Priest and Pariahs

by J. Alan Veerkamp

  Since the mess in the engine room, Danverse spent most of his free time in seclusion with Mac, the shame in wounding Arbor having cut him deep. The captain brushed off the implication when Mac confronted him, but he knew his man well enough to know when he was lying. He even lied when Mac found him watching a restricted feed of McQuillen, Arbor, and Priest talking in sick bay during Arbor’s recovery—plotting.

  “Does this have anything to do with that restricted security vid from sick bay?”

  The captain continued to pack without looking up. “I didn’t say that.”

  Mac dropped his bag to the floor and circled over to Danverse. “Holy shit. They’re really going to do it.”

  “We don’t know that. I’m just giving the crew enough time to do whatever they need to do.”

  “I read McQuillen’s medical report Bosch sent you. Can he still pull this off?”

  “You shouldn’t have been reading over my shoulder.”

  Mac felt guilty. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing when he looked, but once he did, it was too late to unsee. Passenger and crew confidentiality was something he tried to be mindful of, given how small their community was. Everyone knew a little too much about each other as it was on the Santa Claus.

  “Marc, this isn’t small. This is serious. What do we do if this all goes tits up?”

  “Pray that it doesn’t.” Danverse placed the last item in his bag and fastened it. “Mrs. Claus, delete all forms of data, security, and otherwise linked to passenger Costa McQuillen. Captain’s privilege.”

  “Do you wish to include restricted feeds in this initialization, Captain Danverse?”

  Mac froze. Deleting files and documentation was highly illegal in the face of a government security audit. If the group’s escapade blew up, it could be traced back to the ship, and Mac didn’t want to think what would happen then. If the captain was willing to go to this extent, he must have some kind of premonition on how this might end. The thought alone left him cold.

  Danverse took a deep breath and answered. “Yes, Mrs. Claus. Costa McQuillen was never on board. Authorization code Omega-376-Gamma.”

  “ARE YOU SURE it’s him?”

  Costa sighed. He hated repeating himself. “Yes, Priest. He’s the only employee in that part of the lab whose personnel file marks him as non-hetero and single.”

  Priest dipped the grilled meat strip into the sauce on the left—it was the only one making the dish edible. If he weren’t keeping his eye on the man eating across the dining room, he wouldn’t touch this poor excuse for bar food. The sloppy man munched alone on a plate of pasta, sauce stains gone unnoticed on his poor fitting shirt buttoned up to his throat. His hair was wild with unkempt dark curls. Patches of unshaven growth did nothing to enhance his rounded, ruddy face.

  “He looks like a scientist.”

  “That would be because he is a scientist. There are times when people live out their own stereotypes, even in this age. So which one of us do you think he’ll respond to?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know when he goes to the bathroom.”

  Costa sat close to give the impression the two of them were together. They spent a great deal of time having a drink at the bar to burn time until the nerdy guy arrived. Now they were having a quiet dinner of dubious food in this cheap restaurant, simply waiting. At least Costa managed to not balk at the quality of the cuisine.

  “How were you so sure you could lure him here?”

  Priest took a swig of his ale—the only palatable item he’d found so far. “Arbor went through his personal data accounts. He’s signed up for a bunch of restaurants’ promotional programs, including this one. With the number of places he’s signed up for, he’s a cheap ass looking for a deal. I had Arbor com him a forged gift certificate for a free meal that expires tonight.”

  “You really do surprise me sometimes. You can be quite devious when you put your mind to it.”

  “I’ve run a scam or two in my time.”

  “Do they usually succeed?”

  “Sometimes. If they’re well planned out.”

  “I wouldn’t have expected you being capable of such subterfuge.”

  Priest shrugged. “I guess I’m not as stupid as you say I look.” Costa averted his eyes. “It’s okay. You’re not the first person to say it. Stop looking so down. We’re supposed to look like we’re on a date.”

  “I can imagine Arbor isn’t overly thrilled by this charade. It is a charade, isn’t it?” Costa’s brow arched as he placed his hand on Priest’s forearm.

