Outcast - Chapter 1

'It's gonna be ten packs,' said Mike, a large, very large man with hair full of grease, a small

Hitler-like moustache over his mouth and wearing a pair of round glasses. He spoke from behind

his also very large desk without making eye contact. Not because he was either afraid or

intentionally being rude. He just had a deadline to evaluate the quality of the porn playing on his

computer.

'Packs of what?'

'Say it again,' repeated Mike.

'I asked,' repeated Saul, 'packs of what?'

Mike paused the movie and looked at Saul over the lenses of his glasses. 'What do you mean

by packs of what? Money. Ten of those colourful little pieces of plastic they give you if you go to

the bank. Just put the money over the desk and get your egg our of here.'

'My egg out of here?' Saul was not used with the local slang. 'Oh, the ship.'

'Geez! Are you kidding me? Look, I've got other things to do, you know? I don't have time

to chat with you the whole day.'

'Can't I pay with my phone?'

'No, you can't pay with your phone, mate,' said Mike already annoyed with all that waste of

time. 'Gotta be real packs. Nothing digital here, mate. All this digital stuff is tainted with viruses or,even worse, public tracers. People say I'm paranoid, but one day everyone will see that I'm right.

They're everywhere. And, you see, from the point of view of those damn Earth politicians, what I

do here is illegal. Illegal! Can you believe it? All the girls are over eighteen... Geez!'

Saul opened the zipper of his leather jacket and grabbed the wallet he kept in the pocket of

his white shirt. He then searched inside of it for Mike's “ten packs”. That would leave Saul only

with a couple of notes and some coins. Mike quickly snapped the notes from Saul's hand as soon as

he saw them, counted the money and put all of it in a small metal box inside one of his drawers. He

then gave a small, very narrow plastic card to Saul.

'Here's your key. Now, as I said before, mate, get your egg out of here.' Before Saul left the

small room, he added. 'It'd be safer for you to pick some extra money in case you're robbed, you

know? These days, those damn punks don't forgive you if they find you with an empty wallet,

mate.'

Saul half-smiled, thanked for the advice and closed the door as he left the little plastic

multicoloured hut. He then started to wander around the yard looking for his new ship. The rain had

just stopped falling and Saul had to be careful to avoid the large pools of greyish muddy water.

There it was! A white, dirty and round trailer-ship. Just like Mike said, it looked like a big

egg. He touched the key-card on the door and it opened upwards, like those of a vintage sports car.

A quick look inside was enough for Saul to confirm that, although small for a trailer-ship, it was

large enough for him. It had a small kitchen, a bedroom and a small something-else room, all of

them surprisingly clean and tidy. There also seemed to be enough shelves and compartments to stick

in everything he cared about. Literally everything.

He then entered the cockpit, which was separated from the rest by a small corridor. It had

two seats and was large enough for four or five persons to fit in at the same time. Saul sat on the

pilot seat and inserted the key in the panel. The sound of the engine was not that bad. It was also not

that good. For “ten packs”, Saul would not get much more than that.

Saul looked to the dark grey storm clouds which were temporarily reorganising themselves,

preparing for their next showdown. He slowly brought the ship upwards, piercing a large

agglomeration of clouds, until he finally left the atmosphere of the small junkyard moon.

---x---

'You stay here guarding the door while I talk to him,' said Maurice to the novice. 'Nobody

should enter while I'm inside, do you understand?' Maurice never trusted novices.

'But, boss,' said the giant Russian police officer, 'what if he's got a gun?' The novice's longblond hair was wrapped into a pony tail and he was wearing, in Maurice's opinion, one of those

horrible new sunglasses that became fashionable in the last year. The guy had the police badge

hanging on his black overall with the pride that only freshers had. Maurice carried his on the back

pocket of his pants.

'If he's got a gun, I'll shoot him, okay?'

'Okay, boss.'

Mike had to move fast not to let the bottle of coffee fall over the computer's keyboard as it

tumbled with the strength which Maurice banged the door.

