The batarian and the human thought that was very funny and guffawed loudly. Kim spoke from the side of her mouth. “I’ll take the four-eyed joker on the right. You handle the others. Let’s slam them.”

  After proving herself in the Afterlife Gillian felt confident of her ability to carry out the order and was already in the process of gathering the necessary energy. Having brought her hands up Gillian plucked her targets off the ground. When the street toughs came down it was with considerable force. The human uttered a yelp of pain as both of his ankles shattered. Meanwhile the turian fired a burst of rounds into the air as he landed on his back. He struggled to get up, and was about to do so, when Kim dropped the batarian right on top of him. A shockwave followed and put both out of action.

  Kim spit on the batarian as they passed the heap of bodies. It was an act of contempt that both repelled Gillian and thrilled her at the same time. Because in keeping with the guidance received from Kahlee Sanders and Hendel Mitra she was accustomed to downplaying her biotic abilities in order to be accepted by society at large. So to see an individual like Kim using her talents openly, even proudly, was a revelation. Suddenly she realized that other people should be afraid of her, not the other way around.

  It was almost dark by the time the women arrived in front of a much-abused steel door. Alien hieroglyphics had been etched into the barrier and looked to be very, very old. A human male and an asari were standing out front and in spite of their casual demeanor Gillian could tell that they were guards. The asari palmed a switch and the door rumbled upward to reveal the tunnel beyond.

  The way the guards were looking at her made Gillian feel uncomfortable as Kim took her inside and the barrier closed behind them. “Why were they staring at me?”

  “You’re famous,” Kim replied, as they followed a set of partially buried metal tracks through the wide, dimly lit tunnel. “Here on Omega anyway. More than that you’re a living example of biotic superiority.” That was a new idea to Gillian, who had always thought of herself as a freak rather than a person to be admired.

  Three dusty gyrocycles were parked off to one side of the passageway, along with an open cart and a beat-up ground car. The tunnel came to an abrupt end in front of another heavily guarded door and this one appeared to be new. Even though the heavily armored biotics knew Kim, she was still required to pass a retinal scan. Gillian was asked to remove everything from her pockets and stand with legs spread and arms raised. A loud beep was heard as the guard passed his wand over her chest. He glanced at the terminal located next to him. “The jewel is a data storage device. Please remove it.”

  Gillian was confused. “It’s a what?”

  The guard ignored her response. “Do we have your permission to check the storage device for malware?”

  Gillian looked at Kim and back again. “Sure, I guess so. Honest … I had no idea that it was a storage device.”

  The guard accepted the jewel, dropped it into an opening on his terminal, and eyed the words that appeared on the screen. “No encryption, and no malware. You’re good to go.”

  The jewel popped up out of the receptacle and was returned to Gillian. She zipped both it and the chain into a pocket and made a mental note to open the storage device as soon as she got the chance. “It was a gift,” she said to Kim. “From my father. But I had no idea there was a message on it.”

  Kim smiled. “How nice. You have something to look forward to. Come on, people are waiting for us.”

  They passed through the checkpoint and into the area beyond. It was a great deal more than the played-out mine that Gillian expected. Solid rock had been removed to create a sphere-shaped chamber with a flat floor. The interior surface of the cavern was pockmarked by rows of symmetrical holes, all fronted by a succession of ledges and connected via a spiraling path. As Gillian looked upward she could see people coming and going.

  There was a dome-shaped structure at the center of the vast room, and as Kim led her toward it Gillian thought it looked as if it had been built by a race other than those responsible for the hollowed-out sphere, although there was no way to be certain. “We believe the original cavern served as a nest,” Kim volunteered, as they crossed an open area. “Not that it matters. The main thing is that this place is safe. Or as safe as anything can be on this turd ball. The hotel where we were headquartered earlier was okay, but when this came on the market we jumped on it. And, thanks to the money we stole from T’Loak, we were able to pay cash.”

