by Rayner Ye
Heat flooded Delisa’s face and neck, and she swallowed, leaning farther back.
“Anyway,” Mummy said. “I’ve offered him your hand in marriage.”
An uncontrollable shudder swept through her entire body, and she bolted upright. “No...Mummy...no. Why...”
“Because, as I said, he is a wealthy man with a lot of connections, and we need his help now more than ever. If these magicians take down Glass City, what will happen then?”
Delisa’s words dried up and a lump formed in her throat.
“I’ve offered him a sweet proposal. I’ve told him I'd pay double the price any embryo trafficker would for his exotic embryos from Eeporyo.”
Delisa swallowed. “And what did he say?”
“He didn’t think twice. He’ll marry you right away. But firstly, we need you out of Glass City safely.”
“Mummy. Please let me stay. Can’t he come and live with me?”
“You’ve got to be joking. Can’t you remember what happened at the Yiksaan complex?” Mummy drained her coffee, banged her cup down and waggled her finger, staring into Delisa’s eyes. “No, no, no. I’m not having my daughter killed or sent to a moon jail.”
Delisa rubbed her hair. “I wish I had a clone. One with fewer wrinkles and ten years younger.”
“You and your vanity.” Mummy rubbed her chin and looked up in thought. “I wish you had a clone in case your life was ever at risk, but those things cost more than you can imagine. Only kings and queens can afford them. And Bamdar, of course.”
“You know Bamdar’s not rich anymore, Mummy? I heard from Daddy that the Mayleedian Interstellar Police took most of his assets.”
Mummy sucked her teeth. “Don’t listen to your father. What does he know?” She stood and walked through the Biluglass pod, which used to be Delisa’s home. Mummy entered the bathroom and sat on the toilet. “I’ve been talking to Pak’Lyfee, and he showed me the figures. Bamdar remains a wealthy man. With our collaboration, we can build more moon cities, and keep the sex industry alive. You will marry him, and I won’t say any more.”
Delisa hunched her shoulders. “When will the wedding take place?”
Mummy activated the wash-and-dry mechanism, then stood and pulled up her lacy knickers. “When you get to Kuanja.” She turned to wash her hands.
“Where in Kuanja?”
Mummy faced her. “Markaz.” She directed the airSphere to follow her back to the dining room.
“At least we’re not getting married in that shit hole Firesnake.”
“No, no. Only the best for my daughter.” She bit into an apple. “Unfortunately Bamdar’s an atheist, so there won’t be a church ceremony.”
Delisa shrugged. “I don’t care. If I did, I’d have to believe I’m going to hell after I die.”
“Of course you won’t go to hell. Derek the almighty will always forgive your sins if you ask. I’ll go to heaven; however many people I hurt. I ask for forgiveness every night.”
That evening Delisa laid in the arms of her Black-Biluvian sexbot, Richard. They watched an action movie on her airSphere, which she’d flattened against the pod’s inner shell. She gazed into his extra-large black eyes, and her reflection looked back—a pretty petite young woman. Her roots were showing. They’d need bleaching asap.
She pouted, unsure whether he was looking at her or the screen. She usually liked that about Black-Biluvians—dark and mysterious. “I wish I didn’t have to marry Bamdar. It’s you I love.”
“I love you too. I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”
“I won’t let them recycle you, but I don’t want you to go to another rich woman, either.”
“I would never be with another woman.”
“I’ll ask Daddy to send you home to Nerthus. Perhaps you could be his chauffeur.”
He smiled and pointed at the airSphere’s monitor. “Don’t miss this bit. He’s about to get his head blown off, haha.”
Chapter 21*Bamdar
Bamdar paced the video surveillance room where ten employees controlled their mosquito drones from within airSpheres. He stopped and flicked on his own orb of light, where he flew from ward to ward in the hospital, looking for Aedre.
The doors had screens to guard against flying insects, so he had to wait for someone to open them. He landed the drone on the ceiling and withdrew from the airSphere. “Toby.”
