ABC - Penance
Chapter 26

I dressed in jeans, boots, black T-shirt and jacket, with my stun wand in the right boot. The lightweight armour vest for under my shirt was considered then rejected, for the same reasons as my pistol. Tonight was purely for gathering more information, not for any pitched battles. If it came to the crunch, I had my wand and my fists and they would have to suffice.

A final touch was to fix my filter mask in place and cover my hair with a cap. No dark glasses tonight as I way too cool already to wear them at night! With my phone in my jacket and my wallet snugged into a back pocket, I headed out of the door.

Ghost was in the parking lot, finishing a check on his bike and he gave me a cursory look over. Without changing his expression or saying a single word he managed to convey his disapproval.

“What?” I demanded and planted my hands on my hips. I was reminded of doing this exact same pose in front of Papa before heading out on a date in my teenage years.

“You look good, Alvarez” he finally grunted, then settled himself on his bike. He was wearing his full black armour, partially concealed under his tattered old Chameleon cloak. I had offered to have our Department order him a new one but he insisted his ratty old cloak was still perfectly serviceable.

Dressed as he was, he looked exactly like the implacable mercenary who had rescued me those few months ago. Sometimes I felt I knew him and other times he was as remote as the moon.

“Georgia ran a check for me but she could not identify any SAND facilities to the West” I told him. “Whatever is out there is not legit, so be careful”

“I will” Ghost declared and dropped his helmet over his head. He activated the bike’s twin engines, using the quieter battery drive only, then with a final nod he rode off down the street.

I watched him head away from the main street, using the back alleys to wind his way out of town. Not for the first time, I wondered how smart I was allowing us to split our tiny force.

=====

Eat, My Pussy, Unity Townsite

The town of Unity came alive once the sun went down, that was my first discovery. Big trucks still rolled down the street, fewer in number than before, yet the number of cars and bikes had trebled. The sidewalks were crowded too, people of all ages and colours mingling with purpose around the crossroads and the streets they connected.

I made my way under the street lights to the Eat, My Pussy and saw the daytime sign was now overlaid with a bright flashing holo-sign. Hidden projectors displayed a moving 3-D image of a sexily anthropomorphic Cat Girl, eating her rainbow coloured noodles from a bowl with chopsticks. She winked in time to the flashing name of the eatery, daring the passers-by to Eat My Pussy. I noticed the comma was missing from the night time version of the name and that was probably significant.

A roar of loud conversations and Chinese Synth-Pop assaulted my ears as soon as I walked in the door. The place was crowded, every stool around the front counter occupied by men and women of all ages, plus a few of indeterminate gender. Mabel was working her magic behind the counter, tossing woks with furious intensity, while a tall guy with glowing tattoos and a shaved head served drinks and took orders.

I stood in the doorway in a panic, wondering where the hell Bobbi was, when her loud Northern drawl boomed from the far end of the eatery. She was standing in a doorway I hadn’t noticed before and waved me over to her. I threaded my way through the crowd, jostling a few elbows until I joined her. Over her shoulder I could see another long room, hidden away at the back of the eatery.

This room had a long table running down the middle with a motley assortment of plastic chairs, metal stools and wooden benches arrayed along both sides. Sitting and standing around it were an equally motley assortment of men and women, the only common factor being nearly everyone I could see was Enhanced to some degree. They were talking loudly, their voices vainly trying to overcome the music blaring from small speakers mounted on the ceilings of both rooms.

“This is the private room” Bobbi shouted, cupping her meat hand against my ear. “Everyone in here is a Merc or Freelancer, so it’s kind of our unofficial club room”

“Is it Okay for me to come in here then?” I shouted back and she just grinned her big toothy smile at me.

“Hot chicks are always welcome” she declared and took my arm, pulling me into the room.

=====

Bobbi introduced me to a succession of people, shouting out introductions while I valiantly smiled and yelled polite greetings in return. There were way too many people in this space, at least twenty in a room I reckoned would be crowded without the table and chairs.

