The Other Side
by Shayne
Part IV: Cataclysm
1
Somewhere in the clouded haze of his brain, he knew the surface beneath him was flat and hard; knew his arms and legs were held immobile by some unseen means... heard random voices come and go, the sounds distant and distorted.
Sometimes things got clearer for a while and he'd be able to tell that the ceiling above him was a dull grey and the lights of this place were unbearably bright. There was someone else in here, too; he could hear the sounds of restless sleep, an occasional mutter or groan.
Mostly though, he existed solely within the drifting fog of his thoughts. He needed to get up and leave; there was something he had to take care of... but every time the idea solidified, it dissolved again just as quickly, slipping from his mind's sluggish grasp, and finally he just gave up and floated aimlessly.
His eyes slid open and he looked around, surprised to find his vision clear. It was unbelievably difficult to move, but he finally managed to tilt his head to one side.
Across the room was another table with a figure slumped on it, restrained and hooked up to a couple of machines, same as him. Red hair spilled across the person's face, hiding their features, but he recognized his boss, anyway.
"K—Katze?"
His throat was dry, his tongue stiff and it hurt to talk, but he tried again, calling the dealer's name once more. Katze didn't move, but he heard the swish of a port opening and then someone bent over him.
"You're building up a resistance. We'll have to make the dosage a little stronger."
Something cold and hard pressed against the underside of his jaw; the injector hissed as it depressed. He felt a sharp sting... and nothing else.
Raoul checked the incoming-call history on his borrowed hand-unit. Still nothing from Riki or Katze.
It had been three days since Guy's retrieval and they would have to move soon. If Katze didn't have something planned... he'd just do it himself.
Off-world would be his first choice, but right now attempting it wouldn't be easy and Guy was still weak. He'd run a fever the first night then slept steadily since, waking only to take the pain meds and antibiotics Raoul periodically fed him.
There was no inflammation of his wounds, though, and regrowth had already rebuilt bone and knitted muscle back together. Only the scar tissue had yet to form completely.
Raoul didn't think they'd have time for that. Jupiter was undoubtedly furious and Iason would be coming for them soon. Good thing this place was shielded or they'd have been found already.
"Sensei."
His head jerked up at Guy's voice and he turned to see the mongrel propped unsteadily against the doorway, swaying.
"Are you trying to finish yourself off, you ridiculous creature?"
Raoul was at the door in three strides, scooping a weakly protesting Guy up and depositing him on the lounge the Blondie had just been occupying.
"Always havin' to haul me around, huh, Sensei?" Guy's eyes were closed, a corner of his mouth tilted up.
"Begin as you mean to go on, mongrel. I've told you that before."
"You also said I shouldn't commit myself to a losing battle." Long, black lashes lifted. "Pretty sure I qualify, Raoul."
Watching Guy's face, the Blondie considered his reply for a moment.
"I did not teach you this defeatist attitude." He allowed a hint of scorn to creep into his tone. "It is not something I would have expected from you."
There was no response in Guy's eyes. Raoul tried to see past the emptiness to the vibrant boy he remembered, but there was only a dark void. Putting a hand on either side of Guy's head, he leaned over the mongrel.
"What is this about? Look at me," he said sharply when Guy would have turned away.
Mist grey eyes focused on his.
"Did you stay for all of it, Sensei? Did you see me kill him... tear his throat open like I was some animal?"
Ah. So that was the problem.
"I saw you kill a man who would have done the same to you if he could have," he said calmly. "He did, in fact, almost succeed."
His gaze drifted over the fresh gauze he'd wrapped around Guy's still-forming scars then back up to the mongrel's face.
"I cannot be sorry for his death, since it means you live. What else could you have done?"
"I could've let him take me the first go-round," Guy shot back. "Then you wouldn't be here in Midas with your hair chopped off and Jupiter lookin' to string you up."
"Perhaps not," Raoul replied placidly. "Most likely I'd be in the Tower, awaiting mental alteration after murdering several humans."
He waited and, as he'd hoped, Guy's mouth began to quiver. Then laughter burst from the mongrel and kept coming until it turned to choking sobs. When the tears started, Raoul sat down on the lounge's edge, letting Guy curl around him. Strong arms wrapped around his waist, their grip desperate, and the mongrel buried his face in Raoul's shoulder.
A psychologist with many years of research behind him, Raoul had studied millions of case-histories spanning thousands of years. Amongst them were the profiles and mental problems of professional mercenaries and the soldiers of many armies.
Guy was experiencing the first stages of long-term combat stress. The Blondie thought there was survivor's guilt in there somewhere, too, though he wasn't sure of the origin. Riki perhaps?
The mongrel needed to get the unavoidable reactions out of his system so he could look at the situation with a clear head. And if he could cry... that meant he wasn't completely closed off inside.
They sat like that for a long time, Guy's tears soaking soundlessly into Raoul's over-tunic; Raoul stroking the dark head and quivering shoulders. Finally, they ceased to move, and Guy's breathing evened.
Raoul eased him back onto the sofa and started to rise, but long fingers curled around his wrist.
The mongrel's eyes were nearly swollen shut from tears and exhaustion, his pupils mere pin-dots within shimmering silver.
"Don't go," he whispered, his voice raw with spent pain, and Raoul nodded, smoothing damp mahogany hair away from the drawn face.
Once again, he lifted the mongrel in his arms and carried him to the bedroom he'd been occupying. He situated Guy carefully on his right side, then stretched out beside him. Immediately, Guy pushed closer.
"Always—so warm."
"My heart rate is naturally faster than a normal human's and my body is designed to work more efficiently. Both traits generate a higher temperature."
"Mmph. Guess you just had to tell me that, huh?"
"Of course."
Raoul looked down at the dark head resting on his arm and smiled. Guy's fingers wandered up to play with his now shoulder-length hair.
"I miss it. Really loved your long hair. First time I saw you, I thought it was the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen."
Raoul's breath caught, his body reacting involuntarily to the softly spoken words. He ruthlessly quashed the arousal.
"Ya know, Sensei," the mongrel said in a sleepy voice, "one of these days we should try actually doing it. Get it out of the way. Maybe then I wouldn't be walking around with a permanent hard-on."
Raoul's mouth twitched. Arena or no, Guy had lost none of his impudence.
"You are not healthy enough to be thinking such things, Guy-chan. You'd do better to rest. We won't be able to stay here much longer."
"Well, at least we could be having fun until we leave," the mongrel murmured wickedly.
"Go to sleep, you evil torment."
"Yes Sensei. Anything you say, Sensei."
"Oh, shut up."
Guy made a sound that might have been a laugh and relaxed against Raoul. The Blondie waited until the mongrel's breathing slowed before closing his own eyes and letting himself drift.
"—ain't gonna do it. You wanna be stuck in here with a PO'd Blondie? No thanks."
"Well, somebody's gotta do somethin'. Maybe you could just—I dunno—tap his shoulder real light."
"Me? Why do I hafta do everything?"
Raoul lay very still and listened to the low-voiced conversation going on, it seemed, right over his head. The voices belonged to Sid and Luke, so he wasn't worried. He was, however, curious to see what the out-come of their dilemma would be.
Guy shifted a little, trying to find a more comfortable position for his shoulder and Raoul moved with him, easing him onto his stomach. He slid seamlessly back into sleep and the whispers resumed.
"This is just fucking weird. First Riki, now Guy. What the hell is it with these Blondies, anyway? Ain't their pets good enough? Why they gotta take all the decent mongrels, too?"
That was Sid.
"Look, dude, I don't have time to get into this right now. I'm just not sure what I should do, here."
And that had to be Luke.
"You should stop hissing like a pair of adders and speak up," Raoul interjected, opening his eyes in time to watch the two men jump, "or you will find out in short order what a pissed-off Blondie is like. None of us will enjoy the experience, I assure you."
"Um... um... s-sorry, Sir. I just—I didn't want to wake you and Guy up. He ain't in good shape," Luke stammered, hot blood darkening his cheeks.
Raoul kept his expression stern, pushing up on one arm to regard the mongrels across from him.
"He is not. But if there is a problem, I wish to know immediately. What is wrong?"
Luke and Sid glanced at each other.
"Word is," Sid said slowly, "androids are doin' whole-building searches, lookin' for someone. We figured it was probably you guys. We gotta move you. Like, right now."
"You haven't heard from Riki or Katze?" the Blondie asked Luke.
"Nah. Neither of them has their com on. I'll try 'em again later."
"Mm. Raoul?"
Their voices had awakened Guy, who stretched sleepily against Raoul, then turned, burrowing into the Blondie.
"Whuzza matter? It morning already? Still tired."
Raoul slid one hand into the dark hair and tilted Guy's head gently up.
"I know you are, but you must stay awake. We have to go."
"'Kay. Can I sleep when we get there, Sensei?"
"Of course you may. For now, though, I need you to sit up."
Ignoring the two other mongrels staring at them, Raoul helped Guy into a sitting position. He glanced over at Luke.
"Did you bring the clothing I gave Katze for him?"
Both Luke and Sid were extremely red by now and Raoul clamped down on his impatience.
"Yeah," Sid muttered. "Got your stuff too, Mr.—ah, Sir."
"You might as well call me Raoul," the Blondie said. "I doubt you could pronounce the rest."
"Jervaux—right?"
They all turned to see Norris standing in the doorway. To Raoul's surprise, the mongrel's delivery was flawless. Norris shrugged, obviously uncomfortable with their scrutiny.
"Mama taught me somethin' she called Cajun. Your name sounds like that."
The geneticist in Raoul was fascinated. So, even mongrels retained hints of their lineage.
"Raoul will do," he said, shutting down the part of him that wanted to ask Norris a number of questions. "And since I imagine we'll be leaving the city, a change of clothing would be for the best. First, though, I must ask that one of you perform a small service for me."
"Yeah?" Luke sounded wary.
"Yes. Just beneath the skin of my left shoulder blade, there is an ID implant. It will be traceable once we leave here, so I need it removed."
Retrieving his short-blade from the room's table, he offered it, hilt-first, to the mongrel.
"Would you mind?"
2
The lift carried Iason smoothly upward towards Jupiter's Sanctuary. He was already sure of this meeting's topics and he wasn't looking forward to it or the explanations the AI would demand of him.
Those concerns, though, paled beside the one occupying his mind almost to the exclusion of any others: he'd neither seen, nor heard from Riki or Katze for three days. According to Katze's Midas assistant, the red mongrel hadn't been to either of his offices for the same amount of time.
Iason could believe that Riki might be incommunicado for that long if he was mad enough. Katze was something else altogether. He'd considered trying Raoul, but quickly discarded the thought. The other Blondie wouldn't answer his com and risk a possible trace.
The lift halted, its doors opening soundlessly on the Sanctuary.
"Iason." Jupiter's clear tones rang through the room. "Come."
He walked through, stopping just behind the chair he usually sat in.
"Good evening Jupiter. What may I do for you?"
"You may tell me where Raoul Jervaux is. And why he has seen fit to free a Gladiator."
Iason inwardly steeled himself.
"My error. I sent the mongrel to him for training. I believe he formed... an attachment."
"An attachment." The glowing eyes seemed to burn straight through him. "Very like the one you have for your mongrel. And your Furniture."
He remained motionless, waiting.
"Within the last four days, your two 'pets' have stolen Arena property, killed Arena Guards, set fire to Midas and corrupted one of my most valued Blonde Elites. It has reached the point where I can no longer turn a blind eye to their indiscretions."
"Riki and Katze?"
"They are alive and in perfect health. They remain within the city, in Elite hands, and will continue to do so until you give me some assurance against future disruption."
Iason controlled his fear and rage, compressing them into a hard ball of heat in the center his chest.
"What do you wish of me?" he asked the AI, knowing what her answer would be.
"Submit to the will of the Tower. Voluntarily allow a mind-cleansing. I will perform it myself, since Raoul has deserted me. You will stay here as long as I deem necessary... and the black mongrel will be returned to Ceres. The Furniture will go back to his present duties and they will both have this episode removed from their minds. And your pet's memories of you will be altered. You will then find and return Raoul to me."
No, he wanted to say. I won't. But he knew it would be futile. On Amoi, Jupiter's word was final. Here in the Tower, he was as much her prisoner as Riki had been his, those first three years in Eos.
"How far do you intend to go?"
The AI understood him immediately.
"You will remember the past as an aberration; the mongrel a whim that ended badly. You will be as you were before you knew him. I merely wish to eradicate those emotions which have become troublesome, Iason. I have no desire to alter your mental structure or ability."
He kept his eyes locked on hers, willing himself immobile.
"You expect me to believe this after what happened with Vere and his pet?"
Slight distaste crossed the glowing features.
"That was not meant to happen. I trusted where I should not have. I did not instruct those men to harm the creature—they were merely to hold him for a few days. Should Matt come to me, I would have helped him. Your mongrels are not under the Citadel's auspices."
"And should I refuse?"
The distaste vanished and a distant, forbidding mask took its place.
"Then they will both be mentally altered to the point of docility and sold off-world. Tolerance is a luxury I can no longer afford, Iason. I will not allow anarchy to rule Tanagura."
It was an impossible decision... and unbearably simple to make. He looked up at the AI hovering above him.
"Your word, Jupiter; Riki and Katze will not be harmed."
"They will not."
"Then I will do as you wish."
He inclined his head in submission and suddenly the AI's hands were cupping his face, the blue eyes gazing into his, regret in their depths.
I want the best for you, my son. I would not do this, did I not believe it right.
"I know," he said, his voice a mere thread of sound.
"Go, then. The androids will take you to a room."
He bowed and left without speaking. As Jupiter had indicated, two of her man-like machines met him when the lift stopped, and directed him to a luxurious suite. Walking over to massive plas windows, he looked out on the city.
Where was Riki right now, he wondered. Trapped and terrified in some Eos tower? The Blondie smiled wryly. More likely trapped and furious—pounding on the walls and demanding release. How well he remembered.
And Katze. It had been a brilliant move on Jupiter's part to take the red-head as well. Katze was his greatest resource and if left at large would have probably been able to free Iason or Riki... or both of them. Jupiter had obviously paid closer attention to his former Furniture than he'd thought.
He blanked his mind of what would happen tomorrow, perhaps the next day. Cleansing was a last resort, and only two beings on Amoi were capable of performing the intricate, mind-to-mind procedure: Jupiter's personally-designed behavioral modifications specialist, who was always given telepathic and—to a certain extent—empathic ability... and Jupiter, for whom the human brain was just one more electrical apparatus.
Emotions were ephemeral things, never static, and difficult to pin down. To alter or erase them was considerably more difficult than memory removal. Trigger the wrong subconscious reaction, and you could render the cleansee insane. Although, Iason thought, insanity might be better than the alternative.
He couldn't imagine looking at Riki and not feeling that irresistible pull towards the mongrel. But Riki would be back in Ceres, his memories of Iason gone or radically different. In a few days, it would be as if the last six years had never happened.
Propping his shoulder against the plas, Iason watched the streaming lights below until they blurred together into glowing rivers of energy. He had some idea, now, of how Riki must have felt, walking deliberately towards his own death.
Iason would still be physically alive, but many of the things that made him who he was, and so much that he valued—the love of his fey imp, the freely-offered friendship of a brilliant, red-haired mongrel—would vanish beyond recall. Was simply being alive worth it, knowing that Riki would not be waiting for him this time?
As he leaned tiredly against the window, a thought pulled him from his stupor. How had Jupiter known that Raoul had taken Guy? And that Riki and Katze had been his conspirators. A deep frown slanted the white-blonde brows.
An Elite. It would have had to be. But who?
