Charley moved smoothly up the staircase, blasters extended. She felt like a badass and hoped she looked like one too. She made a mental note to upgrade her pathetic clothing situation as soon as she had funds. A pair of scantily clad women rushed past her down the stairs. Charley had no beef with them and let them escape.
The second storey of Boss Pete’s sanctuary. A garish shrine to decadence. Expensive paneling and provincial artwork. A soft, expansive futon and fully stocked bar with all manner of exotic bottles.
A three-stage spa network for cold, tepid and steaming hot.
Charley checked the huge room carefully, finding nothing but expensive knick-knacks. A box of Anfar cigars. An antiquated set of blasters set in a display case. A wall-length poster of Miss Kulin, a famous porn star. A number of sex toys were strewn across the floor. Rust-colored powder had been spilled on the white sheets. Charley had interrupted quite an orgy.
Just as Charley was about to climb the stairs to the third level, a bulbous, pale man rose from the soapy spa water like a walrus. He was brandishing M33 plasma blasters - they had more range and power than the M31s Silverton had passed on to Charley. For a moment Charley thought she was finished, but Boss Pete’s blasters misfired, causing the entire mechanism to rupture. The barrels exploded, sending shrapnel back into Boss Pete’s face and large gut.
“Suppose they’re not waterproof,” Charley offered dryly. She’d managed to spook Boss Pete into making a lethal mistake.
One of the benefits of a kamikaze run on a compound thought impregnable for many decades.
Boss Pete grunted in agony, his face pockmarked with bloody wounds. He let go of the useless blasters, letting them sink into the water. He looked at Charley with a mixture of anger and disbelief.
“Tell me what you want and you’ll have it,” he said.
Charley marched over to the garbage lord, her right blaster trained at his head.
“Give me the access codes to your speeder,” she said with forced calm.
Boss Pete smiled indulgently, perhaps sensing she wasn’t quite as confident as she looked.
“I must admit, I enjoy seeing this,” he murmured. “A young lass from the slums making a desperate play for power. Where did you get all that tech?”
Charley refused to answer that one.
“No matter,” Boss Pete said. “What matters is what I can do for you. Someone with your skills could advance quickly under me. As of today several positions have opened on my staff.”
He laughed, a shrill sound. His gut wobbled with mirth.
“I must also confide that seeing someone like you barge your way in here with so much energy and verve is exciting for an old man like me.”
Charley was sickened to see that Boss Pete had a podgy erection peeping through the water.
“Don’t take this personally,” she said. “But I can see further than fucking Sandflower Downs. One day I’ll have my own ship.”
Boss Pete’s eyes glittered.
“Good luck with that, girlie.”
Charley sent a bolt into the water, which quickly turned syrupy scarlet. Boss Pete’s body shuddered and a sweaty, meaty stench filled the air.
“I might be a girl, but I’m also a pirate,” she said softly. “Maybe.”
Charley left his corpse in the water. She had no idea what would happen to Sandflower Downs in the power vacuum and she didn’t care. Probably nothing would change. Some other bastard would assume control of the garbage transfer business and exploit the people of the shanty town like they always had been. There would still be a severe lack of resources, just enough to keep the strongest alive but nowhere near enough to allow anyone to escape the town and start fresh somewhere else.
It had taken a rare event for Charley to get the chance to make something of herself. She was determined to make it last as long as she could.
Forcing herself to stay vigilant, she ascended to the third level, wondering how the hell she was supposed to start Boss Pete’s speeder, which would no doubt be DNA activated.
The third level consisted of a number of smaller storage rooms. Charley would’ve liked to pillage them for valuable items but there really wasn’t much time. She guessed she would only have a half hour or so before scavengers from the town took advantage of the lack of security at the compound.
8
The room at the far end of the hall was shut. Charley kicked it open and found a bedroom replete with musical gear and a huge, spherical VR harness. A young man spun in the harness with a laser rifle, picking off enemies in the interactive game he was playing.
