Chaos Quarter: Imperial Ambitions Page 11

  “Beyond this world doesn’t concern me,” the chief interjected. “If you can provide evidence or witnesses who have seen this ‘man’ commit crimes on Atrebar, then I will arrest him now.”

  The chief paused, glancing at Jake again. Jake couldn’t help but wonder if the chief was wondering how he would arrest or detain him, given his cyborg nature. But if he had such a concern he expertly masked it, never letting his authoritative stare slip.

  “Do you have either of those things?” Ugaannyg-ool asked of Grith.

  Grith glared, grinding his teeth in frustration. “There will be consequences—”

  “Do you have either of those things?” Ugaannyg-ool repeated.

  “No,” said Grith venomously.

  “Then I have no cause to hold either ‘Jake,’ or ‘Kalathax,’ or his companion,” said Ugaannyg-ool.

  Grith sighed and glanced down at his wrist console. The motion didn’t escape Jake’s glaze nor did the fact that it wasn’t a small console on his wrist; it was a watch—an old-fashioned wristwatch. Grith was concerned about the time.

  Why? It didn’t make sense. A man in a hurry did not cause a scene and get himself dragged down to a police station so that things could be hashed out. They’d already been in this station for an hour.

  “If there is nothing more…” said Ugaannyg-ool.

  “Nothing here,” Jake declared. “Unless I can sue these two idiots for dragging me into this.”

  “No,” said Ugaannyg-ool firmly. “Their charge has no merit, but this discussion was still official business of the District of Kodee Suur. You cannot sue over it.”

  “A shame,” Jake said, getting to his feet. Second did the same.

  “You are making a mistake,” snarled Grith, abruptly standing, nearly knocking his chair backward.

  “Perhaps. But it would be a mistake for anyone, especially a foreigner, to try to take the law into their own hands in my city,” Ugaannyg-ool warned.

  Grith’s eyes narrowed into an angry squint, but he said nothing more. He and his fellow mercenary stormed out of the police station.

  “Thank you,” Jake said.

  “Laws are laws,” said Ugaannyg-ool. “And the fact that Grith has no evidence as to your being a criminal does not mean that you are not a criminal.”

  “I’m not. We’re just stopping in for supplies,” Jake insisted.

  “Well, that may be true, but on the off chance that the arrogant merc was right, and you are this Kalathax, I would suggest you not take too long in getting the things you need,” explained Ugaannyg-ool.

  Jake frowned but said nothing.

  “I think he is threatening us,” said Second innocently.

  Ugaannyg-ool raised an eyebrow, clearly confused by Second’s words and tone.

  “She’s…not great at reading between the lines,” Jake explained.

  “What lines? He has been speaking; no printed lines of text have been involved,” Second pointed out.

  “Uh, okay,” said Ugaannyg-ool. He nodded toward the door. “You may leave.”

  “Thank you,” said Jake. “Come on, Second.”

  They got up and sped out of the station out into the dirt streets of Kodee Suur. Jake was glad to be out of there and was not one to ignore the chief’s advice. The sooner they were off this planet and away from their accusers the better.

  Unfortunately the station was at the edge of the town, and there wasn’t a carriage to be found. He flagged a passerby, and his translator asked in its mechanical voice where he could find a taxi. The man pointed to a spot a few blocks down where a small plaza opened up between two yurt-shaped buildings.

  They made their way over. The plaza was busy, though not as crowded as the market had been. A single taxi lay across it, the driver sitting lazily at the reins. Jake raised his hand to hail the man and then paused. A low rumbling sound filled the plaza, coming from his left. The locals noticed too, looking about curiously. Jake’s data-stores cycled through their files looking for a match and then came up with one: an internal combustion engine.

  A squeal filled the air and a van emerged from behind a nearby building, accelerating quickly. He didn’t have to guess who was driving the one car in a city full of horses; he could see Grith and his pal through the windshield.

