The Girls From Alcyone (43 page)

Authors: Cary Caffrey

Tags: #page turner, #YA, #sci fi, #Thriller, #Fiction

"Like us?" Suko asked.

Sigrid nodded. "We know we're not the only ones. The Council knows it, and clearly others do as well. They failed trying to capture us, but now they know what to look for. It's only a matter of time before they look for the others like us. With your help, I plan to stop them. We'll need to be ready. We'll need to train. The young ones will need to be taught. And I'll need volunteers to help bring any girls we find back here."

Hitomi looked up at her, intrigued and very impressed.

"Forgive me, Mistress, I know I haven't discussed any of this with you."

"By all means, Sigrid. I think it's a marvelous idea. All my resources will be at your disposal, of course."

"Thank you, Mistress."

"And for the last time, call me Hitomi."

Sigrid laughed. "Yes, Hitomi."

* * *

"You've changed," Suko said. She lay sideways on their bed, covered only by the edge of one of the soft white sheets. The windows were open—they were always open, as no glassed enclosures seemed to be necessary on Medea. Even at night, the cooler temperatures were still quite comfortable.

Sigrid stood and stretched, then wandered to the window, where she breathed deep of the salty air and let the cool breeze caress her body. The light of three of Medea's sister-moons shone down, bathing her skin in a pale glow of light.

"Well, I don't feel very different. I see the girls and the way they look at me. I'm never sure what to say. I only know I don't want to let them down."

Suko laughed. "But don't you see—they
do
look to you. Even Hitomi. We all see how she listens to you."

"I never meant to tell anyone what to do."

"And you don't. You just say what needs to be said."

"It wasn't my intention to take charge."

"Sigrid, we trust you. You
lead
by example."

Suko rose from the bed and moved slowly to Sigrid, slipping her arms around her waist and holding her close. Her eyes were playful as she made a show of looking her up and down.

"What?" Sigrid asked, blushing.

"My new sensory modules must be out of sync—I was sure you'd grown taller."

"Oh!" Sigrid laughed and pinched the soft area of Suko's bottom.

"Hey!"

Sigrid leaned back against the low ledge, pulling Suko closer to her, absorbing the softness of her skin and the warmth of her body. "You shouldn't tease. I'm far too fragile right now." She tilted her head back, letting Suko's lips fall against hers, only coming up for air after a few minutes.

"They say the Relay will be done in days. Will you be leaving then?"

Sigrid nodded. "I have to. I'm not going to sit back wondering what the Council is up to. The next time someone moves against us I plan on knowing well in advance."

"See! You even think like a general."

"If I do, it's just the programming."

Suko shook her head. "If that were true, then we'd all be thinking the same thing. I think it's wonderful. I feel safe knowing you're looking out for us."

Suko leaned forward to kiss her again, but Sigrid pulled her head back and flashed a sly smile. "You do! Then who's looking out for me?"

"Who do you think? Now shut up and kiss me already."

"Now who's being commanding?"

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Epilogue

June 22, 2348

It had been a very good day.

Randal Gillings sat back in the comfortable chair behind his desk as he scanned the report his attaché had just brought to him. Outrage over the attack and destruction of the Panama Lift facility, combined with news of the apparent 'rebellion' on Scorpii, had fueled calls for increased defense spending. And with the loss of the thirty-six ships at Scorpii, those calls had been upgraded to demands for immediate action.

Coran Industries had personally signed a contract to deliver seventy-eight new front line ships, with options for hundreds more. His shareholders would be rich, and Coran stood to surpass even Daedalus as the single most powerful company in the Federation. His position as Chairman of the Council would not be challenged for decades to come. There would be a Draft to recruit new personnel for the CTF forces, and Coran's own workforce would also need to be increased tenfold. He was already being hailed as the architect for the
New Society
by the news readers. Of course, Coran had supplied the services with the appropriate copy to read.

Yes, it had been a very good day.

So why didn't he feel better? Gillings frowned and poured another whiskey from the decanter on his desk. He neglected to offer one to his attaché who sat before him. The man was efficient, but he was excessively timid, and Gillings wondered why he hadn't yet fired the man.
Relatives
.

