Jade Darcy and the Zen Pirates

Chapter 2: A Mercenary’s Vacation-2

As Jade resumed her pacing, Megan sat back patiently, waiting for her to reach her own solution. She hadn’t raised a half dozen children without learning some of the tricks of the trade.

“If I could f*****g go off to some nice clean war, where you know who you are and who the enemy is, and what you’re supposed to do about them… what am I saying? I must be crazy to want to get shot at—but I can’t take any more of this routine, either.”

Jade flung herself into the chair next to Megan and shot halfway out of it again as her bruises flared through the light anesthetic. She lowered herself down more gently as Megan tried to smother her smile.

“That’s right. Laugh at a poor wounded invalid. Hell, I must look pretty damn funny at that.”

Megan looked at the still naked woman across from her, gleaming from the massage oil, her hair in soft tendrils curling about her face, her almond eyes—a heritage from her Japanese ancestors—flashing darkly, her delicate features flushed with emotion, and thought that “funny” was the last word she’d use. “You need a vacation.”

“That’s the f*****g problem, I’ve had a vacation. I need work,” Jade said, leaning forward to place her elbows on her knees and her head on her hands. The pose made her look fourteen until you looked at the fine lines just starting to appear around her eyes. Those eyes were older than death.

Megan picked up the frizzlic, who’d given up on Jade paying any attention to it and skittered over to second-best. “This isn’t a vacation. It may not be your main work, as well I know, but a vacation it’s not. A vacation is a break from all work, doing only what you’d like and nothing else. Now, what would that be?”

Killing Barker was the first thought in Jade’s mind, but that was something even Megan didn’t and could never know about. “I can’t think of anything particular.”

Megan saw the carnivorous, predatory expression that flashed across Jade’s face, and knew that was a lie. In the last three years she’d learned not to probe too much, or it drove away the one person in a dozen light years she could call friend. But associating with Jade was often like striking a match in a darkened munitions dump.

Am I crazy? she wondered. Do I have a death wish? This woman’s threatened to kill me before, and she still might if I learn whatever it is about her past that she doesn’t want me to know. I could drop her. There are plenty of good people who are easier to work with. But—

But there was more to Jade Darcy than just the carc, the killing machine—something that made Megan keep coming back, despite the danger. She gave a mental sigh. Jade wasn’t the only one who was getting tired of walking a diplomatic tightrope. Megan just had more practice at it, and a patience born of experience.

“Why not just take off and go somewhere new?” she said aloud. “See something different, far away from Rix’s, and wars, and business meetings. There must be someplace you’d like to visit.” She watched and listened carefully, hoping to gain some further clue into the mystery that was Jade.

“Can you see me as a tourist with a camera around my neck? Not f*****g likely. Besides, there’s nowhere I could go. There’s hardly anyplace nearby I haven’t seen for one war or business trip or another—and most of them would rather not be reminded of my visit, and vice versa. Mercenaries don’t get to take vacations, anyway. Anywhere we go, they look at us. ‘Who’s she here to kill this time? Who hired her? When is the fight going to happen?’ I’d make trouble just by being there. Who would want me to stop by for a visit?”

“The Furgatos,” came Val’s voice unexpectedly. “There is still the open invitation to the Imperial First Snow Festival on Restaapa.”

“Sure, the Exec has been working on that one for years, but I don’t want to stay in some monastery and… pray… all...day. What the hell’s the matter with you?”

Megan’s face had turned as pale as the white spot on Pain-In-The-Ass’s forehead, and her mouth had dropped open. Jade had never seen her so stunned. She reached over and lifted Megan’s jaw with her right hand, then sat up straight as Megan sputtered a moment before making sense.

Megan started, stopped, took a deep breath, then turned to Val’s console. “Show me the invitation, Val.” To her surprise the screen didn’t light up; instead, an octagon of handmade paper was held out to her by a small waldo. Taking it gently in hand, she reverently ran her fingers over the blue-black seal and the beautifully drawn calligraphy. “What does this translate as, Val?”

“‘Jade Darcy household is allowed permission to attend the Imperial Festival of First Snow, to be held at the Monastery of the Dirda Hills, beginning the cycle of—’ a local date about two weeks from now. ‘Arrival before this date is required as per Imperial Law.’ It is chopped by that individual Jade calls the Exec, and the abbot of the Furgato sect, and sealed by Great-Tree-In-The-Dense-Forest, Imperial Chamberlain, the officer in charge of the festival.”

Megan sat stock still, her mouth working silently. Jade stood it as long as she could, then asked, “Is it that f*****g important?”

Megan looked at her as though she were demented, then explained. “There are, out of the ten thousand worlds in the system, maybe five virgin, unallied rich markets. The plum of them all is Restaapa. Except for the dirda melons the Furgato export and a few insignificant novelties they import for the rest of the population, the Restaals have allowed no trade, no alliances, no real contact with the outside world. Last Restaal year they had four outsiders at this festival, only one of which was human—and he couldn’t bring even a secretary or his wife. Less than twenty aliens have ever been allowed outside of the transfer town, and it took years of negotiation for them to arrange it—and they were just scholars.