Charley deactivated the VR harness at the power supply. The boy slowed to a halt and removed his helmet.
“What the fuck …?”
“You Boss Pete’s son?” Charley asked.
“If you say so,” he muttered, climbing down and looking at Charley with wide eyes. “You from the slums?”
Charley looked away self-consciously. “Is it that obvious?”
“Nope,” came the earnest reply. “You’re too pretty for the slums. Wanna take a ride in Dad’s speeder?”
Charley realized that this kid was oblivious to all the violence that had taken place. He probably thought she was a call girl, in the villa for his father’s benefit. He probably also thought her blasters were role playing toys. She looked at him closely. He was eighteen or nineteen, no more. Fresh-faced and freckly. Tall and gangly in that awkward teen way. In short, only a year or two younger than she was. How could she exploit this situation? The boy had just offered her a ride. He probably had access to Boss Pete’s speeder. For this plan to work, she needed to lull the boy into a false sense of security. That would require something her body was aching for.
The pressure of battle had been intense. Charley’s body was flush with adrenalin and she needed release. Why not kill two birds with one stone?
Charley shut the door behind her with a grin.
“No offense, but your father is a bore,” she drawled. “I’d much rather spend the next few minutes here with you.”
The boy smiled, instantly hardening. “I’m Van,” he croaked.
“Nice to meet you, Van,” said Charley, feeling in complete control. She pushed him gently back against his futon and removed her shift, laying it down carefully so the pirate pellets wouldn’t roll anywhere. Her sword and pistols clattered to the floor also.
She clasped her hands together so her cleavage was emphasized. Van looked at her with hungry eyes, pulling his trousers over his stiff manhood. Charley stroked him with one hand and removed her bra with the other. She enjoyed the sensation. After a while she removed her panties and climbed on him. She was alive with the energy of battle and didn’t really care if he came or not. After a while she throbbed and shook uncontrollably, savoring the glorious moment of release. Then she threw her clothes on and grabbed Van’s hand.
“Let’s go for a joy ride,” she whispered. Van threw his trousers on, oblivious to the fact he hadn’t yet had his way. Charley dragged him out to the staircase, making sure he didn’t look too closely at the spa. Entranced with her presence, that wasn’t too hard at all. Charley kept Van engaged until they made it to the basement, where he keyed a code into the security door and lead her into the cool basement.
Boss Pete’s ride stood waiting for them. Van activated the engines and had the beast throbbing with anticipation as the front roller doors opened. Van guided the powerful vehicle out into the yard and stiffened when he saw the corpses. Charley gripped the overhead roll bar and kicked at the young man, sending him over the side door and out tumbling into the dust.
“Sorry, Van, but I’m flying solo,” she said, taking his place and pressing hard on the accelerator.
The speeder soared past the front gates and a gaggle of curious townies who would no doubt be scavenging the place by nightfall. She wondered what would become of Van. He’d probably be attacked and killed. If he was smart and could leverage his father’s bank account, he’d find a way to survive.
Charley didn’t really care either way - she was free from Sandflower Downs for the first time in her life and it felt incredible.
“Yes!” she screamed, as the speeder zoomed over the shimmering salt pan.
She was actually leaving!
It felt so amazing to finally be rid of the daily grind of her hometown. The constant pressure to raise credit for dinner had begun to wear Charley down. Who knew what she would’ve become had she not met Silverton?
She didn’t even mind the harsh sun on her back as she soared west over the flat pan. Her nav computer told her that Zeba was 434 miles to the west and lay flat in the middle of the Sarzor Salt Pan. As such, the trading hub was accessible from all directions. The only thing Charley had to watch out for was the odd granite mesa that towered over the inter-linked pans. Traveling over this terrain couldn’t have been any easier. Charley had to wonder how Silverton had contrived to hit a rock in his own speeder. Charley even took her hands off the steerage bar and luxuriated in her new freedom. She had forty credits in her pocket and a number of items to sell. What would she do with the money? The smart play was to sell one or two items and lay low for a while while she found a job that wasn’t hideous. If everything she’d heard about Zeba was correct, that might be a tough challenge.
