Chapter Ten
Spectral Information
Raniko was nobody’s fool. An educated woman, she had learned her lessons well. Always a quick learner, she had fast become a leading hunter, in part due to her heightened sense of suspicion in later years. She was quick to utilise everything in her favour and had used the Star Fighter’s jungle drums to find out any information on the whereabouts of escaped bipene, Devon, since being given her latest mission.
Each day, she took a stroll into the seedy streets surrounding Star Fighter’s HQ. Stepping out into Saw Street, Raniko headed for the corner with Rigger Road, the place where market traders saw fit to dump their leftovers a place rife with fat blue bottles and a constant green vapour.
It was from this corner that Raniko knew she would be followed, her scent picked up by one of the Zero Guard; a two- bit organisation who claimed to protect the planet, run by natives and other humanoid races. Raniko grinned. As she headed out towards Cutter’s Way, home of money lenders and pawnbrokers, she heard footsteps keeping a respectful distance.
She turned around unexpectedly and saw a dark figure leap into a doorway. Raniko broke into loud laughter, which doubled her over. Her glossy hair, now poker- straight and tied into a high ponytail, shook with the effort. Her pursuer looked slowly from his hiding place, damning her long, skinny legs in those tight blue jeans with the leather boots up to here and voluptuous hips upon which she placed her hands, scoffing at his amateurish attempts at espionage. She scratched the sides of her black cashmere sweater. Raniko was the only one who dared to walk such streets studded with diamonds; in her ears, around her wrists, on her fingers. Not even the wall to wall villains were allowed to dim her glittering lights. Some had previously tried to relieve her of her tokens but had found themselves sent home with a bruise instead of a sparkle.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” she mocked.
“Shh,” the follower said and pulled up his black hood. “Walls have ears.”
“Oh, Mets, give it up. One of these days, I swear, I’ll take you out in the woods and show you how to stalk someone properly.”
Mets stepped sheepishly from the shadows and fingered his black hood suspiciously. Raniko found it hard to be concerned about her assailant when being followed by a three foot nothing local with a patchy moustache. Nothing fit his body properly; his combat trousers dragged on the dirty cobbles and had ripped upon the ground and his sleeves extended far beyond his hands. This said, Mets did have one particular talent. If you wanted information, Raniko knew Mets could find it, somehow, somewhere.
“I hear you lookin’ for someone.” Mets fidgeted.
“Always looking, honey. So, are you wasting my time or you got something to tell me?”
“I got something.” Mets nodded rapidly. “What you got?”
Raniko pulled a wad of currency from her pocket. “These what you’re after?”
“Hand it over, bounty hunter.”
“Not yet, wise guy. Information first, remember?”
Mets looked around suspiciously. “I got a wraith. I think they know where your guy is.”
“Really?” Raniko rarely dealt with cosmic wraiths. They freaked her out; there one minute, gone the next, unsure of what the beings actually were, without a face or even a proper shape. Even so, any information they had given her in the past had proved solid and she was desperate for a lead.
“It’s inside me. Right now.”
“Inside you? That’s different.”
“Yeah, yeah, it needed to hide for a while, lay low, so I offered it my services.”
“Not for free, I presume?”
“Give me a break, Raniko. I gotta make a livin’.”
“Alright,” she conceded, since Mets was becoming more skittish by the minute. “I’ve got the cash. Come on then, out with it.”
“Not here. It won’t come out in daylight.”
“Then where and when, honey? I’ve not got all day. Come on.”
Mets guided Raniko down a small, cobbled, rank alley into a single car parking bay, empty at the time. After checking carefully that they were alone, he opened his mouth. Slowly curling from the dark recesses by his tongue, a blue smoke unfurled. Mets tapped his small foot, impatient to be rid of his visitor, but the cosmic wraith coiled out little by little, full of concern. It rose in front of Raniko’s face, shifting shape all the time, like the smoke laden atmosphere of a crummy public house. Even without a face, without eyes or nose or mouth, Raniko knew it was watching her. Entranced by the depth of the colour blue in such a small presence, Raniko jumped as it seemed to stretch out a vulnerable hand to check her aura.
Raniko acted slowly so as not to spook the shadow, and smiled at it calmly. The blue smoke became even brighter, blowing and undulating like an ocean wave. Lazily, dreamily, the wraith ushered close to Raniko’s ear. Soon she smiled and knew that the information was good.
Chapter Eleven
Marriage Guidance
Since Devon had broken the initiation ceremony, Talia had not stopped crying. She was not sure why. She did not love him. Perhaps she liked him a little for his angelic looks, but that was all. She was totally unclear as to why her hot tears would not stop rolling out and staining her cheeks.
Queen Uno was using each salted droplet to fuel her fire of hatred, which blazed to the point of dire indigestion. What Talia did not realise, or was not ready to recognise, was the fact that her mother had never been so attentive towards her as in this moment. Uno had fluffed pillows, fetched water, fussed and mithered, and that was why Talia’s lake of tears would not stop filling.
“Our time is at hand,” the black queen would promise in the folds of the pretty pink princess bedroom. “He will be found and I will punish him. I spoke to a very interesting man who runs a bounty hunting operation. Very primal, I know, but desperate times do call for such measures.”
“I don’t want him back!” Talia would sob. “I hate him!”
“Of course,” Uno soothed with her sandpaper like voice. “That is often the way of things. I couldn’t stand your father at first.”
