Session Two
Hard Knocks Life

He awoke that morning first, to the smell of cologne and sex, then to the sight of the ceiling fan circling counter clockwise. He felt something heavy on his left arm so he shifted it; there was a small grunt as a woman rolled over further away from him and the sunlight streaming from the shutters.
Nij rubbed his eye with his knuckle, tempting to remember his nightly conquest. He glanced over, seeing the blonde mane and back of a female. He grinned, retracing with his evening; he fawned over her visible spine down to the perfect crack of her ass. So that's what he'd done last night. He took in one longer stare before sitting up erect and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. Even with the shutters down, the morning sun still poured in. he reached under his pillow for his pistol, and took it in the bathroom with him.

He showered and dressed swiftly and was out of the room before his mistress could awake. Downstairs at the receptionist's office, he asked that the lady not be disturbed or enlightened of his whereabouts. Out of the hotel he went, into the morning air of Conte Island.

The small community of Conte Island rested in a rocky and hilly valley, opened only by a seaport and brick road that connected to the Belt Highway. The knit community was made mostly of anglers and miners who left during the day and returned by nightfall. Most of the houses and businesses were set on neatly kept blocks with street signs and such meticulous things.

Nij knew his way around the community better than some who lived their. Beside the local pharmacy sat a blue taco stand—open to the public.

Nij sat there, ordered a poached egg and a shot of gin. The cashier brought it to him minutes later, as he stared, his eyes unfocused and dazed. He splashed hot sauce and sour cream on his egg, swallowed it whole, took the shot of gin to the head, and paid the man.

Now he was off, down the street, with his hands in his pockets, a slim cigarette in his mouth and his mind on nothing less but a good cold drink.

Nij Furious was his name. Selling narcotics was his game.

Nij was a tall long-limbed dude with short brown hair and one hell of an attitude. He was lean, broad shouldered, with heavy eyelids, high cheekbones and a chiseled nose. His most noticeable trait that earned him compliments from females was his mouth.

He had a wide mouth, like the Cherisher Cat with lips not too thin or dry. Whenever he grinned, people figured he was up to no good. His teeth were straight with a stain of yellow from his cig habit.

Today he wore a dark grey leisure suit, some black suspenders, and a yellow cotton shirt that went under it. In the nape of his back he kept his pistol which remained hidden under his suit jacket. He also wore a thin black tie but he'd lost his tie last night doing whatever he and Es had gotten into. But he had a spare in his craft. And that's where he was headed, to his hovercraft.

While in town, he'd left his red P90-X in the hands of his mechanic, Rogelio Contreras.
Roy's shop was two blocks away. It was an orange one story building with a beer ad painted on the wall facing the road. The five green garage doors were still down with closed signs on them.
Nij went into the alleyway between the mechanic shop and the adjoining building. The side-door was unlocked.

He entered without a care, closing the door behind him. A lamp, sitting on Roy's desk had been left on, illuminating the two broken down cars to the far right and his hovercraft sitting next to the left wall. He walked leisurely to it, reaching deep in his pockets for his keys. The hatch popped open and he climbed in to the one seater, and closed the hatch for some privacy.

Immediately, the computer inside turned on as the engine and lights warmed up. Nij leaned back, his legs propped up over the steering system, his focus split between the blank blue screen, and the empty pack of Capri slims. Finally, the main computer loaded as three messages appeared.

"Three voicemails. One video message."
Nij half-heartedly hit the play button, reaching for the empty pack in desperate hope there was one left.
"Voicemail Message One. Received at 10:17 P.M."
"Nij. Call me."
"Voicemail Message Two. Received at 11:48 P.M."
"Nij call Rokushou."

"Voicemail Message Three. Received at 2:05 A.M."
"Nij, please contact Rokushou at your earliest convenience."

Nij rolled his eyes, deleting all three before they could replay.

