_ Hiiro

  "Ya Allah! This place is too fucking hot." Evander complained from his chair, while sipping at chilled water, in the shade of an erected awning, where he supervised those of us toiling in the sun.

  "It could be worse." I said, stabbing into the loose, dry soil with my shovel for emphasis. "You could actually be working."

  One of the local vigia (the unscrupulous thugs and lowlife gangsters that Celio employed as the rank and file of his criminal empire) collapsed from heat exhaustion to emphasize my point. I was no stranger to hard labor but years of easy living had softened me somewhat, too many treats while lazing on the sofa for my own good. These vigia had apparently never known a hard day's work in their lives. He wasn't the first to fall today and I doubted he'd be the last.

  "We are working." Idris said from her twin brother's side. "It just so happens that our job is to winnow those with the will to fight from those without."

  "Anyone can strengthen their body so long as they have a strong mind, but we've yet to find a way to strengthen a weak mind." Evander added.

  "Not to mention, these pigs could use the exercise. Wouldn't you say, Xan?"

  "I concur, Driz" The desert-world twins clinked their crystal glasses of ice-water together and drank deeply.

  I stabbed into the dirt again, making sure to throw my spoil as close to nattering siblings as I could. My throw was short, scattering spill over vigia too exhausted to complain. Despite it all, it felt good to turn off my brain, pick up a shovel and just work. There was something almost meditative about it, like driving down an open stretch of familiar road. I still couldn't really wrap my head around how far I'd come without really going anywhere at all. I was on another planet, and somehow nothing really seemed that different.

  My first impressions of the hilltop estate was downright decadent. If you could think up a way to waste money and take up space, Celio had it and then some. There was an runway that doubled as a dragstrip for his hangers of imported cars. He had a rock garden, water garden, flower garden, statue garden and just about every other garden there was except a vegetable garden. While there was no shortage of local food growing nearby, Celio imported everything from the orbital spin-barrels (city-sized greenhouses in space, near as I could figure) growing all sorts of 'exotic' delicacies that couldn't survive the continent's oppressive heat. Despite being a stone's throw from the ocean there were indoor and outdoor pools so big you could go boating in them. The palace was so bloated with excess it had its own geothermal power plant, water processing, machine shop, tailor/seamstress, firing range, medical clinic and even a dedicated mail courier a short walk down the access road. And all that was to say nothing of the palace itself with its wings of royal apartments and banquette halls and offices. When we'd first landed planetside, Celio had mentioned how this place used to be a governor's estate and after a week, I was starting to think you could rule the whole damned world from here. And the view!

  The estate dominated a plateau, anywhere on the grounds you had a commanding overview of the surroundings. At a dozen different spots I could see the orange-red mass of Cruibab proper some twenty-odd kilometers to the northwest and the short mountains the coastal city clung to. I looked out my room's window and saw the arid mesa valleys to the south with the ocean and all its scattered steely constructs to the east. The plateau's eastern cliffside was steep but it wasn't a sheer drop to the crashing waves below; there were entire portions of the bluff that had spartan apartments carved straight into the stone for the maids. The cliff dwellings were amazing in a neolithic kind of way and I wondered if I'd ever be able to make something like them even with all my pioneering experience. From the southeast to the west and the north, orchards and plantations of exotic, colorful fruits dotted the rolling hills as far as the eye could see.

  For all that, me and damn near a hundred of Celio vigia were digging holes in the front yard. I shook my head and kept digging.

  "I get the rest of these sweating dogs, but what about me?" I shouted up to the twins. "Do I need to lose some weight too?"

  I was the only man in the labor gang who'd stripped off his sweat-soaked shirt to work. My aching muscles stood defined under my tawny skin, every inch of me gleaming with sweat, making me shine like polished bronze in the midday sun. Sure, I was a little soft around the edges but I was solid under that thin layer of blubber. I'd never be a hulking giant of a man with brawny arms like tree trunks, but I certainly stood apart from the pot-bellied, flabby-armed gangsters wheezing around me as they inexpertly struck the earth.

  "If anything, you should try and put some on." Idris said, her eyes rolling over me as one might a toasted snack on a cold day.

  "We have some combi-steroids in with our dietary supplements, though you might need to fight some of the big'uns for them." Evander commented.

