“Damn, I miss BarFly’s,” says Morning Assassin. “The fights we had in there.”
“Remember that time I stuck a snooker ball down your gullet?”
“Ha!” Aiden claps his hands together. “What about that time that you and Croc went toe to toe?”
“Sheesh, I still have a headache thinking about that. You ever been hit by Croc?”
“I may be an idiot at times,” Aiden says, “but I’m not stupid.”
“That’s a dumb thing to say.”
Aiden looks to Sophia and shrugs. “You haven’t seen Croc, have you?”
“One of the Cyber Noir guys? The Brits, right? The big one?” A smile creeps across Sophia’s face.
“Hey, you’re busting our balls, aren’t you?” I ask, returning her grin.
“Sure, I’m busting your balls,” she says, having trouble get those last words out. “I know who Burley is; he’s hit on me a few times, made some terrible joke about British colonialism of Asia and how he’d like to, I quote, ‘colonize my ass.’”
“He said that to you?” I ask.
“Yeah, but I had just told him to kiss my ass after he started laughing about one of the Mind Mage spells I was working on. So maybe I deserved that.”
“Yeah, maybe, but that’s a low blow,” I say.
“I’m over it. And to your original question, Croc is the really big guy, right? Looks like the Rock before he got old.”
“He has a name you know, Dwayne something.”
Sophia takes another sip from her adult beverage. “Croc has never said anything to me.”
“That’s because he’s a gentleman.”
“And he’s usually busy working with Cid,” says Aiden.
“Remember that time I cut the holes out of the picture on the wall, and stood behind the wall watching patrons come into the bar, occasionally shooting poison darts out of one of the eye holes until Cid got wind of me?”
Aiden laughs again. “I don’t know how you managed to cut a hole in the wall without him knowing.”
“Hey, item 130, my monomolecular wire, comes in handy sometimes. Got to be careful with it, though. That’s how you lose a hand.”
“I’ll bet.”
We continue like this, just shooting the shit until another round of beers come, both for me, and another hoity toity bev comes for She Who Thinks A Lot.
Sophia drunk is a little better than Sophia sober, but not by much. Every time the mic comes to her, she starts going on about Valhalla, and how she hopes to help rebuild so she can get a home in the neighborhood, and how terrible it is that the Reapers attacked Porthos.
Cry me a river is all I’m thinking when the guys in lumberjack clothing that were sitting behind Sophia decide to make their presence known.
What can I say? For some reason, I attract jabronies.
~*~
“Quantum, don’t do anything stupid,” says Sophia as she steps in between the two lumbery dude-bros and Yours Truly.
“I’d be less worry about me, and more worried about…”
Aiden slowly lifts his fists. It’s Aiden that the two guys are concerned about; I’d heard them grumbling about Humandroids, and boy, if there ever were the wrong person to mess with, it would be him.
“Fellas, I’m going to be honest with youse, this here ain’t your typical humandroid. You see, the good doctor over here invented a technology to download an NPC into the body of an android. What you are looking at is a trained killer, and assassin, your worst nightmare. So here’s your chance. Let me make this easy on you. You can all keep your teeth, and we don’t have to get Johnny Law involved, nor do I need to pull out my own concealed weapon. Why don’t you two turn your happy little asses around to the exit. What do you say? Make my night easy.”
“An NPC into an android’s body? I don’t believe any of that,” says the first guy, a man who looks like he was raised solely on meat and milk.
“Yeah? And I don’t believe who you think is your father is actually your father. But that’s between me and your mother, and she’ll tell you when she’s good and ready.”
The man swings. Aiden immediately hooks the man’s arm with his elbow.
“I warned you…”
Doc: Do not engage. I can’t believe I’m having to tell you this.
Me: I swear, Doc, I’m just trying to have a beer here with an old pal. These two yeggs got some nerve to try and interrupt my drinking, some nerve!
Doc: Sophia, you have my permission to power Aiden down. As for Quantum, well…
When it feels like the world is closing in around me, I usually go for a weapon. So that’s exactly what I do as Aiden pushes one of the dude-bros back.
