For the past seven months, Krev buys his glitterstim in the Nagabto projects.
It goes like this:
He has to wake up earlier than he usually does — at about 10 or 10:20. On these days — they happen once every third week, but the day varies — Krev almost never has a breakfast. Calling what he generally has a breakfast is a stretch, but on the procurement days, he doesn't fancy even what's left of yesterday's instant supper. Cafstim is all he gets, and even that not every time.
He took an orbital taxi twice, but that shit's expensive. With no new sources of money in sight, he has to be more considerate — and to wake up as early as he does.
He takes a bus to the Together Theater Station. Arbeno Plaza is three stops closer to his home, but that line — the magenta one, the word being a courtesy of some old ladies he's overheard in the subway — gets rush-houred far worse than the plain yellow he rides. Takes him about fifty minutes, the record being fifty-eight, less to get to the Southern Industrial Zone. True, he only went magenta two times, but that was enough for him. Not enough progress — as in, feeling of it.
He goes exactly one station northwest on the SIZ ring and then gets out. Tumina Station, this one's called. T MINA, if you believe the holosign on its wall — but that was fixed maybe a month ago, taking Krev's thing to muse routinely about. There are two exits: one to the elevators and the other down to the planet's surface. Nobody sensible uses the second one. Once, Krev even had to get into an argument with a station droid for it to open that exit for him.
But that exit is brilliant. It's the best thing in the world. It's every single thing you say to your abusive spouse. It's all the difference between three hours and forty minutes — and when it's the Big G day, it's all the difference in the world.
Krev doesn't put the Big G day off until the last Big G day's catch is over, of course. He goes when there's still some left. But there's always that thought: what if something goes wrong? What if the brothers got their due? They could have. They actively can every day.
So there's always a chance you'll come back to what you have left. Krev thinks having no water in a desert is better than having just a tiny bit. The former whips you to action. With the latter, all you can think about is preserving it.
Anyway, the surface exit. The thing about it — Krev discovered it all on his own after one of his purchase trips — is that it's about fifteen minutes of walking away from the Arkania Boulevard Station — well, its old entrance that nobody is using nowadays but nobody bothers to lock. The same Arkania Boulevard Station you'd need to ride almost a quarter of the SIZ ring to transfer to the pale-green line and then ride eighteen pale-green stations to get to.
And then it's twenty minutes down the pale-green line — the one that runs almost parallel to Krev's yellow one right up to the Astronavigation Museum and then diverges a bit. Following that bit, it comes to Nagabto projects.
That's it. The whole trip costs less than half of what it would to ride a cab straight to the projects. Depending on traffic, it takes anywhere from about the same time to adding an extra half-hour.
Now, Krev is standing in a small platform halfway up one of the towers. Nagabto is a surprisingly decent place on the outside. Take this platform — it got a little park going on, a couple of trees in pots, that sort of thing. There are always some clowns performing on the airbridge that leads here from the station exit. Some artists, too — when it's not raining. The towers looks newish — the kind of new that's new more out of a habit than actual newness.
Krev has lit up a cigarette back on the other side of the bridge — like he always does, regardless of rain. Gives him a minute to finish it on the platform before going in. Not that it'd be a big problem to go in with a little smoke — not like half the smoke sensors in the towers are stripped down. You can get a pretty thorough idea of which apartments smokers live in just by looking up while inside.
Still, Krev prefers not to. You never know when a non-smoker is going to go out one of the flats, and you never know if he's going to be a two-hundred kilo Wookiee who feels real strong about lung cancer. Krev's never had this problem since he got too fast for his mother to catch him — he smokes where and when he wanted since — but here in the projects... Fuck the projects. Krev knows he doesn't want to get into fights here.
It's weird. Nagabto looks decent and stands in a decent place. It should be a middle-class building, but it is what it is.
Maybe the brothers are to blame.
To meet the brothers, you go three levels up from the platform and then down the corridor. Notice the kids — they're running around these corridors no matter what time of day it is. Krev's been here at 8 or 9 in the evening — same picture. Same kids. All running. Some are flying hoverboards. They are the best earners.