Of course, the playgirl in her fantasized about settling into a leisure house for some serious pampering over a few days. There was nothing remotely like that in Sandflower Downs and this girl was overdue for some serious TLC!
But then a cold realization gripped her - she’d forgotten Silverton’s body! The old pirate was still back where she’d left him. Furious with herself, Charley assessed her options. Of course, she could continue on her way and simply start a new life in Zeba. Tempting, especially now she’d come all this way across the pan. On the other hand, Silverton did represent the only way she could get into his loot cache. Where she could loot gear that would improve her financial position even more. Allow her to invest a little capital in her own business in Zeba. That was super attractive. Charley was turning the speeder around in a tight arc before she knew what she was doing.
The trip back to Sandflower Downs was tense because Charley had no idea what to expect back at Silverton’s speeder. Would the body be there at all? Scavengers or desert crawlers might have gotten to it. She would need the body to prove that she had succession rights to Silverton’s name.
With immense relief she saw the corpse just where she left it. One or two gangers seemed to be loitering just out of town, watching the six ganger corpses Silverton had dropped earlier. Charley had no doubt those bodies had already been looted. Charley left her speeder running while she hefted Silverton into the back with great difficulty. With a grimace she realized how lucky she was that she hadn’t killed the propulsion bulb. Only Van’s DNA could now start this speeder. Which effectively made it useless once she shut it down in Zeba. She’d need to sell it on the black market to someone who could codejack the thing. That meant she needed to find alternative transport to the Dusty Mountains for Silverton’s loot cache. Damn, this was all getting too complicated.
With Silverton’s body secure, Charley gunned the prop bulb and was away at top speed within seconds. Her fuel reserves would hold until she reached Zeba. At least she had the right cargo now and could relax, although doubling back had taken some of the gloss off her escape.
9
The hours passed in shimmering monotony, the salt pan sliding by as if in a dream. The only way Charley knew she was traveling at all was the odd mesa that slowly passed by. At the three hour mark Charley’s neck grew stiff and she desperately needed a break. She stopped the speeder and let it run. Peeing on the salt pan, she grinned as she watched the liquid sizzle under the sun’s glare. There was a hazy black object in the distance which seemed to be getting closer. The object resolved into five smaller objects that wobbled and changed shape constantly. Frowning, Charley reached for the nocs she found in the central console. She enhanced by 150% and got a sharp shock.
The approaching objects were devil dogs, so-called for their jet black color. They were vicious desert attackers, desperate for meat and efficient in their predatory habits.
Charley slid into the driver’s seat and accelerated into a lazy circle, waiting for the dogs to arrive. The sudden movement of the speeder didn’t deter them - if anything they quickened their pace. A speeder’s exhaust could be choked using the flap toggle on the dashboard. Hoping she didn’t stall completely, Charley choked the bulb hard, then opened all cylinders suddenly. The leading dog was engulfed in a spear of flame that set it on fire. It was surreal to watch the burning dog as it hounded across the pan, slowing with every step. Two other dogs got the same fiery treatment. Charley lowered her targeting visor and made sure of the remaining dogs. Rumor had it that some of the local governors on Abeyas paid bounties for devil dog pelts. They had proved themselves to be a menace for garbage barges and water handlers alike.
Charley knew that Boss Pete often paid small bounties for corpses that some gangs were lucky enough to come across on the edge of town.
Sweating under the sun, Charley simply lopped the dogs’ heads with her saber and piled them into a Hessian sack. She figured the heads would be adequate replacements for pelts. Feeling incredibly good about her day’s work, Charley continued into the western sunset, eager to reach Zeba before nightfall.
