Heat Seeker

by Scot C Morgan

  The mining outfits were similar to the ones he'd seen on so many planets and asteroid outposts—full-body suits, flexible yet durable material lined with rows of sealed pockets. The pockets held either a nutrient-filled liquid to keep the miners hydrated and nourished while they worked deep underground or they held the urine until it was processed enough to recycle back into the nutrient pockets, the interior lining of which had a nutrient coating which slowly washed into the liquid making it optimally ready for consumption.

  The three standing by the entrance, dirt on their faces and necks, clearly hadn't bothered to flush their suits before coming to the cantina. He could relate. He'd done a little mining many years back. He knew what it was like to finish a long underground job. All he could think of after weeks below the surface, working the bore drills, was to get topside for a drink and the company of strangers, all bent on having a good time and forgetting whatever it was they were trying to forget.

  That's why Jake was there too. He wanted to forget, at least for a while.

  It wasn't the new crew—Tiffin and Dewey. They were alright, he supposed. In fact, Dewey didn't bother him at all, and Jake felt he needed to watch over Tiffin, which he enjoyed, though he wasn't going to say it to her or anyone else.

  He couldn't stop thinking about finding the General—the man, his former boss, who'd made it his hobby to screw with Jake for the last ten years or so. After so many times of Jake being blindsided on a cargo run by Hyde or some other henchman or hired gun the General sent after him, he couldn't help but wonder what waited for him around every moon or space station rendezvous or...cantina. Now, with this delivery and the coordinates left in Sarah's nav computer for Hyde, who tried to steal her away from him on Eon, Jake had the means of taking the fight to the General for a change. He still didn't know if he should. What if he failed, he thought. Or if something happened to Sarah in the process of negotiating a truce, or while killing the General—he hadn't decided which to do. And now he had Tiffin and Dewey along for the ride—two more innocent lives to consider. But looking over his shoulder was getting old—older than old.

  Jake heard Dewey behind him, as they entered.

  "Oh. Ugh."

  "Dewey," Tiffin said.

  Jake glanced back and saw her glaring at Dewey, who was making a contorted face, crinkling his nose. Both Dewey's hands were too busy steadying the Death-bringer cage to do more to block the smell, but Jake could tell Dewey wished they weren't. Jake looked at the miners—two large men, his size, and a tall sinewy woman. They gave Dewey's sensibilities no notice.

  Jake returned his attention to the sprawling room. The bar took up a third of the space. Anchored in the middle, the bar was a circle with stools and room to seat twenty around the perimeter. A female drodginan—alluring as usual, a burly benifrot with the usual white beard covering most of his chest, and a creature Jake had only seen once before—a cephalopod, of the jalak race, were attending to the dozen seated around them. The main area surrounding the bar had ten tables, half of them occupied. Weaving between the tables, carrying drink trays, two servers dropped off full glasses and picked up empties. The servers were unrecognizable aliens to Jake's eyes. They weren't his type, but he figured they were easy enough on the eyes for those who appreciated their race. An educated guess, he told himself, and left the thought at that. All but three customers, Tiffin, and himself were non-human. He noted the novelty in the scene for a second, before moving through the crowd.

  The room was lively, a nice way of saying unruly and loud, which is a more accurate description. A heavy odor of sweat and unwashed clothes hung in the air, but it was the odd swirl of several unidentified species alien to Jake which demanded his attention. He ignored the unpleasant smell as much as he could. But he noted who had visible weapons, and who likely had hidden ones.

  Tiffin, walking beside him now, leaned in. "Eon had a lot of different kinds, but I've never seen some of these."

  Jake looked at her and grinned. "Get used to it. The galaxy is a big place. The trick is knowing which ones you need to avoid pissing off."

  Dewey crowded in. "Which ones are they?"

  Jake laughed and continued walking toward an alcove at the back left corner. There were four such semi-private seating areas, one in every corner. Each had a table and a half-height wall topped with masonry spindles. The alcoves were more dimly lit than the rest of the room, where all the overhead lights were.

  As Jake and Tiffin stepped into the alcove and took their seats, Dewey stood at the opening between spindled walls looking concerned. "Jake, which ones?"

