by C. R. Daems
"Hi, Spacer. I'm Lucy. What can I get you?" a young woman with a red Mohawk hair style chirped and touched the table top, which made three boxes appear: food, drinks, and other. I touched drinks and a list appeared. I selected a dark Vayk beer. She nodded and shortly afterward returned with a glass mug with an etched spacecraft, the type and class inscribed below the image. Mine had a Kodiak class ACS Battle Cruiser. I sat content to survey the people at the bar and table. They looked to have originated from many of the Rim systems’ planets, judging by the style of their clothes, skin color, and build: tall, thin, broad, muscular, and wiry… The various planets' gravity would have had a lot to do with general build, the amount of sun with skin color, and the climate with clothing. The bar lady's voice jerked me out of my musing.
"Want a refill or something to eat?" she asked, grinning.
"Do you know how I can get in touch with a Toccara Greco? I was told I could find him at the Night Owl."
"Sure." She raised her chin up and to her right. When I looked up there was a balcony that covered a fifth of the lower room. "He's the man with the spider tattoo on his bald head, full beard, and as large as an adult bear." She laughed. "But you need an invitation to go up there."
"A friend recommended I talk to him," I said, unsure if I should mention Henrik or what it was in reference to. She nodded, tapped something on her belt, and spoke into the mic which extended from her earpiece.
"Boss, a spacer here at the bar wants to speak to you. Said a friend recommended he talk to you."
I turned to see a big man sitting at a table next to a glass railing. When Lucy saw him look down toward the bar, she held her arm up with her finger pointing down at me. After a minute, he nodded and turned away.
"The stairs to the left. The two guard dogs know you're cleared…but they don't like guns. I don't know about big cats," she said when I stood and Shadi rose.
"Guess we'll find out," I said, and slid five credits to her. As I approached, the two guard dogs went on high alert, straightening and hands moving to their gun grips.
"No weapons allowed upstairs and the cat stays here," the taller of the two whispered in a dangerous tone. Of the two, he looked to be the deadliest in a shootout, whereas the other better at bare-knuckle brawls.
"I'll give you my two clips for the Bahr but the cat stays with me," I countered in a normal voice. I shifted my gaze between the two men. I wasn't going to stare down the gun fighter and had to worry the brawler might decide to enter the discussion.
"No guns upstairs," the gun fighter's whisper turned to a hiss. I shrugged and strolled away. When I reached the door to exit the club, the guard raised a hand.
"The boss said okay to the cat and an empty gun," he said, sounding surprised. Apparently, that was a first. I nodded and returned to the stairs where the brawler patted me down after I surrendered my two clips, ejected the bullet in the chamber, and gave them the knife in my boot. The brawler released the bar across the stairs and Shadi and I proceeded to the second floor landing and over to the booth where the big man sat waiting. He silently appraising me as I approached, as did the two bodyguards against the wall behind him.
"That was a clever approach, disable your Mfw but keep your docile-looking cat that I'll bet is every bit as dangerous as the Bahr special you carry," he said when I reached the booth.
"A reasonable compromise. You don't know me and I don't know you so we don't know if we can trust the other," I said, noting he didn't need to trust me. He had several bodyguards on this level with Mfws, which meant he had the overwhelming advantage.
"True. You said a friend…" He waved me to an empty chair sitting at the table in front of the booth.
"Henrik," I said as I sat, moving my chair so Shadi could sit between me and the side of the booth where Toccara sat. He said nothing but his eyes narrowed slightly. Then he smiled.
"Oh, the incident at Club Henrik." He laughed good-naturedly. "To hear it told, Kurt killed three men who tried to rob him of a special delivery package. He was a little vague on how one of the men had his throat ripped out." His eyes shifted to Shadi briefly.
"Sometimes it's hard to remember what you did while you are fighting for your life," I said and grinned.
"So you deliver…things." He rubbed his finger through his beard as he watched me.
"Packages, people, and messages." The negotiations had begun.
"Where is your next stop?"
"I have no time-sensitive deliveries at the moment."
"Stay and have something to eat and drink on me. We can talk after the club closes." He waved to a private booth against the wall. I ordered a crusted fish dinner served over a bed of rice, spinach, and nuts. Afterward I was served a triple chocolate layer cake that melted in my mouth. Shadi had a leg of lamb. Neither meal was something the automatic chef on the Tykhe could produce. I was nursing my second exceptional-tasting beer from Lutetia, one of the Central Systems, when Greco joined me with two bodyguards who would look dangerous without the Mfws they carried.
"How would you like to take someone to Plata for me?"
"As a passenger?"
"That would get him too much scrutiny from the authorities. He would like to keep his business transaction discrete," Greco said with a slight grin. Translation, his business is illegal, I mused while remaining expressionless.
"As crew and returning to Vayk?" I asked.
"Crew would be good but returning here would not. Drop him anywhere after he finishes his business."
Translation, he's an independent contractor and not to be linked to me, I mused.
"No contraband," I said. If he got caught smuggling I could be involved, whereas if he got caught doing something illegal on planet I wouldn't. Greco gave me an amused look.
