Siege Weapons Page 6

  “Thanks, Commander… You too.”

  I switched off the comms link and took my ship into a landing trajectory toward the main continent on this side of the planet.

  Miri tried to change the subject. “Captain, quarters have been arranged at the Capital Hotel. And docking bay fifty-six secured at the spaceport.”

  I breathed out slowly. It wasn’t her fault. But my bad feeling about all this only grew deeper. “Thanks, Miri. Tell me, what kind of place will we be stuck on?”

  She switched into factual mode. “Jansen has a relatively cold climate. The day is twenty-eight point six two standard hours long. Population in excess of one hundred million homosapiens. With a small minority of one point two million heterosapiens who mainly work in off-world mines. You’re staying in the capital city, named Jansen City…”

  “Imaginative.”

  “Which is also the largest metro area on the planet. Population three point one million. The major exports are raw materials and minerals. The main economic activities are mining and subsistence agriculture.”

  “Fun activities?”

  “Sorry, there are no known sex palaces, advertised sex parties, sex dungeons, or sellers of Kri anywhere in the Jansen system.”

  “Dammit.” It was going to be one long siege.

  “The inhabitants strictly adhere to local religious customs and practices. The high priest and establishment preach moral chastity. Sex outside of recognized relationships is forbidden. Particularly your kind of sex, Ales.”

  “Yes, thank you, Miri.”

  But there’s more. “Furthermore, alcoholic beverages and mind-altering substances are banned. The Capital Hotel is the only licensed seller of alcohol in the system. Access to it is restricted for locals. It is designed for foreigners who visit Jansen and high-level government and religious…”

  “Okay, I understand. No fun to be had whatsoever.”

  We came closer to entering the atmosphere, passing the ships in high orbit that were effectively encircling Jansen. Two of Commander Zelo’s fighters stayed on my back. I could sense every single weapon of the fleet targeting my ship. Not that it needed an energy torpedo. Half the time, I was worried it would burn up in the atmosphere. We’d come closer. The ship started to judder as we crossed the horizon line into Jansen, toward a world that glowed white under a cloudless sky.

  “Hey, Miri, did we ever do a scan of Javer’s supposed medical supplies?”

  “Scanning now.”

  Medical supplies usually meant a euphemism for drugs or embryos of illegal creatures, anything that could conceivably be stored in a liquid vial or syringe.

  “Scanning complete.”

  “And?”

  “We appear to be transporting a small amount of weaponized galinium.”

  Chapter Six

  I DIDN’T SEE a soul walk through the spaceport. Vidscreens and holoboards displayed sparse products to a silent reception as the clip of my boots echoed through the empty arrivals hall. I could have been wandering through a recently abandoned world. Moveable walkways stood motionless. The cavernous spaceport welcomed none but me. I’d wrapped up against the cold, which I could feel even inside, with my old snow jacket: faithful black-tanned hide with a white fur lining. Not simply fur from an old street dog, but from the pelt of the Tevian sky lion, now extinct along with the rest of my world.

  Next to my ship, it was the most valuable object I own. In fact, my ship was a piece of flank, so the jacket was the most valuable, all the more so since it had once been my father’s.

  Captain Ales Senior was the last hero our people had ever seen. The only one I’d truly known. A smuggler himself. A gambler and womanizer; he’d been born with a tenacity for breaking the law that I’d come to inherit.

  I still remembered the day the first invasion ships landed and the Crejan shock-troops stormed through our homes and farms. My father had been a star of the resistance, but we’d been woefully unprepared. The era of Teva staying neutral and independent had led us into a false sense of security and put our world right in the way of a brutal galactic power.

  Teva sat at the crossroads of two major slipstreams that bisected that segment of the galaxy. To move from one slipstream to the other required transiting through the Tevian system, and our world grew rich and well-renowned from the sometimes-trade, sometimes-piracy nature of a place travelers couldn’t avoid.