I made an effort to remember and engage with the trio she introduced as her crew. The first of them was Wade Crowe, a guy taller than Ghost and nearly as solid with muscle. His hair was a short Mohawk dyed a vibrant blue, with the rest of his scalp covered in swirling tattoos that reminded me of Celtic knotwork.

His right arm was metal, similar in design to Bobbi’s and he had multiple input jacks on his forehead and back of the neck. I thought his eyes were natural until they caught a sheen from the ceiling lights and I could see they were artificial and quite high grade models.

Wade had a hearty laugh and a smile as big as Bobbi’s. Those artificial eyes of his never seemed to stray too far from her either, making me wonder if their relationship was more than just business partners.

The second member of the crew was Nigel Frame, a short man barely taller than little old me. He was built like a barrel, stout arms and legs making me think of a Dwarf from some fantasy game. Nigel had a beard too, but this was a narrow trimmed affair that had been sculpted with exact symmetry on his rounded face.

A long plait of dark black hair hung down his back, pulled back from a receding hairline atop his forehead. Over his right eye was a single induction port and I thought that was the extent of his Enhancements until I saw the secondary ports on the back of his left wrist. Those were typical of Drone Jockeys, using the ports to link with wrist mounted controllers for their remote vehicles.

Nigel was a talker, bending the ears of everyone around him with his tales of fighting in the Euro-Block civil wars. It was obvious he hailed from the Re-United Kingdom by his accent and manners, giving him the air of an adventurous uncle home from his travels.

He was also kind of grabby, slapping the butts of anyone who got within range, myself included. Both sexes were fair game and I was going to call him out, but everyone seemed to laugh it off and Nigel grinned like a naughty kid in response.

In the end I let it pass, since I kind of liked the dirty old prick myself. He reminded me of my own Papa, who had given his fair share of harassment to the women in his gym. Not that I condoned such behaviour, I just knew it had little deeper significance in Papa’s case. With Nigel I wasn’t too sure and vowed not to get anywhere alone with the handsy fellow.

The last member of Bobbi’s crew was an anomaly. She was a young woman, maybe very early twenties, taller than me and with unremarkable looks and brilliant red hair cut in a blunt bob. There were no obvious enhancements I could see and I could see a lot of her past her khaki shorts and black tank-top. Her figure was good, her arms and legs showing the muscle definition I’d expect from a Freelancer.

She was introduced to me as Catherine Dupre and Bobbi called her their Fire Support, which earned a shy grin from the woman and laughter from the rest of her crew. I really wanted to know more about her when I was dragged away by Bobbi to join in a game.

A game only drunk people who lived a life filled with danger and excitement could find entertaining.

Pub Darts. The scariest thing I have ever tried. Honestly.

=====

Everyone knows how to play Darts, a grand old tradition from the pubs of the RUK exported to the world and enjoyed by drunks for generations. The rules are simple – you stand about ten feet from a circular board and throw a set of three darts, trying to score a set target number.

Sounds easy, right?

Not this version. Imagine first off that this is a two way dart throwing range, with the thrower standing beside the target their opponent is aiming for. You throw your darts one at a time at the opposing dart board on the call of the referee.

Points are scored as usual, with negative points earned for hitting the opposite player. That’s right, you lose points if you hit the other dart thrower standing next to your target!

Still sounds easy, right? Just aim for the dart board and ignore the big, human shaped target standing right beside it.

Except these clowns added another little wrinkle into the game. To make it clearer, they call the game Jangler Darts. Each player wears a Jangler, remotely controlled by the referee. The first dart is thrown with the PCD set at level two. The second dart is thrown at level four and the last dart gets thrown while you are enjoying a level six pulse from the Jangler.

“No fucking way!” I said to Bobbi when she explained the rules to me. I have had enough time spent in Jangler Town to last a lifetime.

“Come on, Luisa” Bobbi cajoled me. She had her meat arm around my shoulders, caressing my cheek with the cold fingers of her metal arm. “You don’t want my friends to think you are a pussy, do you?”

