Learning the Hard Way 2

by H. P. Caledon

  “Actually, I did. Everybody talked about an exit, and I needed some information from the paranoid old geezer who’d actually found it.”

  “Found it? The exit?” Mike asked, gaping.

  “Yup. And once I did, it had been closed off with bricks.”

  “Damn,” Mike muttered with an impressed look on his face before turning his chair to face the screen again.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Needed to say hi to Ratkins.”

  “Does he know that... uhm?”

  “That I busted you out? No, he doesn’t, and he’s not going to, either.”

  “You don’t trust him?”

  “Not enough. He’s on Kanakoon right now and expects to bag his target within four days and then head for Delta.”

  Keelan nodded and looked at the screen. He wanted to ask Mike about what he’d let slip in his drunken condition, but he didn’t think it was the right time.

  “Did you get coffee?”

  “No,” Keelan said, finally remembering what he’d forgot in the kitchen.

  “Hmm.” Mike got up, but one leg caved beneath him, and he had to grab an overhead console and thus spilled the rest of his coffee. “Oops.” He chuckled, hoisted himself back on his feet, and walked to the kitchen. Keelan followed with the thermos, looking at him, but he didn’t wobble or anything.

  “What was that? Your knee?” Keelan asked from the door to the kitchen.

  “No,” Mike said and took the thermos. “You damaged some muscles in my lower back, and now other muscles are trying to compensate. That results in too-tense muscles pinching nerves to the legs. It only happens if I’ve sat for too long. Or in a bad chair. Or lie in bed for too long.”

  “And scar tissue?”

  “Yeah. The physician said something about it.”

  “Did you see your physician recently?”

  “No, he had a look about a month before I picked you up. I have some exercises. Probably won’t find many masseuses out here, though.”

  Keelan smiled. “Strip and lie on your belly out in there.” Keelan pointed to the common room.

  “Nope!” Mike said, laughing.

  “Come on, at least I know how to do that.”

  Mike looked at him, thoughtfully, and finally nodded, bringing the coffee with him.

  Keelan spent the next few weeks helping Mike. His drinking was far from as bad as Keelan had feared, and when Mike finally did pull out the booze to drink himself unconscious, he was nearly dragging a leg while trying his hardest to hide expressions contorted from pain. It wasn’t as much a guilty conscious that made Keelan help—it was also the fact that he needed Mike in pristine shape if they were to be on the skip together. They stood a far better chance together. He knew that from experience.

  Plus, he needed Mike’s abilities if he was to find his and Alice’s child. Just how he was supposed to drop that little detail was still up for discussion in Keelan’s head.

  In the meantime, Mike’s back got better, but stable was not a word Keelan would use about his overall condition.

  One morning, Keelan sat in the kitchen and savored the first cup of coffee while once again contemplating the situation. It actually surprised him that he’d accepted Mike’s survival so quickly, plus the fact that he’d been busted out of prison by that very same man he’d tried to kill. He was also surprised at just how relieved he felt that he hadn’t killed him, and not just because Mike had come for him in Irgang. A few questions kept nagging him, though. Had Mike gotten him to appease himself? Or was Keelan yet again to revise his idea that a merc and a lifer could never be friends? He hoped they could.

  Could they trust each other? Keelan hadn’t made any new promises and wouldn’t do so until he’d found out exactly what Mike’s intentions were, whether his freedom was just a bandage to ease Mike’s pain.

  A mental pain, not from the scar in his back.

  Keelan chuckled to himself. But Mike’s reaction the first night, when Keelan had carried him to bed, made Keelan wonder whether the scar on Mike’s back wasn’t the mental scar as well. And Keelan’s mental scar?

  This is too philosophical for me.

  Keelan left the kitchen.

  Mike stepped out of his room and stared as Keelan rounded the corner. “What the hell kind of time is that to be up?” Mike asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Happy birthday. I had hoped to be the first one up.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” Keelan had no idea it was his birthday. It had never been celebrated other than a few times—one of which involved a disgusting piece of cheese.

