“The owner thinks he sold one, a few months back. That’s all I can tell you.” She casts a worried look around, then reaches over and slips the nugget of dargonite back into my pocket. “You need to go. I don’t want to be anywhere near you when they find that stuff on you.”
“Thank you,” I say, splaying my hand in gratitude.
“You owe me,” Roma says with a curt nod. “If that bracelet turns out to be worth anything, you might think of stopping back by and paying off your debt.”
I give her a grateful smile. “I intend to.”
I turn and hurry back down the street, blood looping madly through my veins as I repeat the address excitedly over to myself. An upscale pawn emporium on Aristozonex. I’ve already abandoned the idea of my parents being savages. If the bracelets are being sold on Aristozonex, I might have been kidnapped from a wealthy Syndicate official, or the owner of a glittering shopping emporium—at the very least a middle-class family. Velkan too!
Halfway back to the ship, I spot a stall selling navigational tools and equipment. My fingers tighten around Sarth’s compass. I still have some time before I need to be back on board the Zebulux. I could at least get a few credits for the compass. Between that and the coins I took from Sarth’s desk, Buir, Meldus and I should have enough to survive on if she throws us off the ship for any reason. Like when she realizes we can’t sell the dargonite.
I stroll nonchalantly over to the stall and make a show of examining the items on display. The vendor is a bushy-haired, heavyset youth, but no sluggard. He’s smoothly closing deals with the people browsing his wares while his eyes rove the crowd for his next customer.
“Looking for a gift or shopping for yourself?” he calls to me, sizing me up with one quick sweep.
I pull out Sarth’s compass. “Actually, I was hoping to sell something.”
He nods while wrapping up a sale. “Be right with you.”
“What do you have?” he asks when he wanders over a moment later.
I reach into my pocket and pull out the compass. “Antique. Worth a lot, I imagine.” I smile brightly at him.
He scans me slowly up and down and purses his fat lips. “Don’t do much in the way of antiques, but I’ll have a look.”
He spends less time examining the compass than he did checking me out, so when he tells me it’s a decent piece, I’m pretty sure he’s embellishing the truth. “How much?” I ask.
“I could go three hundred credits on it.”
“Three-fifty!”
“You drive a hard bargain!” He forks his thick fingers through his hair and sighs. “All right, you got a deal,” he says, looking down at his CipherSync.
That’s when I realize I have no way of accepting payment. I rack my brains for a solution. I could possibly trade the compass for something useful, but I really want the credits.
“How long are you here for?” the youth asks, his gaze fixed on his CipherSync as he taps methodically on it.
“I’m … leaving in a few minutes, actually.”
“Shame. I could have shown you around this evening. It’s not half bad here once you move away from the fueling port.” He looks up expectantly. “Okay, credits are set to transfer.”
I give an embarrassed shrug. “I … don’t have a CipherSync.”
A puzzled look flits across his brow.
I need to think fast. I spread my palms in a gesture of apology. “I left home in a hurry—unexpectedly. Long story.”
He raises a brow. “Ah, I get it.” He leans over the table, his belly resting on a pile of old navigational charts, and grins at me like we’ve just become best friends. “I did the same thing myself. Blazed a trail off my planet when I was fourteen. Built this stall up from nothing and been loving every minute of it since.”
I widen my eyes admiringly. “That’s impressive! I hope to do that too.” At least the part about blazing a trail. And I’m envisioning spending my days on a ship, not behind a stall.
“Tell you what,” he says, with a wink. “I’ll throw in a used CipherSync if you let me buy you dinner next time you’re in port.”
I make an attempt at a flattered gasp. “You’d do that?”
“Sure! It’s a dated model, but functional. Fully refurbished.”
“Thank you.” I smile gratefully at him. “Dinner it is!”
He hesitates for a moment, blinks, and then swings into action with the air of someone who’s accustomed to more success closing deals than landing dates.
After he loads the credits, I record the address Roma gave me and stuff the CipherSync inside my shamskin. I’ll have to keep it hidden. It’s best if Sarth doesn’t know I have some credits to my name; she might decide she owns those too.
