Martian Quadrilogy Box Set

by Brandon Ellis

  The bill was created in the name of a bigger defense budget to build a stronger military to defend against a surprise Dunrakee attack, but Ozzy knew where most of that money really went—into the politicians’ pockets.

  “When was the last time you had some food?” Ozzy asked, patting the dog’s head.

  “I don’t know. A few days ago, maybe?” replied the man, his deep crow’s feet told Ozzy that the homeless guy had a rough life.

  Ozzy pulled out his auric wallet. “You have one of these?” All citizens, regardless if they were homeless or not, were issued an auric wallet. It was hexagonal and the size of a small cup coaster.

  The man nodded and pulled out his wallet. “Thank you.”

  Ozzy tapped his wallet against the man’s. A hologram popped up, displaying both accounts.

  Ozzy grimaced. “You barely have enough for a meal.”

  The man nodded. “Been tough these last few weeks.” He shrugged and wrapped his arm around his dog. “Don’t know why.” He took a glance at Ozzy’s account, and his eyes widened. “Looks like you’ve had a few good weeks.” He winked and smiled, showing several missing teeth.

  “I have.” Ozzy typed in an amount and tapped the man’s wallet a second time. Transferred blinked on both accounts. “There you go. You can probably buy some food now.”

  The guy looked at his account balance and put his hand over his mouth. “No, no, but thank you. I can’t accept this much.”

  Ozzy grabbed the man’s shoulder and squeezed. “My daughter always brings me a smile when I see her, and that’s something I think all people should have. Maybe this will be your smile to get you going. This could be your first day of a better life.” He pointed to the guy’s auric wallet. “With that, you can create a life you want. I suggest you don’t waste it.”

  The man’s eyes welled up. He choked on another thank you and put his hand out to touch Ozzy’s. Ozzy clasped his hands around the man’s.

  “I can’t believe it,” the homeless man responded. “I can buy food for a year.”

  Ozzy let go of the man’s hand, remembering his mom’s words, “To walk a mile in another’s shoes eases a person’s judgment and stills a person’s mind.”

  “Stay safe,” said Ozzy, dipping his head

  He rounded a corner, and he saw Lulu’s Bar and Grill blinking on an old fashioned neon sign. It was a good niche and did well in times like these.

  The stench of grease and sweat wafted to his nostrils when Ozzy walked through the door. The bar was packed with people, mostly low-lifes, drinking their anger and depression away and fighting the urge to argue with everyone in sight.

  The inebriated laughter was almost enough to make him turn around and exit the building.

  He coughed the greasy smoke away and took a shallow breath, looking around for someone who might meet the description of a crime lord’s assistant, or whoever it might be who wanted to do business with him.

  He knew another dig wasn’t a good idea, but he needed the money. A quick side gig wouldn’t be too much of a hassle.

  A person was sitting at the bar wearing a helmet and mask, staring at Ozzy. The guy had a cape, much like Gragas and his Galactic Knights, though this one was dark and menacing with fiery red flames streaking through black.

  The stool scraped across the floor as the person stood and approached. He flipped an auric wallet in his hand and caught it. The guy was short, too. “Are you Ozzy Mack?” His voice was deep, monotone, and robotic.

  Ozzy cocked his head to the side. That was unlike an assistant or a crime lord. They never spoke names in public.

  Something was fishy.

  “No names, especially in here.”

  The guy nodded. “Understood. Let’s go out back.”

  Ozzy touched his sidearm and nodded, making sure the guy saw where he had rested his hand.

  The man cocked his head, displaying his palms, telling Ozzy he had nothing to worry about. The guy had no weapons—that he was showing.

  “Come,” he said, motioning for Ozzy to follow.

  They walked past an open restroom. A woman was puking in the toilet, her friend holding her hair back.

  “Lovely,” said Ozzy.

  The man glanced over his shoulder. “What was that?”

  “Nothing.”

  The man led them to an alleyway. If it was dark outside instead of late morning, Ozzy might have a problem with this. But nothing out here screamed threat or caution. Plus, it was empty, and as far as Ozzy could tell, there was no place for murderers to hide and jump him.

  He unclipped his holster just in case.

