Happy getting-to-summer, everyone. >Cue the Beatles “Here Comes the Sun.”<
Things have been busy at The Hague space station, and beyond. People who have read The Princess Key have been asking me when the next book is coming out. The good news is, soon.
—Oh, boy, you may be thinking. We’ll finally get the sequel: Part 2 of the Shattered Worlds trilogy. Well, that has been written, and before too long, it will be in the talented hands of my editor, Sage Taylor Kingsley. But not quite yet.
—Ooo! Maybe it’s the first part of The Pathfinder Chronicles, which the free ebook Pathfinder Worlds is the teaser for! That one’s already in Sage’s hands, having her magic sprinkled over it. But that’s not it either.
The next book out, hopefully sometime this summer … is a political thriller set in the present day. David Provolo, the artist and book designer who did the excellent work on The Princess Key, is doing the cover and interior design as we speak. Type. Read. Whatever. Matthew Prodger, wizard of the digital realm, is working on reshaping the website. Which reminds me, the past newsletters, including the other Fiddly Bits stories, are now available there.
The book is called Steps. Three college students accept a challenge from their favorite professor, and mayhem ensues. I’ll let more details slip before the publishing date. If you’d like to be part of the launch team, well, you know where to find me.
How this story jumped to the head of the line goes kinda like this. Sage and I were discussing other manuscripts I have in the pipeline, and I told her that the one I think could be the best thing I’ve written so far might be tough to sell. Apparently, that’s a good sales pitch, so she asked to see it. Next thing I know, she’d editing it.
So I informed my publicist at Lamourie Media, and she asked to see it, too. Her exact response was: “This is epic!” With that dual endorsement, steps are being taken to publish Steps.
Rick’s Recs:
Rick’s recommendation for this month is a novel by a very good young author from Colorado named Aaron DeLay.
Aaron is still working on something to introduce Seven Days: A Seven Falls Story to you all, but we need to get the newsletter out, so I’ll show that to you next month. It’s a really good story, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Anyone who’s ever lived in, or even been to, a small town will be able to identify with it. Trust me, you know these people!
Fiddly Bit:
Thief in the Night
The distant science-fiction future portrayed in The Princess Key is populated by regular, ordinary people living out their lives. Some of those people live in places that might not be as comfortable as what we’re used to, but that doesn’t mean these circumstances aren’t real. 6000 years of Earth’s recorded history shows that, while many things change, some never do.
A word of warning; This story features one of the two main characters from The Princess Key, who grew up a victim of slavery, prostitution and pedophilia. It gives some of her deep backstory that isn’t shown in the book. These things are not portrayed explicitly, here or in The Princess Key, but if you find these things troubling, be forewarned.
Ciji, age 9 – nine years before The Princess Key – the planet Krennim
The skinny, blue-skinned 9-year-old crawled through the air conditioning duct of the big house. She wore a tight, elastic form-fitting body leotard. That, and the fanny pack.
It was oppressively hot, but with nobody home, the air conditioning was turned off. If they were home, it would be on and she’d be freezing. She came to a junction and turned to the right. She’d crawled about two meters when she stopped. Something … was off. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she’d learned to trust these feelings.
She reached into her fanny pack; pulled out a cigarette and lighter, lit it; took a pull, then let the smoke out slowly. A meter ahead of her, a red line wavered in the air. Ciji smiled, stubbed out the cigarette, and returned it and the lighter to the bag. Then she started backing out the way she came.
“What are you doing?” Syliar’s voice said in her ear.
They were following Ciji using her tracking chip. Having that damnable thing stuck in her arm had saved her life a few times. Ciji adjusted the thin, nearly invisible headset to make the earpiece more comfortable. “Security laser in the duct,” she said softly. “I’ll try another way.”
“No, if they’ve got security in the AC ducts, you’d better just get out of there.”
“I’m gonna try something else,” the little girl said.
Brief pause. “Fine, but if you get busted, we’ll leave you behind. Like Filia.”
