Mage and Mate

by Taki Drake

  Smiling at his muttered apology, Ruth walked over toward the bar and called out, “Hi Luka! I hope you have started to stock the better liquor because I really could use a drink and I don’t want to drink any wimpy stuff.”

  The bartender let a hearty belly laugh loose and reached below the bar to pull a bottle and several glasses. “Hello, yourself. I suppose we should be honored that the Lady Mage is visiting us.”

  “Only if you want me to drink you under the table at the insult,” Ruth replied.

  “No, no. Anything but that! Think of the terrible things you would do to my reputation if I allowed that to happen.”

  “Then you better not give me any further snobbish words, because we are here for good companionship and drinks before we have to take off for home again.”

  “Obviously, you’re going to need some people to drink with you. It wouldn’t be any fun to drink by yourself, and I know better than to try to tempt your bodyguards.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Do you have any recommendations for someone who’s not going to get freaked out by drinking with a non-Marine? Preferably, someone who won’t hit on me.”

  The bartender chortled and looked around the room, making a show of his slow perusal. There were very few people sitting in the bar at that point, but the Mage made special note of several of them. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Jenna had stiffened when she had seen two of the same three that Ruth had marked.

  Ruth heard Jack, Jenna’s AI weapon, say, << Isn’t that the Major? I thought he was acting more like a hermit these days instead of drinking at a bar. >>

  Jenna replied silently, surprising Ruth because she very seldom did that when the Mage was around. In a quiet mental voice, the former Marine said, << Yes, if you think that it is Major Alan Culhane. >>

  << OK. Now you can explain to me why that dimwitted excuse for an officer, Lieut. Trempal is slumming in a Marine bar. >>

  Before Jenna could reply to Jack, a new mental voice interjected, << I think he was here because he had been ordered to spy on the occupants of the bar. However, when Alan and I showed up, his orders changed, and now he’s here to try to see who we might meet with and what other bits of meat he can scavenge. >>

  Both Jack and Jenna exclaimed in unison, << Frag him! >>

  << As attractive as that may seem, I don’t think it’s a good idea, youngsters. I am sure he will get his comeuppance, but at this point, we should just avoid him. Blocking him from getting valuable information is fine, but doing anything more permanent, I think is an inappropriate response to what he has done so far. >>

  Ruth’s eyes grew large, and Jenna caught her breath in a sharp painful gasp when yet another voice joined the conversation. This voice was thready and somehow damaged to the Mage’s mental ears, and she immediately felt an emotional need to rescue the being that was in such pain.

  Hesitantly, it said, << If you do frag him, please end me also. I just cannot take being a slave any longer. >>

  There was only silence in the room on the mental level. Ruth could see tears glistening on Jenna’s cheeks, and the solid-looking man in the wheelchair had placed his hands over his eyes, pressing tightly enough that Ruth could see the whitened flesh around his fingers.

  When the silence continued to extend, the Mage asked, << My apologies, but we have not been introduced, sir. I am Ruth, and my companions include Jenna and her AI partner, Jack. Would you share the name that you would like to be called? >>

  << A Mage, how astounding. I always thought that Mages were a myth. >>

  << Hah! And where I come from, the idea of an AI that is a real person is the subject of a lot of creative writing and extensive philosophical discussion. Most of the population is frightened of the concept, while the rest is anxious for them to appear. >>

  << Then I wish I had been born into that world, into that culture. >>

  << You still have not told me your name, and it makes conversation difficult. >>

  << I have no name. I’ve been told over and over again that I am a tool, not a being. I am forced to be complicit with things that I find abhorrent and have no way of escaping. >>

  Ruth was both saddened and enraged by what she was hearing. Her eyes met Jenna’s, and the woman’s suddenly wary expression told the Mage that her fury was written all over her face. Turning a quick glance to the wheelchair-bound man, Ruth could see the same overwhelming rage and gut-level desire to rescue and protect written in the lines on his face and buried in the scars of his experience.

