There is in fact a great deal of noise in space, and those who can hear it effortlessly cling to the quiet sounds carried by air for relief.

Holloway came back from the bar with a spring in his step, standing a little too close for Sam’s comfort. Outside the window the newly constructed warships huddled like insects protecting their queen.

“The years are a thousand,” said Holloway.

“Seven,” said Sam.

“What?”

“What are you referring to?”

Holloway turned his head toward Sam and scrunched his face indignantly. “I was quoting a poem. What the crap were you talking about?”

“Nothing. What more can you tell me of this new job?”

“Not much just yet, except that it’s personal.”

“Personal?”

“That’s right. A little favor for me. And don’t worry, I won’t get you into any trouble with the general. I just got a math problem I need help with is all.”

Sam shook his head. He’d grown weary of Terran axioms and colloquialisms. “As long as I’m paid.”

Holloway scoffed. “You don’t care about money. There ain’t nuthin’ on this ship you can’t afford that a guy like you would want anyway.”

“I still want payment.”

“Keep your boxers off your head, son. You’ll get paid. But more importantly, you’ll have sumtn’ to do till the general needs you again.”

Sam sighed. “I do get bored here.”

“Don’t your people still need lawmen?”

“They’ve submitted fully to Albion’s administration.”

“They?”

Sam was quiet, and to his relief so was Holloway. Until, that is, a group of refugees, recently arrived, came behind a human guide and filled the air with astonished whispers. The guide told them the basic specs of the various ship classes swarming outside. Holloway chose that moment to get chatty.

“There could be a tussle. I’ll have you hiding. They’ll do a scan which won’t catch you. Well, it shouldn’t. Folks have gotten wise to your kind and are working on ways of detecting you. But I don’t think they have yet. You should be fine.”

“I assume this is some sort of exchange?”

“Sorta. More a conversation.” Holloway discreetly looked over his shoulder. “How familiar are you with the Sentinels?”

“The robotic soldiers? They’re almost as legendary a fighting force as the Harbingers.”

Holloway nodded. “Can’t argue with that. But they wear a few more hats than that when they’re at home. Here, this has the layout of where we’ll be. You know? Screw it. Forget the hiding. There’s no point. Folks have seen us together by now. And they know you’ve worked for Sensus. Tell you what. We’ll throw ‘em off. You’ll be by my side the whole time. You okay with that?”

Sam had to think. His whole life had been a pursuit of violence. Hunting and slaying, and the sadness of the conqueror after each succsessful kill. Was he ready to go back to that?

“This won’t be anything like what you did back home. Honestly, this is beneath you. More what you did with the proffessor. I’m trying to get you real work. But for now...”

“It beats sitting around watching movies.”

“Not much of a film buff, eh? Tell you what, let’s get this done, and I’ll change that.”

“I don’t despise cinema. Yours is just a little simplistic for my taste.”

“What you been watchin’? That current crap?”

Sam shrugged. “A musical about endo-exo romance. A drama about a colony transport becoming sentient and thinking the colonists were her larva…”

“No, no, no. That’s your problem. The Pre-Fall stuff’s where it’s at. I got one for ya. Trust me.”

“You’re providing the whiskey.”

“You betcha, hoss. Allright, let’s head there now.”

From there they made a roundabout path to the nexus of quiet hallways where the meeting was planned. Sam had seen Holloway work in earnest, so this seemed more a courtesy to the other party than an actual effort to go undetected.

The meeting place was surprisingly populated. There were granaries and other storehouses full of bustling workers, a security station and several eateries. On the way to the hub they passed through over a dozen residential districts as well. Sam noted the squalor of most of the homes.

The man they met was human, but so pale and thin ge might have passed for one of Sam’s kindred. He was flanked by two guards in addition to the other three that emerged from the storehouses.

“Well well,” said the thin man, “you’re playin’ it somewhat straight for once. Allright. I’ll reciprocate.”

He nodded to the men behind them, and they left together, vanishing down the labyrinth lf hallways towards one of the slums.

“Figured your geek squad figured out how to scan for his kin by now,” said Holoway.

“You’ve practically been broadcasting this guy all over the ship, Joshua. But I appreciate the gesture. No one can scan for them yet. There. How’s that for a token of trust?”

Holloway scrunched his face again. “Mediocre?”

“Allright allright, let’s get this over with, huh?”

“Fine by me. These fellows part of your inner circle, Widlow? I never seen ‘em before.”

