Giles Kurns_Rogue Instigator Page 11

  The Crown put down his drink and jiggled to his feet. He straightened up. “You can,” he said solemnly.

  Giles nodded once. “Well then, I’ll get right to it,” he concluded. “Thank you, Your Highness. You have been most gracious.”

  The Crown almost bowed to Giles in return, and Giles made a slight bow back before taking his leave.

  Hurrying from the room, he searched his mind for the different pieces of the puzzle they could bring together. As he strode purposefully down the corridors, one piece after another seemed to fall into place.

  But getting these pieces to happen in reality wasn’t going to be easy. Far from it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Aboard the Scamp Princess, outside the Royal Settlement, Mallifrax-8

  Giles arrived back on the Scamp Princess, distracted and a touch manic. Instead of reporting in to Arlene in the cockpit, he headed straight for the kitchen, opening and closing cupboard doors.

  Arlene appeared at the doorway. “What on Estaria are you doing?”

  Giles glanced at her and clocked Anne appearing at the other side of the door frame. “Looking for something,” he replied between doors.

  Next, he was on his knees, one cupboard over from the sink. He spotted something and grunted, reaching in as far as his arm would allow. His face pressed against the upper side of the cupboard as he strained to grab something at the back.

  There were clinks and chinks as he rummaged blindly. After several tries, he resigned himself to putting his head into the cupboard to get more reach. He pulled out a few bottles and some small dusty cases.

  Arlene looked on in interest.

  Finally, he reemerged, pulling with him a bottle that was thick with dirt and dust. “Got it!” he declared, relieved but still frustrated by the hassle he was causing himself. He carefully placed the bottle into the sink and then replaced the items he’d taken out.

  “What is that?” Arlene asked, this time hoping for some answers.

  “This,” Giles said, dusting it off with his bare hands, “is our key to getting the talisman.”

  Arlene raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

  Giles grinned. “It is.” He placed it carefully on the table and sat down, catching his breath. “Ok, so here’s what I realized as I was walking back . . . oh, The Crown said no, by the way. Well, no unless we can fix the other parts of the situations.”

  Arlene remained silent as Giles rambled.

  “So here’s the situation as I see it. We have three components holding this slavery situation in place. The regulations, the equipment, and access to the mines, including the right to mine them—which is again related to the regs, and finally, the ability to sell the ore at a fair price.”

  Arlene nodded.

  “Right, so we need to fix the mining equipment issue and the selling at a fair price.”

  “And that ancient bottle of sake is going to help, how?”

  Giles grinned, shaking his head at himself in amazement. “Well, this ancient bottle of sake is more of a rice liquor by now. And very old. So old that it’s probably the only one of its kind still in existence, I’d reckon.”

  “And how do you have it?” Arlene asked, one eyebrow firmly planted upwards.

  Giles took off his glasses. “That is a longer story. However, let’s just say I stashed a whole heap of stuff on a number of ships over the years when I was hanging with the Federation.” His mind drifted and he shook his head, bringing himself back. “The point is, this little baby is our key. Our key to getting Bill on board.”

  “Bill?”

  “Yeah . . . my old buddy Bill. When I was on the ship with the MacKegan guy, there was something I was trying to remember. Something familiar that was edging its way into my consciousness. It was Bill.”

  “Who the fuck is Bill?” Arlene blurted out, before she remembered Anne was there.

  Giles glanced at Anne but said nothing. “He used to run mining equipment and was super connected in those things. Hooked me up with a few rides to some far-flung places on occasion . . . as long as I promised to keep mum about what I saw.”

  “And what did you see?”

  Giles waved his hand dismissively. “Not the point. The point is, if I can convince Bill to pull in some of his mining contacts and show them that Mallifrax-8 is a good idea, we may be able to fix that side of the equation.”

  Arlene frowned. “Apart from the question of how you’re going to do that . . . what about the other side. The selling?”

