The Price of Conquest

Kressa's mysterious new captors hauled her to a stop against a rough wall and held her there, a hand pressed hard against her mouth.

A soft whump sounded from somewhere up and to her right, a sound more felt than heard as the air pressure changed around her. An instant later, a dim light appeared to her left, its bobbing source concealed by one of the two raggedly dressed but clean-cut youths who held her. The pale beam highlighted the features of a third man who stood before her, a finger pressed to his lips in a bid for silence.

He was tall, lean, and fortyish with wavy yellow-brown hair that hung below his shoulders. His thick sideburns and the long mustache that framed his mouth were a shade darker than his hair; his lively brown eyes a touch darker than that. He had a friendly, relaxed expression, but his brow was furrowed slightly and his head cocked to one side, as if listening for something.

The sound of running feet and muffled shouts reached Kressa's ears from somewhere to her right. She moved her eyes in that direction, but saw only a steep ramp ending in a solid wall. The hands holding her tensed and did not relax for nearly a full minute after the sounds receded, and then the man in front of her dropped his finger from his lips and flashed her a smile.

"We aren't going to hurt you, Miss Bryant," he whispered, and then leaned closer. His smile faded, and his brow wrinkled. "You are Kressa Bryant, aren't you?"

She could think of no reason to deny her identity, and nodded as best as she could with the hand over her mouth.

The man's smile returned. "Good. Now, my name's Max, and I'm going to have these two let you go, okay? You promise to behave?"

She nodded again.

"Right. So, here goes." He glanced at his young companions.

They released her and backed away.

She rubbed her arms and gave the three men sullen looks.

"Sorry about the rough treatment," Max said, absently tracing his mustache with a thumb and forefinger, "but we couldn't have you thrashing around asking a lot of loud questions while your friends poked about out there." He nodded his head toward the ramp.

"Of course," Kressa said neutrally.

Another figure stepped into view, and her jaw dropped in amazement.

The newcomer was the pretty blonde girl she had seen peering out of the port terminal window after Ayres arrested her. She smiled at Kressa, her eyes dark pools against her fair skin.

"Who are you people?" Kressa asked.

Max removed a handlight from his belt and switched it on, adding to the other dim light source. "I suppose some formal introductions are in order." He swung the light to shine on the two youths flanking him. "That's Sloan and Kalem," he said, and then glanced to his right where the girl stood. He draped an arm around her shoulders. "This is Annatrialla, but you can call her Anna. And the runt over there," he aimed the light beyond Anna, "is Jan Sar—"

"The name's Torch," a gruff voice rumbled.

"Right." Max smiled. "Torch. That is Torch."

A squat man stepped into view. He wore a helmet with a hooded lamp affixed to the front in the age-old style of a miner—the initial source of light Kressa had seen. He was short but massively built, with shoulders broad enough and limbs thick enough for a man half a meter taller.

"'ello, Miz Bryant," he said in a heavily-accented voice and flashed a smile that softened his rough features. "I b'lieve that's yours." He gestured to where one of the young men held out the pulse gun he'd taken from her.

Kressa took the weapon and checked to be sure the power pack was still intact. The gun registered nearly half-charge.

"Sloan, Kalem," Torch said in a low voice and motioned to the two young men. "Go above and make sure Miz Bryant's Salkair friends think she 'eaded into the city. Use the Calivan drainage outlet."

"Right, Torch," one of them said. He led the second youth away down what Kressa realized must be an underground tunnel.

"And one o' you get ahead o' them to keep up the charade," Torch called after them.

"Got it, Torch." The second youth pulled out a handlight to light their way.

Kressa stared after them curiously. Neither of them looked a day over twenty, and they both had clean, wholesome appearances that marked them as unlikely candidates to be creeping around under the city streets at this time of night. She switched her attention to her three remaining companions, wondering which of a dozen questions she should ask first.

Max held up a silencing hand. "I know, a million questions. But if you could hold onto them for a few minutes, we can get you someplace a bit safer."

She tucked the gun into her holster and nodded agreement.

