The Betwixt Book One (35 page)

The Commander was silent, his armor lifting up and down as he
sucked in each raking breath. I could hear him inhale and exhale,
the mic on his helmet obviously having been damaged in the blast,
and crackling like a rasp over metal.

‘
Now, Mini,’ Marty walked up to me – I could just see his legs,
unable to move my eyes to track him further. His feet stopped an
inch from my nose. ‘Sorry I had to do that to you, sweetie, but I
don't have a lot of time before the GAM come swanning in.’ He
turned away. ‘Well, would you look at that – I've never seen a Rain
Man versus a flash grenade before.’ Marty gave a harsh, cruel
laugh. ‘I'd say the grenade wins – that's one paralyzed pile of
blue ants. Right – you take the girl – and I want four of you on
the Commander. If he moves, so much as thinks about getting violent
– shoot him.’

In another moment, three arms were reaching towards me,
pulling me up off the ground.

It was a fear I had never experienced – and one I could never
come close to repeating. I couldn't move, I couldn't blink. All I
could do is see from my limited field of view, hear the breath of
the Tarian against my ear, and feel the dead, uncontrollable
paralysis of my body.

I wanted to scream, I couldn't. I wanted to run, I couldn't. I
wanted to see the Commander, I couldn't. All I could see was the
third arm of the Tarian looped up around my middle, pinning me to
its chest as it walked me out of the airlock.

The Mercs walked us along the corridor connecting the docked
ships. There wasn't another soul about, which was either a good or
very bad thing. I couldn't bear the idea of coming across some kind
human family, only to have the Tarians shoot them on the spot. But
then again, the fact there was no life along what should be a busy
thoroughfare, was not a promising sign.

‘
Ship isn't too far now,’ Marty said from somewhere in front of
me. ‘Then the real fun will begin.’ He chuckled again – with just
the same note of unrestrained cruelty. I was starting to wonder if
it had always been there, and whether I had just turned a blind ear
to it.

How could I not have seen this, after all? How could I not
have known what Marty truly was? A Tarian Mercenary
leader . . . there must have been
signs . . . .

My limited field of view kept jumping up and down as the
Tarian who carried me walked, boots heavy and gait long. I could
see a wall, then the sudden green flash of a pot plant, then the
wall again. But then more light suddenly filtered in as the wall
abruptly gave way to a massive bank of windows.

I could see bursts of the world below. The beauty of the
almost set sun, the orange and deep purple of the clouds and the
dark, star pocked sky. I could even make out the buildings, spires,
the occasional glimpse of some rooftop cruiser bay with its red
landing lights on full.

But then we turned suddenly, and there was the unmistakable
hiss of an airlock opening.

‘
All aboard,’ Marty droned, ‘now we're going to have an
interesting flight ahead of us, lots of things to see, places to go
and weapons to retrieve.’

My sense of smell was starting to return, or perhaps it had
never been compromised in the first place. It didn't matter, all I
cared about was the surprising, overpowering stench of the Tarian
who still had me clutched to his chest as we entered through the
airlock. I could smell a heady whirl of dried blood, acrid sweat,
and caked filth. I wanted to slam a hand over my nostrils to block
it out, or rip my nose right from my face – rather than have to
smell it again.

But then my sight went into overload as well. Suddenly, though
my field of view was still limited, my eyes still immobile, I
started to see detail more exquisite than ever before. I caught a
flash of the ship's corridor – could see the finish of the gray
paint splashed over the grainy metal surface. I could see a stain,
some mark of grime, between tiny bumps and imperfections on the
wall's surface. I could see it as if my face were pressed up
against it, my eyes as close as they could be.

Then I caught a glimpse of other things, the ceiling, the
lights, the other Tarians, their armor, the milky white of their
eyes. I was seeing it all at once, keeping it all in my mind – all
that detail, all those vivid colors, all those clear, perfect
images.

