Jennings snorted. “So this is the CEO? How’d you manage to get him here?”
“Dez’s a reliable fellow,” said Regers. “Commiserated with my loss and decided to accompany us on our little expedition out to The Dim Zone, out of the goodness of his heart. To see that compensations are personally attended to. Didn’t you, Dez?”
Dez scowled. “The moment we rendezvous with Mathias on Remus, this is all over. I go back to Phallanor.”
“Sure, anything you say, Dez.” Regers made a thumbs-up sign. “Seems you’ve got everything figured out.”
“People are going to be wondering where I got to,” Dez huffed. “Asking a lot of questions when I don’t return. I am acting director of the firm in Mathias’s absence. How far do you think you’ll get before they come hunting you down?”
“Well, from where I stand, the universe’s a big place.”
Dez paled.
“You’re insurance, Dezzie, that’s all. We get the goods, you go home. We don’t—well, it’s not looking good for you.”
Jennings interrupted with a scowl, “How’s badgering this guy going to help out our cause?”
Regers squeezed his eyes shut. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jiminy, when the fuck are you going to learn to zip it? Deakes—teach him a lesson.”
“My pleasure.” An evil grin swept across the bald man’s face. He rapped Jennings hard in the kidney, causing Jennings to double over, gasping.
Regers smiled with satisfaction. “Now, you’re here as science and engineering counsel, that’s all. Not to play security monitor or question my plans. Get it?”
Another sharp rap to the kidneys had Jennings giving a cat-like yowl. The man managed a terse nod, his face burning, as fury rose.
Regers shook his head. When were these fucks going to learn? Should’ve left Jiminy down on the Orb with the other glassy-eyed floaters.
Chapter 5
Creib turned a wary glance over his shoulder from the nav. “Set course for Remus?”
Regers shook his head impatiently. “No, a little recreation time out first. Take us to Mekeroid in Cepheus.”
“Mekeroid? Why the hell Mekeroid?”
“This calls for a celebration, Creib. Dez, I reckon you’ll come with us.”
Dez croaked out a protest. “Why? You’ve got what you came for—a fix on Mathias.”
“Got my reasons. Glut our pleasures. Plus it’ll put off any snoopers and sleuthers. What kidnapper would ever think of taking his charge and holing up on that scum world?”
Vincent drawled, “I’ve heard they’ve got the best pieces of bronze tail this side of Arcturus.”
Deakes grinned. “You know how to win over your crew, boss.”
“You betcha. But first, I want 10k yols in damages up front. Dez, you’re going to pay out and withdraw it on Mekeroid.”
Dez let out a plangent wail.
“No squawking. You can use your fancy ID card. Throws off any busybodies on the trail. They track your transactions, see you’ve been paying for pussy at Mekeroid on company funds, they’ll know you’ve gone rogue and are skylarking. We kill two birds with one stone. We get Ramra some Mekeroid ass, you get us some money to help finance our expedition.” Regers chuckled and rubbed his wrists.
Vincent burst out in a boisterous laugh.
Ramra nodded with the green glint of enthusiasm that only a Jakru could have.
* * *
Mekeroid city was a world on the frontier breeding debauchery. Full of black market rings, neon lights, strip joints, every intoxicant and cheap pleasure a man or woman could ask for. Most of the action was down on Asteroid Boulevard, with smoky dives, three storied black-shadowed toke-up joints, needle shops, blades, wires, whatever was one’s fancy. Some of these came with inviting entrances formed of barely a row of stringed beads. Half-men and offworld hybrids wearing masks and goggles, painted ladies with cat-whiskers and rabbit ears walked the street, cruising for something that couldn’t be found, except maybe danger and trouble. Nothing but masquerade night in full parade.
Regers and his crew howled in approval as they sauntered through the streets all keyed up for some carnal festivities. They queued up at a virtual instateller off the main drag at the corner of Catchy and Nozzle, happy to be out of their confined quarters on Xaromar. The sharp sulfur tinge of mezolene tainted the air with a rare muggy mist. Mangy dogs with fur half ripped off scabby backs roamed about the dingy, puddled alleys begging for scraps, snarling when competing for the meager fare. Beggars in the alleys chorused along with them, lolling backs against grimy brick walls, chewing on old dog bones the strays left behind. Regers prodded Dez up to the holo-dispersal unit. The CEO tapped some digits on a pad, entered a passcode, then passed the retina test before he withdrew 10k. Regers prodded him for 5k more, then nodded in happy unison, pocketing the cash and distributing 300 yols to each of his crew as spending money.
“Don’t blow it too fast, boys—or you’ll have to appeal to Dez for more.”
They hoofed it over to a specialty shop between a corner convenience and a fancy-dancy wine shop—or deli. They purchased costumes—big black boots, masks, wrists bands, metal neck collars, the whole shebang, to blend in with the locals. Holo-billboards swung high into the night sky, advertising everything from cotton candy to wide screen holo displays to deluxe dildos. Lewd pictures of female and male parts lay interlaced with ads for mega corporations. Laughter, chatter of droning voices, wails and cries of the intoxicated, jacked on Bandex, Quintox, Verizan, anything they could get their hands on. The whistling rush of magno trams caught Regers’ ear as they slewed by, disgorging people of all ages, races and sizes. Sounds, smells, sensations of myriad numbers. Sensory overload compared to the murky confines of Xaromar and its cramped hold.
Regers and crew went bar-hopping down Asteroid strip, bubbling with laughter, bragging to each other about their
