The New Ka'Adri

Prologue-1

Examining the yellow dress that clung to her body like a second skin, Miri Nin Valia frowned at the slit that bared her leg to just past the knee. It was a bit ostentatious for her taste, but in this line of work, you had to look the part. The yellow looked good against her dark brown skin, though the harsh lights in the ceiling weren’t doing her any favours.

Once again, she checked her reflection in the ladies-room mirror. With thirty looming just over the next hill, she still looked youthful enough to convey a certain innocence. Enough that foolish men would assume that she was just another brainless twit who could be won over with a little swagger and bravado.

Her round face had an almost child-like quality, and she had been told more than once that her deep brown eyes were alluring. Her hair – what little of it there was – had been cut to a short fuzz. On other worlds, that might have earned her a few sidelong glances, but the Leyrians were far more open-minded about people who defied conventional gender roles.

She bent forward, retrieving a tube of crimson lipstick from her purse and carefully applying it. There. Now, she was ready to work. Activating the audio recorder she had concealed in her handbag, she slung the strap over her shoulder and headed out the door.

The heeled shoes were a bit of a pain. After so many years in the wilderness of a backwater planet, moving from town to town, she had gotten used to old, leather boots, the kind any soldier would wear. But she had been trained as a ka’adri whose first duty was to gather information on Aladar’s enemies. That meant she had to be comfortable slipping into any role.

ka’adriThis was her first visit to a club that existed for the sole purpose of appreciating fine spirits. The lounge area had hardwood floors and wide windows that looked out on a forest of pine trees. Most of the square ebony tables were empty, but each one had a candle burning in a little glass jar.

The curved, wooden bar had only a single old man sitting on one of its many stools, but he was content to remain quiet and peer into his glass. She noticed at least two dozen bottles on the shelves behind the counter – they came in a rainbow of colours and in just about every shape you could imagine – but she suspected they were just for show. For one thing, there was no bartender.

Or, more precisely, there was no human bartender.

humanThe moment she approached, a man appeared from out of nowhere. Tall, slim and transparent, he greeted Miri with a smile. By this point, she was familiar with the concept of holograms – sculpted light that could produce a three-dimensional image. She didn’t flinch when he suddenly popped into existence. Which was a very good thing, given that she was pretending to be a woman who had grown up with this technology. Still, it was a bit unnerving to think that she wasn’t speaking to a real person. Especially when he was so handsome.

“What can I get you, ma’am?” the ghostly bartender asked.

Folding her hands on the counter, Miri leaned forward and studied him with a tight frown. “Alvorin Whiskey,” she said after a moment. “Neat.”

As the final word left her mouth, the hologram vanished. She heard the whir of machines working and the bubbling sound of liquor being poured into a glass. This whole establishment was…What was the word? Automated. The Leyrians believed in freeing people from the burden of menial labour. It was an interesting philosophy: one she had never had the chance to consider until very recently. For the most part, she agreed, though she had to wonder about the people who wanted to be bartenders. Surely, they must exist.

wantedA hatch in the counter opened, and a hexagonal glass came up on a platform. She took it with a gesture of thanks and turned away from the bar. It still mystified her to think that she didn’t have to pay for any of this. Not the drink, not the dress, not her admission into this building. There was no money on this world.

Her target was a man named Andreo Tremir: a handsome fellow in his middle years who sat in a cushioned chair with his legs crossed at the ankle. He had positioned himself in the corner with a line of windows behind him and another one on his right. He seemed to be enjoying the scenery as twilight set in.

Glass in hand, Miri claimed a spot in front of a nearby window. She never looked in his direction. Not even a glance from the corner of her eye. Instead, she searched the forest for any hiding places that snipers might use. She wasn’t the least bit worried about that; Leyria was a peaceful world, and what little violence did take place here would not be directed at the connoisseurs of high-end alcohol. But it would give her the appearance of being lost in thought.

Tremir’s profile suggested that he was the sort of man who enjoyed female attention. She would make contact if she had to, but for now, it was best that he thought she hadn’t noticed him. That would only entice him further.

She lifted her glass to inhale the oaky aroma. It smelled as good as anything her people had ever created. Her first sip confirmed that assessment. This was some top-shelf stuff! The whiskey was a little sweeter than she would have expected, and it went down smooth.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Tremir called out to her.

Her lips curled into the hint of a smile. “Yes.” She turned her back on him, following the line of windows to the far side of the room. It was a bit of a gamble, but she was fairly certain that it would pay off.

