Anja's Star (Outer Settlement Agency) (3 page)

“What’s wrong the one I have,” she asked, in a raspy voice.

“You need to ditch the lasers. If it’s their rainweek in the 38
^th
, it’ll be foggy in the morning. Lasers are basically intense light. The fog’s thick enough up here to deflect that light, or worse.”

“Worse?” Her voice still sounded like grinding gears.

“Light reflects in fog, if it’s dense enough.” He slid over the backup plasma gun. “Fire trumps light every time. If we’re going to be felonious fiends, we should at least be clever about it.”

“I really don’t want to be without it.”

“Trust me on this. I’m an officer, I know these sorts of things. Looks like we’re here.”

She gave them a landing as soft and easy as if she’d been piloting the thing for years. More talents his father had seen? Shame. She was too good for that life. Present activities excluded.

They docked, paid and headed straight into town. A head held high took them far in the previous sector, but wouldn’t pay the price of anyone’s entry in the 38
^th
Quadrant. This was one of the first cities built by the terraforming Meash Three, the Meash agency specializing in urban entertainment.

The well to dos were out in force and a brown tunic and mechanic’s jumpsuit did nothing for blending in. Even if it weren’t the hot season, he’d have expected to find expanses of human flesh barely covered. The 38
^th
thrived on titillation. The scents of food long made illegal, the gambling dens and prostitutes so beautiful and talented that they made years long contracts all contributed to this quadrant’s well earned reputation. It was the lunar hideaway for the wealthy of Titan who had too much money and too little sense.

Anja tugged on his arm. “Is that man naked?”

He yanked down her finger. “Don’t point and, no, there’s a string there. Somewhere.”

“That’s so sad.”

“Sad? He’ll make more in a month than we will in a year. At least me, anyway.” She nibbled the inside of her lip before becoming fascinated with the tops of her shoes. Had she done this? The thought of her under a man for pay brought with it an unexpected rage. And a sorrow. He was a modern man and understood the way of the worlds just fine, but not her? “If he chooses this life-”

“You can never know for sure. People don’t do that because they have a choice. Not usually. It starts with a problem that needs fixing. Or a bill that has to be paid. People always say that it’s different on this place or that and maybe he’s happy. But not all of them are. It’s all an act. They aren’t paid to be miserable. Heads up.”

By now they’d caught the attention of the man. He gave them a one over and sneered, laying his full eyes on a couple dripping in the glittering sashes of red and gold that passed for tunics in the 38
^th
Quadrant.

“Keep an eye out for a store.”

“Just one? There’s another one every two steps.”

“True, but we need one with the most obnoxious things we can find.”

Her snort brought a smile to his lips, but it was her gasp a few moments later, that told him they’d found the perfect row of shops.

Getting inside one proved a far more difficult trick. Two doors locked as they approached the threshold. The proprietor of the third merely laughed and presented his back. It’d taken a lot of pulling to keep Anja from giving him her concerns on the matter, but by the fourth place, they’d slipped in before any gates or twirling lights kicked them out.

“If you’ll be so kind as to take your filthy, poverty stricken selves back the way you came, I won’t be forced to call for assistance.”

“Before you say anything else, we were attacked. These were the only clothes we could find and I can’t tell the authorities as her husband might have questions on the matter of our acquaintance. We need clothes. Something befitting us, but not-”

“Boring,” Anja finished without a look in his direction.

It worked. The man nodded and waved his measuring wand around the outline of her body. He called out the numbers to someone in his headset and moved on to Retzi. Once again, the wand danced about in the air. This time, however, it was accompanied by ‘harrumphs’ of acknowledgement around certain parts of his anatomy. His set of numbers prompted two red faced ladies to pop out of a concealed door before disappearing once more.

“Can you believe it’s all hers and she isn’t sure she wants it anymore?”

“I’m used to something a little bigger,” Anja said separating her fingers and raising an eyebrow.

The man looked from Anja to him and back to her. “Well, there’s a shuttle down the street,” he said, before entering the now half-concealed door.

“You can stop looking so proud of yourself.”

“I can’t actually, no.”

“You are unbelievable,” she said hands on her hips.

