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Hired Gun_Machete System Bounty Hunter

Page 15

by M. D. Cooper


  Otherwise, she was perfectly fine.

  Trey, for his part, had been completely oblivious to her unease during FTL. Or, if he had noticed, he’d said nothing about it.

  She checked the timing of their journey once more. The insystem traffic beacons listed the freighter Fitzmiller was on as being just a day out from Wadish. With this layover, there was no way they’d beat him to his destination, and no other ships were available to speed their journey along.

  Reece had resigned herself to arriving at Wadish a day after Fitzmiller. No amount of stressing about it would change that.

  As the Sophist’s Might docked at Tensu Station, which was connected to Usra via a single strand space elevator—something which didn’t give her warm fuzzies—Reece prepared for a day like the previous ones, with her doing a combination of relaxing and background reading.

  As she perused resources describing etiquette on Wadish, Trey entered the common area, with Dex rising on his shoulder.

  “Good morning.” He sounded awfully chipper.

  “Morning,” she answered absently, not wanting to be distracted from a section on proper greetings and goodbyes. For the most part, they were similar to what people did in Machete, but there were some differences in familial and professional practices. She wanted to be aware of those, so she’d be able to pick up on any differences or hidden cues.

  She wouldn’t be very effective if she couldn’t even assess a situation.

  “What do you say to a trip down to Usra?” Trey asked.

  She looked up from her reading. “Why would we do that? There are no leads to follow up down there.”

  “No,” Trey admitted, “But they do have these places called personal security stores, and I think you’d like to see one. Pick up some professional tools or whatever. Plus, I’m pretty sure you’re as eager as I am to stretch my legs and get some fresh air.”

  “I have no interest in stretching your legs,” she answered dryly.

  “Ha ha,” he said without humor. “But what do you say? Interested in seeing what they do for security in this system? You could call it background research. It won’t even take long, plenty of time to get down there and back up before the Sophist’s Might departs for Wadish.”

  As much as she wanted to remain unswayed, he had her number. The idea of getting her hands on some nifty weapons and also getting some insight into security systems on Wadish—and in Eashira in general—was too enticing to pass up.

  Plus, she preferred wide open skies and air that came from a natural atmosphere. Ideally, it would be scented with the smell of growing agriculture.

  She sighed. “Fine. If you’re determined to go down there, I’d better go with you to make sure you make it back up here in time.”

  Rather than take offense at the slight on his ability to be responsible, he grinned. “Whatever you have to tell yourself.”

  She sent him a dirty look. “I’ll go get ready. I assume you want to leave as soon as possible, since time is limited.”

  “It’s like you’re reading my mind.”

  She scowled at him. Though he’d said it genuinely enough, he was definitely making fun of her.

  “I liked it better when I was in charge,” she said.

  “Don’t go if you don’t want to.” He shrugged one shoulder, keeping the other one still for Dex’s sake. “I just thought you’d like to,” Trey said.

  “Yeah. I do. I guess. This security store had better be good, though,” she warned before retreating to her room.

  * * * * *

  “This place is awesome,” Reece breathed.

  She stood surrounded by a hundred cubic meters of weapons, security systems, and monitoring equipment.

  “I knew you’d like it.” Trey wore a self-satisfied look that would have annoyed her if she weren’t enchanted by her surroundings.

  The woman behind the waist-high case made of durable plas wore a smile of satisfaction. “Where are you from?”

  “Machete system.” She moved closer so she could examine the goods in the case.

  “Aha. They’re pretty restrictive on weapons. A shame. I’d love to do some export business there, but there’s not enough of a market to justify the costs. And the regulation fees would bankrupt me.”

  Reece edged to her left, admiring all the items in the counter, but her eye snagged on a flechette rifle.

  “Even if it were a good market,” she noted absently, “the corporations would tax you to the point that you’d barely break even. If there’s a commercial market for something, the corporations will already be there.”

  “Yeah. Kind of a messed-up system, if you ask me,” the woman said. “No offense.”

  Reece smiled professionally. In her opinion, her world would not be better if everyone could walk around with guns. She’d almost certainly be without a job, and her quiet little neighborhood probably wouldn’t be so quiet. But she said, “Fortunately for me, I’m one of the few allowed to have weapons.”

  The woman brightened. “That’s good news. As long as you have your credentials, I can sell to you. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to. OFA Interstellar trade law and all that.”

  Disdain oozed from her words.

  Reece connected to the store’s network and passed her authorizations over the Link.

  “Reece, OK,” the woman nodded. “Ahh, Rexcare.” Her tone didn’t indicate her opinion of the company.

  “Yup,” Reece replied. “What’s your name, by the way?”

  “Tazmin. Looks like you check out, Reece.”

  “That’s me, all on the up and up. What can you tell me about this one?”

  She tapped the class above the flechette rifle.

