The following story is a spinoff of the Lothiraxl/Grim Reaper/Drell and Prelude tales by the author.
Rating M for mature.
Sex, violence, language.
Installment I:
Spinners: Lothiraxl
Summary:
A new take on "The Martyr Effect", meet "Lady" Kina Tian, a woman who once got by with fighting in glove-matches on Elan-Nine before encountering Konis Traus, a "Spinner" who introduced her to the rest of his friends and their mission….A new life awaits for Kina, who discovers deeper ties she has to "kindred" like him.
Chapter 1
2182
Stepping out into the cold air whereas a blast of the frigid wind from the pool gardens made its way through the airlimo's interior, causing the woman inside to grip herself, her skin pimpling and the aureolas tightening into rictus lines under her thin blouse, the man outside turned and offered his hand to her for help up from her seat.
Jeez, it's cold…How could these pool gardens be called pools when they must be frozen over? The man took off his coat and held it out while the chauffeur—a consummate turian with black slacks over his hips and leggy protruberances standing him stiffly at the handle of the door, waited for the woman to emerge. The dull roar they had heard from inside the airlimo was now as loud as a jet engine and the man—a drell himself, had to call over it:
"The fans cooling the gardens make it cold, but it's not that bad!"
The woman came out of the limo, her skirt and blouse blown back against her legs and body. She accepted the expensive coat he put over her shoulders and only hunched a little less when his hands remained on her arms. His gaze was lowered down to her eyes as she blinked against the freezing wind and gazed back up at him. The silk-satin lining of the tailored suit top was comfortable and welcoming to her skin, and his hands were hotter than she expected, seeping warmth through the fabric of coat outer and inner lining…welcoming to have against the blowing cold air. All that separated them was that suitcoat and their sensibilities for the moment.
Aside from the blast of the overhead fan system roaring in their ears, the sound of chains constantly swaying and brushing over each other's links in the wind. Great synthetic vines of metal luster, flowering with pink, impossible buds that bloomed here in this impossible place atop the city of Lothiraxl…her eyes drawn to these and his eyes following her gaze.
The world beyond this strange and eerie place was of setting sun and building neon lights glowing on and outward from the city's silver towers of singing metal—reflecting off their eyes. It was seven standard Lothiraxl time in the evening and they could almost hear the long horn sounding from the bay of Port Mother.
The drell walked her away from the airlimo, minding their steps as the ground was slick with frozen metal covered in patches of ice both obvious and not. The driver closed the door with a loud thump, his white gloved talons not nicking the black paint of the vehicle floating in space over the bottom landing of stairs leading to the upper pools, vines, and fans suspended over these by elements of unseen power and stability controlling the massive engines.
His green eyes were lustrous in the setting of the day, pink and orange skies sprawling from the horizon where the sun began to set, burning away clouds.
"Welcome to the Pool Gardens."
Leading her away from the airlimo and the turian, he guided her carefully up the steps towards the great vats waiting above them. The lips of the vats were not that tall, but one had to step over these to set their shoes on the thick ice covering each perfect circle of pool. The drell stepped over first, helped her next onto the ice despite her heels of patent leather kitten shoes. Both were likely to fall from a slip, but he was surefooted—sure of himself, too.
He scooped her up then and carried her amidst her protests to the middle of the ice. She looked down at the frozen surface, bubbles caught in the solid ice veneer and thin chips and hairline crackings where icicles had fallen from the fan vents above and struck. One wrong step and they could fall through to where those pools and their pipes let out somewhere far below in Lothiraxl's deeps.
"I don't think this is a wise idea."
He set her heels down on the ice and drove his own into the thick surface, cracking it off in splinters of glasslike chips as she stared wide-eyed at what he was recklessly attempting.
"Stop!—what are you doing!"
"Don't worry. It's too thick—it won't break. Our weight alone is not enough to break this ice. You can't fall through even if you tried to crack it as I am. Not even these efforts combined with yours will make it weak enough to break apart."
Realizing the thickness of the ice cap over the pool vat, she turned to look up at the chains. The ice crunched under her heels as she walked over it, hugging the suitcoat to her slender frame. A breathing hiss of melting ice caused her to turn back.
He was using a ringlaser to melt a hole through the ice between his shoes.
"Stop, now you're really tempting bullshit, Cartira."
His green-eyed gaze went up to hers, a small grin on his rugged, golden face as he directed the blue light down direct into the ice and melted a perfect hole steaming upward from the pool. A sweet smell managed to be noticed amid the blowing of the fans then…she went back to bend a little closer and see down through the centimeter-wide hole in the ice.
All she could see at the bottom of that hole was inky blackness, the sweet odor stronger…it was quite deep.
"These pools feed down to the heart of Lothiraxl's power generators. They cool the city." She looked at him in question. "Each of these pools take care that the city doesn't overheat. There are sixty in all. I have drawn all of them and studied this place and its connections since I came here ten years ago. There are bays deeper down that exchange the hot water and the cold here from these gardens. That funnel to their respective heat coils helping to distribute the exchange of byproduct from the generators functioning below. There's a manager in the city who knows greater details of how the system works, and most its parts' operations. He is a hard man to talk to. Elusive and not of this world."
