Capital Games (Audacity Saga Book 2)

by R. K. Thorne

  The “wine” arrived, and she pinned the bartender with a glare he hadn’t earned. “How do people talk over this racket?” she shouted at him.

  He pointed at the dozens of small arches lining the walls. “Sound buffer over there if you got deals to make.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t sweat it, lovely. You want company in one, or anywhere else, you just say the word.”

  She was too surprised to even glare at him over that. She grabbed her drink and pointed an index finger in that direction, right in front of Kael’s face so he’d finally look at her. “That way. Come on!” She strode away, hoping to God he would follow, and snagged one of the few open ones. It had a high seat rounded in a U shape and a dark wood table, and it barely fit the two of them. Delicate violet flowers with long unfurling petals hung above their heads and around the arch in exquisite cascades. As she slipped through the electronic barrier, all the sound muffled. Praise heaven. As if to rub in the effect, a fountain trickled water down carefully placed rocks on the wall behind them, ending comfortably above the seating area. Like a fragging spa.

  He slid in beside her and let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, this is good. Still got a good view. None of the jackhammer in the ear.”

  She nodded, said nothing, pretended to be as interested in scanning as he was.

  “What do you think that platform is for?” He indicated the raised area in the center with his chin. It glowed silver and bright, like moonlight shown on it, however impossible that was.

  She scanned the area around it. “Dancers? Some kind of show?”

  “Maybe.”

  “But then why is there a railing? And no dancers?” And tough-looking guys manning the stairs leading up to it.

  “This doesn’t look like a rough crowd. Why is nothing happening there? You know, it kind of looks like…” He hesitated.

  “A fighting ring?”

  “Yeah. But I don’t see any fighters. You think that could be what he meant by competitions?”

  “Could be. I don’t see anything else to compete at around here, other than who can look the most bored.”

  “Ah, you gotta look harder. Those two over there are competing for who is prettier and gets more attention. That group is competing for who can slip the bartender the most bucks so that maybe one of them can actually feel a buzz. Those two are competing over the same woman. And, you’re right, there’re at least ten boredom competitions going on.” He grinned at her, eyes meeting hers for a split second. “So what now?”

  She snorted. “Let’s just wait for a bit. Get the lay of the land. See if we can spot either of our targets.”

  He leaned back. “Sit and watch is something I can do. Better than stand and watch.”

  “And you thought you got out of the Theroki so you could quit standing around on guard duty.”

  He smiled. “Hush, now.”

  “I want their attention.”

  “You want accurate attention, though. Let’s not have them thinking I’m something I’m not. To your point, this feels more like attack dog than guard dog to me. And this is guard duty I chose. That makes a world of difference.”

  “Point taken.”

  “And no one’s shooting at me.”

  “Yet.” Now that they were in the alcove, she held her comm over the wine as it did its little scan dance and took a sample, came back green. She took a sip while she checked his too. Surprisingly good. “So we got time to kill. While we’re on the subject of your former establishment—you have any old colleagues you miss?”

  “Nah. My next up—my commanding officer—was fine. Do you have any old squad mates you miss?”

  Her eyes darkened. “None of them are left.”

  He frowned. “You went back for them already? Tried to get in touch?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe I should be trying harder to reach out,” he muttered. “Especially those ones I knew who didn’t join up on their own. Not that we had a lot of heart-to-heart talks. So what happened to them?”

  “Who?”

  “The members of your squad. Your teammates.”

  “The ones I was networked to? I… don’t know exactly. It was over a year before I could function again, and by the time we could look for them, the unit had been broken up. Most had no record of their discharge—or even of their service. They’d just vanished.”

  He blew out a breath. “You think it has something to do with… her?”

  “I’m sure of it. If I find her, I’m hoping I’ll find out whatever happened to them.”

  “I hope you do too.”

