New Hadera
West Neverhood
Neverhood University
Lukin Grey sat up in bed sighed, arching his back and popping a kink in his neck. He reached for his cigar-- another habit he'd picked up-- and inhaled the fresh aroma of the finest synthiCuban from Kibbutz Litani. Next to him, his recent partner stirred and looked up at him with bleary eyes.
"Hey," she said in Trade English.
"Hey yourself," he replied. She smiled and pulled herself up, her shock of blond hair spilling down over her face. With a giggle she pulled it back up, away from her eyes, and reaffixed her hair in a sloppy whalespout.
"You want breakfast?"
"Of course," he said, eyeing her as she got up from the bed. She moved to the tiny galley in the dorm quad-apartment. The tiny kitchenette, like the bathroom, was in the middle of the quad; Tatiana's roommate Miri Bernstein slept in a room on the other side of the common-room in a bedroom much like the one Lukin and Tatiana shared-- which was barely big enough for the bed itself. In the cool morning air, the breeze from the recirculator fans raised goose pimples on her explosed, pinkish-pale flesh.
Lukin Grey had had sex with Caucasian females on many occassions. Usually it was a means to an end, to be sure, but there were times when it was just fun for him. Like now-- he enjoyed the company of Tatiana Sokolov, even though she was really more of a child-woman enjoying her first taste of freedom and adventure away from parental control. She had proven invaluable in showing Lukin around and answering questions at great length about everything in the port city-- and Haderan society as well. Lukin himself was unfamiliar with the region-- he was from a modest town in the north-east province, close to the Nukistani Strait.
She put on some music-- rapid Hebrew rap that Lukin found entertaining-- and returned to the bed with a couple of rapid-heat hiking & survival ration packs. Most of the less fortunate in the city (an ever-surging population) ate these as quick breakfasts, since the breakfast menues were pretty good while the lunch menues were usually fairly dismal. That was when most of the students, at least, ate at the cafeteria, anyway. Lukin stubbed out the last of the cigar and tore open the ration pack.
"God, watch that tongue work," Tatiana teased. Lukin smiled as he cleaned out the foil-lined packet. He washed aside memories of the last girl he'd had sex with.
It has been at the orders of Kelah Bonesteel, and administered upon a hostage they had taken as a political statement against the Nukistani work camp security chief-- his daughter, 15 years of age. The girl had proven most resilient and engaged in defiance that was wholly unecessary-- clearly she'd had no idea the types of people she was dealing with. Until Kelah, aware of Lukin's 'proclivities', ordered him in to "break the bitch". As a psychological ploy, it had succeeded in making her a sobbing, traumatized mess-- a very docile one at that.
"Hey, what's up?" Tatiana's voice asked as she brushed the sparse, soft patchy bear hair of his cheek. "You're all far-off."
"Nothing," he said, and started to brush her hand aside but ended up locking fingers with it. He took her empty ration pack and his and tossed them on the floor. He hadn't intended to start anything but she misunderstood his momentary melancholy and compassion for something else and lay back, opening herself to him. Lukin followed through absently and again they lay, finished, her eyes fascinated at him.
"Hold on a moment," she said, and leaned over to search through her heap of discarded clothes. She found what she wanted in the pocket of her dockworker's parka and pulled it out. She scooted to the edge of the bed and opened her treasure packet-- a small razor-like blade, a mirror, a baby spoon and a straw. She spilled powder on the mirror with the spoon and arranged it in little lines with the blade.
"Want some?" she asked. Lukin smiled sadly.
"Just makes me sneeze," he said. Sometimes the RUF ran the stuff, but kept their noses away from it.
"Probably better," she giggled, "I don't think I have enough..." she teased and smiled before turning to her mirror and inhaling.
"Ahhh, fuck yahh, fuck yahh," she said, letting a slight gasp escape from her pretty, still hot-pink lipsticke'd mouth. A sudden idea struck Lukin.
"Whre do you get that stuff?" he asked, "I mean.. it can't be... legal here, is it?"
"Oh, fuck, no..." she said, and leaned back in bed to snuggle with Lukin's warm body, "I'll show you later.... right now..." She reached for him, and Lukin leaned back to let her take over, surrupticiously glancing at the clock. He had two hours before meeting with Jackson Blackpelt and Kelah so they could plan their next moves.
And little Tatiana Sokolov had given Lukin an idea.
========================================
PORT HADERA
DOCKSIDE
"Everybody get back!" the policeman said, his hand hovering menacingly by the holster on his belt. He didn't
want to, but he was becoming alarmed. There was only six officers in their area, all the city could spare. Most people were congregating on the side of the bay with the marina, few had been expected at the commercial docks.
But the tiny guard shack, with its one uniformed, middle-aged, fat civilian security guard had made no effort toinvolve himself in turning back the crowds of people that mobbed the docks. There were too many people, and the docks were in ruins anyway from the force of the blast.
And now people were pouring through like ants, swarming the dockside for a chance to find the gold that had sailed into the air from the explosion of the Libertian vessel-- a vessel that authorities were certain, now, had been involved in
some sort of smuggling, but they weren't sure what-- beyond robbery.
The gold had been pilfered from the Neverhood national treasury, the bars not even been melted down or altered, just taken. It had happened in the initial hours of rioting and demonstrations, when order had broken down particularly in the East Neverhood provinces. They still bore the Treasury seal, and the surviving boat crew had melted away, untraceable. Where the ship was supposed to go, as well, was not certain-- the Neverhood civil government and police forces were not capable of dealing with an in-depth investigation.
"Get back!" the policeman yelled again, but the mob surged ahaead anyway-- some gleeful at the idea of a treasure hunt in the harbor waters, others furious.
"It's
ours!" one man yelled, "It's the people's money!"
"I have a family to feed!" a woman wailed, "This will feed my children for a year! Just
one bar!"
The cop wondered about that-- even the black market was having a convulsion of inflation now-- especially since the day gold literally fell from the sky.
"This has to be rounded up and put back in the treasury!" the policeman yelled, "We need it to provide value for our civic services..."
"Fuck you!" a college student yelled, "The MESS will support us with the ROB!"
"Ha, ha!" an older man next to the student mocked, "The ROB? 'Randomly Overvalued Banknote' will float us? Dream on! Get the gold while you can, sonny, 'cause the MESS will cut and run when it gets nasty here!"
"It's already nesty here!" the wailing woman said. The man gave her a sad, meaningful look.
"Oh, no," he said, "It can get worse."
The crowd mobbed the police line, and one of the cops-- a young rookie, near panic, drew his gun and fired into the air-- bad mistake. The mob panicked, and people began screaming, and some of the angry agitators in the mob reacted.
"They're going to kill us!" one man yelled, "Get the bastards!" He and three of his football-hooligan-looking buddies tackled the young cop and all of them toppled over into the water. The crowd began to run, stampeding, as the remaining cops tried to help thier buddy and forgot about crowd-control. Numerous people took the chjance ot jump into the filthy, oil, fuel, and garbage-strewn water to try to find gold.
The scene was punctuated by a far of blast and a spout of white water arcing into the air. The crowd screamed again, but people further away-- far enough away to feel secure being more curious than scared, turned to look at the oddly muffled explosion, and began to point.
"Look!" they yelled, and the crowd began to slow, and look, and stop.
At the mouth of the harbor a ship sat at an odd angle-- a container ship, a big one, that had been held up by customs inspectors, the crew fined and put in holding. The vessel tilted, and began to sink. Air pressure from decks being filled with water blew out hatches in brilliant displays.
"What the hell?" the student mumbled. Next to him, the older man shook his head.
"It just got worse."
- PeZook
