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Endgame
Chapter 5
Spike lurched into the back of The Barracuda, Julia's ship from her time in the Komodo syndicate. Vicious smirked at the green tinge to his face.
"Couldn't take it, hmmm?" he asked slyly, walking an old Earth coin from finger to finger down his hand.
"Neither could you," Spike put in defensively. "I mean it's fine when you're not watching the meteors she's aiming for whizzing past you a half- second from impact. Women drivers."
"From what I hear, they're a lot worse than this. You couldn't pilot a ship this fast."
"Sure I could," Spike argued, flipping a smoke to his lip.
Vicious pocketed the coin. "Give me one."
Spike scowled in annoyance, then threw a cigarette over to Vicious, who caught it neatly between his smoking fingers, then produced a lighter, and, with a fancy turn of his fingers, lit the cigarette and made the lighter disappear. Then he relaxed into his normal state of zen staticity. Spike rested his head in his upturned arms, smoking like a train.
Julia appeared in the door Spike had just come through.
"This is too much!" Spike shouted. "Crazy driving, fine, but at least pilot the ship, Julia!"
"I was just coming back to say we've docked at Jupiter," she replied with her usual near-bored calmness.
"What about the asteroid belt?" Spike asked.
She gave an offhand wave with her hand. "Slim pickings. Time to grab your bikes, boys. We're in for a bumpy ride. I've already programmed the location into your boards."
The two partners rose and eyed each other. "I think she wants to race us," Vicious said."
Julia smiled at him, and then wordlessly disappeared to the hangar.
Julia got to the sleeper factory first, but she was neck in neck with Spike and Vicious most of the time, and Vicious did pass her a few times before it became apparent to him that it was dangerous to do so. Julia had a habit of bumping tires with anyone that got ahead of her, which always unnerved the victim more than the perpetrator.
They had already studied the layout of the factory and decided the informatics locus would be in the northwest corner of the building. They stood on the perimeter while Spike prepared his tools. Julia was standing in her catsuit, eyes shielded against the sun, examining the perimeter. Spike noticed Vicious stealing covert glances at her. He nodded towards them when he was prepped. Spike got them past the locks and the security, more noisily than was necessary, but effectively. Vicious took care of the more out of hand guards, and Julia didn't have any left to bother with. When they got to the informatics locus Julia took charge. Within moments the necessary information was on the screen. It was too easy to access, having been programmed in by Delaware's less than crack hacking squad. She looked uneasily at Spike, who just nodded. The sale of three hundred and twelve of the heat-seeking rifles whose bullets fit the description was attributed to the Illuminati, whose address, as Julia and Spike already knew, was on an old bomb shelter on Earth. Spike gave a convincing surprised growl at the information.
"Nothing good comes from earth," he said.
"It's a hell of a hide-out, what with the meteors," Vicious pointed out. Julia smiled at the easy sell. She holographically recorded the information and they were out faster than they had been in.
They took the Barracuda back to Vicious's luxury ship, the Narwhal, which Vicious had remote navigated from Mars. Spike tried to argue Julia into letting him pilot the ship most of the way back, but Julia refused. Vicious looked on with a bemused, if somewhat weary eye. He was glad Julia was the one at the controls, since it meant they would be at the Narwhal faster.
Once they'd docked , Spike immediately headed for the bathroom. Vicious noted the half-hidden smile on Julia's normally expressionless face.
"You give him a hard time on purpose, don't you?" he asked her. She turned to him, half-lidded blue eyes meeting his gold ones. She didn't respond, but the smile managed to hide itself back into her game face. They looked at each other for an uncomfortably long time, like their shared stare was a challenge neither wanted to lose. It was broken by Spike striding between them.
"I need dinner," he muttered as he strode past them into the kitchen.
"Guess he needs to replace the contents he just threw up," Julia suggested with a note of amusement in her voice.
Vicious gave her a knowing smile. "Care for any food yourself?"
"Sure," she replied, and together they followed Spike's path to the kitchen. Julia stifled a gasp when she saw it. The entire thing was tiled in spotless pearl white, and the spice rack alone took up half a wall. There were mechanical servants darting to and fro. Spike was currently engaged in a battle with one for a wok. She realized that even the Syndicate didn't provide the kind of wealth displayed here, and wondered how Vicious had become so wealthy.
"What do you feel like eating?" he asked her.
"What do you have?" she asked.
"Every food group," he replied.
"Fish, then I guess. Surprise me."
He nodded, then bent over a control panel. The mechanical servants started to whiz around, banging open cabinets and refrigerators, of which Vicious had three. The servant Spike was fighting abandoned him, and he triumphantly held up the wok. Vicious turned to Julia.
"It should be ready within twenty minutes. I'm just going to go to the navigation room to program the coordinates for Earth." She nodded, and he left the room. He seemed to float when he walked. His head was always at the same level, never displaced by his steps.
Julia turned to Spike, who was grabbing ingredients from around the room as if he knew it from top to bottom. She placed her elbows on a nearby countertop and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. "How long have you been partners with him?"
