by David Ryker
“Alice,” I said quietly, stopping short of the door.
“What?” she said, turning to me.
I reached out before she could do anything and put my hand around the nape of her neck. My other found her cheek and I pushed my face toward hers. Our foreheads touched for just a second before she gripped my wrist and twisted hard.
I felt my ribs twinge as my body crooked at a weird angle and I stared up at her raised fist, clenched and hanging over my head, ready to whack me in the face. Her nostrils flared and she curled her mouth into a cruel grimace. She ground her teeth and then shook her head, throwing my wrist back to me and dropping her hand. Her eyes met mine for a few seconds and then she looked away and walked toward the door. She didn’t say anything, but the message was pretty clear. Whether she thought I was trying to kiss her or not, I wasn’t sure — but either way, she didn’t like it.
I breathed a sigh of relief that I didn’t get punched, and then straightened my coat, making sure it covered the grip of my Arcram.
I headed after her, helping heave the door aside. It was too big to do alone — a steel thing on rollers that creaked open and then clanged shut behind us. It must have weighed a ton, but she didn’t look at me or say anything as we did.
Inside was a porch-like airlock, sectioned off from the bar by a set of swinging doors. We hefted one of them open and slipped in through the gap.
A bar that wasn’t designed for humans is a weird thing. We were on a raised platform that ran around the outside walls — on it were tables and chairs designed for humanoids. Across the far wall were booths, and a round section of bar met each side of the raised platform, dropping down on the other side a good four meters to the ground so the bartender, who was a Wint, could serve comfortably. They were large hair-covered things with huge heads and noses like elephant seals. It just so happened this one was wearing a long smock and an apron. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a stranger sight.
I looked at Alice and then dipped my head toward the side of the room that didn’t have the booths. We circled on the platform, keeping our eyes down and away from the massive creatures moving around below us. It wasn’t unlike a humanoid bar in the layout and function; it was just inhabited by much larger creatures. If we went down there, we’d not even be able to leap and grab the bar-top. Telmareen was a mixed bag of species, though it seemed they were used to accommodating humanoids — they did make up forty percent of the population, after all, whether they’d come first or not.
The side of the room we’d stuck to was empty except for us. On the other side, there were a few groups of humanoids occupying the booths and standing and talking over the drone of the electronic music playing.
We approached the bar and pulled up two stools, neither of us wanting to call the bartender over, just in case he decided to squash us. It turned out he was actually pretty friendly and came over with the equivalent of a smile on his face. “Welcome,” he said, his modulated speech ringing inside my ear. “What can I get you?”
“Two beers,” I said holding fingers up.
“I’ll have water,” Alice added.
The Wint looked at me, and then her, and then back. “Alright — a beer, and a water for the lady.” He carefully reached under the bar, over which we could just see the tops of his shoulders and head, though they were as tall on their own as we were. He produced two metal cups that looked tiny in his big hands, which were actually the size of steins. I guessed that no glass was offered to humans as they’d shatter in his grip. I didn’t question it, though.
He turned on a faucet the size of a hydrant and filled Alice’s cup before teasing open a normal-sized fridge with two fingers and pulling out a bottle like he was threading a needle. He placed it on the counter for us.
“Credit okay?” I asked, rolling up my sleeve.
“Sure.” He pulled a scanner out of the pouch on his apron and held it over the bar. I twisted my arm over to show the barcode there and the scanner took the credit out of my account. I stared at the beer for a second and wondered how much it’d cost me. I didn’t know how much anything cost on Telmareen. I shook it off — I could recoup it later.
“So,” I said nonchalantly as the bartender walked away.
Alice rolled her eyes. “Really?” She didn’t look at me as she spoke. “We’re just going to pretend like that didn’t just happen?” Her voice was like ice.
