Koreshi Chronicles - Chapter VI: The Prodigal Daughter Returns

1 Autumn, 1926

Lyta had almost managed to forget how bad Khayr ad-Din smelled. After the lush jungle scents of Junira Loresh, returning to the refuse city was an assault on the senses. At least she wouldn’t need to be there long.

Inside Hotel Bravo, the smell was lessened, and Lyta was grateful for the brief respite. Bill Pearce met her as she entered; she suspected there was a special facial-recognition program somewhere in the Nexus computers keyed specifically for her and her brothers. When they showed up, things started exploding, both figuratively and literally. So it was little surprise that she had barely made it past the lobby when she came face-to-face with Hotel Bravo’s manager.

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Koreshi Chronicles - Chapter VI: Dealing with the Devil, part 2

Lyta walked with barely more enthusiasm than a gallows prisoner and reminded herself that she’d wanted this. She’d sat in Doc Chambers’ office and asked, practically begged, for him to let her see Geddy. But now, as they descended into the under-levels of Hotel Bravo, she wanted nothing more than to bolt back to her room, lock the door, and stay there until she and Todd left for Junira Loresh.

She wanted to, but she wouldn’t. Lassanders went forward. Even into the arms of psychopathic madmen.

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Koreshi Chronicles - Chapter VI: Dealing with the Devil, part 1

19 Summer, 1926

Dr. Tomohiro Chambers' cigar extended its grey arm of ash ever further as he skimmed papers in front of him. “Preliminary Interrogation Report: Geddy Jay Gordon,” read the header. The contents were much as he’d expected: volatile; prone to digressions and extended metaphors, particularly those graphic or violent in nature; unprovoked outbursts of anger; and so on. His people had not been able to obtain much in terms of concrete data beyond what they’d known already, which was disappointing. Still, he had been in custody barely two days, and there was still plenty of time to get answers.

Chambers’ eyes lingered over the middle of the second page, a paragraph entitled “New Queen.” Geddy’s anecdotes repeatedly turned back towards a woman he described as his “new queen,” the woman who would replace his old, broken queen to sit at his side and rule the underworld. Chambers read through the description with increasing interest. The report strung together fragmentary references to Geddy’s “marble bride” with her “hair like gold needles, sharp enough to draw blood” and “eyes the blue of diamonds that glint out of the hard rock.” He referenced how fluidly she danced, “like a stream that flows in the riverbed, so calm and welcoming on the surface, while in the darkness it cuts gashes in the rock that holds it in its embrace.” Geddy spoke about how his queen would dance for him at court, how happy they would both be, how they would subdue anyone who stood in their path.

Doc Chambers let a fine stream of smoke curl up from his lips. It was obvious who Geddy was referring to. The question was what reaction she would provoke on Geddy, and how he could raise the topic with her now that her brother had turned down his request for employment.

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Koreshi Chronicles - Chapter VI: What Must Be Done

18 Summer, 1926

“You have to kill him.”

“I don’t have to do anything of the sort.”

Lyta held back a scowl. She’d suspected the Doc would be less than sympathetic to her petition. Still, he’d at least agreed to meet with her. She took a deep breath. “Look, if I’d had thirty more seconds back there before Delacroix grabbed him and drove off, Geddy would already be dead, and we wouldn’t need to have this conversation.”

The Doc steepled his hands over the small pile of papers on his desk. “But you didn’t, and so he is still alive. And in my custody.”

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Koreshi Chronicles - Chapter VI: Listening Ears

18 Summer, 1926

Kastin Hassan found her by practically tripping over her.

Lyta had been planning to go to the cafeteria after her conversation with Doc Chambers, to get an early breakfast and watch the sunrise from the oasis tower’s bay windows. That plan had broken down somewhere near the bottom of the staircase, and she’d sat with her head pressed up against the wall for the better part of an hour, her body hunched and her arms around her knees.

“Hey, watch where you’re—” Karin cut herself off mid-sentence as she saw what, or more precisely whom, she’d stumbled over. “Lyta,” she said softly.

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Koreshi Chronicles - Chapter VI: Who Cons the Con Men?

18 Summer, 1926

Lyta glared at the ceiling. Her head throbbed against the pillow, and the minimal light coming in through the windows hurt her eyes. But no matter how hard she tried to sleep, to shut out the world and everybody in it at least for a few hours, her mind refused to settle, and the ceiling taunted her by its continued presence.

