《Murario 2177》


 Chapter One – The Glory That Was Earth

    Jackson


    Jackson tapped his fingers against the solid wooden desk. It was a small thing he usually did when he was thinking and the temporary solution found was not satisfactory just yet.


    "Is it essential for me to move?" he asked, after letting several seconds pass in perfect silence.


    The old man sitting on the chair across from him nodded shortly. His watery blue eyes held no emotion in them.


    "Frankly, I thought I was merely a straw man and nothing more."


    The other remained silent, not even sparing a nod this time.


    "I was just supposed to attend functions here, on Earth, looking pretty, smiling nicely, and understanding nothing of the mumbo jumbo being said around me. Wasn''t this the reason you hired me in the first place?" Jackson ran his fingers through his long royal golden hair in frustration.


    After all, this is what he was supposed to do and how he was supposed to be seen by everyone around. Yes, including those who had hired him to be a mindless host programmed to say only pleasant things and nothing more.


    The old man pursed his dried up lips, managing to look even more like a dehydrated prune.


    "Jackson, we both know your aesthetically pleasing appearance serves a purpose. No need to rub it in, really," his guest finally decided to chide him.


    "What exactly I am supposed to do on this planet ... what''s it called? Murario? I only know how to make pleasant conversation and play golf."


    "Two very important assets, if I may say."


    "You may," Jackson stared at his guest through his long eyelashes, carefully curled with the help of special irons. A routine he patiently endured every morning. As he had to suffer through having his eyes cleaned thoroughly until they had the bluest color possible, and his complexion treated with diamond dust to make it luscious and looking like out of their world.


    "It is settled, then," the man stood up stiffly, mostly due to his bad joints, rather than the need to grate Jackson''s nerves.


    "Pa, why do you hate me?" Jackson made the best puppy eyes he could, as he placed both palms on the desk in a gesture of surrender.


    "I don''t hate you, Jackie," the man spoke almost tenderly. "I know that you are used to this easy life and you know nothing else, but I think this mission comes at the right moment. You are soon to turn 21 years of age. It is time to grow up and prove everyone you''re more than just a pretty face. And, please consider some more conservative attire for this mission. I doubt people on Murario would much appreciate golden glitter on clothes. They¡¯re miners."


    Jackson stretched one arm and looked at the see-through garment wrapped around his lean muscles. Yes, he agreed the use of glitter was simply outrageous. He looked like a clown, but this clown was capable of bringing in the dough. The old man knew that very well. What was he to do on a planet light years away fashion wise? He was just going to stick out like a sore thumb. And what was all that talk about having an easy life? He woke up each morning at 5, had to jog for an hour, have mixed martial arts training for other two, and eat no carbs at all for the rest of his waking hours.


    "And what do you suggest I wear?" he stood up, too, and danced across the room to hold the door for the old man.


    "Something," the old man watched him warily, "... black."


    "Black?" Jackson asked, now alarmed for real. "I''m not sure any of the stores that cater to me," he pressed one hand on his chest as theatrically as he could, "would even have anything in this terrible color."


    "That is why you are going to shop somewhere else," the man shrugged.


    "Shop? But they always come to me," Jackson complained.


    "If you want to make a fool of yourself on Murario, you are too old for anyone, including me, to stop you."


    "Understood," Jackson nodded, realizing that he could not take the joke further.


    That meant the situation was much more complicated than he was let to know. What was that the old man wasn''t telling him?


    "You''re worried," he spoke again. "Why?"


    "Don''t bother yourself," the old man said with a sigh. "We need someone on the ground in Murario, and it has to be you. Your face is always all over the news. Those people there must understand that we care about them enough to send our fairest poster boy to negotiate a trade agreement."


    "A trade agreement? That should be a piece of cake," Jackson squared his shoulders. "What do you want me to get from these people? Are they too boorish to understand common sense? And, above everything else, what aren''t you telling me?"


    There was a fraction of a second, right there, when the old man lost his composure. Jackson wasn''t stupid. Everyone liked to think that about him, even the old man. But he knew something was wrong. He swallowed nervously.


    "How will I know not to breech etiquette once I get there?" he asked.


    "All you need to know is already in your com. Just read everything carefully."


    ***


    "What is this?" Jackson mumbled as he flicked through the information.


    He unplugged the com from his temple and threw it on the table. Now all that stupid data was in his brain, thank you very much. So, Murario was like a mining colony or something? Yeah, he got it, the planet had vast deposits of clementium and that mattered because anywhere else in the colonies, it was sparse, at best. But to send him on such a low-key mission to convince some miners that Earth was making a damn good offer? Plus, the inhabitants were Earthians, too, or, at least descendants of Earthians. They should have been easy to deal with.


    He took a look in the full size mirror. He looked like someone ready to attend a funeral. The black suit in three pieces was barely brightened up by a grey tie. And he looked so out of fashion. He had even tied up his hair in a small ponytail, using a small leather band. The only thing missing were some dark circles under his eyes. He had been almost tempted to draw some, just for the fun of it.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Actually, if he looked better, he thought, as he pulled his sleeves to adjust them, the clothes were not that bad. There were no pink strands to make him look interesting, no glitter on his clothes to make everyone enjoy the circus act he was putting on. He looked... proper. Dignified even. He wondered what kind of people those on Murario were. He took the com again, and pressed it into the plug in his temple once more.


    "Murario," he commanded.


    Damn, but the place looked depressing. Nothing but mountains, every now and then a small valley where grey tall buildings rose, most probably belonging to mining companies. Very efficient. Yet, terribly depressing. Now, what about the people? The images available showed men and women mostly in grey and black attire, rugged, with unwelcoming eyes. They were built of sterner stuff than Earthians, obviously.


    Why was a parakeet like him to do there, anyway? The old man had said something about not insulting them by refusing to send the main negotiator specialized in trade agreements. Maybe it was the truth. But no, that was not it. The old man had been too worried for that to be it. And everyone with half a brain knew very well Jackson was paraded at these functions just to draw attention and make press conferences more interesting. He had nothing to do with how the trade agreements were brought into existence. Yet somehow his colorful presence made people sign those damn papers.


    The whole thing was giving him the chills. He had no actual interest in politics. What he did was to attend official get-togethers, let everyone bask in his flamboyant presence, and dazzle them with the glory that was Earth. It usually worked, and the pay was good.


    But he knew he was not the only one. Charming business partners was heavy work, and there were other beautiful men and women, selected, just like him, to do the same. Only that he was the best.


    He sighed. All right, he was ready to meet these people who could care less about glitter. Funny thing, he felt good without all that spread all over him. It was a pain to remove each night, when soaking in the bathtub. And black did become him, it seemed. Go figure.


    ***


    He had slept fitfully through the entire interplanetary flight, and, although he had to admit that he had looked better when he boarded, he was pretty sure the people on Murario were not going to mind him having some real black circles under his eyes now. He stood on the moving platform, one hand casually resting on the metal bar, the other playing with the small cane delivered with his attire. It was a good thing he was wearing leather gloves. The last thing he wanted was to get dirty.


    He stood stiff as a rod as the platform eventually landed on ground level and stopped with a small screeching sound. This was how they always met their guests? No wonder nobody wanted to come here, Jackson thought.


    And, on top of everything, it was raining. He doubted the tall hat he had been forced to wear after much deliberations with his stylist, could withstand too much of that. Maybe the rain was acid, too?


    Tentatively, he stretched his palm, forgetting he was wearing gloves.


    "Jackson Marmy?" a voice startled him.


    A man in his 50s measured him up and down, as he waited for a reply. He was wearing work boots with metal caps, and clothes of a difficult to define color. Some sort of navy blue? Or maybe it had been black, and now it was losing itself into some sort of bluish dark grey? He could not tell. The man''s hair was a mess, a matted ginger color, long and probably unwashed for days. His dark eyes were a bit wild, and his mustache, the same color as the hair, was making him look like a villain from some random cartoon series.


