PREDATORY PRACTICES
A Tech Infantry Novella
by
Edward Stasheff & Marcus Johnston
Copyright © 2011
Chapter 21: Bear Market
Even after finding the beacon signal from the Alpha Centauri hypergate, the Avarice still had several days' travel ahead of them before they reached that border system between the Empire and the Federation. Under different circumstances, it would have been a time to celebrate a mission completed and a contract successfully fulfilled… but no one felt like partying. The K'Nes were too busy licking their wounds and fleeing for their lives (and cargo). They still weren't quite safe yet—the worst of the danger was behind them, true, but they were still in enemy territory, and the nervous tension lingered in the air. So instead of celebrating, they spent the travel time regrouping, repairing, recuperating... and mourning.
The price of victory had been high: four K'Nes hunters dead and five more wounded; a full half of the Miao Mercantile Mercenary Company had become casualties. Narrah assured Heth it was an acceptable loss, well within the expected twenty to thirty percent depreciation rate of unit value—it was just the cost of doing the business of war, nothing more. Somehow, that didn't make Heth feel any better.
He wondered… if he'd been told in advance that the price of the hypergate would be M'Rowr's life, would he have taken the deal? M'Rowr had been more than his older cousin, he'd been Heth's most loyal employee and friend. And I left him behind in that cave on Cronos, he thought with a twinge of guilt. Now they didn't even have M'Rowr's body for a proper funeral.
To be fair, none of the bodies of hunters killed in action had been recovered. Their withdraw through the transit portal under fire had been so chaotic, so confused, there simply wasn't time. The humans hadn't been able to retrieve their dead either—Sky Father above, the living had barely made it out in time! They had just one K'Nes corpse, and that only because the wounded hunter made it back to the Avarice alive, but died in the medical bay from her head injury soon after.
Everyone was determined to give her a dignified funeral, though. She deserved nothing less for paying the highest price to help advance her corporate clan. Besides, it was in her employment contract; Narrah had made sure of that. So they followed the traditional K'Nes death rituals: her healthy organs and other biological assets were harvested and cryogenically frozen for medical resale, with the profits going to her next of kin. The rest of her remains were vacuum-sealed in a small cargo capsule for storage and transport, then moved to the transit bay, where the super-freighter's crewcats and hunters gathered to pay their final respects (cash only, proceeds to next of kin).
The military had their own rites and practices for a fallen coworker, and as Heth was technically a member of the mercenary company, he found himself participating in it. All the surviving hunters, even the wounded, assembled in tight cloud formation and, on command from Narrah, deflated as one and fell to the deck, tails lowered, ears down and back, cowering toward the casket—not in fear, but as a sign of respect. It was the only time a K'Nes hunter was supposed to cringe (in theory, at least; Heth was fairly sure he'd broken that rule a dozen times on Cronos).
Then came the final ceremony: the reading of the will and division of property. It was a ritual as old as time, a gentle reminder of the natural business cycle of live: the older generation cashing out and reinvesting in the younger. At least, that was what K'Nes told themselves, and Heth found the thought comforting. Individuals are born and die, generations come and go, but family fortunes can last forever.
As the formalities drew to a close, Heth knew he had one final responsibility to fulfill. He wasn't particularly looking forward to it—in fact, he dreaded it—but he had to. So as the hunters fell out of formation and dispersed, he sought out Surra, M'Rowr's mate. She had pointedly ignored Heth ever since finding out he'd left M'Rowr behind—and, frankly, Heth considered himself lucky that she'd restrained herself to that instead of clawing his throat out. But he'd made M'Rowr a promise, so he plucked up his courage and approached his cousin's widow and her cubs. "Excuse me, Surra… a moment, if you would?"
The hefty brown tabby glared down at him. "What do you want, short-hair?"
Heth swallowed and pushed ahead. "I… need to inform you of a clause in a contractual agreement."
"Oh yeah?" she replied with equal parts apathy and contempt. "What clause?" Surra's cubs looked on, apprehensive.
