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Fiction

Fortunes of Soldiers

Issue 26 of COSMOS, April/May 2009

Two week’s pay for one night’s work, baby-sitting a pampered asteroid heiress. How hard could it be?


Soldiers of Fortune

Credit: Emrah Elmasli

A MECHANICAL, DISEMBODIED VOICE jolted me out of unconsciousness.

"Jake O'Dell, you are on trial for deliberately causing the death of your client's daughter, Serena Burns. How do you plead?"

Couldn't see, couldn't touch ... This was bad. My brain scrambled to remember what had happened. I felt three parts dead. I should have been. Serena Burns? Yes. She was one of those I'd killed.

"Not guilty," I responded, automatically as breathing - which, come to think of it, I wasn't doing. My answer was nonvocal, I noticed. Was all this going on in my head? Maybe I was dead.

"The prosecution calls Serena Burns."

So not just dead, but in Hell.

The pretty blond girl had hair down to her great ass, bluer-than-blue eyes. Serena was a spoiled and clueless heiress with no experience in the real world, about as deep as a cookie tray. A lot of growing up to do.

But money was money, and her daddy hired me for bodyguard work. Hamilton Burns had made his fortune out in the Wu Lin asteroid belt. Everyone knew only dead rock was out there. He proved 'em wrong and laughed all the way to his own bank on his own custom-terraformed moon.

Of course, out in this little corner of the system, being rich made him a target, too. So I found myself sitting in his office in a comfortable chair while he poured coffee for us. He was dressed much the way I was, and his moustache looked like he trimmed it himself. He wasn't the sort to stick his nose in the air when us ordinary folks were around. His bald head shone in the light from the windows.

He frowned at me when I lit up a cheroot. "I'd rather you didn't smoke those when you're with my daughter, Mr O'Dell." He sighed. "She's 18 and impressionable. Serena thinks your job is glamorous."

I don't mind small talk, but when I'm sitting across from a prospective employer I like to get right to it. "What is the job?"

"I've followed your career with a lot of interest and admiration over the years, Mr O'Dell," Burns said, instead of answering my question. "What happened on the Cimmaron Centre job was terrible, and I don't blame you for dropping out of sight for a while. It's a tragedy that Katerine was zapped in the head instead of the chest."

Yeah. Medical technology has come far enough that hearts and lungs can be replaced. Brains, not so much. My gaze slid over to a stack of magazines fanned out on the table. Space Soldier, Mercenary News, Sonic Weapons Today ... No doubt the details of the operation that got my partner killed had been splashed in lurid detail all over their pages. I don't read them myself.

"My daughter's got a party she wants to go to tomorrow night." He sipped his coffee. "You drive her there, make sure she doesn't get in too much trouble, and drive her home."

I leaned back and blew a smoke ring. "Sounds too easy for what you're offering to pay. What's the catch, and why are you hiring a mercenary for simple bodyguard work?"

"She's headstrong. She might try to ditch you, just for fun. And I have enemies who wouldn't hesitate to get to me through her." He looked me up and down and was apparently reassured by my 200-cm frame and the muscles I cultivated by working out on heavy planets. "Like I said, I've followed your career, and I think you're trustworthy. I'd like to hire you, if you'd like the job."

Two week's pay for one night's work, baby-sitting a pampered little girl. How hard could it be?

I PULLED UP in front of the house the next night wearing my best formal duds and a deceptively small microwave zapper in the middle of my back, along with a sonic blade up my sleeve and a knife strapped to my calf. I knocked on the door and was ushered inside by the Gryal'ian butler who waved his eyestalks. "She's almost ready. Wait here."

I sat in a chair in the entrance. Five minutes became 10, then 15. Just as I was about to get up and hunt for her, Serena Burns swept down the stairs and gave me a dazzling smile.

"I'm so sorry for keeping you, Mr O'Dell," she said, patting the golden curls that cascaded from her head. "It's my hair. I just can't do a thing with it."

It looked okay to me. Did it ever. I'd seen vidcaps of her, naturally; who hadn't? They didn't do her justice. Damn, but she was fine, with the skin-tight red dress slit to her hip and those really impractical shoes that did interesting things to the line of her calf. If only she'd been a few years older...

Concentrate, man, I commanded myself. "Call me Jake, Miss Burns." I offered her my arm. "Your chariot awaits."

The gull-wing doors on my little runabout opened with a push of the remote, and Serena slid gracefully into the passenger seat. I spoke our destination, and the car inserted itself into the flow of traffic. Skyscrapers and garish billboards slid by the window. The ride to the party would take about 20 minutes.

She gave me a coquettish glance from under her lashes.

"What's it like being a mercenary, anyway?"

