The Rock of Bral is a fearsome place
It tumbles and rolls
through the vastness of space
Where pirates and
merchants and nobles all meet
And there is found every
spacefaring breed
Chapter
Six
There
were larger trading centers than the Rock of Bral but there were none
bigger. In a universe filled with
bigger-than-life characters like Lucky Nightstar and One-Shot Malcolm, the Rock
of Bral was perhaps the biggest of all.
So
it was no surprise that the Storyteller spent quite a bit of time there
Although
it was just a medium-sized asteroid orbiting a tiny airworld, the Rock of Bral
was famed throughout the spacelanes as the hub of spelljamming society.
A
former pirate's haven, the Rock was as metropolitan a place as anywhere in the
spheres. Virtually every major species
with spelljamming technology could be found here: humans, beholders, elves, dwarves, neogi, illithids, dracon,
giff, halflings, dowhar; every spacefaring race was represented. And, while they were on the Rock at least, they
got along, leaving their feuds
behind. Free trade was everything here,
and it had made the Rock hugely successful.
Merchants, traders, mercenaries, slavers, thugs, rogues, nobles and
pirates from half a hundred worlds and species teemed its thronging
streets. There was absolutely nothing
that money couldn't buy, from rare Shou silks to human brains (a particular
favorite of the illithids). There were
only two rules to thriving here: first, a wise man kept his nose out of other
people's business, and second, enough gold could solve any problem.
The
spelljamming docks were immense, and there were very few ships too large to
dock at the Rock. Gigantic piers
stretched out on the gravity plane like skeletal fingers reaching out into
space. Ships would approach along the
gravity plane to dock (and could be facing either 'up' or 'down' in relation to
the Rock). The city proper, along with
the palace (the pirates who had made the city what it was and were nominally in
control had deemed themselves royalty) and Lake Bral (from which the population
drew its water supply), was located 'topside'.
'Underside' was separated from 'topside' by sheer vertical cliffs nearly
a thousand feet high, and was where the oxygen-producing farms were
located. ('Topside' and 'underside'
were relative terms, of course.)
The
passenger ship Starfly (a refitted
lamprey-class luxury liner) arrived at approximately 6:15 am local time (unlike
most star cities, the Rock had both day and night; gigantic sails were mounted
to the underside so that the asteroid slowly rotated, the local fireworld -
which was pretty distant - giving the Rock its 'day') and its two passengers
disembarked.
"An
interesting way to travel," remarked Julian Sandstar.
Twilight
Jack shrugged. "Many people travel
in that manner."
"Yes,
but I would have assumed you had your own ship."
"I
have three, to be precise. But I'm no
helmsman, and I find the duties of navigation to be tedious. Why should I maintain a ship when I can
charter one at any time?"
"I
suppose I never really thought about it," said the elf dubiously. "But what if you need to charter a ship
to take you somewhere passenger ships don't fly? It seems to me that that must happen to you from time to
time."
"Not
that often," said Jack. "Most
people flee into populated areas, not deepspace. But, if it comes to that, I can always purchase a ship and a crew
to run it."
The
elf nodded. "You do travel light,
though."
"There
are very few things I really need. What
is this place we're going?"
"The Stellar Dragon. It's a small place, but one of the finest
alehouses on the Rock. Very
highbrow. For the Rock, anyway."
Jack
cocked an eyebrow. "Badly named,
then."
Julian
was surprised. "I've always
thought it was a majestic name."
"You've
obviously never met a stellar dragon.
Why are we visiting this tavern?"
Julian
stared at him for a moment. The man had
survived an encounter with a stellar
dragon? Finally he spoke. "This particular tavern is a front for
the Red Masks, a local thieves guild.
The guildmaster is a man named Trevor Farifax. He owes me a long-standing debt."
"And
he will pay it?"
Julian
smiled. "Normally not. But with you around? I think so.
One way or another."
* * *
For
Bral, The Stellar Dragon was an
elegant little place, in the better part of the city. That meant it was a fairly clean place, located in a part of the
city that was a little less dangerous than the rest.
There
was a sign with a red bull painted on it which swung from a signpost just
outside the door. ("It's a long
story," Julian has said, when Jack had looked at it. "Don't
ask."), and some elegant wooden steps leading up into the main tavern
area.
Julian
spoke to the doorman for a few moments before the young man nodded and hurried
off. They were left waiting for about
five minutes before the doorman returned, and guided them back to one of the
private booths in the back of the room.
A
balding overweight man with a ruddy complexion was waiting for them there,
dining carefully on some green vegetable appetizers. As they approached, he dipped one of the green shoots into a
yellowish sauce and popped it in his mouth.
