Horizon Down (Galaxy Mavericks Book 9) Read online

  “The Rah Accord is going to fall through,” he continued. “The way the Arguses have been acting, it’s clear that they won’t be reluctant allies any longer. And the Zachary Empire—don’t get me started on them. They’re absolutely terrible people who will stop at nothing to conquer what they want. And now—I’ve heard—that there are planet-eating aliens in our galaxy. We’re surrounded on all sides, and all we have to defend ourselves is a silly little accord that means nothing.”

  He pointed to a window. “The Rah Accord is no longer relevant in our society. It won’t protect us. It will only get us killed. The future requires bold, drastic action, and we can’t rely on our galaxy government to act properly.”

  He grinned.

  “The future lies in defense.”

  Several gasps spread across the room.

  “I know that it sounds odd,” Florian said. “We are a real estate company, after all.”

  He strolled and stopped at Aromdee’s chair, resting his hands on her chair.

  “We help people buy the properties of their dreams,” Florian said, “but what have we done to help them protect their investments? We sell planets across this galaxy, but we don’t sell peace of mind. Shouldn’t someone move onto a new planet and know that they will be able to defend themselves if the situation arises? We have failed our customers, ladies and gentlemen, and as we move into what looks to be a militarized period of our history, this is a business opportunity, one that will pay more than dividends. It will create jobs, instill public trust, and keep us safe. And above all, it syncs with our existing products and services.”

  “Florian, I’m cutting this short,” Annaliese said. She turned to the board. “No one in this room seriously believes that the future lies in defense.”

  “With much love and respect, auntie,” Florian said, “what just happened today will happen again. And if we piss off the wrong enemy next, we won’t be able to rely on their good graces.”

  “We will deliberate on this,” Aromdee said. “But I won’t deny that this has become an emerging issue overnight.”

  “That is all I ask,” Florian said. “I’m looking into the future. If we are to survive as a company—as a human race—Macalestern must play a critical part in the defense industry.”

  Annaliese puffed.

  “Thank you for the consideration,” Florian said. “If you choose not to explore my suggestion, I completely understand. Just tell me and I will journey off in search of a new venture…”

  “Your abundant ideas are an asset to the company,” Aromdee said. “That will be all.”

  Florian nodded to the board and left the room.

  Annaliese followed him, slamming the door.

  “What was that all about?” she asked.

  “Auntie,” Florian said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry I had to do that to you. But I had no choice.”

  “It’s absurd,” she said.

  “Maybe. But maybe it’s not?”

  She sighed. “It’s just the wrong time. The board is too reactive right now. I fear they will overcorrect due to what happened today.”

  “They’re too wise,” Florian said. “I trust that they’ll make a level-headed decision, even if it’s at my expense.”

  Annaliese gave him an angry look.

  “What happened to you?” she asked. “You’re not the same.”

  “Of course I’m the same, auntie,” Florian said.

  “The nephew I know would never overturn me in a meeting,” she said.

  “I’m fighting for CEO,” Florian said. “So sorry if there’s some damage. You would do the same thing.”

  Annaliese paused.

  Florian hugged her.

  “I said I’m sorry, auntie,” he said. “But I can’t apologize any more.”

  Annaliese reluctantly hugged him back.

  “I suppose I’m not going to be CEO much longer,” she said. “But I’m still your aunt.”

  “Absolutely,” Florian said.

  “Let’s put business aside,” she said. “Let’s go to dinner.”

  Florian frowned.

  “I can’t. Press conference. And then I’ve got to travel.”

  Annaliese looked hurt.

  “I’ll be back, and there’ll be plenty of time,” Florian said, kissing his aunt on the cheek.

  The press had gathered at the end of the hallway and were waiting for him.

  He waved.

  “Be over in a minute, gentle people,” he said. Then he turned to his aunt. “You going to be okay? Need anything?”

  Annaliese shook her head.

  “I’m fine…”

  “Good,” he said. “Be back.”

  He left her standing in the hallway, and he jogged down the hallway to meet the press.

