Firestorm: Galaxy On Fire, Book 3

by Craig Robertson

  “What are you doing, alien scum?” growled a voice, snapping me back to the here and now. I had company.

  “Laundry.”

  “No, what are you doing here?” he repeated gruffly.

  “I’ll try another word. That one’s too big. I’m washing clothes with soap and water to make them clean.” I smiled real big.

  He palmed his pistol.

  “You are not authorized to be here.”

  “I most certainly am.” It was fun to finally dig in my heels a bit.

  “There’s a laundry service. Why are you doing it?”

  “Because they might be good enough for your uniforms, but not Group-Single Fuffefer’s. Hence I’m here washing them.”

  “How dare you speak to me so insolently. You will die for that insult.”

  I had already noted that this wanker was three ranks below my boss’s. “Then you going to take my place as his Descore? Hmm?”

  That stopped him. “I am Adamant. I could never act as Descore. How stupid are you?”

  “’Bout that stupid, I guess. So, unless you want to wear an apron in front of your former friends, I suggest you do us both a favor and chill out.” I returned my attention to my handheld.

  “You will not get one over on me, scum. You’ll pay for this affront.”

  “Wow. Affront. Now there’s a big word. See, I knew you had literacy in you. And, note to self. You used scum twice successively. Poor form. Try to be more creative when putting others down. Maybe call me whore-spawn, that’s a good one. Universal too.”

  That did it. He lunged for my throat. If I was still human, I’d have had a hundred pounds on him. As it was, I had nearly three hundred. Brave little pup, this one. And as smart as he looked.

  I spun out of my chair as he hit. He crashed into a stack of crates, most of which then fell on him.

  “Can I offer you a hand getting up?” I asked helpfully, holding out an arm.

  He batted the boxes every which way and rolled free of them. He stood on all fours and charged, low to the ground and fast. I backed up to the wall. As he leapt at me, I jumped up. He slammed hard into the steel wall and slumped to his butt, sitting. I pushed off the wall with one arm to land behind him.

  Turning, I said, “Man, that had to hurt. Can I get you a drink of water or something?”

  While waiting for his response or next attempt, a voice from behind shouted. “What’s going on here?” I spun to see an officer pointing his sidearm at me.

  I put my hands in the air. “It’s my fault,” I said quickly. “I was doing laundry and must have spilled some soap. This guy was passing through and slipped. I think he’s okay, except for the swelling and the blood. I’m sorry.”

  My adversary was stirring. He wobbled to standing and noticed the officer.

  “Is that what happened, Juyrot? You slipped on soap?”

  Juyrot strained to regain both balance and focus. He shook his head hard. “No, Group Captain, it is not. Th…this alien insulted me and I was making him p…pay.”

  “Hmm. You look like the one doing the paying. Alien,” he snapped at me, “why did you lie to me? You must know the penalty for lying.”

  “I assume it’s death. That’s seems to be the one size fits all answer. I didn’t want any trouble.”

  “Did you insult Juyrot here?” he gestured at him with his weapon.

  “Depends on who you ask, I suppose.”

  “I’m asking you. You’d best take this situation seriously. Did you insult him?”

  “It certainly wasn’t my intention. I answered his questions and tried to make suggestions where I felt they might help.” I shrugged.

  “I’ll take that to mean yes. And you, Juyrot, what did you do to make him feel he needed to insult you?”

  Juyrot’s head was clearing. “Me? I did only my duty to the empire, as always. I questioned this alien scum as to why he was here. That started it.”

  After he said scum, I cleared my throat loudly.

  “And maybe you addressed this alien as scum?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “That is unprofessional and unwise. He works under the protection of a Group-Single. What will he say when he learns a junior officer feels it’s okay to insult his property?”

  A chill settled into Juyrot’s expression. I could almost hear the oops that was dawning on him.

  “Yes. He’d be displeased. He’d be forced to save face by removing yours, Juyrot.”