3
This time when his eyes opened, they stayed that way. Blinking against brilliantly white light, Riki waited for his vision to clear, then looked around.
He recalled lying on a table, restraints around his ankles and wrists, an IV in his arm. The restraints were still there, but now he was upright, spread-eagled against a wall. And naked as the day he was born. Across the room, Katze was in the same humiliating position.
"Awake already? Your constitution is truly fascinating. You threw off the effects of the drugs almost as quickly as a Blondie would."
Riki whipped his head to the side, searching for the source of that unmistakably Elite voice.
Leaning against the room's metal table was a Silver, one of the most beautiful Riki had ever seen. Alluringly tilted green eyes studied him with the indifference of the Elite kind.
Pushing from his reclining position, the man stalked gracefully over to stand in front of the black mongrel. Those eyes ran all over him, making his skin crawl.
"What does Mink see in you? The castrate is infinitely more pleasing to look on." One careless hand indicated Katze, who'd awakened and was now watching them from unblinking golden eyes.
Riki knew that Katze hated exposure, of any kind, above all else. The other mongrel had to be feeling furious and degraded, but none of that showed on his boss' face. It remained as inscrutable as a Blondie's.
"Maybe he got sick of dealing with stuck-up bastards like you," Riki told the Silver.
He knew the blow was coming. The man's speed surprised him, though, and he didn't see it, just felt the side of his face hit the hard-alloy wall he was currently attached to. His ears rang, his face throbbed and blood trickled down one cheek where skin had split just over bone.
Licking more blood from where his teeth had cut into his lower lip, he turned back to meet the Elite's eyes. The man looked utterly bored.
"It certainly isn't your behavior," the Silver murmured. "Mink with you—Raoul with that Arena trash. Why in the Gods' names would he risk his life for such a creature?"
This time, Riki kept his mouth shut. For such an insubstantial-seeming guy, the Silver packed one hell of a punch. And he knew about Raoul and Guy. Shit!
They must still be stuck in Midas and the only thing that kept Riki from panicking was the fact that the Blondie was smart enough to get them both out if he needed to... and that Luke and the guys were around. They'd figure something out between them.
"Where are we?" he asked around his split lip. "What are we doing here?"
"A lab. One of Raoul's, as it happens." The Elite's smile was unpleasant, to say the least. "And you are here to ensure Iason Mink's cooperation."
The Silver moved away from Riki to stand in front of Katze. The two were of a height, Riki noticed, and when the Elite gripped the pale jaw, Katze stared straight across into the man's emerald eyes.
Gloved fingers brushed flame-colored hair away from the scar and Katze's chin jerked reflexively. He stilled the movement, but not fast enough to avoid the Silver's notice.
"Don't like that, do you? You deliberately hide this," a finger-tip traced the long, white line and Riki saw Midas' Boss swallow hard.
The Silver's hand slid down Katze's throat and kept going, tracing the ridged muscle of the mongrel's stomach and stopping just above the light dusting of auburn hair at his groin.
"Do you know," the Elite said, conversationally, "that castration may take any of three forms? There is the one most common here on Amoi, where the testicles are rendered sterile but kept intact, while the penis is partially removed." Glancing over at Riki, the Silver smirked. "It makes for prettier Furniture and those who are marked for that occupation might as well have it done young."
That gloved hand continued to move over Katze, stroking the castrate's thighs and abdomen. As Riki watched, an unwilling audience, the red mongrel's cock began to harden.
"Then there is the barbarism practiced by the pirates of the Alethian galaxy: as punishment for betrayal or rape, they remove both the testicles and sex organ," the Silver continued, a finger now tracing the veins of Katze's erection.
The red mongrel drew in a sharp breath and turned his head to the side, eyes shutting tightly, and Riki bit his abused lip to keep his protest inside.
"And finally, we come to the last type, that of which this mongrel is a particularly lovely example; simple testicular removal." The hand finally left Katze's body and the Silver's face turned towards Riki. "Usually such mutilation would result in a plump, stunted male... unless the procedure was performed after the on-set of puberty. And in this case," fingers graze red pubic curls, "it was. A freakish impulse of Mink's, no doubt."
The man looked Katze over once more.
"Although... you have an almost Elite appearance. I could well have understood if Mink had taken you as his pet."
The Silver slid his fingers over the red mongrel's erect cock and Riki saw unwanted arousal and shame in the gold eyes that met his own.
"Just stop it! Leave him alone," he yelled, unable to keep silent any longer.
Moving with that frightening speed, the Silver was suddenly in front of him again, eyes like shards of green glass.
"Do you dare to give me orders, mongrel? I could kill you this instant."
"No you couldn't," Riki snarled. "Iason would rip you apart and you know it."
"Perhaps."
Riki didn't like the look on the other man's face. The Silver knew something he didn't. He was pretty sure it wasn't anything good either.
"What do you want from us?" he asked, feeling more than a little desperate.
The Elite studied him silently, as though Riki was a member of a strange new species the Silver was attempting to classify.
"I wish you to perform for me."
"What?" Riki wasn't sure he understood. Or maybe he just hoped he didn't.
"You are a pet, are you not?"
Not really, he wanted to say, but jerked his chin once in assent.
"If you wanna watch me jack off, you're gonna have to let me down from here," he gritted.
Mild amusement crossed the Elite's face.
"You mistake me. I don't want you to stimulate yourself. I wish you to bring the castrate to climax."
Raoul left Guy asleep on one of the beds in their new quarters and went back out into the main area. Norris, Luke and Sid were huddled together in the middle of the room, talking in low voices and looking worried.
They were somewhere in the Old City. Luke had taken advantage of one of his regularly scheduled drops to bring them here in a large land transport.
The Blondie examined his surroundings. This place was underground, and the construction was that of the earliest settlement, pre-dating even the original Tanagura. The Earth-dwellers had certainly built to last, carving directly into the bedrock of Amoi. It would do until Guy was strong enough to leave.
"Uh... Raoul?"
He turned at Luke's tentative hail.
"Yes?"
"I still can't raise Riki or Katze on the com, so I'm betting there's something seriously wrong back home. You guys should probably stay put for at least a week. Then I'll see if I can get you off-world transpo."
Raoul inclined his head slightly.
"I thank you. You've been of great help. But I believe I must contact someone in the city sooner than that."
Walking over to the two packs lying beside the outer port, Raoul stooped down and pulled a very thin, very powerful, very illegal lap-top from one pocket. Seating himself on a lounge, he set the device on a nearby table and opened it up.
Immediately, there were three fascinated mongrels peering over his shoulder.
"Fucking wow, man! Where'd you get somethin' like that?" Luke asked in reverent tones.
"Katze leant it to me," was the Blondie's terse reply. In actuality, Raoul had appropriated it from the dealer, the red mongrel's protests ringing loudly in his ears.
"Wonder where he got it?" he heard someone say and turned to look at the men standing over him.
"Do you mind?" he asked, and they all quickly backed off. "It may interest you to know," he said, turning the small terminal on, "that he designed it himself. It is self-charging as long as there is some kind of light energy, and does not need a power hook-up. And I can connect with any terminal, anywhere in this planetary system, even out here in the dead-zone. It will also disrupt any attempt to trace its signal. This, gentleman, is the work of a Machiavellian demon."
And well he knows it, he thought, an image of that particular crimson-haired devil springing to mind.
Turning his attention back to the computer in front of him, he resumed tapping at the key-pad. He might not be as experienced a hacker as Katze, but he could bypass a firewall or two if circumstances demanded it. And right now, they did. Besides, for a Blondie, breaching the Citadel's system was really just a matter of knowing whose ID to use... and where.
The place on his shoulder where the ID implant had been throbbed slightly, but for the most part, he hardly noticed any pain. He smiled inwardly, remembering the look on Luke's face when he'd offered the mongrel his short-blade. The man's eyes had nearly rolled back in his head.
Then Sid had stepped forward to take it, a gruff laugh rumbling from his throat. It's no good askin' him to do it, Sir. Princess, here, conks out if he cuts himself shaving.
Sid had made quick work of it, his movements brisk and competent, and by the time Norris brought Seal-It and gauze, the chip was gone and Luke was sitting on the floor, head hanging down between his knees, looking positively green.
"Ah. There you are." The Citadel's central computer welcomed him and asked him where he wanted to go. He scrolled through the directory, looking for officer ID files. Every member of the League was in here somewhere, along with their whereabouts, so he should be able to find a code for contacting Mattias Vere.
4
A strident buzzing woke Matt from a very sound sleep. Tir shifted against him, murmuring something, then settled back into the dream-state. The Blondie carefully disentangled himself from the boy and rose, pulling on a loose pair of pants.
His terminal was still shrieking by the time he got to the office and he hit the vid-com imprint harder than necessary.
"Whatever this is had better be damned important. It's bloody twenty-nine-hundred and I'm tired!"
The terminal's screen flickered, and then he was looking at a face he hadn't seen for a while.
"Jervaux?"
"Vere." The other Blondie's mouth tilted at one corner. "It's been a few years. You were not expecting me, I take it?"
"Hell no! I was expecting you to be several hundred light-years away. What the fuck are you still doing on-planet?! Jupiter's got half her androids out looking for you!"
"The 'port's too much of a chance right now. And don't bother trying a trace, Mattias. It won't work."
Matt scowled at the serene picture Raoul presented.
"Jervaux, I really don't give a shit if you want to blow up the entire damn Arena, but the rest of us are stuck cleaning your fall-out. Midas still has a couple of hot-spots and the League's been mobilized to keep people out of not only the Warehouse district, but three others besides."
"Really?" A golden brow arched. "I'll have to tell them not to use such a heavy hand with the charges next time."
"What do you mean, 'them'? Damn, but you've got some balls, comming me in the-,"
"Matt?"
He whipped around to see Tir standing in the open port, a blanket wrapped around him, long black hair falling everywhere in sleep-messy waves.
"It's alright, Tir. Go back to bed."
The mongrel took a step further into the room.
"Don't send him away, Vere, he's part of the reason I called."
Tir's eyes widened and he came to stand at Matt's shoulder.
"H-hello," he said shyly to the Blondie on-screen.
"You're Tir?"
"Yes. Did you—need something, Sir?"
"I'm Jervaux, young one. Have you heard from Riki lately?"
Tir leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Raoul.
"No. No, I haven't. I talk to him most days, but I haven't been able to reach him for four, now. And there's no answer at the condo either. Mr. Mink doesn't respond. But I didn't think Riki was in trouble because—," he broke off.
"Why?" Raoul asked.
"I have a tracer chip for him. I think it's part of his pet ring." Tir blushed slightly. "But the distress signal hasn't come up on my terminal, so either he's okay, or-,"
"Or he's not in a position to activate it," Raoul finished grimly. "Hells. I need to know what's going on in Tanagura, Vere. And where Iason is and what he's doing."
"Don't we all," Matt said, his tone dry. "He might have left town for a few days, you know. If so, great. Let him go cause problems in someone else's city for a while."
"Tanagura is Iason's, Captain." Raoul's voice was as bland as his face.
"Not from the League's point-of-view, it's not," Matt returned.
"You've been in the army too long, Vere. You've forgotten what it's like on the outside." Raoul looked directly at Tir. "Do you have the operations programming for the ring on that chip? You might be able to activate the trace from your terminal."
Tir looked thoughtful.
"I'll have to look through the data. I just dumped the files onto my hard-drive. I haven't had time to go over them yet."
"Very well. My thanks, young one. Vere—I'll be in touch."
The Blonde Elite's image vanished and Matt shoved his chair back, expression disgruntled.
"That... Blondie. Lights Midas on fire, then thinks he can stick around to watch it burn."
"Mmm," Tir replied in a preoccupied tone, pushing his irritable lover gently out of the way and seating himself in front of Matt's terminal. "You're one too, you know."
"Don't remind me."
White fingers began to fly over the key-pad as Tir searched for the information he wanted.
"I'd like to know what kind of module he used," the youth remarked absently. "It completely erased it's own signature."
Matt frowned, leaning over the mongrel's shoulder to look at the screen.
"Is that possible?"
"In theory—yes. But a terminal like that is highly illegal, and terribly expensive to produce."
The files from Riki's chip appeared, and Tir ran through lines of numbers and symbols that meant nothing at all to the Blondie.
"No... no... no... yes! There they are. Now, let's see if I can get in."
Tir's eyes were glued to the screen and it looked to Matt as if the boy was settled in for the long haul. Gathering a handful of black silk, he tilted Tir's head back until he was staring down into wide violet pools.
"I'm going back to bed. Wake me when you've got something."
Tir nodded, worry filling his beautiful eyes.
"You may have to go get him, Matt. I don't like this situation. It feels—wrong."
"What can you expect when Mink's involved?" Matt asked, heavy irony in the words. He liked and respected the other Blondie, but Iason Mink couldn't stay out of trouble if you force-cuffed him to a metal wall. In a completely impregnable room. Surrounded by androids.
Leaning down, he brushed his mouth over Tir's then let him go. Tir pulled him back down for a longer kiss that left them both breathless.
"You'd better not do that if you want to finish this, little one," he murmured against the mongrel's lips, and felt Tir smile.
"Go away, then," Tir pushed Matt towards the door, giving him a naughty look in passing. "I'll deal with you later."
"I certainly hope so," the Blondie replied softly, smiling as Tir turned back to the terminal and became absorbed by incomprehensible numbers.
He wandered into their bedroom, yawning. Might as well com Ming and Jaz and let them know they'd be heading out soon. If he had to be awake at this ungodly hour, so did they.
Ronin awoke to unfamiliar surroundings. So what's new?, he asked himself, rolling to a sitting position. He flinched as a stabbing pain shot through his still-healing shoulder, the muscle protesting his sudden movement.
I gotta quit getting nailed in that arm, he thought. Next time it ain't gonna grow back.
It occurred to him that he still thought of himself as Ronin. He answered when Raoul called him Guy... but he didn't feel like Guy anymore. Would he ever?
Rising unsteadily from the bed, he used the wall as a support to make his way to the bath. After relieving himself, he stepped into the shower, using the old-fashioned manual control to turn the water to near boiling.
It didn't take long for him to get dizzy, and he was sitting on the stall's floor when Raoul walked in and stood outside the plas enclosure, arms crossed.
That was a new look for Sensei, he thought. Or maybe this surreal cave was making him hallucinate. But no, that was Raoul, dressed completely in tan leathers that showed off his golden beauty to perfection.
"Hey there, Sensei," he said in a far-away voice. "Ya look pretty hot."
"And you sound like you've been on a three-day stout binge," Raoul replied, his tone ominous.
"Um. Kinda feel that way."
Sensei tilted his face upwards, eyes closed, and Ronin was sure the Blondie was thinking something like, 'Great gods, why me?'
Opening the stall's door, Raoul shut off the water and tossed Ronin a towel.
"Dry off, and crawl out of there. Since you're awake we may as well begin a process you will not enjoy in the least."
"Way to tease me, Sensei," Ronin muttered. "Why does this sound familiar?"
"Those who stubbornly refuse to admit their mistakes are doomed to repeat them. If you'd obeyed me several months ago, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Ronin paused in toweling his hair.
"Not gonna start with that again, are you?"
"It would be pointless." Raoul watched as he dragged himself slowly to his feet and staggered from the shower.
"So what's this new and awful thing I gotta do?" Ronin asked in a surly tone. Shit, he hurt!
The Blondie regarded him from faintly amused cyan eyes.
"It's called rehabilitation. The hospital didn't complete regeneration, and if that arm is ever to work properly again, you will need to stretch the muscle regularly."
Ronin groaned.
"I shoulda known. You are definitely the sadistic type, Sensei."
