I stepped up into my boat, still keeping myself between her and the airlock controls.
"You’re just going to leave me!" she cried.
"Well, darlin’ I think my welcome has just about worn out here. Time to move on." I watched her face carefully. That legendary Wraith control seemed to evaporate. I knew well enough what desperation looked like.
"I can pay you!" She blurted.
Now we were getting somewhere. That little surprise tucked against her back was platinum scrip. No mistaking the weight and feel of it.
I smiled. "Well, why didn’t you say so?" I waved her into the lifter, knowing I’d have the advantage in such close quarters.
I took her hand to help her inside and was surprised by how small it felt in my massive grip. I could break every one of the 27 bones in that hand with a hard squeeze. Knowing that somehow made me feel protective.
I nodded to the right seat, the co-pilot’s station. As she squeezed past me, I noticed a dark red blotch at the corner of her mouth. I didn’t like the look of blood – not on her. I took her arm, to hold her still, and smudged it away with my thumb.
"You had a little bit of blood on your face." I winked at her, watching a half dozen emotions skitter across her expression all at once.
She held my gaze as I held her arm, "They’re almost here."
I released her and settled into the pilot’s seat. "Payment?"
She hesitated for a fraction of a second and then pulled out two slats.
"I want half of whatever you took. Considering the penalty for unauthorized transport of a Wraith, it had better be worth my while."
The faintest flush tinged her ivory cheeks. I could see she’d just realized I’d frisked her earlier. I wanted to laugh again, but I kept quiet.
Another pause and she pulled out three slats, tossing them at my lap, then crossed her arms up over her chest. Sulking. It was cute on her.
I couldn’t help but smile. "Well this is turning out to be a pretty good stop after all."
I closed the hatch as the Combiners approached the ship, reaching across to her with my left hand. "Name’s Roy."
She looked straight ahead, staring at something only she could see. "Trig."
"Well strap in, Trig. This’ll be a little bumpy."
I whistled a tune we learned in Basic. "So where you headed, kid?"
"Don’t call me kid. And anywhere that isn’t here."
Still sulking. I didn’t care.
I slapped the throttle forward in one swift slide and the lifter’s drives pressed us hard into our seats. "That’s a happy accident, darlin’, because that’s exactly where I’m goin’." And, just to show her how good my mood was, I winked.
She stared impassively at the featureless wall of gray that was Earth’s permanent cloud cover while we bucked through roiling thermals. She was doing her best to ignore me, but not much could dampen my mood.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I wanted sex. Sex with her.
That’s what I told myself – why I’d helped her. And why shouldn’t I? It wasn’t like I had other commitments. Of course, the smart part of me, the head with an actual brain, cautioned that she was a Wraith. She could be involved in just about anything.
She seemed so different from what we’d been taught to recognize. The Wraiths we studied all looked like teenage girls, most of them with light colored hair. This girl was taller and, although she was slender, hers was a woman’s body. I liked the way she kept her graceful arms crossed over her breasts, flattening them slightly. I liked the way her dark brows lowered over the penetrating blue of her eyes when she scowled at me.
For a long time, I’d found it easy to scratch whatever itch I might have at any given moment. This was different. Maybe because I couldn’t just throw a wad of currency at her and get what I wanted. Maybe because she could kill me before I even sussed her intent. I had no idea and didn’t much care. For the moment, I was content to breathe her scent and feel the warmth of her glowing gently beside me.
"I’m laying in a trajectory for the Belt, for Ceres. Mundus Habitat is big enough that we can stay anonymous. Plenty of freelance work for small ships."
"Fine by me." She said, and settled deeper into her seat as if she intended to spend the week it would take us to get there sitting right where she was.
I wondered what she was running from. It wasn’t the Squats that had her so clenched up. There was something bigger, something she didn’t think she could handle. I found myself wondering why the hell I thought I’d be the one to help her handle it.
"Wanna grab quarters? Crew space in this boat isn’t half bad. The berths are pretty roomy."
