Blackjack Wayward (The Blackjack Series) (9 page)

And whatever came down those stairs, I was going to pulverize.

A pair of shapely golden legs wasn’t what I’d expected.

That’s what I saw first: a Vershani woman, shoved roughly down the stairs in my direction, and when the two heavily armored warriors saw me, they acted in unison, throwing her at me like a weapon. The woman lost her balance, stumbling the last few steps, and I rushed forward to catch her. She fell into my arms, her face inches from mine, and I saw Apogee.

I pulled her back away from me, her pearlescent eyes scanning me, and quickly realized it wasn’t her. Not by a longshot. She was taller than Madelyne Hughes, nearly as tall as I was, but she had the same basic figure, which is what had confused me: a flawless frame worthy of Greek sculpture. Her face also was a similar shape, but this woman’s jaw was longer, and her cheekbones more defined. Her features were softer than Apogee’s battle-hardened face, and her hair was black as night, longer than Madelyne would have kept it. Longer hair meant something for her enemies to grab in a fight, and Apogee was nothing if not efficient in battle. Also, this woman’s hands were soft and delicate, and her features were free from the nicks and scars that marred Madelyne’s. She knew nothing of the hard life that Apogee had led.

Yet she was as beautiful. Her eyes were two beryl pools, like incandescent bulbs, and her lips full and red. She wore but a swath of light fabric wrapped across her ample breasts, a few decorated arm rings, a beaded necklace and a small strip of the same cloth that dangled between her legs to poorly conceal her bikini area.

Despite her physical allure, it was something in her face that immediately drew me to her. It was terror, a feeling of impending doom, and I felt I was the only one that could save her. She spoke, her voice a melodic poem in Drovani’s language, a language I didn’t have access to. But her meaning was clear, her plea obvious.

“Save me,” she said in her enigmatic language. It was unmistakable. “Save me.”

Spinning her behind me, I drew one of my swords to face the onrushing wave of Vershani warriors. The lead men had used her as a distraction, and it had worked. They covered the distance to me, and by the time I was ready to fight, they were upon me. Then they died. Drovani flew out of hiding, his weapons slashing at one of them half a dozen times, killing the man before he had time to respond to the first blow. Morloki grabbed the second, throwing him across the deck, his rag-doll body crashing into one of the guns. The third and fourth Vershani warriors met a hail of lead across their bodies, fired from Brutalis’ secret vantage point among the rafters.

Morlocki didn’t wait for the rushing mob of Vershani to get their bearings, firing his flechette pistol and stitching another couple of men, who screamed and fell dead.

We retreated a few dozen steps and formed a wall between the warriors and the woman, with Morlocki to my left, Drovani to my right, and Brutalis just above us.

“Is that the V.I.P.?” I asked, noticing more and more enemy warriors come down the stairs, and Drovani nodded.

“She must not be harmed.”

“She won’t be,” I almost said but the Vershani formed a wall, one by one popping a body shield from their wrist bracers, enveloping each man in a protective sheath with a similar sheen to a bubble blown by a child. They could only come at us five across in the small area between the rear wheels of the guns, but they were four ranks deep, the second and third wielding heavy spears. The whole formation inched closer, with the front men ready to engage and pin us back with their shields while their companions skewered us. Brutalis and Morloki fired their weapons but the rounds ricocheted off their shields, rebounding off the cramped surfaces of the deck. The Vershani warriors looked through us at the woman, then back at us, noticing how few we were against their formation. Even now, more men joined them, adding to the stacked rows, adding to their confidence.

“Now what?” Brutalis said, dropping to the deck beside me and drawing a short sword.

I looked back at the woman, her blue-purple eyes locking with mine, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Now’s when I earn my pay,” I said, turning back to the enemy shield wall. “Don’t let anyone get past me.”

I charged.

I made a beeline for the man in the middle of the Vershani formation, who was weaving in and out of the support beams running through the middle of the deck. He was giving orders, and others were looking to him for leadership and comfort, facing our ugly bunch of mercenaries. The Vershani leader was as impressive as Drovani, but wearing some sort of heavy armor of gold, wielding a real shield of the same polished material, along with a wicked-looking short sword with long serrated edges on either side.

He was not nonplussed by my size nor my sudden charge, merely holding his group’s forward movement and steadying the lines. The front rank interlocked shields and braced, and those behind them reared back their spears, readying their weapons for the killing blow. But I had no intention to give them their wish. I slowed my pace, and at the last minute stopped, picking up a gun carriage and lifting it over my head, crashing through the rafters above.

