Authors: Quincy J. Allen
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction, #Dystopian
Chemical Burn (29 page)
The finishing touch on his outfit was a pair of the biggest black sunglasses he could find. They covered almost half of his face. He grabbed his backpack and walked out, his ankles wobbling only a little, and his ass wiggling a lot more than he would have thought possible.
The walk through the labyrinth unnerved him, but he didn’t see a soul as he made it to the last, long hallway that led to the main lobby. Turning the last corner, he saw two rent-a-cops walking his way. He almost froze, but common sense kept him walking straight at them. As the distance closed, his heart beat faster and faster, and he felt his cheeks flush. He stared straight ahead at the two men and realized something. Neither of them looked at his face. One was obviously a leg man, and the other couldn’t keep his eyes off Xen’s padded tits.
So this is what it’s like
, Xen thought ironically. It was no accident that Xen spent the rest of his life looking women in the eyes when he talked to them.
“Hey, how ya doing, miss?” the leg man said provocatively. They partially blocked the hallway, so Xen had to stop. He looked down slightly, trying to act shy. His mind raced as he tried to figure a way out of this.
“Are you new around here,” the tit man asked. “I don’t recall seeing you before.”
An idea popped into Xen’s head. He put on his best Chinese woman’s accent and hoped it did the job. “Me … new … how you say …” and he made a typing motion with his hands.
“Receptionist?” the leg man offered.
Xen smiled broadly and nodded his head vigorously. “That it!” he added. “Me … new … rec-cept-shun-ist,” he finished slowly. “Work late to catch up. Must go now.…” he added quickly and pushed between them.
“Have a nice day, miss,” the tit man added.
Xen beamed as he walked away. He’d actually pulled it off. As he walked down the hall, he put a little more swing in his stride. The two men stared at his shapely, swaying ass.
Xen owned it, walking like every hooker he’d ever seen in a movie … right up until his ankle gave way and he stumbled. He recovered quickly and heard some chuckling behind him. He started walking a little more stiffly to avoid tripping again, raised his right hand, and gave them both the finger.
Both men guffawed at the sight and applauded.
Xen walked through the lobby, waving at a maintenance guy talking to one of the office cleaners, pressed the door-lever with his palms, and walked out into open air. He’d made it. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, stopped, and set the backpack down. He pulled out a pay-as-you-go cell phone he’d bought at the mall. He’d spoken broken English then, too, telling the clerk that he’d lost his wallet and job and needed a phone to call friends and get everything squared away. It wasn’t standard policy, but the kid caved in when Xen tucked a hundred dollar bill in his pocket.
Using his woman’s voice and maintaining the broken English, Xen dialed the number for a major cab company to come pick him up out on the main road. He told them his car had broken down and he would be walking away from the plant. They said they’d have a man out in about thirty minutes.
Xen went back to his car, opened the trunk, pulled out his suitcase, and hit the sidewalk with fast, steady strides. About twenty minutes later a cab came up behind him. The guy helped Xen with the suitcase, trying to make small talk, but Xen laid it on thick with the accent so he wouldn’t have to say much.
“Where to, miss?” the guy asked as they both got in the cab.
“Bus station,” he said quietly.
I’m almost home free,
he thought as he stared at the cab driver in the rearview mirror.
“You got it.” The cabbie flipped the meter and off they went.
Twenty minutes later Xen paid the man, adding a sizeable tip, and headed into the bus station. He paid cash for a ticket to the Grand Canyon and sat comfortably in his seat two hours later as it pulled out of the station. He’d always wanted to see the Grand Canyon, and on the possibility that he might actually get killed in the near future, he considered it a good place to lie low.
O O O
“I spent the week in a motel near the Grand Canyon,” Xen said, “whiling away the hours walking around and enjoying the scenery.” He pulled on a cigar and blew the smoke out proudly.
“Xen,” I said, my voice filling with admiration, “you can have my job. That was a hell of a piece of work.”
“Thank you.”
“So, out of curiosity …” I stared at Xen with a great big smile on my face. “How’d you like the pantyhose?”
He looked unsure for a minute, glancing at both of us, struggling with some internal conflict.
“Come on, be honest. I just told you I was a fucking alien.”
