Fragments sf-6

by Randolph Lalonde

  “Then she probably wants something,” Ayan finished with a nod.

  “Remember, we’re playing with a pretty full deck, Ayan.” Laura reassured. “You have a whole fighter wing, the Clever Dream, and six other serviceable ships. Some need more work than others, but that’s a lot more than I think a lot of people here seem to have.”

  Ayan watched the oldest of the city buildings, brick and brown concrete structures, go by as the shuttle slowed down. “It’s strange hearing you say ‘I have them,’ all this is getting more complicated by the second. Not to mention strange. All of a sudden I’m the owner of my own fleet and it’s up to the four of us to solve the biggest problems as quick as we can. Now I think we’re about to sit down with a crime boss who’s been at it for longer than I think anyone here knows.” They passed the city and the shuttle picked up speed over the jungle tree tops.

  “Just remember how many people you have backing you.”

  “How can I forget? They’re sitting in the Dower Wastes right now, depending on us to get them a safe place to park.”

  The shuttle stopped and Ayan looked behind her as the hatch opened and the ramp way extended. They had arrived at what she could only describe as a beach side villa. Behind the grand four storey, terracotta roofed house was a tall cave. It had been blocked off with massive armoured accordion doors several metres in, and from the wavering light in front, she could tell there was some kind of energy shielding. Other hatches in the mountainside hid fixtures she would have loved to know more about, but decided to concentrate on getting down the ramp in front of her onto the tall terrace.

  The patio ran the width of the lowest level of the main house, and was bricked with fortified yellow quartz, to blend in with the glittering natural white and brown quartz sand on the beach. There were several ironwork tables and chairs, padded deck seating in front of the tan brick and mortar villa. It was as though Ayan had stepped onto a holomovie set, she hadn’t spent enough time on well settled worlds to know if bricked houses were normal, though she’d seen plenty of them in holomovies from different eras. She’d seen more movies with characters that lived in fabricated homes, however, and she could only assume that hand crafted buildings came at a much higher price.

  She wasn’t certain whether or not she was looking at a rich home until she caught a glimpse of Victor and Jenny’s faces. They were in absolute awe. The man in the white coat emerged from the front of the shuttle before it soundlessly rose back into the sky, and he invited them with a gesture before walking into the villa through a thick wooden door.

  Ayan just took the place in for a moment, looking down the stairs to the beach where there was a small area with a bubbling pool, a pair of shower poles. Then there was the beach. The last time she’d seen that much water she was on Pandem, and it was from afar. From where she sat on the terrace, she could hear the waves, and in only twenty steps she’d be at the water’s edge. Crystal blue water extended from the shore line all the way to the horizon, and she couldn’t remember seeing anything that looked more cool or pure. She could have sat there watching the waves, the sun warming her face, for hours.

  The heavy doors opened to admit a woman with a mane of curly black hair, wearing a loose beige tunic over dark leggings that looked like they were made of interwoven strips of dark cloth. One of her wrists was adorned with several thin gold and platinum bracelets, and only her engagement and ring fingers were bare, the rest had one or more rings each with modest stones. Her dark eyes took them all in with a glance, and she regarded them with an easy approving smile. Half way to the table she stopped and silently looked over her shoulder.

  A gentleman in a loose fitting long shirt and shorts was at her side with his ear tilted to lips in seconds. She whispered to him in a quickly spoken language that seemed to allow no hesitation.

  Ayan started to look at her wrist but her question was answered before she had time to find out for herself. “She’s speaking old Earth Italian,” Victor informed her in a whisper. “She’s saying-“

  The man Patrizia spoke to nodded and returned to the house. “I was telling him that you should have drinks in front of you,” she finished for Victor as she sauntered, her boot heels clicking against the bricks, over to the fifth seat at the table and took her place. “I am Patrizia Salustri, welcome to my home.” She regarded everyone in a smooth sweep of her eyes from left to right, her gaze came to rest on Ayan.

