Come to Jesus Meeting - Part 1
04 Jan 2018MMMMMalcolm
Kay took the courier on her shopping spree. She said she shouldn't leave me alone; muttering something about the strange things I come up with. I remind her of the nice welcomes it affords her. She looks at me sideways but I win, this time. When she leaves, I board Warm Embrace; intent on giving some local pilots some hugs. The nav computer was detecting coordinates of a nearby conflict zone. After I arrive, and side with Ajoku Industries, I go to work.Warm Embrace does not dance. She has two left feet and a big butt; she’s more at home in a mosh pit. So, I dropped her in and let her push the little guys around. While she clubbed, bumped, and shoved the Asps, Vultures, and Pythons foolish enough to get close to her, I monitored her temperature, heart rate, and energy levels. So far her training has been clean, no steroids of any kind enhancing her A-rating, so she gets tired quick. When another Anaconda slid over to ask her to dance, she politely declined and excused herself for some refreshments. One ring of shields would not be enough to rebuff a handsy Conda. We partied like this for a few hours, and then went back to Firsoff Orbital to crash; declining all after party invites.
The next day I woke up late. Late nights tend to spawn late mornings. After a quick shower I hung out in the “gym”. So far my training has been clean too. Running, pushups, crunches, and shadow boxing. Sparring with Kay has been helpful; but neither of us wants to hurt the other, so it’s limited. It was time to step out of the shadows. I remember Kay's comment about my strange ideas and quickly shoo the memory away.
That night, around 2300 hours, I headed toward the more social areas of the station. I walked, instead of taking the tram, as an impromptu warm up. I then blended in with the socialites; hopping from club to club or bar to bar. I smiled a little as I easily fell back into skills honed on the streets and back alleys of Earth. I ordered water on the rocks and pretended it was gin or vodka or some other clear alcohol. Now was not to the time to have dulled senses. Then I observed my fellow revelers.
My guardian is between six four and six six. Is there anyone… there, near the opposite end of the bar. My guardian is medium build, and though his tailored suits hide his muscles, I have first-hand experience with his strength. The guy at the bar appears bigger. Good, the extra strength should account for his lack of training and the shots he keeps downing every five minutes. When he sways toward the bathroom, I excuse myself from the female pilot I’ve been halfway chatting with, and follow him.
At the door, my heart starts to race. This is nothing like the bump and grab pickpocket scheme on Earth. Screw this up and it will hurt; a lot. I banish the thought and enter. My mark is at a urinal on the far wall. No one else is here. I lock the door behind me. While he’s still busy with his business, I start in on him.
“Hey! I don’t appreciate you flirting with my girl!”
“What?!” He answers, turning his head but not his body. Multitasking is hard, drunk it’s harder, stressed it’s near impossible.
“You heard me, you melon headed Neanderthal.”
“Look, dude…”
“No you look, as in somewhere else for your entertainment or a hangover won’t be the only pain you’re nursing in the morning!”
I pushed him from behind just as he was finishing up. He wasn’t too happy about wetting himself. That should do it.
“You little prick!” he exclaimed as he zipped up and turned towards me. Yep two to three inches taller, definitely four inches wider. He grabbed my throat. And much stronger.
I grabbed at his hand with my left, struggling to get free. But, that was not my real aim. I was hoping my flailing distracted him while I straightened all the fingers of my right hand and jammed them into his throat. He let me go, backed up, and bent over gasping for air. I backed up a step also; shocked the guy had me off the ground by my neck.
If I had a gun, I could shoot the man mountain in the face. But, I’m not trying to kill the brute. I only want to see… Okay, he got his second wind.
He charged me like a linebacker, and drove me against the wall. His left hand pinned me while his right hand flew toward my face. If he wasn't drunk and I hadn’t tilted my head to the right, my left eye socket would have been broken instead of the wall tiles and the bones in his hand. He let me go, focused more on his pain than on his grip.
I dropped down on my left knee and punched him in the groin. "No matter how big they are," I could hear Kay saying. "they all have the same soft spots." When he bent forward, I launched myself with my right leg. I made sure I focused on my right foot as the crown of my head slammed into his chin. The big guy stiffened up; all six foot six of him. The back of his head cracked a sink when he fell to the floor. Broken hand, not writing about me. Broken jaw, not talking about me. Concussion, not even remembering me. This was fun; stupid but fun. Maybe Kay was right about the things I think up. After checking his pulse to make sure he still lived, I left him in the small pool of blood from his head. Sweating and breathing hard, I was glad I nixed my original idea to take on three guys at once. I slipped out through the noise and confusion of the club.
Back at the dock and safely in my ship, I promised myself I wouldn’t do that again. I just exercised and fought in the conflict zone until Kay returned.