DB Sommer
9th July 2004, 05:00 PM
Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot
Chapter 9
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xxxxxxxxxxxxx
"I can't believe you slept with my son!"
"I can't believe you didn't tell me he was your son!"
Accusations echoed within the confined space of the Creeper V, fueling the
already high level of agitation both Kei and Iria suffered from. Had there
been others around, perhaps they would have defused the situation, but only
the streaks of stars passing through hyperspace accompanied the two women
after their hasty departure from Myce.
Their privacy might have been for the best, since neither woman wanted any
other participants involved in their conversation. They had a situation to
discuss, a very unexpected one, and resolving it would require no
interruptions. That was the main reason Iria had escorted Kei off planet
immediately instead of waiting for Mikael to turn the information over to
her. Ostensibly she told him it was because she needed Kei on hand if Zeiram
should appear again. She suspected her son knew the real reason behind their
hurried exit, but luckily he was sensible enough to accept the explanation
without protest.
The drive to the spaceport and takeoff that followed had passed in silence.
It wasn't until after clearing orbit and a successful transition into
hyperspace that the conversation, which was more an exchange of accusations,
began.
Iria frowned at Kei. "I didn't say anything because I wanted the two of you
to meet without any silly preconceived notions about one another and act
awkwardly or something. I thought it would be easier for you to get to know
one another solely on the basis of who you are instead of your relationships
to me." Iria became somewhat less angry, as though she conceded Kei her
point.
"We got to know one another, all right," Kei shot back, her anger not
mollified.
There was a pause in the conversation, then Iria said, "I mean, even in my
wildest dreams, I didn't think something like this would happen. I figured
you'd talk a bit, maybe eventually learn who you were, and then we'd have a
good laugh about it later."
"Ha, ha, ha. I am so amused, I'm practically in tears," Kei said dryly.
Iria ignored the sarcasm, locked in on her own thoughts. "Okay, maybe if he
was a bit older I could see it happening. Maybe. But I think his age should
have slowed things down a bit. He is only eighteen."
You wouldn't know it by how skilled he is in bed, Kei made certain not to
say out loud. Iria was taking things well -relatively- but there was no way
Kei could mention that little detail and not have her head bitten off. After
meeting Mikael, she couldn't believe that was his actual age. Physically he
appeared to be at least in his early twenties, and judging by the women's
reaction at the bordello, he had been a regular there in more than a casual
way for some time. His stamina was that of a horny teenager, though. It was
a not altogether unsatisfactory compromise between his apparent and actual
age.
Iria's tone became accusatory again. "But it was only three days, Kei.
That's awfully fast for two people that just met to hop into bed together. I
mean, that's barely enough time to exchange names."
"We knew each other's names," Kei said defensively. Not last names,
obviously, but she knew lots of people only by their first name. Of course
she didn't sleep with any of them, so it wasn't exactly the same thing.
Iria continued as though Kei had said nothing. "And then he was supposed to
slice the information, which would have taken up a lot of time as well. How
much did he get done, by the way?"
Kei twitched, as though she the screwdriver she was jamming in the a light
socket suddenly hit paydirt. Reluctantly she said, "He didn't get a chance
to start."
"It took you that long to find him? I thought you said you met him your
first day there."
"Yeah, I did" Kei said evasively. Dodging the Mustang had been easier than
dodging these questions.
"Then why didn't he get more..." Iria trailed off as her mind began putting
Kei's reaction together with what was being said. "Kei, how long was it
after you met him that the two of you hopped into bed together?"
"It was after I had been caught in three death defying situations. Four if
you count the cab ride though Myce," Kei said defensively.
"How long is that in days?"
Kei remained silent.
"How long?"
"A couple of hours," Kei mumbled.
"You guys were sleeping together just two hours after you met?!"
"It might have been closer to three. I wasn't keeping track of the time with
everyone shooting at me," Kei said hopefully.
"You barely came into sight of one another before you were doing it?!"
"What can I say? We clicked as soon as we met."
Iria stared out the viewport, stunned into silence. Kei had never seen her
mentor quite like that. Of course, Kei had never slept with any of Iria's
children either. It was new ground for both of them.
Not that any of it was Kei's fault, the troubleshooter assured herself. A
responsible person would have mentioned at some point in their numerous
conversations that the slicer Kei was supposed to rendezvous with happened
to be Iria's son. Had she gone in knowing that, she wouldn't have viewed him
as a suave, self-confident, handsome guy who it turned was not only skilled
and well-endowed, but had great endurance as well. He even wanted to talk
and cuddle once things cooled off instead of congratulating himself on his
prowess and falling asleep, like most men. Now Kei found him so deeply
etched into her mind as someone to keep around for relationship purposes
that it was difficult thinking of him in terms of being related to Iria and
theoretically off-limits. Very difficult. His tongue was borderline
prehensile!
Kei shifted in her seat in discomfort, and not solely at Iria's own
tongue-lashing She really needed to stop thinking of Mikael in that way.
Iria came out of her stupor and moaned, "I should have seen this coming.
It's so typical."
"Excuse me! I do not usually jump in the sack that quick with most guys!"
Probably no more than once or twice at the most. It wasn't like she kept
track of the number of her lovers anymore than she did her bodycounts.
"I meant from Mikael, though I did expect better from you," Iria clarified.
"He's always been this way. I never should have let that idiot, Fujikuro,
watch him when I went offworld on hunts!"
"That was pretty stupid." Growing up, Kei had been left in Fujikuro's care
several times when Iria had to leave the planet on business and couldn't
take Kei along. He was far from an ideal man to help raise one's children.
His opinion of girls was that they should not drive fast, shoot guns, bring
in criminals, or any other fun stuff, and he had no reservations about
lecturing a young Kei concerning his opinion. Of course, given Kei's
personality, the bounty hunter's attempts to dissuade her from learning all
of those things made her want them even more. The only good thing to come
from spending time with Fujikuro was that every now and then he would break
down (usually under heavy assault of flattery) and teach her a thing or two
about explosives or firearms. It was nowhere near as thorough as Iria's
training, but he passed on a bit of his own knowledge to her. But overall,
the experiences of being under his tutelage had not been very enjoyable.
Kei's reminisces were cut short as Iria continued on with her own.
"I just thought a male figure in his life would be good for him, even
someone as stupid as Fujikuro." Iria explained. "At first, I had no idea
that idiot was meeting that madame of his every now and then when I left
Mikael with him. And when he was off... doing it, he let all of the girls
there watch Mikael. Not that Mikael wasn't being taken care of. He was only
about seven or so when Fujikuro first began taking him there, and they all
thought he was cute and doted him all the time. Honestly, they spoiled him
rotten. I think it's because almost none of them have kids. But that wasn't
important. Anyone with an ounce of sense would never think of taking a child
to a bordello. Do you know what that bastard Fujikuro said the first time I
caught him taking Mikael there?"
"No."
"'Most guys would love being raised in a whorehouse'. I punched his lights
out for that one, let me tell you." She sighed. "I knew I shouldn't have let
Mikael go back, but he loved it there, and they did take good care of him.
He kept begging and pleading for me to let him stay when I was offworld, and
I broke down and let him. I mean, it was okay in the beginning, until he hit
fifteen or so. Then the girls starting taking a different sort of interest
in him, and him in them. He's always looked older than he actually was, so
that didn't help things. And he just has to look like that piece of shit
father of his."
"Killgore's his father?" Things had been so hectic Kei hadn't considered the
matter of paternity. Once she did, she realized Killgore and Mikael did look
a bit like one another. Mostly in the eyes and definitely with the smile.
"Yes, but don't let him know," Iria said, an edge of panic in her voice. "I
told Mikael his father was dead. Even Lance doesn't know. He left before I
knew I was pregnant, and I have no intention of letting him ever going near
my son. If that bastard tries it, I'll shove the explosives up his ass
myself!"
Kei shuddered at the tone Iria was using. She had no doubt the woman
probably would at least shoot at him, if such happened. She seemed to become
a bit irrational in matters concerning her ex-husband. It would definitely
be best to put the whole Killgore-Mikael connection out of her mind.
The rage left Iria's voice as she returned to the matter of her son.
"Anyway, growing up in the bordello gave Mikael a certain... way, with
girls. He doesn't use them and discard them or anything like that. It's just
that he finds it easy to be charming, and he's like that all the time when
he's with any girl he finds attractive. It's like a reflex, the same thing
as you or me blinking our eyes. I don't think he even knows how not to be
charming."
"You got that right," Kei said with a smile, which disappeared when Iria
glared at her.
"His charm, combined with his looks, has ended up... well, let's say he has
a lot of eager female admirers drop by. It drives me insane having to fend
off so many cheap little floozies from trying to hit on him, not that he
shows much in the way of standard and tries to resist their advances. I
think he's slept with half the eligible girls in Myce. I'm probably lucky
I'm not a grandmother a dozen times over," Iria lamented. "He gets it from
his father. That bastard couldn't keep away from women either. At least I
hammered into Mikael's head that he's to treat women with respect."
"He does," Kei said quickly, then shut up again as she decided this was not
territory she wanted to venture into with Iria.
"I just want him to settle down with a good girl," Iria complained. "He's
never had a steady girlfriend. I want him to be normal. Is that too much to
ask?"
Sensing her mentor needed consoling, Kei put an arm affectionately around
her. "Don't worry. I'm sure he will. After all, you helped raise me, and I
turned out normal."
Iria gave her a half-lidded stare. "Kei, I said I was proud of you. I didn't
say you were normal."
"But I am normal." Mostly. Okay, not many people had destroyed entire
planets. But besides her destructive tendencies she was overall normal.
And Kei was surprised to discover she agreed with Iria, in a way. For some
odd reason, she didn't approve of Mikael sleeping around either. Those girls
at the bordello were way too possessive of him being their personal boytoy
when business was slow. He probably ought to look into getting a nice,
stable relationship with someone who was mature and available, and who could
keep up with him sexually, since he was quite the energetic stud. It would
definitely have to be someone older, since a woman's sex drive increased as
she got more mature. He should be looking for someone like that
"Kei, is something wrong? You look a little flushed."
