“Nah. As far as I know, they aren’t good for anything. But then, I didn’t exactly go to biology class after I got dumped here. Might be all sorts of animals with abilities I don’t know anything about.”
Moe frowned. Granted, he hadn’t been there long and hadn’t done much in the way of exploring, but— “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any animals since I landed.”
“That’s because dwithans mainly come out at night. There aren’t as many in the inhabited sections of the city as there used to be, though.” He tapped his nearly nonexistent chin with a contemplative fingertip. “Not sure why that is.”
“Hunted to near extinction?” Moe suggested—a possibility to which any Zetithian could relate.
“Could be. You used to see them everywhere.”
Moe wasn’t too surprised that their numbers were dwindling. Haedus Nine was the closest thing to a dead planet he’d ever seen. “Maybe that’s because there isn’t anything for them to eat. Do any plants actually grow here?”
“Not a lot in the city,” Temfilk replied. “Things are a little less dead farther out.”
“You’ve been there?”
“Yeah. Not much to see, though. Just a bunch of wilted trees and a few weird-looking spiky things.”
“Some sort of cactus, you mean?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Dunno what they’re called. All I know is there wasn’t much to eat out that way, so we came back here where there was at least something to steal. We’d hoped to find edible stuff growing wild, but no such luck. Hardly any water, either.”
That explained why most of the cargo Moe had delivered had been foodstuffs and drinking water rather than the usual high-tech components. The Haedusians must’ve been hanging on by a thread. If it hadn’t been for interstellar traffic, they probably would’ve died out long ago. They certainly weren’t exporting anything. Moe had tried to arrange to pick up cargo for the return trip and didn’t come up with anything except passengers, which was unusual for any planet—none that were on the established trade routes, anyway—although that location might be the problem. Haedus Nine and its spindly, chronically destitute inhabitants appeared to have been sucked dry. But by whom?
Maybe their sun had simply gotten brighter. He’d heard of other planets drying up about the time their sun went supernova.
Is that happening here?
Temfilk made a loud pop with his fingertips, regaining Moe’s attention. “Listen, if you don’t want to talk anymore, I’ll go on to bed.”
“Sorry. I was just…thinking.”
“Plenty of time for that.” Temfilk sighed. “It’s pretty boring around here most days. But we’re getting short of food, and with one more mouth to feed, I’m guessing the boss will start planning another raid on the shops.” He gazed at Moe with hopeful eyes. “Unless you have a better idea.”
“Like how to get off this planet?” Moe shook his head. “I need to think on that some more. I’ll let you know what I come up with.” From what he’d seen, organizing a mass exodus wouldn’t have been too hard. The natives themselves would probably jump at the chance to evacuate.
“Sounds good. See you later.” With a quick wave, he turned and started off down the hallway. “I’m shutting down the power now.”
Moe waited until the flap-flap of Temfilk’s flipperlike feet died away before closing the door and activating the glowstone. A quick survey of the room proved that Nexbit either didn’t have any personal possessions or he kept them somewhere else. Aside from the makeshift bed, all he saw was a pile of what were probably the Sympaticon’s clothes in the corner. He sat down on the bed and pulled off his boots before lying down and dousing the glowstone.
Coming up with a plan didn’t take very long. With virtually no resources, their best bet was to gain access—legally or illegally—to a communications relay and send out a deep space com to his relatives. After all, his wasn’t the only starship in the family.
Surely someone would volunteer to pick them up.
Chapter 6
This wasn’t the first sleepless night Klara had endured and it probably wouldn’t be the last. It was, however, the first she’d ever spent thinking about a man she wasn’t planning to capture or kill.
Granted, Moe was the first Zetithian male she’d ever encountered, which was more than enough to provide food for thought. But that didn’t explain what set him apart from any man she’d ever known.
