Fatal Blade (Decker's War#3) (8 page)

“It’s not so bad,” he replied after taking his first bite.  “I’ve had stuff massacred by autochefs that you could use as armor after rinsing off the gravy.”

He chewed contemplatively, washing each bite down with a sip.

“I wonder if we could get a hook into some of the Shrehari trade,” Talyn said after wiping the bottom of her bowl with a bit of bread.

“I hope you don’t mean the leg from the Empire to this place.  Shrehari traders who work those routes won’t like competition and I don’t particularly feel like visiting the Empire.  You break one of their taboos, they can get medieval on your ass to the point where your family will wonder years later why you stopped calling at Christmas.”

“Not a problem for us, then.  Neither you nor I have any family worth mentioning.”  She smirked.  “No, I was thinking about the shipping between here and the final destination.  There’s got to be real money in carrying Imp wares.”

“Probably.”  He looked over his shoulder at the dance floor.  “What do you say we get a room and do the horizontal samba?”

“What if I’m more in the mood for a slow dance?”  She stood, eyes on automatic scan, like any good agent.

“You’re in luck; the next dance is ladies’ choice.”  He gave her his best leer.

“That sounded plural to me,” she replied looking at him with suspicion.  “Are you implying that you’ll be inviting someone to join us?”

“If you insist.”  He managed to look so perfectly innocent that she had no choice but to smile.

The waiter must have warned Wim that the newcomers were looking for a room because he waved them over to the side of the bar where the crush of patrons wasn’t so dense.  Decker handed over fifty creds and got a key chip in return.

“You room is on the second floor.  The stairs are in the back.” Wim gestured over his shoulder. “You want anything special, you let me know.”

“I think he offered to arrange a third party for our dance,” Decker whispered in Talyn’s ear.

“No doubt he would arrange it if asked,” she replied. “But he probably meant something more in the line of stuff you shove up your nose.”

“That, he can shove up his ass.”

“I hear it gives you a quicker high that way.”

“Pretty shitty addiction, if you ask me,” he replied, deadpan, getting the expected groan in return.

Mercifully, the sounds of the eternal party faded quickly once they reached their floor.

The second floor corridor consisted of painted metal walls and a hard, plasticized floor designed for an easy clean-up after the night’s drunks had tossed their cookies on the way to bed.  However, the room they’d been given was much different.

“Basic brothel chic,” Decker said looking at the red wall hangings, velvet bed cover and plush chairs.  “And there’s even the obligatory mirror on the ceiling.  I guess these rooms do double duty as hot sheet screwbicles.  Hopefully the linen’s fresh.”

“Just a suggestion, Zack, don’t run a sensor scan over the room.  You might not be able to fall asleep after that.”

He tossed his small bag on a side table while Talyn visited the washroom.

“No windows,” he said after checking behind the fabric curtains.

“Thank God.  There’s nothing to see outside except constant night and the damn lights,” she called out through the half-open door.

“It does mean there’s only one way in and out of this room.  I’ll just have to make sure no one gets in that we don’t want in.”

“Try not to maim the housekeeping staff.  Toilet’s clean,” she said, coming out of the washroom, “though if your plan is to shower with me later on, be warned that there’s not enough room to play hide the soap.”

“Shower sex is overrated anyway,” he replied, pulling off his boots, “unless you’re on a starship about to go FTL.  Then it’s just plain freaky.  We going to play for a bit and then go looking, or are we in for the night?”

“In for the night, I think,” she replied, shrugging off her jacket and pulling her shirt over her head.  “Between the piggy bank at the spaceport and the folks who run this listening post, we might just wait and see if we get any takers before we start to solicit.”

“Good,” Decker grinned, stepping out of his trousers.  “That stew seems to have put a spring in my step, so to speak.”

“Something’s on a spring alright,” she replied, glancing down at his groin area.  “Good thing I know a cure.”

“So do I.  Want to play doctor?”

NINE

The next morning, while Talyn watched Decker devour a huge breakfast, a ponytailed man in a business suit approached their table.

His pockmarked face creased into a smile when he saw Zack’s appetite.

“Hard night?”

“You have no idea,” Zack replied between two mouthfuls.  He nodded towards Talyn.  “Women of her age have cravings that would leave the fittest Marine in the dust.”

The man chuckled briefly, then his smile vanished.  He pulled up a chair and sat at their table without waiting for an invitation.

“I hear you have a fast ship and empty cargo holds.  Maybe I can help you with that.  I’m Pavel Krig, by the way.”

“Captain Pru Pasek.”  Talyn shook Krig’s hand.  “The competitive eater there is First Mate Bill Whate.”

Zack nodded wordlessly but kept his attention on the rapidly diminishing pile of hash.  Krig could damn well wait until he’d finished his meal.

After a contented belch, washed away with a gulp of coffee, he finally acknowledged the newcomer.

“Did the spaceport bribe queen tell you about us?”  Decker asked.

“No.  How much did dear Triane Lyde charge you to ‘help out’?”

“Five hundred up front, a thousand if we get a contract.”

The man’s smile returned, this time with a hardness that matched his dark eyes.

“I bet she sold you enhanced security too, right?”

