Proxy

Avalon - 0.5

by

Mindee Arnett

To Eri Joe Arnett

CHAPTER 01

THE THRILL OF THE JOB NEVER GOT OLD. JETH SEAGRAVE lived for it. For the way the anticipation sent electricity pulsing through his veins, making his blood burn hotter, his heart beat harder, and sharpening his senses until he felt like something more than human. A superhero from one of the ancient myths of First Earth, perhaps.

You’re no hero. The automatic thought skidded through his mind, barely registering. No, he wasn’t. He was a thief. One of the best.

And that was all that mattered. Never mind that he was only sixteen. Never mind that most of his crew was even younger. Together they were an unstoppable force, a gang of teenage thieves their adult marks never saw coming. The thrill pulsed harder inside him, and with an effort he focused on the nav monitor in front of him. They would be entering the patrolled zone around the planet Grakkus soon.

To his left, Celeste piloted the Debonair forward, her hands steady on the control column. Jeth would’ve preferred to pilot this job—he would prefer to pilot every job—but he and Celeste took turns. All the members of the Malleus Shades held specific roles that played to their strengths. Celeste’s forte was counterintelligence, particularly the art of distracting marks. Jeth’s was strategy, and he typically took point on every job. But when it came to piloting, he and Celeste were equally matched.

Jeth drew a breath, still struggling to focus. He couldn’t help it. The upcoming job was the most challenging, complicated one they’d taken on yet. The target was located in a vault at the top of a tower accessible only through the emperor of Grakkus’s personal bedchambers—not some insignificant politician or petty crime lord, but an emperor. Pulling it off would be like flying a spaceship through a solar storm without getting fried. A grin threatened to break on his face. The job was going to be fun, and had a payout well worth the risk.

At last the nav computer flashed an indicator that they were heading into the patrolled zone.

Celeste glanced at him, her dark eyes narrowing. Straight black hair hung in a blunt cut down to her shoulders. “Are you going to turn on the stealth drive or what?”

“I’m thinking about it.” A part of him didn’t want to. The so-called stealth drive was brand-new and untested, at least by the Shades. If it didn’t work, things were going to get a whole lot more interesting real quick. And if it did work, well, then things weren’t going to get interesting. He couldn’t decide which he preferred.

In the end, Celeste made the decision for him, reaching over to a switch on a sleek new section of the control panel. Jeth sighed. It was the right thing to do, of course, and there would be plenty of risks to be had once they landed.

Or it might not work properly, he thought, examining the nav monitor once more. Best not to blindly trust some newfangled technology. Within minutes he spotted a blip on the monitor, a patrol to their starboard. The ship was far off, but within range to scan them.

“What should I do?” A hint of panic colored Celeste’s voice. They had never before flown so boldly through a patrolled area.

“Hold course,” Jeth said, not taking his eyes off the blip. So far the patrol ship hadn’t given any sign that it had spotted them.

“You sure you’re right?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Celeste snorted. “Do you want an honest answer?”

“Nope. I prefer my own version of the truth.”

“Right.” Celeste tightened her grip on the controls. According to the instructions they’d received from their employer, who owned the Debonair, the stealth drive worked best when the ship maintained a constant speed and course. Any sharp turns or drastic acceleration or deceleration could turn up on a system scanning for thruster signatures, stealth drive or no.

Maybe it was for the best that Celeste was piloting, Jeth realized. He would’ve been tempted to test the theory of what constituted “drastic.”

They passed out of range of the patrol a few minutes later, and Jeth sat back in the copilot’s chair, folding his arms across his chest as he tried to ignore his disappointment. They flew within range of three more patrols but moved past them without incident, finally breaching Grakkus’s atmosphere.

Once through, Celeste headed for their rendezvous point, an isolated forested area a few hundred kilometers outside the capital city. Beyond the bridge’s main windows, the first rays of sunlight were breasting the horizon, heralded by a swath of purple, pink, and vermillion.

At last Celeste set the Debonair down on a large stretch of tall grass the color of seaweed. She powered off the engines but turned on the auxiliary, which would keep the shipboard systems running, including the stealth drive. It wasn’t likely that anyone would spot them out here—the place was well off the main thoroughfares, not to mention how inhospitable the swamp surrounding them was—but Jeth decided not to point that out.

Celeste stood and stretched, the movement languid as if she were part cat. The dark, fitted clothing she wore aided the illusion. “So, what now?”

Jeth checked his watch, which he’d synced to Grakkus time. “I say breakfast or lunch, whichever works, and then a couple hours’ R and R. The setup man’s not due to arrive until fourteen hundred.” They’d had to get here early to avoid being detected during landing. The stealth drive hid them from sight, but it couldn’t disguise the sound of the engines or the wind raised by the thrusters.

“Think I’m going to shower again, before—” Celeste broke off as a voice echoed over the ship’s comm system.

“Um, Boss? We sorta have a situation. You might want to get down to the common room.”

Jeth blinked, all his disappointment from their unadventurous journey vanishing in the space of a single breath. It wasn’t often that Will Shady sounded nervous.

Wondering if maybe the ship was on fire, Jeth turned and headed off the bridge with Celeste quick on his heels. They arrived in the common room on the deck below moments later. Jeth stopped in the doorway, surveying the scene. There wasn’t a fire. There wasn’t anything amiss at all, as far as he could tell. Shady was sitting on one of the sofas, his attention focused on the 3D projection from his portable gaming system, a wave of bloodthirsty robots coming at him, each one falling to his simulated gunfire. The comm unit he’d used to radio the bridge sat discarded on the sofa beside him, in danger of being swallowed by a cushion.

Jeth approached him. “What are you doing?”

“Practicing,” Shady said, not looking up. The scowl on his face as he let off a triple blast, drilling a robot right between its bulbous black eyes, made his features look distinctly leonine, the appearance aided by his shaggy mane of blond hair. Shady’s assigned role in the Malleus Shades was ordnance officer.

Jeth put his hands on his hips. “We’re not going to be shooting anybody on this job. And please tell me this wasn’t the thing I needed to see.”

Shady shook his head. “Nope. It’s in that storage locker.” He pointed to the row of lockers along the wall across from them. “The one in the middle.”

Jeth arched an eyebrow. He considered pressing Shady for more, but knew there wasn’t much point. All the crew dealt with prejob nerves in different ways, and once engrossed in his ritual video game, it was hard to get Shady to concern himself with anything else.

Jeth crossed the floor to the locker in question, wondering where the Debonair had been last. Their employer used the ship for lots of different jobs, and it was possible it had been parked planetside someplace where a wild animal could’ve gotten in. An image of something furry and clawed and with teeth the size of fingers flashed through Jeth’s mind. He wasn’t wearing a gun, and he briefly considered getting one before finding out what had Shady so nervous, but then he shrugged and pulled the door open.

There was something alive in there all right, but it wasn’t a wild animal. Still, it took Jeth several moments to come to grips with what it was. Who it was.

“Lizzie,” he said, gritting his teeth hard enough that pain shot through his jaw. “What are you doing here?”

His little sister grinned at him, and her response came out more question than statement. “Um, I took a wrong turn and got stuck?” She twirled a finger through her auburn hair as she spoke.

“Hilarious,” Jeth said, fury bubbling up inside him. Lizzie had been begging him to go on a job for weeks now, ever since she’d started training to take over the tech ops position. At twenty, their current tech was getting too old to remain with the Shades. But Lizzie wasn’t ready to take his place yet. As far as Jeth was concerned, she would never be ready. Not that he had the final say in it, of course. Their employer, the infamous crime lord Hammer Dafoe, had that.

But Jeth was certain Hammer hadn’t approved this.

“It’s true. Shady locked me in.” Lizzie pointed at Shady, who looked up from his game.

“Did not.” He frowned. “Not the first time, anyway.” He glanced at Jeth. “I just found her in there, Boss. Right as we were landing, she tried to let herself out but couldn’t.”

Lizzie’s ears went pink. “I didn’t know I couldn’t open it from the inside.” She fixed a glare at Shady. “And thanks for locking me in again, by the way.”

Shady shrugged and returned his attention to the game. “I didn’t want Jeth blaming me for this.”

“Coward,” Celeste said, her tone more matter-of-fact than accusatory.

Shady shrugged again, a hint of a grin curving the edges of his lips.

“Lizzie.” Jeth made her name sound like a curse. He understood at once what had happened. She had snuck in while they were preparing to leave and decided to stow away in the locker until they were far enough from home that they couldn’t turn back.

Yeah, well, she’s got another thing coming.

“It was an accident, I swear.” That grin spread across Lizzie’s face again, the dappling of freckles on her nose and cheeks doing its best to convince Jeth of her innocence but failing.

He glanced at Celeste. “Go spool up the engines. It’s early enough that we should be able to break atmo without drawing attention.”

“What?” three voices said in unison around him.

Jeth swept his gaze over the room. “I’m in charge, and I say we’re aborting this job.”

Celeste jammed her hands onto her hips. “That’s crazy, Jeth.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Hammer will kill us,” said Shady, tossing his gaming unit onto the sofa and standing up. He was taller and bigger than Jeth, but it didn’t matter. Jeth wasn’t backing down on this.

“He’ll get over it. It’s not safe for her to be here. She’s just a kid.”

“I’m almost thirteen,” said Lizzie. “I’ll be fine.”

The argument quickly escalated into a shouting match. But they all fell silent a few seconds later as a new person entered the common room. Trent Danforth was the only adult on board, and not officially a member of the Malleus Shades. He wasn’t supposed to be here, but their usual tech had fallen sick right before they’d left, and Danforth was the only one with the skills necessary to take his place.

Danforth surveyed the scene with his small eyes like glass beads protuberant on his wrinkle-lined face. “What the hell is going on in here?”

Jeth clenched his jaw, automatic resentment prickling his skin. Danforth’s presence on this job had been one unexpected challenge that he hadn’t welcomed. Once upon a time Danforth had been leader of the Shades, functioning as Jeth’s mentor until he was experienced enough to lead on his own. But Jeth had never liked the man, and he wasn’t about to let him take command of the Shades once again.

“Jeth wants to ditch the job and take me home,” Lizzie said, folding her twiglike arms across her chest.

For a second Danforth looked like he might laugh, but then he fixed his gaze on Jeth, schooling his face into a diplomatic expression. “Why does she need to go back?”

Jeth opened his mouth to respond but then clamped it shut. He had reasons. A ton of them. But deep down he knew he was being irrational. She could remain on tech ops with Danforth and not end up anywhere near danger. His need to protect her was so ingrained that he would’ve locked her inside a plastic bubble if he could. Their parents were dead, and he was all she had looking out for her.

Lizzie huffed. “I don’t need to go back. Jeth’s just being overprotective, as usual.”

“Hmmm,” Danforth said, scratching the patched stubble on his chin. He had a permanently stooped appearance, his shoulders rolled forward at a natural tilt. “The right of an older brother, I think.”

“Yeah, but I’m ready to do this,” said Lizzie. “I’ve been ready. Not to mention I’m brilliant.”

Danforth smiled, revealing yellowed teeth turning to brown. “So I’ve heard.” He shifted his gaze to Jeth. “It’s your decision, naturally, but we are already here, and there’s no way for us to get home and back again in time for the party.”

“I know that,” said Jeth. He also knew that tonight might be their only chance to infiltrate the palace. The emperor was throwing a massive ball to celebrate his granddaughter’s sixteenth birthday. The place would be full of teenagers, making it easy for Jeth to blend in. The plans for this job had been in the works for months.

“And,” Danforth went on, “Hammer will be sending her out on missions soon. There’s no avoiding that. It seems to me this is an ideal one for her to get her feet wet on. She’ll be safe in the truck with me.”

Jeth chewed on the tip of his tongue, thinking it over. He hated when Danforth was right, but he couldn’t deny the logic. That was the curse of being leader: having to make decisions with your head instead of your feelings. The danger for the tech ops on this job was lower than usual, and despite Jeth’s personal dislike for the man, Danforth was good at tech ops. One of the best.

And the money’s too good to let go, a cold, hard voice spoke in his mind. That was why he did this, why he pulled jobs, risking his life and the lives of his crew. Every little bit he earned brought him closer to the only thing he truly wanted: to buy back Avalon from Hammer. The spaceship was all he had left of his dead parents. And she was his gateway to freedom.

