by Lace, Lisa
Desert World Savages
Lisa Lace
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Newsletter
Also by Lisa Lace
Chapter One
Dawn painted rosy streaks against the gray and blue-black sky when Tracy Walsh reached the loading dock. A single glance at the platform confirmed what she had suspected. The carrier hadn't shown up again. The newspapers he was supposed to deliver sat untended, the edges of the strapped bundles curling up in the cool morning breeze.
Tracy sighed.
Carriers were independent contractors, not employees. They bought newspapers and kept all the profits. Yesterday, when the carrier refused to pay his bill, she told him to show up at the dock today with the money or not show up at all. Apparently he chose to not show up.
Tracy shook her head. She knew people tried to take advantage of her because she was a woman, but she didn't put up with it.
The man had just forfeited his bond money. Unlike other district managers, she didn't let her carriers go too long without paying their bills, and the newspaper wouldn't be out a single cent. Unfortunately, she would be busy doing the boring tasks of delivering the papers, changing the locks on vending boxes, and finding a new carrier for the route.
With her cup of coffee in one hand and her briefcase tucked under her arm, she climbed the stairs in a freshly dry-cleaned suit. The balancing act was precarious but under control until the loading dock door flew open and hit her outstretched hand. Her coffee cup went flying, and lukewarm liquid splashed on her, dripping down her shirt.
"God damn," she swore, "don't you know not to fling that door open?" She looked up from the mess to see Bob Hamilton with his ridiculously perfect haircut, amusement crinkling around his eyes.
"Sorry," said Bob with a smirk. "I was coming out to see if you’d shown up yet. One of your carriers didn’t come."
Tracy chucked her empty coffee cup into the garbage can at the steel door entrance. When she looked up and saw Bob still standing there, she glared at him. He was her colleague not her boss, and he had no business checking up on her.
"I 'show up' at the same time each day, Bob. Just as I've done for the past four years. And I can see that a bundle is still there, and I know why."
"In case you didn't know, these papers need to be delivered by the deadline." He spoke slowly, as if she were mentally impaired.
"Gee," she said dryly, "I didn't know that. Thanks for telling me."
"You don't have to be sarcastic." Hamilton stood in front of her blocking the door, looking her up and down, his eyes settling on her breasts.
"You know," he said, his voice low, "I've got a remedy for that crankiness of yours."
She leveled her gaze to meet him eye-to-eye. "I hope that remedy works for your wife, because she’s got to be cranky, living with you. If you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
Tracy pushed past Hamilton and walked quickly up the hall to the transportation counter. Eddie, the transportation night supervisor, leaned back in his chair, his potbelly poking up between his suspenders. His gray beard hung down to his chest and surrounded his gap-toothed smile.
"Hiya, kiddo. Whoa, looks like you had a run-in with a latte."
She looked down at her coffee-stained shirt and sighed.
"Yeah."
"What's the suit for?"
"I'm applying for the zone manager position that just opened up."
"Yeah? Well, good luck, girl."
"Thanks. I'll need the master key for the downtown route, a set of forty locks, and a car."
"Another one bites the dust, eh?"
"No one wants to work anymore," she said.
"I can help you with the master key and the locks, but Hamilton took the last company car."
"What? Why?"
Eddie shrugged. "He said he was doing a market tour."
Tracy shook her head. The idiot knew she had a route to deliver and decided to do a market tour that was useless at this time of day. There was only one reason for that. "More like he's hiding his extracurricular activities from his wife by using a company car."
"Now, Tracy," chided Eddie, "there's no proof of that."
"All his market tours say the same thing."
"What's that?"
"All racks serviced."
Eddie looked at her quizzically, broke out into a big smile, and started laughing.
"Yes," he said. "I suppose they are."
Chapter Two
Reven stood in a line with a motley crew of men and beasts. His shoulder was sore, so he adjusted the weight of the duffel bag hanging from it, waiting for his turn to talk to the captain of the merchant ship. He was pissed, and the heat and dust of this forsaken backwater planet did not improve his mood.
Another thing that ticked him off was the insects-crawling-on-skin feeling produced by his holo disguise. He hoped that adopting the appearance of the captain's species would increase his chances of getting a berth on this ship. In addition, it was standard operating procedure in his previous line of work.
It seemed like a representative of every creature type from the Aligned Worlds was shuffling along in the queue with him. He saw things with wings, multiple arms, and appendages with functions he could only guess at.
