Soft footsteps sounded outside, and she glanced over her shoulder. Zavon entered, looking like a cat that has had an extra helping of cream. He stretched.
“We did it,” he said, grinning.
She couldn’t help it, she reached over and pulled him into a kiss. He always tasted a little of cinnamon, mingled with a warm, musky scent. She pushed away. Why couldn’t she restrain herself, especially now, in the middle of a dangerous job? They needed to depart at once.
Zavon sat in the copilot seat, and flicked the plush spider hanging from the ceiling, making it swing back and forth. “I wonder if this good luck charm works?” he asked. “Most don’t.”
She ignored that comment. Zavon wasn’t a pilot. He wouldn’t understand the little charms and rituals.
“You sure your contact will let us out without having to deal with another set of corrupt officials?” she asked him. The spaceport was apparently overrun with corruption from what Zavon had said, to an almost unbelievable level. Funny, when she’d last been to Sherran Moon, it wasn’t like that. That had been before the war, so things must have changed, as they had in so many places throughout the Tri-Suns system.
“Not a problem,” Zavon said. “He’s the agreeable type who enjoys a monetary bonus for his work.”
Khouri rolled her eyes. “So, another corrupt individual to help us on this job? The Foundation isn’t about corruption, it’s about helping those less well off.” She quoted Zavon’s own words when he first came to her a few months ago, wanting to recruit her.
He didn’t react to the quote. “Hey, I cut out the corrupt middle man and went straight to the corrupt service provider. Less bureaucracy that way.”
He opened a channel. “Tower 3, this is Star Nomad asking for clearance.”
“Clearance granted,” a voice replied over the comm. “Have a nice day.”
Khouri’s fingers played across the console. The engines whined to life, and she felt the subtle vibration from the power plant run through her seat. The ship lifted and began to move out of the docking bay. It couldn’t be soon enough for Khouri. The sense of foreboding had deepened, despite the apparent ease of their departure.
Zavon, on the other hand, wore his devil-may-care expression. His arms were crossed behind his head, and Khouri suspected if the co-pilot seat could’ve reclined, his feet would have been propped up on the console.
Khouri shook her head. He could afford to relax. She angled the Star Nomad upward and increased acceleration. It felt like it took forever. Piloting the ancient freighter was a far cry from racing a sunrunner.
Sherran Moon’s capital city spread out below. In the distance were glittering, faerie-like silver towers and a huge wheel, and even some small lakes. It looked like an amusement park from old Earth. Then she remembered—Cosmic Wonders. It was supposed to look like an ancient amusement park.
She further increased acceleration and the Nomad headed out of the atmosphere and into the cold blackness of space. Sherran Moon’s brilliant green-blue limb curved below them.
It seemed like the proverbial milk run. Much easier than Khouri had imagined.
5
The Space port was surrounded by a run-down part of Sherran City. Many of the buildings needed repair, and clearly maintenance didn't get out here as often, it seemed like every other street light was broken. Alisa hadn’t noticed it earlier that day when they headed to Cosmic Wonders, because she’d been chatting with Jelena and Stanislav.
They reached the space port, walking down the huge access tunnel, and headed toward Docking Bay 23. Leonidas stopped abruptly behind her and the Doctor, and scanned the tunnel behind him.
"What is it?" Alisa asked in a low voice. Clearly Leonidas was concerned about someone behind them.
His eyes narrowed. ”I’m not sure, but I believe we are being followed.” He stared for a moment longer. “I don’t detect anyone there. But still…” He trailed off.
Abelardus and Young-Hee both paused, concentrating.
“I don’t detect anyone there,” Young-Hee said.
Abelardus closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened them. “I don’t either.”
A chill ran down Alisa's spine. She wished she hadn't left her blazer pistol back in the ship, but they were going to Cosmic Wonders. Leonidas looked like he wished he'd had his Destroyer, while the other two just looked worried.
“If there’s someone there, I should be able to detect them,” Abelardus muttered.
“Come on,” she said. It hit her then that she sounded like Jelena had at the park, only anxious instead of excited. She forced a smile and slapped Leonidas on the arm. His muscles felt reassuringly solid. “Let’s get to the ship.”