  The door shut, and the man stared at Ozzy for several seconds before speaking. “Do you know Lyra No Tail?”

  Ozzy knew her well. How could he not? She was a crime boss who was half-cat, half-human from some star system Ozzy couldn’t remember by name. She had arrived in town five or six years ago and set up shop in Schroeter City, not too far from Dawes.

  He gave the man a nod.

  “Good,” the man said, the robot voice overly intense. “We have a job for you. She wants a blue kyanite crystal ankh from the asteroid belt.”

  Ozzy shifted on his feet and put his hand against the building’s red cement wall, leaning against it. “What is it with crime syndicates and these crystals?”

  “We are offering ten million auric credits.”

  Ozzy about swallowed his spit. “Done.” That’s all he needed. He’d get the auric money, and together with the money Jonas had already put in his auric wallet account, he’d buy the Eagle and be off to Europa with Lily in no time.

  No need to continue searching for the Ark of the Concordant. Yeah, Jonas would be pissed, but at least Ozzy would be alive and forego being bombarded by the coming Dunrakee invasion.

  He pictured the Class-14 Quadruple Engine Electrohydrodynamic Ionic Thruster 113 SX, the Eagle, in his mind, seeing the shiny interior, the large ionic boosters, the amount of energy fuel cells it could hold, and the many bedrooms it had.

  It was a flying mansion.

  “A dig for a crystal ankh would take a day,” Ozzy said. The crystals were scattered throughout the asteroid belt, yet they were seldom intact. He’d use the equipment on Relic to locate them while flying in the belt, and it shouldn’t take too long to find a perfect match for Lyra No Tail.

  “Are you sure it will only take a day?”

  “Actually, it depends. How much up front?”

  “Two million, and eight million when you’re done.”

  “Deal.”

  Ozzy extended his hand and yelled, “Whoa.”

  The guy wrenched Ozzy’s arm down, nearly yanking it out of its socket.

  An elbow came down on the back of his head, sending him to the ground.

  Ozzy grunted and winced in pain. “Hey!” Ozzy went to stand.

  A fist came crashing into his jaw, and Ozzy bucked back, flailing his arms to block more potential blows.

  He kicked his foot out, connecting with the guy’s leg.

  Ozzy straightened and curled his fingers into a fist, standing and readying for another attack.

  Too late.

  The guy was already in the air, spinning a kick and connecting the back of his boot against Ozzy’s temple.

  Ozzy’s knees buckled and he fell. The world spun, and he cupped the back of his neck with his hand as he shook his head, trying to gather his bearings.

  The masked man grasped Ozzy’s shirt and pulled him to a standing position. The guy pushed Ozzy into the wall, pressing his body weight into Ozzy.

  “You’re under arrest for violating excavation code nine and zero four zero under article seventeen.”

  “What?” blurted Ozzy. “Is this a joke?” Was he being pranked? If so, it was probably Jonas’s idea.

  A forearm went into his face.

  “Alright, alright.” Ozzy grimaced. “Who are you?”

  The guy pulled off his mask and helmet, tossing them on the concrete. “Dammit, Ozzy. You just don�
�t change, do you?”

  Jozi pushed her black hair out of her blue eyes. “I’m sorry, Ozzy. The High Judge put me up to this. I didn’t think you’d fall for it. But you son of a Mars. I guess, once a criminal, always a criminal.”

  The same could be said about Mars Ministry Police agents like her.

  “Listen, Jozi—”

  “No, you listen.” She brought his arms behind his back. Cold metal touched his wrists and clamped shut, cuffing him. “I hope you heard that.” She pulled Ozzy away from the wall. “You know, I told the High Judge that you would never go back to crime, and he laughed at me.” She shoved him into the wall harder this time. “You just made me look like an ass.”

  “Jozi, I have a reason for doing this. Now, uncuff me and I can explain.”

  “Explain it to the High Judge. I’ll try to get you a shorter prison sentence. You know, for curing the world of the Martian Plague and all.”

  “Wait,” complained Ozzy, his face contorting. “I was set up. You can’t do this.” He didn’t know if that was true, but he’d seen plenty of holomovies where police coerced criminals to do criminal activity and knew how the law worked in movie-land. Sometimes the criminals got off.

