A Deal with the Devil's Broker

by Steve Ruskin

  Jeral’s harness had kept him inside his suit when he fell, but he was gasping for breath over the comm. The fall must have knocked the wind out of him. He started to roll his mech from side to side in an effort to get up off the floor.

  Noemi ran over, her mech’s makeshift club raised high again. Jeral was part way up now. She swung her arm down, again and again, beating the metal ribcage of Jeral’s mech until it was forced back down, flat on its back on the cargo bay floor.

  Jeral cried out, “Stop!”

  But she didn’t.

  She pummeled his mech’s legs—the knee and ankle joints—ensuring it couldn’t get up again.

  Finally, panting from the effort, she released the iron bar and extended her machine’s arms downward, pinning Jeral’s mech to the ground with her own, her mech’s torso right above his.

  Leaning over him, they were nearly visor to visor. If she unharnessed, she would drop right on top of him.

  “Uh oh, Jeral. It seems you’ve ruined Auntie Mayve’s handbag.”

  His voice was shaky. “Noemi? How’d you get in here? I thought you were confined to Habitat.”

  “I got a new coat. Got my fingers fixed up, too.”

  His voice feigned friendliness. “Great! I’m glad you’re better—”

  She cut him off. “Yeah, I bet you are. I heard you bought my debt so I’d be indentured to you.”

  “No way! I—”

  “Save it. Mayve already told me.”

  “She did? Where is she?”

  “I had her sedated. After she told me everything.”

  “Sedated? When? How did you get in her suit?”

  “You really aren’t that bright, are you? It was me in Braddock’s suit the entire time.”

  He was silent for a few seconds. Then he said, “You’re outnumbered here, Noemi.”

  She looked up. Kett’s and Mackie’s mechs were just returning from the OZ Geo ship’s hold.

  She knew Jeral had called them. “Put us all on the same comm channel.”

  He said nothing. She brought her mech’s left claw up to his helmet. “Do it. Or I crush your visor, and you die.”

  Kett and Mackie were coming closer, hurrying. She opened her mech’s claw wide.

  “Don’t push me, Jeral.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  She pressed the tips of the claw’s open pincers against his tinted faceplate and slowly squeezed them together. Through the comm link, she heard the scraping sound of metal on polymer, and saw his faceplate bending slightly inward. There was a crack, and a jagged line appeared.

  He yelled, panic in his voice. “Okay! Okay!” A second later, he said, “We’re all on the same channel now.”

  She heard Kett and Mackie breathing heavily over the comm. They’d been working hard—for once.

  “Hi, boys. Miss me?”

  Their mechs stopped ten meters away.

  “That really is Noemi, boss!” Kett said.

  “Told you,” Jeral grumbled.

  “Useless bitch!” Mackie growled. He never liked female lifters. Based on his choice of entertainment vids, mostly porn, that he watched when off duty, she figured his primitive mind could only imagine a handful of uses for women, anyway.

  “It’s nice to see you again, too. You know, you’re probably the worst teammates I’ve ever had. But since we’re all on the same channel now, let’s get something clear. Mayve isn’t leaving this ship, and neither are you. Sector police will be here soon.” That was a bluff—a best guess. “Until then, I want each of you to stay put.”

  Mackie laughed the loudest. But it was dim-witted Kett who did the math. “Boss?”—Kett had always called Jeral boss, and now she knew why—“There’s three of us and one of her.”

  “Right,” Mackie said. “And she’s a girl.” He brought his mech forward one tentative step.

  Noemi bristled. “I said don’t move.”

  Mackie ignored her. “Let’s get her, Kett.”

  Their mechs surged forward.

  “Hurry! Before she cracks my helmet!” Jeral whined.

  Damn, Noemi thought. The truth was she didn’t want to kill Jeral. That would make her a murderer, too. She wanted him to see justice.

  She had to bluff harder.

  With her right hand, she reached into her pocket and drew out the flechette gun. Kett and Mackie were now close enough to see it.

  She aimed it at Jeral’s chest. “One more step, and I’ll shoot him.”

  Their mechs stopped.

