“Did I fall asleep?” she asked dreamily.
“Afraid so,” he agreed and then he kissed her on the cheek. “Come on, we’re almost to Earth. Up and at’em. For some reason, our captors have requested that we get into our Sunday best.”
“I don’t have any clothes,” she responded. “Just the T-shirts and pants you lent me.”
“That’s all I have too,” he said as he began to change. “But I’m going to wear my nicest T-shirt.”
Michelle’s voice took on a melancholy note and she asked, “Are we about to die?”
“I don’t think so,” he said.
“You’re just saying that, aren’t you?” she pointed out.
He shrugged. “We’re not dead yet,” he said as pulled a clean T-shirt on over his head. Seeing the look on her face, he walked over to where she sat on the bed and kneeled down so that they were looking eye to eye. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“You promise?” she asked, her large pretty eyes starting to water.
“I do,” he said. “And I keep my promises.”
“I know you do,” she said.
Five minutes later, everyone was awake, dressed and in their so called best. For the most part this involved different T-shirts, cargo pants, flights suits or camouflage, of course, but it was not like the Claymore had stopped by a good haberdasher on the way to wherever they were headed. By the time everyone was ready, Minerva advised them that there were two dozen men standing in the Claymore’s cargo bay.
“Alright, everyone,” Jennings said. “Let’s do this. Try to remain calm, and no one make a move until I do.”
Receiving confirmation from all of them, Jennings led them all down to the cargo hold and hit the button to open the cargo door and extend the ramp. Santelli’s men were waiting at the end of the ramp with weapons ready, one of them standing in front of the rest. There was something vaguely familiar to the man’s features, but the man turned on his heel before Jennings could say anything and beckoned for the crew of the Melody Tryst to follow. Santelli’s men fell into flanking positions beside them as they were led out of the Claymore’s hold.
It was nighttime wherever they were on Earth, and the weather was warm. Jennings could hear the crash of waves not far away and he soon realized why. The landing pad on which they had set down was carved out of the side of a cliff that overlooked the water. The man leading them did not pause and led them on a brick trail that was illuminated by lights designed to look like lanterns. The path curled up and around the cliff face and gave Jennings a commanding view of the sea. He could see a few cruise boats by their running lights rolling gently on the waves, and as they continued to circle to the top of the cliffs, he could hear music and the sound of laughter from above them.
The path led them out onto a long expanse of perfectly manicured green grass enclosed by a four foot high white brick wall on all sides. The area was illuminated with more lanterns and rich yellow light emanating from a large neo-modernist mansion that appeared to be made entirely out of windows.
Dozens of people were milling about, chatting, laughing, most of them dressed in clothing that Jennings assumed would cost about as much as his ship. Their arrival as well as their escort by the two dozen men with guns did not seem to alarm anyone. They passed a large ornate fountain that featured cherubim spitting water back into a pool that was changing colors via a laser show.
“Captain Jennings!” a happy sounding voice boomed from the end of the green. Stepping down a set of brick steps that led from the home’s patio was Vesper Santelli. He was wearing an expensive suit that complemented his tan skin tone and slicked back salt and pepper hair perfectly. “I’m so glad you could make it,” he added as he approached Jennings and offered his hand.
Jennings took it and said, “I wouldn’t miss it, Mr. Santelli. Thank you for extending the invite.”
Santelli flashed a smile and waved away Jennings’ thanks. “It’s the least I could do after you handled that mess on the Brigandine for me,” he said in a way and a volume that Jennings got the feeling that the words were for the assembled partygoers more than for him. “That is one ship captain that will not withhold money from me again,” he laughed. “Well, please come inside, there is something you absolutely must see.”
Santelli grabbed him rather forcefully by the arm and steered Jennings up the stairs, across the patio and into a set of French doors. The rest of Jennings’ crew followed him, continuing to be flanked by several dozen guards and their leader that still looked familiar to Jennings. Santelli led them away from the windowed areas and into a large interior room with a parquet floor that looked like an old-fashioned ball room. As soon as all were in the room and the door was closed, Santelli wheeled around and decked Jennings across the jaw.
Jennings fell to the floor, grasping at his face, and muttered, “Getting some mixed signals here, Mr. Santelli.”
Santelli spat angrily on the floor in reply. “Keep talking, Captain Jennings, and I might just change my mind about your fate,” he said.
Jennings pulled himself to his feet and wiped a little bit of blood away from the corner of his mouth. “Look, I’ve spent the past twelve hours thinking that I was going to die,” he said. “Could you be straight with me and tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Do you know how many men have stolen from me and survived? Insulted me and survived? Attacked my people and survived?” he demanded.
“Going out on a limb, I would guess none,” he said. “So, why not have your boys blast my ship to pieces out in the black? Why the warm reception in front of your guests? Why make it sound like I was working for you…” Jennings’ voice trailed off and he smiled. He tapped his nose twice and pointed at Santelli. “Very nice, Mr. Santelli,” he said at last.
“What’s happening?” Michelle asked in a nervous voice.
