by TR Cameron
He shook his head. “Nope. Not buying it. Try a different excuse. Or, you know, tell me the truth. Wasn’t it you who had a problem with others holding back information that might affect them? Given that our lives are literally in your hands right now, I think that probably applies in this circumstance.”
She smashed a fist down on the activator for the autopilot and twisted toward him. “I’m the one in the know today, and I really wish I wasn’t.”
He frowned. “Should I call the others together so you can brief us all at once?”
“No briefing is required right now. The Professor’s instructions were quite clear. And he called ahead to ensure we’d do what he wanted.”
Jax waited for several seconds, but she clenched her jaw and didn’t continue. He held out for a couple more, then prompted, “And what is that, exactly?”
“Information gathering. He apparently agreed with Kenton-freaking-Marshall that approaching from the corporate side would better our odds. But when the others couldn’t find anything on it, did he give up on the idea like a reasonable person? Oh, no, never. Instead, he locked onto that goal and set his smarty-pants brain to work on how to approach it differently. And you’ll never guess what he came up with.”
The pieces fell into place, and Jax’s eyes widened. That explains everything. “No. He didn’t.”
Cia nodded with a look of sick satisfaction on her face at his flash of insight. “He did. He called my parents. We’re headed to Mars to visit the Reardens.”
The pilot refused to abandon her chair for the duration of the flight due to an expectation of increased traffic around the red planet. Jax wandered to the galley and found the rest of the team sitting at the table. He briefed them, resulting in looks of understanding on some faces, and something bordering on condescension on others. He shook his head and cautioned, “We have no idea what the background is here. Cia does. We’re going to follow her lead, and nothing more. She may leave all or most of us on the ship. Whatever she chooses, this is her play, and we do what she says. Anyone decides to freelance, and we’ll have words after.”
Verrand frowned. “Are you team leader again?”
He shook his head. “No. Cia is since she knows the territory best. But I’m the enforcer if I need to be, just like if one of you currently held the key to our success. And if that’s a problem for any member of this group, we can drop you back on Earth before we continue on to wherever this trail leads us.” The steel in his tone caused the others to sit up straighter, stare at him harder. He softened it by adding, “Assuming there’s another step. As usual, the Professor is keeping his cards entirely too close to his vest.”
They all nodded, and Kimmel asked, “Is she okay?”
Jax shrugged. “She’s stressed. Even at the best of times, it’s hard for me to get a read on her, and right now I can’t tell what she’s feeling. If it were me, I’d be worried about seeing the family, upset that someone was making me do it, and probably frustrated that I couldn’t do anything about it without letting my people down.” He frowned down at them from his standing position leaning against the cabinets that held the cookware and dishes. “Don’t underestimate this. Cia’s taking one for the team here, and it’s going to be painful for her. She left behind her pretty cushy family trader gig for a reason.”
Their expressions revealed that the gravity of the situation had finally settled upon them. “She did tell me one thing. The crates have business wear in them, and we need to look like something other than ‘scruffy pirate wannabes.’ So, let’s unpack and follow our leader’s orders.”
He rejoined Cia before their descent to the planet. He could have watched it on his comm from the bow camera, but he wanted to see it on a bigger screen and thought his partner might take solace from his presence. She was wound as tightly as he’d ever seen her, every move fast, sharp, and aflame with nervous energy. He asked, “Where are we headed?”
She tapped a panel, and the navigation information appeared on his control display. Mars was dotted with domed cities, and the marker for their landing was outside the largest on this side of the planet. He brushed his hand across the surface to zoom in the view, revealing a smaller dome a good distance away from the city. “Holy hell. Your family has a dome?”
She nodded. “Our own estate, own dome, own warehouses, own shipyard, and own landing pad with its very own retractable dome.”
He whistled. “Hell. That’s bigger than every military base I’ve been on. Why did you leave again? Got bored with having enough money to do literally anything you wanted to? Thought maybe you’d buy a moon instead?”
“Once you meet my family, you’ll understand.” She didn’t speak again during the flight, except to coordinate with the AI in charge of the landing field. The trip down to the planet was the same as if they’d been landing on Earth, but instead of a runway in the distance, a bubble retracted as he watched. The final approach was vertical, the ship’s nose tipping toward space as she slowly fell, Cia feathering the engines to control their descent. At the last moment, she gently brought the Grace back to horizontal and landed the ship without a bump on the pad. The dome began to reassemble itself overhead.
She rose from her chair and headed for her cabin. “I have to clean up a bit. Everyone should be ready to go. There shouldn’t be any need for weapons, and anyway, you can expect full-body scans about three hundred times before we wind up near anyone worth killing.”
He asked, “Lock picks? Other gadgets?”
She laughed darkly. “You’ve probably never seen security like ours. The people the government hires? They become available when we let them go because we’ve found something better.” Cia shook her head. “There’s no way to tell you what you’re in for. You’ll have to see it for yourself. But make sure no one tries anything clever. We also have a private defense force, and more or less our own laws. Tick off my parents and you all might vanish, never to be heard from again.”
He almost laughed until he saw the look on her face. He nodded, swallowed, and replied, “Yeah. I’ll tell them. Twice.”
