Tattoos & Rail Guns Chapter 12: The Little Shoeshine Boy

The gargoyle dropped off the camera and flew out of the rook.

Deezle the Defiler hooked the camera up to his laptop and proceeded to watch the footage. He became visibly more upset with every frame. At the end, he had to prevent himself from smashing the camera to bits or at least tossing it through a wall. He couldn't believe what he had seen; he hadn't expected the shade to survive; it was a minor demon at best and therefore imminently expendable, but it had practically died on arrival. The soldiers could have killed it.

Worse, he received no new insight into the power of the tattooed warrior; he hadn't even broken a figurative sweat. He was unable to figure out what that one tattoo did and none of the others were all that interesting. And then there was that friggin' wizard; what was he doing there? He was aware that the Neon Caduceus was looking at new recruits, but was unaware that a friggin' wizard was among them. That was a major game-changer, especially considering the potential power; while it was effectively a new form of magic, they had not yet seen anyone actually start using magic at more than an instinctive level.

Nothing like what that kid was doing. Any idiot could create shields and bolts; wards like he was using should be beyond this world for another twenty years. If he could do that, it meant that they were adapting quicker than expected. That could be as dangerous to their mission just as it opened up a world of possibilities; he wasn't sure whether to nervous or ecstatic.

He decided that it was time to take this situation far more seriously. The tattooed warrior was no longer a primary concern; the entire squad was. He needed to take out that squad for his plans to succeed. He would need to do the one thing he didn't want to do: Partner with Lellend.

This was truly a horrible day. He must make someone hate it as much as he did.

* * * * *

Douglas was in the shower. It had been a tiring day and he was enjoying the hot water. This definitely went into the positive column. When the last of the sweat and grime had disappeared down the drain he stopped the water and dried off. When he had dressed, he reached for his boots and found a pair that weren't his. Puzzled, he pulled them closer. Inside was a thick brush, two cloths, and a tin of boot polish.

Walker was right there, waiting. He smiled. “We were beginning to wonder if you would ever leave the shower.”

Douglas smiled back. “Sorry; not a lot of showers on the trail.” He pointed to the boots. “And where's my boots?”

Walker smiled just a bit too widely for Douglas' taste. “Those old things? Unsuitable for tonight's lesson. Also, we thought you would appreciate not risking the leather on your favorite pair.”

Douglas was nervous. “Okay, so what are we doing?”

“Polishing boots. If you're serious about staying, it's part of the deal: Personal maintenance includes more than just hot showers.” Walker was smiling.

Douglas sighed. Fine, let’s play this game. “So how do we do this?”

“Take the brush and get rid of all the dirt.”

He took the brush and gave it a perfunctory brush-down, glaring at Walker the entire time. Walker seemed to gain enjoyment from his hatred and his grin became wider. “Okay, that was fun. Now what?”

“For now it's just building muscle memory. Take the tin and open it. Go grab some water in the top of the tin.”

Douglas did exactly that and came back. Walker had taken the opportunity to grab his own kit.

“Now, take the cloth, dip out some of the boot wax, and cover the boots. While you're doing that, dip the goop in the water every so often.” Walker showed him how to do it, making sure that he worked in circles on the leather.

He did precisely that. While he did it he began to appreciate the meditative value, he wasn't going to acknowledge that to his tormentor.

“Now grab the other cloth and start buffing out the boot. You may need to move it around to do it.”

Again, he did precisely that and a dull shine began to appear on the boots. Walker began to smile out of pride rather than malice, which began to feed Douglas' own confidence. Walker slammed his boot down on the bench. “Compare.” Walker's boot was a shade more shiny, but Douglas' wasn't that far behind. “Not bad. Needs some practice to get it down.” At this point the scarier smile came back. “Guess we can help with that.”

Walker reached behind him to grab an entire box of old boots. He beamed down at Douglas. Douglas just glared as Walker walked off. Douglas resigned himself to his task as he reached into the box. I am so beginning to hate this.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Sawyer and Rodriguez were getting a beer. Rodrigueze tipped a beer to his platoon leader. “Man, that test of yours was fun to watch.”

