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  Sidekick

  Henchman Book Two

  Carl Stubblefield

  Copyright © 2020 by Carl Stubblefield

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Newsletter

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  About Carl Stubblefield

  About Mountaindale Press

  Mountaindale Press Titles

  Appendix

  Acknowledgments

  This book goes out to all the underdogs. The unsung heroes who keep working hard, with minimal recognition, support, or appreciation for all their efforts.

  Keep pushing, even when it appears the whole world is against you---because your efforts matter. Whether you know it or not. And if that fails...make them pay.

  Newsletter

  Don’t miss out on future releases! Sign up for the Mountaindale Press newsletter to stay up to date. And as always, thank you for your support! You are the reason we’re able to bring these stories to life.

  Prologue

  Brad Buchanan sat with his feet kicked up on the console, playing a game on his phone. Another computer in the large room beeped in the distance, followed by a whir of drives being accessed and an electric hum as others switched on, doing their preliminary checks before coming online. The sudden flurry of activity startled Brad and he almost tumbled backward. He juggled his phone, trying to keep from dropping it on the polished concrete floor, before he regained his balance. He scooted his chair closer to look at the monitor and pushed his glasses up his nose. The only message displayed was:

  Beacon detected. Signal: extremely weak.

  A terminal nearby began to emit a pinging pulse that reminded Brad of the sonar in the old submarine war movies his dad watched. Rolling his chair over to the terminal, he saw a green world map displayed. Ripples like a stone dropped in a pond emanated from their location outward. The weak signal was lost amid the competing interference of other signals. Brad had one job: Notify his superiors if the computer detected anything. Finally, he could do something for a change. Sure it was easy money, but with nothing else to occupy his thoughts, it made for some long days. He needed to get out of here, but that would take a promotion.

  Brad was the only monitor still working who knew what they were supposed to be watching for. And it took nearly a year of sucking up to the old man who took over for the morning shift. He had finally told Brad the day he retired.

  An evil grin formed on his face and Brad keyed the communicator on the display. Focusing on the signal, he left a short message: “Thank you, whoever you are. We have been looking for the manor for so long. Now that we know where you are, we will be seeing you soon to reclaim what is ours!” Satisfied with himself, he sat back in his chair. They hadn’t mentioned anything about communicating back, but they liked people with initiative, right? Who knew what promotion awaited him? He sent a quick communique on his console to his superiors and told them what he had found.

  As if waiting on the other line, a voice Brad had previously only heard in training holos answered as soon as he hit send. He looked at his watch. 3:23 AM? Who was awake at headquarters at this hour?

  A manic, gravelly voice came through his console, “I will be there immediately.”

  Archon leaned back in his high-backed leather chair in the office far above, his bony fingers clawing the armrests in triumph and excitement. “Finally, revenge is at hand for Manticorps!” he shouted to the empty office. After Manticorps’ fall from grace, they had become forgotten, abandoned by those who purported to be allies. Those deserters would pay. All would regret their betrayals. Archon spun his chair and looked out at the night sky, excited to share the news with his son.

  Chapter One

  Start Over

  Gus was training on the beach, the soft sand cushioning his falls as he tried to level up Basic Flight. He jumped and flipped in the air, throwing Jet into the nearby blue water. The sleek black shape disappeared under the water. Gus pulled with an Ether Leash and a large fish came with it, skewered on the end of the blade. The serrated edge kept the fish from sliding off as he pulled the weapon back to him. He didn’t need to fish, but it was easy grinding for Polearms, Ether Leash and Fishing.

  The past couple days had fallen into a comfortable routine. Training in the morning in the arena, a big breakfast, then relaxing on the beach. Fishing was a lot more fun when he didn’t have to do it just to survive. Also, it helped train his reflexes and aim. Gus enjoyed leveling at his own pace, with no emergencies to drive him. With the bio-stasis shield down, he could eventually make it back to civilization when he was ready and felt he had trained enough to hold his own.

  Gus nodded in appreciation at Stuart’s efficiency. The manor’s AI steward in charge of managing the facilities had been tasked to clean up the remains of the Dark Nth. His robot minions were doing an exceptional job. The grounds already looked back to near-pristine condition. Gus would cook up his catch later in the day when the manor patio provided some shade and relax in the late afternoon and evening. Life was good.

