Spit 'Em Out: Bubbles in Space, #4

By S.C. Jensen

She let him get away. Now she has to put him down.

Bubbles Marlowe thought she could handle anything HoloCity threw at her. But when a rogue scientist goes missing, the cyborg detective has no choice but follow him out of the world she knows, to a distant city even darker than her own.

Nathanial Price left a trail of bodies in his wake when he fled, and Bubbles blames herself for every one of them. With the blood of his victims on her hands, she'll do anything to track him down and bring him to justice.

But one of her allies has a secret that could betray them all, and this black-hearted city has mysteries of its own. As Bubbles begins to unravel the lies, she makes an ugly discovery that binds her to this brutal new world.

This time she might not be able to escape…


Blade Runner meets The Fifth Element in this eccentric cyber-noir thriller series about a bleak world ravaged by corrupt leaders, mega-corporations, and crime lords… and the washed-up detective who might be the only one crazy enough to take them on.

Bubbles Marlowe IS BACK in an exciting new installment of the cyber-noir technothriller series, Bubbles in Space. Delve into the secrets of this gritty future world, and buckle up for an adventure full of unusual characters, dark humour, and non-stop action.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.C. Jensen
• Release date: Oct 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9798215718506

Book preview

Introduction

Thank you for picking up a copy of Bubbles in Space #4: Spit ’Em Out!

Things are starting to heat up for Bubbles Marlowe and her crew now that we are approaching the end of this five-book story arc! Book #3 was a whirlwind of action, and now our heroes need to gather themselves for the next big step.

But tensions are simmering just below the surface and betrayal and treachery lurk around every corner…

Spit ’Em Out begins to explore a bit of Bubbles’ past and some of the events that have made her who she is. What is her connection to the series of events that has brought her here? Is it just bad luck, or something more? Her past might be coming back to haunt her in a different way this time.

As you probably remember, this series began as my personal homage to the American pulp noir writers of the early 20th century, with a neo-cyberpunk twist. Stylistically, the series has eased up on the direct noir references, but you’ll still find hints of its influence scattered throughout the story. You’ll find examples of some of the slang I’ve used in the Glossary at the back of the book.

Bubbles in Space has become a lot more to me as a writer, as it represents a major milestone for me. Bubbles Marlowe is my first ever sober character, and she embodies my own struggles with alcohol abuse and recovery from addiction. This book is less about Bubbles’ history with alcohol and more about the things that happen that can drive us to addiction. In particular, how taking life’s twists and turns too personally can foster a toxic mindset. It might not be obvious as you read it, but these are the things I was thinking about as I wrote. If this is a subject close to your heart, I’d love to hear how you think I’ve done!

If you’d like to read more about Bubbles’ adventures, join my VIP Readers Group to get a free copy of my novella , which tells the story of her very first case as a HoloCity P.I.

Enjoy!

P.S. This novel has been written in Canadian English. This means it includes an infuriating blend of American vocabulary with British grammar and spellings.

So, sorry about that, eh? We’re a little weird up here.

Chapter One

A deep ache spread across my forehead where I pressed it against the frozen window of the space shuttle. My breath fogged my view of the planet spiralling below us. Sol flared behind the shadowed sphere in a corona of blazing light that pierced straight into my heart.

HoloCity’s own light, dense and dazzling in the centre of the metropolis, mirrored the radiance of the sun in an iridescent splash of colour. It thinned and spread across the darkened continent like a glittering wave. A beautiful thing, but deadly, the way some poisonous animals had evolved to ward off predators with their electric-coloured skins.

Tears burned behind my eyes as I watched Terra Firma shrink, slowly, into the void of space. I hated HoloCity and the corruption that rotted beneath the glittering surface. It had been trying to kill me from the moment I’d been born, slowly taking the people I loved, breaking down my defences, and waiting for me to succumb to its beautiful lies.

And yet, it had been my home, the crucible in which I had been shaped and hardened. I had survived there, even after my father had died and my mother had left me, after I’d lost my arm and my career and my self-respect. I’d let it draw me to the very brink of existence where I’d wandered the hazy limbo of addiction for years, balanced on a razor’s edge between life and death.

And I’d fought my way back again.

I hated HoloCity. But I hated to abandon it too.

