Tyche's Demons_A Space Opera Military Science Fiction Epic by Richard Parry

Author:Richard Parry [Parry, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mondegreen
Published: 2018-04-22T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

GRACE SIGHED WITH the weight of it all. Her father, back in her life, as welcome as cancer. He’d been a thing on her to-do list, but Grace had put him aside while they dealt with more important issues. Like the Empire and saving humanity from being eaten by locusts.

Now, dear ol’ Dad was back. She looked at Chinnery, then turned to Chad and said, “We need to get him to jail. Chinnery’s been dealing with my father. You know Kazuo Gushiken.”

Chad nodded. “He puts the ass back in hole.”

“So, we’re throwing Chinnery in the dungeons?” said Kohl.

“Metaphorically. No dungeons here,” said Grace. “It’s a Guild Hall, not a prison.”

“I’ll think of something,” said Kohl, in a way that suggested he’d already thought of something. “There’s a place I know. Need to take an air car.”

“Fine,” said Grace. “Let’s go.”

They walked the long length of Chinnery’s office, and Grace spared a thought for how many coins something like this had cost, just so the head of the Guild could impress people with it. It was theatre, but good theatre. You knew the weight of klicks of nano-forged line were strung above you, a gravity elevator into the hard black. Most folk figured it was sorcery that kept it up, and Grace counted herself among their number. She had no clue how it worked, just that the Guild freighted tonnes of materials up and down it. It lent a sense of occasion to a visit to Chinnery, or whoever would replace her father’s string puppet in this office.

Her boots clacked on the polished smoothness of the floor, and while she was no louder than anyone else, she wanted the noise to go. Grace wanted to be invisible again, to wear a mask, because masks and hiding had kept her from his grasp. Kazuo Gushiken felt he owned her, and while he would be disappointed on that point, Grace reckoned Kazuo would leave a trail of bodies a klick wide if that’s what it took to get to her.

As they reached the doorway to the antechamber, Grace felt a surge of fear/terror/run from below, a hundred minds at once, all feeling the same way. She looked at Nate. “Something’s happening.”

He frowned. “Something like a birthday party?”

“Something like people being murdered,” said Grace. Nate couldn’t feel what others felt. Nor could Chad. Grace’s original, stunted gift, still bombarding her with the pain of others. She broke into a jog, unsheathing her sword. The doorway from the antechamber opened without a hitch, no alarms raised, no lockdown evident. Does the Guild even have a lockdown protocol? A bunch of Engineers didn’t go to war often, but Grace would have factored on some kind of security. But nothing. The fear/terror/run/run/run grew louder and louder in her mind, overlaying the concern/protect from Nate.

The antechamber led to a long corridor, bathed in bright sunlight from the floor to ceiling windows along its length. Outside, Grace could see no telltales of smoke, no people running for their lives.

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