  I’d learned that was a quaint Adamant custom in such situations. Charming lot, those pups.

  “I suggest you return to your quarters, Juyrot, and you collect your laundry and return to yours, slave. I expect to hear not one further word about this incident from either of you. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Group Captain Harhoff.” With that he skulked away, compressing a couple bleeding lacerations on his scalp.

  “No problem, sir,” I said with a salute. “My lips are sealed.”

  He started to say something, but doubt flashed across his face. He holstered his pistol and left without another word.

  SEVENTEEN

  Fentort opened the front door so quickly one might have thought he was standing with a hand poised over the handle when the knock sounded. He briefly and judgmentally eyed the caller up and down. “You’re back,” he said in his best bored-butler’s tone.

  Jon Ryan pushed past his with a shoulder a bit too forcefully delivered. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean. You weren’t working here last time I came,” he spat gruffly. “Might not have been born yet.”

  “Your sense of humor has lost none of its bit. It’s still also still impenetrable. Shall I ask if Lady Caryp will see you?”

  “No. You can go fuck yourself, but please don’t haul that old witch from her tomb. I’m here to see my brood’s-mate. Where is she?”

  “I’m certain I don’t know to whom you are referring to.”

  Jon slapped the butler hard across the face, much too powerful a blow for so fragile a senior. “Does that jog your memory, you old fool? Where’s Sapale?”

  Fentort stood straight, as if nothing had happened. “If you are not here to see Lady Caryp, I must ask you to leave.”

  “You stupid, ugly, and deaf? I can beat you until you tell me if you’d prefer it that way.” Jon smiled a vicious smile. “I think I might sort of prefer it myself.”

  “I’m right here, you spawn of Brathos. You touch that sweet old man again and I’ll end you.”

  Jon turned to see Sapale standing across the room. She was pointing a blaster at his head.

  “Welcome home to you too, sweetheart,” he snarked.

  “I’m not welcoming you. I’m not your sweetheart. I thought we went over this not three months ago.”

  Jon jiggled his head randomly in disbelief. “Are you all fucking insane in this house? We haven’t talked in a few years. Not since you deserted the defense of Azsuram, bitch.”

  She furrowed her brow and blinked all four eyes incredulously. “Jon? Is that you?”

  “I’m about to start killing people. You’re not funny, and I’m getting really pissed. You know I’m your brood-mate, you batty lunatic.”

  “On Davdiad’s life, are you the Jon Ryan I’ve suffered with these last couple of billion years?”

  “What is wrong with you? Of course, I am. In fact, news flash, I’m the only one. I killed the other android me. He showed up on Azsuram, and I wasted him,” he said with hateful bravado.

  “He showed up here too. News flash, it was after you zapped him to Earth. It didn’t even take him a month to make it here after you pulled that stunt.”

  “What? No way. You’re lying, bitch. Why are you lying to me?” Despite the blaster, he moved toward her menacingly.

  “One more step, and I’ll have my best day ever,” she stated flatly.

  He jerked to a halt. “What? You wouldn’t shoot, babe. Not me.”

  She didn’t answer. She didn’t flinch. She just kept the pistol pointed at his forehe
ad.

  “Then again, I’ve been wrong about women before, haven't I?”

  “Why are you here?” demanded Sapale.

  “I missed you,” he replied, blowing her a kiss.

  The plasma bolt she fired scorched his hair but didn’t strike his skin. She moved her aim back to dead center.

  “I need help. Back on Azsuram, the other Jon brought…”

  “A couple Deft. Yeah, I know. He told me. Why don’t you leave them alone?”

  “Leave them alone? You are nuts. I need the Deft, you know that.”

  “I know you want them, though I don’t know why. From what Jon said, they’re nice kids. Leave them alone.”

  “Leave them be? They’re the only two left. I need them.”

  “Why. Please tell me. You dragged me from one end of the galaxy to the other but never told me why.”

  He scuffed a boot toe on the floor and looked down. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me,” she challenged harshly.

