“It’s weird you didn’t get them done before,” Kaden said as he nuzzled up closer behind Aldin and cupped one of his breasts. They were no longer feminine, exactly, especially considering the rest of Aldin’s physique. The hormones made him wiry, and gave him a dusting of light brown body hair that trailed down to his newer, more overtly masculine anatomy. His breasts were out of place, a relic left over from the old body.

Aldin smirked and stretched, arching his back like a bow as he rolled onto his back make his chest all the more apparent. “Are you saying you object to a man with tits?”

With a grin, Kaden sat up to rest on his elbow. “Not at all. It’s just weird you kept them is all. Most guys get them taken care of first thing and worry about the other bits later.” He gestured lower. “Can’t say I’m complaining about the result.”

“That’s because you’re a pervert.”

“I’m a lover of ambiguity.”

Aldin didn’t say that he hadn’t been able to afford the full package, or that once they were across the border and cashed in with Joli, he’d be off to the first good picosurgeon he could find. That sort of talk strayed too close to actual intimacy. Instead, he nipped at Kaden’s bottom lip. “So get on with it. Love my ambiguity.”

“And they say romance is –”

The bed shook, rumbled by the creak and crash of splintering wood and the shockwave of something else much louder. Even the rumble of a fallen bookcase was muffled by the ringing in Aldin’s ears as he scrambled over the edge of the bed to take cover and reach for his gun. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a Prefecture assault uniform in the haze.

Prefecture. Not local Authority, or even a bounty boy. Big guns. Shit.

Aldin groped for his pistol on the nightstand, fumbled it, and swore as it tumbled to the floor. One of the troops shouted something indistinct, but the report of rifle fire was clear enough. Aldin hurled the hotel lamp toward the bedroom door and dove for his gun. This time his hand closed on the grip and he whipped up to line up his shot.

“I wouldn’t.”

The familiar snap of Kaden’s gun slide made Aldin flinch, glance over. He wished almost immediately that he hadn’t.

Naked save for the dust of the explosion, Kaden stood flanked by a pair of Prefecture troops. He grinned, smug as he joined them in training his weapon on Aldin. “You might want to put that thing away before someone starts feeling threatened.”

Aldin’s hand tightened on his pistol grip. “Bit late for that, don’t you think?”

“I meant someone who matters.”

Aldin’s eyes didn’t leave Kaden’s as he tried to get his bearings. There were four troops in view – two with Kaden and two near the doorway – which probably meant more elsewhere in the hotel or outside. Probably both. Aldin held his aim. “What did they offer you? Can’t have been much just for me. Like you said, I’m not that important.”

“Not you. Joli.”

Aldin snorted. “Yeah right. Joli’s not going to come running into the Prefecture on my account. She’s smart enough to cut her losses.”

“That’s why I’ll be leading them to her,” Kaden said. He tilted his head to indicate the silver case that sat by the bedroom door.

“You’re making the drop?” Aldin blinked.

“They’re already sat-damping the whole area around the drop point. No comms in or out. There’s a whole shock team in the mountains already waiting to follow her home. Her whole operation…” He snapped his fingers and winked.

“And me?”

“You’re just a bonus,” Kaden said with a shrug.

Aldin let out a breath and took his finger off the trigger. Carefully, he raised his hands in surrender. The two troopers next to Kaden kept their weapons at the ready, but the two in the doorway relaxed. One of them stepped in with a set of restraints. Aldin closed his eyes, squeezed the grip of his pistol one last time, and dropped his gun.

The pistol’s grip split open on impact. The panic mechanism exploded in a strobing light and a thick puff of acrid dust. Aldin dropped low and rolled as Kaden’s two troopers opened fire. Someone – probably Kaden, hopefully Kaden – let out a pained shout, like he’d got the dust in his eyes. That tiny victory was enough for Aldin. He charged in the direction of the door and the Prefecture trooper who blocked it.

Aldin’s shoulder crunched into armor as his tackle hit home. The trooper stumbled. Aldin took advantage, grabbed for the helmet, and bashed the trooper’s face into the doorframe. He or she – it was always hard to tell through a Prefecture uniform – let go of the rifle. Aldin made a grab for it, yanked it free, and bolted naked into the corridor.

