Kor Part 14

cg-author (56)in #story • 5 years ago

Laren looked back over their shoulder at Kor as he approached. But the woman wearing the long black trench coat and a brimmed hat was what drew his attention.

"Dunno, she won't tell me."

The tattoos covering her face, not to mention the chrome of her eyes, made it difficult to tell her age. Bluish-green crosses adorned each cheek, with a matching one set on her brow. About Kor's height, but slim in the shoulders and hips, she turned and met his eyes as he entered the room, held the noodles out to him as if the takeout were a sacrificial offering.

"Just wanted to stop by and give my regards, Mr. Menelaunicus." Her lips curled as the last couple words left her mouth, and Kor silently cursed Tisbel. "And, in all fairness, it's not that I won't tell her - she never asked."

"He," Kor said. "Apparently prefers that."

If the woman rolled her chrome eyes, Kor couldn't tell for sure. But something about her shoulders and shift of her hips told him she did.

"Doesn't matter if Laren asked already. Because now I am."

The woman smiled, and her even, perfect teeth formed a crimson slash across her face. The smile didn't reach her eyes, and the metallic orbs seemed to ripple and shimmer as they looked Kor over. Something told Kor half of what the woman has said while he was in the hall was specifically for his benefit, so he would know that she was onto him. Or at least think it.

"Agent Toseroxt, but everyone calls me Tose." As she spoke, her hand went to her inside coat pocket, and Kor took a step forward. "Relax, soldier, just reaching for my badge."

"This an official visit?" Kor asked as she held it out for inspection. Special Agent Maria Toseroxt, Port Council Security. He looked over the badge, was careful not to touch it. Tisbel had submitted a DNA sample and his biometrics to the Port Council, but that didn't mean he needed to give them more. Let the enemy supply their own ammunition.

Port Security already? He couldn't have created that much of a ripple in the stream of information, not yet. He looked her over again. "Nice tattoos. Some of my people get those, too."

She sneered, her lip curling. "Not like mine, they don't."

Kor's nostrils flared as his eyes searched the agent's face. Whoever she was, and whatever her people were, she seemed to think she knew an awful lot about Menelauns. She'd spoken with the easy confidence of ingrained belief, of casual prejudice and bias. Her people must have warred with his own at some point, he realized. Of course, that didn't narrow anything down. His people had fought or subjugated more or less every race in the known galaxy at one point or another.

For her part, Agent Toseroxt stared right back, her body unnaturally steady as she stood there still as a statue, noodles held out in front of her. Unnerved by her liquid metal gaze, Kor had to fight the urge to wave a hand in front of her face to see if she would react. How much machine was she?

Off to the side, Laren swallowed, nearly gulped. Their head was on a swivel, now, moving back and forth between the two guests as they seemed to try and decipher what exactly to do.

The spicy, savory smell of the promised Anglish-Urse noodles curled and twisted through the air between them, teased at Kor's nose and drew out saliva till his mouth was watering. His stomach grumbled as he clenched jaw, narrowed his eyes.

"Laren," Kor began after a long moment, breaking the impasse, "why don't you take dinner from our guest?"

"Uh..."

"Don't worry, she won't bite. Will you, Agent?"

Toseroxt smiled, bared her teeth again. "And contaminate myself? Purity is next to godliness." Kor had the feeling she'd gotten used to smiling like that the moment she realized how unnerving her red teeth could be to some people.

With him, it didn't work. He remained quite nerved. "So, Agent Toseroxt, what brings you by?" he asked as Laren, careful not to touch Toseroxt's hands, took the noodles and backed out of the line of fire. "Official business, or personal?"

"All business is personal when you love your job, Mr. Menelaunicus. And, besides, why should I spoil all the fun?"

"That what holding our noodles hostage is? Fun?"

"My noodles, remember?" Her coat rippled and trembled as her hands moved to her hips, seemed to move on its own and begin to shift out of the way. "And, no. But keeping you wondering . . . that definitely is. Think of it as a social call."

"Where I'm from, people are polite on social visits." Kor's eyes stayed on hers, and her coat seemed to writhe at the corners of his vision like shadows in a fever dream.

Smart cloth, it had to be. Her coat shifted, stiffened, twitched as if it couldn't decide whether it needed to form a protective shell or strike out at Kor. First, it curled up around her arms, began to stretch across her belly. Second, the coat's bottom hem reached out towards him, formed itself into spikes as the cloth went rigid as steel.

"My apologies," the agent said, smoothed and soothed the garment with a brush of her hand. At her touch, it began to relax. "Mind if I step inside? This thing is getting agitated."

Kor looked to Laren, eyebrows raised. "You live here, not me."

Laren sighed, rolled their eyes as they turned and took the noodles to a small table built from faux-wood. "Fine, uncle, but you have to entertain her. Bitch gives me the creeps, and I'm starving."

Agent Toseroxt smiled, stepped inside. The door slid shut behind her when she was a couple steps past the threshold, and she stopped soon as Kor raised a hand.

"That's far enough. Tell me why you're here. Now."

"Or?" Her liquid metal eyes shifted almost imperceptibly as she looked Kor up and down, that slow smile stretching across her red teeth, which almost perfectly matched in color and tone the dressing gown Laren had given him. "What? You'll expose yourself to me? Seems that's the only thing you'd be able to do in that outfit."

Kor snorted. There wasn't much separating them, and he knew he could close the gap in one long stride, pick her up and slam her back against the sliding door. One handed, he could crush her throat, collapsing her esophagus and restricting blood flow to her brain. She'd be dead within minutes, even if he didn't try all that hard. Unarmed as he was, there was still plenty of damage he could do.

"You're calculating, aren't you?" Agent Toseroxt asked. "Who knows what fail-safes my coat has, though. Know your enemy, Kor. Isn't that what they teach in the Agora?"

Damn. She did know about his people. Quite a bit, too. Kor's hands curled into fists at his side, relaxed as he remembered the vows he'd made, and how he wouldn't be able to keep either of them if he killed this strange woman.

"Just ruin the suspense and tell me, Agent. My noodles are getting cold."

Toseroxt chuckled and her smile tightened. "Don't worry, those noodles'll stay hot till the universe's heat death. Not that you'll live that long."

"That a threat?"

"An observation. I'm here, Mr. Menelaunicus, to inform you that I've taken a personal interest in you." Her coat shuddered back to life as she took a step towards him. "That whatever work you have here? I'll be watching you, making sure everything stays above board. That even though the Blues won't make a formal complaint about your escapades, it doesn't matter. Some point, you'll step out of line, we both know you will, and I'll be waiting there with an RR team and every bit of firepower I can muster. I'll put you down like a dog, Kor, then squat on your grave before you've even gone cold."

Kor let the silence seep back in when Toseroxt finished speaking, let it fill the room like wine into a crystal goblet.

"That all?" he finally said. "Thought this was important."

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