Payment to Perdition Read online

  Cold Cosmos

  Book Two: Payment To Perdition

  James Peters

  Copyright © 2020

  James Peters and Black Swan Productions

  Cover Artwork:

  “Cold Cosmos Payment to Perdition”

  By Ali Hyder Bhujwala

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  This book is dedicated to the dreamers, the people who yearn for excitement and have a sense of wonder, and root for the hero to save the day.

  The vision I have for Cold Cosmos is to create a series of epic stories, where one man brings a sense of humanity to a galaxy lacking in forces for good. Sure, he’ll stumble along the way and have massive setbacks, make friends and enemies along the way, and do things that will test his character. He’ll change, for better and for worse, and by telling this tale in first person format, I want the reader to feel connected to my character, as if they are hearing the story directly from him while sharing a whiskey.

  My goal is to entertain you with action, humor, drama and all the elements that make for great space opera style science fiction.

  I hope you enjoy this story and wish you all the best!

  James Peters

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to the people who have helped me create this vision.

  My wife, Lorinda, for supporting my writing career and believing in me. I’d also like to thank the friends who provide beta reading feedback, and anyone kind enough to leave a review.

  Additionally, would be remiss if I didn’t mention my cover artist, Ali Hyder. I can send him a very poorly drawn stick-figure outline of a cover idea and some random inspirational images, and he, along with Mario, and Arisha can created an amazing cover. Seriously, take a moment to appreciate the artistry of that cover!

  The Story So Far…

  For anyone who hasn’t read book one yet, or if it has been a while, this section provides a brief summary of the events that have taken place.

  On September 3rd, 1895, Idiom Lee was riding his horse Leroy toward the Rusty Anvil, not far from Goodpasture, Colorado. His journey was interrupted by the sound of a woman’s scream, which he followed to find a strange, bear-like creature set to attack. Poor Leroy falls prey to the beast, but Idiom was able to get a rifle shot into the creature’s shoulder, driving it away. Idiom proceeds to his destination on foot to learn there have been others telling tales of a strange creature in the area sounding a lot like what attacked him.

  Douglas Krenshaw, a powerful rancher in the area, lost cows and a ranch-hand to the beast, so he contracted with Idiom, a pair of low-budget bounty hunters, and a big Mexican in Krenshaw’s employment to track down and kill the creature. Following the tracks, they find a pretty woman named Ginn, dressed as an Indian maiden. The Mexican has bad intentions toward her, so Idiom put him down with a .45 slug through the skull.

  The bounty hunters run back to Krenshaw, while Idiom and Ginn work together to escape. But with the help of a Cherokee guide, Krenshaw and his men caught up to the running pair, and inform Idiom that he is, in fact, traveling with a Skinwalker; a creature able to change form similar to a werewolf. Before Krenshaw’s men attack, Ginn informs Idiom she had called for assistance. That assistance comes in the form of a spaceship landing in the area, scaring off the remaining members of Krenshaw’s gang. But not before Ginn turns into the beast right before Idiom’s eyes, and Idiom gets hit by several bullets. As Idiom’s life faded away, Ginn, in beast form, carried him onto her spaceship known as “Sarge”.

  Idiom awakes alive and indebted on a moving asteroid knows as Panadaras, where he meets Ginn’s partner, a six-limbed sloth-cat creature he calls Slowhand. They have a plan for Idiom to pay off his debt: he needs to capture and turn in a Shade named Rhuldan to the Migrun, the militaristic, bird-like creatures that are more-or-less in charge. But instead of feeling impending doom when he meets Rhuldan, they shared a sense of trust, so Idiom changed the plan, and they escaped into the underworld of Panadaras controlled by the Grinkun, who are biped possum-like creatures who mine the asteroid. Fayye, the brood mother’s daughter has a mission for Idiom and Rhuldan to undertake: Work with a group of privateers to recover a large load of Element Zero, stolen from the Grinkun by the Migrun.

