Mini Max Read online

  He nodded and made notes on the file.

  She gripped his wrist. “Make sure that they don’t try and force the match.”

  He gave her a serious look. “I will make sure of it.”

  Max sighed, and she nodded. “Good.”

  The stretcher, the new parents, and most of Max’s worries were packed into the aircraft, and they were soon in the air.

  Max went inside to tidy up after the bloodbath that had occurred in the bedroom. Tomos hadn’t looked. That was a blessing, but she pulled the bowl full of bloody gauze out, and she took the sheets to the washing area, soaking everything in icy water, rinsing the blood out before setting the cold cycle.

  Cleanup was part of a midwife’s duties, and while Max had run out on Mitska, she had had plenty of friends and family to help her with the tasks.

  She scrubbed the membrane on the bed and then put a fresh set of bedding on it. When they got home with the little one, it would be ready for a good night’s sleep.

  Max yawned and finished cleaning the bowls that she had used to keep Jiko’s organs out of her way. Giving birth was a messy business. The moms had the easy part. Being on the business end was another matter entirely. It was the one part of being a girl bringer that she wasn’t really fond of.

  Chapter Four

  In between delivering babies, Max kept her normal routine and kept piling money up in her accounts. Knowing how much she spent per year made it easy to tick off the time toward retirement.

  She had twenty years left on active midwife duty for the family, and then, she could focus on finding something else to make her panic in the middle of the night.

  Max finished putting the door on the sports vehicle and completed the job with wiping down the interior. Once finished, she rolled it out of her garage and parked it in the lock. It was the parking space that she kept for visitors to the area who needed vehicle repair. They tended to whip out their spare keys and try to take off with the completed work.

  She cleaned her hands and was in the office, doing paperwork, when she got a call.

  “Max!” The number was from the peacekeepers.

  “Yes?” She was cautious. Driving fast to keep her reflexes sharp was a hobby that sometimes ended her adventure in farmers’ fields.

  “We need you on route six. There is a two-vehicle accident, they are fused together and in a field. Our crane truck can’t get here for an hour, and there are injured folks in those vehicles.”

  Max nodded and got to her feet. “I am on my way.”

  She hung the Back in an hour sign on the door and got onto her monocycle. If she exerted herself, she could still reach the controls when she shrank.

  The huge, fat tire under her began to spin, and she took off for route six. She had skipped her helmet. There was no way that she was going to fit it on the way home.

  She had been called out a total of eight times in her lifetime and all since her strength appeared as a teen. The peacekeepers around the area acted as general community liaisons and emergency responders. If they called in Max, they were desperate.

  She gunned her motor and blazed through traffic before she made it out onto the rural route and continued to burn along until she saw the blockade of vehicles and flashing lights.

  She followed the lights and headed to the ditch. From there, she cruised into the field and headed toward the peacekeeper vehicle next to the wreck.

  She got off her cycle and ran a hand through her hair. She had stopped trying to keep long locks. Short worked for her. It was easier to get grease and dirt out.

  “Hello, my name is Max. Someone called?”

  The peacekeeper coordinating the site beckoned her over. “I am not the one who called you, but he is trying to keep the family over there calm. They are all alive but trapped. Can you get them out?”

  Max nodded. “I can try. What about the produce truck?”

  “We can’t find the cab.”

  Max exhaled and nodded. “I will do what I can.”

  She walked up to the wreck, and when she glanced at the peacekeeper who was talking to the inhabitants of the car, she said, “I am going to try and separate the vehicles. It won’t hurt your vehicle, but you may be jostled around. Keep calm, I am not going to take long.”

  She could only see a hand sticking out of the window, and she heard soft sobbing.

  She had no idea how the smaller family vehicle had gotten folded with what appeared to be the cab of the produce transport under them, and the cargo area had folded around them. They were the filling in a cargo truck sandwich.

  Max walked around the wreckage and nodded. She was going to start on the unoccupied end and pry it loose. She waved for the men standing around to clear the spot where she wanted the cargo area to land. Sighing, she hoped they moved because she wouldn’t be able to check.

  Gripping the edge of the truck, she lifted it up and began to walk forward, pushing it up and over her head, walking it up and away from the people in the smaller vehicle as she passed them. There was the groan of metal, pings, and cracks as she moved it away from the persons inside the passenger transport.

  The metal reached its tipping point, and the cargo end of the produce truck fell away from the car. There were a few shocked shouts, but Max was focused on getting the car out. She picked it up and moved it away from the rest of the truck.

  A quick glance showed her that the trucker had not made it.

  She looked at the peacekeeper and jerked her head. He nodded and whistled sharply. Other officers covered the crushed cab of the truck where the chalky severed head was lying.

  Max turned her focus to the living. The dead were patient.

  She peeled the car open by ripping off the roof and then the doors, for maximum accessibility.

  First responders swarmed around, and Max stayed nearby, helping by bending metal and pulling it free so that limbs could come out intact.

  There were broken bones, blood, there would be scars, but each of the children and both parents were alive.