  There it was again. An unabashed statement of confidence and power. And Gillian couldn’t help but be impressed. The structure in front of them consisted of a roof supported by fluted columns. Judging from appearances it was being used as both a communal meeting room, dining room, and kitchen. There were about fifteen people lounging about and all of them turned to look at the newcomers as Kim led Gillian through the facility and toward the other side of the cavern. And that was when she heard a male voice. “Gillian! It’s me! Nick.”

  Gillian turned to see a familiar figure coming her way. Except that Nick seemed taller somehow, his right shoulder was swathed in bandages, and he was wearing two pistols. That was the sort of thing she would expect of him, as was the big grin, and the kiss on the cheek. “Damn girl, it’s good to see you.”

  And suddenly, after all the days of feeling as if she was alone even when she wasn’t, Gillian felt that she belonged. “Nick,” she said, “your shoulder. What happened?”

  “We were inside T’Loak’s bank making a withdrawal,” he said. “And I zigged when I should have zagged. And speaking of fights … Have you seen the footage of the battle inside the Afterlife? T’Loak’s people sent it out and I recognized you right away.”

  “Zon would like to meet you,” Kim put in. “Nick, you’re welcome to join us if you’d like to.”

  After leaving the dome they crossed an open area to one of the cavelike rooms at ground level. Gillian thought it might be larger than the ones on the levels above but couldn’t be sure. The unconventional space was furnished with conventional furniture, including a round table and six matching chairs. Both of the people who were seated at it rose. The asari who came forward to greet Gillian had blue skin, widely set eyes, and was dressed in a sleek pantsuit. “Welcome! My name is Mythra Zon.”

  Gillian could sense the power of the other woman’s personality and was enveloped by the heady perfume she wore as they exchanged asari-style air kisses. The air crackled with static electricity as the biotics came together and parted. “Please allow me to introduce Rasna Vas Kathar,” Zon said, as she turned to an enviro-suited quarian. “He’s our number two and in charge of technical operations.”

  Gillian shook hands with the quarian, wondered why he had left the fleet, and what his former crew-mates would think about his current activities. “Greetings,” she said. “My quarian name is Gillian Nar Idenna. Or it was. According to Tar Vas Sootha it will be struck from the rolls as of today.”

  The quarian shrugged. “I know Tar and he’s a fool. But even as your name is removed from one list, perhaps it will be added to another.”

  “That’s correct,” Zon said smoothly. “Why don’t you drop that pack and have a seat? Perhaps Cory and Nick would like to join us.”

  Both were quick to accept the invitation and Gillian wasn’t sure if that was because they wanted to do so or felt they had to. She got the distinct impression that people didn’t say “no” to Zon very often.

  “Now,” Zon said, once all of them were seated. “We would like to provide you with some information about our organization. It’s called the Biotic Underground and our goal is to replace the Citadel Council with a biotic meritocracy.”

  Gillian looked at Nick and he smiled. “Welcome home, Gillian. This is where you belong.”

  Unlike the luxurious passenger shuttles Kai Leng had been privileged to fly on from time to time, the transport had the feel of a stripped-down military assault boat. All of the fittings were practical in nature and no effort had been made to please the eye. A pair of human cargo masters were strapped into fold-down seats on the other side of a pile of well-secured crates. They were playing some sort of game on their omni-tools and one of them said “Gotcha!” as he scored points on the other.

  The load process was already under way when Leng had arrived at docking Station 22, been scanned, and allowed to board. The crates were unmarked so there was no telling what they contained. Weapons? Tech? Cash? It was impossible to know.

  What Leng did know was that he was very, very tired. After losing track of Gillian he had returned to the safe house to discover that a message was waiting. The Illusive Man wanted to see him aboard the Cerberus vessel Spirit of Nepal. And there was very little time in which to reach the correct docking arm and board shuttle SN-2. The purpose of the trip being unknown, to Leng at least, although he could hazard a guess. The Illusive Man was in the neighborhood and wanted to discuss the Gillian Grayson sanction. Or the lack of one.

