Such things weren't wholly out of place on a spaceship, but just in case they were messing with him, he waited until Gomes had peeled her top off before he started undressing. As the others finished, they went to a cubby and deposited their clothes inside. The cubbies sealed with a hiss. A second hiss announced their contents had been sucked away deeper inside the building. Naked, Gomes glanced at him, eyes trailing down his body, then gestured to the door in the far wall.
The next few minutes of his life involved navigating a labyrinth of scans. Once the machines decided he was completely unarmed of weapons and chemicals, and that his handful of mods and implants weren't housing anything aggressive, he was allowed into a room resembling the one they'd stripped down in. Here, the cubbies held white jumpsuits and slippers. The team dressed.
They exited into another reception area and were greeted by a smiling employee. "Are you ready, Ms. Gomes? Or do you need another minute to discuss matters with your people?"
"Let's go," Gomes said. "As I was just reminded, I'm not getting any younger."
The woman chuckled and pointed them down the hallway. "It will be the door on your left."
Gomes padded down the hall, stopped at the door, gave them a final look, and entered.
Inside, a man stood from a table. Three more men were behind him, backs to the wall. All were dressed in the same uniform white.
"Glad to finally meet you in person, Captain Gomes," the man at the table said. Webber couldn't place his accent. He smiled, eyes crinkling. "Perhaps one day such measures won't be necessary."
"I look forward to that, Captain Ikita." Gomes swung out a chair. "I suppose it all depends on how things go today, doesn't it?"
He smiled tightly. "I am not in the habit of attending a Cleaner in order to not make a deal."
"One-point-two, then."
"Was that our agreement?"
"On delivery of goods matching Nevedia's manifest." She scooted forward. "We've got the goods on site. The Cleaners have already inspected them to confirm."
"So I was told." Ikita tapped the tips of his thumbs together. "Since reaching our agreement, however, my buyer on Jupiter has decided that perhaps these meds are not worth as much as he first proposed."
"That sounds like your problem."
"It is a problem for us both. If my profit on the items is so minimal, it is hardly worth the bother to purchase them from you. You see?"
"Why don't we quit with the bread and get to the butter?"
He narrowed one eye. "An even million."
Gomes let out a long sigh, stood, and turned to the others. "Let's go."
Ikita rose halfway from his chair. "Captain, walking out is no way to reach a deal."
She snorted. "Neither is trying to job me down to a mil."
"And how much of that is raw profit? Half? I have run ships like yours, Captain Gomes, and I know the costs. Your expenses are the lowest in the chain."
"Mine aren't as low as you think. I had to take on unanticipated crew."
He lowered himself to his seat. "Crew is a drop in the bucket."
"Not this crew. They each pull a percentage."
"A percentage?" Ikita spread his arms, planted his palms on the table, and leaned forward. "Why would you pay them a percentage?"
"Does that contravene some unwritten Law of the Inky Void?"
"The only law against it is common sense. Why pay points when you can walk into any bar on this rock, announce you're paying 3K for a cruise, and walk out with a full team?"
"Because I don't want crewmen worth 3K." She stared into his eyes. "I want people worth a percentage."
He leaned back, tucking down the corners of his mouth. "As they say, your business, your party. Then again, offering a percentage was your decision. I do not see why that should compel me to pay more than I am comfortable. Otherwise, I am squeezed on both ends, you see?"
"Oh, quit whining," Webber blurted.
Every eye in the room turned his way. Ikita's eyebrows drew together. He chuckled, confused. "I am sorry, but did you say whining? In the manner of a dog?"
"No." His face burned. "Could be a little kid."
From the back wall, the three men in white jumpsuits pushed forward, moving to sweep around the table. MacAdams and Taz stepped to either side of Webber. MacAdams looked amused; Taz looked pissed. Gomes stood up fast enough that her chair squeaked.
Ikita held up a hand. His jaw was tight, but his anger had receded from his eyes—for the moment.
He turned on Webber. "For a man like you to say such a thing to a man like me, there must be a great truth shouting from your heart. Insisting you speak no matter how great the risk. Am I correct?"