Torch led them through a series of dusty passages, some wide enough to allow a group of people to travel four or five abreast, others so narrow they had to turn sideways and shimmy through. Kressa feared Torch would never get his brawny form through some of the smaller openings, but he moved with amazing dexterity through the narrow, twisting conduits, and she soon realized that, despite his bulk, he could easily have outdistanced her and the others if he wanted to. She was grateful he did not, for after the first dozen or so turns, she was completely lost.

"Where do all these tunnels go?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

"Where do you want to go?" Max asked from behind her.

She glanced back at him. "You're serious?"

He nodded. "Jan has maps of every drainage, sewer, and tunnel system on the Continent. And if there isn't a tunnel to get you where you want to go, he'll make one."

Kressa looked forward to find Torch beaming back at her.

"Where d'ya wanna go?" he asked.

She shook her head in wonder. "Nowhere, but…" She shook her head again. "I'll follow you."

Moments later, they stepped through a small doorway into another dark underground parking structure. The musty air and scattered rubble suggested the place had not been used for years.

Kressa accompanied her companions across the structure to an old-fashioned lift door. To her surprise, the mechanical elevator responded when called, sending a lighted car to carry them up several stories, clanking and complaining the entire way.

"Are you sure this thing's safe?" she asked as the lift shuddered noisily upward.

"No," Max answered with a straight face.

"It's fine, Maxie," Torch said. "I 'ad Racer inspect it just last week, and 'e says there ain't a thing wrong with it." He looked back at Kressa. "They didn't condemn this place 'cause of bad lifts."

The lift jerked to a halt, and the door opened.

"This building's condemned?" Kressa asked.

"She's fine." Torch waved them all into the dim, door-lined hallway beyond the lift. "She's condemned 'cause of age, but there's not a damned thing wrong with 'er. I checked 'er myself. Hell, this place's built like a goddamned fortress. She's got one of the finest examples of Lival-Brun architecture I ever seen. But them spodge-headed city inspectors wouldn't know a good bit of reinforcement if they saw it, so they said she was too old and closed 'er up. I s'pose they'll try to knock 'er down next, but they're in for a surprise, aren't they? Nothin' short of a megaton blast is gonna bring this girl down." He gave the nearest wall an affectionate slap with one meaty hand, and then rushed to catch up with Max who was already halfway down the dark corridor.

Kressa stared after him, winded by the energy behind his report. "Is he an expert on that sort of thing?" she asked Anna.

"I got a degree in it, don't I?" Torch called back.

Anna smiled at Kressa. "Believe it or not, he really does know what he's talking about."

Kressa followed the girl to where Max and Torch waited at one of the doors. Max removed a small, obviously homemade device from a pocket and touched it to the door's scanplate. The barrier slid aside, and he motioned Kressa through the opening.

The apartment beyond was old and small, but neatly furnished with a sofa, matching chairs, a table, and a desk piled high with stacks of data cards. Several framed certificates hung on the wall above the desk. A long bar separated the living area from a tiny kitchen fitted with a state-of-the-art food processing unit. The room's back wall was almost entirely obscured by heavy cloth, presumably covering a window. A door in the center of the left-hand wall opened into a small bedroom.

"Have a seat." Max waved toward the sofa and chairs and headed for the bar. "Anyone want something to drink?"

"Water," Kressa said. She crossed the bright room and collapsed into one of the comfortable-looking chairs in front of the cloth-covered window. Her ordeal had left her parched, tired, and confused, but she had decided on the journey here that she was going to trust these people. After all, they might very well have saved her life.

"Anyone else?" Max glanced at Torch and Anna sitting side by side on the sofa. Torch removed his helmet, ran a hand through his short hair, and shook his head. "No? Okay, one water coming up. By the way, Bryant—"

"Kressa," she corrected.

Max smiled at her over his shoulder. "That was some trick you pulled, escaping from the Salkairs."

"It wasn't the Salkairs I was worried about." She watched Max as he approached with a glass of water. "It was the Patrol."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

He halted in front of her with a jolt. "Did you say Patrol?"

She nodded and drank half the water before asking, "How much of the action did you see?"

"One of our people saw you with the Salkairs at the Moorlan's bar. We kept tabs on your movement to Salkair HQ, and then waited to see what would happen. Next thing we knew, you were racing out of the garage with those Salkair goons hot on your tail."

"Then you didn't see who I came out of the building with?"

