by Cathy Pegau
With the demand for keracite and its derivatives on the rise, you’d think Alpha-Omega would be rolling in enough credits to upgrade their software more often and pay their workers better. But no. Times had gotten tough, even for the Big Three. Exeter, A-O and Blue Mountain were all struggling.
The companies were flush back in 2082, shortly after keracite was discovered here. A denser, cleaner-burning cousin to good old Earth coal, the mineral had been found on a few of the other planets but not in the quantities this cold rock contained.
Over the next half century the Big Three prospered as keracite supplemented then replaced other carbon-based fuel and product needs on Earth’s colonies. Megatonnes of keracite ore or microfabricated fuel cells were shipped off Nevarro on a daily basis. The amount of keracite required for the production of carbon nanotubes easily equaled its demand as a fuel source. CNTs were everywhere, used in everything from clothing to electronics to space elevators.
Competition escalated to fierce and cagey as demand for keracite increased. Companies poured money into technology, searching for faster and safer extraction with less than spectacular success rates. And being a single-source economy, when the mining industry stumbled so did the planet.
Cities like Pembroke and Pandalus appeared glitzy and modern at first glance, but ninety percent of Nevarro’s population were working stiffs like me, who sometimes found it necessary to supplement their meager incomes by other means. Some of us were even reduced to thieving.
Okay, that’s a bit of a lie. I’d been thieving before I came to Nevarro, but having a lousy job certainly didn’t help. High tax rates across the board meant indigents received a little extra help, and a single girl like myself should have been lolling in disposable income. Right. The government needed to update its poverty chart.
Last week, sharing 75K would have made me happy. Part of me wanted to say no to Tonio. To tell him I didn’t need him and his little gang. The other part of me—the poor part—smacked that self-righteous idiot in the head and made the obvious decision. With fifty million I could be more than merely happy.
When I left A-O at 1800 that evening, Tonio was out front, leaning against the building, dark and roguish in his black jacket and clothes. I grinned when I caught his eye, and he grinned back.
I realized I looked forward to working with him again. We were good together, and as I walked toward him I promised myself it would be strictly business until the job was over. Then we’d go our separate ways because we’d already proven we couldn’t handle real life in proximity to one another. Felon’s Rule Number One about not getting involved applied to co-workers as well as victims and marks.
“How much did you embezzle, dear?” he asked as I joined him.
I laughed at his old end-of-the-day greeting. I’d worked numerous menial jobs to help us get by. Once in a while the till didn’t add up at the end of the day or a case of lav cleanser disappeared and found its way to the black market, but I tried not to steal from merchants who needed money more than we did.
“Millions,” I said, giving the standard reply.
I’d never actually embezzled from A-O. They may not have updated their data software often, but their security apps were topnotch. Felon’s Rule Number Two: Don’t bite off more than you were prepared to chew. Or get arrested for.
“Let’s go live on a beach on Pacifica,” I threw out. That had always been one of our pipe dreams: Make a big enough hit to retire on the resort planet.
He pushed away from the wall. “You can go to Pacifica after this job.”
Not “we,” “you.” So he was keeping the idea of “us” at arm’s length, as well. Good.
“If I take the job,” I said, just to be ornery.
He ignored my retort. “Come on, let’s eat.”
Tonio drew my left hand up under his right arm and laid it in the crook of his elbow. The leather jacket was baby-bottom soft. He kept his warm hand over mine as we walked away from the A-O building and the day shift workers heading in the opposite direction. The evening cool and crisp, I shoved my other hand inside my jacket pocket.
We strolled down the almost-empty walkway while air cars, much nicer than my balky LAC, zipped high overhead and a few sleek grounders hummed along the street. The subdued lighting of gourmet shops, private clubs and jewelry stores wasn’t like the garish glare of my neighborhood, where neon all but screamed to passersby to eat a sandwich of questionable origin or watch the latest vid of questionable reputation. The establishments here, in posh uptown Pembroke, gently invited us in. Well, not us, but folks who didn’t need to rush toward the nearest PubTrans station.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“My flat,” he said. “It’s not far from here.”
Several thoughts vied for dominance in my brain, short-circuited my motor skills and caused me to stop walking.
Tonio stopped as well, a suspiciously innocent look on his face. “What?”
It took a few moments for the jumble of questions to sort themselves out. In no particular order of importance I asked, “How can you afford to live uptown? How long have you been back in Pembroke? What do you mean ‘your place’? You said we’d go to dinner.”
Okay, that last bit wasn’t a question.
His slow, easy grin gave me a good reason not to be alone with him in his flat. We needed to stay in public as much as possible so we wouldn’t do anything stupid. So I wouldn’t do anything stupid.
“I said we’d have dinner. We’ll need privacy when the others arrive.”
He hadn’t responded to my first two questions, but I probably didn’t want to know the answers anyway.
Arms still linked, we resumed walking. Hell, a free meal was a free meal. “You invited your friends over even before knowing my answer. That’s rather presumptuous of you.”
“I know you better than you think.”
I studied the tasteful holo sign for the Golden Flute Gentlemen’s Club down the street, avoiding the smirk I was sure Tonio wore.
