The TekWar Series Books 7–9: Tek Money, Tek Kill, and Tek Net by William Shatner

Author:William Shatner
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504057189
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2018-10-27T00:00:00+00:00

21

THE naked young woman seated herself before the dressing-room mirror. After considering the five wigs scattered on the small plastiglass table, she selected a bright red one and began fitting it over her close-cropped blond hair. “Darn sakes, Marney,” she said, addressing her image, “what’s somebody with your batch of talents doin’ in a dump like this—in the Texas Territory, for cryin’ out loud? Once upon a time out west you were a—hey!”

The neowood door had come flapping open. “Do I have the pleasure of addressing Pistol Packin’ Marney?” inquired the large, wide black man who pushed in, smiling.

“Heck almighty!” Marney jumped up, grabbing the kimono off the back of her chair and starting to slip into it. “Haven’t you ever heard of somethin’ called privacy?”

“Every hour on the hour you go out there and, after singing, dancing, and giving an exhibition of trick shooting, you do a strip,” the intruder reminded her. His right arm was made of silvery metal and he began massaging it now, as though it were giving him pain. “So being observed in a state of undress ought not to faze you.”

“Darn sakes, that’s show business out in the club, an’ this here is my private dressin’ room, an’ what in the holy heck is the idea of your bargin’ in like a—”

“I’m your new agent, Marney,” he explained, shutting the door behind him and approaching her.

“I already got one rude an’ crude agent, which is more than plenty.”

“Oh, but you need me, Marney.” He held out his metallic right hand.

Very reluctantly, she shook it. “I would like it very much if you’d just up an’ get the—yow!” An electric shock had gone jumping from his hand to hers. She pulled free of his silvery grip, turned her back on him, and sat again in the chair. “What in the almighty heck was that for?”

“A sample of what you might experience,” he answered. “Keep in mind, Marney, that what you got was the lowest setting.”

“What the darn heck do you want?”

“My name is Sam Cimarron,” he said. “When I’m not acting as a talent agent, I serve in assorted capacities for Sleeper Farris.”

“Oh, heck,” she said. “I only owe Sleeper somethin’ tiny. The amount still due on my loan isn’t more than—”

“$15,900.”

“It can’t, nope, be anythin’ like that.”

“Well, you haven’t been keeping up your weekly payments for a while now, Marney. Interest is compounded daily, remember.”

Marney tangled her fingers in the red hair of the wig. “All righty, I suppose I can make a token payment right today,” she said tentatively. “You gotta be aware that the salary they’re payin’ me in this hole isn’t anywhere near lavish.”

Cimarron smiled more broadly and snapped his metal fingers. “Sleeper is willing, if certain conditions are met, to cancel the entire debt.”

“I’m not going to bed with any more of his ugly friends.”

Leaning toward her, resting his silver hand on her slim shoulder, Cimarron told her, “I’ve got you booked up in Sweet-water, Marney. At $2,500 a week. You’ll be playing the lounge at the Sweetwater Casino.

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