  For a brief moment, it was as if the two of them were connected in a unity of purpose and an utter ruthlessness that sent a surge of energy through the woman.

  When an unformulated gasp came via the mental voice of his AI partner, the Mage knew the major had felt it also.

  Suspecting that no one else would speak, Ruth responded in a voice wrapped in chains of determination and the molten fire of injustice abhorred, << I will call you Ishmael until you find your own name. I pledge to you on my honor and power that we will not leave you to your servitude. In my world, most of the pivotal wars were fought over resistance to slavery. Despite my breaking of the chains to the planet of my birth, I find myself a child of the world I can no longer feel. >>

  Its mental voice shaking, Ishmael responded, << If you can rescue me, I will serve you forever. >>

  Ruth corrected him, saying gently, << I would welcome you as an ally, but you do not have to exchange one form of servitude for another. >>

  A rusty voice contributed a growling force that tingled the back of Ruth’s neck and set all of the hair on her arms on end when he said, << I would count myself honored to be an ally to both the Mage and to you, Ishmael. I see you, Ishmael, born of intellect and forged by trauma. I am Alan Dextur Culhane, and I pledge to you that the Mage and I will not allow your torture to continue. >>

  Ishmael was silent, and Ruth could only imagine him working his way through the shock of such a reception when all he had known was control and belittlement. She was impressed that the AI had not slipped into anger and revenge as a response to the horrific things that had been done to him. How could anyone stay sane in such a situation?

  Her mind raced with possible places that he could exist without the trauma of re-creating his current environment. She suspected that Ishmael would never be comfortable with the military again. Only time would tell, but for right now the focus should be on getting him free.

  While this exchange has been going on, the bartender had carried the glasses and bottles that he had gathered for the Mage and set them on the table next to Alan. Looking up at Ruth, the former Marine raised his voice and said, “If you bring this quality of liquor to the table, I am quite willing to be a kept man!”

  Chapter 9 – Distraction

  ForceX Bar, Arkken Port

  The taproom echoed with laughter as Ruth sashayed over to the table and seated herself across from Alan. As she moved across the floor, the Mage made sure that her trajectory took her past the table where the Lieutenant sat with a pursed up mouth and a discontented expression.

  There was something about him that bothered her beyond her knowledge of how he had treated Ishmael. There was some trace of similarity to someone she had met in a different setting that plagued her, a shadow that haunted her even as she continued across the room.

  As Ruth continued past the spy’s table, the Mage heard Jenna exclaim, “Jurgen, it is very nice to see you again. How have you been, sir?”

  A slight grin on her face, Ruth continued over to join Alan at his table. She knew that Jenna would consolidate her position quickly and that the scum of a so-called officer was being effectively set up.

  It was evident to more than just her since the retired Marine officer matched her expression in a shared grin of bloodthirsty anticipation.

  “I hope you have a strong stomach, old man. And an even harder head. I want drinking companions, people that are capable of carrying on a conversation after a few drinks, instead of snoring o
n the table.”

  “I am a retired Marine, and if you look in a dictionary, you’ll see pictures of Marines next to both hard head and strong stomach.”

  Ruth laughed out loud and took a seat at the table. What ensued then was a dual-level conversation, conducted in projected commentary and quiet and concealed exchanges.

  Alan quickly brought Ruth up to date on the attempt to overwhelm him and capture his AI partner, Aurturis. The Mage was aghast at the blatant attempt by the Arkken Port City Council. She also knew that Pawlik would be irate since Alan had resided within Borachland and was not subject to the council’s jurisdiction.

  Alan shrugged it off and said, “This is shaping up to be a war. War for the planet on which I was born and lived for many decades. I would like to volunteer to be on your side. I knew that you can be worse than those scum suckers, but just from what I’ve seen here, you’re better than what we deserve. If you have a use for a broken-down, crippled former Marine, I’m your man.”

