by K Alexis
Agra swiveled so he could look Tath over. He let his gaze drift down her mid-length curls, well-defined shoulders, ample cleavage and full thighs. The grape-colored hue of the strobes bathed her in genteel tones and accented her softness. Reaching over, he lifted up her oval chin so he could see straight into her eyes. They had a dual quality: malleable on the surface, but an unflinching flame buried behind her tawny irises. He knew she had always looked like this, her body and soul an eternal Babylon to other men. But a long time ago, he had made a decision about the contours of their relationship. He was reluctant to reverse that choice because of an unexpected change in his relationship status.
"You are the best of us," he said. He leaned over and pecked her on the forehead. "I wasn't sure what to do. Jetta was supposed to be a trickster and grifter. By the time I realized she wasn't, you had already gone all in on Mea." He finished his drink.
"Damn right I went all in. Hell, I can give you some serious tips on how to make her gasp like a scholar in a brothel." Tath ordered another serving of booze. "Can I sleep in your room tonight?"
"Probably not," Agra replied.
"I won't touch you like last time, promise. I was very young then."
"That was three months ago."
"I was younger then. And anyway, I only ran my hand through your hair. I didn't play with your damn control stick … despite how many times it poked me."
Agra said nothing, turning his glass over and placing it on the counter. "Run rabbit," he began, quoting a poem his mother had read him in his childhood. "Run to the fence and to the woodlands. Run until the land is flat and the seas are green. Run until the world is empty, and your soul is free."
"Did you get into my poetry collection again?" Tath asked.
"I'd read more of your novels and sonnets if they were written by Corsairs," he answered.
Agra noticed Tath's eyes narrow. "What have Corsairs got to do with this?" she questioned.
"You shouldn't be alarmed. You'd have made a good one." Agra tapped the side of his glass with his nails. "'Run Rabbit' is a poem about escaping our bonds. Civilization, language and popular art are all burdens to the true sea lover. Patterns that trap us, so to speak. So, you run until nothing is familiar. You run until there are no more landmarks you are able to recognize, and then you can discover your true self at the edge of the cosmos."
He pushed his Corsair communicator over to Tath and powered it on. Junko's picture lit up in the corner, along with their conversation. If he had to rate Junko and Tath on an attractiveness scale like men did to women when they were drunk, he would not have said Junko was better looking. Her face was triangular with a sharp jaw that provided a tinge of anger to her constantly dispassionate gaze. She had skinny brown lips and fawn-colored skin. Atop her facial fury sat a mess of long, wavy hair that appeared to have been blown by a gust of wind seconds before.
"There's only one 'J' in my life," Agra said. He tapped Junko's image. "She's caused me enough trouble for all the others though."
"You’re a watcher," Tath surmised, a hint of finality in her tone. She picked up the communicator and started to read the messages between him and Junko.
"Maybe, but I'm a very bad watcher," Agra replied. "I've got friends and people I believe in. I've spent my life hoping to settle down with one woman." He rubbed his scalp. "It's possible Junko wanted the same thing at some point, I guess. A man has to have some delusions."
"So, the jails cells, the torture chambers, dolphin tickling and scars …"
"Yep," Agra confirmed before signaling for another drink.
"Almighty J on a megalodon," Tath uttered. "What the fantastical fuck were you thinking?"
Agra rested his elbows on the counter and stared at the selection of well-aged liqueurs across from him. He had not been thinking; he had been hoping. The cardinal error of any sailor.
"She was the last piece of my childhood," he said. "The last connection to my Corsair-self. How was I supposed to give that up?"
Tath snorted. "If these messages are any indication, your teens must've been one festival of fucking after another. You never thought to slide any of that action my way?"
He shrugged. "It's true I wasn't horny or desperate after Sacramento. Let's leave it at that. After all, Corsairs don't place much significance in sex: it's a physical need to be satisfied." He chuckled. "See, I told you that you would've fitted in." The drink arrived and Agra took a sip. "My mistake was thinking Junko existed outside of culture and history."
