Eccentric geek or not, his little toys, which he had modified to be portable and with a two-hour battery life, were invaluable. They would make it that much easier for Michi to strike back at the Marines, and through them, the Federation.
Chapter 17
It was an unseasonably warm evening, and Michi and Tamara strolled through some of the small cafes around the Riverwalk. They had contemplated going back to the Gut, but with their face-spoofers, they decided they didn’t need to search the Gut’s warrens for a victim.
Michi kept glancing at Tamara, trying to get used to her roommate’s appearance. The face-spoofer only changed the area around the head (although Doug kept insisting he would get that range extended), so Tamara could not show as much skin as she might have wanted, but in her zebra-striped unitard, she combined the exotic look of old Africa with the lithe body of a sprite or elf. Tamara had insisted that Michi was quite a looker as well, but perhaps conditioned by her time in the dance studio, she felt big and ungainly alongside her smaller friend.
She consciously worked to sway her hips as they walked, trying to give the picture of two young girls out for some fun. So far, the two had received a few interested glances, but from locals. No Marines were out and about, despite Cheri telling them that this was one area where a few Marines had been spotted while off-duty.
The day before, Michi had seen her first Marines. Four of them had marched down Harrison in their combat suits, two-and-a-half meter tall monstrosities that moved with surprising grace. That sobered Michi; there was no way she could do anything to one of them. She just hoped the information she had been given was accurate. She could deal with a Marine who had snuck out for a drink or two. From what she had heard, it wasn’t as if the Marines in the city were restricted to the stadium where they had set up a base camp. The newsfeeds had shown them playing with the kids at the company-run orphanage and playing basketball against the Lipper University team. Generally, though, the Marines seemed to stick to the stadium when not on duty.
Michi wiggled her shoulders, trying to loosen up. She had to be ready when the opportunity presented itself. She had to remember that they were the enemy.
“You look like you’re pissed off,” Tamara whispered to her. “Smile, at least. Act like you’re having fun.”
Michi tried to take off her war face and smile. She probably had been scowling.
“Not much better, there. Now it looks like you’ve got constipation.”
Michi broke out into a laugh. Tamara had her way about her.
“Ah, there you go. Now keep it up if we’re going to catch us a Marine.”
Two middle-aged men walked up to them, and Tamara flirted with them for a few minutes before promising to meet up with them later at the Belly Up, a well-known music venue.
“Done wasting time?” Michi grumbled.
“If we’re supposed to look like we are out on the town, we can’t very well ignore everyone, right? ’Sides, the Belly Up? Knossis is playing there tonight, and they suck. You wouldn’t catch me dead listening to that crap.”
They slowly wandered through the small streets and alleys, stopping for coffee or tea. They needed to keep alert, so no alcohol. The coffee was getting to Michi, though, and she had to pee when she spotted a man sitting alone at an outside table, a burger and a stein of beer in front of him. Something about him was different, and he just didn’t fit in. It might have been the clothes: they were decidedly out-of-date, and even if Michi was not a fashion zombie, she knew you didn’t wear socks and sandals with champs. It might have been the close-cropped hair. More than those, though, Michi thought it was the air about him. He was only eating and drinking a beer, but he had a look of utmost confidence.
After a few minor clashes when they first arrived, ones in which no Marines were reportedly hurt, things had been fairly quiet. Curfew had even been pushed back to 10:00 PM. But still, this was “enemy territory” to the Marines, and Michi would have imagined that anyone sneaking off for a beer would be more obviously alert. Seeing this man, though, changed Michi’s opinion. He just seemed too confident, as if no one could offer him a credible threat.
Michi was convinced he was a Marine, and his arrogant attitude angered her. She felt her fight come on. The Marine looked tough, true, but Michi was confident of her abilities. With the element of surprise, she didn’t think anyone, no matter how strong, could stand up to her roundhouse.