The kids' task is to make the projects look normal. And — to watch the road into the brothers' den. If a raid happens, they'll raise alarm and maybe create a chaos in the corridors, buying the more valuable members of the operation some time. Maybe some will get wounded in the process. If the wounds are bad enough, the kid may get a short note on a local Holonet news page. That won't earn him a hoverboard, though.
On a normal day — such as this one — the kids are just here to evaluate a visitor. They know Krev, so they run and glide to him at once, without circling around him first.
"Hey, mister! Go this way!"
"No, fuck you! You have enough for today! Here!"
"The best there is right behind this door, mister!"
It's all the same behind every door, of course, and all comes from the brothers.
Krev hates choosing. Can't help but pity the kids he doesn't follow — but also the one he does.
Still keeps coming here, huh?
Behind each door is an apartment. Krev's seen adults in some, usually high as an orbital station. There's nobody in the one he enters today. Each apartment has undergone some major replanning and is connected to the upper levels via a corkscrew staircase. No way it's been cleared by a construction safety compliance department or whatever it's called. The thing today's kid disappears on: look how it shivers with every step he takes some floors up. At least this way, bigger kids won't take the dope from him.
You can tell somebody still uses the apartment as intended, the staircase notwithstanding — there are two mattresses on the floor, one really old and the other quite new and fancy, if you don't mind a large, clearly vomit-produced spot on it.
Far as spice dens go, this isn't too bad. You don't see any syringes lying around and hey, the vomit has been cleaned off the mattress. The brothers know how to keep their clientele happy.
The brothers. Krev's old dealer referred him to them when Krev came back from Fucktwerp Bannison. "I don't do it anymore, man," he was saying; he obviously didn't recognize Krev after ten years, but his professional pride wouldn't allow him to admit it. "I did my time. I leave the can, it's a different market. It's all about the Roeia Brothers now."
He relayed to Krev that the brothers had come from Haruun Kal and installed their hegemony in the Southern Hemisphere Free Trade Zone drug-wise, and in the words of the ex-dealer, their story sounded like an ancient epic, full of brutality and understanding that the brothers' own tale will end in more of that like tales of all empires inevitably do. They practice a religion they brought from their home planet, the ex-dealer said, and they can't stand aliens. "They found me the day after I got out," he told Krev, "caught me near the club. 'If you as much as think about going back to your old life,' they said, and they kept a vibroblade pressed to my ribs the entire time, 'if you as much as think about going back to your old life, we'll cut your Zeltron ass into easy-to-conceal pieces.' My great-grandpa was Zeltron, man, I don't even look that pink." The brothers had taken the Sleepies' business and popped every last Sleepy they could find, and then they destroyed the Swoop-Tooth chapter which technically wasn't in their neighborhood but in Golab Wass's neighborhood, and Golab Wass didn't make a peep.
The kid comes back from the Great Upstairs. Krev entertains a thought: to ask him if he's ever met the brothers. He never really intends to do it, of course.
He leaves the projects twenty-two hundred lighter and five hundred milligram heavier. Once a month's worth, now maybe three weeks'.
I've got a nervous job, Krev jokes, lighting up a cigarette. Gotta increase my medication.
Every time he's leaving Nagabto, he wants to promise himself he's not coming back.
Maybe I could find somewhere... other than this. Somewhere where at least no kids are involved.
But he knows it ain't happening. Going on tours across places where shit used to be sold is bad mojo: people are aware of what used to be done there. People like cops — or the brothers.
Yeah, and good luck finding an operation where they don't use kids. I'd be amazed if there are actual gangsters sitting there on the upper floors instead of more kids. The fucking brothers probably don't even show up here in person.
He's not so keen to go home. Has to — to deposit the glitterstim. But what home does lately is remind him he's running out of money. He thought Alnam's fund would last him for longer — some years, maybe.
Expensive life I'm living. Fucking HB, taxiing all over the place... Might as well start selling Mon Cal art for real — just need to steal it first.
About that. He asked Vad about family — in that way — shortly before the Fete. They were all sotted by that point, so Krev thought what the hell. Vad's answer turned from answer to a long, meandering dialogue with only Vad speaking. The answer was: not good. Not good for Vad, not good for Krev.
Vad's not going away, but neither is he coming back. And Ormi Alnam... well, she must be okay with that. Maybe it's safer that way.
In other words, Krev's fucked. Not in that way.
