Magician Interrupted

by S. V. Brown

Chezza shrugged. “No idea.” He smacked him on the head.

  Paris rubbed his sore head. “The marines, or rather the commander obviously doesn’t care about aggravation.”

  “She likes that marine show where the old ex-gunny slaps all his team around.”

  Kabab raised his voice, “Na, she just likes the ex-gunny actor.”

  Paris sighed.

  They settled down and Paris dozed after reading a little when they were told to go to the toilet. “Take a piss, boys, and chick. We’re on in thirty.”

  One by one they filed at the back to use the tiny room. Paris wiped his hands and headed back out. Path squealed when she got there. “You pigs! I should have gone first.”

  Paris sat down quickly knowing what was coming next while the others moved to her. He hid his smiles and strapped back in.

  “I want that cleaned. Now!”

  “Look, kitty cat…” Jackson said thinking something was really wrong. Paris glanced behind as their leader poked his head in to the bathroom. “It’s not that—”

  “I SAID NOW, MARINE!”

  Paris removed his fingers from his ears and heard commotion as they cleaned the toilet for Path. While he resumed reading Path was shrieking instructions making sure it was up to her standards.

  After twenty they entered Tasia’s atmosphere and were jerked around in their seats again. There was a final clump and thump and the hatch opened. By this stage they had all unbuckled and collected their gear. Paris found every movement a struggle.

  “Activate your antigrav suits.”

  Paris barely managed to lift his arm to try to press the soft button on his shoulder pad.

  “Shit, man, you aliens are weak.” Kabab pressed it for him.

  Jackson pressed Path’s for her. In the dim light provided by the ranger she batted her eyelids at him. As they moved past Paris hissed, “What are you doing flirting on the mission? Let Jackson concentrate, our ruddy lives are at stake.”

  She blushed. “Oops. I’ve never been in this form for as long.”

  Paris’s mind went blank before the panic set in. “Will that be a problem?”

  She avoided his eyes. “We have to go.”

  It was dark and silently they ran out and took up position. They waited while the capsule took off and was parked in low orbit … apparently.

  They moved through the jungle and saw movement to their right. Paris peered through the thick, wet foliage. It looked like bodies were being moved. Path was nodding at something. Paris adjusted his earpiece. Her voice came through.

  “The way’s been cleared, we’re good to go.”

  At Jackson’s hand signal they moved in and along a narrow stream. Every now and then they crouched. At one point Kabab bumped in to him. He whispered, “You’re freakin’ quiet, alien. I take you were a part of the trap section as well back on your planet?”

  “Yeah,” Paris drawled lying. He might have bound the quiet spell too hard to his feet. At times he felt like he wasn’t even touching the ground. When Kabab slapped him he almost fell over.

  Paris couldn’t see Messma at all, even when right in front. The dark skin blended in with the dark night and shrubbery. They all had masks and crap but he could see … shit, emerald eyes glowing.

  He tried to get Path’s attention.

  “What the fuck is that!”

  “Keep your voice down, Kab.”

  “Yeah, but boss, there’s a freakin’ cat next to you.”

  “What? Don’t be stupid. Path is here. Is there a cat?”

  To Paris’s relief she said, “No.” And her eyes narrowed to reduce the glow.

  “Right, move in.”

  They saw a single level building with cleared grounds all around. They were cut off from the general announcement so they weren’t distracted by those mopping up the dead bodies. Paris reached the door and kept his weapons pointing out while the others filed through the doors. He was tapped on the shoulder and he moved in. They made a sweep and set about cleaning the blood and righting furniture.

  “Oh, shit. Top dog?”

  Jackson strolled over to Chezza who was looking at something on the wall. “We have a problem?”

  “Yeah, us being the smugglers.”

  “Intel said that the buyers never meet…”

  “Yeah, but they aint human. These dudes have special vocal cords.”

  Jackson studied them again. “You’re right.”

  Paris was staring at Path who had opened her mouth. She closed it. Jackson had turned back and noticed. “Paris?”

  He looked at Jackson. “Nothing.”

  Path struggled and then said, “I can make voice boxes. I am the comms techy chick.”

  Paris scowled at the guys who migrated to her.

  Jackson said, “You little gem.”

  Paris left the room disgusted as they gushed over her. He was supposed to be the hero! He stomped through to his allocated room and threw himself on the bunk. After several minutes Path snuck in and closed the door.

  “Paris?”

  He felt sulky. “What?”

  “I need you to cast a spell to the thing I make.” She sat down next to him and placed a tiny hand on his arm. She still looked tiny in her anti-grav suit while he felt like a bulky lump.

  “What’s your plan?”

  “I’ll make up a little voice alternating device, three of them since the conference calls were always with three, strap it around their necks, and you, as the medic checks it.”

  As far as plans went it wasn’t bad. “Fine.”

  “Don’t you want this mission to succeed, Paris?”

  “Yes, I want it to succeed. We are actually doing good here.” He turned his head to her. Catching the ring of smugglers would stop many more from dying. “This was my chance to get away, make a life, be someone.”