By the time I get back to the Zebulux, Sarth has already returned.
“Cutting it close,” she says, eying me with a disgruntled air that seems to suggest she was hoping I wouldn’t make it. “You’re the last one.”
I shrug in response. “There were a lot of stalls.”
She motions to Velkan to close the cargo door. When it’s sealed shut, she pulls out three CipherSyncs, lays them out on a nearby crate, and turns to me. “I got these for you, Buir, and Meldus on the dark market. You’ll need them to enter Aristozonex.” She raises a brow. “And to purchase a ship, of course, once we unload that dargonite.”
My stomach muscles tighten. She still doesn’t know about the recent ruling. I need to tell her before we arrive at Aristozonex, or we’ll all be arrested.
“We’re going to have to change our plans,” I say.
Sarth eyes me suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”
“I heard something when I was browsing at the market stalls. The Syndicate has laid claim to all dargonite mines in the four quadrants under its jurisdiction.”
“I know.” Sarth rubs her hands together briskly and grins, her teeth a sickly shade of scum in the dimly lit cargo bay. “It’s good news for us.”
I wrinkle my brow. “How is it good news? It’s illegal to trade in dargonite now, even to be in possession of it.”
“And that,” Sarth says, staring at me with a strange light in her eyes, “is exactly why its value just tripled.”
“But they’ll arrest—”
Sarth waves a dismissive hand at me. “We’re not going to sell it to the Syndicate.”
My mind races. “Who are you planning to sell it to?”
Sarth’s eyes gleam. “There are always buyers on the dark market. We’ll find a broker on Aristozonex and cut him in.”
My eyes wander to the Lunatrekker in the shadows. “We, or you?” I say, fixing an accusatory gaze on her.
A muscle in her cheek twitches. “Don’t miss a beat, do you?” she says. “I stashed the dargonite in my room. Can’t take the risk of someone from one of the other ships wandering into the cargo bay while we’re docked, can we?”
I grimace but say nothing. Sarth’s paranoia about strangers coming on board will make the break-in seem even more authentic, but her rage will know no limits when she discovers what’s happened.
“Doors are sealed,” Velkan calls to Sarth.
She nods and heads for the stairs to the upper deck. My heart surges up my throat. “How long until we reach Aristozonex?” I blurt out, knowing I’m only delaying the inevitable.
She scratches the back of her bald head. “We have a detour to take first.”
I stare at her. “What are you talking about?”
She thumbs at the cryogenic vats beneath the cargo netting. “We need to unload our contraband.”
“Where?” I demand.
A grin seeps across Sarth’s face. “There’s only one buyer for cryogenic cargo.” Her chilling eyes run up and down the length of me like the edge of a blade. “Body poachers.”
12
The clang of Sarth’s boots ascending the metal stairs echoes in my head like a siren warning. Something about the look she gave me when she mentioned the body poachers was deeply unsettling. I
know we can’t trust her, but we can’t divert her course. Her ship, her rules, as she’s fond of reminding us. And anyway, she’s right about the vats—we need to get rid of them before we go anywhere near Aristozonex.
“Brace yourself,” Velkan says, walking up to me. “She’s going to be hotter than the flaming core of a planet once she sees her quarters.”
“I only took a few coins and an old compass. And several nuggets of dargonite, not enough to be noticed. I hid it in my shamskin.”
“She’ll go ballistic just knowing someone was in there.”
I nod glumly. “So how do we get the vats to these body poachers she talked about.”
“There’s a penal colony on a planet called Diretus two days from here,” Velkan says. “They produce weaponry for the Syndicate. The penal commissioner uses some of the prisoners to help run a dark market on the uninhabited side of the planet, unbeknownst to the Syndicate.”
“Sounds risky. What if one of the prisoners says something?”
Velkan hesitates for a moment. “It’s a maximum sanction colony. They’ve had their tongues cut out.”
My eyes widen in horror.
“The commissioner on Diretus has a reputation for being the most brutal in the entire Syndicate.”
A shiver run down my spine. “How do we know he won’t kill us?” I ask.
