Cassian's Gambit

Cassian paced the length of the Aurelius library, frustration building in his chest like a pressure valve ready to burst. The vast chamber stretched before him, shelves of ancient texts—real paper books, not digital—filling every available space. Vaulted ceilings arched overhead, painted with scenes depicting the ascension of the sovereign. The room felt oppressive despite its size, a physical manifestation of the walls closing in on his plans.

Severian won't help me. Without his patronage, I have no way into the institute.

His fists clenched and unclenched rhythmically as he paced. The rejection stung worse than the physical thrashing Severian had given him. The bruises on his ribs and face were nothing compared to the wound to his pride, and more importantly, to his mission.

I need leverage. Something to force his hand.

Cassian stopped before a large, ornate desk positioned beneath a stained-glass window that bathed the room in fractured light. The window depicted the phoenix, the Aurelius family crest, rising from flames.

On the desk lay scattered datapads and rolled architectural plans. Glancing over his shoulder to ensure he was alone, Cassian leaned in to examine them. His eyes widened as he recognized a cross-sectional diagram of a massive pyramid structure.

"Curious about our family history, are we?"

Cassian startled, spinning to find Rhyanna standing in the doorway. The elderly doll moved with surprising grace for her apparent age. Despite her classification as a doll, there was nothing servile in her bearing. She carried herself with the dignity of someone who had earned her place through decades of loyalty.

"I was just..." Cassian faltered, hands moving instinctively away from the plans.

"Looking at the Aurelius catacombs," she finished for him, approaching to stand beside him at the desk. "Don't worry, child. These aren't classified. The pyramid is a matter of public record, even if access to it is restricted."

Cassian nodded, deciding honesty—or at least partial honesty—was the best approach. "I was trying to learn more about the family. About Severian. If I'm going to convince him to help me, I need to understand him better."

Rhyanna's amber synthetic eyes studied him with unnerving intensity. Then, unexpectedly, her face softened.

"You act like her at times, you know. Phoebe."

"The sister?" Cassian asked, suddenly alert. "The one who died at the institute?"

"Yes." Rhyanna's fingers trailed over the plans with a certain reverence. "She had the same determination. The same fire." She sighed, "And perhaps the same doom awaits you if you pursue this path."

"Tell me about the pyramid," Cassian said, redirecting the conversation. "What is it exactly?"

Rhyanna pulled up a chair and sat, gesturing for Cassian to do the same. As he settled across from her, she activated a holographic projection from one of the datapads. The pyramid materialized between them, rotating slowly to showcase its complex interior.

"The Emeshi Pyramid was constructed when the Aurelius family was first granted dominion over Sillus. It serves as both a monument to our achievements and a necropolis for our fallen. The palatines of our lineage rest within its catacombs."

The hologram zoomed in, revealing labyrinthine passages and chambers within the structure.

"The inner sanctum houses the most valuable Aurelius artifacts—weapons, armor, and treasures accumulated over centuries of service to the Imperium."

"And these shifting walls?" Cassian asked, pointing to sections of the hologram where the passages rearranged themselves.

"A security measure. The pyramid houses an artificial intelligence, not sentient, of course, nothing like the abominations from the Singularity but sophisticated enough to reconfigure the interior layout on a pattern. Only those with Aurelius authorization codes can navigate directly to the inner sanctum."

Cassian leaned forward, feigning casual interest while his mind raced with possibilities. "And the competition I've heard about? The one during Allentyr?"

Rhyanna's expression darkened. "The Treasure Hunt. A gaudy spectacle organized by the Miara and Saheman families since Severian withdrew from public life. They use it to evaluate potential candidates for the institute, offering patronage to the winners." She shook her head in disapproval. "They've transformed a sacred tradition into a bloodsport for their amusement. Candidates die every year."

"So it's dangerous?"

"Exceedingly. The beasts they stock the labyrinth with are genetically engineered for lethality. And that's not counting the danger posed by rival competitors willing to eliminate the competition."

"And Severian allows this?"

Rhyanna's laugh held no humor. "My lord has retreated from the world since the slaughter of his family. The Miara and Saheman encroach further each year, testing the boundaries of his indifference." She fixed Cassian with a pointed stare. "But make no mistake, his apparent disinterest is not weakness. When provoked sufficiently, he is... formidable."