Or perhaps it did. Her own mother had been smitten enough with Trag to risk everything for the chance to lay with him and bear his children. There was something fishy about that. Almost as if the mere presence of a Zetithian man was enough to coerce women into doing things counter to their own best interests, perhaps even their own survival. She and Moe were both half Zetithian, which might make her more susceptible to him than most. There again, she simply didn’t know.
Still, she’d looked at him the way a woman looks at a man to whom she is attracted. Sexually. Klara had never viewed a man in that light in her life. In fact, the feeling was so foreign to her, she was surprised she could even recognize it for what it was.
But if she was attracted to him, why did she want to bite him?
She’d also hissed at him—twice—which was something else she’d never done before.
Whatever the reason for her strange behavior, she needed to be rid of him before she did something incredibly stupid. Living by one’s wits meant steering clear of anything and everything that might rob her of them.
Right now, Moe Tshevnoe was at the top of that list.
The moment Moe realized he was awake, he took the time to assess his surroundings. First off, he wasn’t tied up. Second, he was still lying on the bed he’d gone to sleep in.
So far, so good.
Thirdly, he was alone in the room. He didn’t even need to open his eyes to know that. One sniff confirmed it.
The next test would be whether the door was locked. He got up and crossed the room to the door only to find that it wasn’t even latched.
He paused in the doorway, listening. Silence reverberated throughout the building. Had he been abandoned?
Nexbit was supposed to wake him for the next watch. It was still dark. Maybe it wasn’t as late as he thought. Returning to the command room, he saw nothing. Nothing, that is, beyond an overstuffed leather chair he hadn’t noticed before.
Fixing his gaze on the back of the chair, he saw the chair do something chairs rarely did. It blinked.
“Hey, Moe,” the chair said. “I was about to wake you.”
“Sure you were,” Moe scoffed, determined not to appear startled. “If I’m not mistaken, your eyes were closed when I first walked in here.”
The chair drew back in surprise. “Wow. You must have some super-good night vision to have seen that, although the boss can see pretty well in the dark too.”
“It’s a Zetithian thing,” Moe said with a shrug. “By the way, what would you have done if I’d sat on you?”
“Shoved you off, I suppose,” the chair said as it slowly began to change form. “That’s what I usually do whenever Temfilk tries it. Then again, if I wanted to remain hidden, I would’ve just let you sit there.”
“For how long?”
“Until I got tired of the extra weight, which probably would’ve taken until morning.” Nexbit’s arms appeared to sprout from the armrests as the bottom of the chair divided to form his legs. Once his neck was fully extended, he stood and yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “I’m quite patient on the whole.”
“Apparently.” While others had often remarked on his own seemingly endless patience, Moe doubted he could top that. But then, he couldn’t morph into a chair, either. “Now that I’m up, you might as well head off to bed. Pleasant dreams.”
“What?” Nexbit’s expression was as blank as only a Sympaticon’s could be, meaning his face flattened into a featureless mask with eyes. “Oh. Right. Forgot about that dreams thing. Sympaticons don’t dream.”
“I never knew that,” Moe said. “Sleep well, then.”
“Always do,” Nexbit said cheerfully. “No dreams to wake me up, and I usually give myself a larger bladder so I don’t have to get up during the night.”
“Must be nice,” Moe grumbled. While he had no reason to dislike his body’s permanent shape, the advantages of being a shifter were legion. For example, anytime a Sympaticon needed to reach something on a high shelf, they could simply make themselves taller. Too bad they seldom chose to make themselves more attractive. Although what was attractive to other species was possibly hideous to a Sympaticon.
“It is.” Waving a claw-like hand, Nexbit ambled toward the doorway, then paused. “Don’t be surprised if the boss wanders in. She doesn’t sleep much.”
Given what Moe already knew about Klara, this wasn’t unexpected. “Tell me something… Temfilk said you were all kidnapped and then abandoned here before teaming up with Klara.”
“That’s right,” Nexbit said, sounding slightly wary.
“If you’re a team, why do you all refer to her as your boss? I mean, you aren’t required to call her that, are you?”
