There was a quick wave of whispers through the crowd, and Del found himself adding up the potential winnings greedily.
"Nice! Very nice. I'm sure there won't be an objections,” Hector said, his demeanor doing an about-face.
"I'm sure there won't,” she murmured in reply, but without taking her eyes off of the other pilot.
He nodded curtly and dropped his gaze, stepping back again.
With a cold smile, she turned away, placing hands on hips as she gave Hector an inquiring look. “So? What do you have for me?"
"Many good slicers,” he hurried to assure her like a farmer trying to sell his best meat stock. “I think you'll get a good run out of these."
"We'll see,” she answered cynically and started to make a slow circuit around the ring of pilots. She paused for a second before the small bald-headed woman and gave her a short bow, the expression on her face turning almost respectful.
The woman flushed bright red, but returned the bow, and Del took a closer look at her, puzzled. He noticed the small blue tattoo at the corner of her left eye and cursed under his breath. She was an ascetic, of the Order of the Blue Sun, dedicated to mastering the balance between the mind and body. They believed that balance was the only way they could truly live in harmony with the universe and thus ascend to the next plane of existence. With their mental and physical discipline, a Sun ascetic would make a formidable slicing opponent. What the hell she was doing out here on the Fringe, Del had no idea, but he wasn't pleased. She would be more of a challenge than he'd originally thought.
Hector's black clad tormentress had moved on, and the rest of the pilots appeared bitter about being inspected like a rack of meat, shooting each other sullen looks. She paused again and pointed to one of the jittery fellows.
"He goes,” she announced, and a louder whisper made its rounds through the crowd.
"But he's already paid—” Hector started to say weakly, but she waved him off.
"He's rejecting his wetware."
"W-what?” the man in question squeaked in protest.
She ignored him, addressing her comments to Hector. “You can see it in his leaky eyes and the red bands around his data port. He might also be on something, but his implants are definitely going to go critical in short order. He's a walking time bomb. If he's slicing when that thing scrambles his brains, he's going to take out someone else besides himself, and I certainly don't want to be that someone else. Do any of you?"
The other pilots shifted uneasily and muttered to each other. She watched them with an amused smirk on her face, and Del thought she was expecting just this kind of reaction. He saw her exchange a cynical glance and a hard grin with her silent companion.
"Yes, kiddies, that means less credit in the pot. Never fear, I have a solution. I'll double the winnings—again."
Quadruple the credit. Del surreptitiously wiped at his mouth to make sure he wasn't drooling, his heart thudding a wild rhythm of hope. That would mean he'd make enough in this one race to pay back the Core. If he won, that is.
He was pulled out of his dreams of freedom from the Core when she moved to stand in front of him, looking him up and down with a frown.
"This one's a mountain! How does he even fit in a slicer, let alone get it off the pad?"
"Del's a hit and a half, Lady Shadow,” Hector interjected breathlessly. He looked like he might have come in his pants when she'd mentioned quadrupling the credit. “In my opinion, he's your best chance for an exciting slice."
She hummed doubtfully and met Del's gaze, gesturing towards the row of slicers. “Which is yours, then?"
Annoyed by her high-handed manner and stung by her implication that he wasn't worthy, he stepped close, forcing her to tip her head back to meet his gaze. “As you said, the skill is in the pilot. Try me."
The corners of those incredible green eyes crinkled and her lips compressed as though she was trying hard to suppress a smile. A scent wafted up from her skin that was a mysterious combination of sweet and spice, and Del was alarmed at the sudden, powerful stab of lust that went through him.
"The red X780 series, then,” she murmured, her eyes assessing as she stared into his.
He hoped like hell she couldn't see the hunger storming through him.
"A good model—and it's been lightened."
He wondered just how she'd known that he'd modified his ship to take his weight, but he didn't bother asking. He had a strong feeling that she would only curl that luscious mouth in a smile and dismiss him, as she did a few seconds later without any prompting from him.
