by Ben Hopkin
Before she could respond, Buton stepped forward. “Perhaps this is best discussed inside?”
Cleo felt her shock forging itself into white-hot rage as she followed the group into the interior of the ship. Is that really where Jarod was going to go with this whole thing? She ripped off her helmet the moment the door to the outside achieved its seal and watched all-but-Jarod’s- latest conquest do the same. Considering how much hostility was floating around the hold, Cleo didn’t particularly blame her. Much.
“How dare you turn this on me?” She got close enough to Jarod to shove him, but managed to restrain herself at the last moment.
“Hey!” Jarod shrugged. “I meant it as a compliment!”
Cleo’s mouth gaped open for a brief heartbeat. “Comparing me to this whore!” Cleo realized what she had said, turned to the woman, and muttered, “Nothing personal.”
The woman removed her helmet and spoke for the first time. “None taken.”
And then all hell broke loose.
Rob pointed his finger at her. “You’re Gil’s squeeze!”
Buton mumbled, “Oh, dear.”
That was it. Cleo had had more than enough of Jarod. Enough of his charm. Enough of his attitude. Enough of his idiotic sexcapades.
“How dare you risk everything for—”
Jarod threw up his hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He waited for the hubbub to die down. “If Mia here is telling the truth, the risk is totally worth it.” He turned to the woman, who, all of a sudden, seemed to develop stage fright.
“C’mon, Mia,” Jarod urged. “I’ve shown you mine…”
The petite Asian waved her arms around the derelict ship. “Yeah, but it’s not much.”
Jarod smirked. “Trust me, I’ve got it going on where it counts.”
Cleo was about to rag on Jarod some more when Mia reached into her pocket and removed something sleek and black.
Jarod spoke into the hushed silence. “She says it locates Star Diamonds.”
Cleo stepped back, her eyes rolling while the words spilled out of her mouth. “That’s impossible.” She saw, out of the corner of her eye, that Buton was gazing at the device with no discernible judgment. He appeared enthralled.
Rob openly scoffed. “I’ve read all the geology journals—”
“That’s because the researchers weren’t looking in the right direction,” Mia explained. Watch…”
She waved the scanner over a bulkhead. The device remained inert. Then she brought it near Rob’s head, and it began beeping.
“It’s tuned to electromagnetic pulses normally associated with brain activity.”
That aroused Cleo’s curiosity. “Like an EEG?”
“Exactly.”
Buton inserted himself between Cleo and the woman with her device. “Is that a Bayer Medscan?”
“Right. A Model 4 plus.”
“You’ve modified it. May I examine it?” Buton held out his hand for the device, which Mia deposited in his hand with some reluctance. Buton turned the scanner over in his hands, observing it from all angles.
Cleo still didn’t understand. “Okay…but what’s that got to do with Star Diamonds?”
“My doctoral dissertation was on the effects of fine arts on the human brain.”
A light seemed to go on in Jarod’s brain. He smacked his forehead with his palm. “Painters and shrinks!”
“Exactly. One day I passed by an exhibit of Star Diamonds on my way to the Impressionist collection at the Louvre, when the scanner went berserk.” Mia shrugged her petite shoulders. “After a few…well…false starts, I put two and two together and refined the scanner to sniff out diamonds.” Something about that experience Mia clearly wasn’t mentioning, but that was the least of Cleo’s concerns right now.
Buton handed the device back to Mia. “We can test it right now.”
“Um…,” Mia said slowly. “I hate to point this out, but we’re a long way from the panning fields… A long way from any diamonds at all, actually.”
Buton began replacing his helmet on his head. Cleo and the rest of the crew followed suit. Rob turned to Mia after making sure his seal was secure.
“If you’re lying,” Cleo said, “you’re walking back.”
Mia just stood there. “I don’t understand.”
Jarod patted her shoulder as he passed by. “I’m about to really show you mine.”
For once, Cleo really wanted to see that.