She started slightly and turned to stare at me.
"Oh... that wasn’t an invitation." I should’ve stopped right there, but I couldn’t seem to keep from talking. "Well... not unless you want it to be."
Her eyes flickered blue ice. I held up my palms and laughed awkwardly. "Hey, just being a good host." I told her, then muttered under my breath, "shit..."
"I’ve paid my passage. Sex wasn’t part of the original negotiation." She said it in such a matter of fact way.
I gave her my most charming shore-leave smile. "We could always renegotiate..."
She shifted in her seat to face me, further accentuating the scooped out neckline of that tight black top. "Let’s get clear about something..." her voice dripped disdain, and maybe just a touch of something else. Fear? "I just need to be away from Marajo, from Earth. I’m not here to get laid."
"By me, as in me in particular, because really we haven’t known each other long enough for you to dislike me that much?" I kept my tone light.
"With a Confed soldier. With a Jack."
Ah, now we were getting somewhere. "Well that’s perfect then because I’m not a Marine. Not any more" I smiled again, knowing it would piss her off and faintly enjoying the knowledge.
She stared at me with those penetrating eyes, with a concentration that bored into me as if she was counting my gray cells – and coming up with a disappointingly low number. But then her eyes flicked away involuntarily, just for a moment, and I realized she wasn’t sure how to respond. She was off balance.
"So... since I’m not a Jack, if you’re offering other forms of compensation, we might be able to come to an arrangement."
Suddenly, unexpectedly, she smiled. Her face lit up in amusement and she was beautiful. Scary beautiful.
"You’re not going to intimidate me. I can tell you won’t take advantage and I’m not aroused or unsettled by your suggestions."
I didn’t know which part of that to address first, so I started with, "How can you tell I won’t take advantage?" In truth, I was honestly curious about that one because I wasn’t even sure myself if I really wouldn’t.
"Because your respiration rate doesn’t indicate an arousal state, your heart has remained steady at 60 beats per minute. There are other tells, but I would be stupid to reveal what they are." Her laugh was derisive. And that actually did get to me.
I popped my restraint and moved so that I was straddling her hips, my hands on the armrests of her seat, bracketing her. I’m pretty quick for a big guy and I moved so fast that she barely pushed out a grunt of surprise before I was on top of her. Our noses bumped. I moved close enough to her lips to breathe the same air, but not quite touching, and stared into those amazing eyes.
"How about now? Has my arousal state changed?"
I was so close her breasts brushed against my chest when she inhaled. I could feel her and I knew she could feel me. She tensed.
"You should back away from me." Her voice sounded smaller, quieter than before.
Truth was, I really didn’t want to threaten her. She’d just pushed a couple of wrong buttons. Or maybe the right ones.
So I eased back and chuckled, "You should pick a bunk. It’s five days to Ceres. Might as well be comfortable."
She eyed me warily, but unhooked her restraint and climbed out of her seat. "I can have my
own compartment?"
"Well, sure. This little baby," and I tenderly patted the dash of my stolen ship, "has berthing for at least 7." I lowered my voice and muttered, "More if you double up."
"I heard that." She said, but this time she sounded relaxed. "Show me where I can clean up. I trust you can drive this piece of shit by yourself."
She followed me along the central passageway, through the common area, to the crew spaces. Mine was the first one along the port side. She picked the furthest one down on the starboard. She retreated into her compartment without so much as a look back. I barely saw her for the next five days.
The ship was equipped with a little servbot. I had it take her protein cubes and water and leave them outside of her door.
It wasn’t until a couple of hours before we were to dock at Mundus that she came and sat next to me in the co-pilot’s seat. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap and nervous energy radiated from her smooth, pale skin.
A moment of silence and then she said, "What did you mean about it being illegal to transport Wraiths?"
I glanced at her sidelong, keeping my eyes fixed on the nav to hide my surprise. If she didn’t know about the mandate then she’d been off grid for a very long time. I couldn’t help but wonder why.
