The Rogue Wolf

by KT Belt

  A wispy, ghostlike image of a person appeared on the pad minutes later. After a few seconds, it was hard to discern the image from a real man. Charon was quite a bit shorter than Carson. His face was covered by a metal mask obviously designed to intimidate. Carson wouldn’t think much of it, except it tended to reflect his image in several grotesque distortions. It was such a simple thing, but for some reason the faux mirror was disconcerting. Charon’s clothes were just as wispy as his image had been. They were dark and tattered and hung off his body in a way that exaggerated every movement, making him look like he was always in motion. It was obviously just another part of the costume that was meant to intimidate.

  “We’ve sent your payment to the accounts you’ve specified. Have you verified the amounts yet?” Charon asked.

  “Yes, I have. It looks good.”

  Charon nodded. “We have a new target for you. Are you ready?” he asked, producing a PDD as he spoke.

  Carson took out his own and then waited. Charon sent the information. Carson could only blink in disbelief at what he read. “Admiral Lance Calbry?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me to take care of him at the same time as Admiral Wright?”

  “Could you have done it?” Charon asked simply.

  Carson thought about it for a minute. “No, probably not. I barely escaped as it was.”

  “We figured not. Frankly, I would take care of this myself, but I have other business to deal with. Will this be a problem for you?”

  “No, I don’t believe so.”

  “Standard rate?” Charon asked.

  “No,” Carson said. “I underbid the previous job. Double or I walk.”

  The image of the man was silent for a few seconds. “Done. Inform me when it’s finished through the normal channels. Our timetable necessitates no more than a standard month.”

  Carson nodded as the transmission cut out. Straight and to the point. If only every one of his employers were Clairvoyants.

  He left the room. Someone he didn’t know would be by to collect the pad. The bill for the room had already been taken care of. He exited the building from a different door than he entered, yet there was that odd feeling again. He looked around and, as before, there was nothing. Whether something was actually there or not, the feeling was enough to give haste. He was no Clairvoyant, but it did feel like he was being watched. No, it felt like something was stalking him.

  He gripped his pistol as he moved quickly and deftly through the city streets. It was always wise to heed odd feelings. He had planned to get off planet as soon as possible, even before the hairs on the back of his neck started standing on end. It was never good to stay in one place for long. He just needed to get to one of his stash houses and then book passage back to Earth.

  He was parked only a few blocks away, out in the open. He could already see his aerocar. Procuring the Corvette was probably the least nondescript thing he’d ever done. Its sleek, aerodynamic body and bright red paint screamed “HERE I AM!” better than any bullhorn. He always lied to himself that it was his way of hiding in the open, for what that was worth. At least it was fast enough to get him to various locations on the planet in only a matter of hours. The sportscar practically put any aircraft short of a starfighter to shame.

  It rose to ground-cruising altitude as he approached. Its onboard mood-sensing and personality-detecting devices automatically set the air conditioning to his subconscious preference. The turbine engine whined to life when he sat in the cockpit. The trip would be short enough to not need to leave ground level. He accessed the car’s communications gear to make a few arrangements on the way.

  “Thank you for connecting with Milky Way Starlines, the one-stop destination for all your travel needs.” Carson couldn’t help a small groan. He’d heard various starlines’ menu systems so often that he had almost memorized them. “Please be advised that, due to the ongoing war effort, travel restrictions may apply. If your travel plans are affected, please speak to a representative for assistance. Please say the destination planet or system.”

  Carson guided his car through traffic as he wondered what equipment he’d need. It would be too risky to attempt to break into Space Force Headquarters again. Any competent military would have found and fixed the weaknesses he’d exploited by now. He’d have to find another way. Maybe he could simply shoot Calbry on the way to his car or something? It was hard to be sure. He figured he’d take his usual kit with a little extra, just to be safe.

  “I’m sorry. Can you please state your destination?” the automated representative said.

  “Earth,” he barked.

  He was already outside the majority of the city. All he needed to do now was cross the bridge before he could get his equipment. The view was scenic and a tourist attraction, but he was in no mood to notice. He was still trying to figure out what kit he’d need.

  “Please say your desired departure time.”

  “Immediately,” he answered.

  The system asked another question. He didn’t pay it much attention. Instead, he wondered why traffic was slowing in front of him. People were abruptly swerving out of the way of something maybe a hundred yards ahead. He couldn’t see what it was. Such was his focus that he didn’t realize the hair on his arm was standing straight out. More cars swerved out of the way. He too began turning, since there was no point in staying put.

  Then he saw it—her. There was about thirty feet between them now. She wore a dark red hood and cloak. Clairvoyants and their theatrics… There was no doubt whatsoever that a Clairvoyant was what she was. He often wondered if the theater happened consciously or if it was just a natural part of their personalities. Either way, this performance was certainly having an effect.

  Her eyes were locked on his like a snake about to strike. For a moment, he could only stare back and tremble. Her stance was rigid, hard. He was well aware, in the back of his mind, that Clairvoyants limited themselves. She could crush his head like a grape with just a thought if she wanted to. That wasn’t likely to happen, though. There was some weird unspoken rule that Clairvoyants had to fight on their opponent’s level. He didn’t complain about that, especially now, since the only thing he had to defend himself with was a handgun. It may as well have been a water pistol.