  Without battles, he wasn’t leveling up nearly as quickly, but he was making slow and steady progress. He wasn’t in a rush now that things had stabilized. He had hit level 14 and was halfway to 15, most of the XP from skill leveling. He hadn’t realized how much tension he’d been carrying until things finally settled down.

  Nick had reassured him that with the island being so remote, it would be very difficult to find, even if someone was looking for it. Since the manor wasn’t transmitting anything or emitting any kind of signals, it should keep off the radar. Gus still felt a little exposed without the bio-stasis field, but after a couple days, he began to relax, chiding himself for his hypervigilance and worry.

  He had cut one jumpsuit down into a nice swimsuit. After a lot of rummaging through the dispensary, he had found a mask and snorkel as well as some scuba gear. Not being familiar with the scuba mouthpiece and tanks, he opted
simply to explore the reefs and wildlife around the rocks. He’d always been fairly pasty since he was always indoors, but he was developing a respectable tan, and an ever-improving physique. With a little tweaking, he had automated Energy Absorption so he’d never get a sunburn again. Membership had its privileges. Taking a break, he lay back in the warm sand and closed his eyes.

  While Gus enjoyed his downtime, a flashing red light winked on in the control center.

  (1) message pending.

  It set off no alarms or notices. The peacefulness of its mute winking belied the bombshell that it contained. Gus went about his routine for another couple days, not once visiting the control center, and so the message stayed there, patiently blinking.

  Chapter Two

  Panic Attack

  “Gus, proximity alert! Someone is nearing the northwest shore!”

  “What? Already?!” He had figured that it was a remote possibility that someone determined could find the island eventually. He waded out of the water and removed his mask and snorkel, tossing them to the beach, out of range of the busy little robot cleaners.

  In his mind, he had estimated it would take a much longer time for someone to discover the island. Someone had come to ruin his plans to relax and prepare at his own pace before heading back to civilization. He tightened his grip on Jet and began to run to the area indicated by Nick.

  The warm, salty wind blew by as Gus used Dash to move quickly down to the beach, drying himself almost immediately after a brief chill. He rocketed down the coast, steps bouncing like a skipping stone off the lazy waves that licked the sandy shore.

  When the minimap showed he was nearing the landing zone, he moved away from the water, up to where the long grasses and palms grew, to hide his footprints and observe the invaders. His heart pounded like a big bass drum, threatening to betray his hiding spot to the world, even though Gus knew that it wasn’t that loud in reality.

  A bobbing blip became visible along the horizon, and Gus zoomed in his display to see a small, unremarkable ship skip into view. It was traveling fairly quickly, directly for the beach where he was hidden. He clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes at the thought of someone coming to take away the island.

  This island was his. He had not constructed it, but it was through his effort alone that it had become viable for use. No one else had been able to do that in decades of trying. Gus was also painfully aware he was still a noob compared to most supers out there, but he wasn’t going to let the island and the manor go without a fight.

  The loss of the bio-stasis field was a double-edged sword. It freed up a huge reserve of energy taken up by the shield to unlock facilities. But the island was now out in the open, with no defenses to speak of. He felt sweat slick on his palms as he held Jet, waiting and watching the ship.

  To be honest, he wanted to get back to civilization but hadn’t thought that it would result in such a quick move to seize the manor out from under him. Being alone was starting to affect him more than he would like to admit. Besides, the capacitors were so shot from being operational for so long that Nick had told him they would probably never come back online unless they were repaired extensively or replaced. He would have to find another way to protect his home.

  As the ship approached, Gus could resolve some men moving along the decks. Most were carrying automatic weapons and patrolling back and forth. He could not sense any Nth with his passive Psi-link skill, which was a little confusing. Maybe these were henchmen, fodder to exhaust him and ‘soften him up’ before the real supers arrived to finish what they started. So strange to be seeing this from the other side of the equation. He almost felt bad for them; who knew what he would do if he had a family he had to support.

  The details of the unkempt men came clearer the closer they came to the shore. No one was wearing a standard uniform and the group did not behave at all like seasoned soldiers. At long last, the ship neared and slowed as it got close enough to debark and Gus could make out some of their shouted commands, but they were all in a different language. There was a quick warbling tone and suddenly he could understand the commands one particularly nasty individual was barking at the others.

