Disclaimers:
Summary:
Warnings:
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by
Mel was convinced that his light blue rookie cop uniform made him look like a movie extra. He certainly didn't look fierce enough to cow anyone harboring criminal intent. Cornwall turned around and checked his butt in the mirror. Boy, this thing was sticking to him like a second skin. From this view, he was *certain* he'd never frighten anyone.
"Shake a leg up there, Melvin!" Kirk bellowed. "Don't start your first day by being late."
Cornwall raced down the stairs and came to a halt in front of Jake's younger brother. Sergeant Anderson inspected him in silence, then smiled, making his rows of perfectly polished, blinding white teeth stand out from his dark brown skin. Looking much more menacing in his dark blue uniform, Kirk gave Mel a hug. "You look... cute, Kid."
"How can I inspire trust and respect in this uniform?" Mel complained.
"You do inspire lust, Cupcake," Mike assured him from behind the counter.
Cornwall put his hands on his hips. "Stop, ruffian, or I won't kiss you," he declared haughtily.
"Works for me," Jake declared as he leaned over the counter to get a look at Mel. "You look adorable, Melvin. Come over and kiss us before you leave," he demanded.
"Do I get one too?" Paul asked as he came out of the kitchen with a load of dishes for the breakfast rush.
"I'll take mine from Kirk," Selena declared as she came out with the rest of the cutlery.
Kirk wiggled his eyebrows. "Can I break out the handcuffs too?"
"Sure, Big Boy," Selena promised. "If it'll make you feel safer." She grinned at him, full of confidence.
Mel wanted to feel that confident. But how could he when he was going out dressed like a plush toy, complete with tousled blonde hair stuffed under a cap?
"Hand out the kisses, and let's get going," Kirk growled.
Mel kissed Mike and Jake on the lips, and Paul and Selena received kisses on the cheek. Selena gave him a hug and a bag of trail mix. Kirk also received a bag, which he rewarded with a passionate kiss and dip. Selena blushed prettily.
"We're off," Kirk explained as he shoved Mel out the door of the restaurant. "I smelled blubbering in the air," he explained as he climbed onto his scooter. "Let's roll before they run out here for final hugs."
Kirk and Mel roared off just as Mike came outside. Mel looked back in time to see his friend blowing kisses. It was so sweet. Now if he could manage to toughen up this embarrassing Candy Boy uniform.
"Kirk, who cuts your hair? Mine is so long, it looks like I'm wearing chin- length bangs," Cornwall inquired.
"My mom cuts all of our hair. She took classes before we left Earth." Kirk pulled into the police station and parked the scooter. "She charges a hug and a story for every cut."
"A story?" Cornwall asked as he climbed off the scooter.
"She misses her soap operas something fierce," Kirk explained. Or at least he tried. They were all the way in the briefing room by the time Mel could grasp the concept of a soap opera. Since he had lived in a real life version of back- stabbing, shifting alliances, and murder, who needed a fake version?
Captain Lawson greeted the rookies and then laid out what their duties would be for the next four months of their training. Basically, they would be negotiators, translators, police officers, and the eyes and ears of the council to report any trouble the population was having. They would learn basic medical assistance, police tactics, law, and how to handle all the official vehicles.
At first Mel thought they were also going to be spies, but Lawson changed his mind quickly. What the council wanted to know was what it could do to make life better for the people.
Mel was glad to hear the council didn't differentiate between the people who had bought land and immigrated and those who had run here to save themselves. Especially since Mel was firmly in the latter group.
After the briefing, Kirk rushed them to a staging area where Mel received his other gear, a locker, and an advance on his salary. The rookie class was then divided up and disbursed in small groups to the fire department, hospital, space port, armory, and vehicle station for special training.
Because of Mel's test scores, he was moved from the vehicle group and put in the hospital group. He'd never received any medical training before, and it was his most profound weakness. If someone required more than a bandage and verbal reassurance, Mel was lost.
Cornwall spent most of the morning badly applying splints, restraints, and medical support to some very forgiving interns and med-techs.
=======||(O)||=======
Jake groaned when he saw the foreman of the railroad site waving and grinning at him. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be good. Anderson really wanted to get back to the restaurant and get in some cuddles before they had to start the lunch preparations. Mel had helped assemble the railroad lunches before getting ready to leave for the day, but with his cop training in full swing now, the young man was no longer able to help serve at lunchtime. Mike and Jake had already discussed hiring another person to fill in the gap. Mel had spoiled them terribly.
Well, whatever she wanted, Jake wasn't finding out lurking by the waterboy. "Yeah, Karen, what can I do for you?"
Karen O'Toole strolled over. She was a slender-built woman who favored cotton clothing, knee-high boots with her pants legs stuffed inside, and a wide-brimmed hat to spare her fair skin from the Orion sun. Karen's black hair was pulled back into a braid and swung slightly as she walked.
"Hey, Jake. I want you to know you're the most popular guy on the site." She grinned, and deep dimples formed in her cheeks.
"That's good to know." Jake poured some water into a cup and passed it to the much smaller woman. "What can I do for you today?" he asked.
"The owners' group is meeting on next Guardsday," she reported. Guardsday was the day after Sunday on Orion.
The planet had 400 days 3 hours in every solar year, with a leap day every ten years. Therefore the calender was split into 50 weeks of 8, 30 local hour days. One more weekday than the Earth week. So the eighth day had been named in honor of the guardians--genetically enhanced canines who had been essential in man's settlement of space.
Guardians were huge, intelligent, and capable of communicating verbally and mentally with humans. The rule of thumb was to give them a wide berth. Guardians considered their ancestors to have been the slaves of humans, and they had no intention of ever going back to that status.
There was a huge colony of guardians on Orion V well south of the city in a region known as the Highlands. Though he knew it was fanciful, Jake had an image of them living like early Native Americans in small settlements while acting as gentle stewards of the land. In reality, they were probably more like dolphins--living in family groups, hunting only to eat, and moving on as the weather and conditions dictated. Jake hadn't seen a guardian since he'd arrived on Orion V.
"Does the owners' group want to meet your subcontractors?" Jake asked. He did not want to be trotted out in front of the owners.
"No, they want to be fed. I'd like to negotiate a sit down meal for 56 people," Karen explained. "It'll be a long meeting, I'm afraid. So, we'll need meet and greet snacks, dinner, dessert, and something to drink. No alcohol, of course."
Jake thought about it. "How much do you have to spend?" he asked, practically. He fed the railroad crew on 2.5 dollars a head a day. No one had cause to complain. The Apple Blossom provided a large filling meal and two snacks in each warm pack. But the owners were probably mostly from Earth and used to a certain level of cuisine.
"Fifty-six people, say 5 dollars a head, plus a little extra for the unexpected... call it 325 dollars for the whole thing, including serving, clean up, and tip." Karen seemed confident Jake would leap at the offer.
But Anderson had to consider his small staff, hiring extra people or talking his family into helping serve, plus clean up. Then there would be a short night of sleep. He would have to close the restaurant or leave himself or Selena alone in the kitchen to handle the dinner crowd. Plus, there were other questions.
"Where are you going to have this meeting?" he asked. Places for large meetings were few and far between. His second building was currently contracted for construction, but wouldn't be completed for another six weeks according to the official schedule. Of course, a full crew could have their patio/meeting hall finished in four days, but they were only scheduling a half crew on alternate days for nonessential building projects.