"We can't escape the tentacles of the past and all that shit," Tath said. She let out a low whistle. "Seems like everyone's trying to ruin my fucking night. All I'm stumbling onto is one mopey coward after another."
"Well," Agra began, "I didn't want you to have any more surprises after Mea, in case you're still obsessed with screwing my brains out after we rescue this Navigator. Inadvisable, by the way. Friends are for life, lovers till the dawn."
Tath shook her head and slammed her shot glass on the counter, causing it to slide across the surface. Agra watched as it came perilously close to falling off the edge.
"Living recklessly," he commented, downing his drink.
"What you going to do about it, bitch?" Tath retorted. "Kiss me?"
Agra looked at her lips; they were full of promise and moist with passion. He thought about it—he was single, after all—but chose to search for his wallet instead. The Aras only accepted paper currency, so he could not use his N-Comm for the bill like he had in Kakinada. "I'm giving you another reason to forgive Mea," he said, throwing enough money next to his shot glass to pay for both of their drinks. "Navigator, Corsair, or Starfire—what does it matter in this game called love?" He snapped his fingers and started to move to the music. "Come dance terribly with me like when we were kids and all you had was a half-crackly imagination player in your apartment for entertainment." He motioned for her to follow him.
"We need to talk about tomorrow," Tath replied.
He pointed to his ears. "I can't hear you. The music is too loud. It's like an underground club over here."
"In the messages, Junko said there's a golem. What does tha—"
"I still can't hear you." When Tath did not join him, Agra assessed the dance-space for the most likely person to be a Corsair watcher. He noted a woman who appeared to have less inhibitions than anyone else but also looked like she could easily fit in with the locals. He shuffled over to her and attempted to swing in synch with her movements. The pain from his injuries limited his already modest dance repertoire to a jerky assortment of shuffles and hand movements. Whether out of pity or genuine interest in Agra's off beat hip-sways, she moved closer to him, sashaying backward and making sure he could feel the firmness of her backside go up and down his crotch. "I bet you're a Common speaker," she stated.
"An inescapable reality," he answered. "You a local here?"
She reached up and ran the back of her hand along his jawline. "Baby, I'm a local everywhere. But if your horizontal is only a little worse than this vertical, I'm willing to take you somewhere heavenly tonight."
She clapped her hands and let out a warble, swaying against him as she danced down to the floor and back up again. "Or are you one those fly-in teases from the Mainland? Cause if that's so, there's someone else on the way who's definitely willing to make merry with me this season." She spun around and leapt into his arms. Her legs hooked onto his back, and she used them to lock herself around Agra's waist. "But I doubt he'll be as cute."
Agra glanced over to where Tath had been sitting, but she was gone. He let out a faint chuckle and refocused on the woman hanging off of him. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Zia."
"Are you the watcher Junko messaged me about?"
The Corsair smirked at his comment. "It must be my lucky night then," she answered. "Our mutual 'acquaintance' usually sets me up with the most hideous men and keeps the best for herself. But you're something else entirely. It's no wonder why she wanted a threesome. Yo
u going to send her a message and tell her to swing down? It doesn't look like your other friend is interested in my bedroom moves." Zia nodded toward Tath's now empty seat.
Agra pulled the watcher in close enough that her chocolate-brown hair could roll down his chest. He put his hand gently behind her neck and took in the sparkles dancing around her auburn eyes. "I'd prefer to have a goddess like you all to myself, if that's alright." When Zia did not object, he leaned in and kissed her—no longer fighting the desires that had been building since Jetta.
3:23pm: Azra [P. Watcher 18034568X]
I assume you sent Nal to help. Thanks.
Sat, 25 Oct 65 P.C.T., 6:04pm: Junko [channel 37A4R]
You're welcome. And the golem's type is restricted. Don't worry your pretty head about it. All you need to know is that it's got your Navigator, is extracting her memories and has allied with the Grinners. If you meet Nal as planned tomorrow, everything will be fine.
