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An Eighty Percent Solution Part 7

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Three dissimilar individuals cl.u.s.tered around a juice-steroid bar chatting among themselves. An exotic young woman, who looked like something out of a combination mercenary/p.o.r.n rag, would draw anyone's eyes. Her legs bulged thirty centimeters thick of gem-like green polymer. In place of her arms waved a pair of tentacles of the same material, flexing in multiple directions. Twisted emerald tiles overlapped on her buxom torso, giving her a sensual, reptilian look. Only her head seemed human, sporting short red and orange hair like overlapping waves of fire.

Next to her a dwarf, genetically engineered for subterranean mining operations, squatted on a stool, his copper-colored skin contrasting with the verdant young woman beside him. The bartender, outwardly unmodified, wore an ap.r.o.n stained in purple and crimson. He leaned against the semicircular countertop and absently wiped in an oval pattern.

Tony drifted over to square jaw. "I'm curious, do you know a Sonya?"

"No hablo ingles. Hablas espanol?"

Tony dug into his high-school Spanish to communicate. "Conoces a Sonya?"



"No."

"Gracias." Having gone well beyond his Spanish language capabilities already, Tony pa.s.sed on further conversation with the large man and moved over to the juice bar.

"Drinks and drugs are listed above," offered the man behind the bar as Tony sat on the stool. "We don't have a medical license, so all drugs are oral."

"Do you know Sonya?"

"Don' know no Sonya," offered the green woman in a high-pitched voice with a smooth lisp. In spite of its sharpness, her voice caressed a deep spot within his loins. She never looked in Tony's direction, but this didn't stop him from wondering. When he regained a modic.u.m of control, he went on.

"Thank you, miss. Do either of you other two know her?"

"Nope. Don't know any Sonya," offered the short, leathery-skinned man. "What about you, Linc?" he directed to the server. Linc just shook his mostly bald head from side to side.

Tony looked up and read the menu. "I'll have a raspberry and lemongra.s.s smoothie. Might as well have something to tide me over while I wait."

"Wha' you wai'n for?" yelled the green woman over the sound of the blender. Even at this volume, and despite its desperately high pitch, her voice once again brushed a longing within him. He coughed.

"Someone sent me to see Sonya, here at this gym. I've been given to believe she's a regular. I'll have to hang around until I find her."

"Good luck, friend," came the deep voice of the dwarf as he hopped from his stool. "I'm outta here, Linc." The green woman stood with him.

"Don't dig up any bones, Carl. Suet, keep those tentacles to yourself," the bartender said, putting a pink drink down. Tony dropped a bill on the counter. "No charge for members."

"Oh, yeah," Tony mumbled as he picked up the drink. "That's just a tip."

"Well, thank you, sir!"

Tony's eyes swayed in time with the hips of the green-skinned woman. Absently, the drink went to his lips. Grimacing, he tore his eyes to look down at the grainy pink drink. "Blech."

Over the next six hours Tony sipped as many different drinks between asking his question to everyone who entered. Tony found no success as the night wore on, either in finding the woman Sonya or a palatable liquid. In fact, one concoction of orange, s.h.i.take and ginkgo with the dubious moniker "Remember Rise" specifically drew his ire.

Hours dragged by. He entertained himself watching some of the fittest of the female members as they came and went. He even went so far as to try some of the equipment, only to discover how ill-suited he was to the surroundings. Apparently he'd experienced plenty of muscle atrophy since his football days. By four in the morning he finally threw in the towel.

"I guess this was a snipe hunt, then," Tony muttered to himself.

"A what?" the bartender named Linc asked from across the bar.

"A snipe hunt," he repeated. "A snipe was a mythical bird that people in the twentieth century would send others to find."

"If they were mythical, how did you find them?"

"That's the point of the exercise-to make people look foolish."

"Well, it worked. You look pretty flarking foolish, all right."

A tiny suspicion rose in Tony's mind. "I guess it is time for some sleep." In the mirror on the opposite side of the room, Tony watched carefully as he turned to walk out the door. The bartender's cosmetically enhanced blue eyes followed his movements, confirming his hunch. This place held his answer. Linc knew Sonya. Tony knew he must return. He needed to think of something to get either Linc's or Sonya's attention.

Tony stepped out of the gym into Portland's perpetual drizzle. He stopped to let his eyes readjust to the night's darkness. A gang of girls, each bearing multiple militant body enhancements of one form or another, sauntered down the middle of the pockmarked street like they owned it. As things stood on street level, they probably did own this patch of ground.

Tony decided he'd come back tomorrow and formally join the gym. If he didn't stir anything up that way, he could always trail that Linc fellow. The decision made, he relaxed-a little too much. The largest mistake anyone could make in any world, especially ground level, involved not paying attention. Usually the payment involved a painful death.

"I hope Cin made it through the day," he mumbled to himself. "I didn't mean to be gone so-"

The world suddenly painted itself a parody of even Salvador Dali as a solid wall melted into a twisted pretzel, two of the girls melded into one distorted figure with two heads and six limbs, and the earth beneath him rolled like an ocean wave. Even his body joined the insanity as it wavered and slumped upon the wet pavement like a jellyfish taken from the ocean and dropped upon a rock.