The four of them picked up the pace. The access tunnel’s lights were dimmer than they should be in this area.
Abelardus glanced around at the ceiling and floor lighting, surprised expression deepening. “Why can’t Sherran Moon’s starport authority pay for decent lighting? This place is a dump.”
“Perhaps there’s a brown out,” Young-Hee said.
“That would be a coincidence,” Alisa replied. She flashed on the image of Mica tapping into the spaceport’s power supply. She dismissed the silly thought. “The power runs the security cameras, too,” she said, looking around. There was a blister-shaped camera in the corner near the ceiling. There was no way to tell if it was currently functioning.
Leonidas dropped back a few paces and stopped.
Alisa shot him a questioning glance. He held up a hand, listening. “Nothing,” he said. “I could have sworn there was an echo behind us.
“That’s why they are called echoes,” observed Abelardus acidly. “Because that’s what they do.”
“Thank you, Starseer, for that clarification,” Leonidas replied.
They reached the pod of docking bays where the Nomad was parked. The lights were low in the pod as well. The nearest bay, 21, was empty. The Nomad was in Bay 23, across from them, hidden behind a huge concrete buttress. The place was deserted. There was a big cargo “can” beside one wall between Bay 21 and 22. The cargo can was ten meters by six meters, large enough to carry supplies for a crew for a few months, or even serve as extra living space when a hauler didn’t have a full cargo.
“Weird that this can was left here,” Alisa said to the others. It was up against where a charging station was located. The sign for the station was just above the can. She reached for the blazer that wasn’t on her belt, and swore under her breath. Why had she gone and left it at the ship again? That’s right, because they had visited Cosmic Wonders.
A load-lifter was parked in the middle of the pod amid stacks of cargo cubes and boxes strewn about.
She shook her head. “Someone’s not clearing the pod.” That was against standard spaceport regs. It hadn’t looked like that when they’d left the Nomad’s docking bay that morning.
Leonidas’s gaze swept the pod, and his eyes narrowed in disapproval. “This certainly isn’t a military installation,” he said.
“It’s sloppy,” Alisa agreed. “It reflects poorly on the spaceport’s ground crew.” It really was odd. That was an access and safety issue, especially when there was a parking alcove just a few meters away.
It was then she glimpsed a body in the shadows beside the load-lifter, sprawled on the concrete decking. It was a Sherran Moon starport worker, in the gray-green jumpsuit they wore. His box cap lay upended nearby, and his bald head was dark with blood.
She tried to ignore the body beside the load-lifter and took a few steps forward so she would be able to glimpse the Nomad in its bay. She took a few more steps forward until she could see around the massive concrete bulkhead and into the interior of the bay. The bay was dark, except for faint light coming from the far end, outside. Aldrin the gas giant hung low in the sky, its light mingling with the spaceport landing lights.
The huge bay was empty. The Star Nomad was gone.
Shadows moved toward them from the walls of the empty bay and Alisa’
s heart skipped a beat. She took a step back. Leonidas came up alongside her. The shadows resolved into half-a-dozen or so expensively dressed men and women in red leather with lots of gold jewelry and odd looking, broad-brimmed hats.
“Captain Marchenko, I’m surprised to see you here,” said a particularly skeletal man with a beard that had elaborate braids. “Kind of looks like you were left behind.” He grinned, and his teeth gleamed gold.
“I think she's surprised to see us,” said a woman with black hair, also in braids, hands on her hips. Her broad-brimmed hat had one side turned up. Her bony-fingered hand held a destroyer pistol. She smiled humorlessly.
“Who are you, and what happened to my ship?” Alisa asked. The woman's posture was relaxed and yet seemed coiled for action at the same time.
Leonidas strode up to join Alisa. He gave the newcomers a brooking-no-nonsense sort of look, the kind of look he may once have given Imperial recruits back in the day.
"Why don't we just leave each other alone.” He held a combat knife in his right hand.
The woman actually blanched, and took a step back. Two men drew destroyer pistols and pointed them at Leonidas.