  Not wanting to break the facade of a happy couple, Priest didn’t move his arm as he leaned forward to whisper in Costa’s ear. “Believe it or not, it is a charade.”

  Shifting back in his seat, Priest took another bite of his heavily sauced meat stick, trying not to grimace. Costa’s shoulders shifted subtly and his smile leveled a small amount. He looked somehow…disappointed?

  Even if it were the case, he would simply have to deal with it. Once upon a time, Priest imagined what fun could be had with Costa and Arbor in the same bed together, and he’d be lying if the idea didn’t flash through his thoughts from time to time. But now, it wasn’t the goal. Sex with Costa came with a price. It would cost him Arbor. The risk wasn’t worth it anymore.

  “Tell me, Priest, and I don’t mean to be rude, but what exactly do you see in that little man?”

  The scientist was working through a second helping of his all-you-can-eat meat basket. Maybe they shouldn’t have given the guy the best deal this place had to offer, but they needed the enticement. This would take longer than Priest wanted, but they had no choice.

  “You don’t really want to hear this.”

  Costa rubbed his temple, signaling the start of a headache. The circles under his eyes, as well as his facial tattoos, were barely hidden by cosmetics. “I must be completely mental for saying so, but yes, yes I do.”

  “Arbor’s smart as hell, but he’s never looked down at me. He treats me like a treasure. He makes me feel special. Even when we argue, we’re waiting to make up. And when he almost died, it was like someone up there was telling me I didn’t deserve him. I make a lot of mistakes and say the wrong thing when I don’t think. I need to do better by him. So now all I want to do is spend my time making him feel as special as he makes me.”

  “But here you are with me right now.”

  “Don’t be a bitch. This isn’t a real date, Costa. You know that. That part of you and me is over. I’m helping my friend, because he needs it and because I feel like part of all of this is my fault. I don’t walk out on my people just because some shit went down between us.”

  The aristocratic stiffness in Costa’s frame disarmed itself as a ghost of a pleasant smile graced his lips. He settled back in his chair and regarded Priest, vaguely awestruck. Could that be possible? It seemed unlikely, but here they were.

  “I think for the very first time, I’m actually finding myself somewhat jealous of the little sod.” Costa’s eyes narrowed a touch as he leaned forward. “If you tell him I said anything of the sort, I’ll deny it even as I beat you to death in front of your entire crew.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s beat my ass in front of them.”

  They waited patiently as the scientist sucked down a third complimentary drink. Priest chose a table in line to the restroom for a reason. It would all be a waste if the guy didn’t wash up after his meal.

  Their food was almost cold when the scientist swiped the panel embedded in the table to signal the end of his meal, stood, and walked toward the restroom. The cheap little shit didn’t even tip the server. Priest gave Costa a quiet signal and both men glanced at the guy as he walked past. As he entered the restroom, the scientist’s gaze roamed over Priest and barely acknowledged Costa.

  “It would appear the next act of this play is in your hands.” Costa didn’t appear pleased. Being dismissed didn’t sit well with him.

  Priest snickered as he stood and brush
ed off his hands. “I guess he’s not into twinks. Don’t wait too long.”

  With a strengthening inhale, Priest entered the washroom. Thankfully, no one else was inside, making everything much easier. He rounded the stalls and found the scientist at one of the pair of urinals. He stiffened in surprise when Priest took the spot next to him. Unzipping his pants, Priest made sure the guy got a good look, gave him a polite nod, and relieved himself. The ale he had earlier helped.

  “How you doing?” Priest looked the guy over.

  “I’m okay.” The guy kept taking surreptitious glances in Priest’s direction and didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave when he finished.

  Priest made a show of shaking off and hefting himself back into his pants when he finished. The scientist was skittish and mesmerized. The pair washed their hands, taking their time as Priest made a point to stand just a tad too close. The scientist was beginning to breathe harder, and it wasn’t from fear.

