Twinks in Space: Fantastic Voyage - Part Two - 45. Chapter 45 - Young Quigley, Part 2

On the third floor of Pickle’s Place, the woman who called herself Pickle was in her quiet office going over her financials, when there was a knock on the door. She looked up and called out, “Enter.”

One of the club’s bouncers stuck his head in and grunted, “Someone here to see you, miss.”

“Send them in.”

A very young man entered, and the bouncer closed the door again.

“What’s your name?” Pickle asked. Her clever eyes moved over him, assessing every inch of the stranger.

He was tall, muscular, and appeared to be on the cusp of twenty. Pickle thought the individual seemed a little immature for what she suspected he was there for, but she had taught many young men the arts of love over the years. This young man was dressed in fitted leathers, and he looked sexy to Pickle.

“I’m Quigley.”

Pickle gave him a sultry smile. “Well it’s more than a pleasure to meet you, wiggly Quigley, and how old are you, my lovely?”

“Seventeen,” Quigley declared, realizing maybe he should have said he was a bit older, but he looked at the mature woman with confidence.

“Oh, my boy,” Pickle replied with a chuckle, “you’re too young for me, but tell me about yourself, and maybe we can find you someone closer to your own age to give you a naughty tumble.”

Quigley deflated. Even though he did not realize how far out of his league Pickle was, Quigley thought that gaining access to his two targets would only happen by pleasuring the woman, as Uloo had implied. However, Pickle did not seem to be considering Quigley as a possible lover.

She noticed his change of demeanor, and Pickle did not hold back her laugh, which made Quigley sag even more. “Sugar,” she said with a wide smile, “you’re cute. Where you from?”

“Do you know the Holy Fount?”

Pickle shot Quigley an amused look. “Fancy yourself a bounty hunter, do you? And yes, I know about the Holy Halls. I don’t know where the Holy Fount is, but there’s a tracker tavern called the Holy Stone here in town. You should drop in and say hello to your fellow hunters. Maybe they’ve got a gig for you. Anyway, where’s the Holy Fount?”

Quigley did not know how he was supposed to gain access to his two targets, so he acquiesced and answered her. “It’s in the city of Othoka on the planet Worhril.” His tone was a little flatter than he intended, and the keen woman noticed.

Pickle chuckled at him. “Listen, cutie, you’re adorable, but it’s not gonna happen.” Her words were unwavering, but her tone was not unkind. “Also, I don’t really think you came here for me. Are you looking for a job at my place? I could employ you if you’re not into being a bounty hunter anymore.”

Quigley was surprised to receive the offer, but he was too set in his mind about the path he was on, to consider the possibility of pleasure-work. “No, no, I want to be a bounty hunter.”

“And how many bounties have you brought in?”

Quigley could not help but sink again. “None,” he admitted, “but I’ve been an apprentice for four years, and I helped the hunter who I was assisting bring in fifty-eight targets.”

Pickle allowed herself to be impressed. “Okay, my dear,” she cooed in a flirty voice, “I like you. I’m about to head to lunch; wanna join me? In fact, I insist! Come with me; you can entertain me while I eat. Have you ever had the pleasure of enjoying dragonbird? They are this species of fat ground fowl that fry up beautifully!”

Quigley knew what dragonbirds were. When Pickle stood up from her desk, the young bounty hunter could not help but let out a startled gasp. Pickle was a woman, but she was wearing a very bulgy codpiece.

She snickered at his reaction. “It’s to hide my prick,” she explained, unzipping the front and pulling out the bulbous end of a rather large synthetic penis. It was bright green. Pickle grinned proudly and tucked it away again. “Come on downstairs with me,” she insisted.

Tizomin and Frilnin, Quigley’s two targets, were lounging with several of the house bois as Pickle led the young bounty hunter past them and further down to the main level of her establishment. Quigley’s eyes lingered on the pair he was after, but it had become glaringly apparent that he would not be able to take them while they were still in Pickle’s Place.

“Right this way, my pet,” Pickle instructed. She led Quigley to a door, which a bouncer opened to reveal a flight of stairs leading down to an underground hallway. “This connects to a very exclusive smoke house on the next block.” Pickle descended in front of Quigley down to the narrow space, and they began to head along the hall, but Pickle suddenly stopped and rounded on him. She stepped up very close to the young bounty hunter. “Are you on a job?” she asked in a tone that was calm but cold.

