Primalbot: back to Char Sara. Where a certain marshal is waiting.

Hopefulythiswork: YES I WILL.


Betrayal come's in the unlikeliest places.

John inhaled the smell of tobacco, and other smoke, and spilled alcohol as if it were a fine perfume. This was the smell of Wicked Waynes's, and it always made him smile. Big Eddie beamed and ushered them in, cheerfully accepting his tip, and John felt a smile stretching his own face as he looked around.

If there was any place in this sector he felt he could call home, this was it. Peace settled on him as he and Cassidy entered, placed their drink orders with the ever-efficient and lovely sister, and took their usual seats. Over in a corner, a live band was performing tonight.

"Where's Daisy? John asked as he lifted his drink in salute to one of the bouncers, who was currently sitting in front of the stage next to nothing.

"She's busy. Guess I gotta find my own amusement, "Cassidy said. He sat and watched the girls perform and drained his whiskeys in comfortable silence.

Every time scanned the bar, he found it mysteriously empty. He kept looking for hidden threats. He found one: a tiny little detail that a normal person would miss. That's there are barely any customers. It made him suspicious. As a feeling was telling him something wasn't right with this picture-usually he saw several dozen customers in advance-but he kept assuring himself that just as soon as he had a break, it'll be all go away. Besides using his psionic here might not be a good idea.

Cassidy slammed his glass down with a grunt. "Time to go liberate some credits from some poor unfortunate souls," he said. "You care to join me, John?"

John was pretty comfortable right where he was, but the idea did have merit. He had learned to play poker with Cassidy. Or rather, he had learned initially how to lose every payday. But by observing his compatriot, he'd learned how to recognize "tells." And by stubbornly refusing to quit, he'd learned the game well.

His sister was going to be here for a while. Why not accompany Cassidy in the meantime? "Sure," John said, rising and grinning at his friend.

Four games later, there were three faces at the table that registered varying expressions of glum, sullen, and pissed off, and two that were rather pleased-looking. Cassidy's pile was a bit larger than John's but the former Nazim had done pretty well for himself. And the night was young.

Cassidy ground out his stogie and grinned wolfishly at the three losers. "Who's up for another game?"

One of them, an older man with graying hair, simply shook his head, pushed his chair back, and went to the bar, presumably to see if his sister was in the mood to extend credit, as John was pretty sure they'd cleaned him out. The other two nodded.

"I want to get that money back," said one.

"I don't know how you cheated, but I'm sure you did," growled the other.

Cassidy just grinned. The funny thing about all this was, surprisingly enough, Cassidy actually didn't cheat. He just knew how to read people very, very well.

"I think," came a feminine voice, "that Mr. Cassidy is going to have to sit this handout. And maybe a few more after that."

John and Jessie glanced up to see Daisy slipping her arms over Cassidy's shoulders. "That does sound mighty tempting," Jessie drawled, "but I'm on a winning streak right now, honey."

"That you are," Daisy replied. "Wait till you see what I got in store for you."

Cassidy searched her eyes for a moment, then grinned. "Wouldn't be a man if I turned that down," he said, shoving his pile over to John. "Here you go, Johnny. Try not to lose it all on the first hand, all right?"

"I'll do the best I can, friend Jessie," John promised.


Daisy was not a small girl, but compared to Cassidy, giantesses would look petite. Her hand was completely engulfed in his larger one as she led him up the stairs, glancing back down at him with a half smile and smoldering eyes that promised the world and more.

"Everybody's talking about how stupid Butler and his posse looked," Cassidy said," And that's all due to you, sweetheart."

Her half smile widened. "I had fun," she said. "You know he's come sniffing around Wayne's before. I had myself a good laugh, watching them scramble around, trying to find you."

Cassidy chuckled. "I reckon you did. Johnny and I had a laugh just imagining it. They weren't too hard on you, were they, darlin'?"

Daisy rolled her eyes and waved her free hand in a dismissive gesture. "That delicate flower of a marshal? Not likely. That deputy of his just kept turning redder and redder trying to ask me about my profession."

Cassidy guffawed at that and squeezed her hand. "Thought you were usually booked tonight."

