Understood

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Chapter 27

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"Open for me," the brown minibot said, tapping at Tailgate's chestplates.

"What?"

"Open for me. I want to touch sparks."

Tailgate made a choking noise. "I don't. I don't do that."

The minibot looked at him with a strange expression. "What do you mean 'you don't'? All the street mechs down here in Overdock do."

Tailgate began to wonder if somehow he'd been missing something he was supposed to be offering clients. But no. That couldn't be right. Who would make themselves so vulnerable? "It's too personal. Too dangerous."

"It's not dangerous," the client protested. "Not between minibots it isn't. Who told you that it was dangerous? C'mon, open up. It'll feel so good."

"No," Tailgate said firmly. "You can have my valve. You can have my spike. You can have my mouth. But not that."

"I've had all them, and it's time for more," asked the brown minibot with a tone of incredulousness. "What? Are you being a little prude? Let's merge."

"No I'm not being a prude. I just don't touch sparks."

The client groaned. "I can't believe this. Well how much do I have to pay you to change your mind? Hmm? What will it take to get you to open up for me?"

Tailgate huffed, finding himself growing annoyed. "Stop asking. I'm not going to." He'd not even shared with Swerve, the mech he trusted most.

"Another three hundred credits? Hmmm? That's a nice add-on, isn't it?"

"No." Tailgate started to extract himself from beneath the brown minibot. "I'm not that way."

"Why not? What's your problem? All the others do it, and I don't even have to pay them extra."

Tailgate had never heard of any of the other prostitutes selling their sparks, except for the black-ice junkies. And they weren't even real prostitutes. They were the lost ones who had nothing to live for but their next hit. Most worked without a license and were trouble waiting to happen. He managed to get out of the bed and grabbed out his towel to wipe himself off with quickly.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing. Get back on the berth."

"I'm leaving. If you can't respect my boundaries, I'm not going to service you," Tailgate replied.

"You can't leave. My time's not up yet."

"I'm not going to touch sparks, and you won't drop it, so I'm going."

"What? Because of that?"

"Yes."

Tailgate tucked away his towel and went for the door, but as he reached for the keypad to unlock it the other mech jumped out of the bed and grabbed him. "Now get back on the berth and open up for me. I paid good money for you and I will get what I want," he demanded, twisting Tailgate's arm uncomfortably.

Tailgate's annoyance suddenly turned to fear. "Leave me alone!" he cried.

"Give me your spark. I want it."

Tailgate reached for the door again but the other minibot pulled him away and shoved him onto the berth. "Let me go! Leave me alone!" he cried as the mech leaned over him, pinning his arms down.

"Open for me, you stupid little slut." The brown mech began fumbling for the manual catches that would release Tailgate's outer plating.

"Stop that!" Tailgate whined, struggling against the client. He now knew he had to get away and get away fast.

"Lie still, you whore! I'm not letting you out of here until I get what I want!"

And despite Tailgate's struggling and swatting the mech managed to open one side of his chest. Tailgate screamed and flailed and kicked, managing to fall off the berth and slam his chest closed again, but there was something caught in it and the catches wouldn't catch properly.

Someone in the room next door pounded on the wall. "Quiet down in there!"

"Help! Someone help me!" Tailgate shouted.

"Shut up! Take care of your own problems!" came the voice in angry response.

Tailgate was now fighting to keep his chest closed while his attacker fought to open it. Scared and knowing no help would be forthcoming, he somehow managed to deliver a sharp blow to the other mech's head, bashing the base of an antenna.

The mech screeched and the neighbor pounded again on the wall and somehow Tailgate was able to get to his feet and out the door. He ran for the stairwell, not risking what might be a wait for the elevator.

Behind him the brown minibot had found his balance and had staggered into the hallway. "Get back here, you dirty whore! I'm not done with your miserable aft yet! And you'll pay for punching me!" He ran for the top of the stairwell and continued to holler abuse and threats and insults at Tailgate.

Tailgate burst from the Overdock Lodger and in a panic ran across the street and between the payday revelers, ducking into an alley after passing through a larger crowd. Hiding in a dark doorway, he clutched at his rattling chestplate and tried to calm himself. He wanted to go home, back to the new apartment with the view, to stand on the balcony and sip energon wine and enjoy a fantasy that the downside of his life couldn't harm him. A fantasy that everything was going to be all right eventually.

But he couldn't.

It was the first day of payday. He couldn't give up now. He already had eighteen-fifty in his pocket and the night was still young. He tried to talk himself into a false security—that he'd not see the brown minibot again. And that was fairly likely. If he stuck to the busier areas. If he kept away from the Lodger. If he only took mechs he knew to be safe.

It had to be that way. He had to take risks. He couldn't go about acting like one of the spoiled denizens of a Kaon Riverside pleasure palace. He had to be brave and face the fact that things weren't the best, and that nothing would ever be as good as his life at the academy in Pescus Hex had been.

Tailgate cycled the cool night air through his systems a few times, got his chest closed properly, wiped off his face, put on a smile, and stepped out onto the sidewalk again.

"Tailgate!" was the immediate cry. He turned with a startled gasp, every strut tense, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he saw Gamma walking up to him. "Hey! What are you doing down at this end of Seventh?" she asked with a smile. "Of course I'm not usually around here either."

"Hiding from a rough client. Stay away from brown minibots tonight."

Her happy expression fell. "Oh Tailgate, are you okay?" Her optics dipped to search for damage to his frame.

"I managed to get out of there before he hurt me."

"Oh Tailgate. What happened? No wait. Don't tell me yet. Let's go have some high-grade first." She tugged off her black wires and then his before pulling him into the closest tavern and to back area of the bar. The two hopped up onto the barstools and the bartender had a drink menu in front of them faster than a racer on his final lap.

Less than two kliks later Gamma and Tailgate were sipping River Green and holding hands while Tailgate told her what had happened. "At least you escaped, and we know who to watch out for. Would you like to go back to our apartment and rest?" she asked.

"I can't. I've got to make rent."

Gamma smiled. "Then hang with me. We'll keep together as much as possible tonight. Give some good deals for hiring the both of us."

Tailgate smiled back at the femme. "Thank you."

"Anytime, cutie."

"Sure thing, sweetie," he laughed back weakly, drawing courage from her. And together they headed back out to Seventh Cycle Street.

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"Understood" continues in Chapter 28

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