The Hunt for Red Fluffy

by Angel Martinez

  "Hmm." Ness folded his wings tight and found a good spot in the branch tangle to settle cross-legged. "I just… I didn't like the idea of anyone being out here as bait. Alone. And no, Fluffy doesn't count. You've no idea if she would get help if you needed it."

  "I do have a comm channel for the Brimstone. And I need to point out that Miss Fluffy, who's been doing a superb job, is really the bait here."

  "Yes. I saw part of the job she's doing." Ness shuddered. "Hunting humans isn't something you should encourage."

  Julian turned back to his surveillance. "Nothing to do with me. She came that way. That's what hellcat prides are for, I hear."

  "That's horrible." Ness snapped his mouth shut, afraid he'd sounded stupid and naïve again. It was horrible, but it sounded like something he should have known.

  "Ness." Julian's voice sounded suddenly weary and colorless. "This might not be the best thing for you. I will do what I have to. I always do. No more. No less. But there will be more death. I can guarantee it."

  "I have killed, you know." Ness spoke gently now, because something in Julian's voice had been so nearly broken. "With the hosts. I can if I have to."

  Julian heaved a barely audible sigh. "That's just it. Someone like you should never have to. That's why the universe has people like me."

  Hints and clues started to add up for Ness. While he kept an eye on the cutter, he began to do the sums—the subtle lines around Julian's eyes that said he wasn't twenty-five any longer, the sudden bouts of melancholy Julian tried so hard to hide, the unguarded moments when he simply looked bone tired.

  "How long until you would be allowed to retire?"

  "Retire?" An entire planet's worth of scorn colored the word before Julian laughed. "Oh, my dear Mr. Angelus. Field agents don't retire."

  Ness floundered, completely shocked. "But…they can't mean for you do to this… That is, the human body…"

  "Isn't designed to last forever, yes." Julian's chuckle was softer this time but no less bitter. "Do you know I'm the oldest field agent on record? Most die before they're thirty when their luck runs out. Often small mistakes, but still quite dead. Those who survive eventually drift into desk jobs or instructor assignments."

  "But not you."

  An insistent squeak from one of Julian's pockets signaled Nic's patience with his confinement running out. Julian's answer had to wait while he lifted the white rat out and set him on Fluffy's back, which Nic chose to scamper up to perch on her head. Fluffy twitched a tufted ear but otherwise didn't react.

  "I haven't felt the call to come in out of the dark," Julian answered the non-question. "A desk job would kill me more surely than anything out in the field, and death by boredom doesn't have any appeal."

  "You'd be a good instructor," Ness suggested. "You were so patient with Heckle."

  "It would take effort not to be patient with Heckle. Not an arrogant molecule in him. I've done some teaching in those cases where the Agency needed someone unconventional. Nic, hold your head up a touch more. I need to check your camera."

  Waiting quietly didn't get Ness any further, so he finally prompted, "And?"

  "That's perfect. Excellent definition out here." Which was obviously meant for Nic. "And what? Oh. Instructing." Julian shrugged the shoulder that wouldn't disturb his rifle. "Students learn and move on. I get restless."

  So, you have a death wish, a long, drawn-out one. And what could one say to that? Please change how you think about life? A bit of shame niggled at Ness. He'd resented Julian for being so self-assured and self-contained, so independent and flawlessly graceful, but a tangled ball of pain sat at his core. If Ness had stopped being angry with him for more than a few moments, he might have seen it before.

  "Finally. They're moving." Julian scrambled back from the leaves and returned his rifle to its holster on his back. "Took them a bit to gather the courage for another try at tracking. That's your doing, Fluff. Back inside, Mr. Nic. Time to move."

  Ness moved aside to let them climb down, Fluffy with all the care of a charging ram, and Julian, Nic safely pocketed, with more cautious grace. He stopped halfway down and glanced up.

  "Ness?"

  "I'll follow through the trees. My wings are less of a liability up here."

  "Good." That bright grin flashed. "Air support."

  A laugh surprised Ness, but he quickly stifled it. If Duomo's people were moving out from the cutter, they would need silence now. Julian and Fluffy nearly vanished in the underbrush while Ness took wing and tracked them by the subtle disturbances of leaves, like the tracks of water striders on a glassy pond.

