Extensis Vitae: City of Sarx

by Gregory Mattix

  I’d love to knock that asshole’s teeth right down his throat, she thought.

  “And what of us?” Ryu asked. “Let Rin go and keep me if you want a hostage.”

  “No, Ryu—”

  “Oh, we’ve got that all worked out already. My brother Haze here has requested that I give him Lady Takahashi.” The Overseer patted the man with the mohawk on the shoulder. “I’m inclined to agree to that request since he got us some good information from his man on the inside. Information like Seijin’s two lieutenants would be having a nice fuckfest in my hot tub and his daughter would be along for the ride. Lady Takahashi, for you, I think a little humility will build character.”

  “And your boyfriend there gets a bullet in the brain,” Haze added. Although they couldn’t be further apart in dress and looks, she could see the resemblance in their cold blue eyes and malevolent, thin-lipped smiles.

  ***

  Rin thrashed awake, disoriented, her heart beating furiously as the fight-or-flight reaction kicked in. Seeing the serene moonlit lake surrounding her and realizing the nightmare was relegated to the past again, she relaxed a bit. It’s been a long time since I had that nightmare. She shivered.

  Deciding she didn’t want to be in the hot tub anymore since it reminded her too much of Ryu and that night, she quickly bundled up in her kimono and went back inside her room.

  Rin sat down on the tatami mat in the lotus position so she could meditate before going to bed. When her thoughts turned to Reznik, she realized he was being hunted by the same maniac that had ruined her life, the same maniac that had put Tseng Bao on her trail. She checked her HUD for messages, but Reznik hadn’t replied yet. I don’t exactly have that many friends left in this world. I’m not going to just sit by and let him meet the same fate as Ryu. If I don’t hear something from him by tomorrow, there’s going to be a change of plans—Sea-Tac can wait. My brother won’t like it, but I’m going back to Skin City, in force this time. It is past time for the Overseer’s reign of terror to come to an end.

  Chapter 12

  Marcus looked at himself in the mirror and ran a hand along the side of his head. The puckered scar, a constant reminder of taking a slaver’s bullet to the head, ran from his right temple past the ruin of his right ear and continued along the side of his head before stopping near the back of his skull. He had gotten new cochlear and Datalink implants as soon as he got back to corporate headquarters, but he had declined reconstructive surgery on the ear or a full reskin. He had decided to embrace the flaw and shave his head instead of letting his hair grow out to try to conceal it. He had to admit the look was growing on him. Bethany was right about embracing the scar as a sign of a survivor. I’ll never look attractive, but it makes me look a little… dangerous. Marcus smiled at the thought. Kind of like Reznik and Rin, but unlike them I don’t have the power to really do anything, even with this promotion. It’s too bad… I wish I could make some serious changes around here.

  Despite his nagging fear over doing anything to compromise the military operation, his conscience had gotten the better of him. Earlier, he had tried contacting Reznik to give him a heads-up about the impending strike on Planter’s Ridge, but he hadn’t been able to get through. He had settled with leaving a message. He hoped Reznik would be able to warn the town in time. Marcus was nagged by doubts about whether he should have downplayed the threat at the meeting or even published his after-action report at all.

  “Shit, I need a drink.” He pulled a suit coat on over his open-necked shirt and adjusted the collar. He walked out the door, and his corporate apartment automatically turned off the lights behind him. Time to go celebrate this damn promotion. I sure do hope things get better from here on out.

  ***

  “Whoooo! Here’s to our new boss!” Ramjav—or Ram, as he went by—popped the cork on a champagne bottle, and suds erupted, obviously having been shaken up. He aimed the bottle at Marcus, who ducked out of the way, letting Brent get blasted in the face instead. Ram hooted with laughter, and Marcus joined in.

  Brent cursed as he wiped the suds off his face but then grinned as he tasted the champagne. “This is some good shit! Congrats to Marcus on the promotion!” The three of them toasted and downed the first glass of champagne.

