by Nolan Fury
“We will,” I assured him. He didn’t need to waste his breath on the obvious.
The guardian started to say something else, but the life faded from him. His eyes went blank, staring at the ceiling. I gently closed his eyelids and stood up.
“What the hell are we going to do now?” Ranger asked.
“Titus has two of the three stones.” My eyes widened with concern. “He’ll attack the Academy next to acquire the third. And he’ll do it while we are all off on this wild goose chase.”
“We’ve got to get back to the Academy immediately,” Zepha said.
Fear and frustration filled Ranger’s voice. “How are we going to do that without a ship?”
16
A brisk wind whipped across the face of the mountain. From the steps of the temple, I could see the hazy outline of the metropolis below. Zorca Nova was the largest city on Cygnus Reticuli.
Surge pulled her mobile phone from her pocket. Her face wrinkled with disappointment. “We are way too far out of range to connect to Vega station. We should be able to find a pilot in the city,” Surge said.
“I sure hope you’re right,” Ranger added.
"Do you need a lift?" Surge asked Chrome before she had a chance to ask me.
"Actually, I think I’ve got this." She ran down the slope of the mountain and spread her arms like a bird about to take flight. They turned into alloy wings. Her body morphed into a shiny metallic fuselage. She soared through the clouds and angled toward the city.
Ranger leapt into the air. Surge and I exchanged a glance and followed after them. Zepha turned into mist and drifted on the breeze.
We flew through the clouds and landed on a rooftop in the city. The buildings extended as far as the eye could see, only stopping at the ocean on the west side. The center of the city was pristine and stylish—modern architecture with elegant lines. But the outskirts of the city didn't share the same visual appeal. The architecture wasn’t as innovative, and the structures were in disrepair. A rim of slums lined the outskirts of the city. Transport ships came and went from a spaceport on the east side of downtown.
“Let's get to the spaceport. Maybe we can pick up a commercial flight," Surge said.
We flew across the city and landed in an alleyway near the spaceport. We figured it was probably a good idea to keep a low profile—you could never predict how someone was going to react to supers. We didn't need any additional conflicts.
The terminal was bustling with activity. Passengers of all shapes and sizes from all across the galaxy came and went. My eyes darted about, observing all the people and aliens. Where were they coming from? Where were they going? How many civilizations were out there?
We made our way to the ticketing counter and inquired about flights.
A large, blob like alien woman with three protruding eyes, orange skin, and entirely too much makeup assisted us. “There’s only one flight to Vega station a week, and that flight is booked out for the next six weeks.”
“Can you put us on standby?” Surge asked.
“I can. The standby list is long. I doubt all five of you would make the same flight.”
Surge’s face tensed. “This is an emergency.”
“You might be able to buy passage on a cargo ship? But industrial ships don’t fly out of this port. You’ll need to go to the Gray Hook Terminal on the south side of town. It’s in the industrial district.” The ticketing agent pondered the situation for a moment. “Protons is a pilot bar around the corner. You should be able to find someone there who could help you out. Just be careful. There are all sorts in there.”
“Thanks, you've been helpful," Surge said.
We left the port and walked a few blocks to Protons. It was a dingy place with red accent lighting and an eclectic crowd of people. It wasn't a tourist spot. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the place was packed. The smell of stale beer and spilled liquor filled the air. Ambient music wafted through the club. The center bar was surrounded by regulars sitting on stools. The outer rim of the club contained dim booths. A smoky haze hung in the air.
We paused at the door and surveyed the establishment, then weaved through the crowd and found an empty place at the bar. I perused the shelf of liquor behind the bartender. They were all brands that I had never heard of. There was nothing from Earth here.
Surge ordered a round of shots.
The bartender yanked a bottle from the well and poured blue liquid into five shot glasses. He slid them across the bar and Surge handed him some cash.
I held the glass to my lips and sniffed the liquor. “What the hell is this?”
