F ais’ mama pointed her weapon square between Ahnna’s eyes. “You let my boy go.”
Ahnna backed away as she let Fais down. Tierc had implied Mama was defenseless. Not from where Ahnna was standing. One careless move and those fingers would fire. She understood the woman’s hostility. Live under the constant threat of extermination and every encounter with a stranger became a threat assessment.
The heel of her boot hit an obstruction.
Tierc blocked her retreat, he refused to back out the door, agitating Fais’ mama further and distracting Ahnna with his wretched pheromones. “We returned your boy unharmed,” he said.
Mama’s eyes narrowed. “We have nothing! Go! Now!”
“We don’t want anything,” Ahnna said quickly. “We’re not Rafters. We don’t expect tribute. We just want to talk, to understand. We want to help.”
Shouldn’t have let the boy rake up old feelings.
Don’t get close; that’s what they taught her.
Fais walked to his mother and pulled on her waistcoat. “Ahnna mend me.” He pulled up his torn shirt and presented his dressing with pride. Mama’s eyes glanced down. She frowned. “What happened?”
As Fais launched into an incoherent explanation of his day, his mother’s aggression shifted to wary suspicion and then relief until she lowered her weapon. She beckoned them in, directing Tierc to close the door. He did, shutting out the holovid drone, a sly maneuver she felt sure Tierc had intended. A kettle went on a hot brick.
“I saw you with those men, the Rafters,” Tierc said. “What’s their hold on you? What if you can’t pay?”
Leyan offered a running commentary as she made them a dried grass tea, the bitter taste compensated for by a release of tension in Ahnna’s shoulders. “I will not let them take my son.” She obviously feared the consequences if Atton, Fais’ father, couldn’t find the credit for tribute payment.
“How much do you need?” Ahnna asked. “We have credit.”
“Five thousand.”
Tierc winced. “We have less than a tenth of that, but you are welcome to it. I could earn more at the space port.” He looked up suddenly, his eyes searching the ceiling.
“You would do this for Fais?” Leyan shook her head. “No, if I make payment, they’ll demand more, ask where I find credit. They know Atton goes off-world to make tribute. No, this place isn’t safe. Rafters cannot be trusted.”
Ahnna followed his gaze, spotted the vid drone clinging to the seam joining ceiling to wall.
“Got my orders,” Zeke spoke softly in her ear.
“What about your neighbors?” Tierc asked Leyan.
Finally Leyan opened up, whispering so as not to disturb Fais who gently snored in his mother’s arms. “Everyone pays protection. The Rafters won’t leave until they have all our children.”
Protection! Ahnna’s blood rose. The bastards extorted money in exchange for not stealing the children. They left a street when there were no children, or once all the terrified families had fled. Explained the desolation of this sector, although in this overcrowded city she bet no building stood empty for long.
“Kill them,” Ahnna said, her voice low and angry.
“That your default solution to all problems?” Tierc frowned.
Ahnna felt the warm start of a flush, directed her nanos to compensate. “It’s the only language people like them understand.”
“People like them?”
What plucked his scales? She stared at Tierc. Did he think she lumped Rafters and Qui together, a category of… scum? Perhaps she did, but the idea didn’t sit well and Ahnna struggled to identify her position.
The Qui didn’t steal children. Realization gut-punched her and Ahnna’s throat closed. “I support life,” she said, not quite meeting Tierc’s eyes.
Tierc’s eyebrows shot up and heat rose up Ahnna’s neck unchecked. Damn him! Her throat closed, her thoughts reeling as she fought to find her equilibrium. It wasn’t the same—HD-X schooled the children, invested in their education. Emotion welled up from deep inside and Ahnna fired Tierc a furious glare to mask the rising tears.
His eyes narrowed. He shot a glance to Leyan and back. His hands rose in supplication. “Forget I said anything.”
Too late, but rehashing their differences wouldn’t help Fais. Ahnna’s eyes fell on the little boy. “We have to help these people!”
