Ambasadora (Book 1 of Ambasadora) (17 page)

Heavy drums and whining guitars
pounded through the V-side, energizing the combatants. Zak kicked Cuzco’s legs
out from under him and sent the bigger guy tumbling down an ascending magno.
When Vishneu rammed his head into Zak’s stomach, Sean gasped for breath back in
his dark suite in the real world. Pain registered in his head, his left
shoulder, and finally his knees as Zak and Vishneu rolled after Cuzco.

At the bottom of the ramp, Zak
jumped up and right into Cuzco’s fist. The jab to his mouth drove his teeth
into his upper lip and left him reeling backward. Before Cuzco could get a
second jab in, Zak ducked around behind him and chopped the back of the man’s
neck with the edge of his hand. Then he shifted his weight onto his front foot
and kicked sideways at a newly charging Vishneu.

Cuzco spun around. Zak circled
the big guy and spit a mouthful of blood onto the onyx floor. He hoped to turn
Cuzco full into the sunlight that filtered through the chalcedony atrium. The
only difference between this virtual world and the real Embassy was the lack of
people rushing through.

And no green floor lamps and a
dozen other details no one cared about but him.
In a training ground, every
detail had significance because strategies could be infinitely altered by one
green lamp. He’d mentioned the slip to the bosses again. No one was concerned.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zak
saw Vishneu coming up on his right. Cuzco would wait until the two of them
could attack Zak from both fronts. Zak knew what to expect because their
partner strategies were always the same. It was time for some new moves.

Waiting until the last possible
moment, Zak spun away from Cuzco and took Vishneu head on with a combination of
punches to the jaw. He threw the dazed man into Cuzco so hard they both tumbled
to the ground. The pair rolled back to their feet, ready to lunge at Zak.

A portal opened in front of them.

Ariel stepped through and looked
at them. “Why didn’t anyone invite me? I would have dropped this
background search and come running, ready to rumble…or tumble.”

She wiped some blood from Zak’s
lip, then sucked it off her finger.

“What did you find
out?” Zak wiped the rest of the blood onto his sleeve.

“That Ambasadora Sara
Mendoza didn’t exist for the past two months. I mean she doesn’t show up
anywhere in the system again until very recently.”

“Where was she prior to
working for Prollixer?” he asked.

“Officially, she was a
Socialite living on Tampa Quad with her family,” Ariel said.

“Unofficially?”

“Enamoured to a rogue
contractor. Guy named Chen Starrie.”

“Sounds like an Embassy
snitch to me,” Vishneu said.

“Do you know where she is
now, Zak?” Ariel asked.

“No,” he lied.
“But I’ll find out and take care of it. Such a high profile position will
need to be dealt with delicately.”

Without waiting for any
objections, Sean pulled Zak out of the V-side.

He wiped the lenses from his eyes
and stared into the darkness of his bedroom. He hated to be right about Sara.
It left him empty.

The fraggers would expect him to
eliminate her before she did any damage. But he would make that decision for
himself. Fragger intel had failed him once already. Never again would he act on
another’s word. Waiting could be risky, but the rational part of him wasn’t
convinced of her guilt yet. His first instincts were usually right on. That’s
why their initial encounter had meant so much; it told him there was something
more to her. He was determined to find out how much more.

He kicked his legs off the bed
and tapped his palm to activate his bedroom lights. If he started now, he could
search her suite long before she returned from the social on Nanga Ki. Deciding
not to bother with shirt or shoes, he strode through his sitting area and
tapped open his door.

He jerked his head back when he
met Soli’s smiling face in the commonway.

“Isn’t this a nice look for
you. Are you going out?” She placed her hand on his bare chest and gently
backed him up into the room. “I was just coming to visit.”

“Now’s not a good time,
Soli. I kind of have something I need to do.”

Her eyebrows raised in interest.
“Oh, you have somewhere to be? Someone to see?” She moved past him
without waiting for his answer and walked to one of the couches and stood.

