Double Life

by S. Usher Evans

  "Well, shall we get started?" Lyssa said, not even bothering to look up. "Let’s say twenty thousand."

  "Twenty-one," one of the government buyers said quietly.

  "Twenty-two."

  "Twenty-five."

  "Eighteen."

  Lyssa looked up, as did the rest of the room. The smartly-dressed woman was standing in the doorway, her blood-red mouth shaped into a small line and her nose pointed at the ceiling. Up close, Lyssa was even more intimidated by her, although the men in the room seemed to sit up a little higher.

  "I think the number we were at was twenty-five—" Lyssa said, amazed at how small her own voice sounded.

  The woman laughed derisively. "Twenty-five thousand credits? For a planet you barely excavated?"

  "I did plenty of excavation," Lyssa countered nervously.

  The other buyers, rapt with attention, began nodding and looking at their copies of her presentation.

  "I will give you fifteen thousand for it," the woman said.

  Lyssa blinked at her, and laughed a little. "You can’t cut five thousand off my original asking price—"

  "Is there anyone in this room willing to pay twenty thousand for the planet?" the woman asked, looking around.

  "Come on!" Lyssa said, looking at the last person to bid.

  He shrugged helplessly as the woman’s lips curled into a smile.

  "Ten thousand," she responded.

  "I am not selling you this planet for ten thousand credits," Lyssa said, wondering when she'd lost control of this room. "There's plenty of data to support at least…at least thirteen."

  "Fine, twelve," The woman said.

  "Fine," Lyssa said, scared that she was going to go into the single digits next.

  "Excellent," the woman said, typing something into her computer. "We'll deposit the funds…" She tapped a button on her mini-computer. "Now. Thank you for your business."

  Lyssa suddenly realized that she'd just sold a planet for eight thousand credits less than her starting price.

  "Dammit!" she said, nearly kicking over the table as the buyers milled out. Although she had money again, it was probably only enough for her to hunt one bounty—and even that was cutting it close.

  Nor did she have time to excavate another planet—she had to get her bounty by the end of the Universal Day.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Three hours away from the capital system was D-882, a desert planet that could sustain life, but just barely. But it was near enough to a well-traveled transporter route, and so it had quickly become home to a thriving metropolis for pirates. The main city was filled with bars and clubs, casinos, and other guilty pleasures. The only other inhabited spot on the planet was on the complete opposite side—a jail intended to house the pirate population.

  But, thanks to the regular payments to U-POL brass by the runners, the prison remained empty except for the poor officers assigned to maintain it.

  Most of the U-POL officers worked in the giant marble and glass skyscraper that stuck out like a big, white sore thumb in the middle of the main city on D-882. Razia gave it no notice as she maneuvered around it, focused on trying to find a damn place to park her ship. Because of the limited space on the planet, parking within the inner city was at a premium. Many of the docking buildings set aside spaces for the top pirates in the galaxy, but as Razia was barely a speck on the radar, she would have to hunt for a space like everyone else.

  She grumbled, realizing she was going to have to park in the uninhabitable part of the city used for landfills, dumping, and cheap parking. It would add another two hours onto her trip both ways, but at this point, she might not have any other choice.

  She sped outside the city, finally finding a docking building she could park in. The bright lights and buildings cut off at the city’s borders, replaced by giant pits of garbage. Mixed between the garbage pits were tall, cylindrical docking stations. They functioned a bit like a puzzle, with as many small ships cramming around the big ships as the parking manager would allow. Razia’s ship was on the smaller side, so she was a little more flexible on where she could park.

  Finally, after what seemed like forever, she found a parking manager willing to accept her ship.

  But, unfortunately, it was about fifteen hundred credits per hour.

  "Damn," she muttered, looking at the clock. She had to capture the bounty and get him to the bounty office within the next six hours, or else she’d hear it from Dissident. But, he probably wouldn’t kick her out…

  She thought about it for a minute.

