Mr. Shaddo

By Mitch Wagner

When the alien Lord Svet hired Shaddo to steal a gladiator known as the Purple Avenger, Shaddo thought he could get in, get out, and get paid.

It didn't work out that way.

He didn’t expect to run afoul of the Emperor Na-Ret – really more of a gangster than a monarch, but don’t tell HIM that – or find himself fighting the Purple Avenger in a cage match over a tank of hungry bloodworms.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mitch Wagner
• Release date: Sep 2, 2012

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MR. SHADDO

By Mitch Wagner

Published by Mitch Wagner at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 by Mitch Wagner

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Mr. Shaddo

Also by Mitch Wagner: The Biggest Man in Lilliput

Acknowledgments

Author’s Note

About the Author

MR. SHADDO

Svet’s elegant host-body looked like money. He stood poised and uncertain as a debutante at the door of Tiny’s Saloon, peering into the gloom and the haze of smoke. He looked past the bar patrons, mostly Froggies wiping each others’ skins with sponges soaked in alcohol and arguing theology. His eyes located me after a few moments and he relaxed visibly.

Svet crossed the bar looking like he didn’t want to touch anything, not even the soles of his expensive, gloved feet on the filthy floor, and took a seat at the table in the back corner where I often held business meetings.

I was sitting at the table already, drinking some beer echoed from dynastic Egypt. Ancient Egyptians brewed the best beer.

Mr. Shaddo, I understand you're in the property retrieval business, he said to me with a little, conspiratorial smile.

I took a long pull on my cigarette, and let the smoke out of my mouth slowly for effect. You could say that.

Svet winked. I have some personal property I wish to have reclaimed. It's definitely my property, nothing I want you to steal, of course.

Smooth, I said. If there was a cop listening in, he'd never guess you want me to steal something.

Svet looked crestfallen. Literally. The body he wore had a big blue crest at the top, and it fell. He hunched his shoulders and looked around furtively.

Svet hissed, Do you think we're being watched by the police?

I doubt it, I said. We don’t get any cops in here unless they’re after free booze. What do you need me to get?

Svet composed himself.

The ... property of mine I wish ... reclaimed is a host-body, he said.

Like the one you're wearing now.

Nothing like the one I'm wearing now. This host-body, he said, and gestured with a long, elegant arm, is a mount suitable for a gentleman such as myself to wear on business around town. The body I wish reclaimed is a gladiator.

A fighter. I made boxing motions with my fists.

Just so. The elegant head nodded once again.

And who's got the gladiator?

The Purple Avenger.

I gave him a look. The look said: Huh?

Svet explained: That is the name of the gladiator host-body. The Purple Avenger.

So who's got him?

My cousin.

Who's your cousin? I was getting annoyed.

Oh, forgive me, I thought even a human would know. My cousin is Na-Ret. King Na-Ret XII, Emperor of all the Burmachi in the City Between.

This emperor business was less impressive than it sounds. The Burmachi are long on titles, short on actual substance. Na-Ret was head of the Burmachi community in the City Between. He had a lot of money, and a few tens of thousands of subjects, which made him formidable, but hardly an emperor.

So how did your cousin get a hold of the, uh, what did you call it again?

The Purple Avenger. My cousin stole the gladiator from me in a combat match. He cheated.

I waved it off. I didn’t care whether Svet’s cousin cheated. Where is the Avenger now?

My cousin maintains a menagerie for his gladiators and other sport host-bodies at the Burmachi Palace a few miles outside the city. All we need to do is get out there, collect the Avenger and then bring him back.

I suppose your cousin has security.

Nothing a master like you can’t defeat.

I'll look into that myself. If the deal looks good, then I'll do it.

Svet paid cash, half up