"Sounds like someone important…or a phantom."
He smiled, "…Perhaps he is." He pulled her down by her waist to kneel on the front of his coat's panels to see the hole closer. "Lothiraxl is a machine. It was built by others that still exist in parts of this city we cannot see. We have only lived here for a second of the minutiae of time we've been a part of this universe. It has 'Keepers' as those that exist on the Citadel." His gaze went over her face—the flaws, the imperfections that made her as he knew her to be. She was darker in complexion than the paler of the women, human, walking about in Lothiraxl down below in the streets and ellipses, and she had scars on her skin from fighting, refusing the treatments to heal these marks of memory. The scars made her attractive all the more to him, and to others who did not dismiss these as flaws but as highlights, each with different story…and so did not dismiss her altogether.
His hands went to her face, warming her instantly where his fingers and palms brushed her skin. She sucked in her breath and held it as their connection intensified not only within his touch, but of his eyes locking on hers.
"What, Cartira?"
"I've come to a revelation. I want to kiss you."
"Cartir, don't." There was a stillness in his face, the kind of stillness behind which great energy was building and could be seen—the covers about to be blown off and the power of that force ready to unleash.
It quelled.
Exposed before her was a drell waiting to cross the line, however. His fingers brushed the freezing tears coming out of her eyes…the dam fallen...his greens went to her brown hair and followed the straight strands down to her shoulders, blasted flat from the vent above their kneeling forms on that iced-over pool. He moved forward and kissed her, the sweetness of his breath and the caramel of his skin the first hint he had done this as she knelt on his coat panels, frozen in time as the ice under the fabric protecting her knees.
It was so cold up there and he was so warm. Why is he doing this? She broke from her spell and pushed him away—from her lips, her face, herself. She left her hands around her chest, arms laced over these to try and hide herself from the shocking cold. She gave him as ice-cold a stare as she could, but felt it fake. "Have you no self-restraint?"
"I have." He glanced at her knees covered under his suitcoat, between her skin and the ice. "I've restrained myself, but I want you—I want you to know I want you—I want to see how you'll react now that you know I do. Maybe you'll change your mind?" He looked up as alone one of the chain vines streaming ceaselessly in the vented air, pink flowers opened all in a row of once-closed buds. It was a sign. "I know what you're thinking. A woman devoted to another man shouldn't—wouldn't want to threaten that—but the way I see you, the way I see you…you don't want that between us."
"That's…not what I want."
He stood and offered his hand for her to take to rise. Her hands came out from the suitcoat and grasped his—still hot as before.
Naked thoughts of sweating under that heat furnace of a body in bedsheets or stretched against an office floor crossed her state of mindful propriety. She trembled not only from the cold against her legs. He saw it in her eyes and leaned forward to kiss her again. She resisted, but as she tried to lean away and turn, he caught her arms above the elbow and prevented her from avoiding him.
He rest his brow against her hairline, closing his eyes and smelling her perfume, the breath puffed out through her lips in little clouds of steam under his golden nose.
"You set me on fire."
"Don't do this to us, Cartira…please…I've promised him we're only friends." The second kiss was on her nose, the third on her cheek, the fourth joined by her upper lip as she hesitatingly tilted her head back to greet him on his seeking lower lip.
"You feel it…you feel our fire…"
He took a breath through his nose before closing their mouths over each other's. His hands went around her, saving her from the cold air as he hugged her tight to his physique. She felt alive in that moment—hungry, tasting passion once again and that sweet, sweet spell of blood rushing to her loins. He poured into her life through that beautiful, tumultuous kiss in the pool gardens. Her hands went to his broad back, barely able to reach around the wide breadth of his shoulders and traps. She didn't stop to wonder the consequences….Who else would see them here sharing this kiss alone above Lothiraxl's singing streets of metal?
What future was there in this kiss with him?
She left his mouth and taste behind, feeling the cursory numbness on the surface tissue of her tongue and lips. The suitcoat hung on the corners of her shoulders, held up by his arms around her waist.
"I think I need to go home."
"Do you think this was a mistake?"
"I don't know. I think it's only the beginning of a major problem though."
"This was meant to happen."
"I don't know, Cartir." She licked her lip. It was definitely numb from both the cold—and his venom.
"I want to take you home. To my place."
"No, Cartir. That's not where we should go." Her lips were turning paler from the wind and cold. He gazed at her for a moment and began to loosen his arm around her, but drawing the suitcoat together over her chest with his fingers.
He picked her up and felt how light she was in his arms, carried her without the protests from earlier across the ice and to the lip of the vat. She looked at the fine folds of violet skin behind his cheeks and under his jaw, standing out in contrast against his neck and throat of scale—golden like the rest of him but for his eyes and tebral folds. Passing over the lip of the vat he set her down on the start of the descending steps to the landing below where the airlimo waited, the chauffeur's hand on the handle of the door, having remained outside in anticipation of their return.
