Keltan's Gambit: Chronicles of the Orion Spur Book 2 Read online

  “What’s this?” She held it up to the light when they arrived at the bank of lifts. Her optical sensors detected millions of microdots suspended in the wafer’s crystal matrix.

  “It is your briefing. Baron Revenant didn’t want to trust it to the company’s Cyberweb node. It arrived for you just a few minutes ago.”

  “It’s my briefing?” She turned the thin crystal over in her hands and took a sip of her beverage. “Oh, wait, is this an athenaeum crystal? I’ve never seen one before. I thought they were only used for ultra-secure deep storage. They’re supposed to last forever.”

  “Most companies only use them that way, yes, but I have worked a few places where they are used to convey sensitive information, like now. They don’t last forever, though. I believe the crystalline structure containing the information will degrade after a few hundred-million years,” Haem Ila’Anaeriae said.

  “Oh, only a few hundred-million, huh?” Cygni snorted.

  The lift arrived. Haem Ila’Anaeriae followed her in, and it started moving down.

  “I take it you know where we’re going?” she asked, trying to finish her coffee before they got to the landing pads. Each sip was more sour than the last and she decided to just give up on it.

  “Baron Revenant’s briefing was specific, yes. Please scan the AC with your optics. If you require a AC scanning program, one is available on the company network.”

  “Thanks.” She downloaded the small application and installed it, then held the athenaeum up to the light again. This time, she could feel her optics going over the pattern of data stored in the crystal. Moments after, images and words streamed into her mind fast enough to make her lose her equilibrium.

  “Whoa.” She palmed the wall of the lift for support, dropping the coffee to the floor. Haem Ila’Anaeriae’s hands were at her shoulders in an instant, holding her upright. “Thank you,” she said once she recovered. “I wasn’t ready for that. It was a memory download, I don’t usually do those. Oh shit, sorry about the coffee.”

  “I apologize. I did not know what form the information would take.” Haem Ila’Anaeriae released her. She bent over and picked up the cup. “I will handle this, and a ‘bot will get the spill.”

  “Thank you,” Cygni said, feeling her cheeks heat up.

  The lift came to a stop and its doors slid open to the outside. The damp air of the city swirled around them from across four circular platforms at the base of the tower complex’s spires. Resting on the nearest, some fifteen meters from the lift, was a long black air-car with a chromium trim and tinted windows. She recognized it as a high-end Groombridge model she suspected was a Venerator—the top of the line for luxury air-cars. She and Ila’Anaeriae made their way towards the car through the wind generated by the space-time distortion a kilometer above. The front door swung out and up, and a human with crew-cut hair dressed in a black three-piece suit emerged. His bronzy skin, hooked nose, and high cheekbones stopped her in her tracks.

  Haem Ila’Anaeriae took several more steps before noticing. “Are you all right, Haem Aragón?”

  It couldn’t be him, she thought, but then her eyes fell on the strange opal and gold pin on his lapel.

  “Surprised?” the deep, familiar voice came from his mouth.

  “Oh fuck, it’s you.” She was shocked to see this man again—especially serving as Revenant’s chauffeur. He was the CSA agent, Mr. Tough-Guy, from the Queen Gaia. What the hell was a CSA agent doing chauffeuring for Baron Revenant? Was this his side-job or somethi—She paled as her mind made several quick connections between Baron Revenant’s associations. Could this CSA agent be in league with the VoQuana?

  “I could say the same about you, Miss Lau-Aragón,” he said.

  Haem Ila’Anaeriae looked at each of them several times in quick succession.

  “I met him on the Queen Gaia during the Keltan engagement cruise,” she said. If he was connected to the VoQuana he might know about her sneaking around Baroness Altair’s suite. He could be investigating her, but she refused to give in to the rising anxiety in her stomach.

  “It’s Vargas, Thuban Vargas,” he said.

  She did a quick Cyberweb search. “You’re Baron Vargas’ son? Heir to the Vargas Innovations barony?” She was in shock. “What is an heir doing working for the CSA? Do you really work for the CSA?”

  “I can see why you are a reporter Miss Lau-Aragón. You are full of questions.” His sienna eyes smoldered with contempt.

