2.46 Pieces on the Board

46 – Pieces on the Board

Hector leaned against the corner of the building, safely enshrouded in warm, shifting aura that bent the glow of the streetlights, making him into a shadow. He was watching Sass as she shifted from foot to foot nervously, waiting for someone to answer the buzzer at the narrow metal gate. A much larger gate, further along the side of the courtyard, would allow vehicles to come and go.

They were still in town, though a dozen blocks from the markets and bars on the main street. It was a neighborhood of walled-in villas and tall condos that evoked a Mediterranean architectural mood. According to Evie, most of the residents were researchers who worked at the university or one of the many corporate labs—a place for the Imperial elite to feel at home while they did their stint out in the sticks. It made sense that Iris would have a place there.

Hector silently moved closer, still hugging the wall, still lurking in the long shadows of the slowly deepening sunset. He wanted to see what sort of scanner array they had aimed at the gate—if it was sophisticated, then his Shadow Stalk wasn’t going to cut it; he’d need to use Ghost Reaver or even Shadow Step if he wanted to stay close to Sass—something he’d promised to do.

To his relief, he saw a standard security cam mounted on a nearby post. He had to be careful with his aura pool now that he was back on the Sol side of the rift; his ambient regeneration was much higher than before, thanks to his similite-infused skeleton, but it still wasn’t enough to run Shadow Stalk indefinitely. If he started throwing in other costly abilities, he’d drain his pool in no time.

As he drew close, peering past Sass into the wide, well-landscaped courtyard, a man in a suit—obvious muscle—approached, looking Sass up and down from behind dark glasses. “You got any weapons?”

“I, um, I’m Saskia. I’m here to see—”

“I know who you are. Miss Sparling will see you, but I’ll need to take your weapons.”

Sass shook her head, holding up her chrome hands, fingers splayed. “I’m not carrying.”

They’d left their bags in the cab around the corner after reserving the vehicle for the rest of the evening. It was risky, Hector supposed, considering someone might have been monitoring the vehicle, but he didn’t think so. There was no reason that Freddy’s cousin would know to look for Sass; he didn’t even know Hector was outside the rift. Maintaining constant surveillance on all the cabs in town—all the public transit, rental vehicles, and ride shares—would be too much for an operation that size.

His hands are full dealing with the rift, the IG, and Gladia’s crew.

//Can you be so sure?//

I helped Drake in similar situations. How many times did he have me root out troublemakers on one crew or another? If Balus didn’t even bring his own ship, and he’s trying to get control of Gladia’s with her loyalists still aboard, then he’s spreading himself too thin. We’ll use that.

“Come on,” the muscle said. “Just stay close.” He opened the gate, and Sass walked through, pausing there in the courtyard with the gate held wide. She made a show of looking left and right, stalling so it would be easy for Hector to slip through behind her.

She pointed to the left, at a sleek black transport van. “Does she have company?” It was a good question. Not only did it raise the point that neither she nor Hector knew what they were walking into, but it distracted the guard. When he glanced at the vehicle, Hector made his move, slipping into the courtyard behind Sass and silently padding out of the pool of light thrown by the lamppost at the gate. His ability did an excellent job of hiding him—almost made him invisible—but Hector knew someone paying attention up close could spot him.

“Just follow me,” the man grunted, turning to walk toward the villa’s main entrance. Hector followed, and Sass pulled the same kind of trick with the front door, hanging onto it for several seconds before letting it fall closed. Hector took advantage of those few seconds and slipped inside, stepping into a short hallway that led to a big, built-in hall tree.

“Come on,” the guard grunted, and Sass hurried after him down the hallway.

Hector followed.

Sounds came to him, bouncing off the ceramic tiles—a woman’s voice, strident with frustration. Hector recognized the speaker, and it wasn’t Iris. Gladia’s here. He’d hoped to get word about Lemon from Iris, but this was even better. If Gladia Ventress was hiding at the house, then it meant she and Iris were working together, if not necessarily allies.

As they approached the expansive, high-ceilinged parlor from which the voices echoed, Hector paused in the hallway, pressing himself into a recessed alcove filled with potted succulents. He glanced at his aura pool; he’d already burned through half. At the rate it was going, he figured he had a few minutes at most, so he crept toward the larger room, hoping that there would be a place where he could lurk and listen without the need for his aura ability.

“Oh, hello, Saskia,” said a familiar soprano. Iris sounded almost smug in the deliberate sing-song of her tone.

“Um, Miss Sparling.”

“Quite a different tune you were singing at the gate. When I called, you were positively rude.”

