by Ben Bequer
“He don’t talk,” said a man from a nearby table. “Don’t act right, neither.”
“Ah,” Alec said. “But he can serve drinks, huh?”
The man shrugged.
Alec bought refills and returned to his friend, “Funny place.”
Everett was leaning back against the bar, eyeing everyone. He nodded in thanks as Alec handed him his refill. “Odds are all these sons of bitches are in on it too.”
“You’re too conspiratorial,” Alec said. “Most of these folk just want to be left alone. Live their lives in peace.”
Everett took a drink. The stuff was growing on him. “These are the poor bastards we bled and died for.”
“Against,” corrected Alec. “Remember, this little rock was on the other side of things.”
“Lotta good it did them,” Everett grunted. “Just the same, the war happened and I bet these people didn’t even notice what was going on. I doubt they did anything other than change the flag from one day to the next.”
He looked around, studying the crowd with contempt.
“And don’t tell me we made a difference on the big worlds either. I know I don’t travel much anymore, but I see how things are. People will do anything for peace, even sell their souls for it.”
Alec let Everett continue with his tirade. There was no point in arguing with him, even when he was wrong. Of all places, little border worlds like Astrakhan were very aware of the war. Strategically invaluable during the conflict and instantly useless once it was over, Astrakhan had gone from a boom town to a dying prison that these poor bastards lacked the creds to escape in the blink of an eye and the flick of a pen.
The door to the saloon flew open and slammed shut. Alec looked up to see someone pull herself out of an oversized coat and, in one continuous motion, throw the coat to the floor and let out a roar that shook the walls made the tin roof vibrate.
It was the green-eyed woman from the landing.
Somewhere in her twenties, her natural beauty managed to shine through her grease-smeared cargo pants and sweat-stained tank top. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but a few unruly stands had broken free and were clinging to the fresh blood on her mouth and nose.
“Motherfuckers,” she said, bounding to the distiller with deceptive agility. As she got her tin of the white swill, a pair of angry men stomped into the bar. One had his chest spattered with blood, courtesy of a broken nose. The other was covered in mud, as if he’d fallen or been thrown to the ground.
“You little bitch!” screamed the guy with the broken nose as soon as her saw her, and he leapt in her direction.
The woman took a hard swig of the drink, spilling it down her cheeks and onto her top. As the man reached her, she spat a mouthful of the caustic stuff into his eyes and threw the half-empty mug at the other man’s head.
“Motherfuckers!”
Alec had seen enough. He set his pistols on the bar in front of Everett, and moved himself between the woman and the two men.
“I think you guys-” Alec began, but that’s as far as he got before the woman spun him around by the shoulder with surprising strength and decked him so hard that he toppled to the ground.
“I don’t need your help,” she roared over him with fists clenched.
Alec chuckled, feeling a sliver of blood from a split lip.
She turned back to face the men and pulled a small handle out of her back pocket. The switchblade flashed open with a flick of her wrist.
“Try that shit again and I’ll cut your balls off.”
Alec immediately understood. He had seen exactly four women since they had landed, and one of those was the constable. His blood began to boil.
Alec looked over at his partner and saw that Everett’s hand was on the Battlemaster, ready to drop the men if they dared attack, his eyes flashing across the bar for future targets. Oblivious to Everett and feeling courageous with him on his ass, Alec knew they would attack the girl. Knife or not, they each had at least ten centimeters and thirty kilos on her. She might jab one a little, but the other would overwhelm her, pin her, and the matter would be settled.
No one else in the bar was doing anything. A few of the patrons were acting as if they weren’t aware of the fight, but most just continued their hushed discussions, huddled around their drinks and minding their own business.
Alec got to his feet behind the young woman and glared at the men over her head. One took a step back, gaping at the towering mass of angry muscle that was Alec Dayton. The other raised his hands in a sign of appeasement, and they both backed toward the door and left without another word.
She got her breathing under control, and became aware of Alec behind her. She spun, leveling the switchblade at his groin, “I thought I already dealt with you.”
Alec saw Everett unclipping the strap on his holster. He waved him down, indicating that everything was fine, but he knew that if this pretty lady tried to hurt him, Everett would put a bullet in her brain without another thought.
“I thought you needed help.”
“I said fuck off,” she said.
Alec gave her a genuine smile. He put his hands out and began easing back away from her. “Okay, fucking off.”