I took a sheepish swig from the beer and cleared my throat, eyeing the room from our perch, hoping my silence would be enough of an answer. The species below seemed to be doing a universal after-work thing — hanging out and drinking a couple of beers. They all looked like they’d come from nearby factories, and were either dirtied with grease, or wearing protective gear that they couldn’t be bothered to take off. Nothing out of the ordinary. I took another swig.
“This is stupid,” Alice muttered, pulling her huge cup of water toward her.
“Well, I mean if it was any smaller it would be practically impossible for him to pick up.”
“I don’t mean the cup, idiot. I mean being here.” She gestured around. “We’re not going to find anything. We should just leave and meet up with Mac and Fish.”
“We just got here. You think people are going to be selling Iskcara in the middle of the day?”
“I don’t think people are going to be selling Iskcara in a bar at all,” she grumbled.
I bit my lip and waved my hand at the bartender. “Hey,” I called as politely as I could. I wasn’t really sure if it was a he or a she, or if that was how gender even worked for Wints, so I didn’t want to assume.
“Is something wrong with your drink?” he asked as he approached, the voice oddly human in my ear. The chip was working wonders.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I smiled. “Just wanted to ask you something. We don’t get to Telmareen much,” I started, nodding to Alice.
She closed her eyes, obviously resisting the urge to push back from the bar and leave.
“I couldn’t tell,” the Wint said. I wasn’t sure if it was a joke or not, so I ignored it.
“And there’s no denying what we are, right?” I grinned and dipped my shoulder, so he couldn’t miss the mercenary patch there.
“Hey, I don’t judge — we get all sorts.”
“Right, that’s what I figured. We just follow the trail of credits. And we heard some whispers,” I said casually, “that there’s some work around this part of Telmareen for a couple of ambitious mercs who don’t hold the Federation in the highest regard.” I dropped a couple of decibels. “In fact, we’re kind of taking a risk even being here, if you know what I mean.” I winked at the Wint, hoping that the gesture was universal enough for him to get it.
“Do I?” he said back.
“Look, man, I don’t want to get you into any trouble here. I’m just saying that we’re looking for some work, and we don’t much mind what kind — we’ve got a good crew, and some heavy-duty steel, should the work require that sort of thing.”
I could hear Alice muttering under her breath. “Jesus Christ.”
The Wint stared at me for a few seconds. “And what makes you think I know anything about any work?”
“I’m not saying you do. Just thinking that people like to talk when they’ve had a couple of drinks. Just asking, friend to friend, if you’ve heard anything?”
“About what?”
“About stolen Iskcara,” I said flatly.
He looked at me dead-eyed for a long time. I measured his gaze and returned it as stonily as I could. “You two look a little young to be mercs,” he said in a low voice, eyes narrowed.
I shrugged. “Yeah? Well, the Federation’s no goddamn picnic. We got out of that firing line as quickly as we could. Soon as our boots hit the ground on our first deployment,” I spat, moving my hand through the air like a ship, “we turned and made for the hills.”
“So you’re Free, then?” He cocked his head a little.
“We’re not anything, except looking
for work,” I retorted, putting a little bite in the words.
He smirked after a few seconds. “There such a thing as tipping where you come from?”
I let myself smile. “Sure. And I’ll take another beer.” I rolled up my sleeve and offered him my arm. He pulled the scanner back out and fiddled with it a little. He turned it over for me to see and I almost choked when I saw the figure on the screen.
“How much is it worth to you?” he asked.
I could see Alice was watching me intently, but I didn’t dare break from the bartender.
I brushed it off like the amount was nothing. “That works.” I was just praying that Volchec was listening and that she was already in the process of extending me an open line of credit. If she wasn’t, then I was about to fail miserably and give the game away.
I dropped my arm onto the bar and let him scan my barcode again. The machine beeped and he turned his lip down, nodding. “Alright then.” He laughed a little. “I honestly didn’t think you were good for it.”
“Like I said, we came to play, and we don’t fuck around with kids’ stuff. Now then, you were saying?”
