Ethan considered possibilities, based on the driving speed involved. Either the sheriff had gathered reinforcements to rush out here, or he and his deputy, in two vehicles with more passengers, had coincidentally chased seven men in a truck all the way to the airfield.
More interesting, he thought. He finished his beer, setting the bottle with the other empties on the table, and interlocked his fingers behind his head, elbows spread wide. He maintained his casual tilted back, foot propped posture, as the three arrivals turned off the gravel road, and made screeching braking sounds as they slid to hurried stops on the tarmac.
The men in the truck, which had passed by the open cantina door, leaped out and four men rushed into the large hangar, and three went to the smaller hangar.
The two official marked cars stopped in front of the cantina. They each appeared to seat four people, although the heavy coating of dust made the tinted windows harder to see through. All four doors of each car instantly sprang open, and as Ethan had guessed, one man made an exit at each door. That made eight more men. A curious welcoming procedure for a no-customs, Free Entry world.
A high pitched, excited sounding voice, which Ethan could never have mistaken, said, “I’ll get tha back door, some o ya cover tha side winders.” Squeaky voice had drawn his small pistol. Depity Claghorn had arrived, acting as if he was in charge.
The excitable and skinny man was clearly confused, since there was no back door to the cantina, and the only windows were the two wide ones in front, on either side of the door. Ethan had left the door open, to allow some circulation in the heat of Chisholm’s summer in this hemisphere.
Then a milder, authoritative voice sounded. “Clyde put your damn gun away. You others, keep ‘em in your holsters and stay out in front of the cantina. I’ll go inside with Jace and Cliff, and I want both of you to stay behind me. I’ll do the talking.” He’d looked at each man pointedly as he spoke. He next needed to give Claghorn something harmless to do.
“Clyde, by all means, why don’t you go around the back and look for that other door. I’ll call you if I need you.” He sounded annoyed with the excited Deputy. Sheriff McKinnon was taking charge, and calming things down.
Ethan watched as the speaker, an older heavyset man, placed a wide brimmed tan hat on his graying hair, and stepped away from the lead car. He had a gold star on his left chest, like the five pointed versions painted on the two utility vehicles.
Claghorn, wearing a silver version of the badge, scurried around the side of the building and out of sight. Four of the six men, also wearing silver badges and evidently deputized, seemed a bit uncertain as to what they were supposed to do, although the two men the sheriff named and who formed up behind him, didn’t have badges. They followed behind the sheriff as he walked towards the open cantina door.
Ethan coolly examined each man. Both had the hard look and eyes of men not to be trifled with, and the one named Jace, identified by the sheriff’s head nod when he spoke to him, wore his single holster low on his hip, tied to his thigh at the bottom, apparently for a smoother and faster draw.
The other man, Cliff, wore a pistol at each hip, both hanging rather low, but not tied down. The right side holster held a long barreled revolver, and the left weapon appeared to be some model of semiautomatic. The holster retainer straps had been unsnapped by both men, showing they were prepared for a quicker draw if that was required.
The sheriff grimaced and shook his head as he paused on the small front porch. He looked inside and saw Ethan alone, sitting nonchalantly at one of the three small tables. With a sigh, he said low enough that only the men in front would likely hear, “Deputy Claghorn invited you two before calling me, and you other four deputies will get your half-day public service fee, but don’t let that idiot, who I had to hire, tell you what to do. His uncle Gregos had enough influence to get him a job, but he doesn’t have a say in how I run my office.
“He managed to convince those seven Lazy S hands of his uncle to come out here to look for a possible shuttle thief, simply because the arriving shuttle returned empty and on automatic to the mother ship. All this trip out here is really about is questioning a couple of people who came to Cayuga from off planet, and who are here on business. I don’t want to set a bad example for visitors to take back with them. The Hub worlds think we’re ignorant hicks as it is. Let me ask the questions. There’s no reason for this damned hubbub.”
