Heat Seeker

by Scot C Morgan

  "Quiet it down?" Dewey was still ignoring the cage. He was zeroed in on Jake. "How am I supposed to do that?" He spoke as loud as the creature shrilled.

  Jake turned back to Dewey and saw the anger on his face. Dewey's face was still blue, but it was pretty obvious he was pissed. Jake realized his misstep. "Let's just get it out of here. Head back to the ship."

  The creature shrieked again. Jake saw the cage jolt, a little at first, then more. He was too far from it. He pointed at it. "Dewey!"

  Dewey looked to the cage. It sat on the edge of the table like a plane on a fulcrum. Half the cage was six inches above the table. The other half dipped as far below the table, off the side. "Oh!" Dewey lunged for the cage and another shriek sounded from within it. He didn't get to it in time. The cage jolted again and fell over the side of the table out of sight.

  Jake heard the crash of the metal against the floor. The thickness of the table and the chairs around it made it hard to see under it to the floor at the far side of alcove, where the cage had dropped.

  The shrieking abruptly stopped.

  Dewey placed one hand on the table and leaned down to look under it. "Oh, no," he said, his voice muffled by the thick concrete slab above him.

  Jake saw Dewey shift his stance, still ducked halfway under the table. "Oh, no," he said again.

  "Squeakers!" Tiffin said.

  What? Not him too.

  Jake turned to Tiffin. She was holding open the flap to her vest pocket and looking inside it.

  "Settle down, little guy," she said. "Everything's going to be okay."

  "Ah!" Dewey yelled. Jake darted his eyes back to Dewey and saw him jump, with his head still under the concrete table.

  Jake saw Dewey apparently hit his head on the underside of the table.

  Dewey came up from underneath it rubbing the top of his head. He looked past Jake toward the other side of the room.

  Jake noticed Dewey was scanning the floor. "Let me guess. It's not in the cage."

  "The fall knocked the cage door open," Dewey said.

  "Huh," Tiffin said, drawing both her hands around her vest pocket. "Where is it?"

  "I don't know," Dewey said. He craned his head from side to side, then pointed at the other side of the room. "Over there somewhere, I think."

  Tiffin moved her mouth closer to her vest pocket. "It's okay, Squeakers. You'll be safe in there. I won't let it get you."

  "Dewey," Jake said, "that's our cargo. We need to find the thing." He walked toward the other side of the room, leaning down to scan the floor. He raised back up to address the crowd. "Everyone! We need you to look around you. We've lost some cargo and we need you to help find it. We can't leave without it."

  "You've gotta be kidding," a man standing beside a table near the middle of the room said. "Why the hell did you three come in here? This was a quiet place before you came along!"

  "Are you tanked, Graham?" a man at the table next to him said. "Since when has this been a quiet place?"

  Several men and women broke into laughter. After that exchange most of the room settled back into making the ruckus and conversation they'd been enjoying before the shootout. The people who had cleared the area nearest the two bodies on the floor made their way to the bar and filled in the empty seats there.

  The room was too crowded for Jake to get a good look at the floor and no one was cooperating in the search effort. Jake stood up and braced his hands on his hips. "Well this is…" He was too frustrated to bother with the rest of the sentence.

  "What are we going to do?" Tiffin said, as she stepped beside him.

  Jake opened his mouth and let it sit open for a few moments. Then he closed it without a word and shook his head. He shrugged. "Shoot everyone, I guess. Be easier to look for the thing that way."

  "Jake," Tiffin said in a disappointed tone.

  "Sorry," he said. "Dewey? Any suggestions?" Jake's eyes widened. "Maybe you can see where we'll catch it in a few minutes and tell us. Then we can go there and wait for it." He gave a weak chuckle and shook his head again.

  "What the hell!" The voice topped all the other chatter in the place.

  Jake peered around the room to see who yelled. He saw a man staggering back from his chair while pointing down at the floor under his table. Jake pushed through the people in front of him and made his way past a couple of tables.

  "Damn thing bit me!" The same man said.

  "Ouch!" A woman two tables away from the man climbed onto the seat of her chair.