Another shape grew out of the pavement, a giant green octopus with the head of a woman. Sometimes it waved two tentacles and other times eight. Tony couldn't seem to care one way or the other. Drool rolled out of the corner of his mouth. "P'eas feed m'cat."

Tony struggled to consciousness to the gritty strains of a cla.s.sic oldie, "Persian Slide" by the Violent Slugs. A conversation took place just outside his understanding. Tony's scrambled thoughts sorted out three distinct voices but couldn't yet drag coherence of the words, or even a desire to interpret. No part of his body responded to his commands. His arms, legs, and other pieces he hadn't yet identified as his own tingled like a thousand ants gnawing on each exposed surface. By forcing dominion over his rebellious body he managed the Herculean task of opening his eyes.

Even though only a single low wattage bulb brightened the room, the ants stabbed daggers into his eyes. Squinting, Tony found himself stacked behind boxes proclaimed Smirnov Vodka, Seagram's Gin and Jack Daniels, mixed with kegs of miscellaneous beer. One portion of his mind wondered at the immense value if the boxes contained what they advertised. The illegal alcohol in those containers could allow anyone to retire with lifetime full medical in their choice of luxury resorts.

A new sharp pain, announcing itself in his wrists, brought the tenuous thing he called attention back to his predicament. Twisting his head around, he found golden tanglewire wrapped around his arms and legs. A certain trivial part of his brain shouted that amateurs tied his bonds. Everyone knew from solido that you either did two opposite figure eights, or you went around and around with a cinch wire between the limbs.

"Who's he?" said a familiar high, velvety feminine voice.

"Who gives a rat's t.e.s.t.i.c.l.e, Suet? He's a corpie and wants Sonya. Vape him," offered a male voice.

"Ya hear' him ask abou' his ca'? Maybe he's 'ooking for her 'o fix his purry?"

"Probably a Metro trick. Maybe they figured out that she fixes pets."

Quietly, Tony commanded his mutinous body to squirm to a point where he could view his captors. The balding juice mixer still wore his stained ap.r.o.n.

"It's 'veterinarian,' Carl," offered the bartender.

"Veteran or fixer, don't make no difference to me. This feek needs to be buried," offered the dark-colored dwarf.

"He don't seem like a bad Joe, even if he is a corpie. He don't cause no trouble. He even talk to the Nils."

"We cou' crash his f'at n'see if he's go' a furry," said the green woman.

"Not a bad suggestion, Suet. When we're done here, I want you to check it."

"We ain't gonna let him speak to Sonya?"

"You know how she is," the green woman identified as Suet said without a single lisp for a change.

"Yeah, you don't screen her and she'll turn you into a lizard instead," Carl mentioned, pulling a monofilament blade from his proportionally small pocket. "Linc, I say we screen her and let her give me the order to whack him and shove him into the sewer."

"Already did. Instead of killing him, she wants to meet him in person."

"What?!"

"Wacky biach. Why ya no' make her screen him?"

"Do I look stupid? I mentioned that possibility, but she insisted. I told her she was crazy. You know Sonya."

"Only thing I know about her hollowed-out head is she slug-thinks sometimes."

"How soon before the drug wears off?"

"No' sure. I jus' gave him everything. No' know his me'abolism."

"Ain't no matter."

"True. Let's strip and scan him," Linc the bartender commanded.

"If'n he go' even a finger nail file you may jus' haffa 'ell Sonya he go' an acci'en'."

Tony let his body slump back to the floor, a much more natural state considering the tingling across most of his muscles. The rasping of Suet's monochromic tentacles against his skin a few moments later nearly broke his facade. The mechanical arms made short work of his clothing without the niceties of unfastening them. Despite the rush of air against his bare skin, Tony remained still.

"Scan's 'one. He's got an ancien' min' jack and a mech han' with a three go gauss gun with very shor' range. A self 'efense gun, but 'ook the ammo. He wasn' aim'n for Sonya with tha'."

"He coulda if he got her close enough to use it. I still say vape him."

"We see," said the female voice as Tony felt the tentacles around his throat. Certainly those green monstrosities could snap his neck as easily as a pretzel. Instead he felt another tentacle around his waist. They lifted him and almost as quickly dropped him a meter or so to collapse in the bottom of some container. Even through his closed eyes he could see the frail light being stolen away. Opening his eyes didn't change his visual information input-darkness. A cursory touch examination defined his cage well enough-a cylindrical plastisteel shipping container, usually used for carrying liquids. m.u.f.fled, the conversation continued on outside. He caught the meaning even if he missed every fifth word or so.

"Suet and I will take this one with us. You check his apartment and then call us. I'll drive us around for two hours. That should give you enough time. If there's no cat then this one will fall out of the air truck. Sonya can punish me if she wants, but we're going to keep her safe."

"Agreed."

