by Jake Bible
“Original names,” Angie said.
“When you meet one of them you quickly realize they only need the one initial. Trust me.”
The roller slowed and stopped directly in front of the Club. A bored-looking Urvein that was over ten feet tall and nearly as wide, pushed away from the wall next to the front door and lumbered over to the vehicle.
“Move it along, you little… Oh. Kalaka. Great,” the Urvein growled. “What do you want? I didn’t think you ever rose before dark, you vampire piece of shit.”
“Vampire? Is that a racial slur against my sharp teeth, T?” Kalaka asked as he stepped out of the roller. “Come on. No need to get personal.”
“My teeth are bigger and sharper,” T, the Urvein, said and made sure Kalaka could see the extremely large canines. “What do you want?”
“First, for you to move your hairy ass out of the way so my colleague can get out of the roller,” Kalaka said.
T glared then glanced down at the passenger door he was blocking. Angie glared back. T backed a few steps away, just enough for Angie to get out.
“I see pistols on you,” T said. “If, and I mean if, I let you inside, you’re gonna have to hand those over. Mr. Gants is very concerned for his security lately.”
“He’s received the message then?” Kalaka asked. “Two dead GVDs.”
“Don’t know nothing about messages or dead GVDs, but if you two want to end up like your friends, then please keep those pistols and try to get past me,” T growled. “Please.”
“Just let us in,” Angie snapped, showing her GVD holo badge. “I’m not asking.”
“That’s a badge, not a warrant,” T replied, crossing his massive arms over his chest as he took two steps forward, nearly pinning Angie to the roller. “Show me a warrant and the Club is all yours.” Angie didn’t respond. “That’s what I thought. Kalaka? You didn’t tell her who my family is?”
“No, I told her, but she has to learn for herself,” Kalaka said. “How much will it cost?”
“Your pistols,” T replied.
“No, how much will it cost to keep our pistols?”
“Zero. Because you can’t keep your pistols if you want to go inside. Listen, Kalaka, I know my brother can be bought with Orb tix, but I’m not my brother. And the atmosphere has changed. Club is closed tonight and tomorrow. I’ll let you in because you’re GVD and who am I to get in the way of cops. And I’m not too worried about you getting far.”
“Why’s that?” Kalaka asked.
“You’ll see,” T replied with a canine-toothed grin. “But you won’t be going in without handing me your pistols. End. Of. Story.”
“This is what the Brothers are about?” Angie asked, looking over her shoulder at Kalaka.
“Yep. They’re all like this,” Kalaka said.
Angie nodded. Then she drove her fist into a spot just above T’s belly and below his sternum. He grunted, looked down at her fist that was buried in a roll of hair, fat and muscle, and laughed. Then he began to cough. He coughed harder and put out a hand to steady himself against the roller. Angie ducked under that arm and moved around behind the Urvein.
“Coming, Kalaka?” she asked as T continued coughing.
“Effective,” Kalaka said as he rounded the roller and hurried over to her. “But now you’ve pissed off the Brothers.”
“The Brothers pissed me off first,” Angie said and pulled her pistol. She jammed it into T’s back. “Slow, steady breaths. There you go. Now, once you feel like you can walk, you’re going to waddle your ass over to the door and key us inside. Got it?”
“Bitch,” T grunted as he slowly straightened and even slower turned around.
Angie shadowed him, making sure she was right behind with the pistol jammed directly above T’s left kidney. Kalaka got out of the way as the Urvein shuffled to the front door and keyed them in. The door slid aside and T glared as Kalaka walked into the shadowed Club.
“I’m going to remove the pistol from your back,” Angie stated. “And you are going to stay still until I am inside. What you do after that, I don’t care. But you try to take me out and you will regret it.”
“Bitch,” T spat as Angie extracted herself from the situation and followed Kalaka inside.
“Boo hoo,” Angie called back as the door closed.
Kalaka walked her down the short corridor to the main room.
“Well…shit,” Kalaka said.
The dance floor was filled with tables. On those tables were weapons of every style and caliber. Holding those weapons, cleaning those weapons, loading those weapons, were a few dozen genetic soup thugs. They turned as one and glared at Kalaka and Angie.
