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Marta (Heroes of the League Book 11)

Page 3

by Frank Carey


  "How's Adaira doing?"

  "Great," he said. "She's on track for delivery six months from now. Doc says both she and the babies are doing fine."

  "What about you?"

  His shoulders drooped. "I'm exhausted. The cravings that woman has in the middle of the night. Thank God I learned to cook. How many fathers-to-be do you know who can chef-up anchovy-pimento ice cream in the middle of the graveyard shift?"

  I patted his arm. "You'll do just fine," I said as I shuddered inwardly from that particular flavor combination. Yes, even an Elf Marine general has her limits.

  He leaned down and hugged me. Damn, I loved my kids

  Shenda and Chasm walked over as the other visitors debarked from the Marta McMurphy onto the darkened landing strip outside of Ventosia City. "Mom, Dad, it's time to go," Shenda said while hugging us.

  "I hate long goodbyes," I said while hugging her back. "Take care and let us know if you need anything."

  "We will," she replied as she turned to Harm. Meanwhile, Chasm walked over with his hand extended.

  "General, I wanted to..."

  I grabbed him, hugged him, then planted a kiss on his cheek. "Marta, you moron," I said with a smile. "You saved my husband, saved the League, then found time to make a couple of fine babies with my daughter. Call me Marta, dammit!"

  He smiled as his eyes flared bright green. "Yes, Marta. Any advice on raising kids?"

  "Love them with all your heart and soul. The rest will fall into place." I told him. I marveled that a being who maintained the knowledge of both the League and the Elven Empire of Crystal in his brain would need or value my advice.

  "Hey, I hate to break this up, but we've got to go," Shenda said.

  I hugged her one last time before allowing Harm to lead me off the ship. Minutes later, the ship was gone.

  "I hope we made the right decision," Lenora said as she strolled over with Losira beside her.

  "Your great-grandchildren are safe," Harm noted. "What's wrong with that?"

  I smiled and hugged him as we headed to the Algonquin and home.

  Chapter 5 - Christa Arrives

  Harm tinkered away at one of his creations while I paced the floor in front of him. Damn, I hated down time. Shenda and the Marta McMurphy had been gone for weeks, and I was jonesing for my offspring.

  "Bored?" Harm asked as he probed the creature on the table. It looked like a cross between a werewolf and an erector set.

  I glared at him. "Yes," was all I could spit out.

  "I miss them too," he said.

  I stopped and looked at him over the bridge of my nose. "Are you a psychic now?"

  He smiled back before getting back to his work.

  He’s right; I missed Shenda and Torren. I missed my grandkids, dammit. I missed holding them. I walked over to where I could look over his shoulder as he worked. "Need some help?"

  He picked a box off the floor and placed it in front of me. "Feel like eviscerating some broken beasts?"

  I smiled. My husband knew me all too well.

  ###

  "Welcome to Tryton Station. If this is your destination, you may pick your baggage up at carousel eighteen. Thank you for using League Space Lines and have a great day!" the automated messaging system said before repeating itself. Christa grabbed her bags and headed to the spaceport exit, stopping only to check the directory. She saw a neatly dressed, thirty something, elfling, with long auburn hair and wire-rim glasses staring back at her from her reflection in the directory's glass front. She half-twirled to the left, then the right. "Not bad, young lady," she said before getting back to finding her brother, Bobby.

  "Computer, display location of the Van de Moose sports complex," she ordered.

  A map of the station appeared along with a set of turn-by-turn directions.

  "Hey, baby, why don't you let me show you some directions?" a voice said from behind her.

  Ignoring the request, she said, "Computer, printout, please."

  "Hey, you look at me when I'm...grkkk!"

  Christa turned around and saw two, young humans dressed in the latest thug fashion, being held off the ground by the largest biped she had ever seen. "Princess, are these two gentle beings bothering you?"

  "Rock!" she said as she made her way past the two elevated boys to where she could hug the giant. "Naw, let them go," she said.

  He dropped them and watched them scamper off in abject fear. He took the printout and looked at it before handing it to her. "Here on vacation, Princess Christa?"