Tierc grimaced, she could see he was tempted, but then he shook his head. “Trax needs to do something. The city needs to drive these parasites out, together. One vigilante will not overcome the frightened masses.” He turned to Leyan. “What about law enforcement?”
“The Rafters buy off the law.”
Tierc grimaced. “I understand. I’m sorry—”
“Wait!” Ahnna interrupted him. “Is that it? Surely there’s something we can do?”
“Ahnna, we’re not an army.” His mouth thinned; she could tell he wasn’t happy. His gaze skewered her. “We have commitments, remember?”
He meant Xecara, another child in need, and Ahnna hesitated, torn. Tierc was right. They were here to complete a three point challenge, get information for the next task, and then rescue a high priestess.
The Trax challenge was supposed to be quick and easy.
“We’ll stay a couple more days,” Tierc said to Leyan. “We’ve got business in the city. Then if Atton doesn’t make it home with the tribute you need, we’ll get you and Fais to safety. Make sure the Rafters don’t hurt you or take Fais.” He looked at Ahnna. “Agreed?”
She nodded.
“Except I’ve been thinking,” Crandal said through the comms-link. “Maybe that isn’t enough. Fais will still be at risk even if his father does return with the tribute they need. The Rafters will simply come back. Will you walk away with your three points? Tell me, Tierc, hand on heart, do you believe you have done everything you can for the boy?”
Ahnna’s breath lodged in her throat, her heart beat wildly. What did Crandal expect from them? They couldn’t wage war on the Rafters, their contract forbid the killing of any Paragon citizen other than in self-defense. Even if they did, other Rafters would replace them.
Tierc stood stock-still, his eyes glittering. Leyan looked from one to the other, her brow creased into a frown.
Finally, he shook his head and turned to Leyan. “We’ll be in the city another couple days. Make sure Fais stays safe, but in the meantime, maybe we’ll look around, talk to people. See what else we can do.”
* * *
The next morning, Ahnna wrapped up the bedroll Leyan lent her overnight. She pressed it into their host’s hands and then held on until Leyan’s eyes questioned her. “Leyan, we can’t solve this in time! You need to run. Keep Fais safe!” Urgency laced Ahnna’s plea. She had fretted all night trying to solve the threat against Leyan’s family, seeing no way forward.
Leyan’s expression rebuked. “If I run, we will never stop, and what if Atton returns? No, we must pay the tribute.”
Frustration gnawed at Ahnna’s inside. Leyan had no idea if her son’s father was even alive. “Is there no one you trust to give him a message?”
Fais ran in and grabbed Ahnna’s hand. “Tierc is asking for you. Your flying machine is not happy.”
Ahnna paused outside, cherishing the pleasure of his tiny hand in hers. A joy spread through her. They walked on air, carefree and happy, Fais chatting non-stop about… Tierc. The two had been bonding. She laughed at his delight, the little Veltais a different child to the one they’d met yesterday. The sense of freedom vanished the moment she stepped into the building where they had found Fais.
Tierc stood hands on hips glaring at the vid drone hovering in front of him. “Where does it say we can’t get involved in politics? Last night you implied we needed to do more!”
Ahnna swung around to the child beside her. “Fais, go back to your mama. Okay?”
He nodded, ran to the entranceway as Ahnna tapped her comms-link, noting the building no longer masked a signal.
Crandal’s voice boomed into her ear. “… our broadcasting license prohibits excessive violence. You cannot fight these people!”
Had something happened overnight? Yesterday, Crandal had suggested they do more.
Tierc spread his hands wide. “We’re not going to fight them! And anyway, how exactly do you square that rule with extracting a high priestess from Verdon custody?”
“That challenge prohibits unprovoked violence, and the political complexity of a peaceful extraction is why the challenge rewards eighty points.”
Ahnna jumped in. “Is Octiron in collusion with the Rafters?”
“Of course not–” Crandal snapped back.
