by Selina Rosen
"RJ."
His eyes lit up with recognition, and he stared at her as if expecting the spectacular at any moment.
"So, what have you found out?" she asked as she sat down on the bed.
"About island, not much. Fishermen swear is haunted. Say see ghosts and hear strange sounds. I watch. Many times see lights." If he'd had a tail, he would have wagged it.
She looked thoughtful for a moment. "If there are lights, then someone is over there."
"What I thought," he said.
"What about recruits? Would any of these assholes fight? Would they join us?"
"Most think fighting Reliance useless."
"At least we know they're not stupid," RJ said with a grin.
"Not cowards, either. If prove can win, might be inclined to join." It sounded like he was telling her so little, and he had worked so hard to find all this out. He hoped it would be enough to get him accepted. He had no way of knowing that RJ would have recruited a dog if she thought he was loyal.
"Stand up and look in that box you're sitting on," RJ said. He did so, and his eyes grew wide with delight and awe. He was a thief, and such a theft as this obviously impressed the hell out of him.
"They're the Reliance's newest hand-held weapon. I want you to take one."
Mickey was excited. He knew that the offering of the weapon meant he had been accepted, but . . .
"Remember what happen last time?" Personally, he hadn't been happy with the results. He rubbed his behind and grimaced.
RJ smiled at the memory of the midget with his butt jammed in a bucket.
"This is a laser, not a blaster. It has no kick. That's why it's the new, improved weapon. Take one, you'll need it."
He picked it up reluctantly, but once it was in his hands, he smiled.
"Keep it hidden."
He nodded.
"Needless to say, I'm not supposed to have them." She showed him how it worked. "Come on, let's go have a look at those lights."
Mickey held on for dear life as RJ drove the motorcycle down the stairs.
The fat man met them in the entrance hall. "Hey, how many times do I have to tell you? No riding motorcycles in the building. It's in your lease . . ." He kept screaming as she roared out of the building.
RJ's driving didn't scare Mickey. He felt as if nothing could happen to him as long as he was with her. It was a feeling of security the likes of which he had never before experienced.
RJ parked the bike beside the rickety pier. She got off and, much to Mickey's amazement, picked him up and put him on her shoulders. She walked onto the pier. The boards creaked under her feet. She stopped. Sure as hell, there were lights on the island. She clicked her tongue.
"I wonder who's out there, and, more to the point, why?"
"All the time watch. No boats come. No boats go. No helicopters," Mickey informed her.
RJ nodded and looked thoughtful. "Could it be some Reliance thing?"
"Don't know."
She looked at the lights again. It was no trick of the water and the city lights. It wasn't a reflection. There were lights on out there.
"It's certainly curious."
"Want me keep watching?" Mickey asked eagerly.
"Yes, but quit asking questions. It wouldn't do for people to know that we're interested." RJ turned and started down the boardwalk.
"You hungry?" she asked.
"Always." Mickey liked the view from RJ's shoulder. For once, he was looking down on people instead of up. Life could be a real drag when all you ever saw was people's asses.
They went into the first restaurant they came to. Both RJ and Mickey ducked as they came through the door. RJ took Mickey from her shoulder, and they found a table.
"What ya want?" the waitress asked shortly.
RJ looked up at her and smiled a satanic smile. The waitress cringed. "A little respect, for one thing," RJ said through gritted teeth.
"Sorry, ma'am," the waitress said quickly. "It's been a long day. What can I do for you?" It had been a long day, and the last thing she needed was to get her ass kicked. This had to be her. This had to be the woman who had kicked Whitey Baldor's ass in the Golden Arches.
RJ ordered and the waitress placed the order promptly. She brought the beers at once. "Your order will be ready shortly."
"Thank you," RJ said with equal politeness.
Mickey lit a cigar.
RJ shook her head. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that smoking will stunt your growth?"
Mickey smiled and stuck the cigar in RJ's outstretched hand.
She took a long drag and handed it back.
"Hear you and Whitey Baldor are having a thing," Mickey said conversationally.
"Don't believe everything you hear," RJ said with a smile.
"Whitey Baldor's a nasty piece of work," Mickey told her.
"So am I," RJ took another drink of her beer. "He hates the Reliance. That's the only credential you need to join my army. I don't give a damn about his manners."
"So, are you and Whitey having a thing?" Mickey asked with a mischievous smile.
RJ shook her head and smiled. "Mickey, it would shock you to know just how virtuous I am."
David experienced no trouble at all picking up a woman, getting her to take him back to her place, or having his way with her. He certainly felt a hell of a lot calmer than he had in weeks. He'd needed a woman's attentions, and this one had been good. But it was late, and he wanted to go home now. He sat on the edge of the bed, getting dressed.