    Jackson put on his most affable smile.


    "Yes, pleased to meet you," he offered his hand and hurried to meet the man half way.


    The man threw him a strange look but took his hand and shook it firmly. Jackson carefully kept smiling, maintaining eye contact, although he could bet his hand was going to have bruises when the giant was going to be done with him.


    "Hadrian Drake," the man recommended himself. "This is Dana Drake, your bodyguard."


    Only then did Jackson noticed there was someone else present, another man, a much younger one, sitting next to something that looked like a transportation device from a different era. Hadrian Drake had pronounced his son¡¯s name Da-nah, and with a hint of pride, if Jackson was reading the signs well.


    The young man cared not an ounce about the rain wetting his short black hair. Jackson examined him from afar. The boy wore black jeans that showed strong thighs and long legs stuffed into the same type of boots as Hadrian wore. The black leather jacket the youth wore was well protecting his upper body, and it was large enough to make the guy almost lose himself in it. He wore some sort of protective eye gear, and it was not like Jackson could tell the color of his eyes from where he stood, either.


    "A bodyguard?" He barely registered. "Do I need one?"


    "We had no choice. Since you were sent alone," Hadrian replied, showing surprise.


    Jackson felt the same chill he had experienced when he had noticed the hesitation in the old man while sending him on this mission.


    "You can trust Dana," the man added. "Dana, come here," he barked.


    The youth moved, hurrying towards them. Jackson pursed his lips. What was he getting himself into? This was mockery, to be allotted as bodyguard a boy who barely looked a day over 16, and seemed like he could not care less about playing babysitter for an Earthian.


    Jackson had thought himself important. That clearly showed he was not.


    "Show Mr. Marmy," Hadrian gestured for Dana to do something.


    "Holy freaking ..." Jackson lost it when Dana Drake opened his leather jacket and showed a vulgar display of weaponry that he was pretty sure he had no idea how it would function. The young man smirked and stood like that, as if he were some sort of exhibitionist. His entire front was covered in what looked like ammunition, and the interior of his jacket was packed with steel mesh that held contraptions big and small.


    Hadrian laughed wholeheartedly.


    "I terribly apologize," Jackson hurried to repair his outburst from earlier.


    "No need to be sorry," Hadrian patted his back, a bit too powerfully.


    "Am I in danger?" Jackson eyed Dana''s weapons warily.


    Hadrian laughed, and Dana joined him. The younger male seemed very carefree for the type of situation they were in.


    "I think I will contact Earth and ask right away for an escort," he snapped, and made a turn for the transportation ship, only to witness the damn thing lifting off the ground.


    He was pretty much seething with anger when he turned to face the duo. The two men were looking at him like he had just dropped from the sky. Which, of course, he had.


    "I will need your communication channels," he addressed Hadrian.


    "To contact Earth? Of course. Only that I don''t think you should be without an escort until they send someone," the man replied. "Dana will take care of you, don''t worry."


    The younger man zippered up his jacket and looked straight at Jackson. If he was to read the body language right, there was interest there. He could not exactly see Dana¡¯s eyes, as they were carefully covered by that horrendous eyewear piece. But Jackson had a trained eye when it came to beauty.


    The guy was a looker, his face smooth, despite somewhat angular. His lips were soft and quirked into a smile. Jackson knew well what that meant.


    The guy was interested in Jackson. Only that Jackson was not into guys. He had a moral conduct to abide by, and he was not going to cross the line now. Despite being flamboyant and overtly flirty when interacting with business partners, he had never tipped the balance in Earth¡¯s favor by going further than that.


    And, of course, that had still managed to make him a little jaded. After all, he had been forbidden to engage in any kind of relationships until now and that meant he was a pretty frustrated young man at the age of almost 21. Well, at least when he thought of it. The way Dana Drake seemed to look at him wasn¡¯t particularly helpful in that respect, either.


    He needed no complications. Maybe that was why the old man had told him to wear plain clothes. If many Murarios were like this one, soon he was going to fend them off with a stick. The last thing he needed was to seem available for whatever they had in mind. He tried to remember if he had learned something about this sort of interactions on Murario. There had to be a way for letting one down gently, if it came to that. Until then, he had to make do with what was available.


    So, he frowned when he looked at Dana, mustering all the outrage he could to send across the message. The guy seemed totally unfazed and continued to stare Jackson up and down, like he could see through clothes. Jackson could bet that without the tactical glasses, or what those were, the guy¡¯s eyes were pretty, too, like the rest of him. He gave himself a hypothetical slap upside the head. What was wrong with him? Never before had he felt attracted to a guy. And at such an inopportune time. The guy was not what could be called handsome.


    At least not by Earth standards. His features were even a tad too effeminate, something unusual for a mining colony where even women seemed to be cut from the same stone they were mining through. At least that had been his impression after watching the feed delivered to his brain by the materials made available via his com.


    No, Dana Drake wasn''t handsome. But he was pretty, and not as rugged as an Earthian would have expected to see. Jackson huffed, and Dana stiffened, like suddenly slapped.


    "I''ll let you kids now, since I have work to do down at the mine. Dana, play nice," the old man wagged his finger at his son.


    "What? You know I will," the youngster spoke, and his coarse, yet sexy voice felt like music to Jackson''s ears. "Come," Dana gestured for him to follow.


    He waited patiently, as Dana climbed in the front. The door to his side was pushed forcefully, almost hitting him over his knees. He jumped, startled more by the rudeness of the gesture, than being actually hurt.


    "Are you coming or what?" Dana directed the question at him.


    He took a look at the so called seat, but he chose to avoid commenting further. His so called diplomatic mission was getting stranger by the minute. He took his seat, carefully gathering the jacket around him and placing the cane, which was supposed to be nothing but a fashionable accessory, on his knees.


    "What''s that?" Dana gestured for the cane, while igniting the contraption''s engine that gave in with huffs and puffs. "Is it some sort of weapon?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement.


    "Weapon?" he asked, mesmerized at the lack of any knowledge on the youth''s part about what weapons meant on Earth. Certainly, not fashionable canes. "I supposed that it could be used only in the event of trying to fend someone off with a stick ..."


    Dana laughed. Jackson stared at his profile. His raven strands of hair were unruly and the shaved undercut made Dana look every bit like the bad boy he tried to be. Jackson scrunched up his nose. Undercuts were so last century. No wonder no one wanted to come down here. There was nothing to see and the people were rude. And out of fashion.


    "Have you ever tried to hit somebody with that stick, then?" Dana asked, as his leather clad hands manipulated the wheel with practice ease, making the transportation device sigh from all its hinges.


    "Me? No, of course not," Jackson spoke, yet he grabbed the cane like it was a means to defend himself against the boisterous youth next to him.


    "Why?" the other young man asked.


    "Hmm, maybe because ... it''s not done?" Jackson chose to thread carefully.


    "Really? Why do you carry it with you, then?"


    "It''s just an accessory," Jackson explained.


    "For what?"


    "For carrying around."


    "No purpose whatsoever?"


    "I suppose," Jackson chose to show his annoyance a bit.


    ***


    Dana


    Dana shook her head upon hearing the guy¡¯s answer.


    "Earthians," she said, mostly to herself.


    Yeah, Earthians were strange all right. But damn handsome, she thought as she stole another quick glance at her passenger.


    TBC

 Chapter Two – Did You Just Call Me Pretty?

    Dana


    Dana Drake was rarely impressed. She knew a lot of guys, but all of them were born and raised on Murario. It was the first time to see an Earthian, in flesh and blood. Jackson Marmy was even the first to ever set foot on Murario and that was some kind of big deal, as her dad had said. For what reason, she could not remember. Her dad liked to prattle about things she could not quite understand.