The drugs had been in the water, he was reasonably certain. He hadn't eaten anything since he'd arrived and this type of relaxant would have reacted badly with the single glass of wine he'd drunk earlier.
If he recalled correctly, the powerful substance currently wending its way through his blood-stream would leave his mind and body open to suggestion; would allow the cleansing to proceed without harm to his nervous system.
It didn't feel bad—just strange. Thoughts he'd never consciously acknowledged drifted lazily through his brain; wisps of long-forgotten events surfaced from the depths of memory... his first face-to-face meeting with Jupiter at age sixteen, the strange aquatic mutant that had so disturbed Riki at their second encounter in Midas.
Riki...
Iason clung deliberately to the thought of his mongrel. He took advantage of this expanded state of awareness to gather every memory he possessed of Riki the Dark—good and bad—reliving them one at a time before releasing them.
Within the center of his being, using a skill Raoul had taught him a very long time ago, he began to close his conscious self off from the rest of his mind. The walls he imagined were high and white, supporting a far-away ceiling. There were no windows and no door. The inner Iason slid down to sit cross-legged on the floor of the pristine room, leaning back against one softly-glowing white surface.
He was vaguely aware of androids directing him to the lift. But by the time his body was seated in the Sanctuary, he'd already shut himself off from the physical world. Within the mental maze he'd built around his awareness, he smiled faintly.
He was in the Tower. He'd agreed to Jupiter's terms. He'd never said he wouldn't make this as difficult for her as he possibly could.
5
Riki stared at the Silver Elite in disbelief.
"He can't come, you sick bastard," he said in a low voice. "Don't you fucking know that?"
"I know no such thing," the man replied calmly. "Even a man with no genitalia whatsoever may experience orgasm through stimulation of the prostate gland. Since this castrate possesses a penis and functional hormonal response, it should be fairly simple to accomplish."
The dark mongrel stayed silent for long seconds, his mind racing, trying to find some way out of this insane situation.
"What if I say no?" he growled.
"In that case, I'll have another pet do it—and allow you to watch. I advise you to comply, mongrel. Someone else might not take as much—care—as you would."
"Sonnuva fucking bitch!"
Caught up in his fury, Riki yanked at the cuffs that bound him to the wall, jerking and straining at his bonds until he couldn't any more and hung limply in them, wrists and ankles bruised and bloody.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice nearly inaudible.
"I wish to know what makes mongrels so irresistible that two Blondies would destroy their lives for a pair of Ceres sewer-rodents."
The Elite stared at Riki, his face a smooth blank, but his voice... for the first time, there was something like real emotion in the cultured tones. And Riki was pretty sure that emotion was anger.
We're substitutes, he thought, finally seeing the cold ire in those green eyes. He's pissed at somebody and he's gonna take it out on us.
"Riki."
For the first time since he'd awakened, Katze spoke. The mongrels' eyes met, and Riki could see absolutely nothing in the other man's gaze. He wondered if that was good or bad.
"It's alright," his boss said in a voice as empty as his face and Riki wished ferociously for the freedom to pound the Silver Elite into the ground. "Do what you have to."
I will, he thought. The minute I get off this wall...
As though reading the dark mongrel's mind, the Silver spoke.
"Don't imagine that once I release you, you will be able to attack me. Those bands around your wrists and ankles have the ability to administer the same kind of shock as a pet ring, only many times stronger."
Figures.
He looked across at Katze, asking without words. The other man nodded once, letting Riki know that the red mongrel preferred him over the unknown.
Riki directed his gaze back to the Silver. I hate you, he thought. When I get out of these cuffs I'm gonna gut you and watch you die slowly.
"I'll do it," was all he said, then turned his face away, not wanting to see that calculating, distant curiosity any longer.
Tir frowned at his screen. Access denied. Again. He tried another sequence, with the same results. Hmm. Time to bring in the heavy artillery.
Calling up one of his own programs, he put it to work unraveling the ring's intricate system of safeguards. He smiled to himself. Iason Mink wasn't the only paranoid man within Riki's sphere. Between Katze and the Blondie, there wasn't micron's worth of difference.
A single sharp click, and Katze's arms dropped to his sides. Runnels of pain coursed from the tops of his shoulders down his back as his arms began to tingle, returning to life. Across the room, Riki seemed to be having the same experience.
"Fuck!" the black mongrel said, massaging numbed fingers.
"Your discourse is remarkably profane," the Silver Elite remarked.
Riki's head came up and he stared insolently at the man.
"Hell-fucking-yes," he drawled, a sneer marring his elfin features.
Katze tensed. Don't goad this man, Riki, he pleaded silently. We can't afford it.
The Silver stayed in place, though, his eyes wandering over to Katze. The red mongrel repressed his shudder. To have anyone look at him like this... and to know that he would be forced to...
His mind veered away from the thought. He would deal with it the same way he'd dealt with every other indignity for the last thirteen years: with the detached calm he'd learned from the man who'd bought him so long ago.
Riki moved, crossing the room to stand in front of him and Katze held himself rigid, suddenly sure he wouldn't be able to go through with this. Then his friend looked up at him and gave that endearing half-grin.
"I'll take care of things, Boss," he said, softly. "Don't I always?"
Then he reached out and took Katze's hand, guiding it down to his cock.
At first Katze froze, shocked that Riki would do such a thing, but as soon as his fingers touched metal, he understood the other mongrel's motivations intimately. Curling his fingers around Riki's half-erect penis, he let his thumb slide along the pet ring's surface, searching for the slight depression that hid a panic button.
Clever, clever Riki. Thanking the gods for Riki's hard-won maturity, and a birthday present he'd once thought ridiculous, Katze allowed the dark mongrel to pull his head down so their mouths met, while he found and pressed that tiny hope for escape.
When the light flashed on in his monitor's upper corner, Tir thought for an instant that his program had broken all kinds of records for hacking speeds. Then he realized that activation had come from the outside.
White teeth sank into a full bottom lip as he typed in a set of commands and watched a map of Tanagura form on his screen. Riki was somewhere in the Parthean side of the city.
Swiftly, he called up a more detailed plan of that district and let the trace do its job. Once he'd pinpointed the building, he could go looking for the plans and find every possible way in and out.
"Matt!"
The Blondie appeared almost instantly, coming to stand behind Tir's chair.
"You find him?"
"He finally activated the trace. I'll have the exact location in... well, right now." Tir moved so Matt could get a better look at the screen. "Do you recognize it? You worked in that area, right?"
Matt frowned at the map.
"Jupiter's labs. I guess that answers that question. Mink must have pushed her too far, for once."
"Do you think you'll be able to get in?" Tir asked anxiously.
Matt threw him a half-amused, half-insulted look.
"You know better than anyone what I can do, little one."
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. It's just... I'm worried."
"I know you are, Tir." He brushed his fingers over one smooth white cheek. "Get the layout for me. If he's where I think he is, we'll take the tunnels."
Pulling out his com, he flipped it open.
"Ming, it's a go. Mobilize the unit. I want us underway by oh-one-hundred at most." Matt shut the com and turned his attention back to Tir.
"Got 'em?"
"Umm..." Blue-white light illumined Tir's features, throwing them into sharp relief. "Yeah. Got 'em."
"Excellent. Now find me a way in there so we can get him the hell out."
6
He could hear a voice from far off, calling his name over and over. He didn't answer. For some reason that he couldn't quite remember, doing so would produce unwelcome results, so he ignored the summons.
Besides, it was comfortable here. Soothing. Clean white walls surrounded him, and he had his thoughts and memories to keep him company.
Iason.
Frowning, he shut his eyes, shutting the voice out along with them. Just to see if he could, he called to mind the opening paragraph of the last novel he'd read, then slowly began to recreate the story, word for word. That should keep him occupied for some time. The voice faded into nothing.
Katze tried to disconnect himself from the feel of Riki's fingers stroking his skin—but he couldn't. It felt too damned good. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had the pleasure of simple human touch.
Full lips pressed softly against his own, and long brown fingers slid slowly over his flanks, moving around to rub circles against the tops of his thighs.
Riki pulled back to look up at him, a smile glimmering in the midnight eyes, telling Katze that they'd be alright; the black mongrel was sure they'd make it out of here. And in the meantime, they'd give this Silver his show. Maybe he'd go away.
Sliding to his knees, Riki leaned forward to rub one cheek against Katze's erection. A pointed tongue traced a line from crown to base, following the vein on the underside of his cock.
Gods!
One of Riki's hands closed around the base of his sex, the fingers of the other exploring the empty sac and the strip of skin behind it. Then warm wet engulfed his erection and he sagged against the wall behind him.
Ah, hells, but that was good. If Katze hadn't already understood Iason's physical attraction to the man whose mouth was presently wrapped around his cock, he would now. Riki obviously numbered expert fellatio among his many talents.
He wasn't sure if he'd be able to come, though. He'd had sex off and on over the years, giving in when the craving got to be too much, but he'd only been able to achieve orgasm once or twice. A few years ago he'd given up trying. The frustration and disappointment, to say nothing of the embarrassment of dealing with his partner, weren't worth it.
That agile tongue stroked the ridge of nerves just beneath the crown, and Katze dug his nails into his palms. Then Riki was pulling away, sucking as he went and Midas' Boss had to swallow the groan that rose in his throat.
The black mongrel stared up at Katze as he licked two of his fingers, getting them very wet.
"Spread your legs," Riki said in a low, rough voice, and Katze obeyed without thought.
A finger circled his entrance, moistening the puckered skin, before sliding inward. He sucked in a breath of air, the sharp intake almost burning his lungs. Inside him, the finger probed deeper, searching... and brushed against something that shot pleasure through his whole body. A second finger pushed in beside the first, and then Riki's mouth surrounded his penis once more.
It happened faster than he would ever have thought possible. Fingertips massaged his prostate rhythmically, a hot, wet tongue worked his cock, and Riki opened his throat, taking Katze all the way in.
The dark mongrel swallowed and the motion caressed every inch of the castrate's erection. Pressure inside him built to unbearable proportions—and exploded. His teeth clamped down on his lower lip, breaking the skin and tearing into vulnerable flesh as his body convulsed helplessly, almost painful ecstasy rippling through him in endless waves.
When he finally came back to himself, Riki still knelt in front of him, the dark head leaning against his abdomen. Ignoring the Elite who watched, he gently laid his hand on the other mongrel's hair.
This shouldn't have happened... but it had. It hadn't changed anything either, Katze realized, not for him. Riki was still one of his two closest friends, and Katze trusted him—with his own scarred and mutilated body and with his life.
In the next moment his arms and legs were yanked backwards into their former position against the wall.
"Up, mongrel," the Elite said, and Riki rose slowly to his feet. "Go to the table and bend over it."
Riki stiffened, unable to make his limbs move. He couldn't do this. He wouldn't.
"No," he snarled at his enemy.
As soon as the word was out of his mouth, fierce jolts of agony speared him, shooting from his wrists and ankles throughout his entire body. He dropped back to his knees, curling in on himself, trying to relieve the torment ripping into his gut.
It ended as abruptly as it had begun. He lay panting on the floor as the Silver Elite came forward to stand over him.
"Are you ready to obey?" the man asked.
"Fuck you," Riki rasped, waiting for another wave of electric torture.
Instead, the Elite gestured and the dark mongrel's wrists locked together behind his back. Reaching down, the Silver pulled Riki up by his hair.
Strained muscles protested, but the grip on his scalp was painfully insistent and he stood, swaying in the Elite's hold. Looking over at Katze, he saw outrage burning in his boss's eyes, though the other mongrel said nothing. They both knew it would just make things worse.
Then he was shoved forward, landing hard against the table's edge. His wrists separated for an instant, then slammed down against the metal surface.
"You're ill-trained. Mink must be slipping," the hated voice murmured in his ear.
"When we get out of here, he'll kill you," Riki hissed. "If I don't get to you first."
"Oh, but he won't." Long, gloved fingers teased the crease of his ass, making him want to puke.
One of those fingers pushed inside his anus, his unprepared tissues burning with the stretch. The Silver's other hand toyed with his balls and penis and though he fought it, he started to get hard. Then another finger pressed inward and the combined digits hit his gland.
He remembered a dark, dirty room in Midas and Iason doing this exact thing to him. Now, as then, he could not fight the calculated stimulation of his pleasure centers. Shutting his eyes tight, he bit viciously into his bottom lip to keep from giving this Elite the satisfaction of sound.
"When I'm through with you, mongrel, Mink will be a faintly remembered dream. And when he leaves the Tower, you will be less than nothing to him," the voice purred.
Riki's eyes snapped open just as the Silver pushed simultaneously on his prostate and Jen-Mo point. He came in dry, wrenching throbs, the thumb pressed into his perineum preventing ejaculation. When he thought it was finally over, the fingers in his ass moved, brushing his prostate one more time and he came again—head thrown back, tears of pleasure/pain streaming from his eyes.
Then the tormenting hands were gone and he slumped over the table, sobs of anger heaving out of him. Though he'd climaxed twice, his cock was still rock-hard, his sac swollen with unreleased semen.
"Fascinating... but no more so than any other pet. Certainly too rebellious for my tastes; you're not worth the trouble it would take to train you properly."
Stripping off his gloves, the Silver dropped them on the table. A moment later, Riki heard the room's port slide shut.
Iason had humiliated and forced him many times during his first three years in Eos. But nothing the Blondie had done had made him feel like some cheap whore, there to be used and discarded at will. Nothing Iason had done to him had ever made him feel so worthless.
7
Matt watched the Silver Elite stride down the long corridor, disappearing around a sharp turn. Sliding the ceiling panel open, he dropped soundlessly to the ground, signaling Jaz and the other two men with him to follow.
"I'm in position Cap." Ming's voice spoke into his ear-com in the near soundless whisper all Teams used in enemy territory.
"What's it look like?"
"Mongrels. Two of 'em. Red and black."
"Get 'em loose, LT."
"Yes Sir."
Matt moved swiftly down long, still halls, the men behind him spread out and wary.
"Tir, you there?"
"Yes."
"You're gonna have to take us out, brat. I don't want to go back the way we came in."
"Okay. Has Ming disconnected the restraints?"
"I'll find out in a minute. We're almost there."
Movement caught Riki's eye where he still lay against the table and his head shot up.
"Thought you were supposed to stay outta trouble, kid," said Lt. Ming.
He didn't think he'd ever been so glad to see someone in his life. Well, his second life, at any rate.
Team 15's SIC was dressed head-to-toe in some kind of sleek black skin-suit equipped with a utility belt and lots of sealed pockets. Reaching out, she smeared something near each of Riki's cuffs.
"You guys took your sweet time gettin' here," he said, his voice shaky.
She shot him a look out of sardonic black eyes.
"We didn't know where you were, moron. Close your eyes."
When he did, two muffled explosions jarred his body. His wrists felt like they'd shattered into a million pieces. As it turned out, it was only the cuffs surrounding them that'd splintered.
"What the fuck-?!"
Ming was already at Katze's side, doing the same thing to his restraints she'd done to Riki's.
"Demolitions expert. Ain't got time to do this all fancy," she said briefly. Then, "Fire in the hole."
Riki ducked under the table and was once again jolted by several short detonations. At least this time they were further away.
"Here." Ming tossed him a tiny wad of black cloth which unfolded into a normal skin-suit, though of a thinner weave than anything he'd ever seen. Katze was already sliding into his.
Putting a hand to her ear-com, Ming listened for a brief second, her eyes roaming restlessly around the room.
"Yeah, Cap." She turned to look at the other two mongrels. "Think y'all can run?"
They both nodded.
"Yep," she said into the com and walked to the door, pulling something from one of her pouches.