He
looked up and, smiling, gestured for them to sit. "Sandstar, what a surprise!
How nice of you to drop by and visit."
"I'm
afraid this isn't altogether a social visit, Trevor," Julian replied. "I've come to collect that favor you
owe me."
The
large man gave a solemn nod. "Ah,
I see. Well, anything that is within my
power, of course. And who is your young
companion?"
"Jack,"
said Julian. "Twilight Jack."
Trevor
sat back, reassessing Jack. He was
apparently impressed. "You're the
same Twilight Jack the Storyteller wrote of?"
Jack
inclined his head.
The
hint of a smile passed over the fat man's lips. "Interesting. Very
interesting. So what can I do for you
two?"
"We're
after the Raver," said Julian.
The
fat man gave a bark of laughter.
"Believe me, if I knew where to find the Raver, I would be a very
rich man by now."
"More
likely," said Jack, "the Raver would have had you eliminated."
The
fat man's eyes narrowed at that, and a tense moment passed. Then he chuckled. "I suppose you're right at that." His gaze shifted across the room, and a
smile lit his face. "Ah, my
order! I've been waiting here for ages,
practically starving to death."
An
anemic elderly man, uniformed as a waiter, made his way to their table, holding
aloft a small tray filled almost to overflowing with exotic foodstuffs.
"Where
have you been?" demanded the fat man.
"I've been waiting for nearly ten minutes."
The
old waiter mumbled an apology, and did his best to balance the over filled tray
and place the plates on the table at the same time.
There
was a clatter as a small container of some steaming yellow sauce went tumbling
into Trevor's lap.
"You
clumsy old fool!" bellowed the fat man, leaping up and backhanding the old
man. Dishes and foods went flying as
the waiter fell to the floor.
The
old man picked himself up, stammering an apology and rushed off to get
something to clean up the mess..
Muttering
darkly, the fat man tried vainly to wipe away the stain the yellow sauce had
put into his breeches. Finally he took
his seat again. "I apologize for
my outburst," he said at last.
"Good help is so difficult to find."
"Not
at all," said Jack, who had watched the whole incident quietly. "It tells us quite a bit about your
position here."
"Well,"
said the fat man, pleased that his importance here had been registered, "well, yes. Of course." He
turned to the elf. "Now what was
it you wanted, Julian? Something about
the Raver, wasn't it? Would you like me
to give you your own crystal sphere as well?"
"We
don't expect you to give us the
Raver," said Jack. "We want
to hear what you might have to say about a man named Jarren Windhook."
The
large man shook his head, leaning back and crossing his arms. "I don't believe I'm familiar with that
name."
Jack
stared at him for a long moment.
"Let's cut to the chase," he said, leaning forward. "I've been around for a long
while. I can tell when someone is being
less than honest with me. So why don't
you tell me everything you know right now?"
"I'm
not certain I like your tone," Trevor began, then cut himself short. "What is that?"
Jack
had taken out a short needle and was playing with idly. "Just a needle. It's dipped in Athlyss-Tevor, an herb from
the Greatspace system. You've heard of
it? No? Well, it's a kind of truth serum. Very effective. The only
problem is that it is universally fatal."
"Are
you trying to threaten me?"
"No,"
said Jack quietly, "I am
threatening you. I am saying that if
you don't start telling me about Jarren Windhook, I am going to make you stop
breathing."
The
fat man stared at him. "I can have
twenty men in here in the snap of a finger."
"You
won't live long enough to see them if you try it." Jack's voice was as calm as if he were
discussing the weather. "And they
won't survive you by much. But that
would be counter-productive. I don't
want you dead; I just want to know about Windhook."
The
large man was sweating. A long moment
passed, then the fat man shrugged.
"So I've heard of him, so what?
Everyone has. There've been a
couple of bounty hunters to show up on the Rock lately looking for him."
"He
was here?" asked Sandstone.
"Yeah,
a couple of years ago."
"And?"
"And
nothing. He was a normal human. Quiet.
Astrobotanist or something."
"I
don't believe you," said Jack.
"Normal humans don't have any ties with the Raver."
"Maybe
he had a shadow life. How would I
know?"
"Trevor
- it was Trevor, wasn't it?" The
fat man nodded. "Trevor, you may
not believe this, but I wasn't born yesterday.
You run a thieves guild. You
would make it your business to know. So
if you intend to lie to me, you'd better start doing a better job."
There
was a long moment as the large man considered.
Jack's cold and merciless eyes seemed to bore straight into him.