    She had seen plenty of Earthians on the interplanetary broadcast, though. They always seemed so carefree and somewhat empty headed. Some of her friends were talking about Earth guys like they were some sort of gods. Damn, those girls could get all mushy and stuff over celebs they saw on their little dusty screens. She was not like them.


    At least she hadn¡¯t been until today. When Jackson Marmy had stood on that platform, resting against that wooden thing she had supposed it was some sort of weapon, she had almost felt the need to pick up her jaw off the floor. And not because she had been shocked, but because she could not think of any other means to express the sudden, almost physical hit, she had felt when she had looked at him.


    That young man was beautiful. A few golden strands had flown in the harsh wind from under his tall hat. When his eyes had scouted the perimeter, Dana could only think of just wanting to rush to him and watch him from up close. She had wanted to look at him and sniff him. She bet he smelled nice. He was tall and graceful and had an air about him, like he was from another world, indeed.


    It had taken her a few minutes to come to her senses. She had used to think she was immune to guys'' charms, as her friend, Isabella, called them. But right now, all she could think of was how she was going to survive being so close to this guy and not do anything. Had he been from Murario, it would have not been an issue. Guys here liked being proposed by girls. It was almost like a dating ritual. Especially since guys knew badass girls like her were strong enough to let their feelings show.


    But she could not do the same with this one. Also, she could tell he hated her guts for some reason. All right, she should not have laughed when he had asked if he was in danger. But even her dad had found the idea funny. An Earthian on Murario? What was everyone thinking? There was no lost love for Earthians here.


    Ugh, she needed to keep a straight head. There was no time to daydream, even if the guy sitting in the car next to her right now smelled nice and looked like the most beautiful man in the universe.


    It was not like she was a dimwit, anyway. She had had her fair share of stolen embraces and kisses. But she had never gone all the way. Somehow, she hadn''t wanted to feel like a fraud. She hadn''t wanted to sleep with some guy only for experimenting purposes. Isabella called her old fashioned and mocked her, saying she was going to die an old wrinkled bitter spinster. Or probably Isabella had added some other things, one less flattering than the other.


    It was not like she was walking around with her nose held up high. She just didn''t want to be with just some random guy. At 20, she was already thinking, though, that Isabella was right, and she had to resign with the idea that Mr. Perfect wasn''t anywhere around.


    The only thing was that Mr. Perfect was real and presently sitting next to her, grabbing his boy stick nervously, like he expected to get jumped at any moment. Dana was pretty certain the poor fellow was right, in a way. If she was to take him along when hanging out with her friends, the beautiful Earthian was going to get a lot of attention. People from other places often said women on Murario were straight out of hell with their straightforward manner of asking out guys. Not that they were particularly complaining. Only that Dana hated behaving like the rest of the girls.


    Maybe it was her late mother¡¯s fault she was like that. Their library at home was full with all kinds of romantic books from Earth, in which women were wooed and dressed nicely and men were gallant and ready to sacrifice themselves for their sake. The nicest thing Dana had to dress was an old dress from her mom, and that was safely stashed in a box in her room. Not even her dad knew about it.


    The old man, he meant well. But he wanted Dana to be strong. And she was strong. But really, to put her in charge of taking care of this beautiful stranger? He had no idea what kind of torture that was for her. The man looked like dreams come true. Although he was a bit too arrogant, even for an Earthian.


    Plus, he looked like he had just had a breakfast based on nothing but lemons. She wished the atmosphere was not that tense.


    Of course, it was not like this Earthian was going to consider Dana beautiful or at least attractive. She had had to cut her hair after an accident down at the mine. She had to be thankful she had still gotten to keep some of her hair. It was not the most stylish haircut but Isabella had assured her that when her hair was going to grow, it was going to hide the shaved parts on which hair was never going to grow again after having her scalp burned with acid. At least, the skin had healed without visible bruises with the help of some really expensive grafts. But doctors here had no means to have her hair grow back and it would have been a waste anyway. She had to be thankful to be alive.


    She sighed. Some boys had called her pretty, but what did they know? Jackson Marmy was from Earth, where women had skin like alabaster, eyes like the summer sky, perfect teeth, and, of course, perfect hair. She was no match. Probably he was laughing on the inside at her desperate attempts to just talk to him. Yet, if she watched carefully, he looked worried. Was it the first mission of this kind for him? He seemed quite young.


    "How old are you?" she blurted out.


    "Almost 21," the guy replied promptly. "You?"


    "20," she answered back.


    "Oh," he said.


    "What''s that supposed to mean?" she asked again, a little gruffly. His manner of speaking was getting a little on her nerves.


    "I thought you were younger, like 16 or something."


    That gave her pause. Did she actually look younger than her age? Never before had she been said that. But, of course, he was from Earth.


    "You look awfully young," the guy chatted away. "I mean, for being a bodyguard. Also, way too pretty."


    Dana saw the turn at the last minute and swerved. The guy was a bit too white in the face when she looked at him again.


    "Not that I would have a problem with that," the Earthian continued, looking away like he felt guilty or something.


    Isabella was going to go nuts. This beautiful guy had called Dana Drake, the daughter of a miner, the one known as the fastest sharpshooter in their district, the girl with only one dress she had never worn, pretty. He had called her pretty.


    "Thanks," she found her voice. "For saying that I''m pretty," she added. Hello, there was life on Earth, what did you know? "You''re not bad either," she told him with a small smile.


    "Well, about that," the blond grimaced and adjusted his gloves. "I noticed you looking at me. Please, do not take it the wrong way. I am not interested."


    Wow, Dana could still remember the cold shower she had taken in the morning. It hadn''t felt that cold.


    "Interested? In what?" she feigned ignorance, while biting her lower lip.


    It wasn''t normal to suddenly feel her nose itching like she was on the point of crying when being rejected by a guy she had barely met.


    "Oh? It seems I misunderstood. I apologize," Jackson replied.


    He was so rude with his politeness. Dana felt the sudden need to strangle him. A little, not much. So there went her hopes and dreams. She was pretty, she looked 4 years younger, and he wasn''t interested. Game over. What was the big deal anyway?


    "We arrived," she regained her voice and stepped out of the car.


    At least, this time, the asshole didn''t wait for her to open his door. He somehow managed to extract himself from the car.


    "The luggage was delivered. It should be waiting for you," Dana said and she pushed through the door after using the code on her index finger.


    Jackson Marmy seemed depressed as he got into the elevator next to her. She had heard men on Earth were gentlemen, holding doors and such. For now, this guy was a terrible disappointment. Maybe he was too caught up in his mission or something.


    ***Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Jackson


    Jackson took in the small apartment that was supposed to be his quarters. Dana had seemed distant after he had frankly told him he wasn''t interested. He hated doing that, especially since he had noticed the youth trying hard to rein in his emotions after being rejected.


    Maybe he needed to explain himself. To let the guy know he wasn''t into guys. It was nothing personal. After all, for a guy, Dana was looking quite handsome, despite the fact that some of his traits were a tad too feminine. But no, he could not say that. He risked insulting the guy even more. And that he needed to avoid, seeing that his life depended on how sure the guy''s hand was on his weaponry in the case of an emergency.


    "Are you handy with those weapons?" he decided to make conversation as he opened his luggage and he began putting his clothes away in an empty closet, seeing that his bodyguard made no attempt to help him with that. After all, the guy was a guardian, not a personal servant.


    "Yeap," came the reply.


    "I would like to see a demonstration of that, later on, if that is possible," he said.


    Politeness usually worked on people. Jackson had thought himself the master of letting people down gently. Somehow, this guy was still miffed over being rejected, and Jackson had to make it all better. That was his job.


    "Sure," Dana shrugged. "Hey, want a beer?"


    Jackson should have protested, but when in Rome ...


    "Sure," he mimicked the other''s words.