Resigned, he followed her. With
one swipe of his arm, he cleared a space for her to sit on the couch’s blue
fabric surface. The shirt Sara had fondled earlier lay on top of the pile, its
blindfolded occupant still paused in middive. He picked up the shirt and held
it, as though it would bring back the memory of that day. Then he tugged it on,
catching just a slight whiff of roses, or so his mind imagined.

“Don’t get dressed on my
account,” Soli said. She tucked the graceful lines of her tailed tunic
under her before gliding onto the couch. The low-cut white front drew Sean’s
eyes to the matching curves of her amber breasts.

“You like this?” she
asked. A sly smile peeked from the corner of her cornflower blue lips.

“If only you were interested
in men, Soli.”

“Then you’d want nothing to
do with me.” Her smile faded, and a stray braid fell over her forehead.

“What do you mean?” he
asked.

“Because you would think I
was only after your DNA. You assume that’s what all women want from you.”

“I’d be right. It’s a tenet
of our society. Don’t you remember your studies? ‘Sex is life. Value your
drive. Choose your couplings well.’”

“Is that why you haven’t
taken a prime yet…at your age?”

“My age?” He knit his
brows. “I’m thirty. I have a good 140 years left in my projected
lifecycle.” When she didn’t look convinced he added, “David’s almost
twice as old as me and still hasn’t taken a prime.”

“David’s an Armadan. They
normally don’t have children until their late sixties. You’re a Socialite.”

Not even by half,
Sean
thought.

“Kenon’s the Socialite. He
started at sixteen and has had three children over the past six years. And,
he’s looking for a new amour already.”

“Yes, I know,” Soli
said with an innocent smile. “He has his sights set on our
ambasadora.”

“Sara? I should have
guessed.” Irritation worked into Sean’s jaw. Though Kenon was probably
more her type and certainly closer in age if Sean had guessed right.

Soli perked up. “On a first
name basis already? You didn’t even come to greet her.”

“She came to me for a
reporter and asked if I could reprogram her scentbots.”

“Did you?”

“I gave her a reporter,”
Sean said.
And a very thorough lesson on how to use it
.

“But no new scentbots?”

“Not yet.”

“So you’d have an excuse to
see her again.” Soli didn’t mean this as a question.

“What? No. She had a message
waiting for her.” Sean crossed his arms.

“Maybe she wanted an excuse
to see
you
again.”

She probably did want to see him
again, but not in the way Soli suggested. If anything, Sara Mendoza might be
plotting to capture or kill him at their next meeting.

“Quit trying to matchmake,
Soli.” He kept his tone light, though he was annoyed because she hit a
little too close to the truth. It amazed him how she seemed to know what they
all were thinking on board.

“You know, an amour would do
you a world of good. Make you more social, less brooding.”

“I may spend a lot of time
in my head, but I don’t brood.”

“You’re one of the loneliest
people I know, Sean. Perhaps you really prefer it that way. Or are you just
afraid of intimacy?”

“I get all the intimacy I
need, thanks.” Though there hadn’t been any of that recently, either.

“There’s a difference
between sex and intimacy, otherwise no one would bother to take on an
amour.”

“For me there’s no
distinction. And, you’d be surprised how many Uppers think that way. They just
won’t admit it. I don’t need someone permanent in my life.”

And no one needed him. The truth
caused an ache that traveled from his throat to his stomach, but he never let
the reaction show on his face. He knew it was time for Soli to leave, before he
said anything he’d regret.

She must have sensed his
irritation because she stood and walked the few paces to him.

“You’re one of my favorite
people. That’s why I care about you.” She brushed the back of her hand
along his jaw and gave him a sad, little smile.

He took her hand and looked down
at it. “Thanks, Soli. Nice to know.”

“Now, I’m off to cheer up
Mari.”

“More David troubles?”
Sean asked.

“What else?”

