by Mark Wandrey
“So you took it upon yourself to murder them?”
“Before they got more people killed,” he said sternly. “It was an unacceptable security risk. I did what had to be done.”
“That’s what you do, isn’t it?” she asked, tears in her eyes. “Even if it means leaving us in prison for weeks.”
After the exchange of words, there wasn’t much more to say. Murdock wished it hadn’t gone like that, but what good were wishes in war?
The old mercs ended up staying in their old hideout. It had the advantage of being anonymous. He was still afraid the locals might decide they were the villains and show up with pitchforks and torches. He was sitting in the kitchen drinking tea and smoking one of his last six cigars on the morning of the third day after the Battle of Atlantis when Mika limped in.
“How are you doing?” he asked. She’d been spending a lot of time sleeping.
“Alive, thanks to those kids.”
“They did great,” Murdock admitted. Dod came in a minute later. They’d convinced a local to fix his cybernetic leg. The shrapnel wound wasn’t a big deal and was well on the mend. He nodded when he came in. Then Dolan entered, still using a crutch with his leg in a cast, and he knew something was up. “What’s going on?”
“We wanted to talk,” Mika said.
“I figured that much out,” Murdock said. He set his tea down, slid the partly smoked stogie into a tube, and sealed it. They sat down. “What’s on your minds?”
“We don’t want to stay here any longer,” Dolan said.
“Don’t think these locals want us much, either,” Dod agreed.
“Not all of them hate us,” Murdock pointed out.
“Even your old girlfriend cut you loose,” Dolan said. Mika glanced at him, then away. They were still an unresolved issue.
“Yeah,” Murdock said, “so? What are we supposed to do? We don’t have a ship.”
“Sure we do,” Mika said.
Murdock’s jaw dropped. “You got Greenstein in on this?”
“Yup,” she said, “and Kelso and the irregulars who joined up as well.”
“What are the locals supposed to do when the alien reinforcements show up?”
“That’s interesting,” Dolan said. “Greenstein finished hacking into the Maki captain’s files. Turns out they heard from a courier a week ago. The war isn’t going great. No ships to spare. The HecSha were ordered to hold the planet themselves.”
Murdock grinned. “Well, this alters things a bit.”
“Doesn’t it?” Dod said.
“So where do we go?”
“I think we’ve got quite a team here,” Mika said.
“We’re a bunch of old fuckers,” Murdock said.
“Yeah,” Dod said, and spat on the floor. “Tell it to the HecSha and the Xiq’tal.”
Murdock nodded his head and thought; she had a point. They were a solid team. “So, where to?”
“I think Earth needs us,” Mika said.
“Earth is occupied by enemies,” Murdock reminded them.
“Yes,” Dolan said, “and we have an enemy ship!”
“Well…” he tried to come up with an argument against it and couldn’t. Why the fuck not? he thought. Why not indeed. “Only place I can get some more cigars, anyway.”
“Yes!” Mika said, and the others smiled.
“I’d like to shoot Peepo in the face myself,” Mika said, then grinned sheepishly. “From about five kilometers away.”
Murdock grinned too, then the grin faded slightly. He only had one small ten-year-old loose end to deal with.
* * *
Vince walked proudly next to Murdock along the dock. A dozen fishing boats had either been raised or were being raised from the bottom of the bay. Most of them could be salvaged, but nobody had been interested in trying as long as the aliens controlled the port. Help had rushed in from the surrounding smaller communities now though—everything from medicine to food.
“We did it, didn’t we?” Vince asked.
“Of course we did,” Murdock said.
“But I lost five kids, including the two lookouts.” Now he was looking down at the ground.
“I lost eighty,” Murdock said.
“Yeah, but…”
“But what?” He stopped and knelt in front of the kid so he had to look at him. “This is the risk we all take!” He hit the last two words hard. “This is what being a merc—a soldier—is all about. People die. People we care about, people we’ll miss, people we love.” He nodded his head, and Murdock got to his feet, a little painfully, to continue on. He didn’t say anything more until they turned the corner to see Shell Game ahead. Sheela and Shannon were standing there. Shannon looked expectant, Sheela resigned.
