Splintered Reality - part fourteen

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Rick Sirrelli’s laughter seemed to fill the large space that contained his office. It was obvious to look at him that it was a bit forced, even if it was well practiced. The laughter seemed honed by years of effort using it to humiliate people which – in this case – didn’t work.

“You…he gasped….want…he gasped….to meet Charles Dau’Fin? Wait, he said, gasping for air again, let me guess, you are going to race him in….he gasped….in what? That garbage scow you call a ship? What makes you think you think he would have any interest in meeting someone like you!”

The considerable girth of Sirrelli’s sides heaved again, but eventually he “caught” his breath. There was a long silence while he waited for a reply to his well timed “mirth” -filled only by a menacing stare from gunny and a callous disregard for anything Sirrelli had said so far by Brighde. Once this silence had gone on long enough for Sirrelli to start getting irritated, Brighde continued.

“You,” she said in a measured, calm and quiet tone, “obviously think there is something that Charles Dau’fin wants that I have, or I wouldn’t be here.”

The smile that quickly disappeared from Richard Sirrelli’s face seemed to suddenly reappear on Gunny’s face. Only in her case it seemed a bit more wicked. Gunny reached over her right shoulder with her left arm. She deftly flipped open the lid of a long tub she had slung over her back and removed it’s contents. Gunny tossed the rolled and bound sheets of paper at Sirrelli as if they were a spear. They slid across the expanse of his desk and into his belly. Sirrelli sat there for a moment, pondering the long rolled tube of paper. The paper had a blueish tint to it. Nervously he undid the clasp and unrolled the documents on his desk, they were covered in minute notations, interspersed with electronic circuits. He flipped through the documents.

“…and just what is this,” he asked.

Sirrelli knew very well what it must be. For the first time in his life, he had a hard time playing the game he played so well – playing people.

“What do you think it is fat man?,” Gunny shot back at him. She started to add another comment but Brighde held up a hand stopping her.

“If you wanted the capacitor from my old ship, you didn’t have to try and kill me for it. All you had to do was ask.”

Sirrelli gave Brighde his best “shocked look.” “I never…” He began.

“Give it a rest” said Brighde matter-of-factly.

With that she reached into a bag she had at her side. She skipped a silver disk across his desk as if she were skipping it across a pond.

“Interesting viewing that, she continued, two features. The first one is of a recent mercenary attack on an osprey class mining ship. You note that the security video stops when it is knocked off line by shrapnel from the exploding mercenary ship. The second feature is concord police video from gate cameras. A fine view of someone I know very well being blown out of space….it’s me…or rather original me as people seem to be so fond of reminding me.”

“So if I had just asked you for the plans and specs for the capacitor before? You would have just given them to me?”

“No,” replied Brighde calmly, “but dieing has a way of changing one’s outlook on life.”

“So the knock-off copy has lost the nerve of the original,” Sirrelli shot back at Brighde with a wicked grin.

If he had counted on his reputation, or Brighde’s changed outlook to protect him, neither did so. With a surprising swiftness that belied her size, Gunny was up and over the desk in a moment – a moment later, Sirrelli found himself staring down the length of a rather nasty looking stiletto – the end of which was held well up his nose.

Years of nefarious activities gave Sirrelli reactions which allowed him to remain calm under such situations. However, he also knew that it was unwise to further irritate a woman he already knew to have a short fuse, who currently held 12 inches of razor edged steel pointed up his nose.

“That wasn’t a very nice thing to say,” said Brighde with a smile. “The “knock off copy” as you so rudely put it, is different from the original. The original Brighde would have let Gunny take out your appendix through your nose.”

Brighde paused just long enough to make Sirrelli wonder if she was any different.

“But as I said, death has a way of changing you. Making you realize what is important in life.”

Brighde looked over at Gunny.

“It’s ok Gunny. Really.”

Reluctantly Gunny removed the knife from Sirrelli’s left nostril and slid it back into her boot sheath. Sirrelli noticed, however, that she did not resume her former position on the other side of his desk. Instead she made sure she stood just off his left shoulder, within arms length of his nose.

“So that’s it?” Sirrelli asked, “Your just going to give the blueprints to the capacitor to me?”

“Not exactly,” replied Brighde. “You’ll notice that one page is missing – a crucial page.”

“without which, I assume,” Sirrelli added, “ the capacitor is about as useful as an extremely expensive door stop?”

Brighde just smiled.

Rick Sirrelli reached over and pressed a small section on the edge of his desk. Two small posts slid up in the middle of his desk and emitted a cross section of laser beams that formed a key board. He began pounding away on the keys, with a practiced efficiency that said he wasn’t always in the line of work that he is in now.

“I am sending a message to Charles Dau’fin telling him you have a ship that I think can beat him in the next Great Circuit race.” Sirrelli said.

“I have no desire whatsoever to…” Brighde began, but was promptly cut off.

“You and your…here Sirrelli cleared his throat…acquaintance know how to pique my interest, and I KNOW how to pique Dau’fin’s interest.”