Promises, promises, Ciji thought. If Filia’s still in jail, she’s probably eating better than we are. She backed up to the last junction, then took the left. She paused every couple of meters, but didn’t sense anything ahead. Finally she got to a grate. Peering down, she could see that this duct emptied out into the mansion’s huge kitchen. She got her slender fingers through the grate, barely, tripped the latch and let it swing down.
A lot had changed since Mommy sold her to Gith and Syliar. She still did most of the cleaning, and the laundry, but now she helped with the cooking as well. Not that she’d ever be good at it, but at least the only time she had to eat canned rations was when everybody else did, too.
She had also graduated to dancing on the plinth in the marketplaces with the other girls. She was now a full-fledged pleasure girl, albeit to a very specialized clientele. Pedophilia was illegal in a lot of places, but with the Qaalamite Consortium controlling all the marketplaces, she would just hide behind the other girls. The customers interested in young girls had no trouble finding her.
Her flaming red hair had changed the way the girls from Freedom’s Promise presented themselves. Most Dholamite slave girls wore blue, to match their blue skin. Her hair drew so much attention, Gith and Syliar had switched the girls to red outfits.
Twenty-four hours earlier, she’d been in bed with the couple that owned this sprawling estate. A Human businessman and his wife. The couple had gotten into a bidding war over Ciji. Another bidder pushed and pushed and finally gotten them to bid an outrageous amount of money. What they didn’t know was that the other bidder had been planted by the marketplace controller to drive up the bidding at pleasure girl auctions.
Up in their hotel room, she learned that this couple lived not too far away, but were leaving for a two-week vacation at the Temminial Falls Resort on the other side of the planet. They had stopped by the marketplace for a little indulgence before they left and had gotten a room for the night.
Ciji had hit the jackpot!
While she was pleasuring them, she had probed their minds for details that she could take advantage of. She didn’t know how she was able to do this—she assumed anyone could during the heat of passion—but the whole time, she distracted them by thinking: I love you, you’re so beautiful, you’re so handsome, I love touching your body.… It was part of her training.
By the time they were finished, she had the layout of their house memorized, along with their security access codes. After she took a nap back at the ship to clear her head, Gith took her to the now-unoccupied house and opened an access port to the environmental system. He parked the rented skimmer nearby, hidden from the road, and kept an eye out.
She was crawling through their AC ducts on her way to the man’s office, which would now include a side trip to their kitchen. The food is one of the best percs of these heists, she thought, salivating in anticipation. Intel she had acquired while in bed with them told Ciji that when she got to the office, his private safe would be hidden behind a copy of a painting by someone named Van Gogh. All she had to do was look for a piece of art called Starry Night.
Ciji slid out of the AC duct and dropped lightly to the kitchen floor. Nobody ever puts heavy security on their kitchen. She went straight for the refrigerator. It had been a long day, and she was ravenous. She opened the door and saw a glass bowl filled with something that looked like little meatballs in a green sauce. She took one out and popped it in her mouth.
Delicious! A little spicy, but bless The Eye! She pulled out the bowl, cradling it in the crook of her arm, and closed the door. When she did, she froze. Looking up at her expectantly was a snave; a three-legged mammal with short, bristly brown-and-white fur and two fluffy tails. Ciji took a meatball out of the bowl and flipped it at the snave. It leapt up on its two hind legs and snatched it out of the air.
It snarfed down the snack in one bite, then bounced excitedly on its single front paw, tongue hanging out, tails wagging vigorously. Ciji smiled and tossed it another meatball, then bent down and began scratching around its ears. It leaned into her hand and began to purr, closing its eyes with delight. She could feel her mind connecting with the animal’s.
“Bosco,” Ciji whispered. “Is that your name? Bosco?”
Recognizing its name, the snave began scampering around, panting. Ciji tossed it a few more meatballs, then put the bowl in the microwave to warm them up.
“Who are you talking to?” Syliar asked.
“They’ve got a snave,” Ciji replied. “I’m calming it down. I’m in the kitchen. There’s a computer terminal in here, so we’re back on track.”
“You’d better be,” Syliar hissed.
Ciji took the bowl of warm meatballs and sat down in front of the computer. She kept snacking on them, licking her fingers, occasionally tossing one to Bosco. Using the owner’s log-in ID, she was quickly able to bring up the security system.