“Why not?” I asked, interested to know.

“Because then they’ll eat you!” she chortled in my ear, amused by her own witticism. “Come on, play with me. I’ll give you the easy version”

Against my better judgement I agreed. If I was going to do stupid shit, I may as well do it while I was still sober.

Bobbi took three darts from a tray glued to one wall and handed me another three. Then she stood beside one of dart boards mounted on the same wall. I walked to the opposite wall, noticing there were a lot of deep holes in the plastic panelling all around the circular target. A number of them were in the space I was expected to stand, which did little to calm my nerves.

As I faced Bobbi, I could see her right shoulder was just grazing the dart board. On the other hand, it was my head that was adjacent to the target due to my more reserved stature.

“So it’s minus ten points if I hit the other player?” I asked my opponent.

“Uh-huh” Bobbi agreed cheerfully. “But it’s twenty points to the thrower if you make them dodge out of the way”

I was still absorbing that little piece of news when the referee, big Wade from Bobbi’s crew, snapped a chipped PCD around my neck. He did the same for Bobbi, who smiled and blew a kiss at him, before stepping out of the line of fire.

“Okay folks” he bellowed like a Sergeant Major on the parade ground. “Listen up! This is a standard three-toss game. We start at setting two and it will be first player to one hundred points”

There was a sudden flurry of noisy betting around the room and someone shouted to the front eatery as well. I saw Mabel come to the door and size us up before talking to Nigel and handing him a pale purple fifty Panda note.

Wade gave the punters a chance to finish their deals, then brandished two Jangler remotes. I had one last question so I called out before he triggered them.

“What about if we don’t score a hundred?”

He gave me a wicked grin, only bettered by the one Bobbi gave me.

“Then we play a penalty round at level eight” he declared loudly. “Highest score wins!”

Then he triggered the remotes and my neck convulsed as a level two shock pulsed through my body.

“Fuck!” I yelled out loud and lifted a trembling hand, trying to dampen the tremors as I aimed for the opposite board.

This was a really dumb idea I admitted to myself.

=====

I could see Bobbi trembling minutely as the Jangler fired its electrical load through her body. Bitch actually smiled and licked her lips, then lifted her metal arm and flung the dart with practised ease.

“Bullseye!” called out Wade with a roar. “Fifty points to Bobbi!” This was met with shouts of approval from the crowd. In the face of that enthusiasm I threw my first dart.

“Double Three!” Wade declared with a big grin. “That’s six for the new girl!”

My dart had thrown in a good line but dropped more than I had expected, hitting the lowest section of the ring that could still get a score. The Jangler was intense, my thoughts skittering like a startled cat. I looked at Bobbi and nodded, forcing the agony down into a place I kept all the dark things.

In exchange I let out an old friend, who didn’t give a shit about ephemeral things like pain.

Punching Judy was playing the game now and she only ever played to win.

“Bring it on, bitches!” I shouted hoarsely and readied my second dart. The crowd yelled back in approval and I heard new wagers being made. Wade looked at us both then held aloft the twin remotes.

“Level four!” he announced and upped the juice flowing into our bodies. I saw Bobbi moan in pleasure as she convulsed and I let out my own angry grunt. We both had our darts raised and Bobbi threw first.

I stepped into the throw, taking the dart in my left forearm that I raised to block the board beside me. Bobbi was stunned, mouth agape as I threw my own dart. This time the little metal object went where I wanted it to.

“Double twenty for Luisa!” Wade yelled in amazement. “Minus ten for Bobbi. That puts Luisa ahead on forty-six to forty points”

My right hand pulled the dart out from my other arm, leaving a thin trickle of blood from the hole it left. If I was in any other situation it would have hurt enough to make me cry. With Level four from the Jangler it was hardly noticeable.

“You are hard core, Luisa” Bobbi told me approvingly. I tossed the bloodied dart back at the ground between her splayed legs, feeling a faint thrill of satisfaction when it stuck cleanly into the frayed carpet.