His screen then went black. Seconds later, the bosom of Trisha Hartwell appeared as she backed away from the camera.
"Nij honey it's me! Patricia calling in to give you some good news!"
Nij smiled at the video as the busty bombshell placed her hands on her hips, her cowboy hat tipping forward as she spoke.
"Now I know how much you love you some poker and well—I got me two THIRD ROW tickets to the 12th Annual Martian Poker Tournament! Ain't that exciting?"
"It's been hosted by Juanita's Beer Company and others of that sort! It's been held at the Fayfare Solar Spacestation! I got us backstage passes to meet the players and we can stay and leave during rounds if we like!"
Nij stopped focusing on the video as his eyes wandered back to the empty pack. Trisha's thick southern accent became annoying after awhile until finally the video ended and Nij pressed play for some music.
As Nij listened, he didn't notice Rogelio entering from the main doorway that connected his home to the shop. Rogelio had his shotgun in hand as he entered the shop slowly, watching the ship.
He ran up to the hovercraft and cocked the gun at the window, ready to pull the trigger.
"Get out of there you thieving punk! I swear I'll blow your fucking head off if you don't!"
Nij looked down through his tinted window to see Roy standing their, holding the damn weapon incorrectly as beads of nervous sweat collected around his fat chin. Nij rolled his eyes and reached for the microphone next to his steering wheel.
"It's me you idiot."

Roy lowered his weapon as Nij popped the hatch and jumped onto the wing of his craft. He squatted so he could be eye-level with Roy.
"Hey."
"You crazy nut!" Roy shouted, "Why didn't you just come through the front door? Why do you have to be so damn senseless?"
"Whoa… calm down amigo, it's all good." Nij said, searching his pockets for a cigarette, "Is she ready yet?"
"What if I had pulled the trigger? Hmm? And shot you? I wouldn't be paying for any damages!"
Nij gave Roy a smug look, "You know my hatch's bullet proof stupid. You're the one who put it on."

Roy frowned, "Well—I—"

"Is Lucinda cooking?" Nij asked jumping off the wing, headed for the door. Roy followed behind, placing his gun down as Nij entered the kitchen. Indeed, bacon and eggs had been left on the skillet to burn.
Roy ran to the stove and flipped them as the crispy, black upside crackled and popped with the sudden movement. Nij made a seat of the counter, waiting for Roy to finish cooking.
The Contreras kitchen was painted a rustic red with dark accented kitchenware and counters. They had a nook where the table sat and small TV/radio at the end for guests. The kitchen connected to the living room and beyond that Nij didn't know because he never went further into Roy's house.

He watched Roy as he flipped his food repeatedly in an unusual fashion. Roy was a short Hispanic man with spiky hair, square blue-tinted glasses, and a thin pencil beard that resembled a five year old who strived to stay inside the lines. He had been the only mechanic crazy enough to touch Nij's stolen P90X and turn it into something worth riding.

The craft was a first generation and the series was now on its 4th. But Roy was so good at what he did and with his connections (and stolen parts) he kept the P90X running like new with the latest technology. Not only could it hover and fly on Earth but it was also able to venture into outer space and operate. Nij had brought it in two days earlier while on his mission. His engine had been making noise and the paint on his left wing had been scratched.

Normally, Roy would just complain about Nij's lack of care at home for the craft. But today, he was oddly quiet.
"So, you were supposed to be here at 6." Roy finally said.
"Caught up with Esme after you left the bar last night. We… had some catching up to do."
Roy gave Nij an envious look as he flipped his bacon one last time before transferring it to his plate.
"You should've called and told me. I was worried sick."
"Are you my mom?"
Roy gave him a look, "No. but I was worried."
"What's got you so antsy?"

"Have you watched any TV this morning?"
"No."
"Listened to the radio."
"No."
"Seen a newspaper?"
Nij nodded his head no as Roy sauntered out of the kitchen into his living room. He disappeared around the corner then returned holding a newspaper. He handed it to Nij with shaky hands.

"MORETTI DRUG LORD BUSTED WITH 40 POUNDS OF COCAINE IN MASION! ISSP'S BIGGEST BUST IN 10 YEARS!"

