Cobalt’s frown eased up a bit. “And would you do the tech work or distract the guards?”
“Both. I’ll make a plan. I could… I could…”
“Besides, to have plausible deniability, I would have to not know everything I know.” Cobalt sighed. “It’s fine. I’m in. You know I’m in. I just wish I understood why.”
Does he mean why I want to do this or why he’s in? “It’ll be amazing. You’ll see.”
“It’ll be something.” Cobalt glanced down at his datapad. “And of course I’m going to replace the engine on the Wingspan. What do you take me for?”
Jack sauntered down the aisle, admiring the smooth motion of the train and also feeling like trains should rattle more. He focused his senses as he approached his destination. Some raucous laughter emerged from one of the train compartments, and passengers had their noses buried in datapads in another. Since the train’s official time matched that of the destination—the moon Ariadne—most compartments were dark, their occupants snoozing through their travel time.
I know they need to fit a lot of people on these trains, but do there have to be so many cars? The Intermoon Express between Daedalus and Ariadne had one hundred twelve cars, so even though his compartment was relatively close to the front, he still had to walk through thirty cars to get to the engine room. You have to travel nearly the distance to the moon to get to the end. Car, car, car, blah, blah, blah. And poor Cobalt has to walk all the way to the other end.
At last, his quarry came into sight, and his gut twisted when he saw that a woman was manning—if that was even the right word—the controls. He knew his job was to manipulate her, but pretending to be interested in a woman felt like a betrayal of her. Maybe just pretending to be interested in the train is enough.
He hoped the empty swallow going down his throat didn’t catch anyone’s attention as he smiled for all he was worth and knocked on the empty doorframe leading into the control room.
The woman at the helm turned. Her rosy face was pretty, even if her cheeks were a little too full, and the headband barely holding her curls out of her face was a decade out of style. “Can I help you?”
“I’m so sorry.” Jack gave her an innocent look. “I just… I was looking for the dining car and must have gotten turned around. This is the engine room, isn’t it?”
“Yep.” The engineer’s tone had a bite to it. “That’s what they call it. The engine’s on the other side of that wall, though. This is the control room for the computer, though the AIs mostly run themselves.”
Aha. Not annoyed with me. Bored. I can definitely work with that. “Really?” He glanced around the room. “Where are the computers?”
She raised a black datapad. “Everything’s on here.”
“Would you show me? I’d love to get to know how the train works.”
The woman pulled a stool out from under the desk, and Jack took it.
“I’m Jack.” He held out his hand.
She shook it. “Chora.”
“Like the university?”
She gave him a self-mocking smile. “And the city it’s in. My parents are professors. They wanted me to be one, too, but I couldn’t imagine being stuck scurrying between a classroom and a research lab all my life. So the first chance I got, I ran away to the stars and haven’t looked back. Except for holidays—Dad does the best roast. Sometimes these long trips with nothing to do aren’t quite what I signed on for, though.”
“I get that.” And he did, because that was exactly how he felt. He studied the way Chora bit her lip and wondered if she could be her, the girl he was waiting for, the one he had to remain faithful to, and the one he loved. She can’t be. I mean, if she were, I would know.
Every time Jack decided a girl couldn’t be the one he was looking for, Cobalt pointed out it was ridiculous to expect to recognize a girl he couldn’t name or describe and whom he had, in fact, never met. But Cobalt was also an aromantic asexual who had a hard time grasping the finer points of love.
“The train pretty much runs itself, all preprogrammed with AIs and stuff.” Chora glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “But of course I have to be here if anything goes wrong.”
“Does anything go wrong on the average Daedalus-to-Ariadne jump?”
“Well…” Chora bit her lip and looked out the door. The metallic hall remained as empty as it had a moment ago. “This isn’t exactly a run-of-the-mill trip. You see, on Ariadne, some of the megacorps are so rich and powerful they trade in diamond bars. But of course, the diamonds are mined and processed on Daedalus, which means that a couple of times a year, they have to ship the diamonds to Ariadne. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but this season’s shipment is on the train right now.”
Well, this is going to be easy, Jack thought as his brain confirmed that Chora was definitely not his lost love. My girl is hopefully at least a little discreet. “Show me.”
Chora ran her finger across the scanpad a few times until Jack could see the outline of a car. The long lines running parallel to the door were plated inurdium, which would take the diamonds housed between them to cut through. The red dots on either side of the car represented the guards standing there.
“Can I see, like, a live picture? I mean, a whole car full of diamond bars.” Jack didn’t have to pretend to want to see that. He almost wished he were the mechanical genius so he could be the one standing in the room with all that treasure.
“Hm. We’ve got cameras in there, but it’s dark.” Chora pinched her lips as she leaned over the datapad. “Maybe…”
Jack leaned forward, brushing the corner of the pad with his arm. “You’ve got to be able to—”
“Don’t touch that!” Chora ripped the datapad away from him.
He reared back. “Cronos, I’m sorry! I hope I didn’t mess anything up.”
