“Shhh!” Ariadne whispered fiercely. “Technically, it was an academy, not a base, and now it’s not even either, you ninny. It’s strictly a pilot’s school, completely open to the public.”
“That’s what they say to the public, but what sort of pilot’s school has ranks?” I demanded, forgetting to dry my hair.
“Look,” Ariadne said, getting up in my face. “I don’t care what your opinion is of the military. I don’t care what the public thinks of the military. They protected us and I was more than honored to go to school here. I’m a better pilot than any commercially-taught U.C. lackey could ever think to be because I was trained for combat. They also taught me how to fight that fancy martial arts stuff that saved our butts on Myrkheim, so take that!”
I blinked in surprise.
“I have no problem with the military. My brother was a corporal before the media forced him and his whole division out. The military gave him a safe place to be, as ironic as that sounds, and I would have followed him if I could,” I said quietly. “I just have a problem that we broke into a military base. Won’t that be, I dunno, treason or something?”
The princess’ eyebrows went up in a motion that was a little surprised, a little confused, and just a touch embarrassed.
“Oh,” she said, still processing what I’d said. “OH. No, it’s not treason. Firstly, this place calls itself a civilian pilot’s school, so they can’t make a big deal of it with the media watchdogs on their case and secondly, if anyone shows up, I know the commandant. He’d let us stay and rest even if he knew we were here.”
“Whew,” I sighed in relief, laughing just a little.
Ariadne grinned.
“You’re all right, Marcie Dunn.”
“I could say the same to you, Ariadne King,” I said, grinning.
A thought suddenly struck me.
“If you were trained for combat piloting, how’d you nearly hit an entire space station after we left Earth?” I put my hands on my hips to demand an answer.
The princess blinked at me.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she said, and dashed off.
I was a little too unsettled to enjoy a comfortable shower, despite the fact that I was covered nearly head-to-toe in mud. After drying off and partaking in a quick snack from a nearby vending machine, I tried to figure out what our next move would be. At the moment, we were lacking everything. Our ship, our quarry, our chance for actually getting out of debt, and any respect we might have had in the skiptracing community. My dried algae flakes tasted like overly salted sadness.
Of course, we had two options: admit defeat, turn in our skiptrace license as failures, and go find jobs that normal human beings would take like managers, repairmen, and organic nurses. The second option was to re-capture the Lees and try to salvage our current career paths. I tried to figure out how we could accomplish that as I set my favorite jeans out to dry.
I swore loudly as I realized the shock device was no longer safely tucked into my pocket, surmising it must have fallen when I slipped outside. There was no real way I was going back outside to get it in the pouring rain with a whole bunch of blackguards chasing us. Just another setback to add to the list.
I stretched out across a bench that ran in front of the metallic lockers, musing how things had gone so completely wrong so quickly. I wouldn’t necessarily mind a normal job. Actually, it would probably suck. Yes, I could pass myself off as an organic nurse, but tending houses with the sniffles all day seemed anticlimactic. To be honest, I kind of enjoyed the skiptrace life. It was a familiar challenge I’d been baptized into after my brother’s death and it didn’t just use one of my skills, like organic nursing would, it used most if not all of them. My head for strategy, my problem-solving skills, my ability to give as good as I get, and even my mediocre acting ability were useful to skiptracing.
Plus I was still technically in Ariadne’s debt and would forever be in said debt if I became an entry-level organic nurse. I could always work for the princess in her parcel delivery job, as long as Ottoman and Set hadn’t completely wrecked the Lilstar. How many years would it take to pay off radiation therapy on that salary?
I sighed defeatedly and sat up, and Ariadne took that as an impetus to slap the back of my head soundly.
“C’mon now,” I said miserably, crossing my arms defensively.
“While I can technically start up my parcel business at any time, given the fact that I can now access my bank accounts, you’re still broke,” Ariadne said, sitting across from me, producing a medical kit. She took off the old, tattered, and rain-soaked bandage that held my nose together and replaced it. I muttered a thank you, feeling somewhat sorry for myself.
