by Logan Jacobs
Still, I didn’t want to take any chances. I tucked the speeder key in my pocket and headed back to the bar. I might as well have another drink while I waited for the transport ship’s engines to warm up and take off. There had been an undercover operation once or twice in the time since I’d started doing business there, but they’d failed spectacularly. The only way to fool the caliber of criminals at the Den was to actually be one. Otherwise, they’d spot you all the way from across the flatlands.
The bartender was busy at the other end of the scrap metal bar, so I spun myself around on a stool and looked to see if there was any other booze I could try aside from watery ale. I was eager to get going myself, but there was still a chance Favian Grith’s man might have taken an interest in my skills. And besides, I wasn’t exactly eager to leave at the same time as Dadr. Better to let him get a headstart so all seemed above-board.
The cluster of jokers at the other end of the bar were ordering enough for the whole Den, so I decided to take a leak while I was waiting. Then I might try that bottle of mid-shelf purple liquor. There was something green and wriggling in the bottom of it, and curiosity was going to get the best of me.
I headed to one of the smaller caves behind the bar they’d been able to rig up plumbing in. The john was empty when I opened it, so I hummed to myself and imagined all the ways I might spend my hard-earned money.
The door kicked open behind me.
“Incoming,” chimed inside my head.
“Got it,” I grunted.
I counted at least three pairs of boots trudge in. One walked with a slight limp, and another one had a little shuffle to his gait. I finished up at the urinal, flexed my fingers as they surrounded me in a half-circle at my back, and gritted my teeth as I felt a gun press just below my ribcage.
“How can I help you boys?” I smiled, without turning around.
Chapter 3
The thugs didn’t have time to answer my question. Honey Bee slowed down the world, I reached behind my back, grabbed the barrel of the gun jammed into my ribs, and pointed it straight at the ceiling before the thug could react. He pulled the trigger in slow motion, but I just kept my grip on the barrel until his magazine was empty and the ceiling was full of holes.
“Missed me,” I said with a grin.
The thug with the gun just stared at me with bloodshot eyes, but his grip loosened enough on the gun for me to rip it from his hands. The two ugly mugs on either side of him looked to their red-eyed leader and then back again to me, but their movements were slow, like they were swimming through molasses.
I didn’t wait for them to figure out their next move. With my hand still wrapped around the barrel of the red-eyed thug’s gun, I raised it back like I would pistol-whip the leader of the thugs. Instead, I smashed the butt of the gun straight into the nose of the lean thug on the right.
He yelped and staggered back, and the chubby thug on the left put his head down and dove at my waist to tackle me. Honey Bee drew a line where he was going to move, so I jumped out of his way easily, but the man couldn’t stop his momentum and just barreled straight into the sink. His head thudded against the ceramic basin at the same time that the red-eyed thug recovered from his surprise. I guessed he wasn’t used to someone who could just rip the gun right out of his hands.
The red-eyed leader swung at me with a right hook and then a left, but I sidestepped them both. He tried to catch my jaw with an uppercut next, but I blocked his fist with my forearm and then slammed his own gun into his cheekbone.
The chubby thug was still recovering on the floor from his encounter with the sink, but the lean thug whose nose I had smashed came back into the fight now. With his hands still clutched to his face to keep his nose from spurting blood everywhere, he kicked out at my stomach. I dodged the first kick, and when he kicked out a second time, I just grabbed his ankle and twisted it.
The twist flipped him face-first onto the ground, right onto his already broken nose. He cried out as his red-eyed leader lunged at me again, his cheek already purple and swollen from where I’d hit him with the gun. I let him think he was about to grab me and then stepped out of the way, so the thug leader lost his balance and then tripped over the chubby thug who was still on his knees over by the sink.
“You could just shoot them,” my chip chimed inside my skull.
“Yeah, but where would the fun be in that?” I laughed.
If these assholes thought they were going to make some easy money tonight, they were dead wrong. I had earned my payment, and I sure as shit wasn’t going to let them get paid for doing nothing. Well, nothing but waving a gun in my face that they clearly didn’t even know how to use.
The chubby thug stumbled upright from where his leader had collided with him. When he swung his fists at my stomach, I kicked at his shins to make his legs go out from under him. As soon as he was on his knees, I brought my own knee up into his face, and then I brought the butt of the gun down on the back of his head.
He slumped to the floor with a little groan. All three thugs were on the floor now, so I just stepped over their bodies toward the exit. The lean thug with the broken nose grabbed at my ankles, but I stomped on his wrist and he howled as he let go.
I opened the door to leave the john. I had just tossed the gun to the floor behind me when Honey Bee chimed a warning in my head. I glanced over my shoulder to see that all three thugs had managed to stagger upright and now moved toward me as a whole wall of ugly.
“You just can’t take no for an answer, can you?” I sighed. “Well, old friends, let’s just see if you can keep up.”
I ran out of the bathroom back toward the bar. If these fuckers were stupid enough to chase after me, I figured I might as well have some more fun with them. I had the perfect idea in mind. As soon as I got to the bar, I scanned the crowd of drinkers and picked a man seated alone at the bar itself. He already looked mad at the world, so he seemed like a good pick to start a bar brawl.