“These aren’t just guests of Mr. Santelli’s,” Jennings explained, eyeing the smuggler carefully as he spoke. “These are rivals and competitors. Oh, sure, you all have legitimate businesses as fronts now and you may even do business with each other, but I bet you go to sleep every night plotting their downfall. You wanted them to think that I was working for you when we attacked the Brigandine, making you no longer look weak. In fact, taking down one of your own crews might even make you appear more powerful while discouraging your other employees from making a similar mistake.”
“Very perceptive, captain,” Santelli said with a brief nod. “Considering that pitiful little ship is inferior to just about every other ship in the nine systems and is crewed by a trio of miscreants, I didn’t want my competitors thinking that I was an easy target. But if I convince them all that you’re working for me, all of a sudden, I have a very dangerous man on my payroll- a man who took out a crew of twenty killers almost singlehandedly.”
“It’s still a lot of trouble to go through when I’m sure killing us was an equally viable option,” Jennings pointed out.
Lafayette grabbed his shoulder and said in a hushed voice, “What are you trying to do, get him to change his mind?”
Jennings brushed off Lafayette’s hand. “No need,” he said. “Fifty bucks says Mr. Santelli still would have voted to kill us if it weren’t for one other thing.” He glanced back to Santelli’s eyes. “He wants us for some reason. My guess is that it’s a job.”
“A word of warning, captain,” Santelli began as he closed on Jennings and put his face directly in front of his. “I wouldn’t be so flippant with my mercy. The only reason you’re still breathing is that there is a contract out there worth millions, a contract that no one wants to take. None of my employees will volunteer for the mission and unfortunately, the type of people I rely on are not known for their courage and ingenuity. The people offering the money will take failure far more seriously than I would care for, so I must be very careful to whom I entrust this contract.”
Santelli stepped back and gestured to the leader of the men who had escorted them to Santelli�
�s house. “Consider yourself lucky that Mr. Rocca has been impressed with your tenacity,” he said.
Jennings turned to look at Rocca, and the recognition that had been nagging him suddenly clicked into place. He said nothing to Santelli’s lieutenant and instead turned back to the boss. “What’s the job?” Jennings asked.
“Simple cargo transport,” Santelli said, paused a moment, and then added. “To Lycos.”
Jennings’ eyes widened, and there were some sounds of consternation from Lafayette behind him. “Lycos?” Jennings echoed. “That’s in the Uula system.”
“I believe you’re correct,” Santelli agreed, smiling somewhat savagely.
“The Uulans don’t care much for humans, care even less for them setting foot on their worlds,” Lafayette pointed out.
Santelli turned to the Cajun, “As your captain so well reasoned, it is because of this job only that I have spared your lives,” he said. “If you’re not interested in the job, then we have a small problem.”
The sound of two dozen weapons being primed echoed throughout the ball room, and Jennings smiled to Santelli and said, “We would be happy to take the job.”
“Payment?” Fix grumbled.
Rocca spoke up for the first time. “I would think squaring your debt with Mr. Santelli would be payment enough,” he said.
Fix crossed his arms and said nothing.
“One hundred thousand, payable upon completion,” Santelli said.
“Your ships kind of shot mine to hell,” Jennings pointed out.
Santelli nodded. “It will be three days before the shipment is ready to depart,” he said. “I will see your ship repaired and stocked.”
Jennings nodded. “I suppose we should let you get back to your party,” he said.
Santelli moved to step past him waving all of his men to follow him. “Oh,” he said, stopping on his heel and turning around. “Not that I don’t trust you, but Mr. Rocca will be accompanying you on the mission.”
Turning once more and striding out of the ballroom, Santelli returned to chatting amiably with his friends once again as all of his men save Rocca filed out of the room. Jennings appraised Rocca for a moment, before he crossed the short distance between them and offered his hand.
“Sergeant,” he said.
“Lieutenant,” Rocca replied as they shook hands.
“I prefer captain now,” Jennings pointed out snidely.
“Of course,” Rocca said, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Well, captain, you’ve got a lot of preparation to do in the next few days. I’d offer you billets in the compound here, but somehow I thought you would be more comfortable on your ship.”
“It’s home,” Jennings agreed.
“Until tomorrow then,” Rocca said as he gave Jennings the Terran Federation salute and then followed Santelli back out into the party.
Jennings looked around at his exhausted crew. “Well, that went better than expected,” he said. “Back to the ship?” he asked as he strode out of the ballroom and then back out into night air, the rest of his crew following him.
No one else said anything until they were back on the path cutting down the cliff, headed toward the landing pad where the Claymore was docked. Lafayette was the first one to speak, “The Uulans?” he demanded. “He should have just shot us now.”
“You can go back and ask him to if you want, Marquis,” Jennings retorted. “The Uulans fought with us during the war.”
“Because they hated the Gael slightly more,” he pointed out.
“It’s a job,” Fix said in a way that suggestion that the discussion was over. “A good job.”
They said nothing more until they rounded a corner of the cliff and the Claymore came into view. The hangar door was still open and the interior lights were on, so they could see the Melody Tryst inside. Jennings saw for the first time that there were scorch marks all over her hull.
