Wanted, Foul, and Worthy - Part 7

Part 7

Shootout at the Ancient Courtyard

Jude led Dillon through the zigzagging alleyways in the direction she had seen the ancient structures.  The walls around them were primarily connected to intact buildings, but some were walls that had crumbled a few meters up.  Dillon turned his head time and again to make sure no one was behind them.  They were racing the sunlight, trying to get as far along as they could before the sky was alight.

They made it to a road where they would have to cross into the open to make it to their destination; which was, in turn, an open-air plaza with scattered stone structures.  They each drew their weapons.

“Any of your cybernetics working?” Dillon asked.

“Thanks to you, I only have my eye bionics.  And using those gives me a headache.”

“Well, you're going to need to negote a headache if we're going to rec there alive.  You ready?”

Jude answered by heading out into the street.  She blinked her infrared into one eye and targeting into the other.  They made her dizzy and she had to walk carefully, trying to step where she had already looked at the road to make sure it was clear.

Dillon watched behind them, almost walking backward, as he also glanced ahead to double check her view.  His one cybernetic eye was set for high res analysis.  It was the same trick he had used when he took down Jude.  Snapshots were constantly being taken of likely hiding locations and being analyzed for targets.  If one was found, he could target the spot and point his arm without even looking at it.

They made it more than halfway down the street and were nearing the plaza on the opposite side.  The antique walls stood out from the other ruins both because of the stark difference in architecture, and because they had an artificial appearance to them; like they were plastic set pieces.  Jude knew they weren't.  Old alien buildings had a look to them that was so foreign they seemed unreal.  Still, they caught her attention...

...and for too long as she missed the merc leaning out a third story window, gun pointed and ready to fire.  Dillon caught the man just in time and fired.  The shot went through him and his own shot fired off into the distance.  Jude eyed Dillon with surprise, and said begrudgingly, “Thanks.”

“Keep your eyes on the targets,” Dillon said.

They took a step down into the courtyard.  It looked like a giant, empty shallow pool with archaic decor littering the grounds, and crumbled, synthetic mortar walls framing the sides.  Somewhere among them would be a statue pointing them in the correct direction.  Jude blinked her eye out of infrared and into detail enhancement since the light was getting brighter all around them.  She winced in pain as she did, and the strain of keeping the cybernetics running were getting to her.

Dillon orbited Jude as they went, covering every angle.  They passed partial columns whose toppled tops made for low hiding locations.  They passed partially rotted sculptures whose forms had worn and smoothed over the millennia.  They rounded a facade that had once belonged to a building that was now long gone, and they passed over decorative reliefs in the floor.  All of it would be fascinating to one who studied long-lost cultures, but the two former enemies were trying to not become part of the exhibit.

Just as Dillon moved to Jude's right, one of the mercs appeared around a pillar to her left.  Neither spotted him.  He aimed directly for Jude's head and had a clear shot.  But Dillon's high res detection kicked in and found him.  His hand snapped in the direction of the attacker and fired.  The merc ducked back around the pillar just in time.

Dillon chased after him hurrying for a better angle.  Jude turned to see what was happening, but the sudden movement made her dizzy, and she lost track of them as Dillon weaved behind the downed part of the pillar.

Jude took a couple steps in the direction Dillon had gone, and found that she was facing two of the mercs standing under an archway, their guns drawn.  Jude's targeting was taking a moment to land on them, but she didn't have time to wait.  She dodged to one side and avoided a volley from them.  Then she shot the archway above them and it came tumbling down.  Both mercs dodged out of the way, but one of them did so closer to Jude.  That was his doom, as she shot him in the chest.

Dillon's merc retreated, and he chased him around a corner.  There he was met by the merc who had survived Jude's attack, and she fired and hit Dillon in the shoulder.  Surprised, he stumbled back, and his own shot went wild.  He went for cover, but the woman was on him.  Firing once and just missing, she adjusted directly onto his back.  The other merc backed her up and they both fired.

The shots were deflected out of the air.  They looked up to see Jude standing atop one of the monuments.  Her legs were shaking and she grimaced in pain, the result of using cybernetics that weren't fully healed, but she remained steady, and she shot them both down.

Dillon sighed with relief, but then his own enhancement caught a glimpse of the merc leader bearing down on Jude.  He didn't hesitate to warn her, he just fired, and hit the commander in the face.

Smiling with pride, Dillon looked up at Jude to see her weapon pointed at him.  She was breathing heavy and had a crazed look in her eye.  He couldn't tell if she was bearing down on him for some plan, or because something snapped.  He had heard the bionics sometimes played with the mind.  He said, “If you're going to kill me, it better not be half way.  'Cause anyone who tries to rub me into the ground and fails will soon be regretting they did.”

Jude blinked.  Her cybernetics disappeared from her eyes, and she put her pistol away.  She looked in the direction they had been walking and pointed.  “Found it,” she said.

Dillon kept his pistol ready as they marched forward.“Your friend is still out there,” Dillon said.  “You're going to want to stay armed.”

“He only wants you dead.  He needs me,” Jude said, and they came upon the statue.  It was a winged edifice; perhaps the Abnani version of an angel, or possibly of a bird.  The plastement, which held the alien structures together over millennia still had its limits, and many of the details had faded over time.  The fact that it was alien made it all the harder to discern what various minutiae were supposed to be.

But the most important aspect could not be missed.  One of its wings was pointing toward the southwest.

To be continued...

Wanted, Foul, and Worthy - Part 6

Part 6

The Ruins of Roslow

The stone and ash crunched beneath Bowie's feet as he carefully made his way through the ruins.  He had to move slowly along the mounds of rubble partly to avoid slipping in the dark, but also to make sure he did not miss valuables that might be hidden within them.  Berifir and Jorvex corporations had demolished the town in the process of trying to destroy each other.  The civilians had fled to a makeshift refugee camp, which left the remains of the city unguarded for the night.  Anything that disappeared would be considered destroyed in the battle.

