Emerson Fortier
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Chapter 39 - Infiltration Specialist (1)
🕑 Added 2022-10-14 12:59:01 +0000 UTCIn a departure with protocol, they met at Te’klub. Feiruhn was the one who suggested it, through the intermediary of TC. “Our friend Izzi can host.” The half breed told them as he shared their table, puffing at the smoke stick Zihan provided when he sat down. He waved at the smoke and coughed as he gestured to the little bartender wiping grease onto a glass in a corner of the bar. “He is known to do so at times, for a fee, but his discretion is also guaranteed. He knows what will happen if the piss bots are called down on his hole.”
So they gathered in the bar. Shockstick and the Kabis shared a table with the girls, tossing cards back and forth in a game of leaves that seemed to involve some kind of hidden partners and a fair sum of credits moving back and forth between the four players, while Bealtiel watched. Hao Dong leaned in a shadowy corner, arms crossed over his chest while his cloak crawled over him, its eyes glinting as it peeked at the other patrons in the bar.
Zihan chose to sit with Agate at a separate table, and Yi Cao made a point of sitting in a chair against the wall nearby. A servant, he thought again, as he’d begun to think of himself. Half guard, half attendant, half symbol. Ready, if Zihan asked for anything, and ready for very little else. He found his fingers tapping on the butt of his pistol while he waited, humming along with Bo Bo’s tuneless droning until he realized it and silenced the machine with a warning.
“You know you don’t have to join me for this.” Agate told Zihan as they waited. The blue sparks around him seemed fewer than when they’d met on the Teets. More subdued. They didn’t trail his finger as he tapped at his glass, but blinked and swirled in an ephemeral dance Yi Cao might have taken for a trick of the light if he hadn’t known better.
“I note that the rest of your crew did.” Zihan replied. He’d clamped his smoke stick between his teeth while he fiddled with a box of shifting silver metal about the size of a fist. Pieces of it spun beneath the liquid crome, revealing a frame of black wire that hid beneath a mercury surface until the metal crawled back across it to pull the cube back into shape. Zihan twisted a piece out of configuration then held it and chuckled as the mercury tried unsuccessfully to pull it back into shape.
“That was expensive.” Agate commented as he watched. “Fleshmetal isn’t cheap, and custom AI’s are never easy to find. They need licenses, and we obviously can’t apply for them.”
Zihan took the little construct in both hands and gave it a savage twist.
“Give me that!” The androgyn snatched it out of his hands, then examined it, spinning a couple of the dials before dropping it on the table and glaring at Zihan. “Leave that be.” He said.
Zihan blew a smoke ring at the androgyn’s face. “What’d you put inside?” He asked.
Agate crossed his arms and looked away. “You’ll find out if one of the candidates opens it.”
Kalamal gave a shout of triumph behind them as she scooped up the cards and handed them to Bealtiel to shuffle, giggling and grinning at Shockstick while the hulking Kabi’s gave her entirely too much attention.
Their first candidate looked like Agate, minus the sparkle of lambent flames. It spoke briefly to the bartender who pointed it to Agate’s table, then drifted through the chattering patrons until it settled into a chair opposite the two and regarded them from the shadows of a deep hood. A spark passed from Agate to the fellow androgyn and his nostrils flared.
“Kikimora.” Agate breathed.
The fellow androgyn pulled down its hood to reveal features that might have been a twin to his own, but narrower, more delicate, feminine somehow in contrast to his thicker features, despite the lack of breasts or hair.
“Zhar ptitsa.” She replied. “And a strong one. There are not many like you on the station anymore.”
The two regarded one another for a long time.
“How strong is your gift?” Agate asked.
The other androgyn smiled. “Strong.” She replied.
Zihan blew smoke between them. “I’m sorry. This is beyond me.” He said. He raised an eyebrow at the newcomer. “What exactly can you do?”
The new androgyn looked at him, then Agate slid her the cube across the table.
“Why don’t you show him instead.”
The androgyn hesitated. She lifted the cube and examined it, spun it this way and that, studied it with dark eyes. “What is in it?” She asked.
“That is for you to tell us.” Agate replied.
The woman, if it was a woman, set the cube on the table then touched it with three fingers of one hand. Those fingers seemed to fade, like ink in the rain, then she pushed them into the box, through it, without disturbing the actual material of the cube.
“A very strong talent.” Agate said.
The candidate ignored him and dug around inside the box while Zihan smoked. She frowned with concentration as she fiddled with the cube’s guts. “I feel something.” She said. “Small and circular. Perhaps a ring, or a hollow coin.”
“Can you get it out?” Agate asked.