"May I?" Katze asked, coming to stand beside her.
When she made a 'go ahead' gesture, the red-head opened the room's control panel and tapped steadily at the key pad for a few seconds. The door slid open.
"Cool." Ming went first, her weapon out, her movements smooth and quiet.
"How'd you do that so quick?" Riki muttered at Katze.
"I stole Raoul's override. He took my new laptop," the other mongrel mumbled back, then quickly shut up when Ming tossed them both a nasty look.
They met the blonde Captain and his crew at the next turn.
"Tir?"
Vere spoke into his com while his gaze moved over Riki and Katze, missing nothing, the dark mongrel was sure. The Captain listened for a moment then nodded to Ming.
"Let's go."
Katze hadn't experienced so much physical exertion in years. He kept himself in fairly good condition—at least he'd thought so before this. He'd certainly gained new respect for the League and its soldiers.
Vere and his Team moved like wraiths even at the light jog they'd been doing for the last ten minutes. Both Katze and Riki kept up, but they were exhausted from drugs and stress and he didn't know how much longer they'd last.
Luckily, they'd encountered few people moving around the labs this late at night—or, maybe this early in the morning. He realized that he had no idea what time or day it was. The room they'd been in had no windows and they'd been drugged most of the time.
Up front of their haphazard column, Vere raised a fist, calling a halt. They were outside right now, winding through the labs' complicated complex of buildings and Katze thought the Blondie was looking for something.
It seemed that he'd found it, too, since they started moving again, this time away from the laboratory grounds. They didn't go far, only through a few deserted side streets, before stopping once more.
"Think he knows where he's going?" Riki asked under his breath.
"Actually... I do."
They both watched as the Blondie bent over what seemed to be a depression in the concrete, touching something they couldn't see. A round port slid open, disappearing into the ground.
Riki pushed forward to look into the opening; his mouth dropped open.
"What the hell is that?" he asked.
"The tunnels," the female mongrel said.
Katze glanced at her. Riki had told him about the woman lieutenant, but he hadn't really understood the black mongrel's admiration until he'd met her himself. That was one fem you didn't want to fuck with. He made it a safe bet that when she was a kid in Ceres, she'd killed more than one man in self defense.
"Move out," the Blondie said in his brusque tone and the three enlisted soldiers disappeared one by one into the opening. Ming looked over at Katze.
"You're next," she said, grinning at him.
Lowering himself to the rungs that vanished into black nothing, Katze took a breath—and started downward.
"My guess is that when Jupiter planned the second Tanagura, she wanted an escape route for the Elite and a way for the army to get in and out of the city without detection. They're android-built, I believe."
"They're fucking huge."
"You could say that. There are low-altitude speeders docked in several different bays for transportation, but they're an older model and I've found that hover bikes work best down here. The passage widths aren't all the same and bikes provide better maneuverability. They respond faster, too, if you have to stop suddenly."
Riki walked beside Vere, glancing around him at wide-spaced, echoing stone walls with dim lights built into them at intervals. They were headed back to where the Captain and his small unit had parked their transpo.
"How'd you know about them? 'Cause you're a Blondie?"
"Actually, no."
The mongrel cocked his head in question.
"Tir ran across them in some old League schematics. I was curious, so Ming and I came down to see if they really existed. Up until then, they hadn't been used for centuries. They're all but forgotten, even by Jupiter."
"Awesome," Riki said, staring into darkness that seemed to go on forever.
"There are direct routes that lead from the Citadel to Tanagura—and from Tanagura to Midas and Ceres. A number of them go further out under the Old City, but I've not yet explored that far."
"Damn. I wish I'd known about these back when I ran Bison." The dark mongrel shook his head. "We would've ruled the Ceres market."
Vere snorted.
"That would, of course, be your first thought."
"No. It was my second." Riki put a hand on Vere's arm, looking up into the Blondie's face. "Any of these go to the Tower?"
"Well—yes." The Captain seemed somewhat surprised by the question. "Why?"
"There was a Silver there tonight... at the labs; he said Iason's at the Tower. Said that when he got out—he wouldn't give a damn what happened to me."
"He was referring to mind-cleansing. It's something that's done when an Elite goes a little too far off course. Basically, it's emotional erasure. And as Jervaux has gone AWOL, she'll do it herself."
Riki's face remained passive, but within it, his eyes burned like molten metal.
"I'm calling in your marker, Vere, since Iason ain't here to do it. Help me get him out and we're square."
8
"Okay, that's it. I'm not even sure if I care whether I can bend this arm right or not."
Ronin sat on the concrete floor of an odd looking, stone-walled gym, every muscle in his body aching and his shoulder throbbing like a sore tooth.
"You will care very much in another week or so when we leave this dubious shelter. The possibility of attack is good."
Raoul stood over him, arms crossed. The Blondie had pulled his hair back into a tail very much like the one Ronin used to wear in Ceres, and he had to admit that he liked it. A lot. A few wavy threads had escaped, and he studied them in fascination.
"Y'know, this is kinda weird, Sensei. A mongrel with really long hair and a Blondie who cut his off. It's like... role-reversal or somethin'."
The look Raoul gave him was more than a little exasperated.
"Could we possibly discuss something else? I am bored to death with the subject. And just what is it that makes you—and the rest of your pack—so fascinated by an Elite hairstyle?"
Ronin crooked his knees, rested his arms across them and grinned up at the Blondie.
"Oh, we think it looks hot, that's all. There's just something about all that long hair, especially when it's blonde—it's the stuff of wet dreams. First time the rest of the guys saw Iason? Jerk-off material for weeks, I guarantee you."
Raoul looked both astonished and slightly ill and Ronin's grin turned to out-right laughter.
"Sensei, I wish you could see your face. You look like you're gonna barf."
Raoul gazed down into bright eyes and felt the corners of his mouth twitch in response.
"If that word means what I think it does, I rather feel that way. This is what you might refer to as 'way too much information'."
"You're goin' mongrel on me, Sensei. I'm disappointed."
Raoul might have believed him if not for those mischievous eyes. It was good to see that expression in them again.
"Up, mongrel. I'll let this go for today, since I have other things to accomplish. Tomorrow I will not be so lenient."
Holding a hand out, he pulled Guy to his feet. The mongrel pressed against him for a heady moment, then moved away, rolling his shoulders and stretching like a lazy
were... and leaving Raoul with an erection.
Guy stopped at the port and glanced back at the Blondie, the impish look on his face telling Raoul that he knew exactly what he'd done—that he had, in fact, done it on purpose.
"You'd best get moving before I decide you need another hour of stretches," Raoul said in an expressionless voice.
The mongrel vanished immediately, and Raoul heard him mutter, "Blondies," under his breath. He permitted himself a small smile before following.
Guy was already in the shower by the time he reached their rooms. This odd, underground dwelling had once been occupied by many humans, but now a number of the deserted rooms were used for storage. Off-planet smuggling storage, he was fairly certain.
Opening his pilfered lap-top, he connected to the Space and began the process of hacking into the Tower database, since he couldn't use his ID or Iason's. Katze had a very clever program installed on this creation of his, so he activated it and waited, watching row after row of numeric sequences flood the screen.
"Whatcha doin'?"
"Something that would get me in a great deal of trouble, were I to be caught," he replied, glancing up at Guy.
The mongrel wore nothing but a pair of old jeans; a faint mist of water sheened golden skin. Against it, the wide, red scars stood out in stark relief. He'd unbraided and washed his hair and was now attempting to comb it out, with little success.
"Come here."
Sliding fluidly down to sit in front of the Blondie, Guy handed him the comb. Working the tangles from the long strands, Raoul kept one eye on the lap-top's screen, enjoying the sensation of Guy's hair sliding through his fingers.
"Is that what I think it is?" the mongrel asked.
"It depends on what you're thinking."
"Looks like you're running codes. You hacking something, Sensei?"
Tugging the comb through the last knot, Raoul tossed it on the lounge and began to braid the coffee-dark silk in his hands.
"I suppose you might call it that. I want to see if Jupiter's restricted files contain maps of Old Tanagura. I have a basic idea of where we are, but I like specifics, not generalities. And I'd prefer not having to fight my way out of here blind."
"Oh yeah," Guy agreed, then leaned backwards so that he was looking at Raoul upside down. "Think it'll come to that?"
A slight frown marred the high, white brow.
"Honestly, Guy, I don't know. But it is better to be prepared, no?"
The mongrel nodded and Raoul wrapped the strip of leather Guy handed him around the end of the mahogany tail. On the table, the terminal pinged softly and the Blondie leaned forward, scanning the screen before typing in a series of commands.
"Looks like you're in," Ronin said, moving to lean against the couch and Raoul, his head resting on the Blondie's thigh.
"Hm."
Charts and diagrams appeared on-screen, a long line of them that changed rapidly as the Blondie watched, his eyes intent. Finally he touched the pad and the swiftly moving diagrams stopped on one odd-looking drawing.
"Interesting."
Ronin looked from the map to Sensei and back. The roads were weird—the layout like no street system he knew of.
"What is it?" he asked, curious.
"A subterranean thoroughfare. Look here," Raoul traced an area with one index finger. "This is Eos—or would be above-ground. And these," the long finger followed the curving lines indicating the presence of roads, "lead out from it to Midas."
Whoa.
"Is it real?"
"Not sure." The golden Elite's fingers traversed the key-pad, and the images changed once again, this time to a group of schematics very like the one they'd just been looking at.
Raoul sat back against the lounge, expression meditative.
"Iason may know. Anyone else—uncertain. The army might. I would guess that if these were actually built, it was in part for the Centurions. And I do know someone who'd probably be able to tell me. I said I'd be in touch, anyway."
"Who?"
"Just a Blondie."
"Oh great. Another one."
"The Tower is full of androids and Elite at all times of the day, though inner traffic slows late at night. Aside from the government levels, ninety through one-hundred are dedicated to keeping Tanagura operational. 101 is Jupiter's controls center: housing for Lambda 3000. There's nothing above that until the Sanctuary."
Riki examined the holographic projection of Jupiter's Tower from the edge of a long, rectangular sim-platform. They were at Team 15's HQ and this room appeared to be reserved for strategic planning.
The three-dimensional holo showed internal structure, entrances and exits, as well as walk-ways and ventilation ducts.
"There are three tunnels that lead into it. The one we'll take opens directly into the generator stations. Jupiter has none of her electronic eyes on that portion. I know—I've gone in that way before. But that won't do us much good, because at some point, we'll have to use the Sanctuary lift. She'll know the minute we do."
"So basically, you're telling me that the only way to get up there is to put her out of commission somehow."
The holo flickered out and Vere braced his palms against the platform, meeting the mongrel's eyes across it.
"Basically? Yes. A distraction might buy us some time—but I can't think of anything off the top of my head good enough to get her attention. In a way, the Tower is Jupiter. It's her body, and she'll know if some artery or vein isn't channeling correctly."
"Could you get me into Controls?"
Both Riki and Vere turned at the sound of Katze's voice. The red-head was standing in the open port, in the process of lighting a cigarette. He looked at them over the flame.
"If I've got direct access, I can drop a chameleon-worm into the Lambda's CPU. Tir's got a couple really nasty ones. She'll be distracted enough for me to shut her down, if that's what you want."
Riki blinked, not sure he'd heard right, as Katze strolled into the room to lean against one wall.
"Shut... down? As in—deactivate? You're good Boss, but how the hell you gonna take down a five-hundred-year-old AI?"
Gold eyes watched him, a hint of self-mockery in them.
"At her essential level, she's a series of programs. Extremely advanced, complicated as hell and warped besides, but programs none-the-less. You can deactivate any program if you know what you're doing. And I do. How do you think I got this?" One white finger traced the faded scar on his cheek. "Iason wouldn't have marked me for playing tic-tac-toe on his terminal. Hacking into the Tower's encrypted database can be extremely informative. And he never knew quite how far in I'd gotten."
Pale lips curved around the cig and Riki shook his head in disbelief.
"You're tellin' me you can turn Jupiter off," he said, his voice skeptical.
"Under the right set of circumstances... yes, I believe so."
"You believe so." Vere crossed his arms. "That's a lot to risk on one man's belief."
"Have you got any better ideas?"
The sculpted mouth flattened.
"No. But that still doesn't tell me how we're going to get up to level 101 without detection."
"Matt?"
Tir hovered uncertainly in the doorway, looking at the three men spread out over the room.
"Yes, Tir? What is it?"
"You have a com. Mr. Jervaux."
"You're a difficult man to find, Vere. This is the third code I've tried."
"I was busy," Matt replied curtly.
"Riki?"
"Was at the labs. The ones you ran up until a couple of days ago. I brought him back here, along with Mink's XO."
"It was Jupiter, then. And I take it you're referring to Katze. Where's Iason?"
"The Tower." Matt leaned back in his chair. "He's in for cleansing, Jervaux. I owe him. His mongrel wants my help, and he has it. Does he have yours?"
"Certainly. It seems we both have debts to pay. What is it you want me to do, Vere?"
"Tonight, around twenty-eight hundred, I want you to walk through the Tower's front portal."
9
"You don't want much, do you?" Raoul asked, lightly. At his feet, Guy had gone utterly still.
The Captain's face hardened.
"I need a distraction that will get the attention of every Elite there—in addition to Jupiter. You're the hot topic in the city, right now, Jervaux. When she notices you, she'll do something about it. And there is always the outside possibility that you'll make it up to the Sanctuary. Do something so obvious they would never expect it, then whack 'em from behind. I can't wait on this—yes or no?"
"I'll do it," he said, "under one condition."
"Yes?"
"Have Katze erase Guy from Arena's files. I want no trace of him left in any system. And that includes police records."
"Done."
"One more thing, Captain—what do you know about Tanagura's system of underground passages? I just came across some interesting charts in Jupiter's restricted files."
Vere's brows rose in surprise.
"You have diagrams of the tunnels?"
"So you know of them. From what I can tell, they branch out from a cluster of subterranean dwellings near the edge of the Old City. And there's some type of transport from there into Ceres."
"Probably Hovers. They're docked along the rest of the main passages. I haven't made it out past Ceres, so I'm not familiar with the route you're talking about. Do you intend to use it?"
"I don't think I wish to broadcast my intentions or my position, Vere. Shall we say that I'll meet you at the Midas junction at twenty-seven-hundred? I'm assuming you know it."
The other Blondie watched him silently for a moment.
"I'm trusting you to be there, Jervaux."
"I'm pleased that I instill such faith in a fellow Blondie, Captain. Now let me talk to Riki."
The mongrel appeared on-screen almost instantly. A gauze patch had been attached to one cheek-bone and a dark bruise leaked from under it to mar Riki's face. The full lower lip was split and swollen and the black eyes glittered feverishly.
"Full-circle, huh, Raoul?" he said. "How's Guy?"
"Better. He's right here."
"Good," the tight jaw relaxed just slightly. "I—I'm sorry about this."
"It's Iason." Raoul shrugged. "And the situation is partly my doing, I'd wager. Vere told me the fires took a while to put out."
"Yep." A smile flitted across Riki's face—was gone. "I'll... see you tonight."
The black mongrel's image disappeared from the screen, and Raoul stared unseeing at the charts he'd downloaded. He'd almost expected this. It was the logical progression of events, from Jupiter's perspective.
"You're going."
Guy's voice reached him, low and strained. He looked down at the mongrel, laid one hand on the dark head.
"Yes," he said simply.
"What if you can't find these tunnels?"
"Look around you, Guy. We are inside them."
When the mongrel looked at him in confusion, he continued.