  Jake made his way toward her, glancing back at Tiffin and Dewey. "You two get over here and help me catch the thing." Dewey and Tiffin started through the crowd, but were slowed as people moved away from the commotion but toward Jake and the two of them.

  "You alright?" someone said to the woman standing on the chair.

  She didn't answer, but drew a long slender blaster from a thigh holster. Jake saw her take aim at a spot beneath an adjacent table.

  "Wait!" he said, shoving two more people aside, knocking them into others seated behind them.

  The woman fired. "Damn." She fired again. "Argh."

  She's gonna kill my cargo!

  "Move out of the way!" Without taking much notice of him, Jake pushed another man to get him out of the way. The man didn't move when Jake pushed him. Surprised, Jake pulled his eyes away from the woman who was still blasting at the floor, changing the direction of her fire with every shot, and following each blast with a curse or a grunt.

  The man Jake failed to move turned around. Jake forgot about the woman on top of the chair as he raised his gaze up a full foot to look the man in front of him in the eyes. He quickly measured the man's shoulder width against his own. Jake was stacked and ready to facedown most men, but he questioned his current situation.

  Frustrated at losing his cargo, getting stabbed, and nearly getting his head blown off, his judgement failed him. "If you're not going to help me find this damn…whatever it is, then get out of my way already."

  Jake heard two more blasts from the woman on the chair. He listened for her followup swearing to make sure she hadn't shot his cargo. She obliged. "Good," Jake said.

  The giant in front of Jake didn't move out of his way, but he didn't say or do anything either. Jake saw the man wasn't human—some kind of breathing holes down each side of his face, no nose. Jake hadn't noticed the features at first. "So, you don't understand me. Okay." Jake shrugged and made his move to step around the behemoth.

  "I understand you don't belong here," the massive man said. Jake felt the man's deep booming voice against his head. It seemed to penetrate his skull, made him feel off balance.

  Jake shifted tactics. "You're right. We don't. We just need to get our cargo and we're gone."

  The towering man stepped aside, but looked down then back up at Jake. He seemed even more pissed now. Jake shook his head. "What?" He glanced down as the large man had done. "Oh. Sorry about that." He placed his hand over the cut on his side to keep more blood from dripping onto the man's bare hairy feet. Jake held up his forefinger and tucked in his lips before addressing the man. "That was my fault." He made a short expressive sigh of sympathy to the man. "It'll wash right off." He chuckled briefly. "At least it didn't get on your boots."

  The behemoth grunted. His chest swelled as he sucked in a strong breath before bellowing it out the holes on the sides of his face.

  Jake felt the warm air blow down over him. He stepped backward and then to the side before turning away from the man and continuing toward the woman firing the blaster. By now, the crowd was roaring cheers for her with every shot.

  Jake couldn't get to her. The crowd had formed a ring around her and the four tables nearest her.

  Why did I take this job?

  "There it goes!" a man in the crowd called out.

  Jake looked over several heads in front of him and saw someone pointing toward the bar. The crowd began to disperse from the cheering ring and move toward the bar, but Jake moved quickly to beat them the
re.

  As he, Tiffin, and Dewey converged at the bar the jalak bartender stood up behind the counter holding the Gefreety Death-bringer. He had one of his suction cups attached to the top of the creature's head.

  The crowd who'd been cheering the woman shooting from atop the chair let out a collective sigh of disappointment. Their sport was over.

  Jake was surprised at how calm the Death-bringer was dangling from the bartender's tentacle. "Dewey, bring the cage."

  "Right," Dewey said.

  Tiffin walked over to the jalak, taking a spot next to the stool across from him, on her side of the bar. She kept one hand gently against her vest pocket, patting Squeakers through the cloth. "How did you do that?"

  A device attached to the jalak's head flashed a blue light several times, then the jalak replied. Jake heard the response but it was gibberish to him. The device on the bartender flashed again while a computer-generated translation emitted from a speaker below the blue light. "It was hiding under the bar. Once I got my suction cup attached to it, I calmed the creature."

  Tiffin looked down at her pocket for a moment. "Sometimes they just need to feel someone is there for them, don't they?"