“Yup.  She saw us coming a parsec away.” Decker shrugged.

“Throwing bribe money around like that could get you some attention you don’t want, Ser Whate.  Folk here are a suspicious lot.”

“You mean the authorities?”  He smirked dismissively.  “They haven’t pinned anything on us yet.”

“Andoth is, shall we say, self-governing in pretty much all things.  Provided we pay a reasonable amount of taxes, the Commonwealth leaves us alone.”  His smooth tone spoke of the seasoned negotiator or the expert con man.  “We have varying interests who aren’t always necessarily in agreement when it comes to dealing with outsiders, especially those looking for work.”

“Meaning?”

“Come now, Ser Whate, surely a citizen of the galaxy like you can appreciate how unknown spacers who land here and declare they’re ready to haul any cargo – wink, wink – provided it pays, might raise suspicions.  Especially when they’re free with creds.”

“True.  And I suppose you can smooth over said suspicions, for a fee.”  Decker made it a statement rather than a question.

“The people I represent wish to diversify their shipping channels.  We have nothing resembling regular service this far from the regular star lanes, and so many of the smaller shippers aren’t as reliable as some business interests might wish.”

Decker’s fingers began to dance slowly by his now empty plate.

Do we see what this guy has to offer?
  He asked.

Turning him down might look suspicious
.  Talyn replied.

He nodded at her and gave Krig his best Decker grin.

“We’re – ah – open to suggestions.”  Zack then proceeded to pick at a strand of vat pork stuck between his teeth, knowing that the gesture made him look like an uncouth and hopefully clueless hick.

“Perhaps you’d be open to meeting the interests I represent?”  Still smooth like a frigate in hyperspace.

“Sure.  We’re here for business, after all.”

Krig’s eyes flicked between Talyn and Decker, evidently uncertain which of the two was the real leader.

“Would now be convenient?”

***

“Your employers hang out in a mine shaft, Ser Krig?”

They were headed towards a well-guarded, well-lit opening at the base of the ten-kilometer tall cliff.

“In a played-out section that’s been improved, yes.  It has its advantages.  With the constant darkness down here, one doesn’t yearn for offices with windows and there’s no rent to pay.”

“Good security too, I’ll bet,” Talyn said, “with limited ways in and out.”

Krig nodded warily.

“That as well, yes.  As I mentioned, business on Andoth is controlled by varying interests who don’t always agree.  Sometimes, it’s best to appear well protected.  It helps calm hotter tempers until negotiations can be completed.”

Zack guffawed.  “This place sounds like a lot of fun.”

“If you enjoy profit, then yes, it is fun,” Krig replied, deadpan.

The two guards framing the entrance could have come from the same mold.  They both had that aging athlete build where a massive musculature had slowly turned to fat.  Bullet-shaped, shaven heads, a standard issue scowl, and impressive looking side arms completed the picture.  They gave Decker such a thorough, unfriendly visual once-over that he blew the older of the two a kiss, just out of sheer devilment.  To his credit, the man didn’t react.

“No weapons check?”  Decker asked once they had passed the sentry post and in what could easily pass for an office hallway rather than a horizontal mine shaft.

“We wouldn’t wish to insult you and Captain Pasek, Ser Whate.  Many on Andoth are armed, it’s more or less expected.”

“An armed society is a polite society?”

“As you say.”  Krig inclined his head.

“So you’re carrying?”

“Of course.”  He lifted the side of his jacket to reveal a small but nasty looking needle gun.

Leading the way through a warren of passages, Krig kept speaking of inconsequential matters, as if trying to distract them so they’d have difficulty memorizing the way out, but it was in vain.

Both Decker and Talyn had quickly shut him out to examine their surroundings with the kind of intense focus that comes from long experience.

They eventually entered a larger area with a few tastefully arranged settee groupings.  Two men, quasi-clones of the guards outside, were the only occupants, and they studied the two agents with the same dispassion.

“Ser Syko is expecting us,” Krig informed them.

The guard on the right nodded once while the other reached out to open a padded door.

“Please go ahead,” Krig told Decker and Talyn.  “I have other duties I must now attend to.”

He turned on his heel and left without waiting for an acknowledgment.  The guard by the door made an impatient motion.

“Ser Syko isn’t used to waiting.”

They entered a large, well-appointed office where a balding older man, sitting behind a large marble-topped table, examined them with obvious interest.  Though not another copy of the guards, he apparently came from the same background though with a more advanced case of obesity.

Two tough guys stood against the far wall, arms crossed, faces as if carved from stone.  They, on the other hand, were still in the prime of physical fitness.

Syko gestured towards the chairs in front of the table.

“Please sit.”  When they’d done so, warily but by all outward appearances relaxed, he continued.  “Pavel tells me you own a fast, well-armed free-trader and are looking to break into the transport business in this area of the Rim.”

“Indeed,” Talyn said.  “We can guarantee that we’ll never be intercepted by the Navy, the Constabulary or marauders.”

“That’s a big claim to make, Sera Pasek.”  Syko sounded amused rather than skeptical.

