Wings of Retribution (20 page)

Stuart nodded.

“Hard?” Koff asked sharply.

“Not hard,” Stuart said into the floor.  “I used up most of my energy on you and Sergeant Griffin.  It will take weeks to recharge.”

“You couldn’t see, couldn’t hear,” Koff mused.  “You’re a brave little parasite, I’ll give you that.”

Stuart looked up, put off guard by the compliment.  “I was pissing my pants.”

Koff laughed.  “I’m sure you were.”  He got to his feet and moved out of sight behind Stuart. 

Stuart miserably lowered his head and stared at the rug on the other side of the clear plastic barrier, waiting for Koff to drive his knife through Earl’s skull. 

He heard the plastic crinkle near his side and Stuart felt a warm pressure against his host’s wrists.

His…
wrists
?  Stuart lifted his head, craning his neck to see.

Koff was squatting beside him, knife in one hand, ropes binding his wrists in the other.  He gave Stuart a long look. 

Then Koff slid the knife between his wrists, freeing his hands.  As Stuart tried to digest that, Koff did the same for his ankles.

Stuart let his limbs fall where they were dropped, then gingerly crawled to a sitting position a few yards away, facing Koff.  He wanted to say a thousand things, had a million questions in his mind, fought with a dozen different emotions.  First and foremost amongst them was hope.  Could Koff be convinced to host him again, willingly?  The thrill of that possibility was enough to lift him from the overwhelming despair that had been his last five millennia.

“Thanks,” Stuart managed.

“No problem.”  Koff sat back on the floor and winced, holding his side.  “Think you could find me a doctor?”

Stuart cringed with another wave of guilt.  “Rabbit might know of one.”

“One who won’t talk?”  Koff gave him a lopsided grin.  Probably a damaged motor nerve somewhere. 

Stuart bit his lip and looked down.  “You could go back to the Utopia.”

“And have them put me in isolation?”  Pete scoffed.  “I don’t think so.”  He tapped his chest with a thumb.  “Pete, here’s, smarter than that.”

Stuart lifted his head, hopeful.  “So what will you do?”

“I don’t know.  I planned on retirement, put a few hundred credits away each paycheck, but I never planned on havin’ my brain taken over by an alien.”  Koff gave him a sideways look and a nervous chuckle.  “God, no offense to the poor bloke you’re riding now, but
damn
am I glad that’s over.  Never again, man.  I’d shoot myself first.”

The despair came back like the blow from a colonial freighter.  Stuart glanced at his feet.  If Koff had cursed him, cut him, or ridiculed him, Stuart wouldn’t have felt so bad.  The corporal, however, merely seemed to take the whole experience as matter-of-fact and without much venom.  It made Stuart feel as dirty as the criminal whose brain he occupied.

“You think he’s got something to eat around here?” Koff said.  He grinned and patted his stomach, green eyes amused.  “You forgot to feed me, boss.”

“We can ask Rabbit when he comes back,” Stuart said, feeling drained.

“Not the kind to take to people diggin’ around in his stuff, eh?”  Koff glanced at the other half of the apartment room, then sighed wistfully.  Getting up, he walked over and held out his hand.  “I’m Pete.”

Stuart stared down at the man’s hand in confusion.

“Generally, when a man holds out a hand for you to shake, you do it before he gets all butthurt and socks ya one,” Koff said, green eyes dancing.

Stuart swallowed.  “Stuart,” he said, taking the hairy hand.  “At least, that’s as close as I can get using a human tongue.”

“A Stu, eh?” Koff said, giving it a good shake.  “I swore you had the look of a Bill or a Travis.”  Pete laughed and then groaned, hugging his side.  “I really need a doctor.”

With awkward movements, Stuart lurched to the back door and pulled it open.  Rabbit was leaning against the wall outside.  He gave Stuart a startled look and then glanced behind him at Koff.

“He’s still alive?”

“Alive and kickin,” Pete agreed, grinning.  “But I need a doctor.”

Rabbit glanced from Stuart to Pete and back.  The little man seemed to realize the horrible position he had put Stuart in, for he winced.  “I thought you killed ‘em when you moved on.”

“Just get him a doctor,” Stuart said.

“Hell,” Rabbit muttered.  “Hell.”  He stepped inside and shut the door.  “No offense, but it’d save us a lot of heartache if we axed him and dropped him somewhere in the Snail District.”

“I saw his latest host,” Pete agreed.  “And my goddamn ribs are killin’ me.  Might be a blessing to put me outta my misery.”

“We’re not killing him.”  The words came before Stuart realized he had said them.

Rabbit gave him an irritated glance.  “I’ll get him a Doc.  But I don’t want him singing to the Utopis about how I helped you.  As soon as my man finds out where they ditched Athenais, we move.  If I don’t trust him by the time we hop aboard my shuttle, he’s dead.”

