Heart of the Spider's Web Page 5
Hicks’s voice came through the comm, distorted and tinny. “You’ve landed safely?”
“I’d hardly be able to call if the opposite was true.” He smirked. “Now to see if she can get us in the door with the Night Market.” If the dockrat was able to succeed where he and the crew had continually failed, he’d give her his share.
The pilot made a noncommittal noise, followed by a burst of static he recognized as her shuffling the deck too close to the microphone. “Sorry,” she said, though her tone indicated Hicks was anything but. Rayan heard the scrape of her flipping over a card, followed by the pilot’s pronouncement. “Two of Spheres. Gravity. Two bodies pulled together.”
That flashed an altogether different image of Sheri in his mind, and he fought to keep it out. “Bullshit, Hicks.”
“I just read the cards, Barr. You and the others interpret. Maybe it’s about bringing the crew and the Market together at last...” Her grin was audible even through the launch’s lousy speakers.
“You know damn well what you meant. And you know the deck well enough to announce whatever card you wanted, just to wind me up.”
“From the sound of things, you’re plenty twisted up already. Captain says back in thirty hours with an update.” Hicks dropped the connection before Barr could respond.
He finished shutting the comms off and turned to find Sheri leaning against the hatch back to the cargo area. She’d donned a pair of insulated coveralls and tugged a knit cap down over her shaggy brown undercut. Her grin had all the faux innocence of a feral cat’s. “Updates about what?”
“The Night Market, obviously.”
“So not the Two of Spheres thing. Because that sounded heavy. Two bodies coming together.” Her smile broke, showing a flash of teeth as she laughed. She pantomimed a series of lewd hip thrusts that fired off a cascade of fantastically dirty thoughts, followed by one extremely scary one.
She’d been standing behind him for more than a few seconds, and he hadn’t heard her. That was how people ended up dead. He was not the person who got snuck up on.
He clearly needed to stop letting his defenses down around her. “Hicks has used those damn divination cards as long as I’ve known her. They’re somewhere between an amusement and a tiebreaker for the crew.”
Sheri blinked as if she’d just understood a complex equation. “Right! The ship name. Sentinel of Gems. That should have been obvious.”
“New opportunities. Business and Profit are awakened.” Rayan had heard the card’s meaning more times than he could remember. It was as easy to recall as the layout of his cabin.
“An auspicious choice, then.” She pulled a parka out of the closet, checked the size, and slid it on. “Is that all you’re wearing? Hodur’s cold.”
That was an understatement, from his own memories of the moon. Its orbit around Accipiter was tide-locked, and the majority of the world’s natural light was reflected from the gas giant above them. The main city, Penumbra, made the best of the minimal, orange-tinted light, but very little heat accompanied it. Still, his parka was insulated. It would do.
He scattered half the orchids around the cockpit and tapped the heat up another few degrees on the helmsman’s panel. Darcy scampered over to the closest flower and began snacking.
Rayan headed for the hatch, driving her in front of him. “We should go, Dockrat. While he’s distracted.”
She walked backward, smiling. “Did you just bribe a lizard to watch the ship?”
“Trust me, he’s an entirely unexpected, extremely effective guard.” Barr tapped his access code onto the panel for the external doors. “Most people don’t like to wrestle with him, oddly enough.”
“I remember.” She tucked two vials of Spectrivax into her pocket, and he scowled at her. Her indifferent shrug failed to disarm his anger. “Look, we have to be ready to show our goods if we want to be taken seriously.”
She moved to stand by the door, and Rayan looked over his shoulder to make sure Darcy wasn’t waiting to rush past them. The lizard loved a good escape almost as much as orchids. Convinced that the goanna was suitably distracted, he keyed the final character and the external hatch opened. “One of these days, you’re going to have to tell me the story of how a dockworker knows so much about a black market on the far edge of the Three Systems.”
SHERI FROZE, GLAD THAT her face was already turned away when Barr pointed out the hole in her story. A stupid mistake. A rookie mistake, and all because she’d gotten too wrapped up in banter to remember that the dockrat she was supposed to be had never been on Hodur before, while she’d spent months there. She needed to stop discrediting him just because he was big and muscular. An insightful mind lurked behind those gunmetal eyes, and if she let her guard down, he’d see through her web of lies in a heartbeat. That had the potential to get her killed, and not only by him.
Intelligence Command wasn’t known for its tolerance of failure. Regardless of her successes, she’d already disappointed them once.
She shrugged, hoping it came off as disaffected. “It’s like I said. No one notices the stevedores. You’d be amazed, the things crews talk about while you’re unloading their cargo. Like you’re not even there. Three systems’ worth of knowledge in plain sight, and all I have to do is drag my feet a little.”
Barr coughed. “Remind me to update crew protocols. No more talking in docks.” He followed her out the door, swearing creatively as the biting wind cut straight through his insulated parka.
She’d been ready for the cold, and even still it took her breath away. She hissed and yanked the collar up into a barricade to hide her face behind. Her eyelashes pulled, freezing together as she blinked, and she turned out of the wind long enough to settle a pair of goggles into place. They would mess up her peripheral vision, but not seeing would be worse.