“Heh. I would have loved to be able to read Jule's mind when Kev flipped her.” She grinned form ear to ear. “That was just awesome.”

The lieutenant in question tapped her on the shoulder. “Oh, I was pretty much, 'WHAT?'. You just don't flip a powered armor suit using a judo throw. You just don't see that every day, much less experience it.”

Rodriguez grinned. “I'll bet.” He took a swig from his beer. “I did get some pretty impressive numbers from the two of them, however.”

Lieutenant Sawyer took a swig. “Good. It should be interesting to see what the data looks like.” She sipped from her beer. “We definitely need to recruit Douglas at any cost. He would be a valuable asset in the field. Also, if we find others of his kind he could help train them.”

The sergeant nodded his head. “I'll see if I can talk to HHS about assigning us some inhabited areas. I know we've been avoiding them unless they had resources to offer, but given what we're looking for it may be interesting to see what they can give us.” He sat back in his chair. “I'll work up some parameters and see if any areas match them.”

“Sounds good.” She leaned on the table. “Were you able to figure out how to build us a rail cannon?”

“I had some circuitry issues, so I ran them by a friend a couple of buildings over. She may have a fix for me by the end of the week.”

“Sounds even better. If we can get those problems worked out then the demons may be less of a problem.”

“I may have so----”

Lieutenant Prowse placed herself between the two of them. “And that's the last we'll hear of work for the rest of the evening. Tonight we're Mel, Jule, and...and...” Her brow furrowed in concentration. “What is your first name? Do you even have a first name?”

“It's Enrique..”

“Okay, so it's Mel, Jules, and Enrique. I have a pitcher of mojitos coming this way, and we shall enjoy them. We are ignoring rank for the next few hours. That's my order, and disobey under threat of severe penalties.”

Both gave a heartfelt, “Yes, sir!” The mojitos arrived forthwith and the three enjoyed the rest of the night. They did take a turn at karaoke, resulting in some of the worst singing ever (not from Enrique, who had a great bass voice, but the girls obviously never had a lesson). They didn't end the night together, however; once the pitcher ran out Jules grabbed the attention of a newly-minted butter bar and decided to show him some of the ropes. Enrique found another sergeant from one of the security companies and the two of them ended up dancing for the rest of the evening. When they finally separated she had wrangled his calling code from him and was threatening to use it.

Mel, however, decided to spend some time around the arcade. She had some steam to blow off and blowing up poor unfortunate NPCs who couldn't run out of her way fast enough was fine with her. She fell into the zone quickly enough and started racking up some impressive scores. She eventually decided to select the group mode and unleashed her anger onto the local grid. The game barely kept up with her, and so she managed to grab a lot of new kills by the end of the evening. When she had finally had enough, she logged out and went to grab a large drink of some preferably unknown recipe with a lot of alcohol in it.

When she was ordering her something she heard another woman crying at the bar and she had to ask how she was doing. She regretted as quickly as she did it. The woman had been dumped by her boyfriend and needed some attention. This of course meant that she would keep an eye on the woman, who turned out to be a captain, for a little while.

“He was a total ass. I can't believe that I fell for him!”

“Some guys are not meant to date women.”

“This was definitely one of those men. If I knew then what I know now....” She fell out of her chair.

Mel helped her up and back into the chair. “Maybe we should walk you back to your room?”

“I just need a few more drinks.” She smiled as she saw a couple of young officers. “And maybe some of that!”

Mel shook her head. “Not just yet. Let's go walk this off.” Mel forced her off her chair. “Which barracks is yours?”

“I am the great Captain Barbara Dorab! Do I look like enlisted?”

Mel's mind quickly flashed on who she was. She was a pilot, one that had faced a number of flying demons and was one of the few certified heroes of the base. She also had a reputation for her long string of romances that never seemed to work out. But she had looked so normal!

“Nope. But I'm sure if you told me where your billet was I could help you there.”

“Fine. No men here, anyway!”

The two left. After a couple of missteps and one “mission” into a snack bar, Mel finally got her to her billet. She hoped this was the last time she would hear from her. She swore that she would never go to that bar again! At least, not as long as Captain Dorab was a frequent customer.

[The last chapter is here. The next chapter is here.]