I can't believe these are all sentient beings, he thought. But how sentient did you have to be to work as crew on a spaceship? Not very. You only need strong arms, a strong back, and the ability to follow orders. Even though he had recently gone AWOL, he was otherwise pretty good at following orders.
Looking around, he saw that the spaceport was so small it had only a landing area and a few buildings that housed maintenance and storage. Beads of sweat formed on Reven's brow as he waited to face the captain, and his stomach tightened. He needed to get on that ship now.
Hurry, he silently urged. The longer he stood out in the open, the more he risked exposure. Even now, he felt his disguise spit and crackle from the interaction of his sweat with the device. Every strange-looking creature pleading their case with the captain increased the possibly of it failing.
His enhanced hearing allowed him to keep track of the vetting of the hopefuls. Most were turned away.
Finally, he stood before the captain, who took Reven's forged papers without even glancing at his face. Reven stood silently, sweat dripping down his back, but the captain seemed un
aware of his distress.
"A Deneb?" the captain said with some surprise. He was a foul-looking man, thin and short. His nose had been broken and reset badly. Not a single genetic enhancement marked his features, unlike Rev who was graced with every one possible. "How did you land on this shithole?"
"Bad luck," said Reven.
The captain shrugged. "We make our own luck on this ship. You look like you'll do. From your papers, you know the rules. No drinking or substance use while in flight. This isn't a pleasure cruise. You'll bunk with the crew in the common quarters, and you need your own amenities. There is no ship's store, so make sure you have soap if you want it. There's me, the first and second mates to report to and no one else. Their names are Bris and Cax. If anyone else says they're the boss, they're lying. Avoid the restricted areas on the ship. They are marked in red. You can see colors, can't you?"
"Of course," said Reven.
"Good. Some of these fellows wouldn't know the color of their own mother's eyes. Anyway, if you're found in one of them, we'll space you immediately. Got it?"
"Yes, sir."
The captain cocked an eyebrow at him. "'Yes, sir'? I like the sound of that, but on this ship I'm Jaal, got it?"
Reven almost shook his head but caught himself in time. The informality was a sign of the man's incompetence.
"Yes, Jaal."
"Good. We leave in an hour. Be ready to board then."
"I'm ready now," Reven said.
"Can't wait to leave this pit, eh? I don't blame you." He pointed to a man who had stepped forward from the shadows under the ship. "Bris will settle you in." Jaal handed Reven's papers to Bris then made a waving off motion to the rest of the men standing in line. "The rest of you shove off. Crew's filled!"
Amid the sighs and grumbles of the disappointed applicants, Bris walked briskly away towards the nose of the ship. He walked with a slight bounce, a sign that his body found the gravity of this world too weak. Reven took note of this and the considerable development of the man's muscles. He gauged the man's strength, and the quickness of reflexes. Reven thought he could take Bris in a fight; his enhancements made him stronger than he looked. His training had taught him to hide his strength until it was needed, so he shuffled along the length of the ship, clutching his duffel.
"Come on, then," said Bris, looking over his shoulder. "I'm the first mate; Cax is second." Bris then repeated word for word the captain's spiel, putting special emphasis on the restricted sections.
Rev nodded his head. "You don't have to tell me twice."
Bris stopped short and turned, his eyes boring into Rev's.
"This is serious. Why do you think we're looking for crew here on this backwater planet? It's because some idiot decided to poke his nose where it didn't belong."
Reven knew. That was why he was here in the first place, against orders. He smiled his most obedient smile.
"Don't worry, Bris. I'm here to work. I'll follow the rules."
Every word Reven spoke was a lie. He couldn't wait to get into the restricted sections.
Chapter Three
Tracy sank into her sofa, clutching her phone. Her head was spinning with everything that had happened during the last two brutal weeks at work.
Besides finding a new carrier for the route that had gone down, Hamilton upped the competition for the zone manager job by claiming to do market tours every day. She found herself doing the same thing, cleaning graffiti off the vending boxes, putting in rack cards, and making sure the boxes had at least one paper showing in the window. This was on top of doing collections from carriers, attending department meetings, and filling out paperwork.
The last straw was the circulation director calling for a document update for all carrier contracts. She had to chase down the carriers to produce new copies of all their documents: insurance card, driver's license, and Social Security card. Since most carriers had day jobs, she had to spend extra hours on the docks to catch them, and it took forever. Despite all her hard work, Bob Hamilton snagged the promotion she deserved.