“What’s going on?” Vince asked as they walked up.
“I’m going to Earth,” Murdock said when they came to a stop.
“When do we leave?”
“We don’t,” he said. Vince looked up at him, confused, then tried to run. Murdock was ready for it and caught him by the wrist. The kid was quick—he had to give him his due—just not fast enough.
“You can’t leave me here! You can’t! You can’t!” he screamed over and over.
“Yes, I can, and I am.” Murdock looked up at Sheela, who had a slightly surprised look on her face. He’d called her about leaving him with her, and she’d naturally agreed. He suspected she believed she could talk him out of being a merc. Murdock knew better. He hadn’t wanted to do it this way, but there was no other choice.
Holding the kid by one arm as he fought like a little demon, he reached into a pocket, took out a device, and pushed it against the boy’s bare arm.
“Ouch!” the kid yelped, then looked up at Murdock in disappointment. “Why?” he asked, crying now.
“Because I respect your ability too much to think you won’t find a way to follow right behind me.” The kid swayed, and Murdock caught him. The look on his face cut the old merc to the core of his being. “You need to stay here until this war is over, safe and out of the way. They won’t waste more forces on Valais, we’re sure of it.”
“But I want to…be…with…you.” Vince was struggling to stay awake against the sedative and losing.
“I know,” he said as the boy’s eyes fluttered. “I love you, kid.” He looked up at Sheela, who seemed as horrified by his tranquilizing the boy as she’d been when he’d admitted to killing the Sharps. “You don’t understand just how resourceful the kid can be.”
“He’ll hate you for this,” Shannon said, shaking her head. Murdock picked Vince up and handed him to her. He seemed so small.
“Maybe he’ll change his mind about me, then,” he said.
“I doubt it,” Sheela said as her daughter carried the boy in. “I don’t understand you.”
“I know,” he said. “The boy will wake up in about nine hours. We’ll be long gone. With this war on, there won’t be any ships here for weeks, maybe months. A couple of the irregulars have volunteered to keep an eye on the starport if a ship comes by. It won’t guarantee he can’t slip away…”
“But it will help. I’ll do my best.” Murdock nodded and turned. “Will you be back?”
“We’re going to Earth to try and help.”
“What can five old people and a few volunteers do against armies of aliens?”
“More than we can do here. Goodbye.” He didn’t turn around, and she didn’t say anything as he left.
* * *
Murdock walked through a hole in the fence and onto the starport property. The morning clouds had broken up and the sun was shining. It was cool and crisp. A pair of irregulars pulling guard duty waved to him, and he waved back. The HecSha dropship squatted on the tarmac where they’d left it, a short distance from the wrecked excavator. Crews had begun cleaning up the debris, though nobody yet knew how to deal with the multiple-thousand-ton machine.
As he passed the excavator, he was surprised to see another dropship. This one wasn’t a military
style, it was a cargo hauler. There were a pair of cargo robots working, moving huge crates onto the ship. He was a little impressed, and a lot surprised. He walked back to the two guards.
“Hey, guys,” he called as he got close.
“Afternoon, sir,” the first man said; the other just nodded.
“That ship,” he said, and pointed, “when did it land?”
“Last night,” the first irregular said.
“Yeah, just showed up,” the other man agreed.
Murdock nodded and looked at the ship. Now he could see someone walking down the ship’s ramp. “Thanks,” he said to the irregulars and jogged toward the new craft. Well, jogged for a few steps until a knife of pain lanced through his hip, then he walked quickly, cursing constantly.
The person who’d come down the boarding ramp was around the back of the dropship looking at one of the pallets being loaded. The figure turned when Murdock was close, and the old merc came up short.
“Hello, Mr. Murdock,” the man said.
“Well, Mr. Canaday,” Murdock said, letting his hands drop to his side. “Funny meeting you here.”