I don’t quite hear a schwing as I unsheathe my blade, but I imagine hearing it, and as I point it at the first guy, and as the bartender starts to clear out, probably calling the fuzz over iNet, I brace myself for what could possibly come next.
And that’s when I get a message from Frances.
Frances Euphoria: Quantum, please, I’ll let you sleep in my hotel room tonight if you stop causing trouble.
“You gonna do it, old man?” the second knucklehead asks.
“As much as I’d like to skewer you chumps, mount your heads on the walls as trophies, I just got an invitation to something better.”
One of the guys swings a beer bottle in my direction and Aiden neutralizes him with a palm to the bottom of the guy’s chin, which makes a snapping sound that makes me cringe as the man flies back and hits the ground, instantly whimpering.
His friend comes to his side, helps him up, and curses at us as they make their way to the exit.
Doc: I’ve already ordered a taxi. This one will be followed by the cops. Get out of there now. For the love of God let me get some sleep.
Me: It’s only, what? 8 PM? Also, Doc, you got to try this beer in Colorado. I’m feeling tipsy as hell.
Doc: That’s because of the altitude, and I don’t care what time it is. I’ve had my vanilla wafers, my glass of Ensure, and Arnie has already tucked me in.
Me: Doesn’t sound too shabby, actually.
Doc: Just get to the hotel, dammit!
Me: Same one Frances is at?
Doc: Yes, and Sophia, but she won’t be stopping. She’ll be delivering Aiden back to my location.
“Well,” I tell Aiden, “it looks like our little night out on the town has to end prematurely. Doc is calling us back, and Frances has promised not to dock my pay if I behave myself.”
“I thought you weren’t getting paid,” says Sophia. “I can’t believe we have to leave. I was just starting to enjoy my drink.”
“Get it to go, there’s no one stopping you.” I throw my thumb at the bar. “The bartender’s already gone. And the waiter, you won’t say anything, will you, Lloyd?”
The waiter, who cowers in the corner, squeaks out a reply. “No, sir, please, just leave before there’s any more violence. I can’t stand violence.”
“Geez Louise,” I say as the three of us exit the bar.
If the two guys that were giving us hell have anything to say as we exit, they keep it to themselves, and I’m okay with that. Ten years from now, those two will remember the time they talked crap to a humandroid and the swiftness of his response. And here I was, just weeks ago, giving humandroids so much crap only to be ready to go to war for one.
Just goes to show that the times they are a-changing.
~*~
We get to the hotel, a two-story flophouse that’s economically friendly, and smells like someone smoked in your room the previous night, the kind of place where the breakfast isn’t the freshest thing you’ve ever had, yet it still hits the spots, and contains enough sodium and carbohydrates to get you through to lunch.
As promised, the aeros descends in front of the place and I get the boot.
“Bye, Quantum,” Aiden says, giving me a fist bump. I think about fist bumping Dr. Wang too, but figure she’d get the wrong idea for some reason and think we’re bu
ddy-buddy.
“Yeah, yeah, see you in the morn. Try and get some sleep tonight, will yah? And Sophia, keep your grubby paws to yourself.”
“What. Ever.”
Morning Assassin laughs. “I was planning on going to Valhalla and doing some looting before the Empress’ guards lock the place down.”
“That’s terrible!”
“It’s normal,” I tell Sophia. “The best time to loot is after a war or a natural disaster. Everybody knows that. Aiden, don’t let her talk you out of it, and do her a solid and look for a great spot for the Knights of Non Compos’ next guildhall. How’s that sound, Doctor Wang?”
“There are better ways to acquire real estate.”
Aiden and I make eye contact and laugh.
“Keep telling yourself that,” I say as the aeros lifts into the sky. It’s a cool night, a couple of stars up above, nothing like the Proxima Galaxy, the OMIB. I’m feeling a little tipsy, but the adrenaline from our almost fight with the local lumberjacks has pretty much killed my buzz. I get to thinking about constellations, but all I can point out is the Big Dipper, or is it the Little Dipper?
