Baz huddled them together. “Okay. Stay frosty,” he said, looking back and forth from Kat to Boo, his eyes skipping over Leo, who stood between them. “Grims is bound to be cranked off already because we’re late. Plus that bounty on my head isn’t getting any smaller, so . . .”
“Wait, you don’t think Grimsley?” Kat questioned.
“Doubtful,” Baz answered. “I think we’re still more useful to him alive than dead, but you never can be sure. He’s an opportunist.”
Leo didn’t like the sound of that. If there was one thing you wanted to be sure about a person, it was probably whether or not they wanted to kill you.
“Just keep your eyes peeled and let me do all the talking.”
Baz pressed a button on the control switch. “Bastian Black,” he said into the com. The door slid open. The crew of the Icarus hesitated, its captain making minor adjustments to his hair of all things.
“I hate this part,” Boo mumbled.
“Why do you hate this part? Why does he hate this part?” Leo asked, glancing from Boo to Kat.
“He doesn’t trust this guy. Neither do I. Gerrod Grimsley is a snake. But I guess maybe you have to be when you play both sides.”
“Both sides of what?”
“You really are naive, stowaway,” Kat said, following Baz into the room, her hand resting on the handle of the weapon by her side.
“She means the war,” Boo whispered.
“Right,” Leo said. And what side are you on? Leo almost asked. But then he caught himself. It was a stupid question. They were pirates, after all.
They didn’t have a side.
This wasn’t Leo’s first encounter with traders. Far from it. The Beagle would often stop to resupply at Aykarian depots, way stations in space, like orbiting 7-Elevens. While docked, their father would take Leo and Gareth to the open market to get a few things that weren’t standard issue. Usually candy—the Krellian kind that felt like paper but melted on your tongue, leaving a treacly aftertaste—but sometimes there were imports all the way from Earth. Snickers bars or stale animal crackers or bags of chips that had passed from hand to hand, cargo ship to cargo ship. But you had to be careful; at one post they purchased what they thought were pineapples a little past their prime. Turns out they were a kind of floating swamp creature that had been harvested from a nearby planet—a truth that became apparent the moment Leo’s dad cut it open and its stinking guts spilled out.
The best was six months ago. They’d stopped at a base run by the Aykari but with a heavy human contingent on board, including a woman who had an unopened container of popcorn. Actual Orville Redenbacher. Dr. Calvin Fender, seeing the look on the boys’ faces, forked over twelve pentars for it—an extraordinary sum—and that evening they managed to pop it in the Beagle’s food warmers, adding a blizzard of salt. The Fenders huddled on Leo’s cot and watched vid feeds of old superhero movies, shoveling in the precious puffed kernels by the fistful while the Avengers beat back the alien hordes. Iron Man and friends made it look so easy.
There was no popcorn in the room Leo entered, but thankfully there were no menacing toothy octopuses either. There appeared to be nothing at all for sale. If this Grimsley was a merchant, he kept his wares well hidden. Instead, there was a bar and a viewport of the starscape. Several chairs of a fashion Leo didn’t recognize were scattered around the room. Only one of them was occupied.
“Bastian Black. You made it. . . . Finally.”
The human Leo guessed to be Grimsley stood up to greet them. He was tall, nearly equal to the Queleti Leo stood beside, and dressed in a style much different from the Icarus’s captain. His fine black suit shimmered when he moved, the strange material capturing and rearranging the light. Hoops of gold on his wrists reflected the light as well—as did, Leo noticed, his completely bald crown. Everything seemed straight and narrow on the man, except for his nose, which took a serious curve about half the way down. Leo guessed it had been broken. Probably more than once. It explained the nasal quality of his voice, a kind of steady whine, not unlike Skits’s.
“Nice to see you, Grims,” Baz said, moving forward, leaving the other three by the door. It was only then that Leo noticed the two bipedal robots in the corners on either side of the room, both of them plated with armor and holding rifles. Security bots. Cheaper than hired thugs in the long run and much less likely to stab you in the back—provided no one programmed them to. If Baz noticed the armed robots standing guard, he didn’t show it. Then again, he’d obviously been here before. Leo glanced over his shoulder at the door; at least he could make a quick escape if he needed to.