"He'll do,” she stated and turned away as if he'd ceased to exist. “Here's how it's going to run, Hector.” She snatched the creditor out of the little man's fingers, making him jump and quiver. “My brother holds. You'll get your cut after the winner has the take. That way you won't be tempted to just make off with the whole thing."
"I would never—” Hec started to say in a high, prissy voice, but she cut him off.
"I know that you know how dangerous that would be to your health, but I also know that greed is an illness with you, my stinky friend.” She slipped the creditor under his hand and raised it in front of his face, her voice softening menacingly. “And some lessons need to be learned twice."
He snatched his hands behind his back with a round-eyed stare of pure terror and stumbled back from her. “N-not me, Lady! You want him to hold, he holds!"
"Very prudent of you, Hector. Also, we'd like to see the run you've laid out."
"I'll download that into—"
"Now,” she barked and pulled a flat disc from her jacket the size of her palm. Pressing the center of it, she flipped it into the air. It defied gravity and paused in mid-arc, spinning so rapidly that it seemed to disappear. Above it, a ghostly stretch of the asteroid belt became visible.
Del stared at it, impressed. Holodiscs were not cheap. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hector pull something out of his grimy clothes, but he didn't take his eyes off of the hologram. In another moment, a red line began to squiggle through the spinning rocks, marking the course of the slice that Hector had devised for them. When the line terminated, he heard his green-eyed temptation snort in what sounded like disgust and thought he could see why. The course was by no means simple, but it also wasn't the most difficult run Del had ever taken.
"You call that a run? Why don't you just have us chase each other in a big circle?"
Hector was still being prudent and kept his mouth shut, eyes lowered.
She shook her dark head and turned towards the other pilots. “Has everyone bled credit?"
Del nodded when her eyes rested on him, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore the increase in his heart rate. Damn it, he was acting like a teenager on a first date. When the last two pilots stepped forward to ante up, Del edged closer to Hector. “Who is she?"
The little man gave him a look full of miserable contempt. “You don't wanna know, believe me."
Del thought about that for a second. “Is she Core?” he asked with what he thought was credible nonchalance. They were the only ones he could think of who might have this kind of influence out here.
"You wanna live?” Hector hissed urgently, gripping Del's arm with panicky force. “Don't ask those kinda questions!"
That meant yes. Maybe. Del frowned. “What'd she do to your hand, Hec?"
"Broke it,” the little man mumbled, beady eyes narrowing on her with black hate. The crediting had been done, and she was handing the device over to her brother.
"Why?"
Hector raised his gaze and studied Del with a kind of greasy calculation that made his skin crawl. He abruptly decided that he didn't want to know what the slime ball had done to deserve a broken hand. The pilots were moving towards their slicers, and Del started after them.
Hector paced him, almost skipping to keep up with Del's longer stride. “She's never lost a slice, you know."
That wasn't something Del needed to hear. He watched brother and
sister as they had a short conversation and shared a predator's grin before she moved to her slicer.
"But I've got my credit on you, big man. You don't lose much either.” Of course Hector wanted Del to win, or at least, some other pilot besides the green-eyed beauty. It meant his cut would be four times its normal size.
Del was on the verge of telling the little man to get away from him, but curiosity made him pause before his own slicer and look down at him. “Why Shadow?” He didn't bother asking if it was their real name. He knew it wasn't.
Hector eyed him with that squinty calculation again before saying, “Have a good slice,” and walking away.
Del wondered for a second if the little man was protecting himself or Del with his silence, but then he scoffed. Hector's middle name was self-interest. If he ended up protecting Del, it was by accident or a way to shield himself from harm.
With practiced ease, Del lowered into his slicer, feeling as always the fierce pride and pleasure of knowing that this machine was his and his alone. In all the time he'd been enslaved to Quasicore, they'd never once tried to make his slicer part of the debt. He knew part of the reason was that he'd made credit for them with it. But another part was that if you break a dog down to the ground, it wouldn't run as well for you anymore—maybe it wouldn't run at all. They'd known that, the devious bastards.
