{Enki | Gait}
“Was Sean Connery in it?”
“Matt, I swear the anti-inertia meds are making you high. No. Sean Connery was in Meteor. Getting colder, man.” While Puk spoke, his voice dipped here and there as he knelt and either scavenged something or placed an explosive charge.
Across the district, Matt did the same all the while pondering which movie all this planet-wide demolition reminded him of. He was ‘O’ for three on guesses and distracted by Lucy’s absence. He missed her sweet voice on the morning calls. Lux and Yito tried, but there was nothing melodic about their tenors. And then there was the question of what was Lucy doing in Enki all this time? Hopefully having some fun, but not too much without Matt—
“Yo, you see this?” Awe permeated Puk’s voice. “I know you got human vision, but surely…”
Matt imagined his friend gaping and when he exited the abandoned space scraper—holy shit—Matt could see why. Almost too distant to make out, but close enough to understand what it was, he stared at the end of the line.
One half of the planet formerly known as Gait hurled toward the star at Enki’s center. The half Matt and the demolition team were scouring hurdled toward one of the Dyson’s Sphere’s outer walls. And there it was. He blinked, trying to make sense of it. On the horizon, Matt made out swirling clouds and peeks of an ocean through that. Days from impact.
Over his earpiece, he injected plenty of alarm in his otherwise flat voice as he confirmed, “I see it.” Someone was always listening. Best to be careful.
“Ginger, Puk. Come in. Over.”
It was the engineering team, monitoring the situation, safe and sound from a nearby shrine. A combined effort of Pil Dwarves, Tritans, and Monarch 3 drones.
Among the rubble of a fallen building, Matt set another charge on the pavement. “This is Ginger. Go ahead. Over.”
Whoever was on the line—Matt didn’t care to learn all their names—assured, “We know it looks bad, but we’re way ahead of schedule thanks to the excellent team Puk’s cousin sent for the job. We’re just passing on kudos from the higher-ups. Keep up the good work and don’t let morale suffer because of the view. You’re making it happen. Over and Out.”
Encouragement. Razor and Justice Lee were good with that, too. It appeared the villains were well aware of how to manipulate subordinates in the right way to boost their self-esteem and enroll them in the franchise for evil.
Not Matt.
He rolled his shoulders, releasing several cricks in his back. Leaned his neck to the left and then to right for a satisfying pop. Lastly, as Lucy had told him lately, he rubbed the mandible joint of his jaw to relieve the tension from grinding his teeth.
Deep breaths. In and out.
When Matt closed his eyes, Gait’s remnants spilled away, replaced by a rancher’s estate in Iowa. The horses kicked up a wild dust storm to escape the flames engulfing the squat barracks.
Matt was worried about Lucy. Not about the filthy lout on his hands and knees at Matt’s feet. The degenerate begged, “What do you want? I can get you anything. The Icari will grant you anything. Just let me live.”
Blood dripped from Matt’s knuckles, busted and used. He’d left the bone protruding from Justice Bell’s cheek, and he was nowhere near finished.
“If it’s that little bitch you want—I swear I didn’t lay a hand on her. She’s lying if she says I did. She—”
“She’s back.”
Matt wouldn’t take his eyes off the groveling scumbag to see the smile he heard in Lucy’s voice. A horse chuffed behind Matt close enough to muss his hair. Lucy’s small giggle made him smile.
This widened the eyes on the Justice’s face to a painful degree, bulging out from his head with corneas red from smoke inhalation. Funny, that normally didn’t happen until Matt started crushing their skulls, but no matter.
From atop the comical beast, Lucy tapped Matt on the shoulder with a length of good rope.
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When Bell saw it, tears spilled down his face. “What’re you planning to do with that?” Desperation kicked the pitch of his voice up a few notches.
Matt took it and knelt before the good Justice. Feeling nothing but the buzz of anticipation, he said, “The Cult of Night hasn’t served the Icari since Volcano Day. You lie to your congregation. You also claim to recruit for an assassination attempt on King Rayne. Sinner, we’re your punishment, and it’s long overdue.”
The man squirmed then and screamed for help, long reduced to ash.
With all the strength imbued in Matt from his nacre, he pinned the man to the ground and tied the rope around his waist and wrists. A handcuff knot. He and Lucy learned so many interesting knots over their time taking down CoN, taught to them by Collectors who now salted the Earth. The men and women who stole people for CoN recruitment.
Dismounting, Lucy handed the reins to Matt with a sweet smile. “I only want a quick word with him.”
“Be my guest.” Matt understood. He climbed the horse after an iffy first attempt and smiled awkwardly down at her raised brow. “I got it.”