An image of Avalon formed in his mind. His beautiful, infallible ship. This job would put her closer to his reach, the dream one step nearer to realization.

Jeth exhaled, forcing the overprotective, big-brother part of himself to be silent. He fixed his fiercest gaze on his little sister. “All right. You can stay. But you do everything you’re told. The first time. No questions, no arguing, or I’ll put you back in that locker and leave you there. Forever.”

“Yes, sir.” Lizzie saluted him, snapping her heels together.

Jeth rolled his eyes, his excitement for this job dissipating like vapor in strong sunlight. He’d been planning to court a little mischief while he rubbed elbows with the rich and ridiculous nobles of Grakkus, but he would have to resist the urge now. He would get in, do the job, and get out. No glitches. No unnecessary risks.

And no fun.

He glared at Lizzie one last time. If he didn’t love her so much, he would kill her. But he could tell by the grin on her face—one that didn’t falter despite the heat in his expression—that she would be having fun enough for both of them.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, as if he’d swallowed liquid lead just beginning to solidify, he realized she was far too much like him for his peace of mind.

And there was nothing he could do about it now.

CHAPTER 02

A FEW HOURS LATER, JETH MET THE CREW IN THE CARGO bay. Celeste gave a wolf whistle the moment he stepped into full view.

“Sexy,” she said, her gaze taking in his outfit, a shiny silver dress shirt with a V-neck collar that exposed a fair acreage of bare chest as well as a pair of black leather pants so tight he could barely raise his knees.

Jeth adjusted the collar, trying to get it to lie flat. His party getup was on the ridiculous side—the pants uncomfortable and the material of the shirt silky and clingy enough that it could’ve been used for women’s lingerie—but one of Hammer’s consultants had picked it out, claiming it was the height of teen fashion on Grakkus. Jeth hoped to hell the woman wasn’t crazy.

Hiding his annoyance with a smirk, he said, “You’re just jealous I get to wear the cool, sexy clothes for once.”

“Damn straight.” Celeste grimaced as she glanced down at her own black and white tuxedo getup. Jeth thought she had a point. The servant’s outfit made her look boyish—a description he never would’ve believed he would apply to her.

Jeth took in the others. Lizzie was still wearing the clothes she’d snuck on board with, but Shady now sported a khaki-colored uniform with a large blue W embroidered over the left breast pocket above the name JACKSON.

Standing beside him, Flynn Emerson looked ridiculous in the bio-suit he’d already donned for his unfortunate part in the job. The dark rubbery material hung in thick folds over his slight frame, weighing him down. A sheen of sweat covered his narrow, pointed face, but he didn’t seem to mind as he popped a half-melted piece of chocolate into his mouth. Flynn’s role in the Shades was that of repairman and all-around mechanical genius.

“Where’s Danforth?” Jeth asked, looking around. He had to scrunch up his right eye to see. The contact lens was still bothering him, even though he’d put it in hours ago to give himself time to adjust to its feel. He despised wearing the thing, but he would need it to bypass the security in the emperor’s tower.

Flynn licked his thumb and then cocked it over his shoulder. “He’s saying hello to the setup man.”

“Huh.” Frowning, Jeth headed across the cargo bay and down the ramp. The bright glow of genuine sunshine made his eyes ache. He hadn’t been planetside in a long time, and the shock of natural sunlight pierced his forehead. He squinted against it, finally making out Danforth and another man standing beside a Wellforth delivery truck. Like Shady, both Danforth and the setup man wore khaki uniforms.

Oppressive heat enveloped Jeth like a fog as he crossed the wet, squishy ground toward them. The trees in the distance drooped beneath the weight of vines and overgrowth.

“Oh, there you are, Jeth,” Danforth said. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you, but the truck arrived ahead of schedule.”

“Better early than late,” the setup man said. He had a plain, uninteresting face aside from a bulbous nose that looked like some knobby outgrowth of tree bark rather than human flesh.

“This is Jeth Seagrave,” said Danforth. “He’s in charge.”

“So I’ve heard.” The man took in Jeth’s appearance with a disbelieving expression.

Jeth didn’t let it bother him. It wasn’t the first time an adult had dismissed him based on age. On the contrary, that sort of underestimation was what made him so good at this job.

“This is Mark Hilty,” Danforth said, gesturing unnecessarily. As his arm moved, a stench of body odor combined with some underlying chemical smell that Jeth associated with public toilets struck his nose, gagging him. He held his breath and stepped to the right, away from Danforth. The man’s hygiene was a contributing factor in Jeth’s dislike of him.

Mark Hilty held out a hand and Jeth shook it.

“So, what have we got?” Jeth asked.

Hilty turned and walked to the back of the truck. It was a standard Wellforth Corporation anti-grav truck, wide and long and with an outer shell built like a tank. He keyed the code into the rear door lock and the ramp lowered, letting out a puff of cold air. Hilty stepped inside, where more than a dozen barrels containing the various wines, beers, and other alcohols Wellforth was famous for stood lined up on either side with a narrow walkway between them.

He shouted over his shoulder, “We need to move some of these out.”

Jeth peered up the ramp and watched as the man grabbed a dolly and then hoisted up one of the barrels nearest the front with it. He wheeled the barrel outside, pried off the lid with a tool from his belt, and then shoved it over, spewing champagne all over the ground.

“Got to make room for the decoys,” Hilty said.

Jeth nodded. Five decoy barrels waited in the cargo bay of the Debonair. Jeth and the others had loaded them before they’d left the spaceport. On the outside, the decoys looked identical to the barrels in the truck, but inside they were lined with a special material that would hide their true contents from the security scanners the truck would pass through on the way into the palace.

Human contents, Jeth remembered. The thought made him squirm. He, Celeste, Flynn, and Lizzie would have to squeeze inside those barrels, hiding out for however long it took to get through the checkpoint. Not long, he hoped, palming sweat off the back of his neck. He’d been planetside only a few minutes and already a part of him craved the cool, constant atmosphere of space. They were lucky that they’d brought an extra barrel just in case, although it had never crossed Jeth’s mind that he would need one to hide his sister inside.

“When you get back,” Hilty was saying, “we’ll swap your barrels out again so I can turn in the truck with the normal ones.”

“Okay.” Jeth checked his watch; they were right on schedule.

As Hilty headed up the ramp to retrieve the next barrel, Jeth turned toward the cargo entrance where the crew waited in the cooler air. “Let’s get to work.” He waved at the lot of them before stepping up onto the ramp into the truck.

“Hold on a second,” Danforth called to him. “Don’t you think you should sit this one out? You don’t want to get to the party all sweaty and reeking.”

You’re definitely the expert on stenches, Jeth thought. He bit his tongue to keep from saying it aloud. And here was another reason he despised Danforth so much—his knack for making Jeth feel stupid. He wasn’t, and no matter how uncertain Danforth made him, Jeth knew he was more than capable of leading this mission alone. He’d done it on dozens of jobs since Danforth had left the Shades.

Still, he’d learned a long time ago that failing to heed helpful input was a sign of incompetent leadership, so he swallowed his pride and reentered the air-conditioned cargo bay.

While the others helped unload the barrels, he double-checked the four bags of supplies they were bringing along. The first contained the electronic equipment, a master control hub and a comm unit, while the second held a flashlight, a couple of wrenches, and a handheld scanner. The third contained the explosives for Shady’s portion of the job, and the fourth held their usual cache of weapons, just in case.

“Hey, Liz,” Jeth called as she stepped into view from the back of the truck.

She walked up the ramp and came to a stop just inside the shade, wiping sweat from her brow. The heat and humidity had turned her already curly hair into a frizzy nest that no brush would ever see its way through unaided. “What’s up?”

“You know how to use this?” Jeth held up the Mirage 9mm he’d selected from the weapons cache. The safety was on and the clip detached, held in his other hand.

She wrinkled her nose. “Of course. Weapons study is part of my training for the Malleus Shades.”

Jeth had known it was, but her answer wasn’t good enough. “Prove it.” He held out the gun with one hand and the loaded clip with the other.

Lizzie eyed the gun warily. Jeth knew guns weren’t her favorite things. But if she was going to make it as one of the Shades, she’d have to get over it.

Sighing, Lizzie took the gun and clip from him, and then with surprising speed, she shoved the clip into place, flipped off the safety, and took aim. “Rock,” she said, calling her target.

A half second later, the loud report of gunfire vibrated Jeth’s ears, and he saw a hole appear in the surface of a giant rock lying a few meters to the left of the cargo bay. The rock was close and made for a large target, but she’d managed to hit it, even if the shot was far from center.

“That’ll have to do for now, I suppose,” Jeth said. “But you need to work on centering your aim.”

Lizzie made a face.

“I’m serious, Liz. Not all your targets will be big or standing still.”

“I’m tech ops, Jeth. How often will I really need to shoot something?”

Not someone but something. Jeth sighed at her naiveté. The beginnings of a lecture about how jobs were unpredictable and that you couldn’t count on anything formed in his mind, but he held back. There wasn’t time for it now.

“Often enough.” He took the Mirage from her, turning on the safety once more but leaving the clip in place. He returned it to the weapons bag, and then together he and Lizzie placed all the equipment in one of the barrels.

Once the decoy barrels were loaded on the truck, they were ready to leave. Jeth, Celeste, Lizzie, and Flynn filed into the cargo hold while Danforth and Shady took the front. They left the narrow door between the cab and cargo open, allowing those in back to see where they were going for as long as possible.

“Don’t be late getting back,” Hilty called through the opened driver’s window, his gaze fixed on Jeth. “I’ve got to get the truck turned in to headquarters by oh-six-hundred or it’s my ass.”

Jeth smirked. “We’ll be there yesterday.”

Hilty didn’t respond, but Jeth registered the doubt in his eyes. He decided to take it as a challenge.

Shady started the engine, and the truck lifted into the air, forcing Hilty to step back. The next moment they were on their way, zooming over the road carved through the forest. They soon passed out of the woods into farmland. Row after row of silkwater plants flashed by, their stooped, rounded stalks unmistakable. The plant was indigenous to Grakkus and one of the exports responsible for the planet’s wealth. Silkwater fabric went for a premium, possession of it a universal status symbol. Hammer himself owned at least two suits made from it, each worth the price of an economy spaceship—or so Jeth had heard.

Finally, the city came into view, a sprawling mass of buildings set in chaotic array, as if the city builders had designed it on whim and chance rather than with any logical plan. Somewhere near the middle of the city, arching high above everything else, stood the Emperor’s Tower. The natives called it the axis mundi, the center of the universe, and Jeth could almost see why, given its impressive height and appearance. Inside the tower was the Heart of the Universe, the giant ruby they’d come to steal.

Jeth cleared his throat and faced the others, motioning to the barrels. “It’s time.”

Flynn let out a groan as he slid off the barrel he’d been sitting on and stood up. Jeth couldn’t blame him. The refrigeration in the back of the truck kept the air crisp, but Jeth didn’t know how much that was going to help once they were crammed inside the barrels.

Nevertheless, Flynn went first, fitting inside surprisingly well considering the bulky bio-suit. Celeste went next, and then Lizzie stepped up.

“You sure you’re up for this?” he asked, noting the lack of color in her face. Even her freckles seemed pale.

She swallowed and put on her brave face. It was one Jeth knew well from long-ago nights when they’d stayed up late telling ghost stories and their parents had finally come in and told them to head to bed. “Sure. It’s going to be fun.”

Jeth arched an eyebrow.

Lizzie scrunched up her nose. “Stop brothering me.”

Jeth pressed his lips together to hold in a chuckle. “Like that’ll ever happen.”

She rolled her eyes and then sank down beneath the barrel’s rim, her stubborn expression in place now. Jeth found comfort in it. She would be all right; she was his sister, brilliant and resourceful. He pulled the lid into place, sealing her in.

Finally, it was Jeth’s turn. He climbed inside the last barrel and then stared up at Danforth, who’d come into the back to put on the lid for him.

For the first time since Danforth’s unexpected arrival, Jeth noticed how awful he looked, worse than he’d ever seen him—and that was saying something given the way his brown hair had always hung like rags around his face, the grease so thick even a strong breeze wouldn’t ruffle it, or how his skin always looked patched and crumpled like an apple left out to rot in the sun. Now his thinness bordered on emaciation, his skin drawn and brittle over his skull. Red veins wove thick webs through the whites of his eyes. Jeth wondered what kind of work he’d been doing for Hammer since his time with the Shades had ended.

