Dominions

III

III

- III -

- III -The envelope bulged in Karon’s jacket. Even though there was nobody in sight, he felt them watching from windows, or through Eyes. And even when he’d made the drop, the sensation only reduced, didn’t go totally.

He rushed into his building, pulled on the railing to climb the stairs. The lift was still out, and Karon doubted the landlord would ever get around to fixing it.

At least the rent was cheap.

He unlocked his door and stepped inside. He slipped his jacket off, hung it on the hook beside the door, then triggered the lighting.

“Hello, Mister Karon.”

There was a man in Karon’s chair. He sat with his legs crossed and his hands clasped in his lap. His trousers were smart, with a crease running down the front, and his shoes shone. He wore an expensive-looking jacket. There was a hat on the table by his side. His chin was free of stubble, and he’d swept his dark hair back. His mouth formed a thin line under a sharp nose. And his eyes were dark and cold.

“Who the hell are you?” Karon wanted to shout, but only managed a whisper. His hand fell to his blade.

“That’s not important.”

The line of the man’s mouth twitched, as if it wanted to break into a smile but had forgotten how to.

“You want to rob me?”

The man breathed out, almost a laugh. He opened his arms, showing Karon the fine suit he wore, then waved one hand around the room. “You think I need anything you have?”

Karon had never been into luxuries. He had his chair, a simple food-prep, a small table and fold-out seat. There was a battered screen on the single bed, tucked into the corner of the room. If this man had opened Karon’s storage, he’d have found simple clothing, nothing fancy. Even his blade was old and battered.

“So how’s your day been?”

The man’s casual tone threw Karon. “Fine,” he managed.

“Same as usual?”

Karon swallowed. He wanted to sit, looked around for another chair. But he didn’t want to bother with the fold-out, and leaning on the table seemed far too casual.

He nodded. “Same as usual.”

The man’s eyes rolled, like he was disappointed. “So who was the walker?” he asked.

Karon’s heart hammered. How did this man know about the walker? And how did he know Karon’s name? Then there was his voice, the way it rose and fell, like a song. It reminded Karon of Tyam, when he’d first passed through the gate. And the whole ‘Mister’ thing‌—‌that was how they talked under the glass. Karon was sure of it.

So what the hell was this man doing here?

“Don’t worry,” the man said. “I’m not after anything you have, as I’ve already mentioned. I simply want a chat. Please, sit down.”

Karon glanced at the table and pull-out, then shook his head. “Prefer to stand.”

“Then do me the courtesy of moving your hand away from your blade. I assure you, attempting violence against me will go badly for you. I don’t say that as a threat, merely a warning.”

Yet it was a threat, wasn’t it? Karon looked at the man’s jacket, how it hung from him, how the material folded over. No telling what it held.

But if he was from the Dome, would he even have weapons? And why would the Dome be interested in Tyam? What had he done?

There were procedures. If anyone asked anything, the old man had told him, Karon was to keep quiet.

“Tell me about the walker.” The man leaned back in the chair, as if he owned it. As if this was his room.

“Don’t have a name,” Karon said.

The man smiled. “A tad disingenuous. You have a name for him, even if it’s false. And it is false. I, on the other hand, know his real name. I know more about him than he knows himself. I knew of his intention to take a short vacation, and I had the utmost confidence that he would return exactly as he had planned.” The stranger waved one hand again. “But, please, take the weight off your feet. Then we can converse in a more civilised manner.”

Karon shook his head. He swallowed. “Prefer it if you leave.”

“I’m sure you would. But we don’t always get what we want, do we?”

The man smiled again, like one of those jackals Karon had heard about, out in the wilds. And that fitted, because he was an animal, wasn’t he? Predator or something. Might be from the Dome, but he was bad news.

And he was here, in Karon’s room, uninvited.

“I want you out. Now!”

When Karon accepted the job, they’d trained him. It had been tough, and over those three weeks he’d often thought of quitting. But he’d stuck with it, believed them when they said the bruises and cuts would heal. And he’d learnt‌—‌how to defend himself, how to use his body, and how to use weapons.

As he lunged, he unsheathed his blade. He focused on the man’s chest, knew where the point would enter. He prepared his arm for the jolt.

Then he crashed to the floor. His wrist erupted into a white surge of heat.

Karon cradled his arm. His hand hung at an impossible angle, and he could feel pain and nothing at the same time. His blade lay on the floor, half-under the chair.

The man leaned forward. He unfolded slowly, and when he stood at his full height he brushed himself down.

“I do deplore a lack of manners in a host. I apologise for your wrist, but I did warn you.”

Karon wanted to yell at the man, but when he opened his mouth the only thing to emerge was a gurgle. He closed his eyes as the room swam.

“Sit up.”

Karon didn’t want to, but he shuffled his body until he hit his bed. It creaked. He pushed with his legs, resting his back against the side of the mattress. When he opened his eyes it took a moment for the dots of colour to fade.

His attacker remained standing by the chair.

“The man who called himself Tyam is special. You know that, because you saw him twice. How often has that happened, Mister Karon? It takes a particular kind of person to achieve such a feat. And, if you search your memories, you’ll realise that this wasn’t Tyam’s first venture.” He pointed, to Karon’s arm. “Maybe the pain will sharpen your memory.”