I lifted my third dart and gave her a salute. She gave me a perfect parade ground salute of her own, then placed her last dart into her metal fingers.

“Level six!” Wade bellowed and hit our remotes simultaneously.

My arms were vibrating now, the electricity setting off uncontrollable shivers through my muscles. I looked at Bobbi, expecting her Enhancements to be hit even harder by the rogue electrons. She met my gaze and held out her metal arm, the tip of the dart vibrating wildly.

Then with deliberate poise she focussed on the arm and it fell utterly still. It was a machine after all and she was reminding it of its true nature. I supposed she had some kind of suppression routine she could use in it, maybe something that helped her aim guns with the arm.

Whatever the case, her arm flexed back smoothly and she launched her third dart. I honestly tried to intercept her throw but I was too wired and missed.

“Triple twenty!” cheered Wade. “That gives Bobbi a total of one hundred!”

The onlookers went nuts, cheering for their champion until Bobbi held up her shaking left arm.

“Wait up, assholes” she yelled, eyes locked on me. “Luisa still has to make her final throw”

Suddenly the room fell quiet. I was on forty-six, meaning the only way I could win was to hit triple twenty, the same as Bobbi had done. I lifted my arm, trying to quell the shakes and sighted on the circular target. A ragged breath left my lips and then I threw.

The dart thunked into the space next to triple twenty.

“Triple five” Wade yelled. “Bobbi wins by thirty-nine points!”

It was bedlam in the room, everybody shouting and slapping each other on the backs. Those who had bet on Bobbi mobbed her, praising her skill. A few cast sour looks in my direction, handing over their Pandas to the victors.

Wade finally killed the power to the Janglers and I unclipped it from my neck. I dropped it on the floor and then slid down the wall to join it, resting my back against the plastic panels.

A pair of tanned legs in stained white runners appeared in front of me. I lifted my head and regarded the solemn face of Mabel, wearing her restaurant outfit of skirt and blouse with a white apron over the top. The dark grey shirt did little to hide her ample bust, particularly from the direction I was observing it. On the apron was embroidered the eatery name, Eat My Pussy. Once again, no comma in the logo.

She held out a hand and I took it, letting her surprising strength pull me back to my feet.

“Thanks, Mabel” I told her gratefully.

“Told you she was a bad bitch” Mabel said warmly and guided me to a vacant chair. She reached into a pocket of her apron and took out a bright blue bandaid, the kind they use in kitchens. She opened the wrapping and deftly applied it over the small hole in my forearm, then kissed the spot next to my injury.

She had seated me next to some of Bobbi’s crew and they praised me for doing so well. A glass of something cold and frothy appeared in front of me and I downed it in one long swig.

“Thought you had her on that last throw” said Catherine, the red headed girl.

“Damn right!” Nigel enthused. “Nobody’s ever gotten that close to a win”

“Hang on” I demanded, “You mean Bobbi’s never lost at that stupid game?”

“Nope” Catherine giggled, making me revise her potential age downwards. “After all, she invented it”

I looked across the room at Bobbi, being offered drinks by her adoring fans while Wade stood resolutely at her side, glaring at them all. Bobbi saw me looking and blew a kiss, touching her lips with her metal fingertips.

“So what happens when you lose a game?” I asked her crewmates.

“You have to pay a penalty” Catherine replied and Nigel guffawed.

“Is it bad?” I wanted to know. Nigel and Catherine shared a private look then called out to Mabel, who had been chatting to Bobbi.

“Bring us a bottle of your best, Mabs!” Nigel shouted. He gave me a look that was somewhere between pity and intrigued, a strange combination.

“It’s best if you get really drunk first” he suggested sagely.

=====

It was well into the evening and I had been drinking steadily, my own rules about mixing work and pleasure utterly forgotten. I remembered to check my phone only once when Ghost messaged me. He had found a site worth investigating and was going in.

“Good luck” I had texted back and then tucked my phone away, never to be looked at again that night.

