The Knockabouts

by DK Williamson

  She smiled. “I’ll make do.”

  . . .

  Hugh stood near the dais speaking with Rory and the members of the council when a hush came over the crowd. A parting of people made clear someone approached. It was a woman of Hugh’s age and height who smiled when she saw him.

  “Nice to see you, Hugh,” she said. Her eyes twinkled.

  The gambler walked to her and took her offered hand. They spoke quietly.

  Ursula’s eyes welled with tears. “She still loves him,” she whispered.

  “Of course she does,” Tell said quietly. “Leave them be. They have a lot of catching up to do and we have plans to discuss.”

  . . .

  Teller relayed the information Tyrrell and Brabham had provided.

  “Do you think this ‘rat’ as you put it might be this ‘Feng’ mentioned in the data we have?” Jessop said.

  “There’s one way to find out.”

  “By finding this Peachy Lewis?” Ursula said.

  “That’s right.”

  “He’s a Makreury?”

  Teller shook his head and smiled. “No, he’s Makreury, like me and you. You gotta learn the rules, Urs.”

  She gave him an irritated look. “Okay, explain.”

  “Hugh’s a Makreury by name, but he’s also Makreury, meaning he’s in the club so to speak. Get it?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “So we’re Makreury, but not one of us is a Makreury? Makreury as a name isn’t enough.”

  “Right.”

  “So we can trust Peachy.”

  “Right.”

  “Is this our only option?” Ned asked.

  Teller shook his head. “I’m sure Hugh will have an idea or two.”

  “Speedwell,” said Ord.

  “There’s that. He’s got people that can rake over the data we have. Crack the Altairie data pad too.”

  “Is Speedwell Makreury?” Jessop said.

  “No. He’s a wildcat techmech and engineer… and a lot of other things.”

  Ursula shrugged. “Techmech?”

  Ned raised an eyebrow. “A spacer slang term for an ace ship technician and mechanism repairer. What about these other things?”

  “Suffice it to say that he does work on vehicles of just about every sort, flown by beings of every sort. Let’s leave it at that.”

  . . .

  Teller and his companions returned to the area near the dais and found Sorcha and Hugh sitting next to one another speaking.

  “—took me a long time to come to grips with it all,” Sorcha said. “ ‘Old ways are the best ways,’ was the refrain for my entire life. They told me you failed to meet the brideprice, but I knew better. You would not have returned if you had not. Still, old ways said I was to follow, so follow I did. Old ways said marry a man I didn’t love, so marry I did. Old ways said the pain in my heart was the price of our traditions, so endure I did. Years later, the pain was still there, but by then my heart began telling the old ways to shut up. I thought of leaving, of just walking away, but there was work to be done and minds to change… so I set to it. I found I wasn’t the only one that wanted a change. In time, our numbers were bigger than those that wished to keep on with the old bad ways. Orkney passed, my father as well, and that opened a path.”

  Hugh smiled and nodded. “So you brought it to the council and sent the old line packing.”

  Sorcha smiled in return. “It’s not over, but things will never be the same old way again. We can keep the best and discard the rest. That might not have happened but for you.”

  “Me? I’m but a gambler with hopes and a knot in his heart.”

  “And what of Teller?” she said with a look at the spacer. “Whose doing was that? Fruit and its falling proximity from trees comes to mind. I doubt the outcome would be as satisfactory but not for him… and you.”

  Hugh looked to Teller and signaled him to approach.

  “You played your hand and it came up golden, lad. The luck of a fighter pilot?”

  Teller elbowed Ord. “I had an unbeatable hand and an opponent who wouldn’t fold. It was the play you would have made. A play you always said to look for. You owe me, Mak. On my head be what might transpire. Your words.”

  Hugh grumbled with a twinkle in his eye. “Somewhere deep down inside you lies a cold, cold gambler. A cold-hearted businessman too.”

  “It was all that nurturing and misparenting I received in my formative years.”

  “Aye, and you never thank me for it either. Despite your lack of appreciation, been thinking about your situation. I may know a way and a somebody that might help you. Nikira, works for Hyper, the media company on Vicimere. She be kin and a friend, so mind your manners.”