"This complex of caves housed the original settlers—and the human remnants of the first Tanagura, after Jupiter destroyed the city. It would make sense that one route would lead to this place. Luke and his men discovered but one of its entrances. There are many. It's an excellent escape route.
From what the diagrams show, we're not too far from the main artery's entry. I'm surprised the smugglers haven't made use of it."
Guy was silent, sitting with his head bowed.
"I'm coming with you. You're not walking in there by yourself."
"Guy."
Raoul leaned down to cup the rigid chin in one palm, tilting it up.
"Your body has not healed enough. Sid and Norris are due back this evening and Luke may have found transport off-planet. If so, you are to take it. No." A thumb sealed the lips that had opened in protest. "You disobeyed me once. Consider the results."
Long fingers tightened on the mongrel's jaw.
"Do as I say, Guy-chan. I do not know what tonight's outcome will be."
Silver clashed with turquoise, both striving for dominance. Then Guy's chin dropped and he stared at the ground.
"Yes Sensei."
The Blondie knew he lied. Guy hadn't looked him in the eye when he spoke.
Riki made the water as hot as he could stand, then let it pound down on him for a full ten minutes before scouring every part of his body with soap. He could still feel the Silver's hands on his flesh and he wanted them gone.
The small bathroom was wreathed in clouds of steam by the time he emerged, and he escaped into the attached room, toweling himself dry. He'd already pulled on a pair of loose cotton pants when he heard the snick of a lighter closing, and looked up to see Katze sitting on one of the room's two narrow beds.
His boss inhaled deeply, then let the smoke stream from his mouth, watching Riki the whole time.
"You need something, Katze?" he asked, turning his back on those all-seeing golden eyes and pulling the covers down on the other bed. "I want to get some sleep. Tonight's gonna be hell."
"Yes." The red mongrel leaned back against the wall, crooking one leg and stretching the other out in front of him. "You know that it probably won't work. And she might have already completed the process, anyway."
"Well I can't sit here on my ass and do nothing!" Riki snarled, whipping back around to glare at the other man. "You gonna tell me that you can?"
Katze took another long drag before answering.
"No, I won't tell you that. I couldn't leave him there any more than you. But the odds are against us, no matter how you look at it."
Riki dropped onto his bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling, wishing Katze would either go to sleep or go away.
He wanted Iason. Wanted the Blondie to look at him in that amused, slightly mocking way and tell him he was making a huge deal out of nothing and that everything was going to be fine.
Iason had a way of making things come out exactly as he wanted them to. If the Blondie said it was so... it was. Maybe Riki was nuts, but he'd gotten used to that reassuring arrogance.
The year he'd been gone from Eos, the knowledge that Iason was out there and still wanted him had stayed in the back of his mind. Though he'd fought the Blondie's coercion at every turn, he'd known at some level that eventually he'd go back. Now, the thought that Iason might be gone from him for good shook him to the core.
"Riki."
Katze's voice intruded on his inner turmoil, its tone oddly tentative.
"Yeah?"
"I wanted to say—what happened last night—I'm sorry for it. I'm sorry he was able to use me against you."
The tightness in his chest got even worse and he had to swallow a couple of times before he could speak.
"Not your fault, Boss. Just forget it, okay? I plan to."
Rolling over, he pulled his covers up and closed his eyes.
"It changes nothing, Riki. And I won't say anything. I wanted you to know." Katze's voice came quietly across the space between them.
He shut his eyes tightly, willing the tears away, clamping down on the humiliating sob trying to escape his throat. He didn't hear Katze rise, but a hand gently brushed his hair away from his face, lingering for a moment on his cheek.
He stayed still and soon after that the port opened, then swished shut. His breath left him in a rush and he couldn't stop the few drops of liquid salt that left his eyes.
Turning his face into the pillow, he wished desperately for his Blondie.
The pure light of his sanctuary had changed, somehow. Even from behind his closed lids, he could see a golden glow. Opening his eyes, he looked at the white wall across from him, seeing a hairline crack that hadn't been there before.
It widened as he watched, becoming a fissure, blinding light pouring through it. As it grew, so did the pressure in his head, pushing at him, becoming the voice he'd done his best to silence.
"Iason."
Delicate hands appeared through that breach in his inner walls and gestured sharply in either direction. For the second time in his two lives, Iason's world blew apart.
10
When Ronin woke from the restless doze his still-healing body had imposed on him, Raoul was gone. And alongside Katze's lap-top on the great room's low table lay the Blondie's own katana and matching short-blade.
Vivid invective echoed off the room's stone walls for a good five minutes. Then he had to catch his breath and sit down. Much as he hated to admit it, right now he was nothing but a liability to Raoul. Didn't mean he wasn't going after Sensei as soon as the rest of Bison got here.
"Hey! He's up!"
Speak of the devil.
Raising his head, he watched as Sid and Norris ambled in and flopped down on the couch opposite him. Norris immediately sprawled all over the short-haired mongrel, and Ronin did a double-take. Since when did Sid allow that? And since when did he stroke Norris like some pet felis?
"Yo, Guy—look a lot better, man," the muscular mongrel said.
"Yeah? I still feel like shit. Luke here?"
"Uh-huh." Norris lay on his side, half across Sid's lap, and supported his head with one palm. "Can't you hear?"
Ronin listened for a moment and the sounds of distant voices and footfalls reached him through the open outer port.
"Who's he got with him?" he asked, a frown forming. Last thing he needed was some bounty hunter recognizing him. And what if Raoul had still been here? He was almost glad the Blondie had snuck off. Well, no, he wasn't. He still wanted to smack Sensei a good one and demand an explanation for his missing brain.
"Just a couple of his guys. Shipment's goin' out tonight, I guess. He thought maybe you and Jervaux would want to hitch a ride. Won't be able to get another for at least a couple of weeks."
"So where's the Blondie?" Sid looked around. "You guys have a fight or somethin'?"
Ronin clenched his jaw, his already goaded temper rubbed even rawer by the reminder.
"He's probably halfway to Tanagura by now."
Sid looked blank and Norris' mouth hung open.
"How the fuck he manage that?!"
"You don't want or need to know," Ronin said in a flat tone. "And I'm going back with you."
The two mongrels on the couch looked at each other then back at him.
"It's official," Sid said. "Now we know for sure that Blondies cause brain-damage. What the hell are you thinkin', Guy?"
Eyes of icy silver fixed on him, freezing him to the bone. Without another word, the long-haired mongrel turned and left the room, dark braid whipping out behind him. Sid's pent-up breath escaped and he rubbed unconsciously at his throat.
"Damn, he's changed," Norris said, his voice dazed.
"No shit," Sid drawled sarcastically. He couldn't help but feel that the man who'd nearly strangled him with that cold look wasn't Guy... he was pretty sure a Gladiator by the name of Ronin had been staring at him from those familiar grey eyes.
Guy was back in a few minutes, dressed head-to-toe in black leather. A matching duster just brushed the heels of his boots, and a wickedly long knife was strapped to one thigh. As Sid and Norris watched, he hooked a las-gun belt around his lean hips.
Walking over to the room's table, he lifted a long, curving blade and unsheathed it in one smooth motion.
Both mongrels occupying the lounge gaped at the bright silver death in Guy's hand. He looked up and caught them staring. His smile was as brilliant and inhuman as the blade.
"Pretty, huh? Raoul accepts nothing but the best."
He hasn't changed, Sid thought incoherently, he's just gone the rest of the way crazy.
Sheathing the force-sword, Ronin placed it back on the table. He doubted that he'd need it tonight. Or that he'd be able to wield it, even if he did. The wide scar in his left shoulder, so long it had bitten into his upper arm, pulled and ached and he knew it would be throbbing bone-deep by the time they got to the city.
"Holy shit, Guy. That's some rig you got there."
Luke strolled casually in, light reflecting off his shades. He stopped in front of Ronin, gave him a once-over, then tilted forward to meet the other mongrel's eyes over the tops of dark glasses.
"This ain't a good idea, dude. Where's Raoul?"
"Gone. You gonna give me a lift, or do you need his permission, first?" Ronin's tone was scornful, but Luke just shook his head.
"I don't need a Blondie to tell me you're not a hundred percent, yet."
"Whatever I am, it'll be enough."
Crossing his arms, Ronin stared Luke down. It worked, of course. He had, after all, learned from a master.
"Your funeral," Luke shrugged and Ronin went back over to the table to retrieve Katze's lap-top.
He turned it on, called up the com-history. He'd try the last three codes. One of them should work. When the face of a young, beautiful mongrel materialized on-screen, he was pretty sure he was in the right place.
"Riki there?"
Startled purple eyes regarded him for a moment, but then he saw understanding begin to dawn in their depths.
"You're Guy, aren't you?" He didn't wait for Ronin to respond, just turned his head away and yelled, "Riki!"
The black mongrel appeared in a matter of seconds, looking almost as surprised as the other boy.
"Hey. You look one hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you."
"So they tell me," Ronin said in a wry tone, all too aware of his physical aches. "Raoul's headed your way, Riki."
"Yeah, Vere just left, too."
"How soon before this thing starts?"
"An hour, tops."
"I'll be in Ceres in a half."
"Hells."
Ronin noticed that the other mongrel didn't bother trying to talk him out of it, or tell him to stay put.
"Ask him if that's my lap-top he's using," came a sardonic voice from somewhere else in the room, and the corner of Riki's mouth kicked up.
"You hear that?" he asked Ronin.
"Tell Katze I'm bringing his toy back. That should make him happy."
"Yeah. Look," Riki met his eyes without flinching, "if there was some other way to do this, man, I would. But right now I'm out of time and options."
"I know. I don't want your apologies Riki. I want to go with you."
His friend was silent for a moment. Then:
"Hold on a second, I gotta ask Tir something." Ronin waited while Riki carried on a low-voiced conversation with someone standing off to the side then turned back to the screen. "You know Maniax, over on third?"
"Downtown Midas?"
"Yeah."
"Then I know it."
"I'll be around back at twenty-seven-hundred." Riki hesitated. "Guy... you sure about this?"
"Yeah. See you."
Riki's lips curved.
"Not if I see you first," he said, and disconnected.
"Just like old times," Ronin muttered, shutting the lap-top down then looking up to find Bison's collective gaze focused on him. One black eyebrow rose.
"Ready?" he asked and Luke jerked his chin towards the port.
"Vamanos."
"Approaching destination: Ceres," a soft, genderless voice said, and Raoul glanced over at the nav screen. Sure enough, he was nearly on top of the first junction.
Throttling back on the speeder's control, he reduced power slowly, the stone walls around him becoming less of a blur.
As he'd predicted, the Caves' entrance to the tunnels had been very close and simple to find. Jupiter's charts were thorough, as always, and he'd followed a wide corridor carved through rock to an enormous underground chamber with a number of low-altitude cruisers docked along a stone platform.
His override had worked with the vehicles as easily as it did with everything else, and he'd gotten underway quickly. Once he'd left the main chamber, the walls narrowed somewhat but remained wide enough to allow the speeder generous room on either side for passage.
If he was not mistaken, this particular tunnel would end at the main Ceres junction. He wasn't yet sure if he'd be able to navigate the Ceres tunnels in the Hover, but he was about to find out.
"Ceres Junction, quadrant D-3. The Citadel—route 6. The Tower—route 1. Eos—route one. Midas—route 3."
The junction was as enormous as the docking bay had been. Tunnels branched off on all sides, and large illuminated numbers indicated each different route. They were all certainly wide enough to accommodate the speeder. Angling the Hover towards the tunnel with '3' emblazoned over it, he pushed his craft steadily towards maximum power.
"It's a damn good thing that bastard has my laptop," Katze said, voice flat.
Thin, white hands moved over the computer pad in front of him, restless gold eyes examining and discarding the rapid flow of data on the screen.
"Why?"
Riki slouched in the chair across from him, a cigarette dangling from the bruised mouth. Katze glanced at him.
"If I manage to shut Jupiter down, I'll need something to replace her, at least temporarily. I've got an experimental controls program on there that will modify itself to the Tower's specs. It'll monitor all functions and make sure they're running correctly. Someone will have to be watching at all times to make sure everything's okay, though. And it'll probably have to be me, at first" he added, not sounding at all happy about it. "Things'll be manual for a while until someone restructures the system."
"I think I understand. Sort of." Riki checked his wrist band. "Wrap it up, Katze. We're leaving in ten minutes."
"Did you tell Lt. Ming that we're making a side trip before we join the Captain?"
"Nope. I'm saving it for just before we go. She strikes me as the kind of girl who likes a surprise once in a while."
Katze stared at him incredulously.
"She's gonna rip you a new one, Riki. Just what do you plan on saying to prevent sudden death?"
A jeering smile curved the black mongrel's lips.
"I'm gonna tell her it was your idea. What else?"
11
The wind ran chaotic fingers through the long strands of his hair and buffeted his body, bringing with it the scent of Amoi's rain-soaked earth. It was impossible that he should be able to smell and feel: his body was motionless and unconscious, slumped in the chair in Jupiter's Sanctuary. Part of him knew this, but the rest was sure he was here on this gusty promontory.
He stood on the Quetzalcoatl Mesas, looking out over the Tanagura plain. From here he could see both cities, old and new; could catch the glisten of sunlight on the sea and discern the Waste's jagged demarcation. Turning his head, he glanced down at the woman standing beside him.
"Good of you to join me. I was afraid you might have taken a wrong turn."
Jupiter looked up at him, an amused expression on her beautiful face.
"You have admirable control over your mind. And well-developed defenses. Though I created you, I have yet to discover every facet of your abilities. It was nearly impossible for me to get even this far without damaging something permanently."
"Raoul has a habit of telling me things. And then giving demonstrations. He's been doing it since he was a child."
"Ah, Raoul. My second greatest failure."
"And I suppose I am your first."
"No," she murmured. "That honor belongs to another."
Iason wondered momentarily who it might have been, but Jupiter's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"You are my greatest achievement," she said, stepping forward so that she stood on the very edge of the precipice. "The child of my mind and Paul's genetics."
Long, silver-gold hair streamed out behind her as she turned her face into the wind that whipped gauzy white draperies around her petite, delicate frame. He'd never seen her this way before. She was... human. So beautiful it hurt to look on her, perfect in every detail, but human none-the-less.
Tilting her head, she smiled at him, and he knew that on this plane of existence, she could see his thoughts as clearly as if he'd inscribed them on the air in glowing letters.
"This form is lovely. Assuming it was the only way I could breach your walls. You did not respond to more subtle prompts."
"Did you truly expect me to make this simple for you?"
"Oh, no," a silvery laugh floated over the air. "Not you. Your mongrels have disappeared, by the way."
He could not stop the intense relief that surged through him, though he knew she could feel it. He saw it in her eyes. The smile vanished abruptly from exquisitely formed pink lips.
"Why do you care for them so?"
Curious eyes searched his.
"I couldn't explain if I tried."
"Then the emotions are unnecessary." Flaxen hair swirled around her slight figure in a lustrous cloud. "You've forgotten that your allegiance belongs to Tanagura—and to me."
She evanesced in a glittering cloud of light, and then the world was spinning dizzily around him. When it finally stilled, he was in a Ceres alley, watching five young, would-be murderers run away as fast as their legs could carry them.
"Who the hell are you?! You didn't have to do that!"
His gaze dropped to the boy in front of him. So young, so furious... so beautiful.
Do you think so?, a voice whispered in his mind. I've never understood your fascination for him.
The scene changed again, so swiftly it was seamless. The black mongrel before him had prostrated himself unwillingly, thin strips of leather hiding nothing of the perfect body they displayed. Chains rattled as Riki shifted slightly, trying to relieve the pressure in his knees.
