Spaceport: Forget Me Not

by Mikala Ash

  She came again and then again as his ruthless thrusting took him deep into her core. She was hanging onto his shoulders helpless against his anger and her own orgasm that sapped her energy and breath. Finally the spasm of her pussy translated to her ass and he came, shooting gluts of come deep inside her.

  He stepped away from the wall, she clinging to him still, and they toppled onto the bed. “Water,” she whispered huskily.

  The last thing Silas felt like doing was withdrawing his cock from her tight hot ass and going to the bar and getting a glass of water.

  A moment later a hand and glass of water appeared.

  The fucking guard had been inside the room all the time.

  "Fuck my ass again,” Kasamee said after she drank and handed the empty glass back. “Then I'll tell you how this is going to pan out."

  His cock stirred and he gripped her hips. To hell with the guard!

  * * * *

  "Calm down, Holly, for Phong's sake!"

  "Tell me you don't know where Maxim is."

  Zweep Dollavera took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I don't know where Maxim is."

  "So he's still alive."

  "What?"

  His surprise infuriated her. “You know he's alive. Otherwise you would have replied that he's dead, not that you don't know where he is."

  "Oh, Holly, listen to yourself, will you? You're hysterical. Clutching at straws like a mad woman. It's been months. I know you loved him, but let him go, please, let him rest, for all our sakes."

  "I will when you give me proof he's dead."

  "Do we have to go through this again? Felis found his ship. You saw it when we brought it in. It was fused solid. We stripped the bits centimeter by centimeter and all we found was his thumb. The rest of him is dissolved into the metal. He's gone, Holly. He's dead."

  "What's your connection to Mischa? Why didn't you tell me she was at the scene? She's a pirate, damn it! It was her ships that attacked Maxim!"

  "That's not true. They turned up after the event. They arrived at the same time the navy did, just as Felis returned to Maxim's ship. They were putting it in tow."

  "In tow?"

  "To bring it back here, they said. Felis took it off them. They were obliging. They were trying to do the right thing."

  "I bet. Don't you see, that's when they snatched Maxim!"

  "Don't be ridiculous. Why would they do that?"

  "Because...” She stopped short. She had no idea why.

  "Holly. I have to see this Murukan joker about leasing the showroom."

  "When was this lease thing arranged?"

  "One of their guys followed Felis back to Adana. He met me, said that Mischa had a traveling art exhibition and there were delays at their next planet so could we accommodate them for a month."

  "A month?"

  "That's what he said. Now, I have to get back to work. Holly, please do me and the rest of the family a favor. Go and get some grief counseling or something. You're hurting everyone else who loved Maxim with this silliness. They need to move on. Let them, let us get on with it."

  He turned his back on her and she wanted to scream at him. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to ... Was she being unreasonable? Whenever she felt like this, she knew that she was. She just couldn't help it. Deep in her soul she knew Maxim was alive. She was so obsessed with the idea, she was hurting the ones she and Maxim loved. “Zweep. Get Peridae and Lila off Adana. Silas thinks they are at risk, with the trial and all. He thinks Maxim was...” she hesitated, unable to say the word killed, “attacked to stop him being a witness in the trial and that the rest of us are in danger too."

  "I don't know who the fuck Silas is, but that occurred to me already. I sent them away two days ago."

  She opened her mouth but no words came. Two days? Why wait so long if he had suspected this? Maxim had been missing months. She was about to challenge him when she realized that the simple explanation was that he didn't trust Mischa either. Mischa arrived two days ago. He'd spirited the girls away at the same time the pirate bitch came to Adana.

  "Well,” she said at last. “That's a load off my mind."

  "We look after our own,” he said cruelly. “Look to yourself, Holly. You need help."

  She gritted her teeth at the insult. “Not as much help as whoever has Maxim. When I find them, I'm going to rip their hearts out."

  "Good luck,” he said sarcastically and closed the door in her face.