“Oh, no,” Nexbit replied. “Temfilk’s the one who started it. I forget when it was, exactly, but we were all feeling sort of skeptical about one of her schemes until Temfilk shrugged and said, ‘Well, you’re the boss.’ We’ve been calling her that ever since.”
Moe suspected there was more to it than that. They didn’t only call her the boss, they acted like she truly was their superior. “You’re sure there aren’t any other reasons?”
Nexbit’s version of a toothy grin was enough to give anyone the creeps. “Maybe a few. She’s the oldest and the smartest. Without her leadership, we probably would’ve died a long time ago. Why do you ask?”
“No reason, really. Just curious.” Moe had insisted that Klara treat him as her equal, and she’d agreed to that stipulation. But if she was used to being in charge and always having the last word, they might not get along very well. Moe could be as cooperative and easygoing as the next guy, but there were limits. “I notice the Racks don’t say much. Does she have them trained or what?”
“They aren’t your typical Racks,” Nexbit replied. “Their loyalty to Klara borders on worship. They wouldn’t take kindly to anyone who tried to hurt her.”
The warning was perfectly clear, although Moe suspected that in any altercations between himself and Klara, he doubted she would be the injured party. Moe could be tough when he needed to be, but Klara struck him as having a ruthless streak even wider than his mother’s. After all, Jack had stopped killing Nedwuts twenty years ago, despite her claim that it was an extremely hard habit to break. Klara was still doing it. Nevertheless, he deemed it best not to ruffle any more feathers than necessary. “I’ll be sure to watch my step.”
The Sympaticon made an odd sound, somewhere between a grunt and a clearing of the throat. “I wasn’t necessarily referring to you. But apparently I’ve made my point.”
“You have. I won’t hurt her as long as she doesn’t double cross me. If she does that, all bets are off.”
“Can’t say I blame you, but right now, I’m going to bed. May the rest of your night be uneventful.” After punctuating this blessing with a half-hearted bow in Moe’s direction, he shuffled off down the hallway.
Once again, Moe was left alone with his thoughts—until Klara entered the room with all the stealth of a mountain cat. The glow from her eyes would’ve identified her, even if he hadn’t been able to actually see her. Judging from the way she was dressed—the same gray tunic and trousers she’d been wearing when she left the room earlier—she hadn’t even tried to sleep. Either that or she’d given up entirely.
“What’s the matter?” he asked in an unruffled tone. “Can’t sleep?”
“Lifelong affliction.” She plopped down on the battered sofa that sat against the far wall.
Moe had chosen to sit on a plain wooden chair, not wishing to risk contact with whatever vermin the sofa might be harboring. Klara must’ve either been immune or didn’t care. “Nexbit said you might wander in. Something on your mind?”
“Lots of things,” she replied. “The gang tells me I worry too much.” Sighing, she added, “They’re probably right.”
“Someone has to worry about them. And since they call you the boss, I guess that’s you.”
The glow from her pupils brightened for a moment. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Something like that.” Her gaze slid away from him. “You do understand, don’t you? I don’t know why that should surprise me, but it does.”
“It surprises you because you’ve never dealt with anyone like me, have you?” Without waiting for her reply, he continued, “You really need to get off this planet. Living here has skewed your perspective in ways you probably aren’t even aware of. And if we do manage to get out of here, you’ll have some serious adjusting to do. Not everyone you meet will be out to get you or take advantage of you. Some will, of course, but you don’t need to leap to that conclusion every time.”
Her nod was barely perceptible. “I get that. But we haven’t left Haedus yet, and it might be a good long while before we do.”
“True. In the meantime, you can practice on me. I have no ulterior motives or hidden agendas. I want to leave here as much as you do.”
“And after that?”
Moe stared at her blankly. “I guess I’ll have to figure out what happened to my ship and try to get it back. Or I could get a job as a navigator on someone else’s ship.” He chuckled. “Although once you’ve been the captain, it’s kinda hard to stomach a lower rank.”
