by James Chalk
The Meat Market
“Cyborg Spell Shop”
On Harkon Colony, the potions and charms for sale at “Master Wu’s Spells and Spare-Ribs” are only illusions created by mind-hacker, Will Ozwald. Even so, his customers want love and love is no illusion. Will keeps saying no, but one particularly dangerous customer isn’t listening.
“The Twelve Children Of Christmas”
When Jonathan’s Christmas good deed goes awry, Baihu comes to his rescue. Can she get to Jonathan in time and will she be able to save the children? In this family friendly Christmas tale, Baihu, Jonathan Harkon’s very special tiger, gets her own adventure.
The Meat Market
A Jonathan Harkon Adventure
by James Chalk
Copyright © 2013 by James Chalk
This is a work of fiction meant for mature audiences. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America. First Printing, 2013. Edited by Samantha Diefenbach. Cover design by Humblenations.com
www.JamesChalkBooks.com
Dedication
For my family.
Follow your heart it will take you places.
Table of Contents
Promotions
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Preface
A Big Knife
Three Hot Nurses
Crazy Blue Eyes
Peripheral Damage
Welcome Back Johnny
A Foul Undertaking
Blood On The Rug
It’s All About The Dog
Off To See The Bishop
Who Let The Cat Out?
Fort Leakey
The Meat Factory
Epilogue
Also By James Chalk
About The Author
Preface
This is the first of the Jonathan Harkon Adventures. Jonathan’s stories and all of my other stories take place in the same imagined future - a future in which most of the solar system has been colonized in a tremendous expansion known as the Great Solar Diaspora. Massive space habitats house anywhere from hundreds of thousands to billions of people. The colonies vary greatly in size and design, in politics, in technology, and in religion and faith. I hope that you will enjoy this glimpse into my vision of the future.
Space colonization may be science fiction today, but tomorrow it will be a reality. Our precious planet is quickly running out of resources. Mother Nature’s ability to filter and process pollutants can not keep up with our output. We are learning to live in ways that are more ecologically sound. We are developing technologies to mitigate the impact of our growth. But conservation can only go so far. Each year our medical technology improves, resulting in longer lifespans and fewer deaths from illness and accidents. Where will all the people go? Will we discourage procreation? Make it illegal? I doubt that would last long. It would certainly violate individual liberties at a fundamental level.
Either we limit our growth, or we expand off this planet. If you ask me, our path is clear. The sooner we colonize our solar system the better. We don’t need to terraform planets. We don’t need to be on planets with their deep, expensive gravity wells. We can build our own habitats in space, but we need to get started before it is too late! The materials are out there in vast abundance. We have the technology to begin and we can develop the rest while we do it. All we lack is the will and the willingness to cooperate.
Thanks to everyone who supported me in the writing process and to everyone who reads this. I especially want to thank my fantastic editor. From conception to publication, Samantha was by my side. Her advice and guidance helped form each chapter. I’m tempted to list her as a second author. The story is much better because of her input. I also want to thank Rachel and Kathy for their very important and valuable suggestions and analysis. You both improved the story. I also need to thank my Mom. She is an amazing writer and illustrator of children’s stories. She taught me all the things I do well when writing and is not responsible for my failings. Long ago, she told me to always ask my characters what they would do. Since then, I have learned to trust their, often surprising, answers. Thanks Mom, it works! Finally, I would be remiss if I left my wonderful wife off the list. Without Monique, I would never have achieved any of my goals. I am amazed that I was lucky enough to find such a supportive, caring woman to spend my life with.
The Meat Market
Chapter 1
A Big Knife
“Let marriage be held in honor among all, and let the marriage bed be undefiled, for God will judge the sexually immoral and adulterous.” - Hebrews 13:4
“The fight is won or lost far away from witnesses, behind the lines, in the gym, and out there on the road, long before I dance under those lights.” - Muhammad Ali
“If you fail to take advantage of your enemies’ collapse, they may recover.” - Miyamoto Musashi
*******
It was the biggest damn knife I’d ever seen and it still looked small in the guy’s hand. Carla, the weapons check girl, slammed the security window closed, leaving me alone to deal with the giant. Not for the first time, I asked myself, “What the fuck am I doing here?”
Sanctity is a pretty strange place with some pretty strange laws, one of which is that non-citizens can only visit under work visas. The minimum duration for a visa is ninety days. So there I was stuck for two more months working security at the sleaziest bikini bar in all of Sanctity. Yup, you heard me, a “bikini bar!” No, I didn’t mean to say “titty bar.” Public nudity is a major no no on Sanctity. And, don’t even bother to ask about “fuck-bars“ or “sexnasiums,” those places only exist in the more progressive colonies.
