Chaz and I left Maab with the truck in the bay and decided to go out looking for some male amusements. He’s a big on the houses in Paradise Sector and brags about his discount for being a regular customer. I always tell him that the cost is based on size and or time spent, so it just looks like a discount. Usually he just says something about my mother, but since I learned early how little she mattered, it runs off like rain. But insult his mother and his Latino blood will start to boil. Then you better run for cover.
I took my time choosing the girl and in the meantime, Chaz chose two and headed off to what he called “his regular room.” For some reason, most people wouldn’t brag about having a “regular” room in a whorehouse, but then he’s not most people. I wondered if he ever thought about going after a woman and trying out that relationship thing. I even asked him once as a joke. His response was something like he told me a while back: “Too much man there for one woman.”
More like too much ego.I ended up with a cute Chang girl named Cherry and she led me to a room that smelled like rose petals and scented candles. There were fake silk sheets on the bed and the room was decorated in a simple Chang style. It was a lot cleaner than I expected and she even had an up to date health card. It’s funny that she is technically a SLA employee and because of the line of work they require weekly checkups. What kind of person would willingly choose this kind of profession? I shouldn’t think about it too much, after all I didn’t want to think about the kind of person that chose mine.
The evening (15 minutes?) was mostly what I needed, but empty like I expected. The business was done and all the testosterone that had been floating my eyeballs was back at a normal level. Provided I didn’t catch a disease, I could write it off as a success and maybe stop hyperventilating around Maab. The empty part stayed with me for some reason. I guess I’m still a dreamer and a romantic at heart.
As I got dressed and the girl was pulling on her robe, I noticed a set of scars on her back. There was a star pattern of raised skin on her right shoulder blade and a connected line across her back. Those were the kinds of marks a heavy duty shock prod, like the ones we use makes. Why the hell a SLA employee had them, I don’t know. Would one of the marks we brought in be sold to SLA? Curious.
Chaz must have paid someone to tell them when I came back to the lobby, because he made a grand entrance.
“Looks like someone I know deserves a ‘discount’! How long did it take, ten minutes?” He was grinning, but then he did come down just after I did.
“Fifteen minutes makes you more of a man than a ten minute run?”
He laughed and tossed his arm over my shoulder, turning me toward the door. I hesitated for a moment.
“Wait up, I need to pay the balance.”
“Everything except the tip is already taken care of bro. Like I said, I get a discount. Besides, this is my treat. You can buy the drinks.”
We hit a bar called Cutters for a few drinks. It’s not the kind of place Slops are welcome, but you always keep your eyes open. The owner, a man named Jacque, has connections to just about anything that Slayer doesn’t. Most of the bouncers pack Dark Night weapons, so it was easy to see who backed the place. It’s one of the few places my kind feels somewhat safe.
After a couple of beers I headed for the men’s room and shook my head. There’s a guard in place in one corner to make sure there aren’t problem here either. Wonder if the guy hands out towels? As far as I know, the guy in here doesn’t speak, but then the “man-code” means you don’t talk to anyone when you use the urinal. I didn’t try to start a conversation and left feeling self-conscious.
On my way out I saw that Chaz had company at the table. Three people were standing facing his seat and me, talking to him. Possibilities ran through my mind about what kind of trouble we could run into here, but I drew a blank. Then I recognized the face in the center and relaxed slightly. A different kind of tension ran up my spine.
“Hello Kathy.” I said as I walked up. Her two friends fanned out slightly and watched me. I made sure to show the Dobermans my hands were empty, but they kept alert.
“Hey Michael. How’s it hangin?” She said with a grin. I was reminded of how nice her smile is and the last time she gave me an honest one. It had been six months or so since I’ve seen her, and we didn’t part on good terms. She stepped up, hugging me and I felt the armor in her clothing. After a moment, she leaned forward to kiss me, but I turned and her lips pressed to my cheek. I politely hugged her back, but like I said, I’m not comfortable with that kind of closeness. Not anymore.
“I’m good. You look like life’s been good to you.” I said and looked her over. She was wearing what appeared to be expensive clothes and looked healthy. The concealed armor was some sort of vest. It hinted at the kind of threat she normally deals with.
“Yeah it has. Didn’t expect to run into you here. You still wasting your life on that ‘thing?’”
That “thing” was how she always referred to the Trade, something she doesn’t think much of. She’s one of the few people outside of my coworkers that know exactly what I do, and she never liked me being in it. Can’t say I think much of her line of work either.
“Yeah. Are you still bombing child care clinics and subway stations?” Her eyes hardened for a moment, but the smile remained and became lupine. The room’s temperature had dropped a few degrees and I started to pull away, she didn’t move back.
“Yes, but then I believe in what I do.” She stopped for a moment and shook her head. She still had not taken her arms from around my neck, and she became rigid as her armor. Then her eyes softened and she started with a softer voice.
“Wait. This is a bad way to start, just like always.”
I nodded and spoke first. “I’m sorry. Why don’t we just let it go?”
“Yeah. Can we could talk alone for a few minutes?”
I glanced at her friends and Chaz then nodded. She led me towards the rear exit and we stopped in the red light over the door.
“Mike, what are you doing still working a truck? You were burnt out a long time ago, now I see you’re still hanging around with him.”. She tossed her head towards the table. Katherine never approved of Chaz either.
“I really don’t want to talk about this” I said then started to walk away.
“Look,” she said and moved to block me. “The Trade isn’t the only one that needs a guy like you. At least we would pay you what you’ re worth and you won’t have the nightmares anymore. Still having them?"
I didn’t want to talk about this, but she wasn’t going to let it drop.
“I don’t dream.” I looked at her face when I said it and she wasn’t letting me past without something more. “I don’t have the conviction to do what you do. I don’t believe in your ‘cause’ and I’m not going to lay down my life for it. What I do now doesn’t have that kind of risk.”
“Bullshit, you know it does. You are just as much at risk as I am and Slops are gunning for all of us.”
“Your point?” I was looking off towards the wall. I was tired of talking about the past and thought that was where she was headed. Guess she knew what I was thinking and decided to get my attention.
She stepped up to me again, much closer than I liked and I felt her breath on my face. I wasn’t going to give ground. Then she touched my face gently turning it to hers.
“Michael I still love you, that never changed. You left a hole when you walked, and I...”, She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “…I’d like to try again.”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.” My stomach was knotted and my throat was hurting.
“Think about it and if you want to talk, you can leave a message with Jacque, ok?”
“Sure.”
She started to kiss me, but I brushed past her and headed back to the table. My expression told Chaz it was time to go and we headed out into the rain.
“You wanna talk about it man?” he asked.
“No. Let’s just get home.”
We hit the local connection to the subway and headed back to home. What Katherine and I had was dead and gone, but my mind kept turning it over. I had been happy, but then everything had been different once. What if there was still a spark of life left between us? Was it worth a chance? I wondered.
The handful of people on the subway at this hour sat in their own worlds, spread out across the cabin. Eyes downcast but alert, everyone terrified of everyone else and on edge. Shallow lives given depth and meaning by SLA TV. I pity them and wonder if they have ever really loved or hated anything.
Ok, that’s enough of the waxing philosophical. Fatigue and stress were doing the number on me and I needed to rest before I thought about anything serious. I couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
Things were going to change. I was going to be in control.
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