by C H Gideon
Pristinely-dressed people stood before the wide-open doorways, hawking their location’s benefits over their competitors, the voices blurring as they screamed over one another.
“This place is huge. Is the mercenary business this formal and well-funded?” Geroux wondered. “There’s no way we’ll be able to look into everything without spending the rest of our lives here.”
“I’m okay with that,” Ka’nak said, eyes wide as he stared at all the signs. “I’m in no hurry to go back.”
“We’re on a mission, Ka’nak,” Jiya reminded him. “We’ve got things to accomplish. Please try to remember that.”
He sighed and nodded. “I’ll try.”
Jiya spun in a slow circle, taking the whole of the place in. Geroux was right; Dal’las-Tri was huge and swarming with people. If they were going to find Kurtherians among the crowd, they were going to have to become part of it.
“Okay, how about this?” she asked. “We split up and canvass the crowds; troll the areas where the most people are gathered. We move among the crowd, scanning and checking for Kurtherian activity. If they were looking for an army or just enough people to stir things up, this would be the place.”
She pointed at Geroux and Ka’nak, thinking the young girl could keep the warrior somewhat in line if they were paired up. “You two go that way, and Maddox and I will go this way.” She jabbed a finger at Ka’nak after motioning which way each group was going. “Don’t leave her behind, Ka’nak. Stay together no matter what happens, you hear me? And stay in touch.”
He nodded slowly, cocking his head as he contemplated something. “I hear you.” His sly grin didn’t instill confidence. He gestured to Geroux. “Come on, kid, let’s go find some aliens.”
Jiya brandished her Etheric detector at them. Geroux held hers up to show that she had it. Geroux shrugged and hurried after the Melowi warrior, waving goodbye to Jiya and Maddox.
“You think that’s a good idea?” Maddox asked her once they were gone.
“Not really, no,” she admitted, “but there’s no way we’ll be able to search everywhere if we stick together. We’re kind of winging it on this one.”
“As good a plan as any to pick out these Kurtherians since our scanners are so short range,” Maddox admitted. “Maybe Takal can create something with a little more oomph that we can use from orbit.”
“Maybe, but right now, all we have are the vaguest of descriptions and these toys.”
“Fair enough,” Maddox said as the pair continued down the street, weaving between the clusters of passersby.
After a while, Maddox stopped and shook his head. He leaned over to Jiya’s ear and whispered, “While there are a good number of people wandering about,” he motioned toward the crowd, “they look more like tourists than anything. I think we need to go into the markets and casinos since that’s where the action is. That’s more likely where we’re going to find answers.”
Jiya glanced over his shoulder through the entrance to the nearest trade market. Hundreds of people milled about just inside, and there were game tables and machines as far as she could see. It looked like a weapons convention where people could interact virtually with the arms for sale, and it was packed.
Mercenaries and weapons.
She nodded. “I think you’re right,” she said, ushering him through the doors.
The smell of unwashed bodies, discharged plasma, and gunpowder was stifling. They made one pass, paying particular attention to the vendors.
“No pictures!” a pig-faced creature yelled at her when she waved her Etheric detector in his direction. He reached for the device, and Jiya rabbit-punched him in his snout. He fell back, his fellow vendors descended on him to poke fun for getting his ass kicked by a female. She and Maddox used the distraction to disappear into the throng.
A full circuit took more time than they wanted, but they didn’t have a limit, only a mission. Jiya thought about it, deciding she had nowhere else to go. Reynolds and the mission had become her life, which meant that people like Maddox, Ka’nak, Takal, and Geroux were her family. Her life was also about taking care of them.
She had never thought of herself as a mother. She’d never been stable enough in life to consider it. She clapped Maddox on the back. “What do you think, General? Shall we give the gaudy game place next door a shot?”
“Players are always more free with their words when bets are on the table.” Maddox grinned and led Jiya next door, and shot straight toward the thickest part of the crowd. Jiya followed closely, silencing her inner voice and listening to the peoples’ conversations as she passed—a trick she’d learned long ago by eavesdropping on her father’s council talks.
It was harder to do here because there was a constant low-pitched hum in the air, but she managed to ignore it and listen in.
“Selas is fucking drunk! Did you see her?”
“…starving. When are we gonna eat?”
“Nothing but sharks at that table. I’ll bet they…”
“Hey, baby. Whatcha doin’ after work tonight?”
Jiya and Maddox broke through the crowd, and she scrubbed her mind of the image of the old, shaggy-haired man hitting on the buxom waitress just trying to do her job and deliver drinks to the patrons.
She’d barely managed it when Maddox tapped her on the shoulder.
“Hey,” he started, “I’m going to hang out here and get the feel of the place.” The general gestured toward a gaming table a large group of people was gathered around. There was an empty seat in the middle of it all as the cards flittered across the table.
Jiya nodded. “Okay. I’ll keep wandering and see what I can find.”
Maddox muttered his agreement and went over, flopping down on the stool and joining the game. Reynolds had given them credits to use, so Maddox settled in quickly, stacks of chips being slid to where he sat. He grinned and started playing the game, his expression matching the wild-eyed, glassy look of the rest almost immediately.
