The Procurers

The Procurers - Part 6

By Pfantazm

1.6 - THE ZYMOBIUS FILE

As Scott's car pulled up to the spacedock, Minder informed him that a call was coming in from JaSonJa.

"Tell him that I'll call him back in five. Perfect timing as always, JaSon."

The data miner passed through Customs again and hurried on his way to Daybreaker. Meicross, he was sure, would not be around. Daybreaker was parked at an orientation that left his pilot's chair mounted sideways. Since there was nothing else to occupy him on the ship other than his duties, he'd be off in town.

That same parking job left his workstation normally vertical and fairly drenched in gravity. Despite the familiarity of the room, it felt uncomfortable to be that heavy there.

Scott initiated a com to JaSon, who answered in short order. Geek that he was, even he needed advice on the world of computing. If anyone knew what Scott needed to know, this would be the person.

"Can't happen."

"Nice to see you too, JaS. Can't happen?"

"Can't happen. Whatever you're trying to rig up, no one has done it before, and I'm not even sure anyone has come close."

Scott sighed. "Hate to say you're wrong, but did happen. Not only have I seen such a file in action just today, but I have another such file in my archives. Dr. Zymobius had one kicking around."

JaSon's soft, nearly feminine features wrinkled slightly as he took in this new information. "You're bullshitting me."

"Hey, I'd pass you a copy, but it's too valuable to me this very second to lose. Besides I've promised the thing to someone else."

"You what?"

"I have 48 hours to crack it and figure out what its mojo is, or I lose the thing. Please, go back and do the search. Also see if this UID..." Scott passed Evan's Universal Identifier over, "has anything to do with it. He's the one with the other file."

"Ack. This one's on me."

"Oh, no," Scott said, smiling. "That's how I got myself into this mess. I didn't check the file before agreeing to give it away at no charge. I'm paying, just in case you find something."

"What happened to 'double my fee'?"

Scott laughed. "Alright. Double if you actually find anything. It'll be worth it. Single if you come up empty."

"Deal," JaSon said. "You better get started if you only get 48 hours. I don't even know how I'd begin to design something like that." But Scott could see in his eyes that he'd already done so.

"Signing off." They each closed their connections.

Scott began to prepare his workstation for the task ahead. He called up the names of some of the reverse engineering software he would need, and he unpacked the bitbox and doggie bag from the restaurant. A background program in Scott's implants provided the phrase 'greasy spoon', complete with definition to sink into his subconscious.

He'd been in such a hurry to leave, he hadn't even touched his salad. It seemed he wasn't missing much. The lettuce looked thin and positively anemic. The tomato was a red, gritty mush. Scott wasn't even sure it was real plant matter. While the programs were loading, he peered into the container.

Data, some alarming numbers, flickered in his vision where only he could see them. He leaned down closer to the dish for somewhat better magnification. His eyes refocussed, and more numbers came.

"Minder, search the 'net for microbug detection software compatible with Daybreaker's systems. Use the salad on my workstation table to test them. Tell me everything you can about the one in there."

Searching....

Evan hid the airbike and crept back to the abandoned levels of the building where he and OJ had been hiding for the past few days. It was gutted in places, and the external plasticrete was crumbling. This was the reason they were hiding there: lots of opportunity to get out from lots of directions. Evan picked up a chunk of the chalky, but tough, stuff and rammed it against the wall a few times. It made a distinctive clunking sound whose echoes could be heard a long way away within the building.

He heard OxygenJim crawl out of his hiding place. He rushed over to Evan and hugged him. Evan didn't let go until OJ did first. "How did the meeting with Quinn go?" the redhead asked.

"I'm pretty sure I got him. I even weaselled him into a spot where he figures he only has a few days to figure things out. There's no way he'll crack it that fast. He told me as much. When his time is up, I'll have him."

"You think he's interested enough not to give it up when he's agreed to?"

"Oh, yeah." Evan smiled. "Let's go inside. I want to relax."

They went through a couple of doorways to one of the internal rooms where they'd found some abandoned furniture. There was a single bed whose stuffing material had all but fallen out, and a gel couch that was missing its back. OJ slept on what was left of the couch, with his head on the armrest. Evan usually took the rather lumpy bed, and took it with his usual even temper. It was the least he could do for OJ after getting him in the mess they were in. He tried not think of any other friends he might have disappeared on.

