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Don’t go there.My attempt to coax myself to ignore what I felt was so useless. I was already there. Arrived, pitched a tent, and camping out until...
Until when? My mind could not, would not, allow me to answer the question for myself. I was stuck. I attempted to get unstuck by reminding myself of why I was here, in the basement of an opera house listening to the voices in the next area. No matter what happened concerning Klinn and me, we needed to finish this investigation. I pressed forward, following the voices farther in the alcove.
***
KLINN
Istayed outside theopera house towards the back, watching. There was nothing out here but a chilly wind and the tipsy laughter of people out for the evening. I started to wonder if we followed the wrong lead, and that tonight was just another night at the opera. I hoped Faye was having better luck inside than me.
As I continued my surveillance, a movement caught my attention in the periphery of my vision. I turned my gaze and felt a spark of recognition at a lone figure coming from the side of the street. It was one of the traders Faye met at the bar in Malecor.
I pressed against the wall of the opera house and stayed silent. The cold metal façade of the building bit into my clothes. I saw from a distance as the trader made his steps imprecise, shuffling one way and then another like he was out for a drunken stroll. Pedestrians walked right past him, not noticing as he patiently waited to duck behind an alley next to the opera house, away from the security monitors panning the building out front.
I counted beneath my breath the seconds since he went down the alley. Once I made it to thirty-three seconds, my ears noticed a sound. I moved completely in the shadows as the trader’s head emerged over the wall separating the opera house from the alley. He shimmied one leg over the wall, and then the other. His push off the edge was abrupt. I heard the hard thud of his landing, followed by a low curse.
I continued to watch from my hiding place as he staggered to his feet and made his way toward the back of the building. I stopped breathing, using the reserves from my other pair of lungs to supply oxygen while I studied him. He rambled over to a patch of brown grass and stood over it, legs spread wide.
At first, I thought he was going to take a piss. Then he squatted to open a hidden grate in the ground. He flung the patch of dead grass, a covering for the grate, to the side and stepped down into the hole. He returned the grate to its place.
Interesting.
I counted to sixty before I left my position against the wall. I gave it another thirty before I walked towards the patch of grass and listened in case the trader was still hanging out below. After another ninety seconds of not hearing anything, I moved the grate. My vision revealed a set of stairs descending into the depths of the opera’s basement level.
I rested my hand on my knee while I contemplated what I was about to get into. Now would be a wonderful time to be able to contact Faye and let her know what I found. But who had to be the ass and toss her com link out the hovercar window last week? Going through this and not knowing what was at the other end was going to be the price I paid for my quick decisions.
Here goes another one.
Taking one last glance at the night sky, I returned the grate to its place. What discoveries was Faye making? Waiting for her outside the opera house was the safer choice. But going after the trader was essential. If he was headed Faye’s way, I needed to protect her.
I set off, my steps getting faster once my eyes adjusted to the dark and my night vision kicked in. The race to uncover the truth had begun, and I wasn’t going to stop until it ended one way or the other.
***
FAYE
As I crept furtherinto the lower level of the opera house, my steps became more cautious, mindful of the echoing clicks my heels made against the cold cement floor.You had to wear get the cute shoes to go with the dress, didn’t you?I chastised myself as I strained to keep my movements quiet.
I shifted my weight and began walking on the balls of my feet, ensuring each step was as silent as possible. The discomfort was a small price to pay for keeping stealth.
The voices ahead of me grew louder, guiding me towards their source. I followed the path until it came to the end of the hall. It presented me with a choice. Two doors stood before me, one bathed in a faint light. I peeked through the slightly ajar door on the left.
My pulse leaped to my throat as I recognized two traders from my encounter at the bar in Malecor. I dropped to a crouch and crawled, hand over hand, to a concealed area in the corner behind musty wardrobe racks and big cases of what I assumed were other stage props. Once I settled behind them, I dared to peek around the cases. I nearly gasped when two more figures came into view at the front of the room.
Gravix and Zorbluk were present. Their respective diminutive and large forms stood, huddled while they diligently stacked crates near a table. A laser rifle sat propped on the edge.
"Careful with that crate, Hultin. You nearly dropped it," Zorbluk admonished him with his gruff voice.
Hultin, I noticed, was the same trader who days ago jokingly told me he enjoyed the opera. He took visible note of the size difference between himself and the seven-foot Lorgan and chuckled nervously. "I got it, I got it. No need to worry, big guy."
Gravix, his voice laced with sarcasm, chimed in. "We're not worried about you. Just the fate of Riven’s entire operation resting on those precious xenite ores."
I held my breath as I eavesdropped. My suspicions of their loyalty to Klinn were confirmed. I thought they just made off with his ship and the money. Never did I think Gravix and Zorbluk’s betrayal would be them working for Klinn’s enemy.
I squinted in the dim light to see the contents of one of the crates closest to me. The faint strains of silver glinted against the moss green xenite ore.
The traders laughed, their amusement mingling with the tension in the room. I knew nervous laughter when I heard it. It was a façade of friendship concealing the darker truths that bound them together.
"Ah, burns so good." One of the traders took a swig from a brown liquor bottle. He wiped his mouth using the back of a dirty hand, smearing a stain across his mouth. "We shoulda grabbed a crate of this while we were holed up in Malecor waiting on Riven's signal."