Nij threw down the paper, unconcerned; Roy waited for a reaction.
"Are you putting any cheese on those eggs?"
"Nij don't you see this!" Roy shouted anxiously, "The Moretti Family! They've been busted by the ISSP!"
"Yes, I can read."
"It says the ISSP showed up at their Mansion on Ganymede unannounced! A horrifying surprise! There was a shootout! All of Moretti's capons and captains were arrested too! They were ratted out."
"Ratted out you say?"
"Yes!" Roy said, "They had to be!"
"Don't go assuming you know everything Roy." Nij said, messing with the sole of his shoe, "It could've just been luck."
"That all his men were there and the ISSP went right to the load?" Roy asked, "The whole drug world's going nuts! All the Families, and Clans and Syndicates have gone into lock-down! Over the last 9 hours, no one in crime is making a move! It's like… the world has stopped moving."
Nij watched as Roy's face grew purple as he continued to rattle on.
"They were ratted out! I know they were! And the rat—the rat had to be someone close to Fernando Moretti! That means they know a bit about everybody! No one's safe! They're looking for us all!"
Nij finally cracked and grabbed Roy by the shirt, "Look Roy! The ISSP can barely catch a purse-snatcher on Mars! I get it! It was a rat! Calm the hell down."
He released his shirt; Roy stepped back, his hands on the side of his head.
"Do you know what this means? This means I could be found out! No one's safe! I could be arrested today for all those stolen parts on your ship! They could be watching us right now!"
Nij gave up and decided to grab himself a drink while Roy continued to panic.
"I—I don't know what to do? Should I leave—should I give myself up? What about Lucinda?"
"First, I doubt this rat gives two shits about a mechanic in Conte Island who sells stolen parts. Secondly, the ISSP's probably to busy celebrating their big bust to even notice a gun fight in front of their station. And finally, I need my damn ship because I gotta make the drop tonight so are you through?"
Roy paused to look at Nij.
"Are you serious? Do you really think the Roselle's are gonna take any new drugs or contracts at a time like this?" Roy asked.
Nij hunched his shoulders, "Yeah, probably."
"Have you not heard anything I just said?"
"Yeah I did." Nij replied, "And I know this game pretty well."

"So you'll be smart and not attend this drop?"
Nij shoved his hands in his pockets as his infamous grin grew across his face.
"Sure I am. And they'll be there."
With that he took his keys and headed out into the garage.

Senex lived in a squashy orange house on a black crushed concrete road connecting to the Belt Highway. All around his humble adobe was his onion patch; his livelihood that placed food on the table and Woolongs in his pocket. Senex grew red onions and only red onions. He'd once tried growing white onions but it ended in failure. And because this was the only vegetable he grew, many of meals in the Popov-Svidzinksaia household were "Onion-Inspired" dishes. Onion Soup. Onion Bean Salad. Onion bread. Onion Broth. Onion Meatloaf. Pigs in a Blanket accompanied with onions. Onion Sausage. Onion Rings. Paprika Chicken with diced Onions. Onion Casserole. So on and so forth.

The land that surrounded the onion patch and Senex's house was dry, arid, flat orange desert. The horizon line was completely empty except for a mount of tall orange rocks in the far distance that looked like a speck from Senex's house. And the highway, which normally was empty except for the workers who left before daybreak and the occasional hovercraft or truck driver, paved with its ebony, crushed concrete was the omnipresence black line Senex always followed home and to town.

Today, he walked home, which meant he hadn't arrived until one. Claudia, his pear-shaped wife, watched him hobble down the road to their house.

Claudia was an older woman just like her husband with a round face a matted grey hair. From her kitchenette window she could see the road; and she could see her husband was in need of water. She turned to her right, reaching into the pantry for a cup. To her left sat a cooler that held all their refrigerated provisions; she reached deep inside for some ice, and then turned on her sink for the water.

The front door was less than ten feet from the kitchen. Senex entered, closing the door behind him. He hobbled into the living room and plopped on the couch. Claudia instantly brought over his cool drink, and helped her husband undress.

Yes, she was getting on in age too; a sight it was to see the old woman trying to undress her husband. His poncho seemed to have fused with his sweaty skin; his hat was squished and hot to the touch from the heat.

