“Well,” Dick said, finally joining the conversation.
He pushed himself off the transport hull where he had been leaning casually and stepped forward.
“I’ll give you a 10 out of 10 for shock factor, Owen, but your sales pitch could really use some work,” Dick said with false good-nature as he slapped Owen on the back. “Thanks for stopping by, though. Let’s never do it again.”
“Yeah, I think we’ll pass on the whole war thing,” Vomero said.
“I would not make this decision so hastily,” Owen said, unperturbed. “What my benefactors offer is no small favor.”
“Really?” I said. “Because to me, it sounds like all they are offering is to expedite a verification process that is already underway. Money to pay out debts is something we can get ourselves without joining some shady mission that could get us all killed.”
“You might find yourself more confident in the verification process, Ms. Alnasi, than your companions,” Owen said, and I looked around at everyone else. Several of them were avoiding eye contact.
“I’m sure there’s valid identities for names like Dick L’Amant and Jack Trader that match your descriptions,” Owen said, ironically. “But what will they do when their search discovers a notorious hitman and a wanted fugitive among your traveling companions?
He looked pointedly first at Cash and then at Ryuuk, as he spoke. Then he turned toward Vomero.
“And don’t even get me started on you Mr. Maldorani,” Owen continued,” a hacktivist wanted on six different Pact Worlds for cyber-terrorism, corporate espionage, insider trading, crypto theft, and that’s just the highlights. You’d be lucky if you ever left Veridi in anything but a Interstellar Trade Enforcement prison transport.”
I made a concerted effort to keep the shock racing through my mind from showing on my face. Vomero grumbled something under his breath about hacktivist being a stupid name. Affecting a don’t-give-a-shit attitude, I shrugged.
“Not to sound crass,” I said. “But those all sound like personal problems that have nothing to do with me. I just met these people. I assure you Skye Alnasi is indeed my real identity and, despite my past affiliations, my record with the ITE is squeaky clean. I have no desire to get myself embroiled in political shitstorms, or worse, killed just to help clear their names.”
“Same for me,” said Matthew, then looked sheepishly at the others. “Sorry, guys.”
Owen seemed unconcerned, shrugging as he replied, “The fact that most of your companions have questionable records simply saves my benefactors the trouble of having to invent one for them. It won’t take much effort to craft a convincing red flag for a former Outlaw and someone practicing mysterious and questionable void magic.”
“So, it’s blackmail then,” I said, my tone turning cold and sharp as steel.
“It’s an opportunity,” Owen, rebutted. “And just so you can all feel confident that the offer is sincere, my sponsors are willing to pay your debts and the extra money up front.”
“Why us?” Cash said. “We just arrived, under constant scrutiny, and, as you pointed out, not the most reliable sounding group of people. Why would your bosses want to trust something like this to us?”
“Let me not overplay the importance of the mission you’re being asked to complete,” Owen clarified. “There are already several, more crucial plans underway to achieve my sponsors’ goal. Those tasks, of course, have been given to more trusted players devoted to the cause. Your mission is more of a back-up option, should it be needed. And the fact that you are unknowns of a disreputable nature, who have no ties to my employers, makes this a low-risk contingency should you manage to fail such a simple assignment.”
“Well, that sounds a lot different than ‘We want you to start a war,’” said Dick. “I assume this has to do with the current political unrest going on in the city.”
Owen thought for a moment before responding, as if deciding how much was prudent for him to divulge.
“My employers have a vested interest in removing the queen from her position of authority after the events of the past few days,” he said. “Shaking her loose from her death grip on the throne, however, will require major political unrest to achieve. Perhaps ‘start a war’ was a little melodramatic. ‘Stir up trouble’ would be more accurate.”
“So, what’s the job?” I asked.
I was extremely pissed about being forced into a contract, but I also knew that there were few options available to us right now. At the very least, we would need to go along with the plan until we could find a work-around.
“I would need to know you’re on board before divulging any details,” Owen said.
“I'm not stupid enough to accept a job without at least knowing what dangers it involves and whether innocent people are going to be hurt,” I said, refusing to budge. “Tell us what the job is, and we’ll discuss together whether we want to accept it or roll the dice with the authorities and whatever else your benefactors throw at us.”
Owen sighed and nodded.
“I won’t give you specifics until you’ve agreed, but suffice it to say, the mission involves smuggling assets into high security areas of the city where they can be deployed should they be necessary,” Owen said, vaguely.
