by Jake Bible
“I’ll never stop loving that,” he said.
Mascholine pushed both hands against his chest.
“Whoa there, stud,” she said. “No L word, you hear?”
“I love how your skin glows,” he said. “I don’t love you. You suck.”
“Good idea,” Mascholine said and shoved Rage over onto his back.
Her turn to slide down his body, kissing as much of his chiseled form as she could before she got to his good stuff. Rage closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment of pleasure.
For about two seconds…
“Hey, Mom?” Junior called over the comms.
“What the actual fuck?” Rage snapped. “How’d he get past the comms block?”
Mascholine sat up and sighed. “What, Junior?”
“There are three police officers here that want to talk with Rage,” Junior said. “I told them to go away, but one hit me in the face.”
“At least that happened,” Rage said as he swung his legs off the bed and grabbed for his jeans.
“What are their names?” Mascholine asked as she hopped off the bed and started getting dressed. She smacked Rage on his ass then leaned in for a quick kiss. “We’ll get back to this later.”
“It’s four in the morning,” Rage said, pulling on his T-shirt.
“You got somewhere to be later other than at the front door when the sun goes down?” Mascholine asked, turning in a lazy, confused circle. “Where is my damn bra?”
“Leave it off,” Rage said. “Let the pigs gawk at your nips.”
“Good plan,” she said then nodded at the door. “I’ll go first and do the talking. You hang back. Stay quiet unless you get a signal from me. Who knows what these porkers want.”
“You’re the boss,” Rage said. He opened his bedside table and grabbed a triple-barreled heavy pistol. Mascholine frowned and shook her head. “Come on. What if they draw down on us?”
“They’d have brought shock troops if they wanted to kill you,” Mascholine said.
Rage put the huge pistol back in the drawer. “Fine.”
He growled low as he left his small apartment, following close behind Mascholine. They wound their way down the stairs to the main floor. Standing by the bar were three human cops, each wearing the tackiest suits that Rage had ever seen. Junior was hiding in his corner booth again, his eyes barely visible above the table’s surface. Mascholine pointed at him and he scrambled out from the booth and scurried to the backroom.
“Gentlemen,” Mascholine said once her son was gone. “There a reason you’re here at the ass crack of dawn? We don’t serve breakfast even though it smells like bacon in here now.”
“Cute, Mascholine,” one of the men said.
He was tall, fat, and had a head like a sideways watermelon with ears stuck on it. His suit was bright pink with blue piping. The man made a point of sweeping his suit jacket back so everyone could see his badge and his gun.
“Get to it, Detective Labous,” Mascholine snapped as she sat down on a stool at the far end of the bar. The three cops started to walk toward her, but she held her hand up. “That’s close enough. You’ll want to keep our distance. My security bot gets twitchy in the early hours.”
There was a mechanical clang and snort from the far corner of the room. Then the distinctive sound of mechanical snoring.
“Yeah. I’m worried,” Detective Labous said.
“You gonna introduce us to your friends?” Mascholine asked, reaching over the bar to grab a bottle of whiskey. She poured two glasses and held one up at her shoulder. Rage reached over her and took the glass, downing it in one gulp. Mascholine grinned. “Get you boys a drink too?”
“On duty,” Detective Labous replied. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Detectives Nast and Zell.”
The two men were as generic human as nature could provide. Bland tan skin with bland brown eyes and bland brown hair. They stared at Rage with bland expressions.
Mascholine grimaced. “Are they alive? Is the department using reanimated corpses now? I mean, with how humanoid genetics have mixed over the centuries, couldn’t the department have hired two guys that at least glow in the dark? Way better optics, Detective.”
“What do you want, asshole?” Rage snarled.
Mascholine closed her eyes and shook her head.
“You,” Detective Labous said, looking past Mascholine to fix his eyes on Rage. “You had a little dustup tonight.”
“Just doing my job,” Rage said. “Some frat boys got mad at some Terbelians for sliming up the dance floor. Riot started. I ended it.”
