Black Guard, The (14 page)

Two hours and several drinks later
judging by their expressions and movements, they left the room and entered
their own rooms to dress for dinner. An hour later, they met for dinner.

"How would you describe
today?" Badal asked, sipping a glass of red wine. Sophia and Jovana’s eyes
locked onto me.

"Since you and your family are
alive and unhurt, I’d say it was a good day."

"What if one of your… team had been
hurt… killed?" Jovana asked. She was still mad about us not helping the
troopers.

"Princess Jovana, my team is my
family. If any one of them were killed, a part of me would die. But our
profession is war; therefore, dying and killing are an inevitable consequence.
My first responsibility is to protect our clients. That is the Black Guard’s
tradition, but my second responsibility is to minimize the loss of Guard
lives."

"How can you do that given your
first responsibility?" Sophia asked.

"By being vigilant and
anticipating our enemies’ actions."

"Like dropping my packages."

"Yes."

"What if they hadn’t been trying
to kill us, but just being polite?" Jovana asked.

"They would have helped pick up
the packages," I said. Badal laughed.

* * *

The doors to the conference room had no
sooner closed than Fermin pointed a finger at me, looked to the Speaker, and
shouted, "I want her arrested. She wantonly murdered two men who were
merely being polite and standing aside to let Princess Badal and her daughter
pass before entering the store. I knew those men. They weren’t killers."

"I received the city police’s
report this morning, Prince Fermin. Witnesses saw those men attack Princess
Sophia with knives, and their friends killed two of Prince Badal’s security
guards. The report concludes the attack was a planned attempt to harm Princess
Sophia to punish Prince Badal." The Speaker sounded tired. "If they
were friends, Prince Fermin, perhaps you could help the police determine who
was behind the attack."

"Nonsense. I demand satisfaction… from
her!" Fermin’s face was twisted and flushed red in anger. I smiled
mentally at the thought. I didn’t know his skill with weapons, but I knew mine
and the years that went into developing it.

"Sorry, Prince Fermin. As Prince
Badal will confirm, I don’t do contests or demonstrations or entertain. But if
someone draws a weapon on me, I will respond with deadly force. So if you are
considering drawing that weapon you’re playing with under your jacket, I hope
your affairs are in order."

"Frederic, please collect Prince
Fermin’s weapon," the Speaker said while watching Fermin. "Prince
Fermin, you know only the guards are allowed weapons inside the conference
room."

"She has one. I need it for
protection against that murdering bitch."

"She has permission. You don’t."

Fermin stood staring at me as he
debated his options. My mind quieted as I awaited his decision, not caring
whether he did or didn’t give up the weapon. Eventually the laser came out from
under his jacket. He hesitated a moment then handed it to Frederic, who took it
and walked back to his post.

"Now gentlemen, we have a long day
in front of us if we are to finish today."

* * *

"I usually enjoy seeing the city
and shopping, but I’ll be glad to get home," Sophia said, as they sat
eating dinner. "Perhaps the laws need to be changed to permit daughters to
rule."

Badal laughed, but put up his hand
before anyone could comment. "You and I should live so long. I wish you
could succeed me if I died first and Jovana after us, but I’m afraid that will
never happen in our lifetime. The Azarias are growing in strength and
ruthlessness each year. I believe that in time they will come into power. They
are not above a civil war if all else fails. Except for your insistence that I
hire the Black Guard for the trip to Hezuo, they would have succeeded this
year."

"Well, Captain Sapir, what are you
doing six months from now?" Sophia asked. She didn’t smile. Badal was
right. She would make a good ruler.

"I don’t know, Princess. I serve
at the will of the Jax."

* * *

We left Hezuo two days later, and to
Badal’s surprise, we had a military escort to the Surat border. It was obvious
the Speaker was concerned over Badal’s safety. Back at the estate, I was
notified that the Jax cruiser, Crouching Tiger,
had returned.

"No reflection on Colonel Jarde, but
I wish I could afford to keep you around. I can’t. The Jax are very expensive,
although I have to admit worth the credits. Do you have any suggestions?"

"You might consider letting
Colonel Jarde provide you with something close to Black Guard security. If you
wish, I could speak to him about what that could look like and the training
necessary."

