Chapter 16 #2
She riveted him. Little things, like wondering if her ears were as sensitive as they looked. Big things, like wondering how it would feel to be close, body to body, skin to skin. Or to kiss her, or please her. To be touched by her.
There was absolute zero chance of that happening. Her orbit was way above his. He wasn’t a security professional; he was an undereducated ex-enforcer with flexible ethics and an astronomically high body count. It was a violation of their contract to care.
Based on her history, she was overdue to pull up her planetary anchors and move on.
Once they terminated their agreement, he’d be free to talk to her about feelings and sparks and shit, but what was the point?
Even with what she’d been paying him, he couldn’t afford to follow her to the orbiting space station, much less across the galaxy.
A shiver snuck up on him. Standing in an empty alley like a mugger too dimwitted to stay out of the rain wasn’t solving anything.
He released the threads of his talent and headed back through the complex to the dark and quiet townhouse.
The kitchen’s cold box offered half a leftover mystery-protein roll, which he heated and ate while reading the security console logs. Nothing out of the ordinary.
After a manual check of the doors and windows, he paused outside her bedroom door to confirm she was in her room. He pretended to himself he hadn’t already brushed her unique signature with his talent several times the moment he’d come within range.
On his bed, a written note from Charrascos told him to read his messages. He let his percomp sync to the net while he hung his damp clothes over the solardry and fished the sleep pants out of his bag.
The message said she was leaving tomorrow afternoon with Tapio on a trip to Concordance Prime, home of the galactic government’s High Council, to personally witness a landmark court judgment. Since it was such short notice, she told the team their presence was optional.
He’d wanted the chance to vanish, and here it was.
Despite her assurances that Tapio traveled with a small army of security, the rest of Arco’s team had already signed on immediately. Not surprising, since he and the others had privately agreed that Tapio’s staff clearly believed they had an easy-glide gig and acted accordingly.
He pinged his own acceptance, then crawled into bed and waved his hand over the control to douse the light. Renner would have used his talent.
Spires, the fantastically beautiful showcase city of glass, was the primary base for the Central Galactic Concordance government’s high everything.
It teemed with self-impressed politicians, deep-pocketed lobbyists, and gawking tourists.
See-through this, infinite reflection that, and color-morphing walls everywhere.
It was like walking in an overcrowded fishbowl full of rainbow glitter. Security was a fucking nightmare.
Ambitious Davidro had once taken his circus to Con Prime.
Against the strong advice of his pet forecaster, he’d gone to peddle a secret special project he’d dreamed up.
Instead of a promotion, he’d gotten his shielder and one other contractor killed, and nearly gotten caught by the CPS Office of Internal Inquiry.
Davidro had never gone within a parsec of the planet again.
Renner took several long, centering breaths to help clear his mind. In the morning, he could pull up holomaps of the High Court complex where Charrascos and Tapio were headed to. For now, he was tired enough that even the worst of his nightmares wouldn’t bother him.
He woke to darkness and a weird, repetitive whooshing sound. The sleep sack tangled with his legs as he rolled off the bed to crouch on the floor.
The noise turned out to be his percomp, which had also fallen on the floor. The quiet whooshing alert signaled an incoming ping. He’d forgotten to disconnect it from the net.
Zero-five-hundred in the fucking morning. Too early for Charrascos to rise, too late for him to go back to sleep. He sat on the floor and read the multiple pings from Haseem.
The first was from two hours ago, from the joyhouse’s secure net address.
“I don’t know who else to ask. I’m on night shift.
One of our former friends came to my office, wanting help with their upcoming event.
I said no. They left, but now external security cams show three of them watching the exits.
Could you come walk me to the metro around six hundred? ”
The second ping asked if he’d gotten the first ping. The third ping, from twenty minutes ago, galvanized Renner into scrambling action.
“I’m scared. Now there’s six of them. They’ve got a ground hauler big enough to smash the gate. Office security can’t handle an attack like this, and people will get hurt. Please ping me if you get this.”
He used the fresher, dressed, and grabbed his coat, cloak, and bag. He’d sort the clothes and weapons in it later.
Charrascos needed her flitter, so he ordered a premium priority autocab pickup at the community airpad, a half-hex block from the townhouse.
