CHAPTER FIVE
Armaros, Techcropolis, Tesla University of Technical Arts, Block F, Student Residential Hall, Jayne’s Quarters
Jayne stepped out of the bathroom fresh from showering with her hair wrapped in the only towel. It was purple and soft and, most important of all, clean.
“Is that my towel?” her roommate asked from where she sat reading from her optic monitor on the bottom bunk. She’d obviously returned while Jayne had been cleaning up.
She jumped in surprise and instinctively covered herself.
Okay, so technically it wasn’t Jayne’s towel. It was her roommate’s. Yeah, that wasn’t cool, but she hadn’t had time to get her own stuff yet. And what was she supposed to do, drip water all over the place?
Jayne berated herself. She’d been taken by surprise and foolishly acted modest afterward. What if it hadn’t been her roommate waiting in her dorm but an enemy agent? The stupid shower had calmed her down and lowered her guard.
Gotta be better than that, she reminded herself.
She lowered her arms from her chest, then pulled the wet towel from her head and tossed it to her roommate. What did she care if this girl saw her naked?
“Thanks,” she said as the damp towel landed on her lap.
“Uh, yeah…no problem.” She scowled at the wet towel like it was infested with vermin.
“You want to go get some food?” Jayne asked, changing the subject. “I’ve got a hankering for tacos.” She slipped on a black mini-skirt and white tank top, what she thought of as her sexy co-ed outfit.
“Nah, I don’t like tacos.”
“Suit yourself.” This girl is nuts, she thought as she finished getting ready. Who doesn’t like tacos? They even offer fried avocado as a protein option. Better than the other protein choices, like funkles—cows raised on the surface, slaughtered, flash frozen, and sent to the stations. By the time they were scooped into tacos, they tasted like rancid crow.
She tied her wet hair up in a messy bun and shoved her feet into her boots. With her room key and purse in hand, she smacked her palm against the wall panel to release the lock.
Jayne strode down the hallway, absorbing all the information she could about the place and its people. It was time for some good old-fashioned spying. She ghosted past open and closed doors, gleaning what information she could. Most obvious of all was the unspoken code for all men and women her age.
Open doors meant, “Hey, come on in and hang out.”
Closed doors meant, “Fuck off.”
Closed doors with a sock on the handle meant, “Fuck on.”
A few guys drank beers in one room. That was technically against the rules, but she noticed the RA was one of them—definitely something to keep in mind for the future. In another room, some girls flirted with a boy with curly blond hair. Jayne had to admit, he was pretty cute. Other than that, there wasn’t much else going on, which left her time to think about the all-important tacos.
Unfortunately for her, she ran into an all too different cut of beef.
“Hallway’s closed. Go another way,” the crew-cut, blue-polo-wearing beefcake said. He raised his arm to block her path.
Jayne looked past the oaf and down the hallway. A lean, weaselly-looking guy with black hair jabbed his finger threateningly into the chest of another student with glasses. Standing off to the side and looking uncomfortable with the whole situation was a dork with a bad haircut. There was clearly some kind of dispute in progress.
“What’s going on over there?” she asked.
“It’s a personal matter. Now go around, toots.”
Jayne arched an eyebrow at the beefcake. “Toots? Really?”
The oaf shriveled, self-conscious now. “Just trying it on for size.”
“Oh, my God. Just stop talking. You’re trying too hard. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She ducked under his outstretched arm and continued down the hallway.
“Hey, I’m serious. You don’t want to get involved in that!” the boy shouted behind her.
Jayne flipped him the finger and he sighed in resignation before returning to his post. She approached the altercation calmly. After all, it wasn’t her problem. She merely needed to pass.
The weasel spoke in half-whispers as he threatened the kid with the glasses.
“We had a deal, motherfucker!” he spat, quite literally spraying flecks of moisture onto his victim’s glasses. “Now you say it’ll cost more money? Nuh-uh, Fred. That’s not gonna cut it, you hear me?”