  Jake rolled his eyes and came up beside Tiffin. "Handy trick, working in a place like this. Can we borrow one of those suction cups?"

  Tiffin glared at him. Since she kicked him in his shin at the same time, he definitely noticed her disapproval.

  The jalak said nothing, but continued holding the Gefreety up by the top of its head until Dewey came over with the cage and plopped it down on the bar top. The jalak placed the still-quiet creature inside the cage, keeping the tentacle suction cup on the creature for a few more moments. Jake saw ripples move down the jalak's tentacle toward the Gefreety. Within a few seconds, the Death-bringer fell asleep and the jalak bartender withdrew his tentacle.

  "Amazing," Tiffin said.

  "Hmm." Jake raised his left eyebrow slightly and shrugged a little. "Thanks. Didn't mean to offend you about your, uh." Jake pointed at one of the jalak's suction cups.

  The bartender nodded toward Jake, which he took to mean apology accepted.

  "Just thought it'd be nice to make sure that thing doesn't wreak havoc on my ship."

  "You're leaving soon?" the jalak asked, the words coming from its translator.

  "Yeah. Sarah's not always the patient type either. So, I appreciate your help."

  The bartender nodded again.

  "Dewey, close it up."

  Dewey shut the front of the cage and locked it. He looked at the bartender. "How long will he be out?"

  The bartender's translator did its job. "A few hours, maybe. At least a couple."

  "Thanks," Jake said. He pulled a credit chip from his pocket and tossed it on the counter in front of the jalak. "Sorry about the trouble. We'll be going now." He glanced over his shoulder to the other patrons. Most had returned to their own concerns, talking and drinking. Few now gave the caged Gefreety any notice.

  The jalak reached onto the counter with a tentacle attached to the lower portion of his body and slid the credit chip off, tucking it…somewhere. "Don't worry about them," the bartender said with the aid of the device on the side of his head. "We were short on security today. Last guy retired." He leaned over the bar and stretched out a tentacle to point around the side of the room, near the back. "I think he retired somewhere over there. Yes, there's the stain on the floor. That Herlian blood doesn't scrub up so easily." He pulled back and grabbed a few glasses from a bin just under the bar and, with another tentacle, picked up a rag and began wiping the glasses down. "We should've stopped those three from coming after you like that. Let me make it up to you." He tipped his head toward the alcove where Jake, Tiffin, and Dewey had been seated. "I'll send over another round of drinks."

  "You sure?" Jake said.

  "You're not the first one to cause a stir in here," the bartender said. "Happens nearly every night." He waved a tentacle toward the crowd behind Jake. "That's half the reason they come in here."

  Jake chuckled. "Right. Well, thanks. I guess we could settle down for a few minutes."

  The jalak nodded toward the alcove.

  "Thanks," Jake said as he headed back to his seat. Tiffin took another moment to look over the jalak and then to calm Squeakers with a whisper to her vest pocket. Dewey picked up the Gefreety's cage gingerly and slowly stepped back to the table in the alcove.

  "Well, that was fun," Jake said as Dewey and Tiffin sat.

  "Fun?" Dewey jerked his shoulders a little when he spoke, but Jake could tell he was holding back, most likely because of the Gefreety caged in front of him.

  Drinks were brought. They sipped them and Jake watched a few people come out of the room behind the bar to carry off the bodies of the two male attackers. Tiffin and Dewey faced away from the cleanup activities, though Jake saw Tiffin steal a glimpse. He noticed her lower lip quiver, and the tiniest sniffle. Then she widened her eyes for a second, as if clearing a lash which was irritating her.

  Dewey must've noticed too. He put his hand near hers on the poly-coated concrete slab, close, but not touching. "You didn't have a choice."

  Jake felt badly that he'd made light of the situation, now that he could see how upset Tiffin was from the events.

  She turned her gaze to Dewey. Jake saw Tiffin's vest pocket moving—Squeakers was apparently restless. Tiffin didn't notice.

  "You saved Jake's life," Dewey said.

  Jake wasn't sure if it was only the drink getting to him, but his face felt flush.