    Dana opened a tall white cabinet. Apparently, the drinks were in there. That was good to know. The guy began looking and bent from the waist, as he rummaged through the contents of the cabinet. Jackson followed the nice shape of the young man¡¯s body with wide eyes. There were so many issues with this guy. Besides a pretty face, he had the curviest curves Jackson had ever seen. He stood there, paralyzed, feeling the need to swallow hard. It was not okay for a guy to have a body like that.


    "Hey, where are you looking?"


    That was enough to startle him and break the spell.


    "Nothing," he replied. "I mean, nowhere."


    "Nowhere?" Dana seemed pissed. "You were just checking me out."


    Jackson straightened up his clothes.


    "I was definitely not!"


    "And you said you weren''t interested just earlier!"


    "Oh, stop it already! I cannot be interested, all right?"


    That seemed to make the other young man relax.


    "Because of your job," Dana said, like he was trying to find an explanation.


    "Yes," Jackson jumped to the straw being handed to him. After all, it was the truth. He was not here to play with a barely out of his teens youngster who happened to be his bodyguard and the son of the most prominent foreman on the planet. Plus, he had never been attracted to a guy until now. Maybe the flight had done something to his hormonal balance. There had to be an explanation for the mess in his head. He turned quickly to hide his blushing cheeks.


    "Sorry, man, I understand," Dana spoke from behind him. "Maybe, when you''re finished with your mission, we could get together and have some fun."


    Jackson was pretty certain that was not going to happen. He hoped to be out of this hole soon and preferably without getting involved with anyone, particularly a young man who looked too much like a girl for his own good. For Jackson¡¯s good. Whatever. Yet, a little white lie could not hurt.


    "Sure," he replied.


    "He, he, it''s a date then," Dana giggled behind him.


    How was this guy surviving in this harsh world? Frankly, he seemed pretty sweet, Jackson thought. And, on a planet like Murario, sweet could not cut it.


    "I should get some rest," he said.


    "Sure, I''m in the studio apartment next to you," Dana said.


    "Next to me?!" Jackson asked, alarmed.


    "Well, for convenience," the guy explained.


    "And who is going to protect me if you''re not here?"


    "Man, it''s not like someone will get you in here."


    "You cannot know," Jackson became a little frightened. "I have no idea what kind of danger your father speaks about, and I am not willing to gamble with my life. You will stay here."


    "All right, I''ll take the couch in the living room," Dana replied quickly.


    Jackson knew that must have looked terribly convenient and the guy, being attracted to him and everything, saw an opportunity in this. But he had no means to know, and waiting for an escort from Earth was too remote a possibility to even consider. For now, this pretty boy was his bodyguard and that was it.


    "Good," he said shortly and he threw the tall hat on his bed.


    He began pulling at his tie, his mind filling with possibilities. Why was he here? Why was only one bodyguard assigned to him? Was this some kind of plot from which he was being left out?


    ***


    Dana


    Dana could not be happier. Okay, the guy was pretty strange and he was overreacting, but he was beautiful like a movie star. And he had just checked her out, and he wanted her to sleep in the same apartment with him.


    But man, he looked worried, as he was undressing. When he took off the small leather bond from his hair and shook the loose strands, Dana felt her jaw dropping again. And now he was taking off his shirt, showing creamy, perfect skin, while mumbling to himself. All right, he had a nice body, not too skinny, slender and graceful, with taut muscles everywhere. Now his hands were on his belt and ...


    "What are you doing?" she asked, realizing too late what was happening.


    "I need a shower," the guy explained while pushing his pants down.


    Okay, she was not ready for this. She turned and walked away. Isabella was going to call her a coward. Maybe she could sneak a peek? She gasped, when she saw him marching towards the bathroom in nothing but his birthday suit.


    "Could you please quit staring?" Jackson demanded impatiently. "A bit of privacy would be nice."


    She stormed out of the room. Okay, now she could tell Isabella she was not a coward. Only crazy.


    ***


    "Dana!"


    She jumped from the couch and hurried towards the bathroom. Jackson had an almost accusing look in his beautiful blue eyes as he stood in the door. To her relief and also regret, he wore a towel around his waist.


    "Could you please explain to me how is this old fashioned contraption supposed to work? It does not seem to take any verbal commands. Maybe I need to input my vocal print?"


    "Verbal commands? Yeah, right," Dana snorted. "No, you need to operate it manually. Right now, it will be lukewarm, at best."


    She passed by him and began fiddling with the faucet, making the water start to sprinkle.


    "Oh, thanks a lot," Jackson said happily.


    The bathroom was tiny, so Dana found herself caught between the sink and the blond as he passed by her to use the shower. She inhaled, despite her better judgment. He was taller than her by several inches, so she basically rubbed her nose involuntarily against his chest.


    She made a small sound of appreciation, and then froze on the spot. Jackson was staying still, too, almost pressing her against the sink. It was a good thing she had all the weapons on her. She seriously doubted she was going to resist having his naked chest pressed against her like that if she were to wear nothing but a t-shirt.


    He cupped one of her cheeks slowly and made her look up.


    "Dana," he said softly.


    She dared looking him in the eye. Okay, this was it, this was something just waiting to happen, and it was terribly dangerous. What if he was going to kiss her? She was going to melt on the spot, throw off all her clothes, and embarrass her dad by jumping an Earthian who also some sort of big shot.


    She moved her head away and laughed nervously.


    "Do you need anything else? Soap, towels, maybe someone to wash your back?"


    Oops, she had just gone and done it again. It was a good thing her skin was dark, like her mother''s. He was not going to be able to tell she was blushing like crazy.


    "Funny," he commented, but began laughing as he took off his towel and climbed into the shower.


    She swallowed hard while taking in the shapely muscles on his back. Was this man perfection? There was no flaw to complain about? Had he been made in a lab somewhere?


    "Hey," he called, while looking at her over his shoulder. "If you don''t want to double as a personal servant and have you wash my back," he drawled the words, "how about being a good little bodyguard and go sit somewhere while I finish here? Come, chop chop!"


    She almost stumbled on her way to the door. It was so painful to unglue her eyes from his long legs, and strong back on which blond hair ran like a golden waterfall.


    This time she promised herself she was not going to get caught with the guy in close quarters unless she needed to save his life. She chugged down her beer, and hoped he was never coming off that bathroom for as long as planets spun.


    ***


    Jackson


    Jackson sighed. The water was indeed just lukewarm. He had to do with what he was given. But that was not the only problem. Who would have thought that bad boy had such a soft side? Despite his forward gaze and straight words, he was as shy as deer in the woods. He had been forced to go hunting once. The thrill of the chase had gotten to him in the end, but he had let the deer go when he had caught it in his line of shooting. The poor animal had looked paralyzed.


    Not that Dana Drake was like deer or anything. Those damn soft lips were asking to be kissed. Jackson could not believe himself. He was hardly a defiler of innocents, with his lack of experience and everything. But, for a moment, he had wanted nothing more but to lean in and kiss those lips, and unravel the promise in them.


    Dana had been swift to dodge that. The boy''s simple reaction had made him instantly just want more the kiss to happen. And he was not into guys, what was wrong with him? Now he had to deal with a new shape of frustration growing inside him, and especially its physical manifestations were inconvenient.


    Dana''s cheeks were soft. The guy looked like he didn''t need to shave. He shook his head fast. What was he thinking? He could be in serious danger and all he could do was to let his body do the thinking instead?


    The problem was that he had found the boy''s reaction endearing, and now there was curiosity and hunger gnawing at him. He wanted nothing more but to discover how kissing Dana Drake felt like. And it was stupid and insane, because he had never acted on impulse ever since he had been appointed to act as negotiator aka entertainer for foreign commissaries most probably in need of comic relief, or something close.