She wanted to punch something. The ceiling seemed to be a canvas for the faces of everyone who’d wronged her recently: Kinross and Geddy and Jimmy and Virgil and all the rest of them. The adrenaline and the anger kept her awake, and her fists clenched and unclenched against the bedsheets. She almost welcomed the anger. If she was angry, she could forget that she was terrified.

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Koreshi Chronicles - Chapter V: Last Call

2 Spring, 1926

The Lucky Shot Casino, like so many casinos, never truly closed. Oh, there were quiet periods, and morning would find the gambling floors nearly deserted, but there would always be a dealer or a bartender ready to take your money if you wanted to gamble or drink it away. Now that the dueling matches were done for the night, most of the regulars had left, drifted to their homes or their hotel rooms to sleep halfway until siesta, only to get up and do it all again tomorrow. The only ones left were the die-hards and the sorry souls who found comfort in the mock-anonymous privacy of the gambling floor.

Lyta wasn't generally a VIP lounge sort of person. It reminded her uncomfortably of family life before the war, before the CEF, when her parents had taken her to luxury establishments as a matter of course. She had been too young, then, to realize that not everyone dined on fine Polar foods or had private boxes at concerts. She knew better now. But she and her brothers had been given the royal treatment for a night -- Lyta still wasn't sure precisely why -- and it seemed easier to stay sitting at the lounge's raised bar with its panoramic view of the city than to find the lift back to her room.

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The Counselling Of Others

When the doors cracked open on the office the sense of excitement and purpose was as palpable as the smoke billowing out.

He was glad that from this point on it would be carried by people who could inspire others, people like Ben and Maia, leaders with a talent for inspiring others. A skill Tom knew he himself did not possess, but he knew how to challenge the right people and they would do the rest.

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The Other Council pt 2

The Doc reached into his jacket and withdrew a three-tube leather humidor. Removing one of the two cigars still inside he took a moment to sweep it under his nose, enjoying the fresh and spicy smell of tobacco. He replaced the case and pulled a blade from his sleeve, like a magic trick. The tip came off the cigar and found its way into his hand and then his pocket; his hand re-emerged with a box of matches which he proceeded to use.

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Profiling the Tin Man

MEDICAL LOG
02 Summer 1935

Dr T.M. Chambers

ONGOING PSYCHIATRIC LOG:
PATIENT: Kain Delacroix

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The Other Council pt 1

Tom was looking at the scrawled note in his hands, they were shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous, or anxious, he couldn’t decide which.

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Group Therapy

once again she awoke to the sound of screaming, as usual it was her own. She caught her breath and willed herself to slow her racing heart and when she was almost in control, her stomach went through the floor and great heaving sobs shook her violently. She nearly suffocated herself in her pillow trying to suppress the sounds of her lamenting.

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We'll have to wait and see...

They met in a darkened alley two blocks from the station. Their long coats casting longer shadows.

“How did it go?" the shorter man asked.

“Good, it won’t hold up to any scrutiny, but it should give him time to get away and disappear.” The duster emphasised the larger man’s build. Both clung to the shadows threateningly.

“I wish he had let us do it our way,” whispered the first man, looking around for anyone who might have followed his counterpart.

“I made a good pitch. I just don’t think he’s inclined to owing us a favour. I even tried to sweeten your offer a bit.”

“Oh?” said the smaller man as they started moving through the dark streets. The two wraiths flattened against a wall at the sound of an approaching vehicle.

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The Kingmaker

Spirits were running high in the Saracens' club, the Keep. Kaly Laing felt that her gang had come out of this whole ordeal better off; their main rivals, the Forzi, had been crushed, the gang was flush with weapons and munitions to hold their ground and the new alliance with the Guild, although still hard to define, made her feel like things were going their way.

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Of gratitudes and debts.

Sirens rang out in the distance. Everywhere you looked were signs of the aftermath of the unrest of the last few days.

The storm shield had been closed for only 72 hours, benighting the curfewed city but the sense of relief once it had been retracted was at potent as Helios’ rays.

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Enjoy your victory Sundra Gabriel

The screen shows the smoke billowing high into the sky, ash grey against the cement background of the second terrace wall rising above. The view jerks and pans. There are still flames, constant fires up high but also rivulets pouring down in spurts. Papers fall like confetti, a ticker-tape parade, a celebration of pandemonium.

Enjoy your victory Sundra Gabriel, enjoy what is left of your short life because I am coming for you.

