Karl von Reiss walked into the corridor, his steps light for once. Kol Volkov was already gone. According to the plan, he should now be on his way toward Gemini to pick up “the cargo.” Which meant it was time for a little business discussion with Marcus Drake.
Same place as last time—Drake was waiting for him.
“Please, sit down, my friend, Mister von Reiss. I imagine you’re here today to talk about the payment arrangements for that shipment, aren’t you?”
“Mr. Drake, I know I shouldn’t be bothering you again. The help you gave me last time meant a great deal to me. Originally, I was supposed to pay for this shipment in full, half in advance. But right now the military simply can’t scrape together that kind of money. I was wondering if there’s any way we could delay it a few days, let me move the goods first, and then settle with you afterward. Of course, I’ll cover the interest for those days.”
As von Reiss spoke, he kept his head down, as if he didn’t dare meet the man across the table.
“Haha.”
Drake laughed, stood up, walked around the table, and patted Karl on the right shoulder.
“Mister von Reiss, I think you may have misunderstood something about me. I’m a great lover of solving other people’s little problems. It’s just that, occasionally, I might also ask you to do a small favor in return. I wonder if you’d be willing?”
“I… don’t know, Mr. Drake. What exactly do you need my help with?”
Karl lifted his head to look at Drake, fear and caution written plainly in his eyes. Drake held his gaze for a moment, then lightly tapped the back of Karl’s right hand.
“You understand, in business I often help certain people—and in doing so, I inevitably offend others. I was hoping you might help me resolve some of those… inconveniences.”
“Mr. Drake, with your status, getting rid of one or two people shouldn’t really be a problem, should it?” Karl asked, still watching him carefully.
“Yes, if I chose to handle it personally, it would be very easy. But if word ever got out, it might affect your dealings with me, and mine with you.”
As he finished speaking, the tall man standing beside him placed a photo down in front of Karl.
Dante Moretti.
The man in the photo had broad cheekbones and a close-cropped head. His gaze was dark and cold, a pair of brown eyes staring straight out at Karl.
A bead of sweat slid down Karl’s forehead.
The young lord of the underground kingdom at the Hades Rim.
Because of a series of under-the-table deals with the Ashen Protectorate of Lethe’s military, the entire scandal had been dragged into the light at a court-martial by Brenner, and gossip had spread like wildfire across several worlds. To calm things down, the top brass had ordered a full investigation into the corruption case. A year ago, Moretti had been secretly captured by a special forces unit. To secure him, they’d paid the price of two whole companies of operators.
That incident was one of the reasons why Admiral Brenner was later assigned to supervise the entire trip on the prisoner transport ship. High command wanted Brenner to cut a deal with the underground kingdom at the Hades Rim, force them to pay dearly for this man’s release. At the same time, the message from above had been very clear:
You lit this fire, Brenner.
You put it out.
What Karl had never expected was that this man had business conflicts with Drake as well. Whether it was Drake or Moretti, both of them wanted that same black-market throne.
And now Drake wanted Karl to “fix” this problem for him.
How? Kill Dante Moretti?
If he actually pulled that trigger, Volkov wouldn’t even have time to bring back the weapons and the “Elysium Echo” before Karl himself went straight to hell.
“Mister von Reiss, your sister is still receiving the finest treatment in my private hospital. As for the goods you wanted, I’ve already dispatched people toward the rendezvous. You’ve asked for my help, and I’ve never once refused you.”
Drake smiled as he looked at Karl.
“I… I know, Mr. Drake. I won’t forget all you’ve done for me.”
Karl swallowed hard. After a long silence, he finally said, “I’ll fulfill your wish. But I’ll need some time.”
“No problem, my friend.”
Drake stood and walked to Karl’s side again, gently patting the back of his right hand twice. Then he handed him a small data drive.
“His file is in here. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of opportunities. Before we reach the Hades Rim, I hope I’ll still be your best business partner.”
Karl’s stiff body finally obeyed his will and rose to its feet. He took a deep breath, then turned toward Drake.
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“As you wish, sir.”
As Karl dipped his head, the amulet that Drake always wore pinned to his chest flickered with a faint golden light. In Karl’s mind, a pair of deep violet irises flashed—Annie’s eyes.
Back in his own quarters, Karl didn’t open the drive.
He sat down at his desk and stared at the gyroscope lying on it for a long time.
To survive between the jaws of these crocodiles of power and capital, he was no more than a lamb. Brenner, Drake, Moretti—every one of them was a predator eyeing him, ready to bare their fangs and tear him to pieces at any moment.
Don’t panic. Stay calm. Breathe. Calm down.
Karl thought of the chief of security, Victor Slade—a man gifted at reading people. He couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, but if that secret involved him directly, Karl suspected he would know exactly which choice to make.
He sent Slade a message.
The reply came almost immediately: on my way.
Karl found a seat in the cafeteria and waited.
He rehearsed a dozen different approaches in his mind:
Victor, you’re a man with real potential. I’d like to see you move up the ladder.
Slade, you know as well as I do—no one reaches the upper ranks of the military without something big on their record. You won’t get what you want just sitting here.
Slade…
One by one, he rejected them all.
When you try to talk someone into doing something, and their gift of the gab is better than yours, that’s how you turn yourself into a joke.
Victor Slade soon came into the cafeteria and spotted Karl.
His skin was pale, his ever-present smile too bright. Seeing Karl, he stepped forward and held out a hand with an almost exaggerated enthusiasm. Karl shook it—firm, warm, but never crossing the line into aggression. As their hands met, Slade’s other hand quickly folded over the back of Karl’s right hand, enclosing it.