"Alright,"
he said at last, "I'll tell you what I've heard - but I warn you, it's
unsubstantiated."
"Good
enough,"
"There's
a man in the lower city, the dock district.
Deals in items which haven't been properly reported to the port
authorities."
"Smuggling,"
said Jack.
The
large man nodded. "Precisely. Now, I'm not in any way connected with his
operation - smuggling doesn't fall into my guild's sphere of interest."
"Of
course not." There was a half
smile on Jack's lips.
"I
only know of him by reputation," insisted Trevor. "Our paths have never crossed."
"Name,"
demanded Jack.
"Again,
I've never met the man. He may not even
be a man. But they say you can get in
touch if you ask for Alexian Salonina."
"Where
should I ask?"
"There's
an armorer's shop called The Broken
Ballista. The man who works there
is well connected. His name is
Dev. Mention Alexian and something
might come of it." The fat man
leaned forward. "Don't mention my name. That would be awkward. Although we're not in direct competition,
you see, Alexian's people might get edgy."
"And
what's the connection between Alexian and Windhook?"
"Again,
this is just rumor. Some people say
that Windhook was doing a little smuggling on the side."
"Slaves?"
The
fat man shook his head.
"Off-planet drugs. Makes
sense, really, when you reflect that the man's profession was
astrobotany."
Jack
nodded. "Good enough. Is there anything else? Think hard. You don't want to leave anything out."
"That's
everything I know." The fat man
was adamant.
"Very
well." Jack stood. "Now, just so we understand each other,
the list of men I've killed is a very long one. Killing people is something I'm very good at. If you've lied to me, or misrepresented
anything, I'll be back. And I'll add
one more name to the list. Your guild
will be short one guildmaster.
Understand?"
* * *
"Well,"
said Sandstar as they left, "I hardly know what to say. I'm impressed. Very impressed."
"By
what?" asked Jack.
"That
exchange. After a few minutes, I simply
shut my mouth and watched."
Jack
shrugged. "Some people are easier
to intimidate than others. Your friend
had heard something of my reputation; I simply played on what he thought I
could do."
The
elf chuckled. "That and a poisoned
needle."
Jack
shook his head. "It was just a
needle. There was no poison."
Sandstar
laughed. "You're not serious! There was no - what was it called -
Athlyss-Tevor?"
"There
is no such substance," said Jack.
"I invented it. That was
what made it so believable to your friend; he had never heard of it."
The
elf chuckled again.
"Ingenius. And you told him
you could kill him before he able to summon his men. I am a bit surprised that Trevor didn't spot your bluff. He is the head of a thieves guild, after
all."
"I
wasn't bluffing," said Jack.
"As for his being the head of the guild, I doubt sincerely that he
is even a senior member."
"What?"
the elf was confused.
"Consider,"
said Jack. "If you were the head
of a secret society of thieves, what is the last thing you'd want to be common
knowledge?"
"I
haven't the faintest idea."
"Your
identity, of course. Do you think
anyone other than the most amateur of thieves would want anyone to know his
face, especially if he was the head of a thieving order?" Jack shook his head. "No, friend Trevor was merely what is
known as a 'fall man'. A decoy. That way, if things go badly for the guild,
Trevor is around to get the axe while the real heads of the order melt
away."
"But
the information he gave-" protested the elf.
"Is
quite probably good. Once he got the go
ahead from his superiors to give us what we need. He simply did as he was told, and gave us this Alexian
fellow."
"But
how could he know his superiors wanted him to give us Alexian?" Sandstar was puzzled.
"Because
at least one of his superiors was right in the room with us."
"What?"
"The
clumsy waiter, of course. It seems
likely to me that we very well did meet with the head of the guild tonight,
indirectly."
Sandstar
pondered that for a moment. Then: "But doesn't that change things a
bit? How do we know that they simply
weren't trying to put us off the trail?"
"Because
I can read people, and friend Trevor wasn't lying to us. He told us everything he knew about
Windhook. Whatever game this guild is
playing - and you can bet that they are playing at something - Trevor isn't
involved."
"Still,
how do we know the information is good?"
Jack
looked at him. "We don't. Not for certain. But, for now, we go on the assumption that it is. It will at least lead us somewhere. If it's false, than that tells us something
too. And, if it is false, I intend to
make good on my promise."
"And
execute Trevor?"
Jack
shook his head. "That wasn't my
promise. If Trevor was honest with us,
and if he doesn't get in the way, he may yet live out a long life. It's the guildmaster who had better start
praying he told us everything. After
all, your friend was only a mouthpiece."
Sandstar
shrugged. "I have no friends,
Jack. Just associates."