Pie Box 1

by George Saoulidis

  Hector snorted at that. “Sure, Pickle. I’d love to. Let’s do this.” He smiled at her.

  He knelt before her and wrapped her greaves around her tibias.

  Then he stood up and got the breast padding. She was waiting, arms up. He tied it secure around her torso’s exoskeleton, making sure it wouldn’t interfere with her movements. He stepped behind her and tied the ends of the straps so that they were out of the way.

  He picked up the sword. It was supposed to be non-lethal but Hector could feel the heft of it. He clipped it into her belt.

  Then, with a flourish, he spun the shield around in both his palms. “Your new shield, warrior maiden.” She chuckled at that. He tied it around her shoulder on her back, making sure she could reach it.

  Then he picked up her helmet. Hector looked around, none of the Pinups wore one, instead, going for straw hats and bandannas. Concussion-central. They stared at them, whispering amongst themselves. Didn’t matter, they weren’t his problem. His athlete was Patty. He didn’t care for others.

  She lowered her chin and he put on her helmet, pushing back the short strands of hair.

  He rapped on her helmet with his knuckles.

  He inspected her one last time. “Ready,” he said proudly.

  DROP FIFTY-TWO

  Patty had a gnawing suspicion that the entire team was trying to kill her.

  Her suspicion evaporated quickly, and became a certainty.

  Three enforcers ignored the qwik carrying the skull, and focused their attacks on Patty and Patty alone.

  She blocked with her new shield, parried a few attacks, and could have handled it somehow if she knew that, given time, her team would come to her aid.

  The Pinups thrashed around like the idiots they were.

  Patty got hit, then pinned, then the real blows came.

  The commentator said something. She couldn’t hear anything, her ear bled pink. Her vision became fuzzy. Was it an issue with her new cybereye?

  No, Patty, that’s what happens when three decked-out athletes bonk your head repeatedly.

  When they scored, she stumbled back to the starting line. Her helmet sat funny. She touched it. It was cracked.

  How the fuck do you crack a helmet with nothing but training equipment?

  The drum beat. Her ear bled. The Beasties attempted to kill her.

  This time, she drew them far away to the other side of the field, managing to isolate one of the three and hit her first. The next Beastie got a mouthful of shield bash, and Patty felt nice to see a shower of pink blood in the air. “I’m doing you a favour! Now you can swap them out with canines, freak,” she taunted.

  Then Echidna stepped forward and struck her in the leg. A crack. Then she came close, grappled her shield away and held her high in the air.

  “What the fuck, how strong are you?” Patty felt bile coming up and dripping down the side of her mouth. The crowd screamed at the top of their lungs.

  Then Echidna slapped her helmet away. She pulled her close, all Patty could see now were the yellow chasms of Echidna’s eyes.

  She snarled, “I deliver on my promises,” and ripped Patty’s cyberarm clean out of her socket.

  Pink blood sprayed thick on the Pinup Girl next to her, and she screamed in horror.

  The crowd went wild.

  DROP FIFTY-THREE

  Hector was going crazy with worry. The Doc came and went, then came and went again. He assured him that he had fixed the damage and the surrounding tissue was healing nicely.

  The Doc’s words made him relax, just a bit. A tiny smidge.

  He took care of her, letting her rest on her bed. Changed her IV, the usual. It was becoming a habit of theirs.

  But the Doc said she’d be up by the next day, and that he should let her rest, and that he should sleep as well.

  Yeah, yeah, right.

  Hector went to the only place he could actually relax in, his workshop.

  He picked up her gear. It was ruined, torn, splattered with blood. Reddish brown, since there was no tomfoolery present in this room to change its colour.

  Armadillo sat on the workbench. “It’s crap! Who made this shit? It’s complete and utter crap!” he yelled and pushed the entire collection with a sweep of his arm, sending it all tumbling on the floor.

  Armadillo twirled its front legs around.

  “I know, why would you care? You’re the perfect fusion of armour and body...” he trailed off.