Del started her up and smiled at the sweet hum of the engines, a sound more felt than heard, like a current under his skin. He settled into the cushions and slid the connector into his data port, bracing for the rush of disorienting information that flooded his mind and senses.
A slicer pilot didn't just fly a slicer; he became part of it. Del not only knew how the engines were running, but could feel them, feel each system and part running smooth and sweet. The slicer's skin became his skin, and her eyes became his. The slicer became an extension of himself, and he welcomed it as a lover who has returned home. Some were unable to handle the dichotomy of being a human and a ship at the same time, or the constant flood of information from the ship's systems, its inner workings and its sensor readings of the surrounding environment. It took a very cool, focused mind and a confident personality to be able to handle a slicer.
With a thought, Del lifted the slicer from her pad, sensing as he did the others rising with him. The navigational systems drenched his mind with the specs of the course as it was downloaded into the slicer. He let it soak into him until the run was as familiar to him as his skin and then firmly bottled the information.
Moving with the other slicers, he headed through the atmosphere shield and out of the hangar, carefully watching how the others flew. More precisely, he was watching how Lady Shadow and her black demon flew. They were beauty in motion, and he forgot to breathe as she dipped into startup position at the head of the course. He slid into position next to her, trying not to gawk like a novice at her vessel. The others arrayed themselves around them like a wheel at the very edge of the starting line.
Waiting for the signal that began the slice, Del took several deep, calming breaths, clearing his mind of clutter and settling into the cold, focused part of him that always took control in a race. He became more of a creature of instinct and intuition than thought, a necessary metamorphosis in a race where a second was an eternity—taking the time to think at best would lose him the slice and at worst would get him dead.
When it came, the signal was not audible, but more of a sting on his nerves. Before his conscious mind could even register that yes, that was the signal to go, he was on the move. Right off the line, the slice became a race of not seven slicers, but four, as three of them took too long getting their start. Del registered the pilots with a small sliver of his mind—his Shadow beauty, the ascetic, and the quiet man dodged the first of the asteroids with him in a close bunch. But the course narrowed abruptly as two massive ‘roids spun together, and Del found himself squeezing in behind the black slicer, flipping his own ship on its edge to slide in between the rock monsters.
Past the duo ‘roids, the course took a ninety-degree to the left, which shouldn't have been a problem except that a small rogue asteroid bulleted at them with suicidal intent. It wasn't big enough to smash a slicer, but it could still take somebody out of the running if it hit right.
These things only registered after Del had twisted out of the asteroid's way sinuously, never losing his spot behind the Lady, and became aware that the ascetic had dropped back a little. The rock had hit her, but she was apparently still in the slice.
There was a short straight stretch, and Del goosed the engines, rolling under the black slicer and trying to pull ahead of her. But her ship outmatched him for sheer power, and he couldn't manage it before the next turn, which was a loop like a twisted ribbon through an obstacle course of spinning ‘roids. Even the smallest miscalculation could send any of them smashing into the dead rocks.
Del didn't slow and neither did Lady Shadow, but he sensed the other two dropping back further. After the first turn, he was aware that they wouldn't catch up. It was now between him and the Lady. Belly to belly, the two of them spun, twisted, and danced through the ‘roids with almost perfect synchronicity, as if they'd been practicing this course together for days. As if they were one creature, one mind.
Del felt exaltation running through his body in a liquid sparkling stream, making every part of him tingle with wild abandon, but he ignored it as best he could. Now was not the time to get distracted, even by such an exquisite flight. The finish line was drawing near, and he hadn't won yet.
One more loop to go and a small straight stretch—he hoped not long enough for her more powerful ship to really growl—and then it would be over. He had a chance in the final turn around the last great ‘roid. If he could cut on the inside between her and the rock, he might just get the edge he needed to come out in front.