  That was unlikely the case in real life.

  She led him down the alleyway, holding his elbow. A hovercar drove by and slowed. The driver curiously watched before speeding off.

  “You have no proof of entrapment, and there aren’t any witnesses,” Jozi said.

  “You—”

  The back door swung open, breaking off its hinges, and slid across the asphalt.

  A woman barged through. She had long, pink hair with streaks of bright blue, and bright-red lipstick caked on lips. She wore black gloves and a tight, black outfit that shimmered in the light. A holster with a gun was at her hip, and two long knives were sheathed to her side.

  She pulled out the gun. “Don’t take another step,” the woman said in a smooth voice, similar to what Ozzy imagined a snake would sound like if it could talk.

  Jozi moved into action, taking her gun out and positioning herself in front of Ozzy. “I’m a crack shot.”

  “So am I,” replied the woman, standing her ground.

  That had to be Sonya Zeld, the archaeologist hired by Mort Wildly.

  Ozzy backed up.

  “Don’t move, Ozzy,” Jozi ordered, her gun and her eyes pinned directly on Zeld.

  Both women stood their ground and aimed at each other, neither one budging an inch.

  “What are you going to do, Agent?” Zeld said. “’Cause you ain’t pulling that trigger unless I pull mine first, and you’d be dead before your finger hit the trigger guard.”

  Jozi pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “I’ll say this once. Drop your weapon and I won’t drop you.”

  Zeld held fast, her lips tight and her posture rigid. “Can you just move a tiny bit to your right? You’re blocking Ozzy’s body.” She gave a wink.

  “Who are you?” Ozzy asked, his lips shaking with every syllable exiting his mouth. He knew he was a bit scared, but his body’s trembling indicated he was more scared than he realized.

  “I’m Sonya Zeld, Ozzy. You’ve been somewhat of a hero to me. I know all your digs. I know all of your glyphic translations. You’re a genius.”

  Ozzy couldn’t help but grin. He had a fan.

  “But, I’ll tell you what,” she continued, shifting her eyes to Jozi. “I’ll lower my weapon, and this pretty lady in front of you can go mano a mano with me. Sound fair?” Zeld slowly bent down and eyed Jozi carefully. She set her gun on the ground and stood, bringing her hands up into fists.

  Jozi lowered into a crouch and dropped her weapon.

  “Wait, what are you doing?” asked Ozzy, his mouth agape. They could just back up and run out of here now that Zeld didn’t have a weapon in her hand.

  Jozi cracked her knuckles, walking toward Zeld. “Trust me.” She took a few more steps forward and launched a front kick into Zeld’s stomach.

  Zeld lurched forward and caught Jozi’s foot and twisted.

  Jozi went with it and spun in the air, landing back on her feet. She kicked again, connecting with Zeld’s side.

  Zeld took it with ease and came down with a left hook. Jozi flung her arm up, blocking it, and jabbed, targeting Zeld’s nose.

  Zeld caught it, wrapped her leg over Jozi’s arm, and arched.

  Again, Jozi went with it, almost anticipating exactly what Zeld was going to do when she locked upon Jozi. Jozi stepped forward, flipping with the hold.

  Zeld lost her leverage and fell to the ground. She pushed back up quickly and dove into Jozi’s stomach, then slipped her leg behind Jozi’s ankles.

  Jozi tripped, landing on her back. Zeld went with the fall, curling up and shoving her shoulder into Jozi, smashing her once more into the ground.

  Jozi grunted and shot her legs up, practically tying them around Zeld’s head. She pulled her legs into herself, tucking them into her chest, taking Zeld with her, and rolled to the side.

  Zeld tumbled, smacking her head on the concrete. She rolled out of it and stood, her hands up, her legs slightly bent, ready to throw more punches and kicks.

  Blood trickled down Zeld’s temple. She touched it with her finger and looked at it. She growled and unsheathed her knives, baring her teeth.

  Ozzy took a step back and then a few more.

  Jozi put her finger up. “One second.” She bent down and picked up her gun. “Second over. Drop your weapons.”

