Lasers, Lies and Money Page 6

  The crew went silent.

  Except for Mero. “So why aren't we doing that right this instant?” he said.

  “And, moreover,” said Dr. Wolff, glancing at Mero, “why don't you look pleased about this?”

  “Because this is the sort of thing we all need to decide together,” said Rurthk. “The offer is from Sweetblade.”

  The crew went silent. Without exception.

  *

  On the planet of Volpone, two Petaurs scrambled down the street.

  “Ray~~ne?” the female suddenly cried in a singsong voice.

  “What is it, Ikki, my dear?” said the male.

  “What are we going to have at our party?”

  “An excellent question! Let's see now … Hats!”

  “Hats?”

  “Big, fancy hats.”

  “With giant feathers!” suggested Ikki.

  “With giant feathers!” agreed Rayne. “And bowls of fruit, like in those pictures. And Glaber helmets! And Varanid hats, so heavy you have to stoop like this!” He demonstrated.

  “I've never seen a Varanid wear a hat. Do Varanids even have hats?”

  Rayne paused and adopted a professorial tone. “Of course they do! For, if a Varanid didn't have a hat, with what could he cover his head?”

  Ikki's eyes widened. “That's right! Oh, my.” She meditated on this bit of reasoning for a moment before adding, “But what else will we have at the party?”

  “Champagne!”

  “Every party has to have champagne,” Ikki agreed. “And party games?”

  “Many party games. And prizes.”

  “Toys!” said Ikki.

  “Cakes!” said Rayne.

  “A ghost train!”

  “Yes, yes, exactly. I should write this down.” Rayne fumbled through his clothes looking for a notepad he had dropped three days ago.

  “Ray~ne?”

  “Ikki?”

  “How we are going to afford all this,” began Ikki, taking out a small purse and opening it for Rayne's benefit, “when we have no money?”

  Rayne looked at the empty interior of the purse. “No money!” he cried. “By the Ancestral Abyss! I had forgotten! In that, my dear Ikki, I fear we have no choice but to make some money?”

  “And how are we going to do that?”

  “Why, we're going to steal!”

  “Steal?” Ikki's ears perked up. She jumped a clear three feet into the air. “Again?”

  “Again.”

  Ikki jumped three feet in the air. “Yes!”

  “But we will need disguises.”

  “Can I choose the disguises this time?”

  “I did last time, so that is only fair.”

  “But Rayne?”

  “Yes?”

  “How are we going to buy disguises when we have no money?”

  Rayne paused. “A difficult conundrum indeed. We will have to steal some disguises in order to steal in order to have a party.”

  “What an excellent plan!” cried Ikki. “Then I will find some costumes.” She bounded ahead gleefully, and burst into a glide.

  Rayne followed her lead.

  Chapter 14: Sukone

  Rurthk sat on a tiny atmospheric shuttle with Eloise and Mero. The pilot, a Glaber in armour showing the serrated knife of Sweetblade's sigil, had not spoken to them since their arrival.

  Ahead of them, a gas giant planet was visible on the screen. Its immense rings, fifty times as big as the planet itself, formed a silver disk, cut in one section by the planet's shadow.

  The shuttle passed beyond the rings, to where to planet's surface extended below them in a landscape of pale brown and orange storms. The pilot took the shuttle down, diving towards the cloud deck.

  They had taken the job, of course. The vote was almost unanimous. Dr. Wolff had abstained. It was less than ideal, but eight hundred thousand credits spoke volumes, especially when you had a diet of nothing but mycoprotein and algae to look forward to. So Rurthk accepted the offer, and in return received a set of co-ordinates for one of the sparsely-inhabited regions of the galaxy. When they jumped in, this shuttle had been waiting for them, to take them to Sukone.

  The shuttle ploughed through the cloud deck and kept descending. The views outside looked unreal. A cavernous space beneath the clouds, largely dark but penetrated with weak columns of sunlight, thousands of kilometres across. It went on and on until it was lost in a brownish haze.

  The shuttle kept descending. It rumbled softly as the air thickened. By now the pressure had risen to five atmospheres.

