Wonder of wonders.

  “This is amazing,” he told Juri. “There’s nothing here that should work, but I’ve never experienced flavors like this before. I could eat this bread all day.”

  “You’re not the first to have your world shook,” she said. “They bake the hoolabread in stone pits buried underground over to the headlands. No different than they a’ done since colonization.”

  “The old ways,” Noor added. “That’s what separates the peninsula from the rest of Huryo. They cling to the past out here. It’s an obsession. It can be frustrating, but it’s also to be admired.”

  I might, if I planned to make a life here.

  Ryllen savored the first and last bowl of rimba stew he ever planned to eat. Halfway through the bowl, he felt a tap on his left thigh and caught Mee’s less-than-discreet eyes. He studied the table: Juri and Noor were happily distracted with their stew.

  Ryllen dropped a hand on his lap and waited until Mee slipped him a small object. It was a vial the size of his fingertip; inside, liquid with the golden hue of urine.

  Very nice. As long as he made enough of these, we’ll be good.

  Ryllen pocketed the vial and resumed his stew.

  “It’s outstanding,” he told Juri when she asked if he wanted a second round. “But I’ve filled myself with bread. This was a good meal. Back to the prim tomorrow, I suppose.”

  “And early to sea,” Noor said. “I want to hit the migration stream before the sun clears the horizon. We’ll be stocking for the next three clients. It’s going to be a full day.”

  Ryllen knew what he was leading to, and it was a moment that came with a certain morsel of regret. This might have been a good life. Simple, repetitive, far from trouble. Fill the hold with prim, unload the prim, return to sea. Eat bizarre concoctions like rimba stew and learn to respect feudal villages who had no interest in what lay beyond Huryo. He might even avoid dying in the near future.

  The attraction was real, but Ryllen had no intention to end his journey here. Every instinct shouted the truth. Every trip to the abyss made clear. He had more to do. People to kill, history to change.

  “Heading back to the Lux, are you, Captain?”

  “I thought I might indulge some poems and turn in early. Yes.”

  “Not much for the poetry myself,” Juri added, “but a strong, warm stew puts me in the mind of happy dreams.”

  Noor counted out coins and stacked them beside the lamp.

  Our last meal, Ryllen thought. I hope you’ll forgive me, Captain.

  “I’m wired. I think I’d like to take a long walk. Maybe through the marshes. The last time I did that, I was being led to a pond.”

  Mee pushed back his chair. “Can I join you?”

  “I’d like the company.”

  Noor grunted. “I hope you two are not conspiring.”

  “Of course not, Captain. Royal talked sense into me. I think it will do me good to walk the village and work through my anger. I know where the Scroll is, but I won’t go near him.”

  “Good. I expect both of you on the Lux within an hour. Yes?”

  “We’ll be there.”

  On the way out, Ryllen glanced toward the bar, where the deputy named Len held court with another villager. They caught each other’s eyes for a second.

  Give me five minutes. Don’t go anywhere, asshole.

  Outside, he watched the Captain and Juri walk abreast into the night. He wanted to say good-bye, but he didn’t know how. It was a word he never had a chance to utter when his mother threw him out of the Jee household. Not in the moments before Kai Durin died in a wave of flash pegs. Not before the Splinter dragged him across universes. Not in the moments of war when death was certain. Not before the Chancellors took Exeter Woolsey away.

  No good-byes.

  Just hello and prepare to die.

  “Everything is ready,” Mee said as they huddled outside the tavern. “I hid the crossbows where we agreed. No one saw me.”

  He opened his palm and studied the vial.

  “Great job. You’re sure you gave it the right mix?”

  “Yes. The trax will ignite on impact.”

  Ryllen listened carefully when Cibe, the trax supplier in the village of Orek, explained her process on handling and transferring trax into the distribution bars. She also warned him about the volatility of too high a concentration.

  “Give me three vials and I’ll do the rest. You know where to position yourself at the hour?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re sure you can hit the target?”

  “Of course, Royal.” He glanced at the poitnois. “It’s the largest target around these parts.”

