Mimbres (Heroes of the League Book 9)

Home > Nonfiction > Mimbres (Heroes of the League Book 9) > Page 6
Mimbres (Heroes of the League Book 9) Page 6

by Frank Carey


  "Is that a joke? Really? You can joke at a time like this?"

  "Yes. Xura, I really don't want you to die with me. Maybe the council will accept an apology or something?"

  She gently cuffed him. "Sorry, but you're stuck with me."

  "A guy can hope," he said while gently picking her up. "Let's go do this."

  ###

  Half-carrying Xura, Harm scanned the room beyond the doorway, looking for Nochmar. "He's still on the other side of the station," Harm said as they entered the room.

  On the floor were the bodies of Thia and the two guards. Harm sat Xura down against a wall opposite the door before checking the bodies and weapons. Unfortunately, the ones he found were completely drained. Seeing Xura was OK to be left alone for a moment, Harm ran over to the control console and retrieved the detonator. He checked the unit carefully before pressing the button twice. A light on the device's face began to flash.

  Harm walked back to his friend and knelt down beside her. "I've armed the unit. One press of the button and this place turns into a small star," he said, brushing her hair out of her face. "We’ve got a few minutes before His Grotesqueness arrives. Whom do I talk to about getting you out of here?"

  "The Council Elder, but he won’t talk to you. He’s pissed at me something fierce and has made it clear my services are no longer needed.

  "Then he is a moron. I can’t understand how someone so obviously stupid was put into a position with so much responsibility," Harm continued as he watched the scanner. He was running out of time.”

  "Harmon, no..."

  “Please, continue Mr. Aymar.”

  “Harm looked over his shoulder and saw a tall weresheep in a toga standing behind him.

  “Are you the asshole responsible for keeping her here?” Harm said as he stood up to face the toga-clad being.

  “Yes, I guess I am.”

  “Take her back into the fold.”

  “She meddled in your life.”

  “She returned my life to what it was supposed to be. By the way, it’s my damn plarking life, so take her back.”

  The weresheep tilted his head and smiled. “OK,” he said as he disappeared. Harm turned back to find Xura gone.

  "Thank you," he whispered while walking to the console and flipping the intercom switch. "Gen. Nochmar! This is Prince Lucien Irithyl. I'm waiting in your cryotube chamber with several pints of fresh, hot, pure, royal elf blood. Come and get it." He flipped the switch off and waited.

  In less time than it takes to drink a cup of tea, a figure appeared in the doorway. It was massive and hideously deformed. It stood there and sniffed the air like a predator searching for its prey.

  "Ah, a fine aroma you have, elf. I shall enjoy the repast you are about to serve me." Nochmar rumbled as it stepped into the room.

  "Let me guess, you're going to bore me to death with all the poetic prose you're about to spew," Harmon said as he stood near the center of the room. He knew he had to get Nochmar near him before tripping the furnace.

  "How dare you, elf!" the thing yelled as it advanced into the room. "I am Gen. Nochmar, the greatest elf that ever lived!"

  "All I see is a genetic experiment gone horribly wrong," Harm replied, baiting the monstrosity.

  "Who are you to say this to me?" Nochmar asked as he took another step forward.

  “I am Harmon Aymar, smuggler and hacker. I am also Prince Lucien, but that is just a title. I am no more a prince than you are the greatest of elves. You are nothing more than a waste of oxygen. You destroyed Atlantis, killing millions. You, Mon Général, are nothing more than an abomination.”

  Moving faster than Harmon thought possible; Nochmar was on him, batting the remote out of Harm’s hand while lifting the elf by the throat and slamming him into a wall. The remote, meanwhile, slid across the room to stop against the far wall, out of Harm’s reach.

  “Foolish elf. Did you think I did not know about the self-destruct system? I found out about it when I drained Thia and his minions. While you wasted your time trying to save the Inspector, I was exploring my prison.”

  “Find anything useful, like maybe some deodorant?” Harm choked out.

  “Humor in the face of imminent death. I will enjoy draining you. Then when I am finished, I will take the emergency shuttle stored in the lower level and use it to return to our universe where I will retake my throne.”

  “My family is destroying the gate as we speak. We’re trapped here,” Harm said with a sneer.

  “Gate? That old thing? My jailers built a shuttle with its own gate generator in case the stone one failed. You don’t get it, do you, sonny? I was a general for hundreds of years, so don’t try to teach me to suck eggs. My captors made the mistake of underestimating me. I killed them all, then sat back in my stasis chamber, waiting for just the right time to return, and it is now that time—“

  “Hey! Butt-ugly! Forget something?”

  Nochmar dropped Harmon and turned to face the source of the voice. “Inspector, welcome back. Forget something?” he said as he took a step toward Xura, who stood there still in her bloodstained camos.

