Gunship (9 page)

Halfway down the hall was a glassed-in box with framed digital security photos. The third frame over was Reilly’s favorite. In it, the camera had captured Ty cursing out Crazy Ray and then blasting his way out of the auction house to freedom as his ship jumped from the deck into space. He currently retained the dubious status of “Wanted Man #3” with a sizeable reward for his safe return to Crazy Ray’s holding cells. Crazy Ray didn’t like to get his hands dirty so he had several individuals uniquely skilled in the area of interrogations and torture who were more than happy to do this job for him. Rumor had it that they provided him with taped copies for his video library so he could enjoy watching their work from the comfort of his own rooms after a hard day at the auctions.

As they reached their assigned auction room, a class-four Enforcer of the cat variety appeared, patrolling the hallways. It scanned them nonchalantly as it walked by so it could identify and recover or destroy them if they proved to be a problem to its master during their visit. Reilly ignored it and swiped the card across the access pad to the room. As they entered, another door opened on the far side and the TORRs backed in, unloading the crates rapidly and then exiting as the wall fell back into place. Inspectors lifted the merchandise out and examined the contents. Each inspector recorded items and their perspective values on computer pads, along with expected minimum and maximum trade values. When they had finished, the lead inspector handed Reilly an auction contract outlining terms and a guaranteed minimum amount. Reilly pressed her thumb to the pad to signify her agreement and passed it back. If the estimates were right, even the minimum would be more than enough to outfit her gunship with the required replacement parts as well as a few extra nice-to-have items.

Chang was stoic as they waited, standing with his arms casually folded behind his back, while Reilly stalked impatiently back and forth in the side gallery area where they stood. A light came on over the main door.

“Showtime,” Reilly muttered. In walked Crazy Ray, followed by his manager, Vishon. Vishon was in his normal drab grays and greens as he scrambled with his clip board to the control desk to prepare to begin the auction. His mannerisms reminded Reilly of a small dog that lived only to follow its master, even though it was beaten quite regularly. Perhaps he was just too stupid to realize the situation he was in.
Or maybe the beatings have affected his brain,
Reilly thought to herself as she flashed a cautious smile at Crazy Ray while Chang gave a solemn bow. Crazy Ray gave them both a dazzling smile in return as he promenaded around the central stage area like he was a beauty queen. Today he wore the ugliest orange-and-purple suit imaginable, with a white bone cane capped with ebony and gold and a bright white shirt to match. He strutted for the cameras as Vishon checked the image and then slid it to the holoscreen so Crazy Ray would be visible to the bidders. And of course so he could admire himself as he worked.

“Captain Campbell! It has been a dog’s age since we’ve had the pleasure of a visit from you and your friend Wang here!” He gave a slight mocking bow and continued to strut. “I should think after reviewing the auction items today that we’d like to see you more frequently, especially if you can continue to procure such wonderful toys for my buyers.” He turned again towards the goods and then back to Reilly. “Have you thought about my offer? I can raise the price a bit more if it will help.” He grinned, showing very pointy white teeth.

Reilly smiled politely back. “Mr. Ray, thank you very much for your kind offer. I certainly do appreciate it, but I haven’t seen the uh…miscreant…you’ve been looking for in a bit. But I will certainly let you know if I do, as he owes me some credits for damages to my ship.” Which wasn’t entirely an untrue statement.

At this, Crazy Ray smiled even bigger. “Yes, Joby Ty is most certainly a troublemaker. That likely comes from a lack of discipline and a poor mind. He is a troubled soul…best to put those ones out of our misery as soon as they have paid up!” He cackled loudly and turned back to the screen. “Vishon, let’s begin!”

Vishon hit several buttons, bringing up the stage lighting and the cameras on Crazy Ray. There he stood in all his glory, like some diabolical used car salesman. “Welcome! Welcome! My dear buyers, we have some fantastic items for you today! Let’s start small and go big, or should we start big and go small? Forget it! Let’s just mix it up, shall we? Lot one-seventeen is a crate of forty heavy battle rifles, new, never been fired, complete with thermal optics and batteries.” He picked one up and waved it around. “Military grade, people, weather proof, lightweight polymers, and has the new dissipater barrels so no more laser fragmentation issues after firing a hundred or a thousand rounds!” He swung back around to the other wall, where he had a mannequin and a steel armor plate, and proceeded to blast holes in both. “And it has variance, so it can defeat shields operating between several frequencies.” Vishon keyed up a couple of shields to demo this function as Crazy Ray blasted away in a maniacal bliss. “Perfect for your next hit, building security, assassinations, alien hoards, or that pesky ex-lover! Bidding will start at twenty-four thousand credits do I have twenty-four to five?”