  When the invasion started, it had been small. Smaller than the Union fleet in orbit, designed to teach us a lesson. We fought back. Millions had been inspired by my father who won incredible victories early on. But we’d paid for it in the end; the invasion turned into a brutal occupation that spurred a bloodthirsty resistance that eventually led to our destruction. I wondered why I thought about all that now.

  I came to a crossway; two entryways would take me to the Capital Hotel, and I chose the one that went outside, despite the freezing temperatures. I wanted to see what was out here.

  Their dead red-dwarf sun hung small and low in the clear pink sky, having absolutely zero effect on the temperature. The cold froze my face and my scalp contracted from the icy air. Could that sun ever make this place warm?

  Out in the open, the surroundings were even more deserted than inside. An iced wind blew flecks of trash down the empty street, supposedly a main thoroughfare. Yet every single shop and place of business had been locked and boarded up. I stood in the middle of a cluster of medium-height buildings, leaning back to count up the side of one. It seemed no more than ten or fifteen stories high.

  Most were built of solid gray stone. Small slit windows gave the street a dull gray feel. Like the people inside wanted to hide from the world. The Capital Hotel was the tallest by far, and the tallest building on the planet, not to mention completely different in terms of architecture and style from what I’d read on the ship. The pale-blue glass-fronted tower started out thick at the bottom, attached to the curved roof of the spaceport. It grew thinner as it rose, all the way to its tip, a good six hundred meters or so in the air.

  I scanned the morning sky, the wispy white of condensation trails. Ships crisscrossed the atmosphere. The invasion force. If a bombardment from space did happen, then my guess would be that the tallest building on the planet would be the first to know it.

  Inside the hotel, the story was no different: empty. In the lobby, I waited alone for the bot to arrange a room, while a holoscreen projected images of the high priest praying with freezing cold soldiers guarding things. The sound wasn’t on, but the talking heads seemed to be discussing the best way of getting young children to stay calm in a space-raid shelter and how to properly store provisions.

  Some part of my memory unfolded before my eyes. Scenes I’d never got the chance to experience. Familiar yet strange. We never had holoscreens on Teva, but if we had, I imagined this was what they’d have been showing.

  I shuddered and, for a moment, wasn’t sure I could ever stop. What was this feeling? Sick. Sick with worry, with regret. Sick at the idea of being trapped in a place I really knew I shouldn’t be.

  An all-too-familiar feeling. Not so much now, but in the past, well, the recent past. It reminded me of the times when, having taken too much Kri in a darkened room in a pleasure palace, I’d been surrounded by men who pushed and shoved each other to use me. Unable to move my hands or legs, but perfectly aware of everything that went on; I’d wished against wishing that I’d never entered whatever hovel of depravity I lay in. Yet I always made the same mistake again and again and again.

  That was the problem with Kri. The right amount gave the perfect high. But a little too much, or if the batch was a bit off, could leave a poor soul trapped inside their head with no escape for hours.

  “Here you are, sir.” The bot finished whatever it’d been doing and placed a small, thin metal stick in front of me.

  “What the infinity is this?”

  “Your key, sir.”

  “My what? You can’t take a finger scan? Or retina or something?”


  “Simply insert the key into the lock and twist to the right. Our hotel is rather quiet today so we have given you a special upgrade at no cost…”

  “Yeah. Okay, I get it, thanks.” There was no use discussing anything with a bot. Most AIs weren’t programmed to argue. I picked up the metal “key” and investigated it more closely. The stick had ridges on it, which I assumed were its security mechanism, but damn, it seemed incredibly easy to copy. I started to regret leaving my weapon locked inside the ship. Most of the time, openly carrying a sidearm was an invitation for trouble. You might as well tell everyone “Hey, I have something valuable to hide. Come and rob me,” and I preferred to travel more on the incognito side.

  But now, being alone in a strange hotel, waiting for a mystery man to collect a deadly weapon, I wished I’d kept it strapped to my leg. In less than twenty-four hours, a war was due to be fought over the damn contents of my ship. Infinity’s sake, it made me feel uneasy, to say the least.