  16

  Devika brought the warship down into a slow and steady landing on the living platform. As she landed, she spotted a blue corsair lying on its side in the middle of Mad Dog’s yard. The ship’s wings were burnt, and the hull had minor damage.

  Something about the body shop yard seemed off. Like there should have been grass or asphalt. Instead, the ground was a metal grille, with water sloshing far below.

  Devika hadn't gotten used to Macalestern, the fact that everywhere she went she was literally standing over an ocean. And it was always raining.

  She grabbed her umbrella and took a final look at the damaged ship.

  Sorry sight.

  She hoped that wasn't Grayson and Eddie’s ship.

  “I'll bet any of you a latte that that corsair is Grayson’s,” Keltie said.

  Michiko giggled. “No way. It's gotta be that one over there.”

  She pointed to a crumpled-up ship in the corner of the lot. Definitely a burned-up, unsalvageable total loss.

  “Geez, I was just trying to have some fun,” Keltie said. “You're wishing death on them now all of a sudden.”

  Michiko stopped and put her hands to her mouth.

  “Oh my God, I am, aren't I?” she gasped. “I take it back. I take it all back.”

  “It’s just an innocent bet,” Devika said, cutting the engine and unclicking her seatbelt.

  She rose and stretched.

  Felt good to stand up and roam around. It would feel even better to smell real air. Salty, briny, humid air.

  “Let’s go give them a little trouble and then find a place to rest, shall we?” Devika said.

  Eddie and Grayson waited for the women as they walked down the bay doors carrying umbrellas.

  Grayson and Eddie both wore hoodies. The rain had soaked through them.

  Eddie carried a plastic cup with a straw. He slurped and scraped the inside of the cup with the straw, trying to suck out the last of what looked to be hot chocolate or coffee.

  “Welcome to my office,” Grayson said. “Good to see you ladies. We were—”

  Keltie hushed him.

  “Okay, so we made a bet at your expense,” she said. “Hope you don't mind.”

  “Bet?” Grayson asked. “We don't get a ‘glad to see you, too?’”

  “Which one?” Keltie asked.

  “Huh?”

  “Which one?” Keltie asked again.

  “One what?” Eddie asked. “I don't follow.”

  Keltie pointed to the two ships in the yard. “Which one?” she asked.

  “Aw, come on,” Grayson said. “You made a bet over that?”

  “I've got a latte and a reputation on the line,” Keltie said. “Tell us.”

  Grayson looked down and away.

  “Go ahead, Eddie,” he said. “Tell ‘em.”

  “Why me?” Eddie asked. “I'm trying to enjoy this hot chocolate here. She asked you the question.”

  “Come on and answer the question already, man,” Grayson said.

  But Eddie out the straw in his mouth and made a sucking sound.

  Keltie folded her arms and stared at Grayson for what seemed like forever.

  “That one,” Grayson said,
scratching behind his ear.

  Keltie leaned forward. “Couldn't hear you…”

  “That one over there,” Grayson mumbled.

  “You're making this awkward,” Keltie said.

  “It's the blue corsair over there, all right?” Grayson said, raising his voice.

  “Rats!” Michiko said, snapping her fingers.

  “Yes!” Keltie said, pumping her first. “You owe me an earl grey latte.”

  “Not fair!” Michiko said. “Where in the galaxy am I going to find an earl grey latte?”

  “Doesn't have to be today,” Keltie said, winking. “But I like my lattes sugary sweet.”

  Michiko sighed playfully.

  “Ha ha ha,” Grayson said sarcastically.

  “All joking aside,” Devika said, “it is good to see you two alive.”

  “Likewise,” Grayson said. “Our ship’s in the process of getting fixed. How'd everything go at Gargantua?”

  “Pretty terrible,” Devika said. “But we ended up okay.”

  “So,” Michiko asked. “What do we do now?”

  “You guys haven't seen the news, I assume,” Grayson said.

  “What news?” Keltie asked.

