Blaedergil's Host by C.M. Simpson (reading well .TXT) 📕

We did, moving cautiously along the roof, but not before looking back to see exactly what had happened in the direction of the stairwell. Well, that was impressive. It looked like Tens had cratered a corner of the roof and most of the stairs.

Yeah. Good luck with following us out here.

“They could still find the access panel in the storage room,” Mack reminded me.

Spoil sport, I thought, but Mack did not reply, and I followed him as he trotted along the ridgeline of the roof, as though he was following the top of a hill. I guess you could think of it like that—if you ignored the oh-so-too-many-meters drop over the edge. Why did the man have to build such a tall mansion? I mean, why couldn’t it have been a flat, friendly two-story’s or so?

We followed the roof-line around, so that we were moving along the top of another wing of Blaedergil’s property, and I was glad it was as wide as it was. All the better for the servants to stand on while they scrubbed, I supposed.

We travelled in silence, slowly catching our breaths from the race up the stairs. When Tens interrupted, it was not good news.

“We’ve got company,” he said, and Mack slowed to a walk, as he replied; we were nearing the far end of the roof, anyway.

“What sort of company.”

“The sort we have to run from.”

Fan-fucking-tastic, I thought, but Tens wasn’t finished.

“If we don’t catch you on this grab, then you’re on your own.”

Mack and I looked back at the hole we’d made in the roof. There was movement just above it, a dark shape emerging—one that was clearly armed. As one, we turned back, gauging the distance to the roof’s edge. I dipped my chin in a nod to show I’d go along with what Mack had in mind—the implant was good like that.

“Now,” Mack said, and we began to run.

“‘Now’ what?” Tens wanted to know.

“If you don’t catch us on this grab,” Mack told him, his voice uneven as he ran, “don’t bother coming back. We’ll be jam.”

I half expected Tens to ask why, but he was watching us on the scans.

“Fuck!” he said, and I could hear others echoing the sentiment, as Mack and I leapt outward.

I’d like to say I was very brave. I really would, but that would be a lie. I ran because no way in all the stars was I going to let those bastards catch me—and I jumped because it was all there was left to do.

Would Tens’ teleport team catch me? I don’t know, but they’d picked me up, when I was in a speeding vehicle falling into a sewerage pond, so I had to hope they’d pick me up now. I mean, me on foot had to be that much easier, right?

“Riiight...” said Tens as my body stopped falling, leaving my brains and stomach to try and catch up—which was a technical impossibility, given I’d been moved from one point in space to another, and technically ceased to exist in between.

I closed my mouth, and opened my eyes, and silence descended, as Mack did the same. Up until that moment, I hadn’t realized we’d both been screaming. Tens had moved out from behind the console, and was standing beside the platform, and he wasn’t looking very impressed.

“You done, now?”

I glared at him. It wasn’t like I was the only one who’d been making the noise. I stood up, but Mack didn’t move. When I looked back at him, he was sitting on the platform, his forearms resting on his knees, and just staring into nothing. Looked like the stupidity of what he’d just done was starting to catch up with him.

“You coming, Old Man?” I asked, and he turned his head enough to stare at me.

“Only Tens gets to call me that.”

I put one hand on my hip, and cocked my head.

“Yeah?” and Tens started to back up.

I didn’t need to see his face to know he had an inkling of what was coming. I kept my attention on Mack, taking a step towards him and extending one hand.

“Let me help you,” I said, and, to my surprise, he took my hand, and let me haul him to his feet.

Which also left my other hand free to wind back so I could punch him in the head.

I let go of him, as soon as I’d landed the hit, hearing him hit the floor behind me. Strangely enough, the teleport team had left the room. Tens, on the other hand, was leaning on the wall beside the door. I scowled at him, not liking the way he was positioned.

He raised both hands and backed up a step.

“Son of a bitch!” Mack shouted, and I couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped me, as I kept moving towards the door.

I probably should have expected the sudden surge of movement behind me, and the hand that grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and hoisted me off the floor. I unzipped the combat jacket enough to shrug out of it and drop to the floor—and I didn’t look back, as I walked out the door, leaving the jacket dangling from Mack’s hand.

“I need a shower,” I said, “and maybe to throw up.”

Both of which were true, if he could only be bothered to look inside my head. Of course, if he did that, he’d see the almighty finger I was crafting out of pixels made up a multitude of one-fingered salutes. It helped to keep the nausea at bay.

Even so, I was surprised when he let me go. Nothing like sassing your boss, and being allowed to walk away—no matter how bad you’re starting to feel.

17—A Clean Bill

I got to take my shower, but no matter how hard I scrubbed, I just didn’t feel clean. I also threw up, and I thought it was just because of what I’d seen down in Blaedergil’s mansion, until I stepped out of the san unit