"Well, just before we infiltrated the Cialt Abbey, M'Rowr and I struck a deal."
Surra sniffed the air, whiskers twitching, suspicious. "What kind of deal?"
"In the event that one of us didn't make it back, the other would support their cubs." It was a very generous interpretation of a very brief and informal conversation, made all the more suspect by the fact that Heth didn't have any cubs… but he couldn't make this look like charity. Surra and her cubs still had their pride, after all.
It caught the sturdy tabby off guard—but she wasn't about to object to the deal, especially if she might profit from it. She glanced back at her cubs, all of whom suddenly looked far happier than anyone who'd so recently lost their sire had any right to be. She looked back at Heth and narrowed her eyes. "This contract written and blood-signed?"
Heth shook his head. "Just a verbal agreement."
"Audio recorded?"
"No, off the record."
Surra jabbed a claw at him. "If you're trying to squirm out of a legally-binding obligation, short-hair—"
Heth cut her off with a raised paw. "Please, Surra. We're Miao. A deal is a deal. I'm fully prepared to honor my end of the bargain."
Surra was silent a moment. "Alright then… what form of support? Financial? Monthly stipend?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of business school tuition," Heth hedged. "Perhaps securing them a good position within the company?"
"Salaried, with full benefits?" she growled.
And thus negotiations began. It went badly for Heth; Surra knew he was haggling over the price to buy off his shame and remorse, and she exploited that to maximum effect. By the end, Heth had agreed to far more than he'd planned on trying to ease his guilty conscience. It didn't work, of course… but it helped.
By the time they left, the transit bay was all but empty, save for a pair of crewcats hauling away the casket to deep storage for the long journey home. When their super-freighter next visited the Purrfang system, the fallen hunter's funerary shipping container would be launched into T'Ssowll, the huge gas giant that loomed over the K'Nes home world, and her spirit would rest forevermore under the protection of Sky Father.
The humans, meanwhile, were busy with their own curious funeral customs. The first part was a somber affair full of praying and singing, followed by a loud and raucous ritual called a "wake" (presumably because it lasted late into the humans' nocturnal cycle when they would normally be sleeping) that seemed to consist mostly of dancing, more signing, and consuming heroic amounts of the kosher wine Heth had sold them for the occasion.
Heth would never understand humans.
When the Avarice reached the Alpha Centauri system a couple days later, everyone relaxed—a little. Technically, Alpha Centauri wasn't enemy territory… but it wasn't exactly friendly territory, either. The star system wasn't neutral so much as simply empty. A frontier colony way out on the edge of explored space, whose entire population had been wiped out by the Sakras Plague decades ago, held little strategic or economic value. Consequently, neither the Federation nor the Empire had bothered to claim it.
According to the most recent intelligence reports Captain Gergenstein had provided to Heth, a few Earth Fleet patrol ships had been stationed in Alpha Centauri for decades, enforcing the quarantine of the infected planet by chasing away looters and scavengers. Shortly after war broke out, the Empire sent a few gunboats of their own to guard the hypergate to the Earth system… but, curiously, no one had fired a shot yet. The two tiny pickets merely eyed each other suspiciously, watching warily for any signs of a "back door" invasion of their respective factions through the backwater star system. Heth suspected both crews were more than content to wait out the war in Alpha Centauri, far from the front lines.
Heth, however, had no opportunity and even less desire to verify his hypothesis. Rameth didn't even risk entering the system. The Avarice never left hyperspace, merely jumped between hyperspace lanes instead—a much simpler task now that the signal beams were so close together. Although the Alpha Centauri-San Angeles spacelane was only for military use and the beacon signal encrypted, Captain Gergenstein had provided Heth with a single-use access code. Thankfully, it worked, the super-freighter locked onto the San Angeles beacon signal, and they were on their way. A few more days, and they'd finally reach Federation space and safety.
Or so they thought.
Revolutions, quite frankly, were bad for business—and the San Angeles system was no exception.
