"Sounds good to me, amigo, and thanks," Jace said.
Edgar pressed the call button and began telling Jace the story of his trip to Maxi's, laughing at Jace's response to Mr. Gym-clothes and Grocery Man. Jace was fanatical about personal hygiene, but as usual, his grimace turned to laughter as Edgar continued. The next round arrived and the two friends drank and laughed, trouble temporarily forgotten.
Two hours and two more rounds later, the two men were well and properly drunk. Jace had just finished telling a joke about an archaeosociologist and a Ch'oran at a bar when Edgar, through the laughter, told Jace he had to relieve himself. "Same here," said Jace, "though I expect your need is greater than mine, what with all that beer."
Edgar responded, "That is a full-blown truth! Should we set the reserve signal?" The signal was a red light on the top of the booth backs signifying the booth was taken.
Jace checked the time, "As much as I'd like to stay longer, I've gotta get some sleep. We leave tomorrow, remember?"
"Right," Edgar drew the word out to five syllables as the two stood. "Remember what I said to do? Make sure you explain it to your parents that way, too."
"I remember. Fuck, you'd think that thought would sober me up a bit, but I'm still gonna have to get an Alc-no tab before we leave. That or I'll end up on a magna to Navea!" Jace laughed, stumbling a little as he exited the booth into the throbbing music.
Edgar started to laugh, cut short when he, too, stumbled on the same step. Jace was waiting for him and laughed when he saw Edgar trip. The two hung on to each other laughing for a few seconds before weaving their way, arm-in-arm to the bathrooms. When they were finished, they wobbled to the bar and ordered two Alc-no tabs.
The tabs, invented a hundred years ago, reduced blood alcohol content by fifty percent in five minutes. They came with stern warnings to not take more than one tab. Early on, some tried; they all died. Apparently, the addition of an extra dose more than doubled the drug's strength. Unfortunately, that didn't mean simply taking up one hundred percent of a person's blood alcohol content. The deadly concentration then proceeded to strip the body of glucose and all other sugars necessary to human life. Death was quick and painless, but assured nonetheless.
The bartender, a swarthy, dark-eyed man who made no secret of his examination of Jace, served them the small, green tablets, allowing his fingertips to graze Jace's palm for a moment longer than absolutely necessary. Jace, too drunk to notice, thanked the man and popped the tab into his mouth. Edgar was already chewing his tab and just shrugged at the slightly confused bartender who shrugged in return and moved on to serve another customer.
They leaned against the bar for the requisite five minutes until the Alc-no kicked in and they were halfway to sober. The change was sudden enough to warrant an obvious reaction, commonly known as the Alc-no Shake, a head-to-toe shiver. Edgar's hit him a moment before Jace's and the two laughed at each other good-naturedly. The commonly-held theory about the Alc-no Shake was that one's facial expression during the Shake was identical to the face that individual made during orgasm.
Edgar tested it at home once, taking a video of himself. He almost pissed himself laughing at the results; partly because he was still half-drunk and partly because his O-face looked like the face of a man caught between a religious experience and a good laugh. He knew Jace must've found it funny, too, based on the man's laughter. What Jace didn't know was that his own O-face was equally amusing: a cross between a sneeze and stubbing one's toe.
Once they calmed down, they proceeded to the door, welcoming the fresh air and quiet that greeted them outside Maxi's. The pair spent a moment just enjoying the peace and quiet. Finally, Edgar turned to Jace and spread his arms open. The other man smiled broadly, opened his own arms and stepped into the proffered hug. After a hearty backslap, they stepped away from each other.
"Thanks so much for coming out tonight, Edgar," Jace said. "You have no idea how much better I feel. Good company, good drinks, lots of laughs and excellent information. I'll call Anice on the way home to go over what you told me. She'll bitch about the time, but tough luck! I'm still not looking forward to mom's reaction, and selling this marriage is gonna be hard; but at least it looks like a better situation than I thought."
"No worries, Jace. You're a good friend. I had a great time and I'm glad I could help. Good luck with your parents and let me know how it all works out when you get back," Edgar said.
"You got it!" Jace said, turning to go. Edgar turned to leave too, when Jace called him back. "Hey!"