“Navaca. It’s like tequila, but stronger.”
Stronger than tequila wasn’t good news. I had an encounter with a bottle of tequila one time that left me hugging the porcelain god. I ended up sleeping on the tile floor in the bathroom all night and waking up in the morning with a desert for a mouth, and the planet still spinning. I had sworn off tequila, but I figured as a super, this Navaca wasn’t going to kill me. And when in Rome…
My hand brought the shot glass to my lips, and I tilted it back. The blue liquid spilled over my tongue with a sweet burn. I swallowed it down, and warmth flowed through my belly.
The stuff wasn’t bad.
Within moments, my skin felt tingly, my mood elevated. I motioned to the bartender to pour me another one.
“Don’t go overboard on that stuff,” Surge said. “We’ve got work to do.”
“Sure, no problem.”
The bartender poured me another shot and waited for payment. But I didn’t have any money. My hopeful eyes glanced to Surge like a kid begging for a piece of candy.
She shook her head and dug into her pocket and slapped another bill on the counter.
I grinned and slugged the intoxicating liquor down.
Surge leaned into the bartender. “Do you know where I could find a private pilot?”
“In this place, throw a stick. But you might try DE. He’s amenable to flying strangers.” The bartender pointed to a booth in the corner.
“Thanks.”
Surge turned her attention back to the rest of us. “Why don’t you stay here? I might be able to get a little further on my own,” she said with a wink.
I didn’t mind her teasing her assets to get us what we needed.
She weaved through the crowded bar sauntering up to the dim booth. I couldn’t get a good look at the guy. The corner was dark. The guy had long hair, and I could see his head tilt and check out Surge’s shapely form. After a few minutes, she waved us over.
“DE Armstrong, at your service.” He stood up and shook our hands. “The name’s Duane Earl Armstrong, but you can call me DE, Duane, or Earl. My mom always called me Duane Earl when I was in trouble. My ex-wife calls me shit-head.”
“Nice to meet you, shit-head,” Chrome said.
A lecherous grin curled on DE’s lips. “You and I are going to get along just fine. I’m always looking for the next ex-Mrs. Armstrong.”
He had long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a goatee. He had a rockstar vibe about him. He wore a skull ring, and a green crystal hung around his neck. It glowed slightly as we all drew near. His leather boots and trench-coat completed the outlaw’s outfit.
“There’s one slight problem,” Surge said. “We can’t pay you right now. But as soon as we get to Vega Station, I can get your fee.”
DE’s grin faded. “Well, little lady, that’s expecting me to take a giant leap of faith. And I’m not the religious type.”
“I’ll pay you double,” Surge added.
“20,000 credits?” he mumbled to himself. DE scratched his chin as he thought about this. “You know, we might be able to work out some other type of arrangement,” he said as his eyes looked Surge up and down.
I clenched my jaw. “That’s not negotiable.”
DE raised his hands into the air innocently. “No need to get hostile. I think 35,000 credits will suffice.”
Surge arched an eyebr
ow at him. “35,000?”
“Take it or leave it.”
She sighed in frustration. “Deal. When can we leave?”
“Earliest I can get out is tomorrow.”
“This is urgent!”
“If you want to find another ride, be my guest. But you’re not going to find too many people that want to deal with supers. Your kind is getting a bad rap lately.”
“What makes you think we’re supers?” Chrome asked.
“I wasn’t born yesterday, sweetheart.”
“Then you know we could make you take us,” Ranger added.
“Give it your best shot, tough guy. Nobody makes DE do anything he doesn’t want to.”
Ranger puffed his chest out and bowed up to the man.
Surge put her hand on his chest, “Ease up.”
Ranger reluctantly backed down.
“Tomorrow is fine,” Surge said.
“Docking Bay 23,” DE said. “Meet me there at noon.”
DE slugged the rest of his drink and slammed the glass on the table. He put his shoulder into Ranger as he brushed past.
Ranger snarled at him.
