Pew! Pew! - Sex, Guns, Spaceships... Oh My!

by M. D. Cooper

  Triple-galvanized neutronium alloy plating over a treated Gronth-hide jumpsuit. Tough, yet flexible. Sturdy enough to resist blaster pistol file, but light enough not to affect speed or agility.

  The Mark Five was the pinnacle, of course, but even that was really just a tweaked version of the Mark Three with a few more pockets and a bit more juice in the shock gauntlets.

  “This? I don’t know, Larry,” Konto said.

  Larry snorted. “Ha! No way, you’re way too fat for that.”

  Konto looked at the armor’s waist, then patted his own. Much as he hated to admit it, the kid had a point. Larry gestured to a sales counter in the corner, where a tall, heavily-built guide was cowering in fear. “I thought maybe that guy.”

  A brief, one-sided negotiation later, Konto pulled on the guide’s shirt. It was a little on the large side, but he rolled up the sleeves and tucked it into his borrowed pants, and decided it would do the job.

  “What are we going to do now? Go after them?” Larry asked.

  “We? We’re not doing anything, Larry. It’s too dangerous.”

  Larry nodded grimly. “You’re right, Mr Garr. We need to find security. Real security, I mean.

  “No,” said Konto. “I’m going to get them back. Me. Not us. Not you. Me.”

  Larry frowned. “You? How can you get them back, Mr Garr? I mean, no offence, but don’t you take out the garbage?”

  Konto wriggled his feet back into his wet boots. He’d tried wearing the guard’s shoes, but they were ridiculously huge and his feet kept sliding around inside them.

  “That’s right, Larry. I take out the garbage. And that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “The arm blaster!” Larry yelped. He pressed his hands against the display case, as if he could reach right through the glass. “We should take the arm blaster!”

  Konto started to shake his head, but then stopped. If things went wrong—and they would - the blaster could come in handy. Besides, it wasn’t like he was stealing it, exactly.

  “Good idea, Larry,” he said, retrieving a fragment of the buckled doorframe from the floor. “Stand back.”

  Konto hefted the metal in his hands a few times as Larry hurriedly jumped back, then he swung it with all his might.

  CLUNG.

  The metal vibrated in his hand, shaking his entire skeleton. The glass remained intact, the blow not leaving so much as a scratch.

  Konto gritted his teeth and waited for the vibrations to stop. Larry, meanwhile, turned to the guide, who was now sitting on the floor in Konto’s dripping-wet clothes.

  “Hey, can we get the arm blaster please?” he asked.

  The guide raised his eyes to Larry. He looked across to Konto. He shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “Why not?”

  Larry watched in a hushed, reverend silence as the guide opened the case and withdrew the arm blaster. He held it out to Konto, who hesitated for a moment, then took it. Konto turned the weapon over and over in his hands, taking it in.

  “You put it on your arm,” said Larry. “Here, I’ll show you.”

  “I know how to use it,” said Konto.

  Larry raised his eyebrows. “Really? Well, I’ve got a whole datastack of schematics for the Magister’s equipment, so I think I know best.”

  He reached for the arm blaster, but Konto raised his out of his reach. “Oh, you think?” Konto said, slipping the dented metal cuff over his arm. He flexed his fingers and the cuff hummed, just briefly and only faintly, then a series of pinhead-sized green lights illuminated along his inner wrist. It took all his willpower not to blast something, just for the fun of it.

  But the Xandrie had Deenia, and ‘fun’ wasn’t on the agenda.

  “OK. I mean, I’d have done it better,” said Larry, shrugging. “But yeah, that’s how you switch it on. If you need to know anything else, just ask me.”

  “You’re staying here with this guy,” said Konto.

  “What?” said Larry.

  “What?” said the guide, whose day was already bad enough, thanks very much, without babysitting duty being added on top.

  “You’ll be safe here,” Konto told him.

  The guide seemed to brighten at that. “Will I be safe, too?” he asked.

  Konto nodded. “They got what they came for. They wanted the kids. I don’t know why, but I’m going to find out.” He shrugged. “Or I might not ask. Never really cared about the ‘why’. But my point is, nothing’s going to happen to you here, Larry. You’ll be safe.”