Cia studied the group for several moments and straightened Kimmel’s collar before she hit the button to activate the cargo ramp. The Academy had sent along a present, because apparently that’s how things were done among the wealthy, and Verrand held the brightly wrapped box in her hands. Each of them wore the same dark suits, well-tailored for their individual sizes and shapes. Different colored dark shirts and complementary ties completed the top part of the ensembles, and dark dress shoes the lower portion. Cia had selected her own clothes and wore a purple and black tunic with a long skirt in matching colors and pattern. It swished when she walked and showed knee-high black boots underneath that looked as if they cost more than anything he’d ever purchased.
She led the way out of the Grace, walking several feet ahead of the rest of them. At the bottom of the ramp waited a tall, thin man in a tuxedo featuring the same color scheme as her outfit. Jax murmured, “What the hell, do rich people all rent these guys from the same store?” Verrand snorted from beside him but wisely didn’t reply.
When they got into earshot, the man was saying, “Lovely to see you again, Miss Cia. It will be my pleasure to escort you through to the house.” He offered her a pin shaped in a stylized “R,” and she sighed as she attached it to her shirt.
“My associates need credentials as well.”
The man shook his head, and his slicked-back black hair didn’t move an inch. “Mistress Rearden did not permit it, Miss Cia. She wished to ensure that they stayed in company with either you or me.”
Cia sighed. “Of course, she did. At least it’s perfectly in character.” She turned to face them. “Okay, here’s the deal. You need to be with me, or with Standring here. Otherwise, the security systems will react to your presence in ways that will be painful at a minimum, but probably more like fatal. There’s a lot of intellectual property on-site, and we’re very serious about keeping it secure.” She looked down for
a moment and drew a deep breath. When her face rose again, it was locked in a neutral mask. Her spine straightened, and her chin lifted a little more than usual. He’d done the same on any number of occasions, adopting a disguise before facing the enemy.
But the enemy had never been his family. He bowed his head in a nod of respect to her, raised his hand to block the butler’s view of his face, and mouthed, “We’ve got your back.”
Cia nodded, turned, and announced. “We’re ready. Let’s get a move on. Time is money, as father likes to say.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Standring and Cia walked ahead of them, engaged in a discussion Jax couldn’t hear. The pilot had shifted into her role as Rearden scion with seeming ease, but he was sure it had cost her to do it, and she’d continue to pay that price for the duration of their time on the planet. So quickly done is best done. The rest of his team followed along and maintained their silence as they’d been instructed to do.
A luxurious tube car awaited them, constructed of white plastic and silver metal, decorated in the same colors as Cia and the butler wore. This family is clearly serious about making sure you know you’re on their home turf. In the shoes of a potential business partner visiting to strike a deal, he’d feel firmly put in his place as “other” and “smaller” by the reception they’d received.
They sat, and it sped soundlessly toward the mansion. The tall windows that made up the upper half of the side walls showed the barren landscape of Mars’ unforgiving surface. It was the only other planet in Earth’s home system to have been colonized, as the jump drive had made it possible to explore widely for planets more easily conquered. Pragmatism overcame idealism once other options presented themselves, and the dreams of atmosphere and lush greenery covering Martian soil were abandoned as not worth the investment they would require.
They coasted to a stop with only a hint of motion, and the doors slid open to allow egress. He rose slowly as a reminder to his team, and they all waited for Cia and the butler to depart first. The luxury of their surroundings increased tenfold as they stepped from the car onto the platform. Metal and wood combined all around to create a sumptuous replica of an Earth train station from centuries past, but those facilities had never been as clean and perfect as this one. A high ceiling arched overhead, and light filtered through the copious windows set in it. Their footsteps echoed on the tile as they walked toward the exit, an array of eight doors arranged in pairs, translucent glass panes obscuring what lay beyond.
They opened automatically at their approach, and Jax finally got a good look at the Rearden home. He’d spent enough time in character to avoid visible reaction, but it was difficult to keep from gaping like a colonist who’d just visited their first real city. The huge reddish-brown stones stacked atop each other to create its facade had almost certainly been dug out of the Martian soil. He wasn’t aware of a quarry on the planet, but evidence of one lay before him. A narrow patio ran along the front, the roof protecting it supported by seamless columns five stories high. As they approached, the enormity of the structure became clearer. No wonder most of the family stays close. They could all live together and still not see each other for months if they wanted. Oversized decorative double doors were set in the middle, and they parted at a gesture from the butler.
Inside stood two rows of security personnel, five members in the first rank, and four in the second. Eight of them stood stiffly at attention and wore the same garb. It was very similar to his Special Forces clothing, a black tunic and trousers with purple stripes and heavy black boots. Their belts held holsters on each hip with stun batons sheathed beside them. The ninth member of the group, a woman with short blonde hair severely chopped into a line on one side and shaved on the other, was clearly the leader. Her uniform had more purple accents and carried insignia on the collar. She stepped forward with a smile. “Miss Cia. Welcome home. You’ve been missed.”
