Mission: Attack on Europa

by V. A. Jeffrey

  And Genevieve and Diamond, well, I knew exactly what they wanted to do.

  This cantina or dynashan was yet a different one from the first one we'd visited a year ago. It was run by a short, rotund man, a former smuggler named Nicolai. He had a surprisingly large variety of ciders and beers on tap. I'd had plenty to drink and I wasn't done yet.

  “So how do you make all of them? Where do you get the water to brew them?” I asked. He gave me a wicked grin.

  “I'd be crazy to brew them. I have friends in the import/export business and a few who have their own breweries and mills,” he said. There was a trace of an Eastern European accent. He paused thoughtfully for a moment. “As for water, City Works has a number of good running water filtration and recycling centers here. They even have a lab where they create moisture to add to the underground water tanks in the city. It's called the Water Cycle Works.” Recycled water. Right. Yech! I thought, with unpleasant thoughts coming up. I brushed them away. Get over it, Bob. It was a beautifully run system. And absolutely necessary.

  “Beer and cider is on the house tonight! You boys and girls get any drink in the house for free! You saved our asses out here, and I thank you! Believe me,” he said and his smile was genuine. Nicolai had a balding head with black, mutton-chop side burns. He had large, dark merry eyes and he had under his apron a Belgian Percussion Dueling pistol strapped to his belly and a retrofitted laser rifle that he kept under the counter.

  “I have the single reputation of the best Earth-made beer on Mars!” He bragged.

  I liked this place. It was fast becoming my favorite place in town. Other patrons were slapping each other heartily on the back, laughing, singing or drinking. I ordered another tasting flight of about four different beers and went back to my table. I wondered what things looked like in Ophir. It lead me to wonder what Sworda was up to. Things were constantly in motion and he was now one of those in the forefront of great change. He had enemies in Syzygy I'd learned from listening to various conversations in the cantina; those who wanted to see him fail out of envy and others who had their own agendas, like the mysterious Furat. Sometimes who was an enemy and who was an ally wasn't always clear. It bothered me and I was worried for him. I didn't like gray areas. Shadows could hide there and pretend to be things they weren't. And that usually meant bad news. I wish you good fortune, my friend. I'm praying for you. I said silently. For he and his brother. Most of all, I hoped that the gristone sword would never end up in the wrong hands. If Tulos eventually didn't prove worthy of it, it should go to Karulu-Ri for safe keeping.

  It was getting unbearably hot in the cantina and more people were coming in. Two people had to be dragged out for fighting. Neither of them were a part of the battle of Europa. Quite a few looked askance at them.

  “In a time like this and all they can think of is fighting over petty grievances?” I heard a woman say. I made a tsking sound.

  “This is a grand celebration! People should be happy!”

  “Most are. It doesn't give us a reprieve from fools and their nonsense, though,” said Rychik, staring intently toward the door. I glanced behind me to see what he was staring at. That is when we saw our old “friends” from the Sigra gang suddenly walk in. Looking for trouble. They were looking straight at me and Rychik. I guessed they didn't realize or care that we were heroes of the day. They came and surrounded our table. Wisely, we'd left Will securely at the compound. Genevieve and Diamond were there with him. Rychik, however was with me. And he'd had a large bone to pick with these knuckle heads for a while. His eyes gleamed and a deadly stillness came over him. I don't think anyone else noticed it but I could feel it. He gave them all a steady, measured glance.

  I never really could figure out Rychik. He had a stillness to him that seemed to hide a lethal personality. You never knew what he was thinking. And I soon found out as well as these idiots did that he wasn't someone to fool with. But they seemed hellbent on trouble anyway. And they were drunk. I could smell them coming a league away. Never a good combination. What they didn't realize was we now had a lot of friends sitting at other tables. Araut and Tenar from our unit, as well as Sarah were there and they, along with a large handful of others, turned to watch, some getting up from their seats. I glanced over at the bar counter. The owner was looking straight at us. I didn't want any trouble but I had a few drinks in me and I wasn't about to back out of a fight, especially with two-bit hustlers with an overwrought sense of entitlement. This time I was the one to break the silence.