  “It would actually be hilarious,” Mero opined, “if he's just been ordered to take us down until the shuttle collapses, so they can take the ship without resistance.”

  The Glaber pilot ignored this comment. Rurthk eyed him. It was true, a low-ranking Glaber probably was loyal enough to do such a thing. But … no. If Sweetblade did want to kill him, there'd be easier ways to do it, which wouldn't lose the shuttle.

  Eventually, when the console read out close to nine atmospheres of pressure, Rurthk saw something in the distance. First, it appeared as a ripple, a disturbance in the hydrogen atmosphere. Then he could make the source of that disturbance: A triangular aircraft.

  As they approached, he realised how large it was. Half a kilometre long, riding on two fusion jets, hidden deep below the cloud deck of a gas giant.

  It was less a craft than a base. Fully enclosed, armoured, laser turrets lining its upper surface.

  The pilot levelled their descent and pulled alongside the base. Travelling at this speed and this pressure made the shuttle shudder and rattle.

  A clamp emerged from a hatch on the side of the aircraft and grasped the shuttle with a clunk. It retracted, pulling them inside. The hatch closed behind them. There was a pause as air cycled outside, then the shuttle was pulled further in.

  The shuttle's door opened and the pilot stood to guide them out.

  Rurthk glanced at his companions, then headed outside.

  The air was warm. Varanid temperature. The room was small, poorly lit by glowing strips set into the walls, with a textured carbide floor. Gravity a little heavier than comfortable, maybe 1.4 gees. Presumably the craft had generators counteracting the planet's natural gravity.

  A human with a pristine white suit, slicked-back hair, and a predatory grin stood at the door with his hands behind the back.

  “Captain Rurthk, is it?” he said, though it was clear he wasn't terribly interested in an answer. He looked them over as though he was considering how best to kill them, and daring them to make a move.

  Mero stared back. It was subtle, but Rurthk could still see it. His lips were pulled back ever so slightly, showing a hint of teeth, His body was tense, ready to spring into action if need be. He faced the human straight on. Just try me, his posture seemed to say.

  Rurthk had no interest in this posturing. “Yes,” he said, “we're here to see Sukone.”

  The man nodded. “Follow me. The name's Zino, by the way.”

  He turned suddenly and summoned them with a hooked finger. Rurthk snorted softly. He had always wondered why humans trying to look dangerous showed off their hands when all they had were those flat, flimsy, useless claws.

  Zino let them down the corridor. As they passed through another door, the stark interior suddenly became much more luxurious. Polished flagstones covered the floor. The walls were decorated with mosaics showing Varanids in heroic poses. Gilt fittings gave off light. The whole thing was a tacky imitation of a classic Varanid palace.

  Zino stopped at a door and tapped a panel by the wall. After a moment, the door opened, and Zino led them inside.

  Sukone lay sprawled out on a cushioned stone bench on the middle of the room under the glare of several heat lamps hanging from the ceiling. His swirling red and green scales glittered in the light. A fireplace against the far wall roared softly.

  “Come in, my friends. Come in!” he said with a voice like a rockslide.

  Zino led them i
nside and up to Sukone's bench, then retreated to a respectful distance and stood with his hands behind his back.

  “Captain Rurthk, yes,” Sukone went on. “I have heard that name more than once in my dealings with others. Admired by your friends, hated by your enemies – of which there are more than a few. Just as a man should be. And who are your associates?”

  “Eloise, and Mero,” said Rurthk, nodding at each in turn.

  “The hands-on crew, the brave ones, yes?” said Sukone. “Brave enough to walk unarmed into a mobster's lair.”

  “Seems it would require rather more bravery to walk in here armed,” observed Rurthk.

  Sukone laughed. “Yes. Yes, indeed! One might say foolhardy, but I believe that 'foolhardy' and 'sensible' are simply the coward's self-serving way of saying 'brave' and 'cowardly'. Well! No one should be here who is not prepared to face death. Isn't that right, Felix?”