I felt like a computer scanner in meltdown – some visual
software caught in an infinite loop of enhancing and zooming
out.

Then my arms, my legs, my body – they started to twitch, to
flick back and forth like I was a puppet being shaken in a wild
storm.

The Tarian that held me swore, I could hear it so clearly, so
accurately. It was as if he had shouted it to me in a music hall
full of no other noise, acoustics set to amplify and
intensify.

‘
Dump her on the ground,’ Marty's voice had a note of worry,
but it was almost indiscernible. He just sounded too powerful,
cruel, and completely in control.

They did. I hit the ground with a thump, which I heard like a
train speeding through both of my ears. I felt the jolt through my
limbs like a paper doll feels the drill of monsoon rains. And I saw
the ground before me with the close up accuracy of a
microscope.

‘
Sirsh,’ one of the Tarians said, ‘wantsh ush to shedate hersh?
Hurts hershelf, not goodsh for misshion.’

‘
Damn it,’ Marty walked over to me and leaned down, though he
was too far out to be hindered by my thrashing limbs. ‘Maybe she's
had some kind of reaction to that modified grenade.’

‘
What the hell have you done to her?’ the Commander said, voice
still crackling as his mic injected it with bursts of static and
white noise.

I couldn't tell where he was, my overloaded senses shooting
too much information at me at once. I could hear the exact brusque
baritone of his voice, pick the exact pitch – but I could not tell
from which direction it came as it echoed back and forth in my
mind.

I clutched at my ears, finally able to move my arms, though
they still shook and jolted like I was being continually and
powerfully electrocuted.

‘
She's not just human, you monster!’ The Commander shouted
again. ‘Who knows what kind of effect that grenade had on her
physiology?!’

‘
The Commander has a point, though it's an annoying one – get
me a sedative, now.’

I clutched at my eyes, then at my ears, then all over my face.
I couldn't block out the cacophony of sensations, the smells, the
sights, the sounds, the feeling of every centimeter. of my
prickling skin.

But then someone grabbed my arm, their fingers digging into my
wrist and yanking me up. Something quick and sharp pierced the skin
at the nape of my neck. There was a final surge of sensation, which
gently subsided into a hollow, numb nothingness.

I flopped back onto the floor, only dimly, dimly aware of
anything at all.

‘
That's done the trick. I thought the dosage might be too high,
but it looks like she's still with us. Her alien side's obviously
getting more dominant, that was enough to take down ten humans. Oh
well, we live and we learn.’

Marty used to always say
that . . . .

My thoughts were slow, dull, not really there. I felt like I
was on the edge of sleep – one long, prolonged prelude to a deep,
dreamless sleep.

‘
The effects of the grenade should have time to subside now – I
just hope I haven't fried her nervous system. It sure would be
annoying to get this far only to have her—’

‘
What—’ the Commander began.

‘
Commander,’ Marty cut in, ‘do you really want to keep
interrupting the leader of a Tarian Mercenary band while you're
about as vulnerable as a newborn Kroplin?’

‘
You're never going to get away with this,’ the Commander's
voice was gradually becoming more normal, the static subsiding to a
low-level hiss.

‘
No, and you're never going to get the point. Oh, and someone
get the Commander out of his armor before the stuff regenerates. I
don't want another firefight on my hands. Now excuse me, Mini,
while I go and employ some evasive maneuvers to get us the hell off
this planet before the GAM start breathing down our
necks.’'

He walked off, leaving me limp on the floor, again. I knew
that this was one of the most important, most dangerous moments of
my life. But I couldn't hold onto that thought, couldn't keep the
feeling of gravity, the sense of peril.

Eventually I just slipped off to
sleep . . . .

I awoke to find Marty leaning over me, his bald head glinting
under the powerful blue lights embedded in the metal ceiling above.
He had a smile on his face, the kind of false smile a used-cruiser
salesman would use when he saw you walking across the ship-lot
towards him.

