Transcript

Chapter III · Blood on My Jets

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Chapter three of Blood on My Jets by Algus Boutris. This LibriVox recording is
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in the public domain. Read by Ben Tucker, Chapter three. I remember
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lying on my back for quite a while before I wanted to open my eyes.
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I knew I wasn't on the street. The air was warm and heated,
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and I was on a bed or something like it. My leg was
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giving me hell where it had been burned, but I could feel the pressure
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of a bandage. I couldn't tell about my hand and face. They felt
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as if something had been done about them, too, but I couldn't find
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out for sure without looking or touching them, and I didn't want to do
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that yet. Why the hell it pat jumped me? I couldn't figure it.
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I opened my eyes and she was standing over me, a gun dangling
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from one hand. I threw a look at my watch and saw i'd bent
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out half an hour at most. What the hell I began? She cut
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me off with a gesture of the gun. Shut up, up, she
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said, wearily. You'll have plenty of time to start lying later, she
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grimaced with tired disgust. I shook my head, but I knew better than
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to go on talking. There was anger working its way into the hurt look
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in her eyes. I got up, ignoring the feeling in my calf,
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and noticed several other things. I'd been lying on a low couch. My
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flying boots were unzipped so that I couldn't move faster than a shuffle. The
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coveralls were loose around my waist where my harness had been. I pressed my
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left upper arm against my ribs. As far as I could tell, they
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hadn't found my insurance policy. A little single shot burner hidden between two of
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my ribs under a strip of what looked like skin. There was colodion on
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my face and tape on my knuckles. Happy, she asked, Ah,
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huh, I am Prince Charming. You're snow white, and as far as
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I can add up, somebody's fresh out o doors. What's going on around
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here? Anyway? You double crossed me, That's what happened. We made
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a deal and you sold out on it. She was working herself to boiling
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men clear through, and that explained why she looked at me the way she
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had. I shook my head again, trying to clear it. I was
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getting mad myself. Look, Pat, I can take just so much mysterious
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crap, and no more, I said, feeling the blood starting to work
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itself into my face. I got in from Venus after winding up one of
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the prettiest insurrections you ever saw. I got my belly full of the sound
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of guns and the smell of death, and all I wanted to do was
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relax and spin the dough. I made no sooner do I take my first
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drink of decent liquor in six months than you walk up to me and start
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the goddamnedest mess I've ever been in. All Right, we made a deal.
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As far as I know, I've carried out the orders you gave me.
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I got the job for Transolar, and I started it. Nobody but
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you and I know there's something funny going on, though. I suppose the
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cops are starting to suspect, seeing as I've killed five men in two days
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and helped you knock off two more. Now, let's get a few things
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straight around here. I've been shot at, slugged, and generally treated like
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a supporting star in a cloak and Dagger movie. Either I get some fast
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answers or I start slugging. I've been moving forward, as I talked,
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getting madder and madder, and closer to being ready to die for that gun
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and rip it out of her hand. She was starting to lose some of
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her determination. The gun muzzle was dipping. I reached out my hand.
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The gun was centered on me again in an instant, but the fire was
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gone out of her eyes. Hold it, ash, she said, you
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sound too mad to be lying, but you haven't convinced me yet. Just
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stay put a minute. You want to know what's going on. You should
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have a pretty fair idea by now. She went on, still keeping the
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gun on me. I'm after that power pile. You're supposed to fly out
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to Titan Harry needs it. I should have known, I suppose. Well,
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maybe she was still space struck. Thorston played rough, and he had
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some strange friends, but so far he hadn't earned a full scale visit from
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the t SN. It didn't mean as much in this case, though.
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He would have been a tough nut to crack, sitting out there in the
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asteroids with a good sized fleet behind him. Still, but that was for
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another time. I let her see by my face that the subject wasn't closed,
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and then I went on, yeah, keep talking, who jumped you
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on rocket roll last night. Why were you trying to pot me a while
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ago? Because God damn it, I don't know what to think. She
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said, those were SBI men last night. I knew they were trailing me,
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but I thought i'd gotten rid of them before I contacted you. Maybe
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I did. Maybe they picked me up again when I went back out on
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the street. Anyway, we killed them, but the SBI knows damn well
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who did it. We did enough yelling back and forth to let all of
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New York City know who it was. That had been a dumb play,
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all right. I didn't have time to curse my stupidity, though I didn't
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care one bit for the idea of me having shot an SBI man. It
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was his own fault, but it wouldn't help my record any all right,
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I said, So they were SBI men, that's tough for them. Why
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haven't we been picked up. I've been hiding out all day. But how
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did you get away with walking in transolar and broad daylight and coming out again?
