By Teddi Deppner
“With muscles like that, you must be from a heavy grav zone.”
The lilt of female admiration cut through the music and clamor of the club. Pete kept the flirtatious smile on his face and turned in the direction of the voice, the spotlights blinding him to the details of the crowd. Bending backward into a handstand, his bare arms flexing to control his balance, he landed in splits at the edge of the stage. The skintight jumper hugged his body, light-sensitive nanofibers enhancing each curve with dynamic shadows.
Sliding from the platform, he approached the woman whose direct gaze identified her as the speaker. She was at least twenty years his senior, with hair coiffed in intricate spirals.
“I grew up on Jarma,” he lied, reaching out to her. “How did you guess?”
She took his hand, her fingers sparkling with novagems and her entire forearm wrapped in a Linkstream band. She was new to the club, which was always a risk, but if the bling was to be trusted she’d be worth his attention. She followed his gentle pull, slowly spinning into a close embrace as he twirled her through the press of bodies, murmuring fabrications into her ear.
Six hours later, Pete slipped out of the Hilton-Marrimeyer resort terminal, cinching his coat tight. The station atmo outside the resort was chilly, and he was tired. Glancing at the intersection’s chrono display, he sighed. One more client and he could quit for the night. Enevienne had hinted she might come by the club this week. A score like her, and he could take a whole day off to work on his ship.
You can do this. It’s worth it.
But the dark smear on his soul distorted his view of the future, tinting it bitter and grim. Or was that low blood sugar? He dropped his coat in the dancers’ lounge behind the club and chugged a bottle of liquid electrolytes, stims, and protein. Hydration was the key to stamina, his gym coach used to say. More right than she knew.
He glanced in the mirrored wall. A quick fix to the wave of his thick black hair, and a tug to adjust his jumpsuit. Game face on.
The roar of the club hit him like the waves on Telaxxia IV, both pushing at him and tugging him deeper. He scanned faces, casually moving to the bass rhythm in a sinuous sway led by his hips.
A cluster of young women about his age caught his eye. The girl in the middle whipped her long purple ponytail as she danced with a smile like a supernova. The delight on her face and whoops of encouragement from her friends turned Pete’s game face into a grin.
Maybe the world isn’t so bleak. At least she’s having fun. He altered his trajectory. Work could wait a few minutes.
Ducking between her friends, he pantomimed surprise at coming face to face with the ponytailed girl and fell to his knees, raising his palms in supplication.
Laughing, she grabbed his hands and drew him to his feet with a surprisingly strong grip. He matched his dance style to hers, and when he scooped her for a lift and dip, she responded with a trust that made it easy for both of them.
Then she surprised him again with a wave at her friends. Not one to hog all the fun, eh? He danced with each in turn, enhancing their light-hearted cheer with a bonus dollop of sensual charm, Peter Johnson style.
As he spun the third woman, a hand encircled his bicep, pulling him up short. Smiling, he turned, wondering if he’d missed one of them.
Not one of them.
Enevienne.
Pete’s stomach did an odd twist and his face shifted, seeking its practiced expression for star clients.
But before he could say a word, the temperamental heiress slapped him. Hard.
“Did you forget my instructions, amorello? I told you I’d be coming, yes?”
Pete stared at her florescent green boots, heart thumping, his ego as bruised as his cheek. Must be craving a taste of drama with her entertainment tonight.
“I didn’t know—” he began, then caught a flash of lavender out of the corner of his eye.
He looked up just in time to see Purple Ponytail give Enevienne a hearty slap of her own.
“Leave him alone!”
Enevienne’s gasp turned to a snarl. “This does not concern you, twerlup. I own him.”
“You can’t own a person!”
Pete looked around, alarmed. Everyone within twenty feet was turning their way. Blast it. As a freelancer he couldn’t afford an altercation, especially involving someone with Enevienne’s connections.
Better to save your skin than your pride.
He ran.
Thirty ticks later Pete was counting ducklings in the station hydroponics park when Purple Ponytail plopped next to him on the bench. “Come here often?”
“Go away. You just cost me months of income.”
“Looked like a hostile work environment to me.”
“I can handle it.”
“But why?” She nudged him with a shoulder.
Pete looked sideways at her. Despite what happened at the club, her eyes were still twinkling. Both the clever dodge and the cynical reply died on his tongue and what came out was honesty. “Because I’ll do whatever it takes to fix my ship and get off this station.”
She sat back, whistling. “You have a ship?”
“Yep.”
“What’s broken?”
He shrugged. “I’d need an engineer just to figure that out.”
“Huh.” She bumped his shoulder again, and this time she was smiling.
“What?”
“I’m an engineer.”
The light in her eyes was not only contagious, it was irresistible. No risk, no reward.
He stuck out his hand. “I’m Peter.”
She shook his hand, her firm grip no longer a surprise. “Alicia.”
“You’re really an engineer?”
“You really have a ship?”
“C’mon,” he said, standing and pulling her up with him. “You’re gonna love her.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
What a unique idea for a sci-fi story. Really enjoyed the idea to take a profession not always depicted in speculative fiction and build a very human story around it.
Thanks, Jim!
ok, you’ve hooked me. gotta find out how much longer Peter’s lies continue…
Right? He seems to make quite a habit of it, doesn’t he?
A bright (purple) spot in the dark void of space… Alicia sounds like a blast!
(I call shotgun on the space road trip that I feel will follow!!)
An EPIC space road trip, for sure!
Delightful story! I’m intrigued by the girl with the purple ponytail. I suspect she’s too good for him.
Alicia suspects the same thing, Arlan. But… a ship! A chance to travel the stars is quite the attraction for a young engineer such as herself.
I would have taken this story in such a different way! I loved the optimistic ending of future friends and new adventures.
Seems there’s more to the story. Does Peter really have a ship? Is Alicia really an engineer?
I really like this story. You captured Pete’s inner conflict and longing well in such a short space. Nicely done! I also love the hopeful ending. :)
Great story-telling and world building. Always a pleasure reading your contributions!
I enjoyed this fun story. It makes us see what people will do in order to get what they want even if not in the best way. I would like to see where these two really end up.