by Lee Bond
What he wouldn’t give, the things he’d willingly do to lay his hands on a level 9 AI. He’d drown in blood and lay on a mountain of corpses, and were it not for the fact that Tenerek almost certainly didn't have anything above a 7 on the entire goddamn planet, he'd be bathing in blood by nightfall.
“Then what is it?” Gary had to admit, seeing Darren on the ropes like this, emanating actual emotion instead of that curious blanket of nothingness … it was nice; ever since leaving the hospital, Darren had become so powerful and self-assured that it bordered on the ridiculous, leaving anyone who spoke to him for more than a few minutes wondering if the man was even human any longer.
This, though, was positively entertaining.
Jordan scratched the side of his jaw. “I cannot believe that when I began my quest I actually thought it’d be easy … easy … to track down Garth Nickels. What hubris! This is a man who strides across the Universe as easily as that blonde girl skates across the dance floor! A man who’s perfected the art of war and the application of violence! A man who’s become eponymous with change. What a fool! To think I could just tap his name into the system, in return for which I’d receive a map, with coordinates, pointing directly to him!”
Gary cleared his throat, tittered nervously, went bright red in reaction to his foolishness, then looked out into the crowd, training his eyes on the blonde girl that Darren was so obviously smitten with. It didn’t take a genius to guess where the night was going to go. “I can’t get over how easily you say his name.”
“Nonsense.” Jordan half-snapped, half-muttered. “He is no more a God than you are.”
A thirty thousand year old not-God with a head full of ideas and concepts that turned the Universe on it’s edge every time the man sat down to give birth to something. Oh, Jordan wished he could just tell Gary what he knew about Garth Nickels, reveal unto the twitchy, anxious criminal who was obsessed with global domination everything.
No. No. Doing so would jeopardize everything.
There was something … off in Darren’s phrasing. As Gary sat there, trying to unravel what that might be, he found he was reflecting more on the nature of their relationship instead. When he was on his own, running the BA and arranging for the sale or acquisition of stolen property or auctioning off whores to the right bidder and all of that, he was in charge. He was in control. The people around him hopped to his bidding with no prompt, no urging. Because they recognized their place in the world and –as anyone would- wanted to do the best they could because they, like everyone else, wanted to succeed.
But when he was in Darren’s presence? The complete opposite. He felt like he had something to prove to Darren, when in fact it should be the other way around. If it weren’t for him and his connections, why, the Black Altar wouldn’t even exist, let alone be around for one weird ex-security guard to begin the incredibly unlikely and wildly apocryphal task of hunting down the accidental progenitor of the Church of Nothing.
Gary opened his mouth to say something very similar to this, but Darren beat him to the punch by no more than half a second, almost as if he’d been waiting for that specific chance to cut him short.
“Do you remember, Gary, our first serious conversation together?” The beast inside Jordan Bishop sniggered wildly at Gary’s flushed countenance and micro-expressions full of homicidal rage. If only the con man could place the source of that rage and hatred! “Wherein we discussed a relationship full of mutual benefits?”
Gary nodded, very slowly. When you were a criminal, you either got good at being aware or you got yourself dead relatively early on in your career. It was non-negotiable.
Right here, right now, with those two innocent-seeming questions uttered in the privacy of their sound-proof booth, Garigtch Porfol knew he’d been right, that the evening –whether he wanted it or not- was going to go down a very, very dark path.
And God help him, if he wanted to not only hold onto the power he’d recently gained but to earn more, he was going to have to walk, hand in hand, down that path with the creep beside him.
“I do.” The words were cold as ice as they fell from even chillier lips.
Gary’d never been one to look too deeply into the nature of life itself, but as those words hung between him and Darren -who was in perhaps the oddest frame of mind he'd ever been in, at least here, in BA- Porfol couldn't help but feel that the act of simply admitting he remembered the conversation had dropped them both fully on the path, with no way to turn back.