  "Kinda," she replied. "I'm trying to find my moron brother, Bobby."

  "Let me show you to the tube transport," the giant said.

  Christa took his arm and let him lead her out of the port area and into the station proper. "Can I assume the Spindrift is in port?" she asked while everyone gave them a wide berth. The Spindrift was one of her father's ships, a ship once thought destroyed along with its passengers. She remembered the stories of how they had miraculously appeared one day to save her father from certain death while helping him stop an alien invasion. According to Dad, the Spindrift's captain, Kestra, had one mean left hook.

  "Yes, we've just finished loading a shipment of prime Tralaskan rutabagas for delivery on Stora. We'll be breaking seal in two hours. Do you have time for a visit?"

  "Not this trip. Bobby sounded desperate," she replied as they walked up to the tube station.

  "Well, maybe next time," he said as he released her arm and kissed her hand. "Tell your brother we said hello."

  "I will," she replied. She watched as the giant disappeared into the crowd. She walked over to the kiosk and bought a ticket, then waited for the transport to arrive.

  ###

  After a short ride in the transport, Christa found herself standing in front of the entrance to the Sports Complex. Like all doors in the space station, these were the vacuum-proof pocket doors that retracted into the walls. They would seal immediately in the event of an atmo leak. She looked around for a directory.

  "You look like you need some help, miss."

  She turned and found a rather muscular human male next to her.

  He was gorgeous.

  Her tail was half-way to her shoulder before she could stop it and stuff it into the belt of her skirt.

  "My name is Trent, Trent Smith," he said while extending his hand.

  "Christa Irithyl," she said, taking his hand. Nice grip, she thought to herself. The family had decided to go with her father's birth name to end confusion, though he did use his adopted name--Harmon Aymar--when the situation called for it.

  "Irithyl? I work with a guy by the name of Irithyl, Bobby Irithyl. You two related?"

  "Tall guy? Kinda looks like me?" she asked.

  "Yeah, come to think of it. Your brother?"

  "Twin brother. He called me. Something about needing my help."

  "That he does, but I should let him explain. Listen, I need to run an errand. Would you care to join me? I can take you to him when I'm finished."

  "Sure," Christa said before taking him by the arm.

  They walked a short distance down the corridor and stopped in front of what looked like a parts store. They stepped inside and walked to the back of the establishment where an Alturan worked behind a counter. He looked up from his work. "Mr. Smith, what can I do for you and your friend today?"

  "Hey, Magus. I was wondering if you have an Elven Industries 011-zed actuator."

  "Yes, one new and one used. I assume you want the used one?"

  "Yeah. Can you put it on our tab?"

  Magus stopped what he was doing and typed something into his terminal. "Sorry, Mr. Smith, but you and Mr. Irithyl are officially overdrawn. I have been instructed not to extend you credit any further.

  "Instructed by whom?"

  "Ms. Crackel, the Center Director."

  "Dammit, Magus, we just need this one actuator. Without it, we're up the creek. What about a trade?"

  Magus knitted two tentacles into a complex pattern. "Sor
ry, Trent, my tentacles are tied."

  "Perhaps I can be of assistance," Christa said as she gently pushed Trent aside.

  "Not unless you have fifty thousand credits lying around," Magus replied.

  Without batting an eye, Christa reached into a pocket and pulled out her commlink. Like all commlinks, it also acted as an instrument of finance, like debit and credit cards of yesteryear. She typed something into the device's built-in keyboard before touching it to the stores payment terminal. "Is that a sufficient amount?" she asked.

  Magus looked at the screen in amusement, then his eyes went wide, all three of them. "More than enough...Princess!"

  "Good. Now put what's left on station account and take ten percent as a tip for your help in this matter."

  "Yes, Your Highness!" Magus replied. "Is there anything else?"

  "Yes, give Trent the new one and charge it to station account."

  "Yes, ma'am. Let me get that for you straight away," Magus said as he went out back to stores to retrieve the item. Meanwhile, Trent had pulled out his commlink and was checking his station account. He whistled.

