Steven Campbell - Hard Luck Hank - Screw the Galaxy

Grever was still speaking rhapsodically about the literal mound of narcotics in front of us.

“…this one will knock you flat, but don’t mix it with this or it might stop your heart. Ah, one of my favorites is this Oranium, which was crazy hard to find. I have this buddy who just—”

“Hey,” I interrupted. “Can you write all this down? I’m not going to remember any of it. And you need to put what amount you got. Oh, and we need to add it all up with my stuff.”

I took out my bag of drugs and laid it on the bed. Grever was momentarily at a loss.

“Write it down? Yeah. I mean, I guess.”

“Do you think my buyer is going to care that I didn’t fill the list specifically? I mean all this stuff is way different.”

“Nah. This is hot material. I pulled out all the stops for you, Hank. No one’s going to be upset when they see this,” he said, spreading out his arms almost angelically over his bed.

We tallied up the haul as Grever made copious comments on every article. He was writing a paragraph on every little drug and I realized we weren’t going to get out of here for days, so I limited him to one sentence apiece.

As soon as we came to any of the drugs I had bought he became instantly derogatory. My stuff was junk. Feeble. It was old. Cut. Probably half-strength at best. I’d overpaid. He wanted to make it clear in the notes which drugs had been provided by him and which were the ones I had procured.

It took several hours but we got it all down.

I wasn’t exactly sure what to do next. The shyster in me wanted to just throw it all in a very large box, as it was probably exceeding several hundred pounds at this point, and drop it on Jyen without the cheat sheet.

She’d have a hard time knowing the lousy state of affairs if it was all piled up. As I was battling with that moral quandary I realized I didn’t have any way of carrying it all, jumbled or not.

We finally had to take several bedsheets and cinch up the corners, and I could lift it like a sack over my shoulder.

I transferred the credits to Grever as agreed. He gave me three different teles I could reach him at if I happened to want some drugs in the future. He was certainly a happy guy for doing business with me. I figure I gave him maybe four to six months of work practically overnight.

Not only that, but he’s likely got wholesale connections so what I could buy for ten grand he could probably get for half that, so he just pocketed a whole lot of credits.

As I was hunching my way down the street to the train with this bag on my back, Grever was practically blowing kisses to see me off. He’d held up his end I think as well as anyone could, I just wasn’t looking forward to speaking with Jyen.

The train was empty. I think The News and general word about town had everyone thoroughly spooked. And to think just a few days back people were on edge about a possible gang war. Seemed like a decade ago and almost quaint in a twisted way.

At home I had not even taken off my shoes when someone was at the door. I had been getting teles like mad for days, but I had been ignoring them.

I figured someone had gotten up the nerve to come for a face-to-face about the Dredel Led. Though I couldn’t tell them anything that Rendrae hadn’t already printed.

I opened the door and it was Jyen. All blue-skinned and big-eared and adorable.

“Ah,” I said. “Come in.”

I was still tired, but better to get this over with as soon as possible. I had some real concerns without this hanging over me.

She remained outside.

“Do you have what I asked you to get?”

“Well, I have this giant rucksack of drugs, but the exact contents aren’t, you know, precisely what your list detailed.” I fumbled with my tele. “I’ve got the specifics here, I can transfer the info.”

“Could you drop them off, please?”

I knew I wasn’t in any place to argue, but some odd thing in me made me say: “Is this going to take long?”

“No,” she said with a bright smile.

I stepped back inside and heaved the drugs over my shoulder and headed out. Jyen seemed a bit startled when I came out.

“That’s it?” she asked, pointing to the bag.

It was one of those times again when we were on different wavelengths. I immediately thought she was asking essentially, “Is that small amount all that constitutes my drug purchase?” As if I should have come out dragging a transport ship. Or maybe a destroyer.

“Yes. Yes, this is it,” I answered sarcastically.

“Oh, it just seems like a lot. Can you carry that okay?”

My attitude brightened. If she was expecting less, then maybe this won’t turn out so rotten. Maybe I can make up in quantity what I was lacking in everything else.

“No, it’s fine.”

She led the way and to my surprise, she literally entered the apartment building directly across the street from mine. I suppose that’s how she knew I was home. She must spend her time staring out the window, checking for her drugs.

We headed up a few flights, mostly because I was following her. I normally would have taken the elevator. I don’t like stairs much. Going up stairs I’m positively glacial, especially when carrying an unwieldy storehouse of narcotics.

We came to her place and she opened the door.

The apartment was completely unfurnished. Looked unlived in. Except for the druggie sitting on the bare metal floor against the wall.

“Hank, this is my brother,” Jyen said, pointing.

I didn’t really care. Yeah it was unusual for someone who was maybe 5’2” with electric blue skin and practically tentacle-like ears to say she was related to a 6-foot lanky man with pale skin, an oddly misshapen face, and from what I could tell under an unkempt mass of scraggly hair, normal-sized ears. But it was simply none of my business.

What was apparent, though, was that all these drugs were for him. If anyone on Belvaille was an addict, it was this guy. His fingernails were long and yellow and almost beastly, and they picked at his uneven face with an insect-like rhythm.

“Where do you want this?” I asked, looking around. But there was no difference between here and there, as there was no furniture. So I just put it on the ground.

The junkie immediately moved closer. He could probably tell what kind of drugs they were just from the sound they made when they were laid on the floor.

“Jyonal, this is Hank. He’s the one who’s helping us,” Jyen said somewhat maternally.

I wasn’t sure how much I was “helping” them, unless they had an incalculable fear of living long lives and being aware of their surroundings.

“So,” I began uneasily, “I’ve got these notes on the drugs.”

Jyonal scurried over and untied the sheets with his skinny fingers. He spread out the drugs and his mouth opened in what approximated awe. He brushed his hands over them, turning this and that, lifting some, smelling others. It was almost animalistic.

He then grabbed one that particularly caught his eye. He looked at me and reached out and took my hand in his. I don’t have much of a sense of touch in my palms, but his skin felt rough and flaky. He then sprinted out of sight into one of the other rooms.

“Yeah. So about the payment and such. I didn’t make the time we agreed on, I know. And I didn’t quite—”

“Are there really Dredel Led on the station?” Jyen interrupted.

“What? Uh, yes. I mean I didn’t see them personally, but I saw a video. We have people looking for them.”

“Have they ever been here before?”

“Not to my knowledge. I mean, I don’t think they’ve been anywhere in Colmarian space, right? Not for a long time. But about the drugs.”

She looked down at the pile for the first time.