This afternoon they shared the gel couch. They sat facing each other, Evan with his legs spread and one foot on either side of the couch, and OJ leaning forward and cross-legged. "So, tell me everything!" Jim asked.

Evan summarized the conversation they'd had, from their first meeting to when Quinn had hurried away to try to meet the deadline he'd set.

"You called him a chiphead?" OJ said, dismayed.

"Yeah, it, uh, kinda slipped out. He didn't act like he noticed."

"Well, he was trying to figure out his file at that point, wasn't he? If he does have implants he noticed. The foremost benefit of getting cerebral implants is enhanced memory. You'll have to be sure to be extra polite to him from now on."

Evan grinned. "You say that like you think I don't know how to play nice. You know better." He got up and leaned forward over OJ, edging him backwards into his armrest.

Jim smiled up at Evan. "Oh, I know you can play nice. On the other hand, we don't know if he's into guys, or into you."

"Hmmm. Now there's something I didn't think of. The three of us partying on his spaceship. Guys like him, all business, really uptight, can be the most fun to loosen up. Then again, he didn't even look at Hatcher."

"Oh, you went to the East Side Eatery? Hatcher always did look good. And Quinn? How did he look?"

"Well, shorter than me, say about one-metre-seven-oh, thin but not starving, classical look. Handsome. Business haircut and socially- acceptable brown-and-brown coloration. You usually go for the intellectual types, not me."

OJ laughed. "Oh, so I should seduce him so we can get a ride with him."

"No, you should sleep with me so I can ride you." He started undoing OJ's shirt.

"Oh, how romantic."

They undressed each other, and when they were done, the weight of Evan pressed Jim into the couch. They made out with each other. OJ's fingers dug shallow depressions into the familiar hills of muscle on either side of Evan's spine. Evan's thigh pressed intrusively between Jim's legs, forcing them apart. The copper-haired man wriggled seductively under Evan's frame, and his moist cock rubbed against his leg and across his hip.

Evan feasted on OJ's slender neck. The psych's head rolled back over the armrest, yielding more space for Evan to graze on. Jim panted, as his friend's well-tuned body bucked against him, his hot cock working back and forth along his side, and Jim's own equipment grinding into Evan's quads.

OJ reached up and held Evan's nipple between two fingers, pinching it and twisting it gently. A low moan erupted from Evan's throat, and he pressed his hand against Jim's chest. The black-haired fugitive's body arched, and now his tongue and lips were caressing OJ's own tit.

Jim reached down and shifted his sex partner's cock in its course across his body. He budged and trapped the long, hot dick between his own legs, so that when Evan humped his muscular frame against his, the cockhead bumped against OJ's ass.

Now that it had been given a target, Evan's sex homed in and drove harder. As Evan's body shifted, he got closer and closer to the soft pucker that led into OJ's body. Soon, Evan was leaning over OJ, with one of his legs help up over his hip, and Evan's heat was tapping insistently at Jim's entrance.

"Turn over," he whispered.

While OJ got out from under him, Evan grabbed the lube from the table next to the couch, and squirted some onto himself. OJ settled himself on his knees on the couch, his ass in the air and his arms braced against the solid gel-filled arm. Evan laid his hand on OJ's ass, his fingertips surrounding OJ's balls. He stroked OJ a few times, causing him to rock back and forth against his hand. Then Evan poured lube onto his fingers and teased the redhead's hole again.

In no time at all they were ready and the pair were spooning on their knees. Evan's manhood eased deliberately through the first of Jim's defenses. Both men sighed as the bulbous cockhead pierced the muscle.

Evan reflected that despite the number of times the two of them had had sex, for any of a thousand reasons or for no reason at all, there was always still a freshness. The elements were all there: the feel of Jim's chute as his shaft made its way inside, the sudden feeling of sweat on his forehead, the sensation of the skin on OJ's back against his chest as their hips rocked in synchronization. OJ reached back to touch Evan's hip, a tender gesture that he wasn't even sure he was aware of. Sex does not get boring, Evan knew, or else the worlds would not be here.