It's okay. I can live with that. It would've been an awkward arrangement otherwise.
Why, then, can't he just get over it?
"You got over it?" he asks Sorval the next time they meet.
"I guess."
"You guess? What's with this guessing shit? Didn't try an experiment or something?"
"A fucking experiment?"
"Yeah, like talking to her. To see, you know, if the old passion is still there."
"What the fuck, man. Did I say something wrong?"
"No. Why?"
"Why are you so passive-aggressive, then?"
"I'm not. I don't know. Bnagen, most likely. She won't talk to me."
"Don't tell me you're interested—"
"She won't talk to me about business, you fucking comedian."
"You think she's onto you?"
"Nah. It's that reptile fuck always circling us as soon as I enter the base."
"Oh yeah. Her brother's spy. Real inconspicuous, that one."
"And I thought we were friends after that crackdown."
"I guess he just compartmentalizes well. You know, separates work from personal stuff."
"The worst thing, she doesn't seem like she minds him. Don't tell me there's nowhere she could send him so we can talk."
"Man, I told you: there's no news, really."
"As soon as I try to suggest it, she gets all defensive, like she doesn't actually want me in on it."
"There's nothing to tell, that's it."
"That is, unless you're part of her conspiracy."
Sorval makes a token smile. "You need a distraction from all this shit, man."
"Oh, I get plenty distracted. All it does is make me more anxious."
"Yeah, that's the thing about your kind of distractions."
"Is that right? What do you suggest? That I go to the movies or something?"
"I don't get the sarcasm. It sure sounds not as self-destructive as the shit you're usually up to. Listen, seriously: you can't live like that, when it's just drugs and anxiety."
"One fixes the other. Works both ways."
"It doesn't fix anything. It's some fucked-up cycle you got going, my friend."
"Yeah, whatever. That's who I am."
"And that's who you'll fucking die if you don't get a grip."
What a fucking snot, Krev thinks going home. Thinks he's the smartest man alive. Just drop the drugs, dude. They're bad for you. Thanks, sure will. How was I so stupid?
Maybe I can get into rehab once this is all over, he thinks. Well, that's a big maybe. Maybe — and this one is a much smaller one — I won't be in any condition to get anywhere, one way or another. No rehabs for you when you're dead, and as for prisons... depends on the prison.
Would be funny if they sent him to Kessel.
Once this is over, he thinks. What makes you think it's gonna be?
My inborn optimism, that's what. The same thing that makes me think that maybe Vad will reconsider and stop dragging his marriage along like a corpse in a coffin. You decide how big this maybe is.
The lizard isn't happy to see him.
"You come here frequently," he hisses. "What reason?"
"Why? I can't come visit my friends?"
"You forgot about the police?"
"You forgot it was COMPOR?"
"Tuu says so. I don't know. I saw police. Whatever it was, it's not the best time for visitations."
"You all hang around here all the time anyway. What difference does it make?"
The reptilian pupils follow him and make him follow them.
Tuu surely didn't tell him, right?
"If the cops are after you, they will come here," Kadrur replies.
"Yeah, except they know about this place already."
"They don't know if we are still here."
"For fuck's sake, I come to talk business, and this is how I'm treated."
"We don't want to get fucked again, that's all. Accept no offense."
"We still may if we keep hanging out here. I get it's not officially in Tuu's or anybody's name, but—"
"Take it with Tuu."
Take it up your ass, Krev thinks.
Tuu isn't impressed with his concerns, either — nor with his visit.
"Where can we go? Live in your apartment?"
"You never thought they might check the guy this place belongs to in their registers? Question him, you know?"
"He doesn't exist."
"He doesn't exist?"
"No. A paper man."
"Alright," Krev says, eyeing Kadrur — the Trandoshan stands leaning against the doorframe, half in the room and half-not. "Any news?"
"What news would that be?"
"I don't know. Any?"
"No, there are no news, Krev. Frankly, your being here doesn't help."
"Help with what? Getting news?"
Kadrur doesn't really react to the flow of the conversation. He's listening, though.
"Listen," Krev says, "I got nothing to do since the bust. Not gonna lie, my morale was dipping long before it."
"After they killed the Jedi."
Krev nods.