  "How many holes do I need to dig to prove I'm the best damned shovel operator you've got?" I asked, climbing out of my most recent triumph.

  "Oh you've already done that." Idris stated.

  "You are truly a master of your craft." Evander confirmed.

  "But we're not judging you that their standard-" Idris started.

  "We're judging you by our standard, which is much higher as you may have guessed." Evander continued.

  "Plus, you're the rookie. Rookies do all the scut work, it's tradition." Idris concluded, nodding sagely. I glared at the twins, but started on another hole spaced four meters from the last one I'd dug.

  A team of maids loaded the most recent heat casualty into a wheelbarrow and carted him off. In the week I'd been on planet, it was probably the women that scared me the most. I tried not to think of this place like Tengoku but there was no denying the similarities. I couldn't walk ten meters without tripping over a dozen gorgeous women in their frilly uniforms. They were everywhere, as much a decoration as they were the working backbone of Celio's palace. From menial labor to the most skilled trades, the maids didn't just cook and clean, they did everything Celio's vigia couldn't be bothered to do. They never complained, never slacked off, they kept their peace and carried out their tasks like dutiful mutes.

  I tried not to sneak a glance at the maid standing statue still in the scorching suns a respectful distance off to the side— at my maid. Her white frilly dress trimmed with black accents must have been cloying in the heat and humidity but she, nor any of the maids, were ever anything other than picture perfect. As if there weren't enough maids already, each of the mercs had been given a personal valet to 'use as we see fit,' not that I much cared for that. She saw me looking and rather than trying to pretend I wasn't, I rolled with it and waved her over.

  Zoe-Esther was about average height, which meant she stood a good few centimeters taller than me in her work heels and the hole I was started on didn't help either. Big brown eyes, a small nose and straight lips all filled out the young woman's oblong face. Her straight chestnut hair was pulled up tight into one of those little button caps that all the palace maids wore, but instead of the usual white customary to the 'serving girls,' her cap was the sandy tan adopted by Celio's up and coming battle maids.

  "Could I get some water, please?" I asked, still unsure of how to go about dealing with my personal valet.

  She didn't say anything, just gave a little bow and forked over the water bottle I wasn't permitted to carry for myself. The only time I was free of her incessant pampering was when she disappeared for militia training, if the woman ever slept or ate I hadn't seen it yet. Having someone handy was a nice gesture on paper, but I just couldn't get used to it. The idea of not being allowed to attend my own necessities was completely alien. If I needed food or water or clothes, they were fetched for me and if I snuck behind her back to do it myself Zoe-Esther went all icy on me like I'd spit on her grandma or something. The working women, the whole practice really, reminded me too much of Tengoku. I swallowed down the bitter memories and greedily emptied the bottle.

  "Will you require anything else, Sir?" She asked.

  "No. Thank you, Zoe-Esther."

  She gave another of those little bows while lifting her skirts and went back to standing out of the way. I kept digging and tried not to think about it, but trying not to think about something was a lot like trying to fall asleep. The more I tried, the harder it got and operating a shovel wasn't doing a damned thing to keep my mind busy.

  I couldn't help wondering if it was like this everywhere. Some rich asshole with more money than sense trampling the world under his feet because he could. Celio had said he was trying to save his city, but what did that look like? I knew from experience that the underworld might help out the common people from time to time, but that was a side-effect more often than not. Hell, most of my paintings were commissioned because someone preyed upon the wrong people, usually after having done it for months or even years. Sure, it was better for everyone if the sickos, rapists and serial murderers were dealt with once and for all, but altruism had never been the real reason that I crept into someone's home in the dark of night.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  What did it even mean to 'save a city' in the first place?

  Another man of Celio's vigia collapsed, interrupting my train of thought. His sweat-soaked sun-shawl flipping up to reveal bright-red skin on his arms and face where his clothes had failed to protect him. The local clothing was designed to combat the omnipresent heat of this world, but much like the cold of my homeworld, there was only so much it could do. Cruibab and the neighboring regions had three distinct weather patterns: sunny and sweltering, scorching and windy, lastly there was night which always blew in a tepid sandy/salty sea breeze.

