Mardock Scramble

collection, you see…” But Medium had accepted the inevitable and was leading Boiled toward another wall.

“You’ve got telecommunications equipment embedded in your heads, haven’t you?” Boiled asked, and Medium turned around, startled. “And those eyes seem mechanized too. You’re constantly circulating information between yourselves, are you?”

“Well, that’s how we do business,” Medium explained, and pressed the intercom buzzer on the wall.

–Have him enter.

The reply came immediately. There was suppressed laughter. A voice that evidently knew all about the exchange that had just passed between Boiled and Medium.

A section of the wall slid across, revealing the entrance to another room.

In the middle of the room was a man reclining on a leather chair, facing away from them. The chair turned.

“You’re a proper pedigree hunting hound to have seen through our gang’s little secret, Mr. Boiled,” the man said, flashing his white teeth that contrasted beautifully with his dark skin. He was of the same race as Shell, but he had an almost inhuman air about him. He straightened up with a snap. His hair was short and he had a tattoo on his temple. He stared at Boiled with piercing eyes that belied the usually soft features particular to his race.

“To be able to identify the leader of a pack immediately—that’s an important quality in a hunting hound. Looks like the Bandersnatch Company has found itself a worthy partner.” As he spoke, he swung his left hand from the floor to the wall. He wore a single black glove on this hand. There was a golden chain on the back of his hand that jingled as he moved.

It was the sort of glove that could be used in bondage. It covered the pinky and ring finger, but the remaining fingers were exposed. These seemed to be the important fingers. He flicked them rapidly.

In response to this movement a table rose up from the floor, a sofa appeared, and a cocktail bar folded open from the wall. The hitherto empty room was now the very picture of a prosperous merchant’s drawing room.

“Do sit.”

Boiled did so. The two men now sat opposite each other. Medium headed toward the bar to assemble some glasses.

“I’m Welldone. My friends call me Well. A nickname, of course. Everyone here likes his nickname. One of the tricks for getting ahead in the underworld. By creating your own alias you make it easier to meet other like-minded people.”

Welldone brought his hands together, the one with the glove and the one without, and grinned.

“The alias that I chose for myself is Welldone the Pussyhand.”

“There’s one set of parts that I’ve not seen yet. What does your gang do with them?” Boiled asked under his breath.

Still grinning, Welldone snapped his fingers. “Two dry martinis, Medi. Plenty of kick.”

Then he showed Boiled the palm of his gloved hand. “I collect them all for myself. Male and female. But I sometimes sell them. I don’t often transplant my collection onto myself. Reason being that I’m only looking for the one, and it’s only the rare and exquisite pearl that interests me.”

There was a silver zipper on the palm of his glove, and he unzipped it slowly.

Boiled watched with his unflinching poker face.

Behind the zipper, splitting his palm from top to bottom, was a vulva, lips ever-so-slightly apart. It was pink, and no pubic hair seemed to have been transplanted along with it.

Welldone took a finger from his right hand and slid it down the slippery crease, opening it up. Like another zipper.

A clitoris emerged from the top.

He tickled the red slit some more and it started giving off a shiny liquid.

“I’ve even got a proper vagina grafted into a crack in my flesh, so to speak. The urethra is, sadly, just for decoration. The owner—now, that’s a secret, but suffice it to say that everything about her was like a rare jewel. I traveled around the world for her, to obtain her, and the technology needed to transplant her. And now I have her in my hands. Or should that be in my hand?” He grinned.

The sort of grin a ferocious beast might grin, one that concealed a razor-sharp bite.

“My pretty little pussy cat, so tight and so sensitive.”

Welldone zipped his glove up again and received a cocktail from Medium, beckoning to Boiled to do the same. Boiled too took a glass in his hand, and looked back at Welldone.

“We don’t shake hands in our line of work. Nevertheless, we can raise a glass and drink to the demise of our mutual enemies,” Welldone said, and clinked glasses with Boiled before downing his drink in one gulp and placing his glass on the table. “Let’s take this opportunity to seal a deal—we’ll make your future contracts a priority from now on.”

Boiled finished his drink in silence. He then placed one of the attache cases on the table. “Your reward.”

Medium collected it stealthily and took a step back from the table. He checked its contents and glanced at Welldone’s back. Welldone nodded without turning. Welldone went on to explain that all five of the company members, not just he and Medium, were linked by communication devices planted in their heads. “We’re each other’s eyes, ears, and weapons. That’s what gives us our strength.”

Boiled placed the other case on the table and opened it himself. “An advance payment and to cover your costs for your next target.”

Welldone leaned forward to sniff the case like a dog. “How many people?”

“One—although there are two PIs as Trustees, and the civilian police force will do their bit to interfere,” said Boiled.

“So why are you offering us so little?”

“Because you’ll find the target to your taste. Dispose of the target’s body as you like.”

Welldone lifted a disc out of the case between two fingers, suspiciously.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“A video featuring the target.” Boiled stared at Welldone, unflinching.

Medium moved to his side and received the video. “We’ll check now, all five of us.” He snapped his fingers. This time a different wall opened up, revealing a large TV screen.

Rare and Mincemeat entered the room and sat down on the sofa as Medium stuck the disc into the player. Flesh was able to watch the same video from his own room.

Nobody spoke, but the sense of excitement was palpable. They were about to acquire a new target.

Soon the video began. The picture was noticeably grainy; it was obviously a cheap flick. As a movie it was barely watchable, but when the girl appeared the gang were glued to their seats.

They watched the girl as she lay still and was used every which way, and suddenly the room was full of the most unbearable tension.

“Nice fingers she has on her.” Medium was the first to speak once the first scene was over. “Innocent and yet…supple. I’ve wanted a better pinky on my right hand for some time…”

Rare was next to speak. “Magnificent hair. Her skin looks wonderful too. I want her. I want her badly.” His voice was shrill.

“Want her eyes for my arm. Such sharp, clear pupils. Like an angel,” Mincemeat said. He was breathing heavily. “I’ll say good morning to them every day when I wake. Then I’ll kiss those eyelids.”

Cute, aren’t they? came Flesh’s voice over some hidden speakers. A wonderful pair. I’d like them on my inner thighs. I’d give them a little shot of hormones every day, so that they press up more and more against my bits…

“Hmm…” Welldone surveyed the rest of the gang, but he too was drawn back into the video when the second man clambered on top of the girl to enter her.

“See here…can we get a closeup? That’s it, right there. Now let’s see what she’s like inside. This pussycat might even be good enough to be part of my right hand. I’ve been looking for a scissor sister for my left hand for some time now, she needs her sweet loving… What’s this? I see, I see…”

This was how they all spoke to each other for some time. Admiring their new target and talking in graphic detail about what they wanted to do with her. They were all incredibly excited.

After some time, Welldone turned to Boiled. “When did you say this video was taken?”