“Really?” Talia was unnerved by this most unexpected news.
“Of course. Marriage is a funny thing. Don’t even try to understand it. I never could. Thinking about it only causes pain. I find a much better way of dealing with those emotions is to channel it into something different. Something like finding your enemies. There’s always some problem or other to deal with, my precious. Let me show you effective ways of solving such problems. I’ll be your guide in such a nasty world.”
Chapter Twelve
Travelling In Style
Raniko’s choice of space travel was, like the rest of her fine lifestyle, elegant and glamorous. Even from the outside, The Opulence was obviously something special. Oval in shape, except above the cockpit, where the metal was moulded into the head of a jaguar. Most spacecraft tended to be white or bare metal. The Opulence was golden. Not pure gold. If she had remained modelling, it would certainly have been, but not now. Now she had to make sacrifices.
Inside the ship, its interior resembled a hotel penthouse. Entering through the side door, there was a large living area, the round room skirted with suede sofas, soft sheepskin rugs, a wide screen television, full surround sound and tropical fish tanks, all in a colour scheme of coffee, cream and amber, studded occasionally with diamante. Off this leisure space, were two bedrooms, slim but gloriously furnished with bronze satin bedspreads and golden sequinned scatter cushions, the master bedroom having a large dressing table. The bathroom had a Jacuzzi bath, of course, and even the prisoner’s quarters had a beautiful bedspread, only single, and a leopard print rug.
Up front, the cockpit ran the same colour scheme, each chair in velvety cream suede, piped with orange cotton and embroidered diamante leopards prowled each back rest. Hudson Brody had laughed to the point of urination when Raniko made her purchase and first glided into his docking bay, so proud of her baby, for which rudeness she had stamped upon his foot. Raniko had travelled miles to an auction for The Opulence, owned previously by a super model with a penchant for big cats, which suited Raniko just fine. Even though the docking bay droids had their work cut out keeping the fish fed and the golden taps shining, she still considered her purchase a bargain.
She slid the jewel encrusted handle into forward gear, escaping in The Opulence towards the Jendo system, setting a course for Kirslar and in particular a resort named Botanica.
Chapter Thirteen
Employee Of The Week
Moving to Botanica had definitely been one of Devon’s better choices. His apartment on the ground floor was a basic room but, by his standards, was on a par with the palace dojo. Within several days, he had a bank of clients queuing for his services. Rich women mostly, on long holidays for perhaps a few months while the cold periods on their own planets passed by.Odd times, he would get a male tennis player or swimmer visiting for a sports massage but there was another masseuse who specialised in sporting injuries so Devon tended to take her overspill. Devon did not realise that his working day today was to be a special one.
His first client with a ten o’clock appointment was Marlie Nero, a mid-thirties Martian female on holiday with her friends in celebration of her divorce. Her pale green skin almost camouflaged her in the massage suite but her furious dark eyes and shoulder length dark plaits made her stand out. She was pretty, apart from her permanent frown, and although only four and a half feet tall had a dynamic aura which made Devon step back anxiously when she strode in naked and threw herself onto the massage bed.
“Is there anything in particular you would like me to concentrate on today, madam?”
“Just something general. All my tension disappeared as soon as I signed the divorce papers,” Marlie laughed, the sound muffled by the couch.
“Any allergies?”
“Only my husband.”
Devon smiled and began to warm up the almond oil in his palms. For aromatherapy for this client, he decided upon oil of freshly peeled lemons and a spray of oxygenised spring water. Marlie had come away for escapism and it was his job to ensure she got the full experience. He enjoyed this new job. People respected him, liked him even, and the rush of independence was overwhelming. As such, his hands sparkled today, and Marlie let out an unconscious sigh as he began to knead the bottom of her back into submission. Devon spent a lot of time running two fingers either side of her spine, a technique he had learned back home to add zest to the day.
By the time he stood at the top of the bed and began to work the inner shoulder, Marlie was fizzing. Marlie suddenly groped into Devon’s sarong, searching for his shlong. Devon jumped a little but was so relaxed himself and inspired by the fresh oils, that he allowed her to continue. In the semi-light, both of them warm and cosy, Devon’s erection began to grow and soon Marlie lifted her head, parted his skirt and traced his glans with her hot, wet tongue. For a vengeful woman, she was surprisingly gentle, and raised his blood pressure to aching point. Marlie suddenly snatched at him and swallowed him whole. As she furiously sucked, the massage bed began to move, digging into the floor with a screech every time. However, Marlie wanted more. She stopped abruptly and glared at Devon.
“I haven’t come all this way just to give you a blow job,” she griped. “I haven’t slept with a man since I caught my husband shagging our next door neighbour in the greenhouse. Get up on this table and show me what it’s all about.”
Fortunately Devon had been groomed as a people pleaser. Although recently he had taken his life back into his own hands, which most decidedly displeased some very important people, he figured he could spare the time to please Marlie. It wasn’t such a bad job after all. At least he could say ‘no’ now if he wanted to, and he chose to say ‘yes’ this time.
Mounting the table with Marlie still spread-eagled face down upon it, Devon unwrapped his sarong and filled her with something she had already caused to be very hard. All the oil on her body and his hands allowed him to slip his hand underneath her and give her clitoral stimulation.
“I knew it could be like this!” Marlie yelled and slapped the side of the leather bed. “Yes! Yes!” Devon knew that he had satisfied another customer and hoped that she would tip well.