by R. K. Thorne
“I was referring to myself.”
“Oh.” He stood, started his move, and captured a piece she’d moved into a bait position.
She swore. All part of the act. Maybe she’d let him think he’d almost pulled it off, not mention she’d set a deliberate trap.
“My, my. I didn’t know Union officers were so prone to profanity.” He grinned. The edge to his voice was back, too. Strange timing. Now that he thought he was winning, he wanted to threaten her? Or was his ego starting to form some hairline cracks?
She cleared her throat. “Former Union officer. Have you met many? I shouldn’t think there’d be many on Capital.”
“There aren’t. But there may be enough to find out the standard reward for calling in deserters.” He leaned forward, relishing what her reaction would be.
She smirked, and a little puff of laughter escaped in spite of herself. It was far from a standard award. “Now, now. Was it my move or what I said that made you turn to threats?” She completed her next move, an innocuous one, so as to keep him talking. She couldn’t win just yet.
“Threats? No, no, you misunderstand me. Sorry, I know the Capital ways of etiquette can be hard to grasp to outsiders. I was simply curious.”
She snorted. “So was I.”
They sat in silent tension for a moment.
“For the record,” she added, “Union officers are typically clean-cut. I wasn’t a typical Union officer.” Special teams were… a little rougher, but it came out sounding arrogant as hell. Oh, whatever. What did it matter what this jackass thought?
His smile perked up in a way that made her want to swear again. Ugh. That was the problem. He liked arrogant. Time to change tactics.
Time to end the game.
She shoveled the biggest scoop of curry she dared while he took his next turn. There. Her plate looked at least half eaten. He leaned back with his own version of her gesture, hands folded behind his neck and grinning.
She stood, moved one piece, which set off the chain reaction he’d missed. The mountain range he’d been pinning his victory on disintegrated under him, the red orbs falling into the virtual water with an admittedly beautiful splash. And her turn wasn’t done.
She let out a low whistle, pretending not to notice his shock. “This is quite a beautiful table you’ve got here. Maybe this is your area of research. Better gaming tables. If so, bravo, well done.” It was a salve, a bit of butter in the coffee to toss his disintegrating ego off her trail.
But she wasn’t done. Three more moves cascaded her way as she captured major objectives. Five, and it was over.
He blinked. “Well then.”
“Great table. Probably time for me to head back to my team now.” She was still standing from her turn.
He held up a palm. “Wait. Are you always all business?”
“Yes.” She said it without a hint of a smile.
“All right then. Let’s get down to business.”
“I thought this was the business.”
“This was the first step in the qualification process. I have information.”
“And? Who doesn’t.”
“Information I am certain you will want.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, and knitted his fingers together in front of his mouth.
She shifted slightly, eager to make for the door. What fresh hell was this? He hadn’t just been hitting on her? “Name it.”
“First—a harder game. I want you to prove you’re the genius you say you are. I can’t trust my information to just any hooligan.”
She scowled. “Hooligan? Is that what I look like? I just beat you, I’ll remind you.”
“You did indeed. But you still look like you’re better with a gun than a puzzle.”
She blinked as the silence stretched out for a long moment. Something in her flinched at the comment, the part of her that knew she wasn’t like other women, that maybe she ought not to crush men at strategy games or tell them to slag off like she wanted to right now. It was a stupid part of her, but it suddenly stung. No matter. She wouldn’t let it win. She physically shook herself, pushing the feeling away.
“Name the puzzle,” she said instead.
He smiled, a wicked twinkle in the corner of his eye. “I shall. I’ll send it to your contacts. Persad has them, yes? It will take a few weeks to complete.”
“Weeks? I don’t have weeks. I’ll be long gone in weeks.”
He shrugged. “Not my problem.”
“How do I know your information won’t be stale by then?”
“Trust me, this tidbit is evergreen.”
Chapter Six
“So when do I get my cigar?”
That was all the warning he had before Jenny had dropped herself into the mustard-colored armchair he was sitting in. Surely his lap also being there was just a coincidence.
“You don’t. They weren’t shooting at me, they were shooting at Persad.”
Jenny scowled, lips pouting. “You’re not going to go all technical on me, are you, pilot? I shoulda outlined clearer rules for this bet.”
He glanced at the door, not wanting to think about what Josana’s reaction would be to this scene. “Too late. No bullets bounced off me yet.”
“Well, you weren’t wearing it. So it would have gone in.” She jabbed a finger into his shoulder, hard. “That’s my point.”
He rolled his eyes. “Point taken. I’ll wear it next time. Someone had to make you not look like a freak while you greeted your adoring public.” His eyes darted to the door again.
“You could have pretended to be my security for once!” She followed his gaze, then sighed. “You know Persad still thinks we’re dating, so…” She shrugged. “Nothing to worry about there.”
“You know that’s not what I was worrying about. Why must you… ?” He groped for words, trying to shove down the leap of suspicion that rose up. The one that said Jenny would know that Josana’s wrath wasn’t worth a silly hug. That she must have some ulterior motive. Possibly a dangerous one.
“Must I what?” Jenny wasn’t playing along.
