by Ryan Vermont
I lived in Scrubber’s Row, an expanse of apartments carved into the rock for the original construction workers to live. After the station was built, the workers moved on, and the apartments became a drop zone for anyone who needed a cheap place to live, such as me. The landlord, a senator from the uppers, didn’t bother us much, so long as we paid our rent. The local watch committee kept the riffraff under control, so we didn’t have much trouble from the militia. For a cheap place to live, it was quiet and drama-free most of the time.
“I missed you,” a voice said from behind me.
I turned around to see a vision in blue and white. Zilpha stood in the hall that led to the main room of my small apartment. She wore a white dress that highlighted her neon pink hair and azure features. She wasn’t that tall, just a bit over five feet, short in some ways. She wore no shoes, and I was in the process of taking my boots off. Yes, it was a good thing I got back in time.
I took her hand as we sat down on the couch I’d salvaged out of a repossessed office building a few months ago.
“How was Drez?” she asked. I could see the concern in her ice-blue eyes.
“Your brother is fine,” I almost spat when I mentioned his relation to her. “He only tried to kill me two or three times. One of these days, that fucker is going to push me too far. If it wasn’t for you, I might’ve done it already.”
I’d met Zilpha a few weeks after Drez got me the job with the Cinzar family. I was working the door at Boss Korth’s place that afternoon when a small but solid woman walked up and said she had a message for her brother.
“Who’s that?” I asked, trying to hide my erection.
“A guy named Drez,” she snapped. I could tell she was irritated at something.
“Who shall I say is calling?” I asked with a smirk. I wanted to string this one out as much as possible.
“You can tell him his sister Zilpha needs to talk to him,” she snapped. “Our mother died, and he has to get home now!”
I had to be the one to find Drez. At least I got to meet her that day. Funny it never occurred to me she was kin to him. They don’t look that much alike, although both have the same lighter blue tone you see in Mobersian-Terran mixes.
We started going out after the funeral. I was asked to attend by Drez, as he couldn’t stand his goody-goody sister and wanted someone to console her. We clicked for some reason, although I didn’t have a lot of experience with high-quality women at the time. It’s hard to learn the romantic arts when you constantly train to kill people and most of the women you’re permitted to see have hourly rates. Six months after we’d met, she’d moved in with me, which is what started the problems with Drez.
“I don’t like it when you’re gone on these jobs,” she told me as one bare foot went across my lap. “You won’t talk about them, and they always involve that brother of mine. As far as I’m concerned, the reason my mother is dead is because he broke her heart.”
“Look," I told her, while I massaged the tiny foot on my lap. “I have a limited set of skills that the big outfits don’t need. We’ve been over this. The only way I’m going to save up some money and get us to the top level is by working for Korth. Now, if that means having to put up with your jerk sibling, I’ll do it. I don’t like it much either, because he tends to push me too far.” I declined to let her know how far her brother had pushed me this time.
“You keep talking about moving up,” Zilpha told me, as she placed her head on my shoulder. “But I worry we’ll never get there. Besides, you know the Fathers will never accept you or me. Especially me. I’m a metice. I see the way they look at me every day. No one says a word because they know about us. Plus, they know who my brother works for, and no one wants to get on his bad side.”
Zilpha worked at a diner down the road that catered to the locals. She didn’t get much flack because everyone around knew about her connections to the family. And me. Once in a great while, some punk would try to make time with her. Then one of the older patrons would have to give him “the talk.” It didn’t happen too often.
“I think you look just fine,” I told her.
I grabbed Zilpha by the back of the head and brought her mouth to mine. She tasted of cinnamon and lust. My lust, that is. I’d been without for two weeks. Now was the time to make up for it. As I suspected, she didn’t have anything on under her dress.
It took less time to get my clothes off too. I wanted to let her do it and enjoy the moment, but Zilpha was in a hurry. I thought she was going to tear my top off with her teeth, so I managed to get it off on my own. By the time I had my pants off, she was already in the shower, waiting for me.
There’s something about finding a light blue woman who has enormous breasts and short, spiked hair in your shower to give a man the boner of a lifetime. I was so stiff, I thought it would smash through the glass door on my way in.
Once inside, we managed to use up all the hot water when she jumped on top of me and wrapped her legs around my thighs. I was inside her in seconds. Zilpha’ s small, but she works out a lot in her spare time and knows how to put her legs to use. I came the first time in five strokes.
“You’re not over that easy,” she told me and hopped off. I was about to ask her what she meant but found out when Zilpha dropped to her knees in the confined space of the shower. She had my tool in her mouth and washed the head down with her tongue to get it back in action.
The next time, I pushed her up against the shower wall; it took me a while to get there. I was able to make sure she was satisfied by the way she raked those sharp nails against my back. For reasons I still don’t understand, Zilpha makes these high-pitched squeaks when she climaxes. That day, she sounded like a balloon releasing air.
