The Reaper Diaries: Fetch Job, Part 6
08 Dec 2015Michael Wolfe
Well, I can see why Kyndi would set up shop here. 
Novitski Oasis was a pleasant-sounding name for… what’s that old expression?- a “hive of scum and villainy”. Except unlike most dens of lawlessness, this one wasn’t some barely-functional outpost in the middle of nowhere. To the contrary- Novitski Oasis was a full-sized O’Neil cylinder, and if the system map was any indication, it was equipped with every facility one could hope for. This was both good and bad- it would make it easier for me to blend in, but harder for me to locate a specific purple-haired woman.
Naraka itself was an independent system. Not “Alliance member in good standing” independent, but in the truest sense of the word: it was registered as an anarchic system, with no system-wide authority, and the only thing that was showing on the star map as illegal was toxic waste. Other than that, it seemed as laissez-faire as you could get. It looked like the Federation-chartered corporation was trying to establish a foothold with a tiny mining outpost, but for now, they were only a bit player.
The tower operator granted my clearance to land with a terse warning to not cause trouble. Don’t you worry about me, friend. I’m just here to shake down one of the locals, have a beer, and leave in peace.
I set down, changed into some non-descript clothes, and looked down at my wrist display. Rax had rigged up a tracking program so that I could determine the last-known use of a person’s credit account- in this case, Kyndi’s. I also knew her ship’s ID number, and her residential block address as well. Crimea Heights, number 54-C. In case you just want to wait outside her door, he had said with a laugh. Like the trace job, he had done it for free, happy at the prospect of me providing even more free amusement for him and his mates. It wasn’t much use, though, since smugglers tended to use their accounts very little, and simply download their credits onto generic, untraceable cash chips. Kyndi’s account showed a purchase of 178 credits at some place called The Bear Den, two days ago. I scrolled a little further back in her purchase history. She looked to be a regular at the place, showing a pretty clear pattern of patronage at late-night hours.
Ok, the Bear Den it is.
I checked my watch. Well, station time is 19:30… my body is insisting that it’s well past bedtime… maybe a nap isn’t a bad idea before I indulge in the local nightlife.
Four hours later, I woke up and brewed some coffee. What kind of a place is this 'Bear Den'?
I sat down with my cup and accessed Novitski’s station network. I ran a search for The Bear Den, and it popped right up. I selected it, and-
<The Bear Den was established by a pair of understanding entrepreneurs in 3278, and has been a haven for those in search of fun and discretion ever since. Come as you are, and try not to get mauled!>
Fun and discretion, huh? Sounds like something Kyndi would look for in a place.
Getting up, I slipped on a black leather jacket and check myself out in the mirror. My dark brown beard was coming in as heavy as usual, so I grabbed an electric shaver and got rid of everything on my neck. Now I looked like I was ready to go out. I was wearing black boots, black trousers, a grey t-shirt, and my black leather jacket. This should be ok, right?
I followed the directions to get to the place. It was a ways away from the hangers, deep into the station. Every time the turbolift doors opened, it seemed like I was going to less and less well-lit areas. A place like Novitski is all-around sketchy to begin with, and the business block where I ended up at was, well- it wasn’t a place you took kids.
I could hear the place before I saw it. Even with thick steel bulkheads and doors, the muffled sound of throbbing disco beats was coming from inside. Sure enough, there it was: The Bear Den, spelled out on a giant neon sign, with a pair of dancing grizzlies just below it. Cute. I walked up to the rough-looking bouncer by the entrance. He was a large man, black leather vest, tattoos all over. “How much to get in?”
He looked me up and down and raised his eyebrows. “For you? On leather night? Nothing.”
Huh. I nodded. “Thanks.” He bopped his fist onto the door controls, and the muffled music suddenly amplified to concert-level volume as the door slid open. I walked down a short hall, where another pair of bouncers were waiting. I raised my hands and one waved a scanner in front of me while the other patted me down. The one doing the patting was doing a really thorough job. Judging by where his hands kept ending up, he seemed especially concerned that I might be hiding something in my- whoa there, buddy. He stood back up, looked me in the eye, and jerked his head towards the club. Was he smirking?
“You have fun in there.”
I nodded again. “Thanks.” That was weird.
