She removed a small gun-shaped device from her belt and fired it toward the dome overhead. A cherry-sized globule of a sticky rubbery substance shot from the gun and thunked against the glass. Attached to the glob was a nearly invisible microfilament line that connected to Pepper’s belt. She pressed a button and the line went taut, pulling her upwards. When she neared the glass, some ten yards above the floor, she hit the button again and the servos in her belt winch stopped. She pulled the plasma cutter from her belt and began to cut a person-sized hole in the glass. She had almost completed the circle when she heard footsteps moving toward her. She shut off the cutter and froze.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a security guard striding into the room, holding a flashlight in front of him. Pepper hoped the man was just cutting through the room, but he stopped a few meters into the room and started looking around the greenhouse, apparently suspecting that the intruder might be hiding among the plants. Fortunately, he had not yet thought to look up.
As the man made his slow, deliberate survey of the greenhouse, Pepper caught a glint of light reflected from the glass above. It took her a split second to realize the gap in the circle had cracked: the half-meter disc of glass was going to fall.
Pepper swept her right arm out and clamped her hand on the edge of the glass as it fell past her. It was heavier than she expected; the glass was nearly two centimeters thick. It nearly slipped out of her fingers before she grabbed it with her other hand as well. She hung upside-down from the microfilament at her waist, straining to hold onto the heavy glass disc. Below her, the guard continued to wave his flashlight slowly back and forth. The glass was slowly slipping from her gloved fingers. She wasn’t going to be able to hold it for long.
If she timed it right, she might be able to hit the guard right on his head. In addition to the difficulty of this task, though, Pepper was worried the blow to the skull might kill the man. He was just a museum security guard, after all; he didn’t deserve to die for doing his job. But the alternative was to let the glass fall to the marble floor and shatter. The guard would quickly realize it had fallen from the ceiling and look up—and Pepper would be caught. A blast from his stungun would incapacitate her until the police arrived.
Her only chance was to drop the glass far enough from the guard that he wouldn’t immediately realize what had happened. If she could toss it into one of the planters a few meters from where he stood, he might be distracted long enough for her to climb onto the roof and escape.
Squeezing the glass disc as tightly as she could, she began to rock back and forth, swinging her body and the glass like a giant pendulum. The centrifugal pull added to the weight made it even harder to hold onto the glass, and it slipped even farther, until her fingertips were barely clutching the edge. She couldn’t see below her and all she could hear was the rushing of blood in her head. The shadows dancing on the wall twenty meters or so in front of her indicated that the guard was still standing underneath her, scanning the room with his flashlight.
Pepper managed to swing back and forth three more times, slightly increasing the length of her arc each time. At the peak of the third forward swing, the glass slipped from Pepper’s left hand. She managed to hold onto it for another second or so with her right before letting it go at the apogee of her backward swing. Feeling like she was on the verge of blacking out, she swung herself forward once more. At the end of the arc, she hooked the fingertips of her left hand on the edge of the hole over her head. As she grabbed the edge with her right hand as well, she listened for the sound of the glass shattering below. It didn’t come.
Pepper swung her legs onto the other side of the glass, released the microfilament line, and glanced down. Now she saw what had happened: letting go of the glass with her left hand had caused the disc to pivot sideways, so it had landed on its edge. The disc was now rolling toward the doorway the guard had walked through a few seconds earlier. As she watched, a second guard came through the doorway and immediately had his legs knocked out from underneath him by the heavy glass disc. He fell to the floor, screaming and clutching his knee. The disc wobbled and fell to the floor like a gigantic coin.
The other guard spun to face the newcomer. “Steve?” he asked uncertainly, shining his flashlight on the man howling on the ground. “Is that you? What happened?”
“Glass… hit me…” Steve moaned.
“Glass?” asked the other man. “What the…” As the answer dawned on him, he craned his neck upward. But Pepper had already clambered onto the top of the pane. She gave the guard a grin and a wave and made her way down the dome to the flat part of the museum roof.
