by Natalie Grey
“Yes,” Barnabas said, “but Shinigami needs to figure out where we should go first, how to get us past certain security protocols, and…well, a bunch of stuff.”
It turned out that rescuing a friend who was determined to assassinate you was not an easy task—especially when said friend was trapped in a highly fortified base, protecting other people you were trying to bring to Justice.
Barnabas waved a hand and hoped she wouldn’t ask about it. He led the way up the stairs. “You can see that I’ve made the steps a bit more level, and sanded them smoother. I’ll apply varnish tonight. Tabitha said she would bring some.”
“I can apply it,” said Carter, who had come up the stairs behind them. “I mean, you could too, but Shinigami says it’s time to head back to the ship.”
Barnabas frowned. “She didn’t contact me.”
“She came in person,” Carter told him. “She’s trying to eat a sandwich. I’m guessing that won’t screw up the cyborg body?”
“No, she can deal with it, but…” Barnabas had a lot of questions he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers to. “Never mind. So, since you’re here and I assume you’ll be taking over on this, here’s how I laid the boards. As far as I can tell, they won’t creak anymore.”
“Thanks.” Carter scratched his head. “I have to tell you, I feel a little bit guilty, making Ranger One do old-fashioned construction work.”
“Don’t.” Barnabas’ voice was emphatic. “First of all, I’m happy to help. What with another little one on the way and a bar to run, you have plenty of things on your plate. But I also like building things. If only you needed a hand in the garden!”
“Nuh-uh,” Elisa cautioned, laughing. “The garden is mine. Although, I was hoping you might help me grow some herbs to use in beer…”
“I guess I know where you stand on the German-Belgian debate,” Barnabas commented gravely.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. Beer is a delicate process, and I am happy to help. You know, the first beers I ever made were actually not made with hops, so I am well-versed in how different mixtures of herbs will affect the flavor.”
“Wonderful.” Elisa glowed. “I was thinking of trying to make a batch with orange peel.” She led the way back down the stairs, elaborating on her various plans, and bemoaning how certain plants from Earth didn’t seem to take well to the soil of High Tortuga.
In the bar’s main room, they found Shinigami trying to take a bite of a sandwich while Gar and Tafa studied her with mild concern.
“I don’t know,” Gar was saying. “Oh, Barnabas, thank goodness. We couldn’t remember the exact mechanics that humans use to eat. Will you demonstrate taking a bite for us?”
Barnabas stared at them all for a moment.
“I’ll get you a sandwich,” Carter said, trying to hide his smile, and whisked off to the kitchen. He was back in short order with something Barnabas had never seen before, but once the smells of it reached him, he didn’t hesitate to sit down and tuck in, oblivious to the aliens and Shinigami as they watched him chew and swallow.
It took about half of the sandwich before he could slow down enough to say, “This is delicious. What’s in it?”
“There’s a local bird the humans call a Tethran Fowl,” Carter told him. “The rest of the species here apparently hate it enough that they never named it. Anyway, it has very fatty meat like duck. Add that to a nice cheese, some caramelized onions, a beer sauce...” He gave an artful shrug. “And there’s a woman down the street who opened her own bakery, so we’ve been using her rolls. Good, yes?” He already knew it was good; his smile said as much.
“Amazing,” Barnabas said, with feeling.
“I wish I could taste things,” Shinigami remarked sadly.
“You can taste things.”
“I can assess chemical composition. That’s not the same.” She looked glum. “Since I don’t need food to live, there’s no reason to make eating pleasant, per se.”
“How do you power yourself?” Elisa asked curiously.
“I’m nuclear,” Shinigami informed her blandly.
Elisa blinked like she didn’t know if it was a joke and wasn’t quite sure what to say in either case.
Barnabas polished off the rest of his sandwich in neat bites and cleaned his fingers on a handkerchief. There was a time when he would never have eaten anything so messy or so humble. He was glad that those days were behind him—and also glad that he no longer lived the very humble life of a monk. He could not imagine enjoying anything so decadent in the monastery.