  "I trust your meeting went well?” Murukan asked without irony as she left the office.

  "As well as could be expected, I guess. Zweep's waiting to see you."

  "I will be setting up the exhibits with the artist. Perhaps you would like to do a story before the grand opening."

  "Perhaps I will,” she said. It would be one way of keeping the lines of communication with Mischa open. “We'll see."

  He grasped her hand and turning it slightly as he bowed, he kissed the soft flesh of her wrist. “I hope so."

  A wave of arousal swept over her as if she were in Maxim's strong arms. Her body warmed with a suffusive glow of desire. She found she was looking deeply into Murukan's deep brown eyes.

  She waved him away and set off down the corridor. She rounded the first corner when two sets of strong arms lifted her off the ground and carried her into a darkened access corridor. A big meaty hand clasped over her mouth prevented her from speaking. She resisted the urge to bite it, thinking that whoever had her wouldn't be too pleased.

  "Listen to me,” the gruff voice in her ear hissed. “We are being attacked. Our boys are being butchered. That bitch Mischa wants to take us over."

  She guessed these guys were representatives of the crime gangs who she had set her contacts chasing. Obviously, word had leaked out she was on their tail.

  "Stop pointing the finger at us. If we're not careful, that bitch will take over and she's worse than us, I assure you. Understand?"

  She nodded her head and the hand relaxed.

  "We overheard you and her slave talking. That was crap what he told you. Mischa was responsible for the massacre on Jackal. The miners revolted and her guys butchered them. I was there. I saw it. Scared the shit out of me. So remember, we're pussycats compared to her. If you cause us any more heat, we'll follow Mischa's example. Stay here. Do not follow us out. If you move inside ten minutes we'll shoot you where you stand. Got it?"

  She nodded, and the hand on her mouth disappeared and the footsteps receded into the darkness. “I need a beer,” she whispered to herself. Ten minutes later she was heading for the Haze Bar & Grill. A beer and a plate of ribs would go down just fine.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Eight

  "You called?"

  "I want to apologize."

  Silas sat down opposite her. “What for? I was the one out of line."

  "Whatever. I apologize and that's that. I had a visit from one of the gangs. Got roughed up a bit."

  "Phong's cunt! Which one?"

  "They didn't say. Probably representatives of all three. I'm having a voice analyzed now by one of my ‘Port Security contacts."

  He shook his head but he wore a wry smile of admiration. “You recorded him while he roughed you up?"

  She shrugged. “I'm a reporter."

  He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “What did he say?"

  "Said Mischa is making a move on Adana's organized crime. She's been killing their boys. They sounded shit scared to me."

  "I'd be too. She does have a reputation."

  "What do you know of Jackal?"

  "The duridium mine?"

  She nodded and drank her beer.

  "That looks good,” he said and waved down an arthropod waitress. “I'll have a beer and plate of ribs."

  "Sauce?"

  He glanced at Holly's plate. “Whatever she's having."

  "What were you saying?” he asked when his eyes settled back onto hers.

  "I asked you about Jackal."

  "Oh yea
h. Rich planet, slave economy. Hell of a place, literally."

  "There was a slave uprising?"

  "Oh yeah. Ruthlessly suppressed from what I hear. Why?"

  "My gangster friends said Mischa is tied up with it somehow. It was her thugs who suppressed it and massacred the slaves."

  "Doesn't surprise me. She's a bitch."

  "Apparently the artist Mischa is showcasing is from Jackal. He makes living statues from the empty husks of brain dead miners."

  "You're pulling my testicle."

  "I wish I was. I really do."

  "I might hold you to that one day."

  She realized what she had said and burst out laughing. “It wasn't an invitation. I'm not ready for anything like that.” She shot him a significant glance. “I may never be again."

  "I'm a patient man. I'll wait."

  She was going to tell him not to bother but his ribs and beer arrived. “These look good,” he said, pouring some Altaran sauce over them. “So, what's your next step?"