  Jake gestured for Dewey to take a seat. "Maybe you should avoid all of them, just to be safe." He stared at Dewey and slowly grew a wry grin.

  "They're just here to have a good time," Tiffin said. "Sit down." She had placed the box of food for the Gefreety Death-bringer on the table in front of her. She raised the flap of her vest pocket and peeked in at Squeakers, who was sleeping. She'd lined the pocket with chunks of cheese and evidently Squeakers had eaten them all.

  Dewey seemed to have forgotten the creature in the cage in his hands, which, until they'd entered the cantina, he'd given his undivided attention. He looked over his shoulder for a moment before taking a seat on the left side of the table, as far into the alcove as he could. He slid the cage on the poly-coated concrete surface of the table, moving the still-sleeping Death-bringer a couple of feet from him. Jake had taken the back seat, facing the room. Tiffin looked across the square concrete slab at Dewey, who was craning his neck looking out into the crowd, likely trying to figure out which of the strangers posed the biggest threat.

  After a few moments, Dewey looked alarmed. He glanced at the cage and turned to Jake. "It's too loud in here. It'll wake up. We should leave."

  "It'll be fine," Jake said. "If it hasn't woken up by now, it's not going to."

  Dewey didn't seem satisfied with Jake's answer, but didn't say anything more. He continued to look worried and shook his head.

  Jake waved over one of the waitresses and order drinks for the three of them.

  The first round of drinks did little to calm Dewey. Tiffin had a cider. Jake threw his down in only two gullet-pumping takes. He waved off Dewey's request to get back to the ship after they'd finished, and instead ordered another round.

  Jake watched one of the waitresses deftly bend to avoid several collisions as she traveled between clusters of junk pushers, mercs, mechanics, fellow cargo runners, scammers, and scoundrels. The steady mix of twenty or so conversations provided privacy to each, as the voices and sounds of scooting chairs and clanking mugs bled together. Only an occasional shout broke through to be heard distinctly. And only one of those so far was followed by a fist to the head of another at that table—and they went back to drinking and talking shortly thereafter.

  Jake was enjoying the distraction of the crowd and beginning to let go of what had been bothering him all day—same as the last several days. The timing of taking on a crew couldn't have been worse. He'd been troubled by that ever since he picked up Dewey and Tiffin on Eon. If he hadn't found the mysterious coordinates in Sarah's navigation computer as they high-tailed it off of Eon, narrowly avoiding being blown to smithereens by both Hyde's men and the Eon security forces, he could be more at ease with two new crew to look after. But deep down he knew he wasn't going to forget about the rendezvous point someone sent to Sarah's nav computer for Hyde to follow once he'd hijacked Jake's beloved ship. Over his dead body, Jake had decided—Hyde's, of course.

  "Will Sarah be missing us?" Tiffin asked, running her finger over the top of her cider glass. She hadn't finished it. In fact, she stopped drinking it altogether, leaving the glass half full.

  Jake didn't want to answer Tiffin's question. It made him feel guilty for hanging out in the tavern after they'd gotten the cargo they'd come for, the creature in front of Dewey. "What's wrong with your drink?" He nodded toward her glass.

  She glanced at it and stopped her finger from running across
the rim of it. "It's fine."

  Dewey, who had been nervously fidgeting since they sat down, leaned forward over the table. "We should go."

  Jake raised his brow. "You still on that?"

  "No. This is something different," Dewey said. He looked more concerned than before, if that were possible.

  Tiffin slid her glass closer and to one side, clearing the space between her and Dewey. "What's the matter?"

  "Those three who were at the door when we came in," Dewey said.

  "What about 'em?" Jake turned his head to look back toward the entrance. "Looks like they're gone."

  Dewey looked confused. "Shooting," he mumbled.

  Jake chuckled. "Maybe you should stick to cider too."

  Tiffin settled back into her chair and took another peak into her vest pocket. "Hey, cutie."

  Jake saw Dewey's eyes widen. Dewey's focus seemed to have abruptly shifted. Jake watched Dewey's eyes flit toward Tiffin even as his head seemed to be locked facing forward.