As he ran for the stairwell, he made a list. One, a naked man (especially one with his particular characteristics) would draw a hell of a lot of attention. Two, communications. His earbud was back in the room with Kaden, but even if he had it there was no guarantee he could get through to anyone useful. Which led to three, transportation to get to the drop point. He couldn’t trust his own; if Kaden had planned this, that meant the Dart was probably wired already. He’d need another vehicle, and fast.

“So much for this being my last job before that last round of picosurgery,” Aldin muttered as he ran. This was definitely not the way he’d envisioned his debut as a shirtless man. His tits were fucking killing him.

At least he had a gun.

New shots peppered the corridor behind him as he slammed into the stairwell. He led with the rifle as he ran down the steps. Below, he spotted a hint of Prefecture uniform. By the sound of it, though, there were plenty more. He darted into the next floor’s corridor and tried to get his bearings.

The spokes of the New London Hotel were more or less identical save that they mirrored one another. The central hub housed stairwells, with a garden and a jumpship bay every tenth floor. Anywhere else it might be posh, but in a transport Hub like Gann’s Landing, it was simply convenient. With so many strangers in and out, he and Kaden looked like another pair of travelers.

Aldin gritted his teeth and bashed a fist against the wall. He’d trusted Kaden, and now he was pretty much screwed. The whole blasted place could be swarming with police by now, and–

“Sorry, but if you don’t mind, some of us are trying to sleep.”

Aldin brought the rifle up in the same motion as his glare. The man in the doorway froze, startled just long enough for Aldin to step forward and shove him backwards. Aldin pushed into the room and closed the door behind them. “I’d really, really like it if you didn’t scream,” he said. “Now kneel. Hands behind your head.”

The man struggled a bit with his open dressing gown, but did as he was told. He was a little heavy compared to Aldin, but bigger clothes were better than small. Probably not a cop, judging by the way he looked at the gun. Pale. Odd accent.

Aldin scanned the room. His eyes went immediately to the small, open closet. He grabbed a pair of trousers and a shirt more or less at random. “What’s your name?”

“Ortzi,” he answered, voice barely above a stage whisper.

“Hello, Ortzi. What do you do?”

“M-mediation. Relationship counseling.” His attention was still firmly on the gun. “Please don’t kill me.”

Aldin smiled as he stepped into the trousers. “And why would I want to do that when we can work together, hm? Tell me, Ortzi, have you got a jumpship?”

He nodded. “A rental.”

“And where is it parked?”

“Up on sixty.”

“And how much longer are you booked for this room?”

“Two, um. Two more days.”

“Good.” Aldin reached into the closet and pulled out another set of clothes. He threw them at Ortzi, who caught them. “Then you’ve got plenty of time to do me a little favor. Ever been to the mountains, Ortzi?”

Ortzi shook his head. “I’m an offworlder. I’m only visiting.”

Well. That explained the accent. He gestured with the rifle. “Get dressed.” Aldin kept his attention and his rifle on Ortzi as best he could as he put on a shirt.

“My clients will wonder where I am,” Ortzi said as he did up the closures of his trousers.

“Enough to complain, maybe,” Aldin said and let a lazy smile cross his face. “But a few hours isn’t enough to call the local authority over, though. Am I right?”

Ortzi didn’t answer.

“Get your travel documents,” Aldin said as he adjusted his shirt. It fit strangely over his breasts, and he cursed the loss of his own clothes. He’d have killed for a contouring undershirt right about now. He left the shirt tails loose. Ortzi had a handful of light cloth scarves, and Aldin chose one. He wrapped it around his head and his face in a loose approximation of the way he’d seen a courtesan do once. If he was lucky, he’d be mistaken for an escort. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed it hid his short hair and his stubble, at least.

Ortzi cleared his throat. “That’s everything, I think.”

Aldin smiled, picked up Ortzi’s ear bud, and slid into his overcoat. “Good. Let’s go.”

