He shook his head. “Not that you know him. That you’re a collaborator.”
Jet looked at Richter blankly. “A collaborater?”
Up until that point, she’d still been trying to get a feel for where he was going with this conversation. Now she saw it was all a set up. Maybe he was looking for some reason to turn her into the Nirreth. To claim she was something she wasn’t, maybe for a bounty or reward.
“I see,” she said, her jaw hardening.
Richter smiled, going back to cleaning his kitchen.
“Do you, now?”
Jet’s jaw hardened more. “I see you’re going to spin some bullshit tale to the lizard-skins, trying to make money off me and Anaze. When you know the reality. He saw me in trouble. His only crime was being dumb enough to try and help me out. To keep me from being eaten by a bunch of lizard-skins. If a skag helping out another skag is now a crime––”
“He’s not in trouble for that.”
“Then what?”
“Evading the law.”
“Lizard law.”
“The law is the law, friend.”
“Bullshit.”
Jet felt her fingers tighten into fists. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Richter gave her another level stare, as if seeing if she would say more.
When she didn’t, he shrugged, his voice casual, almost bored.
“You must know this ‘friend’ of yours is a rebel.”
Jet bit her lip, making a sweeping gesture with one hand.
Her voice came out sarcastic that time.
“Aren’t we all rebels, according to the Nirreth? And perhaps according to you, as well, since you seem to be their loyal little butt-monkey. I guess telling the lizard-skins these stories keeps you in ship fuel and Nirreth bodyguards, though. So, there’s that––”
“Butt-monkey?” He glanced at her, grinning. “Charming.”
“I’d say pretty accurate,” Jet retorted. “But why bother lying to me? I can’t pay you to go free, if that’s what you’re hoping. I can’t pay for Anaze. Or do you just like gloating? Sharing with the poor skags you sell out how clever you are?”
He chuckled again, shaking his head bemusedly as he worked in his kitchen.
She frowned at his back, tempted to say more. Even so, her mind was churning, trying to decide if there was any opening there, hidden in the man’s words.
She knew for damned sure Anaze wasn’t any rebel.
She’d never once seen him with any of those idiots, or down at the docks, or in any of their meetings, or recruitment rallies. She’d never heard any rumors around him going to meetings, much less with the rebels on ops. She certainly never heard him spout any of their propaganda lines; hell, he made fun of that crap, just like she did.
He hated the lizard-skins, sure.
But who didn't? That didn't exactly make a person a rebel, not when they were all under the same occupation. If it did, every human in her settlement was a card-carrying member of the rebellion, too.
Besides, if Anaze was a rebel, he would have told her.
This asshole was definitely lying.
When Richter continued his work over the small, built-in kitchen, rearranging spices and returning food to the cooler and putting pots and plates back on magnetic shelves, Jet watched him, silent.
Why was he toying with her at all? Was he bored?
He could have left her in the hold with Anaze.
He could have let the lizard-skins have her.
Looking him over a second time, she thought it was unlikely she could take him, even if she wasn’t unarmed and he was. Richter stood roughly six feet and maybe two inches, and wasn't skinny, unlike most of the tall men of her settlement. So, pretty big for a skag, but maybe his mother fed him well before he became a criminal. He was stocky, too, with broad shoulders and thick-looking legs. He wore body armor, or clothes with some kind of Nirreth tech built into the vest and pants.
He had a reputation as a fighter.
And yeah, he was armed.
The wrinkled, off-white shirt he wore underneath looked homespun, and his boots were leather. Maybe even leather from an actual cow.
Presumably he wore those to blend with real-life humans.
Still, the boots were a puzzle.
She wondered why anyone would accept body armor from the Nirreth and not some of those high-tech shoes they wore, that could climb up walls. She’d eyed those boots herself, more than once, wondering if she could modify a pair from a dead Nirreth to fit her without her tripping over her own feet.
Richter had been watching the course of her eyes.
She saw him smile.
“I wear their shoes, too,” he said, grunting a little in humor as he set the two bowls on the metallic table that stood beside her chair. “But they’re heavy as hell.”
Brushing off his hands, he smiled at her again, lifting an eyebrow.
“Hope you’re hungry. This stuff is surprisingly filling.”
Jet didn’t answer.
His perceptiveness unnerved her, though.
Hearing his last comment belatedly, she looked down at the soup and heard her stomach gurgle as the smell wafted closer.
Definitely chicken, or some substitute.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had meat. Or protein of any kind, really. Even beans were in short supply these days. Most of the fish they caught they had to trade for fuel and other necessities. A lot of it was poisoned anyway, given the condition of the Sound and the ocean itself. Like most in her settlement, Jet tried not to eat it very often, knowing it was likely contaminated with trace metals and could kill her over time.
A lot of people died from eating too much of it.
Mostly kids and old people, but younger adults, too.
They’d had a goat for a while, thanks to a good trade with a settlement south of them. But their small herd died in the last round of sickness that went through the longhouse. Goats were expensive, moreso all the time; they hadn’t been able to get up the money to trade for a new breeding pair, even with all the families working together.
