by Kacey Ezell
“Not much to tell,” she said, her tone stiff. “I underestimated some of the mark’s security measures and paid the price. But his death appeared utterly natural, the client is pleased, and I am still alive.”
“Flame—”
“Do. Not.” Her voice cracked out like a whip. “I am not a kitten. Small I may be, but since Dama’s semi-retirement, I’ve earned more credits for this clan than any of us. It was just a mistake. One I won’t make again.”
“All right,” he said. “It’s just that we love you, littlest sister.”
“I know. I love you all too.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence broken only by the occasional muffled grunts that Flame made. Despite his worry for her, Deluge was impressed. She hadn’t given any indication that she was in such pain during the gathering. Only now, when he was her only witness, would she allow her weakness to be known.
He was about half a heartbeat from picking her up and dealing with the consequences of her wounded pride when they reached the door to the infirmary complex. Healer Jhora looked up from a slate as she walked in.
“I greet you, Hunter of hurts,” Flame said, a little breathless. “And I’m happy to say that I’ve brought you some of your prey.”
“I greet you, lethal one,” Jhora said. “I would thank you, but I do not enjoy seeing my patients injured. Can you jump to the table?”
Perhaps she could have, but Deluge didn’t give her the chance. Heedless of her pride, he rose to his back feet and scooped his sister-kita up in his arms. He felt her body tense, and so he deposited her on Jhora’s examination and treatment table as quickly as he could and then backed away before her claws and fangs could make her displeasure known.
“I’m helping!” he said, giving both females his widest, most charming grin when they separately pinned him with their icy stares.
“Thank you for your help, Del,” Jhora said, her voice soaked in sarcasm. “Perhaps you can help yourself out of my infirmary?”
“No. Wait, please,” Flame said, struggling to push herself to a seated position. Jhora murmured something that Deluge didn’t hear and reached out to stroke the back of Flame’s neck. The injured Hunter ignored the healer and stared at her brother-kit. “I will get you for that, Del. But stay. I have something to discuss with you.”
“Of course, littlest,” he said, and rose to his back feet to touch his chest in a gesture of love. “Whatever you need. You know that.”
“Fine,” Jhora said. “But don’t be in my way.”
“I wouldn’t dare, Healer.”
The older Hunter-of-hurts let out a kind of harrumph and turned away from the table to gather the tools of her trade. Flame reached out a paw and beckoned him closer. When he hesitated, she sighed and renewed her motions with more vigor.
“I’m serious, Del,” she said. “This is not a ploy to get back at you. You know I’m subtler than that.”
“You are,” he conceded and shrugged. With Flame, it was not a question of whether she would get her revenge, it was just a question of when and how. He accepted his eventual fate and walked close enough to touch her paw with his own.
“I need some help,” she said, her voice close to a whisper. Something twisted painfully inside Deluge. She must really be hurt. Flame never asked for help.
“Anything,” he said, his tone deadly serious.
“I accepted another contract to be accomplished after this one, but Blade is right. I will need time to recuperate.” she twitched her ears in a shrug. “Extending it for too long will draw out the client’s suffering.”
“Who’s the client?” Deluge asked.
“The second-in-command of a Lumar mercenary company.”
“Lumar?”
“Veetanho.”
“Ah. And the mark?”
“Her sister. The commander.”
Deluge narrowed his eyes and attempted to think this through.
“Why would a Veetanho mercenary with a company of Lumar at her bidding take out a contract on her sister? Even if the mark is her superior officer, it seems easier to just do it herself. It’s not as if she wouldn’t have the combat skills.”
“I gather that the commander is impressive in single combat, and that she’s a sadistic wastrel of lives as a merc commander. She seems to enjoy watching the Lumar under her command get chewed to pieces by overwhelming firepower, and takes contracts that support that.”
“Well, the Lumar aren’t known for their mental prowess—”
“Exactly! But the Veetanho are. And yet this company continues to bleed and bleed with no surcease. It’s just…wasteful.”
Ah. There it was. Flame was passionate in her convictions, and though she was an excellent and lethal Hunter, like many Hunters she found wholesale slaughter only acceptable if done in pursuit of some objective. Any objective would do. But to just waste lives felt…dirty to her. Deluge knew that, because he felt the same.
“All right, littlest,” he said, slow blinking. “I’ll do it, on one condition?”
“What’s that?”
“Well, two conditions. One, that you obey Jhora’s instructions to the letter, and you let yourself fully heal. I don’t like listening to you stifle whimpers while you’re simply trying to walk.”
“Done,” Flame said. “And the second?”
“That you hold your revenge until after I return.” He stretched his mouth wide in a Human-style grin and had the pleasure of seeing her slow blink a laugh in response.
“Very well,” she said. “But the second the contract is marked fulfilled on the ‘net, your amnesty ends.”
“I would expect nothing less,” he said. Then he bent to rub his cheekbone against hers as Jhora returned to the table, her forearms full of instruments and slates. “Now rest and heal. We’ve made a deal.”
“So we have,” she said. Her eyes started to close as Jhora injected something into her system. “I thank you, Del.”
“Anytime, littlest, anytime.”