"I sure hope so," Webber said.
The man laughed. "Then speak."
"It's just like you said: a matter of risk. In this equation, we're the only ones absorbing any of it. If someone gets hurt in the attack, it's us. Afterward, if Nevedia comes after someone, it's us. We're on the hook coming and going. But you? All you have to do is load some shit on a ship and fly it off to meet your buyer."
"You make it sound very simple."
"I'm sure there's a world of shit I'm not privy to," Webber said. "No pun intended. But I'm also sure those meds are worth cash money. Otherwise, we wouldn't have had to put our lives out there to get them."
"You are correct," Ikita said. "There is a world of shit of which you know nothing. Not only that, but you are disrespectful."
"It'll probably get me killed some day. I can only hope it isn't right now."
Cracks manifested in the man's stony expression. "It helps that you have raised a fair point. Doubly so because, in doing so, you expose yourself to yet more risk. Such an act demands respect."
Webber's heart began to slow. "When you're born with nothing, eating risk is the only way to get somewhere in life, right?"
Ikita inclined his head, sat, and shifted his gaze to Gomes. "If I have not misidentified the captain here, where do you stand, madame?"
"Though my bosun is shipping for a whipping, I believe he has a point." Gomes folded her arms on the table. "And I am sure that someone will be willing to pay you full price for those meds. If they won't, people start dying. It's Jupiter."
Ikita's mouth showed signs of a smirk. "Why do I get the impression I am about to be told to fuck myself?"
"Because you're canny. A fellow worth knowing. Or I wouldn't be here." Gomes lifted her brows. "And that is why, despite feeling insulted that you're trying to dicker me down on a price we'd already agreed to, I will accept 1.15."
He tapped his lower lip. "Perhaps you are worth knowing, too. I accept." He glanced at Webber. "Your first drink tonight, make it a toast to me, yes?"
Webber saluted. "No doubt."
~
Outside, back in his own clothes and shoes, he waited with MacAdams and Taz while Gomes made calls to finalize the transfer of the meds. Taz produced a straight, finger-sized pipe and inhaled green clouds of sweet-smelling vapor. She prowled the front of the plain white building, glaring down any pedestrian who came too near.
Whatever was eating her, MacAdams didn't look too concerned. He stood beside Webber, arms folded. "Who are you?"
"Mazzy Webber. Maintenance and custodial. What do you mean?"
"I know. Webber, the simple janitor. Who is suddenly unionizing his pirate crew and then busting the balls of one of the nastiest gangsters on the Locker."
Webber craned his head toward the building. "Who, Ikita? He looked like somebody's tailor."
"A tailor who's got more bodies under him than the Tri-Bay Bridge."
"If he's so big and bad, what's he doing negotiating with nobodies like us?"
MacAdams shrugged the hillocks that were his shoulders. "Maybe he sees an opportunity to add Gomes to his roster. Maybe he's tight on cash and needs a quick play. All I know is he was there in that room with us."
Webber considered this. "Gomes didn't seem too concerned about him being apt to take me down."
<
br /> "Maybe she just doesn't care about you." He chuckled, frowning. "Or maybe she wanted to see how well you handled yourself. And that's what I'm asking: where'd you come from?"
"Like I said, the supply closet. Everyone has to start somewhere."
"Whatever you say."
"Hey, as long as we're clearing up mysteries, why were you trying to pulverize that little guy on Beagle?"
"Oh, the night we first met?" MacAdams laughed. "Wasn't nothing. The runt cheated us at cards."
"In that case, I'm sorry I helped him out."
"Water under the bridge. Listen, tonight we're meeting at the Hook and Claw. Hashing out the next hit."
Webber glanced up. "Another one? We just finished up the last one."
"Then what better time to start planning the next?" MacAdams clapped him on the shoulder, knocking him forward. "Eight o'clock. See you there."
