by Ben Wolf
They found a quick Borallion dinner and then headed to a spot called Club Gemini. Instead of a depiction of the classic male twins, two busty females outlined in neon orange and facing a blue star made up the club’s logo.
Justin’s eyebrows rose. “Is this a strip club?”
“Nah, bro. But Orion’s Gentleman’s Club is. It’s down at the other end. Gemini’s just a normal club.”
Inside, flashing lights and laser works flickered in the darkness. A few dozen men and women sat at a bar, danced on the sprawling wooden floor, or occupied the plush couches and seats that lined the dance floor’s perimeter.
A bar along the right side of the space glowed with ever-changing colors of light, and the bottles of liquor behind it glinted under the dim overhead lights.
Keontae led Justin straight to the bar. He pushed between two dudes seated on glowing barstools and ordered himself a gin-something drink and an intergalactic pale ale for Justin. The bartender, a short but attractive woman about their age, delivered the drinks within seconds.
Keontae held up his glass to Justin. “To your health.”
“What’s left of it, anyway.” Justin clinked his glass against Keontae’s.
Keontae finished his in a few gulps, set his glass down, and ordered another. It arrived, but he was too busy checking out something over Justin’s shoulder to notice. Justin turned back and understood his distraction.
A pair of tall, trim girls, both brunettes, sat at one of the lounge tables, each holding a colorful cocktail.
Justin looked back at Keontae. “Already?”
“C’mon, bro. Don’t tell me that accident took away your manhood.”
“It didn’t. But we’ve hardly been here three minutes.”
“We’re startin’ late, then.” Keontae grinned. “Seriously, though. Why else does anyone come to a place like this? The drinks are expensive, the music’s loud, and most people are terrible dancers. People come here to meet up. And that’s what I’m about to do with those girls.”
He ordered matching cocktails to what the girls already had, and he passed one to Justin.
“You bring one, and I’ll bring one. Then we’ll see what happens.”
Justin sighed, but Keontae had a point. There was literally no other reason to be there. He picked up the cocktail and his IPA and headed over to the table with Keontae behind him.
Overall, it went better than Justin had expected. Tara and Misty both worked at the greenhouse near the mine, and they both spoke with crisp German accents. Following surface-level conversations about their jobs, hobbies, and what planets they’d left to come to Ketarus-4, they all finished their third round of drinks and decided to hit the dance floor.
As they stood up from the lounge table, Justin spotted a shock of blonde hair near the club’s entrance, and he stopped.
Shannon had walked inside and headed straight for the bar. She wore tight denim on her lower half and a dark coat over a low-cut, peach-colored top.
Halfway to the bar, she looked over at him, then she turned away. Then she looked at him again, narrowed her eyes, and faced the bar again.
She’d seen him, and she’d recognized him.
“JB.”
Justin turned. “Huh?”
“You comin’, bro?” Keontae stood there, his arms wrapped around the waists of both German girls.
Justin stared at them and at the writhing, pulsing mass of bodies under the multicolored lights behind them. Tara and Misty were both pretty, without question, but neither of them had really captivated him.
Or was it just that Shannon had entered the bar?
Justin waved at Keontae and the girls and held up his half-full glass of beer. “I’ll be over in a bit. Gotta get a refill.”
Before Keontae could protest, Justin whirled around and left a sure thing behind. He threaded between men and women holding drinks and wearing immaculate club attire and caught sight of Shannon at the far end of the bar, by herself.
He exhaled a shaky breath and wiped his palms on his jeans.
Am I really going to do this?
He gulped down the last of his beer and nodded.
Damn right, I am.
Justin started toward her. The next thing he knew, he’d taken the glowing barstool next to her and set his empty beer mug on the bar.
Shannon looked at the glass first, then she fixed her attention on him. She frowned, sighed, rolled her eyes, and looked away.
“Can I, uh—” Justin swallowed. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Shannon didn’t make eye contact with him.
