“Nick? Really?”

  “Yes, really. We know about the fight at the Afterlife. Everybody does. And we’d like you to join our organization.”

  “How did you find me?” Gillian demanded suspiciously.

  “That was easier than you might think,” the other woman responded. “Aria T’Loak is offering ten thousand for you. Dead or alive. We offered fifteen thousand but only if you were alive. A street vendor saw you enter the warehouse last night.”

  “You have that kind of money?”

  “Yes, we do,” Kim replied cheerfully. “We withdrew it from T’Loak’s private bank! And she came after us. But we’re still around. Here, put this stuff on, and keep the hood up. Nobody will recognize you that way. And we need to lose your tail. He’s watching from a passageway on the other side of the street. No, don’t look. Let him think we’re in the dark. That will help us give him the slip.”

  “A bounty hunter?” Gillian inquired as she pulled the lightweight robe on over her clothes.

  “No,” Kim replied. “Kai Leng and I spent time in an Alliance prison camp together. Cerberus got us out. He stayed in the organization; I left it.”

  Gillian felt a sudden flood of hope. Cerberus! Here was a possible link … But she would have to be careful. Mistakes had been made the night before. Stupid mistakes. And she didn’t want to repeat them. “Do you know where this Leng person lives?” Gillian inquired, as she pulled a pair of goggles over her eyes.

  Kim frowned. “One of our people will follow him. Why?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Gillian replied. “Thank you, Cory. Please lead the way.”

  Kai Leng had been watching the quarian warehouse from the other side of the street for hours and had nothing to show for the effort. He was still upset with himself for missing the kill the night before. The way Gillian Grayson had come charging out of the club caught him by surprise, but he was supposed to be better than that.

  As a self-imposed punishment for the failure Leng resolved to wait outside the warehouse until his target emerged, even if that took a full day. But he was tired, hungry, and his resolve was beginning to fade.

  Suddenly Leng’s pulse quickened as the door to the warehouse opened and a human female emerged. Was it Gillian? Leng brought the sniper rifle up for a quick look and, as the crosshairs floated over the woman’s face, he saw that yes, his target was right there in front of him. Should he take the shot? And risk return fire from the quarian guards? Or follow Gillian until she was well clear of the warehouse?

  Then, before a decision could be made, a second female stepped in to block his shot. Leng swore, then swore again, as the shock of recognition registered on his brain. Because he knew the second woman. Or had during the time both of them were confined to an Alliance prison. She was a biotic named Cory Kim, and more than that, an ex-lover. But that was ancient history. What was she doing on Omega? And why was she talking to Gillian?

  Leng was still trying to come up with a plausible hypothesis when both women walked away. His first impulse was to follow. But what if Cory had backup? A person or persons assigned to watch her six? Anything was possible. So Leng forced himself to take thirty seconds and scan the area around him for anyone or anything that looked suspicious. Not an easy task on Omega where just about everyone could constitute a threat. But the effort was fruitless.

  It would have been nice to take more time, but if he did there was a good chance that Cory and Gillian would lose themselves in the crowd. And judging from the pack on the teenager’s back she wasn’t planning to return. So Leng collapsed the rifle, slung it across his back, and took up the chase. The key was to stay back, but not too far back, lest he lose the women to a sudden twist or turn.

  There was plenty of foot traffic, which worked in his favor part of the time, but also made it difficult to see, thereby keeping Leng on edge. Although they were mostly healed his wounds were still painful at times. Fortunately neither of the females seemed to be concerned about the possibility of a tail, and never took the time to glance back over their shoulders.

  Such were Leng’s thoughts as a group of ten or fifteen youngsters surged out of a side passageway in front of him. They were chasing another teen, or so it appeared, as they shouted incomprehensible gobbledygook and their quarry led them in a circle. Then, just as quickly as they had appeared, the youngsters were gone. And as Leng looked up the street he realized that the two women had disappeared as well. Was that a coincidence? Or had he just witnessed some street theater staged for his benefit? There was no way to know.

