Mana Pool Snippets - The Job

Part 3

Three hours later I was in Rizler, the financial district platform over the Irrado Sea. Try traveling with a Creosian newborn, crying the whole time, and hoping to Goddess it doesn't puke in the turbulence.

I think I've been to Rizler several times. I go there only for pleasure, but only briefly, it's too damn expensive there. Those cheating bastards charge for water. Rich or poor, that platform milks you dry.

If it's a job there, then yes, I tell them to pay more.

Walking to the location, I could feel the sun bring life to my skin and dark brown dreads for once. I was aware that my presence intimidated some folks. I had my weapons in the open but that was just because I was the only Halcunac in the city.

The meeting place was on the tallest plateau; the streets weren't clogged with hovercrafts like they had been on the lower levels. A street food vendor was a block away; my backup in case Benali did not feed me. Creosian stews wafted through the air, making my stomach groan for attention.

There was a sign over black double doors. The Starlight. Fancy.

"Just go in, hear the pitch, and move on. Don't do anything you'll regret, big guy," I muttered.

I pushed the doors and went down a short flight of stairs into a short hallway lit with actual electric bulbs. I assumed that the red-skinned, four-armed male Caducera guarding the entrance was a warrior-trained bouncer. His armor looked too tight and he had three hardwood clubs strapped to his belt. Must be some wealthy clientele inside.

He held up all four hands to stop me. "Weapons. Club policy," he said in a low and tired voice.

"I get the program," I said with a sigh. My plasma pistol went into the only locker alongside dozens of other confiscated weapons. I held onto my katana a bit longer. "If I catch a single scratch on the sheath, or give me shit you have not seen it, your hand is mine." I said as I handed it to him.

The guy—lets's call him Mr. Brute—examined the sword's braided leather handle and scabbard, without unsheathing the katana too much, he inspected the blade and the emerald vines engraved on the base. Satisfied, Brute set it by a broadsword and hammer.

"State your business," he asked.

"Meeting a potential client for a job. He said he'd be here," I answered.

He hummed under his breath. "Yes. He told me a Halcunac was coming." He paused. "Go in. But cross a line, mercenary...Halcunac. You're out. Cazu?"

"Crystal." I smiled, gave him a two-finger salute, and entered.

You've been there, Xi'Tra? I know, Brute was an ass, I could tell.

The Starlight was one ritzy place. White tablecloths, shiny silverware, pressed waiter suits on several different species, and food made for "sophisticated" pallets. Blah blipidy blah. I felt underdressed standing there. Several businesspeople of the same species (name unpronounceable) mingled amongst themselves with their universal translators turned off while eating what appeared to be fish.

Creosian stew was there, a prime staple. My mouth watered after having lived on rations for a couple months. I missed food that didn't come from freeze-dried packets.

"Ah, Mr. Teal, you arrived," Benali said as he approached me from the bar with a cocktail glass in hand. I could have drop kicked the bastard through the window and smashed him against the concrete in Staz River Park ten stories down. "I have a private booth for us. Hope you like savory flavors."

I don't know how long it had been before I realized exactly what I ate. I cherish the fact that I can get by without much, such as a well-seasoned meal at a street vendor and a movie on someone else's screen. "Hope you don't make me broke. I didn't count how hungry you were."