“No,” Schigg said casually from the bar as the thugs twitched. “Do not shoot them.”
“Is that what they were going to do?” Angie asked.
“Yes,” Schigg said and focused his ember eyes on her. “Hello, Galactic Vice Division Operations Manager Lt. Angie McDade. If that is still your job.” Schigg tapped at his temple. “A lot of chatter on official channels about a GV op manager going rogue.”
“Nothing about me?” Kalaka asked.
“No one cares about you, Kalaka,” Schigg said. “It is Lt. McDade that has them concerned.”
“How concerned?” Angie asked.
“You seem to have me confused with a being that is inclined to assist you,” Schigg said and laughed. “I stopped Mr. Gants’ employees from killing you, and allowed T to let you in, there was no need to assault him. All because I am curious as to why you would dare show your face here again, Kalaka. And bring her with you.”
“This mess is all a play to take Mr. Gants down,” Angie said before Kalaka could reply.
“Yes, we are very aware of that,” Schigg said, nodding at the tables. “Better give me something else to chew on or I let them off leash.”
“We’re following a trail,” Angie said. “The trail led to the Lipian whore’s apartment where GVD Etch Knowles was murdered.”
“Yet you are here.”
“Because the trail split and led us here too,” Angie continued. “Someone was logged into the GV mainframe from the Lipian’s apartment then from this establishment.” Angie pointed at the thugs and their weapons. “But you already knew that.”
“I have been conducting my own investigation,” Schigg said. “We brought in some outside help, thinking that your Etch Knowles might have been the threat. That is not the case, so now the outside help will be assisting us in our soon-to-be very bloody war with the Willz Syndicate.”
“Outside help?” Kalaka asked.
“Hello, Kalaka,” a voice called from a booth against the wall.
“Oh. Right. You,” Kalaka said.
Cassa Wickens extracted herself from the shadows and walked over to Kalaka and Angie.
“Angie McDade. You ordered the raid on Ballyway. I am not pleased with you,” Cassa hissed.
“Don’t care, Wickens,” Angie said.
“You should,” Cassa snarled.
“Listen, everyone chill,” Kalaka said. “We aren’t here to bust Mr. Gants or any of you. We need to access your tech logs and see where the login occurred.”
“You’re insane,” Schigg said and reached behind him for a bottle. “Would you two care for a drink before I allow Ms. Wickens to butcher you?”
“Give us access to the tech logs and I will drop the investigation into Mr. Gants’ sex trafficking,” Angie said. “Indefinitely.”
“Indefinitely? Are you offering us a free pass, Lt. McDade?” Schigg asked. “That sounds too good to be true.”
“It is,” Cassa said. “She doesn’t have the authority to make that deal.”
“I do,” Angie said. “All past offenses are now forgotten. If you stop with the kidnapping and importation of sex workers onto Jafla, then I will make sure past crimes are no longer investigated. You get a free pass on those, but not any future offenses.”
“If I knew what you were talking about, I might take you up
on the deal,” Schigg said. “But how can I make that deal for Mr. Gants when he has never done anything illegal in his life?”
“Take the deal or don’t,” Angie said. “Up to you.”
“Yes, it is up to me,” Schigg agreed.
“It’s terpigshit,” Cassa snapped. “Let me kill them.”
“No,” Schigg said. “They live. The deal is made and will be honored. Break the deal, Lt. McDade, and Ms. Wickens gets to do whatever she feels like doing to both of you. I will pay her upfront right now so that she is automatically authorized to move on you if she hears a whisper in the wind that you broke the deal. Can you live with that?”
“Story of my life,” Kalaka said.
“Deal,” Angie said. “Now, where are the tech logs?”
“Back here,” Schigg said, pointing to a door to the side of the bar. “In our VIP entertainment area. Ms. Fleena will assist you. I have more important tasks at hand.”
“Want me to accompany them?” Cassa asked.
“No, you have just as important tasks as well,” Schigg said tersely. “Go on back, you two. Get your info then leave. Never come back. Ever. The Club is off limits.”