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If you didn't make some kind of deal. She was gnawing on her
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lip. Damn it, Give me reasonable explanation and I'll forget the whole thing
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that sent me off. I knew why I hadn't been picked up all right.
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They were waiting for me to blow this deel open for them. Maybe
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if I did that, they'd forget I killed one of them. I'd have
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to do a really good job, though. But ah, I wasn't doing
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too much reasoning right then. I'd been mad all night. But that was
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nothing to what I felt right then. I could feel a big red ball
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of pure rage building up inside me. My fingers started to tremble, and
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my vision got hazy. I swung out my hand and slapped a muzzle of
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the gun as hard as I could, and to hell with what it did
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to my bomb hand. The gun went spinning away, taking skin off her
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fingers as it went, and crashed into a wall. I swung my hand
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back and slapped her across the face. She fell back and hit the floor.
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She lay huddled in a corner, looking up at me, her eyes
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wide and her mouth open with surprise. You'll forget the whole thing, huh.
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All I have to do is explain away some half baked idea that came
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into your head, and you'll forgive me. Is that it. I reached
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down grabbed her shoulder, pulled her to her feet and held her there.
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Her mouth was still open and she couldn't get any words out of her throat.
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You're going to forgive me for getting me into a deal that involves killing
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SBI man. You're going to forgive me for having a guy that used to
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be a buddy of mine hate my guts. I suppose you're going to forgive
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me for slapping my face. And I'm going to get your gracious pardon for
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having to fight it out for my life tonight against five guns. That's just
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fine? Is that supposed to cover getting shot and knocked around and slugged?
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I all back and slapped her again. And that's for pointing a gun at
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me twice. I live by a gun, and I expect to die by
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one someday, but not at the hands of a woman who can't fight a
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man on his own terms and has to keep him off with a gun after
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she gets herself into a mess. All right, you know how to use
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one, but so help me. You wave one of those things at me
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again and I'll ram it down your throat, Caddy cornered. I pushed her
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away, and she slammed back against the wall. One more thing, I
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said, Have you ever heard of the SBI fooling around making deals with the
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guy that killed one of their men? Not on your life. They're a
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tough crew and a smart one. If they thought I had anything to do
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with that fracas last night, I'd be on my way to a federal gas
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chamber right now. If I was lucky enough to live through the working over,
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they'd give me use your brains. She stood against the wall, staring
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at me, making sounds in her throat. One of her cheeks was starting
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to puff. I started for her again. Her eyes got even wider.
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Ash. Her voice was high and frightened. Somehow it cut through the deadly
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anger in my chest and made me stop. Ash, Please, Ash I.
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She put her hands up to her face and stood there sobbing into them.
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My nails were digging into my palms. I opened my hands and saw
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blood running over my knuckles where the tape had torn away. There was some
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of my blood on her dress where I'd grabbed her shoulder. Ash. Please,
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I'm sorry. It it's just that I didn't know what to think.
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I don't know how it got over to her, but then I had my
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arms round her, and she was digging her teeth into the cloth of my
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shoulder and sobbing. Pat, why do you have to be this way?
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Why can't you? I was saying, stroking that red brown hair. She
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wasn't a tough, self assured woman who had gun a man down without blinking.
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She was a soft, hurt, crying girl, mumbling through tears,
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her body shaking. I wasn't a guy who'd fought his way through a war
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in countless battles since either. She pulled her face away from me and looked
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up. Her eyes were wet, but she wasn't scared any more. I
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looked down at her. I started to say something, but she stopped me.
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I had it coming, Ash, she said softly. I didn't trust
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you. I should have known better, She half smiled. I haven't met
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too many people who could get worked up over not being trusted. I couldn't
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look at her. I was going to have to turn her over to the
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SBI some day, and I couldn't look at her. Ash, Remember the
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night you spanked me, Remember what you did? First? I felt her
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hand on my face, turning in. Then she was kissing me, her
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lips soft and fresh, her wet face under my glance, her long lashes
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down over closed eyes. Her arms moved on my back, and her body
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was as light as a dream in my arms, my own eyes closed.
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End of chapter three