Here you'll find

 

Mount Robillard

 

 

 

 

15. An Old Acquaintance

Lancer drifted slowly back to the waking world and swept a few hairs away from where they shouldn't have been, namely his mouth. He perked his ears. What was that quiet but steady buzzing sound... ah, the shower.

Another swipe to the still slightly warm but definitely empty space next to him confirmed it: Scott was already up. Lancer blinked a few times, wondering how come the dark head was not snuggled to his chest, or somewhere lower still, the way it usually was when he woke up. Or, more precisely, was woken up by a mischievous-looking young man who insisted that sex in the morning was absolutely essential if one was to have a good start for the day.

The shower fell silent and after a few seconds Scott appeared from the bathroom, still dripping wet, a towel somehow hanging around his hipbones. He grinned to Lancer, stepped closer and shook his hair so that water sprayed all around, a generous amount of it on Lancer's naked body.

"Get up!" he ordered and snagged off the blanket under which Lancer had tried to hide. "We must go to have breakfast now!"

"What's the goddamn hurry anyway?" Lancer grumbled, slightly miffed at the deviation from an established morning routine, but crawled obediently to the side of the bed and flung his legs over the edge. Scott gaped at him.

"You do not remember?" he asked incredulously. "We will go to the city today!"

"Oh boy!" Lancer sprung on his feet and rushed into the still steamy bathroom. "Sorry Scott, I'll be extra quick..."

How could he have forgotten the big day? Corinn was to make yet another trip to Trelissac and, at Maurice's insistence, Lancer was to accompany him. Rumors of the party had somehow reached the ears of Mr. Manager himself, and while regularly communicating with the rebels, he had taken the opportunity to bombard them with requests to meet Lancer again. Scott had naturally pleaded to come along, and so both of them were to join Corinn for the day, even if it was agreed that they would stay inside the transport all the time and only leave it to meet Maurice.

Scott had been boiling with curiosity for days, and Lancer felt excitement take him over as well. What would it feel like to see the city again? Or the restaurant? He hadn't been there for two years.

Scott literally dragged him to the canteen, pushed him into a chair and dashed away to get breakfast for both of them. Lancer threw his hands in the air in surrender and waited patiently, watching Scott dart around. Somebody certainly was enthusiastic!

"Morning," Corinn yawned and sat down next to him, tray in hand. "You ready to go after this?"

"Sure thing. Where do you need to go this time?"

"I have a couple of places, besides Maurice's." Corinn sipped his drink and stuffed a bread roll into his mouth, chewed it and clarified: "He's got the most important stuff there. Smuggled medications."

Lancer nodded. Those were indeed the most crucial items they needed to pick up this time: new supplies for the ward. It was unfortunate that some very necessary things were so hard to come by, and so fortunate that they had Maurice, whose network of contacts and pleasant hoard of money ensured that if anyone could get a hold of the more elusive supplies, he could.

Scott plonked the tray on the table and they all concentrated for a while on making the food disappear in minimum time.

"Good morning, Corinn, Lancer, Scott. About to leave, are you?"

Three faces turned up, and three pairs of eyes blinked. Arria was standing next to them, face still rather pale and drawn, dark shadows still under his eyes, but he was smiling. Corinn glanced at Lancer who gulped down the last of his cereal and cocked his head a little. This was something nobody had seen for far too long a smile on their blond commander's lips.

"Good morning, Arria!" Corinn was the first to get a word out. "Yeah, we're heading out as soon as we've eaten. Was there anything special?"

"No, no changes. I just saw Edmé a moment ago and he asked me to make sure those chemicals get here, pronto."

"No need to worry, we sure will bring them!" Corinn hesitated for a while. "How's he?"

"Better." Arria's permanently weary face seemed to get a new glow at the single word. "Lucid, and determined to make it."

"That's real good to hear," Corinn said quietly. "Real good."

He couldn't help remembering the day of the battle. In fact he was sure he'd never forget a single sickening second of his part in its aftermath, no matter how much he wished he could. He and Fonzo had been among the group gathered in the small hangar, tensely waiting for their Commander's badly damaged plane to get in. He remembered the broken curses uttered when the explosion outside, far too close, stopped their hearts for a few horrid moments. He only needed to close his eyes to see the plane as it burst forth from the chute, splattering extinguishing foam all around and yet sizzling. And the frantic action that followed fire patrols swarming to finally put down the fire and let the service guys and medics to approach, Fonzo hammering the hood open, choking on the fumes even with his mask, engines that looked like a sickly inventive chef had artfully poured molten cheese all over them. And Osip, mercifully unconscious, suit partly burnt to his skin, slumped into the cockpit.

