By Anna Hill
“Welcome to Odac’s Moon.” The pleasant voice filled the docking station. “Please place all weaponry in the receptacle provided.”
As Illian disembarked her ship, a large metal drawer slid from the wall. She knew the drill. Working top to bottom, she removed her back scabbard, hip holster, right thigh strap, left ankle clip, and, finally, the pressurized dagger from her right boot.
“Why do the worst ones always run here?” she grumbled, lowering the collection of blades and meson pistols into the drawer, then setting the lock with her thumbprint.
“Thank you,” the voice intoned as the drawer closed. “In order to ensure your compliance with our non-violence regulations, please place the provided wristband on your left arm.”
Illian lifted the sleeve of her leather jacket and clasped the metal band around her forearm. As the lock fastened, three small needles slid into her skin. She’d worn an OM band many times, but the threatening, iridescent green liquid waiting beneath its surface still unsettled her.
“Enjoy your time on Odac’s Moon,” crooned the voice as the pressurized door opened.
The madness of OM’s capital quickly swept her up. Violence wasn’t permitted here, but all other transgressions were. It’s what attracted so many fugitives. They couldn’t get their brains blasted out, but they could drink or screw them out.
Weaving through drunks lining the narrow, grimy streets, Illian headed to the Ortus Hotel. Every so often, she stepped over the corpse of someone who’d broken OM’s non-violence regulations. Green neurotoxin glistened from within their dyed, bulging veins. It wasn’t an easy way to go—certainly not one she wished to experience. Still, the money for this mark was too good to pass up. She wasn’t sure what the poor soul had done, but by the size of the bounty, he’d clearly pissed off Big Don.
“Got ma money?” The grotesque manager snarled at Illian as she entered the destitute building. There were many luxurious hotels on OM. Ortus was not one of them. “I’m riskin’ business, givin’ up clientele.”
Moldy food fell from tentacles surrounding his mouth as Illian dropped a pouch of Kuzem gems on his desk.
He snatched the payment. “Tell yer boss it’ll cost more next time.”
“What room?” If Illian could, she would’ve already burned a meson bullet hole through his skull.
“Sixteenth floor, room eleven,” he grumbled, handing her a keycard.
Illian stepped into the elevator, and the warped doors groaned shut. As it shuddered upward, her gaze dropped to the menacing green liquid sloshing within her wristband. The trick was to get her mark’s band to trigger without activating her own. It was a dangerous game. If her stress levels grew too high, the neurotoxin would be injected faster than she could blink. OM’s council didn’t mess around.
The elevator bell rang, and the doors scraped open, revealing a decrepit hallway lit by buzzing fluorescents. Illian’s fingers itched for her favorite pistol as she strode to room eleven and waved the key.
“Figured Big Don’d send someone,” groaned the figure standing before the room’s barred window.
Entering, Illian studied her mark: human male, mid-thirties, athletic build.
“I’ll pay double what ‘e’s offerin’.”
Her eyes scanned the dilapidated room. “I doubt that.”
Panic tightened his features. “Big Don lied. I—”
As the bathroom door swung wide, Illian’s right hand instinctually shot to her hip.
Flustered, the man leapt to block an incredibly pregnant woman from waddling out. “I told ya ta stay hid!”
“Miram?” Illian recognized Big Don’s sister, though the massive baby bump was a new feature. This was a complication she hadn’t calculated for.
“Please,” Miram begged. “Don’t kill him.”
Illian stepped closer. “If I don’t, Big Don will send someone else.”
“You’d murder my child’s father?” Tears welled in Miram’s eyes.
“He’s cruel enough to make you wear that wristband.” Illian irritably pointed at Miram’s forearm as she stalked closer. “Trust me, I’m doing your child a favor.”
The man’s nervous gaze darted between Miram and the door as he rocked onto the balls of his feet. Illian shook her head, but his desperation won.
“Can’t harm Big Don’s sister.” A sly grin split his face as he slid behind Miram. She gasped at the betrayal.
“Don’t be stu—”
The man flung Miram and bolted.
Illian lunged and caught her arm before she hit the floor. Miram’s brow creased with fury as Illian lifted her to her feet. “Get him,” the pregnant woman ordered through clenched teeth.
Illian dashed from the room. This wasn’t the first idiot to run. He was on the sixteenth floor of a building with no stairs. She just needed to beat him to the decrepit elevator.
Rounding the corner, she found him frantically swatting the elevator button. His terrified gaze met hers and he leapt to the end of the hallway.
Illian seized the man’s sweat-stained shirt. “Using a pregnant woman as a shield is pretty low.”
“You can’t hurt me on OM.” He matched her incensed glare.
“I don’t have to.” Illian pressed her thumb into his suprasternal notch. The pressure point required little force to trigger survival instincts. She just needed his adrenaline, cortisol, and norepinephrine to spike enough to activate the wristband.
He yanked roughly at her unyielding grasp, desperately searching for any means of escape.
Pressing down harder, Illian felt the needles from her wristband lengthen. Her mark’s flailing was causing her stress levels to rise. This needed to end.
As if the universe were listening, the bell chimed and the elevator doors opened beside them. Fight or flight activated, he slammed a fist against Illian’s cheek.
Blood trickled from her mouth as she watched realization dawn on him. A soft click emitted from his band, and the ominous green liquid drained away. Dropping his twitching form, she stood back, heaving a sigh of relief.
“Serves him right.” Miram waddled up behind them. Rubbing her belly lovingly, she entered the elevator. “Let’s get off OM and out of these horrible wristbands.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Great intensity! Proof there’s always more than one way to skin a cat or take down your mark.
Great story! The title works beautifully with it. Loved the world building.
Interesting concept and nicely written. This was a lot of fun to read.
I really like the idea of the no-violence planet, complete with enforcement: it sounds like EXACTLY like something that someone would come up with in a future world! (Also, the title was a hoot!)
Oh wow, I loved this story! The wristbands made for an amazing looming threat! I’d love to see more of Illian and Miram’s adventures together :D
Thank you so much everyone for all your wonderful comments! I’m so glad you all enjoyed the story and the title (I had a pretty good giggle coming up with that one). It was so much fun creating this world and these characters that I think I might just have to come up with more marks and adventures for Illian :)!
Your world building is so good! Girl power moment right there, but feeling legit bummed Miram got played. LOL
This is such a fun read! Thank you 😊 It reminds of me of something in the the Firefly universe 👍
Oh man! That escalated quickly! lol I loved the non-violence enforced with violence concept.