Chapter 3
Murder City
Three days later, Mark awoke. The Barbara Anne was equipped with a beetle-sized hatch in the fusion drive compartment, which led to a tunnel that ended at the wall behind the workbench. This way the bug could get to and from his room without irradiating the interior of the ship each time he wanted to take a nap.
Elias was tightening the last few screws on the handle of his gun, a new core installed beneath the grip. He could hear Mark skittering through the walls before he could see him. When the beetle emerged from a hole at the back of the bench he was faced with the barrel of the gun.
Mark let out a screech, his casing raising up in a defensive stance.
“You take my gun apart again,” Elias warned, “we’re going to have a serious problem.”
“Ckt! Tzzick-ckt-etkzzidt!” Mark said, stomping his feet.
“No.”
“Zzickt!”
“No!”
“Zzickt!”
“You don’t need the energy core,” Elias yelled, whipping his arm around to point the gun at the floor next to the bunks, where the fusion drive was hidden. “You’ve got all the radiation you need on the ship already!”
Mark’s wing casing lowered, and he looked away. “Zzidt-ii-etkci-iizitk…”
Elias sighed, the tools on the bench rattling as he tossed the gun on the surface. He leaned his elbows on his knees to get closer to Mark’s level. “Was it actually too far, or were you too drunk to make it?”
Mark leaned from side to side. “Tckt-i-zkt-htzkt-ii-zzickt.”
“Miss out? I’m disappointed in you,” Elias said, standing and turning to hide his smirk. Lucky for Mark, the few days he slept was enough of a break for Elias to get over his initial anger about the destruction of his gun. He schooled his features and leaned against a tall cabinet on the opposite wall. swinging the door open with his next words. “You should know better than to think that I would leave that cruiser without first raiding the bar.”
Mark flew into the cabinet the instant he caught sight of what was inside. Fifty unopened bottles of liquor sat on a shelf. No sense leaving it all to go to waste. Elias pulled Mark away before he could finish breaking the wax seal on a particularly expensive bottle of Bourbon. The bug pushed against the fingers that caged him with surprising strength while Elias shut and locked the cabinet.
“Hold it, now. These are for later.”
“Zz-kttickt!”
Elias laughed. “I’ve been called worse.” He sat in the pilot’s chair. The yoke was leaning, pulling the ship into a gentle curve. He set Mark on top of it. “We don’t have to break into our stash. Barbara’s already on the descent.”
The bug did a spinning hop to face the window, a massive red planet filling the view.
“Iizzckt-ii…” Mark jumped onto the glass, crawling over it to get a better look.
This was the closest to awe Elias had ever seen from the little bug, and he couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face as Mark examined the planet. Only part of it was visible as they descended into the upper atmosphere, the rest out of sight at the edges of the windscreen. “Humans call it Su… Suje, Sute? Actually,” he laughed, “I can’t remember, something about an everlasting warmth. Nobody calls it that anyway.”
It wasn’t red like Mars, but darker, somewhere between blood orange and scarlett. Vermillion. The planet was tidally locked to its star, a red dwarf, meaning one side was frozen, while the other side burned. Somewhere between, in a ring of perpetual twilight, were the lucky bastards who found the only place to survive. The hull of the ship rumbled around them. It was something that Elias always had to get used to again between their assignments. There just wasn’t as much turbulence in deep space. Below a mist of clouds, the lights of a strip city split the planet in two.
“Zziick-itti-tckt-izzit.” Mark hopped off the window, wings sparkling golden orange in the incandescent light of the star as he flew back to settle on Elias’s shoulder.
“You’re right, it’s quite a sight.” He flicked a switch above his head to turn off the autopilot, grabbing the yoke and pushing it forward to propel them toward the city. “It’s a shame it’s such a shithole.”
The star was on their right. As the city grew closer, the details of the buildings emerged, stacked skyscrapers stabbing the sky like a million jagged needles. The whole thing wrapped around the planet like a belt, tendrils of solar farms branching out into the desert from the buildings on the right, steaming factories snaking into the dark tundra on the left. Murder City. He hadn’t seen it in years, but it never changed. It was where beings went when they found that they had overstayed their welcome everywhere else. Quite the achievement to be banished to the only planet willing to shelter the most hated cunts in the Milky Way.
Each length of the city housed a few vertical hangars. He parked Barbara in one that was nearest the day edge of the strip, halfway down the structure. The hatch squealed as it opened, and Mark crawled on the wall as Elias shrugged on his jacket. He went with a hip holster instead of his usual shoulder one. No telling how many idiots here would be willing to grab the gun from his back, given the chance.
