Tales of Mack 'n' Me: C.M.'s Collections, #8

By C.M. Simpson

Stow-away, Odyssey agent, trouble-maker, rogue, Cutter's life's been interesting no matter which way you slice it—and now it's been put into chronological order so you can see what piece of mischief occurred when, in relation to the bigger adventures covered in the novels. From sassing Odyssey's deadliest agent to rescuing stolen children or retrieving missing crewmates from their kidnappers, Cutter's lived a complicated existence, and it doesn't look like simplifying anytime soon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.M. Simpson
• Release date: Jul 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201097660

C.M. Simpson

I spent the first twenty years of my life living in different parts of Queensland and the Northern Territory. My father was a teacher who liked to travel, so he took teaching appointments in all kinds of places. I don’t think I stayed in one place for more than four years at a stretch. I wrote stories for most of that time, drawing on the different landscapes we encountered and giving a hyper-active imagination somewhere to run. Seeing so many different places gave me a lot of food for thought as I stepped into the world of adulthood and took my first full-time job, and I never stopped writing and exploring the worlds in my head. So far, I have written four collections of short stories and poetry, and a number of novels, with many more to come. I hope you have enjoyed this part of my journey.

Book preview

Tales of Mack ‘n’ Me

C.M.’s Collections #8

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C.M. Simpson

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Stow-away, Odyssey agent, trouble-maker, rogue, Cutter’s life’s been interesting no matter which way you slice it—and now it’s been put into chronological order so you can see what piece of mischief occurred when, in relation to the bigger adventures covered in the novels. From sassing Odyssey’s deadliest agent to rescuing stolen children or retrieving missing crewmates from their kidnappers, Cutter’s lived a complicated existence, and it doesn’t look like simplifying anytime soon.

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License Notes

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright Page

Tales of Mack ‘n’ Me

First Edition

Copyright ©July 6, 2022 C.M. Simpson

Cover Art & Design © November 11, 2021, Jake at JCaleb Design

All rights reserved.

Dedication

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For all those who believed in me enough, that eventually I had to believe in myself.

Thank you.

Author Forward

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Welcome to the first collection devoted exclusively to stories about Mack and Cutter of the Mack ‘n’ Me and Odyssey science fiction action-adventure series. These are narrated by Jocelyn Cutter and follow her through the adventures that occurred between the events described in that series.

The collection came about because Mack and Cutter’s stories were scattered across several out-of-print short stories and a myriad of flash fiction spread over a few collections. Once the series hit, it was important to put everything that had come before in some semblance of order, if only to see when each piece of mischief occurred.

Sadly, that order was not the order in which they originally appeared, either in my head, or in the flash fiction. When properly ordered, however, they trace her emergence as a character, long before the novels came into being—and perhaps help to explain her appalling attitude to Mack and Odyssey.

In addition to the flash, and the short stories that originally appeared as stand-alone pieces, I’ve also written two never-before-seen short stories just for this collection. I hope your enjoy reading Cutter and Mack’s adventures as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Table of Contents

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Post-Mack ‘n’ Me: Origins—Pre-Blaedergil’s Host

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The Depredides Dance

Rogue Retrieval

Persuasion

A Brand-New Dawn

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Post-Blaedergil’s Host—Pre-Arach

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Communication Protocols

Define ‘Interesting’

Mack—Just Not My Knight

A Change of Plans

Mack and Alpha 9

Shore Leave’s Cancelled

Charlie’s Mistake

Arachnophobia

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Post-Arach—Pre-The Transporter’s Favor

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Dinner and a Show

Him Upstairs

Summertime Delivery

Securing Negotiations

With Friends Like This

Mack and the Dragon

Greetings from the Ocean of Teeth

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Post-The Transporter’s Favor—Pre-The Wolves of Alpha 9

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What Happens on Axis 58

The Cure for Werewolves

Retrieval 49

Ant Honey and Jellybeans

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Post-The Wolves of Alpha 9—Pre-Diplomacy 101

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Cloud Door

Storm Truce

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Post-Diplomacy 101

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The First to Remember

A Delightful Rescue

The Assassin and the Arach

New Crew

Post-Mack ‘n’ Me: Origins—Pre-Blaedergil’s Host

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The Depredides Dance

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I started ‘The Depredides Dance’ on February 15, 2018, the day after I finished my first purely science-fiction novel, Mack ‘n’ Me: Origins. ‘Depredides Dance’ picks up where the novel leaves off, and took me three days to write because I couldn’t work out where it was going, and it wouldn’t stick to the plot. In the end, I just had to relax and let it come out the way it wanted. I finished this story on February 18, 2018, and assigned released it as a stand-alone short story. It is available only as part of this collection.