  “This is Laura Everin, Victor Davis, and Jenny Machad.”

  “And you are Ayan,” she added. “Who are these people to you?” Her accent was smooth, strange, matching the language they heard a hint of the moment before. Her diction was careful, intentional and clear.

  Ayan almost stammered as she went through the list; “Laura is my closest friend and our best energy field technician, Victor and Jenny are my personal guards and crew members.” The woman had a way about her and a direct intensity that she was sure was made only more penetrating by the fact that she hadn’t looked away from her eyes since she sat down. Always, Patrizia’s mysterious gaze was peering directly at Ayan.

  “They are important enough to know everything we say?” Patrizia asked, her voice just above a whisper.

  “I trust them,” she answered simply.

  Patrizia said more with a raised eyebrow than most people could manage in half an hour. “You are close to your people. It surprises me, I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry?”

  “My assumptions come from the holograms, where they speak of you as though the people around you are nothing, replaceable. Again they have everything wrong, but I couldn’t find anything about you.”

  The clinking of ice in tall glasses heralded the delivery of a decanter and five iced teas. The fellow in the long shirt and shorts made no eye contact as he transferred everything from his tray to the table with practiced efficiency.

  “Thank you,” Laura said quietly.

  The fellow tucked the tray under his arm, nodded shoulders deep at Laura and departed with long strides.

  “Now we speak about important things,” Patrizia invited. “Where is Jacob Valance?”

  The question caught Ayan completely off guard and she hesitated.

  “Why did he give you everything? His ship, his people, why?” Her questions had a solemn weight.

  “I can’t say,” Ayan said in as reassuring a tone as she could manage.

  “You speak for him, you are his messenger.”

  It took a conscious effort for Ayan to answer indirectly. “I make decisions for the entire crew.”

  Patrizia nodded slowly, her eyes searching Ayan’s face as though trying to glean extra meaning from her expression. “He trusts you,” she said in a hushed tone. She let the silence grow thick before she sighed and nodded. “He trusts you.” She took Ayan’s hand and looked at it a moment. “You were the one who gave him his scarf.”

  Ayan’s breath caught, and time seemed to suspend. Who was Patrizia to him? Her first supposition was that she was a past lover, and no matter how much she wanted her thoughts to jump to another possibility, it wouldn’t change tracks.

  Patrizia looked back up at her and her eyes momentarily widened. “I have not seen him in years,” she explained. “He was always very good, we only met one time. I asked him about the scarf, and he wouldn’t explain it. You must understand, when I ask someone something, they answer, it has always been this way. He was gone before I knew him.”

  “Sounds like him,” Laura said with a little smile. “Well, sometimes.”

  Patrizia leaned back in her seat and picked up her iced tea. “You have important things to discuss.” Laura, Victor and Jenny all relaxed when their host sat back and sipped. It was an unconscious reaction, but a welcome one.

  Ayan’s head was still spinning, but she cleared her throat and pressed on. “Yes, and I’m hoping you can help. We need somewhere stable to land for repairs and rest. We’re going to have to put up temporary shelters while we work as well. I may be able to affo
rd to rent the slips we need until we can start privateering. Then I’m sure we’ll be able to earn enough to stay there if the location works out.”

  “You don’t have to pay. You trade.”

  “I’d really rather pay our way, I don’t want to owe anyone anything.”

  Patrizia, in what seemed to be a common gesture to her, but one Ayan found unsettling, took her hand again. “No, you’ve come here, to my place and we are speaking. You will stay on my land where everyone will see and you will pay by helping me with your fighters. You’ll do this for me when your ships are out of the wastes and you’re ready to fly again.”

  The woman’s tone conveyed her words as belief, as though this was the way the future would be and it couldn’t unfold differently. Instead of bargaining, Ayan found herself asking; “Where would you put us?”