They turned and looked back up at the slowly shivering vines, shifting and swaying like weeds under water in the steady blow of air currents.
"I won't ever change my mind, Cartira."
"About Lothiraxl—or us."
She turned her face to his, saw the quiet force behind his calm visage, immaculate and handsome, square of jaw, tapered of chin.
"You."
His calm face revealed a smile.
"What, that I'm bad news?"
"You're trouble."
"Don't give up on me, Kina." He lifted her hair over her shoulders with the fingers in the middle of his hands.
"It's impossible what you want."
"Nothing's impossible. Look around you! Lothiraxl, Kin'. That's why I brought you here. To show you nothing's impossible." He waved to the turian, who opened the door at the rear of the vehicle. "Let's get you inside to the heat, talk more." His hand on the small of her back, he guided her down the stairs, ready to catch her if she slipped on the ice and dangerous heels.
"I don't want there to be any more of what we did, Cartir." She risked a glance over to his face, studying her steps as he walked her down.
"I'll follow your signals, Kina. I'm watching out for you." He took his eyes off the stairs and her shoepoints to connect with her flitting glances from the same and his.
"You're trying to imply I'm somehow going to give you the okay."
His smile broadened.
"Yes."
She frowned as they reached the bottom landing. "Cartira—"
"Your lead." He moved his hand towards the warm, waiting interior of the airlimo. She paused, not finishing what she wanted to say and went on into the limo, ducking to avoid the top of the vehicle and feeling the blow of warm air on her forehead. He stepped to the limo and lowered himself in, the turian closing the door.
Inside the airlimo, his hand went to hers. Her fingers and palm turned upward, squeezing around his as the golden digits fastened tighter.
Chapter 2
The roads back through the sky and into the city were peaceful, serene with the sunset and life going up in Lothiraxl as night settled in. Cartira and Kina sat in the back of the Aldebaran 800X and continued to hold hands, her brow covered by her other fingers. She had a headache. Cartira rubbed her shoulder with his other arm, hand moving back and forth from her neck.
"Are you okay?"
"Migraines."
"I can help with that."
"No, Cartir. I know what you're suggesting and I don't think it's a great idea. He'll be home soon."
The vehicle banked and joined the flow of airtraffic on Atmore Boulevard. Within three more minutes, the Aldebaran stopped just a few blocks from her tower. "Here is fine," she detached her hand from Cartira's and moved over the bench seat towards the right door.
"I'll stay here and make sure you reach your block before we leave. I want to know you've made it inside, Kina."
"Okay. Thanks, Cartira." The chauffeur had opened the door. "Have a good night, Azim. Thank you for driving us."
"And you have a good evening, Mistress Tian."
§
"She seems to be well considering you've made her into a sinner, Sered."
"Mind what you say, Azim, and keep your keen eyes forward. Make sure she gets in and no one's following."
"It's dangerous what you're doing with her."
"I realize, but did you see her tonight?"
"Of course, Sered."
"She's a night rose. The vines opened for her. It's a sign."
"How can you be so sure."
"You'd have to hold her the way I did tonight, Azim," Cartira smiled, leaning his weight against the front bench back, his elbow between the headrests of both passenger and driver seats, "…Her body changes when I kiss her. It's intoxicating."
Azim turned his face some to look partly at his employer while keeping an eye to the back of the woman moving farther down the sidewalk from them.
§
She walked as fast as the heels permitted. Night was cooling the metal streets and the vents emitting the cool-off from the day. Most of that absorbed heat would go somewhere in Lothiraxl to be used to help keep it running. Energy in, energy out. She turned her face to see the Aldebaran still parked with its lights off, guiders glowing underneath the vehicle to indicate the grid traps were engaged for prevention of collision by other drivers. Facing her building, she crossed the next alleyway and approached the corner door set. These slid open automatically, and as they were glass, she had a view of the secure lobby and its inner glow of warmth.
The concierge in the lobby of the tower located at 80 Sola Boulevard and its intersecting boulevard of Atmore raised his amphibious eyes to the woman stepping through. Even though the doors' security system was tagged to residents of the tower, it was important to confirm with his eyes that the arrival of such resident was no error and not in need of assistance.
"Good evening, Mistress Tian."
"Hi, Halovar." She waved as soon as she heard him, the doors just opening.
She had lived there for at least five years since her initial move into the city in Grim Reaper. She hated the name, but her husband didn't have time nor care for the connotations associated with such a title for a solar system. Someone had thought themselves dramatic in the naming of the cluster of stars. She reflected some on the manner in which her husband had informed her the name of the system and the space station they were to move to as she crossed the carpet towards glass lifts leading the eye upwards to layers of suites constructed one on top of another, and to disorienting heights. The doors were lined with silver framing, curved to follow the glass, and slid open akin to bank chutes for passing deposits from air vessels to their secured tellers' hands. Such as now, Kina stepped in through the open passage and gained access to one of the lifts. "Floor thirty-one." The door slid closed and sealed her from the lobby. Halovar observed her transition to the next level before returning his attention to the security camera displays. Kina saw him turn his back to the wall she was flying up through and wondered if he ever said anything about her appearances this late in the evening to her husband. The pressure from the ride pressed down through her belly and heels into the silver floor of the lift.