  Mackie growled. “You’re bluffing, girl.”

  Jeral gulped. “Where’d you get that gun, Noemi?”

  “Off Mayve. And she told me you each had one, too, stolen from the security team she murdered. You still have them?”

  Their voices overlapped.

  “No.”

  “Nope!”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “You’re terrible liars. Drop ’em, or Jeral dies.”

  She could practically hear their minds whirring.

  “Boss … ?” Kett said after a few tense seconds.

  “Don’t test me,” Noemi warned. “I saw what you did to the others out there. I know you have the guns. Now throw them down.” With her free hand, she began to undo the straps of her harness.

  “Noemi, wait. We can bring you in on this deal—” Jeral started.

  “Not interested.” She waved her gun around for effect. “Last chance. What’s it going to be?”

  There was a long pause, then Mackie said, “I ain’t gonna take this shit from her.”

  His hands came out of his mech’s controls, and tugged at the fat zippers on his zero-atmo suit’s chest pocket.

  The time for bluffing had passed.

  In a flash, Noemi undid the rest of her harness and dropped out of her mech, landing on top of Jeral’s chest and squeezing inside his mech’s ribcage. Jeral grunted, and she wedged herself next to him.

  His mech’s metal frame provided only minimal cover, but she made herself small and aimed her flechette gun at Mackie, who was now pointing his gun at Jeral’s mech.

  “Careful, Mackie!” Kett cried. “You might hit Jeral.”

  Mackie leveled his gun anyway. “I won’t. Watch.”

  Jeral howled. “Mackie, you idiot—”

  Noemi always was the fastest member of her team. She fired.

  Ceramic shards split the fabric of Mackie’s zero-atmo suit in three places. Blood spurted from his chest, only to freeze instantly into icy globules that clattered onto the floor and rolled like marbles.

  Mackie’s breath came in gasps over the comm. A second later, he slumped forward in his harness, his suit turning a telltale shade of purple. No longer receiving any input, the running lights of his mech dimmed and the machine shifted forward to its shutdown stance, causing Mackie’s body to sag macabrely in the harness, his own arms hanging out limply.

  Kett stammered. “She killed him!”

  Noemi turned her pistol on Kett. She was shaking. “I’ll shoot you, too, if you don’t throw down your gun, Kett.”

  This time, Kett quickly obliged. When he had tossed his gun on the floor, she patted down Jeral until she felt the bulge of his weapon in a chest pocket. Next to it was a pair of small metal cylinders, each as long as her hand. She pulled one out.

  It was a pinger—a small, encoded transmitter used to keep track of cargo moving from bay to bay and ship to station so sellers and buyers could track their shipments and confirm deliveries.

  “Is this what you were tossing into the trash chute?” She held one up to his visor.

  “What are you talking about? I had no idea those were there.”

  “Except they’re right next to your gun in the pocket of your own zero-atmo suit. Kind of hard to miss, don’t you think?”

  “Noemi, I—”

  She cut him off.

  “You’re a bastard, Jeral. You weren’t throwing up in the trash chute. You were planting pingers to give away our position.”

  He laughed ne
rvously. “That’s crazy, Noemi. Pingers are short-range transmitters.”

  “Yeah. But if a nearby ship knew to listen for it, they could detect it. Right? Especially if it was just jettisoned right outside our hull.”

  “That’s not what’s going on. I swear!”

  She shoved the barrel of her gun into his side, pushing hard so he could feel it. “I’m sick of the lies, Jeral. I want the truth.”

  “Okay, fine. I was dropping a pinger into the trash. Okay?”

  “Why’d you fall in?”

  “You startled me, coming up from behind like that, and I dropped it down the chute before I could activate it. I had no choice but to go in after it. I didn’t have any other pingers with me at the time. The OZ Geo ships were waiting for us to dump the tailings and trash. Mayve would’ve killed me if I messed up.”

  “You almost were killed, in case you hadn’t noticed. You and your aunt’s relationship—or whatever she is to you—is what’s messed up. You know that?”