  Leng sighed. He would go back to the safe house, get some rest, and visit the Beggar King in the morning. Having located Gillian once he was confident he could do so again—if a bounty hunter didn’t find her first. The possibility of that brought a smile to his face and made him feel better. Positive thinking. That was the key.

  It was late afternoon by the time Anderson, Kahlee, and Hendel arrived at the quarian warehouse. The trip had taken longer than any of them would have preferred because there weren’t any addresses on Omega, some of the streets were blocked off, and others led to dead ends. All of which made for a very frustrating and time-consuming journey.

  Finally, having arrived in front of the warehouse, Hendel went forward to seek admission. A guard listened to his request and chose to enter the building rather than radio the request to her superior. A sure sign that she thought the matter was sensitive and didn’t want Hendel to hear her end of the conversation. The quarian returned five minutes later. Her voice was neutral. “Follow me, please.”

  “Can my friends come as well?”

  “Yes.”

  Hendel, Anderson, and Kahlee followed the slim, slightly built female into the dimly lit building and over to an informal office where a second quarian rose to greet them. “Welcome,” he said. “My name is Tar Vas Sootha. I’m in charge here … I understand you have some questions regarding Gillian Nar Idenna. Please sit down.”

  Hendel had given his name to the guard but reintroduced himself and his companions. Tar nodded. “You are listed in our records as Hendel Vas Idenna. And you are considered to be an honored member of the ship Idenna. Were it not so I would have refused to meet with you.”

  “Thank you,” Hendel replied. “As I told the guard, we are looking for Gillian Nar Idenna. She came to Omega on her own—and might have sought sanctuary here.”

  “She did,” Tar said gravely. “And we were happy to have Gillian here until she entered the Afterlife club and got into a fight with Aria T’Loak’s bodyguards. Are you aware of that?”

  “Yes,” Hendel said soberly. “We are.”

  “Then you know that Gillian killed a number of people, fled the premises, and that T’Loak put a ten-thousand-credit bounty on her head.”

  “That’s very regrettable,” Hendel allowed, “but I know this girl. If she killed people it was in self-defense. Is she here? We’d like to speak with her.”

  “No,” Tar replied. “She isn’t. You say she acted in self-defense. And that’s what Gillian claims. But what else would she say? T’Loak’s spokesperson called the attack ‘unprovoked.’ And we have no way to know what the truth of the matter is. But having lived and worked among us you know that many people despise our race—and that makes our presence here on Omega rather tenuous. So Gillian was asked to leave.”

  Hendel jumped up out of his chair and drew his pistol. It was aimed at Tar’s head. “You rotten bastard! You knew there was a price on Gillian’s head and you put her on the street. Not because she had done anything to you but in order to kiss up to T’Loak and the rest of the scum on this worthless pus ball. I should blow your frigging head off!”

  “Hendel,” Kahlee said, as she rose to intervene. “Please put the gun away. Killing him won’t solve anything. Please … What’s done is done. We’ll find her.”

  Slowly, incrementally, Hendel allowed Kahlee to push his gun arm down. And a good thing too … because two heavily armed quarians had arrived by then—having been summoned by a means unknown. “You’d better hope that Gillian survives,” Hendel said, as he holstered the pistol. “Because if she doesn’t I’m going to come for you.”

  “Show them out,” Tar said coldly. “And inform the guards. If any of these people show up again, shoot them.” The meeting was over.

  It was evening, Afterlife was starting to fill up, and T’Loak was in a bad mood. And for good reason. Though superficial in nature, residual issues related to the bank robbery and the rampage the night before had taken up time and energy that would have been better spent on other things. Such were the crime lord’s thoughts as Immo entered the U-shaped enclosure reserved for her on the second floor and waited for the asari to acknowledge his presence. Aria was well aware that Immo had thrown himself at the deranged biotic the night before and knew that kind of loyalty was hard to come by. She forced a smile. “Yes, Tann. What’s up?”

  “Some customers would like to speak with you.”

  T’Loak raised an eyebrow. “None of them are crazy biotics I trust?”

  It was a joke but Immo wasn’t known for his sense of humor. “No, ma’am. One of them is a human named David Anderson. The other is a female named Kahlee Sanders.”