"Level thirty-one," and the lift door circled open. Kina stepped out onto her floor.
Turning left, she passed the large vanity mirror that greeted everyone arriving on the level by lift. Pictures framed in reflective halite showed moving stills of various foreign worlds selected for their austere backgrounds. Some were calming to gaze at while others drove into the viewer a sense of foreboding. All were selected by her husband, in charge of the tower's management. She focused on the end of the hall. Every fifty steps was a door made nearly seamless with the metal walls and denoted by a lit number and letter above each. Theirs was 31B. She passed the first door on her right and counted the frames as she continued towards the second door.
Lifting her hair from off her neck, a laser scanned an implanted code from below the number 3 above the doorway, a code that relayed her genetic signature to the tower system control center regulated by Port Mother. The light turned from red to blue and signaled that she may enter her home. "Your implant is due for upgrades in twenty-one days, Mistress Tian." Kina stopped inside the apartment and closed her eyes. She would have to make the trip to Port Mother's facilities in the South Barend to undergo the upgrades.
"Is the master home?"
"Master Konis has not registered entry as of your request."
Up until this moment, she had been carrying looped across her shoulder a small purse made of black leather varren hide. She also had in hand a briefcase from work, which she had kept in the airlimo while meeting with Cartira. Now she set these down in their respective places and took some time to check them over and look for fingerprints clear to her eyes and others who might examine for these. On a counter by the door, she left her purse. The briefcase found its home in her office space. She went to the kitchen and took out from a cabinet a can of oil and a soft cloth, brought these to her purse, and proceeded to use the can's contents to oil the leather and wipe it down. Next she went to her office space and oiled the briefcase, its sides and handle, and wiped the edges clear.
Satisfied that all prints were removed or covered over, she went to her and her husband's bedroom. Unbuttoning her blouse, she pulled her arms free and set it into a bag for laundering. She unzipped the back of her skirt and let the smooth inner lining do its job in gliding off her hips and thighs. She unbuckled her corset and unlaced the tie up in back. Removing the straps of her bra, she unclasped the hooks and eyes from each other and added these all to the laundering bag. She removed her shoes and checked these for fingerprints, shrugged and hooked them into their stays inside the racks of the walk-in closet. Taking off her thong underwear, she disposed of these in the incinerator meant for nail clippings and other bodily, organic parts. She stood naked in the mirror and looked at herself.
The water sprayed in rotating cycles onto her skin while she washed her hair with shampoo that smelled as summer rain and conditioner scented with floral oils. She reached behind the top lip of the shower glass and removed a buffing brush. She began to use this on her skin, vigorously circling the brush over every inch of her body.
After toweling off, she went into the closet opposite her husband's and opened the drawers in search of fresh lounge wear. She opted for satin pants of a cream-gold tint and a matching top that flowed low of the neck-cut and revealed the skin of her chest. She chose no underwear to go with her clothing and dressed.
Walking from the bedroom out into the open plan living room and reading area, she picked up her leisure reading for the night and sat on the couch made of leather and a soft white blanket that covered the brown-suede color. She had chosen a book on senseless vanity, An Asari's Guide to Forever Youth.
Just as she flipped to her folded page marker, the door chimed. "Mistress Tian, Master Konis has signed into the tower and is on his way."
Chapter 3
The panel inside the apartment remained closed. Kina held her book open, watching the words and not ready to see the door itself or who would enter. It would take him less than three minutes to enter the building, take the lift, and come down the hallway if he was not interrupted by anything. Her eyes went across a short, animal-clawed table to the mat by the entrance and finally to the panel itself which was black-pearl gray on the inside to blend with the interior walls.
The seconds ticked by in her head as she waited. The door seemed to sigh apart with the telling gears shifting into entry mode per his lasering in with his code. There he was.
Konis Traus.
Without greeting her, he dropped two bags on the floor either side of the doorway.
He stepped around the furniture, a table, another chair by the couch, and went into the bedroom.
She could hear him changing out of his slacks, the heavy belt he wore falling to the floor with the needle clicking against the metal buckle, and a variety of shifts from a large body moving out of the rest of his gear. His feet were light despite his size and he could be sensed by her as he transitioned into the bathroom, the shower and fan coming on. The ensuing rinse, the rapid brushing, the exiting as the water dripped and the sink running while he brushed his teeth. She forgot to brush hers.
Kina went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of vinegar, started to make a salad of tomatoes and cheese, and stirred this in with olive oil and a few leaves of basil. She proceeded to eat, making sure to coat every part of her mouth with the balsamic vinegar.
The light in the bedroom shut off.
While she ate, she considered the large bags he had left either side of the doorway. She dare not touch either one. Kina bit through a tomato slice, wondering what had come in tonight and what was inside the bags. She glanced to the doorway as she heard the first frequency of an utterance from the other room. He was calling for her.
