Pie Box 1
Page 11
He looked up. “Oh, nice. Yes, that’s a standard cyberpink shield, just bought it online.” He snatched a bite.
“And what are you doing with it?” she crossed her arms and leaned on his work bench. She was wearing the eyepatch, her eye was fritzing out again.
“I’m studying it, for now. There’s lots of room for improvement. I downloaded the rules and specs for the dimensions and materials that can be used in their construction, and I think I can push them a bit further.”
She clicked her tongue. “So, you’re making me a shield.”
“Well, yeah.” He ate more fruit. Imported oranges, very nice and juicy. They made a mess so she brought him napkins too. “You said it makes the most sense from a tactical position, so you need the best gear.”
“The coach won’t let me use it. It brings down the sexy in the Pinups. Not that there’s anything sexy in losing all the time or getting knocked out,” she grumbled.
“Actually, I went through your contract with the ‘dumb-it-down-for-me’ AI. It’s wondrous, I have no clue how I survived without one all my life. Anyway, there’s a clause where I can demand maximum protection for my athlete from the team. And I can call up on the opinion of an expert in cases where it’s fuzzy. And guess what? I’m an expert. Yay! So I sent an email to Nicomedes and demanded that your next match is with sword and shield.”
Patty snorted. “He’ll throw a hissy fit over this.”
“It’s within my rights, and I see it as an obligation,” he said simply.
Patty bore holes into the man’s back. Could he really be that simple to figure out?
Could she really have been so lucky?
He raised the shield proudly. “I’ll name it, the lid.”
“Stop naming things. You suck at it.” She made sure to sound angry, but she couldn’t wipe a smirk off her face. “Let’s talk finances.”
“Riiight,” he sighed, putting the shield town. “Let’s see, I paid the rest of 6k to Canvas, but he paid me 12k out of his own money, so we’re 6k in profit. We got 11k from your magnificent victory down at the Underground, so that’s a total of 17k. Doc is coming over tomorrow, and we have to pay the man for his services, so that’s 3k gone. Down to 14k. Here’s 500 I took out of your allowance, plus 500 I wanted to give you anyway, so that leaves me with 13k. I-”
Patty shook her head and raised her palm at him. “Wait. Back up a second. Allowance?”
“Yes.”
“What allowance?”
Hector shrugged, “I don’t know, spending money, clothes, taxi, makeup. Women stuff.”
“I’ve never had an allowance before.” She thought of something and tensed up. “What do you want from me in exchange?
“Nothing.”
“Will it be no-strings-attached?”
“Unless you wanna buy strings with it,” he joked. “Seriously, why is it so weird? Yes, allowance, do whatever you want with it. Spend it, save it, drink it, whatever,” he waved away.
Patty’s eyes widened, even though she could see only through the one. He was serious. Her breath caught.
“Can I go on? Thank you. So, materials are expensive for Canvas’ armours but, hah, I will not skimp on those, so 4k is already off to my supplier. That leaves me with 9k, not counting the bills. Nine measly thousand with which to offer to buy one of the most coveted athletes out there, who’s raking in 14k by herself every month.” He pointed at somewhere out there, looking annoyed.
“I still don’t trust her. But if she said she’d have something lined up to make the offer acceptable, I think she will.” For a second, Patty thought about leaning down and eating some fruit seductively, like Mamacita would have. Parting her lips, juices running down her throat, men hanging by her every word.
Why the hell not?
She leaned down and held a strawberry with her teeth, wrapping her lips around it.
Is this how women looked seductive? She was doing it, right?
“What the hell are you doing?” Hector asked her, looking sideways.
“Nothing!” She straightened up and looked away, chewing on the strawberry.
Actually, she was giddy about using up her allowance! Nope, she composed herself. She’d save some for a rainy day. Half. Half felt about right. But she’d splurge with the rest, as much as possible. Athens was an expensive city.
She could buy all the pickles she wanted!
“You’re very good at giving advice. I’d be a fool not to ask for your opinion, Pickle. Tell me if it’s the wrong move. I’ve already got one owner angry at me.”
“You have. And I’m telling you, he won’t forget what you did. And I still have to uphold my contract with the fucker.”
“Don’t worry, it’s just one more match. You can handle it, I have faith in you.”
“I still can’t get a hold of Cherry. I’m worried.”
“I’ll ask him tomorrow. Now, back to my question. Won’t Hondros be insulted by such a trivial offer?”
“Perhaps. But again, we’re betting on Mamacita to have the deck stacked in our favour already. It’s her wide ass on the line.”
Hector raised his eyebrows. “Wide, eh?”
“Wide,” Patty nodded.
“I hadn’t noticed,” he said indifferently.
She snorted. “Sure you haven’t. Eat your fruit.”
DROP FORTY-EIGHT
Hector had dressed up this time. The Laimargia restaurant was still full of fancy cars, but he couldn’t do anything about his wheels right now. So he settled for being presentable himself, wearing the one and only suit he owned.
He still wore a ballistic undersuit, though. He wasn’t crazy.
He walked up to the head waiter, or whatever the fuck his title was, and said, “Mr Hondros is waiting for me, name is Troy.”
