Chapter 42: Progress Made (1/2)
Genome parties were always fun, but the aftermath sucked.
When he returned home to Jamie’s place, Ryan found it in ruins. The floor had been buried underneath beer bottles, pizza boxes, trash, and stuff best left forgotten. Someone had drenched the sofa in a suspicious fluid, and while DJ Brain had survived the apocalypse, a partygoer drew a smiley face on the vat’s surface. Even with repeated time-stop, it was a struggle to clean up the mess.
Ryan was still working on it by the evening.
“Faster, slave!” Ryan’s cruel taskmaster, Lanka, sat on a chair while he cleaned up the sofa with a mop. Ki-jung’s rats looked at the both of them, like viewers watching a comedy movie. “I want to see this sofa shine enough to sit my ass upon.”
“Do you want me to clean your royal butt too while I’m at it, Your Majesty?” Ryan deadpanned.
“No, thank you, I already did my part,” she replied. “You’re the one who skipped town all morning.”
“You’re just mad I was invited to the big guys’ table,” he mocked her back, before hearing his cellphone bleep in his pocket. He took a break from his dirty work to check a message from Jasmine.
JasLove: How do you want your armor?
Ryan started typing his answer.
PlushieTamer: Have you played Fallout?
JasLove: Fallout 1, Fallout 2, Tactics, or Van Buren?
PlushieTamer: You didn’t mention Brotherhood of Steel.
JasLove: That game never existed, and I’ll kill anyone who says otherwise.
PlushieTamer: Good answer. Fallout 2, America for the Enclave.
JasLove: Figured. You’re going to look great killing muties.
PlushieTamer: You and I, and my big plasma cannon...
JasLove: Keep it loaded. Might give it a good polish if you behave.
“You’re texting your girlfriend during work, Blabbermouth?” Lanka said while looking over his shoulder, grinning upon seeing the sender. “Wait, wait, wait, it’s Vulcan’s number!”
“Jealous?” Ryan asked before putting the cellphone in his pocket.
“I’m glad you didn’t commit suicide by going after Livia, but Vulcan? Mad respect. She’s totally going to shoot you one day, but your bravery shall be remembered.”
Technically, she already did shoot him. “Well, I had to work for both of us, since you couldn’t get a date.”
Lanka grinned, sipping a beer. “Where do you think these fluids came from?”
Ryan looked at the sofa, then at the mop, and finally at Lanka, whose grin grew wider. “You know what, I paid my debt to society,” he said, tossing the mop at his flatmate’s face. “Clean your mess yourself.”
“Hey, you lazy ass, get back here!” she complained, trying to get the sticky mop off her face.
Ryan ignored her, moving towards the stereo to unplug his brain in a jar. Ki-jung’s rats left for the kitchen and trailed a towel back to the sofa with their mouths, intending to clean it up themselves. Their mistress was still holed up in her room with her boyfriend, but she might emerge from their lair sometime soon.
Jamie hadn’t believed he had been promoted at first until Livia herself called him to confirm it. After a moment of silence, the swordsman had retired to his room with Ki-jung to ‘discuss’ it, but they had been alone for three hours by now. Ryan was pretty sure there wasn’t a lot of talking involved in this private celebration.
When Jamie and Ki-jung returned to the living room, the rats had cleaned the sofa enough for Lanka to slouch on it. The couple was so close they were almost touching, and Chitter had recovered from yesterday’s breakdown. In fact, she looked so happy that Ryan thought she might ascend to heaven on the spot.
“Something big happened,” the courier said, as he separated the loudspeakers from the brain in a jar. “I can tell.”
“What’s up?” Lanka asked with an eyebrow raised. “Besides changing your names to Mr. and Miss Mercury?”
Ki-jung exchanged a glance with her man, who nodded slowly. “Jamie finally proposed,” she told Lanka, giddy with joy.
Her friend blinked. “No way!”
“Congratulations!” Ryan said with a thumb up, while the rats clapped with their tiny hands. “You should tell everyone!”
“And you accepted?” Lanka asked Ki-jung a stupid question.