Once he was well clear of her, the young woman folded the knife and slid it into her pants pocket. She had a slender frame lined with taut muscle that made Alec think of the dancers Everett hired for his seedier clubs. The fact that she was dirty from head to toe only made her more attractive. She ripped the hem of her shirt, wiped the blood from her nose, and began wrapping the cloth around a nasty cut on her wrist.
“That’s going to fester,” Alec said.
She cocked her head, regarding him with disdain.
“No, I get it,” he said. “You can handle anything by yourself. You’re immortal and awesome.”
“You’re too impressed with yourself,” she said, picking up her coat and face gear from the floor.
“Fuck you,” she said and left.
Alec grabbed his weapons off the bar. “I’m going to make sure she’s okay.”
“Girl don’t want any help, kid,” Everett said. “Get it through your head.”
“They’re going to make another move on her.”
Everett shook his head. “It’s probably a trap to lure you out there. Ever think of that?”
Alec considered it for a moment, fitting his pulse pistols into his leg rigs. “No, Ev. That look, that was genuine.”
His partner shrugged, tapping a clear plastic earpiece that jutted out of his left ear. “Stay on open comms in case anything goes wrong.”
Alec nodded and trotted out of the bar.
* * * *
The street was empty in both directions, with only huge piles of garbage edging the surrounding buildings. A light drizzle seemed to always fall in this forsaken town, and Alec pulled his duster tight against his body. He shook his head in frustration and searched down the abandoned streets, finding no sign of the woman or her pursuers.
“Figures.”
He began making his way back to the saloon when he caught a blur in his peripheral vision. Jogging in that direction, he saw a silhouette run across the street several blocks away. The slight frame and ponytail were unmistakable.
He slid from the cover of a ruined building to the concealment of a pile of refuse. The two men were out there somewhere, he knew, even if he couldn’t see them. For a moment, Alec wished he had some of Everett’s mods, especially the stuff he had in his eyes. But Everett was older. He’d seen a decade of war before Alec even volunteered, and the injuries had started to pile up. The old man would be long dead if not for the tech that kept him going.
Alec saw the young woman ahead of him, keeping low and staying as close to cover as she could. She shot glances back as she darted from one hiding place to another, wary of being followed. He sprinted toward the area she had just vacated, wondering how far the two men had fallen behind.
Everett would have let the woman meet her fate. If
she wanted help, she had every chance to ask for it. But Alec knew better, knew things Everett had forgotten cloistered in his high-rises, taking meetings and browbeating local politicians. The woman’s rage and fear were real, and this was probably an average night for her, scurrying out to find food, avoiding rapists in the banks of garbage.
He stopped behind a large beam of twisted metal and saw one of the men moving across the street. Alec let him reach cover before rushing after him.
The air was thick with the sound of raindrops pelting the mud, muffling his thudding footsteps as he reached a wall and peeked over. About ten meters from him was the guy with the broken nose, moving through the rubble of a flattened building, the oblivious young woman just ahead.
Alec rushed from his position and came up behind the man, pressing one of his pistols into his back. “Move and I plug you.”
“Wha-?” began the man, but Alec spun him around and the sight of a pulse pistol aimed at his heart silenced him.
“One more word and the last thing you’ll ever experience is a really bad case of heartburn, understand?” Alec raised his eyebrows, and the man quickly nodded in acknowledgement. “Where’s the other asshole?”
The guy shrugged.
Alec pulled his other pistol and used the grip to crack him in the head before placing the barrel between the man’s eyes.
“I’m not going to ask you again,” Alec said, but the answer became apparent as he felt the muddy ground crunching behind him.
“Gotcha,” said the other asshole. He was pressing what felt like a rifle into Alec’s back.
Alec considered for a moment whether the fact that he had weapons pointed at the man in front of him would stop the one behind him from shooting. Yeah, right. He released his grip on his pistols. “Damn.”
The man with the broken nose smiled, took Alec’s guns, and admired them for a second or two before pointing them at his head.
“My partner told me this would be an ambush,” Alec said.
“Shut up,” said the other asshole.
“I’m always being the damned hero, getting into trouble.”
“I said shut up,” the guy repeated, and pistol-whipped Alec across the back of his head. Alec flinched, feeling blood mingling with the rain running down his neck.
“That little shit with you?” Alec said.
“What?” asked the man with the broken nose.
“The girl,” Alec said looking around. “She part of the team?”
The man laughed, “She’ll get hers in a bit. First, though, we’re going to strip you to your birthday suit.”