The stuck up man checked the system and saw that it was true. Smiling wide, a smile Hector was certain was practised down to perfection, he said, “Follow me, sir.”
He didn’t need a guide, you could locate Hondros in any restaurant. You just followed the munching sounds. Next to him, radiant as ever was Mamacita. She raised her heavy eyelids at him but didn’t betray any other emotion from their encounter.
“Hello again.”
“My friend, Hector, sit, please. Eat. What can I get you, the meat here is delicious.”
Thinking on his bank account, Hector didn’t want to get anything, even if it was paid. It was no good getting used to riches. That’s what dad always said. “Nothing, thanks. Perhaps some ouzo.”
“Ah, yes! Ouzo for three, please. And a selection of seafood to help it down? Thanks.”
“And hello again, miss Lopez. You are always welcome to brighten up my negotiations.”
“What can I say?” she said huskily. “Powerful men turn me on.”
Hector felt his crotch respond to that. He repositioned himself and coughed. “Yianni, my friend, may we get straight to the point? I know you’re a busy man.”
They served his selection of fishfood just then. That’s why the fat man must have liked it here, the service was lightning fast. At least for him.
“Mmm, tasty. And some ouzo. Delightful! Now, tell me, Hector, what was it that you wanted?”
Hector hesitated for a second and glanced at Mamacita for the go-ahead.
She seductively blinked at him, which was just her normal facial expression.
Hector opened his mouth. Then the table erupted.
Gunshots cracked from semi-automatics, bullets ripped the tablecloth and the wood. He fell down and covered his face. The restaurant patrons screamed and ran for their lives. The staff cowered in fear.
A man walked in, wearing urban gear, looking like a mercenary. He was holding an Ingram MAC-11 in his hand, reloading it. It was a boxy, small SMG that could unleash hell in an instant. “Hondros, you fat fuck,” he said and pointed it at the man.
Hector didn’t think, he just reacted. He fell on top of the fat excuse for a person and covered his head. He got hit with
at least half a clip from point-blank-range. His back hurt like a motherfucker. He glimpsed behind.
The mercenary grunted and went to reload with another clip from his belt.
That gave Mamacita enough time to close the distance and grab him with her cyberarm. There was an audible crunch as she spun the man’s arm around his back and chocked him with no hesitation.
Hector stood up. “OWWW!” he complained loudly, his entire back a mess. He fell down again, rolling next to Hondros.
The pudgy man grabbed him by the neck, there on the floor. “You saved my life! My friend, my good friend. How can I ever repay you?” He was spitting out chunks of food as he spoke.
Hector got him once again by a sledgehammer, this time a metaphorical one. He turned to Mamacita. She looked satisfied.
The authorities came and bagged the mercenary. They got statement logs from everyone’s veil. The head waiter looked terribly annoyed by the pause in business. It was as if was a minor inconvenience and he wanted everyone out so he could continue to serve customers.
Hondros looked happy to make the head waiter happy, eating his adrenaline down.
Hector sat to the side because his bruises were killing him. “I’ll be completely honest with you, Yianni.”
Mamacita’s posture changed imperceptibly.
Hector would never had seen it if he wasn’t looking for her reaction.
“Please, do. Honesty is a good thing,” Hondros said, munching on a turkey’s leg.
“I came to this meeting, with an offer for Mamacita’s contract.”
Hondros simply stared. His mouth open and full of food, he said, “Of course. If the price is right.”
Mamacita interjected, touching at owner. “Surely, you could be a little generous to the man who just saved your life, my cutie bear,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes with a wry smile.
“Yeah, but... You’re my highest earner. It has to be a damn good offer to even consider it, darling.”
Hector decided to be done with it. “Nine thousand, that’s the offer. Cash and immediate transfer of ownership.”
Hondros laughed and choked on his turkey. He coughed a few times, then looked back up. “You’re serious?” he said incredulous, spitting out food.
“That’s the offer, yes.”
He leaned back and seemed to thing about it. He looked from Mamacita to Hector and back.
Hector knew that from a financial standpoint, it didn’t make sense. He could just wait for the next month and get even more out of her. And he didn’t seem like he needed the money right now. Hector felt a bit silly for doing this.
“You’re killing me, man,” Hondros complained.
Hector stared silently. He knew that a good part of a negotiation was to make an offer and then shut the fuck up.
“I can give you Cherry, you liked her last time, I think, yeah? She’s nice and hot, a cute little thing.”
Hector bit his lip. He didn’t wanna speak, or he would ask why then he’d sent a cute little thing to suck dick for a better deal. Impassively, he had to admit these paramone contracts were a godsend for disgusting people. You paid money, bought one, had her earn more money, then whored her off to make some on the side, and you could have her suck dick to negotiate her own contract terms. If he hadn’t been so furious he’d admire the overkill of how lucrative they were. But he was furious, adrenaline still pumping in his veins. He finally decided he had nothing to lose. He scratched at the bullet holes in his suit, his only one he might add, and said, “Need I remind you that these holes should be on your clothes?”
He leaned forward and pressed on. “On your skin?”
Hondros’ lower lip quivered. “You’re killing me. There has to be something else you want, something-”
Hector crossed his arms.
