by Michael Todd
He looked up from his pad and blinked. “Oh, Kennedy. I didn’t realize you were coming today.”
“Well, some shit came up,” she explained, moved in closer, and peeked at the display on the pad. She made a face when she finally saw it. “You know, I hear that the dialogue in these movies is the worst.”
“It’s not like there’s a wide variety of choices out here,” Boulos argued but hastily removed the porn from the screen. “I’d kill for a satellite internet connection—and not only for access to decent porn.”
Madigan shrugged. “Hey, I’m with you on that. Although people like you and me are probably the reason why they decided to skimp on the satellite connection and forced us to use the highly regulated base server instead.”
Boulos laughed. “Well, I’m glad to know that I’m not alone here. But enough about hypothetical porn access. What can I do for you today, Kennedy?”
“Well,” she said, “it looks like Jacobs and I are going into the Zoo again sooner than expected, so I’m really here in the hope that you’re done with my armor so we can get it out there.”
He nodded. “It’s basically finished. I only need to tweak the sensors a little. I saw a couple of problems that came from buggy hardware, so I fixed that. I’ll finish it off and have it over to you tonight if that’s okay.”
“That works,” Madigan responded. “I also hoped that you could fix me up with something for Jacobs.”
Boulos tilted his head. “I thought he already had a specialist suit?”
“He does,” she replied. “But I wondered if you had something that worked more like a hybrid. Folk expect him to take on the responsibilities of a gunner more and more, and while he’s shouldered it like a champ, I have to keep his ass alive—at least until I get the big payout that I joined his company for.”
The store manager nodded and turned his attention to his pad. “I think I have something for you. It has some power armor functionality, especially an armored gun arm that’s fitted for some of the newer, bigger assault rifles that they make, but it’s still relatively nimble. It’s as close to a hybrid as I have within your budget. How will you pay for this, by the way?”
“Put it on the company’s bill,” she said. “I’ll talk to Jacobs about it, and if he doesn’t want it there, I can eat it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Madigan shrugged. “Again, all the costs that I end up paying myself are considered investments in the company, all of which add up to the percentages that I’ll receive when we make it big.”
Boulos looked impressed. “It sounds like you have all the business details figured out.”
“Well, I have the getting paid part figured, anyway.” She grinned at him. “After that, all the decisions get a whole lot easier.”
“That’s basically it in a nutshell, to be honest. I’ll have all the stuff delivered to your place in the mor—” He paused when she raised an eyebrow. “This evening. I’ll have it delivered in a few hours.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear, Boulos.” She winked at him. “See you on the flip side.”
“You’d best survive this trip, Kennedy,” he said as she walked away. “You and Jacobs are my best customers.”
“Best?”
“Well, favorite, anyway,” he conceded. “Good luck.”
“You too.”
Chapter Thirteen
Sal leaned closer to the screen and studied the display. About six months ago, if he’d been shown a picture like this, he would have immediately called bullshit. Something about that kind of cranial structure had no place on Earth—nor something of that size, either. For a moment, he was forced to wonder what kind of life he would now live if he hadn’t come all the way over there to risk his life at the cutting edge of biology.
Well, his sex life had certainly received a jump start since he’d arrived. He also exercised a lot more, so that was a bonus.
But all in all, this was the stuff he lived for. The first picture was incredibly blurry and made defining what he looked at difficult. The eyes were spread like a praying mantis’, but the animal had an endoskeleton and bone structure that told him that whatever the goop was, it liked to mix and match various kinds of animals and plants together. It almost seemed like it tried to find an ideal creature—evolution mixed with genetic splicing. In most western countries, this kind of experimental shit was illegal, which in turn explained why so many people were interested in the results.
He leaned back, rubbed his eyes, and shook his head. A couple more pictures were somewhat clearer and revealed a projection of the torso that was segmented like an insect’s but also furred like a mammal’s. It only had four legs, though. Comparing sizes was a little difficult.
The reason why he stared at the very blurry image was that it was the only shot of the creature from the front and thus gave him an unimpeded if fuzzy view of the thing’s head. The specialist had obviously panicked and perhaps thought that the creature had looked directly at him, but with eyes mounted like that on such an odd skull, it had clearly already seen the man and looked around to identify any other threats.
He made another note that the eyes’ positioning on the skull indicated an herbivorous diet, although he put a question mark on that. It was clear that this was not the animal that had attacked and killed the specialist in question, but it was still new. Nothing in the database indicated the existence of something like this, which made Sal wonder how much the discovery was worth.
There were sections of the animal that certainly classified it as a “rare species”—the kind that weren’t already existing creatures with logical enhancements to size, strength, and agility, but were actually combinations of different creatures as well as additions that weren’t even on record for existing animals. Rare animals were those that also brought in the heftiest paydays. It was difficult to really say what these creatures were capable of, but Sal felt that this sort of thing was what he was supposed to be both fascinated and terrified by.
