by Mark Wandrey
Vince tried to stick it out, and failed. Murdock tucked him into his bunk just after midnight. He’d given the kid a single hundred ml glass of beer, after he’d had three big pieces of kraken, and he was out like a light. Around 2:00 a.m., the guests began to drift back home in twos and threes. It wasn’t until he helped Sharp carry the bucket of samples to the flyer that he realized the fourth seat was empty.
“Where’s Shannon?” he asked Sheela. “I figured the kid would have loved this.”
“She’s too much the teenager to appreciate such an adult affair,” Sheela said. There was a certain look in her eye as she regarded him. “I didn’t think I needed a chaperone.”
“I don’t know,” Murdock said, draining a beer. “I can be kinda wild.”
“Oh?” she asked. “You don’t say.” She handed Jerry Sharp her key to the flyer and whispered something to him. The older man raised an eyebrow but nodded as he climbed aboard with his wife.
“How are you getting back tonight?” Murdock asked as the flyer’s engines spun up to a scream.
“I’m not,” she said.
“Huh,” Murdock said with a grunt, then grinned like a kid.
* * *
Much later, Sheela’s warm curves were pressed up against Murdock’s side. He hadn’t been as relaxed since…well, since Jane Wheeler. He pushed the thought away as Sheela teased his chest hair and used a finger to trace the still-healing scar tissue on his left shoulder.
“How many times have you been cut and shot?” she asked in the dark bedroom.
“I’ve lost track,” he admitted. He’d once kept a mental record, but had long since given up. He knew how many times he’d almost died from injuries, though, especially since it had only just climbed to six.
“So much pain and suffering,” she said, and shifted slightly to take his right hand. The missing finger disrupted his hand’s natural aesthetics. He wasn’t used to it, either. As she shifted, her breasts slid along his side, the nipples drawing lines of pleasure. He began to wonder if he could give it another go. “Why do we do it?”
“Do what?” he asked.
“Kill for money.”
“Because we’re good at it,” Murdock said. “You ever talk to any alien mercs?”
“I’ve only ever talked to a handful of aliens,” she said, “ and none of them were mercs.”
“Many of them share similar histories,” Murdock explained. “The MinSha had numerous wars for supremacy within their clan structure. The Oogar fought for honor, and it’s fucking easy to insult an Oogar’s honor. Many of the others had various scattered tribes and governments, like ours.” He gave a little sigh. “I’m the only one in my family to ever become a merc. My mother was really disappointed.”
“Then why’d you do it?” she asked.
“I had a really good VOWs score. A recruiter from the Four Horsemen, Asbaran Solutions, gave me a hell of a spiel about taking on the ultimate job and reaping incredible rewards. I was a poor kid from Little Rock, Arkansas, Sheela. Even back then, the government stipend from merc taxes didn’t do much. But those guys were rock stars.” He gave a shrug. “I went to their cadre training center.”
“You started out as a Horseman?”
“No,” he laughed. “I washed out in two weeks flat. The training sergeant wrote a good review, just not good enough to hold me. I signed on with Archibald’s Slingers, though, a light assault company, and made it to buck sergeant there. The rest, as they say, is history.” Her eyes reflected in the dim cabin light as she regarded him. “I did do a hitch with a Horseman, though. Cartwright’s Cavaliers. It was my last gig.”
She was silent for a long time, and he began to think she’d gone back to sleep when she spoke. “You killed all those thugs in Atlantis, didn’t you?” He looked down at her, unable to read her expression in the near darkness. “Just like you killed the pirates.”
“Yes, I did,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because it needed doing.” He thought for a second, then added, “Also, all the people those bastards killed needed a payback, your husband included.” She was quiet again for a long time. “Does it change anything?” he finally asked.
“No,” she whispered. “I just wanted to know.”
He gave a little grunt and smoothed her hair. “Anyway,” he said, “I haven’t heard a peep about any more trouble.” Her hand strayed down, and he realized he wasn’t too old after all.
* * * * *
Chapter Three
The skiff rode on its hydrofoils, cutting smooth lines through the ocean as it raced toward Pinnacle Island, still just a black line on the horizon. Sheela was reclining on the bench at the rear of the fantail, the 120 kph slipstream whipping her hair back and a huge smile on her face. Murdock took a sip of tea from the rear of the cabin as he watched her. She looked over at him and winked, drawing a grin from the ragged old retired merc. He winked back and went into the cabin.
Vince was at the controls, a scowl on his face as he watched the navigational instruments. When he’d walked into Murdock’s room and saw he wasn’t alone, the kid had been pretty miffed.
“You still pissed?”
“Why’d she stay?” Vince asked. Murdock appreciated his no-nonsense approach.
“Because we’re adults,” he explained.
“So?”
“So we had sex, kid.”
Vince’s head came around, and his jaw hung down in surprise.
“You can’t tell me you don’t know what that is,” Murdock said. The kid’s cheeks burned bright red, and he turned to stare out the windscreen. The repair in the windscreen Murdock had made weeks ago was still visible as a distorted patch. “Yeah, I thought so.”
