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The clansmen weren’t amused—or so I discovered when I woke up.
Personally, I’d been hoping to see Doc... or Mack. Where was Mack? I twisted my head, taking in the almost comforting familiarity of the med-box walls. Even so, I needed out.
Why did I hurt so much?
“Mack?”
The seals hissed, as the med-box opened, and a vaguely familiar face looked in. It wasn’t Mack’s.
“You’re awake.”
“No, I’m dreaming, and you’re a fucking nightmare,” I retorted, unable to explain why I didn’t like him.
He scowled.
“Get out,” he snapped, and I laughed.
Damn. My chest hurt, and I wasn’t getting anywhere, let alone ‘out’.
“You and whose army?” I challenged, and then watched as the med-box morphed around me.
So much for this being a rural world with limited technology.
It made me wish I’d had time to do a bit of reading, before we’d gone on our “oh-so-simple” delivery run.
“Where’s Mack?” I asked, pushing into a sitting position, and sliding down onto the floor, as soon as the sides folded down.
Or, at least, that’s what I’d meant to do. I got the sitting up part okay, and swung my legs over the side, but I stopped when my left hand hit the mattress. My fingers touched the sheet, but something was wrong. Something felt wrong. Actually, I’m not sure ‘felt’ is the right word for it. I glanced down, and then I froze, gripping the edge of the bed as the room dipped and swirled, and I closed my eyes.
The man didn’t move an inch. He didn’t answer me, either. He just stood there, and waited, watching as I opened my eyes, and looked at the hand on the end of my arm. When I’d adjusted to the sight of it, I looked up at his face, and then back down at the five metal digits I’d clenched around the sheet. I wondered what would happen if I punched Mack with this... and then I remembered, and turned back to my silent companion.
“Where’s Mack?”
“You’re not going to ask what happened to your hand?” he asked, and I closed my eyes, again, swallowing hard against the fast-rising bile.
“Mack,” I repeated, gritting my teeth, and ordering my stomach to keep its contents right where they were. “Where is he?”
When he did not reply, I opened my eyes, and looked up at him.
This time, though, he was not alone. A doctor, dressed in the simple whites of doctors the universe over stood beside him—and I decided that this was not going to fly.
“Mack,” I said. “Where is Mack? The man I was with. My boss.”
I looked from one of them to the other, and then back again. When they did not respond, I pushed myself off the edge of the bed, and let my feet hit the floor. That almost ended in disaster.
I stumbled forward, and ended up running into the man who had woken me. He hesitated, obviously considering the idea of letting me fall, but I reached up and grabbed his shoulder with my unfamiliar hand, and gripped it tight to steady myself—and then I squeezed, the vibration of bones shifting beneath my fingers running up my arm.
I laid my other hand on his other shoulder and forced my body to straighten up.
“Mack,” I repeated, and watched his mouth open in pain.
Beside him, the doctor’s mouth dropped open, mirroring his master’s shock, as horror wrote itself across his face.
“Let go.”
As an order delivered by someone hurting that much, it wasn’t bad. I managed a grin, and gripped tighter. The sharp punch of pain in my gut came as a complete surprise, and my knees folded. I tried to hold on, but I just couldn’t.
“Put her back in a tank, and speed up the process,” said the man who’d greeted me, “and make sure her boss is restrained when I visit. That attitude has to come from somewhere.”
I was still smiling, when they put me under. Maybe I’d get some answers when I woke up, next time. Yeah... and maybe Mack would be there, and I’d be back on board the Marie, and Doc Oskar would be doing his very best impression of being upset.
One out of three was more than I had any right to expect.
“Mack,” I said, when I was awake, and free of the tank, once more, and I took a very shaky step towards him.
“Easy there,” he said, when movement alerted me to the others in the room.
“Easy,” he repeated, taking the towel from the approaching medic’s hands, and passing it to me, before guiding me over to the san unit at one side of the tank.
He turned to me.
“Clean up, and get dressed. I’m sure these ‘gentlemen’, won’t mind waiting.”
