The Blatant Prey

The Blatant Prey

by James Matt Cox

The story presented here is fiction.

Any similarity to any person, group or entity living, dead or virtual is purely coincidental.

Version Code: 201011

Copyright 2015 by James M. Cox, Jr.

Smashwords Edition

Cover Art by: www.viladesign.net

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Books by James Matt Cox

A Pattern of Details

The Dungeon Crawl Unlimited fantasy RPG system

Open Source Tools for Independent Authors

Vortex Portal

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The Children of Wisdom

The Dawn of Wisdom; Beyond Wisdom; Flashes of Wisdom

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Books in the Stone Blade series:

Stone Blade; Double Bait

The Radical Factor; The Burning Crown

Expedient Measures; Lethal Max

The Border Incident; The Blatant Prey

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The Moons of Epigaea

Sage's Moon; Reaper's Moon; Hallow's Moon; Planter's Moon

This book is dedicated to my sister-in-law Roxanne.

She doesn't like one particular part of this story.

Naturally, I had to dedicate it to her.

- - - - -

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

-The First Amendment to the

Constitution of the United States of America

Chapter 0. Prologue

Malcolm Ten stood in the blistering midday heat in the Training Facility courtyard facing Building A. Immediately beside him stood LaVare and Nairon along with twenty-two others. None of them perspired, fidgeted or moved and only rarely did they blink. Before them at the Podium of Punishment the Chief Instructor addressed them.

"Group Ten. You have completed your final training exercises as cadets and now it is time for you to move forward. The Zuberi Baas gave you your paltry lives and lavished his precious and meager wealth upon you. Now it is time for you to repay him. Draw."

In perfect unison twenty-five hands drew twenty-five daggers, raised them high and held them point downward.

"Strike."

Twenty-five daggers now plunged downward, each of them piercing the stomach of the man wielding it. Now some of them swayed slightly. Malcolm felt a momentary pang of emotion for LaVare who actually stumbled.

Face right. March by columns from the left.

Malcolm held his dagger steady. Pain burned his guts and a totally alien weakness seeped through him as he waited his turn. Finally he began his slow march toward the beckoning doorway. Two Junior Instructors flanked it with nerve lashes at the ready. As each cadet walked through the door he received a lash from both. The weaklings who faltered would be noted along with the ones who already failed in the courtyard.

Malcolm didn't even flinch as the lashes burned his skin. Even though he felt as if the flesh charred, crisped and fell of his bones he knew the falsity of the pain.

In here, cadet.

Malcolm turned sharply and marched toward the medical bay. The man there held out his hand. Though his vision blurred and his fingers numbed Malcolm pulled out the dagger, sheathed it and handed it to the medic.

Lay down.

Malcolm felt a shameful relief wash through him as he complied. His legs had grown weak and he'd have fallen before long. His last sight was of the medic putting a compression pad over his wound. Then his vision dimmed.

Rise, hlatshwayo.

Malcolm didn't know how long he slept but he felt strong and solid when he rose. A minor pain more notable for its presence than its severity marked where his dagger struck.

You have given the Zuberi Baas your life, hlatshwayo. Now go and serve him.

This time Malcolm felt no shame in the emotions welling up within him: pride and gratitude. Pride that now he could fully dedicate himself to the Zuberi Baas and gratitude that the Zuberi Baas would accept him into service.

***

Bennett Zwann hustled down the crowded street, well aware of the trio of men following him. He knew they were trouble if not the exact why and he also knew he could turn the tables on them. If he had time. If he had time enough to reach friendlier turf. If.

Whatever trouble awaited, Zwann felt certain he could talk himself out of it. Fairly certain. He ran his fingers nervously through his platinum-and-scarlet hair as he considered options. Still, better caution than crazy. The three shadows edged closer and Zwann knew he wouldn't make it to his home territory.

He took a quick turn away from his track, wove through some crowds and turned again. He grabbed a cap from an inattentive man, donned it and wove some more. He knew that wouldn't lose his trackers long but maybe long enough.

Zwann ducked into a comm booth. He didn't have enough hard change for a call and someone had burned his cards crispy. If he survived the day, he vowed, he'd find out who did that and hire them whiffed. He keyed in as much message as he could, sent it away and dove back into the crowds.

He hadn't gone far when rough hands grabbed him.