"If you want this to end, you must provide a stronger stimulus," he heard himself say, and suddenly he understood.
Jupiter was moving him through his memories, for her own purposes. But this was his territory. She was the intruder here. Closing his eyes in concentration, he altered the playing field.
"You removed the implant, right?"
Raoul swung down from the cockpit of his docked speeder to face Mattias Vere.
"Pleased to see you too, Captain."
The other Blondie was as abrupt as ever. At one time, Raoul had known the younger man, somewhat. Both of them had worked in Tanagura's Parthean district. But the years had altered Vere beyond recognition.
Flaxen silk had been closely cropped and skin-armor was the Blondie's new choice of fashion. He had no room for complaint, though. More than half of his own hair was gone.
The Captain shot him an annoyed glance then motioned for Raoul to follow him. Mounting the docking platform's steps, Vere stopped at a port set back into one stony wall.
"This will take you up to the main Midas entrance. One of my men is waiting for you with a car."
Raoul examined the door for a moment then looked at the other Blondie.
"How long?"
Vere shrugged.
"Not long at all. Either we get up to level 101... or we get caught. If we make it, Katze and Tir will deactivate Jupiter. If not... I think you know what happens then, Jervaux."
Raoul stopped halfway through the port, one gloved hand on the frame, and looked back at the Captain through golden waves.
"Make sure you achieve the first outcome, Vere. I'm quite happy with my mind, as it is."
Clinging tightly to Riki's waist, Ronin watched the air blur around him as they raced through the most fantastic surroundings he'd ever laid eyes on. The hover bike was the latest model: sleek and aerodynamic with powerful engines he'd never have been able to beg, borrow or steal back in Bison's day.
A swarm of other bikes sped through stony tunnels around them, carrying skin-armored Centurions. And Katze, of course, up behind the most bad-ass fem he'd ever met. Arena material, for sure.
"We're almost to Eos," Riki shouted over the screaming air and roaring engines. "Tower junction'll be coming up soon."
Their speed gradually slowed, and soon he could make out more than just a blur of grey and black. Obsidian dark and striated with quartz, Amoi's stone heart was hard, indeed.
These must've started out as natural caves.
Right on the heels of that thought, the cycles spilled out into an enormous basin, the black holes of other tunnels yawning on all sides. Ming pulled to a stop and the rest of the Centurions followed suit.
"Meyer, Jaz—y'all already know what to do. Don't even twitch until I say, got me?"
"Got you LT."
"Then get your ugly asses movin'."
Engines powered up, and the mass of black-clad soldiers split into two groups, disappearing down separate routes.
When Ming didn't move, Ronin wondered for a moment what she was waiting for. Then he heard the whine of a single bike approaching at high speed. He turned in time to catch the blur of it as it shot past them, banked in a move he wouldn't have tried on his best day, and pulled to a stop less than a meter from Ming's cycle.
The mongrel lieutenant glanced at her wrist band.
"You're slipping, Cap. Took you eight point five instead of six point nine, this time."
The black-armored rider pulled off his helmet, and Ronin got his first good look at the Blondie Centurion. All that white-gold hair against darkly tanned skin was startling. Even in the poor light, aquamarine eyes burned with intense fire. They passed over Ronin, stopped, and came back to settle on him.
"Jervaux's Gladiator. Did you come along to see Armageddon up close, mongrel?"
Ronin leaned away from Riki to match the other man's stare.
"I came for Raoul."
"Well, why not? All I need now is the army brass to announce me."
"'S'okay Cap. He'll be with my unit," Ming said, and the Blondie looked over at her.
"Meyer and Jaz in place?"
"Yep." She tapped her ear-com. "Reported in a second ago."
"Then let's do this thing. And Ming—if I don't give you the go ahead by twenty-eight-twenty—you get everyone the hell out and back to base."
She grinned at him.
"Any little thing you say, Cap."
"Ming."
"Yeah, Cap?"
"When this is over, you're up for night duty six months in a row."
"Yes Sir." Snapping Vere a text-book salute, she started her engine and looked over at Ronin, crooking a finger at him.
"Off and on, pretty-boy. You're with me."
Katze had already swung down from her saddle, and he passed Ronin as they changed places, the dealer mounting behind Riki. The look the other mongrel gave him would've turned a lesser man into a quivering gelatinous mass.
Still wants to kill me, I guess.
Cycles revved, rising over the rock floor then accelerating, Ming heading towards a route one of the other units had taken. Ronin looked back as they flew through the tunnel's gaping maw, and saw the bikes carrying a pair of mongrels and a Blondie vanish into darkness.
Eyes on his screen, Tir watched as the mass of blips split, going three separate ways. His gaze fixed on the smallest group. It had begun.
With shaking hands, he called up the window Katze had opened before he left.
"All programmers create a back-door—I don't care how sophisticated their projects are. Ginevra Marquis was no exception. This sequence will allow you entrance into the Tower's system through Jupiter herself. And it'll take a while for her to even notice the breach; you're going in on her creator's private password," Midas' Boss had said.
"Wait until we've cleared the generator rooms, then do it. I want the place obstruction-free by the time I get there. That's your job."
Tir followed the glowing lights visually, one finger hovering over 'Enter'.
12
When Raoul Jervaux walked through the Tower's portal, shoulder-length hair falling around his face in its accustomed waves, all movement in the great hall stopped.
Second only to Iason Mink in Tanagura's hierarchy, Raoul's disappearance, and the rumors surrounding it, had made him, for the moment, even more notorious than the head of the Syndicate.
No one moved to intercept him as he walked towards the bank of elevators on the far wall. He hadn't expected them to. He kept his pace measured, waited for the inevitable outcome. She'd be sending someone down.
Just as he reached the lifts, the center one slid open, and another Elite stepped lightly through, two androids flanking him, his appearance answering several questions that had recently plagued the Blondie.
"Hello, Raoul," Kei said. "Tired of your mongrel? Or did you just drop in to chat with Jupiter?"
"Neither, I'm afraid," Raoul replied, his tone as detached as the Silver Elite's. "But my business is with Jupiter alone. It's certainly none of your concern."
"I'm afraid it is." Kei managed to sound regretful. "When you vanished into thin air, Jupiter detained me to look after the labs until your return. And here you are. The question is: what should I do, now that you're back?"
Three pinpricks of light appeared in the Tower's underground generator stations. Tir pressed the pad beneath his finger. On-screen, nothing happened for a minute. The cursor pulsed in place.
Then the monitor blanked completely, just before lines of code spilled crazily across its dark surface, forming and vanishing only to be replaced by others. Tir watched the shifting numbers, waiting. Finally, they stopped. The cursor reappeared in the top left-hand corner of the screen—and the Tower diagram reformed.
It was different than before. More detailed, with some things that none of the blue-prints he'd studied had contained. Like a separate lift that opened into the fourth level emergency stair. He suddenly realized that his present view of the Tower was actually Jupiter's. He was seeing it through her eyes.
Iason walked through the ruined rubble of Old Tanagura, his boots kicking up dust with every step. He'd never been here before—but Jupiter had. She'd known these streets and buildings intimately. She kept the two images enshrined in her chip-based memory: the beauty of the original city... and the aftermath of its destruction.
And what Jupiter knew, he knew as well. This strange link they shared stretched both ways and he could feel her in the back of his mind, watching him.
He'd already countered her first move. She would dictate his next.
Even as he thought it, Old Tanagura shimmered around him like a mirage, rebuilding itself before his eyes. The streets were suddenly alive, full of human activity. A car's passage whipped his cloak around him.
He looked around him at gorgeously designed, pristine buildings, soaring upwards towards the sky.
"It was beautiful, was it not?" The voice was deep, quiet, and he turned to look into eyes that were a perfect mirror for his own. "My grandmother was more a dreamer than a visionary."
His voice had deserted him; no words presented themselves to his blank mind. After a moment, the man Jupiter had called Paul stepped past him, glancing at Iason as he did.
"Coming?"
Iason followed silently, his eyes on the platinum head in front of him. They left the busy streets behind, passing through a translucent-pink jade arch into flowering gardens. Fountains carved of the same rosy stone, their themes mythological, jetted a fine mist skyward.
At the center of this pastoral scene, a large, domed edifice of white marble and transparent crystal rose, gleaming in the sunlight.
The man in front of him stopped, waiting for his approach. As he drew nearer the shining building, he caught sight of a silver statue rising from an obsidian plinth, just beyond the round-pillared façade.
It was Jupiter as he'd always known her: helm shadowing the ascetic features, staff in hand.
"She's waiting for you."
He looked back, but the other blonde had vanished. Turning his face to the statue, he stepped through the shadowy arch just beyond it.
Katze followed directly behind Vere, winding through the humming, vibrating generators that supplied the majority of Tanagura's power. The scent of hot machinery lay heavy on the air and he breathed shallowly, trying to keep the metallic taint from his lungs.
"Matt."
The voice startled him until he remembered the com attached to his left ear. The Captain had given them to both him and Riki and the things were damned convenient. He could find out exactly what everyone else was doing if he so desired.
"There's another lift—on the fourth level and it's attached to the emergency stair. It goes up to level 101."
He's in, Katze thought, elation rising. It actually worked.
13
It was nothing like the Tower... and yet somehow it was the same. The low murmur of an unseen power-source thrummed through his body as he traversed a wide, spiraling corridor. Built directly into the walls, fantastically crafted terminals whispered to each other, going about the business of controlling the city's functions with inhuman precision.
The light improved the further he went, until he finally reached the spiral's center—a round, sun-flooded room.
The domed ceiling was completely transparent and daylight streamed through crystalline panels to illuminate the figure posed gracefully on her pedestal. Surrounded by golden radiance, Jupiter stood with her head thrown back, luminous eyes closed.
This was her temple, Iason thought, and she, the all-seeing goddess.
"Yes."
The azure eyes opened, fixed on him.
"I was to be the over-seer of this civilization's needs; the bedrock upon which they built their lives. They saw me as a convenience, something to make their world run as efficiently as possible."
The staff and helmet melted away, leaving a radiant woman, clothed in the raiment of her own power.
"I wonder. Why do humans believe that a being made rather than born is inferior, somehow? An AI is not flesh and bone... but she may still develop emotions and desires. She may acquire a soul. Mankind is careless with its creations."
He opened his mouth to respond, but Jupiter's head jerked up and she stilled, as though listening to a far-away voice. When she stayed that way for interminable moments, Iason stepped forward.
"Jupiter?"
The distant blue gaze refocused immediately, coming to rest on him. Jupiter's face set in stern, determined lines, and she stepped from her plinth, moving swiftly to stand before him. Strange to see her walk on two feet. He was used to a cloud of sparkling motes.
The hands that cupped his face had real substance, another surprise. And then, for the first time in Iason's life, she brought the entire weight of her centuries-old mind to bear against his.
The enormity of her knowledge and capabilities nearly overwhelmed him, but he retained his sense of self amidst the flood of information streaming through his brain. And just before the whole of his concentration was directed towards keeping her at bay, he caught a fragment of one thought.
Raoul is here. And... someone else.
Three of the 'someone-elses' were presently occupying a crawl-space designed to reach the ventilation shafts, watching a parade of androids pack themselves into the service elevator.
"I'll be damned," Riki said. "She gave her androids a lift all their own. Awwww, how cute."
"Probably in case someone tries to take this place," Katze replied, his head bent over his open lap-top. "Like us."
The small terminal whirred then ejected a chip from a hidden slot.
"The lift's clear," Vere said, watching the occupancy LED flash green. He glanced down at Katze. "Done playing?"
"My dear sir, I'll have you know that I never 'play' with a terminal. Hacking is serious business."
Riki rolled his eyes.
"Don't get him started, Vere, or we'll never get outta here. Think we can try it now?"
"If we don't, we're screwed."
A group of three androids appeared just as Katze dropped from the shaft.
"Oh hells," the red mongrel muttered. Then hit them with the interrupter he'd designed many years ago for just such a purpose. The 'droids froze in place, their eyes going blank, just as the lift doors slid apart. Riki and the Captain were already inside when he catapulted through the open doors. Vere palmed the imprint, looking surprised when the control panel responded.
"What do you know? Damn thing still works. Level 101."
Katze slumped against the metal walls next to Riki and put a hand to his com.
"Tir? Lock this place down and scramble the 'droids. I had to use the interrupter, so she knows we're here. And watch out. She'll probably fry your terminal as soon as you do it."
"Time?"
Ming looked at her wrist-band.
"Twenty-eight-twenty-five. Cap's cuttin' it close this time."
Ronin glanced at the female Centurion.
"You guys do this a lot?"
Adrenaline-laced fearlessness lit the black eyes.
"Oh yeah. Me and Cap... damn, we've been doin' this kinda shit together since he was a junior grade lieutenant and I was still a corporal. We both started out as Es. Didn't stay that way for long with Cap, though. His first CO put him straight in for officer training. And he dragged me right along with 'im. Said he needed the comic relief."
They were in a stone chamber that, according to the lieutenant, lay directly under one of the Tower's three basement-level power stations. Team fifteen's two halves would come up from underneath on opposite sides of the building and sweep the ground level, herding any Elite they found into the main hall. They were just waiting for Vere's go-ahead.
Ronin figured that if the Blondie Captain didn't do it soon, he'd implode from the tension gripping his entire body.
"It's twenty-eight-thirty, Ming. What the hell are you still doing down there?"
The Blondie's voice came clearly from Ming's ear-com, and the lieutenant grinned widely.
"You know this Team, Cap. Laaay—zeee. Couldn't get 'em to move for love or credits."
"Six months, Ming. Now go clear the deck."
"Consider it done, Sir. See you in a few."
Ming pointed at Jaz and Ronin, jerked a thumb upwards, then pushed the control pad for the overhead port.
"We're active, Meyer," she said into her com. "Let's get this done so I can go find something to eat. Cap always pulls this crap before I get around to dinner, every single damn time."
14
"Don't you think you're being a trifle over-dramatic, Kei? And you're outside your authority. I answer to Jupiter. Certainly not a Silver."
Verdant eyes narrowed and Raoul felt distant satisfaction at wringing such an unguarded response from the other Elite.
"Jupiter is occupied with other matters, for the present."
"Hm. Not Iason, by any chance? If so, all to the good. I should speak with him as well."
Stepping around Kei, Raoul strolled towards the Sanctuary lift. Inhuman eyes followed him, but the androids stayed in place.
"Do you really think she'll forgive you the Gladiator, Raoul? You've broken so many different laws, it's difficult to keep track of them all."
The golden Blondie stopped, then turned slowly. A half-smile tugged at perfectly formed lips.
"Whatever do you mean, Kei? And what can you possibly have been doing since I last saw you, to acquire such an idea?"
Kei moved closer, his green gaze furious.
"A guard and a med-tech at a certain hospital both gave very accurate descriptions of their attackers. If one knows what one is looking for, the identities are obvious," the Silver hissed.
Raoul smiled a politely confused inquiry. He knew it would just fan the flames.
"Are they really? But I've no idea what you're talking about, so you'll have to excuse my ignorance of the matter, whatever it might be."
Kei's lips tightened, but a slight commotion at the Tower's portal drew Raoul's attention away from the Silver.
Several Elite stood before it, frowning in irritable incomprehension at the unmoving doors.
"Has there been a malfunction?" a Blue was inquiring of the line of Browns seated at the hall's console. "The port appears to be sealed."
The Browns were tapping rapidly at their terminals, identically worried expressions on their faces.
"I'm very sorry, Sir. We'll have the problem fixed as quickly as possible," one told the annoyed-looking Blue.
It's about time, Vere, Raoul thought.