  The woman opened her other hand, palm up and a hologram of the landing fields. Several slips in the older side were highlighted. The image focused in, showing a small depiction of the space that included a serviceable hangar large enough for several of their larger ships. Three shipping containers were already being lowered into place at the opposite end of the lot. It was just barely large enough, and there was a small township of older buildings nearby as well. Ayan could also see what the woman meant by; ‘where everyone will see.’ It was a fairly central location.

  “Why?” Ayan asked. “This almost feels like charity.”

  Patrizia’s expression darkened a little, and she deactivated the hologram. “You are Ayan, and you have the best fighters here,” she made an all encompassing gesture with her free hand. “People think that Jacob is with you, and look, look at your armoured people,” she nodded towards Jenny and Victor. “You have your own army, and people already speak about you cutting the weaker ones away. They come into the cities looking for a way to leave, and weeping over how their old lives are gone while you and the people you keep move on. You find a way to live without stopping to blame the world. You are beautiful, strong, and I know that you can pay me quickly if you have time to repair, and while you fix your ships we can get to know each other. See if we can work together.”

  Ayan was moved by the woman, she would admit later, but there were some missing details that made her nervous. She squeezed the woman’s hand slightly, a gesture that earned a little smile, and spoke with near desperation; “I need a price Patrizia. Whether I pay you with the coins I have right now or with the product of a raid in the future, I need to know what all this is worth so we can both agree when our debts are paid later.”

  There was a little disappointment in the other woman’s expression for a moment but then she nodded. “I understand. You are very good at this.” She touched one of her bracelets and Ayan’s command and control unit blinked with a new message.

  Ayan glanced at it and nearly turned white at the price as it was initially listed in United Core World Credits: 3,600,000 every 30 days. Beneath it was the price in Molecularly Stamped Platinum Bullion, or Galactic Currency: 120,000 GC, which was sobering to say the least, but possible. She looked into Patrizia’s expectant eyes and smiled. She was so nervous she could feel her palms sweating, but she did her best to cover it. “I’m going to pay you eighty thousand GC every thirty days.”

  Victor nearly choked on his iced tea, but his antics didn’t distract Patrizia, whose eyes widened. To Ayan’s relief, the woman presented a counter offer through a smile. “One hundred ten.”

  “Ninety thousand,” Ayan countered.

  “One hundred five.”

  “Ninety two.”

  Patrizia’s smile didn’t fade, but her eyes narrowed to slits. “Ninety five, and I can tell everyone you are on my land.”

  In that moment Ayan understood something very important about the woman in front of her; she had to win, she had to take possession of things. “Agreed, and I hope we can work together in the future. It’ll take a little time for us to be ready, you understand. We have business of our own to settle first.”

  “Yes, you will have time.” Patrizia leaned forward and kissed Ayan on the cheek before fixing her with a big smile. “Welcome to Tamber. Welcome to my home.” She let go of Ayan’s hand, leaving one of her rings behind on her middle finger.

  Ayan hadn’t even noticed the woman put it there. It was a platinum piece with a gold lion’s head.

  Chapter 26

  The Infirmary

  "I don't know who was down here, but they're gone now." Said Sergeant Masterson as he picked his way though the infirmary. "Left a lot of corpses behind though."

  "I count three whole squads," informed Private Elaine Patterson. "They started calling him The Butcher on comms before they restricted unit to unit cross talk."

  "Put a lid on it, Patterson. The last thing we need is to get superstitious." The darkened alcoves, empty beds and instrumentation kiosks provided too many places for the enemy to hide. Their personal lights lit the corners too briefly for anyone's comfort, and there was always the back trail. From what they had heard the squads didn't see the Butcher coming. When he hit comms went dead, squad members’ stats flat-lined, most of the soldiers were found later, decapitated. It hadn't been done with a firearm, the Butcher used some kind of garrotte. A micron thin, strong line that cut through their armour after the considerable application of physical force.

  It sent a shiver down Sergeant Masterson's spine, but he'd never admit it to his squad. "All right, fan out and set up camp at that nurse's station there. We're going to hold here until they can get reinforcements on site. I'm doing another sweep of the inner perimeter."