  Jake thought for a moment about what trouble might be coming for him when it came to Dewey and Tiffin. But a strong smell drew his attention away from the budding complication between his new recruits. In the same instant he figured out what the smell was he saw Dewey's eyes bulge and his blue skin drop two shades lighter.

  The smell was coming from the direction of a group of five walking toward him, coming up beside Tiffin. A quick glance at the approaching customers told him they weren't the ones he smelled. They weren't the miners. He shifted his head an inch to one side, then to the other. Then he saw something. Dewey's freakout was on target.

  Tiffin looked up after closing the pocket flap over Squeakers. "What's wrong?"

  Jake slid out from his seat, pushing two of the passing customers into the table to their other side. He lunged forward and used his opposite arm to shove Tiffin next to Dewey.

  She let out a short squeal. Dewey caught her.

  Leaning in to get a bead clear of the innocent passers-by, Jake squeezed the trigger on his blaster. The shot sped through a small opening between the shocked group, as they scrambled for cover. One of the miners, blaster drawn, dropped to the floor. The man and woman beside him looked down at his lifeless body. The blast wound in his chest was decisive. The woman screamed. She pulled a knife from the sheath on her right hip, from underneath the draping unworn top of her miner's over-suit. She held the blade in front of her and glared at Jake.

  The noise in the room grew to a chaotic roar and jumble, as patrons got up, some knocking over their chairs in the process. Mugs crashed to the floor. Several shouts and screams rang through the bar.

  The tall sinewy woman brandishing the knife blade, charged Jake.

  His mouth drew back at one corner with the split second of disappointment he felt at having to shoot the woman. But he knew he had to do it. She wasn't going to stop and her companion looked to be reaching for a weapon of his own.

  Jake was instinctively acting to protect Tiffin and Dewey, the way he'd made the hard calls in the past to protect new recruits assigned to his unit—men too green to know when death was only seconds away.

  Before he squeezed the trigger on his trusty blaster, a heavyset man fleeing the scene pushed by him, knocking Jake's blaster from his hand. The shot went off in the same instant, striking the floor. A scattered spray of energy from the blast deflected up, nearly missing the heads of two panicked customers before burning several holes in the ceiling. Small pieces of debris fell onto the people below.

  The woman thrust her blade at Jake's gut. She was quick.

  Still recovering from leaning in to push Tiffin out of immediate harm, Jake was off balance. He tried to twist to dodge the knife, but he only half succeeded.

  His attacker had training. She moved in a flash, stepping into her thrust and past Jake, spinning around to face him from behind.

  Jake felt the heat and sting of the wound. She had sliced the right side of his torso, moving close enough to the outside for the blade to move fully through instead of impaling him.

  He glanced at the cut as he repositioned his feet, turning halfway toward the woman, but keeping her large partner in his sights. He noticed a heavy smear of blood on the bottom side of his otherwise brown leather jacket.

  Son of a bitch.

  "Jake!" Tiffin pushed herself up from Dewey's lap, reaching out for Jake.

  Jake held his left arm up, blocking her from getting between him and the two miners. He scanned the floor for his blaster, but couldn't see it.

  In his peripheral vision, he saw Dewey stand up.

  "Jake!" Dewey grabbed the sides of the cage in front of him. The cage rattled. The Gefreety Death-bringer let out a high-pitched shriek. Then another.

  Jake saw the cage jolt and Dewey struggle to keep a hold on it.

  Jake felt a surge of adrenaline fill his veins as the woman made another move for his gut. This time his footing was good. He made a small pivot with a quick sidestep and a slight crouch, looping his powerful arm underneath hers as she thrust her knife at him. He folded his arm inward, choking hers just below her shoulder, making a vice with his bulging bicep and thick forearm. He stood tall, hoisting her up, taking one of her feet off the ground. With his left arm he hammer-fisted her wrist. The knife fell from her hand with his blow. She yelled in pain and her body became deadweight as her knees buckled.

  Jake hadn't counted on her hanging on to him, but that's what she did, grabbing hold of his jacket with her other arm. With her weight tipping him toward her, he turned his glance to see what the other miner had in store for him.

  He figured the sizable man would be swinging his fist at him by now, but he was wrong.