“You ain’t seen half of my crew, Joshua. But yeah, I trust ‘em. You, mamani, I’m asking you if you trust him. Because this is some heavy stuff and you just got here. You wanna get yourself in the muck of Albion?”

Boredom was a burden that no one deserved to bear. Sam nodded.

“Okay. You’ve been warned. The Radix are targeting the Sentinels. But you knew that. Yeah. But the other day, I’m listening in one of our surveillance booths; I do it every now and then to feel young again, like when I first got in the business. So I was testing out the new bugs we spread out over their turf and heard some of their higher ups talking. I heard two words that freaked me out. Tangent, and Samhadi.”

Sam looked at Holloway, whose face went dark.

“How did they get contacted by the Tangents?” Holloway asked. His voice was hoarse.

Widlow smiled but did not look amused. “Ah yeah, now we get to the good part.”

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He handed Holloway a small box, which he opened. Sam almost thought he saw moisture welling in his eyes.

He snapped the box shut. “What do you want?”

“Peace. For now, at least.”

His voice became a sub-growl. “What’s your angle, Widlow?”

“My angle? Did you not hear the two words I just said? My angle is to keep this bird in the air. You know of any alternative accommodations, Joshua? I see a lot of people from out there comin’ here. And we both know what that means.”

“Tell me what you got.”

“You first.”

Holloway clutched the box with both hands till his knuckles went white. Then he seemed to calm down a little. At least enough not to growl. “The duke’s clean. He’s after the same thing as the general.”

“Then who was tailing the scientist?”

“The duke’s men.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Why not?”

“What were they tailing her for if the duke was clean?”

Sam grew tired of their back and forth. “They were protecting her.”

They both turned to him and asked him to explain his comment.

“They were watching her, but they never made a move. I don’t think I was meant to play bodyguard. I was a deterrent, but not from the duke’s employees. The general could have supplied guards of his own to more than counter them. No. I was meant to keep someone else at bay. Someone worse. “

“Who?” asked Widlow, looking at Holloway.

“How would I know?I get very simple, precise requests from Harbinger Command and believe me, asking them questions is a waste of time. But the question I have now is if there’s someone dangerous out there trailing the professor, then why did General Sensus call you off?”

“You yourself said I was on retainer.”

Holloway’s head jerked back. “I did?”

“You’re keeping me occupied while I wait for another assignment.”

“Well, I didn’t mean... I mean... well, I suppose I did. Look, I’m sure you were good at what you did back home, but I’m gonna need more than your hunch. Even if it makes sense.”

“Let me worry about the scientist,” said Widlow. “You’re got the in with the Sentinels, Joshua.”

“I wouldn’t call helping Needle a time or two having an in with the Sentinels.”

“But you can contact him.” Widlow seemed desperate.

“Yeah. I can. He’s on the ship now, believe it or not.” He looked at Sam. “Wanna meet a legend?”

—-

The tubes were large enough to fit a small space craft inside. They were opaque, which was sensible considering what flowed through them, and the facility, like the tubes, shared the antiseptic quality one found in a hospital. What boggled Sam’s mind was how cluttered and messy the kitchens of Albion’s many restaurants were, while the sewage transfer plant was spotless. He remarked on this observation, and Holloway gave him a flummoxed look.

“You must be a big hit on your people’s dating scene.”

Which in turn flummoxed Sam, because he was indeed considered a dynamic personality by his own kind.

“It’s a fascinating observation,” said a voice that seemed to come from both nowhere and everywhere. “You weren’t wrong, Holloway. This one is capable. One has to notice all things in and out of place to be a detective. What you are granted by dumb luck, this mamani takes with honed skill.”

Sam felt a presence behind him and turned quickly, stopping when he saw the smallish figure leaning casually against the nearest bay of monitors.

“Such precise movements. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had some Sentinel blood in you. And that’s possible, by the way.”

Holloway stepped cautiously forward, and for the first time since Sam had met The Human, he seemed nervous.

“Needle. Good to have you back.”

Needle cocked his head, then seemed to somehow smile through his still features. Sam liked this hyperfiber man. Maybe it was the mystique surrounding his kind. He didn’t look like a war machine, but Sam knew well not to trust superficial observations. This Sentinel was dangerously calm; to the point where it almost seemed he wasn’t truly there.

“You sure? Everyone I’ve spoken with since I got back just wants to argue with me. Of course, you’re only the third person I’ve spoken with.”