The sheriff was perfectly aware that his words would reach the man sitting ten feet inside the open door, so it was an obvious attempt to inform the visitor that this foolish excitement was entirely the fault of his overreacting deputy. His words were also intended as a caution to the two Double T ranch gunmen, Jace and Cliff, who his deputy had found and invited along, but were not deputized.
Those two men were his main concern this morning, since he really couldn’t exert much authority over them. It was why he wanted them to stay close to him, where he could try to control their actions. The man in the shuttle had told traffic control, who had told Claghorn, who had told everyone else, that he was a security consultant.
On Chisholm, new arrivals described that way were always men like Jace and Cliff. Hired guns for the big ranch operators. This man refused to say whom he was meeting, but it wasn’t anyone from the CCA, who paid the bonus money Jace and Cliff were rumored to earn for their deadly “work.” That made the man inside a competitor in their specialty at a minimum, and possibly a future opponent. They naturally wanted to size him up, or eliminate him now if he already belonged to the opposition.
Ethan heard of course, but their actions here were of no concern to him. The men outside were all packing guns, and Ethan, following the rules of a Free Entry world was not, although he’d had every intention of breaking that rule, had Kit not spoiled his plan. Despite that glitch, his built-in weapons weren’t obvious, although Kit’s clearly were, and she couldn’t look disarmed or harmless if she tried, and she never tried. Naturally, she didn’t carry firearms, which she couldn’t operate anyway.
The fingers and thumb thing again, Ethan thought with a smile.
Mackinnon, after another warning glance at the other four temporary deputies, stepped through the cantina door with Jace and Cliff at his back.
“I take it you’re the shuttle pilot? I was told you had your sister with you. Did she go back to your ship on the shuttle? The AI claimed it was empty.”
Ethan stayed in his tilted back posture, and waved with his right hand before placing it behind his head again. “Morning sheriff. My sister is taking a nap in the vending machine room, where it’s warmer. You folks took longer than the five minute drive your deputy told us to expect.”
Mackinnon, his face perspiring profusely from the summer warmth and his own girth, sounded suspicious as he asked, “She was feeling chilly? Its summer.” He glanced at Jace and Cliff, who, like the all the others, had sweat stains under their armpits, and runnels of sweat in the light coating of dust on their sun-weathered faces. Greeves own shirt was dry under his exposed armpits, and his youthful tanned face didn’t display a hint of perspiration.
Ethan grinned. “We’re from Koban. Our summers are hotter and more humid that yours are. This is a dry heat, and cooler than what we’re accustomed to feeling. It was summer at home when we left, so both of us were already fully adapted for heat. Particularly my sister Kit, who is physiologically better suited to Koban’s heat than I am. She’s a native, and I was only born there.”
Jace ignored the sheriff’s earlier instructions and asked, “What the hell’s the difference? Your sister’s a native but you ain’t?”
“Well, we don’t look even slightly alike. She was adopted, you see, and she joined my family just before I was born. That makes her my big sister, and she had evolved to be comfortable in Koban’s weather, and I was adapted for that much later.”
“How’s that explain why she’s a native and you’re born there and ain’t a native? I think that’s stupid sounding to me.” Th
e word evolved clearly had eluded Jace.
“Jace. Let me ask the questions.” McKinnon repeated.
From experience, he knew the gunman was working his way up to provoking the stranger. Mackinnon wished Jace would just shut his mouth, but in truth, he too wanted to know what the visitor meant, and he’d heard him say evolved. That triggered a vague memory of something he’d heard about the people from Koban, something about how they helped the PU win the war with the alien Krall. The Krall invasion had been on the far side of Human Space from Chisholm, and had barely any impact on life here. He didn’t want to sound ignorant and just ask him what he meant. He and most of the men with him today called themselves natives of Chisholm, by right of birth here.
Jace hadn’t been born here, and he’d arrived some years ago from another Rim World. He had two murder warrants for his arrest that eventually followed him here, issued by his former colony home of New Australia, a notorious Rim World that had organized crime families in its larger cities. The warrants were ignored by the courts here due to a lack of an extradition treaty, and frankly, they became his job references for the CCA.