  Leng’s thoughts were interrupted as the pilot made a brief announcement, the shuttle slowed, and stopped shortly thereafter. Leng knew that the SN-2 was inside the Spirit of Nepal’s hangar bay at that point, but couldn’t see anything, because there weren’t any viewports.

  But before he could leave the shuttle it was necessary to seal the bay and pressurize it. A process that would consume at least fifteen minutes. So Leng allowed himself to doze off. He awoke with a start when metal clanged. It felt as if only seconds had passed, but a quick check of his omni-tool revealed that he’d been asleep for half an hour, and during that time all but one of the crates had been unloaded. Leng hit the release on his harness, got up, and left via the rear cargo ramp. The bay was large, but still crowded, thanks to the presence of another transport, this one labeled the SN-1.

  Leng wound his way between stacks of cargo modules and various pieces of equipment to a personnel hatch that opened to admit him. It took a couple of minutes to cycle through the lock and enter the passageway beyond. And there, her face expressionless as always, was Jana. If the Illusive Man’s assistant disapproved of his tardiness there was no sign of it on her finely chiseled face. She said, “Please follow me,” and walked away. Her heels made a staccato rapping sound as they hit the metal deck and Leng wondered how human she really was.

  After following the woman through a maze of passageways and up two levels he was shown into a spacious compartment equipped with a large viewport. Omega could be seen floating beyond. The outer surface of the space station was alive with glittering navigation beacons that made the asteroid look like a royal orb. An irony not lost on Leng.

  Jana said, “Kai Leng is here, sir,” and left. Her heels made a clicking sound that faded away. The Illusive Man was seated with his back to the hatch. When he turned there was a smile on his face. “Thank you for coming. I know you’ve been busy. Please … sit down.

  “As I’m sure you’re aware,” the Illusive Man said, “Aria T’Loak was anything but pleased when Gillian Grayson went on a rampage inside the Afterlife. So she put a price on Gillian’s head. Ten thousand credits dead or alive. Then something interesting happened. T’Loak ordered her people to modify the offer. She’s still willing to pay ten thousand for the girl … but only if she’s alive and in good health. The question is why?”

  Leng was surprised to hear it. And concerned as well. Because if Aria’s mercs wanted to keep Gillian alive that would make killing her that much more difficult. “I have no idea,” he said levelly. “But I did witness an incident that might have a bearing on the situation. After trashing the Afterlife Gillian took refuge in a warehouse occupied by the quarians. And when she came out, a woman was waiting for her. A biotic named Cory Kim.”

  “So you know her?”

  “We were in prison together. As you know, a Cerberus recruiter arranged for our release. I stayed but she left. In any case, Kim spoke with Gillian and they left together. I was hoping for a clean shot but never got one.”

  “That’s interesting,” the Illusive Man observed. “Especially the part about Kim being a biotic. She’s a biotic, Gillian is a biotic, and an organization called the Biotic Underground is on the rise.”

  “Maybe they want to recruit Gillian.”

  “That seems likely,” the Illusive Man mused. “If they do, and Aria’s people want to protect her, your job will become even more difficult.”

  “So my orders are the same?”

  “Yes,” the Illusive Man said. “Find Gillian Grayson and kill her before someone hands her over to Aria. There’s no way to know what our asari friend is up to, but I doubt it will benefit Cerberus.”

  Leng rose to leave. “Understood.”

  “And one more thing …”

  “Yes?”

  “Kahlee Sanders and David Anderson were seen meeting with Aria in the Afterlife. Chances are that the conversation had to do with finding Gillian Grayson and Nick Donahue, but maybe not. Keep your eyes peeled. Don’t forget … Anderson has been in touch with the Council, so there’s a chance that one or more of the members are involved somehow.” The chair whirred and the Illusive Man turned his back on the room. The meeting was over.

