Chapter 6: Jak
"I’ll be back in a couple of hours," Jak told the girl.
She huddled on his cot, wrapped in his cloak. Hair matted with blood, face swollen, she looked miserable. He’d have felt sorry for her if he weren’t coming to dislike her so much. Still, he’d made his bargain, and he would keep it. As soon as she’d made the offer, he’d realized that it was his only chance to get enough credits for Tessa to get away from Shadriss.
"Meanwhile, keep quiet and don’t let anyone else in."
He’d lock the door after him. It would take either his card key or a lot of force to open it from outside, but Kamura could open the door from inside if she chose to do so.
"Where are you going?"
Her face was drawn with pain, but he was out of meds.
"To buy supplies," he answered. He held up the little gold navel ring and smiled as her hand went to her stomach. "Keep quiet. Keep the door shut. I’ll be back as soon as I can."
He stepped out before she could argue anymore.
He also planned to talk to Tessa soon and let her know about the bargain. If he put the first half of the payment in her name, that plus what she’d managed to save ought to be enough to give her a clean start. Any B-class world would have a Terrestrial climate, an established economic and social structure, everything she’d need to live a safe and comfortable life. He wouldn’t be around to share it with her, but that had never been a real possibility anyway.
He stuffed the little ring into one of his vest pockets as he walked down the corridor leading outside. He was headed for the Great Market, the bazaar that ran everyday just north of the docks on the Ur. He hoped to find an accommodating trader, one who’d exchange the navel ring for credits without asking too many questions. He left his building without attracting any attention. It was early, the air still cool enough to be pleasant, but already hinting of heat to come. He walked slowly among the small, shabby stalls that nearly blocked the dusty street. Along the way, he stepped around children, beggars, and ordinary folk out to purchase a jar of grain, a length of cloth, or a small, bright ear bauble.
He also spotted mobbies hiding in the shadows, waiting for their chance to steal a bit of fruit or a dropped credit. He kept well away from those feral children, knowing they were quick, fearless, and almost impossible to catch. Worse, they all were deadly accurate with their slingshots, and some carried knives. Even the littlest ones, set out as beggars by the Alpha’s of the mobbie packs, could be risky to approach if their mobbie guards decided he was a danger to their charges.
Jak passed a few late-coming merchants who were just opening their stalls. The Great Market was organized into quarters for the various kinds of merchants. Cloth merchants, food sellers, and jewelers each had an area reserved for them. Some of the sellers glanced uneasily at Jak as he passed, noting his height and red hair, both unusual on Shadriss. But once they saw his scarred face, they looked away again. That kind of deformity was a sign of bad luck, and they didn’t want it spreading to them. Jak sighed and tried to tug his vest into place so that it covered more of this body; the scar on his face was only one among many. He wondered what it would be like to walk though a city where he looked like everyone else, where he wasn’t a walking advertisement for misfortune. He shook his head; it wouldn’t happen on Shadriss.
A file of hand-drawn carts filled with produce creaked up the road from the docks. The fruits and vegetables were fresh from narrow strips of farmland that lay along both sides of the river Ur. Beyond those green fields was the great, golden desert—the Waste—always ready to devour the labor and the lives of the farmers. As he walked, another life washed through Jak’s mind, not seizing him roughly, as some memories did, but gentle and misty.
I am in a market, a busy place. . . a boy on my first business trip with my father. He trusts me to carry the inventory data pad. I am so proud to be part of our family’s business. . . warehouses on all sides . . . big white buildings with tall steel doors. We stop to talk with a merchant who wants to ship a cargo of nuts. The warehouse smells sweet and woody. My father motions me forward. "Meet my son," he says, "he’s just getting started in the shipping trade."
The memory faded, and Jak found himself standing in the middle of the street and blinking at a cart full of plums. The vendor looked at him oddly, and he hastily continued through the Great Market. Memories of other lives wouldn’t help him now, not even one that felt so oddly comforting.
The bazaar smelled of spices and dust, new synthetics and old leather, of the algae that grew on the pilings that supported the river docks, and of the perfumed oil that the city’s merchants used to dress their long, black hair. Jak’s height let him see over the heads of most of the short, slender natives of Shadriss, but that same height would make it easier for his enemies to spot him, and there was a good chance n’Tau would be looking for him today. The Gambler knew Jak had seen him with Kamura last night, and he might guess that Jak had something to do with getting the girl out of the alley.
Fortunately, the jewelers’ quarter was close to the gate that lay across the main road leading through the city to the spaceport. Jak entered behind an older woman dressed in a fine linen shift. She scolded the sleepy eyed boy who trailed her while carrying her large, empty shopping basket. He cut around a pair of farmers arguing the price of lamnan, and strode past the rows of tents where weapons merchants sold blasters, stunners, and knives to anyone who had the credits to buy. Those same merchants would purchase from anyone who had a weapon to sell, even a mobbie, if one of those children managed to steal a weapon too large for small hands to use. Jak refused to give in to the temptation to browse through what he couldn’t afford. The tents of the jewelers were just ahead.
Jak turned down the first row of such traders he came upon after passing the weapons mart. This less desirable perimeter of the jeweler’s quarter housed small traders who might take an interest in a man who had but a single jewel to sell. The tents here were even gaudier than the ones in the other quarters of the market, and the guards were far more numerous. He chose a tent of yellow and purple stripes, trimmed with blue ribbons, and small silver bells at each corner. Despite its bright colors, the tent was worn just short of shabby, and there was only a single guard outside. Looking more bored than menacing, she eyed Jak as he went inside but didn’t try to stop him. He paused just inside the entrance and peered around the murky interior of the jeweler’s tent.