“I’m not delivering a bomb, if that’s what it is,” I said. “I don’t do mass murder.”
“I can assure you it is nothing of that type. It is my benefactor’s intent to achieve their goals to preserve the lives of the innocent, not sacrifice them in the process. The only ones who would be in danger from your mission would be trained and armed guards and security officials.”
“When are we expected to complete this job?” Vomero said. “And what do your benefactors plan to do about our little souvenirs?”
Vomero held up his wrist to show off the guest pass bracelet that tracked our movements.
“Should you accept, you’ll have a week’s time to prepare before the assets are delivered to you,” Owen said. “As for the bracelets, you seem like a resourceful bunch. I’m sure you’ll figure out a way around it.”
Owen straightened his bland attire and moved toward the gangway. “I shall give you the evening to consider the offer.”
“How do we find you when we’ve made our decision?” Cash asked.
“You don’t,” Owen said. And before our eyes, his face and body shifted under his loose-fitting suit. He now looked like a Syreni man, though still an unremarkable one. “I’ll find you in the morning for your answer.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
And with that, the man was gone.
* * *
“This seems to be exactly the type of trouble we were hoping to avoid by leaving,” Vomero commented.
After Owen left, our group had retreated to the relative privacy of the ship. I was pouring drinks at the lounge bar as everyone gathered nearby to discuss this mission.
“I don’t like being forced to do a job,” I said.
“Neither do I,” said Cash. “But he’s not wrong that getting clearance to leave the traditional route seems unlikely.”
“For you guys, maybe,” I mumbled, as I took a sip of whiskey. I looked over at Ryuuk, who was reading over something on his tablet. “Hey, birdman, Mr. Follow-The-Law, Sir High and Mighty, you’re a wanted fugitive? I bet you got in that situation by being such a stickler for the rules, huh?”
Ryuuk looked up from his reading. The look on his face was uncharacteristically hard.
"I did the right thing,” he said. “Others didn’t see it that way.”
“Clearly,” I responded.
“Look, I’m more concerned about the paid killer who’s been hiding in our midst,” Dick said.
He pointed an accusing finger at Cash and glanced at me. Seeing my lack of response, Dick’s face fell into a sarcastic sneer.
“Oh, wow,” he said to me. “You knew. Of course you knew and decided not to tell us.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” I defended. “We’re not partners or even friends; none of us are! But for your information, I just found out today. I haven’t had time to tell anyone even if it was my place to do so.”
“At least I’m not hiding behind a fake name,” Cash shot at Dick.
“Yeah, okay! I’m the bad guy, not the person who would literally kill us all for the money if he got the right offer,” Dick exploded.
“Is that what all this assassination stuff was,” Vomero said, putting the pieces together, “some internal affairs personal assassin beef? And we almost got caught in the middle of it?”
“Oh that’s rich, coming from the guy with a rap sheet so long, Owen had to put an addendum at the end of the list!” said Cash.
“I don’t even know what half them charges were,” Ryuuk added.
“The galaxy is full of corrupt, greedy, power-hungry people who are just looking to take what they can from people who can’t do anything about it,” Vomero said.
“And you’re one of them?” I joked.
“I don’t lose a wink of sleep at night for taking what some corporate bastard gained off the suffering of others and redistributing it as I see fit,” he rebutted, “or opening up their dirty little secrets to the light of day so they get what’s coming to them. But in case you aren’t smart enough to realize, those things aren’t possible through legal means.”
I could respect that. In fact, I didn’t have much problem with whatever was in these people’s pasts, it’s what they were doing on this transport that might have led us all into this pile of shit that concerned me.
“It says here in Jack’s book that guy, Owen, was probably some sort of shapeshifter,” Ryuuk said, finally looking up from his reading.
“No shit,” I said. “What gave it away?”
Either oblivious to my sarcastic tone or ignoring it, Ryuuk continued.
“There’s a lot of good information about them in here. Pages and pages of it. More than I feel like readin’ bout to be honest. I figured it might help us know what we’re dealing with a little bit, though, if anyone were interested.”
“I doubt anything you’ll find in there is even reliable,” Dick said.
“It couldn’t hurt,” Vomero said. “Mind if I take a look at it, Ryuuk?”
Ryuuk passed the book to Vomero who scanned the pages for anything useful.
