He offered his arm. “We should finish our tasks here quickly. We’re being watched.”
She took his arm. “You’re very serious too. It’s a wonder a free spirit such as myself is attracted to you.”
“It is,” he agreed, leading her down the street and past a statue atop a fountain—a bronze man in a fur cap was down on one knee and shooting a rifle. Alisa had seen several statues in a similar vein. She had wondered at the theme earlier, but if “monster hunting” was a popular hobby here, she could guess now.
“Out of curiosity, would you feel it if someone swatted you on the butt when you’re wearing your armor?”
“Probably not unless it was an extremely vigorous swat.”
“Like a spank?” She started to wriggle her eyebrows at him, but noticed the spy box out of the corner of her eye and sighed instead. He was right. This was the time for being serious and finishing tasks quickly.
Besides, his faceplate had turned toward the shops lining the street, something catching his eye, and he did not respond.
“Let’s go in there,” he said, his helmet tilting toward a store with a sword and shield painted on the door.
Alisa went in with him, figuring he wanted to try to avoid the spy box and nothing more. She hadn’t been paying attention to the shopfronts, other than to note they were in an upscale section of the city. Who would have guessed that purveyors of only-slightly-used arms set up shop next to diamond jewelers and hover vehicle dealerships?
To her surprise, gleaming suits of combat armor in several colors were modeled all around the store they entered, some in hover displays, some positioned in action poses on the floor. A few blazer rifles adorned the walls, too, but the place definitely specialized in armor.
Spotting a few smaller suits, ones that had room for hips and breasts, Alisa wandered toward them. As a pilot, she had never been enamored with personal armor, and she’d certainly never had a reason to fondle it lovingly, but she did so now, running her palm over a sleek blue suit. If she had such a suit, she wouldn’t have to hide in NavCom when enemies boarded her ship. And what would Jelena think if her mother rescued her while wearing such a getup? With the enhanced strength from the suit, Alisa could toss her into the air as Jonah had done when she’d been little, eliciting all manner of giggles. Would she still laugh at such antics?
A holodisplay next to the blue suit highlighted its specifications and showed it in all manner of positions, including disassembled in a matching armor case, but it neglected to mention the price, and Alisa’s daydreams faded. That meant she couldn’t afford it. The story of her life of late.
She turned, expecting Leonidas to be behind her. He stood near the doorway, eyeing the spy box. It remained outside, doing the aerial equivalent of pacing back and forth in front of the store.
“If there was any doubt that we’ve been singled out for observation, I think that quashes it,” Leonidas said.
“May I help you, sir? Ma’am?” a genteel voice asked. A robot on wheels rolled down an aisle, easily navigating around the displays. It had a humanoid torso, arms, and head. “I am Samuel 5, at your service,” it announced, then leaned forward on its axis in a semblance of a bow.
“We’re just—”
“The lady wishes to try available suits in her size,” Leonidas said. “Dragon line. Nothing raven, hawk, or sinagiar. The seam work and onboard computers on those aren’t acceptable for real combat.”
“Certainly, sir,” the robot said as Alisa mouthed, “What are you doing?”
This wasn’t the time for idle shopping, and it wasn’t as if she could afford dragon line, or any other line for that matter.
“Contemplating dinosaur hunting,” he said, meeting her eyes, his gaze intent. Almost intense.
A warm flush spread through her as she realized what he was saying, that he would go out into those marshes and risk himself to hunt giant predators that could probably bite right through combat armor. Because he knew she and her mouthy tendencies needed a suit of her own.
“That’s very thoughtful,” she said as the robot rolled toward the back of the store, “but we’re early on in our… ah.” Could she call it a relationship? Dating? They had kissed once, and even though it had been exciting for her, it couldn’t have been that interesting for him. She was flattered that he wanted to help her out, but accepting a gift worth thousands of tindarks wouldn’t be appropriate. “I think we’re at the stage where we give each other chocolates and flowers, not combat armor.”
“That doesn’t sound very useful.” He eyed the spy box again.
“Chocolate is always useful. Combat armor is… I’d feel the need to pay you back. And I can’t. There are so many things the ship needs before I can contemplate saving up money for something for myself.”
“You wouldn’t need to pay me back.”
“Yes, I would. With interest. I’d have to. Besides, it’s not like I could pay you in the other manner women without funds have paid men throughout history.”
He gave her a blank look.
“By having sex with you,” she said dryly. “Not that I would do that to pay a debt. I’m independent and self-respecting.” Please, if she had the opportunity, she would definitely pay him back by sleeping with him. She would sleep with him for no reason at all.
She sighed at herself, still feeling like she was betraying Jonah when she had these thoughts.
Not looking particularly titillated by the idea of being paid with sex, Leonidas nodded toward the spy box. “I suspect we’re going to get a visit from someone soon. Who that will be and what it will entail, I can’t guess. It could have to do with my bounty.”
“Or my ship, which has been responsible, whether intentionally or not, for the deaths of numerous White Dragon operatives—and the destruction of one of their ships.” True, she could hope Arkadius’s Northern Mists got the blame for the disappearance of that ship, but that might be delusional.