  “You’re welcome,” Nick drawled sarcastically.

  “Get ashore and see if there’s anything we can use. We need more water, and some food would be nice. Hurry! We need to finish here and get to the rendezvous point in less than thirty hours!”

  It doesn’t seem like they were looking for me… Gus relaxed a bit. This was probably just a coincidence and he only needed to wait for the men to leave. The manor was far enough away that he didn’t think they could see it from this part of the island, and it would take them a while to walk far enough through the jungle for it to become visible. All he had to do was wait them out. Easy.

  Part of him knew that was rarely the case.

  Nothing was ever easy.

  Chapter Three

  Ship of Fools

  The men dropped anchor and two jumped off the boat. Gus heard them assigning tasks. One went to look for food; another left to look for supplies and fill the water jugs. There continued to be no indication that they were looking for him, which lowered Gus’ alarm even more. Until they mentioned where they would sell the women. Time slowed for Gus for a couple moments, and he wondered whether he had heard correctly.

  As Nick interpreted, Gus learned more of these men who had boarded a ship this morning, taking the owner and his family and friends captive.

  The cavalier attitude the men had with slavery in this modern day took Gus’ brain a bit to process. One of the men ranted about how even though they kept them all together in one room without conveniences, the younger girls had covered themselves in feces to avoid being violated. The other trafficker laughed, saying that wouldn’t stop him.

  Gus realized that he had to do something. Reality slapped him full in the face. Part of his mind was hesitant to take action, worrying about the possible ways it would reveal his location and result in the loss of the island. The stronger half asserted that if he didn’t help these people, he deserved to lose the island, and he would be one of those supers. The selfish ego-tripping individuals who only looked out for number one. Now was time for action; he could philosophize later.

  Gus toggled his display and saw six men in infrared. Two on the beach and four remaining on the ship. The ambient heat made it too bright to hold this view for long. He saw no evidence of the captives. They must be deeper onboard—possibly masked by walls or water, or in some kind of hold that would block their heat signature.

  He would have to separate these guys, and not let them warn each other or harm the hostages. Sweat beaded on his forehead at the very real stakes involved. He tracked one of the traffickers as he stepped out of sight of his crew, exploring deeper into the forest that lined the beach shortly after the sand ended. It was the first time he had an opportunity to incapacitate someone rather than kill them outright, and he fumbled at what skills he should use. Wreck-luse would be nice if it didn’t have its deadly toxic effect. Maybe some kind of Ether Weaving to prevent him from crying out and from firing a shot at the same time? It was worth a try.

  Waiting for the heavyset man to put some distance between the ship and himself, Gus readied his weave. He had a bandana-wide swath of ether prepared, and snuck up behind the man. With a quick snap he swung it over and enveloped the man’s head. At the same time, he used two tendrils of ether to plug the barrel of the gun as well as fill the trigger guard so the man could not fire a shot to warn his friends.

  The man was startled and the gun wrenched easily from his hands. It was odd to see his hands fly to his face and pull at the invisible and incorporeal ether that displaced and sealed out oxygen. Try as he might, the man found no purchase on the material and struggled to regain the ability to breathe. Since he wasn’t in the best physical condition, the pirate passed out quickly. Gus half-dropped, half-carried the man to the ground as he collapsed.

  Gus reformed the ether,
making it into a gag. He pulled the man twenty feet off the trail and fashioned arm and leg restraints out of ether lashes. Gus marveled at how ether reacted with regular matter. Without the ability to shape it, there was no way the man could untie himself and get free. He would feel that he was bound by something as incorporeal to him as air. Gus doubted he could even bruise or chafe if he struggled against the bonds.

  Securing him to a tree out of sight of the trail, Gus made his way back to the beach, trying to find out how to distract the others and get them off the boat if at all possible. It only would take one slip-up and people could be hurt by his incompetence. When he reached the boat, the four men were still on board, and the other man who had disembarked was nowhere to be seen.

  He could see the footprints on the soft white sand, trailing away from the boat. He followed them warily, intermittently changing filters on his display in order to distinguish where the man was. Gus had no luck until he came to a wide opening. The path spilled out to a taller area overlooking a pool. A waterfall dumped noisily nearby, into a calm pool beneath.