"Do you have to go, lover?" the woman asked, as she rubbed against him in a provocative manner.
"I'm afraid so," David stood up and finished pulling up his pants and zipped them. "It's been nice."
"Can I see you again?" she asked.
David looked at her. She was a dark-haired beauty. He smiled and nodded.
"Yeah, sure . . . sometime." He pulled on his boots, blew her a kiss, and was gone.
When he returned to the apartment, it was obvious that RJ had been busy. It was even more obvious that she wasn't home. No doubt she had gone off somewhere with that giant person. He went into the bathroom, stripped and started the shower. He heard the front door open.
"RJ?"
"Ax murderer," RJ answered.
"Where's the bike?" he asked.
"I decided to make lard-ass happy and leave it in the lobby," RJ started to take the chain off.
"The apartment looks nice," David told her.
"Thanks," she finished taking off the chain and let it fall to the floor. She sat down on the bed.
David really had no idea what possessed him at that moment, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"Where were you?"
He heard the curses as he turned off the water. Damn it, he couldn't help it. He'd never really got to be a big brother to his own sister. Now, he wanted to protect RJ, but damn her, she didn't want or really need protecting.
He was just stepping out of the shower when RJ stormed in, obviously ready to let him have it. He cringed in anticipation. He knew from past experience that RJ wasn't likely to pull any punches. She'd call him every choice word that came into her head.
RJ was prepared to let him have it. Hypocrite came to mind; so did slut and miserable-mother-fucking-pencil-dicked-moron. She took one look at him standing there buck-naked, and didn't say a word. It didn't make any sense. How many men had she seen nude? A hundred, two hundred, a thousand? She'd never felt like this before. Her heart was pounding, her breath seemed to come in gasps, and her palms were sweating. Must be some new reaction to the Pronuses. She should have called him a stream of profanities that would make a whore blush, but the words wouldn't come.
Finally she said, "Everyone in Alsterase is getting fucked except me. If you don't believe that, I don't give a shit." She left him in the bathroom alone, but didn't quit looking at him. She wondered if he'd had a woman, then knew, instinctively, that he had.
"Fucking whore," she mumbled.
"What's that?" David was brushing his teeth, and hadn't heard what she'd said.
"Nothing," she took off her pants, and hurled them against the wall. It was irrational, but she felt better. When he came out of the bathroom, she went in. The shower didn't make her feel any better.
She could see David lying in bed, smiling stupidly at the ceiling. He was nice and content. She wasn't. She turned out the lights and got in bed beside David.
"RJ, I'm sorry that I made such a scene. If you want to sleep with that fellow, that is your business, and I had no right to . . ."
"Jump to conclusions. I told you I didn't sleep with him. You and I aren't lovers. Why should I lie to you about it, and why should you care what I do?" She rolled over so that her back was to him.
David put a friendly hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, RJ. I guess I got a little overzealous in my role as big brother. You forgive me?"
She made a noise that might or might not have meant yes.
David was in too good a mood to assume that it was anything but agreement. He lay back to get comfortable. "RJ, what were your parents like?"
"I was raised Elite," RJ said quickly.
"Huh?"
"I was an orphan, or a bastard, or something. I stood out from the other kids. So, instead of being sent off to the work camps, or farmed out to some other family, I was raised Elite. If you're raised Elite, you go right into service. You never really know anything else, and you can bet on going in as an officer."
"Do you ever wonder about them?" David asked.
"Who?"
"Your parents."
"No." There was a final note in RJ's voice.
For once, David let it lie.
Chapter Seven
The next week RJ stayed more or less at home. She wanted to give the side effects of two doses of Pronuses so close together a chance to subside. Mickey took up residence with them, feeling very privileged to have a moth-eaten twin-sized mattress on the floor.
David found a way to occupy his time. He took to going out on a nightly quest, the object of which was to bed everything with hips and tits in the entire city. So far, things were right on schedule. He had everything it took to impress the local women; he was tall, good-looking, breathing, and had a dick. The girls of Alsterase were neither too particular nor particularly moral. Anyone, anytime, and anyplace. If they were attached you might have to give them a second to get rid of their current mates.
David was out, bent on yet another conquest, so RJ decided to go out as well. Whitey and Mickey were only too glad to tag along.
They sat at the corner table after persuading a young man and his girlfriend that they didn't want to sit there. The place wasn't packed with atmosphere nor was it particularly clean, but both Whitey and Mickey assured RJ that the food was the best in Alsterase. The three of them were a sight to see, so it was no wonder that they were looked at with a certain amount of interest. This lot stood out even in Alsterase, which was quite an accomplishment.
After eating, they relaxed over their first round of drinks. RJ went so far as to plop her feet in the middle of the table. Whitey draped a huge arm over her shoulders.
