Free Magician Interrupted by S. V. Brown Page B

the bathroom. “It’s not that—”
    “I SAID NOW, MARINE!”
    Paris removed his fingers from his ears and
heard commotion as they cleaned the toilet for Path. While he
resumed reading Path was shrieking instructions making sure it was
up to her standards.
     
    After twenty they entered Tasia’s atmosphere
and were jerked around in their seats again. There was a final clump and thump and the hatch opened. By this stage
they had all unbuckled and collected their gear. Paris found every
movement a struggle.
    “Activate your antigrav suits.”
    Paris barely managed to lift his arm to try
to press the soft button on his shoulder pad.
    “Shit, man, you aliens are weak.” Kabab
pressed it for him.
    Jackson pressed Path’s for her. In the dim
light provided by the ranger she batted her eyelids at him. As they
moved past Paris hissed, “What are you doing flirting on the
mission? Let Jackson concentrate, our ruddy lives are at
stake.”
    She blushed. “Oops. I’ve never been in this
form for as long.”
    Paris’s mind went blank before the panic set
in. “Will that be a problem?”
    She avoided his eyes. “We have to go.”
    It was dark and silently they ran out and
took up position. They waited while the capsule took off and was
parked in low orbit … apparently.
    They moved through the jungle and saw
movement to their right. Paris peered through the thick, wet
foliage. It looked like bodies were being moved. Path was nodding
at something. Paris adjusted his earpiece. Her voice came
through.
    “The way’s been cleared, we’re good to
go.”
    At Jackson’s hand signal they moved in and
along a narrow stream. Every now and then they crouched. At one
point Kabab bumped in to him. He whispered, “You’re freakin’ quiet,
alien. I take you were a part of the trap section as well back on
your planet?”
    “Yeah,” Paris drawled lying. He might have
bound the quiet spell too hard to his feet. At times he felt like
he wasn’t even touching the ground. When Kabab slapped him he
almost fell over.
    Paris couldn’t see Messma at all, even when
right in front. The dark skin blended in with the dark night and
shrubbery. They all had masks and crap but he could see … shit,
emerald eyes glowing.
    He tried to get Path’s attention.
    “What the fuck is that!”
    “Keep your voice down, Kab.”
    “Yeah, but boss, there’s a freakin’ cat next
to you.”
    “What? Don’t be stupid. Path is here. Is
there a cat?”
    To Paris’s relief she said, “No.” And her
eyes narrowed to reduce the glow.
    “Right, move in.”
    They saw a single level building with cleared
grounds all around. They were cut off from the general announcement
so they weren’t distracted by those mopping up the dead bodies.
Paris reached the door and kept his weapons pointing out while the
others filed through the doors. He was tapped on the shoulder and
he moved in. They made a sweep and set about cleaning the blood and
righting furniture.
    “Oh, shit. Top dog?”
    Jackson strolled over to Chezza who was
looking at something on the wall. “We have a problem?”
    “Yeah, us being the smugglers.”
    “Intel said that the buyers never meet…”
    “Yeah, but they aint human. These dudes have
special vocal cords.”
    Jackson studied them again. “You’re
right.”
    Paris was staring at Path who had opened her
mouth. She closed it. Jackson had turned back and noticed.
“Paris?”
    He looked at Jackson. “Nothing.”
    Path struggled and then said, “I can make
voice boxes. I am the comms techy chick.”
    Paris scowled at the guys who migrated to
her.
    Jackson said, “You little gem.”
    Paris left the room disgusted as they gushed
over her. He was supposed to be the hero! He stomped through to his
allocated room and threw himself on the bunk. After several minutes
Path snuck in and closed the door.
    “Paris?”
    He felt sulky. “What?”
    “I need you to cast a spell to the thing I
make.” She sat down next to him and placed a tiny hand