Jordan inhaled deeply through his nose, using his enhanced senses to fully separate the blonde goddess' scent from all others, pleasure centers of his brain catching fire, each whiff of her sincerely hedonistic scent hammering into him like multi-colored lightning flashing down from the heavens above. Even if she somehow managed to leave in the next few minutes while he and Gary discussed a very specific elevation of their relationship, Jordan knew he'd be able to find her wherever she went.
Imagining the thrill of the hunt that might befall him sent new shivers of excited anticipation through him.
"What a night that was, Gary. What a night. Two men, sitting and discussing how they planned on shaking the firmament of the heavens, yes?" When Gary could barely find the strength to nod, Jordan continued. "And do you recall a moment as we talked where it seemed I was going to ask you something? A favor, if you will?"
Gary's mouth was dry as the deserts far to the east, his tongue a swollen lump of flesh braced by a dry ivory wall. His guts squirmed, worms borne of fear and disgust writhing in him, threatening to spill vomit and bile over the table. It wouldn't be the first time he'd thrown up in his own club, but this would definitely be the first time he'd done so for no apparent reason.
Only ... was the source of his fear really all that unknown? Gary had the source now, saw he'd intentionally been ignoring the heady stench of madness beset with other, more powerful emotions flowing like a breached dam from his … compatriot.
All out of greed. Power was it's own aphrodisiac, and when it came right down to it, Gary supposed he preferred the smell of wealth and influence over anything else, even if it was brought to him by a man mad enough to fill someone with utter dread with nothing but a few words.
"Now you need to decide, Gary." Jordan was feeling ... generous. He would offer Gary the chance to back out, if he so chose, and there'd be no hard feelings either way.
The journey wasn't one for ordinary men and women. In fact, the beast in a man's clothing now saw that when he'd first started hunting Garth Nickels -it felt like a million years ago- he'd not been up to the task. It hadn't been until his resurrection under Andros' skillful genetic wizardry that he'd been really ready to do … what needed doing.
Gary Bad Chicken hadn't been through the same kind of crucible, but he had met personally with Nickels on more than one occasion. If that useless lump of fat and receding hairline called Jerszak Sinfell could transform -almost overnight- into a garrulous, bible-thumping, pulpit-preaching leader of a religion that burned across the globe, then a third-rate criminal could certainly grab hold of an even greater destiny.
If the man decided to back down and away, well, no harm in that, Jordan supposed. As a low-level functionary within a much larger organization, Gary would find much to keep himself occupied.
"Decide what?" Gary asked for no real reason other than he felt the silence between them needed breaking. He knew goddamn well what it was that hung in the balance right now.
Knew, and had already made his decision. He just wanted to hear the subtle threat directly from the horse's mouth.
That way, when the inevitable betrayal came, he'd know from which direction. After all, hadn't the Changemaker talked about betrayal when he'd bought that more-or-less stolen ship? Very unsubtly?
Jordan damn near stood up and applauded Gary's sudden bout of cagey wiliness. Maybe the man wasn't useless after all! "If we break now, Gary, with my one last desire unfulfilled, we will go our separate ways. You will succeed or fail under your own steam
. I see now that you have more talent than I first thought. Any future success will be slow, and rocky, but if you keep calm and focus on the bigger picture, I have little doubt you'll succeed."
"And if I help you with whatever it is?" Gary tried to keep his eyes from flitting to the girl that dominated ninety percent of Darren's attention then realized it just didn't matter. He knew with sick certainty that whatever it was that Darren wanted with her, any sex that'd happen would be an afterthought.
"We will be the best and longest of friends, Garigtch Porfol, and from that relationship shall many things grow." Jordan felt his teeth lengthen, strengthen. Oh yes, there was finally going to be a proper feeding. It'd been so long he could scarcely remember the taste of warm flesh and hot blood sliding down his throat. "You will find yourself at the head of the Church of Nothing, a religious institution that will stretch from one end of this pitiful solar system to the other."
"And you?" Gary asked listlessly, defeated even before Darren's demand was made. How could he deny the unmistakable truth that whatever Darren Freoli was, he was a fiend with the ability to change the world around him? "What do you get from all of this?"
