1I didn't plan to post any of this until it was finished, but the first two chapters went up on tumblr for people's birthdays, so here we go. Further updates will be... slow
Deck of Marbles
July 15, 2019
Happy birthday ninthfeather!
Lasse followed the thin man through the ballroom's double doors without a word, straightening his shoulders ram-rod to keep anyone from seeing how fast his heart was racing.
The doors shut behind them with a dull clang that echoed throughout the cavernous room. He'd seen it packed with hundreds of people during the Family's Christmas celebrations, mingling at tables spread with fancy finger foods or dancing across the floor to the best band in town performing on the platform against the far wall.
There was a table there, now, where all of the heads of their organization sat silently in the otherwise empty room.
He identified them each in turn as his heartbeat drummed in his chest – his boss. His boss's boss. And Vito Mineo.
Men so busy, they'd rarely so much as spared a glance at someone so low on the food chain. Men so important he'd never even been in a position to speak to them directly outside of the customs dictated by the Family. Men so powerful, they held the country in the palm of their hands, twisting it this way and that as if it were a bauble catching the light.
They stared down at him from their table as he approached, the stained glass window above them casting their sharply dressed figures into strangely discordant shades of red and orange and blue.
The room seemed to stretch on endlessly, no matter how many of his heavy booted steps vanished soundlessly into the long crimson carpet. Their eyes watched his every move. He forced his stride longer and surer as he drew closer.
When they finally reached the foot of the steps, the thin man who had ushered him in was waved aside without so much as a word. He melted back into the shadows of the ballroom, leaving Lasse standing alone, his jaw clamped tightly shut.
"Ah, good, good," Michael Dicico broke the silence, leaning over on elbow to talk to Don Coll and the impressively burly man beside him that Lasse didn't recognize. "This is the young man we were telling you about," he said with a wave.
The man stared at him with sharp blue eyes that matched his crisply pressed suit. Amber liquid lazily swirled around in circles in his glass but he did not respond. He seemed to be waiting for something, and Lasse could only pray it was an introduction as he took the plunge and bowed before the table at large.
"Lasse Aeon," he said, taking courage in the fact that his voice had not wavered. Bowing again to the head of his own Family, "Don Coll." And then to the man who had to be, "Don Mineo."
The man continued staring down at him, impassively, and Lasse fought with every muscle to keep from squirming under his frosty gaze, returning the look as steadily as he could manage, hoping the man saw steel inside him, that he could hold his own, instead of thinking him an impertinent, challenging upstart.
"And… he is not known in the city," he asked, voice a low grumble, his eyes never moving from Lasse's.
"He's clean," Don Coll smiled slowly, upturning a hand in Michael's direction. "And competent."
"Extremely," Michael assured them both. "He's just what you've asked for."
Lasse's chest swelled. He'd worked hard for the Family ever since they had picked him up, doing whatever they asked of him. But he'd never truly done any work important enough to earn such unreserved recommendations.
Don Mineo seemed to sense it, too. He seemed unconvinced as he set down his glass on the table.
"I am told…" he began slowly, methodically folding his large hands together. The chunky silver rings on each finger glinted red in the light of the window as he leaned forward. Lasse swallowed heavily. "I am told by my cousin that you may be the man for this job," he rumbled.
Expectantly, Lasse realized, and he wished he had some inkling of what the job was supposed to be. But looking to Michael wouldn't tell him anything, and he was sure that he would fail some final test if he broke eye contact with the man, despite how highly Don Coll had recommended him. He couldn't let his Family down. He had to live up to their belief in him.
"I'll do whatever you need, sir," he said without hesitation.
Don Mineo stared impassively from beneath thick steel eyebrows, his sharp blue eyes betraying nothing.
Lasse's fists clenched tighter at his side.
The moments dragged on with his racing heartbeat and the shadows of the ballroom began to dance.
Then, Vito Mineo smiled.
"Excellent," he proclaimed.
And at his blessing, the tension in the air dissolved. Michael was beaming as Don Coll waved Lasse up to an empty seat at the table. The light of the setting sun flashed blue then orange than red as someone poured him a glass of his own.
Sumeragi quickly sobered to continue the briefing. "We know Mineo will come to the meet himself," she said seriously, before Tieria could interrupt her, "because Chris has promised information about a device that can completely disrupt all communication and block every sensor within range.
Tieria all but gaped at her. "You mean to tell me," he sputtered as soon as he'd caught his breath again, "that you're peddling the GN Drive's technology to the mafia?"