  Kael tried not to sit stiffly beside Ellen or to chug whatever weird concoction they’d acquired from the bartender who’d hit on her, but it wasn’t easy. It was like everything in here was designed to make him crazy. The noise. Her presence and everything about her. The scantily-clad people constantly hitting on anything with legs—and the two of them in particular. Only the waterfall behind him seemed to want to help; it reminded him of Taylor’s various stress ministrations. He actually leaned into it. His breath slowed a little. Strange to be gaining control of that sort of feeling. He focused on his quest of not looking at her while scanning for Vivaan.

  Of course, he had to figure the attention was because they were new here, they were in much better shape than the average partier due to their jobs, and, thanks to Josana, they were dressed to impress apparently. He might not be a Capital type, but he knew these sorts of places on other worlds, darker and dirtier ones. These sorts of places had a lot of similarities no matter the planet. The people grew to know everyone, often ad nauseam, and newcomers were a rare form of entertainment. Not every bar or club or beer hall—or supposed wine garden—was that way; some were filled with hard drinkers who had the business of drinking to do, others to watch sports together in casual and temporary company. But this one had all the indications of the sort of gossip hive that meant many eyes were on them right now, even if he couldn’t see that many people directly staring.

  He needed something to keep himself busy.

  “Do you have a photo of Kentt? I’m not sure I’d recognize her,” he said.

  “Oh, of course. Not enough time for a briefing on this one, huh?” She pulled up a photo of a bright sapphire cape, wavy and lush hair of the same color peaking out from under it.

  “Uh, you can’t see her face?”

  “Yep. This was the best one we could find. Apparently she’s kept her image quite secretive.”

  “Interesting,” he muttered. “Now why would she want to do that?”

  “So she can wander around here without us seeing her?”

  He doubted that was really true, if this place was as tight-knit as he believed. It might shield her from outsiders, but not the many regulars. But if none of them had shared a picture on the net either, perhaps he was wrong. He shrugged and kept searching the crowd.

  Her comm on the table glowed softly for a second, and he glanced down at it automatically.

  Dr. Crispin Ostrov: Ready for the details? I’m eager for that rematch.

  He flicked his eyes away, determined to ignore the steel vise that was tightening around his chest. Not to mention the anger that rippled underneath.

  She was eying something in the crowd and didn’t pick up the comm. “Look over there, by that tree with the three branches. Is that… ?”

  He squinted. “I don’t… maybe.” There were many men that could match Vivaan’s description from afar there, but, well, they’d check in with each of them if they had to. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  Dr. Crispin Ostrov: Here’s the next game link. Unless you’d like to admit defeat ahead of time.

  Kael tore his eyes away again, brow pinching, and this time Ellen noticed, picking up the phone and barking out a laugh. He tried not to let it stab at him, tried not to reflexively look. Peripheral vision was safer.

  She typed a message back and jammed the comm back into the belt, muttering. “Stupid, stupid,” was the m
ost he caught.

  “Comms can be frustrating buzzards, eh?” Oh, what a ridiculous attempt to pry.

  “Huh? Oh, I guess so, yeah,” she grumbled. “Crappy connection in here. Maybe they have something blocking it? Xi can barely get through.”

  “But Ostrov could?”

  “He just sent text. You know Xi likes video and audio and all she can get. Easiest thing is to stick to the lowest tech you can, in my book. But these keyboards make so many damn mistakes.”

  “You could use voice.” Unless she just didn’t want him to hear what she had to say.

  “Yeah but with all this background noise…” She waved vaguely. “Let’s be honest, I rarely even use voice commands on the ship. Ask Xi.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  She frowned. “Hey, I know how it works. I just—”

  He raised a palm. “I wasn’t implying you didn’t.”

  “You try being hooked up to a network of— Wait, what?”

  “I know you know how it works.”