  A blaster bolt erupted through the guide’s chest, spattering Larry with his blood. Larry blinked rapidly for a few seconds, then threw up. Konto caught him, mid-puke, and spun him to the floor just as another bolt of energy streaked overhead and ricocheted off the case containing the armor. Konto was quietly pleased that the glass didn’t break even with a direct blaster strike, but then the air above him was filled with scorching beams of energy, and the museum echoed with the high-pitched pewp-pewpews of a rapid-fire blaster rifle.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “I don’t think we’re safe here, Mr Garr!” cried Larry, ducking and covering his head with his hands as the blaster fire streaked by.

  Konto caught the boy by the arm and swung him behind the armor case. “Stay down!” he hissed, then he waited for a break in the gunfire and jumped to his feet. A bulky Xandrie with oversized pecs and an undersized waistcoat stood just beyond the shattered museum frontage, hitting the cooling flush on his rifle.

  Seizing his chance, Konto raised his hand, took aim with the arm-blaster, and unleashed Hell.

  At least, that was his intention. There was no satisfying thunk of the blaster round ejecting from the chamber, no frantic scream of the energy bolt tearing through the air, or explosive ker-splat of innards becoming outtards.

  Instead, a small red LED light illuminated somewhere near the front, and an in-built speaker emitted a tinny-sounding poo-poo.

  “What the fonk?” Konto muttered, gazing at the device in horror.

  “I think it’s fake, Mr Garr,” Larry whispered.

  “Oh, really, Larry?” Konto spat. “You don’t—”

  The Xandrie’s rifle stuttered into life again. Konto spun on his heel and took cover behind the reinforced glass as round after round ricocheted off it.

  “Shizz,” he spat, searching frantically for an exit. There was only one door in and out of the place, though, and it was currently blocked by several hundred pounds of heavily armed bad guy.

  “I suggest you boths come out, ya?” called the Xandrie, easing back on the trigger. “Or I blow you boths to bits, I think.”

  “What do you want?” Konto shouted out to him.

  “I want you boths to come out. I think I am already saying this.”

  Konto muttered under his breath. “Why?”

  There was another spray of blaster fire. Larry let out a whimper. Konto couldn’t exactly blame the kid.

  After a few seconds, the shooting stopped again.

  “Fine. If you must know, we just want the boy. That is all. Send him out, and maybe I won’t be shooting you, ya? How does that sound? Maybe you just send him out, and he and I walk away, and then you can go home, and not be dead. Ya? Is good idea, ya?”

  Konto looked down at the useless blaster on his arm. He looked at the boy, cowering at his feet. “Stand up, Larry,” he said.

  Larry, to his credit, didn’t argue. He stood up. “You’ve got a plan. Right, Mr Garr?” he whispered.

  Konto nodded, but didn’t meet the boy’s eye. “I do,” he said, then he placed a hand on Larry’s back and pushed him out of cover and into the sights of the Xandrie. “I’m sorry.”

  “Excellent! I knew we could be coming to an agreement,” said the Xandrie, the words coming out almost as a giggle. “Come to me, boy,” he said, beckoning Larry closer. “Come. Ya? Come.”

  Larry’s wide eyes gazed up at Konto. “Mr Garr?”

  “Go, Larry,” Konto said, sliding the hunk of metal junk of his arm. “You’re not
going to hurt him, are you?”

  “We don’t want to. All we want is the ransom,” said the gangster. “But if anyone tries to mess with us, we will fonk this kid up, and all his little buddies, too. Because we are the Xandrie, and no-one messes with—”

  The arm-blaster cracked him between the eyes. His nose somehow succeeded in both exploding and imploding at the same time, and as he began to topple backwards, his hands grasped for something to hold him up.

  All he found was the trigger of his rifle. Konto threw himself at Larry, knocking the boy aside just as a staccato burst of blaster fire drowned out the gangster’s groans. There was a sizzle of flesh, a brief hiss from Konto as one of the bolts scorched his ribcage, and then the Xandrie hit the ground with a thud.

  Silence followed. Larry cowered, hunched-over, Konto draped protectively across him. Several seconds passed while they both figured out if they were still alive and, if so, how many pieces they were in.