* * *
Gil glanced around the dark bar as he entered. He had followed the trio—an older gentleman and two men of the more muscular persuasion, from the “prospecting” camp in the northeast sector, making sure he kept well back and out of sight. This was not where he had anticipated ending up. Gil’s radar was up and pinging.
As he scanned the dingy club, Gil noticed remnants of what looked like one doozy of a bar fight. The patrons were all on edge, nursing their drinks as well as their grudges. And any number of bruises, Gil would guess. He continued his survey, locating the prey but allowing his gaze to pass right over them as if he had taken no notice.
There were two men that were obviously military types. Lean, mean fighting machines whose heads continually swiveled around, taking in all points of the darkened bar. An obvious escort. The third was so out of place that he might as well have been sporting gills. He was an older man with an academic air about him. That he was buying drinks for the prospectors to his immediate left was not lost on Gil. The man was pumping the locals for information. Gil had done the same thing enough times to know what it looked like. And this guy, quite frankly, had no game.
Gil, on the other hand, did. He watched for a little while, hanging back in the shadows. The older man was driving the regulars off in droves. They would hang around just long enough for the academic to buy them drinks, then slink off after answering a couple of questions. They did not return. There was a palpable zone of discomfort around the guy. Gil almost felt sorry for him.
After he’d observed enough, Gil approached the bar on the far end—away from the strange trio. He waved for the bartender, who nodded an acknowledgment and leaned over the bar to top off the drinks of a couple of miners who hadn’t yet been driven off. As the barkeep sauntered over, Gil tossed him a credit chit. The man swiped the chit, his eyebrows rising as he viewed the number listed there. He went to hand the chit back to Gil.
“Keep it.”
“But it’s an open credit line…” The bartender left his sentence hanging in the air.
“Yes it is. Up to a thousand.”
The credit chit vanished in the blink of an eye. Gil couldn’t say for sure where it had gone. This was his kind of bartender.
The man leaned in, his voice low. “What can I do for you?”
“Vodka tonic…” Gil drawled. He nodded toward the awkward threesome in the other corner. “And a heads-up.”
* * *
Rob trudged alongside the Asian woman…Mia?...and her dead silent scanner. He had gotten excited when Buton showed interest in the thing, but now, forty-five minutes and a couple of hills later, Rob was going back to his original thoughts on “diamond locators.” He glanced at the woman and her device, trying not to look too suspicious. He imagined he wasn’t succeeding very well.
He didn’t know about anyone else, but he was tired, thirsty, and totally over exotic- looking women with weird amulets and strange devices. He looked out over the rest of the crew, their glum faces mirroring his own. They had all been so excited just a little while ago. Rob couldn’t help but blame Mia for the change. Probably not fair, but there it was.
The woman stopped, kicking up moondust. “This is getting us nowhere… If you want me to prove it, we need to go to the diamond fields.”
Yeah. Rob trusted Buton and his calculations a lot more than some cheapo Medscan thingy.
“Hope you have been working your quads, babe? It’s a long walk back.”
Jarod scanned the area after throwing Rob a quick disapproving glance. Probably for
the “babe” comment. Hey, Rob called ’em like he saw ’em.
Jarod huffed. “Are we sure that this is the right place?”
Rob rolled his eyes. Trust Uncle Jare to take the chick’s side about something.
Cleo stepped in, her voice colder than the space outside their helmets. “The better question… Does her device truly work?” For once, Rob was right with Momma Bear.
Mia matched Cleo’s tone ice for ice. “I have a medical degree from Harvard, a Ph.D. from Stanford—”
Buton’s voice, in contrast, sounded bored. “And I have taught at both institutions, so please do not attempt—”
The scanner in Mia’s hand suddenly screeched, loud and long. She bent her head to look at the readout, and then looked up, her expression befuddled.
“There must be something wrong.”
Jarod peered over her shoulder. “What’s it say?”
“This can’t be right. It’s way too big…”
Buton took the device from Mia and glanced at the readout. “I believe it is precisely accurate.”