  Jake reacted instinctively, shoving Second out of the way. She flew through the air and bounced to the ground ten feet away, well clear of the van. Jake did not have time to get clear. The grill of the vehicle smashed into his chest, hurling him backward. He slammed hard into a nearby building, his bulk crushing an inch’s worth of brick behind it. His vision swam and his cybernetics adjusted, quickly restoring it to normal. He looked up expecting the van to come at him again.

  Instead it was peeling away, rocketing out of town as fast as it could go. Jake soon saw the reason why. Cops sprinted from the nearby station, weapons drawn. Several were on horseback already, riding after their quarry. Jake got to his feet glancing about for Second. He couldn’t find her, couldn’t see where she had gone. He knew they didn’t have her, Grith and his compatriot. There hadn’t been enough time between striking him and racing away to pull off a kidnapping, which meant she had run. Which way, he didn’t know.

  The familiar bulk of Ugaannyg-ool appeared beside him. The man held a large revolver.

  “What happened?” he demanded.

  “They didn’t take your advice,” Jake said, breathing deeply.

  Ugaannyg-ool frowned and sighed, “I told you it would be best to leave quickly.”

  “We tried; they didn’t exactly give us a chance,” answered Jake.

  “Where is your friend?” the chief pressed.

  “I have no idea,” Jake said. “Guess I’m going to have to go look.”

  Ugaannyg-ool frowned again, but made no move to stop him. Jake ran a quick diagnostic of his systems and, finding nothing seriously amiss, took off to track down Second.

  ***

  Septus Pyrrhus Anjou-Mountebatten, Earl of Potentante-Giscal, had a magnificent library. This was what his consort-born son Lucius thought as he leaned back in his chair and stared skyward. The library was four stories tall, an octagon of dark wood and old leather. Shelves had been built into the walls, each filled to the brim with one important volume or another. A gently spiraling ramp with ornately carved railings led up the four stories, overlooking an open atrium in the center. Lucius sat at the bottom of that atrium, in a plush leather chair, listening to his serf tutor drone on about the importance of crop rotation.

  He didn’t know why Learned Speaker bothered. Lucius had no interest in plants. His father had bought him a fighter simulator, so he could learn to fly and fight in defense of the empire. But the earl insisted that Learned Speaker continue on his lessons, as if listening to this crusty, old serf’s rambling would suddenly make him embrace a life of maize planting.

  “…soil depletion will cause serious decreases in yearly crop harvest, so to ensure—”

  “Enough!” barked Lucius.

  The tutor shrank back into himself. He retreated from the coffee table that sat between him and his charge.

  “Does sire desire a break?” Learned Speaker asked timidly.

  “Go. Send Nanny in,” he said brusquely.

  “As you desire sire,” said the tutor and scuttled out of the library. The door closed softly behind him. Young Lucius sighed and worked at the clasp on his belt. Moments later the door opened again, and a young woman entered. It was Nanny, the latest of the bunch. He’d had this one for just over a year. She was a small woman, pretty if not beautiful, maybe twenty-three years of age. She was the fifth nanny he’d had, tasked with informing his superiors when he did something dangerous, but in no other way interfering with his life. No serf would dare do that, even a nanny charged with his care.

  “You sent for me, my lord?” she said.

  “I am in need of release,” he declared and motioned toward the floor. Nanny nodded meekly. She wore only a simple blue kimono that clasped
in the front. Deftly she undid the clasps and slipped the garment from her shoulders. Her skin was a light tan, normal for her breed. Her hips swelled invitingly, a hair too wide for her body, but only noticeable if you were intent on looking for such imperfections. Her breasts sat high and had a delightful perkiness to them. They were not the largest he had ever seen, but were still soft and pleasant to the touch. Little fat marred her lovely shape. Nannies generally were bred for their nurturing qualities, not their looks. But this one had managed to combine both. He would have to thank his fosterer for giving her to him.

  Nanny got to her hands and knees, spreading her thighs and arching her back to present herself to him. She learned quickly, this one. In the month since he’d first taken her, she’d quickly learned how he preferred to mate his serfs.

