Stable Wor 02: First Gig

A man wearing a light brown leather jacket leaned his way into the cabin and sat in a manner best described as collapsing. He landed with one foot on the table as he lounged in the seat across from Johnny, his hands resting behind his head of curly ginger hair. Johnny took in the whole of the man across from him before meeting eyes and holding the gaze a moment.

"Been to Gloria before?" the man asked.

Johnny shook his head. "No, you?"

"Ahh yeah," the man assured him with a sigh, grinning. "Johnny, is it?"

"Yeah, you?" Johnny said, extending his hand.

The gesture was ignored. "That bitch didn't tell you anything about this planet, did she?"

Johnny sat back, crossing his arms. "What bitch is that?"

"Margo."

"Margo? She told me to take this train to the capital settlement and..."

The man scoffed angrily and made a motion to one of the inhabitants of the planet, a woman who had stopped in the doorway to look in. She was big; Johnny was almost two meters tall and tried to tell himself that he only felt small because he was sitting, but everything seemed to be bigger here. The Glorian woman moved on, and the lanky stranger pushed the door of the train's cabin shut with his foot. "She must really have it out for you."

"Who, Margo? Why, do you think?"

"She sent you to stud on Gloria without telling you about the market here! You're lucky you haven't been locked up in some dungeon yet."

Johnny took a long moment to consider his reply. "I meant, 'why does she have it out for me?'"

The man shrugged lazily, gazing up and out the window. "You sit up straight like that, you're asking for a challenge, man. This is a harsh world, and it made people harsh in a hurry. They got a saying here: bend with the wind, and you can stay safe but to be strong, you stand and test yourself constantly."

"Not very punchy," Johnny said.

The man snorted, tossing his mop of hair. "You joke, but she should have at least given you a travel primer. Here, you can borrow mine."

Johnny caught the small single-file reader. "Thanks."

The man smiled, nodding when Johnny relaxed his posture, the first bit of advice the primer offered for those not wanting to be challenged. "That's it, man, best to just relax and enjoy yourself."

"Sure," Johnny agreed, slouching further into the seat as he scanned the text. "So who are you, exactly?"

"That bitch didn't even tell you I was meeting you? Goddamn it, when I see her..."

"You're... from the stable?"

"You catch on quick, Johnny boy. Gloria's pretty intense for a first gig, we didn't want you swallowed up by the place. I'm James. Jamie, usually, but you seem to be owning the whole 'J name with a familiar diminutive that actually makes it longer by adding an 'e' sound' thing."

"I didn't even know it was a 'thing'," Johnny said, glancing up from the primer. "Nice to meet you, Jamie."

Jamie waved away Johnny's offered hand, then returned his behind his head. "Word of warning; you don't want to shake hands here. Not until you have a clan to protect you, anyway."

Johnny nodded, looking back to the reader. "This thing makes the capital sound kind of dangerous."

"It can be," Jamie said. "That's why Margo was a fulltime major bitch for not giving you a proper briefing. How exactly did you piss her off?"

"I don't exactly know," Johnny muttered, frowning at the information in the primer. "What clan are you with?"

"Savvy question, my man," Jamie said. "Clan Club. The rest of the office seemed impressed, but it was like Margo thought you were a plant or something. Are you?"

"A plant?" Johnny put two fingers to his throat, where he could feel his pulse. "No, I appear to be an animal. Human, if I'm not mistaken."

Jamie frowned deeply at the joke, almost threateningly. "You got any tats?"

"No, man," Johnny said, glancing up. "Are you serious? No, I've never been in a faction."

"Care to prove it?"

"You want me to undress for you?" Johnny scoffed. "No, I don't care to do that. Thanks for the primer, but you and Margo can both kiss my ass if you think I'm some faction worm trying to infiltrate your fucking... stable. Fuck." Johnny went back to reading.

After a moment, Jamie stood from his seat and leaned on the wall. "Fair enough, mate," he said.

Johnny nodded without looking up.

"I'm going to grab a snack, you want anything?"

Johnny's stomach growled, and he glanced over. "What's the food like here?"

"Extreme flavors," Jamie said. "It's sour as fuck, or hot as fuck, or sweet as fuck. They make these biscuits with a pate inside that's like eating lava. And I know what you're thinking, smartass, 'when did old Jamie ever eat lava?' Just wait, I'll bring you one, and you'll see what I mean." The man, a human shadow constantly being held up by something or other, slid from the room and shut the door behind him soundlessly.

