by Ben Wolf
To their credit, the others hadn’t uttered a word since entering the house. Even Lora, who never kept quiet for long, had managed to stay silent.
But that all changed when an orb of orange plasma zipped into the lobby and shattered a vase near Captain Marlowe’s head.
13
Every one of the rig-runners yelled and either dropped to the floor or darted around, desperate to find cover.
By contrast, Captain Marlowe and Arlie crouched down, found cover, and raised their pulse rifles, ready to return fire.
Justin’s response landed somewhere in the middle. He shouted an obscenity, crouched low, and raised his weapon, but he stayed out in the open like an idiot.
The error only lasted for a couple of seconds, and he promptly dove toward Captain Marlowe’s position and slid across a section of the marble floor. Another plasma blast tore into the wall where he’d just been standing.
“It’s me!” Justin scrambled to his feet in one of the doorframes under the stairs next to Captain Marlowe. “It’s Justin! Don’t shoot!”
“Justin?” a familiar female voice called. “As in the stalker?”
Despite barely avoiding being eviscerated by a plasma blast a few seconds earlier, Justin had to chuckle. “Yes! We had breakfast at the all-android restaurant. You told me about your dozens of PhDs and decided not to leave a tip because they’re just machines.”
“Bryant, stop shooting,” Hallie said from somewhere in the darker parts of the house.
“What if this is a trap?” a man’s deep voice asked from around the same spot.
“Then we’ve sprung it, and we’re going to die horrible deaths at the hands of these monstrous people.” Hallie added, “Trust me. We’re safe.”
She got only silence in response.
“Justin, I’m coming out,” she called. “Don’t shoot me, or you can kiss your chances at a second date goodbye.”
Heat hit Justin’s cheeks, though he supposed that bit of info was going to come out sooner than later. Might as well be now.
Hallie stepped into view with her hands up and empty. The sunlight streaming in through the windows backlit her, crowning her blonde hair with a golden glow. Even though Justin couldn’t really see her face, her silhouette was delectable all the same.
She stepped forward, and a new bit of light caught her face. Definitely Hallie… and she was smiling, too.
“What’s a girl gotta do to get permission to put her hands down?” she asked.
“Sorry,” Justin said as he stepped forward, still holding his rifle. “You’re good.”
When he reached her, she held out her hand, palm facing him, stopping him short. “Didn’t give you permission to touch me yet, stalker.”
Justin smirked. “My bad.”
“No, your ‘bad’ was breaking into my house. Well, my rented house, anyway.” Her smile turned into a frown. “So, stalker, what the hell are you doing here?”
“ACM invaded the ship. They’ve got an army, and they’re searching the city.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” the male voice said from the darkness beyond. Then a tall, younger guy walked into the lobby as well. He was the guy who’d scowled at Justin from the front door when he’d dropped Hallie off there.
Bryant.
He still held a plasma repeater in his hand, but it remained at his side, harmless. Nothing else about him looked harmless, though.
He stood probably about six-foot-four or -five, broad in his shoulders yet lean in his midsection, and built like a premier athlete—the kind of guy who could move fast and make you hurt if you were off your game.
Except Bryant was clearly a soldier. He wore the same burgundy Coalition uniform that Officer Wendell and Captain James had worn, only his fit more snugly over his robust arm and chest muscles. He hadn’t been wearing it when Justin saw him the first time.
The look in his hard eyes reminded Justin of Dirk Hammer from back at ACM-1134, but thus far, he’d proven far less talkative and coarse. Maybe he wasn’t as huge a dick as Dirk had been, but it was too early to gauge his personality.
Justin could tell one thing for sure, though—from the way Bryant looked at him that morning when he’d dropped off Hallie, and from the way he was glowering at Justin now, he saw himself as her protector. He might’ve even had a thing for her.
“We need a place to hide for awhile,” Captain Marlowe said, casually holding his rifle. “And we were hoping for some medical help for one of my rig-runners. We had a doctor on our crew, but a stray pulse round from ACM took him out.”
