"Is that so? Wonderful creatures. Just wonderful. The more time I spend travelling this vast universe, the more I am amazed at what it has to offer. So many planets to see, so little time. It really takes the breath away. For instance, do you know that on a planet called Earth, they eat something called ice cream? It's frozen and comes in different flavours. Wonderful stuff, that--"
"Earth! Now how can one little planet be getting so much attention?" said Duke.
"Oh, does the name ring a bell?"
Duke rolled his eyes and tapped his fingers along the railing. "I may have heard it in passing. But what is it that you want, Rustem?"
"I believe we can help each other."
"Do you now? Help! Is this what you call help?" Duke gestured to the mass of bodies. "Killing my men? Acting like you're the law? I know that many believe you're some sort of creature that lurks in the night. That your name should only be uttered in a whisper, lest you appear. That you can't be killed.
"Well, shall we put that theory to the test?"
"Killing me now shall accomplish none of your goals," Rustem said.
"But I shall enjoy it very much."
"In my experience, pleasure that one waits for is always better than pleasure gained instantly. Duke, the crime lord of a sand castle. The slave who made something more of himself. The people who chained and whipped him are now at his mercy. How does it feel to hold the whip, instead of being threatened by it?"
"Feels heavy."
"I am sure it must," said Rustem.
"But enough of this. You've still not told me how you can help me. From where I am standing, you need my help. This is my city. These are my people. Nothing happens unless I say so," said Duke.
"And yet you didn't know I was here," Rustem said with a smile.
Duke bit back the rage boiling in his throat and gripped his rifle till his knuckles glowed white. He knew Rustem's reputation. This creature wouldn't be standing in front of him unless he wanted something important. Or someone had hired him to get something they couldn't get themselves.
"I am still waiting for an answer," said Duke.
"There is someone important that I need from this city. Someone that I believe you have had a run-in with--"
"And who would that be?"
"Oh, no one of great value, I assure you. A simple man from a planet called Earth. How a single unknowing event, like an attack on someone important, can cause such a chain reaction is beyond me. His actions have such far-reaching consequences I shudder to think what will happen if he continues to roam free," said Rustem.
"And this Earth man would be?"
"Phoenix Jones. He wears a distinctive earring. Almost garish, one might say."
"One might, might they?" said Duke.
The heaviness of the silence that descended made everyone nervous. People on both sides kept their hands glued to their triggers, their gazes sweeping from Rustem to Duke. Blood had been shed and was ready to gush forth again unless some sort of agreement was reached.
"I am sorry, Rustem, but that worm eater is mine. Now I know his name, it will bring me even more pleasure to drive my fist down his throat."
"I know you believe you have a claim on him, like the stars have a claim on the darkness in space, but he offended someone before you. His life has already been claimed. It was already written, so it must be done," said Rustem.
"As I see it, if I kill you, and everyone you brought to my warehouse, then there will be no one to stand in my way."
As the last words fell from Duke's mouth the tension rose like a swell of the ocean. Jaws clenched. Grips tightened. Muscles flexed.
"Steady, steady, steady. If you go down this path you will lose something you have been after since the dawn of time. Something special to only you. Something that only you and I know the value of. Knowledge that has been out of your reach for some time," said Rustem.
"Which is?"
"I have the girl, L, and all the knowledge she holds. Now, shall we discuss the matter of Phoenix Jones?"
35
Phoenix, Saoirse and Freyan sat in a room just about big enough to swing a cat in above a shop of some sort. The owner hadn't been willing to take any amount of credits for the room Saoirse had acquired. It seemed that Phoenix's image, along with the rest of the crew, had been blasted city-wide by Duke. A reward was being offered for any information that would lead to their capture.
The owner had turned white as a sheet upon seeing their faces, his hair going the same colour. He shook his head furiously, saying he wanted no trouble. Saoirse had draped her arm over his shoulder and whispered something that Phoenix couldn't quite hear in his ear. Whatever was said seemed to do the trick, as they were shown to the room they now occupied.
Saoirse paced back and forth like a caged lioness. "She should be here, by now. I sent a message about where we are to everyone's holocom. This makes no sense."
Phoenix had an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't shake it, no matter how hard he tried; something didn't feel right.
"I'm sure she will be along shortly," said Freyan.
Saoirse either didn't hear or chose not to, as her pacing didn't stop. "I should have... There must be... This isn't--" Saoirse shook her head and passed her hands through her hair.
Footsteps made their way up a flight of stairs towards them. Phoenix and Saoirse grabbed their weapons while the echoes grew closer.
Someone knocked three times.
Phoenix held his finger to his lips and moved towards the door. Only one shadow blocked the light from outside. Only one that he could see, anyway.
"Who is it?" he asked in a gruff voice.
The silence on the other side only lasted a heartbeat. "Phoenix, is that you? It's Plowstow. Open the door, it's crazy out there."
Phoenix gave a nod to Saoirse, who hid behind the door, pistol and knife at the ready. Phoenix opened the door a crack and saw that Plowstow was indeed alone. He swept into the room in a whirlwind of panic.
