Chapter 13

  I burst through the door and out into the artificial night to find four dark figures gathered around a fifth that laid curled on the ground. Isea clutched at his ribs and groaned as one of the figures spat on him and brought his hand back for another hard punch. Broken glass under Isea’s body crunched as he tried to shy away from the source of his pain unsuccessfully.

  One of the people beating Isea was a little more aware than the others, turning my way upon hearing the back door to the club slam open. Once he spotted me, he swatted the man next to him, the one currently punching Isea. When the other man didn’t react, the observant guy swatted him again.

  “Stop that! What? What the hell do you want?” The swatted man bellowed. “You slap me one more time, I'll feed you your own fingers.”

  “Somebody’s here,” the observant guy said. The entire party turned around at that, excluding Isea, of course. He was too busy being curled up in the fetal position.

  The angry guy, the one in charge I sensed, only turned away from Isea for a second. He was larger than I was, more around the middle than in height, but he had the figure of a man that stayed strong and was accustomed to violence.

  He looked at me only long enough to say: “Piss off and mind your business.” Then the punching began again.

  Well if a witness wasn’t going to stop them, it had to be something else. I guessed it was incumbent on me to say something now.

  “So, uh- This isn’t where I parked my car,” I said.

  That got a few confused shrugs from the standing guys, but the guy in charge got me.

  “You’re right. Maybe check the lot across the street or just about anywhere else. Piss. Off. Now. Next time, I’m not asking.”

  The glass crunched under my feet as I stepped forward, off the raised threshold of the doorway and onto ‘ground level,’ whatever that meant on a space station, and just out of grabbing distance from the thugs. If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t really know how to proceed. I’d never been the aggressor in a fight before, not against people at least.

  Thank Constance, one of the goons showed initiative. He charged forward with one meaty paw grabbing for my jacket and another reared back to deliver a right hook. He might as well have been doing it in slow motion, though. Again, it felt so incredibly wrong to be stronger and faster than the things trying to do me harm. I just wasn’t used to it. This had to be done, though, despite my misgivings.

  I used Mr. Grippy to twist the thug’s lead hand and pull it aside then followed up with an open palmed slap against his nose. It was all I could think to do. I was afraid to actually punch the guy, since I hadn’t really had cause to fight someone that wasn’t a magically juiced superhuman before. What if my 60 points in Body made everything but love taps a killing blow? I didn’t want this guy’s death on my conscience.

  “Ah! F- BLARGPHTH!!!”

  The results were messy. The dude inhaled sharply as the bones in his hand ground together under my fingers, but whatever colorful profanity he had on deck were lost in the fountain of blood my slap forced from his ruined nose and mouth. The cartilage in the goon’s face shifted and broke, the skin on his lips split, and warm blood spewed out between my fingers like I’d just smashed a ketchup packet.

  After that, he went down gurgling.

  The still standing thugs and I shared horrified, disbelieving looks, me because I just slapped a guy so hard he was bleeding, them because I’d just slapped a guy so hard he was bleeding and I’d done it in a blink.

  That also got the leader’s attention again. This time, he paused his work on Isea and faced me. We were almost touching noses, but what really encroached on my personal space was his protruding belly.

  Again, I felt like it was my turn to talk.

  “I lied. I don’t own a car,” I said. The guy with the broken nose at our feet groaned.

  The husky leader worked his jaw back and forth, no hint of fear or hesitation in his expression.

  “Alright. Put him down,” he said, like he was ordering the special at a dinner.

  They tried to put me down.

  Only I was way ahead of them, or, at least, Detect Iron was. The knife that was being drawn from one of the thug’s pockets was suddenly in my hand, along with the thug’s hand (still attached but broken in several places). He was very keen to have it back, alternating between squirming under my iron grip and trying to kick me in the legs.

  “Mel. Mel, don’t,” Isea breathed from on the ground. He sounded bad. There was a wheezing undertone to his breathing, and his words were slurred. I wasn’t even sure if he knew I was there. “I can get the money. Please.”

  Talor Jons hits you for 3 damage (bludgeoning).

  Sav Dexrol hits you for 12 damage (bludgeoning).

  I turned toward the other goon, wincing at the pain in my temple.

  “Stop that,” I growled between clenched teeth at the guy that had just hit me, the one on my right. He’d done the smart thing and not tried to knife me, so he was getting his one warning.

  Mel, for his part, had paused mid swing, his brass (iron) knuckles he’d produced from his pocket gleaming in the red light and a thoughtful look on his face.

  “Alright. What do you want?” he asked.

  “I’m here for him,” I replied, gesturing down at Isea with my head. I still had the knife guy’s hand pinned next to my chest.

