The Man Who Never Missed by Steve Perry Read Free Book Online Page B

No calls short of planetary emergency, I think he said.”
    The Lojt nodded. “All right. This way.”
    It would take five minutes to get back to the Jade Flower; it would probably be another twenty or thirty minutes after that before anybody seriously tried to disturb Befalhavare Creg; there would be another few minutes of confusion after he was found before the chain-of-command collected itself enough to check the recording and figure out what happened; finally, a few more minutes would elapse before troopers stormed the Jade Flower, looking for the Shamba Scum. He could figure on an hour, at least. Plenty of time.
    Inside the Flower, Khadaji found Sleel. “Clear everybody out,” he said. “We’re closing.” “Huh?”
    “The Jade Flower is going to close. Tell Anjue to start herding the troops out; I want the place cleared in fifteen minutes.”
    “But—but—”
    “Just do it.” Khadaji was aware of Sleel’s stare at his back as he walked toward the drug room. He rapped on the densecris window and got Butch’s attention. “What’s happenin’, Boss?” “Open up, Butch.”
    The reaper locks snicked open and the thick stainless steel door swung wide. The chief pubtender stood in the doorway. “Somethin’ up?”
    “Go help Sleel. We’re closing for a little while. I want everybody outside.” “What’s the deal?”
    “Not to worry, Butch. Somebody will be asking for me soon—tell them where I am.” He walked into the drug room and started to cycle the door shut.
    “What is it, Boss? You in some kinda trouble? Listen, me ‘n’ Sleel can hold ‘em off if you—”
    Khadaji smiled. “Thanks, Butch, I appreciate it. But you do what I told you, that’ll help the most.” The door swung closed. Khadaji walked over in front of the dispensing window and stood framed in it. He saw Butch and Sleel both look at him, and at least a dozen troopers saw him before he opaqued the window. The crystal faded slowly to black. Alone in the room, he took a deep breath and slowly sat on his heels in the kneeling position called seiza. He had at least three-quarters of an hour, plenty of time for a short meditation.
    His mind would not be still. It had been over ten years since he’d learned the first of the calming procedures he’d used from that point. They had become almost automatic in that time, his control was nearly perfect. Zazen, kuji-kiri, throndu, point-contraction, mantra, mandala—he knew them all, cages for the monkey brain. But the monkey was elusive this time. And it had a larger, fiercer cousin, a beast which slept in a deep and black cave in the back of Khadaji’s mind. The monkey’s nervous chattering of doom awoke the shaggy creature. Death? It said, red eyes narrowing. No. I will fight Death and kill him! I am not ready to die. Never.
    Khadaji sighed. Too many years, too much preparation had gone into this; too much was stirred for him to calm himself now. Instead of being lulled, his mind was preternaturally alert, filled with thoughts and desires and memories. He saw quietly, but his head was full of storm; epinepherine surged through his blood and washed over his shores in pounding waves. Khadaji remembered.
    He remembered it all.

Chapter Six
    THE WOMAN EXPLODED into a shower of blood and torn flesh as the slugs from his carbine smacked into her. The look of surprise on her face, of puzzlement, touched him. She had not known she could be hurt, that she could die. It was there on her face as she fell, the amazement. Among the thousands of them charging across the harvested wheat field, Khadaji saw her face clearly. But the look was on other faces in the background. Wrong, the look said. This isn’t right, this isn’t the way it’s supposed to be, those dying expressions said—
    “Khadaji, get your quad to the left, three hundred degrees! There’s another wave coming!”
    “Jasper, Wilks, Reno, the Lojt says cover three hundred, stat!”
    “Why are they still coming, Emile?” Reno