End Game

  “What I need is the lav.” The captain jerked his thumb toward the corridor.

  Tomich slunk out, though he appeared more amused by all of this than chastised. He frowned at Leonidas, but walked past him without comment. The two officers who had been looking into the lav continued down the corridor once the captain walked inside. Alisa scooted out, and the door thudded shut behind her. She and Leonidas stood alone in the corridor.

  He gave her the blandest look she’d ever seen and held out his tray. “Amuse-bouche?”

  “Amuse what?”

  “Beck said that’s the proper term for his snacks. They amuse your mouth.”

  “Ah.” Not wanting to be there when the captain finished in the lav, Alisa headed toward the main hall. Maybe Leonidas hadn’t seen the kiss or heard the conversation about asses. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, finding that unlikely.

  He looked over his shoulder in the direction that Tomich had gone. “Is this the time for snide comments regarding pretty men and bedrooms?”

  “I think it would be appropriate.” She wrapped an arm around his waist as they walked. “But Tomich isn’t that pretty. And he’s not as good of a kisser as he thinks.”

  “Can I punch him if he tries to use you again to improve upon his skills?”

  “Absolutely. What are you doing up here? Where’d your playmates go?”

  “I heard the voices of the officers and came to check on you. Young-hee is entertaining the cyborgs.”

  “Those two are major assholes,” she said, lowering her voice as they approached the end of the corridor. Henneberry was still talking out there, but if Leonidas had heard the officers from out by the food tables, the cyborgs might hear their conversation now. “Who are they?”

  “A private and a corporal.” He slowed to a stop before they reached the hall. “They enlisted late in the war, less than two years before the end. They were both in jail and given the option of joining and having the surgeries as an alternative to a long sentence. Sometimes, the discipline of the military straightens people out; sometimes, it doesn’t. For them, it wasn’t long before their files came across my desk in a matter that required punishment. They both would have been booted out, or sent back to jail, if we hadn’t been so in need of personnel.” His mouth twisted with bitterness. “I recognize them because they were on Tandari Base, fighting alongside the men who died defending the emperor. As far as I knew, they were dead. The only reason I made it out was because the emperor ordered me to take Thorian and escape. If those two are alive, it’s because they found a way to flee, a way to abandon Markus.” His eyes burned with indignation. “For them to show up here, with cushy jobs on some luxury boat…” He ground his teeth.

  She squeezed his waist. “Maybe they’ll irk Tymoteusz, and he’ll use the staff to shake all their implants out through their noses.”

  “Would it be immature to hope for that?” Leonidas shifted his tray to one hand and wrapped an arm around her.

  “I’m certainly going to.”

  His eyes glinted. “That didn’t answer my question.”

  She turned her consoling arm squeeze into a slap on the butt, then reluctantly let him go. Henneberry’s voice had stopped, so maybe her speech was wrapping up.

  “We better get back in there before Young-hee gets into trouble with those two,” she said.

  “Agreed.”

  A crash sounded, dozens of glasses breaking. Alisa and Leonidas rushed out of the corridor in time to see a man hurtling across the room to land on one of the stone tables, sending trays of food flying. It was Beck.

  Chapter 14

  Alisa ran toward the tables as the trays struck the floor, red and white sauces spattering the stone tiles and the nearby wall. Sauce struck guests standing nearby, too, though they’d started scattering as soon as Beck landed on his back. He groaned now, lifting his head and looking in the direction from which he’d come. Leonidas charged that way, placing himself between Beck and the table and a group of men that were fighting, exchanging punches.

  Alisa’s first thought was that they were White Dragon people who remembered Beck and the trouble they’d had with him. But none of the men chased after him. They were too busy attacking each other. A portly fellow with a drooping mustache was flung so hard that he skidded across the floor, landing at the feet of another table. Alisa rushed to Beck’s side, helping him to his feet.

  “What’s happening?” she asked. “What did you do?”

  Other groups of people were backing away from the fight, but a few men ran toward it instead. Someone drew a blazer pistol.