"Yeah, buddy?" Edgar turned.
"Did that bartender hit on me?" Jace asked.
Edgar laughed loudly. "He sure did! It was a good one, too! You were just too drunk to notice it."
"Figures," said Jace, laughing at himself. "If I didn't have to leave for home tomorrow, it would've been fun. He was cute!"
"Well, he'll be here when you get back," Edgar said, smiling. "Just remember: Less vodka, more tonic next time. Otherwise, it won't matter anyway; you'll be swinging a floppy bat!"
Jace laughed and gave Edgar a lecherous look. "Who says I'd be swinging? Maybe I'd play catcher?"
Edgar threw his head back and laughed. "That I'd have to see to believe!" he replied. "Knowing what an insatiable ass-hound you are!" Edgar returned the lecherous leer.
"Ya never know, Edgar. A guy can turn over a new leaf," Jace said.
"You'd be turning over more than a leaf," Edgar shot back. "Go on, call your sister and get some sleep!"
"I'm on it!" Jace answered. "Get yourself home and rest. I want to hear all about your date when I get back," he added. Edgar had given him a brief rundown on the Maddox situation earlier.
"It's a deal!" Edgar answered. "Safe travels!"
"Thanks!" Jace called out, already on his way to catch the magna. Edgar set off in the opposite direction to catch his own. Despite the Alco-no, he was still on the edge of drunk; he'd had three beers before he even left home. He was also feeling a bit tired; too much beer tended to have that effect.
The magna back to Altair Station arrived five minutes after Edgar this time, reminding him of the late boarding earlier in the evening. This caused a small fit of the giggles as he thought of poor Grocery Man. He stopped as he stepped aboard, remembering Mr. Gym-clothes. He stood at the entrance of the car for a moment and breathed deeply. Of course, it was clean-smelling; it'd had a bit over two hours to air out. Fortunately, the car was empty; he took the nearest seat, more to get off his feet than anything else. Glancing back, he saw the car behind his had four passengers; he was glad he'd chosen this one as he really didn't feel like company.
Soon after, he palmed the lock to his apartment. After ordering a nine am wake-up and setting the security system, he fell into bed a bit after twelve-thirty. Within moments he was sound asleep, dreaming of attending a Thraxian wedding with Maddox.
CHAPTER 8
The soft chime of the alarm woke Edgar at nine a.m. He ordered the drapes open and lay in bed, enjoying the bright sun and the promise of a beautiful day. A band of sunlight warmed his bare chest and, if he'd been Ch'oran, he'd be purring. The UV protection built into the windows eliminated the need for SPF indoors.
As usual, he woke hungry. After a night of drinking beer, though, it was a very specific hunger: Mexican food. He smiled lazily, knowing just the place that would satisfy. "Place call: Las Dos Hermanas," he ordered the HC. The restaurant had the best Mexican in all of Altair and, as most did these days, they delivered. A moment later, the call connected.
"Good morning," said the slightly-accented female voice. "Las Dos Hermanas, how can I help you?"
"Good morning," Edgar said. "I'd like to place a delivery order; Highland House, Edgar Aeternum."
"Ah, buenos días, Edgar! The usual?" the woman asked.
"Yes please, Carmen," he answered. 'The usual' was a double order of chilaquiles, an incredibly delicious breakfast dish consisting of fried tortilla, topped with red salsa, fried eggs, pulled chicken,
queso freso and crema. All with a side of refried beans.
"Must've been a good night, querido! Anyone I know?" she joked.
Edgar chuckled and said, "Just a good friend with some family issues. He needed a sympathetic ear, querida."
"Ah well," Carmen said, "Better luck next time. You're a good friend, Edgar. I hate having conversations about las problemas familiares. It would've been tequila for me!" she chuckled, a musical trill.
"They're not my favorite, either, but he's a good friend. What are ya gonna do?" Edgar said.
"Exactly," agreed Carmen. "I'll have your chilaquiles out in about twenty minutes. Gotta go; another call," she paused. "And Edgar, it's a bit of busy morning, so please don't delay my delivery boy. Last time, chico came back completely distracted and walking funny." She gave that musical chuckle again.
"I promise," replied Edgar with a chuckle. "I gave him a good tip though."