A look of sadness comes over Velkan’s face. He reaches out and gently traces the back of his finger down my cheek. His touch chases the breath from my lungs. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. We have connections there. The commissioner is Ghil’s brother, Crankilius—that’s his real name, but everyone calls him Crank. Ghil worked for him years ago.”
“I had a sneaking suspicion Ghil didn’t learn to handle knives like that in a kitchen,” I say. “So why’s he working in a galley?”
Velkan raises his brows. “He knifed a visiting Syndicate official who criticized the way he was running things. He’s had to keep a low profile ever since. Officially, he’s a fugitive on the Syndicate’s most wanted list. That’s why he wears a beanie pulled down over his head whenever he leaves the ship at a fueling port.”
“Sounds like he’s as much a prisoner of the Zebulux as you are.”
Velkan smiles. “Doesn’t feel so bad since you came on board.”
My cheeks grow warm and I drop my gaze.
A roar startles us. Our eyes lock in instant recognition. Sarth has discovered the break-in. Right on cue her voice booms over the intercom. “All hands to the galley, now!”
My stomach knots as I follow Velkan up the stairway. Beneath my shamskin, the dargonite grows heavy in my pocket. Maybe keeping it on my person wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Nipper races up the stairs behind me, trailed by Meldus.
“What’s going on?” Nipper yells.
“No idea!” I call back, painting on a bewildered expression.
We pile into the galley under Sarth’s menacing glare and take a seat at the table beside Ghil and Buir. Buir splays her hand nervously and I give her a reassuring grin.
Sarth fingers the laser gun holstered at her waist. “Someone broke into my quarters while I was on shore,” she begins, her voice barely repressing her rage. “The crew’s bunks have been ransacked too. Anyone see anything, know anything?”
With great deliberation, she scans our faces. Is it my imagination or does she hesitate a little longer on mine? Heat rises up the back of my neck. When her gaze passes to Velkan, I breathe out a silent sigh of relief.
“The port security was lax again.” Velkan frowns. “Half the time they weren’t checking reentry stamps. Anyone could have come through.”
Sarth slams her fist hard on the table. “Why do I pay a security fee to dock at these deadbeat stations when they can’t even keep them secure?”
She paces and smooths a hand over her head before turning back to Velkan. “You were by the fuel pump the entire time. Did you see any strangers loitering around the ship?”
He shakes his head.
Sarth frowns. “Ghil, Buir, and Trattora all returned after me.” She lifts her gaze and glances at Nipper. “That leaves you and Meldus. You two never left the ship, right?”
Nipper shifts uneasily in his seat. “Never left the engine room. Too busy doing all the maintenance checks.”
Sarth takes a step toward him. “Are you sure about that?” she growls. “I’ll bet the only thing you lubricated was your insides, you worthless piece of galactic garbage.” Without warning, she whacks him across the face with the back of her hand. He cowers in front of her as if waiting on more blows to rain down on him.
I’m baffled by his submissive posturing. Why doesn’t he defend himself? With his strength, he could squeeze the air out of Sarth’s windpipe in minutes.
Sarth swivels abruptly and fixes an ugly gaze on Meldus next. “You stayed on the ship too. You’re a stranger, and you had ample opportunity while Nipper here was passed out drunk.”
Meldus shakes his head fervently. “No, it wasn’t that bad. He … I mean …”
Sarth turns on Nipper like a tornado, whipping out her gun and cracking him over the head with it. He groans and falls to one side clutching his head.
“You good for nothing solar slug! I knew you were drinking again on the job.”
Sarth straightens up and turns back to Meldus, her features hard and calculating. “Did you notice anyone coming or going?”
He blinks, but to his credit, he doesn’t glance in my direction.
My heart thumps so loudly I’m afraid the others can hear it in the deathly silence that has fallen.
“No one,” he says, firmly.
Sarth moves her jaw side to side. “Then that leaves you as the only possible suspect.”
“I don’t know anything about it,” Meldus protests.
“Was anything stolen?” I ask, trying to distract her.