Qualified building crews were stretched thin as scheduled non-essential construction, such as their second building, was pushed aside to complete the city's first housing complex, consisting of 2, 3, 4-bedroom apartments or condos, and 3 or 4-bedroom townhouses.
Permanent homes were much more important than extra restaurant space. Jake's new space would only become essential in early fall when all the late maturing apples would have to be picked and processed. Before the space served its primary function of entertainment space, it would be used to turn their last apples into chips, vinegar, juice, apple sauce, frozen apple slices, and other products. That was still many weeks away.
"I thought we'd use your restaurant. You can seat two hundred with all of your dining rooms opened," she reported knowledgeably.
"It wouldn't be very private," Jake began.
"We don't need a lot of privacy, we need a place to sit down as a group," Karen countered. "Come on, Jake, help me out. You're my only hope of pulling this off."
Jake sighed. The cash and recognition would be great, but it would be straining their resources to pull it off. "Let me discuss it with Mike, and call you back." He checked his datapad and made sure he had both Karen's home and business phone numbers. "I'll let you know in about an hour. Okay?"
Karen looked relieved that she hadn't been turned down outright. She was right about one thing, if she wanted to feed 56 people, the Apple Blossom was their only hope.
=======||(O)||=======
Ace Sellars was horrified. The Apple Blossom hadn't opened for lunch yet. Dear lord, he'd promised his young charges food. His home was currently bereft of food, and he couldn't chance going through the very busy market with four boisterous children. Especially children who got around on four feet, could easily outrun him, and who were small enough to climb into things.
As he recalled, someone had told him that the owners of the Apple Blossom actually lived on the premises. So Ace decided to look around the backside of the building for *any* signs of life. He found a young man with black, curly hair, a smooth and gorgeous face, and a body to inspire sin, harvesting herbs. Barefoot, tousled, sweaty, and needing a good and righteous fucking. The young man didn't even hear Ace approach with his four friends.
Coco, Emerald, Gauntlet, and Blast rushed over to investigate the basket, the ground, the herbs in the man's hand, his tools, and the man's person.
"My, aren't you a handsome and dangerous looking group," the young man said softly. He slowly rose to his feet, careful to make no sudden moves. "Now, where are your parents?"
"They're meeting with the military representatives," Ace answered. "I've been entrusted with their care."
The man turned around, but again his movements were slow. Ace wondered if he'd had these movements trained into him, or was he naturally this cautious. "And you are?" the younger man asked.
"Ace Sellars," Ace responded before offering his hand. "I'm a member of the council and the official guardian representative."
"Nice to finally meet you," the young man responded as he shook the older man's hand. "What can I do for you?"
At that moment, Gauntlet turned the harvesting basket over. Coco huffed at her and put all the herbs back. Coco was the largest of his group and the dark brown male had decided that he was alpha. Gauntlet, who had silver and black fur with a splash of silver fur which looked like a metal gauntlet on the female's right forearm, let Coco hold onto his illusions. Ace had been given the singular honor of naming the little darlings.
According to her parents, Gauntlet had all the earmarks of a great warrior, but Ace just thought she was curious, smart, and aggressive.
"Sorry about that... are you Jacob or Michael?" Ace thought to ask.
The younger man smiled. "I'm Mike," he responded.
"Mike, when do you start serving lunch around here? The kids are hungry, and I haven't a thing to serve them at home." Ace waved his hands at the children.
~Food, food,~ the little ones clamored. Even at this tender age, they knew how to manipulate humans. Their mental voices projected solidly into human minds, sounding like human children with a slightly wispy after-tone. This, combined with their impossibly cute furry faces, always gave them the upper hand in dealing with humans over the age of four.
"There, there," Mike soothed. "Come on in, and I'll serve you now. Anderson led the way into the restaurant, through the kitchens, and into the dining room. Ace brought up the rear, in case the little ones decided the pots and pans were ancient enemies.
"How cute," a lovely woman declared from behind a stack of fresh corn at one of the tables.
Emerald, always on the lookout for fresh admirers, toddled over and sat down beside the woman's feet. Unlike Mike, she immediately bent down and scratched Emerald behind the ear.
"Ah, Selena, that's a guardian," Mike said softly.
Selena's hand never slowed. "I know," she responded firmly. "And a very pretty one too. Look at those green eyes."
Emerald did have stunning green eyes. When Ace had first seen him, he'd told the guardian elder, Breaker of Bones, the newborn youngster had emerald-green eyes, and the name stuck. Those eyes stood out in sharp relief from the little guy's solid black fur. He was a very handsome specimen and keenly aware of it.
Mike shrugged and then moved to retrieve four baby booster chairs. Only one of them was out of the plastic wrap, so most of them had never been used. Anderson lined all four of them up on one side of the booth.
Ace had been responsible for naming all four of the youngsters with him. Though they were not litter mates, they had all been born within a week of each other. The babies had been presented at the guardian council where they would be named. Ace had been intrigued by the little darlings and as he went on and on about their appearance, he'd managed to name all of them. It might have been the reason they'd been brought into town. The guardians may have thought Ace would have been eager to see how the little ones were getting on.
"Here you go," Mike encouraged. The four guardians dashed over and climbed in the booster seats. "Selena, this is Ace Sellars and his entourage. I need you to make them something to eat."
Selena set down her corn and came over to the table. "Well, let me tell you what we have fresh."
~Corn,~ Emerald demanded.
Gauntlet sniffed. ~Fish.~
~Fish and corn,~ Emerald corrected.
~Bird,~ Coco added after his own sniff.
~Fish, bird, and corn,~ Emerald amended.
Blast did a much more dramatic sniffing. It was all for show, and Ace tried not to snicker. ~Beef.~
Emerald grinned at Selena. ~You know,~ he projected confidently. ~Cook it up.~
"I've got it covered." Selena turned to Ace. "And for you, Sir?"
"Your vegetable platter," Ace responded. He was a vegetarian. Something the Guardians found to be profoundly funny, and more evidence that humans were nuts. Sellars had canine teeth, therefore he was designed to eat meat, but choose not to.
"Do you eat dairy?" she asked.
Ace smiled. "Yes, I do." He liked that she'd bothered to ask. On some worlds, vegetarians were sent off to a darkened corner to gnaw their bark and roots out of the sight of *decent* meat-eaters.
"We have some excellent yogurt and soft cheese you might like as sauces," Selena explained. "I never serve a vegetarian dairy without asking first."
"Sounds great," Ace responded. He opened his pack and took out some block toys for the kids to play with while their food was being prepared. A bored guardian was a force to be reckoned with, and Sellars had no intention of repaying Anderson's kindness by letting the little ones run amok in the restaurant.
***
Mike returned to the herb garden to finish his chores. He wanted to speak to Sellars, but Mike needed to finish two jobs before he'd have a chance.
Though they'd been here for months, this was the first time Mike had seen the somewhat reclusive Ace Sellars. Though the older man was a member of the council, he had not personally attended any of the public meetings. Every meeting he called in his votes from the safety of his home.
Mike had always wondered what the man's story was. He obviously was not hideously deformed which had been theory number one. Sellars had an almost Greek- statue beauty with his muscular body, long auburn hair, silvery-blue eyes, and flawless bronzed complexion. In a word, the man was stunning. The grapevine said the man was in his early forties, but he looked much younger.