  “Did you eat breakfast?”

  “No, just made coffee.”

  Mike threw his arms out and went into the bathroom.

  Keelan pulled a face and went back to the kitchen.

  A few minutes later, Mike came in and put a small bag on the table in front of Keelan.

  “Birthday present.”

  “Aw, and I didn’t even get to make a wish list,” Keelan said, unzipped the bag, and looked inside. There was a lot of stuff in there, so Keelan moved the bag to sit on the bench next to him so he could take out one thing at the time to place on the table. Grindstones, precision tools of various kinds, a military grade utility belt, and a crono with both compass and time plus currency calculator. He also found different kinds of steels in various sizes—perfect for making knives.

  Keelan looked at Mike.

  “A goodie-pack that you might need on the run.”

  “Thanks. Everything needed to make a proper weapon. Where did you get all this?”

  “I can make makeshift weapons when needed or something that’ll suffice on a mission. You’re virtuoso.”

  “My education isn’t long or thorough enough for me to know what such a pretty word means.”

  “It means you’re an expert. Closer to an artist, in my eyes,” Mike said, smiling. “Just promise me that one of them won’t end up in my back this time.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t... turn your back on me again.” Keelan sent him a knowing glance.

  Mike held it for a beat while a multitude of emotions crossed his features. He finally looked away. “To think it’s possible to talk when dunk to the point of unconsciousness,” Mike mumbled and got up to look for something in a cabinet.

  “What’s your word worth, Mike?” Keelan kept his focus on one of the pieces of steel, turning it in his hands to try to see the blade it could become.

  Mike kept his back to him just the same. “Before Rainer, it was valuable.”

  “And now?”

  “I learned something from you, too, Keelan. To not give your word unless you intend on keeping it, and I haven’t since. I know you didn’t go back on yours.”

  Keelan glanced at him and understood why Mike kept his back to him.

  “I learned not to trust anyone—”

  “I learned from it, Keelan!” Mike exclaimed and turned to face him. “I learned that you keep what you promise, and if you ever promise something again, I will never doubt that you will do anything in your power to keep it.”

  Keelan stared at Mike—for so long, in fact, that he feared the chance had passed, but he didn’t want Mike to think that trust came easy.

  “Okay. I gave you the benefit of doubt, and now you get my trust again.”

  Mike did not collapse from relief as Keelan had almost expected him to, but his eyes certainly held the emotions.

  “Okay. I’ll never doubt you again. Never rat on you again,” Mike said and sighed.

  “Okay, then. So, other than cheese platter, there’s something I need to take care of. Plan was kinda destroyed when Ratkins hauled my ass to Irgang, but something tells me you’re supposed to be a part of this.”

  Mike took a seat. “Okay, share what you will of the details.”

  Keelan thought about the dream and what to say while pouring coffee for the both of them. It was clear to him that Mike was not an obstacle if he was to believe that dream
s had a purpose to dig through one’s subconscious thoughts and feelings and bring them to the cognitive part of the brain.

  “Just before I went after you, I found out that I’m a dad.”

  Mike barely smothered a snicker successfully, but the amusement danced in his blue eyes.

  “What?” Keelan growled.

  “Just kinda difficult to imagine you with a baby over your shoulder asking for a burp.”

  “Okay.” Keelan chuckled. “Hadn’t thought about that one. But I was fifteen when the mother became pregnant.”

  “And you’re... quick calculus... that would make the kid fourteen! Not exactly a child anymore.”

  “I want to know what it was. If it has a good life.”

  “It?”

  “Boy or girl.”

  “Ask the mother,” Mike said, shrugging.

  “How do you think I got this much information? They took the child. She was my age, a bit younger... why do you think it says rape on my arm? I’m not a fucking rapist!”

  Mike held his hands up in surrender, and Keelan sighed heavily to get his temper under control.