"Three years," said Spike, slicing up bits of vegetables and throwing them into the wok..
"And you're friends?"
His back was turned to her, so she couldn't see the expression on his face. It was a moment before he said, in an odd voice, "Best friends."
Julia wasn't sure how to react. Even in the Komodo syndicate, she wasn't close to one of the people there, having decided they were all murderers, even those who were in the same position she had been put in. She had liked Kyt's father. "But what about when-"
"Not here," Spike cut her off. "Not anywhere. I can't do my job if I let myself think that way." He started to fry his food, expertly dodging the servants around him. He tossed the food up in his wok, then turned to her, placing one hand in his pocket. "Truth is, I would have ended up in the Syndicate if Delaware hadn't given me a job. Hell, I'm as good as a Syndicate man. I murder the same people." Turning back, he muttered, "So do you."
The barb cut. Julia didn't ever think about the killing much. Her aversion to it had been programmed out of her in her early days with Komodo. Funny how it became something like an addiction. She had come back to the Syndicate ways of her own volition. Still, searching for it, she couldn't find any guilt. It was the barb that cut, not the truth behind it. She glared at Spike's back before turning to leave the kitchen.
She began to wander the halls of the ship, making a map in her head with the entrance and the kitchen as the center of it. The halls were all claustrophobic tunnels made of cool metal, occasionally lined with doors. None of them would open, so she guessed the rooms' measurements by the angles of the turns within the halls. At the end of one hall was a window, past which the stars whizzed by. She walked towards it until it opened into a large deck. There were plants everywhere, exotic, poisonous-looking breeds she didn't recognize. The floor was carpeted thickly enough for her to feel her feet sink down half-an-inch or so. There were huge, blood-red pillows strewn around. Overall, the deck gave the impression of being an intensely comfortable trap.
"You should be careful, wandering around like that," Vicious said behind her, sending bone-cold fingers down her back. She turned to him. He looked at her impassively, something hidden in his eyes that she couldn't make out. "You might get lost."
"Vicious," she said. His lips quirked at his name. She turned back to the window. "I never get lost. How did you find me, anyway?"
"I didn't. I was coming here myself."
"Everything is red and green," she said, almost to herself. "The color of death and life."
"That's all there is, in the end, isn't it?" He said, and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, and she closed her eyes at the sensation. "We should go." She turned, nearly brushing against him as she did so, he was so close. His mouth opened, and he stepped back. A flicker of some emotion crossed his eyes- fear? "Dinner's ready."
Endgame
Chapter 5
Spike lurched into the back of The Barracuda, Julia's ship from her time in the Komodo syndicate. Vicious smirked at the green tinge to his face.
"Couldn't take it, hmmm?" he asked slyly, walking an old Earth coin from finger to finger down his hand.
"Neither could you," Spike put in defensively. "I mean it's fine when you're not watching the meteors she's aiming for whizzing past you a half- second from impact. Women drivers."
"From what I hear, they're a lot worse than this. You couldn't pilot a ship this fast."
"Sure I could," Spike argued, flipping a smoke to his lip.
Vicious pocketed the coin. "Give me one."
Spike scowled in annoyance, then threw a cigarette over to Vicious, who caught it neatly between his smoking fingers, then produced a lighter, and, with a fancy turn of his fingers, lit the cigarette and made the lighter disappear. Then he relaxed into his normal state of zen staticity. Spike rested his head in his upturned arms, smoking like a train.
Julia appeared in the door Spike had just come through.
"This is too much!" Spike shouted. "Crazy driving, fine, but at least pilot the ship, Julia!"
"I was just coming back to say we've docked at Jupiter," she replied with her usual near-bored calmness.
"What about the asteroid belt?" Spike asked.
She gave an offhand wave with her hand. "Slim pickings. Time to grab your bikes, boys. We're in for a bumpy ride. I've already programmed the location into your boards."
The two partners rose and eyed each other. "I think she wants to race us," Vicious said."
Julia smiled at him, and then wordlessly disappeared to the hangar.
Julia got to the sleeper factory first, but she was neck in neck with Spike and Vicious most of the time, and Vicious did pass her a few times before it became apparent to him that it was dangerous to do so. Julia had a habit of bumping tires with anyone that got ahead of her, which always unnerved the victim more than the perpetrator.
They had already studied the layout of the factory and decided the informatics locus would be in the northwest corner of the building. They stood on the perimeter while Spike prepared his tools. Julia was standing in her catsuit, eyes shielded against the sun, examining the perimeter. Spike noticed Vicious stealing covert glances at her. He nodded towards them when he was prepped. Spike got them past the locks and the security, more noisily than was necessary, but effectively. Vicious took care of the more out of hand guards, and Julia didn't have any left to bother with. When they got to the informatics locus Julia took charge. Within moments the necessary information was on the screen. It was too easy to access, having been programmed in by Delaware's less than crack hacking squad. She looked uneasily at Spike, who just nodded. The sale of three hundred and twelve of the heat-seeking rifles whose bullets fit the description was attributed to the Illuminati, whose address, as Julia and Spike already knew, was on an old bomb shelter on Earth. Spike gave a convincing surprised growl at the information.