  “Xura! Get the plark out of here,” Harmon choked-out as he looked around for the remote. He barely got to his feet in time to see her holding it in front of her, its light continuing to blink.

  “Looking for this?” she said as she slid her finger over the detonator button.

  Nochmar stopped. “Inspector, let’s be reasonable. Shut that thing off, and I’ll give you riches beyond the dreams of avarice. You’ll be my queen…”

  “Xura, for gods’ sake, push the damn button!” Harm yelled, any thought of saving himself or her overridden by the need to save his family, his universe.

  Xura looked at him. Slowly, she tilted her head and smiled. “Damn, Elf, that is a wonderful idea,” she said as she pushed the button.

  Nochmar screamed in rage.

  The universe exploded.

  ###

  "Captain, there's a massive energy buildup at the prison!" the helmsman reported.

  "View aft!" Kestra ordered.

  The image shifted to the prison, getting smaller as it receded into the distance. They watched as the structure was replaced by a ball of blinding white light. When the viewer cleared, they saw only an expanding cloud of debris where the prison once was.

  No one spoke. They just stared at the screen.

  “Comm, signal the Mariposa. Best possible speed to the portal.”

  “Aye, ma’am. Captain, incoming message from the League task force. They’ve detected the explosion. They’re requesting a status report.”

  “I’ve got this,” Ciara said, wiping her eyes. “Can I use your office?”

  Kestra nodded to Rock who showed the director the way.

  The two ships made their way silently to the portal and home.

  Chapter Eleven

  Marta stared at the Mariposa, wondering what the hell just happened. Just a few days ago, she and Team One were on a mission while her husband and child were safe back at home. Now, her husband was dead and her child traumatized. “When is this shit going to end?” she asked aloud to an empty hangar.

  “My feelings exactly,” Harm said as he walked over to stand next to her. He looked down and saw a blaster wavering inches from his nose.

  “You’re alive!?” she said, holstering her weapon. She jumped up and hugged him before he could reply.

  He looked her in the eye and smiled. “Yep. Don’t know why; don’t know how. The last thing I remember was Xura holding up the remote detonator and pressing the button. Next thing I know, I’m standing behind you. How long have I been gone?”

  She slid down, but still held his hand. “A couple of days.”

  “What did they do about the portal?”

  “Engineers found and removed the control node which activates the gate. It is now safely stored in one of the Cube’s containment tombs.

  Harm put his arm around his wife. “You know I had to stay behind and deal with t
he general, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I know. I’m not mad; I’m proud of you.”

  He kissed her. “Before this crisis, I talked to Ciara and she agreed it’s time for me to retire from active duty, so to speak.”

  “Huh?”

  “I got a lab job at the cube developing new suits and robots,” he informed her.

  “Like Gloria and John?”

  “Sorta, but much less princess. I’m allergic to unicorns and glitter.”

  “You, Harmon Aymar, the Smuggler Elf, retiring?”

  He nodded. “And to that end, I want to propose something radical for you, me, and Aerith.”

  “Radical?”

  “Yes, Radical. I want to adopt.”

  Marta’s jaw dropped. “Adopt what? A dog? A cat? A wombat?

  “Children,” he said

  “Children. I see. Why don’t we have a few more of our own?”

  He looked at her and shook his head. “The drugs Muntz’s crew gave me have made that impossible. Losi got the test results back right after you went on deployment.” I’m sorry.”

  She hugged him. “Don’t be. We have Aerith. So, adopt a child. I like the idea.”

  “Actually, four of them. I’ve got the details back in our quarters.”

  “You know, we have to tell people you have returned from the grave.”

  “Yes, there is that. When is my funeral scheduled?”

  “Harm!” she said, cuffing him in shock.

  “It was just a thought,” he said as she led him off the hanger deck and into the Cube where the rest of his family waited.

  <<<<>>>>

  About Frank Carey

  Frank Carey has been formally writing and publishing works of science fiction since late 2013. Over the years prior, he had dabbled in various forms of writing including haiku poetry, but that all changed when he and his wife, Jo, decided to try their hand at writing and self-publishing. All his work, to date, has been in the science fiction genre.

  Most of his stories take place about two centuries in the future when Earth joins the League of Planetary Systems. Many of his protagonists are strong females. He is an inveterate pantser who believes the story will go where the story wants to go.

  Frank’s background includes degrees in physics and extensive work as a scientific programmer and technologist.

  Frank and his wife produce a podcast—Xtreme Self-Publishing—which details their self-publishing efforts.

  Frank can be reached through his podcast at xtremeselfpublishing.podbean.com or via e-mail at [email protected] or [email protected]

 

 

 


‹ Prev