“Well, um…”

Hector reached the arch just in time to watch as Gladia stood from a plush white recliner to ask, “Who is this, Iris?”

“This is the girl I was telling you about. She goes by Sass, and she’s been, well, training with Hector, or so it seems.”

“Hector, hmm?” Gladia paced toward the big security guard and Sass. She was wearing a loose, silky bodysuit that hung off her frame in shimmering, pearlescent streamers. They flowed behind her as she walked. Hector would have bet every bit he’d squirreled away that it was some kind of smart-cloth—a defense system that would interfere with projectiles and melee weapons alike.

He noted her gold-and-ivory cybernetic arm. He didn’t doubt its components were mostly similite. She wouldn’t sacrifice any aura potentia with a mundane piece of chrome—not a Ventress.

Sass looked at Gladia, licked her lips, then stole a glance over her shoulder toward the hallway. For the briefest fraction of a second, Hector felt exposed, and he shifted to his right, moving toward a massive planter holding a tree-sized succulent with spear-shaped leaves. He couldn’t blame her for the tell; she’d already done better than he’d expected.

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Gladia picked up on it, though, catching Sass’s glance toward the hall. “Is he out there somewhere? Did he manage to slip out of the rift? I’m sure Balus is watching it—”

“Like I was telling you, Gladia,” Iris said, still reclining on a couch, “my contact at the IG said some survivors came through, but neither Hector nor your Freddy were among them.”

Gladia waved her off without a glance. “Let the girl answer.” She moved closer, her golden eyes peering into Sass’s menacing skull tattoo. “Has he? Contacted you?”

“I just…” Sass took a step back, but the muscle was there. He didn’t put a hand on her, but she bumped into his broad chest and stopped moving. Folding her arms, she said, “I was just hoping Iris might know where the others are. I mean Hector’s other friends. Something happened at our house.”

“Lemon and Orin are here, safe, and so is her little brother,” Gladia replied, surprising even Hector. “As for the other one, Demon, I believe he called himself…I’m sorry, but he died.” Hector had been about to crouch behind the planter and cancel his ability, allowing his aura to regenerate, but suddenly he was tired of sneaking around. I’ve heard enough, anyway.

//Hector, are you—//

I promised Freddy.

With that, Hector stepped out from behind the planter and cancelled his Shadow Stalk ability. He almost chuckled when nobody reacted. Gladia had her eyes fixed on Sass, and Sass and the muscle were both looking the wrong way. Iris was focused on empty space, staring at something on her AUI. He cleared his throat. “I’m here, Gladia.”

The muscle whirled, a fat slug-thrower in his fist, and Gladia stepped away from Sass, her arm a blur of nano-molecular parts and crackling energy. Hector held his arms away from his body, palms out. “Don’t shoot.”

“How,” the guard started to ask, but Gladia had already caught on. Iris, too—she’d jumped to her feet, but Hector could already see her posture relaxing.

“Gil,” Gladia said, putting her hand on the bodyguard’s arm. “Lower your weapon. If he’d wanted to do us harm, I think it would have happened already.”

Hector inclined his head as Gil, scowling, lowered his pistol.

“Now go and check on the others while I debrief this man. He knows something about Freddy.” Gladia stared at Hector. “Don’t you?”

“I have news…” After a brief hesitation, he added, “Good news, I think.”

The muscle—Gil—scowled as he nodded, turning to trudge with heavy steps down a different hallway. Hector looked around the big parlor—it was almost an atrium with all the plants, the colorful tile floor, and the cement-like walls. The tall windows were dark with twilight, so the space was dim, and he felt some of his old paranoia slinking into his mind. “Where’s your real muscle?”

Gladia didn’t hesitate. “Flint? He’s monitoring my ship—trying to gauge our enemy faction’s progress.”

Hector nodded toward the couch behind Iris. “Why don’t you all sit down?”

“I should be offended,” Iris said, pushing her glossy lips into a pout. “You snuck into my home uninvited and now you hardly have eyes for me.”

Hector chuckled, admiring her cool. He looked like a madman—filthy with blood and dirt caked under his nails, matting his hair, and staining his flesh. The only clean thing about him was the ill-fitting windbreaker. “Sorry, Iris, but there are some big pieces on this board.”

“Oh!” She clapped her hands together. “A chess reference?”

“Hardly,” Gladia clicked her tongue. “All chessboards have the same pieces. I’d say it’s more a reference to naval action maps. The sorts the Empire uses when plotting out—”

“Ladies, I didn’t mean anything special.” Hector stuffed his hand in his pocket, wrapping his fingers around Freddy’s neurodeck as he gestured to the couch. “Please. Let me think about how to say all this. I didn’t expect everyone to be here.”

