by J. N. Chaney
She nodded as she continued walking toward me. “It’s encoded. Something Abbott came up with that only he or his assistant can verify.”
I opened up the line again. “This is Jace Hughes, escorting a courier for delivery. Sending you my delivery paperwork now. I’m sorry, did you say private airspace, as in where I’m cruising right now? I haven’t hit Eros 7 territory just yet.”
Calista indicated the data package was ready and I tapped out a text command for Siggy to send it on.
My question seemed to amuse Parker, because she chuckled and her tone softened. “This must be your first time. Eros 7 is just one estate, Mr. Hughes. The entirety of Bacchus System also belongs to my employer. All of the airspace in this sector is the personal property of Mr. Julian Abbott.”
“So you’re his private security, then.” That explained why she didn’t seem to bat an eye at the idea of an off book delivery.
“That’s right. Your delivery has been approved. Please proceed to Eros 7. If your ship attempts to deviate, defensive measures will be taken.”
She said all that with a cheerful tone that made me wonder if she was serious. Not that I had any plans of testing her. If Julian Abbot could afford to buy an entire system, I doubted he would skimp on security. On the upside, that meant we probably didn’t have to worry about Ravagers, pirates, or any government entities muscling their way in. If the system was privately owned, then it was up to the owner to defend it.
I cut the call and smiled at Calista. “Here we go. I have a feeling this is going to be an interesting job.”
By the time we walked off the Star and onto Eros 7’s private shuttle to the colony below, my prediction had come true. I had never been on a new settlement before, but I figured this place fit the bill.
Everything had that shiny new feel to it that made me feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t that I was embarrassed, I just didn’t understand how anyone could live like that. Servants hurried about cleaning, making sure every surface was spotless.
It was all too pristine for my taste. I didn’t mind a little dirt every now and then. In places like this, I always wondered whether or not you’re allowed to touch anything. Even the furniture looked like it was there as a display.
Before we got off the main promenade, a man dressed in a neat gray suit approached us at a fast pace. I could already tell from his beady little eyes and razor-thin nose that he was the type to shoo us away. When he spoke, his tone was all stiff and proper in a way that grated at my ears.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t be here. All deliveries go through a different dock.”
I didn’t care for the way he turned his nose up at me, so I crossed my arms. Calista did the same, giving the man her best imperial gaze.
“Listen here, Mr. Stick Up My Ass, I have a contract that says this delivery has to be made in person to Mr. Abbot. If I don’t follow this contract to the letter, I lose my pay. My friend here isn’t too keen on not getting paid, so I’d move if I were you.”
The butler paled a little but accepted the pad she held out, even if it was only by the tips of his fingers. “I see,” he said finally, annoyance plastered across his face. “Very well. Wait here. I’ll send a transport to pick you up and take you the back way. It’s unseemly for guests to see you.”
“Did you hear that?” I said, angling my head to look at Calista. “The help is insulting us. I wonder how Mr. Abbot would like to hear about his business partners being treated this way?”
“Good question,” she replied, playing along. “I guess we’ll have to ask him if that’s normal.”
Stiffly, the servant turned on his heel and walked back to us. He had clearly weighed the possibilities and come to the conclusion to err on the side of caution. His master might not care if he was rude to a couple of Renegades, but then again, maybe he would. Humans were fickle like that.
“My name is Jenkins. Please excuse my earlier behavior,” he said, giving a small bow. “It’s been a bit stressful around here as of late. I am happy to take you to Mr. Abbott. If you’ll just follow me.”
“That’s more like it,” I said, and we fell into step behind the butler as he led us to a row of mini hover transpos.
The house he took us to—nay, the mansion—was more opulent than even the docks. Here were mountains of a building material that was only mined in one specific system and cost as much as the Star for a single kilogram.
It was mostly used in furniture or as an accent wall. Julian Abbott had built his house with it. Gold was inlaid everywhere, and diamonds were sprinkled about like confetti. A party seemed to be winding down because people filled the space, mingling quietly. Most were missing various articles of clothing, and I saw a couple locked in a lover’s embrace, which was clearly headed somewhere more intimate. The couple showed no sign of leaving the room, and I had to avert my gaze when things took a natural progression.
Large holo displays dominated entire walls, and servants carrying platters covered with food and drinks milled around waiting for people to stop them. Technically, the station clock put the time at about midday, but the artificial lighting was dim to simulate nighttime for the partygoers.
Exotic plants and artwork decorated any leftover available space, but that was nothing compared to what we saw in one of the large open rooms.
A horse lay in the middle with flowers woven into its mane and a large formal tie knotted loosely around its neck. It gave a loud burp, then a nicker, and it let its head lean to the side against a gigantic cushion.
If I wasn’t mistaken, the animal was sauced.
Calista and I exchanged a bewildered look that said we couldn’t quite believe what was going on around us.
Overall, it was too much, like someone gave a teenager all the money in the galaxy and this was the result. It was overwhelming, but predictable.
Outside, Mr. Stick Up His Ass led us to a balcony then down a set of stairs to another room, this one with a view of the massive garden.
