by Casey Lea
The t’ssaa’s crest sprang upright, but Blizzard faced it without flinching. The gold and blue crown was stiff with outrage and started to thrum with real fury. Engorged spines pulled taut until it jutted forward to frame its owner’s face and surround Blizzard’s head too. His peripheral vision was draped in shimmering scales, but the kres ignored them to concentrate on the upright pupils of his t’ssaa contact. He glared at the alien as the two stood toe to toe, poised and unblinking.
The t’ssaa’s tongue flickered, but it was present only as a hologram and presumably sensed nothing from its foe.
“Tssssahgsssssss,” it cursed, and Blizzard sniffed in response.
“Agreed. This anger serves no purpose. I truly regret my criticism, but an explanation is needed. I agreed to pay for Nightwing’s death. Why does he still live?”
“Zzzyt. Was not possible. We have use for kres too and ourss has precedence.”
The reptile’s crest settled with scarcely a rattle and Blizzard felt immediate relief. Confronting a furious t’ssaa was daunting, despite the distance between them. It was hard to be polite in response to such disappointment, but the slitted gaze of the reptile helped. Blizzard swallowed and then raised a finger gravely to show reluctant agreement with the decision to let Nightwing live.
“I thought ‘impossible’ never applied to t’ssaa,” he said carefully, but his contact’s eyes simply blinked in amusement.
“Does not,” the lizard agreed, “but ssome goalss need restraint. We wished to examine the sspesimen further and could not fight. We would have won, but the puny male might have known damage.”
“Which would have been most perfect,” Blizzard pointed out between freshly gritted teeth. “Delightful, in truth. I want Nightwing fully acquainted with damage. Where is the problem? I hired you to kill a single kres. I gave you his where-as-was so that you could find him for that purpose. I repeat, why does Nightwing live? What is this goal of yours?”
There was a moment of charged silence, interrupted only by an ominous rattle as the t’ssaa’s crest stirred against its neck. “We wished medical ssamples from healthy kres,” he finally admitted.
“Fine,” said Blizzard brusquely, ignoring the implications of that. His need to be rid of his rival was far more urgent than any t’ssaa plots. “Why not kill him after gaining your samples?”
“The possibility of damage remained and we did not have all we needed. If you do not ssend half payment now, we will accept ten percent as gesture of faith.”
“I’m not certain-sure I have faith. You’ve totally failed me in this. What fix do you plan?”
The crest leapt to full stretch again, thrumming to underline its owner’s angry answer. “We are t’ssaa. We do not fail on trade. You asked for death and we will give it. In our own time. Deadline was never sstipulated. We will find this male again. We will take what we need and you may have the head. This is good deal. Yess?”
“Ah.” Blizzard sighed softly, and then smiled for the first time since contacting the t’ssaa. “Yes, truly a good deal. I’ll send you ten percent now and the rest when Nightwing’s head is verified by my scan. Fair?”
“Tssah,” came the satisfied reply. “Fair it is. The head will come through our ssmuggler link.”
“Excellent. I’ll look forward to my mail. Good hunting, Payiss.”
“Alwayss.”
15
Assassination