Jak Koke - Stranger souls

The flight to Seattle passed quickly. Ryan thought about Father-Roxborough's father actually. He remembered the large man, his red beard and balding pate. Father had been a moderately successful entrepreneur, and young Thomas Roxborough rarely saw him while his mother was alive. It was only after she'd died in a terrorist bombing in London that Father had taken an interest in shaping his son's life.

Ryan remembered one time when Father had promised to take him to an Arsenal football match at Highbury Stadium. Little Tommy Roxborough had been looking forward to seeing his favorite team play. A real live match! He'd been waiting for weeks in anticipation. Father said all he had to do was complete his programming homework, which he did brilliantly.

But something had come up at Father's work, an important meeting with the execs of another corp, Ryan couldn't remember which, and the promised match passed without Roxborough. Father had told him later that his meeting had made them over a million nuyen. Business, Father had said, was always more important.

It wasn't until years later that Roxborough truly understood what he had meant. Roxborough had been in the final stages of foreclosing on Tennessee Nitro Technologies-a company that owed him a sizable chunk of nuyen-when he learned that Father was in the hospital, dying of VITAS- Virally Induced Toxic Allergy Syndrome. Roxborough couldn't pass up his opportunity to destroy the company and put millions into his account. Timing was crucial.

He decided to postpone his visit to Father in the hospital.

Father died before he made his visit. But Roxborough was sure Father understood, even in those final moments, that his son had his priorities straight. Roxborough knew Father would be proud. He threw a fantastic funeral for Father. All the important people came.

Now, the suborbital shuttle was landing in Seattle. Ryan stretched and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the eerie feeling that draped over his body like a blanket of shivers.

The postures of Axler, Grind, McFaren, and Dhin relaxed

somewhat after they stepped off the suborbital and onto the concrete of SeaTac airport. This was close to their home turf. They obviously felt much more safe and secure here, though as Ryan looked around, he got the sense that Seattle could be extremely dangerous.

A small jet took them to the compound, which Axler called Assets, Incorporated. It was a small airstrip in Salish Shidhe, the Indian nation that covered land previously known as Washington, Idaho, and British Colombia. Assets, Inc. lay hidden in the mountains above Hells Canyon, and Ryan gathered that it served as Axler and Company's base of operations.

The compound was bounded on one side by a sheer rock face that stretched up into the sky, and on the other by a precipice-a steep cliff face that fell into the canyon, over a kilometer to the bottom where the Snake River wound its way, a narrow, green ribbon in the distance below. The perimeter of Assets, Inc. was fenced, and there was a corrugated steel warehouse of some sort, but Ryan didn't get time to inspect either. He was ushered straight into another jet, larger and more luxurious this time, complete with its own pilot and security guards.

Axler had grown even colder toward him as their mission had come to an end. Jane had paid them through a deposit in their Zurich Orbital account, and Axler was all business. Grind and McFaren shook Ryan's hand just before he stepped aboard, but Axler simply said, "Good luck," in her ultra-chill way, as if from a great emotional distance. Then she'd turned her back on him.

Biz completed. No attachments desired.

The security guards took position in the rear of the jet and Ryan was left alone in the plush cabin. Luxury and loneliness enveloping him.

Still there was some hope as the jet flew him out. They were taking him to meet Nadja, the woman who might have some answers about his past. A woman who he knew, but didn't remember. What was his relationship with her? He'd find out soon enough.

They flew north, and Ryan learned that they were going to Dunkelzahn's lair in Lake Louise-a dragon's lair. The rigger pilot knew him. Her name was Barb-a sleek-looking

elf with brown locks that hung to her nicely shaped behind. She told him that he worked with Black Angel and Dunkelzahn, that he was "jacked in" with the higher-ups.

So I work for a fragging dragon, he thought. It's all becoming perfectly clear… Not!

Ryan finally decided just to see what happened. It would all come back when he was least expecting it. He sat back in his seat and tried to relax by looking out the window at the passing landscape. The peaks of the Canadian Rocky Mountains stood majestic and raw, speaking to Ryan in a primal language as he gazed out the window. The ancient stone at once forbidding and enticing.

The plane landed on a short airstrip built on a high plain between two peaks. The sun reflected a blinding white off the snow-covered glaciers; the silver-blue glass buildings lower on the slope of the mountains sparkled like cut gems. It was awe-inspiring. Stark and beautiful.

She stood on the cold runway waiting for him to disembark. She was surrounded by guards, her black hair blowing wildly in the chill wind. He wrapped the coat they'd given him tighter around his body and stepped down the short staircase to meet her. Up close, he sensed that she was a very powerful woman. Confidence and poise radiated from her presence. From the sureness of her stance. The way she stood was inviting in a conspiratorial way, yet held a solid immutability. She would listen, but she would make the final decisions.

As Ryan set foot in front of her, that manner all but melted. She stood slightly taller, but her frame was insubstantial compared to his. She looked down at him with wet eyes. Then she smiled. Broad and genuine. He could see the desire in her expression, smell it on her. And he wasn't surprised when he felt a reciprocal desire for her. She was extremely attractive.

"You've changed," she said.

Ryan nodded. "Yes. I can't remember much about who I was."

"I'm so sorry, Ryan." And as she reached to put her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace he realized he'd been longing for, he felt a spark of familiarity. The details of the moment coalesced into a whole, the many tiny

individualities coming together to remind him of a time before.

They had known each other; they had embraced like this before. But it had been a parting embrace, and they had both been coldly resolved to accept it. The smell of her, so close to him now, brought the emotions cascading back, confusing and disconnected from memory.

An image came into his mind of the sun, peeking over the flat, cobalt blue surface of the ocean. The memory. The sky was a watercolor of yellow and pink from the dawn. The air was warm, the tiny cove empty as Ryan stood and stared out across the ocean.

She had come up behind him, putting her arms under his, wrapping them around his chest. Nuzzling him with her nose against the side of his neck. A shiver passed through him, an electric shock from her touch. But already he was clamping down on his emotions. Already he was forming the inner fortress that was necessary for his continued survival, his continued devotion to Dunkelzahn.

/ must be an island, he told himself.

He didn't look at her. "Black Angel called," he said. "I've got a mission." Her hands went slack. "I'm sorry," he sad. "I don't…"

Her voice was flat, almost a monotone whisper. "I thought we had two weeks," she said. "Yes, but-"

Her voice rising as she spoke. "They promised us two fragging weeks!" She let go, and he turned finally.

Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, over the loose cotton robe that was blowing in the morning breeze. Her hair, recently disheveled from sleep, flying about her. The heat of her anger flushing her white skin.