Ice, Pirates, and Lace

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Ice, Pirates, and Lace Page 2

by L. H. Davis


  She stared down at Orin’s scaly hands, fondling her undergarments, as if debating whether she wanted the clothes badly enough to risk accidental contact with the man.

  Jax hoped she would take the clothes, and soon; accidental contact would be far superior to intentional contact, which was highly probable if she delayed getting dressed much longer.

  Nina reluctantly approached Orin and managed to remove her things from his grasp, touching neither him nor his defiled clothing. She stepped back behind the pilot’s seat and shook the garments violently, as if banishing any wayward creatures hiding within. In her haste to dress, Nina stumbled, tearing the waistband out of her lacey panties, so she slipped them nonchalantly into her pocket and continued to dress.

  Orin turned to Rastus—and grinned.

  Jax opened all of the compartments beneath the maintenance console to reveal the content. “Sorry gentlemen,” he said. “Looks like we’re all out of whiskey, but I always have a spare bottle in my office. Nina…you know where it is.”

  “Sure do,” Nina said, moving toward the climbing shaft. “You boys relax. I’ll be back in thirty minutes or so.”

  “I think not,” Rastus said, blocking her way.

  “Come on Razz,” Orin whined. “I ain’t had no whiskey in a long time.” He rubbed his mouth with a filthy hand, dislodging several pieces of unidentifiable debris.

  “It does sound pretty good,” Rastus mumble. He nodded. “We’ll all go in.” He took Nina by the arm, and said, “Orin, you go down first just in case this lady here slips again.”

  In the cargo bay, Jax and Nina pulled on their E-suits. They spoke no words, but Jax could see the anticipation in Nina’s eyes, and knew she would follow his lead when the time came. Nina and Jax walked in silence while the brothers discussed the virtues of good whiskey and cheap women. Motivated by the rousing discussion, Orin turned the conversation around by describing—in excruciating detail—the cumulative effect that bad whisky, and even worse women, had had on several of his more significant organs.

  Nearing the Compound, Jax maneuvered himself ahead of Nina to insure he would be the first to reach the airlock. Producing his ID card from his pocket, he swiped the badge through the card reader and intentionally entered the wrong security code. He then feigned irritation when the door refused to open. After repeating the charade a second time, Jax slammed both fists against the door.

  “My card is fucking hosed again. Try yours, Nina.”

  Stepping back far enough to allow Nina to reach the keypad, Jax watched over her shoulder as she swiped her badge and entered her code. When the door hissed, and began to open, Jax pushed her from behind.

  Nina struck the partially closed door with her shoulder, twisted, and fell through the opening, landing on her back on the floor of the airlock.

  Spinning, Jax shoved Rastus backward into Orin, who fell and slid backward on the ice. Jax slipped, as well, but managed to maneuver through the open door as he fell.

  Rastus went down on his knees, but caught the door before it could close and lock the men outside.

  After pulling Nina to her feet, Jax pounded the emergency override, which opened the inner hatch. Jax and Nina ran through the dimly lit Observation Room, which the day crew had secured for the night.

  The Compound was nearly a mile long, and three stories high, but the machine shop, storage area, and business offices filled nearly half of the available space on the ground floor. The public mall and recreational areas would still be buzzing with people, however, the nearest was beyond several locked doors and over a half of a mile away.

  “Get your ass up,” Rastus yelled.

  “I’m trying,” Orin said.

  Jax glanced back as Rastus pulled Orin to his feet. When the men entered the airlock, Jax lost sight of them, but the inner door was open. He could hear them clearly.

  “If they get away,” Rastus said, “I’m cutting your damn throat instead.”

  “Why you gotta talk that way, Razz?” Orin said. “I’m your brother.”

  “You’re my dead brother if you don’t catch ’em.”

  “Shit,” Orin screamed. “You bitch…you made me bleed.”

  “Move,” Rastus said, pushing Orin through the inner hatch.

  Jax turned Nina down the first intersecting corridor, hoping the brothers had not seen them. Metal containers and moving equipment lined both sides of the dimly lit passage, which led to a cavernous storage area.

