A Bar Room Brawl On Ganymede

by Robert Scanlon

  I’m not used to being ignored. “Hey!” This time I’m louder.

  One guy slowly turns around to face me. He says nothing, just stares.

  “I’m looking for the Blue Bar.”

  His face splits open in a grin, revealing missing teeth. “Then you’d best be following the blue lights, miss.” He gestures rudely with two fingers down the dark alleyway next to him, where sure enough, just as Bruno said, I see a faded trail of dingy blue lights leading away from us.

  “Thanks, pal.” I walk off.

  I hear him call after me. “Never been thanked for sending someone to the Blue Bar before.”

  I follow the lights, and I wonder what Jordi has got himself into. I can only hope that the bounty hunters haven’t found him first. Then again, if he’s jeopardized my own project, he’d better hope that they did.

  The blue lights lead to a closed door. There are no bouncers. There is no doorpad. I step back and inspect the outside, and decide there is only one thing for it. I walk up to the door, raise my hand to knock, but before I make contact, the door slides away to reveal a small mezzanine entry and a large club room below. Heavy music is pounding, and I can just make out a dense crowd getting down to the beat. I’m about to walk in, when a giant of a man steps in front of me. “Sorry, miss, invitation only.” He plants his hand on my chest, and pushes firmly. My electromagnetic boots break grip from the floor, and I go sailing backwards through the door, and crash against the opposite wall of the alley.

  I lie there for a moment to gather my thoughts.

  I have to use my remaining credits and trade my courier ship up to a lightCruiser. I have to get out of Ganymede, and I have to get 3He to kickstart my trading business.

  And I need Jordi’s help to do it.

  But he’s told me to meet him in the Blue Bar, and I’m not allowed in.

  I’m not sure I can do this on my own.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I pick myself up, thanking Ganymede’s low gravity for the lack of injuries, and take myself back toward the types lingering at the junction. I’m thinking maybe I can waste a few credits on these guys, and use them to get me into the Blue Bar.

  The guy I spoke to before sees me coming, and opens his mouth to talk. “Hey, never seen a woman leave the Blue Bar by herself—”

  A figure jumps in front of me before I can respond. The guy is swarthy, partially bald, with long, greasy, straggly black hair on either side of his bald head. He has beads of sweat all over his forehead.

  I try to shove him away but he pushes closer. I shove again, but once again he comes up close to me, and holds one finger in front of his lips to motion for silence. I decide to retaliate, and I move up close to him. Taller than he is, my chest presses against his neck.

  “I’m not offering you a free fondle. I want you to notice I have a plasma baton, and I also want you to know I’ve already used it twice today.”

  “I knew Frederic.” His eyes search mine for recognition.

  But I won’t give the game away that easily. “Who is Frederic?”

  His eyes widen and his mouth breaks into a smile. “Smart girl.” He leans in to me and I sway back, repulsed by his sweaty visage. “He’s your father,” he whispers. “We were friends.”

  “Prove it.”

  “The last time you were here, you were six, with your brother. His name is Michelangelo. Your father used to call you ‘the divine one.’”

  “So? It wouldn't be too hard to find that information. It still doesn't prove you were friends. You could have been his worst enemy and still known that.”

  “Then how about something more personal? Your father took you to my restaurant, and you tried Europan icewater mollusks for the first time.”

  How could I forget the other moon’s famous “delicacy”?

  I remain impassive. “If that’s true, what did I say?”

  The man looks unsure, as if he is recollecting something. Then he smiles again. “You said ‘It was like eating three slimy erasers fighting each other.’”

  I grimace. “It certainly was. How did you know my father?”

  Once again he holds up his finger to his lips and motions me into a dark doorway. He opens a door and gestures for me to go inside. I follow him.

  The door closes behind us and we’re in a small, sparsely furnished foyer.

  “Who are you?”

  The man indicates I should sit in one of two tub chairs. He takes a seat in the other. “Your father and I go back a long way. My name is Pedro. Frederic told me you’d be back someday.”

  “So how did you find me?”

