by Dan Moren
Putting on his most ingratiating smile, he caught the eye of the server, a large man who looked like he could moonlight as a professional wrestler. “I guess you better show me to your sink.”
An hour later, he stepped out of Radomski’s Ramen, rolling down his sleeves. He was a little damp around the edges, but nothing that wouldn’t dry.
Nat was leaning against the bulkhead opposite, a self-satisfied smile on her lips. “Learning the value of a credit?”
“I’ll have you know washing dishes was my specialty back when I was a private at Salinas.”
“I clearly did not take enough advantage of that skill.”
“Your loss.” He glanced around. “You got the drop, I take it?”
“Yeah, I got it. Then I caught sight of you hard at work, and figured I’d wait around to pick up my man. Anyway, the chip’s toast and I brought you a present.” She tossed him an earbud. “Encrypted backchannel’s up and ready to roll.”
“You always pick the best gifts,” he said, tapping it to his sleeve to link and activate it. He tucked it into his right ear.
“All right, Updraft, Bruiser,” said Nat. “Corsair’s on the line.”
The comm crackled to life in Kovalic’s ear, with the gruff tones of Tapper. “Good to hear from you, boss. We sideways already?”
“When aren’t we?”
“I’m still not sure I’ve seen any of your plans go right,” came Brody’s voice.
“All right, all right,” said Kovalic, glancing at his sleeve to check the time. “Rendezvous in an hour at location Charlie and we’ll do a full sitrep. Keep a close eye on your six and it’s probably best not to go back to your rooms.”
Nat’s expression had lost any hint of joviality. “That bad?” she murmured.
“Worse.”
“Oh. Great.”
“Boss?” Brody piped up. “What about Maverick?”
Kovalic rubbed his chin. He’d left Sayers to the high-rollers suite and he didn’t have an easy way to find her since he’d ditched his sleeve. “She’ll probably go back to the stateroom. Bruiser, go keep an eye on the place – but keep it low profile, huh?”
“At his height, his profile’s always pretty low,” Brody cracked.
“Shut it, kid,” said Tapper. “Bruiser out.”
Kovalic tapped his earbud off, ignoring the tightness in his chest. That sort of surveillance job was the kind of thing Page had excelled at, but they had to use the resources at their disposal, and that meant having Tapper try to act inconspicuous.
Nat leaned against the wall. “I don’t love the idea of having her out of pocket.”
“She can take care of herself.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant.”
No, it wasn’t. He knew that. But right now Sayers was on her own, and one way or another, they’d be finding out whether she was up for the job.
CHAPTER 14
At a flick of Xi’s fingers, Addy’s bag was plucked deftly from her grasp by one of the security officers. Maybe she could have put up a fight, but this wasn’t the time or the place.
The security officer removed the KO-gun and checked the charge, then offered it to Xi, who waved it away. “I hope you don’t mind, Ms Bell,” she said. “I understand that personal safety is important, but we do of course have a strict policy against weapons onboard. For the safety of all our passengers.”
Easy come, easy go. She just hoped the stunned Illyrican wouldn’t pick this moment to come charging out of the bathroom or there would be even more questions.
“Of course,” was all she said.
“Thank you,” said Xi, giving her a dazzling smile, and then linking an arm through Addy’s. “In that case, as I said, I’m most interested in talking with you. Perhaps I can offer you some light refreshment in my personal suite?” Not waiting for Addy’s answer, she steered them both back towards the staircase. Addy couldn’t help but notice the looks cast her way – they were pretty evenly split between those who looked envious at the attention and those who looked relieved that it wasn’t them.
Not that I’m totally sure how I should be feeling about this myself…
At the top of the stairs, the guards opened the doors onto yet another strata of the Queen Amina. Beyond, a small entryway led into a much larger room that looked like a museum gallery.
Which was because, Addy realized after a moment, it was a museum gallery.
Xi’s collection.
Peppered throughout the room were pedestals and glass cases holding everything from clay pots to bronze sculptures to full suits of armor. Paintings lined the walls, some famous enough that Addy even recognized them.
