The Transporter's Favor

by C. M. Simpson

  Apparently, that girl’s resources also had their limits.

  Which reminded me that hiding in my implant was only going to last for so long before the simple biological reaction to whatever they’d given me took over and hauled my mental ass right back to the real world.

  “Not right now, it’s not,” Pritchard murmured. In my head. Taking a fast copy of every file Cascade had brought, and stowing the others in a ‘Read Later’ file, before forwarding Beckett the file marked with his name, and Abby a private message from Tens that I hadn’t got to opening yet.

  “And nor will you,” Abs told me, spiriting the message away. “Give the dog a hug. He’s missing his boy.”

  He was?

  I reached out to hug Cascade, and Pritchard eased me out of my own head.

  “You need to be here for this.”

  I did?

  Have to admit, the first thing I noticed was Cascade leaning hard up against me. The second thing was the sense of overwhelming tiredness. The third thing was the newly cleaned floor and the med team standing by.

  Why the Hell did I need to be here for any of this?

  “Because your sense of reality has taken a hammering and I didn’t want to risk you being caught up in the location your boys are at.”

  My boys, huh. Where were they, again?

  “Don’t worry about it. Wanderer will get you there, but you need to sleep so you can deal with it, okay?”

  This time, I managed words.

  “Okay,” and I was out the instant they left my mouth.

  Felt like I was back in a blink, and it was nice not to wake up in a tank…or in a cell, come to that, given what they’d been discussing when I’d left the conference room. How had that gone? I wondered.

  “We traded fines,” Delight said. “They waived damages, the sentence for theft of station equipment, the fine for piloting through orbital airspace without permission, the fines and jail terms for reckless endangerment and dangerous flying, the fine and jail term for unauthorized access to the orbital’s external spaces, the fines and jail terms for possession and use of a deadly weapon, attempted hijacking of a space craft and threat to life of the crew of such…” She paused, as though thinking. “I don’t think I missed anything, there.”

  “No,” Pritchard added. “Sounds like you got it all.”

  I didn’t bother to wait, just sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Nice to find I wasn’t in the old ship suit anymore, but I still stank.

  “I need the san,” I said.

  “You don’t want to know what we traded the fines for?”

  Actually, I did, but I wanted the san more.

  Delight got that.

  “It’s over there.”

  “Ta.”

  I made it in time to throw up, again, and then took a moment to clear my mind. After that, it was an easy step into a short steam-and-dry, which left me smelling a whole lot better than when I’d gone in—and the dilemma of what to wear, because I really didn’t want to put my clothes back on, and I didn’t want to head back out to Delight and Pritchard, stitchless bare.

  It took me a minute to try shoving my clothing into the san unit, and a minute longer to stop swearing when it was sucked down into the waste disposal unit.

  Delight was laughing fit to bust when she opened the door and passed me a replicator-fresh replacement.

  “Pritchard sends his compliments.”

  I glared at her, took the suit, and got dressed.

  “Nice,” I said, and didn’t sound one bit impressed.

  Delight’s smile faded.

  “You’ve lost your sense of humor,” she said. “Come on.”

  I followed her out.

  “So, what was the trade?”

  “We didn’t charge them the appropriate fines for being a place of illicit trade, hosting war criminals, harboring a hostile company, and trafficking in sentient lives—and we didn’t do a full audit on every business they currently had on, or off, their systems. It was more than fair.”

  “I still think we got ripped off,” Pritchard told her, but Delight just smirked.

  “You haven’t seen what the Hack Team did to every single one of their operating systems, or the hitchers we put on every ship and shuttle in dock. We got a lot more than they bargained for.”

  I wondered how the orbital and its clientele could not have seen this coming, but Delight had that covered.

  “Some people just don’t know us very well,” she said, “and the ones that do didn’t think we be here quite as fast as we were.”

  Well, sucked to be them, I thought. What I said was, “So, what’s next?”

  “Don’t you want to know where the boys are?”

  At least she wasn’t calling them my boys anymore.

  “Mack would be disappointed,” she added, and I rolled my eyes.

  Sure he would. But I was pushing away memories of his arm around my shoulders when the arach boarded, of waking to find him waiting at my bedside after every major injury—and that, even when he knew I wasn’t going to run away—of me just wanting him close by.

  “What’s next?” I repeated, my voice coming out harder than I’d meant—and I was thankful when Delight and Pritchard didn’t comment on anything that had just crossed my mind.

  Delight headed for the door.

  “Wanderer put the location on the edge of wolf space. There was some very interesting fine print in that contract. Took us some time to drill down to it. Once Costoganzi verified the catch, the wolves get the bounty and to dispose of the Shady’s crew for their own profit. The only caveat was that the wolves were to ensure the crew were never to regain their freedom or be able to call for help. If either of those terms was breached, the wolves had to repay double the bounty and ensure the crew member was recaptured and punished to Costoganzi’s satisfaction.”

  “Man’s a piece of work,” I said.

  I didn’t add that I wanted him dead.

  “Get in line, hon,” Abby told me. “Dasojin has first call.”

  “You and whose army?” I wanted to know, and found myself on the floor, the faint taste of copper filtering over my tongue.

