Dirty Work: Volume 1

Red Rose - 1

Gleeyus Grasslea had dispatched of the mole inside Dirty Work by the time I got there the next day. The apartment he had given me, whilst simple, was tasteful, and he'd given me enough to keep me going for a week at least on food. That was how he was, was Grasslea. He made sure you were looked after enough that you knew you were wanted, but not enough to think you were needed. You had to earn that right.

Markro gave me the tour around the club and I knew where everything was, every room and article of discarded clothing, before my first day working for the place was out. Markro had me behind the bar the first day, overseeing my work to make sure I didn't mess up too badly, but for the most part he was out making sure that the 'customers' weren't getting too hands on with our girls and occasional guy. Grasslea had a separate stage for male strippers, smaller yes but by no means less important, and he said that at some point he was going to buy the empty building next door and knock it through to do it up for a non-human sector. 'We've had an integrated Empire for at least a thousand years now,' he told me, 'and although humans as a species are slow to learn and acquire a taste for a non-human market, I want to be on that ball and setting the trend. The big guys do it further down the way, and of course Prosterothal does it by the millions, but even they haven't got as big a sector as you'd think. I want to change that.'

Grasslea may have worked in a sleazy occupation half the time and a completely illegal one the rest, but he knew how to work it, and most of the time he tried to do some good with it along the way. One day I'll find out how he got into the business in the first place.

The third day I was there it was a pretty slow start. About six in the evening they were beginning to trickle in, and I was beginning to be pouring more often than not. The show didn't begin until seven but there were always punters that came in purely for a drink or two or to meet up with their mates and partake in some illegal substances. Grasslea didn't care very much. If people came a long and bought stuff and at the end of it all he made a profit, what should it matter to him if they were putting green powder up their noses?

'Xayne,' said one of the girls that also worked the bar, 'the boss wants you.' She had just gotten onto her shift, obviously told to replace me. I'd seen her before hanging out with the Trovations that saved us a few days before, and she seemed nice enough. Never one of the dancers; just helped out where she could. Markro told me she could handle herself in a scrap, and I didn't doubt him, or anyone that worked there.

I put my cloth down that I had been using to wipe the bar and ducked out through the door at the back, making my way to the boss' office. The two guys at the end that I had met before were still there.

'It's the new guy,' the Kakr on the right said.

'The boss wants to see me, apparently,' I said, hoping that I hadn't misheard. I didn't really want to upset those two, their nose-rings glittering gold in the darkened corridor. Veins were popping out of their biceps like rivers on a map, and their guns didn't look any friendlier or less likely to turn on me and make me holier than They since the first time I'd walked into that office.

'So he does,' the second Kakr replied. He hit the Halo-Core and the door slid open.

'Thanks guys,' I said, walking past them and attempting not to look as scared of them as I was.

Grasslea was looking down at a Halo-Core, swiping through some menus. A projection of a gun came up, glimmering blue and swivelling like a prize on a pedestal. Upon noticing me enter the room he pushed it down again.

'Sir,' I said politely, stopping before his desk.

'How's the bar? Not too rowdy I hope? The show doesn't begin for another hour.'

The boss had obtained another painting for his wall since a few days ago, something that probably had been stolen for a while and was worth about three times the amount of the club. I didn't recognise it myself, but I'd never been a great scholar of art. Unless it was worth money, I don't think anybody was.

'It's perfectly fine, thanks.'

'And the girls? You did see the performance last night, didn't you?' I smiled.

'You've got the best in the business, sir.' Grasslea didn't say anything for a moment, and I initially thought I'd offended him somehow. I felt the back of my neck begin to prickle, and I'm pretty sure my heart began to pound a little louder as well. He smiled though, his hands coming together in front of his belly.

'The best in the business. I like it.' He pointed at me, 'I like you.'

'Thank you, sir, that bodes well for me, I hope.'

Grasslea got up and made his way around the table to me. He opened a compartment at the front of the desk and took out a small package, perhaps the size of a Halo-Core. It was roughly square, wrapped up in a black packaging envelope, with a red X across the front. He handed it to me.

'I need you to take this to a place in Region 22 called Chorus Nightclub. Its main entrance is in a back-alley in the Varstrom Area, down a road called Holding-Lane. You can walk to it from the main district if you head towards the triple towers from the Magna Station. Reckon you can find it?'

'Chorus Nightclub, Holding-Lane, Varstrom Area, Region 22,' I repeated.

'Nicely done. I'll send you through a map on your Halo-Core in a second, because Varstrom isn't the smallest of places, and pretty crowded most of the time.'

I slipped the package into my pocket, making a mental note to myself to swap it to my coat pocket when I got home. I'd also need to pick up the XF-58 Alpha Grasslea had given me, just in case.

'Find Chorus, the owner of the place, and hand it over to her. She'll probably give you a drink on the house if you do; she's pretty damn good like that.'

'Anything I should be bringing back with me?' I asked.

'Not that I know of. Now get going. She wants it ASAP.'

I bowed, thanking him, and left the room to get my things from my apartment nearby.