“Wrong dustup,” Detective Labous said as he waved a hand in the air. Nothing happened. He frowned at Mascholine. “No hologram projector in here?”
“Not one open to pigs,” Mascholine replied.
Detective Labous waited. Mascholine waited with him. Detective Labous groaned then snapped his fingers. One of the others, Nast or Zell, incredibly hard to tell them apart, stepped forward and opened his palms. A holographic image of Rage tussling with the Charbeshun in the novelty shop came to life before their eyes.
“What can you tell me about this?” Detective Labous asked Rage.
“Some punk-ass Charbeshun ambushed me and I kicked its ass,” Rage said. Then the flash of red light appeared in the holograph and the Charbeshun was obliterated. “With some help.”
“It’s that help I need to know about,” Detective Labous said. “Who are you working with, Rage? You know you’ve been banned for life from performing military duties, right? Earth Corp has your file locked and sealed with a big warning on it that no one is allowed to work with you, for you, or near you on any type of military job.”
“A smoke freak tackled me through a wall them someone shot it,” Rage said with a shrug. “Nothing military there. That’s just Greenville.”
“Wrong answer,” Detective Labous said. He snapped his fingers again and Nast or Zell or whichever one it was closed his palms and the holograph went away. “How about you come down to the station with me and we make this formal?”
“Got a warrant?” Mascholine asked, sipping her whiskey.
“Don’t need one for a convicted war criminal,” Detective Labous said. “Rage massacred his superior officers. Under Earth Corp laws and regs, he forfeits all human rights. I technically could kill him now and there wouldn’t even be an investigation.”
“You can try, but I wouldn’t advise it,” Rage said.
“Me neither,” Detective Labous said. “So I’ll ask nicely one more time before I call for backup. How about you come down to the station and we make this formal?”
“I’ll call my lawyer,” Mascholine said, standing up and patting Rage on the shoulder. “Go with the pig and we’ll have you out before breakfast.” Mascholine sneered at Detective Labous. “Gonna eat some extra bacon this morning.”
“Funny,” Detective Labous said. “Rage? We gonna have a problem?”
“You want to waste your time? Then fine by me,” Rage said and walked willingly over to the detectives. Nast and Zell flanked him but they were dwarfed by Rage’s size.
“I’ll get you out soon!” Mascholine called as Rage was escorted out of the bar. “We weren’t quite finished!”
Rage smirked then the smirk fell away as he saw the six dozen shock troops waiting in the street for him.
“All this for little old me?” Rage asked. “I’m flattered, asshole.”
Detective Labous pointed up. Rage followed the direction of his finger. Two dozen SWAT vans with full cannons trained on Rage hovered just above Crater Ray’s.
“Now you’re just showing off,” Rage said and let himself be led to a slowly lowering SWAT van with its rear doors wide open.
Five
The coffee tasted better than cat piss, but only slightly. Rage downed his third cup and held the mug out to Detective Nast. Or Zell. Rage had zero idea which it was.
“More, please,” Rage said in a horrible British accent.
Nast or Z
ell only stared at the mug as he sat lazily in the chair across the table from Rage. When it was obvious he wasn’t getting more cat piss coffee, Rage threw the mug over his shoulder and grinned as it shattered against the wall. Nast or Zell didn’t flinch, his expression still just as bland as if Rage had done nothing.
“You really are a reanimated corpse, ain’t ya?” Rage asked. “Tell me, you useless glob of flesh, did you see a light at the end of a tunnel when you died? Or was it all black before they brought you back?”
The door to the interview room opened and Detective Labous came in, a tablet in his hand and a pained expression on his face.
“Your lawyer is already here,” Detective Labous said. “But, like I said back at the bar, you have no rights anymore, so that slimeball out there is going to be stalled for as long as this interview takes.”
Detective Labous looked up from his tablet, clocked the broken mug, glanced at Zell or Nast, then shrugged.
“You’ve got him worked up, Rage,” Detective Labous continued. “That’ll be all, Zell.”
