part 5
Sunlight sifting through the shutters awoke the blonde, Monica. Jenna was right beside her, still deep in dreamland.
She looked around. Except for the generic furniture, the room was empty; no trace of this night’s customer. What had actually happened during the last few hours?
Damn, Jenna, I think that guy fooled us!”
She shook Jenna, grabbing her by the shoulder. Jenna reacted slowly, stretching her frame across the bed.
“Whassup? Whassatime?”
“That guy takes off, probably even without paying us, and all you can think of is to ask me the time of day? It’s first the dough, then the bun. So tell me why we did forget that simple rule yesterday evening?”
“Maybe it’s because I have that air of trustworthiness?”
Deacan has appeared in the door. Heavily he went over to the bed, causing Monica to shift closer to Jenna. Pretty late they noted his strange apparel: He was wearing a kind of bullet-proof vest under his coat, together with heavy boots and studded cut-off leather gloves. He obviously hadn’t found the opportunity to shave, and a little circlet of a scar adorned his forehead, another his temple. His long, dark hair fell to his shoulders, framing the face. He approached another step towards the bed.
“I thought you might be hungry. Since you don’t get any chow in this dump, I’d suggest going someplace else.”
Monica reached for her data chip. It was about the same size and build as Deacan’s multicomputer, but only designed to represent the owner’s identity and creditability; just as a combined ID and credit card. She was in the process of checking it when Deacan reached for her hand to stop her.
“Looks like my air of trustworthiness grows pretty thin on this planet. Regrettable, but please check. You’ll see that your credit is in the green again.”
Monica hesitated for a moment – there was no reason to trust him, so she checked her credit rating. Indeed, her host hadn’t lied, the money was there.
She looked at Jenna, who had dug down under the covers again without much more thought about getting up.
“I guess Jenna’s also fluent again, and you’ve gotten her the sum we agreed on.”
Deacan sat down on the bed, reached for Monica’s clothes and held them out to her.
“We were talking about breakfast, weren’t we? Don’t work yourself up, it’s on my bill.”
“If that is so, we’re on.”
Monica took the clothes from him. Deacan got up, pointing to Jenna.
“Wake her up. I’ll meet you in a quarter of an hour in front of this hole. We’ll talk business while we eat, about the job I’d like you to do for me.”
“Say, are you married?”
Monica looked at Deacan. He just raised an eyebrow.
“That important to you?”
Monica tried to get into the tight bodice.
“I thought maybe a guy like you, with lots of money, surely has somebody waiting for him somewhere. Somebody with a child and so on.”
Deacan smiled.
“To cater your nosiness: No. Just wake up sweetie pie over there and come down.”
He stepped through the door and threw it shut behind him. Monica easily heard his footsteps striding away. She kicked Jenna.
“Sweetie, get up. I have a feeling we’re just about to leave this godforsaken place.”
“But we never stayed long in any motel.”
“I’m not talking about the hotel, I mean the damn planet. Hermes.”
Jenna’s head appeared from below the sheets. “You sure?”
“Not sure as in sure. But this guy could be our ticked to freedom. Any place is better than here, believe me.”
“And what do you want to do somewhere else? That job we do isn’t permitted everywhere.”
“Was that ever a problem for us? Listen; get up, that guy – what’s his name?”
“Deacan.”
“Yeah, right, Deacan. He’s waiting for us.”
Jenna dragged herself up and went into the small bathroom, trying to get her mane of wild hair straight.
“I think I’ll never sleep that long again. I feel shot. For the future, it’s just a quick job and off to the next one, you hear me?”