  Marcus’s two coworkers had insisted they go out to celebrate his promotion to director of Section 7. How that ever happened, Marcus still had no idea although he suspected his recent successful mission in the wasteland and Mr. Thorne’s satisfaction with the nanite project had put him on the CEO’s radar. It probably didn’t hurt to have Bethany on his side either. Whatever had happened with Dr. Barbosa, it had worked out in Marcus’s favor. He had tried not to think about his old boss’s fate.

  Ever since returning from the wasteland, Marcus had been dejected and hoped a night of carousing would be just the thing. Life had been moving too quickly since he had gotten back. Even though he hadn’t mentioned his exploits, rumors had circulated as they tend to do, and combined with his stellar rise in position within the company in such a short time, it was no surprise that he was looked at with a type of awe by his friends and coworkers. Those that weren’t in awe were coveting his newfound favor or were spiteful that he had been promoted over them.

  Marcus missed Liu. He had known his best friend since they had grown up together in the company compound, and he was still depressed about his friend’s untimely death in the wasteland. Liu should be here celebrating with us tonight.

  As the liquor warmed Marcus’s stomach, he realized it was nice to get off the Thorne campus again. The three of them stood around a small table away from the action in the corner of the dance club. The Ninth Circle was one of the most popular and exclusive clubs in the District. All around them, beautiful people swarmed, in various stages of intoxication. The loud techno bass thumped, and lights strobed throughout the club. A sea of dancing bodies undulated on the massive translucent dance floor floating a dozen feet off the ground in the center of the club.

  “Holy shit!” Brent exclaimed as he pushed his way back to their table. “You can see everything from under there! And when I say everything, I’m talking about girls not wearing any underwear!” Ram yelled something in reply, and they both downed another glass of champagne.

  Marcus smiled at them and took a swig from his glass of Snakebite. The smooth whiskey burned pleasantly as it went down, and soon Marcus could feel a pleasant buzz building up.

  “Hey, sexy boys!” someone screamed from nearby. Marcus looked over to see three girls from work approaching, wearing tight little dresses and holding glasses of champagne.

  “You better get some of that,” Ram shouted in Marcus’s ear and punched him in the shoulder. Ram was referring to Naya, a relatively new intern that had caught Marcus’s eye about a month ago.

  “Hi, Marcus. Congratulations on the promotion,” Naya called as she came up and hugged him. Her curvy body was warm against his, and her perfume smelled good. She held his gaze with her dark eyes and smiled. Like her friends, she wore a clingy little dress, the pink contrasting nicely with her dusky skin and matching the highlights in her curly black hair.

  Before he realized it, Marcus’s drink was gone, and another had been pressed into his hand. The night was starting to look up already. He became entranced, watching people dancing under the strobing lights.

  Marcus blinked and realized some time had passed. His drink was empty again, and his head was buzzing pleasantly. The lights strobed, and the colors around him seemed hypersaturated. The bass reverberated through his body. He was keenly aware of Naya’s bare thigh beneath his hand and her lips on his neck.

  The room spun for a moment, and Marcus found himself on the dance floor, Naya grinding up against him. The music rattled his bones, but he let it take him as he danced among the other writhing bodies on the floor of the club.

  When he returned to the table, someone had knocked over one of the drinks on their table. Ram was leaning against the wall, apparently passed out. A sta
in of puke painted the wall nearby, and he thought Ram was the likely culprit. Brent was nowhere to be found. Marcus shook his head. Bunch of damn amateurs. He wished Liu was there. A waitress handed him another drink, and before he knew it, that one was empty too.

  Marcus looked around for Naya, who had excused herself to the ladies’ room with her girlfriends. Ram was still passed out at the table, and Brent hadn’t returned yet.

  “Here ya go, hon,” the waitress said, pressing another drink in his hand.

  Marcus wondered briefly who was floating the tab, but he quickly forgot as he took another drink. The lights seemed to flash brighter, and his head spun for a moment until he had to sit down.

  The towering figures of two bouncers were shoving their way through the crowd. They were huge, beefy men with black tactical pants and dark t-shirts that seemed painted onto their powerful physiques. They were looking right at him as they drew nearer, and he wondered if someone’s credit had been declined for the tab and if they were about to be tossed out.

