While he had no reason to believe the average resident of his block in Harba City meant him any harm, he was convinced that, after three days, the planet itself was trying to kill him. He sat on the floor in the corner of his “claimed” room, facing the two archways that occasionally served as a hallway for commuters. His sidearm was loaded and ready next to his right arm, while his left held a bowl of soup generously given to him by his neighbor. The terminal, which he was surprised to find still under his blanket, untouched by anyone during the day, beeped with an incoming transmission. He tapped the acknowledge button and Ness’ holo appeared in the middle of the room.
“Well, I don’t see any new bruises,” she said, smiling. “How’s the Raven?”
“He didn’t impress me as a ‘Raven.’ More like a navigation AI on a children’s educational sim.”
“Well, regardless, please don’t tell me you trust him.”
“Not for a minute. He all but admitted outright that he’s behind the murders of Locke’s would-be business partners in an attempt to get Keraunos here. He claims he wants to destroy it, but that seems pretty far-fetched. He’s willing to trade it for the girl and seems certain that I’m willing to break parameters, betray my agency, and go along with it.”
Ness thought for a moment. “Aren’t you?”
“I’ve had it with this planet, Ness. Right now, I’m doing whatever it takes to finish this mission my way, and I don’t trust anyone. Halferne knew I was on Notosia. He knew Division 5 field protocols. I have a feeling he’s read my file, which is why he’s so sure I’ll trade it for her. It’s not a stretch to assume he’s the one who called the Tokusha into Harba City trying to grab Keraunos from us.” Clay shook his head. “The last thing I can afford to be with this guy is predictable.”
“So, what’s the plan?”
“The same as it’s always been. Get everyone in one place, eliminate the targets, get the cipher and Keraunos, and get the hell off this planet.”
“Okay, what do you need?”
Clay pulled up a holodisplay on his datapad and synched it with the comm station. “I need a private flight from the starport to the gate station standing by at 1100 hours tomorrow morning – the fastest one you can find. I need you to put the cipher behind this art display here.” The holo zoomed in, and a blinking light indicated the exact position. “Then I need you to play sniper.” He pulled up a mockup of the starport’s main terminal and indicated a maintenance catwalk over the third level that offered a view of nearly the entire concourse. “I assume you have contacts that can smuggle what you need in?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Ness confirmed.
“I’m going to hide the Keraunos data and a couple of decoys in the terminal, just in case he has me watched before I give him the location for the exchange and so it’s someplace secure if this goes south and I get arrested.” He indicated multiple locations around the terminal. Ness nodded in understanding.
Clay continued, “Halferne will no doubt bring at least two people, one to guard Ursza, one to make the pickup. Hēi Gēzi will need to wait until they have the datarod in hand, and then he’ll make his move to secure it and rescue the girl. As soon as you see him, take the shot, then take out Halferne’s men. Hell, if you took out Halferne on your own initiative, I’d back that as an operational call in the field. Meanwhile, I’ll retrieve the cipher, the real Keraunos, and the girl if I’m lucky. You need to cover us while we make a run for the transport you hired.”
“I knew you couldn’t bring yourself to kill her, and I’m once again going to remind you: she’s not your daughter, Clay. She’s not even a good person. There’s no point in risking the wrath of your superiors. She’s not worth it.”
“I’ve got to try, Ness.”
“You’re too personally involved with this mission. What if you do get her out, and they can’t replicate the Shard or figure out how to cure her before she dies a very painful death in front of you, Clay? Can your guilty conscience take that?”
“It’s my mission. It’s my call,” Clay said definitively.
“Yes, it is,” Ness conceded. “So, what’s your call if you fail and can’t get the girl away from Halferne?”
Clay frowned. “Talbot’s dead. There’s no more Shard. Prevo seems willing to let her die in withdrawal. If I can’t get her off-world tomorrow, you’d probably be doing her a favor.”
“Got it,” Ness said coldly.
“Just make sure you get that ninja. Otherwise, this whole thing could fall apart really quickly.”
“Agent Man! What brings you back to my humble abode again so soon?” Ren smiled and gestured Clay into the backroom, then took his seat behind his console and began turning machines on.
“I assume I’m still in good standing with you regarding favors?”
“As far as I know, mate.”
“I need to get a message to the ninja, Hēi Gēzi.”
“Might be difficult without his handler, and you may not be on his list of favorite people after you got her nabbed by the government. Not to mention, you’re burying the needle on deception and mixed emotions today. I assume concerning this transaction.”
Clay stared at him as another piece of the jigsaw puzzle fell into place. He suddenly felt better about his plan to betray everyone he knew on this planet. “Not exactly,” he grumbled and gestured to the console. “Personal problems at home.”
Ren stared at him for a long moment, studying him, then slid the neural jack into the connector behind his left ear. He closed his eyes and took a sudden deep breath before popping them open wide again. “Okay, Agent Man. What’s the message?”
“Tell him I’m trading the girl for the datarod tomorrow, 1100 hours, in the main concourse of the starport. I suspect it’s a trap. I’ve arranged to get Ursza off the planet to people who can help her. Tell him to consider this information a professional courtesy.”