"So now, I mean, there's jack all for me to do. I brought you Batur — that gave me a bit of a reason not to walk out my window for a while — but now I'm back to square one."
"What do you want? They did bust us."
"Fucking COMPOR," Kadrur wedges in.
"I don't know," Krev says. "Something that's not this. I remember coming here the first few times. Fuck, I hated you. All of you. But I knew we were doing stuff. I knew it was going somewhere."
"Don't worry," Tuu says tiredly, "I know what I'm doing. It doesn't look like I do, but I do. We're going to make a comeback, I promise."
"I don't really see how."
"That's what I just said."
"Maybe you can say something other than this so I actually get a picture of your superb scheme?"
"I can't. Sorry."
Now Krev has to keep going, though he'd like to leave: it's already clear he won't be getting any news today.
Not with the fucking Trandoshan haunting the place.
"You can't? Why not?"
"Because I can't."
"Great. Just what I wanted to hear. My confidence is through the roof."
"You have a problem, Krev?" Kadrur says.
"Yeah, I do, matter of fact."
"I see that," the Trandoshan smiles — or not; it's hard to tell with Trandoshans. "You need to relax."
Krev turns back to Tuu. "Give me something to relax. Give me something to do before I go mad."
"I don't know, why don't you write some more about the orders? It seemed to have a positive effect on you."
"You know what's gonna be a positive effect? Knowing where the fuck you're going. Because right now, I'm getting the impression I'm being sidelined. And I think I have a reason for it."
"Krev..." Tuu says with extreme disappointment.
"What, you don't like where I'm going with it? Makes you uncomfortable? To realize maybe you're not really that different from all those Human fuckers who bang on how you can't trust aliens?"
It's all a show for one reptilian viewer, of course, but the one who gets uncomfortable watching it is Krev.
Don't be surprised if you wake up one night to see the Trand, he thinks later. He's a klutz, that one. Can and will wake you up before bashing your brains out. And then he'll go back to Bnagen and she'll pretend like she's shocked at what happened. Will probably refuse to talk to the motherfucker for two days.
It's all fun and games while he entertains the possibility as a joke, but the joke grows too stale and too real too soon.
Fuck, maybe I should get a blaster, he thinks jokingly — for now.
He tries talking to Toj Mer the day after.
"She told me there was something big coming, but now she's all clammed up," he complains. "I don't even wanna know what she's up to. It's her call. But the attitude — that's what I don't like."
"Something big? That doesn't sound good."
Krev eyes the Gossam. "Wait, so you don't... you don't know?"
"What? Know what it is about?"
"You know her brother? Cousin, whatever? On Gamorr?"
"She mentioned something like that. I don't really remember. Why?"
Mer's voice is getting nervous.
Good, Krev thinks, even though he knows it's not.
"So you never met him?"
"No. I'm not even sure if it's a he."
"And Kadrur never spoke about him to you?"
"What the fuck? Why this interest in Tuu's cousins all of a sudden?"
"What, you think I'm a cop, after all?"
"What? Goodness, no. But... You know, Tuu hasn't been herself lately. All secrety with Kadrur all the time... the rest of us? Not a word. Can I be honest with you, Krev?"
One of us may — just to spice things up.
"Sure."
"I'm having serious concerns."
"About what?"
"The way she's running things. I mean, I get it: she can't do much given how the Confederacy's doing, but... maybe it would've been better for us to call it a day, so to speak?"
"And what about your wife?"
"She's been deported already, so..."
"So Tuu never mentioned anything big to you? Some big score coming or something?"
"No. I don't think so. What did she tell you?"
"Can I be honest with you?"
"Sure."
"She told me something alright. I guess only Kadrur and I know — and Kadrur doesn't know I know."
"What is it?"
"If you tell him what I'm about to tell you, you might as well push me," Krev nods to the edge of the platform they're on, "right now. He learns, he forgets all his newfound appreciation for us mammals."
"Don't have to tell me twice, even though I'm not a mammal."
Krev tries to smile. "She sent one girl to Rothana. It's her cousin's slave, long story."
"What? He's a slaver?"
"Long story, I told you. It's not important. She sent her to Rothana. To infiltrate ConCare, you know."
"Shit!"