“Over there, sitting at the third table, I think that’s our man,” she whispered to Tamara.
Tamara didn’t stare, but let her gaze cross over him. “Could be, I guess. What say we grab a table and see.”
They wandered over, and took a seat. “Order me an ale,” she told Tamara. “I’ve got to pee.”
Tamara looked surprised, but the man still had half of his burger left, and if he was a Marine and their target for the night, Michi didn’t want to fight with a full bladder.
There was a drink waiting for her when she got back. She brought it to her mouth and acted like she was taking a sip. They were sitting two tables from the man, but he was more interested in his meal than in them. He was dipping his fries in what looked to be mayo, then putting each one into his mouth, sucking off the mayo, then popping the fry into his mouth as well.
“That’s pretty disgusting,” Tamara whispered as she lifted her own glass.
Unless she was dumping some on the ground, it looked like she had taken a few swallows of her beer. Well, it wasn’t as if she was going to be doing any fighting, so maybe it was OK.
Michi picked up her PA and dialed Doug. Doug was their “back-up,” as Cheri had made them promise to have. Michi wasn’t sure how much good having Doug around was, but with Cheri’s fear that there was a spy in the WRP, neither Michi nor Tamara wanted to bring anyone else in on their plan.
“Hey, Danielle. We’re at Yancy’s Café, over on Calamus Two,” she told Doug over the PA.
“I’m on Calamus Four, so let me move over. Do you have someone?” Doug asked.
“Maybe, but don’t you worry. We’ll let you know if we leave here,” Michi said before cutting the connection.
“Duty done,” she whispered to Tamara, bringing up the glass to cover her mouth.
“Ah, yes, Danielle is such a sweetie,” Tamara said with a laugh.
The laugh sounded a little forced, so Michi knew Tamara was getting amped. The girl had a mean streak in her, and Michi was glad they were friends. She didn’t think Tamara would make a good enemy.
As the man finished his burger, he asked for his check, his off-world accent clearly reaching them.
“Bingo!” Tamara said.
Whether he heard her or not, he looked up, catching her eye. Tamara smiled and lifted her glass up in a toast. The man nodded and lifted his up in return before breaking the contact.
“I already paid,” Tamara told her. “When he leaves, let’s follow him. If he starts to head towards the stadium, then he’s our man.”
The man sat at the table for another 20 minutes, seemingly happy to just relax while Michi got more and more tense. She was ready, and she wanted to get at it. When the man finally got up, Tamara had to put out a restraining arm to keep Michi from immediately jumping up to follow.
The man started to walk deeper down Calamus Two, which was a good sign. The stadium was only five hundred meters or so through the winding small roads that made up this restaurant district. At the point where the river bent around, there was a footbridge, and over that was the more open plaza where the stadium, museum, and opera house stood. If they were going to jump him, it had to be before he got to the bridge.
The two roommates trailed the man, and when he stopped to ask directions on how to get out of the district, that cemented it. This was their target. They were getting close to the outer river walk and the bridge, so they had to move.
They picked up their pace. They were still 10 meters in back of the man as he came within sight of the Riverwalk.
“Hey!” Tamara called
out.
The man, the Marine, turned around. “I was wondering when you two were going to say something,” he said in his off-world accent.
“What do you mean?” Tamara asked, using the time to close the distance.
“Well, you’ve been following me since the café.”
“Well, did you have to make it that difficult for a girl, then?” she asked, reaching out to take one of his hands in hers.
“Difficult is all relative, don’t you think? Anyway, I’m afraid that as much as I find the both of you fine specimens of Kauregan womanhood, whatever you had planned won’t come to fruition.”
Specimens” Michi thought as she maneuvered in back of the man, just off his right shoulder. I’ll show him “specimens.”
