“What would that entail, exactly?” Ryce asked. He glanced at Matt, but the look was too brief to decipher his intention.
“You would be working under my direct supervision. We have established a temporary camp on the moon, as most of the work would be conducted on-site. We’re offering a six-month contract with an option for extending it. The terms are negotiable, of course, but I think you’ll find them very generous as they currently stand.”
Matt’s heart sank a little at those words. Six months was a hell of a long time, and it could potentially be even longer. This could effectively spell a death sentence for their budding relationship. Not because he didn’t trust Ryce or himself to stay faithful for so long, but because it would give Ryce yet another chance to reflect on his life choices and come to the inevitable realization that by attaching himself to Matt he’d chosen poorly.
“Our goal is to explore the site while inflicting as little damage as possible to the existing structure,” Colonel Mensah continued. “Major Cummings assured me you have the expertise required to decode the various writings so we might have a better understanding of what we’re dealing with. And, frankly, your Fleet record speaks for itself.”
“Thank you,” Ryce said. “That is certainly a very interesting proposal. But I do need some time to consider it, if I may.”
“Of course. Take a few days to think about it.”
Matt stared at the floor while they concluded the conversation. He couldn’t wait for them to disconnect and muttered his goodbyes to Nora, even though he knew it probably made him look like a petulant child.
“What do you think?” Ryce swiveled in his chair to face him. “You barely said a word.”
“You can’t possibly fool yourself as to the real purpose behind the excavation,” Matt said. “Research might be a big part of it, but the military isn’t academia. They don’t do research which isn’t applicative to their needs, and at present, all their needs are focused on the war effort. They’re hoping to find more than one kind of weapon in the secret Mnirian base, or perhaps new technology they can harness.”
“I’m aware of the possible implications in that regard,” Ryce said, pursing his lips. “Without a doubt, it’s something I’d have to consider carefully before making any kind of decision. But it’s not quite what I meant when I asked for your opinion.”
Matt took a deep breath. Please don’t go, he wanted to say. Please don’t leave me again. I don’t want to lose you.
But he couldn’t. He had to give Ryce the space to shine like the star he was always meant to be—beautiful, distant, and bright.
“It sounds like a good opportunity,” he managed to say into Ryce’s expectant silence. “I think you should take it.”
Something close to incredulity fleeted across Ryce’s features. He stared at Matt, and his jaw worked.
“I believe her when she says it’s a generous contract,” he said slowly. “I mean, this could probably help our financial situation a bit.”
“Sure sounds like it.” Matt could hear the insincerity in his voice, which meant Ryce could probably hear it too, but really, Ryce didn’t have to pretend this was for their mutual benefit.
Or that he was going to come back.
Chapter Eight
MATT LOUNGED AGAINST the bar, nursing his beer. It had been the same beer for the last half an hour, and he’d barely touched it. It wasn’t like he had the money to splurge on another round.
Nobody knew what he was doing, including Tony. She would definitely chew him out for getting mixed up with a black-market dealer—especially considering what they’d gone through when Matt had tried doing business with one in the past. And she’d be right, of course. But Matt wasn’t planning on taking on any questionable loans or jobs this time around. The only reason he wanted to get close to this Griggs fellow was to find out more about Ander, and that required some semblance of an excuse. Being hard up for cash was the perfect pretext for wanting to meet with a loan shark. Matt just wished it had been a little less real.
He had promised Val he’d help, and he was going to do his best to try. He had to focus on things he could do something about, as opposed to things he couldn’t—most of them having to do with Ryce in some form or other.
The bartender from the Broken Stairway Canteen had proven to be a big help after all. His job entailed knowing a lot of useful people on the station, and after some prodding and bribing, the guy had agreed to spread the word of Matt’s interest in the right ears. So, he was hanging around, waiting on the promised meeting.
He didn’t know if making him wait was some sort of tactic, or if Griggs was really that busy. But he was definitely starting to get cranky and seriously considering up and leaving when a woman plopped on the seat beside him. She wore a black faux-leather vest and had a hardened look to her face—which was accentuated by a long scar that ran from her cheek down to her neck.
“Hi,” she said in a business-like tone. “I’m Tex.”
“Hi,” Matt said cautiously. He was no stranger to women approaching him in bars, but even his current unwaveringly monogamous status aside, she wasn’t exactly his type. He preferred his hookups, of any gender, to have less of a dangerous vibe going on.
“So, I heard you’re interested in a loan,” Tex said.
“I was expecting to meet Griggs.” If anything, this set Matt even more on edge. He didn’t have time to deal with mediators, especially the kind who looked suspiciously like enforcers.
“Griggs is otherwise occupied. It’s a big station.”
She was making it sound for all the world like Griggs was actually running the Freeport. And as much as Matt was familiar with the workings of various gray and black markets, this time, he was inclined to disagree. If it had taken him this long to even hear of the guy, he was hardly as all-powerful as he wished to appear.
“Whatever,” Matt muttered. He briefly considered walking away, but this was his only lead to finding Ander that didn’t involve tracking him down on a city-sized station. If this woman was authorized to make deals on Griggs’s behalf, she had to know other people who worked for him on roughly the same level. “So, what if I am interested in a loan?”