  Her little face fell. “And I spoiled it.”

  “No, not spoil. You’re a cat. You won’t understand.”

  “Paris—”

  “Just leave. I don’t even know why you are here. I’m sure Jac—”

  When her lips locked on to his he couldn’t think. He was so dazed that he allowed her to continue until finally he could respond. When she lifted her head she was smiling.

  “I’m here because I love you.”

  Paris started laughing.

  “Wasn’t that nice?” She touched her pink lips.

  He touched her round face. “Yes, that was nice. But the reason I joined the marines was to find myself a girl who’d like me. Instead she came with me. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Because I was mostly a cat. Since taking this form I’ve grown a different attachment and I wanted to make sure it was you I liked.” She blushed. “Especially after that drooling incident where I was actually thinking of you on stage.”

  Paris sat up and helped her up. He felt better joining the marines now. He owed them. “Come on. You’ve got those things to make.”

  She smiled her Cheshire cat smile and moved with him. He leaned down and whispered when her hand was on the door handle, “I love you too.”

  If he was a true marine he’d be thinking of what other handle he’d like that small hand on. No, he was thinking of those things! He truly was a marine now as his world was filled with bravado and double meanings.

  Before he could laugh at himself Path flung her arms around him. “I’m sorry I dug my claws into your head.”

  He chuckled. “I lived. I’ll need a recording of their voices. Can you fit that into your plan?”

  “Sure can!”

  After Path attached the last device on Jackson Paris inspected the item and touched both it and the neck it was attached to. He bound the spell and the guys walked around testing their new voices.

  At the right time they sat in front of a monitor.

  At first the buyers didn’t want to talk without image but they didn’t want to lose out on their supplies. They agreed on a pick up date and ordered some extra supplies as well.

&nbs
p; Paris and Path became familiar with the storeroom in case any last minute things were requested. After that they all had two days.

  On the day Paris and Path were to remain in the back and help with supplies while Jackson, Chezza and Messma negotiated.

  Kabab’s was the main stalker.

  Well, that’s what Path called him. He stalked around doing recons in the jungle worried about the cats. They sat in the supply room waiting. A tablet sat on Path’s legs so that when Jackson called—

  “Do you think of O’rah, Gareth or Harro?”

  “No. Do you?”

  “No, they didn’t like me anyway. O’rah complained about the cat hair all the time … and spray.”

  Paris tried not to laugh. “I remember. You seemed to only do that when she was home.”

  Path giggled and then touched her device. “We’re on. Everyone ready?”

  Paris saw Path nodding.

  They all checked in.

  “What’s happening in there?” Path asked, curiosity killing her.

  “I’d imagine no news is good news… Path!” He snuck with her and they peered through a crack in the counter.

  “Where are the amigos?” A rough voice was asking.

  They couldn’t see him.

  “We’re the amigos now, comrade.” Jackson said in a voice not his own and not from the device. “We’ve always run these operations. How do you think you’ve been getting such classy supplies?”

  “Ah, we had wondered.”

  “We’re expanding our operations like the Robin Hood legends. Except we’re stealing from the establishment and giving to the rebels.”

  “Long live the revolution!”

  Paris felt sick.

  Path’s eyes widened and she turned from the scene. “I’m going to… Those bastards!”

  Paris held her hands. “We just need to get out of here.”

  They snuck to the back and tried the door. Just as they opened it Messma loomed over them.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Spell Ten – Healing Act

  Paris pushed Path behind him.

  Messma said, “One of the crooks is hurt. We’ve gotta heal him. They put him in the medic’s ward.”

  “I thought we didn’t heal the enemy?” Paris’s suspicions were mounting.

  “Don’t be stupid. We just want you to knock him out. We need the transaction to go through before we can move in.”

  “Oh. Right. We’ll take care of it.”

  “Good, I’ve got the ground and roof top crawling with bastards.” He pulled out a knife.

  Paris said, “Good hunting.”

  Messma grinned at him. “Now you’re a marine who watches the good shows.”

  He and Path moved to the medic’s ward.

  “Cloud his mind, Path.”

  Her little round face grew hard with concentration and then she nodded. “He’s under.”

  Path looked him over noting a bite mark on his neck. It was swollen and his lips slightly blue.

  In his ear Chezza’s voice was loud, “We need that fucker back. They aren’t moving until they see him. Shit, Paris. We’re dead.”

  “Relax, I’ve got it.”

  Whatever Chezza was going to say Paris cut him off.

  Path put a hand on his arm. “Are you sure? It could be an act?”

  He had considered it. They didn’t really know anything about the marines or their unit or who was running the ranger. They were just two small nobodies taking orders. But he wasn’t responsible for that. Paris debated on getting he and Path out but he knew there was another option.

  “Get your dagger out, and mine. Place it around my waist somewhere. If we’re wrong we’ll have to fight our way out.”

  “I trust you.”

  Paris raised his hands, recalling the best incantation for bites and anaphylactic reactions. Power surged from him and into his hands down to the male. He bound the spell to the male and watched as color improved and breathing eased. Slowly the muscles twitched and eyes opened.

