Free Koko Takes a Holiday by Kieran Shea Page A

coughed.
    “Which one?”
    “Don’t you want more than this?”
    “And what? Go to some fancy business school like you?”
    “Maybe. Or something else. You’ve got options.”
    “Options? Yeah, right. Face facts, D. I’m not as smart as you. Never have been, but I sure as hell wish I was. Like you said before, you’ve been really lucky and you’re older, cranking in that officer-class pay. I’ve always admired you, and maybe someday when I make a decent rank and don’t screw it up I’ll think of something else to do. But for now? Like it or not, this is the life I lead.”
    Delacompte picked up her drink. She took a reflective sip and then motioned to a feed monitor above the bar, squinting.
    “You know, if you cycled out of your current obligations you could always try your hand at some cage raging.”
    Koko looked fuzzily up at the feed screen. The monitor was showing some old highlight footage of TFFI tiger fights with the sound turned down low. Koko grimaced and then spluttered.
    “Oh, come off it. Don’t make me laugh…”
    “I’m not kidding around,” Delacompte persisted. “You can make some decent credits in those matches, and you’re a natural. Don’t forget, I’ve seen you in close-quarter situations. When those tiger fighters hit it big, some of them make good money.”
    Koko drank some more poison. “I’ll pass.”
    “Hey, if you want, I know somebody over at TFFI. Guy is a former syndicate merc, just like us. I could patch him and see if he can get you a slot in one of their training programs.”
    “Oh, yeah? What guy is this?”
    “Former demolition specialist I fucked back in Panjshir.”
    “Oh, in Panjshir. When the hell were you in Panjshir?”
    “Year back.”
    “So this guy? Any good?”
    “I think so.”
    “You think so?”
    Delacompte looks off with mock wistfulness. “Ah, there are so many. I get confused.”
    They both broke down laughing.
    “Yeah, well,” Koko said, getting control of herself, “thanks for the suggestion, but seriously. No way in hell am I doing some media slut’s version of staged combat just so some loser on credit-view can get off, thank you very much. Besides, that stuff, D? Full-on tiger fighting at the professional level? From what I hear I’d last a day in those fighting pits, tops. Even with their so-called training program, don’t you know those pros love taking out fresh meat like me? I hear they even handicap the matches to weed out the up-and-comers. Probably drop me in a four-on-one bout for my first go-around. Oh, yeah, some big payday that would be. Eye-gouge and body-bag central.”
    Delacompte shook her head and set down her drink.
    “You know,” Koko said, “now that you’re going all hotshot professional, you’re going to have to play nice on a whole other bunch of fronts.”
    “I know…”
    “All buttoned up and grounded. No social wilding. Definitely no more sportfucking whoever happens your way in Panjshir. I hate to bring it up, but have you selected your creed yet?”
    Delacompte flung back the rest of her drink and winced. “Working on it. Been studying the executive hiring trends, and the monistic approach might be the call. Non-exclusivity leveraging the most job opportunities.”
    Koko paused. “Wait. You don’t mean?”
    Delacompte nodded. “The New One Roman Church of the Most Holy Liberator.”
    “Wow. That’s, uh, that’s—”
    An announcement in rolling languages began to bleat overhead, and Delacompte realized her transport was boarding. They both stiffened a bit and said their goodbyes, finishing the rest of their “good running into you” banter with a couple of fist pounds.
    After lifting her pack, Delacompte shoved off and was almost to her gate when Koko shouted at her from the bar.
    “Hey!”
    Delacompte turned.
    “I bet I could run a place better than this!”
    Delacompte looked around, puzzled.
    “Not an airbase, D! A bar! I bet I could run a really great bar!”
    Delacompte gave Koko