  “Remember, the objective is to create a distraction to draw him out onto the balcony. If you’re lucky, you’ll have a clean shot. If not, we go to stage two.”

  “I have it memorized. I’ve been waiting for so many years.”

  “I know, but if you muck up the next twenty minutes, you’ll probably be waiting the rest of your life. Off to your position before we start to look suspicious.”

  Ryllen felt genuine empathy for the first mate. He knew all about the addiction to revenge and how it blinded a man to reason. He also knew Mee wasn’t the sort who was capable of seeing his campaign through to a successful end.

  I hope you’re able to leave with the Lux.

  Ryllen wasn’t counting on it. What was coming next might be more effective if Mee turned into a martyr.

  He reentered the tavern and made a line toward the deputy.

  “We need to speak.”

  The deputy’s eyes blossomed.

  “We do? About?”

  “Earlier, I couldn’t say what was on my mind. My crew is ignorant to these matters.”

  “They are? What matters?”

  “The off-worlders. I know who they are and what they want. I also know your Lord Vaun is in danger, and I can prove it.”

  Len the deputy gasped.

  “You do say. I … you … how I can trust you?”

  “I’m well known, and I’ve been fighting these men for years. If your Lord doesn’t believe my story, he can have me killed. But he’ll believe. All I’ll have to do is tell him my real name.”

  “You’re not Royal? I see. I’ll have to consult my shift commander. I’m not high enough to schedule an audience with Lord …”

  “Yes, you are. Show some cudfrucking initiative. Take me to Lord Vaun. His life is in your hands.”

  34

  T HEY WAITED BENEATH THE POITNOIS. The “stand-to,” the man who guarded the lift, looked at Ryllen and the deputy as if he wished to thrash them both.

  “It is after hours,” he said with a dismissive smirk toward Len. “Lord Vaun is relaxing with his children. You stepped above your place. Did you report the off-worlder to your shift commander?”

  “No. I believe this man’s claims require the Lord’s immediate attention.” The deputy leaned in without stepping onto the landing. “If Lord Vaun is in danger, aren’t we all?”

  The stand-to did not impress Ryllen. Other than good posture and a condescending sneer, he seemed no more intimidating than any other backwater Huryan. He studied Ryllen head to toe and tapped his left ear.

  “Misa, respond.”

  Ryllen took note of the micro-comm. He suspected the tech inside the poitnois far exceeded anything allotted to villagers.

  The stand-to did not wait long.

  “Misa, I have an off-worlder requesting an audience with the Lord. He claims the Lord is in danger.” After a pause, he continued. “No. Different.” He waited again and asked Ryllen: “Do you have evidence to support your claim?”

  “Proof. Someone will try to kill Lord Vaun tonight if I don’t speak with him first.”

  “This is highly unusual. Misa will consult with the Lord.”

  “Who is Misa?”

  “Lord’s personal secretary.”

  A silent moment passed. A few villagers, leaving town for the night, slowed at the landing and bowed before resuming their walk home.

  Ryllen could not resist.

  “A question, as someone who does not understand your ways. Why do the villagers bow to you, when Lord Vaun lives above?”

  The stand-to offered neither expression nor response. Ryllen turned to the deputy, who fidgeted like someone who realized he overstepped his bounds and wished he were somewhere else.

  “Len? Why the bow?”

  “Tradition. Years ago, Lord Vaun used to receive villagers here. He ended the practice – no one remembers why – but he asked for the recognition to continue.”

  A living god. The man thinks he’s a Chancellor.

  The stand-in grunted.

  “Very good,” he told the Lord’s secretary. “Send down the lift and prepare the Greeting Room.” He tapped his left ear. “Lord Vaun has agreed to see you, but given that you are disrupting his family life, he demands your information be worth his time. If he determines it is not, he will have you both killed for your impertinence.”

  The deputy gasped. Ryllen understood the poor little man’s fear: Len brought nothing to the audience beyond his misguided ambition.