  “Oh. Right.” She paused. “I never use it because I just want it to be better. That’s all. It’s never better enough.”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “No, I mean…” She fidgeted with the comm. Unusual. “I told you about the telepathy, the blurring of minds, right? But that was only one of two projects they put me in. The other was a direct brain interface into the net. Low latency. Everything at the touch of a thought.”

  “Ah.” He took a sad sip of his drink. It was almost gone. “Nothing is as fast or as easy as a thought.”

  “And it never will be. It doesn’t matter what I use. So I don’t bother. It’s all agonizingly slow.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “No.” Her response was too quick, though, too high. “It was part of what was making me lose my mind. I’m glad it’s gone.”

  He nodded, content to listen.

  She traced a finger around the rim of her glass. “But I dream about it sometimes. In my dreams, I’m so thirsty for it. I feel like I might die. I wake up barely knowing who I am again.”

  “Ouch.” He turned toward her now. He couldn’t listen to that and keep looking away, like he didn’t care. Staring at her was like his limb was slowly burning to a crisp, and he’d have to look away to put it out, but he could manage a few moments more without losing it. He was stronger than a bunch of poorly trained electrical signals in his head. He hoped.

  “I guess some part of me does miss it.” She met his gaze, eyes hardening, and he hoped she couldn’t see the way his hand tightened, clenching his knee till his knuckles were white. “But not the part of me that’s in control.”

  It was too much. He cut away, his eyes back to the crowd.

  And froze. “Hey—there. By the, uh, bubbles.” He knew better than to point, but he tried to jut his chin in the right direction. Bubbles had begun to float from behind a bar at a far wall. A small area held couches—only a few of them in the whole place—where classic Capital types in their timeless robes lounged.

  Sitting on one was Vivaan, in an off white and gray robe of his own.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. He’s alive,” she whispered.

  “You figured him for dead too, huh?”

  She shrugged. “I mean… two weeks, no contact? What is he up to?”

  The woman beside Vivaan rose, a cobalt cape covering her features.

  “Kentt,” Ellen whispered. “They’re together.”

  “Do we—what do we do?”

  She bit her lip. “Sit tight. Not yet. What are they doing?”

  “They were talking. Now she’s leaving.”

  “Shit, they’re both leaving.”

  They watched, tensed. The telepath seemed to be little more than a scrap of fabric that fluttered, slipped between two people, and disappeared. Vivaan, however, went the other direction, melding into the crowd.

  “I can still see him,” she muttered.

  “But not for long. We’re gonna lose him in there.”

  “What are we going to do? Drag him out of there?”

  “That’ll get us kicked out. Maybe you could use your feminine wiles to lure him out to talk.”

  She shot him a glare. “My feminine wiles are getting way too much action tonight. No thanks. Not exactly my weapon of choice.”

  He had to like that answer. “Well, then we keep an eye on him. Look for a chance to approach? Better to approach him without causing a ruckus than scare him off permanently.”

  She frowned but nodded. “At the very least, we can tell her he’s here and he’s alive. Her son likely hasn’t been kidnapped. At least as far as I can tell.”

  “He’s just a big flake and forgot to call home?” He ran a hand through his hair, momentarily confused when that action completed way faster than it had yesterday. Oh, yeah, right, the cut. “She’s gonna be pissed.”

  “It’s strange. He doesn’t seem like the type to just party and forget to check in. His watch didn’t show a history of that, did it?”

  “No, it had him returning home regularly every night. Not that late. If he was dating women, he didn’t stay for breakfast.”

  She snorted. “You’d think his mother would teach him better manners.”

  “Is it good manners to stay for breakfast? No one ever taught me such delicacies of etiquette.”

  Was she blushing? Suddenly her cheeks were changing colors. She shook her head. “I don’t know anything about breakfast, manners, or etiquette, so don’t ask me. I think something else is going on.”

  “Agreed. Question is how do we figure out—”

  Before he could finish the thought, a screeching, rumbling noise from the far right of the cavern-like room pulled everyone up short. People grabbed shoulders and pointed, smiling with what looked like excitement, anticipation.

