Zero Recall (13 page)

Whatever it was
threw him again, this time slamming him into a pool table.  Joe felt the air go
out of him and he gasped.  Aside from flashes of red, he still hadn’t gotten a
look at his attacker.  It was as if he was being attacked by thin air.

Groaning, Joe
picked himself off the pool table and glanced around the room.  Half the tables
were shattered, the stools knocked over and tangled.  There was a hole in the
wall where Joe’s head had gone through it.

Joe slowly
twisted around, eying the bar.  Except for the bartender, all the Humans who
had been patronizing the place had fled.  Not a good sign.  It meant they’d
seen something Joe hadn’t.

Joe’s eye caught
on the Huouyt.  Be’shaar was leaning casually in the doorframe, watching with
an amused expression.  Joe felt a brief flash of surprise that he had guessed
his password before the force slammed into him again, rolling him across the
floor like a wayward pencil.

Directly above
him, the disembodied voice bellowed, “But, since dragging you by your weakling
neck might kill you, I decided it would be easier just to pummel you until you
can’t move.”  One heavy hand grabbed Joe by the leg, but by this time, Joe was
too dazed to think about defending himself.

“But, since you’ve got the
annoying habit of disappearing even while puking drunk, I’m thinking I should
probably break your legs, just to be safe.”

Behind the
counter, the bartender’s eyes were wide and he was backing away from whatever
held Joe.  Thinking of his leg, Joe frantically jammed his elbow into his
attacker.

His elbow hit
solid steel.

A massive,
serpentine flash of scarlet, then a sharp, diamond-shaped head was filling his
vision.  Small, bright golden eyes fixed on him with a dangerous intensity
between deep, diamond-shape audial-ridges that took up most of the creature’s
head.  A predator’s fangs showed behind scaly red lips.  A patch of white dappled
its brow above its metallic eyes.  “
Should
I start breaking legs, Human?” 
The grip on his leg tightened, and Joe had the sick feeling it would only take
a slight twist to snap his femur in half.

“Burn me,” Joe
said when he realized what was holding him.

A Jreet.  A burning
Jreet
.  Even with two planets, they were rarer than Humans.  They had no
massive cities, no sprawling megaplexes.  Even as one of the founding races of
Congress, they were as close to primitives as a sentient race could come—he’d
only ever seen them once before, during his time in bootcamp, the bodyguards of
a Congressional Representative who decided to rebel.  That he was seeing one
here, on
Earth
, left him thinking the bartender had slipped him a little
something extra in his drink.

“Only break one
of his legs,” the Huouyt said calmly from the door.  “The last thing I want is
to have to carry him around the shuttle while he heals.”

“Stay out of
this.”  The Jreet flung Joe across the room by the ankle.  Joe collided with a
tangled pile of chairs, but by that time, he was barely conscious.  The Jreet
picked him up again, this time by the front of his T-shirt, and lifted him four
feet off the ground, until his head was crammed up against the ceiling—and he
was looking directly into the Jreet’s angry golden eyes.

Ninths from his
face, the crocodilian mouth said in heavily-accented Congie, “I won’t break your
legs.  But if you make me miss my flight, Prime, I will hunt you down and
you’ll wish I had.”  Then the Jreet dropped him to the floor, grabbed him by a
foot, and Joe was being dragged again.

Joe saw the
Huouyt sigh and follow them into the street before he passed out.

#

“See?”  Daviin dumped his
battered cargo inside the shuttle.  “Some things are better done with force.”

The Huouyt did
not seem to share his satisfaction.  He was giving the Human an appraising
look.  “He’s going to be commanding our groundteam in a couple weeks, Jreet.  I
don’t think pounding him unconscious did much to ingratiate him with you.”

“Bah.”  Daviin
disgustedly began forming coils, the coolness of the shuttle interior
irritating him.  “The fool needed it.”

“I agree, but he
might not see it that way.”

Daviin laughed. 
“What do I care what a soft-skinned little weakling thinks?”

“He’s your
Prime.”  The Huouyt was in his natural form once more, his birth defect plain
for all to see.  Knowing what Daviin knew about Huouyt society, this Huouyt’s
purple eye was a badge of shame beside his normal, electric-blue one.  He
wondered again why the Huouyt did not take another Huouyt’s pattern to spare
himself the disgrace.