Mia looked from one member of the crew to another, seeking something she could understand. “What could cause such readings?”
Rob whispered, hardly trusting himself to say the words. “The mother lode.”
The crew was silent, locking gazes with one another for a long moment. Then, as one, they started whooping and slapping each other on the back, hugging and maybe even crying a little bit. Just a little bit. Mia just stood there, uncomprehending.
“Um. Would somebody like to explain?”
Rob trotted over to do just that. All of a sudden, he really liked this woman and her freaky little black device.
* * *
If Gil weren’t so busy getting the exact information he needed, he would’ve been tempted to rub his success in the old man’s face. One drink at a time? Gil smirked. Pure amateur hour. Open up an unlimited tab, and all of a sudden, you were the most popular guy in the place. Gil kept the beer and liquor flowing, and the patrons had responded by sending the tidbits flowing back upstream. Tit for tat, baby. Tit for tat.
Once more, Gil was proving his superiority. He snapped his teeth together inside of his mouth with a satisfying clack.
But what the grizzled Aussie in front of him was saying brought Gil up short. “Describe them both again?” Gil probed.
“He was blond and tanned. Looked like a surfer. She had this awesome scorpion necklace and a body that could knock a Joey out in a boxing match. The bloke had a good right hook, sure enough. But his Sheila? Man, could she kick!” The Aussie drained the rest of his beer and looked meaningfully at the empty glass.
Gil waved for a refill. “And you’re sure they were headed away from the fields?”
The man belched, his head bobbing up and down. “Sure as sure. Thought to myself, ‘what’re they doin’ goin’ out that way?’” The Aussie slumped back into his drink, his story done and his energy fading along with it.
Gil opened up his vid link and connected with Talon. “Get the hovertrucks ready.”
Talon’s face, shrunk to fit the screen, perked up with that statement. “You found the Rogues?”
“Even better than that. Inform Moonbase that we’ll need some backup.”
The henchman’s expression fell at that. “Um… That’s a problem.”
“What do you mean?” Gil would brook no delays here. Not now that he was so close to whatever the Rogues and Mia were on to.
“Nickel Products was bought out by Amalgamated Industries last night, who sold American Justice to Cops R Us…” Talon continued, listing the mergers and acquisitions that had gotten them to their present straits, but Gil had stopped listening. This information was so yesterday’s news. His gaze had locked onto the old man with his protective unit. This was where the future was. At least for the moment.
“Looks like we just need to merge with another pack. Get everyone loaded.” Gil heard Talon confirm the order even as Gil was closing the link. He was on to bigger and better things.
Gil strolled over to the other side of the bar, seating himself in the chair next to the academic, who seemed less than thrilled about the new seating arrangement. Gil launched in without preamble.
“I’ve caught the scent of a major ‘kill,’ but I need more muscle to bring it down. Your muscle.”
The man…he had the haughty air of a scientist…demurred.
“I can assure you that I have no idea whatsoever about—”
“Does ‘mother lode’ ring any bells?” Gil wasn’t interested in some old guy being coy. He stopped the man’s excuses in order to cut right to the chase, just like a good predator should always do.
“Now. Take me to the man who jerks these guys’ leashes…” He indicated to the two poorly disguised soldiers to either side of the scientist. “… Or you can spend all afternoon explaining to Moonbase what you’re doing out here without clearance.”
The two men looked at one another before reaching for what Gil could only assume were concealed weapons. The older man laid a hand on each of them, shaking his head. He then turned back to Gil.
“Follow me.” The three men rose and walked across the bar toward the exit, drawing stares as they went.
Gil chuckled and mumbled to himself. “Like lambs to the slaughter.”
* * *
The time for whooping was over, and the time for finding some Star Diamonds had begun. Jarod followed right behind Mia as she calibrated the little black device. Everyone else was hot on Jarod’s heels. Finally, Mia pointed at a patch of smooth moondust.
“Here!”