That snapped Kei out of the fantasy that had built up around who the ideal
woman for Mikael was. "Ah, nothing. I was just thinking about Zeiram. Tell
me what happened while I was gone," Kei said, eager to change the subject.
Iria nodded, seemingly just as eager. "Well, we went to this space station,
that's no longer there by the way, when-"
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Kei tensed slightly, as she always did, when walking through the umbilical
that connected the Creeper V to the Lovely Angel. The journey from Myce had
taken an hour, which had been more than enough time for Iria to inform her
of what had happened during Kei's absence. Already her mind was pondering
what Zeiram, and his handler's, latest actions meant. Unfortunately, like
Iria, she still hadn't come up with any answers.
Now that Kei was finally returning to the shot up remains of her own ship,
she considered a more urgent matter: what to say to Yuri about the trip.
Back on Myce, the original plan had been for Kei to brag about how she had
landed herself a young stud while Yuri had been left as lonely and
frustrated as ever. That plan had gone out the airlock. Since Yuri was bound
to find out Mikael was Iria's son, that meant not breathing a word of their
illicit affair, which had been really fun and the perfect salve for the
wounds her recent birthday had inflicted upon her. It almost hurt, not being
able to brag about it to Yuri. But it had to be that way. Kei would claim
everything went as planned. She met the guy, dropped off the chip, and got
drunk. And she'd be sure to tell Yuri Mikael was gay, since there was no way
in Hell Kei would let Yuri even think of having him for herself. It was a
secret Kei would be taking to her grave.
The airlock to the Lovely Angel irised open, revealing a waiting Yuri next
to the door.
Yuri stopped leaning casually against the wall, uncrossed her arms, and
said, "Shame on you, Kei, sleeping with Iria's son. That's almost the same
thing as incest. And he's so young, it's practically pedophilia as well."
Kei recoiled in horror. "How-" she gulped out.
Yuri could barely reign in the laughter at seeing her partner in such a
flustered state. "Bob told me."
Kei snarled. Bob must have been listening in on their conversation on the
way back and let his loose synthesizer spout every deep lurid detail to
Yuri. Kei was going to find a few dozen viruses to insert into his system to
show what she thought of computer intelligences who couldn't keep their
noses out of matters that didn't concern them and felt the need to spew
their gossip to the last person in the world who needed to hear it.
Yuri tried to be serious, but her mirth broke through the illusion of
disapproval she was trying to project. "Really, Kei, you let your animal
impulses get you into so much trouble. You wouldn't see me throwing myself
on my back and spreading my legs for some guy I just met."
Kei removed a small holographic projector, one she had purchased during a
slow part of her second day on Myce, and held it in the open palm of her
hand. She thrust it in Yuri's direction so she could see it clearly. Her
finger clicked the side and activated the hologram, letting it show off a
picture of Mikael. He standing alone, posing by leaning against a wall and
unleashing that smile that Kei had found so intriguing. She had originally
taken the picture when she had intended to tell Yuri everything.
"Wow, he's cute!" Yuri whistled appreciatively.
Point proven, Kei shut down the device and returned it to her pocket. There
were some other, more risqué pictures in there she had no intention of
sharing with Yuri. "And it is not incestuous, I'll have you know. I'm not
related to him anymore than I am to you."
"But Iria's like a mother to you," Yuri taunted.
It was Kei's turn to shift uncomfortably at Yuri's point, which was true,
unfortunately. "Well, yeah, but he wasn't like a brother to me since I never
met him until three days ago," Kei said, trying to retake the initiative.
"And he's what, fifteen?"
"Eighteen and you just whistled at his picture, my fellow 'pedophile'," Kei
pointed out. "And he looks older than that. At least early twenties. And you
know as well as I do that when it comes to guys 'eighteen' is just another
word for 'stamina'."
"And 'inexperience'." Yuri remembered well her encounters with eighteen year
olds, back when she was eighteen herself, of course. Unlike Kei she was no
pedophile trying to take advantage of poor naive teenagers.
"Actually he was raised in a bordello, and learned lots of neat and
interesting things from the professionals there. I learned a new trick or
two as well," Kei boasted.
Yuri considered that. "He roll over and play dead afterwards?"
"Cuddled and talked."
Yuri slapped a hand affectionately on Kei's back. "Sounds like he'd be a
keeper... if he wasn't your brother."
"He is not my brother!" Kei insisted.
"And to think, if you were to marry him and have kids, he'd have more in
common with them than you since he'd be so much closer in age to them."
"He is not that young!" Kei looked angry enough to go for the sidearm Iria
had given her to replace the one that had been destroyed in the bar.
"Oh, relax. Let's just forget this whole thing and never bring it up again."
While Yuri's mouth said one thing, the twinkle in her eyes informed Kei that
this would never be forgotten, and would actually be brought up repeatedly
for a very long time to come, just like every other bad thing Kei had ever
done that Yuri had found out about. It was times like these that Kei
understood the 3WA's age old axiom about treating one's partner with respect
since 'they know where all the corpses are buried'.
The two began to make their way to the bridge. As they walked, Yuri's
demeanor became more serious. "I'm worried about that attack on you by the
Mustang. That thing with that Ballless guy was probably coincidence, but I
don't think the fighter attack was."
"Two coincidences is one too many," Kei agreed. "The question is who sent it
out and how did they know where I was."
"Only a few people knew you'd be out there at that time." Yuri watched Kei
closely to gauge her response.
"Which means either a leak on Killgore's side or they tracked me by some
sort of unknown means," Kei supplied in answer. "Tormand is a big
corporation. They might be able to track us somehow with some weird new
device."
"Maybe, but there's something else you should know that complicates things."
"Oh?" Kei came to a stop and arched her eyebrow in curiosity.
"I sent a report to headquarters on the situation and requested backup."
Kei went from curious to angry in the blink of an eye. "I told you we can
handle things!"
"Like we have so far?" Yuri retorted. "We've been running after Zeiram for
way too long, and end up only picking up after him, when he isn't nearly
killing us. He's blazing a trial of destruction of the kind the press
usually blames us for, and we aren't any closer to stopping him. Also there
seems to be some other player in the game and we don't know who, which
really bothers me. As much as I want to trust Killgore and company, I can't,
especially after you were nearly killed just after you left here."
Kei wanted to disagree with her, but it was futile. The damage was done, and
Yuri's points were valid, even if Kei hated the fact more than anything. "So
what did headquarters have to say?"
"Nothing, and they've had plenty of time to respond," Yuri intoned
ominously. "I sent the message three times. Even with the distances
involved, communications satellites should have relayed the message a dozen
times over by now."
"Did you check our communications array? It did take a nasty beating when we
went head to head with that battleship."
Yuri nodded. "Everything checked out. I ran diagnostics three times. On the
offhand chance the diagnostics is also bad, I had Bob send the message, too.
He didn't get a response either. He can't figure anything wrong at our end.
It seems like the message is being sent out with no problems."
Kei felt a creeping tension seep into her stomach. While she didn't want
headquarters involved at the moment, she did want the option of calling in
reinforcements should the situation take a turn for the worse. Or more
worse, to be accurate. "So either headquarters can't answer, won't answer,
or our communication isn't getting through."
"Bad news, no matter the situation. I kind of doubt it's the first, though.
If anything really bad happened at HQ, they would have said something on the
news. That's not the sort of publicity that can be locked down"
"Where's the nearest divisional office out here?" Kei asked.
"Fifteen star systems away." The 3WA's main tools were field agents sent out
to trouble spots, not setting up expensive, permanent ground facilities on
thousands of planets on the offhand chance they'd be needed there someday.
With the 3WA's charter, their agents were allowed to go just about
everywhere and do nearly everything. Agents could usually requisition
whatever specific items they needed for the field from most local planetary
governments if it came to that.
"We could try sending out the request using someone else's deep space
transceivers," Kei suggested.
Yuri shook her head this time. "There's no guarantee we'd be able to receive
a response at our ship since we aren't getting anything from HQ now, and
staying in one spot long enough to wait for a response, if there is one,
isn't likely due to how fast we've been on the move. Even now Killgore's
trying to figure out where Mushroom Head might be heading next."
"Did they figure out what he wanted on the station?"
"From the looks of things, he just trashed another YSC facility, though I
think there was something else involved too. Zeiram didn't stick around to
kill enough people."
"I thought the space station was destroyed."
"It was, but it was by coincidence, not design. I can't help but feel there
was something other than destroying another YSC facility behind this."
"You think Killgore's holding out on us?"
"Or his employers are," Yuri said. "He is just like us, a field agent. You
know how our HQ likes giving things out on a need to know basis. I doubt if
working for a corporation the size of YSC is any better."
"I bet the pay's better," Kei grumbled.
"Looks like you're going to get your wish about going this alone."
"Only now I'm beginning to think you're right about needing help," Kei
lamented, about both possibly wanting help and admitting Yuri had been
right. "Maybe Mikael will be able to get us the information we want. He
seemed like he knew his stuff."
Yuri became playful. "Yes, tell me all about him. Is it true what they say
about incest being the best?"
"Would you knock it off?!" Kei raged.
Yuri turned at an intersection and ran down one of the longer corridors
running the length of the ship, shouting over her shoulder. "Wait until I
tell everyone back at HQ about this!"
"Don't you dare breathe a word of this to anyone, or by the time I'm done
with you, you'll wish Zeiram had chewed you up and used your DNA to crap out
Zeiramnoids," Kei promised as she raced after her partner.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Iria finished disconnecting the umbilical linking the two ships and pulled
away from the Lovely Angel. She watched the instrument panel carefully until
the connector had been retracted and safely stored in its proper place.
Bob's voice suddenly filled the ship. "' I didn't say anything because I
wanted the two of you to meet without any silly preconceived notions about
one another and act awkwardly or something.' Oh please."
