by Nathan Lowel
“I have a couple of them,” she purred mockingly. “Play your cards right, spacer, and you might see another one.”
We all laughed and headed out for the lift, Brill leading the way. I laughed out loud when she briefly lifted the back of her jacket and I saw the blue butterfly tattooed at the base of her spine, just above the waistband of her pants. Yes, it was gonna be one of those nights.
Orbitals are arranged like a layer cake with the dock levels near the middle. Everything above the dock is generally designated office, retail, restaurant, and residential. Everything below the dock is industrial. That’s where all the cargo canisters are processed and stored, among other things. Docks were the designated main deck and everything above that was numbered in increasing order while everything below was prefixed with a zero and numbered in increasing order. So level five was the fifth level above the docks, and level oh-two was the second level below the docks. We had the same set up on the Lois with the main deck being the spine level and the main lock, the gym was technically the oh-one deck and berthing was the first deck.
The place we were heading to was in the commercial zone, below the docks on the oh-two deck. A lot of the rowdier spots were below the docks to put a buffer between the residential quiet zones and the louder entertainments available. Put another way, everything above the docks was nice and everything below the docks was not nice. Tonight, we were going to not nice and this was terra incognita to me.
The lift doors opened and we could hear competing music coming from a variety of places in both directions up and down the corridor. There was a lot of heavy bass, most of it syncopated. The air felt as moist and heavy as it did in environmental, and the crush of people after so long aboard nearly overwhelmed me. I did not know where to look first but I followed Bev out of the lift like I knew what I was doing. Diane fell in step beside me and I could feel the heat of Brill’s body behind me as she strode along as rear guard. The natural bubble that opened for Beverly expanded around Diane and me and did not close immediately behind Brill so we moved quickly. Bev obviously knew where we were going and she arrowed right for it. We carved through the crowds and into a gaping hole in the bulkhead that did not appear to have any doors at all. Above the hole a laser sign painted the word: Jump! on the bulkhead.
Just inside the door, Bev paused and leaned back for a short confab. “We’re meeting them here, right?”
Brill nodded. “Usual spot or as near to it as we can get.”
“Who are we meeting?” I asked Diane.
“Some people we know from other ships. A few from the Duchamp, and maybe some of Brill’s old shipmates from the Soyokaze. Beyond that, we’ll see what happens.”
Bev led the way and before long we had found a group of people who had chairs saved for us and pitchers of beer already on the table. Introductions went by in such a blur that none of them stuck. Several guys in leather, a couple of women in tailored suits, and at least one woman who made Beverly look like a girl scout. Her head was shaved and tattooed, the pierced breasts were bare under a spiked leather vest, and the muscle-builder bulk tipped the scales in her direction. Ironically, she had the most welcoming smile. I guess when you are built like that, you can afford to be friendly. Her name was Al. She was the astrogator from the Hedley and had the most amazing repertoire of dirty jokes.
Somewhere around then, a waitress in a cut down shipsuit showed up to take our orders. I took a simple gin and tonic. Not the typical drink for an eighteen-year-old, I suppose, but Mom always had a bottle of gin around and we would occasionally have one after she got home from school. “I hate to drink alone,” she said one time and that was that. I was only seventeen, but after my sixteenth birthday party, I never was tempted to overdo it again. The occasional gin and tonic did not seem to hurt me any.
The drink cost ten creds and when the server came back with it I did not start a tab. I knew better. It was, however, a strong drink and I knew I would need to keep an eye on it as the night wore on. The last thing I needed was a reputation as an easy drunk on my first night out. I settled in the empty chair next to Al and Brill grinned at me as she sat across the table. Bev was already circulating but kept an eye on us. Diane had a drink already as well, and she was chatting up a lanky guy in leathers. The snippets of conversation I could hear made me think she knew him already.
I turned to Al. “So? What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” I asked in a loud voice.