  When the guy turned—perhaps to leave—Priest made a point to press against him, molding his torso against the man who looked starved for attention. The scientist froze, unwilling to leave, as he locked his eyes on Priest. Brushing the back of his knuckles over the guy’s chest, Priest felt the nipple harden under his shirt.

  This guy was overheating fast, and Priest felt like a shit for doing this to him. Arbor didn’t like this part of the plan either, but mugging the guy was out of the question. Violence was not Priest’s method and would only stir up trouble with the authorities. He hoped Costa wouldn’t wait too long.

  Priest aligned his larger body over the guy, causing a needy gasp to fill the empty restroom. Tremors filled the scientist as Priest began running his hands over the man’s torso and arms. The telltale erection poking him in the hip couldn’t be missed.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Spaniard?” Costa shouted as he burst into the restroom.

  Priest jumped back and put up his hands. “We weren’t doing nothing, baby.”

  Costa rushed forward and slapped Priest—hard. The scientist squirmed to get past, but Costa blocked his path and pressed himself close. “And just where do you think you’re going, you fucking tart?”

  The scientist was trembling so hard, he wasn’t aware of Costa’s hands zipping through his pockets.

  “Leave him alone, baby.” Priest laid his hand on Costa’s shoulder as if to restrain him.

  Costa slapped his hand away. “Don’t you, baby me, you slag. How many times do I have to find you with your cock in some low life twat?” Snarling, Costa gave the scientist a small shove. “I don’t know who you think you are, but if I ever find you near him again, I’ll remove your bollocks.”

  Grabbing Priest by the collar, Costa directed them out of the restroom. Without missing a step, they gathered up, the scientist not looking at either of them as he made a hasty exit.

  “I didn’t tell you to slap me.” Priest hoped the burn on his cheek wasn’t bright red. If Costa never slapped him again it would be too soon.

  “I improvised to add a moment of authenticity to my performance.”

  Priest helped Costa put on his jacket. “It felt very authentic. You’re better at this than I would have expected.”

  “You’re not the only one who’s been forced to do what’s necessary to survive.”

  “Did you get it?”

  Costa leaned into Priest, making an appropriate show of his hand in his pocket. “Of course I did.”

  Priest placed his hand at the small of Costa’s back and led him toward the door. “Then let’s get out of here.”

  THE VEHICLE PARK was well lit, but Arbor was still apprehensive. He was well healed, but anxiety left an odd tension in a line down his face and chest. He’d been cleared for duty, but it would be some time before he felt what passed for normal once again.

  Thankfully the vehicle only used handheld controls to drive, because his feet wouldn’t reach the floor and having the modifications added to the rental would have drawn too much attention. Costa had forged the identification—he was very skilled—so the craft should be untraceable in the end. Even so, the seat was pushed as far forward as it could be to accommodate him. It was annoying but manageable.

  The capital city of Omoikane was filled with buildings more industrial than beautiful in an artistic sense, but they had a charm for their functionality. Everything was sleek and tall with a floor plan like a circuit grid. In one of Costa’s rare moments of excitement, he told them the streets were composed of a honeycomb of durable, programmable panels, allowing the pavement to be rewritten as necessary with high visibility lines and directionals.

  What he wouldn’t give for a closer look, but the impending excursion ruined the sightseeing. Waiting the last two hours was excruciating and nerve-racking. If he found out Priest and Costa were sitting in the restaurant having a good time while he was stuck out here, he’d kill them both.

  Arbor knew Priest chose him over the beautiful para-human. He knew it. But some doubts were harder to quash than others. Why else would he have offered his help?

  A chime emitted from his handheld sitting in the passenger seat. It was time to pick up the boys. He wished he could have gone in with them, but they needed to be less obvious. Priest protested when Arbor pointed out how a dwarf stands out in a crowd and they didn’t need everyone’s eyes on them. It made him feel good that Priest wanted to keep him close, but a small amount of anonymity was necessary.