Reilly felt nauseous just watching Crazy Ray as he twirled in delight across the stage, showing off items, demonstrating what they could do, and adding in additional tidbits about each. Chang seemed unaffected and watched the proceedings with an air of stolid disinterest. Vishon stood sweating at the control panel in constant motion flipping switches, recording prices, and zooming cameras to capture every little detail. All in all, it passed for a nightmarish form of entertainment that was part infomercial, part product demo, and part beauty pageant with Crazy Ray as the queen himself. After more blasting and some small-scale explosives demos done inside an ordnance shield against various objects and protective plating, the last items were finally sold.

At least today he didn’t utilize any live targets,
Reilly thought, relieved. The last auction had been difficult to sit through. Crazy Ray had pulled two sellers who had irritated him onto the stage and made them swallow small grenades while taking bets on which one would blow up first depending on the button he pushed. Thankfully, Reilly and Chang had seen much worse in battle, and so when the two men detonated they both sat in silence, indifferent, as if nothing especially significant had happened. To react negatively or even at all in front of Crazy Ray was dangerous. But neither of them forgot the lesson: don’t cross Ray, not ever. His station, his games—everybody plays, and then maybe everybody gets paid and gets to go home alive.

Vishon walked quickly to Crazy Ray’s side with his tablet pad to show him the overall results of the auction and fees collected. The TORRs had returned and were already repacking and loading items for transport off the station. Crazy Ray waved Reilly and Chang over.

“Vishon shows me that we have done very well on this auction. I have been able to impress my buyers, thanks to the specialty items you have brought, and so I will also thank you. If you give Vishon your handheld, he will upload your credits while we talk. Now, what can I give you as a thank you?”

Reilly was taken aback. This was one scenario she had not anticipated, having to accept a gift from Crazy Ray and be required to request something that did not offend him, something that was not too much or too little. She knew she had to say something, because to tell him she didn’t want his thank-you gift was not an option either. Crazy Ray waited politely, looking at her. Suddenly it came to her.

“You’re too generous, Mr. Ray. We do have one need that you may be able to help with, and I hope you won’t think it too odd a request.”

Crazy Ray looked interested. “Please, my dear, name it and it will be yours.”

“Well, I need some hay. Um, and some corn, too, if you happen to have it.”

Crazy Ray looked at her very strangely. “It is an odd request, I must confess. What are you going to do with hay and corn? Or are you planning on settling down on a world? Oh, I know, it must be for…Vishon…what is it called? Drink of the stars, mechanics whiskey…ha! You are setting up your own brewery now, that’s it!”

“I actually have some cows that we acquired during our last stop, and I need—”

“Cows? Did you say cows?”

Reilly was worried now. If Crazy Ray had a thing against cows, this could backfire completely.
Dammit, I should have stuck with the whiskey!
she thought. “Keep it simple, stupid” was a principle she had learned a long time ago, and it had always served her well. She watched Crazy Ray carefully to see what was going to come next.

“How many cows?” he asked.

“Only two. We had three, but one didn’t make it,” Reilly replied. She figured there was no need to highlight the fact that Chang had killed one for breakfast.

Crazy Ray thought again, then snapped his fingers. “Vishon. Get Captain Campbell hay and corn, and have it delivered to her ship.” Vishon nodded as he gave Reilly her handheld back with the credits from the auction and then scurried off.

“Thank you very much for your gift, Mr. Ray. I certainly do appreciate you allowing us the visit to participate in your auctions,” Reilly said.

“I want to see them. Your cows. I have twenty minutes before my next auction, so let’s go—chop, chop, my dear!” Crazy Ray took off towards the ship before Reilly or Chang could react.