“BLACKJACK!” I roared, hurling the multi-ton cannon at the shocked faces of the Vershani warriors. The gun tumbled through the Vershani like a runaway avalanche wiping a mountainside bare, flipping over itself and crashing through the deck, supports, and stairs, leaving only carnage and destruction in its wake. A few enemy avoided death or maiming, but they were stunned into inaction by the ferocity of my attack. I dared a glance behind me, at the lovely maid surrounded by my companions. Her eyes gripped me, mouth agape, so alluring. I wanted to go to her, but Brutalis pointed back at our enemies. From the hazy smoke that hung over the deck came forth a wicked looking warrior, larger than the other Vershani, wielding a two-handed mace and wearing heavy armor, lacquered white and polished to a shine.

My companions opened fire on him, but their ammunition was wasted. Gunfire of all kinds bounced off his armor plates. The helm was like a porcelain mask, twisted in a berserk spasm, detailed with black and red, and ringed with broad black feathers that covered the back of his head. His mace was an odd thing, riddled with glowing runes surrounding a central gem that pulsed with anticipation as he stepped closer and closer to me.

“Why do they keep coming, Drovani?” I shouted, seeing a few rushing across the deck on either side of me, braving Brutalis and Morlocki’s fusillade. One got close, riddled with bullet wounds but still daring to attack us. He hurled himself in the air, spear-first, at the woman.

“Honor demands that they kill the goddess,” he said.

“She’s a goddess?” I said, turning back again to face the armored warrior. Unlike the other Vershani, who were throwing their lives away in the vain attempt to kill her, this one was coming right for me.

“And what the hell is this thing?”

Drovani laughed. “It is her wrath, an automaton that is sworn to protect her. It is impervious to all our weapons.”

“Oh, great.”

“We must go,” he said, shuffling back.

“You go,” I said. “I’ll hold back the beastie.”

The thing finally reached me, rocking the massive mace to one side with both arms, intending to bring it across my body and with a powerful swipe, send me flying out of its path.

I shuffled back to avoid the swing, and dove into it the moment the mace head had passed my frame. The automaton was taller than I was, but not as sturdy as I expected. I got past its guard and wrapped my arms around its upper body, intending to lift the thing but it was far heavier than I had expected. With my poor leverage, I only managed to pull it off the ground for a brief moment before it thudded back down on the deck and swung its arms backward, knocking me down to the wooden floor.

It was also fast, stepping forward with surprising deftness and bringing the mace down on me. I had no choice but to throw my arms forward and catch the weapon’s heavy head in my hands, only inches from crushing my face and skull. The force of the blow threw me back, cracking the strong wood beneath me, and only by exerting my full strength was my head saved from a killing shot. The automaton was strong, pinning me down, stepping forward onto me, and slamming a heavy boot down onto my midsection. I groaned in pain, releasing the mace, and it reared back with all its might, to finish me. I couldn’t dodge or avoid the mace, nor roll laterally, with it pressing me down.

Instead, I punched the lower leg with all the strength I could muster, just about halfway between the knee and ankle. The armor shattered like a cracked eggshell, and my opponent collapsed under its own massive weight, its blow missing me completely as I rolled out of the way.

It was down, but not for long, and it swung back the mace at me as I scrambled to my feet, catching me across the right shoulder and knocking me back. Pain shot through my arm, and I knew the limb was useless. I had to do something, and fast, before it got back on its feet and turned me into pulped Blackjack sauce.

I looked around and noticed it had knocked me back toward the side of the ship, and around me rigging was strewn along the deck and cannon. I took a handful of rope with my good hand and rushed the thing, pausing as I neared the edge of its reach, knowing it would swing to keep me at bay. It was digging its fractured leg into the deck, tearing into the wood planks to get on its feet. I didn’t give it a chance, jumping in the air and kicking down with all my might as I landed on it. The flooring exploded beneath us and the robot ripped through the bowels of the ship. The floor fell beneath me and I dropped through the gaping maw into the darkness below.

My handhold on the ropes was tenuous, straining to hold my bulk and momentum as I crashed through a gloomy lower deck. The decks below me ripped and gave once, then again, and I dangled farther into the massive hole beneath me. Looking down, I could see through the bottom hull of the ship and beyond it, to a miles-long fall into the nothingness. The automaton had fallen through, whirling into an endless drop. It was still like a child, renounced to its fate.