“Then that means—” Kalaka began.
“You still owe me the favors, Kalaka. Nice try.”
32.
“I know how much street capital you’ve spent, Kalaka,” Angie said as they walked down a dim corridor towards the sound of soft music and even softer voices. “I’ll help pay those debts, if I can.”
“Appreciated,” Kalaka replied.
The corridor led them to a medium-sized sitting room, all plush couches and burgundy velvet wallpaper. Several prostitutes sat on the couches. A few waved at Kalaka. He waved back.
“Someone watched too many vids about old-time brothels,” Angie said. “Look at this place.”
“Keep your comments to yourself,” a heavily made-up Cervile said as she turned from a small wet bar to face Angie and Kalaka. “Ah. GVD Kalaka. Welcome back.”
“Ms. Fleena. Looking lovely,” Kalaka said.
“Don’t even try with me, Kalaka,” Ms. Fleena said. “I’m Cervile, too. I can smell the lies before you say them.”
Kalaka shrugged.
“Schigg call back and tell you what we’re after?” Angie asked.
“He did,” Ms. Fleena replied. “This way.”
She held a cocktail and sipped from it as she walked them to an almost hidden door in the wall. She pressed a hand to the wall and it beeped then opened.
“Step into my office,” she said and gestured for them to enter.
Kalaka nodded to Angie and the two stepped into the office. Ms. Fleena followed and closed the door behind her. The office was plain and utilitarian. No burgundy velvet wallpaper, only a few coats of gray paint. Ms. Fleena pointed with her cocktail glass at a desk and vid interface.
“Knock yourselves out,” Ms. Fleena said. “But I have to warn you that I charge by the hour, so you’ll want to be efficient.”
Kalaka laughed as Angie’s jaw dropped.
“Nothing is free, honey,” Ms. Fleena said and left.
“Jafla Base,” Angie said and shook her head.
“Tell me about it,” Kalaka said and crossed to the vid interface. He placed his wrist against a sensor and waited for the beep. When it sounded, he stepped back and crossed his arms. “Poq sent me this protocol. It should narrow down the suspects.”
They waited as a holo appeared above the interface and began spinning, indicating the protocol was running.
“He say how long it would take?” Angie asked.
“No,” Kalaka said.
“Great,” Angie said right before the interface beeped again and a row of faces framed by official Galactic Fleet IDs appeared. The holos blinked a few times then solidified. “Here we go. Thanks, Poq.”
Angie stepped closer and studied the faces. After a few seconds, she shook her head and looked back at Kalaka.
“Yeah, I see her,” Kalaka said. “Guska. Knowles’ contact. Renter of the apartment he died in. Now an employee here at the Club.” Kalaka tapped at his comm. “Ms. Fleena? May we see you?”
Ms. Fleena appeared through the door almost immediately.
“Find what you need?” Ms. Fleena asked.
“Her,” Kalaka said, swiping away all the IDs except for Guska’s. “She’s always been an independent contractor. But she works here now, right?”
“Obviously,” Ms. Fleena said. “Twitchy Lipian, I have to say. I thought she was strung out on bad stim, but turns out she’s only stupid and scared.”
“Scared of what?” Angie asked.
“Doesn’t take much with someone like her,” Ms. Fleena said. “Playing so many angles she forgets what the shape of life is. Could be anything.”
“Anyone ever come to visit her specifically since she started here?” Angie asked. “Someone that maybe hadn’t been to the Club before.”
“Not that I can think of,” Ms. Fleena said.
“Now, Ms. Fleena, you wouldn’t be holding out on us, would you?” Kalaka asked as he pulled chits from his pocket. “Schigg wants you to cooperate with us, right?”
Kalaka handed her the chits.
“Right,” Ms. Fleena said as she pocketed the chits. “But I was telling the truth. No one has come around since Guska began working here that hadn’t been here before.”
“Anyone that started coming around more often? Maybe switched from one of the other girls to Guska?” Angie asked.
Ms. Fleena grinned.
“All the Hells,” Kalaka said and gave her more chits. “I’m gonna run out soon.”