“Promise you’ll keep Lizzie in line?” Jeth said, a tremor of genuine fear sliding through his belly and down his thighs. Letting her stay might have been the most practical decision, but his big-brother side didn’t particularly care.

“Sure I will. She’ll be fine. It’ll be easy.”

Jeth nodded, reminding himself that Danforth had guided him safely through his first couple of jobs, with only a few exceptions that—if Jeth were willing to admit it—had mostly been his fault for not listening. Then he remembered how Lizzie was just like him. “Don’t trust her to do anything on her own. She likes to get creative.”

Danforth smiled. “Understood.”

Jeth nodded again, and was about to tell Danforth he was glad he was here when he noticed a thin membranous line of black liquid trickle out of Danforth’s left nostril.

Danforth wiped it away at once. “Shit, sorry about that. I’ve been getting these damn nosebleeds lately.”

“Why?” Jeth asked, his heartbeat quickening. It hadn’t looked like blood, at least not the normal, oxygenated kind. That black liquid looked like burner blood, one of the signs of Odyssey abuse. But that was impossible. How would Danforth have gotten his hands on the drug? Even Hammer, who had virtually no morals to speak of, refused to deal in Odyssey. Known by a slew of street names—Black, Flyboys, ZXMP—it was the most addictive drug in the galaxy.

“Hammer’s had me working a job on Gallant Prime for the past couple of months,” Danforth said, meeting Jeth’s gaze. “That’s one of those coal mining planets. The stuff gets everywhere. Dries you out. I’ve been getting these bleeds ever since I came back.”

“Okay.” The word choked Jeth’s throat, like icy air.

With an effort, he shook the feeling off. Worry for Lizzie was making him paranoid. One little flash of a dark liquid did not make Danforth a drug addict. He seemed coherent and functional, his old tech ops magician self. And if he had been stuck in a mine on Gallant Prime, that would explain the degradation in his appearance as well. Those who spent most of their time in the treated air of spaceships and ports often struggled with breathing the real thing.

Just do the job and get out, Jeth reminded himself. Play it safe. No tricks. No mischief. But the resolution didn’t make him feel any better as Danforth slid the lid into place, sealing Jeth in darkness.

CHAPTER 03

BY THE TIME THEY ARRIVED ON THE PALACE GROUNDS, Jeth had forgotten about his paranoia. The job demanded all his attention and focus. They had made it past the security checkpoints without problems, and Shady and Danforth had let the others out the moment they’d finished unloading the first round of barrels for the party.

Soon after, Celeste assumed her role as servant with remarkable ease, managing to get all the relays for the master control hub and comm into place. The role allowed her to come and go from the palace without passing through the metal detectors. All servants were supposed to have gone through a physical security check at the gate.

Once the unit was up and running, Danforth and Lizzie hacked into the palace’s security system, Lizzie radiating eagerness like some kind of electrical current. Flynn’s and Shady’s parts would come later.

Now it was Jeth’s turn to get into place. He approached the long flight of wide marble steps that led up to the massive pavilion lining the front of the emperor’s palace. A row of white pillars, carved in the likenesses of warrior men and women wearing fitted helmets and armor, held up the pavilion’s roof like priests in a religious ritual. The main doors to the palace stood open, with lines of armed sentries sporting the red uniform of the emperor’s personal guard flanking both sides of the doors.

At the sight of them, Jeth reached up and scratched behind his ear, surreptitiously pressing the communicator patch affixed to his skin. “Heading in. Turning you off,” he whispered.

“Gotcha, Longshot,” Lizzie’s voice echoed inside his ear a second later. The sound of it made him stumble in shock.

“What are you doing on the line?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered. Just call me Little Hawk.”

Jeth grimaced. His little sister, first-time criminal.

Shoving the thought away before one of the guards noticed the grim look on his face, Jeth pressed the patch again, holding it long enough to terminate the connection completely.

He willed a confident smile as he stepped into the line for the security check. When he reached the front, he slid his counterfeit invitation out of his back pocket and handed it to a gray-haired man. The man’s bored expression remained in place as he slid the invitation through the scanner. The red light on the scanner turned green at once with an audible beep.

“ID please,” the man said, still not looking up. Jeth suspected he might start yawning any second.

Jeth considered cracking a joke, but held back, his new resolution to play it safe echoing in his head. He pressed his right thumb to the reader and its light switched from red to green in moments.

“Enjoy your stay,” the gray-haired man said, handing the invitation back.

“Oh, I plan to,” Jeth said, allowing himself a moment’s indulgence of the old cocky attitude. He’d learned early that confidence could take you through any number of sticky situations. He slid the invitation back into his pocket for safekeeping.

He passed through the main doors without hesitating, even though he was well aware that full body scanners had been attached to the doorframes to check his person for metal or anything else suspicious. The only things Jeth had to worry about were the contact lens in his right eye and the communicator patch. But the former was too small to show up on a scan, and with the latter powered off, there was no chance of it registering.

Jeth waited until he entered the grand ballroom at the end of the long main hallway to power the communicator back on. The music, something fast with heavy bass, was loud enough to make the insides of his ears numb. So loud that he couldn’t actually hear himself speak as he said into the comm, “Entry achieved.”

“Good job, Longshot,” Lizzie said. “You’ve got fifty-three minutes until your rendezvous with Tailspin.”

“Roger.” This time he left the connection open.

He slowly swept his gaze over the room, taking in the scene. Hundreds of people filled the center of the dance floor, their bodies writhing and bouncing in and out of rhythm with the music. More people mingled about the buffet tables set around the edges of the room and covered with decadent foods. Jeth was pleased to see that most of the boys his age sported the same kind of ridiculous getup as he did.

The realization bolstered his confidence, and he strode forward, swiping a glass of champagne from a passing server. He took a slow, easy drink. He had to be careful not to overdo it, but a drink was a good prop to help him blend in.

He made his way through the crowd, eying the spots in the room relevant to the plan. There was the eastern wall where he would meet Celeste. Across from it was the hallway that led out onto the terrace. His ultimate destination lay through the second door on the left down that hallway.

Satisfied with his orientation, Jeth headed deeper into the crowd, looking for a way to pass the time. As he moved, he scanned the faces, keeping a lookout for security in plainclothes. In seconds he identified two definites and a third maybe. The maybe was a big dude, the bulge of his thick muscles visible through his long-sleeved shirt. He looked too old to be a contemporary of the princess and too rough around the edges to be a rich relative or other noble. Yet he also didn’t match the other two, a blunt axe in a pile of ceremonial daggers.

For a second Jeth thought the man noticed him, and he turned away, heading for cover among the dancers. He meant to just pass through them, but before he knew it, a girl in a yellow dress grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into a dance. Jeth considered brushing her off, but she was pretty and smelled good.

Even more enticing was the solid gold bracelet hanging loose on her wrist. It would fetch a price back home, and so long as his extracurricular activities didn’t interfere with Hammer’s business or profits, Jeth was free to pinch what he could. Every little bit helped him in his quest to make Avalon his own.

But then he remembered Lizzie’s presence and his vow not to take any unnecessary chances. Dammit.

The girl, tipsy enough to be unsteady in her high heels, didn’t notice his disappointment as she yanked the champagne glass out of his hand, downed the rest of it in one gulp, and tossed the empty glass to a passing waiter, who barely caught it. Then she dragged Jeth forward, pressing her body against his as she began to dance. Shrugging, Jeth went with it. There were less entertaining ways to pass the time.

He stayed on the dance floor more than thirty minutes, dancing with a string of different girls before finally ditching the last and slipping away. He made a beeline for the nearest buffet table, where he’d been intending to go before the girl in the yellow dress had waylaid him. He hadn’t gotten to pilot, and he wasn’t about to pass up the only other decent part of this job. Jeth helped himself to cheese, grapes, some kind of meat on a stick—real meat, not the imitation stuff, which was all he could afford at the spaceport he called home—and a bread roll doused in butter.

Oh, the perks of the job.

Even though he knew he might regret it later, Jeth made a second pass, grazing through the platters he’d skipped the first time. He finished up with a strawberry that he dipped in a fountain of warm liquid chocolate for several seconds before popping it into his mouth.

“One might think you only came for the food.”

Jeth flinched, caught by surprise by the female voice in the sudden lull in the music. It wasn’t often someone got so close to him without his noticing.

He turned around, a retort falling out of his mouth automatically. “Well, it’s not like I came for the prin”—he sputtered as his eyes connected with the stranger’s, a girl close to his age, and easily the prettiest thing he’d seen tonight—“cess.”

Some nameless expression crossed her face before amusement curved her lips. “Yes, well who could blame you? The princess is not known for either her beauty or her sweetness.”

Jeth blinked, not understanding at first. He was too distracted by…by…well, he wasn’t quite sure what had caught him so off guard. Sure, this girl was undeniably gorgeous in a way that even Celeste would envy, with her brown hair hanging in artful ringlets and her large eyes the color of amber. And the dress she wore—shell pink and clinging to her body in that way only silkwater could—revealed enough planes and curves to make a Grakkian monk think twice about chastity vows. But Jeth didn’t think it was any of those things. Or at least not only those things. He suspected it might be the devilish look he detected in her eyes as she ran her gaze over him.

Suddenly aware that his mouth was open, Jeth clamped it shut with an audible clank. Wincing, he cleared his throat. “I take it you know the princess?”

“Me?” The girl’s eyebrows rose. “No, not really. But I’ve heard the rumors, same as you, I expect.”

Jeth grabbed a glass of champagne and took a sip, giving the girl another look. She certainly seemed rich enough to walk in the same circles as the princess.

“Um, Longshot?” Jeth jumped at the sudden intrusion of Lizzie’s voice and spilled more than a bit of his drink. “You need to make the pickup. No time for romance.”

Jeth grimaced, overwhelmed with an urge to throttle her. Last time Liz gets to run the comm. Ever. He forced a smile to his lips as he took a napkin and wiped himself off. “That’s probably five thousand unis’ worth of imperial champagne I just dumped down my shirt.”

The girl laughed, a surprisingly confident, full-bodied sound. Jeth felt a grin try to overtake him and fought it back. Like it or not, he needed to give this rich girl the cold shoulder. Shame: he suspected she would be a lot of fun if he had the time to spare.

“Anyway, nice talking to you.” Jeth turned and walked away before she could respond. Glancing around, he identified the eastern wall once more and headed toward it.

A few more buffet tables bordered this side of the room, but he avoided them. Instead he grabbed another glass and settled for an open area near the corner. He stood there, facing the dance floor with his drink in his hand, attempting to look uninterested.

Jeth pressed his finger to the communicator patch. “I’m in position.” He lowered his hand, waiting for a confirmation. When several seconds went by, he pressed it again. “Little Hawk? You there?”

“We’re here,” Lizzie came back, and Jeth flinched at the thundering crackle of static that punctuated her words. He resisted the urge to detach the communicator patch from his ear just to get it to stop.

“What the hell was that?” he said once things had quieted.

He regretted the question as the noise sounded again when Lizzie replied, “Something’s wrong with one of the relays. Think it’s going down.”

The sound faded once more but left his head ringing. Jeth pressed the link. “I’ll leave the connection up but don’t talk to me until you get it sorted out. That noise is enough to split my head open.”

Trying to regain his composure, Jeth took another sip of champagne, too aware of how fast his heart was beating and how shallowly his breaths moved in and out. Technology failure was the one thing certain to damage his cool. Too much depended on it working properly. And when it went sideways, there was nothing he could do about it. He didn’t possess the skills for working tech. He hated feeling powerless.

Moments later Jeth caught sight of Celeste as she entered the ballroom from the far door. She spotted him at once, but no sign of recognition appeared on her face aside from the initial lock of her gaze on his. She took her time crossing the room toward him, stopping here and there to offer drinks from her tray.

Jeth marveled at her balance. Her ability to carry that thing without spilling was one of the reasons she’d taken that part of the job. He surely would’ve doused the first person he came across.

Jeth glanced away from Celeste, trying to look bored again. He checked his watch—six minutes to go. He wanted to ask if Shady and Flynn were in place—they’d better be soon, or they’d miss their only chance at disguising the noise of the explosion as they blew a hole through the grate into the sewer beneath the palace—but Jeth resisted the temptation. As with the issue with the relay, there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Jeth looked back at Celeste, wondering what was taking so long. Any minute now the party hosts would start herding the guests outside for the fireworks display set to signal the official arrival of the princess’s sixteenth birthday. Celeste’s eyes locked on his once more, but this time she glared at him.

