Pie Box 1

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Pie Box 1 Page 8

by George Saoulidis


  “Exactly. Synthetic, distilled.” Tony stood up and ran laps around the kitchen table, making Hector real angry at him. “It’s a designer drug. Increases cellular restoration, limits fatigue, gives you a rush.” He spoke at a hundred kilometres per hour.

  “I’ve heard of it. It’s identical to what the body produces, right?” Patty added, serving the drinks.

  Hector noticed that she had regained dexterity in her damaged arm. “Sounds like it. I see your arm is doing well, I’m glad, Pickle.”

  She stretched it out. “It’s a bit stiff, but I’m getting there. It’s always a problem with damaged augmentations.”

  “Can I-?” Tony stopped circling. He leaned in to touch her cyberarm, frozen still a few centimetres away.

  “No,” she said to him, flatly.

  “Okay,” he shied away, and drank his entire glass in one go, then kept on buzzing about.

  “Don’t give him alcohol when he’s like this,” Hector complained.

  “It’s watered down ouzo, barely a finger.”

  “Oh. Smart thinking. Have I told you how you keep surprising me every day?”

  Patty smiled. “No. Keep saying it.”

  “What?” Tony panted, stopping for a moment. “Never mind. I’m going to get something from the periptero. You guys want anything? Think about it, send me a text till I get there.” He darted out of the place.

  “Interesting guy,” Patty breathed out when they were left alone.

  “If he bothers you too much, don’t slap him or anything ‘cause he’ll enjoy it even more.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Why would Mamacita give me this?” Hector frowned. He ran a cyberpink search. It was far too much to process. Then he ran a search for ‘Cherry,’ ‘Mamacita,’ ‘Yianni Hondros,’ and read through the results. “What do you know about this guy?”

  “He’s one of the biggest owners that don’t have a team. He basically rents out athletes short-term, gouging team-owners with the prices since he fills an immediate need.”

  “So he told me, it’s not a secret. But think on his business plan for a moment, he needs athletes to go down. Granted, the very nature of Cyberpink provides him with his business opportunities, but what happens when they don’t need his replacements?”

  Patty thought about it. She was rather cute when deep in thought. “Good point. We’re talking hundreds of thousands of euros in a short amount of time. Logic dictates that he’d make sure athletes went down and that the team owners would have need of his replacement girls.”

  “He must be doing something on the side.”

  “I have heard of girls going out of commission for a weird reason. Complications with their augs, drug problems, sex-work gone too far. But how does Hondros fit into all this?” She picked up the discarded pink patch and stared at it.

  “Hm. Don’t you have somewhere you girls hang out? Like a bar?”

  Patty grunted. “It’s more tribal than you’d think, but yes. Why? Don’t tell me that you need me to go out and talk gossip?”

  “Yes. Can you do that for me?”

  Patty thought about it. “I’m doing it for Cherry, not for you.”

  “Now, now. Someone once told me that I shouldn’t be a do-gooder, or-”

  She squinted at him. “At least I know what she’s going through.”

  Hector sobered up. It must have been evident in his expression, because Patty looked away.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? You haven’t done anything. You’re a perfect gentleman.”

  “For what has happened to you.”

  She turned back to him with a steely face. “Again, not your fault.” She stood up and washed the dishes.

  Hector pulled up his contacts and texted Tony. ‘Go and buy Patty a nice dress for a night out. I know you already have her measurements, you sleazy fucker. Something blue. Send me the bill.’

  DROP THIRTY-THREE

  Patty put on the dress and looked for a mirror. There wasn’t one. Men. Making do with the tiny one in the bathroom, she got ready. Putting on makeup on one eye alone felt silly, but she applied just a tad.

  She checked herself out. The dress was okay, it looked bumpy and awkward with her augmentations, but every type of clothing would have looked the same over them. She felt nice. Pretty, even. How long has it been since she just went out like this? She invited Cherry but got no reply yet.

