Chapter Sixteen – Fun in the Washroom
byChapter Sixteen – Fun in the Washroom
“The article looked wonderful.
The Sewer Dragons are an interesting enough society from a purely anthropological viewpoint that the university would never pass up an opportunity to study them.
So, they send in a team of five graduate students, and (apparently) after conferring with the Sewer Dragons they met, three of them agreed–with the university’s approval–to go through the extensive procedures needed to join the group on a temporary basis.
I was really eager to read their publication and look through the initial findings, but the paper is just ‘fuck you’ written over and over. The graduates discovered that the university insurance wouldn’t cover their retransformation into people able to return to normal society.
Why can’t I get a refund on the paper I bought?”
–Excerpt from the Anthrough Journal Customer Support Forums, 2052
***
Gomorrah pulled our favourite new boy toy to a washroom. “Hey, hey, this is a bit fast for me,” he said as his back bumped into the door and shoved it open.
I followed them in, ears twitching to make sure we were alone. If there was anyone in one of the stalls, they were real quiet shitters. I pushed the door closed and pressed the heel of a boot against it.
The bathroom was a shit hole. Busted doors on the stalls, a cracked mirror against the wall. Of the three sinks, only one was free of yellow tape, and that one was currently leaking brownish sludge water into a basin already half-full of the stuff. Some of the non-penis art was nice though.
Gomorrah let go of flirty boy and wiped her hand against the side of her robes. “I’m happy you came up to me,” she said.
“Uh, yeah,” the idiot said.
“Yes. I have questions. I doubt you’ll be able to answer them. Atyacus, shut off his coms.”
“My coms? Oh, fuck, how’d you do that?” He reached up, rubbing the side of his head in the way a lot of people did when their augs were on the fritz. “Hey, I wasn’t going to record everything, and if I had, it’s not like I’d resell it.”
Gomorrah reeled back. “That’s disgusting,” she said.
“It is,” Franny agreed over the line.
“I don’t get it,” Raccoon added.
“That’s fine,” I said. “Franny can explain. Gomorrah, question away.”
“I’m not entirely sure where to start,” Gomorrah said. She tilted her head to both sides, stretching her neck. When she next spoke, her voice filled the bathroom. “Are you part of the Sewer Dragons?”
“Hey, babe, I’ll be anyone’s dragon if they ask nice enough,” he said, some of his confidence returning.
Gomorrah looked at him. A pair of flamethrowers slid out from her habit over her shoulders and pointed themselves at his face. “Do you work for the Sewer Dragons?” she asked again.
“Oh shit, what are those?” he asked, two mechanical fingers pointing at the flamethrowers.
“Flamethrowers,” Gomorrah said.
“I wouldn’t have expected to see Delilah threatening someone,” Franny said.
“What, and you carry that bat around as a walking stick?” I asked.
Our new friend squirmed a bit. “Like, that’s hot, but I’m not into whatever kink that is.”
Gomorrah grabbed him by the front of his jacket and pulled him closer. “You will stop messing around and answer my questions, or you’ll regret it by ten.”
“Ten what?” he asked.
“One,” Gomorrah said.
“What?”
“Two.” Her flamethrowers burped, and two licks of flame danced on their ends.
His eyes went wide. “Oh shit.”
“Three.”
“We’re all Sewer Dragons,” he said. “Everyone here.”
I shifted. “What’s that mean?” I asked.
“Explain,” Gomorrah said.
“Look, everyone who lives here, in the Oasis, is a dragon. All of us. I don’t know what you want, babe.”
“I want the location of the people the Sewer Dragons have been kidnapping,” Gomorrah said. “And I want to find out who is responsible so I can bring them to justice.”
“Oh, fuck, you’re a samurai.” The realization had the guy trembling. “We’re not going to fuck, are we?”
“… No, we aren’t,” Gomorrah said. “Just answer my questions.”
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