CHAPTER 50
We’re deep in strategy sessions of
phase two.
So far, the best idea
is to steal a shuttle that’s strong enough to handle straight
space, turn on the distress signal, and wait for rescue. I don’t
like the uncertainty, however. There’s no telling who might pick us
up.
At least this Jewel
has a vested interest in my survival, since he wants to use me.
Then again, there’s no telling what he might do when he discovers
we’ve been picking off his guys. We need to get out of here, one
way or another.
Still, I can’t regret
leaving Lachion with them. The arrival of another Conglomerate ship
might’ve had disastrous consequences for Gunnar-Dahlgren. Their
battle is going to be hard enough.
“I have studied their
security in some detail,” Vel says. “And the only vessel we can
access is the mini scheduled for repair. Using Constance’s
clearance codes, I assigned some tech droids to begin work
immediately. Since it was not scheduled for maintenance until next
week, they should not consider it a flight risk.”
“How long before it’s
operational?” Dina asks.
“Eight hours total,”
the bounty hunter answers. “Seven hours remaining. I could not
divert the entire fleet without arousing some suspicion. If this
place were not almost entirely automated, questions would have
arisen already.”
“A point in our
favor,” Jael notes. “And since the place is so big, they’re
probably still looking for the guys who went missing.”
“How many do you
think are on the grounds?” I don’t want to think about fighting our
way out of here. Syndicate or not, I’ve seen enough bloodshed to
last a lifetime. Plus Dina and I still qualify as the weakest
links.
We can’t hold our own
in a fight yet. I’m stronger than I was—and so is she—but neither
of us could take on a trained enforcer. But maybe Vel, Hit, and
Jael are strong enough to make up the difference.
“In all?” Hit
asks.
I nod.
The pilot looks
thoughtful. “For a place of this size, at least ten. Madame Kang
would have insisted on twenty, though. But she relied more on
manpower than technology. She was old-fashioned in some
ways.”
“Perhaps the extra
guards travel with the one called Mr. Jewel,” Constance suggests.
“In his absence, there is less to protect, only material goods,
which can be replaced more easily than a person of some
importance.”
Jael squinches up his
eyes at the droid, probably in remembered embarrassment. I let him
flirt with her for a good five minutes before explaining why Dina
and I were snickering.
Vel agrees. “When
their leader arrives, we will likely have more men with which to
contend.”
“All the more reason
to get our asses out of here,” Dina says flatly. “We should stay
together, and in seven hours, we make a run for the
shuttle.”
“If we have to shoot
our way out, so be it.” Jael spins a laser pistol he took off one
of the guards.
“Don’t even think
about taking that thing on board,” Hit warns him.
The merc glares at
her. “You think I’m stupid? I could dismantle that little skiff
we’re taking up with a sonicblade, let alone one of these. And I
don’t intend to experience the joy of vacuum firsthand.”
Two alphas, one small ship. This will be
fun.
“Settle down,” I say
aloud. “Jael won’t be taking any laser weapons up. He may look
young, but he’s not devoid of sense.”
To my surprise, he
slides me a layered look that ends in a half smile. By his
expression, he read something significant into my defense, but I
don’t have time to figure out what. Maybe he hasn’t been accepted
like this before, and he appreciates when I have his back; I
hope that’s all it is. Hit doesn’t know
he’s Bred, though, or she might be reluctant to work with him. I
don’t know her well enough to gauge her prejudices.
Vel says, “We should
pack up our gear and convey it to a central location.”
I suspect I won’t be
able to carry all the clothes I made in the wardrober, let alone
fit them all in my pack. That holds three or four outfits at best,
so I need to pick my favorites. When I reach Ielos, I want to make
a good impression.
I refuse to think
about alternative outcomes. We’ll do this, and I’ll be a real ambassador. I’ll do anything to make this work
with Ithiss-Tor. I’ll even stick to Tarn’s script if I have to,
because I finally understand what’s at stake.
I wish the bastard
had leveled with me before we left New Terra. Then again, maybe I
would have taken his fear as political maneuvering. Maybe I
wouldn’t have taken the threat seriously without seeing the carnage
on Emry Station.
I push to my feet.
“Come on, Constance. Let’s go make you a new outfit. You can’t wear
that to diplomatic functions.”
