Polar Opposites

A word about Ajiin.  He was made first mate not on his skills as a sailor, but on his ability to order people around and follow the command of people younger than him.  Thirty-seven years old, slender with incredibly agility and balance, shoulder-length red-brown hair and gray eyes.  About all the twins knew about him is that he used to be a mercenary, specializing in sniper, before agreeing to come along with them on the Ark.  The crew had a rumor that he was trained as an assassin, but when asked, Ajiin had just laughed until he cried.  The twins had met him when Ajiin had punched someone who was heckling Langley with catcalls in one of the dockside taverns.



Langley was the first one to set foot on the dock, followed quickly by Sabreur and Ajiin.  He had been giving some last minute orders to the crew.  Then the three exchanged glances, and Langley set off towards the man standing at the end of the dock.

“How many others?” Ajiin asked softly.

“Uh, quite a few.”

“We’ll be fine.”  He sounded unconcerned, but Ajiin always sounded confident in situations where panic would be a more appropriate reaction.

The three drew to a stop before the man.  He was short with a potbelly and a poorly groomed beard.  Langley wrinkled her nose at the smell of cheap ale.

“This here be my dock,” he said coarsely, “and you be paying a toll to use it.”

“Fine, fine, how much?”

“200 argid.”

“Extortion!” Sabreur snapped.

“Then find another port town around here.”

Langley opened her mouth to speak, but Ajiin carefully put a hand on her shoulder and she closed it again.

“Rem, you really think you can get away with those prices still?  They’ll run ya out of town.”

The man tilted his head, as if trying to remember something.  Scratched his beard.  Then his eyes lit up in comprehension.

“Ah!  Now I know you – that smart-ass mercenary that came around here a coupl’a years ago.”

“Ajiin, dare I ask what it was you did to make them remember you from that long ago?” Langley asked weakly.

“We don get much strangers round here, missie.  That’s why dock toll is so high – c’mon kids – nobody comes to the poles.  Just pay up so I can make a living.”

Sabreur muttered something under his breath, pulled out coin and counted out the fee.

“Two conditions – “he said, “ – you keep the locals away from our skimmer and you don’t ever call Langley and I kids again.”

“Certainly, sir, quite acceptable.”

He took the money and stalked off.  Ajiin just shook his head and sighed.

“Coulda gotten a better price.”

“Not worth the trouble,” Sabreur replied.

“Why didn’t you ask him to not call me missie as well?” Langley muttered darkly under her breath and shoving her hands in her pockets, started off towards the town.



Ajiin led them to one of the two taverns the town boasted.  From what he said, the two were in constant competition that sometimes erupted into violence when the drunken patrons of one got riled up enough to storm the other in a massive brawl that spilled out into the streets.  Judging from what Ajiin said, most anything that happened in the town could result in a brawl.  For once, Langley was glad that Sabreur’s firebombs were so effective in disrupting fights.

The interior of the tavern was well lit, clean, and a roaring fire cast a warm glow across the tables and chairs.  A small group was playing cards near the fireplace.

“Welcome newcomers!” boomed the bartender, a large man that probably doubled as the bouncer, “You look shocked.  Expecting dark and dingy, weren’t we?”

“Well, yes,” Langley admitted.

Ajiin just laughed and walked over to the bar and took a seat on one of the stools.

“Hey, got some of your good ale still?”

The man looked down and squinted at Ajiin.  Again, that look, as if trying to remember something.  This time though, there was only blank confusion instead of the dawning realization.  Ajiin saw it too, and with a sigh, pulled the band of his ponytail off and shook his hair loose across his shoulders.  Langley blinked.  

“Oi!  The mercenary!”

“Thought the gun would be a dead give-away,” Ajiin replied with a grim smile, “But yes, it’s me.  Ale?”

“On the house!  Bring your friends over and they can have some too!”

“I drink tea…?” Langley said weakly, but her protest was lost and she found herself seated on a stool between her brother and first mate, staring at the mug with a look of suspicion.

“Alright, sir, you have to explain this to us,” Sabreur said after the bartender finished serving them, “you see, Ajiin here usually answers in monosyllables and it’s very hard to piece together anything about his past from ‘eh’ and ‘meh’.”