The man gently disengaged his hand from Tamara’s as she started to protest. He cut her off. “Look, I’m trying to be polite, but whether you’re looking for some fun or you’ve got some scam going, it isn’t happening tonight. So why don’t you two—”
Whatever he was going to say was lost as Michi’s roundhouse kick connected solidly on the side of his head. Michi could feel the force jolt up her leg, and she reveled in the power of it.
Only, the Marine didn’t go down. He staggered a step into Tamara, then spun around.
This time, Michi was not going to be caught just looking. She was surprised he was not down yet, but she launched into a back kick. The Marine whipped up his arm and deflected it, knocking Michi off balance.
“So that’s your game, girlies. Not a smart move. I don’t have many credits on me, so even if you could get them, I don’t think it would be worth the effort, so what say you two just turn around and find someone else to rob.”
The way he just stood there, not even protecting himself, infuriated Michi, and she suddenly spun into a spinning back fist, anxious to smash his smug face. Only his face wasn’t there as she came around. His right fist was, however, swinging into a short uppercut to Michi’s chin, stunning her. She went to one knee, fighting to get back up.
The Marine wasn’t following through. He stood there, looking down at her with a look of, could it be pity?
“No one pities me!” she screamed as she struggled to her feet.
The Marine suddenly sprouted an extra pair of arms, it seemed to Michi’s still-fuzzy mind. It took her a moment to realize that Tamara had launched herself into the fray, and just as quickly, the Marine had thrown her off to crumble into a heap against the wall of the building beside them.
“Have you had enough?” the Marine asked her.
With a wordless shout, Michi rushed the man, wanting to tear him apart. Forget about Cheri telling them that this was to be a simple mugging—she was going to kill him.
His resigned look and the big fist coming at her face were the last things Michi remembered.
Chapter 18
Michi rang the buzzer, and a few moments later, the door opened. She climbed the steps to the third floor and opened the door to Apartment G. A small counter blocked her way, a 30-something man leaning over it, looking at her expectantly.
“You Seth MacPruitt?” she asked.
“Yeah, and who might you be, angry young woman?” he answered.
He was observant, at least. Michi was angry. More than that, she was humiliated. It had been a day since they had tried to jump the Marine, and the bruise on her face still showed. She hadn’t gone to a doctor, so she had to rely on NovaSkin, which was great for small cuts, but didn’t work as well with subcutaneous bleeding.
The bruised face meant nothing, though. It was her pride that had been damaged. She had been so sure of herself, and even with complete surprise, she had gotten her ass whipped. Worse than that, she was still free.
Oh, she was glad she hadn’t woken up in jail. But the fact that the Marine hadn’t even considered them enough of a threat to call the jacks was the utmost degree of disrespect. No, not disrespect. That, at least, required that the Marine thought something of them. He just didn’t care. They were nothing.
“My name really isn’t important right now. I hear you still do MMA training.”
“Which would explain the mats and punchin’ bags behind me,” he said.
Seth MacPruitt was First Family, even if the MacPruitts were considered somewhat on the low end of the Clan totem pole. But as a young man Seth had managed to win not one, but two Kakurega MMA championships and had even taken runner up at the sectional tournament. The fact that he had then joined the Marines had given Michi pause, but the rumor was that he left the Marines on less-than-favorable terms.
“Well, given the fadin’ bruise on your face, I’d be sayin’ you’re here to get some revenge on a beatin’. The thing is, I don’ take on no wannabes.”
“I can fight,” she protested.
“Not well enough, evidently.”
“Look, I can’t pay you much,” Michi started.
“You’re Clan, cousin, I can smell it on you. And you can’t pay much?”
MacPruitt and Michi were not related, as far as she knew, but some Clan liked to call each other cousin as a sort of endearment. MacPruitt, though, used it sarcastically, as if to emphasize their different positions in life.
“Uh, well, I’m sort of on my own now,” Michi admitted.
“Ah, you pissed off your family? Interestin’. Maybe you’ve got some balls, girl. Tell you what. Hop around the counter, and let’s roll around on the mat. Let me see what you’ve got.”
