Chapter 5
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I got back to my locker as fast as I could, feeling the time pressure to get back to Liv and clear my debt. It was already 16H. Cora would understand my being late. She was used to it. I stepped in front of the plastic cube that hung on the wall opposite my door. The letters ‘MX’ were printed on the top edge in a squat font. I was sure it was the name of whatever company made the now ubiquitous unit, but everybody assumed it stood for ‘money exchange’. A basic LCD screen about the size of a playing card, 4 thin slots, and a raised numerical keypad with a few command buttons was embedded in the face of the unit. I plugged the cred-stick into the first slot to check the amount and split out Cora’s share. The screen came to life, green and black.
Accessing - Please wait…
The readout flashed.
Accessing - Please wait…
Accessing - Please wait…
C’mon. C’mon!
Accessing - Please wait…
Input 1 - 15,000c
Input 2 -
Input 3 -
Input 4 -
Woooooo!
I slammed two spare cred-sticks from a junk drawer in my kitchen into two of the remaining three slots on the unit.
Input 1 - 15,000c
Input 2 - 20c
Input 3 - 0c
Input 4 -
Nice.
I clattered the keys in a sequence I knew by heart to withdraw credit from one input and deposit it in another. I wished there was a centralised bank on Khalo. Earth economics hadn’t quite reached the station yet. If it ever would. At least, not to the point where I could just hit a button and transfer Liv the money I owed her. The downside of a discrete, encrypted digital currency was that it all had to be transferred manually using devices like the MX and moved from one place to another on physical media, like cred-sticks. The upside, I suppose, was that you couldn’t remotely steal it. Like I said, it may as well be Monopoly Money or Disney Dollars.
Khalo Kred.
As it stood, everyone seemed happy enough to treat “credits” as the only commodity worth trading for goods and services. Sure, you could barter if you had something you knew someone wanted, and vice versa, but in general, Credit is King.
Input 1 - 1380c
Input 2 - 6100c
Input 3 - 7500c
Input 4 -
I took the stick from input 2 first, put it in a stash in my shirt, then took the stick from input 3 and pocketed it for Cora. I made a note of the time, 1620H, left the remaining stick in input 1 and headed for the door. I double-tapped my temple.
Better ping Cora and tell her I’m gonna be late.
The AR overlay booted up over my right eye and, as I locked the locker door, my name popped up in rigid letters. The outline of the door itself was highlighted. Every other door in the corridor followed suit when I looked their way but no names popped up. I didn’t have any of them in my contacts.
***
By the time I met Cora, it was 18H. She was squatting on a stool outside The Pink Room, drinking a pint of Pink Pale Ale from the microbrewery they had set up behind the bar.
“Remind me never to borrow money from Liv ever again. She is terrifying.” I pulled out the stool next to her and flumped down onto it.
“I would, but you probably wouldn’t listen.” She said. “Take it she caught up with you?”
“Her ‘boys’ did.” I said mimicking her southern drawl. I pointed out the now quite prominent lump that had formed at my hairline.
“Ouch.” She said, then poked at it.
“Ouch!! Why?!” I recoiled.
“You’re fine, quit being a baby.” Her sympathy had worn out already. “How’d it go with Tanaka?”
“Fine.” I said, still salty. I rummaged in my pocket for the cred-stick and slapped it on the table in front of her. She took it and pocketed it without a word.
“Been meaning to try the Pink Lager, any good?” I asked.
“It’s a pale ale. And yeah, it’s decent.” She said with a nod.
I waved over Astrid, who was working the bar.
“En, ca-va?” She said, smiling. Astrid was pretty. Her dark hair was pulled up in a high ponytail but for a heavy fringe that came down to her eyebrows and longer sections on either side that brushed her cheekbones. Her eyes were big and green. She had a few piercings on her ears, stretched lobes, held open with LED plugs, and her left nostril was pierced with a dainty silver hoop.
You look great tonight. I thought, then tried to translate it into French.
“Bien, et toi?” I said.
"Oui” She nodded.
“Have you died your hair or something?”
“No, but, I washed it.” She laughed, and I couldn’t help but smile. She had an infectious laugh.
“Well, it looks great. It frames your face really nicely.” I said
She smiled again and blushed. “Ah merci. What can I get for you?”
“A Pink Lager please.”
“Tres bien.” She turned and walked away.
“You two should fuck and get it over with.” Cora said, snapping me out of my daydream.
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious. You’re clearly into one another. Just ask her out.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Be quiet, here she comes!” I tried to not look like we were talking about her.
“Voila.” Astrid sat the tall not-glass glass down on the table in front of me, smiling so the dimples on her cheeks deepened.