I waited until I heard the three thugs from the john come up right behind me, and then I grabbed the seated man’s glass of beer and smashed it over his head. He jolted up faster than I would have thought, so I just stepped to the side and saw that the lean thug was the closest to us. I pointed at him.
“Can you believe this asshole?” I asked.
The man from the bar barreled straight into the lean thug like a charging bull. They stumbled across the Den together before they fell into two women who were sharing a drink. The women fell off their stools from the weight of the two men, and they both came up from the ground swearing.
One of the women shoved the lean thug off her and into the fist of the other woman. When he rolled away with a bloody eye, I saw that both women wore brass knuckles as jewelry. The chubby thug jumped in to try to pull the women off his friend, but he only succeeded in getting a fistful of his own teeth.
The red-eyed thug ignored his friends and thundered toward me instead. I smashed another drink over a different patron’s head, and he swung at the man next to him before he even bothered to see who had hit him. I grinned. The small bar fight I’d started was turning into a full-fledged brawl, and I felt quite proud of myself.
I sidestepped three more brawlers, but the red-eyed thug was focused and kept up with me. I stopped when I reached the far side of the bar and let the man swing at my shoulder. I dodged it at the last second so that the thug overextended himself, and when I came at him with a right hook, he couldn’t recover fast enough. My fist caught him in his stomach, so hard it damn near popped his lungs, and he sunk to his knees as he gasped for breath.
“Watch your six,” Honey Bee chimed.
I stepped out of the way just as a brawler tried to punch my lower back.
“You spilled my drink,” the man slurred.
“Begging your pardon, but you just tried to punch my kidney,” I said politely.
“Hey,” a low voice said near me, but I ignored the voice, snatched a beer from the bar, and flung it on the drunken braw
ler.
“Hey!” the voice thundered. This time, I turned and saw it was the bartender speaking to me. His arms were crossed over his massive chest, and I noticed for the first time that his skin was a faint purple color.
The brawler staggered toward me, but the bartender just reached across the scrap metal bar and shoved him. The man raised his hands in surrender and stumbled away. The bartender turned his attention back to me.
“Got a message for you,” he grunted.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I said.
He just stared at me and then handed over a small electronic pad. “Take it out back. It’s quiet through there.” He gestured at a tunnel entrance to his left.
I took the transponder and followed his directions. After I sidestepped a drunken brawler punching at empty air, I entered the tunnel as the transponder flashed blue twice to indicate an incoming transmission. I pressed the button to receive the message, and an image flickered above the electronic pad and then crystallized into a holographic projection of the caller.
The man who appeared could have been an old world pirate gone legitimate. His thick hair looked like a lion’s mane, and his carefully curled mustache only added to the effect. He wore a silk bandana tucked carefully into the top of his suit jacket. Both were different shades of scarlet, but they worked together in contrast with his dark skin.
“I trust I need no introduction,” the man in the hologram said.
“It’ll be a dark day when Favian Grith has to introduce himself.” I smiled and touched the frame of my shielding glasses. “I trust I don’t need an introduction either.”
“Quite right, Mr. Onyx. Love the shades, by the way.” Grith smiled. “So I understand you’ve had quite an evening.”
“Word travels fast.” I grinned and pushed my hair back from my eyes.
“Not as fast as the queen of the Abn Presa,” Grith said slyly.
I gave a little bow.
“So you’re the best there is, or that’s what they say, anyway.” Grith fidgeted with the curled end of his mustache, but it didn’t seem like a nervous tick. Instead, it seemed as calculated and careful as his grooming itself.
“Sometimes, you can believe everything you hear,” I answered.
“And what have you heard of me?”
There it was: the first test.
“That you’re a man with discerning tastes,” I answered cautiously.
“True. What else?” Grith adjusted the silk bandana at his throat.
“That you’ve worked hard to get where you are. And that you’re an ambitious man. That’s where I come in.”
The carefully groomed man waved his hand for me to continue.
“There’s something you want, and you need a man like me to get it for you. And I think I more than proved my value with a certain queen of ships recently.”
“Perhaps, but you know I’ll need to test your skills myself,” Grith sighed.
“What’d you have in mind?” I asked.
“A surprise.”
“I love surprises,” I laughed.
“I don’t know if you’ll love this one.” Grith’s eyes gleamed, and I remembered some of the more diabolical stories I’d heard about him.
“Try me.” I shrugged.
It was Grith’s turn to laugh now. “Oh, I intend to.”
“And what happens when I pass it?” I asked.
“Then you’ll be having brunch with me up here on the Alexandria, as we discuss the terms of your hire and what exactly I need you to acquire for me.”
“I could go for some fine dining,” I answered. “Let’s hear the test.”
“Are you familiar with the city of Etoria?” Grith asked.
“Sure,” I answered. “It’s one of the biggest cities on Deltulu, about four hours from the Den.”
