Chapter 22

Flotsam

Chapter 22: Memetic

“Hello? I know you’re there! I might be blind, but I can still hear you…”

I look over at Halley-16 and all she can do is shrug. Her mouth is gagged by the Halley-9 Symbiote and her arms are bound behind her back like she’s wearing manacles. She totters on tiptoes, feet forced en pointe by shiny black Symbiote boots. She minces a little step and nearly trips as the tentacle hobble linking her ankles snaps taught. Halley-16 just barely catches her balance and blushes at me. Clearly she isn’t going to be much help here.

“Is making me wait part of the game?” Halley-18 asks while lifting her head, I guess trying to pinpoint us by sound. Her sightless eyes pass over me; no pupils, just round circles of unbroken violet iris. She licks her lips thoughtfully. “Okay…” she purrs, twisting her naked limbless body on the plush white bed. She rolls her smoothed over shoulders and works her legless hips back and forth in a way that displays the shamelessly exposed pink slit of her pussy. “Do you want me to beg?”

I swallow heavily, horrified but also maybe a little turned on. Halley-18 is a blind limbless quadruple amputee, a helpless living plaything here in the Sexbox. Which, fuck, why does this shit keep happening to me?

“Oooo…” Halley-18 whimpers, wriggling. “I’m sooooo wet….”

I blush, “Please stop.”

“Oh. It’s a me.” Halley-18 flops her limbless body flat on the mattress. “I guess you aren’t here to fuck me then?” She sounds disappointed.

“No, I’m here to ask you some questions?” I clear my throat awkwardly. “Hi, I’m Halley-24.”

“Up to 24 already?” Halley-18 looks mostly in my direction and shakes her head. “Well, come have a seat so we can get this over with…”

I glance nervously at Halley-16 who shrugs and then nods her head. Halley-18 frowns at the delay. “I don’t bite,” she says, “Well I do, but I’m easy to dodge.” She wiggles her abbreviated body as if trying to make a point. I take a deep, long breath and walk across the sparse little room and sit cautiously on the edge of the bed. “That’s better,” Halley-18 says.

Up close like this I can’t help but study Halley-18. She’s mostly a baseline Halley, or at least what’s left of her is. She has no arms or legs, her body ending abruptly at the shoulders and hips. Her limbless shoulders are round and perfectly smooth, creating the appearance that Halley was born this way. Her torso from shoulder to hip is one elegantly unbroken line, smooth ribs to smooth sides to the smooth flare of her hips. She has modest breasts which pool naturally on her chest and absolutely killer ab definition. Like her shoulders, her hips are rounded over without a single trace that she ever had legs. Her truncated hips and ass are unnaturally full too, artfully sculpted to create a soft heart-shape where her body ends. Obscenely displayed in this abbreviated valley is the wet pink folds of her pussy, boldly presented as if it’s the whole point of her, ripe and ready for the taking.

I snatch my vision away from Halley-18’s vagina and focus on her face instead. Her violet eyes look without seeing, too still and too aimed a little wrong. Her empty purple irises are enormous and up close I can see a tiny white speck in the very centre, a pinprick of severed nerves. Her dark hair is cut down to a short fuzz and her eyebrows have grown unkempt. She has freckles across the bridge of her nose, except they’re green and shiny, and I realize she has emerald scales on her face. The scales splash across the top of chest too, sprinkling along her collarbones, and back around her rounded shoulders. The scales are faintly metallic and I’m tempted to touch one to see what they feel like. I wonder how this version of me ended up limbless and blind and slightly scaly.

“So…?” Halley-18 smirks at me like she knows I’m ogling her. “What do you want to know? Is this part of a Halley-vision-quest-type thing?”

I shake my head and remember she can’t see. “No, I’m here with… a specific line of inquiry?”

Halley-18 giggles, “Specific line of inquiry! So full of intrigue!”

I blush, “Questions! I have questions…”

“Then ask already! I haven’t got all day!”

I blink my eyes and look at her dubiously, she’s a limbless woman laying in a bed, “Am I interrupting your evening walk?”

Halley-18 laughs and a genuine smile breaks out on her face. “Touche!” She grins and I can see her teeth are little fangs, “You’re okay, Halley-24.” She sighs and flops back flat on the bed, “But the faster we do this, the sooner a client might come who actually wants to use me.” Halley humps her hips up and down making the bed bounce a little.

I feel a little queasy, “An interested party told me that a Halley living in the Sexbox knew something important about Halley-Prime. Is that you?”

Halley-18 lays very still, does a trademark deep breath, “Who told you I was here?”

I frown, not so playful now. “An Infobroker who knew Prime, goes by the name Gan Ceann. Their agent said you knew something about why Halley-Prime was abducted from Earth…” I pause, “I was also told you might be on the run? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Of course not,” Halley-18 says, slipping her brave face back on. “I’m just very kinky. I came here to the Sexbox all lonely and horny, and liked what I saw. Kid in the candy store kind of thing.” She wiggles obscenely, “Next thing you know I’ve lost some surplus parts and joined the Industry as a living sex toy. Just another grown up Catholic School girl with some weird internalized fetishes…”

From across the room Halley-16 grunts and stumbles, shakes her head vigorously. I got that Halley-18 was lying, but the confirmation is nice.  

Halley-18 swings her face blindly around the room, her face angry. She growls, “Is that you Triple H? Be quiet! This doesn’t concern you!”

“Did you just call her Triple H?”

Halley-18 snorts, “Hogtied Horny Halley. Or Hobbled Horny Halley. Or maybe Helpless Horny Halley. H-H-H.”

“Cute.”

“What can I say? I have a lot of time on my…” She shrugs her armless shoulders, “Not hands exactly.”

“Right.”

Halley-16 makes another muffled sound, chewing on her gag, drooling. Halley-18 glowers sort of in her direction. “It’ll be Harmed Hopeless Halley in a minute if you don’t be quiet!”

