Harry Jordan knew he was dead. He looked down at the stumps of his legs. He had screwed that up. He should have jumped to the right, instead of the left.

At least the stumps were cauterized so he wouldn’t bleed to death from what time was left.

“Hey, buddy, can I take a moment of your time?,” said a voice from above where Harry lay on the concrete floor. Something with too much teeth was just in his line of sight but seemed frozen.

“Sure,” said Harry. “What do I have to lose?”

The room vanished. Harry looked around but found his mobility was impaired by the lack of legs below the knees. The air was full of pictures of colorfully clad people fighting things with too many tentacles, teeth, and eyes. He spotted the most famous war hero from his town, Gauntlet, using his hyper weapon on a crowd of xenos while people scrambled out of the way.

“All right,” said the guy in the dark suit. He adjusted his dark tie with slender hands. A ring glinted on the pinkie of his right hand. “We have a little bit of time because we’re talking with our minds. Still, time is flying and you don’t have a lot before one of the smaller things comes across you and finishes the job. Savvy?”

“I got it, Captain Jack,” said Harry. He didn’t bother to try to wave his hand to go ahead since it was helping to support his torso.

“All right,” said the guy in the suit. He smiled. “This is the situation. You’re Harold Jehoshaphat Jordan. I’m Nick. You’re a human that is about to die. I am a representative of an alien race interested in keeping your race as a whole alive tasked with recruiting individuals to fight our enemies.”

“Why not build armies?,” asked Harry.

“The handbook says we can’t,” said Nick. “Something about too much sharing with species that would kill themselves with what we can give them. If it was up to me, I would be glad to give you lot a ship and marching orders, but I can’t so I won’t.”

“Sounds like some Prime Directive crap,” said Harry.

“A fan of Star Trek, eh?,” asked Nick.

“Jim Kirk was the best captain ever,” said Harry. “Screw those other guys.”

“I always liked Janeway,” said Nick.

“If I had feet, I would kick your butt right now,” said Harry. “Up around your ears.”

“Be that as it may,” said Nick. He checked the gold watch on his wrist. “We don’t have a lot of time here, Harry. I need to know if you want this contract, savvy?”

“What do I get out of it?,” asked Harry.

“A new set of feet and calves for one thing,” said Nick. “That seems what you need at the moment.”

“What about a hyper weapon like Gauntlet?,” Harry asked.

“You’ll need to earn something like that,” said Nick. “You don’t get anything like that out the gate.”

“I would love a weapon that does anything,” said Harry. “What can I get?”

“A gun, some legs, maybe some ammunition,” said Nick. “I don’t think you have enough time to get into the catalogue and point system.”

“What do you get out of this?,” asked Harry. “Don’t tell me altruism because I don’t believe in it.”

“The more of the enemy you kill, the more my prestige climbs,” said Nick. “And we’re fighting for the universe, some of the big boys say the multiverse.”

“So what happens if you lose the Earth?,” asked Harry.

“What do you care?,” asked Nick. “You’ll be dead. I need a decision, Harry. Our time is almost up.”

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“I’ll sign your deal,” said Harry. “I don’t have anything to lose.”

“You have a lot to lose,” said Nick. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small mirror. “The enemy doesn’t just take your life. It takes everything you are to make more of them.”

“I don’t understand,” said Harry.

“I have to hook you up to the quartermaster,” said Nick. “This is going to hurt a little bit. Once I’m done, you’ll have access to your points and catalogue. Then we can work on those legs.”

“What if I changed my mind?,” asked Harry.

“Then I withdraw and you get to be chow,” said Nick. “There’s no help me kind alien benefactor until you are contracted and ready to go. Until then, you are on your own.”

“And I will be dead no matter what,” said Harry. He closed his eyes.

“No more tacos at Luis’s,” said Nick.

“Go ahead and do what you have to do,” said Harry. He made a shrugging motion.

“Do you consent to be a contractor until you die?,” asked Nick.

“Yes,” said Harry.