It was a damned good system! One of those super-smart houses. They needed hardly any staff, and those had been given the two weeks off. It was all right there on the personnel page. Practically everything was automated. Dirty laundry went down a chute, got washed, dried, and folded, and even returned to whatever room it belonged in. Must be tracking threads embedded in all the clothes, towels and stuff, Ciji thought and absentmindedly rubbed her arm that had the tracking chip.
The floors were cleaned, the windows were washed, the lawn was mowed, all by automated systems. I wish we had this, she thought. Only the kitchen escaped the deluge of automation, so they likely had a very good chef who insisted on doing everything personally—a fairly common thing among the wealthy. Probably a real prima donna who bitched all the time but made great food. Like these meatballs! Rich people are funny.
Of course, the security system was automated as well. Practically every room was criss-crossed with invisible lasers. Oddly, these never went below about half a meter off the floor.
She smiled at Bosco. “That’s so you’ve got free run of the place when they’re gone, right?”
Bosco wagged his tails furiously.
“Quit talkin’ to that damned snave,” Syliar hissed in her ear. “If they’ve got audio sensors, you could trip ‘em.”
“WHAT DID YOU SAY??” Ciji shouted.
There was a mild cacophony of noise on the other end; probably Syliar jumping out of her chair, knocking it over, and the others laughing.
“Damn you, Za’cijimaa—”
“—I’m in their system now,” Ciji said calmly. “No audio sensors.”
Brief pause. “Well, don’t get cocky!”
Ciji scrunched her face up, bobbled her head, and mouthed: Don’t get cocky.
She kept in mind what she now thought of as the “Bosco Gap.” She could crawl through the house with ease.
Ah, but there were still the security cameras. With her hair and skin, she’d be ridiculously easy to identify. A 9-year-old Dholamite red-head? That they’d spent a night having sex with? Yeah, she kinda stuck out. It would be amusing to see the police put her in a lineup. How many blue children with red hair might there be in the Benthar region of the planet Krennim?
The guy was obviously rich, with the accompanying influence, and this was a world of the Kra’Naghyr Empire. If she wasn’t careful, the occupants of Freedom’s Promise would likely get busted at the next marketplace. Or, they’d never be able to do business within the Empire again. They’d wind up on a list or something … if she got caught.
She typed furiously on the computer, digging deeper into the automated security system. She went into the settings, then got an idea.
Before acting on it, she got up and made a brief tour of the kitchen. She found Bosco’s automatic food-and-water dispenser. It was mostly full, but she topped it up. “That’s ‘cause you’re such a good boy!” she assured her new best friend, giving him another scritch behind the ears. He yipped with glee.
She raided the fridge again, pouring herself a glass of juice and sampling some of the other food. She tossed a few morsels to her devoted co-conspirator. Then she hit the bathroom. It was tempting to take a shower with some of their scented soap, but Syliar would bitch if she returned smelling better than when she left. Better than Syliar, anyway. Plus, once she put her idea to work she wouldn’t have a lot of time.
When she came out, feeling refreshed, she took her glass of juice back to the computer terminal. She checked all the security feeds one last time, then keyed in the command for a Level-1 diagnostic. Immediately, the video feeds all went dark, and the laser network shut down. Yes! This didn’t work everywhere, but sometimes the smartest systems were the easiest to fool.
She jumped out of the chair and headed for the next room, adjusting the headset. “Okay, I started a diagnostic. I’ve got just less than eighteen minutes.”
“Do you remember the code for the safe?”
“Not if you keep distracting me,” Ciji snapped.
Silence. You’re learning, she thought at Syliar. She stopped, closed her eyes and raised her face to the ceiling, trying to remember the layout of the house. Please, Great and Holy Eye …Then she opened them and began to move.
Once she was in the man’s office—How can I remember his security codes and the layout of his house, but not his name?—the first thing she saw was the painting. She pointed to it and turned to the ever-present Bosco.
“That’s Van Gogh’s Starry Night?” she fussed and rolled her eyes. “By the Holy Eye, I’ve seen that picture a hundred times.”