“Yes, Boss?” The Native-Red lad looked young enough to be his son.
“You take over. Know who you’re looking for?”
“Yes. Lyfee’s been through it with us. The Noctar with curly red hair.”
Bamdar snarled, took a couple of steps forward, and whipped his hand through the air. He paused midair, as Toby ducked down and covered his head.
Bamdar lowered his hand and glared at the lad. “Don’t ever use that word around me.”
“Sorry, Boss.”
“Don’t ever use that word around me. Just as I’m a man, Aedre’s a woman. We’re not Noctars.” He swung his head around. “Any phone or radio reception yet, folks?”
A female swivelled on her chair. “Sorry, Pak’Bamdar. I’m afraid there isn’t. Too much ash in the air.”
He clenched his teeth, marched through the door, then slammed it shut behind him. This place was getting on his nerves. He needed to go outside.
He went through the underground corridor to the mobster’s lounge, where ten lazy bastards drank and smoked.
He gestured for one of the men to pass him his poppy oil cigarette and took a deep drag. His muscles relaxed, and he sat back on the sofa. “Can anyone fly to Giok and see Aedre for me?”
“Can’t, Boss.” A new guy with oiled black and white striped hair sat forward. “No transport to the island.”
“My private submarine?”
“The Mayleedians took that along with your androids and sexbots in Ingan,” a tall and wiry Native-Red said. “We’ll keep trying the connections for you, Boss.”
Zedrom walked into view. His olive skin and stocky body contrasted with the other men. “Why don’t you go for a massage or see one of the girls for something else? Too much stress isn’t good for your health.”
“You’ll keep up the search for Aedre while I’m gone?”
“I will,” the new guy said. “I’ll oversee the drone surveillance room for you.”
“Who’s gonna keep an eye on the phone and radio reception at the hospital?”
“I will,” the lanky one said.
Bamdar nodded and went to the spa in his other underground building.
He still had plenty of money, so he’d employed ten prostitutes for his use only, and a few tramps for his men to share. He’d have a massage first, followed by something a little more exciting, if he felt up to it.
He chose a bubbly blonde who Pak’Lyfee found in the city. She wasn’t a bleached blonde, but a real one, even down there. She had big tits too. Good to stick his head between.
He lay naked on the massage table.
She climbed onto his back and kneaded his shoulders. “Wow.” She dug deeper. “You are really tense today.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Anything you’d like to talk about?”
“Ah. Searching for a woman.”
“Well, she must be quite important if the almighty Bamdar is searching for her. Where is she?” She moved down to his right side.
Warmth radiated throughout his body, and he relaxed into it. “In a hospital in Giok.”
“The hospital’s still running?”
“Yeah. Far enough from the volcano.”
She switched sides. “So. Who’s the lucky lady?”
“Not such a lucky lady. Paralysed from the neck down.”
“Oh, dear. I’m sorry. Is she family?”
“No. An enemy.”
She giggled and massaged his left side. “Serves her right, then.”
He pushed himself up, throwing off the whore in the process, then bent down and hissed in her face. “An enemy I
like.” (Italicise) Or love.
She shuddered on the floor. “I’m, I’m, sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Well, you know now. She might be paralysed, but she’s strong and brave, and a hundred times more woman than you’ll ever be!”
She bit her lip, put a hand on her chest, and looked down.
He dressed and returned to the lounge.
Zedrom stood. “That was a quick massage.”
“The girl pissed me off.”
“Good timing, though. We’ve got a phone connection. You wanna ring?”
“Yes.”
Zedrom dialled the number on his holophone.
An image of a nurse stood on top. “Hello. How can I help?”
Bamdar rubbed his hands and remained standing. “Hi. I have a friend in your hospital. A Nerthling Sax. Was wondering if she was safe.”
“The name of your friend?”
“Aedre Johnston. She’s paralysed.”
“And your name?”
“Red.”
“Wait, please. Let me check the computer system.”
