Served With a Twist

by Jet Lupin

  Samson was so angry—and on Cut’s behalf. He regretted ever questioning Samson’s feelings for him. He should have known better.

  Ramzan let out a weary sigh. “You’re emotional. He’s got you all puffed up. You forget yourself. Call me back after you’ve cooled off for a while.”

  Samson ended the call, and he stood there, shivering as the adrenaline fled. Cut joined him in the bathroom and wrapped his arms around his waist.

  Samson whispered, his lips moving slowly. “Why did I do that? I’ve never talked to him like that. I should have waited until we were through with all this.”

  A session would be good for him now, help him get his head right, but with Mikela on the way, Cut wasn’t about to risk getting walked in on again. Words would have to do. “No sense in worrying about it. We’ll figure out what to do from here.”

  Regardless of anything else going on in his head, they were linked together, for better or worse.

  Cut didn’t have much. Aside from his bike, Cut hadn’t changed the way he spent money since he started making more of it. Any extra went toward what was likely a sizeable little nest egg by now. It was likely nothing compared to Samson’s funds, but if he needed it, it was his.

  Samson gripped Cut’s forearm and squeezed. He heard what Cut had offered at least. He murmured something that might have been “Thank you.” Samson seemed to need them to stay as they were, embracing, and for a few minutes, they did just that.

  A bright, immediate pain in his jaw woke Cut up abruptly and brought tears to his eyes. All the swears pricked his tongue, longed to get out, but his jaw was locked up tight. The movement alarm at the front door was going off and Samson was moving. Cut took a second to self-assess.

  Cut wasn’t sure when it had happened, but they drifted off together, Samson’s head on his chest. The alarm must have woken Samson up and he smashed his head into Cut’s jaw. The vigor with which he rubbed the top of his head was proof enough of that. Cut was faster, locked jaw and all, and he got to the door before Samson did. He activated the screen at the security interface there. If he’d been thinking, he would have connected his pod to it earlier and saved himself some time, but they’d been so tired, there was no time. Mik was going to give him shit about it for sure.

  Mikela waited on other side of the door, a box in their hands and a bag on their back. Their shaggy pale hair was hidden behind a thick hood. “Delivery!” They knocked on the door for good measure.

  Cut forgot they were coming over. It felt like days had passed since they last spoke.

  “It’s Mikela,” he called over his shoulder as he opened the door.

  The box was shoved into Cut’s hands, and Mikela pushed forward, forcing him back into the apartment and away from the open door. Once the door shut behind them, Mikela was at fiddling with the panel beside it.

  Cut tried to get their attention, but they ignored him until they were ready to speak.

  “This is a pretty nice system you’ve got here. I see you didn’t register your pods yet.” They thrust their greedy palm in Cut’s direction. “Give them to me so I can do it.” Cut handed his over. He’d get Samson’s once he knew exactly what Mikela intended to do with it.

  They plugged away, tapping back and forth between the screens. Cut got closer and peered around them. The interface looked nothing like the one he’d just used.

  “Did you break it already?”

  Mikela scoffed. “I’m making it better. As of right now, all you need to get in here is an access code. Nothing wrong with it, every place does it. To keep it really secure, you’d have to keep changing the code in case it gets leaked, but if you’re constantly changing the code, it’s only a matter of time before you forget it yourself. People usually default to a code they already know when that happens, which makes it easy to find for anyone willing to do the research, making the whole thing was a waste of time. It’s better to not use a code at all.

  “Pods are linked to your bio signature, yeah?” Cut nodded, though he barely followed. “You can use one or the other for most things. Buying stuff, signing for packages. I’m making it so you need both to get in here. Nothing’s fool proof. You can hack around it, but it won’t be easy or quick. Kicking the door in’s faster, but then you’d have a pack of Greens on your back by the time you leave. It’s a hell of a deterrent.”

  This made as much sense to Cut as it was going to, but he trusted Mikela. If they said this was the right course of action, then so it was.