"Yeah. Well, and I guess there aren't many Rodians on Rothana, so she actually found herself a guy who works for ConCare. Or maybe she's full of it, I don't know. I know I'd be if I smelled a way out of slavery on fucking Gamorr. Or maybe it's Tuu who's full of it. I legit can't tell."
"So what? What did she find out?"
"Nothing so far. Or as far as Tuu reports to me. Which she fucking doesn't, since her cousin has Kadrur watching her so that she doesn't tell a Human about this. I'm surprised she didn't tell you, though. As you said, you're not even mammalian."
"What do you think I am to her? To all of them? A funny fucking midget they can boss around however they please. Go watch an entire monad for two weeks? Go follow a dude four times bigger and ten times stronger than me? Sure, why the fuck not."
"Was that supposed to be a jab at me?"
Toj Mer gives a joyless chuckle.
"And you know," he says, "how many of them wanted to listen about Jel? Even once? Nobody. Nobody at all. They saw their duty to me fulfilled once they accepted me into their secret fucking club. From there on, there was only my duty to them."
Krev sighs — both internally and externally.
"Can you distract Kadrur for me?"
"You mean—"
"Just so I can talk to her. Get an actual update."
"Man, I don't..."
"Look. I got no trust in Tuu anymore. Maybe she takes the CIS shit too seriously. I don't know, I don't care. What I care about is righting at least something. Which is probably not much, but... you know. And I think, I think my texts — the ones I used to write — they can do something good. Now if I learn what that Rodian found out on Rothana—"
"I get it, but... distract Kadrur..."
"I mean, Tuu told me herself about all this. The slave girl and everything. She won't be a problem. I'll find a way to make her talk. It's the lizardman who's the problem."
"What about your homie? The Devaronian?"
"I could use him, but it's gonna be too suspicious. He's a new guy. Even the squid brothers will get that something's wrong if he tries to lure Kadrur away from Tuu and me."
Toj sits silently for a minute — just sighs every now and then.
"Okay," he says finally, "let's say — and I'm not saying I will, but for the sake of the argument — let's say I will do it. But what if there's nothing she can tell you right now?"
"What do you mean?"
"What if there's no update? Then what?"
"Then we'll try again."
"No. Even if it works once, it won't work the second time. Do you think Kadrur is stupid? He will realize something's up if every time we all gather together, I invite him outside for some reason."
"Doesn't have to be every time," Krev says.
Toj is unconvinced. Krev has to agree: it's better to do it as late as possible, but the inaction is killing him.
So bringing Sorval in was pointless — if she didn't tell Toj, she won't tell him. He's too new. Too much of a mammal, too, I assume.
Three days later, he wakes up to a comlink call. It's barely seven in the morning.
"What the fuck?" he asks Sorval. "Don't tell me it's Benduday already and I slept through our jag."
"You're not gonna believe this. I just got out of our friend's home."
"What friend?"
"You know, the green one. Well, I'm five blocks away already, so I'm calling you. Man, I think I got a chubby out of it."
"Out of what? Calling me? Sorry, I—"
"I'm telling you, you're not gonna believe this. Let's meet where we went for computer parts in two hours."
Krev looks at the watch again. "Two hours? Can't it wait until the regular time?"
"When I tell you, you'll know it can't. And we're not going to the usual place."
"Okay. Is it... that serious?"
"You'll see."
Strange — it doesn't crank Krev's anxiety up. Maybe it's something in the demonman's voice, maybe something in something else. But Krev doesn't worry — although he knows he should.
It feels... it feels as if everything's about to end. Today. And when everything ends today, there's no point worrying how it will end, is there? Whatever it is, it'll be over soon. Waiting for a battle is frightening. Fighting is not. Fighting is just fighting.
He meets Sorval in THE Orion. Doesn't mind if it ends here.
"I thought you weren't coming," Sorval tells him.
Krev checks his watch again: "What, fifteen minutes is too much for you? You woke me up earlier than I ever got up on Coruscant."
"I thought you held a real job here once."
"That was too long ago. So. What is it?"
"As I said — you're not gonna believe it."
"Try me."
"I was drinking with Kadrur the whole night—"
"Yeah? I could tell by looking at you."
Strange: now, he takes these little opportunities to postpone the revelation time.
"What does that lizard drink, anyway?" Krev takes another opportunity. "You sure it's not gonna acid through your stomach?"