Hodur’s primary spaceport hadn’t changed since the last time she’d been planetside, at least not in any noticeable way. The dim light reflected off Accipiter’s surface was enhanced by yellow sodium-gas lamps that drove away the worst of the gloom. Where other colonies had shied away from developing their own identity—leaning instead into retro-futuristic stylings or recreating the styles of Old Earth—the spaceport and the capital city of Penumbra had leaned into their own nature. Most structures had been 3D printed using regolith-based concrete, and the striated look had developed into its own style of brutalism that focused the available light through openwork roofs and skylights but left the streets in shadow. It made the place feel like an Old Earth noir film, and indeed several holovid studios had built themselves up doing Penumbra-based tales of crime and deception.
That thought chased her back to Barr. If he’d started questioning how she knew things, then he’d start watching her more closely. She needed a way to shift his curiosity away from her past, and in her experience, nothing suckered a man more quickly than helplessness.
Sheri hooked a foot against her ankle as she came down the steps from the launch. As she’d planned, her foot snagged, pitching her forward as momentum took over. For one sickening second time stood still and then the ground came rushing up to meet her. She closed her eyes and tried to relax her body to take the hit, knowing it would hurt no matter how prepared she might be.
One thick arm snaked around her waist and stopped her a heartbeat later. “Whoa there, Dockrat. You okay?”
Nine hells he’s strong. Sheri was surprised by how easily he caught her full weight and tucked her against him until she regained her footing. The nearness made it impossible to miss how solid he was, as heavy and immutable as the striped concrete on which they stood. Up close, his eyes were so dark that his pupils melted into the iris surrounding them. Light stubble defined his jaw and shaved head equally. His nose had been broken twice, but professionally reset. She could only barely see the remnants of the injury.
The moment stretched to the point of unease, and she cleared her throat, making sure to grab the rail as she stepped away from him. “Thanks. I—”
That had not worked out how she’d planned at all. She’d wanted him distracted, and he was more focused on her than before. Not in the same manner, but in a way that certainly made it hard for her to think of anything else other than him.
Sheri made a conscious effort to pummel her wayward brain into behaving. Teasing was one thing, but being the focus of his considerable energy was as frightening as it was intoxicating. She crammed the parade of sensual thoughts into the back of her mind as she forced herself to turn around. It only helped somewhat, and she could feel his eyes appraising the new view as much as he had her front. That at least fired up enough anger that she could start moving again. “So, we’re looking for a guy name Collin. My source said he worked in a shopfront a few blocks from the third train stop.”
She’d messaged IntCom again from the cargo hold as soon as they’d touched down, wanting to keep them apprised of her plans. The reply had been relayed from a nearby station, as quick to arrive as it had been brief and unhelpful:
Do not change parameters. Acquisition of Intelligence still primary. Nurzhan
Hopefully, Intelligence Command wouldn’t take her effort to get into the Night Market as a change of parameters. She needed it to get in good graces with the crew, otherwise acquisition, as IntCom put it, would be damned difficult. Plus, seeing Collin should be able to scratch her other itches as well, before she was tempted to do something stupid with Barr and really make IntCom question her judgment.
As on most TriSystem worlds, the spaceport was a safe distance from the major populated areas. On Hodur, that meant a train ride into Penumbra. Barr was a looming shadow at her back, as unyielding as the buildings of the city. But his presence in the normally crowded train cars was welcome too; he guaranteed an unusual amount of space around her, free of jostling elbows and “accidental” gropes. It was nice in a way she hadn’t expected.
At the other end of the line, they emerged into the dimly lit streets at the bottom of a valley of concrete walls. The locals tended to wear bright-colored clothing, which broke up the oppressive gray and black of the city, but also made her and Barr, in their ship-standard monochrome parkas, obvious tourists.
They had walked a couple of blocks when Barr stopped her to look in a shop window. Very quietly, he whispered, “We’ve got a tail. Kid. Blue scarf. Opposite side of the street.”
Impressive. She’d only noticed them a few minutes earlier and was holding out to see if they were working with a partner. “Good eye. They alone?”
“They’d be an idiot to work without backup. No clue who it is though.” His knuckles popped as his fist clenched. “Be easy enough to get out of them though.”
The threat of violence shocked her into remembering who she was working with. He wasn’t a Ranger, or even a TJF soldier. Barr was a criminal—a smuggler with a documented history of efficient brutality. “There are other ways to draw them out. You cross the street. I’ll double back.” If there was another person working the tail, they’d show their hand rapidly just to keep up.
“I don’t like you being out of my sight, Dockrat.”
Damn him for making the nickname walk the tightrope between teasing and affectionate. On impulse, she went up on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss at the corner of his mouth. “We’re partners, Barr. If I’m going to stab you in the back, I’d do it while you were naked.”
She spun and headed back the way she’d come, pleased to have finally left him without a snappy comeback of his own.
RAYAN STOOD STILL FOR too long, trying to decide what the hell she’d meant with her peck on the cheek. The ghost of her lips feathered the corner of his mouth, and the faintly astringent herbal smell of her soap clung to the air around his face. He growled, then stalked across the street at the corner. As he’d suspected, the kid in the scarf had already turned to head back in the same direction as Sheri had.