Everyone dropped to their knees, including Mia, panning the dust, looking for glimmers of rainbows. Jarod swished the dust around in his pan, riffling his fingers through the dust. A bright gleam painted his face in color. He fished out the tiny diamond. As small as it was, it was the largest Jarod had seen up to this point. He called out, his voice cracking in his excitement.
“You’d better come see this!”
Everyone crowded around, awe clear on their faces. Even Buton showed a more-than-scholarly interest in the gemstone. Possessed by a sudden wicked impulse, Jarod tossed the stone at Buton, watching as the scientist clutched at the shard to keep from dropping it. Jarod cackled at him.
“That’s what fate looks like, buddy!”
Mia seemed to be picking up additional readings, as she darted off to a new area. “The sensors show more over here.”
The entire crew swarmed over the new area, panning furiously. Rob let out a whoop as he uncovered another diamond. Jarod grabbed him up in his arms, squeezing for all he was worth. Rob almost lost the gem in the hug and the two men had to bobble a bit to keep it safe. Jarod grinned at the boy and rubbed the top of his helmet, like he was ruffling his hair. Rob ducked and smirked back.
Mia was like some kind of deranged homing pigeon, now off in a third direction, calling out for everyone to follow.
“It’s still registering!” Her voice had gone up almost a full octave in her excitement.
Jarod called out to her. “Hang on, Mia. Wait for us!” He had to stifle a laugh as he watched Mia almost pitch herself down the hill in her enthusiasm.
He finally caught up to her as she began panning at the third site. He settled in next to her and starting working alongside her. He noticed her scorpion pendant swinging in time with her movements. She glanced up at him and practically glowed.
“Can you believe this?”
Jarod reached out a hand to stop her almost frenetic panning. “Mia, we need to talk.”
Mia cut off her action and laid down her pan. Her face was a mask.
“I was so excited…I forgot this isn’t even my stake.”
Jarod blinked at her, uncomprehending. Then he barked a laugh. “No, not about that. We’ll more than compensate you for your device.” They both started panning again. Jarod tried to find the right words for what he wanted to ask.
“I was going to…Um…Do you have a…” T
his was not going well. Dear God, where did his mojo go? “You know…Do you have a partner here?”
Mia’s panning slowed down to a near halt.
Jarod tried once more. “You came to the Moon alone?”
Mia shook her head, gazing off to the side where Jarod couldn’t see her expression. Her voice came out flat, emotionless.
“I needed a pilot and kind of talked this other grad student into it, but…” Mia turned her face back toward Jarod, tears glistening in her eyes. “She didn’t make it off the station.”
That wasn’t the answer Jarod had been looking for. He groped around, looking for the right words to say, but all he could think of was, “Oh, sorry…”
Mia shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but the glistening tracks down her cheeks told another story.
“So is she.”
* * *
Dr. Weigner faced off with Captain Stavros, ready to do battle. But Weigner acknowledged to himself that he and the captain were closer to having the same opinion than they ever had been before. The subject of their standoff, Gil, was off to one side, striving to look like he had no interest in what the men were saying to one another. Weigner knew differently. He had looked into the man’s eyes and seen his soul. What he saw there did not impress him.
The man did have his uses, however.
Stavros was not inclined to give the man the time of day. “Are we really going to waste our energy on some two-bit Moon scavenger?”
Weigner struggled with himself once more. His intellect, and some other unidentifiable feeling…were at war with one another. He agreed with the captain on his assessment of Gil. The man was not trustworthy. Nevertheless…
The doctor made the choice to go with his intellect. His knowledge and intelligence had always served him well in the past.
“As much as I am loath to admit it, Captain, you should hear this man out.”
Stavros held Weigner’s gaze for a long moment. Perhaps to others, the staring contest would have been uncomfortable. Luckily, Weigner had never been one to assign much import to social cues. He returned the stare, unperturbed.
At length, Stavros snapped a curt nod at Gil, who seemed to take this as a sign to step forward. The captain waved at the treasure hunter in a clear indication to speak.