  “Nasty bit, there. Flashy and exciting, but it has some drawbacks. What you’re looking at there is a large-caliber long-range rifle, capable of piercing a vehicle whether that be to damage the engine or to take out a human target. If not killed outright, the target is likely to bleed out from massive tissue damage. Using it close-range is a bad idea, unless you want to take a blood and tissue shower.”

  Reece grimaced. “I’ll pass on that. I’d hate to ruin my jacket.”

  Tazmin grinned and moved to the left, reaching into the counter for a handgun. “Now this also fires flechettes, but they’re tiny. Biodarts. You can load them with a number of agents that range from sedative to lethal. Or, my personal favorite, you can load them with a tracker. Until that person has that baby surgically removed, you’ll see exactly where the intruder is going. Around here, that’s the best way to find out what clan your perpetrator is from.”

  “You have a lot of kidnappings here, right?” She hoped that wasn’t a rude question.

  Tazmin nodded agreeably. “Sure do. Most of the time, no one gets hurt. It’s really about a show of power, or getting back at another clan. It’s how negotiations and treaties are enacted.”

  As much as Reece liked weapons, that sounded like a pretty screwed up bargaining system. “I assume you carry the biodarts?”

  “Yeah, all kinds. But if you decide to buy, make sure you stock up. I can’t ship even the flechette to Machete. Only direct purchase, with credentials.”

  “Interstellar trade law,” Reece finished for her.

  “Yup.”

  Strictly speaking, she didn’t need the flechette gun. She had her pulse pistol, and it was good for nonlethal stopping power. But she didn’t have a long-range way of tagging someone with a tracker. Most importantly, the flechette gun was cool, and would look nice in her weapon closet.

  “Can I hold it?” She’d learned long ago to always ask first.

  “Of course.”

  She lifted it, and immediately loved its feel. The balance and smooth contours were perfect.

  “Almost no recoil, and significant muzzle velocity for such a short barrel,” Tazmin added.

  Reece didn’t need to be courted anymore. She wanted this gun for her collection. Being too eager would get her seriously overcharged, though. She set the weapon back on
the counter.

  “It’s nice,” Reece said evenly. “Anything else I should check out before I go? My friend and I are only on a short layover.” She looked to Trey, who stood silently a few paces away.

  “Depends on your needs,” Tazmin said, not removing the flechette pistol from the top of the case. “Are you thinking more of firepower, or of surveillance and security?”

  “What would I be wise to have when traveling through this system and doing business planetside?”

  “Which planet?” she asked.

  Reece didn’t intend to give her any clues about her business, or Rexcare’s. “Depends on where our work takes us.”

  “I see. Hmm.” Tazmin put her hand to her chin. “Well, nothing that requires installation, obviously. Only portable devices. Since you have a pulse pistol and I assume other weapons, what you’ll need is bodily security.”

  She snapped her fingers. “I know what you won’t have.” Grinning, she bent low, disappearing from view.

  Reece leaned over the case to look down at the proprietor, but the woman was already rising to her feet.

  “Here you go.” She put a pair of metal bracelets on the counter.

  “What are these?” Reece frowned, not touching what appeared to be two very plain pieces of jewelry.

  “Shock bracelets. The pair of them essentially electrifies your body. If another source of bioelectricity makes contact with you, they’ll complete the circuit and get a nasty jolt.

  Reece frowned. “Won’t that zap me, too?”

  “You’d get the equivalent of a static electricity shock. They’d get something more like a light hit from a pulse pistol.”

  “I like it,” she said. “Any caveats?”

  “Not really. They’re quite safe. You can even shower in them. Just be sure to warn people before they touch you, unless you want to knock them on their asses. And, of course, deactivate them for spaceflight. Certain kinds of electromagnetic fields could accidentally give you a shock instead.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.” She’d been almost convinced to buy them.

  “Planetside, you’ll have no worries. Parents put them on their children all the time.”

  “Yeah?” She looked to Trey, who nodded.

  “What’s the price?” She didn’t care that much, since she could directly bill the bracelets to Rexcare. The flechette gun was more of a personal purchase, so its price concerned her far more.

  “Four hundred credits a pair.”

  “Okay, two pairs then. No, make it three,” she decided.

  It paid to have a spare.

  “What kind of deal can you make me on the flechette gun, along with the bracelets?” Reece asked.

  “Depends on how many darts you’re buying for it. We can do a package deal.”

  They went back and forth, finally settling on a price, which was reasonable. She’d paid far more for her Rikulf Specials.

  After transferring the funds and securing her purchases, she gave the store a final look before leaving.

  “I wish I could shop someplace like this on a regular basis,” she sighed wistfully to Trey as they left.

  “You can,” he pointed out. “It’s just a week away from Akon. You could take a little vacation now and then to come shop the security store.”

  She handed him the package with his bracelets, which he tucked in a pocket. “Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

  It was almost a tempting idea.

  Almost.

  * * * * *

  Reece expected to return to their ship, but Trey’s instructions to their taxi driver didn’t sound like the way back to the space elevator. After all she’d heard about the Eashira System, she didn’t feel particularly awesome about riding in a taxi.