  “Thanks, Mr Garr,” Larry whispered, once they’d both come to the same conclusions—‘yes’ and ‘one’.

  “No problem, kid,” said Konto.

  “I mean, it would’ve been nice if you hadn’t sent me out to him in the first place …”

  “I needed intel. This is a ransom gig. That’s good news.” Konto stood up and took a half-second to check his wound. The heat from the blast hard torn him open, then sealed him shut. It probably hurt, but not enough for him to pay attention to it.

  “Everyone’s been kidnapped, Mr Garr,” said Larry, quite slowly, as if breaking bad news to an in-denial idiot. “That doesn’t seem like very good news.”

  “It is,” Konto said. “Ransom means they’ll keep them alive. This could have been terrorism-related, they might have been on a slave-gathering expedition, they might have been on a food hunt for a Drickon Pus Queen …”

  Larry looked like he might be about to throw up again. Konto quickly changed the subject. “Point is, a ransom gig is a pretty positive result, all things considered. It means they’re alive, and it means we get them back.”

  Larry’s eyes lit up with delight, and Konto quickly realized his mistake. “I. I can get them back.”

  “We! You said ‘we’, Mr Garr!”

  “I mean I.”

  “Uh-uh, you can’t take it back!” Larry said.

  Konto grunted and headed for the exit. The Xandrie was flat on his back, arms and legs splayed wide, groaning in his sleep. “Well, I can take it back, actually, and I am,” Konto said. “Slip of the tongue. I’m going to leave you somewhere safe.”

  “You mean safe like this place was safe?” Larry asked, very deliberately looking in the direction of the dead guide.

  Konto stooped and retrieved the Xandrie’s blaster rifle. The charge icon was flashing red. Barely enough left for a single shot. Still, that was all he needed.

  “Larry, shut up and look over there,” Konto said, gesturing to the broken fountain.

  Larry did as he was told. “What am I supposed to be seeing, Mr Garr?” he asked.

  Behind him, a single shot rang out. The Xandrie stopped groaning.

  “Doesn’t matter,” said Konto, appearing behind him and steering him away. “Now come on. Let’s go shopping.”

  * * *

  The thing with a station this size was that it operated much like a large city. Despite the carnage and chaos on the culture deck, just a few decks below, life continued as normal.

  Konto stood at the counter of the store, an array of weapons and gadgets spread out before him. On the other side of the counter, an officious-looking semi-transparent orange blob peered over the top of his half-moon glasses and sucked disapprovingly on his rubbery bottom lip.

  “Come on, I’ve got the money, you can see the credit balance, just take it and give me the guns.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir,” said the blob. A cheerfully-designed name badge lodged into one of the folds of his neck identified him as ‘Gump’. He was, allegedly, ‘happy to help’, although this was not currently in any way apparent from his attitude or behaviour. “The scan reports all large-scale purchases must be authorized by …”

  “My wife, I know, you said, but she forgot to change it, is all,” Konto said. “I don’t go off-planet much, she does most of the shopping … what can I say? I really need these guns.”

  “Mr Garr?”

  “Not now, Larry.”

  One of Gump’s eyes flitted down to the weapons, while the other remained fixed on Konto. “All of them, sir? It’s rather a lot.”

  “Yes, all of them!” Konto snapped, then he squeezed the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. “OK, so with my purchase limit, what exactly can I get?”

  Gump’s other eye joined the first in studying the weapons.

  Several seconds passed.

  Gump clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth a few times, then reached under the counter and produced a small folding knife. “You could have this, sir.”

  Konto stared down at the little red handle, the blade tucked neatly inside. “What?! That’s it?” he asked. “Seriously?”

  “Mr Garr?”

  “Not now, Larry.”

  “Well, no, not just that. There is one other option,” said Gump, tapping a pudgy finger against his chin as he thought.

  Konto’s eyebrows raised. “Oh?”

  Gump nodded, then set a second folding knife on the counter, next to the first. This one had a blue handle.

  “You can have either,” the shopkeeper said. He raised an index finger. “But not both.”

  Konto gritted his teeth. His fists clenched, but relaxed when Gump very deliberately reached for the ‘panic’ button.