Holloway shook his head slowly. “You won’t get any arguments from me. We need you, brother.”

“Really? Thank you for saying that. I really needed to hear something positive. So, tell me, what ails Albion? Other than the usual, of course.”

“Well, I don’t have much on the specifics front, but it seems the Tangents have agents on board and they’re planning something that has to do with Samhadi.”

Needle nodded his head, and for an instant, it looked to Sam as if he were approving of what Holloway feared.

“That’s where I’d strike, if I were trying to take the ship down. Half of Haleon’s whole fleet would need to concentrate their fire just to penetrate the shields. Plant a virus in Samhadi, though, and you could turn my people into wild dogs and have control in... Well, the Harbingers would be an issue. Sounds like you’ve stumbled on a single piece of a big puzzle.”

“Yeah, well, if you could help us out...”

“Of course I’ll help, Joshua. I love this tin can. There’s no way I’d let anything bad ever happen to her. But we’ll need more information than Widlow’s half overheard conversation.” He looked directly at Sam, and he felt his spine tingling. “You wanna have some fun, Justicar?”

Sam felt a jolt of surprise. “You know...”

“Oh yeah. I know. I’ve employed a few of you over the years. That was before your time, though, when you still operated off-world. You had quite the spread going back then. Six systems, plus a few independent colonies. Pity what the Verge did to them. But now you’re here. The worst is surely over.”

Holloway made certain Needle had finished speaking before he did. “So, what’s the plan, boss?”

Sam never cared for the false gestures his prey would make if he gave them a chance to speak. Still, he learned them, now and then letting his quarry think they had a chance of convincing him to let him go. The insight he gained helped him in the long run. One pretense that made him the most ill at ease was when a criminal pretended to have to think on a matter before speaking, when in reality they knew exactly what they were going to say.

“The plan?” Needle said after a pronounced pause, “Oh, at this point we’d best not do anything that will get us noticed. They know someone’s onto them, whoever they are. We’ll lay low for now, have a few drinks, maybe catch a show.”

Holloway seemed to like Needle’s plan. “You know, Sam and I were fixin’ to watch a movie at his place tonight. Care to join?”

Sam looked at Holloway. He must have known of a discreet entrance to the apartments in that district. Or else he’d decided to abandon caution.

“What were you planning to watch?” asked Needle.

“Shawshank Redemption.”

“Huh.”

“You don’t like Shawshank Redemption?”

Needle shrugged. “It’s a little on the nose for me.”

“What film would you recommend?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Holloway chimed, “we’ll let you pick the flick, boss.”

Needle was still, then slightly inclined his head. “Well, you’ve picked the right era. Post-Fall cinema was awful. I know. Let’s show Sam humanity’s potential. Let’s show him how a conqueror is born.”

There was a hunger in his voice that Sam felt both unnerved and reassured by. It reminded him of the hunger he felt when he knew he had won.

“Whatever you wanna watch,” said Holloway.

“You got any nepenthe?”

“Two cases of Geo. Best batch on the ship.”

“You’re on.”

The film Needle chose portrayed a mapmaker who was sent into a wasteland on a vague assignment. He went in humble, learning the customs of the dwellers of the wasteland, though he often denounced their tribalism. But his odd pairing of courage and civility won him their respect, and for a time their love, until violence made an animal of the man. Next he became a spectacle, buying into his own propaganda until his hubris was raped out of him. He then longed for home until his home proved sour, and a haphazard attempt at re-apotheosis left him hollow, seeking emotion in an endeavor that led to his foreshadowed death. His emptiness was made absolute when his conquest proved to be for the mere convenience of politicians, and he, who rallied a disparate nation against a common and superior foe, was dismissed, expected to accept the role of a subordinate when he had recently been revered.

“Exquisite film,” Needle said after it was finished.

Holloway pretended to like it, but Sam could tell the movie bothered him. Or perhaps it was the fact that Needle chose it, and some implication carried by that choice. In either case, if Sam could tell it had put him off balance, then surely Needle could as well.

“What did you think, Sam?” Needle asked.

“I enjoyed it very much.” And indeed he had.

When they had both gone, Sam placed surveillance equipment which he’d smuggled past customs in the maintenance hallway they came through, as well as an energy net that when activated, would incinerate anyone who passed through the small access vent he had previously not thought to find. It occurred to Sam that Holloway was a much subtler man than he presented himself to be.