“Oh.” Paul thought about it. “I can come back well-rested.”
“See that you do, Skipper,” she told him, and lifted her tablet. “And if you need someone to remind you, here’s my number. Let me know.”
Paul looked down at his tablet, and sure enough, her contact information showed up. “Don’t be a stranger,” she told him, and left to go to another table.
“Well, huh.” Paul studied the contact info. “I’ll be damned.”
“What?” Tabitha was leaning across the table to get a peek. “What’s it say?”
“Apparently,” he smiled and wiggled his eyebrows, “pilots are still sexy!”
Peter chuckled as Tabitha shook her head. “Maybe you are just a good-looking man sitting next to the famed head of the Guardians and Ranger Two, no less!”
“Or,” Paul teased, “she isn’t old enough to know who you are, and just wants a piece of this stud.”
“Ok, stud,” Peter broke in, “still thinking Operation Retirement?”
“At the moment,” Paul told him, “I’m thinking of extending my stay here on the Meredith Reynolds for some beer and old-fashioned canoodling.”
“Don’t tease and leave,” Tabitha told him.
“I’d give as good or better than I received,” Paul replied. “It could be love. You never know.”
The three of them had two more rounds of drinks, and talked as people around them came and went.
“Safe,” Tabitha said suddenly. Paul looked confused, but Peter leaned forward, his eyes serious.
“Ok, so you really want to retire totally?” Peter asked. “Because we can make that happen if that’s your desire.”
Paul looked at them both and looked down at the beer bottle he was playing with, turning it one way, then the other as condensation made its way down the sides.
He looked up. “Why?”
Tabitha said, “Because there is always room for someone who wants to do good, but there isn’t always a legitimate organization that can host them.”
Paul pursed his lips. “TQB again?”
“Isn’t it always?” Tabitha asked before her eyes narrowed. “Wait, are you asking about her, or TQB Enterprises?”
“Aren’t they the same?” he countered.
Peter took a sip of his beer. “Well, for us, yes,” he finally agreed.
Paul looked between the two of them. “Is she asking?”
“Not exactly,” Tabitha answered. “She doesn’t want to pull you from what you wish to do. If that’s retirement, then she wants you to enjoy it.”
“However,” Peter added, “I know I’d be pissed off if someone allowed me to retire and my friends never told me there might be something else I could do.”
Paul smiled. “So what you are telling me is that everyone will be happy for me if I want to fly into the sunset?”
“That’s right,” Peter agreed. “And some of our people from Earth are officially doing that.”
Paul rubbed his jaw, looking around at those who were enjoying themselves. He spotted a couple of younger women who had no clue he was probably six times their age—with all the baggage that came with that.
He couldn’t even marry a woman half his age to get the maturity without making it look like he was robbing the cradle.
Perhaps—just perhaps—there was a downside to living longer than your friends and family. He sighed. “I’m not ready to go plant a bunch of flowers, but I’d like to take one last vacation.”
“Any need to see Earth?” Tabitha asked him, her shoulders relaxing just a bit.
“Nope.” He shook his head. “I’ve been given the 411 on how they fucked that planet up after we left. I’ll just keep my memories, and perhaps watch some video.”
Peter lifted his tablet. “Set your tablet’s receive mode to secure, passcode 909703.”
Paul raised an eyebrow, but pulled his tablet out of his pocket and did what Peter asked. “Ok.” He watched as a particularly large download came in.
Tabitha elbowed Peter and told Paul, “I hope you have a backup. That’s going to overwrite your system, and while it should leave most of your data, you never know.”
Peter shook his head. “Old habits for hackers. Fifteen updates, no mistakes.”
Tabitha glared at Peter. “I’ll give you old habits!”
Paul smiled. “I’m a pilot,” he said to Tabitha, “so I appreciate the idea of measure twice, cut once.”
“That is a man of conciseness and accuracy.” She nodded at Paul, but spoke to Peter.
