The Amazing Tales of Wildcat Arrows (12 page)

"Thanks for the warning," Wildcat murmured.

The shadow moved along the wall.

Wildcat crossed his arms over his chest. "What took you so long to get to me on Cretion?"

The shadow wafted directly in front of him.

"I expected you a lot sooner, Cloud."

A dark film wavered into a partial shape. A non-apologetic shape.

"You left me in that hellhole for six months." Wildcat tapped his moccasin against the steel floor.

A slow grin appeared within the nebulous figure. White teeth glinted with a flash, then disappeared in smoke.

It reminded Wildcat of a dangerous Cheshire cat.

"Not sure what you find enjoyable about the situation. It was not a pretty vacation. So where were you?"

A vision of the four beautiful Mysitkian mountains rose in front of Wildcat. He was not sure what
that
meant—except that the Auran had been detained. With mountains? Sometimes Cloud's images were to be poetically interpreted.

The grin reappeared; wider this time.

"Alright; so you know I don't know what that means. Dammit, Cloud, quit jerking me around."

Cloud partially materialized in front of him.

Wildcat could see right through him. He was an amorphous being from a race of twilight assassins. Highly skilled in stealth and killing. Aurans—when they could be counted on to work for hire—were the best known weapons in the universe.
Living weapons
.

Wildcat was one of the few who could readily converse with a member of their species. Some said it was a natural talent; but no one knew why some could and most couldn't.

Wildcat did not know why he was able to 'talk' with Cloud either; he just knew he could. Aurans communicated telepathically with pictures. Both in your head and out. He wondered if they understood
spatial
relationships differently.

Most could not engage with beings outside their own species.
⁵

As far as the Aurans were concerned, no one knew too much about them save that they were excellent killers.

Thus, their feared reputation.
⁶

For a reason Wildcat had never quite figured out, Cloud had decided he was going to work for
him;
even though he never actually hired him or went looking for him. He was not sure what he had done to get his very own Auran; but he suspected he would one day find out.

Cloud had just appeared one day and had stuck with him ever since. Over time, the two had become fast friends.

If one could become friends with an assassin.

Still, Wildcat trusted Cloud with his life and would risk his own to save the Auran.

He was sure Cloud knew that.

Sometimes he wondered if the Auran had somehow 'adopted' him.

Crazy notion, but there was no tellin'.

Most did not know Wildcat travelled with his own personal assassin and he intended to keep it that way.

For both their sakes.

Every corporate skunk would be on Wildcat's tail if they thought they could reach an Auran through him.

"We have to get back to the
Babe
as soon as possible."

Cloud agreed.

"I don't think our hosts are completely honorable, buddy."

…
an image of Kokol selling the Sugarbabe to the blackmarket Nugnug formed in his head
…

"Exactly. Any ideas?"

It was unusual for someone to receive Auran images, but it was even more unusual for an Auran to interpret spoken language. As far as Wildcat knew, Cloud was the only one of his species to have that ability.

"Any thoughts on how to get free of our hosts?"

…
Wildcat saw himself jumping ship when it docked
…

He discounted the idea. "Too risky. There's no guarantee I could do it even with your help. We're outnumbered fifty to one. And let's not forget these are Zoltarians; Kokol's sure to take extra precautions if they dock at a terminal."

Cloud seemed annoyed that Wildcat had so little faith in his abilities. An image of a shipload full of dead pirates seared into his brain, re-emphasizing the Auran's initial getaway plan.

"Yeah. I know you can do that. I just don't want you to."

Cloud's form wavered in and out. The slight smile, when visible, was utterly chilling. If the Auran could've talked, he would have said, "It would be my pleasure to do it."

Wildcat pointed a finger at him. "You're scaring me, pal."

Cloud grinned.

"Have you heard from Lucky?"

…
Cloud leaving the ship right after Wildcat disappeared
…

"You started looking for me right away? And here I thought you didn't care. So, no word from the Sugarbabe I take it?"

… A
spaceship twirling wildly through space… SpinDrift running around clucking his head off… Clugot staring fixated at a console
…

Wildcat chuckled. "Yep. No tellin' what they've done. We've gotta get back a.s.a.p."

Cloud was in agreement. Both believed that the longer they were away, the least likely the Sugarbabe and its crew would remain in one piece.

…
Wildcat wrestling with Kokol on her bed
…

"Hell, no. I'm not sleeping with her again."

Cloud gave him a stare that contained much amusement—yet still managed to retain an air of lethal 'assassin' about it. It was hard to believe an entity who acted as precisely as the Auran did, could, at times, be so very unpredictable.

Wildcat supposed it was the nature of the Auran. Chilling one moment and… well, chilling the next.

"She's going to get suspicious if I don't get back there soon."