So you might wonder, “with no nudity and no sex, how do they attract business?” Are you fucking kidding me? There is plenty of nudity and sex, just not on stage or in the main bar. They have little back rooms for “private dances.” The little religiopricks pay big bucks for those illicit “private” moments. Damn hypocrites if you ask me! Most of them are married and old enough to be the dancers’ fathers. And I’ll tell you something else - there ain’t noth’n private about it! The bar’s got a full array of recording sensors in every room. That’s one Sensostream a lot of mid level religiopricks will pay to keep their wives from experiencing.
The only reason some big wig hasn’t shut the bar down is the VIP Lounge. Whatever goes on in there is really private. As in, I had absolutely no clue. Only the local, permanent security team works the VIP Lounge’s private entrance and all employees are discouraged from discussing or even noticing the comings and goings of those most special patrons. Sex, drugs, gambling, whatever; it’s all illegal on Sanctity and it’s all over the place!
That’s the real reason I was visiting Sanctity. They have a long list of contraband items including, believe it or not, condoms. That’s right, those religiopricks outlawed what could be mankind’s finest achievement: birth control. Don’t ask me why. I don’t really understand the faith-frozen mind. But hypocrisy, now that I understand. The dirtier they make sex, the more they want it, and the dirtier it really becomes. Smuggling them condoms is a fucking public service. Besides, I need the money. Selling in bulk on Sanctity’s black market, I make one hundred credits for
every credit I invest.
Getting back to the giant with the big-ass knife (or the big ass with the giant knife), he was waving the knife around yelling about his right to carry weapons. This was true, but it still wasn’t getting him in the bar. On Sanctity weapons are more common than underwear and perfectly legal, thus Carla’s security window. She had already explained several times, “The bar is private property and, regretfully, must exercise its right to insist that all of its patrons check their weapons.” Now it was my turn.
I tried for de-escalation. “Peace, sir. I’m sure we can achieve harmony if you please calm down. I apologize about the inconvenience. You are frightening the young lady. We don’t want her to panic and hit the big red button. It activates a gatling laser. If you’ll just hand me your knife…”
“Fuck you, you little Earth Hugger! She ain’t gonna burn us both. Anyways I’m a gon fuck’n cut you first boy,” bellowed the irrational giant just before slashing at me with his damn machete or whatever it was.
Once again I asked myself, “What the fuck am I doing here?” In an instant, my mind tumbled back through the years and I was in the training hall with Uncle Thomas. The sound of crickets and a babbling brook was just loud enough to entrance without intruding on concentration. The air was cool, but thick and redolent of redwood and cedar. The walls were set to provide images of a primeval forest. The illusion was complete.
I was standing on a platform in the middle of the forest. Uncle Thomas’ favorite enviro-settings fit him perfectly. He was a tree trunk of a man with a big barrel chest, huge thighs on his long legs, and arms that were as thick as the tree branches he so adored. I was a young man whose destiny would never include a seven foot tall body with canoes for feet and hands the size of frying pans. Uncle Thomas was teaching me about reach and how useful it can be in combat. His methods were, let’s say, memorable.
We faced off in the middle of the hall in our sweats and he was repeatedly striking my body, arms, and legs with a bamboo stick. Each strike hurt like hell and would later welt and bruise. I didn’t even have my own stick to defend with, not that that would have made much difference. Even with a stick in my hand and my arm at full extension, I would have to step well into his swing range to just touch him. I felt hopelessly out classed.
“Are you just going to stand there and let me whup you, boy? Afraid because I’m big? If this were a knife or sword you’d be dead already. When the palace assassin comes for you, you gonna stand there and look at how big he is?”
“Sun Tzu said, You can prevent your opponent from defeating you through defense, but you cannot defeat him without taking the offensive. Victory is reserved for those who are willing to pay its price. Or, as Yoda said, Do or do not, there is no try!” Uncle Thomas had a fondness for ancient literature and something called “Vids,” kind of like Sensostream, but only for the eyes.
With that said, he swept my feet and landed with his knee on my chest and the stick across my windpipe. “Come back tomorrow and take the stick away from me, Jonny,” he said before giving me a quick kiss on the forehead and rising to his feet. From my back, still gasping for air, I watched him stroll casually from the hall.
I snapped back to the present. Despite knowing that this was not my first giant and that I had eventually taken that stick from my uncle, I was still afraid. This was real and a big fucking knife wielded by a big fucking man is no small thing. I banished my doubts, my thoughts. There is no try…
The knife was in his right hand and he was leading with the same leg. I avoided his first slash by stepping back and then observed his predictable back swing. He stepped forward to close the distance and slashed again. This time, confident that my body armor would protect me if I screwed up, I just swayed my upper body back without giving ground. The knife whistled as it sliced past my chest. A spray of blood hit my face, surprising the fuck out of me. I guess I didn’t have the timing quite right. The knife had sliced through my over-shirt and then through my combat-weave tee.