Michi walked around the counter and started to step onto the mat when Seth stopped her. “Take off those Clodders. I don’t need you tearing up my mat. There’s a locker room in the back. Get dressed, then we’ll see.”
As Michi crossed the worn mat, she saw various photos on the wall, some of Seth in action, several at awards ceremonies, and one of him teaching what had to be Marines. There was even his discharge certificate framed and on the wall. Was she coming to the enemy for help?
She was changed and back in a few moments, standing in front of the relaxed Seth. She came to the balls of her feet, ready for whatever he might have for her.
“Well, don’t waste my time, girl, show me you’re worth it.”
Michi immediately launched into a superman punch, knee up to change to a kick if the opportunity presented itself. She was taller than Seth, and the superman punch was a good way to close the distance.
In an instant, she brought her fist down towards his nose, and an instant later, she was on the mat, her right arm being extended and cranked back.
“Tap, tap!” she shouted, using her left hand to tap Seth’s back.
He let her up while she tried to shake out the strain on her arm. “You done?” he asked her.
In response, she flicked out with a front kick, which barely touched his chest. She hopped up to come down with an axe kick, which he easily batted away before dropping down and punching her between the legs. The punch hit her squarely in the crotch, and pain flooded her senses. With a shout, she dove at him, grabbing him and driving him back, striving to mount him so she could get to the ground and pound. She felt a momentary thrill as she felt him go down, but somehow, he ended up on top, and within moments, she was in a crucifix, pinned.
He didn’t pummel at her, as she expected, but he thrust his pelvis into her face once before letting her go and looking at her expectantly.
She felt the radge start to rise, but she fought it down. She knew his little balls-in-the-face was an attempt to get her to lose it. It would take more than that to get to her, she promised herself.
She stood back up, brought her fists up, and started circling, leaving anger and emotion to focus on technique. She thought she saw Seth slightly nod as he closed in. They sparred for another 20 minutes, giving and taking, although Michi was taking much more. She managed to reverse Seth once, and she caught him with an elbow, but that was about it. If he’d wanted to, he could have destroyed her, she realized.
He called a halt, walked over to an old, beat-up fridge, and pulled out t
wo waters, throwing her one. She gratefully took it, trying to drink between heavy breaths.
“Well, you ain’t very good, are you?” he asked.
She started to protest, but he held up a hand and continued, “But you’re ungodly strong, and you’re aggressive. You’ve got some potential. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but come around at 3:00 tomorrow, and we’ll see what we can do. Pay me what you can, and if it ain’t enough, you can clean up the place after, give it a good scrubbin’. Deal?”
Michi wasn’t a maid, and cleaning wasn’t her thing. And she owed him for the crotch shot, which still hurt. But she needed to get better, and this was her best shot.
“Deal,” she said as she shook his hand.
Chapter 19
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Michi said as she looked in the mirror. She had on her own face, but she was very unsure of the outfit Tamara and Cheri had come up with.
“Look, this top is about five sizes too small,” she told them, trying to stretch it out to give it more coverage.
“We went over this, Michi, dear,” Cheri said. “The Federation government and military are the last bastions of misogyny. Women need to be protected, so they say, and that keeps us from all the opportunities offered men. If you, as a woman, take down one of theirs, that should shame them.”
“I get all of that, and I agreed to this mission, but why do I have to look like an exotic dancer? I’m not comfortable with that at all.”
“Suck it up, big girl. ’Sides, we need there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind that it’s a sister doing the deed, and your twins there are going to take care of that,” Tamara said.
“Easy for you to say. You’re not going,” Michi grumbled.
“First, I don’t have the assets you do, and second, I’ve got to be at work. Someone’s got to pay the bills around here.”
“I . . . but what about the boots? And the gloves? How can I fight in these things?” she asked, pointing at the thigh-high faux-leather boots Cheri had brought.
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