El Finito Book 1

by M. E. Thorne

  Again, for a second I was afraid I would be jealous, but the smile across Gnasher’s face and the faint blush on Spinny’s cheek was a soothing sight.

  Nasher hung on Spinny’s armored back and almost immediately began playing with the other woman’s hair. Spinny had thick, dark hair, which hung almost to her abdomen. Normally she wore it up in braids, but it appeared she hadn’t had time to style it that morning.

  “Stop it." She tried to shoo Gnasher away, but I could tell she wasn’t trying very hard. Gnasher giggled and started braiding her hair.

  “Gnasher, what have you told Spinny so far about what happened?” I asked, suddenly remembering and feeling guilty about the illegal firearm we had hidden upstairs.

  “Just the basics,” she said. “Why don’t you just tell her from the start?”

  When Gnasher and Spinny had invited me to cohabitate with them and begin our relationship, we had all agreed on complete honesty and open communication. Anything that could affect the relationship, or its members, had to be discussed and a course of action agreed upon by all of us.

  It was a difficult policy to get used to, but I had grown to appreciate it. Even when it wasn’t the easiest thing to work my way through.

  “You need to get rid of that gun,” Spinny stated flatly after I had finished.

  “Agreed." I held up my hands in a placating manner. Even after describing what happened, I felt horrible for involving the Arachne in our mess. She had been nothing but wonderful to us.

  She sighed and began rocking her body, sending her swinging in a small circle.

  Before meeting her, I had never got a chance to see an Arachne up close and in person. They were very rare, from what I had gathered they were almost an endangered species, by chimeric standards. For some reason, I had previously thought they had eight eyes, like their spider ancestors. But they only had two, perfectly human-looking, eyes. And it was clear by Spinny’s eyes that the idea of a gun in her home filled her with acute stress.

  “Gnasher and I are off from work today. I know someone I can probably sell it to,” I said, grasping for an answer. “Someone who runs a market for -- questionable goods.”

  Both women looked at me questioningly, forcing me to explain.

  “It’s not like you think,” I claimed. “Gnasher, I told you I was unofficially exploring for a few years before I applied to be a delver, right? Nothing illegal, freelance stuff into old areas that had already been cleared out or hadn’t been designated by the State as recovery sites.”

  “Why?” asked Spinny, slowing down her rocking as she listened.

  “To practice,” I shrugged. “I dreamed of being a delver since I was a kid, but I knew I had to have experience and skills to apply, especially since I didn’t study that career in school. So I practiced during every spare hour I could find.” I smiled a bit to myself. “That’s when I picked up my nickname, Locke.”

  Nobody in El Finito had a name, officially speaking. Everyone was issued an ID number by the State, which they used to identify, track, and monitor their citizens. People were free to call themselves by whatever name or handle they chose during their daily lives.

  Gnasher claimed she picked hers because she used to love scaring the other kids in her school by showing off her huge, vicious teeth. Spinny’s name seemed obvious, with her occupation and biology. I picked Locke because I was proud of my lockpicking and infiltration skills.

  “While I was doing this, I couldn’t approach the Guild or anyone official for supplies,” I continued.

  “What was your occupation before?” Spinny was curious.

  “He was a builder,” laughed Gnasher. “He hated it!”

  “My parents’ idea,” I supplied. “Anyway, I worked with this guy who sold me all the tools and supplies I needed during my training exercises. He runs a small, unlicensed shop. I never bought anything illegal from him, but I knew he dealt contraband on occasion. I’ll go see --”

  “We’ll,” Gnasher corrected. “We’ll go see him.”

  “Okay, we’ll go see him and try to sell him the gun. If not,” I looked to Gnasher. “We’ll get rid of it. No matter what, we won’t bring it back to this house.”

  Gnasher slid off Spinny’s back, giving her a little kiss on the cheek as she did. “We promise. And I’m sorry, I should have thought to ask you about this before we brought it home.”

  “Thank you,” the spider-woman replied, looking relieved.

  “Why don’t we split the credits three ways?” Gnasher suggested, surprising me. She spoke hurriedly. “We already got you involved anyway, Spinny, by bringing it here and putting you at risk. And don’t say you can’t use the credits, I know you were looking into buying a new dying vat the other week.”

  I nodded, feeling relieved. “I agree, it only seems fair.”

  “Speaking of work.” Spinny landed on the floor and looked over her shoulder. “I need to get started for the day.”

  “Can we head out now and see your friend?” Gnasher asked.