Max shook his head, brown eyes watching her intently. Torch and Anna listened with equal interest.

Kressa took another sip of water, using the time to ponder who these people might be and whether anything she told them could get her into deeper trouble.

"Are you with House Moorlan?" she asked finally.

Max laughed and settled into the chair beside Kressa's. "We're not with any House, but…" He stroked distractedly at his mustache with the fingertips of his left hand. "I'll make you a deal. You tell us about these Pattys, and we'll answer all your questions."

"Fair enough," Kressa said. "When the Salkairs took me to their office, Gaunis's people were waiting to take me off their hands."

"How d'ya know it was Gaunis's people?" Torch asked.

"They were the same people who arrested me when I arrived on Calton. You saw them, Anna. The commander and his lieutenant."

"So, you did see me at the port." Anna's face reddened slightly, and then she nodded. "Yes, I remember them, but I didn't see what happened in the garage tonight."

"Well, they were there," Kressa said. "And those Salkairs were ready, if not willing, to deliver me into their hands."

"See, Torch? I told you," Anna said under her breath, and gave him a victorious smile.

He responded with an indifferent shrug.

"Told him what?" Kressa asked.

Anna returned her dark eyes to Kressa. "I've been trying to convince these two that there's a connection between Gaunis and Salkair House."

"Doesn't prove nothin', luv," Torch said.

"Of course it does! It proves the Salkairs who brought Kressa in were working for Gaunis."

"Don't you think the high and mighty Admiral G has the credits to buy a coupla Salkair flunkies?" Torch asked.

"They weren't flunkies!" Anna said. "Those were some of Salkairs' top men they sent after Kressa."

"I'm flattered," Kressa muttered.

"Anna's right, Jan," Max said. "One of them was Lusk."

Torch whistled. "Lusk? 'e's heavy-duty Salkair muscle, all right."

"See, Torch?" Anna said triumphantly. "And don't try to tell me some spodge-headed Patrol commander could buy Lusk's services. The orders to turn Kressa over had to come from high up in Salkair."

"Maybe they did and maybe they didn't," Torch said. "Either way—"

"They did," Kressa said. "Lusk talked to The Salkair to confirm the orders."

Torch looked surprised, and then glanced at Anna as she elbowed him gently in the ribs.

"I don't see what difference it makes ta us," he said.

Anna looked abashed. "Torch! If I could get proof that Gaunis is behind this whole Salkair takeover thing, I could finish my thesis and—"

"And what?" Torch interrupted. "Turn it in and 'ave the High Admiral's goons on your doorstep arrestin' you for treason? A degree won't do ya much good on Eminence or in one o' them prison mines you're so fond of believin' in."

Anna sighed in exasperation. "I wouldn't turn the paper in. I'd just like to prove—"

He shook his head. "We'll talk about it later, luv. Right now, we 'ave a guest."

Kressa looked around the room again, gazing at the certificates, the carefully organized data cards on the desk. Put those together with the two young men in the tunnel, Torch and Anna's argument about her thesis, and Halav's description of the Calton Guard forces: a loose affiliation of university students and professors…

"You're with the Guard," Kressa said.

As one, three sets of eyes turned to look at her.

"Says who?" Max asked.

"Halav—er, General Kamick. On Arecia. He said the closest thing Calton had to Guard forces was some students and professors. You help smuggle people out and…" She let her voice trail off as she realized she might be saying too much.

"No, you've got it right," Max assured her. "Go on. What else did the famous General Kamick tell you?"

"Just that he didn't think you existed any longer."

"Well, we do, we're here—" Max rose suddenly to his feet, as if agitated, "—and we need your help."

"Is that why you brought me here?"

He looked at her with a wry smile. "There was also the little matter of making sure you got away from the Salkairs. They're not very friendly when they're angry, and from what I saw, you had them rather riled."

"I didn't do anything to them. Honest."

"I know, you came to do business with the Moorlans. But we'll go over that later. Right now, I want to know if you can help us."

"With what?" Kressa asked.

"I don't know how much General Kamick told you about us," Max said, nervously smoothing his mustache, "but right before we were forced to go into hiding, we were going to move some th'Maran off Calton."