  “Of course I remember her, Daisho’s daughter. Vicimere? That’s a mega population planet in the Clarion Confluence. I’m trying to stay out of the light, Mak.”

  “You want to clear your name? If you’ve proof of your innocence, the media can do it a lot faster than planetary governments will and spread it far and wide. If Nikira will help you, and she will, the authorities might just drop the issue if they think it might be the popular move. You must have something the media types can sell though, even if it’s not proof. Besides, in the Clarion, it’s easy to hide in plain sight.”

  “You gotta point. Thanks, Mak. For everything.”

  “You’re getting sappy on me.” He smiled. “When you get clear of this, come visit an old man, all right?”

  “What about me?” Gus said. “What do I do now?”

  “You want to learn the art of gambling, you’ll learn the art of gambling, unless you’ve found something better.”

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  “Then you go with me as agreed.”

  “There’s always merc work,” Teller said.

  “I had enough of the soldier’s life. I have a hunch gambling’s safer.”

  “Gambling can get you killed just as quick as being a merc,” Teller said.

  Hugh smiled. “Only if you don’t tread lightly and fail to survey the landscape. Be cautious, look around, always deal from the top, and don’t ever let pride keep you from walking away.”

  Tell nodded. “It’s that last bit that kept me from becoming a gambler.”

  Hugh patted Teller’s arm. “That wasn’t all, but at least you recognized it. Besides, you’ve got heavy-G there to drag you away before you get in too deep.”

  “You need us to take you somewhere?” Teller asked.

  “No,” he said with a glance and a smile at Sorcha. “For the first time in a long time I can follow my heart.”

  Teller rolled his eyes. “Now who’s getting sappy?”

  . . .

  A sizable group of people gathered at the hatch leading into the Me-and-Her to see off the group from the Lance.

  “Tell, there was commo chatter tha’ the remnants of the old liners are looking to jam ye and yer mates up,” Devlin said.

  “How so.”

  “By squealin’ about where ye be and what ye done with tha’ neuro fellow on Idor Station. They be wishin’ to put heat on ye.”

  “That’s Norm’s doing I’d bet.”

  “And a sound bet it be. S’not just ye. They be lookin’ to hurt anyone they can, like children throwing a tantrum. Thing is, ye be the one with a price on yer head and heat on yer backside.”

  “Then I guess we better clear out before they arrive somewhere they might spread the word. Thanks, Dev.”

  He smiled. “Clan and kin, Tell. ‘Sides, it was worth the price of admission just to see ye thump ol’ Norm again.”

  “That was Ord.”

  “You set it up,” Ord said.

  “The big man’s right and I wasn’t just talkin’ the bloody nose. Been a long time comin’, and this day was the time. Ye done us all good.”

  Once aboard the Lance, the five made preparations to depart.

  “We can add Vicimere to our meager list of options,” Tell said after preflight checks were complete. �
��I’m sure Hugh was correct about Nikira helping us, but I’d rather not involve her if we can help it.”

  “I’d think the media option might work,” Jessop said, “but I agree, let’s pursue the Feng angle if it’s viable.”

  “How well do you know this Nikira?” Ursula asked.

  “Very well, but it’s been some time. I haven’t seen her in years, but she was the closest thing to a sibling I had. Her father died when she was young so her aunt and uncle took over… more than I can say for my family, but Hugh visited her often.”

  “So you pulled her hair and hid her toys?”

  “She’s a Morlok, so no hair to pull and she was too dexterous to steal from. It was her doing the hair pulling and toy stealing.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “The things Devlin mentioned… if they go through with that, what happens?” Ursula asked.

  “They’re done, that’s what,” Tell said. “I’d be tempted to go after them myself, but the rest of the Makreurys will do it for us. There’s honor and blood involved. They agreed to abide by the results of the Dispute, one they set up. You think we have heat? This will become a blood feud. They’ll have it worse than we do. Still, we’ll have to wait and see what they’re up to.”

  “What about us?”

  “Not much would change. It’d give the hounds a place to start sniffing, but this is a gas cloud and there aren’t a lot of witnesses to buy clues from.”