  “Me?” Beck asked, trying to wipe red sauce off his white jacket. “Nothing. I was just offering someone wine.” He waved to a tray and dozens of broken glasses on the floor near the group, even as someone ran through the area and slipped on the spilled wine.

  The two cyborgs appeared, charging in to stop the fight. Whitey grabbed the blazer pistol before it could be fired, then crumpled it between his hands and threw it at the owner’s feet. Scar stepped between two men throwing punches, gripped each of them by the shirtfronts, and hoisted them into the air. Someone else darted away from the group, reaching into his jacket. The man made the mistake of running into Leonidas’s orbit. Leonidas grabbed him, yanking a bullet-firing revolver from his holster, and lifted him into the air. The man’s legs kept pumping, as if he might run away while he dangled a foot above the ground.

  With the hulking cyborgs in the mix, the fight soon quieted. But by now, the hundreds of people occupying the hall were looking toward the group.

  “Put him down,” Alisa whispered to Leonidas. The other two cyborgs might have picked him out for what he was, but he didn’t need to demonstrate his strength so everyone would know.

  Leonidas lowered his captive to the floor, but pulled the man’s arms behind his back to restrain him so he couldn’t run.

  “Well,” Henneberry said from the far side of the hall—she’d been giving her speech from a stage in front of the large portholes. “I guess that means the Carvers and the Clariday family are not open to working together for the collective attainment of power beyond anything any of us have known.”

  That drew a few wary chuckles.

  Henneberry’s voice was dry, but a hint of exasperation touched it too. She stepped down from her stage and strode toward the fight. The cyborgs had separated the troublemakers, so she must have deemed it safe. Alisa drew back behind the table, ostensibly to clean up the fallen trays, but mostly to stay out of the woman’s sight. She wished Leonidas would let his captive go and do the same. The man in his grip, however, was straining and trying to get away from him, his face red, and his fingers flexing as he glared at a white-haired man still in the group.

  Henneberry stopped and addressed Scar. “Take them to their shuttles, and see to it that they leave.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  That’s the tip of the iceberg, Abelardus spoke into Alisa’s mind.

  She spotted him halfway across the hall, holding an empty tray under his arm and talking to a trio of women.

  What is? That fight?

  The tensions in here are high in case you didn’t notice. Henneberry is lucky that didn’t devolve into a full-fledged war with everybody picking sides and leaping into the fray. She’s starting to regret that she came to these people with her plan.

  Who else would join her in a scheme to try and take over the system? Alisa asked.

  Exactly her reasoning for gathering the mafia families. But if these people could work together cohesively, they could have taken over the system centuries ago.

  After Scar and Whitey shuffled out of the hall, leading the troublemakers, some by their collars, Henneberry approached Leonidas. He’d released his captive to the care of the others, but he hadn’t moved into hiding behind the table, as Alisa wished. He was standing out there like a guardian, glaring at anyone who looked like trouble.

  “It’s odd how many cyborgs I’m running into lately,”
Henneberry said, peering fearlessly up at his face.

  “Ma’am,” he said, ducking his head and making his voice gruff.

  “How many were left alive in the Cyborg Corps at the end of the war?” She squinted at him, and Alisa groaned to herself, certain suspicion lurked in her eyes.

  “Couldn’t say, ma’am.”

  “Clive,” Alisa called, waving from behind the table. “Will you come help me clean up this mess?”

  Beck walked out and sidled in between Henneberry and Leonidas. “Ma’am, do you want us to continue serving?”

  Her gaze shifted from Leonidas to Beck. “Just clean up the mess and keep the drinks flowing.”

  Yes, that was just what this shindig needed. More alcohol.

  Henneberry called out to several people in the crowd and waved for them to follow her. The selected parties headed off to join her near the corridor Alisa had been up before. Bodyguards peeled away from the walls to trail behind. Yumi’s mafia prince was among the group. So was the blue-suited man, and he gave Leonidas a curious look as he crossed the hall. Henneberry was also looking at Leonidas again, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. Her gaze did not shift until her group had fully gathered, and she led them up the corridor.