  Zeld smiled. The blood dripped down her chin and onto her black, leathery shirt.

  Ozzy moved back more and more until he was at the end of the alleyway and onto a sidewalk.

  “Ozzy, get back here,” yelled Jozi, keeping her eyes deadpanned on Zeld.

  He took a step out of view and around the corner.

  “Ozzy,” Jozi bellowed.

  Ozzy took off, heading for Jonas’s compound where he knew he’d be safe. There, they could break the cuffs. After all, he was Jonas’s current investment, and Jonas didn’t like losing investments.

  Footsteps came pounding behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder. It was Jozi, running full speed, catching up to him.

  “No, you don’t, Ozzy.”

  He picked up his pace and raced across the road. A horn blared, and Ozzy spun away with his hands still behind his back, lightly nicking a hovercar with his arm.

  More horns filled the street when he made it to the other side of the sidewalk. He ran as fast as he could, moving toward Jonas’s house—a big, white mansion surrounded by tall cedars.

  He felt a hefty yank on his cuff chains, and his feet went out from under him. He slammed hard onto the sidewalk.

  “Oomph.” He exhaled sharply, losing his breath. A pain shot up his lower back, and his muscles weakened.

  Jozi’s foot came down on his chest, and he jerked like a defibrillator shocking him.

  He caught his breath and eyed Jozi’s angry face. “Did you kill her?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not about to violate more laws to save your stupid ass.”

  “Where is she?”

  A photon blast went off, and Jozi ducked. Ozzy rolled out of the way and to his feet, his butt throbbing.

  “Go, go, go,” demanded Jozi, pushing Ozzy toward a building, her outfit’s cape flapping from her quick movement.

  Another photon bolt expelled from somewhere, turning a small hedge from green into orange flames.

  Jozi pushed Ozzy behind a building. She leaned against a wall, holding up her gun. She took a peek around the corner and ducked back around. “She’s coming.”

  “She’s a terrible shot,” said Ozzy, panting and leaning against the wall as well.

  “Yeah, she’s almost as bad as you,” responded Jozi, moving around the corner and aiming her weapon. She ducked back around.

  “Shoot your damn gun.”

  “Too many bystanders running around like chickens with their heads cut off.”

  �
�What now?” Ozzy said.

  “To Jonas Moon’s house. He has hundreds of security guards, and that Zeld lady wouldn’t stand a chance if she tried to set foot on his land.”

  “I don’t know where that is.”

  “Oh bullshit. You were just there. I tracked you.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll lead you there if you are really that lost.”

  “He’ll kill you. He doesn’t like MMP agents.”

  Jozi pulled out her badge and dropped it on the ground. “He won’t know.” She kicked it under a bush and patted her outfit. “I’m not in an MMP uniform.” A photon bolt whizzed by them.

  “Then uncuff me, genius. If I go there with these cuffs on, he may think we were just playing some kinky game?”

  She pulled out her keys and uncuffed him. She bent down and proceeded to dig a hole in the soil where she pushed her badge, the cuffs, and the key inside, then covered it with dirt and loose leaves and branches.

  Ozzy unholstered his sidearm and crouched next to the edge of the building, taking a quick peek.

  Zeld was walking up the sidewalk, her gun outstretched, aiming it at Ozzy. She smiled and took a shot.

  Ozzy jerked behind the building. “She’s almost on top of us.” Ozzy peeked back around, took aim, and slipped his finger in his trigger guard, touching it.

  Jozi pushed the gun down, and an errant blast slammed into the sidewalk a meter in front of Ozzy. Chunks of red rock flew into the air, leaving a nasty divot.

  Ozzy ducked back. “What are you doing?”

  “You are not shooting when innocent people are around.” She grabbed his arm. “Let’s go.”

  They took off and curled around a domed house. They jumped over a fence and dashed through a yard full of moss and weeds and leaped over another fence.

  “Jonas’s house is up ahead.”

  “I see it.”

  Ozzy turned. Zeld was slowing down, talking to someone through her wrist band. She probably knew Jonas’s house and didn’t want to attempt to enter his premises.

  Smart move. She’d be dead before she could count to three.