  Thoughtfully, Noemi rolled the pinger in her hand for a few seconds and then put it back in his chest pocket. She pulled out his gun and tossed it aside. Kett was still in his mech, unmoving, no doubt waiting to see what happened to Jeral.

  “I ought to kill you both for what you did to Braddock and the others. You aren’t even real lifters, are you?” She prodded Jeral with the gun again while Kett made a pathetic whimpering noise.

  “Get a grip, Kett,” Jeral spat. “You’re sniveling in front of a woman, for God’s sake!”

  “If you don’t start answering my questions, you’ll be sniveling, too,” Noemi said.

  “Fine. We’re not real lifters, okay?” Jeral snapped. “We got some basic mech training so we could pass as lifters when Mayve got us hired onto the Devil’s Broker. Before that, I worked with her at OZ Geo corporate.”

  “So my teammates who I wanted so badly to accept me are really just a bunch of hired thieves and killers. Well, I think it’s time for me to become a real part of that team. What do you say?”

  “Please, Noemi,” Jeral pleaded. “I was just doing what Mayve told me to. I swear I didn’t want to shoot the others.”

  “Bullshit! You already told me, when you thought you were talking to Mayve, that it was easier just to kill them. You are a worthless piece of space trash. I should have let you get ejected with the rest of it. Maybe I’ll finish this now.”

  The prospect of his own death made Jeral think quickly. “Wait! Think about it, Noemi. Even if you kill me and Kett, you’re still going to be indentured. Your contract was legitimate, and System law will just sell your debt off to someone else. Hell, you might end up being accused of having murdered everyone. You just shot Mackie, after all. It’ll be your word against Mayve’s.”

  Noemi paused. She hadn’t thought of that and she could tell he sensed her hesitation.

  “Let me go. Come with us. After this heist, I’ll be rich. I have a place all ready picked out on New Carthage. You said you always wanted to go there.”

  “On my own terms, Jeral. Not as your personal slave.”

  “At least one of those options is a guaranteed ticket.”

  She leaned down until her faceplate touched his. “Not anymore. Don’t forget who’s holding the gun.”

  “C’mon, Noemi. Come with me. You’ll have a better life. I’ll wipe your debt, get you a cushy job with OZ Geo.”

  She couldn’t deny that sounded enticing. To walk on a planet’s surface, under real skies, feeling actual wind …

  “What do you say, Noemi? I’ve read your file. You’ve come from nothing. That’s why I hired you—I didn’t think you’d be any trouble. I can see now that you’re smart. You’d be a real asset.”

  After a few seconds, she said, “I know we’re all just watching our own backs out here. But hell and starlight, Jeral! You’re asking me to become like you. And you’re nothing but a spoiled little inner-zone, wanna-be princeling. What you did to Braddock and the others was cold-blooded murder. All for a little profit. No thanks. I think I’ll kill you, after all, and take my chances.”

  “My family would put a bounty on your head so high every spacer in the outer zone would be hunting you!”

  “Maybe I’ll shoot you and say Kett did it. Wanted all the platinum for himself. Then I’ll I shoot him. In self defense, of course.”

  “Me?” Kett yelped. “Boss, tell her—”

  Just then, another voice came over the general comm. The Q-ship’s captain.

  “My scanners say we’ve got incoming. Sector patrol ships. You’ve got three minutes before I detach, with or without you.”

  Kett turned his mech toward the Q-ship. Noemi fired a round at his feet. Shards and sparks sprayed around him. “Don’t even think about it, Kett.”

  “But that pilot said we have to go!”

  “Not with him you’re not.”

  She used her free hand to pull herself back up into her mech. It lit up again when she strapped in. She stepped her mech backward a few paces to where she could see both of them.

  “Climb out of your mechs, both of you.”

  They did.

  “Good. Kett, stand over here by Jeral.”

  When they stood before her, Kett wailed. “Please don’t kill us, Noemi.”

  “I’m going to let you both make a choice. But if you take one step onto the other ship, you take your chances as a wanted criminal. And you have to live with your conscience.”

  Jeral was running toward the Q-ship before she even finished, the folds of his zero-atmo suit bouncing up and down like extra skin.