  “Quite so, Mr. Sukone,” said Zino. His grin seemed to say he knew something no one else in the room did.

  Sukone looked Rurthk over once more.

  “So, the job –” began Rurthk.

  “That supreme rarity, an independent Glaber. Most Glaber are followers. A few are rulers. But you have none of that. Neither a leader nor a follower be, as they say. Your ship's name … Outsider.” Sukone switched from Isk to say the ship's name in English. “One who stands outside the established order.”

  “The view from outside is usually better,” said Rurthk.

  Sukone nodded, thinking it over as if the comment were some supreme wisdom. “But the opportunities to find work are less so. Hence why I called you here.”

  Rurthk sighed internally. At last, he thought.

  “The richest person on the planet Volpone is a human called Tommy Egliante. He is a former associate of Sweetblade. An associate, never a member. I want you to steal from him. You are comfortable with theft, aren't you?”

  “Absolutely,” said Rurthk. “But, since you're hiring us, I'm guessing this isn't an ordinary theft.”

  “Indeed not,” said Sukone. “Egliante's compound has ... considerable security. Fortunately for us, he is hosting a garden party in five days. And fortunately for you, we have acquired invites, access codes, and a number of other tools that you may find useful.”

  “So we go in as guests, sneak into his … secret money vault?” began Rurthk.

  “Yes,” said Sukone. He picked up a tablet with a middle arm and, extending it, showed it to Rurthk. It displayed diagrams and maps of a mansion. “He keeps his wealth stored in these three rooms. Do not try to download the money. They are encrypted and that require Egliante's personal code. And even a successful attempt will alert him. Simply take the hard drives and replace them with fakes. Then return the hard drives to us.”

  Rurthk nodded. “Sounds simple enough.” He snorted. “But doubtless it won't be.”

  “You have a reputation for thinking on your feet and working your way out of difficult situations,” said Sukone. “I hope it is earned.”

  “You said the hard drives are encrypted?” said Eloise.

  “Yes,” said Sukone. “And I must stress this point. If you try to access them, we will lose the money permanently.” He looked up at the three of them and gave an insincere smile that showed off a full set of teeth. “If that happens, my partnership with you will come to a quick and spectacularly bloody end. Do you understand?”

  Rurthk, unfazed, nodded. “No dipping our hands in the bag. Got it.”

  “I do, of course, trust in your sense of honour,” said Sukone. “But in times like this, one can't be too careful.”

  “That must mean you have someone else getting Egliante's code,” said Rurthk.

  Sukone's smile vanished. “You are clever, Captain. Especially for a Glaber. But I think it would be in your best interest to devote your intelligence to your part of the plan – and nothing else.”

  Rurthk looked at his companions. “Well?”

  “Eight hundred thousand, Cap,” said Mero.

  Eloise chewed her lip in thought. “I think we can manage it,” she said.

  Rurthk turned back to Sukone. “In that case, I think we can do business.”

  *

  Olivia sat in her quarters with a tablet propped in front of her. The blank page stared back at her as if in accusation. Her hands hovered over it.

  We have a job, she typed. It could be a big one. Our employer is, well, I suppose you'd call him a “character and a half”. He's pretty scary. She paused to read back what she'd just written. It felt ridiculous, childish. A character and a half? What did that even mean? She'd heard it plenty when she was growing up, but written down it just looked ridiculous.

  She gave her tablet a gesture to contract. The words vanished, and it shrunk into a small transparent slip.

  Why was she even writing this? She didn't owe anyone a letter. And yet, over the past week or so, now she was somewhat used to the rhythms of life aboard the Outsider, the idea of writing one plagued her. At first it had been an idle thought, but it kept returning.

  Perhaps, she supposed, now that she wasn't so focussed on running, she had time to feel homesick. Ridiculous, but there it was.

  If she was going to send it, she knew she couldn't include anything that would give away where she was. Even a tiny ship like this could be found – and the people after her had resources. In short, writing a letter was a bad idea no matter which way one looked at it.

  She gestured at her tablet to extend again. The words reappeared. She looked at them for a while, then wrote, I still don't feel like I belong here.