  He slapped his forehead. “I’m such an idiot!”

  He picked up Armadillo in his arms and studied it, scratching its belly. It wiggled its legs as he poked and prodded at it. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Yeah, that will work...”

  DROP FIFTY-FOUR

  Hector slammed the doors open of the Laimargia restaurant. The head waiter came to him, and got a nice shove to the side. “Get out of my way, penguin.”

  He sat across Hondros, who was there with Mamacita and another cyberpink girl.

  He was eating baked potatoes. An entire crop’s worth of them, it seemed.

  “You eat at the same place every day? No wonder it’s so easy to put a hit out on you!” Hector said, pushing a potato away from him. It had rolled at the empty side of the table.

  “Hector, my friend!” The penguin waiter approached them, Hondros nodded and waved that everything was fine. “Dramatic entrance aside, what can I do for you? Hungry, perhaps?”

  “Definitely not. What I want is to know if you had anything to do with Patty getting hurt yesterday.”

  “Hector,” he complained with an exaggerated whine. “Why would I ever do such a thing to you? I owe you my life, after all. You need to look elsewhere.”

  “I know what you’re doing, Yianni. I know you’re inciting situations to get athletes hurt, so you can step in.” Hector sliced the air with his palm, spitting the words out with rage.

  The fat man shrugged innocently. “Accidents happen. It’s a very dangerous sport. How is... um?”

  “Patty Roo,” added Mamacita. The other girl was pretty much a decoration, scrolling on her phone and looking pretty.

  “Yes! How is she, by the way?”

  “She’s was in the hospital, in surgery for hours. Then they sent her home under the care of my mechdoc. It looked much worse than it was. Thankfully most of the damage was on the augmentation.”

  “Glad to hear. Mamacita dear, remind me to send her some flowers and a nice card wishing her a perfect recovery.”

  “Yes, master,” she purred.

  Even without her acknowledgement being directed at him, Hector felt a tingle in his loins. “Thank you, Yianni. But I-”

  “Excuse me, I’m feeling kinda full,” the fat man said and wiped his mouth off with a napkin. He stood up and went towards the back.

  “What the-? Does he always shoot off like that?” Hector asked Mamacita.

  She looked disgusted. “Yes...” she drolled. “This is a purge restaurant.”

  “A what now?”

  “People come here to gorge themselves full and then they purge in the bathrooms. They all have an augmentation lining that protects their digestive tract and the inside of the mouth from the stomach acids, leaving them free to purge all they want.”

  “They what?” Hector squinted. He looked around. Now the setting made sense. People of all sizes, not just enormous ones like Yianni, ate till they were full and then went and barfed the entire thing in the toilet. Then they ordered another meal. Potatoes, chicken, fish sticks, ice cream, all in enormous quantities. You could see people holding their bellies, forcing themselves to gulp the whole thing down.

  Sick.

  Hector stood up and went to the bathroom. He found Yianni, he wasn’t that hard to find. He was huge and was retching loudly. Hector braced for the smell and felt thankful he hadn’t eaten anything. The aroma inside the bathroom was overpowering, mint and flowers.

  Yianni barfed out chunks of potato.

  Hector could see them barely chewed down. He retched again.<
br />
  Yianni emptied his stomach in a practised purge and then gurgled some mouthwash.

  Laimargia restaurant.

  Gluttony.

  Hector saw another man casually doing the same and cleaning up, then strolling off for his next round of eating.

  He went to barf too, but nothing came out.

  Yianni laughed next to him. He gave him a scented towel. “I see that you’re living the owner’s life to the fullest. Parties, connections. Girls. I was right about you. You’re gonna become a big name in this business.”

  Hector said nothing, simply spat the taste out of his mouth and drank some water.

  Yianni shrugged. “Or, die senselessly from all your do-gooder attitude.”

  “Is that a threat?” Hector said through clenched teeth.

  “Goodness, no! I’m just calling it how it is. After all, you saw what happened the other day, just a few metres from this spot.”