The chickens they had all got stolen, by Richter’s people, they’d thought.
For all Jet knew, he was serving one to her right now.
“What’s your name, kitten?” he said, smiling. “Can you tell me that much? Or would you rather scowl at me anonymously?”
Jet folded her arms, unable to keep the anger out of her voice.
“Why do you work for them?” she said, holding his gaze. “Stealing from us getting too boring? Or was it their fancy footware that won you over?”
That time, the question didn’t seem to anger him so much.
He shrugged, picking up one of the bowls, positioning it more squarely in front of her.
“I have my reasons.”
“Are you going to let me go?” she said.
He gave her a serious look. “No.”
Jet felt her mouth harden.
Before she could speak, Richter shrugged.
“Too many of them saw you come on board. Too many of them saw you fight back. So no, kitten. I can’t let you go. I’ll only take partial credit for that, given you came on board and immediately put on a show.” He smiled, shrugging again. “Your presence has already been… requested. In the Green Zone.”
Jet fought to keep her expression steady.
She didn’t want him to know he’d rattled her, but he had, of course.
The Green Zone.
He might as well have told her he was delivering her to a Nirreth prison. She’d grown up with horror stories of the Green Zones her entire life.
She swallowed her reaction with an effort, focusing on his actual words.
She didn’t want to follow the open line he’d given her, when he baited her about her “presence being requested,” but that was even harder. Biting back the part of her that wanted to press him for more information, she refolded her arms, asking a different question instead.
�
��What about my friend?” she said.
He gave a bored shrug. “That depends.”
“Depends on what?”
Richter sat down on the couch across from her.
Casually, he picked up his own bowl, using a Japanese-style ladle to stir the soup, which looked more like stew now that Jet could see it. Her stomach gurgled as another waft of its aroma met her nose. She smelled potatoes in there, too, and carrots, and some kind of spice she didn’t know.
“Eat, girl,” he said more gently.
When Jet glanced over that time, he was watching her, seeming to recognize her expression.
She saw sympathy in those eyes, but resisted it.
“You’re nothing but a pile of bones,” he added, motioning down her body. “And I can see plainly enough that you want it.”
“Depends on what?” Jet said again, feeling her jaw tighten. “On what I do for you in here? On what I tell you? What does it depend on, Richter?”
She watched his face, refusing to look directly at the stew. Even so, she felt her stomach grind with another sharp spasm of hunger as she smelled it, and as she watched him eat.
The hunger sharpened into anger in her voice.
“You really think I’m some kind of rebel?” she said. “That I know anything worth anything to you? Or your precious, lizard-skin masters?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Well?” she said. “Then what does it depend on? Precisely?”
He looked up, his coffee-colored eyes hard on hers. For an instant, he seemed to be measuring her again, as if trying to make up his mind about something.
“You as good with that sword as it looked, girl?” Richter said.
Whatever she’d thought he might say, it wasn’t that.
“Good with it?” She stared. “As compared to what?”
“Any formal training?”
“With what?”
“With what…” Trailing, he lowered the spoon in exasperation. “With the sword, of course!”
She frowned. “Depends on what you mean.”
He stared at her in obvious frustration, the spoon propped on his thigh. “Do you ever just answer questions, girl? This could take all day.”
“Why would you want to know if I’ve been trained with a sword?” Jet said. “You looking for a paid mercenary? With all those lizard-skins on board?” Grunting, she squeezed her arms into her chest. “I think my skill-set might be redundant. Unless you’re looking for a human to infiltrate skag communities, and you’re barking up the wrong tree with me on that one, lizard lover.”
Turning her head, she glared at him.
“I’d stab you in the throat if you gave Black back to me for that,” she added shortly. “But I suspect you already know that.”
There was a silent.
It didn’t look like Richter would answer her at first.
Then he sighed, shaking his head.
“You may not believe me, but I’m trying to help you, girl. Being good with a sword could make a great deal of difference to you in the Green Zone.” He gave her a hard look. “It could mean the difference between a relatively good life for you there… and a really, really bad one.”
Jet grunted at that, too.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re all about ‘helping’ me right now,” she muttered.
Shaking her head, she gave him a hard look of her own.
“You’re right. I don’t believe you. And why do you keep calling me ‘girl’? You really think I’m that easy to bowl over with your superior situation? Hell, you can’t be more than a decade older than me yourself. And I doubt even that.”
He gave her another exasperated look.
“Who is interrogating who, here?” he said.
“I see no reason to answer your stupid questions,” Jet said, refolding her arms as she jerked her eyes off the stew. “A bunch of vague threats aren’t exactly convincing me that you’ve got my best interests at heart. I don’t know why you’d think I’d rush to answer whatever you asked, just because you asked it.”
“How about because if you don’t, I can have the Nirreth stick you a few more times,” he said, his voice a more overt threat. “Once I do that, you’ll answer anything I ask, kitten. See, I thought we’d try it the nice way, first. Have a meal together. Break bread, as it were. Discover if we might come to a more civilized agreement.”
She grunted, shaking her head.
