“Kohinoor said you were an old acquaintance of that—” Addie started to say as he stepped out of the corner. What was with this guy and his dramatic entrances? Lady Clarke snapped a finger and the traitorous man fell dead quiet. I was surprised he could talk at all after the run-in I had arranged with his jaw and a rusted pipe. His face was swollen to the size of a melon and already bruised black. I grinned at him a little wildly. His knuckles were almost white with anger.
“I see you are proud of your work,” Lady Clarke said, seeing the wordless exchange between Addie and me. She steepled her fingers in an interested and thoughtful manner. Her voice was still dangerously passive. “Burton here is also proud of his work, and, if you don’t cooperate, I’ll have him rip what’s left of your nose off.”
It’s not like I was actually willing to suffer pain for the Seething, anyway.
“I know Silene from a SkipCon a few years back,” I said hurriedly as the thug’s massive hand rounded my face and made a beeline for my nose. “She thought I had potential.”
“As a skiptrace? Or as a foot soldier of the Seething? I tend to recall the skiptrace community not appreciating people with active gang ties,” Lady Clarke leaned back in her chair, sipping on whatever liquid amber delight she was currently enjoying.
“No. The skiptracing community doesn’t know of my gang ties. Neither does the law firm I supposedly work for. My job is to become a skiptrace and use the resources at my disposal to track down enemies of the Seething,” I said, hoping the Manners matriarch didn’t press me further. I was getting impatient and ready to get to the point.
“With a Seething tattoo on your neck?” Lady Clarke challenged. “What do you do, wear your hair down all the time? Turtleneck sweaters and high-collared shirts? What about hot summer days? I don’t think so, you fraud.”
Ah.
I cussed myself out while I started panicking.
I could still wiggle my way out of this. I just had to think and not take too long, looking guiltier every second.
“Fraud.”
“I cover it when I need to,” I defended.
“Fraud.”
“No one ever gets close enough to look at my tattoo.”
“Fraud.”
“I will not give up the symbol of my belonging!” I yelled with a passion. “I will not give up who I am!”
Lady Clarke leaned forward, almost intrigued. She stared almost blankly at me as I shook angrily. For a moment, I was a soldier of the Seething. A terrible person who had earned a place of trust and respect based on the idea of subterfuge. A fraud, but not in the way Lady Clarke saw it. I would have her know just how wrong she was because at that moment, I was.
She held my gaze for what seemed like ever and I never wavered.
“You almost had me convinced, child,” she said softly. “You almost had me believing what you say.”
I set my jaw as she leaned back, confident. What did I do wrong? What was my mistake?
Keep with the role.
“It’s all too preposterous. I could never believe you are so much part of the Seething and managed to get that deep into the skiptrace community,” Lady Clarke gestured toward her thugs. “Skiptraces are an infection, make no doubt, but they are a suspicious bunch. Suspicion based on money for heads. They’d just as soon turn against one of their own if they thought they could get a pretty penny for it.”
“You got him into Silene’s camp,” I said, throwing my chin toward the still-silent Addie.
“As a thug. There is a big difference,” Lady Clarke said, setting her tankard down with a glassy thunk.
“Are you really willing to risk war with the Seething over a hunch?” I demanded, slipping further forward in the chair I was secured to, straining mightily at the rope that tied me to it, pausing in a very uncomfortable position. I could feel my arms beginning to grow numb from the tension, but I refused to give up. I would get as close to Lady Clarke as I could. I tilted my head just a little.
The Manners’ boss stared at me without flinching. I wasn’t sure if she could see through my deception, but I was more than willing to see it through to the end. It wasn’t like I had much choice in the matter at that point. Though, even if I failed and Lady Clarke killed me right then and there, a thought I didn’t relish but also didn’t dwell on, Ariadne would still be able to make a living off of her parcel business.
“No, I suppose I am not,” Lady Clarke finally said with a sigh. “Why do the Seething want Ottoman and his compatriot?”