“You lost two hundred thousand of the GV’s operational funds, Kalaka,” Angie said. “Stop whining.”
“There has been one gentleman that switched from his regular girl to Guska,” Ms. Fleena said. “But there aren’t enough chits on Jafla to get me to spill his name.”
“Eight Million Gods dammit, Fleena,” Kalaka snapped. “We aren’t fucking around here.”
“Neither am I, Kalaka,” Ms. Fleena said. “At the end of the day, you get to go home and be all warm and toasty with that GV badge of yours. Me? I live this life and I want to keep on living it. I’ve done what Schigg asked me to do, but that’s all. I will not snitch on clients. Ever. Mr. Gants would have me in an acid barrel by the end of the night if he heard I squealed on a client.”
“Then what did I pay you for?” Kalaka shouted.
“For me to escort you to Guska’s room so you can ask her your questions directly,” Ms. Fleena said. “If she wants to squeal, then that is her choice. Will that work for you, Detective?”
“That will work,” Angie said for Kalaka. “Can we get that escort to her room now? Time is not on our side.”
“Neither are manners, apparently,” Ms. Fleena said and sighed. “Follow me.”
She showed them back out to the waiting room and past the bored-looking whores. Ms. Fleena led them down a corridor, around a corner, down a second corridor, around another corner, and down a third corridor.
“No doors,” Angie said.
“They’re there,” was all Ms. Fleena said. She proved it by placing a hand against the wall. A door was revealed and it slid wide open. “See?” She cleared her throat. “Guska? You have company.”
“Thanks,” Angie said as she stepped into the room, her pistol drawn. “Where is she?”
“Excuse me?” Ms. Fleena pushed past Angie and stared at the empty room. A bed. A dressing table. No Guska. “That little bitch. No one walks out on Ms. Fleena. No one.”
“Shit,” Angie exclaimed and hurried from the room.
“Gonna want those chits back, Fleena!” Kalaka yelled as he took off after Angie. “You didn’t deliver!”
Ms. Fleena’s response was lost as they turned the corner and continued sprinting down the corridor, turned the last corner, and raced past the not-so-bored-looking whores. They were up on their feet, hands to mouths, to cheeks, to their ears, all looking terri
fied.
The sound of plasma blasts was easy to hear from down the entry corridor.
Kalaka drew his pistol as the sounds got louder. Angie slammed a fist against the door controls and waited for it to slide open. There were shouts and yells and nothing but chaos in the Club as Angie and Kalaka burst out into the bar and nearly tripped over a prone Schigg.
“You owe me,” Schigg said, face down and unmoving. “That whore shot me. She was your problem. Now I am your problem, Kalaka.”
“Say all that to my face when you can stand up again, asshole,” Kalaka said as he and Angie stepped over Schigg’s body.
Several of the thugs were dead on the dance floor, the tables of weapons overturned. Angie snatched up a heavily modified H16 carbine as she ran across the dance floor and headed towards the Club entrance. Kalaka did the same.
More dead thugs at the entrance. The door was open, blocked from closing by the foot of one of the dead thugs. Outside on the street were the sounds of plasma blasts and the distinct roaring noise of a wounded Urvein.
Angie moved to one side of the entrance and Kalaka took the other. Angie raised a hand and counted down one, two, three then dove out of the entrance. She rolled across the sidewalk and came up in a crouch with her back to Kalaka’s roller.
Kalaka made to copy the maneuver, but a couple of plasma blasts scorching the wall by his face changed his mind. He dropped to the ground and elbow crawled to Angie.
“You see her?” Angie asked.
“No,” Kalaka said. “But from the angle of the shots, I’d say she’s across the street.”
Angie glanced around and then saw T’s massive foot sticking out from in front of the roller. “T? You alive?”
There was a pained groan then, “Yes. She shot me as she came out the door. What in the Hells did I ever do to that whore? I’ve been nice to her.”
“Can you see her?” Angie asked.
“She’s across the street, hiding behind an incinerator bin,” T said. “I think… Yeah, I think she’s waiting for a public roller to show up. The bin’s by a transport stop.”
“This whore is dumb as paint,” Angie said.