The Moon Dwellers (18 page)

“You have a visitor.
He says he’s expected.”

“Name?” I ask
, already knowing the answer.

“Kruger.”

“He’s
okay,” I say
.

The guard leaves
, closing the door behind him, and
a minute later the door reopens and another guy walks
in.
Compar
ed to the guard, this guy looks tiny.
He i
s actually about my size.
Well, exactly my size actually, both in height, weight, and body type.
Athletic build, six-two without shoes, a hundred and eighty five pounds
dripping wet.
It always amazes me how I can
just snap my finger
s and make things happen.
I have
no id
ea how they
found s
omeone who
so closely resembles
me in
such a short time, but I do
n’t really care about the detail
s.
His face even kind of looks
like mine.
If he wears
a hat
and sunglasses, the guards wo
n’t be able to tell the difference.
Although each member of my security team would rank well across the entirety of the Tri-Realms
when it co
me
s
to muscle
, their IQs would likely sit in the bottom quartile.

“My money?” Kruger says
.
This guy
gets right to the point, which i
s fine with me.

I wave Roc forward.
He extracts
a paper envelope from his pocket,
which clinks as he hands
it acros
s.
“A hundred Nailins,” he says
.
“Count it.”

The guy shakes
his head and the parcel at the same time.
“No
need.
It’s all there,” he says,
as though
he’
s done so many shady
deals that he can
count the coins just by the sound of
their clinking.
Maybe he can.
What do
I know?

Next
,
Roc hands
him some clot
hes, identical to the ones I am
wearing.
A gold tunic
,
a silver bracel
et
,
brown moccasins.
He even gi
ve
s
him a pair of my blue silk boxer shor
ts.
“Put those on,” I say
.

The guy
strips
right in front of us—clearly
modesty i
s low
on his priority list.
I turn
away, removing my own clothes and swapping them for a bla
ck tunic, black pants
,
and black boots.
While I add
a dark hat and sung
lasses to my getup, Roc provides
Kruger with a similar pair of sunglasses and a floppy, white beach hat.
A current edition of a sun dweller magazine and
a bottle of expensive wine from my f
ather’s personal stash complete
the façade.

With a nod, Kruger slid
es
the mo
ney into the magazine and heads
for the door
.
Roc trails
after him.
We’
ve agreed that if the fake me leaves
with
out Roc it will
raise eyebrows;
Roc goes
everywhere with me.
I hid
e
off to the side, behind the red velvet drapes that
provide
privacy at the
poolside windows.
They exit
,
and just before the door closes, I see
the gaggle of guards
surround them.
Kruger’s head i
s tilted slightly downward
, so there will
be even less likelihoo
d that he’
ll
be recognized as anyone but me
.
The door closes and I hear
Roc
’s muffled voice as he explains
to the guards that my
guest
will
be
resting in the suite while I am
at the pool.

I’m not worried.
They will
buy the
story.
After all, they aren’t
really trained to question their masters.
Plus, they a
re
trying to protect me from those who might hurt me, not from escaping.
I’m not
a prisoner—not technically.

I slip
b
ack around the drapes and peek
through the window.
A few minutes later, the dummy me and my entourage ent
er the pool area.
Because we
arriv
ed in the early afternoon, it i
s already packed—f
inding a place to sit would be
near impossible f
or any normal person.
But I am
no normal person, at le
ast not to these people.
It has
all been prepared ahead of my arrival.
A carved
-
out section of the patio, complete with tables, chairs, a vase of flowers, trays o
f food.
To my disgust I notice
a couple of deeply tanned, fake-boobed girls standing ready to fulfill my
every desire.
No doubt
they are
a gift from my dad.

I hope I
never see him again.

Roc leads
the
imposter
t
o the reserved area and motions for the guards to stand
in a circle around me, blocking me from view
of all the rubberneckers who a
re already standing up and
tr
ying to catch a glimpse of the P
resident’s son.
Tha
t mak
e
s
me laugh.

It i
s time to go.