“Hmmm...Ryuuk was right. This chapter of the book seems to be quite a bit longer than some of the others, almost as if the writer had more familiarity with shapeshifters than some of the other species in his book. If that’s the case, some of this could be fairly reliable. It talks at length about different species, the difference in biology of each, and so forth. Some of it seems a little unbelievable, but there’s quite a bit of detail, which also makes me think it could be somewhat credible.”
“I don’t know,” said Cash. “Those hand signals Ryuuk threw out at the Tritons were also pretty detailed, and look where that got us.”
Several of us nodded in agreement. It seemed interesting to me that Jack Trader, whoever he was, had such intimate knowledge about shapeshifters. I had traveled around most of the Pact Worlds and had only ever met a couple of them. Although, classifying it as “met” was a bit disingenuous. More like, encountered during a job but never interacted with one.
“Oh, here’s a synopsis function with audio readout,” Vomero said, pushing buttons, “if anyone’s curious.”
He selected something on the touchscreen and sat the tablet on the bar so the sound would project farther. The voice doing the readout sounded female with a slight robotic cadence to her narration. It reminded me of something you’d hear in a museum exhibit voice-over.
Although there are many species of shapeshifters, their capabilities fall primarily into two categories. The first category of shapeshifter are often called mimics. Their abilities are magic based and are purely cosmetic in form. They can make themselves into an exact replica of someone or something else, but their underlying biology remains unchanged.
“Hmph,” Dick huffed. “Sounds like a cheesy parlor trick.”
The second category of shapeshifter is biology based and are often referred to as changelings because they sample DNA from other species and can use it turn into their own form of that species, altering their form biologically, as well as visually. This allows them to not only take on the appearance of another species, but to also take advantage of any inherent qualities associated with that species, such as flight, the ability to breath underwater, resistances, and so forth.
“That type sounds much more bad-ass,” Dick commented again.
“Sounds disturbing,” I said.
Overall, shapeshifter races tend to be reclusive in nature, often choosing to live like hermits and possessing generally low intelligence.
Dick made a choking sound in his whiskey cup and sputtered through a cough. I raised a curious eyebrow toward him and he shrugged.
“Swallowed wrong,” he said hoarsely.
“That would explain why I’ve rarely seen a shapeshifter, much less met one,” I observed.
“Yeah but Owen didn’t seem to be lacking in intelligence or socially reclusive,” Vomero pointed out.
“That’s literally the stupidest thing I’ve heard,” Dick said. “It’s much more likely that you never see shapeshifters because they’re not usually in the habit of showing off like Owen here and are always disguising themselves.”
Another commonality among shapeshifters is their reluctance to reveal their own inherent form. When it is necessary for them to interact with the public, most prefer to take an alternate form. The only exception to this behavior would be when interacting with members of their own species or other shapeshifters. It is common for shapeshifters, even of different species and types, to recognize other shapeshifters even through their disguises, making them superfluous when interacting with fellow shapeshifters.
“See,” Dick mumbled. “Unintelligent hermits, my ass.”
“Do you think we can probably assume Owen falls under the first type?” said Cash. “What were they? Mimics?”
“Seems likely, given the business he’s in,” I said. “Being able to disguise himself as someone else would be very useful in his type of profession. It sounds like the other type can have many forms but not necessarily a specific person.”
“What else does it say about mimics, then?” Ryuuk asked, and Vomero scanned through and tapped the screen.
Mimics can copy another person’s exact image by simply observing them. Because their capabilities are magic-based, rather than biological, it requires intense concentration and precision on the shapeshifter’s part to maintain the illusion. Any severe break in concentration could disrupt the ability and cause the shapeshifter to revert to another form. Practice makes perfect, however, and the more a mimic studies a particular form, the more convincing the illusion and easier it is for them to project.
“I’m willing to bet our boy Owen isn't some amateur we can trip up into revealing his true form, nor do I see how that would even help us,” I said.
However, I was finding the information enlightening for other reasons.
“Agreed,” said Dick. “It’s a waste of time when we should be discussing whether we want to accept his offer or make a run for it.”
“Running seems like a bad idea,” Vomero said. “Our ship isn’t exactly space worthy. Hell, it’s not even sea worthy, yet. And anywhere we go on this planet will just find us dogged by the authorities.”
“Then we’ve really got no choice,” Cash said.
“I hate not having a choice,” I said, angrily.
“All of us hate not having a choice,” Dick interjected. “But I say it’s best to plan for the worst, which is actually having to do whatever fool mission this is, while keeping an eye out for a better option.”
“And hope we don’t die in the meantime,” the old man added.