Chora swiped several times on the datapad in quick succession. “I’m sure it’s fine. I— Oh, you just turned the airflow to the secondary system for a minute. That’s not a huge deal. I can flip that right back and… There!” She breathed a sigh of relief. “All better! But… I think you should probably go.”
“You’re right. I don’t want you to lose your job. Thanks for the tour.” He gave her a half smile and walked out. His step was just a hair springier than it had been on his approach. Let’s see if Cobalt can do his part.
Four guards on this side of the treasury car. Probably four on the other too. Cobalt eyed the insignia on the blacker-than-black uniforms. ZimmerCorp. Zimmer Investments Corporation paid enough to have their pick of graduates from Bellerophon. The moon was dedicated to turning out warriors for the greatest army humanity had ever seen, but since humanity’s sole military force had no one to go to war with, most warriors ended up selling out to the corporations rather than keeping the peace.
“It’s all leading up to a big war between the megacorps. Mark my words.” Cobalt rolled his eyes at the paranoid rants he’d always heard in his head when he thought about Bellerophon. He must have known some rabble-rouser in his past, but all the Daedalytes he could remember were a steadier lot. It must have been one of his parents’ regular clients when he was a kid. A lot of pirates came to the shop a few times, then got themselves blown up on a misguided crusade and never came back.
Cobalt took shallow breaths and watched the image of the guards on his datapad. He had crept up the side of the last few cars—kept empty to protect the cargo—careful to keep out of sight of the guard’s infrared detectors. He had his coolant suit on to fool them, but the hood was hard to see through, so he didn’t want to keep it on any longer than necessary.
How did I let Jack talk me into this? he thought, but his question didn’t hold the exasperation it implied. He already knew the answer. It was because he could never say no to Jack. He told himself he feared what Jack would do on his own, but he knew he was more afraid of what he would do w
ithout Jack. Sometimes he felt like he and Jack had been twins for longer than their nineteen years. The universe had decreed that Jack and Cobalt were two sides of the same coin, and Cobalt couldn’t defy the universe—or Jack.
The upper half of Cobalt’s datapad flashed a dull orange once, but it was enough for him to know Jack had activated the neutralizer. The gas should make the guards foggy and unaware of their surroundings but not enough that they were aware it was happening. If Cobalt had measured the dosage right—and of course he had—he should have just enough time to do what he needed to.
He hustled over to the door of the next car, not daring to breathe. Though he knew he had measured the medicine correctly and that his screen would not have flashed if Jack hadn’t deployed the gas, he was human enough to know that there was always room for error—or in that case, calculated risk. A small percentage of people reacted badly to the gas and became violent in their confusion, though they usually had a grace period before the punching started.
Cobalt tiptoed up to the door as silently as he could in his bulky coolant suit. When the guards didn’t move, he reached past them to open the power console for the next car. With all the skill he wished were being put to use fixing piloters in his parents’ shop, he inserted a device that would cut all power to the car for ten minutes.
Content that most interior defenses would rely on the car’s inherent power, Cobalt got to work on the lock. He disabled it with laughable ease and inched open the door, checking every step of the way for a trap or alarm, but he found none.
A cursory look over the room indicated no security systems still operational, and Cobalt had to push down a stab of disappointment that the heist wouldn’t be a bit more of a challenge. He pushed a button on his scanpad, the one that would summon the drone he had keeping pace with the train. He had calculated the exact speed and timing to get the drone to land in the right place on the train, and he wasn’t surprised when the drone drilled exactly where he’d expected.
While the drone created a circular hole in the ceiling, Cobalt opened a case of diamonds. Jack had wanted to steal the entire car’s worth, but Cobalt had talked him down. One case of diamonds was plenty to make them rich, and one missing case might not be noticed as quickly. Besides, they couldn’t hide a drone that could hold that many diamonds. Cobalt suspected the last bit was the only thing that had convinced Jack.
Cobalt hesitated before lifting the diamonds into the drone. This is it. I am really stealing ZimmerCorp diamonds. He considered putting them back and walking away before he could get into any more trouble, but it was too late for that. He had already drugged the guards, cut the power, and drilled a hole in the ceiling of the train. Leaving the diamonds would not save him from jail time. He loaded them into the drone and pushed the button that made it deploy a portable force field over the hole in the ceiling then fly off to its preprogrammed coordinates.
He looked at the time on his datapad. His ten minutes were almost up. He slid back out the door and made his way back to his seat, stopping in one of the empty cars to dispose of his coolant suit.
Well, that went smoothly. I don’t know if Jack will be pleased or disappointed by the lack of drama. Probably both.
Chapter 3
Present Day
“Let’s hear it for your champion, Gavin Ibori!”
Gavin stared into the blinking red light of the camera and tried to smile. People had always told him he had the most exuberant smile they had ever seen, full of bright-white teeth standing out against his dark-brown skin. His brown eyes lit up, they said, and they felt peace that almost made them believe in a higher power. Gavin suspected his current expression reflected none of that. He was pleased, he reminded himself. Who wouldn’t be pleased to win their region’s title in the Bellerophon games?