Iria glared at the portable computer on her wrist. "What's that supposed to
mean? And what did I tell you about eavesdropping on private conversations?"
"That I should listen to everything, while pretending I'm not, and only
interject myself when I feel it's warranted."
"I never said that!"
"I did, and since this is a partnership of two, I do it half the time. And
quit trying to change the subject."
Iria's eyes darted around the confines of the ship. "I have no idea what you
mean. And I need to clean up around here. It's a mess." Iria began to throw
away the assortment of open food containers that Kei had discarded on the
floor during their return trip.
"You can't fool me," Bob's voice warned. "You were trying to match them up,
weren't you? Only things progressed a lot faster than you wanted."
Iria stopped what she was doing and looked guiltily at her wrist computer.
"I just want Mikael to settle down a little. He's more promiscuous than a
football team with unlimited access to cheerleaders and booze. And Kei needs
to settle down, too. She takes way too many risks and is lucky to still be
alive. And it's not like she's getting any younger, and I know for a fact
she doesn't have any romantic prospects right now. I just think if the two
of them were to become an item one thing might lead to another and everyone
would be happier for it." She smiled hopefully at the terminal.
Bob's voice remained disapproving, but with some of the edge lost to it.
"But Mikael is your son and Kei was sort of like your daughter. It does
sound kind of bad, the idea of you matching them up."
"But she's not my daughter, and I never really though of her in those sorts
of terms. I was only eighteen when I picked her up, and she was six. She was
more like a little sister than anything, and even then it wasn't exactly
like that," Iria pointed out.
"You were certainly a mother figure to her."
Iria chewed her lip. "Just because I didn't view her as a daughter doesn't
mean I didn't love her just as much," she said defensively. "In any case,
I'm doing what any proper guardian and mother would do in looking out for
their collective welfare."
"I guess so," Bob said reluctantly. Despite being electronic, the tone all
but said that while he didn't approve of what was happening, he was resigned
to letting it happen without further protest.
"And it's not like I'm trying to push them together or anything," Iria said
with a touch of pride at being able to beat Bob in an argument. It didn't
happen often. He was the more level-headed of the two, and even at her
worst, Iria never believed otherwise. "I just let them meet under neutral
circumstances. They're doing everything themselves. I'd prefer they take
things slower is all. I mean, they should have dated for a while before
going that far," Iria grumbled as she remembered the first moment she
spotted the pair together in their room at the bordello. Ideally, she wanted
them to have a long lasting and permanent relationship, not a quick roll in
the hay followed by a shallow, torrid fling. That was the main reason she
had warned Kei after catching the two of them in the act (almost). Hopefully
her former ward would take the advice to heart. Only time would tell how the
two would react the next time they met each other. She hoped it wouldn't be
too awkward.
Iria noted Bob had been silent for a while. "You won't tell them my ulterior
motives?"
"The damage is already done. Besides, it does make things interesting around
here." Bob laughed in amusement.
"Interesting things are not something my life lacks," Iria said dryly.
Bounty hunting made for a very interesting life. While there were plenty of
dry, dull cases, with bail jumpers, computer hackers, or kids making off
with stolen property, Iria's efficiency and reputation meant she had plenty
of other, more risky assignments offered to her. Serial killers, mass
murders, and gangs of thieves and thugs that would slit a person's throat as
often as they had to relieve themselves had all been brought in by her.
Interesting things indeed.
Iria wondered if it was time when she should make them less so. She had
built up a good bit of money over the years for taking on the most dangerous
of cases. Only travel fees, ammo and weapons costs, some medical bills, and
replacing destroyed spaceships were her only real expenses. Mikael was
already making enough money doing computer work to support himself and his
own apartment, and he took pride in that fact. He lived on his own, buying
whatever he needed without asking for a credit from his mother. He had even
offered to loan her money if she needed it, not that she did. His
intelligence and independence was something that filled Iria with motherly
pride, even if she felt a touch sad that her son had grown up to the point
that he no longer needed her for such things.
By now Iria had a sizable nest egg, one that would allow her an early
retirement, or at least to cut back on the number of jobs she had to take.
Finances weren't a problem. There was also her health to consider. Her body
wasn't what it used to be, and the aches and pains from taking down a
difficult bountyhead didn't disappear like they used to. She still had a
lingering stiffness in her elbow from taking a bullet several missions ago,
and her back grumbled at her when she slept wrong. It reminded her of her
own mortality, though she still felt ten years younger than her actual age.
But sooner or later time would catch up to her and dull her reflexes. That
could mean the difference between life and death, or at least life and a
nasty maiming. She still had all of her original body parts, and intended to
keep it that way.
With all the elements of the past coming together this way: Kei, Killgore,
and Zeiram, Iria could not help looking back and reassessing what her life
was actually like. It left her wondering if maybe she should stop merely
pondering retirement and take the actual step toward it. The more she
thought about it, the more she liked the idea. The timing was too perfect.
It would be nice to stop and enjoy life for a change, especially if Mikael
and Kei calmed down a bit and she could stop worrying about them as well.
It was something to seriously consider. She'd have to think about it after
she put Zeiram down for good. So long as he existed, she could never
consider retirement, never consider rest, not even for a second. The
abomination had taken her beloved big brother, Gren, from her, made her
destroy what remained of him when that monster merged with his body. Gren's
face bubbling out from Zeiram's body still haunted her dreams every now and
then, and she would wake up bathed in sweat and eyes tearing as she
remembered her greatest failure. Her hatred for the inhuman monster was
all-consuming, and she would track him to the ends of the universe until she
was a hundred if that was what it took to eradicate his vile form for
eternity. Twenty-seven years ago she had thought she was successful; this
time there would be no chance of a slip up, no matter who she had to kill.
This was the last time the name 'Zeiram' would ever pass through anyone's
lips.
"Just wait, you bastard. I'm coming," she whispered under her breath.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Lance Eugene Killgore head was tilted upward as he stared in consternation
at the communication screen that took up the majority of the wall in front
of him. The purloined ship from Farscots had also been designed by them.
Their culture seemed to have a fixation on excessively large screens that
tilted upward so one had to angle their heads to look at them. It was odd,
and hard on the neck when one had to communicate over a long period of time
with someone.
Currently the screen depicted the image of a slender woman that appeared to
be in her early twenties. She had wavy chestnut-colored hair that stopped in
the middle of her shoulderblades and a beauty that would have made men stop
in their tracks if it wasn't for the ice that was ever present in her blue
eyes. They were as cold as a robot's, and Killgore had a feeling that making
love to her would have had all the passion of such. No, it would have been
worse, since fooling around with machines was supposed to lack emotion, and
to have a person respond similarly would have been wrong on some instinctive
level.
The woman known to Killgore only as Springer was his contact with
Yurenex-Solivar Corporation. The tight fitting business suit she wore cost
more than what 99% of the employees of her company made in a year, though
he'd wager she didn't exist anywhere on their payroll. YSC was like anyone
in a position of power that liked doing things under the table, and made
culpable deniability an art form.
From the information Killgore had gathered, Springer was the company's go-to
person for physical solutions to problems that required ignoring legal
boundaries, and she had sufficient connections to access many forms of
physical solutions. That was about all he had learned of her, despite his
extensive check into her background. The woman was as mysterious as she was
inhuman. Killgore didn't like not knowing what the people he dealt with were
like or what was at stake when was hired to do a job. Many of those seeking
out his services were already backstabbers to begin with, and few of them
had any compunctions about doing the same to him in the name of expediency.
YSC was better about it than most, having paid him well and dealt with him
honestly before. They seemed pragmatic about the need to keep Killgore
informed on what he needed to know to complete the tasks they assigned him.
Until now.
Zeiram's path (which was actually Anton Scorphius' path) had been
straightforward at first, knocking out every YSC holding, legal or
otherwise, that stood in his path. Since the destruction of the YSC liner,
it had become erratic and unreadable, at least to Killgore's perspective.
YSC had been certain the next target would be Station Zionacht and they had
been correct, though they hadn't informed Killgore of why that was. When he
sent them the information on what had transpired at the station, they had
again gone silent until this most recent communiqué.
"I really don't like being kept in the dark about things like this,"
Killgore growled, letting his displeasure be known. It wouldn't intimidate
or scare Springer, he wasn't sure anything did, but she would inform her
superiors that their number one mercenary field team was displeased.
Killgore was on retainer, not an employee. Beholden to them he was not, and
he could pull out on them at any time for only the cost of his retainer. It
was in situations like this he was sorely tempted to do just that.
Springer's voice was cool professionalism. While not exactly emotionless, it
was closer to analytical than robotic. "It was deemed you didn't need to
know, and you didn't. We pointed you in the right direction. You failed to
deliver the goods."
"It was hostile territory, and I had to ascertain the target's location if
you want me to do what you asked me to. I couldn't exactly just blow the
station apart."
"Yet that's what happened in the end,"
"Thanks to your boss's little brother screwing around and that defect in
your Bottweilers. Without them running interference, we'd have nailed big
mean and green." While that wasn't the unequivocal truth, neither could it
be refuted. It never hurt to emphasize how badly misinformation could
undercut the ability to achieve one's goals.
Springer displayed no reaction to Killgore's reprimand. "I'll download the
data to you. In the meantime, you now know exactly where Zeiram's next
target is: our facility on Terrakon 6. This is the only location with the
necessary elements to complete the compound. I should warn you, this is only
a facility on the planet. We do not control the city or the defense forces,
which are considerable. Do not come in with guns blazing. You will act in a
discreet manner. You will rendezvous at the location where you will work in
the operation with another team."
Another team. That didn't bode well. So far YSC had been content to allow
the teams on this hunt to operate independently, giving Killgore and his own
a wide berth. "I don't like other guys hanging around. It cramps my style."
"Then you should have acquired the target at its last location. It has been
judged you are in need of support."
"I've already got support."