When they arrived, Heth was surprised (and alarmed) to discover the Avarice was in another political no-man's land. Apparently, while Heth had been busy on Cronos, San Angeles had fallen victim to the "Red Spring" riots that Chairman Smythe had mentioned. The local population had rebelled and declared independence, that much was clear. What was not clear, however, was who was in charge now.
A loose alliance of Cult of the Emperor fanatics (wanting to join the Empire), Tremonties (wanting to resurrect the Christian Federation), and former Ministry of Public Safety patriots (wanting an independent, secular San Angeles) had been unified by the common goal of ousting the Federation. Once it was gone, though, the uneasy union began to unravel. For now, open conflict between the factions had been avoided by forming a coalition "provisional council" to organize a plebiscite to determine future plans… but whoever won the election, Heth doubted the losers would peacefully abide by the vote.
The Avarice had maintained radio silence to avoid detection while in Imperial space, and although it was probably safe now for routine communications with San Angeles Port Authority and the orbital transfer stations, Heth hesitated to contact either Chairman Smythe or Miao Mercantile to report their contract successfully fulfilled—not while there was a chance the message could be intercepted by the Cult. And, considering his cargo, Heth wanted to get as far away from Imperial sympathizers as quickly as he could—especially if there was any possibility they might seize power. For once, his K'Nes crew didn't object to skipping the customary trade stop.
Unfortunately, the Avarice got caught up in territorial infighting within the government bureaucracy. Each faction wanted the income from the cargo tariffs and hypergate tolls (they were no longer bound by the Ministry's free trade agreement with the K'Nes Llan, which had been honored by the Federation)—and the Avarice carried a lot of cargo, worth a lot of money. The delays dragged on and on. Heth had trouble finding the right palm to grease—Cultists were notoriously immune to bribes, and Tremonties downright hostile to them—but eventually he found an old Ministry official grandfathered into the new government, who was simply trying to survive the turmoil alive and welcomed the extra gold Heth offered for a green light to leave San Angeles for the Phoenix system… and, finally, safety. All that was left to do was drop off the cargo and collect their payment.
Heth waited until the Avarice was over halfway to Phoenix before he risked contacting Chairman Smythe on a secure channel, informing him the contract was fulfilled and his "cargo" was ready for delivery. Time was money, after all, and the sooner this job was completed, the sooner news of the Nhur-Andersvald hypergate's construction could be made public—and that meant Heth's shares in the Nhur Llan would have more time to accumulate value. Heth suspected he'd need every credit to pay off the auction on Miu's reproductive rights.
But the call did not go as expected.
"What… do you mean... you're not building… the hypergate?" Heth growled, his claws scratching into the console surface as he glared at the holoprojection of Joseph Smythe in full admiral's uniform aboard his flagship, the Poseidon.
"You misunderstand me, Heth old boy," Smythe said. "We will indeed build the hypergate, just… not now."
"We had a CONTRACT!!" Heth roared. He'd been able to hold it together, after the battle on Cronos, after M'Rowr's death, but this… this sent him over the edge. "Construction was to begin IMMEDIATELY! You agreed to that!"
"May I remind you," Smythe said, clearly struggling for patience himself, "that the contract was signed before the Jurvain invaded the Federation, before the Red Spring robbed us of four systems, and before another wave of Bugs started swarming in. The situation has changed. Instead of a war on one front, the Federation is fighting a war on three fronts! We simply can not spare the resources to begin construction on a hypergate at this time."
"Not my problem!" Heth spat. "Sky Father above, K'Nes died rescuing your mother and her blackmail files! Four of my hunters! Five wounded! All from my clan! M'Rowr…" Heth paused, struggling to keep his voice steady and his eyes dry. "My cousin M'Rowr died. He had a family. Two of them!" Suddenly, Heth's pain and rage exploded. "And he died for a hypergate—not an empty contract with a treacherous APE!!" He took a deep breath, trying to recover his compsure, while Smythe poured himself a scotch and watched Heth coldly. "Now, we had a contract," Heth continued, "a K'Nes contract—and it doesn't matter when it was signed, or how the situation has changed. A deal is a deal. I want that hypergate built, and I want it built now!"
