by Chris Sapp
“Occupational hazard. They knew the risk when they signed the contract.”
“Not good enough. I want their families provided for.”
“Absolutely not. I run a business not a charity,” Magus said.
“You’re unbelievable. They died for us.”
“So go weep for them and leave me out of it,” Magnus said.
“You bastard,” Kariah said.
“Are you finished? Or do I need to have Petro and Flynn escort you out?”
“I’m the very definition of finished,” she said. “I quit.”
“What?”
“I quit,” She repeated.
“Preposterous, you can’t quit. You’re my wife. What’s mine is ours. We share a responsibility to the people of the galaxy and that responsibility is Slade Enterprises.”
“Then I want a divorce.”
“Equally preposterous, I won’t allow it,” Magnus said.
“Try and stop me.” She turned towards the exit.
“Kariah,” Magnus called. “Before you do something drastic. I want you to think about something. I’m a Drug lord. I have dozens of bounty hunters at my disposal. One of which is Roe Driskell. There isn’t a place in the galaxy you could hide that he wouldn’t find you. Do we have an understanding?”
She turned back to him.
“Yes,” she said. Fighting back her tears.
“Good. Now since Blair is so good at solving problems I’m placing him in charge of finding me a new desk. One of the trees in the forest will suffice. Don’t you agree?”
“Whatever you want.”
WHENEVER KARIAH WAS upset she found solace in her garden. She would let the tranquility of the nursery act as a balm for her worries. But tonight, although beautiful and vibrant as always, the plants provided no peace. She was miserable. She didn’t want to keep living like this. But she didn’t know what else to do. Magnus wouldn’t let her quit and the bastard wouldn’t give her a divorce. She certainly couldn’t runaway. Roe Driskell was the best bounty hunter in the galaxy and she knew that he would do anything to pay off his debt. He was trying to escape her husband as much as she was. Tears streamed down her face and she walked deeper into the garden. Her hooves traveled the well-worn path, guided by her dismay more than by the light of the moon.
Only when she felt something clinging to her face did she stop. It was a spider web. She looked around and gasped. She had wondered blindly into Cecilia’s nest. Cecilia was a giant arachnid, bio-engineered to be ten times her normal size and just as lethal. Cecilia had shown at lot of aggression towards invaders ever since her mate, Clive, had been shipped over to the stadium in preparation for his debut in the upcoming Crucible Games.
Up ahead, the path passed between two large oak trees but this was where Cecilia’s web was thickest, so Kariah took a tentative step backwards. She looked up and saw that the web was interlaced with the branches above her head as well. She knew that every time she touched the web, it sent a vibration along the lines of silk to the center of the web where Cecilia was waiting patiently for her prey.
Kariah started to take another step back but she halted. Perhaps this was the answer to her problem. She could escape Magnus’ web by becoming trapped in Cecilia’s. There were worse ways to die, then being devoured by a fifty pound spider. Magnus wouldn’t let her quit or leave. So what other choice besides death did she have? Embracing her destiny however short it may be, she took three long strides forward. Dozens of spider web strands broke against her skin. She didn’t bother cleaning them off her face or pulling them from her hair. She plunged forward another three strides. The two trees were directly in front of her now. Once she passed through them, escape would be impossible. He hands trembled and tears fell freely down her cheeks. She didn’t want to die. But she saw no other way to end her misery. Death was the only answer. She was about to rush forward and pass the point of no return but the sound of movement behind her froze her hooves. She stood perfectly still. Her heart was racing. Had Cecilia been so eager for a late night snack, that she had snuck up behind her prey. Kariah wanted to turn around and look but her legs wouldn’t move. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable bite that would take her life.
But it never came.