  "How did you do this?" he asked in disbelief.

  "Do what? I just lent my brother a little money to tide him over."

  "You call a hundred thousand credits a little money? And why did Magus call you Princess?"

  Christa gave Trent a smile and took his arm. "All in good time," she said while looking into his eyes. Magus took this moment to return with the actuator.

  "Here you go, One EI-011-zed actuator, new and in the box, complete with two year warranty," he said while handing the box to Christa. "Anything else I can do for you?"

  Shenda handed the box to Trent. "No, I think that should do it. I'll let you know if we need anything else. Your service has been noted and will not be forgotten. Thank you," she said before leading Trent out into the throngs of people walking along the corridor.

  "So, what's the story?" Trent asked as they headed back to the sports center.

  "My father is Prince Lucien Irithyl of Ventos Prime and my aunt is Losira Irithyl, Queen of Ventos Prime.

  Trent stopped. "You're a real elf Princess? Damn! Wait a darn minute. Doesn't that make Bobby a..."

  "Hard working moron who got himself into something. So, are you going to tell me what this something is?"

  "Suit fighting," Trent replied. "Your brother financed a telepresence suit fighting team. We were doing pretty well until we ran up against opposition from a Tralaskan team. Right after we beat them, our computer genius, Harley Ashe, suddenly left and a lot of our spares disappeared. Suit fighting is a game of attrition and not having spares means we get our asses kicked."

  They walked into the complex and headed to the area where the combatants prepared for the fights. They passed stalls where suits of every design were being worked on by their teams.

  "No Minotaurs?" she noted?

  "No, nor maulers. Only unarmed suits, some stock, and others custom. You know about telepresence suits?"

  Christa nodded. "My family has dealings in the industry." She stopped when she heard a familiar cursing in ancient elf.

  "We're here," Trent said as they arrived at the stall the cursing was emanating from. She looked inside and saw her brother pacing in front of a partially disassembled suit, cursing it at every pass.

  "Hey, moron! Give it a rest for God's sake," she yelled while dropping her bag on a chair.

  Bobby quickly stopped and turned to face her, his face breaking out into a smile. "Christa!"

  She held out her arms as a cue for a hug. He ran over and grabbed her, picking her up off the ground and spinning her around. "Thank God you're here!"

  "Yeah, I get that. Now, put me down and tell me what the hell you've gotten yourself into.

  He put her down and grabbed some beers from a small fridge near a large toolbox. "Have a seat and I'll explain," he said while handing her a cold one. "I take it you two have met?" he asked while glancing at Trent.

  "Yeah, we met all right," Trent said as he handed the part over.

  "How is this a new one?" Bobby asked while he gingerly opened the box as if it contained a fragile figurine

  "I'm now investing in your venture," Christa replied while sitting back and taking a slug of beer. "Your debt with Magus is clear and you have money in the station account. What the hell happened, Bro?

  Bobby sat back in his seat and stared at the ceiling ductwork. "It all started when we got rid of Cleth..."

  Chapter 6 - Machinations

  Trent's eyebrows knitted together. "Who the hell is Cleth?"

  Bobby first looked at his friend, his eyes filled with sadness, then he turned to Christa for guidance.

  She nodded.

  “My twin brother and two twin sisters were genetically engineered to house and control an ancient demon stolen from the planet Vodalorn by the Special Projects Division of the Office of Security. My other sister, Shenda, exorcised and destroyed him a few years ago. Let's just say the experience was less than enjoyable."

  "Damn, bro, why didn't you say something?" Trent asked in hushed tones.

  "Everyone has a skeleton or two in their closet. Mine just happened to be an evil, murderous demon bent on the subjugation of the galaxy."

  Trent looked at Christa, possibly for a sign that Bobby was kidding. "He's not joking," she said. "Shenda made a decision or two which almost ended in the death of me, Bobby, and our brother, Torren. Instead, she was able to turn the tables on Cleth and his other half, Hernog. So, Roberto, explain this depression thing to me."

