by E J Frost
When I don’t say anything, she continues.
“You’re thinking Tyng recruited her. Turned
her into what she is. That’s not how it
happened. Erin’s always known exactly what
she wanted to be.”
“A killer?” That would surprise me. I’ve
always known I was different, but I didn’t
start out in that dumping-ground on Paggen
thinking I was gonna kill people when I grew
up. I just wanted to be a soldier, like half the
other boys I knew.
“No, rich. She’s always known she
wanted to be rich. She didn’t care how she
got there. Who she had to work for. Who she
had to hurt. What mattered is that she’d never
have to eat rats again.”
Having eaten a decent amount of rat in my
time, I can understand that. If she has a talent
for killing people, I can’t fault her for
exploiting her talent. You can’t always
choose who you work for. I found that out the
hard way with S.A.W.L. And you can’t
always decide that it’s only the deserving
who’re gonna die. I found that out the hard
way in slam. I don’t think Kez and I will
ever see eye-to-eye on this one. But it
doesn’t matter. Like Tyng’s illness, it’s just
another point of leverage. “Whether she
deserves it or not, if she wants out, an’ we
can help her . . . you see where this is
goin’?”
Kez sighs and slumps in her chair. “I see
where it’s going. I don’t have to like it
though, do I?”
“No, you don’t have to like it.” She’ll do
it though, because she’s a pragmatist. Like
me. “An’ we don’t have to give it away. We
get as much out of her as we can before I
give her that key.”
Kez nods.
“So, you wanna go make nice with your
sister, or you wanna land the ship?”
Kez grins. “Is that a trick question?”
I figured. I flick on the landing controls
and turn them over to her. Looks like I get to
continue running interference with Erin-the-
Assassin.
Chapter 19
Kez needs more help on the landing than
she did on the lift off, but landing is always
trickier. The dock at Golden Sands is an
aerial dock, a series of landing pads and
platforms built thirty meters above the
yellow dunes that give the settlement it’s
name. The Marie is on the large side of the
ships that can dock at Golden Sands, and we
have to circle several times until a platform
large enough for the Marie clears. As we
begin to drop towards the platform, landing
talons reach up and grab at the Marie’s gear.
A raptor platform. They’re not the easiest
landings. I help Kez as she settles the ship in.
It’s a bumpy landing. Not really Kez’s fault.
Raptor platforms suck. But I can see that it
unsettles her. She wipes sweat off her upper
lip as we unstrap our flight webbing.
“You did just fine, kitten.”
“Did I? That felt bad.”
“Raptor platform. Even experienced
pilots hate them.” I reach under my seat and
pull out two bulbs of water. Stock’s getting
low. Normally, I’d top up after the run, but
there’s no point in restocking for the killer
call-girl. In fact, I’ll need to strip some
supplies out of the ship before I turn it over
to her. She can have those fucking tortillas,
though. “Toast to your first landing.”
She tinks her bulb against mine and we
wait for the dock to signal the ship, sipping
in companionable silence. Finally, a triangle
on the Marie’s flight console lights up. The
panel above the credit reader says,
“Welcome to Golden Sands. Docking fees
are two hundred credits per day. No credit
will be given for partial stays.”
“Friendly,” I remark.
Kez pulls out her backpack. “I’ve got
this.” She opens an interior compartment in
the backpack and fishes out a credit wand.
Slides it into the triangular slot and holds her
thumb against the IdentiPad at the top of the
wand until it beeps. “How would you have
paid?”
“Whaddo you mean?” I ask.
“I notice you don’t use soft credits for
anything.”
Observant kitten. “They’ll usually take
hard credits if you talk to the right person.”
“Not everywhere.”
I shrug. “I’ve never met anyone I couldn’t
persuade.” Or kill, when gentler methods
didn’t work.
She grins as she stows the credit wand
back in her pack. “You are very persuasive.”
I rise and stretch. Hold my hand out to
her and help her out of her flight chair. She
rolls her head until her neck pops. “Ooo, do
you get sore?” she asks.
“You were concentratin’ too hard. You
won’t when you’ve had more practice.
C’mere.” I turn her around and stroke the
tension out of her neck with my thumbs. “You
know what I used to do after a flyin’ lesson?
To relieve the tension?”
“Mmm, no idea.” She melts against me.
Her head lolls. She lets her backpack drop to
the floor and reaches around to rest her
hands on my hips. “Whatever it was, you’re
not allowed to stop what you’re doing.”
I lean in so my mouth’s against her ear. “I
used to wank off.” Over and over. Until I
passed out. Worked great. I didn’t suffer any
of the stress-related problems the other
trainees suffered. I even looked forward to
flight training.
