Naero carefully headed back toward The Shinai.
The strange events of the day had her so paranoid that she wasn’t at all surprised when three local thugs stepped out in front of her to try their luck.
“Hey, spack, gimme some.” They attempted to block her way.
Naero made a point of rolling her eyes. She didn’t have time for amateurs.
“Give you some what? Looks like you three morons already have diseases.”
They stopped laughing.
She could buzz away with her gravwing, but this could be fun.
The leader stepped forward, rusty knife in one hand, an old stunner in the other. “You’re mine, little slit. I’m gonna split you wide open while you’re still wiggling.”
“Take her down,” the ugly lander girl said, circling. She held a plasbaton like a club. “I wanna see some spack blood.”
The third–the biggest, smelliest, and stupidest looking one–had a face covered with boils, a weighted length of chain, and some spikeknucks.
“Oh, we’ll see some blood.” He laughed in anticipation. “Loosen’ this gash up for me, Dren. I think I’m in love.”
Naero almost laughed. “You lander guys can’t think up any better lines?” She wasn’t about to give losers like them any satisfaction.
They rushed her from three angles. Naero kick-flipped off the near wall, darting away so fast that all she needed was to shove ugly-girl out of her way.
She ran them the length of the alley, just fast enough to keep them chasing. When she had them winded and they looked about ready to give up, she stopped. They charged her with a final burst of energy.
Naero half-grinned.
Them red-faced and puffing; her not even breathing hard.
She whipkicked the leader’s forearm so fast he nailed himself with his own stunner. He gaped in surprise and fell upon his own knife in his other hand, still twitching.
Naero spun and slammed him into big oaf. The two goons went down in a tangle.
Somehow the stunner went off again.
Naero ducked the whir of ugly girl’s plasbaton and blocked a knee. Two palm heels to the face and a jab to the throat staggered the lander.
Naero flipped her hard over one hip and left her moaning on the plascrete.
Something whipped around her ankle. Big oaf’s weighted chain. She could smell his approach, a thick wafting wave of filth and unwashed male stench. He came at her like a crab. He lifted his spikeknucks to tag her.
Naero half-stepped forward and side-kicked with her free leg, broke his nose again, splattered boils, and shattered one eye socket. A spin-heel kick to the temple put him down for good. She shook the chain off her ankle, resisting the hidden urge to finish them.
“Amateurs,” she muttered. “Ugly and dumb.” These landers weren’t worth killing–not that she’d ever taken a life.
Rank scents of fresh human blood and other bodily fluids filled the air. Naero hadn’t even broken a sweat. She brushed herself off, wiped her feet clean with some rags, and punched up the portcops to pick up the trash.
It did feel rather good to work out part of her anger and frustration on some random goons.
Then a skycar descended at the opening of the corridor alley in front of her. Things just kept getting weirder.
At first she thought it might be a portcop patrol car. Instead she saw a big holo-spolymered limo with eight doors.
That worried her a bit.
The limo whispered a few centimeters off the ground. A door snapped open and a well-dressed foreign businessman leaned out, polished shoes, gloved hands upon a jeweled cane. His face marked him in his forties, but he was probably older. His long, oiled, dark hair and short beard were immaculate, a scarlet holosilk turban covering most of his head. He could be a merchant prince, or perhaps even a Corps diplomat.
“Excuse me, miss,” he said, his elocution precise and powerful. “My driver spotted trouble. Are you in any need of assistance, my dear?”
She waved. “No thanks. Just a misunderstanding.”
“I see.” He smiled, his admiration apparent. “Have you notified the authorities?”
“On their way. Thanks for your concern.”
He bowed his head to her. “Not at all. Can we lift you anywhere? We’re headed to the docking bays.”
Did she look that dumb?
“That’s all right.” Cheap thugs were easy to hire. This guy could have set the whole thing up. “Thanks once again.”
“Safe journey then,” he said.
That threw her a little. Usually, Spacers were the only ones who said that to each other.
This guy was obviously a lander, but he’d picked up a bit of their lingo somewhere. Before she could respond, the older gentleman pulled himself in and tapped with his cane. The door snapped shut. The skylimo rose straight up.