The Symbiotic pseudopod in Halley-16’s mouth flows out of the way and she gasps, “What’ll you do? Bite my ankles?”

Halley-18 hisses, “Maybe. It’s not like you’ve got the fastest getaway.”

Halley-16 stomps her ballerina-toed foot angrily, slips a little, her ankle hobble going tight and yanking, and yelps as she falls to the ground, landing awkwardly. I stand up to go to her, “Oh my god, Halley are you okay?”

“I’m fine… although this is why I prefer padded floors.” She groans and kicks her legs to roll into a more comfortable position on the floor. “Halley, stop lying to her and just tell her the real story.”

Halley-18 makes a hissing sound and unleashes a patented Halley-style dirty look at Halley-16. Unfortunately her aim is way off and Halley-16 is facing away from her anyway. I blink my eyes and notice that Halley-16’s scales are thicker on the back of her neck, a solid skin of emerald and gold with lapis lazuli highlights. I take a step and lean in, see the mosaic of scales continue down her shoulders and disappear under her body. I wonder how far down they go and whether she has an entire reptilian back tattoo. I think about turning her over to look; it’s not like she can stop me… 

And holy crap! Scales! Halley-18 has scales! I gasp and place a hand over my pussy, Halley-18 was in the Syndicate! She worked for Reptilian gangsters! Which is probably how she learned the information I’m after. And why she she’s hiding out here. It still doesn’t explain why she’s a limbless sextoy, but maybe I can use this. “You were in the Syndicate.”

Halley-18 looks in the direction of my voice. Her mouth is a thin line and her blind eyes are narrow. “What makes you say that?”

“Your scales.”

“I just like lizards.”

“I’m sure you do, but I think you should start talking before I go ask your former employers about what you know.”

“You wouldn’t.”

I tilt my head and think about it. I’ve met enough Halleys to know we’re capable of a lot of things. I could easily picture The Destroyer doing something so ruthless. Or Sister Superior Teuthida. I don’t think I have it in me though, and honestly I’m pretty okay with that. But if ever there was a time to bluff… “You’re right, I wouldn’t.” Halley-18 relaxes a little, round shoulders slumping. “But Gan Ceann probably will. So take it from the top.”

Halley-18 bares her fangs at me like she’s going to keep arguing, but then closes her eyes and sighs, lays on her back and stares blankly at the ceiling. “The only thing I don’t like about being limbless is not being able to walk away from assholes.” She points her face in my general direction, “Swear to me that you and your Infobroker will keep my situation to yourselves. I’m sure the Dragon knows I’m here, but I get the feeling that our little detente will be over the moment I cause any sort of fuss.” She winces, “And I’m not exactly built for quick getaways…”

“I promise.”

“I guess I should start at the beginning? Give you the whole Halley meet up experience.” Halley-18 stretches out her neck. “I appeared in Clem’s weird apartment, met her and her sex pet, and was shuffled off to Hank to work through my hysterics. I moved in with Hank and Freya and did the waitress thing at the Hideaway and for a while it was really nice.” Halley-18 smiles darkly with more than a little fang. “Until it wasn’t. There was always an undercurrent of sexual tension between the three of us. Freya is a woman of incredible passion and appetite, and she made it obvious she wanted me. Hank is less straightforward, but he wanted me too, I think because when he’s fucking another Halley he feels like a unique person instead of a clone.” Halley shrugs her empty shoulders. “I was attracted to them both, but too scared of fucking up my home to jump into that situation with my legs open, so to say.” Halley wags her truncated hips around playfully. “And so there I was living with Hank and Freya, listening to them fuck when they were together, and having them both try and seduce me when they were apart. It was a lot. And so I started going for long walks. It might seem hard to believe now, but I used to love going for walks. Just climbing down from the Hideaway rooftop and striding along on my legs for hours…” Halley-18 shivers and winces, “Disgusting.”

I frown and blink, what? 

“Anyway,” she continues, “I’d go for these long aimless walks all over the Mesa, just taking in the new alien world and exploring Flotsam.” Halley frowns thoughtfully, “We never really did that on Earth, did we? Always too scared to wander around unfamiliar streets and strangers. Instead we squirreled ourself away in that crappy trailer park.” She shakes her head, “The funny thing is that walking is this amazing way to be hidden. If you just keep moving you’re basically invisible. Anonymous.” Halley smiles, “And all the exercise is great for burning off extra anxiety energy.” She nods to herself, “But I think my favourite thing was the people watching. Flotsam is wildly entertaining: different species and cultures and individuals all stacked up on this stupid little mountain. I could just pick a direction, walk a few blocks, and see something I’d never seen before, or someone completely new. A futuristic machine or bizarre stranger or brand new species. It was the cheapest, best show in town.” Halley frowns thoughtfully and points her face at where she thinks I am. “You know the main thing I learned from all my walks?”

“What?”

“Everyone is scared.”

I blink, “Okay…?”

“Everyone is constantly afraid, and their fear drives their behavior. Fear is the key to understanding life.”

“That’s…” Super dark and deeply fucked up, and how do you even get there from people watching…“cynical?”

Halley-18 grins with her fangs out. “People only follow rules because they fear punishment. They work at a job because they fear hunger and poverty. People fall in love because they’re afraid of being alone. People have children because they fear death, and I guess biology,” Halley shrugs her shoulder nubs. “People are violent because they’re afraid of being hurt and desire control for fear of being powerless.”

“And you joined the Syndicate to what, gain power?”

“Sort of.” Halley-18 lays flat on the mattress and glares at the ceiling. “I started to see the Syndicate on my walks; they’re almost everywhere once you learn what to look for. Maybe I saw a shakedown first, an obvious crime, but just kept walking. Then maybe I noticed a Reptilian patrol checking in on a corner dealer. Then there was a street vendor who seemed a little crooked and had scales on his arm. Soon I’d start to notice them in the crowd walking anonymously.” Halley frowns, “It’s hard to explain exactly what I saw, but they had a way of being in the world. The Syndicate carried themselves with a confidence, a bravado, and the sapients around them responded to it, subconsciously deferred to them. They were fearsome.”