Chang clicked twice on his handheld to alert Duv that they had guests headed their way and then hurried after Reilly and Crazy Ray. As they moved down the hallway, one of the Enforcers fell into step behind them and followed them out to the ship. Reilly glanced at Chang. The shield on Ty’s room would only hold up at a distance, not if they had an Enforcer follow them into the cargo bay. It would immediately detect the shield and report it, which in turn would draw the attention of Crazy Ray’s security team. If they found Ty on board, Reilly knew the whole crew would be dead. Crazy Ray would have the lot of them up front for his next auction demo—if they were lucky. If not, then they would have a very uncomfortable stay in his detention cells as stars in his latest torture video. Neither option appealed to Reilly. As they strode towards the ship, she toyed with the idea of keying Duv to take off. She and Chang may be able to explain it as a misunderstanding then. But one or both of them would still probably wind up dead.

Crazy Ray began walking up the ramp into the bay with the Enforcer.

“Mr. Ray, wait a moment please.” Reilly stopped as he turned towards her with a slightly irritated look. “I would sure appreciate it if you would leave your Enforcer down here. The cows are a bit shell-shocked, and I don’t think they will deal very well with your friend there.”

Crazy Ray paused to consider, then nodded in agreement. The Enforcer sat back on its metal haunches as they continued up the ramp and into the bay. The cows had been moved to the front and were lying down on the floor together by the small hold that Seth had claimed. They eyed Crazy Ray up warily as he approached. To Reilly’s surprise, he got down and began to pet them and rub their ears, talking to them in a low, deep voice. Just then, a TORR rolled up with the hay and corn Reilly had request. One of the cows rolled its eyes, fearful of the machine and its noise. Crazy Ray turned to look at the driver. The man got out and offloaded the bales and the bin of corn near the back. Then he drove the TORR back out. As he left, Crazy Ray stood up and walked to the back of the bay and called out to the driver to stop. When the man obeyed and turned to see what his boss wanted, Ray shot him in the head and then turned to Reilly apologetically.

“I am very sorry my man upset your cows. It should not have happened. Thank you for allowing me to see them.” He holstered his gun and walked abruptly down the ramp and back towards the auction house.

Reilly and Chang both drew a deep breath too soon. The Enforcer still sat at the back of the ramp, and it now sent out a moderate alert signal. Crazy Ray turned and eyed Reilly suspiciously, then stalked back to the Enforcer. He flipped open a side compartment on the neck to view the reason for the alert.

“Captain Campbell, we have just had such a nice visit. And now this. My Enforcer tells me you have shielded a room in your ship and that there is a human within. Dear me. I hope it’s not our old friend the miscreant?” Crazy Ray pulled his gun back out and held it by his side as six security troops boarded the ship, headed for Ty’s room.

Reilly and Chang remained still as two other security members stood to either side of them, weapons trained to respond to the slightest movement.

A few minutes later, Duv emerged, followed by Skeeter. The security team lead jogged over to Crazy Ray and whispered a few words, pointing at Skeeter. The kid was holding up so far, but he was beginning to get the stare. Crazy Ray eyed him up and then turned back to Reilly, Chang, and Duv.

“What is this? This boy?”

“We picked him up after slavers took over his planet. He was fighting them and did okay, so I figured he was worth training,” Reilly responded.

“The Captain assigned him to me, Mr. Ray, sir.” Duv looked down, the picture of the humble soldier. “Sometimes he’s not right in the head and we have to lock him up so he doesn’t cause trouble. We figured we’d keep him that way during the Captain’s visit with you so he didn’t interfere with business.”

Crazy Ray walked over to Skeeter. With the hand that held the gun, he reached out and grabbed Skeeter’s jaw, laying the barrel of the gun alongside it as he turned his head first left then right, looking at his face. Duv tried to remain calm and unconcerned, but Reilly could see the tension boiling underneath. She caught his eye and just barely shook her head. With his thumb pressed to Skeeter’s chin, Crazy Ray pulled his head down and leaned over so they were at eye level.

He grunted, then leaned in and whispered, “One day, boy, you will need that anger. Don’t let them take it from you. It makes you strong.”

Crazy Ray stepped back, releasing Skeeter and waving off his security. He waved his gun lazily in Skeeter’s direction. “He’s a good boy; he’ll make a good fighter. Reminds me a bit of me when I was young! Ha! Until next time, Captain Campbell!” He walked off, holstering his gun, and this time the Enforcer and the security personnel followed him.