by Eve Langlais
Too late he realized what he’d said. Especially since her lips curved. “Don’t tell me you actually left it on the ship. Not that it matters.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Ursy was released.”
“Yes, but only so she could give us access to her ship. The lock wouldn’t cooperate.” Lylyth scowled.
“You sent an ambush?” He tried not to react. Ursy could handle it, but she’d be angry.
“Why, Wulff, don’t tell me you care for that aggressive female? I didn’t take you for that type.” She eyed him.
He could have used a shower after.
“I don’t have any of Snype’s gears, nor do I know where to find any.”
“Liar!” Lylyth barked. “You have one. I know it. Show me.”
Not likely, given he wouldn’t put it past her to have that limb amputated.
“If you want one so badly, then why didn’t you keep the one you had?”
“I should have.” She paced. “I thought about cutting myself and putting it in my body. But what of my reincarnation? These bodies”—she glanced down at her frame—“they wear out too quickly. I cannot move the gears from one body to the next, which means I would need many of them.”
“They won’t work for you.”
“Won’t they?” She eyed him through the bars. “I have to wonder if perhaps your kind has been lying.”
“Go ahead and try inserting a cog inside yourself. The last being that tried that, died.” He didn’t mention it was from the blast of his gun. The bible made a clear point about not letting infidels own gears.
With a swing to her hips, Lylyth approached the bars. “I am still miffed you shot me. I thought you and I had a special understanding.”
Once, he’d gotten drunk enough to sleep with her. He’d left the encounter feeling…odd. Disconnected. Which, given he’d screwed the equivalent of a sex doll, made sense.
“I thought we did, too, and then you went and sold me out.”
“Only because I planned to make a deal with you.” She pursed her lips in a pout. “We could have been partners. We still can be.”
“I’m scheduled to be executed for your death.”
“I can have the charges dropped.”
“I might be willing, but you’d have to call off the attack on Ursy.”
“Look at you protecting her. I’m impressed. But are you really prepared to give your life for hers?”
Good question. He used the most obvious excuse. “I’m friends with her brother.”
“You fight like lovers.”
“I wish. At least if we were having sex, then the sparring would be worth it.”
“Feeling unwanted?” She sidled closer to the electric bars.
“A little. I’d hoped after we concluded our business to indulge in a bit of pleasure.”
“I’m sure something could be arranged. Agree to work with me and I can get you out of here.”
“Doing?”
“Me…” Said on a sultry purr. “But also I want in on your gear hunting. Give me a fifty percent cut of the proceeds.”
“Fifty? But I’ll be doing all the work.”
“You’ll be alive to perform it.”
“If we’re going to be partners, then I should probably tell you that I lied before. I did have a gear, but I took it unto myself,” he admitted, flashing the pad of his thumb and the barely visible metal peeking from it. It wouldn’t be long before the piece was completely absorbed.
“It’s so tiny.”
“Not what you said last time,” he drawled with a wink. “Give me a knife and I’ll pry it out. I was hiding it from the guards.”
“Let me see.”
“You want it, come and get it,” he taunted.
He could see her thinking about it. Gnawing on her lower lip, a calculating gaze trying to judge the risk.
“There are cameras watching.”
“And?”
“If you attack me, someone will see.”
“Why would I attack when you obviously hold all the cogs? And besides, I thought we had a deal, partner.”
She pressed her hand against the pad controlling his cell. No surprise that the only brothel owner in the market—making her possibly the most powerful person on this space station—had access.
The bars disappeared, and Lylyth entered in her new body. Greed overriding common sense. Making the mistake of thinking him unarmed and of no threat.
Which played to his advantage.
When she got close enough, he killed her again.
7
“Don’t ever waste your time on regret. Move on and don’t look back.” – Today’s Modern Female Siyborgh
To Ursy’s confusion, while guards marched off Wulff for the murder of Lylyth, they were actually setting her free. It baffled.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t be arrested with him?” she queried her many-armed escort.
The alien explained. “Arresting customers goes contrary to our business mandate.”
“Wulff’s a client, too,” she pointed out.
“His buying privilege has been revoked.”
The guard only walked her as far as the arm to her ship before scurrying off, leaving her to wander the hall alone. Like completely alone. Not a single being roamed its length, and yet the gear in her nape began to spin faster.
Danger.
She could feel it.
Danger.
From where?
Not her ship. The lock she used was intricate enough to stymie even the most skilled of lock-pickers. The hatch remained intact as well, no sign of it being forced open.
Danger.
At her back, she heard a whoosh as the door across from her—where a pleasure yacht docked—opened.
Instinct made her duck. The blast, probably meant to stun, went harmlessly overhead. She, on the other hand, wouldn’t miss. Whirling, she drew a knife from her sleeve and threw. She was still moving as it hit its target, leaping and using the wall to flip herself in the air, dodging the laser fire of her other attackers.
Mid air, she pulled her blaster and inwardly cursed at its low power meter. She still managed to fire off a few shots. Three down. Too many hired mercenaries left, crowding behind the bodies piling up.