Everyone always asked that. I reached for my cheroots and pulled out a bag of mints instead, offering her one. "If everything goes right? Really boring."

"And how often does it go wreee!" She let out a little shriek.

"What's that?"

"What's what? Oh." I waved my hand. "That's just Fluffy, coming out from her bed under the seat to see what all the ruckus is about." My Zilant, a three-metre snake with feathery wings, stuck her triple-forked tongue out at Serena.

To her credit, once she got over her initial fright, Serena put out her hand and let Fluffy sniff it. "You named it Fluffy?
That's so cute. Is it poisonous?"

"Venomous. Yes. But she only bites if she's provoked." I decided not to mention that I hadn't been the one to name my pet; that had been my partner. My dead partner. Fluffy nudged the girl's hand, and Serena hesitantly petted her head, then stroked down her neck. Fluffy purred. "She likes you."

"She's warm! I like her too. I'll have to ask Daddy to get one."

Yeah, Daddy would be thrilled to get his little girl a creature that could kill her with one drop of venom. Time to lay some ground rules. "You know why your dad hired me, right?"

She waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, some arble-garble about kidnappers. Seems silly to me, but he worries so."

"Well, he's paying me a good chunk of change to keep you safe. So, no running off alone at this bash, all right? Stay where I can see you. Better yet, stay where I can touch you."

She stuck her lip out. "But what if I meet a boy and we want to slip off for some private time?"

"If he's as heavily armed and experienced in combat as I am, then go ahead and have fun with him. Just be sure his shots are current." She huffed and crossed her arms as I continued. "And no booze. If we have to make a quick exit, I want you to have all your faculties about you."

"For heaven's sake, you act like we're going into a war zone."

"For all I know, we are." I'd scoped out the place the day before, checking for alternative exits and prek like that, but I didn't have any way of knowing what sort of people I'd be dealing with. "Are they going to give me any trouble about my weapons?"

"They shouldn't." Serena shrugged. "Lots of us have bodyguards."

The runabout came to a stop. Fluffy slithered up my sleeve and wrapped around my waist under my jacket as the doors opened. I exited, scanning the area for threats, walked around to Serena's side and handed her out. The car flew off to park itself as we headed up the stairs towards a pair of men checking invitations.

Serena blipped hers to them with a smile, and they nodded and opened the door. After another attendant announced us, she swept into the room with me at her elbow, instantly commanding the attention of every human maleeye - and not a few female and alien ones. I believe the term 'fashionably late' applies.

While Serena revelled in the sensation she was causing, I studied the ballroom. A string quartet in the corner playing over-fancy music and table full of overpriced food, check. Tuxedoed waiters circulating with over-trendy drinks and snacks, check. Overdressed women on the arms of uncomfortable-looking men, check.

Three men and a woman who seemed like they'd be more at ease in a rough tavern instead of a fancy dress party, check.

Oh, they had the clothes. But they didn't have the look. If you knew what you were seeing, they stood out like giraffes in a barnyard. I also recognised the woman, and possibly one of the men, although he'd grown some facial hair and gathered a couple of new scars since I'd seen him last. They alerted when they saw Serena.

For her part, she noticed a group of three girls, squealed, and clattered over to them, pulling me along in her wake. They did that air-kiss thing women do when they don't want to mess up their makeup, and then her friends openly ogled me. "Who's this long drink of water?" one asked.

"Oh, Daddy decided this party was too dangerous for me to come alone, so he hired a bodyguard." Serena rolled her eyes. "You know how he worries."

"At least he picked a hot one." The girl wore an electric green dress that set off her red ringlets; she eyed me appraisingly.

"His hair should be longer, though. It's not very fashionable."

I crossed my arms and flashed my teeth in a wicked grin. "No, but it's practical. Try dragging me out of the room by it." I flexed my fingers.
"Yours, on the other hand ..."

One of the other girls said, under her breath, "He could drag me out of the room by the hair any time."

"Maybe if you were 10 years older," I said, giving her a wink.

Serena laughed and grabbed my arm. "I saw him first, Melisande. Get in line."

ALL THE WITTY BANTER hadn't distracted me from my actual job. The four predators in the room kept their distance, but I had to assume that whoever was after Serena had placed at least one person who actually fit in with the crowd. I faded into the background a little to let her be with her friends. I wasn't there to spoil her fun, just keep her safe.

"Jake O'Dell," a sultry voice whispered in my ear. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Hello, Tina." I didn't turn around, instead keeping an eye on my charge. "I'm here because of a job. You?"

"Same." She moved to stand next to me. Her head barely came up to my chest. "Looks like our separate jobs may bring us into conflict, Jake. I hate to see that, especially after what happened last time."