  The men’s military-style crew cuts made him reconsider, and he realized they were Thorne skins. At least they didn’t show up in uniform. Wonder what I did… maybe the director isn’t allowed to go out on the town and get drunk off his ass—might reflect badly on the company. A second later, fear cut through the haze of the booze. Oh fuck… did they find out I tipped off Reznik about the operation?

  The skins stepped aside, and all thoughts of getting arrested or berated for any behavior reflecting badly on the company vanished. Marcus’s jaw sagged open as Bethany sauntered toward him, her amber eyes intense as they locked on his face. Her long, dark hair cascaded freely down her back, and she wore a very short skirt and a clingy top that showed off her toned midriff. A shiny jewel pierced her belly button, and a slim silver chain attached to the stud encircled her waist. God, she looks amazing!

  “Well, there’s the man of the hour,” she purred. She came up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. The scent of her perfume was intoxicating, and Marcus felt even more lightheaded. Bethany looked around and wrinkled her nose at the messy table, the puddle of vomit on the floor, and the comatose Ram.

  “This won’t do. Find us somewhere more suitable,” she ordered the skins. The two large men moved off, and the crowd broke around them like water around the prows of a pair of battleships.

  “How… how did you know we’d be here?” Marcus was flustered as usual in her presence, but he was happy she was there.

  “I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I let our new director just disappear after his first full day on the job, now would I?”

  “What, exactly, is your job?” The alcohol was definitely loosening his tongue quite a bit.

  “Oh, a little of this… a little of that. Keeping an eye on you from time to time. Speaking of which, those two sacks of beef I brought are your new bodyguards whenever you go out from now on. On company property, they don’t need to follow you around although it’s still recommended.”

  “I thought I had you to look out for me,” Marcus teased. He touched her lean arm and didn’t want to remove his hand from her smooth skin.

  Bethany smiled warmly, her white teeth like gleaming pearls. “My dear, unfortunately I can’t always be there for you, but I do my best.” She plucked his glass from his hand and sniffed it. She easily tossed the booze back like the soldier she was. “Snakebite? Good choice.” Marcus watched as everything around him seemed to slow in the pulsing strobe lights.

  “You look amazing,” he said, emboldened by the alcohol. Her amber eyes were the most stunning color he had ever seen.

  “Why, thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” She straightened his coat and looked him up and down. A slight frown marred her face as she looked more closely at his face. She gently pried an eyelid open wide and took a closer look. “Trance? Oooh…You’ve been a bad boy.”

  Trance was a popular party drug, one which overstimulated the senses. Marcus would never have knowingly taken something like that, and he wondered if one of the girls had slipped it into his drink. He started to stammer an excuse when one of the skins returned.

  “The table is ready.” The bodyguard’s voice rumbled as he pointed up to the VIP level.

  A couple pissed-off men were having an animated one-sided conversation with the other skin, who seemed unfazed by the verbal onslaught. The big man stood impassively with his massive arms crossed against his broad chest and a scowl on his face. You idiots better cut your losses before it gets ugly.

  “Outstanding. Shall we?” Bethany extended her arm, and Marcus took it. The bodyguard lifted the comatose Ram out of the booth as easily as he would a small child.

  They went up the stairs and circled the dance floor, a level above it this time. The irate men had apparently taken the hint and were nowhere to be seen. The VIP section consisted of plush lounge chairs and a table with bottles of booze on ice. A thin curtain on each side acted as a privacy screen. A dedicated waitress hovered nearby, waiting to serve them.

  “Two Snakebites, please. Make them doubles,” Marcus ordered. He sat down next to Bethany, and she leaned against him. Or maybe he leaned against her. He wasn’t too sure. He just knew he was happy she was there.

  The waitress returned in seconds, it seemed. Marcus downed half the drink and then decided he didn’t want to sit around. “How about a dance?”

  Bethany’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Why not? Lead on.” She knocked back her drink in one swallow.