Jeth arched an eyebrow, not understanding. In answer, Celeste raised her hand to her mouth. Jeth shook his head, still not getting it. Then he looked down at the nearly full drink in his hand and realization dawned. She couldn’t very well offer to take his glass for him if it wasn’t empty.

Grimacing at his blunder, Jeth raised the glass to his lips and drank the rest of the champagne in one gulp. The liquid burned and bubbled down his throat and into his belly. Thank goodness he’d eaten.

As he wiped the back of his mouth, Celeste finally reached him. “Take that for you, sir?”

“Yes, thank you.” Jeth set his glass on the tray beside two other empties.

“You’re welcome.” As she spoke, Celeste’s grip on the tray slipped and it crashed to the ground, the clatter muffled by the music and noise of the crowd. Fortunately, all the glasses were shatterproof.

Jeth and Celeste both knelt at the same time, their actions well rehearsed. As Celeste moved to pick up the tray with one hand, she reached inside her right boot with the other, pulling out the small, collapsible wrench she’d smuggled inside. Jeth took it from her and slid it inside his own boot with one fluid motion as he picked up the nearest fallen glass. Celeste grabbed the other two, and they both stood up.

“Let’s try that again.” He set the glass on the tray once more.

Celeste pursed her lips but didn’t respond. Subservience went against her nature.

A moment later, the music ended and an amplified voice began to speak, politely asking the guests to move out onto the terrace. Jeth and Celeste exchanged a look, then both turned and headed in that direction, walking slowly.

Jeth pressed the comm again. “Is the relay fixed?”

“We put a bandage on it,” Lizzie said, and this time her voice was weirdly distant and tinny, although thankfully free of the static. Jeth didn’t bother asking for an explanation—he wasn’t likely to understand it.

Instead he asked, “Are Joyrider and Blaze in place?”

“Yep. All ready to go.”

Jeth imagined Shady was raring to go. The explosive he was about to use was one of his all-time-favorite tools of destruction, even if the explosion was going to be smaller than he would’ve preferred.

“Perfect,” Jeth said.

By the time they entered the hallway leading to the terrace, they were nearly the last of the crowd. Celeste walked ahead of Jeth, but they both took it slow, letting as many people pass them as possible. Jeth spotted his destination a short way ahead, a doorway barely discernible in the wood-paneled wall. He knew it was there only because of the picture hanging just to the right of it.

Two stragglers trailed behind Jeth and, looking for a diversion, he pulled the invitation out of his pocket. He pretended to examine it, then let it slip from his hands. As he stooped to pick it up, the stragglers finally passed him by.

Jeth looked up and saw Celeste disappear around the corner. She would keep the coast clear for him. He pressed his finger to the comm. “I’m here. Are you ready?”

Lizzie answered at once, “Ready in three, two, one. Go.”

Jeth approached the door and pressed his hand against the pressure handle, and it slid open with a faint click. He stepped inside, and it closed behind him, automatically. The hallway beyond was much smaller than the one he’d left behind. He headed down it, made a right at the first intersection, then stopped as he reached another door. There was no door handle, just a control panel set on the wall beside it.

“Putting the card in place now,” Jeth said as he slid the counterfeit invitation into the narrow slit on the control panel’s side.

“Got it,” Lizzie said. “Establishing the connection. Should have it hacked in two minutes.”

Jeth didn’t reply as he turned around, keeping an eye on things. The hallway should stay empty for the time being. Everyone was outside for the fireworks, including the emperor, whose adoration of his granddaughter was well known. That was why Jeth had waited until the fireworks display to come in here. Every servant, guard, guest, and dignitary was expected to observe the spectacle and pay homage to the princess.

Thirty seconds ticked by, then a minute. Almost there.

But then Jeth heard the distinctive hiss of a door opening in the distance, followed by the footsteps of someone approaching.

Someone who shouldn’t be here.

So much for no glitches.

CHAPTER 04

JETH’S HEAD SWAM IN THE SUDDEN SURGE OF ADRENALINE, but then a cool focus came over him, the thrill of the unexpected sharpening his senses. “Someone’s coming. How soon?”

“Need another minute at least,” Danforth answered.

Acting on instinct, Jeth left the comm open as he pulled the collapsible wrench out of his boot and expanded it to full size. He held his breath and approached the edge of the hallway. Only two types of people would be coming this way right now: guards or servants. He hoped for the latter. A servant would likely be easier to take by surprise, knock unconscious, and hide until the job was done.

Jeth listened to the footsteps, determining they were coming from the left, the same way he had entered. He turned and put his back to the wall. Sweat dampened his palms, and he wished he were holding a stunner instead of a wrench. If he hit the person too hard, he could do permanent damage. Too little and he might have a fight on his hands.

Tap, tap, tap.

The person reached the juncture where the two hallways met. Jeth held his breath, tightening his grip on the wrench. A figure stepped into view. Jeth raised his hand, aiming for where neck met skull.

But he froze at the sight of brown hair hanging in ringlets. The girl in the silkwater dress from earlier swung to face him, her large amber eyes widening in surprise.

Hit her! A voice screamed in his head.

He couldn’t. He might hurt her. Might kill her with a blow like that.

“What are you—” she began, but Jeth grabbed her before she could finish. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pinning her. She was tiny, easy to overpower. He felt her lungs expand for a scream, and he clapped his hand over her mouth.

“Door’s open, Longshot,” Danforth spoke through the comm. “You got things under control down there?”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Jeth said, glad he’d left the comm open. To say he had his hands full as he dragged the girl down the hallway would be an understatement. Although to his surprise she wasn’t really struggling. A small, weird part of him was almost disappointed that she didn’t fight. He must’ve misjudged the spunk he’d detected in her earlier.

He shoved her through the now open door into a narrow entryway that dead-ended before an elevator.

“I’m going to lower my hand from your mouth,” Jeth said, in his most menacing voice, “but if you so much as squeak, I’ll brain you. Got it?” He waved the wrench before her eyes with his other hand.

She nodded.

Jeth let go of her mouth, and holding her with one arm, he reached back and grabbed the counterfeit invitation out of the control panel. A second later, the door slid closed, sealing them in the small foyer before the elevator.

“Who are you talking to?” Danforth asked.

“Nobody. A minor inconvenience. Someone from the party. I’m bringing her up with me.”

“All right, but hurry up,” Danforth said. “You’ve got two minutes before we have to switch off the security loop.”

Jeth ignored him as he pushed the girl forward, then spun her around with her back to the elevator door. He pointed the wrench at her. “Stay still.”

She nodded again, although he thought he detected that impishness from before in her eyes. She didn’t look frightened at all. He supposed to a wealthy aristocrat this might seem like a new and exciting game. He might’ve been inclined to feel the same if it hadn’t been for this being Lizzie’s first job.

Jeth shifted to the right, standing in front of the elevator’s control panel. He keyed in the passcode he’d been given and then leaned his right eye toward the retinal scanner. He held perfectly still, experience telling him that if there was too much movement, the scanner would detect the contact lens. Within seconds the access light turned green and the elevator door opened.

The girl stepped inside with no prompting from Jeth. He followed after her. The door closed automatically, and the elevator began to move upward. This was one of the emperor’s private elevators, and it had only one destination—the very top of the tower.

“Face the wall and don’t move,” Jeth said, pointing the wrench at the girl again. She turned around, then stood with her arms hanging loose at her sides. Disconcerted by her compliance, Jeth stooped and grabbed the hem of her silkwater dress, on the alert for any sudden movements.

“What are you doing?” the girl asked, alarmed as he tore off a strip of fabric.

Jeth regretted destroying something so valuable, but it wasn’t like he could steal the dress. Well, he could, but he wouldn’t.

“Got to have some way to keep you contained,” he said, standing up. “What were you doing down that hallway anyway?”

She tapped her foot. “I was following you, to my misfortune it seems.”

“So it would. Put your hands behind your back.”

“Is this really necessary?” she said, doing it anyway.

“Maybe not, but I’m not willing to bet you’ll keep playing nice.” He pulled her wrists together and then wound the torn fabric around them, tying the knot as tight as he could. Silkwater was delicate, but surprisingly strong, enough to be used in this manner.

“Why not?” she said, turning to face him as he finished. “I’ve done everything you’ve ordered so far.”

Jeth shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because you’re rich?”

She narrowed her eyes on him. “Are you saying rich people can’t be trusted?”

“As a general rule, yes.”

“Oh, but I suppose thieves can?”

Jeth tapped the head of the wrench against his open palm. “Who said anything about thieves?”

“You don’t expect me to believe you’re a maintenance man in disguise, do you?”

“No, but I could be an assassin or a terrorist.”

The girl shook her head, her ringlets bouncing a little. “I don’t think so. If you’re anything other than a thief, I’d go with prostitute sent to be the emperor’s after-party dessert.”

Jeth wrinkled his nose, deciding it was time to change the subject. “You got a name?”

She hesitated, no doubt questioning the wisdom of sharing such information with someone in the middle of breaking into the emperor’s personal bedchambers.

“I could make one up for you, if you’d like,” Jeth offered. “I think ‘Trouble’ would fit nicely.”

“My name is Aileen.”

Jeth grinned. It suited her. He supposed if things were to go wrong on this job, at least trouble came with a pretty face.

“And what’s yours?”

Jeth cocked his head to the side. “You can call me whatever you like.”

“Hmmm, very well. I’ll go with ‘Peacock.’”

Jeth made a choking noise and was about to argue, when Danforth’s voice intruded, “I hate to bust up the romantic tension, but you really ought to focus on the task at hand. The elevator’s almost there.”

“Right,” Jeth said. “Where’s Little Hawk?”

“Stepped into the back for a minute. More trouble with that relay.”

“Oh,” Jeth said, ignoring Aileen’s curious look about his conversation with a person she couldn’t see or hear.

Seconds later they reached the top floor and the door swished open. Jeth motioned for Aileen to go first.

She smiled and walked past him, as unconcerned as ever. He stepped out after her and surveyed the suite, momentarily overwhelmed by the decadence. There was a wraparound sofa as big as a bed, a fireplace as big as a bathroom, and an in-floor water feature big enough to swim in.

And this was just the first room.

“That way.” Jeth pointed to a set of double doors in the distance. Aileen headed for them without a second glance. Jeth followed her into the bedroom. The same level of decadence continued on in here, but the glass vault across from the bed drew all his attention. It was big enough to enclose a dozen men, and at its center, set atop a wooden pedestal engraved in the likeness of two rearing dragons, was the Grakkian Ruby, the so-called Heart of the Universe. It glowed red beneath the display lights. The sight of that glow jogged Jeth’s memory. He needed something to cover his hands before he picked it up.

He turned to Aileen and then motioned to the bed. “Sit down and stay there. And don’t bother trying to escape. My crew has the elevators locked down. There’s nowhere to go.”

This wasn’t even close to true, but Aileen couldn’t know it. Besides, as she sat down on the bed, she gave no indication that running was on her mind. Instead, she seemed enthralled by the situation unfolding before her.

Jeth grabbed one of the half dozen pillows lying across the top of the bed. He yanked off the pillowcase and then turned back to the vault, stopping before the door.

The only indication that there was a door in that seamless glass facade came from the small control panel on the right. It was similar to the one on the elevator, and for a moment Jeth marveled at how stupid the emperor was to keep something so important in such a relatively unprotected place. True, the glass was shatterproof, but the lack of physical monitoring was a serious weakness. Nobody was guarding the door, and there wasn’t a single security camera in the bedchamber or even the elevators. The emperor insisted on his complete privacy, disregarding any risks.

Then again, Jeth supposed a man in his position was probably arrogant enough to believe there were no risks, that he was so well insulated from the outside that he was perfectly safe in here. If so, he was a fool. Someone inside the emperor’s inner circle was also firmly in Hammer’s pocket.

Of course, Jeth thought as he entered the passcode, the ruby wasn’t exceptionally valuable in a monetary sense. He had no idea why Hammer wanted it. Most of its worth stemmed from its religious importance to the people of this planet. They believed the ruby was some sort of holy relic that would bestow wisdom and good fortune on anyone exposed to it—hence the reason for the glass vault in the emperor’s bedchamber. All nonsense, Jeth knew; religious propaganda designed to control an uneducated and superstitious populace.