“Think you can take all of us, big man?” A weedy-looking fellow said. “You and your combat knife against our destroyers?” He grinned.
“What’s your beef with us?” Alisa demanded. Annoyance rose in her. This was ridiculous. The Nomad was gone, presumably Beck, Yumi, Alejandro, and Mica with it, and these thugs sauntered in like they owned the place, acting all menacing.
She shot Abelardus and Young-Hee a disapproving look. What good was having a pair of Starseers along if they couldn’t detect thugs in advance?
Neither of us sensed them, Abelardus said in her mind. They must be using qui-gorn.
The apparent leader, the man with the braided beard, laughed. “Captain Marchenko. We know who you are, and that you have Starseers on your ship.” He tapped his skull. “We came prepared.”
“But why?”
“You stole our cargo,” he said. “We want it back.”
Alisa shook her head. “We stole no cargo,” she said. “My ship carried a legitimate cargo for Nova Culinary Systems.”
He grinned, fiddled with a strap on his belt. “Really?” he asked idly. “That’s rich, coming from someone whose ship was hauling our spice lab.”
“Your spice lab?” Alisa was thoroughly confused now. “We had a job with Nova Culinary systems to transport the spice lab here and then pick up another shipment to go with it.”
The thugs all began laughing. The woman with the braided hair stopped laughing abruptly and squinted at Alisa. “That was our spice lab. You stole it. Plain and simple.”
Alisa gestured at the empty bay. “Do you see my ship anywhere around here?”
“Not my problem if you can’t hang on to it.”
The leader broke in. “Or you can’t keep a good handle on your crew.”
This was insane. Nuts. Alisa shook her head. “You’ve got the wrong—“
The leader cut her off with a slashing motion of his hand. “The wrong cargo? I don’t think so. This cargo is one of kind.”
Leonidas gave the thugs another hard look. “You are making a mistake.” His voice was a low rumble. “Move along.”
“Nope, not happening,” the leader said. He motioned at his companions. “We’re going to talk with you at length.”
The woman struck a pose, one bony hand on her hip, and the other waving her destroyer at Alisa and Leonidas. “The Crimson Star Pirates don’t move along. No, we decide when and where to go.”
Alisa rolled her eyes. “You’re kidding, right? Crimson Star Pirates? Never heard of you.”
The pirates looked surprised. “We’re infamous,” one said.
Alisa shrugged. “Maybe to yourselves. I’ve never heard of you. Have you heard of them?” she asked Leonidas.
“No,” he replied.
Alisa grinned at the pirate woman. “Then I guess you aren’t as infamous as you think you.”
“Shut up or those will be the last words you ever say,” the woman growled. “I’m serious.” She sauntered up to Leonidas. “You better pay attention, too, big boy, or I’ll put a new hole in you.”
Alisa thought she heard a faint sound of hissing air, like an airlock opening behind her, but she couldn’t be sure. The thugs didn’t seem to notice. They were like Perun weasels fixated on prey, oblivious to anything else.
Abelardus’s telepathic voice shouted in her mind. There are people in that cargo container!
Alisa whirled around. The side of the cargo had slid open, revealing the lighted interior of a habitation module. Men rushed from the module, carrying blazer pistols and rifles, and fanned out. They wore business suits with high collars, and leather shoes that gleamed in the low light.
The pirate leader scowled at the newcomers. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.
One man, wearing a gold comm unit on his wrist, stepped forward. “We’re Protection Incorporated. We’re the ones that arranged for this shipment.” He pointed at Alisa. “Her ship carried our cargo.”
“We don’t work for mafia,” Alisa said, hands on her hips. She was surrounded by crazy people. “We were hired by Nova Culinary systems to deliver a spice lab, with a layover here.”
The man chuckled humorlessly. “Nova Culinary is one of our, ah, subsidiaries. So, you were actually working for us.”
Alisa rested her hand on the load lifter’s frame. Mafia goons to one side, idiot pirates to the other. This was a lousy way to end what had been a fun day.
“Listen,” Alisa said. “We were just doing a job.”