*

Sixty was twelve floors up, and seven floors up from where Aldin had started. The Prefecture troops had last seen him heading down, but in the short time he’d been in Ortzi’s room, they’d fanned out into small patrols of two or three.

Each time they passed one, Aldin wondered if the rifle was visible through the thick insulation of Ortzi’s overcoat. He wondered if Ortzi would muster the courage to cry for help, and waited for the inevitable moment when a patrol would stop them to search them and check their papers. Luck was with them, though. The patrols they passed seemed more interested in individual passers-by. A businessman and his escort didn’t seem to trouble them.

“Am I driving?” Ortzi asked quietly as they entered the jumpship bay.

“To start. Until we’re out of the city.”

“And then?”

“Then we switch.” Aldin used Ortzi’s keys to unlock the light blue vehicle. It was nice, but not quite luxury. Businesslike, he guessed. He let Ortzi into the front seat and took his own spot in the back. He kept the rifle mostly concealed under the overcoat, but slid enough of the barrel free to poke Ortzi in the ribs when he handed over the keys. “Now drive.”

“That isn’t very descriptive.” Ortzi frowned at him in the cabin mirror.

Aldin’s brow knitted. “Excuse me?”

“Where am I going? Offworlder, remember? I’ve only got today’s business programmed into the nav unit, and –” Ortzi’s forced calm cracked a little, like he’d realized the position he was in and had finally decided it was desperate.

“Just get us up to lane level,” Aldin said and sighed. Underneath the heavy overcoat he let his finger drop from the trigger.

Ortzi swallowed and nodded. The jump ship wobbled as its low-altitude engines engaged and it began to hover. Ortzi piloted it along a trail of yellow lights that indicated a safe merging flight path: one trail down to local and street level, another up to the express flight lanes used for private transport.

As they rose, the city of Gann’s Landing became a visible sprawl beneath them, its arms stretched along commuter and transport rail lines. Far to the north, a line of mountains were only just visible as a dark line on the horizon. The jump ship’s nav panel lit up to display the current lane, and a series of regional routes.

“268 to 72,” Aldin told him, and watched as Ortzi programmed the route. Finally satisfied that they’d made it past the authorities, he pushed the scarf back and uncovered his face before he climbed up into the front passenger seat. “Now set it to auto and give me your hands,” he said as he unwound the scarf into his hands.

“Why?”

“Because we’re trading places,” Aldin answered. The rifle was slung over his shoulder beneath the coat, but the muzzle poked out from under the fabric. He saw Ortzi give it a glance before he held out his hands. Aldin used the scarf to bind Ortzi’s wrists together and then watched him climb back into the rear seat.

“You can’t point your gun at me back here,” he said quietly.

Aldin slid into the pilot’s seat and glanced back in one of the mirrors. “See? We’re getting along better already.”

Ortzi just looked out the window.

The ship’s media and navigation system was designed well enough that Aldin could guess at the controls. As he adjusted the auto-nav route, he wondered how Kaden was traveling. Curious, he clicked through local media news feeds looking for any reports of the hotel raid. He wasn’t surprised to discover that there weren’t any.

“Disappointed you didn’t make the headlines?”

Aldin snorted and set the tuner to scan through music feeds instead. “We’ll be in flight for a while. You might as well make yourself comfortable.”

“Do you really think that’s likely?”

“I think you’d prefer it to your other options.”

Ortzi didn’t reply. After a few minutes, Aldin settled deeper into his seat. “I guess you’re not a very good mediator, huh?”

“You’re not exactly my target demographic.”

Aldin’s jaw tightened. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “Oh? And which demographic is that?”

“Married, mainly.”

“Oh.” Aldin stared ahead through the windscreen. He could see the faintest hint of his own reflection in the glass, and he glared at it. Ortzi’s clothes made him look uncomfortably curvy, and the contours of the glass tricked his face into seeming rounder and softer than it was.

Behind him, Ortzi shifted position. “You thought I meant something else.”

“You didn’t exactly meet me at my best.”

“I’d guessed.”

To their right, a pair of local authority enforcement drones whizzed past. Aldin tensed until they were out of view.