Claudia undressed him at a pace until he was down to his shorts and undershirt. He sipped the water gratefully as Claudia folded his clothes and took them to their room. She returned minutes later, and sat next to him, as he recovered from his walk.

The old TV in front of them was off, and Senex whispered for the radio to be turned on. Claudia leaned forward twisting the knob. The only radio station the ancient tube could get was the local satellite 56.9 that every resident of Conde, Pyro, and Sri Rashid could hear.
"…today's lottery numbers will be announced at 7 PM on local Telly News Channel. In updating news the Mine Number 46 suffered a slight accident with dynamite killing 14 people and injuring 62 others. How long suspension of digging in all mines connected to Number 46 is indefinite…a mother in Pyro's Vineyard gave birth to quadruplet's today…"
Senex smacked his cracked lips and sat his cup down as the news reel continued. Claudia sat next to him, waiting patiently for her husband to speak as commercials started to play.
"Did you see Dr. Zossimov again?"
"No…" Senex whispered coughing, "Cold towel."
Claudia stood up and made her way to the bathroom. She withdrew a wash towel from the cabinet and placed it in the sink. Damp, she took it to the cooler and put ice cubes in it. Returning to the couch, she found her husband sweating profusely. She handed him the cold towel as she went to the air conditioner hanging out of the window. She turned it down as Senex sighed.
"You could have had heat stroke." Claudia scolded, "Why didn't you ask for a ride here?"
"I walked because I had to think…" Senex said.

Claudia's eyes grew worried as her husband tilted his head back. She had noticed lately that he was slowing down.

The ubiquitous fear of growing old, of slowing down and letting death catch you was happening to him now. He hadn't tended the fields in days or fertilized in ages. He grew tired easier and had bouts of no energy whenever he'd grown too hot. Claudia had even found him last week passed out in the bathroom. He came right too when she sat him up which worried her more seeing that he was losing weight and eating less.

Something was wrong.

It had been over a week since he'd visited Dr. Zossimov and that specialist. He'd not murmured a word on what had been said. Claudia had prepared herself for bad news, if it were to come. But the silence was killing her. She took his hand in hers and squeezed as his shut, tired eyes opened slowly to look at her.
So… it was true.
"You can tell… can't you?" he asked weakly.
She shook her head yes, a tear escaping the corner of her eye.
"Claudia… don't cry for me…"
"Senex… why… what's wrong? What can they do?"
"They can do nothing for me." He said serenely, closing his eyes, "They said I will die before the summer's end."

Claudia squeezed his hand harder, adding her other hand as if it could help. She studied her husband's physical deteriorating state. It looked like he'd lost more weight since he'd left in the morning. The veins underneath his tight, tan flesh pulsated off beat with his heart. His eyeballs were pink; around the corners, yellow muck sat and filled out his hollow eyelids. His skin was dry, cracked, and bleeding in spots.

Her husband was dying before her very eyes, and Claudia didn't know what to do.
"What about the money?"
"You know that is for you to retire once I am gone." Senex said with a sterner tone.
"But we can go up into space—they can help you there. They have robotic parts."
"Let them repair a young man who has something to live for. I am old… I've lived enough for a lifetime."
"Senex, do not say that!" Claudia begged, "We have the money! We could sell the house! They—they can heal you."
"And what will we do then, afterwards?"
"We can sell the land! We have 100,000 Woolongs right now saved up—we can—"
"Claudia I am going to die and there's nothing we can do about it!" Senex shouted heatedly while Claudia crying turned inconsolable. He hated being harsh and curt with his wife. But she had to bite the bullet. He took his hand out of hers and threw it over her shoulders, leaning in as she cried on his, shielding her wet face. He kissed the top of her mop head, and hummed as she cried, hoping it would calm her down.
Eventually, it did. Her whimpers turned to faint sniffles as Senex held her, patting her hand and arms.
"I cannot be repaired my sweet. I am not a machine. I am flesh and blood. And I know my time is up."
"Senex… they could fix you."
"We have to worry about other things like selling this land and getting you relocated once I am gone. I don't want you living here. This place will kill you the same way it did me. You will live far away, comfortably without worry."
"Senex…"
"And as for Edward." Senex began. Claudia froze up and looked at her husband as he spoke. He stared forward at the TV as if he were speaking to it.
"She must marry off before I pass."
Claudia freed herself from her husband's embrace and stood up, going into the kitchen. She began to wash dishes, dishes that were already clean as Senex spoke up, trying to get her attention.
"CLAUDIA!"
"NO!" She shouted, throwing a plate into the suds, "No! I will not lose both of you! No! Not like this!"
"Claudia, you must listen!"
"Senex! No!"
"What will you do with Edward once I am gone, hmm? The money will not last both of you! And you will not get social security for another 3 years! You can only take care of yourself! Edward will become a burden!"
"How can you say that about our daughter?"
"I am not calling her a burden because I hate her! I love Edward!" Senex shouted getting to his feet, "And this is why she must leave before I die!"
He placed his hands on his hips and peeked down the hall. Her bedroom door was closed. In front of it rested the Welsh Corgi she'd brought with her almost three years ago. Senex mind replayed the moment they had found their daughter.