Ethan grinned. “I think, unless you’re stupid Jace, you’ll figure out the distinction the instant you meet her. I don't suggest you disturb her from her nap, however. She’s very cantankerous when you do that.” There wasn’t a chance in hell Kit wasn’t already awake and listening, but he was setting the stage, and prodding back at Jace.
Claghorn suddenly reappeared at the cantina door, declaring the result of his vital bit of detective work. “Thar ain’t no back door sheriff! Ya got him bottled up now fer sure.”
“Hi there deputy,” acknowledged the one bottled up. “My sister and I were waiting right where I said we’d be. Only, you didn’t drive out as soon as you promised.”
Glancing around, Claghorn saw only the one man, sitting with his feet propped up on a table. “I don’ see yer sister.”
Jace, who was not much of an intellect himself, had little patience with the half-wit. “Obviously, she ain’t in here stupid. The wise ass there says she’s sleeping in the back room.”
Claghorn, stinging from being called stupid, wanted to show his worth to his boss. “Want me ta go an git ‘er sheriff?”
“Clyde, that won’t be necessary.” Mackinnon answered, just as Ethan said, “I don’t advise you to go bothering her deputy. I’ll call her out here if the sheriff needs to talk to her. She has cat-like reflexes, and you could get yourself scratched something awful if you come up on her in the dark.” That clinched it.
“I ain’t ‘feared a no filly,” he asserted, moving around the table.
Ethan warned him again. “She’s a lot bigger gal than you are deputy. I strongly recommend you stay out here, safe with good old Jace here. He’s not terribly bright either, but he isn’t dumb enough to go walking into a dark room where a tigress is sleeping.” He smiled at the facetious sounding remark, knowing his phrasing had also pissed off Jace.
Jace reacted about as Ethan expected. Angry. But he didn’t move towards the closed door as Ethan had half expected. Instead, he said, “Go drag her out here Clyde, if you’re man enough.” Then, he pushed past the sheriff’s outstretched arm that vainly tried to restrain him, moving closer to the smiling younger man. The not terribly bright remark had done its work.
The sheriff tried something more convincing to head off a confrontation. “He isn’t even armed Jace. There are too many witnesses to that fact. No gun play.”
Sneering, Jace said, “I don't need a gun for this young puke.” He stepped to the opposite side of the table where Ethan had his feet propped. He placed a hand on the side edge of the table and violently shoved it towards the wall. It slid, banging into several chairs and knocking them over before striking the wall. He was ready to sucker punch the man as his unsupported feet dropped to the floor, pulling his body forward when his chair came down on four legs.
Only the feet didn’t drop a millimeter, the chair remained tilted back with Ethan grinning, his hands still clasped behind his head with elbows out, perfectly balanced on two chair legs. His legs were crossed at the ankles, and stayed raised with his torso the counter weight.
It startled Jace, and he stood confused for the moment, his right arm pulled back for a punch to a face that didn’t come towards him, as gravity seemed to require.
Ethan, quickly and gracefully, shifted his body position as he uncrossed and drew his legs smoothly back and lowered his arms, keeping the chair balanced on its two back legs. He placed his feet down at the sides of the chair and stood straight up in place, as his left hand lowered to grasp one chair arm, setting it swiftly to the side. He was still five feet from Jace, out of range of a punch. The young man had moved so fast and gracefully, it appeared as if it had been choreographed. He was also at least three inches taller than Jace, but didn’t look as thick in the body.
Ethan stood calmly beside the table that held his beer bottles, arms down at his sides, still wearing that irritating smile.
The momentary spell was broken, and Jace quickly took a long step, prepared to unleash the telegraphed punch from his cocked right arm. Ethan stood there, not moving a muscle. Any ordinary man would have started dodging away or preparing to deflect the coming punch. An experienced fighter would prepare to deliver a counter blow to an attacker that left himself so open.