She hit the ground and rolled. The next blast of the energy weapon from a guard missed her. She didn’t.
Flipping to her feet, she downed two more before her weapon died. She dove, and the next shot narrowly missed her.
A handspring had her soaring toward the last attacker. Scissoring her legs, she tossed him to the ground and pounced on him. The mixed-race guard—half purple, half something rodent—twitched his nose at her.
“Who sent you?” she asked, pressing the muzzle of the gun she’d filched under his chin.
“Lylyth.” He didn’t even pretend at loyalty. Probably wasn’t paid enough.
“She’s dead.”
He shook his head. “No. She’s not.”
“Impossible. I saw her shot myself.”
“Metal-part slut,” someone behind her slurred, one of the mercs not dead after all.
She whirled and fired, but in the process, the fellow under her wiggled free. She shot him in the back lest he raise an alarm. Then sighed.
She dragged the bodies one by one into the still open door of the yacht, sealing it shut only after she’d cleared the hall. It surprised her no one sounded an alarm, though she’d not seen a spy drone since the ambush. Perhaps Lylyth had arranged for a blind spot in the surveillance for her poor excuses for mercenaries.
It bugged her that the guard said Lylyth wasn’t dead. After all, that was the excuse used to arrest Wulff.
She turned to the hatch of her ship. It would be easy to leave right now. She’d warned him she wouldn’t stick around for him. He’d gotten himself in trouble.
Tell that to her hands, which, when she re-entered the yacht, stripped the smallest soldier. Then her feet had her heading back down the hall, hoping the goggles and the he
lmet hid her face. The uniform, large on her frame and odorous, gave her the appearance she needed to infiltrate the inner heart of the space station.
The hand she’d carved from the guard’s body gave her biometric access when she slapped it on the appropriate touch pads. Kind of gross, but it wasn’t as if he needed it anymore.
Idiot. Attacking her? Did no one know of her reputation? Being a female meant working twice as hard to get beings to fear her. So unfair.
Her grumpy mien caught the attention of a guard exiting the area. He dared to say, “I don’t recognize you.”
“I don’t have time for this.” She shot him and dragged his body behind the counter before she continued on.
Entering the detainment area, she had to be more careful. Whipping out a severed appendage might get her noticed. With her helmet hiding her appearance, and her own clothes under the uniform bulking it, no one gave her a second glance. Why would they?
Most people avoided those enforcing the rules. They didn’t go invading their headquarters. Which made her wonder why the frukx she was risking herself like this. Wulff was the one who got himself in trouble. His problem, not hers.
Yet she could hear Zak now, nattering about “Leave no friend behind.” Besides, if she saved him, then she could totally rub his face in it. He’d owe her his life.
Maybe she’d demand payment.
Another kiss…
The very thought brought a tingle to her lips. She still couldn’t believe he’d dared to embrace her. Did he enjoy it? Because she surely had. Not that it would happen again. He totally wasn’t her type. For one thing, he thought he could have a say in things.
There was only room for one bossy person in Ursy’s life. Which ignored the fact they’d been traveling for a while now without any real problem. If she didn’t mind being sexually deprived.
Slipping into the detainment block, making it through the door with another guard leading the way, she could have cursed when she noticed yet another employee bent over behind a desk. Probably put in place to keep track of everyone who wanted access to the detainees.
Keeping close to the guard she’d followed in, she hoped the one working the reception area would assume they were together. In case he didn’t, she had her fingers on the hilt of her weapon.
The body in front of her dropped to the ground, jiggling, and she stared at the voltage-charged baton pointing at her.
“Don’t zap, it’s me!” she hollered, reaching for her helmet.
Wulff, looking constrained by the ill-fitting uniform he wore, grinned. “Good thing you said something. I almost made you dance the Electric Volt.”
“How did you escape your cell?”
He shrugged. “Inept visitor.”
More like the lucky Siyborgh had a specialty cog.
“We should get out before someone sounds an alarm.”
A whooping siren went off, and he snorted. “Way to jinx us.”
“Let’s go.” She led the way, but he passed her, jamming a helmet on his head.
He almost jogged right into the door. Which didn’t open. “Frukx. I need—”
She slapped the severed hand on it.
“—to not peeve you off. How did you get… Never mind. I don’t need to know. Let’s go.”
They slipped into a hall, the sirens wailing, sending the few folks in the section scurrying. Ursy had her weapon pointed, only no one seemed to notice them. They moved in the direction of her ship, only to pause as a squad of guards came trotting their way.
They hugged the wall, wanting something at their backs, only to gape as the guards kept jogging.
“Where are they going?” she wondered.
Wulff just had to know. Seeing a fellow struggling to put helmets on his five heads he strode over and casually asked, “Is this another frukxn’ drill?”
“No. Apparently there’s been a theft.”
“Since when do we get mobilized for theft?” Wulff chatted amiably while Ursy stood ready to shoot the moment the other guard realized they were fakes.
The many-headed alien finally stopped fumbling. “Haven’t you been listening to orders?” Then his eyes widened, and he gasped, “Intruder!” She knocked him out with a paralyzing blast from her weapon.