He shoved off, gathering Taz in his wake. Aromatic vapor spiraled behind her. Webber tipped back his head to take in the buildings, the artificial sky just three hundred feet above him. He was wheeling and dealing under the roof of one of the freest places in the system. He was about to get more cash dumped in his account than he'd made in the last year. Maybe there was more to life than he'd let himself believe.
"You angling for a promotion?" Gomes walked up on him, stowing her device in her pocket. "Or a keelhauling?"
He shook his head. "MacAdams just clued me in. Had no idea Ikita was such a big knife."
"You're lucky I'm high on a million bucks. Otherwise I'd boot you out on your ass."
"Sometimes ignorance is the best advantage you've got, right? If I'd been smart enough to know better, we walk out of there with less."
She squinted at him. "Or we walk out into a mess of heavily armed gangsters. Or we walk out with the exact same 1.15, because this is my show and I'm not about to roll over."
Webber bobbed his head. "I got you."
"Do you? You're an asset I hadn't counted on, but you're proving to be an even bigger liability. Quit barging in on my scene. Watch and learn. Know your place. You got input? I'm all ears. But you provide that input in the appropriate ways at the appropriate time. Otherwise? You think you know better? Go get your own damn ship."
"I'm sorry, Captain. This is all new to me. From now on, I'll be more mindful of the chain of command."
"So you do know the concept. Next time it happens, you're back on mop duty. Got it?"
"Got it," he said. "But he was whining."
Gomes laughed, shaking her head. "Get out of here before I come to my senses."
He ducked his head and walked off. Away from the park, the air had the stale, recycled smell of all closed environments, but at that moment, it tasted like it had been pumped in fresh from Fiji.
He had a few hours until the meet at the Hook and Claw, so he figured he'd do some exploring, get a feel for the place. Captured moon it might be, but it was also tiny, small enough to handle artificial gravity. He figured he could see a decent slice of it before his appointment.
He stopped at a stall for a packet of fried starch. Feeling rich, he splurged on a bowl of curry made from local fruit. He took his meal down a side street and sat on a vacant stoop. The curry tasted like strawberries and half-cooked bread.
"New in town?" A man stood over him, dressed in a long, thin coat and a short-brimmed hat.
"This your apartment?" Webber stood, crumpling the wrappers of his meal. "Was just looking for a place to sit while I ate."
"More of a rhetorical question. I know exactly who you are, Webber." The man pulled his hand halfway from his pocket, revealing the dull black of a pistol. "Care to come with me?"
9
As it turned out, the ex-girlfriend hadn't moved since the breakup. She lived in Neucali, an old Martian warren near the water supply of the northern icecap. At the moment, Mars was on the opposite side of the sun from Earth. About as long as Inner trips got. After Simm confirmed the autopilot's course, there wasn't much to do besides catch up on correspondence and rake over what they'd gathered to date. She Needled Toman about their progress and to request he reach out to Iggi Daniels. Simm, as usual, occupied himself with the net, gathering up all traces of Peregrine Lawson and compiling them into one master file.
Toman replied within an hour, a prerecorded video. He congratulated her on cracking the first part of Jain Kayle's message and let her know he'd drop a line to Iggi, but didn't expect his rival to start spilling secrets.
Simm's automated search software hadn't turned up anything interesting in the Pip File, but with nothing better to do, Rada searched it by hand, combing through years-old message board posts about video games and genealogy. She didn't have any more luck than Simm's bots, but she came away with a better sense of the dead man: pleasant, though occasionally acerbic, and wishful for something more.
Halfway to Mars, coasting at cruising speed, Simm said he was picking up engine signals on the long-distance scanners. They kept their eyes sharp, but nothing came of it.
Around the time they began to brake, a video came in from Iggi Daniels. She wasn't much older than Toman. Like him, she had no interest in a traditional appearance. Blue hair done up in a wing. Dark eyeliner. A single point of light traced the black lines, making it appear as if each eye were being orbited by a tiny, glimmering comet. Rada thought it must be very nice to be so wealthy and successful that anyone who judged you would be accused of being jealous.
