Blaedergil's Host C.M. Simpson (first e reader .TXT) 📖

I gathered he was asking if there was any more to the briefing, not if I had any more questions. When we were all silent, he pushed off the wall, and headed for the door.

“You and Delight have homework,” he told Tens. “Find me the informant, and means of contact...and get me Skymander’s whereabouts.”

I was on my feet and following him, before he remembered I was there.

“Cutter, you’re with me.”

“Like I couldn’t tell that,” I sniped, but he didn’t stop.

In fact, he showed no sign of having heard me at all.

12—Tooling Up

“We need better equipment,” he said, when I caught up to him in the hall. “We didn’t have nearly enough, last time.”

“Yeah? Well, you didn’t arrive butt-naked with a hole in your chest,” I snapped.

He hadn’t had enough equipment? Man! I hadn’t had any.

“I won’t let that happen again,” he said.

I wished I could believe him, but I didn’t, so I didn’t say anything, just followed him down the corridors of his ship, until we reached the small fabrication shop set up in Engineering.

What did we need from here?

“Grappling hooks.”

I frowned, not liking the implications. Mack’s lips twitched when he saw the expression on my face, but he didn’t bother to explain.

“Come on,” he said, and we headed for Supply.

I figured he’d tell me when he was ready—and would get far too much satisfaction if I asked.

To my surprise, there was a range attached to the Supply Store—a firing range. For target practice. That was news to me. I wondered if Mack would let me on it.

He must have caught me staring at it, because he answered.

“Later, Cutter. Right now, we need weapons.”

Right. Weapons. But we were also heading into a contaminated bio-zone for a bunch of diseases that—if I had understood Tens and Delight—didn’t really have a cure. I wondered what Mack was going to do about that.

He didn’t respond, and I realized that, for the first time in a long time, I had my head to myself. It didn’t feel right.

I remembered them taking my implant out—and being there when the operation was over—but I didn’t remember a thing about being given a new one. That was something that would need to change, before the mission—and then I’d need time to get used to it.

And all that meant another operation, which meant I’d have to be unconscious, which meant...

I stopped halfway across the room, and Mack glanced back.

“What?” he asked, but I shook my head.

“Nothing.”

He stared at me for a moment longer, and then turned back to the counter.

“What weapon do you prefer?” he asked, expecting me to follow him over, and go through the selection process.

I didn’t. I stood where I was, and took a breath.

“A hand-las with variable settings, one stunner, a darter, and a sweeper.”

It wasn’t the reply he’d expected, and he glanced back at me.

“Any particular brand?” he asked, “And do you want them gift-wrapped?”

That last bit was pure sarcasm, and I rolled my eyes.

“That’s my wish list,” I told him. “You can fill it as you like. Brand doesn’t mean much to me. Odyssey trained us on a variety, and I don’t have a preference, as long as it works the way I expect it to.”

Mack raised both eyebrows, and then shrugged and turned back to his Supply Officer.

“What can you do me for, Steppy?”

The man leaned out so he could see past Mack, and I caught sight of him for the first time. He was rangy and narrow-faced, with a disreputable moustache and goatee that did nothing to hide the hard curve of his mouth. I’d seen that kind of hardness before, and wondered why Mack had a killer manning his supply store.

I let my gaze travel over him, and then took a good look into his eyes. He obliged me by meeting my gaze.

His eyes were a brown so dark it was almost black—and they were creased at the corners—but the hardness I’d seen in the angles of his face, and along the lines of his mouth was evident in his eyes, as well. I took a step back, and watched them narrow.

“What’s the matter, girl? Not scared of old Uncle Stepyan, are you?”

I shook my head. Scared didn’t quite cut it. The expression in his eyes engendered the same terror in me that the idea of returning to Ghoul’s lair had done. Mack pivoted so he could get a good look at me, and I took another step back.

“Come on, Cutter. We’re only getting equipment. Stepyan won’t hurt you.”

I looked at Mack, and then turned my gaze back to the Supply officer. He wouldn’t, huh? I shot another look in Mack’s direction, and saw him glance past me, as I heard the door cycle open. Tens’ voice in my ear, followed the weight of his arm draping across my shoulders.

“He had the same effect on me, when I first met him,” he admitted.

I startled, and tried to step out from under his arm, but he wrapped his hand around the shoulder opposite him, and tugged me toward Mack and the waiting Stepyan.

“I think she’s worked it out,” he said, and I watched as Stepyan held out his hand.

Mack passed him a cred stick, and I froze, pulling Tens to a stop beside me.

“Worked what out?” I asked, as I felt Tens readjusting his grip.

Mack held up a hand, and gave me his sternest look.

“Courage, Cutter,” he said. “You need to choose your weapons, and then we’re going to Medical so you can get a new implant fitted.”

He paused, so that all that could sink in, watching as I assimilated it, and tried to get my fear under control.

“Which gun?” he asked, when I’d taken a couple of breaths and nodded.

Gun?

Stepyan laid a half dozen out on the counter in front of him, and Tens dropped his arm from around my shoulders. I closed the space between me and the Supply Officer in a few paces, and looked at the range they were offering.

The Glazer was a good piece in