The Science Officer (10 page)

It would be impolite to tell the dragon–lady if he was wrong. She’d just shoot the guy out of hand and be done with it. Maybe he didn’t deserve that. Maybe he did. You never knew.

Fortunately, Javier was prepared for this sort of thing. These people had no clue what to do on the surface of a hostile world. Obviously, they needed a Science Officer to keep them alive.

Next question, did he want them alive?

Most of them were just folks, doing what they needed to do to get through their day. Not particularly evil or vile creatures.

Sykora, on the other hand…Yeah, he owed her a few. Be interesting to wind her sideways on a good hallucinogenic sometime. Might even make her tolerable. Maybe he should try it. She seemed like she was trying to be nicer than she had been.

Ah, what the hell.

Javier picked up the portable and started typing. He had an expert handy. Let her do the heavy lifting.

Suvi, I know you are in range. Please scan the tea with your laser spectrograph and let me know your results. Quietly.

Javier smiled. One of the new berry species he was exploring had originally been evolved from something called Moroccan Dreamberries. Maybe he needed to spend some time breeding a few crops back into the mother line and see if he could amp up some of the more interesting chemical signatures.

Hell, Sykora might even smile.

Around him, the crew smiled and toasted with the poisoned tea. They didn’t seem to notice the slightly metallic taste underneath, but they weren’t used to living with this level of paranoia.

Nobody was.

Javier watched Sykora drain her mug in a single shot. It was larger than everyone else’s, but she was a big girl. Javier was really, really torn.

He faked taking another sip.

Sykora rapped her cup lightly to get the dude’s attention with a “more, please,” as well. Please? That was kinda scary, coming out of her mouth without being drug by horses.

As Lemuel stepped around to pour her more tea, Javier surreptitiously poured his cup out on the ground and shifted a heel over it to cover the mud until it soaked into the ground.

His portable computer beeped with a message.

Please tell me you didn’t drink any of the tea. Scan identifies trace amides of ergoline present. Expect psycho–chemically–induced hallucinations, possibly with additional soporific qualities. *** DANGEROUS!!! ***

Javier grinned to himself. Rapid acid trip and a nap. Not necessarily a bad thing, if he was in a controlled setting with people he trusted, or locked in a small hotel room by himself. At least it hadn’t been bad last time.

This time was gonna be different. Javier doubted that the local was unaware of the effects of his tea on people. So what was Lemuel going to do about it? And, more importantly, what should he do?

Ξ

Lemuel worked very hard to keep a smile on his face as everyone drank the dreaming tea, including the three lesser harlots and the spawn of the unnamable Dark One who led them. Sleep would take them soon, darkness tinged with terror and no escape. Then, he would begin his crusade into the broader universe.

And, as a bonus, the friendly one, Javier, was going to help him kill these people.

From the corner of an eye, Lemuel had watched Javier pour out his tea instead of drinking it. He had known a moment of panic as he stood before The Harlot with all her guns, attempting to be calm while pouring, but Javier had remained silent.

It was a
Sign
.

Lemuel returned to his spot by the small fire and sat the kettle down, listening to the ribald banter flowing back and forth between the strangers. The Dreaming would take them soon. All he had to do was wait, and offer up a small prayer to The Lord for the souls that he was about to send to their final resting place.

Already the tea took its toll. The least harlot was slumped in on herself, precariously balanced with her head down, ripe for the slightest nudge to fall over.

Lemuel smiled.

The heavily armed male was next. Even from here, Lemuel could see his pupils begin to dilate as his speech became labored. In the middle of a word, his brain passed the threshold into sleep. He fell against one of the harlots in green and collapsed atop her in a crude approximation of mating.

Lemuel held his breath as he counted bodies. All were down, save for Javier his friend, and The Harlot who was his adversary’s very avatar on Earth. And even she was on the final stages of crisis. He could see the painful realization of failure take hold of her mind, shackled by the twin narcotic hammers of sleep and nightmare, beating away at her walls.