Ace was also not antisocial. Theory number two. Antisocial people didn't volunteer to look after children and treat them with such care.
This left theory number three, crowds made the man *very* uncomfortable.
Mike finished harvesting the herbs they'd need for lunch and dinner. He then went into the walk-in meat storage area and retrieved the lamb and chicken they'd be serving that day.
Outside, Paul House rumbled up in the wagon. The man had left with a shopping list, plus nine bushels of apples for fun trade. This had been Mike's idea, letting the person who ended up picking up the supplies have the privilege of trading the allotment of extra apples for whatever struck their fancy. Mike was curious to see what Paul had returned with.
"Hi, Paul. How was marketing?" Mike asked.
Paul grabbed the first basket and swung it out of the wagon. "The whole place was abuzz over the guardians. I saw four of them in front of the Central Building. Some military types were sticking to them like glue." House headed toward his boss. "They were gorgeous and not bothered by all of us gawking at them."
Mike passed the older man and grabbed a basket of large, fat black grapes. Paul must have traded for them. "There are some little ones in the dining room right now," Anderson reported.
Paul rushed into the kitchen and peeked over the counter. "Wow, they're so cute."
Mike had to agree with that assessment. Right now they were trying to build something out of series of inter- connecting blocks Ace kept pushing toward them. "Yes, they are."
The two men unloaded the wagon quickly. Besides the grapes, Paul had returned with everything on their list, plus some high-end olive oil, whole wheat flour, eggplant, a wedge of aged Parmesan cheese, several herbs Mike didn't recognize, and some Roma tomatoes. Mike's mouth was watering as he thought about all the great comfort foods which could be made from the extra goodies.
"You had a good trading day," Mike said admiringly.
"Yeah, I did," House agreed. The older man pushed his black hair out of his eyes. "I finished just before the military guys poured in with their cash. All they did was drive up the prices."
Mike groaned. Cash-heavy spacers were a bargain hunter's worst nightmare. "How long are they going to be in town?"
"The word is they're setting up the planet-wide... ah, pinging something," Paul supplied. "It's supposed to help them find downed ships, escape pods, and the like." House leaned closer and whispered. "Apparently, it won't work as well if they aren't able to put towers in the Highlands. Some kind of ground sensor screen."
Mike nodded. He'd heard about the problems with the ground sensors. Some ore in two of the mountain ranges gave false readings. Someone had come up with a solution, but it involved putting relay towers in a restricted area. Now he knew the area had to be the Highlands. People were not going to like bothering the guardians.
Humans had a lot of guilt when it came to the guardians. Most human children grew up on stories about guardians escaping from their human masters to live free.
In the stories, there usually was a guardian pup sobbing brokenly over the dead body of some adult guardian who'd died heroically so that the pup could live free. Humans, especially those in the military, didn't fare well in these stories. Mike thought of it as the Disney effect--making the guardians more human than the humans.
But finally seeing them in person, he'd reassessed that attitude. Hearing the little guardians speak and watching them interact, left no doubt as to their intelligence.
"Who's the man with them?" Paul inquired as he put away the last of their supplies.
"That's the mysterious Ace Sellars," Mike explained.
"He's gorgeous," Paul whispered. He chuckled as the little black guardian swatted his toys onto the floor then stared at them as if he expected them to jump back up onto the table and beg to be played with.
"I'm not getting them," Ace declared in an exasperated tone when Emerald turned to stare at him.
The little one quivered his lower lip, but to no avail. Grumping, Emerald hopped down and collected his toys. He had to pick them up one at a time, hop back up, and place it on the table.
"How are you going to serve them?" Paul asked Selena.
Holmes paused, then dropped several ears of corn into a pot of boiling water. "I thought we'd set up a second table, put their food on platters in the center, and give them each a bowl of water with a straw and plate of their own. I'm sure Mr. Sellars would rather dine by himself."
"Sounds like a plan," House responded. He washed his hands, then went into the dining room to fix up a table for the little guardians' feast. "Hi, I'm Paul House, your waiter," he announced.
Sellars looked up and smiled at him. "Nice to meet you." The two men shook hands.
The matchmaker in Mike rose its ugly head. Sure someone as handsome as Ace didn't need a fix up, and Paul had a string of admirers on the construction crews, but sometimes people needed a little push. Mike brought finger bowls, in this case paw bowls, and towels to the table where Paul was arranging plates and bowls for the children.
"Do you think they would tolerate having napkins tied around their necks?" Paul asked Ace. "I don't want to upset them."
"Sure, if you tie one around my neck first," Sellars responded.
Paul smiled. "It would be my pleasure," the waiter assured the larger man.
Mike stuck his elbow in the water of the finger bowl to make sure it was at baby temperature. Ace watched this operation and laughed. It was a hearty laugh which bubbled out without guilt or self- consciousness. The ex-military man tried to look back at Mike, who was wiping his elbow, and nearly slid out of the booth as he howled with laughter.
~Humans,~ Coco huffed after observing Ace's display.
"I didn't want it to be too hot for them," Mike explained.
"I know," Ace said before he began to snicker. "It's just that their underfur is quite dense and, consequently, their temperature tolerance is better than ours." He tried to stifle another laugh. "It's sweet that you take so much care, though."
Mike refused to be embarrassed about testing the water's temperature. He never would have put a child's hands in untested water, whether they had dense underfur or not. "Come on, little ones. Let's move over to this table, clean your paws, and get ready to eat."
Anderson had gotten some experience with children when his cousin's kids were little. But this group was ten times as wiggly and one hundred times as fast. Towels had to be inspected, the finger bowls upended, fellow guardians had to be splashed, and whimpering had to start the moment Ace sat them firmly in their booster seats.
Mike and Paul were wiping the table down after the finger bowl war had ended when Jake arrived from delivering the railroad lunches. The railroad crew had sent three people down to the restaurant to help load the meals, fill the waterboy, and take them back to the site. The day before, two ruffians had tried to hijack the meals, but Mel and Jake had beat them up. The railroad people didn't want to take the chance on their people not being fed.
To say his husband seemed surprised at finding a table of guardian pups at the restaurant would have been an understatement. The man's jaw was hanging down.
"Darling, we've opened early for Ace Sellars, and his little friends," Mike explained.
~Food, food,~ Emerald demanded.
"Nice to meet you," Jake said as he shook Ace's hand. "And who do we have here?" He gazed at the pretty guardians.
"This is Blast, Coco, Emerald, and Gauntlet," Sellars explained. "They're being naughty right now and delaying their meal."
The look of horror on the guardians' faces was almost comical. They all settled into their seats, stopped all whining, and sat perfectly still. As if summoned, Selene glided in with the first platters of food.
Trout, chicken, corn on the cob, and beef strips sat on individual platters. The guardians, decked in their napkins, served themselves. Intense negotiations were called for almost immediately as Emerald held onto three ears of corn, leaving only one for the other three pups.
"Emerald, you get one ear of corn," Ace said firmly as he extracted the extra ears from the little male. "You must share. Remember, the humans nearly destroyed themselves because they didn't learn to share properly."
Emerald gazed longingly at the other ears as they were given to Gauntlet and Coco, but he didn't protest. Perhaps being compared to a human was too much for his sense of self.
Paul served Ace's meal at his original table, then Mike and Jake sat down with their guest. "So, what brings you our way?" Jake asked after they were seated.