"Si, si, why do you think he was walking funny!" she laughed. "¡Adiós, amigo!"
Edgar laughed and said, "You got me there, Carmencita! ¡Adiós, chica! End call."
He got out of bed and headed for the bathroom, still laughing. No time to dawdle; Las Dos Hermanas was never late and he didn't want to greet the delivery boy - man, really, he was eighteen - naked again. He forgot to put on the wrap and one thing led to another, which ultimately led to cold chilaquiles and a happy pair of sweaty men. Actually, he wouldn't mind greeting the young man naked again if it promised a repeat, but if Carmen said they were busy, they must be getting slammed. She never used the word "busy" for anything but a mind-bogglingly huge volume of orders.
Done in the bathroom, Edgar tossed on his robe and went to the kitchen for coffee. He was at his desk, just finishing reading the financial feed, when the HC announced the delivery. He opened the current events feed and approved Raul's entry to the building. A short time later, the HC chimed, announcing Raul's arrival at the door. Edgar put down his coffee and went to greet the handsome delivery boy.
The door whooshed open and Edgar swore he saw a momentary flash of disappointment on Raul's face upon seeing Edgar in a robe. The young man covered it quickly with a friendly smile and greeted Edgar, handing him a bag of food.
"Hola," Raul said, dark eyes shining. "I hope you're having a good morning!"
"Hola, Raul," Edgar replied. "I'm having a great morning, thanks; how about you?"
"Pretty good so far," Raul answered, licking his full lips suggestively.
Edgar reached out and brushed the back of his hand against the side of the boy's face. This simple act caused Raul to close his eyes and lean into the gesture. Edgar felt a familiar twitch from parts south and pulled his hand back. "I'm sorry, Raul, I shouldn't have done that. Carmen told me you guys are too busy this morning for me to delay you. Not that I wouldn't mind," he ended with a wink and a smile.
Raul sighed and returned the smile. "I know, she gave me the same speech before I left. Still, it was nice, so no worries. Maybe another time?" The boy looked hopeful and Edgar's familiar twitch became a familiar throb. He brought the bag of hot food in front of his crotch to hide his growing erection.
"Works for me," Edgar said, noticing a bulge beginning in Raul's pants, too. "The last thing I want to do is piss off Carmen!" he laughed. She was an easy-going person but he'd seen her temper once when he dined at the restaurant. A particularly nasty customer finally managed to push her to the breaking point; the dumbass man was lucky her tongue wasn't a knife, though it was certainly as sharp.
"¡Ai, no!" Raul said, also laughing. "That's the last thing I need! Maybe you can call me sometime? I'm at Tango-four-five-three-eight."
"Got it," said Edgar. "I may take you up on that, Raul."
"Great! Well, I better go; we really are slammed today and Carlos, our new delivery guy, is slow as shit," Raul said. "¡Adiós!"
"¡Adiós!" Edgar said as Raul walked back toward the elevator. Edgar watched him for a few seconds, enjoying the subtle flexing of the young man's tight ass. That, coupled with the heat from the bag, brought Edgar to full erection. He stepped back inside the apartment and the door slid closed.
Damn, not that I want business to suffer, but I sure wish they were slow today. I can always reheat the food. Ah, well, maybe another time. Right now, I need to satisfy the hunger in my stomach; the other hunger can wait.
He took the food into the kitchen and plated it. Soon, he was back at his desk, lost in the current events feed and the delicious chilaquiles. He got up once to refill his coffee and a half hour later, he was done with both the food and the news. He leaned back in his desk chair and looked out on the perfect day.
He put the dishes in the washer and refilled his coffee before heading back to the desk. He thought briefly of indulging in a quick JO session, but taking time out for breakfast and the news put his libido back to sleep for the moment. Rather than wake it up, he ordered his list of freelance assignments to the computer display.
Everything was proceeding on schedule, no impending deadlines demanding his attention. He decided it was a good time to dive into research for an upcoming piece on a recent problem on Ch'oros, the Ch'oran home world. Apparently, a group of Ch'oran vacationers to Earth decided to go camping; no harm in that, except that they inadvertently became flea-infested. The shuttle's bio-screens malfunctioned the day of their return to Ch'oros and now the capital city was experiencing an infestation of epic proportions as the little pests multiplied.