"Thank you. I’d appreciate that.
Colonel Jarde is a good man: loyal, dedicated, and smart. If anyone can pull it
off, he can."

Two days later, two civilian shuttles
delivered us to the Molova space station, where the Jax cruiser waited. We were
loaded aboard and departed almost before the boarding bay was sealed. It had
been a good assignment—our clients were unhurt, my family survived, and I
had managed to keep tradition and duty intact.

I approached Commander Wexler’s
desk, stopped, and bowed low, looking towards the floor. As Commander of the
Black Guard, he was the only person accorded that honor from a Black
Guard—analogous to an animal exposing its vulnerable underbelly.

"At ease, Captain. I’m
pleased with your recent assignment. Of course, I’m usually pleased when our
client lives, and in your case, the captain manages to keep tradition and duty
together." He smiled and took a drink from the glass of water sitting on
his ebony desk. He picked up a small tablet, tapped on it, and my report
appeared as a holograph off to my left. "Have a seat, Sapir." He waved
to a wooden chair with black leather padding on the seat, back, and arms. When
I sat, he enlarged the holograph until it was easy to read from my chair and
his, which were roughly the same distance from the image.

"I was particularly
interested in your after-action-report since Molova was not a normal assignment
for the Guard. Normally, the army would accompany clients if they were in
transit. I assigned you specifically because you don’t seem to think
traditionally, maybe because you are new or maybe it’s just your nature. I need
to understand which and if that makes you more suitable for non-traditional
assignments or… whether that makes you unsuitable for the Guard." He
paused and stared at me as if the answer was hidden on me somewhere. The
thought that I might be unsuitable for the Guard made my heart pound so hard I
thought he must be able to hear it. "Does that sound strange, Sapir?"

"No, sir. The Guard is your
responsibility—its reputation, people, performance," I said. I felt
the same way about my team.

"Yes, in simple terms, the
Guard is my life, my family. So I must have captains I can trust, not only to
uphold the traditions of the Guard, but also to best utilize the people
assigned to him or her. And although I expect the Guard to die fighting to
protect our clients, no matter how unworthy, I’d much rather they found a way
to do it without losing a single life. You did that at Lanzhou—saved the
clients and minimized the Guard losses. Your solution both made me proud and
scared the shit out of me. If you had all died at the governor’s estate the
universe would have understood. But, if you had died in the forest, I’m not
sure if the universe wouldn’t have concluded the Guard ran in fear, even though
you didn’t."

"I understand, Commander. Perception
is important and could impact the Guard’s future relations."

"Exactly." He sat
flipping through my report. "Good call having Sergeant Catz kill Prince
Badal’s guards." He laughed at the section where I recounted the incident
with the replacement cook. "You may be more paranoid than me, Sapir."
He spent another hour going over each incident in the report, asking questions,
and probing my reasoning before settling back in his chair.

"I’m pleased with your
performance, Captain Sapir. I’m going to give you time to train with Tzadok. He
believes you have the potential to make dragon." He paused and frowned.
"I need someone to evaluate a new weapon designed for the Guard, but it’s
been designed by your family…" He left the sentence unfinished.
"Could I be impartial?
"
hung unspoken in the air.

"My family is the Guard,
Commander."

"They raised you and were
left with little choice when your mother conceived your brother Alvah." He
cocked his head, waiting for my response.

"Alvah was not an accident.
My father wanted sons, not daughters. He waited until Adam would be too old and
I would be the only one eligible. As a girl, I became a throw-away from birth.
Their religion puts little value on women beyond cleaning and childbirth,"
I said without anger or wanting to change the past. "At the time, I hated
my parents and wanted to die. But Hada, Captain Attali, dragged me into her
dream of the Guard. It’s a wonderful dream, and I’m at peace."

Wexler nodded and his face
softened. "Yes, it’s a beautiful dream. It also explains much about your
decisions at Lanzhou and Molova. Unlike Captain Attali who questions herself,
you do not. It’s now your turn to drag your sister into your world," he
said, a small smile reached his lips. "I’d like you to evaluate Mr. Sapir’s
new multi-functional weapon as a replacement for our present one. I will set up
a demonstration at the commando facility at Eillat. Until then, you are free to
work with Dragon Tzadok.