  Because she didn’t want the driver—an actual human, no less—to overhear her, she activated her overlays and very quietly whispered a message.

 

  After a brief pause, he smirked.

  Reece asked.

 

  He meant that to be encouraging, but she didn’t feel encouraged.

  She didn’t think anything could top the security store, but maybe Trey wanted to show her something that would be useful when they arrived on Wadish to follow Fitzmiller and find out who he was working with.

  Trey smiled.

  She frowned.

  He kept smiling.

  Reece made a show of narrowing her eyes at him, but secretly, she thought he was rather amusing. She kept up a mildly surly demeanor, though, just to keep him from being too pleased with himself.

  Where could he be taking her? A sporting event? She wasn’t really into sports. Maybe a play or a music festival? She didn’t much care for those, either. Whatever it was, he clearly expected it to be fun, but she didn’t know what that meant to him.

  For all she knew, he’d find it fun to take off his shoes and socks and do foot painting in some hipster nature sanctuary.

  She had nothing against art or nature, but if he told her to take her shoes off, she was headed back to the space station as fast as a cab would take her.

  At least the ride was pleasant enough. Smooth, without the jarring stop-start traffic of some cities. As they went, she watched the buildings shift from having only one or two floors to having dozens. Foot traffic increased, too, giving her the opportunity to watch people going about their daily lives.

  When the car stopped and deposited them in front of a skyscraper, she had to tilt her head back to see all the way up. The sun had begun to sink below the horizon, causing myriad colored lights on the surrounding towers to activate.

  Trey got out of the taxi after paying the driver.

  “What do the lights mean?” she asked.

  “Different things. The blue and red ones are for drones, to let them know where they can and can’t go. The rest are decorative, or intended to be a light source.” He pointed to the skyscraper. “Ready to go in, or should we just stand here and look at it?”

  “What’s in there?” she asked.

  “The whole city.” He started walking toward the front door.

  That seemed unlikely, but she followed. Maybe he was speaking metaphorically. Or maybe he thought everything worth seeing in this city was inside the building.

  Intriguing.

  She followed him to an elevator, but other than the fact that people tended to wear unusually bright colors, she saw nothing particularly noteworthy.

  The elevator was dull, too. And the ride long. Apparently, whatever he wanted to show her was on the highest floor. It made for the longest elevator ride of her life.

  Well, barring the ones going up to space stations.

  “They should put chairs in here,” she said. “The taxi to get here was shorter.”

  “I didn’t realize you were so impatient. I thought you were inhumanly patient, with all the hours you spend poring over details and research. I’m glad to learn that you’re like the rest of us after all.”

  “Work’s one thing. I like to be thorough. But standing in a little box gets boring really fast.”

  He leaned against the wall. “You’re not claustrophobic, are you?”

  “Nah. It’s not the size. It’s the lack of things to do.”

  “You could check your messages and stuff on your overlays,” he suggested
.

  “I have an instant alert in case something important comes in.”

  “Really? You just keep an indicator in your vision all the time? That’d drive me nuts.”

  She shrugged. “It’s never bothered me. Sometimes I have several things running in my vision. I just keep it off to the sides.”

  “I’ll keep a timer or something up if I need do, but that’s about it.”

  “Really?” That surprised her. “I thought that since you have synthetic eyes, you’d have more ability to multi-task with in-view functions.”

  “Nah.” Trey shrugged. “I could, but I like to use my eyes for seeing the world around me.”

  She turned toward him, studying his eyes. “Those lenses are really good. I can’t tell you have synthetics, even though I’m looking for some telltale sign. Have they given you any trouble?”

  “Not yet. Unless you count having to lock up my eye drops and stuff so Dex doesn’t steal it. Actually, I lock up a lot of stuff these days. Just putting something in a drawer isn’t enough.”

  She smiled. “It’s nice of you to take care of him.”

  “He keeps me company. I like having him around. He’s really funny sometimes, too. Last night, I was about to go to bed when I heard a weird sound. I went to see what it was and found him rolling around, trying to get a sock off his head.”

  “How did he get his head stuck in a sock?” The mental image of Dex that way made her chuckle.

  “He’s very curious, so he probably wondered if something was in there.”

  “My cat Rio likes to climb into drawers if I leave them open. He’s accidentally gotten closed in a couple times.”

  “Animals are fun,” he said with a wry twist to his lips.

  “They can be.”

  Silence fell between them, but she was still thinking about his eyes. He didn’t talk about them much, but she was curious. She’d never personally known anyone who had synthetics.

  “What was it like to get your eyes replaced?” she asked.

  “Kind of scary,” he admitted. “I mean, you know they can replace them, but there’s something instinctive about protecting your eyes, you know? It really started to hit me on the ride to the clinic. Then it was hard sitting in the waiting room and it was even worse getting my pre-surgical exam. There was this constant urge to leave, to forget about it all. But the process was easy. I went to sleep, then woke up with incredible vision.”

 

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