Lucky Dave

by Pam Uphoff

  The man’s hand shoved further out and grabbed her hand and squeezed.

  "Oww! Now look here. We are friendly types and . . . damn it, that hurts!"

  The admissions nurse half stood to look at the hand. "Uh . . . the patient's name?"

  "I haven't a clue. Oy! Car thief, what's your name?"

  Nothing but cursing.

  The people sitting around the waiting room were looking their way. Comms were coming out and even a few specialty cams.

  Damn.

  Nothing to see here, just a cussing hand coming out of nowhere . . . using a glass bottle as a wedge . . . Guess his other arm is working. Or one or both of his friends are helping.

  "Hey I gave you that boost bottle, is it nice to use it against me?" Rael switched a smile back to the Admissions lady. "This will be charged to Imperial account number . . . Dammit."

  The man got his whole arm out and swung it around, mostly missing her. Shoved further out. Rael got both hands together on the other end of the bars . . . "Will you stop that! I'll get you in to see a doctor in just a minute . . ."

  Oh One, please tell me that isn't an actual Newsie with a professional vidcam . . .

  The arm swung down, bumped her leg, grabbed the fabric just above her knee and pulled.

  She staggered back, tripped over something, lost her grip . . .

  The man landed on top of her, twisting to get his good shoulder into her stomach.

  She wheezed out a lungful of air, and the bars skittered across the room.

  Ryol darted forward and grabbed them, squeezed them shut.

  "Shit!" The man kept his grip on her leg, got his left leg under him . . .

  Rael hit him with a sleep spell.

  Nothing.

  Stun.

  Son of a . . .

  She curled up and hit his wrist with the heel of her hand. He lost his grip but followed the momentum, lunged to grab the back of a chair, and hauled himself up to get his left leg under his center of balance. His head whipped around toward Ryol and he hopped toward her.

  Ryol back peddled and looked for running room.

  Rael rolled to her feet, managed to get half a lung full of air, and pounced.

  Almost got his arm twisted behind his back, but damn he was strong, and damn all tall men . . . he didn't even have a shirt on she could grab, but she managed to get her arm up and around his neck so she could pull his arm in . . .

  And feel the start of a countermove that stopped with a painful stumble . . .

  "Will you please stop before I accidentally hurt you? We are not your enemy. Just . . . "

  A string of curses . . .

  Then Ryol stepped up in front of the man.

  Rael sucked in another painful lungful to tell her to stay away . . .

  Ryol popped him on the nose with the bars.

  "Hey you! Listen up! Are you Lucky Dave? Qamar's told me all about you."

  Rael could feel the man's shock.

  "Qamar?"

  "Yeah, you know, Qamar ibn Nicholas? One of the Rangpur survivors who got out of Isakson's and Nicholas's doubled bags sixteen years ago?"

  "What?" The man started sagging.

  Rael hastily leaned to support him . . . growled and released his arm. "It's been over a thousand years since Fort Rangpur fell. The world is united and at peace. And if you'll stop being an idiot, we'll get you and your two friends some much needed medical care." Rael pulled her arm back over his shoulder and grabbed him around the ribs as he wavered.

  She looked over her shoulder. A sea of spectators. Half of them recording.

  Oh. Crap.

  "Could I get a gurney out here, please?"

  So we can do the rest of this in private, please?

  Apart from the large orderlies flocking in, two security guards . . . and the Speed Team. Excellent. At least there's someone I can order around . . . Oh, they're grinning. Great.

  And the man—Lucky Dave? Was still focused on the bars in Ryol’s hands.

  Ryol swallowed. "Who's in here? Did you save your brother? Qamar said you two were very close. And who's the third guy?"

  Rael could feel him tense at that, and took a wild guess. "Ah . . . You were the Prophet's bodyguard. Lucky Dave? Do you have Nicholas in there?"

  He was rigid now, quivering.

  "Stop it. We'll get Isakson and Ra'd here as soon as possible, oh, and Umaya and Jadida as well."