She disappeared from the holophone, and Bamdar poured himself a glass of cold water.
She came back with downturned features. “I’m sorry. Aedre got permission to leave the hospital for an outing to the river in her village, Kos. She hasn’t come back. I’m afraid she went there on the same evening as the tragedy.”
“No. That can’t be right.”
“Sorry. Earthquakes and ash destroyed the whole of Kos. There was also a tsunami in Aedre's village too. Most of its residents died or remain unaccounted for.”
Bile burned the back of his throat. He opened his mouth to speak but was unable to find the words.
She blinked. “Is there a number I can call you on if the rescue team finds her?”
He nodded, dazed. “JH5372D.”
***
Bamdar and Pak’Lyfee ate out in an upper-class sushi restaurant in Rajka.
Pak’Lyfee sipped his red wine and dabbed the corners of his mouth. “How does it feel going out again?”
Bamdar pushed his food around his plate and shrugged.
“I’d like to discuss your marriage with the Glass City Director, Delisa.”
Bamdar continued to play with his food.
“You are still game, aren’t you?”
Bamdar frowned. “I don’t care. Marriage is just a word. As long as she doesn’t expect me to stay faithful.”
“No. Not likely. It’s a business proposal to join your assets.”
“I don’t give a pig’s ass, then!”
He looked up at Pak’Lyfee, whose peach face changed to a shade of red, and whose eyes shifted around the restaurant.
Pak’Lyfee relaxed at the final eye contact. “She’ll be leaving Glass City in the next week with those who failed the recent exam. The tachyon thrust is superior, so it’ll only take two and a half years to reach Markaz. Your wedding will be held there.”
The hollowness in Bamdar’s chest since receiving the news about Aedre felt somehow heavy. His food was tasteless, whatever he ate. “Aedre was the only woman for me.”
Pak’Lyfee’s eyes widened, and he put down his cutlery. “But, you agree to marry Delisa?”
“You think I should?”
“Yes, you’ll make more money. And possibly be able to build more Glass Cities elsewhere. The fact Aedre’s dead means there won’t be a repeat of what happened last time.”
“I’d prefer she were alive.”
“How can you say that?” Pak’Lyfee blinked. “She ruined everything you ever had.”
Bamdar’s pulse beat slowly as he stared down at the food on his plate. “Money doesn’t seem to have much meaning now that Aedre’s dead. Nothing has meaning anymore.”
***
Bamdar smoked poppy oil in his Jacuzzi with a couple of whores.
They laughed and giggled as he stared at the bubbles and foam.
Zedrom entered. “You’re not smoking that stuff again, are you?”
Bamdar continued to stare at the water. “Leave me alone.”
“No. I won’t. You want the Yiksaan to dissolve into nothingness?”
Bamdar didn’t reply.
“Because that's what will happen without your input. I’m concerned with your state of health and addiction to poppy oil.”
Bamdar shrugged.
“Could you leave, girls?” Zedrom asked.
After the door shut, Zedrom moved to the opposite side of the hot tub. “I’d like to suggest something.”
Bamdar met his gaze.
“Go to rehabilitation and see a psychologist. You’d have to keep your identity to yourself, though. Not tell the psychologist who you really are.”
“I’m not stupid. What rehab?”
“One in Wang. Set in the forests by the sea.”
“Okay,” Bamdar mumbled.
Zedrom’s black eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
He nodded. The opium was fucking him up and making him weak. He had to stop.
“Right. Good. Shall we pack your bags?”
Bamdar nodded again.
“Would you like to choose what to pack, or prefer someone to do it for you?
Bamdar gave a vacant stare.
“Pak’Bamdar?”
“What did you say?”
“Do you want to pack or get someone else to do it?”
“I’ll do it.”
Zedrom helped him out of the bath and slipped a towel robe over his shoulders. Bamdar shuffled towards his walk-in closet, then collapsed on the floor.
***
Three weeks later, Bamdar chewed his nails as he sat in an armchair opposite an elderly Markazean psychologist.