“If the information on the net is true, the White Dragon people are feuding with the Satin Scourge.” Leonidas waved toward the dome overhead. “I suspect this is about me. I may have to convince someone to alter his or her interest.”
“That might be difficult. You’re a fascinating man.”
“This way, ma’am,” the robot called from the back of the store. “I have prepared a fitting room and loaded an instructional vid to show you how to dress, should you be unfamiliar with dragon line combat armor.”
“Or combat armor of any line,” Alisa muttered to herself. She had seen all the pieces that went onto Leonidas, and it looked complicated, so she would not eschew the help of the video. If she went to the fitting room. She saw little point in trying anything on when they weren’t going to buy it.
“At least see what you like,” Leonidas said, as if reading her thoughts. “We can price it out and work on getting the funds, along with funds for the ship’s weapons.”
We. He said it so casually, implying that they were a team now and that they would take on financial struggles together. Even if they should be at the chocolate-and-flowers stage of their relationship, she couldn’t help but appreciate the simple word, the idea behind it. She missed being a part of a we.
“All right,” she said, struggling to come off as flippant rather than revealing the lump of emotion in her throat, “but don’t complain to Beck if I come out and ask your opinion on outfits.”
He gave her a quick salute, then returned to watching the street. It crossed her mind to wonder if he expected an attack and wanted her out of the way, so she would be safe. Well, she didn’t plan to take long back here, so he better prepare himself for having her back him up in a fight, whether he wanted that or not. Even better would be if they could evade an attack. Did the store have a back door they might use to slip out? She would check after trying on the blue armor.
With the instructional holodisplay helping her, Alisa managed to get the various pieces on. Fortunately, they were self-adjusting, but she wouldn’t have minded
an actual person advising her. Such as Leonidas. He could tell her if her toes were supposed to be numb or how long it took to get past the claustrophobic feeling. The suit was tighter than a spacesuit, molding precisely to her body, and she couldn’t bring herself to don the helmet for more than a few seconds. The computer inside gave her an irritated beep because she interrupted its calibrations when she removed it.
“You’ll just take some getting used to,” she told the suit, running a gauntleted hand down her waist and eyeing herself in the mirror.
The armor was not as unflattering as she expected, despite the extra bulk, and she couldn’t help but admire it. She took an experimental jump, wondering if the leg pieces would automatically give her extra strength or if that was something she had to order it to do. To her delight, the little hop almost took her to the ceiling. She laughed until she realized she could have cracked her head if she had tried to jump any higher. Getting used to the armor would take a lot of practice. She wondered how long it had taken Leonidas to get used to his extra strength after his implants had been installed.
“Alisa?” came his soft voice from outside the fitting room.
“Did you come to admire how sexy and sleek I look in this armor?” she asked.
“There are two androids in paramilitary garb heading down the street toward this shop.”
Alisa groaned and started peeling off the armor. “The proper response to my question would have been yes.”
“My apologies.”
“How long do we have?”
The armor came off more quickly than it had gone on, but it still took time to remove.
“May I help you, sirs?” the robot’s genteel voice sounded from the front of the store as it greeted new customers. Or perhaps androids.
“Not long,” Leonidas murmured.
Alisa yanked off the boots, her elbows thunking against the walls of the cubicle. She hurried to tug her jacket and trousers back on, having worn only her undergarments to try on the armor. In her haste, she pitched sideways. She tried to catch herself on the swinging door, but she must not have locked it, because it opened. She tumbled out of the changing room, her trousers halfway up. Leonidas was standing there and caught her. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or mortified.
He wasn’t looking at her. Though he held her, he faced two figures in black uniforms with silver piping. They had identical faces and identical short brown hair swept to the side, and they stared back at Leonidas with expressionless silver eyes. They each carried two sidearms, as well as batons, but they had not reached for them yet. Why bother? An android had even more strength and speed than a cyborg. Alisa wondered if Leonidas’s armor would even out the odds. She remembered the heroic battle he’d had with the android staff hunters. He had survived, but he had only battled one at a time.
“The boss requires us to bring you to the palace,” one of the androids said.
They addressed Leonidas, neither glancing down at Alisa. Glad for their indifference—and that they were androids instead of leering brutes who would stare at her panties—she extricated herself from Leonidas’s arms and hustled to finishing dressing.
“Me?” Leonidas asked. “Or both of us?”
“Only your presence is required.”
The sales robot rolled about behind the androids, not seeming to know what to do.
“Very well,” Leonidas said and lifted a hand toward Alisa. “Take the masks and get back to the ship so you can finish your mission.”
It was a very reasonable thing to say, even if it came out like an order, but Alisa found herself saying, “The hells I will.”
Leonidas frowned. “Whatever this is—”
“I’m going with you.” She fastened her trousers, grabbed the bag of masks, and grasped his arm. “I’m not letting you disappear into some boss’s palace where you might be tortured or shot.”
She looked at the androids, hoping for a clue as to what fate they had in mind for Leonidas, but of course, their neutral expressions gave away nothing.