* * *
Deluge didn’t go down to the feast after all. Flame’s description of the contract made it clear further delay would only exacerbate the hideous waste of the Lumar mercenaries’ lives. It was important enough that she asked him for help. Therefore, it was important enough for him to move on it immediately.
Instead of the dining room, he followed the twisting hallways back to his quarters. The door slid open at his approach, revealing his luggage stacked neatly in the center of the room. One of the family’s contractors had brought it in while he’d been busy with the gathering and Flame, as he’d expected. The Night Wind clan’s contractors were very good at that sort of thing. Details were managed, and one never need concern oneself with how.
It was one of the things he always appreciated about being home.
Of course, one of the things he appreciated about not being home was the opportunity for fun and adventure, and this contract should provide plenty of both. Which reminded him, he needed some details.
“Please send Susa to my room at her earliest convenience,” he said aloud. The lights flashed, indicating the voice-recognition software had accepted his instructions and would send the message.
“And ask her to bring some of the food from the feast,” he added when his stomach let out a gurgle. Another flash of the lights. Good enough.
Now to unpack. Or was it re-pack?
As far as luggage went, he didn’t really have much. A spare harness or two, a compact emergency nanomedicine kit, some physical credits…but mostly it was weapons of all kinds and shapes. Chemically fired projectile guns, energy pistols and rifles. Explosives, small and large. Vials and vials of poisons and antidotes. Fourteen different gauges of garrote wire, enough to cut off the breathing apparatus of about 90% of the species in the galaxy. Intense portable light sources that would burn the synapses of some of the dark-adapted species. Even a few live, incredibly venomous species of various small lifeforms he kept in carefully-protected carriers.
&
nbsp; And blades. Everything from a needle-like poniard to a knife as long as his foreleg. One never knew when one was going to need a good edge. Claws would often do in a pinch, but blades were…
…well, they were fun.
“Quite a collection.”
He’d been expecting Susa, so Deluge hadn’t flinched when the door to his quarters slid open. But it was Reow’s voice that preceded her lithe form into his small quarters. Deluge put down the throwing knife he’d been cleaning and padded over to greet her properly.
“I thought you would still be at the feast, Dama,” he said.
“I thought you would have attended. But you were looking after Flame?”
“I was. I apologize if you missed my presence.”
“We missed you, but there is no need for apology. I taught you four to care for one another. I am glad to see my lessons were well received.” Reow arched her back and stretched, then padded over to hop up to his sleeping ledge. “Blade told me about Flame’s contract. You are taking it in her stead?”
“I am. It is important to her, and it seems like a fun, lucrative venture.”
“Good. Susa also told me about your encounter with the Besquith traders in the capitol,” Reow said as she curled herself into a ball and watched him from above.
Deluge picked up the knife again, interpreting her actions as permission to get on with his packing.
“Did I do wrongly, Dama?” he asked.
“Did you?”
“Not in my judgment. Perhaps I stretched the limits of the law a bit, but she was a mother trying to protect her wayward child. I knew she would get him off world as soon as possible.”
Reow looked at him for a long moment, her motionless ears and tail giving no clue as to her inner thoughts on the matter. Deluge forced himself to finish wrapping the throwing knife and put it into his case. His unconcern over the situation began to fray under Reow’s relentless regard. He wondered if she would say more, but she eventually twitched her ears and blinked slowly, causing him to feel a surge of relief.
“Very well. It was lucrative, at least. Well done in that. And now you will take your sister-kita’s contract. Be wary, my kit. Remember your lessons.”
“Always, Dama,” he promised.
She slow blinked again, and Deluge’s earlier relief warmed into the glow of certainty. His dama loved him, and she was pleased with him. All was right with the world.
“Now, tell me, my rash one. What do you think of the contract I have been offered?”
“To be Peacemaker? Well, it is certainly prestigious, Dama, you can’t argue that.”
“No.”
“And it would be lucrative.” She had liked that about the Besquith affair. Reow had never been shy about her desire to amass great wealth. It was what allowed her to build her Clan. Hunting for riches was both necessary and honorable. She had taught them that.
“It would.”
“Then I think you should do it, Dama. Because it sounds like fun.”
Reow blinked again, ears twitching, and then let out a Human-style laugh.
“That is your driving concern, isn’t it, my brash one? Will something be fun?”
“Well, it is certainly not outside of your capabilities,” Deluge said. Though he kept his tone light, he wondered if he should feel insulted. “And it is honorable work for a Hunter such as yourself. It will bring much prestige to our small clan…I do not see why fun shouldn’t be a consideration alongside those things.”
Reow rose to her feet and leapt down from the sleeping ledge in one fluid motion. She took a single step toward her son and rubbed her cheekbone lovingly against his.
“And that is what I love most about you, my Deluge. I thank you for your counsel, and I wish you good hunting.”
“Good hunting to you, too, Dama.” Deluge said, pressing into her. “I will come find you on your Peacekeeper business after my contract is completed.”
“I hope that you will,” she said. Then she gave him a playful swat and sauntered out of the room as silently as she’d entered.
* * *
Deluge had just finished packing when a chime announced he had another visitor.