Zell stood up, gave Rage a bland stare, then left the room.
“How do you tell them apart?” Rage asked.
Detective Labous sat down without answering and went back to perusing the tablet. Rage grunted, folded his arms across his chest, and waited.
Fifteen silent minutes later, Detective Labous put the tablet down, looked up at Rage, and laid his hands on the table, palms down.
“When were you first contacted by Ms. Peem?” Detective Labous asked.
“Don’t know a Ms. Peem,” Rage answered.
“You spent most of the night with her husband splattered all over you,” Detective Labous said, pushing the tablet across the table to Rage.
Rage glanced down at the image and saw a mugshot of a Charbeshun. He had no idea if it was the same one that had attacked him or not. The aliens were made of smoke and Rage had found them harder to tell apart than Nast and Zell.
“If you say so,” Rage replied, shoving the tablet back then refolding his arms over his chest.
“I do. I do,” Detective Labous said. “So? Ms. Peem paid you how much to kill her husband?”
“I don’t know a Peem,” Rage said. “I don’t know that Charbeshun. Guy ambushed me and started spouting gibberish. Then he was shot, exploded everywhere, and ruined my favorite T-shirt.”
“Isn’t that the same one?” Detective Labous asked, glancing at Rage’s black T-shirt.
“No, you moron, it’s not,” Rage snapped. “You’re a detective and you can’t tell the difference between T-shirts? Idiot…”
“Monochromatic fashion sense aside, Rage, you’re still not convincing me you don’t know what is going on,” Detective Labous said. “Come clean about Ms. Peem and I can make sure you get life on one of the labor colonies instead of the death penalty.”
“Your kindness knows no bounds,” Rage said. He leaned forward and six plasma blasters appeared from the walls, all trained on him. Rage ignored the weapons. “I. Have. No. Idea. What. You. Are. Talking. About.”
“Rage, Rage, Rage,” Detective Labous said, looking forlorn. He gave Rage a sad smile. “Do you miss it?”
Rage blinked a few times before responding. “Miss what? Be specific, asshole.”
“The life. The military. Working for Earth Corp as a SpecOps badass,” Detective Labous explained. “Do you miss it?”
“You mean do I miss being able to massacre alien scum and kill anyone that gets in my way without consequence?” Rage sneered. “Yeah. I miss it. Especially right now.”
“I’m not alien scum,” Detective Labous said.
“You’re a cop. Close enough,” Rage replied.
“I’d think you’d have more respect for those of us that are doing our civic and corporate duty, Rage. I’m not much different than you were.”
“Can you crush this table into scrap with your bare hands?”
“No…”
“Then we’re a lot different.”
“Is that what you miss about the job, Rage? The violence? That why you conspired to have Ms. Peem’s husband killed?”
“Just charge me already, asshole,” Rage said, bored. “Or cut me loose. You know as much as I do about that Charbeshun. I don’t know a Ms. Peem and I don’t want to.”
“You sure?” Detective Labous swiped at the tablet then spun it around to show Rage an image of a woman. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t want to get to know this woman?’
Rage had to blink a few times. The woman in the image was stunning. All legs and hips and breasts and chartreuse skin and golden, flowing hair. She was posing at some gala, dressed in a skintight dress that screamed wealth. Rage stopped blinking and shrugged.
“I wouldn’t kick her out of my bed,” Rage said. “But she has lying eyes. You can see it. She may be good for a roll or two, but I wouldn’t trust her beyond sex.”
“Noticed that, did ya?” Detective Labous said.
He pulled the tablet back, studying Rage the whole time. Rage let him and waited.
“What if I said I could get you back in the life?” Detective Labous asked then held up a hand before Rage could speak. “Not back in Earth Corp’s good graces, but off the banned list. You could become a merc and make some coin as a hired gun. Not the same, but close.”
“You’re a city detective in Greenville, South Carolina,” Rage scoffed. “You don’t have that kind of pull.”
“I don’t, but the folks looking for who killed Mr. Peem do,” Detective Labous said. “Might be Nast and Zell have more to them than they look.”