  “You know,” Jessop said, “I was very tempted to change my identity and join up with some of those folks.”

  “Me too,” Ursula said.

  “I as well,” Ho said.

  “It might come to that,” Teller said. “But first, let’s go see Peachy about a rat.”

  Despite their precarious situation, the beings aboard the departing ARC Lance felt refreshed and happy, even if a bit melancholy at leaving their friends—old and new—at the Latchup.

  Ursula placed her hand on Ned’s arm. “So you’re Ned the ‘Neer now?”

  Jessop laughed. “I am. You?”

  “Ursula the Fair.”

  Teller laughed. “Those looks of yours got you off easy, Urs.” He looked to his right at Ord and Ho. “You two?”

  “According to Noggin, I am the third Mech to be declared within the clan’s history.” He gestured at his inhibitor plug. “Despite my limitations, I am Ho Mechreury,” the Mech said with a cant of his head.

  The four Humans laughed.

  “Ord?” Jessop said.

  “Ord is Ord.”

  “Your name is your moniker?”

  “Yes.”

  Teller laughed again. “After seeing how you treated Norm, I doubt anyone wanted to risk getting similar treatment. Personally, I would have suggested AsterOrd, Punching Bag, or Thumpy, but they didn’t ask.”

  Ord rumbled a chuckle.

  “So we’re in agreement about going to find Peachy first?” Teller said. “He is the closest and he won’t be in the Gnor system forever, but if anyone has a better idea….”

  “The more information we have about each of our options the better,” Ursula said. “We can commit once we know more.”

  “I agree,” Jessop said.

  “Peachy’s contact might be under some time constraint as well,” Ho said.

  “Then we’re off to Gnor.”

  . . .

  Teller, Ned and Ursula made their way to L’Mamba’s, a tavern on the Perkin Station in the Gnor system. A call to the PS Dardanal—Peachy Lewis’ ship—when it emerged in-system from slipspace was all that was needed to set up a meeting.

  “He’s a good man,” Teller said over the noise as they wound their way through the crowd on the tavern floor. “A ‘give you the shipsuit off his back’ type. A little nebula-minded though, so his thoughts have a tendency to go all over.”

  “Freighter man?” Ned asked.

  “Mostly. Sometimes buys and sells.” Teller spotted him and waved. Peachy was an older man, weathered and worn, but obviously still fit and vibrant.

  “ ‘Bandoned! Last fellow I thought to see here,” Peachy Lewis said with a big smile.

  Teller smiled in return, not just at seeing an old friend, but that Peachy knew enough to keep recognizable names from the greeting.

  “I’m ‘the Wing’ now.”

  “Ah, the Latchup. Catch me up on the affairs Makreury.”

  “That might take awhile.”

  “I’ve got time.”

  “All right. Let’s find somewhere to sit.”

  Teller introduced his companions and then spent several minutes relating the recent events from the Latchup, but stayed clear of the issues with Altairie for the time being.

  “Ty said you have a nice gig going,” Teller said.

  “I do. Three actually. Haven’t had a dead head run in a month! Cargo every transit. Gnor to Brooks to Sessler and back to start it all over. Fresh produce from Gnor to Brooks. Poly blocks from Brooks to Sessler. Building materials from Sessler to Gnor. Running ragged, but making a mint. It’ll be over in thirty or forty days, so I can rest then.”

  “Peachy is your moniker?” Ursula asked.

  He laughed. “No, it’s my given name. Fuzzy’s my moniker.”

  “Because of the fruit.”

  “Someone who gets it! Lovely and smart. You’ve got a leg up on most, milady.”

  Teller pointed at Peachy’s left hand, a robotic prosthesis, something the man didn’t require the last time they’d seen one another. “When did you get the new hand?”

  “A year or so back,” he replied with a sour look. “The Hendoo, ever deal with’em?”

  “No.”

  “Well don’t. You know what they done to ol’ Peachy? Cut my left hand off, that’s what.”

  “Why?”