  An explosion destroyed the privateers and their ship, with the exception of Jekto, a six-limbed rhinoceros type creature with a golden horn who served as the enforcer and loot carrier for the privateers.

  Idiom, Ginn, Slowhand, Rhuldan and Jekto team up for Fayye’s mission, with the promise of a payday that would solve all their problems. Fayye joins them as well to infiltrate the only refining base capable of handling so much Element Zero. Idiom stumbles upon a threat to everything, as a group of Dracnarians (squid-faced creatures with a snails foot to move them about) want to use the Element Zero to start a chain reaction that will return the universe to a state of nothingness just before the Big Bang.

  After a bloody and epic battle, Idiom and the crew escaped with a sphere of pure Element Zero and a substantial treasure, but their ship is damaged, causing them to land on a primitive planet. Idiom gets the sense that Fayye is about to double cross them all, so he pulls a switch and hides the Element Zero in an underground spring. Sure enough, Fayye does double-cross them, and escapes with what she thought was her prize. But, in reality, it’s nothing more than one of Jekto’s perfectly round and rock-hard turds painted black. Idiom tries to get the group to stick together as a team, but all the others laugh at his attempt and they all go their separate ways.

  This novel picks up about six months after the events of the first book…

  CHAPTER One

  Idiom

  Dozens of distinct conversations spoken by alien tongues filled the air in the bar, while a smell like sulfur mixed with peppermint tickled my nose. I carefully laid my cards facedown and sipped my ionic blaster. The alcoholic warmth of the liquid burned my mouth and throat as I studied the Helodermian sitting directly across the table from me. His yellow and black neck scales flexed slowly as he breathed, and four of his eight eyes focused on the cards in his hand, while his two left-most eyes tried to get a glimpse of the cards held by the flatworm next to him. His remaining two eyes stared at me as if he were deciding if I was to become his next meal, or if I would be tough to chew with his pointed, cat-like teeth.

  If you’ve never seen a Helodermian, it’s something you might get if you grew a Gila Monster to the size of a person, added six eyes, taught him how to walk upright, then dressed him in a glossy ceramic space suit that fit a touch too tight. At least that’s why I figured he was always in a foul mood; his suit was too small and crushing his knots. This fella’s name was Waukoon, and it was his turn to call or fold. His tell was his breathing: When it was slow, like it was now, that meant he had a good hand.

  “Call,” Waukoon said, flicking his thin and long black tongue in the air as if he were tasting something. I figured he could smell fear or lies, but I couldn’t say for sure.

  The Skettan to my left had already folded, leaning its fat face into a feathered hand as it sipped its own drink through a long straw. That one I called Bill, because I couldn’t come close to pronouncing his long, trilling name, and well, he had a bill like a duck. Opposite Bill sat a green flatworm as large as a herding dog. I didn’t catch his name, probably because he didn’t speak. He wore a device above the thickest part of his body that displayed in words his intentions. The screen read
“Call.”

  The bet came to me, and I was looking at a nice pot of credits. Enough to set me up for several months of rent and grub, if I were careful with it, and assuming, of course, I won it. “I call.”

  Waukoon played his cards one at a time, as if displaying each one would crush the spirits of the remaining players. He laid out the King of Darkness, the King of Light, the King of Blood, the King of Transparency, and the Lord of Light. The flatworm’s color paled and his display read “Damn.”

  “Well, that’s a fine hand you got there,” I said as I lowered my hand just low enough it was out of sight of the table. “Dang, son, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a hand that good in Vekolb!”

  Waukoon reached two sharp claws out toward the pile of credits and began raking them in.

  I continued, “Why, if my understanding of this game is correct and proper, I can only think of one hand that would beat that. Help me out here, Waukoon, what would that hand have to be?”

  Waukoon hissed. “You’d need all four usurping Knaves and the Lord of Darkness.”

  “Any chance that might look something like this?” I tossed my cards on the table as if I hadn’t a care in the cosmos. The hand looked exactly as described, thanks to just a little finesse on my part and the hidden pocket up my sleeve.

