by Zen DiPietro
“What, like presents?”
“I was thinking more like merchandise for your shop, but if there are presents, you should probably give them to their recipients as soon as possible.” Her brilliant blue eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Hm, I did get something for Benny on the night janitorial crew. I bet he’d appreciate receiving it sooner.”
She laughed. “I didn’t know you and Benny were so close.”
“Sure,” he said. “He’s the one that usually cleans the boardwalk when someone comes through a docking bay with a bad stomach after a spaceflight.”
She made a face. “Ew.”
“Yes. A mess outside your shop is bad for business.”
She studied him, trying to decide if he was actually serious about having bought Benny a gift after all.
“I’ll show it to you. Benny won’t mind. One moment.” He stepped into his bedroom and retrieved a shallow square box from his dresser. The package for Pigie with the ludicrously expensive hair comb remained carefully nestled inside.
“What is it?” Nix asked when he emerged.
“Look and see.” He handed her the box.
She opened it, prodded the gift with her finger, and said, “Wow.”
Inside the box was a chain with a pendant shaped like Jamestown. It was the sort of thing only a young person, or a wildly patriotic PAC citizen, would wear.
“It’s not for Benny,” he said. “It’s yours.”
She let out a funny little sound that was a cross between a whoop and a squeal that reminded him of the sound his parents’ pet cat made when he tried to pat its head.
The chain almost instantaneously appeared around her neck. “A Jamestown necklace, from Jamestown. Thanks, Cabot!”
“You’re quite welcome.”
“What was it like there?” Her eyes were wide with anticipation.
“For me, kind of boring. When you get there, I’m sure you’ll love it. Jamestown is a very attractive station. Oh, and guess who I saw?”
“Who?” she asked.
“Wren. She changed her hair, and looked very cute. She’s happy.”
A look of sadness came over her. “I’ve missed her. I’m glad she’s happy there, though.”
“Everyone has to move on at some point. In just a year or two, you’ll be leaving us for the academy. Think how we’ll feel then!”
She nodded. “Yeah. Change is just hard sometimes, that’s all. I promise when I go, I’ll keep in touch on the voicecom and visit whenever I can.”
More likely, she’d get caught up in her new life, which was how it should be. But he nodded in agreement.
The chime to his quarters sounded, and he wondered who it could be. Nix was the only person who regularly visited his quarters. Fallon paid a visit now and then, but mostly, his quarters were his private, quiet sanctum. He liked it that way.
“What’s taking so long?” Nagali barged in, as she liked to do, then came to a sudden stop when she saw Nix. “Who’s this?”
She looked confused.
“Nagali, this is my daughter, Nix.” He put a hand on the teen’s shoulder.
Nagali’s face made a funny expression, halfway between disbelief and confusion with just a little anger mixed in.
Nix giggled. “Nixabrin Maringo, future PAC security officer.”
“My condolences,” Nagali said. “I’ve spent too much time with those recently. Dreadfully boring creatures.”
Nix laughed. “And your name is?”
“Cheeky thing, aren’t you?” Nagali looked amused. “I’m Nagali. Cabot’s wife.”
Now Nix was the one looking uncertain about whether Nagali was serious or making the same kind of joke Cabot had.
“We were once married,” Cabot admitted. “But haven’t been in a long time.”
“Wow.” Nix looked at Nagali like she was a holo-vid star. “I bet you have some stories to tell.”
“I certainly do. Maybe I’ll tell you a story or two while I’m here,” Nagali said.
“I’m not so sure her parents would appreciate that,” Cabot said quickly. As glad as he was to see Nix, he suddenly wanted to shoo her out, away from Nagali.
“He’s probably right,” Nix sighed. “Though if you happen to visit the food court, and I happen to be there at the time, and I happen to sit near you…” she trailed off meaningfully.
Nagali laughed.
“Anyway,” Nix said, “I should be going. I’m glad you’re back, Mr. Layne, and it was nice to meet you Ms…um, Nagali.”
When Nix was gone, Nagali laughed again. “I don’t generally like young people because they’re boring and stupid, but I kind of like that one.”
Cabot took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What can I do for you? Did you get tired of the station already?”
“Not yet, but I’m starved. You said an hour. You’re late.”
At least that was a real reason. “Right. Apologies. We can go now. Any idea what you’d like?”
“What’s good?” she asked as they exited his quarters and walked down to the corridor.
“Everything. The Bennite place is really good. The Tea Leaf has great tea, but also good food. Soups and sandwiches. And if you like Briveen food, Dragonfire serves mandren that Brak raves about.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t mind the dried stuff on a stick, but actual mandren steak is not something I learned to tolerate while I was on Briv. The smell nauseates me.”
“I don’t care for it either,” he admitted. “There’s a place that has other kinds of steak, though.”
“What about pasta? Really thick noodles with vegetables and a sticky brown sauce.”
“The pub should have something like that. If not, they should be able to whip something up.” He smiled pleasantly at a person passing them going the other way.
Nagali ignored the person. “That sounds like our place, then. And Omar loves a pub, so I think this will be a fun evening.”