"Yes, an outer rim bounty hunter and the Dirty Pair." Now there was a hint
of emotion in Springer's voice. Just the barest hint of anger. It surprised
him. He hadn't thought her capable of any emotion. "We do not like the 3WA
sticking their noses in matters that would best pass by their notice. They
need to be eliminated."
"I've got the situation under control." And he did. The cute little
troubleshooters didn't know anything Killgore didn't want them to. Of
course, what his employers didn't want them to know might not be the same
thing, but Killgore found he could live with that. He was more concerned
about Iria than either of the Dirty Pair. She was the loose canon in that
mix. A pity he couldn't assuage her anger in some way, but she had made her
hatred for him clear. It was rare any of his former lovers could stay mad at
him for so long. But then, he had never married any of them, and Iria was
one of a kind in everything she did. It was the reason he had married her,
and only her, in his lifetime.
Springer's voice reverted to its previous coldness. "The target already has
a head start. You'd better move fast in order to catch up. Out."
The signal was terminated at the other end and the image of the attractive
woman winked out. Once it was gone, Killgore made an obscene gesture at the
blank screen. Ultimately pointless, but personally satisfying. He considered
the new information. More teams meant more problems. He'd have to inform the
girls to haul their collectively cute asses and follow his lead to the next
destination. This time he wanted to nail Zeiram before the destruction
began.
Xxxxxxxxxxxx
The spaceport on Terrakon 6 was crowded with close to thirty thousand
people, due to it being the major space hub in the closest ten systems, as
well as it being tourist season. Despite the high number of people crammed
into such a small space, the quartet of individuals that had recently
disembarked from Interstellar Flight 398 had managed the impossible feat of
moving about easily. That was due to the unwillingness of anyone in the
crowds of people to draw near them. The sea of humanity parted as they moved
forward, and it stared at them as they walked past.
The figure in the lead appeared the most normal. He was a male in his early
thirties with swarthy skin, a mechanical eye, and a perpetual smile. He was
tall at six feet four inches, and in obvious superior physical shape despite
wearing a loose overcoat. The only noticeable characteristic about him was
the carrying case at his right arm. It was attached to his wrist, not by a
chain or some other connecting device, but rather directly at the wrist,
taking the place of his hand.
The second and third men stood side-by-side, walking in perfect tandem with
one another. While they wore the same outfits, similar to the leader's in
that it showed off their healthy forms, they sharply contrasted with one
another as the one on the right was a pale albino while his companion's skin
was as dark as a coal mine. The albino stood out in even more bizarre
fashion. The top of his head was totally flat, as though the first three
inches had been taken off and leveled so that tiny planes could use it as a
landing strip. Compounding things was a nose akin to a proboscis which
pointed far and outward.
The darker of the pair was outwardly normal, like the man in the lead.
However he drew attention from the pair of twin sledgehammers, that were
nearly as tall as he was, slung across his back.
The strangest of all was the individual bringing up the rear. Shrouded in an
oversized trenchcoat with the collar turned up and a wide brimmed hat hung
low, every inch of the nine foot tall, five foot wide, frame was concealed
from sight. Even the gender of the figure could not be determined through
the bulky coat and hat.
The group's passage came to an abrupt halt as an obstruction appeared in the
course the quartet were taking. A single person refused to move out of their
way.
"Howdy, Springer," the man in the lead said in amused tones.
The woman turned her cold gaze upon the quartet. "It's nice to see you know
how to keep from drawing attention to yourselves."
"Some of us know how to avoid being seen," a soft feminine voice whispered
in Springer's ear.
Springer didn't react to the arrival of the assassin known as Whisper, who
had moved more quietly than her namesake. She turned to see the taller,
non-descrept woman standing plain as day next to her, as though she had
always been there. The assassin wore trousers and a blouse in a man's style.
Besides that, she was unremarkable in any way and could have blended in
effortlessly with any crowd on a thousand worlds and no one would remember
her once she was out of eyesight. It was the perfect camouflage for one of
her skills.
Springer returned her attention to the four people before her. 'Big Shot'
Dane, was the leader, even now beaming at her with his eternal smile. The
Winston twins, Harrison 'The Hammer' and his brother, Artus 'The Anvil' came
next in the procession. Both were quiet yet intimidating. As their names
suggested, getting between them was the same was being caught between their
monikers, and no one had yet to withstand the sort of punishment they could
deliver. Bringing up the rear was the giant, Stegrax. With Whisper's
arrival, Dane's team was all present and accounted for.
Peering down at the case connected to the leader's arm, Springer asked, "How
did you get that through customs?"
Dane pulled out his passport with the appendage that still had fingers. He
opened it up, allowing her to see what was written inside. "Diplomatic
Immunity. After we did a little job for the government on Gaaraa, they let
us join their diplomatic corps. Wasn't that sweet of them?" Dane's bemused
grin became even wider.
It was at that moment that a child, not paying attention to where she was
going as she stared out a window that showed a spaceship taking off, bumped
into the back of Stegrax. She looked up at the hulking mass and said,
"Sorry, Mister."
The giant turned. As it did so, metal triangular shaped plates sprang out,
ripping through the back of the trenchcoat and shredding it. It turned, the
coat opening just enough to show gleaming silver underneath. Bending low, a
robotic face with a pointed snout in the shape of a lizard unleashed a low
snarl at the child.
She wet herself on the spot.
"No, you can't eat her," Dane said in an authoritative tone.
The animal face turned to the speaker. Red-faceted eyes, that bore more
emotion than Springer's natural ones, captured the image of Dane in its many
edges. Stegrax snarled an inhuman response to the leader of his team.
The case fell away from Dane's hand, revealing the gun-like projection of a
weapon's pod fused to the flesh. There was a click as one of the various
barrels moved into firing position. He walked over and pointed his muzzle at
Stegrax's, nudging it slightly.
"I know you're cranky after a long flight, but you have to behave yourself.
Don't make me splatter that brain of yours all over the place. Remember,
you're a cyborg, not a robot. You need the gray matter to get by."
For a moment, the cyborg seemed to consider lunging at the man. Then the
artificial crimson fire in the eyes dulled, and Stegrax backed off.
Satisfied the situation was under control for the moment, and unwilling to
risk it deteriorating further, Dane removed his weapon from Stegrax's face.
As though the exchange had never happened, Springer said, "We will head
toward the Holcomb Building which is Scorphius' target. Since you are here
first, the security forces will be placed in your charge."
"First?" Dane asked.
"Killgore and his contingent have also been assigned to the task. Assuming
he gets here before the target, you will split the reward two ways, as well
as the bonus fee for successful completion of the mission. This is not
negotiable or optional."
"No problem, no problem," Dane said casually. "I'm a professional. I'll do
what it takes to get the job done, and you guys are paying top dollar for
the best there is." He primped himself up with the declaration.
Springer began to turn away and head for the nearest exit, then stopped
halfway. "However, there are a pair of 3WA troubleshooters with him.
Silencing them is an integral part of the mission. It doesn't matter how you
do it, so long as it I done."
The order made Dane scratch his chin, where just a hint of stubble showed.
"Killing 3WA agents can be a bit dicey. They don't take kindly to that. I
might need a little extra cash for the hassle." There was an attempt at
sincerity in his voice, but the look in his eyes was all greed.
Springer completed her turn and began walking to the exit. "You killed a 3WA
agent on Rodial Prime. You will not be in any worse trouble for eliminating
these two."
"Uh, right." Dane found himself talking to her back as she continued walking
away. He looked at his companions, shrugged, and followed her.
They had caught up to Springer as she made it to the air curtain separating
the inside of the terminal from the outside. The wind blew past their faces
as she led them into the sweltering heat of Terrakon 6's summer. "A truck
will arrive in a moment. It has the gear you requested. You can outfit
yourselves as you travel to the site of the operation. The security chief,
Milon Sancrest, will meet you there. He has already been instructed to obey
you."
Instructions given, Springer continued her relentless gait and headed toward
the curb. As she did so sleek hoverlimosine appeared, as if by magic. It
arrived at the same instant she did, its rear passenger door opening
automatically, allowing her to enter without slowing down in her walk.
Before the door swung closed, Dane called out, "How about a date after this
is all done?"
Her eyes locked on him for a second. "We will not be meeting again." The
door finished closing, leaving Dane to stare at his reflection in the
mirrored surface of windows that could withstand anything short of a missile
hitting them.
"You were shot down, Boss," the albino, Artus, informed him.
"Girl's a 'bot underneath all that make up, I'm sure of it," Harrison said,
his voice eerily sounding the same as his brother's.
"Nah, she's human. Just a hard one to figure out. But those are the best
ones to fool around with. Just like our dear Whisper." He moved his hand out
to fondle the assassin's bottom, but discovered she was no longer there.
"I'm more concerned about the rivals that will be cutting into out cash
flow," Whisper said from behind Dane. Her tone was casual, as though she had
been there since they had emerged outside.
Dane reacted as though the assassin's movement were commonplace. "Ah yes,
our dear Mr. Killgore. He's taken a lot of prime deals in our lifetime,
hasn't he, gang?"
"Too many," Harrison agreed, his hand moving up to unconsciously stroke the
head of one of his sledgehammers.
Dane's turned his eternal smile on his companions. "Well, you know how
things in this business can go. People get killed in crossfires all the
time, and with us gunning for Scorphius Zeiram, and a couple of pesky
troubleshooters, why, Killgore might end up accidentally having a wad of
plasma take his head off." Dane fondled his weapon pod affectionately.
"Such a shame," Artus agreed.
"I've always wanted to tangle with a Samisdat," Whisper said, the only sign
of her intense excitement a slight narrowing of her eyes.
"Here comes the truck," Harrison informed the others.
"Then let's get this show on the road," Dane said.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
[End noted]
Yeah! More SOABF done. In know this was a set up chapter, but hey, you got
to have them sometimes. Honestly, this story is more than halfway done. I'm
pretty sure. Well, we'll find out one way or the other. ^_^
DB Sommer
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Chapter 9
Any and all C+C is appreciated. You can contact me at
sommer@3rdm.net
All of my fics are stored at the following:
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Or R+C books at:
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http://go.to/AngCobra
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
"I can't believe you slept with my son!"