“Merci, Astrid”
“De rien.”
“It’s on Cora’s tab.” I saw a flash of anger in Cora’s eyes, but it quickly dissipated into mild annoyance.
“Tres bien.” Astrid said before turning away and getting back to work. I let my eyes linger on her as she walked away. Cora was saying something. Astrid always wore the same thing when she was working, a pink tank top and black jeans. The way her hips swayed as she walked was more than a little mesmerising. In particular, the way her tight jeans hugged her waist and showed off her round–
“HEY! Are you listening?!” Cora snapped her fingers a couple centimeters from my face. “Get it together, Cassanova, we’ve got work to do.”
I blinked. “Sorry. What did you say?”
“I said I finished the initial recon on Ferro.”
“And?” I took a swig of the pink drink as Cora started. It was light, hoppy, and had subtle notes of honey.
“And the guy seemed like a standard 7-15 suit. I tracked down his workspace, in Rendon, R&D block. My guess is he’s some financial stiff for Neotec. Maybe a lawyer.”
Red flag. I don’t know a great deal about Neotec, I doubt Cora does either, and that’s exactly the way these shadowy research & development companies like it. Who knows what kind of shady shit they’re working on.
“At 15H he walked out of the Neotec building, wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase, jumped on an orbital and rode it round to Boe then went to a gym for about an hour. After that, I tailed him to the tramstop then disengaged because I think he might have made me. He seemed a bit jumpy, looking over his shoulder.” She seemed annoyed at that.
“Well yeah, you’re not the most inconspicuous in your utilitarian look.” I said.
She looked at her outfit and considered it for a moment. “Hmm, maybe you’re right.”
“What was that?”
“Shut up. Tomorrow we should go the to gym around 15H and stake him out. It’ll be less suspicious if we’re both there sparring or something.”
“I’m not sparring with you.” I said.
“Why not?”
“Because last time you gave me a black eye and pulled a muscle in my neck.”
A vivid memory of the sound of my own screaming as Cora had me pinned to the mat on my stomach, one of my arms trapped between her thighs as she wrenched my head back with her interlocked hands.
I shuddered.
“It wasn’t that bad. And if you had just tapped out earlier you’d have been fine.”
“If I had tapped out any later you’d have killed me!”
“Wow. You’re so dramatic. I know for a fact you can fight. Would you prefer I take it easy on you?”
“No.” I sulked.
“Okay then. So we gonna spar?” She held up her pint not-glass glass in a motion to toast. “Or are you too chicken? I hurt you too bad last time?” She said mockingly.
“I’m no chicken!” I said.
God damn it.
“Fine.” I slapped my not-glass glass against hers and took a long gulp of the Pink Lager. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”
No, you’re not
“No, you’re not.” She said after she finished off her pint.
“We’ll see!”
***
The impact shocked my back, square between my shoulder blades as I slammed into the mat. The air in my lungs all rushed out at once and I rolled painfully onto my side as quickly as I could to avoid Cora’s knee. It crashed down in the exact spot where my chest had been.
She knew I’d move in time. She’s making sure I keep up.
I scrambled back to my feet and shook out my arms. Then we began circling each other with our guard up.
“You can have that one for free.” I said, playing down the ache in my shoulders.
Concentrate. Hurt later.
“I’ll take it all for free.” Her expression didn’t change but her eyes examined me, looking for an advantage. Focussed, determined, methodical.
She was wearing tight-fitting leggings and a rigid sports bra. Her muscular shoulders and arms made her look menacing. As she moved, I could see the definition in her thighs too. I felt briefly thankful that we weren’t fighting for real. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She hated it when it got in the way.
She’ll make the first move, I can counter. She always leads with her left to distract from the more powerful right.
She stepped in with a left jab that I absorbed with my guard and ducked as quickly as I could. I felt the whip of air as her right fist sailed over my head.
Go!
I drove my right fist into her solar plexus and used the opposing momentum to swing around with my other arm and hook her right knee into the air. She landed on her back and I saw a hint of surprise on her face.
She wasn’t expecting that.
I stepped back and let her get to her feet. I couldn’t stop the smug grin, even though I knew it would just piss her off.
Then, quick as a shot, her foot was planted on my chest and I stumbled backwards, but she didn’t relent. Her punches came thick and fast. Right. Left. Right. Left. I hid behind my guard and blocked most, but one caught my left ear and rang my head like a bell. She put her hands on the back of my neck and drove two consecutive knees into my gut. The third, I grabbed and stepped forward, throwing her off balance. She hopped back, let go of my neck and gave me the opportunity to return a few punches.
Keep moving.