She had just about convinced herself that the sounds had all been in her head when she heard them again. A slight rustling of leaves. Something striking a branch, not hard enough to snap it, but just enough to make it vibrate in the air. Cecilia was still there, stalking her. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. It should be Magnus that was being stalked by a giant killer spider, not her. What had she ever done to deserve such a gruesome fate? She was the best chemist in the galaxy and despite all of Magnus’s complaints she had done everything she could to be a good wife. It wasn’t her fault that their child had been born defective. That was fate or karma. She had been willing to love the child and raise it as her own. Magnus was the one that had despised it. He was the one that ordered her to kill it. He was the one…She gasped as if she’d been bitten. An idea spread through her being like venom. Only a few moments ago she had been so certain that death was her only option. But why did it have to be her death? Why couldn’t it be Magnus? She spun and galloped at full speed away from the two oak trees. She expected Cecilia to appear on the path, thus cutting off her escape route. But the spider never showed. Kariah ran all the way back to the pond where she collapsed on the green grass. Her breath came in ragged gasps and her lungs burned. But it was good to be alive. She felt stupid for what she had almost done. But if she hadn’t blundered down that path, then the solution to her problem might not have ever occurred to her. For the first time, in a long time, she had a reason to live. A purpose that would get her out of bed in the mornings. She was going to kill her husband, the great Magnus Slade.
IZABEL
CRAMPS TWISTED HER intestines again and this time she fell. Her knees landed in a puddle, splashing the filthy water into her already filthy face. She was doubled over in a dark narrow alley behind a liquor store. Holding her stomach, she closed her eyes and waited for the latest episode of pain to subside. She was so damn hungry. But she couldn't spare even one credit on food. Her only chance of avoiding detox was Spanky. If he wasn't willing to loan her the difference so she could buy her morphagens then she was done. Goodbye Izabel the elf, Hello Izabel the slave. Her cramps finally released their hold on her innards and she forced herself to get up. She took a step forward and froze. There was a figure like she had never seen before standing at the mouth of the alley. The creature was staring at her with red glowing eyes. No, eyes weren’t quite right. The glow looked mechanical not organic. It was wrapped head-to-toe in some sort of cloth. A section of the cloth had come loose and the frayed end was blowing in the night wind. The figure stood perfectly still and so did Izabel. They were locked in a silent game of statues. Izabel noticed that thing’s right arm was exposed. It was thin and shiny. Like metal. Her staring opponent looked like a robot mummy with glowing red lenses. Another wave of stomach cramps crashed and she fell to her knees for the second time in less than five minutes. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to block out the pain. After what felt like an eternity, the cramps dissipated and she opened her eyes. The robot mummy was gone. The mouth of the alley was clear. She knew that sleep deprivation could cause hallucinations. Was it the same for starvation? It didn’t matter. Whether the robot mummy had been real or imagined, it was gone. She got to her feet and stumbled forward.
She emerged from the alley onto the sidewalk of Organ Street. Spanky's was on Cello Street. Two blocks over. Still holding her stomach, she put one foot in front of the other. More fortunate people with more important matters shoved past her. Each jolt sent a fresh wave of cramps through her stomach. She wanted to double-over but she didn't. She knew if she stopped moving she would never get going again and she'd detox right here on the cracked sidewalk. There was a large apartment complex on the corner of Organ and Lyric Street. She could see a trash dum
pster from the sidewalk. She headed towards it. She couldn't help herself. The cramps were a constant affliction now. She slid the metal door aside and found a pile of overstuffed trash bags. The stench was incredible. She would've thrown up if she'd had anything to throw up. She tore into the bag on top of the pile with both hands. The first thing she saw was a bag from a local burger joint. There was no burger only a wadded up wrapper. But there were a couple of fries at the bottom of the bag. She ate them. They were stale and soggy. Her cramps returned almost immediately. But instead of a cry for food this seemed to be a cry for more.
She tossed the fast food bag aside and kept looking. There was an empty egg crate, a dried up apple core, and a milk carton containing at least three good swallows. But it was curdled and greenish in color. She passed.