She had been told on several occasions that Justice Keepers could see what was behind them as clearly as if they had eyes in the backs of their heads. Miri possessed no such ability, but there were other ways to monitor her surroundings.

She listened for the scuff of Tremir’s shoes on the floor; she watched his faint reflection in the window. She was aware of his presence long before he got within arm’s reach, but she didn’t turn around until he was almost on top of her.

The man froze, startled by her sudden movement, and took a cautious step backward. His apprehension faded in the blink of an eye, replaced by a friendly smile. “Forgive me; I couldn’t help but notice you. You’re a bit overdressed for this place, don’t you think?”

She was, but only by a hair’s breadth. Tremir himself wore somewhat formal attire: dark slacks and a high-collared shirt beneath a gray overcoat. It was the sort of thing he might put on for a fancy dinner party while her dress was better suited to a gala. Still, she wanted to make an impression.

He was handsome enough, Miri supposed: tall with only a handful of wrinkles on his copper-skinned face and a neatly-trimmed beard that showed only a few flecks of gray. His hair was cut short and parted to one side.

Answering his smile with one of her own, Miri chuckled. “What good is a dress if it just sits in your closet?” she replied. “Maybe I was just looking for an excuse to wear it.”

“An excuse?”

“Maybe I was just looking for someone to wear it for.”

Soft laughter escaped him, and his eyes closed halfway as he lifted a glass. Its contents were a deep shade of red; Miri couldn’t begin to guess what it was supposed to be. No matter. She had plenty of scintillating topics to discuss. “I’ve never seen you in here before,” Tremir noted.

“I read an article that said this place had some of the best whiskey in Lentasa.”

“That’s true.”

Cocking her head, Miri allowed her eyebrows to rise just a little. “I decided I had to try it for myself.”

More laughter bubbled out of Tremir. This time, he took a sip and moseyed over to the window. It was growing darker by the minute; the trees were little more than shadows to her eyes. “I take it you’re a connoisseur of whiskey?”

“I’ve been known to sample a few varieties.”

“And what do you think? Does my club live up to its reputation?”

Feigning a moment of hesitation, Miri went to stand beside him. She lifted her glass as if in a toast, her blurred reflection in the window doing the same, and offered another smile. “Your reputation is safe, I assure you.”

“Good.”

Sipping her drink, Miri savoured the taste and plotted her next move. “So, you run this place?”

He watched her from the corner of his eye, troubled by her question. He expected her to recognize him on sight. Just about anyone else would. The man was frequently on the…the…By the Eyes of Vengeance! What was the word for that blasted contraption that displayed images that had been recorded elsewhere?

“I opened it,” Tremir said. “Can’t say I’m involved in the day-to-day operations. Not anymore. I’m much too busy these days.”

Miri tittered, shaking her head as she peered through the window. “Sounds like you’re a very important man,” she observed. “Maybe I should let you get back to work.” She turned to go.

“I can spare a few minutes.” His words came out just a smidge too fast. As if he were eager to prevent her from leaving and doing his best to effect a façade of nonchalance. Only a trained ear would have noticed it. She had to give the man this much credit: he was almost as smooth as the whiskey.

“Really?” Miri said. “And what is it that you do?” Putting his back to the window, Tremir scowled, but she cut him off before he had a chance to speak. “Actually, why don’t we start with your name?”

“Andreo Tremir.” He said it as if that should answer all of her questions.

“I see. And I take it you own several fine establishments like this one.”

His scowl deepened, bordering on outright anger. Men like him were all alike: give them even one particle less than their due, and they would erupt in a tempest of indignation. And of course, their notion of what they were owed was always far inflated from what the rest of the world thought. “I’m the councillor for this province!” Tremir snapped.

And there it was.

The man was a politician, a member of the Leyrian System’s Council, the governing body for this planet and various settlements throughout this solar system. His dossier listed him as a prominent member of the Blue Party, an organization that had grown increasingly xenophobic in its dealings with other worlds.

Miri put on another smile that never touched her eyes. “Well then, I suppose you would be busy.”

would“Well, I-”

“It can’t be easy trying to keep it all together.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Miri tossed back her whiskey, downing it all in one gulp. She lowered her hand and gave him a look that should have pinned him to the window. “Please. We both know the Prime Council and his party have fallen out of favour now that the war’s over.”