  "What are we doing, my dear?" Shax had watched the back-and-forth tablet game between his son and his alien visitor for some time, with no enlightenment occurring. Not one jot.

  "Talking in drawings." Leopold waved his tablet, which currently had… Shax had no idea what the picture was. "Three Arms Circling is hungry. We're discussing food."

  "Three Arms Circling?"

  "Possibly Waving. Direct translation is hard. But that is their name."

  "Ah. I see. Are they well? I'm not sure the autodoc can do much for them if they aren't, but if there's anything we can do?"

  "They state they're unharmed. They only wish to go home. And they are hungry."

  Shax turned to find Three Arms Circling staring at him. It was more than a little disconcerting. "How would we know what's safe for them to eat?"

  "The suit, as far as we can figure out, has analysis capabilities," Mac said from where he was hooking up a bent metal arm to the side of the tank, for hell only knew what purpose. "Probably have to trust our guest to know what's safe and what isn't."

  The thump of muffled hooves on the steps turned Shax's attention to Heckle trotting toward them with a covered tray.

  "I see the offerings have arrived."

  "Um, these are for Three Arms Circling, Captain." Heckle looked left and right apprehensively, whispering, "Did we summon someone? Do we need offerings?"

  "A figure of speech, Heck. No actual summoning circles were drawn today." Shax pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

  "That's good." Heckle trotted past with a cheerful whistle. "Demon lords get so cranky in summoning circles. And then they don't like any of the offerings, and the whole place fills up with smoke, and—"

  "Heck," Mac interrupted gently. "Tray, please."

  Shax gave his haughtiest sniff. "I was never cranky when summoned."

  "People called for you a lot, then, Cap?" Corny asked from where he leaned against the nearby packing crates.

  "All the time." Shax cleared his throat when Heckle gave him a sideways glance. "Often, that is. Once or twice."

  The sounds of the crew trying their best not to laugh at him were very loud indeed. Mac recovered first and placed the tray of offerings—of food choices, damn it—carefully in the frame he'd constructed above the tank. Three Arms Circling poked their head up above the water as far as their eyes. The careful, thorough perusal of the food made Shax wonder if they were a scientist or an engineer or if the octopus spacers even had careers or job specialization. Maybe they were all scientists.

  Shax had plenty of other things he could have been doing. Worrying. Fretting. Being annoyed at certain people who rushed off impetuously into alien forests. At both of them. All three…four of them. He wanted the annoyance to outweigh the worry, which it didn't even have the grace to do. The anxiety over what could happen out there sat like a lump of cold, undercooked oatmeal in his stomach. Oh, he had a good idea about why his intrepid loves had sallied forth, and the reasons had mostly been unstated. Julian with his fatalistic I will probably die today, but I'll save those worth saving attitude and Ness rushing off not for reasons of responsibility alone but in a manner that suggested going after someone he had feelings for. Shax risked falling into an endless loop of anxious speculation, so setting aside all of that for their guest was a good distraction.

  Finally, Three Arms Circling selected a p
iece of carrot. Maybe the color was attractive. Who could tell? They held it carefully with one arm, examined it visually, then ducked back underwater to consult with their suit's instruments. Lights flashed. They tried a different part of the suit. After more flashing lights, Three Arms Circling resurfaced and carefully replaced the carrot slice on the tray.

  They repeated the process with a small cube of beef, an orange section, and a piece of boiled potato, each item carefully returned to the tray. When they reached for the sardine, Shax had a moment of hope. Three Arms Circling consulted the suit for longer with the sardine than any other food item. After an additional examination involving four of their arms, they brought the sardine underneath their body, where presumably a mouth equivalent was located. It might have been an exaggeration to say everyone held their collective breath, but there was a definite leaning toward the tank as they waited.

  Quick as a whip, one arm shot up out of the water and hurled the sardine out of the tank. Sardine, now slightly chewed, smacked Shax between the eyes before it slid down to flop onto the deck plates with a wet splat.