In one corner of the room sat an actual throne. A man sat in it, holding a cigar and looking bored. Judging from the clothes and the way he had one leg draped over the throne’s arm, this was our guy.
Two bulky security guards with the system’s name emblazoned on their chests stood behind, flanking the throne. Julian picked up a drink from a gilded table at his right side
I followed his gaze and blinked in surprise.
Two women, one blonde and the other sable-haired, were both clad in black skin suits that glistened like glass. They faced a masked-man bound to a wooden X and each held short, synth-leather whips.
Several light red marks covered his torso, but judging from the sounds he made, the man didn’t mind.
The blonde raised her arm, preparing to bring the whip down when one of the butlers walked by.
“Would you care for refreshment, Madams?”
She paused before turning a cat-like smile on him and speaking in a sultry voice. “I think I will, Stephen. It’s a good time for a break.”
The woman plucked a glass of champagne off the tray and handed it to her partner, then she snagged another for herself. They ignored the bound man and chatted about upcoming plans for the weekend. For his part, the butler seemed completely unfazed by what was going on around him. I got the distinct feeling that Stephen saw this kind of thing all the time.
“Deki fruit!” whimpered the man tied to wooden X.
“Safe word,” muttered the brunette, though it looked to me like she was disappointed.
The blonde knelt beside the man and patted his cheek. “Need something, Gregory?”
He nodded emphatically. “Getting a bit thirsty myself, Sami.”
“No problem, doll.” Sami picked up another glass of champagne and promptly dumped it out over Gregory’s head.
A sharp elbow in my side made me realize I was staring with my mouth partially open. I closed it and tore my eyes away from the scene before us. Calista had her eyes averted, looking pointedly at the man in the thr
one.
Remembering why we were there, I started walking again. “Are you sure you still want to be a Renegade? This is tame compared to some of the shit I’ve seen out in the Deadlands.”
Tight-lipped, Calista ignored me and came to a halt in front of Julian Abbott. He barely spared us a glance before going back to the spectacle on the other side of the room. Even that didn’t seem to interest him all that much from his somewhat slack expression and heavy lidded eyes.
“Mr. Abbot, I’m here to deliver your artifact, in person, as the contract stated,” Calista said, stepping forward.
The security guards watched her but didn’t react.
She had put the relic in a package box and now held it out to him.
Julian didn’t look at it. “Just put it with the others,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.
In one shadowy corner of the room, I spotted a table covered with a silk cloth. Like everything else in the palatial estate, it wasn’t a synthetic knockoff, but the real thing. Piled high on the surface were dozens of other packages, all unopened.
Knowing what we were delivering made me wonder what untold wealth might be in the other boxes. Some looked like they had been there for a while. I couldn’t fathom spending so much money on something I wouldn’t even look at.
Nonplussed, Calista dumped her package on the table and strode up to Julian without so much as a sideways glance at his guards. “Here,” she said, pushing her pad under his nose. “You have to acknowledge receipt, or I don’t get paid.”
Julian scowled at the second interruption and angled his face up to stare at her. As soon as he got a good look, his entire demeanor changed. A leer appeared on his lips and he got out of the throne. “Sweetheart, for you I’ll do almost anything.”
“All I want is for you to give me proof of receipt for the delivery,” she retorted, handing him the pad again.
This time he took it and completed the acceptance process. Instead of handing it back, he started circling her. I knew that look. I’d seen it plenty of times before. The trillionaire wasn’t thinking anything good.
I thought about stepping in, but he seemed to just be appraising her at the moment. It had to be humiliating for her, but it was better for her to really understand what could happen on the job. Next time she might be by herself and would need to be prepared.
“Are you sure? I’ve been with a lot of beautiful women, but never a Renegade. I’d pay you more for one night than you could make in a year.”
I briefly considered making a crack about her not being a Renegade, but decided not to fuel this particular fire.
“Oh, I’m sure,” Calista replied, snatching the pad back. “That concludes our business, Mr. Abbot. Please move out of my way.”
“Come on, just give me a chance,” he said, stepping closer.
His hand snaked out to caress her backside, and he finally crossed my line. I was debating whether to pull him away from her and pound his face in or just shoot him in the back. Calista made the choice null when she hauled back and socked him in the nose.
The entire room went silent except for Julian. Even the two women with the whips had paused and stood stock still, mouths open. My gaze shot to the security guards, and I was ready to pull my pistol if needed, but their boss waved them off.
I whistled and crossed my arms. “That was a hell of a punch.”
“I guess I deserved that,” he said, laughing like blood wasn’t dripping down his face and onto a thousand credit shirt. “I’m still game. If you ever want to make some extra cash, you know where to find me, beautiful.”
She smirked at him. “Go ahead and hold your breath on that one.”
On our way out, I couldn’t keep quiet. “Got to admit, didn’t see that coming.”
“My dad taught me to fight. Said if I ever needed to defend myself, he wanted me to know how.”
I grunted. “Smart man. But tell me something. If you can throw a left hook like that, how the hell did I ever manage to get your gun?”