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A Crisis of Doubt

Kain walked through the office doors armed with a scathing remark that had come to him as he sat alone over breakfast. He found his target missing and after collecting a mug of cawfee he had soon covered the entire B.C.G. offices in search of his quarry to no avail. Annoyed and bored - a state he seemed to be in most of the time of late - he walked into Tom’s office.

“Where’s Vemeer? I had something to say to him.”

“I gave him the day off, he’s been working hard.”

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How to go behind someone's back to get their trust

It was going to be one of those days. She just knew it.

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The End.

Kain was walking down the halls of the palace diplomatic wing. The vaulted ceilings and gilded mouldings struck him as gaudy and offensive. He hated the palace. In fact, he was becoming increasingly intolerant of the E.S.E. as a whole.

He resented being there. He berated Ben for going down there on some foolish mission and begrudged him for getting caught and forcing Kain to come to his rescue. He disapproved of the Emirs, the populists as much as the demagogues, each in their own way. He despised the entitlement of the elite and the subservience of the sajhalin. And he had nothing but contempt for the arm-chair rebels devoid of initiative and good honest bravery.

Even the bravado of the tunnel forlorn hope, who had all died save one, was inspired by religious servility to their emir, not out of martial courage or enlightened self interest.

If all that wasn’t enough, the E.S.E was hot, humid and smelly. A swamp with little or no charm wrought by violent turmoil and undignified slaughter. In short, he hated it there.

He let himself into the Doc’s room, privacy and individual space has long since become irrelevant amongst the wary traveling band. Chambers was sunk into a pouf; an overstuffed, spineless thing typical of E.S.E. couches and to Kain’s mind, they’re people. He was enveloped in a thick cloud of grey smoke coming from a double corona in his right hand; in his left, he held a bottle.

“Where did you find the cigars” Kain said nudging a box with the end of his steel caped boots.

“I liberated them from the Emir’s tower. I don’t think Bhravo should be smoking at his age anyway. Have one, Thoras had remarkably good taste in cigars but his taste in whiskey was terrible.”

“But drinkable”

“Only to get drunk on, I swear I haven’t enjoyed a single drop.”

“I’ll come back later Doc, when you’re sober”

“If you wait for that, it might be too late. What’s up Kain, I’m not that far gone?” He put down the bottle, dropped the rest of his cigar in and capped the smoke-filled bottle before tossing it aside. He reached into a box and withdrew another cigar which he proceeded to prepare with practiced hands.

“I’m leaving.”

“The room? Or..”

“The palace, the ESE, this whole scene. Maia left this morning, Gade is heading out again. He said he didn’t want to risk what was left of his skin on the Raleigh stash; he has Bart to think about. I can’t fault him that.”

“So now you’re going too. Well I don’t see why you would stay. You always had your own agenda to attend to.”

“That’s why I’m here, I want you to come with me. I don’t know what you have going on here with the Emir? I know you offered your services…”

“And was unceremoniously rejected. Apparently he has some use for me, but it won’t be in front of a camera and it won’t buy my reputation back.”

“Your reputation may be the problem Doc. You’re not exactly a trustworthy public figure these days and it’s hard to come back from that image. You’ve got to see that too? You’re not going to be wheeling and dealing like you used to, those days are gone.”

There was a long silence. Tom Chambers had fallen from grace in an epic way in the last 4 cycles. The Lelland Endowment and the Meredith foundation were incorporated into larger city state social programmes. The Guidebank was nationalised by NuCoal, that same organisation blamed Chambers publicly for sedition and complicity in mass murder in Lance Point. His empire building days were gone, he had held an unrealistic hope that he could start over in the E.S.E., at the right place at the right time and with the right contacts, but Terra Nova was too small to forget Tom Chambers so soon.

“So what can I do for you Kain? A medic, a sniper?”

“I have no patience for you self pity Doc, you’re a schemer, a natural organiser and a born strategist. You can do what you do best, just behind the scenes, out of the limelight and for a greater purpose.”

“Greater than what? NuCoal could be the start of an equatorial power Kain, a counterbalance to polar bellicosity. It’s the most important thing I’ve ever done for Terra Nova or could ever do.”

“Except save Terra Nova. The NEC is still around, still networking, still planning to finish what they started. Everyone else has forgotten, they’ve gone back to their petty rivalries. But I know Doc, I know what the NEC has been up to because I never forgot what they did to us and what they’re capable of. I’ve been doing this for 15 cycles, trust me.”

“So you want me to help you hunt them down.”

“I need you to help me defeat them. I can’t keep taking them out one by one, it hasn’t gotten me anywhere. I need to figure out how they work, what they’re plan is and establish a bulwark against it. Those are things you could help me with.”

