“Not according to plan, eh?” Slank asked.
“No,” Steo replied.
“I think what you’re telling me is you don’t have the formula to the Ecker bombs, and even if you did, you wouldn’t sell it. To me or anybody, you sad, delusional fool. But do you think the Loytz will come after you? You’re safe as long as you’re here, but with all due respect – even to my friends – your money won’t last you forever here on Nibs. This place is expensive.”
“They don’t have an assassination corps like the Petids do, if that’s what you mean,” Steo said. “But they might decide to hire someone to catch me and drag me back. They may think I actually have the formula and plan on selling it elsewhere, so maybe they think they can get it and back up their bluff.”
“Or maybe they want to hang you for stiffing them,” Slank offered.
Steo shifted uneasily. “The thought occurred to me. I’ll slip far from their grasp and let them cool off. Maybe for a few years. I have a plan.”
“Yeah, it’s not like that’s the only warrant on your head. Is that why you came to Nibs?”
“Besides leaving a long trail – and of course seeing your cheery, jade face – I’m here to buy something.”
Slank flipped around on her ample stomach. “Something diiirty?”
Steo rolled his eyes. “No. None of your business.”
“Oh, now we’re talking business? Then I might have something for you.” Slank rose and sidled over to him, going into full sales mode. “Though I’m not sure it’s something you can handle.”
Steo made a bored face and leaned back on the bar. He was happy to be off the subject of the past. The future and space awaited him.
She continued. “You know about ultimate forces right? Weapons of mass destruction – nuclear, chemical, biological. Androids, robots disguised to look like people. Computer-controlled starships, genetic manipulation, all that stuff.”
“Yeah. Every civilized system has treaties with their neighbors prohibiting them. Knight-mercenaries make their living being hired out by systems threatened by ultimate forces.”
“Hey, knight-mercenaries are sort of like infosurgents. I mean, at least to the rest of us. Have you ever considered joining a company of them?” she asked.
“No! Their only ideal is payment and their only method is violence. I’ll fly a fine line before I become a paid killer.”
Slank said, “Whoa, calm down. I didn’t mean to trigger any deep feelings.”
Steo had strong opinions about the use of violence. He avoided it and so far that policy hadn’t failed him. It was a moral stance.
“You have to understand Slank, my people have a completely different ethic. We have an ethic, for one. Ex-pirates with a warrant and a shred of legitimacy isn’t the same thing. That’s why the Petid Republic doesn’t get overran by them, they carefully avoid that line. We’re different.”
“Okay, okay. You’ve made your point,” she said. The mention of knight-mercenaries wasn’t an accident.
“Personally, I don’t see the difference between a massive conventional military force and chemical weapons. People die either way, but I see why people get nervous about ultimate forces,” he said.
“That’s what I was talking about. Recently I’ve obtained intelligence about a science vessel named Vadyanika that’s building something along those lines. They’re from this area of the Tarium arm, but they’ve jumped away for privacy. My facts could lead someone to the Vadyanika. What happens then is none of my business.”
“They jumped? How far?”
“About nine days ago they jumped arms,” Slank said, referring to the long FTL jumps ships make to travel from one arm of the galaxy to another. “I know what system they left from, and their jump wasn’t as anonymous as they thought. Of course they could be anywhere in the Percaic arm by now, but they’d have to be utterly paranoid to avoid any detection.”
While Steo thought, Slank talked. “That ship is up to no good. Once they finish whatever they’re building, well, I don’t need to tell you. They could come back to the Tarium arm in one jump and no one would be prepared to stop them. Maybe they mean to mass produce whatever it is.”
“Do you have more?” He was unsure whether he cared about this.
“Here, view this.” She slid a card-sized book on the bar over to him. He flipped on his lee, saw the icon for the book, opened it and began flipping through the images and text. Slank gave him space and went back to her pillow pile.
“It’s not much so far,” Steo said. Then his eyes centered on a name. He stopped cold. “Is this real? The lead scientist is Dr. Spierk?” His breathing got shallow. “I thought that monster was dead.”
“It’s real. There’s enough in there to positively identify him. That’s his ship for sure.”
“The Savior of Yrtria is alive …” Steo whispered. “Who’s behind this? Who would fund a man who butchered an entire population with genetic experiments?”
“Can it be for legal purposes?” Slank asked rhetorically.
Steo’s mind spun. He was excited. She counted on that.
“This is serious stuff, Slank.” Steo flipped through documents. “Humans across the Tarium arm have a knee-jerk reaction to Spierk’s name. If this image is real and you’re caught with it, you’d probably be imprisoned! They might think you’re a sympathizer. You have to unload this. Otherwise the ramifications … I don’t want to imagine.”
“You handle sensitive information. What’s in your black book? Probably way worse than this.” She knew better.
“If this image is real and current, no. I don’t have anything near as bad as this.” He shut off his lee and rubbed his jaw.
With a gleam in her eye she said, “I guess all you would need to take this on would be transportation.”
“Yeah I guess,” he said, distracted. “Hey you’re not giving this away.”
“Oh no no no. I’ll make you a deal. For only 100,000 credits, you can have the whole file plus the latest intelligence. The Percaic arm is barbaric and treacherous, but they take payment for information just the same.”
“You have sources even that far out?”
“Now I do.”
Changing the subject, he said, “Hey do you know any pilots?”
“You can fly, can’t you?” Slank already suspected why Steo was here in Nuzdak and this last bit of info confirmed it.
“Computer assisted like everybody else. I need a real flier though,” Steo said. “Someone with training, experience, instinct.”
“I know everybody Steo. I can get you a pilot. What color eyes would you like him to have?”
Steo mulled it over.
“I was kidding,” Slank said.
“Oh I know. What about a tirrian? On the way in, our ship had one and they seem damned good.”
“Tirrian pilots are the best. I’ll see who I can dig up,” Slank said.
“Thank you,” Steo said. “I’ll be back in a while.”
“Do rush back,” Slank purred as she rolled over on her back.
CHAPTER 7
Kurzia Station
Three broad-shouldered men walked down the street, splashing through filthy water. A reclamation system must have broken, because the space station’s atmosphere was completely artificial. There was no rain or precipitation, only permanent night under a synthetic sky.
They wore utilitarian clothing, mostly neutral colors. Their olive pants were bloused into heavy boots. Hard pads covered their knees and elbows. Their torsos were covered in tight gray vests over contoured armor. Ammunition pouches lined their belts. Hair was short.
Their hands had a bluish tinge. The veins in the leader’s hands were black. The condition, known as g-strain, was an occupational hazard. Guns used grav technology to force beads at high velocity through muzzles. These bursts couldn’t be felt, and had no side effects unless you were around them constantly. After firing a gun millions of times over 80 years of combat though, a mercenary’s hands suffered tissue damage, burst blood vessels. A variety of treatments kept the hands functional, but they looked black and blue.
The leader strode in front. His men scanned in all directions. The leader walked without looking to either side. They were all muscular, but he was solid with no trace of fat. His face wasn’t symmetric anymore. It had been crushed and regrown many times, so his features were muddled. His skin was pocked and scarred. He had spider eyes, a sure sign of an old mercenary.
A stumbling civilian must have been drunk to miss the hulking mercenaries. One of them cleared the way by striking the civilian in the torso, sending him flying into trash. The stunned civilian coughed for breath. The mercenary advanced on him with a killer’s look. He struck the civilian, and a crunch of bone silenced the man.
The Eye of Orion_Book 1_Gearjackers Page 4