Paul changed the subject. “Speaking of piloting, what’s going to happen with Achronyx?”
Tabitha flashed him a smile that brightened up her whole face. “Funny you should mention that, Pilot!” She winked.
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Residential Level Twelve
William nodded to a young man and his girlfriend as he stepped off the elevator into the black-carpeted hallway. They walked into the elevator, and the doors closed.
William looked down the hallway, then set his shoulders and strode forward. He mumbled to himself, “I got this. It ain’t bad. It could be my future, and I need to reach for it.”
He turned right and continued down another hallway. He hadn’t exited at the closest elevator to the suite he was heading toward. Frankly, he needed the time. “It’s been obvious for a while…” He shook his head.
William stopped and looked at the ceiling. “Lame, lame, lame!” He squared his shoulders one more time and resumed walking.
Almost five minutes later he arrived at the door and lifted his hand, hesitating a moment. Before he could knock, the door opened to reveal a smiling lady.
“Bellatrix said she scented you!” Yelena moved back as William stepped in, then grinned and rubbed Bellatrix’s head.
“You ratted me out!” he complained to Bellatrix.
The accused looked up at him. “Did you do something which requires you to worry?” the huge black German Shepherd asked. “If so, can I get involved?”
William chuckled, then asked Bellatrix, “Why would you wish to get involved?”
She chuffed, “Because it’s so boring here.” She went with William as he headed farther into the apartment.
“WILLIAM!” Bobcat shouted from the back somewhere, and a moment later he came out of one of the hallways that led to the vat area. He and Yelena had built it behind their suite for their brewing effort, and if the air handling system hadn’t been exceptional their place would have reeked of fermenting yeast.
“Buddy.” William nodded as Bobcat stepped into the kitchen, opened their fridge, and pulled out two beers. “Honey?” he called.
William looked around, but Yelena was nowhere to be seen. “Yes, I’ll take one!” she shouted, her voice coming from the opposite side of the suite. Their bedroom, William guessed.
Bobcat put a beer down in front of William and winked. “Only the good stuff.”
William picked up the bottle and stared at it dubiously, then fish-eyed Bobcat for a moment before taking a swallow. He looked back down at the bottle and turned it around, trying to find a label.
“This is good,” he told Bobcat. “Really smooth, and a hint of fruit or berry. Whatever.”
“It should be.” Yelena patted William on the shoulder as she walked into the kitchen to accept her bottle from Bobcat. “It took me eight long months to get those damn berries to tell me their secrets!” she told him as she left the kitchen and headed back the way she came. “I’m working on a project with Patricia.”
“Patricia? Lance’s wife Patricia?” William asked.
“The same!” she replied as she disappeared again.
Bobcat leaned on the counter. “Ok, mi casa es su casa and all that. What’s up, amigo?”
William eyed his friend. “I don’t have a way with words…” he started.
“This isn’t a breakup, you dope,” Bobcat told him. “You want a girl, she’s leaving to go with Bethany Anne, and you want my blessing to chase her.”
“Save it.” Bobcat waved at him. “We will be here for you if you want to come back.” He smiled. “But you gotta chase the star, and I think you might have found the one for you. I couldn’t be happier.”
The men spoke for another twenty minutes before Yelena came back through. “Another beer, William?”
“Oh no!” William shook his head as he lifted his almost-empty bottle. “I’ve got a figure to watch.”
“Don’t worry.” She smirked. “I’m sure Kathy will look at it all the time.” She slapped Bobcat’s belly. “I feed him beer constantly. Doesn’t change him at all.”
William smiled. “Thanks, Y. Sometimes I forget the obvious.”
“Which is why women were created,” she replied. “Men would forget how to make beer correctly if women didn’t remind them.”
She looked back and forth at the two men, who stared at her aghast.
Bobcat eyed Yelena, ready to protest, but she waved a hand. “Ok, perhaps I go too far…”
“Damn right!” Bobcat cut in.
“Forget how to make champagne?” she asked, a glint in her eye and a smirk on her lips.
