“Hey Boss…”
“Yes Trigger?”
“Can I touch you?”
The silence of the room felt hot, heavy and velvety. In the distance, a muffled siren tolled, covering the distant sound of shots from a faraway brawl. The figure by the window turned to face Trigger, who was still standing by the door, barely fitting, with his shoulders squeezing through the open doorframe.
Trigger inhaled. He tightened his fist to hide the shaking of his fingers.
The figure walked away. Elongated stripes of neon pink and purple spilled through the gaps in the blinds, curling themselves around haughty shoulders and strong, elegant arms. When the coloured light touched the soft curves of the abdomen, they dispersed like fireflies in a glass jar, revealing a synthetic transparent torso. The silhouette of ribs, spine and the reinforced heart compartment glowed lightly from inside the synthetic glass and then faded as Trigger’s boss, the infamous Vanya Ullelovic sat back down at her desk, pooled in the darkness again.
The only thing Trigger could see was the purple flash of the light outside, which highlighted the curve of her face and the glint of her golden hair. He swallowed, audibly.
“Please?” He asked. He tried to be dignified in these moments, but like everyone else in the gang, his resolve crumbled when he was alone with her. Others would have thought it undignified, but he found it liberating.
Vanya looked down at the datapad she had been reading. Three successful transactions in a row, the gang would be rolling in it for the next month or so, if she played her cards right on the next job. But she supposed, as she placed it on the desk, that she could think about it another time.
She looked up at Trigger and smiled, raising a palm toward him. She swivelled her chair to face him better and leaned forward in her chair beckoning him.
“Alright then,Trigger, come here.”
He released the breath he didn’t even realise he was holding and stepped forward. He suddenly stopped, as if waiting for a cue. Vanya looked at him and nodded.
Without further prompting, he lowered himself and crawled across the plush carpeted floor. Trigger could see the biomonitor on the back of his hand blink a garish yellow through the skin. His heart rate was increasing, his breathing becoming more shallow as he neared his boss.
Vanya hummed in encouragement, her knees parting slightly as her second in command approached, the metallic clank of his mechanical knees muffled slightly on the fabric. She chuckled slightly at the sound of his near wheezing. Vanya carded her hands through Trigger’s mohawk, feeling the texture of implanted wires in his skull as he settled himself at the base of her chair, his forehead pressed against her inner thigh as he let out something akin to a mewl.
They sat that way for some time, letting the muffled sounds of the outside world lull them both into a comfortable silence. Every now and then, the sound of her acrylic nails scraped the base of his implants, sending shivers down Trigger’s spine as he pressed his face into the soft human flesh of Vanya’s inner leg. She grimaced slightly at the feel of his saliva through her leggings. He was mouthing something under his breath.
After a while, Trigger turned his head and torso to face her better. His steel knees clunked slightly against the floor as he adjusted himself, pressed as he was between his superior’s legs. His huge hands slowly ran up the back of her calves, her thighs, and up her glassy, transparent abdomen until his palms rested on her carbon fibre chest piece. Vanya indulged him by scooting forward on her seat pressing his head flush against her belly. Trigger breathed out a sigh as he felt the murmur of machinery whirring under his finger tips, the sound of his boss’ computerised heart, calculating infinite algorithms in order to keep her alive.
It had been five years, but sometimes Trigger still needed to remind himself that Vanya was alive. He could feel his own heart constricting at the memory.
Vanya cooed softly at the bulky man in her embrace. He was such a sentimental sop. But then, so was the rest of the gang. Long ago, she’d accepted that this particular branch of the District 3 Kaotiks had developed an obsessive and overly physical loyalty towards her, especially after the big brawl of five years ago.
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The Red Night gang was on a rampage that night. She took them head on and ordered the rest to evacuate the area. By the time the Red Night had managed to subdue and drag her into the night, she had killed 14 of them on her own.
When they finally found her, there wasn’t much left of her body, but then, there wasn’t much left of the Red Boys who took her either.
Vanya had smiled at the bittersweet memory. She had only been alive thanks to the prototype nanosurgeons that the boys had splurged for her as a birthday gift. They could only do so much about her lacerated stomach and intestines though…
The tehcmeds had done what they could, and she had to admit, having a see-through abdomen definitely pushed some of the boys’ and girls’ kinks in some definite ways. That, and she’d always wanted an hourglass waist, why not one that visibly showed her spinal cord?