Kressa nodded and struggled to ignore an unbidden image of Emre. "The general mentioned it."

"Well, we rescued a couple of them right out from under the Patrol's noses, but then someone sold us out, and the next th'Maran pick-up turned out to be one of Gaunis's traps. We—lost one of our top people that night…" Max hesitated, and a pained expression flitted briefly across his features. "She was taken alive. Soon after that, Gaunis's men began arresting just about everyone who ever had anything to do with us. Those they weren't able to grab on their first sweep went into hiding." He returned to his seat. "It's only a matter of time before they catch up to them, as well."

"You want me to take them off Calton when I leave?" Kressa asked.

He nodded. "Them and the two th'Maran we rescued."

Kressa brightened. "The th'Maran are alive?"

"Yeah, they're fine, and I'm going to hate to lose their help. But Gaunis knows we've got them, and his men are looking for them. It's not going to be easy to move them."

"Nothing about this trip is turning out to be easy," Kressa said. "I take it you sent Anna to the port to ask this little favor of me?"

"And to warn you about the Patrol's plans to make a grab for you," Max said.

"How did you know I was coming to Calton?"

"The Pattys knew," Torch said. "One of our people has a wire on their comms. That's 'ow we knew they'd be after you."

"How did the Pattys know?"

"Can't answer that one," Torch said with an apologetic shrug.

Kressa nodded. She hadn't really expected him to. "How about this one, then: Why didn't the Pattys pick up Anna at the port? Don't they know she's a member of your organization?"

"Naw, she's a new recruit." Torch slipped an arm around the woman and gave her an affectionate squeeze. "Maxie heard about some of the info 'er thesis work turned up and asked 'er to join up."

"And how could I resist?" Anna kissed Torch on the cheek.

"But what if you reached the port before the Pattys got there, and they saw you with me?" Kressa asked, a little concerned that the girl had taken the risk.

Anna shrugged. "I was the only one in danger. If the Patrol picked me up, there wasn't anything I could tell them."

"But you know about Max and Torch and this place. And you must—"

"What she means to say," Max interrupted, "is that she couldn't tell the Patrol anything. Juoran, one of the th'Maran we rescued, has set memory blocks in all of us. If someone pushes us for information about our operation, that information is quite literally wiped from our conscious minds. We couldn't tell even if we wanted to."

Kressa let out a long, slow breath. She knew that th'Maran abilities varied from one individual to the next, but— "I didn't know th'Maran could do that."

"Well, Juoran can, and we'll have to ask you to let him set up a similar block in you before you leave. Or else let him remove your memories of us completely."

Kressa bit her lip, leery about anyone, even a th'Maran, tampering with her memories, but she nodded reluctant agreement. It was the least she could do to repay them for helping her.

"Where did you get your theory about the Salkairs, Anna?" she asked, eager to turn the conversation back to the matter of Gaunis's involvement in the House. If what Anna believed were true, there might be a way for her to fix a deal with House Moorlan.

"I was studying socio-economics on Maetar and decided to do my thesis on the financial structure of the Calton Houses," Anna said. "But when I checked into it, I discovered that the subject had been done to death. Then I learned that Salkair was beginning to emerge as the dominant House. Nothing like that has ever happened, so I proposed a paper on the causes and effects. The proposal was accepted, and I transferred to Calton to do my research.

"I started stumbling across links to Gaunis almost immediately, and the more I discovered, the dirtier it got. I realized I could never release my findings, so I went to some of my professors about it, and they told me to back off the Gaunis issue and write around his part in the Salkair takeover. They actually said they'd be willing to accept the paper with the omissions!"

"Another false image of the United Galaxy education system shot to hell," Max quipped.

Anna gave him a cross look, and then returned her attention to Kressa. "Anyway, Max heard about what I'd been doing and contacted me about helping him." She glanced across the room at him. "Or maybe he just wanted to save me from my own curiosity."

"About half and half," he said.

"What kind of evidence do you have that Gaunis is connected with the Salkairs?" Kressa asked.