“The Greest let us put some surveillance satellites in orbit around Restaapa, so we know it’s a planet rich in heavy metals, that very little industrialization has occurred, and that it has not even begun to tap the oil, or gold, or osmium, or any of it. Then there is the rich plant life that produces alkaloids that… well, look at the dirdas and the Palovoi alone. CafTech and every other corporation has been trying for years to get a toe in the door—and you get a bloody invitation to the most important, the single most important, social and political event on Restaapa for the next six of our years, and you ask if it’s that important?” Megan’s voice hadn’t reached a screech exactly, but the frizzlic decided to take off through the little swinging door to brave the predators outside instead.

In a voice so meek most people wouldn’t have recognized it as Jade’s, the stunned mercenary asked, “Do you want to go?”

“When I think of all the time and energy I’ve devoted these last months to wangle a way to get to a lesser festival, much less the Imperial, I… What did you say?” Megan stopped ranting long enough to look at Jade, and saw the kind of smile she usually wore after performing one of her worst practical jokes.

“You said I need a vacation. I think I need work. I know I need the money. You want to go to this thing because it’s important to CafTech. The invitation says ‘household.’” Jade’s grin grew wider as she saw the impatience swell in Megan. She thought about drawing it out further, but knew Megan could go into apoplexy if she did. “If you’ll pay me my usual fees for the duration and pick up the expenses—we’ll go to the stupid damn thing.”

“Val—record, witness, and bond that last statement. Girl, you’re on, we’ll leave tomorrow. Damn—what kind of wardrobe do we need? Val, look up traditional costume, Restaapa, Snow Festival. Then—”

“Hold it, Cafferty. I have to check with Disson first and be sure my shift is covered. And I didn’t say anything about tomorrow. Val—”

“Disson Peng-Amur sends his best wishes,” Val said, “and says he needed some shifts for the new trainees to work into anyway; enjoy the time off. He reminds you you have eighteen shifts of vacation time at present, including the three he gave you for your difficulties tonight. He also posted a hazard bonus of seventy-five eus to your account, in addition to your vacation funds.

“Ms. Cafferty, the designs you requested are displayed on the eastern wall. As recycling systems are not listed as one of the exports to Restaapa, I recommend preparing them out of cloth that can withstand primitive laundering with alkali soaps and water.”

Jade held up her hand to stop the computer’s information. She glanced at the triumphant expression on Megan Cafferty’s face, at the various designs of clothing projected on the wall, and at the invitation Megan still held as gently as a frail goblet. “I need two days to recover from tonight, and get Pain-In-The-Ass set up, and it will take at least that to get the clothes made anyway. We’ll leave five days from now.”

Megan leaped up and pulled Jade into her arms. She gave the younger woman a hug and a hearty kiss, and swung her around.

Jade froze. She never let anyone grab her, and as for kissing… the less thought about that, the better. It came as a sudden revelation to her that she was naked—not even knives strapped to her arms. As soon as she could, she broke away and headed for the whirlpool tub.

“Get out of here,” she called as she lowered herself into the water, trying to keep her roiling emotions under control. “Go harass your own computer for the information.”

Megan gathered up her things and called out, “Who’s employing who around here? I’m the one who signs the checks, remember.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one with the goddamn invitation.”

“See you later, boss,” said Megan as she walked out of the door, the frizzlic skittering back inside between her feet.

The little pet scrambled up onto the chair, and from there to the armrest beside the hydrotherapy tub. Absentmindedly Jade began to pet it, ignoring its sneezes of disdain as water dripped in its nose.

What kind of idiocy have I let myself in for? Weeks with those thieving Furgatos in a strange place. At least, from what Megan said, there won’t be any other humans, maybe no other aliens at all. She turned in the tub so the jets hit some new places, and sighed with the luxuriant feeling. It should be safe enough. The pay will come in handy, and it’ll be away from Rix’s and the goddamn Phelphums.

Jade had Val call up the data on Restaapa and the festival and tried to concentrate on it, stealing occasional glances at her only bathroom ornament—a glorious, charming carp carved out of golden jade given to her by the Furgato Exec years before. Between the fatigue and the languor induced by the tub, it was difficult to concentrate on the information Val provided—but it was still more comfortable than thinking about the strange warmth she’d felt when Megan had hugged and kissed her. It had been the first time any human had done so in nearly twelve years, and Jade had convinced herself she didn’t care if it ever happened again. But she kept remembering how good it had felt and, she knew, would feel the next time. If she could allow a next time. If she could deny a next time.

The frizzlic skittered toward the main room, overwhelmed by the spray as Jade turned up the water jets to pummel her body—and, she hoped, distract her from her dilemma.