She ve-e-ery carefully removed it from the wall and ve-e-ery gently laid it on the man’s desk. A pen-and-pencil set she hadn’t noticed drove two holes through the canvass, their pointed gold barrels standing proudly in the swirling starfield.
“Oh, shit,” Ciji whispered. “Good thing it’s a copy.” She turned to Bosco and put a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell ‘em.”
Bosco’s reaction any time she spoke to him indicated that her secret was safe with him.
She closed her eyes and concentrated. … Access code … She remembered lying in bed, her hands exploring his skin, his wife’s hands exploring Ciji’s … She shuddered … The sequence of numbers drifted into her mind. Nine digits. She punched them in on the keypad. The little read-out screen above the keypad flashed red.
“Ooo, no, no,” she hissed, flapping her hands uselessly. “Uh, um, oh …” She closed her eyes again.
“What happened?” her headset hissed. “You alright?”
“Shh, I’m trying to concentrate!” Ciji tried to still her mind. “No, not a 4, a 7!” She carefully punched in the new sequence, knowing she only had two more tries before it locked her out for twenty-four hours.
The display turned green and there was a soft click. “Ho, boy. Thank you, Eye.”
“You got it?”
“Yup. How much time have I got left?”
“Twelve minutes, fifteen seconds. Better get moving.”
“Whew, right.”
She opened the door of the safe. “Sweet blooms of Mezlon,” she breathed softly. After three years of stealing for Gith and Syliar, she never got over how this sight made her feel. Bundles of paper money, rolls of coins, ingots of precious metals, jewels, tiny vials of liquid, memory sticks and cards, stacks of documents … It wasn’t even that big a safe. She’d have to empty it out, including the little drawers, to be able to fit inside.
She slid the fanny pack around to her front and removed the only things in it; the rest of the single cigarette and the lighter. The lighter, she slid up the tight, elastic sleeve of her leotard. She put the cigarette aside. Nobody on the Freedom’s Promise smoked anyway, it was just for detecting security beams in the air. Gith had bought that pack of cigarettes shortly after buying Ciji from Mommy three years ago. I wonder how she’s doing? Holy Eye, please watch over her.
Every job was different. If they were hitting a bank, usually she would crawl in through the heat or AC vents, then hack the security and let the others in. This was a solo job, although she had contact with Gith and the ship in case of trouble. She saw a stack of papers that looked like stuff she’d seen when they hit a big realtor’s office last year. The top one had a fancy engraved border. On a hunch, she took them out and set them aside.
Ciji did a quick evaluation of the safe’s contents. She wouldn’t be able to get much of it into her fanny pack, but everything here was valuable. She started by packing in some of the little palm-sized ingots; two of gold, two of platinum. Riffled through a couple thick bundles of bills. They all seemed to be 100-Fuu notes. Several bundles of those got packed around the ingots.
She didn’t know what was in the little bottles, but if they were in here, they were valuable. She tucked them all between the money and her tummy to protect them. There was a little more room, but a lot more stuff. She considered grabbing some of the data sticks and cards. Nah, those things sometimes have tracking tech. Her eye drifted to the stack of documents she’d set aside.
She began thumbing through them. Again, she was reminded of that job at that realtor’s last year. Property deeds? It’s what the Consortium had sent them to steal that time, and these looked similar. Something made her take one off the top and slide it onto the desk under the painting. She rolled the rest up tightly, tucked them into the fanny pack and zipped it up.
“I think I’m done here,” she told Bosco, and he agreed. She tidied up the remaining contents of the safe, put the half-burnt cigarette in the middle, and closed the door. Returning to the desk, she slid Starry Night up off its twin golden moorings and hung it back on the wall. She brushed her fingers over the two little holes. Oh, well. Only a copy. They’d hit an art museum last year, so she knew copies were less valuable than originals. Back at the desk she took the document and put it where the rich Human could see it the next time he sat down.
“All finished,” she told Syliar and scampered for the kitchen. “How much time I got left?”
“Two minutes and change.”
“No problem.”
“Don’t bring that snave with you!”