  “Lost something, fellas?” I asked sarcastically, rising from my seat. I was feeling buzzed and heady with glory. Five other pilots came to the table. Tenar had a wicked smile on her face and under her tentacles I saw long incisors bared as she lifted up a shot glass full of some alien liquor to her thin lips. Her hand was on her hip, near a small drive-stun taser. A pistol sat in a holster on her other hip. I'm not sure what these morons thought they were going to do, as everyone in the place was armed.

  “Think that's funny? 'Cause I don't. You took something of ours. We came to get it back.” Both Rychik and me glanced at each other in feigned surprised amusement. Rychik's face broke into something like a faint grin.

  “Is that right? Pot, meet kettle,” I said. Probably a little to loudly. “Help me out, fellas. What exactly do you mean, we took something of yours?” I decided to up the sarcasm-meter. The first man lifted a finger and poked me right in the chest.

  “You know what I'm talking about.”

  “No. We don't,” said Rychik. The cantina was growing noticeably quieter.

  “Don't touch me,” I growled. I felt my face growing hot.

  “I just did. Now-” and that was it. I swung my fist. It landed directly in his face catching him off guard. He stumbled and fell back into one of his comrades who tripped and fell back and the brawl was on. Except this time other patrons joined in. A chair flew past us, picked up by one of the gang members, it's leg hitting me in the shoulder and thumping to the floor. The table was overturned in the melee and I was hit with a beer glass but it hardly fazed me. I pounded my fists into the first guy until he was out. Rychik was a blur of action. He picked one of them up by the neck and threw him over a table. One of them landed a punch right in his back and he whirled around and landed a brutal kick to his face, landing him unconscious on the floor. Two of them fell upon him. He snatched one of them by the arm and bit off two fingers. The Suwudi screamed in agony, dark red blood spurting from his finger stumps. He collapsed on the ground, curled up like a fetus. Rychik turned on the other one who had attacked him. The Miku's eyes widened it seemed in fear. Rychik's ferocious attack took him by surprise, his fists smashing his face until blood ran from his nose. When Rychik was finished he was missing several tentacles and there were deep gashes cutting across his face welling up with dark blood. Blood, foam and mucus ran from his nose, cheek and torn tentacle appendages in rivers.

  Another one from the gang came at me gain after staggering to his feet as I had ducked and avoided a blow from a fat shard of broken glass from one of his Suwudi comrades. He came in only to bring a punch which landed in the air. I dove toward his legs, barreling into him. He and another crashed to the ground again. Rychik had another of them on his knees screaming, gouging out an eyeball with merciless efficiency. There were two loud shots from the bar.

  “Outside! Outside!” Nicolai was yelling. About thirty warriors and other patrons helped throw the goons outside. The poor bastards who still had their wits about them finally got up and ran, while their beaten friends were thrown unceremoniously out the door. They jumped into their speeders and sped off.

  “That'll teach 'em to mess with us!” I shouted.

  “I doubt fools like that learn anything, unless it's under the barrel of a lasgun.” rejoined Rychik. “Should have gotten rid of them all when we had the chance,” he said.

  “That's harsh, Rychik,” I said but he shook his head, his expression hardening. He gave me an appraising look.

&nb
sp; “What do you think will happen if they come upon you in some dark corner?”

  “They're cowards!”

  “They're killers. Many cowards are, if the opportunity arises. If you want to survive, you must be a killer. You have survive thus far because of Genevieve's sufferance,” he said. I scowled.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “If you were out here alone without our help, you would die like a dog. You don't have the killer instinct. If you insist upon coming here, you must develop it or you will die. You will die alone out here in the desert. Or in some filthy hole in this city. Luck will only take you so far.” He turned to face me fully, his voice now as hard as iron.

  “I am a killer. Because of that fact, I've survived here a long time. Not dealing with foes like the Sigra Ganag swiftly can and will be your undoing. I won't allow it to be mine.” He had a short, curved blade in his hand I hadn't noticed before that he wiped on his cloak and slid into a utility belt at his side.

  “I have business to attend to. Do you know how to get back to the compound?” He asked.

  “Yeah. It's close by here, isn't it? Where are you going?” I gave him a dubious stare. And I was now offended. He didn't answer my question.