* * *

"You have greatly improved,
Rivka. As you must begin to understand, it’s not so much technique that makes a
dragon but a quiet mind. And it’s obvious that you are at peace with
yourself."

"I feel at peace. I feel like
this is where I belong, like there is no other place I’d rather be," I
said, using my shirt to wipe sweat from my face as we sat resting in the shade
of several pine trees after a two hour workout. Fighting with Tzadok this time
was… different. He could still best me, but I was making him work for those
wins and had scored one out of three times—Hada’s dream, to score against
a dragon.

"It’s apparent in your
fighting this week," he said, taking a drink of water and splashing some
over his head. "I enjoyed reading your report on the Molova assignment.
Your approach was interesting. Dragons are frequently assigned to a single person
and our approach is similar—never let the person out of your sight unless
he’s in a secure room you can guard." Tzadok laughed. "Like having
him under arrest."

"The Colonel isn’t sure he
likes my style," I said, seeking—if not advice, an opinion.

"Don’t worry about it.
Dragons make Commander Wexler nervous because we are too independent in our
thinking; therefore, he’s never sure what we will do in a given situation. He
feels that way about you. But you will be the first person he will put in a new
environment—like Molova. That showed a great deal of trust. The Commander
is a worrier. It goes with the territory. We are responsible for clients, but
he is responsible for the Guard. Wouldn’t trade him for the world nor want his
responsibility."

* * *

Wexler contacted me the next
afternoon, letting me know the demonstration had been arranged for two days
from then. I found the idea of me evaluating an Mfw designed by Sapir and Sons
Security Systems ironic—he wanted sons to carry on the business, but his
daughter would be evaluating their success.

* * *

A commando shuttle picked me up at
first light, and we arrived at Eillat early in the afternoon. The base was
located over twenty kilometers from the nearest town, which was Hadera were my
parents lived. When I exited the shuttle, a tall commando lieutenant stood
waiting next to a military ground vehicle. His curly brown hair and slightly
round face gave him a youthful look. He was dressed in their standard dark-blue
combat fatigues with their camouflage patterns. He straightened and saluted as
I approached.

"Captain Sapir, I’m
Lieutenant Yarden. Colonel Odelia sends his regards. I’m to escort you to him.
He’s waiting with the three men from Sapir Security Systems. A family
reunion?" he asked.

"No, Guard business," I
said, because anything else would generate more questions than I wanted to
discuss. He took the hint and spent the time pointing out various structures as
we sped by. "This area of the camp is primarily for those kids who passed
the introductory commando training, avoided the army but didn’t qualify for the
Guard," he said, followed by a good natured laugh. "It involves more
intense physical training. The area we are approaching is where the graduates
come to learn about life aboard a cruiser and boarding techniques."

It was strange to see several
cruisers resting on the ground near buildings rather than in the sky or at a
space station. I guess it saved time and money having to transport troops back
and forth.

"Erie looking, isn’t
it?" Yarden shook his head. "Gave me the creeps the first time I saw
it. Like you just entered another world where reality is upside down." He
pointed to our left. Off in the distance, I could see occasional puffs of smoke
and hear muffled sounds. "That’s the practice range and to the right is the
area where exercises are conducted. This facility encompasses over fifty square
kilometers." A minute later, he pulled off onto a side road and several
hundred meters later into a roped off area where several military vehicles were
parked. Through a long open shed with tables, I could see targets and behind
them a two-story bunker. Only a few people were currently there milling around
one of the tables. As we neared, I recognized my father and two brothers. My
father had gained weight and his face had more lines, but otherwise, he looked
the same. Adam looked the same except he had grown taller and filled out everywhere.
I could recognize Alvah only by his resemblance to Adam. His expression looked
curious while my father’s and Adam’s smiles looked strained.

"Colonel Odelia, this is Captain
Sapir, the Guard who Commander Wexler sent to evaluate the new weapon," he
said after a salute. Odelia and I exchanged shallow bows.

"Welcome, Captain Sapir. Are
you related to these Sapirs?" he asked.

"Yes, my birth father and
brothers."