  The craft started and Arbor guided it with a smooth glide to the lot next to the restaurant where Priest and Costa waited, looking as nonchalant as possible. It looked like they were on a date. Arbor hated it. He set the transport down and Costa immediately disengaged and jumped into the back.

  Arbor shifted over to the passenger side, as Priest grunted trying to get into the driver’s seat. Keeping his mouth tight to contain the impending laughter, Arbor watched him adjust the seat and climb in.

  The door slid shut and Priest leaned over and placed an affirming kiss on his lips. “How are you feeling?”

  The feel of Priest’s hand stroking the back of his head washed out the jealousy and made Arbor almost giggle. “Fine. Bosch gave me a clean bill of health over a week ago. Stop fussing.”

  A loving smirk curled Priest’s lips. “I can’t help it.”

  With a few effortless touches of Priest’s hands, the rented craft rose from the street level and shifted into traffic.

  Arbor looked at Costa over his shoulder. “You snatched the ID pieces you need?”

  Costa examined the scientist’s stolen security card in his fingers bearing the logo of Forethought Industries. “Once I’ve read his key, I can fool the palm scanner into reading his DNA ID that’s encoded on it.”

  “How can you remember that kind of complex information?”

  “A photographic memory is a byproduct of my abilities. The skill has saved me on more than one occasion.”

  City lights played their games inside and out of the vehicle, casting their garish marks in patterned lines and twisting the shadows into something alive. If their itinerary wasn’t so serious, they might have been able to enjoy the spectacle.

  “We can get into the lab, but how are we going to keep from being spotted by security systems?” Priest caught Costa's eye using the mirror. “The setup in that place is no joke.”

  “I have that covered.” Arbor raised his handheld pad. “I’m using Swaden’s trick to make the systems ignore us once we’re inside. It’s a kind of digital camouflage. It should keep from drawing any attention to us better than directly hacking sensitive software.” Arbor noticed the narrowed eyes Costa directed at him. “Sorry. Swaden may have been a totally deranged Nazi, but he was fucking brilliant. Normally I wouldn’t stoop to his tactics, but we need it.”

  “You used his information and tactics to incapacitate me in the engine room quickly enough. Although I have to admit, it was very clever and underhanded.”

  “You didn’t exactly leave me with much choice.”

>   Costa nodded and shrugged in some silent form of acceptance. “After everything that’s happened, I have to admit I’m surprised you’re willing to assist me, Arbor.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve spent a lot of time bitching about my crappy life, but yours was way worse than mine could ever be. You’ve done some shitty things, but once you spilled your guts I knew your motives were honest. I can forgive some things.”

  “And the fact that once this is done, I’ll be off the ship and away from Priest wouldn’t be influencing your decision at all?”

  Arbor grinned. “That’s a bonus.”

  Costa leaned forward and gave Priest a rough poke in the shoulder. “And with regards to what you refer to so colorfully as spilling of my guts. I’m not particularly thrilled that you interrogated me while under the influence.”

  “Please. You evaded all of Bosch’s questions when he tried. You were begging to confess and needed an excuse. Suck it up.”

  Wrapping his arms around his chest, Costa pouted and slumped back in his seat. Even the shadows moving about the car in the night couldn’t hide the severity of the lines in Costa’s face. Was he unhappy, or was the stress of his burden taking more of a toll than he was letting on? Could it be both?

  WHENEVER PRIEST IMAGINED being involved in a deal of this scale, he thought it would be a grand affair. It would be daring and exciting, and the payoff would be so sweet.

  Unnerved and guilty were the emotions plaguing him now.

  Acquiring the key card worked exactly as expected—too well in fact. Once upon a time, hitting on the scientist to gain something wouldn’t have fazed him. It would have been fun. But now all he felt was dirty.

  Before he found himself on the Santa Claus, money became thin when the military downsized after the Civil War. Work was in short supply, with an influx of unemployed soldiers. Priest was forced to do a few unsavory things to afford food and the cheap accommodations he could manage. Sometimes it didn’t work out, but that was the challenge and the rush.