The stench of the smouldering wounds we’d left behind still coated the back of my throat like bile. I swallowed and rubbed my eyes with the back of my flesh hand—the only hand I had anymore. I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, staring at my distorted reflection in the glass.

A shadow appeared over my shoulder, huge and misshapen. The bruised, swollen face barely looked human. My chest constricted but I managed to smile.

Still doesn’t feel real, does it? Detective Tom Weiland said, his voice tumbling from his chest like crushed gravel. His warm fingers wrapped around my bare shoulders and squeezed.

No, I said. The scarred skin on the stump of my left arm buzzed and tingled at the sensation, still not used to being touched. It’s like a nightmare I can’t wake up from.

We’re together now. He pulled me against his chest and I felt the words vibrate in my bones. Everyone’s safe.

My throat ached and I blinked my eyes rapidly to clear them.

Libra’s towers, once the pinnacle of scientific research and development in the HoloCity Trade Zone, were now nothing but a smoking mountain of rubble. The hockmarket, a gathering place for the city’s poorest citizens to buy, sell, and barter their scavenged treasures, was a scorched crater at the centre of the Grit District.

And beneath the wounds on the surface of the city, there would be bodies. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people dead, all because of one man’s contempt for human life.

Not everyone, I said.

Tom kissed the top of my head. Hot breath stirred the hairs beneath his lips and my scalp prickled. The smell of blood and antiseptic formed a thin bubble around us.

He said, Everyone I care about.

It’s not enough. My voice cracked.

Nathanial Price had escaped the city and I had failed to stop him.

The ache tightened in my throat until I couldn’t breathe. I gritted my teeth against a fresh wave of grief, tendons straining against my neck. I turned and pressed my face into Tom’s chest as the sobs broke over my shoulders and shook me all over again.

It will have to be. Tom, the only solid thing in my life, held me there and rubbed my back. He said, It was the best we could do. None of what happened was your fault.

Tom meant well, but the words hit me like a blow from a glass bottle in a back-alley brawl. I shook my head. We’d been set up. We’d walked right into Price’s trap. He was obviously a sick and twisted man, and I couldn’t take responsibility for the things he’d done.

Still, Price couldn’t have done them without me.

She is predictable in her own unusual way, he’d said. I would never forget the way he’d looked at me in the end, with equal parts fascination and disappointment, as if I had unexpectedly let him down.

There had been something else in Price’s expression that I hadn’t noticed then. Now, in memory, I saw it clearly.

Recognition.

A chill crept over my skin when I remembered Price’s narrowed eyes. Ready the extraction kit, he’d said. I’m bringing this one with me.

Why me?

I filled my lungs with a shuddering breath and broke from Tom’s embrace. He stepped aside and pressed a button next to the viewport. The window dimmed and darkened until only my reflection remained in the glass. I started to protest, but with Terra Firma hidden from view, the pressure squeezing my chest seemed to lessen. The objection died on my lips.

I turned away from the window and leaned into Tom. I tried to relax. Tried to melt like a pad of butter-flavoured faux-fat product on whole grain toast. That was how it was supposed to work. I was supposed to just enjoy being with the person I loved and let my problems ooze away into a wholesome and nourishing symbiosis of healthy shared emotion.

So why wasn’t it working?

When I was little, my mom always said I was a born fighter, I said. I don’t feel like fighting anymore.

Your mother? Tom stiffened under my touch, and I felt his heart beating against his chest. You’ve never talked about her before.

A sudden boisterous clapping sound from the doorway made me jump. I pulled away from Tom like a guilty teenager. And the unexpected moment of intimacy did feel like something I should be ashamed of. My cheeks burned.

Cosmo Régale backed into the room with his hands open above his head, ready to unleash another warning. The back of his head bobbed as he shouted, Clothes on, people!

All clear, I said, laughing sheepishly.

Cosmo spun on the heels of his thick-soled, silver moonboots. The fashion magnate looked every inch a B-reel sci-fi-space-shuttle captain. Reflective metallic fabric covered his arms and legs, and it crinkled as he walked. Silver paint arched above his wide, obsidian eyes and stretched to thin points toward his temples. His tight, black curls were shorn into a spiral pattern and sparkled beneath the white overhead lights. He grinned at me with a flash of white teeth between glittering onyx lips.