"Come, gahina. The Master wishes to have words with you."

Phase down, nubb. Zwann tried to break the grip. Six-sigmas I'll have words with that bloated bottomfeeder. He still owes me...

A hard fist to the kidneys quenched the words in Zwann's mouth. More hands ripped his terminal case off his shoulder and, heedless of the people now starting to wonder and speak out, thrust him into a waiting hover.

After a short journey in which his three captors spoke little, a somewhat-recovered Zwann found himself dragged into a shabby building. The large main room stank of sweat and pain and opened into a small, well-apportioned office at the back. The man sitting there made the drab desk and chair seem like a throne.

Greetings, Zwann Bennett, he said in a rich baritone voice. My sources tell me you think I owe you something.

Bond on it, you do, said Zwann. I did yer ruddy burning for you, spiked a lot more warez than were supposed to be there, compromised two systems that weren't even in the original contract an' still got what you wanted. That without being paid, stape. Bloody right you owe me.

One of the three silent ones hissed but Master raised a finger and he fell silent.

I cannot disagree with you, Zwann. You did accomplish what I asked and more besides.

Double-plus right.

"It is the nature of the more besides that concerns me. Exclusivity was in the primary clause of your bargain with me. I have heard rumors that certain tidbits of my data are circulating the streets with an impressive price placed on the remainder."

"Feces. What I burned I burned for you. Exclusively. If I wanted to price it out I'd be long gone from you an' your worthless bond."

This time one of the three backhanded him.

Right. Zwann wiped his mouth. That just doubled your price.

We will discuss cost later, Zwann Bennett. The information you gave me is far from complete. You will now give me the rest and pray I find it sufficient.

The hades I will. I got it, no blather, but I got it without you paid me squelch. I only did that because you're a friend of a friend. You want the rest you pay for it. You pay for it now an' get these flopper-licking stapes out of my sight.

No, Zwann Bennett, that is not what will happen. You will give me what I want now. Master looked at his minions. Hlatshwaye, beat him until he talks. Then you may kill him.

***

That is most disappointing, said Master. "He held his tongue well for a gahina coward weakling."

The three hlatshwaye, blood-spattered and barely breathing hard, immediately fell to their knees and bowed.

Forgive us, great Master.

The man waved his hands dismissively. His failure is not upon you, my loyal ones. Dispose of this meat and cleanse yourselves. Then take his terminal to Valucco.

Yes, Master. The three bowed and spoke in unison.

Chapter 1. Opening Night

Milling throngs of people packed the Chris Steersman Auditorium in Orlain City on the planet of Sapphire. Today's event brought forth men, women and children from that city and others from across the planet. As one the crowd pressed inward toward the firm tables behind which sat a handful of individuals.

I love all your movies and shows, gushed one ecstatic young girl, lucky in having reached her goal. I think you're so polar you could freeze hydrogen!

Why thank you, dear. Melinda 'Mel' Willis, better known as the hard-fighting high-kicking Trixie Slick, signed the small book the girl handed her. Would you like a holo?

"Oh... That would be so pyronic. May I?"

The crowd moved back reluctantly as Willis stepped beyond the table for the holo. More than a few 'casters fired and the young girl looked ready to faint. She didn't and as soon as she left. a dozen more crowded inward.

I love my job, said Willis, eliciting a few cheers.

"You love your fans. Und zo do I. Arn Ironhand, better known to his fans as 'Lethal' Max Mayhem, thundered the last words over the crowd. They cheered and a few shouts of Go lethal on dem" sounded.

On Willis' other side Johan Klaus von Dike scrunched his face into a wicked snarl, rose and spoke. You'll pay for this, Mayhem. In platinum.

That elicited the most cheers of all and a group of fans attired in more villainous cast began a chant of Vor-tex! Vor-tex! Von Dike broke character with a warm grin Arnhand's arch-enemy the Nefarious Doctor Vortex would never have sported, waved and sat down.

Life is good, said Von Dike, turning to sign autographs and pose for holos.

Willis chuckled and turned her attention back to her fans. A momentary spike in the noise along with an aggressive rustle in the crowd drew her attention and that of the security behind them but nothing came of it. The shuffle settled and she relaxed.

Hello there, said Willis.

The wide-eyed young lady standing at the table handed Willis a book somewhat stiffly.