“He’s not my
Prime until we get to Neskfaat,” Daviin said.  “And even then, I won’t give a
melaa’s
snort what he thinks of me.”  Then, looking down at the battered pile of flesh
and bone, he said, “My goal is the Vahlin.  The only reason I’m here is that
the Ground Force wouldn’t clear me for a shuttle ride from Jeelsiht unless I
was on a groundteam, and
this
is the fool they chose as my Prime.  They
can all be damned.  These pathetic weaklings and their politics mean nothing to
me.”

The Huouyt’s
odd-colored eyes flickered to the broken Human.  “Obviously.  You should administer
nanos, in case he’s bleeding internally.”

Daviin
flinched.  “They do that?”

“Not everyone
can be a Jreet.”

Daviin stared
down at the Human.  “How could they put
him
in charge?  A
Takki
could best him.”

“They give Humans
biosuits, just like Ooreiki.”

Daviin’s face
twisted with disdain.  “Dose the weakling.”

“I give the
orders here, Jreet,” the Huouyt said calmly.  “I told you to do it.”

Daviin
straightened, until he towered over Be’shaar.  “Oh?  Do you see a rank upon my
chest?”

“You’re a
Battlemaster,” the Huouyt said, looking completely unperturbed.

Daviin laughed. 
“I’m a Sentinel-trained Jreet warrior and heir to Vora.  Your ranks mean a
Dhasha’s fart to me.”

He and the
Huouyt locked gazes.  Daviin waited.  Tics marched by, neither of them moving. 
On the floor, the Human’s lungs began to rattle.

Sighing, the
Huouyt broke the deadlock and went to the shuttle’s emergency supplies set into
the wall.  He found a nano kit and, as Daviin watched, he administered a dose
to the unconscious Human.

He was putting
it away just in time for a young Ooreiki to step through the door of the
shuttle.  The creature’s eyes widened as he glanced between Daviin and the
Huouyt.  Tentatively, he said, “Is one of you our Prime Commander?”

“There’s your
Prime.”  Daviin waved a disgusted hand at the crumpled Human on the floor.

The Ooreiki
froze, obviously thinking the war had already started.  “What happened to him?”
the Ooreiki whispered.

“He tripped.”

The Ooreiki’s
eyes scanned the bruises and bloody scratches and he opened his mouth to say
something stupid.  The Huouyt interrupted him.  “Are you Galek, then?”

The young
Ooreiki straightened and gave a sloppy Congressional salute.  Nothing like the
sharp, swift motion that every Sentinel knew by heart.  Daviin’s disdain for the
other creatures in the room grew by the tic.

“I am Be’shaar. 
The scaly red beast filling up the room is Daviin.  And, as the Jreet said,
that is Joe Dobbs, your new Prime.”

“A Human?”  The
Ooreiki’s liquid brown eyes were fixed on their ground leader with confusion. 
“What will we do with a Human?”

“Obey him,”
Be’shaar said.

Daviin snorted
and gave the Human a derisive look.  “I’ll dance on my own tek before I obey
that fool.”

“You’ll obey
him, or I’ll send you back to Vora so you can return to your petty bickerings
with Welu.”

Daviin lashed
out, dragging the Huouyt off his three boneless legs, until his huge bi-colored
eyes were only ninths from his own.  Into the Huouyt’s face, he said, “And as
soon as Congress releases me from my oath, I’ll gladly spit you, Huouyt.  If
there’s one thing I hate more than a Welu, it’s a Huouyt.”  He pushed his tek
from its sheath, until the poisoned tip was visible only ninths from the
writhing white cilia on Be’shaar’s chest.

Be’shaar did not
even spare a glance at the tek.  The Huouyt’s eyes were cold, utterly calm. 
“Release me.”

Daviin continued
to hold the Huouyt off the ground.  He lowered his face until their eyes almost
touched.  “If anything gets between me and my revenge on Neskfaat, I will hold
you personally responsible.”

“Now, Jreet.”

Daviin dropped
the Huouyt.  Twisting to face the Ooreiki, he said, “You say your name is
Galek?”

The Ooreiki watched
Be’shaar as the Huouyt slowly got back to his feet, then looked again at the
crumpled Human.  Returning his eyes to Daviin, he whispered, “This isn’t going
to work, is it?”

“There’s a
reason why Congress has never made a multi-species team before this,” Be’shaar
said tightly, never taking his eyes from Daviin.  “Some don’t play well with
others.”

 “I can see
that,” Galek replied.  His eyes dropped to the Human.  “Are they giving us a
full six?”  He did not sound like he was looking forward to it.

“Yes,” Daviin
said, coiling into a corner as the shuttle launched.  He locked eyes with the
Huouyt.  “You’re young, aren’t you?”