“Tcktiz-zzii?”
“Top’s too expensive,” he answered, buckling the bottom of the holster around his thigh. It had metal latches that clasped around the gun as soon as the weight of the weapon rested on the nose plate at his thigh. Bit flashy for his tastes, but it was a faster draw than a standard leather pocket. He ducked under the door, opening a keypad on the outside of the ship and typing in a code to lock it down. The hinges protested again as the door descended.
“Zitckti-zzii?” Mark asked, landing on Elias’s shoulder with a gust of wind.
“If we parked at the bottom, all the booze would be gone by the time we got back.”
Mark looked affronted at the idea as they entered the dirty elevator. “Ikctzi-tckt-i-zzicktz?”
“Of course they would,” Elias laughed. “We stole it first, didn’t we? Ground floor,” he added, and the elevator began to move.
“Zziiz-ii-izckti-zckt-i-tchtit-tckt!”
He shrugged. “It’s a planet full of criminals, Mark. We’ll be lucky if no one tries to kill us within the hour. Actually, get in,” he held the pocket on the front of his jacket open, “We’ll draw less attention if you keep out of view. Your shell may as well be a flashing neon light.”
Mark grumbled but crawled into the pocket. He had been looking forward to seeing this city since they first found out where Merrick Lavigne was hiding out. It was the only job they’ve had to bring them close enough to the planet for a visit.
Despite persistent rumors, which they were happy to encourage, Mark wasn’t completely devoid of the ability to create memories. He had been injured about two years before they met, and remembered everything after the injury, but nothing before it, nor the event that had caused the memory loss in the first place. Between jobs, they searched for any hint they could find about his past. They had a list of places to visit, and Murder City was always at the top. Every assassin visited the planet at some point in their career, whether for work or pleasure. In Mark’s case, probably both.
The sound of the main street assaulted Elias’s ears as the elevator doors opened. People milled about, lit up by an array of colorful signs on the buildings, advertising any number of wares and experiences that would be illegal on any other planet. There was an unusual mix of gear on the population of the city. Weaving between the center strip dwellers, who dressed in higher fashions, were individuals in heavy winter gear, and others in feather light desert tech, depending on which side of the belt their jobs landed them.
Elias grabbed the bicep of a slight Aurelian man in a thin white top as they passed by. The gold skin of the creature was cool under his fingers. They were wearing the same desert clothes as other starside workers on the street. “Armory?”
The man’s nervous face stared up at him, red eyes wide in fear. His heartbeat glowed brighter under the center of the white fabric on his chest. Fucking Aurelians, scared of their own shadows.
“I’m not going to hurt you, mate. I just need to stock up on ammo for the old banger.” He patted his gun at his hip, red eyes following the movement.
“A-across from Tau’s casino,” the man stuttered, reaching a hand between them to point out the way, “about a half a leg in that direction.”
Elias let go of the man’s arm, giving him a gentle chuck on the chin. His ring clinked against golden skin. “There you go. Not too bad, was it?”
The Aurelian stumbled back a few steps before turning and running into an alley in the direction of the solar farms. Elias shook his head as he watched the man scamper away. His pocket chirped with laughter.
“What the hell?” Pulling the front of his jacket out, Mark was staring at him through a hole that wasn’t there before, not a lick of shame on his little bug face. The leather groaned where Elias’s fingers tightened in their hold of it. “You,” he dropped it, running his hands through his hair and taking a deep breath to calm the inferno in his chest. “It doesn’t matter.”
The armory was exactly where the Aurelian said it would be, across from the disgustingly ostentatious Tau casino. Women from a number of different species were displayed in windows at the front of it, touching each other to entice the people on the street to enter the establishment. As they approached the armory, a limousine parted the crowd, stopping in front of the casino. A woman with dark hair and a sharp suit exited the vehicle with her errand boy. They met who appeared to be the manager of the casino at the entrance. He bowed to the woman, but she ignored him in favor of whispering something to her boy, pointing at a few of the prostitutes in the windows. The boy spoke to the manager, who started snapping his fingers at the selected women, directing them to follow as the group entered the building.
“Tcktitki-zckti.”
“Yeah,” Elias agreed. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to follow the woman as well, he could feel her presence from across the wide street, but they had shit to do. “Stop talking,” he said, opening the door to the armory.