From within the dimness of the tent, the jeweler rose to meet him. He was an old man, thin and bent, with a wrinkled, clean shaven face. Yet, true to his calling, he was decked out like a dandy with rings on every finger and gems in his hair. Jak was sure that none of the ornaments was especially valuable, but they did make a fine show.
"Greetings and Lady Ur’s blessings!" The jeweler brought his hands together in front of his face in a sketchy bow of polite greeting. "Welcome to the tent of Vayak, the finest jeweler in all Namdrik."
Then jeweler frowned, and then took a hasty step back as he got a better look at his prospective client. Jak could tell the man was about to call for the guard. Jak smiled, and Vayak looked truly alarmed. Damn that scar; smiling was not a good idea. Instead, he produced the navel ring. There was just enough light to strike a spark of green from the emerald. The jeweler realized that Jak was here to sell, not to rob, and relaxed.
"And how may I help you?" he asked as he fussed with the many folds of his long white tunic. Jak was sure he had a blaster hidden in there somewhere.
"I want to sell this ring," Jak said, stating the obvious. It looked very small in the palm of his large hand. He knew he had to play the game according to the merchant’s rules, and that meant haggling. Unfortunately, haggling wasn’t a skill at which he excelled.
Vayak peered doubtfully at the ring and even more doubtfully at Jak. Jak realized the jeweler believed he’d stolen the ring, but the old man was
n’t fussy. In this part of the jewelers’ quarter, half the clients would be thieves and the other half their victims. The jeweler pursed his mouth and nodded his head as he studied it, sending waves of garlic and perfume Jak’s way.
Jak let out a sigh of relief when Vayak gestured for Jak to take a seat at the low table at the rear of the tent. The jeweler made small talk as he took out his teapot and two cups. Jak’s spirits rose even more. The jewel was worth enough for Vayak to treat him as a proper customer. Jak tried to keep up his end of the polite conversation while Vayak placed two small cups of hot tea and a plate of sweet cakes on the table. Jak had eaten half the cakes before the widening of Vayak’s eyes reminded him he was supposed only to eat one or two. He slowed, but it was hard. The cakes were tasty, and he was hungry.
"It’s very small," Vayak said at last, handing the ring back to Jak. He paused for a careful sip of tea. "Quite possibly a fake. I could let you have a couple of credits for it."
"Fake!" Jak exclaimed in mock indignation. He’d thought up his story while waiting for Vayak to get to the point. "This ring belonged to my mother who received it as a gift from a High Lord. I won’t name him, out of respect for his privacy, but he would never deal in fakes."
He picked up the jewel and made as if to put it in his pocket.
"Well, then, let me see it, again. Perhaps it might be worth a little more."
When it came to haggling the old man was a master of the art, Jak realized as he struggled to keep up his end of the bargaining. At last, Jak haggled from a price so unfair it amounted to larceny to one that was merely an insult. He accepted it gladly. Poor as it was, it would buy the antibiotics and painkillers Kamura needed, and a day or so of food into the bargain.
As he headed away from the jeweler’s tent, he wondered how he would get Kamura to Tekena. With all the traffic on the river heading for the ceremony of the Joining, there’d be plenty of the Regent’s men along the way, watching for trouble, maybe watching for Kamura. At least, he would try. To be honest, he didn’t expect either of them to live to reach their destination, but that didn’t matter so long as he could buy Tessa passage to safety.
As he walked, he saw small groups of the Regent’s men here and there. They seemed looking for something or someone without wanting to make a show of it. Their blue tunics and trousers, the color of the House of n’Chall, made them easy to spot amid the white and tan of the ordinary market clothes. A quick turn and a squeeze between rows of tents let Jak avoid the first patrol he saw. But soon he had to pause and pretend an interest in a display of cooking pots to let a second party of six guards go by the end of the row. After they passed, he strolled on, trying to look as if he had all morning free to shop. It was hard to keep up a slow, steady pace when all he really wanted was to get out of sight.
On his way through the market, he overheard snatches of conversation. As yet, word went, nobody knew who the soldiers hunted, but Jak overheard plenty of rumors. Some said the soldiers were seeking a missing High Lord or Lady who’d gone astray. Others claimed the soldiers were looking for an outlander. That was the rumor that Jak liked the least. It probably that meant n’Tau had given Jak’s description to someone.
In the cloth merchants’ quarter, his purchased a lightweight cloak with an attached hood, the sort of thing farmers often wore to protect themselves from the sun while they worked in their fields. He drew a surprised stare from the merchant when he paid the first price asked, but Jak knew he had to have something that would cover his red hair and shade his all too recognizable face.
He slipped the cloak on as he moved a few more rows of tents closer to the river Ur toward the food mart and the nearby area where local herbs and off world medicines were sold. He purchased some bread and cheese, a little fruit, a few ampoules of antibiotics, and some painkillers. As an afterthought, on his way back out through the cloth market, he purchased a shift for Kamura to wear and a comb so she could untangle her hair. The dress was just a simple sleeveless shift of white cotton such as the poorer local women wore. But he needed to take her Tessa’s place so that she could use the com there to finalize their bargain, and she couldn’t go out in public in nothing but his winter cloak and the rags of silk that bound her wounds.
Jak had to dodge the Regent’s men twice more before he was able to slip out the main gate and walk away from the bazaar with his purchases bundled in the dress.
Omniphage Invasion Page 6