The grade of the ruins began to rise steeply, and he eagerly climbed up the stone slabs.  The top floors of high rises often bore the treasure troves of top executives.  He was so confident that more would be at the top that he didn't slow to look at what might be buried along the way.

Once he made it close enough, he pointed his Spectrometer toward the rubble and searched.  A hologram floated just over the device, revealing what was being detected.  He widened its range, but not so large that the glowing bubble would attract attention.  Then he increased the distance further inside.  The holo-image shimmered as the ghostly mirages of rubble wiped by.  He stopped briefly when he thought he saw something, but it was just the body of a casualty, so he scrolled past.  About ten meters in, it faded to the point where it was hard to see anything.  That would be too far to dig anyway, so he moved on.

A little further he tried again, and he found two objects of interest.  One was a busted case of jewelry; the other was a doll.  Neither was far down, so he dug away some of the debris to get closer.  He then took his Appraisometer from his pack and scanned them.  The jewelry was nice, but the metals in them were not rare enough to warrant a high price.  But the doll, it had certain flaws, but just the right ones.  Collectors sought this item because of its peculiar rarities.  He quickly stashed the device and continued clawing away.

A bright light caught his attention as it flew down toward a flat portion of road.  Bowie took cover and watched.  It wasn't a warship.  In fact, it appeared to be a transport of some kind.  The masthead on its front was a generic design of nothing in particular, and its hull was utilitarian without windows.  A prison ship, perhaps?

After it landed, the cockpit hatch opened.  Bowie watched with keen interest through his Telenoculars.  A lone individual stepped out.  Behind him, two bodies could be spotted lying on the floor.  Now with particular enthusiasm, Bowie switched on the HUD to scan the man's face to cross-reference with wanted postings.  A number of entries appeared.

Bowie was no bounty hunter, but this man counted as one of the treasures he was seeking, and certainly worth much more than any trinket.  He could search this city all night and not find as much value as there would be in this one man.  And some corporations wanted him dead, so Bowie wouldn't even need to keep him sedated as he drug him around.

The wanted man seemed lost, and uncertain where to go.  Unfamiliar with the location; that should make the hunt even better.  He wandered a bit down one of the streets.  Bowie followed from a safe distance, popping on his infrared goggles so he could follow from behind cover.  The target reacted when Bowie knocked over some debris and it cascaded down the hill of ruins.  Bowie remained still, and allowed the man to get further ahead of him so as not to attract his attention again.

They reached a part of town that was less destroyed.  Several of the taller buildings even remained standing.  The man found one that had been a hotel.  Though the electricity was clearly out, the structure was intact, and he went inside.

Bowie watched from the outside.  He could see the glow from the light fade away into the building, then it blackened all at once.  He patiently waited, watching the sullen building as it provided no clues for a long while.  Then one of the windows on the fourth floor began to glow.  The light wobbled as it moved, then stopped in one place, where it remained, then faded.  Bowie counted up, then across the grid of windows to determine where he was.  He then grabbed Serggie, his pistol, and headed inside.

Dillon had drawn a bath in the room.  He was tired and tense, and he needed to relax.  He also wanted hot water to run over the wounds he had received inside Nikos' office.  The city appeared to be completely abandoned, so he had no need to worry.  He placed a towel at the head of the tub, rested one hand under it and laid his head down on it as he drifted off in the steam.  He had filled it almost to the brim, so some of the water spilled out the edge.  No need to worry, though.  It wasn't as if the staff would complain.

He hadn't realized how tired he was until he drifted off.  Dillon had gone nonstop for a couple days; and of course there was his brother.  That one thought kept him from entirely falling asleep.  He would be close, and then that look of judgment would appear.  Dillon would shake it off, but then the face of his sister would appear.  His dead sister.  He would see her as the smiling girl she had been, and then he would see her as a corpse.  And then... what she would be now; no more than a skeleton.  He couldn't imagine that.

His eyes shot open while picturing this to find someone in is room.  It was a scrawny rat of a man wearing little more than rags, pointing an IH-94 pistol at him.  The barrel was shaking with nerves and excitement.  The man's face held a greedy smile.  He wasn't used to this, but he was ready to try.

“This is nothing personal,” Bowie said.  “A man's gotta mag a living.  Especially when the business he worked for's been destroyed and every prospect he has is rolled over.  I can only pick through junk for so long.  And I'm abso whatever you done to get yourself wanted means you deserve to die.  I'm not gonna feel bad for...”

Dillon's hand whipped out from under the towel wielding his pistol and he shot the looter in the face.  He then leaned out of the tub and said to the corpse, “When you have a chance to shoot someone, just shut up and do it.”

*          *          *

Jude was sitting inside the window frame of an apartment; her leg against one side and her back against the other.  The fact that she was five stories up didn't bother her; she had a great sense of balance that had returned.

Two of the mercs were in the same room pretending to play a card game.  Jude could tell they were there to keep an eye on her.  Their game was too sloppy to be taken seriously, and it was what she knew Nikos would do.  He had injected a tracking device into her, but he didn't want her to have a chance to get very far if she did leave.  Jude did not blame him.  She was his only way of finding the Mandrake Leonne, the only reason he had come to this planet.

However, she was beginning to distrust him.  They at best had had a working relationship, and she had personally witnessed his ruthlessness.  Even now, she had looked through a doorway at Nikos speaking with the merc commander.  When Nikos saw her, he smiled his phony grin, then moved the commander away from the door so she could neither see nor hear them.