“I mean…” He chuckled. “…it’ll have to be a cheap one, since my paycheck was so small. You know, from nearly dying and being tossed into the infirmary and all that.”
“No thanks,” Shannon replied, her voice flat. She continued staring at something above and in the opposite direction from his eyes.
Justin looked up. The Uniball game was on. The Bizona-14 Marauders against the O’Connor-2 Space Pirates, who led by 1,400 points.
“You a fan?” he asked.
“Of what?”
At least she’s talking to me. “Of either team? Of the game?”
“It’s just something to watch.”
“Isn’t this the semi-finals match?”
She didn’t reply.
The cute, short bartender brought over some sort of beer that emanated a red glow and set it in front of Shannon. The bartender grabbed the empty glass and pointed at Justin. “Want another IPA?”
He nodded, and the bartender turned to fulfill his order.
“I don’t know why they aren’t using androids to make drinks. A monkey could do it.”
“There’s an android down there.” Shannon motioned with her head, but just barely.
Justin craned his neck and looked down the bar. Sure enough, a chrome-faced bartender stood there, mixing drinks between the two human bartenders. But it wasn’t giving him a robot death-stare.
He huffed. Yet.
“Besides, people need jobs, too. Not just robots,” she continued.
Progress? Justin swallowed. Or maybe he’d just offended her. “Yeah, that’s true.”
Silence lingered between them as they watched the Marauders’ forward toss a glowing white orb at an irradiated net, but the Space Pirates’ stopper batted the orb away with a metal paddle. No score that time.
The bartender set Justin’s new IPA in front of him. “You want to square up now?”
“No. Keep it open.”
She nodded and smiled again, then she headed off toward another patron.
Justin turned back to Shannon again. “So I was wondering if—”
“Look, I’m just trying to have a quiet drink alone, okay?” Shannon snapped. She didn’t even turn her head when she said it.
“Oh. Okay.” Justin’s heart crashed into his gut, wreathed in flames of embarrassment. He took a swig of his IPA and got up to leave, but he stopped.
This is bullshit.
He set his IPA on the bar and tapped Shannon’s shoulder.
She turned toward him with annoyed rage in her eyes.
“You know, I’m just trying to be friendly. I’ve been nothing but friendly to you since we met. Yet you keep being cold to me,” he said. “And we both know this isn’t the place you’d go for a quiet drink. There’s literally nothing quiet about this place. So either tell me to get lost and I’ll never say another word to you outside of work, or loosen up a bit.”
It wasn’t his most eloquent or brilliant display, but he’d gotten his point across. And now he was probably going to get fired for hitting on and then calling out his boss at a bar.
Shannon opened her mouth to say something, but Justin held up his hand.
“On second thought, forget it,” he said. “I’ll go. Enjoy your drink.”
She caught his opposite wrist as he picked up his IPA. “Wait.”
He found her eyes with his, and his stomach fluttered.
“I’m sorry.�
�� She sighed again. “Sit down, Mr. Barclay.”
She knew his last name. That was good, right? But adding the “mister” in front of it made him feel like they were back at the mine.
He complied, and she released his wrist.
“I’ve been very rude,” she said. “I know that, and I’m sorry. In this business, a woman has to be cautious of those she keeps company with. But if you really mean that you’re just looking for friendship, then I can give you a chance. I owe you that, at least, for standing up for me.”
Justin hesitated. He didn’t want to be just her friend, but it was something. Perhaps it would morph into something deeper over time.
But even if it didn’t, he needed to learn to be okay with it.
“I accept your apology.”
“I couldn’t find anywhere else showing the game.” Shannon nodded toward the screens. “I’ve been a Marauders fan since I was a kid, and they haven’t made it to the finals in fourteen years. This year, I think we could go all the way.”
Justin scoffed. “Not if they keep playing like that, they won’t.”
Shannon cracked a grin. “1,400 points isn’t a huge deficit. We’ve come back from twice that much already this season.”