  Those are the ones that are important, powerful, and also willing to work together, Abelardus informed Alisa. That would be a good meeting to spy on.

  Can you do it from a distance? I don’t think we’re going to be invited in. Alisa didn’t want to ask if Henneberry’s group needed drink service, not when her team had already garnered suspicious looks.

  Four cleaning robots whirred out of the corridor and headed over to the sauce-spattered floor. Alisa backed away before one could run over her foot in its determination to fulfill its mission.

  Yumi and Young-hee returned to the tables and helped Alisa clean up what the robots couldn’t handle. A few more people came by for drinks and snacks, but after Henneberry left, the guests started dispersing.

  Chef Lunquist approached the table. “You can pack up and head out now. Leave some of the grilled fish, eggplant, and brittle. Those were Ms. Henneberry’s favorites, and she’d like leftovers.” Lunquist sniffed, as if the idea of some old leftovers was beneath her.

  “Of course, Chef,” Beck said.

  “Our security people are busy so you can see yourselves out.”

  Beck waited for her to leave before telling Alisa, “Best news we’ve had. Our departure should be painless. Did you get the thing done?”

  Alisa nodded, though she worried things wouldn’t be as painless as he thought. That long look Henneberry had given Leonidas as she walked out lingered in her mind. Was it possible she’d figured out who he was?

  They packed the food quickly, Abelardus not returning until they were almost ready to go. He waved and smiled at the three young women he’d been entertaining. They tittered and waved back. Alisa rolled her eyes. She couldn’t imagine that they were important people within their own rights. Someone’s daughters, perhaps.

  Young-hee scowled at him as he joined them. “You’d have more luck securing a relationship with a woman if you weren’t openly flirting with others.”

  He blinked at her. “I’m not seeking to secure a relationship with a woman. The captain hasn’t seen fit to toss her cyborg aside and embrace me with open arms.”

  “That’s because she’s wise,” Young-hee muttered, stacking trays firmly enough that they clanged.

  “And because cyborgs are too big to toss aside,” Alisa murmured, watching Young-hee’s irritated expression and Abelardus’s oblivious one.

  For people who could read minds, the Starseers weren’t as all-knowing as one might expect.

  “Is there anything you want to search before leaving?” Leonidas asked Alisa quietly as the group made the final preparations. He nodded toward the banquet hall, where only a handful of groups remained. “This might be the easiest time to explore without being questioned.”

  Alisa hesitated. She didn’t want to explore the massive yacht, but she was tempted to try and find a way to eavesdrop on that meeting. But she’d already planted the tracking device, and lingering and poking around would only be suspicious. If they were caught, Henneberry’s people might look more deeply into their identifications—and what they had been doing here in addition to delivering food. Besides, stopping this mafia alliance wasn’t her job. The Alliance was here keeping an eye on things. All she needed was to be led to Thorian, so she could keep her word to her daughter. And to Leonidas.

  “No,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  Leaving the cleaning robots whirring along the floor behind the tables, Alisa and the others carried their trays toward the shuttle bay. Despite her words to Leonidas, she was tempted to explore some of the side passages along the way. But to what end? They would only find trouble, she was certain.

  Leonidas was leading the way, and he slowed down as they neared the Glastica door to the bay.

  “Problem?” Alisa murmured, peering around his shoulder.

  She glimpsed blue uniforms through the clear doors. A lot of them.

  “Someone waiting for us?” she added.

  “Many someones,” Leonidas said. “They’re armed.”

  He looked toward Young-hee.

  “Give me a moment,” she whispered, resting her palm on the bulkhead and closing her eyes.

  “Sorry, you’re out of moments,” a voice said from behind them.

  Leonidas must have heard Scar approach, because he’d already put his back to the wall and was looking in that direction. Scar and Whitey stood at the last intersection the group had passed, each carrying big blazer rifles. They were blocking the passage, making sure the only way Alisa’s team could go was into the shuttle bay.