"Yes, well… unfortunately, we are not in K'Nes space, are we?" Smythe replied, swirling the scotch in his glass. "We're in Federation space, and the Five Acts supersedes any and all previous legal contracts regarding the allocation of resources for the war effort—including hypergates. I'm afraid your contract is… well, simply unenforceable." Heth understood the subtext perfectly: Oh yeah? And whadaya gonna DO about it, huh?
And the worst part was… Smythe was right. Heth slowly realized that as he ran through his options in his mind. Yes, he could threaten to throw Smythe's mother out an airlock—but from what Heth had seen of their relationship, the Chairman might almost consider that a bonus. Heth could threaten to throw all the refugees out an airlock… but Smythe was an Admiral as well as a Chairman, and no stranger to sacrificing lives. Heth could keep Edwina's secret blackmail files for himself, or threaten to sell them to the Empire… only Smythe had made it clear that if he couldn't obtain the files himself, he'd be content to destroy them—and there were a lot of Earth Fleet warships between the Avarice and K'Nes space. The super-freighter wouldn't make it far. Besides, right now, the Empire was as likely to shoot Heth as trade with him. No, Heth had no way to force the issue, no leverage.
But he'd been in this position many times before—having to negotiate with obstinate bureaucrats exploiting legal loopholes, while having no bargaining advantage himself—and the solution was always the same: Offer a bribe.
But what could Heth possibly offer a man this powerful? What was valuable enough to tempt him? Impossibarium? NO! Heth thought instantly. That must NEVER fall into human hands, or they'll just reconquer the K'Nes—it'll be the Occupation all over again!
But what else did Heth have? For that matter, what could the ruler of half of human space possibly want?
The answer struck Heth like a thunderbolt: The other half.
"Tell me, Joe," Heth said slowly, enjoying the flash of irritation in Smythe's eyes. "How would you like a weapon that makes Horadrim—like Emperor Vin Dane, for example—much, much easier to kill?"
Smythe paused in mid-sip, then leaned forward slightly, interested. He narrowed his eyes. "What sort of weapon?"
"A bioweapon… sort of," Heth replied. "Once injected, it shuts down a Horadrim's Soul Web. No more masquerading as human, or turning their skin into armor, or their hands into blades. They'll revert back to their natural form—whatever that is—and a knife could kill them. I have such a weapon." He paused for dramatic effect. "Interested?"
"I see…" Smythe said. He leaned back and took a nip of scotch, thinking. "And… how much would this weapon cost me?"
"The Nhur-Andersvald hypergate."
Smythe's face twitched in annoyance. "I've already explained that right now, we simply can't afford to build—"
"Then don't build it!" Heth spat. "Just replace it!"
Smythe scowled, confused. "What the devil are you talking about?"
"During the Caal Invasion, Vin Dane destroyed all the Avalon hypergates—but only on the Avalon side!" Heth held up his claws. "There are currently eight useless hypergates floating in human space. Simply move one of them to Andersvald. That should consume minimal resources. The Miao will build the hypergate on the other end in Nhur."
"Yes…" Smythe nodded. "Unfortunately, all those 'spare' hypergates are within Imperial star systems."
"All but one!" Heth hissed. "In Phoenix! Just a few jumps away from Andersvald!"
Smythe paused, then nodded. "Phoenix. Yes. The former capital of the Ministry of Public Safety—half the population of which distrusts and hates me, and the other half is in open revolt against me. I imagine moving a Phoenix hypergate away—even a useless one—would be a rather politically unpopular move at the moment."
"As I said," Heth growled, his fur bristling in anger, "not my problem. Besides, none of that will matter if the Federation loses this war, we both know that. I'm offering you way to defeat the Holy Terran Empire—by cutting off its head! This is a one-time offer, Smythe. Take it or leave it, now—before I change my mind."