“So you joined the Syndicate to get over your fear?”

Halley-18 shook her head, “I didn’t say they were fear-less. You sighted folks need to learn to listen better.” She sighed, “They were fear-some. The Syndicate are just as afraid as everyone else, and even have extra criminal fears. Fear of law enforcement, fear of their bosses, fear of the violence inherent in illegal enterprise. Fear of imminent death. But rather than cower to that fear, they reflect it back into the world, project it onto others. They become fear, live in it.” Halley works her jaw for a moment, “As someone who had let fear rule her life, who ran away from it, surrendered to it, the idea of just owning that fear, of making it a weapon was… incredible. I wanted to become fearsome… instead of just afraid.”

Halley-16 scoffs from the floor, “You’re so full of shit.” The Symbiote has grown ribbons that wrap around her limbs leaving her cocooned like a mummy. “You did it for the money.”

Halley-18 laughs, “The money was good too! Crime really does pay.” She smiles at the ceiling, “I also found a sense of belonging and family and self-importance; all the usual gang stuff. But the thing that made me reach out to the Syndicate was that epiphany about fear.”

“How does an Earthling girl even join an alien gang? Just walk up and say ‘Hi I’d like to do a crime’?”

“Pretty much. I approached a few scaly drug dealers and made my pitch, and when that didn’t work, I bothered some higher ranked gangsters on a patrol. When that still didn’t work, I picked out Syndicate members who were trying to be anonymous and introduced myself to them. So it was probably me being a nuisance that got the Syndicates attention, but hey whatever works, right?” 

Halley-18 licks her dry lips, “The Syndicate contacted me when I was out on a walk. I turned a corner and heard a sound like a rattlesnake and glanced back to see a woman dressed in dark blue scales and leather coming up behind me. She hissed at me to look forward, to keep walking, and asked if I was looking for work. I told her I was, and she replied that maybe she had something for me. The woman gave me city coordinates and a timestamp and told me to be punctual. Then silently she slipped away. I had my first job.”

“I got to the rendezvous with time to spare; too much time really. I was nervous and twitchy and so close to running away, but I practiced my breathing, paced out my anxiety, made myself stay. And then this gigantic slab of a human man approached me. He was six and a half feet tall and unnaturally wide, wearing a huge dark leather coat, supple leather gloves that he kept tucked in his sleeves, and a stupid hat, like a wide brimmed bowler. He told me that his name was Boomslang and that I was to follow him. I was twitchy so I nattered at him, but he basically ignored me aside from the occasional grunt until we reached a little bodega-like shop. Boomslang told me that we’d arrived and that I was to be his Face for the evening. I didn’t know what he meant, so he tersely explained he was the Heavy and I was the Face. It was my job to sweet talk the shopkeeper into paying their debt or else there would be consequences. I asked what consequences, and he quietly replied the Heavy.” Halley-18 smiled wistfully, “I walked into the store and went up to the thin Blue behind the counter and introduced myself as their debt collector. The Blue was called Soupcan and they were terrified, but so was I, so scared of them and Boomslang and myself and the whole crazy situation. But rather than run away I projected that fear, stood tall and askance, grinned with too many teeth, leaned forward and put my elbows on the counter, and made myself fearsome. The Blue shopkeeper cowered and I felt this awful little thrill at winning the balance.” Halley-18 wiggled her limbless body and smiled. “I did my best to make Soupcan pay up, I really did. I ran through everything I could think of: appeals to their welfare, appeals to their business sense, appeals to how their Community would feel to see them beaten by a gangster, I threatened, I pleaded, I promised, but that stubborn Blue was a tough nut. And then Boomslang walked into the shop.”

“Boomslang slowly peeled off his soft leather gloves revealing gnarled, scaly reptilian hands. He had long talons on every too thick finger, ridged barbed scales like armour that ran back along his hands and knuckles, and rough black scales that disappeared up the sleeves of his coat. Soupcan’s eyes went wide, even for a Blue, and started to beg, but well, the time for deals was past. Boomslang handed his gloves to me, gently pushed me aside, and was across the room and hauling Soupcan out from his perch in the blink of an eye. He held that tall thin alien aloft and beat him, carefully, thoughtfully, precisely, for what felt like ages. My heart was pounding and my mouth was cotton-dry, this was the most violent, most terrifying thing I’d ever seen, but it was thrilling too. I was on the right side of the dagger blade, watching someone else be broken. I’d never felt powerful before and I loved it.” Halley shakes her head, “I knew I should feel bad, guilty or whatever, but I didn’t. I wonder what that says about me? About us?” Halley looks blindly in my direction and smiles very thinly.  “And then Boomslang was finished, dropping a wheezing, pulverized Soupcan to the floor. Boomslang calmly drew something like a kerchief out of his coat and delicately cleaned the blue-black blood off his monstrous hands. He reached out to me for his gloves and told me to come along.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Halley-18 nods, “And so I became a Face for a while, the friendly voice for Boomslang as he  collected debts. Usually sapients paid up without a beating, and I got better at saying the right things, finding that line between no fucks friendly banter and threat, to talk most folks round to the less painful way of doing business. I got better at reading when I had a hard case too, learned to just step outside the shop and let Boomslang be the Heavy. It became transactional, seemed like a normal part of doing business, and not the violent crime that it was. It’s funny how quickly you get calloused to things.” Halley snorts a laugh, “When we eventually went back to Soupcan he paid up in full, he’d burned his Social Capital and his Community had bailed him out. I can’t imagine what that did to his Standing...”