"I can't believe you didn't tell me he was your son!"
Accusations echoed within the confined space of the Creeper V, fueling the
already high level of agitation both Kei and Iria suffered from. Had there
been others around, perhaps they would have defused the situation, but only
the streaks of stars passing through hyperspace accompanied the two women
after their hasty departure from Myce.
Their privacy might have been for the best, since neither woman wanted any
other participants involved in their conversation. They had a situation to
discuss, a very unexpected one, and resolving it would require no
interruptions. That was the main reason Iria had escorted Kei off planet
immediately instead of waiting for Mikael to turn the information over to
her. Ostensibly she told him it was because she needed Kei on hand if Zeiram
should appear again. She suspected her son knew the real reason behind their
hurried exit, but luckily he was sensible enough to accept the explanation
without protest.
The drive to the spaceport and takeoff that followed had passed in silence.
It wasn't until after clearing orbit and a successful transition into
hyperspace that the conversation, which was more an exchange of accusations,
began.
Iria frowned at Kei. "I didn't say anything because I wanted the two of you
to meet without any silly preconceived notions about one another and act
awkwardly or something. I thought it would be easier for you to get to know
one another solely on the basis of who you are instead of your relationships
to me." Iria became somewhat less angry, as though she conceded Kei her
point.
"We got to know one another, all right," Kei shot back, her anger not
mollified.
There was a pause in the conversation, then Iria said, "I mean, even in my
wildest dreams, I didn't think something like this would happen. I figured
you'd talk a bit, maybe eventually learn who you were, and then we'd have a
good laugh about it later."
"Ha, ha, ha. I am so amused, I'm practically in tears," Kei said dryly.
Iria ignored the sarcasm, locked in on her own thoughts. "Okay, maybe if he
was a bit older I could see it happening. Maybe. But I think his age should
have slowed things down a bit. He is only eighteen."
You wouldn't know it by how skilled he is in bed, Kei made certain not to
say out loud. Iria was taking things well -relatively- but there was no way
Kei could mention that little detail and not have her head bitten off. After
meeting Mikael, she couldn't believe that was his actual age. Physically he
appeared to be at least in his early twenties, and judging by the women's
reaction at the bordello, he had been a regular there in more than a casual
way for some time. His stamina was that of a horny teenager, though. It was
a not altogether unsatisfactory compromise between his apparent and actual
age.
Iria's tone became accusatory again. "But it was only three days, Kei.
That's awfully fast for two people that just met to hop into bed together. I
mean, that's barely enough time to exchange names."
"We knew each other's names," Kei said defensively. Not last names,
obviously, but she knew lots of people only by their first name. Of course
she didn't sleep with any of them, so it wasn't exactly the same thing.
Iria continued as though Kei had said nothing. "And then he was supposed to
slice the information, which would have taken up a lot of time as well. How
much did he get done, by the way?"
Kei twitched, as though she the screwdriver she was jamming in the a light
socket suddenly hit paydirt. Reluctantly she said, "He didn't get a chance
to start."
"It took you that long to find him? I thought you said you met him your
first day there."
"Yeah, I did" Kei said evasively. Dodging the Mustang had been easier than
dodging these questions.
"Then why didn't he get more..." Iria trailed off as her mind began putting
Kei's reaction together with what was being said. "Kei, how long was it
after you met him that the two of you hopped into bed together?"
"It was after I had been caught in three death defying situations. Four if
you count the cab ride though Myce," Kei said defensively.
"How long is that in days?"
Kei remained silent.
"How long?"
"A couple of hours," Kei mumbled.
"You guys were sleeping together just two hours after you met?!"
"It might have been closer to three. I wasn't keeping track of the time with
everyone shooting at me," Kei said hopefully.
"You barely came into sight of one another before you were doing it?!"
"What can I say? We clicked as soon as we met."
Iria stared out the viewport, stunned into silence. Kei had never seen her
mentor quite like that. Of course, Kei had never slept with any of Iria's
children either. It was new ground for both of them.
Not that any of it was Kei's fault, the troubleshooter assured herself. A
responsible person would have mentioned at some point in their numerous
conversations that the slicer Kei was supposed to rendezvous with happened
to be Iria's son. Had she gone in knowing that, she wouldn't have viewed him
as a suave, self-confident, handsome guy who it turned was not only skilled
and well-endowed, but had great endurance as well. He even wanted to talk
and cuddle once things cooled off instead of congratulating himself on his
prowess and falling asleep, like most men. Now Kei found him so deeply
etched into her mind as someone to keep around for relationship purposes
that it was difficult thinking of him in terms of being related to Iria and
theoretically off-limits. Very difficult. His tongue was borderline
prehensile!
Kei shifted in her seat in discomfort, and not solely at Iria's own
tongue-lashing She really needed to stop thinking of Mikael in that way.
Iria came out of her stupor and moaned, "I should have seen this coming.
It's so typical."
"Excuse me! I do not usually jump in the sack that quick with most guys!"
Probably no more than once or twice at the most. It wasn't like she kept
track of the number of her lovers anymore than she did her bodycounts.
"I meant from Mikael, though I did expect better from you," Iria clarified.
"He's always been this way. I never should have let that idiot, Fujikuro,
watch him when I went offworld on hunts!"
"That was pretty stupid." Growing up, Kei had been left in Fujikuro's care
several times when Iria had to leave the planet on business and couldn't
take Kei along. He was far from an ideal man to help raise one's children.
His opinion of girls was that they should not drive fast, shoot guns, bring
in criminals, or any other fun stuff, and he had no reservations about
lecturing a young Kei concerning his opinion. Of course, given Kei's
personality, the bounty hunter's attempts to dissuade her from learning all
of those things made her want them even more. The only good thing to come
from spending time with Fujikuro was that every now and then he would break
down (usually under heavy assault of flattery) and teach her a thing or two
about explosives or firearms. It was nowhere near as thorough as Iria's
training, but he passed on a bit of his own knowledge to her. But overall,
the experiences of being under his tutelage had not been very enjoyable.
Kei's reminisces were cut short as Iria continued on with her own.
"I just thought a male figure in his life would be good for him, even
someone as stupid as Fujikuro." Iria explained. "At first, I had no idea
that idiot was meeting that madame of his every now and then when I left
Mikael with him. And when he was off... doing it, he let all of the girls
there watch Mikael. Not that Mikael wasn't being taken care of. He was only
about seven or so when Fujikuro first began taking him there, and they all
thought he was cute and doted him all the time. Honestly, they spoiled him
rotten. I think it's because almost none of them have kids. But that wasn't
important. Anyone with an ounce of sense would never think of taking a child
to a bordello. Do you know what that bastard Fujikuro said the first time I
caught him taking Mikael there?"
"No."
"'Most guys would love being raised in a whorehouse'. I punched his lights
out for that one, let me tell you." She sighed. "I knew I shouldn't have let
Mikael go back, but he loved it there, and they did take good care of him.
He kept begging and pleading for me to let him stay when I was offworld, and
I broke down and let him. I mean, it was okay in the beginning, until he hit
fifteen or so. Then the girls starting taking a different sort of interest
in him, and him in them. He's always looked older than he actually was, so
that didn't help things. And he just has to look like that piece of shit
father of his."
"Killgore's his father?" Things had been so hectic Kei hadn't considered the
matter of paternity. Once she did, she realized Killgore and Mikael did look
a bit like one another. Mostly in the eyes and definitely with the smile.
"Yes, but don't let him know," Iria said, an edge of panic in her voice. "I
told Mikael his father was dead. Even Lance doesn't know. He left before I
knew I was pregnant, and I have no intention of letting him ever going near
my son. If that bastard tries it, I'll shove the explosives up his ass
myself!"
Kei shuddered at the tone Iria was using. She had no doubt the woman
probably would at least shoot at him, if such happened. She seemed to become
a bit irrational in matters concerning her ex-husband. It would definitely
be best to put the whole Killgore-Mikael connection out of her mind.
The rage left Iria's voice as she returned to the matter of her son.
"Anyway, growing up in the bordello gave Mikael a certain... way, with
girls. He doesn't use them and discard them or anything like that. It's just
that he finds it easy to be charming, and he's like that all the time when
he's with any girl he finds attractive. It's like a reflex, the same thing
as you or me blinking our eyes. I don't think he even knows how not to be
charming."
"You got that right," Kei said with a smile, which disappeared when Iria
glared at her.
"His charm, combined with his looks, has ended up... well, let's say he has
a lot of eager female admirers drop by. It drives me insane having to fend
off so many cheap little floozies from trying to hit on him, not that he
shows much in the way of standard and tries to resist their advances. I
think he's slept with half the eligible girls in Myce. I'm probably lucky
I'm not a grandmother a dozen times over," Iria lamented. "He gets it from
his father. That bastard couldn't keep away from women either. At least I
hammered into Mikael's head that he's to treat women with respect."
"He does," Kei said quickly, then shut up again as she decided this was not
territory she wanted to venture into with Iria.
"I just want him to settle down with a good girl," Iria complained. "He's
never had a steady girlfriend. I want him to be normal. Is that too much to
ask?"
Sensing her mentor needed consoling, Kei put an arm affectionately around
her. "Don't worry. I'm sure he will. After all, you helped raise me, and I
turned out normal."
Iria gave her a half-lidded stare. "Kei, I said I was proud of you. I didn't
say you were normal."
"But I am normal." Mostly. Okay, not many people had destroyed entire
planets. But besides her destructive tendencies she was overall normal.
And Kei was surprised to discover she agreed with Iria, in a way. For some
odd reason, she didn't approve of Mikael sleeping around either. Those girls
at the bordello were way too possessive of him being their personal boytoy
when business was slow. He probably ought to look into getting a nice,
stable relationship with someone who was mature and available, and who could
keep up with him sexually, since he was quite the energetic stud. It would
definitely have to be someone older, since a woman's sex drive increased as
she got more mature. He should be looking for someone like that
"Kei, is something wrong? You look a little flushed."