Well, he said. That’s a relief.

Tom glowered at Cosmo from beneath the stitches in his left eyebrow. It’s been less than thirty minutes since the last time you barged in on us. Do you have some kind of timer set?

Call it intuition. Cosmo put his hands on his hips and winked viciously at Tom. Then he pursed his lips at me and said, Just once, Pinky. Give me thirty minutes and see what I can do.

Tom pretended to be annoyed—and maybe he was, a little. Cosmo’s flirtations had become so routine they were meaningless to me. Still, he never failed to make me laugh, and it was a welcome distraction from the dark thoughts that churned constantly inside my head.

I shook my head and laughed again, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Now is not the time, Cosmo.

What do you want? Tom said with a growl.

Cosmo stared at Tom in mock outrage. Is that any way to address the captain of the vessel that saved your hairy, ungroomed behind from certain demise?

No one could deny that Cosmo had saved the day when he had used his considerable resources to arrange a private bangtail to aid our escape from HoloCity. Tom grunted.

All right, he said. Have it your way, Captain. I’m going to my bunk.

The silver suit made slithering noises as Cosmo sauntered over to Tom and wrapped a long, wiry arm delicately around the big man’s shoulders. Now why would you want to go and do a thing like that?

Only place a man can get any privacy on this rattletrap, he said, and shrugged out from under the other man’s embrace.

"I know I did not just hear the word rattletrap, Cosmo whispered over his shoulder at me. My ship?"

I covered my mouth with my hand to hide a smile.

You seem to want some time with the lady, Tom said. Be my guest.

Silly man. Cosmo slipped in front of Tom and blocked the oval doorway with his arms spread wide and his long, black fingers splayed against the pearly white frame. It’s not your permission I need. It’s hers.

He batted his eyelashes at me over Tom’s shoulder. Tom kept walking until he was eye to eye with Cosmo, and the two men leaned toward each other as if daring one another to blink.

Tom said, I’ll get out of your way, then.

Cosmo licked his lips. He thrust his hips suddenly and Tom stumbled backward, cursing. What the—?

You aren’t going anywhere, you big, beautiful lump. Cosmo grinned. You’re both wanted in the conference room. Everyone’s waiting.

What’s this about? Suspicion crept around the edges of Tom’s words.

It’s a party. Cosmo ran his hands up and down the silver space suit. Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll.

Tom stared at him.

Cosmo rolled his glittered eyes. Don’t be so dull. There’s been a development.

What kind of development? Tom said.

Honestly, Pinky. Cosmo pursed his lips. It’s becoming increasingly difficult for me to not hold your life choices against you.

You’ll have to get in line, I said, and a tightness thrummed in the back of my throat. I was here first.

I slipped past Tom and ducked under Cosmo’s arm. A whiff of sweat and hard candy clung to me as I passed.

Of course. He reached through the doorway, grabbed Tom by the arm, and pushed him after me. Ladies first. That’s my motto.

Lay off Tom and me, okay? I said. He’s about the only thing I’ve done in the last month that wasn’t a mistake.

Cosmo made a feral purr in the back of his throat and squeezed past us into the narrow, white hallway. He fanned himself with glitter-tipped fingers and curled his lips lasciviously at Tom. If you say so, sister.

What kind of development? Tom asked again.

Cosmo’s moonboots squeaked as he pranced to the end of the hallway. A holographic keypad was projected in pale-pink letters and numbers against a seemingly blank wall. He tsked as his fingers flew across the keys. "All work and no play does make Tom a dull boy."

Come on, Cosmo. The nerves in my stump flared and the muscles twitched. My shoulders tightened in frustration. Enough is enough. Tell us, already.

An invisible door made a shushing noise as it slid into a hidden pocket in the wall. Cosmo pouted at me. And spoil the surprise?

Why not? Tom grumbled under his breath behind my ear. He’s spoiled everything else.

Cosmo hissed at Tom through his perfectly white teeth. Ingrate.

My right hand flashed up between the two men and before either of them could react, I flicked them each between the eyes.

Ow! Cosmo’s eyes watered.

Tom rubbed furiously at the red welt between his already swollen eyebrows. What was that for?

Play nice, or play alone. My missing left arm ached with the desire to participate in the beating. Does that rate with you?

