| |
––––––––
Time blurred into a pattern of sleeping and waking. Without access to the implant, I couldn’t keep track of how long had passed, so I had to rely on a routine of sleep, exercise, and san to try and track when I needed to eat. I already knew hunger could be brought on by boredom.
I don’t know how long I spent alone, but I do know I was half-way through a defensive kata when the bed tilted sideways and folded back into the wall. I slowed, letting the pattern take me around in a circle so I could watch the rest of my room fold itself away, leaving just the bare walls that had greeted me when I’d first arrived. By the time the last panel had closed, I was standing with my back to the panels I knew contained equipment.
I waited, not entirely surprised when the wall nearest the control panel proved to be a door. Sandoval stood, centered in the doorway, his eyes taking in the defensive stance I’d settled into, his lips twitching in amusement.
“I didn’t come to fight,” he said. “Mack is waiting.”
He turned away, and I walked cautiously to the door, hesitating when I reached it. I didn’t hesitate for long, because Tens reached in and grabbed me by the bicep, hauling me into the corridor beside him.
“Let’s not keep him waiting,” he murmured, and I felt my implant go live.
Tens caught my expression, as I looked back at the room.
“They’re shielded,” he said. “Mine didn’t work, either.”
If Sandoval found that entertaining, he didn’t show it, so we followed him, ending up in the same room as we’d seen when he’d first contacted us. Mack stood when he saw us, but Sandoval waved him to return to his seat, and the two men stationed behind him, reached forward.
Mack glared at Sandoval, and evaded the hands of the men trying to restrain him.
“Cutter,” he said, and then, as his gaze travelled to Tens. “Tens.”
There was great relief in the greeting, but he was seized as he made to move towards us, and, when Tens and I went to close the distance, we each felt a hand take hold of us, and the muzzle of a Blazer pressed hard into our sides.
“So,” I managed. “This is not a friendly meeting, then?”
Sandoval looked back, scowling at his men, but not ordering them to stand down.
“These are negotiations,” he said. “Friendship has nothing to do with it.”
Well, alrighty then.
I stayed frozen, watching as Mack did the same. He had a Blazer tucked hard against each kidney. As far as I could see, he wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’d like a coffee,” Tens said, lifting his chin towards the table. “That is protocol, is it not? A coffee while we discuss terms?”
Sandoval turned his head, taking in Tens’ face, before he nodded, and looked towards the door on the opposite side of the room, where two more troopers stood.
“Make it so,” he said, and waved Tens and I towards the seats around the table.
At his gesture, I was released, and the pressure in my side vanished. Mack was released at the same time I was, one of the troops giving his shoulder a pat as he stepped away. He glared at her, but returned to his seat, as we joined him. Sandoval waited until we were all seated, before he moved to join us.
“As you can see,” he said, addressing Mack as he approached, “they are unharmed.”
“I can see,” Mack said. “What about the rest of my people?”
People, I noted, not crew. I saw Sandoval register the choice of phrase, and wondered what he made of it.
“I see,” he said. “Your people are fine.”
He turned a disapproving gaze on me.
“Including the two you had off the grid.”
I tensed, wondering what had happened, when he’d found Delight and Pritchard.
“On the whole, I thought it best we leave them where they were, but that means,” he said, turning to Tens, “that you lied.”
I opened my mouth to say that, if he had lied, so had I, but Sandoval was ahead of me, because he turned back.
“And you helped him.”
Now, it was Mack’s turn to shift uncomfortably, but the number of weapons that had been raised to cover us, made moving a very unwise choice—and we’d all grown tired of being injured with nothing gained... or even with something gained. Sandoval looked at Mack.
“What do you suggest we do with them?” he asked, and I watched Mack’s expression tighten.
“Personally, I’d say they’ve done their jobs well,” he said, and hesitated as the gun barrels shifted to focus on him. Sandoval indicated he should continue. “They are loyal to me, not you, and they protected my interests as I expected. You surely know how valuable loyalty is?”
Sandoval looked thoughtful.
“Then how do I know I can trust you?” he asked.
“Because you know that I’m bargaining as hard for my interests as you are for yours, which means that whatever agreement we finally reach will be something I want as much as you do.”
“And your reputation relies on you keeping your bargains.” Sandoval’s tone was not a question, but Mack nodded all the same.
“Yes.”
“So, your people will not gainsay it.”
“No,” Mack said, and his voice said he had complete faith that neither Tens nor I would cross him.
Given my history of doing exactly that, I wondered where this faith came from.
“You have never broken a contract,” he said, and I understood.
I might defy him at every turn, but he was right—I had honored every contract I had made with him... and I would honor this one, as well. The only contract I had issues with was the one Odyssey had forced on me. I had not agreed to it, and I refused to honor it, out of principle.
“I see,” and Sandoval’s intrusion into our implants, made us all remember that he’d hacked them some time back. “In that case, let’s negotiate.”
His voice pulled us from our implants in time to register the scent of the coffee Tens had requested. Sandoval spared him a look.