Bobcat nodded once in acceptance. “Not a huge fan of the bubbly, so I could imagine forgetting how to make it.” He pointed at her. “However, I’d like to remind you I knew how to make beer before you came into my life.”
“Yes,” she agreed. She headed back to the room she had come from as she threw a parting shot. “But was it good beer?”
Bobcat shook his head in resignation, and her laughter bounced off the walls after she disappeared. He turned to William, who was sipping the last of his bottle and working to keep the smile off his face. “Everything nice I just suggested about finding your soulmate?” he whispered, conspiratorially looking to where Yelena had disappeared. William looked over his shoulder before turning back to Bobcat, who winked. “At some point you will think ‘I was a fool!’” he said so quietly William could barely hear him.
Bobcat straightened and took a drink himself, then spewed it into the sink next to him when Yelena’s voice rang down the hallway. “I HEARD THAT!”
William chuckled, looking at the stricken face of his best friend.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
QBBS Meredith Reynolds
Bethany Anne stepped from the executive shuttle as the Black Eagles that had escorted her from the Meredith Reynolds took station around ArchAngel. She waved to a few of the crew on the dock as she walked with Barnabas and Peter toward the hatch which would take them to the bridge.
“Berret!” she called, suddenly turning to her right and heading toward a guy who was working on a screen with his back to her. Peter and Barnabas pivoted with her as smoothly as if they had practiced the maneuver instead of her surprising them.
It is good to be enhanced, Peter thought.
The six-and-a-half-foot-tall man turned around. He had red hair, and was wearing gray coveralls. He sported a wicked-looking skull design on his shoulder and an annoyed expression on his face until he realized who had called his name.
“Ayyy!” The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes were evident as he beamed at the incoming Empress and threw his arms open wide. Many of those working the deck seemed confused as they watched what appeared to be a reunion.
They knew “Barroom Brawl” Berret, and they knew of the Empress…
But how did the two know each other?
Bethany Anne hugged him, then stood back and put her fists on her hips. “You are looking good. What’s the problem wi’ ye?” she asked, mimicking his accent.
“Oy!” Berret smiled, but his face turned down as he ran a hand down the back of his head and looked at Bethany Anne. “Well, it’s like this, me Empress. I got me ass handed ta me by a short-stuff female wi’ black hair.”
Peter leaned in closer to listen as he kept an eye out around them. He hadn’t heard this story yet.
“Uh huh.” Bethany Anne waved Berret forward. “I’m only going to live another thousand years, so hurry up and answer my question. Don’t keep me waiting.”
Berret smirked. “Well, since ye kicked me ass in the bar last year, I thought maybe I might need ta work harder on me skills a’ breakin’ ‘eads.”
Barnabas smiled at the man. He had already lifted the story from Berret’s mind, so he wasn’t hearing it for the first time. He allowed his mind to explore the others around them and realized many were shocked to learn that Berret’s stories about getting into a bar fight with Bethany Anne—the Empress—were true.
He had claimed his ass had been kicked by ‘nothing but a dark-haired lass wi’ a laugh o’ joy and a vicious right hook’ when he showed back up on the ArchAngel after his leave. Both Berret’s eyes had been black and blue, and he had sutures on his cheek and a humbleness he hadn’t exhibited before.
Berret had tried to get them to believe the lady who had kicked his ass was the Empress when he saw her on a show one day.
No one had believed the Empress had been slumming in a bar down on the planet, much less that she had added herself to a bar fight Berret had started.
“So,” Berret continued, “I went fer some of ya martialin’ arts and found a master ta help me understand the purpose. Doin’ so also helped me figure out why I was fightin’ all de time.”
Bethany Anne nodded and waved him toward her. “Ok, let me have a bit. You punch, I’ll block.”
“Ma’am, can I watch?” a lady’s voice interrupted them. A short black woman with the insignia of a pilot on her uniform stood fifteen feet away, and there were another seven making their way toward the small group.
