"No, Lieutenant Viets, I'm going back to the hotel for some sleep and a couple of pain pills. I'll not bother you again."

10

Solaris City , Solaris

7 August 3054

 

Light spilled into the street as a single metal door was suddenly thrown open, the noises and commotion from within a sharp contrast to the quiet and deserted street. A single man stumbled out, backing out onto the dimly lit sidewalk. Roars and curses followed him out, but the giant seemed not to hear. As he cleared the doorway, a second figure, definitely female, darted into the street, almost dancing within reach of the man. Within seconds she was halfway up the street.

The giant paused and looked after the departing figure, then back through the doorway with a broad grin.

"Good night one'and all. I'll return on the morrow, prize in hand." Roars of laughter echoed from the room.

"You'll be lucky to survive the night, let alone the match, O'Shea. Elaine is more than a match for your oafish advances." Roars of laughter followed the insult. O'Shea staggered in feigned shock.

"You wound me, but I've no time for the likes of you." O'Shea spun around, as if to leave, but instead lifted his kilt to the building. Pausing only a moment, he jumped out of the direct line of fire as several bottles and a full mug of ale flew through the doorway into the street. Jeers chased the giant as he hustled away, finally catching up with the woman who had followed him out of the bar.

"I swear, O'Shea, one of these nights you'll be plucking glass out of your bum. You've tried that trick once too often."

O'Shea laughed at the memory of his crude jest, and scratched at his full beard as he considered the possibility.

"Perhaps you're right, my dear. Tonight, however, all my parts are glass-free. Perhaps you'd care to make a personal inspection?"

"Restrain yourself, man. You've got a big match tomorrow." She thumped O'Shea's sternum with the flat of her hand to emphasize the point, but as always, O'Shea was unconcerned.

"Am I not Badicus the Bold? Bonnie Badicus? The match tomorrow will be nothing." He started forward again, but his quarry resumed her walk down the street, temporarily eluding him.

"I'm not so sure about this one. Warwick has something up his sleeve."

"That Steiner lackey? He hasn't got the brains to pour water out of a boot with the directions on the heel."

"If you truly believe that, then you've underestimated your opponent." O'Shea and his companion stopped at the sound of the new voice. O'Shea judged the speaker to be in one of the adjacent doorways, but he couldn't be sure which one. Adrenaline kicked in as he reached instinctively for his trusty Sunbeam. Maybe those last three drinks hadn't been such a good idea after all. He slipped the safety strap off the pistol and scanned the sidewalk.

"Knowledge of your foe is half the battle," came the voice.

"Well, well, Mister Expert, what do you know about it? Warwick is a fool, and if he's sent you after me before the match, he's a damn fool. Many men have tried to take on Badicus but few have lived to tell the tale. You'd better kill me quick or run back to your master and tell him you lost your nerve, because you're starting to annoy me.

Badicus was not really sure what to expect next, but he had no doubt that he could deal with it. Despite his size and considerable bulk, he was one of the fastest draws on Solaris. Of course, few men who discovered the fact lived to tell about it. Somebody, probably Warwick, had already killed Jaryl, but the obvious danger hadn't stopped Badicus from having his usual pre-fight "relaxer." If anything, the death of his friend had made him drink even more than normal.

Seconds passed and the stranger remained unseen. Badicus was about to convince himself that the entire conversation, such as it was, was merely a figment of his slightly inebriated imagination when Elaine let out a brief gasp of surprise. Simultaneously, his left hand, which had begun to draw the Sunbeam, went numb and a shower of light and pain erupted from the corner of his left eye. Had he been sober, the blow would have felled him in a heartbeat, but the eighty-proof anesthetic seemed to soften the blow. He was only driven to one knee. Stars danced across what remained of his vision as the big man fought to rise and make his hand work. He side-kicked to his left, but smashed through nothing but air.

"I am sorry, Mister O'Shea, but you have something I need." O'Shea managed to stagger up to both feet and look at his assailant. Whatever features would have been revealed were hidden under the high collar of the man's long coat and the gloom of the night. Badicus shook his head like a dog shaking off water, but his whole world seemed to spin.

"Believe me, there is nothing personal in my actions," the voice said. Then, in a blur of motion, both his hands reached out and clapped O'Shea over each ear. In the fraction of the second he remained conscious, O'Shea could not help but notice that the air trapped in his outer ear made a sound just like that of a landing DropShip. The pitch of the engines increased as the attack forced the air past his eardrums and into his middle ear. When the DropShip landed, O'Shea lay unconscious on the street.

Rose stepped clear as the big man hit the sidewalk.

O'Shea's head bounced lightly off the concrete, but Rose was sure the man was not permanently injured. He knelt down beside him and smiled when he felt a strong pulse.

"Very impressive, mystery man." Rose looked over at O'Shea's girlfriend. He'd spotted her when the pair had first left the bar, but she'd retreated into the shadows when he initially spoke out to Badicus. Rose stood and watched as Elaine stepped back into the glow of the streetlight.

"Your boyfriend will be all right. He should wake up in an hour or so, but it might take longer if he's as drunk as he seems." Rose continued to watch as Elaine emerged fully into the light. She moved with her right arm at an odd angle, which Rose at first thought was merely an unusual way of walking. A closer look at her midsection revealed that she held a slim black needle pistol. The way she clutched it against her blue dress in the shadows of the street, Rose had almost missed it. His shoulders slumped slightly.

"In a city with gun control laws, why is it so damn easy to pack a pistol in this place?"

Elaine laughed lightly, but held the gun rock-steady. "Dangerous times like these require extreme measures," she said. "As a warrior, I'm sure you understand that."

"I didn't hurt O'Shea, so you can put down the gun. I just needed him out of action for a couple of hours, that's all." Rose carefully eyed the gun that didn't move a hair.

"Oh, I'm not worried about O'Shea. In fact, you've just made my job a little easier." Rose felt his stomach drop. The adrenaline that had begun to dissipate after O'Shea's fall began creeping back into his blood.

"Your job?"

"Yes. Mister O'Shea was about to have a terrible accident. Of course, I'd have waited until the morning, but you can't have everything you want."

"So you're not Elaine, his girlfriend?" Rose hoped to keep her talking, but he didn't have much of a plan other than that. He hated needlers. Of all the weapons he had ever encountered, only needlers caused such an irrational fear. He knew he would not be any deader than if a laser or an old fashioned slug-thrower killed him, but that didn't seem to matter. He still hated the weapon, even more now that one was pointed at him.