by Gini Koch
“Not only are you my family, my responsibility, and part of my crew, but we’re the last of our line,” Roy snapped. “I promised to always protect you. If something happens to me, you’re the only hope we have.”
I could see the old argument forming. From the first day I’d met them, Roy and Kyle had argued about their true responsibilities—to each other, to Mars, to the galaxy. Roy, despite his protestations to the contrary, was truly a traditionalist. Kyle wasn’t.
“We don’t have time for the trusty ‘the blood of the true rulers of Mars runs through our veins’ speech, Roy. Besides, Kyle, like the rest of us, has it memorized.”
“If I’m our only hope, then maybe I should be better trained.”
Kyle was trying a new tactic. Must have been from spending time in the kitchens with Tresia. Arachnidans were good with coming up with alternate ideas. She said this was because if someone said “on the other hand” a lot more options opened up when you had eight as opposed to two.
I was impressed, however the new ploy wasn’t working on Roy. “You’re trained. You also don’t need to be in any extra danger, just for the thrill of it all.”
“I’d argue—or at least let Kyle keep on arguing—because I’ve missed this for the past three months, but we need to get moving. Don’t worry, Kyle. It took years for your big brother to let me do things without his worrying.”
Kyle snorted. “DeeDee, didn’t I tell you what he was like while you were…on assignment? He’s like that from the moment you’re out of his reach until the moment you’re back.”
Roy looked embarrassed and worried, but at least the potential argument seemed averted. “Fine, whatever. I still think this is a really bad idea.”
“I don’t. I spent three months with them. And that was my fourth visit. I understand how the Royal Family thinks.”
“But if we do what you want,” Roy protested, “then we’ll screw up their payouts, too.” That the Royal Family had retainers placing the same bets we did was a no-brainer guess.
“You worry too much.”
We left the ship and went through the same robotic docking check as before. I’d shifted to look like a Polliwog while Roy and Kyle were arguing, so it appeared we were still a team of two Earthers and one big, walking toad.
The robot passed us through, and we headed for our final destination. We reached the Jewel in a few minutes, during which time I had to resist the strong urge to catch and eat every flying insect around. Roulette had a good share of them, too. But most Polliwogs “ate” in private when they were off their own world. Besides, regardless of form, I found insects to be unpleasant coming in, going down, and coming out.
We went inside, and I stepped into the first bathroom we came to.
Bathrooms weren’t allowed to have surveillance in them, for a variety of reasons, all related to personal privacy. That daintiness didn’t apply to exits and entrances, so I took care to be in a stall that didn’t provide a clear shot from the door. I shifted again, then hung out for a while, until another Polliwog came in.
Fortunately, they liked to gamble and their home world was close by. I saw some webbed feet in the next stall, and I exited, looking human. I checked in the mirror. I was back to being Princess Olivia, with a few key differences.
I glided out of the bathroom and headed for the betting cages. No one appeared to take an interest in me, possibly because I still had the cloak on and the hood up. I didn’t want to draw a crowd until I had our money in my hands, so I waited to take the hood off until I reached the head of the line at the payout cage. Like most of the other casinos, the line was long.
Bettor’s ticket passed through, no reaction from the Arachnidan behind the counter. Oh well, I’d planned for that. I counted the payout. Exact, no issues. I turned and left the cage.
The Jewel was the biggest and busiest casino on Roulette. I preferred the Palace, but I was biased toward owners I didn’t loathe. The Diamante Families did casinos right, though.
The Jewel glittered. Every surface the decorators could put something shiny and reflective on was so adorned. It wasn’t the kind of look anyone should have in their home, but for a place that carried the tagline of “You’ll Go Home Be-Jeweled” it worked.
It was one of the more crowded casinos, not just in terms of beings inside, but in terms of available floor space. The only areas with plenty of room around them were the cashiers’ cages. There wasn’t a lot of flash around these cages, either.
