Fair Game

[neurotopia]

Fair Game

 

“It's a fair price, Gribbon. More than fair considering the extra effort it took to get them here.” I don't know why I felt the need to reassure him. For some reason I've always done that. I try to tell myself it's because when people are more at ease, they're less likely to kill you but the truth is I've always been a tad co-dependent that way.

 

Gribbon pursed his lips and looked past me, as if calculating some equation. Of course, I knew what he was thinking. And I knew he was full of shit.

 

“Show me.” He nodded his meaty, round chin toward the crates and shuffled forward, his watchdog Jennes behind him. Jennes was a meat-bag, scary bastard. Between the two of them, he was the one that worried me: dead eyes that take in everything and let nothing out. I figured he was as likely to smile at me as to kill me. And odds are, I wouldn't see either coming. They say some killers are made and some are born. If was I a betting man, which judging by the last 15 years would be safe to say, I'd bet on the latter.

 

“First, let me see the creds.” I said firmly. Sadly, I'm not a tough guy, and never have been. I mean, sure, I'm good behind a stick or blaster... but I've met tough guys before and, for whatever reason, always known I could never be one. Still, I know how to make a statement imposing. And I was counting on that. Gribbon was a conniving son of a bitch and I knew a bit of bristling on my part would make him think. After all, we judge others by our own scales.

 

“Explosives, huh?” He squinted his eyes, finally noticing the conductive tape I left around the edge of the lid.

 

I smiled, nodding my head in feigned humility, “You do have a bit of a... reputation.” The Xin cartel was still mostly Chinese, though Gribbon wasn't. It was important to leverage mannerisms if I was gonna pull this off. Gribbon dropped the satchel from his big, round shoulder and tossed it at my feet. I sighed and frowned, picked up the bag and dropped it on the crate beside me. I didn't want it to go this way and made a show of checking the contents of the bag. Though the air was cold the atmo was thin and the sun beating down on my jacket was making me a bit warm.

 

“The money's there.” I stated flatly.

 

“Of course.” Gribbon feigned surprise at my remark. “Business is built on trust.”

 

Too easy. I suppose I was trying to put off the inevitable – maybe think of the right thing to say to change his mind. Gribbon was the gatekeeper. If I was going to infiltrate the Xin cartel, I didn't have a choice but to deal with him. I pried the lid off the top and let it slide with a thunk into dry, orange dirt. I'd picked this spot carefully. Not that Gribbon cared. Why should he? He had Jennes and I had... well... a lot of orange dirt. Gribbon smiled and peered into the crate, sliding his hand along the length of one of the rifles. He was missing one tooth and another was badly chipped. Jennes just stood there, imposing and almost tree-like.

 

“400 Pilgrim RFX-19 burst rifles.” I couldn't help myself – part of being a technophile junkie, I suppose – or at least that's what I needed him to think. “80 round, high-charge capacitor mags, integrated gyros for recoil, elegant secondary energy bleeds for sustained fire, multi-spectrum optics, and one of the more accurate plasma rifles on the market – fully powered and ready. Mr. Zhu should be pleased with his purchase. It's a good deal – especially given the... difficulty of getting these things across UEE space.” One look at Gribbon's face told me I had him. Along with his reputation for being a murderous, lying fuck, he also supposedly shared my predilection for... elegant hardware. I let the moment linger a bit before I interrupted his gun-ogling. “So... are we good?”

 

His almost child-like smile quickly faded. “Yes. Yes, we are good.” He hesitated long enough for me to pretend to relax. “Just one more thing... the detonator.”

 

“Of course.” I reached into my pocket, pulled out the detonator and laid it on top of the open crate. “It's all yours. Maybe you can put in a good word for me to Mr. Zhu. I'd like to think we might do business again.”

 

“Unfortunately, I think... no.” Gribbon's hand stopped on one of the rifles. He ceremoniously picked up the weapon and checked the mag readout. “100 percent – very considerate.” He shrugged. “If you had been more clever, maybe...” The rifle let out its distinctive quick, high-pitched whine as he charged the coil.

 

I sighed, frustrated. “I always hate staring down the barrel of a weapon, even when it's not really loaded. It's just... disconcerting, you know? Makes you think 'what if?' and brings on a whole slew of existential angst.”

 

Gribbon cocked his head and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. “What did...?”

 

“Battery mod.” I interrupted, flatly. “Just the ones on top. I couldn't be sure which one you'd pick. I mean, not for sure.” Before either could move, I extended my arm. The wrist brace under my coat launched the holdout into my palm. It was already pointed at Gribbon.

 

Stupefied, all he could manage was, “How?

 

“I changed out the capacitor displays. The batteries only had enough charge to light them up.” For the first time, I spoke directly to Jennes, “Don't worry, tell Mr. Zhu they'll still charge fine.” then returned to Gribbon. “As for how I got this past your scanners...” My eyes quickly shifted to the holdout, then back to the two men in front of me.” It's a simple pressure gun. Only good for a couple shots, but no chemical or electromagnetic signature. My own design.” I shouldn't have said that last part, it was hubris. But the whole situation had put me on edge. Gribbon shifted, nervous. Jennes didn't do anything – just stood there, quiet and menacing. “You know, this could have gone your way if you hadn't pulled that trigger.”

 

“There is –“ SPLACK! Gribbon's head flipped back. His tick-like body teetered for half a second before dropping onto the orange dirt.

 

I turned my attention to Jennes. “Are we good?” I had no idea what he was going to do and, honestly, I wasn't sure one shot from a pop-gun would even annoy him.

 

“We are good.” He smiled. His teeth were whiter than I thought they'd be.

[Adam]

Very good

[AstroJak]

i like that... "fair game" you wrote this ?? sorry to ask, i'm just unfamiliar with it.

[neurotopia]

yeah, had an urge to be creative and an idea for a tech character that's a bit neurotic.  liked the vignette in my head so i decided to write it down.  still toying with some notions for a continuation.  not sure if i'll write 'em though -- haven't done much writing (at least not fiction) in over a decade so i'm a bit rusty.  

[Wetworker]

Nice work

[neurotopia]

thanks  

[Red-Coal]

Very nice. I hope you decide to do some more, this was very good.

[neurotopia]

thanks!  yeah, i'd like to do more with it.  i think the character is pretty interesting.  sadly, my creativity has been a bit short between work, family, and trying to finish up a thesis proposal.  i'll most likely continue it, but whether that's weeks, months, or years from now is kinda up in the air.  

[Red-Coal]

I can certainly understand feeling drained after all of that. Best of luck on your thesis proposal! 

[Irablue]

Probably the best piece of fan fic I've seen so far

I'm looking forward to seeing what happens next, even if we have to wait a while 

[neurotopia]

thanks irablue, that's kind of you to say -- though, honestly, i'm not sure i agree.  but hey, i'm not one to turn down a compliment!   and it does certainly serve as motivation to get off my butt and do some more writing.