I guess it was an hour or so later and the crowd had thinned out considerably in the front room and the Freelancer’s unofficial club room. Mabel had shut down the kitchen and left her offsider manning the bar, joining Bobbi and her crew for late night drinks.

“Sorry about losing the match tonight, Mabel” I said to her with only a slight slur. She regarded me with her deep brown eyes and laughed, patting me on the back of my hand.

“I didn’t bet on you to win, stupid girl” she snickered. “Bobbi has never lost a game”

“Oh” was all I could say to that. I looked at Mabel’s hand, still resting over the top of mine. Her hands were warm and soft so I picked it up and turned it over, examining her palm with drunken intensity. My eyes widened and then I grabbed her other hand and looked at the two palms side by side.

There were circles tattooed on her palms, filling the centre of each and lining them were what I recognised as Chinese Ideograms. I ran my index finger around each one, marvelling at the complexity of the designs.

“What are these, Mabel?” I asked her. “They look really cool”

She stiffened for a moment, her hands tensing in my own, then she visibly relaxed.

“They are old prayers I had placed there” she told me. “A relic from my old life that has no significance any longer”

I was still holding Mabel’s hands when the seat on the opposite side was vacated, then filled by the large shape of Bobbi. She leaned in close, her breath hot and moist in my ear. It tickled and I flinched away, my shoulder pressing against Mabel.

“I hope you aren’t stealing Mabel away from me, Luisa” Bobbi demanded. Her metal hand had slid over onto my thigh, kneading it softly with her stiff fingers. I hadn’t realised the two of them were a couple although it felt like it was a very open relationship in that case.

“Stop teasing her, Bobbi” Mabel interjected. “Luisa is a lot more sensitive than you Northern-Block boneheads” I didn’t think this was a good time to explain that I had been born in the Northern Block too, and not that far south of where Bobbi had originated.

Whatever lover’s quarrel may have developed, it was cut short by the arrival of a grey haired man in dark jeans and shirt. As soon as he came into the room, Bobbi’s eyes locked onto him and she stood up.

“Lanky Frankie” she called out. “Bit late for you to be out of your dungeon”

It was the guy from Morituri’s, the one the Wardens had called Francis. He nodded at Bobbi and gestured her to him. That was significant I knew, since it meant he considered himself superior to the tough woman. Bobbi ruled the roost here but he outranked her in whatever pecking order governed Unity.

The pair of them left, heading outside the eatery. I would have dearly loved to eavesdrop on their conversation, if only to see Bobbi acting a little subservient.

“Who was that guy Frankie?” I asked Mabel. She had been frowning the entire time from when he had arrived and still had her dark brows knitted now.

“Local promoter” she answered. “He runs a private club at the edge of town, but he is also the go-between for the Town Liaison Officer and the Freelancers”

I knew who the Town Liaison Officer was at least. In the Camp Towns, the Head Warden was god. He or she ran everything and was the ultimate authority. However they didn’t want to waste their time messing about with civilian issues so they had an intermediary.

The TL Officer was kind of like a Town Mayor, one that was hired by the Head Warden rather than being elected. That Officer did whatever the Warden wanted and in return would pass on requests from the town residents to the Warden, assuming the residents made it worthwhile for them to do so.

“So he is here to hire Bobbi’s team for a mission?” I questioned her. “Seems an odd time to discuss a contract”

“She’ll be back” Mabel assured me. “Probably just setting a time for a meeting with the TLO”

Sure enough, five minutes of drinking later and Bobbi returned, manic and half drunk like the rest of us.

“Drink up, partners!” she declared. “We have a contract coming our way, so let’s party while we can!”

The glowing tattoos guy brought us in more drinks and we set to it with a will, knocking them back and laughing like there was no such thing as tomorrow.

I drank so much I completely forgot the warning from Nigel and Catherine. The one about how I would have to pay a penalty for losing to Bobbi.

You could hardly blame me though. I was having such a good time I forgot about everything.

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