“Aw, come on, guys,” Alec said. “It’s cold out.”
He continued scanning the area until he saw her, a small figure huddled against a second floor window of a nearby warehouse, looking down at him. It was the woman, hiding from them. They locked eyes for a moment, and she slipped back into the shadows.
“So the girl’s not with you, huh?” Alec said.
The guy with the broken nose lost his patience, and his partner stepped aside and out of his firing arc. “Oh, to hell with this.”
He pressed the triggers on Alec’s guns.
Nothing happened.
He tried firing a few more times with the same result. Alec saw the other asshole smiling at his friend’s dilemma, but he wasn’t too distracted, and the barrel of the rusty old rifle didn’t waver.
At that moment, he wished he had Everett’s PSG strapped to his belt.
“How about a drink back at the bar and we call it even, huh?”
“These damn guns don’t work.” The man with the broken nose threw Alec’s pistols to the ground in frustration and pulled out a small combat knife.
“No, they’re just gene coded,” Alec said. “Only I can shoot them. And now you got mud all over them.” A loud gun barked in the distance, several blocks off. It fired again a moment later, and Alec dove to the ground.
The other asshole spun around to look in the direction of the shots.
His friend started laughing at him, the sound high and choked as it struggled to come through his broken nose. “What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s some asshole down the street shooting up in the air.”
“Nope,” said Alec, “That’s my partner Everett, using telemetry I’m sending him remotely along with a parabolic rangefinder and laser sighting system he has attached to this huge phallic symbol he calls a gun.”
“Huh?” said the other asshole, but any further inquiry was forestalled by the .750 round that pounded into his chest with a wet slap and sent him twisting to the muddy ground.
The man with the broken nose had half a second to look confused before the second round came down from the sky and dropped him.
Alec grabbed his pistols and stood, letting the rain wash them clean as he looked up at the window, and for a second he could imagine a figure outlined against the dark. Maybe she’d been watching him, and if she had been, she knew he had saved her. That was enough for him.
Moments later Everett came rushing in his direction, but slowed and holstered his pistol when he saw that both of his shots hand landed.
“You were right,” Alec said.
“Of course I was,” said Everett. He shook his head in disgust at the two imbeciles twitching on the ground, slowly dying from their wounds.
Alec smiled, “You finally got to use the parabolic interlay. How does it feel to be my personal artillery?”
“What’d you think, anyway?” Everett fished around in a pouch on his belt and pulled out a flat-faced device with a curved handle. He knelt beside the first man, still alive but in shock, and placed the flat side of the device against the wound. “That you were going to save the girl and she was, what, going to be so thankful that she’d open up her legs for you right then and there?”
Everett engaged the device, and the man screamed in pain as the bullet tore out of his body and slammed into the magnetic plate. The man began shuddering, blood spattering out of the newly savaged bullet wound in his chest.
“Then what? You’re going to hump her right here in the mud?” Everett pulled the huge bloody bullet from the device and dropped it into his coat pocket.
“Yeah, I know-” began Alec, but Everett was on a roll.
“I mean, she’s a looker, a little too thin in the hips for my taste, but I saw that fire in her eyes. Made me want to hump her too,” Everett continued as he stepped over to the other man. He was already dead, but his body jerked violently when the magnetic device ripped the second shell from his body. “I know you like to stick anything in sight, kid, but what are we going to do, bring her with us?”
“I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”
Everett stood, breathing heavily from the exertion and the lousy air. He pulled his breather back up over his face, and when he spoke again, his voice was muffled. “You sure like those skinny little things, don’t you?”
Alec smiled, “She looked like she needed help, Ev.”
“That she did,” Everett chuckled, patting his partner on the shoulder. “But you can’t save everyone, kid, especially those that don’t want saving.”
“Point taken.” Alec returned his weapons to his shoulder rig. “So what’s next, the constable?”
Everett wiped the gore from the device with a small rag and returned it to his back pocket. “Maybe after. While you were out gallivanting, I found a lead. Remember the guy that warned us about the drinks? We’re meeting him across town in thirty minutes.”
“You sure?”
“More than you were about the girl.”
Alec shrugged. He looking back to the girl’s hiding place, but she was long gone.
“I hope she knows the trouble you went through,” Everett said, wiping the rain from his face. “Anyway, let’s get to the meeting early. Two ambushes per night’s my limit.”
&n
bsp;