  “Don't drink too much, Robert,” he said. He swept his cloak about him and hopped in his own personal speeder and flew off. Feeling slightly unsteady, I started off down the road toward my own speeder. I heard someone calling after me. I turned around. It was Tenar. She ducked and deftly avoided three small speeders swerving down from the low line of air traffic and made her way toward me.

  “Arrre you alrrright?”

  “Yeah. I'm fine.” I managed to give her a weak smile. She cocked her small, perfectly round head to the side. Her tentacles were up-swept toward her head and tied with metal rings.

  “Good. Stay alive. We need people like you, Earrrthlings like you, to help us out herrre on Yirrral.” I sensed warmness in her voice and rather liked the soft sound of her rolling rrs.

  “I'll do my best, commander.” I rather surprised myself. I was becoming a regular scoundrel myself. Hanging out with smugglers, fighting battles, bar fights, pulling off heists.

  “Just Tenarrr. We'rrre not on a mission.”

  “Thanks, Tenar. We all need each other in these times. How is Ven?”

  “He is recoverrring,” she said simply, but she smiled wide at my mention of his name. She put a hand on my shoulder. “Until next time.” Then she went back inside the cantina.

  The evening was getting on. The small pale sun was just beginning to set. There were no clouds over head. It was a beautiful evening and I wanted to enjoy it before I got ready to leave.

  Getting to my speeder I took out a helmet and put it in the seat next to me. I wanted to go just outside the city environmental dome to get away from the pollution of noise and lights, for a bit of star gazing. I was hoping to catch another aurora before I went home and I had my pin camera with me.

  I thought darkly on what Rychik said. I didn't like it. And I'd decided that I didn't really trust him either. But why? He'd helped me out well enough. More out of obligation to Genevieve, for some reason than for any love for me. I thought. I wondered about their history together. How did they become allies? Perhaps because of their shared history of battle. Of killing. I wasn't a killer. Though I had killed. Out of self-defense, not out of cold blood. I didn't care what anyone said, I saw no reason to develop a killer instinct. He doesn't know what he's talking about! Tulos wasn't like him. Or was he? No, Rychik was wrong, wrong, wrong! But maybe Rychik was right. Maybe I wouldn't survive. After the carefully planned mission, its unexpected victory of the long anticipated battle it made me angry that he could spread such a dismal gloom over things. I tried to shake his words away. But they played over and over in my mind like a relentless loop. Killer instinct. Killer instinct!

  “Stop it!” I yelled to banish the dark thought from my mind.

  As I headed for the open desert I glanced at the nav-computer on the deck. I tried to stretch my eyes. The screen seemed blurry at times, and shot with static. As I passed under a wide arch of red rock formations it seemed to break up. Odd. I didn't seem to recall such a group of rocks before on the western border of Syzygy.

  “What's the matter with this stupid thing?” I muttered.

  “Error.” The screen finally read in big red letters. I closed the navigator program off and then restarted it. I watched as it went through the start up protocol again hoping that this time it would come back on line cleanly. Yawning as it finally came back on line, I nearly crashed into a tall, sharp stela-shaped blade of rock coming up from the sand.

  “Whoa!” The scare immediately roused me out of my drowsiness. Suddenly, an alarm on the dash came on. I was running out of fuel.

  “Fuel lines leaking! Fuel lines leaking! Breakdown imminent!” Warned the general system computer.

  “What? This thing was full of fuel before I left the compound!” I was going way too fast. I saw another large rock right up ahead. My vehicle was speeding down toward it. I slammed on the brakes in a panic, swerving away, my eyes becoming blurred again. I still felt buzzed, my limbs unsteady. I managed to swerve just in time to avoid a head-on collision with the rock but the tail of my speeder hit another rock close beside it and caused me to spin out of control. The speeder toppled, end over end and finally tumbled down a crater, alarms blaring. Smoke rose and filled the inside of the speeder. Fuel had nearly all leaked out. I heard loud popping and cracking sounds inside the engine as if it had been hit with a micro-buster and the loud hissing of steam and then everything went black.

  . . .

