Cleon Moon Page 4

  She rubbed her temple. When had her life grown so complicated?

  One thing at a time. She would get Jelena and then worry about everything else.

  “Says they’re for condiments for his restaurants,” Beck said. “I can’t imagine why such a successful chef would bother with illegal activities.”

  “Unless his restaurants are nothing more than a cover for illegal activities.”

  “Captain, if you’d had his moonstorm burger, you wouldn’t say such things.” Beck leaned over and laid a hand on her arm. “And this could be my chance. If he’s overseeing one of his restaurants when we deliver the cargo, I could stroll in nonchalantly, pull some of my sauce bottles out of my pockets, and casually offer him a taste. Could you imagine?”

  “You pulling bottles of sauce out of your pocket? Oddly, I can imagine that.”

  “What if he tried them?” Beck asked, oblivious to her sarcasm. “And liked them? Blessing of the Suns Trinity, my apple cider barbecue sauce would be brilliant on his burgers. What if he realizes that and wants to order some for his restaurants? He’s got dozens of restaurants. It could make my career, Captain.”

  “Will you still protect me from thugs and brutes when you’re rich and famous, Beck?”

  “Uh, maybe not indefinitely, but at first, of course I would. Do you know how expensive it is to contract a quality co-pack facility and ramp up production when you’re just getting started? But maybe I could start here, set aside a portion of the cargo hold.” Beck gazed through the hatchway, as if he was even now envisioning conveyer belts of bottles down there with robotic equipment squirting sauce into them. “I’d cut you in, of course.”

  “Thoughtful.”

  He smiled hopefully at her.

  Alisa waved her hand toward the comm. “Go ahead. Get in contact with them, and see if we can bid for the freight. Four days should give us enough time to get situated.” And by situated, she meant biking out to the Starseer outpost and back. Alisa wouldn’t let herself get her hopes too high, but she couldn’t help but think that maybe she could find Jelena and get back to the ship in time to pick up the cargo. “But make sure nothing fishy is going on,” she added. “That’s a lot of money for hauling mushrooms.”

  Before Beck could reach for the comm, it flashed with an incoming message from a control tower nestled against the exterior of the dome. Alisa had expected the hail, since they were flying around the city.

  “This is Captain Marchenko,” she answered, leaving off mention of the Star Nomad for now. The name of the ship was painted on the side, and it had an old imperial ident, so it wasn’t as if they could slip in incognito, but she wouldn’t be surprised if there were multiple alerts on the net from the Alliance and also from the White Dragon mafia.

  Maybe instead of thinking of retrofitting it, she should try to trade it for something else. But what else could she afford? Nobody was going to give her anything modern, decent, or working for the old freighter. Besides—she eyed the stuffed spider dangling over Beck’s head—this was home.

  “Are you looking to dock, Captain Marchenko?” a man responded. His voice sounded blessedly professional.

  “Yes, we’re looking to take on cargo. What are your docking fees?”

  “Forty tindarks,” he said. “Per day.”

  That wasn’t cheap, but since the man did not go on to mention searches, extra fees, or taxes, Alisa decided to find it reasonable. “Thank you. We’re interested.”

  “Excellent. Enter through the south forcefield. You’ll see the docks right away.”

  Alisa took them in the indicated direction, veering past a control tower and toward a portion of the translucent dome that grew transparent as she approached. It occurred to her that the forcefield opened and closed via someone else’s command, and that they could be trapped inside if that person chose not to open it when the Nomad wanted to leave. Was she a fool who risked strolling into a trap?

  Beck looked at her curiously as she slowed to a hover outside of the dome.

  “I think it’s open,” he said.

  She eyed the surrounding terrain on the Nomad’s cameras, wondering if she could land outside and they could send Beck and Leonidas in their self-contained armor to get masks and hover bikes for everyone. But there weren’t any other ships parked anywhere outside of the dome. Marshes and fungal forests stretched as far as her cameras could see. The scant roads she had noticed were too narrow to land on, and might not support the weight of a ship—they were raised up, almost like bridges stretching through the swamps. Alisa feared she would need pontoons to land anywhere out there.

