Read Blood Ocean for Free Online

one would have ever confused one of those simpletons for a runner.
    Which was why she’d thought her plan had been perfect—perfect, that is, until the Boxers had not only decided to blood rape her runner, but had botched it and killed him in the process. So here she was. Instead of harvesting scraps and combining her own chems, she was dressed like a transvestite and staring at the Morgue Ship, wondering how in a Cheech-and-Chong Hell she’d be able to get inside and retrieve her product.
    “What you doing there? Hey!”
    A Vitamin V staggered towards her. Bald. Old. Shriveled.
    Please, God, no.
    “What you hiding under that dress? Come on. Show me what you’re made of.”
    Smiling on the outside, she shook her head slightly. What were the odds that she’d dress up as a man dressing up as a woman and actually be asked to prove it?
    He stepped into the shadows next to her. His breath reeked of Vodka. His bloodshot eyes made it clear that he wanted to own her. Before she knew it, he groped her with his left hand, squeezing her breasts painfully.
    She smacked his hand away and was about to shove her palm into the base of his nose, making quick work, but she wasn’t ready to lose her disguise just yet.
    “What’s this?” He went cross-eyed. “Those are real?”
    Lowering her head, she smiled and blinked her fake lashes. “I wish. Implants from the Corpers. You like?”
    He stared at her a moment, then shook his head. He pushed her hard enough so she had to take two steps backwards to keep her balance on her three inch heels. “Ruined a good thing is what you did.” He spat at her feet. “You took it too far.”
    She imagined piercing his left eye with one of her heels, but instead acted as if his words hurt and shoved out her lower lip. “You don’t like me? You don’t want me?”
    The Vitamin V backed away and shook his head. He looked around, wild-eyed, for a moment as if he’d just discovered where he was, then staggered back the way he’d come.
    The irony wasn’t lost on her.
    She straightened her dress and resumed her vigil. The Water Dogs owned the morgue. It was just about the only ship they owned. Otherwise, they slept in slings on the sides of other ships, divvying the wealth of the ocean to the ship owners for their own score of chits.
    The thing about the sea was that everything eventually ended up there. Even the bodies. And when they found their way to the water, it was the Water Dogs who took them and recycled them. Everyone knew what happened to the bodies. It wasn’t something people talked about, but they knew. After all, the Water Dogs paid well for the bodies, providing fish futures to the families of the deceased for as long as the body lasted as bait. She’d heard that before the end time they’d planted bodies in the ground. The idea was too ridiculous. What would grow from them? Where was their use? She’d long ago realized that there’d once been a way of life based on waste. The idea of throwing anything away, even a body, was as alien to her as the idea of living on land.
    The Water Dog she’d been watching left the hold of the ship and slipped over the side into the water. Now was her chance.
    The Morgue Ship was little more than a low-slung pleasure yacht. About twenty meters from stem to stern, the main cabin stood less than a man’s height. Clearly much of the ship was beneath the waterline. The deck was littered with stacks of old clothes and odd items of the deceased. Once every month the Water Dogs held a trade fair, offering what they had for what they needed. As Lopez-Larou approached, she saw a hip pack she’d love to get her hands on.
    She glanced left and right, then peered into the rigging of the nearby ships. Seeing no one, she stepped onto the ship, removed both her shoes and tied them to her waist, and then hurried to the door to the cabin. She put her ear to it; hearing nothing, she opened it and slipped inside.
    She took a moment to let her eyes adjust.