A bell rang over his head. The inside of the shop was hazy with smoke, and a single middle-aged Tauren was leaning on a glass display case. Or young, who can tell with Taurens. She was holding a corrugated tube with a brass tip in one hand, the other side of the tube attached to an atomizer. Green smoke crawled up the sides of her face from the gills on her neck, following the paths of tattoos that ran down from her hairline and disappeared underneath her shirt.
“Hello, love,” Elias smiled. The woman raised an eyebrow, but otherwise ignored his greeting. “I’m in the market for class Y charges.”
Her eyes drifted to his gun. “Class Y weapons are rare these days. It will cost you extra.” The multitonal nature of her voice gave the illusion that three different women were speaking at once.
“Fine,” he agreed.
She reached a webbed hand beneath the counter and pressed a button, resuming her casual stance and inhaling more of the green smoke while they waited. “I know a collector in the market for a gun like that,” she said, glancing again at his hip. “I could get you double its value.”
Elias smirked and leaned against the counter, wrapping his fingers around her hand and pulling it to his mouth. The mouthpiece of the atomizer was cool between his lips as inhaled deeply. The smoke was clean, a vapor, maybe a hint of algae. It billowed between them as he exhaled, breaking into green tendrils over the scales on her chest. His head was clearer than it had been in days. “I’m afraid the gun’s not for sale,” he said, letting go of her hand and straightening back up. “I’m sentimental, you see. Though I may take a cube of whatever it is you’re smoking, if you’re selling it.”
She straightened as well, dropping the mouthpiece to clank against the display glass. “I’ll give you triple its value, and a weapon from this case to replace it.” She indicated the case that was between them. It was filled with modern energy weapons, pistols mostly. Each had a quick release, high efficiency energy core, and thirty round capacity minimum.
Another Tauren, a man, appeared from a back room, carrying a metal box. He set it on top of the display case. “Class Y charges, was it?”
“That’s right,” Elias answered.
The man flipped the latches to open the box and handed him one of the charges to examine. “There are fifty cartridges in the case.”
Turning it in his hand and seeing nothing concerning, Elias handed it back to the man with a nod. “How much?”
The man shrugged. “Eight thousand points.”
“No, how much of this ammo do you have?” Elias asked.
“What about my offer?” the woman interrupted.
“Jesus,” Elias mumbled, looking at the ceiling. “I’ve already told you it’s not for sale. I’m not going to change my mind. Now, get me more ammo, or point me in the direction of a shop that has what I need.”
He ended up having to purchase a duffle bag from them as well once they got him what he wanted, which was three additional cases. The woman wasn’t wrong about the ammo being rare, so he liked to stock up whenever he had a chance. The Tauren man threw in a couple of cubes of the green smoke on the house.
“One last thing,” Elias said, slinging the bag over his shoulder. He pulled a couple of pictures from an inner pocket in his jacket. “Have you ever seen this man?” He handed them one of the pictures. It was old and creased.
The Tauren man hummed as he stared at the image, the woman looking over his shoulder. “It looks like a lot of the human men we’ve seen over the years,” he said, handing the picture back.
“This one wouldn’t be like most who visit this planet. He was a merchant, sold trinkets,” Elias explained, accepting the picture back. He set the prints on the counter and lifted his gun from its holster, releasing the charge from it before handing it to the man. “This was his gun. Your daughter seemed interested enough in it. Have you seen it before?”
The man glared at the woman, chastising her in a language Elias didn’t understand. The woman went into the back, stomping all the way. “I’m sorry,” the man said. “My daughter’s manners are forgotten when she thinks there’s a deal to be made.”
“It’s fine.” Elias waved the man’s apologies away. “Do you know this gun?”
The man traced the inscription on the barrel with his fingers. “Monsters killing monsters, killing monsters.”
“He, uh,” Elias swallowed, mouth dry, “was a soldier once, before I was born. Never talked about it much.”
“Sorry,” the shopkeep said, handing the gun back. “I don’t know this weapon. Are you sure he’s been here? If he wasn’t a criminal, I’m not sure what business he would have had on this planet.”
“I’m positive. He died here.”
“Oh.” The man looked down at the picture on the counter, sliding it closer. “I still don’t know him.” He frowned, sliding the other picture out from under the image of Elias’s father. “I’ve seen this one before, though. It’s been years, but I’ve never seen another one like it.” The second picture was of Mark.