They glared at each other and then at the floor. Silence hung between us like the stink from a HoloCity sewer grating.

You numbskulls are lucky I don’t have my other arm, I said. I’d like to smash your heads together.

Tom cleared his throat.

Cosmo rushed to speak first. I would endure anything for you, he said, smiling coyly as he backed up a step. Even him.

Not to be outdone, Tom crossed his arms and grunted. Agreed.

Well that’s just silky, I said. Thank you for the sudden growth and maturity. Now what’s this about?

Cosmo’s grin widened and he bounced on the toes of his oversized boots. He said, We know where he is.

The blood rushed from my head, and I felt like I was floating above my body.

Where who is? I said. I felt the words pass my lips, but I couldn’t hear them over the ringing in my ears.

Tom reached out to steady me, but I pulled away.

Cosmo’s sparkly black lips moved but his voice came to me as if from the end of a long tunnel.

He said, We’ve got a lead on Nathanial Price.

Chapter Two

I stumbled through the corridors after Cosmo with my head spinning. Price had held Tom captive and tortured him for weeks. He’d tried to manipulate me into delivering my best friend, Rae Adesina, and an android named Patti Whyte, into his hands. In the end, he hadn’t gotten Tom or Rae or Patti.

But he and his insane assistant had levelled Libra’s R&D facilities and blown up the biggest night market in the Grit. The blood of countless HoloCity citizens was on his hands, and I had let him get away.

Are you okay? Tom wheezed through his flattened nose.

Images of the video Price had sent me flashed through my mind. Tom broken and bleeding on the concrete floor of an organ-harvesting warehouse in the Creep Stacks. Tom’s ragged, dying breaths. The ear Price had cut off and thrown at my feet.

I saw Rae’s ragged fingers and wild gaze as the computer program in her brain took control and forced her to attack LunAstro’s security guards.

I saw Patti’s head torn from her android body, the synthetic spinal cord pulsing and twitching where she dangled helplessly from Price’s fingers.

The back of my throat burned and tears stung my eyes. It was over now. Tom was safe. A little worse for wear, but he was okay. I slowed my pace and let him catch his breath beside me.

I said, I will be.

And for the first time since I’d woken up on this bangtail, I actually believed it.

Wherever Price had gone, it hadn’t been far enough.

We’d found him.

And he was going to pay for what he’d done to HoloCity. To my friends. To all the people he’d hurt by pursuing his mad dreams.

Whatever they were.

You look pale, Tom said. He placed a hand on the small of my back and my skin came alive at his touch.

Tom was okay. I gritted my teeth and swallowed the memory of the fear I’d been living with for the last two weeks. My feet seemed to be trying to keep pace with my hammering heart.

I’m going to kill him, I said.

The words resonated like they were coming from some hollow place inside my chest.

Tom said, Slow down.

Slow down? I nearly lost every last person I cared about in the entire world to Price. I’d had to beat my best friend unconscious when the virus in her brain forced her to try to kill me. I had to watch live-feed footage of Tom being tortured. I’d seen Dickie twitching on the floor of Price’s lab and had a bomb detonator strapped to my body.

I’d passed out and set the bomb off, killing innocent people.

What right did Tom have to tell me to slow down? A cold, clammy wave broke over my skin and the muscles in my chest vibrated with rage. I whirled on him, snarling.

Don’t tell me what to do.

Tom stepped back and put his hands up. His fingers were splinted together where they’d been broken. Both eyes were ringed with bruises. Blood seeped through the bandage over the hole in his head and trickled down his cheek.

I can’t keep up, he said. It hurts to run.

My vision blurred around the edges, and I put my arm against the wall to steady myself. I shook my head.

I’m sorry, I said, and the anger seeped out of me like mystery sludge down a storm drain. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Tom reached out and pulled me into his arms. He flinched when I fell against his broken ribs, but he held me tightly. He said, I want to get him as much as you do.

I know you do.

We’ve got to take this slow. His chest rumbled against my cheek. We have to be smart about it.

I know.

He cleared his throat. You said you didn’t want to fight anymore . . . There was hopefulness at the edge of his voice that tickled about as much as a bleeding hangnail. Maybe you could sit this one out.

I froze beneath his touch. What?

I promise you, he said, Price will get what’s coming to him. Even if it’s the last thing I do.