Cabot grimaced. He hadn’t thought about the hazards of having Omar in a pub. He was as likely to organize a singalong as he was to start a fistfight. He enjoyed both.
“We’ll keep him in line. Don’t worry.” She patted his arm.
He chuckled.
“What?” she asked.
“It’s just that he’s usually the one promising to keep you in line.”
She snorted derisively, but then chuckled. “We’re going to have some fun here.”
He hoped she meant that as a comfort rather than a threat.
5
“What do you think?”
Cabot had placed the Atalan bowl he’d bought at the bazaar on Dauntless on a display shelf in his store. After a little minor cleanup, it looked lovely. It was a fine piece of decorative crockery from about a hundred years ago.
“It’s nice,” Nagali said. “Not old enough to interest me, though.”
He smiled at her self-centeredness. “Just as well, since it wasn’t intended for you. But I bet somebody who has fled Atalus would love to come across this little touch of home. Such things rarely survive such a move.”
She looked at it again. “I’m sure you’re right. That’s nice of you.”
She continued around the shop, giving each item more scrutiny than the average person would. No doubt she was placing a value on each item and wondering how much profit he intended to make.
“Your inventory is varied and interesting,” she said after she’d examined everything on display. “But you could increase your profits by focusing on items with a better markup. Some things here aren’t worth much.”
“That’s true. But most of my profits come from custom orders or bulk deals. The things on display here are for the pleasure of the people here.”
“Loss leaders?” she asked, moving behind the counter at the back of the shop.
He’d dismissed his assistant, who had been pleased with the unexpected time off. Nico might work out as a long-term employee. Cabot had had doubts, but he hadn’t yet spotted any
embezzlement or missing inventory. Of course, he had yet to inspect his storeroom.
“Something like that,” he agreed. He wasn’t sure Nagali would understand his desire to see to the needs of the people on Dragonfire, or how he felt that was how he contributed to the community.
Or worse, maybe she would, which would mark him as a softie. Either way, it was better she thought his business practices were purely professional.
“No doubt a location like this puts you in touch with a lot of contacts,” she said thoughtfully.
“I suppose,” he answered cautiously, not sure what she was getting at.
She smiled. “Don’t look so suspicious. I’m just trying to imagine living and working someplace like this. Don’t you get tired of all the regulations?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “They can be overzealous sometimes. But they’re in place for the purpose of safety and fairness, so I understand why they exist.”
He didn’t mention that he knew the regulations inside and out, and knew exactly how to skirt them and which bits had no leeway. He didn’t want to give her any ideas.
“Well, it’s a nice shop.” She skimmed a hand across the counter. “Do you get bored here?”
“I really don’t. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re not young kids anymore. I’ve been quite satisfied to be comfortable here, run a good business, and enjoy what I’ve earned.”
She leaned forward, resting her face in her hands. “I guess I could see that. For a while, at least. I think I’d get bored, though.”
He said, not unkindly, “You’ve never been one to grow deep roots. You thrive on new things.”
“I guess that’s why we had to go different ways.” She heaved a sigh.
“Definitely.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, if you had to choose a mundane life, this seems like a nice one.”
He chuckled. “You’re still excellent with backhanded compliments.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
They smiled at each other. A comfortable feeling of mutual understanding passed between them.
It was nice.
Then Chief Triss entered the shop, saving Cabot from saying or doing something foolish.
“Good to see you back, Cabot,” the security chief said.
“It’s good to be back,” Cabot said. “I didn’t realize it was already time for your rounds.”
“Yup. I try to maintain the schedule whenever I can.”
Nagali approached, giving a polite bow. “Nice to meet you. I’m Nagali.”
Arin bowed to her. “Glad to meet any friend of Cabot’s. I hope you’re enjoying your stay here.”
She laughed. “It’s funny how often I’ve heard that. It’s quite a change from what I’m used to. I can see how people find PAC stations relaxing.”
“I take it you don’t visit them very often?” Arin asked.
“Not very,” she admitted. “My business takes me elsewhere.”
“Ah.” He nodded politely, but Cabot was certain Arin had pegged Nagali as someone to watch. Though, for all Cabot knew, Arin already had her under watch, either due to his own awareness of station visitors or Fallon’s warning.
“Well, I’m in charge of security around here, so if you have any difficulties, be sure to let my staff know.”
A helpful suggestion or a warning that nothing went unnoticed on Dragonfire? It could be either. Or both.
Nagali smiled, though. “Thank you. I will.”
“I’ve got to move on, but I hope you two have a nice day.” Arin bowed again, then was gone.
“They don’t make them like that on a mercenary station,” Nagali said, staring after him. “As gorgeous as it gets, and looking so proper in that uniform. If I was a decade younger…” she made a clucking sound of regret.
Cabot kindly refrained from saying that she and Arin were farther apart in age than a mere decade.
“Where’s Omar, anyway?” he said instead. “I thought he wanted to see the shop, too.”
She shrugged. “You know how he is. Maybe he found a card game, maybe he found Peregrine. He’s wherever he wants to be. Never mind him. What happens next?”