  Chapter 15: Parties and Blood

  Ikki and Rayne appeared before the proprietor of a clothes shop with giant grins plastered on their faces.

  “Greetings, good sir!” said Rayne.

  “We are merely browsing, good sir,” said Ikki.

  The Albascene's upper section turned slightly, as if looking at them both. “Very well … ?” it said after a moment.

  Ikki led Rayne up and down the aisles, head turning quickly. “Too furry. Too confining. Not confining enough. No … no … no … no …”

  Five minutes later, she led him out of the shop and into the street and put her head in her hands. “Nothing!” she cried. “Nothing is suitable! The plan is ruined.”

  “Don't worry, my dear Ikki. For I shall pick out a disguise for us,” said Rayne.

  “No!” Ikki slammed her fist into the open palm of her other hand. “This is something I have to do … alone.” She paused. “With your help, my dear.”

  Something caught her eye from across the street. “It's perfect!” she said, pointing.

  There were two humans at the outdoor seating area of an expensive cafe. The woman had diamond pins holding up her hair; the man had an immaculate designer suit. Both had hung their tasteless snakeskin leather coats over the back of their chairs.

  “The plan is saved!” cried Ikki.

  “I'll take hers,” said Rayne.

  “And I'll take his,” said Ikki.

  They grabbed each other's hands and twirled in the street for a moment.

  “Rayne?”

  “Yes, Ikki?”

  “I love you!”

  “I love you too!”

  They stopped twirling. Ikki's eyes narrowed at the couple in the cafe. The man had got up to order. The woman was absorbed in a game on her tablet.

  “This is going to take all our skills and cunning,” Ikki said. “Let's do it!”

  The two Petaurs burst into action, scampering across the street and towards the cafe. Their tails flicked out and lifted the coats off the chairs as they ran past. They were already halfway down the street when they heard the woman's voice call out, “Hey. Hey! Stop!”

  “Up?” said Ikki.

  “Up,” said Rayne.

  They turned a corner and scrambled up the side of a building, going from window to window. Two floors up, they leapt and glided, trailing the coats behind them in their back legs. They passed o
ver a wall, landed, and started running again.

  They kept going, following a knotted, random path through the city until they were tired out. Panting, they came to a halt and swapped coats.

  “Very dashing!” Ikki told Rayne.

  “Beautiful!” Rayne told Ikki, swishing his new coat.

  “The perfect disguise,” said Ikki.

  Rayne investigated the pockets of his coat, pulling out various bits and pieces, at last coming to a square of printed carbon fibre. He read it. “You are invited to this year's garden party at the fabulous Egliante Estate.” He turned to Ikki. “We can get into Tommy Egliante's party. You know what this means?”

  Solemnly, Ikki nodded.

  “A theft!” said Rayne.

  “A party!” said Ikki.

  *

  When the Outsider had jumped away, Sukone summoned Zino back.

  Sukone was still speaking into the comm: “Take us to the next planet.”

  “Yes, sir,” came the reply

  Sukone killed the line and turned to Zino with a large grin. “Well,” he said. “I believe this is it.”

  Around them, the ship groaned as it began a slow climb out of the atmosphere.

  “This,” continued Sukone, “is the end of Albert Wells. We have stopped the most important trade of his career.”

  I stopped it, you mean, though Zino, without letting his expression change.

  “We have alienated or removed his allies, And with the information on those hard drives, we will finally be able to remove him completely,” said Sukone. He stretched lazily beneath his heat lamp. “The will to ascend, to become something better, is present throughout nature,” Sukone said. “On every planet with life, regardless of its biology, the will to ascend is present from bacteria to sapients. But in our squeamishness, we have forgotten that it comes with a cost. The fuel of nature is shed blood. We must claw our opponents down to become better than what we are.”

  He turned back to Zino.

  “I respect Albert Wells. I have enjoyed his company and his conversation. But his life is the price we must pay to ascend. We will take his place, then we will be close to ruling all of Sweetblade. We will be very powerful men, Felix.”