“Meh,” Ajiin grunted.

By this time, the card players in the corner had taken an interest.  Langley squirmed as they started to form a crowd behind the trio.

“Yep, that’s about right,” one of them said and Langley turned to face him, “That’s the mercenary, alright.”

“Pardon me?  Does everyone in this town know Ajiin?”

“Yes,” Ajiin replied, and took a big swallow of ale.

“Amazing.  Most we’ve gotten out of him all week,” Sabreur commented.

“Please, tell us why?”  Langley slipped her hat off and laid it on the counter.  This would probably be a very confusing story, judging from how many people were wanting to tell it.

“Oi, stop crowding the kids!” the bartender barked and Sabreur closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Back off, you lot.  I’ll tell the story.”

The men found seats within earshot and the bartender composed himself.  Ajiin seemed intent on his ale and nothing else.

“Years ago, think it was three or four-“

“Four!” a spectator called.

“Shuddup you!  Anyways, four years ago we were having some trouble with the Cadre.  Specifically, one of their rejects.  Some ‘mancer had gotten himself booted out for some thing or another and fled to the south pole.  Well, we were happy to welcome him, being lacking in ‘mancers round here and all, but turns out he’s got in his head a notion that he’s a big shot cause he’s ex-Cadre.”

“Caused a lotta trouble.”

“Killed some people in fights and all.”

“Shuddup!  I’m talking.  Anyways, we couldn’t get rid of him cause, well, he’s trained ‘mancer.  So this skimmer comes in through the ice maze to deliver a good batch of… Ajiin, are these two law-abiding?”

“Mostly.”

“Than I’ll spare details.  Anyways, Ajiin was aboard as a hired guard for the cargo.  Merchant rightly didn’t trust the crew.  They unloaded and stayed a couple ‘a days.  Ex-Cadre ‘mancer gets it in his head to confiscate a portion of the cargo for his own use.”

“So the mercenary here shot him.  Right between the eyes!”

“No, get the story right,” Ajiin said, still gazing into his ale, “He bullied everyone around, took his ‘cut’, and I climbed up to the top deck and shot him in the back from long-range.  And then everyone in town made double sure he was dead and I got the cargo back that I was supposed to guard.”

“Right!  That!”

The bartender beamed at the twins, the twins stared at Ajiin, and Ajiin stared at his ale.

“Right,” Langley said softly.

There was silence between the three.  The bartender coughed uncomfortably, and shuffled aside to see if the card players wanted more drink.  They did.

“Ajiin,” Langley began, “Maybe you should have let us know beforehand at some point…”

“Eh.”

“Ajiin!”

She took a deep breath to begin a tirade about the value of being forewarned and informed when a commotion from the kitchen interrupted.  Everyone in the tavern froze and grumbling, the bartender stalked back towards the door.  A young boy came flying out, cursing, and dove under the nearest table.  Some more noises.  And then, a rasping squawk that sounded vaguely familiar.

“Langley, was that…” Sabreur began.

“… a penguin?  I believe so,” she finished.

A door opened, more squawking, furious now, and then the door slammed shut.  The bartender came back out, dusting his hands.

“Right, it’s gone now.  Get back to work.”

The boy slunk out from under the table and vanished into the kitchen.

“Uh, sir,” Langley said, “That was a penguin.”

“A zombie penguin,” he grunted, “become a right nuisance they have.  Ever since they figured out we can’t really do much to them they’ve been into everything.  About traumatized my cook.”

The twins exchanged glances.

“You wouldn’t know where these things are coming from, would you?”

“Not me personally.  But I heard rumor that Guv does.  He comes around in the evening.  You can talk to him then.  Why you interested?”

“It’s an undead penguin,” she replied flatly.

“Point.  Well, if you can think of a way to get rid of the beasties, we’d be right grateful.”

There was a long stretch of silence in which Langley tried to take a sip of the ale.  She choked on it, sputtered, and slid off the stool to lie on the floor gasping.

“Yanno,” Sabreur said thoughtfully, “I believe zombies are flammable.  And from my sister’s reaction, you have strong enough ale here to make molotov cocktails.  You could always try that.”

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