  “I’m not accusing you of being one. You want to find the kid. Okay, then we do that... Daddy.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Leaning against the wall in the common room, Keelan waited for Mike to finish up so they could exit the ship and breathe the fresh air of Motáll. He finally appeared at the end of the hall with a lot of weapons on him.

  “How subtle,” Keelan said.

  “Yeah.” Mike flung a long coat over his shoulder before pocketing a badge that identified Mike as a lawman working on behalf of the United Systems.

  “Just the fact that you have that thing in your pocket makes me dislike you. A lot.”

  “Suck it up,” Mike said, grinning. He fished out two strange looking sheaths and handed them to Keelan. It was obvious they were weapons of some sort, but it wasn’t until Keelan pulled one out that he saw it was a long four-edged knife.

  “What the hell is this?”

  “Widrekurmi, so don’t swing them too much in here. They can pierce the hull of a ship,” Mike said while buckling his boots.

  “The hull?” Keelan yelped and stared at the things.

  “Yeah, they’re made from the strongest material ever found. It was mined by the masikils on their home planet. Their fingers are the only thing stronger than that material. Oh, and don’t let a varanuide catch you with one. If they do, prepare to die. Widrekurmi is the only thing that can pierce their skin enough to kill them.”

  “Aha,” Keelan mumbled, and arranged the sheaths so that they crossed on his back and were accessible from under the hem of his jacket.

  “Shall we? We have one week to locate the target and the proposed lover. According to our sources, they meet sometime in the middle of the week.”

  “What day is it?” Keelan asked and stepped down the ramp which Mike closed. Mike then punched in the code on the access panel.

  “It’s Sunday. Fourth in the seventh month in twenty-six-fifteen Earth Years. Local time is just before noon. Look at your crono, it updates automatically via military satellites.”

  “Sweet. What, you don’t trust me with the code?”

  “Sure I do. It’s your prisoner number in Irgang plus the first four digits of your birthday. Just thought I’d make it easy.”

  “Thank you, then even retard-Randy here is up to speed. Shall we?”

  “Yeah, we have reservations.”

  “For what?”

  Mike flashed a smile. “Wait and see.”

  “Aha. Oh, and a footnote. If you want me with you as backup, then talk normally to me... locate the target,” Keelan sneered and pulled a face. “You make me feel like a merc, and I’d like to stay friends with the guy in the mirror.”

  “Check,” Mike said, grinning.

  An hour later they sat at a table for two at a sidewalk café, and Keelan felt out of place.

  “Good day, gentlemen,” said a man in very nice clothes.

  “Hi. A cheese platter for two, please,” Mike said.

  “Yes, sir. Would you like anything to drink with that?”

  “The bottle of wine you think is best for a platter.”

  “With pleasure,” the man said, smiled, and left.

  “He’s very friendly,” Keelan noted.

  “That’s what earns him a living. Places like this expect customers to tip the waiter or waitress, and the better we feel, the more he hopes his salary for the day will be.”

  “I see. Can’t get past the fact that you invite me out for a cheese platter.”

  “Wasn’t much of a birthday dinner on the ship.”

  “No, but... did you know that I have only tasted cheese once in my life, and that it was a hideous blue blob which I was forced to eat on my eighth birthday?”

  “Wow. Let’s hope this experience can change your childhood trauma and make you forgive cheese.”

  “Childhood trauma,” Keelan said with a snort. “Do you have one?”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s no secret that you and I had very different upbringings. I actually don’t know shit about you from before Delta.”

  Mike sat forward. “What do you want to know?”

  No skepticism or signs that the truth will be wrapped nicely and twisted before delivery. Trust.

  “Something I couldn’t read in your file.”

  Mike smiled and sat back with a reflective expression. “My first kiss was with a boy.” Mike glanced at Keelan.

  “Irrelevant,” Keelan muttered, turning his fork over between his fingers.

  “You can’t read that.”

  “Just forget it.”

  “No, no, but... I didn’t exactly have the most exciting life before I joined, and all the good stuff is in my file.”

