An Unexpected Debt

by S. J. Pajonas

  Blood leaves my head and sinks to my feet. Who did he talk to? Oh my God, this has been going on for years, and I had no idea.

  “That didn’t sit right with me. If you were that good at flight school, you would be great at running your family business. I researched all your school records and test scores, and I immediately regretted it. If you were so smart, why didn’t your family know? I figured you must have cheated your way to those scores, and I hated you for it. I never had to cheat to win. But then you started going to my love hotels, and I saw how sad and vulnerable you were, and —”

  “Stop!” I yell at him. “Stop!” The sound echoes off the hallway, and my throat rips in two. I cough and wipe the tears from my face. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

  He pulls his lips together in a fierce line.

  “How…?” I start, but I don’t even know what question to ask.

  How could he do this? How could he ruin my life and not care? How did this happen to me?

  “All bets are off,” I say instead, swiping my hand through the air. “And I’m not playing another hand with you.” I stab my finger at the ground. “I am done.”

  Turning on my heel, I run past Saif.

  “I’m sorry! I was wrong!” Takemo calls out behind me.

  I keep my head low through the lobby and up the stairs. Saif follows me to my room, though I don’t look back or acknowledge him even once. I’m ready to push him away, tell him to save himself and leave me be, when he wraps his arms around me.

  “Just cry, Sky. Let it out.” He rocks me from side to side. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  I cry into his chest until there’s nothing left.

  28

  “So, you’ve quit the tournament?” India Dellis’s eyebrows pull together, and she leans back. “But you beat Richard and me today. Thoroughly.”

  She sips on her martini, and I try to nurse my glass of wine. I already feel like crap from crying most of this afternoon, and I don’t want to make it worse. Crying is not very Skylar-like, and I’m not used to this drain of emotions, this slog through life after having bawled my eyes out. I should be in bed, but India’s invitation left no wiggle room. I took a hot shower and put ice packs on my eyes to stop the swelling. At least tomorrow, I can return to the Amagi and sleep in my own bed.

  “Sorry about that,” I say, wincing. “Play to win, though. Am I right?” I shrug.

  “Of course, you’re right. That’s the way it should be,” India responds before draining a third of her martini.

  “Then why did my partner lose hands he shouldn’t have? That’s the eternal question.” I raise my glass in a mock toast, and India’s frown returns.

  “You’re telling me Takemo lost hands on purpose?” Her eyes are wide, and her mouth drops open.

  “There’s no other explanation,” I say, taking a sip of wine. “I played based on our mutual understandings, and he played in some other fantasy land. I’m not sure why except maybe to humiliate me.”

  “Do you think that’s a real possibility?” she asks.

  I nod and push my lips out. “He thinks I’m some dumb bitch who can’t take care of herself or her family business. I doubt we’ll be working together ever again.”

  “Ah, about that,” she says, setting her martini glass down on the table.

  Uh oh. My skin prickles with a premonition.

  India smiles and sweeps her hands out. “Skylar, you know who my sister is.”

  I nod and try to swallow through the lump in my throat. Her sister is Renata Dellis, CEO of Athens Industries, the largest corporation in the Duo Systems. India runs a smaller corporation too, Patras Agriculture, the company that originally invested in the jump rings that get us from one system to another, but now it’s a farming conglomerate.

  “So it won’t come as a surprise to you that I know a lot about you,” she continues.

  Breathe, Skylar. Breathe.

  “I know you’re not some dumb bitch. You’re whip-smart, cunning, and resourceful.”

  I blink a few times, surprised she has this opinion of me.

  She waves her hand. “I don’t listen to rumors. Rumors are a sign of jealousy, and that means I need to do my own investigative work. More people should do the same.” She shrugs. “It’s a shame your mother made the decisions she did based on false information. A real shame.”

  “Thanks,” I whisper.

  “So, let’s get straight to it. Vivian sent in your DNA sample the other day. You don’t get sick when you ingest any of the Rio plants.”

