Kren of the Mitchegai

by Leo Frankowski

  "That happens. The trash probably saved herself two Ke by cheating you."

  "She charged me twelve Ke! If she'd wanted more money, she could have asked for more, and I'd have willingly paid it!"

  "Then she probably just enjoyed watching you endure the pain. Visit her, but don't kill her. Just cause her more pain than she caused you."

  "I am unfamiliar with civilian ways. Is such a thing permitted?"

  "I'm not sure that it's permitted, but it is surely commonly done. How else can the trash be trained to respect their betters?"

  "Thank you, Coach. I shall act on your advice."

  "Do it in a few days, when you are feeling back to your normal self. For now, on guard!"

  The rest of the fencing session went badly for Kren, and he was glad when he was sent out to the javelin field.

  A Mitchegai who always referred to herself as "The Master of Javelins" soon had her three dozen athletes standing rigidly in a neat line, with their eyes facing forward. Strutting like the martinet that she was, she started by explaining the rules of the games to them.

  There were four competitions with the javelin. One was the distance throw, to simply see who could make a standard javelin go the farthest. Each contestant got three throws, and only the longest one counted.

  The second was for accuracy. Each contestant had three throws at each of four targets, all shots counted, and the winner was the athlete who had the highest total score.

  The third was a game similar to the Earthly game of tennis, or ping pong, save that it was played with javelins, with the two opponents being required to catch any javelins that might fall within a designated area, and throw them back within two seconds. Also, the "net" was a solid wall half again taller than the contestants. The spectators could see where both of the players were, but the participants couldn't. This put a large element of luck into the game, but made it popular with spectators. The javelins used had blunt tips, for safety reasons.

  The fourth competition was played with two teams of six players each, and played on a much larger court. Otherwise, it was much like the two player game.

  Kren was taught the distance and accuracy games on his first day of training, and even though he was still drowsy from too much eating, and confused because of his new brain cells, after an hour with the new javelin, he did better than any of the other athletes present.

  Twice, he threw his javelin entirely out of the arena.

  The Master of Javelins called all of her athletes around before she dismissed them.

  "I want you all to stay silent about what you saw Kren do today. The rules permit any of us to place any wagers that we wish, except that we may not bet that we will lose, or that our opponents win. I plan on betting heavily on Kren at our first competition in four weeks. If everybody knows what he can do, the odds on him will go down to nothing. Enough said? Good. Dismissed!"

  As he was going back to the locker room, the master stopped him and said, "Kren, you are the best throw I've ever seen. But starting tomorrow, I don't want to see you throwing any more javelins out of the stadium. What we are going to work on is throwing just a little bit beyond what the next best man on the field has done. If you keep throwing half again better than anybody else, the betting on javelin distance throwing will drop to zero, and we'll all lose money. Do you understand that?"

  "Yes, madam. That seems to be a very sensible program to me."

  Never having admired or envied anyone famous, Kren couldn't imagine wanting fame, so setting records meant nothing at all to him.

  After a pleasant rubdown, he returned homeward.

  Once again he found that he was lost, but a memory from the last brain he had partially eaten told him that if he went down a certain nearby staircase, he could quickly get to the train station, from which it was a straight walk to Bronki's place.

  He soon found himself in an absolutely dark tunnel that he had never been in before, but which nonetheless seemed familiar. The complete darkness would have caused most Mitchegai problems, but Kren's nine gross years in the darkness of the mines had sharpened his other senses.

  This had nothing to do with any sort of hypothetical ESP. It was more a matter of being attuned to the slight rustling of clothing, the slight breeze of a body coming close to you, the echo of your own breath and footsteps returning from all that was around you.

  He felt, rather than heard or saw, two persons step out in front of him, and two more behind.

  "Stop where you are," a voice to his forward left said in the darkness. "Drop your credit card and all of your money on the floor, and you will be permitted to leave unharmed."

  "Giving you all of my money would be most inconvenient for me. I have had a difficult day, and I am not in the mood for further social interactions. Leave me alone, and I will agree to cause the four of you no harm whatsoever."

  "You are a fool."

  "No, I am a warrior," Kren said.

  "You have been warned."

  "So have you."

  Kren felt, or perhaps heard, them approaching. He dropped his book bag and drew his sword. He heard the one closest, to the front left, hesitate, and then he heard her draw her own blade. Of course knowing that all adult Mitchegai are exactly the same height, Kren stepped forward and made a horizontal swipe with his sword. He felt it connect with the neck, and heard the head separate from the body.

  Before he heard the head hit the floor, he heard a slight rustle of cloth as the second mugger in front turned to her right to look at the death of her coworker. This took her a fatal half second, and this was enough time for Kren to decapitate her as well.

  One of the muggers to the rear was running forward, but the way that the second hoodlum had turned her head to look troubled Kren. Sensing in the dark, one kept one's head facing forward. How could she see when there wasn't any light?

  He turned, took two steps back, ducked low, and felt a sword swinging above his body. His return blow was aimed to be just above the pelvic girdle, and he felt his sword go through the skin and heard the vertebrae sever, but then felt it stop before it was all the way out again. Not a perfect cut, but it was sufficient, having severed all of her major arteries.