  “Last time we met you were a CSA agent. Does that funny pin you have on mean you’re only part time?”

  He showed her a ghost of a smile. “No, it does not. Come, Miss Aragón. Baron Revenant is waiting for us.”

  She shared a look with Haem Ila’Anaeriae.

  “Have it your way, Heir Vargas.” Cygni sauntered up to the vehicle, swinging her hips just to see how he would react. She got a frown and a briskly opened door for her trouble.

  She was about to get in when a mechanical screech filled the air. The three of them looked up and saw a taxicab scraping through the gap between the towers. Its dark energy generator fought the whirlwind of the vortex, working so hard it sent pulses of red energy out into the air above them.

  “What the hell?” she said.

  Vargas reached into his jacket and drew out a sleek-looking, black gauss pistol. He rolled each muscle group in succession from his neck to his calves, and held the gun in a relaxed fashion at hip level. Above them the cab pitched to the side then swung about. Its dark energy field flickered down to an ember and it plunged from the sky, slamming down on the landing pad adjacent to theirs with the din of buckling ceramic-polysteel.

  “What the fuck?” She stared at the wreck in disbelief.

  The taxi’s hatch swung open, and a Volgoth dressed in a white-and-blue Elthroa uniform stumbled out. His organic-crystal horns glittered in the sunlight, rising from his temples and curving back towards his thin ears before arching their spiral-ridges forward over his skull. He teetered on shiny, translucent hooves, and the three joints in his legs struggled to find balance before his slight frame plunged forward onto the fastcrete platform.

  Vargas walked towards him bouncing the barrel of his weapon against his thigh.

  “Wait, wait. I think I know who this is.” Cygni rushed ahead of him.

  “Oh no,” she heard Haem Ila’Anaeriae say behind her. “Please forgive him, he’s really very good at what he does, usually.”

  She hurried across the walkway connecting the platforms, trying not to look down at the spinning machines below. She could not fathom their purpose, save perhaps to serve Baron Revenant’s amusement when some unlucky fool fell off the unprotected landing pads. By the time she reached the Volgoth he was on his feet and running the four digits of his hand over the long expanse of oil-black skin between his eyes and muzzle. His fur was a short carpet of black streaked with long, ochre lines covering all but his face, hands, hooves, and horns.

  “Are you all right?” She was surprised to find herself taller than the Volgoth by about fifteen centimeters. Although generally short as a species, the ones that arrested her beneath the Intel-Sys tower were bigger both in the height and muscle department.

  “I am, boss.” He straightened up. The black spheres of his eyes locked onto hers, and his lips pulled back, revealing a broad smile of sharp, inward curving, crystalline teeth.

  “You’re Sanul Mondu?”

  “I am.” His Solan was decent, underpinned with the low gurgle that most Volgoth had beneath their speech. She wasn’t sure, but he also seemed to have a slight slur.

  She glanced back at the wreck of the taxicab. Steam rose from the cracks in its body.

  “Did you pilot that yourself?” She asked as Vargas walked up behind her.

  “It refused to enter the tower complex.” His eyes flickered to the man behind her.

  “So you flew it in? I didn’t know you could put a taxicab on manual,” she said.

  “You can’t,” Vargas stated in quiet
tones.

  “You can’t unless you know how to get into its digital infrastructure.” Sanul grinned.

  “You hacked a cab?” Cygni asked.

  “I was running late.”

  “Unauthorized entry into a public transport’s data structure is a crime,” Vargas said.

  Sanul looked at Vargas’ gun, still bouncing on his thigh.

  “That’s a PX-14 10mm magnetic accelerator semi-automatic pistol isn’t it? It’s not standard issue for corporate security,” Sanul said. “Or for a cop.”

  Vargas chuckled in a mirthless way that sent a chill down Cygni’s spine.

  “They don’t make those anymore, not since the Savorchan conflict. Am I right?”

  “Depends on who you ask,” Vargas said.

  “I suppose it does. It’s cool, very badass.” Sanul licked his lips.

  “Are you going to pay for the taxi?” Vargas asked him.

  “Um, how about I fix it and send it on its way?”