“What do you think his story is?” Zepha asked. “He didn’t seem too threatened by Ranger.
“That’s because Ranger is a big pussy,” Chrome said.
Ranger glared at her.
“Did anybody else feel a little weak when he was around?” I asked.
“Yeah. Come to think of it, I did,” Zepha replied.
“The crystal around his neck,” Surge said. “It must have some type of energy transference power. Maybe that’s why he didn’t back down?”
“I say we keep looking,” Ranger added. “No telling what we could be getting ourselves into with this guy?”
17
I wasn't sure how this was going to work out. I wasn't too keen on sleeping on the couch. We had gotten a suite at the Vanguard. The luxury hotel was well appointed. We had a full kitchen, living room with a large screen TV, and two rooms—each with two double beds.
I was reasonably certain that Surge would let me share one of the beds with her, but it wasn't guaranteed. She had gotten bent about Chrome flirting with me when I saved her. Circumstances beyond my control.
Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city. There was a small terrace—large enough for a few chairs. We were on the 37th floor. The dull rumblings of the city filtered in through the open sliding glass door.
”Who's sleeping where?" Chrome asked.
"I'm not sleeping with Ranger," Zepha said. "He snores.”
"I don't snore,” he protested.
"Yes, you do!” everyone said in unison.
"I'll flip you for it," Chrome said.
"How about we all draw straws?” Zepha moved into the kitchen and found some toothpicks. She snapped one of them, making it shorter than the others. She positioned them in her fist, so they all looked even. She strolled back into the living room and extended her hand to Chrome.
She drew a full length toothpick. Now it was Surge’s turn. She reached for one, but then switched for the other at the last moment. She pulled the tip out, and a full length toothpick slid free.
“Damn!” Zepha grumbled.
Chrome’s eyes lit up with glee. She wrapped her arms around Surge and gave her a squeeze. “We’re going to be roomies!”
“I guess that means I’ll take the couch?” I said.
Chrome scoffed. “Please. We all know where you’re sleeping tonight.”
Surge arched a defiant eyebrow at Chrome.
“Oh, stop. You know it’s true.”
I tried to withhold a grin.
“I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m hungry,” Ranger said. “What time is it here, anyway?”
“I think it’s around 1600 hrs,” Zepha said.
“You know, right now Titus and his thugs could be attacking the Academy,” Surge said. Her face was tense, and it was easy to see she was stressed out. “How can you think about food at a time like this?”
“I gotta eat,” Ranger said. I get hangry when I don’t eat.”
“Me too,” Chrome added.
“There’s nothing we can do until we get back to Vega Station,” Zepha said. “We need to take care of ourselves and conserve our strength.”
“You’re right. I’m just in panic mode,” Surge said.
“We had a stressful day,” Zepha said. “I think we deserve to unwind.”
“I could unwind with a little more of that Navaca,” I mumbled.
“I second the notion,” Ranger said.
“Let’s find a good restaurant, then hit a bar,” Chrome added.
“Come on, Surge,” Zepha pleaded. “We might as well have a little fun while we're here.”
“Alright, fine. But I don’t want anybody having so much fun that they can’t function tomorrow.” Surge’s eyes blazed into me. “That means go easy on the Navaca.”
The hotel concierge pointed us in the direction of a good local seafood restaurant. Zorca Nova was a port city known for its fresh seafood. But the fish swimming in the seas of Cygnus Reticuli were unlike those of Earth. It took all of Surge’s persuasive powers to get me to try the sushi. Some of it was great, and some of it made me gag. Superhero or not, I was a little leery about eating uncooked things that had just stopped squirming.
The waiter tipped us off on a trendy bar around the block and we took our full bellies there. It was the kind of place that had a long line, a velvet rope, and a dick-head doorman picking and choosing who got to enter. After standing in line for half an hour, the doorman let the girls inside, but held out his hand stopping Ranger and me.
It was a bad move on his part.
