Black Hole Sun by David Macinnis Gill Read Free Book Online

legs and sports a shaved head and a mug so spotted with ancient acne scars, it looks like the surface of Deimos. “Uh. Fuse? What’s it that I’m saying right to?”
    â€œDon’t fuss your pretty noggin about it,” Fuse says.
    Jenkins leans against the side of the building. His symbiarmor shirt is tied around his waist, and the sleeves of his undershirt are rolled up to reveal his pulpy biceps. He’s got a square nose and a boxy chin punctuated with a goatee. Left ear pierced multiple times. Broad shoulders and chest and wears a leather jacket over his armor.
    Vienne frowns at him. “It’s against the Tenets to bare yourself in public. Cover up.”
    â€œIf I do that”—Jenkins pulls the shirt over his bald head—“the ladies won’t be able to admire my guns.”
    â€œIf those are guns,” Fuse teases, “then you’re shooting blanks.”
    â€œBest stop vexing me before I get upset. You know whathappened last time I went feral.” He opens his mouth. Taps a bicuspid corresponding with Fuse’s missing one.
    Fuse rolls his eyes. “One lucky punch, and the great gob thinks he’s a regular pugilist. What he’s not telling you duckies is that it took the blighter sixteen roundhouses to make contact, and even then, I had to do a spill over a—”
    â€œLook,” I say, exasperated, “if she lets you buy the meal, would you shut your carking yap?”
    â€œAffirmative, chief.”
    â€œVienne, accept his offer.”
    â€œIs that an order?”
    â€œYes! Accept before I have to gag him.”
    â€œThat would be fun to watch.”
    â€œVienne!”
    â€œI accept. Reluctantly.”
    Fuse whoops. “Works every time.”
    â€œThere’s a fib,” Jenkins snorts. “It’s never worked before.”
    â€œWanker!”
    â€œFossiker!”
    â€œShut up now,” I warn them both. “Or the deal’s off.”
    Fuse pantomimes a zip sealing his lips. “Sutting upth nowm.”
    â€œThanks be to the bishop!” I pile the coin on the table. Half I give to Vienne and the other half to Fuse for hacking into the system that controls the space elevators. Annoying he may be, but when it comes to machines, he’s a right clever jack. He’s also a great demolitionist, from what I hear.
    â€œWhere’s your cut, chief?” Fuse asks as I slide his pile across the table.
    My share of the coin is already encumbered. “I spent it.”
    â€œFree with the financials, no?” Fuse says. “Spent it all on the ladies, no doubt. And a man with your looks, too. You’d think they’d be swarming about you like flies. It’s the pinkie, I expect. Not many ladies have got interest in a dalit —Ow! My ear!”
    Vienne has it folded between her thumb and index finger. I count to sixty before ordering her to let go. She gives the ear a twist for good measure and smacks him on the make of the head.
    I flip an extra coin onto the table. “Vienne, get these hardworking Regulators a liter of aqua pura . My treat.”
    â€œHeewack!” Jenkins shouts. “Let’s hit the cantina!”
    â€œDon’t hit it too hard,” I call as he bounds up the steps to the cantina’s front door.
    â€œYou, also. Go!” Vienne orders Fuse to follow Jenkins. He runs up the stairs, too, his heavy boots clanging on the metal treads. When he’s out of earshot, she leans closer to me and puts her hands on the table. For some reason, my palms start to sweat.
    â€œ I know the reason your palms are sweating,” Mimi chimes in.
    â€œStow it.” I spin a coin on the table. It keeps my hands busy. “No comments from the peanut gallery.”
    Vienne tilts her head toward me. Her brow knits and herlips rub together in thought, then she snatches the spinning coin. “You’re not joining me? I would enjoy—”
    My