A little further in, and I could tell that the place was huge- people were dancing everywhere, lounging everywhere in booth and couches, and the bar was as crowded as you’d expect. No sign of Kyndi. In fact, I couldn’t see a woman anywhere….
It was so obvious that I hadn’t even seen it. All around me, large, burly men of varying degrees of hairiness were dancing, talking, and grinding against each other. Some wore regular clothes, but lots were wearing only leather pants, shorts, and-
Ok. Now I see why it’s called the Bear Den. On the scale of things, I was terribly overdressed, but I fit in reasonably well because of the black leather jacket. I wormed my way through the line at the bar, and tried to get the bartender’s attention. Finally, he gave me chin lifty.
“What’ll it be?”
Almost shouting, I replied “Old Sol on the rocks! And I’m looking for Kyndi!”
He face twisted in confusion. “Who?”
I was now flat-out shouting: “Kyndi! Purple hair!” I made a running-hands-though-long-hair motion. The bartended quickly nodded. “Oh, yeah, yeah. She’s upstairs, room four!”
After a few minutes, I got my drink, and paid with a credit chip. I waved away the change, and started to look for stairs. They were quite a ways away from the main dance floor, and to get to it, I had to wade through hordes of sweaty man-bodies, and not a few unsolicited ass and crotch gropes. They weren’t exactly welcome, but there was no sense wasting time by getting angry, either.
Well, that’s the kind of thing that happens at places like this.
Upstairs was clearly an invite-only section of the club. As I approached the steps, another large man stepped in front of them as I walked. He blocked my view and help up his hand in a “stop” gesture.
“The upper floor is invitation only. Who are you?”
I’m the guy who’s going to get what’s his, pal.
“I’m here to see Kyndi, room 4.”
The man looked at me suspiciously. “I’ve never seen you in here before. What’s your business with her?”
I shrugged and tried my best to play it cool. “Business, as you say. You gonna keep her waiting?”
He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “She doesn’t usually do that here. Just locks herself in a private room and spends the night alone.” Hesitating a few moments, he stepped aside. “Don’t be too long. You ain’t the sort who should be here, and frankly”- the faintest look of interest showed up in his face- “That jacket is false advertising. You’ll break hearts if word gets out that you’re only here for business.”
I shrugged. “No one’s perfect, right?”
Room #4 wasn’t even locked. It was a setup styled after Old Earth feudal Japan, with the sliding wood and rice paper door. Inside was completely dark, except for a small oil lamp at a table and chair, and what was obviously a glowing cherry at the tip of… I sniffed… what had to be an Onionhead joint.
My eyes adjusted to the light, and there she was: Kyndi, reclining on a gigantic cushion almost twice as large as she was, wearing a loosely-fastened black kimono. Her eyes were closed in an expression of bliss, with her naked, creamy thighs splayed out from where her kimono was split.
She stirred slightly and spoke with a sleepy, dreamy voice. “Not yet, Gregor. The shiatsu can wait until this joint is history.”
I smiled and slid the door closed behind me.
“Gregor’s on break. They sent me instead.”
A confused look crossed Kyndi’s face, and then, with a burst of realization, she bolted upright, blood-shot eyes wide open.How long has she been at this? She looks like hell.
“Matt?”
I smiled and raised my drink. “Howdy, partner.”
She wavered slightly on the cushion, clearly baked out of her mind. “How the fu- what?”
I took a drink and spun the chair around, sitting on it with my arms crossed on top of the back. “I see you made it back in one piece. Maybe that artifact ain’t so bad for ships, after all.”
For a few moments, Kyndi just stared, taking deep breaths and opening and closing her eyes to clear them. Then, she calmed down and reverted into her usual composed self. Her eyes flashed as she looked me up and down.
“Well, you may be a lousy treasure hunter, but you’re a first-class stalker, Matty. Maybe I should have blasted your engines with my ship instead of your rifle.”
I smiled. “Thanks for leaving it behind, by the way.”
Her face soured. “You can have the stupid thing. Going through those two clips did this.” She pulled down one side of her kimono, revealing a well-bruised shoulder. “Even the atmo suit didn’t protect from the recoil.”
Kyndi took another drag and smiled arrogantly. “But the reward once I got it back here was- well, it more than made up for the hassle.”
I gestured around the room. “Hence the celebration?”