She couldn't see him in the bed as she stepped into the darkened bedroom as the bed lay against the recessed wall and out of the light let in by those lamps in the living room. Still, she found the bed and raised her knee to kneel atop it, climbing over the covers towards his harder form. His hands rested on his sides as he watched her darkened figure come over to him obediently.
She moved her legs out of her pants and straddled him, sliding onto his girth as it stretched and hurt, but after the initial entrance to her heat, the effects of his venom began to numb her inside and outside. She set to a brisk pace of pleasing him and within four minutes, she could hear him breathe out, the solidness between her legs relaxing and growing less hard.
For the second time that night, she took a shower. When she was through cleaning her mouth and the itinerary of that routine ended with the splash of mouthwash into the sink, the drain slurping down the expelled fluids from her mouth, she went back into the living room and turned off all the lights from there through the kitchen at the far end using a panel of switches. Sliding her hand over these, the apartment was cast into blackness and she had to feel her way back to bed. The sheets felt warm with his presence in them. He had fallen asleep, but woke at her disturbance.
"How was your day."
"Fine, Konis."
"How was work."
Chapter 4
2167
Rocky's was around the corner from her apartments. There was a shortage in her fridge for dairy the evening of September 24, 2167, and she'd put on her shoes and coat to go down the hall, down the stairs, and out the doors to visit the general convenience store for milk. She crossed the street and stepped up onto the curb, pulling her coat up to hide her neck and throat from the cold. Rocky's was lit with a neon blue glow, flickering every minute for a tenth of a second in her sight. The door bells tingled as she pulled the handle towards her and went into warmth.
"How's it going, Rocky?"
"Fine, Kina. You looking for anything new or the same old milk jug."
"Same old."
"Same place. Just got the shipment in from New Arys."
Colored packaging poked out to her view as she made straight down the first aisle towards the back cooling units.
In ten complete strides, she was at her reflection in the glass, looking through herself into the interior where rack upon rack of dairy product sat waiting for her in rows and perfectly symmetrical columns.
Grasping the handle, which was cold and black, she tugged it open from its sucking grip to the frozen seal and reached for a gallon's worth of milk. The plastic yielded under her grip, but lifted whole with the jug from its secure niche inside the rack at her eye level.
"Please…" She stopped from closing it, the door a foot ajar as she heard the rough voice to her left. She widened the door again, passing it to him and his hand fell upon the top of the glass and rubber seal, leaving instant steam marks around his fingers. She stepped back to turn on her way and let him have access to the fridge. Passing him a second glance, she walked the ten steps to the front of the store.
"Will that be all, Kina?"
"Just the milk, Rocky." She felt into her coat's pocket. "Shit…I forgot my wallet in the apartment…Mind if I run back and get it? I'll put the milk back."
"Be my guest," Rocky's gray withered gaze turned to her left behind her, "…Can I help you?"
"Two milks," the man with the rough voice said and placed down a spill of dollars and coins on the countertop between Kina's jug and the cash register. He glanced at the milk in his hand hanging at his side and hers on the counter. Rocky keyed into the cash register and took the payment.
"Two jugs, and here's your change."
"I don't need it." He walked by and went out the door. Kina however fisted the change, nodded to Rocky and hurried after the man.
"Wait, I don't take donations. I have the money and I'll pay you back if you can wait a second. It would be better for my conscience."
He stopped in a steady fall of snow just starting to freckle the shoulders of his black coat under the glow of a freon light post and Rocky's sign out front. He didn't say anything, but he didn't look like he wanted to wait either.
"I live just across the street. I won't be more than a minute."
"I'm heading that way." He had followed her arm's arrow to the apartment building.
"Perfect. It's fate." She smiled and walked over to him.
"Konis."
"Kina."
Their paths led them both to the same apartment building and they stood outside the door on the step leading to the threshold.
"Where did you move from?"
She unlocked the outer door and he held it open for her to enter. The foyer was warmer than outside, but only slightly, and she kept her coat on as she stepped in with him following after, shutting the door firmly so that it clicked into its place.
"Not from a place this cold." He grinned—a polite grin and one she immediately felt an affection for. It wasn't her color, or her skin, or anything she was used to, but it was undoubtedly a kind grin and it lightened the unimpressionable face. He didn't choose to say more, so she took that as his answer and went through the second door, this time holding it for him and he walked through. The stairs were ahead and they started to climb, Kina beside him as the steps were wide enough for three people and furniture to be moved in and out by the residents.
"I'm from Knight's Sector over on Galloway. I just moved here maybe a year ago. Rocky knows me as a regular. I could have left the milk and come back here in a split, but thank you for your samaritanship."
"I had the spare to spend and it was no hassle."
"Yeah, still, I feel weird when people pay for me…things I need, I mean." She looked to the top of the stair as they climbed upwards, the wood heavy-bearing of her footsteps alone. "Even if it's for a gallon of milk…Kind of a coincidence you were there for milk, too."
"Nothing is coincidence."