  “Maybe it’s exciting to me.”

  Mike looked at him with a sorrowful expression. Then he leaned closer. “Okay. My grandma made the best casserole in the worlds. I mean, what that woman couldn’t do in a kitchen would still make a gourmet chef jealous.”

  “Gourmet?”

  “Really fancy food. Grandma was a plump little lady, granddad was almost bald and a master storyteller. All genres. It didn’t matter if it was pirate stories for me or princess stories for my little sister, you name it, he could make it up. They were among the first on Key seven, you know, when it was first added to the Agro-Systems. They had tons of stories to tell. They got hit bad by the drought and moved to another Agro planet. Casseroles were only made from our own stock, greens, cattle, whatever. It was heaven out there on the new planet, but I saw pictures of Key seven.”

  “It survived the drought, right,” Keelan said.

  “Yeah, but people stole with both arms and legs during the first drought. Too many were killed. It wasn’t until the next drought that they found out it was part of a cycle. Every fifteenth year the drought moves in and lasts for about three. As far as I remember, that is. So they just reshuffle the work.”

  “It’s like Verion four’s desert storms, except there’s no cycle there,” Keelan said.

  “I wanted to live on an Agro planet,” Mike said with an almost dreamy expression. “I wanted my own little farm and... but then I got drafted and learned to fly an SN’D.

  “Search and Destroyer?”

  “Yeah, glad you remembered from our lessons. Anyway, that was a whole lot more fun than plowing, because those babies can move even though they lack the view.”

  “What does it look like?” Keelan asked, hearing the eagerness in his own voice.

  Mike seemed to catch onto it, too, but he gladly shared descriptions of the countryside so lush and colorful that Keelan couldn’t even imagine it. He was especially lost when Mike referenced the autumn colors on Mother Earth. Keelan hadn’t even seen pictures from Mother Earth. But it sounded beautiful. And peaceful, which made Keelan wonder whether he could ever settle a place like that or if he’d just get bored wit
h nothing more dangerous to survive than insect bites.

  Mike continued his stories from the Frontier Systems while they ate the cheese, and Keelan was beginning to understand Jasper’s love for it.

  “Would you show me the Agro-Systems sometime? Like, really show me?”

  “Sure. Then I’ll make you one of grandma’s casseroles.”

  Mike took Keelan to a small motel, where they rented a room.

  “One bed? A single? Maybe you should finish that story about your first kiss,” Keelan said.

  Mike smiled, shaking his head. “We were fourteen, girls were becoming very interesting, but they didn’t even want to look our way. And we had to go to this party where we played this game that a boy and a girl got locked in a closet where they had to make out for x number of minutes.”

  “And you struck out and picked a guy?”

  “No, but José and I wanted to make sure we had just a bit of practice before that closet.”

  “And what did the girl say when the hour of truth arrived?”

  “I made up an excuse that I had a bad toothache, because I really did strike out big time,” Mike said, looking slightly horrified at the memory.

  Keelan smothered a laugh.

  “Hey, loverboy, was your kiss any better?”

  “Absolutely, I got a kid, the beating of a lifetime, and a rape conviction and everything.”

  “Okay,” Mike mumbled, looking awkward.

  “That bed.” Keelan pointed to the narrow single bed.

  “This room is a backup. If we get split up, we meet up back here. We’re gonna leave some weapons and some money. We wait here for a maximum of six hours for the other one to return. If he doesn’t, we clear the room and cancel the rent.

  “Other than this room, we need to go to the station in the center of town. There we place money and weapons in a locker. Without going to the locker, we wait for a maximum of six hours to return. If the other one doesn’t, we clear the locker and take off in the ship. After twelve hours, it’s safe to assume the other one isn’t coming or you have to retreat to make new plans.

  “When we’ve leased the locker in central station, we’re going to rent the room where we’re supposed to stay. And I will be asking for two beds. Your blue eyes aren’t that pretty.”