"It's our special aaaaaaylien booze. Humans need not apply. Anyway. You gonna let me finish? Thanks. So... they had a transmission from Rodia."
"Rodia?"
"Rothana. Fuck. That girl, well... I mean, I didn't see shit myself, but Kadrur, he was all over it."
"What? Did she... did they crack her?"
"No. She fucking cracked them."
Krev's unsure he's breathing. He jerks his head: go on.
"She or her boyfriend, I don't know. Don't care, either. Hell, I don't even know if it's legit, man, but... gotta say, it really looks like it is."
"So what the fuck is it?"
"She found some files in their system. Turns out, well, they have been experimenting on clones."
"Well, that's great to know. I'm glad Brate wasn't trying to prank us with his diaries. A load off my mind."
"Well, maybe let me finish, you miserable old cynic? They had been doing that long before the war."
Krev sits in silence for a moment.
"Wait," he says, "before the war as in 'they had been experimenting' or 'they had been experimenting on clones?'"
"On clones. On cocksucking motherfucking clones."
Krev sits in silence some more.
"Pretty good, huh?" Sorval asks.
"How do we know they didn't use other people back then?"
"He said there's everything in those documents. Like, they specifically refer to the test subjects as clones. And it's dated 10, 11, you know, maybe even earlier."
"You saw that shit?"
"No. Kadrur told me."
"Where are those files? Tuu's computer?"
"I assume."
"Was she there?"
"Was she where? We were at his place."
"Ah," Krev beams. "Ah. So what did it take? A blowjob?"
"Fuck you. Which I'd rather than putting it in anything as toothy as a Trandoshan."
Krev lets it be a pause. Toys with his lighter.
"So was she there?" he asks then.
"No."
"She doesn't know he told you?"
"He wasn't acting on her orders, I can tell you that. Took him a couple bottles before he sang."
"He saw those documents? Personally?"
Sorval stares at him. Then gives an angry shrug.
"He wasn't clear. But I asked him, Krev — don't you fucking think there I didn't. I was just a little too enigmated at that point. Guess I didn't pressure him enough."
"That's for the best. But did he what, just tell you? Out of the blue?"
"What, are you suspecting something?"
"Please. I know you're a sweetheart. How can I suspect you?"
"Not me, you moron. Foul play. On their part."
"I don't fucking know. I need to mull it over."
"Yeah, you might wanna start right now, because this shit just got from zero to ten thousand."
"So did he do it... unprompted-like? Or..?"
"Of course he did! How could I fucking prompt him? I couldn't even imagine that! That whole plan, man... I didn't even think it was gonna work."
"They were lobotomizing clones in 10..."
"Uh-huh. Before the war. He was very clear about that."
"Maybe it's not the Republic's clones?"
"Kadrur says there are pictures there, everything. The clones."
"He said that? I thought he didn't say he saw the files."
"Look, he didn't say it was anything else, okay? Which he would've if it was."
Krev knows himself too well to think this argument is going to last against his paranoia.
"He's not a Human. It's hard for him to tell us apart. Maybe he thought it was a Republic clone when it wasn't, assuming he actually read that file?"
"You and your theories, man. I don't know, maybe. Or maybe this whole thing falls into our lap and you immediately catch a bad case of coldfeetis."
"I just wanna be sure."
"I'm sure you do. Think logically for a second: if what I'm telling you isn't just my drunk dream, Bnagen will tell you."
"Not with Kadrur around she won't."
"So what, do you want me to make him disappear? She will. She has no choice. It's new information. She needs you to write about it. You did it best — Agvar and Triskin got nothing on you. You saw it — the fucking chancellor had to murder a Jedi on air to kill the buzz you started. And this shit? It's big. It's the biggest. It means the Republic knew about clones years in advance. ConCare, it's always been a Republic thing. She needs you to wrap it all in a jacket the Reps will eat. Not the fucking jacket, you get my meaning..."
He keeps talking, but Krev is drifting away.
It wasn't a battle, after all. It was an after-battle report.
His battle keeps looming. It will keep looming for a while, by the looks of it.
And then it will probably strike him when he doesn't expect — so he has to be actively expecting it all the time.
Enough to drive a man mad.