“I’m glad you’re familiar with it,” the crime lord said. “I have a ship waiting for you in the city. The ship is linked to the Alexandria’s coordinates, so it’ll always show where my humble little space station is. My friendly bartender will tell you how to find the ship, and then all you have to do is take off and meet me for brunch. Since I’m currently orbiting Deltulu, I trust that shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“What’s the catch?” I asked. I knew he wouldn’t tell me, but there was no harm in asking.
“That’s it,” Grith said, with a disarming smile. I wondered if he’d grown his carefully manicured mustache just to make his smiles seem as charming as they were sinister.
“Then I’d like my bloody mary with extra pepper, if you don’t mind,” I sighed.
“Sorry?”
“My drink order,” I explained. “For brunch.”
Grith just laughed. “One bloody mary with extra pepper will be waiting for you. Oh, and brunch is served at precisely 7 a.m. I would not suggest being late.”
“7 a.m. in what time zone?”
“The ship’s clock has the right time zone keyed in for you,” he replied with a smile. “Good luck, Trevor Onyx.”
With a final twirl of his thick mustache, Grith ended the communication, and the screen went dark. I returned the transponder to the bartender in exchange for the name of a shipyard in the city of Etoria and the dock number of Grith’s test ship.
All the Den was involved in the brawl now, so other than ducking a few blows intended for someone else, I slipped off to the side easily, checked to make sure my payment was still in my vest pockets beneath my jacket, and climbed onto the speeder.
“I knew the queen would bring me luck,” I said cheerfully.
“We are very impressive,” Honey Bee chimed with a little laugh.
Other than a near-collision with a low-flying bird, the trip to Etoria was uneventful. I even managed to run the autopilot long enough to catch a quick nap. I didn’t know what exactly Grith’s test would be, but I sure as shit figured a few minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt before it started.
It was a few hours before sunrise when I reached the city. Another city on Deltulu might have been quiet, but for all the lights and activity in Etoria, it could have been the middle of the day, so I slowed my speeder and slipped off the jockey’s jacket as I crossed into the city limits. The jacket had kept me from freezing in the flatlands, but it would draw too much attention here. It fell to the ground behind me as I steered my speeder onto the next street to look for some food.
I smelled the oti stall before I saw it. Curried cheese and dates wrapped in a fried shell, with a sticky-sweet frosting on top. It was just what the doctor ordered, so I parked next to the stall, bought a double order, and wolfed them all down as I used my foot to steer the speeder toward the shipyard.
The yard had no security to speak of. I waved at the sleep-deprived guard at the gates, but he either didn’t care who I was or he was asleep with his eyes open. He didn’t even ask for identification, so I just sped past him into the endless shipyard.
I had entered through the gate closest to the dock number I needed, and I tried not to be distracted by the expensive ships on either side of me as I guided the speeder toward the crime lord’s dock. I passed between rows of ships as tall as skyscrapers, but infinitely more expensive. Each one had its own floodlights to guard against trespassers, and I would have bet that most of them also had their own personal armed guards and private alarms on board. It would explain why the guard at the shipyard gate was less than enthusiastic about his job. After all, with ships expensive enough to have their own private security, his job was more than a little irrelevant.
I flew my speeder to the dock number mentioned by the bartender and parked her on the concrete to the side of the runway. When I looked up at the craft waiting for me, I gave a low whistle. She was no Alfaromero-31, but if my queen of ships had been meant to fly off-world, she would have looked like this one. She was much bigger, of course, with a cylindrical frame able to withstand the pressures of space. Twin engine exhausts studded her tail on either side of the cargo doors.
And those doors were w
ide open.
I parked the speeder, flipped out of the seat with practiced ease, and headed into the open ship. The shipyard was big enough to be teeming with people at all times, even in the hours before dawn, so I didn’t unholster my weapons since there was no reason to draw attention to myself.
The cargo bay and engine room were empty, so I followed a flight of stairs up to the bridge, but that was all empty too. I glanced around the controls for any wires I might trip, but there was no sign anyone had been there. Even the map was dark, and I didn’t see the coordinates Grith promised would be here.
I looked for the ignition and smiled. There was no key, and there wasn’t even a touchpad where I could enter a code. That meant my chip couldn’t help me out of this one. I’d have to hack in and jumpstart it myself.
“We can still be helpful.” Honey Bee sounded like she was pouting.
“Of course you can, sweetness,” I chuckled. “Why don’t you scan the rest of the ship, see what we’re working with?”
She clicked in irritation, but I ignored her as I removed the manual panel underneath the controls. A maze of wires stared back at me. It was easy to see where most of them went, half to control the lights, the climate control, the artificial gravity, and everything else that went along with that.
It was the other half I cared about. I pulled aside tangles of wires until I found a bundle of red and yellow. I stripped the red insulation from the wires back with my knife and then twisted the exposed ends together. The ignition wire was a little trickier, and I ended up stripping a few unnecessary yellow wires before I decided it must be different in this ship. Then I stripped a nearby brown wire and connected it to the red wires.
The control panel pinged above me to tell me she had come to life, and I sneaked a look at the controls and saw the Alexandria’s shifting coordinates blinking on the screen.
“She is still dead in the air,” Honey Bee chipped in.