That snapped Kei out of the fantasy that had built up around who the ideal
woman for Mikael was. "Ah, nothing. I was just thinking about Zeiram. Tell
me what happened while I was gone," Kei said, eager to change the subject.
Iria nodded, seemingly just as eager. "Well, we went to this space station,
that's no longer there by the way, when-"
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Kei tensed slightly, as she always did, when walking through the umbilical
that connected the Creeper V to the Lovely Angel. The journey from Myce had
taken an hour, which had been more than enough time for Iria to inform her
of what had happened during Kei's absence. Already her mind was pondering
what Zeiram, and his handler's, latest actions meant. Unfortunately, like
Iria, she still hadn't come up with any answers.
Now that Kei was finally returning to the shot up remains of her own ship,
she considered a more urgent matter: what to say to Yuri about the trip.
Back on Myce, the original plan had been for Kei to brag about how she had
landed herself a young stud while Yuri had been left as lonely and
frustrated as ever. That plan had gone out the airlock. Since Yuri was bound
to find out Mikael was Iria's son, that meant not breathing a word of their
illicit affair, which had been really fun and the perfect salve for the
wounds her recent birthday had inflicted upon her. It almost hurt, not being
able to brag about it to Yuri. But it had to be that way. Kei would claim
everything went as planned. She met the guy, dropped off the chip, and got
drunk. And she'd be sure to tell Yuri Mikael was gay, since there was no way
in Hell Kei would let Yuri even think of having him for herself. It was a
secret Kei would be taking to her grave.
The airlock to the Lovely Angel irised open, revealing a waiting Yuri next
to the door.
Yuri stopped leaning casually against the wall, uncrossed her arms, and
said, "Shame on you, Kei, sleeping with Iria's son. That's almost the same
thing as incest. And he's so young, it's practically pedophilia as well."
Kei recoiled in horror. "How-" she gulped out.
Yuri could barely reign in the laughter at seeing her partner in such a
flustered state. "Bob told me."
Kei snarled. Bob must have been listening in on their conversation on the
way back and let his loose synthesizer spout every deep lurid detail to
Yuri. Kei was going to find a few dozen viruses to insert into his system to
show what she thought of computer intelligences who couldn't keep their
noses out of matters that didn't concern them and felt the need to spew
their gossip to the last person in the world who needed to hear it.
Yuri tried to be serious, but her mirth broke through the illusion of
disapproval she was trying to project. "Really, Kei, you let your animal
impulses get you into so much trouble. You wouldn't see me throwing myself
on my back and spreading my legs for some guy I just met."
Kei removed a small holographic projector, one she had purchased during a
slow part of her second day on Myce, and held it in the open palm of her
hand. She thrust it in Yuri's direction so she could see it clearly. Her
finger clicked the side and activated the hologram, letting it show off a
picture of Mikael. He standing alone, posing by leaning against a wall and
unleashing that smile that Kei had found so intriguing. She had originally
taken the picture when she had intended to tell Yuri everything.
"Wow, he's cute!" Yuri whistled appreciatively.
Point proven, Kei shut down the device and returned it to her pocket. There
were some other, more risqué pictures in there she had no intention of
sharing with Yuri. "And it is not incestuous, I'll have you know. I'm not
related to him anymore than I am to you."
"But Iria's like a mother to you," Yuri taunted.
It was Kei's turn to shift uncomfortably at Yuri's point, which was true,
unfortunately. "Well, yeah, but he wasn't like a brother to me since I never
met him until three days ago," Kei said, trying to retake the initiative.
"And he's what, fifteen?"
"Eighteen and you just whistled at his picture, my fellow 'pedophile'," Kei
pointed out. "And he looks older than that. At least early twenties. And you
know as well as I do that when it comes to guys 'eighteen' is just another
word for 'stamina'."
"And 'inexperience'." Yuri remembered well her encounters with eighteen year
olds, back when she was eighteen herself, of course. Unlike Kei she was no
pedophile trying to take advantage of poor naive teenagers.
"Actually he was raised in a bordello, and learned lots of neat and
interesting things from the professionals there. I learned a new trick or
two as well," Kei boasted.
Yuri considered that. "He roll over and play dead afterwards?"
"Cuddled and talked."
Yuri slapped a hand affectionately on Kei's back. "Sounds like he'd be a
keeper... if he wasn't your brother."
"He is not my brother!" Kei insisted.
"And to think, if you were to marry him and have kids, he'd have more in
common with them than you since he'd be so much closer in age to them."
"He is not that young!" Kei looked angry enough to go for the sidearm Iria
had given her to replace the one that had been destroyed in the bar.
"Oh, relax. Let's just forget this whole thing and never bring it up again."
While Yuri's mouth said one thing, the twinkle in her eyes informed Kei that
this would never be forgotten, and would actually be brought up repeatedly
for a very long time to come, just like every other bad thing Kei had ever
done that Yuri had found out about. It was times like these that Kei
understood the 3WA's age old axiom about treating one's partner with respect
since 'they know where all the corpses are buried'.
The two began to make their way to the bridge. As they walked, Yuri's
demeanor became more serious. "I'm worried about that attack on you by the
Mustang. That thing with that Ballless guy was probably coincidence, but I
don't think the fighter attack was."
"Two coincidences is one too many," Kei agreed. "The question is who sent it
out and how did they know where I was."
"Only a few people knew you'd be out there at that time." Yuri watched Kei
closely to gauge her response.
"Which means either a leak on Killgore's side or they tracked me by some
sort of unknown means," Kei supplied in answer. "Tormand is a big
corporation. They might be able to track us somehow with some weird new
device."
"Maybe, but there's something else you should know that complicates things."
"Oh?" Kei came to a stop and arched her eyebrow in curiosity.
"I sent a report to headquarters on the situation and requested backup."
Kei went from curious to angry in the blink of an eye. "I told you we can
handle things!"
"Like we have so far?" Yuri retorted. "We've been running after Zeiram for
way too long, and end up only picking up after him, when he isn't nearly
killing us. He's blazing a trial of destruction of the kind the press
usually blames us for, and we aren't any closer to stopping him. Also there
seems to be some other player in the game and we don't know who, which
really bothers me. As much as I want to trust Killgore and company, I can't,
especially after you were nearly killed just after you left here."
Kei wanted to disagree with her, but it was futile. The damage was done, and
Yuri's points were valid, even if Kei hated the fact more than anything. "So
what did headquarters have to say?"
"Nothing, and they've had plenty of time to respond," Yuri intoned
ominously. "I sent the message three times. Even with the distances
involved, communications satellites should have relayed the message a dozen
times over by now."
"Did you check our communications array? It did take a nasty beating when we
went head to head with that battleship."
Yuri nodded. "Everything checked out. I ran diagnostics three times. On the
offhand chance the diagnostics is also bad, I had Bob send the message, too.
He didn't get a response either. He can't figure anything wrong at our end.
It seems like the message is being sent out with no problems."
Kei felt a creeping tension seep into her stomach. While she didn't want
headquarters involved at the moment, she did want the option of calling in
reinforcements should the situation take a turn for the worse. Or more
worse, to be accurate. "So either headquarters can't answer, won't answer,
or our communication isn't getting through."
"Bad news, no matter the situation. I kind of doubt it's the first, though.
If anything really bad happened at HQ, they would have said something on the
news. That's not the sort of publicity that can be locked down"
"Where's the nearest divisional office out here?" Kei asked.
"Fifteen star systems away." The 3WA's main tools were field agents sent out
to trouble spots, not setting up expensive, permanent ground facilities on
thousands of planets on the offhand chance they'd be needed there someday.
With the 3WA's charter, their agents were allowed to go just about
everywhere and do nearly everything. Agents could usually requisition
whatever specific items they needed for the field from most local planetary
governments if it came to that.
"We could try sending out the request using someone else's deep space
transceivers," Kei suggested.
Yuri shook her head this time. "There's no guarantee we'd be able to receive
a response at our ship since we aren't getting anything from HQ now, and
staying in one spot long enough to wait for a response, if there is one,
isn't likely due to how fast we've been on the move. Even now Killgore's
trying to figure out where Mushroom Head might be heading next."
"Did they figure out what he wanted on the station?"
"From the looks of things, he just trashed another YSC facility, though I
think there was something else involved too. Zeiram didn't stick around to
kill enough people."
"I thought the space station was destroyed."
"It was, but it was by coincidence, not design. I can't help but feel there
was something other than destroying another YSC facility behind this."
"You think Killgore's holding out on us?"
"Or his employers are," Yuri said. "He is just like us, a field agent. You
know how our HQ likes giving things out on a need to know basis. I doubt if
working for a corporation the size of YSC is any better."
"I bet the pay's better," Kei grumbled.
"Looks like you're going to get your wish about going this alone."
"Only now I'm beginning to think you're right about needing help," Kei
lamented, about both possibly wanting help and admitting Yuri had been
right. "Maybe Mikael will be able to get us the information we want. He
seemed like he knew his stuff."
Yuri became playful. "Yes, tell me all about him. Is it true what they say
about incest being the best?"
"Would you knock it off?!" Kei raged.
Yuri turned at an intersection and ran down one of the longer corridors
running the length of the ship, shouting over her shoulder. "Wait until I
tell everyone back at HQ about this!"
"Don't you dare breathe a word of this to anyone, or by the time I'm done
with you, you'll wish Zeiram had chewed you up and used your DNA to crap out
Zeiramnoids," Kei promised as she raced after her partner.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Iria finished disconnecting the umbilical linking the two ships and pulled
away from the Lovely Angel. She watched the instrument panel carefully until
the connector had been retracted and safely stored in its proper place.
Bob's voice suddenly filled the ship. "' I didn't say anything because I
wanted the two of you to meet without any silly preconceived notions about
one another and act awkwardly or something.' Oh please."