Quigley was startled.

“Are you after me?” Pickle asked.

“No!” Quigley answered without thinking.

Pickle raised an angry eyebrow. “So you are on a hunt.” She scowled at him. “Is it one of my customers?” Pickle did not allow Quigley to reply, and she snapped, “How dare you?! Who do you think you are?! You come to my house, to snatch my customers? I ought to slap the little bitch right out of you! Do you have any idea who you’re messing with?”

Quigley was feeling very caught off guard. He did not know how to reply in a way that would appease the woman’s wrath, and he blurted out, “It’s my first time!” To his surprise, the specific combination of words he used seemed to soften her.

Pickle eyed him and said more calmly, “You should have known better. What was your plan? Once inside, and once you’d grabbed your target, what did you think was going to happen? How were you planning on getting the person out? Any idea what my security team would have done to you if you’d attacked a paying client?”

When Uloo told Quigley they’ll kill you, he thought the beautiful prostitute had meant that Tizomin and Frilnin would try to kill him, but Quigley had not even considered how he would have dealt with the tavern’s bouncers, and he knew one of them did not like him already. “I need the money. I need this bounty.”

“Not gonna happen,” Pickle repeated. She frowned at Quigley again. “And I don’t like being led on, I thought you were here for sex. I thought you wanted to fuck or be fucked by me.” She stroked a hand over her codpiece. “Your deception was… frustrating, to say the least.”

Quigley pouted a little more than he intended. “But you said I wasn’t old enough anyway.”

“Oh, I never mind being the object of someone’s affection or fantasies,” the woman replied with a kittenish smile, “even if that individual and I don’t end up fucking. Now, come with me.” Pickle hooked her arm in Quigley’s elbow and led him the rest of the way down the underground hall.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. They walked past two flights of stairs that led up to buildings above, but there were no signs indicating what was there. Then they came to a third staircase with a brass placard affixed to the wall with the words The Cocky Cobbler etched into the metal in fine lettering.

“What did you say this place is again?” Quigley asked, as Pickle began to lead him up the stairs.

“It’s a smoke house. They’ve got a small kitchen as well, so we’ll get our dragonbird here also.”

Quigley could smell the aromas of guests smoking and food being cooked before they opened the door. He and Pickle stepped inside, and they were greeted by a host in a trim suit. “Welcome to the Cocky Cobbler, as always, neighbor.” The man smiled at Pickle, but he gave Quigley a sideways glance. “Miss Pickle, hunny, he’s too young even for me, never mind for…”

“Never you mind all that nonsense!” Pickle interrupted with a laugh, slapping playfully at the host. “I’m schooling this tadpole in the ways of the world,” she explained, “not the ways of the bedroom. Is there a window seat? I’d like a view.”

“Let’s see what we have available.”

Pickle and Quigley were guided to a table with a partial window view. Quigley bowed for Pickle to take the better seat, and he sat across from her.

“I expect to be amused by you, sugar,” Pickle said over the table to Quigley.

He did not know what she meant or had in mind, but he gave her a smile he hoped looked confident. Then he had a thought and his smile became a smirk. Before he could say what he was thinking, the ever-aware Pickle picked up on the change to his expression.

“What?”

Quigley asked, “You don’t remember my name, do you?”

Pickle was not going to be taken in that easily, and she laughed aloud as a waiter approached. “Nope,” she replied to Quigley, “I sure don’t.”

The waiter beamed at them. “Good afternoon, what can I get you both to drink?”

“We’ll have a bottle of the Piletia sparkling wine, and bring us a smoke sampler, my dear,” Pickle ordered.

The waiter nodded and headed into the back.

Pickle eyed Quigley. “Thought I’d feel bad for not remembering your name? Thought you might have something you could give me a hard time for?” She laughed again. “Oh doll, you’re cute.”

Two glasses of bubbly amber wine were delivered to their table, and the bottle with the rest of the wine was placed into a bin of ice.

The waiter headed off to help other tables and Pickle said to Quigley, “Tell me what was the moment you were most afraid.”

Quigley suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Pickle’s words almost sounded like a threat. Does she mean that right now should be the moment when I’m most afraid? Is she going to kill me?