  T’Loak knew both individuals fairly well, having held them prisoner on Omega during the widespread search for Paul Grayson. She had been acting on behalf of the Illusive Man at the time, as well as herself, on the theory that Grayson was responsible for Liselle’s death.

  Now, in the wake of the bank robbery and Shella’s account of what actually occurred that night, it seemed likely that a Cerberus operative named Manning had slit her daughter’s throat. Because he enjoyed such things? Or on orders from the Illusive Man? Given the extent of their involvement Kahlee and Anderson might have relevant information. T’Loak nodded. “Send them up.”

  Immo hadn’t met the humans before and looked surprised. Or as surprised as he was capable of looking. “Armed? Or unarmed?”

  “They can keep their weapons. I have no idea what they want. But they aren’t assassins.”

  Immo said, “Yes, ma’am,” and disappeared.

  T’Loak took a sip of the drink at her elbow and looked out at the asari dancers on the ring beyond. They were young. And hungry. The way she’d been back when the nightspot’s original owner hired her as an exotic dancer. That had been a mistake because what had been his club then was her club now. Was that how it would end, she wondered? Would one of the lithe females performing on the ring in front of her find a way to bring her down? Maybe. But not yet. Not for quite a while.

  There was a slight disturbance as Immo arrived with the humans in tow and ordered T’Loak’s bodyguards to let them pass. The crime lord was seated on a curving bench-style seat. She waved the visitors over. “Please … sit down. It’s been awhile.”

  “Yes, it has,” Anderson agreed. “The last time we were on Omega your hospitality was a little over the top.”

  T’Loak laughed. “There were locks on the doors. I admit that. But the rooms were nice.”

  “Much nicer than where we’re staying now,” Kahlee allowed. “Let us know if you have a vacancy.”

  “I’ll keep you in mind,” T’Loak said. “So, what brings you to the Afterlife? Or is this a social call?”

  “I wish it were,” Anderson said soberly. “We’re here regarding Paul Grayson’s daughter.”

  T’Loak allowed an eyebrow to rise. “What about her?”

  “Her name is Gillian,” Kahlee replied. “And she’s the biotic who killed your employees last night.”

  T’Loak frowned. “You’re serious? That was Grayson’s daughter?”

  “Yes,” Kahlee said. “It was. Not his biological daughter, but his daughter nonetheless. Gillian demonstrated biotic abilities at a very young age. The Illusive Man became aware of her and ordered Grayson to play the part of her father and enroll her at the Grissom Academy. Grayson did as he was told, but at some point over the years he came to care for her the way a real father would, and a bond was formed. Meanwhile her biotic abilities continued to develop, and based on what took place here, we believe that she had new amps installed.”

  “She killed two of my best biotics,” T’Loak said sourly. “And she’s going to pay for that.”

  “That’s why we came,” Anderson put in. “We know about the price on her head—and we’re hoping that you would be willing to remove it. Then, if we can find her, we’ll make sure that she gets the help she needs. Gillian is very impetuous—and determined to kill the Illusive Man. In fact, if I had to guess, I’ll bet that is why she came here. She’s looking for a way to find him.”

  That piqued T’Loak’s interest. “Why?”

  “Because the Illusive Man killed her father,” Kahlee answered. “She wants revenge.”

  T’Loak thought about that. Ironically enough it seemed that she and Gillian Grayson had some complementary goals. The girl wanted to strike back at the Illusive Man, and assuming that Shella was telling the truth, so did she. But rather than share that with Anderson and Kahlee, T’Loak chose to keep the information to herself. “So there’s something you want,” T’Loak said. “And, as it happens, there’s something I want as well. Perhaps we can come to some sort of an agreement.”

  Kahlee frowned. “What, exactly, are you looking for?”

  “Information,” T’Loak replied. “Grayson wiped his computer just before he left Omega. But there was evidence that he sent a copy of everything he had to someone off-station first. Do you know who that person was?”