  “For now,” she murmured, replying to Beck.

  She guided the Nomad through the entrance and hoped she was not making a mistake.

  • • • • •

  Alisa headed down to the hold, using the stairs Mica had rebuilt with Tomich’s supplies, and tried not to feel nervous as she wondered what to expect in a city run by a mafia organization. Leonidas and Beck were already waiting by the cargo hatch, though nobody had presumed to lower it yet. Alejandro was also in the hold, talking to Leonidas. Yumi stood by the chicken coop, tossing feed to the girls. They had been stressed by their exposure to the radiation and had not resumed egg-laying yet, much to Beck’s chagrin. Abelardus was not around, but Alisa was not too concerned—she needed to buy some of the breathing masks before she could look for the Starseer outpost.

  Mica waited at the bottom of the steps with her arms folded over her chest.

  “Problem?” Alisa asked, stopping before heading over to join the men.

  “You set us down in a city run by the mafia?”

  “Ah, someone must have sent you the memo.”

  “Funny,” Mica said. “This isn’t the kind of place where I can look for a good engineering job, you know.”

  “Oh?” Alisa tried to decide if Mica was joking or not. She kept saying she wanted to leave, but she kept not leaving. “Does the mafia not need engineers?”

  “I’m not going to work for the mafia. I’m not suicidal.”

  “Are you sure? You’ve been flying with me.” Alisa grinned.

  “Something I’m even less keen to do now that you’ve got that artifact. As soon as the rest of the universe figures out it’s in your hold, you’ll have even more people trying to shoot this ship down.” Mica’s eyes narrowed. “That isn’t why that muscled-up freighter was flinging torpedoes at us, is it?”

  “No, its captain wanted to collect our taxes. By the way, can you retrofit our cargo hold to handle freight that needs to be refrigerated?”

  Mica lowered her arms—and her jaw. “Retrofit… refrigeration? It’s not as if that’s as easy as dropping in some blocks of ice. Refrigerator freighters are specialized ships that are designed that way from the beginning.”

  “You said a lot of words there. What I heard was, ‘Yes, Captain, I can, and I look forward to the challenge.’”

  “You need to have your ears washed out.” Mica scowled at her. “Hasn’t your cyborg with his enhanced tongue been in there yet?”

  “No, and having my ears licked clean isn’t on my list of preferred foreplay techniques.”

  “Too bad. Because they need it. Refrigeration.” Mica grunted in disgust.

  “You can’t leave it here unguarded,” Alejandro said, in the middle of his discussion with Leonidas. For the first time, his voice had risen loud enough to be audible from across the hold.

  “I have an appointment with a weapons installer,” Leonidas said, glancing at Alisa.

  “An appointment? The most valuable artifact in the system, all that we’ve been searching for, is sitting in my cabin on this ship, and you’re going to waltz off for an appointment? Maybe you can get your hair and nails done while you’re out there too.”

  Alisa left Mica fuming and walked over to join Leonidas for more fuming. He and Alejandro were glowering at each other with equal intensity.

  “Is there a problem?” she asked, though she had already gotten t
he gist.

  She could understand Alejandro wanting a guard for the staff, but she would also prefer to take Leonidas with her. She would be shocked if she managed to wander around a mafia-run city without running into problems—they might be waiting for her as soon as she opened the cargo hatch. She would volunteer Beck to stay and guard the ship, but he had to physically go meet with Chef Leblanc’s people to see about getting them a cargo. Apparently, job interviews weren’t conducted over the comm here. Alisa would need Abelardus to lead them to the Starseers. Maybe Mica would suffice for Alejandro’s guard needs. After all, she knew her way around weapons and could make her own explosives. Given her grumpy mood, she might even enjoy a chance to pummel thieves.

  “This ship is entirely inadequate,” Alejandro announced. “A determined thief could stroll right in.”

  “The cargo hatch does lock.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen how well locked doors work on this ship.” Alejandro turned his glower on her.

  Alisa blushed, certain he was referring to the time she had sneaked into his cabin to steal his orb.