Despite himself, Karon did think. He saw the woman, the panicked expression, the mixture of fear and excitement. And he saw the man with the long hair so neatly arranged, the one who had passed the night under the glass.

And he saw something, now, in hindsight. Images fell over each other, superimposing themselves. Cut the hair short, and the man could pass for Tyam.

The man nodded. “Your expression betrays your surprise. And you wouldn’t be alone in such a reaction. Some would see our friend’s ventures as a major achievement. Others, however, would not be so generous. You know that the Dome protects itself, because you’re a part of that protection. Many under the glass would be aghast at the very thought of a person from the districts entering their beloved society. Knowledge that this is indeed possible‌—‌and that one particular individual has managed such a feat on two occasions‌—‌has the potential to cause chaos.”

The man leaned forward. “There are those who would do anything to ensure this man doesn’t enter a third time. They’d hunt him down, following any clues they can uncover, and visiting those who have seen him. You understand the implications, I’m sure.”

He lifted his eyebrows, turning the statement into a question.

Karon might not be word-smart like Salika, but he was intelligent where it counted. “They’ll come looking for me.”

“Indeed they will. And that causes a problem for someone like myself, someone who doesn’t want this man to be found.”

Karon swallowed, and blinked. His vision blurred for a moment. His wrist throbbed constantly. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I can keep quiet.”

The man said nothing.

“I won’t say a word. It’s not like I know anything, is it? Only a false name. He’ll have changed clothes, cut his hair different. What could I tell them?” Ideas‌—‌possibilities‌—‌surged through the pain. “I mean, if they came for me direct, threatening me, I’d know the score, keep quiet. And I don’t go out anywhere, so they can’t come on to me anyway, can they?”

Which, now that Karon thought about it, was a big reason for him getting the job. No friends, no family, so he was less likely to talk.

The man sighed. “A few days ago I visited a couple of charming young women. In the course of our conversation, they talked of how their clients would relax after the physical part of the business was over. These women saw it as a part of the service, that they could help their clients lighten their burdens.” He tilted his head. “I believe you know these women. One might even say you know them intimately.”

Cleyne and Hya. Had to be.

But Karon never talked about work. They’d both asked, wondering what he did for money, but he’d been vague. Said he worked in security, that it was boring, that he couldn’t say anything more. He definitely didn’t mention the gate, or the walkers. If they brought up the Dome‌—‌which happened every now and then, because it was hard to avoid the glass when it was so close, wasn’t it?‌—‌he changed the subject.

“They know nothing.”

“Maybe, and maybe not. But ponder this‌—‌I’m here, in your room. I must have gained my information from someone.”

“I won’t talk.”

“Those who want to find your walker can be very persuasive.”

“My job pays well enough.”

“There are other means of persuasion.”

The man lifted his foot and tapped Karon’s arm. Karon winced, swallowing the pain. “I won’t talk.”

The man smiled, and the expression was cold. “I know you won’t, Mister Karon. That’s why I’m here.”

Karon pushed himself higher, pulled his legs in. The temperature dropped as the man took a step forward. Metal flashed in his hand.

A blade. Karon’s? No‌—‌that still sat under the chair. The blade the man held was superior‌—‌looked both used and new, had a moulded handle, and when the metal caught the light it flickered in different colours.

“Please understand that this isn’t personal. There’s nothing at fault with your work, and I’m sure you have no intention of talking. Well,” and he tilted his head, his eyes glinting with a dark light, “almost. Because there was that one time, wasn’t there? You let a few undesirables know about a walker, didn’t you?”

Karon shook his head. “That‌…‌that was a mistake. I’d never do anything like that again. Honest! You can trust me.”

“Maybe. But what if you let something slip after enjoying the company of those young women? And if those seeking our walker meet you‌…‌well, they can be both subtle and persuasive. They can make you open up without realising it. They’re masters at their craft. And I should know‌…‌I trained many of them.”

And Karon played back the whole meeting, saw how this man had persuaded Karon to admit to so much, had twisted the conversation so that Karon talked about Tyam.

He shook his head, but he knew how this would end. He was no match for this man, just as he’d be no match for those hunting Tyam.

Would anyone miss him when he’d gone? Would Cleyne or Hya? No‌—‌he was a client, one of many. They only pretended to enjoy his company because he paid.

The man loomed over Karon, and his arm swiped across. An icy heat opened in Karon’s throat. When the man stepped back, the blade dripped crimson.

“You’ve witnessed something incredible,” the man said. “This is the highlight of your life.”

The chill spread, an ice-burn in its wake. Karon couldn’t move, but he felt the blood run, saw it soak into his top, saw it spray in a ragged pattern that mirrored the throbbing inside.

The moment lasted forever. The man wiped his blade clean with a rag and sheathed it inside his jacket before folding the rag carefully and putting it into a pocket. He smoothed down his clothing, returned to the chair and picked up his hat, placed it on his head. He walked to the door.

The man paused. He turned to Karon and nodded. His face held the hint of a smile.

And Karon understood the truth in his words. Karon had witnessed something incredible. The one who called himself Tyam had crossed the glass twice.

hadBut the man was not alone. He had a powerful friend, in this well-dressed, ruthless man. A man who would do anything to protect the walker.

As his eyes closed, and as the burning faded into a coldness that numbed him, Karon wondered what it would’ve been like to have a friend like that.