“I knew you’d say yes, amante.”
“Well, aren’t you the clever one,” I said with a huff. “And stop calling me that.”
Tonio poured both of us a second glass of wine. “So after Paulie nearly shot me—with my own gun, mind you—I decided it was time to revisit my career goals.”
“Probably a good idea.” I ate the final forkful of the spicy chicken dish he knew I loved and washed it down with a sip of smooth red wine. “Mmmmm. You could become a chef.” I settled back against the velvety cushion of the dining room chair. His flat wasn’t large, but it was considerably more comfortable and better appointed than mine.
“I was a cook at the correctional facility on Deemers. Does that count?”
I nearly spit my wine across the table. “You were inside on Deemers? How long? What happened?”
The idea that he had been caught, had served time, sent a chill through me. Colony institutions were not for the faint of heart.
His brow furrowed at my question then he threw his head back and laughed. It was my turn to be confused. “I wasn’t an inmate,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “It was honest-to-goodness employment.”
My mouth dropped open. “You?”
He nodded and sipped his drink. “It was right after the Paulie incident. We’d gone our separate ways, and I was looking for a new angle.”
Of course he was. Tonio never held a steady job while we were together, which was fine when we were making somewhat regular hits. He had a tough time with authority figures, like lawmen and bosses. And wives.
“I’d heard there was a guy in Deemers who knew a guy,” he continued, “so I applied for a job.”
The irony of his being employed by the very type of facility we’d strenuously avoided made me chuckle. “Serving up prison slop so you can hook up with another crew. Only you, dear, would have that kind of nerve.”
Realizing what I’d called him, I took a quick sip to cover it up and glanced away. Maybe he hadn’
t noticed.
“I cooked up the best food the inmates had had in a long time,” he said with a touch of indignation in his voice. When our eyes met again he grinned. “Dear.”
Damn. I set the half-full glass back on the table.
He stood and started clearing the dishes. “It paid off. I learned a lot and eventually made contact with Willem. We’ve been working together ever since. Almost two years now.”
I helped take dishes into the kitchen. “You met him inside? Doesn’t getting caught kind of tarnish one’s resume?”
“Willem wasn’t inside. His father was.” Tonio rinsed the dishes, and I loaded them into the washer. “The father took the heat for a job. They’d been ratted out by a fourth guy. Willem and his brother Chaz got away.”
“Nice little family business,” I said as I took a plate. Though I wasn’t one to talk. “What happened to the person who ratted them out?”
Tonio’s hands paused under the running water. He held my gaze and passed me a glass. “Let’s just say no one’s heard from him since he testified.” He tapped the faucet to turn off the water as snatches of low-budget mob vids swirled in my head. “These guys don’t fool around, Liv. If you’re in, you’re in. This is going to be a big take, but you have to be willing to play on the team. Can you do that?”
Felon’s Rule Number Three: Be reliable, and have confidence in your crew mates. It was imperative to have a partner you trusted, like Cal, as well as slept with, like Tonio. As long as they didn’t ask me to kill anyone, directly or otherwise, or to cause small children any suffering, I’d be willing to play.
“Sure,” I said. “You know I’d never do anything to jeopardize a hit.”
What could the judicial system of Nevarro possibly do to me that would be worse than getting killed by my new partners? Okay, getting sentenced to the Colonial Correctional Mines would be close to worse.
We locked gazes again, reestablishing the trust we’d had. I couldn’t count on Tonio to be a good husband, or myself to be a good wife, but we could count on each other during a job.
“That’s my girl.” He smiled and leaned forward to peck me on the cheek. The scent of leather and wine tickled my nose. Before I could protest his familiarity, the door buzzer sounded. “And that’s them,” he said straightening. “Ready?”
I wiped my hands on the seat of my trousers. “Let’s go.”
Tonio led the way to the door. I stood back as he opened it. The first man through was as tall as Tonio, fair and dapper in his tone-on-tone burgundy suit. His hair was neatly trimmed, and he was clean-shaven. He and Tonio shook hands. Then both turned to me.
“Willem Grey,” Tonio said, “this is Liv Braxton.”
Willem smiled politely and held out his hand. “Good to meet you.”
I smiled back. This was starting off more like a corporate gathering than a meeting to discuss a felonious event.
The second man through the door had similar, but coarser features. He sported a mustache and a bit of a scruffy beard. His dark clothes weren’t as snappy as Willem’s. Though he was shorter than his brother, his shoulders were broader. Maybe Willem was the brains and this one the brawn.
“This is Chaz,” Tonio said, “and Natalia.”
Natalia?
I looked past Chaz, who nodded instead of taking my offered hand. A tall, thin blonde in a black catsuit and oversized purple sweater stood in the doorway.
“Nice to meet you.” Her voice was husky and her hair somewhat mussed, as if she’d just woken up. She shook my hand while giving my darker, shorter stature an arched eyebrow of disdain.
Bitch.
“Nice to meet you too.” It’s hard to sound sincere with a tight smile plastered on your face, but she bought it. And if she didn’t, who cared?