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Abby dropped me off on Depredides, just like I paid her to. She even booked me into a cheap motel which would give me lots of places to run to, and she did that free of charge.

Because we’re friends, she said, even though we both knew she’d be running an auction in seventy-two hours’ time to give away my drop point. She’s a transporter; it comes with the territory, and I couldn’t pay for an extension to her silence.

Friendship and business, we both knew where the lines met, and, because of friendship, we didn’t hold our business actions against each other. We’d travelled across several systems, fast enough to avoid both Delight and Mack, and get me out from under Odyssey’s radar. As a situation, it wasn’t going to last, but I was going to make the most of it while it did.

Before I left the hatch, Abby removed the extra locks she’d put on the links Mack, Delight and Tens had added to my implant.

What you’ve got should last for a while, she said, especially as you’re out of range. Try and stay that way.

I paused, on the steps leading from her cockpit down to the tarmac, reached up to touch her hull. I had no words for what I felt, but she seemed to understand.

Safe travels, she said, and slid the hatch door shut.

She retracted the stairs, as soon as I’d stepped off them, and I heard the engine note start to build. I didn’t look back as I hurried away, not even when I felt the wash of her engines as she took off. When I reached the edge of the tarmac, she was just a twin-starred speck, retreating to the void above.

Papers, said the man behind the counter, and I realized I’d forgotten to plan one, important aspect of my arrival.

Damn. I’d thought that had been part of Abby’s service.

It was too late, so I gestured at the computer terminal.

It was a late notice trip, I said. The company rerouted me. They should have forwarded the paperwork to your department.

He didn’t look impressed.

Name.

I struggled to keep my features bland. Fuckit. I hadn’t thought of this. Why hadn’t I thought of this? I thought fast, instead.

I’m under cover. Need to pick my dossier up. Are you sure my picture doesn’t call up anything?

Which company do you work for?

And I felt color rise to my cheeks, was left with my mouth open and nothing to say.

"Abby!"

"I did not think you were this unprepared. I am sorry. You do not have enough to cover the cost of a new identity." At least she sounded contrite, rather than amused.

Double damn. If I’d been thinking I would have thought of this myself, would have found a different path off the tarmac, not waltzed straight up to the guys who were likely to put me into a database that would totally wreck Abby’s auction.

"Honey, you put it that way, and I’ll give you all the help you need."

Her words brought a small smile to my lips.

And I thought you were supposed to not be in my head anymore.

The AI’s presence in my implant was smiling; I could feel it.

"Dasojin, Abby said, sidestepping my comment. That’s the company you work for."

I’m pretty sure the man behind the counter was about to summon local law enforcement, when his computer screen flashed, but I was already speaking.

Dasojin, I said. Sorry. I’m new, and the trip, and all the last-minute changes...

I let my voice trail off, as though I’d just noticed he wasn’t paying any attention, made my voice breathy with desperation. Not that that was a hardship.

Is there anything there for me? Under Dasojin?

He flicked a glance up at me, and then back to the screen.

Must be your lucky day, he said. Miss...

"Dasoto," Abby supplied.

Dasoto, I said, then blushed a bit more. This is awkward; they just pinged my implant—wanting to know where I was.

The guy smiled, and his fingers rattled over the keyboard in front of him. Beside him the desk-top printer started to work. I watched as he pulled an identity card and several sheets of paper off the machine, wondering how Abby was going to deal with any incoming searches that might hit the system before the three days were up.

They’ll be gone by morning, she said, "along with any footage from the security feeds. I am well able to protect my own interests."

Welcome to Depredides, Miss Dasoto, the man said, standing up to pass me my papers. The cab rank is to your right as you leave the terminal, or there’s a bus downtown leaving from the street out front.