  * * *

  As it happened, Kahlee did know who that person was. Because just prior to running for his life Grayson had sent a copy of his hard drive to her. And she still had the information. Files that Grayson had been updating for years. Notes that included everything he knew about Cerberus. That included lists of agents, the location of key facilities, and safe houses on a dozen planets. All compromised with a single keystroke. “Yes,” Kahlee answered. “Grayson sent the contents of his computer to me.”

  T’Loak smiled. “Of course he did. And, being a thrifty sort of person, you still have that information.”

  “She does,” Anderson acknowledged. “But while it was an incredible intelligence coup at the time, the data is meaningless now. The Illusive Man knew how unstable Grayson was—and knew he was desperate. So agents were warned, codes were changed, and safe houses were closed. All within a matter of days. I’m reluctant to say that, because we’d like to arrange some sort of trade, but the truth would soon become apparent.”

  “You’re very forthcoming,” T’Loak said with only a trace of sarcasm. “And I appreciate that. However, even though the operational data is no longer accurate I’m looking for historical information. And history is what it is. The Illusive Man can’t change that.”

  T’Loak was investigating something. An event of importance to her. But what? Kahlee saw no harm in asking. “What are you after? Maybe we can help.”

  “It’s a private matter,” T’Loak responded dismissively. “For the moment anyway. But I see the makings of a deal here. Can you access the Grayson files from Omega?”

  Kahlee gave the matter a moment’s thought. “Yes, if I can get a link to the extranet on the Citadel, I’ll be able to pull them up. Once I do it should be a simple matter to download them here.”

  “Excellent,” T’Loak said. “If you have no objection to working with one of my communications specialists we can make sure that the process goes smoothly.”

  “Okay,” Anderson said cautiously. “But you mentioned the possibility of a deal. What sort of terms did you have in mind?”

  T’Loak nodded. “Here’s my proposal … I will order my people to put out the word. I still want Gillian Grayson, and am still willing to pay ten thousand credits for her, but only if she’s alive and in good health. In the meantime you will download the files.”

  Kahlee shook her head. “No way … Once you have Gillian in custody I will download the files. Not before.”

  T’Loak smiled thinly. “That’s what I meant to say.”

  Kahlee didn’t believe that. Not for a minute. But she was quite satisfied with the terms of the deal. The agreement meant they were much more likely to find Gillian than if they tackled the job by themselves. Kahlee forced a smile. “Yes, of course.”

  “But remember,” T’Loak said gravely. “You must promise that if I deliver Gillian Grayson into your hands you will keep her confined. Should you fail I would be very angry.”

  “We’d like to avoid that,” Anderson said dryly.

  “See that you do,” T’Loak said sternly. “Now, can I buy you a drink?”

  ELEVEN

  ON OMEGA

  Gillian was impressed by the smooth manner in which a street gang had been used to block the Cerberus agent who had been following her. Because of her father? Yes, probably, although Gillian wasn’t sure what the Illusive Man hoped to gain. It wasn’t as if she had access to secret information. However, if the biotics were able to track the man called Leng perhaps Gillian would find a way to take advantage of the situation.

  Before she could consider such a possibility it would first be necessary to deal with the Biotic Underground. They wanted her. That’s what Cory Kim claimed. But did Gillian want them? Not that she had a great deal of choice given the need to hide. Such were Gillian’s thoughts as she followed Kim through the surreal cityscape that was Omega.

  The fake sunshine had started to fade as a computer somewhere began to dim the lights for the comfort of races that were diurnal or nocturnal and still required alternating periods of light in order to get sufficient rest. So as the women followed an ancient sluiceway west, all sorts of lights and signs began to blink on. There were shadows, lots of them, which gave predators a place to hide. Gillian knew that and couldn’t help but feel a sense of concern.

  Not Kim though. She maintained a steady stream of chatter as they walked along, most of which was centered on Nick’s exploits, and seemed to be unaware of the danger that lurked all around. That struck Gillian as strange until a trio of street toughs appeared up ahead. They positioned themselves to block the path and the one in the middle did the talking. The turian was wearing armor and carrying an assault rifle. “Good evening, ladies … We’re collecting donations for a good cause, which is to say ourselves.”