  Above the cries of the dying third one, the fourth mugger could be heard, running quickly in the opposite direction. Obviously, she had chosen the course of discretion.

  Leaving the third one to bleed a bit, he went back to the first pair he had killed. Feeling around with his sword, he found one of the heads he'd removed from its body. Leaning his sword on top of the jaw, to keep it from biting him, he bent over and felt around the face. He found a pair of large and heavy goggles over the eyes.

  Removing them, he stood up and put them on. He was startled to find that he could see. Not perfectly, for everything was in blue, black, and shades in between. The focus was poor, with things looking fuzzy. Faces, hands and feet looked much brighter than clothing, he could make out the footsteps where he and they had stepped. There seemed to be a strange slowness between the time he moved his hand before his face, and the time that he actually saw it move.

  Nonetheless, with this device, one could see in the dark!

  With the possibility of more such interesting objects in the offing, Kren carefully searched the three hoodlums he had killed. Besides two more pairs of goggles, there were dozens of other weapons, pouches, and objects.

  Most interestingly, the first mugger he had killed had a pistol in a nicely tooled leather holster at her belt. Kren pulled it out and found that he knew precisely how it worked. The bits of brain he had eaten a few days before had been more useful than he had supposed.

  It seemed that a swordsman's normal desire to test his opponent had cost this mugger her life. She could easily have stood back and shot her supposed victim.

  Kren was strongly tempted to take a shot with it, but then decided that the noise might attract unwanted attention. And perhaps it was a fear of the noise that had stopped the mugger from shooting him.

 
A further search of the body revealed four filled clips, and an additional box of ammunition. For now, he put it with the holster and the special belt into his book bag.

  He managed to get most of his loot into his bag, and stuck the three new swords under his belt.

  Thinking that the fourth mugger might be finding friends to counterattack with, he left as soon as possible. Still suffering from overeating, Kren felt no desire for food.

  Walking down the tunnel, he came to a lighted section, and removed his goggles, placing them in his cloak above the outer belt. He soon encountered an old woman who begged him for money, saying that she was hungry.

  She was thin and shaking, but her problems looked to be drugs, rather than hunger. Kren did not feel pity, but he did want the evidence of his last encounter to be eliminated.

  "Go into that tunnel," he said to her pointing. "Bring along a dozen of your friends, if you wish. You will find a feast there sufficient for all of you."

  She thanked him, and scurried down the dark tunnel alone.

  On arriving at Bronki's place, he went directly to his room through his back door. Looking in the mirror, he was annoyed to find that his brand new academic cloak had been slashed from shoulder to knee, save where his student belt had protected it. This had happened without his having even been aware of it.

  He set down his book bag, dropped his student belt and cloak to the floor, put all four swords on his dresser, removed his inner sword belt, and lay down on the bed. It had been a difficult day, and he was tired.

  Before he had fallen asleep, Dol came in.

  "Is there anything that I can do for you, sir?"

  "Yes. Take everything out of my book bag except for the books, and put it all into a drawer someplace. Take my cloak out and see if it can be repaired. Then go away. I am very tired."

  "Yes, sir. May I take the liberty of turning off these thermal imaging goggles? If you leave them on, the batteries will run down."

  "By all means. Do anything else that you feel to be necessary, as well. But then go away."

  "As you wish, sir. May I comment on the rest of this booty?"

  "You may not."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Go!"

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  FROM CAPTURED HISTORY TAPES,

  FILE 1846583A ca. 1832 a.d.

  BUT CONCERNING EVENTS OF UP TO

  2000 YEARS EARLIER

  Payback

  The next day went much better for Kren, both in the classroom and in the gymnasium, although his classroom instructors all chided him for not having completed his reading assignments.

  And this day, he didn't get lost even once.

  He was back in his room, trying to catch up on his reading when Bronki came in.

  "Do I disturb you?"

  "I have two days of reading to catch up on, but a break would be welcome," he said.

  "Dol tells me that you encountered some difficulties yesterday, and I saw the cloak you were wearing. Did it have anything to do with the disturbance here a few days ago?"

  "I doubt it. I got lost on the way home, and ended up in a dark tunnel along with four muggers."

  "And what was the result of this?" she asked.

  "One of the muggers ran away. The others provided a feast for some beggars. I have their personal effects in a drawer here, someplace."

  "I would like to see them, if I may."

  "Dol put them somewhere. Ah, here. There are also three swords on my dresser that I haven't looked at as well," he said.

  After a while, Bronki said, "Kren, these goggles are worth over a thousand Ke a pair, although I advise that you don't sell them. They might come in handy. I am amazed that you were able to defeat the muggers when they could see and you could not."

  "I spent nine gross years existing in darkness. Living without your eyes for much of the time, your other senses develop."

  "Apparently, they do. This spring knife is something that could come in handy. A backup for my pistol. Would you be interested in selling it?"