“Honestly?” he asked shyly.
“Yeah,” Rachel prompted.
A subtle smile spread over his face, turning to a clowning one. “I kind of liked it.”
We all laughed.
“So did I when I had to wear them,” I said between laughs. “Glad I’m not the only one … Kilts are pretty cool too, especially commando,” I added.
“I’ll have to try that.” He shook his head.
“You should, you have better legs than I do.”
“That’s true,” he added proudly.
Rachel looked at both of us, grinning. “You guys want some help? I know a few clubs I could take you to. You could dress up real pretty. I’ll even help you do your makeup … We’ll get Marsha and have a girls’ night out.”
We laughed at that, and the laughing lasted for a while.
I finally caught my breath. “Shit, that’s funny. I’m tempted to take you up on that just to see what it’s like.”
“Okay,” Xen said, breathing heavily through the laughs. “This is getting a little weird.”
“Prude!” Rachel shot at him, which renewed the laughter.
“Look,” I interrupted, “I hate to break this up, but we really do have to get that data to O’Neil.”
“Oh yeah, right,” he said. “Do you have wireless here?”
“Nope, and there’s too much data to use the dialup, even with the compression I have set up. And this far from my loft, the planet gets in the way of my primary signal.”
“Oh.” Xen looked disappointed.
“If it’s wireless in your loft, why don’t we just open the front door,” Rachel offered, chiming in.
I was about to say something smart and then paused, thinking about it. “I never thought of that. Sweetie, you’re a genius.”
“Can we finish these, first?” Xen held up his cigar
“It
would
be criminal to waste them.” I blew out a large cloud of Cuban delight.
A few minutes later, I sat in the living room with the front door open to my loft and the laptop in front of me. I stuck in the thumb drive, spent a few minutes zipping up data into sizes that would get through O’Neil’s email gateway and then shipped them off.
I grabbed my cell phone and dialed O’Neil. “Hey. Yeah, it’s me. I just sent that data over. It’s in your email. A couple dozen zip files. Let me know if any didn’t come through,” I paused. “See ya.” I closed my phone and turned to my friends. “Cigars and dinner at the casino?”
“Yes!” they said in unison.
I shot a thumb at Xen. “Dinner is on moneybags over here with his three hundred grand.”
“My pleasure.” He bowed his head, and we went over to the casino.
***
Just Like Normal People
After dinner at the casino, Rachel and I went to the loft for some private time and we fell asleep in each other’s arms. In the morning, I opened my eyes to see Rachel sitting up on one elbow and scratching Mag between the ears. Mag, rasping quietly, had taken up residence between us. I suddenly realized that Mag and I had been a team, just the two of us, for over a hundred years. It never occurred to me that Magdelain might reject Rachel. I reached out and scratched Mag under the chin. The rasping picked up in volume.
“I take it you two are sorting things out?” I asked hopefully.
“I believe we already have.” Rachel rubbed the top of Mag’s head vigorously, and Mag returned the affection by licking Rachel’s hand. “We’ve become fast friends.”
“Can’t tell you how happy that makes me. You’re my two favorite people.”
“She
is
people, isn’t she?” Rachel’s voice held a tinge of awe.
“Yeah. Treat her like a teenage daughter … well, more like sister,” I corrected thoughtfully. “An incredibly deadly one. She understands English … and my native tongue, of course. And I’m teaching her Spanish. She just can’t speak any of it, no vocal chords. There have been times when I wish they’d given her vocal chords and me claws.”
“You two really were made for each other?”
“Yep. We share a lot of DNA, and we were designed to complement each other when we work … well, play is a better word for it, as sick as that sounds, even to me. The people who created us really did know what they were doing in that regard. We’re the most dangerous brother and sister you ever met.”
“So, I’m in bed with you and your sister?” Rachel raised an eyebrow. “
Kinky
,” she added a bit seductively, putting her hand on my arm and Mag’s back.
“Pervert!” I cried, feigning moral outrage.
Mag smiled and licked my face. Both females looked at me suggestively, and up until that moment, I wouldn’t have thought Mag was capable of the feat.
“You’re both perverts!” I repeated, but with considerably less feigning this time.
