Chapter 4 Varok
VAROK
Iarrived at the commencement party with a grin on my face, twirling an ID tag around my fingers. Turnabout is fair play. A human phrase I’d heard somewhere, one I loved putting into practice.
The room was already busy, with more of the Reach’s wealthiest assholes appearing as I explored. I amused myself looking at the jewels they wore, picking out the real from the fake, the valuable from the worthless. The best forgeries cost more than some of the cheaper gems.
It distracted me from the shadow of loneliness creeping into my heart. None of these nobles were my peers—they were marks, targets. There was exactly one person in the Hive I could confide in, and I’d locked her out of the party.
Idiot. She could have buried me. I kept the snarl off my face with difficulty. I had to show her that stealing from me comes with consequences.
Not that I’d confide in her. We weren’t friends, and we weren’t allies. We were rivals, and while I enjoyed our sparring, I wouldn’t make the mistake of trusting her.
I moved through the party on autopilot, saying the right words, laughing at the terrible jokes, trying to find anything to distract myself from Penny. Impossible—the bewitching human had a hold on me I couldn’t shake.
“Ah, Varok, my esteemed rival.” A jocular voice intruded into my thoughts, and I turned with a fake smile on my lips. The speaker was a Bauran dressed in the Collectors’ black-and-red, though instead of the crystal mask that marked their servants, he wore a crown made of the same material.
Like the masks, the crown grew into his skull. Part of the process of bringing him into the Hive and making him a full Collector, I presumed. I glanced at one of the insectoid crystal aliens and suppressed a shudder at the thought. Give me death before transforming into one of those.
“You must be Collector-Candidate Attrobi,” I said, bowing. “The reason for this gathering. Congratulations on your coming immortality.”
Short, stocky, muscles under the fat, he must have been a formidable fighter in his prime. Scars across his face and bare arms confirmed he was no stranger to combat. Even now, he wasn’t someone to take lightly.
Which suited a member of the Bauran military aristocracy well enough. I’d done my homework on the man and the private art collection he’d put together from the spoils of his military career. A life of constant warfare, putting together a gallery worthy of the Impossible Collection.
He was the person with the most to lose here—if I, or Penny for that matter, brought down the value of his collection enough, he’d lose his invitation to join the Hive. He wasn’t likely to receive another in his lifetime.
Narrow eyes, pupils wide from some narcotic or other, stared up at me. “Your own triumph is hardly less impressive, Varok. A life-size sculpture made of antimatter? Amazing.”
I laughed. “A single piece, General. I’m proud of my work, of course, but it pales compared to the treasures you’ve curated. Re’Hind paintings from before the exile? Halveran light sculpture, Prytheen texture art, and human pre-space works? No wonder the Collectors have offered you a place.”
As I’d hoped, the suspicion vanished behind arrogant pride. “It is my life’s work. Work I gladly commit to the Collection, where it will live forever.”
And where no one will ever experience it, I added. Waging decades of brutal war on a dozen worlds to steal their art was a horrific crime. To then hide it away in the darkness of deep space? Madness.
“A pity,” I mused, “that no one will see my sculpture after this. Preserving it forever is worthwhile, of course, but I enjoy seeing people’s reaction to it. Still, in the Hive my art will live forever even if I do not. I can take comfort in that.”
“Ah, blessed,” the Bauran said, the last hint of suspicion fading from his eyes. “I will ensure your work gets pride of place when next the Hive emerges.”
He clapped me on the arm, smiling, the heady prospect of eternal life distracting him from whatever doubts he may have had.
I followed in his wake, happy to let him bask in the lion’s share of the attention.
This was his triumph, and while I loathed the man, I appreciated the cover he gave me.
But as we circulated, I found my gaze flicking to every new arrival, wondering whether the human female had made her entrance.