She shot me a look. “The only reason you got my gun is because I was caught off guard. Security was after me, and I wasn’t expecting another Renegade to be there at the same time. It was a mistake; one I won’t be repeating.”
“Fair enough,” I told her.
“It did hurt like a bitch though,” she said, rubbing the knuckles on her left hand.
“I think I have some cooling gel on the ship. If not, I’m sure some good old fashioned ice will do the trick.”
She nodded as we exited the house and got into a mini cart that would take us back to the dock.
The rest of the way to the Star, I thought over what I had just witnessed. I hadn’t been giving Calista enough credit. If this was the life she wanted, who was I to stand in her way?
No one, it would seem. The woman could hold her own. Maybe instead of being at odds, we could start working as a team and finish up this job. If it all went well, I’d consider talking to Ollie about making good on his promise to take her on as a client. I figured I owed her that much.
21
Our next stop was on a planet called Quara, a little slice of paradise tucked comfortably between a nebula and a binary star system. Quara was quite the prize, mostly made up of islands, the largest of which could barely be considered a full continent. The lack of real estate made it less than ideal for colonization, but the excessive beachfront property was perfect for resorts. The planet was, as many in the Deadlands knew, infamous for being the vacation of choice for the Union’s more high profile CEOs and a handful of politicians. It was also far enough away from the border to fall outside of the law. People came here to party, whatever form that might take for those interested.
In other words, if you had the money, no one asked questions.
I wasn’t thrilled about being here, but we had a job to do and I aimed to finish it.
The Renegade Star docked in port 12, section 33. Calista and I departed through the cargo bay as soon as we had authorization to unload our goods. The dock was outdoors, allowing for sunlight to pour in through a retractable ceiling. The warm light struck me as I exited the ramp, followed by a cool breeze. “I’ve always wondered about this place,” said Calista. “They say the food here is on another level.”
“Is that what they say about it?” I asked, not bothering to look at her.
Two individuals hurried to the ramp and bowed quickly. “Can we assist you with moving your delivery?”
“Who are you supposed to be?” I asked.
“We work for Mr. Tribune. He sent us to assist you.”
“Is Tribune the client?” I asked, finally glancing at Calista.
“Sure is,” she remarked. “Alright, have at it, but I’m still accompanying you for the handoff.”
“Very good, madam,” said one of the men.
I walked off the ramp and into the nearby platform, scanning the dock to see what else was going on while I waited. Calista joined me and leaned against the nearby railing but said nothing.
It was busier than I expected, considering how exclusive it was. We’d only been granted access because we were here for a delivery. I’d half expected to see the same evidence as wealth that we’d just witnessed on Eros 7, but it was different. Where Julian was outlandish, the decor and atmosphere here were refined.
On the other side of the dock, a woman in a long white dress and sunglasses walked off of a personal yacht shuttle. The ship would normally have stood out, but not here. No, in this dock it was just another pristine, high quality vessel among many. If anything, the Star was the one that stood out, its hull covered in burn marks and scratches, the paint worn and faded. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the other ships had never been used.
Calista leaned forward, her attention on the woman in white. “Oh my gods, look who it is.”
I raised my brow. “Huh? You talking about that lady over there? What about her?”
She balked. “Don’t you know who that is? That’s Margaret V
anderwilde. I can’t believe it!”
I looked at the woman again but couldn’t place the face or the name. “Who?”
“The holo star. Wait, don’t you know who she is?”
I shrugged. “I don’t watch a lot of holos. Too busy. Why do you care about some actress?”
Calista scoffed. “Yet you knew who Julian Abbott was. Anyway, she’s only the biggest name this year. She just won the award for best supporting for the second year in a row!” She tilted her head. “How do you not know that? I swear, you must live on an asteroid or something.”
“I guess I just don’t care,” I remarked. “I’m surprised you do.”
“It’s not that. I just live in reality. Everyone knows about people like her. It’s why she’s here on this planet.”
The two servants came down the Star’s ramp, pushing a hovercart with the delivery package on top of it. “Follow us, please,” said one of them. “We’ll escort you to Mr. Tribune’s estate.”
“Estate?” I asked. “He owns property here?”
“Mr. Tribune is an investor, yes. He enjoys the resort so much that he chose to make this his second office.”
I whistled. “Sounds like you’ve got yourself a pretty fancy client.”
“I suppose so,” said Calista.
As the two servants continued ahead, I leaned over to Calista. “How did you pick this job up anyway? I’m surprised this is one of the ones Ollie got for you.”
“No, I had to pull in a favor,” she explained. “Ollie mostly gave me the idea to do this, but since I hired you he still took some of the fee.”
That made sense. If Ollie ever received a job from a higher end client, it would go to an actual Renegade, not a rookie like Calista who didn’t even have a ship of her own. Hell, she had to hire me just to get her here.
We followed the two men through the docking bay and into the open air outside. It was even brighter here, the wind crisp and easy on the lungs. I could taste the salt in the air as it swept in from the sea, which was only a short walk from here.