We ended up in the bedroom with her on top of me. This always works better because of the size difference. I laid there and watched my star sapphire lover move up and down on my shaft for at least an hour. She’d missed it as much as I had. At least, that’s what she told me the third time I squeezed her nipples.
Now, the funny thing is, her nipples are red. As is the hair on her lower parts. I’ve never understood why this is, and she doesn’t dye it. Seems to be another one of those genetic markers. I recalled this while I was down on her later, returning the shower favor as I applied some oral pressure to her sweet spot (which is in the same location as Terran women). I knew she was maxed out when I heard her yell "Fuuuuuuck!" so loud, it had the neighbor pounding on the wall.
One more shower and play later, we sat around the table in the kitchen and held hands while we talked about the future. We needed to catch up on what had happened during the previous weeks too.
“I can see you saved it up for me,” she said and kissed my fingers.
“I trust you’ve been without?” I asked. She nodded.
No, we don’t have an "open relationship” or anything like that. However, there are a few people I don’t mind her sleeping with. All of which are women. Zilpha went through a period when she left her mother’s house when she couldn’t decide which way she swam. At least,until she met me. These are all old girlfriends I know and approve of. She’s seen them less and less the longer we’ve been together. I guess she’d started to realize which team she batted for.
“Met a woman at the diner I might bring over some night,” she teased me. I had the final say on any of those. Anyone who slept over had to spend at least one evening out with the both of us until I decided she was sane enough to share our bed for an evening. Too much crazy in this universe.
“So, who’s it this time?” I asked.
“Terran girl who works in one of the offices,” she told me in a sly manner. “She came into the diner three times while I was on duty. Blonde for a change. Little tall for me, but you might like her. I caught her staring at my ass the last time, and she left me her phone number.”
Zilpha reached down under the table and gave me a squeeze. “I’m sure we could figure out a position if you like her.”
It wa
s that minute the tabletop turned into a screen and began to flash red.
“What the hell is that?” Zilpha gasped and released her grip. “Did I do something wrong? You’ve never complained of me doing that before!” She shoved her chair away from the table.
I looked down at the tabletop and saw an image of Drez and some goons in front of the door to my apartment. Oh, shit. Trouble. And the week before the furnace was supposed to be fixed. The landlord was going to give me a galaxy of pain for this. But not half the pain I would deal to her shithead brother if this is what I thought it was about.
“Looks like Drez is here,” I announced as I cracked my knuckles. “And he’s brought some friends.”
Worse, there was another call coming in, and it was Korth. More trouble.
I counted five of them. These weren’t the usual slugs that you picked up for these kinds of jobs; Drez had some talented Terrans out there. This was serious.
I recognized one guy with a tattoo on his face as Frank Sims, a nasty bare-knuckle fighter from down at the back alleys behind the warehouses. Frank wasn’t that tall and fooled people with his appearance. He specialized in beating men bloody, the kind who who didn’t think he could last four rounds. These fights were unsanctioned matches where the fate of the loser was left to the crowd. It could be horrible if he lost people money. I’d seen losers tossed over the ropes and beaten to death by men who were furious when all their cash vanished. The only good thing I could say about those fights was the lack of people taking a dive. All the money in the station did you no good if you stood to be lynched.
The second one I spotted was a lob by the name of Dick Yosemite. Dick was well named as he made his coin by shaking down small convenience shops in parts of town that couldn’t afford standard protection. For a small fee, Dick would keep your storefront free of pickpockets, thieves, and hold-up men. If you didn’t pay, or found someone cheaper, he’d see to it your joint was hit by one disaster after another. You either went with him, or you closed shop.
Behind him was a young guy I knew to be Deathworm, a little punk from the next district over. “Worm” as we liked to call him. He claimed to have an army 10,000 strong that would come to his aid at a moment’s call. This was an impressive boast, as no one ever saw this force. Personally, I thought he watched too many videos. The only thing he did have, for sure, was a tendency to inflict pain on anyone who got in his way.
The last one I recognized was Primitive Art Now, or “Prim” as we called him. Prim was supposed to be some rich kid from the upper levels dumped down here when his connected family couldn’t control him any longer. He got his name on the day he showed up. The rumor was that someone asked him why he was there, and he used that phrase. He held up longer than anyone expected but still couldn’t find steady work.
There was another kid hanging back I couldn’t identify. He appeared to be 18 or so and wore a top with some band logo on it.
“You need to get out of here,” I told Zilpha. “Things are about to get nasty.” I’d put some clothes on earlier and went to the nearest closet to grab something. Once the closet door was open, I checked to make sure a certain panel still glowed yellow. It did.
“Engage," I told the panel, and it turned red. I was about to see if one of my new toys could do what it was supposed to.
The next thing I did was reach under the shelf over the clothes hangers and pull out the Wombat .475 automatic pistol that I kept stored in the hidden compartment. The Wombat had taken me through a lot over the years, and I used it as backup as opposed to any of the new guns on the market. I pulled it out with one hand and found the ammunition box. I’d need both. Some ghee’s keep them loaded, but that never seemed to be a good policy. Too easy for someone to grab the gun and use it on you.