  “You do know this is wrong, right? Purging?”

  “What can I say? I have an eating disorder. I go to a therapist and all that?” Yianni grinned, not seeming repentant at all.

  Fine. Hector didn’t care. Not his job, after all. “Will you accept a limited-time contract for Mamacita?”

  Yianni sucked air through his teeth. “Sorry, she’s booked with Nicomedes for now. I have a lovely girl I can give you right now, the one back at my table-”

  Hector raised a hand and cut him off. “Tell me what happened to Cherry. We’re alone in here.”

  “Cherry? Oh, she’s fine,” Yianni waved away with his chubby hand. “She’s getting ready for an owner’s party down at the Pinup Girls, for tomorrow night. She’s having fun!” he squinted joyfully.

  “Okay...” Hector didn’t really believe him but he had no other choice. “And she’s not on drugs?”

  “That cute little thing? I’d never do that to her!”

  “Riiight,” Hector grunted. He washed his hands again, feeling dirty. “Enjoy the next course,” Hector said flatly and walked out of that wretched place.

  DROP FIFTY-FIVE

  Patty appeared at the door, holding herself upright by her good arm.

  She looked pale and tired, not her usual strong self.

  Hector ran up to her, “Hey, let me help you.”

  She slapped his hand away. “I’m fine,” she grumbled. “I’m hungry.”

  Hector smiled and presented the kitchen. “Pickles and cheese?”

  “Totally. I gotta go to the bathroom first.”

  “If you need help, just call out to me. Don’t be a proud fool like you normally are.”

  “Screw you,” she mumbled and dragged herself to the bathroom.

  They had a long meal. Patty ate with her left hand so it took some time. Thankfully, Hector had the foresight to turn the meal into bite-sized snacks, smoked turkey and cheese and pickle rolls, so she could just grab a bite by herself.

  “You’re a tough woman,” he said honestly.

  “Sure. But she was tougher.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Hector, I... I’ll be out for a month, maybe two. I’m gonna miss the entire tournament. I can’t earn money.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Sure it matters, I-”

  He threw his fork and it clattered on the plate. “Pickle! Really, it doesn’t matter. Yes, I’m broke again. Yes, it would be lovely if you could play your matches and get paid. But you’re not able to, so the best thing to do is to focus on your recovery.”

  Her lips looked bitter. “Hector, I’m so sor-”

  “Pickle! Want me to make it an order? Fine, as your owner and with the authority I have over your well-being, I order you to kick back, relax, and get better.”

  She attempted to cross her arms. Being unable to, she simply scoffed expertly to the side. “Fine. Just so you know, you can’t order someone to relax.”

  “Sure I can. I just did,” he said, grabbing a pickle roll, chewing on it, then spitting it back out with disgust.

  DROP FIFTY-SIX

  “I didn’t think I’d cry like this,” Patty sniffled.

  Hector patted her on the shoulder, his mouth a line.

  “I-He was just another scumbag, basically. He-He...” She burst into tears.

  Hector hugged her. “I know, it’s okay.”

  They were both dressed in black. The botanic garden next to Syntagma square was beautiful. Dripping with life, there were greens in all hues, colours from all the flowers, tweets from all the birds that flew lazily above them. A splash of colour and fresh air in the murky browns of the smog city.

  It was paradise.

  Demeter’s followers lowered Diego’s body in the ground. No casket. Just covered in a plain biodegradable shroud, in full contact with the earth. They wore earth colours and chanted in a melodic choir that resembled the birds and the animals and the trees.

  It had taken far too long for the paperwork to finish up with a junkie that died on the side of the road, so here they were, months later.

  Demeter’s website said that refrigeration is the greenest way to preserve one’s body, as it adds no chemicals to the ground. And they were all about eco-friendliness.

  Hector held Patty. They watched the entire burial ceremony in silence. She whimpered softly and he could feel her body, her caught breath. The ceremony after a while was coming to a close.

