Shabin- The Reluctant Prince of Rhime

by Andrew Heister

  Jason gave an acknowledging grunt. “Fair enough. Can I go put some clothes on?”

  “Captain.” The word hung in the air a moment as she waited for his response.

  Confused by the reference, Jason asked, “What?”

  “Can I go put some clothes on, Captain?” She said it slowly.

  He blinked at her a few times. “If you think I’m—”

  She spoke over him. “You’re trying to hide, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you need to start acting like someone else. I’m still not sure I should let you go on Porter Station. Too many people in this system will recognize you.” Her head tilted. “You might fit into one of Tina’s dresses.”

  “No, thanks.” Now he was sure he was blushing.

  “Go.” She waved him away. “And it’s, no thank you, Captain.”

  He backed up and stepped on the foot of another woman — an unnatural rainbow of colors in her hair made it seem as if she were wearing plumage to attract a mate. She was shorter than him but still far taller than Sparrow.

  “Sorry, you must be Tina.” He continued trailing backward down the corridor.

  “Hello.” Her voice had a sing-songy character to it. “You must be our stowaway.” She waved using only her fingers. As he went back into the cabin, “He’s got nice legs,” echoed to his ears.

  An hour later, Sparrow escorted him along the shops inside Porter Station. Jason’s attention wandered from one marvel to the next like a tourist in the capital. Bright lights, flashy signs beckoning shoppers, entertainment venues — some of which were illegal down on Rhime — all drew him to sample things he’d never experienced. His father would’ve described the area as common, but Jason tried not to think of it that way. These were just normal people doing normal things with their normal lives. Some of it looked like fun.

  “Did that girl have a tail?” He jerked a thumb at the individual standing in a shop display, spinning the fuzzy thing in her hand. There were some planets where it was fashionable to have your body altered with animal traits, but he’d rarely seen one without a practical application.

  “Don’t point.” She pulled his hand down. “Yes. Stay away from anyone with a tail.”

  “Why?”

  She bit her lip and tugged him along. “Don’t worry about it.”

  He detected the faint hint of a blush on Sparrow. “Now you have me curious. Maybe I’ll go ask her.” He stopped and turned.

  “Don’t you dare.” She curled her arm around his. “You’re not going to draw attention to yourself in here.”

  “Some kind of pleasure worker?” He asked.

  Sparrow shook her head. “You should probably get some anonymous credit chips out of the bank. Your father will be able to trace you to here, but once we leave, you should stop using anything with your name on it.”

  The Intergalactic banking system was one of the few organizations larger than Shabin Industries. Credit accounts stretched from system to system through a dizzying array of computers. Encrypted chips were available and could be loaded with almost any form of currency in any denomination, assuming the planet in question was part of the exchange. His instruction on interplanetary economics had been exhaustive and boring.

  With theatrical grandeur, he stretched his free arm. “Lead on, Macduff.”

  “Who’s Macduff?”

  Jason rolled his eyes. “Never mind.”

  They wound their way through the crowd, passing vendors of everything someone would need during a long trip through space along with cheap trinkets from around the known universe. “Here.” She pulled him into a financial center. “Can you do this alone or do you need me to hold your hand?”

  Jason scratched his head and smirked. “I thought you said you’d stop making fun me. When it comes to finances, I think I’m way ahead of you.”

  Her eyes flicked away for a moment, and she let out a sigh. “You’re right. Sorry again. I’m going to see if I can find you an emergency environment suit. There’re a couple of spares on the ship, but since you’re so tall, they may not fit properly.” She pointed down the row of shops. “Jensen and Jensen Ship Supply is four stores down on the right. I have a few other things I want to buy, so I’ll meet you there when you get done.”

  He eyed her wearily. “You’re not planning on ditching me here, right?”

  Sparrow seemed to consider the idea. She pursed her lips. “No, I still work for the company. I don’t think I’d get away with doing that. This place is way too dangerous. With my luck, you’d end up dead and your father would blame me. Go get your money.”

  “Okay.”

  She examined him as she produced another bite to her lip. “A good suit is going to cost you about a thousand Shabin dollars.”

  “Okay.” He nodded, waiting for more.

  “And I’m not buying your food.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

  “And extra water and emergency oxygen would be a good idea.”

  He grinned. “Would you like me to buy you a pony?”

  She patted his chest. “Just get enough to take care of yourself. I can’t afford to pay for you with the little the company gives me.”

  “How about a kitten?”

  She shook her head, obviously not getting into the spirit of his banter. “No pets.”

  “Will do, Captain.” He gave her a mock salute and left her standing at the entrance.

  Eschewing the long lines meant for average customers, Jason walked to an office door marked Mr. Anders - Bank Manager. He lightly knocked, and the unlatched door opened. A woman quickly stood from the lap she’d been occupying. The man behind the desk froze for a moment. His dark hair was a little disheveled from whatever they’d been doing.

  He nervously licked his lips. “Can I help you?” It came out in a growl.

  “I’d like to make a withdrawal.”

  Mr. Anders grimaced. “You can make a withdrawal from the counter. If you need a person, go down to the last line.” He flipped the back of his hand at Jason in a dismissing wave.