“One day me and Boomslang visited a glassblower with a gambling problem. I entered his little gallery and gawked, it was beautiful. The shop was filled with ornate vases and statues made from kaleidoscopes of twisted rainbow glass, all of it artfully arranged on pedestals or shelves. I said a cheerful hello and found the human glassman staring at me defiantly, hands on narrow hips, face lit up luridly with projected colour. I was feeling jaunty and jovial so I toyed with him, touched his artwork as we chatted, poked and nudged his sculptures, eventually knocked over a beautiful piece to punctuate a point. He was mad, I could tell I’d wound him up too far, but fuck, I didn’t care. When he refused to pay, I laughed at him, told him the glassman shouldn’t play hard. I smashed a vase on the floor, told him life is brittle. Boomslang entered with his impeccable timing, looming, but rather than take off his gloves, he handed me a pair of steel knuckles. He told me it was time for me to be the Heavy.” Halley takes a deep breath, “For a moment I was too stunned to do anything, just held those heavy, heavy steel dusters in my shaking hands. Sweat trickled down my back and my pulse pounded in my ears. I wasn’t ready for this, wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t vicious enough to do this. Or was I? I’d been jointly responsible for at least a dozen beatings already, my hands were already dirty. What was worse about doing it myself? It was more honest in a way,” A wry smile played across her lips. “I looked at the glassman and weighed him up. He was small and slight, maybe from a planet with too little food or weird gravity or miniature genetics. I was scared, sure, but I figured I could probably take him, especially with the knuckles putting extra weight behind my punches. And Boomslang was there, silently watching. He’d step in if I started to lose, right?” Halley-18 shakes her head, “Now I’m not sure he would’ve...”

“I slipped the knuckles onto my hands. I was panting and scared out of my mind, but somehow giddy too. The steel knuckles were cold on my fingers, made my hands feel cumbersome and huge and heavy as guilt. The room seemed too bright, too loud, too real somehow; certainly too colorful, like a feverish dream sculpted from rainbows. I squared my shoulders, walked to the glassman, boots crunching on the glass of his broken artwork. The glassman looked at me, looked at Boomslang, looked at me, raised his hands in surrender, but we all knew what was going to happen. I threw my first punch clumsily, too skittish to put any weight behind it, and clipped one of his hands. The glassman shrieked, but more from nerves than anything, and I stumbled a bit. He shied away and I hit him again, catching his arm solidly this time, the knuckles making it hard enough to bruise. He shoved out at me, made me stumble backward and knock over a statue, sending it to shatter on the floor. I was mad now and growled and punched, fell back on that old self-defense class and kneed him in the balls. He wheezed and curled up, cupped his aching crotch with his hands, and presented his face, so I punched it as hard as I could, no form, just threw all my weight recklessly into it. Through the knuckles I felt something in his face give, crack, break, buckle, and I watched him go over sideways, blood spilling out of his mouth. I lifted a statue and smashed it over his head, sharp glass falling over him. I kicked him and kicked him and he somehow stumbled to his feet, unsteadily. So I pulled him towards me and punched him in the nose, crushing it flat beneath my knuckles, and then threw him into an art display, knocking him back to the sharp glassy ground. I grabbed another pair of statues, the size and weight of wine bottles, and hit him with them until they broke. Then I punched him in the face and hands and arms when he tried to curl up. Then I was kicking him, over and over, making him roll around in the broken glass. And then Boomslang was gently pulling me back, reminding me that a dead man pays no debts.”

Halley rotates her smooth limbless shoulders as if she were lifting her arms. “I was trembling, holding up my bloody aching hands in front of me like I didn’t know what to do with them. My toes hurt inside my boots,” Halley-18 cringes in revulsion. “My skin was burning, I was cut all over by glass, bleeding from dozens of tiny little wounds. I was gasping and had tears in my eyes, but I couldn’t tell if it was shock or anger or grief or triumph. I looked back at the glassman moaning on the floor and felt sick and jubilant and horrified and proud. Boomslang rested his heavy gloved hand on my shoulder and nodded like something significant had happened. Then he led me out of the gallery.” She smiles faintly, “I passed the test.”

“Fuck.”

“The next thing I knew I was being summoned to a fancy restaurant up in the Terraces. It was a handsome stone building with a tiled roof of colorful recycled plastic and a huge patio with a great view out over the Mesa and Spaceport. I was so nervous, clutching my simple printed dress, too aware of my bruised knuckles and all the little bandages and cuts on my bare arms and legs. I felt so out of place. I was led to a table and found the woman who recruited me relaxing with a fizzing red drink. She told me to sit and took a long sip of her drink, the dark blue ceramic snake rattles in her dreadlocked hair hissing a little with the motion. She was wearing tight dark trousers and a navy vest like a halter top waistcoat that bared sinewy arms covered in sleeves of blue and gold scales. Metallic gold scales on her breastbone glinted in the evening sun like a medallion, drawing my eyes to her bare cleavage. She cleared her throat and I looked up to see yellow reptilian eyes studying me from a domino mask of midnight blue scales. ‘I am called Krait’ she told me cooly, ‘and from now on you work directly for me.’”

“Food was brought to our table, real meat from some big mammal-type animal, an absolute luxury. Krait flicked a forked tongue and carved into her steak with a knife. Without looking up she told me that my hard work had been noticed, that I was increasingly seen as dependable, a woman who could see things through. At least provisionally. Krait told me there was a realignment happening, that there was a real opportunity for women like her to get ahead. Perhaps for me as well, if I could be strong enough and cunning enough and fierce enough. Krait looked up at me with those blazing slit eyes and asked me if I was a predator or prey. I felt a little pang of panic, what the fuck had I gotten myself into? I’d wanted a taste of power, sure, but here I was being propositioned by someone with real clout. But the time for doubts was before I kicked the shit out of someone, so I put on my bravest shittiest grin and told Krait she already knew the answer. Krait took a bite of her meat and nodded as she chewed. Krait reached under the table and handed me an object, a sheathed dagger. Hands shaking, I pulled the knife out of its cover and studied it. It was a simple blade, salvaged Junk Desert ceramic honed to a microtome edge with an artless tungsten guard and a handle crafted from some up-cycled polymer. It was functional and brutal and completely made of repurposed garbage. I gasped, understanding what it meant.” Halley-18 blinked her sightless eyes and paused, “Do you know about Reptilians and their daggers?”