  All eyes on him, some apprehensive, Shax glanced down at the violently rejected sardine and turned to Leopold. "We'll put that down as a no, shall we?"

  Leopold nodded as he made a note on the list Shax hadn't realized he had, and there was more than one sigh of relief from the watchers. When all the food items had been examined and tested with no repetition of the Great Sardine Toss, Three Arms circling had eaten a cube of tofu, some dried nori, and a piece of one of Ms. Ivana's cinnamon buns.

  "Ms. Ivana?"

  "Yes, Cappy-poo?"

  "We may need more research, but I think your cinnamon buns are quite possibly a universal food."

  Chapter Six

  They'd made it through the night without much effort. Having Ness as his wingman—ha!—allowed Julian to snatch ten-minute catnaps, which he could run on for days. Ness dozed when they switched watches but confessed that he could go without sleep for weeks if he had to.

  "Not with the best brain function after a while, but I can do it," Ness said as he snuggled down next to Fluffy, who had napping down to an exacting science.

  Whenever the cutter's crew pinpointed them and sallied forth to hunt them, they moved. Never too far, always in a wide, ragged circle around the landing site. Julian credited their continued success to the fact that the goons didn't seem to understand that they were hunting a cat and not a ship and that they'd been made timid by imagining the fates of those who didn't return. That single kill of Fluffy's had done it. They were convinced that the planet hosted large and vicious predators.

  Of course, the planet did. The vicious predators simply weren't native.

  There had been ill-advised hunts by hover cycle as well. Hard to spot anything at all from above the trees and impossible to navigate successfully below the canopy. One of the goons had even managed to take himself out with no interference from Julian whatsoever.

  "Julian?"

  Ah, the angel wakes. "Hmm?"

  "Why are we playing cat and mouse with them still?"

  Julian turned for a brief glance back at his companions, trying to stop his puzzled frown. "As a distraction."

  "Oh, yes. I understood that part." Ness twitched his wings, fanning and resettling them. They truly were glorious. "But you're an expert saboteur. I don't like saying it, but why not, um…"

  "See to the ship itself?" Julian turned back to watching the landing site, not wanting to focus on Ness's lovely face as he talked about wholesale slaughter. "For now, while the Brimstone's grounded, we need them still operational. As soon as we have word that we're ready to go, I'll consider the more complete option, but while they're still reporting in, there's less chance of additional Duomo ships coming to check on them."

  "I see." A bit of chill had crept back into Ness's voice, but for once Julian didn't think it had to do with him. "I hadn't considered that."

  Several meanings came to mind, but Julian took a stab in the dark. "I hope you're not blaming yourself for not thinking of all contingencies. You've been out on your own in a treacherous universe for… What? Two, three years at the most?"

  "That's not relev—"

  "But it is, oh lovely fallen. It is." Julian continued without looking around. "Constant vigilance and adaptive learning are key to surviving the human universe. Humans have an entire childhood to start figuring it out—and some have to learn faster than others. Even Shax was a bumbling idiot on his first adolescent adventures with humans."

  "Surely not."

  Julian chuckled. "He hasn't told you those stories because he doesn't want to look like a fool in front of you. Ask Ver sometime. He's always more than happy to share."

  "No doubt." The tone was dry, maybe a little amused, but the brittle cold had thawed.

  I see you, Sagnessagiel. I see how deeply you consider everything, how you wrestle with yourself, how fast you learn, how fiercely protective you are. Maybe someday you'll see me, too. None of that made it out of Julian's head, of course. They were working well together. Best to leave well enough alone.

  A flash of blue drew Julian's attention, though it turned out to be another group of helicopter wildlife. Pretty. So much of the planet's small fauna tended toward green and brown. This flock had bright-blue bodies with delicate yellow curlicue markings, the spinning rotor-wing blurs of summer sky. They weren't anything like the vids he'd seen of Earth butterflies, and yet the way they dipped and rose in the air made his brain insist they were.

  The buttercopters drew closer, most likely drawn by beings who clearly didn't belong there. Were they curious, thinking creatures? Or just drawn by an unusual scent? One landed on the back of Julian's glove, its delicate body no thicker than his little finger. At rest, the whirring wings were as translucent as tracing paper supported by a fine mesh of darker-blue membranes.