  ON OMEGA

  The scope of what the Biotic Underground hoped to accomplish was truly staggering. Rather than simply work their way up Omega’s criminal hierarchy they wanted to take control of everything. And that included both the Citadel and the Council.

  It was difficult to believe that such a thing could be possible and some of Gillian’s skepticism must have been visible on her face as Mythra Zon smiled from the other side of the circular table. “It sounds crazy. I know that. But hear me out.

  “The Citadel Council has been in place for thousands of years, and what have they accomplished? Nothing,” Zon said, “other than dealing with new races such as your own and perpetuating the status quo. Remember, the Citadel, the relays, and all the rest of it were in place before the Council came into being.

  “Nothing lasts forever nor should it,” Zon continued. “We believe that the time for new leadership has arrived. And who better to provide it than biotics? We represent all of the various races, aren’t vested in the existing system, and have extraordinary powers. The kind of abilities that will help us seize control and keep it.”

  Gillian had been a good student while at the Grissom Academy. And one of the axioms that had been drilled into her was “that absolute power corrupts absolutely.” So to replace the multiracial council with a biotic meritocracy struck Gillian as a stupid thing to do. Unless you were Mythra Zon and likely to wind up in charge. So Gillian wasn’t buying the bill of goods that the asari was selling.

  She did need a place to stay however—and a way to get her hands on the Illusive Man. And that raised an important question: Could the Biotic Underground be used? That remained to be seen. The key was to hide her true opinions and say the things Zon wanted to hear. It was the sort of duplicity that she’d seen all around her since leaving the academy for the adult world. “It’s a very audacious plan,” Gillian said brightly. “But how can we make something like that happen?”

  “The process is already under way,” Zon answered confidently. “First we worked to raise our profile. Then we robbed T’Loak’s bank. Nick was critical to our success where that endeavor was concerned. The robbery provided us with an operating budget and the sort of respect normally reserved for larger, more entrenched groups. Now we’re going to consume or destroy other organizations until we have complete control of Omega. Once that has been accomplished we will go after the Council. And you could play an important part in making it happen. You’re famous thanks to the battle in the Afterlife and the bounty on your head. That could come in handy.”

  “I’d like to help in any way that I can,” Gillian said earnestly. “Can I make a suggestion?”

  Gillian saw what might have been a look of caution appear in Zon’s eyes. The asari had a need to recruit troops, especially Level 3 biotics, but wanted to retain leadership. She couldn’t say that, however, and was forced to acquiesce. “What did you have in mind?”

  “There are lots of organizations on Omega,” Gillian began. “And by tackling the most prominent one right off the top the Underground was able to gain instant credibility.”

  Gillian had been listening. Zon nodded approvingly.

  “So that raises the question of which group to tackle next,” Gillian continued. “Conventional wisdom might suggest the Blue Suns or a similar gang. But I would like to suggest an alternative. I’m thinking of a secret organization that has more reach than the Suns do, is a clear threat to all but one of the Council races, and if defeated would clear the way for the Biotic Underground to gain more influence.”

  Zon appeared to be genuinely intrigued. “And the name of this organization is?”

  Gillian smiled grimly. “Cerberus.”

  “It sounds good,” Kathar said, as he spoke for the first time. “But unlike the Suns, Cerberus has no clearly defined presence on Omega. What would we attack?”

  “The best way to kill a monster is to cut off its head,” Gillian said grimly. “And in this case that means the Illusive Man.”

  Gillian was watching Zon’s eyes to see how she would react and saw a succession of emotions flicker through them. Doubt, fear, and greed. Because in spite of everything Zon knew, Gillian was correct. If the Underground managed to destroy Cerberus it would be a very big deal indeed. And a natural lead-in to eliminating Aria T’Loak. “Okay,” the asari said hesitantly. “But how?”

  It was the question that Zon was supposed to ask—and Gillian felt a momentary sense of satisfaction. Then, based on a plan that seemed to create itself as she spoke, Gillian told the biotics how they could kill the Illusive Man.