"I really don't see why you put up with it," Whitey said, playing with a lock of her hair.
"What? You slobber all over her?" Mickey asked lightly. Whitey gave him an angry look, and he shrugged.
Whitey returned his attention to RJ and repeated. "I don't know why you put up with it."
"OK, Whitey," RJ said in an exasperated tone. No doubt he was going to hit on her. After all, it had been almost twenty minutes since his last attempt. "What?"
"David's gallivanting all over town, poking anything that will stand still long enough," Whitey said.
RJ shrugged. "I don't care what David does," she said with a flip of her head. Both Whitey and Mickey laughed at the lack of conviction in her voice. "I've told you both before, and I'm telling you again. David and I are not now, nor have we ever been, lovers. I really don't care what he does."
"All right, RJ. Then, if everything between you and David is so . . ." Whitey paused in thought, "what's that word?"
"Boobs!" Mickey said.
Whitey gave him a confused look.
"Look at boobs on waitress." He pointed.
RJ hit his hand.
"Oh!" Mickey protested, and rubbed his hand.
"RJ, if everything between you and David is so . . . ARG, what is that damned word?" Whitey hissed.
RJ had no idea what compelled her to fill in the blank for him. She knew damn good and well what he was up to. "Platonic," she said, helpfully.
"Exactly. If you and David are so platonic, why can't you and I . . ." he whispered something particularly wicked in her ear.
"No." RJ said quickly.
"You're a cold bitch, RJ," Whitey whined in mock despair.
David staggered home. The woman had been a disappointment. Her looks had promised so much, and she'd had so little. It wasn't fair. It really wasn't. Sometimes it seemed to him that the more beautiful a woman was, the lousier she was in bed.
He'd had far too much to drink. That, he admitted, hadn't helped. The combination of bad sex and too much liquor had given him the granddaddy of all headaches. All this fun was wearing him down. He wished RJ were home, but she wasn't.
"Off with the boys again, you bitch." He laughed at his own joke, then held his head. RJ's jacket was lying on the bed. It was a stroke of luck, because she usually wore it. He'd seen RJ take pills out of her pocket. No doubt they were pain pills. He rummaged through her pockets till he found the leather pouch, pulled it out and opened it. He saw the pills. Smiling with the anticipation of relief, he walked into the bathroom and filled a glass with water.
RJ had been about to suggest that they leave when the stranger walked in. "You ever see him before?" she asked her companions.
They both said no.
"He doesn't look like trouble to me," Whitey didn't understand her curiosity. He wondered whether he should be jealous or not.
"He also doesn't look like your typical Alsterase riffraff."
He was a tall, thin, good-looking man. No growth of beard, his clothes were well cared for, and he was clean. Militarily clean.
"You think he's a spy?" Mickey asked.
"If he is, he's being awfully blatant about it," RJ said.
"Whitey and I will create a diversion. You pick his pocket."
Mickey nodded eagerly.
"Why, you two-timing slug!" RJ screamed, standing up and slinging the rest of her beer in Whitey's face. Whitey didn't have to act shocked. He jumped up, slinging the beer off himself. As every eye in the place turned on them, Mickey slipped away.
"You platinum blonde bitch," Whitey screamed back. "I ought to knock the crap out of you."
"Do it and die, fuckface," RJ said, poking him in the chest.
"Oh, I love it when you talk dirty to me," Whitey said with a broad leer.
RJ fought her smile. "Fuck you, Whitey Baldor!" she screamed.
"I wish you would," he grabbed her and kissed her full on the mouth.
When he let her go, she whispered, "What the hell are you doing?"
"Creating a diversion," he grinned. He bent and kissed her throat.
She gave up and laughed. She kissed Whitey on the cheek, and they both sat down. Mickey crawled out from under the table, as if he had been hiding there till the fight was over.
"Get it?" RJ asked him.
He looked hurt.
"Would I not?" He took the billfold from a pocket, and handed it to her under the table. She opened it and began to examine the contents.
"Well?" Mickey asked eagerly. Whitey, on the other hand, was totally occupied with chewing on RJ's earlobe.
"Three hundred units, a picture of a naked woman . . ."
"Let me see," Mickey moved so that he could look over her shoulder. Apparently he wasn't impressed, because he sat down again.
"Ahha!" RJ said in a pleased-with-herself tone.
"Ahha, what?" Whitey came up for air long enough to ask. Without waiting for an answer, he moved to her neck.
"Discharge papers, dishonorable discharge papers. Our stranger used to be an Elite Captain. It gets better. He was a pilot—starship class," RJ said. She looked thoughtfully back at the man. "He could be useful to us." She was trying to decide whether she should approach him or not when three of the local bully-boys decided to hassle him. "Shit!" RJ said.