The retinal scanner began to flash, and he stood in front of it, holding still once more.

“I’m through,” Jeth said when the door opened. He glanced behind him to make sure Aileen was still behaving herself. She watched him with a bemused expression from where she sat perched on the end of the emperor’s ridiculous bed.

“Excellent,” Danforth said. “We’re in the homestretch.”

Jeth didn’t reply as he stepped inside, a shiver running over his skin at the drop in temperature. The air had a sharp taste and smell, the kind he associated with hospitals and science laboratories. Plush carpet shifted against his feet like deep sand.

Jeth stopped before the pedestal and covered his right hand with the pillowcase. The ruby was coated with a chemical agent that would make the stone and anything that had touched it, skin or clothing, light up like a fireworks show on the infrared display of the security cameras.

He hesitated. “You sure I can just take this? There’s not some kind of pressure alarm waiting to sound?”

“I’m sure,” Danforth said. “All the security is on the door.”

Jeth frowned. Not because he didn’t believe Danforth but because he’d noticed something odd about the ruby.

It wasn’t a ruby.

He’d seen enough rubies in his life to know it. The fist-sized stone was more or less the right color, and it had been cut to look like a ruby, its surface faceted and shape diamond, but the insides gave it away. If Jeth hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought it was some kind of red-hued amber. Small, branchlike things hung suspended inside it like insects caught in fossilized sap he remembered from the pictures in his old science textbook.

“What the—” Jeth broke off as something far more troubling than a counterfeit ruby grabbed his attention—a voice screaming over the comm.

“Help, Jeth! Help. Hel—”

The sound abruptly cut off as the comm link went dead. But Jeth had recognized the voice easily. Lizzie. Panic rose up inside him like a flood, drowning him in fear.

“Liz—Little Hawk? What is it? What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

For several long, terrible moments no one answered.

Then finally, Danforth’s voice came over the line. “Nothing’s wrong, Longshot. We’re fine. Everything’s fine here.”

“Where’s Little Hawk?”

“She’s fine.”

“Bullshit,” Jeth said, panting from fear and frustration. “Put her on the line.”

Danforth let out a long, heavy sigh. “I’m really sorry about this. I really am. But I can’t let you talk to her right now. Somehow she found out what I’ve been doing and was making such a fuss, I had to shut her up.”

Bile climbed Jeth’s throat as his brain provided an interpretation of Danforth’s words—shut her up. A vision of his baby sister lying sprawled in the passenger’s seat of the truck with half her face blown off and blood and brain matter spattered on the window beside her swam before the eye of his imagination. There were plenty of weapons in the truck, after all.

Why had he let her come down to the planet? Why had he left her alone?

Jeth cleared his throat and his voice came out breathless. “What have you been doing?”

“Well, let’s just say I have no intention of letting you hand that ruby over to Hammer. It’s priceless, worth far more than he would ever pay any of us.”

“You’re going to double-cross Hammer?” It didn’t make sense. No one betrayed Hammer. The price for getting caught was too high. It wasn’t death that Hammer would inflict on Danforth but a kind of living death, one that would last as many years as his body had left to it. Danforth knew the consequences as well as Jeth. And while money was a strong motivator, he didn’t think it would be enough for Danforth to risk becoming one of Hammer’s Guard. There had to be more to it.

Then Jeth remembered the blood. Burner blood. An Odyssey addiction. Hammer had banned the substance, but there were plenty of other crime lords in the universe who hadn’t. And turning over a prize like the Grakkian Ruby might be enough for Danforth to buy his way into the good graces of one of Hammer’s rivals.

Jeth shook his head, still struggling with disbelief. “But how are you doing this? You didn’t know you were going to come on this job.”

“Do you really think something like a replacement tech would keep me away from this prize?”

A chill skidded down Jeth’s spine. If Danforth had done something to harm their last tech, just to take his place on this job, what else would he do?

“But don’t worry,” Danforth was saying. “Your sister is fine. I only shut her inside one of the barrels. She’s perfectly safe. For now.”

Jeth swallowed. “What do you want from me?”

“Simple. Finish the job.”

Jeth bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. His mind spun as he tried to think of a way out. “Don’t go through with this. It’s not too late. I’ll make sure Liz doesn’t say anything. We’ll finish the job and turn the stone over to Hammer.”

“No.” A chilling certainty colored Danforth’s voice. “Hammer doesn’t win. Not this time. I’m done with him owning me. I’ll do what I want with my life, my body.”

My body. Jeth wondered if Hammer had found out about the Odyssey. Such an infraction might be something Hammer would forgive, at least once. But there would be consequences—like banishment to the coal mines on Gallant Prime. Such an environment should’ve made it easier for Danforth to quit the drug, but he hadn’t.

“Come on,” Jeth pressed. “This is your last chance, and you know it.”

“No,” Danforth said again. “Finish your part now or I’ll kill her.”

Icy daggers seemed to prick Jeth’s skin from his neck to the tops of his feet. He believed Danforth completely. Odyssey users were prone to violent outbursts and wild manic frenzies. And Jeth understood that no matter how rational Danforth sounded, he was no longer a sane man. They said Odyssey liquefied the brain. Sometimes slowly and sometimes all at once.

Jeth drew a breath, unwilling to give up without a fight. “I might be all the way up here, but the rest of the crew can still get to you.”

“Ah, but you’re assuming I haven’t already taken care of them as well.”

“Impossible. You need their help.” Jeth knew with absolute certainty that Danforth wasn’t about to go down into the sewers. He might not know the meaning of the word soap, but he didn’t like to get his hands dirty.

“Now you’re assuming that I’m working alone.”

Another shiver went through Jeth, but he refused to believe the implication. “You’re bluffing.”

“Perhaps, but every second you delay, the risk of getting caught goes up. The fireworks won’t last forever, you know.”

“If I play along,” Jeth said, “how do I know you won’t hurt her afterward? How do I know you won’t leave me trapped up here?”

“You don’t. But Jeth, this really isn’t personal. I have little interest in you or your crew, but I will kill anyone who gets in the way.”

“I—” Jeth broke off as a click echoed behind him. He turned toward the sound, his jaw slackening at the sight that greeted him. Beautiful, rich Aileen stood across from him, wrists no longer bound, pointing the barrel of a Luke 357 at him. Her hands were steady, and her chilling aloofness was all the evidence he needed to know that this wasn’t the first time she’d held a gun on someone.

A sly, sensuous smile stretched across her lips, that devilish glint in her eyes. “Danforth isn’t lying. He’s not working alone.”

CHAPTER 05

TIME SEEMED TO SLOW, STRETCHING OUT AROUND JETH AS his incredulity mounted. He couldn’t fathom it. How had this girl gotten here? How did she know Danforth? And how had she managed to smuggle in that gun?

Aileen spoke, and time snapped back into its normal pace. “Head that way.” She indicated the direction with a nudge of the gun. “Your part in the plan stays the same.”

Furious to find the situation reversed, Jeth considered half a dozen ways to wrest the gun from her. But in all of them, he saw himself getting shot. He couldn’t cover the distance between himself and Aileen quickly enough.

Jeth turned and headed toward the door she had indicated, racking his brain for a solution while Danforth made a show of introducing his new partner through the comm.

Anger thrummed through Jeth. His dislike for the man turned to hatred, black and intoxicating. With an effort, he pushed the emotions away, trying desperately to keep cool. He needed to stay focused, now more than ever. This is a job, he told himself. One that’s gone sideways. Think your way out. It sounded easy in his head, but impossible in his heart as Lizzie’s name kept pounding inside him.

The door opened onto the bathroom, which was surprisingly tame in decor compared to the rest of the suite.

“You know what to do,” Aileen said. “But make sure you take it easy with that wrench. I promise I can shoot you faster than you can throw it.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Jeth said as he stooped next to the toilet. Other than its gilded edges and golden handle, there was nothing special about it—it was a toilet like any other. Same with its plumbing, a design that hadn’t changed in probably a thousand years of human innovation, Jeth thought. He set the ruby on the floor, still wrapped in the pillowcase, and then with both hands, he turned the valve to the water pipe, shutting off the flow. Once done, he fitted the wrench over the first of the bolts on the toilet’s base.

In seconds he had the bolts off. He glanced up at Aileen, whose position hadn’t changed. She must be stronger than she looked to hold the gun aloft for so long without tiring. A 357 was on the smaller side, but still heavy enough. He never should have underestimated her.

“Unless you fancy getting wet,” said Jeth, “you might want to stand back.”

Aileen wrinkled her nose. “What’s the point? You’ve already ruined my dress.”

“Suit yourself.” Jeth slid his hands around the widest part of the toilet and then hoisted the whole thing into the air. Water gushed out, dousing his legs and shoes. The spray hit Aileen, and she skirted backward, gasping at the cold. She also lowered the gun. It was just a few centimeters, but that was all he needed.

With an almighty heave, Jeth threw the toilet at her. It fell short, but the spray of debris as the porcelain shattered did the trick well enough. Jeth leaped over the wreckage and seized Aileen’s wrist before she could react. She was definitely stronger than she looked, he discovered, struggling to overpower her.

She also knew a thing or two about hand-to-hand fighting, as she first stomped on his toes and then landed a punch to his gut. If she’d been a little bit bigger, it might’ve worked. But Jeth held on, a grunt of pain escaping his lips. A second later he had the gun in his hand and, with no small amount of relish, he jabbed the barrel against her breastbone, hard enough that she choked on a gasp.

Somewhere, in the deepest, darkest part of him a voice screamed: Kill her now. Even worse, that dark part of him wanted to do it with a cold, logical yearning. It would make the most sense, solve a massive problem in one quick, efficient blow. For a second, he even saw himself doing it, one squeeze of his index finger and it would be over. At this range, they would have to scrape pieces of her off the floor afterward.

Disgusted with himself, Jeth drew a breath. “There’s been a change of plans, Danforth. That is, unless Aileen intended for me to get ahold of her gun. You should pick your crew better next time.”

“What did you do?” Danforth said.

Jeth grinned. “Hit her with a toilet. Well, almost. Gotta say that makes for a first.”

Danforth swore. “Stupid girl. But it doesn’t change a thing. Lizzie is worth far more to you than Aileen is to me or my employer.”

Aileen, who Jeth guessed was wearing a comm unit similar to his, went rigid at Danforth’s words. “You wouldn’t dare to double cross me.”

Jeth laughed. “Clearly, you don’t know who you’re working with, Trouble. Danforth’s only loyalty, it seems, is to his Odyssey addition.”

“His what?” Aileen’s nostrils flared, her expression a cross between indignation and outrage.

“Oh, but surely you must’ve—”

“Shut up, both of you,” Danforth screamed loud enough to make Jeth wince. “We’re running out of time.”

The panic in Danforth’s voice was enough to scatter any remaining doubts Jeth might have had about the addiction.

“Don’t worry,” Jeth said. “When I get caught, I’ll send them your way.”

“That won’t save your sister,” said Danforth.

“Sure it will. She’s just a kid. They won’t hurt her. They’ll be far too preoccupied with the only adult involved.”

“Are you willing to spend the rest of your life in a Grakkian prison?”

“Are you? I’m not the one with an addiction to feed. I hear Odyssey detox can kill you.”

Danforth said something in response, but Jeth didn’t hear it. Another noise had captured his full attention: the sound of footsteps coming his way. He grabbed Aileen by the shoulder and swung her around with her back to him. Then he wrapped an arm around her waist, pinning her. With the gun pointed at her temple, he pushed her forward through the door and into the bedroom. Whoever was out there, whether security or servant, they might mistake Aileen for a noble as he had done, giving him a little leverage.

Two people had arrived in the emperor’s bedroom. Jeth’s stomach dropped to his knees when he realized one of them was Celeste, held at gunpoint by a man Jeth recognized as the blunt-axe sentry in plainclothes. He looked like a mountain of sinewy flesh and muscle, dwarfing Celeste completely.

“Put your weapon down or they’ll be picking her up in pieces,” the man said.

Jeth swallowed, a shiver going through him, both at the threat to Celeste and at the way the man’s words echoed his earlier thoughts. He doubted this guy would have any qualms about making good on his threat.