  “That’s impossible!” Waukoon shouted and reached a claw back toward his blaster strapped to his side.

  Before he could reach his weapon, I had both Colts drawn and pointed at his ugly, lizard face. “Don’t make me shoot you. Bartender Froggy over there charges me for every patron I shoot. But, considering he also gives me a commission for every fight I stop, this entire transaction could become complicated.”

  “It’s true,” the frog-faced bartender croaked.

  “It wouldn’t be the first time,” Bill added.

  Why, I oughta’ buy Bill a drink. In fact, I’d better buy a round for the table. “You know the rules in here. You start a fight, and it’s my duty as the pub’s bouncer to put you out of here. Now it’s my choice if I do that with my fists or my guns.”

  Waukoon moved his claws away from his weapons. “I claim the right to inspect your cards.”

  “By all means,” I said, pushing my winning hand toward him.

  He studied the cards, front and back, scanning them under a purple light emitted from the chest of his suit. “Hmm. They’re all from the same series. I swear to you now, Idiom, if I catch you cheating, I’ll kill you.”

  “If you caught me cheating, I’d deserve it.” I raked in the credits and called to Froggy, “A round of drinks for the table on me.”

  Froggy nodded an acknowledgment and poured our drinks, setting them on a tray for his serving girl, Atheniana, to bring them to us. She was an Aquarian and real pleasant to the eye for a homesick human. She was a little taller and bluer than an Earth woman, and she had some thin gills on her neck, but for the most part, she had the right pieces in the right places for us to be compatible. She brought the drinks to us, spread them out, and planted a twin-tongued kiss on my lips as she sat on my lap. “Are you nearly done, Idiom?”

  “One more round.”

  Atheniana pouted and pushed back my hat to drag her long, dexterous fingers through my hair as she stood to walk away. “Don’t make me wait too long.”

  “You gentlemen heard the lady. One more hand and let’s make it quick.” I folded early that time and found my Aquarian friend waiting for me in my bunk in the back room I rented from Froggy. She had the flexibility of a contortionist, and because I’m a gentleman, that’s all I’m saying about the matter.

  I’d been on Panadaras for about six months, and all in all, I’d settled in fairly well. I had a safe place to sleep and food in my belly, drinks to warm me, and a few friends. I’d made enough to pay a green-skinned, yellow-furred monkey to make the video of me with Rhuldan fighting off the Migrun in this very bar disappear from all official records. I learned that around here, alien faces are many and memories without electronic assistance are poor.

  I worked my way through the Grinkun tunnels to the closest thing to a blacksmith I’d found on this rock. I’d found a talented fellow by the name of Klungah here. He was Torreen; a species friendly with the Grinkun, probably because they had similar features and were perhaps a distant offshoot of the same species. His face had more of a cow’s features than a possum’s, but he was about the same size as a typical Grinkun, and he had two big, silver dollar sized hazel eyes. His skin looked more like tanned leather than fur.

  Klungah saw me coming and waved me over with an exaggerated motion. “Come, Idiom, I have good news!”

  I tipped the front of my hat down just a fraction of an inch. “Just what I’d hoped to hear. I’m running low.”

  Klungah retrieved a blue fabric pouch from behind the counter. He loosened the yellow drawstring holding the top closed and dumped out my prize. Twelve shiny bullets rattled across a metal workbench. Four of them had been marked with a green stripe, another four had a yellow marking, and the remainder were painted completely red. He grabbed the red ones and set them aside, separate from the others.

  “What’s with the colors?” I asked.

  “Since you weren’t willing to let me determine the strength of the metals in your weapon, I couldn’t be certain how much power it could handle.”

  I smirked at him. “You wanted to melt down one of my Colts to test its construction. That was not going to happen.”