The rope slipped, straining on my weight, and I feared I might soon join the Vershani robot, when a pair of hands reached down, grabbing the rope and checking my descent.

It was the “goddess” exerting herself to keep me from certain death. I rose quickly, coming to the lip of the splintered wooden deck. Brutalis and Morlocki grabbed my shoulders sending a shooting pain throughout my neck and back. My shoulder felt separated or fractured somewhere and I roared in pain as they lifted me away from the hole. Drovani and several other crewmates helped the goddess on the rope, so it wasn’t her effort alone that had saved me.

Brutalis, Morlocki, and I collapsed on the deck, heaving in exhaustion.

“You are insane,” the smaller monkey man muttered before breaking into laughter and helping me on my feet.

She walked over to me, her beauty and scent overwhelming me, and I found myself awash in doubt, unable to speak, bathed in her aura.

“You saved my life,” she said, with a voice more akin to the caress of a rose petal. “And for that I thank you.”

My chest welled, overcome with the moment. My breathing became heavy and the beating of my heart thudded in my ears like a hammer. I couldn’t help myself, almost unaware of my own actions as I took her in my arms and kissed her deeply.

She was surprised, flinching at first, but after a moment responded in kind, her lips dancing over mine, her arms clutched against my chest. From that moment on, I forgot myself, what I had been, and what I had hoped for, simply longing to hold her close forever.

It was all I ever wanted.

Chapter Five

The ship was taken and we were victorious as made evident by the wave of jubilation that swept across the interlocked vessels. But the killing persisted.

My boys rolled past me, putting the remaining Vershani warriors to quick deaths. The Vershani crew fought back to the last man, some even making brave stands. But the bloodlust that overcame us made our blades sharper, faster, and after long, bathed in crimson, while theirs clattered to the floor or lay in limp, lifeless hands.

All the while, I kissed that woman, ignoring the cries of death surrounding me, the spilling guts that made the deck slick with blood and gristle. Intoxicated by the moment, I drew her into me, her arms draping around me and her body pressing hard into mine.

“Blackjack,” I heard beside me. I separated from the woman to see Drovani threatening me with his weapons. He was serious, teeth bared and hands clenched around the hilts of his swords.

“Release her or die,” he said.

I smiled at the little guy, then looked back at the woman and saw worry and anger in her face. She stepped away, unable to face me, and Drovani angled into the gap that grew between us.

“You will not touch her again,” he said. Satisfied, Drovani stepped back, sheathed his weapons, and took off his cloak, wrapping it around the woman and leading her away.

Brutalis pounded the back of my shoulder and broke into laughter.

“The little man made you afraid,” Morlocki said, having some trouble removing his axe from the skull of one of the Vershani. Finally, he ripped the weapon out and wiped the gore and blood from the jagged blade.

Behind us, Skeetrix rushed down, his wound bound, his sword still held high as he led a score of our men.

The fight was over, though, and he bared a jagged row of teeth in what passed for a smile.

“Good work,” he said.

I nodded, watching Drovani take the V.I.P. away, hoping more than anything else that I’d see her again.

In the hours that passed, we swept the enemy ship, finding small pockets of resistance that were quashed with impunity. We also found a treasure room filled with riches that, according to Brutalis, would make each of us wealthy beyond avarice.

My clothes were destroyed and spattered with blood, so I ripped everything off save for a loincloth. I found a pair of silver bracers of a shiny material Morloki called Threnemyte, the strongest metal he knew of. They were engraved with detailed carvings of twin dragons spinning among each other as if in an endless winding battle. I slid them onto my arms, enjoying how the cold metal felt on my skin.

I left the men inventorying the contents of the vault and went above decks, noticing that most of the crew had fast gone from a bunch of killers, back to their former duties, which now included setting new sail to stabilize the falling vessels, repairing the Lady’s Nightmare, and cutting it apart from the Vershani vessel. The quartermaster, Mr. Picklett, was in charge of the taken ship, and he belted commands for his men to cut away the delicate sails of the Vershani ship, using axes to chop off masts, rope, and sail. Men shimmied up the rigging and along the masts and spars like monkeys on a tree, and just a few minutes after the battle, the two vessels were separated.