Then she heard the shot.  The sound had bounced around the ruined walls and its source was a fair distance away, far enough that the sound didn't make it into the room where the two guards were talking.  But she had heard it well enough, and she recognized the specific pitch.  Custom-crafted weapons that any self-respecting gunslinger carried all had a specific tone unique to themselves.  Many people didn't hear it, but those who were used to the sound, or who had highly-tuned hearing such as Jude, could distinguish the minute differences.  It was Dillon.He had probably gotten wind of the name of the planet, but it wasn't likely he knew where the treasure was.  He would be out searching for her, but he wouldn't want her dead.

Dillon would likely find them when they started out in the morning toward their destination.  Nikos had wisely decided not to travel at night.  The wilderness of Ocasol was rugged terrain and a lot could happen with them falling or rocks falling on them, not to mention the fierce animals that likely lived out there.  And then there were the armies who were always on alert and might mistake them for spies.  At least during the daylight Nikos' band could see the battle scars from far enough away to avoid them.

Being the only person who knew where the Mandrake Leonne was, Jude was at the center of everything.  She considered her odds, and the best course of action, and she sat down to play cards with the others.

As she figured, they didn't know what they were doing, so she set out to teach them Bancfresca, a game where each player tries to match a part of what they believe other players will be laying out with the hands are revealed.  She presented the game with fun and zeal, laughing at mistakes she and the others made.  She lost on purpose, and helped the male guard win.  She, in fact, built up a resentment in the female guard enough to cause her to leave the room.

Slowly, the mercs were going to sleep.  Nikos took the main bedroom for himself and locked himself away.  It eventually whittled down to only a few who were still awake.  They didn't have long before the sun would rise, so they were getting what little sleep they could.

But not Jude and themerc.  She had won him over with flattery and her wide smile, and her ability to act like he was in on a secret with her.  Then she locked eyes with him and fell silent.  He looked back at her curiously.  She nudged her head toward the bathroom, then hopped up and strolled quietly inside.  He stood as well, and tried to be as quiet as he followed.

There, Jude was already unfastening the clip on her togablouse.  He put one hand to help, and began to wrap another hand around her chest.  She rolled one hand back around his neck in an embrace and laid her head back so her lips were in his ear.  She whispered, “Stay quiet.”  Then her other hand grabbed the towel and she whipped it to the first hand.  In a flash, she had the towel around his neck and had slipped around behind him.  She kicked him to the ground and tugged.  Low gagging noises spurted from his open mouth, but nothing more as his face turned blue.  His hands clawed back at her, but they grew weak, and finally went limp.  Jude made sure to lock the door, then rapidly opened the window, and climbed outside.

Five stories to the ground wasn't difficult for Jude, but it was slow; slower than she'd like.  Once at the bottom, she was short on time.

She hurried down alleyways in the direction she had heard the shot.  The task would have been easier when taking main streets, but these would be open to sight from Nikos' apartment building, so she avoided them.

She arrived at the back of the building where she believed the sound likely originated.  Its walls were more solid than a lot of those around it, some of which had crumbled.  This was the sort of place where Dillon would seek shelter.

Just as she approached one of the back doors, she heard a sound that made her realize she had gotten the right place, but that was about to be a problem.  She turned to see Dillon holding two pistols at her.  “Where'd you pick up that piece?” she asked.

“Where's the Mandrake Leonne?” Dillon asked.

“I don't know,” Jude said.

“I'm in no mood to play games, Red.”

“I just got done playing a game.  It was pretty fun.”

“This is your last warning.”

“I don't know,” she said, looking directly into Dillon's eyes.

“Then why should I leave you alive?”

“Because I do know where the clue is that will lead us to it.  The pilot didn't know where it was either, but he knew how to find it.  It was a specific distance from a spot inside this town.  An ancient statue is supposed to be facing the direction of your treasure.”

“So you know the distance, but you don't know the direction.”

“That's right.”

“What if this statue is destroyed?”

“Then we're geffared.”

Dillon thought a moment, then asked, “You come here with that snob?”

“Yes.”

“So why aren't you piking with him?”

“Because I know what his goons are going to do to me the moment I show them where it is.  Asset management likes to liquidate their assets rather than risk someone talking.”

“What makes you think I'll treat you any better?”

“Because when I'm stabbed in the back, I want it to be by someone whose moves I can better predict.”

“You did a great job of predicting me before.”

“That won't happen again,” she assured him.

“So where is this statue?” he asked.

“When we were flying in I saw a courtyard that looked like it had a different type of ruins in it.  They looked more… ancient.  I'd bet my plastic it's there.”

Jude pointed in the direction she was describing.  Dillon looked toward it.  Sunlight was beginning to crawl across the rubble and the street.  Somewhere out there, Nikos' goons would be searching for them.  They needed to move fast.

To be continued...

Wanted, Foul, and Worthy - Part 5

Part 5

En Route

There were approximately half a dozen prisoners in all on the detainment transport ship.  They were all heading toward bounty sales where they’d be purchased by whatever corporation wanted them the most for their prison sentence.  Those who couldn’t be sold were occasionally freed, but were usually killed.  A single laser blast to the chest was cheaper than the vengeance the prisoner sometimes brought upon the captor.

Two guards watched the prisoners from seats on a slightly raised platform while the pilots sat just beyond a locked door.  Dillon noticed that one of the guards fidgeted, seeming to be searching for an excuse to walk among the prisoners.  He decided to give him one.  “When do we get to pee?” he asked.  Though the one guard twitched, neither responded.  “Hey, when do we get to pee?” Dillon reacted.  When there was still no response, he went into child mode.  “I had a lot to drink and I really got to go and it’s really uncomfortable and I don’t want to soil the bench, you know this is really uncomfortable and it’s gonna smell a lot and come to figure it I might poo ‘cause I had a big burger and…”

“Shut your yapper!”  The order came not from the guard, but from one of the prisoners, the one next to him.

“But I gotta pee,” Dillon said pathetically.

“Then hold it in,” the prisoner retorted.

