32

Solaris

Federated Commonwealth

25 August 3055

The thick, sweet scent of the steaming green tea took the assassin back nearly ten years to an assignment he had successfully carried out within the Capellan Confederation. Looking around the small, ramshackle hut that arrogantly proclaimed itself a restaurant, all he saw now were old Liao expatriates hunched over steaming bowls of noodles. His sources had said this place was a cover for an opium den, and the urgency on the faces of those who gravitated toward the back doorway gave the assassin confirmation of that story.

The deja vuhe felt was not at all pleasant. An agent of Romano Liao had hired him to murder a minor noble who displeased her, and then the Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation had tried to have him killed, too. He had needed every drop of the cunning and resourcefulness that made him so good at his work to get away from her hired killer. Diving back into the crucible did not arouse happy memories.

A shiver ran up his spine, but he flicked it off with a quick roll of his shoulders. Dressed in a dark long coat, the assassin felt secure with a needle pistol hidden at his back and another secreted in a boot top under the wide legs of his woolen trousers. No one knew better than he that it was impossible to make himself invulnerable or invincible, but he counted on his wits to get him out of any unforeseen trouble.

Spotting Fuh Teng in a back booth, the assassin approached him slowly and carefully, then slid into the seat across from him. He studied the room, then settled his gaze on the aged oriental man sitting opposite him. "I am here."

Fuh Teng smiled and bowed his head, upsetting the few white strands of hair lying across his tanned pate. "You will have tea?" The old man poured from the pot on the table, filling the two porcelain cups set out between them.

The assassin accepted the dark liquid and joined Fuh's toast to his health. He tasted nothing odd in the tea, but he knew very well that dozens of poisons that could cripple or kill him in an instant were undetectable by taste. He also knew that if, for some reason, Fuh Teng was setting him up, he'd be dead already.

The old man kept both hands clutched around his cup. "There is a story I would tell you."

"That is not necessary. I do not require to know why you seek my services."

"I will tell it anyway, because you are a businessman, as am I. You see, there was an old man who worked all his life for a noble family. He slaved and made a great fortune for this family, but they did not reward him. The old man was happy in his ignorance of how he was being treated, but then his life changed. In his old age he discovered the youth-giving gift of love, and his lover pointed out the injustices done to him."

The assassin suppressed a smile. So the old man has a gold-digger who wants him to make her rich.

"This old man wished to make up for the years of poor treatment, and began to help himself to greater compensation for his services. Meanwhile his old master died and his master's son has become his employer. His new employer wishes to pension the old man off, but the old man will be exposed when someone is brought in to replace him."

The assassin nodded. "So the old man would like his employer. . ."

"Distracted." Fuh Teng met the assassin's gaze with an unwavering stare. "The old man loves his employer like a son and is ashamed of having hurt him. Had he wished his employer dead, given his employer's line of work, that could easily have been accomplished. He only wants him distracted."

Fuh Teng slid his left hand forward, then pulled it back. On the table lay revealed a large golden coin with Chinese characters encircling the perimeter and impressed into the edge. More important, though, the assassin recognized the profile on the coin. "Candace Liao."

The old man nodded and the pieces began to fit into place for the assassin. If Candace were killed, the blame would immediately fall on her nephew, Sun-Tzu Liao, her sworn enemy and the Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation. Kai, her son, would be forced to assume his role as ruler of the St. Ives Compact, and might possibly even be forced to launch a war that would result in the reunification of the Capellan Confederation and the Compact under his rule.

"It can be done. When?"

"Four months?"

That would make it a quick hit, which he preferred to avoid, but it was possible. "As with anything, it can be done either quickly or cheaply, but not both."

"If you are able to prove to me that the assignment should be yours, and then accomplish the job successfully, you will be paid 3.5 million C-bills worth of corporate stocks, including shares in TharHes Industries and Defiance Industries."

The equal of what I got for the Archon, and paid in defense stocks. Obviously, he wants to ignite a war."Impressive. You are ambitious."

"Frugal. I have been supporting Candace's brother in his posturing and threats against the Confederation for years. He has done nothing but grow fat on my charity. You are a stone with which I can kill two birds."

The assassin nodded. "How should I prove myself to you?"

Fuh Teng shrugged. "On Solaris a man is judged by his last battle."

The assassin shrugged. "That is too bad, because my last job had me working as a florist."

Fuh Teng nodded. "Candace does not like flowers." The old man stood up, exited the booth and bowed. "May your endeavor of the next four months prove fortuitous."

The assassin sipped tea calmly while he waited for the old man to leave the restaurant. He picked up the gold coin and ran his thumbnail over the characters incised into the edge. Candace Liao. She will prove a challenge.He snapped the coin down on the table and left the booth. A worthy challenge.

By the time he reached the door and saw the light drizzle beginning to come down, the assassin had almost completed the transformation to Chuck Grayson. He pulled his collar up and hunched his shoulders against the cold rain. He stepped out into the night, and started across the street.

A sudden shout from his left made him begin to turn that way just as a car on his right squealed on its brakes. The assassin hesitated, part of him refusing to believe that he could be taken down in a simple traffic accident. As the car clipped his right leg, fracturing the thigh and shin, a bolt of agony shot up his spine and exploded out the top of his head.

As he hit the ground, echoes of the pain rippled through him, but he smiled in spite of it. That pain was not enough to hide the sting of the dart he felt in his shoulder, or the knowledge that the pain had been dulled by the drugs in his tea. He had been taken, and taken by professionals.

Unconsciousness did not wipe away his smile. The realization that he had, in fact, proved a worthy challenge to someone else made his sleep quite pleasant.

33

Arc-Royal

Federated Commonwealth

25 August 3055

Nelson Geist held his head high despite the fatigue making every muscle and bone of his body ache. Though he was not in chains and the Kell Hound infantrymen leading him down the corridor did not handle him unkindly, neither was he being treated as a free man. In some ways he had known more liberty with the Red Corsair, and with that thought the steel band on his wrist began to chafe.