3 sum, p.10
3 SUM, page 10
Still no idea.
“Are you two from another planet?” she asked.
“Out of town,” said Anais.
“What about him, he’s a guy isn’t he?”
“Shellshock.”
“Honey, I get them too, still wanting and willing to pay for Raisa.”
Eventually Anais understood, and she whispered to me.
“What did you just tell him?” asked Raisa.
“What you told me.”
“And he can’t understand me?”
“Not as much as me,” said Anais.
My Russian was a little ropy, but it would help if she slowed down. It was coming back to me but I’d preferred Chinese at school. I was a natural.
China was neutral but had long been suspected of colluding with the Undiagnosed. It wouldn’t have been all bad if they’d joined forces; forget the superior numbers, I’d have been earning a fortune at HQ.
“Are you two leaving?” asked Raisa. “You’re making me nervous.”
“Perhaps we can help each other, you did say we were bad for business,” said Anais.
“He was one of my best customers.”
“Then even more reason to accept my proposal,” said Anais.
“Sorry, honey, I only do guys. I gotta draw the line somewhere.”
“I’m not after sex, just a place to stay.”
“Look, I don’t care who you’re running from or why, just how much can you pay?”
“How much do you charge for sex?”
“Fifty credits, but, I already told you, I don’t do women.”
“And how many men do you see in a night?”
I wasn’t in on the conversation, but they seemed to be getting along.
“Usually two or three, five on a good night.”
“Let’s say I believe you. I’ll pay you five hundred to stay the night.”
“Two thousand.”
“One thousand.”
“Done.”
“But you have to stay with us, the entire time.”
“Now you’ve gone and spoiled it.”
“Deal or no deal?”
Raisa thought for a moment, “OK, but remember no sex; at least with you, he’s not bad.”
Now that I could understand, and Raisa was looking in my direction, licking her lips. Were the stories of cannibalism true?
We followed Raisa under the streetlights, and passed several dishevelled co-workers, some climbing into cars, others out. Some vehicles were sleek, others old and grubby like their owners. Whatever possessed these women? That question was soon answered by the empty syringes on the floor.
“Sorry,” said Raisa as she cleaned them up, and quickly pushed them into a box marked ‘Broken Biscuits.’
There was an overflowing bin, and used teabags on the sink, next to a sugar bowl with a dead fly on top.
Anais came closer. “We’ll take it in turns to sleep,” she said.
“I agree.”
“You’re sure there are no needles in the bed?” asked Anais.
Raisa threw the cover back, “See for yourself.”
It wasn’t hotel standard but we needed some rest, and it was a double. Raisa saw the disgust on my face at the sweat stained flannelette.
“I’ll get new sheets,” she said, and Anais sighed with relief.
They made the bed together, as I watched, smiling. You didn’t have to be a mind reader to figure out my thoughts.
Anais climbed in first. Her jeans and bomber jacket were on the back of a pine chair, chipped and stained like everything else around here. She looked a vision in her white pants and vest as she fell asleep.
“Shame you’re slow on the uptake, handsome,” said Raisa.
She was looking right at me, but I could hardly keep my eyes open. Bravely I approached the sink, rinsed out a mug, and made a coffee. I used the white powdered coffee-mate; at least, I hoped that’s what it was.
Chapter Twenty-One
I’d have been shot on the front lines for dereliction of duty and insubordination, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I was sprawled on the sofa with a cushion in my arms. The hooker hadn’t turned us in but there was a noise outside, and it wasn’t pretty.
Raisa lifted the blind gingerly. It was daybreak, and the light hit Anais’ picture perfect face. For a moment they were almost side by side, and I wondered whom I preferred? Anais with her dreamy eyes and cute nose, or Raisa the hooker with dark circles, and the downturned mouth. She had pockmarks too but eyes willing to see and do anything you wanted and could pay for. I instantly saw the attraction of complete depravity and control.
They were marching closer.
“It’s Semyon, my pimp,” said Raisa. “Hide in the wardrobe.”
I was reluctant, we were fish in a barrel ready to be shot, but Anais took my hand. I could see the other fella’s hand too, through the slats from behind the few meagre clothes; it was cut. And Semyon was waving a gun. It was surprising how quickly you picked up a name when your life depended on it.
They pinned Raisa down, and that was about as much as I could stomach. The guy with the cut hand was now on the end of my knife staggering around the room, ready to drop dead.
“He’s got a gun,” said Raisa, as Semyon smiled at me.
I was smiling too, and he couldn’t figure out why, until Colonel Anais Eve broke his neck. There was a reason they were in charge.
“Even the cops won’t cover this one up for me,” said Raisa.
“We ...,” I started, but she cut me off.
“Don’t kid a kidder, pretty boy. You two are gonna hang around and explain this for me, you being from the other side and all?”