She grinned, amused by how easily he’d infiltrated the group of card players.
Certain he was fine where he was, Jiya continued walking, sweeping her eyes over the casino crowd as surreptitiously as she could. It wasn’t as if the Kurtherians were expecting her, but the less attention she drew to herself, the better. She didn’t want to stand out.
As such, she stopped here and there and examined the game machines, pretending to play a game or two while listening to the conversations of those around her.
It made for a long and boring search.
“Again?” Geroux complained.
Ka’nak, his face covered in the blood of his previous opponents, grinned like a feral cat. “Yes, again,” he answered. “This is too easy, girl. I’ve already won more money here than I’d ever have earned back on Lariest.”
She put her hands on her hips. “But this isn’t why we’re here,” she reminded him.
He shook his head. “But it is.” Ka’nak gestured toward the dugout where the warriors waited for their turns to fight again. “These men know nothing but fighting and talking. If there’s a Kurtherian here, they’ll know it, and then I’ll know it.”
“And your getting to fight is just a bonus on top of your efforts at completing our mission, huh?”
He grinned and booped her nose. “Exactly that.” His name was called and he chuckled, waving her off. “It’s my turn again. Go do some computer voodoo while I dispatch this next guy. Maybe you can find something useful.”
Geroux harrumphed at his back as he ran off, returning to the mini-pit where the fighters were gathered. His opponent was probably half Ka’nak’s size, and the man looked terrified. She watched for a few seconds as the fight started. Ka’nak went after the other guy, and as soon as the blood started flying, she turned away and marched off.
She hadn’t come to the planet to watch Ka’nak beat people unconscious…or worse. They had a mission to attend to, and if Ka’nak wasn’t going to take it seriously, she had to. She crouched over h
er device, turning slowly so it could scan the nearby area for anyone pulling energy from the Etheric dimension.
Nothing.
She left the Melowi behind and strolled down the busy streets of Dal’las Tri to see what she could see. Much of it was the same as what she’d passed a hundred times: stores, markets, bars, restaurants, gaming parlors, and shops of ill-repute. None of those were what she was looking for.
At last, when she thought she’d have to pack it in and message Jiya to tell her she’d lost Ka’nak, she came across a quiet security station nestled in the middle of all the chaos of Dal’las Tri. She smiled when she realized there was an open-air café across the street from it.
She secured a table, ordered a drink and a meal, and cast furtive glances at the station. Glass-fronted doors allowed her to see inside. A half-dozen security officers sat around doing a whole lot of nothing.
There were cups of coffee before the officers, and each looked as if they were eating or had just finished. Their relaxed attitude told Geroux that the local mercenary vendors took care of the bulk of security work on the planet, or there were simply very few laws that meant anything, and the police had almost nothing to do but while away their time eating and becoming caffeinated.
Either way, it worked out perfectly for Geroux. She spied several computer terminals inside the station. With a determined look on her face, she pulled out her tiny rig, a full-powered hacking computer about the size of her palm, and went to work.
If they couldn’t find anything about the Kurtherians out on the street, she was sure she could infiltrate the planet’s security systems and learn something. If the Kurtherians were as shifty and slick as Reynolds had made them out to be, they’d likely have a presence in Dal’las Tri’s upper echelons.
Given enough time, Geroux would hunt them all down.
Chapter Twenty-One
Phraim-‘Eh Cult Monastery, Lora
Jora’nal raised his hands before the crowd as he strode across the stage.
“Hear me, brothers and sisters,” he called, his voice reverberating through the small theater. His robes swished around his ankles. “Long have we stood in the shadows of the new gods, caught beneath their heels and the machine that grinds us down.”
The crowd gathered before him, close to fifty people, muttered their agreement. They raised their hands in the air to imitate his motions, closing their fists as they chanted.
Jora’nal stared out at the assemblage and grinned. They swayed to his every word, just as the Voice of Phraim-‘Eh had said they would.
“Yes, my brothers and sisters, the time has come for us to step out of the shadows and proclaim our allegiance to the old gods, to the one and everlasting Phraim-‘Eh.”
A muttered gasp tore through the crowd at the mention of the ancient god, a name spoken only in private or in the deepest of whispers. To hear it said so boldly set the crowd on edge.
“His messenger came to me,” Jora’nal told them. “The Voice of Phraim-‘Eh, whose name I say aloud without fear. He came to me and said I am the chosen of Phraim-‘Eh, he who must spread the word and warn the faithful of the war to come.”
Jora’nal crept to the edge of the stage and stared down at the followers gathered before him. He pointed a finger at one of the faithful and smiled, meeting the woman’s wide eyes.
“I’ve no doubt you’ve heard such blasphemies uttered before, seen twisted lips spew falsehoods and claim relevance,” he said, and the crowd nodded their heads in time, “but I am no false messenger.” He clenched his fist and raised his hand to the sky.
The woman shrieked as she was yanked into the air at the movement of Jora’nal’s hand. Her feet kicked frantically beneath her, her sandals nearly a meter off the ground.
“Behold!” Jora’nal shouted, motioning the crowd to witness the miracle before them. “I am what Phraim-‘Eh has made me. I am the bearer of his message.”