  He shrugs. “This is a mafia moon. Anything is available at the right price. Speaking of which, what possesses you to visit the Blue Bar?”

  I tell him about Jordi, the bounty hunters, and that I need to clear out of Ganymede as soon as possible.

  Pedro regards me for some time before saying anything, then he stands, wipes his brow and takes a deep breath. “Then you better follow me. I can help you find Jordi, and maybe keep the bounty hunters away.”

  “And the Blue Bar? Can you get me in?”

  He grins. “Sure. I own the place.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The door to the Blue Bar slides away again, and the same guy confronts us. He immediately steps back when he sees Pedro. “Boss.” He dips his head in acknowledgment.

  “Anything I need to know, Tony?”

  The guy shoots a glance at me, then leans and cups his hands around Pedro’s ear. I don’t know why he thinks he needs to do that, the music is loud enough to obscure anything he says. I see Pedro nodding, glancing back at me, and then peering into the crowd below. The giant leans back and resumes his position, briefly acknowledges me with a nod, then ignores the both of us.

  Pedro takes me down to the main room in an open slo-lift next to the mezzanine, and we alight at the fringe of the so-called dance floor. Dancing in low gravity is more of an art. Just enough contact with the ground to maintain the electromagnetic connection, but just occasionally letting loose in the air, seeking to show off your best shimmy. It’s not something I do well.

  Pedro takes us into the middle of the crowd, and they press against us, jostling every side of our bodies. Then he stops and turns to me. He must see the fear in my eyes. He leans in close so I can hear him. “It’s okay. This is probably the safest place on Ganymede. No one cares what we talk about right here.”

  “What did he say?” I jerk my head back up to where the huge bouncer had stopped us.

  “He thinks your friend is here. But he also thinks that four bounty hunters followed him in.” He seems unsure of what to say next.

  “And?” I say loudly, over the noise of the crowd and the music.

  Pedro swallows. “And Fassbender.”

  I raise my eyebrows and shrug. “Fassbender?”

  “The guy he owes the money to. Someone not even I can protect him from.”

  He turns and pulls me further through the crowd, and into an empty private booth.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Pedro indicates that I should slide up next to him in the plush seating. I do so.

  I lean into him. “Where is he? I don’t see him.”

  “In a private room. I think he booked it to stay low profile.”

  I nod. Even though Jordi and I are strictly platonic as of a few months ago, I know he’s not the kind of guy to take himself into a private booth for pleasure. He might be an idiot sometimes, but he’s not a sleazebag.

  Pedro grabs my wrist. “Don’t look right away, but just keep smiling and looking at me. That’s Fassbender over there.” He flicks his eyes over to one of the side bars. “Keep smiling and laughing, then when you get a moment, glance around the room, and you’ll see a tall guy, with a black leather hat, and a pasty face. He may not look aggressive or intense, but believe me, no one tangles with Fassbender.”

  Pedro laughs, and I laugh too, as if he just told the funniest joke in the bar. The music pumps, and the dancing thr
ong continue their trance-like, slow-mo rhythm. The lighting is garish and changes color frequently, like some old discotheque on the holovid classics.

  I pull my gaze away from Pedro, and slowly pan around the room, smiling. I see the guy Pedro is referring to. He catches me looking at him, but I let my eyes move smoothly past him without any hint of recognition. Clearly the guy doesn’t miss much. My guess is he has picked up on Pedro arriving at his booth.

  A door not far to the right of us slides open, and who should emerge but Jordi. He looks around the room, and spies Fassbender, but doesn’t see us. Even in the lurid lighting, I notice Jordi swallow and hesitate for a moment. Nonetheless he begins to shove his way through the crowd toward the gangster.

  Pedro nudges me. He moves his head very slightly to the left. Out of the corner of his mouth he says, “Bounty hunters. Two at one end of the bar, one in the crowd, and one coming down the slo-lift.”

  I let my room gaze drift to where Pedro is indicating. I catch the movement of the bounty hunters. Anyone could see these guys don’t fit in. Then I wonder if everyone else is thinking that about me.