“If you say so.”
She looked at him again. “Look… I know you’re not happy about my response, Mr. Barclay. It’s just that—”
“Please, call me Justin.”
“Justin.” She nodded. “I’m your boss. Even if I were interested in you—and I’m not saying that I am…”
“Rub it in a bit more, would you?” he muttered.
“Hey.” She touched his hand. “Hear me out, okay?”
Now he rolled his eyes and sighed. “Sure.”
“Even if I were interested, dating coworkers is messy. It rarely ends well. So I don’t want to get into that type of relationship.”
Justin nodded. She was hiding behind her job.
He scolded himself. He couldn’t make her be interested in him. Nor would he try. That was a tactic straight from Dirk’s playbook. Even if he didn’t want to admit it, continuing to try to impress her would only push her away more.
“But that doesn’t mean we can’t still talk. I had no right to be rude to you. You’re right—all you’ve been thus far is kind and friendly, if not a bit like a lost puppy whenever you see me.”
That broke his malaise, and he smirked. “I’m like a lost puppy, huh?”
“You literally got lost in the mine just the other day,” she countered. “So, yeah, lost puppy.”
He nodded again, smiling. “Fair point.”
“I don’t mind if you stay and watch the game with me, but that’s as far as this goes. Do you understand?” She stared at him with those amazing green eyes.
“Fine with me.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “It’s either that, or I have to go try to dance with two German supermodel-types from the greenhouse.”
She rolled her eyes again. “You’re kidding, right?”
He shook his head and motioned toward the dance floor. “Nope. See the black guy dancing with those two tall girls? That’s my friend Keontae from work.”
Shannon scoffed into her glass and took a drink of her red beer.
“So now you know exactly what I’m giving up so I can sit and talk with you.”
“Lucky me.”
“You got that right.”
They conversed a bit more, mostly about the game, but Justin recycled the questions he and Keontae had exchanged with Tara and Misty. He learned that Shannon hailed from Pinterius-3, the second largest planet in that solar system. She’d called it “Three-Pin,” a moniker Justin hadn’t yet encountered, despite her claims that all the Pinterius planets had “Pin-number” names.
“I got a look at your accident report,” she said. “Well, the accident report about you, anyway.”
He raised his IPA and took a long drink. This was the last subject he wanted to discuss.
“That is, before HR sealed it.” She matched his drink with one of her own, albeit shorter. “In your statement, you said you saw a ghost, and that the ghost saved you.”
Justin chuckled. Easy. You’re walking dangerous ground, now. She’s your boss, after all. “I don’t know what I saw.”
“But you did see something.”
He cursed himself. He’d already let too much slip. Perhaps learning to answer quickly wasn’t going to work out so well after all.
“Look, all I know is that after I woke up in the medbay, some guy named Gerhardt told me in no uncertain terms that I was not to speak to anyone about what happened. Then Oafy—” He caught himself. “—Ofelia from HR came in and told me essentially the same thing. So, no offense, but I’d rather not risk losing my job. Again.”
Shannon opened her mouth to reply, but another voice cut through the pumping bass of the music instead.
“Well, well. And I thought she looked good in safety equipment.”
Justin froze. The voice had come from behind him, and he prayed he hadn’t recognized it.
“I have never had a boss as sexy as you. That, I can tell you.”
It was Dirk. Who else would it be? And just when things were going so well…
“You wanna dance, boss? I could swing you around pretty good. Then we can see what happens next.”
As usual, Dirk’s five friends accompanied him. They all stood behind him with drinks in their hands and idiot grins on their faces.
Shannon’s eyes met Justin’s for an instant, then she looked over his shoulder again. “You sound drunk, Mr. Hammer. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”
Dirk’s laugh clashed with the pulsating music. “Honey, I’m just getting started.”
Shannon met Justin’s eyes again. “It’s been nice talking with you, but I’m going to leave.”