Lemuel knew a moment of total panic as she rose to her knees and drew one of her weapons, pin–prick eyes locked on him like a missile. Before he could move, the weapon came up. Lemuel held his breath.

The shot stirred a puff of dirt between them as darkness claimed her. The Harlot crumpled face down, her very will defeated, the pistol fallen before his Adversary could strike.

Hers would be a quick, painless death. He owed her that much.

Lemuel reached down and picked up one of the rocks that marked the boundary of his fire pit. It was hot to the touch, but he did not feel it. In his mind, he could already see skulls caved in under the fierce impact of this stone. The Lord had spoken to him.

It would be like before. Anya dead on the deck, her blood splattered randomly on the walls in a message he had spent seventeen years trying to decipher. Thomas and Mohr aghast, but unwilling to challenge him. Escape across several systems until they were safe from pursuit and could live out their lives as men, without the creeping infestation of the harlots turning them from the path of righteousness.

Lemuel smiled and hefted the rock. The Harlot would be first to die. She could lead her troop into hell personally. He took a step forward to begin the crusade.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you…”

Ξ

Javier felt like a shit.

Here, he’s spent weeks dreaming of ways to get even with Sykora for all the things she’d done to him. Planning ways he could escape and bring down the full force of the Concord Fleet on these bastards, hang them from the highest yardarm, pay them back for Suvi and
Mielikki
.

And now, here he was.

He watched the local dude count them falling with a smile on his face. Okay, so not an accidental overdose, after all.

The rock was a very bad sign. It meant things were about to get stupid.

Javier considered the man. Half a head taller than him. Maybe an extra ten kilos of mass. And right now, the sort of crazy fire in the eyes that just meant everything was about to go to hell. He’d finally figured out that look with his second ex–wife.

Still, he was twenty years younger, and had kept up his close combat training over the years. He should be able to take this guy.

Time to save the crew from their own innocent stupidity.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” Javier announced in the sort of voice he always heard in the videos.
Never thought I’d be able to actually say that in a real situation
.

He watched Lemuel turn stupidly to stare at him, a jagged five–kilo rock in one hand like a primitive ape’s hammer.

“Javier?” the guy was confused, and maybe a bit put out.

“I can’t let you kill these people, Lemuel,” Javier continued, trying to be soothing. “Drop the rock and we’ll make sure you get back to civilization and get the treatment you need. I realize you’ve been out here a long time and kinda gone stale. We can help.”

Javier watched, hopeful, as the crazy seemed to ebb in the guy’s eyes, just for a second. Maybe he could talk his way out of this, after all.

And then the fire came back, twice as nuts. “No,” Lemuel roared, “The Harlot must die. All harlots must be destroyed if men are to achieve righteousness. So sayeth The Lord.”

Javier watched as the man turned, ignoring him, and reared back with the rock, poised over Sykora’s unconscious form.

Shit.

Javier took two running steps and tackled the man before Lemuel could crush Sykora’s skull. He landed on top of the guy and got in a couple of good body blows. That just seemed to piss him off.

Javier had never understood the term until now, thought it was a joke.
Rage Strength
. Lemuel took him by surprise. The man flipped him backwards with two hands to the chest, leaving Javier suddenly on his back a meter away.

And then the gorilla was on him. They traded punches. Javier felt his brain rattle around inside his skull. Lemuel didn’t seem to notice. Okay, not good.

Javier hooked the lunatic with his foot, twisted them both until he ended up on top. One. Two. Three shots to the side of the head. That just seemed to make him angrier.
Crap
. Was this guy made of brick? That always worked in the movies.

Two big gorilla hands came up and grabbed Javier’s throat. Air suddenly became a commodity. Javier shifted, tried to break loose.

Lemuel twisted him, shook him like a rag doll. Suddenly he was face up in the dirt again.

Lemuel stared down with a fiery rage as his hands continued to squeeze. “Why, Javier?” he raged. “She is The Harlot. She is Evil’s Mistress. Her kind must be destroyed. You could have helped me, joined me. WHY?”