He sighed. “Always sit like this.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you could possibly mean.”
“I haven’t noticed you sitting in Kael’s lap lately. Or Dremer’s, for that matter.”
“Oh, I just miss the smell of your cologne,” she said, grinning again. “And your cigars.” She inhaled deeply, leaning closer to him, her chest pressing softly against his to dramatic effect. He couldn’t tell if she was mocking him. Especially since her own warmth and the scent of apricots and peaches had taken over his senses. “And I’m anticipating my victory,” she whispered into his ear, sending a shiver through him.
“Anticipate or not, you’re not gonna win.” He kept his voice hard and glanced at the door. Josana was due here anytime now. She wanted to talk, the kind of talk that should be written with a capital T.
She pointedly sighed in the door’s direction. “Fine, I’ll extricate myself.” She dropped into the armchair beside him, once again humming to herself.
His lap felt colder than usual, her absence more obvious. Strange. He felt an odd sense of regret now, that he’d been unkind and needed to make amends. He opened his mouth, maybe to apologize. But what could he say that made any sense?
He shut it as someone approached up the hall. Too late. The boots were too heavy to be Josana’s, though. Adan still tensed a little, but then relaxed as Kael came stalking around the corner, scowling.
“Peaks and Valleys. Stupid games,” he was muttering to himself as he plunked down on a nearby chaise that was completely at odds with him. His eyes caught on Adan’s. “Do you know how to play that?”
Adan frowned. “Yeah, I guess. Why? I mean, I’m not great at it.”
“Teach me.”
Adan shrugged. “Sure. Okay. Get your tablet or comm or something for your end, I’ll install it.”
Kael nodded. “Be right back. Gotta hit the head too.”
“C’mon.” She waved to Adan as she brushed by. “We’re leaving.”
“Hey, no!” Jenny shot up from her chair. “But Kael said—and the commander—” She waved down the hallway in the direction Kael had gone.
Josana rolled her eyes and threaded her hand in Adan’s. He didn’t miss Jen’s eyes fixing on the motion. “We have things to talk about. Let’s go.”
“I’ll be back, Jen. See ya.” He let himself be led. Sure, Kael was going to be pissed when he got back, but if he waited for the brute to return and tried to argue it, he’d never get this chance. In spite of trying to keep his distance from the Theroki, though, Adan did feel a little bad as they hit the elevator tube and he realized he had in fact given Kael the slip. The guy was just doing his job, after all.
Maybe he could play Peaks and Valleys while he waited.
If Josana had wanted to kill him, though, she’d had ample opportunity. At this point, she was the only person he felt reasonably sure wasn’t out to kill him. And once in a great while, a guy just wanted to go out with his girl for a date without a babysitter. Especially before he left her on her home planet forever. Was that so much to ask?
He didn’t think so.
She led him to a flyer that took them to what she called the bakery district. Stepping out, he was a little too aware of the kaleidoscope of shifting color around him, of all the crazy fashions, or the viciously sleek ones. Most people were not wearing khaki with pockets.
Maybe he’d start a trend.
Laughing to himself, Josana led him to, of course, a mangabrew cafe. The outside of the place was shining red enamel punctuated a grid of by circular windows. Inside, the entire back wall held an aquarium filled with black, squid-like creatures. Little shiny white tables studded most of the floor. Carefully manicured, bored-looking women similar to Jenny’s fans lounged back in semi-recliners of some kind of plush gray fabric. He caught a dozen glances in his direction, most of them vaguely put out.
Josana led him to a curvy chair of his own. He sat sideways on the edge. No way he could relax with what they needed to talk about. Josana, however, did not have the same problem. After setting a tiny ceramic cup of viciously bubbling black liquid in front of him, she draped herself across the chair like it was made to showcase her. And she subtly took a sip. The drink left a thick black coat across her upper lip, and she swiped it away with her tongue.
He was simultaneously horrified and very excited.
“Go on, take a drink.” She pointed.
“Uh—working on it,” he replied.
“Okay… So what do you think? Let’s talk about my offer. Now that you’re here.”
He glanced around. He was here all right. Where was this—what was this place, exactly?
She set down the cup. “Stay.”
Like it was that simple. “Don’t you see I don’t belong here?”
“I don’t see why.”
“I’m a pilot.”
“You could drive luxury flyers if you want. Although you certainly wouldn’t need to. I think you’re better than that.”
He blinked, unsure of what to say to that.
“Or there’s even racing. It’s about an hour flyer away, but they do love it in Appellate 629.”
That sounded mildly interesting, but not if he had a spaceship as the alternative, one that flew around not just to make faster times, but to change things. Permanently. He shrugged. “I don’t think so, Jos. I don’t think this is going to work. Much as I wish it could.”
“What about programming? I’m sure there’s lots you can do anywhere.”
“Even if there is, I don’t have a work permit.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“I have to worry about that, what do you mean? It’s a no go.”
“Let’s say I could take care of that for you.”
“But you can’t.”
She rolled her eyes. “But I can. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. So much for subtlety.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Just pretend that’s not a problem. Would you stay?”