“Quit acting like a child,” the princess rolled her eyes at me. “It’s not like you haven’t already captured the two twerps anyway. All we need to do is do that again.”
“You make it sound like it’s easy.” I said. “I feel completely stuck like the floor is nothing but organic waste from the Lilstar. Anywhere I turn I’m getting nowhere.”
“Don’t make me slap the front of your head, especially with that nose,” Ariadne said. She seemed to be far more confident and comfortable than I was, something I attributed to the familiar surroundings. This was the beginning for her, where she learned the most. My beginning, my learning place was somewhere I swore I’d never return to.
“Fine,” I almost whined. “But we are going to need a lot more information on the Lees.”
“Okay, where do we get it?” Ariadne asked. I rubbed my fingers together thoughtfully. We needed power, which most cheaply could be described as hiring thugs. Skiptraces did that kind of thing all the time, there was even a Thugs’ Guild designed to help manage all of the legal and ethical lines associated with muscle-for-hire. A few good, well-trained thugs wouldn’t run too much for a few days’ work, but finding reliable ones was more important. The question then was where the best place in the Olds was to find reliable thugs.
I looked at my favorite jeans, still dripping with water.
“How far are we from Ascalon?” I demanded.
“What the heck is Ascalon?” she asked.
“Right, you wouldn’t know that one…” I corrected myself. “Where’s Olds V?”
“Well, we’re on the extreme north-ish edge of Olds III, so I guess about sixty or seventy miles. Why?” the princess asked.
“I know how we can get back the Lees.” I tried not to grin too wide at my own genius. I had been laughed out of Aristotle’s office entirely too many times in my life and I would show the pudgy lawyer and Mr. Carver that I could be a good skiptrace, at least this once. “We have access to the greatest skiptrace library of bad guys in the whole system.”
Sixteen
A cab took us to the train station, wherein we boarded a positively rickety train and made our way to Olds V. I kept pretty mum about my plan for a few reasons, none of which kept Ariadne from demanding answers the entire train ride.
“What is Ascalon?” she demanded.
“Why is it a good place to go?”
“Stop grinning like an idiot if you’re not going to tell me.”
Of course, it wasn’t until we got into another cab at Olds V that I finally decided to give her some answers.
“Take us to Ascalon,” I told the cabbie. The scruffy-looking man with wild hair shot me an incredulous expression.
“I’m not sure that place is for the likes of you two…” he trailed off.
“Stop fretting, I know Silene personally,” I told the cabbie. He still didn’t seem quite as confident about the whole deal as I was, but I ignored that. I was paying him to take me wherever I darn well pleased.
“Who is this Selene person?” Ariadne demanded as soon as we were underway. Metal and stone buildings began to speed by as the cab zipped toward its destination. The Olds were not like Dinium or Theopa, where growing organic buildings was both cost-effective and reasonable. Most of the Olds’ territory rested on highly pollut
ed ground, in many cases too toxic for organic buildings to inhabit for very long. It was just easier to build houses and community buildings with inorganic materials. There were other advantages to inorganic structures — some of these buildings were thousands of years old, patched up and fixed as best they could. While organic buildings were being made with a longer lifespan in each new genetic generation, they couldn’t last much longer than a few hundred at best.
This, of course, meant the whole place felt a little empty or impersonal. There was no rhythmic thrumming from a hundred synchronized pulmonary systems, but neither was there the often-overpowering, warmed-over wheat smell that came with the standard brand of genetic facsimile. There was also an increased risk for human infections in non-organic cities, as the rocks and mortar had no self-regulating immune system or pluripotent cells to speed up the healing process for both the building and its occupants. In fact, they probably had to use disinfectants like chlorine and alcohol to keep down the dangerous viruses and bacteria, making it all the more likely that said viruses and bacteria would eventually mutate into superbugs.
“It’s Silene, pronounced SI-lean; practice pronouncing it like that,” I said, pulling out some of the stitches in my favorite jeans’ left pocket.
“Marcie!” the princess said, finally placing her hands on my shoulders and forcing me to look up at her. “Focus!”