She found the cup that had been purchased with the burger and fries. It was a quarter of the way full. She discarded the lid and straw and gulped the liquid down. It was soda of some kind but way too watery to nail down. The next item on the menu was a nearly empty soup can. She licked it clean. It was cold, salty, and noodle-less. The highlight of her garbage banquet was an unfinished loaf of bread. There was three good slices plus the heel. For dessert she found a half-eaten candy bar. Milk chocolate not dark. It was amazing. She was licking the wrapper clean when she heard approaching footsteps. It was just a tenant wanting to throw away their trash. She wasn't too proud to eat other people's garbage. But she was too proud to do it in front of the previous owner. She continued up Organ Street towards Cello. Surprisingly, her stomach was feeling a little better and walking didn't seem to be so tasking.
It was a little after eleven p.m. when she reached Spanky's. As usual the parking lot was busy. Aspiring musicians unloading their gear. Patrons lounging on their hoverbikes or huddled in conversation. The only familiar faces she saw were two vampyrs. But they were too preoccupied to notice her. Apparently one of them had dropped an amp and they were arguing over whose fault it was. They were members of the band LockJaw. She climbed the wooden steps and was about to push open the door when she heard the melody. It was faint. But there was no mistaking the song. Tender Years by The Phaes. It wasn't coming from inside. It was behind her. She turned around. There was a group of patrons huddled by the railing. The music was coming from somewhere inside that huddle. Without thinking about it she moved towards them. The music wasn't being played live. It sounded too small for that. The audio was coming from some sort of digital device. Phaelan's vocals joined the acoustic guitar. What she was hearing or more accurately the lack of what she was hearing made her heart skip a beat. The guitar riffs were acoustic instead of electric. Phaelan's strained vocals instead of a harmonized pair. The group was watching a replay of Phaelan's suicide video. She didn't think her heart could handle watching the video again but apparently her feet were willing to take the risk. She spotted the data pad between two hips and an elbow. It was propped up on the back of a hoverbike. The group was so immersed in the video that they didn't notice her ease-watching. The screen was small. No more than 9 inches. The song was almost over. Phaelan was singing the first line of the last verse. His tears matching the somber words. She didn't want to see her father commit suicide again but she couldn't look away. She was frozen. She watched his hands because watching his face made her cry. She didn't want to cry. She'd reached her daily limit. The years of practice were evident in the way Phaelan's fingers flew across the strings. He was amazing and he...
He was playing a Leo.
The air caught in her lungs. She couldn't breathe. Phaelan couldn't be playing a Leo. That was impossible. She darted into the huddle.
"Hey!" she heard someone yell. But she didn't care. She had to get a closer look. She picked up the data pad. The guitar was a Leo all right. But that didn't make any sense. Phaelan only played Orvilles. He hated Leos. Why would he choose to play an acoustic Leo for his final performance? Acoustic? But Phaelan couldn't play an acoustic Leo. He was severely allergic to the wood Leo used. Oh my God! This isn't my Daddy! This is a fake! She was suddenly jerked backwards and the data pad flew out of her hands.
ROE
THE FIRST THING Roe noticed about his one-thousandth stray was how short she was for an elf. The second was that her hair was dyed bright pink. She was currently trying to squirm out of the hands of a nine foot tall ogre. Priority one? Yeah, right.
"I've got you now. You thievin' bitch!" roared the Ogre.
"I'm not a thief,” argued his stray.
"Then why'd you try to steal my shit?" The ogre was mean, black, and ugly. Roe hoped he didn't have to fight him. He wasn't scared. He just wasn't in the fucking mood.
"I wasn't trying to steal it!” His stray continued to squirm but she wasn't getting anywhere. "I was just looking at it."
"How 'bout I rip off your head and mount it on the front of my bike? Just so people can look at it."
"That would be a bad idea,” interjected Roe. Both the elf and the ogre looked at him.
"Stay outta this. Or you're next,” warned Ugly the ogre.
"Let her go,” Roe commanded.
Still holding the elf by the throat, the ogre turned his full attention towards Roe. "This is your last warning--
"No. It's your’s,” he said, holding up his badge. "Let her go or I'll charge you with obstruction of justice."
"That shit ain't real."
By the Gods, he’s both ugly and stupid, thought Roe.