Brill almost spewed beer onto the floor and Al roared. The commotion attracted attention but I just sipped my drink and waited. Al turned to Brill. “He’s one of yours then, ain’t he?”
Brill grinned and gave a little shrug. “He works in my department, but don’t blame me for him. We found him that way.”
After that, we settled in for the evening. I kept one eye on my drink and the other open for the plumber. After a stan or so of easy drinking and sporadic dancing, the combined crews relaxed into an easy camaraderie. Al was a dear and we got on famously, all the implanted surgical steel notwithstanding. Several of the women in the group circulated around and occasionally sat down on the other side of me to strike up a conversation. Everyone seemed nice enough but there was not a lot of electricity in the air. The night had not yet gained escape velocity and nobody seemed too anxious to push the throttle. I got the feeling that something was coming, but it had not arrived yet.
Eventually, the crew from the Duchamp showed up—about eight of them. I paid attention because I knew that this was the crew that locked Pip in the scrubber for three stans as a joke and then hounded him off the ship. On the other hand, they were also the crew that found him a berth on the Lois rather than just stranding him ashore. I wondered if any of the people joining our party were involved in either incident.
Introductions raced around, and again almost everybody knew just about everybody else. I was the new meat and knew it. Two names stuck out when they floated across the table. Alicia Alvarez was the first and Steph Murdock was the second. The plumber had arrived.
Even if I had not heard the snippet of conversation earlier, Bev and Diane both bristled when Murdock joined the group. Steph Murdock was a hunter, one of those who were in it for the sport and not for the meat. She just wanted the kill. Brill looked like she had a bad taste in her mouth when she introduced us, and I was not sure why she was doing it. At that point, I had a pretty good idea of whose plumbing was the subject of concern—bless her heart.
Alicia Alvarez, on the other hand, was a real killer—petite, dark, vivacious with flashing eyes and olive skin much darker than even Bev’s or Tabitha’s. If I was gonna get killed, I knew who I wanted to do the deed as soon as I saw her, and even before I had met the plumber. She was the one who had told Pip that he needed to enjoy the ride. My breath caught in my throat as I thought of several delightful ways that might be interpreted.
Murdock wore a pair of slacks so tight they puckered and a top so loose she might as well not bothered. She plunked herself into the chair beside me and leaned in close. “So, you’re the new guy,” she said with a throaty growl. She leaned into me a bit, mashing a nicely padded breast into my upper arm, and I suddenly realized why they called this place Jump! There did not appear to be any speed limits. Brill was looking anywhere but in my direction, but I caught Bev glaring—not at me but at Murdock.
I leaned back a little so I could get my arm in a position to shake her hand. “Hi, my name is Ish. You’re Steph Murdock? Did I hear that correctly?”
She nodded with half lowered lids. “Yeah,” she purred. “We have a lot in common, I hear.”
“Really? You have me at a disadvantage then.”
“I used to be on the Lois,” she told me. “We have that in common.”
“That’s quite a coincidence.” I allowed and could sense even Al getting a little tense. I wondered why it was that so many women felt the need to protect me. I patted her beefy thigh discreetly under the table and slipped her a wink. She seemed surprised by
the touch but I felt her relax.
“You used to be on the mess deck and now you work in environmental? Or so I hear.”
“You seem to know a lot about me,” I said. Brill caught my comment and tone. Diane was standing not two meters away with her back towards me but I could see held her head slightly turned with an ear cocked in our direction. I did my best not to laugh. Bless their hearts, all of them. Two days before and I would have been irate.
“Well, you know how it is, everybody wants to get to know the new guy,” she gushed and leaned in a little more. I had to admit that the cleavage was spectacular in a slutty, overdone, tasteless kind of way. I bet she was a very successful predator.
“Well, I suppose that’s true,” I said and sipped my drink. “So how did you come to leave the Lois and go to the Duchamp?” I thought I knew but I wanted confirmation.