  “We need to hide,” Jax hissed as they ran.

  Nina nodded as she ducked behind a small shipping container.

  Not there! Jax stopped and turned back, but the brothers were rounding the corner. Jax turned again and ran, hoping the men would follow him—and also that the large doors at the end of the hall were unlocked.

  Please. Please. Please. Ple— The impact knocked the wind out him and the doors failed to open.

  The brothers closed, huffing and puffing, but stopped a short distance away to catch their breaths. With their hands on their knees, the brothers glared up at Jax through tendrils of filthy wet hair.

  Rastus coughed as he said, “I ain’t running no more…asshole.”

  Orin could only wheeze.

  Their rancid breath saturated the air in the confined space at the end of the corridor.

  “If you want to live,” Rastus added, “you better tell us…where she is. And if you don’t…I’m a start slicing pieces off you…’til you do.”

  Reaching under his coat, Rastus pulled an exceptionally large knife from a scabbard on his belt. He rotated his wrist as he displayed the highly polished blade, which glinted, even in the dim light.

  Jax stared and nodded, because he didn’t have enough air in his lungs to speak. “Rass—,” was all Jax managed.

  Behind the men, Nina slipped out of hiding. Keeping her eyes on the backs of the brothers, she moved slowly and silently toward a cargo transport cradling a large steel pallet and portable generator. The structure, with its I-beam base, was significantly larger than the heavy machine beneath. Jax tracked Nina’s progress with his peripheral vision, being careful not to flag her presence by looking directly at her.

  Nina slipped behind the controls and swiped her ID badge through the card reader on the console. After keying her security code, she gently gripped the joysticks, one in each hand. Toggling back the left, silent electric motors raised the heavy load, and as she pushed forward on the right, the wheels beneath the transport began to roll.

  Distract and delay. Jax grinned at the brothers. “Sorry about the running, but I really wanted a few more minutes alone with her. You saw what she did to me up there. Man,” Jax said, forcing a laugh, “I was primed and ready. Hey, why don’t we make a deal. Give me ten more minutes with her, so I can take care of my business first…and then you two can have her while I go for three bottles of whisky. That’s fair, isn’t it?” Jax said as he glanced over their shoulders. The transport was gaining speed, but still fifty feet away. “I mean…you guys are brothers, so you must share a lot of women. Right?”

  Orin grinned as his hand shot up like a first grader. “Dibs on last.”

  “You moron,” Rastus said, taking a swing at him.

  Orin ducked.

  Seizing the opportunity, Jax dove and twisted in the air, landing on his back before sliding against the wall.

  Rastus was still in mid-swing, and off balance, but he sensed Jax’s movement and turned, spotting the huge structure bearing down on them. The pallet beneath the generator was nearly as wide as the corridor. Rastus darted one way, then the other, but seemed to question the wisdom of ducking beneath the load, which was fast approaching at eye level. Rastus froze, while Orin remained unaware.

  Jax rolled up onto his side and tried to mold himself to the wall when the generator passed over him. He held his breath as the chassis of the transport squeezed past his chest, pressing hard enough to crush the comm unit built into his jacket. Nina then locked the brakes and the wheels of the transport s
creamed against the polished floor. The driveshaft squealed and splintered, spraying shards of metal across the corridor. The transport stopped, but the generator and pallet continued, sliding cleanly from the lifting forks.

  Orin was oblivious to the approaching danger, but did seem to notice the three-quarter-inch steel rod when it emerged from his right eye socket after piercing the back of his skull. Rastus appeared to try to lift the structure, so that it would pass over him; however, the frame struck him squarely in the forehead, forcing him to hinge backward, unnaturally, at the waist. Orin and Rastus crumpled beneath the mass of falling iron, which then mangled their bodies against the metal floor of the Compound. Although a severed leg, once belonging to Orin, briefly danced a spastic jig, death was instantaneous.

  Jax jumped to his feet and backed away as the floor of the corridor disappeared beneath the spreading gore. His stomach threatened to rebel so he turned away. Realizing the carnage would have also traumatized Nina, he turned back, expecting to find her on the transport, but she was gone.