“On Ura, they call it ‘shedding the skin.’ When you choose one or the other. There are traditions around it, though I think some of them are drifting out of fashion now that that the central government’s gone diplomatic.” Ortzi shrugged. “There’s nothing shameful–”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Aldin snapped and turned the music up.

*

The mountains loomed heavy to the east as they made the switch onto 72. It was still a while before they’d arrive at the designated drop, but already the media feeds in the jumpship were starting to crackle with interference. Aldin hoped that the damping field would be enough to make Joli call the whole thing off, or that Kaden would get cocky and blow the drop, but neither seemed very likely. Up ahead, he saw the barrage of lights that marked the border between Colm and Weymouth Prefectures, and a long trail of smaller clusters that suggested a long back-up.

The nav panel flickered red. “BORDER CHECK,” it read. “PLEASE HAVE TRAVEL DOCUMENTS READY.”

Aldin slowed the ship and cursed under his breath. He checked the local nav paths, but they’d missed the last legal exit point. If they were within sight of a check point, there would be drones in the air watching for illegal drops.

“Trouble?” Ortzi asked?

“Something like that.” He punched in a news channel. A blue-clad anchorwoman in front of a Weymouth flag described a terrorist attack aimed at taking down communications. While suspects were in custody, authorities were apparently taking measures to ensure safety for all commuters.

Aldin turned off the feed and stared at the lights as they moved closer. Maybe he could cut the engines entirely, fake a mechanical fault–

“Switch back with me,” Ortzi said from behind him and raised his still-bound wrists.

“What?”

“Just trust me,” Ortzi said, and held out his hands.

Aldin turned around in his seat. The expression on Ortzi’s face wasn’t the stoicism he’d shown at the hotel. It wasn’t anything like the look on Kaden’s face when he was lying, either. Aldin reached back, untied Ortzi’s wrists, and moved to the passenger seat. He waited until Ortzi was situated in the driving seat before he took his original space in the rear.

“All right,” Ortzi said. “Put the scarf back on.”

“I wish you’d tell me what the hell you think you’re doing,” Aldin muttered as he smoothed the fabric as best he could.

“If this works, we’ll both owe one another explanations,” Ortzi said. “For now, be quiet.”

Aldin covered his face and hid the rifle in the folds of the overcoat.

Drones hovered in a massive three-dimensional formation as the jumpship approached the barricade. They diverted traffic into several tiers as it drew closer to the Prefecture platforms.

Ortzi reached into his pocket and picked out his travel papers.

“If you think they aren’t going to notice you have a passenger–”

Ortzi shushed him as a pair of patrollers moved alongside. Before they could speak, though, Ortzi began to berate them in an unfamiliar language. He held up his papers as if they were some sort of pass.

The second patroller’s hand rested on a heavy pistol. The first, though, made conciliatory gestures and raised the visor on his helmet. He tried to mime that Ortzi should give over his papers for inspection. After a moment, Ortzi did.

The trooper paged through, as if confirming the usual, and then paused. He looked Aldin’s way, and then back down at the page. After a second, he gave Ortzi back his papers and began apologizing slowly and loudly, as if volume would compensate for the apparent language barrier. “Sir, if I’d had any idea that Her Excellency was on board…” Behind him, the second trooper had radioed in to plot an additional lane. Within minutes, they were ushered across the border by a small escort to resume their route on 72.

Once their escort was out of view, Ortzi turned around and smiled. He tossed his travel papers into the back, where Aldin caught them.

Aldin’s jaw dropped.”You’re mediator to the Prime Minister of Ura and her husband?”

Ortzi shrugged. “You never asked.”

“Normally, that would be the sort of thing I’d think you’d shout at me while I’m kidnapping you,” Aldin said, and handed the papers back.

“And risk a ransom? I think not.” Ortzi looked back at him through the cabin mirror. “So now that we’re approaching the verdant mountains of Weymouth, I believe you owe me a bit of an explanation yourself.”

