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Authors: Frank J. Fleming

BOOK: Superego
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I used to like nature shows as a kid and decided to find one to watch. The usual TV fare was so pointless. I never cared about the news, and the dramas and comedies didn't engage me. But I very much enjoy the predator/prey dynamic in nature shows, and there are so many species in the universe. So much to learn. Also, it's nice to watch other creatures that can kill without any reflection. They know their purpose: to survive and reproduce. Mine is to kill for the Nystrom syndicate. You ask the average sentient what his purpose is, and he won't know. Their purposes are really no different from that of any other animal—to survive—but that hardly takes any thought or effort for most.

“How is your relaxing going?” Dip asked me while I was sitting on the couch watching my third nature show.

“Could be worse, could be better.” I was only a few hours into my vacation and didn't see how I could keep this up for very long—a couple days at most. I'd probably force contact with the Nystrom executives if this went on too long, though I didn't think they'd appreciate it. I understood that the purpose of relaxing was to find pointless activities to distract me from more important things, but it was something I had little practice doing. “I heard mention of local fauna. Could you find some nature trails for me? Something far out of the way, preferably.”

“Certainly. Anything else?”

“Have you heard news about Zaldia?”

“Yes. It's a top story in many systems, thanks in large part to the pictures and video coming from there depicting horrific murders. And there is great certainty the Nystrom syndicate is to blame. I didn't bring it up because you've made it clear that you don't care about the news unless it directly affects a job. Would you like to view the images from Zaldia?”

I was rather incurious of things involving people unrelated to a job I'm doing. If Zaldia was going to affect me, the syndicate would make that clear. “No, I don't see any reason to care about those people. What I still need, though, is a place to do my training.”

I have a daily regimen. I train physically and am in very good shape for a human male in his thirties. I don't care much for hand-to-hand combat—especially when dealing with an unfamiliar species. But it is sometimes quicker than a gun in close proximity. Also, I could end up in a situation where I'm unarmed, though I usually take elaborate precautions to prevent such a thing. Of course, I also train extensively with firearms, both shooting and quick-drawing from concealed holsters in different positions.

Training has a purpose and a focus, but it can only keep me occupied for so long. I did try the nature walk, and that was a nice distraction. I didn't see many large creatures, but even when it looks like little is going on, nature is nothing but a tooth-and-nail fight for survival. Plants compete for sunlight and nutrients in the soil, some choking out others. Insects forage for food while small flying creatures hunt the insects. Basic survival is so easy for most sentients that we seem separated from these crucial battles. Many think we have evolved past it, but I know it just moved to the edge of society—the place where I prefer to live.

When I came back to town, I decided to subject myself to more human interaction to see if I could do anything worthwhile with it. Another form of training. I considered going to a nightclub and picking up a random woman. I'm very good at that. Women find me handsome and mysterious, and I'm good at superficial interactions. I could be quite a prolific serial killer if killing helpless targets held any interest for me. Anyway, sex was an idea, but the problem with that was that the woman might try to stay around and continue to interact with me. That would be supremely annoying, and I had no idea how long I would be here. I like sex—though I suspect my libido is lesser than a normal male's. But it's only worth so much trouble to me. Certainly nothing of lasting use comes from it.

I eventually decided to get a meal at a restaurant and figure out if I was up for additional socializing afterward. Principally, I'd only be interacting with the waitress, but I was still being social (though I did have something on local wildlife to read). Of course, the waitress, seeing that I was alone, decided to strike up a conversation.

“So what brings you out here?”

She was young and pretty. I figured I might as well be charming. “I'm an escaped criminal. Was looking for an out-of-the-way place to lie low.”

She smiled. “Well, you picked the right planet. So what kind of crimes have you committed? Anything I should be worried about?”

“I smuggle unlicensed puppies.”

She giggled. “Sounds pretty hardcore.”

“It is pretty dangerous. Only the worst of the worst work in the puppy black market. Plus puppies have those sharp little teeth.” It's true; when one bites me, my first instinct is to kill it. Killing a puppy pretty much always makes a bad impression, though.

“I'll be wary of you then. My name is Shauna, by the way.”

“I'm Rico.”

“What would you like to drink?”

“Water will be fine for now.”

“Okay. I'll give you time to look over the menu.” She flashed me an extra smile before leaving. Perhaps sex still was an option.

I checked out the menu. Food is another area where I seem to differ from most people. It has little appeal for me. I just eat to get the nutrients I need. Some things taste better than others, but regardless I can put food in my mouth and chew. I do often need to put eating on my schedule, though, as hunger is yet another inconvenient signal from my brain that I'm used to ignoring. Still, I didn't want to look weird, so I'd have to order something that a human male would usually like.

It is so exhausting trying to fit in. Sometimes the little things that can set off flags seem nearly infinite in number.

I settled on a steak and set down my menu to look around a bit. Observing others' behavior always gave me more ideas of things to imitate. But then I saw something that's always very bad news, especially when I'm in some random part of the universe and have told no one where I've gone: I saw someone I recognized.

CHAPTER 3

The universe is very big. There are now billions and billions of humans spread out over thousands and thousands of planets. The chance of randomly bumping into someone I know is minuscule to the point of not even being worth consideration. So my even recognizing someone meant that I tensed for a fight. I made no noticeable movements, but adrenaline shot through my system, and my whole mind became dedicated to watching for threats.

Then I took the time to process exactly who it was. The immaculate suit, dark eyes, the smug, slightly crooked smile of someone who knows he is untouchable. It was Anthony Burke, one of Nystrom's top executives and possibly the syndicate's future leader. I relaxed, because if he wanted me dead, then my fate was already sealed.

