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The start of a novella. I could use a little feedback!
I am sitting on an old chair in front of a junked up desk, staring at an eviction notice and a half -full bottle of bourbon. Yeah, I'm an optimist but everything was going wrong. I can't figure it; I have done everything the way I usually do it. Slept on the same side of my bed, shaved the same way, took the same public conveyance, and more than that, I'm a Private investigator.
Look, the universe, pretty much, runs along as it's supposed to and if that's true, the seedier nature and the actions of all sentient beings would have to be consistent. That’s why I'm needed. The universe is a perverse place and most people only want one thing, to get to the top of whatever heap they think is important. Wealth? You can get it by stealing, you get it by inheriting it, you can get it by graft, and you can get it in any way, except earning it. History has always shown that the honest working guy never wins. If you somehow end up with a pile of creds you have to turn into a nasty predator to keep it. The best anyone can do, is survive. I prefer to live how I want. I earn my own way even if I have to do without some so-called essentials. I guess that makes me dangerous. Look at me - a revolutionary.
My work slides below the sleazy surface and follows the money and the desire for power. I go out and deal with matters the legits can't. I am always needed; my work isn't boring and it does have a certain moral authority. That’s why I have always paid my bills but not always on time. So what was happening? Why am I sitting here, without work?
I was feeling like taking a long walk out a short airlock. When my Bookie, Jimmy Deano, walks in. Funny - ugly little guy, half-breed, but no one knows what species his mom took up with. You see there can’t be a half-breed. It’s not possible is what the Med folk say. That's a mystery I gave up on a long time ago and Jimmy would never say for love, torture, or money. You see, for all the species of intelligent life out here, not one can foster progeny with another. They can inter-marry, they do, and have long, happy, prosperous lives-just no kids. I guess God didn't like the angels slipping it to those earth sweeties. Hell, we all get along up here most of the time, but if they did get along all the time I'd be out of a gig. But Jimmy, now, he was the living proof that there was a species, out here, internally close to humans, maybe those ole ephelum angels. I just thought the kids, according to the Eld-Bibliam, were supposed to be pretty. Another thing that is real strange; we humans have the only ancient record, written or oral, of that sort of fruitful coupling in the known worlds.
Anyway, he was acting like he was glad to see me. That was odd because I don't owe him any money. He was pre-blast nervous and sweating wet. Deano was the coolest guy I knew. It wasn't like him and it made me nervous. He starts jabbering about needing to go on a trip, a vacation. He hands me a pile of cash, without counting, not like Jimmy, and says to me-
"Now don't get mad but I been skinning you a bit over the years. The Creds is for me rippin' ya. Plus there's twenty gees more cause I need you ta help me."
I was interested and listening even though I was counting the huge pile of Creds. I note the blast-hander bulge in his vest holster; also not Deano's style.
"I need a fake Idy- implant. I gotta get off the Rotate and get to Earth. My Mom's sick, see?"
Now, I didn't believe the sick Mom story for a second but Idys were certainly available if you knew the right person and even though Deano put a lot of treash in my hand it wouldn't be enough to get a foolproof rig-up. I rubbed my finger and thumb together, a universal gesture in all races with digets. Jimmy reaches in his vest and pulls out a packet and throws it on my desk.
"Take what you need, Ben, but be a friend, leave me enough to live on and get me the hell off this turning pile of plastalloy
I opened the packet and gasped, I haven't seen this many Creds or in these denominations for a long time. Hell, I ain't never seen this much cash. I took out a wad of the bills, a fair amount, and handed back the packet.
"I'll do it for you because you’re a friend and if you didn't leave I'd have to kill you for skimmin' me."
I figure he's in trouble so I handed him my slot key to my compartment. I can't stay mad at a friend. I knew he was hitting on me, it's how I leveraged my friends when I needed their help. It always worked out. The Universe always balanced things out. I wasn't sure whether it was my religion or me just being superstitious. If there was a BIG GUY then that's how I knew He existed. Here this morning I'm broke then boom here I sit with a wad-o-cash.
"I'll have you an implant programmed and a new profile in three hours. Go to my place and have a bite to eat and a good bottle of wine. You'll be okay. Rest a bit, old friend, and I'll have you off Crate by this evening."
He shakes my hand then hugs me, for chrizz sake, and he's out my door.
The universe will always provide but not before it does something weird.
I make a closed- pirate call, got Jimmy's deal workin' and a Converter to come by to get my illegal money into my earn-base account without any Noseys buggin' me. Now I don't mind the Navel Organization of Special Earth Services bunch at all. They keep the crafty otherworld folks from attempting any shanagins on Humans or on Earth and it's lawful colonies. Had to be a big job. The problem is that they had lost the 'human' element a long time ago and now they are just a bunch of power mad fanatics with some weird hidden agenda. Still, I had friends in the Nosey organization who were sometimes helpful and covered my back.