  “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

  There was no question in his mind that he was her prey. He had only one chance. A flick of a dial on the control yoke vaulted the Corvette into the air. He pointed the sportscar toward open sky and then let all the power he paid for do its work. The aerocar was supersonic in seconds, the acceleration sinking him into his seat at least half an inch, despite the inertial inhibitor. Moments later, the city was a distant memory in the rearview mirror. He didn’t think even all that would be enough.

  A Clairvoyant really didn’t have a speed limit when they pushed themselves—at least, that was what people said. No one really knew. Almost everything about Clairvoyants was rumor and innuendo. He wished he’d asked Charon or some other Clairvoyant about it. For now, at least, she was still with him. The flickering gauges in his car were a clear enough tell. Another thing he’d heard was that Clairvoyants had difficulty breathing at high speed. Perhaps he could tire her out.

  His first instinct made him thunder the Corvette through a hard turn. The car had already transitioned to RACE mode and adjusted the inertial inhibitor accordingly. The turn grayed his vision even with the system, but it was comforting to know that Clairvoyants had no inertial systems and were just as physically limited as he was. If the turn didn’t black her out or even kill her, it certainly sapped some of her stamina.

  He turned again, waited a few seconds to open the distance, and then made another turn. The maneuver was so violent that he had to stop for a moment to catch his breath. Just then, a bright shaft of light streaked by his canopy. He cursed. She was still with him. He dove the Vette toward the ground and then shot it back up to a few thousand feet. Their
twists and turns brought the city in front of them again, barely visible on the horizon. He could just see its air traffic streaming at different levels above it like a multilayered blanket.

  Outright speed did nothing to avail him, nor did violent turns. The only other option he could think of was to climb. He pulled the control yoke into his lap, and the altimeter scrolled upward so fast that it was unreadable. The clouds thinned to nothingness. Even the curvature of the planet became more easily discernable as the Corvette shot upward.

  All of a sudden, the car shuddered and shook and warning chimes blared. He hadn’t hit anything. He’d probably be dead if he did at this speed. Nevertheless, the car twisted and bent, and now he saw why. It was being literally ripped apart around him. This Clairvoyant was no longer playing by artificial limits. He felt cold. He had no chance now.

  The sportscar eventually sensed a catastrophic failure and started the auto-ejection system. The sequence lasted a mere second or two and the inertial inhibitor spooled to full power. Such was its effect that he didn’t even feel the seatbelts pull tight. Next, the canopy turned solid black. Some safety engineer somewhere had thought it would be a good idea for the occupants to not be able to see that they were falling through the sky. Carson hated it. That, combined with the inertial inhibitor, made him unaware that he’d already been blasted clear of his crippled Corvette.

  The escape pod’s automatic systems steadied the fall to resemble the flight of a well-controlled anvil. Carson could only sit and wait, though he didn’t do so comfortably. What is she waiting for? he wondered over and over again. He should have been blasted from the sky or crushed by now. It was with some surprise that the canopy opened and he found himself safely on the ground.

  “Emergency vehicles are on their way. Please stay with the escape pod. If you are injured, please state the nature of your injury now.”

  Carson paid no attention to the emergency systems and found some meager comfort when his hand rested on his pistol. The pod had landed only a few miles outside the city limits. Several apartment buildings were a short distance away. He could even see people running out to help him. He didn’t have much time.

  He scrambled out of the pod so fast that he tripped twice.

  “Hey, mister, are you all right?” a man asked.

  “There’s a Clairvoyant after me! She’s crazy! Call the police!” Carson screamed in panic. He wasn’t much of an actor, but he could win awards in a pinch.

  “Oh wait, I see her! Let’s get out of here,” the man said.

  No shit, Carson thought. He sprinted toward the closest alley, leaving the bystander in the dust. The police would never try to match against a Clairvoyant, but it was worth a try. He didn’t have anything else left. Hiding would be no use against her. He slid to a stop and took a deep breath.

  What to do? What to do? he thought. He pulled his pistol and looked back the way he had come. The Clairvoyant had just landed. She looked ridiculous. Her hair reminded him of a cat that had been electrocuted. She telekinetically slicked it back and then tied it into a ponytail after a sigh. Just then, the police and an ambulance arrived.

  “Please, we don’t want any harm. Please surrender,” Carson could just barely hear one of the officers say.

  The Clairvoyant cautiously raised her hand, which made his mouth drop open. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Just leave me be,” she said.

  Carson looked at her crossed-eyed. She was actually trying to reason with them. What Clairvoyant anywhere would waste their time on that? Every one he’d ever met would just kill them or simply walk away—anything more efficient than talking.

  “We will open fire if you don’t stand down,” the police said.

  “No, wait—” the Clairvoyant yelled, for all the good it did.