'Hey!' said Mike to Maurice. 'This is a business establishment. I would be glad if you could

show some manners, mate. Now, what do you...damn!' The last word was pronounced after Maurice

reached for his back pocket and pulled from it his police badge. 'Who are you? Where's Chen?'

'Chen is on holiday,' said Maurice referring to the police officer who was usually in charge

of the moon. 'Today, you deal with me.'

Mike was not very convinced. Maybe the badge was false. Even if it wasn't, it would not be

the first time a rogue police officer would try to extort some extra money from him. Once you cross

the Hole, you're on your own, mate. That's what Mike always said. On the other hand, once in a

while you would really meet an honest cop. 'May I help you, officer?' Mike finally said with a large

smile. That was the safest, most neutral sentence he could think about.

'Yes, Mike, you can,' said Maurice. 'All you need to do is to give me the details of the

vehicle you've sold to this man and I promise you, even Chen won't bother you until Christmas.'

Maurice showed his phone to Mike. On it, there was a picture of Saul. Mike pretended to

observe it with curiosity, but he obviously recognised the photo right away. There was a problem,

though. It was not a good business practice to give in his clients to the police. Chen knew that, they

had an arrangement. Something that this guy seemed to ignore.

'Never seen him, mate,' answered Mike, finally making up his mind on that matter.

'Are you sure, Mr Molina?' insisted Maurice leaving clear that he knew Mike's full name.

The sound of his surname made Mike clench his jaw briefly, but he soon recomposed

himself and maintained his position

'Sorry, officer, but I don't know who he is.'

'You don't know who he is, you say,' repeated Maurice. Then, he looked at one corner of the

room. 'Isn't that a camera?'

Mike did not say anything.

'Look, Mike,' said Maurice seating on the desk, 'I think the kind of business you do here is

absolutely disgusting. I also think that your little agreement with Chen is a shame for the police,

although I understand that with all this post-Hole recession it's too hard for him to give a decent life

for his three kids only with his bare salary. I would be very glad to fuck with your life, but that

would take time and I am kind of in a hurry right now. What do you say, Mike? Will you help me?'

'Okay, okay, mate,' said Mike knowing that things would not end up well if he insisted.

'Bloody hell! Just please don't tell anyone that I gave to the police this kind of information. I will

loose all my clients!' Mike inserted a small empty data key on his computer and then gave it to

Maurice. 'There you go, mate. All information you need. We are here,' said Mike pointing to a dirty

plastic map on the wall behind him, 'the ship he bought was parked here. Feel free to go there if you

like.'

'You wouldn't know where he was going, would you, Mike?'

'I swear to you, mate, I didn't ask. I'm never interested in where my clients are going after

here. Nor where they come from.'

'I believe you, Mike,' said Maurice walking towards the door. 'Thanks for your help. Good

luck with your business. I promise you nobody from the force will bother you anymore.' Maurice

was obviously lying. He then left the hut and banged the door close, once again, with all his

strength.

'Come on, Vlad,' said Maurice to the novice who was waiting outside in the same position,

'let's check out the information this moron gave to me.'

Maurice walked to the place where the vehicle should have been and found it empty. The

marks on the greyish muddy ground, however, were very clear. Maurice knelt down and touched

them.

'Yes, he was here not long ago,' he said to Vlad without looking at him. 'I think Mike told us

the truth. Get back to the hut and finish him. I cannot stop being disgusted with these fucking porn

film makers. Can you imagine if one day you find your daughter on one of those videos?'

Vlad knew many people with daughters, but he did not have one himself. He did not have a

wife too. So, he did not answer anything.

'Just kill him,' said Maurice finally.

'Okay, boss,' answered Vlad.

Maurice looked again at the footprints. They were Saul's for sure. He then looked at the sky.

There was only one place where Saul could get what he needed next. He smiled and looked towards

its direction. 'Helena,' mumbled Maurice.

That was, however, the last thing he said. With a muffled

splash, his face hit the mud, which became a little bit redder with the blood that came out from the

bullet hole on the back of his head.

'I've got it,' said Vlad on his phone to someone else. 'Helena.' There was a pause and then he

spoke again. 'Yes, boss, I'm on my way right now.'