Cloud whirled over to the disinfector and slashed at it so quickly that if it wasn't for the sound of the tip slicing off the nozzle, Wildcat wouldn't have known it had been split. Cloud gestured to the nozzle indicating that it was now safe for Wildcat to cleanse himself.

"Thanks." Wildcat stepped under the spigot. A spray of fog instantly enveloped him.

If the device was like others he had used on various refueling stations, it should clean and disinfect both him and his clothes at the same time. He threw the shirt he was carrying in front of the spray as well.

"As long as this gets the stink of those orzon mines off me, I will be as happy as a
slubbug
."

… Wildcat stumbling back to the Captain, tumbling onto the bed with her… then falling immediately asleep.

Wildcat stroked his jaw. "Not a bad idea. I'll play dead and then she
might
try to contact the Sugarbabe…"

The same scene replayed in his head; only this time the Zoltarian in the seductive pose was replaced with a rapidly changing montage of women from Wildcat's past.

Wildcat threw the Auran a withering look. "Yeah, well…"

Cloud grinned at his discomfort. It was obvious that Wildcat did not like his past dalliances
replayed for him
in his head.

Which was why Cloud always goaded him with it whenever the opportunity arose.
⁷

"You know, Cloud, I'd be disappointed if Kokol didn't figure out how to reach the ship; especially since I gave her my real name just so she could put it all together."

…
Kokol ticking off her long fingernails one by one as she tries to count from one to five, s-l-o-w-l-y… looses her place… keeps starting over, confused
…

Wildcat snorted. "An assassin and a comedian. Who said the Sugarbabe isn't blessed? Let's hope you're right and she's not the brightest star in the Milky Way. We might be able to get out of this relatively unscathed when all's said and done. I just hope Lucky and that noghead SpinDrift haven't done anything stupid in the meantime."

Cloud sent him a brief movie of Lucky looking up into space as if she was getting a great idea! Followed by a series of scenes of natural Earth disasters like the collapse of the Tacoma Narrows bridge in 1940, the great San Franciscan earthquake of 1906, and the Blizzard of 1978, which stalled six lanes of traffic on Massachusetts highways to a frozen standstill for days.

Wildcat understood the message perfectly.

"
Vis inertiae
." He grunted. "Resistance to inertia is futile." When it came to Lucky and SpinDrift it was a foregone conclusion that trouble was always brewing.

He wondered how much of his ship would still be left for him to actually save.

Back on the Sugarbabe

Kerreth could see the skin of Lucky's midriff under the edge of the black shirt she wore. With every step, the soft material slid against that smooth, creamy expanse. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off of that revealing waistband…

Which was why he shouldn't have stepped behind to let her lead the way in the first place.

But what choice did he have? He had no idea where her cabin was located.

Stop looking at that skin, dimwit. Do not even gaze at it. You are heading down a dangerous path, Kerreth vos Volent.

There was no way he could stop himself.

She was so delectable… !

His heart begin to beat with a familiar heavy
thud thud
as he trailed the corridors behind her. Yeah, she had a galaxy-class backside. High, tight, round. A weighty handful.

Just the way he liked it.

If that wasn't temptation enough—he added in the curvy shape, small waist, and spirited, bouncy breasts. He had noted earlier that her breasts also looked like a nice palmful for him.

Not too big. Not too small, either. Just perfect.

And all that crazy, wild red hair!

She was gorgeous.

Best of all, she had none of the boring affectations of the women he was usually put together with—and it would be fair to say he had been with his share. Beautiful women. Sophisticated women.

So why was
this one
getting to him so much?

He needed to keep his distance from her. The Heart of the Merchandiser had to come first.

But that didn't mean he couldn't lead her on for a bit.

If she (and that ridiculous Floop) wanted to believe that his crotch was explosive—Well, for that she deserved a little teasing.

Leading the way, Lucky walked into a closed door. "
Ow
!"

"Ah, are you trying to make yourself unconscious before our big bang arrives?"

"Don't be stupid." She rubbed her nose. "It was supposed to open automatically. This loony tune ship is nothing but spare, two-bit parts; it never works the way it should!"

Frustrated, she kicked the door. It smoothly flowed open for her. "Argh!"

He suppressed a grin. Lucky stormed inside the cabin.

It was clear she was not too happy about the predicament they found themselves in: a stolen Masterstroke 6000, no jewel, extermination imminent, and Wildcat Arrows suspiciously absent. Where was the tracker anyway? There had been no sign of him onboard.

Kerreth followed her inside and gazed around the room.

There wasn't a spare inch of space.

The metal walls were covered with a draping woven fabric that swooped over the narrow bed in a sort of lopsided canopy. A small desk was cluttered with oddities. Most of them were souvenirs from various worlds—the kind you pick up on a whim at the way station shops. Additional fabrics were draped over a table and scattered clothes were tossed on top of that.