She snorted. “This? This is just how a girl relaxes after a hard day in the office.”
“Seems like an odd place for a woman to be.”
That got me a sly grin. “Well, privacy is hard to come by on a starport- and it’s safe to say that the men here leave me alone. Besides”- she took another drag of her joint- “most of the more interesting refreshments at this club are delivered by me, anyway. You could say that I have an arrangement with the owners.”
“Let’s hope you honor that arrangement better than the one we had.” I reached in my jacket pocked and pulled out a credit chip. “Load ‘er up.”
A look of amusement crossed Kyndi’s face. “Or else what? You’re gonna hurt me? Kill me? Lay hands on me?” She leaned forward, her kimono falling forward, revealing the curves of her breasts. “You ain’t got it in you. You can blast a ship because it’s easy to think of as an object, even when you know there’s someone inside. But this”- she pulled down the other side of her garment, baring herself before me- “This is real. And you're no killer, Matty.”
I smiled and shook my head. “I’ve got it on good authority that you ain’t, either. I don’t think you were ever serious about that bullet in my head.”
She smiled back. “Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. Either way, you’re still breathing because of me. So why don’t you call it even and mix it up with all the other hairy men down there? They’d love to get a piece of you.”
I held up the chip in front of her face. “It’ll be even when ninety grand is loaded onto this chip.”
Outside, we heard what sounded like gas being released. We could hear what sounded like enthusiastic screams, and the music seemed to intensify. Kyndi giggled and gestured outside the rice paper walls. “They’re releasing Purity out there, Matty. You know what that is?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I guess I was a sheltered child.”
She inhaled deeply, as though trying to get a whiff of the stuff. “It’s a cocktail of different drugs. Cannabis, X, coke, pure caffeine- if it puts you in a good mood and gives you energy, it’s in there.” She shook her head smiled coyly. “Nothing like a good dose of Purity to spice up a romp. And it’s all made from modern, neurofidelic shit, so you never develop an immunity to it. The three-hundredth hit is as sweet as the first.”
Kyndi crawled forward on the cushion as her kimono started to fall off of her. “In fact, I’m thinking of a pretty good way to make everything up to you. How about I just take a stroll around, breathe deep, and come right back? You just lay down here”- she patted the enormous cushion- “and I’ll make sure you leave this nightclub a happy man. How’s that sound, Matty Matt?”
I smiled. “I wouldn’t take that offer if you were the only woman in this club.”
Kyndi’s smiled back and placed her free hand on my thigh, sliding it up further and further. “I am the only woman in this club.” I gripped her wrist firmly with my hand and held it between our faces.
“You’re embarrassing yourself, darlin’.” I squeezed her wrist hard for a moment, and dismissively released it.
She stared at me for a few moments in exasperation, mouth agape. Then, she stood up in frustration, finished the joint, and retied the kimono over herself. She glanced over her shoulder contemptuously as she was tightening the sash.“Careful, Matty- I ain’t got much use for men who grow a brain.”
“And my bread and butter comes from not giving a shit when criminals are pleading for their lives.” I tossed the chip over, watching her catch it in the low light. “Ninety grand. Right now. Then I leave forever, and you can resume getting wrecked out of your skull.”
I saw her exhale slowly and look up. “I ain’t got it with me. It’s in my apartment.”
I chuckled. “Well, ain’t that a bitch.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Why don’t I just get dressed, and we can take a stroll over there?”
I let out a snort. “What, so that you can scream and a dozen hairy, leather-thong-wearing men take me down?” I shook my head. “We leave separately. Your place. In one hour.”
I saw Kyndi tremble a little. “Fine. Mir Gardens, 23-F.”
Shaking my head, I got up from the chair and stood close behind her. Through the rice paper, the disco beats continued to thump. “Careful, darlin’. How about Crimea Heights, 54- C?”
Still facing the rice paper wall, Kyndi turned her head to glare at me.
“Right,” she hissed. I smiled.
“I’m glad we understand each other. Your place. One hour. Don’t stand me up.” I finished my drink, and set it back down on the table. “Stalking ain’t my style, darlin’, and I’d hate to waste all that gentleman cred I’ve got built up with you- so just do us both a favor and be there.”
She didn’t say anything, just glaring ahead and nodding.