“I don’t see why you…I mean, her there…”
“Look, kid,” Murdock said and came up next to him. “I like you. You saved my ass and all. I’m enjoying taking care of you, and all the stuff I’ve been teaching you.”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“No,” Murdock admitted, “it isn’t.” Vince looked at him, confused. “I’m going to say to you one of those things adults say to kids that they hate to hear. You’ll understand when you’re older.”
“Shit,” Vince cursed.
“Language,” Murdock reminded him. “Just because Sheela and I are…” What were they, exactly? More than friends, less than a couple, for sure. “…intimate with each other,” he said, struggling with keeping it at a level far below what he would have said to a fellow merc, “nothing will change between you and me. You’re still my friend. I’m still going to take care of you, and you’re still going to live with me.”
“What if you two get married?”
“Woah,” he said and held up his hands, “easy there, kid. I ain’t been married, and ain’t plannin’ to. Maybe never. Even if it did happen,” he put a hand on the kid’s shoulder, “it wouldn’t change the situation between you and me.”
“Promise?” Vince asked, his eyes full of the innocence of youth. It touched Murdock’s heart that there was any innocence left, after what the boy had been through.
“Promise,” Murdock said. Vince smiled and nodded.
As the skiff rocketed into Atlantis’ harbor, it passed the fishing fleet on its way out with the morning tide. With the tidal surges being so large, it was doubly important for the fleet to take advantage of it. Murdock and Sheela waved from the fantail as they passed Shell Game II. Captain Orlan was on the bridge wing, waving his hat back at them.
The former pirate skiff was now one of the most recognizable boats on Valais. Murdock had given it a coating of Cartwright’s blue and a matching Cavaliers’ logo, just to set it apart from its former black. With the majority of local boats being trimaran jobs or single-hull knife edges run by batteries, the catamaran with dual hydrogen fuel-cell powered hydrofoils was about as distinctive as he could get. Murdock felt a little like a tycoon back on Earth, running around in a luxury yacht.
Soon Vince set the boat down on
its hull and brought them into the harbor, smooth as could be. He got better every time they took the craft out, and soon he’d be just as good as Murdock. Of course, that wasn’t saying much; the old merc wasn’t much of a pilot, in space or on the water. The skiff, though, had a lot of computer redundancy, which made it safer than most.
Murdock took the controls as they came up to the public moorings, and Vince again handled tying them up. He gave Sheela his hand to help her ashore. Murdock was glad to see their talk had been taken to heart. He meant it, after all. No matter what happened between him and her, he was committed to taking care of Vince. He owed the kid.
Murdock climbed up on the dock, and she surprised him by wrapping him in her arms. Their lips met, and she squeezed him tight. “Thanks for a great night.”
“You aren’t afraid anyone will see us together?”
“Why would I be?” she asked.
“Half of Atlantis thinks I’m no better than the pirates.” It was true, of course. There had been three hearings before the local government. Detective Tyrie had tried everything he could think of to get him arrested on charges of illegal merc activity. In the end, none of it had worked, and the planet’s attorney general refused to indict him. The 200-plus fisherman and merchants who’d packed the meeting hall, and hundreds more out in the street during each hearing who’d come to support him, probably had a little bit to do with it as well.
Even though the strongarm operation in Atlantis was gone, and the pirates operating in the ocean were, too, the environmentalists who’d helped back the efforts hadn’t given up. They protested and made noise regularly. Their efforts were ineffectual, though, compared to what Murdock had put down, so he left them alone. Every time he came to town, a couple of them would hurl curses and threats at him. He ranked it no more threatening than getting the finger from an ant just before you stepped on it.
“You coming by the shop today?” Sheela asked after the kiss.
“No.” he said, “I need to pick up some stuff for the cabin. Unless you need me?”
“Nope.” she said, “The kid I hired is doing a fine job. Nobody to beat up.” She leaned close. “Thanks to you.”
“All in a day’s work,” he said.
“Glad there’s no more of it,” she said.
“Me, too,” he admitted, then he nodded. “Me, too.”
They unloaded two coolers full of kraken meat and hailed an electric cab to load them into. The remainder of the catch. She’d sell it quickly. Though not as good as it was last night, if not eaten within twenty-four hours, it would be inedible.
“It’ll sell fast,” she said. “Usual deal?”
“Sure,” he said, “25% is yours.”
“Thief,” she said and winked, then she was off with the cab.
“Come on, kid,” he said to Vince. “Let’s get the fucking shopping done.”
“Language,” he reminded him, and Murdock laughed as they walked up the pier toward town. Neither noticed the solitary figure watching them from a small pier-side coffee house. The man’s eyes narrowed as he examined the skiff and its markings. After a minute, he dropped a credit chit on the table and followed the pair into town.
* * * * *
Chapter Four
Four hours later, Murdock was sitting in a small restaurant just off the main fish market, two kilometers from Atlantis’ starport. Vince was greedily devouring a plate of ice cream while Murdock read a message from Earth.
After his encounter with his sister Ruth upon returning, Murdock had written her off as a total loss. The encounter with her, the ungrateful attitude she’d had toward the money he’d sent home for decades, and the huge sum she’d gotten when he was reported dead… He’d returned her indifferent attitude by tossing a grenade in the aerocar she’d bought with his insurance money.