“Wow,” she breathed. “Are these all…”
“Real?” Xi’s eyelids lowered as she smiled. “Yes. They are very real. And very expensive.” She gestured with one hand, a series of gold bangles jingling on her wrist. “You might say I’m a bit of a collector.”
“Of what?”
“Of everything. Or anything. Whatever catches my fancy.” She continued leading Addy by the elbow, gently but firmly, through the gauntlet of antiquities. “This amulet of Anubis dates back to at least 300 years BC,” she said, pointing to a blue-green glazed ceramic of a jackal-headed figure. “I acquired it three years ago because something about it spoke to me.” She lingered, contemplating the figure, then shrugged. “I wanted it, so I bought it.”
Continuing down the aisle between the cases, Addy’s gaze jumped to each new item. A full suit of samurai armor – “worn by Tokugawa Ieyasu himself,” Xi murmured – then a collection of Roman coins – “from Caesar’s time” – to watercolors from the late twenty-second century – “Alazar’s green period was his shortest, but perhaps his most brilliant.” Her head spinning with the sensory overload, Addy was aware that she ought to be paying closer attention to her guide and less to the surroundings, but she was craning her neck this way and that, trying to take it all in… and trying to find one particular item.
The tablet. It must be here somewhere. But even as she cast her gaze over the room – faking a look of awe wasn’t proving difficult – she didn’t catch sight of anything that looked like the item she’d seen at the auction.
As they reached another pair of double doors at the far end of the gallery, Addy finally managed to clear her head. Don’t get tunnel vision. “This is truly amazing, Madam Xi. But why exactly am I here?”
Xi raised a finger as if suddenly remembering something. “Ah, yes. Of course, of course. Come with me and let us have some tea.” At a snap of her fingers, the doors opened into an elegant sitting room, an impressive simulacrum of a fire flickering to life – at least, Addy assumed it was a hologram, as she couldn’t imagine even the most self-indulgent person would be daring enough to risk open flame on a spaceship. A pair of leather sofas flanked a glass and steel table. As Xi lowered herself into one, her dress flickered orange in sympathy with the fire.
Addy cast a last, reluctant glance over her shoulder at the gallery, but trying to linger there when Xi clearly had something else in mind was going to look suspicious. She’d have to make another opportunity.
From behind a rattan screen, an attendant in White Star livery appeared bearing a tray with an iron tea pot, a strainer, and a pair of cups. Bowing to Xi, he placed them on the table between them and then withdrew.
Xi smiled again, graciously, and poured the tea through the strainer into the cups. “I wanted to meet you, Charlotte – may I call you Charlotte? – because, frankly, I was impressed.” She raised the cup to her lips and eyed Addy over the rim. “I am not often impressed.”
“Um… thank you?”
Taking a sip, Xi held the cup in her hands, as though warming them. “You wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer when it came to getting into the executive lounge. And, once you were there, you proceeded to handily clean out a few top players without breaking much of a sweat.” One of her carefully sculpted eyebrows rose a fraction.
Great, I’ve gotten t
he attention of an arms dealer. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“So it would seem. Where else you have played? The Montserrat on Jericho? Kipling’s Starburst?”
Addy vaguely recognized those as casinos, even though she’d never set foot in either. “Oh, here and there. You know. Mostly self taught.”
“Ah,” said Xi, her dark eyes lighting up. They almost seemed to shift towards a brighter auburn color as they did so, flecks in them turning iridescent. “A self-made woman. Even more impressive.” She took another sip of tea, then nodded at the other cup.
Addy’s cheeks flushed and she nipped her tongue beneath her teeth. She was doing a super job of blending in here. Couldn’t even remember to take a drink when it was offered. Picking up the cup she took a sip. It was surprisingly smooth, with only a hint of astringency underneath.
