“To your question, I just turned ninety years old. I retired when I was seventy after twenty-nine years of service. Yes, that makes me one of the original Shadows. Hell Topa, after all the missions I went on, I figured I only had another five or ten years left in me. Now they are thinking we should not even think about stopping daily sparring until we are at least 120 years old. Who would have guessed?
“Anyway, I was tired of killing bad guys. I did not have any mental issues with it. No matter how many unaligned planets we saved, there were always more BAWs trying to steal, rape or pillage. I seemed kind of pointless. After I retired, I picked up two Master’s Degrees from TU just to keep my brain active. I do some research, write some articles, work out with friends, piss TRO off daily with my eating and drinking habits, and have occasional disastrous relationships with the fairer sex. Life is Okay.”
“Thrower, I definitely was not implying that you should not have retired. Lord knows you have earned it. How many retired Shadows are here on New Maui?”
“As of today, we have twenty thousand four hundred twelve retires that are residents. There are one thousand four who have retired and never come here. That would include you and Kip. We check on all of them discretely to make sure none needs physical or mental help. You sent Garbo our way about a week before we would have grabbed him ourselves. He is in rehab here and so is his Syrt. His Syrt and his immune system never figured out how to get along. If they make it through rehab, he will definitely be an improved human being. Odds are a bit against his Syrt making it. We have had less than a handful of problems that serious, so he is getting a lot of attention.”
Danny was shocked at the number of retirees. He had just got over the fact that Thrower was conversational with his Syrt and it had a three-letter name.
“Thrower, how many of the retirees work out seriously every day?”
“All but a small handful keep up the discipline. We have some incredible work out facilities. Once we found out that you could actually talk to your Syrt if you pushed yourself hard enough, everyone got into two-on-one and even three-on-one sparring. We have incredible work out facilities. If you want to spar while you are here, I would consider it a favor if you called me.”
“Let’s make it easier than that Thrower, you call me at 0800 tomorrow. I will bring a friend or two and you can too. Let’s throw a little hurt at our meld mates. Any guess as to how many retirees here have Syrts with three letter names?”
“That is not a published number but my guess is almost a thousand.”
“Has anyone told you guys that having a conversational relationship with a Syrt is an official classified secret in the Shadows these days?”
“Yep, Dr. Tarik reminds us at least once a month. Before you go all wise-ass on me Topa, your records are flagged. You have a clearance so high that I got notified that I need to explain why I even looked at your records. I am not going to ask you questions, just a favor.”
“Go for it, you are on a roll.”
“I am guessing that looking up old friends is at least a little bit of the reason you are here. Putting you together with Duke and in a partnership with the Emperor and Eva Quan is enough to cause a moron to see some light, even in a dark room. You are up to something and if retirees can be a part of it and it makes a positive difference, I want in. Hell, we all will. It is something that we all really need now. I mean…retirement…really?”
Danny was intrigued, humbled, and curious. “What is it that you all need now?”
“A purpose,” said Thrower. “Here is a holo cube of all the information on everyone you operated with. It is only1300 here. You have a lot of daylight left to burn. I will call at 0800 tomorrow. Good hunting, Topa.”
“Frog didn’t make it, Topa. It took him a while to recover after Dirge. On his next mission he was hit by a heavy laser. It took half of his head off. Cobra is still operational. He told me that he could not imagine not being in the middle of the action.
“If you are wondering why I retired, I didn’t have much option at first. Six months ago I was covering an insert team. After my initial six-shot shoot and scoot, I hit my secondary shoot site about one second before a mortar round did. While I was still flying through the air, I got caught by two spray-and pray-shooters that managed to get three rounds in me to help all that shrapnel put me out of my misery. PSH kept me alive until they threw into an emergency tank on the extraction vehicle. I woke up here five months ago. I started working out again five weeks ago.
“I get to make a decision on retirement in another two weeks. I might retire. Fixing problems for unaligned planets has virtue, but I have had almost as many missions as you, Topa. I am getting tired of watching my friends die. But what the hell would I do if I am going last and be active past 120? Dr. Tarik said it might be more like 140 or 150 because I am now at a conversational level with PSH.
“At least on missions I would never make it long enough to get really bored with life. No Shadow can go through missions for that many years and not by the farm. You know, I wish there was a physically active alternative to missions. Of course, it would have to be something that also made a difference.”
“How about you get us to a place we can get the best meal in town, I pay, and we catch up over dinner and too many drinks? It is a shame, but we have to remember that we are sparring tomorrow morning.”
“Are you keeping up with your workouts now that you are retired and in the private sector?”
“Well Pusher my man, we will just have to see, eh?”
The morning air was crisp. Danny and Pusher arrived at a complex that rivaled any of the Shadow gymnastic facilities. Danny gave up counting but it looked to him that there were at least four hundred sparring mats just on the main level. There were four levels. At least half the mats on the main level were full. Danny stared at a couple of matches and was impressed. These retirees really went at each other hard.
While he was watching a match, Thrower walked up with another Shadow. Danny looked up at a huge burly blond.
