by J. N. Chaney
I looked down at the man before me. There was still a man upstairs, locked in the closet. I could leave him alive and we could question him, find out more about them. I had no reason to keep this one alive, except—
Clementine’s face flashed before my eyes, and I remembered the way she killed that man on our first mission—sliced his throat in his own bed, and then the woman next to him. The bloodlust had grown in her like a cancer. Was I the same? Was I just like my sister?
I paused, and slowly took a step back from the trembling man at my feet. His eyes darted between my pistol and my face, confusion all over him.
I sat on the nearby bench, letting the gun dangle between my legs, all the energy in me suddenly gone.
“There’s two,” I muttered, letting out a sigh. “I’ve got two survivors.”
* * *
By the time I made it home, Mulberry was already there waiting for me. He’d arrived on-world less than an hour ago. In that time, the authorities had been dispatched, and our team had long since vanished. Our government contacts would omit whatever details they needed to avoid implicating our group. Such an arrangement would require compensation from Mulberry, but given Mable’s safety, I knew he was more than willing to pay.
Our team had to break into three groups, each taking an alternate, snaking path back home to escape any detection.
I had gone alone, taking a cab to the middle of the city, walking around a shopping plaza, and then using the guild’s anonymous shell account, I used another public transport to travel the rest of the way. I’d asked to be dropped off a quarter kilometer from the front door. I’d made it back slightly after dark.
Mulberry went to me as soon as he saw me, and he gave me the biggest smile I’d ever seen on him.
“How’d it go?” he asked, but we both knew it was only a courtesy. He’d likely already gone over the drone footage, not to mention Mable’s testimony.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You already know how it went.”
He gave me a chuckle. “I want to hear it from you. Mable said you did a fine job, but how did it feel?”
“Feel?” I echoed.
“That was your first time in the field in months,” he said, honestly.
“Oh,” I muttered, uncertain of what to say. The truth was, I felt exhausted, and the call of my bed tugged at me. Still, I found I was somehow happy, not only for Mable’s safety and the joy I saw in Mulberry’s eyes but also for the success of my mission. It felt right, every part of it. “Where’s Mable?”
He frowned, but only slightly. “She’s gone,” he said, sighing slightly. “She said to tell you thank you, but she had to leave. If I know her, and I’d like to think I do, she’ll find another church, maybe take another name. She knows the game well enough to stay out of trouble, especially after all of this.”
I could hear the sadness in his voice. The knowledge that he might never see her again was ever present in the back of his throat. I knew that feeling because I felt it with Clementine.
I reached out to grip his shoulder, and I hugged the old man with all the strength I had left. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
His arms wrapped around me, and he pulled me into his shoulder. He grunted, and I knew he meant the same.
* * *
A light tap at my door startled me awake.
I’d been reading, and I must have fallen asleep. The book was laying open across my chest, and I didn’t remember putting it down. I was halfway through the second to last story in the Tales of the Earth book, but I couldn’t remember where I’d stopped.
The mission must have worn me out more than I thought.
I checked the page number before putting the book down and standing up. I pressed the button to open the door, surprised to find Pearl standing on the other side. She looked more exhausted than I did.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
“Of course,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “What is it?”
In response, she showed me the bottle and two glasses she carried before coming inside.
She put the two glasses on my bedside table and poured some amber liquid into both. She handed me one and sat down on Clementine’s bed.
“So,” I said, eyeing the liquor in the glass suspiciously. “What’s up?”
She took a sip from her glass. “It’s been a long night. Mulberry’s not in the best mood, so I decided to hang out with you tonight. If you don’t mind, of course.”
I sniffed my glass and made a face. “What is this?”
“Bourbon. But they should have called it ambrosia, drink of the gods.” She raised her glass. “Bottoms up.” She downed what was left.
I took a sip and winced at the taste. My eyes bulged as the burning liquid went down my throat. “Ow. That’s just terrible. How do you drink this?”
She shrugged. “It gets better after five or six glasses.”
I sat down on my bed across from Pearl. “Are you drunk?”
She made a gesture with her hand. “About halfway there. I plan on going all the way tonight though if you get my meaning.”
“I don’t.”
She shrugged and filled her glass again. “You will.”
I inspected my glass and took another sip. I didn’t know why I expected it to go down any better, but I was gasping by the time it went down my throat. Pearl laughed and leaned over to refill my glass.
I took another drink of the fiery liquid. “Pearl, what’s Mulberry’s history with Sister Mable?”
Pearl leaned back on the bed, pressing her shoulder into the wall behind her. “They knew each other before they started this place. They founded it together, I suppose you could say.”
I leaned forward. “Together? I thought he built this place after she left him.”
She took another sip. “Oh, yes. They were equal partners in building this place. The fact that they were in love was a separate relationship, or so they liked to claim. The rest of us knew better, though.”
In love? I’d never known about that. From what little I’d gleaned by now, it was clear they’d worked together and had been friends, but to be in love was something else entirely. It redefined everything I knew about them. “I had no idea,” I muttered, trying to imagine them together, making eyes at one another. “Why did she leave?”