He brooded again on why his mood was so foul. The answer was simple.
Andraste.
Those little girls had thwarted his latest attempt to appropriate Hitomi's technology. Twenty-one girls had been delivered personally by the Kimura Forces, and yet those girls had escaped. But not on their own—they had been aided.

Gillings stared hard at his attaché. "You're sure it was her—Lawther."

His aide squirmed uncomfortably. "I can't say if it was her personally, sir, but it seems they were definitely aided by the Mercenary Guild."

"Which clan?"

"Uh—all of them, sir."

"And you have no idea where they've gone?"

"No, sir. Daedalus has so far refused to divulge any information regarding their destination. We even offered double the usual amount of the bribes."

"
Compensation
," Gillings reminded him. "Bribes are illegal." He took another gulp of the whiskey and refilled the glass. That news was somewhat disturbing. It wasn't like Daedalus to refuse him information. He'd have to have words with Joffrey, and soon.

"Triple it. Quadruple it," Gillings said. "Someone in that blasted organization is bound to know something. I want to know where they've gone. And perhaps you should add some of this business with the Mercenary Guild to the news feeds. It might not be a bad idea to implicate them along with the Hekatians in this rebellion."

His attaché made a quick note on his pad. "Of course, sir. Might I say, early reports show the stories are playing very well with the public. Seventy-eight-percent of people polled are calling for a military strike on Hekate."

"Seventy-eight? Change it to ninety-two and run that story."

"Very good, sir. With those numbers, you might actually be able to persuade the Council to move against the Mercenary Guild now."

Gillings dismissed the idea. "No. Not just yet. With the losses on Scorpii, I'm afraid we'll still need to suffer the Mercenary clans, at least for the short term. We still need to retain them under contract to maintain order." He drained his glass. "Soon, though. Let's just deal with the news campaign first. We'll need full public support to move against the Guild."

Gillings' attaché bowed and headed immediately down the elevator to the parking level where his car was already waiting for him. The chauffeur held the door for him and he slipped inside. Unlike Gillings, the man who waited for him in the car
did
offer him a drink, and he took it, raising the glass politely.

"Thank you, Karl. Might I say, you're looking much better than the last time I saw you."

Karl Tarsus snorted a laugh, nodding to the man he'd only known as
Smith
until very recently. His real name, he now knew, was Harry Jones, Special Attaché to the Council Chair, and Personal Aide to Randal Gillings. He still didn't trust him, but the money and resources he could get his hands on were staggering. Tarsus still hadn't been able to trace the source, but it was
not
the Council or Coran Industries. More investigating would be required.

Thanks to Harry Jones, Karl Tarsus was now a man on the move—a new player in Mercenary Services. But he was operating as an
Independent
now. The Mercenary Guild would not take him back, but that was just as Mr. Jones wanted.

"Have you arranged for the new ships?" Jones
asked.

"Crewed and ready." Tarsus took a case out from under his seat and opened it. "And I got your package—CTF Naval transponders. Not easy to get your hands on."

Both men knew that to be true. Tarsus held out one of the tiny devices in his hand; all CTF ships carried the transponders that would confirm their identity to other ships."

"Have them installed right away. I have your first target. Crucis Prime."

Tarsus closed the case and looked up. "Crucis! You can't be serious. Six ships against that facility…Perhaps with fifty ships…"

Harry Jones chuckled and poured two more glasses of whiskey. "Don't worry. We only need to poke the hornets' nest, not destroy it. I want you to get in, cause as much trouble as possible, and get out. Just make sure you've got
these
installed." He patted the case with the transponders. "I want every Mercenary on that station to know who attacked them."

"I don't suppose they'll be too happy with the Council."

"No, I don't suppose they will."

"This might actually galvanize the clans against them."

"I would imagine that's a possibility."

"They may even chose to move against the Council in force."

"I would be surprised if they didn't."

Tarsus studied him for a long while, then shook his head. "Harry Jones, you're an interesting man. I don't suppose you'd care to tell me the rest of your little game? What this is all about. Is it Power? Money?
Women?
"

"Why not all three?"

Tarsus's grin was bordering on leering. "Forgive me, but you don't seem the type—at least, not for such
mundane
pursuits. Now, do tell."

Harry Jones opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it and raised his glass instead. "To possibilities, Mr. Tarsus."

The End

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