  I checked my tablet, it was still early in the morning. “We should be good if we hurry. Noctis, the guy who I keep talking about, is a Hatuibwari, a bat-hybrid, so he tends to sleep during the day. We should be able to catch him before he goes to bed.”

  Gnasher pumped her fist in the air, “Then let’s hurry up and go!”

  The State maintained commercial districts for licensed shops, restaurants, and businesses. They sold goods and services at a price set by the State. But people were free to run shops and side-businesses as long as they didn’t try to sell anything on the proscribed list; like medicine, or anything illegal; like weapons or narcotics.

  Obviously, where we’re heading falls outside those bounds, I thought as we took a series of stairs down deeper into the warrens below the Metrocomplex. Like Spinny, I agreed that the sooner we got rid of the gun, the better.

  The State only occupied the tiny portion of The Stacks that they’d managed to explore and map. The last study I had heard about estimated that it was less than one percent.

  The rest of the planet was considered dangerous and unknown, the roaming grounds for ghouls, killer plants, and the otherwise nameless, unknown horrors left behind by the corporations and their final war. Even someone on the edge of society, like Noctis, didn’t stray too far from populated areas and the safety granted by the State.

  “You left your tablet at home?” I asked Gnasher, as we entered a small shopping arcade full of unlicensed businesses. There was no sense letting the State know where we were going, it could only cause us headaches.

  “Of course,” she growled. “Just relax, you’re way too tense. You’ve got me, so we’ll be fine.”

  The hall was crowded with shoppers. The State only provided the basics required for survival; rations, shelter, and health-care. Everyone used official, licensed shops to get what they needed; food, home goods, and utilitarian clothing. Unlicensed businesses are where you went to get what you wanted; fancy clothes, comfy bed sheets, sugary snacks, bootleg videos, liquor, and so much more.

  Neon signs, always in-demand as a salvage item, were everywhere. They dyed the world in hues of electric blue and shocking pink. Air recyclers ran constantly overhead, their din drowned out by the call of hawkers and shopkeepers.

  “Would you look at that,” my girlfriend pointed to the other side of the concourse, at a group wearing white hazmat suits. “What are Syndicate goons doing down here?”

  I frowned and unconsciously patted Gnasher’s bag to make sure the gun was still hidden inside.

  The simplest word to describe the relationship between the Syndicate and El Finito was difficult.

  The Syndicate was a multi-system government, claiming vast swaths of galactic territory with several dozen inhabited planets. That technically included El Finito.

  Their exploration craft had shown up a couple of decades after the end of the Corporation War. They had attempted to annex our planet, hoping to add it to their holdings.

  T
hat had ended badly for them.

  Every expeditionary team, survey squad, and military task force they sent down to the planet dropped dead in a matter of hours. All without anyone having to raise a hand against them.

  When the corporations had gone to war, they had devised weapons of awe-inspiring ingenuity and cruelty. But none were more effective than their bio-weapons, smart plagues, self-evolving viruses, and nano-clouds that ate people from the inside out. Even long after they had killed each other off, the corporations’ weapons were still here, all around us.

  As residents of El Finito, we were largely immune to them. Our chimeric nature gave us unnatural resistances to most illnesses, and growing up in a veritable petri dish of bio-weapons had only boosted our immune systems even further. Syndicate members had no such resistance, even their best doctors could only find treatment or cures for a handful of the diseases we lived with every minute of our lives.

  So the State let the Syndicate exhaust themselves and then finally brought them to the negotiation table. Our planet became a Protected Ally, and the State was left to run the day-to-day affairs. The Syndicate built an embassy in the Metrocomplex, creating a small bubble of safety for their staff, and then pretended like they were the ones who were in charge.

  The State traded with the Syndicate for the things we couldn’t make or find on our own. We were particularly reliant on them to bolster our food supply and for advanced medicine. In return, they got access to the technology and knowledge we dredged out of The Stacks. They were just as hungry as we were for the secrets of the corporations.

  They maintained a strict quarantine around our planet, supposedly to protect the rest of the galaxy from the deadly diseases that plagued our world. The Syndicate ran the only spaceport, controlling all routes on and off world.

  Which at the end of the day suited the State just fine, since they were focused on keeping their citizens alive, healthy, and safe. They didn’t have the time or resources to worry about things in the wider galaxy.

  It was very rare to see a Syndicate member outside the Embassy, I’d only seen them a handful of times. They had developed bulky hazmat suits to help protect themselves from the more insidious dangers El Finito presented. But even one small breach or tear in their suits and they’d likely be dead within a few hours. There was no known cure for exposure.