Cassian nodded, remembering the ease with which Severian had dispatched him the previous night.

"Why are you telling me all this?" he asked.

Rhyanna stood, smoothing the fabric of her simple gray dress. "Because I see the calculations behind your eyes, young Cassian. Whatever you're planning, proceed with caution. This household has seen enough tragedy."

She moved to leave, then paused at the doorway. "And should you seek to impress my lord, remember this: Severian values cunning and loyalty above all else. Raw ambition without direction is merely chaos."

With that cryptic advice, she left Cassian alone with the rotating hologram of the pyramid and the beginnings of a dangerous plan.

Two hours later, Cassian found Pollan in the estate's central courtyard, tending to a peculiar garden of bioluminescent plants. The stiff, formal butler knelt among the foliage, his black uniform incongruous against the riot of glowing blues and purples.

"Pollan," Cassian called, approaching cautiously. "I need to ask a favor."

The butler rose with fluid grace that belied his apparent age. His face remained impassive as ever, eyes assessing Cassian with clinical detachment.

"Young master Cassian. I trust your accommodations are satisfactory?"

"They're fine. I was wondering if I could leave the premises. I'd like to see Sillus proper."

Pollan's eyebrow arched a fraction of a millimeter.

"That would be inadvisable. Your presence here has been noted by certain parties with an interest in your... elimination."

"All the more reason to learn my surroundings," Cassian countered. "I can't hide in this castle forever."

"Indeed." Pollan considered him for a long moment. "I could accompany you as an escort."

"No offense, but I'd rather go alone. I need to clear my head."

The butler studied him, his gray eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts. Finally, he reached into his pocket and produced a sleek datapad and a small metallic card.

"Take these. The datapad contains a map of Sillus with secure routes marked. The card carries three thousand credits, enough for modest expenses but not enough to attract unwanted attention."

Cassian accepted both with genuine surprise. "Thank you."

"There is a grav-bike in the service bay. Are you familiar with the operation of such vehicles?"

Cassian nodded, though in truth, the memories of Cassian's abilities mingled confusingly with Kai's lack of experience with such technology. Still, he was confident he could manage.

"There is an access tunnel that opens onto the outskirts of the city," Pollan continued. "It will allow you to depart discreetly. I will show you."

As they walked toward the service bay, Cassian ventured a question that had been bothering him. "Why are you helping me? You don't seem to trust me."

"I don't," Pollan confirmed without hesitation. "But Lord Severian has granted you sanctuary, despite his personal reservations. That is enough for me to extend certain courtesies." He paused. "Additionally, young men confined against their will tend to find alternate, more destructive means of escape. I prefer to control the variables."

The service bay housed an array of vehicles, from sleek atmospheric flyers to more modest ground transportation. Pollan led him to a grav-bike; a streamlined machine of brushed metal and glowing blue accents that hovered a foot above the ground.

"Return before midnight," Pollan instructed, pressing his palm to a scanner that opened the access tunnel, a narrow passage cutting through the cliff face. "After that, the security protocols engage, and the defense systems may not recognize you as a guest rather than an intruder."

Cassian mounted the bike, feeling its gentle vibration beneath him. "Understood."

"And Master Cassian?" Pollan added, his tone unchanged but somehow more pointed. "Whatever you're planning... consider the consequences. Not just for yourself, but for this household."

Before Cassian could respond, Pollan turned and walked away, his posture rigid as ever.

Everybody here thinks they can read my mind, Cassian thought with irritation as he activated the grav-bike's controls. The machine responded instantly, surging forward into the darkness of the tunnel.

The tunnel opened onto a secluded hillside overlooking Sillus proper. As Cassian emerged, the full spectacle of the city spread before him.

Sillus was Venice reimagined through the lens of far-future technology. Canals crisscrossed between gleaming structures of glass and metal, their surfaces reflecting the perpetual twilight of Venus's filtered sunlight. Arching bridges of translucent materials connected islands of urban development, while above, personal transport crafts navigated designated flight lanes like schools of mechanical fish.