“You really do like to threaten people,” she muttered. Turning her head, she gave him a dismissive look. “Maybe you’re going to need that lizard-skin venom, Richter. I don’t see myself coming to any kind of ‘civilized agreement’ with a lizard loving traitor like you.”
There was a silence.
In it, his brown eyes grew cold as ice.
Every ounce of friendliness leached out of them.
“Really?” he said, his voice matching his eyes. “You sure you want that, kitten? See, Nirreth like human females. They like them a lot. They especially like human females who can fight. I could have them stick you a few times, get all my questions answered. Then I could let a few of them play with you for a while after, if I were feeling so inclined.”
When she gave him a hard look, he smiled, his eyes still cold.
“I assure you, they’d enjoy it,” he added. “They’d enjoy it a lot, kitten. Especially after the headache you gave them when they first brought you on board. They’d be mighty grateful to me, for giving them such a treat.”
Jet felt her jaw tighten as he spoke, but she didn’t take her eyes off his.
After the pause went on longer, he sighed, setting his bowl on the table.
“I’d rather we started on a better foot than that,” he said. “Personally, that is.” Giving Jet another meaningful look, he added, “But don’t doubt for a minute that I’ll do it.”
“I don’t,” Jet said. “Doubt it. I never did.”
When he glanced over, his eyes inexplicably amused, she looked away.
Thinking over his words, she shrugged.
“I’ve had some training,” she said. “The man who made the sword taught me some.”
“Any fighting experience?”
“Sparring mostly. Mostly challenges. Friendly things. Not a lot of people have good swords.” Thinking, she fingered her hair out of her face. “A few real fights. Not friendly, I mean. Mostly raiders attacking the settlement. Or other skags. Unfriendlies.”
“Wouldn’t raiders be skags? Unfriendlies, as you say?”
“Not always.”
He gauged her face. “When wouldn’t they be? What kind of raiders do you mean?”
She looked him in the face. “Your people, if you must know.”
There was a pause where he only studied her face.
Then he startled her, breaking out into a smile, followed by a low chuckle.
“Thank you,” he said, slapping her shoulder affectionately with one thick hand. “I appreciate you telling me the truth.”
“What makes you think that was the truth?” she said.
“Because I know exactly who you are,” he said, his voice still friendly, but growing a meaningful edge. “I’ve known all along. Why do you think I had you picked up, Jet Tetsuo?”
Jet stared at him.
As she did, something in her stomach went cold.
5
No One Leaves
Jet shoveled another ladle-ful of stew into her mouth, pausing to chew on a particularly succulent piece of chicken for at least a minute before she swallowed. Half of the bowl still remained and she already found herself wishing Richter had made more.
He watched her eat, a bemused look on his face.
She was beginning to think of it as his normal expression.
Still, she had to give it to him.
Richter was a good cook.
It didn’t make her like him any more, but it made her glad she’d decided to eat his food before she tried to kill him.
“So you knew who I was,” she pr
ompted between bites.
“Yes, kitten, I knew.” He smiled, only it was closer to a smirk now. “I waited for months to catch you alone. I was beginning to think I’d need to stage a raid to get to you.”
“Why?” she said, for what felt like the fiftieth time since the conversation started. “Are you going to tell me? Skag girls can’t possibly be that valuable.”
“In your case, they might be?”
“Why?” she demanded.
“It’s complicated.”
“Complicated why?”
Richter smiled. He shook his head, half in bemusement. “You are quite the little firecracker, aren’t you? Everything’s a battle. Every question is a trap. I can’t say I’m disappointed, given that’s why they wanted you, but you are exhausting, Jet. I feel for whoever had to live with you, back at your muddy little settlement––”
“Who?” Jet cut in. “Who wanted me?”
Richter laughed. “You see? You’re relentless.”
“Relentless?” She gripped the spoon tighter. “This isn’t some game, Richter. I’m not going to find your pet names and constant belittling of me cute, or charming, or somehow amusing. You're talking about my life.”
Richter conceded her point with a head tilt and a nod.
“True.” Wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin, he leaned back in his chair. “All right, Jet Tetsuo. I’ll speak plainly. You’re now the property of the Nirreth high command for the Pacific region. The Royals, as every good Nirreth citizen calls them.”
He paused, gauging her face, as if letting that part sink in.
He went on in the same businesslike voice.
“As I, Eamon Richter, am currently employed by said Royals, and under contract to them, anything I aquire under the auspices of that contract, de facto belongs to them. In your case, that means you, Jet.”
Exhaling, he combed a hand through his hair.
“As for why I went looking for you, in particular, well, I got a very particular request. A rather detailed request, regarding the acquisition of a human being. Not you, specifically, of course, but someone meeting a set of criteria that happens to be rare, and that you happen to fit.”
Smiling faintly, he winked at her.
“I’d gotten wind of you already. You featured in a report I got from some of my people, following a raid, as you said. A cute girl with long black hair who’s good with a sword… that kind of thing tends to stand out.”
The Complete Alien Apocalypse Series (Parts I-IV Plus Bonus Novella): An Apocalyptic, Romantic, Science Fiction, Alien Invasion Adventure Page 6