17 August 3055
The assassin briefly debated whether or not he would have to kill Judith Calley. Though she knew him only as Chuck Grayson and apparently suspected nothing amiss, she might have picked up unconsciously on clues that could come back to haunt him later. After the time he had spent as Karl Kole, keeping so much to himself, the intimacy of their relationship was a welcome contrast. All the passions he had kept pent up as Kole erupted in their affair.
He realized that continuing to spend time with Jude was dangerous, but he forced his worries away and locked them in the dark recesses of his mind. He was not working, so his normal level of caution was not necessary. He could fully devote himself to becoming Chuck Grayson. He got pleasure and a sense of belonging unlike anything he had ever known when he made his approach to Kai Allard-Liao's managers and was rebuffed. Ronda slowly began to sour on Allard-Liao because of the way they treated Chuck, and John accepted him into the fold once his failure meant Grayson was no longer a threat to John's domination of the group.
He felt normal and even more than that. He could, of course, never forget who and what he was, but it was becoming easier to distance himself from it. He willingly engaged in heated debates about who had really been behind the death of the Archon and whether or not Prince Victor had killed his father. After seeing the first of a series of interviews Victor gave the media, he even took to defending the Prince. This did not make him overly popular with some folks from the Lyran sector of the Federated Commonwealth, but those from the Federated Suns area often bought him drinks and invited him to visit them in their homes if he ever got out that way.
For nearly a month he thought very little about work. Indeed, he had earned enough from the hit on the Archon that he'd never need to accept another assignment. That had, in fact, been his motivation for taking on the Archon's assassination, but as time went by, he began to feel the urge to work again. He was definitely enjoying his time as Chuck Grayson, but he was notChuck Grayson and the person he was neededanother job.
The same part of him that had urged caution at his slipping into the Grayson persona shifted and immediately began to argue that he should not look for a new job. The assassin realized that part of his urge came from all the theories concerning Melissa's death that were running wild. Everyone, from a mad florist to organized crime, to Kurita assassins to Recom-terrorists, had been credited with the kill—everyone except for him!That buffeted his ego, yet revealing his identity to soothe his bruised ego was a short road to ending up dead.
On the other hand he knew that performing another hit might give those in the know, the Intelligence Secretariat and other similar governmental bodies, enough clues to realize that a very good assassin was at work. Actually, he told himself, it wouldn't be the clues, but the lack of them that would key them to the fact that the Archon's assassin had struck again.
Ego overruling logic, and thumb covering the camera lens that would record his picture, he called a message drop from a payvis. He'd compiled an identification code based on the combined date, time, and temperature divided by a constant that only he and the computer at the other end of the line knew. He punched in that code, then hit two buttons on the visiphone console, feeding the computer the access number for the booth where he sat. He then severed the connection, looked at his chronometer, and waited.
If he had any messages, the computer would call back. He would have to enter a new check code and he would be given the message or be connected with one of his contacts who could give him details of any prospective employment. If no call came within five minutes, either he had no messages or it was not possible to make a connection with the other party wishing to speak with him.
He glanced at his chronometer, then read the public access newsbytes scrolling up on the idle screen. Kai Allard-Liao had successfully defended his title yet again. His string of victories had long since eclipsed the mark set by his father and even the one established by his father's mentor, Gray Noton. As with almost all the stories concerning the Solaris champion, the writer speculated that he might be leaving the Game World soon to pursue other endeavors.
When the visiphone suddenly bleated at him, he covered the camera before hitting a button to accept the call. A face appeared on the screen that he recognized as Kevin Chen—a contact who had gotten him one job in the Capellan Confederation that had turned out well. "A man wishes to speak with you. It will pay as well as your last job and offers some of the same perks without the same risks. A week?"
The assassin frowned. Jude and her group would be leaving in a week. In the past he would never have pushed a meeting back because of something like a final party with friends, but then he'd never really had friends before. It could wait. "Eight days."
"Done."
"Who will I be meeting?"
"Don't worry, he checks out."
"I worry. Who?"
Chen looked uneasy and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Fuh Teng."
"Message me details."
The assassin broke the connection and opened the door to the booth. Fuh Teng:He had been Kai Allard-Liao's manager ever since the warrior first came to Solaris, and had managed the family's stable of fighters on Solaris since his early partnership with Justin Allard. Whoever he wants dead will not be easy to kill.
The assassin smiled to himself and laughed in a way that would have made Chuck Grayson shiver. But with me doing the job, whoever it is will die well.
31
DropShip
Tigress
Pirate Jump Point, Zanderij
Federated Commonwealth
20 August 3055
Knowing the Red Corsair was planning to jump soon, Nelson Geist did not fully seat the earphones for his journey into the computer-reality. He wanted to be able to hear the three-tone signal warning that jump was imminent beyond the sounds of the artificial world. When it came suddenly, he braced himself on the treadmill railing and moved his feet to the sides of the rubber tread.
He pulled off his helmet and hung it on the corner of the railing, then swung under and sat down on the ground. Hugging his knees to his chest, Nelson concentrated on breathing. In, out. Jumping isn'tthat bad.He screwed his eyes shut and felt his stomach lurch as the ship entered hyperspace.
The universe compacted itself into the size of a pin-head, which then seemed to lodge at the base of his skull. He saw visions of everything happening at once, as if time had been stripped away. In those visions he suddenly grasped the key to all of reality. For a single nanosecond he and the universe were one, and realization of that fact brought with it a glimmering of hope that he had not known since his capture.
Then the universe exploded back to its full dimensions and he felt pain as the explosion lasered up and down his spine. For the barest of moments he feared the ship had made a misjump and ended up in whatever ethereal limbo waited for starships with faulty jump drives. But opening his eyes he realized that all was well, and somewhere at the back of his mind, he caught and held on to a wisp of the hope he had discovered in the moment of the jump.