She heard sirens and saw flashing lights in the distance. The cops were on their way, but it would take them some time to close a perimeter around the museum. By then, Pepper would be long gone.
She ran along the roof of the museum toward an alley, keeping low to avoid being seen. She leaped across the alley to the roof of a nearby building, then continued across it and made her way down a fire escape. Meandering through the maze of alleys and side streets, she came to a trash bin where she’d stashed a bag containing a change of clothes. She dumped her gear in the bin and put on the clothes over the stealth suit, then called a robocab to meet her at an intersection a few blocks away. The car was waiting when she got there. She got inside and told it to drive toward the spaceport. When she was certain she wasn’t being followed, she gave it the coordinates to Blemmis’ apartment. She had briefed Blemmis on the basics of her plan and told her when to expect her. The cab pulled up ten minutes later and she got out and took the elevator to the thirty-eighth floor apartment. The door to the apartment opened before she could even knock.
“Good evening, Pepper,” said the small, gray-haired man who opened the door. “It seems that we have some business to discuss.”
It was Sam Suharu.
Chapter 9
“What the hell are you doing here, Sam?” Pepper blurted out. “Where’s Blemmis?”
“Come in, please, Pepper,” Sam said. “I’d prefer not to discuss business in the hallway.”
Pepper reluctantly entered the apartment. She saw that Blemmis was seated in his oversized chair, a glum look on his face. A burly member of the pig-like Nork species stood next to him, holding a lazegun.
“Are you okay, Blemmis? Did these bastards hurt you?”
“I’m okay,” said Blemmis. He seemed more embarrassed than afraid.
“He’s fine,” Sam said, taking a seat on the couch next to Blemmis. “Please, Pepper,” he said. “Have a seat.”
Pepper glanced at the Nork, who glowered at her. She sat down.
“Do you have it on you?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pepper replied.
Sam sighed. “Blemmis told us all about your plan. Something about insects? I have to admit, it sounded crazy to me, but if my reports from the scene are correct, you pulled it off.”
Pepper glared at Blemmis.
“Don’t blame him,” Sam said. “He tried to warn you. As usual, you didn’t listen.”
“Warn me? What are you talking about?”
“Think about it, Pepper. Why do you think the Emerald of Sobalt Prime was put on display on a backwater planet like Yanthus Prime? The Ursa Minor mob arranged this whole thing. We made a rather generous grant to the Yanthus Prime City Museum—in the name of a shell company, of course—that was contingent upon the museum getting on the list of venues where the Emerald of Sobalt Prime would be displayed. With that grant, the museum was able to provide a kickback to the owners of the emerald, convincing them to add Yanthus Prime to the list of locations on the tour.”
Pepper stared at him. “You got the emerald moved here so you could steal it.”
“That was the idea,” Sam said. “The security at Yanthus Prime City Museum has always been laughably ineffective—as you well know. Unfortunately, the current museum director is smarter than I gave him credit for. He used some of our gr
ant money to upgrade the museum’s security. We called in every expert we’d ever worked with to try to figure out how to bypass the security—including Blemmis here. He wasn’t particularly helpful, at least not at first. But then a few days ago he called me and told me he might know a way to get the emerald.”
Pepper turned to Blemmis. “You told them I was going to steal the emerald. You double-crossed me.”
“I’m sorry, Pepper,” Blemmis said. “I had no choice. Sam knows I’m your fence. If the emerald went missing, he’d come after me.”
“You could have told me,” Pepper said.
“If he’d told you, you wouldn’t have done it,” Sam said.
“Why not? We could have come to some kind of arrangement. Hell, the only reason I’m doing this is because of the money I owe you guys. I just need to get off planet. You guys could have had the rest of my share.”
“As I understand it,” Sam said, “your share is only a third of what’s left after Blemmis takes his cut. The rest was going to go to this Dr. Harmigen character.”
“Technically, only a third goes to Dr. Harmigen. The rest goes to the metaswarm.”
