Jeopardy in Tights by K. Childs

Author:K. Childs [Childs, K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: NineStar Press, LGBTQIA+, sci-fi, alternate universe, super heroes, super powers, bodyguard, businessman, interracial, second chances
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2020-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Issue 15: Of Mice and Man

Nathan swiped his credit card over the machine. A green light beeped and the receipt began to print.

“Now, the timing has to be precise,” he reminded the pilot.

“Don’t worry, Mister Parkes. That’s my specialty,” the pilot assured him. The man wore a greased blue jumpsuit with the skywriting logo on one breast. High Writers.

Nathan nodded and returned to the taxi and his waiting bodyguard. Errol adopted a sober expression, but his lips kept forming and smoothing over thoughts and words in tiny micro expressions.

Nathan slid into the taxi. “All right, now we visit Supplier.”

Supplier was nestled just outside the Nebula shopping district, a place of giant television billboards and glowing building signage where everything from electronics to fashion spilled out of three overgrown malls and into the streets. Markets ran down two lanes with imported goods from overseas and supermarkets and restaurants tucked between hair salons and handbag retailers. The trendy folk who worked in the city center came to Nebula for shopping, Friday nights on the town, and Starlake’s high-society galas held in the Nebula Theatre Center.

If the heart of the city was businesses, skyscrapers, and traders, Nebula was her face. A glamorous face where you could buy anything, see anything, enjoy anything. As long as you had enough money.

The taxi drove them from the small office on one block, through the thick of midday traffic, to the outer rim of the hubbub. Here, businesses were less glamorous and erred on the side of practicality.

Supplier was one such store. Touting itself as a firearms dealer, it sold mostly to private security and mercenaries; Miltech grunts came looking to augment their private supply of legal ordnance. Supplier didn’t just provide firearms. They also provided body armor, ex-military riot shields—things you couldn’t buy in Walmart.

Nathan didn’t know what half of the stuff in the building was, but he was pretty sure most of it wasn’t legal. The world could be a scary place, and body armor might save you from an alien brain slug. Attempts to moderate weapons in the States helped, as full automatics and semis required a license.

“Welcome back, Mr. Parkes.” The man behind the counter greeted them as Nate and Errol entered. It was a little unnerving that the man recognized him. This was only Nate’s second time coming to the shop.

The inside was a gun-toting lunatic’s wet dream. Guns of all variety and flavor lined the walls. A “display purposes only” old aircraft minigun hung from the ceiling with a plaque telling guests it had been taken from a Nazi biplane after WW2. Nate could not think of a legitimate need for an aircraft weapon in the hands of a private individual. But these days, there was no judgment.

The guy behind the counter had a name tag reading Larry printed on his shirt. He looked over sixty with a gray mustache and military cropped hair. He wore old army combat fatigues over a portly belly.

“Thanks,” Nate said. “I wanted to look at getting some more nonlethal bullets and also some body armor, Larry.

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