Stars Gods Wolves by Dan Kirshtein (good books for 8th graders .TXT) 📗

of the Waykind burst after a brief and tiny purple explosion. Once the smoke cleared and the rubble fell away, a circular hole revealed a man in his pajamas, standing at a stove. The man had turned, with one leg still in the air, his body curled slightly.

Boomer gave an apologetic smile to the man while he slowly stepped back. He turned that smile back to Nitro, who put his forehead in his palm before turning away. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. “Just be ready in two hours.” He opened the door and walked through it again; this time he was careful not to slam it.

Jupiter Proximity Station:Loading Zone Seven

Harper stepped off the Atticus and looked out. He squinted and noticed a group of people on the landing zone walking toward the ship. Four soldiers with discerning faces approached. At least, they carried soldier-like equipment, but they were unlike anything Harper had seen before—especially the big, furry one. As they approached, Harper suddenly felt very out of place. One by one, each of them gave the ship a look of disapproval, which didn’t ease Harper in the least.

Nitro was at the end of the line and extended a mysteriously wet hand to shake. “Or should I be saluting?” Nitro eyed him wilily, with a small grin.

Harper took the hand, shook it, and then awkwardly met Nitro’s gaze. “Oh, no, my military days are behind me.” His face changed to a polite smile. “Call me Harper.”

Nitro nodded before breaking from the handshake. He didn’t feel the need for further introductions: he could spot a pilot a mile away, and he found they didn’t lead the most interesting lives. He was grateful Harper didn’t seem to push the conversation further. “Ramone not here yet?” Nitro asked before the pilot shrugged.

When Harper turned to watch the rest of Purple Company make themselves at home aboard his ship, he made a mental list of complaints about his passengers: one of them was about two hundred pounds larger than expected, the woman loaded a cigarette cartridge the instant she stepped into the bay, and the scraggly-haired man had a probably-hard-to-wash-out smell. Harper held his tongue on all that, as it only annoyed him, but wouldn’t affect the job. What he finally commented on was what weighed on his mind as inherently dangerous. “I don’t usually transport military.”

“We’re not.” Nitro gave a half-smile as his hand dove into his pocket, pulling out a small sheet of paper. “Purple Company, independent contractors.”

Harper winced, finally giving his own discerning look as he read the paper. “Mercenaries?” He hadn’t bothered to hold the paper; he could only imagine where it had been. He glanced behind the captain to see less-than-standard-issue explosives being less-than-expertly loaded onto his ship. His eye twitched.

“Independents.” Nitro’s voice lowered. He seemed to take issue with the term ‘mercenaries’. His face tightened and his eyebrows dropped, as if he’d practiced looking more professional and streamlined. It didn’t help. Harper bit his lip, his eyelids flat and unimpressed. An old-fashioned electric scooter approached. It didn’t hover, it wasn’t auto-piloted, and it carried a very slight-framed woman. She waved at them with an arm that carried a satchel around it.

Harper raised a stiff hand back. Nitro only stared into the distance.

The wheels on the mechanical scooter came to a slow stop in front of the men. Once it was folded up, she extended a hand of her own to each man. Nitro shook it first, before his eyes fell upon a large overnight bag. His head jolted back to the freshly showered woman who was already on her way to shake Harper’s hand. “Secretary Ramone. Good to, officially, meet you both.” She carried herself so quickly, so one-second-to-the-next, as if they were already running behind schedule. They were quite used to the rush in the military, but the way she did it was unlike anything they’d ever seen.

”Wait a minute,” Nitro mumbled, drowned out by Harper briefing Gally on the Atticus’s specs. She also didn’t seem to notice Nitro’s confusion, as she expressed that she’d found the ship to be adequate for the job. Harper just seemed excited to be speaking, even if it was over the captain. “Wait a minute,” Nitro tried, a bit louder, to interject into the conversation, but that also fell on deaf ears, as Harper warned her that he wasn’t government or familiar with their codes or practices. Still not glancing at Nitro, Gally assured the pilot that his experience was, indeed, what she was looking for. Nitro could no longer be polite. He stepped closer between them and finally blurted out something in what was hardly a space in the conversation. “Wait a minute. You’re coming with us?”

The brief halt in the conversation between Gally and Harper did not come with silence; Gally did not miss a beat. Matter-of-factly, she met eyes with him and nodded. “Will that be a problem, Captain?” Her eyes were expectant, firm, but her tone was more business-like than aggressive.

Nitro looked away for a second, then back to her with a face that did its best to hold something back. They’d never included civilians in their missions before; any non-military team members would only get in the way: it was absolutely a problem. “No problem at all, ma’am.” He gave her a practiced poker face. “My crew is just hazy on some of the details of this op, is all.”

She smiled back at him. “I’ll be happy to fill you in.”

“Fantastic.”

“Once we’re out of orbit.” And she walked past him. Harper followed like a lost puppy.

“Shit.” Nitro stood staring into the distance before shaking his head. He cursed to himself once more before spitting on the tarmac. He didn’t like the situation, but a contract was a contract. He knew that would be small consolation to the others, but they’d accept it. After all, he told himself, he was crazier than all of them put together. He had to be.

Shaking his head, Nitro