  Mel shook his head slowly, a disbelieving smile appearing on his face. “Nah. I don’t think you are. Guys like him don’t inspire that kind of loyalty. You’re here for Chell, aren’t you? What our sweet, innocent girl sees in Zee here, I’ll never know.”

  “She asked me not to do this, actually,” I said, leaning forward a bit more into his space. “But I insisted.”

  “Well, Mister, now that you’ve graced us with your presence, let me tell you how this goes,” Mel said, not intimidated by me in the slightest. “You’re strong. You think this makes you something, and you think you can throw your weight around. I can see why that might make you think you’ve got the upper hand here. You can kick my guys’ asses, break some heads, maybe even put me down, but you’re only here because you don’t have the full picture.”

  “Not sure about that,” I said.

  “The point is: I know Isea. Know where he lives. I don’t know you,” he said. Then he inched forward and put a finger in my gut. “But I will. You ever want to sleep soundly again, you need to rethink what you’re doing here.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Threatening me now?”

  “It’s not a threat. I’m teaching you about consequences. Hey. Maybe you’re invincible. Good for you. He’s not,” Mel pointed down at Isea. “He’s weak. Vulnerable. Bet most people you know are that way. You don’t walk away right now, I’ll- GHAHG!”

  My metal hand was in his mouth before he had a chance to say any more. The knife wielding thug I’d been holding onto a blink before was now on the ground clutching his ruined hand.

  “See,” I began, pulling Mel closer to my face, my grip on his jaw quite compelling. “I was hoping we could just talk. I mean, sure, I expected a little resistance, but after that I was hoping to move past stuff like this. I would have tolerated threats to myself and maybe to Isea. We were past that point, you know? Tempers were hot, and they weren’t going to cool down before everyone had their say. But now you’re pulling in third parties. I don’t like that.”

  “Mfffgrb,” Mel said, his eyes wide. The man was angry and afraid and angry that he was afraid. I saw murder in his eyes.

  I sighed, trying to stay calm, at least on the outside. The icy lake at my core threatened to assert itself once more. He’d threatened people I knew… I didn’t actually know anyone on this station other than Doc and Isea, really, but it was the concept of it. “It shows an incompatibility between you and I. Our morality is fundamentally different, see? I’m not sure we’ll ever overcome it, Mel.”

  He growled around my fingers. I was sure that if I’d used my real hand, he’d have tried to bite his way out of this by now. As it was, though, I was one Devouring Grasp away from gaining knowledge of human bone and Mel eating his meals through a tube.

  One, two deep breaths, and I got that urge under control.

  I turned to the only remaining intact thug. “How much does he owe?”

  The guy didn’t answer. He looked to Mel and back to me then back to Mel again. “I- I don’t know.”

  I sighed once more. Now I had to hear Mel speak again.

  So, I gave the big man a good shove and removed my metal hand from his mouth. Mel rubbed his jaw and ran his tongue over his teeth to check for missing ones.

  “How much does he owe, Mel?” I asked. “Try threatening us again, and I’ll get upset.”

  Mel spat a tooth on the ground along with a good bit of blood. Oops.

  “Not threatening,” Mel growled.

  “Good.” Now we were making progress.

  “No. You’re not threatening,” Mel explained. “You’re not the killing type.”

  “Want to bet money on that?” I asked.

  He shook his head and stepped back into my reach, almost daring me to hurt him some more. “Betting’s my business, Mister. You’re not that guy. I can see it, right there.” He pointed a stubby finger directly at my right eye.

  “Fine.” I took a breath, preparing to dive back in, but Mel backed off and raised his hands.

  “Woah. Woah. Doesn’t mean I want to lose another tooth. Calm down. Anyway, Isea owes us a large sum with interest. I let him off for a month out of love for Chell, but then he came around here again looking to put money on the fights. As far as I’m concerned, until he’s paid up, he was trying to gamble with my money. He’s a liar and a thief.”

  Bartering is now level 2.

  Very funny, System.

  I cast a pitying glance down at Isea then at the bleeding men on the ground that I’d hurt. I suddenly felt very tired.

  Why was I here? What was I doing?

  I reached into my jacket pocket and made one of the hexagonal coins I’d received from Philipe appear. The flash was just barely visible from the mouth of the pocket. Once I had it between my fingers, I pulled it out and flipped it to Mel.

  “Will this cover it?”

  The thug to my right gasped, leaning forward and squinting. The others were more or less distracted with their injuries. Mel, however, just stared down at the coin in his hand, his mouth turned down in a thoughtful frown.

