The Imprisoned Earth

by Vaughn Heppner

  “Uh…n-n-no,” the bartender stammered.

  “You sure?” the weedy, shifty-eyed punk asked.

  “He said ‘no,’” I told the small man.

  The bruiser blinked at me, and I could see the barest tightening of his lips into a faint smile. “You starting something? Because if you are, I don’t like a bigger guy picking on a smaller person like my friend here.”

  I said nothing.

  “Did you hear me?” the bruiser asked.

  I still said nothing.

  “What are you doing?” Calidore said in my ear. “Stop this before it escalates. This is wildly reckless.”

  I had an epiphany, then. At cards, I had been hopelessly lost, thinking Calidore reckless. But the former mentalist had known gambling inside and out. Here, I knew the game backward and forward, but Calidore was lost.

  “I think you’re insulting me by your silence,” the bruiser told me, bringing me back to the present.

  I could feel eyes on me as others in the bar noticed the confrontation.

  “I’m going to give you a warning,” the bruiser said, and he poked a thick index finger against my chest.

  I reached up and grabbed his finger, yanking hard. He yelled in pain and lowered his head as he tried to pull away, and I kneed him in the face, causing his head to catapult backward.

  Then I faced the shifty little weasel as he drew a knife from his boot. My hand caught his wrist, and I shook it hard, making him drop the knife so it clattered on the deck.

  With a twist, I turned him, breaking his arm behind his back. I felt movement behind me, and shifted my head just in time. The bartender’s sap swished by.

  “Stop,” a woman said.

  I turned around, slapped the sap out of the bartender’s hand, grabbed his garment and yanked him over the bar toward me.

  “I said stop,” a feminine voice said. She jabbed the cold barrel of a pistol into my back.

  “Oh-oh,” Calidore said in my earbud.

  “Turn around slowly,” the woman said.

  I did, and my eyes must have widened in astonishment. Before me was a gorgeous redhead wearing heels, with eyes shining in admiration.

  “Schaine?” I said, shocked.

  “How do you know my name?” she asked suspiciously.

  I hesitated.

  “I’m chief of ship security,” she said. “And you’re…” The hint of a smile appeared. “You’re a tough one, aren’t you?”

  “I can whip anyone aboard the ship one-on-one,” I said. “I can probably whip any two men here, for that matter.”

  She nodded, and her obvious admiration grew. “I believe you. I like a man who can handle himself the way you do.”

  The bruiser groaned from on the floor.

  Schaine removed the gun from my back and kicked him in the side. “Wake up, Eban, and then go clean yourself up and move out of your quarters.”

  Eban looked up, startled, with a bloody nose.

  “You’re fired,” Schaine told him.

  “What? You can’t just—”

  He would have said more, but Schaine kicked him again, in the gut this time. “I told you you’re fired. You want me to kill you, too?”

  Eban didn’t answer.

  “Take your punk with you,” Schaine said. “Now,” she said to me. “What was your name?”

  “Jason Bain,” I said.

  Eban got up with a hangdog look. For a second, though, it seemed he would say something as his courage and outrage bubbled. He wouldn’t look at me, even though he tried. His shoulders sagged, and he took the whimpering punk with the broken arm. The two of them exited the bar.

  “He didn’t even try to fight for his position,” Schaine said with contempt, looking as if she wanted to spit on the floor. She turned back to me. “Jason, how about you buy me a drink? Then we can talk about you hiring on as ship’s muscle. I like a man who can handle anyone. What you just did in here—I’ve never seen anything like it, and I liked it,” she purred, running a finger down my chest.

  “Sure,” I said. “Why don’t we go sit over there,” I said, indicating a table near the wide-screen of the stars.

  And that’s how I re-met Schaine and earned passage aboard the Beran O as its resident muscle, among other things, to while away the hours as the cargo hauler headed for Oladahn Prime and its vaunted library of galactic lore.

  The End

  To the Reader: Thanks! I hope you’ve enjoyed The Imprisoned Earth. If you liked the book and would like to see more of Jason Bain and Doctor Calidore, please support it by putting up some stars and a review. Let new readers know what’s in store for them.

  —Vaughn Heppner