“Indeed,” the other man said. He wore a sidearm as well. Another robot came gliding up, supporting a big crate. They were impressive machines. Expensive.
“You going somewhere?” Murdock asked.
“Yes,” Canaday admitted. “Moving on.”
“Oh? No carnage to make money off of?”
“Something like that.” Canaday wore a smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. He was lean, hard, and possessed a deadly demeanor few mercs carried. More businesslike, more lethal.
“Who’s your friend?”
Murdock glanced at the boarding ramp and saw a beautiful redheaded woman gliding down toward them. He was temporarily struck speechless.
“Red?” he said.
She laughed. “No, the ACSP was based on my image. You see, I programmed it. Did you do some business with us?”
“Yes,” he admitted and looked back at the other man, who hadn’t moved a millimeter. “I was just about to settle some more business with this fucker.” Things began to slow down to a pinpoint of reality as it often did the instant before people died. A bare millisecond before Murdock was going to draw his HP-4, the woman stepped between them.
“Now, you two,” she said with a disarming smile, “it would be a shame to ruin such a wonderful day like this with violence.”
“Get back to work, Sonia,” Canaday said, and turned to follow a robot up the ramp.
Murdock turned to the girl. “You sold to us and the aliens.” It wasn’t a question, yet still she nodded. “Why?”
The woman named Sonia put on a wry smile. “A girl has to make a living.”
* * *
Ascent motors roared as the HecSha dropship rose on automatic controls, clawing its way into orbit. Murdock sat in the cockpit because he was the only one with a clue how to pilot it. Not that he’d stand a snowball’s chance in hell if something really went wrong. He was quiet and had a frown on his face as he thought about the encounter with Sonia and Wil. In the back, Mika and Kelso rode in silence. They’d been waiting when he boarded the dropship.
Once they were in orbit, Mika floated up to sit next to him. She smiled at him and reached out to take his hand. He squeezed it and tried to smile back.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said, “just a lot going on.” He looked at her and saw a kindred spirit. They’d fought together, spilled blood together, and shared the same bed. The last complicated things. “Look,” he started to speak.
“No,” she interrupted, “you don’t have to say it. What we are is what we are. I like you, Murdock, a lot. We can just be friends if you want.”
“Maybe a little more,” he said, and she nodded. The ship flew on for a time, the two holding hands in microgravity.
“What about the other ship you went to?” she finally asked.
“You saw?” Murdock asked. She nodded so he explained what he knew.
“Wow,” she said, “that’s hardcore. Do you think they were involved in more than just taking advantage of the situation?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well, Valais was small potatoes. They had a high-tech operation, from the gear to the manufactory, and those robots. Did they make this war?”
“I doubt it,” Murdock said. “However, I think they knew it was coming.”
“That’s just as ominous, if you ask me,” she said.
“You know it.”
The dropship docked with the Maki frigate on automatic, overseen by Greenstein from the warship’s bridge. Only six Maki now remained aboard; two reactor crew, a computer person, a pilot, a navigator, and the former captain. Murdock and his team had settled on them as the minimum to be sure they would be able to operate the ship safely.
After he helped move the supplies they’d brought over, Murdock floated to the bridge. He passed a Maki maintenance tech working on some system. It paid him no mind. On the bridge he found Greenstein examining a Tri-V image of the galaxy zoomed in on the region of Valais.
“You sure you can’t do it yourself?” Murdock asked Greenstein, glancing at the Maki pilot manipulating data at its station.
“Positive,” Greenstein said. “I’m a fair dropship pilot. Fuck, maybe a damned good one! Deep-space piloting and hyperspace isn’t my thing. Get me to Earth, and I’ll get you on the planet.” He’d gestured at the aliens on the bridge doing routine maintenance. “I know enough about this bucket to be certain of knowing if they do something wrong, sabotage, or try and ghost us.”
“Good enough,” Murdock said. “There’s a dropship that landed last night. You know where it came from?”
“Yeah,” Greenstein said and called up a display. A ship hovered in the Tri-V.