Is there any other kind?
“You want something to drink?” Grimsley said, motioning to the bar. “I’ve got some starshine. There’s a lady on board who cooks it up. Tastes like elephant piss but what are you gonna do? The nearest brewery’s a hundred light-years away.”
“I’m good, thanks,” Baz answered.
“What about your crew? I see you’ve added to it since we talked last,” Grimsley said, his eyes resting temporarily on Leo. This man really did think he was a pirate. Leo started to shake his head.
“What? You mean Leo?” Baz said nonchalantly, pointing with a thumb. “He’s temporary. Found him hitching a ride in my cargo hold. Speaking of which, you wouldn’t happen to know any mostly honest pilots making a run into Coalition territory, would you?”
Grimsley gave Leo one last hard stare—intense enough that Leo glanced down at his Coalition-issued boots. “I don’t know anyone honest,” he replied. “But that shouldn’t come as a surprise.” The trader’s eyes gravitated to the large metal case the Queleti held. “Are those?”
Baz nodded and Boo stepped forward, depositing the case at the captain’s feet before coming back to the door to stand beside Leo. “I told you I’d get them,” Baz said, running a hand through his hair, perhaps to proudly show off that he still had some. “It just took a little longer than expected.”
Grimsley knelt down—Leo heard the man’s knees pop, that’s how quiet it was in the room—and undid the latch on the case, releasing a soft hiss and a trickle of steam. Leo could guess what was inside. The very thing Bastian Black had boarded the Beagle for. The most precious substance of all.
“Fifteen cores,” Baz said.
In its raw form, ventasium gave off an iridescent, greenish-blue glow, but all Leo could see were cylinders made of a special metal alloy, the cores built to keep the V stable and safe—just waiting to react with the other more common elements and charge up an FTL drive, blasting you from one star to the next.
Grimsley stared at the three rows of canisters. Leo could see the look of disappointment—or was it frustration—pass over the trader’s face. He also noticed Kat’s eyes darting to the corners of the room, to the two robotic sentries. They hadn’t moved. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t. Their owner would only need to give the command.
“We said twenty,” Grimsley said. His voice sounded calm. Just stating a fact. Pointing out the math.
Baz put one hand up. “Right. I know. And honestly I hoped we’d have them all, but the last ship we boarded had already been cleaned out by the Djarik. There wasn’t much I could do.”
The last ship. Bastian Black had actually hoped to score five cores of ventasium off a crippled Coalition vessel sitting dead in space. Instead, he got Leo. Raw deal, Leo thought, from both their perspectives.
The trader didn’t care much for Baz’s offer, or his excuse.
“We agreed on twenty. I paid you up front for ten. When we make an agreement, I expect you to deliver. That’s good business. This . . .” Grimsley sighed as he looked over the contents of the case. “This is a disappointment.”
Kat’s eyes darted to the corners again. Her hand still rested on her pistol. Leo felt Boo inch one step closer to him, near enough that Leo could smell the alien’s musk; it reminded Leo of mossy damp earth. Earth earth. He didn’t mind being so close, though; Grimsley might be almost as tall as Boo, but the Quel
eti had twice the arms and probably ten times the muscle.
“I realize that,” Baz said, his voice strained, but still calm. “And I tried. But you have to understand, it’s getting crazy out there. I can’t go to a single system without being spotted by an Aykarian enforcer or running into a Djarik warship. It was fine when they were just picking on each other, but they’ve made me a target now.”
“I know,” Grimsley said. “I’ve seen the notices. Word gets around, Baz. You’re getting famous. The Djarik bounty is almost as big as the one the Aykari put on your head.”
“So then you see how difficult it is,” Baz protested. “I’m lucky I could get this much.”