  “Is that what you’re going to tell the police when the cab gets reported missing and they track it here?” Vargas holstered his weapon.

  “Well, they won’t track it here, but maybe?”

  “You’re that good a hacker?” Cygni asked. She was already imagining the possibilities with this Volgoth that didn’t relate to her job with Cosmos Corp. The other hackers she knew worked for the Spur Herald, and probably wouldn’t be willing to help her with her side project without major strings attached.

  “Ah.” He tapped the two thumbs on each hand against the pads of an equal number of fingers.

  “Let’s go, we’re wasting time.” Vargas snorted.

  “Shall I—” Sanul started.

  “Come with us,” Cygni said on impulse.

  Another, goofy smile broke out on his face and he followed her into the air-car.

  “Haem Aragón, the instructions said—“ Haem Ila’Anaeriae started as they approached.

  “Stow it, Ila. The boss said I’m coming.” Sanul winked at nium.

  “Haem Aragón?”

  She hesitated for a moment, but then decided her desire to get to know Sanul Mondu was more pressing than her fear of what Baron Revenant might say about having an uninvited guest along. Sanul and Ila were her staff, after all, and it was probably all right in any case—she hoped.

  “He’s coming,” she said.

  Haem Ila’Anaeriae nodded without further comment.

  They only flew a short distance before Vargas took the air-car down. There was barely time to talk despite her intentions, and other than picking up on some tension between Haem Ila’Anaeriae and Sanul, she learned nothing about her companions before spying their destination through the air-car’s windows.

  Xur’qon Island rested in the center of the Ikuzlu Atoll like the pupil of a watery eye. It was the top of a natural sea mount with shear stone walls rising over five meters above the surface of the lagoon’s placid water. Constructed on its rocky cliffs, the Palace of the Just was a sprawling complex built as a continuous four-story, fifty meter thick, marble ring around the crown of the island. Its edifice was speckled with rippled glass windows set in deep niches from base to top, and guards in brilliant yellow armor walked the flat roof with rifles in hand.

  The palace was a mirror of the city around it with a cloistered garden filled with exotic plants from around the Orion Spur at its heart. In the center of the compound shimmered a small lake with a five-meter tall bronze fountain made of interlocking rings. Each represented a member sovereignty of the Confederation. Cygni had only seen it in pictures and sensory broadcasts on the Cyberweb before now. She decided it looked bigger up close.

  Vargas set the craft down on the landing pad beside the lake. The pulse of anti-gravitational force emitted from the dark energy field pushed waves across the water. He got out and opened the door for her and her company.

  “Ride’s over,” he said.

  “Thank you for not crashing.” Cygni got out, ignoring his offered hand.

  “Thank you, Heir Vargas,” Haem Ila’Anaeriae said in a polite tone as she followed.

  Sanul exited the vehicle with a shrug and a snort.

  A chill breeze cut across the grounds, rippling the leaves in the gardens around them and raising goosebumps on Cygni’s skin.

  “We are at the heart of the Confederation,” Haem Ila’Anaeriae whispered to her. “It is amazing. I never thought to ever see it in person.”

  “I’m surprised Baron Revenant wanted to meet here,” she whispered. The memories encoded in the athenaeum laid out what to expect today along with the need for absolute secrecy, but didn’t prepare her for the feeling of standing on ground that only barons and premiers usually got to walk upon.

  “Follow me.” Vargas started walking across the pad towards a pair of heavy bronze doors set in the palace façade without waiting for a response.

  Covered in figures carved in high-relief, they resembled the walls of a restaurant she ate at with Shkur, and displayed scenes of Relaen and Cleebians constructing the palace. They parted and the group filed into a paneled room that smelled of a sweet, earthy material that Cygni realized was a combination of varnish and the wood beneath it. She noted a few chairs and benches in the large chamber before Vargas led them deeper inside. As they passed through hallways lit by crystal chandeliers and carpeted with crimson rugs she was reminded of the Queen Gaia, but as opposed to the newness of that vessel, the materials here had clear signs of wear and the ethereal weight of history that only very old things were able to project.