  Max shifted slightly and felt that her coveralls were getting slightly loose. With the family free, she walked over to the tarp, and she said, “Do you want him out?”

  The peacekeepers nodded. One took out a monitor. “I will record it for evidence. I know we already have your prints on file, Max.”

  Max nodded and quickly moved to efficiently pull the cab away from the driver and pop the console away from the body it had crushed. She swallowed. “You can get him out now.”

  They nodded, and one of the peacekeepers thanked her. She looked at the blood coating her hands and looked around, feeling slightly helpless.

  A woman separated herself from the crowd, and she showed the peacekeepers something that made them back away.

  The woman came toward Max, and she took her arm. “Come with me. We will get you cleaned up. You are uncomfortable with blood?”

  Max shook her head. “No. I can usually just clean up right away. I don’t want to bother anyone.”

  “For what you just did, I don’t think anyone would mind.” The woman walked with her to an emergency vehicle, and she got a squeeze bottle of saline for flushing wounds, and she washed Max’s hands.

  “Are you getting smaller?” The woman smiled slightly.

  “I do that. I get smaller with the power expenditure. The strength remains the same, but since my arms are shorter, it is harder to move things.” Max sighed mentally as her hands were clean again. She didn’t like to wear a dead man’s blood.

  “I have something to discuss with you. May I meet you at your shop?”

  Max blinked. The woman had an alien vibe. “You know who I am?”

  “I do. Thank you for your service today, Demyani. Even if no one else remembers to thank you, that family will forever remember the woman who pulled them out of the wreckage.”

  Max shook her head and wiped her hands on the now-baggy coveralls. “No, they kept their gazes on the med
ics and first responders. That is appropriate. They didn’t need to see what I was doing. Heck, I hate to watch what I am doing.”

  The woman patted her arm. “A cup of coffee at your shop will be in order, I think. I will meet you there. Can you get home like that?”

  Max waddled toward her monocycle. “I can manage. I always do.”

  She quickly rolled her clothing, so it was under her control, and she cinched the waist of her suit. Once that was done, she climbed up the side of the monocycle and hit the settings for her shrunken size. She powered it up and drove carefully past the emergency vehicles that were coming to deal with the wrecks. Once she was past the blockade, she drove at a safe and sane speed back to her shop, the route she had covered in six minutes now took her twenty-five.

  Her sports car client was waiting for her, pacing back and forth, checking his wrist and cursing.

  Max frowned. She wasn’t a fan of nasty language. It was one of the things that sparked her temper.

  She parked her monocycle and walked toward the door, her clothing flapping with every step. She unlocked the door and took the sign off it.

  “What, are you her kid? I notice that everyone around her breeds like rabbits.”

  Max shook her head. “No, I am not her child. Your bill comes to one thousand five hundred.”

  He stared. “That is robbery. That much, in this hick town? I won’t pay it.”

  Max nodded. “Your prerogative. I am sure that I can find a buyer for the vehicle and make the fee for my labour back.”

  His eyes bugged out. “What?”

  “You aren’t familiar with the laws in this hick town?” She tapped a laminated statute framed on the wall. “If a tradesman engages in a good faith transaction without requiring a deposit up front, they are entitled to recoup their losses by selling the object or item that performed the service on, provided that they can produce itemized proof of their labours.” She turned his invoice around and slid it across the counter to him, even though she could barely reach it.

  He looked at it, and his eyes bugged out. “You used nanotech to match the paint?”

  “Of course. I promised you would not be able to see that it had been damaged, and if you come with me, I will prove it to you. By the way, we take a rather dim view of driving while intoxicated in this hick town, so you shouldn’t do it again until you reach an area where it is legal.”

  She walked past him and out to the locked area.

  He flushed. “I didn’t...”

  “You pissed in your own car, dumped alcohol in the front seat, and your ignition activator looks like you were trying to start a fire with it. There are scratches everywhere. I do this for a living. I know the signs.”

  She showed him the vehicle, and he walked around it before jumping into the driver’s seat and trying to start the ignition.

  She stood there and stared while he realized that he wasn’t going anywhere. “Because of assholes like you, hicks like me use lock spots to hold vehicles. It will be released when I say so, and that is when you pay me.”

  She glanced over her shoulder as the sleek, black vehicle pulled into the lot, and she saw the hope in his eyes.

  The woman she had spoken to earlier got out of the rear of the vehicle, and she walked toward Max with a clipboard in her hands.

  Her client got out of his vehicle and put a smug expression on his face. “Don’t bother, ma’am. This hick is going to rob you blind and then still keep your vehicle hostage until you pay again.”

  The woman smiled slightly. “Is she? How long has she been shaking you down?”

  “The last hour.”

  The woman nodded. “Of course. And of course, I know that half an hour ago she was prying a truck off a family of seven and helping another family to have a body to bury. So, would you care to amend your story? I would suggest you just pay the lady.”

  The man exhaled and then inhaled. He actually looked at Max. “Is that blood on your suit?”