I wasn’t sure if this was to discourage gamblers from cashing out, or because the flashiness would distract from the surveillance focused on the money. I bet on them both, but I was cautious that way.
Kyle raced up to me, looking excited. “Oh my Gods!” he shouted. “You’re that dead princess!”
The sounds around us changed a little. Not everyone had stopped gambling, talking, or drinking, but some had, because the noise level went down.
“Uh, no. No I’m not.” I ensured I blushed. I also kept my voice at its lowest natural level.
“You are! Everyone thinks she’s dead, but you’re right here!” Kyle was effectively drawing a crowd. Beings of all kinds surrounded us. Their expressions ranged from mildly interested to excited curiosity. Most were clutching gaming chips, some were smoking their plant of choice, many had drinks in what were or passed for their hands.
“I’m not her,” I muttered, but loudly enough to be heard by those nearby. I tried to shove through the rapidly forming crowd, but others were now insisting I was indeed Princess Olivia.
Kyle had “stopped” me right under a bank of holoscreens, all of which were blaring different planets’ takes on the Princess Olivia story. There were a variety of fingers, claws, and other appendages pointing back and forth between me and the screens.
Security took an interest, along with some men in dark suits who looked like they routinely gave the go-ahead to kill puppies while ordering their breakfasts. Diamante Families enforcers, for certain.
“Come with us please, miss,” one of them said as he took my hand in a strong grip.
“No, I’m not that princess.” I tried to pull away, then looked down. “I get that a lot, though.”
“Right.” The man holding me clearly wasn’t buying this. I looked around—the other enforcers weren’t buying, either. “Let’s go. You’ve lucked into an all-expense paid trip to Andromeda.”
I sighed dramatically. “You’re making a mistake.” I said this as loudly as I felt I could safely get away with and not make the enforcers suspicious in the wrong ways.
Some of my audience seemed to agree with me. Most didn’t.
“She’s here! Princess Olivia is really alive,” Kyle shouted from the back of the crowd. “Glad I got my money already!”
He was really doing a great job of inciting to riot; there was a nasty vibe coming from the crowd. The smokers were puffing more strongly and quickly, drinks were being sloshed about, and the sounds were all along the “I want my money anyway” lines.
“Come on,” the enforcer said, giving me a little shake. I flipped my hair around more than his shake warranted.
“No! This is a case of mistaken identity!”
“Sure it is,” someone shouted. Not Kyle this time. “C’mon, Princess. Tell us how you fooled everyone. Everyone but us.” The crowd was fully into the show and needed no further prodding. Everyone I could see and hear murmured their agreement.
“I can prove it,” I said. I made sure my voice carried to the back of the crowd. I looked around at the crowd. “You want the proof I’m not that princess?” Everyone indicated they did, some loudly.
“Fine,” the enforcer said, clearly humoring me. “Prove it.”
“Ah, we need to be in private.”
He laughed the kind of laugh that has no humor in it but does have the risk of imminent pain behind it. I’d heard laughs like this before. Nine times out of ten, they were coming from someone on the Diamante Families payroll.
“You’ll be ha
ppier,” I told him.
“Sure I will be. You’ll prove it here. Now. Or we’re going to the spaceport.” The crowd backed him and demanded the proof, too. There were some news crews shoving toward the front.
I looked around, giving the news teams time to get into position. “Okay. You asked for it.” I took off the cloak and let it drop to the floor. I wasn’t in a dress or a fight suit. I was in pants and a blouse. “Really, you’re sure?”
Why not ask one last time, for dramatic effect?
“Now,” the biggest enforcer growled. My appreciative audience, which no longer included Kyle, but absolutely included a variety of holographics aimed at me, made noises of agreement.
“Okay.” I smiled for the cameras and dropped trou.
We headed for open space. Sometimes it was nice not to have an official destination. Once we’d jumped in and out of hyperspace a few times to ensure we had no clear trail to follow, Roy and I left Doven and Ciarissa in the cockpit and headed to the galley.
