He closed his eyes, but he couldn’t close out the sounds of the coupling.
It was the penance he would pay.
He would accept what he had coming. He deserved it. And somehow, someway, somewhere … someone had a reckoning awaiting them.
«◊»
“A puppy!” she exclaims as he pulls the sad-eyed little hound out from under his coat and offers it to her.
“You said you wanted one.” Tiger winks. “Merry Christmas, Happy Birthday and be my Valentine!”
The bar patrons loudly applaud as she takes the lab mix from him. The look on her face is priceless. It’s worth every point he’s paid for the little mutt, as pets on Luna are rare, due to their added expense and upkeep. And this one was the last one the pet shop downtown had left due to the blockade, which means he paid an even more exorbitant price.
“Oh, baby! Thank you so, sooo much!” The love and appreciation in her eyes are unabashed, as she reaches for him. She kisses him deeply, dog in one arm, spacer in the other. The crowd, now mostly men and women wearing the uniform of the militia, again cheer on the hot, passionate show of gratitude. Beside him, the bar owner, an Italian man named Bellini, raises his hands to quiet the noise.
“Awright, Tiger wants me to tell you all … this next round is on him!”
The loudest cheer of all goes up.
As she cuddles her furry new companion, Tiger spots the man sitting in the corner booth. He raises his hand slightly. Tiger nods back in acknowledgment.
“Will you excuse me a minute, darling?” He kisses her on the top of the head. “I’ll be right back. I just need to speak to a gentleman.”
The man waves for the waitress as Tiger makes his way over. “What’ll ya have?” he asks, as Tiger slides into the booth opposite the man. He smiles wryly. “Order anything you want, since you’re paying this round.” He extends his hand. “Cal Gentry. SNN.”
“Tanner Thomas,” he answers. He takes the man’s hand. “Everyone calls me Tiger. Oh, and I’ll have a Crown and Coke.”
He looks the reporter over. He’s a middle-aged guy with the look of a dashing Sol-trotting adventurer. Perma-dyed, UV-free tan. Photo-friendly hair. Perfect teeth. Camera-loving smile. He’s the kind of guy real men dream of being one day. Chasing pirates in the Belt one week; in a shark cage filming Great Whites off the coast of Australia the next; two weeks later, he’s covering labor unrest on Mars. Tiger’s seen him on the multivision newsfeeds a time or two. He’s a reasonably reputable correspondent. Just ask him. The fact that he’s been sent to cover the action here means the news networks expect the shit to get real. And soon.
Tiger notices him watching Star curiously. He observes her for a few moments, scratches his five o’clock shadow, then turns to Tiger.
“So that’s her, huh?”
“Yep, that’s her.”
“She’s a doll,” he remarks. “The uniform’s a new kink. Never seen an Andie with a pet before.”
“That’s just one of many behavioral traits she’s exhibited the last few weeks.”
The reporter furrows his brow. “Have you witnessed other unusual behavior?”
“Affirmative.”
Such as?”
“Sadness. Contemplating suicide. Desire to own personal possessions.”
“Such as a puppy?”
“Ditto.”
“How do you know she’s not just mimicking emotions she’s witnessed?” he asks skeptically. “I’ve done some research. This behavior has been documented in other androids. Parroting, I think the eggheads call it.”
“I know what they call it. I’ve spent years around Andies. Weeks on deep space runs, just me and mine … and yeah, before you say it, I’ve fucked my share of ‘em.”
Gentry grins. “I bet you have. Still … no offense, but that doesn’t make you an expert.”
“I never claimed to be. And no offense, but a press badge doesn’t make you a good reporter.”
Gentry laughs and leans back, taking a sip of his martini. “I’ve asked around about you.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. You’re one of the Cap’n’s boys. Doesn’t surprise me to find one of his best and brightest mixed up in all of this … even though he’s been smart enough to steer clear. Officially, that is.”
“That’s why he’s the Cap’n.” Tiger wonders if Gentry knows or at least suspects the truth; that James is behind the clandestine supply line smuggling weapons, munitions and food into the blockaded colonies. If he’s fishing for Tiger to let that fact slip, he’ll be sadly mistaken. He ain’t giving the Old Man up.
“So, what do you want from me?” Gentry asks, nodding toward Starr, who’s now surrounded by several other women, wishing to pet the puppy. “As far as she’s concerned, that is.”
“I thought you might know some folks. Scientists and such, who would be interested in this kind of behavior.” He pauses as the waitress brings his drink. He waits until she leaves before continuing. “But I don’t want her disassembled like a toaster, looking for a loose wire or a bad solder joint.”
Gentry is silent for a moment, contemplating it all. He watches her for a few more moments, petting her puppy. Finally, he looks up at Tiger. “Tell me. What do you think they’re going to do with an android that’s killed hundreds of Authority troops? The best thing you can do is take her and run, son. Maybe Cap’n Reb can hide her out there in the Belt somewhere. If the wrong people get wind of her … there won’t be an Andie left in this entire solar system.”
The man’s words are like a punch in the gut. He’s right, and Tiger knows it. He’s been so intent on proving that something miraculous