Dillon built upon the mentally deficient character he had established.  “I won’t be able to ‘cause I can’t put my hands behind so the pee will slip onto the bench and flow over to you and…”

The other prisoner smacked him with his bound hands.  They were all wearing magnacuffs on their wrists and ankles, so the iron bindings left a mark on Dillon’s face.  Dillon cried out like he was hurt, but took note of the fact that the one guard had been on his way toward him when the prisoner took care of the problem.

Dillon looked at the guard, who was now sitting down and cried out, “He hit me!  That’s out of perif, he hit me!  Aren’t you gonna do something about this?  Where’s the justice?”

As the others laughed at him, Dillon used his cybernetic eye to scan the guard.  He found a holdout blaster ticked in a back pouch in addition to his standard sidearm.  He locked onto that, then looked at the other guard.  “Aren’t you going to do anything about this?  This isn’t right!”  The other guard laughed, and Dillon locked onto his faceplate, the weakest point.  “I can’t believe it!  There’s no just…”

The other prisoner hit him again.  Then the one on the other side hit him in the back.  They didn’t have much maneuverability, but they used what little they had to make it hurt.  The guards sat back and watched.

“Guess I can’t expect any justice.  Not from a pretty little princess like you,” Dillon said.  Now the prisoners were laughing, and the fidgety guard reacted.  “After all, you wouldn’t want to get your sister’s armor scuffed up.”  Now the other guard started laughing.  Everyone was laughing at the one guard, who now stood and started toward Dillon.  “Careful mosing off that platform.  Your high heels might break.”  Everyone now roared with laughter.

The guard reached Dillon, and stared at him a moment.  There was no need to rush.  The prisoner wasn't going anywhere.  The other guard leaned back in his chair, looking forward to watching the mouthy one get a beating.  The standing guard raised his rifle with the butt facing the prisoner.  Dillon folded over in his seat, presenting his back to the beating.  Just as the guard swung down, a beeping noise sounded from near the prisoner's ankles.

It was the sound of the magnacuffs releasing both his hands and feet.  Dillon lurched forward, dodging under the blow and hugging the guard.  Before anyone knew what was going on, Dillon had the holdout pistol in his hand.  It snapped in the direction he had recorded in his cybernetic eye and he fired.  The shot went directly through the facemask of the sitting guard.  The standing guard broke free so he could fire his weapon, but Dillon fired into a weak spot on his armor, taking him down.

The other prisoners were now on Dillon's side, asking him to free them.  He ignored them and started for the cockpit.  He could hear gas shooting into the chamber.  The pilots were aware of what they were doing.

Dillon stepped atop the platform and approached the door to the cockpit.  He studied it only a moment before raising his wrist to the control.  There was no reason to check the door; he knew it was locked.  It was time to use his second, and only remaining, EMP.  The first had released the magnacuffs, so if this didn't work, he would be stuck falling unconscious with the lowlifes.

The control panel flashed a moment, then fizzled, and the door came loose.  Dillon pressed up against the wall, then shoved open the door.  Laser blasts shot out from the pilots.  Without looking inside, Dillon whipped his hand around the corner, firing at the console.  He knew that doing so would distract the pilots and cause them to look forward.  When the firing stopped briefly, he leaned in and shot them both down.

The other prisoners were still calling out for Dillon to free them.  He stepped inside the cockpit and sealed the door behind him.  Shoving the bodies out of the way, he sat at the controls and looked them over.  He found where the gas controller was and saw that a neurotoxin intended to knock out the prisoners or anyone else they didn't want in the hull of the ship.  'This is too light,' Dillon mumbled, and he turned up the toxicity to a lethal dosage.

He then turned to the maps and searched for anything resembling Ocsasm, the word that the doomed pilot had muttered when Dillon found him during the battle.  He found Ocasol, a close enough likeness, and one that the corporations were fighting over.  It was likely enough that someone who worked for one of those businesses had heard about a treasure on one of these planets.  So he laid in the coordinates and the prison ship was on its way.

*          *          *

Jude was riding in style on Nikos' ship the Golden Stallion... or whatever name he had switched it to now, shedidn't want to keep track.  She was stretched out in his lounge watching the swirling shades of black through the transparent portion of the floor.  Two mercswere on the other side of the room watching a holoshow.  Patchcon had sent them, and three others, as an escort to both aid Nikos and make sure he brought back a share of the profit to the home office.

Nikos entered and strode across the clear part of the floor, purposely making himself appear to walk over open space.  “Have you found every amenity your heart could desire?” he asked.

“Do you have a hair stain station?” she asked.

“I must admit that that is a luxury item I do not yet possess,” he answered.

“Too bad,” she said, running her hand through the long strands of her hair; first red near the roots, then brown, then back to red at the tips.

“Do you prefer to switch it for every planet?” he asked, slipping into the bar section of the lounge.

“This shade brought me bad luck.”

“You don't strike me as a woman who relies much on luck.”

“Oh, I believe in luck,” she said.“All of life is playing the odds.  You just want to weigh the dice on your side before you roll them.”

Nikos smiled as he filled the dinks inside the leavening condensers. He didn't ask her what she wanted.  Jude's attention was focused on one of the animal heads Nikos had hanging on his wall.

“I regret that we cannot repair your enhancements,” Nikos said, as he brought the drinks over to her.  As he walked, he made a subtle motion to the two mercs to leave.“But something tells me that your share of the treasure you're leading us to will be more than enough to buy some of the most powerful cybernetics you've ever had.”  He sat close and she took the drink.

“Leastways the Devil Jackson was able to stop the spasms,” she said, and then chugged half the drink.  Nikos stalled, then tried to match her speed, but had to stop at little more than a sip.  Jude pretended not to notice and crossed her legs on the sofa, one of the legs folding over his knees flirtatiously.

He then said, “Something sways me you can do well enough without the enhancements.”

“I can rec by,” she replied.

Nikos rested one hand on the knee folded over his leg and asked, “How did you get so good at what you do?”