  “The locks aren’t for keeping the captain out,” she said, refusing to admit to being wrong. “If it makes you feel better, we can tuck it into the cubby over there.”

  Alisa waved to the secret spot where they had all hidden when the pirates in the T-Belt had forced their way aboard.

  “Nothing makes a man feel more confident than storing his valuables in a place called a cubby,” Alejandro said. Mica wasn’t the only grumpy one here. Maybe some of that toxic air from the atmosphere had seeped into the ship.

  “I can take it with me if you wish,” Leonidas said.

  “Oh yes. Let’s flaunt it on a moon full of cutthroats and villains.”

  “I won’t keep him out long,” Alisa said, resting a hand on Leonidas’s arm. “He has no need to stop for nail trims or haircuts. I can do that for him here.”

  Leonidas raised his eyebrows.

  “I’m excellent with laser clippers,” she informed him. “Although, you could let your hair grow out if you don’t trust my styling abilities. How did the empire feel about cyborgs with pigtails?”

  “They wouldn’t have been regulation,” he said, as if she had been serious about the question.

  “Unfortunate.”

  Alejandro made an exasperated noise and stalked toward the stairs.

  “Doctor?” Alisa called after him. “Do you need any supplies for sickbay? As long as we’re going to be shopping for masks, I’m sure I could pick them up for you.” She meant it as a conciliatory offer, but supposed it was self-serving too. Given the number of times they had all been injured, they needed a well-stocked sickbay. And a non-grumpy doctor.

  He narrowed his eyes at her, always suspicious of her intent, even when he had no reason to be. Maybe he was still thinking of her theft. And the fact that she chummed around with Alliance commanders. She sighed, doubting he would ever consider her anything but an enemy.

  “You have your comm with you?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll send you a list.” Not bothering with a thank you, Alejandro climbed the stairs and headed back to the passenger cabins.

  “I think he’s warming up to you,” Leonidas said.

  Alisa blinked up at him. “Was that a joke?”

  “If you have to ask, I suppose it was a poor one.”

  “Yes, but I liked it anyway.” She linked her arm with his, though snuggling up to a man in combat armor wasn’t exactly cozy. “Will you escort me shopping, good sir?”

  Beck, who was leaning by the hatch, snorted. “The words every man dreads hearing from a woman.”

  “Even when you’re shopping for weapons?” Alisa asked.

  “I’m sure you’ll want to buy more than that. Women always do. Poor Leonidas will think he’s going to buy e-cannons, but before he knows it, he’ll be in a clothing store, waiting outside of the changing room and being asked for his opinions on outfits.”

  Alisa couldn’t imagine how clothing shopping might go in a city run by the mafia. All she said was, “You sound bitter, Beck. How many of those twelve siblings are sisters?”

  He grimaced. “Ten.”

  “We should go,” Leonidas said. “Alejandro’s concerns are legitimate. I’m not comfortable leaving the staff unguarded. Or where Abelardus can easily decide to stroll off with it. There’s no reason for him to stay with us. He might grab it and head to the Starseer outpost on his own.”

  “I don’t think he’ll do that,” Alisa said.

  “Just because he’s enamored with you doesn’t mean you should trust him.”

  Leonidas said the words matter-of-factly without any rancor or jealousy, but they made Alisa uncomfortable. Was she trusting Abelardus too much? He had given her his word to help her find her daughter, but could she count on that? He had lied to her before.

  “He’s not enamored with me,” she said, keeping her voice down, not wanting Beck to listen in on the conversation. “He wasn’t interested in me at all until he found out I have Starseer gene mutations. And I’m trying very hard to discourage that interest,” she said, meeting his eyes, just in case she had not made that perfectly clear to him.

  “I know,” he said. Her arm was still linked with his, and he laid his hand lightly on hers. “Shopping?”

  “Beck, open the hatch, please,” she said and smiled at Leonidas. “I would love to.”

  Beck hit the button, the hatch opened, and the ramp lowered. Before any of them stepped out, no less than three spy boxes zipped past, cameras recording footage as they flew over the crowds of people thronging the docks.