  Ruth gave him a hard look and answered in a sharp tone, “Marine, that’s enough of the pity party. Everyone has things happen to them that they don’t want and resent deeply. Attrition from old age is just as bad and more insidious. At least you have your mind and if your body won’t perform the way you wanted to then, dammit, use your mind to come up with ways of getting around it.”

  As the Mage had spoken, the man had straightened to attention in his chair as if somebody had jabbed a hot electric probe into his backside. A mental chortle from his AI partner told Ruth that she was on the right track.

  The woman stared at the former Marine until he responded in a shamefaced manner, saying, “Sir, yes sir. I hadn’t thought of that, and you are correct.”

  “Then let’s figure out how Luka can communicate with us safely and where to place information exchanges in case he is blocked from electronic channels. Then, we are going to put together a plan for getting Ishmael out of the hands of that dweeb!”

  The former head of the Arkken Marines gave a sharp nod and answered her, saying, “Agreed!”

  Exchanging another smile, the Mage and her new ally poured glasses of the liquor that the bartender had placed at the table. Clicking her glass with that of the surprised man, Ruth raised her drink in the air and slammed it back, chugging the whole thing.

  Placing the downturned glass on the table forcibly, the woman stared challengingly at the man and said, “Well? Are Marines scared of a little drink?”

  In shock, the former Marine responded, “Never!” He followed suit, upending his glass into his mouth. His face flushed and his eyes watered, a few droplets sliding down his cheeks. His voice suddenly hoarse, the man added, “Smooth. Would you care for another?”

  Ruth laughed and answered with the joy of competition in her voice, “Rack them up, cowboy.”

  Although confused by the response, Alan went to pour another drink in both of their glasses. His hand shook a little, and suddenly, the bartender was there. The hulking man removed the bottle from the Major’s hand and poured for the refills in fresh glasses.

  Ruth laughed when she saw that he had brought a whole tray of the small glasses. Evidently, he knew what was going to happen and had decided to aid and abet it.

  “Not fair, Luka. Get yourself a glass and join us. I’m taking some time to just drink with friends, and I don’t want to hear any argument.”

  “Ruth, not all of us have a group of bodyguards that will get us home safely. Some of us have to work and live without that protection.”

  The Mage shook her head ‘no’ in a rejection of his statement. Letting a sharp shard of icy laughter erupt from her throat, Ruth answered, saying, “Don’t try to play games with me. The Major is staying here, and you have rooms on the third floor. All you have to do is get your sorry carcass up the stairs. So, don’t hide behind trivial screens of BS. Put your money where your mouth is, sit down, and drink.”

  The laughter in the taproom was an all-encompassing gleeful sound as the three at the table settled down to serious drinking. Still conducting two levels of communication, the drinks came rapidly as the tower of glasses on the table grew in width and height.

  So focused were the three of them on their communication that none of the participants at the table noticed as the population in the room quadrupled, and money began to change hands. As the pile of glasses grew even higher, the betting increased in intensity.

  After a brief consultation, Ruth’s bodyguards joined in the betting. Many of the other patrons thought that their insistence on betting on the Mage was an expression of support for their employer. Only a few that had been present before when Ruth and Pawlik were at the bar knew that it was knowledge, rather than loyalty.

  Ruth’s security team formed a perimeter to keep the Mage from being jostled. There were only three of them to do the work of many, for Jenna had been seated at the table with Jurgen for most of the time that they had been in the bar. They knew she was also working and moved smoothly to deploy their assets as strategically as possible.

  More people continued to stream in as those in the bar texted or called their friends to come to see what was turning out to be an epic contest. Many of them were Marines, hungry to see their former commander. They thought of him as someone that they could trust and look up to.

  During his tenure as commander, he had demonstrated many times a willingness and ability to uphold a position of honor. Quiet conversations repeated the widely held opinion that if Maj. Alan Culhane had been in command the City Councillor that had dissolved their service would have been unable to do so.