    And Dana Drake was a guy, all right? Yes, he had never felt so drawn to someone so fast, and he had seen thousands of beautiful women in his life. Dana was like none of them. Of course, because he was a guy, but, for the sake of clarifying the situation, he needed to ignore that small inconvenience for now.


    First of all, he had never been particular to females with black hair. Women of all colors and shapes had passed through his radar, and he had been appreciative of them all. So it was not like Dana was catering to some preference he had. Also, short hair? Nah, he liked women with long hair, as a general rule. Plus, sexy undercuts were usually part of the outfit for retrograde punk artists. He could not recall ever listening to that kind of music.


    So, what was it? Dana''s face. He hummed. Yes, that was a damn pretty face. He wished he could clearly see the guy¡¯s eyes.


    All right, maybe everything was happening because Dana¡¯s preferences for guys. That had to be it, right? Dana liked guys, so it was natural for him to make himself appealing to other guys. This was how things worked, right? Maybe he had had some work done to make his lips full so full and ... kissable. But really, on Murario? People here didn''t have enough hot water. The idea of going under laser surgery for lip enlargement seemed ludicrous.


    So the guy was this pretty because he had been born this way. He clearly took after his mother. Hadrian Drake was nothing short of an ogre, although he could see some of the parent''s brazenness and good humor in the offspring, too.


    And, also, his body. Jackson still remembered the nice shape of that body. And his strong thighs looked nice, too, and his legs were long for someone this short. Jackson could not say anything about the rest, because the guy wore that oversize leather jacket. All those weapons had to weigh a ton, but Dana didn''t seem to mind.


    All right, he needed to clear his head and keep it that way. Dana could have the most kissable lips and the most attractive body in the universe, that didn''t change the fact that Jackson had to watch his back. Or the fact that he wasn''t, absolutely not, into guys.


    He got off the shower and quickly dried himself, pushing away the recent memory of how Dana had looked at his naked body, like he wanted to jump him on the spot. That wasn''t helping at all.


    He could not suppress a smile when he saw the youngster sleeping on the couch, still wrapped in his leather jacket, an empty bottle on the coffee table next to him. Jackson shrugged and turned on his heels. He needed to hit the hay, too. Yet, he could not bear leaving his mighty bodyguard sleep like that. He was going to wake up with a stiff neck in the morning.


    So he carefully untied the boy''s boots and placed them on the floor. Grabbing a pillow and a blanket from his bedroom, he gently made the young man move to rest his head properly. He had a mind to unwrap the guy from his leather jacket, but he felt like it was not his place to do that. Draping the sleeping guy in the blanket, he went to his bedroom.


    "Have nice dreams, Dana," he said to no one in particular, seeing that the boy was already fast asleep.


    ***


    Dana


    She opened her eyes as soon as she heard the door to his bedroom closing. She flexed her toes in delight and let out a small groan. No one was going to believe her, not even Isabella, that a guy like that had taken off her boots. She had been asleep only to that point, and faked being still, too afraid that he was going to stop touching her. She straightened up and took off her jacket and her vest, as well as her jeans. She was too hot to sleep with her clothes on. Her top and panties had to count as pajamas for now. Pulling the blanket over her shoulders, she murmured to no one in particular.


    "Sweet dreams, Jackson."


    And I hope you''ll dream of me, was what she wanted to add, but didn''t dare, because, come on, it was not like a guy like Jackson was going to dream about an ordinary girl like her, when he had probably dozens of female admirers at home. Women who were too beautiful to be real.


    That was her. She was real, and she was plain. Now without the hair, maybe even a little ugly. Yet, that didn''t stop her from falling asleep with a smile on her face and to dream of Jackson Marmy inviting her to dance like in one of those very very old movies, where the protagonists were sliding over polished floors dressed in luxurious clothes that might just have weighed a ton if they weren''t so vaporous. And she was even wearing one such dress in her dream, and Jackson was smiling, looking down to her, and complimenting her.


    "You''re pretty, so pretty," dream Jackson cooed into her ear.


    She woke up and limped towards the fridge to drink some cool water. Dream Jackson could have been more creative with compliments. It was just that had been the only compliment he had paid her, and her brain apparently had no idea about more inventive words of praise.


    The nights could be unpleasant. Eventually, she wrapped the blanket around her, so she could go back to sleep.


    TBC

 Chapter 3 – So What’s Your Type?

    Jackson


    Jackson groaned as the first rays of the Murario sun hit the windows. The nights were known to be a bit shorter than on Earth, and that was maybe a reason for the excessive dryness of the climate. He felt a little guilty about complaining about the lack of warm water, when people here had to fight more serious problems. It was not like he had gotten his beauty sleep, but he had no desire to rest more than strictly needed, seeing that he could be in quite a terrible situation without even knowing it too well.


    He needed to check if Dana was already awake. The guy needed to make good on his promise and show him how handy he was with those guns.


    He was about to call the guy out loud, but his words died in his throat as soon as he saw the boy sleeping half naked on the couch. That big round butt was barely covered by plain black underwear that stretched nicely over it. Jackson almost smashed one toe into a corner, as his eyes remained glued to that glorious sight. Okay, a guy was not supposed to have that kind of ass. He quickly turned and walked back into the bedroom. Only after taking care of his morning ritual of washing, brushing, and cleaning, he called again.


    "Dana, are you still asleep?"


    He hoped his voice was loud enough to wake up that sleeping beauty. Eventually, a sleepy voice replied.


    "Where is it burning?"


    "Are you decent? Can I come in?" he asked, as he adjusted his suit and took a critical look in the only small mirror in the room.


    "Decent? What do you mean? I saw you naked," the boy called in that brazen tone of his.


    "True enough, but I''d rather say it was completely accidental, and I wasn''t inviting you to watch. Also, I would like to be spared the sight of you in the buff first thing in the morning."


    There were long seconds of silence after that, but he could tell, by the rustling of clothes, that his bodyguard was dressing up. When Dana came into his room and nonchalantly headed for the bathroom, he paused.


    "Is this the only bathroom?"


    "Yeap, Your Highness, I''m sorry, but you''ll have to live with the idea of sharing a bathroom with me. Also, I need to brush my teeth, as otherwise, I might just damage you with my stinky morning breath. Right after you escaped the torture of seeing me naked," the boy added and slammed the door to the bathroom behind him.


    "You have no idea," Jackson grunted. Remembering that glorious ass dressed in nothing but thin cotton undies was not good for him.


    He decided to wait for Dana in the so called living room. He examined the content of the cabinet holding the food and decided to just skip breakfast for now. He was used to food prepared by chefs, but it was not his palate that was preventing him from eating what was readily available. He just had no idea how to eat what was there. Or what was edible.


    Dana returned after a few minutes with a miffed expression on his pretty face. He went to the food cabinet, grabbed something that looked like a bun and began eating. Jackson pretended to look away.


    "Aren''t you eating anything?" Dana asked.


    He hesitated. There was no need to act all knowingly when he was practically as far away from home as he had ever been.


    "I would like to, but your food is strange."


    All right, even he knew that must have sounded like an insult. But, to his surprise, Dana rummaged through the cabinet and offered him a bun just like what he was eating.


    "Here. My friend says that it''s pretty much like what you call a sandwich on Earth. Only that it''s all combined."


    "Thank you," Jackson took the bun and sank his teeth in it. "Wow, this is really good," he said appreciatively.


    "Well, my dad says that I got the recipe spot on. I like making a bunch of them, so I can eat them over a few days."


    "You ... made this?" Jackson pointed at the bun with an incredulous look on his face.


    ***


    Dana


    Damn, wasn''t he a little prick? Dana thought as Jackson was holding the food like it was some foreign object. Of course, on Earth, no one cooked. She had heard that only robots cooked there. Women were way too emancipated for that. But she liked cooking, and she was not going to start feeling ashamed because of that.


    "If you don''t like it, don''t eat it," she made a move to grab the food from his hand.


