Under A Winter Sun by Johan Dahlgren (ink ebook reader txt) 📕

do that by challenging one of the other juveniles to a duel to the death.”

“Sounds harsh, even for Goliaths.”

“It keeps the population small and strong.”

“How pragmatic. So, why the Skullfucker?”

“The one who wins the duel is given a nickname based on the most memorable event of the fight.”

“So, you mean he actually …?” She points to the side of her head and looks sceptical.

“That's what I heard. This was way before I met him, but I've seen him work. I wouldn't put it past him.”

Jagr makes a face. “You said he was the second-best fighter you'd ever seen. Who's the best?”

“That would be Berengar the Defiler.”

“Do I even want to know what he did to earn that name?”

“No, you don't. He did the Corporate War circuit about the same time as Finn and I. The reason Finn was the top fighter and not Berengar, was because the Defiler was too demented even for that blood-crazed audience. He scared people. For real.”

“Sounds like a swell guy.”

“He's not. He's a Goliath berserker. I once saw him take out a full platoon of Nishin samurai single-handed.”

Jagr seems unimpressed. “Soledad could do that. Hell, you could do that, Perez.”

“Not if I was unarmed, and they wore state-of-the-art Tenshi combat armour.”

She raises an eyebrow, a little impressed at last. “So, Thorfinn is the prince of their little winter kingdom, which should make our job a lot easier. I suppose his word is their command?”

“Well, that's the thing. He went back to Nifelheim five years ago to be a Breeder, and I haven't spoken to him since his mother died and his father remarried. Finn took that hard and shut himself off from the world. He doesn't like his stepmother much. He's locked away in the Breeder monastery, making little Goliaths and working out in the priests' gym. Their rules state that while you're a Breeder, you give up all other privileges.”

This gives her pause.

“What? Why the fuck didn't you say so from the start?”

“You never asked. How was I supposed to know you needed a fucking prince?”

“Shit.” She ponders her options. “Who's next in line to the throne?”

“Finn's little brother, Eirik.”

“What's his nickname?” She sounds apprehensive.

“The Fair.”

“Sounds like we're in luck.”

“Fair has more to do with his looks than his sense of justice.”

“Oh. Do you know him?”

“Yeah. Eirik Wagner is a poseur, but he's not a bad man.”

“So, we should be fine.”

“Perhaps. He is a handsome, ambitious, and clever bastard. For a Goliath.”

“I'll keep that in mind. Now get back to your cabin, Perez. Deceleration burn begins in two minutes and now I have a call to make.”

Large orange numbers on the wall screen tell me we are at 2:12 and counting. Better hurry back. “Well, thanks for the briefing, Jagr.”

“Once in a lifetime thing, Perez.”

When I open the door, I almost collide with Soledad who's on her way in.

“Woah, watch it, handsome,” she greets me with a smile and looks me over. “Nice outfit. I came looking for you. Come on, it's time to strap down with me again.”

Then she sees Jagr pulling on her panties behind me and her smile freezes.

“Hey.” I grin, trying to block her view. “Let's go do some strapping down.”

Soledad doesn't reply. She keeps staring at Jagr over my shoulder as the door closes behind me.

I pull myself into our cabin and buckle up. Soledad straps down mere seconds before burn.

The engines ignite with a rumble, and we're pushed deep into our bunks once more.

“Later, Soledad,” I call.

She doesn't respond.

Is my timing shit or what?

* * *

When we arrive in orbit around Nifelheim, Soledad is asleep. Or she pretends to be asleep, to avoid speaking to me.

An automatic female voice issues from the speakers. “We are now in orbit. You are free to move about.”

The wall screen shows a beautiful image of the icy moon Nifelheim, rotating below us. Behind it looms the ice blue clouds of the gas giant Nirvana.

As I unstrap from the couch, there's a knock on the door.

“All hands on deck. The mess in two minutes.”

I kick off for the passageway. Soledad is still out. Or still faking it.

I leave her alone. If she wants to sulk, it's her funeral.

I'm first to arrive, and I grab a squeeze-bulb of coffee from the dispenser and suck it down without heating it. Like everything in space, it tastes of polymer, but I hope there's real caffeine in it. I need a pick-me-up after the flight. Forty-eight hours of acceleration and deceleration take their toll, even with the regeneration and the drugs. I can't imagine how the human crew feel.

Probably like Braden looks.

She's first of the girls to show up, and she looks like hell. Her blue hair's a mess, she's got purple rings around her eyes and her skin is pale and shiny with sweat.

“Hey,” she rasps and jerks her chin at me.

“Hey.” My voice is not any better. “Pleasant trip?”

She hacks what could be a laugh from a sore throat and puts a bulb of coffee in the heater.

“No. You?”

“Can't say that I did. And Soledad hasn't said a word to me all trip.”

“Yeah, I heard about that. Smooth Perez. Real smooth.” The machine pings to tell her the coffee is ready, and she sucks it down. “Fuck, that's bad.”

She makes a face. “Don't they have anything stronger on this boat?”

She rummages through the cupboards. “Help me out.”

“They don't allow booze on navy ships anymore.” Which is too bad because I could use a stiff drink myself.

“Damn.” She gives up her search and turns around. “So. How was she?”

“How was who?” I play innocent.

“Jagr. How was the ice maiden? We thought she didn't have sex.”

I give her my best Casanova smile. “She hadn't met me.”

“She's using you, Perez.”

Braden looks at me with sympathy. “It's basic dog psychology. Give the dog a treat, and he will follow you around, hoping for another. I, on the other hand …”

“Take a number, Braden.”

She smiles. “More coffee?”

I'm not sure my stomach could take it.

“Sure, heat me one.”

She throws two more