by Blaze Ward
Glaxu dialed in the magnification as the ship coasted. The humans were heavily armed, even for this planet, so they understood how dangerous the natives were. That boded well. He decided to set down secretly and follow them on foot.
If they weren’t from around here, they might not be such assholes.
He let his eyes grin as he flipped Outermost over on one wing, pulled in all the lifting surfaces, and pushed the engines over hard.
12
Valentinian
He looked up when he detected movement out of the corner of his eyes, tracking something too far away for Valentinian to identify what it was. Aircraft of some sort, moving at a high rate of speed, but away from him, so not currently a threat.
“Dave,” he called out anyway.
“Got him,” the big man said solemnly.
Valentinian heard the rifle come down from Dave’s shoulder. Chamber got checked for a round. Glancing back, Dave was carrying it across his chest now, barrel already pointed in the general direction, just in case.
Valentinian had settled for a heavy flamer pistol this morning. The biggest, ugliest thing he could stuff into a thigh holster. Everyone else had made do with smaller flamers or shock pistols, depending on their mood, but they all had extra guns. Valentinian had an extra shock pistol openly holstered to the side of his boot.
Dave had the sniper rifle. It also just happened to be a portable rocket launcher, firing a missile the size of the man’s thumb. Caseless, so it would just be getting up to a nice speed when it cleared the barrel, en route to hitting ten times the speed of sound on this planet if it traveled three kilometers downrange without hitting anything. Might not bring down a spaceship, but it would certainly thump the hell out of one, and might punch a hole in your shell big enough to let a lot of air out.
Dave had just grinned when Valentinian asked if he could use it effectively. Yeah, former leader of the Caelon Assault troopers knew weapons.
Bayjy was holding one of the plasma rifles today. That would let her intimidate the hell out of people, without sparking a mass casualty incident if she had to open fire. Just lots of bruising and second degree burns. She seemed okay with that outcome. Still pissed about getting ambushed yesterday, but learning to shoot in combat wasn’t an overnight task.
Kyriaki had apparently spent more than a little time touring the armory yesterday. She had emerged this time with an assault pulsar that had been hidden clear at the back, a short-range, high-rate-of-cycle version of the pulse carbine or pulse rifles in the closer racks.
Extremely effective at less than fifty yards, and Kyriaki had that same look in her eyes that Bayjy did. Death would be jealous of those two.
Seriously? He could get accustomed to being the wimp in this group, rather than the muscle.
They circled wide around the site of yesterday’s fun, along the path Kyriaki had used to sneak up on those city boys. Took a little longer to get down to the flats at the edge of town, but less risk.
They’d find a different way back later.
This town was on its own clock. Locals were setting up the morning sooq when the group passed through. Valentinian checked, but nothing interesting stood out today. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, or he’d have mentioned it to someone yesterday. They’d probably find it during the mid-day nap and then have it for sale later if he did.
Other people were just now staggering out of their all-night entertainment, stumbling towards whatever niche or grotto they slept in, away from the heat. Those people were no significant threat this morning.
A few looked at Valentinian and his small army of destruction, but nobody was drunk enough to pick a fight this morning and get their asses kicked. Wasn’t something he would expect to hold true every day, but today was good enough.
The bibliophile had given them directions to a compound on the far side of town. Valentinian had considered skirting all the way around, but decided that looked a little too feeble, so he marched them right down the main road in from the south, through the central market and the sooq, and out the other side. Mostly just merchants and a few locals this morning, rather than any of the more dangerous people who apparently fed on travelers and tourists.
Let them. Valentinian was feeling a mite indigestible this morning.
Basuk’s compound was obvious, once they cleared the last ring of buildings clustered in tight against each other. If this town had torn down a wall around the outside and built a circling road, Basuk had built just on the outside of that.
Low, stone walls looked just about right for someone to stand behind and fire out, in the event of a mob. All five points of the pentagram had elevated platforms as well. Tiny lighthouses, perhaps, but also sheltered places for a gunman. The metal gate split down the middle and had a patina of rust on it, but Valentinian suspected that it was painted on later, as one of them was open enough to walk in, and they were as thick as his fist. If that was steel, it would weigh tons.
A human with a lightweight rifle waited at the open gate, observing them with a blank face as they approached.
“I was instructed to seek out Basuk,” Valentinian said when he was close enough to talk instead of yell. “His cousin sent me.”
“You are the book collector,” the man said with a sudden smile. “Welcome.”
Sure. Why not? If that was the way they wanted to identify him, he could live with it.
Inside, there was a courtyard filled with vehicles. He guessed that’s what they were, anyway.
Start with repulsorlifts and a generator. Build just enough frame to count, and then cover most of it with a steel mesh about two centimeters thick. Seat for a driver up front in the center, with a semi-solid slab of metal as a wind blocker, assuming you wore goggles. Turret right behind that, where someone standing could rotate a ring-mounted heavy weapon to engage pedestrians and low-altitude aircraft.