Evan pawed Jim's flat stomach. Jim groaned and laid his head on Evan's shoulder. Evan's stiffness smacked wetly as his pace quickened. A stray gust of wind, whipping through the towering structures beyond the broken walls, swept over the two men's gyrating forms. Jim shivered slightly at first, then more violently, sending sympathetic vibrations down Evan's length and into his spine. Evan twitched in response, jamming against OJ's sweet spot more forcefully than usual. The redhead's muscles spasmed and he found that he was spilling his seed across the armrest and onto his fingers, flinging white cream everywhere.

"Now I can really go," Evan murmured into his friend's ear. He gripped his body tight against him and his fucking kicked into a higher gear. As he sped up the last dregs of Jim's spunk were wrung from his body.

Any other time, OJ thought, it seemed like Evan tried to cum at around the same time as he did. This time, all OJ could do was hang on to his armrest and hold on for the ride.

Evan was pumping his ass like a man possessed. Jim felt the slap of his friend's hips against his cheeks, his balls crashing into his own again and again. He turned his head and saw Evan's head was bowed. OJ figured he was staring down at himself, as his lovely cock disappeared into him, only to peek out, then hide away again.

For another ten minutes or so, they went on like that, strong, dark Evan relentlessly pounding away. Finally, Evan asked if they could change positions.

Evan lay back on the couch, and OxygenJim lowered himself onto his thick shaft. This time, as his body bucked up and down on Evan's cock, he could watch the sensations wash over his face.

Evan took OJ's own flagging dick into his hands. There were traces of sticky cum still on the tip. He smeared it over the surface of his cockhead using his thumb. OJ was recovering from the last time he'd shot and the feeling of a warm, solid cock in his ass was starting to get to be really good again. The redhead's pecker stirred from the stimulation outside and in.

Evan had his head back and his eyes closed. His legs were propped up on the side of their couch. He was slowly bouncing off the cushions now. OJ was still doing most of the work, but Evan was helping to drive his hardness up and into OJ's hot hole.

Jim's cock was standing at attention now, pointing straight back at Evan's face, and colored an angry red. He was fully recovered from shooting his load before, and every pass of Evan's thick head over his prostate energized him. His thrusts, dropping him onto Evan's invader came faster with each moment. Evan was stroking him, but he resolved not to cum until Evan did. He clamped his ass muscles down on Evan.

Evan's legs stiffened straight out and up and OJ felt the orgasm build beneath him as his balls contracted under his ass. Evan gasped, his rhythm faltered and suddenly his ramrod-straight cock jammed itself inside his partner.

OJ felt Evan's cock recoil in his ass with every forceful burst of cum that shot forth. Still, OJ bucked up and down, fucking himself on that cannon, and seconds later, the overwhelming urge took him too, and white cream touched down on Evan's sculpted chest and stomach.

The two friends stayed there a moment or two, locked in that position temporarily by anatomy and found their breath again. Evan looked over and saw that his hand was resting on OJ's hip. He stroked OJ's pure skin and smiled at him. OJ grinned back and he got up on his knees to let Evan out.

Evan unstraightened his legs and let them fall on either side of the couch. Cum started its zigzagging path down his body. "It's always so good with you. I'm amazed that it seems to get better each time."

"Practice makes perfect. So how long do we have to practice?"

"Until tomorrow night. I meet with Raven and the buyer at the Black Hole."

OJ frowned. "Why there? That doesn't strike me as being the safest place."

Evan shrugged and ran his thumb across his friend's hip some more. "It is for him. From what Raven tells me, the buyer is enough into that place that if something bad goes down, he'll be protected."

"Will you be, though?"

"Don't worry about me...."

OJ pushed Evan's hand from his hip. "How can I not be worried? If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be in this mess. I'd be able to go home and get a change of my own clothes instead of some castoffs you found void- knows-where. I'd be able to go back to work. And if something happens to you, I'm stuck here, forever! I have no place to go, I can't get in touch with any of my friends, and what about them? If I was close enough to you to get pulled in, they could get the list from my qputer and hunt them down! They could be dead, Evan!"

Evan shushed OJ and held him. "I know you want reassurance right now, man, but there just isn't any. If they kill me, they might leave it there, but that's real unlikely since I won't have the package with me then. They'll want to know where it is.

"By now, they know it's just you and me that left. Everyone else should be safe. We just have to believe that, because we'll never know any different. But yes, if they get me, they'll try to find you next. You know they won't get any bits out of me. I'm a former corp thug, remember? They can't force your location out of me. Just do like I told you. Give Quinn the bitbox with the Jasper 220 file in it. He should help you out in exchange. Don't bargain for it. Just do what it takes to get yourself off this rock. You got it?"

