BOOK FOUR - !BONER
CHAPTER THIRTEEN -
“SHINY, RED TESLETTE!”
The next Sreef
morning. Turp and Broonzy… unshaven and
hung-over from their fourth night of drinking on Rateyes’
tab… slump on the stoop of the Andromeda, smoking handrolls. Quaia's daughter, Marina, slithers down the steps… mammaries bouncing under a thin vorshurt,
thighs bare up to the fringe of badly worn cut-offs. Broonzy turns, blinks…
“Off to school?
“Why? It's Gargarday,” the treenie shakes
her head…
“Dunno,”
says Turp.
“Can't figure out the days here nohow…”
“Why
not? You retarded?” Marina teases, planting
an index finger on his scalp and drawing a circle. “There's only four… days, I
mean… not like seven, in the planets around Sol where you snakers
come from, or thirteen, out in Imajux system. Gargarday, Armsterday, Mecchioday, Vornady… easy!” she
counts off, giving Turpin a little rap with each name. All named for discoverers… Voromontieri discovered the snakes, Mecchianus
colonized Die in twenty five twenty one,” she recited, as if playing back a
lesson from school. “Them other two were
the old guys… from, like, before the dispersal; one of them was the first man
off Terra, the other went to Mars… I think…”
With a worried frown, she
removed her finger from Turpin’s head, put it in her mouth and began worrying
the nail with her teeth…
“Is that what you do,
study astronomical history?” Broonza asks, closing a
hand around her ankle.
She kicks his elbow,
sharply enough to draw a grunt. “Right
now, they’re teaching us quantum methane engineering…”
“That’ll go good when
you’re…” and, as Broonzy makes a circle of thumb and
forefinger and inserts his other finger in, rotating it, Turpin reaches into
his pocket, takes out his com and starts tweaking digits.
“It’s Gargarday!”
he says. “Seven
fifty-nine and three… two… one… yes!
Sreef’s in!”
He looks expectantly over
at Broonze, who looks back and laughs. Turp starts laughing too, then Marina.
They’re still laughing
when Rateyes pulls up in a shiny, red Teslette Mark XXVI hovercraft… no more than two years old,
and Marina deserts the snakers on the stoop
immediately, running to him, trying to vault into the vacant front seat…
“Gimme
a ride,” she wheedles.
“Can't!” The gambler wrestles her out,
“What business? You steal hovers…”
“Naughty naughty…” Rateyes scolds, “gimme a kiss or I'll tell your
mother…”
“Tell her what, you rawthin’ strinker?
“Anything I care to make
up! Quaia trusts me,” he tells the snakers, “she knows how her daughter lies. Lies, lies, lies…”
Marina closes her eyes and
lets Rateyes buss her on the cheek, turning to one
side to avoid more contact with the ratty lips and then goes slinking and
slithering down the Baawl like a model towards the
catwalk. Old men leer out the windows of
two of the buildings opposite the Andromeda – but whether at the heatherette or the hovercraft, this is something swept up
and lost to the wind.
“Man! I could go for some
of that! Faq?” He steps around the front end of the Chevette, slaps the hover and opens the door, gesturing to
the snakers.
“Hop in!”
Broonzy
leaps up, beating Turpin to claim the front seat. “I’ve pinched a few hovers in my time…” he
boasts, “nothing like this!”
“Easy to take 'em,” says Rats. “Hard to get rid of 'em.”
“What about all the shurts?” Turpin worries.
“Or the local @(Arabic – police)
Rateyes
grins and pulls a metal object that looks like a 900 year old television
antenna dug out from beneath a rock, yanks it from
beneath the seat. He passes it to broonzy.
“You get the honors, my
friend!”
“What about me?” Turpin
protests, but the thief@ ignores him.
“Now if they come after
us, you're responsible for gattin' 'em. Just pulling
your leg! Everything's disabled or down… its Gargarday… only chance
we'd be stopped is at the forcegate. Die, in case you haven’t figured it out, is
out of money, between the slumping meth prices and what the Regency steals for
itself. I'm a very careful driver… Ease off!” Rats winks, “it’s a rental, and
from a very reputable company…”
He is, of course, a
maniac, speeding and swerving his way to the boundary of Tao City, where he
swipes a solcard, gives the tollman
a cheery wave, and speeds off, closing the dome of the hovercraft as he does.
Abruptly, he's serious.
“Wanted to get out of town
before telling you two jims this, but I do win more
than I lose. A lot more. And so help me Rassoul, I got rawth on my plate
if I’m lyin’… i'm telling
you this because I sort of like the two of you… makhbool
as you are… and because I can appreciate your situation, and I can help you. And you can help me. Been checking you out, takes a jim with heart and brains to keep
a pile of rawth like Aegelweiss
ridin’ the snakes.
Now I need a couple of jims who might know
their way around a boner and can keep their mouths shut. Would that be you?”
Turpin gives out a worried
sigh. “Never flew a boneship
before…”
Broonzy’s
concern is more practical. “There skilk
in it?”
“There is. Enough to move off this jammin’
rock and live out the rest of our lives on Kopeiiah
or Smeldrarma, even go back to Sol.
Maybe not Terra, but Mars? Can do…”
Broonze
glances backwards at Turp. “Then I'm in.”
Turpin throws up his
hands, surrendering to the moment and what’s probably just another skid-row fantasy. “Jammit… arright, you can count me in, too.”
“Ayy…
yie,” Rateyes pumps a fist,
then swerves to avoid striking some nightmarish beast that’s wandered into the
road. “Ad valorum, Die!”
go
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