"I arranged a meeting with the military brass and the guardian representatives. I was surprised to see them bring their children into the city. The little guys had quite a mess started with some of the equipment and maps. I offered to take them on a tour so the adults could attend the boring old meeting." Ace speared one of the red-hued stalks on his plate. They were called red tops, a local tuber which was an excellent source of vitamins C, A, and B-1, as well as tasting really good. It had no Earth equivalent to compare to its nutty sweetness. Jake had promised to make tarts out of them during the fall.
"Delicious," Ace declared as he nibbled his way around the wide assortment of vegetables Selena had prepared for him. "Are most of these native?"
"Everything but the green tomatoes and the corn," Mike answered. "We try to use as many native plants as possible. We're always excited when they put something new on the 'good to eat' list at the Central Building."
"Yeah, that was a good idea Matthew came up with," Sellars agreed.
"Is he one of the Rosenbergs?" Jake asked.
Ace nodded. "It's hard to separate that big family out, but he's one of the dark- headed, young bucks. As opposed to the blonde or red-headed young bucks." He smiled. "I think they should wear shirts with their names on the front and family trees on the back so people can tell them apart."
Mike knew the man probably wanted to eat in peace, but how often did you have a council member sitting across from you? He decided to start out generally. "Anything coming down the pipe for the citizens?"
Ace nodded and reached for his nearly empty water glass. Paul filled the man's water glass, then took a seat at a nearby table. Selena brought over a bushel of northen white beans, and everyone but Ace began to shell them.
"Well, the new rookie cops started today," Ace began.
"We know. One of them, Melvin Cornwall, belongs to us," Mike said. "He looked so cute in his uniform."
"He looked like one of those cops you find at a resort," Jake admitted.
"That's the idea. He should look friendly and helpful while he's in training. Such a large increase in the police force can make quite a few people nervous. Especially those who have recently fled volatile situations." Ace turned his platter around and began nibbling on the mushrooms he found there.
These local cave mushrooms tasted like steak and made excellent sauces and soups. Mel had polished off three bowls of the soup the night before.
"Besides the new police, the first housing project, and the sensor net, there's going to be a new plant in area 24. Montrose-Mitchell appliances will be assembling and selling units right here. They expect to employ about 190 people full time. They have the contract to supply all the appliances for the new housing units."
Mike was glad to hear it. Montrose- Mitchell made excellent stoves and other appliances. Manufacturing them on Orion would cut the cost of the units by more than half, since shipping them in from off-world was extremely expensive.
"When will they be setting up?" Jake asked. Mike's husband leaned closer to Ace for the answer.
"They're bringing their own construction crew next week and setting up immediately," Ace reported. "I wouldn't be surprised if most of that construction crew decides to stay. They'll get a free trip to Orion out of it and more work than they know what to do with." Sellars tasted the spray of edible flowers, smiled, and finished them off.
"Where will they be housing their crew?" Paul asked. "The Rooming House is full."
Paul had taken up residence in Mel's room, while Mel spent his nights with Mike and Jake. People like Paul were the reason non-essential building projects were put on hold.
Once the railroad people began paying in advance for their rooms at the Rooming House, the pool of available rooms shrank to less than one-third of the former number. Without new housing, people, even those with permanent employment, would still be sleeping in the park. Though the weather was currently fine for sleeping outdoors, winter was coming.
"They'll sleep on the ship while they're building the factory and showroom," Ace explained. "If they contract out as a group after that, then they'll probably keep the ship here as housing until the apartments and condos are complete." Ace stopped talking in order to sample Selena's peanut-crusted, spicy potato balls. They were some of Mike's favorites. "Hmmm," he purred sexily.
"That's one of Selena's specialties," Jake said proudly.
"Are you going to serve it at the railroad owners' meeting?" Sellars inquired.
Jake make the motion of hitting himself on the head. "That's what I meant to talk to you guys about when I walked in. O'Toole wants us to do a sit down supper for their owners' meeting in the restaurant."
Mike pulled out his mental calculator. "How many?"
"Fifty-six according to her. She wants 'meet and greet' snacks and then a sit down supper with dessert and drinks," Jake listed.
"They want wine?" Selena asked. "Are they nuts?"
There was some local wine available, but most of the wine on the planet resided in private collections of wealthy people who brought it with them when they had immigrated. The Apple Blossom did not serve alcohol, but did use wine in food preparation. It was much more economical then serving it in a glass.
"No, but they'll want some of our fruit juice mixes, tea, and coffee." Jake sighed. "That's not the problem. What I want to know is do you think we can swing 50 to 60 diners in the Arbor Room, plus the regular dinner crowd?"
Though the question was thrown out to everyone, Mike knew his husband was really asking him. Jake was the creative force in the kitchen, while Mike's job was watching the bottom line. "How much are they offering for this feast?"
"Three hundred and twenty-five to cover everything," Jake responded.
"Sounds reasonable," Ace said as he paused to peer at the purplish sprouts nestled in the upper quadrant of his platter. Obviously game for quite a bit, the ex-military man took a nibble. Jake pushed the man's neglected bread basket toward him. Ace tore off a hunk of bread and quickly put it into his flaming mouth. "Hot," he hissed. "Good, but hot," he amended. He took a grateful gulp of the glass of milk Paul pushed toward him.
"You're supposed to blend it into your peas. It really enhances the flavor," Selena explained. "Hot pops are one of the hottest non-peppers we've found."
"My eyes are watering," Ace noted. He wiped his face with his napkin. "I've got a couple of friends who are always looking for some hot food. They'll love this." He blended a tiny bit of the hot pops into his peas and tasted them with his milk at the ready. He smiled. "Oh, yeah. That's good."
Mike ran the numbers through his head. Mel and Jake would be available to help serve and clean up. Since the diners would be eating what was put before them, that would keep them from having to take 56 individual orders. Pitchers of juice and iced tea at careful intervals would keep the glasses filled. Someone would still have to roll the coffee cart though. Maybe his in-laws would be up for an evening of extra cash. Especially if they contracted the desserts and some speciality bread from the bakery.
"We can do it," he said firmly. Mike noted that both Selena and Paul had also been waiting for his answer.
Jake smiled. "I'll call Karen." His husband rose from the table and went to the kitchen to make his call in private.
"This is the best meal I've had in weeks," Ace reported as he pushed his plate away.
"Do you have room for dessert?" Selena asked. "We have a deep dish apple pie that will definitely round out the corners."
Ace grinned. "Bring it on," he encouraged.
"Can they have pie?" she asked while pointing at the pups. The corn had been devoured right down to the cob. The fish was now simply skeletons. Acid could not have found any more meat to remove from those bones. The chicken had been eaten and the bones cracked open for the marrow. The steak strips hadn't even left gravy to mark their passing.
"I think they might be better off with apples," Sellars replied. "It's something they're used to."
A low growl emanated from the guardian's table. ~Pie, pie,~ the pups clamored. ~We want pie.~
Ace scowled. "You don't even know what pie is."
~Pie, pie," they demanded. They put their paws on the edge of their plates and rocked them. The plates rattled dangerously.
~More water,~ Gauntlet added.
Paul jumped to his feet and filled the little guys' bowls with water. "They know exactly what pie is, Ace. Pie is what you're going to have and you're not going to let them have. That's all they need to know about pie."