  They entered the airlock of the warship and gathered around a television mounted on the wall. On it, Florian gave a press conference and explained the Argus conflict.

  Keltie’s jaw dropped.

  “Why is he on TV?” she asked. “And why are they hailing him as a hero?”

  “Sounds fishy to me,” Grayson said. “Real fishy. There was an entire Argus fleet here. And then Florian goes and sweet talks then into leaving? Come on, man. Nobody can do that.”

  “He either scared them or made them a deal,” Devika said. “Just like he did with Miloschenko.”

  “Where is that conference?” Michiko asked. “Is he here on Macalestern?”

  On the screen, Florian clenched a fist. “We've got to do a better job of protecting our citizens,” he said. “We were lucky, but we’re not going to be so lucky next time.”

  “Yep, he's here,” Keltie said.

  “Then our jobs just got easier,” Devika said. “Keltie, can you get us into the Macalestern Headquarters?”

  Keltie’s jaw dropped.

  “I can, but—”

  “You're still employed, right?” Devika asked, sensing the hesitation.

  “I am, but—”

  “Then it’s simple,” Devika said. “You’ll use your card, grant us access. There must be an executive wing, right? That has to be where his office is located. We’ll arrest him and put a stop to all of this.”

  “You make it sound so simple,” Eddie said. “Do you think it's really going to be so simple?”

  “We've got to try,” Devika said. “We’ll never have such a clear chance.”

  Keltie sighed. “Fine. But let me just say for the record that—”

  Devika turned and walked toward the bridge.

  “Time to go back to work,” she said.

  17

  “Announcing The Emperess!”

  As Ren walked into the golden ballroom, an entire crowd of people stood. And bowed.

  She stood on a balcony, with Dyne in the shadows. She waved.

  “Hold your pose,” Dyne said.

  Ren paused, faking the best smile she could.

  The bright lights nearly blinded her. For the last several hours, her entourage paraded her around the city, forcing her to address soldiers, citizens, and now, aristocrats. She just wanted to rest, close her eyes and hope she never woke up.

  Her cheeks. God, they were so sore from the tattoos and all the smiling. The leather boots she wore pained her ankles, and she was constantly sweating from the heavy robes. Her staff had to refresh her every hour.

  She still couldn't believe that she was the most powerful person in the Zachary Galaxy. It just didn't seem right.

  The crowd cheered wildly. Only now did she see the room for what it was—too lavish. Golden curtains hung from the walls, sparkling silver chandeliers glinted from the ceiling, and sullen-faced servers moved about the room, carrying drinks and food trays. And all around, the members of the hive, dressed in tuxedos, their eyes bright in the candlelit room. They wore masks, the Zachary custom that suppressed the self and allowed one to live completely in the moment.

  She left the balcony and walked behind the stage.

  “It's time to make some rounds,” Dyne said.

  She was sick of Dyne, too, ordering her around and resorting to threats when she didn't listen. But she was grateful for him at the same time, because he helped her navigate the madness.

  He handed her an earpiece.

  “What's this?” she asked.

  “You don't know anyone out there,” he said. His armor glowed in the darkness and his orange visor shaded his eyes. “I'll help you. But you better listen.”

  He attached the earpiece. Then she spoke a test sentence. She heard his voice in duplicate—his true voice, and another, mechanical replication inside her ear. It made her shudder.

  “I'll stand on the balcony,” he said. “You’ll have a group of body guards.”

  The tingling smell of fried food drifted behind stage. She imagined fried fish, just like her hive mother used to make. Her stomach rumbled and her mouth watered.

  “Don't worry,” Dyne said, “you get to eat first.”

  She sighed with relief. She steeled herself for the interactions ahead.

  “Now,” Dyne said. “Make your entrance.”

  Ren joined a group of guards and followed them onto the ballroom floor. A small applause rippled through the room as the hive realized she had entered the floor.

  A woman in a gray suit approached. Her black hair was cropped into a buzz cut. She had a mole on her left cheek, and she was short and stocky.