  “Nina?”

  Jax visualized Nina standing at the controls, with a joystick in each hand, and realized the sudden stop would have thrown her from the machine. He found her on the floor behind the pallet, unconscious, lying in the spreading pool of blood. Jax wasn’t sure how badly she was hurt, but he could find no obvious injuries. As he was checking her, Nina snapped awake.

  “What happened?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m great,” Jax said. “How do you feel?”

  “My chest hurts…and my arm…and my head too,” she moaned as she sat up. “Did they leave?”

  “I’m afraid not,” he said.

  Nina gasped and looked around for the men.

  “You’re safe,” Jax said. “It’s all right.”

  Noticing the blood, on and around her, Nina screamed.

  “It’s not your blood,” Jax assured her, although he wasn’t certain. “Nina…it’s theirs. They’re dead.”

  As his words soaked in, Nina looked again at her bloody clothes, and then back to Jax.

  “Get me out of this,” she said. “Help me.”

  Jax could hear the desperation in her voice, almost panic, and knew she would struggle if he tried to keep her down until a medical team arrived.

  Nina wobbled, but was able to stand. She turned, eyeing the pallet. She cocked her head to one side, as if she did not recognize what she was seeing. Nina then stiffened, and turned to Jax, but before she could speak the color drained from her face and her eyes rolled back into her head. Jax caught Nina as her knees buckled, taking the full weight of her slender body in his arms.

  He carried Nina to his business office, which was off the Observation Room, and laid her gently on the floor next to the couch. After peeling away her clothes, he wiped the blood from her pale body with a damp cloth, and was relieved to find no open wounds. Jax moved Nina up onto the couch, and covered her with a blanket from the backrest. He left her briefly for a fresh cloth, which he placed on her forehead. Her eyes fluttered beneath their lids, but she did not wake.

  Sitting next to her, Jax said, “Nina, tell me what to do.” He brushed the hair from her face. “You…and your innocence, are so beautiful.”

  Nina had a small lump on her forehead. Jax didn’t believe her injury was serious, although he doubted she would have fainted simply at the sight of blood.

  “Nina,” Jax said, tapping her cheek.

  She moaned but did not come around.

  “I think I could love you,” Jax said, “but I couldn’t let you get close…not while I was still feeding those bastards. But I couldn’t let them starve either…or murder them by reporting them.”

  “Nina,” Jax said, again tapping her check.

  Her eyes fluttered, and opened. She looked up at him and smiled. “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi. How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Like I drank too much,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut. Placing a hand on her forehead, she noticed the cloth. Her eyes opened. “Did I get sick?” she asked. Before Jax could answer, she smiled. “We must have had a very good time,” she said. “I don’t seem to be wearing any clothes. Did you have something to do with th—” She stopped and grinned. “No…you didn’t. I left them in the electronics bay. I was bad, huh.”

  “No,” Jax said. “You were beautiful.”

  Nina glanced around the room and back at Jax. “Why are we in your office?”

  “We had an accident,” Jax said. “A couple of men—”

  Nina bolted up right, moaned, and fell back. “I think I’m going to puke.”

  “Do you remember?” Jax asked.

  She nodded and began to cry.

  “Nina…do you think you can make it down to Medical on your own? They should check you out. I need to go back to the storeroom…and clean things up. If someone finds them, I could go to prison.”

  “I killed them…but you could go to prison. Why? Because you knew them?”

  “They were pirates, smugglers at best…and I didn’t report them…but I was also feeding them.”

  “They were scum,” Nina said.

  “You’re right, but I couldn’t let them starve to death.”

  Nina studied Jax for a moment, and said, “Go. I’m okay.”

  “You’ll go down to Medical?”

  She nodded.

  Jax kissed her forehead.

  “Ow,” Nina said. “You owe me a lot more than that.”

  “Meet me back here,” Jax said, getting to his feet.

  “Alright,” Nina said, “but I don’t think I’m going to be in the mood again tonight.”