  Mikela tossed Cut’s pod back to him. He’d barely caught it before they were snapping their fingers at him. “I need that other pod.”

  Cut left the mystery box in the kitchen and went to track down Samson, who’d slipped into the shower. Thankfully, he’d left his pod behind.

  He pressed the pod in Mikela’s hand as he held their gaze. “Only for the house lock. No snooping. Give it right back when you’re done.”

  Mikela sucked their teeth. “You really think you have to tell me that? What do you think I am?”

  “A curious soul with an active mind.”

  Mikela wouldn’t step out of bounds for personal gain or malicious intent, but when something caught their interest, they tended to be impulsive.

  They were quiet a moment, a distant look in their eye as they pondered Cut’s words. “Fair enough.”

  Cut picked up the box from the kitchen counter and shook it. There was weight to it, but it barely made a sound.

  “What’s this?”

  “A house warming gift. You don’t just show up to someone’s place for the first time without a gift. I’m not a savage.”

  Cut lifted the lid. The box was packed with pastries. Samson hadn’t gotten around to making breakfast. Cut was starving to the point that just the smell made drool well up in his mouth. “I’ll make us some tea.”

  He secured Samson’s pod and tucked it into his back pocket and headed to the kitchen to heat some water. Mikela tinkered beside the security panel with their own pod, swaddled in its hot pink case. Ten minutes later, they shut down the security panel and pulled out a chair at the dining table. They surveyed their surroundings as they finally slipped out of their outerwear. “Nice hideout. You’ve really come up.”

  Cut leaned on the door jamb, watching them. “Too bad it only took someone wanting to kill me for it to happen.”

  Mikela laughed. “Whatever works.”

  They emptied their bag onto the table, all manner of tech items spilling out. They sorted through it until they found their portable terminal and set it up. Once it booted up completely, they began typing furiously away at it. They were always into something

  The whistle of the tea kettle called Cut back into the kitchen. He fixed three cups, making Mikela’s extra strong. He wasn’t sure how Samson took his, especially with the sweet pastries here. He left it pretty neutral for now, with only a hint of sweetener. As he carried the mugs to the table, Samson appeared. He was dewy from the shower, though his eyes were a little pink either from a mishap with shampoo or a good cry.

  Samson stopped in the doorway, Mikela’s presence catching him off guard. “This is my friend Mikela. They came to help us out. Mik, this is Samson.”

  Mikela closed the distance between them in seconds, eagerly extending their hand. Samson took it, his gaze flicking to Cut before he shook the offered hand. Mikela beamed. “You have a surname there Samson? Mine’s Gaiter.” They sounded like they had several cups of caf in already.

  “Ba,” Samson said. Mikela’s energy when they were on a tear was a lot to deal with, even to those who knew them well. Cut should have given him a heads-up.

  “I brought food,” Mikela said, pointing towards the kitchen. “Help yourself.”

  “I—thank you.”

  “I don’t like hanging out in the home of people I don’t know well, but we’re no longer strangers, are we?” Out of nowhere, they caught Samson in a furious hug. Samson rolled with it and hugged them back. Th
e hug itself lasted no more than five seconds before Mikela let go and returned to the table.

  Cut put the mug of tea in Samson’s hand when he drifted near. He sank onto the couch cushion, letting the mug warm his hands.

  “I’m impressed by how many steps you’ve taken on your own. Finding all this in such a short time must have been a bear.”

  Samson softly demurred. “I had help. Though, I made sure they didn’t get my real name.”

  “Smart,” Mikela said distractedly. They finished typing a line with a flourish, their hands swaying over the keyboard before they spun in their chair. “All of these methods are good for now, but this isn’t sustainable in the long term.” They gestured to their terminal across the residence. “I’m looking up a scrambler for your pods that’ll make it harder to track you when you’re outside, but it can’t stop security cams from picking you up. Do you have any ideas on how to stop whatever backed you into this corner in the first place?”