Evan had gone over his escape plan with him before. "I got it." But he needed to know his friend would be safe tomorrow night.

It was now late at night where Daybreaker was docked, some thirty hours after the meeting at the greasy spoon. Scott was desperately trying to process the data he was collecting as fast as he could decompress it. He sat at a table in Daybreaker's galley that could be folded out when the ship was docked and all the rest of the furniture appeared to be bolted to the wall. He was getting a headache.

Minder chimed to interrupt. "Yes," Scott asked, his eyes fixed on nothing.

The report on the tracking device found in your salad is complete.

Scott finished the block he was slogging through, his hand pointing in Minder's direction as though to keep its attention but have it wait until he was ready.

The data hacker's vision refocussed. "What have you found out?" he asked the floating sphere.

The agent quickly outlined the bug's manufacturer, model, and capabilities. In the middle of the speech, the sound of someone climbing the passenger stairs registered in Scott's mind. Meicross, the pilot, appeared in the main hatchway and listened.

The device, said Minder, was a simple homing device which activated upon ingestion. It had no audio pick-up; it merely reported its location to the receiver. This unit was never activated because Scott never ate it.

When Minder was finished, Meicross said, "Can't I leave you alone for a day without you gettin' in trouble, boss?"

Scott smiled. "Have you found a suitable detection program for these things?"

I have.

"I'll use whatever you recommend, Minder. I haven't got the time to go over them now. Thank you."

Minder reset itself to its station. Meicross asked, "Have we got a job already, boss?"

Scott briefly sketched out his file's peculiarities for Meicross.

"Wow, boss. A file that you can't copy no matter what you do. I bet the entertainment industry would love to lay their hands on that. They been having copyright problems for years."

"Since the beginning of the twenty-first century, really. And before, but to a much lesser degree," Scott agreed.

"And you're goin'a solve the problem in, how long?"

Scott smirked. "Twelve hours."

"Well, I hope you're gettin' a ton of money for it, boss, 'cause you look like shit, like you always do when you're that close to blowin' a circuit."

"Okay, Meicross, I see where you're going: I've taken on a Herculean task again, but this is the find of the millennium! Of several millennia! What am I supposed to do, just sit on my hands and let it slip away?"

"Why's it gotta slip away?"

Scott told him the rest of the story, about Evan and their meeting that afternoon.

"That the same meeting where you picked up that pinger?"

"The same," Scott confirmed.

"So whatcha gotta do here is obvious: use your twelve-odd hours figuring Evan out, not the file. Find a way to get him to give you both files, and find out why he's buggin' your salad."

Scott said, "You think it was definitely him?"

"Who else knows or cares that you're here?"

"True, but as far as I know, Evan hasn't been trying very hard to find us. He didn't ask me where we're docked, for example, and if he wanted to know without my being aware of it, he knows we're from off-planet and he know's the ship's name. Our docking station is in the public registry. He could just look it up. Why go to all the trouble?"

"Good point," Meicross said.

"Maybe someone is bugging him, and they either got me by mistake or they decided to check me out just because they could."

"Do you think it has something to do with the file?"

Scott scratched his chin. "Maybe. I don't know enough about this Evan to know one way or the other. In either case, if I'd eaten that salad here, whoever is on the other end of the receiver would have had just enough information to find me before my implants killed the bug. No matter how or why it happened, I'm involved."

Meicross recognized that everybody-better-watch-out tone. "What are you going to do?"

"The first step is to find Evan."

Evan's e-mail agent chimed. It chimed again a moment later, then took this audio message from Scott_Quinn.

"Hello, Evan.

"I am afraid that I am unable to uncover the inner workings of my file in such a brief span of time. I realize that I agreed to hand over the file to you, but I submit that I can still be of service to you if you want to know their secrets. If I can't crack them, I have the contacts and the resources to interface you with people who can.

"There is one other matter that I should tell you about: I found a microscopic homing device in the food I took home from our first meeting. Whether you were responsible or not, we should talk.

"Scott_Quinn out."

OxygenJim was asleep when the a-mail arrived, and Evan wasn't there to receive it.