He frowned harder at her. It just didn’t add up. It had never added up. “Let’s be honest with each other, Josana. We’ve been together for three weeks. You’re way out of my league—”
“Now, that’s not true,” she said earnestly.
“Why are you so serious about this?”
“You haven’t even had a drink.”
“Neither have you had a second one.”
“That’s because it’s terrible.”
“I figured. Don’t dodge.”
“Fine! Fine, fine.” She shook her head, looking off into the distance. “It’d have to be said sooner or later anyway.” She met his gaze squarely now, eyes serious. “I run a business here. A very lucrative business. I’m not coming back to go to medical school, except maybe as a cover.”
He frowned. “What kind of crazy cover is that?”
“An expensive but useful one.”
“What kind of business that you haven’t mentioned it before?”
She smiled sweetly. “I provide a host of sensible and exotic recreations to some of Capital’s finest—and most wealthy—citizens.”
He stopped short. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
He was shaking his head. This couldn’t be real. Innocent, naive Josana was… what was she? An underworld maven of some kind? He wanted that idea not to make any sense, but that would be lying to himself. The idea fit her perfectly.
“Chems or sex?”
She scowled and hushed him.
“So both?”
“I hate you right now. Look, have some class. You can’t talk about it directly like that.”
He collapsed back into the recliner, not even caring now. “I told you I don’t belong here.”
She pouted at him. “Don’t be like that. Look, my offerings are primarily chemical. I’m not some madam or companion or something. That is entirely too tiring, and how the hell would I have done that from the ship?”
“You ran an illegal business from our ship?” He spread his palms flat on the table. “Does your sister know about this?”
“I suspect yes. I doubt Xi missed it, and she would certainly have told my sister. At the very least, Xi knows I make regular shipments from time to time.”
“You were picking up chems at our stops? And sending them off for money? Holy hell. I can’t believe you’re a—”
“Damn it, Adan. Subtlety. Please. Give it a try.” She flicked a packet at him, eyes flashing with laughter. A tiny square of blue powder mixed with black and silver tablets shaped like hearts landed on the table almost silently. “There, see for yourself.”
He froze. “Don’t do that, hell.” He knew what that was. Osiris. Even that tiny square could be worth hundreds of credits in the outsystem, where supply was fairly common. Here it’d be worth more. Way more. He had no idea how much. “Put that away.”
“Nobody cares about that here. Or I wouldn’t have come here. You think I’m stupid?”
“Put the fragging thing away. You do realize I’m unregistered, right?”
She rolled her eyes again and took a sip of her drink, glancing over at the bar. She didn’t move to touch the packet.
He glowered at her and then pocketed it himself when he couldn’t stand it any longer. “Wait. What the hell does that have to do with us?”
“Well, if you stayed, in addition to the pleasure of your company, I think we could make a lot of money together. I need network protection, and there’re lots of other… lucrative endeavors we could tackle that I’m not equipped for on my own.”
“How many of them are legal endeavors?”
“Now come on. Jenny grossly overstated the—”
“That many, huh?”
“When y
ou know the right people, it’s not a problem. ‘Legal’ has a more flexible meaning here.”
That phrase. Know the right people. It made his stomach turn. And worse—was all this just her trying to hook him in to work for her? To just… be her computer guy? He groaned aloud without entirely meaning to. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Jos. You shoulda told me at the beginning and I’d have told you it would never happen. I swore leaving the outsystem I’d leave that life behind. I don’t do illegal.”
“It’s not exactly illegal.”
“I don’t do questionable either.”
She stabbed a finger at him. “Every single thing you do on the Audacity is questionable, if not illegal. How dare you judge me.”
Well. She had him there. “But it’s for a noble purpose. It’s helping people.”
“Do you really know that?”
He gritted his teeth, hating the way the comment niggled at him. “Yeah.”
“Isn’t it noble to help relieve people of pain, of suffering? Is there a real difference between chemicals taken for recreation and chemicals taken as medicine? Both of them are helping people. Coping with life’s struggles and tragedies, bringing relaxation when it’s impossible—those aren’t meaningless. Or unethical.”
“It is when those chemicals are also poisoning them. And addicting them to have to come back to you for more, so their problems just get worse.”
“Not every chem is like that.”
He pointed at his pocket. “This one is.”
“Why do you have to be such a fragging white knight? C’mon. I make people happy. Bring out their true selves and throw off their inhibitions.”
He shook his head.
She sighed. “Fine.”
“Sorry you wasted your time.” He didn’t try to hide the hurt in his voice.
She shrugged. “I didn’t. You’re a really loyal guy I would have liked to have on my side. You’re smart, and you rarely bore me. That can’t be said for most people. And you’re even a decent lay.”
He snorted, a weird mixture of warmth and hurt swirling at the words. “Wow. Glowing testimonial. Decent if you’re alone in the deep with no other options?” He had loved her. Or he’d thought he did. Perhaps it was just the idea of her, more than who she really was. The status, much as he hated to admit it. The bitter taste in his mouth wasn’t the mangabrew, which remained untouched and still bubbling. Why the hell was it bubbling?