The Dancer's Summons Page 8

  Time had no meaning to a child in his situation with no holidays or birthday to no way to understand that the days were passing. But there was a time when the raiders became excited, and everyone left the eating room. What came next was the jerks and movements that were unusual for the ship he was on, and he got under the table. He wrapped his arms and legs around the middle stand of the table and just hung on, hoping that whatever was happening would end soon.

  After such a long time that his thin limbs were so tired that they were beginning to have cramps, there was the noise of people coming into the room. Their boots had a different sound on the metal floor than the heavy ones that kicked at him. Still, he did not let go of his safety pole.

  There was quiet talk, different than what the men and women usually shouted, and he looked over to see the bottom of who was walking around the table and chairs. They all seemed to be dressed differently than the ones who mistreated him, as they had on heavy boots that did not make a loud stomp. What he could see of the lower part of their hefty coats were all alike, in some dark color and moved when they walked.

  They were searching everything in the room, moving chairs and opening drawers and cabinets. Even a couple of times, he saw the back of someone who bent over to go through someone on the floor. Then one of the males had put a hand on the table and stooped over to peer under the table. Dark eyes were staring into Mutt's eyes.

  "Well, hello there. Are you holding up the table? That seems like an important job. But I think it is okay to let go and come out now. I bet the table will still stand on its own; what do you think?" The man's voice was low and pleasant, and now he smiled. He went down on a knee and looked at Mutt but didn't make a move to seem aggressive.

  Another man also dropped down so that he could see what was of interest to his copatriot under the table. This man had a surprised look on his face on seeing Mutt. "Fuck, they have a child on board." He just disappeared, and his feet moved away. Mutt decided the man must have been talking to the others in the nicer boots.

  The first guy still looked at Mutt. "So, why are you under the table?"

  Since the man was asking in a polite manner, something kicked in from his mom and dad's training, and he felt he needed to respond. "I stay under the table so they won't kick me, and I can find food."

  The man began reaching into one of his pockets. "That is very smart. It seems you are pretty sharp for a young man. I bet you are hungry and would like a candy bar. Here," with that, he held out a small bar wrapped in brown paper.

  Mutt looked at it and something stirred in his memory. It seemed like he had seen it sometime in the past. He let one tired shaky arm reach out to take the bar. With it, in a hand, he had to let go with the other to unwrap it. The smell hit him, and moisture immediately filled his mouth. The first bite was chocolate heaven.

  That was his introduction to the Dark Guardians.

  Chapter Ten

  That didn't mean his life got easier; it got different and secure in a way that he was no longer alone. The large man who had chocolate had ended up carrying Mutt over through a solid connection to a different ship.

  "How long have you had the name of Mutt?"

  The boy looked up at the big man as a medic was checking him, and he was eating a full clean sandwich. "When the hated brought me on their ship."

  "You call them the hated? Did you hear them call each other names?"

  He looked up at the big man and nodded. "I know many of their names. I remembered them, so I can kill them when I grow up."

  The medic stopped, and both men looked down, but it was okay; this was a deep feeling for one who had seen his family murdered.

  When they had moved over to another room and got clean for the first time since the attack, he smiled at the big man. The big man nodded. "You know, I don't think you look like a Mutt. Can you remember your name before the raiders attacked your family?"

  Shaking his head, the boy remembered a lot of things, but it was about the raiders and what he needed for when he got big.

  "Okay, don't worry. You are much better looking when you are all clean, not like a Mutt. You look like a Shepard guard, so I am going to call you Shep. Now let's get you some clean clothes."

  Shep grew in leaps and bounds, very tall and broad of shoulder that surprised his new family. As he remembered, it took him into his teens to stop ducking when someone came up behind him in surprise. It seemed he always was expecting someone to hit or kick him. It was in his military training that those quick reflexes paid off. In a front-to-front fight, no one could hit his face.

  There were bets among the older Guardians about who would finally take down the new young trainee that was so fast for such a big awkward youth. Eventually, the awkwardness disappeared as a man appeared, and Shep earned a new name.

  It was training and school for Shep for many years before he found out what the group of people who called themselves the Dark Guardians were all about.

  Having it explained in simple words, one night, when he was asked to take an oath, they were special champions. Except they didn't see themselves as champions so much as janitors who cleaned up the leftover missed spots.

  As the story was told to him and others in a closed hidden training center at what was the end of their physical indoctrination, that they were ready for the next step, they were built to fill a gap. There was the Organization of Worlds and their military division that went in with weapons and the might and support of Governments. But a lot of time, the OOW shot first and asked questions afterward. They weren't known for taking prisoners and no one minded. They had the strength to go in and wipe out an entire criminal colony or blow out to debris, a raider's ship.

  So, the OOW was called for big jobs, and they often had their ships and military sites on prominent locations where there was a lot of traffic and humans.

  Then, an amazing individual would appear when needed to do unbelievable deeds for a single site, problem, or individual. They were a myth called shapeshifters and came from an unknown planet whispered as Veld. The Veldans were said to be a particularly intelligent and old human development that had a lost or hard-to-find position in the settled present universe.