Murdock didn’t know starships very well, so he was no judge. The one displayed looked somewhere between a warship and a freighter. A hybrid?
“The ship’s sensor logs showed it was here when they arrived. Registered with the Merchant’s Guild, so they couldn’t claim it or board it. The ship was orbiting the planet the whole time we were under occupation.”
Murdock thought about what Mika had said. I think they knew it was coming. “What’s the name?”
Greenstein glanced at the display. “Kol-foq-Bes. Translates as Big Bad Wolf.”
Big Bad Wolf, Murdock thought, then shook his head. Big Bad Wolf, BBW. “Son of a bitch,” he laughed.
“What?” Greenstein asked.
“Maybe later. So, how do we look for this trip?”
“Sufficient supplies,” Greenstein said, holding up fingers, “ship has plenty of fuel, especially since we’re one jump from Earth. The ship is down a few missiles they’d used against our gunboats, but its primary armament is lasers. We’re as ready as we can be.”
“We don’t know what we’ll find on Earth,” Murdock said. Mika and Kelso came floating into the bridge. Dod was just behind them. The old guy was pretty impressive in space. Greenstein had used the medical facilities on the frigate to print the old guy a new pair of dentures when the old man came aboard.
An unexpected bonus was Dod had a familiarity with space naval weapons systems. Dod had done a few tours as a marine in the days before Marine became a unique MOS, or Merc Occupational Specialty. As Kelso was a marine by trade, he knew a bit about ships as well.
Dolan was a few minutes behind, eventually arriving on the bridge with the rest. “The volunteers are set,” Dolan said. “We’re good below decks.”
“Think they’ll be okay?” Murdock asked Greenstein.
“Sure,” he said, “we’ve got a week to work with them before we get to Earth.”
“Earth,” Mika said and shook her head. She had to grab a handhold when the headshake started a spin. “Haven’t been there in a lot of years.”
“It ain’t much,” Murdock said. Of them all, he’d been there the most recently. “However, it’s humanity
’s home.”
“The fuckin’ aliens ain’t takin’ it from us,” Dod said, looking for a place to spit and failing.
Murdock smiled. “Okay,” he said. “Greenstein, let’s go.”
“To the stargate, Captain?” The Maki looked at him and nodded.
Murdock watched the interplay and decided he’d remain armed for the rest of their time on the ship. If they wanted to go to Earth, there was no choice. Sometimes it seemed nothing was ever easy. The ship’s engines pushed them out of orbit toward the stargate. Murdock thought.
“What’s the name of this ship,” Murdock asked.
“Frigate A’Choo?” Greenstein said, then glanced at Murdock and a ripple of laughter ran through the bridge. The captain glared at them.
“Yeah,” Dod said, “killer name.” Greenstein shrugged. “What da fuck does it even mean?”
Greenstein tapped on his control and a translator routine came up. Their personal translators were keyed to recognize proper nouns, not translate them. The screen updated. “A’Choo—Maki phrase translation—Dirty Deeds.”
“Now I like that as a ship’s name,” Mika said. Everyone agreed.
“Dirty Deeds it is, then,” Murdock said. A few minutes later, Dirty Deeds transitioned out of the system into hyperspace.
* * * * *
Epilogue
A hundred and seventy hours passed faster than Murdock had thought they would. He’d always rather enjoyed hyperspace; the quiet and featureless white void was the exact opposite of regular space. He was one of the many who considered it relaxing. There were only a couple places on the ship he could look directly outside, and he took advantage of a few opportunities over the week they were there.
As the clock counted down, the mercs formulated a plan. Thanks to the ship’s secure files, cracked by Greenstein, they had the access codes being used by the alien fleets. Handshake identifications that should allow them to go wherever they wanted. At least until someone got curious why they weren’t where they were supposed to be. It might be enough to get them within dropship range of Earth. Greenstein had guaranteed he could put them down on the planet if they could just bullshit their way into orbit. A high-stakes gamble, to say the least.