Damn. Not only was it big; that knife had to have a monofilament edge. Nothing else would cut through my tee like that! With no time to worry, I surged forward, stuffing his knife arm. A voice saying He who hesitates is lost was screaming in my head. With my left leg firmly planted, I drove my shoulder into his stomach. Yup, he was that tall. Simultaneously, I snaked my right leg behind the giant’s legs. On our way down to the ground, I searched for his knife hand. I had to have control of that hand before he recovered from the fall or things were not going to be pretty. It was easy to find as he flung his right arm back reaching for the ground and pinning me beneath his arm and shoulders.
Double damn. Things were just not going as I had choreographed it in my mind. In the I Ching it says, When the Way comes to an end, then change - having changed, you pass through. It was definitely time for a new tactic. I swiveled my body around, shrimping my hips into position so that his upper arm was between my legs, his elbow a little above my crotch. He was still holding the knife, but I ignored it and grabbed his wrist with both of my hands. With all the force I could muster, my legs shot up and down, their backside slamming onto the giant’s face. Meanwhile, I thrust my hips toward the ceiling and pulled down on his wrist.
I felt his elbow give way against my body at the same moment that I heard the terrible crack. His screams didn’t start for at least another five seconds of stunned silence, during which time I got up and collected my new knife with the most excellent blade. No wonder he didn’t want to give it up.
Chapter 2
Three Hot Nurses
“I generally avoid temptation unless I can’t resist it.” - Mae West
“Nothing makes it easier to resist temptation than a proper bringing-up, a sound set of values, and witnesses.” - Franklin P. Jones
“… and though authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft led by the nose with gold.” - William Shakespeare
*******
The slice in my chest wasn’t very deep, a bunch of skin and muscle but not down to the bone. I guess it’s better to be lucky than good, but damn it, I usually am good! That never should have happened. I was sloppy and arrogant and it could have gotten me dead. Shit.
The good news was that I was treated to the ministrations of the three hottest ‘nurses’ known to man. Carla and two of the dancers dragged me off to one of the private rooms with a first aid kit while one of the ‘real’ security guys contacted the local authorities.
I didn’t really need first aid. Back home, biotech is legal and commonplace. I’m fully up to date on my nano-boosters. But, I couldn’t let on about that without risking imprisonment or even execution. The high clergy of Sanctity ruled that all medical applications of nanotechnology, along with most body modifications, are abominations against God. Something about man being made in God’s image, I don’t know? You’ll have to ask them. I told you, I don’t really understand the faith-frozen mind.
I let the girls clean me up and apply a suture-patch to the wound. I have to admit, despite my chagrin about my martial performance, I was really enjoying myself. Carla was a little bit young for my taste, but boy what a body. Both of the other girls were lookers as well. Brenda was a tall brunette with an athlete’s build and legs that never stopped. Angel was a willowy blond with an oversized mouth and amazing lips.
I grew up in a society where casual nudity is common place. So I don’t get all out of control around tits and ass the way these religiopricks do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get turned on. Jesus, I mean, Carla is fucking hot. I had a full shot of combat adrenaline in my system and she was wiping my chest and rubbing her big tits all over my arm and shoulder. Wouldn’t you get a chubby?
Angel snuggled up to my other side and pressed that big mouth against my ear. Her breath sent shivers down my spine when she started whispering about my being the bar’s hero of the day and how it was time to collect my reward. Startled, I blurted out, “All three of you?”
Brenda laughed and said, “Honey, that’
s more reward than any man can handle, even hunky heroes with big, ahem, feet. I have to dance now.” After a lingering gaze at my tightening crotch, she glided out of the room, liquid muscles rippling in the neon light.
Angel smiled at Carla, placing her hand on my thigh, arousingly close to my penis. She leaned across my chest towards Carla. As their lips drew near one another, Angel extended the longest, most erotic tongue I have ever seen. Their kiss was soft and sensual. My mind was lost long before they finally parted. My cock throbbed in my suddenly-too-tight combat briefs.
Up until that night, I had been thinking of Carla as an adopted little sister. She’s about the same age as my sister and a couple of my cousins. I really miss them and the rest of my family. It is difficult living in exile and Carla had been my work buddy for the past month. Suddenly, my surrogate sibling had transformed to an object of desire. Part of me wasn’t very sure about what to do. A different, swelling part of me had some very clear ideas about that.
Security saved me from the ethical dilemma when one of the guys popped in and announced that the local inquisitors were in front and that they wanted to speak with me. Angel’s beautiful mouth formed into the worlds most sexy pout. She leaned back, her soft white ski-slope breasts arching up against me. Brushing her lips against my ear, she whispered, “Later.” Her hand slid down my chest, lingered on my abdominal muscles, then brushed my swelling groin and she was gone.
The security guy shrugged and smiled at me before heading back to the front. I took a deep breath, trying to get some blood back into my upper head and contemplated my conflicted feelings. I’m from a liberal society with few sexual hang-ups and although Carla was significantly younger than I, she was certainly not a child, nor was she my sister. So what the fuck? Why the fraternal confusion? I think it was because she was from a culture that views sex as a sin, yet she was working in this bar that was all about selling sex. That had to make her feel dirty. It had to lower her self-worth.