"I have copies of computer files that go back at least fifteen years showing transfers of Salkair funds to accounts linked to Gaunis, and proof that there's not an original Salkair family member left in the House. Plus I can show a strong connection between Salkair, Gaunis, and the sudden appearance of the supposedly synthetic black diamonds that destroyed House Moorlan. I don't believe those diamonds were fakes at all. I'm certain Gaunis has access to a black diamond mine and used slave labor to keep the price down. Not slaves in the classical sense, of course, but Patrol prisoners doing forced labor. I've heard rumors about such things."

"So have I," Kressa said, "and Gaunis's name usually comes up in relation to them." She recalled what Jonathan said about other worlds with black diamond mines. "I think I know where Gaunis's mines are. There are black diamonds on Ularis."

"Gaunis's home world!" Anna exclaimed. "I knew it! I knew he had access to a mine! But… how do you know?"

"Uh… it's kind of the reason I came to Calton."

"For diamonds?" Torch asked.

"Sort of." She shook her head and smiled. "You'll never believe it."

"Try us," Max said.

"For reasons I'm not at liberty to reveal, the Confederacy needs…" She hesitated and glanced from Max to Torch and Anna. "I sure hope I can trust you three."

"You're the one wi' the gun," Torch reminded her.

She smiled. "We need the ore from the diamond mines."

"The ore?" Max said, and then shook his head. "I won't even ask. Which is probably best, since I know you won't tell me. But at least that explains why you wouldn't have anything to do with anyone outside of Moorlan."

"Do you think I have any chance of doing business with the Moorlans, without the Salkairs or Gaunis finding out?"

"I doubt it," Max said. "Everyone's going to be looking for you now: Moorlans, Salkairs, and Gaunis's men alike. I hope you like underground Calton, because you may be spending some time here."

Kressa came to a decision that stripped away all of her former plans. "Fine with me, because I don't plan on leaving until I get what I came for, or run out of ways to try."

"You still gonna talk wi' the Moorlans?" Torch asked.

"Not until I can be sure it's safe. Anna, why do you think Gaunis is interested in Salkair House?"

"Money, for starters," Anna said. "Lots of money. And it's all private; he can spend it any way he wants. Plus, dealing with Salkair gives him a private local army and a convenient way to take care of his enemies. How many people do you think Gaunis has gotten rid of over the past fifteen years by sending them to Calton?"

Kressa shrugged, hesitant to even hazard a guess. "Ten? Fifteen?"

Anna shook her head. "Twenty-seven, at last count. And it would have been twenty-eight if that attempt on Shaw had been successful last night."

"That's almost two a year."

Anna nodded. "Pretty handy planet to own."

"Very handy," Kressa said, "and just what I may need."

"Meaning what exactly?" Max asked.

"Meaning the only way I'm going to get ore from the Moorlans is to get the other interested parties, namely Salkair and Gaunis, out of the way."

"That's quite a task," Max said. "You'd need a lot of intelligence on Salkair strongholds and businesses. And if you're expecting help from us, I'm sorry to say we haven't got the resources or the manpower to take on Salkair. No one on this planet does."

"One man does," Kressa said. "Shaw. But we're going to need solid evidence on Gaunis's involvement in Salkair and as much information as we can get on their operation."

"And where do you propose we get this information?" Max asked.

"The Salkair computer," Kressa said, and then looked at Torch. "You said you can get me anywhere on Calton I want to go? How about back to that building where you found me and into the Salkair's office?"

Torch shrugged. "Can't see why not. When'd ya want ta go?"

"Now. Tonight. As soon as you can get ready."

"Tonight?" Max said. "Are you crazy? The Salkairs—and almost certainly the Patrol, as well—are combing this city for you, and you want to walk into their headquarters?"

"It's the last place they'll look for me."

"She's right, Max," Anna said. "And if there's information anywhere to settle this Gaunis thing, it'll be inside the Salkair computer."

"And how do you—either of you—propose we get this information out of the computer?" Max asked. "The Salkairs will have passwords and software bombs around every corner. All you'll do is announce to the entire operation that you're sitting in the Salkair's office waiting for them to come get you."

Anna's shoulders slumped, and even Kressa had to admit that Max had a telling point. Still, there had to be a way…

Without warning, the apartment door opened. Two figures stood in the dark hallway, the shorter one with the wiry build of an adolescent—or a slender woman.

Kressa gasped. Ayres and Paige!