Iria glared at the portable computer on her wrist. "What's that supposed to
mean? And what did I tell you about eavesdropping on private conversations?"
"That I should listen to everything, while pretending I'm not, and only
interject myself when I feel it's warranted."
"I never said that!"
"I did, and since this is a partnership of two, I do it half the time. And
quit trying to change the subject."
Iria's eyes darted around the confines of the ship. "I have no idea what you
mean. And I need to clean up around here. It's a mess." Iria began to throw
away the assortment of open food containers that Kei had discarded on the
floor during their return trip.
"You can't fool me," Bob's voice warned. "You were trying to match them up,
weren't you? Only things progressed a lot faster than you wanted."
Iria stopped what she was doing and looked guiltily at her wrist computer.
"I just want Mikael to settle down a little. He's more promiscuous than a
football team with unlimited access to cheerleaders and booze. And Kei needs
to settle down, too. She takes way too many risks and is lucky to still be
alive. And it's not like she's getting any younger, and I know for a fact
she doesn't have any romantic prospects right now. I just think if the two
of them were to become an item one thing might lead to another and everyone
would be happier for it." She smiled hopefully at the terminal.
Bob's voice remained disapproving, but with some of the edge lost to it.
"But Mikael is your son and Kei was sort of like your daughter. It does
sound kind of bad, the idea of you matching them up."
"But she's not my daughter, and I never really though of her in those sorts
of terms. I was only eighteen when I picked her up, and she was six. She was
more like a little sister than anything, and even then it wasn't exactly
like that," Iria pointed out.
"You were certainly a mother figure to her."
Iria chewed her lip. "Just because I didn't view her as a daughter doesn't
mean I didn't love her just as much," she said defensively. "In any case,
I'm doing what any proper guardian and mother would do in looking out for
their collective welfare."
"I guess so," Bob said reluctantly. Despite being electronic, the tone all
but said that while he didn't approve of what was happening, he was resigned
to letting it happen without further protest.
"And it's not like I'm trying to push them together or anything," Iria said
with a touch of pride at being able to beat Bob in an argument. It didn't
happen often. He was the more level-headed of the two, and even at her
worst, Iria never believed otherwise. "I just let them meet under neutral
circumstances. They're doing everything themselves. I'd prefer they take
things slower is all. I mean, they should have dated for a while before
going that far," Iria grumbled as she remembered the first moment she
spotted the pair together in their room at the bordello. Ideally, she wanted
them to have a long lasting and permanent relationship, not a quick roll in
the hay followed by a shallow, torrid fling. That was the main reason she
had warned Kei after catching the two of them in the act (almost). Hopefully
her former ward would take the advice to heart. Only time would tell how the
two would react the next time they met each other. She hoped it wouldn't be
too awkward.
Iria noted Bob had been silent for a while. "You won't tell them my ulterior
motives?"
"The damage is already done. Besides, it does make things interesting around
here." Bob laughed in amusement.
"Interesting things are not something my life lacks," Iria said dryly.
Bounty hunting made for a very interesting life. While there were plenty of
dry, dull cases, with bail jumpers, computer hackers, or kids making off
with stolen property, Iria's efficiency and reputation meant she had plenty
of other, more risky assignments offered to her. Serial killers, mass
murders, and gangs of thieves and thugs that would slit a person's throat as
often as they had to relieve themselves had all been brought in by her.
Interesting things indeed.
Iria wondered if it was time when she should make them less so. She had
built up a good bit of money over the years for taking on the most dangerous
of cases. Only travel fees, ammo and weapons costs, some medical bills, and
replacing destroyed spaceships were her only real expenses. Mikael was
already making enough money doing computer work to support himself and his
own apartment, and he took pride in that fact. He lived on his own, buying
whatever he needed without asking for a credit from his mother. He had even
offered to loan her money if she needed it, not that she did. His
intelligence and independence was something that filled Iria with motherly
pride, even if she felt a touch sad that her son had grown up to the point
that he no longer needed her for such things.
By now Iria had a sizable nest egg, one that would allow her an early
retirement, or at least to cut back on the number of jobs she had to take.
Finances weren't a problem. There was also her health to consider. Her body
wasn't what it used to be, and the aches and pains from taking down a
difficult bountyhead didn't disappear like they used to. She still had a
lingering stiffness in her elbow from taking a bullet several missions ago,
and her back grumbled at her when she slept wrong. It reminded her of her
own mortality, though she still felt ten years younger than her actual age.
But sooner or later time would catch up to her and dull her reflexes. That
could mean the difference between life and death, or at least life and a
nasty maiming. She still had all of her original body parts, and intended to
keep it that way.
With all the elements of the past coming together this way: Kei, Killgore,
and Zeiram, Iria could not help looking back and reassessing what her life
was actually like. It left her wondering if maybe she should stop merely
pondering retirement and take the actual step toward it. The more she
thought about it, the more she liked the idea. The timing was too perfect.
It would be nice to stop and enjoy life for a change, especially if Mikael
and Kei calmed down a bit and she could stop worrying about them as well.
It was something to seriously consider. She'd have to think about it after
she put Zeiram down for good. So long as he existed, she could never
consider retirement, never consider rest, not even for a second. The
abomination had taken her beloved big brother, Gren, from her, made her
destroy what remained of him when that monster merged with his body. Gren's
face bubbling out from Zeiram's body still haunted her dreams every now and
then, and she would wake up bathed in sweat and eyes tearing as she
remembered her greatest failure. Her hatred for the inhuman monster was
all-consuming, and she would track him to the ends of the universe until she
was a hundred if that was what it took to eradicate his vile form for
eternity. Twenty-seven years ago she had thought she was successful; this
time there would be no chance of a slip up, no matter who she had to kill.
This was the last time the name 'Zeiram' would ever pass through anyone's
lips.
"Just wait, you bastard. I'm coming," she whispered under her breath.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Lance Eugene Killgore head was tilted upward as he stared in consternation
at the communication screen that took up the majority of the wall in front
of him. The purloined ship from Farscots had also been designed by them.
Their culture seemed to have a fixation on excessively large screens that
tilted upward so one had to angle their heads to look at them. It was odd,
and hard on the neck when one had to communicate over a long period of time
with someone.
Currently the screen depicted the image of a slender woman that appeared to
be in her early twenties. She had wavy chestnut-colored hair that stopped in
the middle of her shoulderblades and a beauty that would have made men stop
in their tracks if it wasn't for the ice that was ever present in her blue
eyes. They were as cold as a robot's, and Killgore had a feeling that making
love to her would have had all the passion of such. No, it would have been
worse, since fooling around with machines was supposed to lack emotion, and
to have a person respond similarly would have been wrong on some instinctive
level.
The woman known to Killgore only as Springer was his contact with
Yurenex-Solivar Corporation. The tight fitting business suit she wore cost
more than what 99% of the employees of her company made in a year, though
he'd wager she didn't exist anywhere on their payroll. YSC was like anyone
in a position of power that liked doing things under the table, and made
culpable deniability an art form.
From the information Killgore had gathered, Springer was the company's go-to
person for physical solutions to problems that required ignoring legal
boundaries, and she had sufficient connections to access many forms of
physical solutions. That was about all he had learned of her, despite his
extensive check into her background. The woman was as mysterious as she was
inhuman. Killgore didn't like not knowing what the people he dealt with were
like or what was at stake when was hired to do a job. Many of those seeking
out his services were already backstabbers to begin with, and few of them
had any compunctions about doing the same to him in the name of expediency.
YSC was better about it than most, having paid him well and dealt with him
honestly before. They seemed pragmatic about the need to keep Killgore
informed on what he needed to know to complete the tasks they assigned him.
Until now.
Zeiram's path (which was actually Anton Scorphius' path) had been
straightforward at first, knocking out every YSC holding, legal or
otherwise, that stood in his path. Since the destruction of the YSC liner,
it had become erratic and unreadable, at least to Killgore's perspective.
YSC had been certain the next target would be Station Zionacht and they had
been correct, though they hadn't informed Killgore of why that was. When he
sent them the information on what had transpired at the station, they had
again gone silent until this most recent communiqué.
"I really don't like being kept in the dark about things like this,"
Killgore growled, letting his displeasure be known. It wouldn't intimidate
or scare Springer, he wasn't sure anything did, but she would inform her
superiors that their number one mercenary field team was displeased.
Killgore was on retainer, not an employee. Beholden to them he was not, and
he could pull out on them at any time for only the cost of his retainer. It
was in situations like this he was sorely tempted to do just that.
Springer's voice was cool professionalism. While not exactly emotionless, it
was closer to analytical than robotic. "It was deemed you didn't need to
know, and you didn't. We pointed you in the right direction. You failed to
deliver the goods."
"It was hostile territory, and I had to ascertain the target's location if
you want me to do what you asked me to. I couldn't exactly just blow the
station apart."
"Yet that's what happened in the end,"
"Thanks to your boss's little brother screwing around and that defect in
your Bottweilers. Without them running interference, we'd have nailed big
mean and green." While that wasn't the unequivocal truth, neither could it
be refuted. It never hurt to emphasize how badly misinformation could
undercut the ability to achieve one's goals.
Springer displayed no reaction to Killgore's reprimand. "I'll download the
data to you. In the meantime, you now know exactly where Zeiram's next
target is: our facility on Terrakon 6. This is the only location with the
necessary elements to complete the compound. I should warn you, this is only
a facility on the planet. We do not control the city or the defense forces,
which are considerable. Do not come in with guns blazing. You will act in a
discreet manner. You will rendezvous at the location where you will work in
the operation with another team."
Another team. That didn't bode well. So far YSC had been content to allow
the teams on this hunt to operate independently, giving Killgore and his own
a wide berth. "I don't like other guys hanging around. It cramps my style."
"Then you should have acquired the target at its last location. It has been
judged you are in need of support."
"I've already got support."