It was his favorite combination.
The whitepaper had begun to take shape. Thankfully, whoever the late specialist was, they had been thorough in their documentation of the animals that they encountered. While the creature that he was looking at was the only one of note, there were also a number of additions he needed to make to some of the animals that were already in the database.
He looked outside, surprised to see that the sun had already set. Time really did seem to fly when he had fun. He leaned back in his seat, and the cheap office chair that had been provided with the apartment squealed under the strain.
Why had Madigan felt the need to come to him when he was asleep? Was she drunk and simply in need of a fuck? Did she not want to wake him? Did she think that if she woke him, he might not be in the mood?
Well, she would have had a point, he realized. To wake him in the middle of a nap was a gamble. He’d either wake up willing and able or angry and sleepy.
He stretched his arms above his head and groaned lazily. His nap hadn’t had the intended effect, and he already felt weary. That added to the fact that he would probably not have another good night’s sleep for what could be up to a week in the Zoo meant that he might want to simply complete this whitepaper, enter it into the database, and check if the payment came through in the morning. Madigan would understand if he put off their meeting.
Then again, he realized that, too, was something of a lottery. Of the Russian variety.
He put a note on the creature’s apparent lack of six limbs in a separate file. He wanted to add enough to the database for him and the squad to get their payday, but he also wanted to retain the more complete store of information about the animals in the Zoo for himself. Nothing that might compromise the lives of the soldiers in there, but definitely the kind that would bring profit once he was able to complete his collection.
Holy shit, he hoped that his selective sharing of information didn’t put lives in danger.
As she opened her eyes, she
dreaded the sensation of light that seared her eyeballs. The darkness that greeted her was an intense relief.
It was the only kind of relief that she would have for a while, she mused. A vague sensation of vertigo filled her body, followed quickly by the very familiar feeling of nausea. Her mouth was dry, and her body ached vaguely all over.
“Damn it,” she murmured and pushed herself up from the ground. She’d tried to get to bed, at least, which showed that she’d had some presence of mind. Still, she hadn’t been that drunk. Drunker than she’d ever been before—she could concede that much—but nothing like the stories she’d heard from her friends in the sorority that her mother had pressured her to join of how they’d blacked out. Memories of what had happened while she was drunk were unclear, but they were there.
The relief that washed over her was quickly pushed aside when she realized that her thighs were sore as well as what lay between them. She hadn’t been a prude in college, despite that she never drank as much as her “sisters” had, and she knew that feeling very well, even though she hadn’t experienced it in a while.
The memory of where it had come from rushed in too. The feeling of need as she’d stepped into Sal’s apartment. Her lowered inhibitions had overridden her moral compass to allow her to take what she’d wanted, no matter the fact that he hadn’t even been conscious enough to know what she’d given, nor by whom it had been given.
The memory of him hardening in her hand brought that need back to her, but there was also a sensation of disgust that pushed it easily to the back of her mind.
“Holy shit,” she whispered and rubbed her temples, which now pounded painfully. “What the hell did I do? Although he was happy to be involved and he’d moaned and helped me along.”
She stumbled to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, then hunted for aspirin to take with it. It would very likely bring little relief, but it would have to be enough. She needed her mind clear.
“What can you offer a guy to make him forget the fact that you essentially raped him?” she wondered aloud as she gulped the pill and water down. “I mean, I could always not tell him. The fact that I didn’t wake up in cuffs tells me that he didn’t call the authorities.” That said, there was no way to know exactly what and how much he remembered. It could all be a dream to him, or he could remember everything.
It was a risk that she would have to take. She couldn’t keep this to herself, especially if she wanted to work with him. Shit. Them. Did she have to tell Kennedy? Well, maybe Sal could do that for her and spare her the trouble.
She needed a shower first, though. Courtney quickly stripped off the clothes that she still wore from the day before and stepped into the shower. She sighed as she felt hot water wash over her bare skin and almost hoped that it would help change her mind about what she had to do, but no such luck.
“Fuck,” she whispered and scrunched her eyes tightly closed.
Madigan shook her head. The alcohol had begun to clear from her system, and despite her best efforts to rehydrate herself, she still hadn’t managed to ward off all the effects of the drinking. Her mouth felt like the desert outside, and she knew the vague pounding that had started in her head would only get worse.
There was only one hope now, and that was that she wouldn’t still be hung over come morning. Which meant she had to get some food and water in her system.
She shook her head, dressed again, and headed to the mess hall. The place wasn’t as busy as it could have been, she realized. It was already past rush hour. Most folks came to eat around six or seven, and it was already eight-thirty.
Despite the fact that her stomach rebelled against each bite, she forced herself to eat, and thankfully, it seemed to settle a little more with each mouthful.
Her cure had already begun to work.
She complimented the meal of mashed potatoes, steak, and string beans with soda to help ease her sensitive stomach further.
