Purge of Prometheus (5 page)

Cerise’s voice carried smoothly over the radio.
 
“That’s a good copy.
 
Talon Base will be expecting radio silence for incoming signals.”

“Talon Six out,” Keryn finished her transmission, once again concealing the radio under her jacket collar.
 
She turned back to the other two members of her assault team.

“Remember,” she said, “stealth is the key.
 
Make yourself inconspicuous.”

“Stealth,” they both replied in unison.

Stepping out of the foliage, Keryn and her team slipped past the large stone buildings that marked the beginning of the city.
 
Miller’s Glen sprawled like a miniature metropolis; its stone buildings quickly gave way to the metal and glass structures that jutted from the center of the city in progressively taller and larger buildings.
 
To Keryn, they looked like demons clawing over one another on their way out of hell; their metal spires rose like hands reaching in vain toward the emerald sky.
 
The skies above the city were full of recreational crafts, flying in a carefully orchestrated three-dimensional overlay of airways.

The entire city encompassed no more than two square miles, but the inhabitants packed as much activity into such a small space a possible.
 
Market stalls spread down the narrow streets as merchants hawked their wares.
 
Fabrics from all corners of the known universe stood proudly beside exotic fruits from distant home worlds.
 
Illegal Terran technology was brazenly displayed on the streets by sellers who had little to fear from Interstellar Alliance police forces; the police forces were rarely seen on planets so far removed from commonly traveled space.
 

Miller’s Glen had been founded as a melting pot of races interested in interspecies trade.
 
Merchants arrived in an amalgamation of ships, each representative of their home worlds and unique physiology.
 
After clearing away a patch of jungle, they established a trading village that catered not just to the legitimate merchants but to black market salesmen and smugglers.
 
What began as a small trader’s haven quickly grew as travelers near the Demilitarized Zone began spreading word of the potential wares available in the small jungle city.
 
The more the money flowed freely through the streets of Miller’s Glen, the larger the established stores.
 
Street stalls were moved into one story stone buildings; one story stone buildings were moved into glistening towers of metal and glass; and those in the glistening towers cared less and less about the quality of inhabitants living in the streets below.
 
The town, in essence, became the perfect hiding place for a traitorous smuggler like Cardax.

“Give me an update,” Keryn said, smiling broadly as merchants flashed their wares from their street stalls.

Adam glanced around, as though deciding what to buy from the nearby tradesmen.
 
“Majority of the populace is armed.
 
It appears that there are bodyguards located at the entrance to most storefronts.
 
Any frontal assaults here are suicidal.
 
Stealth will have to be the word of the day.”
 
Adam grimaced at his own recommendation.

“Penchant?”
 
Keryn prodded the Lithid for his input.

Penchant stared at the hypnotic dance of the small craft flittering overhead.
 
Above them, his faux blue eyes narrowing to see past the smaller ships, he could see the larger merchant vessels floating toward the far side of town like bloated insects.

“The spaceport is located on the far side of town,” his coarse voice seemed out of place on his smooth Terran exterior.
 
“We can assume that Cardax landed there.
 
He wouldn’t travel far from his ship, knowing that he’s being pursued.
 
There are a couple bars and hotels in that area that would cater to Cardax’s tastes.”

Keryn nodded in agreement and led her team through the densely packed streets.
 
They left the flowing shorter stone structures and entered into the cavernous streets of the financial section of town.
 
Though the large buildings blocked the sun, green light filtered down the street, reflected over and over again on the glass exteriors.
 
Here, the flamboyantly dressed merchants gave way to smartly dressed management.
 
The inhabitants of the center of the city consisted of those who had once found themselves hawking wares on the street corners, but had turned a simple stall into a financial empire.
 
Their trade goods were seen across countless worlds and they each had thousands of employees.
 
Some were legitimate businessmen; some no better than mob bosses ruling a business empire by fear and violence.
 
Keryn often had trouble differentiating between the two.

Eventually, the trio found themselves exiting the financial district and were surrounded by the prefabricated buildings and housing subdivisions of those who called Miller’s Glen home.
 
The spaceport dominated the far end of town; a massive steel tower with spiraling arms, each firmly attached to a merchant vessel, space yacht, or in some cases personal warships, their sides rippling with armaments.
 
Despite having Alliance Cruisers in orbit, those in Miller’s Glen knew that they were a façade of security and unlikely to engage any merchant, legal or not, entering the city.
 

Though this part of the city consisted mainly of residential neighborhoods, Keryn and her crew were unable to escape the constant vendors that created the basis of Miller’s Glen.
 
Glancing at the other two, Keryn noticed the stern looks and darting eyes, true signs of hunters on the prowl.

“You both look like you’re on a mission,” she said coyly.

Penchant tilted his head to the side in a remarkably Lithid movement.
 
“We
are
on a mission, Keryn,” he said.

Keryn laughed.
 
“That’s my point.
 
You’re not supposed to
look
like you’re on a mission while on a mission.
 
Stealth is wasted if every person we pass thinks you’re up to something illegal or immoral.”
 
She waved her arm around, drawing their attention to the numerous merchant booths.
 
“Take a moment to look around and peruse the trade goods.
 
It’ll make you look a little more natural in Miller’s Glen.
 
Buy something, so people think you’re supposed to be here.”

Begrudgingly, the trio split up and started looking at some of the nearby booths.
 