As for us, you still up for that threesome? I sent Zia, the watcher, over to the hotel. Let me know when Tath and the others have gone back to their rooms, and I'll meet you.
11:17pm: Azra [P. Watcher 18034568X]
Tath and I are busy planning our attack strategy for tomorrow. Don't wait up.
Twenty-seven: The Friend
AS STEH SAT on a metal bench, he stared into the murkiness beyond the reach of the street lights. The shape of the peninsula could be made out, but it was cloaked in a grainy film that made the world appear to be nothing more than assembled dots struggling to keep their individuality in a sea of sameness.
Post-Punch he had never had any issues controlling his emotions; he could appreciate their flavors as was his wont, but also dismiss them as easily. And yet, here, in a place where the tides of power were nothing more than a low murmur, he could no longer snap his fingers and make his feelings dissipate so he could focus on the challenges ahead. Perhaps it was because he had been ready for death, but not the inevitable betrayal preceding it. Mea's decision had ripped a hole in his soul he did not know how to repair. And he could feel his anger, confusion and anguish pound against the magical numbing all Starfires experienced. The emotional turmoil forced him to consider why he had almost plummeted to his doom.
He had been betrayed.
For books.
For seven books.
And homesickness.
And a woman Mea thought she loved.
All tallied, he knew Mea had made off with a surplus in their exchange. He could not fault her … and if he looked beyond his immediate pride and fury, could not blame her either. Society demanded he do both. That was how things worked in this world. He had to take the role of victim and act out the dialogue assigned: a private, heated exchange with Mea followed by awkward silence when they were in the same room together. It was the civil way to process a betrayal so friends, family and acquaintances did not have to modify their lives or relationships in any significant way. Essentially, it was the Grinner philosophy writ large: community theater rather than individual compassion. A way of life for those who refused to accept the shadows crept as far as the light.
Whether Grinners wished to admit it or not, everything had a price and Steh knew that better than most. Clarice's fame had come at the cost of his torture. Mea's mercy had driven away her family. Lara's life had been sacrificed for Tath's survival. He wondered what the universe would demand in compensation for his second-chance at existence.
"This weather's shit for my curls," Tath said. He heard her slump next to him on the bench and yawn as she stretched. "I thought I'd have to walk a good mile or so, but no, you've barely moved three minutes down the 'niche."
"I'm not into midnight walks," he replied.
"It's not midnight yet."
"It's midnight somewhere." He tapped his thigh. "Show me your leg." She put both on top of him, grunting in the process. "It looks like you followed my instructions precisely," he commented.
"Don't even fucking start," she retorted. "Ag just vomited out he's a Corsair and then ran off to fuck some rando. And that's fine, I guess. Good for him after everything we've been through. But he's stealing my role in this group. I'm the one who gets all the action, not him."
"He told me you're with Mea now," Steh replied as he ran his hands over Tath's legs. He could sense the left one's natural rhythms were significantly distorted. It was not the same as before when only minor modifications had been needed—Tath required considerable re-casting. Fortunately, healing major bodily damage was much easier than minor fixes as the adjustments were on a macro, not micro, scale. His feeble attempt would not be perfect, but it would treat the worst of it with little-to-no risk. He moved his hands in a winding motion, slowly correcting the life-force threads emanating from her.
"She fucking tried to murder you," Tath said, wincing as he realigned the most entangled aspects. "Am I the only one who gives a shit about this?"
"Mea had her reasons, one of them being you." Steh patted Tath's ankle to signal he had finished. "I knew it was coming."
She rotated off him and placed her feet on the ground. "That doesn't excuse it."
"In her culture, it does," he countered.
Tath stretched her legs. "You must be getting better at this healing shit. That feels pretty great." She gazed at the inlet. Steh could hear its waves lap against the concrete seawall. Tath ruffled her hair. "Are you really Stehlan Ehrans?" she asked.