Movement out of the corner of his eye as things started to get black. Javier smiled into the face of death. Lemuel had longer arms, but Javier could still rabbit punch him in the ribs, keep his attention focused down here, keep him really angry. Not that that was hard to do. Just stay awake a little longer.
I can do that
.

“Because,” Javier said calmly, timing it just like in all the movies he’d ever seen, “because it’s wrong.”

The remote slammed into the side of Lemuel’s head at full speed with a thunderous crack. Javier felt the man go slack as he slid to one side under the tremendous kick. Lemuel flopped over and lay next to him in the dirt.

Unlike Javier, however, he was no longer breathing.

Ξ

Suvi cursed like a sailor as she ran diagnostics on her flitter–ship. Almost everything was off–line, broken. At least she had rolled to a stop face up, although she could imagine a human would have been puking her guts up flipping that many times in a gravity well.

This was the second ship Javier had cost her. He was going to owe her. Big.

She watched him stagger to his feet, take two steps over to the portable computer and start punching keys.

Whatever he was typing, it had better be good. I’m stuck over here and this thing’s nearly broken. You owe me.

Suvi pouted.

Thank you for saving my life.

Oh. Well then, that made it all right.

Suvi smiled.

Part Six

Javier rapped on the closed door twice. Inside, a muffled “Enter,” and the door slid aside. He peeked into the small chamber.

Sykora’s cabin was stark and nearly bare. A desk, a tall locker shut tight, a bed. No pictures, no color, no scent, nothing. Stark, bare metal. The only hint of personality to be found was a ball of yarn, knitting needles, and something that might be half of a scarf, balled up next to her on the bed.

She was stretched out in her day uniform, ship slippers on her feet, boots lined up at the foot of the bed. She had been reading something on a portable screen, but she powered it off and set it one side when she recognized him.

“What is it, Aritza?” she asked. There was still an edge to her voice, but it was more tired and less grumpy than last week.

Javier hoped.

He leaned on the door after it closed, unwilling to enter any deeper into her sanctuary than necessary. Without her riding his ass all the time, he had time to do some research on her past.

Neu Berne society had proven to be quite interesting on further reading. He was already verging on impolite, just by being here in her cabin, uninvited, but didn’t want to have this conversation anywhere else on the ship, especially not where anyone could overhear.

Javier took a breath.

He’d come here to talk about nice things. Letting bygones be bygones. Stuff like that.

The speech he had planned already sounded wrong, so he tossed it aside and looked at her. Really looked at her. “I wanted to see how you were doing. Medbot said you got an extra hard dose of the stuff that lunatic tried to poison everyone with.”

He watched her bite back something sharp and sarcastic. It left a bilious taste in the air, but went unsaid, so it could be ignored. That was already an improvement, considering Sykora. She took a breath, looked down uncomfortably, fought visibly for the words.

Awkward moments passed.

“I think,” she said finally, “that the worst has passed.” She breathed. “According to the system, I will continue to have chemically–induced nightmares for several weeks, but I should be cleared for duty tomorrow.”

Javier nodded. “That’s good. We’ve missed you on the bridge.”

She rewarded him with a bleak, wan smile. “I’m sure, Aritza,” she said. “Always a party with you.”

Javier bit back his own snark. “Not always. Only when I need to lighten the mood. And you can call me Javier.”

She studied him for a second before she continued. “Okay.” A pause. “Javier.” Another pause. “I’ve been studying the video of the incident and your report. You knew what he was up to, and didn’t stop him until it was almost too late. Why?”

Javier sighed. This was why the door was closed. Suvi had edited out her part in things, and otherwise modified the tape to read like Javier was controlling things.

But she’d left everything else as it had been, including his own compliance.

“Because I wasn’t sure I was going to stop him.”

He watched an eyebrow go up mutely.

“You people are pirates, lady,” he continued. “There was a chance we could declare a medical emergency, suffer a couple of casualties, get the rest to medbay, and go from there. Make the galaxy a better place.”

“Casualties,” she chewed quietly on the word. “Who did you have in mind?” There were no doubts in her eyes, or her voice.