  “Taxes. Got some new hardliner wazoo calling the shots over there. Said I didn’t pay’em. I did. Showed’em the receipt, but it was missing a stamp or squiggle or signature or something. Same as stealing to them, so shing went the blade and a botic hand for ol’ Peachy. Called me a heretic or infidel or heathen or something of the sort. Wasn’t cheap either, this botic hand. Said I have a difficult complexion to match, but truth be told, it’s better than my right, but still, you know. I stick to the predictably corrupt or honest places now, and strictly secular. Say, you get that Altairie thing cleared up? Heard they was looking to lop off more than a hand.”

  “No. We were hoping you might help.”

  “I don’t know what I can do but give you some advice. Fly to the far side of Confederate space and hope no one recognizes you. Maybe get one of those smuggler’s transponders. The programmable kind, you know?”

  Teller suppressed a smile. “Sound advice, but there’s one other thing you can do.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You told Ty and Brabs about a being shopping Altairie data.”

  “I did! Almost forgot about it. A fellow shopping data, but his position went weak on him when word got out he had heat. Likely your situation kicked that off. Those bargaining with him used it to push the price down, Last I heard, he was still shopping. Smart, Tell. Sell what you have and take the credits and run.”

  “Can you find this guy?”

  “No. If I could find him, those looking for his head could find him too.”

  “Any ideas on how we locate him?”

  “He won’t be found if he don’t want to be found. But I know how to contact him.”

  Tell grimaced. “Why didn’t you say…” he paused and sighed. “Can you tell him we’d like to talk to him?”

  “If it helps you, sure. Next run to Brooks system.”

  “When will that be?”

  “I’d be on my way if I weren’t talking to you.”

  Teller laughed. “Well don’t let us keep you.”

  “Can I finish my caffeie? Living on the stuff. Say, you be here when I get back?”

  “We’ll stay in-system.”

  “The run doesn’t take long, twenty, twenty-two hours or so. Be
back tomorrow.”

  . . .

  Peachy was back the following day as he predicted and they agreed to meet at the same place as before.

  “I get hailed as soon as I’m in system,” Peachy said. “This data rat was waiting for me. He knew I had something to do with the Makreurys and it seems Norman and his little band of twits are venting plasma about you. Putting word out there’s a price on your head. This guy heard about it and wanted to know if I knew how to contact you.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him I did. He said he’d contact you near Factus Station over Tagamo in two days if you were interested in talking. That’d be tomorrow now. Factus is a manufacturing station in the Sessler system near Syndic space if you didn’t know.”

  “Been to Tagamo before. Go on.”

  “Well, then you know. Gave me a com channel you’re to use. The traffic around Factus makes it easy to get lost in the shuffle.

  “Well then, we’re headed for the Sessler.” He thanked Peachy and wished him farewell.

  “We should change the ship credentials in case word’s out,” Teller said as they made their way back to the Lance.

  . . .

  “Director Sodall, you asked for us?” Julia Nephron said as she led a small group into the man’s office.

  “Yes. I been through the summary you put together and would like to discuss it.” He looked at the group for a moment and then gestured at the seating area across the office. “Hector has yet to return?”

  “He should be here tomorrow, sir.”

  Sodall sat placing his data pad on his lap. “This bounty hunter… Hell? She nearly had Raik and her compatriots?”

  “That’s correct. They were able to overpower her and escape. A feat from what I understand. She is considered most competent.”

  “She was by herself, yes?”

  “That is correct, sir, but I am told many in that occupation work in such a manner.”

  “I’ve heard the same. That concerns me. Perhaps we should add another dimension to this situation.”

  “Sir?”

  “Gotmil.”

  “As efficient as they are, they do not apprehend fugitives, sir.”

  Sodall smiled. “I am well aware of that, Julia. They have always provided Altairie with efficient service. A simple elimination should become an option to those pursuing our fugitives. It matters little if they are killed or caught. It matters little if it is one of our contracted agents or not. What matters is a swift end to this affair. Increase the reward, offering a higher payment for capture to demonstrate our interest in the pursuit of justice. The option of elimination and a greater financial incentive should result in the unleashing of more hounds. Yes?”