  Lucius knelt behind her, aligning himself. With a contended sigh, he fumbled with the zipper of his pants—

  —And jolted awake in his bed. Cold sweat streamed down his face. He glanced around, no longer in his father’s library, no longer in his past. He was in his bed, in his cabin, on Longshot. Nanny was not here; that had been years ago, back in the empire.

  He sat up, rubbing at his eyes. He took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves, but it didn’t help much. Normally when he dreamed something out of his past he’d just nestle up against Chakrika and take solace in her presence, in the sensation of being next to somebody who actually wanted him there. But she was light-years away, and the only thing he felt up against him was the cold metal of the wall.

  Sour mood or not, it was probably time he’d put an end to his nap. Rex had no doubt made some sort of deal with the locals for the missiles they needed. And with outsiders crawling around the ship, things could be tense. Better he be awake.

  He dressed. As he was pulling on a shirt, a knock sounded from the door. He glanced over, remembering that Jake and Second had gone into town. Was Rex back already? How long had he been asleep?

  “Open,” he ordered, moving toward the door.

  The door slid back, revealing a naked woman of exceptional beauty. He caught his breath, wondering for a second if he had truly woken up or whether this was some sort of convoluted dream within a dream. He had no recollection of ever having possessed a serf who looked like the woman before him. Though he could honestly say he would have been glad for the opportunity. This woman was a magnificent figure of feminine beauty, with graceful curves and long red tresses cascading from her head. A warm smile graced her lips.

  “Uh…hello?” he sputtered.

  “Hi,” said a friendly voice. “I’m Vermella. Rex said I could find you here.”

  “Yes, well, here I am,” he stammered, feeling oddly at ease the whole while. “Why exactly did Rex send you up?”

  “Well, why do you think silly?” she said, stepping up until she was pressed against him. His mind told him to retreat, told him a hundred times. He managed a half step back. She noticed this and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

  “I do not know what Rex is thinking, but I am a married—”

  She sighed, “I know, I know. When he told me, I said this might happen, but he insisted. Said that what the little lady didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.”

  “Rex said that?” he asked. He knew something was off about the words, but he had trouble putting his finger on what. His mind felt very cloudy all of a sudden.

  “Look, the last thing I want to do is get you in trouble with your wife,” she said, stepping close again. He could feel her nipples press against him through his shirt.

  “Yeah, it’s…uh…I should not—”

  “Tell you what,” she said, the bottom of her neck twitching slightly. “You come down with me. Think it over as you go. If you don’t want me, I’ll go back and have some fun with Rex and let you be.”

  Lucius paused, fighting for breath. He tried to think, but couldn’t. Instead he found his hands at her waist lightly tracing their way up her sides. Her fingertips danced across his chest.

  “Much as I’d love to feel all this against me, I’m not here to be a home wrecker. I promise you that.”

  “Well…if I can trust your word…”

  “You can,” she said, leaning up to kiss him softly. It was a light kiss, an introductory kiss, a promise of something greater. And despite his mind screaming at him to stop, he found himself standing in awe after it was over. Without another word she took his hand in her delicate fingers and led him from his cabin.

  ***

  Jake ran, scrambling through the city blocks, looking in every direction. He had his auditory senses tuned up, trying to pick up any trace of Second’s voice.

  But he heard nothing, nothing of her at least. He could hear the damned van rushing through town, a block over from him. It was hard to miss the rumble of its engine and the surprised whinnies of horses not used to vehicles. He figured they were searching for her as well.

  He did not know where Second went or how she moved so quickly. Jake himself could top out at thirty miles per hour in a dead sprint, and he was doing close to that now. Where the heck had she gone to?

  He came to an intersection, not far from the marketplace. A quick survey of the area revealed no Second, just a whole bunch of locals directing surprised looks at the cyborg sprinting through their city. He paused, noticing something. The sound of the van was fading, the rumble dissipating into the background hum of the city.

  Why? Had they spotted her? Were they turning off the pursuit? Had they found her already and were now making a break for it? It was impossible to know without seeing. So he broke left and sprinted after the sound of the van. People and horses flashed by as he went, until finally he saw the vehicle. It was at the edge of the town, ripping onto the road that led to the spaceport.