“Danny, let me introduce you to Sven Johansen, team name Viking.”
The two shook hands and sized each other up.
Thrower took the lead. He asked, “How about we start with some two-on-ones at first and we come up with some new arrangements after everyone has had a go against two?”
“That works,” said Danny. “Thrower, you start against Viking and Pusher.”
What Danny saw impressed him. All three were smooth, used team tactics without thinking, and were fast. Even in convalescence, Pusher still had it together. It took quite a while, but Thrower was taken down. These three could keep up with any level threes I operated with. Kip is going to be a happy man.
“Okay Topa, let’s get you into the mix.”
Danny looked around and noticed that there were now over a hundred guys sitting in the bleachers watching their mat. Time to put on a little show.
“That works for me, Pusher. But I think it would be a bit fairer if all three of you took me on.”
Sven frowned, gave his head a sideways shake and quipped, “Topa, maybe you should not let you mouth write checks that your body has to cash.”
Thrower said, “Careful Viking, you obviously didn’t talk to your Syrt about Danny.”
Viking looked at the ceiling for a moment. When he looked back he blew out a stream of air.
“Sorry Topa, sorry TRAM, obviously I had not talked to SVK. SVK wonders if we might need to invite one or two other Shadows to join us to give Topa a real workout.”
“That would be great Viking. If you see another level three or two in the audience behind us, I would appreciate them joining us. Anyone that hasn’t reached level three yet would just get in your way and give me a bigger advantage.”
Thrower and Viking each pointed at someone and the two joined them on the mat. Almost all the other mats were empty now as more people came over to watch. The word that Danny O’Malley was sparring spread quickly.
When the ma
tch started, the five L-3 retirees moved in concert to reach and herd Danny to where they would be able to throw him out of the circle on the mat. However, Danny was a blur. He went exactly where they wanted him to go, but he got there much sooner than they were ready for him. He was at their feet, spinning around some of them, somersaulting over their heads, landing at their backs, and throwing them several feet over their remaining teammates’ heads. They all landed in the same spot, a good four feet outside the circle. It all lasted about two minutes.
Danny walked over to help his last victim to his feet. It was silent. You could hear a pin drop. Not being one that failed to take advantage of an opportunity, Danny spoke before the applause got started.
“Hi, my name is Danny O’Malley; Topa to my friends and teamies. I was not trying to show off. I greatly appreciate sparring with these men. I definitely need the heavy breathing and occasional bruise just as much as you do. I usually work out with Kip David, the man who invented our team tactics.
“Kip and the Emperor started a new company and, at a weak moment, hired me. I cannot tell you anything specific today. What I am about to tell you is to be held closer than the fact that several of you are at a level three conversational ability with your Syrt. I am at level four. Ya’ll just saw some of the difference.
“I promise that I will be back within three months. I intend to ask several of you to talk with me and our recruiter about working with us. I need as many of you to get to level three as can and as soon as possible. It would tickle me shitless if some of you got to level four. Take your sparring up two notches. Use hand and foot dampeners and go at each other harder. Two-on-ones are good for a while but you need to get up to three and four-on-one sparring to tax your immune system and let your Syrt grow faster. Try a full-out hour of exercise before you spar. If you can walk within five minutes of your last match, you are screwin’ the pooch.
“I am impressed that several of you got to level three without much urgent motivation. But the fact that there is not at least two medical people here fixing breaks, bruises and concussions tells me that ya’ll could be going a lot harder and making more progress. I can’t tell you why until I come back with some new-fangled mind wipe gear and a recruiter that finishes Shadow Training, but Kip and I need you bad. You will like it. It will give you purpose. Now ya’ll get the hell to work!”
The applause was deafening. Thrower hugged Danny and Danny didn’t mind.
Chapter 11 – The Recruiter
Ramos Short looked at Danny as he handed him a bottle of flavored water. They made a good covert pair. Ramos was large, light brown skinned, with his Black, Asian and Hispanic genetics complementing each other except for the finely chiseled Roman nose. Other than being attractive to women, he was not very noticeable in a crowd. Ramos, at a bit over six feet, was taller than the five foot nine-inch norm for men at the time. When he wore a long sleeve shirt, his body builder physic was not so obvious. Since leaving the Royal Marines, Ramos was working hard on developing a smile. Without a smile, his eyes were severe and intense. That was not bad for dealing with Pirates and enlisted men but a little scary for most civilians.
Danny O’Malley was a little under six feet tall, had a wiry build and had to beat women off with a stick. He was not beautiful or even handsome. But his soft-featured European face had the look of a very sensitive guy and his mischievous eyes and quirky smile made him out to be a bit of a scamp and a bad boy. Not a bad thing considering his service painted him as one of the most efficient killers and operators the Empire had yet produced.
When seen together, it caused no concern. It was not particularly memorable because they looked like two guys that should be friends. Mentally, they made sense together. They had known each other less than a week and they already teased and harassed each other like they had been friends for years.
"Danny-Old-Blot, I hope this guy Wayne gets done pretty soon because just watching him is making me tired. Are you sure he is not one of you enhanced-types?"