When he did not answer, Pickle spoke again. “I realize that’s a tough one to start with, but I want to be entertained, and I want to know the time when you most feared for your life.”

Quigley realized it was not a trick question, and the answer came to him immediately. “Oh, I know when it was. The bounty hunter who trained me accepted a bounty for an Orj’gon woman a few months ago who killed a bunch of clergy from the Stigtron religious counsel.”

“What was your bounty hunter’s name?”

Quigley was unsure if he should divulge the information or not. “Glasshart.”

“Never heard of him.”

Quigley did not correct Pickle that Glasshart was a woman, and he was grateful that she did not know the bounty hunter he had trained under.

Pickle took a sip of wine and said, “So tell me about the Orj’gon.”

“I can’t pronounce her name,” Quigley began. “It had several apostrophes and a lot of consonants.” He also took a small taste of the wine. “Have you ever seen Orj’gons? They each have four arms and four legs. They can run much faster than most species, and they’re often hired to fight in battles. I think they played a major role in wars like the…”

“That’s good enough,” Pickle interrupted. “I know all about who they are. Tell me about being afraid.”

Quigley took another sip from his glass. “Right, being afraid… the Orj’gon woman we were tracking left a trail of dead bodies, but only one or two at a time. We followed the corpses to several planets before ending up on the Strigtron holy capital. The Orj’gon woman was…”

“Try her name,” Pickle demanded with a smirk.

Quigley scrunched up his face. “Her name was spelled something like D – R – O – G apostrophe L – I – V apostrophe M – P, at least I think that’s how it was spelled. Glasshart and I were calling her Drogelvump, but we weren’t sure what kind of pronunciation the apostrophes were supposed to influence, so it might’ve been Drogolvamp or Drogilvomp or maybe something else, but we called her Drogelvump. It’s pretty awkward to say. Anyway, we arrived and saw her fleeing the devastation. There were like eight or nine clergy killed all over the courtyard. It was a bloody mess.”

Pickle poured herself a little more of the wine. “Was that when you were most afraid?”

“No, we went after her into the surrounding forest, and we found her, but she got the jump on us. Glasshart got knocked to the ground, and the Orj’gon woman charged me with her four arms reaching and her mouth open like she wanted to swallow my soul. She was right on top of me when Glasshart fired a blaster bolt that ripped through her hip and took off one of her legs. Instead of grabbing me, she collapsed to the ground, wailing and clutching at her missing limb.”

Pickle was grinning. “You thought you were going to die.”

“I did, and I pissed all over myself. It was horrifying.”

“Pissing or shitting one’s self is not uncommon during moments of terror. Did you bring Drogwhatever in for the bounty?”

Quigley snorted a laugh. “We did, and they even paid us the total fee even though part of her was missing.”

Pickle let out a boisterous cackle. “Good one! I like you.”

Quigley was pleased with himself.

“I tell you what,” Pickle said as the smoke sampler arrived, “why don’t I guess which client you’re after?”

Quigley did not know how to respond.

Pickle picked up the digital pipe that came on the tray with four small jars that each contained a little dried plant matter. “The smoke makes the smoker more compassionate,” she declared to Quigley. She gave him a clever smile as she filled the pipe with one of the samples. “I know who it is,” she stated. “I know who you’re after.” Quigley was nervous to admit anything, but when Pickle asked, “It’s Tizomin or Frilnin, isn’t it? It’s definitely one of those assholes, right?” she noticed his expression. “Oh, it’s both of them?”

Quigley was powerless against such a perceptive woman. He was no match for Pickle.

She inhaled a deep breath of smoke and let it out above their heads. She coughed a little and took another sip of wine. “Listen, my fresh young bounty hunter, I will help you. Tizomin and Frilnin are a pair of arrogant shits, and even though they spend money in my Place, I dislike them. They are cruel to women and dismissive to anyone they deem inferior. They respect me because of the kind of establishment I run, but they’re violent. Their record may only list them as thieves, but I’ve heard that they’ve buried a few corpses out in the waste.” Pickle took another puff of smoke from the pipe and cleared it. She coughed a few more times as she cleaned it out and passed it to Quigley. “I like you,” she repeated with a smile, then she reiterated, “and I’ll help you. When Tizomin and Frilnin leave my place, I and my security team won’t stop you from taking them,” but she added, “if you can. Be careful, my lovely. Do not underestimate them.”