  Samson swallowed. “Not exactly. He’s likely had his eye on Cut since he found out about him. He poses a threat to both of us, but if I can get him to leave me alone, he’ll probably leave Cut alone, too.”

  “What’s stopping you?” Mikela interjected. Cut knew what they were doing. Mikela already had an idea. They were trying to lead Samson there.

  “A lot of things. A lack of resources, a lack of time.”

  “What would get him out of your hair the fastest?”

  “I don’t know!” Samson raised his hands helplessly. “I guess kicking him off my board of directors, removing his name from any documents related to my company. But he won’t leave just because I ask him to. I can’t remove him from the board on my own.”

  “What do you need to get him off? For any of this to happen?”

  Samson’s face lit up as the answer came to him and with that, he and Mikela were on the same track.

  “Votes. We’d have to vote him out.”

  Mikela clapped their hands together loudly. “Bingo!” They bit into their pastry in triumph. When they took it away, they revealed a ring of powdered sugar around their mouth. They smirked. “I can get your votes no problem.”

  Samson joined them at the table, and Mikela corralled their belongings to give him space.

  Cut hated to make them lose track when they were gaining momentum, but he felt he had to point out the obvious here. “How many board members are there? They aren’t going to come cheap.” No matter what Samson told him the reason for the accelerated timeline was, he was already on the hook for Komatsuna and all the other vendors. Cut would leave Izanami before he saw Samson sink further into debt because of him.

  Mikela devoted a few seconds to the pastry, humming their pleasure as they tore into it.

  “They’re actually cheaper than you think. Everyone’s got things they’d rather not have out in the open. The more money you make, the more secrets you have. And they’re never as secure as you think.”

  One of Ramzan’s secrets was sitting right here with them. Cut’s gaze landed on Samson for a fraction of a second, before he trained it on something more innocuous. He would never suggest they use Samson’s history against his father, not even if it would destroy him utterly. Cut was prepared to take this secret to his grave.

  “What do you need?” Samson asked.

  “Names and time.” Mikela shrugged. “How many board members do you have?”

  “Six, not including myself and my father.”

  “Then a week maybe. Less if I start now.”

  Hiding out for that long was no problem for Cut. If this worked as Mikela expected, this ought to be a breeze.

  Samson shrunk in his chair. “What if it has to be sooner than that?” The air felt charged, as Samson’s seatmates snapped their attention to him. Mikela asked what Cut was afraid to utter.

  “Why?”

  “I lost my cool with my father earlier today, and ignoring him for two to three days wouldn’t be a problem normally. But he’ll be back in Izanami sooner than a week. He’s going to expect to see me. There’s an event he expects me to attend.”

  “So you go.” Mikela made it sound so easy, so matter of fact.

  Cut scratched his head. “We want to get Samson away from him. Now you’re saying he should hang with him?”

  “Unless you want him to see this coming, you’re going to have to play nice. Wait a day or two before you message him and say that Cut ran. You don’t know where he is. You can even take some time off to really sell the heartbreak. Think you can do that?”

  “Sure, if it’s over text.”

  Mikela smiled. “Good. I’ll try to dig up this dirt as fast as I can. I’m gonna camp here until this is over, if that’s alright with you?”

  “Of course,” Samson said. “We have an extra room, but there’s no bed in there yet.”

  “Not a problem.” Mikela stood, putting their jacket back on. “I’m gonna runout for some supplies. Be back in a couple hours.”

  Samson twined his fingers together on the tabletop. “I’m grateful for your help. Please, let me know how I can repay you for this.”

  Mikela shoved their arms into their jacket sleeves. “Don’t worry about it. And you don’t have to worry about letting me in. I went ahead and logged myself as a resident. Just pretend I’m not here.”

  Easier said than done.

  Mikela’s departure gave them a reprieve. It was a lot for someone to come in and play general. As intense as Mikela was, their presence was definitely helping.