Aldin unwound the scarf and folded it, then left it in a neat pile on the seat next to him. He sat back against the corner of the seat where it met the rear doors and pulled a foot up onto the seat. “This was supposed to be my last job. I was supposed to retire.”

“From?”

“I’m an art thief.”

Ortzi’s eyebrows shot up. “Ah.”

“It’s hard, here. They don’t treat this—” Aldin gestured at his chest— “like it’s urgent. If you’re born wrong and need to cross over, you’re on your own. I couldn’t find work without having to be her again. And then Kaden came along.”

“Kaden?”

“My partner. Business mainly, but we dabble. He didn’t know I was pulling out of the operation. He’s sold out to the Prefecture and going after our boss, Joli. I’m trying to get to her first so I can warn her.”

“You couldn’t just call ahead?”

Aldin gestured at the sky. “Sat-damping.”

“Ah.” Ortzi closed his eyes, as if deep in thought. “This Joli must mean a great deal to you.”

“She gave me work and called me by my right name even though I’m unfinished. That’s more than I can expect from a lot of people.” Aldin shifted in his seat. He felt too warm, weighed down all of a sudden in Ortzi’s heavy coat. “Why did you help me? You’re…well, you’re the mediator to a foreign Prime Minister. You should have turned me in.”

Ortzi unbuttoned the left cuff of his shirt and pulled the fabric back so that Aldin could see the thick black tattoo that circled his wrist. “As I said. On Ura, we have traditions. Marking those who shed their skins is one of them. I’m glad, for the most part, to see those old traditions changing. New women and men, unmarked and unremarked upon. It’s a social good. I suppose I imagined that a man like you might be desperate for a reason.”

Aldin chuckled and shook his head. “The gods must have a sense of humor.”

Ortzi smiled. “I think the gods are always laughing. Now, tell me how to find your friend Joli.”

*

Aldin spotted the Dart among the other vehicles outside the transit stop right away. He’d long since moved to the front passenger seat of the jumpship. The overcoat and the rifle waited in the back.

“Something wrong?” Ortzi asked as he eased off the lane to circle the stop.

“Kaden’s here.”

“It’s still early?”

“Yeah, but just a bit. She’ll be expecting both of us, but all he really has to do is call down the wolves once she arrives.”

“But how will he call them?” Ortzi asked. “If they’ve sat-damped the area, he won’t be making any calls.”

“Which means he’s got some alternate means of signaling the local authority. All I need to do is stop him.” Aldin looked over at Ortzi. “You shouldn’t stay. If something goes wrong, you won’t be a bystander.”

Ortzi continued circling in the air as if considering the parking available to him. After a moment he reached back into the rear seat, then handed Aldin the scarf. “For luck.”

Aldin took the scarf. By the time Ortzi had landed to drop him off, he’d disguised himself once more. He took the coat and gun as well at Ortzi’s insistence. Whether or not Kaden would mistake him for a stranger in these clothes was anybody’s guess, but the rifle under his coat was a comfort if nothing else. He pushed open the doors to the transit stop and stepped inside.

As last stands went, the transit stop was pathetic. It was a bland, rectangular building with the inside done entirely in cheap brick tiles and utilitarian tubular metal. One wall was lined with lockers and vending machines. At the back, Aldin spotted a dingy café.

He noticed Kaden’s jacket instantly, though even without it he’d have known that slump and laugh anywhere. Across the counter from him a slender young waitress giggled and toyed with her hair. Aside from what looked like a small family of highway nomads hunkered down at a table in the corner, the place was empty.

The silver case sat on the floor near Kaden’s feet. In twenty minutes, Joli would arrive. She’d sit next to Kaden with an identical case of her own and place it next to his. When he got up, he’d take hers away with him. When she got up she’d take his. And, Aldin guessed, a tracking device set to pinpoint her position the moment the dampening field let up. Kaden, meanwhile, would walk away clean with the cash and his precious immunity, the bastard.

Aldin sat down in the seat nearest the case. He tapped at the counter to get the waitress’ attention and mimed for a drink. Beside him, Kaden turned to look at him, but Aldin pretended not to notice. A minute later, the girl put a mug of tea down on the counter in front of him. He gestured his thanks and cupped it in his hands.