He accepted a mug of beer from Carter with a nod and took a sip. His eyebrows went up. “This is good.”
Elisa was glowing. “I brewed it!” She was practically bouncing in her seat. “I was very careful with all of the weighing and the temperature and everything, and I made beer! It’s a proper beer, isn’t it?”
“It is.” Barnabas opened his mouth to mention that he’d spent a lot of time brewing beer, but decided that might intimidate her. He was looking forward to all of the combinations she’d told him about and wanted to make sure he got to taste them. After this introduction to her brewing skills, he was anticipating the new beers a lot more. He settled for saying, “I’m quite enjoying it.”
“You know,” Carter stage-whispered, “that’s Barnabas-speak for ‘this is one of the best things I’ve ever had in my life.’”
Shinigami snorted as the rest of the team laughed, and Elisa blushed happily.
“He’s not wrong,” Barnabas admitted with good grace. “I won’t take your entire stash, but I will definitely be back for more. You are making more, right?”
“Yes.” She was grinning.
“Excellent. We’ll see you soon, then. Shinigami, you said we needed to head back to the ship?”
“Yes.” Shinigami dropped the mangled remains of her sandwich and gave them a disappointed look. Apparently, she hadn’t remembered how strong her cybernetic fingers were and had crushed the thing into paste. She cleaned her hands and stood up with a sigh. “Maybe I could program myself to enjoy food.”
“As long as it doesn’t violate the Skynet Protocol, do what you like,” Barnabas told her.
Carter followed Barnabas out and drew him aside. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Certainly.” Barnabas inclined his head. He had sensed a certain reserve in Carter earlier, and it was more pronounced now. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes. I said... Well, you’ll have noticed that Aliana’s gone.”
“Elisa told me what happened,” Barnabas replied. “Carter, how long did it take you to settle down? A long time. You had to find something that kept that excitement and adventure alive—as well as having the right person by your side.” He thought of Aliana, and could only wish that she did have someone to match her. She liked to laugh, Barnabas sensed, and she wanted to make something of herself. She was just a little bit aimless right now.
“Yes, but did Elisa say why she left?” Carter pressed. He looked miserable. “It was because she heard us talking. She heard me tell you what happened with Harry, and then with Lawrence. So, you see...”
“Ah.” Barnabas ran a hand through his hair, careful not to disturb its arrangement. He groaned. “Well, there’s not much you can do beyond apologizing.”
“I know. I just want to know she’s safe.”
Where are you? Shinigami asked in Barnabas’ head.
I’ll be there in a moment. I’m helping Carter with something. And can’t you locate me?
Yeah, but Tabitha has informed me that that’s, and I quote, “Stalker-y.”
I suppose she’s not wrong. I’ll be along soon.
Fine, but I make no guarantees about what happens to this juice you left me to carry.
You have no actual muscles! It costs you nothing to carry things!
That is not the point.
Barnabas hid his smile as he laid a hand on Carter’s shoulder. “You want me to keep an eye out for her?”
<
br /> “Would you?” Carter looked grateful. “I don’t know if you’d even see her. Space is big, after all.”
“I have a feeling we might run into one another again,” Barnabas told him blandly. It was even true, although in a far different way than Carter was probably imagining. It wouldn’t be a chance encounter in the hallway of a space station. No, if Aliana had left to work for her former employer, she was likely still planning to steal the Shinigami.
Barnabas had to admit he was looking forward to seeing what she came up with as a strategy.
“I’ll also ask other people I know to keep an eye out,” he continued. “Not interfere or anything, just give us an update if they see her.”
“Thank you.” Carter gave him a relieved smile. “Get going—I’ve kept you long enough. I’ll go finish those stairs.”
“Tabitha said she’ll be along at dinner time with the varnish.”
“I’m guessing she’ll be along early and have a long dinner,” Carter corrected with a grin. He waved and disappeared back into the building.