Then she walked in my door. I looked up from the phone and gasped, she was way too over the top classy for me. Blond, redhead, brunette, it made no difference if they dressed and looked the way she did. She was way out of my league. Hell, I had never seen such a woman. I didn't even know that women like her existed. This gal had her own gravity well and I was tumbling down. She was A-Rodeo Level; the elite lived there and never slummed down here with the rest of us. Her perfume was that artistic mood stuff that set up the environment for the coming discussion. Yeah, my nose loved her. If I was stupid, I'd let my nose have it's way and invite her out. I didn't. I was smart enough to know she wore the scent to make me feel an equal and I was heading for big trouble.
"Are you Ben Spacey? I need your help. I'm Karreen Sorren"
She was a fire- redhead, an Alterian and she was painfully beautiful. Alterians all tended to be archetypicaly attractive by human standards. I had seen some antique magazines, at the Museum, called Playboy and wondered what pubescent boys felt when they looked at the nudes in all their air-brushed-perfection. It must have been hard on the real women of the time. Standing before me was just that, perfection, without the touchups. Alterians were very pale leaning toward pink, tallish, slim, and well shaped. There appeared, in my experience, to be no flawed Alterians. There was some rumor and speculation that they had altered their genes somewhere along the long way. The flawed ones just died in the womb or were killed at birth. Humans and Alterians did not co-mingle. It wasn't a law just a custom. Alterians considered Humans a service race but did know how to be polite. Humans were, of course, envious. She sat on the edge of my desk and showed too much leg and lit an expensive Golden Sativa. You had to admire her taste.
"I will pay handsomely for your …help." She stood and walked to the only easy chair I have in my office. Watching her walk was distracting. She throws her long hair and looks over her shoulder and says-
"Please turn off any recording devices and lock the door. This tale is an embarrassment to my pod- family. It is of a nature that only you can be of any service, but even with your reputation for desecration and prodigious skills, I fear I'm doomed."
She sits down and crosses her legs showing way too much thigh.. I tell you, she got the affect she wanted.i tried real hard to control my breathing. I had to keep it together. How could I not be intrigued. I switched on my laser-damp and flooded the room to kill any snoop ears. I got up and locked the door. I reached into my shoulder holster and pulled out a pulse blast- hander and put it on the desk. She sits and crosses her legs once again, but this time it was natural. The short dress did her justice.
"Thank you. You do recognize the importance and you put me at ease. Ben, I'm surprised at how attractive you are. It is unsettling that I should constantly have such feelings, but my tendencies are exactly why I am here. You know that I am so much above you, that my being here must tell you that this is only an illusion. I must have done something dreadful to make us, somehow, equal. Do you see?"
I nodded at the obvious and the species slur. This one was from a high class Alterian Family. She was making it look like she was coming on to me and whatever was up was gonna be good and real dangerous.
"We Anterians marry in groups, which I'm sure you know. My Senior Husband is Lord Sir Hillary Sorren. Do you know of him?" She says, as she lifts her head and purses her too red lips to blow smoke rings over her head.
"Yes, he's involved with the sensitive negotiations." I say, trying to sound like I am worthy of the conversation. "My sources tell me it is over pirate rights between the Sellaans and Claagarees. Big deal, they have been at war for four-hundred years" I was proud of myself for my control. "I don't see that happening no matter how good your husband is."
"Yes all that is true but it still is a politically sensitive situation. Ben! May I call you Ben?" I nodded, watching her face. "I have done an impossibly embarrassing moral perversion. I have been having an affair, outside my family, with a business partner of my husband. His name is Celar Vann and he is dead."
"Did you do it?" This was getting good.
"Blessed Lord Preyon, no. I would invite the Flames of Hadre. I'm certainly a sexual deviant but not a killer. He too, Celar too was shaming his own family. We could not help it. But I had no idea how sick he really was. He was found dead in a Plythian Brothel."
"Oh, that's disgusting." My professionalism left me for a brief moment. A shudder of revulsion ran up my spine.
"Imagined how I felt. I bathed five times a day for a week." She pouted and made me shudder, this time, in delight. "The police have questioned me politely and, forgive me, I told them you were my Representative Cousin."
I didn't believe what I heard. To have a Human allowed in an Alterian Family was unprecedented given the prejudices between our two Species.
"I'm in your family now? Chrizz! Does your husband approve?"
"Yes! He is protective and forgiving of me. He made it official. You are assigned to his Family Line that way there won't be a conflict of interest. He believes it will be important to our two races and that you are worthy."
My status and social standing just went through the roof. I have just been made famous. That would explain why no one has called on me. She stood and looked me right in the eye, pushing home the reality of the situation. She was treating me as an equal. Damn these Alterians, now I'm in this Royal Diplomat's Family. This was going to hamper my abilities. Or not, after all I'm dealing with deviants and an Ambassador. No, didn't matter. This was a set up and I was buurg lunch for sure.
"I have to go." She said prettily. "Things will accelerate now. You can contact me…"
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Why is doing what you love the hardest thing to do? Is it because failing what you thought defined you would be too devastating a thing from which to recover? If so, we stay where mere accident has left us.
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Cassandra 10