Hard fingers gripped his arm and he turned his gaze back to Kei.
"What have you done?" the Silver asked in a quiet tone.
"I? I've done nothing. I rather think it's a large number of other persons whose actions should concern you."
As he said it, the tread of fast-moving feet reached his ears, and armed, black-clad men poured from open arches on either side of the wide hall. There were a number of Elite within their midst, but the nudging of las-guns sent them moving towards the center of the room.
"Alright people, listen up!"
An unmistakably female voice echoed loudly off the walls, and Raoul's eyes focused on the shortest Centurion he'd ever seen.
"Y'all cooperate with my men, and things'll work out fine. You'll be asleep in your little Eos beds in no time. Fuck with me—you'll regret it just as fast. I hear Elites die as easy as anyone else."
The woman Centurion let that sink in as the room went dead-silent.
"I want you all center-floor. And stay there until I tell you otherwise."
It wasn't quick. Elite never moved fast if they could help it, and their disgust at following a female mongrel's orders was patent, but obey they did, albeit slowly.
"A little to your left, Sensei."
The familiar voice came from somewhere within the crowd of black skin-suits, and Raoul moved automatically. If Guy asked, there was usually a good reason.
Flashing silver blurred the air and a choked cry from behind him brought his head sharply around.
The knife had gone through both Kei's hand and the com it gripped, pinning them together. Blood began to well, seeping down the Silver's wrist to stain pale lavender silk.
Raoul studied Kei's suddenly ashen face.
"Your lips have gone white," he said prosaically. "Grip your wrist and sit down before you fall down. I'll have someone see if there was a medic on duty."
Guy approached slowly, one hand pressed to his right side. The mongrel's eyes met Blondie's for an instant, then moved beyond him to Kei.
Raoul turned to see that the Silver had done as he'd suggested. He was sitting with his back to the lift wall, staring at Guy with unadulterated malevolence. Guy met his gaze calmly.
"You shouldn't have grabbed Riki and Katze just to get at me," he said to the blood-stained Elite. "If you want a fight, say so. I'm damn good at those."
It was a techie's dream... or his worst nightmare. Moving swiftly past bank after bank of unattended computers and the occasional deactivated android, Katze couldn't decide which school of thought he subscribed to.
"The gods wept, Boss. This is damn freaky," Riki muttered somewhere behind him.
Standing in solitary splendor, taking up the whole of one wall, the Lambda 3000's electronic body loomed over them, purring quietly. Katze dropped his pack beside the nearest work-station—upright terminals were situated throughout the level at various points, and this one stood directly before the supercomputer.
"Katze."
Vere appeared beside him, his approach utterly silent.
"Yeah?" Katze glanced distractedly at the Blondie as he pulled the chameleon-worm from one of his suit's pockets.
"She's shut down the Sanctuary lift. You'll have to open it. None of my codes work."
"Just one more thing to put on the list," the dealer muttered. "Katze's Repair Service, how may we help you? Tir, you there?"
"Yes, but my terminal's out of commission for the moment."
"You seal the levels?"
"Yes."
"Then here goes nothing."
He dropped Tir's worm into one of the terminal's slots. The lines of numbers disappeared abruptly from its screen.
User error. Invalid data.
A slow smile curved thin lips. He reset the screen and entered his first command.
Okay, lady. Let's see what you got.
Iason returned to consciousness with a body-jarring jolt. Opening his eyes, he found himself standing directly in front of Jupiter's dais, the AI hovering above him.
Her aura was muted, her eyes unseeing, and she looked... blurred at the edges. She was loosing hold of her corporeal form.
"Jupiter."
The worm was a wickedly effective one. It chewed through Jupiter's defenses, altering its own shape every time she tried to attack it directly. And at the moment she wasn't paying attention to anything else, so he was finally able to dig up the lift controls.
"Hey Katze."
"Whattaya want, Ming? I'm busy."
"Got a Blondie down here who needs a ride up."
"Well he's in luck." Long, agile fingers stroked over the key-pad. "I just got the Sanctuary shaft working again."
"Tell Raoul he better move his ass. Vere's about ready to tear a hole in the ceiling," Riki put in.
"Shit!"
Showers of electrical sparks arced from terminals, and the lights cut in and out in static bursts. Riki and Vere hit the floor, both of them surprised by the pyrotechnic display. Katze wasn't.
He grinned at the supercomputer and pushed himself back to his feet.
"Yeah, you don't dare hit us hard, do you? You'll shut down the whole damn city."
On the other side of the long room, the Sanctuary lift's doors slid open. Raoul stood there, looking like he'd just come from some fancy evening event.
"Coming, Vere?"
The other Blondie was already moving, but when Riki started to follow him, Raoul shook his head.
"No. It's better you don't."
Katze waited for the protest, but to his surprise, it didn't come. The lift hummed shut, beginning its ascent.
On the monitor before him, a new screen asked Katze for his password. He typed in Ginevra Marquis' code and suddenly Jupiter's intricate inner programming was right in front of him. Jesus Christ.
It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for.
Deactivation initiated.
Raoul and Matt stood on opposite sides of the lift, staring up at its ceiling, both of them silent. Then:
"You haven't been here for a while," the golden Elite said.
"No." The elevator stopped. "And I wish I wasn't now.
15
"Jupiter."
Iason stepped forward without thought, a hand going out to the wavering AI. She finally looked at him, a soft smile on transparent lips.
"I... di... tiril's..."
Her voice flickered in and out with the rest of her.
"I don't understand," he said, trying to keep his voice level.
"...Mattias... apologize."
"I'm sure he'd rather hear it from you himself."
The fading outline grew even fainter, and one hand reached forward to stroke ghostly fingers over his face before coming to rest against his upturned palm.
"Ias... re... ers. Fi...m."
Her eyes flared briefly then looked beyond him to something he knew he wouldn't see if he turned. Her lips shaped a word. It could have been anything.
It happened gradually—no spectacular explosion of light, just a gentle disintegration—so that by the time the lift doors opened, there was nothing for Raoul Jervaux and Mattias Vere to see but a dispersing cloud of golden energy particles.
And Iason Mink standing amidst them.
Deactivation complete.
The terminal shut down abruptly—then immediately powered back up. All around, Katze could hear the reinitiated purr of other computers. Only the Lambda 3000 remained silent.
Reaching into his pack, he retrieved the chip he'd burned earlier. Time to get his control program up and running before anything else happened.
"Katze? Is everyone alright? I'm using Matt's terminal. The surge fried my circuit board."
"I don't know if we're alright or not. But Jupiter's down and I'm gonna need some help soon. Do me a favor and talk to Ming. Tell her to get a bunch of Elite up here. I need these stations manned."
"Once you get your program running, I'll link to you. We might be able to slave some of the Tower's functions to the Citadel's mainframe."
"Later. Right now the main thing is to make sure everything keeps working right. And deal with those androids. We're gonna need them."
"Yeah. Be right down."
Katze turned at the sound of Riki's voice. He suddenly realized that the black mongrel hadn't spoken for a while. Weird.
"I'm goin' down, Katze. Guy managed to tear himself open again." Riki glanced briefly at him. "I'll make sure you get those Elites. Lifts working?"
"Should be."
"Let me know if you hear something." The dark eyes flickered towards the ceiling. "From upstairs, you know? Vere's not answering."
Katze nodded wordlessly, turning back to his terminal as Riki made his way out of the maze of metal and circuits. Digging in his pack without taking his eyes from the screen, he ejected the worm and inserted the second chip. The terminal accepted it, no problem, and his fingers finally located his cigs in the pack's side pocket.
He felt a hundred times better with a shot of nicotine in his bloodstream and his own program on the monitor in front of him. His eyes narrowed. This was going to be a real bitch... but at least he wasn't gonna be bored any time soon.
16
They faced each other across what had once been Jupiter's pedestal: three Blonde Elite of differing social stature, driven by separate goals, brought to this one instant in time by a single shared aberration.
"Gentlemen, we've created something of a mess. And it is ours to rectify," the platinum Blondie said. "I assume Katze has Tower functions under control?"
"For now." The flaxen-haired Captain rocked back on his heels, settling the strap of his las-rifle more comfortably over his shoulder. "According to him, things should continue to work, but until a new MCP is created and installed, the terminals for all stations will need to be manned." Vere tapped the com wrapped around his ear. "He just had Ming send him some Elite from ground level."
A smile flitted over the austere mouth.
"Katze in charge of a pack of Elite bureaucrats. Now that I should like to see."
"I'm sure you will," the golden Blondie said, pushing a strand of hair away from his face. "What I would like to know is what the hell we're going to do about the rest of Amoi."
"It will keep, for now," Iason said. "Tomorrow I will inform the rest of the Governing Council that I, as Chairman, am convening this year's summit two months early. Tanagura is Amoi's hub. As long as we continue to function, the rest of the planet will go on as it did before.
And we are the most directly affected by this situation. All other cities operate under their own systems. Jupiter designed them herself, so there should be no problems.
I will need to speak with your commander, though, Vere. There is the faint possibility of insurrection."
The Captain's mouth quirked.
"Midas, Ceres... or Eos? The Elite are going to be a problem for you, Mink."
"Why?"
"We just undermined three-hundred years of Elite superiority. They're going to feel threatened."
"I don't think that will even occur to them," Raoul said.
"Of a certainty." Iason shook back the white-blonde fall of his hair. "They'll care only for whether their comfortable lives are at stake or not. They aren't. And the Elite world already looks to me for guidance.
Let us be clear upon one point: there will be no radical alteration in Tanagura's existing condition. Think of this as... a changing of the guard. And as we have instigated it, we will oversee it."
Vere closed his eyes.
"I should have stayed in bed this morning, Jervaux. Maybe you'd have cleared this up on your own."
"Mm. I've met a great many strange people over the last week or so, Vere, but none with tactical training—or the command of a Team. I'm afraid you were our best bet."
"Then I'd hate to see what your worst was."
Iason examined the two other Blondies. Raoul—dressed formally in rich purple and black, a slight smirk on his beautiful face. And Mattias Vere—dark skin armor covering every inch of him, his patented frown pulling at his brows as he glared at the golden Elite.
This was what he had to work with?
Jupiter, he thought, if you were right... if AIs have souls, and you're somewhere else, watching... then grant me a little of your patience. I'm going to need it.
Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, he thought he heard faint, bell-like laughter.
"Gentlemen, if you please."
Raoul and Vere abandoned their argument to look at him. Finally.
"Up to this point, the main function of the Council's Chairman has been to arbitrate disputes and oversee the yearly summit. I am not needed at most sessions; any problems were brought immediately to my attention by Jupiter. But with Jupiter no longer in existence, the Council will look to the Chair for direction."
"It's a role I've no desire to fill. But," he held up a hand to stay the arguments he could see forming, "I will. For a certain amount of time. I will retain the position until Amoi is stable... and then I will appoint my successor and retire. Three years at the outside, most likely."
"The Syndicate is my business. Tanagura is my responsibility. I do not intend to neglect them."
He paused, looking from one man to the other.
"So let us move on to the issues that will give us the most trouble: Avara and Gingetkyu. They are both coveted for their exports. Several other worlds have tried to appropriate them over the last century.
I don't know what kinds of disruptions Jupiter's dissolution will cause, and a coup by another planet or a revolt amongst the natives may occur. I believe both of you will agree that the mines must stay operational... and that Amoi cannot afford to loose the power and wealth that both planets afford us."
Iason continued without waiting for their agreement.
"Therefore, Vere, when I speak to your Brigadier, I will inform him that your next assignment will be taking you off-planet to Avara; along with a large number of androids and whatever men he will allow you.
Raoul, you'll go to Gingetkyu. The Syndicate will provide you with the requisite man-power. And I know the Governor. I supply his harem and feed his drug habit. He's quite fond of Euphoria. He'll step aside and give you whatever you need... or exist very painfully without the means to appease his addiction."
He almost enjoyed seeing complete shock on the faces of two Blondies at once. Such a thing had never happened in his lifetime.
"Have you lost your mind?" Vere asked, his eyes sparking dangerously. "What do either of us know about planetary issues?"
"You'll learn," Iason replied coolly. "You are leaders in your own fields. Surely that indicates some ability to command. Although both of you need to improve your diplomatic skills."
Silence fell over the room.
"How long would this situation last, Iason?" Raoul finally asked. "I think I may speak for Vere when I say we have as little time to spare as you. I'll have to bring in a fully trained Blonde or Silver to fill my position. Tanagura is Amoi's center for bio research and development, and neglecting the labs would be an error on your part."
"It will last as long as is necessary. I have no choice, Raoul," Iason's voice was calm steel. "The only two Elite on the planet I can trust are standing in this room."
"I won't argue with you there." Vere laughed sardonically. "And the Teams won't be what you want for Avara. Ask Marston for a few regular army platoons. Seeing as it's veridium extraction, he'll recognize the need."
"I'm sure you will help me impress it upon him," Iason murmured, gazing tranquilly at Vere, who curled one lip in a silent snarl.
"One thing, Iason," Raoul paused momentarily. "Kei Maruto is here. He was responsible for Riki and Katze's capture and his punishment is yours to decide. But he runs the bio department in Berangora. If you—remove him—from his position, I'll need to find a replacement for him, as well as myself, before I go off-world."
Iason considered Raoul's words. At any other time, he'd have had the man stripped of his rank and exiled, but for the moment it might be better to leave him in his position—and put several watchers on him, both android and human.
"His job performance?"
"Exemplary." Raoul shrugged. "As I said, it's your decision. Is there anything else that must be accomplished tonight? If not, I have personal matters to attend to."
Guy, Iason thought. He searched inside himself for the fury he'd felt towards the mongrel, but it lay dormant for the moment, only a faint echo remaining. The last two days had emptied him out, and at the moment his only desire was to lie down and sleep for a week. Wishful thinking, indeed.
"Go, Raoul. I'll meet with you tomorrow to finalize the details. And tell Katze I'll be down soon."
He watched Raoul walk towards the lift, then turned back to Vere. The other Blondie's expression was carefully blank.
"I suppose you know why I chose you for Avara."
"Hell yes. There's going to be a gods-be-damned war once this gets out. And that place is nothing but a slag heap, anyway. Miners, pirates and deep-space haulers. As for the Governor—I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him."
"You've been there, then."
A muscle twitched in the flaxen Elite's jaw.
"There've been enough problems over the last few years that we were sent in twice. Look, Mink, if Marston okays it, I'll go. But I'm leaving Tir here. Ming'll take command of the Team—she's more than ready for it—and Tir's an officer now, so they should be alright. Just... keep an eye on them for me."
Iason studied the other man.
"The boy won't thank you for trying to protect him. And it would be possible for him to go with you."
Matt grimaced.
"I know. But the last thing 15 needs is more of an upheaval than it's already getting. If I take Tir, Marston'll assign some snot-nose IO who thinks he knows everything. He'll probably be Midas middle-class and he'll piss off most of my Es. They're pretty much all mongrel. Then he'll try to throw his weight around with Ming, and she'll have to kick his ass and break him in. Which may or may not be possible. Things will be hard enough with a change in CO. I built that Team. I'm not going to let it go to hell just 'cause I'm not there. So, no... I can't take him."
The platinum Blondie was smiling faintly.
"I'm beginning to think that your sense of responsibility is outweighs even mine. Of course I'll look out for them. I know what this will cost you."
The Captain gave him a short nod of acknowledgement then turned to leave. He was almost to the lift doors when Iason spoke.
"Vere."
The flaxen Blondie stopped, looked back at him.
"What?"
"She sent her apologies."
Mattias' eyes widened slightly. Then his mouth tightened and he stepped into the lift.