"Bring them the pie," Ace relented. "I just hope it doesn't give them a tummy ache."
Mike stepped into the kitchen where his husband was standing alone. He took a moment to appreciate how handsome, sensual, and just plain delicious the man was. He wrapped his arms around the larger man's chest and rested his head on Jake's back. "Love you," he whispered.
Jake sighed. "I'm so glad," he said sincerely.
Uh, oh. Mike could hear self-doubt dancing in the older man's voice. "What's wrong, Love?"
Jake turned in the smaller man's arms and kissed the top of Mike's head. "I was just thinking that during the year before we lost the Satin Doll, I would have thought nothing of spending 325 dollars on a suit. Now I'm feeding a corporate meeting for the same amount." He played with the nape of Mike's neck. "Do you miss Earth, Love?"
"No, I don't," he responded truthfully. "I miss some things, I won't lie to you about that. I miss some of my friends terribly. I miss my cousins. I miss going to plays and concerts. I miss the Great Net. I miss having a manicure and pedicure every Thursday. I wish my parents had lived long enough to have come with us. But I love it here, Honey." Mike could feel the tension easing from his husband's body.
"Baby, we work all the time. Almost every minute. It's only going to get busier." He kissed the top of Mike's head. "What was I thinking when I talked you into leaving Earth and starting over here?"
"You were thinking how much we can build of our own here. Don't sweat it, Jake. We did the right thing. We're young, strong, we have each other, we have our friends, and we have our family." He snuggled into the larger man's arms, offering Jake his strength. "How's that for a pep talk?"
"Very good," Jake said before kissing Mike passionately.
"Break it up, guys. About 20 marines are ready to storm the front doors," Selena announced. "Looks like we'll be eating after the lunch rush."
=======||(O)||=======
Mel left the Apple Blossom feeling guilty because he couldn't stay and help them. But his lunch hour was over, and he needed to report to the station and get his next training assignment.
He spent twenty minutes learning the computer system, then the next two hours teaching it to his fellow rookies. After that he was sent to help control the crowd at the Dead Space Sale.
Ships coming from settled worlds usually arrived at Orion with contracted shipments. But sometimes those shipments do not use all the available space on ship. Therefore the crews would stuff the dead space, formally known as non- contracted cargo space, on the ship with whatever they could buy in hopes of selling it once they reached the planet.
Sometimes it was useful stuff like fabric, thread, cooking pots, and the like. Sometimes it was mind-blowing luxuries like a shipment of gentle soaps from Coventry or cases of brandy from Camelot.
This ship was from Corazon, the most technically advanced planet humans had. There was no telling what they had to offer.
Instead of laughing at his Baby Cop outfit, people listened to him as he lined them up and punished line jumpers by putting them at the very end of the line. Since he was on duty, Mel didn't even torment himself by seeing what was being sold. He couldn't buy anything, he was *working*.
By five-thirty, an hour and half into overtime, the crowd had left. "Want to buy the rest?" one of the spacers asked.
"It's my first day on the job, I'm not heavy with money," Mel responded.
"You'll never find this stuff cheaper," the man promised. He thrust a crate forward.
Mel pushed through the contents of the crate, looking for something he might want. There were a pair of long scissors, a beautiful multi-bladed knife... three of them in fact, a piano keyboard, and a book reader with several cubes of books. "How much?"
"Ten dollars," the man said.
It was a bargain, but Mel really couldn't afford to spend that much cash on luxuries. Even if he wanted to give both Mike and Jake one of those knives. Even if he wanted to serenade them with music from the piano. "I..."
"Five dollars and you can have the crate too," the man said tiredly. Obviously, he didn't want to take the crate back into the ship. The spacers wanted to take their newly acquired local dollars and purchase local goods which would instantly become expensive imports the moment they returned to Corazon.
"Sold," Mel said as he keyed in 5 dollars on the his credit strip and inserted it into the spacer's reader. "Thanks." Shouldering his treasure, Mel checked out with the site's sergeant and walked home.
The place was quiet. Just a short hour or so before the dinner crowd would show up expecting and getting something wonderful to eat.
"I'm home," he called. Cornwall stopped and realized what he had said. Home. This was his home. He didn't get to dwell on the revelation because Mike and Jake grabbed him in a great tackle-hug.
"There you are, my sexy hot cop," Mike declared huskily. "Kirk said you were on duty at the Dead Space sale." Mike puckered up for kisses.
"Yeah, it went pretty smooth, and I got this entire crate for 5 dollars," Mel reported after sharing kisses with his lovers.
"Let's see what you got," Jake said excitedly. Nothing they brought home these days was a surprise, everything was budgeted out and expected days or weeks before they arrived. Dead Space sales were like holiday gifts--unexpected and very appreciated.
The scissors were an instant hit, as were the knives. But the keyboard and books nearly caused tears. Mel played a classic song for them Carole King's 'Natural Woman'. He got applause and kisses, an unbeatable combination.
"Your long list of talents continue to amaze me," Jake declared. "How long have you played?"
"Since I was five," Mel admitted. "All of us had to have musical lessons on at least three different instruments. My sister Jennifer could play five instruments quite well. She once had a concert at the Royal Conservatory, and..." Mel stopped as his beautiful sister's face danced in his mind. God, how he had worshiped her when he was a little boy, and how he had grown to love and respect her as he got older. He couldn't imagine how anyone could bring themselves to destroy such a fine person.
Suddenly Mike was kissing him, blunting the pain. Mel was led upstairs, undressed, showered, and placed on the bed. Mike and Jake massaged him until his body was totally relaxed. Cornwall lay softly buzzed on the mattress, fully ready for what he hoped would come.
Jake rolled him to his side and the two men were almost nose-to-nose as the heavier man began to kiss Mel softly. While they were tangled in each other's arms, Mike spooned behind Mel and eased into him.
Mel groaned softly into Jake's mouth as the three of them rocked softly. He'd needed this intimate contact so badly. As the two held him and made love to him, Mel allowed himself the supreme luxury of relaxing and feeling safe and loved.
Mike came softly, whispering Mel's name and placing gentle kisses on Cornwall's shoulders. Mike withdrew, then he and Jake turned Mel around so that the younger man was facing Mike. Mel and Mike kissed while Jake slid into Mel's already thoroughly lubed, relaxed, and plowed love tunnel. Mel couldn't understand how he'd made it through life without two cocks to fill his body every day.
Mel reached between himself and Mike and stroked his already leaking cock in sync with Jake's full and firm strokes into his body. Mike's hand joined his and together they stroked Mel toward orgasm.
Jake rubbed his cheek against Mel's neck, but did not increase his slow and steady pass as he pushed himself to orgasm. Mel clinched down, pushing himself over the edge and bringing Jake with him.
"Mel!" Jake shouted as he spurted into the younger man's pulsing ass. "Damn, Baby, it gets better every time," the big man moaned.
Mel purred as he was cuddled tightly between the two older men. "That was... inspiring."
"I thought so too," Mike agreed.
"How long before we have to get up?" Mel asked.
"Let's laze around for at least another thirty minutes," Jake suggested. "I'm feeling decadent."
It sounded like a plan to Mel.
=======||(O)||=======
Clayton Markham docked his ship and presented his credentials as a real estate scout on Corazon. They were quite legitimate. But Markham's only interest in the soil of Orion V was in putting the four people on his list six feet under it. He had a specific deadline which had to be met. He had to have his kills completed before the Martian Death Maidens took up official residence.