"Take the bus, Abby said, and buy yourself a comms link to the local network. You can get directions to the motel, then."

Thank you, I said, to the guy giving me my papers, before heading for the exit.

"And thank you, too, I added to Abby. How much do I owe you?"

You saved the auction; you didn’t have to do that.

It made my life easier, too.

Let me think on it.

Fine.

I reached the exit, and saw the bus stop. It was, as the man said, right in front of the terminal. What he hadn’t told me was that it was too big to miss. Depredides wasn’t a backwater world; it was populous and well-developed, and exactly the right place for a girl to disappear into... if no-one knew she’d arrived there, in the first place.

Business is business.

I know, Abs. Which bus?

I didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud, until one of the people waiting for the bus gave me a strange look.

Only one bus, love, she said. Leaves every half hour. Goes to Downtown. After that, you take a highrail.

I nodded.

How do I get on-line? I asked.

She was middle-aged, comfortably built, and I figured she was more bored than nosey.

You just in?

Does it show?

Little bit. She pointed. There’s a comms terminal over there. Don’t use Pennedix. Corrupt as they come, and lousy coverage.

Who’d you recommend?

Welliger. Good coverage. Okay service. Top security.

I sent Abby the names, and waited.

Neither. Both are suspect. She must be an agent for Welliger. I’m with Masquerade.

Damn, but she could have told me that, before I asked. I headed for the comms sales terminal, but the bus pulled in, and I didn’t want to wait another half an hour.

I’ll get one in the city, I said, when the woman who’d suggested Welliger asked me how I’d gone.

She pulled a face, and watched me board the bus, and I wondered exactly how I was going to erase myself from her memory. If she was touting for new customers for Welliger, and this was a regular beat, then she’d be able to confirm my landing to the first investigator who asked. Maybe I should just have gotten the subscription, before catching the bus. It had only been a half hour, after all.

I sighed, settling into a seat behind the driver.

If wishes were horses, right?

I slumped in the seat, managing to look at the back of the partition keeping the passengers away from the driver, keep half an eye on what was happening beyond the window, and still noting the other passengers as they boarded. There was no one I recognized, but I only relaxed when the door closed, and the bus pulled out. After that, I paid attention to what I could see of the city, trying to decide if I wanted to try and make it my home, while I went about making a living.

There was bound to be a caf that would take a chance on new-to-the-world wait-staff, right? Or someone who could do with a kick-ass administrator or receptionist, maybe? I mean, all the skills Odyssey had packed into my skull were great, but I’d seen the kind of life that led to, and I was pretty sure I wanted no part of it.

On the other hand, waiting tables, greeting customers, and high-speed data-entry would probably pay nowhere near as much, and I was going to need funds to disappear long enough for Odyssey and Mack to stop looking. I wondered which one would stop first.

Before I’d met him, I would have said Mack, but now I wasn’t so sure. His communications specialist, Tens, had been pretty sure Mack would come after me, had promised to help him do so. I’d wished them luck, but maybe I shouldn’t have. What I knew about that crew said they probably wouldn’t need it.

Damn.

I thought about that for a long minute, recalling how much Abby had charged to get me here, and what she might cost to set me up with a new I.D. It was hard to decide whether I should stay, or get off-world just as fast as I could. I tried to figure out which one my pursuers would bank on me doing, and figured I’d have to take both options—at the same time.

Everyone needed a data specialist, right? And this world had one moon and two satellite cities in orbit, and that was just what I’d seen coming in. It also seemed pretty industrial. I mean, the road in from the starport was lined with rocket repair companies, places that catered to biospheres and life support, dried goods and raw material suppliers for ship-board fabricators and galleys. The place looked more like a transport hub, than any world I’d seen...which wasn’t a lot, but still...

Getting off world should be a piece of cake. And so should finding a business that wanted something found. I just had to figure out where the want ads were placed—and how far off-world I wanted to go, before I came back. The advantage of a planet was that there was always room to run. On a sat, ship, or asteroid...not so much.