Would you like my autograph, dear? Willis shuffled through the book and found it already had lots of signatures. She continued until she found a blank page near the back. I promise you only my characters bite and then only the bad guys. She smiled.

The young lady coughed and fell forward with blood frothing out her mouth.

***

The red sun of the String-of-Pearls system shone high in the sky of its fourth planet Azure, many of whose inhabitants bustled through the streets. According to the Jeffries Chronometric Standard calendar variant adapted to Azure today marked the first day of a three-day weekend. The sun cared nothing for this. It worked to warm and illuminate the folk there no matter what day or season they deemed it.

Jennifer Stone looked out the window of her favorite restaurant as a figure bundled in a heavy, warm coat entered the main room. Jenn wore a sweater and her two companions had light jackets on the backs of their chairs.

Hel-lo.

The bundle unwrapped itself to disgorge Tracy Newton and Jenn rose to give her a hug.

Hi, Tracy. We're glad you made it.

Me too. Sort of. Charlie and I had plans. Ruddy inconvenient, this. Hi Zoe. Hi Ianthe.

Zoe Celeris and Ianthe Sentius nodded their greetings. Unbeknownst to Newton both of them were assigned to a House Gladius xiphos team of five highly-trained and deadly operatives. The Laird Gaius Octavius Atellus Dulucius of that great and noble house send them to undertake Jenn's protection. Besides that they worked to train her in combat both armed and unarmed. To Newton they were simply two new friends. They both eagerly adopted that role after learning her story from the man who stood fourteenth in line to the Crown of Stars, Prince Gunter.

No blather there, said Jenn. Micah and I were going to rearrange the apartment this week.

Newton wrinkled her face at this. Jennifer, I know Micah is only seven millis short of indestructible but you really should give him at least a little break.

Jenn chuckled. I know, hon, and I did. When he's not working he gets restless very quickly and that's never a good thing.

Truth. Speakinawhich do you know what happened?

Jenn shrugged. You know what I know. I was just awake when Micah came in, kissed me goodbye and said they had to leave immediately. I tried comming Ted and Vera but they were already gone.

The waiter brought drinks and an Imperium set.

At least you got that, said Newton wistfully. All I got was a message from Charlie. 'Urgent assignment. Have to leave now. Back soon, Charlie.' Sometimes he has all the sensitivity of a brick.

Don't worry, dear, said Jenn. You know six-sigmas he'll make it up to you when they all get back.

But, as Jenn set up the board and handed out the player pieces and cards a sliver of curiosity started gnawing on her. Just what emergency had taken her Micah away now?

***

Slib, Ted. What's the bloody emergency? Vera Kidwell sipped her lukewarm tea gingerly, made a sour face and put it down. She considered lighting a drugstick but decided against it. "You said 'Wait until we're in link.' Well, we're in link now. While you're about it tell me why it's an active link. You know how I feel about those."

Micah Stone, former Drop Marine and current League Intelligence agent, washed down the last bite of lunch with his last swallow of chog. He carefully did not grin as he pulled another cup. So far only Rapid Flight Protocol dimmed Kidwell's normally-ebullient personality and it did a six-sigmas outstanding job of it.

Across the table, and not-coincidentally out of Kidwell's reach, Gunter Rene du'Charle Charlie, burnit! Ferrel, blood of royalty and Micah's best friend, sat and sipped his own chog. Before him awaiting consumption sat a too-large and overly-colorful dessert. Formerly a proud member of the League Navy, RFP bothered him not at all.

We have a party to attend. Ted Ionoski, Intelligence veteran of many years and their team leader, carefully placed a garble and datapad on the table. At his touch the latter projected half a dozen complex images.

These are Naval routing and contingency protocols for the Trident and Lost Angels sectors. They are dated but still classified and very sensitive.

Micah and the others examined the images.

Slib, Ted, said Micah, but I don't see anything thermal here. It may be classified but there is nothing a half-competent strategist couldn't deduce.

Truth, agreed Ionoski. "The spiky part isn't the what, it's the where. He tapped the 'pad and a holo of an attractive young lady appeared. The plans were scribed on a circuit strip bound into the spine of a cheap autograph book. Apparently it belonged to this young lady and she died on Sapphire not far from here."

That perked Kidwell's attention. She lit a drugstick and concentrated past her nausea. Howso, Ted? That is not a short track or a straight one.