“Of course I said yes!” she chuckled. “I want you to be the bridesmaid, Lanka.”
“Me?” For the first time since Ryan met her, the ex-marauder looked speechless and flustered. “But I don’t know shit about weddings!”
“You will do well,” Ki-jung replied with a warm smile, though it wavered a little. “Felix would have been Jamie’s best man, but I don’t think he will come.”
“I will ask Mercury to be the best man,” Jamie declared. “I owe my whole life to him. If he hadn’t raised me up, I would still be some pisspoor orphan selling scraps. Now… I will do my best to honor his name.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna have to call you boss now,” Lanka said with a wide grin. “If anyone deserves that job, it’s you, Jamie.”
“I still can’t believe it’s happening,” Zanbato replied, torn between joy, pride, and anxiety. He looked so adorable when unsure of himself. “Me, a street rat, ascending to the rank of an Olympian? Becoming a Caporegime?”
“It’s impostor syndrome,” Ryan told the swordsman. “It’s like sanity, fake it until you make it.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Jamie replied, though he clearly had a long way to go. “Still, it’s so big… beyond all the responsibilities and sitting at the Olympians’ table, I will have all the division’s resources to call upon. Millions, billions in cash.”
“You still plan to invest in soccer games?” Lanka asked.
“We haven’t had a national cup since the Genome Wars,” Jamie replied, his voice brimming with passion. “Dynamis keeps a tight grip on sports with their Dynacup, but the slums have so many talented people. Nobody will give them a chance but us. I’m sure one of them can be the new Maradona.”
“You should give to charity, develop detox centers, hospitals…” Ki-jung looked at Ryan. “Even rebuild that orphanage the Meta-Gang trashed.”
“You should start with all of Rust Town.” Ryan shrugged. “That place is the most miserable I’ve seen, and that includes radioactive wastelands.”
Much to his surprise, Jamie actually seemed to take his suggestion to heart. “That’s not a bad idea,” he admitted, looking at Ki-jung. “What do you think?”
“You should know,” she replied, before glancing at Ryan. “You have seen the Olympians. Do you think they would mind?”
Ryan gave the question some thought.
At the end of the day, Lightning Butt didn’t seem to care about money. He only craved power and respect. As long as Jamie followed orders and didn’t interfere with the other divisions, Augustus probably wouldn’t give a damn if he used funds to create orphanages or charities. Neptune and Livia seemed more interested in developing the family’s empire, and they would probably approve the initiative if only to develop goodwill. As for Mars and Venus, he didn’t get much of a read on them.
Bacchus however...
“I think they would be open to the idea,” Ryan admitted, with a caveat. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with the Bliss business.”
That was the real problem. The couple’s mood instantly worsened, and they exchanged a silent glance. Ki-jung didn’t give up though. “If you could talk to Livia about it…”
“Moi?” Ryan replied, a little surprised.
“She seems to hold you in high esteem, from what I’ve heard,” Jamie said. News traveled fast. “But be careful around her. She’s the apple of her father’s eye, and he doesn’t take disrespect lightly.”
“Don’t worry, Vulcan got to him first,” Lanka said, laughing when Ryan glared at her.
“You ratted me out!” He glanced at the mice in the room. “Sorry. Some of my best friends are tiny rodents.”
“I had a feeling something would happen between you two,” Ki-jung smiled warmly. “The tension was palpable.”
“I’m so glad you found someone,” Jamie declared, warmly putting a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “I don’t know if it will last, but I hope she can make you happy.”
“Well, I will retire before you give me diabetes,” the courier replied, carrying his brain in a jar to the garage. When he left the main room, the trio were discussing the wedding’s date and logistics.
Thankfully, the garage had been locked up during the party, and Ryan’s car was spared from the guests’ attention. If Lanka had used his backseat for her vile, sticky deed, the time-traveler might have gone on a suicide run out of rage.
Thirty minutes later, the courier had plugged back the brain in its place. He opened the door and sat at the driver’s seat, putting on the Chronoradio.