Chapter 7 – Are girls still the same species?

Riddick for once felt surprisingly vulnerable in the large and crowded shopping centre. It was an alternative centre holding more interesting and valuable collections than the chain stores in the rest of the place. There was a sense of rebellion in the air, in such a strongly religious planet there was little room for gothic culture and steam punk value. And yet even here on New Mecca they survived, boys in back suits with bright eccentric hairstyles hovered protectively around girls that looked fatigued and smeared in dark make ups. Spikes and symbolic attire were common in the shop, both for purchase and adorned on its customers, it was clear that whilst the names and the faces changed youthful resistance had not.

How am I supposed to know what Jack would like? This is ridiculous; I should just leave right now.

But he knew his request would come easier if he introduced himself bearing a gift. He had no idea how Jack would react, after all she had built a life for herself here, something he had not anticipated.

After an hour of searching around the various stalls Riddick came across something that brought the image of Jack so strongly to his mind that it made him falter in his stride, if only momentarily. It was a shiv, beautifully carved ivory blending softly into the metal blade. It gleamed unnaturally, the intricate patterns that flowed along its surface caught the light so that it danced and shimmered along the surface of the weapon. Longer that most, it was obvious that it was more for decoration that combat yet still it was sharp and appeared well balanced.

The man at the counter raised his eyes at Riddick's approach,

"Yes sir, how may I help you?"

"You can get me that shiv there," he pointed to ornate blade.

"Ah, I am obligated to warn you that this item is dangerous and that New Mecca has a strict policy on violence. Are you sure you sure you wish to purchase this item? It is quite rare so the price may not be to your liking."

"Try me." Riddick had little patience for bartering and the man was beginning to irritate him, he felt his palms itch to hold his own shiv, to gently slide it across the man's neck and tell him to beg, to haggle for his life.

Apparently the man could see some danger in his customer. "You look like the kind of guy I can trust; I'll give you a special price.

Several minutes later Riddick left the shop, the shiv wrapped in a exotic box that also contained a double strapped holder and the twin shiv, which the man had been nice enough to throw in for free. As he entered the main street Riddick made sure to wipe the blood stains on his hands off on his dark shirt. Bargaining was easy.