  Cables ran on a vertical framework as the lift lowered into place. The stand-in flipped up two latches and pulled back the folding door. He motioned for the visitors to enter.

  “I will call for a cart, in case you return with a knife in your chest.”

  Ryllen loved the dramatics. They were best spoken by those who thought too highly of their status. If his calculations were correct, the stand-to would not see another sunrise.

  He built calculations on an assumption. A dangerous strategy but one he learned fighting the Swarm. If the trends pointed in a certain direction – even circumstantial – the smart soldier ignored them at his peril. Ryllen saw enough. He heard enough.

  I’m right about this. I have to be.

  He opened his palm and glanced at the timorex, a solar-powered timepiece Captain Noor gave him the first day aboard Hannah Lux. The hour neared. Mee should be in position. He needed to maintain a steady hand and a firm spine, neither of which Ryllen was certain the man possessed.

  Fires in the marsh.

  A crossbow with spears doused in a combustible grade of trax.

  The show had to be effective and begin at the top of the hour.

  As the lift approached its destination, Len the deputy appeared on the verge of hyperventilation.

  “I’m doing my duty. Yes. My duty to the Lord. Oh. Oh. I knew I should have reported you to my shift commander. He’ll make me pay for this. I’ll …”

  The door folded open. A broad-shouldered man greeted them in a full-length, belted robe and a crossbow slung over his shoulder. He nodded aside. A woman who vaguely reminded Ryllen of Kara Syung but without the polish entered the elevator and ordered Ryllen to stand with his feet apart. Her pat-down turned up nothing, but she insisted he turn over the timepiece.

  “My name is Misa,” she said. “Follow me.”

  They stepped out onto the wraparound balcony and turned due left. The secretary stopped outside the first door.

  “When you enter, you will not speak. You will proceed forward to the green pillows. You will take a seat. Do not talk until Lord Vaun addresses you. Failure to follow this procedure will end the audience. Am I understood?”

  “In perfect Engleshe,” Ryllen said.

  The colors, fabrics, and artwork dazzled in an otherwise compact and narrow room. Vases both Huryan and Hokki, perhaps dating back even before colonization. Animal hides like area rugs. Bronze sculptures on pedestals. Glow lamps in three shades.

  At the head, a man who bore a passing resemblance to Ryllen’s own Scroll sat buddha-style on a bed of giant pillows. His floral robe appeared spun of silk, and his putan of velvet.

  Ryllen held his laughter in check. Though the décor was messianic and the former Scroll a cartoonish figure, Ryllen did not forget the captain’s words of warning: Do not underestimate these people.

  To that end, his careful eye took strategic note of the Huryans. The secretary positioned herself to his left flank, guarding a wide door Ryllen assumed led deeper into the house. To his right, beyond the deputy, a guard stood silent. No crossbow, but crawler knives in his belt. Two more guards slipped in quietly behind. For the sake of argument, he deduced both carried crossbows.

  Four guards. No windows.

  The truckload of a man on those pillows commanded more than his share of the oxygen, but Ryllen saw the truth: Vaun was paranoid. All this security despite holding absolute control over the region?

  He’s scared. He’ll believe anything.

  Ryllen and the deputy sat on the green pillows as ordered.

  “You.” Lord Vaun pointed to the deputy. “Why did you interrupt my pleasant evening? What is your name?”

  “All apologies, Lord Vaun. My name is Len Phoo. I am blue. Third shift. I serve you with my life, Lord Vaun. When I heard you were in danger … this man told me … I felt obligated to warn you.”

  “Ah. To protect me because … I have no protection?” He grinned. “Why did you violate protocol?”

  “Time, sir. I thought …”

  “You thought to receive a perk. You had best hope this man’s information is useful. If not, your perk will be a transfer to Lister. Or, if you prefer, I’ll have your throat slit. It will be the less painful option.”

  The wide-bodied creature addressed Ryllen:

  “What qualifies you to make wild claims of my imminent demise?”

  “My claims are not wild, Lord Vaun. You’ve already seen the face of your enemy, he just didn’t present himself that way. I know better, and I can prove it.”