“Your presence there won’t change anything,” he said quietly, “and you put yourself at risk for no reason.”
“There’s a reason,” she said, tightening her grip on his arm, wondering if he would understand. “And how do you know I won’t be able to change anything? I’m not snooty like you. I’m a people person.”
She waited for him to mention all the times that her sarcastic mouth had utterly failed to endear people to her.
Instead, he sighed and said, “As you wish.”
Maybe he believed she could do something to help. Or maybe he just didn’t want to argue with his new employer.
The androids guided them out of the store, one walking ahead, and one walking behind. The spy box floated cheerfully after them.
Chapter 5
“Mica?” Alisa murmured into her comm unit as their android guides—captors—led her and Leonidas up wide stone steps and toward the massive doors of a building that looked more like a bunker than a palace. Rectangular and four stories tall, it had window slits, rather than windows, thick cement walls, and drones and human guards patrolling the roof and the grounds around it. Twilight seemed to have come outside of the dome, and that only lengthened the shadows and made the place appear gloomier.
“Did you get my list?” Mica promptly responded.
“Your what?”
One of the androids looked back at her. So far, they had not tried to take her weapons or asked Leonidas to remove his armor. He still wore his helmet and carried a rifle in addition to all of the weaponry built into the suit.
“My list of supplies,” Mica said. “Refrigerated cargo holds don’t magically appear on ships.”
“Ah. That’ll have to wait. Leonidas and I are being escorted into what I assume is the palace of the mafia boss who controls this city.”
“I thought you were shopping for masks.”
“We did that. We decided to branch out.”
“To a mafia palace?” Mica asked. “That sounds unhealthy.”
“It likely is.”
“If you get killed, who gets the ship?” Mica asked.
“What?”
“Do you have a will made out? People with dangerous jobs are supposed to do that.”
“I haven’t gotten around to it yet, so I’ll just have to live.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Stop being pessimistic. Is Beck back? Can you let him know—”
“He hasn’t come back yet.”
Alisa grimaced. How long did it take to arrange a meeting?
The androids led Alisa and Leonidas through the double doors. A security scanner unleashed a storm of beeps when he walked through it. It gave a mild protest for Alisa, noting the Etcher holstered under her jacket.
“All right, then let Abelardus know…” Her grimace deepened. She hated the idea of relying upon him, but who else did she have on board that could handle it? She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Let him know where we are, and tell him that if we’re not back by dawn, a rescue would not go unappreciated.”
Leonidas’s helmet swiveled toward her, the glower behind his faceplate suggesting that he might not appreciate a rescue. “It’s early to ask for that, don’t you think?”
One of the androids turned, removed her Etcher, and took her comm unit.
“No,” Alisa said. “I don’t think it was.”
The other android had moved down the hallway and was murmuring into his earstar. A few robots and drones meandered through the broad passage, but so far, she had not seen any humans inside. Maybe the boss lived here alone, surrounded by mechanical servants. She had always imagined the mafia as having huge family-run organizations, but she had no idea who was in charge of this one.
The second android returned. Alisa expected one of them to order Leonidas to remove his armor and to try to take his rifle.
Instead, the android that had been talking with someone said, “This way,” and continued down the hallway.
Puzzled, Alisa followed in silence. Why would they bother taking her belongings while letting Leonidas walk about fully armed and armored?
They passed several statues and paintings as they headed to an elevator. Alisa knew nothing about the art universe and had no idea if they were reproductions or originals or if they had any value.
Their group stepped into an elevator that took them to the top floor, where they walked out into a loft space with no interior walls aside from a few half walls. The entire fourth floor of the building was someone’s residence with all manner of tables, sofas, fur rugs, lounge chairs, and statuary sprawled across the space. A distant corner held a kitchen that was only partially sectioned off from the rest.
Soft sounds filtered through the vast room, the murmur of voices and the sucking of boots in mud, a noise that did not match with the tile floor. It came from one of the long walls where several live video feeds of the terrain outside the dome were on display. The familiar fungal stalks and swamps proliferated the area. The cameras moved to follow people in each video, sometimes groups of people and sometimes singles. They all carried weapons, everything from assault rifles to swords, and wore clothes and gear similar to what the young men asking about hiring guides had worn. Breathing masks identical to the ones Alisa had purchased covered the people’s lower faces, but all of their eyes were visible and wary as they scanned their surroundings.
One of the pterodactyl-like creatures flew toward a group of four men and women, and Alisa jumped.
Whatever camera was tracking them zoomed in close to follow the action. The people saw it coming—a screech sounded from integrated speakers that Alisa could not see—and stood back to back, raising their weapons. They fired, eliciting more screeches from the creature, but not deterring it. It flapped in, extending bird-like legs with long, sharp talons on the ends. It lunged for a woman with a blazer rifle. A man standing next to her dropped his firearm and hacked at the creature with a sword as its talons wrapped around her arm. He struck one of its wings, drawing a thick ichor that might have qualified as blood, but the creature did not let go. It battered him in the head as it flapped its wings, then it lifted into the air, carrying the woman with it, as if she were a mouse instead of a human being.
Cleon Moon Page 5
