When You Want Another Man's Girl

There were only three pieces left to the storm-pizza, fourteen mouths to feed, and at least a hundred empty beer bottles when the guard raided the celebration. Davin, the son of the Captain, hosted the event, which made at least me laugh; his father's boys arresting his own boy. He tried to explain to them, but they're just kids with machine guns and a limited understanding of English. Someone in the compound called about a party; they were here to break it up.

My dad is The Captain! Last we heard of him, Idiots, my father-- yelling as they body-strapped him, stuffed him into an aircar and rose. I erased the calling history off my wrist-correspondent and innocently asked two of the guard in their language--once again thankful for my sordid roots--He wanted a nice party, just a small one. I said this as if he was an innocent teenager, wanting to slightly fight the rule: no social gatherings over the amount of three without guard present. It was his body-birthday, but I don't know his name, I mused aloud, lying, lying, lying--I'm so good at it. After all I was just someone walking by this column, not enjoying the entertainment.

However, seeing his girlfriend, alone by the fountain, beautiful and nervously adjusting her bio-monitor, I had to save her from arrest. When you act calm and as if you know what you are doing and you speak the language, the guard always leaves you alone. Especially now that they know me. Now that I've done them a favor or two.

With a reassuring smile, I held her elbow, linked our monitors and walked out the back, introducing myself gently as if I hadn't been watching her from a distance for centuries.