I never can tell.
The only problem with thinking about these types of things is that it spawns a bunch of inquiries on GoogleFace, my iNet display lighting up like…
“You really try to get in a bar fight tonight, of all nights?” Frances asks. The big Euphoria stands in front of the entrance of the flophouse, one hand over her mammaries, the other hand at her side. I’ve seen her more pissed than she is right now, but she’s definitely a little agitated, so I decide to tread lightly.
“Honest, Frances, I was just minding my own beeswax. Hanging out with Aiden, and Sophia. She was there too, sort of our handler, if you can believe that. Anyway, these hopped up brosephs, you know the type, real hardasses looking to prove something, come around to our table and start talking smack to Aiden. Well, I wasn’t going to have any of that, in this world, or the galaxy.”
“You’ll never change, will you?” And the way she says this isn’t harsh, nor is there disappointment in her voice; it’s almost as if she has finally accepted who I am, who I’ve been since my two subjective years in the Loop.
“It’s taken you this long to figure that out, Frances? And here I thought you were the brains of the operation.”
She chuckles. “You know, there’s so many things I want to say to you.”
“Nice things, or things I don’t want to hear?”
“Come inside, and trust me, there are things you don’t want to hear.”
“That’s what I was afraid of, but, you know, you can give it a shot if you’d like. I can take criticism.”
She smirks. “Why do I feel like that isn’t exactly the case.”
The sliding glass door opens, we enter, and it shuts behind us. The black woman behind the counter looks up at us, nods curtly, and returns to whatever it is she’s doing.
“What? No welcome?” I ask her.
“Don’t bother her,” says Frances.
“Why not? Colorado’s technically the south, right? Kidding, but I was expecting some southern hospitality.”
“Breakfast will be served tomorrow from six to ten,” the receptionist says, her eyes twitching at my last statement.
“You got pancakes?”
“We have waffles.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Frances rolls her eyes as we step into the hallway, the walls of which are mustard and the carpet of which is a dark maroon, take a right, and go past a couple of rooms and the entrance to the swimming pool. I wouldn’t mind a dip – not in the pool, but a Jacuzzi would be nice, especially against my lower back.
I mention it to Frances, but she shrugs me off.
“I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
“Who said anything about you needing a swimsuit?” I ask her.
“Oh, stop.” She keys into her room, and I see that there are two beds, one with the blankets already parted. Her carry-on suitcase is on the floor, open, a few random face products on the dresser.
“Which one am I sleeping on?” I asked, hoping she says something along the lines of ‘the same one I’m sleeping on.’
“The bed on the right, and no funny business.”
I kick off my Boba Fetts, set my cane near the door, and take the bed on the right. Frances plops down next to me.
“Hey, this is my bed,” I tell her with a grin on my face. “Whatever happened to no funny business?”
“The first time we hooked up was in a hotel room.”
I try to stifle a laugh. “You know, Frances, there’s a lot of people in this world that can say something similar.”
“Real funny, Quantum,” she tells me.
“What can I say? I’m a funny guy.”
There’s a lot of things in this world that I’m expecting: I’m expecting someone to come after me at some point in my life; I’m expecting to wake up tomorrow with back pain; I’m expecting to grumble about the crappy waffles tomorrow and how I wish there were pancakes; I’m expecting to hand Strata his ass tomorrow and end this chapter of my life. What I’m not expecting is for Frances to press forward and kiss me.
“What are you doing?” I ask, pushing her away.
“I can’t be mad at you anymore,” she says, her eyes downcast. “It’s stupid to be mad at you; and actually, I believe you, I believe what you said about being trapped this last time. But it’s hard to believe you. I know that you’ve lied to me before.”
“Off the top of my head, I can’t think of a time that I lied to you. Maybe withheld the truth, but that’s not quite a lie. But sure, if you say so.”
“Anything could happen tomorrow, anything. And I don’t want to have something happen to either of us, or someone we care about, without expressing how I feel about you. And I know I’m stupid for caring about you.”