  The police emptied their weapons on her. The gunshots echoed through the alley and the entire block. Carson thought he even heard a woman scream in the building he was standing next to. Throughout, though, the Clairvoyant stood still. He didn’t think the police would be able to drop her, as telekinesis could do amazing things. He received another shock, however, when she gave no retaliation. She even seemed bothered when they ran away in fear. Maybe I can use this.

  “I didn’t think I could pull the last job without some sort of reprisal!” he yelled. She looked in his direction and walked quickly toward him. He pulled back before he could be spotted. “At least they sent a cute one,” he added, now that he got a better look at her.

  She made no reply.

  “How’d you find me anyway?” he asked as he ran down the block.

  She still didn’t answer, though that wasn’t much of a surprise. All the same, he was curious. He thought he was good at covering his tracks.

  “What did they think it would take to bring me down, anyway? Twenty percenter?” he mused as he ran down yet another alley. “Fifteen percenter?”

  Carson looked back the way he had come and didn’t see anyone. It was too much to hope that he’d lost her. She had to be here somewhere.

  “Dare I ask…a ten?” he called.

  When he turned around, she was standing in front of him. He backed away by reflex and half raised his pistol. She looked at him and the weapon and then cocked her head to the side and rolled her eyes.

  He looked at the gun and couldn’t help a small chuckle. “Yeah, this would be pretty worthless against you,” he said. After throwing the gun away, he took another step back and then slowly raised his hands. “Would it be vain for me to think you’re a five percenter?” She pointedly rolled her eyes again, which made Carson let go a small smirk. “Stronger? Wow, I’m honored.”

  “Do you ever shut up?” Carmen barked as she started toward him.

  Carson raised his hands even higher. “Why? Does it bother you?” She said nothing, but he noted the briefest of hesitation. “Nah, no way. Not you. Hope they’re paying you well for this job. I’m no easy mark.”

  “Shut up!” Carmen said again.

  “Shit, I wouldn’t take a job against me. You must be a real monster,” he said.

  “Shut up! Shut up!” Carmen yelled. “Turn around and get down on your knees, now!”

  Carson looked at her and smirked. “No,” he said simply.

  She glared at him. “Turn around and get down on your knees,” she said firmly.

  “How many people have you killed?” he asked. “A hundred? Two hundred? Certainly more than I have. It must be easy for you by now. Just between you and me,” he began, making a show of looking around the alley to see if they were really alone, “sometimes my hands still shake just before.”

  “Just shut your mouth,” Carmen said as she grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him to the ground.

  He could only look up at her. “Weren’t expecting this, were you?” he asked. “Killing me in some violent struggle is one thing, but murdering a man who surrenders? Well, that’s something else, isn’t it? Did they even tell you anything about me?” he continued. “Whether I have a wife, kids, whatever? Ahh, both you and me know none of that shit matters. A job’s a job, right? Doesn’t matter how you come by the money.”

  Carmen said nothing. She took a step back and telekinetically turned him to face the other way. Then she pointed two fingers at the back of his head.

  He took a deep breath. “Those who live by the sword,” Carson muttered.

  Then he waited…and waited. He wished he could look at the Clairvoyant, if only to have some clue as to what was going through her head. A few more seconds passed. Then she spoke.

  “Disappear,” she said with a shaky voice.

  Carson slowly turned around to find that she was gone. He looked up and down the alley and searched the sky, but the Clairvoyant was nowhere to be seen. He took a deep breath.

  “Shit, that was close.”

  7

  Great News

  A sharp pain hung in the pit of Carmen’s stomach, and there was nothing she could think to do to be rid of it. It reminded her of when she kil
led Mikayla. It was a bit ironic that her lack of a conscience had cost her dog her life but that the interference of her conscience had spared the Sentinel’s.

  It wasn’t like he was some kind of saint. She’d insisted on learning everything she possibly could about him. As it turned out, she didn’t think the Sentinel, as he was codenamed, was anything special. He was a former Space Force Special Forces elite turned mercenary after the first Terran-Sorten War. There were many like him. From what she’d read in his dossier, she guessed his many exploits were impressive. She didn’t really have a point of reference, as it was a world she previously barely knew existed, but she would be surprised if they weren’t impressive. No one would hire a Clairvoyant at their premium price to take care of someone who had simply robbed an ice cream booth. It was all so much death, though. She hadn’t even been able to finish reading the dossier. But now all of that was neither here nor there. Now, all that mattered was that she had choked and Michael was as good as dead.

  The thought made the sharp pain in her stomach feel like someone was twisting the knife. Carmen looked around the bar, hoping for some distraction, if however brief. She sat in a quiet, dimly lit section with a forest of empty chairs arrayed around her. It was tempting to leave for somewhere else or even find a street corner to just be by herself, but she didn’t have the heart for it. It was still a few hours till her transport back to New Earth, and she didn’t want to spend that time alone, even though she effectively was. She remembered when she had laid almost comatose in her room after Mikayla’s death, utterly and completely alone. It wasn’t a time she wanted to relive, even distantly.

  She knew very little about Evonea and even less about this bar. There weren’t many patrons. It was still early, though. The size of the establishment suggested that it regularly saw large crowds, but she had no way of knowing for sure without asking someone. She had just come upon it while she was walking.