That last sentence was directed more to the well-dressed men standing on the opposite side of the room, than to me. I’d like to say that having a metal hand took me by surprise, again, but it didn’t. Somewhere in my sleep, my brain had assimilated the facts, and decided it could handle having a new hand as opposed to not having one, at all. Maybe Mack would let me upgrade it.
“Move your ass,” he said, and I gasped at the sound of him in my head.
Well, at least I knew he was back. The main question was ‘back where?’
“Hurry up so we can find out,” he said, and I finished scrubbing the regen fluid off my skin, and stepped out from under the water.
Mack handed me the towel, again, and then passed me the clothes being held by another hovering medic. All the time, he kept himself between me and the two... lords? in the room.
At least, I think they were lords. Neither of them impressed me much. They might be nobility, but there was very little noble, or gentlemanly about either of them. In fact, they reminded me of every rich prick I’d ever seen in every clichéd depiction of spoiled wealth I’d ever watched for entertainment.
I studied them as I dressed, taking in their looks, their clothes, the weapons hanging at their waists. It took me a moment to realize I recognized one of them. He had one arm in a sling, and a familiar look of watchfulness on his face—and he wore a dagger at his waist. I stopped when I saw it, and then lifted my gaze to his face.
By that stage, I was dressed, and I was furious.
Because, now, I knew what he’d done.
“You smug-faced, ass-fucking, dick-jerking sonuva—” Mack grabbed me as I took a step towards the man, and then he slapped a hand over my mouth, and pulled me tight against his side.
“Be nice,” he said, even as his voice echoed in my mind. “I need you alive.”
He did? I glared over his hand at the whomever-it-was standing by the door. The guy’s hands were hovering at his belt line, one set of fingers on the dagger hilt, the other above his sword.
They had swords?
“And they’re not afraid to use them,” Mack told me, in the privacy of our heads, “so, please, keep your mouth shut, and your body at my side.”
He wished!
“Not in a lifetime of nopes,” he added, and I blushed as he let me go.
That last comment had been totally uncalled for. I saw curiosity flicker across the face of the two gentlemen waiting for us, and then Mack spoke.
“You had something you wanted to discuss?”
At least it took their attention away from me. Both men glanced towards him. It was the younger, stabby one that answered.
“Follow us,” he said, and he turned and led the way from the regen room without another word of explanation. His older counterpart followed on his heels, as though Mack and I were no threat at all.
Well, at least he’d called that right.
The minute we stepped through the door, I saw why they weren’t worried; another dozen men lined the corridor outside. They fell in around us, flanking us as we followed our hosts down the hall. I risked a glance to both sides, and saw nothing that encouraged an escape attempt. These guys were soldiers, and they moved like they were living inside a combat zone...even inside the walls of what had to be their home.
What the Hells was going on with this world?
It was a question the Lord of the Corovan answered, when we were seated at the conference table, our escort arrayed along the walls on either side.
“We are one of eighteen clans,” he said. “Our forebears settled this world, and built a political system based on bloodline, trading power, and familial ties. You were hired by Clan Hazerna to retrieve the youngest of their daughters. By doing so, they violated an agreement they had made with m...”—the older man cleared his throat—“my clan.”
The older man nodded.
Mack glanced at me, and I glanced back, and then we both turned to stare at the young lord at the head of the table. Neither of us asked what it had to do with us. We just waited for him to get to the point.
It was easier that way. I don’t think he was used to people waiting for him to explain, because it took him a couple of minutes to realize neither one of us was going to interrupt. With a quick look at his older companion, he continued.
“Melari was the second clanswoman Blaedergil took. The first was her older sister, Treivani. My betrothed.” He levelled a stern gaze towards us, and then settled his stare on me. “And that is why you are still alive.”
Mack flicked his eyes towards me, and I realized he hadn’t said anything via the implant, since we’d entered the room. I looked away from the lord, scanning Mack’s face. He didn’t seem the slightest bit amused, but I watched his mouth tighten at the edges, before he turned his attention to the Lord of Corovan.