I proceeded to load the handgun while I closely watched the screen mounted into the middle of the table. Drez and his goons were in the process of a conference of some kind.
I found Zilpha’s purse and tossed it to her. She hadn’t moved yet. Still in the same white dress with no underwear. I couldn’t risk anything happening to her. She’d been through too much since her mother died, and I wanted to see things turn out right for her.
I found my boots and strapped them on. Always a good plan when you might have to stomp someone in the head. I looked over at Zilpha again. She had the purse in her hand. I tossed her a pair of sandals. She slipped them on but still didn’t move.
Her eyes seemed to flash green. If that was the case, she was excited about something. Sometimes, I had trouble remembering what mood matched the shade of her eyes. Drez didn’t have the same color range with his, but he’d picked up the eye color shift gene from his father too.
“Are you going to kill him?” she asked me. It was an honest question.
“Depends on why he’s here,” I told her.
I looked over at the table. Korth was no longer trying to reach me. Guess he’d found out his torpedoes were already in range of the target.
“Go, Zilpha,” I told her again, this time with force. “I can’t have you involved in this. Take the fire escape.”
It took her all of five seconds to vanish out the back window. She was tiny, solid, and fast. The last I saw was her purse slinging out the window behind her.
“Show time,” I spoke aloud and squeezed the Wombat. I had to ensure it would recognize my palm signature.
“Ammunition chambered and loaded,” the gun confirmed. I’d named it Ralph, after an old friend who died in a tragic way. “Oil schedule is up-to-date, although I could use a routine cleaning next month. Next week, if you employ me against multiple targets today.”
“The way it’s shaping up,” I told Ralph, “I’ll have to take you apart and clean everything tonight.”
“Bullets are in good condition. I do not detect any potential hang-fires. The slide has 10 of them ready to be used. I recommend loading up more if you anticipate extended gunplay.”
“Thanks, Ralph,” I spoke to the pistol. I walked over to the table to get a better look at how things were shaping up outside.
It appeared there was some difference of opinion over who was to do what. I sat there, gun in hand, and watched Drez attempt to assert his authority over the group, but they weren’t having it. Frank shoved him back at one point, and Drez grabbed Frank’s shoulders. Drez picked Frank up off the ground and dropped him next to Prim. Frank didn’t hit the ground too hard; he managed to regain his footing. Still, you could tell that he was pissed.
I walked over to the closet and spoke into the open door. “Everything ready?” I asked.
“All traps and countermeasures are operational,” the closet answered. “I see six sentient beings outside the front door ready to initiate hostile activity. One other sentient being left by the fire escape two minutes ago. I have you and Ralph on my scanner. I can provide a defensive network if you need my help.”
“That’s liable to be real soon,” I laughed.
Chapter Five
I stood there waiting for Drez and his goon squad to make the first move. Finally, I heard the buzzer from the front door go off. Well, well, they’d settled on a plan of action. I tried to remember when the last time Drez was over here, as I had all manner of new toys for him to play with. This just might be fun.
I walked back over to the table and looked at the screen in the middle of it. Drez’s blue face was right in the center. He thought the creeps behind him were hidden from view, but I had a panoramic scan of everything going on in the hallway. Good thing I’d had enough sense to put sound dampeners inside the apartment. Once they were past the door, I could muffle things a bit. Out in the hall, this wasn’t an option. Oh, well, time to act as if I was surprised.
“Hello, Drez,” I said to the smarmy face in the screen. “To what honor do I owe this call? You know, I was just thinking about you.”
“I’m sure you were," he snarked back. “Was you bent over a couch?”
“No, I was washing my tool,” I tossed bac
k at him. “It reminded me of you for some reason. So, what’s up, and why are you at my front door?”
Drez tried to ignore my questions. “Is my sister inside?” he asked.
“I sent her down to the store to buy a pint of ice cream. You want to know what we’re going to do with it?”
“Look, you prick,” he growled, “the boss wants to see you. You better come with me right now if you want to keep your ass out of trouble.”
“And why should I do that? Something I should know about?”
“You know what this is over! I don’t have to go into detail! The boss is furious over what happened with that ship!”
I tried to act amused. “So, is this an informational interview, or am I on trial? Does that make you my defense attorney?”
I watched as Drez’s eyes went silver again. “Goddamit, you cheese head, you better get your ass out here and come with us or the shit will get deep! I don’t have to remind you what the boss does to assholes that piss him off!”
“Just a minute,” I told him. “My wash is in the dryer, and I need to get it out.”
Before Drez could deliver another stream of obscenities, I shut off the audio to the screen and sat back to watch. This might prove instructive.
“Hey, closet,” I called out to my security system. “I recognize them all but that redhead kid in the background. What you got on him?”
There was a pause while the AI assessed the security database in the Nyx Militia. You weren’t supposed to be able to do this, but every lock has a key. I’d paid a lot for my current security system. Some people use these hacks to check out their credit rating; I use mine to find out if there are any outstanding warrants on me.