  Surprisingly, however, Kett stayed. “I didn’t shoot Braddock or any of the others, Noemi. It was Jeral and Mackie. The cameras will show it.”

  “Mayve wiped the vids, Kett.”

  “Oh.” He sounded utterly defeated. “I still didn’t do it.”

  A minute later, Jeral disappeared into the OZ Geo ship’s hold. Lights around the docking collar flashed red.

  They heard the pilot’s voice. “One minute!”

  Kett’s helmet turned back and forth between the departing Q-ship and the interior of the Broker. Noemi was sure he was going to change his mind.

  He stayed.

  Noemi turned and looked across the bay. The docking collar was now solid red. The OZ Geo ship detached, taking Jeral with it. The sudden pressure differential in the cargo bay pulled her against her harness, but her mech’s magnetic feet kept her anchored.

  She reached out with her mech’s claw and let Kett grab it to steady himself.

  She saw the departing ship’s fuselage only briefly, its metal skin star-pocked with micro impacts. She noticed a scrubbed area, no doubt where some identifying mark had been removed.

  And then it was gone, leaving only a shrinking panorama of empty space through the closing doors of the Broker’s outer hull. She glimpsed starlight. Then the doors shut. They waited long minutes in silence as the bay repressurized.

  Finally, Kett, his feet steady beneath him once more, walked over to the interior cargo bay doors and pressed a panel. The doors opened.

  Her gun still out, Noemi followed him back inside the Garage.

  12

  Second Star

  It took three days for a tug to tow the Devil’s Broker to Cassius. During the trip, the crew remained in their quarters, while sector patrols kept the entire ship locked down as a crime scene.

  Noemi, however, was allowed to stay in the Helm. She had a fantastic view.

  From a distance, twenty or so kilometers out, Cassius looked like a giant top spinning endlessly in space: a long, vertical habitat spindle intersecting with a horizontal docking ring at one end.

  They docked.

  Inside, Cassius Station was just like Tiber Station. Even the cargo bays and gangways and wide-open pedestrian galleries of Cassius looked like Tiber, although her initial impressions were little more than a blur of hurrying bodies and humming transport bots as she was hustled along cold metal corridors and into a series of
fluorescent-lit elevators before finally being deposited in some nondescript debriefing room in the station’s Port Authority offices.

  That was where she spent the next four hours, sitting on hard plastic chairs behind a small metal desk and enduring interview after interview from various authorities, both government and corporate.

  At least it was heated. She shed her techsuit and relaxed, actually enjoying the bad coffee they offered her. While she waited between interrogations, she thought about their rescue from the derelict Broker.

  Kett had been sedated like Mayve, and when the sector police finally arrived, they quickly took the two into custody.

  At first, everyone was a suspect. But then Captain Hunt and his officers were freed from the Helm. He’d looked both angry and sheepish as he told the police everything.

  The carnage in the Garage remained untouched, waiting to be gone over by investigators after they reached Cassius. It was cold enough in there to keep the bodies from decomposing.

  And Noemi was confined to Habitat along with everyone else for the duration of the trip to Cassius.

  Now, she sat behind the desk, answering questions for the sector police, then the Port Authority agents, and finally investigators from ExoRok itself. Turns out Braddock had rigged his own camera system for the entire Cargo module. He clearly never trusted Mayve. His vids confirmed Noemi’s story.

  Eventually, the questioning stopped. They brought her food, and let her watch with them on another monitor as the sector patrol ships caught up with Jeral and the OZ Geo Q-ship on the dark side of some crater-pocked asteroid. A figure in a mech was stashing crates into a cave on the asteroid’s surface.

  “That’s the same ship?” someone asked her.

  “Looks like it. Same scrubbed patch on the hull that I saw when they left.”

  Ten minutes later, they confirmed the faint pinger signal she told them they’d find coming from Jeral’s pocket. Twenty minutes later, Jeral was in custody.

  Then there were a few more questions, sworn statements, some forms to sign on various tablets, and finally a visit from a representative of ExoRok’s human resources department.