The goddess was already aboard the pirate ship, but I avoided going back over. Instead, I watched the crew hard at work. When the final rigging came free, Picklett ordered it brought alongside the damaged Vershani craft. Once beside us, men threw fresh grapples across, tying the ships properly, and setting a boarding plank for easier transfer of men. On the pirate ship several men were hard at work transforming the main mast to a crane, in order to transfer stolen cargo directly into our holds.

No one made any effort to repair the Vershani ship, despite the fact that it was much larger and apparently had greater armament. Her upper decks were razed of fallen rigging and masts, which were swept over the side. The crushing damage to the rear was ignored, and men were more concerned with taking everything of value.

Captain Nicatrix only once acknowledged me, lowering her head slightly in an almost imperceptible nod as she watched the work from the Lady’s Nightmare’s quarterdeck. The rest of the crew followed her lead, keeping busy and out of my way. They didn’t even accept my help when I tried to aid the rope crews stabilizing the nets of cargo as they swung it across with the makeshift crane. Only Zann bothered with me, and only by handing me a bottle of the same stuff Drovani had offered me prior, Artenanka. I drank the red fluid straight from the bottle and crossed back to our ship, intent on finding the woman and getting my well-deserved reward, except as I dropped on our deck, I noticed a row of white sails in the distance.

“Captain,” I said, crossing the deck and pointing at the approaching ships. I wasn’t comfortable enough to yell, “Sail Ho!” nor could I be sure that they were using the same nomenclature of the age of sail from Earth’s history.

Nicatrix came to the gunwale beside me, stretching out a spyglass. She smiled when she identified the newcomer.

“Just in time,” she said.

Noting how perplexed I was, she handed me the spyglass. After a moment to track them, I noticed it was not just one, but several Vershani ships. Two like the one we had just taken, big feathery-looking bastards, each with their own different sail configuration. They were accompanied by four smaller ships. Focusing further, I noticed another ship at the farthest edges of my vision. This final vessel was so big it had to be larger even than the massive dreadnought craft that had carried the Mist Army to battle against us. The other ships were just escorts for this monster.

“Oh, fuck,” I said.

“Not to worry, Blackjack. It is according to plan.”

I just chuckled and returned the folded-down spyglass back to her.

“Yes,” she said, turning away. “Better to laugh and stay out of Vershani politics and civil wars. If you plan to live longer, that is.”

I didn’t find her, but I did locate a case of Artenanka that was two-thirds full. I took it to the forecastle and drank as the ships came closer. They came in formation; like the destroyed Vershani ship, they were mostly sail, with thousands of sheets of canvas stretched from every angle, in particular two ventral appendages that jutted out twice the length of the ship, giving each vessel the look of a large feathery bird rather than a ship of war.

They slowed and circled, with their smaller ships forming a perimeter around us, and the massive one standing off several miles to our rear. They launched a skiff, and as it neared it was apparent the small boat was almost as large as the Lady’s Nightmare.

“You trust them?” I asked a crewmember as he walked by carrying sacks of grain. He just shrugged, eyeing the bottles of Artenanka greedily. I gave him one, stuffing it into his waistband so he didn’t have to drop his burden. He shrugged again and strolled off.

The Vershani skiff was made of the same bone-white material, pale like alabaster. It was oblong and one-decked despite its size, and ringed with an angled gunwale that gave it a sleek look. Sail strakes jutted out from the rear and a small complement of thrusters powered it toward us. Aboard were a dozen warriors, standing in formation along the middle, each of them wearing golden armor that revealed only their midsections. Each wielded a long scythe with a blade made of pure white-blue energy that rippled and glowed. Their faces were obscured under a faceplate of the same color, and feather-like decorations, shrouded in the same swaying energy, shot out the backs of their helms.

Along with this honor guard were other Vershani wearing robes instead of armor, though the decorations were similar: swirling patterns on the fabric of their clothes, porcelain masks sprouting feathers, and glowing staves of the same material as their ship hulls. They were led by a short figure that bore the least decoration, just bare white robes and only a silver-blue amulet hanging from his neck.

Other Vershani were aboard, but they were tasked with manning the ship and sail. A small group of females, mostly nude, huddled near the rear of the ship, cringing in fear of an elderly female that wore a decorated robe and a heavy golden necklace. Once the skiff came close, the “worker” Vershani threw ropes across the gap to the Lady’s Nightmare that our men caught and tied to the gunwale. The Vershani procession off the ship was organized, and the first one off was the plain-garbed man, who was on closer inspection appeared ancient. He was bald, with a scribble of beard on his chin, and he leaned on a small Vershani child that was tasked with helping him.