“Save the excuses, Baz. I need those cores. You know how this works. I have customers of my own. A reputation to uphold.” The trader bent over and slid one of the cylinders of refined ventasium out of its padded slot in the center of the crate, careful to hold it by the ends. The casing surrounding the V was impenetrable—a special Aykarian design—but some people, humans especially, were still nervous when handling them. Understandable, when you knew the kind of power they contained. When you knew the cost of getting them in the first place. Leo had personally never held one. He never wanted to.
Grimsley moved to the bar and slotted the container into a machine—one Leo had assumed was used to make drinks, but instead must be used to test ventasium. The machine hummed for a moment and then a string of green lights marched across its face. The trader’s face lit up as well. The core was at full strength—enough juice to allow a ship to jump halfway across the galaxy and back. And he had fifteen of them. He carefully returned the canister to its nest.
“I’ll tell you what,” Grimsley said with a sigh of resignation. “You promised me twenty, you brought me fifteen. I already paid you for ten. We’ll just call it even.”
He went to close the case. Baz stopped it with his foot.
Leo felt Boo’s hairs bristle; that couldn’t be a good sign. The door was right there. He could bolt. Head back to the hangar. Try to find someone else who could help him. Baz already said he’d let him go. But at the same time, Leo was afraid to move, worried that it might cause those two security bots in the corners to twitch, and even the slightest twitch could set Kat off. He remembered what she’d done to Captain Saito—how quick she could move. She already looked like a rattlesnake coiled in a bush.
Baz, on the other hand, was waving his arms around dramatically. “How is that even?” he said, raising his voice. “You at least owe me for five.”
“Consider it a promise-breaking fee,” Grimsley replied. “The cost of doing business poorly.”
“Poorly? How about my fee for letting you sit on your butt in your fancy suit and your fancy chair making people like us do your dirty work for you? You and I both know you are going to turn around and sell this stuff for double what you paid me for it. I risked my life to get these. We risked our lives,” he added, motioning behind him to his crew. “So how about you walk over to that little safe you keep behind the counter and pay me for the five cores you still owe me. And then we will call it even.”
A heavy silence settled over the room, so quiet Leo could hear the whistling exhales making their way through the trader’s crooked nose.
Grimsley stood up, straightened his suit, and gave his bald head a rub. He casually walked back to the bar.
His hand vanished under the counter.
Leo had practiced magic for years. He knew about stashing things in secret places. He held his breath, trying to watch the robots and Grimsley and Baz and Kat all at once. Are you happy now, Gareth? he thought. Is this what you had in mind?
The hand reappeared from under the bar, not with a weapon like Leo feared, but with a stack of ornately engraved metal chips. Aykarian pentars in large denominations. One of the few currencies generally accepted among the various tribes and species in this little dust cloud of the universe.
Leo started to breathe again.
The man crossed the room and handed the money to Baz, who stuffed the chips into an inside pocket of his jacket.
“You are a difficult man,” Grimsley said, which prompted a snort from Kat. “But you’re right: it’s getting even more dangerous out there. This blasted war is everywhere now and it’s only getting worse. Whispers around the Point say the Djarik are working on something. Something big. Something that could tip the balance in their favor permanently.” The slick-suited trader glanced at Leo once more, taking him in from head to toe. It made Leo shiver. Grimsley turned his attention back to Black. “You have to understand, it’s getting harder and harder to remain neutral. I’m not sure how much longer we’ll be able to do business, you and I.”
“You gotta do what you gotta do.” Baz said. He turned and nodded to Kat, who activated the door. “Nothing lasts forever,” he added.
“No. Nothing does,” Grimsley agreed. The trader extended his hand. The captain hesitated but finally took it. “Goodbye, Baz. It has been a pleasure.”
“Till next time,” Black said.
Grimsley just smiled.
Once they were past the door, Bastian Black started to walk quickly. So quickly that Leo nearly broke into a jog to keep up. The captain didn’t stop until he turned a corner. He looked around and then removed the pentars from his jacket, counting them more carefully.
“All there?” Boo asked.
Baz nodded, though he didn’t look happy.
“Well, that went better than expected,” Kat said. “Nobody got shot at least. And we got paid what we deserved.”