  From the Veldan's have come some significant improvements to ships and communications and this strange, rare individual who would help in an occasional appearance.

  Between these two forces, one who could eliminate a whole conclave of evil and one special source that helped a simple person or a small problem. That left a large amount of difficulties for the rest of the many worlds and satellites or traveling ships to deal with criminals and wrongs.

  Someone who had a lot of funds and many friends and had been injured deeply by a large group of people without morals felt there needed to be another answer. He was not surprised to find others that had the same problem; what surprised him was the great number of people that wanted to join and put in funds to contribute to his plan. A third group to help behind the scenes with evil, corruption, and those who stepped on others without thought. A third group that could work behind the scenes to either change one person who was doing a great deal of evil from his high elected position. Or a strong third behind-the-scenes group—that could go in and change the direction of a completely immoral organization by taking out only the leaders. They built the Dark Guardians.

  So Shep and the few others in his group took a special oath and learned that they had untold funds and equipment to do what was right. And that was the oath, do what was right.

  That is what the men had done when they overtook and damaged the raider's ship and took prisoners. They didn't just shoot it out of the sky until they disabled it and took the people off of it with a face-to-face battle. Then they destroyed it. They saved a small boy, tried and executed two leaders. They dropped off the rest at separate locations with only enough funds to see them through for a few days. They kept the boy for their training.

  Thinking of all of this made Bridge wonder what the hell he was doing now on
this present assignment. Bridge was just his present name, the same as the girl was only using a name for a short time. They were like drifting leaves, with nothing firm to hold them, especially their names.

  What the hell was the right thing to do now?

  A shudder through the small, converted apartment told Bridge that a very large freighter or military battleship had just docked near them. Usually, the docking area did not get any reaction from any vessel that pulled up, and the auto clamps grabbed the ship tight onto the metal landing stage.

  Even though this elevated location was high above the planet, it was still in the rich atmosphere, and the noise of a larger vessel carried through the metal. Even worse was the actual shake or tremble to the landing area caused by some very bulky vessels as they touched down on the metal. There were some that chose to stay out in orbit and just sent down shuttles.

  For these unusually sizable crafts, they would only come down if they needed repairs or unload something special. It perked Bridge's interest. While the female was in the cleansing room, he left the strange apartment in a camouflaged storage crate and locked it completely. His special code would lock the woman inside, but it was the safest place for her right now.

  He didn't have to go far to see the enormous front of the ship that had just caused the noise and movement even to the large solid tall metal dock. It had a flat nose of a freighter and a lot of clear metal on the top that let a view both inside and out.

  Across the side, he could see, was a name that had scratches and streaks. It read Drum Picker, and there was a small palm print under it. It was not the ship or the name of interest to Bridge; it was the small black and white wings painted under the ID. It was the standard signal for the Dark Guardian group.

  If one were to strip down any person thought to be in that special ops breed, they would find somewhere on the body was a tiny tattoo of those same wings, one white and the matching one black. It was small and on the upper body at the choice of the warrior. After taking the oath, it was applied instantly in one sharp poke that hurt. The pain was a reminder of their role. Prevent pain for others. Do what was right.

  So, under the pretense or with actual problems, this freighter has landed on this strange planet. Although it is of his company, he does not make contact. They will make the first connection, and someone knows that he is here. His superiors have provided him with the concealed apartment and supplies. They know how to reach him when it is necessary. His hope now is that they might take the asset off his hands and remove her from this planet and its dangers.

  ****

  When Moxxi got out of the shower and had clean underclothes, she got dressed in just the dirty outer ones. Checking for her nemeses, the main room was empty. She tried the exit door, and it was locked. So, he had left and had her as a prisoner. That caused anger to rise, but she would play his game.

  Looking around the strange but comfortable room, she began to rethink whether it was smart to be with this strange man. It might be better to put a great amount of distance between her and someone who knew about her past. After all, she only had his word to accept that he was not one of the bad guys.

  Looking at that locked door from across the room, Moxxi began to think that at this very moment, he could be out finding just the right person that wanted her. Moxxi decided she had to play this carefully, so she sat down in the big chair he liked and decided when he did return, she would pretend to be asleep.

  It wasn't a long wait before she heard the door open. Since she was already slid down in the chair, she thought he would have to enter the apartment before he would see her slumped down in the deep seat. Hearing him walking around in the apartment, she decided to wake up.

  "Hello."

  The tall man was opening a cabinet. "Hey, are you okay?"

  "Yep, I got a nice long shower. Where did you go?"

  Turning, he looked at her with his hand holding up a knife. That was disconcerting. But then he went over to another cabinet and, when opened, proved to be a cold storage closet. He began to pull out several items. "Can you eat a sandwich?"

  "Great idea. Do you have anything to drink?" Moxxi stood up as she spoke and walked over to where he was working at a flat area.