Last time, Katerine had been killed. I felt my hands clench into fists. When the medtechs were finished with me after that job, I'd taken a good long time to crawl off the juice-wire. I never had caught up with the people responsible, or ultimately responsible, anyhow - Tina had just been a worker drone, after all. That being said, only my professionalism kept me from beating her to a pulp where she stood.

"But no hard feelings, eh?" Tina continued. "Prek happens in our line of work; it's nothing personal, right?" And she really believed that. The death of a partner would roll off Tina's back because she was a cold piece of work with no notion of 'partner'. There were people she used, and people who used her. Anything else was predator or prey.

Sometimes I envied her that. "Anyway, Jake, reason I came over, the others just wanted to whack you and take the girl, but I told 'em you'd take at least one of us out if we tried that, maybe all of us. Seeing as I, myself, would rather not be taken out, I got 'em to offer to cut you in on our action first."

"Mmm," I said, purposely noncommittal, watching some kid dance with Serena. He stepped on her feet at least twice. "You still working for the same outfit?"

"You kiddin'? Of course. That freelance prek might be all right for you, but I like the steady paycheck."

Serena sent the kid packing with some choice words that I didn't catch, but made his ears flame. "Tell me more."

"Simple. You act like everything's normal up until it's time to take her home. But instead of going back to her place, you follow us to ours. We'll cut you in, equal share of the ransom." Tina must have moved up in the organisation to be able to make a play like this.

"Why cut me in? Why not just kill me and take her anyway?"

"Because 20 % of the take and alive is better than 25 % and dead." She pushed a hand through her shortcropped brown hair. "I know you, Jake. You won't just give up because someone waves a zapper in your face."

That was certainly true. "How much?"

She told me. These people were ambitious. I nodded, making a decision. "All right, I'm in."

THE PARTY WOUND DOWN, as parties do. Serena only tried to ditch me a couple of times. I foiled her, she pouted, and everything was pretty much normal for a job like this. She was finally ready to go, so I called the car around.

"Oh, that was fun," she said, settling back into her seat with a tired sigh. "Who was that short lady I saw you talking to?"

"An old friend." I drummed my fingers on the console.

"Really? I didn't know mercenaries were allowed to have friends." She sounded slightly bitter; I guess she was still upset that I hadn't let her slip off with Random Boy #2.

"It's generally considered a bad idea."

"Hmph." She looked out the window and stiffened. "Hey, not to be picky or anything, but we're going the wrong way."

"I'm not taking you home." My tone was a whole lot calmer than I felt.

That woke her up. "I - you - what?"

"See the car ahead of us? We're going with them, and your dad is probably getting a call about now about your ransom."

"But, but, he paid you! To keep me safe!" She still couldn't believe it.

"Oh, you're safe. No one's going to hurt you. As for payment, I'm getting a lot more for this than he paid me." Which wasn't strictly true. I shot her a look. "What do you think the definition of 'mercenary' is, anyway?"

"I didn't think it was 'dishonourable coward'." She slapped me, hard.

Fluffy hissed and poked her head out from under my jacket. "Serena?" Her eyes widened; she'd noticed that I'd dropped the "Miss Burns" bit. "Remember what I said about Zilants only biting when provoked?" She shrank back against the door, nodding frantically. "Don't provoke the Zilant."

"WHAT ... WHAT'S GOING to happen?" Her voice quavered, and she looked like she might start to cry.

"Nothing much. However," I paused to make sure I had her full attention. "You need to do exactly what I say, when I say to do it. Immediately. Got me?"

"And why should I do that?" Crossing her arms, she stared out the front window, back to being mad again.

"Because, as annoying as you are, I don't want you to die. This is an iffy proposition, so do what I say and both of us will come out of it okay. Also?" I grabbed her chin and made her look at me. A big tear spilled down her cheek. "Don't try anything stupid." Leave that to me, I thought.

We circled around to the back of a high building and zipped underneath it into a garage. Parking next to Tina and her companions, I exited the car with my zapper in one hand and the other hand engulfing Serena's upper arm. She stumbled, and I said, "Take those horrible shoes off and throw them in the car." I was glad to see her obey with no hesitation. Fluffy had gone back into hiding under my jacket.

Tina lifted her eyebrow at my insistence on carrying my zapper. "You don't trust us?"

"No." I snorted. "Be just like you to kill me where I stand and finish the job yourselves instead of cutting me in. Just feel fortunate that I'm not pointing it at you. Yet."

"I told you he was smart," she said to the others. Not taking any chances, they had their zappers out too. Hurrah for all being armed and dangerous.

"Yeah, and I want to see your boss in person and get assurance from him that this deal goes exactly the way we discussed it." I gestured for them to get into the lift tube in front of us.