  Common outerwear consisted of loose-woven shawls or ponchos, wide-brimmed hats with translucent face veils and airy balloon-sleeved shirts and trousers. If I didn't look too closely, I could almost pretend the bulky garments were similar to the heavy, cold-weather attire of my homeworld. What surprised me most about the local dress was the complete lack of shoes in favor of two-piece sandals with open sides. Most of the Stalking Shadow's mercs had taken to the local garb with gusto in a vain attempt to beat the heat. A few, such as Evander and Idris, already had superior equivalents and saw no point in downgrading to the local knock-offs.

  I was one of exactly three people who didn't find the climate to be soul-crushingly oppressive— the other two being Bim, who didn't seem notice the temperature had doubled, and Treu who seemed to enjoy the stifling heat for reasons only he knew. Even the scorching suns burning high overhead at their zenith wasn't enough to make me foam at the mouth like some of the locals were. It was unpleasantly warm on my freshly-bronzed skin but that was about it.

  Another two vigia succumbed to the heat before I finished my latest hole. I lit up a cigarette (one of the few things Zoe-Esther permitted me to do for myself) and watched them get carted off. I'd dug another thirteen holes and outlasted somewhere north of forty men before a tirade of disparaging remarks forced me to lift my head from the earth.

  Princess (fully wrapped against the sun and hiding under a large, black parasol for good measure) was providing 'instruction' to the Vigia whose excavations failed to meet her standards. The pale woman's grand vision of turning the estate into a cliffside castle had been turned down in favor of more utilitarian, non-invasive fortifications— namely a few rings minefields funneling the landward approach into choke points, hence the thousands of holes that needed digging. I wasn't privy to all the details of her master plan (well actually I was, I just hadn't paid that much attention during the umpteenth meeting when she'd covered it) but I knew she basically wanted to start from scratch and that necessitated tearing down everything she could first.

  I just kept my head down while Princess questioned the intelligence, fortitude, education, morals and parentage of the men who couldn't follow such basic directions. Her instruction lasted long enough for me to dig another four holes to completion and get halfway through another cigarette before I was cast in shadow.

  "Mudsucker!" Princess barked, "Get out of there and come with me. And put a shirt on, that cross is murder on my eyes in this light."

  "We don't all have the figure for a burka " I said teasingly.

  "You think I get this marshmallows and milk complexion from sunbatheing all day? Hurry up already."

  "What's the rush?" I asked, doing as she'd ordered. When Zoe-Esther moved to join us, Princess glared daggers at her.

  "Command meeting. No uninvited guests."

  I gave Zoe an apologetic shrug and caught up to Princess as I groaned— mostly from the day's labor but I was tiring of Leeroy and his endless meetings. I swear that dogmatic bastard had a ten-step plan ready every time he dropped some scat.

  "Another one?" I groaned.

  "What did you expect? This is what being a merc is about. Ninety-five percent of the job is preparing for every outcome, that way we never have to risk a fair fight. That last five percent is all the adrenaline-junkie, action trideo garbage that people think merc work is. You can't honestly tell me you ran at every 'house painting' job half-cocked and blind?"

  "Of course not, I put in my legwork, but still this is getting ridiculous." I said, finally stepping out of the sun and into the blessed shade of the palace's east wing.

  "I know 'Roy is wound tight but he knows what he's doing. When shit hits the vents—and it will, make no mistake on that—all these meetings and plans of his are going to be the reason we know what to do, how to do it and that we have the gear we need to make it happen." Princess said, doffing her outerwear to reveal tight-fitting monochrome clothes that did nothing for her boyish body or inhuman face.

  The east wing had been completely turned over to the outfit, which meant we more or less had full run of a five-star hotel plus attached office complex. The conference hall serving as command center was in with the luxury apartments on the third floor, but Princess led me passed the stairs and made for the ground floor study instead.

  "Isn't the meeting in the usual place?" I asked, following her into the study where she closed and locked the door behind us.

  Had our positions been reversed, this would be the part where I either pulled out my gun and asked if she had any last words, or made her an offer she couldn't refuse. Less scrupulous men in that position might have also issued a third option to the woman, if they could get passed her complete lack of feminine charms, that was. As it actually was, I found myself reflexively reaching to my waistband for a gun I wasn't wearing.

  "It is," She said coyly. "It's also scheduled in another forty minutes."

  "And you've locked us in this secluded, dark room because…"

  "Because these studies are lined with lead plating." She said, as if that explained everything.