Twenty-five centimeter-high gunwales on the sides would offer minimal protection to people sitting on benches down the middle, facing outward. Or give you a place to rest a barrel when shooting. Cargo could be stashed in any number of places inside by flipping the benches up, and there were hooks and shelves on the outside of the vehicle as well.
Valentinian checked, and there was a bank of lights across the bow, so you could drive at night. Not fast, but not blind either.
No protection from the sun, whatsoever, so Bayjy would be in heaven and the rest of them would have to wear robes and hats at all times.
He decided, after looking at the five parked here, that someone had designed one by cutting everything they could off of a regular ground truck first. After that, they had built them from memory and spare parts, since no two here were identical. Close, but unique.
“Hello, my old friend,” a man emerged from the front of the stone building.
Valentinian recognized the book dealer as the man approached. They shook hands gravely.
“Basuk,” the man turned and gestured to a second man that had emerged, wearing identical, sand-colored robes. “This is the man and his friends. He is a most impressive negotiator, especially for a human.”
Valentinian took that to mean that these locals weren’t necessarily from around here. Not that you could tell, and he didn’t care that much. Externally, they appeared to have all the right parts in the right places. And it was their planet. He was just visiting briefly.
Basuk approached and also shook hands. The man took a long moment to study the rest of the group before he smiled and turned to his cousin.
“It is good, Marduk,” the man said. “You should stay and have tea with us. The shop can open late today.”
The book dealer, Marduk, considered it and shrugged.
“As you command, cousin,” he said lightly, giving Valentinian some visibility into their culture and their relationship.
They all filed back inside, where the air was much cooler.
“Here,” Basuk said. “You can leave your heavier weapons on this rack while we talk.”
“I understand from my cousin that you will be off to seek something in the northern, equatorial belts,” Basuk said with a light smile as the tea got served. “Normally, visitors find themselves at a military disadvantage when facing the mutants of the wastes, but you appear to be both well-armed and quite capable, especially after the way you treated Rossham and his friends so roughly last night.”
Valentinian shrugged.
“We are strangers here,” he said with a guileless face. “Just shooting them all out of hand seemed rude. They might be related to someone important and I would hate to have to destroy this city, if the dipshit’s master went and declared blood feud with me.”
Valentinian liked the way both men’s eyes got a little bigger at those words. Pure bluff on his part, but they didn’t need to know that. And it was only a bluff if nobody pissed him off enough to actually force the issue.
He might be the slightest bit angrier today than he had been a year ago. And surrounded by at least two killers, plus a woman who would make up for it in raw enthusiasm at this point.
“Indeed?” Basuk managed. “Well, your forbearance is noted. Not that many of the locals would have missed those men, but yes, a war in town might have spilled over onto the natives as well. Were you able to locate that which you sought in Marduk’s books?”
“Perhaps,” Valentinian replied, relaxing just a bit.
Dave and Kyriaki were both wound tight enough for the rest.
“According to the various sources, the place we need to go is called the Juxx Wastelands today,” he continued.
“The Deep Wastes, then?” Basuk asked, his eyes growing a shade larger before they settled again. “Some of the more dangerous tribes reside there. I would recommend you avoid that area, unless your quest has religious overtones?”
“Why do you say that?” Valentinian probed.
“The mutants of that area are among the worst and weirdest of all the tribes,” Marduk spoke up.
“Are they mutant, or Variant Humanity, or what?” Valentinian turned to the man.
“According to the legends we know, they were human once, as the four of you,” Marduk responded. “At least as much as the Urlan overlords recognized such a thing. However, thousands of years of the heat and solar radiation of the equator have changed them. Plus there are spots where the radiation left over from the old wars is still high enough to be a threat to anyone living there for long enough.”
“Radiation?”
“Once, this world was an emerald and azure paradise, my friend,” Basuk said. “The Jynarri, like myself and my cousin, are native to this world, going back to the time before the Urlan Empire. Savage weapons were used to knock the planet itself out of the normal orbit and too close to our star. The results are the world-spanning deserts of the modern era. The radiation will linger for a few more millennia, at least in the worst places.”
Valentinian blinked. Those wars had been theoretical things. Historical events. He had not processed that it was possible to destroy a world, and yet still live on it afterwards. Apparently, Kryuome was proof.
“So if we wanted to go anyway…?” Valentinian let the words linger.
“I would still recommend against it,” Basuk said. “But if you are committed, you will need significant firepower. What you brought with you here was acceptable for the city, but you will need something heavier for the deep wastes.”
“I noted several transports out front,” Valentinian said.
“One with spare parts, if this is the size of your force,” Basuk nodded. “Something monstrous to mount in the turret. I presume you would land in a secret spot and then drive to your target, lest the locals find and strip your ship while you are gone. Desert gear will be easy enough. I would recommend something extra for the females to carry at all times, so they could not be taken alive.”
“Alive?” Kyriaki leaned forward and growled at the man.