“Wouldn’t be hard to do,” Rage said. ‘They look like oatmeal.”
“Earth Corp oatmeal,” Detective Labous said.
“I’ll play along. What would I need to do?” Rage asked after a couple seconds consideration.
“If Ms. Peem hasn’t contacted you yet, we feel she will soon enough,” Detective Labous explained. “No one knows why you’re involved, but you are. You let her contact you, go along with whatever she offers, and simply let her lead us to some answers.”
“That’s it? What if she offers me a ton of money to kill some cops?” Rage asked. “I should go along with that?”
“Short of the actual killing, yes,” Detective Labous said. “But we don’t think that’s what she wants. This is bigger than cop killing.”
Rage raised both eyebrows in surprise. “Bigger than cop killing? Not sure I want to get involved when you say something like that. Maybe I should forget your offer, go back to Crater Ray’s, and live my life as a bouncer. That’s probably in my best interest.”
“Despite the slimeball lawyer your employer has sent for you, you aren’t leaving this precinct a free man, Rage,” Detective Labous said. His tone suggested all gloves were off. “Got your attention?”
Rage nodded.
“You say no to my offer and you’re on the first transport off Earth,” Detective Labous continued. “Ore mining in the Kuiper belt. Gas compression on Jupiter. Water distillation on Titan. If you’re lucky enough to stay in system. Probably a few alien races that would love to get their hands on the infamous Master Chief Sergeant Major Max Rage. Maybe your transport gets lost, ends up past Pluto, and then gets intercepted by any number of possible organizations that have an axe to grind with you. Shit happens, Rage.”
“Yeah. I know shit happens,” Rage said. “I used to be the guy that caused that shit to happen.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“You didn’t really give me anything to answer. Not like I have a goddamn choice in this,” Rage spat.
“That’s the spirit,” Detective Labous said and slid the tablet back once more. “Sign these forms and we’ll get the process started on the road to Max Rage’s redemption.”
“I got some redemption you can suck on,” Rage said as he took the tablet and began signing.
“I don’t know what that means,” Detective Labous replied.
It took about an hour to sign everythi
ng then go through six polygraph tests to make sure Rage wouldn’t simply leave the precinct and ditch the deal. Despite Detective Labous’ threats, Rage was still Rage and no one was taking chances.
“Mr. Rage!” a blob of orange with a bow tie and briefcase free floating around inside its gelatinous body cried as Rage was escorted to the waiting area of the precinct. “It is about time they let you loose! I plan on having words with the local magistrate!”
“You do that, buddy,” Rage said, walking past the blob and out the front door.
The sun was brutally bright and Rage pressed a finger to his right temple. His corneas instantly darkened and the glare became bearable. Rage walked down the precinct steps and over to the closest transpo stop.
“Mr. Rage!” the blob called as it flubbered after him. “Mr. Rage, we need to talk! The charges against you are quite—”
Rage spun about and poked a finger into what may have been the being’s chest. “Charges were dropped.”
“Dropped? Were they?” the blob asked then reached inside itself with rubbery hands and pulled out its briefcase. It flicked the latches, opened the case, then studied the holographic interface that projected up from inside. “Oh…I see. Well then. You won’t be needing my services anymore. Shall I bill you or Mascholine for my time?”
“You can bill your own ass for all I care,” Rage said and turned away as a hover bus arrived, slowly lowering to the ground with a hiss and buzz. “But thanks for nothing.”
Before the blob of a lawyer could respond, Rage was on the bus and frowning at the various other riders. All had seen better lives. Or not. Rage didn’t care. He took a seat as far away from the others as possible then closed his eyes.
“Wake me at my stop,” Rage yelled up to the driver, a multi-limbed spider-like alien. “Crater Ray’s.”
“Hey, pal, I ain’t your mommy,” the driver yelled back. “Wake your own damn self!”
Someone close to the driver leaned forward and whispered in one of its earholes. The driver stiffened and glanced back at Rage in the rearview mirror.