And I’d spent pretty much most of my life on planets. I knew planets—which was probably a very good reason to not stay...although anyone who knew me, knew I’d spent most of my life on planets, and was contrary enough to not stay on one, just because... It was starting to look very much like a case of damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t, so I was doubly damned whichever way I chose.

I guess the only question was how to work out what Mack and Tens were likely to choose, and if the chatter on a planet was going to be better for hiding my implant’s signature in, than getting some more distance in space. I watched the world speed up as the bus took a turn onto the high-speed freeway that would take it into the centre of the city.

The other factor that might affect me was also how much I’d been noticed...and by whom. The woman at the bus terminal was a certainty, and so was the man at the arrivals counter. Both had good reason to remember me, one as just a frustration, and one for all the wrong reasons. Clearing the security footage and logs might not be enough.

"It will get us to the auction," Abby said, and I sighed.

She was right. It would do that, and that was all she needed. Actually, it was three days. The girl who’d snuck aboard a freighter smuggling slaves would have been lost—but I wasn’t that girl any more. I had training, and resources.

I needed to get to the bank, and clear my account. Abby might have been nice enough to set it up and deposit the change from our transaction under a new name, but it was just another way to trace me. I could only hope the account was in the name of Dasoto, and not Cutter, but Abs wasn’t stupid; I could rely on that.

Abby was silent, and I wondered if she ever did anything to increase the chances that the data she sold bore fruit. When she remained silent, I sank into my own head, and took a closer look at my implant. I found each outside link, and checked it, but I could not find hers. Even though, I knew she had one.

Perhaps it was occasional, something in the coding that let her communicate whenever she needed. Would she use it to track me, too? I wondered if she was offended, or if I’d just imagined our friendship, but I couldn’t open communications to ask. In every way I knew how to check, Abs had vanished completely from my head, and taken her implant link with her.

At least I knew I was on my own. It was exactly how it should be. I should be feeling relieved, not...mildly depressed. I sighed again, and tilted my head back to the window. The bus had slowed, and was edging its way across to an off-ramp. Outside, the industrial warehouses and iron-bound fences had been replaced by high-rises decked in strings of light, office windows shining in constellation in the late afternoon dusk.

Dusk?

I leant back and checked out the time on the bottom of the screen showing the bus’s progress. Well, at least I knew we were nearly there; I just hadn’t banked on it being dark. I needed to find a comms outlet, and the bank where my money was residing.

And perhaps in reverse order. There was no point in buying a comms pack with funds from an account that could be traced. I needed a cred stick, something that couldn’t be traced. I pondered how to do that, as I poked at the communications networks I could sense around me.

The companies only provided anchor points and gateways. I wondered if it was possible to make a hole into the system, so I could move incognito inside it. The speakers inside the bus came on, as soon as I made my first tentative investigation of the systems protecting the net.

Access to the planetary net can be granted by the following companies: Pennedix, Welliger, Masquerade, Hermes Inc. or Depredides United. Attempts to access the net outside these avenues are a federal offence and will be prosecuted. Communications sales points for the legal vendors are available at each transport terminus. I repeat...

Well, that was fast. I tuned out the message, and contented myself with looking out the window. I hadn’t even seen whatever it was I’d pinged. Which told me their security was good, maybe even Tens good. I wondered who was providing it.

I was still wondering as the bus pulled in, and took my time, getting off the bus, glad for the passengers who hurried to disembark as quickly as they could. When half of them had gone past, I stood, and waited at the edge of my seat. Four passengers ignored me; the fifth waved me forward with a brief hand gesture and a polite smile.

Thank you, I said, and my gratitude was no pretense.

It was also short-lived. I’d no sooner stepped into the line, than a hand snaked around my waist and rested on the flat of my stomach, pulling me back against Mr. Polite. It was accompanied by the unmistakable pressure of a gun barrel pressed in tight to my spine.

Warm breath tickled my ear, with words designed to carry.

Come on, sweetheart. I’ve picked us the perfect hotel.

I just bet he had. Nothing like a romantic cover to hide the fact you were abducting someone.

I took a breath to reply, but the barrel dug a bit deeper, and his next word was for my ears alone.

Don’t.

I forced my lips to form a smile instead of words, and managed a wave to the driver as I let my ‘companion’ guide me out of the bus and down to the sidewalk.