  “I assure you I could have re-forged it and made some improvements, but you weren’t willing to trust me. Start with the green ones. They should have similar properties to that primitive powder you’ve been using. If they aren’t quite what you need, then try the yellow.”

  “What about the reds?”

  Klungah squinted his big eyes tightly at me. “I shouldn’t have shown you those. They were, let’s just say, experimental.”

  I found myself really wanting to get my hands on the red bullets. “What’s special about them?”

  “Hybrid drive system.”

  “And that means to me?”

  “By my calculations, I didn’t think it was safe to use any more catalyst than what I put in the yellow rounds. The reds are like the yellows, but with an extra kick.”

  “Right. I’ll save the reds for emergencies, but they’re coming with me. Do you have everything you need to make more? Say I want to buy a hundred of each, could you make them?”

  “Of course. These are easy. The propellant is a gel I could make in my sleep, and I’ve made molds to recreate the cases and the projectile. Oh, yeah, I didn’t use lead as I don’t like working with it. Too hazardous for my people.”

  I shrugged. “I’ve got no particular love for lead. These things do shine more than a typical bullet. What is it?”

  “A copper and tungsten alloy. Should be sufficiently lethal. Try them out and let me know which ones you want more of. Now, for my payment.”

  “We agreed to five credits each.”

  “Yes, we did, so that would be sixty credits in total. Of course, I did go a little beyond the original scope with the reds.”

  I pulled four twenty-five trilatinum credit coins from my pocket. Before I placed them in his leathery hand, I said, “Here’s a little extra. Let’s keep this our secret, understood?”

  “Our secret. Besides, I don’t know anyone else who’d be interested in these.”

  “Great. Let’s keep it that way.” I had that uncomfortable feeling we weren’t alone, as if something had slipped into the shadow behind me. I squinted my eyes and began to turn around, when I felt a sharp claw tap me on the shoulder. I jumped just a little and reached for my Colts.

  CHAPTER Two

  Slowhand

  A six-limbed, mottle-furred mixture of sloth and cat standing on its back feet greeted me. I recognized Slowhand immediately, though I can’t say I was glad to see him. I would’ve probably felt more comfortable if he’d been some horrific alien beast trying to eat my face. As usual, he spoke
like he thought himself a king talking down to a peasant. “Oh, I love a good secret. Oftentimes, they are worth real trilatinum.” I pushed his claw off my shoulder and stuffed the rounds into my pocket. He continued, “It doesn’t surprise me to find you here. The stench in the air reminds me of your home planet. It took days to get Sarge’s filters cleared of that odor.”

  I felt my muscles tightening through my body. I wasn’t fearful of him, although I knew his claws could be lethal. I just knew I couldn’t trust him. If Slowhand had taught me anything, it’s that he was only out for his own interests and possessed no sense of loyalty. Him being here meant either he’d been trailing me, or had some need of my smithy friend, and I sincerely doubted the latter. “It’s been a while, Slowhand. Can’t say I’ve missed you. Do you have business with Klungah?”

  A look of disgust crossed his face. “Of course not. I have no interest in the archaic novelties he fashions.”

  I crossed my arms. “Then I have to figure you want something of me. Keep in mind our accounts are settled up, buddy. Don’t come complaining because I won some credits back from you on the return trip.”

  “While I’m certain you cheated, I couldn’t prove anything at the time. In any case, I also cheated, just not as well as you did. That’s not why I’m here, Idiom. Walk with me. It’s urgent we speak privately.” He headed off toward a dark hallway.

  I watched him walk away, not wanting to follow him. Just before he disappeared into the shadow, my curiosity got the better of me. I sighed and trotted after him into a storage room filled with Grinkun cleaning supplies and a single light hanging from the ceiling. “Now you have me here. What do you want?”

  He closed the door behind us, lowered his head, and made a face as if he were disgusted at what he had to say next. “I need your help.”

  “Allow me to remind you of what happened when I suggested we stick together as a team? You laughed and said no.” I crossed my arms. “So it pleases me to no end to tell you no.”