  I shake my head. “I’ve only taken two now, but no. Not sick either time.”

  “Any side effects at all?” she asks. I shake my head. India’s smile widens. “I’d like to offer you a job.”

  Oh shit. Here we go. I grab my bag and prepare to get to my feet when she holds out her hands.

  “Don’t go anywhere until I’m done talking. Please,” she begs. It’s not every day a Dellis begs, so I sigh and plop my butt back in my seat. I push the wine away and drink from the glass of water instead. I should be sober for this.

  “You know what we’re doing on Rio. You’ve seen Vivian’s plants.”

  “Yes, I have.” I nod and cross my arms over my chest.

  Athens Industries is in a race against the military to find the most profitable plants from Rio, ones they can use to grow a whole new world. Athens wants to start a galactic empire, and I suppose I don’t blame them. After the military nearly wiped us all out, people like India and Renata Dellis decided our future was too precious to leave it to the military elite anymore.

  But the Rio plants make most people sick. They may experience amazing things like prescient dreams or telekinesis or shape-shifting or enhanced memories or even teleportation, but they become sick from ingesting them. And then there are the pairs. Everything on Rio comes in pairs, animals and plants together. Through Vivian’s investigative work, we also know humans have Rio plant pairs too. You’re less likely to be sick if you ingest your own plant, the one you’re paired with. Vivian and Ken were both lucky to find their pairs, and they don’t get sick. Instead, they feel drugged and drained after. I haven’t found my pair. Even if I were looking for it, it would be like finding a grain of sand on a beach. Next to impossible.

  But I have never felt sick with any plant.

  “I think you must suspect you’re special somehow,” India continues. “You could be very valuable to our mission if you’ll work with us.”

  Considering the financial state I’m currently in, this whole speech intrigues me. “Go on,” I prompt her.

  “We have some expeditions running here on Rio. Full teams are down there in the jungles right now, trekking and testing, but it’s an arduous process. First, we have to sneak past the blockades. And then all of our first testers become so sick eventually that they end up in the hospital. We have to cycle people in and out constantly, which is next to impossible with the military throwing up roadblocks at every entry point. So, I need a plant guide to test the favorable candidates. Someone I can count on to keep going without getting sick.”

  “You need to be faster than the military,” I point out.

  “Yes. Much faster.” She turns her smile back on. “I can make it worth your while.”

  I sit back and drum my fingers on the table. Out a nearby window, the sunny morning has turned into a cloudy and rainy early evening. Typical Rio weather. Hot and muggy, cloudy and rainy. Do I want to spend my days in the jungles of Rio, fearing for my life? There’s nothing sedate about Rio’s jungles. Pretty much everything in them can kill you. I’m a pilot, not an explorer.

  I turn back to India. “Tell me about your deal with Takemo Diaz. I saw you leaving his office.”

  “You did. I didn’t think you recognized me.”

  “I didn’t right then, but…” I shrug. “You’re a hard one to forget.”

  “Better believe it,” she drawls, lifting an eyebrow. We both chuckle. I kind of like her. She’s just a li
ttle bit evil, like me. “Diaz Waste Management is looking to expand. They want to do heavy cargo hauling. It’s one of Takemo’s grand ideas.” She rolls her eyes. “I won’t pretend it’s not a good idea because it is. Waste management and trash hauling are long-term losers as we work towards recycling everything we make or consume. It’s good to diversify.”

  I don’t tell her Takemo is diversified, what with his other companies. She probably already knows.

  “So we’ve contracted him to ship some of our specialty machines from Avenal to Rio. We have…” She pauses and waves her hand in the air. “You know, things like tanks, diggers, loggers. Heavy machinery for dealing with a jungle.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “You’re not going to strip the jungle dry, are you?”

  She laughs, throwing her head back.

  “Because I may look like one of those carefree and vapid airheads,” I continue, “but I do not want to be involved in the death of an ecosystem.”