  "Look in there." He nodded towards the cold storage closet.

  Opening the door, there were many food choices, and on the top tall shelf were different containers of liquids. Some seemed clear that were the standard water pouches. The others might be anything. Choosing one that was the same type as a water pouch but was a pale pink color, she held it out to Bridge.

  "Yes, that is made from fruit. Just a bit sweet, and you should like it. It will give you some strength." He continued working on their sandwiches, cutting bread with the knife he had retrieved from the previous drawer.

  Drinking the sweet fruit juice, Moxxi soon had a nice sandwich with protein and fat along with the seeds with the bread. It was perfect for giving her strength for her next move.

  "Sir, I have a small problem."

  Wiping his hands as he finished his sandwich that was twice as large as hers, he looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

  "I had some extra clean underclothes, but my outer clothes are dirty, and I need to buy some new ones. I have funds under several names. Can you suggest which one I use when I go out to get what I need?" Moxxi remembered the first rule of getting what you needed. Always ask a question that would lead to the results you needed. So, she didn't ask if she could go out. She didn't ask if he would take her shopping. She asked a question that would lead him somewhere else for what she desired in her final results. Now she waited patiently.

  Unfortunately, she was working with a trained warrior/spy. "It is not safe for you to go out shopping. We will have to wait for later."

  Okay, that didn't work, so there had to be another approach. Perhaps she needed to get sick, and he would take her out to get help from a medic. Now that took some thinking and planning.

  Thinking about what might work, she didn't want to cut herself and lose a lot of blood because she needed her strength. In this day and age, the body was adverse to most viruses, so a fever by itself wouldn't give the big man anything to worry about. It had to be something dangerous to her body.

  What did she still have in her body that many humans had removed at an early age? She smiled and thought about her planet that was isolated. She still had an appendix. Now she thought back to her childhood and what they were all warned about the symptoms of the inflammation of that small organ.

  Running through all the signs her mom and others and recounted about different illnesses, the sickness from the appendix that could go wrong wasn't long. That organ was a problem, and when it went bad, it had to be removed quickly. Good, that would do for her escape.

  Feeling she didn't have to suffer from all of the problems, Moxxi just needed enough to fool Bridge. That meant she had to do something that would make her feel terrible. But a touch of suffering was a small price to pay for freedom. Moxxi had paid some high prices in the past, including losing a friend. That thought could bring water to her eyes. Now she needed water to her eyes in a different manner.

  Chapter Eleven

  Maybe Moxxi had overdone her work to have the symptoms of appendicitis. She was sitting on the toilet without results, and her stomach was swollen. Her body felt hot all over without any sweat breaking out to relieve the pressure. Moxxi had thrown up, and all that she had left was evil-tasting bile.

  It had taken her a day or two for her plan to come together. Then she had to quietly take the meat from her sandwich and keep it hidden until it was completely spoiled. Eating it made her sick just trying to get it down, but she needed it to get into her lower tract and bowels.

  Next, she had to wait for the third day, and a fever set in that she told Bridge that she still had an appendix. With that information, he began to pace.

  At last, he left and returned. "We need to take you to a medic. You will need to have that appendix removed."


  "If you say so," Moxxi spoke in a whisper.

  It took them twenty minutes for Bridge to help her get to the back door of a medic's location. Evidently, it was someone that he knew, as they were let in without any conversation, and Moxxi was on a hard bed in a white room immediately. It had a curtain on one side, and she could hear the conversations in the distance.

  A young man came in, dressed in the usual blue one-piece medic protection suit, and attached a robot to her that began to check her out for her symptoms. Bridge stuck his head through the curtain but couldn't come close because of the robot.

  "I'll be outside in the waiting room. They tell me this will only take a short time." He nodded and disappeared. Moxxi knew that with the robots and medics available today, they could take out the small organ within a short time without even putting her asleep. She looked up at the ceiling made from panels. Yes, a way to escape.

  Waiting for a short time as the tube attached to her arm sent strength that she needed. She had lost a lot of vitamins and minerals with diarrhea and throwing up. There came a time when the robot was done with its program, and it shut down for a period to wait. That was her chance.

  She pulled out the needle from her arm and pushed off the white sheets covering her regular clothes. The sheets and special wraps were taped down to create a sterilized area for when they would pull away her clothes to reach the one point on her stomach to operate.

  Standing up on the table, she looked over and was surprised to see her tote on a stand next to the bed. She had it over her shoulder as they left the apartment, and Bridge had not said anything. Reaching down, she grabbed and hooked the tote over her shoulder and across her chest. Her boots were gone somewhere, but she had some shoes in the tote. Pushing up on one of the tiles in the ceiling, she could see from the reflected light that she needed to move down to the end of the bed.

  Letting the first tile fall back in place, she got to the last one at the end of the bed and, pushing it up; there were pipes above. That gave her something to grab and pull herself up and over the tiles. Trying to be quiet, she let the tile fall back in place as she balanced on the pipes. At last, she dug out a small light from her tote.