Hard Luck Hank Screw the Galaxy(77)

“Sure,” I said, “I’ll take the job.” I got paid significantly less than that for executing a gang boss. Unless she was cheating with Delovoa’s robot and Jyonal and Wallow, and all of them were jealous of me finding out, I was absolutely not concerned.

“Thank you. You are my savior. My beacon.” He kneeled before me.

I put out my hand to shake.

“It’s okay.”

He looked at my hand distastefully and the assistant walked over quickly and turned me towards the stairs.

“I can get you her last contact information,” she said.

I looked back over my shoulder and saw the celebrity standing with his hand on his hip, drinking heartily from a bottle. The bookkeeper was near him talking in a voice I couldn’t hear.



I didn’t really need the money, especially now when I had a lot of explaining to do about what I already owned. But it’s hard to pass up good deals. It’s in our nature. Like Grever Treest buying all those drugs or even Delovoa buying what he thought was a broken robot.

It was a little too late for social calls, but she was only five blocks away, which was like twenty grand per block walked.

It was another converted building, but this one was made into upscale apartments. There were armed guards outside who wouldn’t let you in without a key or invitation. They even knew me and wouldn’t let me in, though they weren’t comfortable about it.

“Look guys, I’m going in. If you shoot me, I’ll shoot you back. I promise I’m not here to cause trouble. I just need to talk to someone.”

A few more guards came out and they all conversed. They wore bright red, long jackets with white gloves and fancy hats. Two were pretty old. They looked a lot more used to holding open doors and carrying bags than getting into gun battles.

“Who is it you’re coming to see, Hank?” one of the older men asked.

Ah good, a man of reason.

“Tejj-jo,” I said.

“Is she home?” he asked his colleagues, and I could tell they were thinking about what to say.

“If she’s not, I’m just going to sit up there until she comes. And send a tele out to some friends to let me know if they spot her.”

“Do you mind if one of us comes with you?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Because she will feel more comfortable with us around, I think,” he said delicately.

Yeah, I could see that. He was a pretty smart doorman.

“Well, the only problem is she’s going to expect you to throw me out. And when you don’t, you’re going to get fired,” I answered after much contemplation.

The guards discussed this.

“And you’re not here to hurt her or anything?” he asked.

“Or rob her?” a younger guard asked.

“Rob her?” I asked indignantly. I held up my hand in an oath pose. “I won’t even ruffle her hair.”

The guards talked some more. I could see one of the younger guys was anxious for a fight. He was in the wrong business. The others seemed to be trying to explain the situation.

“Can we ask what this is regarding?”

I figured doing a little name-dropping might help.

“I’m working for Two Clem,” I said.

They all groaned. Some cussed. Not everyone appreciates celebrities, I guess.

Finally, the old guard spoke.

“She’s on the third floor, suite seven. We’ll buzz you in.”

The inside of the building was very nice. Not too flashy.

I was mildly worried they would lock the elevator once I was in it, but I was tired of stairs. And the smart ones probably knew I could just tele about a hundred guys to come over and kill them.

I got to suite seven and buzzed. The door opened after a moment. I heard the peals of numerous women laughing behind the face of a truly beautiful female at the door.

“Yes?” she said.

“Uh, I’m looking for Tejj-jo,” I said.

“Jo, some guy here for you,” she said, as she walked from the door.

I figured I should take this opportunity and I entered the apartment.

The home was wealthy. Richly appointed. Artwork and expensive furniture all over. I got the sense a gang boss lived here, or at the very least visited.

“Hello?” said another truly beautiful woman, who walked towards me. She had extremely long auburn hair with exaggerated curls. Her figure was impressive and she wore light, flowing clothes. Even her voice was attractive. She had poise and confidence as she approached this unknown man in sandals who had entered unasked into her home.

There were four other women in the apartment. They were apparently drinking and in high spirits. They were all absurdly good-looking. It was like some kind of model convention.

“Hi,” I said uneasily. “I’m hoping we can talk.”