“You didn’t want to work with me after the Arens affair, what’s changed?”

“You. Back then you were still too arrogant and too bent on building an empire. I’m talking about fighting a war. You don’t have anything to loose now Doc and everything to gain. To put it simply, I think you are now capable of taking your ego out of the equation.”

Tom smoked quietly. Kain was right, on many scores - probably all. Tom had lost everything he had built that propped up his ego. Now he was free of all that, free to organise a resistance for a war no one wanted to acknowledge was coming. Kain was right, too much of Tom’s ego had been wrapped up in everything he did. With his reputation gone, he was free to operate with only one objective: doing what was necessary and what was right.

“OK Kain. I'm your man."

"Took you long enough."

"Fuck you very much."

"C'mon, let’s blow this shit hole.”

A New Dawn

High in the palace tower Doc Chambers sat in an oversized leather cushion on the veranda of the former Emir’s suite. Spread out bellow him was the chaos of civil revolt and social revolution. By now all of Okavanga knew Thoras to be dead, by sunrise; the whole world would know Okavango had joined the ESE rebellion.

Maia stepped out on the balcony near where the Doc had slumped down. The predawn scape sprawled out before her was backlit by an orange glow still too faint to diminish the brightly burning fires of the night’s pandemonium.

“Where is everybody?” she asked the Doc.

“Sam and Gade are out there, in the streets, mopping up Thoras loyalists. Kain went over to security, he said something about a personal mission debrief, I don’t know?”

She nodded distractedly, drawing her gaze away from the grizzly sight of Okavango’s recent travails, The Doc looked tired, the focus he had during the recent operation was gone.

“How about you, what are you doing?”

“Waiting.”

“For?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t know yet Maia. I guess I’m waiting to see what I do next. How about you, what are you waiting for?”

“I don’t follow.”

“We’re done, our friends are out, Thoras is dead, Brahvo the new Emir and Oka will join Basel in the revolt. We’re done and so we’re done with you. You’re free, I’ve already contacted Paxton to tell them to dissolve the Demonstration Team.”

Thoughts spun in Maia's head and she slumped onto a cushion next to Chambers, too tired even to remember that she was supposed to be mad at him for getting her into this mess in the first place. The last few weeks had been the most difficult in her life, even counting the seasons fighting the Keff. At least then, they'd had a real sense of purpose and a stark simplicity: everything was black and white. Now, everything was as grey as the swamps before the dawn.

She forced herself not to sigh and stared directly forward, down at the burning fires of Okavango. "You were behind that, then. I suppose I should have known."

She shook her head, trying to make sense of everything and failing miserably. "I suppose I'll go home. I've wanted to go home since I stepped foot in Basal, and now there's no reason for me to stay." She paused a moment, doing math in her head, and this time she did sigh. "Damn. I missed my anniversary down here. My wife will never forgive me."

For an instant, the thought flashed in her mind that she would have to tell Celina about everything that had happened, and she felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She let her breath out slowly. That was a problem she could deal with later.

To distract herself, she faced the Doc. "You're from the Badlands, aren't you? You gonna go back? See your family?"

“I don’t have anything waiting for me in the Badlands, well, nothing I would consider a homecoming. At best I can expect criminal charges and a fixed trial, at worst; they stick a knife in my back while I sleep. Sorry I got you into this Kessler, I'm a user, a professional exploiter. Heh, I guess now that I've killed the Emir I can add political assassin to my resume, next to selfish missionary and mass murderer.”

Maia scoffed before she could stop herself. "And now you've fucked up my life, too. Thanks, Chambers."

She looked out over the fires of Okavango to avoid catching the Doc's eyes. Then the air went out of her. "I'm sorry. That was cruel. And not even true, not really. I'll bounce back from this. If I play my cards right, I can..." She shook her head. "I don't know what I'll do, but I can make this work. You, though..." The words trailed off again as she considered what Chambers had just told her. "That's quite the pile of shit you've gotten yourself into."

"Don't worry about me, the one thing I have going for me is an over-abundance of self pity, I don't need yours. Anyway, While I don't know what to do about my situation just yet, I can help yours. What do you want Kessler, a promotion? Are you trying to prove yourself professionally of just socially because they may be mutually exclusive? Climbing the social ladder means getting more and doing less, the corporate ladder on the other hand, means working more but getting less recognition. I've got contacts, I have strings I can pull and money I can throw around. Consider it severance for the troubles I've cause you and yours. So what do you want?"