Jude paused a moment.  Nikos could feel her muscles tighten.  He had hit a nerve; something that was difficult to do with Jude.  Then she answered, “I trained with the Irreto Organization.”

Nikos' eyes jumped wide.  Surprising him was not an easy task either.  “That doesn't figure like the sort of organization you would belong to.  Weren't they strict?”

Jude shrugged.  “I surm like any military organization.”

“The Irretowere not just any military organization.  They didn't even hail to any one entity.  Their students were some of the most ruthless and disciplined...” Nikos looked at Jude and recognized the tension in her face.  Her glass was empty.  He handed her his and asked her what it was like.

Jude downed what was in the glass and said, “They gave you a poozoo when you entered.”

“I heard.  Your animal companion that you train throughout your schooling.  Is it true they made you kill it when you graduated?”

Jude bobbed her head a little, and Nikos noticed a slight smile.  He took her glasses and asked her to explain.

“I named her Maxine.  Mad Maxine.  They didn't tell us what we were going to do to them at the end... But I had a suspicion.  Still, I trained her every day.  They gave us tricks we were supposed to teach them; exercises both to help us remember what we'd aprended, and so they could play the antagonists to our training sessions.  The others, they would teach their poozoos their tricks, then play with them a touch of time.  It was their only link to humanity.  All the rest of the while we were too busy, and the trainees were mocked if they had fun with each other.  We were still kids, and we had an instinct to play, so they spent what little free time they had rolling around with their poozoos.  Not me.  I finished the lessons we were taught to train, then we worked on more lessons.  Maxine whimpered and begged for free time, but I wouldn't let her.  I snapped my fingers and demanded more lessons.  She aprended, despite herself.  She looked at the other poozoos with envy, wishing she had time to play like they did.  But she was not allowed.  When the butchering time came, you could vis more tears from the other students than during all their whippings in the three years we were there.  They had raised them from the time they were one year old, and now we had to be their killers.  Students who refused were flogged, then made to watch as their poozoos were tortured and killed.  Then the student was marked with a tattoo that said dropout across their foreheads, and they were regressed to their families in shame.  The rest... most of them anyway, gave their pets a swift death.  You could see their hearts die through the look in their eyes.”

“Most of them?” Nikos asked.

“There were a few... sadistic ones that had been anxiously awaiting that day.  Those poozoos suffered.  Those students were promoted to teachers.”

“I need another drink,” Nikos said, standing and walking to the bar.  “So what did you do?”

Jude's eyes remained inert, as though she was watching herself all over again.  “I arrived at the headmasters' on the day of my graduation.  We were supposed to have the collars of our poozoos with us to prove we had passed our final exam.”

“I give that you had done it quickly,” Nikos said as he filled the glasses.

“No,” Jude said.  Nikos froze, staring at her.  “I arrived at the headmasters' with Maxine in tow.”

“I'm abso that went over well,” Nikos said.

“They were shocked.  The others had tried to smuggle their pets out, or tried to free them.  I took mine with me at the end of a leash.  They asked me why I had brought it.  One of them gave me the benefit of the doubt and surmed that I would be killing it in front of them to show how tough I had become.  After all, I had my sgian-dubh knives with me sheathed across my arms.  I silenced him by saying that was not true.  The lead headmaster then asked why I had brought it, and I explained that I had found a better use for the animal.  She was not amused, and she told me I was expelled, and would be branded.  Two of the four guards in the room approached me... You're spilling the drinks.”

Nikos was holding the glasses, and his shaking was causing the liquids to fall out the sides.  “Sorry,” he said, and he put them down.  “I don't scry a brand across your face.  So what passed.”

“Training,” she said.  “Poozoos have some of the strongest back legs in the galaxy when they're allowed to develop correctly.  They can spring across a fifty foot cliff in just over one second if allowed.  I allowed her to go at the lead headmaster.  She ripped her head off in just over two seconds.  As for the guards going after me... Did you know that Azami armor has a weak spot in its nose plating?  A small dagger flung at high velocity from a low angle can puncture the armor and send the cartilage directly into the brain.  The other two guards took a touch bit more work, but the organization had trained me well.  And I had trained Mad Maxine well, too.”  A smile of pride grew across Jude's face as she remembered.  She described the sight, of one headmaster after another trying to defend itself, and Maxine shooting through them like a bullet with teeth, tearing off limbs and throwing body parts into more of them before disemboweling them.

“She did everything I trained her to do,” Jude said.  “But some of the headmasters were armed.  This didn't make much of a difference at first as there were more headmasters than poozoo, and they didn't want to shoot each other.  But when it came to only a few remaining, they were able to fire at her without fear of hitting one another.  They wounded her, and the last one took her down.  I removed that man's eyes before making him taste every inch of death.”

Nikos had downed both drinks now, and filled the glasses again.  “So that's why the school closed.”

“Oh no,” Jude said, a half-crazed smile now across her face.  “No, they could have replaced the headmasters and continued.  But as I held the lifeless body of my beloved Maxine in my arms, I realized how many others must have cogeted this practice.  The other teachers, the president, the owners of the school.  This graduation requirement was no secret.  I hunted them all down; one by one.  I used every lesson they had taught me against them; the most important one being never let them know you're coming.  That's why I did it all in one day, before anyone could aprend what had happened in the convocation hall.  When I was done, I could not re-enter regular society, which is why I joined Unterorg... You gonna let me drink one of those?”

Nikos had downed a glass and a half again.  “Sorry.  I'll get you another one.”  He rapidly placed the glasses back into the leavening condenser.

To be continued...

Wanted, Foul, and Worthy - Part 4

Part 4

Old Wounds and New Ones

What few medical facilities were still standing were overflowing.  Each military had its own triage, but soldiers who could not make it to them found their way to civilian sites, and the people of the city who were caught in the crossfire were going to them as well.