"Weird," Johnny muttered.

With the more reliable light being beside the door, he lay with his feet propped on the windowsill to get back to the primer. It explained the culture that developed in just the last hundred and fifty years since terraforming had turned this barren rocky planet into something harsh but livable. Anatomical and genetic differences could be detected between all generations of people born on Gloria, and it seemed that the use of regular human material with a Glorian resulted in healthier children than any pure Gloria born pairing. So far, no pairing between second generation Glorians had produced living children.

The hope seemed to be that in time Gloria would continue to shape their bodies until they adapted to survive the contamination there, or found a way to combat it more effectively. For now, they relied on injections of clean genes to keep their fledgling species going. Their civilization, divided by clan, had a global agreement that the service of any stud could not cross those lines, for what they believed was their best chance of strength passing on among future Glorians. When a new bloodline entered the pool, he was offered up at an open auction.

Johnny read the page about the auctions again. He felt more nervous than before; he knew more of what he was getting into, but still had many questions. He lowered the primer at last, and then sat with alarm when he saw that Jamie had returned to his seat, an opaque plastic dome on the table between them.

"Holy fuck," Johnny laughed. "When did you get back?"

"Some time ago now. What do you think?"

"About this?" Johnny raised the primer and handed it back. "I owe you a lot of thanks for this, man. There are so many ways to get 'claimed'... You think Margo wanted that to happen to me?"

Jamie slipped the reader into his pocket as he flowed into a vaguely sitting position. "I'm sure she just did it to mark you out; she sent me to meet you, after all. You didn't do anything to piss her off?"

"I guess I must have, I just don't know what." Johnny shrugged, motioning to the dome, "Is that food?"

"Ta da," Jamie replied, lifting it from a plate to reveal a variety of little cakes. He laughed at Johnny's reaction, which was to cover his nose with the back of his hand to keep from sneezing. "Strong flavors and smells. Try that one, mate, I think you'll like it."

Johnny took the pastry Jamie suggested, flaky and golden brown on the outside, it didn't smell like much of anything, so it wasn't the spicy one. He took a big bite, chewed a couple times, then shoved the rest in his mouth.

"That one's extra special," Jamie said. "The fruit is so bitter, most outworlders can't even eat it."

Johnny shrugged, chewing. "Some can."

"Yeah, a particular type. You're a junkie, Johnny?"

Johnny frowned, shaking his head as he swallowed the large, mostly tasteless lump. He took a sip of water from his bottle. "I should have known that was a trisynth test."

"That's a yes, then?" Jamie asked, smiling glibly.

"No," Johnny said, trying not to get angry. "I worked for a lab."

"You, er, said you'd never held to a faction," Jamie reminded him. "Look, if you were, it's fine with me, mate. I've met some faction blokes I like loads better than some Alliance blokes, know what I mean?"

"No," Johnny said, angry enough now to let this asshole know why. "I was born on Lourdes."

"So your parents were faction?"

"My parents? I never met my father; my mother didn't even know his real name. She sold me to trisynth manufacturers when I was seven, and I worked the carrium fields for two years. That's why my sense of taste is weak, especially for bitter."

Jamie melted against his seat, almost became a part of it. "Shit, man," he sighed. "I'm sorry."

Johnny shrugged. He took another biscuit, and a bite of it. "It wasn't your fault. Just... I never met a 'faction bloke' who cared for anything but himself."

"Fair enough, Johnny, fair enough. All I'm saying, is I've been on the bad side of a few Alliance blokes who don't care for anything but being fascist dicks."

Johnny shrugged. He didn't hold to the Alliance, either, one reason being how often he had seen Alliance 'peacekeepers' hurt the powerless for fun. "I suppose that's fair enough, too."

Jamie rolled onto his back as he took a private terminal in hand. Those things were expensive, with most people, like Johnny, dependent on the public system. The stud typed with his thumbs for some seconds, in an obvious conversation over space, reacting with his face as he got each message and often enough glancing at Johnny that he thought he could guess the gist of it.

"Are you telling Margo that stuff right now?" he asked.

"Yup," said Jamie.

"Why?"

"Well, first off to find out how much she can confirm, but maybe also so she'll stop sabotaging you? Where's the thanks for old Jamie, for speaking up on your behalf?"

"Can you just mind your own business?"

"Nah, man, way too juicy," Jamie told him with a grin. "So what happened when you were nine?"

