Hard Luck Hank Screw the Galaxy(83)

CHAPTER 34


I woke up in the back of an ambulance, but I told them to drop me off at my apartment. I wasn’t going to the hospital and have them play around with me again.

I checked my teeth. I had recently gotten my falsies removed and it would be just like Wallow to knock them out again. But they seemed okay.

Shuffling into my apartment, I longed for a drink and a nap. But there were two people inside waiting for me.

One was a handsome, middle-aged man in a military uniform with an obscene number of commendations on it. He wore a crisp hat and, amazingly, had a sword on his belt. Not a fancy technological sword, just a regular old sword. Like he was expecting any minute to be attacked by time travelers from 50,000 years ago.

The other man was shorter, older, less attractive, had fewer medals, and numerous medical implants on his face.

“Hi,” I said, nonplussed.

“Ah, you must be Hank,” the swordsman answered. “Forgive us, but your door was open. In fact, it doesn’t seem as if it can close.”

He had a peculiar accent. Not one I was familiar with. He was cocky without being a jerk about it.

“I’m sure this is regarding something,” I started, “but I just got my head cracked by a Therezian and I’d just like to take it easy if you don’t mind.”

“Ah, yes, I heard about that. Ensign Wallow seems to have some history with you. Forgive me,” the man said, smiling.

My curiosity got the better of me.

“Did he always work for you guys?”

“No, no. You just need to understand how their minds work.” The way he stated that made me think he was going to tell me more, but he didn’t.

All this time the older man had been staring at me intently. He had a bitter little face, that one. As if he was swooshing vinegar around his mouth constantly.

“I haven’t introduced myself. I’m not used to…,” he trailed off. “I am The Honorious Consular Prefecture Wardian Swife Jonathe.”

I didn’t quite snort, but I sniffed. Where did they come up with these titles? I wasn’t even sure where his name started in all that mess.

“Cool.” I offered my hand, which he shook in a powerful grasp.

“This is Kaprine General Mush’tathina,” he said, introducing the older man, who did not seem anxious to shake my hand and I didn’t offer it. He didn’t have a sword, but he had a pistol in a holster.

“But you don’t need to introduce yourself, we are all aware of your exploits for the Colmarian Confederation,” he said, smiling.

I just couldn’t get over that sword. I mean, what was the purpose? There was almost no greater indication this man wasn’t a real combatant than carrying an ancient weapon. I wonder if it works as some kind of reverse status, where the higher the rank, the lower the technology. So the super-duper-high overlord of the Navy would carry a stick or a clump of dirt.

“It says you’re a pipe refitter,” General Mush’tathina said with his ugly mouth. “What does that entail?”

I scratched my ear.

“Pipes. Fitting them together and stuff,” I said with no authority.

“You fought two Dredel Led. How did you defeat them?” Wardian Jonathe asked. He was pleasant, curious, but I could tell he didn’t get fifty pounds of medals on his chest being a sap.

“I…just shot them.”

“With what? You’ll excuse me, but as Consular Exar of the Southern States and Wardian of the 3rd Navy, the safety of my citizens is of paramount concern. I need to know what weapon to use if they should return.”

I reached into my jacket and took out my shotgun.

The General quickly took it from me. He moved far faster than his age would indicate.

“It’s a shotgun,” he said dismissively to the Wardian.

“Wow, you ARE a general,” I said.

He didn’t hand it back.

“So you’re saying that gun was used to kill the Dredel Led? The one lying in many pieces at citizen Delovoa’s residence?” The Wardian’s voice was still kind. He had a manner of talking that put you at ease even though every instinct told you not to be. Or maybe that was my brain still reeling from Wallow’s blow.

“Things happened so fast…,” I trailed off.

“The report is that you tracked the robot down over days,” he interrupted calmly.

“Yeah, but after that it was fast.”

“Do you mind if I sit down?” he asked, walking to the kitchen instead of the scraps that used to be my couch. He sat and I realized that right on the table in front of him was a cube of multicolored metal, just looking for a comet to bash. Was he goading me? I did my best not to panic.

“And you’re a mutant, correct?”