“The Seething does not discuss its internal matters with outsiders,” I said angrily. Although I’d really rather make headway with Lady Clarke by being less confrontational, that just wasn’t how it was done in the Seething.
“Let’s just say they provide an opportunity for research,” Lady Clarke said. “I tell you want, there are two of them, why don’t we split them. I will even let you choose which one gets, er, executed by the Seething.”
“If you know they are going to be executed, then you know our claim to them is more righteous than yours,” I growled. “They have committed heinous crimes against the Seething and for that they will pay.”
“All you Seething do is execute people. But I think you are mistaking me for someone who cares about the Seething. You are nothing but childish fools running around your petty extortion rackets,” Lady Clarke said, straightening up a little to look me in the face.
“They killed my brother!” I screamed at Lady Clarke, standing up so abruptly that the rope securing me to the chair tore. Burton, the brute who gave me a wicked-looking new neck scar, reached up and slammed me back into the chair. I bit down hard on his hand that was clamped on my shoulder. He yelled loudly, and gave the back of my head a good wallop, but Lady Clarke snapped her fingers again, preventing him from doing any more harm.
“I get the idea, child,” she said tiredly. It was a long minute before she continued the conversation. I watched her carefully, searching for the moment when she decided to tell Burton to kill me. It was pretty even odds whether she would have me killed, or take me seriously and back off the Lees, but I was more concerned about the former option.
“I believe we can make a deal. I can’t very well stand in the way of a Seething blood feud. Even I am not so cocky. You may have the Lees; execute them as you see fit,” Lady Clarke said, rising to leave.
“How do I know you’ll keep your promise and stay out of our business?” I demanded.
Lady Clarke turned back toward me.
“I run my business with a code of ethics. We are the Manners, after all, and while I am certain it is difficult for a colorful individual such as yourself to understand, our words are our guarantees,” the head of the Manners said plainly.
“Why you—” I started angrily.
“And given this fact, I give you my word that someday, child, you will be lying dead at my feet. You have cost me a great deal,” Lady Clarke said, walking out of the room and snapping her fingers. I yelled for effect as one of her thugs drugged me with a blow dart yet again and the whole world began to blacken.
Of course, she could still kill me, I mused as consciousness was getting more difficult to maintain.
Best not dwell on the negative.
Twenty
I woke up slowly to a musty, mildew-y kind of smell. It took a long time before my eyes were opened and adjusted to the darkness, but when they finally were, I saw that the Manners had dumped me back in the house from which they’d kidnapped me. I made a quick review of my situation. The wound on my neck had stopped bleeding, thankfully, but all the change in my pockets and my knife was missing, which was no surprise. Well, the change seemed pretty petty and, if I had to guess, it was probably Addie’s doing. I also wasn’t particularly excited to be unarmed, but if I was going to get back on track to catch the Lees, I’d have to get out of here..
Once I was finally on my feet, I saw that the car Griffin had rented was gone. There was very little I could do to track down my entire team
on foot, so I decided to head back to the hotel and regroup.
Is it even possible for one person to regroup?
The storm that was brewing outside let out a crack the minute I stepped out the door. At the moment, more than a few people dead and alive were angry with me, but I had succeeded. The Manners, if Lady Clarke was the woman of her word she had made an effort to convince me she was, would be free to track down and re-recapture the Lees.
Of course, this house was the last building on my list and, from the reports, was the closest thing to a family home that the Lees had ever lived in. No one really knew where they came from; they just happened to appear here and stay for over a decade. I’d have to find a whole, fresh new lead to unravel and that would take some time. So I started with the best place: the Lees themselves. It was probable that, during the few weeks of close quarters Ariadne and I had spent with them, either Ottoman or Set had said something that revealed something about their whereabouts. Humans, even the terrifying and murderous ones, were creatures of habit and always returned to the same place if possible.
I began slogging my way to the nearest bus station. Of course, I didn’t actually have any money for a ticket, but if I could sneak on to a living spaceship, a dead, metallic bus shouldn’t be a problem.
