Go forth in grace?
What in ten hells did that mean?
Trevor doubted he’d get much sleep tonight.
17
CONNOR TWITCHED WITH anticipation. He double-checked inside his jacket pockets to make certain he forgot none of the necessary tools. Also tucked: An extra cigar he swiped from Trevor’s humidor. Perfect for the occasion.
He picked up the ensemble at a men’s boutique on the L-3. The fashionable suit worked well at a restaurant, a night club, or a business meeting. It said: Here’s a man who intends to command a room, but he’s also accessible. The tailor only needed twenty minutes to complete a full upfit to match Connor’s considerable frame.
The gray and blue remained safe in his guest flat, hung in the closet.
After a pleasing meal at a new Riyadhi restaurant, Connor checked the public directory and set his target. Rifters were fun, but tonight gave him a chance to walk and reflect.
Though he drew everyone’s attention, no one on the Swiftrak recognized him. His old mates would’ve expected to see a long, flowing mane, perhaps tied into a tail. Others might detect him by the outlandish nightclub shine, featuring sparkles on his cheeks. Or the orange jumpsuit he wore for years working the air recycling system.
What did strangers think now? Were they impressed? Did they see him as a world-mover and history-maker? Or were they frightened? Did they suspect he’d make the galactic sector better for everyone by cleansing it of the rot?
Of course not. These people didn’t understand the true nature of the enemy. They hadn’t seen the filth up close. They weren’t willing to make the hard choices and the sacrifice.
No matter. Change was at hand. Not even days remained.
When Connor received this assignment, a savage thrill coursed through his blood. The task was long overdue.
Yet as he contemplated how it would play out, Connor questioned whether he deserved all the glory. Shouldn’t he have stood side-by-side with his older brother? This assignment marked the end of their struggle. Alas, the pairing only made sense in theory. Practical reality excluded Trevor, the most recognized man on Amity Station.
Connor entered the lobby of the Alhambra residential bloc. He recalled visiting here once or twice. Must have been a decade ago. Two of his earliest lovers lived in this building.
He forgot their names or whether they were any good. No matter. They belonged to a different man’s life, one without purpose.
Connor chose a lift where no one waited. Once inside, he opened his pom and overrode the LinkPass identifier. He dictated the floor number and thought of his greeting.
Wouldn’t the cudfrucker be surprised?
He emerged on Level 15 after again disabling the LinkPass identifier. Connor twice turned left and came upon Flat 1583. A woman in a flowered sarong passed by. Connor offered a respectful nod and waited until she rounded the corner.
He thought about surprising the resident. All he had to do was override the door chime with his phantom drill.
Tempting, but a touch too aggressive. Nexus trusted him to use it wisely.
He pressed the chime and waited.
When the door slid open, Connor made note of Thomas Quinlan’s priceless reaction. Drink in hand, Thomas glared at the visitor with a touch of confusion. He knew, yet he couldn’t be sure.
“Connor Stallion?”
“Like my suit? I bought it just for you.”
Thomas sneered. Didn’t he appreciate the snark?
“I heard you were coming home on leave. What in ten hells brings you to my door?”
Connor didn’t wait for an invitation. He pushed by Thomas.
“I’m catching up with old friends.”
The door slipped shut. Thomas grunted a laugh.
“Then what are you doing here, Stallion? In three years, you never said ten words to me.”
The flat bore no distinctive qualities, its walls bare.
“You’ll love the answer when I get to it, Quinlan. I’ll have what you’re having. A double.”
“The hell you will. I never invited you into my home.”
Connor opened his arms as if asking for a hug.
“Yet here I am. You can try to remove me, but I wouldn’t recommend it, bruv. Now, how about that drink?”
“Leave, or I will call Sec Admin.”
Connor made himself at home on the couch. It felt sturdier than the usual standardized furniture. Thomas must have had the old one replaced. Probably pushed his weight around. Typical.
“Pour my drink. Then you’ll sit across from me and listen. That’s not your strong suit. Never was. Will be today.”
Connor winked. Thomas crossed his arms and gazed at the intruder.
