Blaedergil's Host by C.M. Simpson (reading well .TXT) 📕

odds that wouldn’t happen. If Sandoval felt disappointed, he didn’t show it.

In fact, he didn’t show anything. He remained ominously quiet, and I hoped he hadn’t found a reason to pay Tens and Mack any more attention than he was paying me—except maybe Mack, because, in Mack’s case, I hoped Sandoval was making sure Mack got the medical treatment he needed. With that thought in my head, I lay down and closed my eyes, wishing I had the Zakrava, or Blazer, or something else close to hand.

20—Contractual Negotiations

Time blurred into a pattern of sleeping and waking. Without access to the implant, I couldn’t keep track of how long had passed, so I had to rely on a routine of sleep, exercise, and san to try and track when I needed to eat. I already knew hunger could be brought on by boredom.

I don’t know how long I spent alone, but I do know I was half-way through a defensive kata when the bed tilted sideways and folded back into the wall. I slowed, letting the pattern take me around in a circle so I could watch the rest of my room fold itself away, leaving just the bare walls that had greeted me when I’d first arrived. By the time the last panel had closed, I was standing with my back to the panels I knew contained equipment.

I waited, not entirely surprised when the wall nearest the control panel proved to be a door. Sandoval stood, centered in the doorway, his eyes taking in the defensive stance I’d settled into, his lips twitching in amusement.

“I didn’t come to fight,” he said. “Mack is waiting.”

He turned away, and I walked cautiously to the door, hesitating when I reached it. I didn’t hesitate for long, because Tens reached in and grabbed me by the bicep, hauling me into the corridor beside him.

“Let’s not keep him waiting,” he murmured, and I felt my implant go live.

Tens caught my expression, as I looked back at the room.

“They’re shielded,” he said. “Mine didn’t work, either.”

If Sandoval found that entertaining, he didn’t show it, so we followed him, ending up in the same room as we’d seen when he’d first contacted us. Mack stood when he saw us, but Sandoval waved him to return to his seat, and the two men stationed behind him, reached forward.

Mack glared at Sandoval, and evaded the hands of the men trying to restrain him.

“Cutter,” he said, and then, as his gaze travelled to Tens. “Tens.”

There was great relief in the greeting, but he was seized as he made to move towards us, and, when Tens and I went to close the distance, we each felt a hand take hold of us, and the muzzle of a Blazer pressed hard into our sides.

“So,” I managed. “This is not a friendly meeting, then?”

Sandoval looked back, scowling at his men, but not ordering them to stand down.

“These are negotiations,” he said. “Friendship has nothing to do with it.”

Well, alrighty then.

I stayed frozen, watching as Mack did the same. He had a Blazer tucked hard against each kidney. As far as I could see, he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’d like a coffee,” Tens said, lifting his chin towards the table. “That is protocol, is it not? A coffee while we discuss terms?”

Sandoval turned his head, taking in Tens’ face, before he nodded, and looked towards the door on the opposite side of the room, where two more troopers stood.

“Make it so,” he said, and waved Tens and I towards the seats around the table.

At his gesture, I was released, and the pressure in my side vanished. Mack was released at the same time I was, one of the troops giving his shoulder a pat as he stepped away. He glared at her, but returned to his seat, as we joined him. Sandoval waited until we were all seated, before he moved to join us.

“As you can see,” he said, addressing Mack as he approached, “they are unharmed.”

“I can see,” Mack said. “What about the rest of my people?”

People, I noted, not crew. I saw Sandoval register the choice of phrase, and wondered what he made of it.

“I see,” he said. “Your people are fine.”

He turned a disapproving gaze on me.

“Including the two you had off the grid.”

I tensed, wondering what had happened, when he’d found Delight and Pritchard.

“On the whole, I thought it best we leave them where they were, but that means,” he said, turning to Tens, “that you lied.”

I opened my mouth to say that, if he had lied, so had I, but Sandoval was ahead of me, because he turned back.

“And you helped him.”

Now, it was Mack’s turn to shift uncomfortably, but the number of weapons that had been raised to cover us, made moving a very unwise choice—and we’d all grown tired of being injured with nothing gained... or even with something gained. Sandoval looked at Mack.

“What do you suggest we do with them?” he asked, and I watched Mack’s expression tighten.

“Personally, I’d say they’ve done their jobs well,” he said, and hesitated as the gun barrels shifted to focus on him. Sandoval indicated he should continue. “They are loyal to me, not you, and they protected my interests as I expected. You surely know how valuable loyalty is?”

Sandoval looked thoughtful.

“Then how do I know I can trust you?” he asked.

“Because you know that I’m bargaining as hard for my interests as you are for yours, which means that whatever agreement we finally reach will be something I want as much as you do.”

“And your reputation relies on you keeping your bargains.” Sandoval’s tone was not a question, but Mack nodded all the same.

“Yes.”

“So, your people will not gainsay it.”

“No,” Mack said, and his voice said he had complete faith that neither Tens nor I would cross him.

Given my history of doing exactly that, I wondered where this faith came from.

“You have never broken a contract,” he said, and I understood.

I might defy him at every turn, but he was right—I