  Jason bounced on his heels and grinned. “I think not.” He pointed to the picture on the wall of himself standing in front of the Shabin Bank headquarters.

  Mr. Anders snapped his attention between Jason and the picture more than a few times, his eyes crinkling more with each second. “I think I’ll need to see some ID.” There was an extended pause before he added, “My Prince.” It came out in a squeak.

  “May I?” Jason pointed to the palm scanner on the desk but didn’t bother waiting for a reply.

  Twenty minutes later, Jason left a very anxious Mr. Anders still bowing and scraping as he escorted him to the exit while profusely apologizing for everything, from the way he walked in on the man to the stale cookies he offered. He had to practically peel the manager off of him, assuring him the whole time that he didn’t need a security guard to follow him to his yacht. The pocket full of bearer credit chips clinked together as he made his way to the ship’s supply store.

  Feeling clever and a bit smug, he stashed the one with the most in his sock while the rest he dispersed throughout several pockets. Sparrow had told him this station could be dangerous, and he didn’t want to get robbed.

  A tinkling chime went off as he entered the store. Long rows of shelves held a bewildering assortment of products all neatly organized into various categories. Tools down one row, entertainment down another. The next had stacks of fluid for every imaginable part of a ship. If you needed something greased, fortified, or cleaned, this was the place to buy it. He chose an aisle at random and looked for Sparrow.

  “Can we help you?”

  Spinning around, Jason jerked back in surprise. A man or woman — or both — stood in front him, hands grasped together and a wide smile on its faces. Two faces to be precise, and two heads. “I… Umm.”

  “He’s with me,” a voice called from behind.

  “Oh. You must be Sparrow’s friend,” the head on the right said.
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  “We have an environment suit picked out for you if you’d like to try it on,” spoke the left. He or she — or it — gestured toward a dressing room.

  “Umm… Thank you.”

  Sparrow bumped into him and pulled him along. She whispered, “Stop staring. Come on.”

  “Who was that?” he whispered back.

  She dragged him into the dressing room. “That’s Jensen and Jensen. Here.” She handed him the bottom half of the suit. “Try this on.”

  The stiff fabric had an odd greasy feel. “Don’t they have an automated laser tailor?”

  She shushed him with her fingers. “Don’t mention that.” She glanced out of the dressing room. “They get insulted. Jensen and Jensen have an unusual level of pride in their skills.” She let out a little giggle. “At least they act that way if you mention it. Personally, I think they’re just too cheap to buy the system.”

  He waited for her to leave, but she just stood in front of him, hands-on-hips. “I’m not taking my pants off in front of you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a—” She cut herself off. “I’m not asking you to hook up all the plumbing. Just try it on over your clothes.”

  “Oh.” He stepped into the pants and pulled them up. Or almost up.

  “God, how tall are you?”

  “Almost two meters.”

  She pulled back the curtain and called out, “Hey, Rita. Bring me a set about three centimeters longer.”

  Jensen and Jensen came a minute later with another suit. It took them a few tries to get a decent fit. His height, combined with a youthful narrowness, made it difficult but fortunately not impossible. The speedy alteration might even have been good enough to impress his father.

  “Where can we get the food and other supplies?” Jason asked.

  “The water and oxygen we can get here.” Sparrow’s mouth tightened, and her eyes tracked Jensen and Jensen as it walked away. She leaned in and added in a lower voice. “I wouldn’t buy the food here. They only keep cheap vacuum-packed emergency rations.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Let’s settle up and move to the next place.”

  At the checkout, Sparrow asked for the extra water and oxygen to be added to the order. “Could you have all of this delivered to our ship.”

  “Certainly, love.” Both faces smiled. One of them had more masculine qualities and the other more feminine. Jason tried to keep himself from evaluating the body. He didn’t want to know the details.

  “We’re docked at eighty-four B.”

  Jason pulled out his smallest credit chip and ran it through, adding a tip out of habit. “Thank you.”

  After looking at the screen, Jensen and Jensen let out an excited, “Thank you, sir!” It came out in stereo.

  Sparrow led him out of the door, and they left with the proprietors exclaiming several more thank you’s along with a few please come back anytime’s.

  The crowd seemed to have thinned out since the start of their shopping, and they quickly strode through the concourse looking for better food. Jason asked, “What’s the kitchen like on the ship?”

  “Galley. It’s called a galley, and it’s not much. Why?”

  “Are we stuck with ready-to-eat things or can I cook?”

  She looked up at him with a wry grin. Her beautiful eyes burrowed into him. “I don’t know. Can you cook?”

  “That depends on what equipment you have on board.” As much as it tweaked his father, Jason loved spending time in the kitchen. Thinking about the time his father caught one of the cooks teaching Jason how to decorate a cake made him inwardly smile. When he remembered his current situation, darker thoughts broke in. Why was it the cheerful moments in life were always fleeting while misery lingered?

  Sparrow stopped his reminiscences. “I suppose you can prepare most things in there. We have all the basics. Just try not to make anything too stinky. We don’t have the best air circulation.”

  Stopping in front of another shop, she gestured to the door. “Here you go. Joe’s Storehouse.”