  “No need to worry about that,” Jax said. “I just hope those jerks haven’t permanently damaged…my mood.”

  •

  Jax commandeered a second transport on his way back to the storage area. After towing away the broken machine, he lifted the bloody pallet and watched in horror as Orin’s head rose, still embedded on the steel rod. Jax turned away, and emptied his stomach onto the floor beside the transport.

  “Great,” he mumbled, “more mess to clean up.”

  Removing the slabs of flesh, bone, and muscle wedged into the frame of the pallet slowed the cleaning process, as did Jax’s fits of gagging. He sealed the mangled bodies into multiple bags, before loading them onto an empty shipping pallet and moving the brothers outside into the subzero night air. The warm bags of flesh quickly solidified into meaty blocks of ice.

  Those jerks left a slider around here somewhere.

  The men could not have survived the long walk from the crash site, so Jax assumed they had had a slider, a two-man hovercraft, aboard their ship. Taking a moment to consider the logic of the men, and where they might have been standing when they spotted Nina, Jax found the slider on his first attempt, behind the cafeteria—next to the garbage container. The brother’s final meal might not have been hot, or tasty, but it had been plentiful.

  Jax moved the slider around to the loading dock and stacked the brothers, one block at a time, into the foot well and passenger seat. Close to midnight, Jax maneuvered the slider out onto the ice sheet and entered the coordinates of the Vortex into the navigation computer.

  The Vortex was a phenomenon of unknown origin in the frozen crust of the planet. The ice had melted on a massive scale, only to resolidify as a downward spiraling slide with no apparent bottom. The Compound and Vortex were twenty miles apart but shared a common plateau of ice, which was almost perfectly flat for a hundred miles in any direction. Jax approached the Vortex cautiously in the dark, stopping the slider when he first noticed a consistent downward slope of the ice sheet—which screamed of the danger ahead.

  In the moonless night, the mouth of the Vortex was only visible by its absolute lack of substance. Jax reached beneath the pilot’s seat and removed the slider’s emergency lantern. He then placed it on the ice at his feet to free his hands for the task of unloading. The beam of the powerful light, highlighted by the lazy cr
ystals of a gentle snowfall, cantilevered into the free space over the mouth of the Vortex, but melted into the blackness before finding the rim on the far side.

  In daylight, the ice formation resembled a massive whirlpool of sky-blue water, frozen in an instant of time. The graceful flowing contours of ice, polished to a high sheen by the constant weathering of dry wind-blown snow, spiraled endlessly downward. The Vortex lacked all grace in darkness, however, appearing as nothing more than a massive black mouth, waiting to be fed.

  Jax shivered. “If that doesn’t look like hell frozen over…I’d hate to imagine what does.”

  Placing one of the bags onto the ice, Jax used his foot to slide the brother’s remains along the beam of his light. The package picked up speed as it disappeared into the darkness of the abyss. Jax waited, anticipating a resonance from the impact below. Although the night was dead quiet, the sound never came. The hiss of the sliding package only grew softer, until the sound was imperceptible.

  “I guess it really is a bottomless pit,” Jax mumbled as he shoved the next bag.

  Each slide was the same—never ending, only fading.

  With the last bag on its way, Jax slid the passenger door closed, and the impact alone caused the slider to shift downward along the slope of the ice. Had the slider not stopped Jax would have joined the brothers in the mouth of hell.

  “Shit,” Jax said as the slider came to rest. “Now what?”

  Jax debated leaving the slider, but didn’t believe the batteries in his E-suit would last the hike back to the Compound. Gritting his teeth, he slipped gently into the driver’s seat, and powered up the slider while simultaneously applying full reverse. The slider dropped a few feet further, before reversing direction and climbing the icy slope.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  III.

  LACE

  “NINA?”

  She started at the sound of her name, but then recognized Jax’s voice. “I thought you were leaving,” she said, turning to face him.

  “I’ve been gone almost four hours,” Jax said. “You promised you’d go down to Medical.”

  Nina sat, pulling the blanket around her. “Sit with me,” she said.

 

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