Chaos Quarter Read Online Free

However, Governor Odemegwu insists that he meet with all who bring weapons or military goods. It is difficult to find such things sometimes, and he wishes to maintain good relations with traders who can get such cargos past the criminals of our outer territories,” Emeka explained, meaning the various pirates roaming the Igbo system.
    “Sounds good,” Rex remarked. “Do we do the business part now?”
    “Of course,” Emeka said with a smile. “May my men inspect?”
    Rex motioned them ahead with a sweep of his arm. The muscle moved into his cargo bay, opening the various crates. It was standard procedure out here. Nobody brought money out until they were sure the cargo was genuine. The excited shouts of the muscle as they examined the sniper rifles told Rex all he needed to know. He had no idea what language they were speaking, but excitement was excitement no matter where you went.
    Emeka sensed this too.
    “My men are saying that the king himself does not have such weapons,” Emeka spoke.
    “I’m sure your governor will get one into his hands,” Rex replied.
    Emeka nodded and shouted to one of his men. One of the men bounded out of the cargo bay and ran to a small terminal across the tarmac. He emerged a moment later with a large briefcase. He trotted back and handed it to Emeka. Emeka hoisted it with some effort, opening the case and holding it up. Two dozen gold bars waited inside. The muscle removed something from the side of the case and handed it to Rex. It was a small bottle of nitric acid with a dropper at one end. Knowing the routine, Rex squeezed a dozen drops onto the gold. Nothing happened. No bubbling, no hissing, no reaction of any kind.
    “Good enough for me,” he replied, handing back the bottle. Emeka closed the case and handed it to Rex.
    “One of my men will be back at eight this evening to escort you to the governor’s residence,” Emeka said with a crisp nod.
    “I’ll be here,” Rex replied. The man and his muscle moved away. Two dozen men emerged from the terminal, dock-men. Chattering away in their native tongue, they approached his ship. He walked from the cargo bay as they went to work, wondering what exactly one wore to meetings with the governor.
    * * *
    “Ever been with a tigress?” a lightly accented voice asked. There was a practiced sultriness to it, but the oddness of the question alone caused him to pause. What exactly passed for fun on this planet?
    Rex had intended to go into Biafara for an hour or so, or whatever part of Biafara he could see on foot before Emeka’s man showed up. He hadn’t gotten one step off the spaceport when the question had been posed.
    Worries of bestiality faded when he looked at the woman asking. She did look quite like a tiger. Her skin was a dark orange-red color, interrupted by black vertical stripes a foot or so long. Raven-black hair washed to a silky sheen cascaded to her shoulders. Her yellow eyes, complete with cat-like slit pupils, invited him with calculated warmth. She had high cheek-bones and full lips, framing teeth that were close to being perfectly straight. That alone was a rarity this far out.
     
    “No,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Slept with a blue woman on Halcyon.”
    The woman moved closer. Rex’s surprise at her appearance was soon replaced by lust. All the orange skin and stripes formed a body that demanded attention. Toned thighs and magnificent hips were sheathed in a skirt that stopped just a few inches below heaven. Her stomach was taut; the girl did her sit-ups, but not enough to erase the femininity. Her breasts pressed against a camisole that stopped a hand’s-breadth above her navel. They were not overly large, but respectable enough for any straight-shooting male to notice. He allowed himself to notice as she continued her pitch.
    “Blue is cold. Red is so very, very …hot,” she said, drawing out the last words as she ran her fingers up his arm.
    “You don’t have to put on the act, I’m