  Marcus took her hand and pulled her along, down the steps and onto the dance floor. A song he liked was just starting up, and he dragged her to the middle of the floor. She smiled at him, and they began to dance. Marcus was pleasantly surprised to discover he didn’t have two left feet, even as intoxicated as he was rapidly becoming. Bethany of course danced well, just like she did everything.

  Her hand caressed the scar on his head. “It looks good on you… I’m glad you shaved your head.”

  The pulsing lights dimmed, and a long bass note made Marcus’s spine vibrate before fireworks flared overhead, the bright sparklers making Bethany’s eyes blaze as if a fire smoldered deep inside her irises. She danced up against him, grinding her backside against Marcus, and he felt himself growing hard. Bethany apparently felt it as well, for she shot him an evil grin and rubbed against him with even more determination.

  His head positively swimming from the booze and the Trance now, Marcus became extremely bold. He grabbed Bethany’s forearm and spun her around, pulling her against him. Her breath caught, and her eyes widened for a moment in surprise, and then Marcus was kissing her soft lips.

  She resisted at first, and he was afraid for a second he had seriously misjudged things. But then she relented and kissed him back—hard. Her nails dug into his back, and her tongue explored his mouth. Marcus’s hands went from her toned waist and slid up to her breasts. He reveled in the feel and taste of her. They continued like that for what could’ve been mere seconds or several minutes before Bethany pulled away.

  “I’m sorry… I can’t do this. It’s kind of weird for me,” she said.

  Marcus couldn’t quite read the emotions she fought to control. Embarrassment? Shame? Desire? He started to stammer the mother of all apologies, but she pressed her fingers to his lips.

  “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. Come on, let’s get another drink.” She tugged him off the dance floor, and he hoped nobody had seen his blunder from the table. His hormones were raging, but he was afraid he had somehow misread her, and he was more scared of screwing up their relationship than anything.

  Brent was making out with one of the interns when they returned. Ram was awake again and unwisely drinking more champagne. His glazed eyes found Marcus, and he raised his glass and took another swig. Naya was giggling with her friend, and she eyed Marcus and Bethany with interest. The two skins loomed impassively just behind the group, watchfully surveying the club.

  Naturally, their glasses were refilled, so Marcus downed
half the thing in one swallow. Bethany followed suit. He awkwardly tried to think of something to say to smooth things over with Bethany.

  “Well, I’d better get back. I’ve got an early day tomorrow. You kids don’t get in too much trouble.” Bethany gave them that crooked grin and winked at Marcus. She hugged him and whispered in his ear. “Enjoy the night—don’t worry about a thing.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and finished her drink.

  Marcus sighed and watched her go as she disappeared into the crowd. No sooner had she disappeared into the throng than a pair of arms wrapped around his chest, and he felt a soft body press against his back. “You’ve got a thing for her, don’t you?” Naya asked softly.

  “Is it that obvious?” He turned around and gave her a half-hearted smile.

  “You could say that.” She pulled him down onto one of the lounge chairs. “I bet I can make you forget about her, though.”

  Marcus seriously doubted that.

  An hour later, he had temporarily forgotten all about the awkward yet wonderful moment with Bethany at the club. All thoughts of that incident had fled as Naya’s black and pink hair tickled his belly while she pleasured him with her mouth in the corporate limo. The world spun around him in a swirl of lights and color from the booze and Trance, but the woman definitely had the skills to keep him alert.

  Half an hour later, they were back in his apartment in the Thorne complex, sweating and grinding their bodies together. It wouldn’t be until the next day that he was surprised to realize Naya had made a true prediction—he hadn’t thought about Bethany at all the rest of that night.

  Chapter 13

  “The dread terrorist James Mason, I presume?” The big red-haired man stood just inside the door, scrutinizing Mason with an amused look. “I’m always a little disappointed to find out the legend is larger than the man. I was almost expecting Satan himself to be sitting in my cell.” The man chuckled. “My daughter tells me you would like to join up. However, you are widely regarded as a man with a very low set of morals and no loyalty at all, so my question is this: why the hell are you suddenly interested in aligning yourself with us?”