She was in the wilderness, dying from dehydration with the dog lying be her side, feigning. Senex had dragged her back, Claudia had nursed her, and within days, Edward was back to her eccentric self.

The Popov-Svidzinskaia's had become so smitten with the girl that they took her in as the child they could never conceive. Senex legally adopted her a year later and Edward was given the love she'd never received from a parent. She was treated as a child, expected to do nothing but be a child and live carefree.

And Senex knew this. Edward was special. She was different. And seeing the only father she knew die would surely change her for the worse. He was afraid she'd be lost again, confused and helpless. And he couldn't leave this Earth unless he knew she'd be protected.
He didn't have to say all of that; his wife knew it too. Edward world would surely be destroyed if she saw Senex fall apart. Claudia stopped her selfishness and turned to her husband to embrace him. Her tears started up again as he held her, his frail body exhausted.

"She must marry before I die. To a good man. A man who will provide for her."
"But will that be enough?"
Senex thought hard and long before answering.
"It will have to be. We can do no more for her."

In the outpost of Sri Rashid, in the alleyway between the Practioneers' office and the Good Store, sat the eccentric Radical Edward on top of some trashcans. Her present task for today was finding some internet.

The legendary hacker sat Indian style on the top of the cans, her Tomato in her lap, her back hunch over as her eyes concentrated on nothing but the screen. She allowed her left leg to dangle a bit as she rested. The screen was taking forever to load up.

Once it did, her fingers moved effortlessly across the keyboard as she attempted to locate a web access.
"Webs…"
*click*
"Webs…"
*click, click*

The screen turned black for a moment, then an icon welcoming the prodigy appeared smiling.
"Yesssss…." Edward said, reaching for her goggles in her Tomato suitcase next to her. She took them out and breathed her hot breathe on them to clean. A small crack ran through the left goggle as the worn, leather straps called for her to retie them. She took her time to do so, before pulling them over her head onto her eyes. They were tight around her sockets, but Edward did not mind the discomfort.

As long as she had ssw.

Her goggles enhanced her hacking as Edward went on a mission to find some unlucky bloke's credit card number. She found herself in the auctioning site, . and quickly went to the item she desired.

The red C-9 vintage Vespa scooter was still on the market.

For 400,000 woolongs. Edward licked her dry lips as she processed her next move.
"Time to find unlucky bloke, oh-la-la!" she whistled, her fingers skating across the keyboard and back. Minutes later, she was in the website's data files. She needed a rich sucker who wouldn't notice 400,000 woolongs missing from his checking account.
"Adzuki Yamada? No. Tenchi Kokawa… too poor… Henna Gato? Ew…" Edward said, "Henna-Person order ugly dress. Cancel that. *click*."
Edward continued her hacking until finally she stumbled upon a rich man.
"Ahhhhhh! Ichiro Maruyama!" Edward said, "Yes, yes, yes! Oh-la-la! Edward found her match!"
Edward hacked into the man's ichunk account and betted on the scooter.
"Now," Edward said, relaxing her legs, "Edward wait here for less than 64 hours, and make sure no other Person bet on scooter!"