  “I don’t need an army.”

  I hadn’t known an AI could be that righteously pissed. Probably should have, given what she told me next.

  “He’s taken three!”

  I also hadn’t known an AI could snarl.

  “That’s because I’m not an AI. I am a Human Mind Transfer, and I still know what it is to feel!”

  Oh. Well. That explained it then.

  “He has my brother, my sisters, my lover and my friends. He threatens my livelihood. And, for that, I will take his livelihood and then his life, and woe betide any who stand in my path.”

  I was pretty sure Odyssey might have something to say about that, but Delight was shaking her head.

  “Penalty for what he’s done is death on some worlds,” she said. “We just have to charge him, and then prove he committed those crimes on the appropriate world, or worlds…and if those crimes aren’t enough, I’m pretty sure we can find enough to legally kill him many times over.”

  And I’d thought Delight was unprincipled.

  “Not yet, I’m not,” she said, and then tilted her head and looked me in the eye. “So, you helping us get your people free?”

  I pushed myself up off the floor, and accepted the hand she offered. My head protested the sudden movement, and I wondered what Abs had hit me with. Girl had quite a temper!

  “Only where my friends are concerned,” she told me, and I felt the pain ease.

  I could live with that.

  “So, when do we get there?”

  23—Training Intensifies

  A week—apparently the oligarch had wanted some distance between him and the sale of the Shady Marie’s crew, but he’d wanted to be close enough to come and gloat from the audience. Mack, Tens, and Rohan had been taken to Ak
trovaran, a world in the borderlands of the Star Shadows’ territory, far enough on the edge of human space to be unattractive to all but the most entrepreneurial of a multitude of species. It was not a signatory to any of the law-abiding alliances that sought to protect sentient life on all worlds.

  No surprise there.

  I’d like to say I did a lot of reading up on the world and the wolves. The Stars knew I needed to, but I spent most of the journey getting back into shape, which meant close combat training with Delight and her crew, and a little practice in running with the Hack Team.

  And then there was Abby.

  I spent the first four days getting back a lot of the fitness I’d lost from the most recent stints in stasis and regen—and I spent a large portion of my nights back in a tank, while absorbing the data and language I needed through direct transfer. Six hours of sparring and fitness training followed by another couple of hours of weapons instruction, rolling into cyber drills and scenarios will do that to you if it’s done at the right intensity.

  And Odyssey’s training regime was intense.

  I’d forgotten. And then I surprised myself by discovering I’d missed it.

  “You can always come back, sweetie,” Delight suggested, and I tried to take her down to prove how much that just wasn’t gonna happen.

  Damn she was fast…and merciless. Don’t forget that. Absolutely merciless.

  The worst part of it was that, every time I lost, or came in under par—and there was a lot of that, they took blood. Literally, not figuratively, a small vial to be used in tweaking stim packs for me.

  “Doc is gonna want your hide,” I said, when Delight pinned me for what felt like the millionth time.

  Day Three and I was remembering why I hated Odyssey, and didn’t like Delight much better.

  “He’ll understand.”

  “Nope. He really won’t.”

  “Well, it’s not like you’re going to tell him, is it?”

  I just looked at her, and she smirked.

  “You do what you feel you have to,” she said. “It’s not gonna matter to us.”

  And she’d let me up.

  “Again,” she said. “You’d still be wolf bait, if you’d been unenhanced.”

  Which was what it was all about. Enhancements. They were taking blood until they’d found the right combination of stims and nans. One that didn’t send me right over the edge, or completely incapacitate me, when they wore off.

  “Good luck with that. Her system’s as recalcitrant as she is,” Pritchard muttered, and put down the second of a pair of team members he’d been sparring against.

  He was enhanced?

  “Sometimes the combination becomes self-replicating.”

  Oh, Hell, No.

  “I’m not like you,” I told her, and she gave me a pitying look.

  “Pretty sure you’re exactly like me,” she’d replied, “much as you don’t want to admit it.”

  And she’d let me up to dispute the fact.

  I want Mack, back, I thought ducking under her first strike and slipping past her second to land one of my own.

  I wanted Tens around, too, I realized, bending under a kick that would have sent me into a wall, and pivoting to sweep Delight’s leg out from under her. She hit the mat and rolled sideways before I could take advantage.

  “Incoming,” Pritchard said, and I swore.

  Like I needed the added difficulty.

  “You put her on the mat,” he said. “That means you’re ready for the next level.”

  I was?

  I suppose it was a promotion. It just wasn’t the kind of promotion I appreciated.

  “Ingrate.”

  I took one down, knocked the second one back, and landed another three strikes on Delight…kinda. This sort of shit made me really miss my blaster. Or a stick. I could really use a stick about now.

  Or a machete.

  Or a sword.

  Or…

  Wow. Someone needed to confiscate that guy’s sledgehammer!

  I tried not to stay in the same place I’d fallen, as Delight came in for the kill.

  Couldn’t. Move. Aninch.

  She stopped, the blade of her hand resting against my trachea.

  “Good fight, kiddo.”

  I closed my eyes, and relaxed my head on the mat.