  No, he would.

  "Daaaamn," she said, accepting the charges to park.

  Her ship came to rest in the parking dock next to a much larger vessel—presumably a transporter ship. Before she left the dock, she compared the distance between her ship and the monstrosity next to her, calculating the blast radius if this ship were to leave before her. She'd been on the business end of a big ship once, and it had cost her nearly ten thousand credits to get the damaged fixed. Yet another setback she was still working through.

  Nervously satisfied that her ship would be fine, she grabbed her jacket from inside and locked the ship up using her mini-computer. She paused on the dock landing to check if bounty number seven hundred had made any transactions in the past hour.

  He hadn’t.

  The elevator opened, and a burly man covered in hair seemed shocked to see her on the lift. She ignored him and leaned against the wall, scrolling through the bounty lists absent-mindedly.

  Another floor, and again, another startled look.

  Sage had slipped to number twelve, she noted with a scowl.

  The elevator opened again and she leaned her head against the cool steel wall. Were they really stopping on every floor?

  She could feel four sets of eyes on her and shifted her weight to another leg, trying to ignore it.

  The door to the lift opened to a shuttle station. Because this docking center was so far out from the inner city, shuttles had been built to move people in and out. Unfortunately, because they were built by pirates, the system was unreliable, rickety, and took forever. She looked up at the broken down screen and rolled her eyes; the next train would be at least twenty minutes.

  Sighing, she plopped down on a bench on the far end of the station, away from the curious glances and looks. Then she pulled out her mini-computer and began looking through the latest news:

  Razia chuckled to herself. It wasn’t often that the top bounty was captured by the second most wanted. She clicked on Hardrict’s profile. He was one of Contestant’s goons. Between him and Relleck—who was number two now that Hardrict was number one—Contestant had two of the five most wanted pirates in his web.

  She sighed. If only Dissident would take her off probation, she’d knock then both out in a heartbeat.

  After an eternity of waiting, the shuttle finally came. She took a spot on the end of the shuttle, and was glad there was no one else in the car. She peered out into the darkness as the shuttle sped toward downtown, lost in her own thoughts.

  She caught her reflection in the window, and was suddenly reminded of that awful woman who'd cut her latest planet sale in half. That woman exuded confidence and badassery. The woman staring back at Razia was defeated and ready to give up..

  But she reminded herself that Razia wasn't weak. Razia was strong, confident, and would've told that woman where to stuff her eight thousand credits.

  The station she got off at was dingy and dimly lit, with one slow, long escalator. The shuttle system was built far underground to protect it from the punishing sun on the surface. But that also meant that the escalators to get to the surface were extra-long, going for three stories in some cases.

  Razia climbed on and clenched her fingers around the rubber railing. She told herself not to look back. But voices below drew her attention, and she glanced over her shoulder.

  Immediately, a jolt of fear snaked up her spine and she gripped the escalator harder as her bastard b
rain started to envision her losing her grip, falling backwards, tumbling head over feet straight into a river of fire.

  Shaking her head, she stomped up the stairs with purpose, her hands shaking as she clawed the moving railing for dear life.

  The top of the station opened into the streets of the city. Advertisements for alcohol and boobs blinked down at her, muted by the bright sun overhead. Open doors to dingy bars lined the streets around her, and a hot, dry wind did nothing more than knock dirt around. Iron tables and chairs littered the outside of bars with ratty awnings overhead. A few people sat outside, but most had retreated to the only slightly less stifling indoors.

  Before leaving the station, Razia check her bounty's transaction history to see if it had changed.

  It hadn’t.

  "Damn," she whispered.

  She crossed the street straight into a nondescript bar. As with everything else on this planet, a cloud of dust hung in the air, but inside it was almost pleasant. She scanned the bar, finding one lonely patron at a booth in the back.

  She trotted over, a smile growing on her face.