  Paris nodded to Path who cleared the smuggler’s mind. The smuggler got up and walked, a little unsteadily, back into the main room. They walked out and back to the supply room. Path checked her tablet seeing a number of orders.

  “We’re going to kiss you, alien. When this is over.”

  Paris touched his ear and laughed, filled with relief.

  He helped Path and they bundled up the items shoving them through the hatch before closing it quickly.

  When Chezza came through he was holding a knife wound. Paris quickly eased him on the chair and attended to his wound, binding one of the spells he made to stem bleeding and begin knitting. He did inject real painkiller. They heard a massive explosion and the room shook. Paris and Path ran out with guns pointing and joined in. Paris hit one smuggler just as he was raising his gun while Jackson shot another about to hit Paris. Path was slicing the neck of another and Chezza staggered in to help.

  After the fight Paris quickly checked everyone over, ignoring the pleas from their enemy. Jackson smiled.

  “I’ll need you to save at least two for the trial.”

  Paris breathed out in relief.

  These were marines, and they were now his family.

  He didn’t feel such a nerd anymore. In fact, Messma was nerdier than he was but seemed comfortable in his skin.

  It took days to sort through the operation but another team moved in and they took their R&R on a little beach on another continent.

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you. We were short on the mission and I refused until we had full numbers.”

  “And now?” Paris asked, holding his breath trying not to look like a hopeful puppy.

  “Now, and it’s unanimous—” he looked at the others “—we want you to continue to be a part of our team.”

  Joy filled Paris. It wasn’t quite the life he was expecting and often moments were duller than watching paint dry, but when it came to it, he felt a part of something.

  “So, now you two are together we can’t have you working in the same squad, even though you seem a good team.”

  Path pouted and Paris saw her about to do one of her mind tricks. He shook his head slightly and she crossed her arms over her chest. She looked cute in her bathing costume.

  Jackson leaned forward across the little table and lifted his sunglasses so they could see his blue eyes full of mischief.

  “So, here are the choices. Path stays onboard the Yawka as mascot, where she was supposed to be. Or she joins another squad. No offence, Path, but we need Paris more—”

  Paris couldn’t help the warmth that flooded through him with that but Path looked happy for him.

  “—or, Paris, you’re the nominated leader next. You could make a little sub-clause hard-to-find in our rather lofty manual?”

  Paris chuckled.

  He knew what Path wanted.

  He knew what he wanted. “I’ll get to work on some alterations on the manual.”

  Path squealed and in a flash was on his lap. “We all make a good team.”

  “Marines, all the way!” Jackson yelled, slapping the table making their glasses rattle.

  “Oorah.”

  ***

  Twenty satisfying years later Paris and Path left the Yawka.

  Both were moody on the shuttle ride down.

  “But Paris without us they’ll keep doing stupid things and we won’t be there to help them.”

  “I know.” The last twenty years had been enlightening.

  “It’s our fault they are like that! They thought they were … are indestructible!”

  Paris groaned trying not to worry.

  They waited in the Career Worlds office on Flastion.

  A weedy looking male came out and his eyes kept blinking as if something was in them. “My name is Kevin. Emily tells me you want a change of career?”

  “No, I want to return to my old one.” Paris wasn’t so sure but he had things to finish. He’d hea
rd strange rumors coming from his planet.

  A frown appeared. “Let me call up your records. You were in the marines for twenty years but the contract you signed with Emily says that you are a part of CWs long term so you have another fifty years to go. So, back to the marines or a new career?”

  Paris groaned even as Path grinned. “My turn. I want to be a—”

  “Not so fast, pussy cat. We’re coming too.”

  They both turned to see Jackson, Messma, Chezza and Kabab grinning at the door. “We’re sick of the marines. Move over, let’s chat.”

  Paris glanced at Path. “Well, that solves one problem.” Paris wanted to argue with Kevin that Emily hadn’t been very clear. But there was a little nagging thought that maybe he hadn’t read that either in the contract.

  Kabab sat next to them and rubbed his hands. “How is space mining looking these days? Profitable?”

  “It’s one of the most dangerous professions. Let’s see—”

  Paris dragged Path over to the corner debating on what they should do. Kevin used the word “dangerous” on purpose he was sure of it! He knew it would appeal to the marines. All the while he saw the guys chatting with the advisor becoming more and more animated.

  “We can help them ease back into the real world, Paris. It is our fault.”

  “I want to talk to Emily again.” He wasn’t sure mining was the “real world”.

  “Paris! We need to resolve our current issue.”

  Paris saw Kevin pressing something under his desk. He frowned but Path was too busy trying to convince him to notice. They both turned at the ruckus the guys were making when three miners barged in, making the guys hoot in appreciation. The girls wore dark blue shirts with cleavage showing, tight shorts with assorted tools hanging off low leather belts and clumpy boots. Kevin developed a supercilious grin. Paris was shoved out the way and he tried to push back through. Paris opened his mouth. He was sure it was the same three girls that had visited Emily in Space Marine uniforms! But it was a different planet … as he dithered it was too late.