  "And Qamar! I've got her number, I'll call her." Ryol bounced a bit.

  Fortunately a gurney was wheeled in just then, because Lucky Dave was swaying and four nice big brawny orderlies were much better able to deal with the man.

  A doctor she remembered from her own long stay here hustled up and winced when he eyed the man's shoulder.

  "His right shin, too." Rael pulled the man's pants leg up.

  "Take him to X-ray."

  "Rael! Princess Rael!"

  Rael looked back. Oh One! The Newsie that always does the fluffy bits . . . she must have been here for some tear jerker about sick kids . . .

  "Rael! Did you say the Prophet Nicholas is alive?"

  Rael put on a polite expression. "All we know at this point is that we have another Bag of the Prophets from Rangpur. Three people, one possibly identified as, umm, Captain Dave ibn Daiki. The rest is speculation, and I'll come back and make a statement as soon as I have solid information." She'd started backing away halfway through speaking, tossing glances toward the departing gurney. She turned and ran after it.

  Caught the elevator.

  Ryol was patting Lucky Dave's foot. With the bars. "Relax. It's right here."

  "Stop waving it around like a magic wand!" His glare switched to Rael. "So tell me about who else survived!"

  "Isakson and Ra'd. Umaya and Qamar. Isakson's two wives, Meisha and Aisha, and their children. Karima is twenty-one now, Abbas is twenty-five and Hakim twenty-three. Fatina and her twins, they're fifteen. Jadida and her son, Ali, who is seventeen. Mona and her daughter Nalia, who is now nineteen."

  The elevator doors slid open and Rael got out of the way. Followed the gurney.

  Leaned on the wall outside the "imaging room" and pulled out her comm.

  Urfa first. "It looks like three more Rangpur survivors, possibly including the Prophet Nicholas. Lucky Dave hasn't actually admitted that's who he's got in there. Paranoid jerk. Isakson isn't answering his comm . . . "

  Ohhe snorted as he caught up to them. "On vacation. Told us where to put our electronic leash."

  Rael grinned. "And took everyone with him? See if you can reach Umaya or Jadida, they should come. And Ra'd."

  All four of them started punching comm buttons.

  Rael apologized to Urfa. "Lucky Dave has serious injuries—right shoulder and right leg—six week old—his time—at a guess. But since he was trying to exfiltrate what he thought must be enemy territory in that condition, I'm afraid the other two must be in worse shape. I may pull Xen in, in case there are problems he can handle better than our doctors."

  Which got her a glare from the doctor stalking past to enter the imaging room.

  "Good idea. Call me with updates. And by the way, it looks like you're in the news." He started chuckling. "Wait till you see yourself fighting the disembodied hand." Click.

  "Oh. One. There goes my reputation, again." She tapped out Xen's number. "Hi. Why don't you kick your other girlfriend out of bed and come help?"

  "I do not sleep with Barracuda."

  "And . . . Hang on a sec." Rael raised her eye brows at Scar.

  "Ra'd isn’t answering his comm, possibly in a bubble with Nighthawk?"

  "Ha! I heard that. Probably right too. You need him?"

  "Yes please. Soon but there's no danger here. Paris. Prophet's Memorial Hospital." Rael huffed out a breath of relief.

  "Ah . . . Mom? I . . . thought you were a better fighter than that?" Ryol blushed and dropped her chin.

  "I am. I wasn't fighting. I was trying to restrain him without hurting him, long enough to tal
k some sense into him. Good job, by the way." Rael giggled at the sideways glances of the team. "He has a badly injured shoulder and shattered shin bone. Set, sort of, by himself. Infected and nasty. I got a bit of joy juice into him, but he was still too damned easy to break. Not that I wasn't tempted to beat him over the head, but Ryol got through to him."

  :: Are you in a clear space?::

  Rael stepped out to the middle of the hall and waved the others back. :: I am now. ::

  Xen and Ra'd stepped out of nowhere.