That, my friends, is what we're to investigate. The local LEOs have the criminal part and we'll get whatever they find. At the time I received my orders that summed up to very little. The bulk of the problem may well lie outside their scope so we have to step carefully and lightly.

But with approval? asked Micah.

With approval and at request, said Ionoski.

Micah nodded. Their last major mission was neither sanctioned nor approved. By its very nature they had to operate below every garble imaginable. Matters turned dire when they discovered the depth of corruption they faced and only turned worse when they ran afoul of the Patrol and a group of its most elite officers: Patrol Rangers. They accomplished their mission but that success ripped open a corrupt government in one sector and sent ripples through three others.

Celestia Dankon, said Ferrel, his terminal now sitting beside his much-diminished dessert. Entered the League on a low-cost passenger tour ship inbound from the Coral Nebula, first League stop Peridot, thence to Sapphire. Said ship departed Sapphire minus Signora Dankon, who tragically died there.

Who was murdered there, corrected Micah. In the middle of a crowd at a movie-signing. Initial medical report credits a knife wound plus a nasty four-way poison. Paralytic, hemotoxic and neurotoxic plus a cytoplegic agent to block stasis just in case the initial wound wasn't fatal. Which it would have been.

Again truth. Ionoski powered down the 'pad. I know Strategy and Planning is withholding some details that will be available once we ground. Ideas?

Failed contact, hypothesized Kidwell. The package was meant for someone else but the original delivery was disrupted.

Possible, said Ionoski, but DOSTRAP doesn't rate that high-sigma.

Stolen information, said Micah. Well, make that twice-stolen. Signora Dankon came upon it during the cruise, by whatever means, and elected to return it to the League. Not necessarily, he added quickly, for altruistic reasons. Perhaps she thought she might collect a reward.

Higher sigma, said Ionoski, "which makes the where even more important."

This data is almost ready to declassify, said Ferrel, but not to distribute. That implies a leak somewhere and if it leaks old data it might just leak new. Or less-old. This might be the best the source could gather.

Or not, said Ionoski. That's the part that has Strategy and Planning upset. There is a third possibility. This data is within an agent's discretion to release provided such a release would benefit the League more than the compromise would hurt. I don't have any particulars on active ops in that area but my briefing did specifically include that annotation.

Mark that as provable and primary, said Ferrel. If that package is discretionary and was used as such that means we're at one end of the leak moving backward. At least one team is moving leak-forward. We should plan to meet in the middle.

That's my thought and DOSTRAP's high-sigma, said Ionoski. Either meet-in-the-middle or we're tracing parallel tracks. If we get close we'll be put in contact.

So we need to work out how to wiggle loose some information without being seen, said Kidwell. Hence the active link. I think I know your plan.

***

In Sparkle City on the planet Amethyst the Stellartorium blazed with the light of several suns, illuminated in its totality despite the fact that Amethyst's own sun had long since set for the evening.

Enormous crowds traversed the breadth of the huge building with each and every person focused on a goal. Some with their evening finished simply wanted to leave, irritated at the crowds delaying them. Others stood and chatted as they worked to savor and lengthen the experience they just had. The smallest group sought out the much-desired company of the crowds in the massive auditorium's restricted upper levels.

Tonight was special. It saw the premiere of Lethal Max XIV: Hijacked! This extended-length feature had Lethal Max Mayhem and his hard-fighting sidekick Trixie Slick working in a totally-unexpected alliance with none other than The Nefarious Doctor Vortex, Mayhem's long-time foe. Mayhem sought to protect and Vortex to capture a naive but brilliant young scientist only to have the luxury starship on which they traveled hijacked far away to the strange and mysterious Luvarzian Empire.

Max carried the day, of course, much to the consternation of Doctor Vortex, yet again. Vortex managed an escape at the last possible second and swore his revenge, yet again. It took very little mental effort to connect the movie to an incident in which a charity cruise to the Semid Federation, whose ship carried Arn Ironhand, Mel Willis, Johan Klaus von Dike and numerous other celebrities, was itself hijacked to the selfsame Luvarzian Empire. Though the actual facts surrounding the incident were far from plentiful it was clear that Ironhand and his fellows played some crucial role in settling the affair. Danny Charles, League-famous colonial and frontier singer and also aboard that cruise, released an album entitled New Stars on the Horizon and dedicated all of its earnings to helping the Semids rebuild. That prompted even more rumors since he also contributed to the Lethal Max XIV soundtrack.