Phoenix poked his head out the door and checked the hallway. The coast was clear, but he still couldn't shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Saoirse pointed her pistol at the back of Plowstow's head. He raised both his trembling hands in the air, his eyes wide in panic.
"What's this about? Come on, I thought we are all on the same team here. Don't...do anything crazy," said Plowstow.
"Where were you?" Saoirse asked through gritted teeth.
"Nowhere."
"Nowhere? I didn't know such a place existed," said Phoenix.
"Come on, y'all. You know me. It's me," said Plowstow, licking his lips.
"I will not ask again. Where were you? If I do not like the answer, I will blow your brains out the front of your head," said Saoirse.
Plowstow's eyes darted back and forth. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and his chest rose and fell. One hand went to wipe his forehead, but stopped midway. His tongue clicked against his canines and he swallowed. "I went for a walk, to try and cool off. My feelings were mighty hurt after our last conversation--"
Freyan snorted and Plowstow narrowed his eyes in Freyan's direction.
"Truth be told, I was looking for any ship off this rock. I didn't want to stay here a minute longer than necessary. This place doesn't sit well with me–it's the heat. It doesn't do my skin a lick of good. So I searched and searched for a ship–any ship–but there was nothing that took my fancy--"
"No one wanted you, you mean," said Freyan.
"No. There just wasn't a ship that could meet my high standards," said Plowstow.
Freyan shook his head and turned away.
"So, after that, where did you go?" asked Phoenix.
"Boozing and whoring, mostly. Till I ran out of credits."
Phoenix gave a slight nod of the head before letting out a heavy sigh. "Well, while you were enjoying yourself, we went to save L's brother from Duke. I failed. Then we had more trouble at Rusty's–someone called Rustem has decided
he wants my head--"
"Rustem! The Rustem? Fuck," said Plowstow.
"Heard of him, then? Well, after he made his appearance, a firefight ensued and we got away. But L hasn't returned," said Phoenix.
"That explains the message I got. I thought it was weird. All it said was 'We have one of your own'. It was from an old contact I used to run with, a female Orcian called Odessa."
The roar that erupted from Saoirse's throat brought dust down from the rafters. It was part pain, part fury. Phoenix saw her hand move and he sped forward, knocking her hand upwards. The pistol she was holding went off in a flash of green light. Phoenix held her hand firm and stared into the pits of fury that were her eyes as bits of the ceiling rained down on their shoulders. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He simply gave a small shake of his head.
Saoirse tore her hand from his grip and folded her arms over her chest. Her nostrils flared as she stared defiantly in Phoenix's direction.
"Now, Plowstow, tell me how you are the only one who received this message? Tell me how, out of the rest of us, you got this message? Because to anyone looking in from the outside, it would appear that you are not even part of the crew.
"So please explain to me, carefully, how is it that you–you, Plowstow–received such a message," said Phoenix.
"Well...like I said, I once ran with Odessa doing odd jobs. Anything that pays, you know. Nothing major. Then we parted ways. She had a thing for me, but it was only one-way. Since then I heard rumours and news of what she was up to, here and there, but that's it. I swear, Phoenix."
Phoenix said nothing as he stared at the Orcian, his fingers tapping the outside of his leg.
"I did hear she joined forces with Rustem, but I paid it no mind. I ain't one for snooping. Plus who would be crazy enough to join forces with a monster like that? But it must be true, if she messaged me on his behalf."
"What exactly did the message say?" said Phoenix.
"We have one of your own. Your move."
36
The walls were closing in. Phoenix could feel them. He could brush his fingers against them. They closed off his only view of the setting sun. The walls felt absolute.
"Plowstow, go out and gather as many hover vehicles as you can find. The smaller and faster the better--"
"I don't have any--"
"I don't care if you have no credits. Find a way to get them. Steal them, hold whoever you need to at gunpoint. But let me make this clear, Plowstow, if you come back empty-handed, then I'll be closing you and Saoirse in a small room together for a nice long chat."
Phoenix could see that Plowstow was about to say something else, but Phoenix stared him down. He didn't have time for this: the whining, the complaining, the moaning. It would all stop now.
Plowstow gave him a small nod. "What do you want me to do about the message?"
"Leave it, for now. Don't do anything until I have a plan. I want complete radio silence on our end. If they message again, let me know," said Phoenix.
Plowstow stared at him open-mouthed, about to say something else, but Phoenix shook his head and pointed to the door. Plowstow grunted, turned his back and left.
"Saoirse, get me as many guns as you can. The bigger the better. I want to make some big fucking holes," said Phoenix.
"Phoenix, they have her," Saoirse said in a small voice.
If Phoenix didn't know better, he would have mistaken it for a plea, a cry for help. But looking into the pools of blackness that were Saoirse's eyes made him shudder. God help the people who got in her way when the fighting started. He had never seen such anger. She was almost at breaking point.
"I know. But I need you to do something for me. I need you to hold it together, just for a few more days, at least. Then the fun really starts. Get me what I've asked for, and we shall make anyone who stands in our way pay."
Saoirse gave him a slight nod and made her way out the door, her hair billowing behind her.
Phoenix placed his hands on his head, letting out a deep-rooted sigh.
"Difficult, isn't it?" said Freyan.
