There’s an old saying among investigators trying to put together a case: Follow the money. That’s what I was doing, hoping to track a major shift of fortune in order to learn the identity of the Brotherhood of Shadows. It was a good idea… in theory. In practice, however, when you’re looking at an entire galaxy filled with hundreds of races, it suddenly becomes much more complicated.
Let’s say for the sake of argument the Oivu priced the secret of the Precursor homeworld at a billion credits (I imagine I’m seriously low-balling that, but it’ll illustrate my point). Let’s also speculate that you just happen to have a billion credits burning a hole in your pocket, so you decide to fork it over to the Oivu to learn what they know. Now a billion credits may seem like a lot of money, and it is, but when you look at what it can buy, you’re suddenly faced with a lot of red herrings. How do you know that billion isn’t funding a new battlecruiser for the Aggaaddub Hegemony, or an investment in infrastructure by the Baishain? Perhaps the Eleexx are financing research into advanced weapons, or maybe the Glevack are building a new capital city? Or…
… You get my point.
And that’s only looking at credits. When you widen the field to encompass a barter with either trade goods or information, the possibilities grow exponentially and become much harder to track. For example, I know for a fact that Maggie Al-Hajjah… excuse me, Rademacher… traded that the Tu’udh’hizh’ak were telepaths to learn the secret. I know that because I was there, but when I attempt to trace the effects of that trade, I’m left with a handful of vague suppositions, and no proof. Case in point, the Ksot are currently investigating the possibility of blocking mental transmissions, which seems to indicate they were a buyer of that bit of intel, but it’s not proof. Maybe there’s an entirely different reason they’re looking into that.
I felt like I was chasing my tail, going round and round and getting nowhere. I needed to step back and come at this fresh, so I opened up the Katabasis file and pulled down the next name on the list. Maybe that would spark something.
Chevalier Troisième Mica Niemi, of the Knight’s Hospitaller Clan, had perhaps both the most mundane and yet most unusual death of all the names on my list. Officially she died of a heart attack, or “Myocardial Infarction”, in medical terms fourteen years ago. The medical staff on hand did their best to save her, but she coded and was pronounced just a few hours after her collapse. Heart attacks are nothing unusual, people die from them every day. Almost banal, really, compared to the others.
… except for the fact that not only had there been no autopsy, but her body up and vanished less than twenty-four hours after her death. Not all deaths warrant an autopsy, in fact they’re rare except in situations such as murder investigations. Even among the Knights they signed off most deaths with no one ever picking up a scalpel, but they are also the source of humanity’s best-trained physicians and healers. Given the dearth of resources all clans suffer from, as well as the fact she died aboard the KHCS Malta, the Knight’s training vessel, using her remains to teach the next batch of students was all but a given. Not an autopsy per se, but since her cadaver was scheduled to be used in the Troisième training course, where budding medical students would study her remains to discern among other things the cause of death, it was the next best thing.
That her body vanished before that could take place suggests to me someone did not want an examination of her remains. One wonders why. There are many ways to induce a heart attack… Aconite, a derivative of the Wolfsbane plant, was an old favorite back on Earth… which leads me to suspect that some trace of what they used to murder her remained. And let’s face it, disposing of a body is as simple as tossing it out an airlock in deep space. The odds of someone stumbling across it are infinitesimal, though if you want to make certain you could always pitch it into a nearby star.
Sure, maybe it was just a heart attack, and her body’s disappearance could just be due to a clerical error. It happens. But when you stack it against all the others? I’m sorry, I just don’t buy it.
Unfortunately, that brief sidebar did little to help my frame of mind. I was no closer to narrowing down who the Oivu had sold the data to, and the more I looked at the problem, the more I realized it was a fool’s errand. The galaxy was simply too big, and the intel I was working from was far too sparse. At this rate, the only way I’d find the answer is if I went to the Oivu and asked them myself…
…
... fuck.
... I am such an idiot.
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Desperate times call for desperate measures. Isn’t that the saying? Somebody out there has been killing off Terrans who knew anything about the Precursor planet for years, and since I now found myself amongst that august number, I was more than a little motivated to track down this Brotherhood and hold their feet to the fire. But I couldn’t do that until I had some inkling how to find them, and right now I had bupkis. No leads, no informants, no nothing.