"Nothing good comes from earth," he said.
"It's a hell of a hide-out, what with the meteors," Vicious pointed out. Julia smiled at the easy sell. She holographically recorded the information and they were out faster than they had been in.
They took the Barracuda back to Vicious's luxury ship, the Narwhal, which Vicious had remote navigated from Mars. Spike tried to argue Julia into letting him pilot the ship most of the way back, but Julia refused. Vicious looked on with a bemused, if somewhat weary eye. He was glad Julia was the one at the controls, since it meant they would be at the Narwhal faster.
Once they'd docked , Spike immediately headed for the bathroom. Vicious noted the half-hidden smile on Julia's normally expressionless face.
"You give him a hard time on purpose, don't you?" he asked her. She turned to him, half-lidded blue eyes meeting his gold ones. She didn't respond, but the smile managed to hide itself back into her game face. They looked at each other for an uncomfortably long time, like their shared stare was a challenge neither wanted to lose. It was broken by Spike striding between them.
"I need dinner," he muttered as he strode past them into the kitchen.
"Guess he needs to replace the contents he just threw up," Julia suggested with a note of amusement in her voice.
Vicious gave her a knowing smile. "Care for any food yourself?"
"Sure," she replied, and together they followed Spike's path to the kitchen. Julia stifled a gasp when she saw it. The entire thing was tiled in spotless pearl white, and the spice rack alone took up half a wall. There were mechanical servants darting to and fro. Spike was currently engaged in a battle with one for a wok. She realized that even the Syndicate didn't provide the kind of wealth displayed here, and wondered how Vicious had become so wealthy.
"What do you feel like eating?" he asked her.
"What do you have?" she asked.
"Every food group," he replied.
"Fish, then I guess. Surprise me."
He nodded, then bent over a control panel. The mechanical servants started to whiz around, banging open cabinets and refrigerators, of which Vicious had three. The servant Spike was fighting abandoned him, and he triumphantly held up the wok. Vicious turned to Julia.
"It should be ready within twenty minutes. I'm just going to go to the navigation room to program the coordinates for Earth." She nodded, and he left the room. He seemed to float when he walked. His head was always at the same level, never displaced by his steps.
Julia turned to Spike, who was grabbing ingredients from around the room as if he knew it from top to bottom. She placed her elbows on a nearby countertop and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. "How long have you been partners with him?"
"Three years," said Spike, slicing up bits of vegetables and throwing them into the wok..
"And you're friends?"
His back was turned to her, so she couldn't see the expression on his face. It was a moment before he said, in an odd voice, "Best friends."
Julia wasn't sure how to react. Even in the Komodo syndicate, she wasn't close to one of the people there, having decided they were all murderers, even those who were in the same position she had been put in. She had liked Kyt's father. "But what about when-"
"Not here," Spike cut her off. "Not anywhere. I can't do my job if I let myself think that way." He started to fry his food, expertly dodging the servants around him. He tossed the food up in his wok, then turned to her, placing one hand in his pocket. "Truth is, I would have ended up in the Syndicate if Delaware hadn't given me a job. Hell, I'm as good as a Syndicate man. I murder the same people." Turning back, he muttered, "So do you."
The barb cut. Julia didn't ever think about the killing much. Her aversion to it had been programmed out of her in her early days with Komodo. Funny how it became something like an addiction. She had come back to the Syndicate ways of her own volition. Still, searching for it, she couldn't find any guilt. It was the barb that cut, not the truth behind it. She glared at Spike's back before turning to leave the kitchen.
She began to wander the halls of the ship, making a map in her head with the entrance and the kitchen as the center of it. The halls were all claustrophobic tunnels made of cool metal, occasionally lined with doors. None of them would open, so she guessed the rooms' measurements by the angles of the turns within the halls. At the end of one hall was a window, past which the stars whizzed by. She walked towards it until it opened into a large deck. There were plants everywhere, exotic, poisonous-looking breeds she didn't recognize. The floor was carpeted thickly enough for her to feel her feet sink down half-an-inch or so. There were huge, blood-red pillows strewn around. Overall, the deck gave the impression of being an intensely comfortable trap.
"You should be careful, wandering around like that," Vicious said behind her, sending bone-cold fingers down her back. She turned to him. He looked at her impassively, something hidden in his eyes that she couldn't make out. "You might get lost."
"Vicious," she said. His lips quirked at his name. She turned back to the window. "I never get lost. How did you find me, anyway?"
"I didn't. I was coming here myself."
"Everything is red and green," she said, almost to herself. "The color of death and life."
"That's all there is, in the end, isn't it?" He said, and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, and she closed her eyes at the sensation. "We should go." She turned, nearly brushing against him as she did so, he was so close. His mouth opened, and he stepped back. A flicker of some emotion crossed his eyes- fear? "Dinner's ready."