“All right,” said Nick. “I’m going to put this in as fast as possible. We really pushed up against the time limit for our little talk.”

Harry closed his eyes as the agent loomed above him. Pain shot through his head. Something wet escaped from his eyes and nose. He decided to wait until the process was over before he checked to see if he was bleeding.

“There should be a moment as the system comes online,” said Nick. “That’s your menu. Give it a second to light up.”

Words filled Harry’s mind. He imagined a screen. A list of things appeared. Most of them were locked. He grimaced. He saw a basic weapon catalogue, and a basic first aid catalogue. They were locked from the icon, but it looked like he had enough in gathered points to open them. He spent the required minimum and winced as they both opened.

He had enough to unlock two other catalogues and did so. He didn’t know how useful they would be, but if he had to rebuild his body, access to a prosthetic list was necessary.

The other was a back up weapon scheme in case the basic gun and ammo didn’t work out the way he wanted.

And basic guns and ammo almost never worked out when the user didn’t know the gun, or the ammo.

He checked out the rest of the interface, noting there were places to toggle things. He nodded at that. He supposed most people didn’t want certain things to happen, or did want certain things to happen automatically.

He decided to allot one point to each catalogue out of every hundred he secured. That should allow him to buy ammunition and other weapons while unlocking the vast set of things that could be opened to him.

It would be cool to be able to captain his own Enterprise against the Hoard.

“All right,” said Nick. “You’re going back. The enemy is really close. You’re going to have to concentrate to win this fight and buy time to get squared away.”

“I can handle it,” said Harry. “Your prestige is safe with me.”

“Get ready then,” said Nick. “This is going to be a little rougher than coming here to talk.”

Harry nodded. Weakness filled his arms. He thought shock was making things worse for him. He needed to do first aid as soon as possible so he didn’t die before he faced the enemy.

The room of pictures blacked out. Nick’s glowing eyes were the last things Harry saw before he found himself back on the concrete floor in the tunnel under the school. He heard movement somewhere in the dark. He had to do something if he wanted to get out of this mess with the rest of his skin.

Harry searched the catalogues open to him as he felt around for the ordinary pistol he had brought with him when he had started searching the tunnels. His questing hands found it. He dragged it back across the floor to him.

He was armed, but he was mostly in the dark. The faint glow from the hole in the air was down the tunnel. He thought he saw a shadow move against the pipes built into the walls.

“You are going to need to take care of those legs,” said Nick in his brain.

“Give me a second,” said Harry. If he shot blind, he might hit something, might not. If he tried to fix his legs and something came at him while he was busy, he could be killed.

He needed a guard.

Something caught his eye in the expanded weapon catalogue he had opened. He looked at all the trees. He didn’t have enough for a fabricator. He did have enough for one drone. He checked his points and made sure before he ordered the weapon.

A small gate opened up beside him. He blinked as a box dropped to the ground by an inch. A release button was on the top. He pressed that with a thumb.

The box disintegrated. A metal bug sat on the floor. Something shifted down the tunnel.

“Tell it to wake up, Harry,” said Nick. “You got a robot, but you didn’t turn it on.”

“Wake up,” said Harry. “Activate. Defend.”

The bug’s eyes lit up. Wings unfurled and it took flight. A small bump on its back glowed.

Harry looked at the stumps of his legs. He had to fix his calves if he wanted to live. Running was going to be essential.

A beam of light pulsed from the bug. It scorched the concrete on misses, but things were screaming when it touched them. The bug danced as it went about its work.

“I suggest the clampers as a temporary measure,” said Nick. “Something to get you moving.”

Harry checked the first aid kit. He noted the prerequisites that went with the clampers. He checked his points. His bee seemed to be hauling them in. He almost had enough for a fabricating hive. If he could get that, then he could really make some points.

He also needed to get the gear piece by piece so he could put his legs together enough to back off.

He fired his pistol into something trying to fly above his bee and got enough points for the hive. It was time to go to work.