"You would carry something…personal for me?"
"I would. My passengers won't." I returned his amused look with one of my own. The Tykhe had excellent secret compartments that could evade a customs inspection—and had over the years. However, I doubted my passengers could be as successful. "I'll post a notice at the merchant's guild for a part-time mechanic. What name will your passenger be going by?"
"Dave Williams. He doesn't have a record and will have a crew license. What will it cost?"
"I'll be carrying dangerous cargo of an unknown nature, could be held responsible for his actions if linked to me, and I'll have to lose him. On the plus side, I'm a successful merchant and reliable, as Henrik would attest," I said not sure how much it was worth to me and to Greco. He smiled.
"Twenty-five thousand. Reliability is worth a premium," he said without smiling, indicating that was a non-negotiable offer. In fact, I would have accepted twenty. I lifted my half-full glass of beer to him.
"To no surprises," I said. He frowned then smiled and raised his glass to me.
"To no surprises."
CHAPTER TWO
Star System: Plata
The next day I posted an open crew position for a mechanic. I didn't expect or want candidates and intentionally listed the position as part time and made the description vague. Dave Williams showed up the next day. He was just what I expected—an athletic looking man in spacer clothing, a pleasant smile, and cold-looking eyes.
"Trader Zenaida, I'm Dave Williams, here about your crew position," he said in a respectful tone and gave me a slight bow. "That’s a beautiful cat." This time the words carried a hint of emotion.
"Thank you. She's a snow leopard." I offered, wondering if he had seen one before or knew of anyone who had one. I motioned for him to follow me and led him into my galley where I had a small table and fetched two cups of coffee. "Your business is none of my business but you will bring no contraband on my ship without my knowledge."
He nodded. "Understood. I'm hoping our visit to Plata will go unnoticed."
"Good, your access is limited to the galley, exercise, and entertainment rooms, and your sleeping quarters."
"Understood."
I rose and gave him a tour of the
areas he was free to use, ending at his quarters. "I plan to leave tomorrow morning at six hundred hours."
"I'll be on board tonight between six and eight," he said as he departed Tykhe.
* * *
I spent most of the next day on the Flight Deck, setting a course to Plata, navigating through Vayk space, and monitoring my passenger's activities. He had stayed in his quarters most of the day, reading, except for a brief time in the galley. The trip would take three days and I needed to know something about him, so I made my way to the dining room when I saw him there.
"Good evening, Pilot, and to your lovely companion," he said raising a glass of wine to Shadi and me.
"Zen will do," I said, dialing up a steak dinner for Shadi and a meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and corn meal for me, and then opened a bottle of beer.
"Dave," he responded. "Have you ever been to Plata?" he asked.
"Several times," I said. "Two continents but only five or six major cities. Lots of open space."
"I shouldn't be more than two or three days, if you are in a hurry to leave…" He paused, watching me.
I shook my head. "No rush. In fact it may be good to stay a few extra days. Wouldn't want to give anyone the impression we left in a hurry." I waited for his reaction and a possible clue to his business.
"Good idea. Maybe you can find some lucrative cargo while we’re there," he said and took a sip of his wine. I almost laughed. We were both fishing for clues.
"I assume you travel in your line of business," I said and waited for a small nod. "Have you heard of anyone having a snow leopard or looking to buy one?"
"Why, you looking to sell one?" He nodded towards Shadi. My face tightened involuntarily at the insinuation I'd sell her. "No, I can see you wouldn't. No, your cat is the first one I've ever seen. But I can understand…collectors wanting one."
"Shadi's litter was stolen. I'd pay a reward to know where they are."
"The thieves?"
"The litter," I said, louder than I intended. If I could find who purchased them I might be able to find who stole them. But regardless, I was concerned about the cubs' welfare.
"Then?"
"Then there must be an accounting."
"I wish you success," he said and was silent during the rest of the meal.
While I spent most of my time on the Flight Deck, Dave spent most of his time in his room, reading. Over the next two days, we only met twice in the galley.
"Is it dangerous traveling alone in the Rim?" he asked the second time we met. I was sure he meant a woman traveling alone.
"Traveling alone is always dangerous, but yes, the Rim is worse than the Central Systems. There is less law, less enforcement, and even less consistency. Analogous to the wild west of old-Earth."
"Less consistency?" he asked, frowning.
"What could get you life in prison on York might get you caned on Saket and would be legal on Hohhot." I shrugged. He laughed long and hard.
"That would make it important for a… business person to understand the laws in each system." He gave me a knowing look. From my observations and our talks, Dave, if that was his name, was extremely methodical, and I'd wager he knew every law in every system he visited.
* * *
We had little trouble with Plata customs. I had managed to find one delivery for Plata, which they ignored after seeing to whom it was addressed, and only gave Dave's and my credentials a cursory examination.
"Do you have any preference where you want to be taken from here?" I asked, as it might make a difference if I found another contract.
"Any of the Rim Systems except Vayk."