Smythe bought himself a few more seconds to think by taking a sip of scotch. "If I agree… how soon could I receive this weapon? Where is it?"
That last question was a tad too casual, meant to sound like an afterthought, but Heth caught the significance right away and narrowed his yellow eyes to slits. Oh yes, you'd like me to admit I have it with me, wouldn't you? Heth thought. Then you'd send one of your little warships to board my super-freighter and take it by force. Well, I wasn't suckled yesterday, you louse! Aloud, Heth said, "In the K'Nes Llan—but I can have it shipped right away. A week, ten days at most." Heth leaned in closer, barring his fangs. "But you won't receive it until I get confirmation that the Phoenix hypergate has arrived in Andersvald—and not a second sooner!"
" Hmm…" Smythe rubbed his chin, thinking. "And you will send me my mother's secret files, then? And drop off the rest of your passengers at Phoenix?"
Heth had almost forgotten about them. He nodded. "Of course. A deal is a deal."
Smythe sighed. "You drive a hard bargain, M. Heth—but you're right, I need this weapon." He tossed back the last of his scotch. "All right, then… agreed."
"Very well. Let's just skip the pleasantries of signing a contract then, shall we?" Heth growled. "Apparently, they don't mean anything to you!" The cat slammed his paw down on the console, ending the call.
For a moment, Heth just sat on his perch, drumming his claws on the console and fuming. Then he sighed, shook his head, and went back to work—it would help get his mind off things and clam down, at least. He began setting up the exchange with Smythe, sending instructions for Miao merchants in Andersvald to let him know when and if Earth Fleet delivered the hypergate, then made arrangements for the speedy delivery of the bioweapon to the Federation when the time came.
There was only one slight problem: Heth knew that the weaponized Horadrim nanobots included an organic component, one that contained Zechariah McNeilly's DNA… and that worried the little black cat. Would the nanos even work on Emperor Vin Dane's Soul Web? Perhaps only partially? Not at all? In the end, it was a moot point; even if Heth could get a sample of the Emperor's DNA, Miu would have no time to create a new batch of nanos. No, he'd just have to give Chairman Smythe what he did have and hope for the best.
And if the bioweapon didn't work? Well, we didn't sign a contract on that deal, did we? Heth smiled to himself. You should never have defaulted on a K'Nes contract, Smythe, he thought. We know how to handle contract-breakers.
Once Heth felt he'd calmed down enough, he turned his attention to the next task on his to-do list: he needed to contact Yawr, Miao Mercantile's CEO, to let him know the Smythe contract was successfully completed (although the compensation had changed slightly) so that Yawr could finally go public about rebuilding the hypergate for the Nhur-Andersvald commercial shipping lane. Yawr would most certainly not like that the Miao would now be getting a second-hand used hypergate instead of a brand new one… but on the other paw, an operational hypergate would be in the Andersvald system in a matter of days, rather than taking months to build. Investors would definitely like that.
As soon as he could establish a secure connection, Heth opened a comlink to the Miao corporate headquarters on Nhur. Strangely, it took a while for Heth's call to be answered—and even then, he didn't get Yawr on the holoproj, just his executive assistant.
"Miao Merca—Heth? Stars above, where have you been? We've been trying to contact you!"
"Cronos," Heth answered, weary. "Look I need to speak with Yawr. It's important. Trust me, he'll want to hear the good news right away—although there's been a slight change of plans. Is Yawr in a meeting or something?"
"You don't know?" The executive assistant gave Heth a strange look. "Heth, Yawr is… well, he's gone."
"Yes, I can see that," Heth growled, growing impatient. "So go find him! Tell him the contract with Chairman Smythe was successfully fulfilled. The Federation is moving the hypergate into position as we speak."
"Hypergate?" The secretary cocked his head, confused. "What hypergate?"