Although, given the way I smelled, the bus driver might just refuse to let me aboard. Organic buildings never developed mildew quite to the level inorganic ones did, due to their innate microecosystems that tended to keep unwanted organisms like molds and mildews at a more balanced level. They still existed, of course, but unless the organic structure was sick in some way and their balance had been offset, mildew—
Why did that word sound familiar? Mildew. I stopped in my tracks for a moment, rain soaking even farther into my power red tank top.
It had a ring to it, like it was something important. Not mildew specifically, but the way it sounded. Mildew. Mill, mill…Mill Hew.
What was Mill Hew?
My brain zinged. Both Ottoman and Set had mentioned being sons of Mill Hew. I dismissed it because it, well, was coming from a raging sociopath with venom sac implants and a murderous, dead-eyed drug addict, but now the words played over and over in my head.
I had a lead.
I nearly jumped with joy. Actually, I would have, but at the exact same time an inconsiderate car splashed a tsunami of street water over my already damp form. I turned and cursed it loudly. Yeah, I’d wanted a shower, but not from water that had been sitting on the mucky stone streets of Olds II, festering with rat—
“Marcie Dunn!” The car stopped and a mass of curls leapt out. Ariadne King, in defiance of the rain, stomped toward me, each step more furious than the previous.
I opened my mouth to say something, but the irate woman just stopped and glared at me. I decided it was safer just to let her be angry first and then try to wiggle my way out of the mess I was in. She was definitely scarier than Lady Clarke.
“I am trying very hard not to smack you upside that big, thick head of yours,” the princess said with a tight jaw, and one finger jabbed toward my nose. The other hand was carefully and thoroughly curled into a fist.
“I can see that,” I said carefully.
“If you ever do something stupid like that again, I will break every bone in your body myself,” Ariadne whispered harshly as she leaned closer, jabbing a long, pointed finger in my face for emphasis.
“That’s perfectly fair,” I said and nodded, still trying to be as carefully neutral as possible.
“You ninny!” The princess threw her arms around my neck. I returned the gesture with little hesitation. Gosh, she was tense; why was she that worried about me? I hadn’t had someone this concerned about my wellbeing for years. It felt pretty good.
Ariadne ended the hug, nodding understandingly. Then, without mercy, she reached up and pinched my ear between two surprisingly strong fingers.
“Owww,” I complained as she dragged me to the car. I caught a glimpse of Alyx’s ghoul-like features through the car’s back window and presumed that the rest of the thugs were piled into it as well.
Inside the vehicle was Skirm, bruised and not inclined to talk to me. Or even look at me. Or acknowledge that I existed. I sat as far away from his seat in the back as I could and curled up into a tight ball, trying to preserve whatever body heat I had left.
“Now what? Did your plan work? Are we free from the Manners?” the princess asked quickly, as Griffin began to take us back to the hotel.
“Yes, they think the Seething is after the Lees or, at least, they don’t want to gamble that the Seething isn’t after the Lees,” I said. Alyx draped a long, black robe across my shoulders. I wrapped the thing thankfully around my shivering arms.
I marveled at the fact that the ghoul-lady wore not one but two robes simultaneously, so, even though I was currently bundled up in one, she still looked exactly the same as she had earlier. I was entirely curious as to how she handled hot weather.
After I had warmed up enough to think properly, I began to try to figure out the next step. Technically, the rest of this plan should go smoothly. I had a lead on the Lees and the Manners gracefully backed off of our tail and were likely to stay off for the foreseeable future.
“Wasn’t that house our last lead?” Ariadne asked, glancing back to the Lee’s childhood home with some concern.
“No,” I said, “We have to figure out what Mill Hew is. Anyone heard of it?” I asked. Everybody shook their heads.
“It sounds like an old suburb,” Skirm finally spoke, I turned to look at him. His eyes were passive.
“Old suburb?” I asked.