“Yeah, stealing our cargo,” the pirate leader said.
“No, stealing our cargo,” the mafia leader said, glaring at the pirates.
“Dazzle Club stole it from us,” the lady pirate said, eyes narrowed. The woman aimed her destroyer pistol at the head mafia goon, and he responded by pointing his blazer pistol at her.
“We’re both dead if you fire,” he said. “We had nothing to do with Dazzle Club stealing it from you. We stole it from them, fair and square.”
Alisa’s head was spinning from the back and forth. “Who is Dazzle Club?” she asked Leonidas.
He shrugged. “I assume another mafia.”
“Just business!” the woman spat. “My lover Francis died getting the spice lab in the first place.”
“Not our fault he died,” another Protections Inc. goon muttered, “or that he was your lover.”
“I heard that! I’ll happily shoot the lot of you.”
Leonidas’s head swiveled back and forth between the two groups. He held his combat knife low, against his leg.
Young-Hee and I can each take control of a pirate or goon, Abelardus said in Alisa’s mind.
“You sure?” Alisa asked in a whisper.
I wouldn’t offer if I couldn’t. We can for a moment at any rate.
“Okay, take one of each.” She leaned over to Leonidas, her lips nearly brushing his shoulder. The pirates and mafia goons were busily squaring off with each other and didn’t notice. “Get ready to attack,” she whispered.
Leonidas nodded fractionally. She needed to find a weapon, but he was ready.
“Listen, we can work out a deal,” the mafia leader told the Crimson Star pirates. “There’s no reason for bloodshed.”
“More bloodshed, you mean,” the pirate leader said. “We salvaged the spice lab. Us, not you.”
The mafia leader shrugged. “We appropriated it from someone else, not you pirates."
“You mean you stole it from Dazzle Club, who stole it from us. It's ours."
The way the arguments circled around each other Alisa was beginning to think that she’d die of old age before the two sides stopped arguing. This would be hilarious if it weren’t so dangerous, Alisa thought. They were like roosters squaring off.
Something moved off to her left. A shadowy figure crept low to the ground along the wall there. The s
hadowy figure motioned at her to get down. She knelt beside the load-lifter. The mafia and pirates didn’t seem to notice. Their respective leaders were practically nose-to-nose now, and their respective groups raptly watched the face off.
Something whizzed over Alisa’s head. The right-most pirate clutched his neck and fell. She glanced at Leonidas but he still held his combat knife. It had come from someone else.
"Now," she hissed.
Yes, Abelardus replied. A mafia goon and a pirate both stiffened, then slowly raised their pistols, moving puppet-like. They each fired at one of the other’s associates. A pirate and a mafia goon collapsed, smoke rolling out the holes the respective blazer pistols had made.
“What in the hells!” The lady pirate yelled, and opened up at the mafia goon opposite her.
Suddenly energy bolts filled the air. Pirates scrambled back to a stack of cargo cubes, while the mafia hit the deck, except for the ones that Abelardus and Young-Hee both controlled. They continued to fire.
The controlled mafia goon took several hits before collapsing, while the pirate fell to one knee, taking out another mafia before falling backwards with a smoldering hole in his forehead.
Leonidas lunged at one mafia goon, and slashed at the man's neck with the combat knife, scooping up the goon's blazer as it slipped from his fingers. Leonidas sprinted back to the shelter of the load lifter, hunkering down beside Alisa.
Alisa glimpsed their mysterious ally, crouching close to the nearest wall. The figure held a wand-like weapon. Across the pod another pirate popped up from behind cargo cubes and raising a destroyer rifle. Their ally pointed the wand at the pirate. The man suddenly clutched at the dart protruding from his neck, and sprawled on the floor, not moving. He was either dead or tranquilized, Alisa wasn’t sure which.
In seconds, a number of the thugs on both sides were sprawled dead on the ground. The two leaders lay near each other, smoke rolling from holes in their chests, eyes staring sightlessly off into space. The others were hunkered down behind crates, boxes, and fuel tanks, which had taken several hits but hadn’t sprouted flame or exploded, which meant they were likely empty.
Spice Crimes Page 5