Straight ahead, and into the building with the red stripe on the door, he said, and curled the hand on my stomach into a fist that included a good chunk of my shirt.

His breath tickled the hair at the back of my neck, and not in a good way. I was considering folding up in mock collapse...until I felt a click, and heard his voice murmur, again.

That was the safety. Any sudden moves, and you’ll be in a regen tank for a week.

A week. I couldn’t afford that. I almost wished Abby was still in my head, and then I was glad she wasn’t. I’d given her the auction, and she’d given me the start I needed. It wasn’t her fault I’d loused it up by poking the local communications net, instead of buying a comms package like she’d ordered.

I went towards the door with the red stripe. It belonged to the towering glass façade of an imposing office block. I figured that, for it to be in the centre of the downtown district, it was either government, or corporate. Given what I knew of the universe at large, it had to be corporate.

Since he’d picked me up on the bus, the guy with the gun was probably connected to the comms net security team. I could either try to run, or see where things went. Maybe these guys needed a retrieval expert...

All around me, people went about their business, no one seeing the hand curled at my midriff...or choosing not to intervene, if they did. Since my unasked-for-escort’s grip didn’t loosen, and I didn’t know just how light the trigger was on the gun in my back, I went through the door. Nice that it opened automatically.

Not.

Butterflies danced through my gut, spiraling up into my chest, and I forced my breathing to remain calm. Employment. Right? A new beginning. if I could convince these guys I was worth taking on, instead of shooting.

The room narrowed, almost to a point. I guessed it looked like a giant teardrop on the floor plan. There was a large reception counter spanning the far end, its ends guarding gateways to three doors leading from the centre of the room. The counter, like the floor gleamed ebony, screaming polished marble and wealth.

Definitely corporate.

Instead of stopping in front of the counter, my escort walked to one end, taking me through a grey, metal gate and up to one of the doors. Here, he let go of my stomach, grabbing me by the scruff of the neck, and pressing my face against the wall.

Don’t make me shoot you.

Like I’d ever.

I’m not sure what passed between him and the four people I’d seen warming the space behind the counter, but the door opened, and he steered me through, the gun-barrel pressure disappearing from my back as soon as the door had closed behind me. The arm around my shoulders was not an improvement, but I let him guide me down the hall.

We stopped at the elevators, and apprehension shivered through me. Ground floor, I could have handled, but basement scared nine kinds of Hell out of me. Bad things happened underground.

I didn’t feel any happier, when the doors opened and he asked the ride to take us up thirty levels. It would be a hell of a long way to fall.

When the lift stopped, and the doors parted to reveal an expansive lounge ending in ceiling-high windows, I froze. Unfortunately, my escort didn’t approve. His arm wrapped more tightly around my shoulders, and he pulled me forward. It was only when he turned to walk parallel to the windows that I started to relax.

There was a balcony outside those windows, even if I hadn’t had time to spot the way out onto it. I didn’t want to know, and I didn’t want to enjoy the view before being tossed over the edge.

Who knew if they’d even stop to decide I was guilty?

We walked along the wall closest to the elevators, to a point where the lounge ended, and a corridor led away from it, and then we stepped through a set of dark double doors, into a dark-paneled hall. This room had no windows, but it did have a counter behind a double thickness of glass reinforced by bars.

From the bus, my escort said, and I at least I could be sure I’d met the company responsible for the network’s security.

The man behind the counter looked me up and down, before stretching out a hand.

Papers, he said, and I realized I was still clutching my newly acquired identification pack.

I glanced up at the man beside me, the first chance I’d had to take a look at his face. I hadn’t missed much. It wasn’t quite a face that only a mother could love, but it was close.

Lothoran’s Fever, he said, and I knew he meant the scarring and pitting on his skin, guessed he’d seen my expression before. Hand them over.

So, I did, and a door opened to one side of the room. It led to a cubicle as big as the foyer we’d stepped out of, a space not much more than five-feet square.

Strip.

Again, I glanced into his face, and, again, I got nothing from it, neither anticipation, nor lechery, nor threat, just implacability. What can I say? I turned my back on him, and I stripped, and then I stayed turned away, because