"Yawr didn't tell you?... Oh. I see." Heth nodded in sudden understanding. "He probably kept it secret until he was certain the deal would go through. Fair enough. Going public with the news too early and having to retract the press release later would play havoc with the Nhur Llan's stock prices. Wise move. Well, when will Yawr be back?"
"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Heth," the secretary protested. "We don't know. Yawr's gone—I don't mean busy, I mean missing! He went to Purrfang for the K'Nes Llan negotiations in Capital Hall over a week ago… and never returned! No one's seen or heard from him in days—and not for lack of trying! It's like he just… vanished!"
Heth's fur bristled as shock and fear swept him. He knew who was behind this. "Varrless!" he hissed.
"Varrless K'Pirr? Head of the K'Nes Llan?" the secretary asked, confused. "What's he got to do with this?"
"He warned us he wouldn't tolerate Miao interference in Llan politics anymore," Heth said, shaking his head. "And McNeilly said we'd pay the price for ignoring the warning… but I never dreamed they'd go this far!"
"Look, Heth..." the secretary said hesitantly. "There's absolutely no evidence Varrless was involved in—"
"Of course there isn't! He's not that sloppy!" Heth spat, growling. "I'll bet Varrless sent Zechariah McNeilly to do the dirty work for him—to make sure Yawr's fate couldn't be traced back to Varrless Financial!"
The executive assistant blinked at Heth, utterly bewildered. "Zechariah McNeilly? Who's that?"
"Varrless's Horadrim lapdog! And this is more his style—blunt, heavy-handed, bloodthirsty…" Heth's voice trailed off. Or was it? he wondered. They hadn't found Yawr's body yet… but it'd be a lot simpler if they had. Yawr held multiple offices. He wasn't just the CEO of Miao Mercantile, but also First Patriarch of the Miao clan and LEO of the Nhur Llan, their system's planetary government. If Yawr had simply died… well, his assets would be inherited, making his eldest cub the new LEO of Nhur… the First Patriarch title would pass to the next-oldest Miao male… Miao Mercantile would appoint a new CEO… and business would continue as usual, with only a slight and brief disruption. But with Yawr being missing instead… well, that legal limbo effectively paralyzed their clan, their company, and their planetary government. It was an excellent opening move, albeit a brash one.
"Alright," Heth sighed, "if Yawr's gone, I'll need to speak with whoever's in charge of the company now."
"Well… that's the problem," the secretary said. "We don't know yet. Yawr didn’t leave a clear succession plan. The Nhur Llan Executive Board will appoint a temporary acting CEO as soon as all the Directors can meet. That's why I'm so glad you finally contacted us, Heth—we didn’t know where you were or how to reach you!"
Heth sniffed the air, slightly confused, and twitched his whiskers. "Reach me about what, exactly?"
"Why, the time and place of the Executive Board meeting, of course!"
Heth rolled his eyes. "Do I really have to attend? I'm rather busy right now, you know. I've got Articles of Procreation to sign on Urrin, and then… well, it is the mating season! Besides, I'm sure the Executive Directors can choose a new CEO without me—it's not like I'm on the Executive Board, after all!"
"But… you are on the Board!" the secretary exclaimed, puzzled. "We need you here to make quorum!"
"No, you must be mistaken." Heth shook his head. "I think I'd remember if I was an Executive Director!"
"But you are!" The secretary consulted a datapad. "Yes, you own eleven percent of all Nhur Llan shares, right? That makes you the fifth largest shareholder, and thus the fifth and final member of the Executive Board."
Heth stared at the secretary blankly, wondering what in the stars he was talking about—and then it all clicked into place in Heth's memory. Right before leaving for Cronos, he had sunk all his assets into Nhur Llan shares so he could sell them for a massive profit when the hypergate project went public and the shares skyrocketed in value. He'd been so preoccupied planning the Cronos operation that he'd never stopped to check what percentage of Llan shares he owned now—let alone whether or not it qualified him for the Executive Board! Besides, he hadn't been trying to make a bid for power in the Nhur government—just a temporary reallocation of liquid assets designed to win Miu's auction for her reproductive rights. What have I gotten myself into?