Jordan waved his hand dismissively. "Nothing you’d ever need, Gary, or even miss should you finally notice. What do you say?"
Gary licked his lips, tongue darting nervously. If he said yes, he was locked in to whatever insanity -and there was no way whatever Darren wanted fell into the 'normal' categories of standard hedonism and craziness- Darren wanted. If he said no, dreams of palatial mansions and unlimited power would fade as quickly as they'd risen. Darren's eyes were still wide as saucer plates, the blacks in the middle deep and wide enough to swallow him whole.
"This is a limited time offer only, Gary, surely you can see that."
The moment drew tight as a guitar string. Gary couldn't say no. He just couldn't. No matter what it was Darren wanted, no matter how depraved or vile. In his time in the criminal underworld, Gary had seen any number of sickening, maddening and/or depraved things happen to innocents and corrupt alike. He'd never been personally involved in those moments. He'd been too small a fish back then.
But here? Now? He was that same small fish, looking to grow bigger. The difference was, if he made them happen, he was in charge and would benefit. If he allowed them to happen, he was a pawn.
"What you need?" Gary put as much steel into his voice as he could in a bid to counter the hardness in Darren's tone.
Jordan pointed one long finger at the blonde. "Her. I want her."
Gary didn't even bother following the finger to the target. As far as Darren Freoli was concerned, there was only one other person in the BA that night, and it was the willowy blonde who danced like a dream and oozed sex from every pore. "For how long?"
Jordan put a warm hand on the back of Gary's sweaty, chill neck. "Not for long, Gary. Not long at all."
The BA proprietor narrowed his eyes. There was an air of painful finality in Darren's words, the weight of which opened up a fresh chasm in Gary's guts.
"Here?" The word came out a plaintive whisper. Worse had happened in the BA before now and there was little doubt similar would happen down the road. Every other time, though, he'd been the one cleaning up the mess, not the one making certain the mess would happen.
"I have no plans in going anywhere else, Gary. With the privacy settings on this booth at max, no one will be the wiser. About anything that happens in here." Jordan waited a few moments for everything to settle in Gary's mind before adding the final stab. "When I'm done, there won't be much of a mess, either, Gary, but someone ... discreet ... will need to visit, to, ah, tidy up."
Then he sat back, waiting, testing the air, sensing Gary’s mood, learning of regrettable acquiescence almost as soon as the man reached the decision inside his own mind. If only he’d possessed these kinds of abilities when he’d been an ordinary man, running a paltry little Conglomerate! How much easier the day to day grind would’ve been! And of course, there would’ve been no need to skulk around, working so diligently to acquire a fresh source of food.
He could’ve just snapped his fingers and made it happen.
Gary ran through the things he’d need to arrange once Darren was … once Darren was done. She’d need to be scrubbed from the camera footage inside the BA, that was for certain. Anything and everything she’d done tonight was easily manageable. There was definitely no need to worry about any one of the people on the dance floor reaching out to him or anyone else in search of the … tidbit. They were barely conscious themselves and there was definitely more than one person out there who probably had no idea the woman was even real.
Besides which, they were in the Black Altar. The last bastion of true freedom anywhere on the planet. There might be other establishments catering to similar hungers, but none of them were run by someone with official sanction from the CoN itself. No one would say anything, lest their own dirty laundry be aired in public.
Outside the BA, massaging the evening’s events might be a little more difficult, but with a little extra added effort and a few calls to the right people, Garigtch Porfol could disappear the woman from the planet. He’d wind up owing favors, but that was nothing new; if any of his outside contacts asked what or why, well, he had that covered as well.
People died in the Black Altar from drug overdoses pretty regularly, so that was that.
“We need to speed things up for me out there in the Church, Darren.” Gary paused at the threshold of the sound barrier. “He still looks down his nose at me. The others have accepted me as much as they’re capable, but Jerry still thinks he’s better than me. That can’t be allowed. You understand?”