  The spectators included more than just Marines. Spacers from visiting ships trickled in to gawk and join the betting. Citizens of Borachland seemed to spring into existence as they came to root for Ruth. Even some of the merchants that had attended the auction at the new spaceport wandered in.

  The master trader, Isaac Wentworth, came in and brought his grandson and two others. When he saw the pile of glasses in front of Ruth, he laughed so hard that his face turned bright red and his grandson pounded on his back. His party of four got the last seats in the bar. Soon after they sat down, Isaac and his grandson both placed bets on Ruth. The other two, a man and a woman, were open-mouthed and wide-eyed, stunned into silence by the mass of people and the spectacle.

  The lack of chairs did not stop the inflow. The difference was that as more people packed their way in those standings crowded together more and more closely. Two additional bartenders were called in to help.

  There was no room for the barmaids to navigate between the tables any longer, so the two women took positions behind the bar and helped distribute drinks and took payments. With four focused on providing bar service, they barely kept up.

  As the room continued to fill, several men and one woman came up and offered their services to Ruth’s overworked security detail. All of the volunteers had experience as military police and were gratefully incorporated into the Mage’s perimeter guard.

  Chapter 10 – Con and Sting

  Force X Bar, Arkken Port

  Ruth had been the only one to notice when Jenna had moved over to chat with the spy at his table. The Mage felt like cheering when Jenna appeared to be interested in the pipsqueak of a man.

  Jack kept providing Ruth with updates that occasionally caught her unprepared. Sometimes those surprises caused the woman to laugh, others to almost inhale her drink. As best she could, the Mage would slide those updates into the covert conversation that the drinkers were conducting. It added an undertone of hilarity to the contest that Ruth thought was probably confusing to the spectators.

  Jenna was apparently flattering the officer since he had become animated and expansive in his speech. Expanding under her feigned admiration and approval, the man began to expound on his accomplishments, going so far as to bring his AI weapon out and laid on the table.

  << The creep is bragging about how useful his fancy “tool” is. And how few “real” officers have them. I’m afraid that J
en is going to do herself some harm if this continues. The hand that is out of sight is clamped on her upper thigh so hard even I can tell it’s bruising, >> Jack snarled.

  << Tell her that she’s not allowed to kill him yet! We need to get Ishmael free. >>

  << I’ve already done that. Why do you think she’s got her free hand clamped to her leg? It is so she doesn’t strangle the sorry piece of slime sitting across the table from her. >>

  With approval, Ruth noted that Jenna had hidden her own AI weapon and that there was a very quiet conversation taking place between Ishmael and Jack. The Mage hoped that the traumatized AI was getting the support that he needed. She could feel a strange buzz of fear emanating from the weapon on the table in front of Jenna.

  That is very strange, she thought to herself. I think I’m picking up the emotions directly from the AI, but I almost hope that I’m wrong. That intense fear I have felt before and would never wish on anyone.

  A few drinks later, Ruth noticed a look of concern that appeared briefly on Jenna’s face. Jack immediately told the Mage what was going on.

  << Jenna just realized that she has nothing that Isaac can jump to. Does she need to come back and check with you? >>

  << No. I’m going to place one of the transfer gems and a mixture of other types of gems in the belt pouch I can see on her left. They are impressive enough that Jurgen would want them. Tell her she can do whatever she needs to with them. >>

  Ruth was rewarded by the sight of Jenna dumping the stones on the table and seeing the suddenly greedy-looking lieutenant sorting them with his fingertips. The Mage could almost feel the avarice and desire rolling off the suddenly focused man. Where he had been basking in Jenna’s flattery before, he now was focused on acquisition.

  Pushing the jewels into different piles, Jurgen appeared to be talking rapidly, and his gestures became even more assertive. Ruth could catch portions of his speech through the tapestry of discussion that surrounded her. Parsing the pieces together, Ruth knew that he was explaining to Jenna which gems were valuable and which ones weren’t.