She twinged her eyebrows as he said that and she stepped up onto the hallway floor leading to her apartment. He didn't turn the banister and continue up, but followed her down the hallway, his footsteps light despite his bulk.
And slowing.
"You're on this floor?" asked the man and she was still walking heavily down the hallway. She turned a look over her shoulder and nodded, brown hair hanging free from ear as she walked and tucked it back before looking forward.
"I'm unit three. I'll go in and grab that change if you don't mind waiting."
He kept walking, however, as she brought out her key and unlocked the door to the place. Glancing down the hall at his slow approach, she went inside her apartment.
The wallet—a beaten billfold—was on the entry table and she passed it on her right as she went farther in, door closing behind her.
Swinging the fridge open in the kitchen, she swung the milk gallon up into its cold confines and shut the door, glad to not have to be holding the cold handle of milk anymore.
Now she was warming up and took off her coat, dropping it onto its hook on the wall projecting as divider between kitchen and entry point.
Picking up the billfold, she opened the interior flaps of leather and pulled out a five and two ones.
I don't have enough to pay him in ones, and I would need to split the five, which would be dumb…She pressed down on the ball of her foot to reach her eye up to the doorglass and look out the hole into the hallway.
He was out there, waiting, looking a tad uncertain yet calm.
What did they say his species was called? Must be something like dell or rell…She opened the door, faced with him.
"I only have a five…Keep it and consider it paying forward or something." She held out the crumpled bill, and he stood there regarding her in her doorway. "Take it."
"A matter of conscience," he opened his hand not holding a gallon of milk in the crook of his arm and she passed the five-spot into his palm.
Having contact with another species' skin or fur was always a unique experience. Sometimes it felt like a transgression she felt the need to apologize quickly for. Sometimes it felt like a bonding experience, as though for a brief moment in time two worlds opened up and one said to the other, "I trust you enough to step through here, and thank you for trusting me." In that moment of touch, she felt the yield of his skin, the smooth granular texture of something hot and alive underneath, not some reptilian stereotype with yet eyes set apart like hers over her nose, hairless brow ridges, green skin with blue scale and blushings across the wider plates making his face and scalp up.
"What do you do for work if you don't mind my ask?"
"I wait."
Odd answer…She looked from the side at him.
"You get paid to wait tables? Must be hard to afford rent here on tips and that sort of wage—" she could see by the gentle shake of his head that she was off. "Wait…is it a special word in your language I just guffed up?"
"No. Waiting around for calls and such. I freelance, but it's mostly waiting until I'm needed."
"What do you do to pay the bills here? I've got the Sup' calling me once a month to remind me I'm late and I hustle my ass to get paid where I work."
"I'm paid from job to job. I live simply, and my earnings satisfy my needs."
She gave a nod of her head, "…Sounds like you're paid well."
He did not make any expression at this assumption she made, but studied her by the movement of his eyes over her face. She waited for him to finish as his body seemed to stretch a little taller and he leaned away.
"I should go to my apartment before my milk spoils in the heat."
"It's hot in here."
"My body temperature is slightly elevated above humans'. I could spoil this by holding it here in front of you for three hours."
"Are you a botulism expert?"
"No," his grin eased onto his face, "…I'm across the hall. I leave you to your night."
"It was nice meeting you, Konis. Thanks for the milk, even though I paid you back with some interest."
"I owe you."
She waved it off, folding her wrist behind her back and poking out her hip, "…It's just a few pennies, dimes really, and it's bonus for the—like I said, pay it forward, or towards the Good Neighbor Fund."
"Good neighbor fund..." he took a casual step back as he slowly pivoted on the ball of his foot and turned to go down the hall to the next doorway passed hers and across the wooden boards covered by red carpet. He pulled out one key from his long coat and fit it inside the lock, turned, and stepped in with the swing of the door. The door closed and finally did Kina step inside her apartment and shut her own.
Chapter 5
"Man," she leaned on the door as she entered unit 3 and stepped passed the threshold, dropping her sports packs on the floor. Her body hurt, but she felt gold and the taste of rust in her mouth reminded her she needed to ice. She checked the digital readout under the cabinet in the kitchen. Nine o'clock. The lights were off and the glow from the lamp post outside was not enough to see by, but cast an eerie quality to the side of the room containing her chairs and lounging furniture. Soft flurries could be seen outside the window however between the night and the street light.
She shut the door and went to find the light switch between the opposite dividing wall from the kitchen, guided by what little light came in through the window for her sense of orientation, but as she passed through the middle of the room, she felt the hairs on her neck stiffen. There was someone else in there with her.
Hand outstretched, she flicked on the switch and turned about, searching the small space, her gaze settling on the intruder taking up residence in one of the brown chairs at the corner facing the doorway and kitchen entrance.
"Kin, I heard you won tonight in eight rounds," the man's voice she recognized, "…Elle got you to stand for a few punches, too."
"Randal," she crossed her arms, her coat covering her tank bra, "…how did you get into my apartment."