Bullfrog and Dr. Wufren were counting the money again while Kyle, Tresia, and Willy watched. “I don’t like to take paper cash, but I suppose planetary bonds are acceptable,” Dr. Wufren said.
I shrugged. “I didn’t want to take any more time than I had to.”
Bullfrog chuckled. “You spent your time well. The payoff from the Jewel to keep you from taking your humiliation to all the news media who weren’t already on site doubled our take from all our other payouts combined.”
“Good payday or not, let’s not do that again,” Roy muttered. “I don’t like you exposing yourself for all the worlds to see.”
“That wasn’t exactly ‘myself,’” I reminded him.
“True enough,” Kyle said with a snicker. “But I think Roy wishes you’d used another model.”
“Hey, I wanted to look impressive.” Crowd reaction to my “exposure” had imitated my reaction to seeing Roy naked pretty accurately—gasping and drooling. “Besides, you should have seen the looks on the goons’ faces. There was a lot of crushing envy in there, right after complete embarrassment.”
Roy blushed, which was something of a rarity. “Can we stop talking about it?”
Ciarissa’s voice came through the intercom. “We’ve received a very encrypted message that bounced through several planetary systems to reach us, Captain.”
“Read away, Ciarissa.”
She cleared her throat. “Congratulations and many thanks. As always, it’s a pleasure doing business with you. Please accept this bonus for going above and beyond the scope of our agreement to ensure our continued safety and longevity.”
“Signed by?” Roy asked.
“No signature, Captain. The bonus is a set of Royal Absolutions, good for use on any planet in the galaxy. A dozen, to be exact. They are registered with our private account on Espen.”
We were all silent. To paraphrase an ancient saying, this gift was a price above rubies. And diamonds. And even planetary bonds.
Roy finally broke the silence. “Think King Oliver knows what we’re really up to?”
“He thinks like us, so yeah. I also think he knows he’s not our target and never will be.” I was also pretty sure that King Oliver knew who Roy really was, but that wasn’t something to worry about, now or later.
Andromeda hadn’t been part of the original Martian Alliance, but they’d always been sympathetic to the cause. And King Oliver had schooled on Espen, where, back before the Diamante Purge, all the best royal families had sent their bloodline. He’d been a year or so behind Roy’s father, but I was positive they’d known each other.
“Good enough for me,” Roy said. “Good work, everybody. Let’s relax. At least for a little while.”
We sailed through space, waiting for the next job. We had a longer wait for retribution, but we’d all accepted that a long time ago. For now, it was enough to re-count the money. After all, it’s the simple things you treasure.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to my amazing editor, Celina Summers, as well as the rest of the awesome Musa team. So very excited to be a part of the magic!
Shout outs for being wonderful as always to my awesome agent, Cherry Weiner, and my crit partner extraordinaire, Lisa Dovichi.
Special thanks and all my love to my husband, Steve, and daughter, Veronica, who have handled my new “I have more deadlines!” stress levels with good humor while intelligently shoving lots of booze and chocolate at me.
Finally, thanks to all the con artists of the world who’ve inspired me perhaps a bit more than I should mention. You complete me.
About the Author
Gini Koch lives in Hell’s Orientation Area (aka Phoenix, AZ), works her butt off (sadly, not literally) by day, and writes by night with the rest of the beautiful people. She writes the fast, fresh and funny Alien/Katherine “Kitty” Katt series for DAW Books and the Martian Alliance Chronicles series for Musa Publishing, listens to rock music 24/7, and is a proud comics geek-girl willing to discuss at any time why Wolverine is the best superhero ever (even if Deadpool does get all the best lines). She also speaks frequently on what it takes to become a successful author and other aspects of writing and the publishing business.
She can be reached through her website at:
www.GiniKoch.com
Table of Contents
Cover
title page
Copyright Information
The Royal Scam
Acknowledgments
About the Author