“Another of my little luxuries,” said Xi, raising the cup. “Did you know all tea – real tea, anyway – comes from a single species of plant? Camellia sinensis. It’s a tree that can grow up to five stories tall, but only the top inch or two of leaves are used for tea. The plants are routinely trimmed back so that those leaves can grow again. I have sympathy for that kind of work.” Her bangled hand waved at the museum gallery through which they had passed. “My collection is much the same. Only the choicest artifacts from human history.” Those intense eyes landed on Addy once again, their lids lowering, revealing a gold tint. “And I take the same approach to people. I only want to know the very best.”
Addy swallowed as heat rose to her cheeks. “I’m flattered, Madam Xi.” The last time this much scrutiny had been fixated on her had probably been her final juvenile court appearance. Not a memory she wanted conjured up right now. “Your reputation precedes you.”
“Oh?” said Xi, her voice taking on a playful tone. “What do they say about me?”
Just what I need: a gangster fishing for compliments. Not for the first time, Addy missed problems you could solve with punching. “That you’re smart. Obviously. And perceptive. Demanding, but fair.”
“Is that all?”
Oh well, take a shot. “Nobody mentioned that you were beautiful.”
Xi’s eyes widened, but feigned modesty quickly reasserted control. Addy covered with a sip of tea. Maybe she wasn’t so bad at this after all. It helped, though, that the sentiment was far from false.
“Confident and capable, and we can add charming to the list too,” said Xi, a smile curving across her lips. “I think I would like to get to know you better, indeed.”
Addy’s heart give a hard thump. But she was saved with having to come up with a clever response when the attendant reappeared from behind the screen, then bent down and murmured something to Xi. Annoyance flitted across her face and she shooed him away, turning back to Addy.
“I’m sorry to cut this short, my dear, but I’m afraid I have another appointment. I’ve most enjoyed our conversation, though. Perhaps we could continue it over dinner this evening?”
There was a buzz in Addy’s head, equal parts relief and disappointment, but “exploit opportunities” had been another of Colonel Benton’s maxims, and, more to the point, Xi didn’t seem like the type of person who took ‘no’ for an answer.
“I’d be delighted,” said Addy.
“Splendid.” Xi rose, all elegance and grace as colors rolled across her dress like a waterfall.
A cough came from over Addy’s shoulder, and she saw another flash of irritation dart through Xi’s eyes. A man stood in the doorway, halfway in and halfway out, as though he couldn’t decide which direction to go.
“Come in, doctor,” said Xi, not quite heaving a sigh.
“Pardon me, madam. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” His voice was soft and cultured, and he wrung his hands slightly.
“It’s quite all right,” said Xi in a tone that suggested it wasn’t. “Ms Bell, Dr Seku al-Kitab.”
The man bowed. He had a kindly lined face with a neat black mustache and goatee. A gray tweed suit, worn at the edges, overlaid a matching waistcoat and an open collared shirt. Not the kind of man Addy would expect to find in Xi’s company, but if he was a doctor, perhaps that explained it.
The real question is what does Xi need with a doctor?
“Nice to meet you,” said Addy, extending her hand.
Al-Kitab shook it quickly, his hand feathering in and out of Addy’s grasp like a frightened bird.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” said Addy. “I hope it’s nothing serious, doctor.”
The man looked confused for a moment, then his expression cleared. “Oh, not that kind of doctor. Actually, my speciality is–”
“Now, now,” said Xi, interposing herself between the two, “let’s not bore Ms Bell with all the details.”
“My apologies,” said al-Kitab, looking crestfallen.
“Ms Bell, I look forward to seeing you later,” said Xi, reaching out to press her hand. The woman’s grip was smooth and warm, and it sent a thrill through Addy that she couldn’t entirely explain.
The attendant reappeared, but as he escorted Addy to the door she could hear al-Kitab mounting a wavering protest. “Madam Xi, I must once again respectfully request access to your vault if I’m to be able to do the job I was brought here–”
The rest was cut off by the door sliding shut.
Back in the executive lounge, Addy collected her bag – sans the KO-gun – and had her winnings deposited into her account, then headed back to their room to report in.