The three of them moved into the living area. I caught Tonio’s eye, tilted my head and gave him a silent, What the hell’s her problem? look. Tonio shook his head, telling me now was not the time, and guided me to the others.
“Tonio told us you were his partner a few years ago, Liv,” Willem said.
Chaz and Natalia sat on the couch, leaving the two chairs unoccupied. She was as close to him as she could get without sharing his suit.
“Yes. We did well together.”
“Why split up then?” Chaz asked.
I glanced over at him and Natalia. Chaz’s pale eyes held more intelligence than I would have given him credit for. “We needed a break.” True enough.
When neither Tonio nor I offered to elaborate, Willem said, “Tonio vouches for you. We trust his judgment.”
Satisfied with that, Chaz turned his attention to Natalia and murmured in her ear.
I looked back at Willem. “Thank you. Now can you tell me what I’ve signed on for?”
“This isn’t your run-of-the-mill smash and grab or bank job,” the blond man said. “It requires several steps to accomplish.”
“And you’ve taken care of at least one.” I almost mentioned Milchner, but something made me hold back.
Willem shot Tonio a questioning glance and cocked an eyebrow at me. “What did Tonio tell you?”
Oops. I licked my lips, hoping I hadn’t gotten us into trouble. “Just that the operation would be complex.”
He studied the two of us then nodded. “He’s right.” Willem came toward me, scrutinizing me with the critical eye of someone purchasing a new air car or livestock. He circled behind me and I tensed, half expecting him to pat my ass and ask about my fuel efficiency stats. “Do you know data systems? Can you find your way around an executive office with conviction?”
I glanced over at Tonio, but his face was unreadable. “Sure.”
I may have spent my days plugging in data, but I could maneuver through most systems—legally or otherwise—with ease.
“No problems lying, pretending you’re not what you say you are, or keeping a cool head under pressure?”
Data systems? Deception? Where was this going? I was sure Tonio had already told Willem I could handle the task, whatever it might be, but if he wanted an interview that was fine with me. “I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t.”
When Willem stood in front of me again, he was smiling but it didn’t reach his ice-blue eyes. I wasn’t inclined to smile back. Though looking at me, he spoke to Tonio. “You were right. She does fit the part. She’ll do just fine.”
“What part? Do what just fine?”
“Have a seat, Liv. We’ll tell you all about it.” Willem gestured toward a chair. “And welcome to the crew.”
Chapter Three
It took Willem less than an hour to explain the job, with Tonio offering comments here and there. Chaz and Natalia sat on the couch, hands roaming and sometimes disappearing in places I didn’t want to know about.
When Tonio and Willem finished, I leaned back in the chair and tried to take it all in. “All I have to do is become some Exeter Research and Development VP’s favorite girl and access files on this K-73 air filtering system they aren’t sharing.”
As cutthroat as the mining industry was, the safety and wellbeing of its miners had always come first, no matter who worked for whom. Companies had the right to develop new safety equipment without announcing their intentions prior to implementation, but if Exeter was using the filters they had to report it. Once they were approved by the CMA, Exeter could charge licensing fees, as long as they were equitable and adhered to fair market standards. No one was forced to use the technology, but everyone had to have access. What sort of advantage did the K-73s have that Exeter was willing to risk fines by the CMA and not collect licensing fees? It didn’t make sense to me, but what did I know about the corporate mindset?
My gaze flicked between the two men. “What about going at them from outside?”
Willem shook his head. “Exeter’s building is too well secured for remote access. The only way to retrieve the files is by logging into the internal SI network. We’ve tapped into less secure comm bands, but everything else requires being insi
de.”
And that, apparently, was where I came in.
I admit, I was looking forward to emoting some womanly charms rather than being the tough chickie called for on most other jobs. Getting in touch with my feminine side would be a nice change.
“Not a problem,” I said. “How hard can it be to play a little office chase around the desk with some overindulged, middle-aged man?”
“R. J. Talbot,” Willem said, “is a woman.”
So much for the cute and girly approach. But the glint in Willem’s eyes told me I might not have to alter my tactics.
“Talbot prefers women, doesn’t she?” I asked. He grinned. Great. I turned to Tonio. “You knew about this?”
Tonio’s cheeks reddened as he glanced at Willem. Maybe he was under orders to keep his mouth shut, to let the joke play out. Maybe he wanted to see if I’d be able to handle these little bombshells, like he told Willem I could. Maybe I needed to smack him and remind him that he had come to me, and that I deserved more consideration in the future.
“You could have said something about that at the beginning,” I said to Willem.
The blond man’s smile broadened. “Where would be the fun in that?”
Chaz gave a lecherous chuckle, a smirk on his face as if he was imagining a girl-on-girl thing. Men. Natalia looked torqued. Maybe I’d taken her spot. Willem had said I “fit the part.” Did R. J. Talbot prefer short brunettes to tall, bitchy blondes? Ha! Take that, Natalia.
Oh, wait.
“Just how far will I need to take this ruse?” I asked with some trepidation. I’d been attracted to other women but never intimate with them, and wasn’t inclined to put out for anyone, male or female. Though fifty million was coming awfully close to my purchase price.