  From the way it looked through the window, Jason doubted the quality. Sloppy racks of prepackaged meals meant for reheating lined the dingy store. “Isn’t there anything a little more upscale?” He was willing to rough it, but this seemed a little extreme.

  She pursed her lips. “You know, food on a space station costs a fortune. You’re already going to be spending twice as much than if you bought it back on Rhime.”

  Jason shrugged and pointed to another store on the opposite side and few down from them. “How about that place?”

  “I’ve never bought anything from them. It’s for—” She bit her lip. “Never mind. It’s probably perfect for you.”

  The blinking Zagara’s Emporium sign was a bit tacky, but when they entered the store, fresh garlic and other smells overwhelmed his senses. “How much should I get?”

  “Hmm… Get enough for a few weeks. It’s more than you’ll need, but we have the room and it’s always good to keep extra.” She picked up a can of stuffed olives and turned it in her hand. “These prices are crazy.”

  “I love those.” He grabbed the can and added it to his quickly filling cart. “Do they have fresh meat in this place?”

  Her eyes drew down. “Are you nuts?”

  “Oh, nuts. Yes, let’s grab some of those.” A few packs of gribnuts and cashews went into the cart.

  “You like this stuff?” She held up a vacuum pack filled with smoked salmon.

  “Never had it. I’m not a big fan of fish.”

  She tossed it back into the cooler with a frown. “There’s probably chicken and other meats in the back. They won’t be fresh, but this is the sort of place that has the real stuff.”

  “Okay.” He pulled down a case of soup and added it to the mix. Jumping onto the bottom rail of the cart, he rode it down the aisle.

  “What are you, eight?”

  “Nine,” he shouted back. “Relax.”

  They made it to the cash registers a few minutes later with enough food to feed the whole crew for more than a month. Sparrow had complained about the cost of every item he tossed onto the pile. “Will they deliver all this stuff to the ship?”

  “Sure. All the stores are used to this type of shopping.” She seemed distracted by something outside of the store.

  “Something wrong?”

  She absently shook her head. “No. Just something strange.”

  An elderly woman quickly scanned his items and took their ship information for the delivery. Jason swiped his credit chip and added a tip.

  The woman said, “Sir, I think you may have hit an extra zero on this tip. Let me clear it, and you can try again.”

  “Tip?” Sparrow said with eyes raised questioningly.

  Jason leaned over the counter. “No, that’s correct.”

  Sparrow lifted herself with muscular arms to see the screen. “God,” she yelped. “Are you crazy?”

  “What?”

  “You’re going to run out of cash in a couple of days if you keep spending that way. What is that, forty percent?”

  “Fifty.” He grinned. “My dad always taught me to tip everyone. I like to piss him off by going overboard.”

  Sparrow’s eyes widened. “Did you give Jensen and Jensen fifty percent?”

  “Of course not.”

  She let out a relieved breath.

  “They helped customize a suit for me. I gave them double.”

  Sparrow slapped a hand to her forehead. “We’re screwed.” She lifted on tiptoes and checked out the windows again.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I thought we were being followed. Now I’m certain, and I know why.” She thrust a finger into his chest and snarled, “I’m walking around with an idiot.” She addressed the cashier. “Do you have a back door? We can follow your delivery person to the ship.”

  “Michael and Lester are out on a delivery right now, but you’re welcome to go out the back.” She pointed to a door marked employees only.
“Go through there and make a right. It’ll be the second door on the left.”

  Sparrow pulled him along. Her force was a lot more than he expected from such a small body. “What’s going on?”

  “I warned you this place could be dangerous.” She flung open the back door and pushed him through. They wound their way through a few crates of supplies, and she quickly passed him as she hit the next set of doors.

  “Someone is chasing us because I tipped?”

  The empty service corridor came to a split. They turned toward the direction of B dock and jogged. “I told you to blend in. Throwing money around like that attracts the wrong sort of attention.” The squeak of shoes running behind them pressed them to go faster. “Shit.”

  “Shouldn’t we go back out to where all the people are? Running through back hallways seems a little stupid.” He turned his head as they rounded the next corner. Whoever was back there was too far away to see clearly, but there were two of them closing the gap.

  “That depends on who’s doing the chasing,” she puffed out as she sprinted. She yelled into the phone attached to her wrist. “Sparky!”

  Jason ran slower than he was able to in order to keep himself from leaving her behind. “Who would tell them about the tip?”

  “Shut up,” she growled.

  “Sparrow?” Sparky’s voice came through the phone.

  “Are you both back in the ship?”

  “Ya.”

  “We’re coming in fast, and I think we’re bringing company.” She hit the latch on the next set of doors and bolted through. The clomping footsteps behind them were closer now. Sparky went back to speaking gibberish. “I’m not sure,” she responded. “It might be Jensen and Jensen’s people.” Then she added to Jason, “or worse.” She pulled hard on his hand and led him up a set of stairs.

  Sparky let out a laugh. “Not problem. I ready.”

  They shot down another corridor. “Don’t you have your nervion with you?”

  Sparrow was breathing hard and having trouble speaking. “No… illegal … on… station.”