Murdock figured he’d never hear from her again, so he was more than surprised to get an email from another Murdock on Earth. Edgar Murdock. He almost deleted the message when it arrived out of hand. He didn’t know any Edgar Murdock, after all. Only, someone had spent a few credits to send it, so he read it. The first line surprised him the most.
Uncle Abraham, I’m Edgar, your nephew.
“No shit?” he mumbled and read on.
I’m sorry I missed you when were here, but Mom didn’t tell me you’d been here. I’m mostly sorry because I wanted to thank you for paying for my school. Grandma took a percentage of every credit transfer you made after I was born and put it in a fund for my education. When Grandma died, Mom tried to get at it, but I was already eighteen years old, so she couldn’t.
I know Mom’s a hot mess, but she’s your sister, and she’s also my mom. I still love her. I was mad you blew up her car when I heard about it, then I got more of the story from a cop you’d talked to, and I understand more now. Mom shouldn’t have wished you were dead again.
Well, I hope you’re doing okay, wherever you are. I also hope maybe you’ll send a message back. I included a prepaid message credit just in case you can’t afford it. If you want, tell me where you are, and maybe I’ll come visit sometime?
Good luck,
Edgar
The message stamp was signed “Sgt. Edgar Murdock, Crimson Wave, Portuna Star System, Jesc Arm, Praf Region.”
“I’ll be damned,” he said after he’d read the message a second time. Vince glanced up from his ice cream, then went back to it right away. He hadn’t kept up with his family’s happenings while away for decades as a merc. He’d always sent 10% of his paychecks back to his mother, guaranteed to keep her in a good lifestyle. Unlike many mercs, Murdock had never made the megabucks. He didn’t have the right instincts to chase those kinds of checks. Still, it covered all the bills and then some.
He wondered why his sister had never mentioned having a kid. Probably because she didn’t know who the father was. Ruth had been a slut from the moment she grew boobs. Murdock had fought a lot of fights trying to defend an honor she’d never had. Brothers were supposed to stand up for their sisters, regardless of their inability to keep their legs closed. He knew she’d had abortions, so the question was why not that time? Murdock shrugged. It was a something he’d never know, because he wasn’t going to ask.
So, part of the money he’d sent to his mom had been put away for Edgar from an early age, and Mom was smart enough to know that Ruth would try to steal it. Apparently, the young Edgar also followed his much older uncle as well, because he’d become a merc. Crimson Wave was a successful merc company specializing in defensive contracts. Edgar had also risen to the rank of sergeant. Not bad kid, not bad.
Murdock did something he rarely did; he accessed the AetherNet with his slate. Computers and their domain weren’t his thing. He’d been struggling to teach Vince some of what he knew. Taking a trip into the twenty-second century version of the internet wasn’t something he liked to do, beyond checking his credit balance or booking a room.
At the dawn of humanity’s voyage to space, following first contact with the Buma in 2025, the internet had been adapted to be more accepting of data from the GalNet, the information network maintained by the Information Guild of the Galactic Union. The result was the AetherNet, and it merged with the GalNet fairly seamlessly. As he understood it, data packets whisked around the galaxy on every starship moving through stargates, constantly carrying exabytes of data which updated the AetherNet seamlessly and behind the scenes. Yeah, whatever.
In the AetherNet was a lot of data on humanity. Contracts, credit status, and personal information. He found the entry for Edgar Murdock and read what was publicly available. Excellent VOWs scores, went to a private merc leadership academy after graduating from high school, then directly recruited by Crimson Wave out of the academy. He’d been serving with them for nine years.
“And on the far side of the galaxy,” Murdock said. Slowly, a grin grew across his face. The Murdock name was continuing to be something in Earth’s merc tradition. That made him feel good. On the question of sending a mess
age back to Sergeant Edgar Murdock of Crimson Wave, he’d have to think about it.
Murdock slid his personal slate into a pocket and eyed the menu, thinking about some ice cream himself. Only, he was feeling something he hadn’t felt in quite some time. A tingle up the back of his neck. Without being obvious, he stretched his back and worked his neck around. With the same move he got a good view of the immediate area. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. He sat for another minute and considered. Am I just getting twitchy in my old age? He guessed it was nothing, maybe just missing the action.
When Vince was finished with his ice cream, Murdock collected him and headed over to the government center. He had some business that needed doing in connection with his status as mayor of Tahiti. He should have sent the kid back to the skiff with the supplies they’d purchased, but had decided against it. Do him some good to see government in action.
“Yes?” asked the young woman manning the front desk in the government building. He’d never seen this person before.
“I need to see coordinator Melvic,” Murdock said. Vince stood back by the benches arrayed along the front wall of the room. Like most of the government buildings in Atlantis, this one had started life as a massive cargo module on a bulk freighter. A big, rectangular, metal box. It’d had doors and windows cut into it after landing to serve as temporary housing. Now, decades later, it had again been repurposed to act as government offices. Just like government in general, it was boring and unimaginative in its appointments.
“Coordinator Melvic oversees all the outlying settlements,” the obviously bored woman explained. “She’s very busy.”