Captain Nicatrix met him as he debarked, but his facial expression was clear even to me, almost a hundred feet away on the forecastle. He detested her presence despite her pleasantries and motioned her on, interrupting her welcoming speech. The captain handled his rudeness with a grace I almost envied; the only sign she gave of her displeasure was a slight sideways cock of her head. She led the Vershani group to the captain’s cabin in the aft castle, where I suspect Drovani had taken the woman. The other robed men followed and the soldiers soon after, though only the old man entered the cabin at first, leaving behind the others to stand guard.

I finished the final bottle of Artenanka, letting the effervescent fluid drain to the last drop, and tossed the flask overboard. A half case of the stuff and I only felt a slight bit of euphoria, equivalent of two shots of the Hankey Bannister Dr. Retcon’s daughter had shared with me. I don’t know why I thought of her, save that her death had changed my life. Instead of saving the planet by forming the shield of telluric energy, her murder by Zundergrub had set off a series of events that led to me being blamed for every awful thing that happened on Hashima Island. Her death had led to my banishment back to Shard World.

I had doubted that she was even human until that moment, wondering if Retcon had built himself a lifelike robotic daughter to fill whatever void his inability to have real children had left behind. But the old man had just made a clone, combining his and his dead wife’s genetic material and thumbing his nose at the curse his powers had brought. I laughed, struggling to remember her name.

Dr. Walsh, yeah, I knew that part, but not her first name, and for some reason it just eluded me. But not her face, still and blood-spattered, as she lay on the floor, dead from Sharpshooter’s bullet. Her face was as clear to me as that of her father, Dr. Retcon overcome with grief and horror at the unfolding of Zundergrub’s terrible plan and helpless to stop it. A madness had crossed his features as he grasped the lifeless body of his child, a madness I had felt only moments prior when Cool Hand had died in my arms.

In the trial against me, they had identified him as Walter Allan Victors, of Montclair, New Jersey, but he would forever be Cool to me. His life had seeped out in my hands, and the vengeance I had felt and wrought upon Zundergrub had been wasted. The old man lived, I knew it, and he was back on Earth, able to attack Apogee with impunity while I languished here in a world 30 million light-years away. For all I knew, she was already dead.

Someone walked up the stairs to the fore castle, shaking me from my thoughts, and I saw the contingent of Vershani leaving the Lady’s Nightmare, leading the goddess to the skiff. She wore a long, plain robe that concealed her unearthly form, and she walked like a robot with her head slightly bowed, ignoring her surroundings.

Beside me was Drovani, breathless from the run, smiling at the success of his mission.

“Blackjack,” he said, reaching me.

“You threatened me,” I said, clenching my fists. “You ready to back that up?”

He paused, taken aback. For a moment, seeing the surprise and shock in his face, I paused, realizing I was being a belligerent bully, a thoughtless bastard. But then again, what else did I have to loose?

I grabbed him and lifted him off the ground.

“You want to back that up?”

“No,” he said, struggling as a leather strap across his chest was cutting off his breathing.

“Aw, come on. You were all brave back then. What happened, missy give you orders to not hurt little old me?”

He choked and struggled, but in my arms he was like a small rag doll, helpless.

“Forgive me,” he said.

“I’d like to,” I said. “But you hurt my feelings.”

“I know, but–”

I laughed, “I took your ship, buddy. I did it, you understand?”

Drovani nodded, fighting for air.

“And if I want to kiss the girl, well, then, that’s my fucking reward, you understand?”

I put him down, and he took a moment to compose himself, coughing a few times.

“You are a bastard,” he said, but in a tone that wasn’t threatening so I just laughed out loud.

“I am sorry, Blackjack,” Drovani said. “But she is a goddess in my world. She is not to be touched.”

“Like I knew that.”

He shrugged, “I feared you might take her then and there.”

“I kind of wanted to.”

Drovani laughed, “I could tell. She is young and inexperienced, my friend, so she didn’t know what to make of you. But she would like you to join her.”

I looked over and saw the skiff take off, headed toward the massive Vershani ship.

“So you guys in some civil war or something?”

Drovani sniffed the air, coming closer to me.