“And here comes the cavalry,” Danforth said, his tone unbearably smug. For a wild, insane moment, Jeth considered opening fire. He was a helluva good shot, and the man a large target. But one look at Celeste’s face and he decided against it. He’d never in his life seen her so afraid. A massive bruise was forming over her left cheek and blood trickled from a split lip. Her servant’s uniform was torn in three places. She might’ve been cowed by the man, but she hadn’t gone down without a fight.

Defeat like suffocation crushed down on Jeth as he let go of Aileen and set the gun on the floor. She grabbed it at once, wasting no time before pointing it at him again.

“Finish the job,” she said.

Gritting his teeth, Jeth turned and reentered the bathroom. He picked up the now sopping-wet pillowcase with the ruby still wrapped inside it. A whirlwind of desperate ideas tore through his mind, but none of them stood any chance of coalescing into an escape plan.

Jeth turned toward the exposed pipe on the floor where the toilet had been. The dark hole seemed to leer at him as he leaned toward it. He carefully unfolded the pillowcase and then dropped the ruby down the hole. It made no noise as it fell, making the long trek through the pipes and down into the sewer system beneath the palace—the only way to get it out without alerting security.

“It’s done,” Aileen said from where she stood in the doorway, no doubt talking to Danforth. “We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point.”

“Farewell, Jeth,” Danforth said a moment later. “I’m quite certain our paths will never cross again.”

Jeth tossed the pillowcase on the floor. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Hammer will find you no matter where you go.”

“True.” Danforth sighed. “But just because he knows where I am doesn’t mean he’ll be able to get to me. Soleil will see to that.”

“Shut up, Danforth,” Aileen hissed.

“Soleil Marcel?” Jeth laughed at the absurdity. Soleil was one of Hammer’s biggest competitors, a crime lord with territorial claims to the Antares System. She was powerful, no doubt, but also ruthless and cruel, as vicious as a starving snake. “If you think Soleil will keep you in her employ after this, you’re even more of an idiot than I thought. She’s liable to turn you over to Hammer herself rather than risk trusting you with her business. You’re just a pawn, Danforth. A walking dead man.”

“That’s enough,” Aileen said. “Come on out of there.”

Jeth shrugged, judging by Danforth’s silence that his words had struck hard. As he stepped out of the bathroom, Aileen ordered him into the vault, where her partner had already put Celeste.

So they’re going to leave us alive, Jeth thought, not daring to believe it. It was the opposite of what they should do, that cold part of him knew. Death was cleaner, but he wasn’t about to point that out. He stepped inside the vault, then turned to face Aileen.

She beamed at him with that devilish glint back in her eyes. He wanted to gouge them out. “It’s been a pleasure, my little Peacock. Maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll get to play again sometime.”

“If we do, I promise it won’t turn out like this.”

Aileen laughed. “Let’s hope not.” She pressed a button on the control panel and the door slid closed, locking Jeth and Celeste inside.

As Aileen and her partner made for the exit, Jeth pounded on the glass with his fists. He kicked it, slammed against it with his entire body. Beside him, Celeste did the same. But it was no use.

Sagging in defeat, Jeth ceased his futile attempts to break out. He walked to the back of the vault and sat down, resting his head against the glass. Then he closed his eyes and waited for his doom.

CHAPTER 06

MINUTES PASSED LIKE HOURS. JETH AND CELESTE TALKED only long enough to relay their stories. Hers was as Jeth had guessed: Aileen’s mountainous partner had ambushed her while she stood watch down in the hallway below.

They fell into silence afterward. Jeth wondered how long it would take before someone discovered them, and what was happening with Lizzie and Shady and Flynn. Maybe Danforth’s new crew would leave them alive, too. He clung to that hope. Alive, they had a chance of being rescued. The Malleus Shades were valuable to Hammer. He might spring them from whatever jail or prison they ended up in.

That is, if we don’t get executed first.

Jeth closed his eyes, swallowing down his fear. Of all the jobs he’d worked, none of them had gone this bad. There was no telling what Hammer would do when he found out.

Celeste nudged him hard in the ribs with her elbow.

Jeth opened his eyes and glared at her. “What?”

She pointed at the door, scrambling to her feet. He glanced that direction and saw a blond woman standing in the doorway. She wore an elegant red dress, the color marking her as a member of the Grakkian royal family. They’d been discovered at last.

Jeth braced for the scream that must surely be coming, but the woman only stared at them for several seconds, her expression more evaluative than alarmed. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her. A moment later she hurried forward, the long trail of her dress fanning out behind her like a red banner. She stopped in front of the vault’s control panel and opened the door, keying the passcode with such quick efficiency that Jeth knew she had done it before.

“Come on,” the woman said, waving them out. “You must not get caught in here.”

“Who are you?” Jeth followed her to the door, with Celeste staying in step beside him. He was thrilled about this unexpected turn of good fortune, but he knew better than to trust it without question.

“That’s none of your concern.” She glowered at him over one slender shoulder.

He couldn’t pinpoint her age. Certainly a lot older than he was, but definitely not old. She wore her hair in an elegant coiffure that exposed a long stretch of pale, thin neck.

She turned back, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides as if she was struggling not to panic. “This couldn’t be worse. If the emperor finds out you work for Hammer, he might trace this back to me. What went wrong?”

Jeth winced at the alarm in her tone, guessing at once that she had been Hammer’s inside source. He wondered who she was. Someone very important to have such casual access to the emperor’s bedchamber.

His mistress, he realized, as he finally placed her face. The briefing he’d been given by Hammer’s research team before coming on the job had included a summary of the familial landscape of the royal family, just in case he bumped into one of them, but he hadn’t applied himself very hard to memorizing faces. The only reason he remembered her now with such certainty was because the emperor’s mistress had been a more interesting part of the briefing. The researchers seemed to think her place among the family had caused quite the scandal.

“We were betrayed by someone on our crew,” Celeste said as they reached the elevator and stepped in.

Jeth scowled. “He was never part of our crew.”

Celeste ignored the comment, still focused on their savior in red. “He’s working for Soleil Marcel.”

The woman paled, even beyond her natural fairness.

“How did you know we were trapped up here?” Jeth asked as the elevator began to move downward. He leaned against the back rail, feeling the need to steady himself.

“I didn’t. I received a message from one of Hammer’s men a few minutes ago that something was going wrong with the mission.”

Jeth blinked. How had Hammer known?

“This person who betrayed you—does he have the stone?” the woman asked, her gaze shifting from Jeth to Celeste, then back again.

“We don’t know.” Jeth glanced at his watch. More than twenty minutes had passed since he’d dropped the ruby down the pipe. That might’ve been enough time for Flynn to find it down in the sewer, but there were a lot of environmental variables at play.

“You have to get it back.” A tremor echoed in the woman’s tone.

“No we don’t,” Jeth said. “It was a fake.”

Her eyes seemed to flash as she glared at him. “Foolish boy. It’s not a fake. It’s just not a ruby. There is no name for what it is.”

Jeth frowned, unsure if this was good news or bad. Bad, he decided, because if she knew the stone wasn’t really a ruby, Hammer likely did, too. Which meant he would still want it. “We’ll do our best to find it.”

The woman exhaled, and her hands shook as she smoothed the front of her gown. Jeth tried to feel sorry for her but couldn’t quite manage it. She was a traitor, after all, same as Danforth.

The elevator arrived at the ground floor, and she led the way out, taking them down several hallways before stopping in front of a closed door. “This will lead you out to the eastern wing. Can you find the rest of the way on your own?”

Celeste nodded, adjusting the front of her uniform in an attempt to disguise the damage.

“Good luck.” The woman turned and headed back the way they had come.

Celeste opened the door and stepped out into a large hallway bursting with activity. A chaotic parade of servants swept past them, most carrying trays lined with desserts. Celeste dove through them, not caring about the dirty looks and curses tossed at her. Jeth followed, wincing at how much attention they were drawing. Any one of these people might get suspicious about what they were up to. Still, they didn’t have time for the usual charade they would’ve employed in this situation.

In moments they were through another door and stepping out into a courtyard. Celeste headed right down a narrow walkway that dumped them out on an open lawn, the manicured grass more dark blue than green in the moonlight.

Jeth was so turned around he had little sense of where they were or if they were heading in the right direction, but Celeste grabbed his hand and pulled him forward, confident of their path. He fell into place beside her, wishing they could make a run for it. But that might draw more attention, this time from security. As it was, he wasn’t sure if the cursory handholding would be enough to convince an observer that they were just two teenagers looking for a cozy make-out spot. Jeth tried to put a little swagger into his gait, playing it up. He was the noble in this situation, after all, and Celeste the lowly servant.

The ruse must’ve worked, since no one had sounded the alarm by the time they arrived at a copse of trees growing up along one wall of the palace. Jeth knew the sewer entrance was hidden just beyond. He blinked as he stepped into the shadows of the trees, struggling to see in the darkness. He spotted Shady and Flynn lying motionless side by side in the grass next to the sewer entrance. Danforth and his band of traitors had come and gone.

Jeth knelt beside Shady, determining at once that he wasn’t dead, just unconscious. Relief rushed through him as Celeste confirmed the same about Flynn.

“Wake up, Shady.” Jeth shook him so hard his head bobbed back and forth. He kept at it for several minutes while Celeste worked on reviving Flynn. Once stunned, a person could remain unconscious for an hour or more if left alone. But increasing the flow of blood to the brain could speed up the recovery process.

Finally, Shady let out a groan and opened his eyes. He spotted Jeth and made a face. “What happened?”

“Think you can stand?” Jeth rose to his feet and held out a hand.

Shady pulled himself up, limbs shaking. He clutched his temple and moaned. Waking up early from a stunner left one groggy and with a wicked headache. “Somebody hit me from behind.”

“That would be Danforth.”

Shady gaped. “You’re kidding.” His look of disbelief turned murderous as he realized that Danforth must have made off with the Heart of the Universe. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Take a number.” Jeth turned to help Celeste with Flynn. He’d probably been stunned after Shady, and with his lower body weight, the effects would last longer. Jeth wrinkled his nose at the stench coming off Flynn’s bio-suit. He’d been down in the sewer, all right.

They kept at it, while Jeth filled Shady in about what had happened with Danforth.

“So, what do we do now, Boss?” Shady asked. Flynn was still unconscious, but he’d made a couple of noises, a sign he was coming around.

“We’ve got to get back to the truck, see if Lizzie’s there. Then we’ve got to figure out where Danforth’s headed.” Jeth fixed his gaze on Shady. “Think you can get Flynn awake while Celeste and I move out?”

Shady shrugged. “If not, I’ll just drag his scrawny ass.”

“I think security would notice.” Celeste stood up and motioned for Shady to take her place. He did so, rocking Flynn hard enough that his teeth clanked together.

Jeth peered through the trees, getting his bearings on their path. He and Celeste had to leave first in case someone had seen them come in. If they were lucky, nobody had been paying attention.

He looked back at Shady. “We’re leaving now. Head to the truck as soon as he can stand.”

“We’ll be right behind you, Boss.”

Jeth took Celeste by the hand, and together they stepped out from the cover of the trees. They continued on from their original path, taking a shortcut down another narrow walkway that dumped them out on the far side of the loading docks. The Wellforth truck was parked in the same place. Not letting his relief get the best of him, Jeth swept his gaze over the scene, checking for onlookers.

Once he had determined the place was empty, he hurried forward, yanked the truck door open, and climbed inside, with Celeste right behind him. The cab was empty too, the only sign of Danforth his discarded Wellforth uniform lying strewn across the passenger’s seat. Jeth raced into the cargo hold, and together he and Celeste began yanking the lids off the decoy barrels. The first one Jeth opened was empty, but not the second. Lizzie peered up at him, her eyes wide and wet with tears and her face swollen with a splotchy bruise.

“Lizzie!” Jeth reached for her, hauling her to her feet. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Her voice shook as she spoke, and she began to babble. “I’m so sorry, Jeth. I blew it. I tried to stop him. I sent a message to Hammer, but then Danforth figured out what I was doing and hit me. I tried to fight him off, but he shoved me in here.”

She sobbed as she threw her arms around him. Jeth reeled from the onslaught of emotion—sympathy, disbelief, and most of all rage. Danforth had hit her. Touched her with his slimy, dirty hands. Jeth would cut them off. He squeezed Lizzie in his arms. “Shhhh. It’s all right.”