  Alisa swallowed. She had expected thugs and bullies, not high-tech surveillance such as the empire had favored.

  Beck plopped his helmet onto his head and tinted the faceplate so his features were not visible. Leonidas sighed and extracted his arm from Alisa so he could don his own helmet. She hoped her face was not on any wanted posters out there, because she could not do the same.

  Chapter 4

  The weapons dealer wouldn’t deign to talk to them until they could show him hard currency, the breathing masks were ridiculously overpriced, and a spy box was following them, the cube matching their pace precisely as it hovered along, ten feet behind. So far, Alisa hated her shopping trip.

  The only good thing was that she’d had enough money to buy the masks, including an extra for Jelena. She hoped Beck was having luck convincing the chef’s people to give them a cargo, and also that he would get a portion of the fee upfront. Maybe then, the weapons dealer would talk with them, though that was more Leonidas’s quest than Alisa’s right now. She itched to get back to the ship, grab Abelardus, and head out to look for Jelena.

  “Is that a cyborg?” someone cried from an intersection ahead as Leonidas and Alisa were leaving the weapons shop.

  Leonidas slowed his step as two bearded young men who couldn’t have been more than twenty ran toward him. They carried rifles on their backs, but neither of them reached for their weapons. Oddly, they lifted their hands and waved as they trotted up, stuffed pockets and belt pouches clinking with each step.

  “I don’t think he’s real, Jimmy,” one man whispered to the other as they slowed in front of Leonidas and Alisa.

  “I bet he is. Look how big he is,” the other whispered back.

  Even though Alisa could not see Leonidas’s face inside of his helmet, she felt certain that his jaw had tightened in anticipation of a slight.

  “He’d be perfect,” the first one said, then raised his voice. “Sir, are you a guide?”

  “A what?” Leonidas asked.

  Alisa noticed the spy box stopping to hover in place, keeping its spot ten feet behind them. She almost nudged Leonidas to point it out, but remembered that he had a rear camera in his helmet. He would be well aware of it.

  “A monster-hunting guide,” the one called Jimmy said. “We’re looking to bag some dinos, get some reward money. We’d split it with our guide,
of course.”

  “I’m not a—”

  Alisa touched Leonidas’s chest plate to interrupt him. “What kind of reward money?”

  “The boss pays five thousand a head. Ten thousand for the T-rexes. But hardly anyone is dumb enough to go out after them. Most that try don’t come back.”

  “Why are there bounties on the dinosaurs?” Alisa asked.

  “To get people to hunt them, of course.”

  “Of course,” she murmured.

  “Also, they eat the tourists.”

  “Is tourism an actual industry here?” Alisa couldn’t believe anyone would come to this dreary moon for a vacation. Anyone except Yumi. Maybe mycology tourism was big.

  “The boss is working on expanding the races and getting more people in who want to gamble. That’s what we’ve heard. We’ve only been here three days ourselves. But we’re dying to take down some dinos and prove ourselves.”

  “Well,” Alisa said softly, knowing Leonidas would hear, “if Beck can’t get us a cargo, we have a backup source of income.”

  He snorted.

  “What, are cyborgs too proud to hunt monsters for money?” she asked.

  “No, but imperial officers are.”

  “They sound snooty.”

  “They’re noble.”

  “Nobly snooty?” Alisa thought about swatting him on the butt, but didn’t know if he would find that playful or egregious when done in a public place. Or when done at all. Would he even feel it if someone touched his butt while he wore all that armor? He didn’t seem to feel bullets or blazer bolts.

  Leonidas ignored her last comment and told the men, “I am not a guide.”

  “Could you be convinced to come out with us, anyway? We’d be willing to go fifty-fifty with you.”

  “No.”

  “Can we give you our comm number in case you change your mind?” One touched the perky purple earstar looped over his helix.

  “No,” Leonidas said.

  The young men slunk off, their shoulders drooping.

  “I hate to tell you this, Leonidas,” Alisa said, “but you are snooty.”