Watching over her shoulder, Keryn laughed as she saw Penchant stiffly pick up a silk scarf, rolling the fabric between his fingers.
 
For a race who had mastered the techniques of infiltration and mimicry, the Lithids still had a long way to go when it came to social graces.

As Keryn turned back to her own booth, Adam slid up beside her.
 
Absently picking up one of the large, circular metallic plates that the vendor was selling, his attention remained on her.

“A fine plate,” the vendor began, spinning his sales pitch.
 
He leaned across the table as he continued.
 
“Made from some of the finest metals in the known universe.
 
Very rare.
 
Very rare, indeed.
 
It would make a great addition to an existing collection or a great start for a young entrepreneur like yourself.”
 
The merchant looked back and forth at the two customers.
 
“Or, perhaps, it would make a beautiful gift for the beautiful lady?”

Smiling, Keryn took the plate from Adam’s hands, admiring her own reflection in the shining metal.

“What do you think, honey,” she purred.
 
“Is this beautiful plate worthy of such a beautiful woman?”

She turned the plate in her hand, watching the viridian sky reflected off the plate.
 
The plate froze in mid turn, however, when Keryn noticed a dangerously familiar reflection caught on the metal surface.
 
The massive Oterian frame that pushed its way through the crowd behind the pair was unmistakable.
 
The over eight-foot frame, shrouded in dark brown fur, was capped with hooked horns that bent forward.

“You will buy it for me?” she exclaimed, improvising cool serenity to quell her momentary panic.
 
Smiling broadly, she threw her arms around Adam’s broad shoulders and pulled his head into her neck.
 
With a flip of her head, her silver hair cascaded over his face.
 
Burying her own face in his strong throat, she effectively hid both their identities from those passing close by.
 
Adam, well trained to respond to unusual situation, wisely remained silent.

“Cardax is here,” she whispered as the smuggler walked obliviously past the duo, “passing within a few feet of us.”

“Should we take him now,” he inquired.
 
She felt the arm not around her thin waist shift to the weapon hidden beneath his coat.

Keryn shook her head slowly in the crook of his neck.
 
“Now is not the time.
 
Just observe his movements.
 
We’ll want to engage him when it’s not quite so public.”
 
She snuggled closer against his body.
 
“Remember: stealth.”

Adam shifted until his eyes were able to glance from under the waves of her thick hair.
 
Cardax and his guards, all of whom were significantly shorter than the smuggler himself, walked quickly through the crowd.
 
Few people stood in their way, most making way for the massive Oterian.
 
For those who did not move quickly enough, Adam watched as Cardax’s brown fur bristled with anger before his meaty hands shoved helpless bystanders into nearby carts and stalls.

Two blocks past where Adam and Keryn shared their warm embrace, Cardax and his crew entered a two story structure, accentuated with glowing neon lights.
 
With danger now passed, Keryn pulled away from her teammate and turned to look up the street.
 
Feeling a gentle tap on his shoulder, Adam spun tensely toward the stall.
 
Startled, the merchant pointed at the plate still clutched in Keryn’s hand.

“So you decided to buy her the plate?” the merchant asked hopefully.

Keryn glanced down at the shiny metallic plate.
 
Shrugging, she tossed it to the merchant, who fumbled as he tried to catch the quickly spinning metal.
 
Finally clutching it tightly to his chest, the vendor released a sigh and set the plate onto the table.
 
He glanced furiously at Keryn.

“We changed our minds,” she said.
 
“But I’ll give you a ten-piece note if you tell me what business that is about two blocks up.”
 
She pointed at the neon-encased building that Cardax had entered.

He started to respond rudely, but thought better when he noticed the dangerous look he was receiving from Adam.
 
“It’s the Black Void.
 
It’s a bar.”

Keryn looked across the street to where a bearded Terran still examined the local fabrics.
 
“Penchant,” she yelled, getting his attention.
 
“Find us a place to stay while we’re here.”

Adam and Keryn exchanged glances.
 
“So what now?” he asked.

“Now, I think it’s about time you bought me a drink, honey,” she said with a sickly sweetness.
 
They stepped away from the booth and began heading up the street.
 

“What about my money?” the merchant yelled behind them.

Adam glanced over his shoulder.
 
“We changed our minds about that too!”

CHAPTER 5:

Keryn and Adam slipped into the Black Void, allowing the door to stay open only briefly in order to minimize the amount of bright light that flooded into the dark bar.
 
Their silhouettes were gone from the doorway before most patrons registered that the door had been opened.

Thick, acrid smoke hung like curtains within the Black Void and a mixture of voices and languages overwhelmed the senses.
 
The center of the room housed an assortment of tables and stools, some crafted to support the physiology of the more rare races.
 
A large crescent bar dominated the back wall, with an assortment of alcoholic beverages as wide-ranging as the clientele of the Void.
 
Keryn and Adam, however, pushed their way through the crowd and found seats in the booths that lined both side walls.
 
The tall backs of the benches and taller dividing walls allowed privacy while also minimizing background noise enough that they could hold a conversation.
 
The benches were as much a statement of life in Miller’s Glen as the armed bodyguards that lined the street.
 
The tall backs had been built to allow privacy from prying eyes and probing intrusions during immoral practices and illegal transactions, allowing dark dealings to take place in so public an arena.