“Oh, okay, I take it back. We can do that
instead.” She pulls at my hips so my groin
bumps her soft ass. “I want to watch.”
Naughty kitten. “Why would I jerk off
when I’m with you? Fuckin’s a thousand
times better than goin’ solo. ‘Sides, we just
did that.” Not that I’d object to doing it
again, but I’d rather the next time was in a
bed, or zero-gee, or at least somewhere we
can take our time.
“Two whole hours ago.”
I chuckle and nuzzle her dreadlocks.
“We’re on the clock.”
Kez sighs. “About that, I’ve been
thinking.”
Could be dangerous. “Yeah?”
“Maybe this Shaker guy rents other stuff.
You know, beside skimmers.”
“What do we need beside a skimmer?”
“A catapult.”
The image of catapulting her evil minx of
a sister over the channel into the Cloudlands
tickles me. I laugh. A full belly laugh. “Bet
she’d fall right outta that titty-sling.”
Kez giggles. I tuck her into my chest and
hold her tight until our shared laughter dies
down.
“Let’s go get the blue b
omber,” I tell her.
Kez nods and when I release her, picks
up her backpack and slings it over her
shoulders with a smile.
Erin’s waiting for us in the passenger
lounge. She’s changed into something more
functional: a tight black unisuit topped by a
curvy, electric blue jacket. Assassin chic.
Her three bags sit neatly stacked next to her
cradle. She removes her amber spectacles
and earpiece when we enter.
“Tyng got anythin’ new to say?” I ask.
“Not to me,” Erin responds, her voice all
honey and viciousness. “We’ve been down
for fifteen minutes.” She arches an eyebrow.
“That an observation, or a criticism?”
‘Cause it sounded like the latter to me.
“I could have walked faster at this rate.”
Fashion Fatale does not get to criticize
my timetable. “Not in those boots.” I nod at
her footwear, which are shiny and black and
svelte, but I bet two hours of walking in them
would give her blisters the size of my fist. I
scoop up her bags, shoulder two of them and
pass the third to Kez so my hands are free.
“C’mon then. Tick tock.”
Erin gives me a narrow and unfriendly
glare as she unfolds herself from the cradle
in one smooth motion and stalks out of the
lounge.
As we follow, I mime Erin falling out of
her bustier. Kez giggles. I grin. And we both
give Erin innocent face when she glares at us
over her shoulder.
The dock is only a few minutes’ walk
from the heart of Golden Sands, but the
tourist-minded govvies have thoughtfully
provided a moving walkway, so I relax
against the handrail, put my arm around Kez
and watch the sights roll by.
Golden Sands is a coastal settlement, and
like all the coastal settlements on Kuseros,
it’s got a bad case of schizophrenia. Half
tourist attraction, half industrial fishing port.
It can’t seem to decide what it is, block by
block, and in some places, building by
building. There are entertainment arcades,
breezy outdoor markets, and bright shops
touting the usual tourist tat. They sit cheek to
jowl with stinking fish-oil refineries and
flash-freezing plants.
As I’m appreciating the dichotomy, Kez
points out a storefront tucked between a
heavy-water supplier and a welder’s.
“Rippers. They sell great flash.”
“You like flash?” The fried, highly-
spiced seaweed isn’t to everyone’s taste. It’s
one of my favorite foods, though.
“Love it.” She grins up at me. I cast a
glance at her sister, who has her back to us
as we ride the walkway. Since Erin’s not
watching, I give Kez an open-mouthed kiss.
That grin is such a turn-on.
She responds enthusiastically, lapping at
my tongue, pressing her soft breasts against
my chest. The little monster forgets that it’s
supposed to be satisfied and begins to
rumble.
When I pull back, Kez’s eyes are shining
and her grin is wider, if possible. She licks
my taste off her lower lip before she mouths,
“More,” at me.
“Bad kitten,” I growl. But I don’t put any
heat into it. Playing with her is too much fun.
“What else d’you know about this place?”
She shrugs. “Fish is fresh. Best stuff gets
shipped off-world, though. Stay out of the
clubs after midnight. Mirrormen territory.
They don’t like outsiders, and they don’t
distinguish between the tourists and poor
runners just trying to make a living.”
I snort. “Poor runner, huh?”
“Less than I used to be.” Her grin could
light up worlds. “I have this Big D now.
He’s so flush he keeps giving away space-
ships.”
I slide my hand down her back and pinch
her ass. “Ship. I gave away one ship. My
ship. An’ I figured you’d spot me the next
one, since you’re makin’ more on these two
runs than most runners make in a year.”