My mind goes back to The Arena and the staged Proving and all of the males stabbing each other for breeding favor. “Not really.”

“Blading is a Reptilian tradition that goes back to their ancient times and is a mark of status and fealty. When a male Reptilian is taken as a vassal, their Matriarch awards them a ceremonial dagger that bears symbols of their rank and allegiance. This knife becomes a mark of pride for the male and the weapon they’ll use in Honour Duels and Provings. To be given a knife by Krait was to be marked as a valued member of her Cohort and not just some thug. I wasn’t a punk playing gangster anymore, I was being made a Lieutenant in the Syndicate. I felt fear and pride war in my heart and I smiled and looked up at Krait. Thank you, I’d said. Krait smiled thinly back, her lips red with bloody juices, and said: I think we’ll call you Glass now. You should eat your meat before it grows cold.”

“We finished our meal in silence and then Krait took me to another Terrace building, an upscale Shaper clinic run by the Syndicate. I was confused, but obediently followed Krait inside while wondering why we were there. Krait brought me to a small treatment room with a recliner. She turned to me suddenly, her dreadlock rattles hissing menacingly, and told me that I’d earned my first scales. I was speechless; this was another big right of passage. Humans in the Syndicate with Rank, humans like Krait, we’re given the right to Shape scales onto their bodies, to emulate their Reptilian Matriarchs. It was considered an honor to elevate my lowly mammal form toward a Reptilian Ideal, but it was also expected of me as another act of fealty. My new dagger marked my status and allegiance within Reptilian circles, but growing scales would mark my Syndicate affiliation to everyone else. The fact I was a criminal gangster would be obvious, carved into my body for display, visible to the world. I shivered, this was another big step down a dangerous path, and one that would change how sapients saw me. How Clem and Freya and Hank would see me. Did I really want to do this? But again it was too late for doubts, this was just another part of the promotion I’d already accepted. I took off my dress and climbed up onto the recliner. Krait bared her long fangs in a grin, a strange look in her eyes like desire.”

Halley-18 scans blindly around the room, searching for me. “Roll me over.”

“What?”

“Roll me over,” Halley-18 repeats as she finds my voice and gives me an impatient look. I reach out and touch her, grasp her by a warm bare truncated shoulder and hip and roll her onto her front. Her back is covered in a mosaic of scales, gold and green mostly, but with a few lapis lazuli accents, an organic geometry that makes me think of snakes. It’s actually quite beautiful. “You can touch,” Halley instructs me, “I’m not going to stop you.” As if she could.  I hesitate, but curiosity wins out and I run my finger along the scales covering Halley-18’s spine. The scales are smooth and dry and hard, like kernels of uncooked corn. It reminds me of the time I touched a blue-tongued skink in the Trailer park guy’s pet collection. Halley shivers at the touch. “That feels nice,” she purrs.

I snatch my hand back like a frightened animal, “So you got a knife and some back scales and a cute nickname.”

Halley-18 twists her head to avoid talking into the mattress, “Not just the back. I also had scales added to my hands: thick crocodilian plates across my knuckles like my own built in knuckle dusters. Like Boomslang. At the time I thought it was a badass choice; a nod to my history and a neat little threat.” She shivers, “Now the idea just seems revolting.”

“Yeah.” The thought of beating someone with my own hands and then celebrating it with a tattoo was pretty fucked.

“Krait liked it though, and when my Shaping was finished I opened my eyes to find her staring at me with that same unexpected hunger. She lunged at me, quick like a snake, and I felt her lips press against mine in a kiss, aggressive and biting and sharp. I kissed her back, surprised and uncertain but game, heart pounding in my chest. I felt her hands trace across my naked body, her hard enamel nails rasping across my skin and gliding along my new scales. She guided me onto my back and I felt her fingers dip down to my crotch and push into me assertively. I gasped and wriggled, the sudden penetration not entirely comfortable. Krait was beautiful and sexy and dangerous, attractive and terrifying all at once. I knew that fucking her was not a smart or safe move, but well, she was somehow already fucking me and I wasn’t going to stop her. Krait started to finger fuck me, slowly at first, a smooth motion of total control. I started to pant, roll my hips against her hand, but she pressed me down flat with her other hand, “Ssssssstill.” I laid there biting my lip as Krait started to move faster, pushed a third finger inside of me, dragged along the sensitive ridges of my pussy. She smiled and licked her lips with a forked tongue, a distant look on her face like she wasn’t exactly seeing me, “Yesssssssssss.” Krait started to fuck me faster, her fingers rapidly thrusting in and out, her hand pushing me up against my chair. I mewled and gasped and tilted my head back and…. Ahhhhhhhhh.” Halley-18 writhes on her stomach and does her best orgasm impression. Despite myself I stare at the round swell of her ass, enormous looking on her small squirming body. “And then I felt the fingers inside my pussy hook sharply, felt Krait’s hand suddenly clutch me tightly by the cunt. I mewled in shock, breathless and aroused, but hurt and confused. Krait squeezed me tighter, her nails digging into me like a threat, and stared into my eyes, “Never forget that you are mine now.””

“Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah,” Halley-18 sighed. 

“And then what happened?”

