Titanborn (20 page)

“What do you think, Zhaff? The information she can gather for us is far more valuable than having her sitting in a cell.”

“Under those terms, I approve of the arrangement,” Zhaff said, surprising me. I'd expected to have to explain more to him how having leverage over informants could be a collector's most useful tool. I like to think he was beginning to learn a thing or two from me.

“Provided her information checks out, of course,” I added. “Thanks, Maz. It's always fun when we get together.” I stood and rolled her on her chair far away from her console. Then I used one of my bands to fasten her to a pipe. I also bound her legs. I could've stuffed something in her mouth, but gunshots were louder than screams and nobody had heard those earlier.

“Really?” she grumbled, glaring at me with rancor.

I shrugged and said, “Safety first.” Then I headed toward the exit. Zhaff followed, though he kept his gun aimed at her the entire way. I stopped to kneel down and pick up the compromised hand-terminal. “Pervenio will be holding on to this.” As I stood I noticed the bodies of her unconscious guards in my path. “Oh, and I hope you don't mind, but we're going to borrow the armor from two of your friends here.”

“Fuck you, Mal.” She spat in my direction. I suppose I deserved it, so I let her have that one little act of defiance. I always did enjoy her fire.

Zhaff and I changed into the white armor suits Mazrah's guards had been wearing. Mine had a fairly loose fit since it had belonged to a lanky Ringer, but on such short notice it would have to do. They were going to help us get as close to Trevor Cross and the Venta hangars as possible. With the helmets on it was also much easier to avoid the distrusting gazes of the Ringers throughout the lower ward.

The disguise also got the Maw's bouncers to hand over our hand-terminals with ease. I didn't even have to throw a punch. There was no question that the Children of Titan were the new power of the lower ward.

Zhaff used his to send in a report about monitoring Mazrah as we walked. Given his usual efficient manner, a team of officers were already entering the lower ward to head to her suite by the time we reached the lift. He was also able to ensure that no Pervenio security officers would bother us when we reached the upper ward despite our suspicious suits.

We waited until we were back at the hangar we'd arrived in to update Director Sodervall about what had happened. The situation was extremely sensitive and Zhaff didn't want to risk any other brokers like Mazrah listening. Venta Co had full jurisdiction over their own hangars, even if Darien was Pervenio-run, and searching through their property wasn't exactly permitted.

“Not sure how we got lucky enough to stumble onto this one, but it seems Venta Co was definitely helping the Children of Titan with their smuggling,” I said to the director as soon as his wrinkled face popped up on my hand-terminal. “My contact thinks the goods might be in one of their hangars here right now.”

“As if I didn't have enough to worry about already,” the director replied, exhausted. “That will surely complicate things. Our relationship with them is rocky enough considering their ongoing efforts to colonize Europa. Hold off until I speak with Mr. Pervenio before you do anything.”

“He has already provided us with permission to proceed,” Zhaff put in before I could say anything.

“
You
spoke with him?” the director questioned.

The fact that he didn't believe Zhaff let me know for sure that even he didn't know who the Cogent really was. I wasn't usually keen on superseding a director's authority and causing myself trouble, but I had no desire to let anybody else in on Mr. Pervenio's secret and risk breaking my promise.

“We did,” I said. Zhaff wouldn't lie, so with Luxarn Pervenio backing us it didn't really matter if we hurt Director Sodervall's sense of pride. In fact I found it somewhat enjoyable considering everything he'd put me through over the years.

“Fine, proceed,” he grumbled. “You two aren't making my job any easier.”

“It is not meant to be easy, sir,” Zhaff said. Director Sodervall grimaced and ended the transmission immediately after.

I could hardly keep myself from laughing. I knew Zhaff wasn't trying to be funny, but his words couldn't have been any more perfect. “Well said, Zhaff,” I told him after gathering my breath.

He glanced at me silently, lips straight as an arrow. Then a security officer arrived with our belongings and he immediately strapped on his eye-lens. I smirked and grabbed my pistol and other effects, securing them to my belt. It felt good to be armed again.

“So what does the manifest say is going on in that hangar?” I asked him once we were ready.

He pulled out his hand-terminal and swiped his fingers across the screen a few times. His eye-lens pored over the information, and I instantly missed being able to see the human eye beneath it. It helped me remember that he was human, at least physically. “A Venta Co delivery ship from Mars arrived fifteen minutes ago at hangar twenty.”

“What are they supposedly delivering?” I asked as we turned to head back in the other direction.