  Giles got up and cleaned his glasses. “I’m assuming that will fall into place once we get the mines producing independently of the MacKegans. And like I said . . . Bill. He’s connected. Or he was. Goodness knows what he’s up to these days.”

  Giles headed towards the door, and Arlene and Anne parted ways to let him pass.

  “Lemme see if Scamp can locate him,” Giles muttered as he disappeared up to the cockpit.

  “Scamp . . . can you find someone from my past for me?”

  Arlene and Anne scurried after him. Anne whispered to Arlene. “It’s like watching a mad professor at work.”

  Arlene smiled. “Like? It’s exactly that!” she agreed.

  Anne giggled, excited by the sudden turn of events and the possibility of seeing this new person who traveled the stars and conducted business like an orchestra.

  “Yes,” Scamp said to Giles, “I’ll need as much history as you can remember.”

  Giles began punching keys to input data.

  Ten minutes later, Arlene had disappeared back to the kitchen and returned with a mocha. “So what now?” she asked, watching Giles and Scamp work at tracking down this stranger called Bill.

  “Well, I need to go see him to convince him.”

  “Why can’t you just holo him?”

  “Because.” Giles smirked. “I need to give him that bottle of sake.”

  “And that’s going to convince him?”

  “Knowing him as I do—yes.”

  “Giles, you’re kidding? That’s your plan? An old bottle of rice wine?”

  “Nope. I’m not kidding. And if this doesn’t do the job, I dunno what will.”

  Arlene paused, letting the aroma from her mocha mug waft gently into her face. “We should stay here,” she said.

  Anne shot her a look of disbelief.

  “It’s safer for Anne,” she continued, oblivious to Anne’s silent protests. “Plus, we can begin her training.”

  Giles didn’t even look up from what he was doing. “Something tells me you’re not talking about Anne. You’re going to try doing your voodoo negotiation skills on them, aren’t you?”

  Arlene smiled into her mocha. “It would be remiss of me not to try,” she said mysteriously. “You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”

  “Fine. As long as you think you’ll be ok. Lemme see if The Crown can have you stay on the Royal Settlement.”

  Arlene rocked gently in her console chair. “Yes. I think The Crown is on our side and will look out for us if we need help. Not that I’m expecting any trouble . . . those boys seems all bluster and no bite.”

  Giles flicked a few switches off to his left, activating a comm channel with the settlement guard. “Scamp, could you make the necessary arrangements?”

  “Of course.”

  Anne got out of her chair, fuming. She stomped through the cockpit and ran down the steps, leaving a wake of energy that vibrated the shell of the ship.

  Arlene and Giles looked at each other.

  Giles’s eyes were open wide. “What was that?”

  Arlene rolled her eyes and went back to sipping her mocha. “Adolescence,” she said flatly.

  Within the Royal Settlement

  Giles carried the last of the cases Arlene had commandeered for their short stay in the Royal Settlement. “Fuck, Arlene! What have you got in here?”

  Arlene came through from one of the bedrooms. “Just a few supplies we might need . . . clothes, training equipment . . . weapons.”

&nbs
p; Giles tried to catch her eye, but Anne ambled in, clutching her drawings. “Weapons for training?” he qualified.

  “Uh huh,” Arlene confirmed, ambling back into the bedroom with an armful of stuff she’d brought from the Scamp Princess.

  Giles suspected she was telling him what he wanted to hear. “Well, it’s a good thing you don’t have pods,” he muttered, plonking the case down.

  “Why’s that?” Anne piped up.

  “Because,” he said, his eyes softening as he looked at her, “your Auntie Arlene has a jonesing for some action.”

  “Not her aunt!” Arlene’s voice called from the other room.

  “Not a baby!” Anne stated without missing a beat.

  Giles wiped his face with one hand as he straightened up.

  Anne grinned. “You’re afraid Arlene will hurt someone, aren’t you?”

  Giles nodded grimly. “Multiple someones, as it happens.”