The rain had turned to sleet and ice while he slept, making streets and walkways treacherous, despite his adaptive boots. At least the predawn hour meant the autocab came quickly.
He entered the coordinates, then sent a message to Haseem to stay inside until he arrived. Sleet hit the autocab’s windows as he settled back to think.
A second later, he bolted upright and hurriedly pinged messages to Charrascos and the security team that he had personal business to take care of, and he’d meet them at the spaceport. They’d get her to the rendezvous with Tapio’s entourage on time.
A few minutes more of thinking brought the realization that Renner, master of mayhem and universal electrical force, could easily handle six amateur conspirators and a ground hauler. However, Faraday Brenner, master of nothing, needed help.
He pinged Soleil’s studio, expecting to leave a message, and instead got the woman herself.
“Heyo, Brenner. Mornings aren’t your ace. You and Charrascos coming to class?” Her voice sounded relaxed and cheerful.
“Haseem’s in trouble. A crew wants to recruit him.
He doesn’t want to join.” Fanatical, potentially violent wannabe terrorists were just another type of criminal crew in his book.
“He’s holed up at the joyhouse where he works.
The crew might slice the gate and haul his ass.
I’m in an autocab, twenty minutes from the public airpad that’s next door to the joyhouse. ”
“What’s the objective?” Much more Jumper in her tone this time.
Grateful for her no-questions-asked trust, he answered with the best alternative he’d come up with. “Take Haseem off the grid. He’s not a fighter. He’s scared.”
Renner blew out a measured breath. The rage monster that lurked in his heart urged him to fry the assholes and dance on their ashes. Satisfying, but not smart. “Ideally, no crew casualties, or they’ll want retribution. Definitely no police or headlines.”
“Copy. I’ll ping you in ten.” She disconnected.
He barely had time to take a breath before Haseem pinged again.
“Thank you for coming.” The relief in his high voice mixed with tension. “The guard on call says they’re all still out there, watching the street exits.”
Renner wished he knew why they’d brought six people. Maybe they wanted Haseem’s medical supplies and chems as much as they wanted him. Maybe they were all gliding high on pinzai delusions.
“Send me holomaps, security feeds, whatever you can. They’re probably waiting for shift change or daylight.” He tried to project a calm confidence he didn’t feel. “Stay alert and stay safe. I’ve got help on the way. I’ll ping you when we’re there.”
Haseem’s data came fast. The joyhouse occupied all three levels of a wide V-shaped building. The buildings surrounding it were of similar heights and occupied by mixed-use small businesses. The roadways between them formed a hex pattern that had been an architectural fad a century ago.
Renner forwarded copies to Soleil, then considered his options.
Jumpers were all warped times infinity, but Renner couldn’t complain.
He’d hoped Soleil would bring a friend with a shockstick or two. Instead, eight ex-Jumpers and three kids from class showed up with multiple weapons and military tech toys.
Soleil had handed him a secure earwire for private communications, then surprised him by asking to take command, rather than just assuming it.
He’d apparently surprised her by agreeing without hesitation. Davidro had made him into a weapon, not a leader. Charrascos’s security team only listened to him because she told them to.
Soleil sent the boy and two girls to tag the crew and the hauler with high-end surveillance tech. The sullen, sleety pre-dawn haze made the kids nearly invisible.
Three Jumpers clung to each other like seaweed and stumbled their way into the joyhouse, loudly demanding more chems and large beds filled with sex partners. The other five went off on mysterious missions.
Once her forces were all deployed, Soleil invited him on a walk to within a block of the hauler. As they found a recessed service entrance to stand in, light began breaking over the eastern skyline.
He caught her eye. “I owe you.”
Her mouth twitched in humor. “Nope. Rescuing innocents from evil jackholes is what all Jumpers signed on for. I had to pull rank and order some of them to stay in the studio. I gave up trying with the kids.”
She caused her gauntlet-style percomp to display a composite holo of the joyhouse, the watchers, and the Jumpers.
“Best scenario is to extract Haseem without anyone the wiser.” The holo disappeared when her arm dropped.
“Two questions. First, can you disable the ground hauler for a bit, but leave it undamaged?” She brushed two fingers across her temple, probably meaning his talent.
Faraday Brenner shouldn’t be able to, but fuck it. Haseem was his friend. “Yes.”
“Second question. Can Haseem leave town for a while?”