“Don’t say it like that, babe, I think you’re great. Real swell. And I said before, and I’ll say it again: Frances Euphoria, I…”
She presses her finger to my lips. “Don’t say that.”
“I’ll say whatever I want, dammit,” I tell her as she keeps her finger pressed to my lips.
Her eyes tear up, just a little. “Quantum, I don’t know where this is going after we get through with cleaning up Strata’s mess, but…”
I push her hand away. “Frances Euphoria, I love you, dammit. You know I love you. I’m tired of hiding it, and I’m tired of beating around the bush. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Hell, one could argue that my life was much easier when I was trapped in the Loop. Imagine that. But the Loop is missing one thing that this world contains, the one thing that keeps me going and helps me get up in the morning, and that one thing is you. I just want you to know that I love you.”
“You really mean it?”
“Frances, just in case you were wondering, I don’t go around telling people I love them. Guns? Sure, I’ll tell a gun I love it. A pancake and a beer? Sure, but a person is different. Point is, I don’t use those words lightly, and if there’s anyone I would use them on, it’s you.”
Frances kisses me again. And this time I let her take over, pressing her body into mine until I’m lying on the bed, her legs straddling me, her top already off.
I don’t remember taking it off, and I can barely remember what she was wearing when she first greeted me outside, but I do burn into my memory the color of her bra, which is pink. But not your typical pink, sort of a hot pink. Don’t know why she has a hot pink bra, I mean, the powder pink bra, sure, but hot pink?
And lookee here, I’m mesmerized by it.
I’m mesmerized by her skin, the way she’s hunched over and kissing me, the way it feels to run my fingers along her sides.
I’m a sucker for beautiful women, but I’m a real sucker for a woman whose outside beauty matches her inner beauty, which is exactly what I saw in Dolly…
Nope, shouldn’t have thought that.
“Something wrong?” asks Frances.
“Just keep kissing me,” I tell her, and she obliges.
We keep going at it until both of us are naked, our bodies slapping against each other, making whoopie like it’s nobody’s business. I know she has her morning after shot somewhere around, so I’m not worried at all about protection, and she doesn’t seem too worried either as she grabs my Johnson, changes her position, and puts me back in.
It’s great, I’m loving this, and my lower back is screaming in pain and all I can think is: times are a-changing, and you got to change with those times, Quantum.
And as we’re going at it, Frances mostly in charge due to my gimpiness, I get to thinking about tomorrow’s battle. I can feel it, actually, the war that is to come.
I try to silence those thoughts. I try to focus on Frances, who is on top of me, her hands behind her head as she leans back, moans, presses her body forward.
But something tells me that twenty-four hours from now, things are gonna be a whole lot different. For better or worse? Only time will tell.
Chapter Nine
Morning comes and it’s waffle time. I manage to hobble out of the hotel room before Frances can wake up and give me hell about my diet.
It was a good night, and if we’re not careful, Adolf bin Laden Hughes has a pretty good chance of making his presence known in this world. I wouldn’t let him grow the mustache though, or beard for that matter, and he’d probably get kicked out of public school with that name of his.
As I hobble down to the breakfast area, I wonder if naming someone Adolf will ever be in fashion again, or if that Nazi asshole seriously drove the stake into an okay name. Sure, there are worse names, and there are better names, then there’s my name, the name that I actually like and wish more people had.
Why am I the only person I’ve ever met named Quantum?
It’s thoughts like these that keep me up at night, and if it weren’t for a couple of glaring messages from Sophia flashing across my pane of vision, Dr. Wang giving me her patented ALL CAPS treatment, I probably would’ve slept longer.
I scan the messages she sent again, feeling bad for the woman. If ever there was someone that needed to get laid. It’s too bad that Evan and she can’t just have a relationship, and hell, maybe one day in the future they will, but I suppose she does have a relationship with Chuntao, which must count for something.
Apotheosis Boom (The Feedback Loop Book 8) Page 12