Chapter 8.2: Crossing Kikka

It was just a couple of hours after sundown, but the day had been long at the asura gate to Ebonhawke: full of meddling micromanagers telling him how trans-mat stabilizers should be maintained, obnoxious humans with chips on their shoulders and far too much spare wealth, a child whose unruly dog ran through the gate when his back was turned, and of course another strangely gentle message from Kikka regarding his wayward partner. Wepp was just glad the day was over.

Arriving at his door after working late on diagnostics, he turned his key in the lock and was greeted by the familiar sound of clicking pins and the unoiled whine of the door’s pivoting hinges. Yes, these human technologies were rudimentary, and hardly sufficient for protecting anything of real value, but still, they always calmed him, welcoming him home every day without fail. He slipped in, closed and locked the door, and walked ten feet just to fall into his favorite chair. It was really more of a bowl than a chair: a padded bowl, mounted atop a stone base. It was a fine asuran design that made him feel like he was back at home, despite the fact that he still lived in a one room tenement built into the outer wall of the human capital.

Cradled in the cozy dish, Wepp had only just begun to nod off when a pounding at the door jarred him awake. He jumped, flopping wildly out of the seat and onto the floor.

He looked up at the door, and the pounding came again. “Hold your anti-gravs,” he said, raising himself from the floor and rubbing his jaw.

Reaching the door, he raised his voice and took a more pleasant tone. “Who is it?” he asked, sliding a flap aside and peering through the small magnifier in the door. A familiar, though disproportioned face glared back at him through the fish-eyed lens. “Skixx?”

“Yes, it’s me. Open the door,” he heard back.

He pulled back the several latches that held that heavy door and slowly pulled it open. The cold night air fingered around the edge of the door at Wepp’s bare feet as Skixx entered. As usual he was little more than a swath of shadow slipping in out of the night. Wepp closed the door behind him, re-locking the top few latches before turning to face his partner.

“Skixx, what are you—“ He yawned, unconsciously rubbing his eyes. “What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to go to—”

Skixx cut him off, having already turned to face him again. “Yes, I was supposed to travel directly to Thaumacore, but I haven’t gone because I haven’t attained the objective. Not yet.”

A puzzled look washed across Wepp’s sleepy face. “Very well, but what are you doing here?”

Skixx removed his overcoat and threw it on the floor as he hopped into Wepp’s dish chair, brushing out his dense hair with his hands. “We’re changing the plan.”

Not yet moving from the door, Wepp glared at Skixx questioningly. “What do you mean changing the plan— and what do you mean we?”

“What do you think I mean? I mean, we—you and I—are going to run this mission differently than Kikka instructed. We’re changing the plan.”

That woke him up. Wepp’s normally narrow eyes went as wide as they could, and he began to quiver as he slowly crossed the room toward his cohort. “Differently than Kikka instructed? Are you insane?” he demanded. “If the rumors are the least bit true, this is the krewe chief who uses unruly underlings as test subjects. Don’t you remember Plixa?”

Previously the mere mention of Plixa had made Skixx shudder, with good reason. The thought of being sucked into a chaos vortex and transmaterialized into eight different places was enough to turn the strongest stomach. Tonight, though, it had far less effect than Wepp intended.

“Of course I remember Plixa,” Skixx replied, unmoved. “Everyone remembers Plixa. But Plixa was a fool. She thought the law of invention and patenting held sway over Kikka. I’m not even concerned with inventive property.”

“Skixx,” Wepp began in a low tone, wringing his hands anxiously, “you seem to imply that inventive-property disputes are the only thing these accidents have arisen from. Though she hasn’t said it, I fear she’s already growing displeased with us. She—”

“I’ve been thinking about this mission,” Skixx interrupted.

“She contacted me just today, looking for you,” Wepp continued, picking Skixx’s coat up off the floor. “She’s sending transmissions with increasing frequency, almost every day now. But that’s not the weirdest part. She smiles— trying to be congenial, I suppose. It’s unnerving.”

Skixx frowned and leaned forward in the dish-chair. “Listen to me. This isn’t—”

Wepp went right on. “Alchemy, let’s just return her crystals to her and rid ourselves of this whole distressing situation.”

“Wepp!” Skixx growled, jumping from the seat and stamping his foot.

Wepp drew back, his words trailing off into the air. Somehow, Skixx’s commanding tone always worked, despite the fact that Wepp was larger, more senior in the organization, and factually more intelligent—though neither would admit that.

Skixx sat back down on the edge of the bowl. “Are you with me now?” he asked. Wepp nodded submissively, and Skixx went on, “Think about this assignment for a moment. You say she’s trying to be congenial? Of all the things Kikka’s been called, congenial has never been on the list—in fact, that’s a silly word; don’t use it again. Something about this whole mission is suspicious, annoyingly so. And it grows more suspicious every day.”

That made Wepp curious. “What are you talking about?” he asked, putting his hands in the pockets of his coveralls.

“I assume you remember the message Kikka first sent about this job.”

“Yes,” Wepp replied, “of course. She said a Vigil crusader had stolen power crystals from one of their sites. He was on the move, and she offered a reward for any cell who could recover them for her. So?”

“Well, that’s not how the sylvari tells it,” Skixx said with a raised brow. His eyes were alight with either curiosity or mischief.

“You spoke to him?” Wepp asked, his eyes wide again.

The other put his face in his hands. “No, of course I didn’t speak to him. Alchemy. I’m a spy; I spy on people.”

“Yes. Right.”