“So you did come to see me!” Iris crowed, languidly sitting down and crossing her legs. She wore a white pantsuit with flared cuffs over white leather boots. Hector wanted to think she looked like a kid playing dress-up, but she had a kind of elegant style about her, despite the teenaged body she wore.

Gladia sat beside her, but she didn’t relax. She was like a dog with a bone. “Freddy?”

Hector nodded, nudging Sass toward another chair. “Sit down.”

“I’m sorry I looked back—”

“Nah, you did fine.” As Sass sat, he looked at Gladia. “Freddy’s good. He fought like hell in there—really. You would have been—”

“Hector Valerius, please don’t beat around the bush. What’s happened to him?”

“Well, your cousin’s pet killer came into the rift.”

“Lux!”

“Yeah. He wasn’t going to let Freddy out of there alive, and I’m not—” Hector shook his head. “What about Flint? Can he fight him?”

Gladia sprang to her feet. “If Freddy’s still in the rift, then Flint will have to try!”

Hector gestured to the couch again. “Relax. He’s out.”

“He is?”

“Well, I had a way to sneak out, but I had to, um, carry him.”

Iris motioned with one hand, gesturing from Hector’s feet to his head. “You’re certainly strong enough!”

Hector shook his head. “Not like that.” He pulled the neurodeck out of his pocket and held out his hand, palm up. The golden rectangle glinted luxuriously in the dim light. “He’s here.”

Gladia gasped as she rose from the couch again. It struck Hector that she no longer seemed old—not in the slightest. She moved fluidly, and her fingers were dexterous as she snatched the neurodeck from his palm. He wasn’t trying to keep it away from her, but he was still surprised by the quickness of the action.

“His corpus?” she asked, breathless as she clutched the dense device.

“Buried. We wanted to keep Lux busy looking for him.”

“Was that a neurodeck?” Iris asked, still seated.

Gladia ignored the question. “I have a new corpus vivum for him. It’s on the ship, along with mine.”

“That’s what we need to talk about. Your cousin.” Hector nodded to the device Gladia still clutched, holding it close to her chest. “Freddy was telling me about him. I’ve done a little digging since I got out—you and Freddy are going to be on the run if you don’t think of a way to handle him. You’ve got to get control of the narrative.”

Gladia nodded. “I was right about you, wasn’t I? You are someone special. Oh—” Hector didn’t miss the flicker of doubt and distress that passed through her eyes before she brought her emotions under control. “I may have caused you some trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

“Flint’s been watching my ship, as I told you, and he saw an acquaintance of yours brought in—Grando Scrim.”

Hector’s fists clenched involuntarily as he growled, “Why the hell would your cousin bring Grando Scrim here? He doesn’t know me! He’s after Freddy—after you!”

Gladia sighed, and though she did well to mask any fear she might be feeling, she took a single step away from Hector and shifted slightly, putting her cybernetic arm a little closer to him. “I told you I may have caused you some trouble. You see, when the rift was sabotaged, I was grasping at straws. Of course, I’d already looked into you and the others on Freddy’s team, and I knew that Scrim was bankrolling you and your allies here at Kessler’s Reach. I sent my agents to further investigate him—and you.”

“And Balus was watching your agents.” Hector scowled, though he turned away from her and paced, trying to release some tension. He’d always intended to deal with Balus; the man had tried to kill him and his team, after all. Still, the idea that Grando was on that ship, being forced to spill his guts about Hector and his secrets—the idea that Balus might already know that he was Hector Finalis, that the bastard might spread that information around—was enough to make him see red. He had to fight to maintain his composure, to give his logical mind a moment to breathe.

“Hector…” Sass said, her voice hesitant.

“Angels,” Iris added, almost whispering. “I can feel the heat coming off him.”

“We must remain clear-headed, Hector,” Gladia said, stepping closer to him. When she reached out with her gold-and-ivory arm, Hector wanted to jerk away, but he let her grasp his shoulder. He let her draw close, whispering, “I’m sorry about your friend, but I can undo some of this. I can protect your secrets. My ship’s AI is still loyal to me. We have a window. While Lux is in the rift, and before Balus’s people gain full control of Maidensong. I can rewrite this little story he’s been trying to spin; Balus has allies, but they are distant. We just—”

Hector spun, locking eyes with her, and she flinched. To her credit, though, she didn’t release his shoulder as he growled, “Need to kill the bastard.”