“Rico!” he said warmly as he took a seat at my table. There was something else behind his mood, but with people like him there always is.

“You tracked me?”

He smiled more broadly. “We're very powerful. Do you think anything goes on in the universe without our knowledge?”

A cheeky answer, but I really was curious how he knew where I was. I doubted he would tell me, though, and it wasn't like I was trying to hide from him. I decided we might as well get to the point. “So I'm told to relax, and then you come here in person…Should I be concerned?”

He shrugged. “We have an important job for you, and I happened to be in the area. So I thought I'd deliver the assignment personally.”

Twenty years ago, Burke would have considered delivering a message so beneath him that he would have shot whoever suggested it in the head. He didn't seem to have gotten less prideful with age.

“What's really going on?”

“Want to get out of here? If I explain too much here, I'll have to ask you to kill everyone in this room just to be on the safe side. And if you do that too often, it will cheapen the act. Know what I mean?”

“Familiarity breeds contempt.”

He chuckled. “Something like that.”

The waitress came back to my table. “Is he going to be joining you?”

Her. Given the new development, I intensely didn't care about her anymore. Still, I smiled and made the effort to be polite. That's how disciplined I am. “Actually, I think I'm going to have to put off dinner here until another time.”

“I didn't mean to interrupt your meal,” Burke said, but I was pretty sure he was joking. He knew I can't easily be distracted from business.

“No, this is important. We'd better attend to it.”

“I hope you'll come back later.” She looked genuinely disappointed but added with a smile, “Be careful of those puppies.”

Punching a person in the face would be an efficient way to signal the end of a conversation, but it's almost never socially acceptable. So I returned her smile. “I will.”

We headed out of the restaurant. Burke turned to me. “Puppies?”

I could be direct with Burke. He knew what I was. “I was trying to be charming. Being charming is useful. You said you had a job for me?”

He looked at me with an annoying amount of amusement. “Yeah. Let's take a walk, Charming.”

Burke led me to a cliff overlooking an ocean a short distance from the port. He watched the sun setting over the water. “Beautiful, isn't it?”

I don't like small talk, but Burke was by far my superior in the syndicate and thus demanded a certain amount of tolerance. “It's tranquil. I like tranquil.”

He took out a cigar. “Mind if I smoke?”

“Yes.”

He laughed as he lit up. It would have taken little effort to kill him, either by pushing him off the cliff or by drawing and shooting him in the head. And with that little act, I'd have had the full force of one of the universe's largest criminal syndicates trying to hunt me down. That would have been…different.

It was just an idle thought, though. I would not shoot Anthony Burke. I respected him for what he was. Plus, he gave me steady work. It would just have been a supremely stupid thing to do.

“The others are scared of you, you know.” Burke puffed at his cigar. “They think you're a wild animal that could just snap and turn on them at any time.”

“Animals don't just snap. They have reasons. Just because people can't recognize those reasons doesn't mean they aren't there.”

“Yeah, well, people don't like being mauled by a wild animal even if it has good reasons. How has spending a day relaxing gone for you?”

“I could go maybe a day or two more, but then I'd start to worry. I think I'd get more frustrated the longer I went without knowing what to do…and then who knows?”

“I'm sure you'd adjust—you're a professional. But there's no sense in pushing it. What did you think of the last job?”

“Different, but I had fun with it.”

“Chal Naus has already contacted us to renegotiate terms, so good job.” He took another long puff of his cigar. “You don't care about that, though, do you?”

“I like to know whether I'm doing a good job.”

He paused for a moment and looked at me. “You always do a good job. Maybe we don't tell you that enough because great work is what we've come to expect from you. People can take that for granted. So you want to find out about your next job?”

“Very much so. What about it brought you all the way out here?”

“Sometimes writing ‘Important' in big letters at the top of the order doesn't quite reflect the gravity of the situation.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small card. “It's once again a
different
job, but I think it's right for you. I don't think anyone other than you could do it.”

I accepted the card. I'd have to have Dip decrypt it to know what it said. I'm good at reading people, but Burke was very good at hiding things. Still, I knew there was something else behind this visit. “Do you expect me to be able to complete this assignment?”

“It doesn't matter what I expect. This needs to be done.” Some large creature breached the surface of the water and dived back down. “You see that? I wonder what that was.”

“Probably a hardile—it's native to this planet. Can be dangerous.”

He chuckled. “I've lived a long time around dangerous things. Anyway, big things are happening. I know you don't usually care about those details, but you're at the center of this right now.”

“This have anything to do with Zaldia?”

“Oh, you heard about that.” His smile disappeared. “You're not usually one to ask questions.”

“It just seems odd how exposed the syndicate is on that. And from the sound of it, people are going to demand action.”

“Yeah…I heard about the images. I try not to watch the news myself. It's always so depressing. People don't like seeing dead kids—even if it's another species. See a bunch of dead kids, and you have real outrage. See enough of them, though, and people will become numb to it.” He laughed. “Well, I mean people besides you. Anyway, you want to know why we're there?”

“I don't really care.”

He patted me on the back. “That's the Rico I know. Anyway, your job doesn't involve Zaldia. The important things are not related to it, and that's where we need you. I should warn you, though: Because of the importance of this mission, there are going to be other people heading this operation you'll have to work with.”

That was a problem. I always worked alone. For one thing, other people tire me. Also, I often have to make split-second decisions in the middle of gunfights, and it would not help my longevity to have to run them by a committee. “That could be trouble.”

He nodded. “Yes, but once again, you are a professional. This is a tough job, and part of it is something only you can do. But there's a lot else going on, so you'll have to coordinate a bit. No way around it. You understand?”

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