“You have studied something of our customs,” he said. “We do negotiate over coffee, and we seal our deals with brandied ivanox.”
Tens paused, having taken his first sip of coffee. I watched as he swallowed it, and his face paled.
“Ivanox... is that safe?”
Around the room the hardened faces of Sandoval’s body guards broke into smiles of brief amusement. Sandoval’s expression echoed theirs—and his smile faded just as fast.
“We have much to decide,” he said, and I settled in for several long hours of discussion.
Delight and Pritchard came up, and were just as quickly discarded. As much as Sandoval wanted to see Delight dead, and Pritchard serving hard time for his part in the kidnapping of their child, Mack pointed out that the child had not been harmed, and that he had rescued both the child, and Sandoval and his bride.
“For which I should charge you protection,” he said.
“Or I could let you keep your Odyssey agent and her side-kick, and we could call it even,” Sandoval suggested, and Mack had reluctantly agreed.
He was happy with that, however, no matter what he’d lost in fees. Sandoval’s good will was more than worth it. The next sticking point came when we reached the question of Mack’s existing contract with Corovan.
“It has to be filled,” Mack said, and, again, weapons were raised around the room.
“You are not taking my bride,” Sandoval said. “Her safety is not negotiable.”
“But is she willing?”
Sandoval opened his mouth to respond, but the door behind him slid open, and Treivani’s voice carried clearly across the room.
“I am. This union was brokered before Corovan pressed his suit and my parents agreed to it. I did not inform them of what I already had in play, and they would not have approved if I had.”
Of what she’d already had in play? I thought, and it must have shown on my face, because Treivani gave us a self-satisfied smile in response.
“My parents would have considered the risks too great.” She cast Sandoval a glance that went beyond fond, making the bodyguards shift uncomfortably, and me feel like I’d intruded on an intimate moment. “I preferred it to what Corovan could offer.”
Her face twisted in dislike, and Mack frowned.
“You didn’t like him?” he asked, even though the answer was obvious.
“Blaedergil was a nicer man,” she told him, which confirmed what we’d suspected about Andreus Corovan, more than we’d ever wanted.
Treivani ignored us, and then fixed her gaze on her husband as she crossed to his side, “and Sandoval is everything I could have ever dreamed of in a partner.”
I refrained from pointing out that Sandoval was the reason she’d been tortured and killed every night until she’d conceived with Blaedergil. I even managed to keep that thought off my face. Not quite out of my implant, though, because Tens and Mack looked momentarily horrified, and Sandoval shot me a look of distaste.
“That was necessary,” he said, and I arched an eyebrow.
Mack cleared his throat, and I bit back the challenge that half rose to my lips. Mack was right; we had more important things to focus on... and Treivani’s choices were not mine to judge.
“Nor are mine,” Sandoval added, and I wondered when I’d ever get the privacy of my implant—and my own thoughts—back, but the Skymander lord was already changing his focus. “The contract with Corovan is over.”
Mack frowned, but didn’t say anything.
“It was not his to make, and for you to complete it means you are taking my bride against her will.” A touch of desperation tinged his next words. “Corovan had no right to hire you to do what he’s asked—and he knew it. You live because you accepted his contract in good faith, and honor requires you be given a chance to correct your mistake.”
The view screens came up as he stopped speaking, and played the recording of a conversation had long ago.
“Give her back,” Corovan snarled, and we all heard Sandoval’s reply.
“She has chosen another betrothal.”
“It doesn’t matter. My bargain is with the parents, not the child.”
“She is not a child, and her parents did not have the right to make the bargain. My contract was already signed and witnessed.”
“It is void; it was not agreed to by the clan elders.”
“They cannot gainsay the heir.”
“She is only one of the heirs, and this will make her claim void.”
Sandoval’s voice, when he replied, was very self-assured—and tauntingly smug.
“Then you have plenty of other brides to choose from, don’t you?” Sandoval had replied, and he’d ended the call.
“I take it Corovan didn’t agree,” Mack said, and Sandoval gestured to the screen, once more.
“The Hazerna elders ratified the contract between us, and have approved the wedding, something Andreus Corovan would have been aware of, when he hired you.”
Documents supporting his claim, flashed up on the screen and Mack rested his forehead in his hand. Sandoval watched as Mack wiped his hand down over his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose, keeping his eyes closed as he took a breath. He stayed silent as Mack lifted his head.
“Can I have a copy of those?” he asked. “I’ll need them to confront Corovan, and to keep Odyssey on side.”
“Done,” Sandoval said, and the room relaxed.
Treivani settled herself on a chair beside her lord, and curled her hand through his arm.
“Now that that’s settled,” Sandoval continued, with a fond glance at his bride, “I’d like you to retrieve Melari from Andreus Corovan’s possession—and the cure for whatever disease she is currently carrying. That particular contract was not sanctioned by the Hazerna elders, nor agreed to by the girl.”
Mack frowned.
