The Man Who Never Missed Read Free

too far, Bork, Sleel or Dirisha would be there to stop it. It was difficult to argue with a man holding you a half-meter off the floor, or a woman who could break three ribs with a flat punch. There was very little trouble in the Jade Flower.
    “Ho, Emile, how’s it hanging?”
    Khadaji looked to his right, to see Lojtnant Subru, smoking a flickstick. The man’s dark face was almost hidden behind the cloud of purple-black smoke.
    “To the left, Subbie, just like always.” He grinned. “How’s the ratface job?”
    Lojtnant Subru shook his head and exhaled a fragrant blast of flickstick smoke. The smell of hot cashews surrounded Khadaji. “Busy today, Emile. Word is there were several skirmishes within fifty klicks of town.”
    Khadaji raised an eyebrow and tried to look surprised. “Really? Get any of the Scum?”
    The dark soldier nodded. “Body count of fourteen, I heard. They nicked one of ours in a blastfight, but she’s okay.”
    Khadaji didn’t have to work very hard to suppress his smile. He’d heard this kind of statistic too many times. “Good for the troops.”
    “Yeah, we should have the Scum cleaned out pretty soon. Only problem is, I hear 1C has upped their estimates of the numbers. Even with the ones we’ve been cutting down, 1C says there are close to a thousand guerrillas in the field now.”
    Khadaji shook his head. “Where are they coming from?”
    “IC would love to know. I hear the Old Man would give his left nut and a kilogram of bauxite to be able to spike the leaders.” He took another blast from the flickstick. “You ever do any ratface-time, Emile?”
    Khadaji smiled. “Sure. I did my tour sitting planet and pushing disks for a supply unit. Strictly button-thumbing stats, Subbie. Never saw action.”
    “Yeah? What unit?”
    “14-788 Quartermasters, on Tomodachi. Been a few years.” The unit was real enough, Khadaji had known men who served in it while he was training, but in fact his own unit had been the 14-433 Jumptroop Plex and he’d seen more action than most of the soldiers on this world. Too much.
    The Lojtnant nodded, not really interested. He looked around for a table with an empty stool. “Emile, who’s working the sheets tonight? Anybody worth a week’s pay?”
    “Marj is on, Brin, Roj, Davisito, and… let’s see, I think Sister Clamp is on at 1800.”
    “Sister Clamp, huh? I heard she’s something else. Expensive, too.”
    “You can’t take it with you, Subbie. Never know but you might get pulled out of that air-conditioned T-plex and put on the line.”
    “Shee-it, they’ll have to be scraping the walls for that. Still, I might get flattened by a ground-effect tank crossing the street. Eighteen, you said?”
    “I can put in a word, if you like, maybe get her to give you an uprank discount.”
    Lojtnant Subru nodded again. “Yeah. Do that, would you? I’d appreciate it.”
    The soldier wandered off, trailing the smell of cashews.
    “Afternoo’, Chief.”
    Khadaji’s head pubtender stood there, looking grave.
    “Butch. A problem?”
    “We runnin’ low on mid-range sops. Las’ week’s delivery was short two gross and we only got half what we need ‘til next shipment.”
    “What do you think, Butch?”
    “I think we put a limit on and ration them suckers out.”
    Khadaji shook his head. “No. Business as usual and when we run out, offer high-range at the same price.”
    “Jeet, Chief, we lose half a stad every tab!”
    “We can afford it, can’t we? We want to keep the customers happy.”
    Butch shook his head. “I don’ see how you make an’ profit, you keep tryin’ to give it away.”
    “We get by, Butch, we get by.”
    The pubtender left, looking even more grave than before, and Khadaji began to work his way around the octagon, smiling at the customers, listening and watching as he moved.
    “—holes Uplevels wouldn’t know a Scum if it peed on—”
    “—said she’s more fucking sensitive than I am—” “—Jammy’s still