    He withdrew with a hungry look on his face.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Who says I don''t like it?" he glared at her and took a mouthful, his eyes never leaving hers. "It''s just that I didn''t picture you like someone who would cook. Are you studying to become a chef?"


    Dana guffawed. If he was genuine, he was a precious thing. And if he was not, he was at least funny.


    "No, I''m just ... I like to do that once in a while. Wait, what kind of person do you think I am?"


    He shrugged.


    "I don''t know, the badass type. You know, all bang bang and boom boom,¡± he said, while making a small gesture as he was cocking a gun. ¡°Like in action movies."


    "Really?" she smiled at him. "Do you think I''m a badass?"


    "You''re wearing a ton of weapons on you. Of course you are. So, you must forgive me if I could not picture you in a white apron, trying sauces and experimenting with fusion cooking."


    "You speak a bit funny."


    "Well, if I''m funny, that means you''re entertained and, if that is the case, than you have forgiven me."


    "Forgive you? For what?"


    "For being rude to you earlier."


    "Are you always like this? Sorry about things? Afraid you might hurt someone''s feelings?"


    "I suppose. My job is to ensure everyone''s happy."


    For someone with such a job, there was a pretty serious look on his face when he said that. Dana shook her head.


    "Just eat," she said, but she could not stop smiling, as she stole glances in his direction, secretly enjoying the small sounds of delight he made as he ate her food.


    "Thank you for the meal," he pressed his palms together and bowed slightly.


    "You''re welcome," she replied, feeling embarrassed with his reaction and not wanting to let him know she was affected by his behavior. "Let''s go. You wanted to see my weapons in action, right?"


    "Yes, definitely," he took a handkerchief out of his chest pocket and patted his lips.


    Dana wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.


    "Are you going to prance around, dressed up like this?" she pointed at his clothes.


    He looked drop dead gorgeous in his clothes. And that was a problem.


    "What''s wrong with the way I''m dressed?" he asked, a small frown on his face.


    "You''re too flashy," she shrugged and added, seeing that he seemed not to understand the concept. "You''re like one of those birds in a thousand colors."


    "But I''m wearing black!" he replied, throwing his arms to the sides in a theatrical gesture.


    "It must be your personality," she said wryly, still salty over the fact that he considered seeing her naked some kind of punishment he didn''t want to be subjected to. Really, for a guy whose job was to make people feel good, he was doing a shitty job. Not all the time, though, but, whatever.


    "I can hardly change that!" he protested. "What do you suggest?"


    "We should dress you up in something more appropriate. You look like a character from a 19th century book."


    "So give me some of your clothes," he said quickly.


    "Yeah, right," she snorted. "We''re not the same size."


    "Yes, you''re short."


    She had no idea why but that rubbed her the wrong way, so she got into his face and tried to stare him down somehow. Jackson didn¡¯t look impressed.


    "Then that''s too bad, because I think the only thing in my closet that would fit you is a dress," she said.


    Now his eyes grew wide and he gulped nervously.


    "Do you have a dress in your closet?" he asked.


    "What? Is it so impossible to picture me wearing a dress?"


    He hesitated for a second.


    "Is that a trick question?" he asked again, and the worst part was that he seemed serious about it.


    She groaned and buried her face into the balls of her fists.


    "I''ll see what I can do."


    She flicked open her phone.


    "Hi, Bella, yeap, it''s little ol me. Hey, do you still have your brother''s old clothes somewhere? No time to explain. I''m like on a mission or something. My dad asked me to. Thanks a bunch. Who''s awesome? You''re awesome. Kisses!"


    The look on Jackson''s face was priceless when she cut off her convo with Isabella.


    "What?" she snapped.


    "Do you have a girlfriend?" he blurted out.


    "Isabella? Well, she''s a friend, and she''s a girl, so I suppose you can call her that. Wait, are you asking me if I''m like ... you know, with her?"


    "Nonsense," he turned and pretended to examine very carefully an old book left on a shelf.


    "Wait," she giggled. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you like jealous or something?"


    "Me? Jealous?"


    ***


    Jackson


    Well, he was. Dana had seemed pretty close with that girl on the phone. What was the nature of their relationship? And wasn''t the young man not into girls anyway? Maybe he swung both ways. He wasn''t judging. On Earth, people were all the colors possible, not only of the rainbow. But he was just a bit conservative when it came to this. No matter how much he needed to display himself when meeting foreign commissaries, he was into women and women only. And Dana, apparently. Which was pretty annoying. Especially since the guy seemed the type to play the field. So he felt the need to be a little obnoxious.


    "Does she know?" he asked, averting the discussion from his supposed jealousy.


    "Know what?"


    "That you''re hitting on guys. Is she okay with that?"


    "Isabella?" the boy asked like he couldn¡¯t understand the question. "Of course she''s okay with that. Actually, she can barely wait for me to get some of that," he added.


    He looked at the other utterly shocked. But while his words had seemed daring, Dana''s cheeks were in flames and very much visible, despite his dark complexion.


    "Oh," Jackson replied. "So I''m some sort of experiment for you?"


    "Don''t flatter yourself," the young man snorted. "You''re so not my type."


    "Do you have a type? What is it?"


    ***


    Dana


    Blond, tall, and Earthian, she wanted to yell at him. Instead, she chose to lie. It was not like he was interested in her anyway.


    "I don''t know. Someone who knows how to throw a punch," she shrugged.


    Jackson stiffened.


    "So you think I cannot throw a punch?"


    "I''ll believe it when I see it," she replied. "Stay right here. I''m going to get clothes for you. Don''t do anything stupid."


    "Like what?"


    "Like starting to roam around on your own. Who knows why may happen to a pretty boy like you."


    "Dana Drake, you''re a pain in the ass and I don''t like you," he said squarely and turned his back on her.


    "Wow, where is the guy saying his job is to make everyone feel good?" she spat.


    "I suppose I could, but with a porcupine like you, I suppose that''s impossible."


    "A what?!"


    "Or a hedgehog. Something with spikes. But still cute. Yet vicious."


    She was lucky he was turned away from her. Dana felt like choking on her own words. How could he insult her and compliment her at the same time?


    "Now go fetch me those clothes. Come on, shoo," he spoke again.


    "I''m not your servant," she hissed.


    "It''s your idea to change my clothes. I can go out like this. After all, a pretty boy like me can count on a badass bodyguard like you to fend off any attacks, right?"


    She mumbled under her breath and made sure to slam the door hard behind her. She hated Jackson Marmy like she never hated anyone. But she also wanted to kiss him for calling her pretty and cute. How could he speak like that and still act like such an airhead around her?


    ***


    Isabella was waiting in front of the building. She opened the trunk of her car.


    "Here is everything. I hope you''ll find something. I hope they''re not for you, though. You know Frank is pretty tall."


    "No, not for me, for a guy."


    "A guy? Wait, what guy? Do you have someone over, Dana Drake? And you dare keeping your mouth shut?"


    Isabella pushed her ginger hair out of her face, just to show how irritated she was with all of Dana''s secrecy. But her green eyes were all a sparkle.


    "Quit it," Dana murmured, but her lips quirked into a smile. "It''s not what you think. It''s a job I took for dad. It''s this asshole I need to take care of. And his clothes are stupid."


    Isabella put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.


    "How much of an asshole is he? Wait, why are you smiling? What are you hiding from me?"


    "Ha, ha, you should see your face," Dana guffawed. "Really, I cannot tell you. It''s only because it''s work. There''s nothing I want more but to gossip with you about this guy."


    "But didn''t you say he''s an asshole? Why waste your breath on him?"


    "Because he''s a sexy asshole, that''s why," Dana replied, while grabbing some clothes that seemed that would fit the sexy asshole.


    "Wow, now I''m tingling all over," Isabella got excited. "Where is he from?"