  It was a compliment, but I didn’t feel like I’d achieved anything.

  She reached down, offering me a hand up. “Come on. Wanderer and Abs have found the sales yard.”

  That got my attention and I rolled to my feet, accepting Delight’s hand. From across the mats, the team came together. The guy I’d put down came in for a friendly ribbing, until Delight put the jokesters on the schedule to face me the next morning.

  “Easy meat,” one of them sneered, and Delight looked to me.

  “Take him down.”

  I didn’t hesitate. Guy that big? That fast? I’d take every advantage I could get—and surprise was my only friend. He was still laughing when I kicked his knee in a direction it was never meant to go, kicked him in the ribs on his way down, and followed him to the ground.

  Damn. Close combat with someone this size was not recommended, and the element of surprise was wearing off, even if the pain put him at a disadvantage. I went in hard, going for the solar plexus and throat.

  “Enough!” Pritchard’s voice snapped through me, and I stopped, my fist resting against his neck.

  It took me a few breaths to register the pain in my side.

  I looked down and realized two things: Pritchard’s timing was almost perfect, and these bastards cheated as badly as their boss.

  “Don’t be a sore loser, Cutter.”

  “Didn’t lose,” I said, reaching back and wrapping my hand around my opponent’s wrist, slowly pushing the blade away. “We killed each other.”

  He gave a bubbling laugh, and gently moved my fist away from his throat.

  “You can fight beside me, anytime.”

  He wasn’t the first soldier to tell me that, so I took it for the compliment it was.

  “Sorry about your knee.”

  “Doc’ll patch it,” he said, then frowned. “You throw up on me and all bets are off.”

  Until he’d said it, I hadn’t realized just how bad I was feeling. Not that I was gonna admit it.

  I stood up, and stepped clear of him.

  “It didn’t go that deep,” I said, knowing I’d gone ghost white, and feeling sweat bead on skin gone suddenly cold.

  Delight gave me a look that said I wasn’t a very good liar.

  I made myself turn towards the door, squelched the urge to clap a hand over the pain in my side.

  “What’s for lunch?”

  Pritchard grabbed me before I could fall over.

  “Let’s go find out,” he said, but he didn’t steer me to the mess hall.

  He guided me out of the training hall and into the medical centre across the hall. The medic in attendance just rolled his eyes.

  “Again?”

  “She’s needed for weapons training in two hours.”

  “What sort of training.”

  “Hostage Scenario 5.”

  I watched as the medic took a breath, his mouth forming the first protest, and then he closed his mouth, and pointed to one of the bays along one wall.

  “I take it you’ll send someone to collect her?”

  Pritchard might have replied, but the rest of the team chose that moment to follow us through the door, carrying the big guy I’d put down. The medic looked at the new arrival, looked at me, glared at Pritchard.

  “And I suppose you need him at the same time?”

  “Yes!” Delight snapped as she arrived, which put an end to that discussion.

  They stuck the big guy, Scarpil, in the bay next to mine, immobilizing his leg, and putting him flat on his back as they injected nans and muttered about the stupidity of operational training, whic
h injured the operatives as badly, or worse, than the real thing. Me, they stitched, and nanned, and threatened with another shot if I didn’t at least pretend to sleep until the team came to collect us.

  “Last time you get underestimated,” Scarpil muttered, before they shushed him with a sedative, and I didn’t dare respond. There were too many annoyed medics out there, and way too many sharp and pointy objects within their reach. I cat-napped while I could.

  I surprised myself by actually falling asleep, woke to Abby’s gentle mind-touch, just before Delight tapped me on the foot.

  “Time for training,” she said, and there was no mention of the meal I’d missed.

  There was a ration bar, though. Quick energy and slow-release nutrients to take us through to the evening meal—and if the medics thought it wasn’t enough, they didn’t say anything. Scarpil walked beside me as we headed out the door. He didn’t speak, but there really wasn’t much to talk about. We had training—and we’d have training tomorrow…and maybe the day after that.

  Whatever, right?

  It made me glad I wasn’t part of Delight’s regular squad of mischief makers, and wish for the days when Mack was handing me yet another impossible assignment that he probably hadn’t told me enough about.

  Delight glanced over her shoulder, and smirked at me, but we’d reached the armory and the firing range, and Hostage Scenario 5 was a bitch. I got shot twice, and thrown out a virtual window once, and then I’d lost my temper.

  And woken up in another tank.

  “You feeling better now?” Delight snarked, and I grinned.

  I remembered throwing her under a shuttle.

  So, Hells, yes, I did.

  And even she smiled.

  “Good, because tomorrow we go harder.”

  Harder?

  “Shut up and get some sleep, Cutter.”

  Well, okay, then.

  I closed my eyes, and began running through kata in my head, feeling the muscle groups twitch in response. I fell asleep about half way through, and woke up outside the tank when Pritchard dumped my combat gear onto my chest.

  “Get up and get dressed,” he said. “There are penalties for being late.”

  In which case he should have woken me, sooner.

  “There were also penalties for waking you too early,” he said, and a flick of his eyes indicated the unhappy-looking medics standing just outside the bay.