By

Jane Carver

Chapter 1

The radiant burst of killing energy momentarily blinded Gambrel Sarjean. When his vision cleared, he counted three dead bodies.With a glance beyond the alley to see if anyone noticed the fight, he holstered his twin Megaburst blasters and walked away.

Only one man was left to kill before he fulfilled his promise to Lindan Mulis. Would she approve of his actions over the last fifteen years? Probably not. The girl had held strange beliefs about right and wrong. But he would give her death meaning. Her life for his. Not a fair-trade.

A slow scan of the street before a cautious step out of the alley. No sense in taking chances. Not now. Dry heat wiped away the sweat on his brow, but he pulled a wide scarf around his head like a hood. Gambrel ducked his head and strolled at a casual pace down the sidewalk. He wasn’t looking for trouble.

By listening to rumors and gossip and using old-fashioned blackmail, he spent years following Handid and his murderous gang across the galaxy. From one planet to another, he existed only to kill. Handid would be last. But the man stayed far out of reach though his men weren’t so lucky.

Rangel the Timid, his latest informant, reluctantly shared information. It was tell what he knew or lose a hand. Handid was scheduled to leave Ancade soon.

The world of Ancade knew its own share of trouble these days. Gambrel needed to find a ride off this hot rock. Little time remained. With its sun dying and pulling the smaller planet ever closer, a day fast approached when internal forces would tear it apart. Would the world explode on its own before the sun giant that sustained it for millenniums suck it into the burning gases?

He ducked to enter a tavern door. At almost seven feet tall, he stood out in every crowd. Maybe he fell short of stature on Ambiax where the average man measured over nine feet. Here the men did well to reach six, while the women were shorter still. Which meant most came only to his shoulder. Ancade boasted comely females, but none he’d seen interested him. As he ordered a stout looking brew, he realized few had attracted him since Lindan’s death.

Not surprising, considering women meant trouble. Lindan’s death proved that. Mixing with the opposite sex wasn’t worth the effort. There were times, however, when his groin swelled from the mere sight of a woman’s creamy skin or the fragrance of her nearness. He always fought the surge of lust, replaced it with plans for revenge. 

He sat in shadows and watched who came and went. Handid wouldn’t be stupid enough to hang around after Gambrel killed the last of his men, but someone else might be looking for him. Enemies from his past haunted him, in dreams if not reality. So he remained vigilant.

“Here ye are, sire.” A fat man placed a glass of shimmering blue brew in front of Gambrel. He swallowed a deep drought of the liquid and repressed the hard shiver that sped down his spine. Damn, the shit hit his guts with the kick of a Dasaraian sand worm at full speed.

Using his hand to hide a cough, he shifted his gaze from the glass of fluid fire to the tavern man. “Rumor has it the whole place is leaving soon.” He wiped his mouth and took a smaller sip as the man beamed.

“Right, sire. We Ancadians set sail tomorrow at midmorning.” An idiotic smile spread across his round face.

“Will everyone leave?” The brew seemed easier to handle now. The smaller the sips, the less its bite.

“No, sorry to say. Those who choose to stay do so at their own peril. They gather the last of the crops, hides and materials that we cannot take aboard ship. The High Council estimates Ancade has as few as two weeks left. Anyone around in the next few days risks being pulled in by Grandmier’s gravitational force.”

“Let me get this straight.” Gambrel turned. The fact that he squinted at the blurred figure next to him didn’t bother him. “Every one of these shagmisters will board a flying ship and take off into space?” He shook his head then decided that wasn’t a good idea.

“More or less, sire.”

“But there’s no such thing as this kind of ship in space. Spaceships enclose passengers and create an atmosphere. But not open ships.” Gambrel sputtered, appalled at the idea of stepping on to an open deck surrounded with nothing to breathe. “Never work.”

“Has for centuries, sire. The Ancadians make their living, sailing the astral tides, selling and buying across the galaxy. When you came here, didn’t you come into the dock on the barge?” The man wiped a sweat ring from beneath Gambrel’s half empty glass.

“Sure I did, and it scared the piss out of me. No sides, nothing between unbreatheable space and me. Got off fast too.”

“Then you missed seeing the docks at Mither Street. The last ships are anchored there. A beautiful sight, if I say so. Ancadians pride themselves on their ships, home to our ancestors long before finding this place. The rest of the fleet is anchored above us in space.”

“Can I book passage on one of them?” Gambrel’s timing wasn’t good. He needed to leave. Not get stuck here with an uncertain departure time.

Read Full Post »