  She cleaned up after herself in Hector’s bedroom. She had been occupying it completely, and that was something they had to discuss. Hector had a second room that had been turned into a closet over the years. He must have stuffed in there everything his father owned and wasn’t relevant to the armouring business. She’d discuss it with him, ease him into it. He didn’t like change. But if he didn’t plan to sell her off to someone else, he’d have to make room for her somewhere. It was a small room and full of dust, but she didn’t need much.

  All she owned could fit in a rucksack.

  It was depressing, really.

  She stepped out of the bedroom. The reaction in both men’s eyes was enough to make her feel good. “How do I look?” She gave it a spin.

  “Gorgeous. Fits you perfectly,” Hector said.

  “Yeah, let’s not dwell on that detail.” The fact that all her dimensions were listed on a site called ‘Get Her a Gift,’ didn’t make her particularly happy. Of course, not many fans got her stuff through the site. She always watched other girls get smothered with gifts from leery individuals. Speaking of, she turned to Tony, then placed her hand on her hip. “You’re taking a screenshot, aren’t you?”

  “I won’t upload it! I swear. This is just for me,” he wheezed.

  Patty shut her eyes and tried not to think what that actually meant.

  Taf was packed. The bar at Monastiraki had been popular before, but when the cyberpink girls started hanging out there and word got out it simply became packed every night. Buying out and expanding the stores across the street, it practically engulfed the entire block.

  Patty got out of the self-driving taxi and straightened her dress. It whirred silently in search for another fare.

  Quit standing there like an idiot. It’s just a night out. Move your butt.

  She walked inside. The door guy must have recognised her from the database and let her in. She was thankful for the security because fans could easily get very brave.

  She gulped.

  Since when had she had social anxiety? Or was it just being allergic to bitches? She went straight for the bar.

  “Ouzo, straight,” she ordered, and the barman got to serving it. Oh, gods, she hadn’t even realised how much Hector was affecting her already.

  “Thank you,” she said to the barman and took a big sip to get a buzz going. Looking around, she found a few familiar faces.

  Two of the Munchkins were up on a table, dancing tsifteteli, a type of oriental belly dancing. They were very close to one another, running their hands on each other’s bodies, dancing in unison. Men clapped and had fun underneath, while the duo teased them with their curves. Short but curvy, indeed.

  The Pandabears had ganged up on a VIP. They laughed at his jokes and touched him incessantly on a round couch. He was pitching a tent already. Patty couldn’t blame the man, when he had five ladies dressed in fur rolling all over him. Didn’t they get hot in here?

  And the Beasties at the far balcony. Oh, crap. Echidna stared down at her. Scratch that, she was piercing her with her yellow eyes, she could see them from down here. Patty broke eye contact and circled around the bar, looking for any friends. Cherry hadn’t replied, and she had definitely seen the message by now.

  She leaned back and took in the place and the people for a minute, lost in her thoughts. The fact that Diego was gone struck her out of nowhere. And now, she had Hector. He seemed nice, for now. Then again, they all seemed nice at the start. She couldn’t let her guard down with him. But she could enjoy the night, at least.

  Relaxed while taking in t
he crowd, she turned and came face-to-face with Echidna. She had yellow cybereyes with vertical pupils.

  “Excuse me,” she said lamely and tried to slip away.

  The woman raised her arm, practically punching the wall behind her, blocking her way.

  “Gorgon will never play again,” Echidna hissed.

  “I’m really sorry. It was an accident, really.”

  “I don’t care. Next time I meet you on the field, I’m gonna rip your arms out.”

  Patty gulped. The woman was far too emotional for just having a friend off the team. Sure, there was bonding but not like this-

  Oh. Oooh.

  “You love her, don’t you?” Patty asked softly.

  “Shut your mouth, vanilla cunt.”

  Patty said nothing and stepped backwards, away from the insane person. She looked down at her cyberlimbs. Vanilla? Her? What kind of stupid prejudice was that? She saw the Beasties gather up once more, Gorgon being absent, of course. The girls were all altered, different sorts of limbs, animal features, tails.