“You know this bug?” Elias asked, pointing at the picture. Adrenaline hit his heart with a shock. Of every stranger they had shown Mark’s photo to between jobs, this was the first time someone had recognized him. “Has he been in here before?”
“No, no,” the man said, shaking his head. “He used to go to the casinos, years ago. Haven’t seen him in so long, I assumed he died.”
Mark chose that moment to jump out of his hiding place, landing on his own image and peppering the Tauren man with questions.
“I’m sorry,” the man said, waving his webbed hands in front of himself. “I don’t understand your language.”
“He’s asking when you last saw him,” Elias translated. “Was he alone? Have you ever seen him with someone? Do you know anything else about him? Mark, stop. Let him answer some questions before you ask more.”
The Tauren shook his head, directing his answers to Mark. “I don’t remember the exact timeframe, only that you used to come here for a few weeks every cycle. We never met, and I never saw you more than a few times. You were alone, I think. I had heard rumors that you were dangerous, more than most who came here, so I kept my distance. Sorry.”
“You were last here five years ago.”
The Tauren woman was leaning against the doorway that separated the back room from the front.
Her father said a single word in their language, her name, probably.
“What?” she said, “He asked, and I answered.” She stepped up to stand next to her father, addressing Mark. “You showed up at the exact time every cycle, drank and gambled, and then left. It was always the same. You even stayed at the same casino each time you were here.”
“Tcktii-i-zzcktiti?”
“Which one?”
She pointed out the front windows of the shop. Elias and Mark both turned around. Tau Casino glowed across the street, all flashing bulbs and neon.
“You would stay in that nightmare, wouldn’t you?” Elias asked, looking down at Mark.
“Zzickt-htckti-ckt.”
Elias huffed a laugh. Adjusting the duffle strap on his shoulder, he grabbed the pictures from the display case, putting them back in his jacket. Mark flew to his shoulder as he reloaded and holstered his gun. “Thanks for your help,” he said, heading for the door. He stopped with his hand on the handle and turned back to the Taurens. “Don’t tell anyone we were here. We’d hate to have to come back.”
The man’s mouth fell open, but Elias didn’t bother to wait for a response, already out on the street. He shouldered his way through the crowd, Mark huddling against his neck to avoid getting caught in the collisions. No one greeted them at the entrance, but that was fine. He headed straight for the bar. If anyone here would know Mark, it would be a bartender.
It was packed, and he had to push a shorter man in a white suit out of the way to gain access to the counter.
“Hey!” The short man yelled, followed by the click of a hammer being cocked. “Do you know who you’re fucking with, Terran?”
“I’m afraid your reputation doesn’t precede you, mate.” Elias sighed, his head rolling to the side as he turned to the little man. “Wait, Terran? Did you really just call me a Terran when you’re just as human as I am? Well,” he looked down at the man with a smirk, “maybe not just as.”
Mark’s laugh chirped from his right shoulder.
The bald patch on top of the man’s head turned red in sync with his face. “I’ll have you know, I own half the mines on Mars. I pay less money to hunt trash like you in the fields than I make each minute of the day.”
“Oh, I’m impressed,” Elias said, grabbing the back of the man’s neck and pulling him close. “All that hunting experience and you didn’t even notice who drew their weapon first.” He pressed his gun into the man’s crotch, making him jump.
Mark clicked his wing casing.
“I’m sorry,” the man whispered, sweat beading on his forehead. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
“How about you put your gun away and buy us a drink, eh?”
“Yeah, yeah. I can do that.” He tucked his gun, a hideous chrome thing with pearl grips, back into his suit.
“There’s a good oligarch,” Elias said, giving him a slap on the back that had him stumbling into the bar. He immediately started waving an arm to get the bartender’s attention.
Elias knew exactly who he was once he got a look at him. Felix Carens. He didn’t own shit, not while his daddy was still alive and hoarding money and power like the fat old dragon he was.
Felix turned back to him once the bartender arrived, a skinny man whose hair was too gray for his face. “What do you and your…friend,” Felix frowned at Mark, “want to drink?”
“Bourbon, top shelf, and a minute of your time.”
The bartender didn’t blink at the request. “Time costs extra.”
“God, I hate this place,” Elias grumbled. “It’s on my friend, here.” He nodded at Felix.
“But, you only said a drink.”
He stared at Felix, and Felix turned back to the bartender.
“How much?”
Money exchanged, and a few moments later they were standing to the side of the bar with drinks in hand. Well, body in drink for Mark. Elias held both his and Mark’s drinks.
