His melancholy turn was interrupted by a Galdarsh waitress in booty shorts approaching their table. Terrance leered at her while his friends ordered the restaurant’s cheapest beer.
“Make it three,” he said, placing his order and winking at her.
She smiled and said, “You got it. Three beers. And yours is on the house.” She twirled and sauntered back to the waiter station while Terrance watched her avidly.
“Really, Terrance, a Galdarsh girl? Perhaps you didn’t notice, but you can see every vein in their body. They look like they’re tattooed with blue spider webs,” Jonah said.
Terrance shook his head. “That’s what everybody thinks, so they’re easy pickings. You find yourself a hot Galdarsh girl like any of the ones who work here and convince them to get a spray tan. Boom!” He clapped his hands together and raised them in the air, mimicking an explosion. “Instant hot girlfriend.”
“Gentleman,” Brandon interjected. His voice was low as he leaned fervently over the table. “We’ve spent enough time arguing and talking about girls and unimportant issues. The real question now is how to get what we paid so very dearly for, and what we will do with that weasel Fred Baggins.”
Terrance shrugged. “I don’t really care about Baggins, so long as he comes through on the deal. It’s the school I’ve got a problem with.” The ambivalence disappeared from his voice, replaced with pigheaded determination. “I’ve got no student visa now and they want to send me back to that frozen rock that’s not even a real planet. I spent enough time there. I like the sunlight and I’m never going back.”
Brandon nodded. “Your heart’s in the right place, Terrance. Unlike your brain. Its whereabouts remain unknown. But if Baggins doesn’t come through, his name goes on the list. Nobody fucks me and gets away with it.” Brandon’s gaze shifted to Jonah. “Isn’t that right, Jonah?”
Stone-faced and silent, Jonah sat rigidly in the semi-darkness and nodded.
At that moment, the waitress returned with their beers. “Hope you boys are still thirsty!” She played her part, leaning over seductively to set their beers on the table.
Terrance pulled out his wallet. “This one’s on me, gang.” He turned to the waitress. “And honey, here’s your tip.” He slid her a coupon to a tanning salon. That was how Terrance got beer all over his favorite shirt.
CHAPTER SIX
Armaros, Theron Techcropolis, Teak and Tack Taco Shack
Jayne and Fred walked past the Galdarsh restaurant and down the second-story walkway toward the Taco Shack and Bar. As far as Jayne could tell, Fred hadn’t noticed the goons and there was no reason to let him know they were nearby. The odds of running into them were slim given the dozens of restaurants in the area.
Students crowded Teak and Tack’s large patio, chowing down and drinking. A few guys chatted up the girls at other tables. It was a typical college hangout.
One of the drunks called to her as she passed. “Hey, Legs! You got a mirror in your pocket? Cause I can see myself in your pants.”
Jayne stopped in her tracks. “I’m wearing a skirt, dude. I don’t have pockets.”
“Oh…” The drunk staggered and looked down in shame. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Some girls at the next table all laughed at him. Jayne nodded to herself. It felt good to make a guy like that the butt of the joke for once. At first she had felt the urge to smash his jackass face into the table, but Jayne was undercover. And her jab was a helpful reminder: the pen can be mightier than the sword.
Fred stepped up by Jayne. “Hey, asshole!” The drunk turned to Fred now. “Do you have a mirror in your pocket? Because I suggest you take a long hard look at yourself!”
The drunk nodded. “Yes sir. I’m sorry… It’s just… I never felt like my mom gave me adequate attention as a child, and I compensate for that by getting any attention I can from women. Deep down—“
“Save it for your autobiography!” Fred turned to Jayne. “Let’s go inside.” That little display of backbone surprised her. He opened the door and they walked inside.
The drunk shouted one last parting apology before the door closed. “Starting today, I’m turning my life arou-.” The rest of his words were muffled by the sounds of the restaurant although it wasn’t busy inside and only a few people sat at the tables. Apparently, sitting outside was the thing to do, but considering the tek-soggy crowd, the interior seemed more amenable.