  “Does that cover it?” I asked again, trying to gain the man’s attention.

  Mel face went slack, his entire being pulled into his inspection of the coin, but the moment didn’t last forever. He seemed to remember I existed again, looking up at me as his hand closed around the coin tightly.

  “Well?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, this covers it,” Mel mumbled. The way he was staring at me made me feel uncomfortable, so I took the opportunity to bend down and scoop up Isea, eliciting another groan from the young man, but after the initial difficulty of straightening himself, he largely stood on his own. I shuffled the two of us toward the mouth of the alleyway, pausing momentarily beside Mel so that I could lean over and ask quietly: “Am I going to have to come back here, Mel?”.

  He shook his head slowly.

  Well, at least that was done.

  I got Isea moving again, one painful step at a time.

  We were almost out, nearly out of the shadowy alley and into the main flow of foot traffic when Mel called to us again.

  “You look familiar, Mister.”

  I didn’t turn back to acknowledge him. I didn’t have a retort. I simply kept the two of us moving, out of the alley and into the flow of the rest of humanity.

  Isea was walking on his own by the time we got to the stairway. It had largely been a quiet trip, neither of us wanting to begin while we were out in public. Internally, however, I was fuming. I was cursing up a storm with words I didn’t even realize I’d heard. What was I doing? What the fuck was wrong with me? Why was I like this? Why couldn’t I just leave things alone? Why did I have to rush into things when my entire schtick was to think, plan, and build?

  I’d come out with Isea to gather intel for my next move, and in the process I’d put myself one move from being checkmated.

  The general vibe must have come across pretty well, because Isea’s eyes almost never left the ground.

  Still cursing myself and everyone on the station, I reached a breaking point, and I grabbed Isea by the arm, dragging him into a tiny, fenced area with sheer privacy curtains and artificial candles flickering on the tables. I imagined the little patio was supposed to look romantic with all the flowing bits and ‘candle light.’ No one was in there. I’d checked it with Detect before we’d come in.

  I leaned in close to Isea so no one else could hear what was going to be said.

  “What?” Isea asked, still rubbing his ribs.

  “So you’re a gambler,” I said.

  “No,” Isea replied defensively. “Well, I do from time to t-”

  “Shut up. Of course you’re a gambler. You like it so much you risked your life to do it again.”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to get the money by working for Doc! You took care of that!” Isea rasped, holding up his splinted hand.

  “You know that’s not fair. You brought me out here to- Nevermind. I came because I wanted to. I just- Fuck! Isea! I just pissed off organized crime around here, didn’t I?”

  “They're not… well, they're not criminals per se. They do some illegal stuff, but no one’s telling them no, you know?”

  “Fuck!” I shouted, loud enough for a few passersby to glance sideways at the curtains we were hiding behind.

  Isea’s gaze fell once again, shamed. ”I’m sorry. I’m really sorry I brought you into all this, but you-”

  “We have to keep moving,” I interrupted him. Then I grabbed him by the arm and practically flung the both of us out into the flow of traffic again.

  Isea wasn’t done, however. “Alright. I’m just sorry, okay? Thank you for helping me. You didn’t have to help me, but you did.”

  “Thank me after tonight,” I said.

  Isea squinted at me, confused, concerned… also…. It occurred to me, then, that we’d forgotten his glasses back at the club.

  “May I ask’ why after tonight?’” he asked.

  “How long is that tournament thing going to last tonight?”

  Isea blinked, having a hard time pivoting to a new subject and one from left field as it was. “Uh. They have about ten matches scheduled. Depends on how long they last.”

  “Take me there. Right now.”.

  “Right now?” Isea squeaked.

  “Constance, help me. Yes, right now, Isea. Mel recognized me. I just pissed away my only shot at doing this the smart way on my own time,” I spat. I was furious at myself.

  “What?”

  “I have to get this done tonight, or your buddy Mel is going to sick the Marshals on me. Either that or he’s going to try to shake me down with the threat of reporting me to security. Either way, the only way out of this is an immediate ass hauling directly to the objective.”

  “I don’t understand. We need to go to the Academy? That’s in Brightside. What am I supposed to-”

  “I need to talk to the Exotic lady with the gray hair.”

  “Dean Yisu?” Isea said the name with a kind of fear and reverence reserved for vengeful deities.

  “Sure.”

  “Get you next to Dean Yisu. I don’t- How?”

  “Figure it out, Isea. Which way to Brightside?”

  Leadership is now level 3.

  Hey. Thanks for giving In my Defense a chance. New chapters will be posted Tuesdays and Thursdays, eventually ramping up depending on the amount of interest we can generate here.

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