“You got a name?” Bryant’s attention shifted to Captain Marlowe.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I’d like to know who I’m talking to,” Bryant said.
“Feeling’s mutual, kid.”
“Sure.” Bryant’s stern expression didn’t change. “Lieutenant Bryant Sokolov, Inter-Planetary Marines.”
“In your dress maroons?” Captain Marlowe asked. “They didn’t send you with tactical gear?”
Justin wondered at Captain Marlowe’s question and at Bryant’s attire. When the IPMs had shown up back at ACM-1134, they were all wearing black tactical armor.
By contrast, the IPMs he’d seen at the Ketarus-4 spacestation were wearing blue camouflage fatigues, closer in color to what the ACM troops in the docking bay had been wearing. Then again, the rocky terrain of Ketarus-4 was blue, so perhaps the IPMs had worn those fatigues to match the planet.
“We’re not on a combat mission,” Bryant explained. “We weren’t expecting to—”
“Less is more, Bryant,” Hallie interjected. She nodded toward Justin and the rest of the Viridian’s crew “I’m sure you’re all very nice people, but we really can’t say anything else.”
To his credit, Bryant didn’t resist her instruction. He continued staring at Captain Marlowe. “Still didn’t get your name.”
“Enix Marlowe, captain of the Viridian. She’s the other ship that was in the docking bay when you arrived.”
Bryant nodded slowly. “And now you can’t leave because ACM has you trapped here, just like us.”
“Exactly.” Captain Marlowe nodded toward Arlie. “This is Arlie Bush, my first officer.”
She and Bryant exchanged curt nods.
“Ex-military?” Bryant asked.
“Ex-Coalition Forces, and some private work,” Captain Marlowe replied.
Justin noted that he hadn’t mentioned doing merc work for ACM in the past. Probably a wise decision, given the lingering tension in the room.
“Enlisted, not an officer, like you,” Captain Marlowe continued. “Decided I was done with that life and promoted myself to captain of my own ship.”
“If only it were that easy in the Corps,” Bryant said.
“I’m sure we could exchange war anecdotes all day, but you said you have someone who is wounded?” Hallie said. “We don’t have much by way of medical supplies, but one of our team, Angela, is an MD. I can ask her to take a look.”
“Send ’er my way,” Al said from the back of the rig-runners. Lora and Shaneesha helped him hobble forward. “Leg’s pretty jacked up. Could use some TLC, for sure. Some strong drugs wouldn’t hurt, neither.”
Hallie grinned. “I’ll fetch Angela. In the meantime—” She eyed Justin. “—I need you to explain to Bryant how you bypassed the house’s security system.”
“You mean your bronze fence and a locked door?” Justin eyed Hallie right back. “Not exactly something I’d need a PhD to figure out.”
“Oh, stalker-boy, she’s equipped with far more than that.” Hallie grinned at him.
[She ain’t lyin’,] Keontae said. [Found some pretty nice stuff in the system, but I shut it all down before we made our approach. Didn’t want anyone gettin’ fried on the way to the front door.]
“In any case, this house is as fortified a position as we can muster, so we need the security system back online in case ACM tries to get in here,” Bryant said. “Can you help or not?�
�
Justin wanted to ask them about whatever it was ACM was looking for, but he figured that could wait until the rig-runners had dispersed and Al was getting treatment. No need for everyone to be involved in that conversation.
For the time being, Bryant had a point. ACM would eventually come knocking, and ensuring they couldn’t get in, or at least that they’d have a hard time getting in, was in everyone’s best interest.
“Yeah. I can help,” Justin replied.
As Hallie escorted Al and the other rig-runners into an adjacent room, Bryant holstered his repeater and gestured Justin over. Captain Marlowe and Arlie came with, too.
“Main screen’s this way.” He motioned with his head toward one of the doorways under the staircase, and they all followed him.
The doorway led to a staircase that descended into the house’s basement. The space was unfinished, with scrap panels of carpet forming a trail over a hard cement floor. Exposed wires, conduits, and pipes ran along the ceiling and disappeared up into it at various points.