“Relax,” I told her. “We are going to meet an old acquaintance of mine who is going to help us find Ottoman and Set, recapture them, and drag their sorry butts back to Aristotle.”
“That sounds very expensive,” Ariadne commented.
“Nope, it’s a favor,” I said, working to wiggle out the piece of treated paper I’d had sewn into the pocket.
“Who owes you that big of a favor?” the princess asked.
“Someone who may or may not realize it yet,” I admitted, unfolding the paper. It had just two words printed on it, “Silene” on the front and “Ascalon” on the back in metallic ink, but the important part was what was scribbled and signed in the corner: “I.O.U. if alive.”
I was still alive, so it was a valid favor-in-print.
I glanced over at Ariadne, who had decided to pout even as I waved around the piece of paper triumphantly.
“Are you two sure this is where you need to be?” the cabbie asked, stopping the cab in front of a dilapidated-looking stone building. I knew that it was probably sturdier than most organic buildings and that the inside would be very well-cared-for, but it still looked dilapidated. A scruffy outside hid the nice, neat inside.
Silene was not a person to let things get soft, although she recognized the usefulness of not looking too pristine and painting a big target on yourself.
I paid the cabbie and led Ariadne through the building’s front yard, which went for more of a wild, unkempt look with tall grass, lots of vines, and two surprisingly beautiful trees. The ground might be too toxic for artificially made organics, but the natural flora seemed to do just fine. Plus, they always seemed to make the air even fresher than any city’s shared pulmonary system could.
I strode up to the structure’s big, wooden door, not even bothering to knock at the princess’ almost irate protest.
Given this building was the epicenter of a skiptrace nest, the front room and main hall were surprisingly devoid of people. The few that were there glared at the pair of us like we were plague victims. which I ignored completely. The princess seemed to be deciding on whether or not she was actually going to grab hold of my hand in fear.
“Treat them like the media,” I said, casting a scowl back at a particularly cruel-looking woman in a corner. She actually looked like a ghoul, I surmised, with pale, almost greyish skin, long dark hair, and layers of flowing black robes.
“What?” the princess said, still slinking directly behind me.
“They’re the media, you’re a pilot at Carlion, and you want to beat the crap out of them,” I said, taking an immediate right and striding up to a pair of really big, really heavy doors.
“How the h—” Ariadne bit off a choice word as a man even bigger than the doors moved to intercept us.
“What do you two want?” he demanded, plain green eyes attempting to pierce my soul and scare me.
I looked up at him without wavering. He may have been a mountain of a man, dressed mostly in black with piercings, tattoos, and a few wicked-sweet scars, but he also didn’t scare me. I had a card personally signed by his boss. Besides, I also knew he was bluffing.
“I’m Marcie Dunn. Do you remember me now, Kohinoor?” I asked. It took the giant a moment.
“Oh, yeah! Little Marcie from SkipCon in Baltia,” the speaking mountain said with a sniffle, taking his sightless eyes off me in recognition. He shook my hand gently in remembrance and smiled. “How have you been keeping yourself?”
“So-so,” I said honestly. “I was hoping to talk to Silene; I fulfilled our agreement.” I of course didn’t wave the signed I.O.U. card in his face.
“That should be no problem. I don’t know your friend, however,” Kohinoor shifted his face toward Ariadne, looking somewhere just over her shoulder.
“She’s new,” I said, looking back at Ariadne. “Say something, he can’t see you.”
“I’m Ariadne King,” the princess said, casting wary glances from me to the speaking mountain and back again.
“She’s new,” Kohinoor said with a cautious sniffle.
“She’s my pilot,” I said, ignoring the fact he had just repeated what I said. “Is Silene in?”
“Should be. But she’s in a meeting. I’ll let you in once she’s done,” Kohinoor said, and in the most graceful of gestures he could manage, swept a giant arm toward a few empty chairs. I gave the man the last credit I had in my pocket.
“For your sister’s medical fund,” I said.