  INSIDE THE ROOM, I dropped the key and my clothes and went straight for the shower. My body responded with an ooze of satisfaction that trickled down my spine. Jets of scalding hot water surrounded me 360 degrees. They shot into every corner of me, while next to the steamy booth, my clothes were dry washed and pressed by the insta-cleaner. So different from my usual bucket of cold water filled from the runoff of my ship’s climate-control system.

  The bot hadn’t lied about the upgrade. The room sat practically at the tower’s tip, giving a 180-degree panoramic view. The rest of Jansen City sprawled out beneath my window in every direction. Perfectly angled roads checkered the view, fading into the distant mountains beyond the city of squat angular buildings. The city was built inside a crater, and from my vantage point, I got a sense of the bowl-shaped geography I was stuck inside. I didn’t care to glance into the sky.

  Drying myself off, I thought of Ukko. Was he here? Flying above me, preparing to invade? He told me he’d be on Targuline in a few days. Was that a ruse? Or was this operation only scheduled to take a few days?

  I stayed naked and hopped onto the bed, holding my wrist-tech in both hands. The bed might be the softest thing I’d ever lain on, at least in recent memory, and with room for at least four men. I still felt uneasy about being with Franx and Boren. Not that our friendship was worth much anymore. Our last night like an end to the story between us, an epilogue to our friendship. We both got to see how the other now lived and make our quiet little judgments. Freedom or love, what is more important? I could question how much Franx really had loved as much as he could dispute whether I truly had freedom.

  The bed faced the window, which unfortunately meant that as I lay horizontal, I could peer only up to the cloud trails from the Union fleet prowling above. I tapped the wrist-tech and did a search, as fruitless as it might prove to be.

  There are no users currently available in this hotel.

  Well, that was obvious. I modified a few settings. I didn’t want to pick up locals. Sneaking them into a place where they were banned didn’t seem like such a good idea. I set it to catch any recent arrivals to the system. Those who’d been available in the last two days. I added in my particular requirements, which, usually, resulted in an average of zero. I didn’t know why, but guys in the Outer Verge weren’t willing to give me what I needed.

  There are two users matching your requirements in this system.

  That was a surprise. A shot of excitement sent my dick slapping in agreement against my leg. One must’ve been Ukko for sure; the profile readout showed the same scant details that led me to him the first time. The other showed even less information.

  I searched for a bit more detail. Ukko was last available three hours ago at a distance that would make sense if he was in orbit around Jansen. At least I’d found a direct source in the invasion fleet that might prove useful. But the one who wasn’t Ukko was last available one hour ago. From this hotel.

  I dropped my wrist-tech onto the floor and stretched out, enjoying the tingling excitement of all the things that could be. Knowing Ukko was flying above me thrust an endpoint under the daunting sense of vulnerability that surrounded me. If all else failed, I could at least let him know I was stuck down here. And if he would be so kind to ask his friends not to bomb me. Although it was highly likely to be wishful thinking. I didn’t think there could be any force in the Outer Verge seriously capable of doing significant damage from a space attack; but strange things were happening. The Union might claim to be a private security force, but they certainly seemed to be behaving like a nascent empire. Or a jumped-up gang with a sheen of authority and enough cash stolen to buy themselves a little fleet.

  I wondered if this whole Jansen operation wasn’t exactly the same as the four Union men that had tried to extort me for ten thousand, but now on a planet-sized scale. Or perhaps they’d wanted to plant something on me, or maybe they knew about the galinium before I had. They hadn’t gotten inside my ship. I knew that much. Miri had given me a security report the second I’d left Targuline. The pod had been locked down until Boren, like he said, sent a security detail of half a dozen Trades Council officers who’d dutifully stood guard till I arrived.

  I wondered what the Union would make of my ship’s contents. Until now, I’d assumed the high priest had tons of the galinium lying around and my delivery simply added to a preexisting stockpile. Perhaps the opposite was true. Maybe this galinium Javer sent me with was exactly what this fleet had been mobilized to confiscate. Had I been sent here as the pretext for starting a war?

