A Faraway Fantasy

part 3

Juliet rode to the Martian desert surrounding Tews. She lowered the sailer so close to the ground that Mark saw trails of beige dirt swirl in their wake.

He thought she was going to kill him there.

She didn’t.

By the time they arrived at Mark’s hotel, he felt sober.

He wasn’t.

As soon as he got off the still humming machine, he tripped and crashed down in front of the entrance bay. Juliet parked the sailer and helped him to his room, ignoring the snobby look of the hotel receptionist, a young man in his twenties.

She laid him on the bed and took off his shoes. The room was spinning. Out of the corner of his eye, Mark spotted the time fading in and out on the television-wall: 11.30 P.M. He was about to die as he’d lived—scared, alone, and wasted.

“Would you like to make a last phone call?”

“Nay.”

Mark felt her shuffle on the bed. She got up and slipped into the bathroom. His eyes were heavy, but somehow it felt rude to fall asleep when your assassin was freshening up. He waited. He half-hoped she’d emerge naked from the bathroom. No such luck.

She switched off the lights in the room and closed the bathroom door. The time blinking on the television-wall in the background outlined her slender figure in red flashes. She sat on the bed.

“Whatcha got there?” Mark asked when the red flash glinted off a small cylinder in her hand.

“It’s almost time.” She sighed as if she wanted to empty her lungs. “I’m sorry I have to do this. I never,” she paused and searched for the appropriate word, “bonded any of my other targets. I wish I didn’t have to kill you.”

“Do you hate to?”

“I do.”

Mark let her take her time. Now there was no going back. No more having to face the regrets, stare in the mirror, live the life—it was better this way. Had to be.

“With this,” she said after another, longer sigh, pointing at the aluminum-coated cylinder, “you won’t feel a thing. You’ll just fall asleep and never wake up. No pain. Isn’t that what you were afraid of?”

“Do you want me to thank you?”

“I want you to tell me this is what you wanted.”

“It’s what I wanted.”

She didn’t speak. There was nothing left to say. She moved and Mark knew she was checking the time on the wall.

“Will you do me one final favor?” Mark asked Juliet.

She froze. “What is it?”

Mark inhaled, trying to chase Ol’ Jack’s vapors out of his mind. “You remember when I said I could never touch you?”

He heard her chest rise but no other sound followed.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want you to have sex with me,” he rushed out. Then, more calmly, he added, “Do you know why I said that?”

“After the Golem riots, some people shifted their views of us. From whores, they promoted us to saints that must never be touched. Others treat us as if we’re carriers of some horrible disease. Don’t worry. I’m used to it.”

Mark’s body convulsed with a dry chuckle; the mattress shook, and the bed creaked. “Turn on the lights,” he told her. “Come lie with me.”