It took a long time for Jayne to develop her taste for tek. It entered vogue nearly a century and a half before Jayne was born, its popularity spurred by its relaxing effect in altered gravity situations. The appeal of the carbonated drink was dextromethorphan, the active ingredient in the obsolete serum once known as cough syrup.
A group of pretty young waitresses stood behind a counter. One saw them and whispered with visible excitement, loudly enough for Jayne to hear, “Oh, my God, Lana. That guy is here.”
Lana was a raven-haired girl with creamy skin, bright green eyes, and a slim waist. She looked toward them and her shoulders tightened. Jayne could see her sigh as she turned and entered into a fierce but quiet conversation with her companions.
Jayne arched her brow and looked at Fred, whose cheeks blushed a vivid red.
“Come on,” he muttered, ignoring the implied question. He darted from Jayne and hurried to the back corner of the restaurant where the light was dim and they wouldn’t be seen by anyone entering. Fred sat with his back to the wall, a position few, if any, would normally take.
Of course, Jayne wasn’t exactly normal, and she suspected Fred wasn’t either. Only people with military training would have taken that spot. Surely it was simply a coincidence. Nothing about this guy’s demeanor seemed out of the ordinary, although it might explain how he had access to illegal weapons. Selvanium weapons to be specific. They certainly weren’t something your average student knew how to obtain. Even if Jayne wanted those, it’d take her several days of hitting the pavement and infiltrating the right crowd.
She sat opposite him. She felt uncomfortable having her back to everything and only being able to see Fred and the looping hologram of a matador fighting a bull that projected behind him.
The second they were seated, the waitress who first saw them enter approached.
“I didn’t think we’d see you again, cutie,” she said playfully to Fred. “After what happened last time, you know. Lana’s not avoiding you or anything either. She’s got the outside section, so she can’t serve you, is all. Anyway, what can I get you?”
He stammered his order without looking at the menu. Jayne scrolled through the menu embedded in the table. There weren’t many choices—a few variations of tacos and tek and the happy hour special she had heard about. By the time he finished his order, she already knew what she wanted.
“I’ll take the shrimp tacos and tek happy hour special,” she said.
The waitress sighed regretfully. “Sorry. We’re out of shrimp. We have ground funkles—I can’t believe it’s not chicken—avocado, fried c—.”
“All right. Give me the avocado taco and tek happy hour special then,” Jayne said testily. It wasn’t the waitress’ fault, but now, Jayne had a craving that wouldn’t be satisfied. Avocado tacos were fine. It’s what she feared she would have to order the whole way over there. That didn’t stop her mouthwatering every time she saw that picture of the beautiful crustaceans, though.
“You got it. I’ll be right back with your tek. And it’s good to see you eating with someone,” the waitress said, patting Fred’s hand. “Quite a catch too. Good for you.”
Once the waitress was safely out of earshot, Jayne locked her eyes with Fred – an intimidation tactic that always works. “Okay, Fred. What the hell’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he insisted. “It doesn’t matter.” His constantly darting gaze told her otherwise.
Kind of a twitchy guy. Maybe he’s simply paranoid.
“Fred, I have the uneasy feeling that someone might spit in our food and I didn’t
get my flu shot this year. So level with me. What the fuck happened the last time you were here?” She stared at him until his composure broke and he slouched in his chair, staring at the table.
“It’s embarrassing.”
“Yeah, I’ve done lots of embarrassing things. Don’t get me started,” she countered.
The Raindrop Delta training mission, Francois Casanova, her entire sophomore year of high school…
“I used to come here regularly. Alone because I wanted to study, not because I don’t have friends. I have friends.”
Jayne gave him an exaggerated nod and a tight-lipped smile. Sure you do, buddy.
“I always sat at this table. It’s Lana’s section. That whole thing about her having the outside section is probably a crock of shit. She’s avoiding me. Anyway, she was always really nice to me and we got to know each other. She was super flirty, touching my arm all the time, leaning over so I could get a good look at her cleavage, things like that.”
Things that would earn her a big tip, Jayne thought.