“That’s what he just said.”

She burst with laughter at that, the reaction he’d been hoping to see. Second to her begging to see the goods herself, obviously. But really, anything was better than the look he’d seen on her face earlier in the day. He hadn’t been able to shake it. He’d been wanting to kill every man and woman who’d touched her with money in hand.

Touched her at all.

The sashaying shopkeeper returned, wares in hand. The ‘something sensible’ he’d asked for was a set of green tunic bottoms and an open tunic, both lined with gold and blue rings. “How does it close and where do I try this on?”

The man only laughed before turning to Anja. With her garment still over his shoulder, he grabbed hold of her jumpsuit with each side in hand and ripped it open.

“She never needs to be in this horrid thing again. And woman, do stop sneering before your hurt your face. Hurry up, first one leg then the other, unless you need a diagram.”

Her body glowed splotchy, red patches of embarrassment. He didn’t know why, she was perfect. An ass that deserved a good slapping, a waist perfect for holding on too, breasts full and bouncing and eyes...eyes...promising a drawn out, painful and inventive death. He whirled around so fast that he knocked against a display table sending jewels and hair sticks in every direction. He couldn’t turn around though, he could still feel her eyes boring a hole into the back of his head.

“Leave it you lout. I don’t want you touching my things. Hurry and change.”

He admitted to a small amount of disappointment that there hadn’t been gasps and faints as he stripped. But when he turned around to see what the holdup was, he had a few gasps of his own.

“Get her one in every color.” It sounded like his voice though he hadn’t remembered saying it. Her ‘something sensible’ was a floor length shift, belted tight around the waist, with a deep cut down the middle. How it managed to cover her breasts...he didn’t believe in magic, but he was looking at the proof of it. Nothing should have kept it there, a slight breeze and it was all over.

The fabric didn’t hide much to begin with. It was blue, lined with green rings, but nearly transparent, her areolas darkening blue to black.

“Are you finished staring? There’s no place to hide a weapon in this.”

He shook his head and then turned back to the owner. “I meant what I said, more colors. Two. Go.” The man clapped and pivoted on his heels, leaving them alone for the moment.

“You are spectacular.”

“This thing doesn’t close. It’s only the belt holding it together and did you see the price? All of that for a string of fabric.”

“It’s worth it.”

She blushed, smoothed out the garment and rotated her hips, sending the bottom of it twirling around her heels. “Maybe.”

“And what about me,” he said, doing his turn and bow. “You missed a good show over there.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s still a live feed.”

“A compliment? I’m buying everything this bastard has.” He pulled her towards a full length mirror holding on to her as tight as her belt.

“You flow into one another,” the man said behind them. And Retzi agreed. They did look good together.

“If Father kills us, it might be worth it by the end.”

“I don’t plan on that happening.” She paused to flap the hem of her garment with a flicking wrist. “But, if it does, I intend on dying in this.”

They paid and had their packages sent to the docks waiting for them under a false registration number they’d used upon landing. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her gathering her hair impossibly high, and with the help of the two giggling shop girls, stuffing the hand sized plasma gun into the center of her coif with the aid of a million, glittering hair pins.

“We look too good to keep this to ourselves. Can I entice you with a meal?”

Her stomached grumbled a response before her mouth could and they followed their noses to a posh establishment, billed as serving only the best of the 38
^th
Q.

After a stomach torturing long wait, a bare chested and short skirted hostess led them to a table near the front of the house. Terrible seats, but it put them near the loud mouthed nouveau-riche.

She avoided wine during her order and he did the same, though the thigh slapping, glass rattling ruckus from the next table threatened to have him call the server back.  The only thing keeping him stable was her.

“My face is up here.”

“And it is just as beautiful.”

“Don’t you ever stop?”

Retzi shook his head and leaned over the florescent candlestick. “I can go all night. Really, I can.”

“Well I’m glad you’re having such a good time. This outfit is ridiculous. And I don’t need any more suggestive remarks from you,” she added hurriedly. “I don’t like being on display.”