"All right. Be back on board five days from now or let me know if you can't make it," I said. He nodded as he slung his leather bag over his shoulder and wandered off. Watching him walk, silent and balanced like a cat, I wouldn't want to be the person or persons he was going to visit. I decided to stop in at the local merchant guild to see if anyone wanted something legal transported somewhere, I laughed mentally. The legal things would barely pay for the Tykhe's fuel and general maintenance. Afterward I thought I'd check out a few of the old places where my father used to hang out. That may generate some not-so-legal business and money to eat and savings for stormy days.
Dave made me nervous, so I decided to spend an hour or two with Shadi, playing paintball. I had begun the game over six years ago when I realized my father dealt with some very dangerous men, not to mention the excessive number of thugs in the Rim. I began practicing with a handgun then moved to other weapons, realizing that while Shadi was extremely lethal, a projectile or laser or knife could kill her as easily as me. And while I understood the necessity to move, seek cover, and stay out of the line of sight of the muzzle, Shadi didn't. She would spring at the individual without any concern for weapons. So I purchased a paintball gun and, with the help of our mental connection, began teaching her what to look for and lethal areas on the human body. Her real advantage was her reflexes. They were several times faster than a human so she could change direction faster than someone could change where they were aiming.
If my opponent twisted ninety degrees to avoid being shot and I struck his arm, I may or may not dislodge his weapon. If Shadi struck the attacker's arm, she would tear the skin to the bone and the arm would be useless. So the game had no set exercises. I may be sitting or standing or my gun strapped to my leg or in my hand. I would give Shadi little or no warning so over time she came to recognize potential dangers. Today it was almost impossible for me to score, and then usually not a direct hit to the head or body. She loved the game and was as crafty as a professional fighter. Many times she would suddenly change direction and go for the legs, which would not only knock an opponent over but would shred his legs in the process and cause him to lose the weapon.
It was a fun afternoon and we left the Tykhe around eight in the evening for the Lava Lounge. True to its name, the lounge had a realistic-looking mountain over a story high that belched smoke every fifteen minutes, realistic looking lava every hour, and once a night one or two realistic-looking rocks which contained prizes ranging from one hundred to one thousand credits. Of course all the prices at the club were inflated to accommodate the cost of the prizes.
I took a seat at the end of the bar with Shadi between me and the next seat. A short time later a large overweight man sat in the vacant seat next to me and looked down at Shadi who was looking up at him.
"Is your pet friendly?" he asked, a broad smile peeking out of his bushy beard.
"No. The last idiot who petted her head lost three fingers," I said, continuing to survey the area. I didn't see anyone I recognized. It didn’t matter. I intended to make sure people knew I was in town. If they had business, they would contact me.
The next day, I visited the merchant guild and spent time talking with a group at the bar. I've found over the years it was much easier for a woman to join a group of men than a man. And although I wasn't blond and voluptuous, I was reasonably attractive, standing just over one hundred seventy five centimeters, in my early twenties, short curly black hair, and pleasant oval face with full lips, small nose, and gray-green eyes. More important, I could hold my own with spacers and merchants, having had ten years tutoring by a successful smuggler. I found half the men wanted to bed me while the other half want to father me.
"Have any of you heard of anyone having a snow leopard for sale?" I asked when the attention turned to Shadi, which it usually did. I hoped that would include information about someone owning one.
"I heard some rich guy on Bijapur had one as a pet. Thought it strange at the time since you would need to keep it in a cage. That wouldn't make a good pet. But yours seems gentle," he said while giving me an embarrassed smile.
"You’re right. Wild animals usually don't do well in captivity and make poor pets. Shadi is a rare exception."
I was in a good mood as I made my way back to the Tykhe and lost in my thoughts of having found my first link to the missing litter. Shadi's m
ental warning of danger made me realize it was early morning and the parking area was deserted and I had failed to notice two men were approaching from behind me. They were spread about five steps to my right and left.
"Well, sweet thing, you're in luck. We're available to share an evening with you. Oh, keep that cat quiet. If he even growls, my friend will kill him. He'd look good hanging—"
"Shadi attack" I shouted mentally, sending an image of the man on her side. I knew deep inside me they meant to kill her anyway. Before I had finished the thought, she spun in his direction… Simultaneously I spun to the other side, throwing myself sideways as I released my Bahr Mfw from its swivel-holster. The man and I fired simultaneously. He missed. I didn't and multiple pellets tore into his chest, lifting him off his feet. He landed on his back like a sack of grain and didn't move. When I turned to look at Shadi, her attacker was down on the tarmac, his arm and a leg spurting blood. I rose and walked over to where he lay screaming. His gun lay several feet away. I called Shadi to my side and stood watching as the screams became moans and eventually stopped. Then I called port security and waited for them to arrive.
* * *
Dave arrived late on the fourth day. I met him at the entrance ramp.
"I heard you killed two men who attacked you last night. Were you injured?" he asked as he scanned Shadi and me from head to foot.
"No. Just inconvenienced."
"How much will we be delayed?" he asked frowning in thought.