  Ra'd stumbled a bit. "That's a lot of momentum change. Who's hurt?"

  “We’ve got some more Rangpur survivors.” Rael nodded at the gurney being wheeled out of imaging.

  "Bloody damn, they're going to break my leg and do surgery on my shoulder."

  Ra'd stepped forward and stared. "Lucky Dave?"

  Dave frowned, eyes widened. "You can't possibly be Ra'd?"

  "I'm fifteen years older than the last time you saw me." Ra'd was grinning . . . sobered. "Your brother?"

  Lucky Dave shot a cautious glance at her, then the team. "Ra'd, do you trust them? Really trust them?"

  "Paranoid twat." Rael glowered.

  "Yes, Captain. There's some weird things about the future, but they—especially the President and his people—are solid and trustworthy."

  Lucky Dave swallowed. "I have Davos and Nicholas both in the bag. They're in bad shape, Ra'd. So you'd better be right about these people."

  "Dad?" Ra'd's hands clenched on the gurney rails. "You saved . . . "

  "I hope. I did everything I could . . . but it may not have been enough."

  Ra'd looked back at Xen, who nodded. "Perhaps we should start by getting out of the hallway?"

  Lucky Dave pointed at Ryol. "And get the bag away from the infant menace."

  Ryol sniffed. "I'm sixteen. Just think what I'll be like when I hit eighteen." She scowled at the bars, then held them out to Dave.

  Dave snorted as he took them. "I shall savor the thought of what you will put your nasty aunt—or mother or whatever she is—through."

  Rael ignored him and caught the doctor's eye. "So you'll have two more patients, as soon as you're ready for them."

  The doctor shook his head. "You were much better behaved as a patient than you are as a visitor. Let's take them one at a time . . . although Dave, did you say? Will be on antibiotics. No surgery until that's completely cleared up." He glowered at Xen. "I . . . have heard things about your methods. I'd like to see them."

  "Round up any medgicians who want to see it and I'll demonstrate."

  Rael kept back out of the way, not being a big fan of medical procedures, and kept track by ear as Xen worked over Lucky Dave, his brother with abdominal injuries, and finally a comatose Prophet with multiple broken ribs and a punctured lung. Listened to the prognosis—good for all three—smirked at the poleaxed expressions of a dozen doctors and medgicians.

  Then she called Urfa, briefed both him and the president, and was given permission to tell all to the Newsies.

  Ryol jumped up all bright-eyed and headed for the hospital foyer.

  After Rael's nice factual briefing and attempts to answer questions, she found that one canny newsie had nabbed Ryol and gotten the whole story from her. Stolen car and all.

  "So, I expect you're about ready to head home?" The Newsie was all toothy grin.

  Ryol shook her head and bounced. "Oh heck no. I've got six more sites to check for lost Bags of the Prophets. No telling what we might find!"

  Epilogue

  "It's so nice to have a quiet house . . ." Raod snuggled up to her husband. "Half the number of children, a quarter the noise . . . " She broke off at the sound of running feet.

  Raaz. Ten years old! How time flies.

  The girl galloped in. "Ryol's on the screen! She rescued the Prophet Nicholas! There was a big fight in the hospital! Aunt Rael almost got beat up by this poor crippled guy!"

  Little Ox was on her heels. "And there was a HAND!"

  Excerpt from the next story

  A Prophetable Dimension

  Pam Uphoff

  Chapter One

  A few preps . . .

  Arno caught the sound of his step-brother’s voice coming from the other direction and turned back to follow it . He hoped Ebsa wouldn’t mind being used as a buffer, but he didn’t know Ra’d well enough to just walk up to him and start talking.

  Everyone tells me to get over being shy. Well, this isn’t shy. This is cautious. Because if this isn’t illegal, it’s just because no one’s thought about the possibility before . . . All right. Actually, it’s illegal.

  He spotted Ebsa sitting at a table lecturing a Warrior of the One.