He removed to top portion of his tunic and rose, bringing it behind her. She handled it with more grace than he did, lifting her body in a long, sensuous motion, before sliding her arms into the fabric. Before he sat down, one of the young men from the loud group raised his glass in her direction. “Modesty. Haven’t seen that around here. Care to join us?”

“No, she doesn’t.”

But the thin teenager wouldn’t be dissuaded. “The invitation extended to you both. You’re new here, aren’t you? You have the look of the place, but not the manner. Please sit.”

Retzi declined again and returned to his seat. “How’s it looking behind me?”

Anja smiled and laughed into her glass of water, but the tone of her whispered words didn’t match her stress free face. “Not good. His look says he doesn’t get told ‘no’ very often.”

“Any chance of starting dinner?”

Anja giggled for their growing audience and drew circles on his arm. “He’s young, drinking and surrounded by peons. Don’t think for one moment that I won’t rip out every single pin in my hair and lay this kid out, if he tries to keep me from my food.”

They got halfway through before the fool started up again. Retzi smelled the liquor reeking off him long before Anja kicked his shin beneath the table.

“I was only trying to be polite. Do you know who I am?”

“A child?”

“Prio Grantly the Third,” he said, so close to Retzi’s face that the boy’s spittle landed on his cheek. “My father will hear of this.”

Retzi knuckled a napkin across his face. “Is throwing around your father’s name your usual way of settling things? How does that help you when someone doesn’t know or care who he is?”

Retzi ducked a rather halfassed left hook and stood to teach the kid how one was properly delivered, sending a appropriately satisfying spray of blood across the table.

Chairs scraped across the floor and he heard omnitablets shooting and dialing nonstop. His picture would be plastered all over the quadrant before his next swing.

“Back up.”

Retzi’s head swiveled left to right at Anja’s scream, to see her gun trained on one of Grantly’s approaching lackeys.

“We need to get out of here.”

“We’ll we’re not going alone.” Retzi hoisted the knocked out boy over his shoulder, grabbing Anja with his free hand.

“Are you insane? Grantly will kill us.”

“A very real possibility anyway. At least now we’ve got something in our corner.” 

By now, every omnitab in the room faced him. May as well use them to his benefit. “I imagine at  least half the people here are broadcasting this to you live. Good. If you want your boy back, be at the port in fifteen minutes with enough money to hold my hand.”

Anja’s tugging on his tunic had him back to shuffling heel over foot, toward the door. She flagged down a hire before most of the restaurant pealed out behind them and he tossed in his comatose load.  “My brother had too much to drink.  Port please. Fast.”

The driver gave all three of them a look over before easing off the brakes. “Looks like Grantly’s boy to me. You did that?”

Retzi shrugged. “Is this going to be a problem?”

“Hell no. He had it coming, whatever he did. That boy never pays for rides. This one’s on me, just keep my name out of it, ‘eh?”

“Well I don’t mind saying it—”

“I mind hearing it, but good on ya.”

The driver got them there at blazing speeds, dodging all sorts of vehicular and pedestrian traffic. He alternated between laughing at the laid out Prio and checking for headlights behind him. True to his word, he hadn’t asked for payment, but Anja refused to let him leave without getting his fare.

“Oh, Anja, you’re sweeter than you let on.”

“Said one kidnapper to the other.”

“Details. Your secret has been revealed.” Then the bundle across his shoulder started to wiggle and moan. Retzi flipped him over and delivered a silencing punch to his temple, before picking up where he left off. “I think you’re far kinder than you want to be. It’s alright to be nice every once in awhile.”

“You don’t know me well enough to say one way or the other,” she said, checking the charge on her blaster.

“I think I do, but let’s not argue.”  He paused to shift his bundle. “Beautiful night, you and me, under the stars.”

“And our guest, the half dead kid on your back.”

“Now you’re just exaggerating.”

“It is absolutely ridiculous that you think now’s a good time to flirt. You can’t be this way all the time.”

“True, but I’ve never had to be. Normal women give in at a wink and a tongue across the lip. You’re weird, but I persevere.” He rocked on his heels and lobbed his head back, resting it against the unaware warm pillow. “Gah, those twinkling lights. Can’t you find a single beautiful one among them?”