“Enter,” he said, and slow blinked a smile as the door slid up into the ceiling. “Susa. I though you would come sooner.”
“Dama wished to speak with you first,” the Human woman said, stepping inside his room. Though she had none of Reow’s liquescence, there was still a kind of heavy grace in the way Susa moved. Deluge had not had much opportunity to observe other Humans. He wondered how his molly’s movements compared to that of a Human merc, for example.
“I am almost ready to go,” he said, sitting down on the floor next to his packed luggage. “Flame said you had most of the information on the contract.”
“I do, and I’ve uploaded it to your ship,” Susa said. “You will get the full intelligence briefing as soon as you link in, but the short version is this: a Lumar mercenary company is being mistreated by its Veetanho commander, and the second-in-command is loath to take her on directly.”
“Seems cowardly,” Deluge said.
“Or smart, if she knows she can’t win,” Susa said.
“Or that,” Deluge said, slow blinking as he conceded the point. “Flame told me this. What else is there?”
“You’ll be traveling to ‘Tlor, the Lumar home world,” she said, articulating the glottal stop at the beginning of the world. Sounds like that were difficult for Hunters to pronounce, and Deluge found himself distracted by the name for a moment or two.
“…are you listening, Del?”
“What? Yes! …What were you saying?”
Susa snorted and shook her head.
“I was saying the trip to the Praf region will give you time to study the details of the contract. It may prove useful in this case.”
“Why? Was something out of order about the contract?”
“Flame didn’t think so,” Susa said, “But when I watched the vid of it, there was something that seemed off to me. Nothing I can put my finger on. And certainly nothing you can’t handle,” she added with her wide, Human smile.
Deluge twitched his ears in response.
“But you tell me this as a warning.”
“I do. Because I love you, and if you are warned, you will be on your guard for surprises.”
“And so I will,” he said. And then, because he loved her too, Deluge got up and leapt into Susa’s lap. Once again, she cuddled him close and stroked his fur as she’d done when he was a kitten.
Deluge had never been one for depriving himself of comfort. He was tough enough to cope with spartan conditions. He’d done it and proved that fact to himself. But that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. To him, self-denial for no good reason seemed as useful as cutting his flesh so he could practice bleeding…that is to say, not at all.
So he snuggled himself close to Susa’s soft warmth and let the scent of her skin wrap around him. He had no reason to think the contract would keep him away for long, but that was no reason not to revel in the feeling of home while he could.
She squeezed him tight and then gave him her habitual little toss. As he had always done, he turned it into a leap and landed lightly on four feet before turning back to her.
“You should get going,” she said, “Dama has said for you to take Iora.”
Deluge’s body stiffened in surprise. Iora was the name of the fastest ship owned by the clan. Reow had named her after her old molly, saying that Iora was the epitome of grace, and so was the little ship. He had his own ship, of course, but it wasn’t anywhere near as sleek or powerful as Iora. Susa smiled at his reaction.
“Dama thinks that she will not have much of a chance to use her in the coming season,” the Human clarified. “She will take Sarru to her investiture as Peacemaker, as it is likely she will need the space and grav-ring of the larger ship.”
“That makes sense,” Deluge said, his eagerness growing. Susa laughed again.
“Of course i
t makes sense to you,” she said. “You would agree with anything just to be able to take Iora out. Be careful with her, Del. She’s a lot of starship rolled up in a very pretty package.”
“I’m always careful, Susa,” he said. And when she snorted to show her opinion of that statement, he dropped his jaw to grin at her in the Human style. “I am!”
“Yes. Well. See that you are. We love you, Del. Come home safely.”
“I love you too,” he said. She gave him another smile and then turned and left. He looked after her for a moment, wondering what about this contract had made the usually imperturbable Susa nervous.
* * *
Deluge didn’t wait for dusk. He left as the sun rode high above the canopy, which meant the green half-light under the leaves was slightly brighter and greener as he exited the den. He took the same path he’d used upon arrival, but instead of veering toward the suborbital station, he continued straight through the thickening jungle until he reached a long, narrow clearing on top of the ridge.
The minute he stepped into the sunlight, his goggles extended and covered his eyes with dark lenses. He blinked to readjust his vision and stretched out with his quintessential senses. A faint ripple under his skin told him the aerial disguise mesh was in place, bending the light so that the clearing would disappear from baryonic detection. Visual or electronic scans from either orbit or atmosphere would show unbroken canopy, ensuring only Hunters could find the clearing with the clan’s smaller ships. The largest one, the luxury star yacht, resided in orbit.
Deluge liked the smaller craft better anyway. The sleek lines of the ships looked sexy and fun. Plus, the act of piloting them tended to be more immediate, more visceral. He could feel the movement of a little corvette as he flew it. The star yacht didn’t give that kind of feedback, luxe though it was.
And he was going to fly Iora. Anticipation tangled with joy and fluttered through his system as he caught sight of her tailfin flash. The ridge supervisor perked his ears up and walked over as Deluge approached the launch cradle where Iora stood ready.
“I greet you, Choking Deluge,” the aging Hunter said. He slow blinked and stood up on his muscular back legs, his front paw out in a friendly gesture of welcome.