Dillon was already familiar with much of the town of Wallach.  He had been on the planet several times for various reasons.  That made it easier for him to make his way to the unwanted outskirts where there wasn’t much for armies to fight over.  The land in this region was rocky and uneven; unfriendly to armored vehicles.  Most importantly, it was home to the one place he wanted least to go.

He had wrangled up an abandoned car, leaving Jude alone for an uncomfortable amount of time.  Finding her still lying on the side of the road unconscious had been a relief and a huge stroke of luck.  Now she lay in the backseat while he hurried to the neighborhood he knew would still be standing and ignored by both sides for its lack of tactical importance.

The building he was seeking was plain, unobtrusive, and somehow less impressive than the buildings surrounding it in this modest little neighborhood.  As he approached, he could hear the sounds and sniff the smells that revealed that others had discovered it.  Rounding the corner he spotted many more vehicles crowded around the building like a swarm of bees.  Those who knew this place were bringing their spill-over wounded.

It was not a hospital.  The people who worked here had the barest of training in any kind of medical treatment.  It was, however, a shelter, and they had beds and first aid equipment; something of which they would clearly be running low considering the number of people flocking to the place.

He took a moment after stopping to really consider whether there was anywhere else he could go.  But realizing this was the best, and really only option, he got out of the car and locked it.  Of course Jude could unlock it if she decided to leave, but he hoped the time it took her to figure that out in her current state would buy him the time he needed.  He mostly hoped she just didn’t die before telling him what he wanted to know.

Inside, the chaos was what he expected.  Dodging slowly drifting, aimless patients and zipping crosswinds of recently commissioned doctors reminded Dillon of flying through an asteroid field; only this time he was searching for one specific asteroid he didn’t really want to locate, but had to.

Then, there he was; giving orders to other staff members; a manager with responsibilities, his brother Jos.  Dillon sucked in his pride and thought over what he was going to say.  Before he was ready, his brother spotted him.  He did not smile, but he also did not cringe.  His face wore an expression of disappointment, but it was always sour in some way.  Dillon grinned at him and approached.  “I’m back,” he said.

“So I see.  Again.”

“Uh… Looks like you have a full house.”

“We serve those in need.  This is the need.”A distant boom was followed by a rattling of the walls and a fearful yelp of the crowd.  Jos did not flinch, but kept his eyes on his brother.

“Yeah,” Dillon began, “Well I’m in need, too.”

“I gather.  And not just because of the battle.”

Dillon shifted uncomfortably, then said, “I found a young lady in the street who needed help.  She’s unconscious.  I have her in the car…”

“Many people here have been affected by the battle.  We will help all who come to us based on need…” Jos began to push past Dillon to get back to work.

“You must be running low on medical supplies,” Dillon said.

Jos paused.  “No doubt you bring supplies with you that you obtained from a dubious source.”

“Why would you register that?” Dillon asked offended.

Jos turned to Dillon with an annoyed expression.

“The doctor who had them was dead.  I give you my word.”

“Your word?”

“I know it doesn’t hold much dime anymore, but it’s the truth!  And I need you to see to this girl quickly.”

“What house of ill-repute did you find her in?  I may know her,” Jos said.  Dillon looked at him surprised.  Jos explained, “They come to us after abuse, or sometimes to get checked privately.”

“Oh.  She’s from off-world.  Sorts an old friend.”

“All your old friends are criminals.”

“Do you distinguish who you help based on their backgrounds?”

“Sometimes based on the company they keep,” Jos said, again eyeing his brother suspiciously.

Another boom in the distance made Dillon a little nervous, so he said, “Look, you want the supplies?  Give my friend a place to stay and stabilize her.”

“Show me to these supplies.”

Dillon and Jos stood outside the car looking in.  “See?  I'd best raise you could really use whatever equipment is in those boxes.”

Jos saw the boxes of medical supplies, and he also saw a few finely crafted artifacts made of precious metals.  He didn’t want to know about those, and instead asked, “What happened to her?”

“The woman?  Yeah, she got a mighty bit beaten up.  So I give you the equipment, you give her a place to stay, right?”

Jos stared down his brother, gathering information from his countenance.  His expression said that he knew Dillon had had something to do with her current condition, but he wasn’t going to press any further.  “We’ll treat her wounds, yes.”  He spoke into a communicator on his wrist, requesting a suspension gurney outside while Dillon jumped for joy.

*          *          *

Late at night, when the fighting had at last moved on to other frontiers; the halls slowed to a hushed repose shadowed by the echoing wails of the wounded fading to sleep, and the duteous forms crossing the corridors to their infirmary chambers.  There, Dillon haunted the passageways like a pacing ghost awaiting his fate.  Jos found him wandering like a sleepwalker deep in thought of nothing.“Mother missed you,” Jos said.

“I somehow doubt that,” Dillon said.  “How is she?”

“Passed on.  Two years now.”

“I’m sorry.  Chances that was hard for Dad.”

“He passed on five years ago.  One year before our sister.”

“Cassandra,” Dillon said horrified.

“I’m surprised you remember her name,” Jos said.

“Those must be local years…”

“Earth standard.”

“How could it possibly have been so long?”

“You tell me, Dillon.  Where have you been?”

“Nowhere that would have made them proud.”

“How did you sav I was here?” Jos asked.

“I’ve been here on and off a few times on jobs the last couple years.  I… thought about coming by.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’s the work I do, all right?  When I worked at Salcom they transferred me to the corporate spy division.  I was good at it; better than anyone they had.  So they sent me undercover sometimes and I worked my way up.  I couldn’t tell anyone what I was doing.”

“So they had you spying on me?”

“No!  I got picked up by another org.  We pulled jobs for whoever paid the best.”

“Sounds on the level…”

“It paid well.  How much do you make in a year in this place…”

“Choose your words carefully, brother.  Your friend is in the care of our unwealthy hands.”