“I’m sorry, my friend, but no,” Hondros said, throwing a napkin on the table. “Come to me with something reasonable and I’ll be more than happy to oblige.”
DROP FORTY-NINE
“Whoa, that’s a lot of pickles,” Hector said, coming in.
Patty hugged a jar tight, and said, “Mine.” A bit too over-the-top acting.
Hector laughed. “As if I would ever steal them.”
They had cleared out the 1st-floor study room and brought in a bed.
“Sorry for the second-hand furniture, but that’s it for now. We’ll see about getting something nicer in the future. My main concern is to sleep on my bed and for my back to stop killing me.” He held his arms high on the door frame and stretched his back.
Patty bounced on the bed, smiling. “It’s perfect,” she breathed in.
“Glad to hear. Make a list of other things you might need and I’ll go through it, see what we can do.”
“I could do with some curtains?” she said, scrunching her upper lip.
“Curtains?” Hector looked around. This side was indeed kinda bright. “Uh, okay. Make an order online and have them sent next month. It’ll come out of the next paycheck.”
She seemed pleased at that.
Hector clapped his hands together. “Well, this is starting to feel comfy, for all of us. You, me, Armadillo. Unfortunately, there’s only the one bathroom upstairs, but I’ll try to use the downstairs bathroom more.”
She lowered her head. “I’ll try not to interfere with your schedule from now on, Hector.”
“No, that’s fine! We have it, so I’ll just use it. I spend my life on the street level anyways.”
DROP FIFTY
Patty felt weird, having someone attach her nerves together. The Doc leaned over her head. There was a bright light in her face.
She winced at the pain.
“Doc, why is this done without anaesthesia?” Hector asked from somewhere outside of the pop-up operating room.
“Because, my dear Hector, it’s delicate work and I need her to tell me if everything looks right. We wouldn’t want to go through the entire operation, close her up and then find out that half her corneas aren’t properly connected, would we?” the Mechdoc said with his deep voice.
“Sorry, carry on.” Hector said and went silent. She could still hear him pacing up and down.
“Hector, I’m fine. Doc, tell me what you need from me,” she said.
“Look straight up please.” He held a tablet at a reading distance, with a picture of shapes.
“How many dots?”
“Nine.”
The picture changed.
“What colour is the cat?”
“Red.”
“Hmm.” He adjusted something. It didn’t hurt, it was just a tug inside her face. Felt like the room suddenly went darker, though.
“What about now?”
“Orange.”
The picture changed.
“Tell me which line is bigger.”
“The lower one.”
The picture changed.
“Tell me please, how many lions are in this picture.”
“Three, four... Six.”
“Good.”
The picture changed.
“Read the time for me, please.”
“10:25.”
The picture changed.
“Which of the two buildings is closer?”
“The one on the right.”
“Good.”
He adjusted something, tugging on her optical nerve. Balls of light swam in her field of view.
The picture changed, this time it was a moving ball, bouncing around the edges of the tablet.
“Follow the ball with your finger, please.”
She followed the ball.
The Doc adjusted something. She kept tracing the ball, and he adjusted something again. He tapped something on his autosurgeon and Patty could smell meat cooking.
Oh, her stomach rumbled.
Nope, the autosurgeon was firing a laser at the side of her face and the flesh that was getting cooked was her own.
Still hungry. Could do with a pickle.
“All done here, you were a lov
ely patient my dear. Always a pleasure fixing you up.” He patted her on the shoulder.
She stood up, adjusting. Looking around, she felt fine.
The Doc gathered up his equipment, blasting them with UV inside a small device like a microwave and placing them in specific pouches on his robot mule. He pulled the plastic sheets down with the help of Hector, and they folded them neatly. They went through the whole disassembly quite fast, it was becoming a weekly thing. “Do everything as you’d normally do, just like exercising. Play with this ball, throw it around, it will help.” He threw a rubber ball at her.
She caught it and bounced it on the wall. She missed catching it and it went for Armadillo. It scurried away and turned into a ball itself, thinking it was under attack.
She apologised to the little critter. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Armadillo. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
DROP FIFTY-ONE
“Cherry didn’t show,” Patty said, breathing out. “Now I’m worried.”
The locker room was buzzing with athletes getting ready. The Pinups were more form over function. Remembering on what the locker room down in the Underground match looked like, this was a direct contrast. The girls here dressed for style, wore no armour, covered up their bruises and cuts with makeup and clothing. “What about the match, do you have another qwik?”
Patty had her arms around her waist, frowning. “Yeah, Nicomedes can bring in one last-minute. It will cost him, but he won’t have a problem finding one. Hector, what if something happened to Cherry?”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll go find out. Focus on your game. Now, do you need anything from me before I go?”
Patty bit her lip.
“What? Come on, just tell me.”
She turned around. “It’s nothing, go.”
“Pickle. What is it, tell me?”
She looked away and scratched the edge of the shield he’d given her with her finger. “Could you, uh... I mean if you want to, uh, dress me up?” She pushed her hair out of her face and looked up at him, then down at her feet. “Like last time?” She quickly added, “For luck.”