  Vargas took them up two flights of spiraling stairs into a four-by-six meter chamber with bookshelves lining the walls, and a large black carpet with the five rings of the Confederation stitched into its woolly surface. Trinkets of various kinds adorned the room including a millennia-old telescope made of bronze and glass by one of the chamber’s three Gothic windows. A wide desk sat at one end of the room behind which Baron Zalor Revenant reclined in a high-backed chair with his feet on its surface.

  He wore a formal black suit with a white jacket and tie that somehow managed to make his blue eyes sparkle. Looking at him, she almost didn’t notice the two individuals seated in the chairs between them. The one on the left was a powerfully built man with a tail of flowing black hair speckled with the white signs of age. He twisted in the seat to look over his shoulder, taking her in with dark, pensive eyes. She didn’t need to see the seal pinned to his gray suit’s lapel to know that this man was Premier Dorsky, the present leader of the Confederation of Sovereign Systems. She inclined her head to him, not really knowing what else to do. He rubbed two fingers on his chin and a faint smile appeared on his broad mouth.

  When Cygni turned her attention to the last person in the room, she had to suppress the urge to stiffen in place. Wearing a forest-green gown, Baroness Altair cocked a blond eyebrow in her direction, sizing her up with light blue eyes. Though the baroness could not have known about her presence in the suite on the cruise, unless the VoQuana told her, Cygni held her breath until the woman turned back towards Baron Revenant with a puff of air from her lips.

  Cygni wasn’t sure if she should be insulted or relieved at the baroness’ reaction.

  “One, two, three, four—four of you?” Baron Revenant pulled his feet off the desk and sat up. “Haem Ila’Anaeriae, the chauffer’s presence is excepted, but aside from him I distinctly remember telling you to bring only yourself and Miss Aragón.”

  Niu looked down at the floor. “I am sorry, Baron Revenant. Miss Aragón told Haem Mondu to come.”

  The Volgoth’s geode-like eyes bulged. He made a sound that was half-wheeze and half-honk from deep in his throat.

  “I did,” Cygni confirmed. “I told him to come along.”

  “The chauffeur?” Vargas said with indignation evident in his voice.

  Baron Revenant’s expression darkened and he shot the man a glare before turning his eyes back to her. “Do not make a habit of undermining my commands.”

  “N
o, Baron, of course not.” Cygni was used to being yelled at by second-rate editors, but not barons. Something about the sharp, cold tone he used made her heart race and her palms get sweaty.

  “Am I understood?” His voice was like a whip.

  “By the Will, Zalor, give it a rest. The girl is frightened enough of you,” Premier Dorsky said.

  “Yes, I understood, Baron.” She lowered her head, but ground her teeth in response to the Dorsky’s use of the word “girl.” Premier or no, she wanted to smack him for it. The anger was good, it took the edge off of the sudden rush of fear that Baron Revenant’s voice inspired.

  “Good. Look at me.”

  She raised her eyes to him. A mild smile replaced his dark expression.

  “Did you examine the athenaeum?” Baron Revenant asked in pleasant tones.

  She nodded.

  “Then you know why you are here?”

  She glanced around the room, uncertain of whether or not she could say it in front of the present company. The crystal was very specific about discretion.

  “Yes, I know.”

  Baron Revenant smiled. “Premier Dorsky and I were just discussing the Confederate-wide impact of the CCTCN. The citizens will be shocked at first, but they will quickly come to love it, don’t you think?”

  She nodded. It was hard to think of people of any species not liking the ability to communicate and travel within minutes across the void of space. Only the most regressive among them would think otherwise, and she doubted that even the Gaians would dislike it.

  “If they are properly prepared, the citizens will be happy to abandon their current ways. If this is handled right, it will boost the next administration’s popularity considerably.” Premier Dorksy flinched at Baron Revenant’s statement.

  She suppressed a frown. Next administration? “I am working on an idea as you asked.”

  “Keep it to yourself for now. I will want a full proposal in athenaeum format in five days.”

  “Yes, Baron.”

  “At the heart of the issue here is the people’s willingness to trust an alien technology,” Premier Dorsky said. “Though it is true we are a sovereign nation of multi-species origins, the fundamental nature of the new technology is utterly alien to what we know.”