“She was one of them,” Dillon said.  “We pulled jobs together until… one day they magged that we wouldn’t anymore.  And I got kicked into a tower prison.”

“And you’re out now.”

“Yes, thanks to a prison riot I’m out.  And pulling whatever bounties I can get while avoiding getting one pulled on me.”

“The galaxy is finite,” Jos said.  “You can run out of places to hide.”

“Don’t you think I credit that better than you?”

“Then stop running,” Jos urged.  “Find your corner and make a home.”

“Like you did?”

“It’s comfortable.  And I didn’t have to leave behind my family.”

“I’m sorry about Cassandra.”

“She asked for you.  It had been an accident that put her in a coma, but she recovered one time long enough to ask for you.”

“She was probably delirious,” Dillon said.

“She didn’t ask for me,” Jos finished.

Dillon was quiet for a moment, then said, “That ungrateful dirty malfas...”

Jos slapped him.  Dillon reacted with a fist, but didn’t punch back.  He cooled himself down and asked, “How is my friend doing?”

“Partially due to the medicine you brought in, she will recover.  But she needs rest.”

“Not too much,” Dillon said.  “We need to thruster out soon.”

“Moving on… again,” Jos said.

Dillon got the judgment and stopped himself from reacting.  Instead he said, “It’s good to see you again, Jos,” and he walked away.

*          *          *

Jude half woke into a drowsy delirium as the sky was beginning to lighten.  It was not the light that had roused her, the windows were not large, but chaotic noise of people, vehicles, and tools.  Her ears adjusted to the sounds, and she dozed off to sleep.  The noises got louder, this time mixed in with people of the shelter scurrying about, and Jude faded into consciousness, then faded out again.  The next noises that woke her came from inside the building.  Rushing feet and barked orders reverberated through the corridors.  Anxiety and fear was palpable, even to the half-conscious Jude.

Under normal conditions, she would be out of bed with adrenaline pumping into her cybernetics ready for action.  But today she had no such energy.  She was like one paralyzed, unable to get commands to her limbs to move.  The numb warmth of her body sank into the cushioned mattress, and she fell into the dark embrace of sleep again.

By the time she emerged from slumber once and for all, the tumult had died down.  But something seemed off.  Though primarily unconscious throughout the night, Jude had sensed her surroundings as though through a distant tunnel.  There was something different in the background noise, as though someone had changed the channel on their Teleholo.

Jude peeked through thin eyelids to see if anyone was inside her room.  It was small, barely large enough for the four other beds.  All were full, two of them with two patients in each.  Jude quickly checked her own bed to make sure no one else was in it.  She was alone.

One of the people in a paired up bed saw her looking, and said, “You just cost me five electros.”

“What?” Jude asked with a raspy voice.

“We’d made bets.  He registered you was in a coma.  She regisoned you were dead.”

“What did you register?” Jude asked.

“I wagered you were alive, but would die.  I surm I could still win that bet.”

“You stay away from me,” Jude said as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

“We got taken over by thePatchcon Army,” he told her.  “They’re the ones you should be afeared of.  If they mag they want your bed, they might just win my bet for me.”

“Or chances be they’ll take your bed,” she said.

“Easier to kill one than two,” he answered.  “And I don’t plan on telling them my bunkmate is already dead.”  Jude glanced over to see that indeed, the other person lying in the bed of the man talking to her was lying motionless.  There had been a lot of those through the night, and now the army had brought their troubles here.

Jude peeked out the door.  She was confused to see a plain-looking corridor rather than a sanitized décor of a hospital, and wondered where Dillon had taken her.  Then she wondered if it had been Dillon at all.  She had drifted in and out of consciousness and had pretended to be out the whole time, but she had to admit that she could have easily been delusional for much of it.  The hall was populated by soldiers standing guard and plain-clothed orderlies attending to the rooms.  They were dressed like monks or cultists, Jude couldn’t quite tell.

Jude closed the door, took note of the windows, and muttered, “I need to get out of here.”

“That’ll be fun for you,” the man said.  “Patchcon has made this into a combo medical and prison center.  Everyone here is the property of their interests until appraised and disseminated.”

“And who does that?” Jude asked.

*          *          *

Nikos Kazakissat back in the office that had been granted to him by the base manager; another connection that owed him some favors.  Nikos made a point of finding people with ambition.  He would then help achieve their goals so they would pay him back with larger dividends.

Nikos kicked one of his feet up on the desk and stretched back in his chair as if to emphasize the luxury of his position while he waited for his first guest to be brought before him.  Someone here must know about the Mandrake Leonne, or at least the deserter who had run away with the information, and he was determined to find them.  This first individual had been driving a car that had items from the deserter’s ship.  Not a lot to go on, to be sure, but it was a definite start.

The door opened and Dillon appeared along with two guards who ushered him inside.  “Mr.Dillon MacavarLocke Davis,” came the voice of a man at the table inside.“You were a wunderkind on Rilar, expected to do great things with your inventions you imaged when you were ten.  Even got picked up by Salcom Corp where you developed spy equipment.  That is, until you turned that equipment on Salcom itself and just about got executed.  Then Unterorg took you on and used your talent until they got rubbed.  You did odd jobs with some of your co-workers until they abandoned you and left you to rot in prison.  Until you crafted a prison riot.  And now here you are in front of me.”

“And you must be Mr. Exposition,” Dillon responded, eyeing the room and noticing the table full of food laid out on one side of the room.

Responding to Dillon’s curiosity about the food, Nikos said, “Good information never reveals itself on an empty stomach.  Have a seat.  I hope you likecaratos.”

Dillon approached the table suspiciously, but eager for a solid meal.  Serene, echo-classical music waved into the room from omni-wall speakers that made it feel like the sounds were part of the air itself.  Dillon glanced around with surprise.