Kaden and the waitress went back to their chatter.

Aldin was conscious of how he sat, legs together and back straight as he tried to work out a plan. The old postures felt strange in his half-finished body; his muscles were bulkier, and the fat of his body didn’t settle so much around his hips. Still, Kaden seemed convinced. Aldin glanced down at the case.

If he could slide it over, it was possible he could make a break for it. If Kaden noticed, Aldin could do his damnedest to make the sort of scene that Joli was careful to avoid. He was ready to ease a leg down, maybe try to slide the case closer with his foot, when Kaden reached down and moved it to the other side.

Shit.

The rifle under his coat felt heavier, more urgent. As much as he’d started this journey in battle, he didn’t feel at all eager to end it there. Plus, if he could, he wanted to be sure Kaden suffered for being a back-stabbing prick. He looked up at the clock. Fifteen minutes.

Aldin loosened the scarf to sip his tea and listened as Kaden and the girl wittered on and on. Aldin wondered sourly if she realized he was seducing her, and that by the end of the afternoon he’d have her up on one of the restroom basins with her skirt pushed up over her hips.

Five minutes.

The waitress looked up at the sound of another pair of footsteps. Aldin turned to look as well, careful to keep his face hidden in the folds of the scarf as he did so. His jaw dropped.

Ortzi entered with a leather business case in his hand. He didn’t spare anyone else a second look on his way to the transit stop’s increasingly crowded café bar. When he sat down on Kaden’s other side, he was careful to drop the bag between them before he reached across the counter for a menu.

Kaden turned. “Hey, that spot’s taken.”

“Excuse me?” Ortzi barely looked up from his menu.

“That stool,” Kaden said, and gestured at Ortzi. “Where you’re sitting. I’m saving it for somebody else.”

Ortzi looked around, lips pursed. His eyebrows ticked up as he did. He looked comical, a clueless child in a man’s body. “I didn’t realize transit stop cafés had reserved seating.” He went back to his menu.

Aldin saw the way Kaden tensed up. He’d always telegraphed his anger like an animal, leering and large with the promise of death in his teeth. Ortzi looked back up and scoffed quietly. Kaden pushed him.

Two minutes.

Aldin stood. The waitress was too occupied trying to defuse the growing brawl that she didn’t notice him as he hurried across the nearly empty transport station. Nor did she notice the woman he pulled aside as she entered, or their brief conversation before the two of them stepped outside.

*

Ten minutes later, Ortzi emerged with a split lip.

“That was foolish and dangerous,” Aldin grumbled as they walked toward Ortzi’s jump ship. “You could have been killed.”

Ortzi dabbed at his face with a paper napkin. “This from the man who insists on crossing a border to tell his fence that she’s being set up.”

“We should go. The minute Kaden realizes Joli’s gone he’s going to be pissed.”

“And to think, he seemed so placid.” Ortzi crumpled the napkin and tucked it in his pocket. He unlocked the door to his jumpship. “So. Where do you go from here?”

Aldin put his hands in the pockets of the overcoat. “I should probably find some clothes of my own, for a start.”

“And then?”

“No idea,” Aldin said. “I told Joli I’m going off-world while the heat dies down. Not sure I really will, but it may be best to get out of the business for a while. Maybe I’ll see if I can finally get myself finished. You?”

“Oh, back to work for me, I should think. Not that it’s work, mind you. Her Excellency is really quite happy in her relationship. She keeps me on retainer to satisfy her mother. I get a lot of reading done.”

“So you’ve got plenty of time to give me a ride,” Aldin said, and jogged around to the passenger side of the jumpship.

Ortzi shook his head laughed quietly as he settled in to the driving seat and unlocked Aldin’s door.

---

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About the Author

C.A. Young lives and writes in Columbia, Missouri. His work has most recently appeared on the Twitter e-zine Thaumatrope, as well as in Coscom Entertainment’s anthology Vicious Verses and Reanimated Rhymes: Zany Zombie Poetry for the Undead Head. You can find him online at http://www.dimlightarchive.com.