Justin scanned the space for anything unusual, but nothing stood out to him. He wondered if the metal walls that framed the basement could move or if they concealed hidden rooms, but only until Bryant led him to a screen mounted to one of the walls.
“I’m locked out. And on top of that, this is far from my area of expertise,” he admitted. “Give me a ship, and I can fly it pretty damn well, but this stuff…”
“I can give it a shot.” Justin glanced at Captain Marlowe and Arlie. “Got any fun war stories you can tell while I’m working? Helps me to concentrate.”
What he really wanted was for them to distract Bryant so he wouldn’t get curious about how Justin was doing what he was going to do. Fortunately, Captain Marlowe got the message.
“You’re a baby,” he said to Bryant. “Fresh meat. Out of the academy… what? Two years ago?”
“Four, actually.” Bryant turned away from Justin and faced Captain Marlowe and Arlie. “Did two years of flight school after that.”
Justin tapped the screen and tried to shield as much of it with his body as he could. Keontae jumped into the network and set to work while Justin tapped harmlessly on the screen.
“Admiralty track?”
“That’s the theory, but it’s competitive.” Bryant folded his arms and leaned against the wall next to Justin and the screen, but he didn’t look over. “Most guys never make it past captaining their own ship.”
“Never made it past master sergeant, myself,” Captain Marlowe said. “Arlie here was a corporal when she got out. Spent the first half of my career with the Coalition, a couple of years bouncing around doing merc work, and finally gave it up to get the rig. Arlie and I pooled our life savings and bought ’er outright, so anything we make goes to us, not to some cutthroat bank.”
“Living the dream,” Arlie muttered.
“I’ll bet.” Bryant looked over at Justin. “How’s it going?”
Justin stopped tapping and looked up at him. Somehow Bryant felt even more imposing than Dirk had, even though Bryant hadn’t done anything all that threatening to Justin.
Still, if surviving ACM-1134 had proven anything to Justin, it was that he was nobody’s bitch. “It’d be better if you didn’t have to look over my shoulder while I’m working.”
Bryant’s stare persisted, and then it hardened.
Justin didn’t relent. He’d stared death itself in its wretched, malformed face. Bryant was nothing by comparison.
Finally, Bryant looked away, and Justin mocked as if he were continuing his work.
“You mentioned a mission,” Captain Marlowe said. “If it’s not a combat mission, and if Andridge is after you, then it’s something top secret, no doubt.”
Bryant shook his head. “Can’t talk about it. I already said too much upstairs.”
“But Andridge is after you,” Captain Marlowe pressed. “They took a keen interest in your ship, specifically. Damn near shredded its back half trying to get you to stop, but somehow you still made it here. Antimatter missiles, right?”
“Captain,” Bryant held out his palm, “I said I can’t talk about it, and I won’t. Please change the subject.”
Keontae buzzed back into Justin’s hand. [All good. Everything’s back online. I restored user access, too, so he can mess with it some more if he wants.]
“All done.” Justin backed away from the screen and motioned for Bryant to take a look.
Bryant peered down at the screen, but he didn’t touch it. “If you say so. Like I said, it’s not my area.”
“You’re not even gonna check to make sure everything’s up and running?” Justin asked.
Bryant shook his head. “I’m sure you put it all back the way it belongs. If you did a shitty job, we’re all dead once ACM shows up.”
[We might all be dead soon anyway,] Keontae said.
Justin wanted to ask Keontae if there were any hidden rooms tied to the network or anything else out of the ordinary, but asking aloud now would blow his cover, so he kept quiet.
They made their way out of the basement and up to the main level again. The artificial afternoon sun must’ve sunk beyond the horizon because it no longer shined golden light into the house. Instead, only a handful of small lights burned in the innermost rooms, away from the windows. They were probably trying to make ACM think no one was there.