“I don’t know, Agent Man. It seems to me you have no intention of handing that data over, and we know you have orders to kill the ninja.”
Clay shrugged. “You sure your machine is working okay?”
“The machine sees through deception, Agent Man. I’m sure you’re one of the good guys, but when this is all over, and you’re gone, I want to keep my business together and my head attached to my body, if you know what I mean.”
“You didn’t seem to have problems with this yesterday,” Clay protested.
“I don’t remember yesterday, Agent Man. All I know is that, supposedly, I can trust you. Beyond that, you must convince me that trust is not misplaced if you use my services.”
Clay grunted in frustration. “I don’t believe this. Maybe a different dex can help me.”
“Sorry, Agent Man, it’s the rule.” Ren shrugged.
Clay waved him off. “Will it make you feel any better if I add that I’m sure the entire thing is a trap, and I need him to ensure that if this idea goes south and the Tokusha storm in and frag me, someone is there to protect the girl and get her out?”
“Your honesty is beautiful, Agent Man,” Ren smiled and pressed a series of buttons on the console. “Message sent. No immediate response. Are you headed back to your terminal? I can flash you there if something comes back.”
“It doesn’t matter one way or the other,” Clay waved him off. “So, what happened to the girl? She was one step ahead of those government goons. How did they get her when Cerberus missed completely?”
“From what I understand, one minute she was sprinting through the courtyards with them hot on her heels; the next, she’s in irons, and four big boys in blue Tokusha uniforms are walking her out. At least it was under her own power. They could have stunned her and carried her out in a bag.”
“Where did they grab her?”
“Right near the statue of St. Anthony in the northwest courtyard.”
Clay chuckled once. “Ironic. She was Buddhist.”
“People have changes of heart during stressful situations all the time,” Ren smiled, then turned serious. “They say she was just waiting by the statue like Christ in the garden when the guard finally caught up. You don’t think she turned herself in to buy you time to get out, do you?”
“I don’t think she likes me that much, no,” Clay said, deep in thought. “Northwest courtyard, you say?”
“That’s the one.”
“You’ve been very helpful. I won’t chance going back to my terminal. You’re welcome to it if you or anyone you know needs it.”
“Well, thanks, Agent Man. I can see I was right about you.” He quickly scribbled a note on the ledger on the desk next to him.
Clay walked gingerly over the icy pavers into the north courtyard, keeping his collar turned up to hide his face and warm it against the relentless winds and snow. He tried to picture the events of the previous night. Ursza had run through the entire city, eluding government troops and Cerberus hitmen, to stop here in this courtyard. With her knowledge of the layout of Harba City and the pace he had seen her maneuver crowds when not slowed down by him, there was no way they should have been able to capture her the way they did. It sickened him to think that Ren might have been right — that maybe she surrendered herself to get the troops out of the city and away from him. There was only one way to be sure.
He crossed the courtyard, following one of the many cobblestone paths partially concealed and made slippery by the snow. He spotted the statue near an open park in one of the corners and solemnly approached it. It was unremarkable, except that it existed in this place at all. He’d never found much time for religion in his life; in fact, it was little more than a historical curiosity to most Earthers these days, but he always found it fascinating that some people found solace in unanswerable questions and incomprehensible knowledge. It was the antithesis of what he stood for. He circled the statue slowly, studying its features and examining the intricate scrollwork of the base.
It consisted of dozens of dry-stacked stones arranged in a circular pattern about three-quarters of a meter in diameter. Each contained a unique sigil or mark; some were a name or a simple word in standard or some other dialect, and some were a mark or symbol, possibly of a clan or family line or something significant to the traveler who laid it there. They were not all religious in significance, and some were intended to be humorous or even profane.
“Admiring our Anthony?” a man said as he brushed snow off the statue. He was dark-skinned and very tall, with huge hands that pressed fingers together in front of him.
“It’s fascinating,” Clay said. “Did a local artist do this?”
“In fact, yes. Six or maybe seven years ago, a chemist and artist happened here. He fashioned this after making a crude fabricator out of spare parts and crushing up bits of plascrete and stone from the wasteland. It took nearly a year to assemble the parts and three attempts to create a piece of stone durable enough for him to carve that statue.”
“What about the base?”
“I wondered when you would ask. You seem preoccupied with it. The base is its own thing. We call it the Well of Fortune, though really, it’s more of a fountain, and it never works in winter. The stones were left by various travelers over the years. Some contain secrets, and others contain treasures. By tradition, you may select only one stone and peer behind it. If it contains a treasure, you may exchange that treasure for one of your own. If it contains knowledge or a secret, you must never share it and give one of your own in exchange. You may visit and remove your stone as many times as you like, but it must always be the same stone, the one you chose the first time.”
“You’re kidding. How do you enforce something like that here, in a place like this?”
The man shrugged. “Oh, I admit someone could come along and ruin things for everyone by looking behind a second stone or even stealing all of the treasures the Well contains, but to date, I’ve not met the person who wants to be the first to break tradition and defile the well.” He smiled privately to himself and gestured for Clay to pick a stone.