Leaving her without protection rubbed his nerves raw. There were too many things that could go wrong as soon as she was out of sight. Not the least of which was she could run. He banished the thought quickly. She’d been many things since he’d met her, but the one thing she hadn’t been was intentionally deceitful. He kept walking at ninety degrees to the direction she’d gone and slipped into a side street too narrow to be a road, but probably too wide to be an alleyway.
Barely.
He’d reached the far end when another figure entered the narrow road. From the silhouette, it could have been any of the people they’d passed on the street so far, save that no one else had come that way. Rayan turned at the end of the not-quite-alley and headed down the wider street outside. Assuming nothing had happened to her, he should be crossing back up with Sheri in another block.
Behind him, the person from the alley paused then started in his direction. Their scarf, hat, and balaclava made any kind of identification impossible, and it was all Rayan could do to not stop and wait for the person to get closer.
Up ahead, he saw Sheri jog across the street. A few moments later, her tail followed, and Rayan turned to casually saunter after. His own shadow continued down the street, but that didn’t remove them from suspicion. A good tail could still keep track, or hand off a mark after moving past them.
Sheri marched into a narrow alleyway bathed in darkness and scarcely big enough for two people standing shoulder to shoulder. The kid paused at the entrance, clearly thinking there might be a better path to catch her, and Rayan gave the kid a shove.
The tail yelped and stumbled forward. They spun to confront him, then paled visibly as they took in his size. The kid took a step backwards, directly into Sheri, who grabbed their shoulders.
“Leggo, off-worlder! I didn’t do anything wrong.” The kid’s voice was decidedly feminine. Indeed, when Sheri tugged off their hat and scarf, it revealed the face of a slightly built woman, rather than a young kid.
“Who paid you to follow us?” Sheri’s voice was amused, rather than angry. Rayan wished he understood the joke.
“Like I’m gonna say. I’m no snitch.”
“Fine,” Sheri replied. “How much would it cost to buy your services instead?”
The hairs on Rayan’s neck tingled, and he spun just in time to face the man who’d been tailing him. Rayan brought his fist down on the other man’s forearm, and the man dropped the knife he’d been trying to pull. Rayan’s smile was feral as he yanked the man into the alley. “I wondered when you’d show up.”
With their partner subdued, Sheri’s tail deflated but held off on saying anything. Sheri smiled wider. “Look, I know you have people you have to talk to. All I’m asking is that you delay an hour before you report in.”
Sheri dug into one of her pockets and pulled out a wad of actual cash. Rayan blanched. While it still existed in places, especially the black markets of the Three Systems, cash persisted almost entirely as an illegal economy. The bills were authorized by people—even in his head he couldn’t bring himself to say crime lords—with a store of valuable materials, and their value fluctuated constantly. Without knowing who certified the bills, she could have been holding five credits or five hundred.
“You recognize these?” She held out her hand, and Rayan could see the elaborate spiderweb border that indicated the bills as backed by Ariadne.
Both the tails nodded, eyes hungry as they looked at the cash.
“Good,” Sheri said. “If you can keep your mouth shut for an hour, then I’ll leave fifty credits for each of you in this alley.”
Rayan saw the younger tail wavering, looking to their partner for a clue as to what to do. The man stiffened as though he’d reject the offer, so Rayan leaned in. “Of course, if you say no, I’ll be forced disarm you a second time. Permanently.”
“Not again.” Sheri shi
vered. “At least wait until I’m out of range this time. You ruined my favorite suit.”
Barr grinned. “Sorry. I forgot to account for the lower atmospheric pressure. More spray and all that.” The patter felt natural, and he was surprised at how she’d played along with the implied threat. He turned back to the mismatched pair. “Where was I? Right, I remember...”
“I don’t know about Kreyskin,” the man said softly. “But I won’t say nothin’.”
“You coward.” The other tail—Kreyskin, apparently—spat at the man’s feet. “She’ll gut you for this. And I’ll—” Whatever else they’d planned to say was lost as Sheri sank a tranquilizer into the meat of their neck and slammed down the plunger. She caught the tail by the shoulders and lowered them to the ground.
Once she had them safely down, she turned to the other. “You just earned an extra fifty. Half now, and half in two hours.”
He blinked. “You said it would be one hour.”
“Yeah, but that was her deal. I’m changing it now that it’s just one of you. Is that a problem?”
Rayan added emphasis to Sheri’s question by popping his knuckles. As much as he hated the stereotype of being the big, violent muscle, there were times when it was effective. Like now.
“Not at all. I’ll just take some time to...uh, make sure Kreyskin is all right. You know?” He knelt next to his partner’s unconscious form, studiously ignoring the mouth of the alley.
Rayan followed Sheri out into the dim yellow light of the street and didn’t say a word as she doubled back twice to make sure they weren’t being followed. Once he was satisfied they were safe, he chuckled. “Is it wrong to admit that I enjoyed that?”
She shook her head, her laugh soft but earnest. “Only if I’m not allowed to admit it. I haven’t had a partner in years, Barr. Thanks for reminding me how fun that could be.”