  “Yeah. And a bit of oil.” She rolled down her wrist cuffs one turn. She was getting bigger again.

  He fainted.

  Max sighed and picked him up, carrying him into the shop and setting him in a chair with the invoice next to him.

  The woman followed her into the shop.

  “Did you just want to talk here?” Max asked cheerfully.

  “No. we can wait until he is gone and you close for the day.”

  “Okay. Just a minute.” She walked over to the chiller and pulled out a handful of ice. She returned to her client and dumped the ice down the back of his shirt.

  He yelped, skittered away from her, and swiftly paid the bill. She tossed him his activator kit and turned off the lock.

  “Remember. Stay sober. The peacekeepers will be watching for you.”

  He nodded and got into his vehicle, driving off a little too fast for her liking. The speed restrictor she installed would kick in shortly if he kept accelerating.

  She closed up shop and looked at her guest. “Please come with me.”

  They headed upstairs where it was suggested that she grab a shower, and when she emerged, her guest had made coffee and assembled some snacks.

  The woman smiled. “Kiika Maxuna Zenacka, I have a proposition for you. My name is Investigator Jianik.”

  Max sat across from her. “I am listening.”

  Chapter Five

  “Are you familiar with the superhero teams?” Jianik ate a nibble of cheese.

  “Sure. We don’t have much call for them here, but I think that Yothan has put itself open for selection if there are any gifted folk found here.” Max sipped her coffee.

  “Well, you are the gifted person that I have found here.”

  Max spluttered. “What?”

  “Well, you know that you are bizarrely strong.”

  “Lots of folks around here are strong.”

  “They can’t lift trucks.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Probably not. Okay, I will concede that point.”

  “Your height indicates alien bloodlines.”

  Max shrugged. “It happens in nature. Folks have sex.”

  “Not on Yothan. You don’t understand how seldom aliens actually visit here.”

  Max shrugged. “It isn’t really data I have access to.”

  “Add to that your status as a Demyani, which is rare, even here. This is the only planet who has them, and they still don’t have more than a dozen born every year across the globe.”

  Max blinked. “Other worlds don’t have them?”

  “No, it is a development particular to Yothan. Have you ever met another Demyani before?”

  Max nodded. “Two. It was at school.”

  “Ah, the medical training. You took that far, didn’t you? No other Demyani has gone on to become a full-on physician.”

  Max shrugged. “I thought I might want to open a practice, but my strength is a little intimidating for folk who aren’t used to me.”

  “So, anyone who isn’t family.”

  “Right.” Max smiled slowly. “I am very good with anatomy, but my stitching needs work. Big fingers make for difficult stitches.”

  Jianik made a few notes. “So, before I make you an offer, I want you to know that I understand your need to be close to your family as a Demyani. I also know that any girl bringer can assist once the pregnancy is underway, in case of an emergency.”

  Jianik held up her hand before Max could interject. “No, it doesn’t work as well as the original Demyani, but it still works.”

  Max shrugged. “It does. So, what would you like me to do?”

  Jianik smiled. “I would like you to consider applying to be part of the newest team that is being put together. Team Eight. It has been selected to include only women. The members selected are strong and independent but capable of working with a team. You have been working with a large family for all these years, so I am guessing that you already have that skill.”

/>   Max smiled. “I like my family. They are quirky, but they are mine.”

  “And yet, do you feel like you fit, each and every time, or are there moments when you just want to stand up and take charge because they are your army?”

  Max wrinkled her nose. “They are not my army, but I got them all through puberty, and the first two of the daughters are married. They have chosen to have their daughters first just so that I can have a break. I was surprised by my brother wanting his daughters first. It surprised his wife as well.”

  “And yet, she welcomed you; in fact, she demanded you.”

  “Yes, and she is recovering due to the delay in her delivery and the unfortunate position of her giant daughter. No more daughters for her. Three is enough. The boys are smaller. Easier.”

  “Are they?”

  “Yeah. On average, they are smaller by over a pound.” She shrugged. “At least in my family.”

  Jianik nibbled at another piece of cheese. “So, the proposition is that you go through team training, you pass the physicals and the time trials. Once that is done, our team will be selected—”

  “You are sure of that?”

  Jianik nodded. “We are the only logical choice. The gifted that I have chosen are all specific and deliberate choices. None of them are whiny and dependent on others to get the job done. If one can’t make it, the others would complete the mission. You are also all women who have other, normal lives.”

  Max frowned. “I am not sure...”

  “You will make more in one mission than you can make here in a year, you can opt out if you have a delivery or family obligation...” Jianik gave her a serious look. “One of your soon-to-be teammates is a seamstress who specializes in adaptive clothing for the gifted.”

  Max blinked, and she heard the words out of her mouth before her brain recognized them. “Where do I sign?”

  Jianik grinned, and she said, “We will get to that. Now, tell me everything you know about your particular skills.”

  Max sat back and sipped at her coffee, getting up to pour more, finding it easier to reach the countertop now. “I am very strong.”