Martian Death Maidens were mercenaries whose roots went all the way back to the Martian War of Independence. The women gathered intelligence, performed assassinations, and sabotaged Earth Forces whenever and wherever they could. They were highly effective then, and now, some three hundred years later, they were still highly feared.
The Death Maidens had a hard time establishing communities on planets other than Mars because of their reputation, but on Orion they'd been welcomed. So welcomed, that the sisterhood had declared Orion a protected planet.
If you came to assassinate someone on Orion, you would find yourself the target of the Death Maidens. This was something Clayton did not want to happen. Therefore he had less than a week to find all of his targets and dispose of them. After that the sisterhood would officially begin their migration onto Orion.
Clayton strolled through the bustling streets, almost overwhelmed by the greenness of the place. Trees heavy with fruit hung over the pedestrian walks. Multi-colored birds squabbled with their neighbors from the branches. Flowering plants peeked out from almost everywhere. On Riverworld, such a display would be extremely costly.
Since this was a frontier, there would be no location system for the citizens. He doubted as much as twenty percent of the population even had a communications device. He would have to discretely search while making sure everyone knew he would be scouting potential investments for his unnamed clients.
He briefly considered asking the powder- blue clad tourist guides about his targets, but the two he watched break up a scuffle seemed much too sharp eyed for his purposes. He was much better off talking to the 'man off the street'.
Clayton wandered to the only restaurant on the planet and indulged in one of the best breakfasts he'd had in a long time. Markham was sure the two handsome waiters would know countless people, but the place was so crowded they barely had time to serve him, let alone be grilled. It was too bad, as both dark-haired men were extremely handsome.
Comfortably full, Clayton went around to the busy building sites where he would find the highest concentration of people. His found one of his targets, Anita Song, working at the railroad site. Markham watched in amusement as the regal beauty wired lights for the passenger station. This was quite a change from her former position as a newscaster.
Song was also the only living heir to Song family holdings still breathing. A condition Markham planned to change before the end of the day.
The group broke for lunch, but Anita shocked Clayton by cozying up with a group of inferiors and eating her meal. Markham had planned to strangle the woman when she went off to eat her meal in solitude.
Moving off, Markham went looking for his other targets with no luck. When the crew left for the day, Clayton trailed behind them, waiting for a chance to single out Anita and end her life.
First she went to the market, where everyone and their cousin seemed to be, and then to the park. There was a tent city in the park with small cooking fires in front of most of them. Again there were too many people around her to carry out his plans. He decided to wait until nightfall.
Clayton slipped into Anita Song's tent with the stealth that was essential in his profession. Anita was sleeping with a slender young man Markham had seen with her earlier. He was an inferior. He was too small to be anything else. It turned Clayton's stomach to see a Riverworld woman debasing herself with an inferior. Killing her would be a mercy. Look how far she'd fallen.
The woman worked with her hands, was forced to mix with inferiors, sleep in a tent, and was attached to a tiny little man with weak genes. It was disgusting. Clayton decided to kill the little man for no extra money.
Markham leveled his spray can at the couple. The spray would render them both unconscious and make their deaths much neater. The first of the gas had barely hissed out of the can when Song's fist connected with his nose.
Clayton took two horrific blows to his sternum before receiving a near crippling blow to his nuts. The little man, who hadn't been touched, screamed. Lights began popping on all around the tent.
Markham managed to land a solid blow to Anita's jaw before fleeing the tent. Several people threw themselves in his path, trying to bring him down. What was the matter with these people? Didn't they know this didn't concern them?
Clayton avoided the space port, instead opting to head out to the railroad site which was well away from where most people were currently located. In his nine years as an assassin, this was his first failure. Now he would have to be extra careful if he wanted to finish his assignments. Luckily for him, no one knew what he looked like.
Markham had just committed a classic blunder. He'd believed that Anita Song's behavior on Riverworld would continue on Orion. Even though he'd seen many examples of severely altered personal behavior, he'd dismissed it.
Anita Song was no longer a pampered professional woman with servants to do her dirty work. She had turned into a woman who was living by her wits and protecting her little worthless mate. If she'd had a weapon, Clayton would be dead. It was a mistake he would not repeat with Anita.
Time to take out target number two-- Melvin Cornwall, college student and pretty boy. He was probably already attached to the richest single woman he could find. It was the way young men in his financial circumstances were brought up. Unlike Anita Song, he didn't expect Melvin to have hardened up.
=======||(O)||=======
"Are you sure you recognize him?" Kirk asked as he held his datapad toward Paul.
"Definitely. He was here yesterday morning. He had the lumberjack special, coffee, and an apple danish. He left a tip. I *never* forget tips," the waiter said firmly.
Sergeant Anderson made some notes. "Did he say anything about himself?"
Paul thought. "He was here to look at real estate for off-world investment. I'm sure he said something about Corazon." He finger combed his long, brown hair out of his eyes. "Normally I would have spent some time talking to him, but we were very crowded."
"Order up," Jake called as he rang the bell.
"Like we are today," Paul finished. He rushed over, grabbed the tray and carried it over to where four starving marines awaited it. They fell on the food like ravenous beasts.
Jake closed his datapad. "Thanks, Paul. When we catch him, I'll need you to identify him. It's for our chain of evidence. Okay?"
"No problem," Paul agreed.
Kirk walked up the stairs into the apartment for privacy. "This is Anderson, I have confirmation that our assassin came in from Corazon. It's definitely our real estate guy."
So they had a professional killer from Riverworld on their planet with an unknown number of targets. Anita Song was the last of the Song family. A family who had substantial media holdings on both Riverworld and its sister world Magnus. Holdings that couldn't be touched by their enemies as long as one legitimate heir still lived.
Upon hearing that, Kirk had immediately checked into the Cornwall holdings. Yes, there was money. A substantial amount for one man, but considerably less when it had been distributed among 24 people. Now that the other 23 people of Mel's family were dead, all they had owned was now held in trust for Melvin until he reached the age of majority in eleven months. It was a lot of money, but was it enough to kill for?
Whether it was or not, Kirk had immediately alerted the family and all their friends to the potential danger. Anderson had become quite attached to the big blonde beauty. Nothing was going to happen to Melvin. Kirk wasn't having it.
"HQ to Anderson. The ship is still in port and locked down. A picture of our would-be assassin is on all terminals." The dispatcher, Sheila Owens, paused. "Don't try to take him on alone, Kirk," she warned.
"Don't worry, Owens. I know I'm not immortal." Kirk headed out of the restaurant and back onto the streets. It was time for him to do his "cop thing".
Anderson switched his scooter for a hopper at headquarters, then headed out to the Lake District. These were the largest private homes on the planet. They belonged to the first settlers of Orion. They were also mostly empty. It would be a good place for the man to hide.
When he arrived, he didn't find locked up houses, but open homes with guardians walking around the grounds. He landed at Ace Sellars's home.
"Ace, it's Kirk Anderson. Can I talk to you?" he called.
Ace strolled out of his house, a beautiful three story, red brick, Greek Revival, wearing tight denim pants and nothing else. The man was just gorgeous. It was hard to believe he was ten years older than Kirk. "Hello, Sergeant. To what do I owe the honor?"