  "Muru ... Mischa's slave is setting up the exhibit. I'm going to do a story on the artist."

  "Where will that get you?"

  "Don't you see? They're doing it to keep me occupied. Giving me a free story is supposed to soak up my time."

  "To what end?"

  "I don't know. Muru ... the slave said they have hired the showroom for a month. So that sets the outer limit of whatever time frame they are working on. I figure the closer I am to them, the more I'm likely to find out their intentions. I just need to keep pushing."

  "What can I do?"

  "The gangs are afraid of her. I think they could be convinced to act against her if they thought they had ‘Port Security's blessing, even help."

  "I can be persuasive, but I think that may be beyond my skills."

  "Well, maybe convince them to help ‘Port Security nail Mischa with something. They must have evidence of her activities."

  He dabbed sauce from his chin. “Phong's arse, you know how to stir up trouble."

  She gazed thoughtfully at him, reminiscing about a similar meeting she'd had with Maxim when they'd first met. They'd had a staring competition over their ribs and Altaran sauce. “It's my nature."

  "Yeah, I know already. You're a reporter."

  * * * *

  After a quick sleep, shower and visit to the Adana Observer's office where she conducted a hurried conference with Roberta, she made her way to the Amalgamated Spaceport Guild of Scavengers’ Showroom on Level Seven. Murukan was there directing the chaos.

  "You're very good at this,” she told him after observing his quiet command of the bustling situation.

  "Making it up as I go along,” Murukan said with a glint in his eye.

  The showroom was awash with hundreds of grey cryogenic tanks being moved along with anti-grav lifters by a small army of android workers.

  "Maybe you were an art gallery administrator in your past life."

  He laughed. “Perhaps."

  She stood close to him, trying to get a sense of him. Everything about him was reminiscent of Maxim but, she admitted, only in a vague way, as if he was just a glimmer of memory of a long dead relative, similar but not quite the same as the original. She thought it curious that the feeling was strongest when she was close to him.

  I should be able to tell if it is him, shouldn't I?

  "Time for a break,” he said after manhandling a marble pedestal into position. “I need a caffee. Will you join me?"

  He was standing so close to her, his body radiating a strong heat that seemed to break over her like an ocean wave. Beads of sweat were on his forehead and she breathed in his scent.

  Surely this is Maxim!

  Excitement built up inside her. She had a hundred questions to ask but caution restrained her. She didn't want to be disappointed. She waited patiently while an android served them caffee at a small table in the corner of the showroom. “You were saying before that you have no memory beyond the last few months."

  "That's true."

  His eyes seemed to sparkle as he gazed at her and she quelled the excitement. “I think we have met before."

  "You do?"

  "Of course,” she said hurriedly, “your appearance is much different from ... my friend, but your mannerisms, the way you hold yourself and conduct yourself with others is so very like him."

  He leaned forward. “Who was he?"

  "I may be wrong,” she said.

  "If you can give me a clue as to my identity, I'd be most grateful."

  His eyes were hypnotizing and she felt as if she were falling into a dark well. She took a deep breath and her body flooded with desire. She suppressed the almost overwhelming desire to kiss his sensual lips and have him there and then.

  "You have no memory of me?"

  He stared at her intensely for a few moments. “I'm sorry, Holly, none at all."

  Disappointment slammed into her heart.

  "Do you think that Mischa is purposefully keeping your memory closed?"

  His expression hardened and she saw him fight down his immediate response. She realized that he was besotted, fixated, possessed by the pirate bitch.

  "I think not."

  "I find it hard to believe that you can't recover your memories. There are ways! What do the doctors say?"

  "They say I suffered severe neural disruption, brain damage, in the accident."

  Holly's heart froze mid beat. She reached out and grasped his wrist. “No!"