“Then I became something like Krait’s personal bounty hunter. If some sapient tried to pull a runner on us, Krait would sick me and my crew on them.” Halley smiled tightly, “I was really good at it too. I don’t know if it was the time I spent shadowing Boomslang, or having access to Syndicate resources, or just a natural talent, but I could find almost anyone on Flotsam. And even if someone tried to flee off planet I’d usually catch them at the Port, tipped off by one of my pet officials.” Haley-18 bared her little fangs, “No one escaped Glass.”

“And once you found them?”

“It could go a few different ways. Sometimes I’d just stop by for a jaunty hello, a fuck you reminder that I’d always be able to find them. Or maybe I’d bring along Boomslang and his new protege for a more in depth conversation about obligations. Sometimes I’d hand my prey off to the Serpent’s Enforcers, tough male guards who'd drag the runner back to the Dragon for extra punishment. Maybe Indenture in a Breakyard or execution, or maybe a more exotic punishment.” Halley shrugs her armless shoulders, “I tried not to find out.”

I nodded, “You learned something about Halley-Prime while working as a Bounty Hunter, right? Found her while chasing down another lead? Maybe used all your new contacts to learn some things?”

“No,” Halley-18 spat an unimpressive dribble onto her mattress. “Of course not. I don’t give a fuck about Halley-Prime! She’s gone, probably dead, and honestly, good riddance. The sooner we all move on, the better our new lives will be.” 

I frown at the blind quadruple amputee. Right, so much better. “Then how did you learn about Halley-Prime?”

“I got another promotion.” Halley-18 pauses, “Roll me onto my back.”

I sigh wetly and grab Halley by her smooth shoulder and hip again, and flopped her onto her back. She lifts her head and sniffs the air as I pull away. “Why does your face smell so much like pussy?”

“My diet.”

Halley-18 laughs, “I make a pretty tasty snack.” She closes her eyes and stretches languidly, making a showcase of her limbless body. Again I find my eyes tracing over her helpless form, arresting on the pink blossom of her glistening wet labia, absolutely ripe for the taking. She’s aroused, she wants me to use her. Fuck. I spare a glance at Halley-16 who is once again hogtied on the floor, but this time with a Symbiotic hood wrapped over her eyes and ears. No one is watching. I could do it, fuck Halley-18 like the toy she so desperately wants to be. That she has made herself into. No one but us would ever know. I feel my pussymouth water and a warmth in my belly. I’m not sure if it’s the power to use Halley or the thought of being helpless that’s got my motor running. It would be so sexy… But what am I even doing!? No! Focus Halley!

“I just ate,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “You were about to tell me about your new promotion. And what you know about Prime.”

Halley-18 pouts, “Almost had you, didn’t I?” She sighs and tilts her head way back, chin aimed at the ceiling. “I got a special assignment, straight from The Serpent herself. Krait told me that our Matron was aware of my good work and that she needed someone trustworthy to recover a package. I asked what sort of package, and was told that knowing wasn’t part of the assignment. I was to find my way to a contact, obtain my objective, and bring it back to Krait unopened.” Halley shrugged her head, “It felt a little ridiculous, beneath me, but sure, I could go fetch a thing. So I greased some palms and snuck into the Port and found my contact, some sort of alien Spacer in a bulky twelve-limbed environment suit. The alien held up a manipulator arm holding a thin rectangular object and made something like the ‘pay up' gesture with another arm. I made the payment and the alien handed me the package, just a thin envelope made of hard plastic, but painted in a jagged stripe pattern of white and red and yellow. It was like a Christmas present wrapped in poison snake skin. I clutched the package to me, nodded and slipped away, went deeper into the port for some privacy. I found a quiet space under the struts of a huge ingot lifter and saw I was alone. I held the envelope up and wondered what was inside. What could justify sending a special courier? What called for the bright warning colors? I turned the object over and studied the closure; it was just a simple aluminum snap and flap, easily opened. I felt around and didn’t feel any sort of tattletale mechanism, but I’m just a dumb Earthling girl living in a sci-fi movie, so who knows, right? Would they know if I opened it? Would I even recognize the contents? Was it just some meaningless information? Could it be dangerous? Maybe it was nothing at all, and this was some sort of loyalty test, a trial run for later jobs. It was so much safer to just leave it alone. But fuck me, I was so curious.”

“Did you open it?”

Halley shakes her head, “No, no I didn’t. I brought it back to Krait unopened. Which I guess was the right move, since it got me promoted to The Serpent’s personal courier.” She grunts a laugh, “I’d finally made the big time! Well, if being a glorified mailman counts as the big time.” She shows a little fang, “Krait sent me all over Flotsam carrying sealed packages or fetching private messages for The Serpent. I do mean everywhere too: all over the city, but also across species and class. The Syndicate has a sharp little claw in all sorts of things, from the dirtiest human street thug to the fanciest Blue Culture Leader. So I figured out how to travel between worlds. I learned how to wear my authority among criminals, how to carry myself like a badass and dress in backless tops to show off my scales. I learned how to pass professionally too. I learned the art of demurely blending into polite company dressed in my business best and how to draw empty attention wearing something femme and flirty. Become a quiet functionary or a harmless piece of eye candy.” Halley searches blindly for me, “I was good at it too. It’s amazing how much potential we Halleys have if we just get going…”

“So how does the Serpent’s personal courier end up limbless in the Sexbox?”

Halley-18 smiles with an edge, “Because I learned something about Halley-Prime.”

Here we go. “I’m all ears.”

“That’s a weird body mod choice, but who am I to judge?” She wiggles helplessly.

My facial vulva try and tug into a grin, “You have no idea.”

Halley-18 squints as if she might be able to see and pouts. “Teasing the blind… and people think I’m the mean one.”

“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.”

“Oh! Is it interesting?”

I stroke a finger along my slick pussymouth and shiver, “I think you’ll like it.”

Halley chews her lip and arches her back, lifting up her breasts. “You better not be teasing…” she purrs helplessly.