“Anyway, one day, things were slow in the restaurant. I’d been drinking tek while I did some homework. Lana sat down next to me and we began chatting. When her manager wasn’t looking, she would take some sips of my tek. It was really kind of sweet. We both laughed a lot and it felt like a date. At one point, when she looked at me with those big green incandescent eyes…I mean, it was stupid of me. I should have known better. But I went in for a kiss. As soon as my lips brushed hers, she jumped back and stood up. I guess I read the whole situation wrong. She said she had to go, and she went into the back of the restaurant. Our waitress that night came by shortly after and gave me my bill. I sucked up my courage and came back the next day, hoping that maybe Lana was there. But when she saw me, she couldn’t get to the back of the restaurant fast enough. So, yeah, that’s that.”
Fred sagged against his chair and waited for Jayne’s judgement.
She sighed. “You can’t kiss a waitress, Fred. She was milking you for tips,” she said, softly. As if that could spare his feelings.
“I know,” he answered dejectedly. “But I can’t stop thinking about our lips brushing against each other, even if it was only for a split second.”
Jayne cringed. “Ah, Fred, that’s fucking creepy. You need to get laid and forget her. But not by me. I don’t want you getting confused. You’re not my type.”
“I’m not anyone’s type,” he mumbled under his breath.
Save it for your autobiography, Jayne thought.
Their waitress walked up with a tray and dropped off the tall, narrow glasses that held their tek. She smiled kindly at Fred and he sank even lower in his seat as his cheeks flushed.
Jayne picked up her drink and raised it to her companion. “Salut,” she said, before taking a deep pull from her glass. The alcohol kicked almost like a shot, but its natural wheatgrass properties made it more tolerable. Tek was known to provide a happy buzz. Or a happy wasted if you drank more than one glass. Up in the space station, it had been the drink of choice. The last time she had a sip was after her unfortunate meeting with the dean. She overdid it somewhat that night.
But not tonight. Tonight, she’d have only the one glass.
+++
Three glasses later, Jayne and Fred both slurred at each other, deep in conversation.
“But, Fred, I know what I saw…er, heard. With that guy. Come on. You’re an arms dealer.”
He shook his head vigorously in denial, his lips scrunched closed.
“Nope. No way. Not me. That was…an acting scene. Brandon’s my acting partner. It’s from a play. Uh…The Arms Dealer of Venice. Very post-post-modern, street theater stuff.”
Around them, the crowd noise had picked up and a dozen conversations filled the background.
“Why are you lying to me Fred? Didn’t I help you out? I won’t tell anyone. Come on. If you told someone like that prick Brandon, why can’t you tell me?”
Fred slumped in his seat and sighed. He looked around the restaurant, seeing all the people but not paying attention to them.
“Okay,” he admitted. “I’m a little bit of a weapons dealer. But nobody needs to know that. This isn’t exactly a cheap school.”
Jayne bounced excitedly in her seat. “I knew it! I knew it! But Fred, you can’t have those kinds of altercations in public if you want to keep your business a secret. If the school finds out, you’re toast. Not to mention what could happen if law enforcement gets involved.”
“I know. It’s not like I wanted Brandon to make a scene. He’s mad because…well, I took on a deal to get him certain items. But by the time he gave me the money for them, the cost had skyrocketed.”
She tapped her fingers on the table as she considered his words. “Did you come to an agreement on the price when you first made the deal?”
Fred groaned. “Yeah.”
Jayne took another sip of her tek. Thoughts of taking it easy had long since evaporated. It would be another one of those nights, whether she wanted it or not.
“Well, I hate to be on his side ʼcause he’s clearly a prick. But you made a deal with him, Fred. And in any business, and I imagine especially in a black-market business, honoring your agreements is vital.”
He nodded and sighed. It was ironic, being confronted on moral grounds when he was dealing in illicit goods. “You’re right. I made a deal. Even if I lose money on it, I have to see it through. Better than having my arms broken by Terrance.” Fred’s eyes opened, and he smiled at her. He looked relaxed for perhaps the first time since they’d met. “Thanks, Jayne.”