"I thought this Riverworld assassin might come here to hide since most of the houses are empty," Anderson explained. He waved at the large knot of adult guardians who were watching them carefully. "I had no idea you had guests."
"They're waiting for our friends to arrive. Every house will be full in about two days."
Kirk made a note on his log. "Are they coming in for the railroad owners' meeting?"
Sellars smirked. "Among other things. The good news is most of them will be staying from now on. I never liked the idea of the planet's population exploding like this with the bigwigs living on other planets. I know they had their *plan*, but life has kicked them in the shorts and it's time to get off the pot." He braided his long hair as he spoke.
"I think you've done a great job holding down the fort, Ace. They have no cause to complain," Kirk assured the older man.
"They better not say a word about how I've spent their money," Ace swore.
Four of guardians, each easily 150 kilos in weight, came over. ~Is there a problem here, Ace?~ the tawny gold one asked.
"Not at all, Sunrise. Sergeant Anderson is on the lookout for a very bad man who is here to hurt some of our citizens," Ace explained. "He's an assassin."
~We should offer to help,~ the auburn one insisted.
~This is a human matter,~ the black and gray spotted one countered.
~Human matters often become guardian matters,~ Sunrise responded. She looked toward the fourth and silent one. ~Have you no words on this question, Steel Eyes? Your thoughts are always wise.~ The other three guardians waited with respect for the addressed guardian to speak.
Steel Eyes had eerie gray eyes which stood boldly out from her dark brown fur. She was easily the largest of them, but still seemed sleek somehow. Kirk was surprised to find himself gazing at her so intently.
~Organize a patrol of the grounds for all the houses. Select 15 of our number who are the most easy around humans and bring them here. Those 15 will team with the constables and patrol the city for this assassin. If he is allowed to succeed, it will bring others. Humans living in fear are dangerous to themselves and to us. Our world must not be seen as weak.~
Okay, Kirk was impressed. He bent down and pressed his forehead to Steel Eyes in respect. She brushed him softly with her paw. "Thank you for your help, Steel Eyes. My people will be very grateful." Kirk tapped his code in to call headquarters. "HQ, this is Anderson. Patch me directly to Chief Franklin. Tell him I've gotten us some help."
=======||(O)||=======
Mel wasn't going to tell anyone how worried he was that his name was on this assassin's list. He'd finally allowed himself to think of this as his home and his future. Now this. It just wasn't fair.
Cornwall grabbed some young boys with nothing to do but cause trouble, and marched them before the judiciary. They ended up planting trees along the new pedestrian walk which led to where the new main library and museum would be located. The work on those buildings had come to a halt as the crews from those two sites were moved to the apartment complex.
Melvin left the would-be juvenile delinquents to their manual labor and headed to the market. Every view screen had their target's face prominently displayed on it, along with the news that a patrol of guardians were joining the search. With his ship impounded, most of the planet knowing what he looked like, and guardians looking for him, the man really needed to turn himself in. While the cops would only stun him, the guardians would probably kill him and dump him like trash.
"Melvin, head over to the refugee center and see if you can understand what our latest arrivals are saying," Owens ordered. Melvin was the unofficial interpreter on the force. Maybe it was official and no one told him.
"On my way," he called back. Cornwall trotted over to the refugee center, amazed it was so few days ago that he had come through the sliding doors to begin his new life.
"Please, please, can't someone understand us?" the woman asked in a Magnus trader dialect.
"I understand you, my lady. How may we serve you?" Mel asked.
The profound look of relief on the woman's face put a positive spin on the day. "Yes, our ship has a fuel leak and we need to get it repaired. How can we contract for that?"
"Do you have cargo to trade?" Mel asked.
"Yes, and Riverworld cash," she said hopefully.
"I'm sorry, my lady. Riverworld money has no value here, but many other things do," Mel explained. Cornwall acted as a buffer between the distressed trader and the space port repair services. He even helped negotiate a trade of their glasswares for local dollars to pay for their repairs and to buy food.
Mel was surprised to find out it was okay for him to accept a gift for his services, since he was not allowed to charge the public for them. But Owens would not steer him wrong.
Cornwall dropped off the crates of beautiful stemware at the restaurant when he had his lunch. Mike was bouncing like a kid when he took out the wine goblets, water glasses, and champagne glasses which were part of the service for 100.
Feeling extra good after that display. Mel took a turn at the firefighting school, which left him convinced he hated fires and that his Baby Cop outfit made him look like toy.
Cornwall stopped at the bakery, got his hair cut, and told Ida Anderson about the scandal involving his great-grandmother and the House of Simmons princess. Ida hung on every word while transforming his unruly mop of hair into a sleek, more professional look which would be much easier to maintain.
"You did a great job, Ida," he said admiringly as he checked out his head in all the mirrors.
"Thank you, dear. Now, what happened with your great-grandmother and the princess?" Ida inquired.
"After the duke died, Princess Marian moved in with my great-grandmother and they stayed together for almost thirty years," Mel reported. "Sometimes, the good guys win." Cornwall started to leave, but Ida caught his arm.
"They win here too, Melvin. Why don't you walk an old lady to the Apple Blossom? I don't feel like cooking tonight." Ida slipped her arm around Mel's.
"What old lady is that?" Cornwall asked before kissing Jake's mother on the cheek.
"You're such a cute little flirt," she replied, smiling.
"It's the uniform," Mel explained.
Ida locked up the bakery, grabbed her cane, and the two of them started walking the few blocks to the restaurant. There were a few people on the streets, but most had already begun seeing to their meals for the evening.
Mel also had to help prep for the evening service. The work paid for his bed and meals. He was glad neither Jake nor Mike had suggested he just pay for those things now that he had another full time job. They needed the help. They needed him. Mel loved being needed.
It was a profound difference from the "on the shelf until he was good enough" feeling he equated with his college years. It was just the way things were on Riverworld, and he held no blame to his family.
"Do you have anymore of those juicy stories?" Ida asked as the restaurant came within sight.
"Tons, and not just about my family," Cornwall responded. "Some of it is quite scandalous," he promised.
"That's just what I want to hear," Ida responded. She gave him a little squeeze, which instantly reminded him of his own mother. She used to squeeze him like that when he'd done something to really please her.
Mel noted the man coming toward him and instantly went into defensive mode. He stepped in front of Ida, easily shielding the much smaller woman from the man. It was the assassin.
"You're dead, Melvin Cornwall," the man growled. He leveled his gun at Mel and fired.
Melvin didn't know where the speed came from. He knocked Ida to the side while firing unerringly at the assassin. The older man's body danced as the charged particles smashed into him.
"Officer under fire, assassin spotted," Cornwall reported. He checked Ida, who looked much more angry than hurt while cranking up the settings on his weapon. Someone from Riverworld could take a lot more pain and keep going.
The assassin turned and ran toward the Apple Blossom. Mel knew he wasn't fleeing, he was going for a hostage. Paul, Mike, Jake, Selena, and Sam were all inside, and Mel would give himself up for any of them.
Fearing for his friends, Mel rushed across the street and piled into the back of the other man. They tumbled on the ground and delivered hard punches to each other. Mel was surprised to be holding his own as the minutes dragged on when he heard this crack.
Ida Anderson, baker, wife, mother of four, grandmother of three, pillar of the community was beating the shit out of the other man with her cane. Ida looked almost deranged as she clobbered the assassin across the back, in the stomach, and under the jaw.