  “Nothing like that,” she says, holding up her hand. “I assure you. This planet will never be tamed. The machinery is so people don’t die.” She clears her throat. “We’ve had enough of that already.”

  “How many?” I ask, my blood running cold.

  She sighs. “We’ve lost over four hundred people now, in two years. Between jungle accidents and attacks and skirmishes with the military and reactions to the plants.”

  I close my eyes. That’s a lot of death and many ways to die. Too many.

  “I don’t know,” I say, shaking my head. “I do have a bit of a death wish, seeing as my life is upside down and nothing has worked out for me. But this? This is far from my destiny, Ms. Dellis. I’m supposed to be flying, not trekking through the jungle.”

  She looks me dead in the eye. “This is your destiny, Skylar. You’re supposed to be there.”

  The moment freezes, and my breath holds still in my chest.

  No. It can’t be. How is she so sure?

  “Call me India… or Indie. I don’t care. Just don’t say no.”

  I press my lips together. She leans forward.

  “I’ll pay you two million credits upfront. Then two hundred thousand credits per month as long as you live. You can quit whenever after you fulfill a three-month contract.”

  I blow out my held breath. “Are you fucking with me?”

  “No. But I have one condition.” She raises a finger. “You finish the Bridge tournament. Show Takemo Diaz that you are not some simpering idiot. Because you’ll be working together, and I want him to respect you and listen to you.”

  Ugh. I was hoping to leave Takemo behind after this tournament.

  “I want him to fear me,” I mumble, reaching for my water.

  “That too,” she says with a chuckle.

  My prescient dream showed me a final hand with a woman I haven’t seen yet in the tournament. I could walk away now and never have that memory come true.

  But I don’t think time works that way. Time slips forward and backward, in and out. It’s not something I control. It controls me.

  I stick my hand out. “Deal.”

  We shake on it, and I raise my wine glass, finally able to drink.

  “India,” I say and sip.

  “Skylar,” she drawls in return.

  Then we laugh.

  29

  I approach Takemo in the hotel restaurant just as he’s finishing his breakfast.

  Deep breath, Skylar. So, he saw me screwing sexbots. No big deal, right? Yes, no big deal. I can only hope he saw all the times I was smoking hot and enjoying it, but never the times I cried and wished for something different from my life.

  No. I need to put it out of my head.

  “Morning, Takemo,” I say, keeping my voice even and my chin up. I’m relieved to see his face is fine. He probably iced his cheek right after, much like I was icing my eyes last night. I woke up this morning, and they were only a little puffy.

  He wipes his mouth quickly and sets the napkin down.

  “Uh, hi. What are you doing here?” He looks left and right, nervous that I’m about to try something.

  “Have you withdrawn us from the competition yet?” I ask.

  “No. I was going to do it this morning before the first match.”

  “Then don’t. We’ll continue to play.”

  “Really?” he asks, his eyes lifted and bright. A small smile forms. “You’re giving me a second chance?”

  “I am giving you your only chance.” I sit down across from him. “That means you play like you mean it, and you stop insulting me or belittling me or making me feel worthless. I’ve had enough of that.”

  His head falls. “I’m sorry. You’re not worthless.”

  “No,” I say, driving my finger down into the table and making him jump. “I am worth something more than a stand-in school teacher and a babysitter and a person to be abused. I will not let people devalue me anymore. Are you ready to play?”

  “Do you need to eat?” he asks, pushing his plate to the side.

  My simmering anger cools a few degrees. “No. I ate with Saif in the room before I came down here.”

  “Okay,” he says, standing up. I join him. “Then we play.”

  Marcelo and Saif are having a cup of coffee together in the lounge as we pass through the lobby. I wave to them.

  “Go get ‘em, tiger!” Saif calls out, and I huff a laugh in return.

  Marcelo tips his head in greeting.