He stood from the fabric chair and sauntered over to her, hanging an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her cheeks with his other hand as he set his weight against her deliberately, Kina having to press back to keep him from bending her downwards to the floor, "…I have the key to wherever I want to be, Kin…You know that…Listen, I'm coming on behalf of Tommy…He wants you to fold in the next bout with Elle, capiche?" He let go of her cheeks, letting her test her mouth and swallow more blood that had beaded from the cut inside her cheek. "You and Elle attract a good crowd—lots of bets and no one thought you'd win tonight save a few who cashed out looking well at your odds…We made a cut, but since you and Elle put up such an entertaining example of what the femme fatale can do out there in the box, we're going to rig the next one and up the ante as well as take cards after the fifth round…but you gotta make it look good and bloody. Put up until ten and then let Elle beat you, hear?"
"What?" She popped out from under his arm, letting him lose his balance and walking away to make space between them. "I'm not taking the drop. I don't train with you, and I don't pay you or Thomson anymore than the registration fee."
"You want to keep fighting and paying for your training space, this shithole, your nutrition, your medical bills," he crossed the floor, hand up, palms up, shoulders shrugging to his ears, "…you're going to need to crossover to Tommy, Sweetcheeks." He stood in front of her, watching her move sideways towards the window and he picked up a book off the couch. "You don't want to play with us, we can make you."
"How? I'm one of the top challengers at Wrinkle's."
"We can pressure folks, Kin. Make it harder for you to place with matches, and the desirable match-ups. You'll end up broke and Wrinkle's won't let you train there anymore. But you're an asset—should be, and we don't want you to stop 'cause you got appeal for the crowds and people like spending money on you now they've seen your runt matches and you took out Elle while absorbing a few beatings from her. And everyone knows Elle's brutal on pretty girls like yourself. Some type of jealousy complex, issues, whatever, but let me go on…"
"I'd rather you leave before I throw you out." She pointed to the door. "And you can tell Thomson my answer's No. He doesn't own me like that."
"Yeah?" Randal's face had a smile and a conjecture in his brow, "…Wrinkle's not covering you, or the insurance you'll need, Kin—because you're going to need it if I have to beat the sense into you. You know men have twenty percent more muscle mass than women?"
The glass of the window cried out and spilled over the stool and sill as the book went through the wide frame.
He rushed her with the surprise from the sudden violence. Grabbing her coat and dragging her towards the jagged outline of glass, he locked her head in his arms and straddled her under him as her own arms thrust out to the window stool, Kina knocking shards aside with her fingers. Randal tried to muscle her face-first onto the ridge of crystal sharp edges, she resisting and fighting as he bore down.
Just as the highest peak of glass came to within an inch of greeting her cheek, the door to the apartment sounded with three polite knocks.
Randal paused, holding her still from moving away from the window, cold air cooling their skins and sucking into Kina's nostrils as she maintained a delicate balance between holding herself off the glass against Randal's strength. "They'll go away," he started to exert his full effort again on forcing her downward.
But again the door sounded with three more knocks, and this time louder.
Jerking her back and off her knees, he hugged her to his body and hissed in her ear, "…Get the door and tell'em to get lost."
He pushed her away from him and Kina went to the door, regaining her composure. Rising to the ball of her foot, she looked through the doorglass to see who was outside knocking.
Konis was there, coat on his shoulders, face level with the lens, and he wasn't leaving.
Wiping her face and mouth, licking back the blood that had gushed from the cut inside her cheek and swallowing the rusty flavor, Kina unlocked the door but kept one hand at her shoulder level to prevent it from being opened by Konis. He was a big drell, but she didn't want to endanger him to Randal's foul temper. Her other hand held and turned the door knob while she blocked the view into the room and only let an inch of her width be seen from the top of her head to the shoe she blocked the bottom of the door with. Konis tilted his eyes at her, blue irises dropping down and rising back up to her face. Aqua-green folds around his throat and jaw frilled outwards a little, and his nostrils flared as he breathed in.
He could see her dark skin had paled and her hair was pulled back tight from her temple in a braid, slightly disheveled with strands out of place on the top of her head. Her skin was puffed and her eyebrow flesh pronounced with swelling. She'd had a beating, but she was standing, and only letting him see what she allowed.
"I heard glass breaking. You do not look well. Is something wrong and do you need help?"
"Everything's good. My window broke."
"Do you need help fixing it?"
"No."
"Are you…okay?"
"I'm great."
She blinked and looked down, closing the door slow with both hands and locking it.
Standing alone in the hall, Konis looked right to unit 1 where the door had just opened and an elderly, near-sighted woman peered out from her wide doorway at him, shook her bunned head, closed it and left him to turn on his own and head back to his door at unit 2…but outside he stopped with his hand on the knob and waited.
There was no movement heard again inside unit 3. Seconds turned into minutes, and still Konis waited.
The lock caught and sounded from Kina's door. Konis turned as a man in a thick leather jacket, the kind that was sized too wide to make him look bigger than he was tall, came from unit 3.
"Don't forget," the man pointed to something behind the door and backed out with the knob in his hand.
As Randal pulled the door closed, he looked behind and then turned to look down both halls before leaving for the exit. Not seeing anyone, he glanced behind again before taking the stairs and exiting through the first and then second door to the street.