"This is what we call an old fashioned asskicking," she explained as the man tried to crawl away. Ida hit him in the side.
Cornwall got to his feet, collected his gun and the other man's gun, then shot the man with the heaviest stun level possible. The man finally passed out. Only then did Ida stop hitting him.
"Wait a minute," Mel protested. "You don't need that cane to walk at all."
Ida looked at him like he was terribly cute, but dim. "Whatever made you think I needed a cane to walk?" She waved at the unconscious assassin. "We did have a bad man running around you know? An old woman needs her protection."
Mel snorted. "You mean we need protection from you."
Ida smiled and she put her foot firmly in the small of the unconscious man's back. "Exactly," she agreed.
=======||(O)||=======
Clayton Markham snapped awake to find himself firmly strapped to a medical bed. Cornwall had fought back and some handsome older woman had beaten him with a heavy stick. That was definitely not the way he planned on the day ending.
He tested the restraints and saw that not only were they not going to give, they actually tightened the more he struggled. Clayton heard the door opening, so he pretended to be asleep.
"I already know you're awake," the man announced. He was tall and well built for an inferior with a strong face, silvery eyes, and long auburn hair. He did not look happy. "The name's Ace Sellars. Think of me as the last civil person you'll get to talk to before you're... escorted from the planet." He pulled up a chair and gave Clayton a tight smile.
"I have nothing to say to an inferior," Markham responded.
"Oh, that's *totally* the wrong attitude to bring to me, buster. I'm trying to save you a world of hurt here." The man actually looked sincere, but that didn't move Markham.
"I still have nothing to say," the assassin replied coldly. Dying on this little backwater of a planet was bad enough, but he was not going to buckle under to some inferior.
A woman glided into the room. She was very dark skinned, with short, curly hair, light brown eyes, and an impressive figure. Such a beauty would stop traffic on Riverworld. Even if she were an inferior.
"This is Justine," Sellars announced. "You really, really want to talk to me before she gets her hands on you."
Clayton laughed. The day he feared an unarmed woman was the day he deserved to die.
Sellars got up from his chair and headed toward the door. "God, I don't want to see this."
That stopped his laughter. Sellars looked spooked by what was to come. He left the room and closed the door softly.
Justine's light brown eyes seemed to darken and molten fire crawled across Markham's flesh. She was a mind-killer, a psychic, and abomination. She could and did tear his mind apart, shattering his ego and his resolve. Screaming, Clayton told the woman everything she wanted to know. Details came forth, even down to a precise list of who he'd killed and under whose orders.
Lying limp in the sweat and urine soaked bed, Clayton was left to reminisce on his past deeds. Death would have been preferable to what had just happened. It was a shame he hadn't listened to Ace Sellars. He was sure he wouldn't live long enough to regret it.
=======||(O)||=======
"His name is Clayton Markham, and he was hired by the law firm of Priestly, Williams, and Saunders to kill Anita Song, Melvin Cornwall, Tina Beckett, and Jason Kishi," Inquisitor Justine reported. "He'd already spent the fee, so he had to complete the contract before the Death Maidens arrived."
"He knew exactly when the Death Maidens were due to arrive?" Ace inquired.
"It's an open secret," planetary council member, Robert Rosenberg, responded. The blonde, green-eyed Robert was an inventor and new permanent resident of the planet. Along with his wife, Maxine, and twin daughters, Barbara and Jordan. His wife was a former Retrieval Officer from Earth. Retrieval Officers were the elite police force, artificially enhanced with super-senses to improve their tracking skills.
Though the planet was to host a Retrieval Officer Academy, there were currently no official Retrieval Officers working on the planet. Once the family was settled, Maxine would become just another cop on the beat. She was scheduled to be promoted to a lieutenant position because of her experience and skills.
"Death Maiden Lillian Preston is due here within hours. I'd like the planetary council to contract with her to return Markham to the planet," Robert suggested.
"Alone?" Justine asked incredulously.
"Actually, I think you and Maxine should go along," Robert continued. "They need to know we won't tolerate having assassins sent to our planet. When people take sanctuary here, they need to know they're safe." He cocked his head to the side and his expression hardened. "We need you to bloody their noses for us."
Justine was always amazed at how much steel there was in a man who looked like Robert. When she'd first seen him, she'd thought he was a fashion model. Then she found out how many advanced degrees the man had and how many things she owned that he'd invented. Then she saw the amazon he was married to and changed her mind about him again. Robert Rosenberg was a complex man.
"Consider it taken care of," Justine assured them.
=======||(O)||=======
The owners' group meeting for the Orion Railroad was in full swing, or at least the attendees were full. The meal had been a huge success and now the attendees were lingering over dessert, which was Mike's Sin--a chocolate walnut brownie topped with a layer of vanilla ice cream, a layer of chocolate-chocolate chip ice cream, followed by a layer of crushed walnuts and a drizzle of chocolate sauce. This, plus the local oven roasted coffee, was declared better than sex.
Angelo Kim, chairman of the group, stepped aside to receive news from Maxine Rosenberg, who had returned with Lillian Preston and Justine Rosenberg from Riverworld. He stepped back up to the head of the table after signaling to Sam Anderson that the ladies needed to be fed.
"May I have your attention, please." Angelo waited for silence. "Our delegation had returned from Riverworld after a positive mission. The chair recognizes Maxine Rosenberg to give us the news."
Maxine seemed surprised to be called on, but rose from her chair. She was incredibly tall and extremely well built, possessing an air of dignity which always seemed to surround her. She had medium brown skin, long brown hair, and dark brown eyes. She easily towered over Angelo by at least five inches.
"Thank you, Chairman Kim. Our delegation, consisting of Doctor Justine Rosenberg, Death Maiden Lillian 'Lethal' Preston, and myself delivered Clayton Markham to the offices of the law firm of Priestly, Williams, and Saunders at precisely 10 a.m. local time. After securing an instant appointment with Joan Priestly, we were able to express to them our displeasure at having Mr. Markham attempt to ply his trade on our world. Further, we made it clear that any future incidences would be met with even greater displeasure." Maxine paused and sipped from her glass of water. "Our group left just as the fire department arrived."
"Fire department?" Mike Anderson asked as he made the rounds with the wonderful coffee.
"Yes... Mysteriously, the law firm's building burned to the ground. Well, actually it burned all the way to the sub-basement level, even though nine companies of firefighters attempted to put it out. Strangely enough, no other building was damaged by the obviously intense blaze." She shook her beautiful head ruefully. "It must have been bad karma on their part. At least all of the employees escaped with their lives."
"Well, I'm sure they're all counting their blessings," Angelo threw in. "Were you able to deliver that same message to anyone else?"
"A list of the kills they'd ordered plus a recording of the fire was sent to every law firm which specializes in what they call acquisitions," Maxine explained. "I think they all understand our position now."
Angelo shook Maxine's hand. "Thank you for your precise report. Please enjoy dinner, because all of us have." His announcement was met with thunderous applause, which caused both Mike Anderson and Mel Cornwall to blush.
The meeting then turned to the question of adding a second shift onto the railroad crew. After lively debate, the question was put to a vote. It was almost unanimous--starting in spring, a second shift would be added to the crew. Of course the Apple Blossom would be contracted to supply food for that shift also. They might have a mutiny if they'd tried anything else.
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