Rachel started laughed, and Mag gave me one of her
I-got-you
smiles.
My face shifted to the realization of a sobering truth. “I’ve just been outnumbered, haven’t I?” A strange sort of fear struck at my insides.
“Yep.” Rachel and Mag smiled even more.
Mag took her paw and put it on my mouth.
“I think she’s trying to say,
Shut-up and accept your fate
,” Rachel added.
Mag nodded to her and then looked back at me with a smile.
“This is going to take some getting used to,” I said mostly to myself and then rolled out of bed. “How about a shower and some breakfast while I try and figure out how to get the upper hand on the two of you?”
“Only if you let me join you.” Rachel stood up and walked towards the back of the loft.
I looked at Mag. “You want to come?” I asked a bit sarcastically.
She shook her head, gave me an
I’ll-pass-on-this-one-ace
look and rolled over on her side, closing her eyes.
I followed Rachel through the back door of the loft, into the bathroom on the right. We spent the next forty-five minutes scrubbing, which turned into exploring, which turned into … well … none of your damn business. I dried myself off quickly, got dressed and went to prepare breakfast.
Rachel came out fully dressed fifteen minutes later, and we sat down to bacon, eggs, and orange juice. Mag still slept, curled up on the bed. Rachel walked over to the living area and fiddled with the remote when my phone rang.
I grabbed it and, seeing the caller, answered. “Hi Marsha! How’s the job coming?”
“Really well,” she said enthusiastically. “You did say carte blanche, right?” The hesitation in her voice told me she planned on doing the place to the nines.
“That I did,” I replied warily. “If you haven’t added in some video poker and live baccarat, consider it. Turns out Xen is a wiz at baccarat. Did Stanley hook you up with that designer?”
My TV came on to the news, and Rachel had to quickly turn down the volume.
“Yes! And she’s really good …
at a number of things
,” she added seductively. It sounded to me as if Marsha had found a new playmate.
“I’m glad to hear it,” my voice carried an understanding smile. “You two an item?”
“Naw … this is just playtime. We both have our work, you know? But that’s not the reason I called.”
“Really? What can I do you for then?”
“The doctor gave me a clean bill of health yesterday. I can start training again, and I really want to. I’ve been going stir crazy from not being able to work out. Can we?”
“Hell yes! We’ll start tomorrow tonight if you like. I think … hang on.” I pulled the phone away from my ear and focused on Rachel who was engrossed in something on the television. “You want to start training with Marsha tomorrow?”
Rachel peeled her eyes away from the T.V. and looked at me, confusion turned to excitement. “You bet!” she replied enthusiastically. “I can’t wait!” I saw a flicker of the predator show itself on her face and then disappear back into whatever had caught her attention on the TV.
I put the phone back to my ear. “It’s a date. Come on over to the house around five and bring your gear. Oh, and if you want to stay at the house tonight and start working out on your own, you’re more than welcome. We won’t be there till tomorrow.”
“I think I’ll take you up on that … Oh, and Justin?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you and Rachel finally got together. I really like her.”
The comment made me feel warm. “Thanks, Marsha. Me too. I’ll see you then.”
“Ciao!” She hung up.
Rachel looked at me with an astonished face. “Justin Case?”
“Uhh … yeah … that’s me.” I looked around in confusion, wondering if it was a trick question.
“No …” She pointed to the TV. “You have a movie called
Justin Case
.”
Realization flooded through me. “Oh shit! I forgot that was in there … yeah, I watch it every now and again.”
“They made a movie about you?” she asked incredulously as she pressed pause.
I laughed. “No. That’s the first movie I saw after arriving on Earth. I liked the character and the name, so I used it.”
“Justin isn’t your real name?”
“Sure it is. It says so on one of my driver’s licenses.” I reached for my wallet to prove it to her.
“You know what I mean,” she accused. She shook her head.
“Yeah, I do,” I said smiling a bit evasively.
“So, are you going to tell me your real name, or do I have to beat it out of you?” she challenged.