“Perhaps,” she replied, unconcerned. “I’d offer to prove it, but I can’t call on the Navy to witness the claim.  They’ve never caught us.  Any marauders who’ve tried didn’t survive the encounter.”

Syko chuckled.  “I admire your self-confidence.”

Then, he leaned forwards and placed his forearms on the marble tabletop, all pretense at pleasantness erased from his soft features.

“On the other hand, I have a few problems with your story.  Your ship, though registered, doesn’t have much of a verifiable history and neither do the two of you.  Yes, I checked and yes, we have a subspace relay in this system, in case you didn’t know.”

When neither reacted, Syko snorted and sat back in his chair.

“I’m pretty sure that when the feelers I’ve put out come back, I won’t find anyone in the sector who’ll acknowledge knowing you.”

“That’s because we used to operate in the Yotai area before we had a bit of a quandary with an ungrateful client.”  Talyn smiled briefly.  “A change in name and registry, and we’re working again, a few hundred light years away, free and clear of trouble.”

“Possibly.”  Syko looked down at his fingers before staring up at them again with small, deep-set eyes.  “If you were Constabulary or Navy operatives trying to infiltrate what the authorities deem illegal trade, your background would be much less sparse and more convincing.  Still…”

“The other problem I have is this,” he continued after a brief pause, “my folks have scanned for your ship in orbit and have come up with nothing.  I know it’s there.  Yavan Control has a record of your arrival in this system.”

“Make that three more problems, actually,” Syko corrected himself.  “First, not being able to see your ship, I can’t figure whether you’re bullshitting me or not.  Second, I’m having a hard time figuring out why you’re hiding it, and finally, there’s the fact that you’re doing it well enough to fool every sensor my people have used.”

A hard, almost mocking smile spread across Decker’s face.

“It’s amazing what a bit of anti-reflective paint and serious emissions control can do to hide a ship, if you know how, Ser Syko.”  He fished a data wafer from his shirt pocket and tossed it on the table.  “Here are
Phoenix
’s specs and some recent imagery.”

Syko snapped his fingers and one of the goons handed him a thin tablet.  He took the wafer, tapped it against the reader and waited for data to appear.

“Nice ship,” he commented, eyes focused on the screen.  “Right size, right build.  Very marketable.  Well done.”

He looked up at them with a thin smile.

“I could definitely use a ship like yours to expand my business opportunities.  That is, of course, if you’re not feeding me some sales brochure.”

“We came here on something,” Decker replied, “and we’re not offering our services unless we can deliver.  Disappointing potential clients is bad for business.”

“True,” Syko nodded agreeably.  “Your ship interests me, Ser Whate.”

“I hear a ‘but’ in your voice,” Talyn said.

“Very perspicacious, Sera Pasek.  Very perspicacious indeed.  You see, I need a ship.  I don’t particularly need a crew.”

“We’re not interested in selling,” Decker replied with affected nonchalance.

“Oh, I understand that, Ser Whate.  I really do.”  Syko’s smile turned ugly.  “What I think I’d like to do is simply take it.  From a business point of view, it makes the most sense to me, surely you can see that.  No initial outlay, my own loyal crew and,” he snapped his fingers, “I have my own means of shipping whatever I want, wherever I want.”

“What makes you think we’d go along with that?”  Talyn asked.  Her fingers brushed the back of Zack’s hand.

Stand by to bust some heads
.

“You have to understand the position you’re in,” Syko sat back, looking self-satisfied. “Here, I have you deep inside my territory, with only one way out.  My men are natural killers, in my service of course, and I’m one of the most powerful bosses on Andoth, so if I just take your ship, no one 'll object.”

“There’s us for starters, and I see a few problems with your idea, Syko,” Decker said, leaning forward and adjusting his posture.  “First, you’ll have to find the ship.  The other problem you have, sorry make that two problems you have, is getting on board without wrecking it and then getting the systems to cooperate with you.”

“Surely you don’t think we left
Phoenix
undefended,” Talyn added, also shifting her body.

Syko shook his head.

“Lock-out codes can be defeated, AIs can be co-opted.  Just because I used to be a miner doesn’t mean I’m ignorant about starships.  But you’ll be giving me the proper codes soon enough.  I won’t need to use any force to take your
Phoenix
.  Not a name I like, by the way.  I’ll have to think about what to call her.  Any suggestions?”

“Give you the codes?”  Decker snorted.  “Good luck with that, rock mole.”

“What did you call me?”  Syko’s back was instantly up.

“Isn’t that the right term for people like you: rock moles?  Scurrying little creatures with small brains and an instinct to burrow?”

“Take care, Ser Whate, take care.  We don’t like that term on Andoth.”

“So?”  Decker shrugged.  “You’re about to kill us anyway.”

“If you cooperate, perhaps I’ll let you live.  There’s always room for indentured labor in some of the deeper shafts.”

“But we won’t cooperate in letting you steal our ship,” Talyn said, a hand creeping slowly towards her concealed gun.  “You can hire us at a fair price, or you can let us walk out.  There’s no other option.”

“Ah, but a mind probe is such a useful thing,” Syko replied. “With a few chemicals thrown into the mix, your cooperation is practically guaranteed.  Perhaps you’ll even survive the experience.”