“Various goods to be distributed throughout to the shops they rent in Darien. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Except for the collector out front. Unless Mazrah made everything up and he's there for another reason, that must be our ship.”

I didn't think she was—not with Zhaff listening to her—but I hadn't expected her to try to kill us, either. There was enough bad blood between Venta and Pervenio to think they might actually make such a bold move if they thought they could get away with it, though. Plus, if she was wrong then we would've been completely out of viable leads. I never liked to consider that option while I was already knee-deep in an assignment.

Zhaff nodded and we set off, still wearing the armor of Mazrah's guards. Security officers watched us attentively, but they kept their distance thanks to the order Zhaff had circulated. I couldn't blame them for remaining wary based on what I'd seen on the Ring so far.

With nobody to stand in our way we were able to reach the closed lobby of hangar 20 in no time. We stopped in front of it, at a screen that displayed the receptionist inside. It didn't take long for me to recognize that it was the same view Mazrah had and that she'd somehow hacked into that camera instead of placing her own.

“This is a private Venta Company hangar,” the receptionist said through an intercom. “What is your business?”

“We're here on behalf of Lady Mazrah,” I responded, as authoritatively as I could manage. “Care to make this quick?”

She bent over, held her hand to her ear, and said something inaudible. A short moment later she looked back into the screen and said: “One moment.”

A second later the entrance opened and Trevor appeared alongside another Venta guard. He held the pistol that matched my own, and the other wielded a top-of-the-line pulse-rifle, not like the shit they gave their Ringer allies. They wore full carbon-fiber suits of armor colored in the navy blue of Venta Co. No helmets.

We approached them slowly, their eyes scrutinizing us. Our disguises could only get us so far considering that I wasn't tall enough to fill mine out. I probably looked a little absurd with how clunky it fit. I did, however, make sure to approach from an angle so that Trevor wouldn't notice my pistol.

“I didn't hear about that bitch sending anyone up,” Trevor said. “What does she want?” Whether Mazrah had helped with the bombing or not, there was no question she was involved enough with what was happening on Titan for a Venta Co collector to know who she was.

“She wants to speak with the Doctor,” I said. “He's causing her trouble.”

“What Doctor?” Trevor scowled and made his pistol more visible. “Sorry, boys, but we're under strict orders. Nobody gets in. We pay good money for this hangar, so tell her to come herself if she wants in.” He leaned in close and whispered, “If you two get caught sneaking up around here again you and that bitch are all dead.”

I bit my tongue. It was usually advised that we try to avoid conflict with other powerful corporations. Trust me, it's amazing how one little gunfight can turn into a decades-long grudge. As I thought about what to say next Zhaff must've seen an opening because he said: “I'm going to strike them, Malcolm.”

He sprang into action and before they could raise their weapons he had torn them from their hands and had his pistol aimed at the side of Trevor's head on an angle that would allow him to take both of them out with a single shot. They extended their hands in surrender. The guard looked scared, like he hadn't seen much action in his life, but Trevor remained calm as a collector ought to. I knew beneath his stone façade his heart was racing.

I drew my weapon and aimed it at the receptionist, getting her to raise her hands so she couldn't alert anybody. “Up,” I said. “Away from the desk.” She listened. By the time she was standing she was in tears. Knowing who Zhaff really was, I quickly realized that anything he did came with the highest level of permission. I had no problem playing along.

“You're going to pay for this, Ringers,” Trevor growled.

I ignored him.
“I'm going to strike them now,”
I said to Zhaff, trying my best to mimic his flat voice. “Really?”

“You said to warn you first,” he replied.

I smirked. “I suppose I asked for that.”

“Hey!” Trevor raised his voice, clearly irritated that nobody was paying attention to him. It was going to make it all the sweeter when he found out who I was. “Do you know who you're messing with?”

“Now we do.” I lifted the visor of my helmet and stared Trevor straight in the eyes. His face was priceless. His jaw dropped, and the fear he'd been masking started to show. “How's your arm?”

“Graves? I knew there was something off about seeing a Ringer as short as you.”

“Yet you still opened up. Like it's your first day on the job.”

“Let me guess. That's your pet partner?”

I took a brief pause from watching the receptionist to grab Trevor by the chest, yank him forward, and punch him across the jaw. It felt good to release all the frustration of having to see Mazrah again on someone who deserved it. I caught him before he fell and shoved him right back into position next to Zhaff's pistol.

“He prefers Zhaff,” I said.