Despite persistent speculation and rumors of the incident on Sapphire the entire cast arrived for the premiere with ample time to spare. Many of the folk trying to work their way upward sought their company if only for a brief moment. When the 'casters and repeaters zoomed in on the stars they all looked quite excited, confident and proud of their work. Still, occasional glances or supposed off-caster moments provided even more fuel for the rumor-factories.

By careful planning and deliberate architecture the VIPs from the top floors had isolated and guarded access to street-level garages without exposure to the newshawks and aces swarming below. Not long after Ironhand and the rest gave their pat speeches to the reporters allowed near them a fleet of luxury hovers left for the most exclusive and glamorous party of the night and likely for weeks to come.

***

Oh, the burdens of duty weigh so heavy at times, said Ferrel.

As if. Kidwell matched her moves to his but let him lead her in an intricate dance across the floor. This should be old helium to you.

Truth, if cruel. He carefully cut off another couple. Save for the perfection of my companion. This is rather fun. Perhaps we should do it more often.

Kidwell's face didn't change but questions popped up in the back of her eyes.

Don't strain yourself, dear, he said. At home these dances are a deci a dozen and I or any other scion could have a cargo ton of invitations did we so desire. Some others do. Truth for blather, most Royal functions would leave this grounded at the 'port.

Now puzzlement joined the questions.

Because as heir-apparent to House Brightcrown with a direct line to the Crown itself and no wife I am a desirable commodity. Don't laugh. Every partner with whom I danced would be carefully planned, schemed over and plotted about. Every belle dame would have an agenda. If not her own then that of her House or Hall. Even the lightest conversation is fraught with double entendre and intrigue. Every word must be weighed against what implication it might spawn or what consequence it might cause. That plus we of the Peerage are expected to be impeccable dancers.

Kidwell chuckled lightly. That reeks.

Ferrel grinned. Indeed so, luv. That's why I hate them and so does Father. At least as a widower he has fewer power-mongers plotting wives for him. I am less fortunate.

Kidwell locked eyes with Micah and squeezed Ferrel's hand. In response he danced them across the paths of three other men striding purposefully across the floor. Resplendent in his League Marine dress black Micah ended the dance with his partner, bowed to her and turned to the lady beside him whose partner had also gone.

May I have this dance, ma'am?

Melinda Willis turned, saw the uniform and smiled. Of course, soldier. I'm...

Willis looked at Micah's face and the music started at the same instant. He swept her into a strong lead and she followed automatically.

I'm honored, he said.

I'm... surprised. Is this about...

Yes. We really needed to talk and all of you have been under a great deal of scrutiny lately. Ted wanted to just show up in your motel room but I convinced him to show some manners.

I told the Patrol on Sapphire everything.

Not quite, ma'am. We saw the interview.

Now tension crept into her shoulders.

We really do need to talk, he said, but not right this instant. If you don't mind I'd like to just enjoy this dance.

Willis laughed genuinely at the sincerity in his request. She'd watched him fight his way through unbelievable odds to save her life and those of many others. Now to hear him ask like a star-struck fan...

Very well, good sirra, she said. Let us dance.

Chapter 2. Behind A Star

I really don't know much, said Willis. I'm assuming you found something in that book I didn't. Either that or the poor girl had a room or a suitcase somewhere. That makes sense considering how the Patrol officers acted.

All of them now sat comfortably in the main room of Willis' suite. Ferrel burned the hotel's net for food, drink and dessert then grumbled when Ionoski made him pay for it.

Something like, said Ionoski. We found sensitive information.

Willis nodded. That makes sense. That wasn't what I saw, though. Surprisingly, she pulled out a pack of 'sticks and lit one. I just... They let me look at the book. Thoroughly. Made me do it, for truth. I don't know if they thought I had something to do with whatever was there but I didn't. She exhaled and swallowed, both hard. I... I read through the autographs and I recognized some of the names there. She fell silent for a long time.

Go on, said Kidwell with subtle sympathy and a bare touch of command.

Willis' eyes filled with distance. "When I was younger. My cousin Janice was about the same age and we both studied at Dad's dojo. She was