Fred seemed visibly shaken, but he stood his ground, clenched his jaw, and looked defiantly at the aggressor. “There’s nothing I can do about it, Brandon,” he said. His voice quavered, but it didn’t break. “Selvanium went up in price last week when manufacturing it was made illegal. Now, all selvanium-based weapons cost more. If you had given me the money when I first asked, I could have gotten them, but—” He gasped as Brandon socked him in the stomach.
Well, enough of this, Jayne thought as she reached them. She slid her foot behind the bully’s leg and delivered a forearm shiver to his shoulder. He tripped over her and landed hard on the tile.
“What the fuck?” Brandon rolled onto his back and looked at his assailant.
“Sorry, boss. I tried to stop her,” the oaf shouted from down the hall. The other sycophant scrambled to help his friend up.
“Sorry,” Jayne said, adopting a snobby air. “I’m, like, in a really big hurry to get some tacos. I wasn’t even paying attention to where I was going. You really shouldn’t take up so much hallway space. It’s, like, rude.”
Brandon glared at her as he scrambled to his feet. “Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you?” He glanced at his co-conspirator. “And what the hell, Terrance? I said don’t let anyone by.”
“She slipped past me, boss,” Terrance boomed in response.
“No shit. Jesus, you’re an idiot.” Brandon turned to Jayne. For the first time, he seemed to actually take her in. His eyes lingered a moment on her cleavage before he straightened his collar and spoke in a calmer tone. “All right, look. Go get your tacos okay? And watch where you’re going in the future.”
She pointed at the guy with glasses. “Actually, this is my friend, and we’re getting tacos together. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Him?” Brandon exclaimed, a hint of jealousy in his tone. “You’re getting tacos with him?”
Jayne plastered a ditzy smile on her face. “Well, yeah. I just told you he’s my friend. Duh.”
The thug seemed ready to say something more but the other boy laid a restraining hand on his arm. “Let’s get out of here, Brandon. You said what needed to be said.” His gaze darted nervously to the other end of the hall. Students began to gather and Terrance could hardly hold them all back.
Brandon sent Fred one final glare and nodded to Jayne as he stomped off with his cronies. “I’ll see you around. Maybe you and I’ll be friends too and get some tacos.”
“Maybe.” She forced as much false enthusiasm into the word as she could.
Once they rounded the corner, Jayne turned her attention to Fred. His eyes were wide and his breathing audible. He was clearly still amped on adrenaline from his confrontation.
She dropped the ditz act. “You okay?” she asked as she snatched the glasses off his head. He stuttered in surprise. Glasses, why glasses? It’s not like anyone needs them these days. He must be a retro-style guy.
“Yeah, uh, fine. Just, you know, a misunderstanding,” Fred responded weakly.
Jayne lifted the bottom of her tank top and cleaned the lenses.
“About selvanium-based weapons?”
He blushed. Jayne couldn’t be sure whether it was from being called out about selling weapons or the fact she’d caught him checking out her toned abs. In all likelihood, it was probably both. At least he had the decency to blush and look away, even if he didn’t answer the question.
“Look. Right now, I don’t care what you were talking to them about. I was serious ab
out those tacos. I have a craving and nothing will stop me. You want to join? I don’t really know anyone here and I could use the company.”
“Uhh…” Fred uttered awkwardly as he considered the invitation. “I mean, I guess.”
“Look, you don’t have to go. It’s not like I’m asking you on a date.”
“No. No. I mean, yes. I want to go,” Fred said. A hint of a smile pulled at his lips. “I mean, who doesn’t love tacos?”
Jayne snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “You see, I knew there was a reason I liked you. Here.” She handed him his glasses and strode down the hallway toward the exit. Fred followed stiffly at her heels.
+++
Armaros, Theron Techcropolis, Tesla University of Technical Arts Campus Outskirts
Gleaming glass tubes towered into the sky and out of sight on the southern boundary of campus. The massive air purifiers labored to clear the smog around the campus and surrounding areas. Eventually, the fumes would be collected and disposed of in the vacuum of space. This provided breathable, healthy air for the school, something completely unheard of in the smog-laden ground levels of the enormous city.