  “I need to do something about them.” I begin to stand, but Pedro pulls me back down.

  “Don’t be a fool. Let me take care of the bounty hunters. As for Fassbender …” He looks at me with sad eyes.

  My mouth tightens, and I acknowledge Pedro’s support. “Thanks. I may need a diversion.”

  Pedro smiles. “This is the Blue Bar. People come here for diversions.”

  I laugh as if Pedro had said something that made me immediately want to give up the rest of my life and spend it with him. I playfully push him away and stand up. I strut across to the side bar like a catwalk model, where I see Jordi in front of me, almost at Fassbender.

  Jordi reaches the man before I do, and I can see there is already discussion underway.

  I flounce up to Jordi, throw my arm around his neck, peck him on the cheek, and look at Fassbender. I smile.

  The man’s eyes are cold beneath his leather hat. He looks me up and down as if considering his next recruit. Jordi tries to struggle away from me, but I kiss him on the cheek again. “What?” I say, “too embarrassed that you got a girl? I thought we was supposed to meet up?” Jordi gives me a strange look, and shakes his head in a micro movement as if to warn me off. I widen my eyes at him slightly to signal my intention to stay put.

  “Who are you?” Fassbender asks. He speaks with the tone of someone used to getting an answer.

  I straighten up, pull away from Jordi and look Fassbender in the eye. I drop all pretense of my previous girly act. “Someone you will wish you never met.”

  Fassbender laughs. “Feisty! I admire that. I recommend you join me. Because very shortly, you’re going to be looking for work.”

  Then Fassbender drops his attention from me like a hot rock, and turns to Jordi. He grabs Jordi’s collar, and lifts him up easily in the low gravity. “Where are the credits?” he says, in a voice devoid of any emotion. “I’ll take a finger for every minute delay.” Appearing from nowhere, a switchblade is in Fassbender’s hand and rests on Jordi’s pinky finger. I don’t think Jordi could turn any whiter.

  I thrust myself in between them and shove Fassbender’s hands away, leaving Jordi to sink back to the floor.

  “Did I not tell you I’m someone you wish you had never met?” I have my hand inside my jerkin ready to pull out the plasma baton. I’m conscious that, although the music is still playing, the party-goers closest to us have sensed the drama, stopped their gyrations, and are gathering around to witness the unfolding event.

  But I don’t have time to notice much more, because Jordi has shoved me away and I’m flying sideways into the crowd.

  “Stay out of this. It’s under control,” Jordi calls after me.

  I hear a crash, loud enough to hear over the music. There is a commotion on the other side of the dance floor, and already several people are scrapping it out in the low gravity, albeit with difficulty. The smart ones have anchored themselves to points on the bar and are using any remaining limbs to lash out at those who have not managed to be so smart. I see the less than smart ones are two of the bounty hunters. They seem to be having their bounty kicked out of them.

  One of the assailants is Tony, the giant of a man I met at the door. I pick myself up off the floor and look over the heads of the crowd, and catch Pedro’s eye, as he moves toward the bounty hunter at the other end of the bar. Pedro winks at me. I smile briefly, then turn back to Jordi and Fassbender, who are encircled by the crowd Jordi shoved me through. I push my way back to them.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I am almost through the throng and am about to brace myself for another confrontation. I can see Jordi arguing rapidly with Fassbender. Fassbender’s face is stoic.

  I ready myself to wade in, when a strong hand grabs my shoulder and pulls me back. I try to shake the hand off, turn and am face-to-face with the giant. How did he get here so quickly?

  “Pedro needs you.” His vice-like grip on my shoulder leaves me no choice but to propel myself along with him. I wonder what can be so urgent to pull me away from rescuing Jordi. The crowd parts to allow us through. I cast a glance over my shoulder, to see how Jordi is faring with Fassbender. Fassbender is still listening.

  I manage to resist my urge to intervene, and turn back to follow my escort.