The Kikimora looked up at him. “I could try.” She said. “But I would have to make it fade, like my fingers.” She wiggled the slender digits she hadn’t tucked into the box in demonstration. “It might not come back again.”
“Never mind then.” Agate answered. He waved a hand at the box. “Pull them out again. No need to waste your gift.”
She sighed as she pulled her fingers from the cube, held them up and watched as the fingers slowly came back to life or reality.
“How much of your body could you do that to, and for how long?” Agate asked.
“I can fade my entire self.” The thing answered. “Though my clothes would stay behind.”
Agate glanced at Zihan, then back to the thing in front of them. “Pretend that cube was a door.” He said, gesturing to it. “Could you open it for us?”
The thing looked at it for a long time, then shook her head. “I’m a thief, more than a lockpick.” She replied. She seemed to study them. “I have been since my gift kindled.” The androgyn seemed to study Zihan, and then Agate in turn. “I was told I could start a new life, if I helped you.”
Agate shook his head sadly and sat back in his chair. “Not this time.” He said. “Not if you can’t open the box.”
The androgyn nodded. She looked at the box one more time, then stood. “Good luck.” She said.
“Be careful out there.” Agate replied. “I”m sorry.”
The candidate gave him a disappointed look then pulled up her hood and disappeared back into the hall outside.
“Is there something wrong with being a Kikimora?” Yi Cao asked. He didn’t realize he’d said the question out loud until both Agate and Zihan turned to look at him. He clamped his mouth shut and reminded himself to blend in with the furniture.
“Every gift is regulated.” Agate replied. He reached out and took the box, giving it a couple of spins and watching his sparks reflected in the surface snap to life, then fade, and wink to life again. “Some are banned.” He pushed the box away and took a drink from the his glass as he glanced towards the door. “It is the way of the world.”
“And what about this Zhar-pitit-stick-titsy?” Zihan asked. “They banned too?”
One blue spark flared and drifted down along the table. It bobbed and danced across the surface. “At my strength?” Agate asked. The spark grew as he watched it, curled in on itself and extruded little ribbons until a tiny humanoid figure of blue fire danced at the center of the table.
When Agate looked away it winked out of existence.
“No.” Agate said. “Not for me. I’m wanted for other indiscretions.”
Zihan smoked.
Another candidate arrived, bringing over a mug of beer in a metallic hand. Ceramic plating along chest and shoulder where skin should have been. One eye replaced by a gaping hole above a stringy white beard.
They spoke in low voices and the man pulled out a bit of cable which he ran tentatively from his eye into the liquid metal of the sphere. For a moment nothing happened, then the man began to shake and Agate yanked the cable from his eye.
He let out a shaky breath. Thanked them, then stood and left.
“That looked unimpressive.” Zihan commented.
“The idiot should never have jacked in.” Agate replied. “He almost got his brain turned to mush.” He shook his head. “Idiotic.”
Zihan sucked his smoker down to its nub then dropped it into his empty cup and sat back. “Same happened to your old partner didn’t it?” He asked.
“Nanzam.” Agate replied. “And Yes. AI’s are dangerous.”
Smoke curled from Zihan’s cup like a chimney and he flicked it once or twice producing small rings of smoke above the lip.
“Seems a risk of the trade then, not idiotic.”
“Any interface with an AI is risky.” Agate replied. He watched Zihan’s glass as more smoke rolled from the top. “They get in your brain and you’re just hardware. Scramble you up through your own implants or turn you into walking drones. Not something you risk if you aren’t prepared.”
A growling Izzi appeared at Agate’s elbow and Agate turned. The bartender snatched Zihan’s cup from the table and upended the contents onto the floor then ground the smoking stub to powder. “Not an ash tray.” He growled up at Zihan. He shook the cup at him. “Good glassware.” He added. “Put it on the floor if you’re done with it. Don’t put it in my cups.”
He turned and stalked away muttering under his breath.
“And another to drink!” Zihan called after the growling bartender..
Izzi waved a hand in the air without turning and Zihan fished out his sub-space wallet, dialing up a thin wooden box of smoke sticks before tucking the wallet back away. The smoker he plucked from the box lit on its own when he gave it a pull and he blew the acrid smoke into the air in a blue haze.
“Those things will kill you you know.” Agate told him.
“Then I’ll die.” Zihan replied, voice thick with a second hit from the smokestick.
Agate looked away. “It smells terrible.”
Another candidate arrived as Izzi poured Zihan his drink and the bartender sent him to the table with it. He’d served it in a bowl this time, with suspicious bits of gray floating on its surface. The man who’d brought it wore a mask like an owl’s face. Bulging black eyes in a noseless disk of pearlescent white. The thing hesitated as it brought Zihan his drink.