  He followed, magnifying his vision to survey the landscape. Sweeping back and forth across the pastures just outside of town, he saw dozens of cattle, goats, sheep, and paddocks full of horses…and then, dashing for a patch of evergreen forest, the tall, thin figure of his friend. On the road parallel to her the van shot forward, easily keeping pace. Second disappeared into the woods, but it was only a temporary moment of safety. She was clearly running for the ship, and between Kodee Suur and the spaceport was a checkerboard of forest and field. Before long she’d be in the open again, and Grith would be able to get ahead of her and cut her off.

  So he sprinted after them, pushing to his maximum. But on open road, out of the city, the van had the speed advantage. He saw it grow smaller as it went, its engine pitching higher and higher as it accelerated. He could hear his own joints creak and squeal as he pressed onward, six hundred pounds slamming the hard dirt of the road with each stride. Trees and passersby blinked past him as he ran, but it still wasn’t fast enough. The vehicle kept growing smaller.

  Then the van jerked sideways, steering suddenly to the left, off the road. A group of horses scattered at its approach. Jake pounded after it, coming upon the spot. A large pasture stretched away toward a ridge that formed the edge of the valley. A small figure darted across it, fifty yards distant: Second. As Jake had feared, the van pulled ahead of her, its wheels throwing up dirt and grass as it tore through the meadow. Brakes squealed as it came to a stop in front of her. Second stopped and moved to change direction. But before she could, the two mercenaries had jumped from the car and pulled their pistols. Second, to her credit, pulled her own gun. For a long moment, both sides held, weapons locked on each other. Magnifying it again, Jake could see Second’s arms. They shook with uncertainty. Her opponents showed no such fear. Jake was no soldier, but it didn’t take a warrior to know how this would end. The two advanced slowly, side by side, weapons steady. They spoke, but even he couldn’t make out their—

  Side by side!

  A thought occurred to him. He glanced right, to one of the horses the van had scattered. It was a large, red mare, warily watching him while eating grass—just right for his purposes.

  Here goes nothing, he thought and sprinted for the hor
se.

  ***

  She’d never felt like this, never felt this…what was the term? She didn’t know. Her muscles hurt, but she was too afraid to stop and let them rest. Her lungs screamed at her, but she kept running. Her heart raced, no, pounded against her ribs. She wanted to stop, wanted to fall down onto the ground and breathe—no, she didn’t want that. They were out there, in a van, looking for her. For her!

  Disjointed thoughts shot through her mind. She couldn’t see her pursuers; maybe they had stopped. Maybe Jake had killed them. She had a gun—yes, a gun—in her belt! She could shoot them. But they had guns…and a van. And she had to get to the ship. Rex had guns, big guns. The ship had guns. She would be safe on the ship. Was she going in the right direction? Was the ship still there? Was Jake dead? She didn’t know, and she couldn’t focus enough to think. She had to move, had to run.

  She stumbled, pitching forward into the duff of the forest floor. She vomited violently, gasping for breath—her lungs, tired and laboring. Ahead of her she saw an opening, a field. She pressed on, out of the forest.

  The running was easier, and she burst ahead in a full sprint. Her body continued to rebel, but she willed herself on, feeling a heightened awareness, one she had rarely felt before. What was this? Adrenaline, that’s what Rex had said. It took over when things were bad. That had to be it! Right? She could not say, could not think, could not understand, could not do anything but run. Run for the ship. Run for Rex and safety.

  The rumbling of an engine came from her right. She spotted her enemy. Their van leaped off the road and raced across the meadow. She pushed even harder, her mind too panicked to understand the futility of it. The van pressed on, tearing up the meadow as it went. With a screeching of brakes, it pulled to a stop in front of her.

  Two figures jumped out, familiar figures, the two men she’d just seen in the police station. She couldn’t run forward, not anymore. Something instinctive kicked up inside her, sending her hand to her hip. She pulled out her pistol pointing it at the men as they approached, side by side. They had guns of their own, pistols, just like the one she held now. She knew she was supposed to shoot, knew she just had to squeeze back and the gun would fire and one of the men would die.