“Usually I go around cleaning and straightening during a lull like this.” He checked the time on his comport. “People will start dropping by in ten minutes or so. But sometimes I work in the back, taking inventory or talking to associates on the voicecom. Other times I sit behind the counter and check out the current listings.”
“Can I help the first customer?” she asked.
“No,” he answered firmly.
“Why not? I know what most of this stuff is.”
“Because the sales approach here is different than you might be used to. You can’t call customers names or assault them.”
She sighed. “I know that. I’ll be good, I promise.”
He wavered. It would be fun to watch her play salesperson. “How about I see to the first one, you study what happens really hard, and I’ll let you take the lead with the customer after that?”
“Deal.” She beamed at him.
It would either be a very long day or a fun one.
CABOT NEEDN’T HAVE WORRIED. Nagali took on the role of salesperson like an award-winning actress would. She was bright, funny, flattering, knowledgeable, and he could see customers warming up to her immediately.
She was so bloody likeable when she wasn’t being wretched.
It was a fun day, though. He enjoyed catching up with residents of the station and talking to visitors. He always liked that, but with Nagali, it seemed even more fun. She made people laugh or flattered them with little compliments that pleased them.
Even Captain Nevitt came by, claiming to need a gift. Maybe she did, though Cabot had never known her to shop for gifts. He suspected she just wanted to say hello without being intrusive. She didn’t like residents of her station to feel like she was inspecting them or putting them on the spot.
By the end of the day, Cabot felt tired but happy to be home and to see the people he thought of as his family. The familiar sounds, smells, and routine were exactly what he’d hoped they would be.
Omar finally showed up in time for dinner, but Cabot had excused himself. Nagali could tell Omar about her day over dinner, and Cabot could enjoy some alone time.
All was well, as far as he was concerned.
THE NEXT DAYS settled into a routine much like the one Cabot had followed before leaving Dragonfire on the Outlaw. Sometimes Omar or Nagali helped out in the shop, and sometimes he had Nico or a part-timer cover a shift so he could take a walk with them in the arboretum.
Surprisingly, he liked having the Freeborns on the station. So far, they hadn’t caused any trouble and people liked them. It was fun having the comforts of home with some mild shenanigans from Nagali and Omar to keep him amused.
After a week, Nagali went to nearby Sarkan for some fun. She came back with sunburn, visited Dr. Brash for treatment, and instantly developed a crush.
She quickly got over the crush, too, as she always did. She conjured a stomach ailment as an excuse to see the object of her brief affection. Dr. Brash’s insistence that she was “in fantastic health for a woman her age” put her right over.
There were some things a person simply did not say to Nagali Freeborn.
He didn’t see much of Peregrine and Fallon, or their other teammates Raptor and Hawk. No doubt they were busy tracking down bad guys, thwarting attacks, and uncovering new intelligence.
Better them than him. It was their job, after all. People like them lived for that kind of thing.
Cabot was made for negotiating trade deals and operating shop, not all that hero stuff.
Things were as they should be, except for the Barony Coalition’s hostilities.
Both Arin and Fallon dropped by on a daily basis, as they normally did, to check in with him. Arin was more interested in the daily mood of the station, while Fallon’s interests involved the trends of the marketplace and wh
at Cabot made of them.
“Have you noticed any particular trend to smuggling activities? Major players who are emerging as part of it, a tendency to certain types of goods, or certain destinations?” she asked one afternoon, about a week after Nagali’s return from Sarkan.
“Not yet. It’s still pretty random with people serving whatever needs arise. Markets are fluctuating too much for anyone to really capitalize on any trends. But I’ll keep you posted if I notice anything.” He liked that she valued his professional expertise.
She nodded, slowly making her way around the store. She liked to look at the merchandise while they talked. He didn’t know if that came from an actual interest in the items or a desire to make these talks feel informal.
“Nix seems to be spending a lot of her time here in the evenings,” Fallon observed, studying a Kanaran painting.
“Yes. Coincidentally, that’s where Nagali has taken to showing up. She likes talking to customers.”
“As a salesperson or random chitchat?”
“Mostly as a salesperson,” he said, “but part of that is random chitchat, too, to gain an understanding of the person and their needs.”
“Do people like her?” Fallon asked.
“Oh, yes. Nagali is wonderfully charming when she wants to be. She has a way of making a person feel like they’re the center of the universe.”
“Do she and Nix talk?” Fallon picked up a pair of dice that went with a Rescan board game and shook them in her palm.
“Yes, sometimes. The three of us chat in between customers.”
“Why do you think Nix is spending so much time here?” Fallon asked.
“At first I thought it was because she wanted to catch up after my absence. Then I noticed that her visits began to coincide with Nagali’s. I get the feeling she’s studying Nagali.”
“Hm. Interesting.” Instead of shooting the dice, she carefully set them down on the board and continued on to a display case of glassware.
He expected more questions on the subject, but when she fell silent, he decided to pose some questions of his own.
“How goes the battle with Barony? Any hope for de-escalation?”