“I don’t know what the lieutenant wanted to see me about,” Slade said lightly, signaling the server for two cups of coffee. He tore open a creamer packet and emptied it into his own.
The other cup he left black, placing it in front of Karl on his left.
“You know I drink my coffee straight?” Karl asked.
“I’ve been following you for a few years now, sir. It’s the first time we’ve come here together, but I’ve gotten to know your personal habits fairly well.”
Slade’s expression was relaxed and open. It was hard to truly dislike this man, even knowing he had his little issues. Whatever had held him back from promotion to captain, it certainly wasn’t his popularity—only his lack of formal education.
Karl said nothing at first. He just looked at him. Slade, understanding him a little too well, didn’t pry. He simply stirred his own coffee slowly.
At last, Karl made up his mind.
He pushed the data drive across the table.
“Get this to Dante Moretti. If he asks where it came from, tell him it was from me. If he wants to meet with me, you relay the message back. Are you willing to go?”
The spoon stopped. Slade looked up at Karl.
After a few seconds, he picked up the drive and slipped it calmly into his pocket. He said nothing more. He simply raised his cup to Karl in a small salute and took a sip.
That night, in Cell 99 on Dante Moretti’s deck, Slade delivered the drive. Moretti opened it right in front of him, scanning through the contents.
Then he turned his head.
“Who gave this to you?”
“Major Karl von Reiss.”
Moretti’s eyes narrowed. After a moment, he said, “In a little while, I’ll see him in the storage room on Deck Four.”
When Karl received the message, he sat in silence for a while and sent one more to Slade.
“When I meet Moretti, would you be willing to come with me?”
There was a pause, then Slade’s reply came through. Karl shut off the comm.
“Karl, there’s a seventy-eight percent chance this will blow up in your face.”
“Mother, if I don’t choose to work with Dante Moretti, my odds of failure here are over ninety percent anyway. I have no idea whether Volkov will be able to wipe out all of Drake’s people waiting at the drop. This is the only way I buy enough breathing room to snatch a sliver of life from between these crocodiles’ teeth. They’re like those wild beasts in the old movies I watched—every day they devour one another or get devoured, all just to stay alive.”
“If Victor Slade hands that drive to Drake instead, you could be looking at very serious consequences.”
“Mother, you may be an AI, but I’ve never hidden my heart from you. Slade is a smart man. If he turns the drive over to Drake, Drake will assume I’m trying to have Dante Moretti killed. For Slade’s career, that would be catastrophic. And what would he get in return? He’s a commoner; his education isn’t great. Maybe he’d get a pat on the head and a temporary reward, but sooner or later Drake would claw that back as easily as he gave it. Who would trust a man who betrays his own commanding officer, unless no one ever replaces that officer? How would anyone dare to use him?”
“Then what’s in it for him if he goes along with your plan? Most people don’t do something unless they see a benefit.”
“You’re right, Mother. But there’s one thing you’re not accounting for. There’s no direct downside to going with me. However, it turns out that it won’t immediately harm him. He’s a clever man. That’s enough.”
There was a brief silence.
“Karl, you still ought to make some preparations.”
“I will, Mother. I still have a sister to take care of, after all.”
Deck Four, storage room.
Slade stood at the entrance, his terminal blocking the security feed from that stretch of corridor. That was one of his privileges as chief of security.
Dante Moretti walked in with two men at his back.
“Karl von Reiss,” he said, “I know you’re working with Drake. What I don’t understand is why you’d hand this drive to me. If anything happens to me, Drake’s a man who keeps his promises to you.”
“Yes. On that point, I won’t argue. But if your loved ones are in his hands, how long do you think that kind of promise stays good?”
Moretti studied him. Karl stared right back.
“You’re not worried I’ll tell Drake about all this?” Moretti asked slowly.
“If there can only be one king in the underworld, then choosing to do that proves you don’t deserve the throne.”
Karl answered him with a smile.
Dante Moretti’s dark brown pupils contracted sharply for a beat, then slowly relaxed. That cold, cadaverous appraisal—like a butcher pricing a corpse—faded from his eyes, replaced by something else: the look of a man who’s just realized someone might be either insane, or a kindred spirit.
“What’s your plan?”
Karl stepped forward, leaned in close to Moretti’s ear, and lowered his voice until only the two of them—and Slade at the door jamming the cameras—could hear.
As he whispered, the wry amusement drained from Moretti’s face, replaced by a kind of rigid shock. A few seconds later, the heir of the underground kingdom was reassessing the young major standing before him as if seeing him for the first time.
“Karl von Reiss…” Moretti said at last, very softly. “You’re even crazier than I thought. If this falls apart, you’ll die worse than I ever will.”
“We’re both already in hell, Mr. Moretti.”
Karl straightened his collar and turned toward the door.
“The only difference is, I’d like to climb up and see the view.”
The light in the storage room flickered once and went out.
Erberus-7
Vera Costa rode the Echo Messenger down through the thick sulfuric clouds of the gray dead star.
Several unmanned combat drones rushed up to intercept as the shuttle cut through the sky. Only after they authenticated the ship’s ID code did they peel away.
Once Echo Messenger passed through the city’s protective shield, it set down in the central air-traffic hub.
She and four men disembarked, splitting into two separate skimmers that shot off toward the tallest hotel tower in the city.
(End of Chapter 126)
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