Hard Luck Hank Screw the Galaxy(57)

“I was going to get some rations, you want any?” I asked warily.

“No, thank you.”

I got my food and sat down to eat, facing her. She was definitely up to something.

“So,” I began, “you heard about Ddewn?”

“Yeah,” she answered, disinterested.

I kept eating, nearly choking on my food.

“And?” I prompted.

“And what?” she said, finally looking up.

“About Ddewn,” I pushed.

“I suppose he had it coming,” she shrugged. “You done eating?”

“No,” I said hastily, opening another packet of rations. Was this my last meal? Did she figure out all the things I was juggling and was going to artillery my apartment?

I got dressed just so I could put on my guns. I had purchased the flare from Delovoa—or I guess more accurately, I had failed to return it when we got slightly sidetracked by the appearance of a new Dredel Led. I taped the weapon to the outside of my boot, it being too large to put inside.

I picked up my Ontakian pistol and really wished it was working. I clicked it on sadly and to my amazement, it came to life. The green glow. The deep rumble.

“Hey, Garm. Check it out, my pistol is working again,” I said, as happy as I had been in ages.

“Gah. Put that damn thing away,” she said, shielding her face from it.

Wow, I couldn’t believe it. My pistol worked. I powered it off and put it in my holster.

“Right, so I came here because I have a job for you. First off, do you have everything…under control? No citywide catatonia?” she asked.

There wasn’t really anything under control. We could dump ZR3 in space, but what if it decided not to go while we were moving it? My delfiblinium was dangerous anywhere you put it. And Jyonal and Jyen I had no idea what to do with.

“Yeah, everything is as good as it can be,” I said.

“Alright,” Garm said, clearly not liking to be in the dark, “I’ve got some rats I need taken care of.”

“Some what?”

“Not everyone who works for me has been happy with the way I run things here. They’ve sent all kinds of messages reporting me to the authorities, highlighting my various mismanagements and so-called dirty dealings.”

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“No. But the funny thing is they know we work at a communications station and I’m a Military Intelligence officer, yet they thought I couldn’t intercept their messages.”

“They just sent these?”

“Oh, no, it’s been going on for years. They didn’t seem to care they weren’t getting any replies.”

“Why didn’t you bring it up earlier with them?” I asked.

“Because it didn’t matter. And because they had jobs to do. But now with battlecruisers coming, it’s going to matter if they start talking.”

“You want me to kill your soldiers?” I asked, surprised.

“They aren’t soldiers. They’re just professionals. We can’t kill them all, I figure we can get by with two out of the five. So when they ask where all the employees are”—Garm shrugged in mock confusion—“it’s not statistically significant.”

She handed me a list with five names on it. I knew a couple of the names vaguely, but they were obviously in a different crowd. If they were squealing on Garm, they were in a very different crowd. Must be a lonely life for an honest citizen on Belvaille.

As I looked at the list my door buzzed. I thought I had turned it off. I ignored it.

“You going to get that?” Garm asked.

I shook my head and kept looking at the five names as if I were reading something incredibly complex.

Garm went to my door and opened it.

I looked outside and saw it was one of Ddewn’s old thugs. Oh great. A payback? I took out my shotgun and hurried as fast as I could to back up Garm.

“Yes?” Garm asked.

The poor guy looked terrified. As I rounded up, gun in hand, he threw out his arm towards me. He held a token.

“From Big Moff,” he blurted.

It was a token for eighty thousand credits. Hey, a bonus.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, taking the token.

“Who’s Big Moff?” Garm asked, clearly not favoring the name.

“He’s the new boss in Ddewn’s old territory,” I stated as if she should know these things.

After depositing the token, I holstered my shotgun and turned back to the thug.

“Tell Big Moff thanks,” I said. “What’s your name?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he stammered, and hurried off.

I closed the door and went back inside. Things were looking up.

“Was that eighty grand?” she asked.

“Yup,” I said happily. But then I got serious looking back at the list. “So I can scare these guys, but I’m not going to be so scary once your friends from the Navy get here.”