“He said you wanted it like this.” The thing told said in a whispering voice. “Said you’d understand.” It placed the bowl in front of them, like an offering, fingers like sharp spines clicking nervously as it released the bowl and took the seat opposite them. “Told me to, you understand, so there isn’t any ill will.”
“Of course.” Zihan took the bowl, fished out a bit of ash and flicked it away, then raised the ash-tray drinking bowl in Izzi’s direction in a toast before taking a sip.
The Talyaya bartender raised a hand in a rude gesture before another Patron called for his attention further down the bar.
The owl thing couldn’t open the cube either. It fiddled with it for a long time, eyes flashing multi-colored beams of light down at the crome surface while its claws clicked and ticked at it, like a wood-pecker searching for a weak place in a tree.
“I think that’s time.” Agate replied when two more patrons who’d obviously come as candidates lined themselves up at the bar.
The owl thing slammed the cube onto the table with enough force to make Agate snatch for his drink while Zihan’s bowl jumped and tipped.
The thing looked at them. Lights flashing in its circular eyes.
“I know who you are.” It told them. “I’ve seen you.”
Zihan’s grin tightened into something a little less amused.
Agate only nodded. “Are you sure?” He asked.
“My infractions are a fraction of yours.” It whispered. “If you don’t cut me in, I can go to the Governor and get this whole operation caved in. Win a pardon for my time.” It raised a clawed hand, clicked the long knives.
None of the group were playing cards anymore. Shockstick’s twin technotic eyes watched the avian creature while the smart Kabi glowered at the thing. The Lucky One watched over his shoulder with a look of numb disinterest and the girls hung cautiously back. Some of the patrons at the neighboring tables had even turned at the bang to watch.
Agate studied the thing for a moment, then looked down at his cup and nodded. “Well.” The androgyn said. “Hao Dong will show you out.”
Hao Dong was suddenly there, behind the thing, as though he’d been there the entire time.
“All the way out.” Agate added with a look to the scarred man standing over the owl’s shoulder.
“With pleasure.” The man growled.
The owl rose in a lunge, but the cape around Hao Dong’s shoulder’s was faster. It leapt from the man in a wave of black cloth spiked by claws and mandibles and black flashing eyes that belonged more to nightmare than an article of clothing.
The owl thing screamed as the cloak went over its face. It thrashed and kicked away but Hao Dong had already jerked a weapon like a quartet of rings from a holster at his side and he snapped it forward, materializing a wicked looking spike that buried itself in the things side as he did.
The owl shrieked, muffled by the cloth writhing and scrabbling over its face and arms. It convulsed and fell away from its assailant only for the cape to separate from Hao Dong’s shoulders in a puff of black mist and follow it to floor, hugging its head and chittering as it did its work. It flashed several times, from within, as the owl thing used whatever was in its eyes, then Hao Dong put a boot on the thing’s chest and punched it again with his spike.
It took three hits for the thing to fall still, each hit accompanied by crack of mechanical parts breaking and the wet suck of the biological meat he’d punctured.
In the silence that followed, the cape flowed off of the dead thing’s face and up Hao Dong’s shoulders. The thing seethed momentarily with eyes then fell still. One of the owl thing’s arms dropped from its folds in a clatter of broken machinery.
“I hate when you use that thing.” Shockstick said. “Practically nothing left to salvage.”
“He had a couple of spare hearts.” Hao Dong grunted. He tucked the spike away and spat. “Been worth a whole lot if he hadn’t made me break em.”
“We aren’t salvaging him anyways.” Agate said. The androgyn looked around the bar, blue sparks swirling in the air around him. “This never happened.” He said. “Just a friendly misunderstanding.” He glanced at the owl thing still laying on the floor at Hao Dong’s feet. “Bits of him will be available, for those who want them, in the back of the bar.”
Hao Dong grunted and lifted the corpse. He kicked the hand his cloak had dropped and Shockstick bent to pick it up. “Consolation prize.” He said, then he carried the corpse to the back of the room, into the narrow corridor that ran back to the rented room and the facilities.
There was a noticeable lack of blood.
“A round of beer I think. On us.” Agate added, looking to the bartender.
A few of the patrons gave a ragged cheer, and attention shifted to Izzi as he started pouring cups.
Agate collected the metal cube from the other end of the table and gave a look to Zihan who’d sat reclining in his chair through the whole exchange.
Zihan took a hit then blew smoke in his direction. “Capable man, your Hao Dong.” He said. “That what you’re waiting on?”
Agate turned away. “So long as you understand.”
Zihan took another hit from his tobacco stick. “Think he could blow up a rock?” He asked.
Agate touched the cube, recalibrating it after the owl’s test. “He wouldn’t have to.” He replied.
The next candidate brought them both a beer.