  When I finally came to I saw some light but it was still mostly dark. I couldn't tell if it was still dusk or if it was dawn. I tried to move and felt my sense of balance tip over and upside down. The entire planet had shifted and thrown me down! I was dizzy and groggy. I stopped and breathed deeply, in and out for a few moments to get my bearings before trying to move again. When my brain had cleared a few of its cobwebs I discovered that I really was upside down. I gingerly reached my arm out to push the lock. The speeder was turned on its side. At first the hood didn't budge. It made hissing noises as it tried to open. I pushed the button harder and then I started banging on it out of frustration.

  “Warning! Breathable air leaking!” Came on the computer's alarm system. The hissing became louder and faster. Put your helmet on dummy! In a hurry I grappled for my helmet, seeing it beside me on the other side of the hood, and put it on. It finally shuttered open just as I had fastened it to my suit. My helmet registered that the air wasn't that cold. In fact, it was only fifty-six degrees Fahrenheit outside. I struggled to unstrap my harness, fumbling with it for sometime before I was finally free of it. I rolled over and dragged myself from the speeder until I was sitting in the sand. I looked around, studying my surroundings through bleary eyes. I could finally tell that dawn was just ascending. Are you kidding? I looked up at the sky, feeling out of sorts. Far off to the north I saw the faint, serpentine halo of bluish-green auroras flickering and winding through the sky. The stars were fading away but I saw what looked like a big blue star low on the horizon. Earth. I laid back in the sand to watch. Well, at least I got a chance to see the stars. I shivered involuntarily as the last swatch of stars disappeared in the low morning light.

  I finally made it to my knees. My head was swimming. I drank way too much booze last night, alien and man-made. What was I thinking? Oh right, I was celebrating a victory. I thought wryly. I'd been a fool to come out here, intoxicated. I crawled toward the speeder to try and right it again. Though it was small it was too heavy for one person to turn right side up again. I couldn't possibly move it. Sighing in frustration and cursing myself at my stupidity I dragged myself back inside to look for any supplies. Ah! There was my old atomic rifle which I'd taken from the Phoenix and put in the speeder before leaving the compound. Then I felt for my dragon lasgun. The holster was empty. I scrambled, looking in
side for more supplies to drag out. I found a small first aid kit, a bag of meal pellets and a canteen of water and moisture pills. There was also another canvas supply bag in the back of the seat. I dragged this out as well and stuffed the pellets and water into it, hoping I wasn't too far away from Syzygy. I attempted to turn the speeder on. The engine sounded as if it would start but wouldn't turn over fully. Before the nav-computer program petered out I could see registering on screen that I was only fifty miles out from Syzygy but I had gone way off course. Somehow being drunk, I had eventually gone north of the city, not south. How on Earth? I saw my repaired and cleaned laser dragon laying on the floor. I grabbed it and put it in my holster. I looked around for an extra canister of fuel. No dice there. I tried to get the speeder started again, hoping against hope that there was at least a tiny bit of fuel left. I tried and tried and tried until I cursed the speeder and kicked it hard with my boot.

  “Hot damn!” I shouted. To no one in particular. I wouldn't be able to tell my family or Big Boss of what transpired if I didn't get out of here. I kicked it again and fell backward into the air, bouncing against the side of the wall of the shallow crater my speeder had tumbled into and then settled back to the ground. Quickly, I had to fight the need to retch. I felt a feeling of panic rise in me. I was lost! Calm down, Bob. Let's think this out.

  I sat down in the speeder as my head started spinning again. After some time, the sun peeked over the horizon. My stomach had stilled, for now. Guess I'd better get walking. My helmet faceplate screen told me which direction I faced and the location, thankfully. I picked up my rifle and slung the strap over my shoulder with the bag and the kit under my arm. If there was a way station around here I would be able to drink my water and eat the pellets and get some rest. I was thankful for taking along a bunch of moisture pills the morning before but how far they would get me before my body cried out for water, I didn't know. I was sure there was a way station around here somewhere. There had to be. I remembered seeing a few on our first trip to Ophir. I looked around to make sure I hadn't left anything of value before starting off when I heard a long, wailing roar. The hairs on my neck stood straight up. I stopped breathing, turning around to listen again. Had I actually heard something or was I imagining things due to my hangover? No, you didn't hear anything, jackass! I backed out of the speeder on my hands and knees and stood up. Then I heard it again, the sound unmistakable and this time I was sure that I'd heard more than one.