  Samson joined Cut on the couch after they polished off more of the pastries. There was no telling how long the quiet would last, so they had to enjoy it while they could.

  “Are they always like this?” Samson asked, leaning against Cut.

  “Only when they’re on a roll. They don’t mean anything by it.”

  “I figured. But tell me when I can do to repay them for their help.”

  “They won’t take money or anything like that. But if you’re really concerned, feeding them ought to make you square.”

  Cut rubbed Samson’s arm. “But I wonder, once we oust your father, will that be it? Will he really stay away?” His hold on Samson and his business would loosen, but this wouldn’t sever it. Cut was certain if there was another way, he’d find it. There was no way all of their hard work was going to mean nothing in the end.

  “It might, it might not.” Samson shifted, searching for a comfortable spot. “I think I could find a secret or two to lord over him, if I tried.”

  Cut swallowed. “Hopefully it won’t come to that.” He meant the words sincerely.

  With all this talk of dredging up dark pasts, Samson’s secret felt dangerously close to breaking the surface. Cut might be powerless to prevent that from happening, but he’d shield Samson from the blowback as best as he was able. And failing to do that, he’d help him deal with it.

  They were safe and hidden away, but their talk with Mikela reminded Cut of how precarious that safety was. Samson fidgeted again. He hadn’t stopped since Mikela left.

  A session would set them both right, but with an unknown amount of time to themselves, it seemed safer to abstain for now.

  But not for too long.

  Managing Samson’s stress was a balancing act, and Cut’s responsibility first and foremost. He wouldn’t let a little thing like being hunted stop him from carrying his duty out.

  Chapter 21

  C

  ut’s humble beginnings on Earth provided a fertile ground for dreams. He wanted to be a pilot before he knew how much money and training were involved; then, he wanted to be a trader, a mercenary, and about ten other things, but house spouse had never made the list. For the days that Mikela spent shut up in the extra room, Cut got a glimpse of what it would be like to live such a life, and already he’d developed a bone deep dislike for it.

  Yes, he was surrounded by comfort, was fed and cared for, but it got old quick. He never realized how
much freedom he enjoyed every day until it had been taken away. He’d give up his left arm to be able to go for a ride, though he’d settle for a walk around the block. He found ways to entertain himself, but even those activities were far and few between.

  After one day, Cut had memorized every single square foot of the residence, including Mikela’s room. He would have loved living here under less stressful circumstances. Large windows in the living room and master bedroom that were usually kept shuttered had a view of Hizashi Park. The residence itself sat on a rise, giving it a view over the other structures positioned below it on the slope. He imagined what it would be like with good furniture, plants, life, to come home to this every day. His need for that normalcy grew the longer he stayed here.

  After two days, Samson had gone back to work, leaving Cut to his own devices. He spent the time wiping down every counter, sweeping every corner until the whole place glistened. He’d only done such a deep clean on his own place once in the five years he’d lived there and that was when Samson came to visit. With so little in the residence, cleaning didn’t take all day. By lunch, he devolved into watching a mind numbing amount of TV. It only took him a few hours to get up to date on all the popular shows and even one he’d never heard of before. That evening, while Samson made dinner, Cut regaled him on all the goings on, who was sleeping with who, who’d betrayed which friends and Samson listened with quiet patience. Cut promised not to while away the next day the same way.

  The morning of the third day, Cut got up intent on helping Samson get ready for work. While Samson showered, Cut laid out his clothes for the day and made them a simple breakfast of eggs, toast, and fruit to the best of his ability. Samson handled it most mornings, making enough or Mikela as well. They had a cache of snacks in their room that they grazed on throughout the day, but they always made sure to come out to the main living area twice a day to grab a plate of whatever was on offer.

  Life with the three of them living in the residence was as fine as Cut expected. Everyone involved was generally agreeable, and Mikela kept to themselves. Things outside, however, were different from what he imagined.