She leaned back, feeling accomplished.
"Ha! No more blistering feet for Edward!" She thought, "Edward have scooter now! She can ride to Good Store for some soda pop!"
The cunning Edward chuckled before hearing a curt beep from her computer.

Some person by the name of RCroger had betted 450,000 woolongs on the scooter. Edward sat up, her smile turned upside down.
"Oh no you do not!" Edward shouted at the screen, hitting the button for 460,000.

RCroger: 465,000 woolongs

Maruyama_32: 466,000.50 woolongs

RCroger: 467,000 woolongs

Maruyama_32: 468,999 woolongs

RCroger: 500,000 woolongs

Edward's face turned red with anger as she tied in a ridiculous number.

Maruyama_32: 1,000,000 woolongs

Edward smiled as an icon appeared congratulating her on one of the highest bids of the day. She stroked her chin, feeling adequate, believing RCroger had backed off.

…

RCroger: 2,000,000 woolongs

"AHHHHHH!" Edward shouted, falling off the trashcan. She climbed back up, seeing she had 63 hours left to bet.
"Troll!" Edward shouted at the screen, "RCroger is a Troll! Edward will hack him!"

But before she could, her computer went blank. Edward froze staring at the screen in horror. She shook it slightly, than smacked it in hopes it would return. A blue screen popped up and a little icon danced across it alerting her that she'd lost her web connection.

"NOOOOOOOO!"

Out of the doorway of his office, ran Dr. Zossimov, hearing the ear-piercing scream from his office space. He found Edward face down in the ground, her computer lying next to her.

He ran to her, "Miss Popov-Svidzinksaia! Miss Popov-Svidzinksaia! Are you alright!"
Dr. Zossimov bent down on one knee, pulling the girl up by her arms. Edward's face was blank for a moment before a gloomy haze swept over. She removed her goggles, her head hanging down in defeat.

"Are you alright Miss Popov-Svidzinksaia? Have you suffered a heat stroke!"
"No…" Edward whispered indifferently.

"Have you fallen and hurt yourself?"
"No…"
"Then what happened?" he asked.

"Edward… Edward… THERE'S NO INTERNET!" she shouted, grabbing him by his shirt. She clamped on, pulling his face to hers. Dr. Zossimov blushed as her amber eyes flooded with tears.
"No… internets!"

She shoved her head into his chest, sobbing for some connection to the outside world. He held her awkwardly, trying to stay professional yet console the young girl at the same time. He stood her up as she leaned on him mumbling about her lost connection.

Dr. Zossimov, a young doctor with a degree in general medicine and taste for expensive showerheads, listened to the grievances of the young girl as hard as he could without being distracted by her outwards appearance.

Edward was no more than her lengthy, tanned legs and red fro of hair. She had developed a cute shape and had a slim figure from all the running around she did. Her face still held the innocence and gullibility of her childhood as long eyelashes caressed her oval eyes. Her red fro was unkempt and only changed shape depending where she slept and how.

As of now, her biker shorts had turned into booty shorts and the white, loose she shirt had showed up in three years ago was no more. She now wore a better fitting pink one with a built in sports bra. But it was cropped so her navel was always out. Dr. Zossimov observed it and her flat tummy, but he forced his eyes to return to her sobbing face.
"Miss Popov-Svidzinksaia, I'm not sure if you know but there was a terrible accident up north that's made our web connection limited at the time. I'm surprised you received any connection at all. No one has any connection within a hundred mile radius."
Edward looked at him, flabbergasted, "WHAT!"
She gripped him harder which made the doctor feel too comfortable. He caught himself and straightened his brown hair and glasses.
"Come on Miss Popov-Svidzinksaia, come in side. Here, I'll buy you a soda pop. It's too hot to be outside anyway. You know we're under a heat advisory right now." Dr. Zossimov said leading her to his office. Edward sniffled, as Dr. Zossimov continued, "You shouldn't be out of the house anyway between the hours of 1-7 anyway. Come on. I'll call your parents and have Ginger next door to take you home. Eh? How about that?"
"No… internets…" Edward shamelessly repeated.

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