"I guess it was 11 or 12 years ago, the Confed declared it illegal for any private ship, which this most definitely is, to transport a Wraith. Actually Wraiths, Morgs and Irezi’s. They’re only supposed to travel on sanctioned craft, with full docs."
I turned now, and watched her face. She sat stiff, her eyes fixed on the vast blackness outside. It was only then I noticed the faint shadows under her eyes. Didn’t look like she’d been sleeping much..
Trying for a softer tone I said, "Just a wild guess here, but I’m betting you don’t have much documentation."
Trig turned and looked me in the eyes. "And I suppose you do? I suppose this ‘ship’ is yours free and clear and you’re just an ex-marine turned cargo pilot?"
"Oh I’ve got docs all right." I laughed. "For all the good they’d do me."
Her expression made me laugh even harder. It felt good. Good to talk about it. Good that I wasn’t alone in my outlaw state. I leaned back in my seat and stared into the dark for a moment. She had more questions, but she didn’t need to be pushed.
I waited.
"So Mundus won’t ask?"
"Nope. They make their money by being the neutral point of commerce among Earth, Mars and Jupiter. They couldn’t care less who I am and wouldn’t ask if they did."
"That’s good." She shrugged and settled back into the padded seat. "So what are you going to do?"
"I’m going to drop some stuff off, make a few cads, pick up supplies from the vendors that hang around the docks and then I’m going farther out. Someplace harder for the Confed to reach."
I found myself wondering what Trig would do once we docked at Mundus. Wraiths are notoriously self-sufficient, but she seemed so different. The Belt was an unforgiving place. You added value or you died. There wasn’t much in between. It occurred to me that she might not make it on her own. I remembered a little boy who slept on a cot in a whorehouse and felt a pang of... something.
Before I could think to voice my concern, she smiled. "I can steal."
She said it so flatly that I was taken by surprise, but my lack of response apparently came across as a challenge.
Trig tilted her head a touch and stared at me under dark eyelashes. "I can."
My brain came unstuck. "And this would be useful because?"
"Because maybe you can’t always get the things this ship needs, that you need, from the usual sources. Because you’re as far on the outside as I am. Maybe farther."
"I didn’t think you wanted company."
"I didn’t know if I should trust you – with you being, you know..."
I folded my hand over my heart. "A generous host? A scintillating conversationalist? Male?"
She glanced at the ports in my wrists. "Confed."
"But if you were going to turn me in, you’d have done it by now. Ceres is outside Confed space. Why take me all the way out there to hand me over?"
"Maybe I can get a better price in Mundus."
The color drained from her ivory skin, making her almost ethereal. Her eyes turned to blue ice. She looked ghostly. Like a Wraith.
"Hey, that was a joke." I said softly. She quickly looked away. "There is one isn’t there? A bounty."
Her shrug answered first. "Probably... Yeah I think so."
I reached out to her, but she drew away. "Trig," I said quietly, "Even if I wanted to turn you in, I couldn’t. I can’t go near the Confed."
"Look," I said, as I splayed out my fingers over the command console, "I’ve been thinking about putting together a crew anyway. Even with bots and AI’s, I can’t run this ship alone. So if you want... sign on. Stay."
I could see her thinking it through, like a chess move. But there was something else too. Something more human. Relief?
"But," I held up my hand, "no more deliveries. You want grub. You come to the mess and get it."
She nodded. "How many more will you need?" I could see her weighing risks.
"Maybe one or two. We don’t need be in each other’s business – in fact the less we know the better."
She nodded again.
"A tech at least. I’m whole lot better a breaking things than fixing them."
"Okay." She agreed but added, "But can it just be one more?"
I grinned. "Yeah. One more sounds about right."