  Sick, disturbed people.

  Oh, well. She had a job to do, after all.

  She took another swig of ouzo and charged the Clumsies, making new friends.

  Patty realised she was having fun. Emma, Olivia, Sophia and Izzy, they were all lovely girls to hang out with. At least in this league. At the top, other teams wouldn’t be so friendly.

  “I love your outfit, where did you get it?” Olivia said, dragging the words in the classic girly way.

  “Don’t know actually, my owner got it for me. Must be a shop around our place.”

  “Really? Tell us all about him. Is he cute?” Izzy winked.

  “Mmm... I’d call him rugged, not cute. He’s thirty-one, hairy. Fit, though.”

  “Mine is terribly out of shape. But at least he cums quickly, two thrusts and he’s done. Pat, pat, Satisfied.” Emma said, wiping her palms for a job well done.

  They all laughed together and ordered more cocktails.

  “Hey,” Patty said conspiratorially, “have you heard about that new shit? Endo, I think?”

  “I have, they say it’s real good,” Izzy said.

  “Expensive,” Olivia added, sipping a green cocktail.

  “Know who might get us some?”

  The Clumsies stared at each other. Finally, Olivia spoke. “You shouldn’t try it.”

  “Come on, why not?”

  “I heard things. I think it’s the same like our body, makes, right? That’s why it’s not technically doping. But I heard that Phoebe’s owner gave it to her to get through a match, and she pushed herself so hard she collapsed afterwards. Went out of commission for months.” Olivia nodded and stared at her, making sure her point was made.

  Patty pretended to be shocked, covering her mouth. “That poor...” Bitch, was the word she was looking for, but she left it hanging. Phoebe was a Titaness, one of the best teams in cyberpink. They played dirty and won, a lot.

  “I know...” Izzy said, frowning.

  “Girls, you’ve convinced me. I don’t want to try endo. But help me out, protect me. Tell me who to avoid so that I don’t get tempted or anything.”

  Olivia leaned in close. “The one you should avoid is called Mamacita. You know her?”

  DROP THIRTY-FOUR

  Hector woke up and stretched. His back hurt from sleeping on the couch, and it was starting to become a problem. Patty had come home late.

  “Hey, Pickle?” He knocked on the door to his own room.

  “What?”

  “Can I enter?”

  “Sure.”

  He entered.

  She screamed, covering herself up. “No, I’m not decent!”

  He froze and looked away, covering his eyes.

  Patty burst out laughing. “It’s fine, come on in.” She was in her pyjamas, rolling around on his bed.

  He went in and grabbed a change of clothes form the closet, then threw some water on his face, leaving the bathroom door open. “Had fun yesterday?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. I can’t even remember the last time I went out for fun.”

  He brushed his teeth. “Noith,” he said with a toothbrush in his mouth.

  “I learnt a few things.”

  Hector grunted for her to carry on.

  “Mamacita? She’s playing you like a fool. She’s the one dealing to owners. Which, oh yeah, she actually did with you! She gave you drugs to pass on to me. What a nice lady,” she mocked.

  Hector spat the toothpaste out in the sink. “Why would she do that?”

  “Didn’t you see how your buddy Tony was after taking it. It gets you back in the game, you feel good, strong. It’s basically natural, so it’s not doping, not technically. And then you overextend yourself and get injured, leaving a-”

  “-A gaping hole in the team for Hondros to fill up with his replacements.” Hector leaned forward, resting on his arms on the sink. “I’m a fool.”

  Patty got up and patted him on the shoulder. “You’re simply thinking with your dick. Who could blame you? Now please get out so I can take a wee.”

  “We need to discuss our living arrangements,” she said, drinking milk.

  Hector opened up a can for Armadillo. “Yeah, this was temporary. You’re all recovered now. Want to rent a room somewhere? Your pay-day is today, right?”

  “It is. But...”

  “What did I do wrong?” Hector sat down and prepared a sandwich.