  The ruckus with the bounty hunters looks to be all over and they are nowhere to be seen. We find Pedro leaning against the bar. He nods at me. “Some guy just showed up asking for you.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Me? By name?”

  “Not so much. Actually, he said, ‘if there is a girl here who had a run-in with Bruno the Bad, I may have some information for her.’”

  “For real?” I narrow my eyes at Pedro, who shrugs his shoulders.

  “My guys say he is. Either way, we should check it out.”

  I look back at Jordi and hesitate. The discussion looks to be heated, but I no longer see the switchblade.

  “Let him work it out for himself. I’ll make sure they don’t go anywhere.” Pedro jerks his head toward a side door, and we move across, the giant following behind.

  Pedro slaps a doorpad, the door slides back to reveal a small alleyway, and a scrawny guy held between two medium-size giants. He looks scared, but determined.

  “Who are you looking for?” I say. I scan the guy’s face, and study his expression. His face is pinched, and sports several scars down the left side of his face, probably from a knife fight. His eyes dart from side to side, then back to me.

  “I’d rather not have an audience, miss.” He stands his ground and holds my gaze.

  “Then I’ll need proof that you have anything of value for me. Before I pay any money.”

  The guy ducks his head forward, looks from side to side, then says in a very quiet voice. “I believe you’re looking for some information about who killed your father? Information that you might be prepared to pay for.”

  I say nothing, just study the guy for a while. He doesn’t seem like any threat to me, so I turn to Pedro and nod briefly. Pedro acknowledges my request and motions his men to leave. He looks at the guy and speaks softly. “I knew her father well. Whatever you say to her, you can say to me.” Pedro glances at me and waits.

  “How much?” I ask.

  The guy licks his lips. “200,000 credits.”

  I pull out my datapad. “Hundred thousand now, and the other hundred thousand once you tell me the information.”

  The guy laughs nervously. “Yeah, right. The old trick. Once you’ve got it, why would you still give me the rest of the money?”

  I regard him coolly. “You’ll just have to trust that I’m a more decent human being than most of the others you’ve been snitching to, won’t you?” I wait, my hand poised above the datapad.

  The guy looks around again, looks back at me for a moment, then nods. “I guess it’s a deal.”

  He gives me the codes, and I transfer t
he money. In reality, I’d pay a million credits to find out who killed Papa.

  “Now spill.”

  “Your father traded the underground energy markets.”

  “You think I don’t know that?”

  “Yeah, well. He made some enemies along the way. One guy didn’t see eye-to-eye with your old man, so he had him killed.”

  “That’s it? A hundred thousand credits, and some guy who didn’t see eye-to-eye had my father killed? I need more than that. A name, or I’ll add some more decoration to your face.” I stuff the datapad back in my pocket and reach forward to grab the guy, but he holds both hands up, imploring me to stop.

  “There’s more.”

  “There had better be. Otherwise I paid a hundred grand for the privilege of balancing your make-up.”

  The guy pales. “His name is Sloper. The one who killed your father. He’s a trader.”

  “Sloper? Is that a first name or a last name?”

  “He only has one name. It’s not one that folks like to mention. He had more than a few run-ins with Jackson, and so he had him killed. Just so he could take over his energy trades.” He lowers his eyes, then looks back up at me. “Miss?” He waits.

  I motion for him to continue.

  He clears his throat. “If it were me, and this is like free advice, you know. Not for the credits.”

  I shrug.

  “I wouldn’t even think about going for him. Sloper has everyone in his pocket.”

  Like that ever stopped me before.

  “And?” I say.

  “He has an offsider. An assassin. His name is Darpesh.”

  “And where will I find this Sloper?”

  The guy spreads his hands. “Anywhere there are blackmarket energy deals. All the old hands know him and where he might be.” He shifts on his feet. “Because they prefer to be somewhere where the guy isn’t.”

  I pull the datapad back out. “I made a promise. Here’s your remaining hundred thousand.” I make the transfer and hold the guy’s gaze for a while. “As soon as you hear of Sloper’s whereabouts, get a message to me. I’ll take that as a bonus.”