  With the woman still clinging to his jacket, and now wildly kicking at his legs, Jake saw the other miner reach behind his back and bring out a double-barreled blaster. Jake narrowed his eyes with interest at the unusual weapon, but quickly realized he wasn't going to avoid getting shot in the face from six feet away.

  Shit.

  He heard the blast.

  Chapter 14

  Jake didn't feel the impact he expected. He wasn't dead. He hadn't even felt a shot.

  But he saw the shot. It came from the side. And it hit the miner in front of him before the man had a chance to squeeze the trigger on his double-barreled blaster.

  Jake watched the oversized blaster tip to one side and roll out of the man's hand as his grasp on it loosened. The weapon hit the ground first. Jake watched it until the man fell on top of the blaster.

  The woman let go of Jake's jacket and he unfolded his arm letting hers loose. She stopped kicking him and sat on the floor, cradling her injured arm with her other.

  Jake's awareness widened to once again take in the rest of the room. He noticed half the crowd had left, and those who remained were quieter now. Watching.

  He heard a strange hiccup followed closely by a soft whimper.

  "You had to do it," Dewey said.

  Jake turned to Dewey and Tiffin. Both her arms were extended. She was holding a blaster. It was identical to his own, but looked so much bigger in her hands. Jake noticed her hands were trembling.

  Dewey reached over to her and gently placed his hands on her arms, lowering them.

  Jake glanced at the woman who had knifed him. She still sat cradling her arm. Two men stepped beside her, glaring down at her. Jake could tell they were on his side, or at least not on hers. He turned his attention back to Tiffin.

  "He's right," Jake said to Tiffin. "And if you hadn't shot him, he would've killed me."

  He stepped over to Tiffin and took the weapon from her hand. "You okay?"

  She wiped the corner of her eye and nodded.

  Jake addressed Dewey, who was surprisingly calm at the moment. "Why don't we get—"

  Shriek! The Gefreety's cry was louder than before, or so it seemed now that the crowd had quieted.

  Alarm snapped back onto Dewey's face. "Oh, no! I almost forgot!" He hastily turned toward the creature, reach
ing with both arms for the cage. The creature had moved the cage by jumping around inside it when Dewey had his attention on Tiffin. It sat on the table much closer to him than he had left it. As he stretched out his arms and turned, he struck the cage, shoving it across the table. It settled on the far side of the table, teetering half over the edge.

  Dewey froze as he watched it slide and he sighed with relief when it stopped short of falling off the table. "Whew."

  "Oh, I'm sorry," Tiffin said.

  "Not your fault," Jake said. "Dewey you better hang on to that. See if you can quiet it down too."

  The Gefreety continued to make shrill noises. They were loud enough to cause Jake to wince a little. He saw Tiffin and Dewey were doing the same.

  The two men who had approached the woman who attacked Jake took her by her arms, ignoring her protests and hauled her over to the bar.

  Jake saw the cephalopod at the bar talking to a comm panel on the wall. He yelled over to the him, it? "Getting security?"

  The tentacled bartender held up one of its appendages in Jake's direction and nodded without looking at him as he continued to speak into the comm panel.

  Jake ducked his head down a little to catch Tiffin's eyes. She was looking at the man she'd shot, who was still on the floor a few feet away from her. "Let's get outta here. Okay?" He glanced at the two dead men and to the woman who'd knifed him. "They can take care of these guys." He waited for a response from her. After a second, she looked up at him and nodded. "Probably better we get on our way," Jake said, "before somebody decides we need to go to the local security office to explain everything."

  Someone from the crowd yelled across the room, "Get that thing out of here, whatever it is!"

  "Yeah," another voice from the crowd chimed in. "And take your trouble with you!"

  Several more people spoke up in agreement.

  Jake cast a gaze at the crowd and smiled. He held his hand up and nodded. "We're leaving." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a credit chip. He checked it to make sure it was enough but not one of his bigger credit stores before tossing it on the table. "Sorry for the trouble." He smiled, but the crowd only grumbled at his peace offering. He didn't care for their lack of understanding. "Of course, we didn't start a damn thing. None of you stepped in." He shrugged. "So…"