Decent strategy, but that hadn’t stopped ACM from entering both the Persimmon and the Viridian when no one was aboard. If whatever they were searching for was important enough to massacre all those Farcoast soldiers, then they wouldn’t pass by a house just because the lights were off.
On the main floor of the house, everyone gathered in a grand living room space with plush leather couches and chairs. The room was larger than Justin’s entire house had been when he was a kid, in height, depth, and width. A fireplace flickered with digitized flames but gave off real warmth, providing some of the only light in the room.
Al sat on one of the couches with his wounded leg freshly bandaged and propped up on a fancy leather ottoman. Shaneesha sat on one side of him. Lora sat on the other, and she gave Justin a glare, as usual, but he ignored her. It was much easier now that he was around Hallie. He could just stare at her instead.
The two groups exchanged introductions, but Justin couldn’t hope to remember all of their names—he still had trouble remembering the names of the folks who worked opposite shifts from him aboard the rig.
Hallie sat across the room from Justin, along with the other scientists in her crew. There were only five of them in total, including Bryant, which seemed like a small number, but their ship was a lot smaller, too.
“So explain to us how you got stuck in this debacle,” she said.
“I got a better idea,” Lora said. “Why don’t you explain why ACM is after you, instead?”
Hallie’s pleasant expression faded. “That’s not something I can talk about.”
“Then maybe you can explain to us what you and Justin talked about on your little date this morning.”
Justin’s eyes widened, and Hallie glanced at him. All he could do was shrug.
“I’m sorry… have I done something to offend you?” Hallie asked Lora. “I mean, other than allowing you to stay in this house, away from the soldiers, and getting someone to treat your friend’s wound, that is.”
“Oh, chica.” Lora shook her head. “I got no problem with you. It’s all a problem with him.”
Her fiery gaze landed on Justin.
[Here we go again,] Keontae muttered.
“Enough, Lora,” Captain Marlowe broke in. “We already had this conversation.”
“All due respect, Captain, but you can butt out. This has got nothin’ to do with you, just like it’s got nothin’ to do with this blonde bimbo, neither.”
Hallie chuckled. “You’re a little firecracker, aren’t you?”
“That some kinda racist comment, bitch?” Lora fired back.
“Well, gunpowder was
created by the ancient Chinese, so… maybe? Are you Chinese at all?” Hallie asked. “I mean, if you want, I can try to be racist more specifically to your heritage, but I’d need to know more about your background.”
“So she’s smart and a smartass,” Lora said. “Keep talkin’. Bitches like you get cut where I’m from.”
“Okay.” Justin stood. “Clearly, the livestock is being unruly. I can stun her and put us all out of our misery.”
“What the fuck did you just call me?” Lora stood as well, but as she approached, Justin raised his robotic hand, palm out, toward her. She scoffed at him. “You don’t scare me. I’ll rip that metal arm off and beat you over your damn head with it.”
[I know you want to, JB, but don’t stun her. It’s a bad look,] Keontae warned.
“Alright, alright. Back off. Both of you.” Arlie wedged herself in between them.
“Don’t touch me, Arlie.” Lora tried to swat Arlie’s hands away, but Arlie persisted and shoved Lora back into her spot on the couch. Lora gawked up at her. “Hey! What the hell?”
“Look at me, and listen up.” Arlie leaned in close to Lora. “You may say you’re not afraid of Justin or Blondie, here, but you damn sure better be afraid of me. I got no problem thrashing you in public or in private. You keep running your mouth, and pretty soon the only thing running from it’s gonna be blood. Crystal?”
Lora’s jaw clamped shut. After a long pause, she replied through clenched teeth, “Clear.”
Without so much as another word, Arlie returned to her seat and plopped down into it.
Justin sat back down, too, and he caught Hallie’s pleased expression. She mouthed the word, “livestock?” to him and then smiled, ear to ear. He smiled too, unconcerned if Lora saw him or not.
“Despite her shitty approach,” Captain Marlowe said, “Lora raised a good question. Why is ACM after you?”
“Again, Captain,” Hallie said, “we can’t talk about that.”