The city center rose in a cluster of spires that pierced the lower cloud layer, their surfaces alive with massive holographic displays advertising everything from the latest entertainment to recruitment messages for the Imperial legions. Below, at water level, smaller craft navigated the canals while pedestrians traversed elevated walkways on foot or using personal grav-boots that allowed them to skate inches above the ground.

Cassian let the grav-bike descend toward the city, exhilaration building in his chest as he accelerated. The machine responded to the slightest shift of his weight, banking and weaving through the air with an intuitive grace that felt almost like an extension of his body.

This is incredible, he thought, a genuine smile breaking across his face for the first time since awakening in this strange future. The wind whipped past him as he dove toward the canal network, pulling up at the last moment to skim just above the water's surface. Startled pedestrians on a nearby walkway turned to watch the reckless display, their expressions ranging from annoyance to admiration.

Cassian guided the bike upward again, merging into a designated vehicle lane that wound between the buildings of the commercial district. Here, the architecture grew more densely packed, the gleaming facades of the wealthier sectors giving way to more utilitarian structures. Holographic advertisements still floated at intersections, but they advertised lower-tier products; synthetic foods, basic medical services, discount entertainment packages.

As he continued eastward, following the directions on Pollan's datapad, the character of the city changed more drastically. The waterways became narrower, choked with waste and makeshift floating structures that served as extensions of the overcrowded buildings. The sleek metal and glass of the city center gave way to prefabricated housing units stacked haphazardly atop older stone structures; the remnants of the original terraforming colony.

This was the underbelly of Venus's supposedly utopian society. The places where the homunculi and lower-tier humans carved out existence in the margins of the Imperium's glory. Grav-vehicles grew scarce here, replaced by ground-bound transport or older model hover-craft held together with improvised repairs. 

Cassian descended to street level, deactivating the grav-bike outside a dilapidated structure that had once been grand but now slouched between newer, shoddier buildings like an aging aristocrat forced to live among commoners. A faded holographic sign flickered erratically above the entrance: "NEPTUNE'S TRIDENT."

He was here to secure the first piece of his grand plan. Baudin Talam, the uncrowned prince of the underworld who had risen from the ashes of the aftermath of the upcoming Homunculi war. He would go on to displace the old man of the fire after a lengthy turf war, as the leader of the underworld in Sillus and majority of Venus. But that was at least three years in the future, for now he was just an over ambitious leader of a gang, working as an agent for the argentum guild, a covert organization that handled assassinations for palatine nobles. Cassian knowing his history and future, had traced him to his base. He needed him to make it into the competition.

As Cassian approached the door, two figures detached themselves from the shadows flanking the entrance. Both were human—or at least human-passing—with the hard eyes and tense postures of men accustomed to violence. The taller one, sporting a cranial implant that pulsed with subdued blue light, stepped directly into Cassian's path.

"Private establishment," he stated flatly. "Members only."

The second man, shorter but broader, moved to Cassian's left, partially blocking his escape route. "You lost, pretty boy? Upper city's that way." He jerked his thumb northward.

Cassian maintained a neutral expression, assessing both men quickly. They were armed discreetly, but the slight bulge beneath the taller one's jacket suggested a compact pulse weapon, while the shorter man's stance indicated a blade sheathed at his lower back.

"I have business with Baudin," Cassian stated calmly.

The guards exchanged glances, subtle but communicative.

"Nobody sees Baudin without an invitation," the taller one said. "And he doesn't deal with outsiders."

"Tell him it's someone from the guild," Cassian pressed. "Trust me he'll want to know."

"You deaf? I said—"

Cassian moved before the man could finish, stepping forward and driving his palm upward beneath the guard's chin. The impact snapped the man's head back, stunning him momentarily. In the same fluid motion, Cassian pivoted, catching the shorter guard's wrist as he drew his blade. Twisting sharply, he forced the man to drop the weapon and a serrated combat knife that clattered to the ground.

The shorter guard growled and lunged, but Cassian sidestepped, using the man's momentum against him to slam him face-first into the wall. The taller guard had recovered and was reaching for his weapon, but froze when Cassian pressed the fallen knife against his companion's throat.

"I'm not looking for trouble," Cassian said evenly. "Just a conversation with your employer."

A slow clapping sound echoed from the doorway. All three men turned to see a young woman with close-cropped hair and a facial tattoo of geometric patterns extending from her left temple down her neck.