  A door the size of a lander rolled up and into the wall, revealing a massive, four-armed droid, lit from behind by brutal white light. No, it wasn’t a bot, he realized. The top front panel from where the head should be down to the torso was crystal-blue glass, revealing what looked like human features and handle-like controls.

  The mech was nearly three meters high, taller than any human and even some Teredarks. It pumped its arms at the adoring cheers of the crowd as it stalked forward. In spite of the hulking width of its shoulders and its arms thick as rocket launchers, it moved with efficiency and a certain predatory grace.

  “Uh, Kael?” Ellen was perched forward on the seat beside him.

  “Yeah?”

  “I think I know what the ring is for. And what the competitions are about.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “Me too. You think they have a mech to face off with that thing?”

  “No.” She pointed at a wiry man climbing the stairs of the ring, pumping fists at the crowd, trying to draw their adoration. It didn’t much seem to be working. “Do you?”

  “I think we may be in just slightly over our heads.”

  Ellen scowled, gripping the table hard. “I’m going to kill her. Twice.”

  The mech’s steps were almost birdlike. Its legs bent back, not like human knees, but it seemed light on its feet, agile, ready to peck. Or grab and crush. Not that he couldn’t send a wave of energy slamming it into a wall. But without telekinetic power, it’d be tough to take down.

  The mech actually did a lap around the ring, stalking the mortal fragile human who waited inside. The man didn’t look anything like a fighter. He looked hopped up on chems and like he’d been either dumb or high enough to take a really stupid dare. It veered toward the couches.

  Seeing it coming, Vivaan frowned. Kael keyed in on it. Something was up. He too shifted forward in the seat, both of them teetering on the edge of the sound-dampening platform. No—he should hear what was going on as much as see it. He pushed his head through.

  Immediately the roar of cheering hit him, the music faster and more frenetic, less pounding. The mech stalked toward the bar, titillated some patrons who scurried away with a leer, th
en back toward the couches, and—

  He swore.

  “That mech just took a swipe at him!” Ellen was through the barrier too, glaring.

  “I saw.” Vivaan had dodged, clearly expecting it. He was eying the exit, where Kentt had retreated to, but the mech loomed in the way.

  “C’mon. He might need help.” She was off like a laser beam before he could even agree.

  Since she was taking the direct route, he circled around to come up behind Vivaan through the few narrow passages that led between the couch area and the ring. Or he tried to. The mech moved, and the crowd surged with it, opening gaps and closing others.

  By the time he reached the couches, Ellen was already there. And Vivaan wasn’t.

  “I lost him!” she shouted over the crowd. “I can’t see shit from down here!”

  “Same here!”

  The mech had circled around now and was stomping toward the ring. The poor bastard was doomed.

  That was it. She was sick of this club, sick of these clothes, sick of the pounding noise, and most of all, sick of not knowing what to do. Give her a lab, she could storm it. Busting down doors, taking out targets. If she needed to simply grab Vivaan and run, that would be so much more cut and dry.

  But she’d been so sure he’d been dead—or certain that he wouldn’t be in the first place they looked—that she hadn’t really thought about what they would do if they found him. Not that there had been much time for planning anyway.

  Instead, she grabbed Kael’s arm and dragged him toward the nearest club employee—one of the ring attendants. He wore a nondescript black suit from shoulder to cuff and was fiddling with a tablet as they approached. Just before him, the sound suddenly dampened.

  His eyes lit up warmly at her slowed steps. “Sound bubble. Convenient, no? How can I help you, my darling?”

  “We need to see Ms. Kentt. What do we need to do?” She was all out of charisma for the evening.

  The man looked her up and down.

  She waved a fist at him in response.

  “Nice guns, mademoiselle. You work hard on them, no?” His Common had an exotic accent. Everyone had an accent anymore, but there was something particularly twisty and luxurious about his.