He leaned forward on the bar, his huge wooly knuckles, each as wide as my whole arm, resting on the tarnished metal. He looked at both of us and then slowly turned his head, eyes flitting toward the other side of the room. “See those guys, second booth from the left?”
I looked over. There were three people in the booth. A Polgarian — a mean-looking son-of-a-bitch with dark skin and ridges on his head that made Jonas look like a pussycat. A droid — pretty old model by the looks of it — but not one of your run-of-the-mill clerk-droids. No, this looked like a fully functional battle-droid, not unlike the lieutenant general we’d run into on the space station. It had a square head with a couple of camera lenses and antennae sticking up. And then lastly was a humanoid woman, but her skin was pale blue. She had humanoid features, but her eyes were dark. I couldn’t really make them out from here, but I would have said she was a half-breed. Half human, half something else. She was wearing a hood, too, that covered her head. They were all dressed a little strangely, in fact — a navy-colored theme seemed to be going on. She was in a hooded jacket, and the Polgarian was in a high-collared coat. Even the droid had a shawl over its shoulders.
The Polgarian and the humanoid were nursing their drinks and not talking. The droid was facing the door and was unmoving — looked like they were waiting for something, or someone.
“Mercs?” I said in a low voice, looking back to the bartender.
He shrugged. “Dunno. Probably. They’ve been in here a bunch of times in the last few weeks. They come in, drink for a while — someone else comes in, meets them, and they leave together.”
“Same person?”
“Different each time.”
“Humanoids?”
He nodded. “Yeah, they keep it low-key, but yeah. I’m not watching them, but I see things.”
“Any mention of Iskcara?”
“I haven’t asked. But I know what’s going on in the city. It’s common knowledge — everyone’s talking about it. Federation don’t like being stolen from — puts everyone on edge, you know? The people here like to keep the status quo intact. They don’t like it when the boat rocks.” He shrugged again. “I’m not saying they have anything to do with it, but the rumors start, and then these guys show up. They’re not from around here, and we’re in the right part of the city.” He turned away. “I’m not saying it’s something…”
“But you’re not saying it’s nothing, either.” I nodded. “Gotcha.”
“But you didn’t hear it from me, okay?” he said, suddenly grave.
“Didn’t hear what from you?” I leaned back, smiling in thanks.
He chuckled. “Exactly, kid.” He crossed to the big bar below and started serving a huge lizard-looking thing.
I sighed, feeling my heart hammering against my ribs, and turned to Alice.
She was glaring at me, jaw locked. “You’re unbelievable.” She was furious. I could see it in her eyes.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn’t meant as one.”
I sucked on my beer as Alice turned away on the stool, touching her hand to the back of her ear. “Volchec, you catch all of that?”
“Loud and clear.”
“You want us to go meet Mac and Fish?” she asked, the tone in her voice suggesting that was exactly what she wanted to do. Was being stuck here with me that bad?
I thought that maybe now wasn’t the best time to tell her that my little stunt outside had established a neural link between our chips, and that if she wanted, she could beam messages straight to me without speaking. That’s what I’d had Greg explain to me on the trip over. When they’d first implanted me, the droid had mentioned being able to neurally link with other chips. I just didn’t think it’d be as easy as to focus on interfacing with another one and then putting them in close proximity. Greg said around ten centimeters would do, and it had. I just wondered how hard she was going to sock me when she found out. I swallowed and tried to keep my mind on the task at hand.
“No,” Volchec said after a second. “You stay there, wait to see if anything else happens, but don’t expect MacAlister and Sesstis to turn up any time soon. They’re following up on another lead. The garage had been stripped clean. Someone had come in and torn everything out of there. They’re doing some recon, asking around to see if they can find out if anyone knew anything about what was in there, or who might have cleaned it out. They’re tied up and might be for a while, so I wouldn’t hold my breath. Sounds like what you guys are on to could be promising though, so keep your eyes peeled.”