  I’ve got this. Today is the last day, and it’s now or never to prove to Takemo that I can handle things and he can trust me. The real question is, can I trust him? I’m not sure. I don’t know why he tried to throw our game off yesterday. Was it just his bad mood, or was something else at play?

  Still, I told him he gets a second chance, so that’s what I’m going to do.

  The first two hours are brutal. I have to get my head back into the game and remember everything Takemo and I agreed upon. Last night, I didn’t think I’d be here. Now, I’m playing to win.

  We finish a round against a tough opponent, and when I check on our match points situation, we’re at the top, but not by much. We have to win our next match, or we’ll be toast. Still, I breathe a sigh of relief as Takemo and I cross the ballroom to the snacks table to fuel up before our final hands. My neck is sore, and my shoulders are so tight I’m not sure they’ll ever relax again. I groan and roll my shoulders up, back, down, and around, over and over.

  “This is it. You played really well today,” he says, handing me a bottle of water. “You like the peanut bars, right?” He scans through the offerings on the table.

  “Yeah. Thanks.” I take the proffered bar and unwrap it slowly. “You know so much about me,” I say, dropping my voice, “and I only know a little about you. That seems entirely unfair to me.” We leave the table to stand along the side wall of the conference room.

  He twists his lips. “Well, it’s not fair how I came to all this information in the first place.” He sighs and closes his eyes. “Here’s something to know about me. I make a lot of mistakes. I trust the wrong people. I’m trying to be better. I swear my heart is in the right place.”

  “Me too.” I chew on my bar as I stare out across the ballroom. Marcelo and Saif are kibitzing on a game at the far end of the room. They’re talking low to each other behind their hands. And when the game ends, the heightened sounds of murmuring rise along with the players at the table.

  It’s her.

  My stomach bottoms out. She’s even more gorgeous in person from far away. I watch in horror as she greets Saif and leans in to kiss him on each cheek. Her silky dark hair swishes around her shoulders, and she’s wearing black, just like I saw in my dream.

  I tug on Takemo’s sleeve. “Who is that?” I ask, jerking my chin in her direction. She looks over her shoulder at us in time for Takemo’s eyebrows to climb.

  “Well, shit. I knew she was here, but I didn’t expect her to last long.” Takemo dusts off his hands. “She never stays for a who
le tournament anymore. Too ‘busy,’” he says, putting air quotes around the word.

  I raise my eyebrows at him.

  “Sorry,” he says again. “That’s Nadine Perez. You probably recognize her from the gossip sites. Star of stage and screen.” He draws his hand across the space in front of us, mocking a marquee. “Saif and I went to school with her. She was in Sejal’s year.”

  Nadine is crossing the room now, on a beeline directly for me. What do I say to her? Hello, it’s nice to meet you? Stay away from my man, you bitch? Is Saif ‘my man?’ What does that even mean?

  Before I can decide, she’s right in front of me.

  “This must be Skylar.” She holds out her hands to me, and I stare at them. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

  Behind her, Saif is shaking his head and slicing his hand across his neck. I’m not sure what that means. He doesn’t want me to talk?

  Nadine sweeps her hands up to her chest when I don’t respond to her. “She’s so quiet. I didn’t expect that at all.”

  “Hello. I… I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are,” I say in response. Saif closes his eyes and drops his head.

  “Oh, really?” She turns around, and Saif perks up like he’s woken from a deep sleep. I have a hard time hiding my smile. “Saif, how could you?”

  “We were catching up, Nadine. I’m sure you can understand.”

  “Well,” she says, huffing and drawing herself up, “I guess this means Sejal and I will have to take her and do all the dirty work.”

  Saif slips in next to me and places his arm around my shoulder. Takemo takes a step away.

  “Not before she wins this tournament.” He looks down at me with pride, and I crumble a little inside. How has he already gained such a hold on my heart?

  “Wins?” Nadine asks. “If she wins, then what am I doing there near the top?” She waves to the point board display, and now I see it. Nadine P. and Justin M. are just below us on the leaderboard.