  The followers waited for them to do something. Patty picked up a handful of earth and threw it on Diego. Hector did the same. There were no others attending.

  Demeter’s followers pushed handfuls of earth into the grave and chanted. The head follower held a white container above her head. It looked like a paper bucket, one you’d purchase ice cream in. It looked sleek with leaves designed on it. She mumbled something to the goddess and then lowered it over Diego’s chest. Then they pushed the rest of the dirt, covering up the hole.

  The priestess offered a pitcher to Patty, and told her to water the seeds.

  She did so.

  The priestess gestured slowly, getting out of her trance. “And thus, a tree will spring forth from the ground and reach up to the sky, and then the cycle is complete.”

  DROP FIFTY-SEVEN

  Hector got her back on the bed. She complained, but lied down anyway.

  His phone rang, and he walked out of the room to let her rest. “Hey, George!”

  “Hello.”

  “How’s the fit?”

  “Oh, it’s perfect. You know, you should consider doing this for a living!”

  Hector laughed. “Right. I’ll think about it. What’s up?”

  “I got you an invite for tonight’s party. It’s over at the Pinup Girls. Since you’re new and wanna make connections and all, you wouldn’t wanna miss that one.”

  “George, are you asking me out?” Hector teased.

  “Gods no, my fiancée would kill me. I’m running security and we usually get a couple of invites to pass around to friends with discretion. Thought you could use the face time with the other owners. Plus, It’s a hell of a party, always is.”

  “Sounds good. And I got a whole, what? Six hours to get ready.”

  George snorted. “Want the invite or not? I got a buddy who’d grovel at my feet for it.”

  “Hmm... Nicomedes doesn’t like me very much, but I’d love to just show up and rub it in his face. Sure, I’m in.”

  “Nice. Dress sharp and come sober.” George clicked off.

  Patty asked wearily from inside the room. “What party?”

  “Hey, Pickle, you know I’d bring you along to see Cherry but your stitches are bleeding again-”

  She waved the comment off. “No, I don’t care about that. I’m asking, what kind of party?”

  “An owner’s party. Why?”

  Patty went pale. “Hector! We need to get Cherry out of there.” She stood up and winced at the pain.

  “But, why?”

  “Because,” she gulped and grabbed his collar, “a girl usually dies in those p
arties.”

  DROP FIFTY-EIGHT

  “Is he coming?” Patty asked, anxious. She couldn’t believe she was actually begging for the icky hacker to join them.

  Hector snorted. “Of course he’s coming. He’s running towards here as we speak, if I know the man. A party full of Pinup Girls? He wouldn’t miss it if you had a gun on his head.”

  She bit her lip and waited. She was ready, pacing up and down on the apartment. Hector had gotten a suit from a last-minute rental service and he looked good in it.

  She was lost in thought, worrying.

  He got ready and didn’t meet her eyes as he said, “You know, at some point you’re gonna need to tell me a few things.”

  “Like what?” Patty perked up.

  “Nicomedes offered me 80k for you the first time I met him. Now, I know you’re not worth that much. You are to me, you kinda grew on me. But from a business standpoint, let’s face it. It sounds like a lot.”

  Patty turned away, looking out at into the night.

  He carried on, his voice sounding concerned. “So, that makes me think there’s something more to it, something I don’t know.”

  She was about to apologise, but he stepped close and put a hand up. “You have your secrets. I get it. I’m only going to ask this though: Does it have anything to do with what we’re about to do?”

  Patty met his eyes. Why did he have to have such kind eyes? She mulled it over, and he waited patiently, straightening and putting on his jacket. “No, it does not,” she finally said.

  “I’m trusting you here,” he said, leaning his forehead towards her.

  “I know. You’re right, there is something you don’t know, and I don’t know if I’ll feel like telling you someday, but it doesn’t have to do with tonight,” she said firmly.

  He looked deep into her eyes. Then he simply said, “Okay,” and went downstairs for the garage.