“That’s what friends do, right?” Cutter’s eyes blackened as the manipulative spirit inside him moved across his already darkened face. “They help each other out.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Cutter waved a dismissive hand as he poured another round. “Awww, you know how these crooked businessmen are. He comes in here tonight, crying about how labor costs and fuel prices have cut into his profits.”
“In other words, he wants you to take a smaller cut? I’m not surprised. And you said?”
“Yeah well, I told him to do what his professors told him back in his Ini Dicka Du days.”
“Which was?”
“He just needed to pass those costs along to the customer like the good little capitalist he is.”
“What a compassionate man you are, Odell.” Tiger held up his glass and Cutter tapped it with his. “Salt of the earth.”
“Yeah, a regular Mother Teresa, I am,” he responded, then killed the shot. He gave Tiger a sour look as the glass hit the top of the table with a loud pop. “Hell, whaddaya you care anyways? Just some rich Republican fuck who wouldn't piss on you or me if we were on fire.” The scowl on his face, as the word rolled off his tongue, was the same one he might’ve had if he’d discovered a maggot in his food.
“Just curious was all.” Okay, time to change the subject! Tiger knew the man well enough to know when to drop something. With Tiger, there was no love lost for these suits, for sure. Yet, they were a necessary evil. They paid the salaries that paid the bills. But for Cutter, a kid who literally grew up inside a cargo pod, the rich and privileged were synonymous with unadulterated evil. Tiger found it ironic he did business with them, but even at that, the man made no effort to hide his disdain for them, even to their faces. He hated the bastards, these people who grew up pampered and coddled. It was almost as if he dealt with them hoping they’d screw up, giving him a chance to exact some sort of belated revenge upon them for a childhood of poverty.
Tiger just hoped this guy realized the kind of man he was dealing with. It would be a terrible mistake for him to underestimate the man they now called the “Spaceport Czar.” For with him, it wasn’t always business. God help the man if it ever got personal. He might fuck him up, or he might go through his family to prove a point. He wasn’t the old La Cosa Nostra. He wasn’t bound to any codes of honor. He answered only to himself. He did whatever he felt sent the best message. And with men such as this, with their soft little pudding bellies, Tiger had no doubt he would delight in sending it with brutal clarity.
Cutter was through with it, as well. “Well, I wanna talk about something else! Fuck that prick!” he grumbled, as he poured another shot and downed it quickly. He let the fire burn through him for a few seconds, and the afterburn seemed to cheer him somewhat. “Hell, son! I wanna reminisce with old friends and shit. Don't ever see your sorry ass aroun’ here anymore! Wanna know how you been?” He poured another round for both, then held up his glass. “To old spacers …”
Tiger smiled and met his toast. “And the rockets we lit ...”
“And the women we left behind …” Cutter concluded.
“Yeah,” Tiger tried to hide the fact Cutter could’ve left that one off.
Maybe it was because he noticed the discomfort in Tiger at the mention of the subject, maybe he just was trying to catch up; Tiger could never really be sure with Cutter. Regardless of the reason, he looked to Tiger inquiringly.
“Speaking of split-tails, you seen Lulah lately?” he asked.
“Saw her when I flew in last year,” he shrugged. “We had dinner together.”
“How was she?” Cutter watched Tiger’s face intently.
“As well as could be expected, I reckon … for somebody wrapping up a divorce.” Tiger found the man’s curiosity a bit curious in itself. After she’d broken it off with his old friend, Cutter had never broached the subject of Lulah. He’d never been one to live in the past and had constantly chided his pal for brooding over his loss.
“Hell, can you believe her marrying that tie-hanger in the first place?” Cutter used the derogatory name that spacers reserved for NASA administrative personnel and other white-collar workers. “And even had two kids by him. What a waste of good genes! You sure hope they take after her!”
“Never gave it much thought,” Tiger shrugged his shoulders, as he lied unconvincingly.
“Tanner Thomas, I love you like a brother. We flew rockets together, you and me … but you need to remember who you’re talking to!” Cutter laughed aloud. He was no fool. He was right too. He knew Tiger as well as anyone. “You’ve spent the last ten years pining away for her like some lovesick schoolboy. You sensitive fucks make me wanna puke sometimes.” He rolled his eyes in mockery. “Jesus, God in heaven! Even the Cap’n was all blue and shit when Lu left your sorry ass!”
“What?” Tiger found himself astounded. “First I ever heard of that.”
“Ohhh yeah,” Cutter rolled his eyes. “Aw, hell! Don’t act like you’re all surprised and shit! You know you were always his boy. He was even talking about getting online and getting one of those ordinations so he could marry you two if y’all ever got hitched.”
“How come I never heard all that before now?”
“‘Cause it was supposed to be a surprise, shit-for-brains!” Cutter laughed. “How was he supposed to know you’d be too stupid to hang on to a primo piece of ass like Lulah?”