But the stateroom was empty when she returned. She swapped her outfit for something more casual, then tried to call Kovalic, with no luck. He’d want to hear everything about her contact with Xi.
Doubt nibbled at her, though. What had she really learned so far? Not much beyond Xi’s penchant for collecting, which they’d already known, and maybe that she liked tea. Not exactly critical intelligence. After the chewing out she’d gotten on Tseng-Tao’s Divide, anything Addy delivered was going to need to be gift-wrapped if she were going to start climbing out of the hole with Kovalic and Taylor. Dinner would hopefully prove a fruitful opportunity to learn more about the ship’s dynamic proprietor, and she had to admit that she found herself looking forward to it on both professional and personal levels.
At the thought of dinner, her stomach gurgled, reminding her that all she’d had today was coffee, whiskey, and tea. No use trying to think on an empty stomach, and sitting around just waiting for Kovalic to show up wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She imagined she could be trusted to get some lunch.
When she reached the esplanade, it was already packed with everyone from people in suits on their way to the casino or important meetings to kids running around the stalls and stores while their parents chased gamely after them.
As she made her way through the mass of people, Addy caught a whiff of spices – chili, cumin, za’atar – from a paquet stand, instantly transporting her back to her childhood, navigating the streets and crowds of Salaam, stealing food off the carts, and most importantly, avoiding the cops.
The cops. Kovalic said he’d chosen Addy because she could think like a criminal, but maybe she needed to start thinking like a cop instead. Boyland would have known what to do.
The paunchy cop had collared her one day when she was running with Schenk and Ali; they’d slipped away before he could nab them, but she hadn’t been so lucky. Boyland had given her scrawny frame one look and sighed. ‘Too small. Going to have to throw you back.’ He’d taken her to a paquet cart, not too different from this one; she’d been worried, at first, that he was one of those sketchy adults that Schenk and the others had always warned against, but if there was one thing the street had instilled in her, it was a judgement of character. It became clear pretty quickly that Boyland was the rare person who was exactly what he purported to be: world-weary, but always willing to see the best in people. He’d done right by her then, and he’d continued to do so for the rest of his life.
Must be too many
onions, Addy thought as she got to the front of the line, wiping away the stinging in her eyes. She ordered a trio from the man behind the counter.
When the paquets arrived, they were spicy and savory, but just a little bit bitter – not as good as the ones she’d had when she was younger. Or had they always tasted that way? She sat in one of the parklets on the esplanade and watched the crowd go by.
She wasn’t sure how to reconcile all these civilians and families with Ofeibia Xi. The woman she’d met an hour ago didn’t seem like the type to concern herself with amusements, or, for that matter, meet with academics. But Boyland would have said to see who someone really was, you had to dissect the image they wanted you to see.
Her pulse quickened when she thought of Xi. Why was the head of a galaxy-spanning crime syndicate so interested in her? That kind of attention ought to have Addy ducking for cover, but instead she just found herself… curious. Nothing about Xi was what she’d expected from the woman’s reputation; she didn’t seem so much ruthless as she did driven. And why shouldn’t she be? The woman had climbed her way to the top of an empire. There would always be some people who saw her as a threat, no doubt, but it didn’t necessarily mean she was a villain.
And someone that driven didn’t make a business move or meet with someone without a reason.
Addy’s breath caught and she nearly dropped the last of her paquets in her haste to bring up her sleeve. A search for “Seku al-Kitab” yielded only one result in the ship’s onboard databases: a faculty list for Rizkin University on Hamza, the department of archaeology, where he researched extraterrestrial archaeology. Next to the name was a picture of the man she’d met in Xi’s quarters an hour prior. It was right in front of my goddamn face.
So focused was Addy on the screen that she didn’t at first register the man who sat down on the bench behind her. But suddenly he was there, and she cursed herself for letting her guard down. He hadn’t been particularly subtle; she should have seen him a mile away.
“That smells delicious,” said Tapper, nodding at the paquet. “Hope you brought enough for the whole class. Come on, the boss wants us.”