“That’s a good girl.” I patted her on the ass on my way out, causing her to jump a little. “Tah-tah, now!”
I closed the rice paper door behind me, allowing myself a satisfied smile. Damn, that felt good.
A large, elderly man with a towel draped over his arm was walking up to Kyndi’s private room. He looked at me oddly. I looked at him back. “You Gregor?”
He nodded his head. “I am Gregor, yes.” He had thick, old-Earth Russian accent.
I smiled and jerked my thumb towards Kyndi’s room. “Well, you’d better get in there. She needs you something fierce.”
One hour later, I knocked on Kyndi’s door. Crimea Heights, 54-C. You’d better be here.
For a moment, there was no response. Then, I heard the sound of both mechanical and powered locks being worked, and the door slid open. Behind it was Kyndi’s scowling face. This time, she was dressed in jeans, a black shirt, red-tinted vanity glasses, and a black leather jacket. Without a word, she stepped aside, and I walked into Kyndi’s apartment.
What is it with criminals and trashed apartments?
Her flat was flat-out competing with Rax’s in terms of clutter, garbage, and ad-hoc computer setups. I looked around, and then at her.
“Time to fire the maid, darlin’.”
Kyndi’s scowl grew. “I wasn’t really expecting company today, ok?”
I gestured to her computer setup. “Hacking setup?”
She shrugged. “Comes in handy when you do what I do.”
“I bet it does. So- the credits?”
She smiled sarcastically. “Right this way.”
I followed her into her bedroom- which also had the same kind of nasty, bare mattress on the floor. Next to the mattress was another computer setup.
The hell does she do from here? Kyndi crawled onto her mattress and slipped her hands under the pillow, turning around to look at me. “It’s right here.” I couldn’t help but notice the odd look in her eye.
She was fast, but I was faster. The moment I saw the butt of the pistol peek from under the pillow, I reached for my own weapon- I had stopped by The Professor and armed myself, since a pilot carrying a sidearm wasn’t an uncommon sight on Novitski. Now, I drew it as fast as I could while lunging forward and knocking Kyndi’s pistol out of her grip just as she was swinging it around. I slammed her against the wall. In a matter of seconds, she was pressed against the wall face-first, pinned by me. We were both breathing heavily from the adrenaline rush.
“Don’t complicate things, darlin’,” I whispered in her ear. “I’m just here for the money.” Both her hands were tucked under her jacket, moving slightly. Noticing, I took a half step back and held the gun an inch from her head.
“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, you’d best reconsider,” I growled.
She looked over her shoulder and smiled, just a little. “You know Matty, we can still work this out like grown-ups. My offer from earlier still stands.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Yeah?”
Her smile grew just a little. “Yeah.”
Kyndi's hands were still moving under her jacket. Gotta keep an eye on that.“Then maybe you can answer a question.”
“Try me.” Her voice was gradually becoming more seductive.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t put you in cuffs and haul your ass right to the local Pilot’s Fed office. There’s bound to be a juicy ol’ bounty on it somewhere.”
Kyndi looked over her shoulder, arched her back, and slowly pushed her two perfect lumps against me. She smiled coyly. “Because this is juicier than any bounty could ever be.” She pressed a little more, and I could feel her move up and down slightly. ”And I bet you’d just love to get me in handcuffs, wouldn’t you?”
Not this time, bitch. I pushed the gun against her temple, tilting her head a little. “Hands.”
Kyndi scowled, and I saw the knife drop to the floor by our feet as her right hand came into view. I kicked it away. “Other one.”
“I’m clean.”
I pushed the pistol against her head a little harder. “Other one.”
Kyndi’s scowl grew even more as the stunner in her palm fell and shattered. “That cost me five-hundred credits, asshole.”
“Well, it cost me sixty grand and a chunk of my dignity.”
I took another step back and motioned with the gun for her to turn around. She did so, hands still up and a weary look in her eyes, all traces of seductiveness gone. I held out my other hand.
“Credits. Now.”
For the first time, a look of resignation and defeat began to spread over her face. She looked down to her feet. She was barely murmuring. “I ain’t got it.”
Sure you don’t, darling.
I jerked my hand forward another inch. “Don’t play games. Hand ‘em over. I don’t know what kind of tricks you’ve got up your sleeve, but I will goddamn end you if you keep this horseshit going.”