“You didn’t kill him. I’m impressed,” Wulff exclaimed, staring down at the drooling body.
“He’s just a stupid young’un who had the misfortune of meeting you.”
“Wonder what was stolen that was so important they’re all racing around,” Wulff mused aloud.
“Who cares? It’s giving us the cover we need.” Only after they’d weaved their way out of the detainment center and reached the radial arm leading to their docking berth did he say, “You came to rescue me.”
“Someone had to.”
“In case you didn’t notice, I saved myself. Which you knew would happen, yet you came anyhow.”
“Zak would have been annoyed if I hadn’t.”
“So you did it for your brother?”
She took off her helmet and shook out her hair in front of the door leading to the docking tunnel. “What other reason would I have?” Certainly not because she’d miss him.
Not one bit.
Ugh. She hated having him around.
“Halt!” a voice yelled. “Or we’ll shoot.”
“Idiots,” she muttered, leaning around Wulff and firing first. While she had her weapon set to stun, the guard she hit reeled back onto the sword of his companion.
“Now we’re both on the naughty list for the Obsidian Market,” Wulff remarked as they bolted through the tunnel.
“Their goods are overpriced anyhow.”
The whoop of the siren followed, but oddly enough, the guards didn’t. Probably because a rumble shook the station.
Rumbles of any kind in space were a bad thing. A very, very bad thing. Especially when followed with a message blasted over the loudspeakers, “Evacuate.” Said only once in a language she recognized then repeated in every other language in existence.
“We need to get out of here,” Wulff declared grimly as the floor underfoot vibrated.
“Understatement of the day.”
No sooner had she unlocked and entered her ship than she bolted for the cockpit, hollering, “Seal us up and unclamp us from the dock.”
Ursy trusted Wulff to handle that while she stoked the belly of her furnace, throwing in a few small chunks of wawva, alien excrement farmed on the Moovini planet, which burned super hot and would give them all the power they needed to chug away.
Wulff charged into the cockpit, halting at the sight of the shutters. “Did they fix it?”
“I haven’t had a chance to check,” she grumbled. She bent over the game board, the many moving pieces on it hard to keep track of. Theirs wasn’t the only ship suddenly deciding to leave the market.
“Any signs of pursuit?”
“How am I supposed to tell?” she snapped. For all she knew, another ship had their guns trained on them at that very moment.
“I’ll check the portholes.” He ran back into the body of the zeppelin while she did her best to weave among the erratic blobs of vessels. She had almost cleared them when a shock wave hit, grabbing the Unicorn Bandit and thrusting her forward with a force that slammed Ursy into the console. Only the fast movement of her hands broke the impact, barely saving her from a broken nose.
From the back, Wulff hollered, “The frukxing market exploded.”
“Good.”
“Not good,” he stated, stomping into the cockpit. “Zak and Ray were inside.
The statement froze her but only for a second. “My brother’s alive.”
“How can you tell?”
She shrugged. “It’s a twin thing.” And a gear one. Twins, being rare, split their first gear. It took a talented Tinqqer to create a Mecha part that could become two. But they paid the price and always had a vague connection to each other.
“What about Ray?”
At that, she rolled
her shoulders again. “If he stuck close to Zak, then he’s fine.”
“That’s cold.”
“That’s reality. But if it makes you feel better, tap them a message. I’m kind of busy.” She spent the next while getting them away from the cluster of ships and ejected pods that were hurtled when the station exploded. She had no interest in becoming a rescue ship. Wulff checked on the Bandit, his welding skills paying for his passage many times over. She lacked any kind of skill when it came to simple repairs.
Only after they popped into a nearby wormhole and out the other side into an empty galaxy did she finally relax.
Mid stretch, Wulff walked into the cockpit.
She dangled her head back, getting an upside-down view. “How’s my ship looking?”
“The hull is fine. A few of the outer fins will need adjusting. And I don’t know how the balloon canopy is.”
“I’m not seeing any warnings.” Her control panel had stopped flashing lights. “Guess we should discuss our next move. Given the market didn’t exactly pan out, where to next?”
“Bed.”
For a second, she thought he meant the two of them, together. Only the receding thump of his boots brought a frown, especially when she turned around to see he’d gone.
Leaving her alone.
So much for believing he’d push his luck for another kiss.
8
“Upon the twentieth full revolution of the cog that turns the world around, open thy flesh and receive the bounty that is your first cog.” – The Mighty Mecha Bible
Ursy came back for him, and Wulff didn’t know if he should be insulted or flattered.
He did know the kiss they shared was a very bad idea. Mostly because he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He would have expected the embrace to reinforce his belief that they shouldn’t be together. There definitely shouldn’t have been sparks.
Worst of all? He got the impression he enjoyed it a lot more than she did. She certainly hadn’t softened any toward him. On the contrary, she appeared even pricklier than ever.
He could only console himself with the fact she’d not fled the market but, instead, returned to rescue him. It had to mean something. But did it mean something in a sisterly way or something else? He didn’t dare ask. Any sign of weakness and she was liable to cut the gears out of his body and expunge him into space.