Page 137 of Stars in Umbra
The Rider’s synth AI emerged from the ship, her form familiar in a jumpsuit of matte leather, her long braid bouncing against the sequined back of her bomber jacket.
She swept onto the terrace in a gust of expensive perfume and a clack of her high heels.
‘Hey, you,’ Rina welcomed her.
‘Had your breakfast?’ Mirage asked with zero preamble, her expression far more serious than usual.
‘Nada,’ Rina replied, arching a brow. ‘Will I need it to cope?’
Mirage gave her a tight smile and a shrug of her elegant shoulders. ‘Perhaps.’
Sensing the gravity of the situation, Rina moved back inside and poured a steaming mug of bitter brew for herself while Mirage greeted Hanna.
Minutes later, Rina led Mirage into her parents’ study.
With a flick of her wrist, the Sable AI unfolded a holo-map from her comm tab.
‘I tracked the signal from the neural node controller we extracted from Mo’s head,’ Mirage said, her voice dropping to a clipped, clinical tone. ‘Its last embedded directive came from here.’
She tapped the glowing projection, and a cold, mountainous terrain unfurled, revealing jagged ridge lines, a dense thicket of pines, and a scarcely visible structure nestled between two ice-carved peaks.
‘The Thrall Estate,’ Mirage confirmed. ‘It’s located deep in the Trossachs Mountains on the eastern continent. It is off-grid, cloaked, and freakin’ fortified.’
Rina crossed her arms, her jaw tightening. ‘Owned by?’
‘Caidan Thrall,’ Mirage answered, her fingers flicking to reveal a dizzying spiderweb of shell corporations and encrypted transfers. ‘He’s a Rhesian industrialist who also dabbles as an ultra-conservative sponsor of hard-line politicians. You know the war-mongering type. Rumors have it that he’s behind the unrest in Alloria and Falasia. He’s secretive, filthy rich, and dirty asfokk. His pile was paid for through a series of offshore accounts and straw holders, but it all traces back to him.’
‘Why him?’ Rina asked, her mind racing.
‘I’m not sure how he’s involved with Mo’s predicament,’ Mirage said. ‘Still, with the kind of wealth and influence he has, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s funding the program. He furthermore made some cryptic remarks to Mo during the Admiral’s Ball on Eden II, and he was lurking around that evening in some shady salesman’s attempt.’
‘He’s suss, that’s for sure.’
At the sound of the familiar rumble, Rina glanced past the glowing map as Mo strode into the room, cradling a mug.
He looked devastatingly handsome in a pair of faded sweats and a dark, fitted vest.
He walked over to her and gave her a long, lingering kiss that almost had her panting, were it not for the company in the room.
When they broke apart, Mirage was waiting, a faint tapping coming from her heeled foot. ‘You two about done canoodling?’
‘Canoodling? Who uses that word anymore?’ Mo rasped, a glimmer of playful mischief dancing in his eyes.
‘It’s a classic,’ Mirage shot back. ‘Tis a term for people who spent the nightfokkin’ and haven’t quite caught up with the day yet.’
‘Perhaps you can exit and allow us to catch up,’ he growled.
‘Oh, he’s a ray of pure joy,’ Mirage deadpanned. ‘Now, if you two are finished with your PDA, can we focus on the potential doomsday scenario at hand?’
Rina raised a hand, her worry tightening around her chest. ‘Naam. We need to know a hell of a lot more about Thrall, if and how he is involved with Mo’s neural activation.’
Mirage tilted her head, pursing her lips. ‘The only way we’ll get what we require is to infiltrate him and his operation.’
Rina met her gaze with steel in her eyes. ‘So be it. We go to the Thrall Estate.’
Mo, one hip leaning on the desk, swung his eyes from one woman to the other. ‘Fokk. Do I get a say in this?
Mirage and Rina locked gazes and spoke as one. ‘Nada.’