She ran a red and black striped hand down the salt and pepper plait tossed over her shoulder. “So, you say you’re ready to leave?”
He straightened. “Yep.”
“And why’s that?”
“A woman I love. She’s waiting for me.”
“Does this woman have a name?”
“She does. But that’s not for you to know.”
“I need to know her name before I let you leave.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Come on.”
He growled. “Aedre.”
“Where’s Aedre now?”
“At my home in Rajanakki.”
“Aedre’s an odd name for an Inarmuzzan.”
“She’s Nerthling.”
The psychologist nodded. “So, the woman you love, a Nerthling, is waiting for you at your home in Rajanakki?”
His nerve endings tingled all over, and he pressed his palms to his cheeks. “That’s right. That’s right. She is.”
“You’ve done remarkably well at withdrawing from poppy oil. Will you be able to abstain from its use once outside?”
He sat at the edge of his seat and nodded vigorously.
“Your friend will pay you a private visit tonight. I will discuss what we talked about with my colleagues. Everything's looking positive.”
His hands clutched together, and when the psychologist stood and smiled, he mirrored her stance.
“Same time tomorrow?” she asked.
“Same time.”
That evening, Bamdar retired to his apartment. He hesitated at the sight of Zedrom on the sofa. “What are you doing here?”
“Didn’t the doctor say I’d come?”
He touched his bottom lip and looked up. “Oh, yes.”
“She told me you’re ready to return to Innarmuzza.”
Bamdar walked over to the kitchen unit and pulled a milkshake out of the fridge. “Want one?”
“Nah. I’m alright, thanks.” He looked around the room, nodding. “Your psychologist tells me you’re eager to see Aedre.”
“That’s right.”
Zedrom’s eyes became dark and severe. “Bamdar. You know she’s probably dead, don’t you?”
“Huh? What’re you talking about?”
“The volcano? The tsunami at Haunted
River?”
“Haunted River?”
“In Giok?”
Bamdar laughed and slapped his thigh. “You’re having me on, right?”
Zedrom folded his hands in his lap.
“I’ve never even taken her to Giok. What’re you going on about, a volcano?”
When Zedrom spoke, his voice was devoid of emotion. “Tell me what you’re going to do when you get home to Aedre.”
Bamdar tutted. What was his game? “Seriously?”
Zedrom nodded.
“Buy her a bunch of roses.” He sat on the cosy seat opposite. “And take her to the most expensive restaurant in Rajka. She can wear her long black dress which cuts low behind to show off her elegant back and swan-like neck.”
“Where’s home?”
Bamdar chuckled. “You’re joking, right?”
Zedrom’s face remained deadpan.
“In the tea plantation hideout between Penkarang and Rajka, of course.”
“You didn’t tell anyone your real name, did you?”
“Of course not, I’m Red now.”
“Good.”
Bamdar clambered closer to Zedrom, dragging his cosy seat along with him. “Look. The sooner I can get outta here, the sooner I can follow her through the pyramid into Eeporyo’s past.”
“What?”
“There’s a lot of money that can be made farming those hybrids and making exotic concubine training camps.”
“Eeporyo’s past?”
“Through the time portal, of course!”
Zedrom gaped at him and opened his palms up.
“I told you about it the other day. The key’s still in there. It looks like a ruin, but the altar is still there, and so is my key which that cheeky rascal stole.”
“Cheeky rascal?”
“Aedre! She thought she’d keep it from me, but I’m not that stupid.”
Zedrom gazed downwards. “I’m sorry, my friend. You’re not ready to come out. It appears you’ve become completely insane.”
Heart thudding, he stared at Zedrom. “I’ll have you killed when I get out of here. You traitor!”
Zedrom pulled out a gadget from under his shirt and pressed a button.
Two large male nurses rushed into the room with a syringe and injected something into Bamdar’s backside. His vision blurred and muscles slackened as Zedrom walked out of the room.
Chapter 22*Crowleen