Jeth let his emotions rule him for only a moment, and then he locked them away in a deep place inside him.

He helped her out of the barrel. “Do you have any idea where Danforth went or where he was heading?”

Lizzie blinked the bleariness from her gaze. “No, but I might be able to find him.”

“How?” Jeth took a step back as Lizzie pushed past him. She headed for the corner, where he spotted the master control computer lying on top of one of the barrels.

“I detected their comm signal,” Lizzie said, her fingers already flying across the touchscreen. Her distress from a moment before was draining away as she fell into the job.

Jeth stepped up behind her, watching. “What are you doing, Liz?”

She chewed on her lower lip as she worked. “Danforth had two comm units running the whole time we’ve been here. He thought he could hide it, but when the relay went down and I had to fix it, I discovered the other signal. I figured he was communicating with someone else on-site, someone we didn’t know about. So I sent a message to Mark Hilty back on the Debonair, telling him to let Hammer know that Danforth was up to something.”

That’s how the emperor’s mistress knew to come find us, Jeth realized. A tremor of fear went through him at the risk Lizzie had taken. Hilty might not have been trustworthy. And alerting Hammer about a job going wrong wasn’t something he would’ve done. In Jeth’s experience, the less Hammer knew, the better. Still, her actions had saved them. He resisted the urge to hug her again.

“If Danforth’s still in close enough proximity,” Lizzie went on, “and if he hasn’t turned off his comm, I should be able to figure out his location.”

Jeth squeezed her shoulders, which was all the encouragement he could manage. They just might be able to salvage this job.

“Shady and Flynn are coming,” Celeste announced a few minutes later from the cab, where she’d been keeping a lookout.

Jeth left Lizzie where she was, still doing her techie thing. She hadn’t picked up a clear signal yet, and he feared it was because Danforth was long gone.

“They’re over there.” Celeste pointed out the side window. Jeth looked and saw Shady and Flynn standing by a hedgerow, the latter visibly swaying on his feet.

A moment later they were climbing inside the truck. Jeth felt something click into place inside him, a rightness like a homecoming after a long absence. His crew was together again. Safe. And that was all that really mattered. Losing the ruby hurt, but he would get over it. As long as Hammer wasn’t too upset, Jeth had time to make up the lost profit. Avalon would be his again someday.

But as Jeth walked back to Lizzie, she pumped her fist in the air. “Found him! He’s just outside the palace grounds, but on the move.”

Unable to resist the prompting of his relief, Jeth bent forward and planted a loud kiss on the top of her head. She giggled and shook him off.

“Right,” he said, marching to the cab. “Let’s go run down that lying son of a bitch.”

CHAPTER 07

MINUTES LATER JETH WAS PILOTING THE TRUCK OVER THE palace grounds to the entrance. He’d put on Danforth’s discarded uniform, swearing to himself that he would bathe in turpentine the first chance he got. Shady sat beside him in the passenger’s seat, while Lizzie, Celeste, and Flynn were in the cargo hold, standing out of sight of the door. They didn’t bother getting back into the barrels. The security measures were focused on incoming vehicles, not outgoing.

Jeth sat up straighter in his seat as he approached the gate. Half a dozen sentries lined each side. He slowed the truck, waiting to be waved through. He was, and as Jeth accelerated, he called for Lizzie.

“Make a left at that next street,” she said, sitting in the passenger’s seat after Shady vacated it.

Jeth took the turn easy, not yet adjusted to the truck’s controls. But the moment he was straight again, he pushed it hard, ignoring the posted speed limits. Lizzie sent him down several other streets, a winding path that didn’t make any sense to Jeth. He figured Danforth and his crew would be heading out of the city as soon as possible. But then again, they probably didn’t have a spaceship with a functioning stealth drive waiting. They would have to charter a flight off planet through one of only a handful of ports, hoping they could smuggle the ruby out successfully.

“Oh my,” Lizzie said.

Jeth glanced at her. “What?”

“The signal separated.”

“What does that mean?”

“That someone using that comm split off from the main group. Looks like the person is heading down an alley.”

“An alley?” Jeth frowned, trying to make sense of it.

“The first signal stopped just around the corner,” said Lizzie.

Jeth pulled back on the controls, slowing the truck. Fortunately, the street they were on was empty of other vehicles. “Let me see it.”

Lizzie held up the screen, and Jeth examined the map that showed the two red dots of the comm system they were tracking as well as the outline of the buildings and streets around them. Sure enough, one of the dots was moving down an alley, the progress too slow to be a vehicle, Jeth guessed. The other dot had come to a stop completely a short distance beyond the alley.

A hunch came to Jeth as he remembered Danforth’s silence after his taunt about Soleil handing him over to Hammer. It hadn’t been an unfounded taunt at all, and Danforth might have realized it. Or maybe Aileen and her giant of a partner had decided to eliminate him now that they had what they wanted. That was the trouble with criminals—one could always trust them to be untrustworthy.

Returning his focus to the front, Jeth piloted the truck forward, accelerating hard.

“What are you doing?” Lizzie said as they passed the street where their quarry had turned. “They’re back there.”

“I have an idea.” He made a left on the next street. “Let me know when we’ve reached the alley the second signal is heading down.” He leaned forward and switched off the truck’s autopilot override, a feature designed to take over control of the truck if it ventured too near any objects.

“Oh!” Lizzie said, catching on. A few seconds later she pointed to the left. “It’s there.”

Jeth steered the truck up onto the sidewalk. The anticollision alarms began to sound, filling the truck with a piercing wail. “Celeste, grab me a stunner,” Jeth called over his shoulder.

By the time he brought the truck to a stop, blocking the alley as well as he could, Celeste was handing one to him. “Take over,” he said, standing up.

Celeste stepped into the cab, assuming his place in the pilot’s seat as he exited the truck. Jeth primed the stunner and headed into the alley.

Within seconds he saw Danforth running his way. He looked crazed, his eyes wide and his mouth open in a silent scream.

“Stop, Danforth,” someone shouted from down the alley. “It was an accident. We aren’t going to hurt you, I swear!”

So they did try to kill him, Jeth thought. And the slimy bastard had gotten away.

Danforth slowed when he saw Jeth, stumbling over the litter-strewn alley floor. Behind Danforth, Aileen was closing in with the Luke 357 in her hand. So much for not hurting him.

“Duck,” Jeth said, raising the stunner. As Danforth did so, Jeth took aim. The stunner was small, meant for short range, but Jeth was a good shot. He exhaled, a calm spreading over him. Time seemed to stretch as he watched Aileen’s eyes register his presence and her hands raise the gun in response. It didn’t matter. Jeth was in his element. He pulled the trigger, and the stunner bolt burst out from the end of the gun in a flash of brilliant blue light.

Aileen tried to dodge it, but it struck her in the chest, and she crumpled to the ground. A thrill of triumph rose up in Jeth but died at once as Danforth barreled past him, heading toward the end of the alley. Jeth turned and followed after him, aiming the stunner at his back.

Shady stepped around the corner just as Danforth reached it and, with one vicious swipe of his arm, caught Danforth across the neck and sent him flying backward. Danforth’s head cracked against the pavement as he landed.

Jeth reached them, and together he and Shady hauled Danforth up and shoved him into the truck.

“Let’s go,” Jeth said when they were all inside.

Celeste punched the controls, and the truck launched forward. Jeth turned away from the front window and headed into the cargo hold, where they’d dumped Danforth in the aisle between the barrels. Jeth set the stunner on one of the barrels, and then he stooped over Danforth and began to search his pockets. The ruby had to be on him. Why else would Aileen have pursued him down the alley? Danforth had traded his Wellforth uniform for a footman’s long black jacket. A hard bulge in the right front pocket drew Jeth’s focus.

As Jeth pulled the ruby out, Danforth’s eyes flashed open. He reached for the ruby, trying to snatch it from Jeth’s hand. Jeth pulled back and then struck Danforth in the temple with the back of his fist. Danforth cried out and tried to roll away, but there was nowhere to go in the cramped space.

Jeth raised his hand, ready to hit him again, ready to leave him bloody and unconscious. But he held back as an inhuman howl issued from Danforth’s throat.

“Please,” he said, pushing himself into a sitting position. “Please, Jeth. Please don’t tell Hammer.” Danforth reached toward him, the gesture one of supplication instead of threat. “Please don’t tell him.”

Jeth took a step back, his stomach churning as he watched a tendril of black liquid slip from Danforth’s nose and into his mouth.

“Please, Jeth, please.” Danforth slowly got to his feet, his whole body trembling from something more than fear.

“It’s too late.” Pity and revulsion twisted inside Jeth’s chest like snakes. “He already knows.”

Danforth shrieked, the sound a piercing strike against Jeth’s eardrums. Then, with surprising speed, Danforth leaped forward, crashing into him. Jeth stumbled and went down, Danforth on top of him, his stinking, rotted breath hot on his face, choking him.

Danforth was a thing possessed, not man but force—desperation and madness made flesh. He clawed at Jeth’s face, trying to gouge out his eyes. Jeth fought back, dropping the ruby as he moved to protect his face. Danforth reared up, his mouth open and teeth bared.

He’s going to bite me, Jeth thought, horrified.

“Get him off!”

But Shady was already there, trying to grab hold of Danforth’s thrashing limbs. Danforth struck Shady in the nose with one wild punch, and Jeth heard the crack as it broke. Shady bellowed in pain and stumbled backward.

Flynn came at him next, but he stood little chance, still weakened from the stunner blow. Danforth struck him in the temple and he went down.

Jeth managed to get his hands on Danforth’s shoulder, holding him off but just barely. He was bigger than Danforth, but the fervor of Danforth’s addiction-fueled madness lent him unnatural strength. A wet heat slid down Jeth’s face, blood from where Danforth’s nails had cut him.

Danforth continued to thrash, his strength unrelenting. Jeth tilted his head back as far as he could, trying to keep it out of danger. Above and behind him, he saw Lizzie standing with the stunner gripped in her shaking hands, fear etched across her face.

“Shoot him!” Jeth screamed.

Lizzie hesitated a moment longer. Danforth’s mouth brushed Jeth’s arm as the man changed the focus of his attack.

“Shoot him!” Jeth felt teeth clench down on his forearm, and the skin, so soft and vulnerable, tore in a blaze of white heat.

“Shoot him, Liz! Shoot him!”

Jeth saw her expression harden. A second later a loud crack and a burst of blue light filled the cargo hold. Jeth felt the heat of the stunner shot warm his face, and then he slipped into darkness.

CHAPTER 08

JETH DIDN’T REGAIN CONSCIOUSNESS UNTIL THEY WERE almost back to the Debonair. He sat up and looked around, spying Lizzie sitting on top of a barrel across from him. She looked guilt-stricken.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice far too quiet for his normally boisterous sister.

Jeth rubbed his aching head. It hurt, but not nearly as much as it would have if the stunner had hit him directly instead of just grazing him. There was that to be grateful for, at least. He slid his hand over his face, inspecting the damage with his fingers. Blood crusted the cuts on his cheeks where Danforth had clawed him. He needed to disinfect them soon. The bite on his arm was worse. He hoped one of the barrels was still full so he could douse it in alcohol.

“I’m fine,” Jeth said at last, looking up. He smiled, hiding the wince as the gesture pulled at his cuts. “You did good.”

She nodded, her expression unchanged.

Jeth frowned. “What’s wrong? Why are you so upset?”

“She thinks she killed him,” Shady said from where he stood in the opposite corner from Lizzie. He was casually tossing the Heart of the Universe from hand to hand like a baseball. Celeste and Flynn were in the cab of the truck. Shady pointed toward the back. Jeth turned and saw Danforth in a heap of tangled limbs.

“That’s nonsense,” Jeth said, getting to his feet. “He’ll be fine. It was just a stunner.” He walked over to Danforth and examined his face. Burner blood flowed freely from his nostrils, as well as his eyes and ears. Jeth swallowed. Maybe he wasn’t going to be all right. He bent over and felt for a pulse in Danforth’s neck. He found it after a few seconds. It was weak, but his Odyssey-ravaged heart was still beating.

Jeth turned back to Lizzie. “He’ll survive. The worst of it he did to himself.”

Lizzie didn’t say anything, and Jeth recoiled from the onslaught of guilt. Please don’t die. He didn’t want Lizzie shouldering that kind of burden.