“There are a bunch of old inorganic settlements in the west of Olds II in the Mu district. It’s mostly overrun with forest now, but they used to give these neighborhoods weird names like that,” the hatted man said. “They should be on any map that’s old enough. The Center of Cartography should have some.”
“Okay, we’ll stop there next,” I said, giving Skirm an appreciative nod. He gave me one last, passive-aggressive hurricane glance before turning to stare out the window dramatically.
I sighed.
Always let the thugs through the door first.
• • •
Elated from my success with the Manners, I decided we should head straight to the Center of Cartography, which Skirm confirmed should be open by this time. Although I should have been bone-tired by this point, I was positively buzzing with excitement and a healthy dose of fear. Not even the hour-long car ride wrapped underneath Alyx’s warm robe was enough to lull me to sleep, so I spent most of the time describing exactly what happened to Ariadne and the rest of the thugs. They honored me with their rapt attention, and I was thankful none of them decided to chide me on the completely reckless nature of my plan just yet.
I was waiting for some chastisement, however. It was only a matter of time.
We finally arrived at the Center of Cartography, which was exactly as dry as it sounds. The old brick-covered building was home to abhorrently creaky floorboards and shelves upon shelves upon shelves of musty, decaying maps. It didn’t help that the building was semi-organic and the maps were mostly made of paper. Organic structures tended to get very humid on the inside, especially when it rains. Some of the maps had been wrapped in what looked like Centauri-made plastic sheaths, which probably prevented them from decaying too badly, but none of the maps we were looking for were quite that old.
The head cartographer was a smiling, bubbly woman who wore a magnifying glass around her neck, had copious amounts of cat hair on the hem of her long skirt, and smelled vaguely of strawberries. She spoke greatly of cartography and the Center’s overly complicated organizational system as she led us to the era of maps we were looking for.
It was a lot more maps than I had originally anticipated. The Mu District had once been a hub for industrial growth in Olds II and so it was mapped, re-mapped, re-re-mapped at least a dozen times before it eventually declined in favor of the port-
heavy Tau District. Mu District went through several major rezoning events in that time, as well as factories and laboratories opening and closing at random, and people moved closer to their jobs. All of this led to a whole aisle of shelves, an aisle that stretched lengthwise about thirty feet and upward at least ten.
“Everybody grab a map. Or eight,” I commented, pulling some maps off the shelves, careful to make sure I knew where to put them back, and walked over to the nearby tables. Huge tables, meant to accommodate either multiple little maps or one ginormous one.
Surprisingly, it actually took several hours before I began to get bored. I was fairly single in that estimate as Griffin, Cabochon, and Alyx all curled up in the uncomfortable looking chairs that lined the wall, snoozing peacefully. Ariadne and Skirm had both adopted a sort of glassy-eyed stare as they sifted through each new map.
I stared at the map in front of me. It was a map on the plumbing and sewer system that ran through one of Trellis Corps-United-Consortium’s iron refineries. I didn’t even know why I was staring at it or how it had gotten into my pile; it wasn’t even based in the Mu District. I sighed, taking a moment to observe how Trellis-United organized the sewage drains to prevent backfilling during the rainy season. I mused that all they would have had to do to fix that problem was to dig a few drainage trenches about twenty feet to the south, allowing water to drain quickly off the factory’s property without filling up the sewage system.
It probably would have cost a few hundred thousand credits, but so did the fancy plumbing system they had to install.
I sighed again as the map began sliding off the table. I didn’t even stop it as it vanished from view.
“Sorry,” Skirm muttered from the opposite corner of the table, laying out a massive map that had nudged my map into its freefall. I grunted a mournful reply and reluctantly reached to grab the Trellis-United map.
I rolled it back up and tried to get another map to look at, but I was entirely distracted. Skirm had maintained his I’m-not-sure-you-exist routine the entire time we had been at the Center for Cartography. I figured it was because I was an idiot, allowing me to get myself captured by the Manners like that, and I figured the best idea would probably be to apologize.
Set'em Up Page 25