“C'mon, Graves…” Trevor moaned as he rubbed a cut on his lip. “Even you're not this stupid. Gonna start a war just because I called you both a few names?”

“No, but over what you're hiding back there I might. Why don't you let us in and we'll keep this civilized.”

“We're not hiding anything.”

“Lying,” Zhaff stated. He pressed the barrel of his pistol against Trevor's head so hard it threaded his hair.

“You shouldn't lie to my friend here,” I advised. “Open the hangar or he'll shoot you both down like the Venta scum you are.”

“Sorry, Graves, no can do,” Trevor said. “Best walk away now.”

I stepped forward so that our noses were close to touching and glowered into his eyes. “Last chance, Cross. Open the hangar or you'll upset him.”

“When our bosses hear about this they'll have you and your pet sweeping floors until he's as old as you are.”

I decided to take a page out of Zhaff's book. I shot Trevor in the shoulder of the same arm I'd injured earlier, then returned to aiming at the receptionist. It was in the meat, but he fell over, screaming.

“Are you fucking crazy!” Trevor howled. “I'll have you both spaced!”

“Open it,” I said to the other guard who was staring as Trevor squirmed in pain. He was definitely rattled.

“Answer him,” Zhaff ordered. He stepped around Trevor and took aim directly at the guard's head.

The guard took a deep breath before he glanced down at Trevor. “I'm not dying for them,” he muttered. “There are Ringers inside. They paid a ton for safe transport. I don't know or care what they've got, but I'll let you in if you tell that one not to shoot.”

I nodded in Zhaff's direction and he grabbed the guard by the collar and dragged him toward the hangar entrance's control panel. “Enter the code,” Zhaff said to him.

“Fucking coward…” Trevor whispered through clenched teeth.

I knelt next to him.

“You…you have him handling everything for you now, old man?” he asked, struggling to put on his usual grin. He was in too much pain. His armor softened the blow enough for his arm not to fall off, but a pulse-pistol round from that close meant it went clear through him.

“Impressive, isn't he?” I remarked.

He tried to sit up, but failed. “You might as well kill me, Malcolm…because you signed a death warrant.”

“I'm disappointed in you. Aiding terrorists? You should know better than that.”

“I…have my…orders.”

“So do I.” The pain had him breathing heavily and ready to pass out. I leaned in close so he could hear me. “I'll see you soon, Cross. And for Earth's sake would you buy a new pistol already?”

Before he could respond I cracked him in the head with the butt of my gun, knocking him unconscious. “Get him help,” I barked to the receptionist. “Now!” I shot her computer, causing it to burst into sparks so that it'd be useless to her. She ran frantically out of the lobby. As good as it felt to put him in his place, we were collectors. It wasn't my job to kill for free.

I got up and looked over at the hangar entrance. Zhaff had punched the guard across the face, incapacitating him as well. The heavy gate was unlocked and it slowly rose into the ceiling. I hurried over to him.

“You ready?” I asked.

“Ready,” he replied.

Once the gate was open enough for us to fit, we edged into the hangar side by side, pulse-pistols raised. A small ship was parked in the center, and standing around the lowered cargo bay ramp were at least four armed Children of Titan combatants in concealing white armor. The same orange circle we had seen in the attack on the
Piccolo
was imprinted on their chests. Three storage containers stood upright among them, stamped with the Pervenio logo.

They quickly hand-signed something to one another before opening fire on us with the same model of outmoded Venta Co rifles as earlier. Zhaff and I dove behind the steely base of a decontamination chamber right before a spray of bullets riddled us with holes.

“Stand down, fugitives!” Zhaff shouted as he popped up to fire off a few shots of his own. I tried to do the same, but was immediately forced back into cover. We were in a stalemate like that for about a minute, and being that it was a private hangar, there was no Darien security near enough to hear the scuffle through the colony block's dense metal walls.

Zhaff's eye-lens aimed at me and he motioned with his hand that he was going to try to make an approach.

“I'll cover you,” I whispered, though it was probably closer to a shout so that he could hear me over the gunfire.

We went to make our move and an explosion shook the floor. I yanked Zhaff back and popped up to see a smoking gash in the outer plating of Darien, exposing us to the exterior. Freezing air whipped in and I could feel its bite even through my suit. Alarms wailed, red emergency lights flashed, and the entrance to the hangar sealed shut with a
snap-hiss.
If Pervenio security wasn't aware of the disturbances earlier, they were then.