“Sure. I’m just going to check his technique, Pilot Hanna,” Bethany Anne told her. “Just don’t get too close, or these two guys here,” she waved to Barnabas and Peter, “will ask you to step back.”
The pilot nodded as another man stepped up and spoke quietly to her. The two grinned.
“Ye want me ta hit ya?” Berret asked, confused.
“Oh, you won’t hit me,” Bethany Anne assured him. “I was only playing down on the planet.”
“A story,” Barnabas replied dryly, “I’d love to hear someday.”
Bethany Anne ignored him.
“Ye were goin’ easy on me?” Berret asked incredulously.
“Oh, aye.” Bethany Anne smiled. “I was slumming, and took responsibility for stopping the fight and making sure you were taught a lesson. I didn’t think you had started it out of malice.” She shrugged. “So I boxed your ears and shipped you back up here.”
“Awright.” Berret seemed dubious, but situated his feet correctly. Bethany Anne placed herself exactly far enough away for his fists to reach her.
She leaned forward and adjusted his hip. “You are off-center just a touch,” she told him. “And move that tree trunk you call a leg half an inch back.” She nodded to herself and straightened. “Ok, PUNCH!”
Berret did as she commanded, and Bethany Anne easily slapped his hands out of the way. Although he couldn’t tell, she was actually pushing them out of the way so she wouldn’t break his wrists. “Faster!” she barked, “and don’t forget your Kea-AH!”
PUNCH. “KEA-AHH!” Slapped aside.
PUNCH PUNCH. “KEA-AHH!” Both hits were slapped aside. “COME ON!” she barked again. “WHAT ARE YOU, SLOW?”
Berret didn’t roar in anger, but his eyes narrowed and he focused on his movements, making sure his stomach was helping him as he threw punch after punch at his Empress. He tried backhands, forehands, and even an uppercut to no avail.
“Hold!” she called, and he stopped. “Nice stop,” she told him. “You’re going to need a shower after this.”
The chuckles around them helped Berret handle the fact that he was drenched in sweat and the Empress just looked like a wind had blown her hair a bit. There was no perspiration on her body.
“Keep up your
effort in class.” She patted him on the chest. “It’s helped your refinement, and the power of your punches.” She winked. “Plus, you’ve toned your arms and stomach. Less beer, more practice!” she called as the three of them continued their journey to the bridge. Bethany Anne took a moment to shake some hands and say a few words as they departed.
Five people came up to Berret and apologized for not having believed the stories.
Berret had gone down to Yoll and started a brawl that the Empress of the Empire had finished.
—
“Well,” Barnabas remarked, “that was enlightening.”
“Oh, stow it,” Bethany Anne replied, smiling. “It’s not like you don’t disappear from time to time to get your shit together.”
“Yes,” Peter agreed, “but we don’t have roles they tell bedtime stories about.” He reviewed a message on his tablet.
“True,” she agreed. “Think they will talk about the Empress running around in bars and fighting?”
Barnabas looked at Peter, who had a small grin on his otherwise stoic face, and shook his head.
This trip, which they were taking to confirm that the ships were prepared as well as they could be and say a few goodbyes, would be interesting to say the least, he thought.
“Oh,” Peter smiled as he reviewed an email ArchAngel had created for him after a bit of discussion, “I guarantee it.”
He hit Send.
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, General Lance Reynolds’ Office
Lance took a sip of his water as he reviewed the latest update on the efforts to get the last supplies packed into the departing ships, and the subversive efforts of Nathan’s group to acquire additional supplies on the black market for—he snorted and shook his head—“High Tortuga.”
Sometimes he wished he would remember to codename some of this shit before it was done for him.
He pulled up a tagged file to read the latest updates on the Meredith Reynolds‘ food and drink store, and raised an eyebrow.
What the hell was Bethany Anne up to now? He looked further, reading the details of the changes.
Tapping his fingers on his desk, he called, “Meredith?”
Life Goes On (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 21) Page 14