  Regardless, my eyes began to close of their own accord. All of this would have to wait a few more hours.

  “Windows to black.”

  In the darkness, I said my prayer. “I believe in the continuity of existence, in the eternity of our people. That the glory of our past will never be forgotten, and the greatness of our future will always be remembered. Oh victorious one, conqueror of the universe, restore us, your faithful army. Oh merciful one, mother of all, deliver us from exile. May your people grow strong and numerous, as in the days before. May we sweep across the stars, and may tomorrow herald the coming of your dominion over all worlds.”

  Chapter Seven

  THE SKY HAD grown dark and purple. The grass blue, tall, and sharp. I stood shoeless, afraid, surrounded by familiar faces, but not friendly ones. Scared ones, adults afraid to die. There’s nothing worse for a child to see. Someone held my hand, held it tight. But I couldn’t see who. In fact, I couldn’t see anyone else at all.

  I turned my head as far as it would go and strained my eyes in their sockets to see what lay behind me. Our group kept moving forward, forward through the sharp blue grass. But I could only look back.

  I spied a spark of yellow in the purple sky. Brilliant, bright, flaming yellow and red. Behind me the sky was on fire. It moved. The fire moved toward us. Small at first, but growing bigger. So much bigger that it swallowed the horizon, so we ran forward.

  I knew what had caused the sky to rip in two. My father. He’d succeeded. By the worried faces around me, what he’d done meant no turning back. War would come, and our fate had been sealed. Maybe it would have either way.

  The hand holding mine pulled harder and harder, trying to yank my shoulder out of its socket. Did this person care more about saving my arm than saving me? Another burst of yellow and red came from the sky, and it shook the very ground we walked on. My attention distracted, those fingers of safety slipped from mine.

  I fell onto the sharp, wet grass. Dirt connected with my face. Bare black legs trudged through the tall sharp blades of grass around me. The ground itself rumbled. I heard someone scream. Scream my name.

  “Ales! Where did you go? Ales…”

  WHEN I WOKE a few hours later, I already had a message from the mysterious man.

  Hello. Saw we’re close by. You’re searching for what I have to offer. Perhaps we could help each other out? I’ll be waiting at the hotel bar. Turo.

  He’d sent it an hour ag
o.

  In a rush, I threw on my clothes while listening to my heart beat in nervous excitement. After finding where I’d dropped that damn metal key, I hurried out of the room on my way to the hotel bar, hoping this Turo hadn’t gotten bored and left already. The elevator took me halfway down the tower and opened into one of the nicest cocktail lounges I’d ever seen. The place entirely empty, of course.

  The grand circular room was an entire floor of the hotel. A raised seating area ringed around the room’s edge, where the floor-to-ceiling windows poured in a view of the city in darkness. Soft music came from the walls. Everything in the opulent lounge had been carved from wood and gold. I stepped onto a plush red carpet, displaying Jansen’s insignia over and over again in gold thread. Perhaps the eerie quiet was due to the siege, but I couldn’t imagine a circumstance when the place would ever be full.

  Close to the oval bar in the room’s center sat a small stage laid out with unused instruments—an old-fashioned pianola and native ones I’d never seen before.

  A figure I didn’t recognize, but I’d a pretty good guess about, sat with his back to me at the bar itself, a shiny and extravagantly gilded island in the opulent sea. Mirrors inside the wooden island reflected the rows and rows of weirdly shaped bottles filled with luminous-colored liquids. Like any good bar, it would be stocked with the best two hundred or so drinks from across the galaxy, a far cry from the orange industrial-cleaning fluid I’d been stuck with on Baldomar station.

  My heart fluttered, in a way it hadn’t since Ukko. Before him, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had any real feelings when meeting someone. Although I’d flown halfway across the Verge for him, and he’d stood me up. The memory nipped my confidence.

  I got closer and gulped down breaths, my mind racing with thoughts of what we might do together. I didn’t even care what he looked like. If he delivered what his profile promised, my vision would be restrained anyway, much like the rest of me.