“I insist on the installation of the best sound systems wherever I work,” Nikos said.“It sooths the soul for more efficient results.”

“I surm if feeling a chill down your spine and every other part of your body is your jist of relaxation.”  His eyes rested on the food again.

Nikos noticed, so he reached forward with his fork and stabbed into some of the caratos on Nikos’s plate, then ate them to prove they weren’t poisoned.

Only half convinced, Dillon gingerly pulled out the chair, studying it for traps before carefully sitting on it.  He had noticed that his own cybernetics had been disabled; perhaps something in the vibro-music that messed with the electronics.  He didn’t rely on them as much as Jude did, but he was still at a distinct disadvantage without them.  But Nikos hadn’t killed him yet, so he decided to go along with it, and he began to eat.

“You and your friend are not here as part of this battle,” Nikos observed, not looking up from his food.  “You’re not in the army and you’re certainly not part of a ship crew.  My best raise is you have no skin in this war.  Yet here you are.  So I’m ever so curious to know why you were found with equipment from one of the Patchcon shuttles.”

“Can’t a guy have souvenirs to remember home by?” Dillon said, also focusing on his food.

Nikos’ demeanor dropped.  Appearing defeated, he dropped his fork on his plate and stood disappointedly.  Dillon eyed the man across from him as he turned and strolled away from the table.  That seemed too easy.

It was.  Two large men grabbed Dillon’s arms from behind, and a third tossed a mask over his face.  The mask sucked the air out of his mouth and nose, emptying his lungs.  He could feel the shriveling within his body.  The pain was excruciating.  Then the most horrifying part of all; the mask pumped just enough air back in to keep him alive… and conscious; so the pain could continue indefinitely.

His wide eyes revealed the horror.  Nikos turned so he could see them.  There was an uncivilized part of him that he hated to admit actually enjoyed this part.  He said, “These gentlemen will be removing the mask shortly, and when they do, you will either answer this question, or you will wear that for a full local day, which on this world is nearly 40 hours, before I give you a chance to answer again.  So are you ready to cooperate?”

Dillon could read the sadism on Nikos’ face.  He’d seen it before.  The calm ones were always the most dangerous.  He nodded.

“Good.  I want to know what you aprended on that shuttle,” Nikos said.

The mask was removed.  No sooner had it left Dillon’s lips than he told Nikos everything, which wasn’t much.  He described the ship, the pilot, where it had crashed and what faction it had belonged to.  He also told him about the Mandrake Leonne.  “I could have waited for him to tell me where it was, but the man needed medical attention.  So I ran for some, but when I regressed, he was dead.”

“So where is it?” Nikos asked.

“That’s what I’m telling you.  He died before he could tell me.”

Nikos sighed with annoyance, then nodded to his men.  They started to put the bag over Dillon’s head again.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Dillon shouted.  “Red!  She knows.  The girl I was with.  That pilot told her.”

“The lady’s name is Jude,” Nikos said impatiently.

“Yeah, Jude!” Dillon spat.  “You know her?”

“We used to be colleagues.”

“Great.  Then bring her in here.  Use that thing on her and get her to tell you.”

Nikos strode up to Dillon, his eyes leveled on his.  He clenched his fist and a metallic bar shot out from his ring across his knuckles, then he punched Dillon across the face.  “Don’t ever tell me what to do with my guests,” he said.  Dillon focused on some blood on the floor that had knocked out of his mouth.  This meeting had taken several turns he had not expected, so he thought silence was now the better part of valor.

Nikos waved the guards to take him out, and as they neared the door, Dillon decided that there was one thing for which it was worth pressing his luck just a little more.  “Hey, what about the meal?”

A tense silence followed.  Faced away from his captor, Dillon could not see Nikos’ expression.  Then he heard, “See that he ports double the meal we provided.”

Smiling as he was removed from the room, Dillon called out, “Thank you!”

*          *          *

When Jude was led in a half hour later, an employee was wiping the blood off the floor.  She focused on it rather than Nikos, and said, “He dead?”

“Not yet,” Nikos said.  “My benevolence is my tight rope to future misfortunes, I’m afraid.  What would you have me do with him?”

“I’m more concerned with what you’re going to do with me.”

A tense silence followed.  The last time they had had any contact, Jude had stolen trade secrets from Nikos and gotten him on the wanted list with a major corporate barony.  She was solely responsible for him going from a position to authority to one of a vagabond.

“You are to be my traveling companion,” Nikos said as he offered her a place to sit further away from the blood stain.  A porter was bringing a couple plates of food.  “We’ll be riding the cosmos together once again.”

Nikos sat, and Jude remained standing, staring at him through strands of hair that drooped in front of her face.  Nikos looked to his porter and asked, “Why does no one trust our food?”

“Let's cut through the clutter,” she said.  “You want me dead.”

“Nonsense,” Nikos said.  “Okay, perhaps a little.  But I've never placed vengeance over profit.”

“And how do you credit I can be profitable to you?”

“Let's not play coy.  You know the whereabouts of the Mandrake Leonne.  I need you to show me where it is.  You need me to not kill you.”

Jude saw the logic in him keeping her alive well enough to take a seat.  She stared at him a moment before picking up a fork.  She then reached across and stabbed into one of his caratos, pulling it to her mouth and eating it.  Nikos switched the plates so she could eat from his, and she began eating more vigorously.  This was certainly better than what they were serving at the infirmary.

“If I go with you,”she finally said,“I choose the music.”

“But you enjoy vibra-notes.”

“You really need to aprend the difference between vibra-jazz and omni-classical,” Jude said.

“I’m certain you’ll teach me.”

Jude nodded her head at the wiped up blood stain.  “What about him?”

“There are a few places where he’s wanted.  He’ll go up for auction among them.  Is that a problem?”

Jude bobbed her head.  “Not at all.  It’s about time for a road trip.”

To be continued...