  "Alone sir?"

  "Don't worry Ackers, I won't leave you alone in the dark, Patterson will protect you," Sgt Masterson soothed.

  "Find a plush teddy for Ackers, check," Private Patterson teased.

  "With me, Carson," Sergeant Masterson ordered. "Of course I'm not going on a search without someone to watch my back," he muttered.

  There were closed rooms surrounding the central organization and treatment area in the infirmary and they all had to be checked. The first two doors opened easily. Carson was a powerhouse, addicted to the weight room and fitness supplements. When it came to pulling doors open with gripper handles, he was the man. They had the first four rooms cleared in ten minutes, then they ran into a locked door.

  "I'm picking up a single female's vitals inside. Looks like we're about to have a prisoner," Sergeant Masterson said with a grin.

  "Maybe we should call the rest of the squad?"

  Masterson looked over his shoulder briefly and shook his head. "Naw, the readings say she's at rest. She's not the Butcher."

  Carson shrugged and pulled a motorized pry bar from his pack. With deft, practiced hands he busted the lock and forced the door. In one smooth motion he put the pry bar in his pack and had his rifle back in hand.

  Sergeant Masterson was already inside. On the bed in the centre of the modest sized treatment room laid a black haired woman. "Wow, sleeping beauty or what?" He whispered as he scanned her through the sight of his rifle.

  "You want me to leave you two love birds to get acquainted Sarge?" chuckled Carson.

  "Why not? This tour's been a hell of a wash so far, may as well make a memory."

  "You kids have fun," Carson said as he turned his back to the door.

  Sergeant Masterson slung his rifle and took off his gloves, eying the sleeping young woman from head to toe. He stroked her face and pressed his cheek to hers. "You should be in pictures, sweetheart. What're you doing way out here on a stolen ship?" he asked in an intimate whisper. A panel above the bed came to life, listing broken bones, ruptured organs and a course of treatment ending in the current status: REGENERATION COMPLETE INITIATING WAKE SEQUENCE.

  “Looks like you're all better,” he smiled as he pulled the insulated sheet down slowly, baring her nude form.

  As soon as the hem of the sheet reached her middle she woke with a start and snatched it, kicking and retreating. He took a firmer hold on the sheet
and pulled harder, winning the battle on the second yank, thrilling at the struggling young woman. Her cries for help and terrified, dark eyes were enchanting. "Just a taste. I'll leave you in one piece," he begged mockingly.

  "Get offa me! No!" she screamed. Her eyes focused on something behind her then, and a sudden shuffle followed by the sickening sound of something sliding through meat and bone filled the room.

  Masterson whirled around in time to see Carson's headless corpse drop to the floor. He brandished his rifle as he frantically searched the room. “Someone help, he got Carson. I think he’s still in the room, but I couldn’t see him,” Masterson shouted desperately. Sweat coated his palms and forehead.

  Something bumped into him from behind. The wire was around his neck. He could hear the impossibly thin, lethal strand of the garrotte sawing through his armour. He kicked, grabbed at the monster’s hands and tried to turn away. "Son of a bitch! You won't get me! You won't-" His struggling was useless. The butcher pulled harder, and as he started to break the skin his feet came off the deck. No amount of struggling would save him, but he writhed regardless.

  "You're not worth this life. I'm taking something you never deserved," he heard the Butcher whisper through clenched teeth the instant before one final pull of the wire separated his head from his shoulders.

  Ashley was frozen in stunned shock as Larry pushed the headless body of her attacker towards the door. He decapitated both soldiers like a man born to killing. It was like watching the grim reaper at work, and she would have never expected it of him. He was her copilot. A quiet, thoughtful, soulful friend who never got tired of listening to her go on about anything she liked. He even laughed at her jokes, which she knew were hit or miss.

  Seeing him kill like it was second nature, like it was what he was born to do, it was unbelievable. He deactivated something on his wrists before going to her bedside and hurriedly asked; "Are you okay?"