Having a traditional, ground-based campus with clean air was one of the distinguishing traits of top-tier universities. Nobody wanted to study where they would have to wear a respirator every time they stepped outside. When the university installed the tubes seventeen years ago, they saw a dramatic increase in the number of visitors and enrollees, including some from prestigious families.
The presence of the glass tubes could always be felt. They were tinted emerald-green and refracted the light from the sun above, creating dazzling patterns on the buildings and grounds below.
They also indicated which way was south. Restaurant row bordered the north side of campus, so Jayne and Fred made sure to walk with the purifiers to their backs. A three-story wall of restaurants, fast food joints, and bars stretched for half a mile across the street from the university. The long line of façades seemed too uniform to be random and Jayne wondered if there was a zoning requirement. A staircase every few stores broke the monotony and provided access to the upper floors of the sit-down restaurants.
Jayne squinted and scanned the myriad of neon signs for a Taco Shack and spotted the familiar blue glow half a block down. It was crammed between a double-decker style pizza joint and a Lobster Shack. Of course, they technically served fake lobster, known as fobster. Lobster was one of the “Significant Seven” species that went extinct thousands of years ago. And still people loved eating it.
“There it is.” She pointed to the restaurant.
Fred’s gaze followed where she pointed and he groaned. “That place?”
Jayne scrunched her eyes as they crossed the street, wondering what he had against what she hoped would be her new favorite stomping ground. “What, you don’t like Taco Shack? Too good for it or something?”
“No, it’s fine,” he muttered and kept his head down as he followed her up one of the steel staircases to the second floor. Tightly packed crowds of people strained the balconies along the row of restaurants. Jayne and Fred pushed past the throngs of customers snacking and smoking cigarettes.
Jayne nodded, too distracted to explore Fred’s reticence. Her sharp eyes identified the distinct shape of the thug from the university. He walked calmly through the crowd with his two cronies and into a Galdarsh restaurant. It seemed the goon squad had a taste for high end alien cuisine.
+++
Armaros, Theron Techcropolis, Disgrunt’s Diner
The dark Galdarsh restaurant boasted bright, glowing booths of various colors. Each provided its own source of illumination. Terrance led the trio into the busy lobby, shoving people aside to create space as they walked through the orange haze. Supposedly, Galdarsh restaurants pumped atmosphere from their home planet, which had a slightly higher concentration of nitrogen, into their establishments. Terrance had been in there many times without keeling over or feeling lightheaded, which he brought up with the waiter every time they went in. “You guys really pump in your atmosphere? Because I’m not feeling any higher than I already am.” He’d laugh, and the gang would laugh with him.
“Hey!” A messy haired student protested as Terrance shoved him aside. The guy careened into his date and spilled both their glowing drinks on her white dress. “Watch where you’re going!”
“What makes you think I didn’t see where I was going?” Terrance chuckled. He flashed a mean grin as he walked past the couple and up to the server. He hoped the little turd had some spit in his spirit. A good fight always brightened the day. Plus, after that skinny little cooze slipped past him earlier, a good pummeling would cheer him up. Unfortunately, the guy was more concerned with making sure his girlfriend was okay than trying to get even. Terrance instinctively kissed the gold skull ring on his right hand – a nervous tic whenever he couldn’t indulge the urge of a fight.
“Three,” Terrance said a bit too loudly to the Galdarsh hostess. The exceedingly pale girl nodded, grabbed some menus, and led them to the back of the restaurant. He liked Galdarsh girls and dated one in high school, but she broke up with him when he asked her to get a spray tan.
She seated them in a booth near the back of the restaurant. Terrance took a seat and Jonah slid in beside him. The pair barely fit into the booth and Brandon sat opposite them. Brandon let Terrance walk around like he was in charge. It kept Terrance busy – which was good, because nothing is more dangerous than a bored moron. But it also kept the heat off himself. But here in the safety of a dark restaurant, Brandon could hold court. As soon as court came to order.