Tex smiled and spread her hands. It wasn’t a very comforting sort of smile.
“Whatever you need, Cap’n. Up to fifty thousand creds, for two months, at ten percent, no questions asked.”
“Really?” Matt’s ears perked up despite himself. These were actually good terms, as these kinds of loans went, and he didn’t even need that large a sum.
“Sure. We offer very lucrative funding options,” Tex said, a touch mockingly, and swiped the counter to order herself a vodka. “But, as it so happens, I might have an even better proposition for you.”
“I’m listening,” Matt said cautiously.
“It had come to our attention you’ve been having some…difficulties with your ship.”
Matt leaned back in his chair. He already didn’t like where this was going. “Where did you hear that?”
“It doesn’t matter. Word travels fast on this station, in case you haven’t already noticed.”
Matt huffed noncommittally and sipped his beer. “What’s the proposition?”
Tex leaned in, her dark eyes intent on his.
“Griggs is willing to cut you a deal. Give you the money you need for repairs and waive the debt altogether—in exchange for a small favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“You’re about to go into business with the IMA, running their far moon shipments.”
Matt nearly choked on his beer. What the hell. This went well beyond picking up station canteen gossip. Being privy to such information spelled out not only special interest in Matt’s affairs but also a pretty impressive network of informants.
“Nothing is settled yet,” he said, recovering from his initial shock. “In any case, what’s it to you?”
“IMA medical supplies are registered as Federal consignments. They don’t
get scrutinized at customs as much as the regular stuff. So, once in a while, Griggs might ask you to add a little something to your shipment without it appearing on the declaration form.”
“You want me to be his drug runner?” Matt asked, lowering his voice and glancing around.
Tex scoffed, correctly interpreting his incredulous expression. “Don’t get prissy all of a sudden. You’re a smuggler; don’t pretend like you haven’t done this before. Besides, you won’t be working for free. Once you work off the loan, you’ll get paid for each run. Griggs is being very generous, seeing you’re in a scrape. Can hardly say no to this kind of offer.”
Matt made a vague sound of assent and took a swig of his beer to stall. He didn’t even have to pretend to do some hard thinking, because he was doing precisely that. Tex was right in that it was a hard offer to refuse, but not because of how lucrative it was. This kind of thorough knowledge of his affairs was more than a little disconcerting. What kind of pressure might Griggs apply if he declined?
True, he was only a smuggler, but he was doing his best to stay on the straight and narrow, to carve out a new path for himself and his crew. Being caught carrying illegal drugs inside a medical supplies shipment would be the end of all their hopes and dreams.
Besides, Ryce would never go for something so illicit; he’d be appalled at the possibility. And he’d be right, of course. Even Matt was repulsed by the idea. But Ryce was leaving to pursue better opportunities anyway, and Matt still had the livelihood and safety of his crew to think about.
And he had to tread very carefully here. Being stranded ashore meant he couldn’t just raise anchor when trouble came calling. No doubt these people were counting on that exact thing. But, questionable offer aside, he had a specific purpose for being here, and he had to grab the opportunity by the horns while Tex was still regarding him as either a potential client or an accomplice.
“It’s a lot to think about,” he said. “But first, I must apologize for what happened with your associate the other day at the Canteen. It was all truly a misunderstanding. My crewman had a bit too much to drink, mistook him for the wrong guy. You know how it is. So I just wanted to clear the air on that one.”
If she was high enough on the food chain, she must have heard all about that debacle and would know exactly whom he was talking about.
Tex’s expression changed ever so slightly, and she tensed, making Matt momentarily fear he’d made a mistake. But then she relaxed just as quickly and merely shrugged without answering.
“I do feel bad about what happened to Mr.…Ander, was it? I’d like to offer my apologies to him in person, if possible,” Matt said, risking pressing the matter just a little bit further. “We started on the entirely wrong foot, and I’d be much more at peace knowing there’s no hard feelings, especially if we’re to do business together.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Tex said. “He ain’t pressing charges.”
“And I’m grateful for that,” Matt hastened to say. “But still, if you know where I could meet him—”
“I’m not Ander’s fucking assistant,” she snapped, turning to him sharply. “If you’re smart, you’ll stay away from him anyway. So, do you want to take the deal or not?”
Matt sat back. That was a little unexpected. Not the telling off, but the fear which clearly underlined Tex’s words. She looked like someone who wasn’t afraid of anything. So what was it about this Ander that caused this kind of reaction?
“Sorry,” he said, trying to appear as charmingly apologetic as he possibly could. “Didn’t mean to ruffle any feathers. Hmm…can I think about it some more and get back to you? I might have to consult with my crew on this one.”
“Just don’t go thinking too long. It’s a limited time offer.” Tex finished her vodka in two gulps and stood up. She took a couple more seconds to send her number to Matt’s commlink, and then was off.
