The new Emperor had wanted to keep me on Yanem Two, but I don’t like being tied down to one place. I had been taken on as security during his coronation, which I had guided him safely though, and that was enough for me. I recommended one of my old Death Squad brothers as my replacement and moved on. The question was, was this my next stop? Or was I just passing through?
Looking down at the narrow face and beady eyes of the ultra wealthy aristocrat in front of me, I had a feeling I was passing through. I didn’t like the looks of Lord Baslik Le’rank and I hadn’t even heard what he had to say yet.
“I am in need of security for a trip I have coming up—I’ll be doing a little business on Fenushia Alpha.” He had a high, nasal voice that grated on the ears—on my ears, at least.
“Oh, yeah?” I raised my eyebrows at him. “I’ve never heard that the Fenushians were especially hostile.”
“Oh, they’re not,” he assured me hastily. “But I have enemies who would be happy to attack me the minute I leave the safety of my family compound.”
I knew a little about his enemies—rival families who dealt in the same dirty business Le’rank did himself. Mostly pharmaceutical chemicals so dangerous and toxic that they were outlawed on civilized planets—with a fair amount of currency laundering and deadly weapons manufacturing thrown in for good measure. And then there were the little people of the Northern Continent, which his father ruled. There were ugly rumors of rebellion from that quarter, and murmurs of revolt.
I always check out my possible clients thoroughly, even if I don’t intend to take their offer—I don’t like being kept in the dark. I don’t give a damn about their dirty doings, but I need to know what I’m walking into before I take the first step.
“I see,” I said, nodding. “And I guess you want me to guard you during your trip there and back? I don’t do long-term assignments,” I added, letting him know up front. “I specialize in one-offs—special circumstances, high profile events that carry extra risk—that kind of thing.”
“Yes, I’m well aware of your accomplishments, Mr. Sark,” he said, nodding at me. “I checked you out—the same way you no doubt examined my background when I asked you for this interview.”
Well, Le’rank might look like an inbred royal asshole, but clearly he wasn’t stupid, I thought.
“All right, fair enough,” I said, nodding. “So you want me to guard you during your trip to Fenushia Alpha.”
“Not me,” he said, smiling that weaselly smile of his. “My darling wife, Isla. You see, she will be as much at risk as I am during this trip—more so, even, for my enemies will no doubt target her in order to hurt me.”
“Why not leave her at home, then?” I asked, reasonably, I thought.
But Le’rank scowled at this idea.
“There are reasons she must accompany me—reasons I do not care to divulge to a hired bodyguard.”
I frowned.
“I prefer the term, ‘Security Specialist’.”
“Fine, whatever.” He waved one hand in a dismissive gesture. “Sufficed to say, I’ll want you watching her day and night—making certain she doesn’t leave the safety of our family compound while we are here and then guarding her constantly during the trip to Fenushia Alpha. You must never leave her side or let her out of your sight—do I make myself clear?”
He was clear all right, and I was already pretty sure I wasn’t going to take this job. The ultra-rich are often assholes—too much money makes almost anyone into an entitled bastard. But there are limits. And I already didn’t like Baslik Le’rank for reasons I couldn’t exactly put my finger on. Mostly he was just a weaselly little bastard whose voice got on my nerves and I could tell he would be a pain to work for.
“All right, thanks for the interview,” I said, nodding at him and staring to get up. “But I don’t think—”
And that’s when it happened. Something so weird—so fucking bizarre—I didn’t know how to process it. Hell, I still don’t—that’s probably why this log entry is so damn long…
Sark paused for a moment, pacing as he took the recording device from his lips, trying to think how to explain the strange experience.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his thick, black hair. “So fucking weird!”
At last he lifted the recorder to his lips and began speaking again.
What happened was I felt this sudden pressure. It felt like there was someone standing behind me with their hands on my shoulders, pressing me down, forcing me to stay in the seat I was trying to get up from.
What the hell? I looked around, trying to see the bastard who was doing this, but there was no one there—no one behind me at all. And yet, the pressure continued, holding me effortlessly in place—which isn’t easy since I can lift five times my own body weight and I’m not exactly small.