Jax heard genuine affection in the woman’s voice, and in Cia’s as she replied, “And I’ve missed you, Jaleni.” She turned and called, “Jax, could you join us for a moment?” He approached and felt the security personnel’s hard eyes track him as he moved. “This is Jaleni. She’s the chief of security for the compound. What she says is law here.” Cia swiveled her gaze to the other woman. “This is Captain Jackson Reese, UCCF Special Forces. He’s part of an organization I belong to, and I trust him completely.”
Jaleni nodded. “I am reassured, Miss Cia, but you understand I cannot allow him any additional liberties.”
Cia laughed. “I never expected you would.”
At that, a grin broke out on the Security Chief’s face. “Well then, we’ll have no problems. And do you both take responsibility for the rest of your crew?”
Jax nodded. “You don’t have to worry about us. We’ll behave as much as you want us to.” He tried a charming smile and got a deadpan stare in return. Okay, no flirting with the security people. Check. The woman turned to Cia and said, “You’ll be staying the night, of course.”
The pilot rolled her eyes, and sarcasm dripped onto the floor. “Why would I ever want to miss a family dinner?”
The chief nodded. “Indeed. I remember how much you enjoyed them.” She gestured ahead. “Standring will show you all to your rooms. Please don’t leave them without alerting us in advance. Guests found wandering will be judged a threat and acted upon accordingly by the security systems and personnel.”
Jax asked, “Are we safe in our rooms without those pin things or whatever?” He knew the jewelry contained a transponder that would ID the wearer to the sensors that doubtless lay in each corner of every chamber.
She smiled, well aware of his game. “In the rooms, yes. Beyond them, very much no. And that includes the grounds, so no strolls through the landscape, please. The sentries out there are particularly violent.” He had an image of the robot he’d recently fought and cringed inwardly.
“Gotcha, Chief. Thanks for the warning.”
The security lead escorted Cia in one direction, and the guards accompanied Jax and the others as the butler led them to their rooms in what was likely a guest wing of the mansion. He spotted several places where he would have concealed doors, or cameras, or weapons, or maybe even traps if he were in charge of the place’s defenses. The countermeasures would probably be fewer where Cia was headed. He wondered idly if she would be staying in her childhood bedroom, then got creeped out by the idea of growing up in a place like this. A kid would need twenty-four-seven surveillance to ensure they didn’t get lost trying to go from one wing to the next.
His room was far nicer than the best hotel he’d ever stayed in, including the resort planet they’d visited during his last stint at the Academy. It shared elements of the family’s color scheme but was mainly light fabrics and dark woods. The attached bathroom had a shower with a computer that controlled the spray, and he immediately put checking that out thoroughly on his to-do list for after their meeting with the family. A mammoth display filled one wall and cycled through artistic images of Mars accompanied by classical piano that followed him while he moved through the space, suggesting hidden speakers all around.
I’m sure they’ve got as many options for recording sound as for playing it back in this room. Before leaving the ship, they’d discussed the need to treat the house as an enemy location and assume no privacy whatsoever. Kimmel had naturally suggested that he could beat whatever systems they had in place, and Cia had explained to him that if he attempted it, she’d pull out his eyebrows a strand at a time and make him eat them. Jax hoped the computer wizard hadn’t ignored the threats and promised punishments and tried to smuggle in technology anyway.
Jax lay back on the bed, which was about the size of his quarters aboard the Cronus, and closed his eyes as the comfort enveloped him. When you have nothing better to do, get some rest for what comes next.
Dinner was held in a room large enough for dancing. It probably could have hosted a formal dance and a meal simultaneously, as the
long table down the center of the room only took up a third of it. This, despite being sufficient to seat twenty or more in comfort. Only one end had been set, with places for each of them plus five more. Etched metal tents with inscribed names sat atop small cloth pads on each plate to indicate their places. He was on the far end, away from the head of the table. Ethan Kimmel was already seated at the nearest position on the opposite side. So, they took our measure somehow and put Cia’s biggest supporters as distant from her chair as possible. Nice. Jerks.
The rest of his team showed up shortly after, Verrand sliding into the seat to his right and Sirenno plopping down next to Kimmel. Before he could speak, the Reardens arrived en masse. The patriarch of the Rearden clan, Anders, was tall and well-built. His tanned skin glowed with health, and he had all the classical good looks money could buy. He lowered himself into the chair at the head of the table with a radiating confidence that it was his seat, and no one else could ever belong there.
Cia sat to his left, wearing a more formal version of the ensemble she’d had on earlier, featuring a more notable purple trim. Across from her was an older woman that could only be her mother. Michaela Rearden was so thin she was almost waif-like, and her pale skin and light hair made her seem almost to fade while you looked at her.
Beside her sat the youngest-looking of the family he hadn’t yet met, which likely made him Grenthan. He was a carbon copy of his father, right down to the same swept-back dark hair and perfectly done eyebrows.
Across from him sat the other male scion, Travers. He must have drawn the recessive genes from each of his parents, because he was taller than both, had skin liberally dotted with freckles, and an unexpected shock of red hair that he seemed unconcerned with styling. Jax got the immediate impression that he was probably the second biggest troublemaker in the clan.