It didn’t take Barnabas long to get back to the Shinigami, and he went immediately to the conference room. He was pleased to see that Shinigami had managed to evade the detection programs for the satellites on Jotuna D. The defense system was multi-tiered and very aggressive and had caused them trouble before.
This time, however, Shinigami seemed to have no worries. There was a holographic map of Jotuna D hovering, with connections between each satellite, and Gilwar was poring over a set of code with her in the corner.
They looked up as Barnabas entered.
“So we can get onto Jotuna D?” Barnabas asked.
“We can,” Shinigami said. “And even better news, I managed to get a bug into their systems.”
“What? How?”
She gave him a deeply smug smile. “Oh, it is such a good story. Gather ‘round, everyone.”
* * *
Kelnamon and Ferqar had made good time back to the city. Ferqar, of course, was fine within his biosuit, but Kelnamon would normally have stopped for food and water.
This time, he made no stops. He’d scrambled over rocks and leapt gullies, with Ferqar struggling behind him. They did not have time to take the longer winding paths. If there were Jotun devices landing on the planet and shooting at innocent bystanders, they needed to get to the military quickly.
Once he was back, Kelnamon wasted no time sending a message to a military liaison he knew, as well as the contact who was helping him figure out the situation with the Srisa’s passengers. Both of them, he was sure, would know who to pass the word to. He let them know he would be available to discuss what he had seen.
Then he waited.
And waited.
And waited. That afternoon and evening, he assumed that word was winding its way through the appropriate channels. The next morning, he considered that perhaps many others had reported the same thing and they did not need his information.
Still, he was uneasy about it.
By the next afternoon, he was done waiting. He showed up at the government offices…only to find them empty.
“What’s going on?” he asked a passerby. “Do you know? Why are the buildings empty?”
“I guess they’ve been told to go to remote offices,” the Brakalon female said with a shrug. “It’s some kind of drill. Don’t worry, you can reach them all by message.” She continued past him without another word, likely thinking that Kelnamon was simply curious.
Kelnamon’s sense that something was wrong had intensified.
He was willing to bet that some messages were getting through. He was also willing to bet, however, that his had not. Someone had arranged for the military and government personnel to be out of reach while this plan unfolded.
He had to get word to Barnabas. The only question was, of course, how to do that without tipping off the people orchestrating this.
Chapter Three
Zinqued trotted down the hallways of the Palpari, his nose twitching with excitement. He couldn’t wait to find out what plans Aliana had for stealing the Shinigami. For months now, he had been able to think about nothing else. The ship was beautiful, sleek, and absolutely perfect in every way.
He could just see himself sitting in the captain’s chair, ordering its all-powerful AI to guide missiles or find him anything he wanted. Tik’ta liked to tease him and roll her eyes, but when she had a ship like that to pilot, she wouldn’t be upset with him anymore.
He had been dispirited when Aliana, their human crew member, had decided to stay on High Tortuga with her family—and then intrigued and pleased when she had contacted him and said she wanted to sign back on. He didn’t know what was behind her decision, and he didn’t care. She had been honest with him about their chances of stealing the ship, and he was glad to have her aboard.
A human, after all, could understand Barnabas in a way no alien could. The nuances of human society, especially the fabled Ranger Corps, might help them come up with a con to sneak the ship right out from under him.
Zinqued was halfway up the corridor to Aliana’s bunk when he heard a strange sound like a breath dragged in so quickly that it squeaked. A sound of pain.
He broke into a run and came around the doorway to find her wiping the heels of her palms across her eyes hastily. She hid her face as she did it, but when she turned to look at him, he could still see the redness around her eyes and the sheen of tears. She had been crying.
Zinqued was a Hieto, and Hieto did not cry. He had come to learn that some species did, however, and they did so when they were hurt or—sometimes—sad.
“Is everything all right?” he asked urgently.