"What is?" said Phoenix.
"Being a captain, a leader."
"Is that what you call what I'm doing?" Phoenix said, letting out a snort of laughter.
"What would you call it?"
"Helping some friends in their hour of need. Righting a few wrongs."
"To some, that's what leadership is all about."
"Well...those people are idiots." Phoenix turned his head to look at Freyan. The Bloodless one appeared to be amused; his eggshell-white features smiled faintly. Even in the gloom of the dingy room, Freyan's gold joints shone like lost treasure at the bottom of the ocean.
"After this is done, we should run," said Freyan.
"Run?" Phoenix repeated with a wrinkled brow.
Freyan stretched his arms out behind his head before bringing them down on his lap. The bed he sat on creaked as he shifted his weight. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, seeming to search for the right thing to say. "Phoenix, how well do you know Lord Portendorfer? I don't mean junior, I mean senior."
"I know next to nothing about him. Why should I?"
"Because..."
Something is wrong. He's thinking about how much he should tell me. Or what he should tell me.
"Lord Portendorfer...is... He shouldn't be taken lightly," said Freyan.
Phoenix shook his head as a smile crept along his lips. "Any man, beast or child who has an army shouldn't be taken lightly, Freyan. This is nothing new to me."
"Lord Portendorfer is--"
"Doesn't he have a first name?"
Freyan slammed his open palm down on the bed, shaking his head. A small sigh escaped him. "Phoenix, Lord Portendorfer is different to Holger. If Holger is the flame from a candle giving light to a room, his father is the sun. The head of the families that make up the Council give up their name and are simply known by their family name."
"Well, that's stupid," said Phoenix.
Freyan stood and walked towards Phoenix. Grabbing him by both shoulders, Freyan once again shook his head. "Before Lord Portendorfer became who he is, he got into an argument with a crime lord who owed him credits. This was before the Council. He was young, angry, and brash, but most of all he was determined. The crime lord's men outnumbered him ten to one. He knew he could never fight them head on, so you know what he did?"
"No," said Phoenix.
"He hid in the camp's latrine for seventy-two hours. With nothing to eat. Nothing to drink. He waited and waited until he found his target, and he shoved his knife... Well, I'm sure you can guess."
"No wonder he gave birth to such a shitty son," said Phoenix with a smile.
Silence filled the room as Freyan simply stared.
"What? Come on, you know that joke was gold."
"Heed my words. If not, at least think them through."
Phoenix patted Freyan on the shoulder before making his way towards the door. He halted with his hand on the handle and looked over his shoulder. "Freyan, it will be all right. Trust me."
"Do you believe what he said?"
"What, Plowstow? Hell no! His story holds up about as well as when I get caught in the bed of a woman I'm not supposed to be with. He's lying through his teeth. I'm just not too sure to what extent. But it doesn't matter, anyway. If he could have sold us out he would have done so already. He knew where we were; all he had to do was pass that message across."
"What if he has something else planned?"
"Highly unlikely," Phoenix said with a snort.
"Why do you keep him around?" Freyan asked.
"Because you can always trust a dishonest dog to do what you expect. Dishonest things. Plowstow is not stupid or evil. He's just greedy and selfish, and I can use that against him. I can use him how I see fit. We have a saying on Earth: better the devil you know."
"It seems like you're the one to be feared," said Freyan.
"I am. But Plowstow doesn't realise that, yet. Wh
en he does, it will be too late."
37
Darkness.
Darkness and the smell of fear.
L had learnt the scent of it when she was in Dredar. You didn't recognise it, at first. You didn't accept it. But the longer you stayed around it, the more it seeped into your pores, through your veins, like a toxin. It wrapped itself round you like a tight-fitting mechanic's glove.
She didn't want to accept it was here.
She had grown up since that first night in Dredar. She had told herself, time and time again, that she would not allow herself to become fear's slave. But here she was again. Fighting to breathe. Fighting to think. Trying to keep her heart rate down.
She would be saved. She would be saved.
She had made friends now. Midnight would come to her rescue. Phoenix had promised her that he would not let any harm come to her, no matter what. Phoenix had promised.
He had promised, hadn't he?
"You think you're safe, little girl?" a voice whispered in the darkness.
It made L's spine crawl. She jerked her head left to right but couldn't see anything. The blindfold prevented light from hitting her retinas. L moved her head, trying to detect the location of the voice.
"You think that your friends will come and help you? How wrong you are, my little flower. Friends are friends until a better option comes around. Friends are friends until they have to put themselves in harm's way. There are a few true ones, but how many do you think you have in that little crew of yours? Hmm, I wonder, I wonder. Strange indeed."
L tried to speak but her mouth was dry. She licked her cracked lips and tried again. "Who are you?"
"Me? Some call me the Bell Man–silly name, really. But most call me Rustem."
"What do you want from me?" L asked.
L heard nothing but the gentle jingle of bells. With each passing minute, they grew louder and louder until it felt like they were assaulting her senses.
"Have you ever been raped?" Rustem asked.
The question hung in the air like a lead weight tied around a swimmer's ankle.
Stranded: (Space Outlaw 2) Page 11