“Jalin,” I said a bit somberly. “No last name. They used to call me Jalin, but he’s dead … well, at least mostly. He crops up when the killing starts, though.” A sad look flickered across my face at the memory, partly because of what I used to be, but more because of what I used to do. Jalin is the mean, heartless son-of-a-bitch who enjoys killing. When he takes over, there’s just the sheer delight of ending people. It took me a long time to put reins on him, and I have him under control, but I feel a little dirty every time I let him creep out from under his rock and do what he does.
But now he does what
I
tell him.
“I didn’t mean to dredge up painful memories.…”
“No, it’s okay. No secrets …” I smiled, walked over, leaned down and kissed her. “Not with you, anyway.” She smiled up at me and put her hand warmly against my cheek. I’m sure she wouldn’t press me on it, but I figured she wanted to know more about Jalin and why I hated him so much.
“Can I watch it?” she asked.
“Go right ahead. I’m going to get caught up on email while you do that. Want some popcorn?”
She shook her head and pressed play.
O O O
“How’s Xen doing on the data?” Rachel asked as I handed her a beer. She lounged on the patio of the Costa Rica house, the afternoon sun tanning every inch of skin not covered by a skimpy, pink bikini. We’d come through shortly after the movie. When it ended, Rachel had said it was cute. I knew she was being generous.
“He’s engrossed,” I replied as I got ready to hit the beach. “I’ve never seen him work before, and he’s tackling it with a passion. He did say that what Shao came up with is absolutely brilliant. Xen’s words not mine, which is saying something. Basically, the bulk of the process takes place at DiMarco’s plant, but the last phase happens on-site at the dry-cleaners with some sort of converter or extractor. He’s digging into that now.”
“Tell me something,” she said, looking up through squinted eyes.
I moved to block the sunlight, reached over to the table and grabbed her sunglasses. I delicately put them on her face.
“Thanks,” she said as I sat down. I wore a pair of Hawaiian print swim-trunks that I know Rachel had to force herself not to comment on.
“Anything,” I said, meaning it.
“Why do you do it? Work as a detective, I mean. You obviously don’t need money … and come to think of it, most of the people you work for almost never pay you. You might as well be a cop.”
I smiled. “You know damn well that I’m not cop material. Like O’Neil is always telling me, cops have to play by the rules … or are at least they’re supposed to.”
“Clearly. But as you like to say, that doesn’t answer the question. Why do you do it? Why risk your life and work so hard to go after guys like DiMarco?”
“The moment he came after Xen, he was a dead man. But that’s not what you’re asking.” I looked at her closely. “You ever read Andrew Jackson?”
Her face told me she thought I was changing the subject. “A little … in college. Not much, why?”
“Well, when I first got here, I read a lot about your history … Earth history and American history … getting a better grasp of my new home. You know?”
“And?”
“Well, there’s something he wrote that I think is applicable anywhere and everywhere sentient beings live. And people are people on every planet where there’s a hut, town or stack of skyscrapers.”
“What did he write?”
“
All tyranny needs to gain a foothold is for people of good conscience to remain silent
.” I took a long swig of beer, and my eyes were looking at something far off, something that troubled me deeply. “That’s how I came to be, you know. Men of good conscience were silent as men without a conscience created me … and used me … me and Magdelain.”
“Justin? Are you okay?” she asked.
“I hate what I was before, you know.” I could feel tears forming in my eyes, and I took another swig of beer. “I’m ashamed of it.”
Rachel reached out and touched my hand.
“Back then, I
was
DiMarco and Pyotr. Or at least the tool of such men … and I enjoyed it.” My voice overflowed with self-loathing. “Right up until my father showed me what I was doing. He found out what these men were using his creation to do. My father was the first man of good conscience in my life who spoke up.”
“I’ve never seen you like this,” she said gently. “Are you okay?”
I sniffed and wiped a tear from my cheek. I looked at her and smiled, laughing slightly. “I am now … I have been since I got to Earth. And I do more than not remain silent with creatures like DiMarco because I
can
.”
“You’re a good man, Justin.”
“I’m not a man at all,” I reminded her with a wry grin.
She looked at my caringly. “Yes you are. The best I’ve ever known.”
“You need to get out more.” I winked, and we laughed together.
My swim forgotten, we spent the next few hours talking about life and the universe … nothing specific, the small talk of two people who, out of the darkness and chaos, found comfort in each other.
***