Iggi's message was prerecorded, too. "Hey all. What with the whole rivals thing, I can't get too deep in the guttyworks. Besides, we're all over this too. I can tell you this much: Jain's recent assignment involved a long, hard look at what's outside the Outer. Well-trodden ground, I know. But sometimes, the only way to break a case is to confront it with a fresh set of eyes."
She smiled into the camera and lifted her brows. "Dunno if that's enough to help, but I hope it does. She was a big part of the team. Appreciate the interest. Iggi out."
The message ended. Rada unbuckled and floated to the galley. "That doesn't do much. Besides reinforce our assumptions."
"Yeah," Simm said. "Nice of her to get back to us, though."
A day later, Mars grew on the screen, a dirty orange ball. The Tine was capable of atmospheric flight, but it was cheaper to dock in orbit and take a shuttle down to the surface. To stay on Toman's good side, Rada made the arrangements. A few hours later, the shuttle landed at Neucali Station. Outside the dome, wind whisked the powdery dust into scouring whirlwinds.
They descended to the warren. The tunnels were cramped and smelled like earth and fungus. Rada rented an electric two-seater, called ahead to Xixi the ex-girlfriend, and pedaled down the hallways. Things were very quiet except when she flashed by an intersection opening to a public cavern; then, voices and laughter rang loud.
Xixi lived in a hole a few bends of the tunnel from one of these caverns. She made Rada and Simm ID themselves to her door scanner before allowing them inside.
She wasn't as old as Rada had expected. 27, 28. The neutral resignation in her face looked much older. She offered them a seat on the dusty-smelling couch.
"So," Rada said.
Xixi stared. "Ask what you came to ask. It's been years. I'm not a flower. Down here, we endure."
"We're trying to decipher something Peregrine's mother said before her accident. It could be very important."
"Or it could be nonsense," Simm said.
Rada scowled. "Either way, it would be nice to understand her final recorded words. If only to know that there is no understanding them."
The woman closed her eyes. "Talk or don't. It's all the same."
Rada repeated Jain Kayle's message about the rabbit, then lowered her gaze to the plain stone floor. "Ring any bells?"
"No. You couldn't have asked me through the net?"
"Please, just take a minute to think about it. He lived in the warrens with you. Some Earthers call you guys rabbits. Does this bring back anything at all?"
"Let me think." Xixi nodded, gazing at nothing. Ten seconds drabbled by. Finally, she shook her head. "Down here, you get a lot of talk about rabbits. But I don't remember anything related to that phrase."
Rada sighed. "I see."
Simm tapped his knee. "Did you call him Pip, too?"
"Sure," Xixi said. "He hated his real name."
Rada glanced at Simm. "What does this tell us?"
"Nothing, probably." He folded his hands. "Curious if the message could have originated with anyone else."
Xixi shrugged. "I got friends who knew him. You might check with them."
"That would be great," Rada said. "Before we go, could you tell us about him? Anything could help."
"He wasn't the kind of guy who would knock you out of orbit. You had to spend some time with him before you started to see what was special. He was sturdy. Loyal. Hard-working. Every extra bit he made, he sent it off to care for his sister. For Dinah."
"Sounds like a sweet guy."
Xixi laughed wryly. "Sure. If you were his sister."
Rada glanced at Simm. "Did you think he was…too generous?"
"She's sick. Needs help. I get it. But I wanted a family too, you know? And I couldn't bring myself to start one until we'd paid off this hole. At least enough to know we wouldn't starve."
"Was that what broke you up?" Simm said.
Rada gaped. "Simm!"
Xixi waved a hand. "It's a fair question. There was more to it. He got angry sometimes. So did I. Dinah wasn't the only reason we split. But it sure didn't help."
"Well," Simm said. "I'm sorry."
"Maybe it's for the best. Thanks to her, we learned we weren't right for each other before we made the mistake of dragging kids into the mix." The woman shook her head. "You ask me, the rabbit business is probably something Jain and Pip joked about when he was little. Once he got older, they weren't on good terms. Her last message was probably a reminder to herself that it wasn't always like that."
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