Jordan’s eyes were on the girl. His senses were straining to pluck her heartbeat from the morass.
“Darren!” Gary turned to confront the man he’d colluded with, felt his heart nearly freeze in his chest.
It had to be a trick of the lightshow streaming in through the soundproof barrier of the booth or some other strange phenomenon he’d never seen before, but from where he stood, watching Darren stare out at the woman he was going to … enjoy, shadows were crawling the walls, almost as if they, too, were desperate to be somewhere, anywhere, else.
“You hear me, Darren? We go further, faster. No more of this penny ante bullshit.”
“I heard you the first time, Gary. And I agree.” Jordan nodded languidly. “No more of this penny ante bullshit. The sooner you sit at the throne, the sooner I get what I want, the sooner we can both arrange these little … meetings … without worry. I’ll have something for you by tomorrow evening. Are we agreed?”
Gary accepted the peace offering with a brusque nod of the head. He twisted the privacy knob on the booth to maximum, waited for the field to charge up to full, then bulled through the gauzy projection without another word. Shaking off the tremulous sensation that always happened when you moved through the silencer field with practiced ease, Gary pushed through the milling crowd towards the girl.
The price of power, real power, true influence … it wasn’t just paid for with hard work and extra hours. It was paid for in blood, sweat and tears, and as Gary Porfol reached the blonde girl with the amazing eyes and the wonderful hair, all tension and stress dissipated. That was all this was.
Work.
He gestured to the girl. It took a few seconds for the slip of a thing, breathless and wreathed in sweat, to realize he was trying to get her specific attention. When it dawned on her –or, more specifically, when awareness cracked through the river of chemicals and whatever else was in her system- that the owner of the BA wanted to talk to her, a smile blossomed on her face.
Gary ignored the winsome beauty’s reaction. She was part of the job, that was all. Nothing more. And in an hour or two or even shorter than that because realistically, the sick, humid hunger boiling from Darren struck Gary as the sort of disease that’d strike very quickly.
The girl slid into his arms and tilted her head to one side so he c
ould shout into her ear…
***
Jordan let more of the beast loose, watching the muscles of his forearms shiver and twist beneath flexible flesh. Thick, muscular coils thrashed this way and that, shuddering, rippling potential waiting to be released. His breath grew faint, shallow, swift and as he sat there, watching the girl as she sashayed towards the booth, a sly, sardonic grin on her lips that suggested she knew precisely what was going to happen and wanted it just as much as she’d wanted anything else in her life, Jordan felt other things in his body rise to attention as well.
Good Lord. She truly was beautiful. One in a million. Were he not who he was, had her fate not already been sealed, Jordan Bishop could easily imagine a lifetime with someone like the girl in the white dress and as the beast continued unwinding inside his skin, as the back of his mind filled with all the bitter, depraved things he was going to perpetrate upon her willing flesh –well, for a moment or two, before the truth of her plight sank in- he spent a moment or two imagining just what kind of a life they’d have together.
Then she was at the threshold. Jordan’s greedy eyes spotted her jugular, pulsing and throbbing with excitement and pleasure, pushing all that blood from her heart throughout her body, bringing life to where it was needed most. Sweat covered her body, matting long, blonde hair to her back. Portions of her brilliant white dress were nearly see through from dampness, revealing alluring hints of alabaster flesh just aching to be despoiled.
And then she was through.
“You want me?” The girl’s voice was like springtime in a valley. Butterflies and birds danced at her lyrical nature. She was something out of fantasy.
“Oh.” The word came out as more of a grunt than anything. The beast was nearly here. “You have no idea. Come. Sit by me.”
Jordan patted the cushion next to him, heart fluttering when the girl tucked errant strands of hair behind each ear. When she made herself comfortable, Jordan dared to speak again; the beast ached to feed as it always did, and with the promise of sustenance finally here, it wanted to get right down into it without further time wasted, but Jordan was still master. He wanted to prolong things, just a bit. “Is this your first time here?”