* * *
"Come on, Tracy," pleaded Carol over the phone. "All you do is work. It will be fun."
"You know I have to get up early," Tracy told her friend.
"Just two drinks."
Tracy snorted.
"Fine. One drink. Please. I don't want to go alone."
"I'll do it, for you, but it is ginger ale for me. You know I have to drive in the morning."
"That's a stupid job you have. You work all the time, you can't have any fun, and they don't appreciate you."
Carol was right on all points.
"Well, pick me up, girlfriend, and we'll light up the night."
"No, you pick me up. If I get lucky, I won't be driving home."
Tracy rolled her eyes. Carol didn't even realize she was assuming her friend wouldn't get lucky.
"Fine. What time?"
"Nine."
"See you then."
Tracy had half a mind to get drunk and call in sick the next morning. It wasn't as if she didn't have the sick time. She never took any. The more she thought about it, the better it sounded.
Before she knew it, she’d dialed the number for the single copy manager, Richard Dawes. She'd be damned if she called Hamilton. Fortunately, it went to voicemail.
She coughed into the phone. "Hey, Richard," she said feigning a gravelly voice, "I'm sorry, but I can't make it in tonight. I've got a temperature of a hundred and one, and—oh God, gotta go!" She made a retching noise as she clicked off the phone.
That should give him a good audio clue not to bother her with a phone call. Still, even though Richard had screwed her over by giving the promotion to Hamilton, Tracy felt ashamed of herself.
"Get a grip on yourself, girl," she told herself. "If they don't see you as valuable enough to give you a promotion, then obviously you won't be missed."
Chapter Four
Rev stood on the bridge of the ship in front of Captain Jaal, Bris and Cax. On the view screen, a blue-green pearl of a planet twisted lazily, clouds swirling in the atmosphere.
Notably, on the night side of the planet, the continents boasted brilliant displays of light on the landmasses. This planet had sentient life.
"It's a nonaligned world, and we need some supplies. Reven, I want you to go with Bris and Cax to help them."
"Me, Captain?"
"Denebs have many of the same features as the sentients that live here. You'll pass. All you need to do is keep your head down and do as you're told." The captain sniffed and then grimaced. "Gods, haven't you had a shower since you've been on board? Go help Cax check out the shuttle. I need to speak with Bris a minute."
"Yes, Captain."
Rev shook hands with the captain and Bris. As he turned to leave, his hand briefly brushed Bris's sleeve, leaving behind a small voice transmitter.
Rev left the bridge with Cax, and as he followed the mate down the corridor, he touched his ear to activate the listening device.
"He's been too curious. Yesterday I found him in the corridor outside the red section."
"You don't have to make your case again, Bris."
"I still say that spacing him will straighten out the problem."
"Like with that other fellow? See where that landed us? Another one of them tracking us. No. We'll make a report that one of our crewmen got lost on this nonaligned world. They'll come and get him if they want him. Better this way when he doesn't have anything to take to his bosses. You're sure he doesn't have any useful information, right?"
"I'm sure," growled Bris.
"Then do as I say, just as I said it. And then you can go get cargo."
"What? You think I'm an amateur now? How many times have I done this?"
"Enough," said the captain. "But you seem distracted by this crew situation. I don't need any complications on that planet."
"Yes, Captain," said Bris, sounding unhappy.
* * *
Rev had been avoiding the common soni
c showers because to use them he'd have to remove his disguise. On a ship that had three shifts running, finding a time when the showers were empty was problematic. Up till now no one had complained, but that wasn't the case when he met the second mate at the shuttle.
"You reek," said Cax.
"I was working the engine room today. It's a bit hot in there."
"You should get a shower."
"No time," said Bris as he climbed into the shuttle. "Besides, we can take care of that planetside."
Cax's face lit up.
"We're getting a room?"
"Yes," said Bris. "Best way to get the cargo ready."
Bris settled into the pilot's seat, pulling on his harness, and Cax did the same.
"Yeah, cargo," chuckled Cax.
"What are you guys talking about?" said Rev. He draped his arms casually over their seats.
"Nothing,” Bris said sharply. “We can't take the shuttle into the city, so we park it outside of town. We have a lot of supplies to gather. There's a room to store them until we're ready to leave."
"And sometimes we bring back some entertainment," Cax added.
"What kind of entertainment?"
"The best kind." Cax leered at him.
"Strap in," said Bris with a harsh edge to his voice. "That is, unless you want to be tossed to the bulkhead when this crate starts moving."