“Q-4, 2112.23X, 6.001Y, -331.89Z off Spacepath 24335, C-Block.”

Stuart and Rabbit stared at Pete.

“What was that?” Rabbit demanded.

“Coordinates, I think,” Pete said.  He twisted, lifted an arm, put his nose under his armpit, and sniffed.  Immediately, he yanked his head away, wincing.

Rabbit took a step closer, his brown eyes narrow.  “Whose coordinates, Utopi?”

“Ain’t a Utopi no more,” Pete said.  “Got colonist blood in me anyway.”  He glanced up and shrugged.  “It’s what the navigator’s screen showed down in the lower right of the 3-D thingie in front of him when we were preparing to board.”

“Those are
Beetle’s
coordinates?” Rabbit snapped.

Pete grinned wider.  “May have had a creepy-crawly in my head, but I still got a photographic memory.  Any chance I could get a piece of cheese or something?”

Rabbit glanced at Stuart, then hurried inside and rustled through his desk for a personal datascreen, which he thrust at Pete.  “Write them down.”

“I’m not gonna forget them.”

“Write them down.”

Pete sighed and took the datascreen.  He entered the coordinates and handed it back to Rabbit.  “Now’s the part where you shoot me and hide my corpse in the Snail District, right?”

Rabbit narrowed his eyes at the man.  “That can be arranged.”

“We’re not killing him.”

Rabbit glanced up at Stuart.  “It’d be the smart thing to do.”

Stuart thought back to the horrible terror of being held between Pete’s fingers and shook his head.  “We’re not killing him.”

Rabbit made a disgusted sound.  “Fine.  But he’s
your
responsibility.”  He tapped a slender finger in the middle of Stuart’s host’s chest.  “He turns on us and I’m singing to the world that there’s still a
suzait
alive and well living amongst us.”

 “
In
us,” Pete said with a chuckle.

“Shut up.”  Rabbit rounded on Stuart.  “Those are my terms, parasite.”

Stuart prickled.  “Fair enough.”

“I still need a doctor,” Pete reminded them.

Rabbit went to the front door and wrenched it open.  Immediately, a din of drunken conversation flowed in from the bar outside.  Rabbit called for Giggles and then shut the door again.  He went to the wall infoscreen and entered the coordinates Pete had given him.  Apparently satisfied, he flipped his handheld closed and stuffed it into his shirt.

“Whatcha want, boss?”  Giggles stuck his head inside and gave Pete a curious look.  He flinched when he saw Stuart alive and standing, with only minimal blood on the plastic.  “Uh…  You need some help wi’ the big guy?” he asked, eyes on Stuart.

“Get a doctor,” Rabbit ordered.  “One who can keep his mouth shut.  Send him to
Aurora.
  You were right.  Darley broke some ribs.”

Grunting, Giggles gave Stuart one last curious look, then backed out and shut the door.

On the floor, Pete looked disappointed.  “I’m not going to a regen chamber?”

Rabbit scoffed as he moved around the room, collecting items.  “Regen chambers are for legitimate medical practices and long-distance ships.  Maybe Athenais will let you use hers.”

“So what’s a doctor gonna do for me?” Pete demanded.

“Give you a few drugs.  Tell you to suck it up, most like.”

“Great,” Pete muttered.

“You can still take that trip to the Snail District,” Rabbit offered.  “My treat.”

“No thanks.  Never was a fan of escargot.”

Rabbit’s cold features cracked in a grin.  “Stuart, help him up.  We’ll meet the Doc at my ship.”

“We’re
taking
him?” Stuart asked, a little stunned.  “I thought that was the whole reason I was changing hosts…”

Rabbit gave him a hard look.  What little amusement he had gained a moment before was gone in an instant.  “We’re certainly not leaving him behind.”  He cocked his head.  “And, if you’re feeling squeamish, you can always kill him.”

Pete laughed.  “If you need me to come along to make sure I’m not giving you faulty coordinates, that’s fine with me.  I’m looking forward to that regen chamber.”

Rabbit scowled at Pete, then pushed the back door open.  “Come on.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Pete fell in behind Rabbit, still holding his side.  Stuart followed, shutting the door behind them.

A Fairy’s Busted Wings

Athenais was in the middle of nodding off when a garbled crackle filled the control room.  At first, she thought Dune was ineptly trying to use Squirrel’s fancy new intercom system again and she moved to push the send button to guide him through it, only to realize that the intercom was down, the console dark.  Confused, she stared at the panel, wondering why the control lights were off.  She’d have to get Squirrel to check the wiring.  She started to get up when the garble came again, clearer this time.

Longship
Beetle,
this is Aurora.  You’ve drifted out of your last known coordinates.  Do you copy?

Aurora
was Rabbit’s ship.  Athenais sat up and fumbled again for the intercom.  She took the remote and held it to her ear and said, “Rabbit, I’m thinking about painting Beetle blue so it blends in with Penoi.  What do you think?”