  "I thought I heard the pitter-patter of dainty feet," the man said, looking up from his tablet computer and smiling.

  "Hi, Harms," Razia said, slipping into the booth next to him. His beard was starting to show curls of gray, but his eyes were bright as he smiled at Razia much as a favorite uncle would.

  "What brings you out this way? Not that I don’t always love it when you visit me—but I assume you don’t need my services today?"

  Razia sighed. Harms was a pirate informant who knew the comings and goings of all the top pirates. He wasn’t affiliated with any web, as neutrality was better for business. He was the person a bounty hunter went to when bank accounts, aliases, and the pirate webs came up empty. Sometimes the amount of detailed information he knew was unnerving.

  "So I heard from a little birdie that someone was hunting Dalton Burk." Harms smiled at her.

  "I’m not hunting him," Razia said, unable to keep the grin off her face. "I was just…curious if he had a new alias."

  "Uh-huh," Harms said. "And did you find a new alias for him?"

  She shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe I did."

  "What is that? Three?" Harms said, impressed.

  "Four."

  "He’d better hope that you never join the web." Harms laughed.

  Razia started to laugh, but then dropped her head on the table. "This is humiliating."

  "I know, honey," Harms said, patting her comfortingly on the hand. "What number did he give you this time?"

  "Hands up, everyone!"

  A group of U-POL officers, wearing the finest gold-trimmed uniforms with special patches on their breasts, came barging into the bar. None of them were older than twenty-one or twenty-two, but they looked around with an undeserved sense of entitlement.

  Their leader, a fresh lieutenant with combed and short brown hair, a baby face, and wide eyes, was looking around intently. As the place was empty, except for Harms and Razia, he and his two compatriots came marching over, looking very much as if they wanted to arrest someone.

  "We are members of the U-POL Special Forces, conducting a raid on this known pirate bar," the lieutenant announced, trying very hard to make his high voice sound lower than it was.

  Harms winked at Razia, who watched them with amusement. The U-POL Special Forces were an "elite" unit of policemen dedicated to the eradication of pirates. However, as long as a pirate belonged to one of the four webs that paid huge sums of money to U-POL brass and overseeing politicians, even the Special Forces had no power to arrest them. And although she was on probation, Razia was still covered under the agreement.

  "Mr. Harms, you're clear," he said, nodding at Harms.

  "Thank you, Officer Opli." Harms nodded. "Do you want a drink—"

  "As for your friend," the officer said, turning to Razia. "Give me your identification."

  "Give me your identification…what?" Razia smirked. "I know your mother taught you some manners."

  "Razia, don’t be a twit," Harms said, giving her a look. "Give him your ID."

  Razia rolled her eyes as she pulled her C-card out of her pocket, making sure to give him the right one. The lieutenant’s gaze lingered on her two C-cards, but took only the one she handed to him, scanning it to check her identity.

  He grimaced, presumably seeing her membership, even probationary, in Dissident's web. "You’re free to go."

  The other officer leaned over the lieutenant’s shoulder. "Since when do they let girls in the pirate webs?"

  Razia snatched her card back and gave him a dirty look. "Move along now, junior."

  "Watch yourself," the young lieutenant said, giving Razia one final, authoritative glance.

  "Idiots." Razia mumbled, sticking her C-card back in its slot.

  "Oh come on, he can’t help it." Harms chuckled. "You know Jukin makes them do rounds around here to keep busy. I see that poor kid about once every two weeks."

  "I guess he’s got to let them do something, since he can’t arrest pirates anymore."

  "Pirates that belong to a pirate web," Harms corrected. "And you'd better watch yourself missy. You’ll be in a world of trouble if Dissident ever kicks you out."

  Razia, brought down to reality, grimaced. "Ugh, I don’t want to get this bounty."

  "What number is it again?"

  "Seven hundred."

  Harms smiled at her. "At least that’s not the last guy on the list again?"

