Dark Space - Marianne de Pierres [56]
‘The need for this mineral is somewhat urgent,’ said Tekton.
‘Mate,’ Jo-Jo said. ‘You can stick your contract. I’ve got Lawmon all over Orion who could tie you up in court for years. Duress and all that.’
Tekton’s expression remained unchanged apart from a small distortion of pixels that made his nose appear to jiggle. ‘That is most unlikely, Mr Rasterovich.’
Jo-Jo eyeballed the farcast imager nonchalantly. ‘I’m also halfway to Bellatrix. How exactly do you plan to catch me?’
‘If you care to examine the contents of the contract shell in your possession, perhaps you will understand that I mean to hold you to it.’
‘Not bloody likely,’ said Jo-Jo with feeling. But as he terminated the farcast, a sense of foreboding grew in him. What had he signed? A simple worthless contract, he thought. In truth, he recalled little of those moments in the ménage lounge, aside from the difficulty he had had catching his breath, and the way his limbs had snubbed him when he had tried to flee the scene of his plight. Even now, the memories caused a great, anxious shudder to pass through him.
Annoyed and worried, he stamped along Salacious II’s velour-luxurious corridors to his laundry and rifled through several months’ worth of dirty clothes. He found the shell in the pocket of the trousers he’d worn on Belle-Monde and took it back to his den.
After swallowing a sherbet of sniffing tobacco he cracked the contract shell open. An image transferred itself onto his deskfilm.
‘Mr Rasterovich,’ it informed him. ‘You have agreed to the terms of a Hera.’
Fuck! Jo-Jo’s heart stopped. ‘Jesu and Crux.’ A Hera contract? Only the expensive medites he’d purchased on Teranu prevented him from a full-scale coronary occlusion. Scrabbling madly to inflate his artery they brought him back to life in a few milliseconds. Which was a damn shame, he thought afterwards. If he’d agreed to a Hera contract he might as well be dead anyway.
The contract’s image had thoughtfully paused itself while he recovered, and it cleared its throat before continuing. ‘In brief, the terms are these: you shall deliver the agreed goods. Failure to meet the terms will result in the reclamation of all your wealth and the cancellation of any future rejuvenation. You will, in short, become poor and old. And you will die. Should you fulfil the contract all penalties will be withdrawn. It should be noted that Hera contracts have no process of appeal. The official version of this message can be viewed by forwarding to subsection B1.’
* * * *
With the grudging manner of one who recognises inevitability and doesn’t quite have the balls to spit right in its face, Jo-Jo called Tekton back.
The fop came on the farcast imager, calm and more than a trifle smug.
‘Tell me what you want, prick,’ said Jo-Jo.
‘Aaaah . ..’ Tekton’s explanation of the mineral he sought was lengthy and colourful.
Jo-Jo condensed his waffling into three short categories: fluidly supple, resilient and beautiful in its natural form. Impossible.
For the first time in a long while, Jo-Jo set to work. He searched his databases for weeks, called every contact he had ever known, or thought he knew, but nothing came of it.
The galaxy was too small, he thought, to accommodate something of the kind. Its minerals were well catalogued.
Jo-Jo alternated between despair, feverish investigation, and fantasies of revenge to be taken on the fop. Between the times spent tracking down mineral assays from every lump of rock in the Orion system he gathered all the information he could on Tekton.
The smart, he vowed, would pay for his dirty trick.
So hectic did Jo-Jo’s days and nights become that he had little time or inclination to spend with his sim-women.
One week, as he passed through various stages of despair, he decided to land on the invitation-only bordello pseudo-world of Vela.
Several days and many infection screenings later Jo-Jo found himself at Vela’s most salubrious bar in no better mood.
That was until an OLOSS circuit judge started buying drinks and drugs for the entire place.
Jo-Jo rose to the occasion,