I landed one on her jaw and kept moving forward, taking advantage of her off-balance stagger. Swung a big left hook but she saw it coming and let her momentum carry her into a backwards roll.
Stop or she’ll launch.
I stopped abruptly. She paused in a crouch, poised, then smiled and relaxed. She stood and cranked her neck to one side.
We started circling again, panting from the effort.
“Here’s our guy.” she nodded behind me.
“I’m not falling for that.” I said.
“Hah! Do you think I need to distract you to get the upper hand?” She moved closer.
Don’t wait for her this time.
“I don’t know, do you?” I threw a right jab, which she caught with a vice grip and wrestled me to the floor. She had me in an armbar, her left calf over my face, her right calf on my chest, my wrist pinned against her chest. I tensed up as she applied pressure, almost letting out a yelp but she eased off and pushed my face round with her calf.
“Red shorts.” She said.
Sure enough, an average-looking man with close-cropped, brown hair, wearing red shorts and a white t-shirt. He was jogging on a treadmill on the other side of the gym facing a mirrored wall. There were mirrors everywhere.
We’ll have to be careful to not look like we’re watching him. Especially if he’s already jumpy. He does look like an accountant.
“You were rieeeAAAH!” She wrenched my arm back till I tapped her shin with my free hand. She released my arm and rolled backwards, returning gracefully to her feet. I clambered up onto mine, clumsily, shaking out the pain in my bicep.
“So what now?” I asked. “We just keep fighting til he gets tired?”
“That was my plan, yeah.”
I sighed. Then rushed at her.
Stupid
She was ready for me. She sidestepped and slipped one arm under mine, the other snaked around my neck and squeezed. She had told me the name of this hold before, and how to get out of it, but in the moment I couldn’t remember either. My throat barely allowed a raspy noise when I tried to say something and I made an effort to jam my hand between her arm and my neck. She flexed her bicep and closed the gap.
Shit. I thought as I hung there, helpless.
She loosened her grip a little and pivoted so we were both facing Ferro’s direction. “How long you think he’s got in him? 5k? 10?”
The man in red shorts carried on jogging. His pace was rocksteady. For a moment it synchronised with the heartbeat pumping in my ears.
I grunted, “I hope not!”
“He looks pretty fit.”
She’s trying to psyche me out.
“How’d you get out of this again?”
“Step forward, turn ninety degrees and bend over. Bring me over your shoulder to the mat”
I struggled a little, almost moving forward, but she dug her heels in. “You gonna let me?”
“Let you?” She said as if she’d never heard the words before.
Okay then.
I took a breath and threw all my momentum forward and down, turning into a rough squat. Her weight shifted onto my back and I leaned forward, grabbed one of her wrists and pulled. She let go of my neck, slipped off my back in front of me, landed on her shoulder and rolled through to her feet.
The drab corner of the gym we were sparring in was little more than a 4x4 meter square of neoprene padding on the floor. The walls were bare steel but for a few GIF posters advertising exercise classes and fighting tournaments.
Not that any of the fight nights worth going to were ever in legitimate establishments in Boe.
One of them showed a slow-motion knock-out, the boxer’s mouthguard flying out, trailing spit and growing to encompass the entire poster, wiping the shot back to the start. Another cycled through a repeating selection of exercising women in workout gear.
Now, I was facing that drab corner and fighting the urge to turn around and gawk at the man in red shorts. Cora was facing me, and the rest of the room, including the bank of treadmills.
“What’s he doing now?” I asked.
“Running.” She said.
She stepped in close and threw a jab, then an elbow, then a low kick. I absorbed the jab, leaned back out of the elbow’s path, then took the kick on my left quad. I almost fell as it refused to hold my weight any longer. I hobbled a few steps away from Cora and she circled me like a hyena. Her dark eyes were locked on mine. Now I faced the rest of the room. I saw her shift her weight, slightly, getting ready to strike.
“Wait.” I said. “He’s slowing down.”
She relaxed a little, believing me. I took advantage and lurched forward, sending the sole of my foot into her narrowly regrouped guard. She stumbled backwards and I unleashed a flurry of punches, most of which she blocked or dodged, but a couple landed. One on her jaw, one on her ribs, another on her left ear. I paused for half a second, noticing Ferro leave his treadmill and walk off to the changing rooms when something like a wrecking ball made contact with the side of my head. I never felt the mat rise up to meet me. My vision was blurry and everything sounded muted and slow. A hazy, Cora-shaped figure was standing over me and I felt her pull me up til I was sitting. The room span. Cora said something.
“What?” I said, but it was only a muffled honk.
“I said get up, we gotta go!”