  Anne pursed her lips, and with an air of a wisdom beyond her years, she nodded sagely. “I can see that.”

  Giles, now adequately bemused and concerned, traipsed out toward the ship. “Ok, Scamp, I think we’re ready,” he said into his holo connection.

  Scamp activated the takeoff sequence, calculating the delicate maneuver to get the ship out of the compound without destroying all the wood cabins around it.

  “Ok, Anne, stay safe and please do what Arlene tells you,” Giles said turning to Anne, who’d seemingly become clingy, as she followed him closely up to the boarding steps at the side entrance.

  Giles glanced down. She looked sullen, and then . . . emotional. She flung her arms around him. “Take me with you! I’ll be good, I promise. Just please . . . take me with you.”

  Giles tried to peel her off, but after his second rather firm attempt, he gave up and hugged her back. “Now, now . . . the whole reason we’ve just unloaded and arranged this vacation palace for you two is so that Arlene can keep you safe. Right here.”

  Anne didn’t let go. It was moments like this that he wondered how young she actually was. Height-wise, her head came up to his chest. She had the sass and wits of an older teenager. But she’d probably seen much trauma, and familial bonding was unlikely to have been stable.

  He knew leaving her here was the right thing to do, yet . . .

  “Anne, listen to me,” he said, peeling her up off his chest so he could look at her. He pulled her hair out of her face. “It’s going to be ok. I promise. I’ll be back in a jiffy, and in the meantime, you can get going with your training and have some new stuff to show me when I get back.”

  A tear escaped her eye. Giles brushed it away.

  “And look,” he continued, “when you’re older and you’ve got your Estarian voodoo badassery going on, you’ll be able to come and save my life.”

  She smiled through her watery eyes.

  “I’m really just investing in my future . . .” he added, grinning down at her.

  Anne tried to laugh a little and released him, wiping her eyes so that Arlene wouldn’t see.

  Giles glanced over her shoulder. “Ok, Arlene . . . stay in touch through that channel,” he called, almost as if talking in code.

  Arlene nodded, her arms folded against the chill in the air. She moved forward and placed a parental arm around Anne’s shoulder. Anne didn’t rebuff her.

  Giles waved at the pair and headed up the steps onto the Scamp Princess.

  Moments later, the invisible steps melted away and the door started to close as the engines quietly engaged.

  Anne watched the ship as it started to move. “You don’t really think he’s going to change this guy’s mind with an old bottle of sake, do you?”

  Arlene gave her shoulders a little squeeze. “Believe it or not, I think he probably will . . .”

  The ship lifted gracefully in the air, deftly avoiding pointing air currents or heat in the direction of any of the huts. Within a minute, it was high enough to move away from the settlement, and within another minute, it was climbing high into the atmosphere and shrinking into nothingness.

  “Ok, young lady,” Arlene said, leading the girl into the cabin. “Let’s get packed away, and then we can sort out some food.”

  Anne hesitated before she spoke. “And then . . . training?”

  Arlene had already turned her back, but a smile crept across her face. “Sure. And then training . . . if you like.”

  Arlene and Anne’s cabin, Royal Settlement

  “Again!” Arlene instructed sternly.

  Anne pulled her hands together fireball-distance apart, and using all her concentration, tried to channel the energy from her surroundings into focus.

  Her nose screwed up. Her shoulders tensed. Her jaw taught with concentration. Then she relaxed, exhaling suddenly. “Dammit!” she cursed, frustration rising in her chest.

  Arlene sighed. “It’s ok. You’ll get it. You’re just trying too hard,” she explained. “You need to let it flow . . . rather than force it.”

  Anne shook her head despondently. “But it happens on its own when I’m angry,” she protested.

  Arlene nodded. “It would. The key phrase there is, on its own.”

  Anne’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “So what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying you need to relax, and you need to allow the intention to make it happen. Then you learn where the on-off switch is.”

  Anne sighed and shook her arms out, getting ready to go again.