"Yes."
"And we never noticed. Fuck. There are missing-person posters up in every other tract for you."
"Of a fourteen-year-old," Steh added, trying to be consoling. "I doubt many people can identify me by sight alone." He held his hand out and summoned one of his cards. It hovered in the air and projected a three-dimensional image of Jetta's face. "She's a strange one," he said. "I don't understand what she gained from releasing me. Is my escape part of a much larger plan?"
Tath shook her head. "You don't get to ask shit like that. You're a fucking Starfire. Lying is in your bones. It's as much a part of who you are as my bleeding goddamn heart."
Steh lifted his palm up. The card floated over and landed in the middle of his hand. "You don't trust me?" he asked.
"I don't know," Tath admitted, fidgeting with her hem. "It's not your fault. Starfires don't have the same emotional range as humans. You can't comprehend what it feels like to have your whole fucking world flipped upside down after learning your best friend has misled you for decades. I know it's just emotional bullshit, not a physical threat to my fucking life, but it feels like it is."
"I do try to remember what life felt like before this," Steh said. "But it's been a long time."
Tath sighed. "Steh, I want to know you're still my friend." She peered at him. Her tawny eyes turned almost black as if they had been placed in the shade of a narrow alleyway. "I need to know the last six years weren't a mirage. That everything we felt, experienced, talked about—they made our friendship stronger … not an inconvenience you put up with for your safety."
"They were—"
Tath did not seem to hear him and she rambled on, "All those times we laughed and cried together, they were genuine, right? When you held me and said everything was going to be fine and celestial peaches, were you fucking with my emotions?" She grabbed his jacket; her fists were almost white. "Tell me you're worth all the scars on my body."
"I’m the same person you’ve spent the last few years with," Steh answered. "I haven’t changed. And I've bled for our group, the same as everyone else."
She let him go and got up. "That's not a lot, but it'll have to do. Are you sure you don’t have another secret? You’re not an intergalactic tugboat-magnate trying to sell Earth to an aquatic super-species?"
"Not to my knowledge," he replied.
"Well, that’s a fucking relief." Tath hesitated but then pressed on, "Has Agra told you anything about the golem?"
"Briefly, and only what Junko's shared with him. It’s extracting the Navigator’s memories and has made a pact
with the Grinners."
"I read those parts. Do you think you can kill it?"
"I assume if we punch it very angrily, we might win. It’s our time-tested strategy, after all."
Tath rounded on him, using her standing position to give her words extra emphasis. "You know what I’m asking. I don't know shit about golems, but I assume Junko wouldn't involve us unless it was fucking powerful. I need you to be with us one hundred percent on this. Whatever devildom you're holding back, I want to know you're going to unleash the fuck out of it if things turn into a shitshow."
"You have no idea what you're requesting," Steh replied.
"What if I do?" Tath barked. "I want more time. I want a few more weeks to figure out if I love Mea enough to leave everything behind. You can’t kill one mythical creature for me? Not even after everything Ag and I’ve done for you?"
Steh looked away from her and at the ocean. "Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. If we’re lucky, Junko will have a plan when we meet her tomorrow."
Twenty-eight: The Ex
AGRA WANTED TO say he regretted nothing about the previous night, but his tired limbs forced him to concede otherwise. Zia had made good on her promise to "make merry" with him, and their festivities had lasted until two in the morning. In spite of her apparent enjoyment during the heat of their celebrations, he had woken up alone in her hotel room. A small note written in Common had told him she had gone to work, and he could let himself out.
Tath handed him a cup of coffee from the subway's snack bar. "Did the woman from last night help you find your rabbit?" she asked.
He took the drink and sipped it. "No, but it's a start, I guess. This is new territory for me. I haven't dated anyone but Junko."
Tath tapped her coffee to his. "You'll figure it out. Dating can be fun once you get the hang of it."