“Oh, I used to work the mess deck there, just like you! I passed the half share test for engineman. I wanted to go to environmental, but the Lois didn’t have any slots. We followed the Duchamp into port one day and Mr. Maxwell, you know Mr. Maxwell, of course, he arranged with the Duchamp to trade me for a guy in the environmental department who was having problems.”
She used the fingers in the air around having problems. I felt a sudden and unfamiliar urge to punch a woman. Pip had wondered why Mr. Maxwell had been willing to accept the trade. I could see now that the Duchamp had gotten the short end of the deal, and my respect for Mr. Maxwell went up a couple of notches even though it was already very high.
“So, you’re in the environmental section on the Duchamp?” I asked. “Have you passed your spec rating yet?”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you, honey,” she cooed. “We have a lot in common. We’re both half share and both working in environmental.”
“Oh? I thought you had passed your spec.”
“Ooh,” she squealed, “somebody’s been talking about me?”
Timing is everything and I gave it just a half beat so I knew that Brill and Diane would pick it up.
“Maybe I’m mistaken,” I said. “I thought you were the plumber.”
Brill did spew beer that time and I could see Diane’s head bow and her shoulders shake with laughter.
In the ensuing confusion and cleanup, Murdock found another target that was less problematic and moved in for the kill. I hoped she did not hurt him too much, sorta.
When we all got settled, Brill raised her glass in a silent toast and I returned it with a grin and a wink.
Al leaned in then and said, “I don’t know what happened, kid, but I like your style. If you ever get a hankering for a big, bald babe, look me up.” She winked and chuckled before calling for more beer.
One down. The real action had not begun but the night shifted into high gear.
Chapter 19
DUNSANY ROADS ORBITAL
2352-APRIL-17
With the unsavory Murdock out of the picture, I was still faced with the problem of how to get to Alicia Alvarez. She was a popular woman and with good reason. She moved like a panther and was just as sleekly beautiful. The challenge was going to be cutting her out of the pack.
I leaned over to my new friend, Al, and asked, “What’s the protocol on officers?”
She leaned down so she could hear me over the rising noise. “What you mean, Ishmael? Protocol?”
I let my eyes flicker to where Alvarez was standing with a group of spacers. “Officers? Are they eligible?”
She still seemed confused until Alvarez looked in our direction. A slow grin spread across her broad face.
“You do like a challenge, don’t ya?” Al said into the top of her beer.
“I just need to know if the worst that can happen is she turns me down.”
“Everybody here is off duty. Nobody is wearing tabs and no one is saying sar. Beyond that you’re on your own, but you’ve already got high marks in my book just for considering it. You sure you don’t wanna come back to my flop with me?” she teased. “I’ll take out the sharpest pieces.” She flicked the skull pierced through her left nipple.
“You’re tempting, Al, but I’m afraid I’m not man enough for you.”
She roared again, but the noise had built to the point where almost nobody outside of our immediate group could even hear it. She leaned down. “If you’re man enough for what you’re thinking, kid, you’re more man than three quarters of the men here.” She started to drink her beer and stopped to add, “And half the women!”
She really was a hoot. I was half tempted to take her up on the offer. I learned some time back that orgasms and laughter go well together. Especially when shared.
Still, I pondered the problem of cutting Alvarez out of the herd long enough to get her attention. Just then the band started and Alvarez’s hips moved in time to the beat. None of the men she was with seemed to notice.
I drained my drink and put the glass on the table. It was only my second and it had been ginger ale. I knew my limit on gin, and I did not want to be anywhere near it. Brill caught the movement and looked at me quizzically, and I winked back. Then I stood up and leaned over to give Al a kiss on the top of her shaved dome. “Wish me luck, Al,” I said and slipped from behind the table. As I crossed over to where Alvarez was standing, one of the tall, dark men who thought he was entertaining her saw me coming. Her hips definitely rocked to the beat and I wondered if she was even aware of it. She saw what-his-name looking and turned to see what had got his attention.