CHAPTER EIGHT
We docked in the morning, local time, not like morning meant much in the Belt. The main dome of Mundus is huge, so big it has a real atmosphere, with weather. Unfortunately, the trade guilds that run the place are big on saving energy (for themselves mostly), so Mundus is perpetually cold. Like frosty breath and ice on the walls cold. Kill you in an hour cold.
I wanted to leave Trig on the ship, but the boat would have to stay drives-hot to keep life support up and I didn’t want to spend the fuel. I told her to get ready and meet me in the lock. A minute later she showed up wearing the same tight black outfit, with that little skirt, that I’d seen her in for the last week, at which point I realized what a dumbshit I’d been. It wasn’t like she’d brought luggage with her.
"You’ll freeze in about thirty minutes, dressed like that." I popped open the airlock’s storage bin.
She threw me a little shrug and flipped up the skirt up over her head like a shawl.
"Yeah. That’s not gonna help."
I grabbed a couple of unmarked military parkas from the bin and thrust one her way. She shrugged out of the wrap and draped the heavy coat over her shoulders.
"That’s ballistic cloth over some very expensive nanite environment control layers. It’ll keep you warm without making you sweat. Stops most small arms too."
I explained the temperatures and the need for her to stay covered. What I didn’t say was that I also wanted to camouflage that body of hers. Mundus was a hardassed place and there were plenty of hardassed Belters who likely hadn’t seen a woman at all for a very long time, much less one who looked like Trig. I didn’t need a riot on my hands.
"I can barely move in this thing" She groused as I pulled the parka’s hood up over her glossy hair, burying her face in shadow. But now she might pass for just another transient, bundled against the cold. That made me feel a little better.
Trig grumbled that her clothes were fine. That she could handle the cold. Something about conscious metabolic regulation. I had no doubt she could, but then that wasn’t really the point.
I tugged her hood down over her forehead. "You still stand out. Your eyes. You still look too, I don’t know... Wraith."
With that she closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them, the irises appeared duller, normal almost.
"How’d you do that?"
She stepped out of the ship into the docking corridor. I followed close behind he
r.
"Just an adjustment."
Simple enough, but it was a reminder of what she was, what she could do. Given how little time had elapsed between my ‘retirement’ and her appearance, it didn’t seem all that likely Trig had been sent to find me. And, if she had, there’d been plenty of opportunity for her to just take me out. But then a Wraith would make a pretty formidable bounty hunter. How much would the Confed pay to get me back alive? That thought made me feel a little sick.
I wanted to trust her, even though that could be a mistake. If it was, I’d end badly, in blood and pain. But then again that had been my fate for a very long time. Didn’t matter much how I came to it. I shook off the thought and led the way. She had to jog to catch up with me.
She fell in step beside me and her shoulder brushed my bicep. I wondered what would happen if I did have to fight her. Would I be able to crush that slender throat? Smash that delicate nose? Gouge those hypnotic eyes?
I was doomed.
As I mused, the ship’s servbot whizzed past our heads.
Trig ducked and watched it fly past. "Bot’s coming?"
"Yeah." I followed the little machine into a waiting shuttle, one of a fleet of self – driving electric vans that crews use to get from the docks into Mundus proper.
"Why do we need a person? Why can’t we just get another bot? That seems... less complicated."
It probably would be. Fewer people, fewer entanglements, fewer mouths to feed, fewer histories like mine – and Trig’s. But bots aren’t very adaptable. You buy them. They do what they do and that’s pretty much it. People might be more trouble, but they were a hell of a lot more flexible.
"You want to spend your hard earned cads on a bot?" I knew she was carrying that scrip tucked safely into the small of her back. She would never leave so much money on an unmonitored ship. Me either. Mine was shoved in my boots.
Trig raised an eyebrow. "Split the cost?" It was warmer in the shuttle and she pushed back her hood..
"Nope. You want it, you buy it."
She sighed, "Fine. But you have to help me pick it out."
"That I can do. This is the Belt. The place is crawling with bots."
The Jack's Story (BRIGAND Book 2) Page 4