Sean worried about Mari’s very
obvious emotional fallacy for David. During the year she had been on board,
Sean had gotten to know her and care for her. When she first arrived, he’d been
interested, then she immediately opened her mouth and he couldn’t take the
constant chatter, even for a man who hated the silence. Still, he liked Mari
because she was genuine and kind. He hoped David had only the best intentions
toward her. So far, that seemed to be the case. He put up with her immaturity
and basically taught her about intimacy in a safe and gentle way, at least
according to all the graphic details she had shared with Sean and Geir when
they were trying to work on the engine core one morning. David would blow a
circuit if he knew Mari talked about their relationship and their sexual habits
so openly.

But the former Armadan captain
had shown how much he cared about Mari when he did everything, legal or not, to
get her back after Dale Zapona abducted her. Maybe Sean should have tried a
little harder to foster the friendship he and David had begun to forge while
helping Mari. Probably too late now.

“Does he still think he’s
keeping their tryst a secret?” Sean walked Soli to the door.

“Of course he does, dear.
He’s an Armadan.” Soli headed out with a wave.

Sean waited until he saw her
round the bend for the stairs before heading out himself. Sara’s suite was only
three doors down from his on this side, but he didn’t want to take any chances
being seen. If he did have to eliminate her, he didn’t want anyone drawing a
connection between the two of them.

“I hope that’s not
dinner.” Sara put her hand to her nose and kept it there, for once
relishing in her scentbots’ rosy bouquet. Kenon coughed several times. An odd
smell of burnt hair and flowers detracted from the room’s elegance.

Several nicely dressed guests
were already enjoying their meals at a long stone banquet table. In a strip
down the middle glowed a fuchsia fire, its flames not reaching higher than a
few centimeters. More sconces lined the walls, though without the tapestries
that had accompanied them in the main chamber.

“The major supervisor likes
to do his own introductions.” Liloch motioned toward the head of the
polished basalt table. “So, if you’ll excuse me….”

“You’re not joining
us?” Sara held out hope for an alternate dining facility.

Liloch threw a quick glance at
Kenon. “I usually dine in my quarters.”

As the ponytailed blonde turned
to go, Kenon strode up to David and said, “See you in the morning. Enjoy
your social.”

A whirring drew their attention
to the shadows at the far end of the table, where the major supervisor floated
toward them on a hover chair. He had a girth not unlike a small moon, and
apparently no table manners to speak of. His light grey tunic displayed a
preview of each course that had been prepared for the evening. When he licked
his food-encrusted lips and adjusted himself, Sara wrinkled her nose.

“Is that a floating
throne?” David asked.

“Maybe that’s what
smells,” Sara whispered back.

The stench worsened when the
major supervisor stopped in front of them. He looked her over, his gaze never
quite made it to her face. Speaking to her cleavage, he said, “Ambasadora
Sara Mendoza, you are everything I had imagined.”

The man’s soprano voice made her
think there wasn’t much there to adjust after all.

“I am Major Supervisor
Bakkin Venture.” He took her hand, his greasy fingers massaging her palm.

She pulled her hand back and
easily slid free of his grasp. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance. May
I introduce Navigational Leader David Anlow.”

“Hello,” Venture muttered.

She noticed that neither man was
punctilious enough to offer his hand.

“You don’t know how happy I
was to hear that an ambasadora would be staying with me.”

“We’ll actually be returning
to our ship after dinner,” Sara said.

“
Immediately
after
dinner,” David added, then muttered something about this being worse than some
dive at the Hub.

Venture’s look said he liked
David better when he was silent. “You must be hungry. I do hope you don’t
mind, but when we were informed of your tardiness this evening, we started
without you. But, I have seats reserved for you at my side.”

“I thought we were right on
schedule,” David said. “I’m usually on time.”

“I don’t think it really
matters at this point,” Sara said, but David remained irritated by their
supposed tardiness. No doubt he was regimented about such things from his time
in the fleet.

None of the diners offered more
than a nod of acknowledgment, and most of them were almost finished eating. She
and David had been given the honorable seats to either side of Venture. Attendants
loaded both of their plates and filled their glasses with a clovered alcohol.
She wondered how the six people seated at the other end of the table could be
eating with such gusto when the odor in here had killed her appetite completely.
Already tired of playing at the good Embassy diplomat, she would’ve happily
returned to her horrible white room on the
Bard
.