    Dana hesitated. Suddenly, she got a hold of herself. She had promised his dad.


    "What''s the matter?" Isabella sensed her change of attitude.


    Dana looked around, having a sudden bout of foreboding. The street seemed a bit too quiet for her taste.


    "I''ll take these, okay?" she grabbed the clothes. "Talk to you later, Bella."


    Her friend embraced her, now quiet as well.


    "Take care, D, alright?" she said affectionately and smooched her cheek.


    "I always do."


    She followed her friend''s car with her eyes, and not because there was a reason to watch Bella leave. She was waiting for a move. When nothing happened, she went back to her apartment.


    TBC

 Chapter 4 – So … Friends?

    Dana


    "So you''re still telling me there is nothing between you and that girl?" Jackson seemed miffed as he stood by the window when she came back. "I saw you two kissing."


    Dana''s sixth sense kicked in with the speed of light. She could not say what it was. Maybe the sense of foreboding from earlier. Maybe because somehow she knew these things. She grabbed Jackson and threw him on the floor, landing on top of him. He was about to open his mouth and protest when the window blew up in smithereens.


    He was white as paper when the ruckus died off. She forced him to his feet and pushed him inside the bathroom. Quickly, she opened her jacket and the first thing she did was to throw two nets, one for the entrance door and one for the window closest to them. She had no idea which way they could be coming.


    "What on Earth was that?" Jackson asked from behind her.


    "Duck and stay there," she said thinly. "And flash news, Jackson, you''re not on Earth anymore."


    To her relief, he chose to remain silent and stay there. With sure gestures, she put together her twin pistols.


    "What do I do?" Jackson whispered. "You have like those big-ass weapons and I have nothing," he added.


    "How about you stay there quietly, and let me do my job? You don''t know one thing about weapons, anyway."


    But she had to give him something to do. The wait was making her nervous enough, without him fretting behind her like that.


    "You, change your clothes," she pushed the bundle left on the floor towards him.


    She heard rustling of clothes as he was following her hushed order.


    The door opened like it was pushed out of its hinges by a powerful wind and a tube grenade ricocheted against the net. Good call, Dana, she congratulated herself, smirking as she heard the screams of pain in the hallway.


    "Serves you right, suckers," she said under her breath.


    "Goodness gracious, what are those screams?" Jackson whispered from behind her.


    "Are you dressed up yet? And that''s the sound of your enemies dying. Rejoice," she added quickly.


    She pointed her pistols slowly towards the door. Now she was going to see how stupid or clever they were. As a black shape flew through the unprotected window, Dana could tell they were at least average in terms of intellectual capacity. They took the gamble on her having only two shielding nets. She smirked as she quickly changed the direction of her guns and released one full charge of bullets into the intruder.


    Her smile died when the intruder got to his feet and came straight at her. She threw the pistols and grabbed her mini-shotgun to fire one blast straight into his chest. The stranger fell to the floor, but there was no flaming gape in the middle of his chest, as she expected. He moved again, although more slowly.


    When the black shape grabbed her by the neck and slammed her onto the wall, she swore she saw green stars. The grip around her throat was closing in fast. Just when the world was turning black and red in front of her eyes, she felt air entering her lungs and she was dropped to the floor.


    She heard a swish like sound and fell to the ground. Groaning, she tried to get to her feet. Her vision was slowly coming back to her and what she saw made her think, for a moment, that she was hallucinating because of the lack of oxygen to her brain.


    The intruder was on the floor, and one of his arms was twisted in what looked like death like grip. And the person holding his arm like that was no one other but Jackson Marmy, her Earthian charge, seemingly gone berserk, as he kicked the stranger on the floor in the legs and in the ribs with his boots.


    Of course, she thought as she tried to regain her breath. The intruder''s suit was made to repel bullets, but it was not foolproof against the use of physical force. Those who were trying to kill Jackson Marmy knew his bodyguard was a girl, and they knew they didn''t have to worry too much about engaging in hand to hand combat. Apparently, they had ignored the wild factor, and that was that Jackson Marmy was not as soft as they thought.


    "Break his fucking arm," she yelled at Jackson.


    The Earthian stopped and looked at her.


    She pushed herself to her feet, despite the burning sensation in her lungs. She kicked the enemy¡¯s stretched arm held by Jackson hard, satisfied with hearing the bone cracking and with the inhuman yell that followed.


    "Are there any others?" she yelled at the form on the ground, and continued to kick him.


    "No, no, please!" the intruder said through loud sobs.


    She kicked him again.


    "Think again!"


    Jackson placed an arm on her shoulder.


    "He''s saying the truth," he spoke in a shaken voice.


    "We cannot know," she said, and kicked the intruder again.


    "We can," Jackson said, this time firmly, and she stopped, hearing the commandeering tone of his voice.


    There was something akin to steel in his beautiful blue eyes that was telling her he knew what he was talking about. She stopped.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    "We need to extract information now," she said, feeling a bit embarrassed now. ¡°Before others come.¡±


    Jackson took a look at the maimed shaped of a human on the floor. Dana watched him. Did Earthians have some specialized means to extract information? Well, Jackson looked like an airhead most of the time, but apparently he had some kind of training, so probably he had other aces up his sleeve.


    She looked at the enemy crumpled on the floor and she felt her blood run stale. Pushing Jackson through the bathroom door, she managed to throw both of them to the floor and activate the shield just in time. The breath of explosion blew over them like a ghastly wind.


    The poor fellow in the other room didn¡¯t even have time to scream. Well, maybe he deserved it. But the truth was he had been betrayed by whoever had sent him. Or maybe he had known all along. The thought was giving her the chills. Who could be so desperate to kill Jackson Marmy that was sending people on suicide missions after him?


    Her father had never downplayed the importance of this mission when he had told her she was going to be in charge of protection for some sort of a negotiator sent to Murario from Earth. But it was obvious he had no idea how serious the situation was. She needed to get in touch with him and as soon as possible. No matter how much of a badass bodyguard she liked to think she was, this was more than she could handle.


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re crushing me,¡± Jackson¡¯s strained voice startled her.


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not that heavy,¡± she tried to blanket the anxiety in her voice with a joke.


    ¡°You might not be, but the ton of weaponry you have on you is.¡±


    It was easy to forget he was from another place. Not that he didn¡¯t look every bit like he didn¡¯t belong there, but because she felt quite comfortable around him. Yes, people on Earth probably didn¡¯t carry tons of weapons around. So, they were not accustomed to the extra weight.


    She moved away and helped Jackson to his feet.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± he asked her, grabbing her shoulders.


    All right, maybe she was not okay, but that was not something he needed to know. Her dad had left Jackson in her care. She was not going to break like one of the teary heroines, clutching at their handkerchiefs in those old Earthian books.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, stop being such a mother hen,¡± she shrugged his touch, although she loved how warm his hands felt there. ¡°And I should be asking you the same question.¡±


    ¡°Well, what was that?¡± he evaded the question.


    Funny. Like he was trying to be brave for her or something. He was obviously scared out of his wits, his eyes darting toward the bathroom door, like he knew somehow the horror scene on the other side, was waiting for them, the unwilling witnesses.


    ¡°That was the perp being blown to high heavens,¡± she put on her brave face, too.


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said.


    Jackson was white as a paper. Dana could bet he hadn¡¯t seen too many blown up people on Earth. Unlike her. The mines often claimed lives and she had seen plenty of death, just like anyone else. Clementium didn¡¯t truly deserve its name; there was no clemency in how it took lives. Some deposits were encased in small pouches of gas, and less seasoned miners sometimes made the mistake of using improper equipment or were too impatient in their tries to get it out. By all means, Dana had seen plenty of that. But Jackson hadn¡¯t.


    ¡°Hey,¡± she touched his arm gently.


    He blinked as he looked at her.


