Free Magician Interrupted by S. V. Brown Page A

probably looked, sheepish
because Kabab slapped him on the back. “Forget it.”
    Two minutes later they boarded the tub and
were loading up their weapons. Paris rolled his eyes while the
others laughed.
    “It is kinda funny, alien.”
    “Yeah, yeah.”
    “What’s funny?” Path asked appearing from
behind a stack of crates being lashed down by Jackson.
    To his relief the guys told her a crude story
to which she giggled even as Paris blanched and moved quickly away.
He stored his pack and weapons in his locker and made comfortable
in his seat. The tub was small and seats were on either side. At
the back, near the rear hatch, were the crates. Jackson came
through checking their stuff. Paris asked, “I thought you were the
leader?”
    “Yeah, the commander says that leaders need
to be humble so they gotta do some of the shit jobs as well.”
    “Ah huh.”
    “That bitch needs a—”
    “Chezza! Enough.”
    Chezza laughed and sat down. “Sure, sir.”
    After they settled Paris looked behind him as
the rear hatch closed and they were sitting in the dark. “Whose
piloting?”
    A dark hand rose in the seat before him and
waved what looked like a games console. “Me.”
    Suddenly they were jerking in their seats,
lights came on, and Paris could hear a tinny voice giving them the
all clear. He’d seen the specs on the ranger they were in, it
looked more like a capsule than a war-like spacecraft. The energy
readings were low and the material non-reflective. The capsule
trundled along something and then wop! Paris was being shoved back
in his seat, he heard Path squealing in laughter.
    They jerked to the right, then left, and
slowly his cheeks filled out again in the right places. He rubbed
them to get the circulation back. They had no monitors to watch
what was going on. The first ten minutes were kinda fun. The next
ten hours were boring. Paris looked across at Chezza who was
reading. Ahead he could hear Path and Jackson chatting away. Kabab
was snoring just ahead of Chezza.
    Paris sighed and jumped as a book was thrown
in his lap. He turned seeing the almond-shaped eyes on him.
    “Sigh again and I’ll have to kill you.”
    “This book better be good then.”
    Chezza leaned over. “You getting sassy with
me, marine?”
    Paris reached over and rubbed the short crop
of dark hair. “Be a good boy and learn your ABCs.”
    Chezza grabbed his hand. “This is Chinese
burn. My grandfather showed me.”
    “Yeow! Alright, enough.”
    Jackson yelled at them. “Keep from making
politically incorrect remarks boys, the commander wants the files.
Messma?”
    “Yeah, I’ll erase that shit out.”
    Paris snorted. “So, our Chinese marine can’t
say Chinese burn but we can say ‘shit’?”
    “Good point. Messma?”
    “Fucking erase our files and give ‘em all
Alien burn on the way out.”
    “Oorah.”
    “Ooray.” Paris laughed.
    Jackson yelled. “Give that marine a smack on
the head!”
    Paris leaned over to Chezza. “Hey, what does
Chinese burn mean anyway?”
    Chezza shrugged. “No idea.” He smacked him on
the head.
    Paris rubbed his sore head. “The marines, or
rather the commander obviously doesn’t care about aggravation.”
    “She likes that marine show where the old
ex-gunny slaps all his team around.”
    Kabab raised his voice, “Na, she just likes
the ex-gunny actor.”
    Paris sighed.
     
    They settled down and Paris dozed after
reading a little when they were told to go to the toilet. “Take a
piss, boys, and chick. We’re on in thirty.”
    One by one they filed at the back to use the
tiny room. Paris wiped his hands and headed back out. Path squealed
when she got there. “You pigs! I should have gone first.”
    Paris sat down quickly knowing what was
coming next while the others moved to her. He hid his smiles and
strapped back in.
    “I want that cleaned. Now!”
    “Look, kitty cat…” Jackson said thinking
something was really wrong. Paris glanced behind as their leader
poked his head in to