I kept focused on two thoughts. The first was that the worst she could say was no. The second was that I was wearing Henri Roubaille.
She saw me coming and her head turned before she swung her body around. I smiled and looked into her eyes. I could see the oh-gods-what-does-he-want flash across her face, but I did not let it deter me. I stopped about a meter from her, held hand, and said the word, “Dance?” I know she did not hear me over the noise. I did not even hear it, but I knew she could see it on my mouth. I nodded to the floor in invitation. Tall, dark and boring tried to get her attention back with a careful hand on her elbow. I could see it in my peripheral vision, but I did not take my eyes off hers. I kidded myself into thinking I had a choice and that I might actually have chosen not to look. I was careful not to make it a demand, but more of an offer. With the offer extended, I waited for her to make up her mind. The idiot with her tried to get her attention once more, but she drained her drink without looking away. Her eyes laughed over the rim, and she handed the empty glass to whoever-he-was before taking my outstretched hand. With a smile, she turned and led me to the dance floor, her fingers still cool and wet from the glass. She started dancing before we even made it to the floor, feet shuffling and hips shaking with intent. I did the best I could to follow. I was not a bad dancer—just not a very good one.
“It’s not how well you dance, Ishmael,” Mom had said. “It’s whether or not you mean it.”
With Alvarez, I meant it—every last bit of it. Eventually the band took a break and I finally got a chance to talk to her. She spoke first, “You’re Wang, from the Lois?”
“Guilty as charged. You’re Alvarez, from the Duchamp?”
She gave a mock salute with her index finger. “Yeah, that’s me.”
I held out a hand, to shake this time. “Pleased to meet you. You dance like a mad woman!” I told her with a grin.
She took my hand and shook it firmly but did not let go. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said while looking me in the eyes again. Gods, but she had beautiful eyes. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Ginger ale would be good.” She still held my hand and her skin was scorching hot.
“Ginger ale? You came to a bar to drink ginger ale?” A smile danced in her eyes.
“No, I came to a bar to meet a fascinating woman. I drink ginger ale so I’ll remember her after.”
“Damn, you’re good,” she said with a delightful little laugh.
“Thanks, you’re a wonderful audience. I’ll be
here till Thursday. Try the fish,” I teased her.
“Let’s see if we can find that drink.”
She did not let go of my hand as she led me off the floor and back toward the bar. As she led me past the table, Al raised her glass in toast and Brill turned, staring in disbelief. Diane saw her expression and I watched her track across to me. A huge smile erupted on her face just before the crowd closed around us and I lost sight of them all.
Alvarez led me to a table around the corner from the band and the worst of the noise. People back seemed to be engaged in a variety of discussions ranging from a half dozen heatedly arguing the relative merits of various engine manifold temperatures on combustion efficiency to a quartet in black leather discussing the symbolism in Peneu Narvat’s new holo, Lost in Transition. Without the band blaring in your ears, you could actually hear yourself speak. We sat down across from each other at a small table with a bad wobble and a smear of spilled drinks on it and the waitress took our orders. She came back in a tick with the drinks and a damp rag to swab off the table. I let Alvarez pay for the drinks, and when the waitress left, I raised my glass in toast.
“Thanks,” I told her.
“You’re welcome,” she said and sipped hers. “Oh, this is good,” she said with surprise.
“You’ve never had it before?”
She gave a little embarrassed flick of her head. “Actually, no. At least not straight.”
“When I realized who you were, I wanted to say thank you.”
She sipped again. Neither of us dared put our drinks on the table because it kept wobbling so badly. “Thank me? For what?”
“You remember a greenie wiper in environmental? Carstairs?”
“About a year ago? We traded him for Murdock?”
“Yeah, I believe so.”
“I remember him. Nice kid. Got off on the wrong foot with the crew and was in a hurry to get somewhere else.”
“That’s him. You gave him some good advice, and I wanted to thank you for it.”