The town was looming on her just as the sun had gone and left a pink horizon. The first building Charley saw was the huge, monstrous hull plating factory to the south east of Zeba itself. Raw minerals were mined in the Dusty Mountains and transported to the factory for shaping. This was the place that produced most of the toxic waste that was transported via garbage barge to Sandflower Downs. A large, droning barge actually passed close to Charley’s speeder as she cut close to the factory. She waved at one of the barge operators but received a rude gesture in return. Perhaps the company had received word on what had happened at the other end of the line. Maybe Van had already put a bounty on Charley’s head? It would probably help to lay low once in town. Charley gave the intimidating factory a wide berth. Even so, she marveled at the glimpse of huge towers of flame inside the cavernous building. Apparently the factory produced poor quality hullage for low level trader vessels and private speculators. Hardly one of the jewels in the Abeyas crown but it was relatively big business for the surrounding region. The governor of Zeba was a renowned germaphobe and insisted on spending extra credits on sending the toxic waste over to Charley’s feral home town.
An afternoon breeze licked at Charley’s blond hair as she approached the town limits. She entered an untidy district characterized by low slung prefab housing and dubious drinking holes. The center of the trading hub was awash with color and movement. Traders and entrepreneurs came from all over the region to buy and sell wares above and below the table. Since the collapse of the Empire the trade of illegal goods had flourished, allowing many to make their fortune in taboo items, including people. Charley slowed down and inched her way through the crowd, just happy to watch the exotic flow of people around her.
Right in the center of town the bustle of people was too great to move any further. Charley sighed and pulled into a plush-looking hotel. Well, as plush as any Zeba had to offer in any case. It was probably a clean, three star affair. Not bad for this part of the salt pans. Spacetown far to the east probably had a few five star hotels, but reaching that place seemed far beyond Charley’s means at that moment.
She killed the prop bulb, knowing she would no longer be able to use the speeder. The terrible smell in the back was the sack of dogs’ heads. Charley was disappointed to find that in the extreme heat they had all congealed into a bloody mess. She tossed the sack to the curb in disgust.
Gathering her equipment, she strolled into reception as if she did it every day. The truth was her heart was pounding with excitement. A girl could get use to this kind of life!
The concierge looked at Charley doubtfully.
“May I help you, Miss?”
“I’d like a room for the night, please. And a recommendation for spa treatment.”
Charley found herself saying the words before she could stop them. You only live once, right? She’d endured too much hardship to let her first night of freedom slip by with barely a ripple. Besides, she was hot, dusty, and in need of serious pampering.
The concierge looked at Silverton’s corpse with a frown. Oh, fuck …
“My uncle is passed out,” she said brightly. “Too much Borvian cognac this afternoon.”
“He can’t stay there,” the concierge said with a note of panic. Charley could just tell he saw her as a real problem. Which was probably true.
“I’ll be right back,” Charley promised, backing away from the front desk. She had to move and move fast. The first thing she did was grab Silverton’s body and sling it over her shoulder. Man, he was heavy. She wouldn’t be able to hold him for long. Plus, there was always the chance someone would spot his grievous wounds and take further interest.
Charley headed north along the sidewalk and was about to drop Silverton when a pestering street urchin gave her an idea. She flicked the gangly kid a credit bit and asked him to carry the body. The boy did as he was told, wrinkling his nose at the old pirate’s disgusting smell. Luckily he asked no questions.
“Take me to the nearest locker service,” Charley commanded, trying to sound like she was loaded with funds. Not so easy to do when all she had on was a simple linen shift that screamed ‘Sandflower Downs’.
Charley breathed easier when she saw the locker kiosk wasn’t far. She gave the street urchin another credit bit and lay Silverton against a wall of lockers. She paid five bits for three days and shoved Silverton into locker 435. She was terrified someone would see her but the kiosk frontage was mostly opaque to the street outside.
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