He entered a Ford sedan and put the car into gear after starting the engine and driving off towards the outskirts of the city.
§
Kina had just sat down to stare at the damaged window when she heard the knock at her door for the seventh time that night.
By this time, she recognized Konis's knock and immediately unlocked the door, opening it.
"Your companion's handiwork?" He was looking at her face and the swelling, then down to her hands and the rest of her attire.
"That was Randal Hebin, and he's not a companion, nor do I go out of my way to socialize with him."
"How do you know him?"
"We run in the same circles."
"Work or recreational?"
"Man, the whole 9-oh, huh," she let him come in and closed the door. He surveyed the room and his eyes stopped on the broken window. "Work, though some would argue it's a recreational thing."
"What do you do for work that would make you have to come up against someone like Randal Hebin."
"I scrap over at Wrinkle's on Sussex, by the old dump near the edge of town. Lifestyle's short-term, nonglamorous, but it's a hustle and I'm good. I make money and can live…For how long is the controversial part right now."
It's the first time she sees him frown.
"Among my species, Drell women can achieve incomes from organized fighting competitions. It is common, accepted, though I do not support it."
"I've heard the opinions from my own species, please spare me the lecture, Konis."
"Did Randal hit you?"
"No. I got back from a contest tonight. I won by the way. She was tough. Cut my mouth and bruised me up but I'm going to take an ice bath after I clean this." She turned her head and nodded to the window, the mess on the floor. "Sup's going to be pissed if I don't cover it with plastic or something."
"Why was this man here and why did he break the glass."
She raised an eyebrow at him, which creased the top of her brow there was so much swelling between her fight with Elle and then Randal's abuse.
"Nothing to get yourself involved with, but he and his boss want me to take a fall, rig the next match I'm in with this same lady named Elle."
"If she gave you that face," Konis provided some help cleaning the spread of glass off the floor, "…she does not merit the title of 'lady' in your language…Neither do you."
"My feelings…" she pointed to her eyes.
"I believe your tear ducts would not be suitable for crying 'the river' you propose with that edema."
"The stoic one presents he has a sense of humor." She smiled—it looked as though two apples were pushing out from her cheekbones.
"You need to remedy that situation soon," he circled her face with his hand from where he knelt. "I hope for Randal's sake his visit was singular."
"If he does try and come back," she bent and reached out the window to get her book and whatever glass was on the fire escape, "…I'll be expecting him."
"As will I."
"You going to wait outside my door and watch for Randal or his buddies?"
"I do not approve of men mishandling women. I approve less of women who fight for money among cages and bettors."
"If this is some sexist bullshit," she stood up, tossing the book onto the couch from where it came after wiping snow and slush off its covers, "…I don't need it as much as I need those pots I win and those bettors filling the pots with their money."
"You look nicer when your mouth is not bleeding and your face not ballooning like an inflatable."
She rolled her eyes—these could barely be seen but for the flick of whites run though with red veins and capillaries.
"Women are mothers and fighters when they must be, not for the joy of competition or others' entertainment. It is sinful to treat something so unique and invaluable to the world with senseless abuse, violence, and apathy. Women should be worshipped, not put into rings and treated like circus animals. I have told you I wait for projects to be called in for my care and management. I will add that if Randal Hebin or his associates return to harass you, by all means contact me."
"Thanks, but I can handle myself."
Konis handed her a card. "My contact number is on it."
"I barely know you. Keep your card. It wouldn't be neighborly of me to mix you up with these types of people…like Randal."
"You were not born for this life." He held the card out until she took it. "And I would be a poor neighbor to let what has happened here tonight continue when I am of the power to stop it. I will not tolerate his presence here in the future if he cannot keep his hands off you and leave your home in its peace."
"You don't know who these people are."
"I know them better than they know themselves." He released the card into her fingers. "As for what you can do to decrease such incidents as tonight's and the effects left on your body, leave this recreational aptitude of yours behind and find something else you can put your mind and body to use with. The career you have chosen is not a peaceful one. It is not sustainable as a way of living."
Konis glanced at her standing there in front of her window, breasts tightly held by the encompassing wrap of her snug top and her sweatpants hiked up over her navel, a Lions-branded coat still holding to her shoulders. He nodded to her and closed his mouth from saying anything more. She went to the door and closed it after she saw him enter his unit across the hall.
Opening the entry table's drawer, she dropped his card inside and closed it.
Returning to the window, she looked outside at the lightly snow-covered bootprints that had climbed up the fire escape. It was raised of its stepladder from the ground, but Randal could reach it if he jumped and with his height helping him to make the grab, could pull himself up. She checked the damage to the wooden frame by the lock latch and sighed as it didn't matter. The glass could just be broken again, and she didn't think bars would hold Randal and Tommy's thugs out. She decided to go to Rocky's, find a tarp and duct tape in addition to the bags of ice she needed to carry over—which had been her intention when she arrived home to drop off her sports bags, but then Randal had interrupted her plans.