“Thank you much, Marcie, she will appreciate it greatly,” the mountain of a man beamed brightly, rubbing the credit in his hands.
I moved to flop satisfactorily into the empty chair near Ariadne.
Ariadne sat almost on the edge of her seat, uncertain as to what to do or say next, though she opened her mouth on more or one occasion.
“His sister?” she finally asked.
“Zvonimir. If I remember correctly, she crashed into a flyer and broke her leg chasing down Cassia Lodger, the fourteenth most wanted exotic animal smuggler in the system,” I said matter-of-factly.
“You need a hobby. Like, a real hobby,” Ariadne said, with a concerned look on her face.
I nodded ruefully. For a moment, we sat there in the eerily quiet hallway. For a house of skiptraces and thugs — whose outward appearance and mannerisms differed only very slightly from the criminals they caught — Ascalon was a surprisingly rigid and orderly company. I always figured it was because it was built just as much on secrets and information as it was on actually hunting down ruffians and dragging their sorry keisters to the proper authorities.
“Marcie…” the princess finally said. A glance toward the creepy, most-likely-a-real-ghoul lady sitting across from us shut her up.
“This is Silene’s operation. She runs a whole skiptrace network that is mostly the best of the best. It’s not as big as something like Trynod, but it’s the place to go if you want to hire experts,” I commented, looking around the room, trying to identify the other occupants. I hadn’t seen any of them aside from Kohinoor before.
“And how do you know these people?’ Ariadne said, not really taking her eyes off the creepy lady.
“I met Silene at a skiptrace seminar not long ago when I was doing…research for a personal matter,” I said. “She and Kohinoor dragged me around for the whole two days, letting me in on a few trade secrets.”
“Why?” the princess asked, looking at me with a sort of disgusted, mostly surprised expression.
“Because I swore to take down one of her biggest rivals,” I said, almost nonchalantly.
“The guy you took the license from?” the pri
ncess said.
“Yep,” I said.
“He was a rival to all this?” Ariadne said incredulous.
“Well, I suppose rival is a strong word. He was more of a nuisance skiptrace who caused problems for everybody. Only Silene really hated his guts like I do.” I shrugged off the information, thumbing the I.O.U.
“This is an entire world I know nothing about,” the princess finally sighed.
“If it’s any consolation, I feel the same way about pilots,” I said with a wry expression.
Ariadne just stared at me.
I mostly ignored her until Kohinoor called us over.
“Silene’ll let you in,” the speaking mountain said, opening the large doors to the heart of Ascalon.
I strode through it with what I’d hoped was a measure of confidence. Silene was a person I actually looked up to, and I wanted to put on a good face to meet her. Although she’d only mentored me for two days, she’d given me a card, signed with an I.O.U., and she was Silene of Ascalon, and I was going to impress her all over again.
And then grovel a little for help.
It was a little more difficult than I had imagined. Sure, I’d been in stone structures, but this was opulent to a fault. Dark wooden walls were decorated with tapestries and paintings. A massive fireplace sat to one side, heating the whole room in a warm glow, contrasted by the deep bluish lights coming from the only stained-glass window I’d ever seen, real or in pictures. It sat directly across from the door, fully prepared to intimidate any business rival or impress any potential client that might make it all the way to Ascalon. It had Silene’s crest, a roguish soldier standing over a speared dragon in triumph. Good has conquered evil.
I stared with my mouth falling open as I looked at the glass. It was such a simple thing, the gruff, logical part of my brain chided me, is it really worth getting so doe-eyed over?
Given the fact that Ariadne poked my side, it probably wasn’t worth any amount of slobbering, but I was too far entrenched. The blues were holding me captive in a moment of pure strength and beauty. How did they refuse to let the greenish, almost sickly nebula-filtered sunlight that penetrated them wash out their colors? How could shards of glass present such a grand moment like slaying a dragon so easily? I didn’t know and almost didn’t want to. I was far too entranced in the intoxicating idea of it; a shining bright good versus a dark, potent evil. Someday, I might even be that soldier, proud and regal, all enemies I encountered laying at my feet.
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