  “Fine,” Konto growled, snatching up the red knife. “I’ll take this one.”

  “Mr Garr?”

  Konto’s temper got the better of him. “What is it, Larry?”

  “I could pay for them.”

  Konto blinked. “What?”

  “I don’t have a credit limit. I can pay for them.”

  Konto’s eyes narrowed, darting from side to side while he decided if he could let a seven-year-old pay for his arsenal. It didn’t take him long to make his mind up.

  “OK, then let’s do that.”

  Gump sucked in his bottom lip.

  “Oh, what now?” Konto demanded. “Does he need permission from his wife, too?”

  “I’m afraid the young sir is not old enough to purchase weaponry.”

  “But he isn’t purchasing weaponry,” Konto pointed out. “I’m purchasing weaponry, he’s just paying for it.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not how the law sees it, sir,” said Gump. “My hands are tied.”

  “Come on—”

  “My hands are tied. Were they not, I would be delighted to be of assistance, but they are, and I can’t. My hands are tied.”

  Konto glared at the shopkeeper for several long moments, then he picked up a phone-sized gadget from the counter. “Fine. Is he old enough to buy this?”

  Gump nodded. “Would you like me to wrap it for you, sir?”

  Konto briefly contemplated wrapping his fingers around the shopkeeper’s bloated neck. “You know what? I’ll pass. Pay the man, Larry,” he said, flicking the switch that turned the device on. He turned to leave, paused, then turned back and gestured to Larry. “Oh, and, uh, I don’t suppose I could leave him here with you for—”

  “No, sir,” said Gump. “You categorically cannot.”

  * * *

  Konto strode out of the store into the throngs of shoppers, tapping at the screen of his new device with such force little round rainbows bloomed under the glass. He mumbled and cursed as he walked, and barely heard Larry as he dodged through the crowds, hurrying to catch up.

  “I guess this means you’ll have to take me with you, right Mr Garr? Huh, Mr Garr? Right?”

  “What? No, Larry,” said Konto. “You can’t come, and that’s all there is to it.”

  “But—”

  “
It’s too dangerous, Larry. And I work alone.”

  “I thought you worked with the other garbage guys?”

  Konto shook his head, just briefly. “What? No, I mean, yeah. I do. But I prefer to work alone.”

  “You wouldn’t even know I was there, Mr Garr,” Larry whispered. “I can be very quiet. Listen, I won’t say anything for the next five minutes. OK? OK, Mr Garr? OK?”

  “OK, Larry! Kroysh!” Konto snapped. “You still can’t come, but I absolutely will not complain if you just stay quiet for a while.”

  Larry fell into step behind him and managed to keep his mouth shut for almost three seconds. “I guess your wife doesn’t let you have much money, huh? Why is that? Doesn’t she trust you?”

  Konto scowled, his eyes still fixed on the screen. “What? Of course she trusts me!”

  “Are you sure? Then why doesn’t she let you spend her money?”

  “No, it’s not … I just don’t often … And what do you mean, ‘her money’? I have money. I have lots of money.”

  “From collecting garbage?”

  “No, from … I mean, yes. What? It doesn’t matter,” said Konto. The device bleeped once in his hand and he let out a little grunt of relief. “She’s alive.”

  “Your wife? I should hope so, Mr Garr, otherwise you’re having a really tough day.”

  “Deenia,” said Konto. “She’s alive. And I know where she is.”

  Larry stood on his tiptoes to see the screen. There was an outline of the station, with a blinking red dot somewhere near the middle. “Pretty much where I thought,” Konto said. “Midway between landing decks, deep near the center of the station so no-one can attack from space, but with an easy route to escape pods in case things go wrong.”

  “Is that Deenia?” Larry asked, gesturing to the blinking icon.

  Konto nodded. “She has a tracking device.”

  “Cool. She never mentioned it,” said Larry.

  “Because she doesn’t know it’s there,” Konto said. He shrugged. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

  Larry frowned. “Huh?”

  “Hmm? Nothing. Point is, we know where she is, so we … so I can go and get her.”

  “Wait. You put a tracking device on her without her knowing?” Larry gasped. He winced. “Ooh, she’s not going to like that.”