The chaotic images flashed through his mind, the lot of them practically tearing the plane apart in a frenzied effort to pry the badly injured man loose, the nauseating smell that seeped through every breathing mask, medics rushing Osip away, Fonzo throwing up and trying to wipe the bloody mess from his gloves...

Corinn took a deep breath and knew that he'd paled at the memory. Reluctantly he took the last swig from his mug, decided to leave the remaining pieces of food left on the plate, and crushed the nauseating memory firmly underfoot.

"Right!" He stood up briskly. "As soon as you're ready, kids, we're on our way!"

The perfectly innocent-looking and inconspicuous transport made its way down the mountainside and through the forest, and Scott stared wide-eyed at the scenery changing around them. He kept throwing wondering comments about the lush greenery in general and the fantastic shapes of the trees in particular, and howled in delight as they brushed underneath a drooping specimen so that its pendulous branches swept across the windscreen in a lime-green caress.

Finally they reached a solitary stretch of the highway and, after some lurking to make sure there was no one to observe their appearance from the wilderness, swung onto it and accelerated rapidly to look like they had always been part of the sparse traffic flow.

Scott looked ahead, face shining, visibly enjoying the speed.

"It would be nice to drive this!" he said and earned a wary glance from both Corinn and Lancer.

"I bet, kid," Corinn grinned, "and I also bet you'd master this vehicle within a few seconds. But sorry, I'm afraid that'd only get us caught for speeding, and that's something we don't want to risk."

"Speeding?"

"These main traffic routes have a speed limit," Lancer explained. "There's got to be some drawback to having the roads maintained in the first place."

"But why are we using the general roads anyway?" Scott wondered, blinking at a small vehicle that sped past them in a blur of riotous yellow and green. Corinn smiled wryly.

"That guy ought to get arrested," he huffed. "Putting everybody else in danger... Anyway, Scottie, that's because we want to look as ordinary and regular and non-attention-seeking as we can. Flying a transport plane to one of the airports means a lot more hassle and stuff, but driving an old hover transport to town along the regular road doesn't interest anybody... or shouldn't shit."

The last comment was prompted by a light flashing somewhere ahead of them, and Corinn slowed down. Lancer immediately slipped to the back of the vehicle pulling Scott with him, and together they slumped into the cozy seats trying to look casual. Of course the windows were one-way only, but that didn't make Lancer feel any less nervous as they approached the police vehicles that partly blocked the road.

Corinn frowned, then chuckled as he noticed the very same yellow-and-green monster that they had seen a few moments back, standing meekly by the roadside.

"Heh, my wishes have never been granted this quickly!" He pointed gleefully at the culprits. "Now let's hope it's just a routine stop check and nothing more."

Their transport crawled forward with the other vehicles, and Corinn sighed deep when the police appeared to be totally concentrated on their current catch. They soon sped up again and continued onwards at exactly the regulated speed, not wanting any more nasty surprises.

The outline of Trelissac city slowly hove into view. Scott regarded it with curiosity, Lancer battling against nostalgia. Here he had lived for a couple of years, right after quitting school and stunning his parents with his career dreams. They'd probably sort of assumed that he would follow his then-boyfriend who'd finished school the year before and begun his studies of economics in the nearby Lashcar University. The revelation that their son had no academic plans whatsoever and wanted instead to try his luck as a drag artist had elicited some gasps from his parents. But after some convincing they had agreed that yes, he had the voice and looks, and yes, if this was really what he wanted then he definitely should do it. They'd even paid his trip to Trelissac to be auditioned by Maurice, and sent him loads of congratulations when he had informed them that he'd indeed been signed as a trainee.

Lancer smiled ruefully. What did his parents do right now? Had he given them trouble by disappearing with a rebel pilot? Sure they had heard about it, but had there been more than the shock for them to bear? He hated to consider the possibility, and felt more than a little ashamed to realize this was the first time he really spared an entire thought to the matter.

Had they contacted Maurice? Did they know anything about what had truly happened? Maurice sure wouldn't have put them in danger by letting them know too much, but had he told them a single thing?

"Lancer, it looks so very beautiful!" Scott's gushing next to him dragged him back to the present. "I have never seen anything like it on any of the videos!"

Lancer nodded. He had always thought Trelissac a beautiful city. The entire cityscape had been obviously constructed with something organic in mind, and the result resembled a huge, elaborate, jungle-covered mountain, large rather than high. The city had multiple layers that meshed with each other, curving bridges and passage spirals winding their way over and across and between buildings and streets, elevated gangways and galleries crisscrossing from small plazas to shopping arcades and residential buildings, streets for ground vehicles intertwining with them like streams.