“Then how...”
It was Treivani who answered.
“There are rivalries inside every house. Andreus made some rather rash promises to Melari’s main rival, and was, unfortunately, believed.” She raised a hand as Mack opened his mouth to protest, continuing as he subsided. “We don’t need you to deal with the girl who put my sister in jeopardy; we just need you to get my sister out of Corovan’s hands, before he can marry her and consummate the wedding. My people will deal with the other side of the problem.”
She smiled, and it was not a very nice smile.
“Let’s just say that another alliance is about to be made, and that the bride might not be so pleased with her future partner—and that, my dear Mack, is none of your concern.”
The look on her face made my stomach do an uneasy flip, and I was glad such vengeful glee was not aimed at me. I took note to stay out of the future Lady Skymander’s bad books. The Lord Skymander, in the meantime, smiled softly as he stroked a gentle hand over his lady’s hair.
“My lady adores her little sister,” he said, when he caught me staring. “Melari will join us, if she survives Blaedergil’s successor.”
Blaedergil’s what? I looked towards Mack, but he studiously avoided my gaze, as did Tens.
“Do not judge what you do not understand!” Skymander snapped. “It is essential if our world is to survive.”
I swallowed a retort that would have suggested it might be better if a world that required such practices did not survive. Keeping my mouth firmly shut, I listened as Mack brought the discussion back to what Skymander needed.
“Last we saw, Melari was still inside a stasis pod,” he said. “We don’t know if she’s infectious, or what she might have.”
“Trust me,” Treivani told him. “She’s infectious. You’ll need to take precautions.”
“I’ll also have the Corovan compound quarantined,” Mack said.
“Not until you’re out of there with my sister,” Treivani ordered, “or you won’t be leaving, otherwise. This is not the first dealing the clans have had with a plague master from Magnus 19. Quarantine is very...” She exchanged a look with Sandoval. “... thorough.”
What disturbed me most about that, was that she’d said a plague master, as in one of many, as in there were more. I’d been happy thinking Blaedergil had been the only one. I listened to Sandoval, Mack and Treivani dicker some more about price, conditions, bonuses and penalties, and was surprised when Skymander told Mack the ship’s repairs were almost done.
“I didn’t order any,” Mack said.
“But you would have, if you hadn’t been shot,” Skymander told him, “so I had your engineers tell me what they needed, and then worked within your usual budget.”
“My usual...” Mack shot Tens a frustrated glare, but Skymander was quick to offer an explanation.
“Your people did a good job of locking your ship’s systems down,” he said, “but they had limited time, and weren’t on hand to counter any incursions—and my people are just as good.”
Tens glared at him, as though questioning that last statement, but Mack gave him a look that said he’d better keep his mouth shut, so Tens said nothing. Sandoval looked amused, but returned to the matter of repairs.
“You needed to fix the drives, and repair the hull, after the damage they took from whatever you did to get here by the route you did, and then from the damage you took from the fighters.”
We’d taken damage from the fighters? Well, that was news to me. I guess Tens had meant it when he’d said Case couldn’t keep dodging forever. I think I’d been in the tank for that. Funny how he’d avoided mentioning the damage we’d taken from the battleship. That I knew about. I’d been awake for that.
“Send me the repair bill and the docking fees,” Mack said, and, again, he sounded tired. “I’ll cover them.”
But Sandoval shook his head.
“No. I’ll be taking them out of your fees for retrieving Melari.”
“I’d prefer...” Mack began, but the look on Sandoval’s face said it would be pointless for him to continue.
Mack sighed.
“Fine. Send me a copy of the final bill.”
There was a moment’s stillness, and then Mack spoke.
“Thank you.”
I heard undertones in those two simple words that I didn’t understand, and I wondered what Skymander had done to earn them. The best news was that Mack didn’t seem angry, either about what had been done, or about the cost, so I figured that everything met with his approval, however grudging that might be.
“If that is all...” Mack said, but Skymander shook his head.
“You will be contacted by the clans—both Hazerna and Corovan,” he said. “I want you to supervise the negotiations between us.”
“You want me to represent your interests?”
Sandoval shook his head.
“No, I want you to guide the discussions, ensure we all have our say, clarify the points we are trying to make, when one or the other of us chooses not to understand, and to keep us on track. I notice you have no fee for that in your schedules, so I will pay you the price Odyssey asks for such services, since you are aligned most closely with them. Here.”
And Mack grew still, in that way all people did when they opened files in their heads. I saw his throat move as he swallowed, watched him blink as he processed what he was reading—and, like Tens, I waited.
“Done,” Mack said, and the Skymander stood and crossed to a cabinet set into the cruiser’s wall.
From one shelf, he took a bottle and five glasses, and set them on a tray. From a second shelf, he took a tablet-sized computer and two black-and-gold-colored pens, and, from the printer, a thick sheaf of paper. He set these beside the glasses and bottle, and brought the tray over to where we sat.
“Time to sign,” he said.