"Now, hang on, Tieria," Lockon said, putting a hand down on his shoulder to keep him from exploding out of his seat. "Veda approved this plan, remember? Miss Sumeragi isn't going to do anything to jeopardize our operations."
Tieria whirled on him, all righteous indignation. "I'm not so sure!"
"Tieria," Sumeragi sighed, leaning forward onto the table with both hands. "People have been searching for this kind of technology for decades. Just like they have with beam sabers. It's been part of science fiction culture for over three hundred years and I'm sure this isn't the first time someone's approached the mafia claiming to have it. But because we do have the technology, we can mock up some pretty convincing fake blueprints. That don't work," she stressed. "They don't work. And they won't give anything away. I'd never allow the mafia to get their hands on any of Celestial Being's technology."
Everyone could see that Tieria didn't really believe her, but at least he'd given up on fighting out of his seat. Lockon's grip on his shoulder slowly loosened.
With one more glance in Tieria's direction, Sumeragi continued her briefing.
"Now… Chris has mocked up some incredibly impressive partial formulas and Mineo is convinced that what we've slipped him is the real deal," she said, fingertips tapping on the tabletop. "And he thinks that the person he's been talking to is the developer. And that the developer is going to be the person at the meet. He won't risk anyone else getting their hands on this first, not even the Colls. That's why he'll be there himself. And why he'll want to take Allelujah with him. This will be our best, and likely only, shot at Mineo while he's in town. Before he goes back underground," Sumeragi said, swiping at the screen to bring up a new visual.
A three dimensional render of the alleyway slowly rotated out in a four block radius. Lockon watched closely as brightly colored angles and trajectories overlaid each building in turn.
"After careful combing, Veda and I have identified these four buildings as the best potential locations," she told him with a sweep of her hand, stepping back so he could get a clear look at the screen. "But, Lockon, since you're the expert, I'll leave your final placement up to you."
Tieria snorted but Lockon ignored him in favor of pushing out of his chair to scan the numbers flying across the screen beside each location. Stepping forward, he tapped at the screen to slow the looping footage, but nothing happened. He tapped at it again.
"Your gloves," Feldt said quietly, and he turned, eyebrows raised. "It's your gloves," she explained. "It's a touch screen."
"…Right," he said, blankly. "Uh, Miss Sumeragi," he asked, turning around again, "could you? Could you get it to go back to the— yeah the— no, that was— yes, that one right there," he said, holding up a hand as a four story building came into focus. "And… freeze it."
He stared at the screen intently, passing a still-gloved hand over his mouth. "And rotate twenty degrees to the right?" he asked. She spun the image on the screen slowly. "And up? A little more," he said, then nodded thoughtfully. "What building is this?"
"Feldt?" Sumeragi asked and they both turned to hear her profile.
"An old office building," Feldt supplied without bothering to look in her folder. "Abandoned. There was a fire on the third floor a couple years ago that blew out all of the windows and completely mangled the elevator shafts. It cost so much to gut the place that they didn't want to renovate and no one was willing to buy, so it's been vacant ever since."
Sumeragi waved her hand and a photo of the building appeared, superimposed over the outline that had been there moments before. They could all see, now, the flame-licked blackened bricks on the upper two stories and the row of shattered windows that has long since been boarded up with rough plywood.
"What kind of security?" he asked.
"Minimal," Feldt said. "Trespass notices and padlocks on the front and back doors that you could get through with a bolt cutter. We didn't detect anything on the roof. And there's only one working camera on the back door from the alleyway."
"And I'll be able to take care of that, no problem," Chris told him.
"What do you think?" Sumeragi asked Lockon.
"That'll be perfect," he said. Then he turned back to speak directly to Allelujah, "From that rooftop, I'll have a good view of everything happening in that alleyway.".
Allelujah stared with one wide eye, then nodded slowly. Lockon nodded back, reassuringly, as he sat down again.
"If all goes well," Sumeragi resumed, also addressing Allelujah now, "there will be no danger to you whatsoever. But you will need to make a very quick exit once this goes down," she told him. "Veda and I have marked out eight different escape routes. I will be assessing in real time and Chris will be on your line, dedicated to guiding you out. You're not going to be alone on this."
Allelujah's clenched fists went even whiter but he nodded.
"And if all doesn't go well?" Tieria asked, pointedly.
"Well," Sumeragi pulled back and crossed her arms as she mused, "That's why Lockon's there."