  Kren took the knife from her and looked it over. "I didn't realize that this was anything but an ordinary knife. But there was a better one I got from the Greenies. Here, look at it."

  "Yes, this one is of better quality. Would you sell it?"

  "Properly speaking, you already own it, by right of combat. It was once the property of the Greenie leader that you shot and we ate, the other night."

  "And I didn't know that it existed. Thank you. That's one I owe you, Kren," she said, putting it in her belt. "Now, this pistol you've got here is very well made, and might be worth two thousand, with the extra clips and ammunition. Would you like to try shooting it? I know of an illegal target range where you could do that."

  "Indeed, I would," Kren said.

  "I'll set it up and let you know. It has been too long since I have had any target practice. I'll check the account balance on these credit cards if you wish, but for reasons I explained a few days ago, I'd advise that you don't transfer it to your account. On the other hand, these two pouches contain more than eight thousand Ke in currency. You could put it into your account, but I suggest that you don't. Credit card money is traceable, but currency isn't. Someday, you may wish to make an untraceable purchase."

  "Then I'll just put all of this booty back into the drawer, although you may examine the credit cards if you wish."

  "Thank you. I'll let you know if I find any use for them. Your cloak is being repaired, incidentally. It won't be as good as new, but it won't be embarrassing, either," she said.

  "This is good. Is there anything else happening that I should know about?"

  "Yes. I've found out how the Greenies got into my apartment. One of them had a credit card with a magnetic strip that had unusual properties. When slightly heated, the code on it changes to a different number. In this case, it was your credit card number, Kren. They used your number to gain access to my home."

  "Surely, you don't think that I would have willingly let them in!"

  "No, of course not. If you had, they wouldn't have needed the trick card. But someone who read your card gave them that number. In your military uniform, you were quite conspicuous, of course, and someone who was observing this place must have seen you come and go. I want to know the names of everyone who read your card."

  "Certainly. I'm sure that the bank knows my number. Then there was the college, and the book store . . ." he said.

  "No, the bank can be trusted. If they couldn't, they would be out of business in a day. And I know the university systems very well. They are secure."

  "Then there was the tailor."

  "Again, I doubt it. Leko knew that you are my friend, and she makes more money off of me alive than anyone would pay her for helping to make me dead," Bronki said.

  "And then the last is the brander. I paid her twelve Ke for an anesthetic that she never gave me."

  "That certainly limits the field, doesn't it."

  "It does. I would very much like to participate in questioning her. I have a certain score to settle with that girl," he said.

  "Your help will be welcome. I'll have to make some arrangements so that we won't be disturbed while we discuss matters with this brander. I'll keep you posted. Oh, yes. I've had to take your number off of the access list here. You must go to the bank and get a new card tomorrow, with a new number."

  "I had to do that anyway, now that my new brand has healed."

  Kren went back to his studies, feeling oddly contented.

  At fencing practice the next day, Kren said, "Coach, they tell me that you were once an all-planet champion. Why did you decide to go into teaching, instead of turning professional?"

  "Well, I did go professional, for forty-two years back there, until my body started to slow down as it got older. Then I taught for a dozen years before I decided to get into a new body and go back to being a pro, where the money is much better. But when it comes to being a champion, not all bodies are the same. The difference between bei
ng the best and being an 'also ran' is very subtle. Part of it is the physical body, part of it is the mind, and part of it is the interaction between the two. This body just isn't as good as my last one was."

  "I suppose that there's always a next time."

  "That there is," Dik said. "It goes for you, too, you know. Your next body isn't likely to be as good as the one you're now wearing. On guard!"

  The Mitchegai normally work a six-day week, with four days on and two off. On their equivalent of a late Friday afternoon, Bronki came into Kren's room.

  "I trust that you are free this evening?"

  "Yes, barring some school work, which I can do tomorrow," Kren said.

  "Good. I've made arrangements to have four particularly ugly individuals standing outside of the brander's shop while you and I have our discussion with her. They'll make sure that we're not disturbed. Be ready in an hour."

  "With pleasure."

  The four goons were standing in front of the shop when they got there, and let them in without comment.

  "So, you make branding plates and do branding, don't you?" Bronki said.

  "Yes, madam. What can I do for you?"

  "You can answer a few questions for us," Kren said, stepping in front of Bronki.

  The brander looked at Kren, and took a fatal second to recognize him. She quickly reached for something below the counter, but Kren was much faster. He had his sword out and hit the girl on the side of the head with the flat of his blade before her hand had moved a foot.

  "Yes, that's probably for the best," Bronki said as the brander collapsed.

  "She was trying to reach this thing," Kren said as he picked up a metal tube over a yard long. Pressing a small button on it, a yard-long blade sprang forcefully out of the end, converting it into a spear.

  "That's called a spring spear," Bronki said. "Take it home and add it to your collection."

  "I will. In the back room, she has the perfect place to ask questions," Kren said, picking up the brander.

  He stripped off her mauve tradesman's robe and kran artist's belt, which would have appeared black to human eyes. She was soon naked and strapped into the same chair that he had been immobilized in a week earlier.