“Do you think your audience would approve of kids being stolen from their homes?”
“We’re an entertainment business; we can’t condone vigilante activism.”
Sounded like Crandal regurgitated Octiron CYA policies, their hypocrisy knew no bounds.
“After all,” she continued, her voice rising, “you snatch contestants from their lives, their home worlds.” Bile rose up Ahnna’s throat, deep-rooted anger stirring in her belly. “What’s it matter these kids are three-years-old?” She wiped clammy palms down the length of her jacket, realized Zeke’s holovid focused on her and that Tierc stood behind the drone now, shaking his head at her in quiet warning.
She glared back and the drone swiveled around and then shot sideways to view them both. Tierc pointed to a wide-eyed Fais standing just three feet away. Ahnna’s fist clenched, stricken with guilt, and grief. Tierc represented everything she hated, but right now, with Leyan and the boy facing devastation in less than forty-eight hours, she didn’t know what she hated most, the Qui or the Rafters.
She ran to Fais, crouched before him and cradled his arms. “Everything’s going be fine,” she promised. “We came to help you, and that’s what we’ll do.”
Fais shook his silver mane, mouth pouted with indignation, his mesmerizing eyes accusing her of a mortal sin. “I’m five, Ahnna, not three.”
Ahnna fought for composure, nodded, and stroked his arm, willing her nanos to work. “Of course. What was I thinking?”
“We need a plan,” Tierc said.
Ahnna looked up, found him beside her, his manner wary. “What are you thinking?”
“We make good use of the time. Find well-connected Veltais willing to fight back. We interview them, use the race to broadcast across Paragon, expose what the Rafters are doing here, and embarrass the Central Alliance into taking action. Maybe, in exchange, the Veltais can help us find a way into House Verdon.”
* * *
Tierc hid his disappointment. Although Leyan had been pleasantly surprised by the response to her message that offworlders wanted to break the Rafter’s hold on Trax, only six Veltais turned out to meet with him and Ahnna. They gathered in the basement of a derelict building. Ahnna seemed unfazed by the low numbers—from her point of view, the fewer involved, the less likely Rafters would learn of brewing rebellion.
“Well?” asked Garll, an older Veltais with leathery tanned skin webbed by age lines. He looked to a female who scrolled through the contract Axo had transported down.
“This is a standard guarantee of anonymity.” She glanced at the holovid drone settled on a shelf on the wall of their meeting place. “If Octiron reveals our identities, we can sue.”
“Assuming we’re still alive,” Garll pointed out.
“It’s vital to keep your anonymity,” Tierc said. “The failed law enforcement in Trax makes you vulnerable, but that’s what we need to highlight. You have only each other for help but when one stands up, the rest hide. I get why,” he said to quell the expected protest. “You don’t want Rafters gunning for your family, it’s survival instinct. That’s natural.”
The six men and women nodded agreement.
“But there are citizen right groups in Paragon who will rally to your cause. Groups like the Alliance Trust.” Tierc referenced a name Crandal had given him. “They need to hear from you to know the situation on Trax. Tell your stories and Octiron will broadcast the Rafter’s extortion across Paragon. The Central Alliance will be forced to take action.”
“Why would Octiron do this for us? House Verdon is closed to private media.” The male Veltais gestured to Tierc’s ear. “Why would you? I see your comms-link. I’ve heard of the Great Space Race. What is this? A ridiculous challenge?”
Ahnna stood up. “Helping Fais is our challenge for the race, yes, but this so much bigger than one child or the Great Space Race. Although I… we… can’t speak for Octiron’s motives, your story is major news and that is Octiron’s business. The reason I’m here is because Fais has become more to me than a challenge. I can’t leave Trax until I know he and Leyan will be safe.” She paused for breath. “I want to propose a sanctuary network for families at risk—”
“No, no, no,” Garll interrupted her. “Others tried this and died. The Rafters have informants throughout the city—they always find those who hide.”