“How long have you known?” asked Anais.
“From the beginning, we get deserters all the time. Why’d you think I kept saying no sex with you? I’ve heard the stories about women in the Femocracy, you’re an officer, right?”
Anais nodded.
“Are you going to turn us in?” she asked.
Raisa shook her head.
“Not if you help me clean up this mess.”
“Can we trust you?” I asked.
“Sure, if you can do me a favour in return,” said Raisa. “I was thinking of killing Semyon myself, you might just be bringing me some luck.”
“What’s the favour?” asked Anais.
“Nothing too difficult. We dump the bodies in no-man’s land, and then collect what Semyon owes me.”
“And where’s that?”
“His place.”
“Is it quiet?”
“Not quite. It’s in the Red Star Casino, central Moscow.”
Anais frowned.
“Of course you could always kill me, you two are good at that. But somehow I don’t think you want to hurt me.”
“You’re right,” I said. “You might come in handy.”
And when she changed into tight chequered trousers and denim jacket, with a cleavage that drew your eyes in, I didn’t care. I just wanted her around.
“You like her?” asked Anais in English.
“Are you kidding me?” I replied. “She’s not my type. Besides, I’ve only got eyes for my colonel.”
Anais smiled and kissed me on the lips, marking her territory. Only I’d had one eye on Raisa, who was smiling too.
Semyon’s Cadillac was painted violet, and had a rhino horn on the bonnet. It was nice, but perhaps a little showy. The other stiff had a saloon with enough space in the boot for two. At least they’d known each other. I threw the double glazing brochures outside into the gutter, and checked the glove compartment. There was another shooter, two rounds of ammo, and a photo of the wife and kids outside the gates of a private school.
Anais instinctively got behind the wheel. “Damn, a manual gear box”
“Is that a problem?” asked Raisa.
“I’m used to automatic.”
“Here, let me drive,” said Raisa, “besides, I know the way.”
They swapped places. I was on the back seat, and decided to get some shuteye. They were getting along just fine without me, the hooker and the colonel. I wasn’t sure if they had too much in common, or too little, but occasionally I awoke and heard them laughing. I just hoped it was about me, even the new me wasn’t averse to a little humiliation; it just had a more rousing, arousing, effect these days.
Raisa turned off the headlights as we went off road. There were a few close brushes with the trees, and some barbed wire, but no one was going to pay for a respray.
Lanterns were shining up ahead, and Raisa cut the engines.
“Dealers,” she said.
“Arms?” asked Anais.
“Drugs.”
“I’m not on Lusterone,” said Anais.
“You don’t say,” said Raisa, “and I thought Valiant was here to carry your bags.”
They both laughed.
“But don’t worry; it’s not Lusterone, in case you’re tempted.”
“Did you ever get some?” asked Anais.
“You mean when they dropped it over the lines in those pretty pink parachutes?”
“Yes.”
“Sure, I’ll try anything once.”
“And?”
“Honey, it isn’t as good as the real thing, but I guess you’ve found that out all by yourself now.”
Anais smiled broadly.
“Tell me, is he as good as he looks?”
“Better.”
“You want to share him?”
“I’ll let you know if the thought ever crosses my mind.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“You’re not his type.”
“Did he say that?”
“Yes. And why are you smiling?”
“That’s what they all say.”
The dealers drove off.
“So, what drugs are they selling?” asked Anais.
“Heroin, cocaine, crystal meth. You heard of them?”
“Only in science class.”
“You ever try?”
“Never. You?”
“You saw my place. In case you hadn’t noticed, my needles weren’t used for knitting.”
“Sorry, I forgot.”
“And you a colonel.”
“How’d you know my rank?”
“It was on the news when you were both asleep.”
“I told Valiant to stay awake.”
“Looks like he isn’t taking orders anymore. We get guys like him all the time, deserters, can’t believe their luck when they get here.”
“He’s different.”
“I noticed.”
“How?”
“The way he looks at you.”
“And you?”
“Like you said, I’m not his type.”
“And the others, the deserters?”
“Most too far gone to be interested in me, or any woman, but that’s cool. What do you call it, medicated?”
“We believe men need to be medicated for their own good, or neutered.”
“And what do they think?”
“They don’t get a choice.”
“Seems a little unfair.”
“They were destroying the planet.”
“OK, so why you got this one?”
“He’s a secret weapon.”
“Well, let me tell you, sweetheart, him and you aren’t a secret anymore. The whole of Russia is after that bounty on your heads.”
“And you?”
“Semyon has enough for me. And ...” Raisa paused, wondered if she could trust them, or trust herself.
“Go on, please,” begged Anais. Interrogation wasn’t all pain.
“If they ever caught me they’d put a bullet in my head.”
“Who?”
