Melinda Snodgrass - Double solitaire

“I don’t know about you. Me, I’m getting two hundred bucks a day.”

Lifting her wrist, Tach checked the sweep hand on her watch. No, it wasn’t an illusion; the pilot of the Network vessel was descending at terrifying speed. Then suddenly Turtle and Popinjay’s bickering was drowned under the crash of an enormous sonic boom.

“Holy shit,” Jay breathed, and they all followed his gaze. “Twenty billion dollars spent on Star Wars, and they can’t even detect that.”

A ship was slipping down a wash of moonlight. The shape was triangular, the regularity broken by a light-filled dome that topped the vessel – a moonstone mounted in a silver setting. After the clarion announcement of its arrival, its landing was virtually soundless, but some braking force was in operation, for whirling dust devils of white gypsum sand went coiling and twining toward the ship like beckoning fingers. Gypsum flakes chattered hysterically against Turtle’s metal sides, and Jay, Tach, and Mark covered their eyes and gave their backs to the stinging sandstorm.

The ship settled, three great landing pylons sinking with a crunch into the sand. It was the first sound directly attributable to the arrival of the alien vessel, and Tachyon noticed that even the desert night birds remained undisturbed. Their fitful cheeping still pierced the darkness. Suddenly a large spot sprang to blinding life and pinned the foursome like bugs on a needle of light.

“Are you sure Blaise is headed for Takis?” asked Jay softly.

“It seems the most likely guess,” Tach answered.

“I’d hate to be climbing aboard that thing for a guess.”

“THEN I GUESS ITS A GOOD THING YOU’RE NOT COMING,” Turtle boomed through his speakers.

Tach was eyeballing the ship, trying to estimate its interior capacity. The answers she was coming up with weren’t very encouraging. The sleek little flying pie wedge was fast, but it was small. Obviously only a scout ship. Turtle seemed to suddenly bulk much larger beside her.

A ramp extruded tonguelike from the side of the ship, the motion accompanied by a soft humming. It dropped with a soft thud onto the sand, and they heard the sound of boot heels rapping metallically in the night. The bird song cut off abruptly. At her side Tach heard Mark draw in a sharp breath and hold it.

They’re about to see an alien, she thought. Naturally they’re frightened.

The Network contact reached the base of the ramp. It was still in the shadow of the ship, so Tachyon couldn’t determine the species. It stepped forward, and moonlight lit the tips of the white blond hair, seemed to etch the tipped-up gray eyes with kohl. It smiled down at her.

Darkness crashed over Tachyon like a wave.

“Shit, what the fuck’s wrong now?” were the dulcet words Tachyon heard when she regained consciousness.

Mark was patting first her hands, then her cheek, then going back to her hands. Her head was propped in Jay’s lap. She knew because the smell of cheap aftershave was overwhelming.

“I always have this devastating effect on women,” drawled a new, yet horribly familiar voice.

The accent was light, lilting, rather like a Rumanian crossed with a Swede. Tachyon talked the same way – when she remembered to affect the accent. Only one other race would speak English with that particular cadence. Tach opened one eye, risked another glance. No, nothing had changed. It was still a Takisian. It was still her wicked cousin Zabb.

“JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP,” Turtle growled.

Zabb turned his attention to the looming bulk of the Turtle shell. It was a long three seconds as he carefully scanned the armored surface. “Don’t tell me you built another one of these ugly horrors? And I gave you such a perfect opportunity for a redesign.”

Five years before, a ship from House Ilkazam had rather belatedly returned to Earth to evaluate the results of its botched experiment. Of lesser priority was to determine the fate and the whereabouts of the heir to the House. Zabb had captained that ship, and he’d been searching for Tachyon in order to kill him. In that effort he was foiled by Tom Tudbury, but he had managed to jettison Tommy’s shell during the fracas. Tommy obviously hadn’t forgotten. He lifted a few feet off the ground, and Tach shrilled out, “Get me up! And Turtle, calm down.”

“Yes, mushroom, sit!” Zabb ordered, and then laughed.

With Mark’s supporting hand beneath her elbow, she started to struggle to her feet, only to have a pair of finely manicured hands close about her waist, swing her up, and set her lightly on her feet.

The touch of his telepathy was glass sharp, as cold as icicles. Tachyon looked up into the beautiful, laughing face of her cousin.

My, how you’ve changed, purred her tormentor.

Tachyon slammed up her primitive shields, more to shut off the sound of his mental laughter than any desire to protect her mind’s secrets. Zabb lifted her hand, dropped gracefully to one knee before her, and lifted his face expectantly. Angrily she snatched back her hand.

No!

Because I’ve been such a bad boy? Zabb asked blandly, as he climbed to his feet.

Because you dishonor me. Greet me properly.

I take reality as I find it. You can’t really expect me to salute you man to man?

You know what I am.

I know who you are. What you are is rather evident for the stars to see.

He lifted her hand again and this time spoke audibly. “Tis, what a fascinating predicament you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”

“I take it you’re acquainted,” Jay said, then added, “Here I was waiting for E.T., and I get another comic-opera Takisian. Swell, just great.”

Arching one brow, Zabb jerked his head at the fulminating human. “Who is this… person?”

“One of my protectors.” The shrillness of her voice betrayed her nerves, and Tach angrily bit at her lower lip.

“Since when?” Jay whispered, and she could have slapped him.

Zabb turned his attention to Meadows, and despite his every effort a frown sank the arrogantly upraised eyebrow.

“Peace, man.” The ace made the gesture, but his tone and the set of his shoulders made a mockery of the sentiment. “Like, it’s really good to see you again.”

“What is this? Is the whole fucking universe the size of New Jersey?” said Jay. “Does everybody know everybody?”

“Mark got a particularly edifying view of Zabb’s tail as he turned it and ran from me and my ship a few years back.”

“Don’t get too cocky, Tis.” Zabb jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “That’s my ship. It’s only by my say-so that anyone flies on her. You need me…” His eyes dropped, and he stared insolently at the bulge of her belly. “Obviously.”

Jay cut through the round of escalating pleasantries. “Could we get on with this? I have to catch a plane in El Paso at eight-forty.”

Zabb pulled out a pocket computer and began entering data. “The message said you wanted passage to Takis.”

“If you please,” said Tachyon.

“For just you?”

“And two others.” She indicated Mark and Tom with a nod of the head.

Zabb favored her with a limpid, humorous glance. “You always did inspire such loyalty… in dogs and servants.”

“Probably because I can be trusted,” Tach said.

“Why do you want to return home?” the Takisian asked.

“That is none of your affair.”

Zabb snapped shut the computer. “All right, I’ll take you.”

“What’s the price?”

“You remain silent about my activities during our reconnaissance of Earth.”

“Kib’r Benaf’saj is dead, Hali is dead, your ship lost, and you are on a Network vessel. I think the family will draw their own conclusions.”