“Yesss.” Sarth draws the word out into a menacing hiss. She reaches for Meldus and drags him to his feet, then gestures to Ghil. “Why don’t you go into the galley and sharpen your knife collection? Then we’ll ask him if he has anything belonging to me.”
I jump to my feet, but quick as lightning Sarth pulls out her gun and holds it to Meldus’ head. “Sit down or I’ll blow his brains out.”
I raise my hands to pacify her and take a step backward. “Okay! Take it easy!”
Buir presses her knuckles to her pale face. “Meldus wouldn’t steal anything. He’s completely trustworthy.”
Sarth cocks an eyebrow at her. “Never trust a servant. First rule of power. And I don’t trust any of you either.” She tilts her chin toward Velkan. “Except for the serf. No reason for him to steal—he can’t go past the fuel port on any planet anyway, eh?”
Velkan gives a hesitant nod.
“Go up to the flight deck and prep for departure,” she orders him. “The rest of you stay here. Anyone makes a move, Meldus dies. I’m gonna search each and every one of you before you leave this room, right after I explain to young Meldus here what will happen if he lies to Ghil.” She turns on her heel and leads a sweating Meldus into the galley.
In a flash, Velkan is at my side. “Quick! Give it to me!” he whispers.
With trembling fingers, I reach into the pockets of my shamskin and pull out the antiquated CipherSync, dargonite, and coins, praying I don’t drop anything. I thrust everything into Velkan’s hands and watch him disappear out the door just as Sarth reappears, dragging Meldus by the collar. Ghil looms behind them, a butcher knife glinting in each fist.
My eyes lock briefly across the table with Nipper. He witnessed the entire exchange between Velkan and me. I can only hope his hatred of Sarth runs deep enough that he won’t turn me in. After a moment’s hesitation, he gives a subtle dip of his head. Relief surges through me. Whatever his reason, he’s not about to rat me out. If it’s blackmail, I’ll deal with it later. First, I have to get Meldus out of the line of fire.
Sarth beckons to Buir. “You first.”
Buir gets to her feet, regal as always and walks across the room. She stands head and shoulders above Sarth, stiff and unyielding as Sarth gropes around in her shamskin pockets and pats her down. After a few minutes, Sarth nods and dismisses her. “Go clean up the crew cabins.”
Buir throws me a worried look as she slips out the door.
Sarth turns her attention to me. “You’re up.”
I get to my feet and walk over to her. “Did they take the dargonite?” I ask, looking straight at her.
She ignores me and pulls open my shamskin. I bite down on my lip as her rough hands search through my pockets. When she’s done, she surveys me through narrowed slits for a moment. “That leaves your guard here as a suspect. He was the only one who stayed on board, except for that drunken lout, Nipper.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I retort. “Meldus had nothing to do with some random robbery. My father’s guards are trustworthy men.”
Sarth steps closer and sticks her face up to mine. “Maybe it wasn’t so random. Some people are a little too curious for their own good, and there’s a price to be paid for that kind of behavior.”
My pulse races. I can’t let Meldus pay the price for my actions.
“Get out!” Sarth says. “I’m done with you for now.”
“I’m not leaving here without Meldus,” I reply.
Quick as a flash she trains her gun on him. “You’ll leave without him if you want to see him again.”
I back away slowly. “He doesn’t know anything. If you hurt him, our deal is off.”
She lets out a scathing snort. “What deal?”
My blood ices over as the truth dawns on me. She has no intention of splitting the dargonite with me. Maybe she never did.
Sarth turns to Nipper and scowls. “Get back down to the engine room and finish those maintenance checks.”
Nipper climbs out over the bench and throws me a knowing look as he exits the room—a look that says I owe him.
Sarth presses her gun to Meldus’ head and raises her brows at me. “I’ll count to five. One, two … ”
My stomach churns as I turn and exit the room. I’ve got to get Meldus out of here, and quickly. If Ghil’s knife skills were honed cutting out tongues on Diretus, there’s no telling what he’ll do to make Meldus confess. And what can he possibly confess to other than that he knows I returned to the ship?
Girl of Fire: The Expulsion Project Book One (A Science Fiction Dystopian Thriller) Page 10