“Our leaders, of course, and before you ask I used to be high class and learned their secrets. Guess you could say I knew too much, I had a big mouth when drunk, you see, used to be an asset. Shame really, they had great bed linen.”
“Have you heard of Queensy Sevastopol?” asked Anais.
“The celebrity chef? Who hasn’t?”
“You know where she lives?” I asked from the back seat.
“Even better,” answered Raisa. “I got an address. She’s holed up at the Red Star Casino, owns the restaurant ‘The Tartars Sauce.”
Anais smiled broadly, and the ruling classes had perfect teeth wherever they were found.
“So are we going to bury these guys or not?” I asked.
I didn’t want to give Raisa too much info, although it was a convenient coincidence Semyon and Queensy shared the same apartments. Or was it? Perhaps the rich, like the poor, aggregated together.
“Valiant, have you been listening in to all of our conversation?” asked Anais.
“Sure,” I lied, “for what good it would do me.”
“True, but doesn’t two women having fun turn you on?”
“Now that you mention it...”
“Don’t think we’re going there, I’m just collecting data,” said Anais.
“OK you two love birds, let’s dump the refuse,” said Raisa.
“What did she say?” I asked.
My mind had ben elsewhere, though not too far away from my companions; just that we were doing something completely different, and the lights were on.
“That she hates men,” replied Anais.
Raisa opened the boot.
“I hate to state the obvious, but we forgot the shovels,” I said, standing beside her.
“I don’t think we’re burying them,” said Anais.
“We’ll torch the bodies in that old truck,” said Raisa.
When we scanned under the old abandoned ski jump, there were vehicles rusting along the shore line.
“Why so many?” asked Anais.
“Gangland hits, business rivals and partners, cheating wives and husbands. You’ll find most with a bullet hole in the head, unless their shoes and toes are missing, then you really don’t want to get too close.”
“And the killers, are they ever arrested and shot?” asked Anais.
“No one investigates. We’re fighting a war, your war, remember?”
“Not entirely mine.”
“Look, I’ve been used enough times to hate men too. I’m not saying you’re wrong, just that with a war on, people are taking a few more chances than usual, that’s all.”
“Just for the record, I don’t hate men,” said Anais.
“Then, Colonel, you need to see a few more, trust me.”
“It sounds like you two are on the wrong sides,” I said.
Both women turned around and scowled.
“Just kidding.” I was in no mood for a fight.
Raisa turned her back on us, and I stepped as close as I could to Anais. Just before she thought I was going for a kiss, I whispered in her ear, “Let’s keep the truth about Queensy between us.”
Anais nodded.
“What did he just say?” asked Raisa, turning around.
“That he only has eyes for me,” replied Anais.
“He said that, really?” asked Raisa.
“Of course.”
“Then hang onto him tight; he really is unique. Anyway, you and handsome get Semyon and follow me. I got a bad back, too many old mattresses, and older men.”
The second dead guy went in, and I lit the petrol tank. The explosion illuminated the night sky, and for a second the snow resort appeared back in action; abandoned chair lifts shining bright instead of fading away.
“Where to now?” asked Anais in the car.
I was falling back asleep on the back seat; Anais was wearing me out.
“My Aunt has a farm just outside of Moscow. You can rest. She hasn’t seen me in over a year.”
“Can we trust her?”
“She runs a black market. Besides, if anyone can get us into Moscow, past security, it’s her.”
“Raisa, you know I want to get back to the Femocracy?” said Anais.
“Yes.”
“So your money is no good to me.”
“Of course, what’s your question?”
“How much are you expecting to find in Semyon’s apartment?”
“Give or take?”
“Sure.”
“Ten million Russian credits.”
“That’s enough to buy your own casino.”
“I’ve had enough of gambling my life away. A farm would do, abroad somewhere, away from the war, with vines, wines, and handsome men at my beck and call.”
Raisa hit the road once more, and we were back on track to her Aunt’s farm.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A tractor waited patiently behind the rolling hedge. It was a good sign. I was used to that from my school days: farming machinery and land cultivation. Our education didn’t just produce pretty office boys, nothing too highbrow, you understand. Professor Cygnus had been the last of a dying breed; there were perhaps one or two like him left, old men at the top of their game, and the end of it.
Young men usually entered agriculture, administration, mining, or manufacturing. We all had one thing in common: we had been engineered, chemically castrated, and the biggest shock we all faced was seeing them for the first time on our eighteenth birthday, women, the bosses and officers of our world. It was exciting but not the kind a young man would have expected a century before, this was more curiosity and fear.
I was reliving those feelings all over again, until the beasts stopped the car, passing from one field to the next. Seeing their pets walked on a leash had nearly blown a fuse; this almost blew my mind. I tried to ignore it, but Anais holding my hand for support could sense my discomfort, she felt it too.
“Don’t worry; they don’t bite,” Raisa told us. “They’re called sheep.”