  “Explain yourselves,” Alisa said, but she feared she already knew what had happened. Someone watching the cameras had noticed her sneaking into that linen closet and had gone in and found the tracking device.

  “You didn’t think it odd that you people, nobody caterers with nobody credentials, were picked for this party?” Scar asked, smirking.

  “Uh.” Beck lifted a finger. “I am not a nobody in the culinary world.”

  Scar grunted. “You’re a puny little zero. All of you are. You didn’t get worried when so many important people were discussing their plans for galactic domination in front of you?”

  Alisa stared at him. She hadn’t been discovered, after all? They were in trouble simply because they had taken the job? No wonder no one else had wanted it…

  She noticed Leonidas signaling to Abelardus and decided to keep the cyborgs talking if she could.

  “Technically, they’re only trying to dominate the system,” Alisa said. “Unless CargoExpress has faster-than-light technology it hasn’t unveiled yet.”

  “Wouldn’t be surprised if that was next,” Scar said. “Imagine how quickly your packages would arrive. But you, sadly, won’t live to see that day.” He took a step forward, pointing his blazer in Leonidas’s direction. “Where do you think you’re going, pretend-mech? You’re an embarrassment to everyone who’s made the sacrifice to serve.”

  I’m going to make a barrier to stop them, Abelardus spoke into Alisa’s mind, and Leonidas is going to run out and deal with the security men in the bay. You, Young-hee, Yumi, and Beck are to run to the shuttle and get inside. Just stay out of the way, and don’t get hit.

  “What sacrifice?” Alisa propped her fists on her hips, hoping to keep Scar’s attention on her. She didn’t like the idea of Leonidas flinging himself into a battle with dozens of armed men when he wasn’t wearing his armor, but she couldn’t argue the plan with him without alerting the cyborgs. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Leonidas heading for the door and Abelardus moving up toward her. “I heard you two were plucked out of jail to be cannon fodder for the empire,” she added, keeping the cyborgs’ gazes on her.

  She couldn’t imagine it mattered now if Leonidas’s cover was blown, and she was rewarded with
an exchange of startled looks between the two cyborgs.

  “Now,” Leonidas whispered, and charged the door, flinging it open. He disappeared into the bay, and gunfire opened up, blazers squealing and bullets cracking.

  The cyborgs fired, crimson beams streaking toward Alisa and Abelardus, and her heart leaped into her throat. Instincts drove her to dive to the floor, trying to dodge the blazer bolts. But they bounced off an invisible barrier halfway between Abelardus and the cyborgs.

  “If you’re done inspecting the deck for dirt, you could get to the shuttle,” Abelardus told her, glancing down.

  Alisa scowled, but didn’t reply. They had to hurry. It sounded like an entire battalion of men out there firing at Leonidas. She jumped up and caught up with Beck, Yumi, and Young-hee just inside the door. She wanted to burst out and hurry to get to the shuttle, so Leonidas wouldn’t have to draw fire for long, but Beck was blocking the way.

  “Go,” she urged. “We’re supposed to run to the shuttle.”

  An orange blazer beam slammed into the Glastica, and Beck jumped back. A crater appeared in the door, smoke wafting upward.

  “Just waiting for an opening,” Beck said.

  “Sorry,” Alisa said. “I see that.”

  She couldn’t see Leonidas from the corridor, and it made her crazy with worry. Her shoulder blades also itched, because she could hear the cyborgs behind her, firing relentlessly at Abelardus’s barrier. They had advanced and were shooting point blank. She didn’t know how much energy his barrier could absorb before it faltered.

  My shield and I can go all night long, Captain, he drawled into her mind.

  The concentration on his face and the sweat already dripping down his temple belied the statement.

  “He’s got them following him around those shuttles over there,” Beck said. “We better risk it. If they get him…”

  “They’re not going to get him,” Alisa said firmly. It seemed like a good time for optimism.

  “Now,” Beck whispered, and pushed open the door. He used his body to protect them from the bay—a few men in blue were visible, but they were on the far side and focused on something in the corner.