Ciji laughed. “Aww, okay.”
She did, however, put what was left of the bowl of meatballs on the floor, then opened the door of the refrigerator wide. Bosco would have a buffet to contend with. She patted him on the head.
“Good boy, Bosco.”
He was too busy emptying the bowl to respond.
There was a loud snap as the security diagnostic concluded. The visual feeds reappeared on the computer screen, which also indicated that the lasers were back on line. Ciji closed the windows on the computer and logged off. Then she climbed up on the counter, turned the fanny pack around her back, set herself, and made a leap for the open grate. Grabbing it with her fingers, she clambered inside; wriggled a finger through the grate, and pulled it closed.
~ ~ ~
Back aboard Freedom’s Promise, Gith was spreading the contents of the fanny pack out on the table. Ciji was nervous, because she’d gotten less than a quarter of the safe’s bounty. Which she had told them, because … well, because The Eye sees all. Even so, Gith seemed pleased.
Jynni was holding one of the vials of liquid, frowning at it. “I don’t know the language this label’s written in. What is it?”
Ciji shrugged. “Dunno. It was in the safe, so I assume it’s valuable.”
“Could be drugs,” Gith said and gave a shrug of his own. “Maybe a genetically engineered virus. Could be anything.” He chuckled. “Windshield washer fluid? I’ll ask around at the next marketplace. Somebody’ll be able to read it.” He smiled at Syliar, holding up a bundle of 100-Fuu notes and an ingot of platinum. “We’ve got enough money to do the major repairs now, and put quite a chunk of change in the bank. We can start saving up for a better ship.”
“You know what these are?” Syliar said, shaking the fistful of documents. “Deeds. Somebody’s selling this guy the land under about two dozen refugee camps! Half of which are Dholamite. I recognize most of the locations.”
“Whoa!” Darna gasped, her eyes wide. “Camps in the Empire are on property owned by the Royal Family! That means this guy can kick ‘em off, make ‘em leave! And they got no place to go!”
“He don’t own ‘em no more,” Syliar said, shaking the papers. “WE do! We got the deeds right here, he ain’t got squat.”
Gith turned a puzzled smile at Ciji. “What made you leave one on his desk?”
Ciji returned a nervous shrug. “Dunno, just seemed a good idea at the time.”
Gith threw his head back and roared with laughter. “It’s genius, that’s what it is! It tells the guy that somebody knows he’s rippin’ off the Royal Family, and leaves him with evidence in his hand.” He flashed a grin around at the others. “He’s gonna think the Consortium hit his place with a team, and is gonna rat him out to the Emperor! He probably won’t even notice the missing money.”
He reached over and roughly tousled Ciji’s hair. “Ya done good, kid.”
Ciji gave a shy smile. This was a rare treat. Thank you, Great and Holy Eye.
Darna and Jynni shared a glance. “What are you gonna do with ‘em?” Jynni asked.
Gith grinned. “I know a guy who knows a guy on the Royal Family’s security squad. We’ll get these to him, and he’ll report in that somebody’s selling royal property to an outside buyer. There’ll be a big, fat reward, and the Consortium will make sure we get a cut.”
He laughed. “The Qaalamites may be snakes, but they’re our snakes.”
“The names of the buyer and seller are right here,” Syliar said, patting the stack. “He’s screwed!”
“And he’ll know it, the minute he steps into his office,” Gith said.
Syliar laughed. “I hope he’s enjoying his vacation.”
Ciji giggled. “Now I wish I’d brought Bosco with me.”
They all laughed.
“What was it that you fed him?” Jynni asked.
“I dunno. Some kind of meatballs in sauce. I left the bowl on the floor for him.”
“What kind of sauce?”
Ciji shrugged. “Green, kinda spicy.”
“Hmm,” Jynni said, scratching her chin.
“On this world,” Syliar said, “sounds like zoal-pepper sauce.” She burst out laughing again. “Omigosh! In an hour, that poor snave’s gonna be shittin’ his brains out! All over the house!! Well, I mean, it won’t kill him, but talk about a cleanup job….”
Gith patted the stack of deeds. “Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”