Lucy wore those stupid Promoter robes. Justices always cited her youthful allure and her eloquent speech for placing her in the role of spreading the CoN rhetoric for recruitment. Black fabric draped over every inch of her, but left her breasts almost completely exposed. For the coup, she ripped the skirt to expose the length of her tan, toned legs, splashed in the blood of their enemies. So slick Matt wanted to wash her clean, while reclaiming the heaven denied to him after months of this undercover work.
Dressed like this, Lucy stood before the Justice. Nearly hogtied, Bell still rolled his eyes in his sockets to look up at the blood-soaked blond who incinerated his compound. Her dark blue eyes glinted, reflecting the firelight of his kingdom in flames. Even so, Justice Bell looked straight at her breasts.
Matt smiled.
Lucy laughed at her prey, turned, and Matt asked, “Ready?”
“Wait, wait, wait—Please, don’t do this.” Bell tried to reach for Lucy with his bound hands, missed by an inch, and sobbed on his failure.
Matt leaned forward, expecting Lucy to climb up behind him, but she surprised him by swinging her leg over in the front, straddling him. She met his eyes with an openness to her secret smile meant only for the finale.
So this was how Lucy wanted it.
Matt experienced only certain kinds of excitement. Crushing a skull, bringing down an evil franchise, and the first time with Lucy after weeks of deprivation from her soft… everything. Lips, hands—everything. Holding Lucy again was the only thing which made Matt shiver in anticipation.
Lucy felt it, and her eyes darkened. Shyly, she dipped her chin and peered at him through thick blond lashes. When she bit her lip, Matt couldn’t take it anymore. Months apart, this kiss melted him to her, and she gasped into his mouth, feeling the same.
It was fucking magical. Made all the better when Matt squeezed his thighs, and the horse took off at a trot.
Lucy broke their kiss for a gentle, “Yip!” But only for a second. She quickly reconnected and touched him everywhere with those soft hands he’d missed so much. It was the only time he was grateful CoN wouldn’t let him wear a shirt.
Behind them, Justice Bell started off with a groan which grew into a lot of swearing across the open field, and into a shriek when they cantered onto the gravel drive. Keening, loud, and overlaid with an arrhythmic thudding which turned his every sound into a ragged, staccato performance.
“P-p-p-l-l-e-e-e-a-s-s-e-e! S-s-s-t-t-o-o-p-p!” Over and over again.
Meanwhile, Lucy whispered how she thought of Matt every night and wished there were no cameras in her cabin so she could touch herself while thinking of him. Her hands slipped down his shirtless front and went for his fly.
No lie, this was physically difficult to manage. The extra endowments from their nacres helped make it less hard. Well, something remained hard for her, but the position, the rocky ride—
Lucy gripped him after some maneuvering, and Matt’s eyes rolled back with a teeth grinding groan. Months. Without her. They were only cantering along the circular drive. Surely, they could figure this position out—
Oh.
God.
Every word Lucy said was gospel. She was ready for this and, with a determination set in her eyes, she moved for him, nearly sending Matt over in a puddle of perfect stimulation.
They were fucking on horseback while keelhauling a half-dead bad guy on a gravel road behind them.
A good hunt.
Matt opened his eyes to an ocean on the zenith, soon to disappear as this half of Gait made another rotation. He’d spent a few months on this project now without Lucy. Without a hunt. She taught Matt these meditative exercises to help him cope. About every four days or so, Matt took a minute to stem the hunger in him. With as many CoN compounds they’d taken down over the years, Matt possessed an arsenal of satisfying kills to relive. He’d yet to touch his time at Razor’s Emporium of Exotic Experiences. But nothing quite substituted the real hands-on experience.
Still, Matt tried and managed. Miles of space-scrapers and derelict warehouses were spread out around him. There was no one to kill this time.
Mount another explosive charge, pop another anti-inertia med, and check in with Puk to maintain sanity.
How funny it was Matt’s life had changed so much in a single day, years ago now. He would argue for the better, and thanked whoever was up there every day that he tracked Rayne down at her bookstore three years ago on Invasion Day.
The last of the impending ocean vanished around the curve of Gait. Massive and impossible—beautiful, really. The scale of it should astonish and arrest Matt, but it failed to move him. Little did. Yet, even with his emotional hindrance, he still understood. This was enormous.
It was the crux of this entire mission, wasn’t it? This wasn’t a compound of zealots or a den of endorsed vice. It was different this time. Bigger than Matt and Lucy. Bigger than Earth. The waning view confirmed it.
Everything was about to change again.
Fortunately, there was nothing Matt and Lucy couldn’t survive together.