Dark Space - Marianne de Pierres [125]
The humanesque, though, had a different kind of effect on him. He had antagonist stamped all over him—in not-so-obvious ways. Jo-Jo found himself caught somewhere between wary and randy. Ugly could make an ‘esque as damn horny as beauty.
After a pathetically one-sided struggle Jo-Jo allowed his sexual urge to win and moved along the bar.
‘Buy you and your mate a drink?’
The humanesque gave him a hooded look. ‘My mate might eat you.’
‘That’s what I was hoping,’ replied Jo-Jo.
The humanesque laughed spontaneously. ‘You berthed on that luxury yacht. Fancy gear for someone who drinks in bars alone.’
‘Salacious II is company enough for most. It’s station-side when a bloke gets lonely.’
‘I’ll have blood juice. My shipmate likes OP rum. What business would you be in, then?’
Jo-Jo spoke to the Table Order before he answered. ‘An easier one than you, my friend.’
The humanesque gave him a sharp look. ‘How do you reckon that?’
‘Your clothes tell me you don’t like to dress up, and the ship you’re in on is known for shuttling mercs. I’d say you’re on your way to a job. Probably Dash or Latino Crux.’
‘You’re a smart man . . .’
‘Ivan.’
The merc laughed at the false name and held his hand out. ‘Jud.’ He took his blood juice to a small table by the window and sat back to watch Jo-Jo woo his companion.
Later, when Jo-Jo’s HealthWatch began to whisper in his ear that his sexual function would be impaired if he imbibed further and the Balol merc had begrudgingly told him her name (‘Ilke, but you may not use it’), Jud rose and bade the pair goodnight.
Jo-Jo took But-you-may-not-use-it-Ilke back to his room-in and let her walk on him.
She did it with a vehemence that forced him to raise his endorphin levels to cope with the pain. ‘Outstanding,’ he gasped as she pressed her spines into his buttocks. ‘Truly illuminating.’
Jo-Jo, an armed intruder has entered shipzone. The quiet mindmessage from Salacious II snapped him out of his ecstasy.
He shoved But-you-may-not-use-it-Ilke onto the floor and pulled on his clothes.
She stood up, showing fully flushed arousal and growling menacingly. ‘You do not run out on Ilke.’
Jo-Jo pulled a revolver from the pocket of his suit. ‘Put your clitoris away, Balol. If you have anything to do with this, I’ll come back for you and rip those charming spines out, one by one.’
She remained motionless as he backed out of the room, a tiny smile hovering around her false lip.
* * * *
Salacious II was parked on theta arm in a secure bay for luxury craft. The ship’s port entry was wide open as if someone had left in a hurry.
Why is the damn door open?
The intruder damaged a portion of my senses with a virus. I cannot tell what hatches are closed or open, I cannot. . . I cannot fly. The last sounded like a sob. I am trying to grow new sensors but as you know—
Yeah, yeah—it takes time. Well, hurry up, you’re buck naked and ready to pluck.
I fear I may already be plucked.
Jo-Jo dragged the hatch across manually but could not make it seal. Fuck it. I’m going in to have a look. Where was the main action?
My subsidiary sensors detected that the den was entered.
The den! Jo-Jo ran the decks to the heart of his ship.
A quick scan told him that the room had been searched—not so that it would appear so, but with a singular purpose in mind. He checked his log vault and his credit crystals.
What else? What could the merc have been after?
Then he noticed the Carabinere.
‘Mr Rasterovich?’ A station-security man stood in the doorway, fidgeting in an officious manner.
‘You’re too late. He’s gone. But I know which ship he was on.’
The Carabinere didn’t move. ‘We have a warrant to search your vessel.’
Jo-Jo’s jaw dropped. ‘For