  Bobby took another hit off the beer as his tail wrapped around his waist. "You, Shenda, and Torren have found your places in the universe since then. I, on the other hand, was flailing about, trying to find a direction. My therapist told me..."

  "Therapist? You were going to a therapist? Since when?"

  "Since shortly after the exorcism. Things got bad after Shenda and Torren left for their new lives on the merchant routes."

  "Bro, I didn't know," Christa said, her voice filled with concern.

  "I didn't want to burden you or the rest of the family. I just needed to find something I could be good at."

  "That's where I come in," Trent said. "Bobby and I met at a party where we talked about suit fighting. By the time the party was over, we'd put together a plan for an SF team.

  “This was about a year after the Cleth thing,” Bobby explained

  "So, what happened?"

  "We started out on the amateur circuit, you know, small venues and small purses," Bobby explained.

  "Yeah, and we did great," Trent said. "We won a lot of matches, eventually earning grand master status that allowed us to move into the pro circuit.

  "That's when we got noticed by the Tralaskans," Bobby added. “This was right after I got back from helping you guys with that invasion thing.”

  "Tralaskans?" Christa asked as she sat forward with interest.

  Trent looked at Bobby and mouthed the word, “Invasion?”

  “I’ll explain later,” Bobby whispered in reply.

  "Yeah, Tralaskans," Trent said. Oddly, he avoided eye contact with Christa. "There are several Tralaskan families involved in suit fighting and they all wanted us to join them."

  "Why didn't you?"

  "Because they wanted us to join them so we couldn't compete against them," Bobby explained. "They've fixed a number of fights, but they couldn't persuade us to throw bouts, so they tried to buy us."

  "And you refused?"

  "It would be unseemly for a Prince of House Irithyl to throw a fight," Bobby said with a lopsided grin.

  "You really are a prince?" Trent asked. "Why didn't you say something?"

  "I wanted to do this on my own and not drag the family into my insanity."

  Christa gave her brother the ‘you moron’ look. “And the Tralaskans' reaction?"

  "They smiled and left. That's when we started losing spare parts and our programmer left," Trent explained. "Mandy was good, rea
l good, and we thought she was here for the long game, then she gave notice and left. We heard she was on Earth, living in Tahiti."

  Christa got up and paced while she digested the information. "How did Dad deal with this shit?" she muttered. "I know he worked the periphery of organized crime, but tried to avoid dealing with the Tralaskans."

  "Isn't his first rule "Make friends?” Bobby reminded her. "We tried that, but they were insistent on their friends being part of their organization."

  "Which family is the biggest source of your problems?"

  "House Cadiz, which is led by Sienna Craal who rules the family with an iron fist. Rumor has it she banished her eldest son for some infraction."

  "Have you tried to talk to her?"

  "Not yet

  "Perhaps if I have a talk with Lady Craal..."

  "She'll make you disappear," Trent said with frightening surety. He looked at her and saw he wasn't going to dissuade her. "I'll take you to her, if you want, just let me make a call."

  "You know her?" Christa asked.

  "Intimately," he replied, but didn't explain further. He walked off, leaving the Christa and Bobby behind to talk.

  "Intimately? What did I just miss?" Christa asked.

  "Lady Craal is Trent's mother. His late father was human."

  "And she disowned him, Trent I mean."

  Bobby nodded. "They had a falling out, and then he left. They haven't spoken since."

  "And you think they'll talk now?"

  "That was personal; this is business. She'll talk about business because it's the Tralaskan way. "Are you sure you want to do this? Mom and Dad will be very upset if you disappear."

  "Not to mention Grandmother Lenora. She'll launch an attack against the station. No, I have to at least try the 'Make friends' route."

  "And if this doesn't work?"

  "We always have plan B."

  "I thought plan B involved unleashing Cleth."

  "The other plan B, silly."

  Trent returned. "We can see her now," He said with a long face. "You know, we can just leave and go back to the amateur leagues."

  "Not on my watch. Now, shall we go visit with Lady Craal?"

  "It's your funeral," Trent replied. "Are you staying here, Bobby?"

 

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