Pearl sighed. “I don’t know all the details. In those days, I spent a lot of time away, running jobs and training some of the newer recruits. Mable and Mulberry took care of the business side of things, giving out missions and targets. That’s not to say they didn’t still run jobs from time to time. In fact, that was ultimately the cause of why she left.”
“What do you mean?”
“She killed a little girl,” Pearl said, nonchalant as ever, and then took another sip of her drink. “Not intentionally, mind you, but it happened all the same. She and Mulberry took a contract on a man named Sordin Vae. They waited in his apartment, expecting him to be alone that night. He had joint custody of his daughter, but the intel said he’d be home alone that night. It was wrong, and the bomb they planted ended up taking both the target and his child out in the same, awful moment.”
I said nothing.
“Everything changed after that,” Pearl continued. “Mable stopped going on jobs. Mulberry started changing the way he ran the guild. Higher standards all around, no more bombs, only precision hits. He really stepped things up.”
I took another sip from the glass. It still burned all the way down, but like Pearl said, it was getting easier to bear. I was feeling a little woozy, though, so I shook my head when Pearl offered to refill my glass. “Was she Number Two?”
Pearl nodded. “Still is, and she always will be, so long as Mulberry has his way.”
I smiled at that.
“She left a year later,” Pearl told me. “Went to that church and took her vows. It devastated Mulberry. He begged her to come home. The fact is, she was his heart. I saw it in him, just as I saw it in her. That’s why she brought you girls here.
Even then, after almost ten years, she only trusted him. She knew he’d protect you like you were his own daughters, because she knew the depths of his love. That’s just the kind of man he is. He cares too much.”
“I had no idea,” I said, my eyes dropping to the floor.
“No, I don’t suppose you would,” she said. “Love is something for adults, and it makes them crazy and sick, all at the same time.”
“I hope I never have it, then,” I said, thinking that it sounded rather painful.
“Don’t say that,” Pearl said, and a slight smile poked through the side of her lips. “As hard as it was for him, I know Mulberry would never trade his time with Mable for anything, whether in this life or the next. She made him the happiest he’s ever been. As his friend, I was glad to see him so incredibly, stupidly in love.” Her eyes rose to meet mine. “And someday, Abigail, I hope to see the same in you, too.”
Seventeen
The alleyway was dark, and loud music from the nightclub next door vibrated through the walls. It was only a couple of hours from sunrise, but the music didn’t sound like it was going to be ending anytime soon.
I crouched down in between two dumpsters, twisting the silencer on my pistol, waiting for my target.
Jeremy Breen. That was the name of the man I was waiting for. Over the year or so after I’d helped Sister Mable, Mulberry let me switch between intel and normal fieldwork.
Breen wasn’t the kind of guy that our organization usually went after. Our bread and butter were thugs and self-styled kingpins. Breen’s company caught him embezzling money on Crescent, in a neighboring system.
One of the CEOs—someone that apparently had a lot to lose if this came to light—sought us out to deal with him. Quietly.
He had secrets, though. The kind that the company wanted to bury, too. The kind that made Mulberry think that this was a job for me. He didn’t tell me as much, but the fact that he presented the job to me personally was revealing.
A few weeks of surveillance had revealed Breen’s fondness for perversion. He visited the same kind of establishments in each city he went to. We didn’t usually dig into targets’ vices, but the fact that each of these places had a common denominator led to a deeper study. What was revealed made me sick. It also told me why Mulberry offered me the job.
When we interrogated the owners of these establishments, each one of them agreed that Breen liked them young. Too godsdamned young. When Mulberry told me about the job, I took it. He hadn’t even offered it to me yet, and I’d taken it. It was mine.
All I had to do was wait. I closed my eyes, rubbing my temples with my free hand. The music inside was starting to get on my nerves.
After another ten minutes, I heard a vehicle come to a stop just outside the alley.
I had brought a drone with me on this mission, and it was currently flying half a kilometer overhead, sending a magnified visual into my mask’s eyepiece.
The man just arriving was an infamous drug dealer, Jack Reeth, also known as The Jack of Knives. He’d made quite the name for himself, here on Crescent, and he’d since become the go-to source for smuggled arms and drugs across half the planet. He wasn’t my target, but he was here to meet with Breen, which opened up the possibility of clearing the streets of two problems at once. Sure, they’d only pay me for one of them, but who was I to turn down a little charity work?
I dragged the slide on my pistol back, slipping a round into the chamber.
“I have the goods you wanted, but this is way off what I usually make, Breen,” Jack said. “It’s going to be double the usual price. Last minute delivery fees, you know.”
I could almost hear the smile in his voice.
“Fine. I don’t care,” Breen said, slurring his words. “Just tell me that you have enough for a party.”
“Red splits, wild grass, and a few dozen Michaels,” Jack said, pulling something out of a small black case, small enough to fit in his pocket. “Careful you don’t get caught in there. And remember, you say my name to anyone, I’ll kill ya.”
Breen chuckled. “You’re a good friend, Knives.”