  Could've been her about to take a blast to the face.

  Jake slammed his mug on the table. A splash of his drink flew up and fell over his hand and onto the table. "It's my fault!"

  Tiffin and Dewey looked at him.

  "No," Tiffin said. "It's not your fault. How could it be yours?"

  Jake used his free hand to wipe the shallow pool of spilled drink from the table, onto the floor beside him.

  "They're always coming for me," Jake said, clinching his hand on the mug. His knuckles bulged and a few veins on the back of his hand stood out.

  "Wasn't enough to have Sarah—" Jake cut off mid-sentence and stood up. "I'm gonna flush out." He nodded toward his mug which he left on the table.

  "Right," Dewey said, but Jake had already stepped away from their table, heading to the door at the back of the bar.

  Chapter 15

  Out of the corner of her eye, Tiffin saw a menacing-looking man walk past her, toward the door Jake had taken. She turned her attention away from Dewey, who was still talking. The man who passed by her had oak-tree-thick arms, like Jake. She smelled him too. Sweat. Meanness. Meanness's a smell, right? She decided it was, and that guy wreaked of it.

  "I knew the more time we spent with him the more likely we'd end up in some kind of trouble," Dewey said. "He said he's had guys hunting him for years. Those must've been some of them."

  Tiffin wasn't paying him any attention now. As the man reached the door at the back of the bar, two more of his kind walked by the table. She leaned closer to the edge of the half-wall partition, peaking around it to look at them as they followed the path of the first man. Same smell, she noted. Both of them had blasters holstered on their hips, but then so did most everyone in the place.

  She turned quickly back to Dewey. "Did you see those three?" She spoke quietly, but made her urgent concern clear to Dewey.

  "Huh?" Dewey looked around.

  "The three guys who passed by," Tiffin said. "Jake's size. Mean looking." Her eyebrows raised as it dawned on her they all wore the same pants and jackets—black and dark gray, uniforms she decided. "Yes."

  "Yes, what?" Dewey said, shrugging. "Are you okay?"

  "Patch."

  Dewey slightly exhaled and gently shook his head as he half-turned up his hands.

  "Their jackets," Tiffin said. "They had the same patch."

  "Alright. What did it look like? And why do we care?"

  "It had a ship an
d some squiggly lines around it. I don't know. But I think they may be going after Jake."

  "I think you're imagining things."

  "I don't think so," Tiffin said. "Can't you use your future looking or something?"

  Dewey widened his eyes. "Oh, wow. Uh. No. Sorry. Doesn't work like that."

  "Well, if you could, you'd see I'm right." Tiffin crossed her arms and furrowed her brow, looking forward now, instead of at Dewey.

  "What are the odds of a second team going after him the same day in the same bar? Jake will be out in a minute and we'll leave," Dewey said. "You'll see. I know you're probably still upset at what happened, but—"

  "Are you kidding me?" Tiffin shot a dagger stare at Dewey.

  He was speechless until she backed off her glare. "I didn't mean anything by it," he said. "This place…I mean, I don't blame you for worrying. Given that—"

  "Ugh!" Tiffin stood up abruptly, bumping the table as she did. She realized Dewey may be right. She was probably overreacting because of what she'd just gone through. But, he didn't have to point it out, she thought. But those three did look up to something.

  Dewey looked at the Gefreety's cage. It was motionless, but he lifted the corner of its cover and peeked in.

  Tiffin felt Squeakers move slightly inside her vest pocket. She placed her hand softly against the outside of the pocket. "Why don't you take that thing outside," she said. "I'll wait for Jake and we'll come out in a minute."

  Dewey looked up from the cage. "Are you sure?"

  Tiffin felt guilty for snapping at Dewey, but she didn't want to address it now. Her stomach seemed knotted and her chest tight. She saw in her head the image of her shooting the man who attacked Jake. She needed a minute by herself.

  "Yes. I'm sure," she said. "I'll be fine. You're right. My imagination." She crossed her arms again and nodded toward the death-bringer's cage. "Just take that thing outside. We'll be out in a minute."