Read Online Mapped Space 1: The Antaran Codex by Stephen Renneberg - Free Book Online

feigning fear, raising
my hands as if to protect my face while offering him my head on a plate. He
took the bait, throwing the punch with enough force to crush bone if it connected.
Halfway through delivering his slow motion pile driver, I darted forward,
slipped effortlessly under his trunk-like arm and drove a hard, precise punch
into his lower abdomen. My blow had half the power of Jawbones’ haymaker, but I
hit my target precisely while his bulging arm flailed uselessly through the
air.
    Jawbones coughed, unable to
breath, then took a step forward and swung his other arm wildly at me, ignoring
the pain. He might have been a lumbering elephant, but he was tough. Most opponents
would have been on their knees, gasping for air, not coming back for more. He
pivoted off his trailing foot as his fist chased me, so I kicked his advancing leg
just enough to throw him off balance and send his second pile driver sailing
over my head. Before he knew what was happening, I spun and snap-kicked him in
the groin with the same foot that had taken out his leg. Jawbones doubled over,
his forehead begging for an elbow strike that would have finished him, but my sniffer
was flashing a warning that Scarface had shifted position and was now behind me.
    Ignoring Jawbones’ gift coup de grace , I rolled away from the
crippled muscle-job, expecting to see a dart flash over my head, but Scarface
was marginally smarter than his bonehead partner. He held fire, anticipating my
roll, firing only as I came to my feet.
    For a muscle-job, his timing was
almost perfect.
    The dart caught me below the
collar bone. I ripped it out fast, but my left shoulder and arm were already useless.
Whatever the dart was loaded with, it was strong stuff – and fast acting! I
glanced at the open gate leading to the Silver
Lining , already certain I wouldn’t make it.
    Suddenly, my head swam and my
legs turned to jelly. Genetically resequenced balance or not, I stumbled and
was out before I hit the floor.

 
    * * * *

 
    I awoke in an office, lavishly decorated in
an ancient nautical theme. Pictures of old sailing ships adorned the walls
above intricately detailed models of Spanish galleons in transparent vacuum
cases. A marlin was mounted on one wall behind a polished mahogany desk and, even
though they’d been extinct for eighteen hundred years, it looked real. Most
impressive of all was the wall sized mural to my right, depicting an ancient
sea battle that was more a chaotic melee than a fleet action. From the way
light reflected off the brush strokes, it appeared to be an actual painting
rather than a projection.
    “It’s an original,” a smooth,
Hispanic voice said behind me.
    Pressure fields secured my wrists
and ankles to a brown leather chair, telling me this wasn’t the first time
guests had been entertained in this way. “Looks stolen.”
    A well dressed man in his early
fifties strolled into my line of sight. He had slick black hair, a neatly
groomed triangular beard and wore a single sparkling diamond in his left ear. Even
more ostentatious diamonds adorned his fingers.
    “It’s called the Battle of the Albrolhos ,” he said. “The
Spanish and Portuguese defeated the Dutch off the coast of Brazil in 1631. An
ancestor of mine commanded a ship there.” He approached the mural, studying it
closely before pointing. “I believe it was that one. Later, he become a
Captain-General in the Spanish Empire.”
    “Impressive,” I said, blinking
away the drumbeat in my head.
    “Not really. Phillip IV later
executed him for treason.” The man shrugged. “Every great family has a black
sheep.”
    He was obviously the wealthy
individual Sarat had been waiting for. He looked like a cross between a synth -dealer and an aristocratic art collector. I scanned
and locked him immediately, but his DNA didn’t show up on the Orion Arm’s most
wanted list. My sniffer told me there were two more signatures behind me, the
same two who’d tagged me outside the