She glared at me and pursed her lips, which were beginning to- tremble? Breathing a little heavy, she shrugged off her jacket, and then swiftly took off her shirt, standing before me in jeans and a black bra. She held out her arms in a gesture of contempt.
“See, Matty? No wires, no hidden anything- I’m not goddamn playing games.”
I gestured towards a computer with the gun. “Show me.”
She slowly bent over the keyboard, and used one hand to type.
<Account balance, Kyndi M.>
<Your current balance is: 728 credits>
Son of a bitch.
Kyndi looked around her apartment and gave me one of her smartass looks. “That’s after I sold most of my personal stash. You want to tear the place apart and look for credit chips? Be my guest. I’ll be right here.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I sat down on one of the chairs, and gestured for her to sit. She squatted down onto her bed and sat with her legs crossed.
“Explain.”
Another scowl crossed Kyndi’s face, this time not directed at me. She looked down at her lap and resumed speaking- this time in a subdued, more humble tone.“I never made the drop. The goddamn artifact- I thought that if I pushed it, I could make it back before it started to affect the systems. I was wrong. Everything in my ship started going haywire halfway through the run, so I had to make a pit stop and get rid of it.”
She took a deep breath, her tattooed belly expanding slightly. “My client didn’t take too kindly to failure. The way he saw it, I had three choices to compensate him for wasted time: pay him everything I’d saved, fork over my ship, or let him and his men have my body for one week. He’s… big around here, so I didn't have much bargaining room.”
I shrugged. “So you deep-sixed your savings to bail yourself out?”
Another scowl. “Yeah. Two goddamn mil- everything I had that wasn’t my ship or my gear.”
I lowered the gun slightly. “So, you weren’t celebrating back in the club.”
She snorted. “Not by a damn sight. I was trying to bake myself into the next dimension to forget about the whole mess. Then you walked in to remind me of it all.”
I shook my head. “What was the plan after that?”
The young woman in front of me shrugged and drew her knees up to her chest. “Max my tab with every Onionhead dealer in Novitski and sell it like crazy in other systems. If I didn’t smoke it all on the way, that is.”
I cocked my head at her. “A dozen tons of O-head is quite a lot for one person.”
She smiled slightly. “It's a challenge I would have accepted.”
I sighed, looking up at the ceiling. An air vent fan spun around and around above my head. “How do I know you’re being real with me?”
Again, Kyndi just gave a defeated shrug. “You don’t. But I’ll give you directions to the artifact buyer who took my credits. I’m sure he’ll be happy to recount how it all went down.”
I didn’t say anything for a few moments while I pondered the situation. Images of my father appeared. The only thing worse than not getting what you want- I smiled. “.. is getting it.”
Kyndi looked up. “What?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Just thinking about how life works out.”
She sighed. “Yeah. I’ve been doing a lot of that, too.” I received a contemptuous gaze. “You know, if I had done what I promised and hot-potatoed that artifact with you, we’d have probably made it.”
“Well, we’ll never know, will we?”
Kyndi was still looking at me, but differently- like the wheels in her head were turning. “Not necessarily. I know exactly where the thing is. I didn’t just jettison it, you know. It’s hidden away where no one will ever find it.”
I cocked my head to the side. “What are you saying?”
Some of Kyndi’s usual confidence began to trickle back into her expression. “I’m saying that one pilot could never make the trip. But two pilots, flying two ships, taking turns carrying the cargo…“ She was looking me up and down with her eyebrows raised. “Especially if those two pilots had worked together before…”
I opened my mouth, not finding the words. “You have got to be shitting me. You’re saying that we get out there and finish the job?”
Kyndi nodded, smiling slightly. The wheels were spinning faster. “Yes I am, Matty. There ain’t no shortage of buyers for alien artifacts. The ones here on Novitski will pay eighty or ninety grand a pop, easy. And if my scans were reading right, there's a hell of a lot more of them back at that crash site.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “You’re proposing this- after everything you've pulled?”
“I’ll write you an apology, ok?”
I stood up, physically distancing myself from her a few steps. “I don’t even like you, you crazy, backstabbing bitch!”
Kyndi stood up, smiled, and put her hands on her half-exposed hips.
“Matty, when there’s this many credits on the line, that doesn’t mean a damn thing.”