Right now both of the suns were up and their light was filtered and reflected by the structures above, reaching all the way down even to the lowest levels of the city and forming a filigree of shadows and sunny patches to play upon everybody and everything that moved there. And the plants Jainah was a fertile planet and Trelissac, one of its biggest and busiest cities, was something like a showcase of all the best things the place offered. You simply could not get anywhere outside without seeing trees, bushes, shrubbery, flowers, giant ferns, climbing plants, moss...

Scott was ecstatic. He simply couldn't get enough of all the fantastic shapes around him, and Lancer sorely regretted the fact that they couldn't go outside to enjoy it all. He would've loved to take Scott to see some of his favorite spots, like the plaza with a series of miniature waterfalls flowing over an artificial mountain covered with moss and reeds well, maybe "miniature" was too diminutive for a construction about five-six meters high, but anyway. Or the loose spiral of an elevator, right next to the Radysson Estates, that was covered from all sides by enormous hanging vines. But no, that'd be too risky. They simply could not afford the chance of being seen by someone who knew what a Union clone looked like. And Lancer had no illusions, Trelissac was very much a city in the grip of Ziroshel Union, even if its inhabitants accepted the status quo only grudgingly.

So he had to be satisfied with telling about the places and pointing out particularly interesting details to Scott while they drove from one place to another, Corinn jumping in and out of their transport to get supplies from various suppliers. The two passengers made themselves useful by neatly rearranging the things Corinn loaded in, and were kept moderately busy in the meantime by the cityscape around them.

"OK, kids, last stop Chez Maurice!" Corinn announced at last with a grin. "We have clearance to drive straight into the underground garage, so you can at last get out of this tin can and stretch your legs."

The gates of the garage closed behind them and the vehicle glided to a stop. A few uniformed men appeared at the door and Scott tensed immediately, but Lancer placed a placating hand on his arm.

"Calm down, Scott," he said. "They are Maurice's staff. Look, those are not military or police uniforms. Everybody working here just wears a similar kind of clothing."

"Oh, all right," Scott sighed and followed him and Corinn out of the transport. He was appropriately awed by the luxuriously decorated elevator that took them to an upper floor, and even more impressed by the stylish interior that was revealed when the elevator doors slid open again.

Lancer's heart was pounding as they walked along the carpeted corridor towards the familiar, dark paneled door of Maurice's office. It opened soundlessly when they were still a few steps away.

"Mr. Radysson," Corinn greeted the man who stood up from behind a lofty desk and scowled at him.

"It's Maurice, Mr. Jakunschek, how many times do I need to tell you?" Then his gaze fell on the two figures following Corinn and he gasped. "Rob Rob Lancer? Oh my god, is it really you?"

"Maurice..." Lancer swallowed and smiled at the incredulous expression of the man who walked towards him, cautiously as if approaching an apparition. "Hey, I'm real all right... not a holo or anything!"

"Rob!"

Maurice swept him into a tight hug, closed his eyes, buried his face in the blond hair. Corinn looked at them, smile nearly faltering. He couldn't help the thoughts that surfaced at the sight. Had those two perhaps been lovers? At least Lancer had never even hinted at it, but of course he might be reluctant to admit something that could easily smack of having slept his way to the top. Or, if they had not been lovers, had Lancer known that his former boss was in love with him? For that was definitely the case, Corinn was sure of it as he looked at the way the handsome manager embraced his former charge, holding him like something precious lost and found again.

The man had certainly known that Lancer was in Robillard all this time, but he'd been discreet about it, not once mentioning him upon Corinn's earlier visits. He hadn't inquired a single thing. But then, out of deep-rooted caution they never really talked about anything even remotely related to the rebellion not people, not events, nothing. Just the necessary exchange to get the necessary things sorted out, that was all. Besides, Maurice himself had arranged Lancer and Turner to be spirited out of the city, Corinn reminded himself, so at least they hadn't been lovers then. But if there'd never been anything, was Lancer really oblivious or did he just pretend to be?

Scott moved a little, nervously, and Corinn glanced at him. The sharp-featured face was tense; Scott clearly felt the electricity in the air but couldn't understand what was going on. Corinn was just about to say something when Maurice took a deep breath and held Lancer at an arm's length.

"You look good, Rob," he said. "And you look happy."

"That's because I am happy," Lancer replied, smile glittering in his eyes. "I know it's crazy, all things considered, but I'm insanely happy."

He pulled out of Maurice's grasp and went to Scott, wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "And the big reason for this is standing right here. Maurice, I want you to meet Scott."

Corinn watched closely as Maurice greeted Scott, but did not notice anything amiss in his attitude. Scott smiled in response to the man, obviously relaxing again, and they sat down in the armchairs that were artfully cluttered in one corner, next to a wall-high window.