Shaking his head, Skixx went on. “I overheard them talking. The sylvari said something about the stones being the remnant of a creature that had killed some Vigil lemmings. That’s a far cry from being stolen power crystals.”

Wepp looked dubious. “So the sylvari lied. I don’t grasp your point.”

“This sylvari doesn’t lie,” Skixx explained. , crossing his arms. “I don’t think he could if he wanted to. The others with him seem to get any information they want out of the moron. Besides, there’s no reason he would lie; he has nothing to gain from it. Kikka, on the other hand, lies like an arcane councilor up for reelection.”

Wepp remained standing, secretly hoping this conversation would end and he could get back to sleep without having to worry that Skixx would get them both killed. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at. Presuming you’re correct, why would it matter that Kikka lied?”

A shifty grin lifted one side of Skixx’s face. “It’s not that she lied that matters, Wepp. It’s why she’s lying. It’s who she’s lying to. With roughly 87.6% certainty, I’d say she’s keeping something from command.”

Wepp’s hands went to his hips and he cast a serious gaze from under his thick and furrowed brow. “You calculated an 87.6% chance off of one point of data? That’s abysmal science, Skixx.”

Skixx snorted, sneering. “You really think I’d come with only one point of data?”

“You have more?”

“Of course I do, you imbecile.”

Realizing there was no way Skixx would let him sleep without first seeing this conversation through, Wepp sighed and threw his hands up. “Fine,” he conceded, galumphing to the window to grab the other chair and drag it across the small room to face Skixx. Sitting down with a defeated plop, he rested his chin in his hands. “Tell me.”

Skixx went on to describe the events from the journey so far: the group’s traveling practices and conversations, his abduction by the bandits, and the knowledge he’d acquired that night. They reviewed the original message from Kikka again and puzzled out all the questions that had flurried through Skixx’s mind. Wepp even added some of his own. Finally, Skixx expressed the only logical conclusions he could draw from it all: Kikka had lost something she wasn’t willing to speak word of, she wanted it back, and she didn’t want to draw the attention of Inquest command.

“Well—” Wepp considered, fidgeting with the buttons on his coveralls as he reviewed the notes he’d taken. “It does seem to line up with your operating hypothesis, but what do we do with that? How is it better for us to use this than to just give her what she wants and be done with this ridiculous quandary?”

Skixx leaned forward with such purpose, it drew Wepp’s complete attention. “Do you want to stay at this pathetic, human-ridden outpost for the rest of your meaningless days?”

“Well, no,” Wepp replied, abashed.

“Surveillance and theft aren’t enough to raise us to any reasonable position in the Inquest. You know that. We need to be conducting research, experimenting, and developing new tools and technologies, and we’re not going to do that here.” He paused, clearly for dramatic effect. “But, if we could somehow persuade someone with pull at higher levels to assist us with our upward mobility—” He let his words trail off so Wepp would fill in the rest.

“So, what? We learn what she’s doing, attain what she wants, and blackmail her into relocating us to a quality lab?” Wepp asked. Concern drew deep lines in his forehead. “That seems like the kind of plan that would end in our accidental and untimely demise, at a quality lab.”

The other asura shook his head and waved his hands. “No, no, no,” he corrected. “You’re thinking too small. We let these Vigil imbeciles inform us of what the crystals really are. Then we take them back to Kikka, complete with information about them and about her scheme, to prove that we’re on her side and vital to her work. We’re not enemies; we’re friends.” Skixx’ devious grin broke into a toothy smile that even disturbed Wepp. “It just happens to be quite beneficial for both her and us.”

“So not blackmail, but bribery?”

Skixx nodded sourly. “Fine. If you want to reduce it to such a base definition, yes, bribery.”

“How do we discover what the crystals are?” Wepp asked.

“Leave that to me. It might take some time, so you’ll have to stall Kikka—”

Wepp’s head sucked backward. “Skixx,” he yelped, “Did you hear anything I’ve said about her inquiries? You want me to just trust you? We’re playing with superheated plasma, here!”

“OK, OK,” Skixx sighed, putting his hands up. It was rare that Wepp could force information from him, but this time it seemed to work. “The sylvari says he’s going to Vigil Keep to learn what the crystals are. I’m going to be there when he finds out. I’ve followed these fools long enough to know with certainty how to do it. You just need to stall Kikka. From what you’ve told me about her oddly patient demeanor lately, I think she’ll work with us as long as we’re her only shot at getting what she wants.”

That was sensible, but Wepp was still rather pensive, tapping his right fingers on the back of the opposite hand.

“Do you still have a connection in central records?” Skixx asked.

“You could say that,” Wepp admitted half-heartedly. “Rizi is still there, if that’s what you mean.”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Skixx grinned. “Get in touch with Rizi and learn all you can about Kikka.”

“But—”

“Wepp, don’t start with me,” Skixx scolded. “She irritates everyone, but she has some unfortunate and inexplicable interest in you, and you’re going to use that. I don’t care how you convince her to aid us, but do it. We have to find what Kikka is hiding and why.”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Wepp bemoaned, suddenly overwhelmed by the risk of it all. “Of all the people to cross—”

Skixx interrupted again. “Don’t worry so much. Kikka’s mildly more intelligent than average, I give her that. But you and I? We’re sitting at Oola-level genius.”

Wepp was unsure, but Skixx went on, rolling his eyes, “Now, painful as it is, I need to get back to my marks. The salad stinks like old leftovers, and I’m positive the human females never spent a day in a school.” He sighed and stood up, moving toward his coat. “Still,” he said with a disgusted grimace, “they’re about to become my best friends.”