  Why are there Syndicate members down here? I nervously asked myself. I’ve never seen them out and about, especially without State soldiers escorting them.

  One of the Syndicate members stepped away from their group, and our gazes met across the crowd for a split second. Through her clear faceplate, I could see she was really pretty. She had an ebony complexion, curly dark hair, and large, expressive eyes.

  “She’s cute,” Gnasher purred into my ear. I practically jumped out of my skin.

  “What?" I blushed furiously. By the time I looked back, the Syndicate member had been grabbed and yanked back into line.

  “I said she’s cute.” Gnasher ran a finger along the edge of my ear. “You could always ask her out. Remember, I told you, we are in a committed, open relationship. As long as we talk about it and agree, I’m fine with you dating other people.” She leaned in conspiratorially, “You can even fuck them if you want. We just need to talk about it beforehand.”

  Feeling even more embarrassed and nervous, I turned and watched as the Syndicate members were swept away by the push of traffic.

  Chapter 4

  Noctis’s shop was far from the neon lights and glam of the shopping arcade.

  He had opened his shop in a sparsely populated area. He’d blocked up the back end of a service tunnel, turned the rear of the space into a small apartment, and opened up his business in the tunnel mouth.

  I pushed aside the drape that covered the entrance and called out his name as we entered.

  The interior was dark, the whole area packed with unlabeled crates, stacks of novelty goods, and wrapped bundles. A counter with a cash register was tucked near one of the curving walls, close to the back.

  “Good morning,” yawned the young woman who was manning the shop.

  “Hey -- Gloria,” I answered, scrambling a moment to remember her name. I had only seen her a handful of times and never got a chance to talk to her directly.

  I furtively looked around the shop, to make sure no one else was there. “Is your brother around?”

  Like Noctis, Gloria was a Hatuibawari. Instead of arms, she had large, leathery wings folded up against her side. I estimated she had a wingspan of at least six meters when fully extended. The end of each wing featured a multi-fingered, but stubby, taloned hand. Her nose was a cute shade of pink, flaring up slightly around the nostrils. A pair of sharp, pointed ears poked up above her brown hair.

  She called out, and a moment later Noctis emerged from the back of the room. His hair was sleep-tousled, and there were dark bags under his eyes.

  “Shoot, sorry, man,” I apologized. “I was hoping to catch you before you went to sleep.”

  “It’s fine,” he offered, scratching at his bare chest.

  Most bat-hybrids had a hard time finding clothes that would fit around their wings without restricting them while flying. Noctis was just wearing a pair of shorts while Gloria was dressed in a singlet that looked like a skimpy swimsuit.

  I did my best to keep from ogling her in front of her brother while Gnasher sniggered at my evident discomfort.

  “Locke, long time no see,” he gave me a quick handshake, then I introduced Gnasher.

  “Yeah, sorry I haven’t stopped by,” I apologized.

  “It’s cool, I heard you finally got into the Delvers’ Guild,” he casually looked over at Gnasher. “And apparently you got a cute girlfriend as well.”

  “I came by to ask a favor,” I said, my voice dropping low.

  Scanning the shop one more time, I nodded to Gnasher. She placed her bag on the counter and carefully removed the gun.

  Noctis became all business from there, his posture shifting, and his tone becoming serious. He picked up the weapon and carefully inspected it. “Where did you get this?” he asked.

  I briefly explained our encounter with the bone pickers and our need to quickly trade away the firearm. Gloria peeked over her brother’s shoulders and gave us an admiring look when I mentioned beating up the would-be looters.

  Noctis put the gun back down, clearly thinking. “I can buy it off you,” he said, after considering. “Do you have the ammunition as well?"

  Gnasher presented him the clip, and he ejected and counted the number of rounds left.

  “Four hundred credits,” he offered, “for the whole thing.”

  Gnasher gasped, and I felt myself go flush for a second.

  Four hundred was more than we had earned for any of our previous finds. We could afford a year’s worth of hot showers with that.

  “Four fifty,” I countered. Even with an amazing offer like that, I had to haggle. It was how things worked in El Finito.

  Noctis gave me a hard, appraising stare. “Four fifteen, final offer. With anyone else, they’d only offer you a fraction of the price. Worse, they might backstab you and turn you over to the State.”

  “Deal."

  We shook over the agreement, and he swiftly picked up the gun and disappeared into the back of the shop. I felt a wave of relief as the gun disappeared out of view.