“Well, Squawk, it looks like they’ll be plenty for you to do,” Jennings observed. “You want to rest or get started.”
“Restfully rested already,” Squawk replied from behind Jennings. “Starting repairs.”
The Pasquatil sprinted off on all fours into the Claymore and up the ramp into the Melody Tryst. Jennings could not help but smile in appreciation at his engineer as they entered the ship after him. Squawk was already doing what he loved to do, so Jennings gave everyone leave to do whatever they wanted until morning. Lafayette vanished into the kitchen, saying something about a crème Brule and Fix vanished into his quarters without saying another word. That left Jennings alone with Michelle and Selena.
“Well, Ms. Beauregard,” Jennings said. “I’m afraid this is where we say our goodbyes. It’s been a pleasure fighting with you.”
“You’re kicking me off your ship?” Beauregard demanded in a surprised tone. “After all I did? I thought I would have at least proved my ability if not that you could trust me.”
“You did,” Jennings said, a confused look crossing his face. “But you’re not a member of my crew, you don’t owe Santelli anything, and I know you prefer to remain independent.”
Beauregard chewed her lower lip for a moment, but Michelle was the first person to speak. “You want to stay,” she said.
“You could use me,” she said quickly, the slightest tone of desperation in her voice. “I have quite a few talents and even a few contacts on Uula. Plus, one hundred thousand dollars five ways isn’t too bad either.”
She was trying to sound casual about the proposition, but Jennings was not buying it. “Why do you really want to stay?” he demanded. “You’re not one to follow orders, and if you do stay, you will be following my orders. You could get more than twenty thousand dollars in a few hours with the skills that you have, so it’s not the money.”
“She’s afraid,” Michelle said.
Beauregard eyed her angrily for a moment, but then at last nodded. “You heard what the Resistance captain said,” she said. “The Resistance wants me dead. I got onto the Nucleus while we were coming here and saw that they’ve posted a one hundred thousand dollar bounty on my head. Dead only.”
Jennings considered this for a moment. “An enemy of the Resistance tends to be a friend of mine,” he mused.
“I could pay you rent,” she added quickly.
“Done,” Jennings said immediately, offering her his hand. She shook it and he said, “Welcome aboard, Selena.”
Beauregard smiled and said, “I’ll start reaching out to my contacts on Uula, see about getting us some safer passage through their system, captain.” She turned to head up the gangplank to the second level but she stopped and turned around suddenly and said, “Ashley. My real name. It’s Ashley.”
“Welcome aboard, Ash,” Jennings said with a smile before she turned to head up the gangplank.
Heading to the back wall of the cargo bay, Jennings put his back up against it and let himself sink to the floor. From that position, he could see the water in the distance beyond the cliffs and the stars reflecting in the seas. Michelle sat down next to him and placed her head on his shoulder. He grabbed her hand in his and rubbed her fingers affectionately.
“Do you think the Gael will keep looking for me?” she asked.
“Probably,” Jennings said. “The death of Ciaran O’Sullivan means that only one hundred and ten of the pieces of this key they need to open their Great Gate are currently living. That doesn’t stop them from catching the rest of you and putting you on ice until that one hundred and eleventh soul shows up.”
Michelle shivered and Jennings put an arm around her, allowing her to melt into his body. Her warmth against his was a wonderful feeling of being wrapped in an old blanket, and it did get awfully cold on board the Melody Tryst sometimes, but he knew he had to do what was best for her.
“Look,” he said. “I know you probably can’t go back to your parents, but we could find you some place.”
Michelle looked hurt. “You want me to go?” she asked.
“I want you to be safe,” he corrected.
“The Tryst is safe,” she responded confidently. “I’m safe when I’m with you.”
Jennings raised his eyes. “Did you miss the last few days?” he asked jokingly.
“I’m alive,” she said with conviction. “Just like you promised.”
“I also promised that I’d let you go,” he said.
“That’s one promise you’re going to have to break,” Michelle said as she leaned in and kissed him full on the mouth.
An Earnest Plea for Your Help
Hello, good reader.
First of all, a heartfelt thank you for making it to the end- I hope you enjoyed the journey.
Secondly, I am in need of your help. You have already come this far- what’s a little farther, my friend?
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Thank you again. If you do leave feedback and would be interested in writing a review for another of my books, please feel free to reach out to me at [email protected] . I can see about getting you a free Kindle copy to review.
About the Author
Justin Bohardt became a writer because he realized early in life that creating alternative realities was infinitely preferably than living in the existing one. A former reporter, he moonlights as an auditor for a Fortune 100 insurance company while crafting new worlds in every second of free time that he can find.
His fiction has appeared in magazines such as Hungur, Outposts of the Beyond, Potter’s Field, The Drabbler, and Micro 100; while his poetry has been featured in Scifaikuest, Aoife’s Kiss, The Martian Wave, and Champagne Shivers. Bohardt also contributes to the occasional trade publication and teaches the occasional class. He resides in Iowa with his family.
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