"I am," she said, winking." I made a special exception just for you, baby. You usually don't stick around here too long."

"I always come back, though, and I always ask for you," he reminded her.

"That you do. And that's why I wanted to do something...well...special for you tonight."

Cassidy raised an eyebrow in anticipation. "Special, eh?"

She grinned and tugged on his hand. "Special. Come on."

They ran up the rest of the stairs, and Cassidy automatically headed to the room Daisy shared with three other girls. She shook her red head.

"Not tonight," she said. "I told you: special."

She led him to a door on the far end of the hall, to a room he'd never visited before. She fished for the key, unlocked it, and pushed open the door.

The room was lavish, painted in dark, soothing colors, and Cassidy whistled softly, impressed. Art hung on the walls, and the furnishings appeared to be genuine antiques. In one corner was a large claw-foot tub with gleaming gold fixtures. But the centerpiece of the room was a bed. Huge, canopied, large enough for more than two, it had a frame of heavy cast iron and was probably handmade. Fanciful creatures twined their way around the bed frame, culminating with two gargoyles perched on small golden orbs in each corner. The sheets were red and satiny-looking.

"My, my, girlie, you pull out all the stops when you say 'special,' don't you?"

"I most certainly do!" laughed Daisy, throwing her arms around him and kissing him. His massive arms went around her and he lifted her off her feet, kissing her back and then moving toward the bed. Daisy pulled free of the kiss and slapped playfully and utterly ineffectively at the broad shoulders.

"Hey, now, this is my surprise! Don't you go rushing and spoiling things!"

Cassidy obediently set her down on the bed and grinned at her. "All right, darlin' you're running this show, and so far I like what I see."

Her gaze flickered down to his crotch. "So do I," she said. "Now, you gotta do just as I say."

He placed a hand to his heart and bowed mockingly. "I am your obedient servant, madam."

Still fully clothed, she kicked off her boots and scooted back on the enormous bed, her eyes bright with mischief. "Very good. First of all, take off your boots."

He obeyed as she instructed him to divest himself of boots, shirt, weapons, and pants until he stood proudly naked before her. She patted the pillow.

"Now, stretch out here for me," she invited. He did so, appreciating the fact that the bed was large enough so he could fully stretch out. Daisy leaned over and kissed him, lingeringly and passionately. She trailed her fingers over his huge chest, then up one of his arms, and then-

Cassidy laughed as a handcuff snapped into place around his wrist, securing him to the iron bed frame. He stared at the gleaming metal for a moment, then a huge grin split his face.

"Oh, darlin' Daisy," he said, warmth in his voice, "I didn't know you was into this sort of thing, or we'd been playing games like this long before now."

"Well, I think tonight's the perfect time to start," Daisy replied, leaning forward to kiss his nose before snapping the second forward restraint around his wrist. Cassidy tugged experimentally. These were genuine articles, not play toys. It would seem Miss Daisy was more hard-core than he had imagined. It was a wonderful thought. Cassidy made himself comfortable on the pillows, letting his arms relax in the handcuffs, and smiled as he anticipated slipping off the bed and flounced to a large dresser with several drawers and cabinets.

She opened a drawer and withdrew something she playfully hid bend her and as she approached the bed.

"Whatcha got there, darlin'?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Her smile grew and became one of triumph. She took her hand from behind her back and showed him.

In her painted and manicured fingers was a hypo.

"You should have paid me two months ago when I asked, Jessie Cassidy," she said.

All the heat that had been rushing to his groin dissipated as if he had just had cold water thrown on him. He felt armor going up around his soul just as it did when he had put on the hard skin back in his army days. It was the oldest trick in the book. and he'd fallen for it. The thought infuriated him. He gave her a little smile.

"Ah, honey, that was a nice night. I thought that was a freebie," he drawled.

She laughed harshly. "You ain't that pretty, Cassidy."

"Honey, that wounds me right to the core, that does. Hurts my ego."

Daisy was done bantering. She continued in a hard voice. "And that nonsense, sending me like a damn calling card to Marshal Butler when you and John made off with those planet-hoppers. Also an unpaid job, I might add. Well, I told him quite a few things he was mighty interested in hearing. He and his boys are going to be here in just a few minutes. And when they get here, I'm going to be one rich woman off that bounty that's on your head."