Another spasm of pain ripped through her head. Naero clutched her skull with both hands and leaned her weight against a chain link fence to stay up. For some reason, she recalled her dream where the handsome green guy with the flowing golden hair rammed a sword into her brain.
Then she considered how she needed to find a boyfriend at some point in the near future.
More pain from that damn psy helmet. Zhen said she might suffer such attacks for weeks, perhaps even months. She might also experience hallucinations and bouts of delusions bordering on temporary insanity.
Great. Something different to look forward to, at least.
Good thing it hadn’t hit her during her little tussle with the locals. That might have been bad. She hit her gravwing and zipped back to the starport.
She was already completely frazzled from the loss of her parents. A little induced madness might be a welcome distraction from that pain.
Searching for Jan back on The Shinai, Naero walked in upon Janner and the usual–a gaggle of half-dressed lander girls.
She gritted her teeth, smiled, and shook her head.
Janner was certainly grieving…in his own way.
She wondered how many of these bimbos believed everything Jan spoon-fed them about his exploits.
What a bunch of crap.
Yet she could see why these spoiled little landers went for Jan, with his long dark hair and their father’s lanky good looks. Who better to torp their wealthy Corps parents off than a flashy Spacer punk in flight togs and blades?
Naero giggled. If they only knew how tame and mundane Janner really was. His favorite areas of study–advanced math, stellar physics, and navigation. She shook her head.
Yeah, what a rebel.
One of the girls, the alpha female of the pack apparently, kept herself glued to Janner’s side like a Centauran weasel in heat. She was a long, slender doll-like thing with green hair, white skin, and blue eyes. She wore a black, light-absorbing dress that was way too short, black heels, and white lacy tights whose patterns shifted and flickered as she moved.
Haisha, Jan, get a room for a few hours. How embarrassing.
Lander girls.
Although an intensely sensual people, Spacers showed little affection in public, and discreetly reserved sex for their private lives–behind closed doors.
The respected norm.
But at Jan’s age, self-control and professional behavior weren’t Jan’s strengths. She knew he indulged himself, way too much.
Naero had been tempted herself with a few cute Spacer boys here and there. But so far she hadn’t found a worthy candidate. She told herself that choosing a lover, especially one’s first and maybe last, was serious Spacer business on the most personal level.
Her mother and most Spacer women–except Saemar–had very strong opinions on the matter.
She felt heart ache again. Never more would she be able discuss such things–or anything–sitting in private with her mother on their beds, brushing their long hair together before they slept.
The searing memory of how beautiful her mother had been at such times ripped through her soul.
As usual, romance for Nae
ro would have to wait. She kept herself too busy on purpose, and never got too close to any Spacer. Most landers she hardly even looked at.
Jan finally noticed her standing there. Always the opposite of her. He wasn’t that picky. “Hi, Naero,” he said with a dreamy smile.
The lander pack appraised her sultry looks and athletic form as a potential threat.
He let them burn for a while. “How’s biz, sib?” They relaxed and smiled again, figuring out she was his sister.
“You haven’t been bringing unauthorized personnel on board again, have you Jan?”
“Don’t get twist on me. I told them the rules. He put his arm around the pack-leader. “Meet Devi. Her mother’s some Corps princess here on business. She’s invited me and our whole fleet to a big Corps party on her parents’ yacht tonight. Wanna come with?”
“Maybe. Have you seen Aunt Sleak?”
He frowned and waved one hand. “Cutting deals, like always. I think she’s on The Slipper.”
“You think?”
“Hey, I’m not on duty. Excuse me. My entourage grows restless.”
“But of course, my prince.” Naero bowed to him on her way out. Then she transferred to The Slipper, shaking her throbbing head again.
Perhaps another mist shower would relax her. Naero ducked back into her cabin for a quick one.
She closed her eyes, letting the mist wave over her, just breathing in and out. She looked up and lifted her hair to check that big zit on her forehead in the shower mirror.
It ached, swollen, inflamed, and painful. When she squeezed it slightly, dark red blood squirted and it split open.
Spasms of pain ripped through her head. Naero gasped.
A third, bloody violet eyeball stared back at her in the mirror. She could even kind of see through it in a blurry way, but it moved on its own power, roving and glancing here and there beyond her control. It’s independent actions alarmed and disoriented her further.
A new fricking eye.
Sticking out from her forehead.
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