"Seems strange sending family
to evaluate a potential contract," he said, waiting for a response.

"Would you approve an
unsuitable weapon made by your family for the commandos?"

The tension in his face relaxed.
"I apologize, Captain."

I turned towards my father and brothers.
"Good morning. If I could see the weapon, please." What more was there
to say?
Haven’t seen you in years?
Miss me?

"
Rivka, aren’t you
glad to see your family, your brothers?" Adam said with a forced
friendliness in his voice. He extended his hand. "We missed you."

"The Guard do not shake
hands, Adam. The weapon, please." Adam had laughed when my father said I
was being sent to the Jax military.

"Colonel, I object. My
daughter is clearly angry and seeking revenge. We are not going to get a fair
evaluation," Abram said, his voice rising several octaves by the last few
words.

"Captain Sapir is an officer
in the Black Guard. I have no authority over her. You may leave and lodge a
complaint with Commander Wexler, commander of the Guard, but I would advise
against it. Captain Sapir’s behavior has been normal. The Black Guard do not
salute anyone or shake hands or bow lower than they can see your eyes," he
said, fighting back a smile. Just then, Alvah walked up and handed me the
weapon.

"Here, sister. I think it’s
exciting having my sister a captain in the Black Guard. This Mfw was designed
with the Guard in mind. It’s a half kilogram lighter and four centimeters
shorter. It shoots nine-millimeter bullets at eighteen hundred rounds per minute—a
full three hundred rounds faster, the shard spread at twenty-five meters can be
varied from one to ten meters—two meters larger than standard, and it’s
capable of firing HEIAP, High Explosive Incendiary/Armor Piercing Ammunition,
at one hundred rounds per minute—a full fifty rounds faster."

"Thank you, Alvah," I
said, taking the weapon and examining the look, feel, and position of the
controls, turning it in my hands. "How does it attach to the thigh?"

"A holster like this one."
Adam stepped forward with a leather-looking holster with a red dragon embossed
on the side.

"Strap it on your leg, Adam,
and insert the weapon in it. I’d like to see how it works," I said,
anticipating the potential problem of drawing it. He did and then straightened
with a broad smile, probably imagining himself in the commandos or Guard.
"Good, I’ll give you five minutes to practice drawing it. Afterward, I’d
like a demonstration." I picked up a duplicate Mfw from the table and took
a couple of steps to stand facing the targets. "Alvah, would you explain
the controls to me, please?"

Alvah walked over, took the gun,
and pointed to a button that activated a small screen with multiple icons. The
icons activated the appropriate device while others, like the shard icon,
brought up another screen to control the spread of the shards.

"Can someone get me magazines
with live ammo?" I asked, and turned to Yarden. "Lieutenant, could
you or someone set up four targets at twenty-five and four at fifty meters?"

He nodded and waved to a corporal
as Abram walked up with several containers and handed them to Alvah, who
demonstrated where each was to be inserted. When I finished, I looked to Yarden,
who nodded and then pressed a button and a loud siren blasted out ten short
shrills well in excess of one hundred decibels.

"Ready on the range,
Captain," Yarden said after surveying the area. I clicked on the
nine-millimeter component and shot once each at the twenty-five and fifty meter
targets, then switched to shards, keeping the spread tight for the twenty-five
target and wide open for the fifty. Then I tried a HEIAP shell at the
twenty-five and fifty meter targets. Afterward, I ejected the magazines, handed
them and the Mfw back to Alvah, and I nodded to Yarden, who initiated a long
siren blast to indicate all firing should cease. He had the corporal collect
the targets and put up new ones at my request. I then turned to Adam.

"Please check the weapon to
ensure it isn’t loaded and then give me a demonstration of drawing the weapon.
Four or five times, if you will." I waited while he checked the weapon and
holstered it. Then he prepared himself like the gunfighters in the old Earth
movies. He flicked up the strap holding the weapon in the holster and drew it,
bringing it up in front of him in my direction. I stepped forward, slipping
sideway so the weapon was almost touching my stomach but pointing harmlessly
pass me. Simultaneously, I struck him in the solar plexus with my right hand
and snatched the weapon out of his hand with my left as the air exploded out of
him and he staggered backward, gasping for breath.