There was still no promise that she would function efficiently in the morning. Then again, if she was hung over, it wouldn’t be the first time she went out into the Zoo absolutely wasted. In fact, when she thought about it, there were more than a few of her earlier trips of which she had no memory of the first day or so.
She smirked. Rose-tinted goggles or not, those had been good times. Still, she felt like times were about to get better. She smirked, pushed to her feet, and once she’d punched her use of the mess hall in, she left. Fucking freelancing meant she was charged for everything she used. It was par for the course when it came to government-run facilities, and this place was no different. It still stung given the many years’ service she had behind her.
Madigan stepped outside and breathed in the cool desert air.
“What do you know?” she said to herself. “I do feel better.” Was it weird that the more time she spent with Sal, the more she talked to herself? She wondered if he realized he did it. There had been a few times when she’d spend the night and woke up to him muttering like he was in the middle of an argument with himself.
Then again, she had seen him argue with other people. She would never tell him to his face, but he was the smartest man she knew. Having an argument with himself was the only way his opponent even stood a chance to get a word in.
She decided not to call for an JLTV. Sure, she did have some quasi-religious objections to walking anywhere she didn’t have to, but like everything else in the damned base, she had to pay for that too. Well, she always charged it back to Heavy Metal, but she still felt guilty. She knew that Sal knew what she did, but he never confronted her about it. That was the worst part.
Kennedy gritted her teeth. Maybe she could walk tonight. It was in that twilight hour where the place still absorbed the heat from the sand that had been blasted by the sun all day. Everything in the desert cooled off quickly, though.
It was the perfect temperature for a nice walk through the Staging Area.
“He’s making me a better person,” she complained. “Or a more conscientious one, anyway.”
She set off and paced herself like she did when she was in the Zoo, making sure to maintain a constant speed. Her boots struck the pavement in a neat, almost musical rhythm.
Was this what meditation was like? She’d never been able to do it when she sat cross-legged and chanted inanities. But losing herself in the repetitive movement and rhythm of walking allowed time to pass quicker. While she would have preferred to drive, she certainly could get used to this walking stuff.
Not that she would do it often. Sal had made her more conscientious, not a masochist.
She blinked, and her mind slipped out of the daze that she’d dropped into when someone stepped into her path. Someone who hadn’t seen her and yet headed in the same direction.
Madigan narrowed her eyes and focused on the figure now slightly ahead of her. They were between streetlights, which made it difficult to see who it was, but the flicker of light on short blonde hair, plus the distinctive half strutting gait that she’d come to recognize, told her it was Courtney.
The fact that she was there wasn’t too hard to explain. The specialist lived in the area and only a few blocks away, in fact. Where she was going made less sense, though. She moved away from her own home toward the houses on the outskirts.
When the woman turned into the street that Sal lived on, Kennedy felt less like they were walking the same path and more like she was a stalker. Like she was some sort of psycho, jealous girlfriend who followed the women that her man hung out with.
It wasn’t a pleasant sensation, she realized. She didn’t feel jealous, but the thought that Sal might think she was didn’t sit well with her.
They moved closer to Sal’s home. Madigan wondered if denial was the reason why she had somehow convinced herself that Courtney was going somewhere else, right up to the moment that she went down the path that led to his door. She gritted her teeth as the specialist knocked.
Had Sal called her there? Was this some sort of planned tryst
?
It took him longer than anticipated to answer the door, and the blonde knocked again, more insistently this time.
“I’m coming, damn it,” Kennedy heard him say, and a few seconds later, light flowed into the darkened street and he stood in the doorway.
“Courtney?” Sal asked, and a confused smile played on his lips. “What are you doing here?”
Well, at least it didn’t seem like he had expected her, Madigan thought. Small victories.
“Hey, Sal…Jacobs,” his visitor said and shook her head.
“You can call me Sal,” he said with a chuckle.
“Sure, Sal,” Courtney said and brushed her hair quickly out of her face with a small smile. “I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”
“Uh… Yeah, sure.” He stepped aside so she could enter. Madigan scrunched her face with the effort to resist the urge to walk up to the door before he closed it again, announce her arrival, and interrupt whatever it was that the other woman was there to say.
The nice feeling that she’d had before disappeared. She wasn’t jealous. Definitely not. But it still felt odd that she wasn’t happy about Sal talking to Courtney alone.
Seriously, she reminded herself, she wasn’t jealous. She simply didn’t like it. It wasn’t like he was her husband or anything and she had no real claim on him. They simply worked together and had a little fun on the side. Who was she to claim exclusive rights to his fun?
Okay, maybe she might be a teeny bit jealous.
Chapter Fourteen
“So,” Sal said and looked expectantly at Courtney, who had taken a seat on his couch. “What brings you here to my neck of the very proverbial woods?” He moved to the kitchen and filled two glasses with water. He would have offered her something else if he had it. He really needed to restock with something that wasn’t dry crackers that tasted stale no matter how new the packaging said they were.