It took the
Ooreiki a moment to realize he was talking to him.  “I, uh.  Yes.”  He shied
away from Daviin’s coils, getting as far from him and the Huouyt as possible. 
It didn’t do much good.  In such a confined space, Daviin had to wrap his body
over itself several times in order to fit.

“What’d you do
to get this assignment?” Daviin asked, gaze still locked with the Huouyt.

Out of the
corner of Daviin’s eyes, he saw the Ooreiki’s sudah begin to flutter.  “I
guess, I uh…”

“Your
Battlemaster asked you a question, boy,” the Huouyt snapped.  He, in turn,
never took his eyes off of Daviin.

“Watch your own
spears, Huouyt,” Daviin snapped.  “I’m a Sentinel, not a Battlemaster, and it’s
the boy’s choice whether to answer.  Jreet do not stoop to using our rank to
force furgs to do our will.” 

“You mean those
Jreet who are smaller than you obey or you kill them.”  The Huouyt had righted
itself and was casually smoothing the cilia that Daviin had displaced with his
grip.  “How honorable.”

“I might kill
them anyway,” Daviin said, still holding the Huouyt’s stare.  “If they continue
to prattle.”  Disgusting.  That he had been paired with a Huouyt
was...disgusting.

“Jreet, if you
are trying to suggest you are my superior in any way,” the Huouyt said softly,
“you are sadly mistaken.”

Daviin cocked
his head.  “Your name is not Be’shaar.  I recognize the name from my training. 
Your voice does not match.”  Then he laughed.  “Too cowardly to give your true
name, assassin?”

Jer’ait scowled
at him.  “You asked the boy a question.  You wanted to know what a raw Ooreiki
recruit has in comparison to a decorated Human hero, a top Va’gan assassin, and
a Voran worm.”

Daviin slid out
of his first coil, intending to introduce his fist to the Huouyt’s innards.

The young
Ooreiki cleared his throat tentatively.  In the silence that followed, with
Daviin and Jer’ait dueling gazes in ka-par, he said, “I guess I got what they
call tunnel instinct.”

Ka-par instantly
broken, Daviin and Jer’ait both whipped their heads around to stare at the
Ooreiki, who immediately found the corrugated steel floor at his feet intensely
fascinating.

“Interesting,”
Jer’ait said finally.  He cast Daviin one last look, then left the room.

“Coward,” Daviin
snorted.  He peered at the Ooreiki again.  Tunnel instinct.  That was as rare
amongst Ooreiki as a black Jreet was amongst Vorans.  Trying not to look as
slack-jawed as he felt, Daviin grunted and returned to his coil.

“Sir?” the
Ooreiki ventured.

“I am not a
sir,” Daviin snapped.  “I volunteered.  The rank they gave me was arbitrary.”

“But aren’t
you…royalty?”

Scoffing, Daviin
said, “On my planet, the only ones who call others ‘sir’ are slaves and
cowards.”

He might have
slapped the Ooreiki, the way Galek flinched.  “Sorry si—uh, what do you want me
to call you?”

“Daviin.”

“Not lord
Daviin?  Prince Daviin?”

“No.  Daviin.”

“So who is the Human?”
the Ooreiki ventured.  “I know why Overseer Phoenix picked Be’shaar and you…but
who is he?”

Daviin made a
dismissive grunt.  “Some call him Zero.”

“
That
Zero?”  The pupils of the Ooreiki’s huge, sticky eyes dilated until they were
petrified ovals of black.  “Prime Commander Zero?  From Eeloir?”

“Or so I’m
told,” Daviin said, a little confused by the creature’s reaction.  He returned
his attention to the pile of Human.  “I was not very impressed, myself.”

The Ooreiki’s
sudah were fluttering as if he were about to fly away.  “Who else is on our
team?” he whispered.

“I suppose we’ll
discover that on Neskfaat.”

#

Joe woke with a
headache that screamed for aspirin.  He sat up and groaned, holding his
temples.

Immediately, a massive
red blur moved in front of him.  “It wakes.”

“Are you the
bastard that attacked me?” Joe growled through a thick tongue and swollen lip. 

His assailant
snorted.  “If you consider that an attack, you’re sadly out of your league.”

Joe frowned,
trying to focus his eyes.  There was something about the voice he didn’t like. 
Something that sounded familiar.

A ruby-scaled,
diamond-shaped head solidified in front of him, hard golden eyes peering down
at him mercilessly.  “Is that better?”

“Fuck me,” Joe blurted.