  "Naturally." I said sarcastically. Princess fidgeted with a tiny, pointless bauble before returning it to the shelf and picking up another.

  "You need a gun." She blurted out. "If you get yourself killed before paying off your debt, I'm out a lot of money."

  I answered with an agreeable grunt and waited for her to get to the point. Her manner wasn't the usual cold distant norm for her, but I couldn't figure out why she'd drug me in here, looking for privacy. What exactly was she expecting me to do? Was this her idea of a romantic rendezvous? She hesitantly stopped scanning the room and turned her overlarge, purple eyes to me, surveying the air around me for things only she could see.

  "H-How you settling in?" She asked, a tone of irregular familiarity tumbling from her mouth without any grace.

  "You suck at small talk. Just spit it out." I stated bluntly enough to shatter the awkward air that had built. A single snort of laughter bled form Princess as she finally looked at me instead of through me.

  "People aren't really my strong suit." She admitted. "It's been a bit, I'm wondering about my investment. Any news of the magic or freakish variety?"

  "It shows. I'm not sure if I'm heat-resistant or just tolerant of the climate, but I'm basically immune to the weather outside."

  "I've noticed. This background heat is scrambling my infra-vision. I can barely spot anyone on the lower end of my spectrum— aside from you. Your girlfriend is the complete opposite, she's the same temperature as whatever room she's in, which probably confuses the hell out of all the IR cameras I've seen in this place. The big guy is…" She trailed off, staring at one point of wall in particular. "I don't even want to think about what he is. Anything else with you?"

  "No. Sorry."

  "Damn. Whatever." Princess said, hefting another bauble. "I could always try killing you and see what happens, but I'd rather not risk you accidentally popping my eyes."

  "You'd never forget the smell." I answered, recalling it all too well.

  "Can we not talk about the smell! It's bad enough just thinking about it and there's not enough brain-bleach in the galaxy to convince me otherwise." Princess shuddered at the thought, then after a collecting herself and spotting on something invisible, she continued. "What about Bim?"

  "She seems to be taking things well." I answered noncommittally.

  "Don't be dense." Princess snapped.

  Without an easy way of avoiding the topic, I considered it properly. There wasn't much of a shift in Bim's behavior. She kept to herself, walking around like a sleepwalker lost in thought at all hours of this planet's annoyingly long days. As far as I knew, she still wasn't much of a conversationalist and on the freaky-power scale she barely registered as a blip. If it weren't for the fact that I was drawn to her every time we were in the same room and whatever that whole 'names have power' thing was, I would have thought she was a normal enough, sheltered rich girl.

  "I haven't seen her do anything weirder than a normal person would since we got here." I said with a shrug, and caught myself suddenly wrong footed.

  I'd said normal person as if I wasn't one of them anymore. It was true, but still. I couldn't place exactly when I'd stopped considering myself normal. It was after I'd met this pale woman who'd forced me to accept the reality of my condition, but beyond that, I couldn't say.

  "Me neither." Princess hesitantly admitted. "You and her seem to be getting pretty chummy…" I wasn't sure what to say and for a second I saw a glint in her inhuman eyes like she'd seen something. "Nevermind. Just… be careful. You still owe me a lot of money."

  Her wristwatch chose that exact moment to chime. In the span of a few breaths, Princess collected herself and completely changed mental gears.

  "Come on, we do have a meeting to attend after all. It should go without saying, but just in case, let's keep these talks between us freaks. Otherwise I'll have to kill you."

  "Duly noted." I said as I unlocked the study door.

  This time I led the way with Princess following, her eyes practically boring into me from behind. Bim was on the stairway when we got there, examining the intricate artistry that seems to be depicting the collapse of an era the higher one climbed. The whole thing was too poetic and flowery for me to get much out of it, I preferred impressionism over hyper-detailed works, but the inquisitive alien woman seemed to be enthralled by the minute details.

  "We've got another command meeting soon," I said. "Did you want to come with us?"

  "I have a choice?" Bim asked in her usual delayed, aloof manner.

  "More than I do." I answered. "I'm heading up now."

  "…Then I shall accompany you."

  oh ya, you can expect me to get around to editing eventually too. (only took me 2 years to make good on the editting) **Lol, whoops, forgot to name this chapter, I need some coffee.