I feel my face blush in embarrassed arousal. This is getting out of hand but, “I’ll give you a special kiss if you tell me what you learned about Halley-Prime.”

Halley-18’s face scrunches up in thoughtful suspicion before relaxing in surrender. “Deal.” Halley sighs, “I’ve always been too curious for my own good.”

“You and me both…”

Halley-18 smiles thinly, “One day Krait came to my little bolthole apartment with a Special Assignment. Well, all of my jobs were special assignments, but this one was unusual.”

“Unusual how?”

“It was way, way out in the Junk Desert. Which was weird. My courier work took me all over the city and occasionally into the outskirts, but I’d never been sent out into the Deep Scraplands. Who was even out there? Why did they need to send a Courier? The Syndicate has tame Salvagers, experienced Junk Desert teams, why not use them? Why me?” Halley shakes her head, “It didn’t make any sense. So I asked, and the funny thing is Krait actually answered. She smiled too, mischievously, conspiratorially, and told me that someone found The Black Box.”

“The what?”

“The Memory Crystal of the craft that abducted us from the Trailer Park.”

“What!?”

Halley nods her head and smiles with fang, “Exactly. It seems some Scavenger way out in the Junk found a fresh crash site, the wreckage from a modern Tall White Corsair that maybe spent a little time near Earth. The Scavenger told Dealers, the Dealers told Brokers, and the Brokers told the Syndicate. And when The Serpent learned the Memory Crystal was intact, she decided she wanted it.”

“Why? What does a crime lord care about Halley-Prime?”

“According to Krait: nothing. The Serpent gives zero fucks about some Earthling orphan girl and her disappearance. There’s no profit in that. No clout. No power,” Halley-18 shakes her head and wets her lips. “Instead The Serpent wanted evidence of who hired Tall White mercenaries to abduct us. Kidnapping Native Earthlings interferes with the Earth Experiment, which is a giant fucking big no-no. It violates an Accord between all the big players: The Grey, The Blue Meta-Assembly, The Reptilian Houses, The Annunaki, The-Guardians-Who-Remain-Behind, The Uplifted, The Naiad High Confluence, The Free Human Diaspora In Aggregate, The Aquarian Court, The August, The Plejarens, The Nordic Clans, The-One-Who-Was-Many, The Agarti, The Exiled, and so on. Even The White Assembly signed the thing, and they’re basically piratical anarchists. Whoever paid for the abduction totally fucked up, and The Serpent wanted Leverage. And so she sent me out into the Junk to purchase the Memory Crystal.”

“Awfully convenient sending a Halley to get dirt on Halley…”

Halley-18 shrugs her armless shoulders, “I was The Serpent’s trusted courier; it was a coincidence not a conspiracy.”

I smirk with my eyes, “Other than the conspiracy to blackmail some rich aliens.”

“Exactly.”

“So what happened?”

“I went and got the thing, obviously. To keep things quiet I posed as another Halley, Halley-13, one of the more misadventurous Scavengers in our cohort, and rented a shitty old Skimmer from some dodgy Outfitter. Then I spent a long bad week hauling ass into the Junk to the rendezvous: some crappy little capsule shack on the edge of a blasted out debris field. I landed on the perimeter and was met by this grizzled old human prospector. He was albino pale and wrinkled and wore black welding goggles over his eyes and had strange metal implants covered in fractal etchings. If I had to guess he was an exile from an Agarti planet. He had the stoop of a tunnel dweller, y’know?” Halley-18’s eyes squinted like she was looking at something. “The Scavenger confirmed he'd already gotten his payment so I smiled my charming best and asked for the package. The Scavenger held up the Memory Crystal, a heart sized cube of smoked glass. The man glanced back at his shack where I saw something like a lobster centaur with so many feelers move in the shadows. He worked his jaw and asked if this squared his other debt, and I nodded, told him that once I delivered the goods to my Matron all would be forgiven. The Scavenger smiled yellow and broken and handed me the Memory Crystal. I hurried back to the Skimmer, hit the skies, and gunned it for home.” 

“So what did the Memory Crystal say?”

Halley-18 frowns, “I never found out. Krait met me as soon as I pulled into the city and marched me straight to The Dragon’s Pyramid.” 

“Right to the boss herself.”

“Yeah, which was also weird. I’d always worked directly for Krait and been kept at a distance. I’d never actually met The Serpent or been inside her citadel.” Halley bites her lip and wiggles. “This was a major change.”

“When we reached the Pyramid, Krait brought me to a hidden entrance that led down below the palace, down into the labyrinth. The corridors were a maze, but Krait knew exactly where to go, her boots clicking on the stone floor and her hair rattles hissing. The air was heavy with humidity and uncomfortably warm. I could feel the weight of the building all around me, pressing down on me, making me claustrophobic. I clutched the Memory Crystal in my hands so tightly it hurt.”

Halley-18 pauses to take a few calming breaths. is she upset? I rest my hand on her smooth shoulder and she startles, and then smiles a little. “Thanks.” 

“Of course.”

“I was brought to a small bare room with a plain steel table and a chair that was bolted to the floor. It looked like an interrogation room. I felt a sudden spike of fear, turned to leave, but Krait put her hands on my shoulders and stopped me. Sssit she hissed. So I sat in the chair, swallowed, and tried not to look fucking scared. Krait studied me, a small smile on her lips, and asked for the Memory Crystal. I handed it to her and she left the room, left me there alone, hands and fingers twisting in knots.” Halley-18 swallows, “And then a voice hissed into the room: Exsssssscellent work. I sat up startled, glanced around, saw I was still alone. The voice grunted a laugh and I breathlessly asked if it was my Matron. Yessssss. I asked why I was there. The Serpent paused and told me: I hate loossssse endsssss. My heart hammered in my chest and my throat gagged with fear. I was starting to panic. I clutched the steel table with my trembling scaled hands. I promised The Serpent that I could keep a secret! That I’d never tell a soul! That she could trust me! Trussssst is for Foolssssss. The door opened and Krait came back into the room. She was carrying something. A thin rectangle. An envelope. An envelope covered in poisonous white and red and yellow stripes. My envelope. Krait carefully opened the envelop and cautiously drew out a single sheet of paper, her eyes intently cast away. I whimpered, looked around for an escape and then back at Krait just in time to see her hold the paper up toward me.” Halley-18 is panting and beaded with sweat.