Maia shook her head. "Thanks, but no thanks, Doc. I appreciate the offer, but I got where I am under my own power, and if I get anywhere else, it'll be by my own power too. And if I stay stuck where I am, it's still more than my parents ever had, and maybe Tanya'll go farther than me."

She said it with conviction, and she meant it, but a thought tugged at the back of her mind. She knew, wholeheartedly, that she didn't want to accept favours from Doc Chambers. Somehow, she sensed that getting embroiled with him would come back and bite her. Still...

Her brow furrowed, as conflicting desires played out. "Actually..."

The Doc stared at her levelly, waiting for her to continue.

Maia took a deep breath, let it out again. "My wife, Celina. I've been trying to get her promoted for years. I thought that after we got married..." She shook her head. "It didn't work. The systems are too new, everything's too untested. Hell, sometimes I feel like a lab rat myself. Anyway, she always seems to be just below the cut-off, every year."

She put a hand to her forehead, remembering. She'd finally convinced Celina to do the training and take the exams about seven cycles back, when Tanya was first starting school, even though she knew her wife wanted nothing more than to stay at the hospital with her friends. The scene in the house the day the promotions were announced and Celina's name wasn't on it... it was a good thing Maia was sent on assignment the next day, because she was sure she'd be sleeping on the couch for at least a season.

She shook her head, bringing herself back to the present, to the swamps and the fires and her potential patron. "So that's it. That's what I want."

He held her gaze a moment and, to her shock, he began to laugh; a laughter emanating from deep within. Maia started to shake with anger; she could barely contain herself, his laughter stabbed at her, at that moment she could not imagine having been more insulted or more deeply betrayed in her life.

Tom caught sight of Maia's demeanour and it sobered him up like a stim. He didn't need Sam's uncanny ability to read people to see she was deeply offended, even livid.

"I'm sorry Maia, don't take this the wrong way. I'm not laughing at you or your request..." he croaked as he wiped tears from his eyes. " I offered you anything within my not inconsiderable power and you ask for something for someone else. I know you benefit from her happiness, but by the Prophet's graces...I guess I haven't met someone who cared about someone else as much in such a long time. I was just a little overwhelmed. You're request brightened my day Maia, hell, my cycle. Not only because it is so damned selfless, but because it is so damned simple. Consider it done. You have my word on it. Merciful sands! It almost rekindles my faith in love and redemption in the world."

Maia turned to stare at Doctor Chambers. "Thank you," she said, not trusting herself to say any more. "So darned simple," he had said. If only it were! But there was no trace of guile, no sense that he would have any trouble doing what she had been unable to do for nearly a decade.

It took several moments before she felt comfortable speaking again. "And what about you, since we're all putting our souls on the table?" she asked finally. "Now that your friends are free and there's no reason for you to stay here, what do you want?"

“I’ve got to figure something out to save myself, what we did here last night is only the beginning for me. In the spirit of exposed our souls, let me share an insight into my person with you Maia, I only know how to do two things well: Shoot people and build organizations. The first one got me into this jam and I’m hoping the second will get me out. So I guess I’ll stick by Brahvo a while and see what I can do?”

Maia nodded, still uncertain how to speak to the Doc. She was remembering some of her apprehensions when she had met him for the first time, the way he threw out references to ‘Gerry’, as if president Simosa was a personal friend. Sitting here in the Emir’s tower, having toppled a city state, she had to admit to herself that maybe he could do what he said. And now he was going to help Brahvo.

She wanted to shift the conversation away from his emotions and guilt. The callousness she had seen in him after the food riots, that hollow darkness which had so repelled her was part of him, but she felt he resented them as much as she did. Following their slow raft ride into Okavango, she had thought he was decent man, she felt that again now. “So, what’s your plan?”

“Short term? Well Gade’s got some scheme in Raleigh that should score some material for the fight. Also, some kind of coordinated diplomatic meeting is going to have to take place between Brahvo and Shirow, I think I can swing that. Long Term, the free Emirate will need ties and supplies to keep it fighting. But I think more importantly it will need breathing room. So far the AST hasn’t come down on this situation with its full might. If I can figure out how to keep it that way, or better yet, how to get the AST to back off and look at this as an internal matter for the ESE, the free Emirates may actually stand a chance.”

The sat in silence for a while. At last the dawn shone brightly and they both squinted looking out on the city, the fires were still there, but faded in comparison.

“Sun’s up” Maia said for no particular reason.

“Time for you to go home Maia.”