"Yes… you're right." Heth sighed, suddenly feeling very, very tired. "I don't suppose I can abstain with my vote?"
"Uh… not really, no," the secretary answered. "You're not just the fifth vote, you're the tie-breaking vote."
"Let me guess—the different prides of the Miao clan are fighting for control of the company, right?"
"Exactly." The executive assistant nodded. "If Yawr's assets are inherited, then his eldest daughter Frrou from the K'Nhur pride will become LEO of the Nhur Llan—but Yawr's cousin M'Grrah from the K'Ssaah pride is next in line for First Patriarch. Both sides want the CEO position of Miao Mercantile—which, as you know, includes being Chair of the Board of Directors in the K'Nes Llan—to go to their pride. Or, more specifically, they don't want the other pride to get it. Of the other two Executive Directors, one is Miao K'Hess K'Aou, who's allied through a reproductive partnership with—"
"I get the picture," Heth cut him off, shaking his head in dismay. The Miao prides were playing right into Varrless's paws. Well… at least now Heth was in a position to do something about his corporation's predicament. "Alright, alright… I'll head straight to Nhur. I can be there in…" He paused to access the navigational computer and calculate the travel time. "…eighteen days. Longer, if I get delayed at customs. Gainful day. Discom." Heth closed the connection before the secretary could bombard him with more information. Heth needed some time to process all this, to research the political landscape of the Miao clan… and to let Miu know that their merger would be delayed—again! He hoped she'd understand. Business came before pleasure, after all. Well… technically this was government, not business, but for K'Nes it was one and the same.
Strangely, it took him a long time to reach Miu. He placed several calls, but all he ever got was her executive assistant Aie. He sent messages, but Miu never got back to him. Heth figured Miu must be terribly busy—it simply wasn't like her to leave a business associate hanging. It did briefly cross his mind that Miu might be avoiding him… but if so, he couldn't fathom why. Finally, slightly desperate and acting on a hunch, Heth masked his call by routing it through Durmach Media—an old smuggler's trick for hiding communication with unsavory characters from the authorities. He hoped it would fool MIRADI as well.
It did. This time, the call was answered right away, and Miu's image popped up on holoprojector. "Miu Institute of—oh! Heth!" She seemed startled to see him, then at a loss for words. "Uh… gainful day."
"Gainful day, Miu!" Heth smiled. "I apologize for the deception, but it appeared that Aie wasn't passing on my messages. I suppose we did too good a job of hiding our business relationship, didn't we?"
"Uh… yes, I guess so. Well… I'm glad to see you're alive and well, Heth." She sounded unusually formal.
"Yes… thanks to you, Miu. I found the Impossibarium railgun rounds you left in my power armor, you know. They saved my life. It was an excellent investment—I returned! And we'll yield many dividends together."
Miu smiled at him, but shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, well… just consider it a kickback to an excellent business associate of MIRADI." She smiled—weakly. "Look… Heth… I'm afraid I have some bad news for you…"
"Me too, Miu. I'm terribly sorry, but we're going to have to delay our merger for a few more days. I've got to swing by Nhur first—there's been some turnover in upper management, and we need to appoint a temporary head of Miao Mercantile. It shouldn't take more than a day or two, then I'll head straight to Urrin for our—"
"Heth!" Miu cut him off. Once she had his attention, she looked down, her eyes slipping away. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't want to tell you this way, but..." She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "You were outbid."
Heth stared at her, perfectly still and silent as the wave of shock and horror rolled over him. He'd been so sure he would win her auction, he hadn't bothered checking to make sure. Not again… he thought, Sky Father above, I can’t lose her again… "But… but that's impossible!" he sputtered. "I know I couldn't attend the auction in person—the Smythe contract was time-sensitive—but I set up automatic bidding with a one million credit limit! That was twice the highest bid when I left!"
"I know." Miu didn't sound happy either. "Look, we can always try again during the next mating cycle."