Tina put her palm on a reader and punched some numbers into the keypad. "This'll take us directly into Mr Moriel's penthouse. He's expecting us."

"Good." That meant I didn't need them anymore.

Before I could make my play, Tina said, "You know, Jake, I thought you'd be a little more cautious than this." She aimed her zapper at my chest. "Four to one odds are more than you usually like." The other thugs followed her lead. I heard Serena gulp, and Fluffy stirred.

"So, that's how it is, huh?" I said.

"'Fraid so. Moriel's orders. Nothing personal, but he thinks of you as a -;"

Tina always did like to talk too much. The sonic knife under my sleeve fell into my hand as I flexed my arm, and I swept the blade around and slashed Serena's throat.

NO ONE EXPECTED THAT. Sonic knives are messy; blood sprayed the confines of the lift tube, and Serena let out a gurgle, falling to her knees. Tina and her thugs gaped in slack-jawed shock just long enough for me to get a shot off with my zapper. The face of one guy burnt through to the back of his skull.

Fluffy flapped out from under my jacket, giving them something scarier than me to worry about. One bite from her, and another man fell in convulsions that lasted only a few seconds before he died. I fired again, and the third guy went down, head fried, his own shot going high and missing.

Tina got off a snap shot with her own zapper that scorched my shoulder. She shouted, "Jake! Wait, we can fix —"

Her mistake was not aiming for my head. I aimed for hers, and it vanished in a gout of acrid smoke. I held the trigger down far longer than was necessary.

"Nothing personal, my ass," I muttered. Kneeling beside Serena, I pushed her hair out of her face. She hadn't died yet, but nearly, her eyes big and baffled. "Sorry, babe." I really was. "But your dad'll get you fixed up good as new, when we're out of this. Won't even leave a scar. These guys would've killed you really dead instead of mostly dead."

Her lips moved soundlessly. Blessing? Curse? I didn't know, and had no time to find out as the lift dinged and stopped.

I scooped up a thug's zapper as the door opened. Moriel wasn't expecting me to be standing there, amid the smoking bodies of his hirelings, with a Zilant hovering over my head.

Unluckily for him, he only had two bodyguards. They were well-armed and experienced but I was moving before the lift opened completely, rolling on the floor and firing. Fluffy flew into the penthouse, hissing and creating a diversion of her own.

Instead of fanning out and making it harder for me to aim, the guards were trained to place themselves between Moriel and whatever danger threatened. They died quickly.

But not before one of them got off an energy bolt that burned its way through my chest and out my back. Moriel scrabbled in his desk drawer for a weapon. My legs didn't want to hold me up, and I collapsed to my knees. Vision going dark ...

I fought it. This was the man responsible for Katerine's death. I focused my rage and hate just enough for one final salvo. Firing at the same time Moriel did, I was satisfied to see him fall with the top of his head charred off.

However, his shot hit me in the chest, leaving a smoking hole where my lung belonged. Sent me flying back, into the elevator. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. A worried snakeface over me, flicking its tongue, was the last thi—

THANKS FOR THE MEDTECH, " I said to Burns, pulling cheroot smoke into my new lungs. "You didn't have to do that." We sat in his study with brandy and cigars, hashing the job over.

He waved his hand. "The whole situation was pear-shaped to begin with, and you managed to save Serena's life anyway - although you picked an ... interesting method."

"It almost didn't work. If Moriel's secretary hadn't shown up when she did, we would've both been permanently dead and the real story would never have got out." I hadn't planned on dying myself, and that put a damper on any satisfaction I felt. Waking up on trial with a probe in my brain, waiting for a new heart and lungs, had been a nasty shock I was still recovering from.

Burns growled, "I don't like you using my daughter to get at Moriel. You're a ruthless son of a bitch. If I didn't think it would have gone worse if you hadn't pretended to go along with them, I'd be having a real different reaction right now."

I couldn't say much about that. The probe had dug right down into my ulterior motives, and the boss was calling me on it - which he was right to do. I half-shrugged. He added, "That being said, life will be a lot easier without Moriel around. What are you going to do now?"

"Find the next job." Although after this fiasco, it might be harder to find.

"Come work for me." His tone was light, his gaze intense over his brandy snifter.

"I doubt Serena would approve," I said with a wry smile.

"She suggested it."

I nearly choked on my cheroot. "Huh. Well." Steady income might be nice. I knew Burns was a stand-up guy who wouldn't cheat me at the first opportunity. I'd already seen what he was willing to pay. "Okay, sure." We shook hands on it.

He said, "Try not to kill her next time you go out."

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Julie Frost has a degree in biology and lives in the Salt Lake Valley of Utah, with her husband, son, two uncatlike cats and a hyperactive French Brittany gun dog

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