‘battle’ boots on under the dress, down on my foot. Despite how it tore through my sore throat, I cried out and hopped away. DJ ran for the dying elf. As she approached an anger that brought with it strength filled the elf’s eyes. He raised his head and the dagger.
I was the truest workaholic that ever had been. When I wasn’t actually fighting monsters, I was practicing; thousand upon thousand of hours of collected over the course of a life, and at moments like that it paid off. In the blink of an eye I drew my zoom stick from its sheath, flipped it open, and threw without charging its tazer. My custom boomerang swept between DJ’s feet and sent her tumbling down a yard short of the elf’s blade. Before my next blink, I had the macdaddy drawn, cocked, and aimed.
“No!” DJ shouted and leapt between me and my foe. The gun went off and I very nearly shot her, being only just able to avert my aim at the last possible moment.
DJ stood heaving breath and glaring at me. “Please, Jazz. No more.”
She’d never glared at me before.
I huffed out a big ball of tension in an exhale then holstered the gun. “Fine.”
The roar of a pair of Avi-star thrusters sent the angry forest back to a cowardly sleep. Ship appeared overhead. From this angle his yellow and black striped body looked more like a flying forklift than a sleek fighting flycraft. Ship set down as gently as a falling leaf, setting several small pine-needle fires. He was never as cautious as I tried to be.
“DJ,” I pointed and together we stomped the fires out. If Earth ever did return, it would need its forests.
With a clunk of latches and a hiss of air, Ship raised his canopy. “Don’t dilly dally gals, I don’t like this place a bit. Trees give me the heebie-jeebies—I’m a city demon.”
I tossed my helmet inside the cockpit and sat inside. DJ walked to the little storage hatch in the aft of Ship.
“No, DJ. Not this trip.”
DJ stopped and shot me a crooked stare. “Ship’s a one-seater, we won’t both fit.”
I reached beneath my seat, digging around for the little hidden compartment.
“Stop, stop that, it tickles,” Ship said.
“Can it, tin-head. You don’t feel anything anymore. Ah-ha,” I said and sat back. I held up a soup can sized cylinder. “Been saving this for a long time.” A stream of light shone on it though a break in the trees.
“Is that what I think it is?” DJ asked with gobs of trepidation in her voice.
“Well that depends on if you thinks it’s a highly illegal sub-compact single location trans-sender or not, because it most definitely is,” Ship said. “And your wacky boss has no idea how lucky she is that the Enforcer-Corps hadn’t found it while I was in impound.”
“Yes, thank you for spoiling the surprise, Ship.”
“You’re welcome, jack-ass,” Ship said.
“Here, this will take you straight to Uncle’s,” I said handing it to DJ.
DJ took it very gently, as if it were sticks of old, sweaty dynamite. Then she held it up to her eyes and examined it as if it were precious. “Wow. I’d read about these in cyber-school. Humans were using them during the first resistance movement. I’d heard the wizard’s council destroyed them all.”
“All but one,” I said and a tiny bit of pride may have slipped though my defenses. We’d come pretty close to victory in that movement. We who survived paid a heavy price for failure.
“But where are you going?” DJ asked.
“To Uncle’s. But the soup can there won’t carry two. Besides, I have to make sure Ship doesn’t make a break for the deep space portal.”
“Ahh, freedom, why do you taunt me so?” Ship said in big voice despite the broken speaker.
“Yeah, yeah, my heart’s breaking, you drama queen,” I said and hit the mute button. Then I held a finger up to my jacket and Moxie flew out and perched there, beaming a huge smile up at me. “Moxie,” I said although she probably couldn’t understand a word of it. “I want you to go with DJ.”
Okay, she must have at least caught my drift, because she crossed her arms, curled out her lips, and shook her head, sending her blond curls and her proportionately ample breasts bouncing, Moxie liked to go, ‘au naturale.’ Whenever she pouted she looked a lot like a miniature Mae West.
“Moxie, if you really love me, you’ll do as I say. I promise to come back for you as soon as I can,” I said well knowing I wouldn’t live to keep my promise.
“Come on, Moxie, come with me and we can have girl time,” DJ said.
Moxie stuck her nose in the air and shook her head harder.
“We can stare at pictures of Jazz while we wait,” DJ said.
Moxie cracked open one eye and looked at DJ.
DJ tried, and failed, to hide the pain in her expression. “And I’ll let you sing all your favorite Karaoke love songs.”
Moxie opened both eyes and watched as DJ nodded encouragingly. Then she hung her head and, on wings keeping an unenthusiastic tempo, fluttered over and disappeared in the folds of DJ’s dress.
“Thank you,” I said. DJ smiled a said little smile, but I could still see the doubt, as well as the disappointment, in her eyes.
“Go on, use it,” I said. “It’s perfectly safe. Get changed and get my street cycle prepped. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”
DJ teethed her lower lip like a kid trying to resist opening her birthday presents a day early. “But won’t the wizard’s council detect the rift opening?”
“Nah,” I said as I slipped on my leather flight cap. “That thing runs on a battery, not mallow. It’s detection proof.”
“Hey, you said that to Mananama, battery, what is that?”
I buckled the flight cap’s chin strap and started Ship’s engines. “I’ll explain later. Now off you pop.”
DJ nodded; she’d follow my orders, but the look in her eyes—disappointment? Disgust? Whatever it was it hurt a lot more than the tree’s choke hold. She pressed the big red button on the top of the cylinder and, with a loud pop of pressurized air, disappeared. I hit the button. As Ship’s canopy slid down into closed position I lifted us off. As soon as we cleared the trees I spun us in the direction of the between lands and poured on some speed. I didn’t have a minute to waste. I miss-adjusted ships deeter crystal/air mix and hit the mute.
“Oh for goodness sake. Are we going to fly all the way back to Nitsburg shaking and throwing all that smoke?” Ship said with the purest revulsion I’d ever heard anyone express.
“Hopefully not all the way.”
“Well thank evil for small favors.”
“Yeah, I’m hoping the Cranks find us straight away.”
“The Cranks!” Ship squealed as much as the broken speaker would allow. “You’re crazy! The Cranks nearly killed us last time, you fool! No, I simply won’t have it. Give me the controls, just because you’re dying doesn’t mean that I have too!”
I hit the mute switch.
…to be continued.
-Next Time-
The elves granted Jazz a temporary respite from the agony of the Not Now Stone right before she killed them all, but that didn’t do a thing to slow her oncoming death. Jazz refuses to check out while her arch nemesis still flies the Mirthen sky, so she pilots Ship into the heart of Crank territory looking to pick a fight. And a fight is what she gets; she just didn’t expect Toerang, leader of the elite Crank squadron, the Kriskrossa, to bring so many friends. And all Jazz has is her sentient flycraft, who happens to hate her.
Jazz, Monster Collector, Episode 14, Dogfight
Watch for it at your favorite retailer, Jazz Fan
I hope you’ve enjoyed this Jazz adventure.
If you’d like to learn more about the monster collector, or me and my other works, please visit:
www.RyFTBrand.com
Ranting at www.RyftsRants.com
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