Clay suddenly felt very guilty. He was fully intent on tearing the statue apart for some clue as to why Ursza stopped here, of all places, before being taken by the guards. Now, he had just learned how close he had come to defiling what could almost be a sacred shrine to those who lived here. He took a long, slow breath and felt very ashamed.
“Have you chosen a stone yet, sir?”
“Me?” Clay protested. “No, I’m just passing through. I don’t want to spoil your tradition.”
“Travelers are among our favorites to have participate. They bring in new ideas, refresh the Well with new treasures, help to carry a part of this place on to their next.” The man gestured to the statue, smiling.
Clay knew he would only have one chance at this, regardless of the outcome. Whether he guessed correctly or not, he would honor the tradition and only look behind one stone. He’d already learned enough to be certain that the girl had hidden something here. Maybe she intended someone else to pick it up. Maybe it was a message to let Hēi Gēzi know she was in trouble. Maybe she just hid something here, hoping to pick it up later if she somehow made it back. He had an image of her, panicked, hastily trying to conceal the Keraunos datarod here, only to discover Clay had stolen it from her pocket moments earlier. Clay dismissed the thought that he’d somehow been responsible for her capture. For all he knew, this had nothing to do with his mission and was only of importance to her. He swore that if he guessed wrong, he would leave it at that and let it go.
He walked around the statue again, examining each stone and its marking one at a time, eliminating more than half of them instantly. Ultimately, he came down to a half-dozen, mainly those containing markings or symbols he didn’t recognize and couldn’t quickly at least classify and place. Finally, he decided on a stone bearing a familiar overlapping pattern. He knew the symbol as a Celtic knot, but something in his mind told him this was actually a Buddhist symbol and an important one. He wished he’d studied history more in school or at least taken time to brush up on Buddhism now that he knew Ursza, and presumably Hēi Gēzi, were involved with the local sect and their temples.
Slowly, he pulled the stone from the base, regarded it for a moment, and reached his hand into the hole left behind. Something soft touched his fingers, and he gently grabbed it. When he pulled his hand out, he found he was holding a white lotus.
The tall man smiled. “That’s a fine treasure. I’m sure it has a great story behind it.”
“It does,” Clay said, nodding. “It signifies compassion and positive intentions from the giver, as well as a blessing and desire for the recipient to achieve spiritual purity.” He was almost certain it was the same flower Jonathan 4 had given him and that he’d later given to Ursza in the white shrine. If the lotus was here, Ursza hadn’t come to the statue to hide something. She’d come to take something important enough that she risked getting captured to retrieve it.
Clay’s heart sank. He was sure he knew what it was.
“Well, then,” the man chuckled, “I suppose that one has passed into the right hands. But now, what will you give back in return?”
Still mulling over the implications of what he had just learned, Clay fumbled with the ring on his right hand, activated the holo of his daughter, and regarded it one last time. Maybe Ness was right. Maybe this mission was becoming too personal for him and was tearing him apart. Either way, he was sure he didn’t want his daughter to see what had become of him. He didn’t want her to see him betray his honor or save a less-deserving girl to make him feel better about being unable to save the most important one. Most of all, he didn’t want her to see what happened when he failed. He removed the ring, slid it into the hole in the statue’s base, and slowly replaced the stone.
“I don’t suppose you were here last night? When the Tokusha took the girl?” Clay asked, holding up the flower as if trying to jog the man’s memory.
“I was here. It was very odd.”
“How so?”
The man thought for a moment. “Maybe I just expect the worst from institutions and uniforms, but they were strangely respectful, almost polite. They stood there for what seemed like forever, guns trained on her, waiting for her to finish praying. Then she stood up, let them cuff her, and walked out with them. Now, I know she’s one of those Buddhists who doesn’t believe in violence and all, but those were Chancellor Prevo’s elite troops. They’re supposed to remind us he’s vicious and untouchable, so that kind of thing is usually just an excuse to those guys if you know what I mean.”
Clay chuckled, amazed that people who knew Ursza thought her a pacifist.
“Do you know where she lived? Did she have anyone else in the city? A family, maybe? I know she had a business partner of sorts. Any idea where I could find him?”
“Now, this definitely sounds like none of my business, but no, to be honest, I’d only spoken to the girl in passing a couple of times, and she never talked about herself.”
“What did she talk about?”
“Oh, which planet had the best vegetables or local stew recipe? Who the greatest artists alive were. Was art generally getting better or worse in recent years? The types of music they have on other worlds. She seemed like she’d seen a lot for someone so young, but like a young person, she always seemed to want to know what else was out there that she’d missed.”
“Interesting,” was all Clay could manage.
“She had problems, though. She never spoke of them; that was enough for me to know they were none of my business. I’d be careful about making them your business as well.”
Clay tried to piece everything that was happening together in his head. The planet had no honor. The planet destroyed goodness. This planet was becoming predictable to him. He turned over the lotus in his hand, resolved at last over what he had to do tomorrow.
© 2024 Darrin Snider. All Rights Reserved.