I squeezed her shoulder again, “Wh-what was it?”

“A pattern.” Halley whispered. “A pattern of such hypnotic perfection that I couldn’t look away. It snared me through my eyes and I fell deep into it, perfectly still and staring…” She bit a trembling lip, “It was only for a moment but I felt something in my mind slip, realign, change somehow. I’d become different, new in some way I couldn’t quite explain, but I knew something was wrong… that I was wrong! That I was incorrect! That I wasn’t what I should be!” Halley looks at me with wide sightless eyes, a frantic passion on her face. “There was too much of me! I was too complex! I held up my hands, my hideous, awful hands. I screamed! What had I become!? I was frantic! Help me! Help! I wailed at Krait who stared at me in fright. Fix me! Make me pure! Interessssting my Matron hissed. I screamed again! I wanted to smash the table, but every movement was a reminder of how I was wrong! Fucking fix me!”

Halley-18’s tiny body is heaving. “And then the cell door opened again and another woman joined us. Fix me, I pleaded. She had mousey brown hair and no mouth, just smooth skin below her nose. Her eyes were hard and blazed with something like hatred. Help me, I begged. Her nostrils flared and she nodded. She took me by my hands and I recoiled, repulsed by their existence, but the woman held on tight. Suddenly a soothing warmth started to flow down my hated limbs. I gasped and watched as my fingers turned to wax, boneless and loose and flowed into my palms. Joy filled me as the warmth grew and my hands melted into my wrists, into my arms, into my shoulders.” Halley smiles in bliss, flexes her armless shoulders and sighs. “My terrible arms were gone.”

“But that wasn’t enough! I needed more! My horrific complexity needed to be excised! More I wailed! The woman, the Shaper, nodded and reached out for my legs. My heart leapt in my chest as she placed my feet up onto the table and dissolved them into my body. I was limbless!” Halley smiles at me deliriously. “I felt so much better! Cleaner, refined, purified. But it still wasn’t enough! I was still so wrong. I needed to be concentrated more. More! More I moaned! No, the Serpent said to us, That’sssss enough. No I gasped in dismay. Disappointment flashed in the Shaper’s eyes. Releassssse her, The Serpent hissed, I want to sssee how thisss playsss out. Krait asked, but what if she talks? Sssshe won’t. But Matron… Do not quessstion my motivessss. And then I was being bundled out of the room, tears streaking down my face. Disgusted with myself. Good luck my little Glassss Sssnake.”

“Jesus fuck… what the fuck happened?”

Halley-18 swallows and tries to regain her composure. “It’s called a memetic weapon,” she said with a husky voice. “Humans were created as servants, and our minds have an operating system. That pattern in the envelope was an exploit, a conceptual weapon designed to rewrite the mind to want a kind of oblivion.” Halley smiles thinly. “Clem and HAL-E did all they could for me. They brought psychics to fix my mind, but the Memetic Weapon had cut too deep, changed the fundamentals too profoundly for them to help. HAL-E created a Counter Pattern, an anti-meme, and it stopped me wanting to fade away to nothing, but some of the damage was permanent. I still want to be reduced, to be limbless and helpless and small. It’s who I am now. Clem tried to regrow my limbs but I refused, fought her, begged to be reduced further instead, which she wouldn’t do.” Halley sighed.

I nodded, everything was making a certain kind of sense now. “How did you end up in the Sexbox?”

Halley licks her lips and flexes her quadruple amputee body provocatively.  “A girl’s gotta eat.”

“There must have been other options…”

Halley-18 frowns, “I don’t want other options! I’m a fuck toy, a plaything, an object. I love it! I love the feeling of being held down and fucked like a wet and willing hole.” Halley closes her eyes and tilts her head back, “Or being teased for hours, unable to resist, kissed and sucked and prodded and fucked until someone pulls out moments before I orgasm, just to cum all over my face and chest and down into the seam between my abs.” Halley squirms lewdly and I shiver, appalled and aroused at once. “If anything I want more! To be squeezed down further, reduced to just a pair of hips with an ass and tits and a mouth and a pussy. To be blind and deaf and mute and nothing but horny to be fucked. To be only a fuck toy instead of this halfway thing. To be someone’s belonging.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“The cost,” Halley-18 slumps back on her bed. “That kind of extreme Shaping doesn’t come cheap.”

I nod and touch the vulva on my face. I know what it’s like to be forcefully changed and try to embrace it, and what it’s like to still be dissatisfied with my body. How we both got here isn’t really important, it’s about this moment and moving onto the next. If Halley is happy as a living sex toy, who am I to judge? I gently touch Halley-18 and run my finger down her body, starting at her chin, down along her neck, between her tits, down her firm stomach, and stopping on the smooth swell of her pubic mound. Halley shivers and sighs. “So you don’t actually know what was in that Memory Crystal?”

“No.” Halley says, pressing her crotch against my finger. “Probably the only Sapient that knows is the Serpent herself.”

I lean down to Halley-18, press my forehead to hers for a moment, “Thank you.” I close my eyes and kiss her, pushing my pussymouth to her lips, engulfing her mouth and nose in my vulva, rubbing my clit against the spine of her nose. Her sightless eyes go wide in surprise as I pull back, her face slick and wet with my juices. “Fuck me,” she whispers.

“Take care of yourself,” I say to her and scan the room for a distressed Halley-16 so that I can leave. 

I think I found what I was looking for.

***

Chapter 23