He eased the woman back to the ground and she crumpled to the floor, kissing its stained tiles. The rest of the gathering followed suit, dropping behind her and chanting Phraim-‘Eh’s name over and over like a growing storm.
Jora’nal waited for a moment, letting the swell build, then he levitated above the stage, silencing the converts at his feet. “Have faith in Phraim-‘Eh and all of us shall ascend, my brothers and sisters. Have faith!”
The crowd roared and Jora’nal stared out over them, seeing the Voice of Phraim-‘Eh at the back of the room. The messenger nodded his approval and vanished into the shadows.
Jora’nal lowered himself to the stage and waved the crowd to him. “Come. Join me and become one with Phraim-‘Eh.”
After wandering around Dal’las Tri for hours with no success, Jiya found a dark corner and triggered her comm to reach out to the crew. Static was her only answer.
She sighed as she glanced around, taking in the lights and glowing signs, realizing the electrical barrage was likely interfering with the communicators. She’d need to find a place where she wasn’t being bombarded, but she wasn’t sure if that would work given that the others were likely under the same interference.
Since she wasn’t far from the casino where she’d left Maddox, she circled back and returned there, pushing through the growing crowd. As night settled, more and more people appeared and filled the streets and casinos. It was becoming hard to maneuver without running into people.
She finally managed to make her way inside to the table where Maddox had been earlier, and, to her surprise, he was still there. The stacks of chips in front of him had grown exponentially, and people pressed in around him as he played, cheering and hooting for him. Jiya had to fight her way to his side.
“Hey. I’ve been looking for—” she started when she was alongside him, but the hazy, indistinct look in his eyes brought her to a halt.
A grin that stretched his cheeks sat on his face, and he laughed and chatted with the dealer as cards flew. Jiya nudged his shoulder, but he kept playing, ignoring her.
She glanced around the table, and it struck her. While she couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, it looked as if these were the same people who’d been there when Maddox had first started playing.
“Hey, Reynolds needs us,” she whispered into Maddox’s ear, but the general blew her off again, throwing his cards down and shouting that he’d won.
The crowd around the table erupted, and Jiya eased back to get a better look.
Just like Maddox, there was a frenzied expression on all the players’ faces. It didn’t look natural.
Despite the cool air of the casino, all of the players were sweating, a sheen of moisture reflecting the bright lights. Their hands shook as they handled the cards and chips, and they smiled so widely that Jiya feared they might dislocate their jaws. They looked manic. There weren’t even any drinks on the table to explain it.
Something was wrong.
She backed farther away, easing into the crowd, her eyes scanning the nearby tables. They were the same.
The players looked crazed, throwing themselves into the games with reckless abandon. Some were winning little bits here and there, but most were losing. Still, they didn’t seem to mind. They threw down chip after chip even as the dealer scooped them away, and the crowd kept cheering.
Caught up in the swirl of the crowd, Jiya angled back toward Maddox’s table only to bump into a man in a crisp black suit.
“Oh, my apologies,” she told him.
He nodded and smiled. “No worries, ma’am,” he replied, slipping into the throng with practiced ease, but his eyes lingered on Maddox’s table. She watched the well-dressed man carefully.
Jiya realized right away he was casino security or management, so she eased after him and closed on him to observe. She watched as he spoke quietly into what she assumed was a comm built into the cuff of his sleeve and she inched closer, focusing on his words to the exclusion of everything else.
“Table 6. Tweak the algorithm,” he whispered. “Got a guy cleaning house.”
>
Not more than a second later, the low whine she’d noticed and ignored earlier pulsed through her head again, bringing with it a slight headache. She squinted as the hum wavered, then seemed to fade away much as it had when she’d first entered the casino.
There was a roar from Maddox’s table right then. Jiya left the suited man behind and circled back around as casually as she could. She spotted Maddox through the crowd. The dealer scooped a stack of chips from in front of him and pulled it across the table.
Maddox didn’t seem to care. He shoved more chips onto the playing area and grinned like a madman. So did all the people around him. Although they barely had any chips left, they kept betting as if their life depended on it.
Jiya had a feeling it just might.
She watched for a short time longer. Maddox lost again and again and again, but his posture never changed, and he never stopped betting. He was all in…and then some.
Having known the man nearly her entire life, she knew that wasn’t normal.
The time alone in her father’s prison might well have changed him, but she doubted it. This was no gamer’s high.
She took one last glance in the security man’s direction and saw him watching Maddox. He grinned and spoke into his sleeve again before wandering off, apparently satisfied.
That cinched it for Jiya.
She had an idea what the casino was doing and needed to do something to stop it.
Certain Maddox would stay put, she made her way outside and went in search of a quiet out-of-the-way place where her comm would work so she could reach out to the rest of the crew and Reynolds.
A short distance from the casino, Jiya spotted Geroux hunkered down at an outdoor café. Jiya recognized the intense look on her face, realizing she was surreptitiously working on her computer. She eased into the café and grabbed a seat at her table.
“Hey,” she said, offering the girl a broad smile in case anyone was watching. “What’s going on?” she whispered.