“I’ll cover your drink,” Justin offered.
“I took care of it before you sat down, but thank you.” She left a quarter of her beer in the glass and stood.
A thick forearm and a large hand reached into Justin’s view and grabbed Shannon’s wrist.
“Easy, boss. What’s the rush?”
Justin’s left hand grabbed Dirk’s wrist and held it in place before Shannon could reply. He turned, positioned himself between Dirk and Shannon, and glowered at Dirk.
“—the hell?” Dirk eyed him. “You just turn up everywhere, don’t you?”
I could say the same for you. “She said she wants to leave. Let go of her.”
To Justin’s surprise, Dirk released his grip on Shannon’s wrist and stepped back. Justin let go as well, and Dirk stood to his full height.
He held a small glass of brown liquid in his left hand, and if his black shirt had stretched any more across his huge chest, it might’ve screamed for mercy.
By now, Justin had acclimated to the act of standing up to Dirk. He’d certainly done it enough times since they’d arrived on the planet.
But he hadn’t yet adjusted to seeing Dirk’s full size. Justin may as well have been facing off with a grizzly bear.
“Y’know,” Dirk continued. “HR called me in for a little meeting this afternoon. Apparently, someone complained about me.”
Neither Justin nor Shannon said anything in response.
Dirk’s glossy eyes focused on Shannon, and he leaned in closer to her. “I know it was you, boss.”
“What’s your point?” Shannon folded her arms and stood her ground.
“I’m pissed about it. That’s my point.” Dirk straightened up again. “I’ve only ever tried to be friendly with you, and you went and reported me to HR over some bullshit? Is that how you show your appreciation?”
“I don’t appreciate how you’ve treated me and several of your co-workers since you’ve arrived here,” Shannon said, her voice firm.
“So you asked them to fire me?” Dirk shook his head. “What the hell?”
“This conversation is over.” Shannon tried to push past him, but Dirk again blocke
d her path.
Shannon stopped, and her whole body went rigid.
“Dirk, move.” Justin stepped forward. It earned him glares from both Dirk and Shannon.
“Or what?” Dirk snapped.
This again? Justin shook his head. “Dirk, I have no doubt that you could squash me. But that doesn’t give you the right to be an ass. I’m asking you nicely to please let her go. She’s our boss, for heaven’s sake. Just leave her alone.”
Dirk grinned and sucked half of the alcohol from his glass. “You’re right. But you’re the one who’s in her way. Not me.”
Justin frowned, but he moved aside, away from the bar, to let Shannon pass.
As she stepped past him, she gave him a glance that could’ve said anything from, “Thank you,” to “You’re so, so stupid.”
And then Dirk threw the rest of his drink in her face.
14
Justin’s first punch connected with Dirk’s jaw. He hit Dirk so hard that his hand flared with pain, but he only managed to push Dirk back a step.
One single step.
Dirk rubbed his jaw with his right hand, smiled, and tossed his now empty glass to the side. Then he started forward.
Shit.
Justin dodged an obvious overhand right first. He didn’t know a ton about fighting, certainly not as much as Keontae, but brutes like Dirk usually tried to end fights fast with their dominant arms. Dirk was a righty, so Justin was ready for the punch.
Dirk’s swing set him off-balance, and Justin charged him. He wrapped his arms around Dirk’s waist, and then his mind went totally blank. What the hell do I do now?
He wrenched Dirk toward the bar and pinned him between a pair of glowing barstools. Screams and yells erupted around him as club-goers scattered out of their way. Justin picked out the hoots and hollers of Dirk’s entourage from nearby.
Dirk grunted—or laughed, maybe—and then he hooked his arms under Justin’s armpits.
The sole of Dirk’s boot pressed flat against the bar, and he pushed off of it. Justin went with him, still trying to hold Dirk’s waist, but something hard hit his calves, and he fell back. His back hit a hard surface, and the sounds of shattering glass hit his ears.