“How come Jonah can’t ever sit next to you?” Terrance whined. His shoulders hunched as he tried to take up the smallest space possible. Despite his best efforts, half of Jonah’s right glute hovered over empty air. It was an uncomfortable fit for them both.
Brandon spread his legs mockingly. “Because I pay for the food, I pay for our drinks, I pay for our rent, and I pay for our highly illegal weapons. The least I can get in recompense is a little leg room. But, if you would like to start picking up the bills I’d be more than happy to switch seats with you.”
Terrance squinted, confused. “Well, sure. I’d like to. But boss, I can’t afford that. I get all my money from you.”
Brandon rubbed his eyes with his palms and groaned. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”
Jonah laughed. “Tell me about it.”
He glared at Jonah. “Watch it, chuckles. I don’t like what you’re implying. And you—” Brandon shifted his gaze to Terrance. “What the hell’s wrong with you? You don’t let a girl walk past you because she’s pretty. We were in the middle of important business negotiations and you let her mess everything up.”
Terrance’s eyes widened. His deep voice warbled slightly as he spoke. “I didn’t let her get past me on purpose, boss. She slipped right under my arm. She must be like a dancer or a gymnast or one of those people at circuses, you know? Who fit into boxes and then they’re all bent up, but then the main guy opens the box, you know? And the lady unbends. What do you call those?”
Jonah snapped his fingers. “A cartoonist!” He beamed like he won the million-dollar question.
Brandon could only sigh. “In a way, it’s my fault. I ought to know your severe limitations. It’s no wonder you flunked school.”
Silence descended and Terrance looked down in shame. Jonah glanced at his downtrodden comrade and sighed.
“You flunked out too, genius,” he said.
Brandon’s face scrunched into a scowl. “I only failed because somebody got us caught cheating. If you didn’t wait until the last minute to write our papers, maybe you could have written two separate ones instead of having us turn in identical papers. You fucked my future.” He rose to his feet, his body leaning halfway across the booth as he berated his companion.
“Well, I wish I could take full credit for that. But see, here’s the thing. You came to me the day the papers were due and threate
ned me into writing yours.” Jonah chuckled. “Classic Brandon. But if you recall, I told you there wasn’t enough time. You said to find a way and stormed off. Now, despite the slim time margin, I might have found a way to write an eight-page research paper in two hours. But at that moment, I was on my way to a lunch date with Kacey Foster, and well…” He raised his hands up in front of him like a scale and shifted them up and down. “Between potentially kissing Kacey and somehow writing an eight-page research paper with far too little time, we all know what I picked.”
Orange mist drifted in and out of Brandon’s nostrils as he breathed the colored fog and forced himself to sit down. Terrance leaned in toward Jonah, waiting for the end of a story he didn’t realize was already over.
“So how’d it go?” the large man finally asked, unable to wait any longer.
The others both looked incredulously at him.
“What do you mean, ‘how’d it go?’” Jonah asked, annoyed at Terrance for not following his tale. “We got caught and kicked out. Were you paying any attention to what we were talking about?”
“No. I mean, with Kacey Foster. I always thought she was real cute. I like blondes.” A goofy smiled played across his face as he imagined Kacey as she’d looked the last time he’d seen her. That wet sorority t-shirt had been so hot. She was a real party animal after a few shots.
“You like everything,” Brandon muttered.
“No I don’t. I don’t like sharing this booth with Jonah.”
“Regardless, things between Kacey and myself did not work out,” Jonah cut in. “The whole getting-expelled-the-same-week-I-started-dating-her thing may or may not have been a factor.” He grinned and wrapped his arm around Terrance’s head to pull him close. “But hey, it all worked out in the end. I’ve got you guys.” The cheerful charade lasted a couple of seconds before Jonah dropped the smile and added, “And nothing else.”
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