  "Well, hello there, pretty." Julian brought his hand around so he could watch both the landing site and the buttercopter, fascinated by the arrangement of wing blades. To his delight, several more landed, his black-clad arm suddenly a carnival of color.

  The branches rustled as Ness moved in for a closer look, his breath brushing Julian's ear. "How amazing."

  The buttercopters walked carefully on Julian's arm and hand, their tri-hooked feet scratching along the armored synth-leather. The one on his hand finally settled at the base of his thumb, feeling around with a proboscis appendage.

  "It's licking me." Julian tipped his head and smiled at the strange little beast. "It's seems to have—ow! Damn it!"

  "What is it?" Ness's hands hovered over him.

  "Little bastard bit me," Julian grumbled as he detached it from his hand and tossed it away from him. "How in the name of armory gods did it get through my glove? Ow, ow, ow, fuck! They're all biting me!"

  Face set with grim determination, Ness plucked one after the other off Julian's arm, hurling them away. Fluffy sat beside him, swatting down the ones who tried to come back. Apparently this was great fun, since she caught a few and ate them for good measure. The swarm eventually gave up to look for less-dangerous meals, but now Julian had other concerns.

  "My hands are tingling." He scrambled up onto his knees and tore his helmet off as the blood began to sing in his ears and his chest constricted. Not panic reaction. He knew the difference. With shaking hands, he holstered his rifle and tried to fumble open his jacket. "I don't want to alarm you. But I think I've been poisoned. Venomed. Whichever."

  "What?" Ness had a supporting arm around him immediately. "We need to get you back to the ship. Now."

  Julian shook his head. "It's moving too fast. Probably wouldn't make it." His vision already darkening around the edges, he leaned against the solid angel chest at his back. "Inside the jacket. Right side. Second vial in."

  "All right…okay… I have it." Ness's words barely made it out through clenched teeth, probably holding back his own panic. "What now?"

  "Inject, please. Muscle between neck a
nd shoulder."

  He barely felt the nip of the autoinjector, though the click and hiss echoed in his head.

  "Julian?"

  Maybe he patted Ness's arm. Hard to tell when he couldn't feel his hands anymore. "If I don't wake up? Explosives on the left." The chuckle probably worried Ness more, but it was an old instructor joke—don't mix up your antidotes and your incendiaries. Ah, well. He'd had more time than he had any right to, and there were worse places to die than in an angel's arms.

  A certain vibrating tension vanished when Julian lost consciousness, as if all of the ISE agent's limitless energy and vigilance had been tangible things. Ness checked to be sure his pulse was steady—not strong but steady—and gathered him in closer, trying not to be disturbed by how small Julian's body was without him actively occupying it.

  Beside him, Fluffy's tufted ears jerked forward as her growl vibrated through the branches.

  "What? Oh, perfect. Of course."

  Now there was movement from the cutter. Seven heavily armed and armored crew emerged as a block, checked readings, and began a ponderous course into the forest as they tried to keep every compass point covered.

  "Ms. Fluff, we have to move." I could try to pick them off as Julian would, but my aim isn't nearly as good. I'd just put us in danger. He tapped Fluffy on the shoulder. "I have a very odd request. Though maybe not as odd if you're a cat."

  Meep?

  Ness pointed to a particularly dense tangle of branches. "Could you do a poo over there? You should be, ah, shedding some of your nanites by now and we'll be able to fuddle their tracking."

  Mreh.

  As he'd already suspected, Fluffy understood far more language than a cat should have, and she made her way carefully to the indicated spot.

  "I'm going down to the ground so you can track me." Ness wasn't about to watch her do her business. "Catch up to us when you can."

  Julian's helmet tucked under one arm and the assassin himself held close to his chest, Ness spread his wings and glided to the forest floor, where he took off running. The enemy was moving slowly enough that he had plenty of time to circle around the ship until he was essentially behind them. Confusion to our enemies, as Shax liked to say. Carrying Julian—rifle, helmet, and all—made it clumsy, and the underbrush didn't entirely move aside for him, but Ness kept barreling on, determined to keep them all safe.