"I think you get more if I'm alive," he reminded her as she scooted over to him on the bed. bringing the needle closer to his neck. "Last time I checked, anyway."

"You afraid of dying, Jessie Cassidy?" she scoffed. "Course I get more money if you're alive. This s just enough sedatives to knock out a horse. Which should take care of you. You hold still, and this doesn't have to hurt any more than-"

He had been lying quietly, channeling his rage, controlling it. Now, as a teased animal kept in a cage might do, he flung open the door to his fury. Cassidy directed his rage into his right hand, willing it to pull against the chain that imprisoned him, demanding that it break. It did, with a loud crack.

Daisy's eyes widened to the size of credit chips. An instant later his fist, his wrist still encircled by metal and trailing the snapped chain, was in her face. She flew across the bed and collapsed like a rag doll in the corner.

He let out a bellow of fury, using the sound to focus his strength, and snapped the chain on the left handcuff. His feet hit the floor with a thump, and a heartbeat later Jessie Cassidy was racing down the stairs, shouting for John at the top of his lungs.


It had been a good evening for John Raynor.

He had been enjoying himself a bit, as he always did here, even before Daisy had sidled up to Cassidy and stolen him away for the rest of the evening. With Cassidy out of the game, John's luck had continued to improve, and he had grinned cheerfully at the glowering men whose chips he had gathered to himself lovingly. When in his unsteadiness a few had fallen to the floor, he had yelled, "Hey! Friend Kristy! Those are for you!"

"John, honey, you're a doll," she'd shouted back across the noisy room.

John went to the cashier's table, dribbling chips along the way and not caring because it was a drop in the bucket. He exchanged the colorful chips for credits and, feeling generous, brought the table of losers he'd left a round of drinks.

He made his way, carefully, to the dance stage and gazed up raptly at the stripper. She gave him a big smile and a wink and licked her lips.

Oh, shit, John thought as he settled in with a root beer and a small blush. This night was shaping up to be among the awkwardness he'd spent here. And that was when he heard the bellowing.

"Johnny! Johnny, goddamn it, where the fekk are you?"

There was only one person who could yell so loudly. John turned, surprised, to the stairwell and blinked at what he saw there.

Jessie Cassidy, in all his unclothed glory, filled the door frame. Even in the dim, smoky lighting, John could see the fury on his face. The faint illumination glinted off something metallic around his wrists.

The band fell silent and the crowd alternately gasped and laughed. The girls, pausing in their dancing routine, made approving whooping noises and applauded. Cassidy ignored them all, marching through the room as the crowd hastened to part for him. He grabbed John by his shirtfront.

"Let's go! Now! Butler's on his way."

"Whoa, Butler? What happened? Where's Daisy? And how come you're na-"

Cassidy shoved his face to within half a centimeter of John's "NOW!" He did not give Raynor an option. He slipped his hand around to the back of John's dark head, tangled his fingers in his friend's hair, and began to pull as he ran to the door.

"Ow! Hey!" John tugged free and cast an apologetic glance over his shoulder at Kristy, who was laughing as hard as the rest of the girls, and blew him a kiss.

"What about your clothes?" John asked as he followed Cassidy, deliberately not looking at anything but the other man's face.

"Ain't got time!" Cassidy shouted. "Daisy turned me in, the bitch. They're gonna be here any minute now."

Cassidy's lack of apparel continued to cause a bit of a stir as the two bulled their way through the gambling hall area to mingled exclamations of irritation, offense, amusement, and, from some of the female patrons, appreciation. Cassidy almost didn't bother opening the back door as he kept going.

"Damn," Cassidy said, "Left my key's in my pocket."

"Come on, then," John said. "I probably shouldn't be driving, but this is an emergency. Sit behind me. But not too close, okay?"

Cassidy laughed. They headed for the new vulture John had purchased and jumped on. Cassidy grunted a little; the seat was no doubt cold and uncomfortable. John couldn't help it. He started to laugh, and once he'd started, he couldn't stop. As he gunned the engines and the responsive bike surged forward despite the extra weight, he could see several lights approaching Wicked Berry's.