  Well, that makes it easy.

  “. . . Not our world. Not really your father or your friends. That Prophet Nicholas can join, or not join, the One Mind as he wishes.”

  Ra’d drummed his fingers on the table. “No, he’s badly injured. They’ll have subsumed his personality, taken over, before he’s strong enough to fight them.”

  Yes! I knew he’d feel like this! That other One World only split off of ours sixty years ago . . . forty-nine for them . . . but it went in a totally poisonous direction. And the Bags of the Prophets split with them. Including the people inside, experiencing practically no time.

  Ra’d and his group reemerged sixteen years ago. The second group of Rangpur survivors just a month ago. On our One World. Where they were welcomed.

  The other One world? Right now, somewhere over there, there’s the second group, still sheltered in their bag. Injured. Low on supplies.

  That hive mind tried to take Ra’d and Abbas. What will they do with, or to, a Prophet who has never been a part of the Hive Mind? Who is injured, and helpless?

  But I know where they are.

  “You are under direct orders to not go to that World.”

  Ra’d spotted Arno as he approached, and sat back.

  Ebsa turned. “Hey Arno. What’s up? I thought yesterday was your last lesson with Q?”

  Arno grinned. “Yep. I opened three gates. And closed them.”

  Dimensional gates. Totally awesome.

  “So what’s up?”

  Ra’d was getting up, ready to get away from more lectures no doubt.

  “Actually, I need to talk to Ra’d. Alone.”

  That caught both their notices.

  Ebsa raised a dubious eyebrow, but moved to stand.

  Ra’d snorted and waved him down. “Finish your breakfast, you were so busy talking you didn’t eat anything. C’mon kid. You need an interview for school?”

  “Yeah . . .” Arno took a quick peek back to be sure they were out of Ebsa’s hearing range. “You know, the advantage of being sixteen is that you’re not in government or working someplace where . . . misbehavior . . . could reflect poorly on your immediate superiors. Because, you know, nobody thinks to order you to do, or not do, anything.”

  “I wouldn’t recommend misbehavior, merely because you wouldn’t get too many other people in trouble . . . you can open gates?”

  “Yes, and I’m good at spotting targets. Q pointed a bunch out to me.”

  “A bunch.” Ra’d’s voice was extremely neutral.

  “Yeah. And there are things that need to be done, the sooner the better.”

  A Prophetable Dimension is scheduled to be published in February 2019

  Other Titles by Pam Uphoff

  Wine of the Gods Series:

  Outcasts and Gods

  Exiles and Gods (Three Novellas)

  The Black Goats

  Explorers

  Spy Wars

  One Alone

  Comet Fall

  A Taste of Wine (Seven Tales)

  Dark Lady

  Growing Up Magic (Four Novellas)

  Young Warriors

  God of Assassins

  Heirs of Crown and Spear

  The Fiend

  Empire of the One

  Warriors of the One

 
; Dancer

  Earth Gate

  Mages at Large

  Triplets

  Sea Wolves

  Bad Karma

  Dark Side of the Moon

  Cascades

  Olympian

  Embassy

  Rael

  On the Run

  God of the Sun

  Cannibal World

  No Confidence

  Pure Poison

  Flying

  Last Merge

  Nowhere Man

  Black Point Clan

  External Relations

  Meet the Family

  Children of a Foreign God

  Mall Santa

  Saturday Night

  The Directorate Series:

  Directorate School

  A Tale of Three Interns

  Trouble in Paradise

  First Posting

  Surveillance

  Fort Dinosaur

  Shadow Zone

  Project Dystopia

  Fractured Loyalties

  Cooking Hot

  The Boy

  One Love

  A Warrior’s Art

  Scrambled

  The Lawyers of Mars

  Fancy Free

  Time Loop

  In the Rift

  Writing as Zoey Ivers

  YA Cyberpunk Adventures:

  The Barton Street Gym

  Chicago

  Atlantis+

  Fantasy:

  Demi God