She tosses her dreads. “I’m not most
runners. I have a lifestyle to maintain.”
“What, replacement neg cells and bunny
kibble? I knew sixty-forty was too much.
Time to renegotiate.”
She leans her head back on my shoulder.
“No way. I got you and I got most of the
profits. I’m never renegotiating.” She turns
and hugs me suddenly. Presses her face into
my neck. “Never never never.”
I slide my arms around her. Hold her
tight. Meet Erin’s eyes over the top of Kez’s
fuzzy head as Erin turns around to say
something to us. Those ice blue eyes flick
over our clinch. Erin’s expression shifts
towards disdain, but doesn’t quite make it.
There’s too much hurt in her eyes.
“Your sister’s watching us,” I murmur to
Kez.
“I don’t care,” Kez responds, but she
steps back. Leans against the handrail. Takes
my hand and stands companionably close as
we roll down the last few meters of the
walkway. She rolls our joined hands to
check her viewie, which displays a miniature
version of Gig’s map. “Shaker’s place is
right on the front. Through the main arcade.”
“Due east.” I nod towards the blue haze
that peeps through the gaps in the wall of
buildings ahead of us.
The moving walkway deposits us in the
center of the main arcade. Under an ornate
glaz and enamel arch patterned with
seashells and leaping fish. Real thoughtful of
those tourist-minded govvies. Land the
tourists right in the center of the credit-trap.
The plaza is crowded with shoppers.
Mostly women dragging kids and ‘bots piled
high with brightly-colored tat. Kez takes
point and moves through the crowd easily,
sliding into the shifting gaps between groups
of people with the ease of a native of the
urban jungle. I follow her, not too close. And
as she slides in and out and around the
crowd, I begin to see how she could have
followed me for three months without me
spotting her. She’s a natural; despite her
distinctive looks, she fits right in. So neatly
she disappears into the crowd. Without my
modified senses and S.A.W.L. training, I
wouldn’t be able to follow her. Where she
blends, the crowd shifts to make way for me.
Without a uniform or any visible weapons,
I’m not as scary as I used to be. But
whatever face or name I’m wearing, I’m still
a big man, moving purposefully, and people
get out of my way. Erin quickly realizes the
advantages of being in my wake. She drops a
few steps behind me, and when I glance back
to mak
e sure she’s still there too many times
for her taste, she hooks two fingers through
the strap of the bag over my shoulder so I can
lead her.
I don’t like the pressure on the strap.
Feels like I’m on a leash. Those first days at
K-G all over again. I shrug her off, reach
back and take her left hand with mine, so she
can follow directly behind me and I’ve got
my right hand free for a shiv.
Over the burble of the crowd, I hear her
chuckle. “I like holding hands with you,
Manny.”
She’s lying. I can feel her hand twitching
in mine. The crowd will have her on edge.
Hunting through a crowd is one thing; trying
to move inconspicuously through one is
another. It’s hell for a predator. Worse than
being out in the open. Too many distractions.
“How often d’you leave Zhonnys?” I ask.
“Why?”
‘Cause she seems agoraphobic. I shrug.
“I’ve been on vacation,” she says finally.
“I’ve earned it.”
Whether she’s earned it or not, she’s
been out of action for a while. Tyng called
her out of retirement for this job. Maybe so
she could prove her loyalty again. Maybe to
fuck with Kez’s head. Maybe to punish Erin.
She’s Ape’s sister, too, after all.
“One last job, huh?” I say. “Trouble is,
it’s that last job that gets you. Maybe you
need it too much. Maybe your reactions have
gotten slow. Whatever it is, it’s that one last
job that you don’t come back from.”
She digs her fingernails into my hand.
“What are you saying?”
She knows. She just doesn’t want to
admit it. “I’m sayin’ you should walk away.
Take my ship and get as far away from
Kuseros as you can.”
“He’ll never let me go,” she says, so
softly I just make out the edges of her words
over the noise of the crowd.
“Get some perspective, sister. He’s a big
fish in a small pond. Two systems from here,
no one’s even heard of him.”
She’s silent as I lead her out of the plaza.
When we escape the crowd, I release her
hand. She stays a step behind me. I glance
over my shoulder and take in her expression.
She doesn’t meet my eyes. Her face is
closed, pensive.
Maybe I’ve given her something to think
about.
Kez stops a few yards ahead of us, not far
from a knot of adolescents in baggy beach
wear. Several carry float-boards and all are
heavily holo-tattooed. Kez gives a high,