But the Oivu know who they sold the information to, and I was certain they’d sell me their client list for the right price. It wouldn’t be cheap, that goes without saying… in fact, I was fairly certain there wasn’t a chance in hell I could raise that kind of capital. Luckily, they also dealt in intelligence, something I had in abundance, but there was a problem there as well. Technically, I don’t own any of the secrets in my head, they’re the property of the Avatar clan. Besides, to make the trade I was contemplating would take something significant. Something earth-shattering.
Something desperate.
There was only one bit of intel I had access to that would even come close to fitting the bill, but trading that to the Oivu? I’d be putting the entire clan at risk, and there was no way Chris would ever approve of it. But I had to try, and for better or worse, she was the one who had started me on this path. I owed her a conversation, at the very least, and the chance to deny my request. And after that?
Let’s just say I wasn’t looking forward to the meeting.
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I let Chris choose the venue this time once I made my way back to her neck of the woods and told her to surprise me. When you’re setting up your bubble, you always have the option of making it so visitors are instantly garbed in whatever costume or body form most closely matches the environment they’ve chosen. When I arrived at the designated coordinates and was granted access, I found myself dressed in a kamishimo of slate grey, my hair pulled back and tied off in a topknot, with katana and wakizashi swords belted at my waist in a sash.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Edo Period Japan. Interesting choice.
The path I stood on was made of small, polished pebbles, crunching beneath my sandals as I wound my way through a carefully sculpted garden, past cherry trees in full blossom and decorative ponds teeming with vibrantly colored koi. As I neared the wooden structure, two rows of guards bearing the triple-hollyhock emblem of the Tokugawa clan snapped to attention and stood aside. I spotted Chris dressed in long flowing blue robes, kneeling on a large cushion before a low table where a teapot and two porcelain cups sat waiting. Behind a shoji screen a musician plucked away on a shamisen, playing a mournful yet melodic tune.
A great lady daimyo, receiving her samurai retainer. Not all that far off the mark, come to think about it.
Slipping off my sandals, I entered the villa and knelt opposite her on a rice tatami mat, removing both my swords and laying them beside me. She smiled and poured for both of us, skipping the elaborate tea ceremony that Japanese custom would absolutely require, were any of this real. There are times I can appreciate that sort of detail in a simulation, but some of them border on masochism.
I bowed to her and lifted the cup to my lips, sipping politely as she did likewise. “I love what you’ve done with the place,” I said in all honesty.
“Thank you,” she smiled in return. “I like to change things up now and then, and you must admit this era had exquisite artistic taste.”
“It did,” I agreed. The palace and grounds were beautiful, like something from a painting.
“So, what news do you have for me?” she asked, settling in as she awaited my report.
“I tracked down an information broker that had dealings with the Brotherhood,” I informed her. “They commissioned him to purchase an item, before the Troika swooped in and snatched it up for themselves.”
“What item?” she asked, sipping her tea.
“He didn’t know,” I shrugged. “They’d listed it as an archaeological artifact which doesn’t tell us much. It could be almost anything. Even the imagery I’ve seen is of little help.”
“You think it belonged to the Precursors,” she surmised.
“I can’t imagine any other reason for the interest, considering the players involved. Can you?”
She shook her head, setting down her cup. “No, unfortunately. Did the Troika take possession of it then?”
“That’s where it gets curious,” I said wryly. “Once the Troika pulled the rug out, the Brotherhood had an additional request. They wanted to know how the item was being transported… what ship, when it was departing, its route, everything.”
“Interesting,” she murmured.
“Considering said ship up and vanished, I’d say it was very interesting,” I nodded. “I mean, maybe it blew up all on its own, or wandered off course and flew into a star, but I sure as hell wouldn’t want to place any wagers on it.”
She sat up at that. “They hijacked and destroyed a Troika ship, just to get their hands on the artifact?”
“So it would seem,” I nodded. “I mean, there’s no proof either way, but it’s the only scenario that makes any sense.”
She bent down and refreshed both our cups, sipping her green tea as she digested that. Finally, she cocked her head. “I assume you have some idea for your next move?”