Then he stood and stumbled away.
“Where are you going? Fred! We haven’t paid the bill.”
Fred turned to her, looking confident—an effect of the tek, no doubt. “I have an exchange to arrange. If you can pay, I’ll get it next time. My word is good.”
With that, he strode out of the restaurant and into the night. Jayne couldn’t help but notice Lana staring after him as he left. She almost looked like she wanted to say something in the split second before he walked out the door. But then he was gone, and she went back to serving drunk students their tek and tacos.
With no plans of her own for the night, Jayne slapped her payment on the table and wandered outside. She smiled. Oh, how she loved that stuff. A tek night was a good night. Maybe she’d even make her way to the third floor, where the clubs and illicit dens operated. That sounded like a good time.
+++
Armaros, Theron Techcropolis, Undisclosed location
A flashlight breached the darkness, illuminating the dust motes floating in the air after being kicked up by the beam’s owner. Unused desks were piled on top of each other in one corner of the room. A large digi-board with a half-erased complex math equation butted up against boxes of unused textbooks. The only windows overlooking the grass outside were squat and at the very top of the room.
Technically, Fred wasn’t breaking and entering. At least he didn’t think he was. The doors weren’t locked, and he didn’t see any signs saying Do Not Enter. It was merely a place where no one ever had any reason to go, a perfect place for a drop.
He carried the flashlight in one hand and an armored case in the other. Sweat trickled down his face from the effort of carrying his product from his van.
He shuffled quickly but awkwardly into the room and set the case down beside the boxes of books. With a heavy sigh, he shook his arms to ease the stiffness. The adrenaline of making a drop had to be his favorite part of the job. Mixing that with his tek buzz, though, was almost overwhelming.
He paced the basement, knowing he shouldn’t stay long but practicing what he would say. Finally, he took out his phone and dialed.
“Baggins,” a voice on the other end said emotionlessly. Fred tensed at the sound and clenched his jaw unconsciously.
“It’s there,” he said as he paced a track in the dust of the abandoned room.
“You made the right decision, Fred.” The line cli
cked as the person on the other end hung up.
Fred wiped the sweat from his forehead and headed back the way he’d come. His heart still pounded in his chest and he doubted he’d get much sleep that night.
+++
Armaros, Techcropolis, Tesla University of Technical Arts, Block F, Student Residential Hall, Jayne’s Quarters
Jayne stumbled into her dorm room, a completely hammered mess. Her hair was sweaty and her skirt askew. She hadn’t done anything too naughty; only some dancing in one of the clubs on the third level followed by a little making out with a cute guy covered in tattoos. That’s mostly what she meant when she told Fred he wasn’t her type – he didn’t have any tattoos. She liked being able to understand someone’s whole life story as she explored their body. Sort of knocking out two birds with one stone.
A drunken smile lit her face as she thought of him. He’d wanted more than to simply make out, but when he asked her if she’d go back to his place, she knew better. When he asked for her number, she said no. And when he asked her again if she wanted to go back to his place—because guys always try multiple times, she thought—she remembered how she’d fucked up and had sex with Francois and so she said no.
Francois. God! Why did he have to be an enemy agent? He was so…mmmph. Jayne’s hand slid under her skirt as she floated on tek bliss and thought about Francois and the tattooed cutie from the club. Then she remembered she had a roommate and her eyes snapped open. Her hand grew still.
It was silent in the dorm room. Praying her roommate was asleep, she straightened and looked at the bed across from her. It was empty. Relief flooded her, followed by a tinge of surprise that Jess wasn’t there. Two a.m. on orientation week? Maybe Jess wasn’t as much of a good girl as she’d thought.
She considered going back to what she was doing, but the moment had passed. She sat on her bed instead, feeling depressed. Everything was going so well, then Francois turned out to be a fucking double agent and her life went down the shitter. Now there she was, rebuilding from scratch. Without putting any thought into it, she grabbed her phone and drunk-dialed her bestie from the academy.
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