The decision was made before he'd gone through the process of thinking about it, and as they came into the spin around the ‘roid, he slid between her and it with steely determination. There wasn't enough room; he would be lucky not to scrape the hell out of the ship's skin. Or if there was an unexpected outcropping of rock on the asteroid, he could wind up smashing himself on it.
But suddenly, there was more than enough room. The why didn't register until after they'd cleared the ‘roid and he was out in front of her, his slicer screaming for the finish. She was right on his tail and steadily gaining, but he knew he'd win.
She'd moved over. She'd given him the room and opportunity to gain on her. He crossed the finish knowing that she'd lost to him on purpose. Why?
Together they moved back towards the docking bay and his winnings, but he didn't bother contacting her to ask that question. He wanted to see her face when he did. They swung into the hangar, and Del could see the crowd going wild. This must be the high point of their groupie lives, he thought with a large amount of cynicism. The underdog takes out the unbeatable Queen of Shadows. The ones who'd bet on him were now rolling in credit. And none had seen; none of them knew.
She'd lost on purpose.
Settling his slicer onto a landing pad, he shook his head in confusion. Why would she do that? As he opened the slicer and levered himself out, he could hear a hush descend on the crowd, and he glanced up to see her sliding out of her own ship with breathtaking grace.
Wasting no time, he stepped up to her and asked, “Why?"
She lifted her eyebrows slightly and gave him a slow, mocking smile. Then she turned away and headed towards her brother and Hector. Over her shoulder she said, “Great slice.” And that was all.
The crowd took that as a good sign and became rowdy again, a roaring many-headed animal that converged on him as he tried to follow her. He dragged his way through the congratulations and the well wishes, some of which were crudely intimate. He had hands touching him in places that usually got him in trouble in public, and he struggled with them until he heard the Lady call to Hector. He shouldn't have been able to hear her, but it seemed the crow
d was still her animal. It quieted immediately.
"Come congratulate the winner,” she told the little man as she and her brother made a path back to him.
That mocking smile was still on her face, and he saw that her brother wore the same one. They stopped in front of him as a bubble of space formed between them and the crowd. Hector stepped into this clearing hesitantly, but his beady eyes shown with what could have been love for Del.
"Thank you for an exciting slice, pilot,” the woman said with careful formality, and her brother stepped forward, hand outstretched. Between the tips of his first two fingers he held a credit chip, the receipt of the transfer.
"Your reward,” the man murmured in a deep voice, green eyes sparkling with amusement.
Del took it warily, looking between them for the catch. There had to be one. The man also handed him the creditor so he could confirm the transfer. His account was now a very nice number with lots of zeros. It spelled freedom, and he stared at it for an incredulous moment.
"And now for my reward,” the woman said with a mischievous smile that made an enticing dimple appear next to her mouth.
Confused, Del watched her glide towards him, a vague sense of alarm tightening his skin at the look in her eyes. But she still managed to catch him completely off guard when she slid the cool fingers of one hand around the back of his neck, placing the other on his ribcage, as she leaned up and kissed him. The crowd loved it, roaring its approval, but he stopped hearing them after the first instant of contact.
Barely aware of what he was doing, he dropped the creditor and closed his hands on her small waist, his entire focus on her mouth and what it was doing to him. Her lips were as soft and luscious as they looked, and they moved with his in a playful glide that threw every system in his body into the red. He tasted her with the tip of his tongue and was instantly starving for more. She was indescribably sweet, and he slipped his hands down to her hips to shift her closer as he deepened the kiss, tasting her again with a low groan of hunger. Her own tongue teased his for a heart-stopping moment before she pulled back a little, stretching up to whisper in his ear with small, tantalizing puffs of air that made him grind his teeth.
Sunscapes Trilogy Book 1: Last Chance Page 2