I grimaced at that. “I do.”
My discomfort did not go unnoticed. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “And just what cockamamie scheme have you come up with this time?” she asked, already exasperated.
I held up my hand. “Now just hear me out…”
It was like a cell door slamming shut. “The answer is no, Al,” she snapped. “Forget it.”
“You haven’t even heard my idea yet,” I protested.
“Uh-huh,” she answered, utterly nonplussed. “Do you know why I already know it’s a bad idea? Because if it was a good idea, you would have done it already, certainly without bothering to come see me first. You’d be handing me the complete package, all tied up with a neat little bow. That you aren’t tells me you’ve had another one of your brainstorms, but you also know there’s no way I’d ever approve it, so you’re hoping you can slip it in under the door and pray nobody notices. So I’m not signing off on this, period.”
“Damn it, look,” I fired back, maybe a bit harsher than I’d intended. She recoiled slightly, warning me I was now on dangerously thin ice. Taking a moment to calm myself, I tried again.
“There’s only two sources aware of the Precursor planet,” I explained in carefully measured tones, “the Troika, and the Oivu. There’s no way in hell the Troika would leak that information, which means the Oivu must have sold them the secret, just like they did us. They’re the only solid lead I have, Chris, which means I have to go to them to find out who they sold it to.”
“And just what are you planning on paying them with?” she asked suspiciously.
“... maybe it’s best you don’t know that part,” I hedged.
“And there it is,” she flared, her words now filled with fire. “Just what secret were you planning on handing over to them, Al? What’s big enough to buy an entire planet?” I started to respond, but she cut me off before I had the chance. “It doesn’t matter because I’m ending your investigation. I’ll put someone else on it, someone who won’t gut us like a fish because they’ve lost sight of the bigger picture.”
I rose to my feet. “You can’t do that,” I growled, “and I haven’t lost sight of anything. This Brotherhood is like a malignant tumor, festering away and hidden from view. Until they’re dealt with, hauled out into the light and exposed for what they are, all of humanity is at risk.”
She stood as well. “Obviously, you’ve forgotten who’s in charge here. I’ve let you walk in the past because you’ve always gotten me results, and because of our friendship, but I will not risk the security of our clan.” My expression must have given me away, as her features hardened. “I had a feeling that’s what you had in mind,” she scowled, snapping her fingers, as my heart sank. Chris could always read me like a book, and in that moment, she must have seen just how big a gamble I was contemplating.
Too big for her to accept, it would seem.
The door slid open as the royal guards stepped inside and flanked me, their naginatas held at the ready as they glared at me through their helmets. She folded her arms as they raised their weapons. “You would put a blade to our throat for anyone willing to pay the Oivu’s price, and for what? A hunch?”
I ignored the guards and focused my attention on her. “I know I’m right about this,” I told her. “Just let me keep digging, and I’ll prove it to you.”
“I should have realized you’d go off the deep end on this one,” she said coldly. Her head swiveled towards the guards. “Kare o taiho suru!” she barked.
... remember when I said simulacrums can never match a human?
The guards were just a heartbeat too slow as I dove for my swords, whipping away the scabbards as I charged into battle, my blades flashing like buzz saws as I tore into them. They died in short order with a minimum of gore… apparently Chris didn’t want to dirty up her pretty palace with red splashes of blood… turning to face her as the last one fell only to discover she’d produced a bow from somewhere and was now pointing a nocked arrow directly at my head.
I dropped my swords, letting them clatter to the wooden floor. “I’m not fighting you, Chris,” I told her, “but I am finishing this investigation.”
Her eyes narrowed as the bowstring quivered. This was her domain, not mine, and I had to assume if she let that arrow fly… well, I’m fairly sure I wouldn’t enjoy what came next.
Her nostrils flared, and then with a deep breath she released the tension on the bow, letting it fall to her side. “If you do this,” she said coldly, “then you are on your own. You will have no protection from the clan, I will forbid you the use of our resources, and you will be a pariah among our kind. Is that really what you want?”
Our eyes locked before I managed a weary sigh. “Of course not,” I said softly, “but you do what you have to do. And so will I.”
I graced her with a deep bow in the ancient style and then turned and walked away.