The object of Ramos’ comment, Wayne Johnson, had moved from the parallel bars to the rings in one of the few private sports clubs in the City of Cantor that catered to the serious athlete rather than the more common want-to-be. If they were not on a covert mission, they both would have stood up from their bleacher seat and applauded when he finished with the parallel bars.
Danny snorted, "Well Studley, with all the top secret gear, top-security photon-net accesses, and ultra-fast computer systems that some mysterious people keep dumping in my office, I can tell you if he ever looked into the Shadow program and if he was picking his nose when he did it. And, by the way, why didn’t you ever look into becoming a Shadow? You picked up those fifty-two confirmed kills the hard way. But then, I guess you tend to only learn by continuing to do things the hard way," Danny finished with a knowing chuckle.
Ramos took a tug at his bottle of water before he replied, "First, Your VP-ship Old Blot, I did not like the idea of having a bunch of mechanicals loaded into my body. I did not know what I know now. Besides, Shadows do not normally operate on ships and I wanted to kill Pirates. I know a lot of people that will never be right because of what Pirates did to them or their families when they were only kids."
"Second, your venerable Old-Blottedness, I can only assume that "by learning the hard way" you are referring to the ass kicking you gave me during our little bout yesterday. I asked to spar with you because I had to see for myself what a Shadow could do that I couldn’t. The only thing that really pissed me off was that I didn’t even make you sweat."
"Whoa there Studley, you did pretty damn good for someone who is not enhanced. You even managed to give me a bruise or two. There are a lot of Shadows that have never managed to do that. Once you are enhanced, you are going to be a handful. You might even help me push Kip a bit."
"Is Kip really so good that it takes you and someone else to push him?"
"Yep, he is. I watched four of the best Shadows I know, veteran operators and unarmed combat instructors all, go up against Kip. They were all down in three minutes and Kip had not been seriously touched. After you have been enhanced for a while, I will tell you how he does it. I mean, now that you are a super-secret type, a Vice President, and almost a legend in your own mind."
"Well thanks, Old Rotten Blot. And, for the record, I realize that I would not have bruised you at all if you weren’t trying so hard not to seriously damage me. Hey, it looks like this guy can hold an Iron Cross all day long. Ah, and now for the dismount? Wow, double twist. I’d give him at least a 9 in spite of the small step he took on the landing."
Danny mused, "I suppose it is time to do that recruiting thing. He sure checks out better than those other four we looked at."
Ramos couldn’t help but quip, "Yeah, you mean Tubby, Wimpy, Mr. Self -absorbed and, my personal favorite, the Butthead-of-All-Creation? I am sure they are all great recruiters, but if it took personality to earn food, those four would die hungry."
"Amen," said Danny standing up. "It looks like the man is coming our way."
"Great Iron Cross, Mr. Johnson," nodded Danny as Wayne Johnson walked up to them. "That takes a lot of muscle and focus."
"Thanks," Wayne said cordially. "I have been working on that ever since college. It is the main thing that kept me from being a serious gymnast. Not quite enough upper body strength on the rings."
"I would say that you have successfully overcome that problem," said Ramos holding out his hand. "I am Ramos Short and this is Danny O’Malley. Your office said you were here. We thought we would drop by. We are sort of the search committee for a very important position."
"Good to meet you, Gentlemen. It is not every day that a search committee comes to my gym to talk to me about a potential search. I am honored. What kind of search would you like me do for you?"
"Uh, have a seat, Wayne. We are not here to engage you to do a search. We are here because you are potentially the person we are searching for."
"I am really not looking
for a job, Mr. Short. Okay, uh, Ramos," he corrected when Ramos raised his eyebrows and put on a hurt face. "I own my own business, make my own hours, don’t work for people I don’t like, and am generally too much of a pain in the ass to make a good employee. I already have enough money to get by, so I am afraid you gentlemen wasted a trip. Besides, to know me is not necessarily to love me."
Danny smiled as he saw the club manager quietly convince the last person in the gym to leave as he stood guard outside the main gym door. He got Wayne’s attention by holding up his hand. He started talking as he walked over to the rings.
"Oh, but we do know you Wayne. BS Micro-Energy Systems Engineering, MS Accounting, CTA, Ex Commander in the Royal Navy, decorated for Valor twice, and the spinal injury you received in the shoot-out with those three pirate vessels never quite took the nano-aided-self-heal completely. That is why you had to take a step on your landing during that last dismount. You came down with your weight on your left side."
With that said, Danny launched himself to the rings and an iron cross. The rings did not move more than an inch before settling down to stillness. Danny held the Iron Cross effortlessly while talking.
"Our little conversation here is classified well beyond the highest clearance you held in the Royal Navy, Wayne. And, while the position we would like to have you consider will make you extremely wealthy, that is not why you should be interested enough to hear us out. Nor is the fact that it is important, history-making, fun, and may prove life threatening. But this is."
GalTech and the Shadow Warriors: Growth of a Star Empire Page 13