Ethan wasn’t an ordinary man, and he was more than an experienced fighter. He was Kobani.
Jace’s fist came at Ethan in what seemed like slow motion to Ethan’s superconducting nervous system. He waited until the punch, with the man’s full body weight behind the shoulder and still extending arm, was only six inches from his left jaw.
Then, with a movement that was literally a blur to a normal human’s perception, he raised his left hand to a position an inch from his cheek. He then used his carbon fiber supplemented muscles and dense carbon nanotube bone composition, and quickly shoved his flat palm the last two inches towards the oncoming fist. Hard!
He put deceptive force into that short looking movement, which also happened faster than a normal human’s senses could detect, and met the oncoming regular flesh and bone with improbable force.
He could have merely caught the hand and held it in a grip the other man would be unable to break. Except, the same superconducting nervous system powered his though processes, and he had analyzed that he needed to do more than hold Jace, because there were other men in the room with guns, and Jace would certainly try to use his left hand to cross over and reach for his own weapon. The carefully considered decision was made, and Jace would drink and eat one handed until he healed. His left hand would soon be too busy to reach for his gun, because it would be otherwise occupied, conducting a personal mission of mercy.
To the others watching, it seemed like Jace had just punched a brick wall, except irresistible brick walls aren’t coming at you at ten times the speed of a haymaker punch. The crack of snapping bones in the hand, fingers, and wrist was loud, as the man’s arm was slammed backwards. The force tore muscles in his forearm and bicep, damaging his rotator cuff at the shoulder and tore the long biceps tendon.
Jace recoiled, and slowly collapsed to his knees with a gasp of sobbing pain and a moan he could barely get out, supporting his right forearm with his left hand, placed behind the dangling broken wrist and hand. He’d spend a day or two sleeping in a med lab at night, while bones knit, but by the looks from the other men watching him; he’d need a lot longer to repair the damage to his tough man reputation, as tears from pain trickled down his dusty cheeks.
It had happened so fast, that McKinnon and Cliff weren’t sure what they’d seen, since Ethan’s hand seemed magically to appear in front of his left jaw, exactly as the punch arrived. They hadn’t detected the return irresistible hand slap, and they certainly didn’t suspect the nearly unbreakable dense bone structure or the heavy gravity reinforced musculature responsible for delivering the damage.
Ethan looked innocent as he sa
id, “Wow, he threw a really hard punch. I’m glad I managed to get my hand up in time.”
McKinnon was about to say something when the sound of a creaking hinge behind Ethan caught their attention. Without turning to look, Ethan repeated his warning. “There’s a tiger lady in there. You’d better stay out here deputy, in the light where you’re safe. Let me call my sister out here for you, so you don’t get hurt.”
Fat chance of him doing that now, he thought. But the skinny man did pause briefly, after opening the door just a crack into the darkened windowless room.
While the deputy received his warning, Cliff moved around the sheriff to check on his fellow gunslinger. Not that he particularly liked the other man, but he knew it was expected of him. The four deputized men outside crowded up to the cantina door to see what had just happened. These were ordinary cowhands, earning a bit of extra pay for a half day of what they expected to be easy work.
They knew Claghorn was practically the village idiot, who only had a badge because his rich and powerful uncle got him a job where most people wouldn’t risk picking on him. Today, they were using his typical “the sky is falling” attitude to make a few extra credits as deputies. Drinking money for tonight.
McKinnon, secretly pleased that Jace was hurt, nevertheless worried that the man’s bosses, Nathaniel Egerton, who owned the Double T ranch, or Janek Gregos of the Lazy S, would hold him somehow responsible for Jace’s injury. Either of those two wealthy men could cost him his well-paid job. There were plenty of people ready to step in as the Cayuga sheriff, willing to place those two rich men above the law, or do that for any of the richest cattlemen on the planet for that matter. The CCA’s Kingsland headquarters was right here in Cayuga.
Koban Universe 2: Have Genes, Will Travel Page 7