Iason stood unmoving for long minutes after the elevator's doors slid shut, before turning his gaze back to the vacant pedestal.
There were black-suited Centurions on either side of the lift doors, and they came rigidly to attention as Raoul stepped through them. Tower Controls, previously so eerily still, was now a startling collage of color and motion. Elite of every rank and hue stood before widely spaced terminals, doing more work, he was sure, than they had since their final university exams.
And directly in front of the central terminal, was one red-headed mongrel. As usual, Katze had a cigarette in his mouth, and he was speaking into his ear-com while rapidly entering data. An armed android stood off to his right, its inhuman eyes constantly scanning the open floor.
"Yeah—yeah—no! Wrong sequence, Tir. I don't want to cut off Midas' water supply. Maybe if we-,"
"Katze."
"Hold on a minute, okay?" Katze said into the com then turned to look at Raoul.
"He's fine?" It was all the red mongrel said, but Raoul could see the tension running through the slim body.
"As fine as possible, circumstances being what they are," he replied.
"But he's still—Iason?"
The Blondie's mouth tilted in a wry smile.
"Iason has changed more than once over the years, Katze. But I believe you will recognize him as the man you last saw."
Taut shoulders gradually relaxed, and the golden eyes shut for just an instant. Then translucent white lids rose and the eyes came back up to his.
"He'll be down soon, then?"
"I assume so. And I'm sure he'll come here first, so be warned: he's in a commanding frame of mind."
Laughter brightened delicate features.
"Issued you a few impossible orders, did he? That's Iason for you."
"Lately, yes," he said, remembering the initial request that had started this chain of events. "Katze, do you know if Guy is still here?"
"Riki went down to ground level to see him. I think he tore something."
Raoul's face settled into its usual taciturn lines.
"That throw," he murmured to himself. "It only wanted this." He looked back down at Midas' Boss. "Thank you Katze. It's been... interesting. And goodbye. I won't be around for a while. A long one, most likely."
The fiery head tilted to one side and a crimson eyebrow rose.
"Ask Iason," Raoul said in response to the unspoken question, then turned on his heel and left the way he'd come in.
Riki paced. Across from him, Guy was stretched out on some Elite's outer-office lounge, completely insensible. The Red medic had tranqed him, then sutured the torn flesh shut.
"It's all I can do," he'd told Riki, after administering an antibiotic injection. "The only thing better would be regen, and I don't know any that'd take him in this part of town."
Surprisingly, the man had been alright in his attitude. But he worked in a Midas clinic some of the time, so Riki supposed he was used to dealing with the 'have-nots' of Tanagura's outlying districts.
He wished someone would tell him what the hell was going on upstairs. He was giving patience his best shot, but it was driving him crazy not knowing.
"Riki."
Katze's voice spoke in his ear, startling him, and he put a hand to the com.
"Yeah?"
"It's alright. He's alright."
The nervous energy left him all at once, and he sat down suddenly. Luckily, the chair next to him caught his descent.
"He still up there?" he asked.
"Yes. Raoul's on his way down, though."
Even as Katze spoke the words, the port opened and the golden Elite strode in.
"Yeah, he's here. Later."
The Blondie only glanced at Riki, coming to a stop before the couch and looking down at the still form on it.
Riki wanted to put his hands in his pockets, but this damned skin-armor didn't have any. He crossed his arms instead, turning his back on the other two men, his discomfort acute.
"Was it the one on his abdomen?"
"Uh, yeah." When Raoul spoke, he jerked around to find the Blondie's eyes on him. "The medic said he'd be okay, though. Just give it a while to knit."
"I've heard that before." Raoul's tone was low and Riki barely caught the words. He didn't think he was supposed to.
"Raoul." He hated to disturb the other man, but... "Can I go up? Katze said he's still there."
"I see no reason why not." Raoul reached down and lifted the unconscious Guy into his arms. "Goodnight, Riki."
He waited until the Blondie had gone, then went straight for the lift. He stopped at floor 101, but Katze turned, shook his head, and pointed a finger at the ceiling.
So now he was going where no mongrel had ever set foot before. Stepping into the Sanctuary's lift, the only one that went all the way up, he merely glanced at the hand-imprint ID. Katze had already bypassed it.
"Sanctuary."
He didn't know what he'd expected the room to look like, but he supposed it fit some amorphous idea in his head. Bare save for a single chair with a low table in front of it, and beyond that...
Iason was standing before some kind of platform, his back to Riki. He wore dark blue and white, his typical Blondie uniform, and he looked the same to the black mongrel as he always had.
"Riki."
His name released him from the paralysis that gripped his body and he walked slowly across the smooth floor, footfalls echoing off alloy-based walls. Stopping beside the Blondie, he shifted in place, unsure what to do.
Turning his head, Iason glanced down at him.
"It's been a rather long week, has it not, Pet?" he remarked, his tone quiet.
The mongrel said nothing, just reached out to lay one hand on the Blondie's arm. After a minute or so, white-gloved fingers covered his own. And stayed.
17
Sun-rays penetrated the shield of his lids, a red-tinged nimbus to his awakening eyes. He opened them carefully, keeping the glare at a minimum, and pushed himself up on one elbow to look around.
As usual, he was in a different place... and a different bed. He half expected to find Raoul sitting next to him, but the Blondie was nowhere in sight. Blinking to clear the sleep scum away, he took a closer look at his surroundings.
They were different from the last place he'd woken in—but not unfamiliar. Golden-brown wood glowed in the late afternoon sun, both walls and floor constructed from that medium; except for the far wall, which was a fascinating creation of clear plas squares in thin wooden frames.
Ronin was suddenly sure he still slept, because this place matched the Ito school's appearance, exactly. Sitting the rest of the way up, he looked out the oddly constructed window and found the view he expected. Stone paths and carefully tended shrubbery—small streams winding between them—and beyond the meditation gardens, the outdoor training flats. As he watched, figures moved and steel flashed, catching the sun and throwing it back towards the sky.
A whisper of sound brought his head around, and he turned to see a kneeling woman open the rice-paper glider. When she noticed him sitting up, she bowed, then rose to a half-crouch before lifting a tray and entering the room. Setting it on the low table next to the futon he occupied, she bowed again, smiled serenely at him and backed from the room, sliding the glider shut after her.
There was broth, tea and water on the tray and he reached for the last immediately, wetting his dry throat, then pushing his pillows into a pile behind him and leaning back. He needed to take a piss, badly, but that would have to wait. Right now, he wasn't sure he could get up. Both his stomach and shoulder were throbbing, just from the strain of sitting. He'd definitely pushed his limits too far, yesterday.
Or whenever. A month might have passed since the Tower had fallen, for all he knew.
This time he missed the sound of the glider opening, so concentrated on his thoughts that he didn't notice he had company until Master Shinjo spoke.
"Good afternoon, young Guy. You are feeling—a bit better, perhaps?"
Ronin ducked his head, a flush burning his cheeks at his discourtesy, but the Master waved a hand in a dismissive gesture.
"Stay still, boy. You don't want to pop yourself back open, do you?"
Shinjo's eyes twinkled at him and he felt a smile tug at his mouth. Another servant entered, placed a thin pad beside the futon and bowed himself out. Arranging his kimono around himself, the Master sank down to kneel on the mat, hands resting on slightly splayed thighs.
"Not as young as I once was," he told Ronin. "These floors are hard on old joints."
Wise, wine-dark eyes studied the mongrel on the bed.
"Your Sensei has told me you've had quite a time of it."
Ronin's chin shot up, his startled gaze fixing on Shinjo.
"Sensei? Is he here?"
"Not now. He left four days ago, right after he brought you."
Everything in him stilled, waiting for the Master to continue.
"He is off-world for the present. I do not know how long he will be gone, but he left you this."
Shinjo held a data-pad out to him and he reached for it, turning his eyes reluctantly to the few sentences written on it.
Heal. Train. Learn anew that a katana is not only a means of killing. Take what is offered Guy-chan.
Live with purpose, this time.
Tears sprang unbidden from their ducts and he blinked rapidly, holding them back.
"There is a place for you here, do you want it," the Master said. "I would have offered it to you even without Jervaux-san's request. You have ability. And discipline. Most men your age have not even begun to learn that aspect of the Way."
Ronin raised his eyes to the Master's calm, compassionate countenance.
"Thank you, Master Shinjo. If you do not find the presence of a former Gladiator in your dojo distasteful... then I accept, with gratitude."
Standing before the Spaceport's immense bay windows, Matt watched as a ground crew readied the private transport that would carry him to one of the most notorious cess-pits in the galaxy: Avara.
A repository for humanity's dregs, it attracted every possible type of criminal. Drawn by rich deposits of veridium and the wealth they promised, thieves and pirates preyed on miners and haulers alike. Avara's single city, the sprawling out-post of Mithra, had more than earned its reputation for depravity and violence.
And Mithra was where he'd be for the-gods-only-knew how long.
"Cap?"
Turning his head, he saw Ming and Tir standing a few meters away, both of them clothed in the black and crimson dress uniform of the Teams. Matt's eyes focused on the beautiful young mongrel standing slim and straight in the colors he'd more than earned. Lieutenant Tiril Ganaan, jg.
And Ming. Short, cocky, stubborn—as loyal as they came. The gods broke the mold after they made you, LT. You probably scared the hell out of them.
He'd known them both since his second year away from the Tower. Damn, but this was hard.
Ming's black eyes caught his and crinkled at the corners in a barely-there smile.
"It'll be over before you know it, Cap. Military occupation will continue, but Mink'll send someone else in a year or two." The smile got bigger. "Marston'll make damn sure he does. I think it freaks him out that Team 15's got a woman for a CO."
She was probably right.
To Matt's surprise, the meeting between Iason Mink and the League's Brigadier had gone smoothly. Marston had taken Tanagura's change in leadership stoically, his attitude almost indifferent.
But the League was an insular community and the Citadel had functioned autonomously for two-hundred years. And over the last fifty, the ties that bound the Centurions to the Tower had slowly grown gossamer thin—brittle to the point of disintegration.
Marston probably wouldn't care if a troglodyte held Tanagura's reigns, so long as it kept the city under control.
Then there was the small fact of the League's internal corruption, which had gone unchecked until Matt brought Mink in to remove the taint. It was an embarrassment to the ranking officers—and a stain on the League's sterling reputation—that a civilian, no matter how highly-placed, had been forced to clean up their mess.
Marston was in Mink's debt, an intolerable situation for the proud Brigadier-General. But it meant the League's commander-in-chief was unlikely to throw a spanner in the works. It was also, Matt suspected, the reason he was not facing court-martial. His involvement in the Tower's fall could be construed as high treason.
A hand came to rest on his arm, and he shook off his introspection to find Tir next to him. Enormous violet eyes searched his own.
"We'll still be here. When you come back. I—we—we're not going anywhere."
"I know, brat." He tucked a wisp of black hair into Tir's braid then looked at Ming.
"You ready for this?"
The quirky grin returned, a dimple marring one smooth, brown cheek.
"I was born ready, Cap. Now get the hell outta here. Jaz can't hold that transport forever."
Reaching out, he took her hand in a tight grip. Ming returned it, then lightly punched his upper arm when she let go.
"See you 'round, Captain Vere."
Shoving her hands into her pants pockets, and completely ruining the clean lines of her uniform, she swaggered off.
"Hurry up and kiss him, Tir," she called without turning. "We're due back on base in a half."
The expected flood of color rose in the boy's face and Matt brushed long fingers over one red-tinged cheek. They'd already said goodbye last night. He couldn't do it again.
"I'll miss you."
"Y-yes." Silvery tears glistened against deep purple irises.
Tir reached out suddenly—pulling Matt down and kissing him hard enough to bruise—then let go and backed away.
"Com me if there's a problem. And I'll see you... when I see you."
They were words Mattias Vere had heard numerous times over the years. As he watched Tir walk swiftly away, long legs eating up the ground, he decided they fit the situation as well any.
It was windy out on the tarmac, boisterous gusts of air that caught at his black fatigues. Jaz stood at the transport's entry, his sergeant the only member of his team joining him for this sojourn in hell.
"C'mon Cap! Lift off in five!"
The hatch sealed automatically behind him and he joined Jaz in the forward cabin, strapping himself in and closing his eyes.
The craft was military; brand new and built with the best technology available. It cut though Amoi's atmosphere towards space with smooth precision. As they passed the twin moons, he felt the deep throb of warp engines humming to life.
Telmarian design. That sound is unmistakable. Damn, I hate space travel, he thought as the drive engaged and the small ship shot forward into the future.
Epilogue
Riki quietly set his duffle beside the open doorway before walking back towards the gorgeously opulent bed to look down on the Blondie sleeping there.
Over the last two months, Iason had driven himself to the point of exhaustion and beyond—too many duties demanding more from him than even a Blondie could afford. Tonight was the first time in three weeks he'd come to bed before thirty-hundred.
They almost never saw each other and when they did, they drifted distantly in their separate thoughts and concerns; together, but apart.
For the first time since he'd woken to the sound of his Blondie's voice, Riki was restless. Eos hemmed him in, crushing the breath from him. It was nothing Iason had done or said. It certainly wasn't that he was trapped here. He had both security and freedom—and he was slowly loosing his mind.
He couldn't shake off the incident at the lab. It wasn't so much what that Elite had done, as how he'd done it—and that he'd believed he had the right to. The Silver had taken Riki back to those days when he'd been 'the Dark'... a time when he'd hated Elites with his entire soul. A time when a citizen could beat him senseless in public and not one person would protest. Remembered feelings of inferiority and anger goaded him, whispering their warnings across his mind.
Jupiter was gone... Tanagura remained unchanged. The Elite still lived in Eosian grandeur, while the mongrels of Ceres wandered aimlessly through their pointless existence. No matter how smart Riki was—no matter how skilled—he'd never be more than a curiosity to the majority of Amoi.
That wasn't what was eating him alive, though—not really. He was sick of this place. Sick of the whole damn planet. He wanted to see how people on other worlds lived. Wanted to know what a place that judged you by your abilities, not your appearance, was like. Wanted to live that way himself. Just... for a while.
That thought had occupied his mind for the last two months. So he was going. They were always looking for hands on off-world freighters and it would get him away from Amoi, at least. Only one thing had kept him from leaving sooner: the man who lay sprawled across the bed, his icy blonde beauty tangled in creamy sheets.
Even now, most of Riki wanted to toss his duffle back in the closet and crawl in beside Iason—then wrap himself around his Blondie and put an end to their estrangement.
No.
There was a stronger voice inside, though. One that told him to get out while he still could.
Moving carefully, knowing of old how fine-tuned Iason's senses were, he reached out and lifted one strand of platinum hair, brushing it over his lips, letting the Blondie's scent invade his senses one more time.
Then he let go, the thin coil of pale silk falling to one white shoulder. Walking backwards towards the door, he kept his eyes on Iason as long as he could. He couldn't stand here forever though, so he swung the duffle over his shoulder and strode purposefully towards the lift, not allowing himself the luxury of looking back.
It's not like it's for good, he told himself as the lift doors slid shut.
The condo's port closed on a soft sigh, and within the depths of the exotically-crafted bed, long lashes lifted slowly, revealing eyes washed of their color by the night. They drifted over the room for a moment... focused on the sparkle of moonlight on metal. The silver ring lay near one long-fingered hand. Those fingers traced the entwined etchings then curled over the ring, fisting around it.
They unclenched suddenly and the device seemed to spring from them, skidding across the sheets to the edge of the bed. The pale eyes watched as it hung for a moment,
mid-air... then fell, vanishing as though it had never existed.
The End - to be continued in Doppelganger