Games. He could hear the scoffing sound in his brain. The competition involved battles of every sort, from hand-to-hand fighting, to swords, to chases with laser pistols and small space vessels. That people considered that kind of warmongering a game disgusted him, though he wasn’t sure why. He had been raised to it.
“Tell us, Gavin! Who was the greatest influence on your victory?”
Gavin felt like he should know his interviewer’s name. The man was on the news all the time, flaunting his civilian status with his lack of uniform and nonregulation bushy mustache. Gavin had mixed feelings about nonmilitary people who chose to live on Bellerophon. On the one hand, he envied them because they could leave. On the other, he resented them for staying.
As he answered the question, Gavin felt his jaw clench. “My parents, of course. General and Colonel Ibori are true children of Bellerophon. They have instructed me since birth that the most noble of all pursuits is glorious combat for one’s nation.”
He hated lying, not that his words, strictly speaking, were untrue. His parents were believers in the Bellerophon party line, and they had done their best to instill the same values in their son. That they had failed was not a comment on their diligence but on Gavin’s intransigence.
From the way his father, General Elliot Ibori, smiled and clapped in the crowd, Gavin knew he believed winning the games had made him understand the glory of battle. In fact, all it had done was make him grateful that war only existed in tales of humanity’s past.
“I would also like to thank my friend Archon, whom you’re going to interview next. Archon has trained with me since we were children, and I am proud that his performance gained him the wildcard slot in the final games.”
Gavin glanced at the side of the crowd where a blond man in a cadet’s uniform stood at attention. Only someone who knew him well would see the gleam in his eye and the upward quirk of his lip indicating his excitement.
Archon. Always the perfect soldier. Like everyone thinks I am.
“Finally, I would like to thank my girlfriend, Windla, without whose tireless support I could never have made it this far.”
The brown-haired girl standing next to Gavin’s parents blushed and looked down when he mentioned her name. Gavin almost regretted thanking her. Windla never sought the spotlight, which was one of the things he loved about her. He knew that if he managed to escape the life of glory his father had planned for him, Windla would still be by his side.
“How do you plan to win the final competition?” the interviewer asked.
Win? I’m just hoping to survive it. Gavin was not looking forward to the weeks-long survival challenge, which would be broadcast for all of Orpheus and its moons to see. Competitors weren’t supposed to die in the games, but accidents had happened.
“I’ve participated in many survival challenges and battle-training exercises throughout my education. I expect the finals to be the biggest challenge yet, but if I remember what my wise instructors have taught me, I should be able to perform well.”
Never say “but.” Always say “and.” It changes the whole meaning of the sentence for the better, the soft voice advised Gavin in his head, but he couldn’t remember who had spoken those words to him or when.
“Well, there you have it, folks! Gavin Ibori, victor from our lovely home of Calliope! Over the next week before the final competition, we’ll be digging deeper into his life, and you’ll know more than you ever wanted to know about him!”
Gavin called upon every ounce of his training not to blanch at the words. He didn’t want reporters digging around in his life, even if he had nothing to find.
And Calliope was not lovely. The scientists there constantly tested chemical weapons they claimed were safe but weren’t—and left the sector smelling like rancid gas.
Gavin moved over to where his parents and girlfriend were standing. His mother, Colonel Reyna Ibori, hugged him, and the general shook his hand to the tune of a hundred camera clicks and flashes. Windla stood on tiptoe and kissed Gavin’s cheek. He clasped her hands to his chest as she pulled away.
“Shouldn’t you
be on your way to university?” he asked. He was proud of Windla for scoring high enough on the literature exam to gain admission to Chora, even if it seemed as though no one else on Bellerophon was going. He only wished his parents had allowed him to take the exam. Surely if he had won a scholarship, they couldn’t have prevented him from going. Which is probably why they didn’t let me take it.
“I couldn’t miss your big day!” Her blue eyes stared into his brown ones, and for a moment, he forgot the cameras. “I’m catching a train this afternoon. Although maybe I shouldn’t.”
“What?” Gavin squeezed her hands harder. “Why shouldn’t you? Studying literature is your dream!”
“I know,” she said. “But what kind of life can we have together if I go? You’re going to be a great general, and Bellerophon doesn’t hire literature professors.”
Gavin knew he should feel conflicted. He loved Windla, so he should want her to stay, yet every fiber of his being wanted her to do whatever made her happy, whether she was near him or far away. Something deep inside him believed love required sacrificing his happiness for hers.
His father sniffed. “You should do your alleged best friend the honor of listening to his interview. He listened to yours.”
Gavin’s stomach tightened. He’s right, though he just wants to stop me from changing my mind and convincing Windla to stay. His father thought Gavin could do better than a woman who always had her head in a book, but Gavin didn’t think he could do better than an intelligent woman who would do an excellent job helping raise their children.
Every time he had that thought, though, a deep voice in his head told him he was forbidden from having children. He assumed he had over-internalized his father’s lecture about the mission being the most important thing, but his father’s tenor did not match the timbre of the command. Realizing he still wasn’t listening to his friend’s speech, Gavin turned his attention to Archon.
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