  “No. You would not understand. You’d disapprove if you did, so why the hell bother?”

  “I’d like to say it’s been wonderful seeing you again, but it hasn’t. It’s been nauseating. Leave and never darken my doorstep again.”

  He grinned. “No can do. I need help. You were my last choice, trust me. I need to get the Deft back from the Adamant. You’re going to help me.”

  “Oh. Fine. Can I take a minute to grab my coat and get my toothbrush?” She pointed her free hand over her shoulder.

  “Funny as always, but you are coming. I know I can’t get aboard an Adamant ship by myself.”

  “But you think two idiots might?” She chuckled without humor.

  “I’m not brimming with choices. With you, my odds of success are doubled.”

  “And the reason that bobs around in your soupy head that explains why I might come is what?”

  “You have no choice.”

  “Ah. It’s good to confirm you’re still out of touch with reality.”

  “The question of my sanity aside, you are coming. You need me. I have all the supplies you need to continue to function. Fuel canisters, spare parts, and that special lubricant only I can provide.”

  “I don’t need spare parts. I just need you to leave.”

  “You may think you don’t, but you will. You know that.”

  “I would need them if I wished to continue to function. I do not. Plus, as you are likely aware, the Adamant are not far from invading. I pray to Davdiad I may fall defending my home.”

  She’d called his bluff. “That’s romantic gibberish. Get over yourself.”

  “I’m not coming, but you are leaving.” She waved the gun toward the door.

  “I could make you. I could use magic to send you wherever I’m going.”

  “Yes, you can. And there I’d be holding this same gun. And I’d put a hole in your brain case so large there’d probably be nothing but sparks left. You can’t magically stop me from doing that.”

  “Honey, I need you. We’re a team. I’ll forgive you deserting me, and I’ll be a better man. I promise.”

  “Yes, no, I don’t care, and that’s not possible.”

  “Huh?”

  “Those are my responses to your four remarks. But I do have good news. If you’re not out that door in ten seconds, I will render you permanently worry free.”

  “Aw come on.”

  “One…two …”

  “You are going to regret this insult. I will make you pay.” He shook a fist at her.

  “Three…five…eight …”

  He slammed the door behind him just as she said ten and relaxed her trigger finger.

  EIGHTEEN

  The next few weeks were crushingly dull for the teens. Occasionally, Doctor Pastersal would summon them and do some tests. A blood draw, a skin biopsy, maybe a dental exam. But it was all very minimal, and none of the exams were painful or dangerous. Mirri figured that either he had no idea how to find out what they’d been tasked to learn or he was unwilling to act without Malraff’s participation. If he discovered something and outshone her, it would be fatal for him. If he worked hard and found nothing, he’d document his own incompetence. If he damaged the teens, there would be a race between the emperor and Malraff to do him in. He was probably choosing cautious non-productivity His excuse for lack of progress could be all the time he devoted to the moribund Malraff.

  Whatever those reasons, the teens had nothing to do. Their bones ached they were so bored. Their servants tried to entertain them, or where possible, bring them material to watch or read. But either the pickings on Dare Not were slim, or the crew had no desire to help the prisoners. The sparse meals and their own conversations were the only breaks in the dullness of their lives. They fabricated playing pieces from some of the games from Locinar, but when the guards found them, they were confiscated. Even cards were forbidden “for security reasons.”

  Mirraya was relieved one day when a guard arrived and unlocked her door.

  “Where are we going?” she asked almost cheerfully.

  “You are coming with me,” was his response.

  “Certainly, but where are you taking me?”

  “Where I am told to. Shut up and move.”

  Their short walk ended at a door Mirri was unfamiliar with. There was no identification to suggest what was inside. The guard whispered something into the microphone he had clipped to his shoulder, then stood like a statue. Mirri considered asking him what was up but knew the answer would be insufficient, so she simply stared at the door.

  With no signal, it hissed quietly open. Mirri was struck by a wave of hot air wafting out, striking her like a strong wind. It smelled antiseptic and highly medicinal.