Light seeping through the curtains played on Maurice's slate-dark hair and it also revealed the magnificent scenery that again grabbed Scott's attention.

"My men are loading the supplies in your transport," the man said to Corinn who merely nodded. "They have to be handled pretty carefully and secured properly in place, so it'll take a while. Would you have lunch with me... or whatever this meal should be called? For me it'd be lunch anyway."

"We'd love to!" Lancer assured eagerly. "And I'd like to hear who's still here and who isn't, and how everybody's doing."

"Mmm, well, one lunch isn't long enough to tell all that," Maurice chuckled. "I think I'll just tell the juiciest things. Now, where do I begin? Well, Jacques is of course here, with Queen Dianne getting bitchier than ever and everybody adoring her for it. Toni has left, decided he'd like to try something as himself... oh, and then I've got a new guy who's really going to be a star!"

"Tell me about him," Lancer demanded, eagerly sipping his multi-colored drink.

"Well, André is everything a drag artist could hope for. Beautiful face, gorgeous hair, fabulous voice, and male."

"Better than Marie?"

Corinn studied his drink intently, trying hard not to chuckle at the nearly-suppressed streak of professional jealousy in Lancer's tone. Maurice looked at Lancer, this time not even trying to hide the melancholy, and shook his head.

"No. As good probably." Maurice turned to glimpse at his watch. "In fact, I think you might get an eyeful of him before our meal is ready. He should be here right now, training."

He saw the wistful, curious and warning glances that his guests shot at each other, and added: "And you don't need to worry about him seeing you. I'll take you to the gallery above the stage, the one with one-way windows."

"Well all right," Corinn grumbled, in reality at least as eager as his companions to see the future queen. "Lead the way!"

"I knew you couldn't resist," Maurice grinned. "Follow me. We'll use the private elevator so nobody will see you for sure."

Scott's hand slipped into Lancer's as they walked along the corridor into another elevator that took them a few floors down, and onwards into a dark, curving passage. It went all around the stage in the middle of the restaurant and served as headquarters for the light and sound engineers and their equipment, and therefore offered an excellent vantage point to whatever was going on in the place.

The side from which they entered was in the back, and before leading them on Maurice stopped to turn a small dial that obviously increased the volume of sounds transmitted there from the stage. At first it was so silent that they doubted they had, after all, come at the wrong time, but then they heard a few shuffling steps and talking.

Lancer's eyes watered as he heard the hoarse voice of the old trainer so the man was still working there! And who better but him with his infallible ear, enormous experience and endless patience would be able to hone the diamonds that Maurice wanted to put on the stage? The man was giving instructions on a piece of music to someone who was content to utter the occasional 'mm-hmm' and 'I see', unfortunately revealing very little of his vocal quality.

The eavesdroppers walked on, and Lancer stopped when the other person suddenly began to sing. The voice was very soft, very smooth, very velvety, about the same pitch as his own but slightly more metallic in timbre. Lancer listened closely. Damn, he would've liked to try out how they'd sound together...

"Come over here," Maurice said quietly, a few meters ahead of them. "Here you can see him, too."

"Oh wow!" breathed Corinn and his jaw dropped. Lancer took a few quick steps, Scott trailing behind, and turned to look through the slanted window.

But he didn't have very much time to take in the sight of elastic limbs, extremely photogenic face and unbelievable, nearly waist-long mane of golden hair before Scott beside him let out something like a squeak, dug his steel-hard fingers into Lancer's arm and wrested him a few meters backwards. The reaction was so frantic that their legs entangled and they nearly fell down, and Lancer winced as his shoulder hit the wall.

"Scott! Scott, what's wrong with you?"

Lancer yelped again when Scott grabbed both of his arms with as much force as before, panting and looking somewhere behind Lancer. "Scott! Listen to me! What's the matter?"

"Don't go there, Lancer!" Scott was nearly incoherent. "Don't go!"

"What's the matter?" Corinn approached them cautiously, unsure of what had caused the reaction. "You weren't scared of the floor-to-ceiling windows before, remember."

"No, no no no," Scott quickly shook his head and swallowed. "Don't go there, he will see you! Corinn, come away from there at once..."

"Who? What are you talking about?" Lancer managed to pry one arm loose of the bruising grip and raised his hand to touch Scott's face.

"There's no one but André down there, and of course old Stevenson." Maurice stood next to Corinn looking worried. "And they can't see us anyway, not through that glass."

But Scott didn't look convinced. "Lancer, we must go away at once, he must not see me, he must not see us."

"Scott!" Lancer got another arm free and shook Scott gently. "They can't see us here! And it's just André "

"That's no 'André', Lancer!" Scott hissed in panic. "That's a T!"


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