A chill kissed the back of my neck with his words. I pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. Black pupils dilated in pools of flat, grey ice. The hairs on the back of my arm stood on end. Doubt surged through my nerves like an electric shock.

If I went after Price, Tom would want to go too. Dickie would insist on coming. Probably Oki and Sal. My friends were safe now, and I had to keep them that way no matter what the cost. Rae still needed help, and though Patti’s brain had been salvaged, she needed a new body. The realization hit me like a bullet to the stomach.

Price would have to wait.

I twisted my fingers in the fabric of Tom’s shirt and wrenched him toward me. I want to see that man dead, I said. But I won’t lose you to do it.

Tom’s gaze thawed to liquid and his eyes softened. He said, I feel the same way.

We’ll go hear what they have to say, I said. We can make plans. But we aren’t going to do anything rash. Deal?

Deal. He bent to press his cracked lips against mine.

My heart swelled against my ribs. It had taken me years to realize what was right in front of me. I wasn’t going to risk a moment of our time together. Not for anything.

Oh, for the love of lipstick! Cosmo appeared beside us and wiggled his hands between our bodies to pry us apart. Break it up.

Sorry, Cosmo, I said. Just making sure we were on the same wavelength.

I think we’ve all got it figured out now. He snapped his fingers at me. You’re in lo-oo-ove. Now snap out of it.

You’re right, I said. Back to business.

Cosmo grabbed my hand, pulled me through another doorway, and closed it before Tom got there.

What are you doing? I shouted. The long, white corridor seemed to twist and tighten in on us like a bright-white coffin. The lights pulsed with my heartbeat and I pried at the door with my fingertips.

Look here, girl. Cosmo grabbed me by both shoulders and stared into my eyes with the intensity of a maglev train hurtling out of the dark. I tried to step back but he held me tight. I’m happy for you, you know? Don’t think I’m not. I’m saying this as a friend.

Tom hammered on the other side of the door. I twisted in Cosmo’s grip.

His eyes darted to the door. His lips trembled as forced words out between clenched teeth. Be careful.

I twisted away from him and tried to open the door.

Unlock it, I said through gritted teeth. The frustration from earlier bubbled back up to the surface and seared my skin with heat. What’s the matter with you?

Just listen to me, he said. I heard him and that big, pale gorilla talking last night and I—

I’ve had enough of this, I said. It’s not cute anymore, Cosmo. Let him in.

Pinky, he said, his voice pleading. I will. I promise. Just listen. You can’t trust—

Now! The word tore from my throat, louder than I intended.

Cosmo flinched and stepped away from me. He brought up the holographic keypad and entered his code. The door shushed open. Tom filled the frame, his swollen face purple with rage.

Oops. Cosmo put a finger to his sparkly onyx lips. Sorry about that, Detective. I don’t know what happened there.

Tom grabbed Cosmo by the silver space suit and slammed him against the wall. He said, I know exactly what happened.

You do? Cosmo’s eyes darted nervously down the corridor.

A gigantic shape loomed out of the doorway at the far end. Prominent brow ridges hung low over beady, colourless eyes in a pale, squashed face. Gore, the SecurIntel goon and a former associate of Tom’s, stepped into the hallway.

Cosmo wilted.

Everything okay here? Gore said.

Tom ignored him. He glared at Cosmo and said, You’re jealous. Admit it. You can’t stand that Bubbles chose me over you.

You’re a lucky man. Cosmo smiled weakly. I’ll admit that much.

Let him go, Tom, I said. I can take care of myself.

Tom released the front of Cosmo’s suit and let him drop to the floor. It’s disrespectful is what it is.

Disrespectful to whom? Cosmo said. The silver fabric crinkled beneath his fingers as he ran his hands over the jacket to straighten it. He curled his upper lip at Tom. She’s got as much right to her wrong choices as anyone. I respect that. Unlike some people.

Tom cracked his knuckles. What’s that supposed to mean?

The difference between you and me, Detective, is that I’m not threatened by her relationship with you. Cosmo looked Tom up and down like he was assessing a questionable slab of meat at the butcher. Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘If you love someone, let them go?’

Tom made a sound halfway between a laugh and the snarl of a wounded dog. You think I’m threatened by you?

Cosmo pushed away from the wall and strode