‘
Rise and shine, sweetie, we got a lot of talking to do.’
Marty's smile didn't shift for a second.

I blinked at the lights, raised a hand over my eyes to block
them out.

‘
Now, no sudden movements, kid. You're still under the effects
of the sedatives, and the grenade, of course. You so much as try
and do a star jump and you'll probably give yourself an aneurysm.
Not to mention, should you try your hand at heroics, we will give
the Commander an aneurysm.’

The Commander, Jason. I pulled myself up sharply, ignoring
Marty's words only to practically swoon back onto the bed as I lost
all sense of balance, my head filling with thick fog.

‘
What did I tell you, kid? Take it slow.’

Where was the Commander, where had they taken him, what had
they done to him? I tried to push myself up again, ignoring the
nausea and pain, pushing through it till at last I was seated
up.

‘
You've got a lot stronger since the last time I saw you, Mini.
I still remember when I had to take you to the Med Bay when Claudia
accidentally tripped you up – sixteen skin-stitches later and sixty
Central Credits poorer, and I thought you were about as tough as
under-set jelly. But now look at you – dodging Tarian fire, pushing
through the pain, oh, and fighting Twixts. I'm kind of proud of
you.’ Marty's grin widened, till I could see more of his white,
white teeth in that thick, heavy jaw.

‘
Save it,’ I managed through a deep breath. ‘Where is
he?’

‘
Wow, you actually care about him, don't you? About time you
found a boy, Mini, I was starting to worry about you—’

‘
Where – is – he?’ the words came out of my clenched jaw in
little bursts of mounting rage.

Marty, I had trusted him, I'd trusted him! What an idiot I'd
been. All these years and no inclining of his true nature. He'd
been like a father to me . . . .

I stared back at him, despite my nausea and raging headache,
with as much concentrated anger as I could muster.

‘
Now, now – those aren't kind eyes. Remember, I only hired you
because you were nice. Well, that's a lie. I only hired you because
I knew you who you really were. But you being nice really sealed
the deal—’

‘
Shut up. What do you want anyway? And where's the Commander,
what have you done with him?’

Marty just stared at me for a minute, a private smile tugging
at his mouth, his lips parting a millimeter to show the smallest
section of his tongue pressed against the roof of his
mouth.

He was trying to provoke me, trying to intimidate me – I could
tell that. But still, watching that vicious smile take to his face
was like watching the Commander being cut down with plasma
fire.

I tried to hide a shudder.

‘
Mini, he's just fine, for the time being. He's all tied up in
the brig right now, but very much alive. In fact, he'll be joining
us in just a minute. It's time we have a nice chat.’

With his arm around mine, partly to stop me from falling and
partly to fix me in place, Marty led me out of the med bay and back
along the corridor to the bridge. As I stumbled along, my limbs
still weak and uncoordinated, I tried to take in as much of the
scene as I could. There were Tarians standing around, checking
consoles, presumably flying the ship, or just leaning against the
bulkheads cleaning their weapons. It looked like a set up, like
someone had engineered the scene to make it as maximally
intimidating as possible. Surely, there was a better place to
scrape the blood off the magazine of your assault rifle, rather
than the center of the command deck? Why couldn't they do that in
their quarters, or the weapons range, or even the mess hall?
Wouldn't they just get in someone's way?

But as I looked around, I started to realize that this ship
couldn't be that big. Maybe it was only one deck, with a corridor
and just a handful of branching rooms? After all, weren't these
Tarian Mercenary bands supposed to be elite, fast groups ideal for
snatch and grab scenarios? Would they really have a GAM-size
cruiser at their disposal?

‘
Take it all in, Mini, because this is what all your hard work
at the diner went into funding. Well, not all of it, this mercenary
business has a habit of funding itself after a while. But the diner
is a good earner too – it's a handy place to listen for rumors,
find out hits, and just generally mingle with space
scum.’