  Arlene picked up her atmosjacket from the chair. Anne noticed that the entire time she’d been working on this exercise, Arlene had been strapping on concealed weapons—two in her pants, a sword down her back, small ankle guns strapped into her boots, and the larger one now hidden by her jacket. Then she holstered the two that were on the kitchen table into the gun holders on each thigh.

  “You going somewhere?” Anne asked, mid-motion.

  “To see a man about a dog,” Arlene replied.

  Anne cocked her head, allowing her arms to fall by her side. “But what about what Giles said . . . about not hurting the locals.”

  Arlene grinned. “These guys aren’t locals,” she said, winking. “Stay here, keep practicing. There’s soup that isn’t laced with candy in the cold unit.” Arlene headed towards the door, then turned back. “And when I say stay here, I mean it. Giles is in more danger than if I were with him because he thought it was important to keep you safe . . . so don’t go making that all for nothing by leaving this cabin.”

  Anne opened her mouth to protest.

  Arlene put up one finger. “Think about it. We don’t need to keep having this conversation.”

  Anne closed her mouth and lowered her head. “Yes, Auntie Arlene,” she said, looking up from under her forehead.

  Arlene gave her a warning glare, then a half smile. “I’ll be back soon,” she said, stepping out of the cabin door and closing it behind her.

  Anne made the movement that Arlene had been instructing her on, closing her eyes in concentration. She inhaled, trying to relax her mind . . .

  Bringing her arms up, hands fireball-distance apart. She opened one eye.

  The cabin was silent. Arlene was gone.

  In ten minutes she’ll be gone from the settlement. Anne’s eyes scanned left to right. She was on her own.

  Again she dropped her arms, then quietly wandered over to the window to see Arlene disappearing around the side of another cabin, on the way to the front entrance.

  Ten minutes, she thought. Twenty tops. And then I’ll head out after her.

  Mining settlement, Mallifrax-8

  It’d been a long hike, but somehow, being the second time she’d covered this journey, it felt shorter. Either that, or her muscles had grown to meet the challenge.

  Arlene strode into the mining settlement and checked her holo. Eighty minutes. For a further distance than last time. Not bad, she thought. Not bad at all . . . for an aging Estarian mystic.

  Arlene noticed that even though the miners were looking at h
er, a crowd didn’t form like the first time she arrived. In fact, no one challenged her.

  Just as well, she thought. She had her game face on and really didn’t need the distraction.

  Striding confidently as if she knew where she were going, she headed straight to the docking area. She’d clocked it on her first visit but had had no idea what it was. Only in talking with The Crown over dinner did she put it together with the mining setup.

  The Crown had been exceptionally helpful with intel—without even realizing it.

  She smirked. By my ancestors, it’s great to be back in the field again.

  The docking bay was a hub of activity. There were shuttles and transport freighters bringing equipment and personnel to and from the surface.

  It was an eerie contrast to the almost primitive village she’d just walked through. This place was an open building of metal and machines. Of industry and efficiency. Nothing like the world of wooden huts and wheelbarrows she had to her back. Yet if she turned 180 degrees, she’d be back in that land.

  She took a deep breath, her eyes quickly scanning for the personnel shuttle that’d take her up to the ship. Negotiating passage might be a challenge . . . but what she often found was, if one pretended like one was meant to be there, people tended to just assume you were.

  And as she kept noticing, these Queegerts weren’t really ones for critical thinking, so they probably weren’t going to question a newcomer that knew the name of their boss. She hoped she was right.

  She spotted the shuttle and made a bee line for it. Here goes nothing, she told herself.

  As she approached, a Queegert who seemed responsible for security, was keeping an eye out as Queegerts and packages were loaded. He spotted Arlene but continued scanning with two eyes, and the top eye wasn’t paying any attention to her at all.

  “Greetings,” she called politely. “I have a meeting with Master Gilmurry.” She smiled. She’d done her homework on the proper address.