"Well done," she said, her voice tinged with amusement. "Jace and Moro don't often end up on the losing side of these little interactions." She gestured toward the door. "Baudin's curious about the man asking for him by name. You can go in, but I'll take that." She extended her hand for the knife.

Cassian released the guard and handed over the weapon, maintaining eye contact with the woman. She smiled, the expression not reaching her eyes, and stepped aside to allow him entry.

The interior of Neptune's Trident defied the derelict exterior. Past a narrow entryway, the space opened into a cavernous room dominated by a central bar constructed from what appeared to be the hull section of an ancient spacecraft. The metal surface was polished to a high sheen, illuminated from below by strips of blue lighting that gave the impression of water flowing beneath the surface.

Above, suspended antigrav platforms served as private booths, accessible by narrow spiral staircases or personal grav-lifts for patrons wealthy enough to afford such luxuries. Each platform rotated slowly, offering changing views of the establishment below. Holographic screens projected sporting events and news feeds on the walls, while smaller personal projections flickered above tables where patrons engaged in games of chance or strategy.

The clientele was a mix of humans and homunculi, the genetic distinctions sometimes difficult to discern at a glance. A band performed on a small stage in one corner, their instruments producing sounds that ranged from haunting melodies to rhythmic pulses that Cassian could feel in his chest cavity.

The woman led him through the crowd toward the rear of the establishment, where a secluded booth sat elevated on a small platform. A privacy field shimmered around it, distorting the view of the occupants but not completely obscuring them.

As they approached, the field parted like a curtain. Inside sat a young man, younger than Cassian had expected based on Baudin's future reputation. He couldn't be more than twenty-two, with sharp features and closely-cropped hair. He wore a leather jacket of authentic animal hide—an obscene luxury on Venus—over a simple black shirt. One hand manipulated glowing geometric shapes in a holographic game projection, while the other held a sleek vaporizer that emitted occasional plumes of iridescent smoke.

Most striking was the way he sat, a casual slouch that couldn't quite hide the stiffness in his left leg, stretched awkwardly to one side. A chrome-and-carbon brace encircled the limb from mid-thigh to ankle, occasionally emitting soft mechanical whirs as it adjusted to his movements.

"So," Baudin said without looking up from his game, "you're the mysterious stranger asking for me by name." His voice was deeper than his youthful appearance suggested, with an accent Cassian couldn't quite place. "Claiming to be from the Argentum Guild, no less."

He gestured to the seat across from him. As Cassian sat, two burly guards positioned themselves just outside the privacy field.

"I don't recall meeting you," Baudin continued, finally looking up. His eyes were pale gray, almost colorless, and utterly cold. "And I know all the Argentum operators in this sector."

He's testing me, Cassian realized. Let's see if my future knowledge holds up.

"I don't operate in this sector typically," Cassian replied smoothly. "I was assigned to Callisto until recently. Under Madame Visari's division."

Baudin's eyebrows raised slightly. "Visari, huh? And she sent you here for what purpose?"

"She didn't. I'm pursuing a personal matter that happens to overlap with some of your... activities."

Baudin completed a complex maneuver in his game, geometric shapes locking into place with a satisfying chime before the projection vanished. He took a long drag from his vaporizer, the smoke curling around his face like a living thing before dissipating.

"You're lying," he stated matter-of-factly. "Madame Visari was killed three months ago in a Guild purge. Anyone working under her would know that." His hand moved subtly beneath the table, likely to a concealed weapon. "So I'll ask once: who are you really, and why shouldn't I have my people dispose of your body in the canals?"

Shit. Cassian's mind raced. The information from his "past" knowledge clearly had gaps or inaccuracies. He needed to pivot quickly.

"You're right," he admitted, raising his hands slightly in a placating gesture. "I'm not with the Guild. But I do have information that would be extremely valuable to someone in your position. Information about an opportunity in the Emeshi Pyramid during the upcoming Allentyr festival."

Baudin's eyes narrowed, but his interest was clearly piqued. "Go on."

"There's going to be a theft during the competition," Cassian explained. "A team posing as candidates will infiltrate the inner sanctum and make off with Aurelius artifacts worth a fortune on the black market."

"And how would you know this?"