  "Close enough." She sighed, sitting back. "I just want a chance to prove how good I can be. How good I am…"

  "The only way to get what you want is to keep at it. So, you should go get your bounty, like Dissident wants."

  She was getting tired of hearing that, so she gulped down her water and said, "I would, except he hasn't moved in a few hours."

  "Maybe he’s got an alias you don’t know about!"

  Razia sighed, frustrated.

  "So what else is new?" Harms asked.

  Razia thought about her slimy boss, Pymus, and getting an awful price for her planet because of some woman who was too pretty to be a real planet bidder, and nearly getting mauled by some giant cat, but couldn't share any of that with him. Harms didn't know about her other life and the whole other world she lived in. And she planned to keep it that way.

  She shook her head sadly.

  "Well, you know I love to chat with you," Harms said gingerly. "But I see another customer hanging out at the bar...and unfortunately, he's a paying customer so..."

  "I get it, I get it." Razia frowned as she stood.

  "Keep your chin up, kid," Harms said, as she skulked away.

  ***

  With nothing else to do, Razia headed over to the casino district. It had been a good long while since her bounty had made a purchase, and she was sure he’d be active any minute now. She passed under the bright lights, still blinking in the desert sun, and made her way down the line of casinos.

  She ducked into one doorway, the cool air conditioning hitting her like an icy blast. The sound of a million slot machines filled her ears, and the cigarette smoke made her cough. Zooming in on the picture of her bounty, she studied his face. He was middle-aged, but looked much older, probably from a life of piracy. His skin was brown and leathery, and his eyes were a dull gray. The last place he’d spent money was the bar, so that was probably a good place to start asking around.

  She pushed open the glass door to the bar and the jingling song of the slot machines quieted. A few sets of eyes were watching her, especially when Razia sauntered up to the bar and sat down.

  The bartender looked up from his paper, sniffed, then continued reading.

  "What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone in a place like this?"

  It was only a matter of time before they started coming out of the woodwork. She was holding out hope that once she actually made it as a respected pirate, it would stop. Razia tapped her fingers on the table and wa
ited patiently for the bartender to come, ignoring whoever was trying, pathetically, to hit on her.

  "Come now, don’t be like that—" A cold and sweaty hand reached around her.

  With a sigh of frustration, and faster than the man could react, she shot out her elbow and connected with his chest, then whipped her hand up to hit the bridge of his nose with the back of her hand, then brought her fist down on the base of his neck to knock him out.

  She wasn’t strong, but she knew the spots to hit.

  The other men of the bar stared at her, mouths open. She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and sat back down, acting as if nothing had happened, although inwardly, she was counting the minutes until he would wake up.

  She unhooked her mini-computer, zooming in on the picture again.

  "Have you seen him?" she asked the bartender, pushing her mini-computer toward him.

  "Oh yeah," he said, nodding and thumbing over to the left side of the bar. "He’s been out for hours."

  "...what?"

  "Yeah, come over here and look," he said, leading her around to the end of the bar.

  She blinked furiously, looking down at the drunken, sleeping body of the bounty she was supposed to bring in. He was on his back, drool pouring out of his open mouth, a bottle in his hand.

  "This the guy you’re looking for?" the bartender asked. "Is he your husband or something?"

  "Ridiculous," she said, whipping out the handcuffs from her utility belt. He was lying on a very odd looking purse. "What is that?" she asked the bartender.

  "A purse, he took it from some poor dear before he came in here."

  "For crying out loud…"

  ***

  Since Razia had neither the strength of ten men nor a crew, she'd fashioned herself a floating gurney with canvasses and discs on the four corners that hovered a few inches off the ground. Her bounty was still passed out cold, but she tied him up tight just in case he managed to wake up. Dragging her bounty behind her, she hurried past the U-POL building, glinting in the dying sunlight, toward the bounty office—a dark, dank little building next door. This was where pirates were turned in—and bounty hunters received payment for their efforts.