Read Online Crash Deluxe by Marianne de Pierres - Free Book Online
Authors: Marianne de Pierres
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fool.
The Angel shot me up with renewed adrenalin that tightened my muscles and penetrated enough into my consciousness to piss me off.
I’m no fool, I’m—
Woof.
The UL came out of the spin and levelled off without warning. There was a sharp, bone-cracking encounter between me and the steel basket.
Deluxe’s scream turned into laughter as we straightened and slowed.
I craned a look through vomit-encrusted eyelashes. The maniac pilot had his head thrust back and tears streaming down his face.
I was pleased that I was going to live a bit longer. It would give me enough time to wring his neck.
Chapter Seven
B y evening the city’s advertibles and One World overflowed with headlines about the whole thing.
Amorato missing in desperate kidnap attempt.
Duel over femme is fatal.
Globe’s air-traffic regulators abandon their post in crisis.
Rooftop carnage.
Who is the mysterious missing woman?
Virgin Brides singer fined for trashing Interchange corridor during band frenzy. ‘It wasn’t me,’ pleads Garter Thin.
I smothered a laugh at the last one.
The rest, though . . . what was it that Teece and Ibis had said? ‘ There’s attention. And then there’s ATTENTION. ’
I was watching it all from the bar of the Luxoria where Lavish was paying for the drinks. The violet downlights barely lit our corner of the bar, making it easy for me to observe the decor and the company without being obvious.
The company was . . . stunning.
Even though it was out of hours, Lavish’s club buzzed as Amoratos drifted in and out, some wearing portable N-S, others simply stoned or drunk - all in underwear or casual track-gear. But it was they, not their taste in entertainment or fashion, that staggered me. I’d never seen so much beauty in one place - all types and tastes.
Actually, it was more than just beauty. It was as though a . . . residue of sex lingered on them. A syrup-thick come-and-do-it-with-me aura.
I felt the lust rising again. Not surprising - I had the most desirable pieces of flesh in the city strutting about in their knickers right under my nose.
I told myself it was a reaction to the adrenalin rush of the UL ride and that this was not the sort of place to be feeling those sorts of urges. I forced myself to check out the security instead.
Mr Muscle Massive, squashed onto a seat barely big enough to contain his bulk, made Plastique’s boys look soft and small.
Flesh parlours were the same anywhere. You had to have some visible bulk, but I suspected that Mr Massive was mainly for show. Strong, sure, but slow and awkward. And from the way the Amoratos were teasing him, I figured he was probably altogether too nice.
Over by one of the doors, though, were two Koreans dressed like hired help and playing holocards in a restless kinda way.
I figured them for the real deal.
Them, and the anti-beserker screens, and the restraint gear not quite out of sight behind the bar.
I shivered. Paralysis tek scared the Jeez out of me.
Behind the section of the bar where Lavish and I sat, a withered guy who could have climbed straight out of one of Ike del Morte’s petri dishes mixed more drinks. I didn’t think they allowed punters that ugly to live in Viva - let alone in a place like this.
Around his collar I saw the tell-tale orange stains of a wethead.
‘Hurry up with those drinks, Merv,’ ordered Lavish.
Merv frowned and slopped tequila over my hand.
I could’ve gotten pissed off - but this was the guy I’d come to find.
I gave him a friendly wink. If he was half as smart as Honey had said, I didn’t care if he tipped the whole damn bottle over me. At the very least I could get him to fix Merry 3#.
Muted tribal music pulsed around us. Some of the Amoratos danced to it. One perched on Mr Massive’s knee and massaged his temples.
His grin spoke bliss.
Lavish swallowed his drink and demanded another. He seemed to be getting in a mood to talk as he came down from his own high, so I put
The Angel shot me up with renewed adrenalin that tightened my muscles and penetrated enough into my consciousness to piss me off.
I’m no fool, I’m—
Woof.
The UL came out of the spin and levelled off without warning. There was a sharp, bone-cracking encounter between me and the steel basket.
Deluxe’s scream turned into laughter as we straightened and slowed.
I craned a look through vomit-encrusted eyelashes. The maniac pilot had his head thrust back and tears streaming down his face.
I was pleased that I was going to live a bit longer. It would give me enough time to wring his neck.
Chapter Seven
B y evening the city’s advertibles and One World overflowed with headlines about the whole thing.
Amorato missing in desperate kidnap attempt.
Duel over femme is fatal.
Globe’s air-traffic regulators abandon their post in crisis.
Rooftop carnage.
Who is the mysterious missing woman?
Virgin Brides singer fined for trashing Interchange corridor during band frenzy. ‘It wasn’t me,’ pleads Garter Thin.
I smothered a laugh at the last one.
The rest, though . . . what was it that Teece and Ibis had said? ‘ There’s attention. And then there’s ATTENTION. ’
I was watching it all from the bar of the Luxoria where Lavish was paying for the drinks. The violet downlights barely lit our corner of the bar, making it easy for me to observe the decor and the company without being obvious.
The company was . . . stunning.
Even though it was out of hours, Lavish’s club buzzed as Amoratos drifted in and out, some wearing portable N-S, others simply stoned or drunk - all in underwear or casual track-gear. But it was they, not their taste in entertainment or fashion, that staggered me. I’d never seen so much beauty in one place - all types and tastes.
Actually, it was more than just beauty. It was as though a . . . residue of sex lingered on them. A syrup-thick come-and-do-it-with-me aura.
I felt the lust rising again. Not surprising - I had the most desirable pieces of flesh in the city strutting about in their knickers right under my nose.
I told myself it was a reaction to the adrenalin rush of the UL ride and that this was not the sort of place to be feeling those sorts of urges. I forced myself to check out the security instead.
Mr Muscle Massive, squashed onto a seat barely big enough to contain his bulk, made Plastique’s boys look soft and small.
Flesh parlours were the same anywhere. You had to have some visible bulk, but I suspected that Mr Massive was mainly for show. Strong, sure, but slow and awkward. And from the way the Amoratos were teasing him, I figured he was probably altogether too nice.
Over by one of the doors, though, were two Koreans dressed like hired help and playing holocards in a restless kinda way.
I figured them for the real deal.
Them, and the anti-beserker screens, and the restraint gear not quite out of sight behind the bar.
I shivered. Paralysis tek scared the Jeez out of me.
Behind the section of the bar where Lavish and I sat, a withered guy who could have climbed straight out of one of Ike del Morte’s petri dishes mixed more drinks. I didn’t think they allowed punters that ugly to live in Viva - let alone in a place like this.
Around his collar I saw the tell-tale orange stains of a wethead.
‘Hurry up with those drinks, Merv,’ ordered Lavish.
Merv frowned and slopped tequila over my hand.
I could’ve gotten pissed off - but this was the guy I’d come to find.
I gave him a friendly wink. If he was half as smart as Honey had said, I didn’t care if he tipped the whole damn bottle over me. At the very least I could get him to fix Merry 3#.
Muted tribal music pulsed around us. Some of the Amoratos danced to it. One perched on Mr Massive’s knee and massaged his temples.
His grin spoke bliss.
Lavish swallowed his drink and demanded another. He seemed to be getting in a mood to talk as he came down from his own high, so I put
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