  “You’ve done nothing wrong. I know you’re in the red with my recovery, so I don’t want to spend more money. Getting another apartment, paying two rents up-front...”

  “I’m gonna need my room back at some point...” he laughed, pointing at it with the knife.

  “That’s kinda what I’m saying...”

  Hector sighed. “Just spit it out.”

  “I can move in that room,” she winced and braced for the answer.

  Hector followed her finger. It hadn’t even occurred to him. Sure, it was just extra space. But it had all his family’s old stuff piled up in there. Which he never even touched. They just gathered dust.

  “That is, if you plan to keep me around. If you’re just gonna sell my debt to someone, just say so, I can clear out today and be out of your hair.”

  Hector searched her face. She tried to look tough, but her eyes betrayed her. It was difficult getting a read some times because of her face augmentation. Not that women were that easy to read in the first place.

  “No, I-I don’t plan to.”

  “Don’t plan to keep me here? That’s all right.” She looked down into her glass of milk.

  “No! The other way around. I don’t plan to sell you. That is, if that’s okay with you?”

  An ear-to-ear smile flashed on her face, then she forced it away. “Fine by me.”

  “Now, for living accommodations, you’re right. Uh... But not that room. That’s... Off limits.”

  “Okay. But what else can we do?”

  “Let’s see... The shop remains as it is, the workshop can’t change...”

  “As I’d want to live inside your man cave.”

  “It’s not a man cave, it’s a workshop. Let me think, the garage’s storage at the back has a terrible moisture problem, it wouldn’t be fun sleeping in there. Plus there’s a giant door for loading, which feels uninviting. Upstairs, we’ve got the kitchen, my bedroom, the storage room, and finally the study. I don’t actually use it, I do all my work here on the kitchen table or downstairs at my shop. So we could move things out of there, maybe tomorrow? Does that sound good?”

  She hesitated. Then sniffed. “Yes. It does. Really good.”

  DROP THIRTY-FIVE

  A familiar face darkened his shop’s entrance, but he couldn’t place it immediately. He was top-heavy, muscled.

  “George! Come on in.”

  The security man checked the inventory, touching the fabric on one of the mannequins. “You said you’d have something I’d like.”

  Hecto
r smiled wide. He pulled the vest from the drawer and held it up. It looked like what you’d wear underneath a tuxedo.

  George rubbed it between his fingers. Incredulous, he looked up at him. “This is bulletproof?”

  “Bulletproof, knife-proof, and lets the skin breathe. You can wear it all day. It needs a bit of care when washing it, I’ll write down the instructions for you. It’s done by hand, not machine washable. But other than that, I believe it will work great for your case.”

  “What’s it made of?”

  “Graphene-fed spidersilk, woven with a certain metamaterial that still has a very long and boring name. It’s expensive, I won’t lie, but money is replaceable, you are not. That has been my father’s motto, and it still is mine.”

  He let the man think it through.

  A couple of minutes went past. “You don’t have to tell me how dangerous my work is. Even something small like a knife injury can cost me more down the line. I ain’t dumb.”

  “Never said you were, George. Come round the back so I can take your measurements.”

  They went through the familiar motions, measuring chest size and arm size and waist size. “Heh. This feels like going to the tailor.”

  “It’s pretty much the same thing. I’ll resew the vest and reinforce the seams. I’ll have it in two days, if you put down a downpayment?”

  “How much?”

  Hector told him.

  George whistled. He scratched his chin. “Fuck it. Let’s do it. I can always make more money.” He tapped the wire transfer on his phone.

  “I’m glad to have you as a customer, George! Let’s make it a long and pleasant thing, shall we? Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, how can I get a hold of Mamacita?”

  George raised an eyebrow, and his entire muscle system flexed. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

  “Yeah, but,” Hector leaned in close, mumbling, “we had a connection last night, you know. It went well, but I had to bolt out of there fast, get Patty Roo. First time jitters and everything, I couldn’t focus on pussy. I can ask Mr Hondros, but I prefer to reach her directly, know what I mean?”

 

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