"Damn," Cassidy muttered.

"What?"

"Left my smokes in my pocket too."

John laughed, then pointed. "See those lights over there? That's Butler and his buddies. They are going to be so furious."

"Makes me wanna stay just so I can see their faces."

They were already several hundred yards away fleeing to-

"Uh, friend Cassidy? Where the hell are we going?"

"Away from Butler, capture, and deceitful women, Johnny. And that's really all we need to know, ain't it?"

"You know," John said as he turned toward nature's stone sculptures that were the badlands, "I reckon it is."


Dawn was spectacular as it spread languidly and in startling shades of color over the badlands. It looked to John, as he stood in the mouth of the cave, sipping a cup of powdered hot chocolate heated with water boiled over a campfire as if someone had poured pink and gold and lavender over the red stone.

"That's mighty pretty," he said.

From the depths of the cave, Cassidy gave a grunt. "Sure is."

John turned from the painting coming to life before his eyes to glance at his friend. He could see Cassidy only by the light of the glowing ember of a cigar he'd bummed off John.

They had managed to swipe some clothes after giving Butler the slip, but they fitted Cassidy poorly. The shirt didn't button across the chest-hell, it was a good three inches shy of even closing-and already one of the thighs of the trousers had split. Jessie was lying on the stone floor, chewing his stogie, eyes catching its orange gleam. On one side of him was a sack containing various items they'd stashed here for just an emergency: extra smokes, coffee, and a few credits. On Cassidy's other side was T7 which had been stolen from the maglev train. John sighed inwardly as he looked at "him". One of these days, they'd need to see the man who built the little bot and thank him. T7 helped make hiding from the law much easier by listening to their chatter.

Silence. John lit a cigar of his own and swirled the muddy coffee around the canteen. He took another swig and grimaced. The fire crackled, burning cheerfully and adding some warmth to the cold stone cave.

"This is bucolic, ain't it, Johnny?"

"Indeed."

Another silence. Cassidy sat up, ripping another seam, strode to the campfire, and tossed the cigar butt in.

"I hate bucolic."

John sighed. "We gotta give things a little time to cool down," he said.

"We need to get away from this whole damn planet," Cassidy said. "Let things really cool down. I gotta tell you, after Miss Daisy's deception, I ain't very partial to Wicked Berry's no more."

John said nothing. He, too, had been shocked by Daisy's betrayal. He thought of Kristy, whom he never did get a present for her, and her mother, who was still bedridden frequently, and for whom he found his thoughts lingering. But Cassidy was right. The whole thing had left a bad taste in their mouths. Char Sara didn't feel like their world anymore. Time to leave it to Butler and et the marshal think he'd won.

"Yeah," John said finally. He tossed his butt into the fire as well. "We do the Skulls' mission and then find a new planet."

"Someplace a little less...sandy. And rocky," said Cassidy. He cast a sidelong look at his friend.

"You know," he said casually, "I hear that Grant gives his top people pretty nice apartments, sometimes right on Terra III. Nice beds, baths-one of them copper jobs. Beds even come with women."

John shot him a look. "No," he said sharply. "I am not hanging with Grant and his type. We work for ourselves."

Cassidy snorted. "We're working for the Screaming Skulls right now, Johnny boy."

"That's different and you know it. The Skulls are like us. They got their jobs and they do them, and when they can't, they get people they like and trust and cut'em in for a piece of the action. That's decent business. But Grant. . ." His eyes hardened. " Ain't nothing decent about him anymore and what he does."

Cassidy blew out a thoughtful breath. "All right, John. We`ll stick with the Skulls and our own judgment for now." He held out his hand, and John handed him another cigar. Cassidy bent to the fire, popping another seam, and shoved his face within inches of it without flinching. The cigar sputtered to life. He puffed on it and then joined John at the month of the cave, staring into the new morning.

"Crap coffee, too-small clothes, no real direction, and a gorgeous sunrise," he said, blowing out a stream of smoke. He grinned fiercely. "Man, this life is fun!"


Okay, chapter 8 is out next will be the meeting between two worlds at last. And where John shows some of his abilities so lets go to Ruusan's moon baby!