  “What is your credibility, other than being an off-worlder?”

  “You know me.”

  “I do?”

  “My name is Ryllen Jee. I am the most wanted man in this system. I have killed thousands of people, and I have fought your enemy. That is my credibility.”

  Ryllen heard footsteps behind come closer, but Lord Vaun raised a hand. The footsteps halted.

  “I don’t know who you are,” he said. “But you are not Ryllen Jee. He is dead. He was burned to death in a pond near Corvaal’s Bay on the far side many days ago.”

  “Did I? Yes, I was imprisoned in that pond. I was tortured by a man not unlike yourself. But my allies found me. They planted all the necessary evidence to convince the authorities. I’m sure you have the tech to confirm my identity in minutes. You could alert Quanteel and the KumTaan.”

  “An intriguing story. Yes, I could unravel it in minutes. In the meantime, appease my curiosity. If a beast like you were rescued and your death sufficiently falsified, why remain on Huryo? Why not continue your acts of brutality elsewhere? And why, forever why, would you care enough to warn me of imminent danger?”

  Ryllen loved arrogant assholes. They were the easiest to dupe. Still, he owed something to the Huryans who gave him a chance.

  “Before I answer your questions – and don’t worry, you will be terrified by the time I’m done – I need to make a request, Lord Vaun. I arrived in D’haan aboard the Hannah Lux. It is a trawler you know well. I want the record to be clear: No one on that boat knew my true identity. They were not complicit in my actions. They don’t know I’m here now. They have honorable intent and should be allowed to continue their work without suspicion.”

  “Hmm. If you are who you claim, I shouldn’t believe a word.”

  “I believe it’s true, Lord Vaun,” the deputy said. “Royal … um, Ryllen Jee came to me in complete confidence. He said his crew knew nothing of these matters.”

  Lord Vaun wet his lips.

  “Did I speak to you, deputy?”

  “No, Lord Vaun. All apologies.”

  The goliath shifted on his pillows.

  “Well then, Ryllen Jee, answer my questions. Your fate – and this deputy’s – rest on what you say next. I have had a tiring day.”

  Lounging about this place? Eating more than your fair share? It must be exhausting.

  Ryllen contained his growing disgust and began his story.

  Time for quality bullshit.

  “When I was rescued from the pond, I was given the opportunity to leave. I have allies outside the system. I chose to remain. I decided to take my new opportunity at life and put my crimes behind me. I joined the crew of the Hannah Lux to live a quiet life as a fisherman. I grew up on Hokkaido, so I know the seas well.

  “In effect, I went into an exile of my choosing. I need to come to terms with my crimes. The Scroll started me down that path. Lord Vaun, I have spent the last ten years of my life shedding other people’s blood. I cannot change it, and I deserve to be killed for the horror I inflicted. But as I said, I was given a new opportunity to redeem myself before the end. I had intended to do just that. I was going to live a simple, honest life.

  “Then I saw them come. They travel by wormhole. I heard of their visits to the villages. I recognized their description. You held an audience for one of them just yesterday. Am I correct?”

  Lord Vaun hesitated, as if processing the details.

  “I am the one who asks the questions. But yes, a man from another colony made a brief visit.”

  “If I am not mistaken, he asked few questions and did not state his purpose beyond the notion of searching for other off-worlders.”

  “Continue.”

  “You have no doubt heard from other Lords across the peninsula who have encountered similar men.”

  “Go on.”

  “These men are scouts for an organized network of pirates called the Talons.” Ryllen thought that was a nice touch. “They existed long before the Collectorate fell, but their ruthless behavior was kept in check so long as the Chancellors remained in power. They belong to many worlds, and they have been gathering ships, weapons, and clients over the past several years. Unlike the smugglers who passed quietly through Huryo in the old days, the Talons kill, rape, and pillage everywhere they go. They take forceable control of isolated, low-tech regions on colonies and moons. Any place where the locals cannot fight back and there is no military to oppose them.