“Ah, yes, the metaswarm,” said Sam, chuckling. “I didn’t believe it when Blemmis told me, but I told myself Pepper is a smart girl. Give her a chance and maybe she’ll pull this off. And by Space, you did it!”
“Yeah,” said Pepper unenthusiastically. “Yay me.”
“Cheer up, Pepper,” Sam said. “I appreciate your hard work on this job. Perhaps we can still come to some kind of arrangement.”
“What kind of arrangement?”
“Blemmis tells me you want passage off planet and enough money to change your identity. I can make that happen. I’ve got a ship fueled up and ready to go.”
“In exchange for what?”
“The emerald, of course.”
Pepper studied Sam for a moment. “You’re saying Dr. Harmigen and the metaswarm get screwed.”
Sam laughed. “Well, yes. I’m not cutting in a disgraced old man and a bunch of insects. I’m paying you and Blemmis a reasonable fee for your time and expertise. But the emerald is mine.”
Pepper continued to stare. But she was no longer watching Sam. She was watching the wall behind him, on which several dozen flies had landed. They gradually coalesced to form the words:
Do it.
Pepper’s eyes locked on Sam’s. “Fine,” she said. “But I’m going to need some assurances.”
“All right,” Sam said cautiously. “What kind of assurances?”
“I want to see this ship.”
“Ship?” asked Sam, seeming confused.
“The one you’ve got waiting for me?”
“Oh, yes!” Sam exclaimed. “Of course. The ship.”
Pepper’s eyes narrowed. “You’d better not be jerking me around, Sam.” She pulled the emerald from her left pocket and with her right hand she unhooked the plasma cutter from her belt. She held the tip of the cutter to the emerald.
“You wouldn’t,” said Sam.
“I absolutely would,” said Pepper. “This thing can cut through a diamond. An emerald might as well be butter. One scratch on this stone and it’s worthless.”
“All right, all right,” Sam said. “Take it easy, Pepper. I’ll take you to the ship.”
“Now,” Pepper said.
Sam nodded. He turned to the gun-toting Nork. “Xartis, get the car.”
Xartis grunted and walked to the door.
“Let’s go, Pepper,” said Sam, getting up from his chair.
“You first,” Pepper said.
Sam shrugged and followed Xartis out the door. Pepper, still holding the plasma cutter to the stone, followed him.
*****
Twenty minutes later, Sam’s car pulled up to a hangar near the spaceport. Parked nearby was the most beautiful spaceship Pepper had ever seen. It was sleek and black and appeared to be brand new. Sam certainly hadn’t skimped on an escape vehicle. Pepper, Sam and Xartis got out.
“Wow,” said Pepper, staring at the ship. She was still holding the emerald and the plasma cutter.
“Nice, huh?” Sam said. “She’s all yours. Keys are inside.”
Pepper frowned as she read the letters on the side of the ship. They read:
Fiat Tenebris
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Hell if I know,” said Sam. “The designer probably just needed a name, so they made up something that sounded cool.”
“It’s Latin,” Xartis said. “It means ‘Let there be darkness.’”
“Well, that’s depressing,” said Pepper. “I’m going to have to rename it.”
“The name can be anything you want. It’s a blank slate as far as I’m concerned.”
“Tabula Rasa,” Xartis murmured.
“Ooh, that’s pretty good,” said Sam. “You should go with that.”
“Hang on,” said Pepper. “Who’s that?” The gangplank of the ship had been lowered and two men were leaving the ship. It soon became evident they were wearing the bright orange armor of the Malarchian Marines.
“Marines!” Pepper gasped. “Sam, what the—” Just then, something struck her on the back of her head and she stumbled to the ground. She was vaguely aware of someone grabbing the emerald out of her hand. As she rolled onto her back, dazed, she saw Xartis standing over her, the emerald in one hand and a blackjack in the other.
“Sic transit gloria,” Xartis said.
“Took you long enough,” Sam replied.
“I had to wait until she was distracted,” said Xartis.
“You bastard,” Pepper muttered. “You never had any intention of letting me go.”