After a rough loading onto a vehicle, Tony searched with his bound hands, rubbing over the entirety of the interior. He felt nothing but smooth surface with no purchase, no weak point, no opening, and nothing to use as a tool or weapon. He leaned back and sensed the truck's motion, but the ride flowed so smoothly he often couldn't tell if they moved or not, much less the direction.

With his options exactly zero, he followed the advice his grandfather once gave him. "Tony, if you ever find yourself in a position that you can't do anything...sleep."

"Wake up in there. There's no way the drug we slipped you lasted five hours." Tony recognized the juice-tender's voice-Linc.

"I'm awake," Tony muttered groggily. "Why do you want me awake if you aren't going to let me out?"

"There's someone here that..."

A low and pleasantly feminine voice interrupted. "Let him out."

"But you're too important-"

"Let him out," she said in a calm but firm voice. Quickly the barrel upended, dumping him none too gently onto a carpeted floor that smelled of urine. "But that other one. He's a bounty hunter. We are well shut of him."

"Hey, I'm not a bounty hunter," Tony heard m.u.f.fled from another barrel identical to his own. "You can trust me. I can prove-"

The bark of some high-tech weapon sounded, followed by silence. Tony tried not to think what that meant, but his mind fantasized a suitably terrifying outcome in spite of itself. At that moment Tony decided his nakedness would be fine until they decided he should have something to wear.

"Thank you, I think," Tony said finally. He put his feet beneath him, but decided that sitting on the floor he posed a lesser threat. While others stood closely behind him, Tony only had eyes for an extremely tall, gaunt woman who decided on only half a hairstyle, the other side of her head bare of anything but undecipherable glyphs. She wore a simple, white linen dress that didn't disguise the tattoos covering the majority of her body. He wouldn't have given her a second look if he'd b.u.mped into her on the TriMet, but here she unconsciously demanded attention. Tony found his body and mind reacting in unexpected ways.

"Welcome, Tony. I'll be blunt and hope you will be as well. I so dislike wasting time." Each Hispanic-accented word rolled off her tongue as if precisely cut by a laser. Tony managed to close his mouth and nod. "Good. I'd offer you some clothes, but no matter the outcome, you won't be here long enough to offend anyone's dignity."

"Why am I here?"

The woman with skin the color of well-polished oak looked at him with the contempt one reserved for someone who'd pa.s.sed gas in the confines of the TriMet. "Why don't you tell me that?"

"I was told I could find Sonya at the Arcade Aerobics. As they talked about you while I was trussed up and nominally asleep, I'll a.s.sume that you're Sonya."

"One must guess and guess correctly in life to survive," she said cryptically. "You have exactly one minute to tell me why you wanted to speak to Sonya. If I'm not convinced, you'll not only not be allowed to speak to her, you can join that bad rubbish over there-or worse, we might just bury you alive."

"I have to say that normally I'd be afraid of such talk. I probably would've even been offended by such outright threats, but this hasn't been an ordinary few days. To be honest, that seems like the sweetest thing anyone's said to me. OK. You said be blunt, so I will. In brief, I want to join the Green Action Militia."

He ignored the chuckles. Every instinct screamed that he must convince the woman in front of him, not the clowns behind him.

"Why should we trust you? What reason do we have to trust you?"

Honesty before deceit, Tony thought. "You shouldn't, and you have none. I could give you a song and dance about the c.r.a.p thrown at me over the last two days, but it could just be another corpie setup to try and trap-"

"We have to move," said a voice behind him. "If he's bugged, your time is up. They'll be onto the Faraday cage gimmick if they're quick."

"I must say you haven't given me much, corpie. I won't lie. My inclination is to have you disappear."

"Don' be quick," came the dangerously silky voice of the green-gemmed girl. "He has a furry." Sitting on her left tentacle rode Cin bearing all the dignity of the Egyptian cat G.o.ddess, Bast.

"Cin!" Tony exclaimed. The brightly colored cat jumped down and marched properly over to her person. She brushed up against Tony with an air of ownership before examining the rest of the room's occupants.

The tattooed woman bent down to offered her finger to Cin. The calico sniffed it daintily and gave it a gentle lick before returning to grooming her reddish coat. "A very handsome creature."

"Thank you."

"You can leave us now," she off-handedly commanded the other three, not taking her eyes off the tiny bather.

"But Sonya, if he or the cat is bugged..."

"We'll move shortly. The cage should buy us at least a few minutes. Leave us!"

"Yes, Sonya," Linc offered meekly, gathering Carl and Suet by eye before drifting out through a door. Tony caught tiny noises just outside the door, placing her three compatriots with the accuracy of a life detector. Sonya flowed as if boneless down into a lotus position on the floor next to the tiny kitten. Her fingers played over the cat's spine, eliciting closed eyes and deep rumblings.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced. My name is Sonya."

"Uh, Tony. Tony Sammis."

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An Eighty Percent Solution Part 7 summary

You're reading An Eighty Percent Solution. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Thomas Gondolfi. Already has 526 views.

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