He walked back to his sister and put an arm around her, squeezing. “I mean it, Liz. The blood is from the Odyssey, not your stunner shot.”

She swallowed. “I know that.”

Jeth sighed, knowing that she would need time to get over it. He shouldn’t expect her to bounce back right away. Hell, he would need time to get over it—the memory of Danforth’s face with his teeth bared and so close to his was enough fodder for a dozen nightmares.

Jeth hugged her once more, then stepped through the doorway to the cab. Ahead, the trees on the path they were following gave way to the clearing where they’d parked the Debonair hours before. Celeste pulled the truck to a stop and powered down the engines.

Mark Hilty greeted them with palpable relief as they climbed out.

“Thanks for alerting Hammer for us,” Jeth said as they began to clean out the truck of all evidence of their presence.

“Sure. If you’d gotten caught, it would’ve been my ass as much as yours.”

Jeth snorted. Not hardly. But he was too tired for a needless argument.

“What are you going to do about him?” Hilty asked, pointing at Danforth, still lying in the cargo hold. They’d been working around him, a problem no one wanted to face.

Jeth stared at Danforth, dread pulsing in his temples. It was up to him. He was the leader, and that meant making the hard decisions.

The rest of the Shades gathered around him.

“We could just leave him here,” Celeste said when Jeth hesitated.

Yes, they could.

“Or we could kill him,” Shady said, sounding only half-serious.

Jeth considered it. Killing him might be humane, merciful. But who was Jeth to make that choice? In that moment he’d never felt more like his age. Gone was the swagger of his position as leader of the Malleus Shades. In that moment he wanted to be someone else, somewhere else, more desperately than ever before. He wished he were on Avalon, traveling carefree through space, the tether of such responsibilities broken.

But that was just a fantasy. And it would remain one forever unless he continued to play this role and earn the money he needed.

Kill him.

Jeth tried to imagine if he even could. He was relieved to discover that he couldn’t. Not in cold blood. For once that dark, calculating part of him was silent.

Please don’t tell him, Danforth had said. Even in his crazed, drug-ravaged state he’d understood what was in store for him.

Jeth had known it, too. But he’d already given Danforth a chance to do the right thing. He couldn’t do it again. Hardening himself against the doubt already creeping into his mind and heart, Jeth made his decision. “We turn him over to Hammer.”

Nobody spoke, not to agree or argue. Jeth turned and headed for the Debonair, relieved to have the decision made. He pushed the doubt away, thinking about how Danforth had nearly gotten them captured. And he’d hurt Lizzie, both physically and emotionally. That alone was enough for Jeth to make his peace with it.

And he would. Sooner or later.

CHAPTER 09

WHEN JETH AND HIS CREW ARRIVED BACK AT THE SPACEPORT they called home, Hammer’s soldiers were waiting for them. There were two orders of soldiers, higher and lower—the Malleus Brethren and the Malleus Guards. The Brethren wore black brain implants fixed to the backs of their skulls, a technology that gave them extraordinary strength, intelligence, and—according to rumor—the ability to communicate mind to mind.

The Guard, the lower order, wore clear-colored implants. These lent them strength too, but it also imprisoned their minds, erasing them forever. The Guard were little more than shells of human flesh, mindless slaves, alive but not alive. Living dead men.

“Where is the traitor?” one of the Brethren asked Jeth as he descended the ramp onto the flight deck. Lizzie and the others followed after him.

“In the brig. It’s unlocked.” There hadn’t been a reason to lock Danforth in. He hadn’t stirred once on the journey home. Jeth had a feeling the Odyssey might’ve permanently damaged his brain. Not that it mattered, given the fate that awaited him.

The Brethren who had spoken motioned to the Guard, and they stepped forward in eerie unison and marched into the cargo bay, their faces expressionless and their eyes vacuous. Jeth shivered. They might as well be robots or reanimated corpses. They did not speak.

They carried Danforth out a moment later, holding his body up over their heads like a sacrificial lamb on the way to the slaughter.

“Where are you taking him?” Jeth asked the Brethren, even though he already knew. But he couldn’t ignore the tremor of hope that he might be wrong.

“Surgery,” the Brethren answered.

Jeth exhaled. He hated being right this time. He tried to picture what Danforth would look like afterward—his greasy hair shaved short and his face a mask of nothingness from the implant inserted into the back of his skull, a clear one, same as the rest of the Guard. He would be Danforth no more, and he would never betray Hammer again.

“Hammer wants to see you right away,” the other Brethren said. “We’re to take you to him.”

Jeth had guessed as much. He touched the pocket of his flight jacket, which he’d put on after he’d showered and changed back into his own clothes. The ruby, or whatever it was, lay inside it. He was anxious to turn it over.

Some fifteen minutes later, they arrived at Hammer’s estate, located at the center of the spaceport. To Jeth’s surprise, the Brethren didn’t take him to one of Hammer’s offices or meeting rooms but rather into the private gardens. The heavy perfume from the flowers and the dark smell of earth and plants filled Jeth’s nose and made him momentarily dizzy.

“He’s through there,” one of the Brethren said, pointing at a vine-covered trellis.

Jeth walked through it alone and spotted Hammer sitting on a veranda. Once upon a time, it might’ve seemed odd to Jeth to find such a place on a spaceport—a real-life garden with simulated sunshine overhead, enough to warrant the covering on the veranda—but he knew that the appearance of wealth and power mattered more to Hammer than anything else. And a garden like this in the middle of space was decadent in the extreme.

“Hello, Jethro,” Hammer said from the lawn chair he was reclining in. He raised a glass, cloudy with condensation and full of some brown liquid over ice, and took a long drink. He was a big man, both in muscle and fat, his shoulders wide and arms thick, his belly prodigious. Like his soldiers, he wore a brain implant, a red one fixed to his skull like a parasitic spider. Hammer set the glass on the table next to him. “Do you have the ruby?”

Jeth pulled the stone from his pocket and handed it to Hammer, who accepted it with one meaty hand. He examined the so-called ruby, a pleased expression rising to his face.

“Excellent. Congratulations on another successful job.”

Normally, Jeth didn’t engage Hammer in conversation unless he absolutely had to, but curiosity got the better of him. “What is it? I know it’s not ruby.”

“No, it’s not.” Hammer examined Jeth, his eyes like small black stones on his broad face. “To be honest, I’m not exactly sure what it is. Nor do I care.”

Of course not, Jeth thought. All Hammer cared about was the monetary value. “Who wanted it then?”

An amused smile spread over Hammer’s lips. The question had been impertinent, but Hammer was in a good mood. Jeth wondered why, a sinking feeling in his gut that it might be satisfaction over Danforth’s punishment. For a second, Jeth pictured Danforth on an operating table, the long spike of the brain implant being pressed against the back of his skull.

“The ITA,” Hammer said.

Jeth blinked, trying to imagine what the Interstellar Transport Authority would want with a random piece of rock and failing to come up with a single explanation. The ITA manufactured and policed all the metatech in the universe—the technology that enabled light-speed space travel. “Did they say why they wanted it?”

Hammer set the stone on the table and picked up his glass. “I believe they wish to study it for some project or other. But it’s all highly classified, naturally.”

“Oh,” Jeth said, some of his interest draining away. Where the ITA was concerned, he’d long ago learned to distance himself. His parents had been part of the ITA—up until the time they’d been executed for treason.

He supposed Soleil Marcel’s interest in the stone had been the same as Hammer’s. The ITA was the single most powerful entity in the universe, but they weren’t stupid enough to seize such an important religious artifact from one of their constituent planets outright. Asking for it wouldn’t have worked either; the Grakkians prized it too much. In those situations the ITA usually relied on the criminal element to do their dirty work for them. Jeth supposed it made for good business all the way around.

“I’ll have the payment posted in your account,” Hammer said, the finality in his tone alerting Jeth that any further discussion about the ITA was over. “And I suppose I’ll throw in a little bonus for Danforth.” Hammer grinned, the gesture an inevitable leer given the subject matter. “I appreciate your bringing him back to me in one piece. More or less.”

Jeth swallowed, regret and disgust souring his belly. “What about Lizzie?” He hadn’t wanted to ask, but he couldn’t pretend she hadn’t been there. It was all in the report he’d sent ahead of him.

“Well, now,” Hammer said. “It was a little bit earlier that I’d planned, but your sister more than lived up to the challenges of her role. I see no reason why she can’t assume the tech ops position right away.”

Jeth nodded, trying to keep his emotions from showing on his face. He couldn’t deny that she’d proven herself. She had gotten the job done, far exceeding his expectations. Her foresight and initiative in guessing Danforth’s intentions and then sending word to Hammer had saved them all. And she had been the one to locate and ultimately take down Danforth. She did seem ready to be a part of the Shades.

But Jeth hated the idea of putting her in danger. She should be in school, be a normal kid with normal troubles. She shouldn’t have to face down her fear of guns or wrestle with the possibility that she might have killed someone. He wanted to give her that normal life just as much as he wanted the freedom that owning Avalon would bring him.

Yet in his heart, he knew that ship had flown. It was too late to salvage a normal life for his little sister. Hammer had his mind set on making her part of the crew, and so it would be.

“Is that all?” Jeth asked.

“Yes, that’s all,” said Hammer. “Until the next job.”

Jeth excused himself and headed out the way he’d come in. The two Brethren were still there, and they escorted him out of the estate. Jeth found his own way home. To Avalon.

As he arrived, he saw Lizzie coming down the corridor of the long-term dock where Avalon was moored. He could tell at a glance that she’d made a quick stop in the shopping district. She held a package in one hand and an ice cream cone in the other. Jeth wondered if the ice cream would become a regular ritual for her when they returned from a job. All the crew had such habits, different ways to decompress.

“Hey you,” she said, coming to a stop.

Jeth grinned, relieved that she sounded like herself once more, the trauma of Danforth fading away faster than he’d expected. If we’re lucky she’ll never see him again. He didn’t think witnessing the change in Danforth as he became a Guard would be good for her.

Or me.

“What did you get?” Jeth asked, motioning to the package.

She beamed at him. “A new pair of boots. I’ve been eyeing them for weeks, and Celeste said I could afford them now with my cut from the job.”

Jeth sighed, grimacing.

Lizzie frowned. “Was that not okay? Am I not going to get a cut?”

He screwed his face into a happier expression. He had to make his peace with Lizzie’s place on the crew. There was no undoing it. And he had a feeling Lizzie wouldn’t want to undo it even if she could. The conflict with Danforth had been bad, no doubt, but bad things had a way of losing substance in the light of good things. Like ice cream and new boots.

“It’s fine. Just don’t waste it all and be careful what you spend it on, yeah?”

“Yes, Boss. You got it.” She saluted him with the hand holding the ice cream, tipping it dangerously close to her head.

“You’ll be wearing that next, smart-ass,” said Jeth.

Lizzie giggled and lowered her hand. She licked away the ice cream seeping over the edge of the cone. “So what did Hammer say? Am I officially a part of the Shades?”

Jeth nodded. “Welcome aboard.”

She grinned and saluted again.

He rolled his eyes. “Come on.” He stepped toward the door into Avalon. He keyed the code to open the lock and then headed in. The familiar smell of home filled his nose, seeming to warm him from the inside and to soothe his aches, both external and not.

“You know,” Lizzie said, taking another lick of ice cream, “I think I’m going to save up for a pet. We need one. A Malleus Shades mascot.”

“Oh, no you’re not.” Jeth fixed her with his sternest glare. “There’s no room for pets on a spaceship.”

“Whatever. Of course there is.”

“I mean it, Liz.”

She started to hum, ignoring him.

“Liz—” Jeth began again, but he let it go. He could tell she was just teasing him. Or at least, he was pretty sure she was only teasing.

Either way, it didn’t seem to matter as he climbed the steps to the passenger deck and toward his cabin. The job was done. As Jeth ran his hand along the wall of the corridor, as much caressing as communing with his ship, he felt the future drawing nearer than ever before. Soon Avalon would be his.

And he and his crew would be free.

Content

Proxy
Avalon - 0.5
by
Mindee Arnett

CHAPTER 01

CHAPTER 02

CHAPTER 03

CHAPTER 04

CHAPTER 05

CHAPTER 06

CHAPTER 07

CHAPTER 08

CHAPTER 09