Matt swiped the counter hurriedly to pay for his own unfinished beer. Again, he was going to do something that probably wasn’t wise, but time was of the essence, and he had to follow all the leads he’d gotten. So, he trailed after Tex as she walked out of the bar and into the communal corridor, keeping as much distance as he could between them while still able to spot her in the throng of people hurrying on their daily business. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was hoping to achieve by this little bit of snooping, but at least he had something to latch on to, and so he did.
The Freeport was built of two linked concentric rings, with the outer ring housing the docks and the common areas. The inner ring had restricted access and was designated for station personnel quarters and administration offices. Even on the larger outer ring, there weren’t any places that could truly be called crime hubs, since the Freeports were usually pretty tightly regulated, and the 73 was no exception. But it was a large place, populated by people of all walks of life and vocations, and, as such, it was bound to attract some shady characters and develop some shady spots. This was especially true for this particular station. The Elysium system was located on the outskirts of Federation space, enjoying neither economical nor strategic importance. As such, the 73 was somewhat understaffed compared to its more central counterparts, and military presence on the station—and indeed throughout the sector—was relatively scarce.
Tex was headed to the lower levels of the guest living quarters. These were let out to the residents and guests of the station, with rates varying wildly depending on the quality of the accommodations. Matt preferred to save by staying on his ship while they were stationside, even if it was less comfortable, but there were plenty of options available for those who chose the relative luxury of fully equipped en suite bathrooms and artificial gardens.
There weren’t a lot of people in this particular area, and Matt had to slow down to avoid being seen. For all he knew, Tex was going home, but he had a hunch she had some other business here.
Eventually, she stopped at an intersection of corridors that led to the individual suits. The space was designed as a lounge of sorts, with several benches facing large screens transmitting news, advertisements, and local announcements. One wall was covered with sustainable plants in an attempt to create a green spot of sorts, but a lot of them were wilted. The benches also showed signs of wear and poor upkeep.
Tex sat on one of the benches and started typing something furiously on her commlink. Matt hung back, hiding behind the corner of the corridor. It appeared she was planning on meeting somebody, perhaps another sod unfortunate enough to have to borrow creds from her boss. There was no way he could get any closer to take a peek at the message she was writing.
His own commlink vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it. It was probably either Ryce or Tony wondering where he was, and he’d be hard-pressed to explain his whereabouts at the moment.
Another ten or so minutes passed as Tex fiddled with her commlink. Matt was beginning to question whether it was worth his while to hang around any longer, when a man strode down the opposite corridor and sat beside Tex. Matt took an instinctive step back, retreating as much as he could into the shadows. There was no mistaking that spiky snow-white hair, and the last thing he wanted was for Frosty—Ander—to catch him eavesdropping.
Thankfully, the bench the two were sitting on faced the other way. If Matt was discreet enough, there was a good chance of him listening in on their conversation while staying safely out of sight.
“So, no go with Spears?” Ander asked. He was pretty relaxed, but next to him, Tex looked decidedly uneasy, even from the back. Matt wasn’t a big expert on body language, but she was definitely on edge, and he’d venture to guess it was due to Ander’s presence. Going on all the bits of information he’d gleaned from Val, he wasn’t surprised. He’d be nervous around a murderous psychopath too.
“Not sure yet,” Tex said.
“Well, we could always make a more convincing pitch,” Ander said. The tone of his voice sent chills down Matt’s back. The commlink vibrated again, and he cringed, but wit
h the added distraction of the news feed on the large screen in front of them, neither Tex nor Ander seemed to notice.
“He did ask about you,” Tex said. “Like, specifically. I think they might be after you. Spears and that big Russian dude of his. Thought you should know, just in case.”
“I ain’t worried about them.” Ander shrugged. “Besides, we’ve got other problems to deal with right now.”
“What kind of problems?”
Ander glanced to the side and lowered his voice. Matt had to strain to hear what he was saying. “We’ve lost another jet over there. Crashed and burned like a fucking firecracker.”
Tex made a low whistle. “It’s the second one of ours. And we’re yet to see any of them win a race. That’s not good.”
“Griggs’s pissed. It’s damn messy, and someone’s bound to pick up on what’s going on if it happens too often. That’s what you get when you hire shoddy pilots too pumped up on stims. Now we have to bust our asses to get a new jet. And a new pilot,” he added as an afterthought. “And that’s more money out of Griggs’s pocket right there.”
“No shit.”
This wasn’t a conversation he should have been listening to. Whatever these “races” were, Griggs probably wouldn’t appreciate Matt knowing anything about them. Hell, he didn’t want to know anything about them, but any piece of information on Griggs’s illegal operations could prove useful if he ever needed leverage.
Matt even ventured taking a step forward so as not to lose the rest of their exchange, but loud voices and drunken shuffling from one of the corridors made the pair look up and fall silent. Cursing his bad luck, Matt slung back to the shadows, waiting for a bunch of wasted guys to make their way home past the intersection. When he risked peeking at the bench again, it was empty.
Chapter Nine
THE WORRIED LOOK on Tony’s face as she greeted him at the main hatch of the Lisa told Matt everything was not going well in his little kingdom.
“What happened?” he asked, not bothering with idle chitchat. Damn it, he really should have checked the messages on his commlink, he thought as he recalled the insistent calls he’d ignored while playing the spy.
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