  “That's Lissa Grubeck,” Dyne said, his voice buzzing in her ear. “She's Tavin Miloschenko’s replacement.”

  “Who's Tavin Miloschenko?”

  “Former head of the science and weapons division,” Dyne said. “She'll be your most important relationship.”

  Lissa bowed.

  “Your Highness, it is my pleasure,” she said.

  “You may rise,” Dyne said roughly.

  “You may…rise,” Ren said.

  Lissa rose, her dull gray eyes staring square at Ren. Unlike the other citizens and soldiers, this woman was different. Staring into her eyes was like staring into her soul. She didn't have one.

  “Those who emerge into the science and weapons division retain a certain sense of self,” Dyne whispered. “It's needed for what they do. Don't be alarmed.”

  “I trust that your transition has been easy,” Lissa said.

  “I wouldn't call it easy,” Ren said.

  “Ah. I suppose there are worse things an Emperess must worry about.”

  Dyne made a buzzing sound. “Tell her I worry about all things in the empire.”

  “What?” Ren asked. But then she recovered, and repeated Dyne’s words.

  “You are under the spell of your advisor, no doubt,” Lissa said, a sly smile creeping across her face.

  Ren stuttered.

  “It's okay,” Lissa said, tugging her ear, as if there were an earpiece there. “Miloschenko invented the technology.”

  “I have never met him, but he must have been an indispensable part of our empire,” Dyne said.

  Ren repeated the sentence.

  “Perhaps I, too, will be like him,” Lissa said. The two of them turned and faced the crowd.

  “We are all but replacements in the hive,” Lissa said. “I die, I am replaced. You die, you are replaced. Life simply continues here, no pretension about it, just an evolved society striving together for a common goal.”

  “And what…what is the goal?” Ren asked suddenly.

  “Shut up!” Dyne said. “You don't talk unless I do!”

  “Off script!” Lissa said, wagging her finger. “That's not becoming of an Emperess. Oh, I am ju
st joking, Your Highness. It is independent thinking that we ultimately need. An independent thinker to lead the hive, make a decision upon which the rest of the millions will follow…”

  Lissa grabbed her arm.

  “Surely you feel it,” the woman said, her eyes bright in the chandelier light. “Surely you feel the power of the hive buzzing through you.”

  “Y-Yes,” Ren lied. “I-I do.”

  Lissa frowned. “You lie.”

  “I-I do?”

  Lissa snatched the earpiece from her ear.

  “There is no power,” Lissa said. “There is no divine presence.”

  She crunched the earpiece under her boot, turning it into plastic, wire and ground glass.

  “There is only the lonely desolation,” Lissa said. “The desolation of knowing that we are alone. That we are the only species of human in the universe that is on this path. We are evolved, Your Highness, but never allow those in your inner chamber to make you more than you truly are—a member of our society. An important one, but easily replaced.”

  A commotion drew Ren’s eye to the balcony. Dyne had come out of the shadows and was standing on the balcony with his arms folded.

  Lissa waved to him, then motioned for him to come down.

  “I cannot afford to wait for them to train you,” Lissa said. “I'll teach you everything you need to know, and I'll teach you immediately.”

  “Not appropriate,” Dyne said, approaching.

  Lissa turned and walked behind a nearby curtain. Ren and Dyne followed, the security detail guarding them.

  “Florian Macalestern must be stopped,” Lissa said.

  “Who is that?” Ren asked.

  “A scoundrel in the Rah Galaxy,” Lissa said. “That's all you need to know.”

  Ren imagined an evil, hulking man, the kind she saw in comics—sinister eyes, big muscles, an evil grin.

  “The Rah Galaxy is an enemy,” Lissa said. “We've tolerated them for the last few decades. And we have abided by the Rah Accord. But that needs to stop.”

  “But why?” Ren asked.

  “They are not us,” Lissa said. “They will not submit.”

  “But—”

  “Our only ally is an unlikely one,” Lissa said.

  “Who?” Dyne asked. “Wait a minute. Hold on. You don't mean—”