“I understand, Leyan told us of your fight against the Rafters in the past, and that’s why—”
Garll shook his head and moved to leave in disgust.
“Wait! Please hear me out!”
The desperate quality to Ahnna’s plea tugged on Tierc’s heart. Her stricken expression couldn’t be faked and Garll hesitated.
“Please,” Ahnna whispered. She implored them all.
The Veltais exchanged glances and then Garll nodded. “I’m listening.”
“Thank you. Okay.” Ahnna visibly gathered herself. “The Rafters employ lie detectors on those suspected of shielding someone.” She made it a question and Garll nodded. “There are ways to cut off anyone with real information. A sanctuary network that operates by separated locations and groups. The network approaches families in danger, transforms their appearance and identities, and directs them to a safe place. Even those running the network will know only a single part of the operation.”
Tierc watched Ahnna explain the intricacies of a network where one cell didn’t know of another’s existence, absorbed in her HD-X terrorist cell methods and impressed by her detailed knowledge of witness protection techniques.
“I know someone who can alter appearance by editing genetic code,” one of the Veltais females offered. “A person I’d trust with my life.”
“Good.” Ahnna smiled. “Never use names, or pronouns, only codenames.”
Tierc’s pulse jumped; every time those seductive lips curved upwards he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Over the day, he’d sensed Ahnna warming to him as he hammered out an agreement with Crandal and sweet-talked Leyan into gathering those she trusted. Not warming to him so much, more to his plan. Ahnna’s prickles went down, blonde curls framed her stunning bone structure, and those cat-like eyes pored over the details as she fine-tuned her proposal. Watching her work, Tierc had discovered a woman he might have respected in another life, another universe where HD-X did not exist.
Her immediate bond with Fais revealed a side to Ahnna he hadn’t suspected and Tierc found he couldn’t turn aside. Their task had gathered new meaning. They still needed to find a sensible way to help Fais when the Rafters returned, but if it came down to the wire, both he and Ahnna were ready to kill and damn the consequences.
That was Crandal’s bargain.
Provide entertainment Octiron could use to market the show through their news channels and Octiron would shine a light on Rafter corruption on Trax without compromising the Veltais sanctuary network.
In Paragon one law of nature remained inviolate. Every rule was made to be broken.
* * *
Atton’s arrival home with payment in full skewered Crandal’s hope for a breaking news item. Tierc enjoyed a quiet delight and not unsubstantial relief until their handler announced through their comms-link that Octiron wanted the action promised them.
“What do you want us to do?” Tierc snarled at the holovid drone dancing ahead of him as he dragged Ahnna away from the celebrations. Outside, he and Ahnna ducked into an alley out of sight. “Fuck up the payment? Invite attention and conflict where none is needed?”
“Confront them!” Crandal answered. “Ask the Rafters what they’re doing. Provoke them. They’ll attack and you can take them out, legally. Just don’t get killed. Octiron has high hopes for you in this race.”
“No,” Ahnna replied flatly. “Rafters will go after the whole family!”
“Great Space Race contestants confronting Rafters stealing a child is one thing,” Tierc pointed out, “but interfering in a backstreet payoff smacks of something else. Leyan and Atton will be forced to run early. Better the Veltais build their sanctuary network and they run later when the Rafters aren’t paying attention.”
“You need to give our viewers some action,” Crandal retorted, “or there won’t be a sanctuary network.”
Tierc nearly smacked the holovid drone into a stone wall. Ahnna’s eyes flashed, she was a storm of words ready to blow, but then shouting caught their attention. They raced to the alley entrance and peered out.
Rafters surrounded Leyan’s house.
Atton knelt on the ground, credits scattered about him. “Not my son!” He gathered up the square coins, held them out.
“We have your payment,” Leyan pleaded. She clutched a screaming Fais by one hand. A Rafter pulled him away, the terrified boy stretched between them.
Ahnna ran towards the ugly scene.