"Fuck you," Johnny said, and ate another biscuit. He found a spicy one, he could feel the burning, but he tried not to show it. He allowed himself a little cough after he'd swallowed. "Lava doesn't taste anything like that."

Jamie chuckled but wouldn't give it up. "Come on, we're colleagues and all that, we ought to get to know each other, eh?"

"Sure," Johnny agreed. "Where are you from, Jamie?"

"London. How'd you get away from the farm?"

Johnny shook his head, looking out the window. "Which 'London'? There's one here on Gloria, if I'm not mistaken."

Jamie chuckled. "New Terra, man."

"So your parents are Alliance?"

"Through and through," Jamie said, performing a lazy, mocking salute. "What happened, mate? How'd you escape from those drug dealers?"

"I bet you had a lot of bullies growing up," Johnny ventured, and sudden full attention in the cold stare confirmed it. "Why don't you tell me about them?"

Jamie rolled his eyes and snorted. "Don't know if the ride is long enough, brother." The light from the window cut off again as they entered a building, and the train slowed. He slithered into some semblance of upright and frowned skeptically as Johnny took to his feet. "You're sure you want to stand like that?"

"Yeah," said Johnny.

Jamie shrugged, motioning to the door, "Lead the way, boss."

Though somewhat nervous, Johnny had decided to get a better clan placement than Jamie the spineless asshole, and that meant standing firm against the wind. It was illegal to kill visitors without a good reason, and studs were a protected class that were basically murder-proof. Too valuable to kill, he could potentially remain locked in a sex dungeon for as long as his healthy semen lasted, about fifteen years on Gloria. A stud could be claimed for losing a challenge, and all kinds of things could be seen as making or accepting a challenge.

By squaring his shoulders as he exited the train, Johnny signaled to everyone there that he was not a weak one to bend to the wind. He had a purpose and pride in it, and he tried to express his confidence in that with a cool gaze, but his heart was hammering against his ribs. Because he had a purpose, they had to yield to him by law. If he didn't flinch or yield before their challenge, he was safe, he didn't have to accept challenges if he had somewhere else to be. He had a purpose, he kept telling himself, as the bulky people of Gloria eyed him up. Studs were celebrities here, news of his arrival created interest already, and now he had opened himself to challenge. They were all thinking of ways to claim him, but he couldn't let anyone divert him.

Johnny ignored the first calls, trying to listen to the slouching shadow of a man next to him without leaning at all. He nodded to what Jamie was saying, hopefully something agreeable, and waited for the first of them to step into his path.

The creature was huge, a man in his seventies at least. A life on the planet left one misshapen, and few got to this man's age, but Johnny only raised his shoulders slightly, meeting the old man's grey eyes, a signal that one wants the path cleared. The old man tried wiggling one bulging eye at him, growling as though to bite, but Johnny puffed himself up further, as though not caring that he stood barely two thirds the height of the stooped giant.

As his challenger stepped to the side, Johnny stepped forward, toward his purpose, releasing a sigh of relief silently through his nose.

"Nicely done, mate," said Jamie, sidling up to him. "You musta seen some shit, eh?"

Johnny ignored him, and Jamie faded away when the next challenge came, this one a woman. Not permitted to touch him, she came very close to it. He frowned up at her as he came to a hasty stop without taking a step back. She was a few centimeters taller than him and a bit wider, too. She came at him with an intensity that was a little scary, but her obvious strength was intriguing, and she was beautiful in a blunt, blocky way. Gloria's conditions were easier on the female reproductive system, and tended to enhance feminine characteristics. She remained close as she bent to smell him, and he could feel her breath on his neck. Her large breasts even closer than her face, Johnny stood there, trying not to get hard. He raised his shoulders again, and his arms slightly, a display of mild impatience.

"I am Lanetta, of Clan Shield," she said, offering her hand. Johnny glanced at it disdainfully. On Gloria, a woman's hand could offer an unbreakable 'blood-bond' that would result in dungeon. Her smile thinned as she leaned close again but never touched him; he was careful to remain still. "I want you, human boy, do you want me?"

"I want to get on with my business here," Johnny said. "It's that way."

She smiled, leaning closer, her expression signified readiness, but she stopped when Johnny displayed his impatience again, raising his arms a little more than last time. "Suppose I just took you then?"

"I suppose you'd get arrested," Johnny raised his shoulders again. "If you want a chance with me, I'll be at the auction house, so I hope you have a lot of money." He gave her a moment, then a smile. "I really do hope that."