    ¡°It won¡¯t be a pretty sight when we¡¯ll get out of here. Just try not to look ...  anywhere,¡± she said with a sigh.


    ¡°Roger that,¡± he said firmly. ¡°But please tell me you are okay.¡±


    Of course, she was in charge of his protection, so he needed to assess the situation. It was normal, really.


    ¡°Yeah, I am. And ...  thanks for before. You saved my ass,¡± she admitted.


    A sigh of relief was the only reply. What was that about? Had he really been worried about her? Nah, that couldn¡¯t be.


    ¡°You know, maybe I should put some cover over your eyes or something,¡± she offered.


    ¡°I am not that squeamish,¡± he said through his teeth.


    ¡°Suit yourself, then,¡± Dana shrugged.


    ***


    Jackson


    Yes, he was THAT squeamish. But he didn¡¯t want to lose face in front of the other guy. Dana had behaved like a true bodyguard. Except that Dana could not help being short and inferior in strength to that particular assailant, Jackson thought, as he walked through the room, trying hard to ignore the carnage painting every wall.


    It was like the assassins knew what to expect. A shorty in charge of protecting an Earth emissary. That was definitely fishy. Don¡¯t think of that word, he chided himself, feeling bile rising in his throat. He could well ignore looking around, but pretending he could not smell anything either was close to impossible.


    He took one big gulp of air once they were out of the building, leaving those ghastly images behind them.


    ¡°Hey,¡± his bodyguard punched him in the shoulder playfully. ¡°You know how to fight, eh?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not bad yourself,¡± he said back, enjoying, for a second, how Dana pouted. ¡°But how did you know? That he was going to explode?¡± he quickly asked.


    ¡°There was a certain smell coming off that guy. Typically, no one should be able to sense it. But I can. People say that I have a gift. You won¡¯t catch me dead in some gas chamber ready to blow. Get it?¡± Dana kicked him in the ribs now, like he was telling some cool joke, and Jackson had to laugh.


    It was like the guy was trying to cheer him up, although he had a lousy sense of humor. Jackson squared his shoulders. He had no intention to look weaker than he already was.


    ¡°So, where to now? It¡¯s clear that we cannot go back to our place,¡± he pointed over his shoulder at the building. At their floor, grey mist was still pouring through the window. ¡°Hey, how come there¡¯s no one else?¡±


    ¡°That? The building is mostly unoccupied. We generally move as we discover new sources of clementium. And people are leaving this place to move, too. Dad thought you would be better somewhere away from crowded areas.¡±


    ¡°Not like that seemed such a good idea, in retrospect,¡± he noticed, his voice as dry as paper.


    ¡°No need to rub it in,¡± Dana pursed his lips, and Jackson looked at the guy again, feeling like he should not have stared, but couldn¡¯t help it. ¡°Wait, you don¡¯t think he has anything to do with this, do you?¡± the bodyguard grabbed his arm and forced Jackson to look down at him.


    He was annoyed that he could not clearly make the guy¡¯s eye color through the tinted glass.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to think at this point,¡± he shrugged the other off. ¡°For all I know, you can be one of them.¡±


    Dana took a step back like he had just been slapped.


    ¡°Really? After I almost sacrificed myself to save your ass?¡±


    ¡°Technically, that¡¯s your job,¡± Jackson said and tried to straighten up his jacket that obviously had belonged to a larger fellow.


    ¡°Yeah, technically,¡± Dana mumbled and turned on his heels.


    Jackson hurried after him. He caught Dana¡¯s arm and forced him to turn to face him again.


    ¡°Look, I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m not used to being the target for assassins on suicide missions. The first time in my life when that happens,¡± he said a little too brightly.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Dana said. ¡°Okay, I forgive you. This time. And my dad is not a traitor.¡±


    Jackson could feel the gears in his head starting to turn. That happened to him sometime. He heard one word and the next thing, something was happening, and a trail of thought was born out of nowhere.


    ¡°Traitor?¡± he mumbled.


    ¡°Such a good thing you¡¯re pretty,¡± Dana joked. ¡°You¡¯re definitely slow.¡±


    He was nothing but slow at this point. He stood there, frozen, as his mind did that trick thing.


    ¡°Dana, what¡¯s the usual, let¡¯s say, attitude towards Earthians around here?¡± he asked promptly.


    His bodyguard shrugged as they started moving again.


    ¡°Your planet is far away. What can I say? You guys have the stupidest shows on broadcast. You have it easy. We have it hard. It¡¯s not like we love you too much, I guess.¡±


    ¡°So, your dad doesn¡¯t have any loyalties towards me or anyone from Earth?¡±


    Dana slowed down.


    ¡°What are you trying to say?¡± the bodyguard frowned again.


    ¡°I¡¯m not saying your father is a traitor. I¡¯m just saying that he could not be that.¡±


    ¡°Really, man. Have you been home schooled or something? Your logic is messed up.¡±


    ¡°Home schooled?¡± Jackson shook his head. ¡°Whatever. I have no idea from where you came up with that. But hear me out. Your dad is the head of the miners, right? So he¡¯s loyal towards them.¡±


    ¡°Correct,¡± Dana shrugged.


    ¡°So what would he care about me, an Earthian?¡±


    ¡°Because you were placed in his care, duh,¡± Dana replied, as if Jackson was soft in the head.


    ¡°Who placed me in his care?¡±


    ¡°Your people. I don¡¯t know names. I tend to doze off when people are droning about stupid useless things around me.¡±


    Dana was still a little pissed, it seemed.


    ¡°If I was betrayed by someone, that someone wasn¡¯t your father,¡± Jackson continued his argument.


    ¡°So that leaves ¡­¡± Dana mumbled.


    ¡°Yes. Who else knew I was here?¡± Jackson said simply.


    ¡°Damn. You can¡¯t be serious.¡±


    ¡°My people or your people. It¡¯s simple, really.¡±


    ¡°So how come you don¡¯t suspect us more?¡± Dana questioned.


    ¡°I somehow doubt your father would have put your life in danger,¡± Jackson replied.


    ***


    Dana


    Wow, that was something meant to leave her with one big open mouth, wondering how she could not figure it out. On Murario, only her dad and she knew about Jackson being there. But, on the other side, the Earthian side, there must have been quite a crowd seeing Jackson out. And yes, the annoying handsome Earthian was right. Her dad would never put her in harm¡¯s way.


    ¡°Then shit just got real,¡± she mumbled to herself.


    ¡°You can say that again,¡± Jackson said with a sigh. ¡°I knew something was wrong when I left. They tell me I must be put to the test. Yeah, what a nice test they got ready for me.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s just one thing,¡± Dana spoke again. ¡°That guy, the one who blew all over the place, he wasn¡¯t Earthian.¡±


    ¡°How can you tell? He seemed pretty much like you and me. Although we never saw his face.¡±


    Dana tapped against her nose.


    ¡°He didn¡¯t smell Earthian to me.¡±


    ¡°You and your hunting dog instincts,¡± Jackson rolled his eyes.


    ¡°Hey, are you calling me a dog?¡± she protested.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I won¡¯t say you¡¯re a cute dog. You¡¯re one big, badass, guard dog or something,¡± Jackson said with a small smile.


    ¡°So I¡¯m not cute?¡± she frowned.


    He put up his palms in surrender.


    ¡°Look, I was wrong to tease you. You¡¯re obviously an excellent bodyguard. You just saved me from an assassination attempt. So I take back all the teasing, okay? You¡¯re not cute, and you do look your age. Plus, you¡¯re a badass. That I didn¡¯t lie about. Okay?¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± she sighed.


    So she was not cute after all. Damn you, Jackson Marmy!


    ¡°Plus, at this moment, you¡¯re my one and only friend. I¡¯m counting on you, buddy,¡± he patted her on the shoulder.


    Great. Now she was friendzoned, too.


    TBC