The bartender lit a cigarette and took a long drag. “What do you want? I’ve only got a few minutes.”
Felix bounced on the heels of his white leather soles, looking from the bartender to Elias, eyebrows raised in interest.
Elias narrowed his eyes at him. “You can go now.”
“Oh!” He looked disappointed, pointing back to the bar. “I’ll just… ok.”
He waited until Felix was a fair distance away, tapping Mark on the head with his index finger as he started to rattle off questions again. “Settle down.”
The bartender frowned at them.
“My friend,” he held up the glass with Mark in it, “used to come here for a few weeks each cycle. I need to know if you remember him.”
The bartender took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling as he leaned in to get a better look.
Mark coughed, engulfed in the cloud.
Elias held the other glass against his chest with his arm, waving his hand to dissipate the smoke. “Really, mate?”
The bartender straightened with a smirk. “Sure, I remember him. Drank too much. Shitty tipper.”
“Great, revenge fantasy fulfilled.” Elias grabbed the cigarette from the man before he could take another drag, tossing it to the floor and grinding it into the carpet with the toe of his boot. “Did you ever see anyone else with him?”
The bartender was unbothered, placing his hands into his pockets and leaning his head back. “Sure, all the time. He was the life of the party on his visits, buying everyone drinks and attracting crowds to the tables. The regulars practically mourned after the accident.”
“Tckti-zzi?”
“Accident?”
“What accident?”
Elias looked over his shoulder to find Felix. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Oh, uh…” He looked down at his feet. “No one would talk to me at the bar, so—”
“Actually, I don’t care,” Elias interrupted, turning back to the bartender. “Tell me about this accident.”
The bartender waved an arm at someone behind them in the crowded casino. “We actually got it on video. There’s cameras all over this place.”
“You have a security video from five years ago?” Elias asked, skeptical.
“We have older ones than that,” the bartender said. “We like to save the special ones.”
A guard stepped up to them. He was as tall as Elias, with skin that looked like asphalt and four arms. “We have a problem here, Dev?”
“No, Marin. These guys need to see the highlights.”
The security guard, Marin, grinned. “I love those,” he said, “but that’s gonna cost you extra.”
Mark groaned.
“Is that phrase on your flag, or?”
Marin frowned. “I don’t follow.”
“Right.”
“I’ve got it,” Felix interjected, handing the security guard some money with a bit too much enthusiasm. “Let’s see this video.”
“Just invite yourself along, why don’t you?” Elias downed his Bourbon. It definitely wasn’t top shelf. He handed the empty cup to Felix and waved a hand for the security guard to precede them. “Lead the way.”
Thanks for reading chapter 3 of Amnesiac Assassin! Here’s your weekly reminder that this is a first draft that is being uploaded as I write it, and so there may be mistakes and inconsistencies that you wouldn’t usually see in my writing. That said, this story only continues if you want it to. Vote yes in the poll above if you’d like to see another chapter for this story, and vote no if you’d like the story to end here. You can also leave a comment with your vote, and any other thoughts you have on the story so far.
This has easily been one of the most fun chapters to write yet. I knew I wanted them to go to whatever place in the galaxy would be host to the worst of the worst in society, and I knew exactly the type of hellscape planet that I wanted it to be located on. I hope you can see Murder City in your mind as clearly as I can. In fact, this location was so much fun that I couldn’t finish with it in a single chapter. I don’t usually like to hint at what the next chapter will contain, but it’s a safe bet that it will involve a little more time in Murder City.
As you know if you read my note after the previous chapter, I’m a pantser, and so I have no idea where a story will take me when I’m writing a first draft. I can have all the ideas I want, but the story will go where the story wants to go, no matter my feelings about it. In that vein, the most unexpected thing about this chapter was our new friend, Felix. This seems to always happen to me when writing, that I’ll create a character on the spot to serve a single purpose, and suddenly they steal just enough of the spotlight to earn themselves a ticket to the rest of the story. Felix was created in the moment as a simple comedic encounter for Elias to have at the bar. By the time he was turning around, so timid, and asking Elias and Mark what they would like to drink, I was in love with the little idiot. He more than earned a bigger role in this story in that short encounter, and I can’t wait to see what becomes of him.
I hope you’ve enjoyed chapter 3 of Amnesiac Assassin as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’ll meet you back in Murder City next week, vote permitting.
Bowie, the little scamp, has inhaled all the coffee!
(It’s blueberry herbal tea, guys.)
Until next week!
"He schooled his features...."