It didn’t matter how big this guy was, he wasn’t going to stand a chance against us.
“We’re altogether,” I said.
“Tough shit.”
I smiled and tried to play nice. “I think you misunderstood me. I said we are all together.”
“I think you misunderstood me. I said get the fuck out of here before I give you a beating.”
Ranger and I exchanged a wry glance. Then I stared the douche-canoe down. “Give it your best shot.”
My eyes must have made me look like a crazed psychopath. I flexed my muscles and practically growled at the man.
The big guy swallowed hard, then backed down. I don’t think he realized we were supers, and I don’t think many people stood up to him.
“Uh, I’ll let you in,” he stammered. “But just this one time.” He unlatched the velvet rope and pulled it aside. Ranger and I strolled into the club. Music pumped, vibrating my chest. Colored spotlights swirled in the hazy air around the dance floor. Densely packed bodies undulated in rhythm to the music.
“What happened to you guys?” Chrome asked. “Did you get lost?”
“No. We just had to give someone an attitude adjustment.”
Surge grabbed my hand and pulled me away from Chrome. “Come on, let’s get a drink.”
We weaved through the hordes of revelers and squeezed into a space at the bar. Surge ordered two shots.
“Do you want to start a tab?” the bartender asked.
“No. I’ll pay cash. Surge slid several bills across the counter.
The bartender filled two glasses and slid them over. Surge picked them up and handed one to me.
"What is this?"
“Navaca and Red Dragon."
I gave her a skeptical glance.
"Trust me. It's good." She had a devilish glint in her eyes. “To supers,” she toasted. “The good ones.”
We clinked glasses and slugged the shots down. The Red Dragon added carbonation and a zesty flavor to the Navaca. It was good. The sedating effects of the Navaca mixed with the stimulant qualities of the Red Dragon made for a helluva rush. We gulped the shots down, then she ordered another round. As the second drink hit my belly, my face and nose tingled again.
Surge grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the dance floo
r. I may have been a super, but I was still just as awkward.
Surge took to the dance floor like a seal to the sea. Her svelte form moved in rhythm with the beat. Her hips swung from side to side in mesmerizing fashion.
I needed another drink before attempting this, but Surge didn't seem to mind my modest gyrations. She sauntered toward me and wrapped her arms around my neck. Our bodies pressed against one another, and our hips interlocked. It didn't take much for my junk to take notice. Surge ground her hips against my bulging rod. My core burned with desire.
Her wet lips pressed against mine. We melded into one another. A rush of energy flowed through me. My hands traced the curves of her body. We became that couple on the dance floor, grinding and groping. I pulled her hair and nibbled at her neck, then found her ear. She shivered with passion as my tongue traced her ear lobe.
“Get a room!” Chrome teased as she danced with Ranger beside us.
Surge moved her full lips to my ear, and her hot breath set my body on fire. “Maybe she’s right. If we go back to the hotel now, we’ll have privacy.”
“I’m not going to argue with that.”
Surge grabbed my hand and pulled me from the dance floor. “Thanks for the idea,” she said to Chrome, rubbing it in.
My heart pounded with anticipation. We couldn’t get back to the hotel room fast enough. But two goons that flooded into the bar with plasma rifles put a damper on things.
A goon blasted two rounds into the ceiling. The glowing blue bolts of plasma exploded a light fixture. Sparks showered down, and the fixture crashed to the floor. The crowd parted and shrieked in terror. The music stopped.
“Everybody on the ground! Now! Face down!” The goon swept his plasma rifle over the crowd. The massive weapon packed a hellacious punch. Its big black barrel could spit out 200 rounds a minute. The plasma generator assembly glowed blue, illuminating the thug’s face with under-lighting. It accentuated his ominous appearance. He had dark hair, and his gaunt face was pocked with acne scars. His brow protruded low, almost obscuring his narrow eyes. His nose was flattened, like it had been broken a few times and hadn’t quite healed correctly.