The District 3 Kaotiks were loyal to obsession, so much so that they all donated their own personal biometric chips to line the matrix that surrounded her heart, plugging her in to each one of them, to have them all close to her heart. It was stupid and sentimental, and incredibly useful.
The other branches of the Kaotiks had always wondered how she had garnered so much loyalty. Most rumors ran along the lines that she offered them promises of drugs and sex to keep their wild passions at bay.
She chortled to herself, she’d never slept with any of her ‘children’. Their bond wasn’t sexual. But it was sensual, and she grew to indulge them their desire to touch her when they asked, even when she did play the haughty goddess. The other Kaotiks leaders begrudgingly admired the nature of her leadership, its what made them survive.
Vanya looked up, Miki was at the door with the extra datapads she had asked for. She also bore that same hungry, longing look that Trigger had on his face after he reported the day’s patrol. Vanya sighed and nodded Miki over. She couldn’t well fit another teary-eyed ganger in her arms, so she made do with smiling at her. Miki looked like she was melting from the sight. Vanya sighed, mildly nonplussed.
“Thank you Miki. And what is the latest from the Rippers?” she asked, in a tone of voice that reminded her subordinate that she still had a job to do. She felt Trigger’s hands, one of which had travelled to the small of her back to pull her in closer, twitch, at the name of the gang.
“They’re not happy that we made the exchange so close to their territory. They had a little scuffle with Manuel this afternoon when he drove by. But they let him go. Told him to ask you to, um, please keep to our agreements.” Miki sneered, bristling at the idea that the Holy Rippers would dare dictate anything to them.
“Ah well,” Vanya breathed nonchalantly. She’d known many of the Rippers long before she rose to power among the Kaotiks. “I guess I’ll have to play nice with them for now, then. Anything else?”
Miki’s eyes glanced down for a second, then darted to Trigger’s back. She shuffled from one foot to the other. “Um…. Can I-“
“No.”
“Oh” Miki nodded, understanding her place.
Vanya looked down at the datapad once more, before looking up again. “I’ll come see you after dinner. You and your brother.”
Miki’s face betrayed nothing, but her eyes had lit up. “Ah, yes. Ok… thank y-“
“Yes, yes”. Vanya waved her off. “Now go, the Big Man tells me you’ve been screwing up your knife work. Go practice and I’ll see you later.”
A minute had passed after Miki closed the door behind her. The lights from between the window blinds turned from neon pink and purple to a vibrant green. Vanya looked down at Trigger, who had cradled himself into her crotch and belly. He had left tear stains on the clear acrylic of her sculpted abdominals. Honestly, she thought, this from a man who killed a car full of megacorpos for a single data disk.
“Do you want me to kill them?” came the muffled voice of Trigger from somewhere under her non-augmented breast.
“No” Vanya replied absentmindedly. “Send Luca an email. Tell him we need to talk, and maybe incentivise him with some of the shares of the sale”.
Trigger finally looked up at her. Despite his vulnerable position, he still looked sharp, and cunning. “He wont take any money unless its clean. It would take weeks to cycle the new cash. We could offer them some cars, maybe modded a bit for goodwill.”
Vanya smiled, it was not a tender smile. It was the smile of a shark. “That’s a smart idea, but let’s not pander to them too much. Retrofit some with kill switches and make sure they can only service them at our mechanics. If we’re going to appease them, we might as well make money from them too.”
She traced an errant tear track on Trigger’s face and wiped it from his cheek, her acrylic nail pressed into the skin, leaving a slight white line. She could feel Trigger quivering at the sensation.
“Yes boss.” He sighed again and nuzzled himself into her once more, pressing a soft kiss under her cropped blouse, at the seam where her flesh met clear, glassy, acrylic. He slowly got up onto his feet, towering over Vanya, and blocking out the neon lights from the windows. Vanya nodded at him in dismissal, her fingertips trailing down his arm as he reluctantly stepped away.
“Oh, and Trigger?” Vanya called as he walked towards the door, he’d slicked back his mohawk and adjusted his belt.
“Yes boss.”
“I need you to teach Manuel a couple of lessons. I’ll not have him make another sloppy drop. The next time he gets caught, I’ll feed him to the Rippers myself.”
Trigger nodded at his boss.
“You got it.”