“So long as I get my money, sure,” said Jack.
My knees were beginning to strain in this position, so I shifted my weight a little. In doing so, my foot brushed against the gravel. It was quiet, but loud enough for them to notice.
Shit.
Jack paused, and I could see his attention shift to the back of the alley, even from my drone’s camera.
Looks like I have no choice, I thought, clutching my pistol.
I stepped out of hiding and raised my gun. I wasn’t ready to kill Breen yet, but I did want his attention.
“Hey, who the hell?” asked Jack.
I fired twice, hitting him in the chest and stomach. He fell to the ground, dropping the box of drugs into a small pool of rainwater.
Breen raised both his hands. Even from this far away, I could see him shaking.
“Hey, look, man,” Breen said, probably because of the mask I was wearing. “I’ve got money. Lots of it. Just take it and the drugs! Whatever you want!”
I tilted my head at him, keeping the weapon trained on his face. I slowly walked by him, towards the fresh body of his friend and dealer. Kneeling beside him, but still with my gun on my target, I quickly rummaged through Jack’s pockets. I stowed his credits and wallet, making certain to pull out every pocket.
“Yeah, that’s it, buddy,” said Breen. “Just take the money and leave me alone. I barely even know this guy. You can have my cash, too!”
“Thanks,” I said, getting back up. “But I’m just taking this to make it look like an amateur did this. Can’t have the police thinking it was a professional, you know.”
“O-oh,” said Breen. “S-sure, right. You got it, man. Just don’t do anything—”
The first shot ripped through his throat, making him stumble back. The second broke one of his ribs. The third splattered brains into the air behind him, all before he had a chance to put together what was happening.
I could have done it in a single shot, but that would have looked too professional. We didn’t have any contacts on this planet, so things had to be done a certain way to avoid an in-depth investigation, even though the target had been a lowlife.
Maybe fortune would favor me even further tonight, and the cops would arrest someone whom Breen owed money to. There were always rivals, always someone angry at someone else.
I found the drugs and the credit chits in his pockets and pulled his pad out. The contract had mentioned this device, so I was obligated to recover it, but a small part of me wanted to toss it. The buyer would probably use this for his own end. More drugs, more deals, and more crimes.
I felt dirty at the notion of bringing it back.
I walked out of the alley and started following the main street. Rows of nightclubs and bars lit up the noisy downtown along the glistening shoreline. It was where playboys like Breen came to party.
It also made for good hunting grounds.
* * *
A lot of people didn’t like space travel. Some even had valid reasons for it, but no one could deny that the view was fantastic. Slip tunnels, nebulae, and an endless sea of stars, but among them all, I had to say that seeing a slip tunnel had become a personal favorite of mine.
I still remembered the first time I’d entered one. The emerald green was so bright that it made me flinch, almost afraid of what I was seeing. I’d only heard about them in books before that, but neither pictures nor beautiful descriptions could replace the reality of their splendor. A sort of milky, flowing green, an infinite number of layers between them, and lightning from a hundred thunderstorms.
I’d heard you never got used to it, and seeing it now, I believed that was true. I couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of this.
I leaned back into my seat, watching the tunnel flow by. My book was on the control panel, but on shorter trips through the tunnels, I found it was more relaxing just to sit back and w
atch.
A notification appeared on my screen, telling me that we would be dropping out of the tunnel in five minutes. I pulled my feet off the dash and strapped myself in.
Once the countdown reached zero, the straps dug into my chest as the transport vessel created an opening to normal space.
The comm-link pinged, an automatic hail from Ruto Port.
The ship was smaller than most, so the pilot was only a short distance from my seat, allowing me to hear every word of his response. “Port Authority, this is Shuttle AF-475, requesting permission to enter dock, over.”
A pause and crackle of static. “Shuttle AF-475, you are clear for landing,” the artificial intelligence returned. They never used real people for the ports if they could help it. That was only on smaller worlds, colonies, and military bases.
Entering the atmosphere took some time, but we landed without any problems. It took about thirty minutes to get through customs, but all of my papers checked out. According to the system, I was in sales, working for a company that specialized in medical equipment, grooming supplies, and lamps. Even when your corporation was fake, it was important to diversify.
A small shuttle waited for me at the port. I’d been away from the complex for a while, and even though I enjoyed my freedom more than I cared to admit, the urge to sleep in my own bed pulled at me.
“Welcome back, ma’am,” said the driver, a man I recognized as Portillo. He was a year older than me, but I outranked him by twenty. Over the last twelve months, I’d shot up to Number Eleven, all at the insistence of Mulberry. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but after what happened with Mable, he’d been more than insistent.
I adjusted my pad to the local time. It was nearly dinner, and the sun was beginning to set. Thankfully, I’d maintained my sleeping schedule during the trip, so my rhythm wasn’t too far gone. If I could last another five hours, I’d crash and get an early start on things tomorrow morning.
As we pulled into the shuttle bay, I saw Pearl and Mulberry talking to two boys I didn’t recognize. They had to be new.
Their eyes fell on me as the cab door opened, and I could tell something was up.