  "My memory centers, the ones associated with the sense of self, were damaged beyond regeneration. They restored me to full functioning, but only from the day I opened my eyes in Mischa's ship. That's the truth of the matter. Even if I was your ... friend, I'm afraid I'll never remember our time together."

  "Never?"

  "Holly, if this was a holo-vid and we were actors, you'd lean forward, brush your lips against mine and I'd suddenly remember who I was and what we had together..."

  She leaned forward and silenced him with a kiss. His lips were firm, and yielded under her insistent pressure. The kiss was long and hard and her head reeled with it.

  How could this not be Maxim?

  She released him from her lips and sat back, blinking away the tears.

  "I'm sorry, Holly. This is not a holo-vid."

  * * * *

  "There you have it, viewers. Far be it for me to try and dictate what is or isn't good taste to the thoughtful minds of Adana citizens. So, I'll leave it up to you to decide if this display of cadaveries, bodies which used to be people like you and I, slaves from the planet Jackal, whose minds have been erased and are now helpless puppets without the strings of consciousness, is worthy of your attention. Slaves they may have been once, but human beings they remain.

  "If you think this is the type of art suitable for Adana, then come down and see this exhibition, but if you believe this to be the very worst of human entertainment, then boycott this exhibition and let the Adana Council, the Chamber of Commerce and every other politician who relies on your vote for his or her livelihood know you want to have this travesty shut down. This is Holly Barberossa observing for the Adana Observer."

  Holly snapped her smartcam closed and took a deep breath. She didn't like what she'd just done. Supporting freedom of expression, the arts and the media to challenge ways of thinking and behaving was her deepest held belief, but some things just went too far. There had to be a line drawn somewhere. For Holly, the abuse of slaves, sentient or otherwise, had provided that line. One thing was certain, Mischa would not be pleased and Holly was sure she'd do something about it.

  She went to the office, checked in with Roberta and then decided a beer was in order to wash the taste of the cadaverie exhibition out of her mouth. As she made her way down to Level Six she was diverted to a shadowy maintenance corridor by a hissing sound and a rustle of clothes. For a moment Holly thought it was one of the gangs about to renew their warning.

  "Holly, over here."

  It was Murukan's voi
ce. She peered into the darkness to see him beckoning to her. “What is it?"

  "I need your help."

  "Sure, what can I do?"

  "I've run away. Your story angered Mischa greatly. She blamed me for telling you what really happened on Jackal. She wouldn't believe me. I'm afraid she'll kill me, or worse, hand me over to the artist."

  Guilt washed over her. Oh shit, what have I done?

  "I'm so sorry, Murukan. I had no idea she would blame you. My own sources gave me the true story of the slave revolt and Mischa's response to it."

  "She will kill me."

  Holly's mind was racing. “I'll take you to ‘Port Security."

  He shook his head. “I've tried but Janga has already dispatched her own people to block off any access to the authorities. She has local security people in her employ."

  "Damn it!"

  "Besides, I belong to Mischa. I am her property. A runaway slave has no rights."

  Despite his predicament Holly didn't sense fear. He was instead stoic, speaking calmly. “I will have to stow away on an outbound ship,” he said.

  At least he has a plan.

  "I know people who may be able to help."

  "I can't ask your friends to risk themselves for a stranger. I just need to hide for a day or two, then find a way to the docks."

  Holly shook her head. “That's too risky. The docks are the most secure place on Adana. You'll either need a big bribe for ‘Port officials or a slightly smaller one for the Earlobe gang."

  Holly considered going to Zweep but he was so tied up with Mischa she couldn't trust his scruples.

  "I want you to follow me to Maxim's apartment. No one will look for you there. You can lay low there till I make the arrangements."

  "I have no money."

  "I'll figure something out. Now, keep close."

  She took him in a roundabout way to Maxim's apartment, making sure she wasn't followed. Murukan walked behind her, disguised in a hooded cloak, and as far as she could tell didn't attract a single glance.