“I take it you want to hire our services,” he said, and was met with a fierce grimace that didn’t quite qualify as a smile.
“No, Captain Star, I’m going to offer you a fair exchange.” He paused, making sure he had Mack’s and my undivided attention. When we both returned his gaze, he explained. “Your lives and freedom, for the return of my future bride-to-be...alive.”
I licked my lips, and looked up at Mack. This was his call, his boat, his business, his crew.
“We’re owed payment for the last delivery,” Mack said. “You need—”
I was guessing these soldiers weren’t just soldiers—and that Mack was very lucky to still have his head. Some things a regen tank just won’t grow back. Me? I wasn’t moving a muscle.
I could see the two soldiers kneeling on either side of Mack’s chair, one hand on his closest shoulder, the other holding a curve-bladed dagger. Both their blades rested along the length of his throat, their tips just piercing the skin on the underside of his jaw. I didn’t need anyone to explain the hard grips I felt on my arms, or the sudden pain under my chin.
It was hard not to panic, harder still not to fight. I locked myself down tight, and kept my eyes on Mack’s face. Everything rested on what he did next. Me? I figured I’d sassed myself into an early grave if Mack went and got himself killed—and maybe even if he didn’t. The idiot lord at the end of the table had a very short fuse.
When neither of us had moved for what felt like a long and overly full minute, the lord flicked his hand. I watched as Mack’s suddenly close companions released him, and returned to their positions by the wall, didn’t need to be told that mine had done the same.
Mack turned his head, looking behind him at the men along the wall, and then he made a display of scanning those standing behind me—and then he pushed his chair back from the table.
“This negotiation is over,” he said, and I followed his lead.
I felt the movement behind me, and had picked up my chair and turned, using a two-handed swing to side-swipe one of the approaching guards. It was a pity we were outnumbered. I finished one sweep, and reversed the swing, but I knew I’d stepped into the path of the next man along—and things were about to get nasty.
I ducked my head in time to avoid the first punch coming towards it, and then I used my shoulder and hip to push him back. By that time, of course, I was well within the arc of his arms. I reversed direction, and slid the chair between us, but his partner was already coming alongside, and he knew how to use the stun baton he was holding. I’d forgotten there were six of them—and wondered what strange and vicious dance Mack was leading me into.
As if on cue his voice sounded inside my head.
Aaand stop.
It was just a darn shame, no one conveyed that order to the oncoming guard. He bounced three good hits off my right side, while the guard who’d been closing from the left made the same pattern down my left side. Talk about letting sparks fly.
The table hit me behind the thighs and I sat down on it. I watched as the guards closed, saw their arms go back as they raised their batons, and flinched as a sharp whistle split the air. It was hard to resist following their gaze as they snapped their heads towards their boss, but Mack had taught me better than that. I might lose to him on the mats, but I’d learned not to take my eyes off him, or any other opponent, for a second.
“Stand down!”
I jerked to a stop, just as I launched myself at the guy standing in front of me. Forward momentum is a sonuvabitch, and I still ended up crashing into him. I held onto the punch, even as I was grabbed out of the air, and set firmly back onto my feet. The guard was not impressed.
“Sit,” he said, turning me about, and I looked for Mack.
He was already sitting, and the six guards at his back weren’t looking happy. They were also down a man, and one of those remaining was nursing a black eye and rapidly purpling cheek. When he saw he had my attention, Mack waved me towards my seat. Once he’d seen me seated, he looked towards the lordling standing at the end of the table.
“So,” he said. “What was it you wanted to hire us for?”
What happened next was entirely unexpected. I saw the lordling flick a glance in my direction, and nod, heard an almost simultaneous schick of metal, and found I had a guard kneeling beside me.
Which, of course, was not the worst of it.
Blood bubbled into my throat, and pain burned in my chest.
Mack? I was screaming, but no sound was coming out. I was sucking air, and getting nothing but blood.
“How about her life?”
Mack didn’t hesitate.
“Done,” he said, and only I knew it was a lie.
I was so fucking sick of dying.