"But… but that's eleven years from now!" Heth looked down, at a loss. He felt numb. This can't be happening. He looked back up, but Miu wouldn’t meet his eyes. "I... I don’t understand, Miu. What happened? I… I thought you… don't you value me anymore?"
"Yes, of course I do!" she said, growing uncomfortable. "But… look, it's just business. It’s not personal."
"Not personal?!?" Heth echoed, aghast. "How could this possibly not be personal?"
"I'm sorry, Heth," she said, "but MIRADI needs this influx of capital to stay solvent, you know that!"
"Capital? How much?" Heth asked, seeing a glimmer of hope. "Maybe I can top the winning bid?"
"It was five million," Miu answered, sounding hopeful herself. "Can you top that?"
"Five million?" Heth repeated, shocked by a staggering price he could never hope to beat. "All that… for you?"
Miu's back stiffened and her face darkened. "And just what the scat is that supposed to mean?"
Oh scat, Heth thought. "N-Nothing!" Heth stammered, backpedaling. "I just meant… well, I know last-minute bidding always drives prices up, but… well, you must admit eight times the previous high bid is unusual!" He changed the subject before she could respond. "Who placed the winning bid? Who values you that highly?"
"I'd… rather keep that information confidential, Heth." Miu's frosty demeanor was returning.
"Please, Miu!" Heth pleaded. "After all I've done for you… all the deals I've negotiated to keep MIRADI afloat, all the enemies I've made, all the risks I've taken—scat, I nearly died on Cronos!—and all just to earn enough to be worthy of you, Miu!" She winced and looked away, and Heth could tell he was getting through to her. "The least you can do is tell me who could possibly value you more than I do!"
"Alright, alright!" Miu held up a paw to silence him. "I suppose I owe you that much…" Miu took a deep breath and looked Heth in the eye. "Varrless K'Pirr."
Miu watched Heth's face carefully as he silently absorbed the news. For a moment, he was perfectly still and silent. Then he leapt off his perch with a yowl, hooked his claws into the padded perch, and hurled it across the room with a roar. "Varrless!" he hissed, stalking back and forth. "That rat! I should have known he'd do something like this!"
"See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you until after I'd signed the Articles of Procreation, Heth!" Miu snapped, frustrated. "I knew you wouldn't take the news well—and frankly, you're acting like a spoiled kitten."
Heth spun around, looking at Miu on the holoprojector. "You haven’t signed the deal yet?" he asked hopefully.
"Of course not!" Miu snapped. "You know how long it takes to draw up a reproductive contract, Heth! It's taken our lawyers weeks to negotiate the exact wording." She shook her head, tail swishing in exasperation. "But I'm leaving for Purrfang tomorrow to sign the Articles of Procreation in Capital Hall—it's an excellent location for the press conference afterword, and…" Her voice trailed off as she saw the desperate look in Heth's eyes. "You're… not going to do anything rash and stupid, are you?"
"But Varrless doesn't value you, Miu!" Heth insisted. "He just wants your company for… something!"
"Oh, so you're saying I'm not valuable enough for the richest K'Nes in the Llan, is that it?" Miu retorted.
"That's not what I meant, Miu, and you know it!" Heth shot back, frustrated at how she twisted his words.
"Look, there's no point in discussing this any further," Miu said, impatient. "And I have to go now, I'm busy."
"No! Miu, wait!"
"Goodbye, Heth. Don't try to contact me again—I won't respond anyway. Discom." She winked off of the holoprojector.
Heth stared at the empty holo silently, simmering with rage, grief, and the terrible pain of rejection. He had done too much, come too far, to give up on Miu now. Varrless had crossed the line this time. He was up to something, and if Heth could figure out what it was, then maybe—just maybe—he could stop Miu's merger.
"M'Rowr!" Heth said, spinning around, "I need you to…" Heth's voice trailed off.
The room was empty.
M'Rowr was gone. Yawr was gone. And now Miu was gone too.
Heth had never felt so alone in his life.
TO BE CONTINUED