Fuck.
Tierc raced past and charged into the melee. He pounded his fist into the Rafter’s jaw and then snapped the man’s arm at the elbow, breaking the thug’s hold on Fais. The Rafter screamed blue merry hell, but instead of attacking, his accomplices fell back. The roar of a ship’s engine made Tierc look upwards. He glimpsed a ship swooping over a high rise. Plasma fire sprayed the street. Tierc gathered Fais and Leyan with one arm and shoved them through their front door. He turned. Ahnna had reached Atton and Tierc barreled them both out of the plasma jet’s path. They tumbled head over heels into a wall.
Ahnna rolled onto her feet. She fired her blaster at the watching Rafters as they vanished in a transport lock. The whine of a ground vehicle had her spinning around. Tierc recognized Garll at the steering column. Tierc raised a hand to stop the Veltais, Ahnna directly in the vehicle’s path. Fais shot out his house, running towards his father still prone on the ground. Leyan chased him, shouting a warning.
The vehicle stopped just short of Ahnna. Fais did not. His head struck the steel side hard. His little body rebounded into his mother’s skirts. She tumbled back. For Tierc, time slowed. He saw Ahnna’s eyes widen in horror. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, and then she screamed.
“No!”
Atton stumbled to his feet. He rolled across the front of the vehicle and dropped beside his dazed wife and unmoving child.
“No!” Ahnna cried in desperation. She lurched to her feet.
Tierc moved towards her as she staggered and doubled over.
Leyan let loose a blood-chilling wail. Fais lay limp and lifeless in her arms, his open eyes no longer the color of the ocean, but dark and still. Garll stumbled out of his vehicle and swayed, his head shaking. The older man looked destroyed.
Fais had died not at the hands of Rafters, but in a senseless accident, a fatal accumulation of incidents arising from slave raiders who couldn’t honor the terms of their own racket. Anger, frustration, shock filled Tierc.
Why Fais? What had the Rafters wanted with him? It wasn’t fair. It made no sense.
The holovid drone hovered over the scene, filming every lurid detail, out of Tierc’s reach, Octiron getting their full entertainment value. He felt sick. Tonight the galaxy would watch a little boy die. He noticed the vid drone turn from the grieving family and focus on Ahnna. She had fallen to her knees and was shaking uncontrollably, moaning, clutching her stomach, her head bowed.
Tierc put his hands around her upper arms. “Ahnna?”
“Not Fais. Not my little boy. No!”
She moaned again and he pushed aside her hair to find her face contorted by a terrible grief. The muscles in her neck bulged. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She cradled her stomach so tightly he couldn’t prize her arms apart. He tried to pull her against him but she was rigid, coiled into a fetal position.
“Ahnna, please.”
“My little boy. They took him.”
“No. It was an accident. The Rafters were already gone.”
“They took him. I didn’t stop them. I wanted to. I wanted to.” She shook her head violently. “He was three. I loved him so much.”
Tierc frowned. He looked across at Leyan cradled over her dead son and then back at Ahnna.
“I loved him.” Her words fell over her chattering teeth. “I should have stopped them. I didn’t know. Oh my god! I didn’t stop them.”
He gripped her arms tightly and pressed against her, hoping she would feel someone was with her. “I’ve got you. I’m with you.” He doubted she heard him, but he kept repeating the words anyway, consumed by a need to comfort her, to relieve this devastating pain he didn’t understand, but that closed his throat. Ahnna Sokovik wrapped him in her sorrow, punched a hollow ache in his chest.
The holovid flew closer, an impassive, soulless witness to Ahnna’s torment, and in that moment Tierc hated Octiron more than ever. The media corporation was no different from the Rafters.
They both soaked up misery for profit.
The Rafters abducted innocent children for whatever contemptible purpose. Octiron abducted unsuspecting men and women from their lives for the enjoyment of the masses, both vile influences in this fucked up paragon of corruption and depravity.