Lanetta of Clan Shield relented, meeting his gaze and his little smile, full of eager desire that could not be acted upon due to the bizarre sense of honor that bound their society. She stepped aside with a slight bow, which caused a murmur through the crowd and another challenge to rise immediately. This guy wasn't huge, only four or five centimeters taller than Johnny, but he was built out of boulders. Johnny thought for a moment he was going to die, but he forced himself not to flinch in the wind of the challenger's fist as it passed.

"I challenge you!" the Glorian announced for all to hear, raising his huge arms in a threatening gesture. "I will claim you for Clan Sword!"

"No," Johnny replied, loudly but as calmly as he could. The clans Shield and Sword were the top two, the boldest but most beholden to the rules. "I decline your challenge as being unworthy of my time." He stood unwavering against a barrage of insults such as coward, smirking as though finding it amusing. He waved his hand in a sign of dismissal and was surprised when the Clan Sword warrior caught his arm in a tight grip but tried not to show it.

"I could take you, weak human," said the big man, squeezing Johnny around his wrist as he hauled him up off his feet. "Or I could tear your arm off, and what could you do about it?"

"Nothing I guess," Johnny admitted, as dispassionate as he could be while dangling by his arm. Trying not to show any of the pain or fear he felt, he sneered at the warrior. "I'd just stand here bleeding, watching those guards over there lop your idiot head off your shoulders. Then I'll get a robot arm you'll never get to see, because you'll be fucking dead. Put me down, so I can go."

The man took his other arm, pulling him taut. Johnny's mind screamed with alarm, fear and pain crippling him momentarily, but fortunately, he couldn't really sag. He refused to look away; he had a purpose here, and only that could save him. He ground his teeth but wouldn't lower his eyes from those of the giant warrior.

"I'll tear you in half!" the Sword man screamed into his face, and Johnny refused to flinch even from that breath. He had been happy when his sense of smell had gradually returned a decade ago, but no more. "Accept my challenge or die!"

"Get out of my way," Johnny replied. "I have a purpose here, and you're annoying me to the point of anger." The man seemed reluctant, and Johnny could see that patience would gain him nothing. "You dumb motherfucker, how do you not realize I have more value to this planet in one nut-sack than you do in your whole stupid body? Get your worthless hands off me so I can get to my purpose!"

The Glorian dropped him, looking nearly wounded by the rebuffing, yielding to Johnny with a slight nod. As he stepped away, Johnny glanced around the suddenly silent square and continued toward the auction house. He felt like he was going to puke or pass out, but he forced himself to walk tall, to appear confident.

"That was fecking brilliant, mate," Jamie murmured, there leaning on Johnny's shoulder. "I admit it, you surprised me. Sara said you were just so sweet, but you're a right badass!"

"Back up a little?" Johnny said, shrugging the other man off. "I owe you for the primer, but I can barely support my own weight right this moment."

Jamie glanced at him with a smile. "'Pologies, Johnny. All my respect, brother." He offered a hand, very briefly before Johnny's disbelieving sneer put it away. "Had to try it, didn't I?"

"Sure," Johnny said with a wave of dismissal.

"You know, for a bastard faction brat who spent two years trapped in brutal manual labor slavery to the drug lord your mother sold you to for a fix, you must be a damned fast reader."

"Thanks."

Jamie grinned. "Fecking unflappable, this one!" he said. "You're going places, my man, just you remember it was Old Jamie who gave you the primer."

"Thanks, Old Jamie," Johnny said. He took encouragement in Jamie's words, clear indication the willowy stud couldn't tell Johnny was freaking the fuck out. The world stopped wobbling and waving as Johnny's pounding heart began to calm. He could breathe properly and began to believe he would be alright.

"This is your last chance, though," Jamie whispered. "You better declare it if you have ink, because we're all going to see in a minute anyway."

"You're going to see...?" Johnny refused to let panic creep in, but it was a struggle. He squared his shoulders as he moved toward his purpose. "I don't have anything to hide," he lied confidently.

Jamie nodded, smiling. "You got this, Johnny," he said, slapping him on the shoulder and then fading away into the crowd that flowed through the square. The auction seemed to be the destination for most, the crowd now had a unified hum to it, the excitement of what Johnny still barely believed he had done. Hundreds of eyes followed his entry and his deliberately relaxed progression to the registration desk.