“Not exactly,” Baz said. “This is for fifteen. We only gave him ten.” Baz dropped the pentars back into his pocket.
“What are you talking about?” Kat asked. “There were fifteen cores in the case. I counted.”
“There were fifteen containers. But five of them were empty. Grimsley always takes one from the middle to test. Never from the ends. Every time. Besides, he’s been shortchanging us on the price of V for a while now. He deserved it.”
So much for honor among thieves. “Wait. So when he does test them all, isn’t he going to be angry?” Leo asked.
“He’s going to be thoroughly cranked. Which is why we need to move. Besides, I’m pretty sure he wants to kill me anyway,” Baz continued. “I saw it in his eyes when we said goodbye. He’ll collect the bounty on my head and use me as an example to others who don’t make their deliveries in full and on time. That’s good business, at least as far as he’s concerned.”
“So how long do we have?” Boo asked.
“Well, knowing Grimsley, he’s probably testing the other cores as we speak—so we should probably be on the ship about five minutes ago.”
Leo took a second to process what Baz was saying. “Wait, so we’re leaving already? But you said—”
“I know what I said, kid. And you are more than welcome to hang out here and try to find some other ship to hitch a ride with. But the Icarus and its crew are leaving.”
Kat glared at Baz, drilling holes into him like an Aykarian excavator.
“What?”
“Seriously, Baz? We can’t just leave him here,” she said. “Look at him. He won’t last a day in this place.”
“I’m not the one who suggested feeding him to Snids,” Black countered.
“I was kidding. He’s just a kid. What’s he supposed to do?”
“Maybe not stowaway aboard my ship for starters.”
Leo’s eyes danced from Kat to the captain. He didn’t disagree with her—he probably wouldn’t last a day—but he also didn’t know why she was sticking up for him all of a sudden. She’d seemed plenty serious about blowing him out of the airlock earlier. A loaded look passed between the two pirates—a conversation somehow transmitted with chin juts and frowns. Finally Baz turned to Leo. “You can do whatever you want. Stay here, come with us. Your choice. But we are getting out of here. Now. End of debate.”
The captain continued his quick steps. Kat shook her head and followed, one ha
nd still resting on the butt of her pistol.
Leo looked up at Boo, who shrugged, all four palms turned upward. “Sometimes it’s better to sleep out in the rain than to risk going into the cave,” the Queleti said.
Leo’s finger felt for the hole in his shirt where his patch had been, touching the bare skin underneath. His hands were cold. This whole place was cold, as if the void of space managed to sneak its way through the hull of the ship somehow and worm its way inside him. Stay here in this unfamiliar place full of unfriendly faces and people like Grimsley or take his chance with the crew of the Icarus. It wasn’t an easy choice.
The rain sucked, sure. But you didn’t know what could be lurking in the cave. At least with Bastian Black, Leo knew what he was getting into. Sort of.
Leo nodded.
“C’mon then,” Boo said.
They caught up to Baz and Kat at the end of the corridor where it intersected with the main hall leading to the hangar bay. Kat was peeking around the corner. “We’re too late already,” she said. “Two sentries. Right by the hangar entrance. Same kind as the ones in Grimsley’s chamber.”
“So what’s the plan? How do we get to the ship?” Boo asked.
“Only two by the entrance,” Baz said, “but I’m guessing Grim’s got more inside. We start blasting now, they’ll close the hangar doors and lock us in before we can even get the ship powered up. Unless . . .” The captain grabbed the communicator from his jacket. “Skits. Are you there? Skits, come in.”
No reply.
“Skits. We’ve got a situation out here. Do you copy?”
Still silence. “She’s ignoring you,” Kat said.
“She’s not ignoring me.”
“She’s a robot. It’s not like she left her communicator on the bridge while she went to the bathroom, it’s part of her hardware. I keep telling you that you need to reprogram her. Her protocols are completely whacked. Whatever evolutionary algorithm you’ve got her programmed with is stuck in pouty teenager mode. Pretty soon she’s going to flip a switch, hijack the ship, and crash us into an asteroid just to make a point.”
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