Basuk nodded solemnly at her as Valentinian leaned back.
“The men would most likely just go into the stew pots if captured,” the arms merchant said seriously. “The two of you would become breeding stock for the tribe. I presume that you would find that lot in life objectionable.”
Valentinian wondered if Basuk was baiting the two women, which was immensely stupid, but decided after a moment that he was really trying to convey to them how dangerous it would really be out there.
Fates worse than death wasn’t just a saying.
“What armaments do those tribes buy?” Dave spoke up before anyone got their feelings hurt.
“Personal arms, such as what you’ve brought,” Basuk turned his attention to the tall killer. “They frequently have heavier gear, designed to stop an armored speeder or a low-flying craft with a missile or heavy ammunition round, such as a light auto-cannon. That is the reason my trucks have so few solid parts. The tribes are more likely to shoot at you with the smaller weapons, since the heavier might fail. At that point, it becomes a case of speed and maneuverability, and these repulsors have an edge in their weight-to-power ratios that the more heavy desert vehicles lack.”
“You’ve equipped a number of folks for the desert,” Valentinian said. It wasn’t a question.
“Salvagers come regularly, seeking their fortunes,” Basuk nodded. “As do foolish historians. Some trade with the tribes. Others dislike paying transit fees, so they try to sneak in. You don’t strike me as academics, in spite of your purchases at Marduk’s shop. Nor are you salvagers, so I would classify you as merely adventurers. If a group such as you might be merely anything.”
They all shared a smile and a chuckle.
Valentinian nodded after he refilled his tea.
He just might enjoy haggling with this man.
13
Athanasia
It was amazing, what two days and a heavy dose of personal awakening might do to someone. Athanasia studied Stephaneria’s new persona with a warm smile.
Gone was the demure librarian in the long skirt, her hair up sensibly. Today she was in black. Leggings, tunic, tabard, done with a dark crimson almost maroon as highlights, edging, and flashing. Her hair was down and tousled. Her eyes were no longer polite.
Athanasia wore a similar outfit, something considered normal fashion within the Dominion Household, but hers was gray and gold, as befit the Dowager wife of the Dominator, however few people might ever realize that, this many hundreds of light-years from home.
They were both armed today as well. Shock pistols on their belts, just in case, but Athanasia relied more on the team of killers lining the walls of this small chamber as she and Stephaneria sat at a conference table in a space at the station library.
Stephaneria had given her notice, and would depart the station in another few days, but she still had all her contacts here. Friends who might pass along rumors and stories. Access to dangerous men, like the one Athanasia expected shortly.
The door opened and the M’Rai captain ducked under the sill to enter.
He was three meters tall and muscular. Not as well organized as her former husband, but the man still had a V-shape to his torso, even as his stomach had a bit of a paunch going.
She didn’t need to seduce the man physically, however interesting such a coupling might prove. They had apparently been designed to be more or less compatible with smaller humans.
Rage emanated off the man, in waves similar to Stephaneria at those moments when she got introspective. Interestingly, and by the sheerest luck Athanasia that didn’t believe in, the same man had been the cause with both of them.
“Sit, Captain Vidy-Wooders,” Athanasia more or less ordered the man.
Best to establish the terms of the relationship right
now. He would no doubt rebel and resist, but let him strain the leash against her after she had put it upon him.
The M’Rai giant glowered at her from under heavy brows, but took a seat across from them. Stephaneria had even found a chair that would fit the man, and a table that could be adjusted so everyone was comfortable. The two women’s feet dangled, but it made this a meeting of more-or-less equals.
“Do you know who I am?” Athanasia queried him sharply.
“An Ambassador from someplace called Dominion,” Vidy-Wooders spit out harshly.
“Close,” she corrected him. “A hunter. Dave Hall was my husband, before he abandoned me and fled justice aboard a ship named Longshot Hypothesis, captained by a man you apparently know.”
It was almost pleasant, watching both of them twitch at the thought of Captain Tarasicodissa.
“Go on,” the man growled.
“I have a lead to where they went, after Begzatlari,” Athanasia smiled coldly at him. “After your encounter with the man. It’s a pity you don’t have a crew these days, or a warship, or I might hire you to assist my vengeance.”
He reared back a little before he caught himself. She heard grumbles under his breath.
“You have a warship?” he asked.
“I have a Dominion Assault Courier at my command,” she corrected him again. “And a crew. You have an unarmed salvage transport, and you are alone.”
“Why am I here?” he asked heavily.
“You want to be avenged on those people almost as much as I do,” she tried to be charming, in spite of her opinion on the salvager. “And you have a much better understanding of Wildspace. I want to see if we can reach an accommodation.”
“What kind?” his eyes had a warmer glow now.
“I’ll give you the coordinates where I intend to go,” she replied. “My ship’s faster than yours, so I’ll get there first. Plus, I have guns and a crew, so I might be able to kill Dave Hall when I get there.”