"Actually, I think it is,” said a brown ogre in Ugly's posse. "That's Roe Driskell." Roe saw recognition flash across Ugly's face. Hopefully the recognition could find his brain. Apparently, it did. Because Ugly relaxed his guard and shoved the girl towards him. Roe caught her before she fell to the ground.
“You gentlemen have a goodnight,” Driskell said.
"Thanks man,” she said. “I think that douche really was going to rip my--Hey!" Roe dragged his stray around Spanky's bar and into the back alley. San Andreas skies were a clusterfuck on Saturday nights. So he'd docked his ship at the spaceport and navigated the city's back alleys on his hoverbike.
"Hey! Let go of me!" She protested.
“Stand still, miss," he said as he applied her hand to his data pad. The elf's eyes grew wide with alarm.
"Wait. That badge is actually real?"
By the Gods, is there something in the water? He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to stand still. Once the palm scan was complete he glanced at the results. Positive ID, Izabel Ramsey. "Izabel Ramsey, you're under arrest for violating the law put forth by the Morphagen Order.”
"Wait! Please." Her eyes were welling up with tears. He ignored it and slapped a pair of handcuffs around her wrist. The handcuffs were designed for bounty hunters. A thick cable connected the handcuffs to the bike. So if a stray decided to jump off the bike while it was in the air, the cable would catch them, spoiling any escape attempt.
Roe lit a cigarette, sat down on the bike, and fired up the engine. When his stray didn't climb on, he looked back at her. She was just standing there. "Get on."
"No. I need to explain."
He killed the engine and got off the bike. "Save your explanations for Magnus Slade. He gets paid to listen to them, not me. Plus, there's nothing you can say that I haven't heard before a hundred times." Over nine hundred and ninety-nine times, actually.
"My father is Phaelan Lennox."
The rockstar that just wasted himself, Roe thought.
"Yeah, right."
"I'm serious. I’m his bastard daughter. He set up a trust fund for me. But I lost that when I lost him. That's why I don't have any credits for morphagens."
"Okay. I take it back. I haven't heard that one before. Now get on." He glared at her.
"I'm telling you the truth."
"Maybe you are. But it's not my concern. Now get on. I won't say it again."
She did. Finally. He lifted the bike into the air until they were ten feet off the ground. He gave it some throttle and off they went. The elf hadn't wrapped h
er arms around his waist so he hoped she was using the handle on the seat between them. He was in a foul mood and if she fell off, he'd probably let her hang all the way to the spaceport. The skies above were still clogged with traffic. He'd use the alleys until he got out of the Harmony district.
He had just turned around a corner when something lurched out of the shadows and collided with him. The force of the impact was enough to bounce the hoverbike off the adjacent wall. The elf screamed and so did the bike. Roe was so preoccupied with maintaining control of the bike that it took him a second to realize that the shadow was still attached. It was a costly a second.
"Evenin',” said the blue skinned, red eyed shadow, that Roe now recognized as Larkin Grundy. Before he could react, Larkin head-butted him in the face. Acrid smoke flooded his eyes and pain flooded his senses. He was vaguely aware of being thrown off the bike. He was more aware of bouncing off the brick wall and meeting the concrete down below.
Other than his nose, nothing was broken. But the loud explosion, probably meant that his bike hadn't faired as well. He waved the smoke out of his eyes and looked around. Yep, there was the smoldering wreckage that used to be his hoverbike. He didn't know where the elf girl was. He tried to get up and something pounced on his back, forcing him back down.
"Don't bother getting up, Driskell. You're gonna be here awhile,” Larkin said. Larkin’s bones were hollow and his muscles were rail-thin from lack of use, but he was still fairly heavy. At least Roe knew where the bastard was.
"Have you gained weight?" Roe asked.
"I have actually. Thanks for noticing.”
Roe could hear the smile in Larkin's voice. At least he was in a joking mood. He could be a real asshole when he wasn't.
"Can I at least roll over?" Roe asked, “Lying on your stomach is bad for your back."
"Sure. But if you try anythin'. I'll kill ya and that'll put a hell of a wrinkle in my plans,” Larkin said.