I leave
the suite, tak
ing a minute to scan
the hallw
ay for any guards who might’ve
remained behind, or for any hotel staff who might become a witness to my
escape
.

The hall is empty.

I go
the opposite wa
y down the hall from where we
entered, intent on using the private exit, specially de
signed so that celebrities can
leave
without being noticed.
It will
be guarded by o
ne of my men, but that won’t be a problem.
He will
be looking for someone trying to get in, not for someone on their way out.

I tiptoe
down the stairs, cognizant that any scuff of my feet or scrape of my toes might echo to the bottom, thus alerting
the guard to my presence.
I have
to maintain the element of surprise
if I want
to avoid an ugly confrontation.

I reach
the bottom without so much as a tap of my feet on the stone st
eps.
The thick security door is bolted shut; I raise the lever gently, hoping it has
b
een
oiled
recently
.
When it does
n’t creak, I brea
the
a sigh of relief.
So far, so good.

I take
a deep breath, trying to concentrate.
To focus my mind.
To prepare myself for swift and decisive violence.
T
o incapacitate, not kill.
I have
no hatred for my guards,
no desire to harm them.
They a
ren’t smart enough to think for
themselves.
They just follow
orders.
Maybe that’s not a good excuse, but I let them have it.

Using my shoulder as a battering ram, I burst through the door, bobbing my head left and then r
ight to locate the guard.
He i
s surprised, but alert, alread
y reaching for his sword.
I have mine out and am ready for combat.
Before he raises
his arm in d
efense, the point of my sword i
s at his throat.
I’m not sure if he recognizes
me beneath my sunglasses, but in a few hours it w
o
n’t matter.

As soon as he drops his sword, I swing around behind him and clamp
his chin between my forearm and bicep, slowly tightening the for
ce on his neck.
At first he fi
ght
s it, but then his feet stop kicking, his arms stop
waving, and
he goes to sleep.
I wait
a few more seconds before r
eleasing him, just in case he’
s faking it, and then
lay
his unconscious body to the ground,
kindly
propping his head up on his hip bag.
Before I leave I steal
his sword, just in case.

I slip
around the e
dge of the resort, but no one is nearby—everyone i
s drinking cocktails and splashing around in the pool, their consciences somehow remaining squeaky clean.
If asked, they would probably all claim ignorance as to the living conditions of the moon
and star dwellers.
But they know, even if they a
ren’t willing to admit it to themselves.

I mak
e my way back to the arriving and depart
ing visitors’ entrance, and stri
de confide
ntly past the greeters.
They a
re too busy welcoming some big shot sun dwel
ler and do
n’t even seem to notice me pass by.
T
he dark clothing probably helps
in that regard
,
too.

I wait
for Roc at the mandated location, near the south end of the soon to be arriving transpor
ter.
I hope
we’
ve timed it right, that Roc will
have e
nough time to meet me.
If I have to I will
lea
ve without him, but I really don’t want to.
I tap
my toe on the stone platform nervously.

I hear
the rumble
of the approaching transporter.
Still no Roc.

The transporter burst
s
through the end of the tunnel.
Still no Roc.

A whoosh of air hit
s me as the transporter rolls
to a stop.
No Roc…and then—

Roc appears
at the other end of th
e platform, running hard
toward
me, fear in the whites of his eyes.

He crosses half the platform and I am
still won
dering why he looks
so scared.
Yeah, the train
will
be leaving soon, but he’
s
made it with plenty of time to board wi
th me.
The platform i
s empty;
no one else in their right mind would be traveling from the hottest resort in the Sun Realm to the Moon Realm.

He i
s almost
to me when his pursuers arrive
,
charging through
the resort entrance and gunning
straight for us.
Evidently I’
ve
unde
restimated my guards, or Roc has
done something stupid, or maybe both,
but whatever the case, they know they have
to s
top him.
It is likely they haven’t worked out exactly what i
s h
appening, just that something is
going down
that i
sn’t supposed to.

When Roc reaches me I grab his arm and ru
n with him onto the transporter.
To
his credit, Roc smartly thinks
to hit the door close button repeatedly.