The droid tips her
head, studying her shiny silver halter dress. “It does look more
appropriate for one who makes a living selling sexual favors, does
it not?”
She startles a laugh
out of me although she wasn’t joking. The Lila unit does precisely
that, so she was stating a fact. Constance watches us, as if trying
to puzzle out why Jael, Dina, and Hit are laughing along with me,
but she and Vel are not.
“Yep. Let’s meet back
here in six hours. Get your stuff, take a nap, but one way or
another, we’re out of here.”
“Ideally, Tarn will
flag a ship already in the area,” Jael puts in. “Send someone to
snag us.”
“Let’s not think
about everything that could go wrong.” Hit makes herself
comfortable on Dina’s couch, so I guess she doesn’t need to pack.
Or maybe her stuff’s already here. Not my business, but I admit to
a certain amount of curiosity as to how Dina seduces every other
woman she meets.
I mean, she’s strong
rather than svelte, with broad, muscular shoulders and a thick
build. She does have gorgeous green eyes, though, and hair that
shimmers like gold silk. Maybe it’s the contrast between strength
and softness.
“Keep staring at me
like that, Jax, and I’ll think you see something you like.” She
raises her gaze to give me a smoky half smile.
Okay, even I register a small spark when she levels that look
on me. I don’t even try to play it off. I flirt back a little.
“Nice try. But I’m not having you break March’s heart by being
irresistible.”
The mechanic grins.
“It’s a curse.”
“We meet back in six
hours,” Jael cuts in. At my arched brow, he shrugs. “A guy can only
take so much.”
“That’s right,” Hit
says. “They always picture themselves in the middle of the action,
whether it has anything to do with them or not.”
Leaving them to
bicker, I head for the door. Constance falls into step beside me;
already she moves with more assurance. “Getting the hang of it?” I
ask her.
“Of what?”
“The whole
having-a-body experience.”
She considers that.
“I find it difficult to judge distances. I keep walking into walls
where I should turn.”
“We’ll work on
it.”
The halls remain
eerily empty as we make our way back to my suite. First I show
Constance how to use the wardrober, and leave her looking at
patterns. Then I make myself a snack. She looks so real that I’m
tempted to offer her something to eat.
So I ask about that.
“Can you eat? As part of your companion function?”
She pauses, tilting
her head in a way that tells me she’s accessing secondary systems.
“This casing has a receptacle for masticated foodstuff, which needs
to be emptied within twenty-four hours, or I would become
malodorous.”
Everything a rich,
lonely man needs in order to pretend he has a real woman by his
side. “Don’t worry, I won’t need you to use such social
functions.”
“I am not worried,”
she tells me. “I am here to facilitate all matters for you,
Sirantha Jax. If that should involve simulating social intercourse,
I am happy to oblige, now that I have a casing designed for such
work.”
I don’t quite know
what to say to that. Does that mean she’d let me pimp her out? Then
again, she’s still an AI, no matter how fond I may have become of
her. There’s a thin gray line between sentient and self-willed. The
wardrober hums as it produces a sober black suit. My PA has a
strict sense of business attire, I guess.
With no sense of
decorum, she immediately begins disrobing. “You may not want to do
that with anyone else in the room,” I advise.
She peers at me
through a white blouse. “It is impolite?”
“Something like
that.”
I start going through
my clothes, picking out the ones that look sophisticated enough to
pass on any world, regardless of local fashions. Lots of black,
some silvery gray, and a filmy white outfit that does nice things
for my newly tanned skin. That will have to do for now. I wonder
how March will like the new me.
Where is he now? Lost
in the war he shouldn’t have chosen? Does he ever think of me? And
will I recognize him if he comes back to me?
I touch the gaudy
ring he gave me as a promise, now suspended around my throat on a
thin golden chain. That contact doesn’t give me any sense of him,
not a magical talisman, or a link to what we’ve lost.
He might be dead. For a moment, the need to have
March by my side overwhelms me. The longing steals my breath,
nearly bends me double.
“Keep an eye on
things,” I tell Constance. “I’m going to get some sleep.”
It’s that or weep,
and I need to keep it together. I sprawl on the bed.
The next thing I
know, my comm beeps red with an incoming message. I have no way of
gauging how long I’ve been out. “Accept,” I call to the
terminal.
Then a disembodied
voice—no accompanying image— says, “Jewel will see you
now.”