"Yes, an outer rim bounty hunter and the Dirty Pair." Now there was a hint
of emotion in Springer's voice. Just the barest hint of anger. It surprised
him. He hadn't thought her capable of any emotion. "We do not like the 3WA
sticking their noses in matters that would best pass by their notice. They
need to be eliminated."
"I've got the situation under control." And he did. The cute little
troubleshooters didn't know anything Killgore didn't want them to. Of
course, what his employers didn't want them to know might not be the same
thing, but Killgore found he could live with that. He was more concerned
about Iria than either of the Dirty Pair. She was the loose canon in that
mix. A pity he couldn't assuage her anger in some way, but she had made her
hatred for him clear. It was rare any of his former lovers could stay mad at
him for so long. But then, he had never married any of them, and Iria was
one of a kind in everything she did. It was the reason he had married her,
and only her, in his lifetime.
Springer's voice reverted to its previous coldness. "The target already has
a head start. You'd better move fast in order to catch up. Out."
The signal was terminated at the other end and the image of the attractive
woman winked out. Once it was gone, Killgore made an obscene gesture at the
blank screen. Ultimately pointless, but personally satisfying. He considered
the new information. More teams meant more problems. He'd have to inform the
girls to haul their collectively cute asses and follow his lead to the next
destination. This time he wanted to nail Zeiram before the destruction
began.
Xxxxxxxxxxxx
The spaceport on Terrakon 6 was crowded with close to thirty thousand
people, due to it being the major space hub in the closest ten systems, as
well as it being tourist season. Despite the high number of people crammed
into such a small space, the quartet of individuals that had recently
disembarked from Interstellar Flight 398 had managed the impossible feat of
moving about easily. That was due to the unwillingness of anyone in the
crowds of people to draw near them. The sea of humanity parted as they moved
forward, and it stared at them as they walked past.
The figure in the lead appeared the most normal. He was a male in his early
thirties with swarthy skin, a mechanical eye, and a perpetual smile. He was
tall at six feet four inches, and in obvious superior physical shape despite
wearing a loose overcoat. The only noticeable characteristic about him was
the carrying case at his right arm. It was attached to his wrist, not by a
chain or some other connecting device, but rather directly at the wrist,
taking the place of his hand.
The second and third men stood side-by-side, walking in perfect tandem with
one another. While they wore the same outfits, similar to the leader's in
that it showed off their healthy forms, they sharply contrasted with one
another as the one on the right was a pale albino while his companion's skin
was as dark as a coal mine. The albino stood out in even more bizarre
fashion. The top of his head was totally flat, as though the first three
inches had been taken off and leveled so that tiny planes could use it as a
landing strip. Compounding things was a nose akin to a proboscis which
pointed far and outward.
The darker of the pair was outwardly normal, like the man in the lead.
However he drew attention from the pair of twin sledgehammers, that were
nearly as tall as he was, slung across his back.
The strangest of all was the individual bringing up the rear. Shrouded in an
oversized trenchcoat with the collar turned up and a wide brimmed hat hung
low, every inch of the nine foot tall, five foot wide, frame was concealed
from sight. Even the gender of the figure could not be determined through
the bulky coat and hat.
The group's passage came to an abrupt halt as an obstruction appeared in the
course the quartet were taking. A single person refused to move out of their
way.
"Howdy, Springer," the man in the lead said in amused tones.
The woman turned her cold gaze upon the quartet. "It's nice to see you know
how to keep from drawing attention to yourselves."
"Some of us know how to avoid being seen," a soft feminine voice whispered
in Springer's ear.
Springer didn't react to the arrival of the assassin known as Whisper, who
had moved more quietly than her namesake. She turned to see the taller,
non-descrept woman standing plain as day next to her, as though she had
always been there. The assassin wore trousers and a blouse in a man's style.
Besides that, she was unremarkable in any way and could have blended in
effortlessly with any crowd on a thousand worlds and no one would remember
her once she was out of eyesight. It was the perfect camouflage for one of
her skills.
Springer returned her attention to the four people before her. 'Big Shot'
Dane, was the leader, even now beaming at her with his eternal smile. The
Winston twins, Harrison 'The Hammer' and his brother, Artus 'The Anvil' came
next in the procession. Both were quiet yet intimidating. As their names
suggested, getting between them was the same was being caught between their
monikers, and no one had yet to withstand the sort of punishment they could
deliver. Bringing up the rear was the giant, Stegrax. With Whisper's
arrival, Dane's team was all present and accounted for.
Peering down at the case connected to the leader's arm, Springer asked, "How
did you get that through customs?"
Dane pulled out his passport with the appendage that still had fingers. He
opened it up, allowing her to see what was written inside. "Diplomatic
Immunity. After we did a little job for the government on Gaaraa, they let
us join their diplomatic corps. Wasn't that sweet of them?" Dane's bemused
grin became even wider.
It was at that moment that a child, not paying attention to where she was
going as she stared out a window that showed a spaceship taking off, bumped
into the back of Stegrax. She looked up at the hulking mass and said,
"Sorry, Mister."
The giant turned. As it did so, metal triangular shaped plates sprang out,
ripping through the back of the trenchcoat and shredding it. It turned, the
coat opening just enough to show gleaming silver underneath. Bending low, a
robotic face with a pointed snout in the shape of a lizard unleashed a low
snarl at the child.
She wet herself on the spot.
"No, you can't eat her," Dane said in an authoritative tone.
The animal face turned to the speaker. Red-faceted eyes, that bore more
emotion than Springer's natural ones, captured the image of Dane in its many
edges. Stegrax snarled an inhuman response to the leader of his team.
The case fell away from Dane's hand, revealing the gun-like projection of a
weapon's pod fused to the flesh. There was a click as one of the various
barrels moved into firing position. He walked over and pointed his muzzle at
Stegrax's, nudging it slightly.
"I know you're cranky after a long flight, but you have to behave yourself.
Don't make me splatter that brain of yours all over the place. Remember,
you're a cyborg, not a robot. You need the gray matter to get by."
For a moment, the cyborg seemed to consider lunging at the man. Then the
artificial crimson fire in the eyes dulled, and Stegrax backed off.
Satisfied the situation was under control for the moment, and unwilling to
risk it deteriorating further, Dane removed his weapon from Stegrax's face.
As though the exchange had never happened, Springer said, "We will head
toward the Holcomb Building which is Scorphius' target. Since you are here
first, the security forces will be placed in your charge."
"First?" Dane asked.
"Killgore and his contingent have also been assigned to the task. Assuming
he gets here before the target, you will split the reward two ways, as well
as the bonus fee for successful completion of the mission. This is not
negotiable or optional."
"No problem, no problem," Dane said casually. "I'm a professional. I'll do
what it takes to get the job done, and you guys are paying top dollar for
the best there is." He primped himself up with the declaration.
Springer began to turn away and head for the nearest exit, then stopped
halfway. "However, there are a pair of 3WA troubleshooters with him.
Silencing them is an integral part of the mission. It doesn't matter how you
do it, so long as it I done."
The order made Dane scratch his chin, where just a hint of stubble showed.
"Killing 3WA agents can be a bit dicey. They don't take kindly to that. I
might need a little extra cash for the hassle." There was an attempt at
sincerity in his voice, but the look in his eyes was all greed.
Springer completed her turn and began walking to the exit. "You killed a 3WA
agent on Rodial Prime. You will not be in any worse trouble for eliminating
these two."
"Uh, right." Dane found himself talking to her back as she continued walking
away. He looked at his companions, shrugged, and followed her.
They had caught up to Springer as she made it to the air curtain separating
the inside of the terminal from the outside. The wind blew past their faces
as she led them into the sweltering heat of Terrakon 6's summer. "A truck
will arrive in a moment. It has the gear you requested. You can outfit
yourselves as you travel to the site of the operation. The security chief,
Milon Sancrest, will meet you there. He has already been instructed to obey
you."
Instructions given, Springer continued her relentless gait and headed toward
the curb. As she did so sleek hoverlimosine appeared, as if by magic. It
arrived at the same instant she did, its rear passenger door opening
automatically, allowing her to enter without slowing down in her walk.
Before the door swung closed, Dane called out, "How about a date after this
is all done?"
Her eyes locked on him for a second. "We will not be meeting again." The
door finished closing, leaving Dane to stare at his reflection in the
mirrored surface of windows that could withstand anything short of a missile
hitting them.
"You were shot down, Boss," the albino, Artus, informed him.
"Girl's a 'bot underneath all that make up, I'm sure of it," Harrison said,
his voice eerily sounding the same as his brother's.
"Nah, she's human. Just a hard one to figure out. But those are the best
ones to fool around with. Just like our dear Whisper." He moved his hand out
to fondle the assassin's bottom, but discovered she was no longer there.
"I'm more concerned about the rivals that will be cutting into out cash
flow," Whisper said from behind Dane. Her tone was casual, as though she had
been there since they had emerged outside.
Dane reacted as though the assassin's movement were commonplace. "Ah yes,
our dear Mr. Killgore. He's taken a lot of prime deals in our lifetime,
hasn't he, gang?"
"Too many," Harrison agreed, his hand moving up to unconsciously stroke the
head of one of his sledgehammers.
Dane's turned his eternal smile on his companions. "Well, you know how
things in this business can go. People get killed in crossfires all the
time, and with us gunning for Scorphius Zeiram, and a couple of pesky
troubleshooters, why, Killgore might end up accidentally having a wad of
plasma take his head off." Dane fondled his weapon pod affectionately.
"Such a shame," Artus agreed.
"I've always wanted to tangle with a Samisdat," Whisper said, the only sign
of her intense excitement a slight narrowing of her eyes.
"Here comes the truck," Harrison informed the others.
"Then let's get this show on the road," Dane said.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
[End noted]
Yeah! More SOABF done. In know this was a set up chapter, but hey, you got
to have them sometimes. Honestly, this story is more than halfway done. I'm
pretty sure. Well, we'll find out one way or the other. ^_^
DB Sommer
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