“I’m fine,” Aliana assured him, sounding a bit prickly. Her voice came out oddly, though, and she still wasn’t breathing quite right.
“Are you sick?”
“I’m not sick.”
“Is there anything—”
She swiped through the air with her hand, almost angrily. “I really don’t want to talk about it. Er. If that’s all right with you, Captain.”
Zinqued waved both his hands. Unlike many other captains he’d met and worked for, he didn’t feel the need to stand on ceremony. “Just ‘Zinqued,’ please. And I do not mean to distress you. I only wished to know if there was a problem.”
“No,” Aliana said. Zinqued wasn’t familiar with human tells, but he was almost certain that she was lying. “There’s no problem. In fact, I have a few preliminary plans for the theft of the Shinigami, if you have time to go over them.”
“Always.” Zinqued could not stop his stomach plating from rippling with pleasure. He liked nothing more than planning this heist. Even the attempts, while occasionally terrifying, gave him a rush that he could find no other way.
Aliana gestured for him to sit on the bed and unrolled several large sheets of reusable paper, which she stuck to the walls of her tiny cabin.
“This is the first idea. We bribe a station administrator at a smaller station to do two things. First, when the Shinigami docks, they disconnect the cables that control the mechanism. Someone would have to go outside and manually undo each in order to let the ship go. Second, they would close off the rest of the station so that there was no possibility of civilians getting hurt.”
“Barnabas does not hurt civilians,” Zinqued assured her gravely. It was something he appreciated about his opponent. Honor was important, after all.
“Exactly,” Aliana agreed. She jabbed a finger for emphasis. “So when he sees that we, too, are taking precautions, he will deal with us as honorable opponents. Trust me, we do not want him to think we’re dishonorable or that we’re putting civilians in the crossfire. If we do that, our lives are forfeit. If we do it this way, we may still not take the ship, but he will not consider it imperative to teach us a permanent lesson.”
“Ah.” Zinqued looked at her shrewdly. “So you think there is a good chance that we will fail?”
“I’ve been very open wit
h you about that,” Aliana told him. Her voice was blunt. “My goal is to get us a foolproof plan, but I know that this will be very difficult, and that our chances are better if he isn’t furious with us. Hurting civilians, or even putting them in the way of danger, will make him absolutely furious.”
“Mmm.” Zinqued looked at the other plans. “Yes, I see your point. What’s that?” He pointed to a piece of paper she hadn’t put up.
“Oh, it’s— That’s nothing. Nothing important.” Aliana snatched it off the desk.
But not before Zinqued saw the name and last ports of call of a human ship and the name of the current and former captains.
“Ah,” he said blandly. He nodded at the other plans. “So you say you have three potential plans?”
“Yes.” She looked relieved…and she kept the piece of paper behind her back. “I think what we may be able to do is build a plan out of pieces of each of these. Run a series of cons, I mean. Maybe our earliest attempts aren’t designed to steal the ship, just to learn certain things or test their responses.”
“Ah.” Zinqued was pleased by this. “Well, I will have you present these to the whole crew after dinner, then. I will go begin preparing it now. Remind me—do humans enjoy eating live snakes, or is that Yofu?”
Aliana gave him a queasy look. “That’s Yofu. Definitely not humans.”
“I won’t make any vlatesh’ka for you, then.”
“Thank you.”
Zinqued waved to her cheerily and left, but he didn’t go to the kitchen. Tik’ta was cooking tonight, and she was up to date on what each species aboard enjoyed eating. Since she didn’t need any supervision, Zinqued would work on a side project.
He had done some research on Aliana after she came to work with them the first time. Her ship, the James, was a piece of junk, and she hadn’t bothered to pay her dues before leaving the station last time. She seemed to be hoping the ship would be stolen so she wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.
Before that, she’d had a ship named the Melisande, and that ship had been the sort a good captain dreamed of. It wasn’t flashy, not by a long shot, but it was deceptively quick, in good repair, and had a solid suite of components that would last a very long time.