“After I leave here, I won’t be the boss anymore, either. Like you said, it’ll take some getting used to.” She shifted in her seat as though this prospect caused her some discomfort. “Speaking of leaving here, any ideas yet?”
“A few,” Moe replied. “Sending out a deep space com to my family would be best. Know where to find a public communications relay?”
A mirthless laugh escaped her. “Several. We’d have to break in to use them, though.”
“Couldn’t we simply offer to pay a fee?”
“Pay? Seriously?”
“Well, yeah,” Moe said cautiously. “That’s what most people do when they have need of goods and services.” He studied her through narrowed lids. “Are you saying you’ve never bought anything?”
“Of course I have,” she snapped. “But we usually steal whatever we need. Interacting with merchants puts us in too much danger.”
Danger of what, she didn’t say, although he could safely assume that her “nemesis” had spies everywhere—or at least some folks willing to report back to him in the hope of a reward. Getting familiar with anybody would be risky. “You really don’t trust anyone, do you?”
She shook her head. “If you were in my situation, would you?”
“Maybe not,” he conceded. “But money talks, and I have plenty—or I did before you took it from me. Besides, as far as I know, the only hit list I’m on is yours. Nobody else bothered me before I got into that fight, and I’m sure I wasn’t the first offworlder to take a swing at some Herp in a bar.”
“I’m not the only one who preys on unsuspecting offworlders, either. You still might not be safe.”
“If the gladiator trade is that lucrative, it’s a wonder there are any offworlders left.” He paused. “Speaking of money, is there some reason you haven’t given mine back? Like you’ve lost it or spent it or given it away?” Once again, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Or did you use it to pay someone off? Like maybe those Nedwuts?”
For the first time, she seemed uncomfortable. Or at least at a loss for words.
“You don’t actually kill Nedwuts, do you? You pay them off.”
“I have killed several,” she said stiffly. “When I had no other choice.”
Moe barked out a laugh. “No wonder you’ve never amassed enough cash to buy your way off this hellhole. You’ve been paying hush money
to what-his-name’s henchmen.”
Fire radiated from her glowing pupils. “What are you talking about?”
“You know… the guy who wants you as his concubine.”
Her jaw dropped as she sat up straight. “Who told you that?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t tell—”
She cut him off with a snort. “Never mind. It had to be Temfilk. Nobody else talks as much as he does. So help me, I’m gonna wring his scrawny little neck.”
Moe was somewhat taken aback by her apparent anger. “Why is telling me such a bad thing? I was bound to figure it out eventually.”
Fists clenched and fangs bared, she spat out, “I don’t know why Pelarus wants me. We haven’t spoken to one another since before my mother was killed, and I have no intention of starting now.”
“But you believe it’s true, don’t you? I mean, if he wanted your mother, it stands to reason he’d want you now that you’ve grown up.”
She leaned back with her arms folded across her chest. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Not really,” Moe said with a slow wag of his head. “I don’t know if anybody’s ever told you this, but you’re—”
“I’m what?” she demanded when he hesitated.
He sucked in a breath. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re very attractive.”
There. He’d said it. And he couldn’t take back those words even if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t. He was, after all, telling the truth.
“Attractive?”
Her incredulous squeak forced Moe to rethink his word choice. “Should I have said beautiful? Either one is true, you know.”
“No, I don’t know,” she retorted. “I may be different from every other female on this planet, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m beautiful.”
Considering how hideous the Haedusians were, Moe would’ve judged her to be the prettiest by default. However, a moment’s reflection enabled him to understand her perspective. With no others enough like her for comparison and little or no contact with other worlds, how could she possibly know? Even if she’d had a job at the spaceport, she wouldn’t have seen very many Zetithians. As captain of the Jolly Roger, his own mother traded in legal goods throughout the galaxy, and she rarely took this route. In fact, Moe was fairly certain he was the only member of his family to ever set foot on Haedus Nine.
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