Dirty Work: Volume 2

Story Three - Speed Demon - 1

Though it pained me to do so, for several days after the events of Crywater Bridge, I actually followed the advice of the doctor and stayed indoors. Up in my little apartment in 26 I sat and did very little, drinking alcohol that was far more than medicinal, the occasional visit from a friend or two from the club the only company I got. I looked down onto the street, where in the distance I could see people moving through the street, figures clambering up and down the ladders to work on Dirty Work. Oh yeah, we were getting it back up and running.

The boss had managed to sweeten the deal he had already had with Prosterothal, though how he managed it I have no idea. We were able to go bigger and better, more lights, more flesh on show, beefing up the security whilst having the place appearing more open than before. The Dirty Work pink that I loved so much was going to be so damn bright from the signs outside that you would be able to see it two regions over.

Because, at the end of the day, most of the girls and guys that the boss hired to work there, either stripping on stage or behind the bars or doing his errands here and there, were there because they had nowhere else to go. Down in the dirt and the depths of depravity, Grasslea had created a little beacon of hope, a sex-show of safety and security. We loved it there, and every one of us would have fought even harder than we had done before to defend it. It was more than a place of work, or even a home, though it was definitely that as well. Dirty Work, after a while, got into your blood.

That's it, plain and simple. It was in your blood, and by god we would bleed for it without thinking. Some had already bled their last for it.

Everything still hung over our heads like great black clouds, however, things that didn't ever go away. Villa, who had emphatically declared that he didn't know what the hell was going on, or why anything that had happened had done so, was back living in his old place, but everyone nearby was on high alert for him. The few friends he had made in the building were looking out for anything suspicious, and it's one of the first times I've known Celestria to genuinely come together as a community for someone's sake, save for the rag-tag assemblies of people like the club. I had almost died trying to save the guy, and there were some of us that had lost more, but at the end of the day I'm glad I did what I had done.

Salis family, however, were a different matter. I picked up my Halo-Core that had been sat on the windowsill and re-read through the transcript the boss had sent all of his employees at Dirty Work, from the highest to the lowest, the guards to the janitors.

YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT WELL ALONE, OLD MAN. THIS GOES HIGHER THAN YOU REALISE. HER FAMILY WILL TURN UP AT SOME POINT. YOU WON THE BATTLE, WE WILL WIN THE WAR.

We could do nothing for now, the boss had told us, except sit tight and hope for the best outcome possible. Who the people that had tried to physically kidnap Villa for his information (the information he so relentlessly denied he had) were was still unknown, and perhaps they would never act again unless Euphero struck again.

This suited me fine. I had time to sit at home and rest up, getting my joints back into some kind of working order that they didn't feel like they needed an awful lot of lubricant to keep them from creaking when I picked up a box. I tried to keep as active as possible, but when you have the chance to do sod all, well, what can you do but go for it?

And so it was about five days after I left the hospital, where most of me wasn't complaining when I walked down a flight of stairs, that the boss chimed in on the Halo-Core.

'Boss,' I said as I was sitting down to eat lunch. 'How are the renovations going? I can see it from my window, but I haven't been by recently.'

'It's not going too badly,' he replied, throwing a glance over his shoulder at something behind him. 'We're having to change the size of the bathrooms, because the architect I hired forgot that there are such people as Kakrs, and when you've got to send a Kakr to a public restroom three blocks away because your stalls are too small, they tend to want to punch you through the wall to make it wide enough for them.'

'That sounds like a necessary change then,' I said, picking up the chopsticks and beginning to shovel the cheap curry and rice into my mouth.

'Definitely, and something that will cost. Cost money that I don't have. Which has given me an idea.'

I stopped eating and felt the hairs on the back of my neck go up. This could only involve shooting, and I didn't know if I was back in the worthwhile physical fitness to do it.

'Oh, don't worry, it's nothing dangerous,' he reassured, 'nothing like that... oh yes... yes that will do nicely, thank you.'

'Boss?'

'Oh yes, money. As I was saying, this idea of mine is completely above board, and is more of a long-term investment, as opposed to a quick and easy cash grab.'

'And?' I asked, taking a glance over the building tops once again to see the figures beginning to add the strips of pink to the guttering on the club.

'How much of a racing fan are you?'