Because I read about it in a book from another timeline. Obviously, Cassian couldn't say that.

"Because I was approached to be part of the team," he improvised. "But I recognized a double-cross when I see one. The people behind this have no intention of sharing the profits with the actual thieves."

"And who exactly are these people?" Baudin asked, his tone skeptical but engaged.

"The Miara family," Cassian replied confidently. "They're using the competition as cover to steal artifacts they believe Severian Aurelius doesn't care enough about to protect. Once they have them, they'll eliminate everyone involved in the theft to cover their tracks."

Baudin studied him, taking another drag from his vaporizer. "That's quite a story. And your interest in telling me this is...?"

"I want in on a counter-operation," Cassian said. "I need to get into that competition under a false identity. With my knowledge of their plan and the schematics I've obtained from the Aurelius library, we could beat them at their own game. Take the artifacts first."

And in the process, I'll expose the plot to Severian, proving my worth and earning his patronage, Cassian added silently.

"You have access to the Aurelius library?" Baudin asked sharply. "How?"

"I'm staying at the Stone of Sillus. As a guest."

That got Baudin's full attention. He leaned forward, the privacy field darkening to further obscure them from outside view.

"You expect me to believe the reclusive Lord Aurelius is hosting you? The man hasn't entertained visitors in years."

"My parents worked for him," Cassian said, offering a partial truth. "They were killed. He's offering sanctuary out of respect for their service."

Baudin considered this, fingers drumming on the table. "Let's say I believe you. What's your split?"

"I don't care about the artifacts," Cassian said. "You can have them all. What I want is to expose the Miara family's plot in a way that can't be covered up. I have my own reasons for wanting to embarrass them."

And impress Severian enough to gain his patronage.

"Revenge, then," Baudin nodded, a hint of respect entering his expression. "That, at least, I understand." He took a final drag from his vaporizer before setting it aside. "But I don't work with unknowns. And despite your little display with my guards outside, I need more than words to trust you."

"Name your test," Cassian said confidently.

Baudin's lips curled into a cold smile. "Information. If you're truly staying at the Stone of Sillus, tell me something about its current state that only someone with access would know."

Cassian didn't hesitate. "There's a garden in the central courtyard filled with bioluminescent plants that Pollan tends daily. Severian trains with dual whip-swords in a private hall in the east wing. And Rhyanna, the elder doll who serves as his confidante, sleeps in a chamber adjoining his, not as a concubine, but as a protector."

Baudin's eyes widened fractionally. The first genuine reaction Cassian had seen from him.

"Interesting," he murmured. "Very interesting." He seemed to come to a decision. "Alright. I'll provide you with credentials for the competition and two of my people to accompany you. In exchange, I want detailed schematics of the pyramid's current layout, advance notice of when the Miara team plans to move, and eighty percent of whatever we recover."

"Seventy percent," Cassian countered automatically. "And I choose which artifacts we take."

Baudin laughed, a surprisingly genuine sound. "You've got balls, I'll give you that." He extended his hand. "Seventy-five percent, and you can have first pick of one item for yourself. The rest is mine to distribute."

Cassian considered briefly, then clasped the offered hand. "Deal."

"I'll have my people contact you with details," Baudin said. "Use the datapad you're carrying, it has standard encryption, but it'll suffice for basic communication. Nothing explicit, though. The Aurelius AIs are rumored to monitor all transmissions in and out of the Stone."

Cassian nodded and stood to leave. As he turned, Baudin called after him.

"One more thing, if you're playing me, remember that I don't forget faces. And I'm very, very patient when it comes to settling debts."

"I'll keep that in mind," Cassian replied, stepping through the privacy field and back into the noise of the main room.

Behind him, Baudin waited until Cassian was well out of earshot before beckoning to a slender figure lurking in the shadows near his booth. 

"Follow him," Baudin instructed. "I want to know everywhere he goes, everyone he talks to. And find out what connection he really has to the Aurelius household."

The blonde figure nodded silently and slipped away, moving with the fluid grace of someone expertly trained in stealth.

Baudin returned to his game, the geometric shapes reforming above the table. But his mind was elsewhere, calculating probabilities and potential profits from this unexpected opportunity and the numerous ways it could be a trap.