At first, Edgar found it slightly amusing. The Ch'oran were among the fiercest warriors in the known worlds; it wasn't surprising, what with four sets of retractable, razor sharp claws along with inch-long fangs. Yet, here they were, brought low by a minor pest from earth. Then Edgar learned the depth of the problem; it wasn't so much the itch-producing bites, although that was bad enough, it was the fact that the little buggers mutated after feasting upon Ch'oran blood. The mutation somehow made them perfect hosts for what was typically a minor Ch'oran virus resembling Earth's now-extinct common cold.
It was even worse than a city full of scratching, sniffling cat-people, though. As viruses are wont to do, the damn thing had mutated in the mutant fleas. It went from minor inconvenience to life-threatening illness in a matter of weeks. Half of the capital city was sick and the other half was trying desperately to stay well. So far, the epidemic hadn't left the capital and the government issued quarantine. Bio barriers were in place so there wasn't a danger - yet - of planet-wide infection. However, all it would take was one failed unit and the entire planet would be in jeopardy.
The problem was compounded by the fact that, unlike Earth, the Ch'oran hadn't been able to eradicate their common cold and so had no cure for the minor or the mutated illness. Typically, they let it run its course as was the way of humans for centuries; however, the new illness' course seemed to end in only one way: death.
All the known worlds, including the near-xenophobic Thraxians, were assisting in whatever way they could manage. Much to their dismay, the Thraxians discovered they were the only known race with immunity to the illness. Given their distaste for offworld travel, along with the growing New Thinkers movement, they were doubly unhappy when the Council of Known Worlds asked them to render assistance.
Knowing that refusal would lead to economic pressures from the Council and possible military disputes with the Ch'oran and their closest allies, the Thraxian government finally capitulated and sent several medical teams to Ch'oros' capital city, Raiks. They also sent researchers to assist in finding a way to eradicate the fleas; none of the Ch'oran methods worked but one and, sadly, the chemical was so deadly, it killed several dozen indigenous animals within the small section of the city used as a test area. The chemical had a long life and it took costly remedial measures to clean up that area before it spread to other parts of the city. If the chemical was deployed city-wide, it would eventually work its way over half the planet before losing potency. The effects would be devastating to the Ch'oran eco-system; almost as devastating as t
he new virus was to the Ch'oran themselves.
So far, the Ch'oran-Thraxian joint effort managed to stave off further deaths by using a Thraxian bio-stasis system modified for Ch'oran physiology. They were no closer to a cure, though the researchers thought they were on the verge of a breakthrough of a safe insecticide. Edgar's task was crafting an educational piece detailing the issue from inception to current date; it was for use as a teaching resource on a current events feed for children.
He ordered up a list of resources on the issue. As the HC was compiling the list, he ordered an alarm for one p.m. The system chimed and the list appeared onscreen. Edgar took a sip of coffee and dove into the first resource.
The chime sounded at one and Edgar started. He was absorbed in a scientific journal article on Ch'oran virology; he marked his place, stood and stretched. He was tempted to continue reading, but he learned long ago to balance his work time; too much time at the computer meant tense muscles, tired eyes, and wandering focus. Not to mention that mid-day was the perfect time for a run in Gridley Park.
A half hour later, stretching and prep done, Edgar jogged into the Park. It was such a lovely day, he decided to take his time and enjoy a longer run. The crowd was typical for a gorgeous day in Gridley; joggers, exercise groups, lunchers and those with children. He loved these daily runs; many of the people he saw were there every day, but there was always something new to enjoy.
Today was no exception; a duo of particularly handsome men, twins on closer examination, was practicing an amazing gymnastics routine. Some of the moves seemed impossible and Edgar found himself wondering what the two would be like in bed. He caught himself just in time to avoid knocking a slower jogger to the ground. The duo's routine was so impressive Edgar made an exception to his rule of not stopping and chose a shaded spot that offered him a great view of the gymnasts. He did a stretching routine of his own, not taking his eyes off the pair.
Edgar Aeternum, Book 1: Tales of Aeternal Love Page 7