  “Inside,” said the guard.

  Once inside, the door closed with the guard on the outside. The room was almost pitch black. Mirri saw a tiny white light on the far side of the room giving off less light than a candle. It disclosed the presence of no one else. Then a shadow moved indistinctly near the light.

  In a parched, raspy voice, the shadow said, “Come closer, child.”

  She took a few tentative steps, hoping not to trip over an unseen obstacle. In fact, she did kick something, maybe a chair leg, but didn’t fall.

  “Come to the light,” said the impossibly scratchy, throaty voice. “I want to see your face as we talk.”

  Mirri was certain she’d never hear that voice before. It wasn’t one easily forgotten. She stopped when her face was right next to the tiny LED light.

  “Ah,” grated the voice, “it is good to see you look well.”

  “Thank you,” she said, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

  “And me, how do I look?” The voice took on an even more strained quality. It was the voice of the dead.

  “I can…I can’t see you really,” sputtered Mirri. Something was wrong here, frightfully wrong.

  “I guess my eye has grown used to the dim light. How hard can it be to please as I only have one of them left?” The voice croaked a husky, mirthless laugh.

  Mirri opened her mouth to reply but realized she had no response.

  “Here,” the hoarse voice said as the speaker stained to rise. A light clicked. Malraff sat crooked in her bed, hunched over. She struggled to keep her head up high enough to see Mirraya. It bobbed like a balloon in the wind and would have seemed comical were it not so grotesque. “There, that’s better.”

  Mirri screamed in her head that it very much wasn’t better.

  Malraff recognized the look on Mirraya’s face. “Do I look that frightening due to your handiwork, child? Hmm? I must trust your opinion. Perhaps my doctor has been misleading me as to my cosmetic progress.” She snickered, but her nostrils were so swollen that she sounded like a party favor.

  She rested back against a lump of pillows, wincing in pain for her effort. “They tell me I’m lucky to be alive. Did you know that? I lost my blood volume three times over before that idiot physici
an finally stopped the bleeding. He had to bring in a holo-specialist to repair the damage you did to my guts. That fellow said it looked like a grenade went off. Fortunately, I was never much of a foodie, so my new limits will be easily tolerated, thank you very much.” She looked up at Mirraya. “Not much of a conversationalist, are you?”

  “I have nothing to say,” she replied bravely.

  Malraff angled her head. “Understandable. Say, do you want to hear something funny? I know I love a good joke. Do you know why you were able to change into that vicious beast and nearly kill me?”

  “No.”

  “The battery in my controller died.” She barked a painful laugh. “Yes, I didn’t notice the little red light was flashing. I thought I had switched on the stasis unit just before I opened the door that day. But it never switched on, and I didn’t double check. So, you see, child, it was my fault you ravaged me. Yes. My own stupid mistake.”

  “If you expect me to apologize, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “Noooo. Why would I expect an apology from you? If our places were switched, I’d have tried to kill you. No, I made a foolish error and I paid an appropriate, fair price.”

  “S…so, you’re not mad at me? You’re not going to punish me cruelly for my attack?”

  “Now why would you expect that from me?”

  Mirri started to relax her tense shoulders.

  “Of course, I will extract my revenge from you and the pitiful male of yours.”

  Mirraya’s shoulders snapped back to maximal tightness.

  “But you said you understood, it was your mistake, that you’d have done the same, in fact.”

  “True, true, and true. But, don’t forget, I’m a heartless bitch. I’m a killer. It’s what I do. No, you and your pet will suffer like no souls have ever suffered before. The fact that I can do whatever unthinkable atrocity I want to and you’ll repair it so easily is the one thing that’s kept me going. That knowledge has given me the strength to hang on.” She coughed violently, trembling in agony with each muscular contraction. “In fact, I must thank you for showing me firsthand new forms of pain I did not know existed. Yes. I can now try to duplicate on you what you have suffered on me. Isn’t that marvelous?”