She clicked off and Alice slowly pulled herself back around to the bar. She toggled her comm off so she wasn’t broadcasting, and then swore.
I cut mine off too and squeezed my tongue between my lips, scrabbling for the right words, before realizing that there weren’t any right ones. “Kepler, I want to say something, and I’d be grateful if you just heard me out, okay?”
I didn’t look up and she didn't make any noise. I just became aware that she’d leaned forward and put her chin on her folded arms on the bartop.
“I acted like an ass,” I started, trying to itemize the things I wanted to say in my head, from beginning to end. “From the first time we met, I acted like an ass — back on the Falmouth. I never chose to be there, never wanted to, and I was angry. I was a pissed-off kid, and hell, I still am. I’m nineteen, Alice. I’ve never known anything except dirt and what it feels like to get my face rubbed in it. I’ve just been trying to keep my head above water, I guess, and along the way, never really stopped to think about anyone else. I’ve never had friends. Never had anyone I cared about, or that cared about me. I think what I’m trying to say is that I’ve realized I’m not good with people — with reading them, or gauging them. I’ve only ever had to look out for myself, and it’s taking some adjustment—”
“Red,” she cut in, tone flat.
“No, Alice, let me finish. I want to get this out while I can. I was insensitive about the Falmouth. I didn’t even think that—”
“Red,” she hissed this time.
“Alice, I’m serious—”
“Look up.”
I did, and honed in on exactly what she was looking at. The three mercs in the booth across the room were staring at us. The camera lens on the droid was adjusting and turning as it zoomed in. I sat upright and stared at it. “Stay cool.”
“Stay cool?” Alice muttered out of the corner of her mouth. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means don’t panic.”
“I’m not panicking,” she said quietly.
“I was talking to myself.”
13
The Polgarian slid out of the booth with a casual ease and strode toward the raised bar on their side of the room. He leaned on it and pulled a napkin toward himself, staring at us all the while, and took a pen out
of the inside of his coat.
He scribbled something on it, and then pushed it away, snapping his fingers at the Wint. The hairy creature sidled over and leaned in, nodding as the Polgarian spoke.
I turned my head as if I was saying something to Alice. “Greg, come in.”
“I’m here, James,” he said back in my ear.
“Can you pick up any chatter in here? Specifically a guy at the bar about twenty meters dead ahead of us.”
“No, James, many of the species are too large and the thick walls make it difficult to extract any clear audio,” he said with a hint of remorse.
“Shit. Alright, thanks.” The words hadn’t left my mouth before the Polgarian pushed back from the bar and headed to his table. The Wint walked over, napkin in hand, and dropped it on the bar in front of us.
“Looks like not much gets past them,” he said quietly. “Seems you caught their eye as much as they did yours.”
Alice and I both leaned in to look at it. The napkin had a circle with a diagonal slash through it — the universal mercenaries sign — and under it was a figure preceded by the Federation Credits symbol — and it was a big figure. After it was a question mark.
I looked from it to Alice, and then up at the table across the room. They were all staring at us intently. “I think they want us to go over,” I muttered to her.
“Gee, you think?” she said bitingly.
“Well, we have to. They’re offering us work, by the looks of it.” I looked down at the napkin as casually as I could and reached for my beer, keeping up appearances. “Well paid work,” I added. I’d never seen so many credits, scribbled on a bar napkin, or otherwise.
“So what do we do, go over there, see if they’re the ones selling the Iskcara, and then pull our guns?” she mumbled, turning toward me so she had her back to them.
I shrugged to make it look like we were just mulling things over. “We do that, and I think they’ll plug us without a second thought. And plus, I doubt they’re the ones running the operation. Three mercenaries? Nah, they’ve got connections — someone’s hired them to come on as muscle, be the middlemen for the deals — maybe escort the Iskcara. It’s all guesswork until we go over there.”