“I’m afraid that’s true,” Sam replied. “I was just stalling.”
“But then… whose ship…?” Pepper asked.
A shrill, loud voice squeaked at them from the darkness. “You’re early!”
“Apologies, your Lordship,” said Sam. “Had a bit of a complication with our procurement division.”
Pepper turned her head to see an imposing man striding toward them, flanked by two Marines. He wore a tight-fitting crimson leather uniform, a helmet festooned with peacock feathers and a luxurious fur cape.
It was Heinous Vlaak.
Chapter 10
“You have the emerald?” Vlaak asked. “His Primacy is very anxious to complete his collection.”
“Right here,” Sam said. “Xartis, give the man the emerald.”
“Caveat emptor,” said Sam, handing Vlaak the emerald.
“What’s your Nork jabbering about?” Vlaak squeaked.
“Ignore him,” said Sam, with a glare at Xartis.
As Vlaak examined the emerald, Pepper got slowly to her feet.
“And who is this?” Vlaak asked.
“A loose end,” Sam said. “I was about to have Xartis take care of her.”
“Pity,” said Vlaak. “She’d be cute if she did something about that nose.”
“Space yourself, Vlaak,” Pepper spat.
“I see my fame has preceded me,” Vlaak said. “Do I know you, young lady?”
“The stench still lingers from the last time you visited this planet.”
“Charming,” said Vlaak. “Kill her.”
“Right here?” asked Sam. “We’re in full view of the spaceport.”
Vlaak broke into laughter. “What are you worried about? The police? Have you forgotten our arrangement? Now that you’ve given me the emerald, your syndicate has the full backing of the Malarchy. You no longer need to worry about the local police.”
“Very good,” said Sam, nodding with approval. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Vlaak. I am confident that our takeover of Yanthus Prime will be profitable for us both.”
“It had better be,” replied Vlaak. “Now, if you don’t mind, I must be going. Are you going to kill her or am I?”
“We’ll do it,” said Sam. “Xartis?”
Xartis nodded and reached for
the lazegun at his hip. As he did so, a fly landed on his nose. He brushed it away with his left hand, but two more landed on his forehead.
“Stop screwing around and shoot her,” Sam growled. But even as he spoke, several more flies landed on Xartis’s face. Many more were buzzing around his head. Xartis began waving his gun at them as well.
“Watch it!” Sam cried, ducking as the gun swung in his direction. The Marines drew their weapons too.
“Everybody cool it!” shrieked Vlaak. But the flies had begun to plague the rest of them as well. They were buzzing around Sam’s head and seemed to be getting inside the Marines’ helmets. The Marines, barely able to see through their helmets as they were, stumbled around, swatting wildly at the flies. They stumbled into each other, fired simultaneously, and fell to the tarmac, dead. Meanwhile, Heinous Vlaak was struggling to remove his helmet. “Get it off!” he shrieked. “They’re going up my—hnnnggtthhhh!” It was unclear whether he was sneezing or retching.
Sam and Xartis, almost completely obscured in a dark cloud of flies, were running around in circles, swatting futilely at themselves. The only person the flies weren’t bothering was Pepper.
In the distance, she saw headlights approaching. While Vlaak continued to struggle with his helmet and Sam and Xartis ran in circles, a car pulled up next to Sam’s. Two small, pear-shaped figures got out.
“Dr. Harmigen!” Pepper cried. “What are you doing here?”
“Ethel told me you were in trouble. Where’s the emerald?”
“Vlaak’s got it.”
“Hey, Vlaak,” Dr. Harmigen yelled, walking toward him. “Drop the emerald and I’ll call off the flies.”
“No!” Vlaak shrieked. “It’s mine! I’m not giving up a priceless emerald to get rid of a few annoying bugs!”
“A hundred flies are annoying,” Dr. Harmigen said. “A thousand are a severe respiratory hazard.”
The Yanthus Prime Job: A Pepper Melange Novella (Starship Grifters) Page 6
