But he also knew it meant getting back in the rat race. It meant deadlines and tight schedules. It meant going back to work for the Authority, an entity he’d grown to loathe. To think of it made him almost nauseous.
“Cutter, you know we go way back … and I ain’t never balked about making a few runs for you from time to time …”
“I understand, man.” The gangster held up a hand to cut him off. “You ain’t gotta explain nothing to me. We’re bros.”
Tiger still felt the need to qualify his reason, despite what Cutter had said. “I’ve done got to where I like the laid-back life. I’m too old for that run and gun bullshit!” He reached for the bottle. “Besides, it would mean coming back here a lot more than I want to.”
“Ahh.” It was all suddenly clear to Cutter. The real truth comes out. “I should’ve known. You seeing her this time around?”
“Gonna take her out tomorrow night.”
Cutter laughed. “You two either need to get back together for good or forget each other period.”
“We’re not getting back together,” Tiger replied gruffly as he downed a healthy slug and quickly poured another. Thinking too much about Lulah always ended like this. “She moved on from me a long time ago.”
“Did she now?” Cutter was amused, but Tiger paid no attention, killing the second shot, letting it … needing it, to calm him. The gangster was smiling strangely. Like he knew a secret, one Tiger might find interesting. But he wasn’t telling it tonight. No sir! “I dunno about either one of you sometimes.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tiger found the remark odd.
“Nothing. Forget it.”
Did he know something about Lulah? Was he now trying to protect him or tease him? Had she talked to Cutter, of all people, about their relationship? Surely not! He’d gotten the impression she’d come to detest the criminal Odell Hawkins had become.
Cutter nodded toward a vidscreen where a news anchor was reporting on a general strike called by the Martian Independence Party that had idled much of the Red Planet’s infrastructure.
“I hear it’s getting tense up there. Now that could throw a monkey wrench into this whole shebang.”
“Yeah. The Marvins are beginning to feel like they’re constantly taking it in the ass! Lot of people up there getting tired of it. Lot of ‘em getting more and more militant. Think the Space Authority needs to get out of their business.”
“They didn’t learn anything from the Lunar Uprising?”
“So far, they’re trying to do it peaceful-like. I don’t think anybody wants a repeat of all that bullshit.”
“Yeah, but all it takes is something to go down and the wrong time and the wrong place … next thing you know everybody’s choosing sides, waving a flag and picking up a rifle.” Cutter rubbed his hand thoughtfully through his orange-tinted beard. It was a sharp contrast to the peroxide blonde of his hair. “Politics can be bad for business …” His brow furled thoughtfully. “But then again … it can be good.” He looked contemplative for a moment. “From what I’m hearing from my associates … business could get very good … but in a bad way for a lot of other folks.”
Tiger smiled wryly. “You might even have to choose sides.”
The veteran smuggler laughed loudly. “Talk about something that would be bad for business!” The smile faded slowly, and he looked Tiger over curiously. “And you? Would you choose sides?” He shook his head and held up a hand. “Don’t even answer. Of course, you would.”
Tiger shrugged and reached for the bottle again. “I never was much for fence-straddling.”
“No. You’re the type who roots for the underdog every time. With you, it’s never about winning or losing … it’s about the cause. Especially the lost causes. You believe they’re just and noble. That’s how you justify fighting fights you can never win. Women and children first … right?” Cutter was goading Tiger, but his eyes were now locked in on the obnoxious fat guy who’d had way too much to drink and was loudly harassing Carina. He was starting to annoy Cutter … and not just a little.
“Damn! Keep talking and you’re gonna ruin my rep!” Tiger poured another shot and knocked it back. Is he ridiculing me? Or is he trying to pay me a compliment in some back-handed way? Either way, for some reason, it was rubbing him wrong.
Tiger couldn’t help how he was. He’d always been this way. Even as a kid, he’d been the one who stood up to the bullies on the playground at recess. He was the one who took in stray dogs and nursed them back to health. It was his nature to feel compassion for those no one else cared anything for: the picked-on, the weak … the college girl coerced into becoming a whore … even some rich prick that was probably going to end up in the Tennessee as catfish food.
Just like JC used to do. Just like the song about wearing black clothes. Somebody had to stand for those without a voice of their own.
Cutter seemed to sense he’d touched a nerve. Whatever else Tiger was, he was once closer than a brother. He’d been a Spacer, by God! It was time to back off and rub a little salve in. “Don’t get me wrong, old friend. I admire you. You still believe in something. You and me, we go back a long way. Remember the strike at Mojave … when they tried to bring in those scab pilots from India? We fucked them up good, didn’t we? Hell, son! If I was in a fight, there’s not anybody out there I’d rather have my back. You’ve always had a
