Page 1 of Shielded Heart

One

Arthos, the Infinite City

Terran Year 2105

The press of a button—inthis case, a button which displayed the amount of credits loaded onto the chip in Arcanthus’s hand—was all it took to change the bokkan informant’s standoffish demeanor.

The bokkan’s stony features softened as he led Arcanthus and Drakkal to somewhere moreprivate—a dark, deserted alleyway. Arc exchanged a glance with Drakkal; that glance was enough to tell Arc that he and his azhera companion were on the same page.

The change of location suited their purpose well.

Arcanthus’s thick tail swung from side to side. He willed it to slow; as eager as he was to conclude this business and head home, he couldn’t rush this. He knew this was the informant they’d been searching for, but he needed to hear confirmation from the bokkan’s lips.

After they were well beyond the main street’s neon lights, the bokkan stopped and turned to face Arcanthus and Drakkal. “So, uh…” His eyes dipped to Arc’s hand, which was closed around the credit chip.

Arcanthus raised his left hand and splayed his metal fingers, revealing the chip on his palm. “This? Oh, you have to earnthis, my friend.”

“Just…just a little, then, as a token of your good faith?”

A grin spread across Arcanthus’s lips, and he chuckled. “We’ve not pulled any weapons on you. That’s token enough, I’d say. Though wecoulddo things that way, if you’d prefer…”

Shifting his eyes to Drakkal—whose burly frame nearly filled the narrow alley—the bokkan shook his head.

Arcanthus closed his fingers over the credit chip and lowered his hands, clasping the right over the left. “I’ve only four questions. Answer to my satisfaction, and you will receive all due payment.”

The bokkan’s dull purple tongue slipped out and ran over his craggy lips. “That’s not how this sort of thing usually works. You pay me for—”

Drakkal cleared his throat, dragging out the sound into a low growl as he bared his fangs. The azhera’s fur—taupe with patches of copper and umber—bristled. The bokkan snapped his mouth shut.

“Did you give information to a female with blue and black hair and a male with facial scars?” Arcanthus asked.

Eyes rounding, the bokkan nodded. “You’re not the first to ask after them, either. Some people dressed all in black had questions, too, but none of them actually spoke. They used holo-text to communicate. Seemed unnatural.”

“A perfect segue into my next question. What did you tell the black-clad individuals who asked after the couple? I suggest, for your sake, that you omit nothing.”

The bokkan flicked his gaze toward the alley entrance. “Look, there’s people involved in this who I’d rather not cross, and I don’t—”

Drakkal moved closer to the informant.

“Okay, okay!” the bokkan cried, pressing his back against the dirty wall. “I told them that yes, those two had come to me. I, uh…told them that the female did most of the talking, and she was asking after a forger. Said they’d heard of one with a reliable reputation. And I, um… I really shouldn’t be telling you any of this, okay?”

Arcanthus lowered his chin, tightening his hold on his own hand. The gentle hum of his cybernetic limbs exerting pressure coursed up his arms and into his shoulders. “Such a shame. Ireallywanted you to earn your payment today.”

The bokkan cast another frightened glance at Drakkal and held up his hands. “All right, all right. I gave both groups instructions on how to find this forger, okay? I told the ones that didn’t talk that I’d sent the couple over there. That’s all I said.”

Arc’s tail picked up speed, but he kept his hands down and clasped together. “What do you know about this forger?”

“You didn’t hear any of this from me, okay? He’s a real secretive one. I’ve heard he doesn’t give his name out to many people, likes it to be hard to find him. He’s got a reputation for being trustworthy—he doesn’t double-cross his clients, even when the bounty on them is bigger than his asking price for his work. Supposedly doesn’t even share the names of people he does work for. Goes by Alkorin.”

Arcanthus took a single step closer to the informant.

The bokkan glanced up, meeting Arcanthus’s third eye, and slid half a meter away along the wall.

“And he expects the informants who send people in his direction to be discreet,” Arcanthus said. “Expects them to guard his potential clients. That’s why he ensures said informants are well compensated. That’s whyyouhave been well compensated—a thousand credits per month, plus kickbacks for referrals that result in new business.”

The bokkan shrank back, as though attempting to force his body through the wall. “H-how could you know—”

“Remember, I’m asking the questions—and we’ve arrived at the last one. I trust the answer should come to you easily enough. You seem to have no problem passing this information to everyone who comes asking.” Anticipatory electric currents coursed through Arcanthus’s cybernetic limbs. “What is my name?”

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